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[personal profile] spindizzy
Goodnight just laughs, relying on drunk to cover heartsick, and smiling wide enough to flash a wink of gold to cover the seams. "I can't get in a Jaeger, Sam, and you know it. I'd blow the base without even knowing it was there."

Sam inclines his head, allowing for the possibility. Sam knows he's got the dubious honour of being the only one he'd admit that to, because Lord knows that Sam's seen him worse off than this.

(He had the idea once of asking Sam if he'd go to the mat with him, see if they were compatible, but he doesn't know what'd be worse – knowing once and for all that they're not, or their being compatible and Sam finally seeing the coward heart that beats in Goodnight's chest and pulses run run run.

Even knowing for certain whether Sam's actually got that death wish wouldn't make up for that.)

"I need you, Goody," Sam says again, and puts his hand on Goodnight's shoulder. It's warm and steadying, and Goodnight takes a deep breath that shudders on the way in.

"If that's true, then God help us all." But he doesn't brush Sam's hand away, and he stays in his chair while Sam talks, Sam's thumb rubbing absently against his shoulder in time with his heart beating run, run, run.




He doesn't know who's more surprised to find that he doesn't run, him or Sam. Sam keeps his cards close to his chest, but he actually trips over his "Good morning" when Goodnight joins him in the hotel dining room.
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