Chapter Text
It's been extra weird lately. Sure, I got max back. well, a max back. But it feels, wrong. Different.
It's morning. The mornings are different there's a clear...tension, Usually. So are the afternoons, the evenings, and we still have fun, but it's different, like we both know we aren't Eachothers.
Sure, we're Sam and max but his Sam is gone, and so is my max. We act as normal as we can, but there's that gap between us...we can't quite get as close as we were before.
Getting to close feels like cheating. My max didn't get the celebration he deserved. And it feels...wrong moving on so fast. But also having this new max around is making it... a little easier.
But part of me wants to wait, sure he's max, he looks, talks, moves, acts just like him, but he's different. We both know we're different. And it makes me want to wait till I can join my own max, his own Sam. I wonder if they found each other in hell. Maybe they have the same problem.
I try to hold back with max, he's not MY max, he's not my partner, well he is. But not the same one, it feels weird, like I'm in a never ending delusion of being with max even though I watched him die. Am I wrong or bad for feeling this way? Does this new max feel the same?
It's morning again. Hes putting on his tie while max wakes up.
"Morning max." He glances at him in the mirror.
"Hiya Sam." He sits up.
It's quiet. Uncomfortably so. Max watches Sam adjust his tie. He doesn't yet have his coat on, just his button up and his shoulder holster. Sam can feels Max's eyes, he doesn't know really what to say, the eyes don't feel normal but...like a ghost of something he used to understand. That they both understood. Sam clears his throat.
"We should probably get going to the office soon." He grabs his coat, fixing his sleeves.
"Oh yeah, right." He gets up out of the bed rubbing his eyes.
The day is normal, not too different. Jokes, but the look in Max's eyes aren't... The same. Like there's something missing, something simple but unfulfilled. They still have a love for each other, but it feels different, sadder.
It's their normal shenanigans but every pause has a hidden glance, a lost word, a false security, it's like looking into the eyes of the person you love while simultaneously not knowing where, or who they are. Every look says something else but if they say them out loud they move the boat further in the opposite direction, while not fully knowing where the shore is. To everyone else things are the same, but to them things are the same, when they shouldn't be.
Every joke is like a whisper of the other self, every touch feels like a betrayal but without them they feel like they're getting further apart. Maybe it's a cope, but without them they'd have to admit their other is really gone. So they joke, they laugh, push eachother around, but if they go over that line of something deeper...
They have just gotten back from a case, it's dark out, chilly. Usually after a night like this they'd.... but they can't. It's all a "what if?", A barrier, a hard push would leave them to explore what real differences they have from their lost counter part, the other things are scripted, you know how to act when you joke, fight, work, but getting deeper means you can't plan what you'd do, you can't plan what the other might do. What's different, what's the same. But not pushing at all will keep you in the same place. The same uncomfortable silence, the same sorrowful looks, the same stiff nights of wondering what you could've done differently.
The idea of crossing that line feels like you're standing on a ledge and you don't know whats waiting for you on the ground, but the feeling of staying still feels like you're sinking in quick sand. That night they explore, they whisper, soft kisses running down necks like it's a Marathon, a quiet plea of security while you explore a place so familiar.
"Uhm, is that okay?" Sam mumbles.
"You were always an overthinker, Sam. Right?" He looks up, meeting Sam's eyes, the question is like a weight, was he? Is he? What's different?
Sam chuckles. "Uh, yeah, little buddy." The weight slips away, maybe they aren't different. Maybe this is the same man he's always known. Maybe even the differences wouldn't be so bad. Yet Everytime he looks into his eyes he feels the same loss he remembers from that night. There is no Sam without max, but what's it worth if any Sam is with any max, his max isn't here. No matter how similar they are, they aren't the same in his eyes. But he's willing to learn a new max if it means they can be Sam and max again.
His hands test the grounds, running through layers of soft white fur, he can feel Max's hands on his shoulders, like he's steadying himself, max, well, the other max would do that too. Max was always weakest when it came to wandering hands.
Sam wants to let go and let things play out, but he doesn't know how to start...so he just goes for it.
"Sam!" He yelps before bursting out in a fit of laughter.
Sam keeps licking at Max's face his hands meeting his sides.
As the laughter died down, they fall into a comfortable silence, it feels like it's been forever.