[ no, he's not wrong, and it's something he's learned to be quite comfortable with. it's not so much that he expects it, necessarily, but he knows when it happens and knows what it means and for now. for what he and geralt have. he can work with it. can work with this.
which is why when he asks, and when he notices that geralt doesn't tense, sam clocks it. not as anything to react to, necessarily, but merely the realization of where they are. what it means.
( briefly, he thinks of bucky. of the difference in conversations when he would tense up, and how calm his own edges had been out in the front yard. he thinks these moments are so dissimilar - realizing when, and how, people will let you in once you prove the space is safe enough. prove to them you are safe enough. )
not really, geralt says, and sam nods. alright then. that's all there is too it, and sam's eyes go to his drink for just a moment - long enough for geralt to continue. and in that continuation, sam listens, feels like maybe he understands a bit more. there is another second or two of silence after geralt stops, if only to make sure he didn't want to say anything further, before sam speaks. ]
Someone else's choices aren't your responsibility. [ which sounds so textbook counseling session that sam has to huff out a breath, shake his head a little, and then look back up across the table to where geralt's sitting. that's not what this conversation is meant to be, and it's not what sam wants for geralt either, which is why he - internally - shifts how he's thinking about it, shifts his tone too - to something more relaxed, something more sam and less sam wilson. ]
I could just tell you that you didn't let her down; hell, you probably know that, yourself. But I don't know if that's going to help. It's not even the issue.
[ sam...knows that he hasn't really talked about it. knows that he's mentioned, vaguely, that he knows what it feels like to miss out on a significant span of years. that it's something he can wrap his head around, no matter how strange of a concept it could be.
now geralt looks a bit like he's trying to take on a burden for himself that isn't even his to carry. it's a familiar enough look, sam's seen it on plenty of other faces, has felt it on his own too. but he can't help but hear what he assumes is more on those last few words. I've let her down. ]
The thing is - when it comes to these kids, these people you would do anything for - they all grow up. [ sam is well aware that ciri isn't a child, far from it, but he still remembers the feeling of hearing that set of feet run up his stairs. of remembering the shape of the girl without a face, of hearing her laugh upstairs with his nephews. he doesn't have kids of his own, so maybe he's totally out of line here, but he continues on anyway. ] You can give them everything they could ever want, and that won't change the fact they're going to have to face the world one day. And the world is going to show them that these protectors who have done everything for them, they're just people. They make mistakes, and they do let you down. It can suck, it can be the worst thing that's ever happened, but it will happen. And they will keep going.
[ sam pauses under the weight of all he could say here - about how he wasn't there, when his father passed away. how angry he'd been at the world. how he'd left, because he couldn't handle it, no matter how good they'd had it. no matter how much better his childhood had been than the countless other people he knows. he'd been so, so angry at the world that hadn't made a place for him, and that anger had driven him away from the one place he needed to have been. with his sister, with his family, anywhere else but fighting wars and monsters.
but he has to keep going. he always has.
he finds himself leaning forward, elbows on his knees. his hand scratches at the back of his head just for that moment, while he lets his own memories, his own wave of guilt, receed again. ]
At the end of it, it doesn't matter who did what or when, or even why. What ends up mattering, most, is being there when they need it. [ he thinks about sarah, about aj and cass. he thinks about the tone of voice sarah had when she said you don't know what happened these last five years. i was alone, with two babies, and i survived. he thinks about the shadows, on steve's face, even when he smiled. he thinks about all the things he could have fixed, all the things he could have saved, if he'd just been there.
but that's not the point, is it? ] And you have been there, for her.
[ his brows lift as he looks to geralt, as if saying try to argue with me. ]
You aren't the one who let her down, here, and she knows that. Hell- this probably isn't the first time Ciri's had to deal with shit like this from Yennefer. [ a small pause, a small smile, as sam takes another drink from the copper mug. sam doesn't even know the woman, doesn't know if he ever will, but he knows that she's a part of this that can't be removed. ]
You did your part, for Ciri. [ a pause, and then sam softens. because for all that geralt might want to make this about ciri, she's not the only one affected. ] But I'm sorry Yennefer let you down.
