Sacred (Rumble RP 3)
Apr 14, 2024 16:12:47 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by Sam Sawyer on Apr 14, 2024 16:12:47 GMT -5
Sam places their hand on their thigh. On His Mark.
Sam: Forgive me...
. . .
The training is coming along well. Whether they truly believe or not that the X*Crown will make a difference, they're beginning to conquer the doubt holding them back. But even their best won't be good enough. Not enough to be certain. Even in a normal match, they could never be certain, and a Rumble is far from their comfort zone. They need to be certain, now more than ever. They've weight trained, they've endurance trained, they've worked on drills to hone their agility and balance with the ropes. They've considered how to use the rules to their advantage and practiced their weapon technique. But they can see the bitter failure in their future all too clearly.
Sam: Mitchell... do you think I'm attractive?
The color drains from his face. His anxious eyes tell them the answer.
Sam: Good.
Indifferent, Sam leaves him hanging and starts making their way to the cafeteria. It wasn't much of a surprise. They don't have high hopes.
Sam: Carlos. Do you think I'm attractive?
Sam looms over the table, brazen and matter-of-fact. Oliver gives them a confused-looking smirk. Carlos narrows his eyes but stays cool, as if desensitized to their weird antics.
Carlos: I have a girlfriend.
Sam: Yeah. But am I attractive?
Carlos: I guess... yeah.
Sam: Be honest. I need to know.
Oliver: I'd date you. If I was single. Totally.
Sam stares at both of them in turn, eyes intense with concentration.
Carlos: Why do you ask?
Sam: ... I'm going to Minnesota.
Carlos: ... Oh.
Sam keeps staring at them.
Carlos: Yeah... go for it.
They turn to Oliver. He nods. A little reluctant, but they believe him.
. . .
Sam looks at the others on the plane, wondering if they should practice on somebody. They decide against it. They've done something like this before, they know they'll be fine. It will all come down to what the other person wants.
They believe they have a chance. It's not even like they're asking for much. It's just a number. As far as anyone in there thinks, it probably won't even change the result of the match. Even thirty-nine or thirty-eight would be good enough. And if they're not interested in Sam, maybe they'll feel sorry for them and give them it anyway.
They stare idly out the window, their breathing slow and steady. Rather than anxiety, their apprehension takes the form of a cold, insidious knot of revulsion in the pit of their stomach. This is a selfish act. Giving up their body, and their virginity, isn't a gift to Him. It's a theft. And worse than that, an act of defiance. They don't feel like they have His permission. The silence is worse than indifferent. But they know they're not going to turn back.
Near the end of the flight, they close their eyes to try to block out the feeling. They focus on the distant chatter coming from a mother and her excited children. They can just about hear every word. Soon it's all they can hear. It means nothing to them, but it soothes them.
It's mid afternoon by the time they arrive outside the XHF Network complex. It's an incredible sight. They never would have imagined their first trip here would be under these circumstances. Memories of events they watched growing up briefly come to the surface. But they're not intimidated. He towers over all of it.
?: Hey, Sam! What are you doing here?
Inside the Headquarters, Sam is stopped in their tracks by a man offering his hand. He smiles, looking genuinely happy to see them.
Sam: Hi.
They shake his hand.
Sam: I... uh...
They suddenly burst out crying. They sob as an intense torrent of tears flood down their face.
?: Sam! Hey, come with me...
The man grabs their hand and quickly leads them away. He finds a door and checks inside, then moves on to another.
?: Here.
They enter the empty office.
?: Can I get you anything, Sam?
Sam just stares at him helplessly for a while, then slowly shakes their head.
?: Do you want to talk, or... should I leave you?
Sam sniffs.
Sam: Stay.
The man nods, smiling kindly.
?: No problem.
He gestures for them to take a seat on the sofa. They slowly oblige as he sits down across the table from them.
?: I'm Marcus, by the way.
