He and Lou have been traveling for a while now. Having the car was all well and good until they got to the base of the mountain and had to keep going on foot. He's cold, he knows Lou must be cold, as much as he tries to keep her warm in her little sling against his chest.
It sucks, to put it mildly, that they have to go off the grid like this. But at least he knows a lot of preppers now, most of whom are very grateful to him. Some of whom are still distrustful enough of the UCA that he might be able to count on them to help hide him.
But he doesn't run into any of them. No, what he comes across is what he now knows to be Higgs's place. But at least the man himself is still on a Beach somewhere. Away from where he can do any harm.
So he steps into the house, pausing for a moment at the front to rub Lou's back, whistling a quiet lullaby to her to get her to stop crying.
To be frank, he doesn't know what's lead to him being back in the world of the living. There was no getting off of that Beach, and yet here he is. Among the living.
And the doesn't even have his goddamn mask with him.
No mask, no quipu.... not even that wretched BB doll. Not that he'd had a choice... but he's not making that mistake every again. Fuck helping people; he'd rather be alone.
He manages to make it to his shelter— despite giving Sam his location, there isn't a single sign the Bridges has gone through his stuff. The books and pizza are all right where he left it when he'd been convinced he'd never see the place again.
He doesn't even bother turning the climate control on to warm the place back up, he just collapses onto his cot still covered in tar, sand, and blood.
Right. Time to get himself and Louise settled. She seems calm enough now. Maybe the two of them can get some sleep before they head out in the morning.
So he moves down further into the house and opens the inner door -- and freezes. No, it couldn't be possible. Fragile had left him on the Beach, hadn't she?
"Higgs, what the fuck?" is all he can think of to say as he stands, stupidly, in the doorway, staring down at Higgs on the cot.
The voice is enough to stir Higgs awake, who frankly looks baffled and more than a little alarmed. His first instinct is to pull the hood up over his face, which... honestly doesn't do much at all, but at the very least it's enough for him to be able to look at Sam.
"Sammy boy! And here I was thinkin' I'd never see you again."
"Pretty sure I left you on a Beach." His hand comes up protectively over Lou's back. Muscles tensing. Ready to take her and run at the first sign of a fight.
Sam is woken up by Lou crying next to him. Wailing, kicking her feet, shaking her little fists. A real all out tantrum. "Hey, shhshhshh," he murmurs sleepily, sitting up and pulling her against his chest. When that doesn't immediately calm her, he moves up into the entryway to pace back and forth, bouncing her gently. Singing the lullaby to her.
It doesn't take much to wake Higgs, though maybe that's not a surprise when any porter who spends significant time on the surface learns to be a light sleeper in a hurry. He sits up, eyeing Sam and Lou carefully. Sam's got this, probably, but at least he's awake if Sam decides Higgs really needs baby duty, too.
Probably not, though. The kid isn't going to trust Higgs, and he doesn't doubt for a moment that she remembers him well. He watches Sam drowsily, but doesn't offer much more than acknowledgement.
The kid does not, and she tries to make that as clear as she can. Wailing at the top of her tiny lungs, flailing her fists even as Sam tries to calm her down. "Hey, hey, come on," Sam murmurs at her, kissing the top of her head, rubbing her back.
He's not much of a singer, but he tries anyway. "See the sun set, the day is ending..." Lou seems surprised more than pleased, but it gets her to stop crying for the moment. "There we go. Let that yawn out, there's no pretending... you okay now, Lou?"
She catches sight of Higgs again, and while she doesn't start wailing like she was before, she does make a disgruntled noise as she curls up against Sam's chest. "Okay. There we go. No crisis, okay?"
Higgs can't help the smile, even as the kid starts to calm. He'll try and make it up for her, if he can. Show her that he's a different person without the Extinction Entity pulling his strings.
"A big new bed all for you. How about that, kiddo? And blankets. And clothes. Buncha little onesies for you, so you're all snug."
The noises she's making are closer to contented than before, so he takes that as a good sign. "Sorry we woke you," he says to Higgs, still swaying with Lou in his arms, still rubbing at her back. "You wanna start putting in an order for breakfast, and maybe some stuff for her? I can get her formula started."
