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Its been a while. Around three months since the Visitor's arrival, since the fifteen days that wound up changing Dan's life forever.
Life's been… complicated, since the world turned upside down. But, despite losing his mother, his Twitch channel getting banned, and having to move out due to the apartment being condemned because of the giant rat infestation, he's managed. It's… nice to have so many new friends, though. They've been helping each other out, especially Sam. Sam's honestly the biggest help in keeping his mind off his worries.
Sam moved into a two bedroom apartment a few blocks down, mainly because he wanted Joel and Ratthew to have some space of their own despite it needing a bit of extra cash. Dan moved into a small studio nearby, something while he finds something else to do besides streaming. He thought it was a pretty good arrangement, in all honesty.
Sam still insisted on coming over to Dan's on the weekends, just to hang out and play some games. He didn't really know why, but he just assumed that Sam needed some time to relax between being a new parent and being the exalted four's special little boy (Sam told him not to call him that, but if he's absolutely going to).
But this week was different.
Dan spent the morning waiting for Sam. Usually he was here around Nine or Ten or so, but he wasn't there today. Usually, he'd call if he was busy, right..? Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen… The morning turned into the afternoon, and still nothing. Every time he called, no response.
Well, if Sam's not gonna come, he's bringing the games to him! And… anyways, if they're gonna be friends, he's gotta make sure the dudes not dead in a ditch somewhere, right? That was the soundest logic he could think up, so he grabbed some games, including one Sam left last week, and a few snacks, and tossed them in his backpack.
Their apartments were a couple blocks apart, but nothing too bad. The streets were still being fixed, potholes and cracked sidewalk meaning he had to swerve every few minutes. Cursed who had managed to retain their humanity walked by him, working and hanging out as if nothing had happened. A many-tentacled man gave him a tip of his hat, and Dan bowed his head slightly in return.
He made his way easily to Sam's apartment, knocking on the door. "Hey, dude! You're not dead, right?" He called out. He could hear small footsteps running towards the door, and a high pitched, raspy voice coming from the other side. "Who's, hhh- there?" Joel's voice came from the other side. That was weird. Sam usually said that the kids should let him answer the door.
"Hey, Joel-man! Buddy! It's Dan! Is Sam home?" He asked. Joel was quiet for a moment. He heard him running off, then scrambling back to the door. "It's Dan, right?" He asked someone. "Is Dan." A smaller voice replied. The rat baby? What?
The door opened, finally, and yep, it was Joel. He held a small white cane in one hand, holding onto Ratthew's legs with the other, the latter of which was sitting on Joel's shoulder. The little guy grew really quickly, but it seemed like the growth slowed down, considering it's about the size of a four year old now. "Mr. Sam's home, but he's, hhh- sleeping." Ratthew nodded quickly. "He ssed… "wake me only if yew need ssomethin.""
"Well, I do need something. I gotta return a few games he left at my house." A small lie, but he probably wouldn't be let in if he just said he wanted to check and make sure Sam was alive. Joel considered it for a moment, before nodding and moving to the side to allow him in.
Dan took in the place as he took off his shoes. The place was.. cozy, honestly. A simple apartment, different than the old one but (poke) still okay. It was pretty obvious that there were (poke poke) kids living here now. Drawings, sugary cereal, cartoons on the TV, (poke) it seemed like Sam had adapted pretty well to being a- (BONK!)
"Hey, what gives?!" Dan's head swiveled towards the toothed child "staring" up at him, Joel's cane continuing to roll over his head. "I'm- hhh- making sure you're still bald." He said plainly. "You really need to do that by hitting me over the head?" Dan huffed. "Well, I can't, hhh- touch your head to check. You're too tall." He said matter-of-factly, continuing to poke at Dan's skull. Joel was trying so hard to look innocent, but Dan could hear the breathy giggles coming from the little brat.
"Alright, alright. I'm still bald. Ya don't need to keep trying to crack that thing over the head to figure it out." He huffed. "Ballld!" Ratthew exclaimed, laughing. "Bald! Bald! Bald!" The two exclaimed, in the same tone as those fish from Spongebob. Dean huffed, but decided to just knock on the door to Sam's bedroom despite the laughs and jeers of "my eyes!" behind him.
"Sam? You up?" He called out. He waited for a moment, listening close for signs of life. "… Dan?" A groggy voice called back. Oh thank god. "Heeyyyy, buddy! It's gaming day, man, what are you doing here?" Dan tried to keep an upbeat tune, but something about Sam's tired tone put him off.
