[ the thing is - sam is quite used to asking people what is wrong. he's just as used to being ignored, when he does. or having to try and coax out bits and pieces of what makes up the stories of their lives over the course of their time together. and yes, he knew that everyone is different - clocked julie as not being one of the types to keep quiet and keep things close to the vest, if given the opportunity. but the fact she just opens up is...well in a weird way, kind of refreshing.
sam listens - his brow still furrowed, he frown deepening marginally, as she continues to pain the picture of what she left behind. it's sick, really - thinking about how the world can come to that, how sam isn't all that surprised to hear how the government handled things, what they turned it all into. he could argue, could try and press further into his reasonings for why he's trying, with marlo. why it's always worth trying, even when everything feels so overwhelmingly and unquestionably over. but he's been here, been through enough of this, to know there's very little use for that.
julie has no reason to believe a government body would do anything to help her, and sam doesn't blame her for that stance in the least. if anything, he feels a kind of anger on her behalf - of the hell she lived through, on the way she clawed her way to where she was. las vegas, in the midst of the end of the world.
there are tears in her eyes and on her cheeks when she finally comes to a kind of stop, her body tense and her breathing shallow. her arms fall to her sides, her gesturing done and over with, and sam lets her finish - all the way to the end. all the way through that broken, desperate question. and then, once she's had time to say it, he moves - not suddenly, exactly, but without hesitation - to lean forward and wrap his arms around her neck. to pull her close and tight for a hug. when he does finally speak, it's into her shoulder, or the side of her hair, because for as long as she doesn't pull away from him he's going to hold her in the hug. ]
I'm sorry, Julie. You've been through hell and back, and you shouldn't have had to. [ it's unimaginable, really, but sam doesn't think focusing on it will help. doesn't think she wants to hear, in this moment, about how strong she is, or what she's been through to get here. sam will apologize, for the fates or the world or whoever else owes her one, and then give her a squeeze. just one, where he holds her just a bit tighter, as his voice remains firm as he continues. ]
And you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to- you can stay here, or you can come back with me, or go wherever you want. No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to, and we will figure this out, one way or another, stupid rock or not.
rip
sam listens - his brow still furrowed, he frown deepening marginally, as she continues to pain the picture of what she left behind. it's sick, really - thinking about how the world can come to that, how sam isn't all that surprised to hear how the government handled things, what they turned it all into. he could argue, could try and press further into his reasonings for why he's trying, with marlo. why it's always worth trying, even when everything feels so overwhelmingly and unquestionably over. but he's been here, been through enough of this, to know there's very little use for that.
julie has no reason to believe a government body would do anything to help her, and sam doesn't blame her for that stance in the least. if anything, he feels a kind of anger on her behalf - of the hell she lived through, on the way she clawed her way to where she was. las vegas, in the midst of the end of the world.
there are tears in her eyes and on her cheeks when she finally comes to a kind of stop, her body tense and her breathing shallow. her arms fall to her sides, her gesturing done and over with, and sam lets her finish - all the way to the end. all the way through that broken, desperate question. and then, once she's had time to say it, he moves - not suddenly, exactly, but without hesitation - to lean forward and wrap his arms around her neck. to pull her close and tight for a hug. when he does finally speak, it's into her shoulder, or the side of her hair, because for as long as she doesn't pull away from him he's going to hold her in the hug. ]
I'm sorry, Julie. You've been through hell and back, and you shouldn't have had to. [ it's unimaginable, really, but sam doesn't think focusing on it will help. doesn't think she wants to hear, in this moment, about how strong she is, or what she's been through to get here. sam will apologize, for the fates or the world or whoever else owes her one, and then give her a squeeze. just one, where he holds her just a bit tighter, as his voice remains firm as he continues. ]
And you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to- you can stay here, or you can come back with me, or go wherever you want. No one is going to make you do anything you don't want to, and we will figure this out, one way or another, stupid rock or not.