Title: Changes
Author: Aeryn Sun
Email: willowrose_98@yahoo.com
Rating: R, I guess. For language and angst.
Spoilers: Any episode is fair game, I guess.
Series: Secrets universe.
Summary: Life after Secrets. How are Sam and Brooke dealing?
Couple: Sam/Brooke...maybe
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. Too young? Age quicker, it's fun here. Other than that, enter at your own risk, and enjoy.
Author's Notes: You have no one to blame for this but yourselves, you know.
Disclaimer: Not mine, they used to belong to Touchstone but who the heck knows now? Not making any profit otherwise I wouldn't be working at Wal-Mart.
Part One
Sam sat in the darkness of her room, curled up near the head of her bed shaking and crying. She'd had enough and just wanted to be left alone. She didn't want to deal anymore with people trying to talk to her or help her. The world could fly off its axis and crash into the sun for all she cared. She didn't care about much and that really didn't bother her. She knew it should but very little did.
Two months had passed since the final confrontation with George that had nearly killed her. While her physical injuries had healed nicely, her mental and emotional wounds were still fresh and raw. Despite the support of her friends and family, she felt isolated, misunderstood and alone. She hated feeling any of those things. She despised feeling vulnerable and that's exactly how George had made her feel and how he'd left her.
When she had finally returned to school, the stares and whispers in the hallway angered and hurt her. She didn't like being the object of what she perceived to be pity. She'd rather be ignored than pitied. And the questions that she was forced to field regarding how she could let George do the things he did she just found rude. She'd even won herself a three-day suspension for shoving April Tuna to the floor in anger. But it was no one's business but her own as far as she was concerned. Having the entire population of Kennedy High poking its collective nose into her private life was irritating and humiliating.
Brooke was by her side every step of they way, for which Sam was thankful. The first two weeks after the attack Sam spent in a state of euphoria. She was free of George, he was in a mental institution where he couldn't hurt her or Brooke again; and she had just heard Brooke confess to loving her as more than a friend or step sister. And she was pretty sure she loved Brooke as well. Their relationship stayed in the realm of new love/puppy love for those two weeks, never getting intimate because Brooke was giving Sam time to heal and get used to the relationship. Brooke was infinitely patient with Sam, knowing that the girl had lots of healing to do and not wanting to push. Sam was thankful for that and seemed to be making progress. And then the bottom dropped out on her.
It started as a small nagging doubt.
(Does Brooke really care for me or was she just trying to help me through this hard time?)
And then that thought spawned more.
(If Brooke doesn't really love me, who will after George? I'm damaged goods)
Depression slammed into Sam like a sledgehammer into a glass window and it shattered her all ready fragile self-image. She shut down, pulled away from Brooke and folded into herself. She was unwilling to let herself be hurt again, this time by Brooke's rejection. She found a lot of ways to justify her actions to herself everytime she saw the confused and hurt look on Brooke's face when she turned away.
(My feelings for Brooke aren't genuine. They come from my fear of being hurt by George and she made me feel safe. I mistook that for love. I don't want to hurt her if her feelings are genuine)
She used that argument a lot when she walked away from Brooke. On top of her concern for Brooke's feelings was her confusion over her sexuality.
(Am I gay? I never thought about it before. I mean, sure Brooke's beautiful and I feel something for her but is it love? And if it is, does that make me gay? Have I always been?)
This issue always left her more confused and upset than when she started. Not that she thought being gay was a bad thing, she was just terribly confused about the whole thing and felt she had no one to talk to, even Brooke. Not only did she let her boyfriend beat her nearly to death but there was a large possibility that she was gay as well. It was an awful lot to absorb as far as her self-image went. She was really beginning to wonder who the Hell she was because she had absolutely no clue anymore.
"Sam, you in there?" Brooke's concerned voice carried through the door. Sam sniffled but made no effort to answer the gentle inquiry.
"Sam, please unlock the door and let me in," she asked. Sam stared at the door but still made no effort to move.
"You can't stay in there forever," Brooke told her softly.
(I can try) Sam countered silently. Her room was her safe haven, the one place where the outside world couldn't reach her and she was loathe to leave it. Even through the door, she was able to hear the heavy sigh that came from Brooke. She felt a pang of guilt at causing the sound. Despite the emotional oasis she'd created for herself, Brooke was the one thing she still cared about.
"OK, suit yourself, Sammy, I won't push. But I'll be right next door if you need anything," she said. "I love you," the whisper came through the door and made the tears flow faster down Sam's face.
"Please don't," Sam said quietly so Brooke wouldn't hear as she heard Brooke's footsteps head towards the other bedroom. Things would be so much easier if emotions weren't so heavily involved. But they were. And she was worried about hurting Brooke. After all Brooke had done to help her throughout the George mess, the last thing Sam wanted was to thank Brooke by breaking her heart. That didn't seem fair.
Sam figured therapy would probably help, if she were at all cooperative in her sessions. But she spent more time admiring the patterns she could make out in the hideous carpeting than she did sharing her feelings with the therapist. She just wasn't comfortable telling a virtual stranger how she felt. She had a hard enough time admitting to herself how she felt most of the time and talking to someone she knew was only there because they were being paid to listen pissed her off and made her clam up. She had no interest in explaining herself to anyone, least of all someone she found to be rude, condecending and just a tiny bit clueless as to what went on in the real world.
She knew it annoyed Brooke that the therapy wasn't working. Honestly, Sam knew she needed to talk about George and everything that happened but she just wasn't ready to yet. She couldn't put into words the reasons why what happened happened and having someone poke and prod at her emotions made her surly. So she spent her time alone and crying in her room trying to figure out which end was up and piece herself back together. So far, she wasn't having any luck.
~~~~~
Brooke flopped down on her bed with a sad sigh. She just couldn't figure Sam out, again. For two wonderful weeks, Brooke had everything she dreamed; Sam and her love. And then Sam became someone else over the course of time and Brooke had no idea who that was. She was so withdrawn, even worse than when George was abusing her and Brooke had no idea how to reach her this time. Sam wouldn't even let her try. It was like Sam was purposely tuning Brooke out of her life and it hurt her. Deeply. She loved Sam with the very fiber of her being and to see Sam shutting down like this was painful and worrisome. Sam was obviously hurting very badly but she wouldn't accept anyone's help.
Brooke could see the darkness closing in around Sam and it scared her. She was afraid that if she was unable to reach Sam this time, that she was going to lose her for good. When George had been beating Sam, there was a pain in the girl's eyes tinged with fear. Now all Brooke saw when she looked into those beautiful brown pools was empty hopelessness. She wanted to just wrap her ams around Sam and protect her from whatever was hurting her but Sam wouldn't let her near enough to even offer.
Therapy had been a waste of money and time. Brooke had never seen anyone so stubborn and uncooperative in her entire life as Sam was in those joint sessions. She was snotty, sarcastic, rude and belligerent. And that was when Sam was in a good mood. Granted the therapist wasn't the best but Brooke felt that Sam's behavior was over the line and had called her on it only to have the attitude turned on her. That had not been a fun afternoon. Sam had of course apologized later before holing up in her room.
That worried Brooke. Sam barely came out of her room except to go to school and occasionally eat and Brooke missed her. They had spend nearly every minute of those two weeks after Sam was out of the hospital together, getting used to their relationship and Brooke longed for that closeness again. She missed the kisses and gentle touches they exchanged when no one was around. And she'd enjoyed the long talks and cuddles on the couch when they were home alone or in their rooms. It had never gone any further than snuggling and falling asleep wrapped around each other in each other's beds as much as Brooke wanted or dreamed otherwise. She was patient and wanted to give Sam time. Only now it seemed to Brooke that Sam was having her doubts.
Not that Brooke could blame her. Starting a relationship while in the middle of an emotional upheaval was never a wise idea. But she was positive that her feelings for Sam were strong enough to survive the trauma of Sam's doubts and she was almost sure that Sam would realize that her feelings were real as well. Almost. There was still the lingering fear that Sam would back out, that the stupid stigma attached to the label 'gay' would be too much for Sam to bear and she'd decide against the relationship. Brooke prayed that it wouldn't work out that way.
She wanted to help Sam in any way that she could but she was out of ideas. Sam wouldn't talk, she wouldn't even come out of her room. Brooke knew the more she pushed, the more Sam would pull away. And that was exactly what Brooke didn't want.
(How do you help someone who's made it clear that they don't want any help?) She knew she couldn't force Sam to talk or share with her. The only thing she could think to do was be patient, as she had been doing, and wait Sam out. Hopefully, Sam would eventually come around.
