<— real entry thataway. fic here.

<— real entry thataway. fic here.

Title: Pages From Anthony’s Notebook
Characters: Sam and Charlie
Word Count: 600
Written: 30/1 June/July 2007
Rating: High, for language
Notes: for who asked for: being a big brother for Anthony, Jed, so I hope this works. It’s told out of order and in vignettes and through the eyes of Anthony …

( Pages From Anthony’s Notebook )

and …

Ok, just for raedbard (because she IS the best WW writer I’ve met and I love her to death), I wrote a semi-sequel to Otis that I’m going to repost here. The title, of course, is Redding (Part One). You get to make up the ending of this one too.

It was beautiful, the way the mist rose through the trees so early in the morning. He supposed there was a technical, real term for it, though he did not know. His father would know, hell, even Sam would know, but Huck had never warmed to Sam, couldn’t warm enough now to ask the question. Instead he squeezed his father’s arm gently; Huck always did everything gently. The doctors had said he would talk again in time, but for now to concentrate on the rest of his body healing. But what about his spirit? Huck had asked and he swears his father smiled.

It had taken Sam to get the doctors to agree to let them take him ‘home’ for the weekend; Huck had no intention of ever taking his father home. Once they were in the car, with Sam in the back with Toby, Huck had announced he’d rented a cabin for two nights. Sam had protested; his father only smiled again. And so they went, and here they were.

Toby woke Sam at five, tugged on his arm until the younger man woke up. Walk he wrote shakily on a piece of paper and Sam had smiled, nodded.

I love you

If only he could form enough to make the words come; if only his body would not betray him. But it was Sam, and Sam knew, even if he didn’t say anything back; Sam didn’t need to say anything back, there was something unspoken between them. Sam was the one who had held his hand in the hospital for days. All of that was a haze to Toby. He could only remember music.

Do you remember when we were happy?

They’d fought two days before the accident; Toby now understood why some people were so insistent on ending conversations with ‘I love you’ no matter what. He glanced at Sam, frowned slightly, did he remember? He acted devoted, not happy. Here, here in the middle of the wood he could tell Sam; find a way without words to let him know sometimes forever wasn’t forever.

It was then Huck ran up, breathless, scowling. Huck had been to the hospital room, Toby knew that. Toby knew it even if no-one else did. Even if Huck never corrected Sam when Sam related the events of those post-accident days and who had visited and who had not.

Huck squeezed his arm, gently; he would be there. No matter what he had his Huck. Molly was joined at the hip to Josh’s girl and hadn’t wanted to come, not even with Huck pleading on the phone. Perhaps they were both lesbians. Toby laughed a little at that, Sam squeezed his hand and Huck, Huck did nothing. But then again, Huck always did everything gently.

Toby stopped, looked intently at Huck, then pointed towards the cabin. He wouldn’t let Huck come in the car; he wasn’t going to let Huck see him destroy himself again. Huck scowled, swore, stomped off. Sam had a smirk on his face, almost triumphant; it lasted only a second, but it was there all the same.

Toby turned to Sam, still figuring out how to say what he wanted to say. “I love you,” Sam interrupted. “I love you so much Toby. This cabin’s for sale, we could make it our forever.”

And Toby hesitated.

Do you remember …

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