Title: No Regrets

| No Regrets | Shared Pain | Cries in the Dark | Tunnel Vision | Building Blocks | Dark Corners |
| Understanding Light | Baby Steps | Interlude |

Author: Aeryn Sun

Email: willowrose_98@yahoo.com

Feedback: Yes, please

Archiving: Ask, and ye shall receive.  Just ask first.

Rating: R for rough language and a certain expected level of angst. 

Spoilers: Um, any episode especially the last one.

Series/Universe: None

Summary: Brooke reflects on decisions made.

Couple: Sam/Brooke

Warning: If the idea of two women involved in a romantic relationship together disturbs you, run, run far far away and never look back.  If it's illegal where you live, move quickly.  If you're under the legal age, age quicker, it's fun here.  Other than that, enter at your own risk, and enjoy.

Author's Notes: Eh, don't know what came over me or if there will be more.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Never were.  Not making any $$.  Don't HAVE any $$.  Don't sue.  All you'll get is my Pink Panther t-shirt and my Spider-Man boxers.  And they're both already used.

No Regrets

The soft muffled cry of pain woke her like a gunshot next to her ear.  Brooke bolted upright in her chair, instantly ready to do whatever she had to in order to help the person suffering.  She looked over at the prone figure on the bed for any sign of distress and then sighed.  Like it was every time she checked, Sam hadn't moved.  She still lay there, swathed in bandages, unresponsive like she had since the night of the Junior Prom.  The night Nicole had hit her with her car.

Unbidden, the memories from that night came flooding back to her like an incoming tide.

<<Upset and frightened by things, events and emotions she didn't understand, Brooke had run out of the building blindly.  She'd felt Sam grasp her hand briefly as she fled.  The next thing she truly remembered was the feeling of being shoved forcefully to the ground as Sam pushed her out of the way of the speeding Jaguar. 

She'd looked up from her vantage point on the asphalt at the sound of squealing tires and the sickening crunch as Sam impacted with the front bumper of the car.  She watched unable to tear her eyes away as Sam slammed into the hood of the car, letting out a cry of pain that was more of a rush of air as she did so.  As Brooke watched, Sam's then limp body slid up the hood into the windshield, shattering it upon impact.  Sam then tumbled to the cold hard tar herself, level with Brooke only a few feet away as the car drove out of control into a fire hydrant further down the road.

Brooke had scrambled over to the unmoving form of her former enemy and now best friend and... something more?  Sam was lying still in a heap partially on her side, a raspy wheezing sound coming from her.  It was the only way that Brooke knew that she was still alive.

"Oh my God," Brooke cried upon seeing Sam.  There was blood everywhere and Brooke was scared to death. "Sam...Sammy, can you hear me?"  At first, there was no response from her rescuer and Brooke was afraid that she'd slipped away.  But then, Sam's chocolate eyes fluttered a few times and finally focused on the blonde beside her.

"Br...Brooke?" she gasped.  Before Brooke's horrified eyes, a trickle of blood began to run from Sam's mouth in a steady stream.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Brooke soothed trying to control her tears.  She didn't want to scare Sam with her own panic.

"You OK?" Sam asked, forever concerned about someone else.  Brooke managed to smile slightly despite the gravity of the situation.

"Yes, Sammy, thanks to you.  You hold on, you're going to be fine," she knew she was probably lying but she had to say it anyway.  Sam's eyes drifted shut and Brooke knew she was too weak to open them again.

"OK," Sam said softly. 

"Thank you, Sam.  You saved my life," Brooke pointed out, trying to keep Sam awake and aware.  She watched a small smirk cross Sam's face.

"You owe me," Sam said with a slight laugh that evolved into a cough.  She then fell silent, softly breathing against Brooke's skin.

"I know.  I owe you everything," Brooke whispered to the silent girl.  She kissed Sam on the top of the head.  They stayed like that in the middle of the road with Brooke cradling Sam's injured form until the paramedics arrived.  That was two months ago.  And Sam hadn't regained consciousness since.>>

Another sob of pain broke Brooke from her morbid memories and she again checked on Sam.  Sometimes even in her unconscious state, Sam moaned and cried out in pain.  Her injuries were so severe that the doctors were keeping her in a medication-induced state of unconsciousness to aid in her healing.  But it wasn't enough to mask the pain she was in.  And every whimper and silent tear that slipped down the inanimate girl's face tore a piece of Brooke's soul apart.

A few tears now slipped down Sam's face as she fought whatever pain or torment was haunting her dream state and her shoulders shook slightly.  Brooke stroked the brunette's hair gently, speaking softly into her ear as she rested her head next to Sam's.

"It's OK, Sammy," she soothed.  "Nothing can hurt you now.  Just rest and come back to me.  Please?" She wasn't at all ashamed to be begging at this point.  The McQueen/McPherson household was strained to its limit with Sam laying in the hospice, numb to the world.  But more than that, Brooke felt this NEED for Sam that she couldn't quite explain.  And she was lost without her.

"Shhh, Sammy, I'm right here," she assured Sam as the girl whimpered again.  Her voice always seemed to have a calming effect on Sam when she got in a bad way and the doctors encouraged Brooke to talk to her.  Eventually, they reassured the family, they'd slowly ease Sam back into consciousness when her body was better healed.  But they could make no such promises about what her state of mind would be.  She'd taken a hard hit to the head and a blood clot had formed that the doctors had had to operate to remove.  They didn't think there was brain damage, but wouldn't be sure until she woke up.

"Aw, Sammy, you need to get better and come back because we really need to talk," Brooke sighed.  She seemed to stare into space for a while, gathering her thoughts and sorting through her memories.  She then looked back to Sam's slack face.

"I don't regret it, Sam.  Not a second of it," she whispered softly, lovingly.  She leaned up and kissed the side of Sam's mouth. "I hope you don't."

Again, her mind drifted to another, happier time.

<<She was lying in her bed, trying to fall asleep the night before the Prom.  But she couldn't.  She was nervous about her `date' with Harrison and Sam.  Harrison was going to give his final decision on who it was between the two girls that he truly wanted and Brooke was dreading the announcement. 

She raised her head slightly when she heard the door to her room creak open.  The faint light from one of the bathroom lamps silhouetted Sam's figure, as she stood anxiously framed by the door.

"Sam?" Brooke called quietly confused.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Sam whispered hastily. "Go back to sleep, I'll leave." She spun on her heel to retreat when Brooke's voice stopped her.

"Wait, Sam!  I was awake.  What is it?" Sam turned around and Brooke could just barely see in the light that she was biting her bottom lip in nervousness.  It was a cute trait she'd noticed a long time ago about Sam.  And then she berated herself for that thought.

"Come here, sit on the bed and tell me what's on your mind that has you sneaking into my room at a quarter to three in the morning," she tried to joke but it came out sounding far too serious.  Sam haltingly walked over and sat down, holding her body stiff and rigid.

"Relax, Sam, I don't bite." This won her a nervous high-pitched laugh.

"That's disappointing to know," Sam joked and blushed scarlet in the faint light. "Er.sorry," she mumbled afterward.  Brooke smiled.

"It's OK," she waved the comment off, ignoring the way her heart fluttered.  "So, what's up?"

"It's...it's about Harrison and tonight." Sam started and stopped.  Brooke flopped back onto her back and let out a huge sigh.

"God, Sam, I don't feel like arguing with you over this.  Especially not right now," she confessed. "This is SO stupid.  We're 17 years old and acting like we're 5 and on the school play ground.  Can't we just grow up and ask each other what we want?  I mean, Sam, honestly, do you WANT Harrison?  Because if you do, you know what?  It's not worth this petty shit for me to keep fighting you for him.  It's just a tiring waste of time." Sam was quiet for too long without answering so Brooke figured she'd pissed the brunette off.

"You DO want him, don't you?" she asked angrily. "And it pisses you off that he MIGHT want me.  God, Sam, this is so stupid.  I mean."

"I don't want Harrison," Sam interrupted her quietly, staring at her hands.  Brooke stopped and stared at her for a minute.  When she didn't continue, Brooke prompted her.

"Then what do you want, Sam?  Do you want Harrison to chose me and get this over with or do you want him to chose you so that you can finally get one up on me?" Sam bit her lip again.

"I want...I want...Shit, Brooke, I thought it was obvious," she sighed, running a frustrated hand through her already disheveled hair.  Brooke frowned.

"What's obvious, Sam?" she wondered, sitting up to face Sam as Sam twisted to look the blonde in the face.  Sam's brown eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as she looked at Brooke in the dark.  The pain there surprised the cheerleader.

"That what I want...have wanted for so long...is you," Sam whispered so softly it was almost lost under the sound of their breathing.  Brooke couldn't stop the gasp that slipped past her lips as tears fell down Sam's face and splashed onto the bedspread.

"I'm sorry," Sam croaked. "I shouldn't have said anything.  I'll go." she stood up to flee back to the safety of her own room but Brooke's warm hand firmly grasping her own prevented her from succeeding.  She tugged Sam back down onto the bed.

"You...you want me?" Brooke asked shocked.  Sam bent her head and nodded, small sobs rocking her frame as she fought to control them.  "But I thought...and Harrison...and...Wow, Sam," she finally managed.

"You're disgusted with me," Sam hiccuped bitterly. Brooke shook her head and took Sam's chin in her hand, tilting her face up.

"Not at all, Sammy.  I'm flattered.  And relieved," she confessed.  Sam arched one eyebrow in confusion.

"Relieved?  Why?  So you can have Harrison?" she asked suspiciously.  Brooke smirked.

"No, not at all.  I don't want him either.  I'm relieved that my feelings aren't one-sided," she said simply before pressing her lips to Sam's.  They lost themselves in the feel for several long minutes.

"So does this mean, what I think it means?" Sam panted when they broke apart.  Brooke nodded.

"Yes, Sam.  I want you too.  I care for you more than you know.  And if you wouldn't mind, I'd really like for you to spend the night with me," Brooke said huskily.>>

Brooke smiled remembering that Sam did indeed stay and the night passed far too quickly for both of them.  And they swore to keep it to themselves for now and let Harrison down easy at the Prom.  But sitting there at the table with them both caused everything to cave in on Brooke and she panicked.  And ran.  And hated herself for it every second since because Sam had suffered for her cowardice.

She reached out and stroked Sam's still bruised cheek with her fingertips.

"But I don't regret a second," she repeated.  And she meant it.

Shared Pain

She hated seeing Sam this way; so fragile and vulnerable; so dependent on others to help her.  Brooke knew Sam would hate to be seen in her condition as well, being as stubborn and strong-willed as the girl normally was.  But sadly, Sam was unaware of her present condition and situation, still unconscious as she was.  Still under more medications than Brooke knew ever existed as they waited for the brunette’s brutally broken body to try and heal itself.

She lightly traced her fingers over Sam’s healed nose, relieved to see it back to its normal color.

“You looked silly with two black eyes, Sammy,” she whispered jokingly.  Truthfully the young girl looked terrible with the broken nose and associated black eyes.  They’d swelled up and although Sam was unconscious, Brooke would have liked it if she’d been able to see more of Sam’s eyes at the time.  Now all that remained of that injury was some slight bruising that was fading quickly.

Her fingers moved down to track over Sam’s full lips.

“You have the softest lips of anyone I know,” Brooke continued, concentrating on Sam’s features.  She’d come so close to losing the other girl that she was determined to memorize everything about her while she could.  Sam was calm for the moment, not whimpering in fear or crying at some unknown pain.  Again, Brooke wished that the doctors would decide that Sam was healthy enough to bring back around.  She desperately needed to hear the acerbic wit Sam was known for.  And the girl’s gentle laugh that just seemed to roll over her like warm waves.

