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andrea

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He hadn't meant to fall asleep. One thing Sam has been learning quickly, though, is that with a baby around, he needs to take whatever sleep he can while he can get it. It hasn't been as bad lately as it was during those first few months, but Jordan still keeps him awake as often as not, and while he's gotten somewhat used to running on less sleep than he was used to before, that doesn't make him any less exhausted. Occasionally, dozing off without intending to is just impossible to avoid. And sometimes, that just happens to be when he's sitting on the couch holding his daughter.

If Andrea weren't around, it would probably be more of a cause for concern. As it is, he knows can count on her to take Jordan if that becomes necessary, which is about as much considering it as he gets to do. When he wakes up, he isn't sure just how long it's been, if it's been minutes or hours, just that Jordan has started to cry, shifting in his arms and pulling him from his sleep. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he says, rocking her gently, voice soft, if rough. "It's —"

His sentence stops there, because suddenly, he isn't sure if it really is alright after all. They aren't on the couch in his and Andrea's hut anymore; they're moving, as the view outside the window serves as proof of, train tracks rattling underneath them. No wonder she's started fussing, he thinks. She's never been on a train before. He doesn't know why they are, though, or how they could have gotten here. Nothing he sees looks familiar, and he'd wonder if this is one of those weird island transformation things, except that a few of the people on the train have started looking at him like he must have just appeared out of nowhere, and it still doesn't make sense that he would have gone from being in his hut to being here. That isn't how this usually works.

It's more nerve-wracking than he'd care to admit, or than he's able to focus on. Before he lets himself freak out about it, he has to figure out what any of this is in the first place, and has to try to get Jordan calmed down. It isn't long before the train pulls into a station, at least, and that seems like a good place to start. Jordan's quieted some by the time he's stepped off the train, too, which is a relief. He doesn't want to have to ask someone for an explanation with a wailing infant in his arms. That relief gets quickly put to rest, though, by how cold it is, which he's more than unprepared for. "Oh, Jesus," he says, drawing in a sharp breath. He's been through a couple of winters on the island, but that's about it as far as his exposure to cold weather goes, and the t-shirt he'd been wearing around the hut really isn't going to cut it for this. Answers are still a top priority, but he'll have to do something about that, for himself and Jordan both. Nodding once to himself, he ducks his head to press a kiss to his daughter's hair, then starts forward. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo," he murmurs. "We're gonna figure this out."

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Sam isn't sure how there's any of course about it, though as soon as he's thought that, he feels guilty for it. She's still Andrea. Thinking about it like that just seems too complicated, too ultimately painful. Cutting ties would be a hell of a lot easier if there were nothing here at all, even if she were just someone else entirely who closely resembled Andrea, the way he knows things happened on the island sometime. Instead, she's still the woman he fell in love with; she just doesn't remember it. For all the people he's lost in any number of different ways, he doesn't think there's been anything quite as cruel as this.

"That would be great," he says with a small, halfhearted smile and a nod. Much as he'd like to fend for himself, she is the one who knows her way around here, and he can't turn down the help out of pure stubbornness when he has Jordan to look out for, too. "So, a gun club, huh?" He'd be lying if he said he was surprised, but he can't bring himself to say so. It's overly familiar, territory he doesn't know how to veer into yet.

"It's not close, it's probably better for her if we take a cab," she says, looking down at Jordan briefly. It's a strange, complicated position to be in, because she would have no problem making easy suggestions like this to another friend with a baby, but because of what she knows she feels strange. Like maybe she shouldn't presume to say anything to him about his daughter; or is she their daughter? She's not sure, she doesn't know how to think of this situation and she knows it's going to take a lot of time on both their parts to get a better grasp on what's happened.

At his comment about the gun club, she smiles a little and nods, leading him back toward the door. "Yeah, I'm sure that doesn't come as much of a surprise." The first time they'd met, she'd been shooting. She'd always intended on teaching him, too, taking him out into the jungle with the crossbow Zhuge had made her. She wonders if she ever did.

"I upgraded to a more modern crossbow when I got here," she says, wondering if he remembers the weapon she used on the island. "But it's not as good as the one Zhuge made."

