Strange Road to Salvation
|~ Scouts Honor ~|~ Flip Sides Of The Same Coin ~|~ Beware Rodeo Drive ~|~ Lunchtime Confessions ~|
"You were never a Girl Scout," she harassed after Mike and Jane left the room. Brooke looked back at her indignant.
"Was too. I was a Brownie and then a Girl Scout. I even made Junior Leader before I left. Why? Jealous?" Sam stuck out her chin and shook her hed in defiance.
"No," she answered simply.
"What's the matter, Sam? Weren't you a Girl Scout?"
"I was a Brownie�for a while," Sam hedged. Brooke grinned. (This was going to be good>
"What did you do?" she asked. Sam flushed red and looked at the floor.
"Well, I don't like to be laughed at, you know that, right?" Brooke nodded.
"I know that fact very intimately," she pointed out.
"Yeah, well," Sam continued. "There was this boy, Boy Scout actually, who made fun of my beanie. You know, the little brown thingie you wear on your head?"
"I remember it."
"Well, he took it off my head and threw it in the boys bathroom when we were six. Didn't stop me from going after it, though. And beating the crud out of him afterward." Brooke burst out laughing at the image of an indignant Sam McPherson going into the boy's bathroom at six years old to retrieve her Brownie beanie. "They threw me out of Scouts for that."
"Well, he deserved to get beat up," Brooke laughed when Sam finished her story. Sam shrugged as she laughed too.
"Yeah, well, to hear Harrison tell the story, he says I overreacted and didn't beat him up too bad." Brooke started laughing again.
"Oh, God, I think I remember that! He was mortified that he was beaten up by a girl! That was you! I told him then that he deserved it." Sam smiled.
"Thank you," she responded. She looked at the clock. "We'd better get a move on if we're going to make it to the rehab center on time."
"All right, off to the showers with you, Sam," Brooke ordered sternly. "There will be no slacking off because the parentals are out of town."
"My, my. So demanding. If you wanted to see me in the buff, just ask, Brooke. No need to get bossy," Sam tsked making Brooke drop the dish in her hand which thankfully didn't break. She stared at Sam incredulously. Sam shrugged.
"What?"
"Comments like that could seriously lead to trouble," Brooke said in all seriousness while turning away from Sam. Sam contemplated this for a minute.
"What if I'm looking for trouble?" she challenged back. Brooke honestly had no response.
"Suit yourself, Sam," was all she managed.
"Thanks, I think I will."
"Sam," Brooke started her tone warning. She turned around but Sam had already wheeled away to the bathroom. Brooke sighed. Things were getting more and more complicated faster than she could keep up. And Sam wasn't helping any.
(What the Hell is going on between us? Her comments lately have been more than friendly flirting, they've bordered on the outright suggestive. Could Sam have feelings for me like I do for her? She was pressed up pretty close to me this morning and she leaned into my hand when I wiped away her tears. And she wiped away mine last night. This is more than just friendship or sisterly bonding going on, I know it. But, what if I'm reading more into it than it actually is?)
Brooke's head swimmed with thoughts that she couldn't straighten out. There was no doubt in her mind now that she desperately loved Sam, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, every once of her being was consumed by her feelings for Sam. She wanted nothing more than to tell Sam how she felt but fear of rejection and losing the close relationship they now had stopped her. She figured if she was wrong and Sam was just playing and didn't feel the same way, that Sam would be insulted by Brooke's feelings and revert to the vindictive hurtful ways they used to act towards each other. And Brooke knew that that would destroy her.
(I'm finally getting to know her, beyond the walls, barriers and fa�ade that Sam created to protect her emotions after her dad died. Maybe what I see as feelings for me is just how she really is, her real emotions that she doesn't let anyone see and not anything more than that. And if I tell her that I love her and she doesn't feel the same, I might lose everything)
A few errant tears slipped down Brooke's face into the sink as she tried to sort out her thoughts. Anyway she tried, she couldn't get the answer she wanted, wouldn't let herself have the answer she wanted. Pushing away from the sink, she went to get dressed and start her day, another day quietly pining for whom and what she knew she could never have.
After returning from rehab, Sam toweled herself off after a quick shower and carefully went about getting dressed without assistance. She idly wondered if hitting Brooke over the head with a large rainbow colored object would be too obvious. (Maybe make her listen to Melissa Etheridge all day? Nah, she's a cheerleader; she still wouldn't get the point)
She sat on her bed and thought about her rather brazen declaration that she was looking for trouble. (God, I'll be lucky if SHE doesn't run me over with her car now. What was I thinking? Brooke doesn't see me an anything other than a friend, a sister-to-be despite whatever friendly flirting we do. She's just practicing with me until the next bronze Adonis comes along to take her away from me) she lamented. (Although, she had a pretty strong grip on me when I woke up this morning) she remembered. (And if I keep thinking along these lines, I'm going to need another shower, a COLD one)
She was in the middle of fastening her bra when the door opened and in walked Brooke.