Sam gives him a weak smile. He's handsome and in his thirties, not really what they were looking for. But when they felt a sadness grow inside them for some reason, they had to take advantage.
Marcus: Something's really... wrong... isn't it?
They sniff again then look to the floor.
Marcus: I'm not really... it's not my job. I can get someone qualified for this if you want.
Sam: No!
He jumps a little in his seat.
Sam: No. Stay. You're the nicest person I've talked to in... forever. No one else cares.
Marcus: Because of Poena, right?
Sam: Yeah. I'm done with him. But no one believes me.
Marcus: You're done? That's awesome, Sam. I knew you'd come through. He brainwashed you, didn't he?
Sam puts on a guilty look and softly shakes their head.
Sam: No...
Marcus's face darkens.
Marcus: Oh. So...
Sam: I believed him. I still believe him. But... I just couldn't do it any more.
Some more tears would help right now, but they don't come.
Sam: He won't let me go.
They speak in a strange, tortured voice, almost unearthly. Then add:
Sam: Not Poena. Him. God.
Marcus stares at them. He's completely still on the sofa. Tears start forming in his eyes.
Marcus: Did you come here for help?
Sam stares back at Marcus. Looking into his eyes, they forget themselves for a minute.
Marcus: Sam?
Sam: ... No.
As their eyes dry up, they clench their right fist tightly. It's not hidden from Marcus but it's not meant for him either.
Sam: I still love Him. I wanted to do what's right.
Marcus: Sam... what did you come here for?
Their eyes flare in anger. They jump off their seat and storm towards the door.
Sam: Leave me alone!
Marcus: Sam!
Marcus grabs their arm. They try to break free, gently.
Marcus: Sam, don't! Please!
Sam looks at Marcus in horror. Tears start to flow.
Sam: I'm not gonna do anything! I'm going home!
Marcus is taken aback by their reaction. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Marcus: Sorry... sorry. Please... come back inside.
Sam sobs as they glare at Marcus. They free their arm and return to the sofa. Marcus joins them, his face white.
Sam: I was never gonna hurt anyone. I was gonna... I was gonna... you know.
Marcus: What?
Sam: For number forty.
Realization hits Marcus. He sighs, exasperated.
Marcus: Sam, that's crazy.
Sam tries to look disgusted with themselves.
Sam: It's for Him. He said... the X*Crown... would change everything. The world needs it. It's my responsibility.
Marcus: Sam... He's not real.
Sam closes their eyes. They hear no movement from Marcus in the long silence. When they open them, they smile faintly.
Sam: He is real.
Marcus has no answer. Sam looks down at the table. Their breaths grow louder and tenser.
Sam: Maybe I could still do it.
They look back up.
Sam: It's not like I'd be hurting anyone. Do you know anyone? With the power?
Marcus: What? No, Sam.
Sam: Someone single?
Marcus: No!
Sam: Please, Marcus.
Marcus: Do you really think I'm gonna let you do this? You're not in your right mind.
Sam: You're not in your right mind. Didn't you see what Poena did to Jack's family? What if he does the same to me?
Marcus: I'm gonna get help...
Sam: NO!
Sam jumps off the sofa as Marcus stands up.
Sam: You don't know what he'll do to me, Marcus! What God will do to me! This is real! You're acting like I'm crazy!
Sam sobs.
Sam: I've done this before. I can handle myself. It's nothing.
Marcus: No one will do it, Sam. You're under duress.
Sam: Don't tell them I've been acting crazy.
Sam closes their eyes, frustrated, then glares at Marcus.
Sam: Stay here. Don't say anything or I'll say you touched me.
Marcus glares back. Sam leaves him alone in the room.
After washing their face, they head over to the front desk.
Receptionist: Oh. Hi, Sam.
Sam: Hi. I need to speak to someone about the Rumble.
Receptionist: Okay. Do you have an appointment?
Sam: No. Can I make one now?
Receptionist: What do you need to speak about?
Sam: It's private.
