Who: Liam & Sam What: Lunch between friends Where: Lunch Stop When: Recently! Warnings/Rating: None
It was just before noon when Liam arrived at the diner. Warm clothes had been pulled out as a concession to the dropping temperatures of the desert in winter, and as he entered the diner, he reached up to pull off the grey knit hat, shoving it into the pocket of his coat and running fingers through his hair to smooth down the static-ruffled strands. He didn’t see Sam anywhere, yet, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing them a table in the cafe near the back, settling so he could see the door and wave Sam down when she arrived. Normally, he would have approached the meeting with something a bit more positive, but after the foreboding conversation with Neil, he was having a hard time being anything but worried. Sure, he and Sam hadn’t talked in some time, not since shortly after he had gotten out of the hospital. Their last conversation had been anything but pleasant, and with a month of silence between them, he hadn’t known what to expect upon talking to her again. And in that month, something had happened, something that Neil wasn’t up to divulging, and that silence only served to worry Liam even more. Combined with the comment about not offering Sam drugs, he had an inkling of an idea as to what had happened.
Settling into the booth, Liam peeled out of his coat and ordered coffee, winding both hands around the cup when it arrived, blue eyes constantly glancing towards the door for Sam’s arrival.
Sam had spent most of the morning wandering around Airgas, which was less a store and more an outdoor wonderland for construction men. She'd spent her entire five hundred dollar gift certificate, plus a good amount of the $5,000 royalties that Liam probably didn't need to give her at all. But, fuck it. She wanted enough metal to hole up in that studio for all six months if things went to shit. A couch from Ikea, a tiny fridge, and the stuff from Airgas should assure she never have to leave if she didn't want to. Not that she was expecting things to go to shit, but you never knew, especially lately. Plus, she didn't want that kind of cash in her possession. $5,000 could buy a lot of fucking drugs if you knew the right dealers, and Sam did.
As for Liam, she couldn't even remember what they'd fought about. The past few months were like that; a blur of too many drugs, and she was pretty sure she hadn't been completely straight for any of it. She could vaguely remembering sitting at Thanksgiving dinner, in that buffet with everyone that knew her, and thinking she must be the best fucking actress ever put on earth. But, no, she knew perfectly well that wasn't the case. She had a family full of problems bigger than hers, and friends that were tied up in their own shit. And shouldn't it be that way? At the end of the day, wasn't that just how shit was?
She walked into the Lunch Stop wearing jeans and a sweater that had seen better days, grey and frayed at the ends of the sleeves. Her jeans were loose from the weight she'd lost in rehab, and the circles from around her eyes were just beginning to fade. She had her hair loose, hoping the messy tangles against her face would hide how noticeable her cheekbones were just then. She'd already gone to the clinic for her dailies, so she was almost nodding, better than she'd been until tomorrow at the same time. It was a good time to go out, and she was glad she'd done it. Neil was working and, anyway, she hadn't managed to haul her ass back there yet. She would soon, she promised herself.
She saw Liam right away, and she wound her way back to the table at the rear of the small cafe, one which had been chosen because it was too small to serve even beer.
When Sam approached the table, Liam got to his feet, giving her a nod of greeting, a small smile on his lips before he sat back down, nearly spilling his cup of coffee when he moved too quickly, the dark liquid sloshing over the edge of the cup and onto the table, prompting a curse from him. Liam looked much as he always did, dark hair and blue eyes, though the healing tattoo behind his right ear was just visible, mostly discreet due to the length of his hair. And if Sam thought she could hide the weight she had lost, she was wrong, because things like that didn’t escape Liam’s attention. But he didn’t comment on those, because she was here, she looked like he remembered her, and that was what mattered, wasn’t it?
“Good to see you again, Sam,” Liam said after he had settled and mopped up the majority of the spilled coffee with his napkin, pushing the sodden mess to the edge of the table. And it was good to see her again, because no matter all of the shit that had happened, she was still one of the few people in this town that he felt truly himself around, and he wasn’t going to take that for granted.
