To find forgiveness in the weeds
Talking to Remi had calmed Sam's initial panic after he had returned from the fight at the Mathair, but the exhaustion was set deep into his bones - not physical, not quite. The Voice had healed them all and he felt as strong as he ever had in his muscles. But his spirit was strung out and defeated.
Slumping through the door to the room he and Nate were borrowing, he pulled off the shirt Remi had made him; a kind gesture but the fabric felt constricting somehow. His pants were sodden with fluid, blood and dirt, so those came off too.
When he looked to the bed he expected to see Nate asleep, but he started as he saw the man looking right back at him. "Oh, hello...it's...been a rather tiring night." Walking over to the side of the bed, making a face at the cold stone floor on his bare feet, he slid into bed next to Nate and pulled up the covers around him. "Did you wonder where I had gone?"