A beat, then a heavy sigh. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot." His voice was small, raw. Different from the Sam he usually saw. The thought made his heart rate spike, but no, he's smarter than that. Its normal, he isn't cursed, he's just tired. It's all over now. "No sweat, pal. Can I come in? I. uh… brought some games you forgot at my place."
Slowly, the door creaked open. Tired, puffy eyes stared up at him, emerging from a pitch black room. "Uh… hey." Dan said quietly, staring at Sam's blanket cloaked body. "Is… this a bad time?" He asked. Sam looked up, looked down, then shook his head. "No." He muttered, voice cracking. Somehow, Dan understood why he was staying home. He reached into his bag, holding out some cheez-stix as an offering. "I brought food." Sam nodded, letting Dan walk in.
As soon as he walked in, Sam closed the door behind him. Of course, despite the afternoon sun, it was completely dark, blackout curtains effectively banishing any ray that dared try to find its way into the room. He could barely see anything aside from what was reflected from the alarm clock, but it looked… messy. Didn't smell the greatest, either. Sweetish, yet biting.
Sam gingerly stumbled around unseen objects, finally flopping back onto his bed. "Careful. I left some… stuff on the floor." He warned. "Well, as long as it isn't like, a knife or legos something." Dan joked, chuckling softly. His voice petered off as he looked over at Sam, seeing how he avoided his gaze.
"Dude, if you forgot to pick up some stuff, I don't care." He laughed nervously. "But I can't see shit and I'm wearing socks." He huffed. "Language. Kids can hear us." Sam muttered. Dan felt around with his foot, trying not to step on anything overly painful… but his foot hit something small and metal. And another metal thing. Prongs, curves.. glass, finally something normal-ish for a bedroom. Stepping around it felt like trying to make his way around those landmine things from Mr. Henderson's apartment. Or… just trying to navigate a normal minefield. That's probably more apt, considering these things aren't alive and crawling around. "Okay, I genuinely can't believe you're living like this. You at least need to get SOME light in here-"
Before Dan could reach for the curtain wand, he heard rapid footsteps, then felt a hand gripping his wrist like a vice. Sam's eyes were intense, glazed over but staring hard into Dan's. Though it wasn't rage, like Dan thought for a moment before getting a better look. He looked absolutely panicked. Dan immediately retreated his hand, though Sam's fingernails kept digging into his skin. "DON'T." He commanded, voice heavy. "A-alright, man." Dan tried to say, but Sam kept going. "Don't- don't touch the window- I don't want to look outside- I can't handle it, I can't handle anything right now-" his voice trembled, grip shaking as he rambled. What..? "Sam, there's nothing out there. It's over." Dean tries to assure. "I KNOW." Sam growls between breaths. "I know, I know there's nothing out there, but it feels like there is and if I look out there I'll freak the fu- I'll freak out!" He breathes, muttering curses under his breath as he shakes his head.
"Alright, alright, I'm not gonna open the curtains!" He says, holding his empty hand as if to show he's telling the truth. Christ, the dudes in an awful state. How? He was fine when he saw him a few days ago, the hell is making him act like this now? Wait- his arm! "Can you let go now?!" Dan said quickly, yanking his arm best he could. Sam seemed to finally realize how hard he was holding onto the other, hand releasing it's grasp. "Sorry." He murmured, looking sheepish.
Dan assessed the damage, before sighing when he made sure Sam hadn't somehow drawn blood. "Okay, you wanna turn on the light instead?" Unnatural light during the day felt wrong for some reason, but whatever, he's survived much worse. But Sam shook his head. "Ugh, no overheads… I have the worlds worst headache today.." He groans. "Lemme just… turn on the lamp near my bed, that should help." He started making his way back over, before pausing. "Uh… promise you won't freak out."
Shit. That always precedes something bad. But Dan smiled anyways. "Be honest, Sam. There's probably nothing you could show me that would be worse than anything else we've seen, right?" Sam hesitated, before nodding, and turning on the lamp.
What the fuck?
From what he could see, the floor was covered in just… stuff. Cutlery, mainly. Forks, knives, plates, a few spoons here and there. All clean, albeit some were a bit dusty. They didn't even seem like they came from a set, or even multiple sets, all of them had different shapes and sizes and designs. The rest, random bits and bobs and junk, some Dan remembers seeing in some of the apartments, others he's never even seen. Some bottles of alcohol, some chemicals off to the side, some of his old weapons… the floor is almost completely covered. "The fuck…?"