Edited 2014-03-25 18:37 (UTC)

"That was a good one," Sam says, as close as he'll get to wistful, though it's hardly as if he's an expert on weaponry. She taught him well how to use one, but he doubts he would have known one from another. She would, though, of course, that sort of thing as unsurprising as the fact that she's working at a gun club. He remembers how excited she'd been to find tools to make her own ammunition, how handy she's been with any sort of weapon any time he's seen her use one. It ought to be a good fit for her. "But yeah, definitely not surprising."

However little she might remember of the two of them, at least she knows that he'd know that. Then again, that's not really saying all that much. "A cab would be good. She's not used to weather this cold, either. And you said there'd be some money in there, right?"

"Yeah, but it's just a bit to start on," she says, raising her hand to wave down a cab. "There's a bank card, too, and you'll get some money put in the account every month. It's enough for one person to live on if you're careful, but it's nothing spectacular." And as she well knows, with a child to look after, too, there needs to be more of an income. Clementine gets her money as well, but Andrea refuses to use that for basic needs.

A cab pulls up to the curb and Andrea opens the door for Sam to get in in front of her. She realizes she could just give the address to the driver and send Sam and Jordan on their way, but when she considers it, she finds she can't actually go through with it. She feels responsible now, she can't leave him to find his way through Darrow alone.

"I don't know how it'll work for Jordan, but you should have an ID card in there. Her money will probably be paid into your account."

It's weird thing to imagine. Not in any kind of noteworthy way at all when compared to the rest of this, but still, the idea of having some kind of monthly stipend and still having to be careful is one that Sam has trouble wrapping his head around. Before the island, where money didn't come into play at all, it was never anything he had to worry about. His dad had left enough behind to ensure that money wouldn't have been a concern for him, that the two years he did at Caltech would be covered, his rent and food and gas for his motorcycle paid for without him having to get a job or anything like that. It's just one more thing that's going to be different here. For all that it might be more of a lifestyle adjustment, though, it pales in comparison to the rest of this.

"Should be enough to cover the cab, then, at least," he says once he's gotten inside, careful not to jostle Jordan too much as he fastens his seatbelt. On his own, he wouldn't have even thought to. Having a kid, though, it changes everything, just like his dad told him when he first gave him the news of Andrea being pregnant. It stings, thinking about how far away that feels now; he presses on so he won't have to dwell on it. "And to let me get some things for her."

"I'll get the cab," she says, not because she thinks he needs the help, but because she's probably going to take it home once she's done helping him get settled. Or maybe she'll take it to a coffee shop, somewhere she can sit and think for awhile before she has to go home and explain to Spike and Clementine what's happened. The problem with trying to explain this situation, though, is that she's not entirely sure what is happening. All she knows is that Sam is hurt and there's a little girl who's without her mother in a way.

She wonders if Jordan looks at her face and recognizes her. If she's going to reach for her at some point or cry for her. She's not her mother, she understands that, but at the same time she knows Jordan won't understand that. Maybe she doesn't have to. Maybe Andrea can still be there for her somehow. She gives the address to the driver, then settles back against the seat, buckling the seatbelt.

"When I first got here, I met this girl named Clementine," she says and she's not sure why she's telling him right now, only that she feels he deserves to know. "She's from the same world I am, she knows some of the people I was with back there. Glenn mostly." She doesn't know if she's ever mentioned Glenn to Sam, but she thinks the other version of her must have. If they've had a baby, they've talked about names. She might have suggested Glenn for a boy. "She lives with me now."

"Yeah, I met Glenn," Sam says before he can think twice about it, realizing a moment later that she might not remember that, either. It was months before she got pregnant that they woke up back in Alexandria, but he barely knows what he's working with here, when she knows him but not Jordan, whether it's just one night or if it's several, if she was upset showing up here without him just like he is being without her. Even then, though, it's not like they planned for this, not like they did things in the right order or like he ever got around to proposing, though it's something he's thought about. When their whole relationship was backwards, what difference should it have made? "We, uh... We wound up in Alexandria once, for a few days. I don't know if you remember that."

