Section 7: Dad
|~ Putting The `Fun' In Dysfunctional ~|~ What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar? ~|~ Feverdreams, Nightmares And Arguments ~||~ Leaving On A Jet Plane ~|~ You Are The Weakest Link-Good Bye ~|~ Ghosts And Camels ~|~ You Can Sleep While I Drive ~|

Author's Notes: Oh, if you're a Mike fan, and I know you three are out there, you ain't gonna like me in a few minutes. And please don't ever ask where my chapter titles come from, sometimes they make sense, sometimes they don't and others are vague references to old cartoons, jokes or TV shows/movies that I'm probably the only person who's ever seen.

Section 7: Dad

PUTTING THE `FUN' IN DYSFUNCTIONAL

Mike was sitting in the kitchen when Brooke walked in with a worried expression on her face. He had been waiting for her, and Sam and Jane actually. They had all asked to talk to him about something, something apparently very big. Brooke spared him a wary smile and stood there chewing on her thumb, a habit she hadn't resorted to in years. Now Mike knew something big was up.

"What's the matter, honey? You look really spooked."

Brooke shrugged and walked to the fridge and got out a bottle of water, which she preceded to turn over in her hands. Another nervous habit. "I'd rather wait for Jane and Sam, Dad," she whispered. She sounded frightened.

Mike was confused. He always felt that he and Brooke had a wonderful open relationship where they could talk to each other. But lately it seemed like she was pulling away from him and he had no idea why. (Is it drugs? Could she be pregnant? Is she eating?) He mulled over the possibilities in his mind until Sam and Jane walked in the room looking equally cautious. Now he was getting nevous.

"Mike," Jane started after the girls just looked at her and said nothing. "The girls and I need to talk to you about something."

Mike put down his bagel and gave them his attention. "OK, shoot. What's going on with my favorite ladies today? You're all wound up like spring toys ready to pop so, spill it."

Brooke took a deep breath. "Dad, you'd love me, no matter what, right?"

Mike frowned. "Of course I would? What kind of question is that? You're my first little girl, nothing can change how I feel about you, Brooke," he told her confused by the question.

"And you care about Sam, right? You could never hate her no matter what she did right?"

"What's going on here?" Mike directed the question at Jane, his anxiety level raising a few notches.

"Just answer her, Mike. It's important," Jane told him quietly.

"Yes, I care about Sam like she was another daughter. I tried to adopt her but she wouldn't let me, remember? And I respected that decision. Will someone please tell me what is going on here?"

"Dad, I don't know how to tell you this but, Sam and I, that is to say, uhm.we're gay," Brooke stuttered out finally.

Mike blinked at her for a few minutes in shock. "Gay? As in really really happy or as in homosexual, Brooke?"

"Both, actually," Brooke said with a nervous laugh. "But mostly the latter."

"I don't understand, Brooke. You dated Josh and there was Harrison and..."

"And they were mistakes, Dad. I didn't want to face that but they were. I'm gay." There, she said it and the world didn't end.

"But you're a cheerleader," Mike argued. (Argh)

"Being straight is not a prerequisite for making the squad, although Mary Cherry might change that soon." Brooke huffed annoyed. (Especially if she ever finds out about Nicole)

Mary Cherry had taken the news rather well, after she got over her whole Christian, incest was a sin and that Brooke and Sam had a first class set of front row tickets on the express train to Hell rant. Sam had not so subtly reminded her that not only was she so inbred that she had webbed toes and hands but that her father was a gay drag queen. That took the wind right out of the girls' blustery sails and she then suggested that they `bond' over the thing, which sent Brooke and Sam running for the nearest exit post haste. But this whole But-You're-A-Cheerleader-Syndrome was really starting to bug Brooke.

"Are you sure this isn't a phase or something, Brooke? All teenagers question their sexuality from time to time."

"Trust me Dad, I went over that for a while. This is no phase, it's the real deal."

Mike was silent for a few minutes and Brooke glanced at Sam nervously. Sam shrugged back.

"Honey," Mike said finally, "you're just lonely."

