he makes me ill. the light just immediately leaves his eyes. something about those shots with him so perfectly capture the cold, clinical detachment of early grief and denial. man on a mission. he doesn't care if he's okay (not that he can stop to think about it), only if sam is :))))))
the way he immediately rushes to sam when he's hurt only to linger in the doorway when sam is gone. watchful and dutiful, still, but unable to make it real. two hands clenched to the steering wheel. the way he always starts babbling to sam when he or sam is hurt, always that it's okay. i love him
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