But that's not the point either, really, something he has to remind himself of when he runs the risk of trying to turn everything that happened between them over in his head, still wondering what she knows and what she doesn't. "That's good, though. That you took that girl in." She's great with kids, as he already knows. He also knows how hard that must have been for her, remembers what she told him after finding out she was pregnant and the body she found off the boardwalk one day. Since she won't know that he knows that, though, he decides against mentioning it. There's enough at hand to deal with without him risking upsetting her.

"Alexandria," she echoes, surprised. The cab begins to drive through the streets of Darrow and Andrea sits back, wondering what she's supposed to say, if she should tell Sam what she remembers and what she doesn't. "Jesus, that must have been... well, interesting." Spike has seen bits of her world, too, and she wonders if that's just something that happens, if people just get to take home their loved ones even for a few days, even if only just for a moment.

"We'd gone on a few dates when I got here," she tells him suddenly. It's not fair for him to have to deal with all of this and not be entirely sure where he stands or what she might know. "I remember the party and I remember taking the canoe out. I remember asking you to come to Raylan and Rachel's wedding with me." There's obviously so much more history that's happened since then, so much that she's missed and she feels strangely guilty over it, as though she has any control over it whatsoever. When she looks at him and his daughter, she knows they're both missing someone and it's not the same person she is now, no matter how much she wishes otherwise, if only for the two of them.

"Interesting's one word for it," Sam says wryly. He isn't sure it's the one he'd use, but even that, he thinks, he'd take over this. At least the two of them had been together, his dad there, too. It wouldn't have been a great life, but it would have been bearable. Of course, he'd have never wanted to raise a kid in an environment like that, and he can't imagine willing Jordan into nonexistence, but for all that it had been harrowing, it was nothing he couldn't deal with. This feels like a different story.

Even listening to Andrea talk about the things she does remember, though it's good to have some clarity on that front, is painfully difficult. There's so much else, and while some of it is obvious, it's not like it would make any difference, not a case of just jogging her memory or some shit like that. Any response he could give gets cut off by Jordan, anyway, a whine in her throat and little eyes filling with tears. All he can do is hope that he can keep her calm until they're out of the cab, even if he suspects that's the source of her distress. "Shh, hey, it's okay," he says quietly, attention briefly turned away from Andrea, until he glances up to offer an explanation. "She's never been in a car before."

"It's fine," she says, reaching out without thought, her hand passing softly over the top of Jordan's head. It doesn't occur to her until she's already done it that maybe Sam doesn't want her to and she pulls back, looking at him hesitantly. "I'm sorry."

It's so confusing, even for her, and she knows it has to be so much worse for Sam. She's never had a daughter, but she's always loved kids and it's in her nature to reach out, to try and help. At the same time, she has no idea what might be allowed, what Sam might want of her or what he might desperately want to avoid. She doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

"It won't be much further," she says, settling back in her seat again. "Just a few minutes. The city is a hell of a lot bigger than the island, but it's not as big as it could be. Easy to navigate, too."

Instinctively, Sam wants to tell her not to apologize, but he's too startled, at first, for any words to come. The way she reaches out just seems so natural, and whatever differences there might be in her appearance, it feels so much like before that he can hardly stand it. Even so, it's not like he wants to make a point of keeping Jordan from her. That wouldn't be right, not when he knows what it's like to grow up not having a mother. It's just that he can't expect anything, can't ask her for anything. She has a life here. He might not know much about it, but if she's been here for almost two years, then there's no way he doesn't, and both he and their daughter aren't a part of that.

"It's, uh — it's fine," he finally manages, shaking his head, though he seems too put off to really be that convincing. "That's good, though. I have to say, I kind of missed living in a city." It doesn't mean anything. There's nothing in the world he would have traded his life on the island for.

Andrea nods, looking down at her lap briefly before she forces her gaze back up to Sam. She's not the one who's lost everything here and yet she still feels like something is suddenly missing. There's this entire life she's had that she doesn't even know about and it's so selfish of her, but it does feel a little like she's lost something, too. Or had something taken away from her or denied her in some way. It isn't a fair thought at all, she's been given so much in Darrow and she's very happy here, but the feeling is there all the same.

