Re: Hotel lobby; Sam/Lou
[Louis listened, and walked close to Sam. Whatever he was thinking, it didn't show much in his expression, which seemed have been locked in a rictus of vague, grim concern for months now.
Every word somehow made things worse. He slid his hands into his pockets and struggled to connect the pieces together. Sam selling drugs to keep Neil in the house? That wasn't right. It couldn't be right. A hundred different offers came to his lips - he could have helped her with the money, could have helped her find another kind of work if she'd only asked - but they settled there, and hovered, and then died.
What was the point, really? Nothing he could say would come across as anything but pity or charity, and it would only wound her perverse pride in being able to pay her own bills by any means necessary. What could he say of the people who would be hurt? What would make them real, and not simply actors in a play they could all pretend didn't exist to make their own lives easier? If she didn't care who was hurt by the family business, then what did the reality of suffering matter?
And how could he blame her? After everything she'd been through, she had an obligation to take care of herself before strangers, to protect herself by any means necessary. In the grand scheme of things, it seemed somehow fair. But he felt like a wall had just slammed up between them, that she had positioned herself so firmly with their organization in the door that he would feel guilty and cruel if he tried to destroy it. It dawned on him that she wanted this. Nothing he could say would make that different, or change the reasons why it made sense to her.
He hadn't thought he could feel more disheartened by the collective experiences of his family. In his quest to fix every problem, yet again, he had only made things worse.] I understand. [What more was there to say? He was so tired. Maybe their siblings were better off with the undead than they were with each other.
The scene inside the door was totally unfamiliar. He glanced behind them and saw that she hadn't bothered to put in her key.] Alright. [The pulsing yellow thing in the dirt was foreign looking and bizarre, and just now, it was the last thing he wanted to get involved with.] Let's just duck back out. [All he wanted to do now was go home and rest a while before he decided whether or not he was leaving. It was starting to seem as if that was the only option left.] I have my key, I can let us in.