“Where have you gone, my Sammy?” she asked rhetorically.  She often wondered where Sam was, mentally.  Was she anywhere at all or trapped in that one horrific moment?  Brooke worried about that.

“Come back to me, Sam,” she begged quietly. “I need you.  It’s lonely out here without you.”

“Brooke?” Brooke jumped out of fright, at first thinking that Sam had spoken her name.  Movement in the doorway caught her eye and she looked over to see Lily standing uncertainly in the arch. “Can I come in?” A nod granted entry and the petite Latina joined Brooke in her sentry duty beside Sam’s bed.

“How is she?” Lily asked quietly while looking at the prone body of her best friend.  It killed her to see the normally vivacious Sam so still and silent.  It just seemed wrong and unnatural to her.  Brooke sighed.

“Better, but not good,” the blonde said softly.  It seemed that some of the life had drained out of Brooke as well.  She no longer spoke with the same energy she once did, almost like she was afraid that too loud a voice might disturb Sam’s rest.

“Some of the wires are gone,” Lily observed trying to keep a somewhat detached tone.  Her heart twisted with the memory of all the wires and tubes that once led from Sam’s body to various machines.

“Yeah,” Brooke nodded. “She can breathe now.  Her lungs are stronger.  And they took away the drain from her head.” Brooke reached out and ruffled Sam’s new shorter hair.

“She’s going to hate that haircut,” Lily said light-heartedly.  She saw a ghost of a smile cross Brooke’s face.

“I know.  It’ll grow back, Sammy,” she assured the other brunette.  Lily watched Brooke treat Sam with the utmost love and care.  She had been watching the blonde do so since the accident.  There was something between the would-be stepsisters, Lily could see that.  And in Lily’s opinion, they belonged together.  She only hoped that Brooke didn’t lose Sam before it worked itself out.

“She looks a little thin,” Lily said more to herself than Brooke.  Brooke looked at her for a second and then back at Sam.

“She’s eating liquids through a tube, Lily.  If you can call it ‘eating’ at all.  She can’t exactly enjoy a steak dinner right now,” she said shortly.

“I know.  I’m sorry,” Lily apologized just to appease the blonde.  They were quiet for a while before Lily spoke again.

“Brooke, I need to talk to you,” she said gently.  Brooke turned her attention to her. “I need to tell you something.  I wanted you to hear it from a friend and not on the news or in the paper.” Brooke frowned.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s about Nicole…” Lily started.  The expression on Brooke’s face turned cold, hard and mean.

“We don’t discuss her, especially in front of Sammy,” she informed Lily angrily.  Lily sighed.

“I know, Brooke, but, it’s about the night of the accident.  Her hearing was today and you didn’t show.  It’s going to be all over the news.”

As luck would have it, Nicole suffered nothing but a severe hangover and an arrest the night she ran down Sam.  Many a night Brooke rallied against the unfairness of it.  Here lay Sam, the innocent in all this, dead to the world in her hospital bed, no one knowing what her condition would be once the doctors brought her around again.  And then there was Nicole, the orchestrater of the nightmare, sitting pretty at home out on bond while a team of expensive lawyers lobbied in her defense. 

“Fine, what is it?” Brooke snapped.  Lily flinched at the anger in Brooke’s voice.  No one mentioned Nicole to her, not wanting to upset Brooke or bring the lanky cheerleader’s wrath down upon themselves.

“She got off,” Lily whispered.  Brooke leapt from her chair, knocking it back a few paces as she lunged to her feet.

“SHE WHAT?” she bellowed.  Lily swallowed and forged ahead with the explanation.

“She got away with it.  There’s no proof that she was drinking that night.  Either they never did a blood alcohol test on her or the results were conveniently lost.  There was no evidence to prove that she’d had a sip of anything.  Her lawyers argued that you and Sam ran out in front of her car and that she swerved to avoid you.  That’s why she hit the sidewalk.  She got a ticket for driving too fast that night, paid it off and she’s free.”

“God damn it!  I knew she’d pull something like this,” Brooke seethed.  “Her and her freaking family money.  They probably paid everyone off to keep her out of trouble.  And now what?  She goes free, never pays for what she did and we have to sit here and watch Sam waste away in the hospital, hoping and praying that she pulls out of it?  It’s NOT FAIR!"

Sam let out a whimper and her heart monitor increased in rhythm. 

“Brooke, I know it’s not fair but it’s the way it worked out.  There’s nothing we can do now except help Sam come through this,” Lily tried to calm Brooke down as she paced restlessly.

“DAMN IT!” Brooke screamed making Lily jump at the outburst.  Sam cried out again and twitched on the bed.

“I swear to God, Lily, I’m going to make her pay for this,” Brooke growled.  Lily had never seen such anger or rage on Brooke’s kind face before.  It scared her. 

“Brooke…”

“No, Lily.  If it’s the last thing I do, Nicole will know what this sort of pain is like.” Brooke was literally trembling with rage.  She was going to say more on her anti-Nicole rant but a gasp and cry from Sam drew her attention.

“Sammy?” She darted over to Sam’s side to see Sam silently crying, panting and her heart monitor beeping at an alarming rate. “Shit, what’s wrong?” Brooke started to panic.  Lily sized the situation up immediately.

“Brooke, she can sense your distress and it’s upsetting her,” Lily explained calmly. “You have to calm down.” Brooke took a few deep breaths and picked up Sam’s hand in her own.

“Shhh, Sammy, I’m right here.  It’s OK, calm down,” she soothed. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you, I just got mad.”

It didn’t seem to help as Sam’s cries grew more agitated and she arched off the bed.

“Jesus,” Brooke swore. “Lily, help me hold her still so she doesn’t hurt herself.”

“Brooke, I…” Lily hedged, scared that she might hurt Sam.

“Damn it, Lily!  Hold down her other arm so she doesn’t yank out any wires.  If she doesn’t calm down soon the nurses will be in here to sedate her again.  I don’t want them plugging her with anymore medication than absolutely necessary so HELP ME!”

Lily did as she was told and carefully held on to Sam’s arm as the unconscious girl weakly fought against her.  Brooke whispered gently into Sam’s ear.

“Sammy…Sammy, love, you have to calm down.  If you don’t then the doctors will give you more shots and you might not hear me talking for a while.  You don’t want that, do you?  I don’t,” she said softly.  Sam let out a low wail. “Shhh, I know you’re scared.  So am I.  But I’m here with you and Lily’s visiting right now.  So neither of us is alone.  And nothing can hurt you here, Sammy.  You’re safe.”

Slowly, Lily felt Sam’s struggles begin to cease although the girl still trembled.  She and Brooke released Sam and sat back down.  The Latina watched as Brooke lovingly wiped Sam’s fallen tears away with her fingertips.

“That’s my girl,” Brooke whispered as Sam relaxed a little more.  Lily stood up to go.

“Brooke, I only came to tell you about the verdict,” she explained as Brooke only turned a portion of her attention to her. “I’m going to leave you with Sam.  I know she’s in good hands with you.  You’re taking great care of her.  Call me if you need anything.  Anything at all, OK?” Brooke nodded.

“OK.”

“Oh, and Brooke?” Lily called from the doorway.  Brooke looked up at her and Lily gave her a half smile. “I hope she comes back to you soon.”

Cries in the Dark

"Mom stopped by this morning.  She says that you look better," Brooke spoke quietly to her silent companion.  "It's hard for her to see you like this, Sammy.  Don't hold it against her.  She's doing the best she can but, her marriage to my Dad is kinda strained right now." Brooke sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

She hated hearing her parents fight.  But Jane was still angry that Mike hadn't done more to stop Nicole from driving away that night.  She needed someone to blame for her daughter's condition and Mike was the most convenient target.  And for his part, Mike wasn't going to sit idly by and take the blame.  He fought back every time Jane verbally attacked him.  Now the Palace, once amiable as it basked in the warmth of new love, was cold and dark as the couple fought.

"I don't know if they're going to be able to come through this, Sammy," she lamented.  She stroked Sam's furrowed brow.

"It's not your fault though, Sam.  It's Nicole's," she growled the name of her former best friend. "I swear to you that I will make her pay for this." Her vow fell on deaf ears as Sam didn't respond.  Brooke sighed again.

"It should be me, Sammy," she whispered. "I should be lying there hurt or even dead.  Not you.  Not my sweet Sammy." Guilt washed over the blonde in suppressive waves, choking off her air and nearly suffocating her.  The pain in her chest caused by her grief was visceral, tangible and made her sick to her stomach.  Hot tears slipped down her face, burning tracks across her cheeks and staining Sam's bed sheets.

"Come back to me, Sammy...please," she begged desperately.  The sound of the door opening startled Brooke and made her jump.  Dr. Stevens, Sam's main doctor, gave Brooke a sad smile as he entered the room.  He checked Sam's charts and monitors before turning his attention to the blonde sentinel.

"How is she today, Brooke?" he asked.  He knew that Brooke was a better indicator of Sam's condition than any chart or monitor was.  The girl seemed to have an intuitive sixth sense about how Sam was feeling.  Brooke's shoulders slumped.

"Quiet, for now," she answered softly. She traced Sam's eyebrows with the pads of her fingertips. "Something's bothering her though.  She's not really resting." Dr. Steven's nodded.

"We've lightened up some of her meds.  She may be feeling more pain and becoming somewhat more aware of her surroundings," he explained.  Brooke's eyes lit up somewhat.

"Are you going to bring her around soon?" she asked hopefully.  Dr. Stevens sighed and frowned at Brooke before pulling a chair over so that he could sit and talk to the young girl, face to face.

"Brooke, you understand the scope of her injuries, don't you?" At the solemn nod, he continued. "OK, well, let's review some of them anyway.  Her pelvis was shattered in the accident.  It took a lot of pins and plates to put it back together.  She had a compression fracture of two vertebrae in her back, also requiring metal rods and pins to hold in place to heal."

"I know all this," Brooke snapped.  Dr. Stevens nodded.

"I know you do, Brooke.  But knowing on paper what someone's injuries are does nothing to help you comprehend the amount of pain and agony those injuries cause them." Brooke swallowed hard, finding it difficult to do so past the large lump of nausea that had settled in her throat.

"We are bringing her around slowly, Brooke," he continued. "But it's going to take a while.  She won't just open her eyes and start talking normally like they always show you in the movies or on TV.  It'll be a gradual process, a little each day.  You have to be patient and let Sam come around in her own time.  It's not going to be easy for her.  She's still in pain.  The bulk of her minor injuries may be healed but there are other, deeper wounds that are still fresh."

"What about...what about the blood clot?" Brooke asked, barely above a whisper.  It weighed heavy on her mind, the head injury that Sam had suffered.  Brooke often wondered about things like whether or not Sam would remember anything or suffer from amnesia.  Would Sam be brain damaged and need special help?  All different scenarios had played out in her mind in the time since the accident.

Dr. Stevens shrugged.

"Until she's awake and coherent, we really won't know for sure, Brooke," he told her honestly. "But our tests so far show that there isn't any obvious brain damage.  Hold to that.  Stay positive."

"I'll try," she said sadly.  Dr. Stevens gave her a pat on the shoulder as he stood up.

"You're taking great care of her, Brooke.  I have no doubt that you're the reason why she's holding on so tightly.  She will come back to you.  You just have to believe." Brooke nodded and let the doctor leave the room.  She turned back to the prone and still silent form on the bed.

"Hear that, Sammy?  You're coming back to me," she whispered lovingly. "Don't make a liar out of him."

**

Hazel eyes watched intently as slightly cloudy brown eyes flickered open again, not staying exposed long but long enough for Brooke to peer in.  For nearly three months she waited patiently for a sign of life from Sam and now those beautiful brown eyes were finally alive again, if only for fleeting moments.  She stroked at Sam's warm cheek, the bruises all but faded now and tried to coax her further into consciousness.