"It's bad, isn't it." Sam's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "No! No, no, it's fine, don't worry, man." Dan insisted, trying not to make Sam feel any worse than he obviously does. "Let me just…" He slowly made his way across the room, scooting the cutlery out of the way to avoid stepping on anything sharp or breaking something expensive. Finally, he gets to Sam's… admittedly lumpy mattress, sitting down next to the guy who was still bundled up in his blanket. He seems like he still has all the normal amount of human limbs, minus one. That's good at least.
They were silent for a moment. "So… uh… you… doing okay?" Dan asks, finally. "I feel like absolute shit." Sam said plainly. "Yeeahh… no offense, you do kinda look like shit, too." Dan noted, and Sam let out a bitter laugh. "I knew it. I probably wouldn't have even left my room if it wasn't for the kids, haha…" He admitted. "Again, I'm so sorry for missing our gaming session. I completely forgot." Dan shook his head. "All chill, man, don't sweat it." He reassured.
"So… why don-" He started to ask. "You want to ask about the forks, right?" Sam quickly interrupted. Not at all what he was going to ask, but Sam spoke with the sort of excited desperation that meant he was pretty sure this was something the man was desperate to talk about but wanted someone else to bring up. "Yyyeah. Uh… whats with... all of this? I feel like there's a better way to keep your forks and sh- stuff accessible."
"They're not mine." Sam murmured.
"Huh?"
"They're not mine." He repeated, a bit louder. Dan didn't know how to respond to that. "What? They're like… on loan, or…" He asks, scratching his head. Sam kept his eyes down, curling a bit in on himself. "I took them." He confesses. "I took them, and I don't know why." Dan blinked.
"I don't know why." He says, holding out his shaking hand. "Something in my brain just- keeps telling me to take them. I mean, the forks and knives and plates made good weapons back in the apartment, but I just- keep taking them now! I don't even want this! Like I already have enough! But if I don't, then I get all paranoid because I feel like I'm going to need it some day and I don't know when! Same with all the other- other bullshit I have." He whispered that last part, making sure only Dan heard it. "I don't need any of it, but I keep taking it."
Dan blinked, unsure and cautious. "Well… at least it's.. nice stuff? Not like… trash or rotten food, or anything." How the hell was he even orienting around this place so easily? I mean, he was already pretty agile from constantly dodging acid-spitting monsters when they met, but Jesus. "I guess." Sam huffed. "It's no excuse for being a thief. I didn't have a good excuse when I actually needed it either, but now- now I'm just being so.. so selfish. There's no reason for me to do any of it, and yet… I do."
Sam picked up one of the forks that lay by his bed, staring at it. "This one was from your house, from, uh… when I came by last week. I saw it on the table, and-" He forcefully pushed the fork into Dan's hand, still clean, thank god. "I was planning to give it back to you and- just- just take it. I'm sorry." He cradled his head for a moment, before downing a couple Excedrin dry somehow. Dan examined the fork. Nothing all that special about it. Just a plain fork he didn't even know Sam stole in the first place.
"Take it before I take it back." Sam pleaded, fear leaking back into his voice. Dan complied quickly, tossing the loose fork into his bag. "It's fine if you're mad, Dan. I'm.. mad at myself too." Sam said quietly, fidgeting with the loose string of his blanket. Dan shook his head quickly. "It's just a fork, dude, I'm not mad at all." He assured. "You haven't like.. taken anything else from my house, though, right? I… kinda need my stuff." Sam's eyes widened, quickly scanning the room as if he was unsure, but he finally settled and nodded. "That's the only thing… I think. My memory's been pretty fuzzy lately, though. Uh- if there's anything you see… you know, you can.. take it." He sounded very hesitant, as if he was fighting against himself to say the words.
Fuck, what was Dan supposed to say here? His friend revealed a habit like.. this to him out of nowhere, and he was talking like he was confessing some sort of sin to a priest. Well, Dan's like 90% sure stealing is a sin, but he's far from godly. What would make Sam feel better? "Have- have you.. told anyone else about this?" He asked tentatively. Sam sighed. "No. You're the first person I managed to say this out loud to. I- I was going to try talking to Jeanne about it, but then I remembered how much of this stuff was probably taken from her, so I panicked and didn't wind up saying anything." Dan nodded along. So he's the first. Great. "Uh.. I'm sure she'd be fine hearing you out if you returned everything to her! She's like… really forgiving, she'd probably be happier if you brought it back to her yourself instead of her finding your stash." He suggested.
