TITLE: Shifting Gears
AUTHOR: Angelina
EMAIL: angelina2006@hotmail.com
RATING: Not sure yet... PG-13 so far I guess
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Touchstone Television (I think)
SUMMARY: After 'Promblems'. Sam deals with the fall-out.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: OK, I was so PO'd with the other dumb fic I'm writing that I decided to start a new one. (Makes sense in my head) This is a sort of response to the 'Bad dreams & comfort' theme thingie that's around at the moment - we don't get to the 'comfort' section in this installment...but it's coming. I'd like to thank Childe of Darla for the title as I can never think of half-decent ones (and also for the debate about the spelling of the baby's name). And BTW, being a poor little Brit, I haven't seen any of the second season yet (roll on Wednesday), so please excuse any innacuracies contained within. These are the longest author's notes I've ever written...I'll shut up now. Lemme know what y'all think.
Part One
Sam sat in the stark whiteness of the hospital room. She looked at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time to find that the hands had barely moved at all. Waiting was difficult at the best of times. Waiting for news of someone's condition in a hospital made it even harder. Again Sam felt tears well up in her eyes. Her throat was raw and sore from crying, she'd cried so much she felt sick. But she couldn't stop. She kept seeing it in her mind. Brooke running into the road, the car heading straight for her…not slowing down…speeding up. She'd cried out in terror, trying to warn Brooke, but she'd been too late. Brooke only saw the car a split second before it hit her. Too late.
Sam had heard that accidents can happen so quickly they become a blur, even to witnesses. But every detail of the event was crystal clear in her head. She could still hear the awful crunch of metal as Brooke's slight body was hit with such force that it caused the hood of the car to buckle. She relived the sensation of utter helplessness she felt as she watched Brooke be thrown into the air. The dull thud as she made contact with the unrelenting ground still rang in Sam's ears. She remembered her body feeling like lead as she tried to move towards Brooke. Her limbs weren't co-operating even as her mind screamed for them to work. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she approached the prone figure on the dark, cold road. The dread in her stomach had only been paralleled on one previous occasion; when she'd walked into her house on the day her father had died to find her mother waiting for her. She had known from the expression on her face what had happened, but she dreaded hearing the words spoken aloud. As she walked towards Brooke's unmoving body that same feeling pervaded her being.
Upon her arrival at Brooke's side, Sam knelt down and held two fingers to her neck. It had seemed so detached, so clinical, but she had to know. She had to know if she was alive. Then she would be able to react. But she had to know first. Her hands were shaking so badly that it had taken a second for her to locate a pulse. The relief that flooded her body when she felt the distinct, steady beat was visceral. Her body immediately felt lighter. But relief was tempered by the fear caused by the state of Brooke. A trickle of blood was running from the side of her mouth and her leg was twisted into an unnatural position. Those were Sam's main worries, various other cuts and bruises were evident but seemed minor. The fact that she was unconscious was also of concern. As she heard shouts and calls for ambulances, Sam simply lay down on the ground beside Brooke, being careful not to move her. She placed her forehead gently against Brooke's and softly stroked her cheek. She didn't know what else to do. She just knew she wanted Brooke to be alright. She wanted everything to be alright. She needed Brooke to be alright.
People had started to come out from the interior of the building. Sam heard Harrison's voice calling out Brooke's name but she ignored him and continued to stroke Brooke's cheek. She heard his footsteps as he ran towards them but paid him no heed. He was talking to her, crying and asking questions but she neglected to look at him, focusing on Brooke's face. The blood from her mouth was still flowing, pooling as it reached the ground. And then a sound cut through the voices. The siren of an ambulance. Sam stayed in her position on the ground until a paramedic urged her to move. She stood to the side as they worked to stabilise Brooke. Harrison put his arm around her shoulders but she shrugged him off, not wanting his touches any more than she wanted to hear the sound of him weeping.
After moving Brooke onto a stretcher, the paramedics quickly moved her into the back of the ambulance. Sam rode in the front to allow them room to help Brooke. During the ride to the hospital she was silent and still. Speaking only when required to give some detail about Brooke. Once at the hospital, Brooke had been whisked through a set of doors. Sam moved to follow but had been blocked by an elderly nurse.
"You can't go in there honey, they have to try to help her now. You can wait here."
She smiled sadly at Sam, a lifetime of watching people leave their loved ones in the hands of doctors had provided her with an understanding of pain that was often more than she wanted to have. Sam shook her head vehemently, trying to get around the woman only to be gently pushed back.
"But…but I…she…you don't understand…she's my sister…"
Sam struggled to get the words out around the lump that was suddenly in her throat. Panic swelled in her chest at the thought of Brooke being out of her sight. If she could see her she could reassure herself that she was OK. She had to be near her.