"Hey, Sam, have you seen my hairbrush?" Brooke stopped short as Sam sat there with her bra in one hand and a shocked look on her face. Brooke blushed. She had helped Sam dress but usually Sam wore a sports bra and Brooke had never actually seen her, ah, naked. Sam let out a small yelp.
"Knock much, Brooke?" she asked, embarrassed. Her voice was quiet. Brooke brought one hand up to her eyes to shield them and Sam rolled her eyes.
"I am so sorry," Brooke started. Sam sighed. She was embarrassed, yes, but what was done was done.
"Whatever. You wanna shut the door before you give Mike and Mom a show and REALLY make them wonder about that comment you made at breakfast this morning?" Brooke still didn't budge. Sam glanced down at her chest. There was still some scarring but she didn't think it was that bad. She frowned. "What? Am I that ugly?" she asked, hurt and insult creeping into her voice.
Brooke dropped her hand and to her disappointment and elation (Is that possible?) Sam still hadn't covered herself. Sam's face bore a look of confusion mixed with hurt and a little fear. Brooke shook her head as she shut the door.
"No, Sam," she answered, amazed at how normal her voice sounded given how shakey she actually felt inside. She was seriously contemplating another cold shower. "You're not ugly. Far from it. You look fine. Better than fine actually. I was just surprised, is all. And embarrassed, for you." Sam shrugged both in relief and confusion at Brooke's statements. (I really wish I could figure her out. She confuses the Hell out of me sometimes. So she doesn't think my breasts are ugly, that's a plus)
"Well, you've seen them now, can't change that. I got tired of the sports bra and since we're going shopping for clothes I thought I'd go for a real bra for a change," she explained as she resumed trying to fasten the blasted thing. Again she cursed the man who invented the medieval contraption. Seeing that she wasn't going to be able to do it alone with a cast still on one arm, Brooke walked over and offered her help.
"May I?" Sam nodded and Brooke willed her hands not to shake. All too quickly for Brooke's satisfaction, the deed was done and she stepped away. "All set, Sammy. Next time, I'll knock."
"Like I said, you've seen them now so what's the point in false modesty?" Sam asked nonchalantly as she pulled a shirt on over her head. Brooke stared at her surprised at the girl's calm demeanor. If someone had just walked in on her half dressed she probably would have freaked. But then, Sam was acting kind of left of center lately. If Sam were still taking her meds she'd blame it on that but she wasn't and that left Brooke with no other options. (Probably the only chance I'll get to see her like that anyway. Should enjoy it while I can) Brooke told herself> Sam smoothed down her hair and pointed to the vanity table.
"Your hairbrush is where you left it this morning, over there," Brooke followed Sam's hand and saw her brush on the vanity. She picked it up and ran it through her hair as Sam watched. (Well, it wasn't a rainbow flag but it'll do. Probably the only way I'll get to show Brooke my assets, so that was fun) Sam laughed to herself. Brooke put down the brush and turned back to Sam.
"Ready to go charge up a storm?" Brooke asked. Sam smirked.
"Lead the way."
"Seriously, Brooke, I don't think he meant any harm," Sam tried, unsuccessfully to calm her incredibly irate shopping partner. Brooke's face was bright red with rage and she was breathing heavily through her nose. Sam thought she resembled a bull about to charge a Matador.
"That's not the point, Sam," she bit back through barely surpressed rage. Her shoulders shook and she had a white-knuckle grip on the handles of Sam's wheelchair.
"I know, but he was just trying to be, what's the word, chivalrous?" Sam offered. Brooke wasn't calmed.
"He was being ignorant. Just because you're in a wheelchair doesn't mean you're an invalid, retarded, or incapable of understanding what people are saying or doing around you!" Brooke ranted. Sam surpressed a giggle. Brooke was so cute when she was being indignant.
"He had no way of knowing I wasn't any of the above, Brooke. Come on, there was a time you would have killed to have a guy that drop dead gorgeous hit on you! Just because he thought I was your mentally handicapped sister doesn't mean he's an insensitive prick," she was openly laughing now.
The incident started simply enough. They had just come from one of the many stores on the strip, loaded with bags when this blonde haired, blue eyed, poster boy for Body Works bumped into Sam's chair. He was, to put it mildly, the bronze Adonis Sam had been thinking about losing Brooke to earlier. Well tone, tanned and sculpted to perfection. He, Milo, had apologized profusely to Brooke while totally ignoring Sam. While Brooke fussed over Sam and whether she was all right, Milo had tried everything he could to get Brooke's name, number, anything but she had steadfastly ignored him.