"I know, I know." Sam sniffed. "I just.. every time I try to bring it back to her, I get all.. panicky." He lamented. "I feel.. I think I feel like I need as much stuff as I can get just in case. Even if I know the visit is over, it just… feels like it could happen again at any moment, you know?" He sighed. "I know the feeling." Dan knew the feeling all too well. He kept his windows closed every day, just in case the Visitor decided to do a double-back while he was sleeping. He'd visit his mothers grave among the other casualties, just to remind himself to be vigilant. And, yeah, he kept a baseball bat around just in case. "I think everyone else is feeling that way, too. Well- maybe besides the stealing part, but… yeah."
"But there's no reason for me to be feeling like this!" He exclaimed, before wincing and rubbing his temple. "I mean.. I didn't lose anyone, in all honesty, I'M the reason people lost loved ones, and- and family members, I-" He took a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. "All those- the cursed, they used to be people and I- I killed them. I killed them and I barely even thought about it." The hand covering his face only barely hides the haunted look in his eyes. Dan did NOT expect the topic of conversation to switch to that, and he suddenly feels like the bed is more uncomfortable than ever as he shifts in place.
Fuck, fuck, what to do… Sam looks like he's on the brink of tears again, but it seems like he's run his body dry. "I mean, it's true, but.. they attacked us, most of the time! It was between them and us! If you think about it.. you know, wouldn't you rather let them die than have them kill some other idiot who was passing by?" Dan tried to say. Sam glared at him, tears pricking his eyes. Oops, wrong thing to say. "I killed a family, Dan." Sam choked out. "Joel- Joel's parents, they- they didn't have to die like that. Maybe I could have found a different way, but I didn't even try. I- I ransacked their home, stole their weapons, killed Joel's parents, and now…" He breathed, and it sounded like he was struggling to keep up the motivation to do so. "He's living in my house, and I've already started to ruin things for him."
"I mean… Their apartment DID turn into a giant mouth, so… I feel like ol' yellering them may have been for the best." Dan said, attempting to comfort, but that just made Sam start hyperventilating. "I ruined his life. I-I ruined your life, too- I don't know how you even forgave me." How would he have… oh. Right. "My life was ruined even before my mom looked outside. You… didn't really do much, honestly." He laughed sadly. "But, ah… I don't know about you, but Joel seems pretty happy living with you, now."
Sam considered it for a moment, staring at his room. "I'm already making things worse for him. I know this is where it starts." Dan blinked. "Where what starts?" Sam was quiet for a moment, seeming like he was trying to steel himself to say something. "It's… fine if I talk about my mom, right?" He looked over at Dan, seeming a bit antsy. God, even in a state like this, he's still worried about how Dan feels… Dan nodded. The other man just… seemed like he needed someone to talk to.
"My mom… she always kept a lot of stuff around the house. I.. you could probably call her a hoarder, but there was always.. she was always buying and taking stuff she didn't need, stashing it wherever she could in the house. And if she couldn't find a good cabinet, she'd stash it on the floor or the couch or.. wherever." Sam explained, taking deep breaths in between. "I never understood why she did it, she didn't need any of it, but any time I would try to throw it away, she'd yell at me that she needed it. And if I asked why, she'd just say that you never know when you need something."
"And I- I never understood why she was so… obsessed with it, but- but I get it now! I get it and it scares me!" He hiccuped. "It's all just going to get worse, and worse, and then Joel's going to have to suffer even more because I don't know how to stop myself from taking shit! Because I'm a murderous, selfish goddamn thief who only does shit for my own gain! Because I have this weird, twisted survivors guilt even though I'm the reason some people didn't survive! Because people keep trying to call me a hero, even if it's not true! And it never was!" The angry tears that were threatening to drop from his eyes finally started to shed, but he did his best to suppress the sobs welling in his throat. "I'm a monster, Dan. I don't know how you can stand to be around me."