(Either that or I'm being hopelessly naive again) Brooke mused humorlessly. She had no illusions about how stubborn and emotionally guarded Sam could be. It was Sam's obstinence and desire to do what she thought was right that had kept the truth about her relationship with George and what he was doing to her a secret for so long. And it was that same streak of misplaced pride and need to protect those around her from herself that was causing Sam to close up now. Brooke understood Sam a lot better than Sam gave her credit for.
"How did everything go to shit so fast, Sammy?" Brooke wondered to her empty room. It was the closest she got to talking to Sam. Even at school Sam was a walking zombie, focused on class and not on the world around her. It was like she had blinders on and wasn't taking notice of the world that surrounded her anymore. She'd always admired Sam's focus and ability to become almost single-minded when researching something or trying to figure something out. But seeing it on a daily basis was disturbing. There was so much possibility in the world but Sam was missing out on it simply because she wouldn't take a look. And that made Brooke sad.
Brooke wanted nothing more than another chance to get her hands on George. She blamed him for the condition Sam was in mentally. She knew that he'd done a number on Sam mentally as well as physically and now she was left to pick up the pieces. She hated him for everything he'd done. Hate was an emotion Brooke was unfamiliar with but she felt it towards George. She couldn't wait for his day in court and her chance to submarine him. She was determined to make him pay anyway she could. If she had her way, he was never setting foot outside the padded cells of the mental hospital ever again. She knew that was unlikely but she'd see to it that he never came near Sam again.
She got changed for bed and made sure that the door to the bathroom was left open. She knew that Sam was having nightmares and wanted to be able to hear her if she cried out. Even with the doors to Sam's room locked, Brooke would hear her and find a way to reach her if Sam needed her. Still worried, Brooke settled into a light sleep.
Part Two
She could still feel his cold hands around her neck, tightening. Squeezing the life right out of her. Her lungs burned and her heart hammered in her chest to the point that she thought that it would explode. She could see stars swimming in the darkness that swarmed into her vision as George's enraged eyes burned into her. Her fear paralyzed her as he threw her roughly to the ground.
"Death is the easy way out for you, Sam," he growled. "You haven't suffered enough." Sam was unable to move as Brooke suddenly appeared to defend her and George turned his rage on her.
"I'll hurt you where you're most vulnerable, Sam," he taunted as he started to fight with Brooke. He was merciless on the cheerleader, hitting and kicking and leaving no opportunity for Brooke to battle back. Brooke whimpered and cried for him to stop, each sound cutting deep into Sam. Sam attempted to stumble to her feet to stop him.
"George, no!" she screamed as George viciously pummeled Brooke. George laughed and shoved Sam aside as she tried to block him from Brooke.
"I'm gonna kill her, Sam, and you can't stop me," he kept laughing. Brooke looked up at Sam, her face torn and bloody and her eyes begging.
"Hel…help me Sammy," she croaked. "Don't let him kill me." Sam lunged at George again but he just batted her away like an annoying bug. He grabbed Brooke again and Sam was powerless to do anything as he snapped the blonde's neck. Brooke's last word came out more as a sigh.
"Saaaaaaam," she whispered as she died. George turned to Sam with an evil smile and started to approach her with his bloody hands outstretched.
"You're fault, Sammy. All your fault," echoed in both George's voice and Brooke's. She opened her mouth to scream.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
~~~~~
"Easy, Sammy, easy," the gentle voice and strong arms eased Sam out of the horrific nightmare she was in. She allowed herself to settle for a minute or two in Brooke's familiar and safe embrace. She tried to regain control of her breathing and chase away the overwhelming sense of panic that was filling her. She pulled away from Brooke and curled up into a ball as the images continued to play in her mind's eye.
"Aw, don't pull away from me, Sammy," Brooke sighed. "I only want to help."
"I know," Sam whispered. "But I'm fine." Brooke shook her head.
"Judging by that scream, Sam, you are anything but fine," she countered gently. Sam frowned at her.
"How did you get in here? I locked my doors." Brooke gave her a half-smile.
"There are ways around locks, Sam," she explained patiently. "Besides, I've lived in this house my whole life. I know it top to bottom." Sam shrugged.
"Whatever," she said. Brooke watched as Sam collapsed in on herself again. She nudged Sam's shoulder for her attention.
"What were you dreaming about?" she asked. She wanted to know what made Sam scream like that and she wanted to keep Sam talking. Actually, she knew why Sam screamed but she wanted Sam to vocalize the nightmare. Sam shrugged one shoulder and tilted her head.
"Nothing," she lied. Brooke rolled her eyes.
"Sounded like something to me," she prodded gently. Sam ground her teeth together and stared at Brooke.
"Let it go, please? I don't feel like talking about it."
"Sam, I heard you screaming bloody murder down the hall clear as day. You need to talk about this. You won't talk about it to the shrink, please talk to me at least."
"Brooke stop pushing me," Sam snapped. She pulled further away and crawled under her covers again, ignoring Brooke completely. She kind of hoped Brooke would get the hint and leave. But instead, Brooke curled up beside her. Sam didn't have the energy to ask her to leave.
"I'm not pushing you, Sam," Brooke said softly. "I've given you time and space and been understanding but you're not helping me in return. I only want to help you. I love you."
"Please stop saying that," Sam begged her voice catching. Brooke hitched in a breath.
"Why, Sammy? Don't you believe me?" she asked almost in tears. She didn't understand how things could have gotten so bad so fast.
"I don't know what I believe anymore," Sam admitted honestly. "I just know that it's too much for me right now." Brooke nodded against Sam's back in understanding. As much as it hurt, if it would help Sam in some little way she could do that much for her.
"OK, Sam. If you need me to stop saying it for now, I will. But I won't stop feeling it," Brooke agreed reluctantly as she tried not to cry. Sam was quiet for several minutes.
"Are you leaving?" she finally asked.
"Nope."
"OK."
~~~~~
Brooke was keeping a close eye on the depressed brunette. She was worried that Sam was going to do something drastic. As concerned as she was about Sam's mental state during the whole George thing, now that it was over the aftermath was even more frightening. Sam was pushing herself further and further away from those around her, isolating herself emotionally. It was a dangerous place to be.
She had a lot of faith in Sam and Sam's coping abilities but everyone had a limit as to what they could handle. She knew Sam was at her limit and was afraid of what that meant. Not that she was directly worried about suicide. There were other things that Sam could resort to that Brooke's mind was all too able to think of. Drugs, drinking, cutting, running away, the list went on for as long as Brooke was able to come up with bad ideas. Even the idea that Sam would turn away from a safe relationship with her and end up in a new abusive one with someone else had occurred to Brooke. She didn't want any of these things to happen. She wanted Sam to heal and become a stronger person. And she knew it was possible if only Sam would let someone help her through this.
She was still holding Sam as they lay trying to sleep. But nightmares kept Sam from sleeping soundly and kept Brooke awake as well. Sam shook and whimpered and occasionally begged George to leave Brooke alone. It broke Brooke's heart to hear the sounds coming from the girl she loved so much. She wanted to wake Sam from her private Hell but she also knew Sam needed what sleep she could get. And she didn't cry out like she did earlier either, so Brooke let her be.
She knew the scream earlier had something to do with George attacking her while Sam was forced to watch. She didn't need to be a brain surgeon to figure that out. Sam had already admitted once that that was one of her greatest fears and George's favorite threats. She felt oddly guilty that Sam was still suffering because of her. All that time that George used Brooke as leverage for Sam's silence traumatized Sam. Even free of George himself, Sam was still a prisoner to his threats. Again Brooke entertained herself with visions of beating George with a wooden baseball bat.
"Brooke?" Sam whispered groggily as she shifted slightly. Brooke brushed some of Sam's unruly dark hair away from her face.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you still here?" Sam asked innocently. Brooke frowned. It struck her as a strange question.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she responded. Sam sighed.
"I just figured you'd get bored," Sam explained quietly. "Watching me sleep can't be exciting."
"I enjoy it Sammy," Brooke assured her. "I like taking care of you."
"You don't have to."
"Sam," Brooke started slowly. "I don't do anything I don't want to. I care for you; I want to be with you. I want to take care of you for as long as you need me to. Please let me help you, Sammy." Sam let out a frustrated huff.
"There's nothing to help, I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep," she snapped. Not knowing what else to do, Brooke dropped a gentle kiss on Sam's shoulder and felt her shiver in response.
"The nightmares won't let you," Brooke said plainly.
"No," Sam sobbed. She rolled over to face Brooke. "Why won't he leave me alone?" Brooke wrapped her arms around Sam and held on tightly to the shaking form.
"I don't know, Sammy. You're so closed up and won't talk that it has to work itself out somehow. Maybe your dreams are the only way that it can find," Brooke pondered out loud. Sam sniffled.