"I know sweetie, I know you want to be with her but she's in the best place possible right now with the people who can fix her. The best you can do is wait here and pray for her."
Sam looked up into the woman's kind eyes and stopped trying to move forward. For the first time since the accident a tear escaped Sam's eye. It was quickly followed by another, and another, until she was sobbing uncontrollably in the nurse's arms. The numbness that had set in earlier in the evening was thawing out. And what replaced it was pain. Sheer pain that tore through Sam's heart like a blade. She cried out her agony on the nurse's shoulder, allowing herself to be held like a child and rocked.
After crying for an eternity she had finally pulled herself together enough to be led to the relatives room. She didn't want to be in the waiting area where she was sure people from school would start arriving. She wanted to be by herself. She didn't want to be with people telling her that everything was alright and that Brooke would be fine. They didn't know that, couldn't know that. And she especially didn't want to see Harrison.
So she now sat alone, watching the clock and praying as the nurse had suggested. Sam put her face in her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration. No-one had told her anything since Brooke had been taken away, taken out of her sight.
All of a sudden the door was opened and there stood her mother and Mike, red-eyed and scared. Wordlessly Sam stood and walked into her mother's waiting arms. Jane squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head. Jane had thought that she might have felt relief upon hearing that it wasn't Sam who was hit. But she had felt no such thing. If she had needed proof that Brooke was as much her daughter as Sam was this was it. And no-one needed this kind of proof of anything. Sam regarded Mike over her mother's shoulder. He was holding Mackenzie, cradling her, as if protecting this baby girl would somehow help his other baby. Sam moved out of her mother's arms and walked up to Mike. He held out his arm and pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely. Sam held onto him as she felt sobs shake his body. Jane gently took the baby from his arms. Sam buried her face in his strong shoulder as she felt her own tears coming back.
Just at that moment, a soft knock was heard at the door. Mike and Sam separated and composed themselves. A doctor peered around the doorframe.
"Mr and Mrs McQueen?"
"Yes…yes that's us, how is she? What's happening to our daughter?" Mike asked, his voice breaking slightly.
The doctor came fully into the room and closed the door.
"Could we sit down?" he asked gently.
Sam felt dizzy, her breathing had become quick and shallow. She sat down heavily on a chair as her earlier feeling of dread returned with a vengeance. The expression on the doctor's face did not suggest that he was about to impart good news. She saw her mother clasp Mike's hand tightly as they sat together on a sofa across from Sam.
"Mr and Mrs McQueen, the injuries sustained by your daughter were very severe. We took her to the OR where we attempted to deal with the internal haemorrhaging but we experienced complications."
Sam's heart was thundering in her ears.
"We used every option available to us, but despite our efforts we were unable to save her. I am so terribly sorry."
Sam felt like she had left her body as she watched her mother and Mike collapse into each other's arms, wailing and crying. The doctor sat with his head bowed, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make things better. Sam sat and tried to comprehend what had just happened. He had said Brooke was dead. Brooke was dead. Brooke was dead. Sam felt her world crumbling around her, falling slowly, piece by piece. The anguish threatening to erupt within her scared her with its intensity. If she let it out it would overwhelm her. But what was the use of containing it? Brooke was dead. There was no point in anything. Brooke was dead. Dead. Dead.
Sam sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily, face wet with tears. She took a moment to collect herself before thinking back to her dream. It was so real. It was so vivid. But that's because it had happened. Everything in the dream, the events, the feelings, the places, the sounds, everything had happened just the way it had in the dream. Except the doctor's words. He hadn't said those words. He'd said she was OK, he'd said she would be fine.
Sam hugged her knees to her chest and cried with relief. She rocked herself back and forwards, trying not to cry out loud and wake up the other members of the household. The grief she had felt in her dream was still fresh in Sam's memory. She realised that the dream had been her own personal worst nightmare. Brooke dying, Brooke not being in her life anymore, that was her worst nightmare. And during the endless wait at the hospital two days ago she had come to realise why. She loved Brooke. And not merely in a `sisterly' manner. She was in love with Brooke, deeply and wholly. The fight over Harrison had been a way to interact with Brooke in a safe way, without revealing any feelings. They had become closer. And Sam now knew that she wanted more from Brooke than Brooke would ever want to give her.
But the thought of losing her was too much to bear. The dream had been far too realistic and had shown Sam exactly how much she needed Brooke. Sam was filled with a sudden need to see Brooke and be near her. A glance out of the window told her it was nearly dawn. She could make it to the hospital in fifteen minutes and reassure herself that her dream had been just that, a dream. She could make sure Brooke was OK then come home before anyone noticed she'd gone. Without giving it another thought Sam slipped out of bed and quickly got dressed. She crept down the stairs and out of the door. She just needed to know that Brooke was OK. She needed to know.