"Clutz," she teased, taking a seat before he'd even finished mopping up his spilled cup. The cafe's one waitress came bustling over, and Sam asked her for a cup when she brought Liam a fresh one. "Yeah, you too. I know we fought about something, but fuck if I can remember what, so, how about you just tell how much the tattoo hurt instead," she said, motioning to it observantly. She grabbed the menu then, though she really didn't need to look it over; she'd been to the tiny cafe plenty of times, since breakfast only cost a buck ninety-nine, and it was near a lot of the work sites in the area. When the waitress returned with the coffee, she ordered herself an egg and cheese on a bagel, and she willed her fucking stomach to behave. "The hotel fuck with you for Christmas?" she asked a second later, absently as she doctored her coffee. She liked it sweet these days, as if the sugar could make up for the shit she wasn't putting in her system.
At the teasing, Liam tossed her a look, though there wasn’t any venom in the expression. Wiping his hands clean on another napkin, Liam nodded his thanks to the waitress for the cup of coffee, honestly a bit surprised she was asking about the tattoo. “It didn’t hurt as much as I was imagining,” he responded, sweetening up his cup as the waitress returned to take their order. Pancakes and a side of sausage, and he stirred in some cream into the coffee moments later. “Zee’s good at what he does. I can see why people enjoy it, a little bit, though I’m not going back anytime soon.” One was enough; permanent things, things you couldn’t wash off at the end of the day, they took considerable thought before diving into. And thinking was something Liam had always been good at.
“And no, hotel didn’t mess with us. We were out of town, and I’m grateful for that. Last thing I need right now is that place messing with my mind. What about you?” He tapped the coffee spoon on the edge of the cup and sat it down, curling fingers around the hot cup and bringing it up for a sip.
"Vail. Right," she said, closing her fingers around her coffee cup and letting the heat seep through to her calloused fingers. "Lucky fucking bastard," she added, giving him a smile that said she was just fucking with him, all crooked and gap toothed. She still thought the tattoo was fucking crazy, but then she didn't trust anyone to stay around long enough to get their name tattooed on her body. And, number or fucking not, that thing was still someone's name. But, hey, to each his own. "So, how you been since the hospital?" she asked, perhaps indelicately. But Sam never minced words, and she wasn't going to start that shit now. "I didn't know Zee did ink. He doesn't talk to me much anymore. I tried a few times, but, yeah. Guess that was a door friendship, or what the fuck ever. Speaking of doors, how's your new one working out for you?" She watched him tap his spoon the edge of the cup, a distracted kind of staring, before turning her attention back toward his face.
The grin that tugged up the corner of Liam’s mouth was enough to show that he knew she was joking, that he didn’t take her words that seriously, but as the conversation edged towards the hospital, how things have been since then, the smile faded into something much more sedate. His eyebrows lifted for a moment, because honestly, how did he summarize the mess those weeks had been? “I’ve been,” he said by way of an answer, because really, that was the only way he could put it. There were good days and bad days, and while the good days were starting to outnumber the bad ones, things were still shaky at times. “I spend a lot of time writing, not thinking, and just focusing on the present. I’d go crazy, otherwise.” Letting out a sigh, Liam’s shoulders sunk down a bit and he settled back in his seat, slouching down slightly. “Yeah, he has a shop downtown. Nice little place. And as for my door...” Liam trailed off, bringing a hand up to chew on his thumb nail, eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s fine. He’s secretive, the new guy. Not an open book like Raoul was, and that’s bothersome, sometimes. I don’t know what he’s up to, and I’ve good reason to worry about it.” Because he had the name, at least. And he had access to the internet enough to know what Curt Connors was about and capable of. Raoul had been his own brand of trouble, but Connors was something else entirely.
"Yeah," she said, her own reply to his cryptic I've been, because she got it, she really did. She buried herself in her welding or rushed through the door when the itch got too bad lately, which wasn't really coping, but fuck it. Anything to get from day to day. "But you look better, and you sound better, so that's something," she said, which was true. He looked worlds better than he had that day in the hospital. She was blissfully unaware of his hunt for drugs on the journals, and she thought nothing of a joint as a Christmas gift, so she wasn't worried on that count. For once, her world was small, without all the concerns of everyone she knew, because she just hadn't been fucking talking to any of them recently. She hummed thoughtfully at his mention of Zee's shop; maybe she'd check it out sometime. "Secretive. Neil's bastard is like that too. I still don't know who he fucking is," she admitted. "My girl is a meddling fucking teenager but, yeah, maybe she's growing on me a little. Her little problems seem really fucking nice some days, you know?" But his guy sounded like bad news, and she held her tongue until the waitress (newly returned) set their plates down in front of them. "You think he's a villain?" she asked, because that was everyone's worry, wasn't it? That they'd end up with some fucking villain that would kill everyone they knew?