"Whatever," she muttered. She really wasn't in the mood to be psychoanalyzed by the school's head cheerleader. She knew Brooke cared and that was part of the problem. She didn't want Brooke to care; she didn't want anyone to care. The darkness inside her was growing and she didn't want anyone else getting swallowed by it, least of all Brooke.
Sam knew Brooke had a habit of letting her heart lead her instead of her head sometimes. It made her endearing, but it also made her unpredictable as well. She knew Brooke only meant well, but because emotions ruled the girl, Brooke would be less likely to let it go if she thought Sam needed her. Sam didn't want to need her. She didn't want to bother Brooke or add to her problems. Besides, she really didn't feel she was worth the effort. Depression was fun that way.
She yawned and tried to pull away from Brooke. The blonde held on tightly and rubbed slow circles on Sam's back.
"Brooke," she complained softly.
"Go back to sleep, Sam. He can't hurt you anymore. You're safe," Brooke told her.
"But.."
"I'm not letting go," Brooke said firmly but lovingly. Sam sighed. That was what she was afraid of.
Part Three
Brooke shut her locker with more force than she intended. She was just frustrated to the extreme and it seemed like taking it out on the helpless locker was a better idea than taking it out on Sam or one of her friends. And healthier too. She was still trying, unsuccessfully to reach Sam and pull her out of the pit she was falling into. But nothing she tried to do seemed to help. Two weeks had passed since the night Sam had let out that blood-curling scream and since that night Brooke had either slept on the floor near Sam's bed or in the bed with her. Sam let her do that much at least. But even her presence hadn't been enough to chase away the demons haunting Sam.
She ran a hand through her hair and watched Sam at her own locker. The girl was stiff and lifeless. Her motions had no grace and her face no expression. She was a shadow of her former self and that person was getting harder and harder to reach with each passing day. Sometimes Brooke feared she'd never see `that' Sam again. Sam shut her locker, turned to Brooke and arched an eyebrow before shuffling aimlessly down the hallway. Brooke sighed. She didn't know what to do anymore. She watched as a familiar short and tempermental blonde rounded the corner into Sam's path and she winced.
(God, the last thing Sam needs right now is a confrontation with Nicole) she noted. She watched as Nicole's mouth turned up into a snarl and her lips moved but the duo was too far away for Brooke to hear what was being said. Sam's back was to her but from the way Nicole's eyes lit up, Brooke knew Sam had responded to whatever barb Nicole had just stuck her with. Nicole struck again,this time using hand gestures and Brooke watched as Sam's shoulders began to shake a bit. Not wanting it to get out of hand, Brooke walked over.
"…amazing you can sit with a stick that far up your ass," was the tail end of Sam's hissed response. Brooke was glad, in a way, it was the most emotion she'd heard from Sam in a while. Nicole grinned ferally.
"Really? Well, coming from someone who got off letting their boyfriend kick the shit out of them, that's rich," Nic mocked. Brooke glared at her friend.
"Nicole, that's enough!" she warned. Nicole turned to the taller blonde.
"Hi, Brookie," she said with false sweetness. "Is it? I think Spam here is old enough to speak for herself, don't you?" She turned back to the irate journalist. "Tell me Spam, is that enough? Or would you like to tell me how you liked it when George hit you? How you liked playing the meek damsel that Brookie here had to save?"
"SHUT UP!" Sam screamed, her eyes almost red with rage and hurt. "You have NO idea what you're talking about!" Nicole took a step closer to the enraged girl.
"Then tell me, Sam," she said, this time quieter, almost in a whisper. "Enlighten me." Sam shoved her roughly out of the way and stalked down the hall.
"Go to Hell where you belong, Satan," she spat as she retreated. Once Sam was out of sight, Brooke turned on Nicole angrily.
"Where the Hell do you get off talking to her like that?" she demanded to know. Nicole arched an eyebrow and held up a hand to stop the coming tirade from the head cheerleader.
"B, let me explain," she started. Brooke ignored her.
"Explain? Explain what? How you get your sick freaking jollies hurting Sam like that? God, Nic, I knew you could be a heartless bitch sometimes but that was low even for you," Brooke accused. Nic flinched a bit at the venom in Brooke's voice.
"Brooke, calm down. You and I need to talk. I can explain that," she gave Brooke an imploring look that Brooke had never seen before. "Honest, B, give me a chance." Brooke nodded.
"Fine, but it had better be good," she said coldly.
She followed Nicole into the Novak. After Nic chased two unsuspecting girls out of the room with some rather caustic comments that were probably going to cause them to need therapy later in life, the two cheerleaders sat down on the plush couch.
"Start talking, Nicole," Brooke prompted. Nicole nodded.
"You're going to lose her," Nicole said simply to start. Brooke jumped and stared at her.
"What?" she asked confused. Nicole sighed.
"Spam. You're going to lose her within herself if you don't do something soon, Brooke. She's shutting down," Nicole explained plainly. Brooke shook her head.
"So? I know that but that doesn't explain why you attacked her like that. You said some pretty awful things," she pointed out.
"I know and believe it or not, I'm not proud of that. But admit it, Sam has shut off her emotions. Nothing gets to her right?" Brooke nodded.
"Trust me, Brooke, this is one thing I know about. When someone shuts down like that, sometimes the only way to reach them is to make them angry. Force them to feel something in order to get to them."
"But that was so mean, Nic," Brooke protested.
"I know it was, Brooke. But you've been trying the nice and patient and the 'I'll be right here if you need me' route haven't you?" Again Brooke nodded.
"And it's not working is it?" Brooke shook her head mutely in defeat. "Well, then, your only option is to piss her off. And anger is the one thing Sam is feeling right now. And fear. Use that, Brooke. Make her angry. Make her lash out at you," Nicole advised. A few tears ran down Brooke's face.
"That's too much like what George did. I won't do that to her," she argued. Nicole shook her head.
"George did it for control, Brooke. He wanted to control Sam, he got his kicks hurting her. And by doing so, he's twisted her completely around to the point that she isn't sure of anything anymore. What you need to do is make her angry enough to see what's going on with the people around her."
"But that'll hurt us both," she complained.
"For now, yes. But what will hurt more, Brooke? A few lousy words or losing Sam forever?" Nicole asked softly. Brooke stared at her in shock.
"What do you mean by that?" Brooke whispered, horrified by the mere thought.
"Look, I'm not sure what's going on between you two. I have a pretty good idea and I'm not going to pretend to like it either," Nicole declared with a hint of coldness creeping into her tone. "But I'll let it go for now. If you don't find a way to pull her away from the edge of the abyss she's standing at, Brooke, she's going to fall in and you'll lose her. I don't know if that means she'll kill herself or what but the Sam you know and I hate will be gone for good. I may not like her but for your sake I don't want to see that happen."
"So what do I do?" Brooke asked, lost. Nicole shrugged.
"Be persistant. Knock on those walls she's constructed around herself. Hell, use dynamite if you have to but Brooke, if you don't stop her now, grab on tight and don't let go, it'll be too late," Nicole warned her. Brooke buried her face in her hands as hopelessness and helplessness washed over her.
"I don't know what to do anymore," she weeped. Nicole rubbed her back.
"You used to fight with her all the time, B. It was as easy as breathing. Hell, I think you used to enjoy it. But now you're afraid to because you don't want to push her away. She's all ready pushing away so don't worry about that. Shove back, Brooke. Make her see she's not the only one hurting or afraid here, OK?" she explained. Brooke sniffed and nodded. She looked up at Nicole and gave her a watery smile.
"How come you know so much?" she asked. Nicole shrugged nonchalantly.
"I know everything. It's just no one ever listens," she said as she buffed her nails on her shirt. Brooke smirked. Some things never changed.
"Thanks Nicole," Brooke said.
"Don't mention it. Ever."
~~~~~
Sam was livid. Actually, she was so far past livid she doubted there was a word for how she felt at the moment. Nicole's words had set fire to her insides and she was burning alive. She walked straight out the doors of the school, out past the track and kept going. She didn't know where she was going and furthermore she didn't care. She just had to get away from the pain and anger that were draped around her like a cloak.
She looked at her watch and realized she'd been walking for almost two hours. She had only a rough idea where she was. (Oh, that was swift, Sammy) she scolded herself. (Paint a target on your back, you dolt) She knew Brooke would be upset with her for disappearing and she felt slightly guilty for that. She hated making Brooke worry for nothing and that seemed to be all she did lately. She felt like such a burden to Brooke. First she got her wrapped up in the whole George thing and now the gentle blonde was caught up in her depression as well. She felt like a dead weight around Brooke's neck, dragging her under.
(She'd really be better off without me) she reasoned. The other half of her brain shouted at her to buy a clue but she ignored it. She kind of liked the dark place she inhabited lately. It was lonely but if she could manage to pull it off, when she was finished, there would be no one left for her to hurt. And that was her ultimate goal. She didn't want to hurt anyone else ever again.
