The States

(i don't know how not to love you- three)

March 3, 1858- Philadelphia, PA
Alfred recalls them, and they all pretend not to know why.

It takes two years for the war to begin.

June 10, 1861- Philadelphia, PA
Kendall is yelling, and it takes Foster a minute to realize he's yelling at Sam.

"What did you do?! Why would you think this was a good idea? They're still family, Massachusetts." He spits out her state name like an insult.

Sam doesn't even blink. "I did what was necessary, and it is necessary because they are family, but they aren't our allies anymore."

Foster moves to stand beside Del, because she's usually the sensible one. "What's happening?"

"Sam warded the house," Del replies after a moment of hesitation. "Against the confederates."

August 1861
The first time Sam meets the Confederacy on a battlefield, he smiles at her.

And then: "Little Samantha, I would think Alfred wouldn't let you out all alone anymore, knowing what happened all those years ago."

With just one sentence, he's revealed that he knows.

With one sentence, he gets in her head and shakes her so thoroughly that she doesn't speak to Del the whole way home.

September 12, 1861- Philadelphia, PA
The first time Salem deigns to acknowledge Foster, it's after Sam has worked herself into exhaustion.

It feels like taking liberties when he picks her up, but she can't sleep on the desk. He moves as quickly as he can without waking her up. Her bedroom door is a struggle, but he manages to open it eventually.

Salem is perched on the headboard, tail tucked close to his body, but he perks up when Foster opens the door and hisses when he sees Sam in his arms.

Foster settles Sam down, and goes for her boots because no, she can't sleep in those and Salem jumps off the headboard and bites his hand where it's on her bootlaces.

Foster yanks his hand back with muttered curses and Salem still stands protectively perched over Sam's legs and speaks.

Foster never gets used to talking animals, no matter how many times he sees either of the Virginias' pastel familiars or Pax or Genevieve. Familiars didn't make sense and he preferred to stay away from them.

"Don't touch her." Salem growls, sharp canines showing. Foster holds his hands up in surrender.

"Just her boots. She can't sleep in them."

Salem's chartreuse eyes flicker the half-laced boot Foster had tried to get off, and he sits down beside Sam's legs.

It's as close to permission as he'll get.

He works as fast as possible and sets Sam's boots down on the floor by the foot of her bed and leaves.

He glances back long enough to see Salem settling down in the crook of Sam's arm, laying his head on her ribs like he's waiting for the rise and fall of her chest.

Perhaps familiars make a little sense, after all.

January 3, 1862- Philadelphia, PA
Sam watches the way Salem nips at Foster's ankles in bewilderment.

"Salem likes you." She says.

Foster raises an eyebrow. "He just tried to bite me."

She shakes her head. "No, that was just a nip. It was almost playful."