Ebb and Flow

[shifting]

WHO: Sam Merlotte & various
WHERE: De Chima & Heropa
WHEN: July 2016
WHAT: Catch-all for July, closed starters in the comments.
WARNINGS: N/A

Comments

[shifting]

You can't - [he shook his head, exhaled harshly.] What do you want me to say? That's not somethin' you can plan for. You think I could've had any control last time? S'not like bein' a goddamn werewolf or somethin', when you know the moon's comin' and you can lock yourself away for a night. Wasn't a person here ready for what happened.

[he looked like he might say something else, but sucked on his tongue instead, sending Chilton's bookshelf a harsh look as his cheek hollowed and jaw twitched. Yeah, the point resonated. Like hell Sam was admitting that aloud - Chilton's smooth, self-assured questions rang like the tug of a lead he was determined to dig his heels in against - but he also couldn't deny the reasoning. Yeah, it made sense.

...Christ, but he missed Luna. Sam closed his eyes at a moment's brief heartache, breathing out. She'd have handled all of this better. He'd have her to rely on.

He wouldn't even be here to begin with.]

...Why the hell do you care, Dr. Chilton? Why are we doin' this? Are you just worried I'll come after you again the next time shit happens?

[slightlyoffchilt]

I am certain you'd come after me next time, yes.

[He spoke it with such conviction; Chilton had never been shy about voicing his frets over personal health and safety.]

But it is more than that, Sam. You do not simply represent yourself -- however screwball that entity might be -- you are part of us now. The imPort community.

[Quite contrary to the soaring spires of emotion that typically latched onto rhetoric like community, Chilton almost appeared aghast at the very idea that he and Sam Merlotte were indeed brethren of some nature. When one member of a group could disparage the entirety, order and control was all the more prudent. And this one in particular, this one had been chained to Chilton for a many layered reasons.

This one was his specific responsibility.]

You cannot escape that similarity.

[shifting]

Similarity between me and you? [Oh, there was a laugh. Sam had wondered more than once if Chilton wasn't, in some way, his antithesis - the other end of his magnet, diametrically opposed. Everything Sam felt good and worth living for in this world, Chilton seemed to sneer at. Like something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

Community, though. Community. Funny Chilton should bring that up.]

I've got no problem being part of this community. I want to be. And I've got plans for that. [adapting, shifting himself to fit in, yeah, Sam could do that. He'd done it before.] You can't think I'm the threat to the flock, here.

Or that you're the one to play the shepherd, honestly. 'Cause that's what's stickin' in my craw right now. [he cast Chilton a careful look. ] Even if I agreed I could use some direction, or just someone to - keep an eye on things, you've done nothin' to convince me you're the one to offer that.

Hell, I'm startin' to feel like every time we even share the same space, there's a risk we're gonna start a fire. Like oil and a match.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Nothing quite as cleansing as a fire, is there?

[Chilton only offered a faint smirk in reply, his commitment to his vision burned into the very mannerism of his words. There was nothing he would make translucent, not now, not when Sam had already made up his mind. There was no point in throwing an empty bucket at an inferno.]

You are making your choice as we speak, Sam. I'm sure that is something of a relief, to know you're still in control of your own choice.

[Because Chilton had a remedy for that, too. But another time, perhaps, another need later down the line.]

Have you said your piece?

[shifting]

Makes for less clean-up. [You know, if you don't mind scorched earth.

Sam dragged his hands up the thighs of his jeans, watching the psychiatrist intently. Then he nodded, slowly. He couldn't quite hide his surprise that said choice would be honored without further cajoling. Maybe this was progress between them, however small; some things you could only measure in degrees.

(And with a magnifying glass.)]

Yeah. I have. You said yours?

[slightlyoffchilt]

I've said all that you would hear.

[Another implied dagger. Chilton tilted his head, armed with a smile, and resisted the temptation to wink. He believed what he had said about Sam, and his rationale remained: if Sam Merlotte was a walking time bomb, then Chilton knew where to be when the blast went off.]

You know how to contact me, if ever you change your mind about things.