She was still lost in thought and her anger when Brooke's car appeared by her side.
"Are you absolutely insane, Sam? You shouldn't be out here by yourself, get in the car," she said shortly. Sam stopped walking and glared at the blonde.
"Go away," she snapped.
"Get in the car," Brooke repeated firmly. Sam frowned at the tone Brooke was using.
"Go to Hell, Brooke."
"All ready there. Get in the freaking car so we can go home," Brooke ordered, every word cutting her deep in the heart. She hated using the 'bitch' voice on Sam. She felt like a hypocrite for behaving the way she was but she saw the point that Nicole had been trying to make. As much as Brooke hated herself for sounding like George at the moment, it was the only way to reach through to Sam.
Sam got in the car and slammed the door behind her.
"Happy now?" she asked snidely as Brooke pulled back out into traffic.
"Not really," Brooke answered absently. "Why did you take off like that? I've been going nuts trying to find you."
"I got tired of Satan and her insane rantings, OK? God, who appointed you my guardian lately?" Sam questioned, despising herself for her hurtful words. Especially when she saw the flicker of pain flash across Brooke's face. But Sam was on a mission to push Brooke away before she got any closer. It would be kinder, more humane to let Brooke go now rather than later.
"Sam, I care for you. I don't want to see you hurt. I know Nic said some awful things and she apologized for them. She's just worried about you. We all are," Brooke explained.
"Satan, worried about me? That's a joke," Sam laughed bitterly.
"Sam, stop it. We are worried about this game you're playing. Stop pulling away," Brooke asked her.
"Oh get off of it, Brooke. I'm not playing any games and I'll behave the way I want to."
"Sam, you're not the only one hurting here, or scared. You can't keep pushing everyone away. It's not healthy," Brooke told her her voice almost beggin Sam to let her help.
"Whatever I do or don't do, Brooke, is my choice," Sam pointed out. Brooke sighed heavily and nodded reluctantly.
"Yes, it is. But it is my choice not to let you go, Sammy. And I won't. I care too much." She turned her head slightly to look at Sam. "Things were going so good, Sammy. What happened with us?" Sam was silent for a few minutes and then shrugged without ever meeting Brooke's gaze. She really didn't have an answer. They finished the rest of the ride to the Palace in silence.
Part Four
I am the darkness
The darkness is me
There is no light
And I can not see
I've been swallowed whole
By the void within
Razors of pain
Rip away my skin
Sam sat back and reviewed the words she'd written on her laptop. She was supposed to be working on an article about the swim team for the school paper but she wasn't interested in doing it. Instead she had written the first words that had popped into her head.
(Well, I'm certainly no poet) she laughed bitterly. It wasn't the best thing she'd ever read but it did sum up the way she felt. She felt like she was drowning within her own skin. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe and couldn't escape the overpowering feeling of hopelessness that was dragging her under. All of it together was serving to make her very angry.
She slammed the laptop shut and stood up to pace around her room. She wanted out of the entire situation she found herself in in the worse way. She wanted the pain and confusion left over from her relationship from George to end. She wanted the anger and agony in her chest to stop filling her every moment. But more than that, she wanted better for Brooke. It was killing her that Brooke was being so patient and caring while she couldn't return the favor. She did care for Brooke, she just knew that the special blonde could do so much better for herself than the damaged goods that she was settling for.
Even now she could hear George's voice taunting her with his mocking words. Telling her how worthless and ugly she was; how she was never going to be good enough for anyone and that she was lucky to have him. She hated herself for believing him then and she hated herself even more for still believing it now.
She felt the anger burning in her chest, spreading through her body like a wildfire. She started to pant, her breath coming in short gasps as George's voice echoed in her head, bouncing around her brain. She ground her teeth together and put her hands to her ears in a futile attempt to shut him out.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up," she chanted in a growl. Finally, with a frustrated grunt, she lashed out with her fist and connected with the wall. Pain flared through her knuckles and traveled up her hand and arm before settling in her shoulder. It stopped there and throbbed in time with her rapid heartbeat. She opened her eyes, which had been clenched tightly shut and let out a deep breath.
"Shit," she cursed looking at her hand that was all ready turning red. But strangely her head felt clearer. Her anger faded to the back of her mind and she felt better. She also absently noted a dent in the wall where her hand had connected and was proud of herself.
"Sam? You OK? I heard a loud thump," Brooke said as she came into the room from the bathroom. Sam turned to glare at her as she walked in.
"I'm fine," she snapped as she went over towards her bed. Brooke frowned at her and then noticed a dent in the wall where Sam had been standing. She knew immediately what had happened and it scared her. She didn't like the thought of Sam doing harm to herself. The fact that the brunette's anger had gotten the better of her was alarming.
"Did you do that?" she asked quietly, pointing to the dent. Sam looked at her boredly and shrugged.
"What if I did?" she responded snottily. Brooke sighed.
"Why?" Sam rolled her eyes.
"Really BIG bug," she retorted holding her hands a foot apart for emphasis. Brooke was not amused.
"It's not funny, Sam. You can't take your anger out like that, you'll hurt yourself," Brooke explained.
"Oh, go preach to someone who gives a damn, will you? You're starting to get on my nerves," Sam spat. Brooke felt her own anger well up at Sam's hurtful words.
"Grow up, you self-centered baby!" she shouted at Sam who jumped in surprise. "You think you're the only one George hurt? You're not, Sam. He did a number on all of us."
"Bullshit! He beat ME, Brooke. Not you, ME. And I let him, damn it."
"You were trying to protect me," Brooke argued. Sam shook her head.
"Whatever. Point is that I still let him. And you know what else? He was right, it was no less than I deserved," Sam told her bitterly. Brooke stared at her in shock.
"How the Hell do you figure that?" she asked stupified.
"He was right, Brooke. Everything he said was the truth. I'm a worthless piece of crap," Sam explained sadly, defeated. Brooke just stared at her.
"Again, why? God, how can you even think that?" Sam frowned.
"It's the truth," she said as if that was all one needed to know to understand. "He had to have a reason to beat me, Brooke." Brooke took a step closer to Sam and sighed when Sam backed away. It was further proof of how far away Sam was pulling and it hurt and worried Brooke to witness the descent.
"He has problems, Sammy, that's the reason. It was nothing you ever did."
"Look at how I'm screwing everything up, Brooke. God, this is all my fault," she claimed. Brooke shook her head.
"No, it's not. You can't think that way or you'll destroy yourself." Sam waved her hand at Brooke to stop any further conversation and Brooke saw that the other girls' knuckles were beginning to swell.
"Jesus, Sammy, let's get some ice on that," she said softly. Sam looked at her hand and shrugged.
"Huh, I don't even feel it," she said in a faraway tone, examining the hand like it wasn't even hers. Brooke led her to the bathroom and ran the hand under cold water. She left Sam there and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack.
"Here, put this on it," she advised. Sam complied quietly. "Are you going to tell me why you did that?" Brooke asked again. Sam sighed. She didn't want to tell but figured that Brooke wasn't going to let it go until she did. And Sam wasn't strong enough emotionally to fight the persistant cheerleader at the moment.
"I keep hearing him," she said admitting outloud her private torture. She looked at Brooke with her eyes full of confusion and pain. "I hear him, dream about him. It's like I'm never going to be free," she complained. Brooke's face fell and she reached out to brush Sam's hair out of her eyes.
"I wish I knew what to do to help," Brooke whispered. Sam frowned at her.
"I wish you'd stop trying so hard," she answered.
"Why?" Brooke asked concerned.
"Brooke, you can do better than me. Thanks to George I'm damaged goods. Go find someone better suited to you."
"Sammy, you're who I want. Why can't you believe that?" Brooke wondered softly.
"Cuz I can't shake the thought that your feelings for me are only caused by your concern. That you don't really feel for me what you say you do as much as you're just trying to help me through the whole George thing," Sam said in a rush. Brooke felt the tears begin to fall down her cheeks and sat down heavily on the tub.
"But my feelings for you ARE real, Sam. I love you," she declared. Sam flinched as if hit.
"So you say," she snorted. "George used to say the same thing. And then he'd hit me. Are you going to hit me?" she mocked. Brooke's eyes widened and she looked at Sam with hurt evident on her face.
"I'd never lay a hand on you in that way," she said lowly through her tears, barely able to speak past the lump of hurt in her throat. "But if that's how little you think of me, I think you need to take another look at the situation because you don't know me at all."
"You know? I don't think I do," Sam laughed sarcastically. She had just found the way to push Brooke away and she was going to use it no matter how much it hurt the both of them. Brooke's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked suspiciously.
