Psychology

Title: Psychology

Author: Majandra

Rating: PG13 for attempted suicide, and for language I may have inserted unwittingly

Pairing: N/A

Summary: Sam and Brooke are going through a rough time. They both decide, separately, to see someone about it. Unwittingly, they start seeing the same person.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Blah, blah, woof, woof.

Author's Notes: This is not a happy story filled with magical fairies. It doesn't have any sex in it. There's not really a happy ending. Probably because I wasn't in a happy ending kind of mood when I wrote this. Strange for me, and my love of Sam and Brooke getting together, but there it is. If you don't like reading sad stories, don't read this one.

Part 1: SAM

I'm worried about Brooke.

Brooke and I… well, we were never close, even after we moved in together. I think what the parentals wanted was for us to fall in each other's arms and become best friends instantly. Well, it didn't happen that way. It was hard work, trying to keep in the smart comments I'd trained myself to make. I'd gotten really good at it too.

The thing is, and I speak only for myself here, because I can't speak for Brooke, I was kind of getting tired of fighting with her. Sure, there was a certain intellectual satisfaction to be drawn from it, because let's face it, she's the only one at Kennedy who even comes close to being to engage in a battle of the wits with me. Everyone else is, sadly, sorely unarmed.

After we moved in together it looked like things were going to get worse, not better, and that… it didn't sit well with me. I'm not sure why. It may have been because I could see how much my mother loved Mike, and I didn't want to screw that up for her. If that meant trying to get along with his toad of a daughter (and I mean personality wise, because in no way does Brooke physically resemble a toad) then so be it.

Of course, subconsciously, it was probably because I figured, if we were so well matched intellectually, she'd make a good friend. I was probably just trying to see if she would be a good friend.

She was. After the initial shock of living together wore off, we became strong allies. She stuck up for me when Satan was hassling my clothes for the thousandth time. I stood by her when the rumors of her eating disorder threatened to topple her from the throne of Kennedy High. I don't know when it began, but somewhere along the line Brooke and I went from grudging housemates to friends. I'd even venture to say best friends.

We had some great times, Brooke and me. We watched videos, we shopped, and we did homework. She'd come to me with problems, and I would take mine to her. She used to hug me, and I used to hug her back. Sometimes we'd hug for no reason at all, just to hug and be hugged. I don't know.

And yet… lately, something worries me. She was opening up to me for quite a while there. I got some interesting insights into the world of Brooke McQueen, I can tell you that much. Now things have changed again. I can't quite put my finger on it… no, that's a lie. I CAN put my finger on it. She's not talking to me again. She's become distant, and even, I hesitate to say, cold. I don't think it's anything I'VE done, because I've been nice without trying lately. So I'm not sure what's going on with her.

I wish I did. Brooke is, to me, the kind of person you just want to take in your arms and make the pain leave her alone, completely. I can't if I don't know what's going on with her.

Um, you should probably know, I'm gay. But this has nothing to do with the story at hand. Well, not really. It kind of explains some of my actions, I guess. But it has no bearing on my feelings for Brooke, because I just don't feel that way about her.

I guess I should try and describe some of the things that have been going on in the Palace lately, shouldn't I? I'll try.

That's the best I seem to be able to do lately.

~*~*~

Going to the movies was always a fun thing. And I enjoyed going to the movies with Brooke. To begin with, we were kind of stiff with each other. I remember the first time we went, we both sat there in the darkness, not looking at each other, just kind of staring at the screen. It was a kind of an "eyes straight ahead" thing. I don't know. Maybe we were afraid we were going to start fighting in front of the entire audience. We didn't.

Well, things got better from there. It got so much better, in fact, that we'd started to make the movie thing a weekly routine. We'd get up on Saturday mornings and eat breakfast in our pajamas, poring over the paper together, and we'd choose a movie. Then we'd get dressed, go for a run, come back, shower and change, and go out for lunch, just a cheap lunch.

We'd catch the movie in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time to go out for a nice dinner together, and discuss the main points. We'd had some almost philosophical discussions over who was the best Austin Power girl, and what was the cutest Disney movie. I still say Lilo and Stitch, but she insists its Monsters Inc. Whatever. That part of the story was just to show the good time we used to have.