Brooke rolled her eyes. She'd been waiting for this, expecting it.

"You've had some bad experiences with guys and now you're confused. Trust me, the right guy will come along eventually and things will clear right up." Mike smiled, apparently happy with his deduction. Sam sent her mother a desperate glance.

"Mike," Jane started.

"Dad," Brooke broke in at the same time, standing closer to Sam now, needing her support. "I don't think you're following the conversation." The smile faded from Mike's face and his expression turned cold.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Brooke," he said simply.

Brooke felt her anger level rise at that statement. "I never said there was, Dad," she shot back angrily. "I said I was gay, not wrong. The two are not mutually exclusive, you know."

"Brooke, calm down," Sam finally spoke up.

Mike turned to her with a deadly glare. "You stay out of this," he growled at her. "This is family business."

Right about then all Hell broke loose in the McQueen kitchen. Jane and Brooke saw the look of utter hurt and rejection that Sam was unable to mask from her features. And then they watched every wall and defense she ever had go right back up stronger then ever and her normally kind and friendly brown eyes turn dull and cold. They both knew that Mike had just hit a particularly sore spot with Sam.

"You're right, Mike. I was never a part of this family and I never had any right thinking that I was," she answered in the same cold voice Mike had used. "But this IS my business." Instead of leaving the room, Sam continued to stare down Mike who was unmoved. Brooke and Jane moved to stand between the two. There was a dangerous level of tension between the two.

"Stop it both of you!" Jane ordered. "You're both out of line. Mike, you're upset over Brooke's news and taking it out on Sam and Sam, you're hurt and saying things you don't mean. Now everyone just calm down."

Brooke layed a supportive hand on Sam's shoulder and was surprised to find the other girl shaking. "Calm down, Sammy," she whispered for only Sam to hear. "He didn't mean it." Sam looked into the loving eyes of her girlfriend and felt some of her anger dissipate.

Mike was still shooting daggers at her however. He if caught any of that little exchange, he wasn't letting on. "When did you discover this, Brooke? When did you `decide' you were gay?" he asked contemptously.

Brooke sighed. (This is not going well) "I didn't `decide' anything. It just sort of developed. I started developing feelings for someone, a woman, and they kept getting stronger and we kept getting closer. And I realized that the reason my relationships with men never went anywhere was because they did nothing for me, but she does."

"That's disgusting," Mike spat.

"Oh, please," Sam rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself from commenting.

Mike ignored her. "So who, Brooke? Who have you decided to throw your entire future, your entire life away for, huh? Just because you have no idea what it is you really want?"

Brooke couldn't believe the words coming out of her father's mouth. It was like talking to a stranger. She looked at Sam for reassurance and Sam nodded. Taking strength from Sam and mustering the last of her own courage, Brooke looked her father in the eye and told him the name of the woman who had stolen her heart and soul.

"Sam," she said simply. "I love, am in love with Sam."

Mike jumped up from his seat with a murderous glint in his eye. The only things between him and Sam were Jane and Brooke. And both women were afraid to think what would happen if he got his hands on Sam. Suddenly Sam's fear of wood chippers didn't seem so foolish. "So this is your fault?" he accused dramatically.

Sam glared right back at him. "My fault? Are you some sort of nutcase, Mike?" she asked in all seriousness.

"You did this to my little girl, didn't you? With your `ways'?"

Sam couldn't even begin to fathom what the Hell he was talking about. (Did he and Mary Cherry go to the same class or something, because at least from her it was funny)

"Mike, being gay isn't like a light switch you wake up one morning and decided to flip to the `on' position. You either are or you aren't. I didn't `do' anything to Brooke other than love her. She loves me of her own free will. I didn't ask her to." Sam spoke calmly, not wanting to make the situation worse no matter how hurt or angry she was. It wouldn't help anything and could possibly lead to Brooke getting the bad end of things. She watched as Mike turned an alarming shade of red.

"Get out of my house," he ordered a stunned Sam. She blinked back the sudden tears, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"If she goes, Dad, so do I," Brooke announced firmly. She grabbed Sam's hand tightly in her own. Mike saw this and ground his teeth together. His color started to shift to purple.

