Gone Too Far (SamandColby)

Chapter 15: Talking

If Colby had to describe his relationship with Sam, he would have picked a lot of words.  Supportive, loving, fun, a partnership.  Awkward was never a word that would have entered his vocabulary.

Except that now it had.

And as the girls chatted, allowing him and Sam to mostly sit in quiet, Colby became aware of this hole of anxiety in his chest that felt like it wrapped around all his internal organs.

He and Sam needed to talk.  But God, Colby did not want to have this conversation.

There were too many fucking factors, like how much Sam knew, how much Colby wanted to tell him if he didn't remember much, how much Colby was willing to take on to help Sam with the guilt if he didn't remember any of it...

But Katrina knew them.  She knew them both so well.  And it was after maybe an hour of chatting and Kat looking between him and Sam that she broke the conversation.  "Hey Stas, you wanna come with me?  I wanted to grab some things from the house for the boys."

Colby knew immediately what she was doing.  Stas seemed to as well, not disagreeing with the plan as she immediately stood and started collecting her things.  Colby looked at Sam, who's eyes had moved from over his shoulder back to his face.

There was matching anxiety in both their faces.  Which was stupid.  He and Sam had talked about literally everything there was to talk about.

Except demon possession.  And what they would do if a demon possessed one of them to torture and rape the other.

"You guys gonna be okay?" Stas asked, looking between both of them, but her stare ending at Colby.

He set his jaw, swallowing and nodded.  "Yeah, I'll take care of him."

Not that there was really much he could do right now, confined to a wheelchair and a broken wrist and ankle.  But he wasn't going to focus on that, because the frustration at his helplessness was definitely triggering some sort of trauma based anxiety in him.

"Call us if you think of anything you need," Katrina told them, and Sam said a few things, but Colby's anxiety had really swallowed up most of his processing of that whole exchange.

And then Colby and Sam were alone in the room together.

Sam's gaze had followed Katrina out of the room, but when the door closed, his attention turned back to Colby.  He tried to pull the blankets up a little bit and winced.  "Watch your chest, dude," Colby warned him, using his good leg and good hand to wheel slightly closer.  "That's gonna be a hell of a scar."

"Fuck, right?" Sam said, his fingers finding the dressings and tracing over the center of his chest.  "Who knew that was how they fixed..." His voice trailed off, and Colby got a violent flashback.

"Sam!" Colby felt the scream rip out of him like nothing else he'd ever felt.  He dragged himself over to Sam, broken wrist and ankle he damned.  "Sam, fuck, shit, Sam!" He ripped off his hoodie, pressing it to Sam's chest to try to staunch the blood flow.  "What the fuck, man, what the fuck?" 

"Sam..." He pulled his brain back to reality with considerable effort, dispelling the bloody images from his mind.  Sam was here.  Sam was whole, in one piece.  He'd just have a gnarly scar on his chest when it healed.  "Dude... what... fuck..." He shook his head.  "I don't... I don't even know where to start."

Sam's eyes flashed over to the window, then back to him.  "Fuck, dude, I'm..." HIs voice was thickening again.  "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I know, man, I told you, I know it wasn't you," Colby repeated, not even knowing how many times he'd said it. "I just..." He tried to shove the memories from his mind.  It hadn't been Sam.  It hadn't been.  "Why... I mean, how much were you aware of?"  He supposed that was the first thing he needed to know.  How much of this apologizing was Sam assuming responsibility and how much of it was him actually know what happened.  "And why did you..." He gestured at his own chest, not wanting to say it.