Until she insisted he apologize to Sam for bumping into her. Milo was confused having assumed that Sam was mentally deficient and didn't know anything had happened. But he apologized, however half-heartedly and then offered to push Sam's chair to give Brooke's `little bitty arms a rest'. Sam never heard such language come from Brooke and wished she had a tape recorder to have the spectacle on record for a souvenir. Needless to say, Milo went running under threat of bodily harm.
Brooke let out a frustrated sigh. (Maybe at one time I would have jumped at the chance, Sam. But not now. He wasn't you and all I'm interested in now is you) She turned her now calmer eyes to the mirth filled ones of her shopping companion and scowled.
"You find this funny?" Sam shook her head.
"Kinda, but only in the sense that I never figured you for jumping to my defense like that," her smirk deepened, as did her eye color in the bright California sushine. "It was kinda sexy." Brooke's eyes widened and she wanted to act appalled but she couldn't stop the answering smirk from spreading across her own face.
"Yeah, well don't get used to it, McPherson. Jump to your own defense next time," she instructed. Sam looked momentarily crestfallen.
"Just as soon as I'm capable of jumping anywhere, I will," she responded coolly. Brooke mentally kicked herself for her comment. Although Sam's hot and cold running moods were starting to tire her out.
"Sam, I didn't mean," Sam interrupted her.
"So, where to next, oh, mighty God of the Shop-o-holics?" Brooke sighed. (There we go again. Manic-depressive Sam. Scary)
"Let's just go along the boardwalk until something catches our eye," she suggested. Sam nodded. Still feeling guilty over the `jumping' comment, she impulsively leaned down and placed a light kiss to Sam's right temple. "I really am sorry for that comment, you know."
Recovering from the momentary shock of the featherlight kiss and the tingles it sent throughout her body, Sam nodded and sighed.
"I know. You know, since you not so politely informed him that I was not your sister, Milo probably figures that we're together. You know, as in TOGETHER, TOGETHER," she pointed out playfully, needing to draw attention away from how close they were getting. Brooke laughed.
"Probably," she agreed.
(I wish)
(I wish)
"Why did you do it, Sam?" Brooke asked suddenly the next day. Sam looked up from her lunch in totally confusion. She was beginning to need a score card to keep up with Brooke.
"Huh?" Sam asked articulately. Brooke sighed and stared at her untouched food, turning a lettuce leaf over with her fork. The question had been haunting her and she needed an answer.
"Why did you do it? Why did you push me out of the way?" Brooke's voice was very quiet and barely carried over to where Sam sat across the table. Sam put her sandwich down and repeated herself.
"Again, `huh'? What kind of question is that and where is this coming from? Does left field know you stole its question? And eat something will you? Don't think I didn't notice that you skipped breakfast. Mom and Mike left us in charge of one another, I watch you, you watch me, now eat. Or I'll force you to watch Pokemon 2000 again." Brooke picked at her salad for a few minutes more before asking again.
"I don't get it, Sam. I mean, I thank God everyday that you did it. I know it's selfish, but I do. I'm glad I'm alive and I know that the only reason I am right now is because of you. Because you were willing to sacrifice so much for me. I just don't understand why and I need to." Sam sighed and gave up trying to finish her lunch for the time being. Brooke was in one of her moods again and it was pointless to try and do anything else until it passed.
"Why do you need to? Don't you think you're worth the sacrifice? Which, by the way, is way too strong a word," she countered. She couldn't believe that Brooke didn't think her life was worth saving, which was the impression Sam was getting.
(I'd sacrifice myself a thousand times for you, Brooke. I wish you knew and understood that)
"I need to know, Sam. You saw that car heading towards me and you acted without thinking about your own safety. It was a sacrifice. You could have and nearly were killed. I don't understand. Given our relationship, our history it doesn't make sense." Sam leaned across the table and put her hand on Brooke's. They both tried to ignore the jolt of energy that ran from their hands through their arms and then throughout their entire bodies. Since Sam's `looking for trouble' comment, the bra and Milo incidents the day before, they were both treading lightly, afraid of crossing some invisible line.
"The word history alludes to the past, as in over and done with. Whatever our relationship was, as rivals or enemies or whatever, it had changed. Our families had come together whether we liked it or not and as much as I like the thought of having the bathroom to myself, I would never, read: EVER, wish any harm to come to you."
"Is that why?" Brooke asked sounding like a very frightened child in the middle of a thunderstorm.
