awesome_lilly | (no subject)

He starts to answer, then stops, instead looking down at the letter-- which is now crumpled in his hand.

Very deliberately, Sam starts smoothing it out, keeping his eyes on it.

Lilly glances around.

"If- if you want, maybe we could grab a booth or something. I probably owe you a drink, and I definitely owe you the whole story."

It takes a moment, but then Sam looks up from the paper and meets her eyes.

"Yeah. Okay."

An uncomfortable beat.

"Sorry - it's just that --"

"Hey, it's cool."

Lilly shrugs.

"Been there."

And that is why she grabs a bottle of tequila and two shotglasses on the way to the booth.

Sam makes sure to take the side with a better view of the room and the stairs, just in case.

"So."

"So," Lilly echoes, because it's easier than figuring out what the hell she's supposed to say now.

"Jess isn't handling the whole being dead thing very well, is she?"

It's not really a question. But at least it's accompanied by a tequila shot.

"Not really, no."

He takes the other shot glass, turning it around in his fingers.

Lilly pushes the bottle across the table at him.

"And you think it's your fault, right? Or that there's something you can do to make it all okay for her."

"I don't just think it's my fault, Lilly."

Sam looks up and holds her gaze.

"It is my fault."

"Did you physically kill her?"

Lilly's not looking away.

"When I died, there were a lot of people who thought they were responsible, and you know. If some circumstances had been different, if I'd picked a boyfriend with a less murderous dad, if I hadn't provoked him... maybe I wouldn't have died."

She takes a breath, makes sure her voice is steady.

"But the only person who is actually responsible for my death is the fucker who picked up the ashtray and smashed my skull in."

"No, I didn't kill her," Sam says, after a tense silence.

"She was murdered because of me, and she died right in front of me, but I didn't kill her. I just couldn't save her."

A beat.

"And I'm sorry about what happened to you, Lilly. Did they catch the guy?"

"Kinda. He's dead now, so."

Lilly moves on pretty quickly from that topic.

"There's a world of difference between 'couldn't save her' and responsible for her death, Sam. But I know how it can feel like there isn't."

Meg, in the greenhouse. Meg and the schoolbus.

"But even if it's hard to believe, you weren't responsible for her death. And you're not responsible for her afterlife, either."

"You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

"...I know I'm not responsible for her afterlife," Sam says, after a moment.

It's all he's willing to admit.

"But I can't just not at least try to help--"

Lilly sighs.

"Yeah, see. You're pretty much the one person who can't help. The thing- the thing is-"

Wow. It's still not fun to talk about this. Who knew?

"I stuck around, you know, and before I came here- I was a lot like Jess. I wanted my life back, I wanted to be with Duncan and Logan and Veronica. When Logan showed up here..."

She trails off, trying to figure out how to say this so Sam hears it.

He's still frowning slightly, but he's listening.

"Logan-- your boyfriend?"

"Yeah. We broke up a lot, but you know."

Lilly decides that now is the perfect time to pour another tequila shot.

"It doesn't work, holding on to what you were. Not once you're dead. And I had to figure that out, and so does Jess, and then... then she has to make a choice."

She stares at the glass for a minute before downing the shot.

"Lilly..."

Sam looks awkward now, but determined all the same.

"It's not-- I mean, I know that, but -- I can't just abandon her--"

Lilly's expression flickers, and there's a long pause before she replies.

"I'm not saying that, Sam. I wouldn't."

She really, really wouldn't.

"But she's not your girlfriend anymore, she's not even the same Jess. Death- it changes you. You have to have noticed that she's different now. And it's up to her whether that's a good or a bad thing."

He opens his mouth, then closes it again without saying anything.

The awful thing about it is-- she's right. Sam knows she's right. He's known since the beginning, and it's only gotten clearer over time.

"I'm gonna have to let go, won't I?"

"I think we're both gonna have to."

In silence, Sam reaches for the bottle of tequila. He pours a shot, downs it, then sets the glass on the table and looks back at Lilly.

"Sucks all around, doesn't it?"

"God, yes."

Lilly's studying the bottom of her shot glass harder than she ever looked at a textbook. But after another pause, she looks up, lifting her chin.

"But... it doesn't always suck. I've made friends here, even if some of them have left, I've seen other worlds, I've been in a spaceship and watched people do magic and fall in love and get married and, you know. Occasionally serve drinks."

She's smiling now, small but real.

"Maybe it's not life but it doesn't have to suck, either. Jess will figure that out, but- she has to do it on her own."

"Is that what you were trying to tell her? That it doesn't have to suck?"

"Yeah."

Lilly glances at the crumpled letter.

"Kinda not sure how much of it got across, though."

"I don't know."

Sam looks down at the paper, then up at Lilly.

"It's, um. It's a goodbye letter."

Lilly's eyebrows go way up. Not exactly what she was expecting, given how the conversation had gone.

"Maybe she did get it, then."

He doesn't say anything for some time.

"... you really don't think I can do anything to help her, do you."

... oh, that is so not a fair question. But then, to be fair? It wasn't really a question.

"Do I think you can help your dead girlfriend let go of the life you were a huge part of? Well... no. I don't."

Sam nods.

Without meeting her eyes, he picks up Jess's note and shoves it in his jacket pocket.

"I, um." He glances up, finally. "I should probably get back."

Lilly nods. She is not entirely surprised by this.

"Sure. Say hi to Dean for me?"

"Sure."

He slides from his seat and stands up, then turns toward the door... and stops.

"Thanks."

Lilly smiles a little crookedly.

"You're welcome."

She does not add 'Any time.' This is not a conversation she'd want to have again.

That makes two of them.

The front door closes behind Sam with a quiet 'click.'