“Arthur, you know I love your hair, but the clients will never take you seriously like that.”
“What about yours?”
“I’m the builder, I’m supposed to look like a mad scientist in training.”
Everything’s out of order. First, Brody buys him the pink t-shirt and Sam laughs until Brady dares him to wear it. Sam knows exactly what Brady’s trying to announce and it’s sort of true but sort of isn’t, but the part that isn’t left, didn’t he?
“One hell of a two year bender,” says Sam as he pulls the shirt over his black t-shirt of mourning. Just covering things up. Not changing; not yet. Brody gives him five and a beer and he’s giving Sam a hopeful smile as the doorbell rings.
Then Sam gets drunk enough to ask Jess out on her birthday.
Arthur braces for the shot even as he turns towards the projection. Not again, he thinks before the bullet slams into his forehead.
If Sam’s brother ever makes the mistake of showing up in real life, Arthur’s going to kick Dean’s ass just on principle.
Arthur’s official orders are to ensure Sam’s security. His assignment is to protect a vital government asset: the kid whose dreams feel real. What’s more— if Sam ever tries to run, to sell his talents elsewhere— Arthur’s supposed to be the one who brings him to ground. Arthur’s not supposed to take advantage of the teen-aged civilian in his charge.
He watches Sam pour himself a bowl of cereal the morning after their first fuck and Arthur regrets nothing.