[ sam hasn't really stopped moving for the last - well, if he's honest, couple of months. but it has really been felt these last couple of days. the moment they heard about the group of summoned that had escaped into the mountainside, sam hasn't been able to keep his feet on the ground for very long. the schedule has been pretty repetitive - they head into the thick of the snow, they search out through the trees and caves, along the paths and around the boulders. when they find someone, they have to be all but dragged back through - the shape of the lost anywhere from simply malnourished and exhausted to nearly comatose and needing to be physically lifted and carried back through to nowich. they've saved a few, bodies they've brought back through the portal and handed off to the mages at the inn, and then sam turns and heads back into the thick of things once again and most of sam's attention has come down to his wings, having to use as little magic and energy as possible so that he isn't caught out there without any way to get into the air. and then, moments later, he's back out there. finding more, saving more.
something is getting done, and that's all that sam can focus on. there are people he's still looking for, people that aren't accounted for, but one step at a time is still moving and that's more than they've been doing for weeks.
though, really, he's just glad his feet are already on the ground when natasha reaches out to him. steve's back and sam doesn't even need to respond, though he does. just a quick, scratchy, barely legible I'm on my way. and he is, because it's instinctual at this point - to turn himself back to the portal, to take a running start before kicking up in the air. to all but dive through the magic that gets him back to nocwich and, rolling into a landing, go sprinting off towards the inn.
he's not really thinking, which says more about just how exhausted he is than anything. and he's being selfish, that he knows. he should still be searching, he should still be out there helping find the other lost, but steve is here and steve is okay and sam didn't realize how much he needed to see it for his own eyes until this very moment.
it doesn't settle in, really, that there would be other nurses there. doesn't occur to him that nat would probably be there, or somewhere close. that wanda would be, too. that this would happen somewhere public, that there would be eyes-
it doesn't matter. sam goes sprinting off into the inn, down the halls and around the corner and up to the door. he comes to a near-sliding stop in front of the door before he pushes it open, his chest rising and falling as he steps inside and sees steve - of course sees steve, he's always going to be drawn immediately to him, no matter where he is or what's going on - and then the nurse. the tired nurse. sam breathes for a second, and then another, before- ]
Should I...come back?
[ the nurse is, at least, aware enough of the energy of the room that they are able to shake their heads and pack up their things, muttering a we're at a stopping point, we'll check back in a couple of hours as they file out.
sam, to his credit, is able to keep it together as the nurses leave, nodding in thanks to each of them as they step out. and then he goes ahead and closes the door behind him. in contrast to the basic, full body need of his to move in every moment leading him up to this one, sam suddenly finds himself still. relief floods him, starting from his nearly-shaking legs and filling up into his chest, and it's warm. it feels full. he smiles, because for a moment that's all he can really bring himself to do, seeing steve sitting up - alive, breathing, awake, here. ]
You son of a bitch...
[ he doesn't know when he starts moving, doesn't actually connect the brain to foot, but he also doesn't think he can keep the distance any longer, either. ]
no subject
something is getting done, and that's all that sam can focus on. there are people he's still looking for, people that aren't accounted for, but one step at a time is still moving and that's more than they've been doing for weeks.
though, really, he's just glad his feet are already on the ground when natasha reaches out to him. steve's back and sam doesn't even need to respond, though he does. just a quick, scratchy, barely legible I'm on my way. and he is, because it's instinctual at this point - to turn himself back to the portal, to take a running start before kicking up in the air. to all but dive through the magic that gets him back to nocwich and, rolling into a landing, go sprinting off towards the inn.
he's not really thinking, which says more about just how exhausted he is than anything. and he's being selfish, that he knows. he should still be searching, he should still be out there helping find the other lost, but steve is here and steve is okay and sam didn't realize how much he needed to see it for his own eyes until this very moment.
it doesn't settle in, really, that there would be other nurses there. doesn't occur to him that nat would probably be there, or somewhere close. that wanda would be, too. that this would happen somewhere public, that there would be eyes-
it doesn't matter. sam goes sprinting off into the inn, down the halls and around the corner and up to the door. he comes to a near-sliding stop in front of the door before he pushes it open, his chest rising and falling as he steps inside and sees steve - of course sees steve, he's always going to be drawn immediately to him, no matter where he is or what's going on - and then the nurse. the tired nurse. sam breathes for a second, and then another, before- ]
Should I...come back?
[ the nurse is, at least, aware enough of the energy of the room that they are able to shake their heads and pack up their things, muttering a we're at a stopping point, we'll check back in a couple of hours as they file out.
sam, to his credit, is able to keep it together as the nurses leave, nodding in thanks to each of them as they step out. and then he goes ahead and closes the door behind him. in contrast to the basic, full body need of his to move in every moment leading him up to this one, sam suddenly finds himself still. relief floods him, starting from his nearly-shaking legs and filling up into his chest, and it's warm. it feels full. he smiles, because for a moment that's all he can really bring himself to do, seeing steve sitting up - alive, breathing, awake, here. ]
You son of a bitch...
[ he doesn't know when he starts moving, doesn't actually connect the brain to foot, but he also doesn't think he can keep the distance any longer, either. ]