"So do Mac and I," Jane added. Mike turned his attention to Jane.

"You knew about this?" she nodded. "How long? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Not long and because I was afraid of this. Mike, you need to calm down. These two really and truly love each other,"

Mike shook his head. "This isn't love, this is sick! I want you both out of my sight," he told Sam and Brooke. Sam moved with Brooke closer to Jane and Mike moved out towards her. They met in the middle of the kitchen. "You've corrupted my baby girl," he snarled.

"I did no such thing, Mike," Sam responded, oddly calm. "I love your daughter. Either accept that or don't. I don't care. But get over your narrow minded, Christian right wing militia, hatred and ignorance before you lose your daughter forever." To the absolute shock of everyone in the room, Mike raised his hand to hit Sam who flinched and waited for the blow to come.

"Daddy no!" Booke called out as Mike's hand was raised in the air above Sam's head. He swung his arm down and stopped mere inches away from Sam's face as Brooke moved to intercept.

"Get out of my house," he repeated in a low, hushed voice. "All of you." He turned and stomped out of the kitchen leaving the three women in stunned silence.

Jane spoke first. "Sam? Are you alright?"

Sam nodded. "I'm fine, Mom," she said, absolutely shocked by the way things played out. She looked over at Brooke who was still staring at the direction her father had gone in. She turned to her mother. "Can you give us a second?"

Jane nodded. "I'll go get Mac ready and meet you at the car. We'll stay at a hotel until he calms down," Jane walked over and put a hand on Brooke's shoulder. "He'll calm down, Brooke, you'll see. This is just a shock. Give him some time." Brooke just nodded a without saying anything and Jane wasn't sure she understood the words.

Sam spared her mother a glance. "Just go, Mom, I'll take care of her," Jane nodded and left the room.

Sam wrapped her arms around the still silent Brooke. "You OK?"

Brooke shook her head. "He was going to hurt you," she said in a voice barely her own. "He's never hit me, no matter what I did, but he was ready to hit you." She turned to Sam and Sam could see the tears in Brooke's eyes. She reached up and caught them as they fell.

"But he didn't Brooke, he stopped himself," Sam reminded her even though her heart was just now returning to its normal rhythm after the incident. She thought Mike was going to hit her too, and she was again thankful they didn't own a woodchipper.

"That wasn't my father," Brooke whispered in disbelief.

Sam sighed. "That was a man faced with a harsh reality he didn't want to face, Brooke. Unfortunately it happens everyday. But Mike's a nice guy, when he's not being totally insane like just now, he'll come around, you'll see," Sam tried to reassure her even though she wasn't so sure herself.

Brooke sniffed and leaned into Sam. "We'd better go pack, huh?"

Sam nodded reluctantly. "Another glorious stay at your local Motel 6 for the McPherson's. At least we have you and Mac to keep us company this time. Trust me, after Mike's stuck in the Palace for a few days by himself with no daughter, fianc�e, baby, or stepdaughter to drive him crazy, he'll be begging us to come home, homosexuality issues aside."

Brooke looked up at her dubiously. "God I hope you're right," she sighed holding Sam tighter, needing her strength.

(So do I Princess, so do I)

WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR A KLONDIKE BAR?

Sam was partially right. A week later, Mike did ask Jane and Brooke to come home but he had no interest in Sam whatsoever. To him, the young brunette simply ceased to exist. He subscribed to the `If you ignore it it doesn't exist' school of thought. Sam shrugged it off but both Jane and Brooke knew that Sam was deeply hurt by it. They told Mike that they would not return to the Palace without her and he reluctantly acquiesced but firmly stated that he did not at anytime want to see or hear from Sam. Which was fine with her since the feeling was entirely mutual.