Sam was one of the few people that Liam felt would ever understand where he was in his head after all was said and done. She didn’t give him those looks of pity, didn’t sit and pat him on the head and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Because honestly, Liam doubted that everything would ever be okay again, but he was getting to a point where things weren’t bad, and that was better than nothing. “Remind me not to ask you how I thought I looked before, then, because I still feel like shit.” He gave her a grin and sipped on his coffee, curling his fingers around the cup, because it was warm and Vegas was growing cold; who knew the desert could be cold? Liam certainly hadn’t expected that.
As the talk turned to their alters, Liam let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “I’m not entirely sure what he is, to be honest with you. Confused. Misunderstood. Not bad, but...” Liam paused, lips pursing as he stared past Sam into the rest of the cafe, his gaze distant. “What did you say your girl’s name was?” He knew, but it had been so long ago, before everything fell apart, that the name was a distant memory now, unretrievable. But he felt like there was a connection there.
"You looked like complete fucking ass," she informed him bluntly as she poked at her newly arrived breakfast with a fork. She didn't actually eat anything, but she poked the eggs full of holes, and she pushed the sausage around and watched it roll for a few seconds. "You look a lot better now," she concluded, giving him a lopsided grin as he sipped at his coffee. She gave up the fight to eat something a second later, and she sat back and took a sip of her own coffee as he started talking about his door person. Personally, she thought it couldn't be worse than Raoul, yeah? Raoul had been planning a fucking hit before everything changed, and she was hoping this shit would be better than it had been before. "Gwen Stacy," she offered readily, because she'd never been secretive about who was bouncing around in her head. "Blonde teenager, science nerd, dates Spider-Man until some Goblin throws her off a bridge and kills her. Meddlesome pain in the ass." She shrugged, though. "She's just a stupid fucking kid. Her dad died, and her mom's a wreck, and she has boy problems all over the fucking place." Sam had a tendency to become fond of the idiotic women in her head, and Gwen was quickly following in Christine's footsteps when it came to that.
“I thought I said I wasn’t going to ask,” Liam responded, giving her a look with lifted brows, though it dissolved into a roll of his eyes as she flashed that grin at him. He watched as she pushed her food around for a moment, cutting his pancakes into bite-sized pieces before dousing the entire plate in a liberal dose of maple syrup. Shoving a forkful home, he waited until he had chewed and swallowed before giving a nod to her plate. “Not hungry?” he asked, thumbing the corners of his mouth clean and wiping his hands on his napkin moments later. As she responded with the information on Gwen, Liam felt his stomach roll in response. Yeah, he knew who Gwen Stacy was, and he knew well her connection to Curt Connors. “Ah,” Liam murmured in response, because what else did you say when you knew the man you time-shared with was the one responsible for killing someone’s father? That word was heavy, implying much more than Liam actually said, and to prevent himself from saying anything more, he shoveled another bite of pancakes into his mouth, gaze averted to the side.
"Since when does you not asking keep me from telling you shit?" she asked, her gap-tooth crooked smile widening a little more when he rolled his eyes. "No," she admitted a second later, when he asked if she was hungry. "I just want the coffee," she said, but there wasn't any fucking apology in it. She wasn't going to apologize for making him waste a buck ninety-nine; it just wasn't her style. She watched him instead, finishing off the coffee and then asking for more, liking how the hot and sweet liquid pooled in her belly, making her warm from the inside out. "Ah?" she asked after he said it - a few long seconds after he said it, because there had to be more. She could tell from his expression that there was more, and she was expecting him to spill it. "Come on. What the fuck is it? Spill, Liam," she insisted. Because they'd already been through hell with their fucking door once. How much worse could it possibly fucking be?