Receptionist: Well... unless it's important, we usually ask that you fill out a form on the website. Did you try that?
Sam: It is important.
The receptionist narrows her eyes.
Receptionist: They won't just let you in unless I can give them a good reason. Especially at this time of year. Can you tell me what it's about?
Sam: No.
Receptionist: You'll have to use the website then. Sorry, Sam.
Sam: But I need to talk to someone in person.
Receptionist: Sam, there's nothing I can do.
Sam's cold expression turns into a sharp glare. Subtle but hateful.
Sam: Can I speak with someone else?
The receptionist is unfazed. Her expression also sours.
Receptionist: I'm doing everything I can. I want to help you.
Sam: I need to speak to someone. It's private.
Receptionist: ... You can't.
Sam: Is it Poena?
Receptionist: Poena...? Oh... your tag partner?
Sam grinds their teeth.
Sam: I want to quit.
Receptionist: Huh?
Sam: I want to quit XHF.
Receptionist: Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. There's a resignation form on the website. Or do you want a hard copy?
Sam: I need to talk to someone. I might hurt myself.
Sam remains cold, their tone of voice completely unchanged.
Receptionist: Would you like to see a doctor?
Her voice is compassionate in a way, but she obviously doesn't believe them. Not that it would matter if she did.
Sam: Get fucked.
Sam turns their back on her. They survey the lobby, trying to find a map of the building. With no luck, they start walking around. They'll check every single floor if they have to. But they keep being met with signs either restricting access or guiding them back to reception. Then they spot a man in a suit, like Marcus, but older. They rush up to him.
Sam: Hey. Excuse me.
The man halts, caught off guard for a second. He seems mildly annoyed at first, but gives them a smile.
?: Can I help you?
Sam: Hi. I'm Sam Sawyer.
The man squints his eyes, concentrating.
?: Sam Sawyer... I know that name.
Sam: Yes. Sam Sawyer.
Sam has to fight to keep the annoyance out of their voice.
?: You're from... SCCW?
Sam: Tap Out.
?: Tap Out. Of course. Sorry.
He laughs.
?: What can I do for you?
Sam: I want to talk to someone abou-
?: Oh, have you been to reception?
Sam: Yeah. She wouldn't listen.
He grins.
?: Go back to reception. We get this all the time. Sorry, got to run.
He abandons them before they can say another word. All the energy drains from their body as they stand frozen to the spot. Some of the framed photos of XHF's wrestlers and sub companies catch their eye. A chilling, bitter humbleness runs through them and they hate it. This is never going to work. Fame was a large part of the attraction. They're lucky to be in the Rumble at all. They should get out of here.
Sam finds a nearby cafe to sit while they wait for their flight. On their phone, they study their opponents and past Rumble matches, not feeling like it but knowing they should. They haven't enjoyed doing this in a long time. Now it's harder than ever. They can barely concentrate.
They thought the tears were given to them by Him. Then they thought as they flailed and stumbled around, fucking everything up, He was watching, pitying them. But now they doubt He was ever there with them at all. They keep having to wipe the tears from the screen, their heart breaking.
Some time after their tears have dried, they hear a voice from their right.
?: Excuse me, young ma'am?
Sam turns to see an elderly man standing by the table.
?: You couldn't buy me a sandwich, could you?
His tone is a little abrupt, but there's a humor and warmth in his face.
Sam: Sure.
They answer without thinking, then give him a kind smile.
?: Very kind of you, sweetheart.
Sam: What would you like?
?: Pass me that menu.
Sam hands it to him. He stares at it for a long time. Sam is happy to wait, not even realizing the worries have gone from their mind.
?: Sorry, ma'am...
He mumbles, focused intently on the menu.
Sam: Take your time.
?: I can't choose between the peanut butter and jelly and the grilled cheese. I had the roast beef yesterday.
Sam: They do peanut butter and jelly?
?: Yeah. Delicious.
Sam: Maybe I'll have one.