"Wakey wakey, Sammy, love," she whispered into Sam's ear. "You've slept long enough.  Time to open your eyes and see what's going on around you."

Again, long lashes fluttered open and for the first time in the two weeks since the incidents began, Sam's eyes stayed open.  Brooke felt her heart leap to her throat.

"Sammy?" she called quietly.  She watched as Sam's eyes seemed to roam over their surroundings but settled on nothing.  Slowly, Sam frowned and her eyes closed as she whimpered.

"Shhh, Sammy, I'm right here," she cooed trying to soothe Sam's sudden alarm.  Sam's body tensed on the bed for a moment and she seemed to panic.

"Sam, Sam calm down," Brooke comforted, caressing Sam's cheek again. "Listen to my voice, don't panic.  It's OK, just listen to my voice." She felt Sam lean into her touch and her heart soared.  A few tears escaped past Sam's closed lids into Brooke's palm.

"Why are you upset, Sammy?  Do you hurt?  Should I get the doctor?" Brooke was beside herself with worry.  But soon after, Sam seemed to relax again and her eyes opened once more.  They stared at the ceiling, blinking occasionally but never moved towards Brooke.

"There's my Sammy," Brooke smiled. "I've missed looking into your eyes.  And now I know you're coming back to me."

A little while later, Brooke called Jane and Mike to tell them that Sam's eyes were open but that she still seemed unaware of her direct surroundings.  Both parents were ecstatic to hear about the progress and were on their way to see for themselves.  She then called Lily and told her, asking the excited and relieved Latina to please pass the news on to their friends.  She hung up the phone and turned back to Sam who was still lying silent on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Baby steps, Sammy," Brooke encouraged.  She hit the buzzer above Sam's head to notify the nurses and then sat back down. "First, open your eyes and come back to yourself.  Then come back to me."

"Hey, Brooke, you hit the buzzer?" Nurse Angela Cox asked as she entered the room.  She approached the bed and noticed immediately the change in Sam's condition. "Well, hello there, Sam.  Coming around, are you?" She checked Sam's vitals while Brooke watched intently, looking for any sign of news from the nurse.  Sam blinked but didn't seem to really register Angela's presence.

"Well?" Brooke asked anxiously. "This is good, right?" Angela spared her a small smile.

"Any progress towards consciousness is good, Brooke," she assured the worried blonde.  The young girls devotion to the injured brunette was nothing short of inspiring.  Day in and day out, Brooke had been by Sam's side waiting for the day when the hurt girl would wake up, never knowing when or even if that day would arrive.  Even when the nurses had their doubts, Brooke never lost faith.

"I guess," Brooke agreed. "Our parents are on the way over.  I hope I didn't raise their hopes for nothing."

"I'm sure you didn't," Angela said as she shined her penlight into Sam's eyes.  "Hmmm."

"What?" Brooke asked suddenly worried.  Angela smiled at her.

"Relax, Brooke, before you worry yourself into a stroke at 17," she joked. "It's nothing.  I'm going to call Dr. Stevens and tell him that Sam's waking up.  He'll want to take a look at her as soon as possible."

"All right." Brooke grasped Sam's limp hand tightly in her own.  Angela left the room again, leaving Brooke alone.  She watched Sam's face, devoid as it was of expression as the brunette kept staring blankly at the ceiling.  She knew Sam could hear her but she wanted Sam to SEE her.  So she stood up, placed herself right in Sam's line of vision and waited for a reaction.

"Hiya Sammy," she whispered lovingly as she looked into Sam's open eyes.  But those eyes that were once so lively and mischievous were unfocused and somewhat dull.  Brooke's heart ached in her chest as Sam was unresponsive to her.  She didn't know what was worse now; Sam being unconscious or this semi-conscious state she seemed to have entered.  She leaned down and softly placed her lips over Sam's before sitting back down.

Silent tears raced down both their faces in a strange sense of symmetry and shared despair. 

"It'll be OK, Sammy.  I promise."