Yes, I am correct in using past tense! I'm not stupid. I'm not flunking English. I'm actually doing quite well. Anyway, we went to the movies the other week, and she was weird. She didn't have any input in choosing the movie, I had to do that myself, and she didn't talk much during lunch. When we were in the cinema it was like that first time again, she just stared at the screen. And here's the clincher. She didn't touch the popcorn.

No, I'm serious. Usually I'm hard pressed to get any, because Brooke McQueen is a popcorn hog. She sits there, taking great handfuls and shoveling them into her mouth. It's all I can do to get a couple of small handfuls. That's why I always make her buy the popcorn, and I buy the drinks.

I ate the entire box by myself before I noticed she hadn't taken more than a few pieces. That's when I started to worry about Brooke.

~*~*~

It's not just the movie thing, either. I took her out for lunch the day after, but she barely touched her salad. She just sat there, watching me eat my spare ribs. It was kind of freaky. This may not seem like major stuff, but you don't know her like I do. This is the same girl that, two weeks prior to this, was devouring a cheeseburger and going back for more fries. This is the same girl that once had to finish my lunch for me because I'd ordered too much. She'd ordered the same amount, finished hers and polished mine off.

Yes, I know I just finished saying I used to hate her! That doesn't mean I don't know her well NOW. Ours was a friendship much like… let me see… well, I can't think of a good metaphor right now, but our friendship was fast, and strong. It was as if I'd known her for years… well, I have. But it was as if I'd been FRIENDS with her for years. It felt right, much more so that the fighting ever did. So don't belittle my knowledge of her! I know her well enough to know that something is very wrong!

I thought of saying something to Mom, or even Mike, much as that would have killed me, but I couldn't. I don't want to be a snitch or anything. I just want to help her. That's why I came to you.

Hour's up, huh? I better get to lunch, or she'll know I've been here. That's the last thing I want.

Part 2: BROOKE

Okay. Okay. I can do this.

I… I don't know why. I don't understand what's wrong with me. I don't know.

Okay. So there's Sam, right? She and I are friends, and I know she knows something's wrong, but… I don't know. I can't talk to her like I used to be able to.

What? No, it's not her. It's completely me. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing major, anyhow. If you want to talk about the weather, I'm your girl. That's funny, right? I made a joke. I'm going to be okay, I know it.

Or do I?

I'm not making any sense. I know I'm not making any sense. I don't even think I'm trying to make any sense.

You want to know about Sam? I guess. If you think it'll help.

We weren't friends until maybe three, four, maybe even five months back. Before then I think she really hated me. That's the way she acted, at least. I tried to act the same so she wouldn't know how much she was hurting me.

YES SHE WAS HURTING ME! Don't sit there and look so superior, because you think you've suddenly figured me out. You don't know me. Not like she does. And even she doesn't know everything - more than anyone else, but not everything.

Where was I? God, I hate to think of what I must sound like. I feel disgustingly disjointed, so I can only imagine what I must sound like. Oh, okay. We weren't friends. I think I wanted to be. Yes, I know I wanted to be friends with her. Why? Because, I mean, she's… she's Sam. That should say it all. Have you ever met her? If you have met her, you'll know. You just have to look at her to see that she's so beautiful. She's got fire in her eyes and in her mind. That's why her insults were always so good. I really had to work on mine.

It got worse when we moved in together. Yeah, I live with her. She's almost next door to my room, actually. A bathroom separates us. So it was getting worse, and suddenly, it stopped. I don't mean she stopped talking to me. It was more like she stopped ragging on me. So I started to feel better. So I opened up. So she opened up. It was like a whole big thing…

What the hell kind of question is that? That doesn't make any sense. What do you mean, do I like to eat popcorn when I go to the movies? Of course I do. My friends all make me buy it because I eat so much of it, and they complain they don't get any. It was ONE TIME, ok? I didn't feel like it. So she ate it all, and then she started on at me. Why didn't you eat any? Usually you love popcorn, Brooke, why didn't you eat any? It was because I wasn't hungry, Sammy. It was because I'd rather sit there and watch you eating it.

Hostile? I'm being hostile? Hostile, my fat ass. You haven't even begun to see hostile.

The day after that she took me to the mall, and started scarfing down ribs while I sat in front of this gigantic salad, and I couldn't eat it all. So sue me.

It WAS huge!

I swear, even if I had wanted to, I couldn't have eaten this thing. Well, maybe I could have - if I had wanted.

