Chapter 27 - Slowly But Surely (Faith POV)

Silence. 

That's what I heard when I touched Samson's hand. I knew for sure that I had heard him when petting him, but maybe I only would hear him when he was in that form, and I was touching his forehead at the other time.

I wasn't sure, but I could indeed rule out holding his hand and hearing him.

But I don't think he knew what a big thing touching was for me, even just holding my hand was a big deal because I didn't use to it at all. After worrying my lip about hearing his thoughts, the next big thing, that I was holding his hand, was the only thing on my mind.

"This is new for me," I whispered. "I mean the doctors have touched me, your mom helped me, so did Patricia but, Dmitri seemed to stop giving me hugs when I was about twelve. So it's been a really long time since someone's just touched me..." the perplexed look on his features cleared and I knew he was thinking about my words. Well... I didn't know, but I could read his face a bit now, and I could tell he was mulling over my words.

"Well then, anytime you want someone to hold your hand, then I will," he declared, and his ears seemed to redden at the tops. He was embarrassed?

"Did you hold hands with Taylor?" the words are out, but I see his eyes widen, and he leans forward, "Well... when I was like five maybe," he replies with a shrug.

"Why do you ask?"

I looked away, "Are you and her mates? Or maybe you and Devin?" Although, I couldn't see why Devin would be with Brennan if she were supposed to be with Samson. That just seems like it would be cruel and hurt Samson.

"The Internet has a wealth of information about us huh?" he joked, but I did not answer, nor did he release my hand.

"We don't have mates, not like werewolves Fatima," he said holding onto my hand and squeezing gently.

"Then why does Taylor act like you're hers?" I ask instead of asking why Devin told me to stay away from him. I didn't want to add to the trouble that I had witnessed with Brennan and Devin. It seemed that he was ignoring her now. But I could tell from the way he looked at her in class when she wasn't looking back, that he really did like her.

"Were you ever hers?" I follow my first question up quickly.

Immediately Samson shakes his head, "Taylor was my friend, I mean when Silas was alive, we three were as thick as thieves together, more so Silas and I, but Taylor was always around with us. Then when he died, it was like she was the one that didn't stop trying to get to me, others gave me so much space that it was hard for them to come back to me, but Taylor never let me drift from her. Not speaking didn't bother her but at the same time, she was always inviting me places, doing things that were different from what we did when Silas was around. Then I changed, and girls started noticing, flirting with me-"

Samson must have known why, though, I'd find it hard to believe that he does not, but I make my observation. "Because they think you're attractive," I finished when he seemed to stop talking, his ears red again, "which is true, your face is very symmetrical, which means many will find you more attractive physically," I explain from an article I remembered reading. "And because you have a symmetrically pleasing face, you'll find someone with equally beautiful features as well..." I tapered off when Samson's smile faded.

Had I gotten it wrong? Before I thought that people were matched together but according to Samson and well everyone in the near vicinity, it was clear that everyone had freedom of choice in selecting their mate.

"Well I want more than just a semi-pretty girl," he muttered looking down at our hands. "So tell me more about werejaguars..." I said lying down, getting comfortable again, sleepily.

"What do you want to know?" Samson followed my lead lying down, resting one hand against his head, the other between us.

I was tired, but there really wasn't much information on werejaguars, and I wanted to know so much I didn't really know where to start, "Anything you want to tell me," I mumbled my eyes open but my lids heavy.

Gazing into my eyes, Samson smiled, "we love the water... you remember where I found you?" I nodded with a small smile of my own.

"That is my favorite spot to be because we can't fly, but you know the two points?" Right over the waterfall. The mist as the water hit the rocks below and the lull in sound that was nothing like the records Dmitri would bring me.

It was beautiful, the small waterfall, the wildflowers and the cave "Yea."

"My favorite thing to do is leaping, it's the closest I can get to flying, feeling the wind hitting me knowing that there is nothing below me, I'm just free for those few seconds," I sigh trying to think of how I feel, and it's really the exact opposite.

And I tell him so, when he questions what I mean, I lick my lips and explain, "There's so much I don't know that I hate that free falling feeling. Like my body is tied to ten helium balloons, and without something grounding me, each piece floats up,"

"You have a house full of people that want to help, that can be the things - the people that ground you... it doesn't just have to be me," Samson whispers softly, but he doesn't understand.

"I don't know how to do what you're saying."

His brows furrow and his blue eyes seem to pierce right through me, "Don't know how, or afraid?"

"You used to have Dmitri grounding you... right?" I did but look at how that turned out. I'm alone now. I'm confused in a world that I don't understand, with visions that don't make sense, voices in my head that bring me so much physical pain when I hear it, that I have to sleep off that ringing in my head.

"Fatima, the world is filled with scary things. You don't have to hide from them, though. Sometimes you have to face them alone, but if you're lucky you find someone that wants to face the darkness with you even if it's just to offer support, hold your hand," he squeezes the hand of mine he's holding again.

Was this his way of saying he wanted to fight the darkness with me? Maybe Samson did not understand what he was signing up for. At a young age, I needed to find Chelsea, but that was hindered by fear of the poisonous air.

Frowning, knowing somewhere inside that I've failed, though I have no idea who I failed. Just the feeling, I shake off that uncomfortable sense. Instead, I attempt to replace it with numbness, but somehow that is hard to do now with Samson around. "I know there isn't much I can say about Dmitri, but I lost Silas, and you want to know what?"