"I don't think I know you. I certainly had no idea that you were gay or bi or whatever until the whole George thing," she explained, gathering speed and ammunition. "How am I supposed to believe that you have all these deep meaningful feelings for me when I never had any indication before that?"
"How do I know that this isn't just some pity thing? You probably don't love me as much as you feel sorry for me," every word she said to Brooke was destroying another piece of what was left of her soul but for both their sakes, she couldn't stop now. Sam saw this as the only way to save the both of them from herself.
"Sam..." Brooke started, the tears running down her face coming faster as Sam continued.
"And as for how I feel for you? Well, honestly, how do we know that I'm not clinging to you because you're the only one I feel safe around? That's not love, Brooke, that's co-dependency." As she spoke, Sam's tone turned cold and condecending. Brooke fought to keep from vomiting on the floor at Sam's harsh tone. But Sam's words were killing her. She did love Sam with everything she had. She was just out of ideas on how to make Sam understand that.
"Sam, please stop," she begged unable to hear anymore. Sam shook her head.
"No. It's the truth, Brooke. You don't love me and I don't love you. At least not in THAT way. Don't get me wrong, you're a great friend and all but I'm not IN love with you." Brooke stood up and blindly stumbled towards her room, her tears obscuring her vision.
"Enough, I can't...I can't listen anymore," she wept. Sam arched an eyebrow at her.
"Truth hurts, huh?" she mocked even as her heart twisted in her chest at her own words. Brooke managed to glare at her.
"You're a mean, spiteful, hurtful bitch sometimes, you know that?" she asked as she ran for her room, slammed the door and dissolved completely into tears. Sam leaned into the bathroom wall and sighed.
"Yeah, unfortunately, I know," she mumbled to the empty room.
Part Five
Brooke had cried herself to sleep the night before and had no interest in getting up in the morning. She felt horrible, like someone had run her over with a steamroller in one of those Loony Tunes cartoons. She did not appreciate relating to Wil E. Coyote in that sense. Chasing after Sam only to have her smack her between the eyes with what was essentially the equivalent of an emotional 2x4 was excruciating and in Brooke's opinion, unfair. The whole situation was basically George's fault and yet here she was suffering the consequences of his actions while he sat happily in his little padded cell. It made her want to hurt him all the more. He had done more damage to Sam than Brooke had initially realized and now she was seeing for herself how deep the wounds went.
She knew intellectually what Sam was doing, pushing her away as a form of protection. But emotionally she couldn't help but be hurt by it. Sam's words had been full of fire and meaning whether Sam had meant them or not. Given that words were Sam's forte, she'd used them to her full advantage the night before. Brooke felt like someone had scrubbed her nerve endings raw and dipped her in salt she hurt so bad. All she wanted was to pull Sam out of her emotional mire and Sam had lashed out at her.
With a thick sigh, Brooke rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. She noticed that the door to Sam's room was closed. She tried the handle and wasn't surprised to find it locked. She went about her morning routine, showered and changed her clothes before heading down the stairs. She encountered Jane in the kitchen.
"Morning Brooke," Jane greeted her quietly. Brooke nodded and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "How's Sam doing?" she asked concerned. Brooke shrugged and sat down.
"I don't know. She won't talk to me," she sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
"She won't talk to anyone. I'm really worried about her," Jane said softly.
"I'm doing everything I can, Mom. She's not making it easy though," Brooke admitted. Jane looked at her sadly.
"Your father and I, well, we're worried about her. She won't accept help and we don't want to see her do something foolish. She won't cooperate in therapy so we've discussed maybe something more drastic," Jane explained. Panic flashed through Brooke at what that could mean.
(Oh no! They're not seriously thinking of locking Sammy up, are they?)
"You can't!" Brooke announced forcefully much to Jane's surprise. "You can't just lock Sammy up and expect her to get better that way! You can't just throw her away like a broken toy!"
"Whoa, calm down, honey. I didn't mean locking Sam up in an institution. At least not yet. No, I was referring to medication for her for now. To see if it helped," Jane explained softly, surprised at the level of ferociousness in Brooke's defense of Sam. Brooke shook her head.
"Even that might not do any good. She's uncooperative for a reason. Do you really think handing her a bunch of 'Get Happy Pills' is going to fix things?" Brooke spat. She hated the idea of medicating Sammy and putting the poor girl even further down. The medication, while it might be helpful if done right, might also totally change what was left of Sam's personality and Brooke didn't want that. She wanted to work at helping Sam, reach her another way and not just throw a prescription at the problem and hope it went away.
"Brooke," Jane started patiently in the tone parents reserved for particularly thickheaded children. "She's becoming a danger to herself. Something has to be done." Brooke threw her arms up in frustration.
"That is just like a parent!" she yelled. "You don't understand what's going on with your teenager so rather than try to fix it, rather than try and understand her, you look for an easy out! God, I thought you were better than that, Mom." Jane scowled at her.
"I AM 'better than that', Brooke. I just don't want to lose my daughter. I'm afraid she's going to commit suicide or something," Jane admitted. Brooke paled.
"I wouldn't let her," the blonde declared in a low voice heavy with an unspoken promise. Jane sighed. She could see that she wouldn't be getting any help from Brooke on this.
"Fine, Brooke. I'll give her a little longer to come around. But if she doesn't soon, we're going to have to have this conversation again. Only next time with Sam." Brooke nodded and headed back upstairs without another word.
~~~~~
Sam lay in her bed thinking. She had heard Brooke try her door handle and then leave and she also heard the angry voices from downstairs. She knew without a doubt that the argument was about her. She was ruining everything. Now Brooke and their parents were starting to fight. She swallowed the guilty sob that rose up and cut off her air as she realized that she was destroying everyone's life.
And her words to Brooke the night before served to haunt her as well. She regretted every vowel and consonent that had passed from her lips and the pain that had so obviously painted Brooke's beautiful face. She knew she was hurting Brooke in her own efforts to distance them from each other and she hated herself for it. She never would want to hurt Brooke but didn't want to destroy her either. Sam was beginning to see that it was a lose/lose situation. Either way, Brooke was going to get hurt.
(I am just more trouble than I'm worth) Sam figured silently. (George should have just finished the job he started) She sighed and flexed her sore hand. It was an ugly purplish black color where she'd hit the wall the night before. She knew that her actions had been stupid but it had made her feel marginally better. She thought about what else would make her feel better and rolled over. She pulled the hidden flask out from under her bed and twisted the top off.
(The answers to my problems will not be found in the bottom of a bottle) she reminded herself. (But maybe it can chase the pain away. At least for a little while)
She knew Brooke would be disappointed if she knew that she drank but Sam had no intention of telling her. She'd gotten away with it so far, why stop now? She winced as the first bite of the hard liquor burned its way down her throat to her stomach. Without any food in her system, she could feel the slow burn all the way down to where it stopped in her belly. Eventually, as she continued drinking, it settled into a comforting warmth that she enjoyed. Soon, it spread into her muscles and lulled her into a deep sleep.
~~~~~
Brooke was getting worried. Sam hadn't come down for any meals all day and it was after dinner. She had heard the brunette moving around her room at one point but Sam had yet to emerge. She thought about her talk with Jane and knew that she was going to have to break through Sam's defenses soon or it was medication city for her.
She knocked on the door and received a muffled 'go away' for her efforts. Brooke let out a heavy sigh and used her handy screwdriver to jimmie open Sam's door. Sam was lying on her bed, tangled in the sheets an absolute mess. Her hair was askew, she was unshowered and still in her pjs. She glared at Brooke with eyes rimmed in unnatural red and her face ghastly pale.
"Whaddu want?" she asked angrily. Brooke frowned at the question and approached the bed.
"I want to talk," she responded evenly. Sam arched an eyebrow and huffed.
"Well, I don', so go away," she commanded still lying prone on the bed. By now Brooke could smell the telltale trace of alcohol on Sam and resisted the urge to both cry and slap the girl. Neither would solve their problems. She sat down on the bed and winced internally as Sam pulled herself away.
"Sam, this has to stop," she said patiently. Sam scowled at her and pulled her covers towards her head.
"I said I don' wanna talk, now leave!" she yelled, yanking the covers up like a two year old. Brooke gave a good pull on the covers exposing Sam's head again.
"Tough, because we're going to talk," Brooke declared, her voice turning harder. "You won't talk to me about what's wrong but you'll drink yourself into oblivion instead? Nice solution, brainiac."
"Fuck off, you bottle blonde, self-righteous jack ass," Sam spat back. Brooke pursed her lips as Sam's words hit home.
"I'm a natural blonde, thank you," she said dryly. "Self-righteous? Sometimes. Jackass? Maybe. But at least I'm willing to talk to people about what's on my mind unlike you. You're a self-centered baby."