Mike was also watching poor Brooke like a hawk. She was never at anytime allowed to be in Sam's company alone. The locks were gone from their bedroom doors as well as the bathroom door. Because of Mike's aversion to Sam, Jane had to chaperone the two girls when they were home together. The three of them joked that he probably wouldn't be happy to know that she let them kiss and cuddle when they were together but it wasn't like they were going to tell him. Mike didn't let them talk about the situation either. Whenever Jane or Brooke tried to appoach him about the subject, he let them know on no uncertain terms whose house they were in and where the door was. And dinners were and awkward situation, filled with tense silences and stilted conversations. It reminded Brooke and Sam of how things were when their families first moved in together. It would have been funny, if it wasn't so damn sad.

So Sam was a non-entity. But you can only be invisible for so long until the cosmic forces of the universe get bored and decide to make you visible to the one person who hates you the most. And as such, Sam and Mike accidentally found themselves home alone together one afternoon when Jane was at work and Brooke was still at school.

"I hate my life," Sam grumbled as she walked in the door, home early because the cold she was fighting finally won. Loaded down with books, she collapsed on the couch and sneezed violently. She laid her head on the back of the couch and promptly fell asleep. Mike walked into the livingroom a half-hour later and stopped short.

"What are you doing home from school early? Or don't you go to school anymore?" he asked angrily. Sam woke up groggily, the cold making her foggy and stared at him for a second.

"'M sick, Mike. Nurse sent me home, k?" she responded as she tried to stand up but her legs were wobbly and she ungracefully flopped back down to the couch. Mike was untouched.

"Sure, whatever. I've been meaning to talk to you, Samantha," Sam arched an eyebrow. Mike never called her 'Samantha' and he had barely given her the time of day in two weeks and now he wanted to talk to her. (This can't be good)

"Sure," Sam answered weakly, really not feeling well. (Trust him to pick a time when I feel like crap to get into a rumble with me)

"What do you get out of this?" he asked, his anger and outrage showing in his voice. Sam's confusion and shock showed on her face.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, trying desperately to keep up with the conversation.

"Playing with my daughter's affections like this. What do you get out of it?" Sam stared at him in absolute mute shock. Mike continued. "Is this some sort of twisted plan on your part to finally destroy things between your mother and I? Because I have to tell you, it's working pretty damn well, you've got her believing that whatever you feel for Brooke is genuine. Let's face facts, Sam, the only person you care about is yourself. So, tell me, what do you get out of this?" Sam was still unable to form a pertinent response, whether it was from the fever she was running or disbelief at the words she was hearing she didn't know. Thinking he had hit the nail on the head, Mike laughed and kept going on his little diatribe.

"See, you can't even answer me. You're preying on Brooke because she's vulnerable right now. Harrison and Josh left her emotionally vulnerable and you're taking advantage because you're sexually ambiguous not to mention highly ambitious and willing to screw over anyone you have to to get what you want." By now anger had propelled Sam to her feet and she slapped Mike hard across the face. Her face was contorted in barely controlled rage.

"You ignorant, narrow-minded, homophobic, bigoted asshole! I swear all you're missing is a white sheet! You have no idea what you're talking about! How someone like you could have raised someone as loving and gentle as Brooke boggles the mind. I am not using Brooke, I love her. If that's too much for you to handle, well, then tough. I'm sick and tired of walking on eggshells because you've got some sort of issues with your sexuality."

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady," Mike warned.

Sam flashed a feral smile. "Don't talk to me like you're my father, M-I-K-E," she enunciated the name annoyingly slow. The room was beginning to spin and she knew she had to get up to bed before the cold and fever knocked her off her feet and Mike threw her out the door while she was unconscious.

"I'm not going to let you rip this family apart," Mike warned while wagging his finger at her. If he wasn't so fuzzy, Sam figured he'd look funny.

"I'm not the one doing it, Mike," Sam said tiredly. "You are." She grabbed her stuff and headed towards the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not finished here, young lady! Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you," Sam stopped and turned around for a minute at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mike, I'm genuinely sick and need to rest. Whether you believe me or not, I could care less. And we are finished because we're not talking, you're ranting, raving, spewing homophobic hatred and ignorance and not listening to a word I say. When you're ready to listen to reason, or at least calm down and remember that you're the adult here, come talk to me again. Until then, leave me alone, please."

