[Sam sees the post and the anons Puck got. He never got anything like that and he was honestly shocked. But now he got it.
He was the privileged white, rich, Bloodline. Of course no one would believe he actually wanted to change who he was. That he didn’t want to just be this person who had killed people. But it wasn’t about him, not entirely. His testimony likely helped make Puck the scapegoat.
There was a part of him that wanted to send a message, apologize, but from what Puck wrote, that was not what he should do. He didn’t know what to say or do.
And it didn’t help that it still sounded like he was explaining it away, that it was a job. It wasn’t a job to kill innocent people. They weren’t monsters.
The monster was the one Sam saw in the mirror everyday. But Puck had it worse. And he felt immense guilt and it felt weird to be so annoyed, to remember being told to feel proud of what he did.
How could he ever be proud of killing innocent people who just wanted to be free?
Sam’s fingers tapped on the keyboard lightly. He wanted to respond, but anything he said could inadvertently sound like it was turning back on him. Although, wasn’t that essentially not speaking up for the injustice Puck was facing?
The right words weren’t coming to him. As usual. Looking back at the list he had made on his computer, he decided to go back to it. The more time he took on it, the less believable it would be that he planned on making things right.
And maybe he would be able to find the right thing to say to Puck later. Hopefully.]