Tunnel Vision

Author's Notes: `Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone' was surprisingly not written by me. All credit for that goes to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Excerpt used without permission.

~~~~~

Being ultra careful not to get any soap into Sam's now open eyes, Brooke gently massaged the shampoo into the unresponsive girl's scalp as her head hung over the sink. Brooke had permission to wash Sam's hair and had been trained on how to do it. She mourned the loss of Sam's long dark locks, lost to brain surgery after the accident. It was growing back quickly but Brooke loved Sam's long hair and couldn't wait for it to once again look as it once did.

"Maybe I'm just eager for things to be like they were," she theorized out loud as she dutifully washed Sam's shorter hair. "Like, on some level if you LOOK like you did before the accident, it'll mean the accident didn't happen." She sighed at Sam's lack of response. Then she chuckled to herself.

"OK, you need to come back soon, Sammy, because I've resorted to psychoanalyzing myself and that can NOT be a good thing."

She rinsed the soap from Sam's hair, conditioned it and then towel dried it as she finished. She liked taking care of Sam like this but she'd just as rather be doing it to a conscious, responsive and appreciative Sam. She wrapped Sam's head in the towel and moved her back onto the bed before cleaning up the water basin and turning back to Sam. For half a second, Brooke could have sworn that Sam was watching her but on closer inspection, she saw the same blank look on Sam's face that had been there for nearly two weeks.

"OK, Sammy, let's sit you up and brush out your hair," she said simply. She lovingly brushed out Sam's hair and let it dry. She then sat on the bed next to Sam and pulled the quiet brunette into her arms as she lay back. Sam was all but disconnected from her monitors and such, and Dr. Stevens had encouraged Brooke to touch Sam, that perhaps it would speed her in regaining consciousness and awareness.

"All squeaky clean, Sammy," Brooke hummed softly into Sam's nearby ear. She held Sam close and stroked the other girl's shoulders and arms, also a direction from Dr. Stevens to get blood flowing to Sam's muscles. She then reached for a book from the night-stand.

"So, where were we, Sammy?" She opened the book to where the bookmark lay and started reading again.

"Chapter Eleven: Quidditch. As they entered November, the weather turned very cold." Brooke began reading, her voice low and soothing. She had begun reading books to Sam as a way to keep her voice present as Sam healed even when she'd run out of things to say. She'd read some other books to Sam before finding the well-worn copies of the Harry Potter series hidden in Sam's bookcase. Brooke never knew Sam was a Potter fan and thought that if she was going to read to her, she should at least read something she knew that Sam liked.

"The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots."

Brooke felt Sam suddenly snuggle closer, the first real voluntary movement the injured girl had made.

"Sammy?" she asked hopefully. She heard Sam sigh and saw that the brunette's eyes were closed.

"Sammy, open your eyes for me. I miss your beautiful eyes so much," she begged. To her complete surprise, Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"Oh God, can you hear me?" Brooke asked, her breath catching in her throat. Sam whimpered in response and buried her face in Brooke's neck. Brooke then felt Sam start to shake.

"You can hear me, I know you can," Brooke whispered into Sam's hair. Sam nodded against her and Brooke felt herself start to cry. Absolute joy flooded Brooke's body as she realized Sam was awake and responding to her. She had her Sammy back!

"Can you talk? How long have you been aware of me?"

"Huuurtssss…" Sam shuddered. "I dunno…dark…" Brooke pulled away slightly to look at the trembling form in her arms.

"What hurts, baby? What's dark?" Panic was beginning to overwhelm joy and relief.

"Ev'rythin'," Sam whimpered. "Ev'rythin' hurts, s'dark…" Brooke looked into Sam's wide-open eyes and felt her world spin out from beneath her as the realization of Sam's condition slammed into her. The reason behind the blank stare, the listless gaze suddenly became all too obvious.

"Oh shit, Sam…you can't see…you're blind…"

**

"As far as we can tell," Dr. Stevens ran a tired hand through his hair. He was frustrated with the test results and honestly felt that poor Sam had been through more than her fair share of turmoil and pain. "The blood clot that was removed apparently put pressure on her optic nerve before we were able to get to it, causing damage to her eyesight. Now whether or not this is permanent…I'm afraid we'll have to wait and see."

"At least she's awake and responding," Mike chirped trying to put a positive spin on the situation. Jane sent him a caustic look.

"She's blind, Mike. No thanks to you," she snapped and then turned to her daughters, huddled together on the bed. The fact that Sam would only let Brooke and medical staff near her struck her as odd but for now she was willing not to think about it.

Mike sighed. He was watching his marriage hit the toilet faster than a Mexi-melt from Taco Bell.

"Wait and see," Jane mumbled. "How about I get a Voodoo doctor and see if THAT helps?"

"Mom…" Brooke sighed, a hint of warning in her voice. She didn't want the negative vibes she could feel in the room reaching Sammy.

"Brooke, she's blind and the doctors have no idea how to help. I'm a little frustrated, aren't you?" Jane asked impatiently. Brooke nodded. "Well, then, why don't you do something to help instead of just sitting there?"

"Jane, leave Brooke alone," Mike broke in. "She's the only one who was able to reach Sam in the first place and you're letting your jealousy towards that color your behavior now."

"Michael…" Jane growled. "My daughter is blinded…HANDICAPPED because YOU didn't stop an obviously drunk teen from getting behind the wheel of a car and mowing her down. Now I have to readjust everything to accommodate this new wrinkle. Now I'll have to take care of baby Mac and blind Sam."

"Oh get over yourself, Jane!" Mike huffed. "What's happened to you? Since the accident you've become an unbearable harpy. This isn't about YOU. Sam is the one affected by all this. SHE'S the one who can't see."

"Uh guys," Sam's weak voice cut through the tension sharply. "I'm not in a coma anymore. I'm blind, not deaf. I can
hear you."

"And I think it's better for her if you leave," Brooke instructed angrily. Mike, knowing that his daughter was right,
nodded. Jane just shot her a dirty look.

"I can stay if I please, Brooke. She's MY daughter."

"Actually," Dr. Stevens cleared his throat. "I think it WOULD be better for Sam if you were to step out for a while until you can get a handle on your temper, Mrs. McPherson. Trust me, your theatrics aren't doing anyone any good."

"Excuse me?" Jane gasped incredulously as Mike snickered.

"Here, let me direct you to our Counselor downstairs who deals in these sort of situations," Dr. Stevens said as he ushered both parents out and sent a look at Brooke who mouthed `thank you' at him.

"God, Brooke…has it been like that since…" Sam trailed off as Brooke held her a little tighter. She only felt safe when Brooke was holding her. The all-encompassing darkness scared her so bad that she just wanted to curl up into a ball and go back to sleep. But Brooke's warm presence wouldn't let her do that. She heard Brooke sigh heavily.

"I wasn't home a lot. I was here mostly. But yeah, it has been like that a lot, I guess," Brooke answered. Sam felt hot tears burn her eyes and race down her face.

"I'm sorry…I ruined everything," she sobbed. She felt Brooke wrap herself around her and gentle fingers wipe away her tears.

"God, no, Sam. This isn't your fault. Not at all. It's Nicole's," Brooke soothed. Sam could hear Brooke, feel and smell her. She just really wanted to see her.

"I wish Nicole'd killed me," she wailed into Brooke's arms. Brooke felt her heart shatter with despair and fear.

"No, Sammy…God, no. You saved my life. I'd die without you in it."

Sam listened to the words but, not being able to see Brooke's face, she wasn't sure if she was hearing Brooke correctly. Yes, she remembered, vividly, the night they'd spent together before the prom. It was one of, if not THE happiest memory she had. But, if she understood the tone and timber of Brooke's voice correctly, there was much more to Brooke's feelings than she'd initially realized.

"What…" she sniffled. "What do you mean? Why am I so important?"

"Oh, Sammy," Brooke said lovingly, and Sam couldn't mistake the love that obviously colored the way Brooke said her nickname. "I thought you understood. You're so important to me because I love you."

"I'm IN love with you, Sammy."

Brooke sat holding Sam against her chest as the injured brunette worked with her new physical therapist, James. The blonde acted like a back support, mostly because it was the only way Sam would agree to cooperate right now. One thing that hadn't changed since the accident was Sam's rock hard stubborn streak. She was blind and relied on Brooke to help her. That included having her be there at each therapy session as James helped Sam rebuild the muscles in her weakened arms and legs.

"Come on, Sam…two more," James encouraged. Sam grunted disgustedly and ground her teeth together.

"That's what you said two lifts ago," she complained. Brooke could feel Sam's thin form trembling in her arms with the effort. She just wanted to wrap the frail girl up in her arms and take away all the pain she knew Sam was in, protect her from it and the trauma but she knew that she couldn't. It was outside of her power so she tried to do what she could to help Sam though it. It was all she could do.

"Jesus, that hurts," Sam hissed as James pushed against her left foot. "Enough, stop."

"Sam," James sighed as he gently set her foot back down on the mat. "We've gone over this, kiddo. It's going to hurt. You've got broken bones healing and muscles which have atrophied that we have to get moving again before you suffer permanent nerve damage. If you want full function back, almost 100% of what you had before the accident, then you have to WORK at it. And it's going to hurt but eventually, you'll work through that, get past it. If you work at it, Sam, you will get better."

"I find your mock concern for my well-being condescending," Sam snapped. "Especially given that the only reason you're here is because you're being paid to be."

"Sammy…" Brooke scolded gently. Sam frowned around her special light blocking glasses that hid her beautiful brown eyes from Brooke. Brooke hated those glasses for that reason but understood that they were necessary to protect Sam's eyes.

"Well, it's true. He looks at a file of papers with my name and history on it, decides on a course of treatment, works with me, one of many patients by the way, collects his paycheck and goes on his merry way. He doesn't give a rat's ass, in reality, what happens to me one way or the other as long as the hospital signs his check and it doesn't bounce. As long as my insurance is good, he's happy."

"Oh and as long as I get to bask in the presence of your sunny disposition I'm happy as well," James added, sending a wink to Brooke to let her know he wasn't in the least offended by Sam's out of character angry tirade. "But since your time is up, I'll just be `on my merry way', as you put it."

James and Brooke helped a stubborn and surly Sam back into her wheelchair and after giving Brooke some instructions for the day and handling Sam, James left. Brooke started pushing Sam back on the trek to her room when Sam suddenly broke the oppressive silence.

"Did you know that it's nauseating to be pushed around and not be able to see where it is you're going?" Her tone wasn't angry; it was questioning, like she really wondered if Brooke was aware of the fact. Outside the presence of others, Sam acted more like the Sam Brooke was familiar with and not like the angry person she was towards everyone else.

"I can only imagine," Brooke admitted quietly.

"It's like, I have to totally trust whoever's pushing me around, that they won't just shove me down a staircase. It's unnerving," Sam elaborated. Brooke brushed at some of Sam's short brown hair, already turning curly as it grew out again.

"I bet. But just so you know, Sammy, I have no intentions of shoving you down any staircases any time soon," she smiled, a hint of laughter coloring her voice.

"That's good to know," Sam mumbled quietly as she leaned back into Brooke's touch. When she was with Brooke was the only time when the rage she felt bubbling below the surface seemed to fade into the background and she felt safe and happy.

Sam hated not being able to see. She figured that she might have been able to deal with everything else; the broken bones, weak muscles, physical therapy and so on if she could just SEE what was going on around her. She valued her ability to watch someone when they spoke to her, she was a firm believer in eye contact to gauge someone's honesty and being able to see their body react when they spoke. Now she was robbed of all of that and it pissed her off and left her feeling isolated and vulnerable.

"I only just got you back," Brooke said quietly, sadness and pain clear to Sam in her voice. "I don't want to lose you again."

Sam reached up and gently grasped Brooke's hand in her own.

"Hey, don't cry, Brooke," she whispered. Brooke smiled again as she tried to blink the hot tears away.

"How'd you know?" she asked, surprised that Sam knew that she'd started to silently cry.

"Your voice. It cracked and then dipped. It only does that when you're trying not to cry," Sam explained.

"Yeah, well, you know me too well," Brooke sniffed. "Here we are, back at your room. So, do you want a shower or just to relax in your bed?" Sam sighed.

"There's too much crap involved in taking a shower. You have to call a nurse so that she can set it up and blah blah…I'm too tired."

"OK, no problem. Let's get you back into the bed then," Brooke helped Sam onto the bed and then parked her wheelchair a few feet away. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Sam laughed.

"Brooke, I'm fine, just tired. I'll let you know if I need anything, I promise," she said as she reached up and took off her glasses. She then arched an eyebrow and looked in Brooke's general direction. "Are you going to join me?"

Brooke slid into the bed upon request and wrapped her arms around Sam who leaned into her. She reached out and started to trace her fingertips lightly across Brooke's face, down her cheeks and over her lips.

"Say it again?" Sam whispered softly. She felt the corners of Brooke's mouth quirk upward slightly as she rested her fingers there.

"I love you, Sammy," Brooke answered, knowing what Sam meant and loving that Sam liked to hear it. "I love you." She felt Sam's fingers still tracing her lips as she spoke.

"Brooke, that night…before the Prom…" Sam blushed and bit her lip which Brooke thought was adorable.

"Mmmm, I remember," Brooke said fondly. She felt Sam shiver slightly in her arms at the tone of her voice and reminded herself that Sam was still injured and that it'd be a long time before they ever got to repeat that wonderful experience, if Sam ever wanted to.

"I never really did say `Thank you', did I?" Sam leaned in a little closer and kissed Brooke's jaw lightly.

"You don't need to, Sammy. But you're welcome and it's mutual," Brooke babbled. Sam was retracing the path of her fingers had taken with her mouth, lightly grazing Brooke's cheek.

Their lips met in a careful but loving kiss. Brooke was worried about Sam's physical condition and hurting her while Sam couldn't see if a kiss was really what Brooke wanted. After a moment, they relaxed into each other and started to lose themselves until the sound of a clearing throat disturbed them.

Brooke gasped and Sam cursed her sightlessness.

"Shit…" Brooke groaned.

"Oh, I don't wanna know, do I?" Sam grumbled. She tried to listen for a clue as to who was at the door but whoever it was didn't move.

"Hi Daddy," Brooke said meekly and Sam thought she was going to throw up.

"I wish I had a camera for the looks on your faces right now," Mike joked after he felt they'd suffered in silence long enough. Both girls were deathly pale and Brooke looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Dad, I…we can explain…" Brooke choked out. Mike approached the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Explain what? That you two are in love? Have been for a while and that's why Sam pushed you out of the way of that car? That's why you've been at her side non-stop since that night, begging her to wake up, Brooke?" Mike asked. Brooke opened her mouth to respond but then just nodded.

"Yeah, I knew that, honey," Mike said gently. "I kept hoping that you'd come to me and open up so that you didn't have go through all this alone but, I guess I can't blame you for not doing so."

He sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh.

"I know this has been so hard for you, for you both. But please don't think you have to hide from me. The last thing I'm going to do is make this any harder, especially when I see how happy you seem to make each other, how Sam came back to YOU, Brooke. That's a big thing. I'm OK with this, honest."

"What about my Mom?" Sam asked as Brooke hugged her Dad. Mike hissed.

"OK, HER I'd hide from. She hasn't been handling ANYTHING well, Sammy, ever since the accident. She's gotten mean, if you'll excuse me for saying so," he explained.

"She did the same thing after my Dad died," Sam said flatly. "She doesn't do `stress' well, I guess."

"Apparently not," Mike agreed. "So, in the meantime, I'd be careful that she doesn't catch you two, like I just did," he winked. "She might REALLY flip."

"Good advice, Mike," Sam sighed. She knew her mother all too well. "Good advice."

Dark Corners

It was at night that the all-encompassing, suffocating personal darkness really got to her. During the day, there was enough miscellaneous background noise to distract her, for her to filter through to make her sort of forget about the nighttime. But at night, with only the muted beeps and hushed hallways of the hospital for company, Sam felt truly alone. Even the gentle reassuring sound of Brooke's sleep laden breathing from the bed next to hers did nothing to soothe Sam's terror.

Every unidentifiable tick, squeak, bang, bump, creak, and thump was another twisted horror her overly active imagination and over-stressed mind could come up with. To her, it felt like the walls were creeping in on her, closing in and cutting her off from the outside world. It was the purest form of fear. It made her heart race and her throat close as flashes of adrenaline sporadically flooded her system, sometimes set off by nothing more than a nurse making her rounds. That fear, coupled with the way her body ached beyond what the medicine could touch left Sam feeling fragile and isolated.

She lay huddled in her hospital bed, small whimpers unknowingly escaping from her lips from time to time. She could feel the tears burning her cheeks but sort of missed the way they used to blur her vision.

`I'd be happy with even that,' she thought sadly.

"Sammy? Are you OK?" Brooke asked sleepily. She was finely attuned to Sam and her emotions; therefore the brunette's soft whimpers had woken her quickly.

Sam jumped at the unexpected voice and then gasped at the pain the quick action caused. She also silently cursed at her inability to watch Brooke as they spoke. She missed just looking at Brooke's beautiful features.

"I'm scared, Brooke," she admitted in a whimper. Brooke got up and switched beds, gathering a trembling Sam into her arms.

"Of what, baby?" she asked gently as she ran her fingers through Sam's short but all ready unruly hair. Sam snuggled into the blonde but continued to shake.

"Promise not to laugh?" she said seriously. The thought of looking stupid to Brooke was seemingly unbearable in Sam's mind.

`And it's such a little thing to be afraid of too', she lamented.

"Of course I won't laugh, Sammy," Brooke reassured her. "Why would I laugh because you're scared?" Sam shrugged.

"I'm afraid of…the dark," she whispered pitifully, feeling small and alone. Brooke's heart broke at the lost and vulnerable tone of Sam's voice as well as the knowledge that there was nothing that she could do to really help.

"I know, Sammy," she hugged her precious brunette tightly but was mindful of the still painful injuries. "I know you can't see it but, would it help if I turned on the light? Would it help to at least KNOW that the light is on?" she offered. Sam shook her head.

"No, I guess not. It's not like I can see it," she sighed. She felt the gentle press of Brooke's lips against her temple and it eased her discomfort somewhat.

"Besides, Brooke, it'll just keep you awake. At least one of us should try and get some sleep," she added.

"Sammy, you need your sleep as much I do, if not more. You need it to heal," Brooke pointed out. Sam sighed again, heavier this time.

"I know but between the dark, the nightmares, and the pain, I can't relax," she explained softly. She hated admitting that she was still in pain. It made her feel weak and on top of that, she knew that it was tough on Brooke.

Sam was well aware of how her condition weighed on Brooke's mind. The blonde had witnessed the `accident' first hand, held her broken body that night in the street, and sat dutifully by her side while she struggled to wake up. All that plus the knowledge that Nicole's true target was Brooke herself gnawed at the taller girl and Sam didn't need her eyesight to be aware of it. The guilt was sometimes so palpable in Brooke's voice that Sam choked on it.

"Do you want to buzz the nurse for more medication?" Brooke wondered.

"No, I'm OK. It's more of an annoyance than real pain anyway," Sam clarified. She inhaled deeply, catching the smell of the sterile hospital but under that she caught Brooke's scent. It was very subtle under the antiseptic hospital smell, soap, and her shampoo. But it was warm and comforting. It was Brooke and it made Sam feel safe.

She breathed in again, trying to capture more of the fragrance and felt a rumble of laughter shake Brooke's lean frame.

"What? Why are you laughing?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"You were sniffing me again," Brooke giggled. "You've been doing it a lot lately. Makes me glad that I shower as much as I do or I'd be afraid that I smelled bad." Sam laughed with her.

"You smell good," she said as a way of explanation. "You smell warm and safe and snuggly. And sometimes, usually when I'm half-asleep and drifting, I imagine myself that night, being held in your arms. I remember that I fell asleep with my head on your shoulder and an arm and leg draped over you. And your arms were around me. I'd never felt so comfortable, or loved before in my life."

Brooke wished for the life of her that Sam could see the wide grin her words had caused as well as the happy tears. She reached over and traced Sam's full lips with her fingertips watching as Sam kissed them in response. She then leaned down and kissed Sam passionately.

"Tears?" Sam licked the salt off her lips after they parted. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you and am SO thankful to still have you," Brooke replied honestly.

"Oh," was all Sam said as she was overtaken by a huge yawn that she tried valiantly to hide. Brooke thought the display was cute.

"Think you can sleep now?" Sam nodded.

"If you stay here with me, yeah, I think so," she answered. Brooke pulled the blankets up over them both and cuddled down in the bed with Sam but not before turning on one of the small overhead lights.

"Just so you know it's there, Sam. It's not dark," she whispered into the drowsy girl's ear. Sam smiled lopsidedly.

"Thanks Brooke."

**

"I had some people who specialize in this sort of thing come in and map the house," Jane explained hastily. "You have to memorize this packet, Sam." She went to hand Sam the folder before she remembered that Sam couldn't see her holding it out and instead dropped it into the teen's lap with an impatient huff.

"Memorize it?" Sam echoed bewildered. Jane nodded, heedless of the fact that Sam couldn't see it.

"They mapped out how many steps in between rooms and the furniture, etc. The faster you memorize it, the quicker you can adjust to living at home and don't have to be watched all the time."

Sam frowned as she ran her hands over the smooth paper before sighing in frustration. She wished Brooke hadn't chosen a little earlier to go down the hall to take a shower.

"Fine, right after I learn Braille. Oh wait, it's not written in Braille, is it?" she asked sarcastically. "Mom, how exactly do you expect me to READ this?"

"Don't use that tone with me, Samantha," Jane warned in a tone that Sam remembered none too fondly. "Have Brooke read it to you or something. She spends enough time in here with you, have her do something useful. I don't care how you do it, but learn it."

"Mom," Sam started, drawing the name out as she tried to get her own temper in check. Setting off her mother's temper would only make things worse and Sam knew it. "You're being unreasonable."

"No, Sam. `Unreasonable' is thinking that we're going to provide 24 hour, 7 day a week nursing service for you because you're too lazy to learn how to take care of yourself," Jane snapped. "'Unreasonable' is expecting me to wait on you hand and foot while I have a baby to take care of AND a job that requires my attention."

"I never asked you to do that!" Sam shot back, annoyed. "As a matter of fact, I haven't asked anything of you."

"Good. Because like I told you when your father died, you're on your own, Samantha. He babied you, coddled you and I hated it. Every time you got into trouble, there came your father, riding in to save you like your own private knight in shining armor. Well, he's gone now, Sam. You got yourself into this God-awful mess, YOU get yourself out of it because I sure as Hell am not helping you."

"Like I said, I didn't ask you to," Sam growled. God, she hated it when her mother got like this. It'd been years since Jane had last behaved this way and Sam had hoped that that time was the last but apparently she had been wrong.

"Aside from things like the maps, YOU figure out what the Hell you're going to do. The maps help me get you out of my hair, Sam. That's why I had them done. To help me. You're nothing but a pain in my ass. A BLIND pain in my ass now," Jane muttered, disgustedly.

"I don't suppose you could, oh, LEAVE now, could you?" Sam asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. "My self-esteem has taken about all the abuse it can today but if you'd like to come back tomorrow and beat me some more, I think I can fit you in around 2." Jane rolled her eyes.

"You think you're so witty and clever, Sam. But really you're just a pathetic little miscreant," she accused.

"Big word, Mom. Did you hurt yourself?" Sam mocked. Not being able to see the blow coming, the slap startled Sam more than it hurt.

"I think you'd better leave, Jane," Brooke hissed. She'd been standing outside the door for a few minutes, quietly listening in to see where Jane's mind was in all this. She'd started in the room somewhere around `blind pain in the ass' but wasn't fast enough to stop Jane from slapping Sam. And Brooke was so angry she was literally seeing red.

Jane glared at Brooke and they stared at each other hotly as Sam rubbed her cheek absently from the bed, unaware their ocular battle.

"Well, Sam, I see you DO have someone else to fight your battles like your father used to," Jane said snidely. Brooke pointed to the door.

"I don't care if you ARE her mother, you've overstayed your welcome and if you EVER hit her again I'll make sure you never come near her again, now GO!" Brooke growled dangerously.

"Sam, memorize those maps," Jane ordered. "See you at home, Brooke."

Brooke took a few cleansing breaths after Jane left and then sat on the bed and checked the red mark on the side of Sam's face. She was startled when Sam flinched.

"Sam?"

"Sorry, couldn't see for sure it was you," Sam said softly. "Plus I'm a little jumpy right now."

"I know, baby, I'm sorry," Brooke soothed as she caressed the harassed cheek. "God, Sam, was that really Jane?" Sam nodded sadly.

"Yeah, she…gets like that when she's REALLY stressed. This has to be hard on her," Sam defended her mother, albeit somewhat half-heartedly. The look on Brooke's face was incredulous although Sam couldn't see it.

"Hard on her? What about you? Sam, YOU'RE the one who's hurt, not her. And at any rate, she has no right to hit you," Brooke countered. "Has she…shit, Sam, has she ever hit you before? And what was all that about your Dad?"

Sam sighed. This was a story she never wanted to have to tell Brooke. Jane McPherson was by nature a nice woman, it was just that she could not handle stressful situations well. Or her jealous streak. And at the moment, both were being irritated in the woman.

Sam rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingertips.

"Yeah, once or twice after my Dad died," she confessed reluctantly. She missed the look of pure rage that flashed across Brooke's face only to be replaced with one of pure love and compassion for her.

"As for my Dad…Brooke, do you remember how he died?" Brooke nodded out of habit and then mentally kicked herself.

"Uhm, car accident, right?" she asked although she was pretty sure. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, like the irony?" she asked without a hint of humor. "Anyway, his car hit a tree in the rain. He shouldn't have even been out driving in that shit but, because of me, he was. I guess Mom still kind of blames me."

"She shouldn't, Sam. It was an accident," Brooke reasoned. Sam shook her head.

"Not from her point of view. He was out in the storm doing something for ME so it's MY fault."

"No, Sam, it's STILL an accident. You got hit saving me. I was supposed to be the one hurt. Does that make this…my fault?" Brooke's voice had faded to a fearful whisper. Sam felt around and wrapped her arms around Brooke's waist in a fierce hug.

"No, never," she said firmly.

"But…by your logic…" Brooke started.

"Shush, don't use my logic against me," Sam smiled. Brooke immediately felt better. Sam's smiles always did that for her. The fear that Sam in some way blamed her for the whole incident was a huge burden for her. Knowing that she didn't was a great relief.

"So, why was your dad out that night?" Brooke asked softly. Sam rested her head against Brooke's chest and listened to the blonde's steady heartbeat.

"I had a project for school that I'd forgotten to do, in my normal `Sam procrastination'," she chuckled. "Mom wanted me to get an `F' and learn not to put things off until the last minute but Dad didn't. He always wanted me to do good in school and understood that sometimes I didn't mean to forget, I just did. But I didn't have the construction paper and glue for the job. It was storming real bad but he said he'd go get it and pick up dinner too. He was on his way home from getting dinner after getting the supplies when he hydroplaned into the tree."

"Awww, Sammy," Brooke sighed in sympathy.

"That first night was the worst with my Mom. I don't know if she didn't realize what she was doing but…yeah it was bad."

Rage poured through Brooke as the images of a young, grief-stricken Sam being beaten and screamed at by her mother streamed through her mind. She wanted to repay every wound, every injury but knew it was a fruitless fantasy. This woman was her stepmother, after all.

"You're awful tense, Brooke, please don't let this upset you," Sam asked as she snuggled closer and started to drift off, the emotional cost of the afternoon taking it's toll. But she could feel the ripples of tension throughout the muscles in Brooke's body and the thought of having upset her made Sam unhappy.

"It does upset me, Sammy. And I'm going to have a long talk with my Dad," Sam opened her mouth to protest but Brooke silenced her with a gentle kiss.

"But for now, I think I'll just take a nap with you. Is that OK?" Sam smiled and nodded.

"That'd be lovely," she agreed.

"And Jane can't visit unless I'm in here too," Brooke amended.

"You'll get no argument from me," Sam agreed happily. She didn't want to spend time alone with her mother again anymore than Brooke wanted her to.

Understanding Light

Summary: Time to go home