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which is why when he asks, and when he notices that geralt doesn't tense, sam clocks it. not as anything to react to, necessarily, but merely the realization of where they are. what it means.
( briefly, he thinks of bucky. of the difference in conversations when he would tense up, and how calm his own edges had been out in the front yard. he thinks these moments are so dissimilar - realizing when, and how, people will let you in once you prove the space is safe enough. prove to them you are safe enough. )
not really, geralt says, and sam nods. alright then. that's all there is too it, and sam's eyes go to his drink for just a moment - long enough for geralt to continue. and in that continuation, sam listens, feels like maybe he understands a bit more. there is another second or two of silence after geralt stops, if only to make sure he didn't want to say anything further, before sam speaks. ]
Someone else's choices aren't your responsibility. [ which sounds so textbook counseling session that sam has to huff out a breath, shake his head a little, and then look back up across the table to where geralt's sitting. that's not what this conversation is meant to be, and it's not what sam wants for geralt either, which is why he - internally - shifts how he's thinking about it, shifts his tone too - to something more relaxed, something more sam and less sam wilson. ]
I could just tell you that you didn't let her down; hell, you probably know that, yourself. But I don't know if that's going to help. It's not even the issue.
[ sam...knows that he hasn't really talked about it. knows that he's mentioned, vaguely, that he knows what it feels like to miss out on a significant span of years. that it's something he can wrap his head around, no matter how strange of a concept it could be.
now geralt looks a bit like he's trying to take on a burden for himself that isn't even his to carry. it's a familiar enough look, sam's seen it on plenty of other faces, has felt it on his own too. but he can't help but hear what he assumes is more on those last few words. I've let her down. ]
The thing is - when it comes to these kids, these people you would do anything for - they all grow up. [ sam is well aware that ciri isn't a child, far from it, but he still remembers the feeling of hearing that set of feet run up his stairs. of remembering the shape of the girl without a face, of hearing her laugh upstairs with his nephews. he doesn't have kids of his own, so maybe he's totally out of line here, but he continues on anyway. ] You can give them everything they could ever want, and that won't change the fact they're going to have to face the world one day. And the world is going to show them that these protectors who have done everything for them, they're just people. They make mistakes, and they do let you down. It can suck, it can be the worst thing that's ever happened, but it will happen. And they will keep going.
[ sam pauses under the weight of all he could say here - about how he wasn't there, when his father passed away. how angry he'd been at the world. how he'd left, because he couldn't handle it, no matter how good they'd had it. no matter how much better his childhood had been than the countless other people he knows. he'd been so, so angry at the world that hadn't made a place for him, and that anger had driven him away from the one place he needed to have been. with his sister, with his family, anywhere else but fighting wars and monsters.
but he has to keep going. he always has.
he finds himself leaning forward, elbows on his knees. his hand scratches at the back of his head just for that moment, while he lets his own memories, his own wave of guilt, receed again. ]
At the end of it, it doesn't matter who did what or when, or even why. What ends up mattering, most, is being there when they need it. [ he thinks about sarah, about aj and cass. he thinks about the tone of voice sarah had when she said you don't know what happened these last five years. i was alone, with two babies, and i survived. he thinks about the shadows, on steve's face, even when he smiled. he thinks about all the things he could have fixed, all the things he could have saved, if he'd just been there.
but that's not the point, is it? ] And you have been there, for her.
[ his brows lift as he looks to geralt, as if saying try to argue with me. ]
You aren't the one who let her down, here, and she knows that. Hell- this probably isn't the first time Ciri's had to deal with shit like this from Yennefer. [ a small pause, a small smile, as sam takes another drink from the copper mug. sam doesn't even know the woman, doesn't know if he ever will, but he knows that she's a part of this that can't be removed. ]
You did your part, for Ciri. [ a pause, and then sam softens. because for all that geralt might want to make this about ciri, she's not the only one affected. ] But I'm sorry Yennefer let you down.