It's certainly been an interesting few days, settling in. Sam been sleeping on the floor beside Lou's crib, due to the lack of furniture. But after some discussion, even Higgs agreed that the place could use a little rearranging. Especially since they're all going to be there long term, in looks like.
So they'd put in an order for a few beds, and Sam had ordered a piece of artwork from the Chiral Artist. Something to replace the creepy fucking board with his face all over it.
"I figure if we rearrange some of the tables, we can fit the two beds in here just fine."
Sam has proven to be an... interesting roommate. Not that Higgs has ever had any; he's always lived on the go, moving from one place to the next too often to settle down anywhere.
"Probably," Higgs says, staring at some of the tables still strewn about the shelter. There really isn't a lot of space in here. He hadn't really been living, after all. "Might as well just toss some of 'em, we don't need all of them."
"I'm thinking we should also take down the stuff on that wall, too," he says, gesturing to all the pictures of him. "I got a piece of art that could go up there, instead."
Learning more about Higgs as a person has definitely been interesting. Sam feels a strange sort of ease around him, somehow. Conversation comes more easily with him than it has with most other people. If asked, he couldn't explain why, but he finds he doesn't mind it.
A good chunk of the pictures are already off the wall, but the insane scrawlings of a man captured by the Extinction Entity don't exactly come off with soap and water. He's not sure what to say in response to Sam, so he's quiet for a moment. "Sure, I don't have any complaints about that. Might help it look less like a cave."
Not that any shelter doesn't look cavernous. If it weren't for the climate control, the small shelter would be almost unbearably cold.
"Make it a little more like a home." It's nice, that Higgs had been trying to clean off the walls a little. Sam knows it's not -- him. That it was Amelie's influence that had made him so obsessed. Knows because that same influence had driven him to travel thousands of miles, mostly on foot, to set up her network.
He still doesn't like thinking about it. What they went through because of her.
"I was thinking if we put all the books together in one or two cabinets, there would be plenty of cabinet space to have a little pantry, you know? Some canned and jarred things, some bread maybe. We could get a hot plate to cook things on. One of those little fridges, to keep some fresh things like milk or eggs. Really make this place useable." The more he plans, the less time he has to think about everything before this.
Drake's not a therapist. He's had a lot of therapy, but not even the type that Sam probably needs. Still, he wants to help. This city's hard enough to survive without touch issues, and with them? He can't imagine the stress Sam's under right now. So he's made the place as comfortable as possible -- there are snacks, soft pillows on the couch, his partner's out until dinner and the tv's on a nature channel for some background noise. When the other man arrives they can put on something else to watch, or nothing at all... they can just talk, if Sam would prefer. He's definitely winging it here, but figures that his best attempt is better than nothing.
There are lion cubs playing on the screen when the knock on the door comes. Drake gets up off the couch and crosses to open the door.
Sam's all nerves. He feels like he's going to jump out of his skin or something. Vibrate away into the night. But he's here, he's going to try this.
He stands in front of the door for a good few minutes before he manages to knock. Then Drake answers and Sam gives a small wave in greeting. "Uh, hey. Thanks." The place looks... cozy. Much nicer than his apartment. And a helluvalot nicer than any of the waystations he'd stayed at in distro centres at home.
The Up apartments are pretty fancy to begin with, and Drake's taken efforts to make his place look like he lives there. The biggest thing Sam will notice as he comes in are the murals on the walls, hand painted by Drake's partner. The living room is a jungle scene, and he's gotten accents to match. That's where he leads Sam to, and there's snacks out on the coffee table.
"How about you unwind a little first? Sit down, we can talk -- you want a drink? I'll grab you something."
The murals are impressive. And a huge difference from the stark white and grey walls of the distro station bedrooms. Makes the place look like an actual home, instead of just a place to stay.
He steps back into the kitchen, and there's the sound of clinking bottles and then a drawer opening. When Drake comes back he's got two beer and a bottle opener, and he comes and sits down on the couch with Sam.
"I thought we could just hang out, talk, find something to watch so your focus isn't totally on contact? And go from there."
Honestly, he's not sure what to do in this particular situation. And it is a very... particular situation. Drake isn't his Dom, but he's still willing to help him with his -- problem.
So fuck it. On his way over for dinner, Sam picks up some flowers. A half dozen red roses. Simple, classic. Too much? Maybe, fuck.