But see, here's where we begin to have our problem. It's… it's starting again. I'm scared. It always starts like this… I'm scared to eat things, because I'm sure even a lettuce leaf is going to make me huge. And yes, intellectually I know it's irrational, but I can't help it. That's probably the reason I have this block when I try to talk to Sam about it, do you think? Because she's so intellectual, so smart, so beautiful… she wouldn't understand.

Yes, I'm aware that's the third time I've mentioned her in that way. So? So I'm gay, what are you going to do about that? Are we going to sit here for another hour and you're going to tell me that I'm going to hell because I have sexual feelings for girls, Sam in particular? Well screw you. Screw that. I'm not going to sit here and listen to that –

Okay, so you're not going to talk me out of it. Good for you.

So I can't talk to Sam. Maybe I could. I just need some sort of encouragement, maybe if she gave me a sign she wants me to open up… Maybe I don't even need that. I'm sure she's going to think I'm being a big baby about the food thing. I don't even fully understand it myself.

Can you help me?

Well, maybe I WILL return then. You see if I don't.

Do you think… from what I've said… well, my question is, what do you think I should do?

I should talk to Sam. How did I know you were going to say that?

I'm going to go, she's probably waiting for me to drive her home. I drive her home every day- did I tell you that? She can't drive yet, or she doesn't want to, or something. I'm not complaining. It means I get to be close to her for that much time on the way to and from school. That can't be a bad thing, right?

Okay, okay, I'm going. See you some other time.

Part 3: SAM

I don't know if I can deal with this.

She came to me and told me something I didn't expect… well, I guess on some level I knew. I just didn't want to think about it. Now I have to.

Don't get me wrong. I'm honored that she would share it with me… finally. I wonder what made her change her mind. God, this scares me something chronic. She made me promise not to tell Mom or Mike, not that I would have anyway. I guess you're really the only person I can turn to, how sad is that? No offense.

Anyway, this is how it happened.

~*~*~

She came to me one night. I was sitting up in my bed, looking over an article for the school newspaper… you know I write for that, right? Anyhow, she came in, and after I moved my papers she sat on the bed.

"Sammy," she started, "I have this problem."

So I came over all protective, the way I do when it comes to her. "Do you want to talk about it? Cos I'm here for you whether you want to talk or not."

"No, I think I need to," she said, and she sounded a little reluctant. I wonder, I really wonder what made her tell me. But that's beside the point.

"Sammy, my eating disorder's back."

It's funny, you read all those stories about random people, and when they get a shock they say the blood drains from their face. I always used to read those and think how would they know that the blood was draining from their faces? When Brooke said those five words, I knew. I literally felt the blood drain from my face. I didn't know what to do. She moved in the way she always used to when she wanted a hug, and I held my arms out for her.

I didn't really say anything much, just made soothing sounds while she started to cry. I could tell she felt horrible about it, so I knew she was out of control or something. I wanted to help her, I really did. But I knew at the moment all she wanted was someone to talk to, not someone to tell her what to do.

But wait, there's more. After a while she sat up, and she dried her eyes. "Sam, there's something else I should tell you."

I waited. What else what I supposed to do? Lily and Carmen always used to tell me they thought I was good at this sort of thing, listening to people's problems, because, they said, I had a sense about when to shut up, and when to talk, and I could tell now was not the time to jump in with suggestions.

"I think I may be depressed. Not just unhappy, but clinically depressed."

I knew this was a big thing for her to tell me, but I just didn't know what to tell her. What do you say to someone who tells you that? I pulled her in for another hug, sensed the time was right, and started talking. I told her about how she was my best friend, and I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her if I could help it, and how I was going to help her through this.

I also told her that she WOULD get through this, even though I knew I shouldn't guarantee anything. I just thought, why upset her further?

Whatever. It seemed to work, because she seemed calmer than she had in a long time. For the first time ever, she slept over in my room… in my bed. I'm not sure how I felt about that. I mean, sure I have slept in beds with girls before, that's how sleepovers work, right? But somehow this seemed different. I'm sure I didn't want more, but I'm not so sure SHE didn't want more. She curled up really close to me, closer than Lily or Carm would have. In fact, when I woke up, her arm was draped over my stomach. What was I supposed to think about that? But I didn't want to upset her, so I didn't say
anything.

