Re: Ocean's Eleven, PT: Meredith J/Sam A/Cris M
[Cris smiled over at Sam when her fingers found the flat backa his hand and tapped out garbled Morse code there, and he was going for reassuring, but he caught those tears pearling on angel-fine lashes, and he reached for her. It wouldn'tna mattered if Meredith could see, 'cause he was gonna do it, regardless, 'cause it was what felt right to do.—He reached, and if she let him, he drew her onto his lap, against him and held her in his arms, against sweater with collar popped stupid. He kissed haloing blonde at her temples, soothing, but it wasn't selfless, huh? 'Cause he needed her right then too. He needed her close, some kinda tether in the emotional storm that was that hospital room just then.
He wasn't a wallower. Cris. He didn't stop, not for nothing. He moved on, and, sure, stuff stuck with him, it reverberated through marrow and bone, tissue and sinew, lodged in joints and ate at him from the inside, but he didn't wallow. Wallowing had never done anybody any good that he could tell. It was just mucking it up in your own misery, selfish, when there were other things to do, people who needed you, better things just beyond the next sunrise. It sounded sappy, but the guy was an optimist. After everything he'd seen and everything he'd been through, he was an optimist, and he knew him and Sam would get through this. Lou and Neil too. Mere too. Eventually. If they all just did their best to get there, if they helped each other, like Sam and Cris were trying to help Meredith now.—Nah, they didn't really wanna see her, 'cause it was no secret they—or least Cris—didn't like the pelirroja, but it didn't really matter. 'Cause she needed people and Neil was no good at being needed.
But, Sam groaned when the woman on the bed said something routine and stupid in response to Cris' question 'bout them being there, and the guy closed his eyes, annoyance on his face.—Black snapped open over black, though, when Sam started talking, the latent, thin blood in blown-out veins boiling quick. And he was kinda surprised, huh? Surprised and not. Not, 'cause she was already on edge. But surprised by her words, 'cause it was hypocritical. Cris wasn't judging her for that, he just hadn't expected to hear it from her lips.—His gaze shifted to Meredith's hands, where they wrung knuckles bloodless, and he pushed palm up Sam's spine, frothing fingers into her hair, seeking, seeking.]
People don't do stuff just 'cause somebody else would do it for them, if positions were reversed. [Brows knitted together.] We're here, 'cause you don't gotta be alone. You got people. Nobody hasta do anything alone, huh? Now, if you choose to, that's on you, but we're here, huh? I don't wanna speak for Sam, but me, nah, I don't wanna be here. I know that don't make you feel good, but you already know it. But we don't always get what we want. I know you know that too. [He looked at the bandages, then back down to her hands.] We're here doin' our part, you gotta do yours. Neil sucks at alla this, huh? He needs you too, as much as you need him, so kick him in the ass about it. [Like a little kid, Cris pushed his nose against Sam's throat and he breathed there, holding onto her. And he didn't say anything else about it.]