~~~~~

Impact. That was something she remembered. Clearly. Crystal clear as a matter of fact. Unmistakable even as time passed. Impact. That was something she didn't think she'd ever be able to forget. Especially since it liked to replay in her mind like a bright Technicolor DVD on a 64-inch flat plasma screen television by Sony.

The impact of her body with Brooke's, soft flesh hitting soft flesh as her shove sent Brooke flying to the asphalt and out of harm's way. Even in that fleeting second, she drank in the warm and wonderful scent that was Brooke, feeling safe in that moment. Then the direct opposite of that soft contact. The hard, horrid feeling of the cars' front bumper as it hit her legs; pain so intense it was almost not even there. If that made any sense. And the odd out of place thought that she'd just lost a shoe.

Then the sensation of falling over onto the still speeding car's hood. She could feel the warmth of the engine even as she felt bones break and blood spill. The smell of the engine filled her nostrils as she felt herself fly up the hood and into the windshield. Tiny pinpricks of pain covered her back as the window shattered and sent hundreds of shards of broken glass into her already damaged and bloodied body.

Sometime after that she must have blacked out because she didn't remember falling off the car as it careened out of control. She did remember the force at which she hit the roadway. It jarred her bones and she felt them snap and break even more. The pain by now was enveloping her entire body; almost like there wasn't a piece of her not injured and in agony.

The tar was cool under her face and smelled of oil. But Sam didn't care. She just lay there, afraid to move and quite unwilling to as well. She was happy to lay there forever if it meant that she wouldn't hurt anymore.

And then the DVD rewound suddenly and Sam was again experiencing the impact of her body with Brooke's. And then the Jaguar.

***

Brooke was bolted into awareness by the scream of pure desperation from the warm body in her arms. She'd been lying with Sam in the injured girl's hospital room watching TV until Sam had fallen asleep. And happy to be where she was, Brooke too dozed off.

Now the weakened form beside her thrashed on the bed, in danger of re-injuring herself if she carried on. And whimpering; a sad, scared sound that made Brooke nauseous.

"Sam…Sammy, wake up," she whispered, loud enough she hoped, to break into whatever nightmare Sam was experiencing. Although it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what Sam was dreaming about. And for about the millionth time since the accident itself, Brooke was overwhelmed by her own sense of helplessness and guilt.

"Sammy, please wake up," the blonde tried again. "You're safe here. It's over. Wake up."

"Make it stop, please," Sam begged in a tiny voice. And Brooke's heart broke all over again for the brunette girl that had saved her life. She brushed Sam's bangs away from her face and then kissed the top of the other girl's head.

"I wish I could," she said honestly. "I wish I could make it all stop, take away all your pain. But I don't know how." She felt Sam tremble in her arms. "I wish it were me. Not you."

"Don't," Sam whispered, fully awake now. "Don't ever wish that. It's a waste of time. What happened happened. I don't regret it and neither should you." She shifted in Brooke's arms, seeking to get more comfortable as her healing body protested her earlier strenuous actions. She heard Brooke sigh as the blonde held her a little tighter.

