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Shane focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
He wasn’t drunk, but it became a bit of a habit to watch the ground as he walked, especially walking home from the saloon at night.
It was a bit chilly. The hush of distant wind fought the crickets for the soundtrack of early fall.
But then there was another sound as he turned on to Willow Lane— rhythmic thrumming that had to be manmade. It drew Shane in until he realized it was the strumming of an acoustic guitar.
It was coming from an open window in the Howard house, the only one with a light on.
Shane left the path to approach it without really thinking.
He could hear words being sung softly, a rasp almost drowned out by the guitar. The words only became distinct when he had made it to the side of the house. He leaned against it just outside of the aura of light and listened.
“When everything feels like the movies… yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive.”
Shane frowned to himself. Sam’s voice cracked with emotion as he sang. It was odd to hear him like this, singing something that seemed too dark for golden retriever Sam.
The strumming became more aggressive and louder, just before his voice, too, became more powerful.
“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand.”
The explosive power of it struck him first, Shane’s heart racing even though it was just a stupid song. But it imprinted the words under his skin in a way he couldn’t shake even if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to listen anymore. Didn’t want to think about what the words meant and just how much they resonated.
But he was stuck.
“When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am…”
Everything was made to be broken. Broken, or die. At least that was something Shane could agree with.
I just want you to know who I am.
Shane mulled over the words as Sam trailed off repeating the same guitar chords.
Buh, it was stupid. Anything that got him thinking depressing shit wasn’t worth thinking about.
Shane turned and stepped back towards the path.
The music stopped abruptly with a cacophonous thunk before light flooded the grass and practically flashbanged him.
Shane lifted his hand to shield his eyes and squinted to see that Sam had pulled the curtain open.
“Shane?”
“No,” Shane gruffed.
Sam snorted but it sounded halfway to a sniffle. He wiped his face and plastered his usual smile back on, as bright as the light streaming behind him. “You enjoying the show?”
“Sure let’s go with that.” Shane found himself leaning against the siding again despite himself. All of this was just… unexpected in a way that almost had Shane curious.
“Do you wanna come inside?” Sam asked.
“Nothing sounds worse than that actually.”
“Rude.”
“I couldn't get my knee to bend in that window if I tried! You’re the rude one asking an old man to sneak into your house.”
“You’re like thirty.”
“Exactly.”
Sam rolled his eyes and hefted the window open.
“I’m going home,” Shane announced and turned to walk away.
Sam grunted as he hunkered through the window. “I’ll— walk you,” he responded readily.
Shane bit back a smile as he heard the kid chase after him.
“I don’t need to be walked,” he said when Sam joined him on the path.
“I thought you were an old man. What if you come across a dangerous intersection?”
Shane looked around the dark dirt road into the woods, not a stoplight for miles. “You’re so right.”
Sam snickered and folded his hands under his arms to warm them. “So how much did you hear, really?”
“Not much.” Shane took a few more quiet steps and then added with a sly grin, “I’m kinda surprised though, I thought you’d be ass.”
“Wow, that was almost a compliment. Must’ve been hard for you,” Sam teased.
“Buh, shut up,” he grumbled without any fire.
They walked silently towards the ranch. Shane had just started thinking that silence with Sam wasn’t that bad, when he inevitably shattered it again.
“It’s one of the first songs I learned. I like it a lot.”
“So you didn’t write it?”
“Iris?! No, Yoba, no. I wish,” he laughed. “Do you live under a rock? It’s such a big song. It’s kinda old now but I’d think you’d be all over the classic rock stations and stuff.”
“Hmph,” Shane grumbled in consideration, watching the ground ahead. “Guess I haven’t paid attention to the world much in a while.”
Sam hummed in response, which then turned into actual humming as he presumably got bored. It was the same song again. Shane tried to follow with the words he could remember in his head.
“What’s it mean?” Shane found himself asking quietly.
“Hm? Oh. What part?” Sam cocked his head at him in that doggish way he did and it sort of snapped Shane’s booze-dulled concentration enough to stall.
“Uh. The—” he blinked. “I guess… it’s kinda confusing that the guy’s singing about not wanting the world to see him but also wants them to know who he is.”
“But he doesn’t want the world to know who he is.”
Shane shot him a confused glare, so Sam started to sing.
“I don't want the world to see me 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am. You. Not the world.”
Shane felt a violent mix of emotion threaten to choke him. From the intimacy of Sam singing to him softly. From the meaning of the words. From some stupid part of his brain trying to convince him that Sam was saying it about him.
Sam who always seemed to be smiling, except apparently when he was alone.
What came out of Shane’s mouth was a short, “Huh.”
“That make more sense?”
They were nearing the ranch, but their pace had slowed significantly.
“Music can be pretty deep I guess,” Shane answered lamely.
“Yeah, no shit.” Sam laughed. His laugh had a rasp to it similar to when he sang, a thought followed by the realization that somewhere along the way, Shane had stopped finding his laugh annoying.
“So do you like it because you don’t want everyone to know your name’s Samson?” Shane mocked.
“Ay!” Sam elbowed him. “That’s confidential information. But… yeah sure let’s go with that,” he echoed Shane’s earlier dismissal.
Shane stopped as they arrived at the ranch’s outer fence. He stared out at the dark pasture as the silence closed in around them.
Sam was actually quiet for longer than usual, which left Shane saying maybe more than he should.
“Did you know Shane means ‘gift from Yoba’?” He scoffed and shook his head. “What a joke.”
“Oh yeah that’s funny, since you’re an asshole and everything.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that Shane couldn’t help but crack up; shoulders shaking, eyes nearly watering as he laughed till his voice went high-pitched. “Nothing—haha– nothing gets by you, Sherlock.”
“Thanks, I try,” he bantered back, laughing along with him until Shane settled down.
When he did, he was struck by the look on Sam’s face. A gentle smile and eyes sparkling from laughter.
This was weirdly nice. Part of him didn’t want it to be over.
“And thanks for letting me walk you,” Sam continued. “I um. I needed this, it was nice.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft.
Shane grunted, because he’d never been good at sappy shit. “Guess you’ll be walking home now.”
“Guess so,” Sam agreed, but didn’t move.
A terrible idea occurred to Shane that he was just buzzed enough to spit out. “Being the adult here, I should probably make sure you get home safe.”
He didn’t know why he’d expected Sam to argue, but instead the blond snorted and patted Shane’s forearm, immediately dragging him along with an “Alright then, come on grandpa.”
Sam’s hand moved down to Shane’s and held it as he started walking. It felt natural, like it wasn’t something Shane should question. Like he didn’t want to question it.
He squashed any thoughts of what it might mean as he felt his face warm up, and let Sam guide him back up the road they’d just come from as he started babbling about music.