?: I guess I will too.
Sam: You can have both if you want.
?: No, no. I wasn't trying to trick you. A PB and J is fine.
Sam: Have both.
They both share a smile.
?: That's very kind.
Sam: I have a lot of money. It's kinda going to waste, so... I could-
?: No, no, no. Don't do that.
Sam: It's fine. Honestly.
?: You've got your whole life ahead of you. I'd feel terrible. I'm happy with a peanut butter and jelly... and a grilled cheese.
Sam: Okay, yeah, sorry...
They worry they patronized him.
?: Don't be sorry. You're a gem. What's your name?
Sam: Sam.
?: Sam. I'm Archie.
Sam: Can't I just give you enough money to eat for a week?
Archie puts his hand on top of Sam's.
Archie: You're not in trouble or anything, are you?
Sam tries their best to reassure him with a smile.
Sam: No. You'll be fine, won't you?
Archie: Sure I will.
Sam nods, trying to stay cool. They don't want him to worry.
Archie sits with Sam for a minute until a waiter takes his order.
Sam: I better go. I don't want to miss my flight. I'll take care of the check for you.
Archie: Thank you, Sam.
Sam stands up.
Sam: It was nice meeting you, Archie.
Archie: And you, Sam. Have a safe journey.
Sam: Bye.
Sam's smile is gone as soon as they leave the table. They pay the check and leave the cafe. They could easily have stayed longer if they wanted, and eaten with Archie, but their heart couldn't take it any longer.
They didn't realize why they were doing it at first. Or why it felt so good. They thought maybe they were happy again. They felt free. But then they realized they were only seeing Archie as He saw him. He loves Archie. Like He does everyone else, He loves him with all of His heart. He would stop at nothing to see him happy. That's just who He is. Always giving. Never taking.
By doing His work, they felt closer to Him. It gave them a deep, familial sense of belonging, and they felt His love. But even then, He's still so far away.
They know He doesn't love them any less after what they did. However selfish they may become, He will never stop trying to heal them and help them find peace. But they can't accept that. They just can't. They don't want to heal until they are in His arms.
Sam: Forgive me...
. . .
The training is coming along well. Whether they truly believe or not that the X*Crown will make a difference, they're beginning to conquer the doubt holding them back. But even their best won't be good enough. Not enough to be certain. Even in a normal match, they could never be certain, and a Rumble is far from their comfort zone. They need to be certain, now more than ever. They've weight trained, they've endurance trained, they've worked on drills to hone their agility and balance with the ropes. They've considered how to use the rules to their advantage and practiced their weapon technique. But they can see the bitter failure in their future all too clearly.
Sam: Mitchell... do you think I'm attractive?
The color drains from his face. His anxious eyes tell them the answer.
Sam: Good.
Indifferent, Sam leaves him hanging and starts making their way to the cafeteria. It wasn't much of a surprise. They don't have high hopes.
Sam: Carlos. Do you think I'm attractive?
Sam looms over the table, brazen and matter-of-fact. Oliver gives them a confused-looking smirk. Carlos narrows his eyes but stays cool, as if desensitized to their weird antics.
Carlos: I have a girlfriend.
Sam: Yeah. But am I attractive?
Carlos: I guess... yeah.
Sam: Be honest. I need to know.
Oliver: I'd date you. If I was single. Totally.
Sam stares at both of them in turn, eyes intense with concentration.
Carlos: Why do you ask?
Sam: ... I'm going to Minnesota.
Carlos: ... Oh.
Sam keeps staring at them.
Carlos: Yeah... go for it.
They turn to Oliver. He nods. A little reluctant, but they believe him.
. . .
Sam looks at the others on the plane, wondering if they should practice on somebody. They decide against it. They've done something like this before, they know they'll be fine. It will all come down to what the other person wants.
They believe they have a chance. It's not even like they're asking for much. It's just a number. As far as anyone in there thinks, it probably won't even change the result of the match. Even thirty-nine or thirty-eight would be good enough. And if they're not interested in Sam, maybe they'll feel sorry for them and give them it anyway.