Sam wished, not for the first time, for her sight back. Hell, she'd begged, pleaded and pretty much tried to barter with any deity that would listen to her to just let her see. She wanted so much to be able to look at Brooke when they spoke, to read her face. Now she was forced to use her other senses to interpret the sounds that Brooke made. And she figured that she was pretty sucky at it.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly. "I`m so sorry that I`m putting you through all of this."

"Through what, Sammy?" Brooke asked, her voice holding just the barest tinge of amusement. "I'm not the one suffering here. You are. I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am."

Sam hated having these conversations. The whole 'I blame me', 'no no, I blame ME' game was sickening to her. Plus she'd had it not only with Brooke, but Lily, Carmen and especially Harrison numerous times. What the hell they were sorry for, she had no clue, but repeating the same conversation over and over again ad naseum was just simply ANNOYING.

"OK, so we're both a sorry pair of jackasses," she said decidedly. She felt Brooke giggle.

"If you say so. Although we are a sad little pair, aren't we?" the lanky girl joked. "Well, the good news is that we, meaning you, get to go home tomorrow." While Sam was thankful for the change in subject, it wasn't a topic that she was all that happy about.

"Yip-pee," she muttered, settling back down to go back to sleep. She really hoped that the dreams were done for today. Most mornings she woke up feeling more tired than when she fell asleep.

"Aw, Sammy, you don't want to go home?" Brooke asked as they both relaxed again.

"Let's see, I get to go home to, what exactly?" Sam grumbled. "A home that I can't even see to get around in, unless of course I remember some of those stupid maps my `wonderful' mother had done for me? Sounds fun. Not to mention getting to spend time with said mother repeatedly every day; listening to her rant and rave at how irresponsible I am, what a burden it is to `care' for me. Should do wonders for my recovery and self-esteem."

"Sam, I am not going to leave you alone in Jane's presence again any time soon," Brooke reminded the sullen girl. "So if she even dares to say anything like what you just mentioned, I'll thump her over the head with a heavy object," she finished, her voice become little more than a growl. The scene from a few days prior where Jane had slapped Sam across the face replayed itself in her minds eye and Brooke felt her blood begin to boil all over again.

"Brooke, don't let her wind you up," Sam said tiredly. "She'll probably enjoy knowing that she annoys you that much so don't give her the satisfaction. Besides, she gets like this and just needs time to depressurize, that's all." Brooke sighed at Sam's seeming acceptance of her mother's actions.

"Sam, I don't understand how you can just shrug it off like that. She hit you," she protested. "Parents should never hit their children in anger like that." Sam yawned and then shrugged.

"Brooke, I've been through it before and it eventually faded away once she got a handle on things again. Getting all worked up over it only makes me more like her and that's something I never want to be."

"Sammy, you could never be like that," Brooke assured the brunette in her arms. But again Brooke was reminded that it wasn't the first time that Sam had suffered some sort of abuse at Jane's hands.

"Plus, I don't condone her behavior," Sam continued after a beat. "As a matter of fact it pisses me the hell off and if she ever treats Mac like that you can bet your entire inheritance that I'll not only say something to her but take Mac away if I have to." Sam's voice was laced with steel and certainty. There was no doubt in Brooke's mind that she meant every word that she said and would follow it through to the utmost.

"So why don't you say something now?" Brooke wondered. "Tell her to back off, that you're not a burden like she thinks and that this whole mess is the result of an accident. OK, sure, an accident where someone aimed a car at me but it was nothing that YOU planned to happen. Instead you're saying nothing and letting her get away with it."

"Because, Brooke, I don't want to fight with her. I just want to leave it alone and let it go away on its own," Sam said exasperated.

"And if it doesn't?" Brooke challenged. Sam shrugged and closed her injured eyes.

"Well, then I'll have to rethink my whole `passive- aggressive' attitude, won't I?"

**

(Ok, the fridge is 4 steps past the archway on my left) Sam thought to herself as she tried to put the maps her mother had had made for her to practical use a few days after returning to the Palace. She and Brooke had spent a lot of time going over the maps verbally so that Sam had memorized them for the most part.Unfortunately the maps were measured in steps, not turns of the wheels on her chair so she was usually forced to abandon the chair and exercise her weakened legs. On the up side, she was making remarkable progress in rehab. Most of her fractures had healed while she was still unconscious so now she just had to rebuild the muscles that had atrophied in that same span of time.

(All right, the fridge is 5 steps to me, not 4. Whoever made the maps apparently had longer legs than me)

"Hey Sam, how's it going?" Mike asked as he entered the kitchen behind the blinded teen.

"Yipes!" Sam jumped a good two feet straight up, banging her knee on the kitchen counter in the process. "OW!" Her legs gave out suddenly and she found herself sitting on the cold tile floor.

"God, Sam, I'm sorry," Mike apologized as he helped Sam up and then into her chair. "I didn't mean to startle you." Sam waved him off.

"S'Ok, Mike," she flashed him a brief self-deprecating smile. "I was concentrating so hard on remembering the map measurements that I didn't hear you come in."

Mike observed the injured brunette silently for a few moments. Her face was open and animated as she spoke, but behind that he could see a shadow of something. He wasn't sure if it was hurt, pain or perhaps fear.

"As long as you're OK?" Sam nodded. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about how you`re really feeling. I know that you say you`re doing well but I can`t help but think that that`s not the complete truth." Mike said as Sam pushed herself over to the table, only stopping when the footrests bumped with a chair to alert her that she was there. The teen's face scrunched up in distaste and she sighed.

"OK, this sucks ass," she grumbled. "There it is, honestly. This sucks MAJOR ass."

"I imagine," Mike smiled slightly at Sam's response. At least she'd answered him and not bit his head off like she was apt to do with her mother. Something had happened between Sam and Jane, Mike was astute enough to pick up on that. Plus Brooke was nothing short of Arctic cold to the elder McPherson, seeming to barely be able to contain her venom. But Mike, being the easygoing type a guy that he was, didn't press his daughter for an explanation. Brooke seldom treated anyone with less than the utmost respect so Mike had no doubt in his mind that Jane had done something to get on the blonde teen's bad side. And he knew eventually his daughter would come to him to talk about it. He just hoped that it was soon for everyone's sake.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled. Mike frowned for a moment until he realized what he had actually said. And he thought to himself that, really, all he could do WAS image that he knew how Sam felt. But he'd never been injured like she was or blinded. So he had no actual basis for comparison.

"You know, I have no idea how you feel, Sam. And I'm not going to patronize you by saying that I do," Mike declared to the utter shock of Sam.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I've been getting the `I know how you feel' routine from almost everyone except Brooke since I was released from the hospital and frankly it's condescending. I just want to scream at people; `No, no you don't know how I feel so stop trying to make me think you understand what I'm going through. You have no idea.' It just pisses me off and makes me want to not talk to anyone, you know?"

"Now that I can understand," Mike joked. He watched another fleeting smile chase itself across Sam's face. Then, on a hunch, he asked his next question.

"And I'm sure your mother hasn't been making things any easier?" Even though she was wearing her dark glasses, Mike could have sworn that Sam rolled her eyes in disgust.

"You know, I understand that I spent a little time in a coma and there's bound to be a bit of brain damage, but honestly, do I strike you as babbling incoherently in the corner, drooling and wetting myself?" Sam asked in all seriousness. Mike shook his head and then remembered that Sam couldn't see him and cleared his throat.

"No, not at all. The direct opposite actually," he said calmly. "You're coherent, more coherent than some adults I know, I might add; you're self-sufficient, I haven't seen or heard you ask for help from anyone, save maybe Brooke. And as far as I know, you're toilet trained." He tried to joke, and was relieved to see a genuine smile grace Sam's features.

"Thank you again," she said earnestly. "I'm glad someone's noticed other than Brooke. Mom treats me as though she thinks I need a full time sitter. And I think she's considering Mac for the job. You know, because Mac, at her age, is so much more adept than I am."

Mike sighed. He knew that Jane wasn't dealing well with the stress of Sam's accident and its ultimate results but part of him, which was to say most, hoped that the eldest McPherson would eventually go back to being the loving and wonderful individual that he knew she was underneath this somewhat cruel new exterior. Unfortunately, it didn't look like that was happening anytime soon.

"Sam, can I ask you what happened between your mother and Brooke that's made my daughter so angry?" he asked, genuinely concerned about the growing rift between his fiancée and blonde daughter. He watched as Sam's ears seemed to turn a little pink and her usually full lips settled into a grim thin line.

"Mike, look, I really don't want to get into what happened," she hedged. Mike frowned.

"Sam, I can't help make it any better if I have no idea what's going on," he pointed out. "Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out. But this thing between Jane and Brooke is getting bad. Just this morning I overheard them screaming at each other over…"

"Over me," Sam interjected. "Trust me, I heard them better than you did," she added sourly. To tell the truth, Sam's hearing had gotten so sensitive that she was beginning to think a bird could pass wind two houses over and it'd sound like thunder to her overcompensating ears. Frankly she was surprised that Mike had been able to sneak up on her, however inadvertantly he'd done it.

"They were fighting over whether or not I was capable of taking care of myself. Guess who was on what side." Sarcasm and hurt dripped from each word and Mike was sure that behind Sam's dark glasses, tears were hovering on the edges of her lashes.

"Yes, but Brooke won as I recall," Mike added while giving Sam's shoulder a small squeeze. He didn't miss the small flinch that raced through Sam's slight frame at the gesture.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, again," he apologized. Sam laughed softly.

"Like I said, it's OK. It's just so odd not being able to see what the people around you are doing, what they intend to do. So when someone touches me and I don't know that they're going to, it's like `Whoa!' and I jump." She smirked and tilted her head slightly. "I must look pretty foolish when I do, huh?"

"No, Sam, not at all," Mike disagreed. "And with that explanation, I can kind of see what you mean. I've never thought about what it would be like to be blind."

"Me either," Sam mumbled darkly. "I don't recommend it."

"Sam, it's going to be all right," Mike tried to reassure his brunette step-daughter. Sam shook her head.

"I appreciate the gesture, but please don't make promises that you can't keep," she countered softly. "Even the doctors don't know if I'll ever see again. Mom hates me and I doubt that'll change any time soon. So other than Brooke, and now you, I have really no reason to be optimistic."

"Well, I'm flattered that you count me as a positive reason to be optimistic. You stick to that and you can talk to me at any time about anything, OK?" Sam nodded. "And you're mother loves you. She doesn't hate you." Sam sighed.

"Yeah? Well you could have fooled me," she said sarcastically. Mike frowned.

"Sam, tell me, please. Tell me what's going on with your mother. I only want to help." Sam bit her lip and sighed again.

"All right," she conceded. "I suppose you do have a right to know everything that's happened."

So she began her explanation of the incident in the hospital room, the slap and the angry words. Then, finally agreeing with Brooke's advise to stop letting her mother get away with her behavior, she backtracked in the story to relate to Mike about the night her father died and all that came after.

Mike stayed silent the entire time, never questioning Sam about events or prompting her when she fell silent for minutes at a time. He knew she would continue when she was ready and didn't want to pressure her into silence. By the time Sam concluded her story, Mike was many things: angry, appalled, shocked, and dismayed for starters. But above all that, he was regretful for the suffering that Sam had suffered as a youngster. Losing a parent and then having the other one turn on you. It was beyond his ability to comprehend Jane's actions all those years ago. And he was, again as he was much of the time since the accident, awed by Sam's silent strength and ability to face whatever was thrown into her path with superior grace.

"You probably don't believe me," Sam said in defeat. "But I swear that it's the truth." Mike was still silent as he turned Sam's words over in his mind. "I really wish that I could see your face right now." Mike then turned his attention outward and back to Sam.

