Thrown out and locked up (scömìche)

Chapter 13

Mitch raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, "So you're not mad about the whole bank robbery thing?" He asked tentatively. It only seemed logical for an adult, several years older than him, to disapprove of his antics even though desperation drove them.

Dimples formed in Sam's cheeks as his mouth quirked up, "Trust me, I've done a lot worse for a lot less." He wasn't proud but he knew it was the best way to comfort the young man. He'd been in his position on a few occasions. He knew the hardships and pains that accompanied that time.

"I just don't know what to do from now on," He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His dark eyes focused on the dust forming on the lines between the floorboards, "I can't go back... I can't really stay here for too long." He gestured around awkwardly. Sam was a recluse. He valued his privacy and was used to being alone. To invade the space the man intentionally set up far away from another single human being would be uncountably rude and possibly disrespectful.

Sam sighed, running his tongue over his bottom lip, he sat in thought, "Look, I'm heading out for Kansas a week tomorrow. If you want we can make plans for then. Allow the heat from the cops to die down a little first then you can go anywhere you want." He answered carefully, not wanting to sound as though he was trying to get rid of the man, "I can get you a truck, a good one to last even these roads, and a couple thousand bucks to help you on your way. I can arrange fake ID if you'd need it." He considered for a couple of moments more, "If it doesn't work out, there is no shame in coming back up here. It's my base and what's mine is yours, brother." Sam said casually, straightening the buttons on his plaid shirt.

Mitch went to speak, his mouth opening then snapping shut when his cell buzzed from inside his bag. Sam's hazel eyes snapped to the bag and smirked.

"That's him, isn't it?"

Mitch pulled out the cell to check the message before responding. The message was from Scott. He nodded in confirmation.

"What about with him?" Sam's voice held hope.

"With Scott? What with Scott?" Bewildered, he blinked up at the bizarre man.

Rolling his eyes, the owner of the cabin leant forward slightly to rest his arms against his thighs, "You could live with him? Obviously you'd need to ask and organize it but... Theoretically, would be allow you to stay. Are you at that point in your relationship?"

Mitch huffed out a breath. He'd considered asking Scott out on dates previous to the disastrous bank robbery but now it almost seemed completely off the playing board. He hadn't even considered it since. It didn't seem ridiculously out of the question for Scott to take Mitch in but he didn't want to make the man feel as though he had to or was trapped into an agreement.

Nodding slightly, Mitch took a breath, "I can ask."

Once the words were spoken it felt almost final. As though, he really had to go through and ask Scott because he'd told Sam. 

Crap, he thought.

---
It was several hours later and Mitch stood on the porch of the snow laden cabin as the crackly silence echoed through the cheap cell. For a moment he thought that perhaps he'd lost signal as the reception in Sam's cabin, up on the mountain, often came and went spasmodically. He decided to give it a couple more seconds.

It wasn't until he heard the soft crackle of breath that he knew he was still connected. He waited with baited breath for Scott to speak and give his final answer.

It felt like an age but in reality, it only lasted a few minutes. The man, thousands of miles away spoke, breaking the pregnant silence.

"Yeah, okay. I'm up for that."

His words were anti-climatic but the relief flooded through Mitch making his legs wobble like jelly. His hand grabbed out from the wall for support. For once in his life, he'd found this certainty. He didn't have to just roam in the hopes he'll eventually stumble upon somewhere to stay. Hope bloomed in his chest and he smiled a strong smile.