Dragging his gaze back to her, he kept his silence for some time longer, because even though he wanted to tell her, the last thing he needed was drama anywhere. Raoul had been enough, and with Curt Connors there, he had a feeling things would get worse at some point, likely in the near future. “He knows Gwen, that’s all,” Liam answered, pushing his own cup out to get a refill when the waitress came by, and then his attention was on the black liquid. Cream and sugar this time, sweetening it up more than he normally would. “And it’s complicated. More complicated than I want to get into. I actually miss Raoul some days.” Because as passionate as Raoul could be, he was, at least, somewhat predictable at times. But Connors didn’t have that familiarity to him yet, and that left Liam wondering, waiting.
She quirked a brow. "He knows the meddling teenager?" she asked, putting her coffee cup down. "Ok, fess the fuck up. Don't give me any of this bullshit about it being complicated, Liam," she said. She wasn't really worried about her fate in Vegas, despite Gwen's constant emoing about how she was supposed to die, but that was mainly because of Louis. She knew Loki had given Gwen a "get out of jail free" card, and that was all she really needed to feel calm about that shit.
That was the thing about Liam’s relationships with his friends. Once they were in, they were in, and he found it incredibly hard to ever say no to them. So when Sam demanded information about Connors, Liam didn’t find it easy to refuse. But he dragged it out for some time, another bite of pancake, a long drink of coffee, and then after wiping his mouth yet again, he looked back towards her. “Curt Connors,” Liam said quietly, simply, and then he was digging back into his food, gaze firmly averted away from her.
Even with Gwen freaking out in her mind, it took Sam a few seconds to remember who the fuck Curt Connors was. Yeah, ok, lizard guy. Great. "Is he a lizard, or is he a person right now?" she asked, because she'd read up on the comics and even visited some forums and blogging site for the whole "Spider-Man" shit. Admittedly, she'd been amiss at finding everyone from her new door. She'd stopped actively looking after MK, because as much as she loved her new friend, that had complicated her fucking life so much. Elise had been a fluke, finding Elise, and it hadn't really occurred to her to find anyone else, especially not the lizard guy that had fucked Gwen's life up beyond recognition.
“A person. I think. It was hard enough to figure out who he was let alone what he’s doing right now,” Liam replied, a small hint of frustration in his words before he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, covering his face for a moment before he sighed and leaned back. “Like I told you. Complicated. And you can’t tell anyone else who I have, Sam.” Liam’s gaze was intense then, focused on her in a way that Liam rarely focused on anything. “I mean that. I don’t want this getting out. You know there would be people who would react poorly,” and when he said that, he was thinking of Louis, of Loki, and the last thing he needed was dealing with that again.
"Yeah, yeah. Scout's fucking honor," she promised. She wasn't going to go around telling people he had a villain in his head. She hadn't told anyone about Neil having Erik before for the same fucking reason. "Just, have him be ok to Gwen, alright? And we should be fine," she assured him, though even Gwen didn't think Dr. Connors was a threat to her. He'd had a chance to kill her as the lizard, and he hadn't done it. No, it was the memories that came with Dr. Connors that were a problem, Sam knew, and she wasn't sure the teenager could deal with much more crap. For all her annoying nerd talk, Gwen was just a kid that had lost everything in one year. Yeah, there she went, feeling sorry for the brat. "I need to just not get attached to whoever lives in my fucking mind. Nothing good ever comes from it," she said, waving the waitress over for a fresh coffee.
“As far as I know, he’s no intentions on hurting anyone. But I’ll do my best to keep things between him and Gwen easy.” Liam wasn’t entirely sure how much his promise counted for, but he’d keep his word as best he could. Letting out a sigh, Liam ate another few bites off his pancakes before pushing the plate away, his stomach suddenly not in the mood for anything else to inhabit it. “And it might be easier to not be attached, but I believe it’s nearly impossible to keep it from happening,” he added a moment later, and then the waitress was there to top off both of their coffees. Liam managed a small smile in her direction before he turned his attention back to Sam once more. “Enough of the hotel and that bullshit. Let’s have a nice lunch. I’ve missed talking to you.” And there was a lot more he wanted to talk about, but maybe that would come later.