"Sam, I'm going to give you a hug now," he said simply and did so as Sam felt long-suppressed tears begin to leak from her eyes.

"So, you believe me?" she asked between tears.

"Yes," Mike said, a tinge of anger coloring the simple word. But Sam knew in her heart that the anger wasn't directed at her. "I am going to have a talk with Brooke and then I'm going to have a very long discussion with your mother." Sam visibly paled.

"Please, you'll only make it worse…" she started, the early edges of panic beginning to set in. Mike hugged her again.

"No, I won't honey," he soothed. "I think it's long past time an adult did the right thing by you. And I promise I will. And it's a promise I intend to keep."

**

After a similar chat with Brooke later that evening, Mike spent several days wondering how to approach Jane with the subject. But every opening that he thought he saw was thwarted by an angry rant from Jane. So he went about his business until he felt the timing was right. He wouldn't wait too long, for the girl's sake.

In the meantime, he did a lot of research online about blindness and Sam's injury, trying to better understand where Sam was coming from. Then he decided that nothing beat experience in getting to understand a foreign concept.

"Mike, what on Earth are you doing?" Jane asked upon entering the room and finding Mike stumbling around the bedroom with a blindfold over his eyes.

"Trying to see…" he muttered as his legs bumped painfully into the dresser. He'd been at it a while and yet still rammed his knees into the same things. He had no clue how Sam was coping so well with blindness but was beginning to `see' the world in a whole new way. Jane crossed her arms and sighed.

"'To see' what, exactly?" she continued, her voice becoming annoyed and impatient. Mike continued his somewhat bumbling exploration of the room, his arms outstretched in front of him and using one leg to sweep the area in front of him to avoid bumping into anything else.

"What it must be like for Sam," he responded simply, as if to a child. Really, he thought that much was obvious.

"Well, you look like an ass," Jane pointed out. "A grown man wearing a blindfold and wandering around like a child. Honestly, Mike…"

"What, Jane?" Mike snapped, stopping as he found the bed and taking off his blindfold to look at his fiancée. "'Honestly' what? I look like an ass to you? So what? I don't care how I look right now. At least I'm trying to get a handle on Sam's situation, even if it's this way. It's the best I can do."

"'Handle on her situation'? What is that supposed to mean?" Jane huffed. "I don't think wearing that thing and walking around like an idiot is going to help you understand her immature mindset any better than your own."

"Jane, what's happening to you?" Mike switched tactics since he wasn't all that ready to start a fight with the woman that he still loved. At least not yet.

"What?" she barked defensively. "Nothing's happening to me, except my fiancée is acting like a moron only to appease my selfish daughter's hurt feelings. Because that's what she's done, made you feel guilty for her. Like you have to understand her condition? Please. There's nothing to understand. She acted without thinking about the consequences…"

"And thank God she did!" Mike yelled, the absurdity of Jane's logic disrupting his calm. "Because if she hadn't acted so selflessly, my daughter would likely be dead!"

"Oh that is so like you, to chose your daughter over Sam," Jane sneered. "Because her life is just so much more valuable than Sam's."

"Jesus, Jane, do you even hear what you're saying or do you not realize how cruel you're being? Sam's life isn't worth less than Brooke's, I didn't say that. Nor did I imply it because it's simply not true. Although you seem to think that saving Brooke's life was the wrong thing to do."

"I never said that."

"No, not in so many words. But your belief that Sam acted irresponsibly that night because of her condition now, how it somehow inconveniences your life because SHE'S blind, says it for you. She saved Brooke's life and if I had to feed her and wipe her ass for the rest of my life, I'd do it happily just in hopes that it'd be enough to thank her for that," he stately forcefully. "Besides, you're not the one having to live with the consequences of Sam's actions, Sam is. She's hurt, in pain, and blind and I can't even begin to think what that must be like for her."

"Mike, you're purposely misunderstanding me. I'm glad that she saved Brooke. Honestly I am. But if she'd just thought the whole thing through, stopped with her childish games with Brooke before they got this out of control, we wouldn't be in this damn situation."

"Maybe, maybe not. The simple fact of the matter is that Sam risked her life for Brooke and nearly died because of it. And while you're angry at her, I will never be able to express to her my gratitude or repay her for that."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Jane growled. "Now you feel like you owe Sam for getting involved in crazy circumstances that got out of control in the first place. You're rewarding her for being childish with her little competition with Brooke. That's what led to this whole mess in the first place. That and you being so stupid as to let a drunken, upset teenager get behind the wheel of a car. But, as far as I'm concerned, Sam brought this whole thing down on herself therefore it's her responsibility to get through it herself. Or she'll never learn anything."

"Learn what, Jane? That her mother is apparently an uncaring bitch?" Mike felt his anger level starting to rise and decided not to stop it. It was about time Jane learned exactly what he thought of her recent behavior.

"That actions have consequences that not just you have to live with," Jane explained angrily. "Everyone around you is effected too. She acted without thought of the outcome and now she expects me to clean up the mess. Well, I'm not her father. She can save herself this time."

"You're obviously not Joe McPherson," Mike shot back. "He cared about his daughter. She's just a burden to you and that's unthinkable to any real parent."

"Mike, you don't understand. This isn't the first time that her carelessness has led to something like this…" Jane started.

"STOP BLAMING SAM FOR JOE'S DEATH!" Mike screamed. "It was an accident, for God's sake. Same as this was. And she was a child when Joe died. It wasn't her fault."

"Michael, don't you raise your voice to me like that," Jane warned. "And you have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's where you're wrong, Jane," Mike retorted. "I know that whole story. Everything from Joe's death that night, how you treated Sam afterwards, to how you hit Sam in the hospital when you didn't appreciate something she had to say. And I've got to be honest, you're the wrong party in this scenario, not Sam."

"God, you sound like her father," Jane snarled. "He always felt like she needed protecting too."

"I meant what I said. You need to stop blaming poor Sam for what was a horrible accident. She would have never meant for Joe to get hurt."

"Because she never thinks things through. And I've never blamed Sam…"

"Yes, yes you have. You needed someone to blame for losing him and it was easiest to blame Sam. She was little and convenient. So you hit her then and again now, but I'm warning you not to do it again."

"She needs discipline," Jane began to explain. Mike cut her off with a bark of sarcastic laughter.

"Maybe if you'd caught her smoking pot or something, I'd agree with a good spanking even at her age. But hitting her because YOU'RE upset is unacceptable. Plus, she couldn't even see what you were doing. She was totally defenseless."

"You're making it sound worse than it was."

"No, I'm not. It was wrong to begin with. Look, you seriously need to get help for these issues you obviously have…" he started.

"I need no such thing," Jane argued. Mike stared at her.

"If you ever want us to get married, you do," he warned. "Because I'm not marrying someone who hits their children because THEY feel helpless."

"You can't tell me how to raise my daughter. Sam isn't yours," Jane pointed out smugly.

"And I regret that everyday. That I have one great daughter and a new baby full of potential is wonderful. But I wish that I had that 'proud parent' claim to the amazing young woman who saved my oldest child's life without a single thought as to her own safety. While you resent her actions, I'm proud of her. Proud beyond words. And I hope one day that she'll feel secure enough to call me `Dad' even though she's not mine."

Jane was silent, having no argument for Mike's words. He was so adamant, so passionate about what he said about Sam, that she knew that there was nothing she could say to counter it.

"So let me add two small things to this discussion, Jane," Mike started slowly, making sure that he had Jane's full-undivided attention. "One: you and I have a therapy appointment for Thursday morning that you and I WILL attend. Two: if you ever lay a hand on any of our children in anger again, on Sam, Brooke, or Mac, not only is our engagement off, our marriage, if we've gotten that far, will be over and you can sure as hell bet that I'll fight you to the end of time for custody of all three. I don't care how much I love you; I will not have that behavior in this house or with my children, including Sam. Do you understand me?" Jane glowered at him.

"I asked: `Do you understand me'? Because if these two things are going to be a problem for you, you know where the door is. Just know that you'll be going through it alone." After a few moments, Jane reluctantly nodded.

"Good," Mike said simply, his earlier anger quickly dissipating. "Now, come here. It's your turn to see what Sam sees." He held up the blindfold even as Jane rolled her eyes in disgust and left the room. Mike shrugged.

"OK. Then I'll just go back to what I was doing," he stated rather contently, and placed the mask back over his eyes to begin his exercise again.

Baby Steps

"Come on, Sam," Brooke encouraged, her arms out in front of her and her body poised to spring should Sam stumble. They were trying to rebuild the strength in her weakened legs with short walks in different areas of the house. Right now, Brooke had moved the furniture around in the living room and Sam was in deep contemplation of a few steps from the arm chair to the couch with Brooke in front of her as a guide/safety. She'd already fallen on the thin cheerleader going from the bed to the shower and although she tried to make up the squashing incident to the blonde in the shower, she still didn't want to land face first on the hardwood twice in one day.

"I like this plan better when you follow along behind me with my chair," Same grumbled. "I feel like I have no safety."

"I'm right here, Sam," Brooke reassured her. She saw Sam's right knee start to buckle and stepped forward, her arms going right around the slim waist to steady her. "See? I promised. I got you." Sam sighed into the slender neck, basking in the touch and the scent of the taller girl.

"I'll keep going if you keep your hands on my hips," Sam offered softly. "Please, Brooke, when I know the chair isn't there and I can't...see you I feel all, disconnected from everything and like I'm out here all alone. It's kinda scary."

Brooke frowned, not able to comprehend even now, weeks into it, how Sam was coping with her blindness. She wasn't sure that she herself would have been able to deal with losing her eyesight with anywhere near the amount of calmness that Sam was. Granted, she knew that Sam wasn't coping terrifically and everything wasn't roses and butterflies; Sam was angry and upset which was expected. But she was trying to cope. Brooke figured if she lost her own sight, she'd curl up under her covers and never want to come back out.

It was undoubtedly twice as hard for Sam since at that point in time, she couldn't use her laptop without help, couldn't write. While the brunette was long past needing to look at the keys to type, she couldn't see what she wrote to know, the way a writer does, if she was making her point clear as she went. And handwriting was out of the question as well. She really was trapped within herself to some extent and Brooke knew that it was making the writer antsy, unable to express herself or to do the things she wants.

"You just want my hands on your hips," the blonde teased, hoping to calm some of Sam's uneasiness. It earned her a classic Sam smirk which she was pleased to see. She also liked the way the smile reached the smaller girl's rich chocolate eyes. She had asked, and Sam agreed, that the injured brunette not wear her glasses when they were together. Although they were blank and saw nothing, Brooke still missed looking into them when Sam hid behind them and she never wanted to make Sam feel like she needed to hide the wide, sometimes unblinking orbs from her. Even blind, she felt that they connected her to Sam, same as her hands were now doing that for Sam.

"Well there is that, yes," Sam laughed. Her face then went serious again. "But seriously, Brooke, please just keep your hands there? No, wait..." She took an unsteady step back, feeling around for the armchair she just vacated. Confused, Brooke helped her sit back down.

"Sam, what..." she started. Sam shook her head.

"No, I wanna try something," she said softly. "Now, can you do this for me? Please?"

"Do what, Sam?" Brooke frowned. "I'm not following."

"Close your eyes," Sam instructed slowly. Confused but wanting to help Sam any way she could, Brooke did as she was told. "Are they closed cuz I can't tell."

"Bad joke, Sammy," Brooke chastised although she was smiling slightly. "OK, they're closed, I give you my word of honor."

"All right," Sam giggled. "Now, spin in place a few times, really fast." Brooke frowned again but started to spin in place. A few turns later she stopped and groaned.