And here we are. That's what happened, in a nutshell. But there's something else you should know.

Mom and Mike went away to Chicago this morning. They took Mac with them –

Mac? That's MacKenzie, our little sister. She's the product of Mom and Mike.

So as I was saying, they went, they took Mac, and they're going to be gone for two weeks.

Can I handle this? I don't know. You tell me. What if she does something drastic? I can't be around her 24/7, can I? I have separate classes, and she has cheerleading… admittedly, she hasn't really been going to that lately… and we have different friends, as much as we're friends with each other. I don't want to tell anyone else, it'd betray her trust.

You're asking me again, can I handle this? Let me think.

I think I'm going to have to.

Part 4: BROOKE

I'm in love with Sam.

I love Sammy, I love Sammy, and I love Sammy, my Sammy.

I am NOT incoherent! I should go off in a huff at you saying that! I should just sit here for the hour and not say anything.

No, you KNOW I wouldn't do that. I like the sound of my voice too much.

I slept with her a while ago. After I told her about my problems. She let me sleep with her, in her bed, under the covers with her.

Yes, I know. I didn't have sex with her. And I know it sounded like I was implying that I did have sex with her. I would love to have sex with her. But she didn't make any moves, so I didn't either. If anything happens, I would prefer it was her who made the first move, rather than me. Then it wouldn't feel like she was only doing it because she thought it was what I wanted. I want to feel like she wants it as bad as I do. Does that make any sense? But she was so soft, and so warm, and I couldn't help snuggling… just a little bit.

So here's the problem. I love Sam. But she doesn't love me. She's been going on about how she's going to be the best friend she can be, and how I'm her best FRIEND, and she hopes she's my best FRIEND, and all day she's saying FRIEND, FRIEND, always FRIEND.

It's starting to drive me crazier than I already am.

Am I not? I beg to differ.

Well, I went to a real doctor last night, no offense. Sammy came with me. She's so lovely-

That does SO have a bearing on the story! If she was a bitch, she wouldn't have come with me, so it's important that you know she's lovely!

The doctor put me on this medication. He said it was even out the low times and the high times. I told him there hadn't been any high times for over a month. He gave me this really sad look, like he felt sorry for me. I hate when people feel sorry for me.

He also gave me sleeping pills. He said if I slept well, it would be a good step to beating this. Do you think?

No, I didn't think either. He's a quack, always has been. But at least I can sleep.

Can I tell you a story about Sam?

One time I couldn't sleep, it was about three weeks ago. I wandered down to the kitchen to make myself a hot chocolate. I wasn't hoping it would help me sleep. I was just craving hot chocolate. So I went down, made the drink, drank it, and went upstairs. Only I couldn't resist peeking in at Sam. So I did.

She's the most gorgeous thing I have ever set eyes on, honestly. She looked like a dark angel. No, not like the show, even though that chick had her moments. Mmm… But she wasn't my Sammy. Sam is an incredibly gorgeous paradox. She was so peaceful. She was so open and unassuming. She was my Sammy.

No, that was it. That was the story. I just wanted to share. I'm going to go now. I don't think there's really anything else to say at the moment.

Part 5: SAM

The past weeks have been the scariest in my life.

You want to know what happened with Brooke? Well, you probably already know anyway. It's been over the whole school that SOMETHING happened, it's just that most people don't know exactly WHAT. But I'm sure the faculty knows.

My PARENTALS don't even know.

I came home late the other week. I didn't want to, but I had to stay late after school. I was working on the paper, trying to get it ready before the deadline. And when I went to get a lift home, no one was going my way. And of course, given the late hour, Brooke had already left for home.

I walked.

It took me twenty minutes, because I could sense there was something wrong. Usually it takes me anywhere from half an hour to forty-five minutes to walk it. I don't know why I sensed there was something wrong, but I'm thankful I walked fast. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't.

When I opened the front door, I called out to Brooke. Nothing. I went upstairs looking for her. I looked in her room and she wasn't there. She wasn't in my room either, even though I thought she might be. Sometimes, lately, she just sits on my bed and waits for me to come up to my room. It'd be kind of creepy if it were anyone else doing it.

The next place I checked was the bathroom, and I wish with all my might I had checked it first. Maybe I would have been able to stop her…

She was lying in a heap next to the tub. That's the best way to describe it, I think. Next to the heap on the floor that was Brooke, there was an all-too-familiar, empty packet. I picked it up, just to confirm my fears.

