Work Text:
Sam remembers looking through the motel window that night, at your hunched figure.
You remember crying until you saw him with some other girl in the passenger seat.
You remember the feelings cutting you like glass making you die a little bit inside. Hoping he felt the same pain you were suffering.
Overthinking feelings, without ever talking about them. Sam wondered if you ever came back in touch with reality and that long lost friend from before.
You had. And now you were with him.
You were hanging out at this bar, surrounded by strangers, jack in cokes, speakers blaring that song you and Sam used to make love to.
The bartender told you that last call wasn’t ‘til late and you were having a ball with Hank, Haggard and Jones on the stereo.
You didn’t feel alone at all, no, you felt right at home.
Your motel rooms are always dark, curtains drawn and there’s only your car, not yours and Sam’s.
Your house looks haunted and the neighbors have called looking for you. When they find you, it’s through the blaring of Hank, Haggard and Jones, and the Jack bottles scattered on the floor of the foyer.
The songs continue to play and you take their advice. Not because it helps but because the pain melts away when you do.
You used to have a partner in crime and now all you have to keep you company are your ghosts on the stereo.