They stare idly out the window, their breathing slow and steady. Rather than anxiety, their apprehension takes the form of a cold, insidious knot of revulsion in the pit of their stomach. This is a selfish act. Giving up their body, and their virginity, isn't a gift to Him. It's a theft. And worse than that, an act of defiance. They don't feel like they have His permission. The silence is worse than indifferent. But they know they're not going to turn back.
Near the end of the flight, they close their eyes to try to block out the feeling. They focus on the distant chatter coming from a mother and her excited children. They can just about hear every word. Soon it's all they can hear. It means nothing to them, but it soothes them.
It's mid afternoon by the time they arrive outside the XHF Network complex. It's an incredible sight. They never would have imagined their first trip here would be under these circumstances. Memories of events they watched growing up briefly come to the surface. But they're not intimidated. He towers over all of it.
?: Hey, Sam! What are you doing here?
Inside the Headquarters, Sam is stopped in their tracks by a man offering his hand. He smiles, looking genuinely happy to see them.
Sam: Hi.
They shake his hand.
Sam: I... uh...
They suddenly burst out crying. They sob as an intense torrent of tears flood down their face.
?: Sam! Hey, come with me...
The man grabs their hand and quickly leads them away. He finds a door and checks inside, then moves on to another.
?: Here.
They enter the empty office.
?: Can I get you anything, Sam?
Sam just stares at him helplessly for a while, then slowly shakes their head.
?: Do you want to talk, or... should I leave you?
Sam sniffs.
Sam: Stay.
The man nods, smiling kindly.
?: No problem.
He gestures for them to take a seat on the sofa. They slowly oblige as he sits down across the table from them.
?: I'm Marcus, by the way.
Sam gives him a weak smile. He's handsome and in his thirties, not really what they were looking for. But when they felt a sadness grow inside them for some reason, they had to take advantage.
Marcus: Something's really... wrong... isn't it?
They sniff again then look to the floor.
Marcus: I'm not really... it's not my job. I can get someone qualified for this if you want.
Sam: No!
He jumps a little in his seat.
Sam: No. Stay. You're the nicest person I've talked to in... forever. No one else cares.
Marcus: Because of Poena, right?
Sam: Yeah. I'm done with him. But no one believes me.
Marcus: You're done? That's awesome, Sam. I knew you'd come through. He brainwashed you, didn't he?
Sam puts on a guilty look and softly shakes their head.
Sam: No...
Marcus's face darkens.
Marcus: Oh. So...
Sam: I believed him. I still believe him. But... I just couldn't do it any more.
Some more tears would help right now, but they don't come.
Sam: He won't let me go.
They speak in a strange, tortured voice, almost unearthly. Then add:
Sam: Not Poena. Him. God.
Marcus stares at them. He's completely still on the sofa. Tears start forming in his eyes.
Marcus: Did you come here for help?
Sam stares back at Marcus. Looking into his eyes, they forget themselves for a minute.
Marcus: Sam?
Sam: ... No.
As their eyes dry up, they clench their right fist tightly. It's not hidden from Marcus but it's not meant for him either.
Sam: I still love Him. I wanted to do what's right.
Marcus: Sam... what did you come here for?
Their eyes flare in anger. They jump off their seat and storm towards the door.
Sam: Leave me alone!
Marcus: Sam!
Marcus grabs their arm. They try to break free, gently.
Marcus: Sam, don't! Please!
Sam looks at Marcus in horror. Tears start to flow.
Sam: I'm not gonna do anything! I'm going home!
Marcus is taken aback by their reaction. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Marcus: Sorry... sorry. Please... come back inside.
Sam sobs as they glare at Marcus. They free their arm and return to the sofa. Marcus joins them, his face white.
Sam: I was never gonna hurt anyone. I was gonna... I was gonna... you know.
Marcus: What?
