[ic] but it's written in the starlight

[goldstarburst]

Sam checks the exits of the white space for the fourth time. For the fourth time, there are none; for fuck's sake. He slides his thumbs into his pockets, wishing he had a gun, or a knife. Or Sora's ASP.

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[willowandoak]

The second Ren appears, he—you'll never guess what—checks the room for exits, only to find none. Par for the course, honestly. His lip curls in a snarl anyway.

For once, he keeps his hands out of his pockets. This is an Evoker situation. The look he gives Quinn could cut glass. "Sorry you don't have your police brutality stick. Must be rough."

[goldstarburst]

Sam has drawn himself to his full height, and it's nothing like Ren's unimposing friend. He's broader, stronger, clad in leather and denim, and entirely unapologetic. He gauges Ren in his entirety with a single glance. "Stay on your side of the room, and it won't be an issue."

It's not aggressive, not offensive. It's just a fact. The magic shit is an issue, but what has Sam always done with difficult, unpredictable things? He defuses them.

[willowandoak]

Fury floods him, so sudden and sharp that his lips part. Caradoc, usually quiet and steady, hisses his own displeasure. Quinn's attempt to intimidate him with his size, as if Ren scampers off like a scared mouse when someone's taller than him, as if he's never fought off a big man in his line of work—the flat command, worse than any posturing—

"Really? As long as I know my place, you won't have to hurt me? That's so nice of you, officer!"

[goldstarburst]

Like the kids who spat at him when he was in uniform. Like the kids who threw rocks on the streets of Basra, or stood and watched in silence in Helmand. Those same dark, judgemental eyes. Sam holds his ground, and stills himself to his skin.

"I'm not a cop any more. Didn't have what it took." He thinks about it a bit more, then adds, "If it makes you feel better, I mean."

[willowandoak]

They're always saying this. First Hasegawa, now...

"You sure fucking know how to act like one." But he is, at least, not any angrier than he was a moment ago, which is a change in trajectory.

[goldstarburst]

"I'm using the tools I've got." To protect the one he loves, though he doesn't come out with that one. What wouldn't he do to protect Sora? Ren is doing the same, using what he was taught, what he's learned. "No more than that."

He also doesn't say that it's not a police demeanour Ren is seeing. He knows there may be little or no difference.

[willowandoak]

"Nothing else in your toolbox except cops?" He gives Quinn a searing once-over. "What a fucking waste."

[goldstarburst]

Ugh. No point dwelling on the unfairness of that one. No point expecting someone to acknowledge the lives saved, when they think you shouldn't even have been there. Even Sam toys with that, at his lowest: Sora's idea that it really was for nothing at all. And it's not just Sora who thinks that.

"You sound like my dad." Not harsh, not pointed. Okay, maybe just a little pointed. Let's see what the kid does with a softball.

[willowandoak]

What Ren does is point at Quinn in triumph as his eyes light up. "I knew it! I knew your family had to be fucked up."

[goldstarburst]

And Sam stares at him for a long moment, eyes wide. Just a shadow, there, of the boy Ren knows—the one that's so proud of his family, and is clearly so hurt by their loss. He pulls it back under cover fast. "You won't get any argument from me on that."

He doesn't say that it's all his fault, either.

[willowandoak]

He squints at Quinn, disarmed. "The real you acts like the sun shines out of their ass. Real fucking annoying, if you want to know."

[goldstarburst]

The real him. As if there aren't a dozen of him, all just as real. Sam doesn't relax his stance, but he doesn't argue, either. "He's younger."

Not the truth. Not really. Sam had already fucked it at eighteen.

[willowandoak]

He considers this.

"What's gonna happen to him? With his family?"

Quinn has, unfortunately, gotten him through the worry for his friend route. At least a little.

[goldstarburst]

And Sam thaws just a little in return. Just enough to look away, at the infinite white horizon. Jesus Christ, the glasshouse would be better.

"He'll be fine. One of us worked for the Antichrist and kept his family. They'll never cut him off." Unless he does something to deserve it, Sam does not say.

[willowandoak]

"Oh, yeah, I've heard about that shit."

He doesn't like to think about it. He has the strong impression that he'd end up on the tyrant God's side out of sheer revulsion for Sora and BrightStar, which, it's safe to say, doesn't please him.

"So they won't cut him off, they'll just tell him he's a fuckup?"

[goldstarburst]

Sam thinks about it. His lip turns out in a glimpse of humanity. Tell him he's a fuckup—no, Sam had never been made to feel like that. He'd been given every chance. He owed most of his strength and athleticism to his dad—without him, Sam has a feeling he'd have aged into just reading books until he died.

If he'd gone to Oxford, he knows his dad would have kept on in just that way—cranky, but proud. Sam would have done what he was supposed to.

He sighs. "No. They won't ever tell him that."

[willowandoak]

Sharp-eyed, Ren watches the progression of Quinn's thoughts, listens to his tone when he replies. Thinks about the Sam he knows.

"Let me guess. They're so nice, just as long as you meet expectations."

[goldstarburst]

Sam doesn't confirm or deny—or at least, he doesn't answer. He just looks at Ren with the shutters over his bleakness, which is an answer in itself.

[willowandoak]

"Uh-huh." Ren's lip curls again. "You're better off."

[goldstarburst]

He looks over, recognising the brittleness, the mirroring shutters. "You too, is it?"

Nice, so long as you meet expectations. That didn't come from nowhere.

[willowandoak]

"Something like that."

Lest Quinn get too comfortable, he adds, "But dude, you can piss off your family without going into the fucking army. Or being a cop."

[goldstarburst]

—and Sam grins at him, a humourless, lopsided flash of teeth, there and gone again, more like something Ren might have expected from his Goro than from Sam. "You're right."

There are better ways to piss off a family. There certainly were easier ways to piss off Auden. But that was never why Sam did it.

[willowandoak]

It hurts, unexpectedly, to see that look on Sam's face, even if the face is older and wrong. Ren's mouth twists. Igor has a lot to answer for.

[goldstarburst]

He looks away, allowing Ren a moment of privacy; the risk at this point, he judges, is minimal. Ren is no older than Sam was when he chose Cambridge, and he's already fought most of his war.

[willowandoak]

He wants so badly to fight for Sam, the wide-eyed earnest idealist he knows from the Velvet Room, but there's nothing to fight about. It makes him restless.

"Why aren't you a cop anymore?" he asks curtly.