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A week before Danny had come back (he was back, he was alive), Sam had gotten a letter.

Well, sort of. It had been in 202. Tacked to a map. The map of Earth. Right where her name was. She'd gone in to find something to eat and then had almost dropped the canned tomatoes, because there had been a worn piece of paper, and it had had her name on it.

And now he was back. And he was exhausted and sad and so broken that she could barely stand it, because that wasn't the Danny she knew. The Danny she knew could make lame jokes about horrible things like death and still face it and come back all the better. The Danny she knew smiled and ate like a teenage boy and thought like a teenage boy. Now he was different, and so sad.

For the fifty millionth time, she opened the worn and torn piece of paper on the roof, beginning to read, tracing the letters absently.


I don't know how much of this will get to you--some of it might wind up blacked out or something. Heck, I don't know if this will even get to you at all.

Obviously, since I'm not back from that patrol yet, I got captured. The first thing I want you to know is that I'm okay. As much as I can be. The one that caught me isn't as violent as he could be. He's a scientist. I haven't really been hurt. Not much--the worst that's happened is I'm even less fond of needles than Tucker is.

Okay, bad joke.

Anyway, that's the good news. The bad news is that I don't know if I'm ever getting out of here. Obviously I'm going to try, but he found a pretty good way to keep me trapped and he isn't looking to let me go anytime soon.

I don't want to be rescued either. I was stupid. I tried going out alone. I thought maybe I could make up for my mistakes. Sometimes all anybody needs is a second chance. That's what I figured.

I didn't figure on fighting something worse than what's back home. I thought I could go it alone, and now I'm paying for it.

But no one else should have to pay for my mistakes. Not anymore. If anyone's looking for me, tell them to stop. If no one's looking for me, it should stay that way.

I really screwed up, Sam. Not just in getting caught. Before. I tried to help people and when I failed, I gave up. Because I was too afraid to fail again. I gave up because I lost faith in myself, because I was a coward, because I wanted the quick fix, wanted to feel happy and blank and stupid again for little moments rather than doing what was right and trying to fix myself so I could help everyone else.

Heroes are supposed to fight whatever they have to, to protect the innocent. Even if they're fighting their own propensity for teen angst.

I didn't do that. People suffered, people died, including someone I considered a friend, someone who had less power than me and did more to help other people, who held out more hope than I did. She died in that place, and the really stupid part is: I could've saved her.

I could've saved her.

She reminded me a lot of you. If you'd been in there, I know you wouldn't have taken it sitting down. You've never taken anything sitting down, especially when helping me fight and it's something that's always kept me going. You--and Tucker--were what helped me win all those fights, you were what helped me save the day in the end. It wasn't anything in me--it was something in the two of you that kept me going.

That and my family.
The ink was blotchy here, as if water droplets had fallen onto the paper and soaked into the ink.

If you ever get back home, please tell them everything. Tell them I'm sorry I never told them, but that I was scared. Tell them about the Reality Gauntlet and how I erased their memories and how it wasn't because I thought they wouldn't accept me--I knew they would then--but because I didn't want them to worry about me.

Tell them I screwed up, but I remembered everything they taught me, and tried to make it right again. I just wanted them to be proud of me. I wanted to be the kind of person they wanted me to grow up to be.

Tell them, y'know, that I love them and stuff. Jazz, too. Jazz, especially, for keeping my secrets and making me feel like I was special instead of a freak.

(Oh, and tell Jazz she can have most of my stuff, but that you and Tucker get first dibs on my cds).

Tell Tucker he was the best buddy a guy could ask for, and that I totally forgive him for killing my hamster.

And I guess that's it. I don't really have much more to say and I don't know how much I can get away with, or if I can even get this to where you are.

As for you, I sort of know about...stuff. I mean, I'm not completely oblivious. Especially after the thing with Gregor, I started thinking, and when I was in the Farm I dreamt about you, apparently, according to the guys I was in there with. I talked a lot in my sleep.

I don't know what it is we are, Sam. But you're one of my best friends, and I wish, more than anything that we could've had the chance to find out what could've happened.
More blurring.

Of course, maybe I'm just seeing things that aren't there. I don't know.

But I wish I could see you again, just one last time. Then again, I wish I could see a lot of things again one last time.

I hope I can get out of here before he justs gets fed up and kills me. I wish I could've been one of those heroes that can save everyone all at the same time, including themselves and maybe I'll become one of those and you'll see me again, but if not:

I'm sorry I couldn't stay the kind of hero you and Tuck believed I was, the kind of hero you believed in.

The kind
I believed in.

That's all I have to say, I guess.


It hurt.

It hurt and she needed to talk to him and she knew it.

She walked slowly into their room with the paper tucked carefully away. "Danny?"

Date: 2006-08-21 02:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"If there is any meat, you should eat it. I know you don't like it, but you're going to need protein and you have to take whatever you can get here," Danny said, chewing away, gaze still out the window.

Date: 2006-08-21 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That made the corner of Danny's mouth tweak up just a little.

"You haven't changed a bit."

Date: 2006-08-21 03:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Unfortunately, right after that, he went quiet again, concentrating on his food.

Date: 2006-08-21 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Whoa whoa whoa, Sam," he said, putting his plate down and standing up to stop her, a hand on her arm near the crook of her elbow, hesistant, as if he wasn't sure he should touch her.

He wasn't used to her losing her cool like this.

"It's okay, Sam. You're right, I didn't want anybody to risk it, not when it was my fault for getting caught, just...just calm down. None of it was your fault--you don't have anything to say sorry for."

Date: 2006-08-21 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Danny sat down next to her.

"Sam, if you had tried, you'd be dead."

That was the matter-of-fact truth of it.

Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand in his own.

Date: 2006-08-21 04:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He squeezed back, going just a little pink.

"Yeah. Me, too. You have no idea."

Date: 2006-08-21 04:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Sam, I don't think I can deal with that right now..." Danny admitted. "I can't even deal with what happened..."

His thumb made little circles against her hand.

"Maybe when I'm less...when I have my head together I'll be ready to figure it out..."

Date: 2006-08-21 04:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"This place...tends to change people."

For good, in her case.

His case was different.

Date: 2006-08-21 05:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
His body was a little stiff, but he let her hug him, and then hugged her back just little bit.

Then he held her tighter, and tighter, and buried his face in her neck.

Date: 2006-08-21 05:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It was, for now.

He wasn't going to let anyone hurt her.

Date: 2006-08-24 01:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Bova wasn't a hugger.

Eventually Danny let go, awkwardly, and started fiddling his hands together, his face slightly pink.

"So..." Conversation. That would be good. If he could think of something to ask her. 'How's life in in a post-apocalyptic nightmare treating you?' didn't seem like the best conversation starter.


bringnewjokes: (Default)
Samantha "Sam" Manson

October 2006

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