Sam Flynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
improvises) wrote2014-03-18 02:36 am
improvises) wrote2014-03-18 02:36 am
(no subject)
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."
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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"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.
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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."
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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."
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"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.
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"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."
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"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.
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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.
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"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.