God, she'd taken her entire supply of sleeping pills!

She was still conscious, barely. That's how I knew she must have just taken them, and why I thought if I had checked the bathroom first I could have stopped her. I called 911, then ran back to her and cradled her in my arms. I rocked her back and forth, and she sort of sank into me.

"Why, Brooke? Dear God, why?" I asked no one in particular. I didn't expect an answer from her. I don't know if even SHE really knows why she did it. Tears were rolling down my face unchecked. Until they dripped on Brooke's forehead, I hadn't even realized I was crying. But of course I was crying! I love her. She's like a sister to me. I love her as much as I love my Mom, or MacKenzie.

I could hear the ambulance sirens coming up the street. "Hang on, Brooke," I pleaded. It wasn't any good. She was fading fast, right before my eyes. The last thing she did before falling unconscious was reach her head up to kiss me. It wasn't even a kiss, really, more of a brushing of her lips against mine. I didn't know what to think. I started to say something, but she was already unconscious.

The ambo crew was really nice. They loaded Brooke into the ambulance, and then they let me ride with them. There was this nice lady who put her arm around me and let me cry on her shoulder. Boy, did I cry. I don't think I've cried that hard before in my life. When… when my Dad died, I felt like I had to be strong, for my mother. But now, it was different. I could cry for Brooke, because somebody had to. She had to know that there was someone who cared about her.

They pumped her stomach at the hospital. Everyone told me she was going to be fine, because I had called 911 so promptly, but I refused to believe them until I saw it with my own eyes. Finally they let me sit with her. She looked so small, so fragile on that hospital bed. I thought she was going to die. I thought I was going to die, I felt so awful. I wished like anything I hadn't stayed behind at school, I wished I had checked the bathroom first, and I wished I understood her better. Nothing helped.

I don't know how long it was before she woke up, but it seemed like an eternity. I think I cried steadily for the whole time. When she did wake up, she was groggy, but she recognized me, thank God.

"Sammy? Where am I?" she asked me, incredibly cliché, but I didn't care.

"In the hospital. You tried to KILL yourself," I sobbed. She started crying too.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," she wailed. I looked at her.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered. That was what I wanted to know.

"I love you," she replied, which I'm not even sure answered the question. I'm going to pretend it didn't, because if she meant she tried to kill herself due to unrequited love for me, I don't think I could go on.

"You kissed me, before you passed out," I told her gently. She went red.

"I needed to," she said softly, not offering any further explanation. . I didn't press her. I felt bad enough as it was.

"We're going to get through this," I vowed. I also vowed, silently, not to bring up the kiss again. Because I still don't feel that way about her… and not to be conceited, but I think maybe that's half the problem.

Maybe.

Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. She's home now, and I'm not planning on telling the parentals. I'm not sure how that's going to work, but I won't tell them if I don't have to. I owe Brooke that much. She's getting help, now. She's seeing some psychiatrist, she tells me she had been, even before the incident. She says he's really nice. I hope so, for all of our sakes.

I hug her a lot now. She seems to need it. If I see her sitting, just thinking, alone with her thoughts, I go over and hug her. I tell her I'll be here for her, that I'm her friend. I hug her all the time. Sometimes she comes up to me and hugs me too. I think that's a good sign, don't you?

Yeah. Maybe.

She hasn't kissed me again. She hasn't even tried anything. Sometimes she sleeps in my bed with me, and I'll wake to see her crying silently, great heaving noiseless sobs of anguish that I can't fix. She watches me, while she cries, so she sees when I wake up. And when I see her, I cry too. Then she starts crying harder, as if she's sorry for making me cry. Something is still very wrong with her, but I think maybe it's getting better. I haven't caught her crying like that in over a week.

If I'm totally honest, I think she kind of likes me. I know, that sounds like I'm totally in love with myself, but I think that's what all the signs have been pointing to. The only problem is, like I've said, I don't feel that way about her. There's… there's someone else. Someone else I'd like to be with. That's not to say that I don't love Brooke, but I can't think of her that way. I'm just scared to tell her in case that really is the problem. What do you think?

I guess you're right. Don't rock the boat if the waves are already choppy, or something like that, right? Okay. Guess that's it then.

See ya round, Doc.

End