Sam: For number forty.
Realization hits Marcus. He sighs, exasperated.
Marcus: Sam, that's crazy.
Sam tries to look disgusted with themselves.
Sam: It's for Him. He said... the X*Crown... would change everything. The world needs it. It's my responsibility.
Marcus: Sam... He's not real.
Sam closes their eyes. They hear no movement from Marcus in the long silence. When they open them, they smile faintly.
Sam: He is real.
Marcus has no answer. Sam looks down at the table. Their breaths grow louder and tenser.
Sam: Maybe I could still do it.
They look back up.
Sam: It's not like I'd be hurting anyone. Do you know anyone? With the power?
Marcus: What? No, Sam.
Sam: Someone single?
Marcus: No!
Sam: Please, Marcus.
Marcus: Do you really think I'm gonna let you do this? You're not in your right mind.
Sam: You're not in your right mind. Didn't you see what Poena did to Jack's family? What if he does the same to me?
Marcus: I'm gonna get help...
Sam: NO!
Sam jumps off the sofa as Marcus stands up.
Sam: You don't know what he'll do to me, Marcus! What God will do to me! This is real! You're acting like I'm crazy!
Sam sobs.
Sam: I've done this before. I can handle myself. It's nothing.
Marcus: No one will do it, Sam. You're under duress.
Sam: Don't tell them I've been acting crazy.
Sam closes their eyes, frustrated, then glares at Marcus.
Sam: Stay here. Don't say anything or I'll say you touched me.
Marcus glares back. Sam leaves him alone in the room.
After washing their face, they head over to the front desk.
Receptionist: Oh. Hi, Sam.
Sam: Hi. I need to speak to someone about the Rumble.
Receptionist: Okay. Do you have an appointment?
Sam: No. Can I make one now?
Receptionist: What do you need to speak about?
Sam: It's private.
Receptionist: Well... unless it's important, we usually ask that you fill out a form on the website. Did you try that?
Sam: It is important.
The receptionist narrows her eyes.
Receptionist: They won't just let you in unless I can give them a good reason. Especially at this time of year. Can you tell me what it's about?
Sam: No.
Receptionist: You'll have to use the website then. Sorry, Sam.
Sam: But I need to talk to someone in person.
Receptionist: Sam, there's nothing I can do.
Sam's cold expression turns into a sharp glare. Subtle but hateful.
Sam: Can I speak with someone else?
The receptionist is unfazed. Her expression also sours.
Receptionist: I'm doing everything I can. I want to help you.
Sam: I need to speak to someone. It's private.
Receptionist: ... You can't.
Sam: Is it Poena?
Receptionist: Poena...? Oh... your tag partner?
Sam grinds their teeth.
Sam: I want to quit.
Receptionist: Huh?
Sam: I want to quit XHF.
Receptionist: Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. There's a resignation form on the website. Or do you want a hard copy?
Sam: I need to talk to someone. I might hurt myself.
Sam remains cold, their tone of voice completely unchanged.
Receptionist: Would you like to see a doctor?
Her voice is compassionate in a way, but she obviously doesn't believe them. Not that it would matter if she did.
Sam: Get fucked.
Sam turns their back on her. They survey the lobby, trying to find a map of the building. With no luck, they start walking around. They'll check every single floor if they have to. But they keep being met with signs either restricting access or guiding them back to reception. Then they spot a man in a suit, like Marcus, but older. They rush up to him.
Sam: Hey. Excuse me.
The man halts, caught off guard for a second. He seems mildly annoyed at first, but gives them a smile.
?: Can I help you?
Sam: Hi. I'm Sam Sawyer.
The man squints his eyes, concentrating.
?: Sam Sawyer... I know that name.
Sam: Yes. Sam Sawyer.
Sam has to fight to keep the annoyance out of their voice.
?: You're from... SCCW?
Sam: Tap Out.
?: Tap Out. Of course. Sorry.
He laughs.