"There are a lot more opportunities here, that much is certain," she says and she's thinking of both Sam and Jordan. She remembers sitting on the beach with him, having him tell her about the life he was supposed to have, the business he was supposed to take over. Even then, she'd been able to see just how much he was capable of and on the island it would have been wasted. He might have been happy and she's sorry he's had so much taken from him, but she also knows he's capable of big things. He can do that here, he has that chance. "I'm back in school to finish my law degree. If everything goes well, I'll be able to practice by this time next year. There's... it's very different from the island."

"Wow," Sam says, brow raising, before his expression softens a little. "That's great. I'm happy for you." He means it, but he doesn't feel it, a fact that's clear in the way he sounds. Happiness barely begin to figure into any of this. No matter how pleased for her he might be that she'll finish law school here, actually get to practice, in a place where it seems like a degree and a job like that will do a hell of a lot more good than they ever did on the island, he can't yet get past the cost. He'd rather be with her back there. Still, this is her life, even if it isn't his, and no matter what world they're in or what memories she has, he'd never want anything but the best for her. Maybe that's what makes this so goddamn difficult. "Guess I'll have to figure out something I can do. That's a first."

"You'll figure something out. I know you will," she says and she manages a soft smile as the cab pulls up to an unfamiliar building. It looks a lot different than the one she lives in -- older, with more character -- and she peers up at from inside the cab.

"You should have keys in that envelope, too," she tells him. "I don't know if you want me to come up with you, but I can, I... it's up to you." The only thing she's sure of right now is that she needs to tread lightly, take care with what she says and what she does. Everything else, what she needs, what she wants, what Sam wants and what Jordan might need, it's all a complicated, confusing blur. For now all she knows is that she needs to be careful.

"I don't want to keep you," Sam says, just a beat too quickly to seem like that's all there is to it. The truth of the matter is, he's not sure he can stand it, and though he thinks a lot changed in his time on the island, the months he had with Andrea and his dad around, in the face of something like this, he can't help falling into old habits. He isn't sure he should ever have broken them in the first place, shutting people out and keeping them at a distance having worked pretty well for him before now, except that if he hadn't, Jordan would never have been born. No matter what he's lost in the process, he can't imagine willing her into nonexistence. "But thanks. For your help."

"Of course," she says with a nod, her gaze drifting from Sam to Jordan then back again. She hesitates for a moment, then reaches into her bag and tears a piece of paper out of one of her notebook. There's a pen just under her books and she gropes for it for a second, then jots her number down on the paper and offers it to Sam. "If you need anything, just call me, okay? Even if you just have questions about this place or... anything."

She doesn't know if he'll actually call her, but she hopes he will. They both need time to make sense of what's happened, to figure out where they stand, but she wants to be able to help him as much as she can. And Jordan, too. She might not remember carrying her and giving birth, but if Sam says she's her mother, then Andrea knows the last thing in the world she'll be able to do is pretend otherwise.

Sam frowns down at the paper for a moment like it's written in another language instead of numbers that he's familiar with. For as much as he understands this, it might as well be. But then, he guesses there's no protocol for something like this, no way of being able to tell what a person is and isn't supposed to do, and no matter how easy — or at least how much easier — it would be to turn away and shut her out, he remembers too well what it was like to grow up without a mother. He can't decide for Jordan that she's going to have to, too, can't just tell Andrea that she doesn't get to be a part of her life if she wants to be. Right now is far too soon for any of that, but he folds the paper and sticks it in the pocket of his jeans, nodding once. "Alright," he says. "I'll do that."

She isn't sure what to say now; goodbye sounds as if she'll never see him again and see you soon seems too presumptuous. Suddenly, though, she needs to be away from him, she needs to go somewhere and think for a long time before going home and telling Spike what's happened. There's so much to explain and so little of it she understands, but she knows it's no easier for Sam. That it's worse for him, that he's lost something she's never even known.

"Good luck," she settles on saying, giving him a gentle smile.

Her heart is beating hard and fast again, her hands trembling against her thighs where they rest. She needs to find a place to be alone for a little while.

Edited 2014-04-06 14:55 (UTC)

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