Part Two
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sort of response to the 'Bad dreams & comfort' theme thingie that's around at the moment - The comfort bit is in this installment. I'd like to thank Childe of Darla for the title as I can never think of half-decent ones (and also for the debate about the spelling of the baby's name). And BTW, being a poor little Brit, I haven't seen any of the second season yet (roll on Wednesday), so please excuse any innacuracies contained within.
On the drive to the hospital Sam got more and more worked up about her dream. What if it hadn't been a dream? What if the other version, the one where Brooke was OK, was the dream? She drove faster than strictly legal but she didn't care. She just had to get there.
Sam abandoned her car in the parking lot and ran into the hospital, careering along corridors, dodging gurneys. As she neared Brooke's room she slowed to a brisk walk, trying to look like she was supposed to be there at this ungodly hour. She couldn't risk being stopped by a member of staff. But she went unchallenged and finally she arrived outside Brooke's room. She took a deep breath, opened the door quietly and slipped in unnoticed. It was with immense relief that her eyes came to rest upon Brooke, asleep, peaceful, alive.
Sam covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes as she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. That was when she realised how nervous she'd been, her stomach was in turmoil. She leaned back against the wall, covering her face with both hands as she wept silently. She slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor, still sobbing into her hands, unable to control the emotions the experience had aroused in her.
"Sam?" a groggy voice drifted over from the bed.
Sam looked up sharply to find that Brooke was awake and trying to sit up. Instantly Sam was on her feet and by Brooke's side, urging her back onto the pillows.
"Sam what's wrong? What time is it? It's still dark." Brooke was very confused by Sam's presence.
"Shhhhh, nothing's wrong, just lie down and go back to sleep." Sam said as she got Brooke settled and fixed the blankets back around her.
"Something's wrong Sam, you're here in the middle of the night crying your eyes out."
Brooke paused and reached out for Sam's hand. Sam was both comforted by the gesture and saddened by how weak Brooke's grip felt. A combination of the drugs she was on and the stress of the accident. Sam held her hand tightly, trying to keep her tears from re-emerging.
"So come on McPherson, spill it, what's up?"
Sam took a deep shuddering breath in an attempt to clear her head. She debated whether or not to tell Brooke the truth about why she was in her current state.
"And don't try to make something up...you're a really bad liar so I'll be able to tell."
Sam looked at Brooke's face. She looked so pale and drawn. And yet still breathtakingly beautiful. Sam decided that her best way forward was the truth. Brooke was right, she was a terrible liar.
"I...uh...I just had a kind of...a bit of a bad dream, that's all."
"It must have been one heck of a bad dream for you to come all the way over here...was it about the accident?"
Sam nodded.
"It must be hard for you. I can't really remember anything about it...but you saw the whole thing. What did you dream?"
Sam swallowed several times and suddenly became very interested in a piece of lint on the blanket. She was determined not to cry again so she had to kill some time before speaking. Brooke knew what she was doing but she allowed her to take the time she needed. After a moment or so Sam started speaking.
"I saw the whole thing again in my dream, exactly how it happened. Every detail was the same, I felt the same way I did that night."
The first tear made its way down Sam's cheek but she decided that she'd have to finish now that she'd begun.
"I just remember being so scared, terrified. I thought you were...well, you were on the ground and I just...anyway, so in the dream everything was the same. I came to the hospital with you, I waited in a room, Mom and Mike came in with the baby...then a doctor came to speak to us."
A sob escaped Sam's throat and she brought a hand up to try to smother the sound. Without a word Brooke lifted up the edge of the bed covers. Sam understood the gesture. In her heart she knew she shouldn't get into bed with Brooke, not when she had feelings for her, unrequited feelings. But she just needed to be comforted. And nothing in the world would have held more appeal than lying close to Brooke at that moment in time. Sam kicked off her shoes and gently climbed under the blankets with Brooke. Brooke stretched her arm out so that Sam had no choice but to lay her head on Brooke's shoulder. Brooke brought her arm around Sam and held her, stroking her hair.
".like I said, the doctor came to talk to us...but when he told us...he didn't say you'd be OK, he told us that you'd...that you'd died and then I woke up and oh God I felt like I'd been kicked in the chest, it actually physically hurt and I just had to come over here to make sure you were OK, I know it's silly but the thought of you being...well it just...I just."
"Shhhhh."
Brooke shifted slightly so that she was able to put both arms around Sam and hold her as she cried. Brooke closed her eyes as she tried to imagine how she'd feel if the positions were reversed. She couldn't begin to envision how she'd react if Sam had been hurt...or killed. She held Sam tighter as she felt tears well up in her own eyes.
"It's OK, I'm fine...I'm not dead...I'm OK."
