#{ all the stars in texas }♕➥{ sam drake verse }

[rcjoice]

"Is this a bad time?"

"my kids are sleeping, sam." why the fuck was he coming around this late at night, anyway? didn't he get the memo that ashton was mad at him? how could he not be after the fucking stunt he pulled. "besides, i don't talk to dead guys." and with that he goes to slam the door in sam's face, a fitting end to this conversation, he thinks.

[rcjoice]

it had been a very long time since ashton had even thought about treasure hunting, longer since he had actually done it. if he didn't have a picture of him and sam, taken just before their last job together, that convinced ashton it wasn't some drug fueled fever dream that he had come up to cope with whatever problems he was dealing with at the time. no one just becomes a treasure hunter by taking some sketchy job, right? but he had, and he had watched sam take that bullet as they ran through some jungle away from someone else with guns in hand and greed in their eyes. he had watched the way he dropped, ashton barely able to look back to see where he fell as he stumbles behind the two other men that remain.

that had been eighteen years ago, and all that he had to show for it was a small bronze figure that ashton had no idea what it was or what do with it. sam was the one who had all the connections. all ashton was supposed to be is an extra body, an extra gun, an extra pair of hands for these jobs. and he was, for the most part, but he also ended up keeping sam company more often than either of them cared to admit; admitting to it is talking about it and the lines didn't need to be blurred more.

he had moved on in the eighteen years since, he had given himself a semblance of normality with his life that he hadn't really ever thought possible. he's home alone when the knock comes, his brows furrowed as he opens the door. "whatever you're selling, i don't---" the sight of the other man's face makes his chest tight, heart dropping into his ass it feels like. "is this a fucking joke right now?"

@rcjoice

it had been a long time coming. after five years of freedom, a total eighteen years without seeing him, sam owed ashton some form of apology. it's not that he didn't want to see him and apologize, not by any means, but how was he supposed to do this? 'hey, sorry it's been eighteen years. you totally thought i was dead, huh?' it didn't sound good. sounded even worse than the bullshit he'd fed nathan when he finally reunited with him. the first two years were maybe forgiveable, if ashton would believe it was for both their safety. maybe. but the last three years, he had no excuse for. hell, he had no real reason to show back up in ashton's life anyway, did he? they'd known each other for just over a year when sam 'died'. maybe showing up was pointless, maybe he'd be met with a 'wait, who are you?'. that would be ideal, actually. much easier to handle. but just in case ashton did remember, in case it would do any good, here he was. standing at the same apartment where he'd last seen ashton, where he'd promised him a (very very small) cut of pirate treasure before disappearing. he knocks once, too soft and he knows it. nerves had never been a problem before, but they seemed to be now. goddammit. another knock, more solid. when he's met with nothing it's almost a relief, but the minute he turns to leave it opens. and it's definitely the right address.

"hey, quincy. long time no see."