"Sam." Dan tried to keep himself as steady as possible, but his voice still shook from the intensity of Sam's obvious breakdown. Sam looked up at him, tears still running down but breath steadier. Tentatively, Dan placed a hand on the other's shoulder. As… Sam had done for him, once. "Don't be so hard on yourself, man." He said quietly. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dan held a finger to his lips. "You're gonna go hard on yourself again. Don't." Sam nodded along, closing his mouth again. "It's.. It's okay to forgive yourself, you know." Dan tried, doing his best to pantomime Sam's own comforting tone all those months ago. "You're not a monster, okay? You're just a guy, and a pretty damn good one at that."
Sam stared at him for a long time, searching his eyes. As if he was trying hard to dig deep into Dan's soul, to see if any of his words were lies, any at all. Dan opened his arms ever so slightly, silently putting an offer on the table. And Sam took it gladly. Sam's arm wrapped around the others torso, squeezing tight and burying his face in the others shirt as he finally let sobs wrack through his body. He muttered apologies between sobs, and Dan, admittedly a bit awkwardly, just placed his own arms around the other's shoulder, patting his back.
They stayed like this for a long while. Dan would sometimes mutter "Its okay" and "I'm here" as he'd heard others do, but he just let Sam cry. But finally, the heavy breathing subsided, and Sam lifted his face off the tear-stained shirt. He sighed. "I-I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you, I just… I didn't feel like I had anyone else to talk to about… any of this." Dan shook his head. "No sweat, pal. I wanted to see how you were doing, so I came to see how you were doing. Simple as." He smiled, but hesitated. "I'm.. not really sure I'm the best person for you to talk about this with, though?"
Sam frowned hard, looking away. "I'm sorry, I know it's heavy-" He started. "That's not why." Dan interrupted. "It's just that… I think this kind of stuff is more like something a professional can help you work through, yaknow?" He admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I think there's a medical word for like, stealing stuff because you don't need to? I don't know, but… I'm not a psychologist or whatever." He shrugged. "But I do know that if you want to change something, you can! You just need a lot of help, I think. Even if it's not from a shrink, could just be talking about this with some other friends." Sam nodded along, biting his lip. For a minute, he looked like he wanted to argue, but the tension drained out of his shoulders instead. "Yeah… yeah, maybe you’re right." He relented, voice still rough. "I just… you're the only one I've brought myself to tell, and… I don't know how the others would react."
Dan gave a small, understanding nod. "They'll just be happy you admitted it, probably. Like I was. And they'll be happy if you give them their stuff back." He shrugged, before putting on a more serious face. "You're not a monster, okay? Don't say stuff like that about yourself. You're one of the best people I know, and I mean it. We all did bad things because we had to. And sometimes you carry over bad habits from sucky situations. It happens. Doesn't mean we can't keep living, right? I mean, you're not dogging on Leigh for almost eating you, quit dogging on yourself for taking down some dudes."
"I know, I know…" Sam muttered. "I… usually I feel a lot better than this, you know." He said quickly. "I'm… able to function most of the time, but I've been having some awful nightmare, and then my stealing gets out of hand, and… you know…" He trailed off. "I'm- I'm usually better than this. You don't need to worry, okay?" He insisted. "I am gonna worry, man!" Dan said quickly, clasping the other's hand. "Because you're my pal! And pals check in on each other. And if you have a big problem like this, I'll be right here to give you an extra hand if ya need it, okay? And the only reason you could believe otherwise is because you forgot something important." He says with all the seriousness he could muster. "You forgot… the Crystal of Friendship!"
For the first time, Sam finally let out a real laugh. "From Massacre Princess Catholicon?! Come on, man, be serious!" He snorted, giving Dan a light jab. "I am being serious, dude! The whole thing's a metaphor for how powerful human connection is! And, like, we're connected through some really awful stuff that happens, but that just makes us stronger, you know?" He explained. Sam blinked, then smiled even wider. "Yeah. I guess you're right." He sighed.
"You know, in the meanwhile…" Dan finally said, rummaging through his bag. "If ya don't want to tell else about this yet, we can still do our game day." He pulled out the games he'd meant to return, along with the Cheez-Stix. "You think the kids have had enough TV?" Sam shook his head. "Nah, I promised them they could watch whatever they wanted on weekends. Oh! But I have a vintage handheld we can use, though. Lemme just…" He reached under the mattress, searching for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Dan's eyes lit up. "Oh, sweet! A Gamekid color! I had one of these when I was a kid!" He smiled, looking over the nostalgic, but sadly now archaic, piece of technology. It even already had a game in it!
Then he had a thought.
"Wait, Sam, where did you get this?"
"…"
"Sam, what else is under there?"
"… … …"
"SAM-"