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Sam tried to roll away from Brooke but was stopped by a pair of strong arms.
"First off, you need a shower and to sober up, you jerk," Brooke hissed, yanking Sam up harshly. She almost kicked herself when Sam automatically cringed in her grasp and waited to be hit.
"I'm not going to hit you, Sammy," she said quietly. Sam was still stiff in her arms, all her former trust in Brooke gone. Brooke swallowed a sob and dragged a reluctant but silent Sam to the bathroom and put her under the shower, clothes and all. She turned the water on warm and let it soak Sam. Sam put up a mild protest but then fell silent again. Brooke wasn't sure that was a good sign. She turned the water on cold to get a reaction from Sam.
"Jesus, are you insane?" Sam shouted leaping out of the tub shaking. Brooke said nothing but handed her a towel and then some dry pajamas. She waited outside the room while Sam changed and then came sulking back into the room.
"I hate you," Sam growled. Brooke visibly flinched at the words and couldn't stop the single tear from falling down her face.
"Fine, go ahead," she said quietly. "But I still love you."
"Stop SAYING that!" Sam yelled. "You do not! You don't love anyone but yourself. You're incapable of loving anyone who's not perfect and beautiful and well, YOU!" Brooke shook her head sadly.
"You really don't know me, do you? You spent all that time saying I was a self centered bitch because you really believed it. I'm shocked, Sam. I thought you knew me better than that. Love isn't something that I just throw around indicriminately. It's a very powerful word and shouldn't be taken lightly. I love you. Yes, as a friend. But also deeper than that, Sam. I'm in love with you with everything thing I am. Everything that makes me me, loves YOU." Sam looked at her dubiously.
"You wouldn't be saying that if George hadn't beat me nearly to death. You just feel responsible for me. You pity me," she argued.
"No, I don't. I HATE George for what he did. If I could pay him back by making him suffer like you did, I would," Brooke countered forcefully. Sam scoffed at her.
"Really, Brooke, I'm supposed to believe that YOU, homecoming queen and Miss Perfection herself, is gay? Tell me another bedtime story," she said condecendingly repeating the argument that had worked so well the night before in pushing Brooke away. Brooke saw it for what it was, Sam trying to get rid of her and tried a different way to explain herself to Sam.
"You shouldn't stereotype people, Sam, it's unfair. I never told anyone that I was gay. I was determined NOT to be, that's why I dated Josh as long as I did. That's why I slept with him and then later Harrison. I kept thinking that if I just acted normally it would go away. But it didn't and my feelings for you grew," Brooke confessed softly. "I have cared for you, loved you for a long time now. Even before George. I swear to you that that is the truth, Sam."
"Whatever. It doesn't matter now," Sam sighed as she lay back down on her bed. She was disappointed that her ploy hadn't worked this time. Brooke frowned at her.
"Why, Sam? Why doesn't it matter?" she asked, alarm creeping into her voice and a cold chill creeping up her spine. Sam played her last card.
"Because it's too late, now. And I don't love you."
Part Six
("Because it's too late, now. And I don't love you.")
Those words echoed and bounced around Brooke's head making her physically ill as she sat on the floor of the bathroom. She hadn't been able to go to school that morning, her head hurt too bad and her stomach felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside. She had no idea that words could make you hurt so bad but Sam had done a really good job on her. After speaking those horrid ten words, the depressed brunette had simply crawled under her covers again and ignored Brooke's very existance. Brooke had sat there stunned and wounded. She knew Sam hadn't really meant the words but they hurt all the same. Unable to form a response, she'd stumbled to her own room and collapsed.
Enduring days of repeated emotional stress was taking its toll on Brooke but as bad as she felt she couldn't help but worry about how bad Sam must feel. Sam was lashing out in anyway she could to try and keep herself from getting hurt again. Brooke was aware of that but it didn't make the situation any easier. She loved Sam so much it hurt but she didn't know how to help her. She was starting to realize that Nicole was right and the nice, polite approach wasn't going to cut it this time.
But she was afraid of doing more harm to Sam like George had. Sam was so fragile right now that the wrong push was going to shatter her. But if something wasn't done soon, Sam would disappear, simply cease to exist as she once had. Brooke wasn't stupid, she knew that Sam was drinking and it upset her. She didn't want Sam medicated but didn't want Sam to resort to self-medication either. Something had to be done and soon.
She heard Sam walking around in her room, another refugee call out from school that day and decided that it was time for a little tough love. Whether either of them liked it or not. Sam had already pushed her away, hard, so Brooke figured, sadly, that she had nothing left to lose. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror, gathering her courage before she walked to Sam's door and stepped in.
"Ever hear of knocking?" Sam snapped. "It's considered polite manners in some circles." Brooke walked futher into the room, crossed her arms and glared at the brunette that she loved so much.
"I think we're past the point of manners, Sam," she retorted in a low voice, letting her hurt fuel her. She wasn't going to enjoy this but she wanted Sam to see how bad SHE was hurting. "You've made damn sure of that." Sam arched an eyebrow at her.
"Wanna speak English, Queenie? I don't do vapid cheerleader."
"You smart mouthed little bitch," Brooke snapped as Sam's words burned in her chest. She hated thinking that Sam had such a low opinion of her. "Go ahead, hide behind your words you coward. It's what you do best." Sam looked at her in shock for a second and then smirked.
"Oh, the cat DOES have claws. I was wondering how long it'd take," she said boredly. Brooke frowned.
"What would take?" she asked.
"For you to show your true colors," Sam explained. "For your supposed 'love' for me to give way to the true emotion underneath. The responsibility and pity you feel for me, that's all. I knew that was all it was."
"YOU KNOW NOTHING!" Brooke screamed in a near rage. Sam jumped involuntarily and backed away from the upset blonde. Images of George coming at her filled her mind and she felt herself start to hyperventilate.
"Sam," Brooke ground out between clenched teeth as she noticed Sam's reaction to the rise in volume. "Stop putting words in my mouth or second guessing my emotions. Whether you like it or not, I DO love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But this has got to stop..."
"I don't love you..." Sam interjected defensively. Brooke flinched and tried to hold off the wave of tears that threatened to fall at those simple words. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
"OK, then, don't. Just be my friend. But as my friend and soon to be stepsister, PLEASE stop doing this to yourself. Sam, you didn't do anything wrong. George was the one who was wrong. You were an innocent victim here. You didn't ask him to do what he did. You didn't walk up to George and beg him to beat you, to nearly kill you. It isn't your fault," Brooke tried to convince her.
"But I did nothing to stop it. So Nicole is right, on some level I must have wanted it, liked it," Sam said quietly. Brooke felt her stomach churn.
"NO! Nicole was just trying to get a rise out of you, to make you react to SOMETHING when you've closed everything else out. Granted she chose the wrong way to do it but still...She was wrong, Sam and we all know that." Tears fell down Sam's face and she hastily wiped them away as she realized they were there.
"Whatever," she snapped, putting her walls of defense back up. Brooke sighed.
"Don't 'whatever' me, Sam. That is such a cop out," she pushed. "TALK to me, damn it. Tell me what's going on with you. Let me help you."
"I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP!" Sam bellowed. "You're better off without me screwing up your life!" Brooke sighed again.
"Oh, Sammy, you don't screw up my life. You brighten it simply by being in it. You could never screw it up. I love having you around, seeing you, hearing your voice..."
"Pretty flowery words aren't going to fix this," Sam pointed out bitterly.
"No, but neither is shutting everyone out and trying to solve your hurt with alcohol," Brooke answered patiently. "Look, Sammy, Mom and Dad are thinking about medicating you because they're worried that you're a danger to yourself. I don't want that and I don't think you do either. Work with me here. I'm not saying just turn around and open up all your walls. I know how hard that is for you but PLEASE don't shut me completely out," she begged openly.
"Figures they just want to throw pills at me. Can't blame them though. I'm a serious head case now," Sam snorted. Brooke scowled.
"You are not. You're in pain and don't know how to deal. It's that simple, Sam. No one is going to fault you or think that you're weak if you ask for help. It takes a strong person to admit they need help." Sam shoulders slumped and she sat on the bed the picture of defeat.
"There's nothing you can do to help, Brooke. Talking isn't going to change what happened. I will still have the scars, the memories, the nightmares of what was done to me. Of the things he said. Nothing can erase that. It's a part of me now and I don't know if I'm strong enough to live with it," she whispered.
"God, don't talk that way, Sam," Brooke gasped. "I don't want to lose you." She sat on the bed next to Sam. "Do you know how scared I was when I saw George with his hands wrapped around your throat? How my heart stopped in fear and dread when I realized you weren't breathing and I thought you were dead? That I wasn't going to be able to get you back?" Tears were flowing freely down her face as Brooke spoke.