Whatever, it's done already. He knocks on Drake's door and tries to breathe.
The key word Sam isn't considering is 'yet.' He still has plenty of time to choose who to contract with, but quota is a more pressing issue. One that Drake is pretty optimistic about after their first meeting... Sam had been more tolerant of contact than he'd expected. Even if it had gone poorly he'd still be willing to help, though. Anything to keep someone out of realignment, especially someone with the specific issue Sam had.
Dinner's nearly finished when there's a knock on the door, and Drake crosses the apartment to open it. The man standing on the other side is who he expected, but what he's holding is a surprise.
"Hey, Sam. Good to see you." He steps back to let Sam in, gaze flicking down to the flowers again but not saying anything about them just yet. It'd be pretty awkward if they weren't for him, after all. "Dinner's almost ready... can I get you a drink?"
"Where I'm from, we don't have a lot of flowers left. But I've read about it, seen it in movies. This is what you do when you have dinner with someone, right?" His smile is small and lopsided, self deprecating. But it's there.
"Anyway, yeah. I'll uh, I'll take a beer, if you have one."
Drake was already smiling just in greeting, but the explanation is very charming. Enough that his grin broadens and dimples his cheeks.
"Flowers for a date are a thing, yeah..." he closes the door behind Sam and leads the way back to the kitchen. "I've never actually had anyone get them for me before, though. Thank you."
There's beer in the fridge, as usual. Drake fetches one and holds both his hands one, one offering the beer and the other open to accept the flowers. It feels odd to be the one receiving them but societal gender expectations are bullshit anyway. He doesn't see the point in explaining something he doesn't even buy into when Sam bringing them is, frankly, adorable.
The paint arrives not long after it's ordered. Such is the customer service at Bridges. Though honestly, half the fun is listening to Higgs spin the wildest tales as to why they need what they've ordered. Are they necessary? Probably not. But they provide some entertainment for both of them, and god knows they need that.
Sam cracks open a can and takes a peek, smiling a little. "Would you look at that. Sky blue."
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for [finalrequest]
It sucks, to put it mildly, that they have to go off the grid like this. But at least he knows a lot of preppers now, most of whom are very grateful to him. Some of whom are still distrustful enough of the UCA that he might be able to count on them to help hide him.
But he doesn't run into any of them. No, what he comes across is what he now knows to be Higgs's place. But at least the man himself is still on a Beach somewhere. Away from where he can do any harm.
So he steps into the house, pausing for a moment at the front to rub Lou's back, whistling a quiet lullaby to her to get her to stop crying.
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And the doesn't even have his goddamn mask with him.
No mask, no quipu.... not even that wretched BB doll. Not that he'd had a choice... but he's not making that mistake every again. Fuck helping people; he'd rather be alone.
He manages to make it to his shelter— despite giving Sam his location, there isn't a single sign the Bridges has gone through his stuff. The books and pizza are all right where he left it when he'd been convinced he'd never see the place again.
He doesn't even bother turning the climate control on to warm the place back up, he just collapses onto his cot still covered in tar, sand, and blood.
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So he moves down further into the house and opens the inner door -- and freezes. No, it couldn't be possible. Fragile had left him on the Beach, hadn't she?
"Higgs, what the fuck?" is all he can think of to say as he stands, stupidly, in the doorway, staring down at Higgs on the cot.
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"Sammy boy! And here I was thinkin' I'd never see you again."
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[the next morning]
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Probably not, though. The kid isn't going to trust Higgs, and he doesn't doubt for a moment that she remembers him well. He watches Sam drowsily, but doesn't offer much more than acknowledgement.
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He's not much of a singer, but he tries anyway. "See the sun set, the day is ending..." Lou seems surprised more than pleased, but it gets her to stop crying for the moment. "There we go. Let that yawn out, there's no pretending... you okay now, Lou?"
She catches sight of Higgs again, and while she doesn't start wailing like she was before, she does make a disgruntled noise as she curls up against Sam's chest. "Okay. There we go. No crisis, okay?"
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Higgs can't help the smile, even as the kid starts to calm. He'll try and make it up for her, if he can. Show her that he's a different person without the Extinction Entity pulling his strings.
"We gotta give her a nice, fancy bed."
