It is after Henry nearly gets Joel and Ellie killed. After the escape into the night time that leaves Joel scrambling in the water to find Ellie before her head slips under, before her lungs fill with icy cold water and their heads smash against rock. Henry and Joel, who form a more than tentative friendship, are walking together far up ahead of the two children, the radio tower way in the distance. Ellie and Sam hang back, taking in the sights and sounds of the abandoned village.
"Ellie!" Joel calls over his shoulder, looking for the teenager, "You keep your eyes peeled, you hear me?"
It's more affectionate than Ellie is used to, so she nods her head and gives him a thumbs up, "Yeah. I hear ya."
The village, which was likely once a bustling township or even maybe a fast paced rural centre, is silent, save for the tweeting of birds in the distance. There are ominous messages scrawled on the sides of abandoned house in paint that is red like blood. They pass a pack of wild dogs, each looking more hungry and ferocious than the next, and Sam's eyes widen. Ellie jabs him in the ribs playfully, and when he jerks back to her side, she grins at him. Sam returns it, but it's weak, and he can feel some sort of strange dread in his stomach.
He keeps his eyes on the dirt road beneath his feet, not allowing himself the simple joy of discovery when Ellie asks about the ice cream truck abandoned on the side of the road. Joel indulges her imagination. Sam kicks a round stone down the dirt path and shoves his hands in his pockets.
Angry, he thinks. He's angry. Angry and scared, which is a dangerous combination for the time and place he's in. And when it all boils down, he knows he's angry over the plastic Transformers toy that Henry wouldn't let him take with him. Sam knows it's stupid to be angry about it, knows it's stupid to feel that way over a piece of plastic he'd probably break anyway, but he can't help but repeat a mantra over and over in his head: It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair.
The fear is just the by-product of the situation, and it's not something that can be helped. Sam sees the radio tower in the distance and he knows they're so close, right on the edge of salvation. And he knows he is not going to make it - even in his young mind, he knows the dead feeling in his stomach will not go away.
"Sam," Henry has to say the name three or four times before his brother really hears it, "Hey, man, you okay?"
Sam wants to say no. He wants to scream out at the top of his lungs that no, he is not okay, he is going to die without knowing adulthood or seeing an ice cream truck or feeling the smooth plastic of a Transformers toy beneath his fingertips. He wants to say that he is thirteen years old, and he should not be feeling the sting of a bite wound on his leg.
But he doesn't. Sam looks up at Henry and forces a smile past tight lips.
"Yeah," he nods, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, "Fine."
He follows Joel and Henry up ahead of him, feeling Ellie's presence at his side again. Sam likes Ellie. She's always happy, always cracking a joke or sassing her way around the big Texan that looks after her, and it brings a smile to his face every time. He knows it's something he'll miss.
They're closer to the radio tower now, just about a mile away. There aren't many houses out this way, mostly empty space and the remnants of park benches. Joel, upfront where he watches the area closely with Henry, imagines it used to be a pretty nice place. But not anymore.
Ellie's falling into place with an ever silent Sam when she starts yelling to Joel and Henry. The two men spin around, obviously alarmed, but Ellie is still grinning, still upbeat. Sam follows her gaze, which leads out into a sliver of empty space just off to their left.
"Look!" She calls, jabbing Sam with an elbow, "It's one of those little park things! You know, that little kids used to play on?"
Sam looks at the collection of rusting steel in the middle of the empty space, and he can feel the synapses firing in his brain. He has never seen one of these in real life before. Like most of the objects of his childhood, these things exist as pictures in magazines, crumpled and flattened on the asphalt, or in words from Henry's mouths, memories he will never ever have.
He feels the excitement spread over him, despite the ever increasing fear he feels in the pit of his stomach. He looks Ellie in the eyes, and for a second he thinks he can almost feel her smile. Sam gives her a smile back, the first one genuine one he has given in almost a day and a half.
Ellie takes off at a run towards the playground, and Joel calls out to her, ever cautious. He moves as if to take a step towards her, then holds out his hand at her.
"Ellie!" Joel's voice is rough in his throat. He gestures for Ellie to join the group again, "Ellie, you can't keep runnin' off like that. Come on back n-"
He is interrupted by Henry's hand on his shoulder. Joel turns and meets his gaze.
"Hey, man," Henry reasons, brown eyes soft as water, "Let her have this. It's been a long day for everyone."
To the surprise of Sam, and most importantly, Ellie, Joel backs down. He lowers his arm, steps back, and watches Ellie from across the lot with Henry. Sam blinks a couple of times, wincing when he feels the bite on his leg throb. When he turns his head, Henry is looking at him, a smile set firmly in his features.
"Hey," Henry mutters, "Go have fun."
Sam doesn't hesitate. He thinks back, back to the Transformers toy and the simple desire he had for it, how badly he wanted to put it in his bag and take it with him. Somehow, Henry letting him play, letting him be a kid, makes up for it. And Sam does not want to die – something he still hasn't come to terms with – with anger in his heart. He runs off to the playground, feeling wind against his skin and sun on his shoulders.
There's not much left in the playground in the way of equipment; the wings are rusted to oblivion and the slide has a hole in it that would prevent even the most nimble child from using it. But what remains, standing the test of time, is the little metal merry go round, it's bars rusted, but the steel base fully intact. Ellie has noticed it, and she's standing on the ground, pushing it, trying to gain momentum. Sam joins her, and together they force the merry go round around its axis. Ellie clambers on when it's going fast enough, hoisting herself up using one of the rusted metal bars. She holds out her had to Sam, but she is spinning around too fast. Sam waits for an opening and jumps on, hands searching for a bar to hold.
It takes them a couple seconds to get their bearings and stabilize themselves. Sam nearly flies off, but grabs a rail just in time. He's laughing, just like Ellie is, their faces broken in the best way imaginable, into smiles. Sam puts his weight against the bar, propping himself up. Ellie does the same.
They are staring at each other, and around them the world is moving faster than they have ever felt it move. Ellie's hair is flapping about behind her, the ponytail waving back and forth. Sam feels the fear again in his stomach, the dead feeling, a reminder of what is going to happen to him in a few short hours.
"You ever been on something like this?" Ellie has to yell to make her voice heard over the wind in their ears.
"No," Sam calls back, forcing the sick feeling back down his throat, "Nothing like this. Ever. You?"
She shakes her head, but it's barely noticeable, "Nah, we didn't anythin' like this back in Boston. When we did, it was always rusted and broken and stuff, y'know?" Sam knows all too well what the world looks like.
They are silent from there on out, only shattering the air with the odd scream of joy, even as they slow down. Ellie looks over Sam's shoulder to Joel, and lifts one hand off the bar to wave at him. When she is not looking, Sam stares at her, the smile on her face, the light in her eyes.
He contemplates, in scattered words dipped in fear, about the 'what ifs', and the pain that is radiating from the bite on his leg. And even though he's scared – absolutely terrified – of what is to come, Sam thinks that this is maybe not such a bad way to spend his last hours after all.
[an] Admittedly it's been quite a long while since I posted something on here but let me be incredibly honest, I sort of fell out of the The Last of Us fandom for a while there, and then there's been college and whatnot so my writing and my fics have sort of been on the back burner. But this is a start, right? I've never written Sam before so I can't promise you that I've done him justice, but nonetheless. I hope to actually work on 51 Things eventually, and I'm real sorry you've all had to wait this long.
Cheers! [an]