"Brooke, everything happened so fast that I had no chance to think about why. I just saw the car and reacted. There is no why. I couldn't let you get hit. I didn't think about the consequences." A few tears ran silently down Brooke's face. "I'm sorry if that's hard to live with, Brooke. I never thought about what it must be like for you. I should have."
(Or I could tell you the truth and tell you I love you and would gladly die in your place if that's what it took to keep you safe. No, I think my answer is enough)
"Me? Sam, if it hadn't been for you I'd be dead. That's all there is to it," Brooke said simply through her tears. Sam shook her head.
"But you're not and neither am I. But what I meant was I didn't think about what it was like for you to live with seeing that. I know you have the nightmares and I'm sorry," she apologized as she realized that while she had the physical scars, they both shared the emotional ones. Brooke looked away.
"Don't apologize for saving my life, Sam. I'm just so sorry that you had to chose between your life and mine. It never should have happened," Brooke responded looking at the floor. It wasn't a memory she liked to think about but it was one she relived every day and dreamed each night.
"You're right, it shouldn't have. But thanks to Nicole it did. But Brooke, what I don't understand is why you don't seem to think your life was worth saving. It was, it still is. I don't regret, for a single instant the choice I made. Sure I could have done without the pain and crap that went with it but given the choice between that or a life without you in it, cut off my legs and cut out my tongue and call me a happy person. At least we'd both still be alive."
"Sam," Brooke sighed still not looking up.
"Hey, look at me," Sam commanded gently. Brooke looked up slowly. "Still here, Brooke and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Chair notwithstanding and I still wouldn't go anywhere if I weren't literally a fifth wheel. Or in this case two very large ones."
"Why do you do that?" Brooke asked slightly annoyed.
"Oh, more questions. What?"
"Joke. When things get serious you joke. Why do you do that?"
"Because I suck at emotional exchanges?" Sam asked, only half-kidding.
"Fair enough," Brooke agreed. "So, we have no reason why you shoved me out of the way, just that you reacted. And I have no way of ever repaying you for that." Sam shook her head.
"You don't have to, Brooke. I didn't do it because I wanted something in return. I had no ulterior motive. I told you, I had no time to think about what I was doing, I just reacted. Besides, you've been more to me, done more for me than I could have ever asked you to since then. You have been right there, through it all, good and bad, holding my hand and telling me it was going to be all right. You never left me and I can never pay you back for that."
"Consider us even then?" (Although, Sam, I can never truly repay you for all you've given me)
"You bet! Now, can we finish lunch because I'm still hungry," Sam begged, reaching for her sandwich again.
"You and your stomach! Now I know where Mac gets her appetite from," Brooke joked.
"I'll have you know I am a growing girl," Sam informed her haughtily.
"God, into what?" Brooke asked fearfully. Sam arched an eyebrow and frowned.
"Oh, keep it up and we'll see who gets to pick out what movie we watch tonight, missy," Brooke's eyes widened.
"Oh, no, please, anything but that. Please don't make me watch Coyote Ugly, AGAIN!"
"Hey, it's better than The Skulls."
"Hey, I liked that movie!" Brooke argued.
"You just like to watch Paul Walker," Sam countered. Brooke shrugged. "Can I ask you a question now, Brooke?" Sam asked suddenly serious. Brooke nodded. "What's with the calling me `Sammy'? I don't mind it, really. It's just something usually reserved for a parent or someone really close to me to call me." Brooke looked away hurt.
"And you don't think I'm close to you," she said more as a statement than as a question. (Oh, that stung) Brooke thought.
"I didn't mean it like that. I meant close to me emotionally. I know I'm not the most emotionally available person Brooke, and when you call me Sammy it sounds so sweet, so intimate. I don't know, I just wanted to know why you call me that sometimes," she looked away, embarrassed.
"Because I do feel close to you Sammy. Emotionally. How can I not after everything that's happened? You're my hero, Sammy. Without you, I'd be a footnote on the memorial page of the yearbook. You're my best friend, my antithesis, my stepsister, my rival, my savior and my saint all in one package. I'm sorry if that sounds a little corny but it's how I feel. When I call you Sammy it's my way of keeping you closer than anyone else because I know it's a name reserved for those closest to you. But I'll stop if it bothers you." Sam wiped away the tears that had fallen down her face as she listened to Brooke's explaination. That girl never ceased to surprise or touch her like no other. Everyday her love for her grew deeper.
"Please don't stop. I like hearing it from you, really, Brooke. Especially if that's why you do it. I just wanted to know why is all," she looked back up at Brooke and Brooke knew that she meant it.
"OK, Sammy. Pass the dressing, please," Sam complied and they ate in compatible silence.
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