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The noises she's making are closer to contented than before, so he takes that as a good sign. "Sorry we woke you," he says to Higgs, still swaying with Lou in his arms, still rubbing at her back. "You wanna start putting in an order for breakfast, and maybe some stuff for her? I can get her formula started."
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making a home
So they'd put in an order for a few beds, and Sam had ordered a piece of artwork from the Chiral Artist. Something to replace the creepy fucking board with his face all over it.
"I figure if we rearrange some of the tables, we can fit the two beds in here just fine."
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"Probably," Higgs says, staring at some of the tables still strewn about the shelter. There really isn't a lot of space in here. He hadn't really been living, after all. "Might as well just toss some of 'em, we don't need all of them."
Maybe a new coat of paint, too.
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Learning more about Higgs as a person has definitely been interesting. Sam feels a strange sort of ease around him, somehow. Conversation comes more easily with him than it has with most other people. If asked, he couldn't explain why, but he finds he doesn't mind it.
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Not that any shelter doesn't look cavernous. If it weren't for the climate control, the small shelter would be almost unbearably cold.
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He still doesn't like thinking about it. What they went through because of her.
"I was thinking if we put all the books together in one or two cabinets, there would be plenty of cabinet space to have a little pantry, you know? Some canned and jarred things, some bread maybe. We could get a hot plate to cook things on. One of those little fridges, to keep some fresh things like milk or eggs. Really make this place useable." The more he plans, the less time he has to think about everything before this.
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dup au
Drake's not a therapist. He's had a lot of therapy, but not even the type that Sam probably needs. Still, he wants to help. This city's hard enough to survive without touch issues, and with them? He can't imagine the stress Sam's under right now. So he's made the place as comfortable as possible -- there are snacks, soft pillows on the couch, his partner's out until dinner and the tv's on a nature channel for some background noise. When the other man arrives they can put on something else to watch, or nothing at all... they can just talk, if Sam would prefer. He's definitely winging it here, but figures that his best attempt is better than nothing.
There are lion cubs playing on the screen when the knock on the door comes. Drake gets up off the couch and crosses to open the door.
"Hey, Sam. Come on in."
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He stands in front of the door for a good few minutes before he manages to knock. Then Drake answers and Sam gives a small wave in greeting. "Uh, hey. Thanks." The place looks... cozy. Much nicer than his apartment. And a helluvalot nicer than any of the waystations he'd stayed at in distro centres at home.
"How do you want to do this?"
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"How about you unwind a little first? Sit down, we can talk -- you want a drink? I'll grab you something."
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"Sure. I'll take a beer, if you've got it."
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He steps back into the kitchen, and there's the sound of clinking bottles and then a drawer opening. When Drake comes back he's got two beer and a bottle opener, and he comes and sits down on the couch with Sam.
"I thought we could just hang out, talk, find something to watch so your focus isn't totally on contact? And go from there."
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omg the latest tag in the world
<3
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for [braveoff]
So fuck it. On his way over for dinner, Sam picks up some flowers. A half dozen red roses. Simple, classic. Too much? Maybe, fuck.
Whatever, it's done already. He knocks on Drake's door and tries to breathe.
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Dinner's nearly finished when there's a knock on the door, and Drake crosses the apartment to open it. The man standing on the other side is who he expected, but what he's holding is a surprise.
"Hey, Sam. Good to see you." He steps back to let Sam in, gaze flicking down to the flowers again but not saying anything about them just yet. It'd be pretty awkward if they weren't for him, after all. "Dinner's almost ready... can I get you a drink?"
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"Anyway, yeah. I'll uh, I'll take a beer, if you have one."
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"Flowers for a date are a thing, yeah..." he closes the door behind Sam and leads the way back to the kitchen. "I've never actually had anyone get them for me before, though. Thank you."
There's beer in the fridge, as usual. Drake fetches one and holds both his hands one, one offering the beer and the other open to accept the flowers. It feels odd to be the one receiving them but societal gender expectations are bullshit anyway. He doesn't see the point in explaining something he doesn't even buy into when Sam bringing them is, frankly, adorable.
"Trade you?"
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for [finalrequest]
Sam cracks open a can and takes a peek, smiling a little. "Would you look at that. Sky blue."