Sam pulled away slightly so they could look into each other's eyes. She offered Brooke a watery smile.
"I know...I knew that you were OK before I even got here. But the possibility that you might not be...it really frightened me. And the dream was so real...it was just horrible Brooke...horrible."
And she buried her face in Brooke's neck once more, crying at the refreshed memories talking about the dream had brought back. Brooke cradled Sam. She felt something needed to be said. Something that should have been said a long time ago.
"I love you Sam."
For a second Sam didn't respond. She wasn't sure she'd heard properly. Or that she had misunderstood the sentiment. Then she realised that Brooke was waiting for a response.
"I love you too Brooke...that's why I was so worried...I mean I know we argue and stuff but I really think."
"I don't think you got my meaning...I'm in love with you Sam."
Again Sam refrained from answering straight away. OK, there was very little room for ambiguity in that statement. She stared mutely into Brooke's hazel eyes. Sensing she wasn't about to get a reply any time soon Brooke continued speaking.
"I've been in love with you for a while...and at the risk of sounding immodest, I'm pretty sure you're in love with me too...and if you're not I'm going to be so embarrassed in a moment. But I don't think I'm wrong...am I?"
Sam shook her head, still unable to speak. Brooke breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank God, I'd have required serious therapy after a mortification like that! But anyway, you might be wondering why I've never said anything about this before. And you have every right to wonder that. And the simple truth is that I was scared. I was scared of what people would think. I was scared that you'd reject me. I was scared of telling our parents. I was scared of being thought of as anything other than `normal'. But if this accident has taught me anything, then it's that life is far too short to be lived in fear. And that it's far too short to live a lie. The only truth that I'm sure of in this world is that I'm in love with you...and if you want to I'd really like to give us a chance. Do you...want to, I mean?"
Sam nodded. Then she cleared her throat and spoke in a slightly trembling voice.
"I want...I very want. I mean, I'd love to give us a chance. And I totally get what you were saying about being scared...for the longest time I was scared even to admit it to myself. I had almost convinced myself that I couldn't stand you...then you'd look at me or smile at me or talk to me and I'd melt inside. But I don't think I truly admitted it to myself until the other night after you were brought in here...when I thought about the possibility of losing you...well, let's just say there was no way I could explain away the feelings it brought to the surface."
Sam smiled. Brooke returned the smile and stroked Sam's cheek softly unconsciously mirroring the action Sam had performed at the scene of the accident.
"Have you spoken to Harrison yet?"
"No, have you?"
"Yeah, he came in to visit me yesterday...he said that you wouldn't take his calls and that you wouldn't even talk to him."
Sam looked away.
"I know I shouldn't...but I kind of blamed him for what happened. I kept thinking if only he'd picked you then none of this would have happened...but then I kept coming back to the fact that the whole thing was my fault anyway...if I hadn't kept up the whole farce of wanting Harrison then you'd be OK."
Brooke hooked a finger underneath Sam's chin and made her look up.
"Hey, stop that right now. This is not your fault. And it's not Harrison's either. It was an accident, shit happens and all that. I was pretending to want Harrison as well if you recall."
"I know but."
"But nothing...it's not your fault. Just forget all about it. It's history, done and dusted. I want to move on with my life and I hope that you want to move with me."
Sam nodded. She smiled shyly at Brooke.
"So...should ..we...you know?"
"What?"
"Kiss?"
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"I mean...yeah...sure...we should probably kiss."
"It feels strange...especially now that we've just discussed that we're going to kiss...I mean, I probably shouldn't have brought it up, I'm not the most experienced person when it comes to romantic spontaneity so you'll have to bear with me, I'm probably not the world's best."
"Sam?"
"Uh huh?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Sam looked into Brooke's gently teasing eyes and felt immediately at ease. She brought her hand up Brooke's back and let it rest on the back of her neck. Slowly she leaned over and brought their lips together in a soft, tender kiss. They savoured the feeling for a brief moment before parting. Sam laid her head back on Brooke's shoulder, allowing herself to be held. They stayed in that position, enjoying the warmth and security it brought to them both. They felt so warm and secure that they fell asleep.
They were in much the same position when Jane and Mike entered the room a little while later.
"Well, I guess that answers the riddle of where Sam went." Jane whispered.
"Yep." Mike smiled at the two sleeping girls. "They look so cute like that don't they?"
Jane nodded, happy that the girls seemed finally to have accepted each other as sisters.
"In fact, I'd say this is an ideal photo opportunity."
Mike pulled out the camera that had never been far from his hand since Mackenzie had been born. He snapped a picture of the slumbering duo. He chuckled, sure that neither of them would appreciate being photographed while asleep. Little did he know just how much embarrassment the photo would cause. After all, how many couples can say that their parents took snapshots of them in bed the first time they slept together?
END
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