066. Baby Come On Home

[samson]

[Look, here's Brock's deep and manly voice. Despite... everything... he sounds pretty damn blasé, as per usual.]

I'm back, by the way. Don't make a big deal about it. I've been back for awhile but I'm, uh, really busy, so.

[Busy dealing with his wife.......]

Anyway, I haven't made it back to the cabin yet, but please tell me somebody did me a solid and like... cleaned up.

Comments

[molotov]

[Sniffle!]

But you do not want me!

[samson]

[ughhhHHHHH] Molotov, you been climbing on me for days... I don't know how you're getting 'I don't want you' from all that.

[molotov]

You don't want me anymore!

[samson]

Molotov, it's been over a week! I need to have some Me Time.

[molotov]

You do not want me, but you want to masturbate?!

[samson]

[WH--] That's not what I meant!

[molotov]

What else could it mean!

[samson]

[He just kind of pushes at her head gently.] Stop. I'm serious. You like... literally told me the exact same thing right after we got married, that you needed alone time.

[molotov]

That was different, I did not die.

[samson]

It's like a magic bullshit death, it doesn't even count. I'm fine. [Push push push.]

[molotov]

So what, you would be fine if I died here?

[samson]

[A thoughtful pause in pushing at her skull.] We're... not talking about me.

The point is, I'm not going anywhere. And I'm exhausted.

[molotov]

But you might go away. And it should not matter if it is a real death or not. You died.

You don't understand what it is like, to live through that.

[samson]

[Brock sighs, finally giving up on pushing at her to take her face in his hands instead, speaking softly.]

After that thing that happened to you, you made me go away.

[molotov]

That wasn't the same. I did not die. I was still alive.

[samson]

[He's no good at poetics, so he just tilts in to kiss her briefly instead.]

Honey. But I'm fine. You weren't... fine.

[molotov]

[After he kisses her, she sighs and settles down on his chest, reaching out for his hands.]

It was still different. You knew I would be here. Not everyone comes back when they die.

[samson]

[Urgh... words tho... he's so bad at this. He lets her take his hands, though.]

I mean, I didn't... know you'd come back from that. You know...

[molotov]

[She laces their fingers together, and lies silent against his chest plate for a moment, blinking slowly.]

At least you would have gotten to say good-bye.

[samson]

[Brock squeezes her fingers a bit, just letting her be quiet. They probably should have... talked... long before this, but. It was hard to pull her away from him for long enough to get to it.]

Baby, you were delirious. I couldn't... [He doesn't even like thinking about it.]

[molotov]

And you were gone.

[samson]

[So was she. Just in a different way.]

Okay, but... I'm here now. Okay? I'm not going anywhere.

[molotov]

But what if you do? You will be gone, you will forget me, forget this...

[samson]

I won't. I promise. I mean... you think some bullshit magic castle can keep me from you? Come on.

[molotov]

[Molotov goes quiet again, blinking back a tear or two.]

I asked Ezio, when he came back from his trip home. He did not remember. And House, he did not remember either.

You will forget, you will be afraid of me again. We won't be together.