"Ew, OK, now I'm nauseas," she complained, eyes still shut. She was listing from side to side as well with her arms out to 'see' where she was.

"Eyes still shut?" Sam wondered. Brooke nodded and then groaned again, louder. It had made her even more sick to her stomach.

"Yeah, Sammy, what..."

"Walk across the room, Brooke," Sam instructed.

"Sammy, I don't know where I am," Brooke complained.

"Exactly," Sam said flatly. "Now, take a step, please." Biting her lip, Brooke stepped forward and promptly banged her knee on the couch.

"Ow!" she protested, reaching down to rub her knee and nearly falling over.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Sam asked quietly. "Not knowing where anything is, your legs all wobbly and shit? It sucks." Brooke sighed, seeing, for lack of a better word, Sam's point.

"I'm disoriented and feel like I'm totally exposed," she said in response. "Is that how it is for you, Sammy? I'm so sorry."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Brooke," Sam told her, tilting her head slightly as Brooke sat down on the couch. The sound of the cushions shifting and Brooke's jeans against the material told her almost exactly where the taller girl was. "I just needed you to understand."

"I know, Sammy," Brooke said, her voice laced with the sadness and guilt that Sam knew she carried over what happened that night. She wished Brooke didn't feel so guilty over what happened. It sucked and was painful in more ways than one but Sam honestly held no regret or resentment for the outcome. Brooke was alive; they both were. To Sam, that was the most important thing.

"Let me try again," Sam offered again, standing slowly and letting her sense of sound and a strange new other 'sense' tell her where Brooke was in relation to her. She heard Brooke start to stand and put her hand up to stop her. "Wait," she asked, listening for the rustling to tell her Brooke retook her seat.

Her legs were wobbly and she felt like it was miles but she listened to Brooke's breathing, slow and even and felt for the presence she knew was there. Warm hands on her hips stopped her progression forward.

"You made it," Brooke whispered happily, looping her fingers through the belt loops of Sam's jeans and tugging downward for Sam to sit on her lap. To her disappointment, the brunette sat off to the side of her with a 'whoomph'.

"Mom will be home any minute," Sam said, almost able to feel the frown on her girlfriends beautiful features. "You know I would never give up the chance to sit on your lap or cuddle." She leaned in a little closer to a sensitive ear, hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair. "Or kiss you." Sam pressed her lips against the skin she reached, feeling through Brooke's skin as the taller girl gasped and shivered with pleasure.

"My lips are over here though," Brooke joked, tilting her head.

"My mistake," Sam husked back, moving and meeting Brooke's lips with her own with effortless aim. Brooke started to get lost in the feel of Sam's lips and the hot swirl of velvety tongue playing along with her own. She was about to let her hands enter the game when Sam pulled away, leaving her feeling bereft.

"Sam," Brooke pouted. She saw Sam grin and lift her hands to touch Brooke's face, tracing the frown lines.

"No pouting, beautiful," she said softly. "I heard Mom's car pull into the driveway and her door slam. We'd better look busy and a little less 'bizz-ay' if you know what I mean." Brooke strained to hear what Sam said she had but the ambient noises from the house and the road out front masked everything.

"Guess I should be glad you heard her, huh?" she wondered, standing up and pulling Sam with her. Sam nodded and sighed.

"Yup, guess so," she agreed, hating how unsteady her legs felt. But just as she opened her mouth to say something, she felt Brooke's hands back on her hips, guiding her.

"Your chair is over to the right...no wait, your left, my right," she corrected herself quickly. Sam arched an eyebrow and smirked.

"What is this? The blind leading the blind?" she asked, laughing. "They let you drive with that sense of direction? Glad I can't drive right now..."

"Sam, really, that humor is inappropriate," Jane grumbled as she walked past. "And put your glasses on. No one wants to see you staring blankly at them. It's unnerving."

Brooke felt Sam's body stiffen at the voice and cruel words even as the brunette reached into her pocket and pulled out her glasses. She went to put them on when Brooke's hand stopped her.

"It's just us here, Jane," Brooke bit out as calmly as she could. She wanted nothing more than to rush over and slap the woman silly for the harm her careless words were doing to her gentle girlfriend but knew she couldn't. "I have the lights down low so they shouldn't bother her eyes."

Jane paused in the doorway and glared at the blonde but Brooke refused to back down; she gave the angry glare right back and waited for the older woman's next move.

"Fine," Jane huffed as she turned away. "But wear them at dinner because I don't like seeing them when I'm eating." She stomped off towards her bedroom, leaving Brooke to fume.

"Calm down, babe," Sam soothed, running her hands lightly over Brooke's tense back. "She has a right to ask me to wear them at dinner; it'd make me nervous too if someone was just staring and stuff." Brooke could feel her teeth grinding together painfully.

"She could have been a little more polite about it," she grumbled.

Sam leaned up and kissed the irate blonde on the nose.

"You're so cute when you're protective and indignant," she stated happily. She could still feel the waves of tension coming from the taller girl and it bugged Sam that her mother irked Brooke so badly.

"Seriously, Sam, she could be!" Brooke protested. Sam just shrugged and leaned into the safe, warm body.

"She could," she agreed, pressing her nose to Brooke's shirt and inhaling the sweet scent of the other girl. "But then she wouldn't be my mother."

Interlude

This chapter, is purely XXX

~*~*~*~

"This is...different," Sam whispered as she lay on her back, Brooke's toned body straddling her hips. They were both naked and sweaty, reaffirming their love for the first time since the accident. Until then, Sam hadn't had enough stamina or energy for intimacy, plus she was still in pain. As it was she was restricted to being on the bottom which was fine with them both for now. It was roughly two weeks since the afternoon when Sam had shown Brooke what it was like to be blind and they'd only grown steadily closer as the days passed.

Jane seemed to be catching on that her daughter and step-daughter were more than friends and she wasn't happy about it. But Mike, in his own way, was keeping Jane from bothering Sam and Brooke too much by taking her to therapy for her anger issues and relaxation classes as well. Between her job and the classes, she wasn't home all that much, for which the girls were thankful.

Tonight, Mike and Jane were away on an overnight trip and Mac was with one of Jane's friends. She didn't like leaving the baby at home with Sam even if Brooke was there. She was convinced that something would happen and Sam would be of no help.

"Uhm...different how?" Brooke wondered, a little unsure. They were already all wound up and she knew if Sam stopped now, she'd have to go back to her own room to relieve the ache that had developed. It'd been so long since that one night she'd had with Sam and she was yearning to feel the girl against her again. She wasn't the one who started things that night, it was Sam and that talented mouth of hers that had sent the blonde's heart rate skyrocketing and sent clothes flying.

There was also the nagging fear that Brooke always held, despite a few trips through therapy, that her body and weight were unattractive. Having Sam, blind and finding her way through touch, say something was 'different' made her tense in anxiety.

"Different in the sense that I can't see you," Sam said with a smirk that Brooke could see in the moonlight that streamed through the window giving the brunette a unearthly glow. "It's different that I can't tell, I mean, see how you're reacting with my eyes. I have to feel the differences in your body through my fingers and for the record, there is nothing wrong with this flawless body of yours."

Brooke blushed and ducked her head.

"How did you..." she started to ask. She felt her girlfriend's frame tremble as she chuckled.

"Well, for one thing, I know you," Sam said gently. "I know that you're still insecure about your body even though if you think about it, it's kinda silly. I can't see it anyway."

"Sam," Brooke warned with a sigh. "You are seriously going to kill my mood." Slender fingers suddenly stroking through her wet folds made her moan.

"I think I can fix that," the smaller girl grinned. "But that's just it, Brooke. This, the way you feel right now, tells me how you feel and when I said that it was 'different' I felt you tense. Please, baby, even if I could see and if you gained 600lbs and went bald, I'd love you." Brooke moaned her agreement since Sam's fingers hadn't stilled and were stealing her ability to speak.

"This is different but not in a bad way," Sam kept speaking, her voice becoming rougher with lust as the blonde began to undulate subtly against her exploring digits. "I can't see your skin flushing or the way you're probably biting your lip right now but I can feel so much. Your muscles are flexing and twitching in your abdomen and thighs. You keep squeezing my sides with them."

Brooke whimpered as Sam slipped inside her.

"God, I've missed this," Sam husked. "That night...you have no idea what it meant to me, showing you how I felt and having those feelings returned. The way you made me feel...I would relive it after I woke up on the nights I couldn't sleep; feeling you...feeling this." She curled her finger forward and pressed down making a loud moan vibrate Brooke's frame.

"Mmmm Sam," the older girl grunted. "Keep talking...your voice..."

"It's sexy, I know," Sam joked although her tone dripped with arousal. She raised her free hand to trace the muscle that outlined Brooke's thigh, starting at her groin and going up; she then traced the outline she could feel of Brooke's abdomen, made firmer from helping Sam with her physical therapy and moving the unsteady girl around. She finally reached a pert breast and started pinching and tweaking the erect nipple that she'd encountered.

"You're so wet and tight, Brooke," she sighed happily. "I can feel your heartbeat through here." She added a second finger to the one thrusting inside the taller girl with deliberate strokes to emphasize her point. "I can hear your breathing changing, hitching in your throat as you moan."

"Sammmmmmmmmy," Brooke gasped, her voice a deep rumble that Sam felt with both sets of fingers.

"I can feel you getting wetter, hotter," Sam went on. She let her thumb drift up to brush against her girlfriend's throbbing clit and feeling her body jerk in response.

"I can tell by the way you sound, your cries and moans and gasps...the way you're starting to twitch inside and beginning to clench my fingers, you're close," Sam told her.

"Sammmm," Brooke keened. She'd already been letting every gasp and moan she felt erupt from her throat but the way Sam was telling her how she was experiencing their love making was causing her to want to scream in pleasure. It was almost like feeling it twice over.

Her hips were rocking back and forth as well as up and down, gaining momentum and making it feel like Sam was impossibly deep inside her. One of her hands was in her hair, pulling it in wanton desperation while the other one teased the nipple that Sam wasn't torturing with sharp pinches and twists that ratcheted her need that much higher.

"God, I wanna feel you cum," Sam rasped, letting her thumb press against Brooke's slick clit, circling the tip and then sliding down the side. She could feel Brooke's arousal pooling on her belly as it ran down her wrist and she loved the way it felt, knowing how she was making the girl she loved feel. Her own acute arousal was making her hips twitch upwards with each of Brooke's downward thrusts. But she was more interested in feeling Brooke climax at that moment in time.

"Saaaam-mmeee so...close..." Brooke cried, writhing on top of the other girl, needing to reach the edge so that she could jump off and let Sam catch her. Sam moved her hand faster, thrusting harder. And then she felt it; the moment of absolute stillness that heralded Brooke's orgasm.

"OHHH FUCK!" Brooke screamed, gasping as her climax soared through her, hot and powerful. Sam felt it in a different way; the rigid tightness around her fingers, clenching and releasing as moisture flooded her palm. Under the hand on Brooke's chest, she felt the rush of air outwards when the blonde screamed and how she was gasping.

She drifted that hand down to Brooke's abdomen, feeling the intense contracting of the muscles there, echoing the muscles deeper inside.

"Oh baby you feel so good," Sam coaxed, thrusting slower but trying to stretch out her girlfriend's pleasure. Her thumb was still slowly and gently stoking Brooke's twitching clit, making her whimper with each pass.

"Oh, damn, Sammy," Brooke breathed out, panting as it passed. She laid forward on top of the journalist, letting Sam readjust her wrist and slip reluctantly free. "That felt so good." She put her head on Sam's chest and tried to catch her breath.

"Felt good to me too," Sam chuckled loving the totally contented tone to Brooke's voice.

"Mmm, you wait a few minutes, Sam," Brooke growled. "Let me catch my breath and then I'll show you exactly how good that was."

TBC