"What?" my voice shook. "I hid from the world when Silas died, but now... since you've come here, knowing you have no impression of him, that you don't know him, that makes it easier to talk about him, how much I miss him, but now... I also know something else," his eyes closed as though in pain.

Strangely I could almost feel the pain radiating off of Samson, not knowing what I was feeling until I settled and stopped fighting it. Stop trying to put a name to the emotion, just becoming the sadness and then it registers in my mind. Deep in my soul. I am familiar with what he feels. How was he sharing his inner turmoil with me? I think, or was I able to distinguish his grief because of my own? "Silas would be so angry with me, that I pushed everyone away, he knew it was hard for me to make friends, but he'd be furious that I pushed even the family away, but I couldn't - I didn't realize that until recently."

"I'm sad that you lost Dmitri, and that you're confused and feeling groundless, but I'm happy that you came here, to the school, and to us." His tone so full, reverent I could only nod my head.

"Do you miss Dmitri?" he asked me, the words whispered, but I felt them with ripples like disturbed calm waters. Nova hadn't asked me that, no one really had, but Samson had a way of asking whatever was on his mind, not holding back, making me question what I was putting away.

Like now, but that wasn't all Samson was doing, I had his full attention, which I doubt he knew, but that was something I wasn't accustomed too. Yet it is his attention that makes me feel as I do now, "I used to miss Dmitri when he would leave when I was alone but I got so accustomed to him being gone."

And this was the part that really made me feel like I was in some way wrong, "I'm not sure what I miss more, the house I lived in, or Dmitri. I know it's just an object but it's all I've ever known," he nodded, no judging. Taking that as a sign to continue, I do just that. I talk and talk until I'm sure that I somehow spoke about nothing. About the skies when I lived in the safe house, to how different they are here.

Though, I keep away from many topics, just not yet comfortable to speak of them, until I fall asleep.

***

***

Thanksgiving.

"Did you celebrate it when you lived alone?" I lift a brow at Samsons' question; though he's driving, he gives me a side-glance. Does he really think this is a valid question? I was alone most of the time, we didn't - Dmitri and me - we didn't do things like he is explaining.

He places his hand palm up, between us, an invitation, he offers more frequently now, and I'm only too eager to take it, enjoying his warmth, the touch, the connection. But I don't understand, I'm the one getting something from him offering his touch but when I do accept, Samson... his face radiates triumph.

Unfortunately, when he places his car in park in the school parking lot, I have to release his hand, but after our long talk on the weekend as we walk side by side entering the building a bit earlier, students around, he takes my hand once again and together we move into the building.

I'm a bit startled, unsure what it means, but I accept the connection.

"Do you need anything from your locker?" he stops at his first since it's closer when he starts to turn his combination lock I look away giving him privacy, "I don't mind if you know it," he says again with that gloriously – pleased look on his face.

Nodding I say nothing more. Just waiting for him to finish trade out his books, before going to class. When he sighs loudly that his seat is in front of me, while I sit next to Thaddeus, I see the chance to tease him. "It was my meal the first day that convinced him to come sit next to me," but Samson doesn't laugh.

In place of a hearty laugh, he turns to face me, eyes open and honest, he leans forward. "If I knew that I would be meeting you, that you'd be who you are to me now, I wouldn't have skipped helping Fatima. I would've sucked up all my dread and sadness from that day and the ones leading up to the anniversary of Silas' death, and I wouldn't behave better towards you," his face morphs into solemnness. I can only swallow as he turns back around and I have to stare at his lovely brownish, blonde locks.

'Who you are to me now?' What does that even mean? I began racking my brain unsure but searching for any clues but my answer doesn't come from our time together, but more from the two girls who entered the room, giggling and holding hands.

When they went to sit down, they released each other, one sitting up front, while the other was next to this boy who she kissed chastely before sitting down in her seat.

Keeping my head down. Silently, I proceed to put the pieces together and when Thaddeus sat next to me, and the teacher called attention, I knew and understood that Samson was friendly.

He wanted to be my friend.

Proud of myself for figuring out his intentions - or my opinion and evaluation of his behavior - I looked up towards the front happily, with a small, secretive smile on my face. I had been going to see Nova for nearly a month now, working on various things, my aversion to fire, dealing with my past, as well as more recently facial emotion cards. Because I had only interacted with Dmitri, it was hard for me to read facial cues, so I often missed many things.

Without the guy next to him, when it was time work with our group member Samson had to turn his chair around to work with Thaddeus and I. The teacher occupied with other students, I took the chance to make sure I had deduced correctly, "Samson, are we friends?" Thaddeus next to me, snorted quietly, his body began shaking, but he didn't make another sound.

Keeping my eyes trained on Samson I waited for his response, but then something I hadn't thought of hit me, turning my stomach.

What if he didn't want to be my friend? Or we weren't really friends to begin with? I couldn't stop the thoughts that ran rampant in my mind after I asked the question. Although I did realize that it would hurt if he were to say that we weren't friends.

Quickly, he glanced at Thaddeus, in almost a glare, before focusing back on me, "Can I be honest?" he whispered.

No longer confident in my assumption, I can only give him one definitive nod to continue, while I await his response.

"Yes, I'd like to think we were - are - friends but, if I had my way, I would like to be more than just your friend Fatima."

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