?: What can I do for you?
Sam: I want to talk to someone abou-
?: Oh, have you been to reception?
Sam: Yeah. She wouldn't listen.
He grins.
?: Go back to reception. We get this all the time. Sorry, got to run.
He abandons them before they can say another word. All the energy drains from their body as they stand frozen to the spot. Some of the framed photos of XHF's wrestlers and sub companies catch their eye. A chilling, bitter humbleness runs through them and they hate it. This is never going to work. Fame was a large part of the attraction. They're lucky to be in the Rumble at all. They should get out of here.
Sam finds a nearby cafe to sit while they wait for their flight. On their phone, they study their opponents and past Rumble matches, not feeling like it but knowing they should. They haven't enjoyed doing this in a long time. Now it's harder than ever. They can barely concentrate.
They thought the tears were given to them by Him. Then they thought as they flailed and stumbled around, fucking everything up, He was watching, pitying them. But now they doubt He was ever there with them at all. They keep having to wipe the tears from the screen, their heart breaking.
Some time after their tears have dried, they hear a voice from their right.
?: Excuse me, young ma'am?
Sam turns to see an elderly man standing by the table.
?: You couldn't buy me a sandwich, could you?
His tone is a little abrupt, but there's a humor and warmth in his face.
Sam: Sure.
They answer without thinking, then give him a kind smile.
?: Very kind of you, sweetheart.
Sam: What would you like?
?: Pass me that menu.
Sam hands it to him. He stares at it for a long time. Sam is happy to wait, not even realizing the worries have gone from their mind.
?: Sorry, ma'am...
He mumbles, focused intently on the menu.
Sam: Take your time.
?: I can't choose between the peanut butter and jelly and the grilled cheese. I had the roast beef yesterday.
Sam: They do peanut butter and jelly?
?: Yeah. Delicious.
Sam: Maybe I'll have one.
?: I guess I will too.
Sam: You can have both if you want.
?: No, no. I wasn't trying to trick you. A PB and J is fine.
Sam: Have both.
They both share a smile.
?: That's very kind.
Sam: I have a lot of money. It's kinda going to waste, so... I could-
?: No, no, no. Don't do that.
Sam: It's fine. Honestly.
?: You've got your whole life ahead of you. I'd feel terrible. I'm happy with a peanut butter and jelly... and a grilled cheese.
Sam: Okay, yeah, sorry...
They worry they patronized him.
?: Don't be sorry. You're a gem. What's your name?
Sam: Sam.
?: Sam. I'm Archie.
Sam: Can't I just give you enough money to eat for a week?
Archie puts his hand on top of Sam's.
Archie: You're not in trouble or anything, are you?
Sam tries their best to reassure him with a smile.
Sam: No. You'll be fine, won't you?
Archie: Sure I will.
Sam nods, trying to stay cool. They don't want him to worry.
Archie sits with Sam for a minute until a waiter takes his order.
Sam: I better go. I don't want to miss my flight. I'll take care of the check for you.
Archie: Thank you, Sam.
Sam stands up.
Sam: It was nice meeting you, Archie.
Archie: And you, Sam. Have a safe journey.
Sam: Bye.
Sam's smile is gone as soon as they leave the table. They pay the check and leave the cafe. They could easily have stayed longer if they wanted, and eaten with Archie, but their heart couldn't take it any longer.
They didn't realize why they were doing it at first. Or why it felt so good. They thought maybe they were happy again. They felt free. But then they realized they were only seeing Archie as He saw him. He loves Archie. Like He does everyone else, He loves him with all of His heart. He would stop at nothing to see him happy. That's just who He is. Always giving. Never taking.
By doing His work, they felt closer to Him. It gave them a deep, familial sense of belonging, and they felt His love. But even then, He's still so far away.
They know He doesn't love them any less after what they did. However selfish they may become, He will never stop trying to heal them and help them find peace. But they can't accept that. They just can't. They don't want to heal until they are in His arms.