So for your one shot of Tara yelling at Sam to talk to her and Sam just ignoring her I’m curious as to what’s going through Sam’s mind at that moment. I just know it’s gotta be devastating for her to keep her composure while Tara’s breaking down.
Ask, and you shall receive.
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“Talk”
Ever since Sam found out who her birth father was, she had a straightforward rule for herself.
Don’t drag Tara into this.
She couldn’t. She refused to. It wasn’t fair.
She could carry this burden on her own. Sam believed that she could. Mostly. Maybe not. But for her baby sister’s sake, she had to do this alone.
She was an architect, drawing out the plans for her escape. Since that night in December, Sam had been pulling away from her sister. She stopped hugging, kissing, and cuddling Tara. Sam didn’t hold her hand to cross the street and certainly didn’t let her baby sister crawl into her bed after she had nightmares. She couldn’t let Tara get any closer to her now. Tara had to learn how to be a big girl and grow up on her own.
It was the most brutal thing Sam had ever done, watching the light and wonder leaving her baby sister’s eyes. It took Tara maybe a month to learn that Sam wouldn’t touch or love her anymore and a whole year to understand that she couldn’t go to Sam anymore for her troubles. She had to figure it out on her own. Sam had thrown Tara out of her room several times for her to get the message. And each time, Sam would bawl silently into her pillows after hearing her little sister’s heart shatter.
But now, three years into this game, Tara seemed to snap. Sam was trying to do her homework, algebraic equations. It was kicking her ass. Just as she was about to call it quits, her sister burst into the room.
“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”
Don’t look up into those big brown eyes. Don’t acknowledge her. Don’t hear her sweet little voice. If Sam looks at her, she will break. Tara can’t see her break. Her baby sister needs to learn to be strong. She has to be. She has to survive Sam leaving her.
“Say something!”
Look down at the notes. Study them. Memorize each number. Don’t acknowledge her anger. She has to learn how to regulate her own emotions. Sam can’t help her now.
“Say something, something like you love me!” Or that you want to talk to me. That you miss me! Something!”.
She could feel her palms sweating. Her heart was breaking, piece by piece, shattering onto the ground. Sam kept writing, ignoring how her pen shook and how Tara was doing the trembling thing she did before she cried.
“Please, Sammy.”
Sam can’t. She can’t give her baby sister what she wants. Tara needs to do this on her own. Sam can’t help her anymore. She can’t taint her baby sister with her ancestry. Sam silently begged her sister to leave. This was too much. She couldn’t handle breaking Tara’s heart again. She wouldn’t survive it.
“Or don’t say anything. Jesus Christ. I thought you loved me. I guess not,”.
Sam wanted to scream. She wanted to tear apart her body and bleed. She was tearing down her baby sister, letting her drown and flail. She couldn’t even throw Tara a life vest. She had to let Tara go. She had to let her go. Let. Go.
A slamming door spooked Sam, making her drop her papers. She could hear her sister crying, loud, wracking sobs. The kind that would send her into an asthma attack.
Sam felt her heart tearing in two, piece by piece.
“I’m sorry, Tara. I can’t love you how you want me to,” Sam whispered, tears flowing down her face.
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That's not Halsin's blood-- fighting in wildshape can get messy
Clover is very catlike and hides physical injuries because it means vulnerability
But after some time I think he was also afraid of being seen as a liability and getting left behind.
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