#b3ached

❝ I didn't initially realise that not everyone can see BTs. ❞

IT'D BEEN QUITE THE REVELATION. Particularly given that he, someone who was not from this era of Earth's existence, could. While cautious, his initial reaction hadn't been that of fear. After all, he'd handled similar phenomena back home. However, it'd only taken some basic research to realise that, quite possibly, he hadn't been cautious enough.

A LESSON LEARNED. Still, the innately scientific cognition began to wonder.

❝ Does the technology exist to allow them to be visible to people without DOOMS? Bar BBs, of course. ❞

SAM HAD DEALT WITH THEM ENOUGH, SUPPOSEDLY. Perhaps he was in a position to share some insight.

the  porter  shifts  in  place,  an  uncomfortable  feeling  of  being  perceived  prickling  up  his  spine.  fragile's  too  keen,  sees  right  through  him,  and  there's  no  hiding  from  this  fact,  even  to  his  best  attempt. 

his life could never be simple, but maybe sam should've expected that going forward since the day he became cognizant of the beach. life would always be different under the death stranding, but any attempts at normalcy evaded him. ❝ it's no problem. ❞ sam helps work the zipper down on fragile's dress — focuses on the warmth of her and not the exhaustion that sits on his shoulders. ( he's hardly a people person on his better days, but damn well not a crowd person no matter what. ) and yet he's here, playing at ... what exactly ?

maybe he should've stayed gone like he intended. no worries besides what he was going to feed lou for that day; what new recipes he could inflict upon his daughter so she didn't become a picky eater. normal things. ( now he's replacing die-hardman — stepping into a role he never wanted yet is begrudgingly filling for a reason he hasn't quite been able to define yet. ) it's a lot to get used to, along with ensuring he remains available for lou at all times and now, admittedly, for fragile too.

❝ i wouldn't want to bother you, ❞ he admits. ( not sure what to define what they are, but she's become his rock in most situations once again. ) sam feels out of his element — too vulnerable and exposed, even despite knowing that fragile would never judge him. she's got a lot of faith in him when she shouldn't and maybe … maybe he doesn't want to disappoint.

his  days  are  primarily  spent  annoying  the  likes  of  fragile  and  sam.  petty  little  feats  to  keep  himself  entertained  as  he's  forced  to  use  the  mech  body  as  his  own  rests,  detoxing  and  acclimating  after  finally  being  removed  from  the  beach.  (  caged  once  again  and  so  he'll  take  his  petty  delights.  they  can't  fix  him,  so  they'll  subdue  instead.  higgs  hardly  makes  it  easy.  )  so,  here  he  stands  like  a  victorious  child,  holding  the  ring  above  fragile's  head  as  she  tries  to  take  it  back.

not  quite  understanding  the  fuss  behind  it,  the  mech  brings  it  closer  to  his  face,  finally  inspecting  the  little  thing.

oh.

it's one of their rare moments of peace and quiet, tucked cozily in fragile's room. she lies with her back to his chest, his arm draped heavy across her bare waist. ( often times sam comes back much later, fragile already asleep and so she misses out on seeing him. though she's told him countless times that she doesn't mind him coming to her room after he returns, asleep or not, but he still insists on using his room as to not disturb her. he's frustrating as he is endearing. ) sighing contentedly, fragile soaks up his warmth with eyes closed.

she doesn't hear it initially, or rather, the words feel so natural between them that fragile doesn't react immediately. it takes a moment ( and the squeezing of his hand on her waist ) before it truly registers. ❝ sam ? ❞ she says quietly, yet fragile can't help herself and wait for his response — moving out of his grasp so that she can turn to face him properly. ❝ sam, ❞ fragile says again softly. a palm placed gently against his cheek, her lips curl into a happy smile ( he loves her and it makes her feel giddy ). fragile kisses him then, can't help herself as she peppers kiss after kiss against his lips — her adoration all-encompassing. ❝ i love you too, sam, ❞ fragile whispers.

he'd started to complain at first, tried to shoo fragile away before she could step into his personal space. make this whole thing into something it's not. ( because he said so, that's the truth he's going with. ) that promptly resulted in a slap to his arm and her face twisted up into a scowl. though higgs sits dutifully, it doesn't mean he's going to reign in being a pain in the ass.

“ m' not a kid, fragile. i can wash my own face, ” grumbled between each swipe of the cloth against his face. he's being mothered. “ n' that waters boilin'. y' tryin' t' ruin this pretty face ? ”

if  it  were  anyone  else  he'd  have  removed  the  limb  entirely,  indulgent  of  their  pained  screams  as  they  bled  to  death.  yet  sam's  always  the  outlier,  the  one  who  treads  thin  ice  and  makes  it  unscathed  —  for  the  most  part.  with  higgs  at  his  doorstep,  it's  all  but  his  duty  to  ensure  sam  doesn't  have  a  boring  life,  make  him  beg  for  a  normalcy  not  destined  for  him.  it  made  the  crash  to  reality  all  the  sweeter,  seeing  how  sam  struggled  with  the  knowledge.  this  instance  between  them  is  no  different,  predatory  words  having  left  gold-stained  lips  —  something  juvenile  and  not  quite  worth  a  reaction,  but  higgs  has  burrowed  underneath  sam's  skin  perfectly  that  even  that,  it  seems,  sets  sam  off.