—john overheard you arguing with pearson over the food, you didn't like it. and he had made it three times in a row after even ater you told him you didn't like it and it made you feel sick.
—" well I'm sorry, but there's nothing a can do about it. " —pearson spoke.
—john sat on a log and watched you're argument, eating the stew.
—" fine, i guess i'll just starve again! " —you yelled storming off to you're tent.
—john cleared his throat, after the incident and occurred.
—after he finished he walked to your tent with his hands on his belt.
Sam felt frustrated because Pearson was being such an arrogant ass. The blonde doctor would have to make his own food or go and eat some canned goods from now on when Pearson made his shitty stew. His ears perked up when he heard someone approaching his tent. Sam huffed angrily when he saw John outside, his hands resting on his belt. "What do you want?" The moody doctor asked, narrowing his grey eyes.
"I just wanted to have a talk with you." John crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been acting quite bratty lately, and people aren't happy about it." He paused for a moment, looking at Sam sternly. "Maybe you should apologize or find some other ways to get what you want besides being so stubborn."
Sam immediately could feel himself getting even more angry when John dared to talk to him that way. The blonde outlaw stood up and took a few steps closer to the black haired man. "The fuck? I'm not being bratty. I have every fucking right to get angry when everything goes to shit and I have to clear all the mess you guys have made and then I got served shitty food which makes me throw up and I could go on and on about this shit." Sam growled with annoyance and slightly raised his voice at John.
"I can understand you're frustrated," John began, "But that doesn't mean you have the right to be rude about it." He took a step closer to Sam, his gaze unwavering. "And let me tell you something else; we've been through hell together out here, and everyone deserves some respect, even if they don't always deserve your praise."
Sam felt slightly better after hearing John's words but it also made him feel even more frustrated. "Oh shut up. If someone wants me to respect them, they have to earn it." The blonde guy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Sam was always pretty bratty and feisty and John was one of the people who got him mad quickly. Something about the guy just pissed him off. Probably because he was so damn handsome.
Sam snorted indignantly. "What do you mean 'earn it'? You think you don't owe people anything just because you're a big shot doctor now?" John countered, stepping even closer to Sam. His voice was more threatening than before.
"Let me tell you something, Sam: being out here isn't just about survival of the fittest. We're in this together, whether we like it or not. And if you want people to respect you, you need to start showing them some damn respect yourself." He paused for emphasis, his green eyes narrowing. "And if I were you, I'd watch what I say about people making mistakes in the future; there might be someone who doesn't take too kindly to that sort of talk."
The meaning was clear: Sam should watch his back. And John Marston was more than willing to make sure he did.
Sam narrowed his grey eyes and gritted his teeth together when John dared to just keep going and talk shit straight into his face. "I don't really give a shit. If someone has a bigger problem with me then I will just have to beat the shit out of them." The doctor growled before taking a step towards John and grabbing his collar with his hand. "You get it, you damn dirty raccoon?" Sam asked implying that he would punch John if needed.
Tension filled the air as they stood inches apart, glaring into each other's eyes. Despite his smaller frame and seemingly feisty demeanor, there was something in Sam's voice that made it clear he wasn't bluffing. John held Sam's gaze for several long moments before finally speaking.
"You might want to think twice about that," he said quietly, but with enough force to get his point across. "I've been through worse than you could ever throw at me." There was a challenge in those words too; not just the threat of violence, but an invitation to test their mettle against one another. It was clear that this confrontation wasn't going to end any time soon.
What will happen next?
Sam rolled his eyes, slightly amused how indifferent John was by his threatening. The doctor had always been pretty fast to get into fights but this time something in John's demeanor made him more amused than anything. Sam let go of John's shirt and took a step back.
"To be honest, yeah, I know that. I don't think I could ever be worse than a pack of wolves."
He snorted, his gaze lingering over the big scars John had on his face from the wolf attack. Sam had been the one treating his wounds and stitching them up. Not because he liked the black haired guy but because it was just his job. At least that's what he had told everyone but in reality he had been scared to lose this annoying man.
"Well, I guess that's true enough." John nodded, his expression neutral as he rubbed the back of his neck. "But you never know when someone might surprise you," he added, eyes flicking briefly toward Sam's injured hand before returning to meet the other man's gaze.
There was a brief pause, and then John gave a slight shrug. "Look, I don't mean to be such an asshole about all this, alright? We both know it hasn't been easy for any of us." He paused again, considering his words carefully before continuing, "Maybe you should try talking to me next time something goes wrong instead of just storming off. Or..." His voice trailed off suggestively.