To find forgiveness in the weeds
Nate made space for him and Sam easily slotted into his arms, smiling contentedly as he fit into place. You really couldn't beat falling asleep in the embrace of a lover; the many nights he'd spent holding a pillow and trying to imagine, eyes tight shut - he had not even known the joy he was trying to create in his mind.
He was accustomed to thinking of Nate as confident, collected. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice the panic in his voice at first, though he did still feel a little guilty as he heard the question. "Um...The Voice called me. I...knew you might want to go with me, but you couldn't."
Sam tapped out a soft beat with his fingers on Nate's chest. "It was dangerous - one of my...well, not friends, but...a man I knew...he died." He stared straight ahead at the wall, seeing in his mind the image of Lucas punctured, tossed aside like a ragdoll. "I was hurt too, but The Voice healed me - she would likely not have been able to do the same for you."