"I have never been so scared in my life, Sam. I wasn't just losing my best friend, my stepsister, my arch enemy. I was losing my heart and soul, my other half. I can't imagine my life without you in it in some way. Whether as a friend or whatever I don't care as long as you're there. But you almost weren't. That bastard almost stole you from me and I was scared."
"But now, you're here but you're not. You're a shell of who you were. The girl I know and yes, love, is hidden so deeply inside, under all that pain and fear that she can't find her way out. George almost killed you but he didn't. You're alive but not living. You're finishing the job for him and that's letting him win. Please, Sam, don't give him the satisfaction."
Sam let out a long heavy sigh and put her head on Brooke's shoulder.
"I am so tired," she whispered. Brooke kissed the top of her head lightly.
"I know. Let's rest and see if we feel better later," she said laying back with Sam and covering them with the blankets.
~~~~~
"Tell me something, George, why did you do it?" Brooke asked the captive audience the next day. She wasn't sure what motivated her to visit George but she had permission from his family in the hopes that it would help Sam. They felt very guilty that he had treated the sweet girl so badly and were willing to do whatever they could to help. So they agreed with George's therapist to let Brooke sit in on a session and speak to George. George glared at her.
"I have an anger management problem, or haven't you heard?" he said snidely. Brooke swallowed her anger and tried again.
"I know that, but why Sam? What did she do to deserve it in your opinion?" George sat and thought about that for a second.
"She wanted it," he said simply. "She pretends to be so strong, so sure. But she's not, Brooke. She's fragile, breakable. And it was my job to prove that to her. She wasn't so tough. Someone had to show her that. She thought she was so much better than everyone else, look at how she treated you."
"What does that mean?" Brooke asked angrily. George grinned evilly.
"She used to rip you apart for the sake of a story. She felt that she was better than you, smarter. I had to show her her place in the scheme of things. Not to mention the fact that a woman's place is behind her man. I couldn't have her getting more attention than me."
"You are one sick fuck," Brooke snapped.
"Ms McQueen, please watch your language," the therapist interjected. George laughed.
"Damn, your buttons are easier to push than hers were. Do you have any idea how easy she was to play, Brooke? String her along for a little while with pretty words and gentle touches and then BAM!" he clapped his hands together loudly making Brooke jump in surprise. "Teach her the way things work." Brooke's face started turning red.
"And you know what the best part is, Brooke?" George asked leaning closer. Brooke shook her head. "It's all your fault. She was protecting you. I could do whatever I wanted to her if I simply invoked YOUR name. She cares that much for you. It was great," he chuckled. Brooke struck out and slapped him before she could stop herself. George stared at her for a second.
"Hmmm," he hummed. "Someone should tell Sammy that her new love is violent too. She'll like that," he cooed. Unable to listen to anymore, Brooke stood up and stormed out.
"I hope you rot in here forever you sick mother fucker. I'm gonna see to it that you do!"
Part Seven
Hey,
I kinda cheated on this one. I used two songs and they sucked up a lot of room so I didn't write as much for this chapter. *shrug* eh, shoot me. LOL Still, imho music can be very important to understanding someone's emotional status as well as aiding in the healing process. So, that's my reasoning behind this chapter. Oh and the songs belong to Linkin Park, I'm just borrowing them for story sake. =)
~~~~~
Two long weeks past since her last confrontation with Sam and while Sam hadn't gotten any worse, she wasn't improving any either. She seemed to be stuck in place and it bothered Brooke. All she seemed to do was sit in her room, listening to her CD Walkman. She went to school and went directly home, not even bothering with the newspaper anymore. It was so unlike Sam to be so anti-social.
Against their better judgment, Jane and Mike left for a short vacation and took Mac with them, leaving Brooke to try and reach Sam. They let Brooke know that if things hadn't improved by the time they returned in two weeks, Sam would be medicated whether she liked it or not. They were worried about leaving Sam and Brooke home alone after what happened the last time but Brooke convinced them that it was the best way to show Sam that life went on as normal despite everything that had happened. Sam was indifferent to their leaving, saying a simple good-bye and then retreating back to her room. Brooke followed her up and was surprised to actually hear the music blaring loudly.
"Sam? Can I come in?" she called over the din. When she received no answer, she tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked.
Sam was curled up under her covers, pointedly ignoring her visitor. Brooke sat on the bed and stroked Sam's unruly hair away from her face.
"Whatcha listening to?" she asked. Sam blinked at her.
"Listen," she answered simply. "Maybe...maybe you'll understand." Sam's voice was hushed and Brooke had to strain to hear it over the music.
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming/ Confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controling/ I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
Without a sense of confidence/ I'm convinced that there's just too
much pressure to take
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting/ Reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
Without a sense of confidence/ I'm convinced that there's just too
much pressure to take
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Brooke gasped. As the song played, Sam had started to quietly sing along and Brooke no longer heard the lead singer. She heard the song as if it was Sam singing solely to her, trying to explain how she felt. And Brooke did finally see how twisted inside Sam felt. And it killed her to know that Sam felt that way.
"Aww, Sammy...is it really that bad?" she wanted to know. Sam shut her eyes as a few tears leaked past her lids. She bit her lip and nodded. Brooke wiped away the falling tears and leaned down to kiss the closed eyes. Sam's eyes flew open after she pulled away.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Brooke sighed. "I just...I want so badly to help you; to make you feel better. And I don't know how anymore." Sam focused her confused and pain filled brown eyes on Brooke's hazel ones.
"Tell me why," Sam said finally. Brooke frowned.
"Why what?" she asked confused.
"Why it happened. Am I a bad person? Did I do something to make George hate me? Am I so unlovable that he had to hurt me because he hated me so much? Brooke, I don't understand," she cried openly further breaking Brooke's heart with her vulnerablity. Brooke gathered the sobbing girl into her arms and held her tight.
"I don't know why he did it really, Sam. But you aren't a bad person. And you AREN'T unlovable. I love you whether you believe me or not. I'm in love with you Sam, with my whole heart and I will NEVER hurt you, I swear. Even if you can't love me back, I will always be right here for you. George was the evil one, love, not you," Brooke tried to make Sam understand.
"There has to be a reason. There's always a reason," Sam said softly through her tears.
"The only person who will ever know the true reasons is George, Sammy. And I don't think he's ever going to tell us the truth as to why," Brooke sighed.
"I feel so broken," Sam whispered. Brooke stifled her own sob at how much damage George had done to Sam. And she tried to surpress her anger at him so that Sam wouldn't see it. She didn't want the upset girl to see that part of her right now.
"You're not, Sam. Just hurting. It'll get better, if you let it. I promise," she kissed the top of Sam's head as Sam buried her face in the crook of her neck.
"Why is it I only feel safe when you're here?" she wondered out loud making Brooke's heart nearly burst with joy to know that Sam felt safe around her again. It was something at least. Sam was starting to trust her again and it was all Brooke could hope for. It was a ray of light in their storm.
"You'll always be safe with me, Sammy," she whispered.
~~~~~
Sam was asleep finally so Brooke took the CD from the player and put it in her own, tuning it to the other track that was programmed into Sam's player. She listened intently trying to get another glimpse as to how Sam felt so that she could better understand her brunette love.
It starts with one thing
I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
keep that in mind
I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on, but didn't even know
Wasted it all just to watch you go
I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind
I designed this rhyme, to remind myself how
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me
I'm surprised it got so (far)
Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me (in the end)
You kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
"Jesus, Sammy," Brooke sighed. "How far have you fallen?" To Brooke, the song illustrated perfectly both Sam's struggle now and their antagonistic relationship in the past. It was strange to hear someone else expressing such a thing. And it reaffirmed her belief that Sam was dangerously close to the edge. And that scared her. But at the same time the fact that Sam had shared the music with her told Brooke that she was ready to reach out. That maybe finally Sam was ready to accept the hand that was being offered. She certainly hoped that was the case. Watching Sam slip further and further away was like slow torture to Brooke.
Sam was as fragile as George had mentioned. Brooke was aware of that. But maybe she was ready to start rebuilding herself. With George's court date approaching, Brooke knew Sam would need to be stronger to face it. She couldn't just walk in and face George in the state she was in; George would tear her apart no matter what Brooke did to stop it. And that might be the last straw for Sam. The thing that would push Sam over the edge into the abyss and Brooke was determined to prevent that from happening.
"You put your trust in me, Sammy. I know that," Brooke said echoing the words from the song. "But you're wrong. It does matter. And I will prove it to you. I promise."
Part Eight
Brooke was awoken by a gentle nudge to her shoulder. She rolled over and was surprised to see Sam staring down at her intently. There was a look of confusion and fear on Sam's face that disturbed Brooke. There was also something else in the brunette's gaze that eluded her.
"What is it, Sammy?" she asked sleepily. Sam sighed slightly and seemed to think about her answer for a second.
"I woke up and you weren't there," she said softly. Brooke's heart dropped as she realized that Sam was hurt by her absence. She sat up to better look at Sam.
"I'm sorry, Sammy. You were finally asleep and I didn't want to bother you. And I don't want to crowd you," Brooke explained. Sam nudged her again.
"Can I sleep in here with you?" she asked in a tiny voice. Brooke smiled and moved over to give Sam room, holding the covers up for her to crawl under. Sam got into the bed and settled in close to Brooke.
"That better?" Brooke asked lovingly as she ran her hand through Sam's hair. She was ecstatic that Sam seemed to be reaching out for comfort. Sam mumbled a quiet 'yes' and grew silent. Brooke rubbed her back to soothe her and thought she'd fallen asleep until she felt the warm brush of lips against her collarbone. She gasped as she felt Sam's hands wander over her body and lips travel upwards to her face.
<What is she doing?> Brooke thought as Sam grew more bold and her own breathing grew raged. <Oh I KNOW what she's doing, but why? Oh God, I'm burning alive!> Sam was lighting fires wherever she touched and as much as Brooke wanted her to continue, she knew it shouldn't.
"Sam," she said pulling away slightly with much effort. "What are you doing?" Sam's hand rested on the curve of her hip and Brooke could feel the intense heat coming from the limb. Sam's thumb moved in slow circles on her hip and Brooke found herself fascinated by the motion.
"Brooke, please," Sam begged as she kissed and nipped at the slender slope of the blonde's neck.
"Please?" Brooke parroted trying to concentrate past her body's desires. But Sam wasn't making it easy as her other hand came to rest on one of her breasts. Brooke barely swallowed her moan of pleasure even as her body betrayed her and she unconsciously arched into Sam's hand.
"Please, Brooke, make love to me," Sam whispered. Brooke's heart sped up even faster at hearing the quiet plea.
"Oh Sammy," Brooke breathed as Sam finally captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Brooke momentarily reveled in the kiss and the feelings rolling through her. It was everything she'd imagined and dreamed of and she wanted to let it continue. Until at least, her conscious got the better of her.
"Sam, no," she said firmly. She gently pushed Sam a few inches away and tried to regather her composure. Sam frowned at her and tried to lean in again.
"Why?" she asked as Brooke put her arm out to stop her. Brooke's heart almost broke as she saw the lost and hurt look on Sam's face. "Don't you want me?"
"Sam, I want you. Believe me I want you so much it nearly consumes me," Brooke started to explain. Sam leaned in again, getting past Brooke's arm and kissing her. Brooke moaned as Sam deepened the kiss and grew more aggressive.
"Show me," the brunette nearly growled as she withdrew. Her voice sent chills down Brooke's spine and made her body tingle. "Show me you love me. Make love to me." Brooke whimpered as she pulled away from the inviting offer. There was nothing she wanted more in the world at that moment but to do as Sam asked but she knew they'd both regret it if she did.
"Not like this, Sammy. Not now," she protested. Sam scowled and glared at Brooke before she started to move off the bed.
"Fine," she snapped. Brooke reached out and wrapped her arms around Sam's waist to stop her from leaving.
"Let me explain, Sam. Please," Brooke beseeched pressing her forehead against Sam's back for a second. When Sam turned to face her, Brooke saw the tears running down her face.
"What's to explain, Brooke? You don't love me, you don't want me and everything you've said to me recently is a lie? Thanks but no thanks," Sam retorted bitterly. Brooke sighed.
"It's not like that, Sam," she said quietly.
"Then why?" Sam asked crying. "You've spent all this time telling me how much you care for me and yet you turn me away. I don't understand." Brooke gently brushed the tears off of Sam's face before answering. To her surprise and relief, Sam didn't flinch or attempt to pull away from her.
"I do care for you. I love you, Sam, and I do want you. More than you know. But now isn't the right moment. Not for the reasons you want me to make love to you." Sam simply looked at her confused.
"Whether you know it or not, Sam, you desperately want to feel better, to feel wanted and loved. You know that I love you and you're using that to try and find a way to make yourself feel better. And...I don't want to be used like that," Brooke admitted softly. Sam gasped.
"I'd never use you," she protested. "Ever."
"I know, Sam. And I know that's not what you meant to do just now. But when..." Brooke paused to regather her thoughts. "If we ever make love, I want it to be special, magical. You are very special to me. You are my world, Sam. I don't want to see this as how you decide to handle your hurt. Using sex to make yourself forget George and the pain he caused you, caused both of us, is the wrong thing to do. I'll be here anyway you need me, but not like that. Not right now." She hoped Sam understood her reasoning. While she wanted Sam, wanted to touch and feel her, she didn't want Sam's decision to be with her motivated by her hurt and fear. That wasn't the basis for a good relationship.
"I'm sorry," Sam wept. "I'll leave." Brooke tightened her hold on the slender brunette. That was the LAST thing Brooke wanted her to do. She was afraid of what Sam might do in the face of what she might see as 'rejection.' Plus, she wanted to comfort Sam in any way she could and Brooke knew that being alone right now would be a bad thing for her.
"No, stay," Brooke asked. "Please?"
"You sure?" Sam sniffled.
"Yes, I want you to stay. I'll keep you safe from the nightmares while you sleep." Sam crawled back into the bed and snuggled close to Brooke.
"I really am sorry, Brooke," Sam whispered. "I never meant to take advantage of your feelings or try and manipulate you. It was wrong."
"It's OK, Sam. All is forgiven. Just try to get some sleep," Brooke told her softly.
"Thank you."
~~~~~
Brooke woke the next morning to find Sam still curled up beside her and sleeping peacefully for the first time in too long. She watched as Sam's dark brows twitched slightly in her sleep but she didn't seem disturbed so Brooke let her stay asleep. She lightly stroked some hair away from Sam's face and listened to the brunette's even breathing. She was so happy that Sam was finally sleeping that she didn't want the moment to end. So she watched Sam for nearly an hour before the other girl stirred.
Sam looked up at Brooke with sleep filled eyes and blinked as if trying to bring the blonde into focus. Finally, she gave Brooke a lopsided smile that lit Brooke up inside to see.
"Mornin,'" she whispered her voice still thick with sleep.
"Good morning, Sammy. Sleep well?" Brooke asked. Sam thought a minute and then smiled again.
"Yeah, actually. For the first time in a long time, I did. Thank you," she responded somewhat happily. She yawned and stretched before wrapping her arms around Brooke again.
"I'm really sorry about last night," she mumbled into Brooke's neck as she snuggled closer. Brooke sighed.
"Sam, it's OK. Don't worry about it. I understand. Do you understand why I said 'no'?" She felt Sam nod against her.
"Yeah."
"It's not because I don't want you," Brooke repeated to make sure Sam understood. "But because it wasn't the right time. Maybe someday, Sammy, but not yet."
"I know," Sam whispered.
"I do love you, Sam," Brooke confessed quietly. Sam sighed.
"I know that too," she responded. Sam really had no doubt as to the sincerity in the cheerleaders words. No matter how hard she pushed and insulted Brooke, the blonde never gave up or turned away. Sam wasn't stupid. She knew that a lot of what she had said was mean, cruel even. And yet Brooke endured it and came back for more. It spoke volumes about her devotion and Sam knew that she couldn't deny now that Brooke was serious when she said those words. She still wasn't sure what she felt or what she was going to do but she did know that Brooke genuinely loved her. And that gave her a solid feeling of peace. And she liked that feeling a lot.
"Is it OK that I said that?" Brooke asked timidly when Sam was quiet for several minutes.
"Yeah, it's OK," Sam told her. Brooke beamed. She hugged Sam tighter to her. She took the fact that Sam was accepting her love as serious as a good sign that Sam was coming around and hopefully beginning the long road out of her depression. Even if Sam decided not to be in a relationship with her, as much as that would hurt, Brooke would be satisfied if Sam at least recovered and healed knowing that she was loved. It would be worth the pain of Sam not loving her back if Sam was her old self again and moved beyond George and the things he'd done.
"Thank you for that, Sammy," Brooke said almost in tears. She kissed Sam on the top of her head.
"'m tired," Sam said sleepily. Brooke smiled.
"Go back to sleep, Sam," she advised. She knew that Sam needed as much rest as she could get and she was more than happy to provide the much needed comfort.
"Will you still be here when I wake up?" she asked innocently. Brooke nuzzled her temple with her nose.
"Of course I will. I'll never leave you, Sammy. As long as you want me, need me, I'll be right here for you." She heard Sam sigh contentedly as she drifted off to sleep and followed her love into slumber shortly after.