Finished dealing with Mike for the time being and feeling worse with every passing second, Sam climbed over the stairs and barely made it to her bed before she collapsed, physically and emotionally exhausted. She quickly fell into a feverish sleep and longed for Brooke to hurry home.

FEVERDREAMS, NIGHTMARES, AND ARGUMENTS

"Sam, come on, you have to eat something," Brooke coaxed the sick girl. Sam groaned and turned away. Eating was definitely something she never wanted to do again. It wasn't a cold, it was the unholy flu.

"Go 'way, Brooke, 'for you get sick, too," Sam protested. Brooke smiled at the concern but was unswayed. She was worried when Sam wasn't at lunch earlier and even more worried when Lily said she's gone home sick. Sam wasn't known for going home sick or missing much school at all, in fact. If you're not there, you might miss a juicy tidbit of journalistic information. So Brooke had gone home after lunch to check on her, found her father absolutely livid and then worried he'd actually done Sam in when she discovered that the two of them had had an altercation. He'd bellowed something about 'getting Sam the Hell out of his house if he had to get a court order to do it' and stomped off again and Brooke went to find Sam.

Sam was dead asleep on top of her covers fully clothed and bathed in sweat. She'd caught the awful flu that was presently decimating most of Kennedy High. Thankfully, Brooke had been smart enough to get a flu shot, but not Sam, not I-never-get-the-flu Sam. (This'll teach her) Brooke thought sadly as she put a cold compress on Sam's flushed forehead and tried again to get her to eat some chicken soup.

"Eat some soup, Sammy," Brooke whispered. Sam shook her head.

"Why? So I can throw it back up again? No thanks," she retorted with a sigh. She hated being sick, but she loved having Brooke take care of her. (Guilty pleasure, bad Sammy) Sam scolded herself weakly. She loved being in Brooke's arms and being sick gave her a reason that wouldn't make Mike freak too bad.

"Come on, Sammy, for me?" Brooke begged. Sam's eyes opened fractionally and she frowned.

"Cheater," she accused. Brooke smiled. She knew that would work even if it was a dirty trick. Sam managed to choke down a few mouthfuls of lukewarm soup before shaking her head for Brooke to stop.

"OK, enough for now, I get the point," Brooke assured her. Sam settled back into Brooke's embrace while Brooke stroked her damp hair away from her face. "I heard you and Dad had a meeting of the minds earlier." She watched Sam's nose wrinkle in distaste.

"It was one sided. I was armed, he wasn't," Sam whispered tiredly. She snuggled deeper into Brooke's arms needing to feel better anyway she could. Brooke always made her feel better, emotionally and physically. Brooke giggled slightly at Sam's comment.

"There was a time I would have been insulted by that comment but I'm sure he wasn't. He didn't hurt you, did he?" she asked, honestly afraid that without her or Jane was referee, Mike had hit Sam. She felt Sam shake her head.

"No," Sam yawned. "I hit him. Sorry." Brooke sighed.

"He probably deserved it. What did he say?"

"'M tired, Brooke. Don' wanna talk about it right now. Can I get some sleep instead?" Sam asked, sounding just as tired as she said she was. Brooke mentally kicked herself for interrogating the ill girl and hugged the quaking form in her arms.

"Of course, Sammy. Sleep, I'll keep you safe," she whispered. She felt rather than saw Sam smile.

"You always do, Princess."

They were both woken later by a pair of angry voices carrying down the hall. Brooke looked down at Sam who looked back with red rimmed, sick but awake eyes.

"Mom and Mike," she pointed out sadly. Brooke nodded. They sat silently and listened.

"She can't stay here, Jane. This is my house and she isn't welcome here!"

"How can you say that? She's my daughter! If she isn't welcome here than neither am I! Neither is Mac!"

"You're my fiancee, I love you and Mac is my daughter, same as Brooke is. Sam means nothing to me!" Brooke held Sam closer to her as an ever so small sob slipped past Sam's lips and she buried her face in Brooke's chest.

"Jane, don't you see what she's doing? She doesn't care for Brooke like she says she does. She's just using her to break us up. She's been trying to break us up since day one. She can't stand the thought of you being with anyone other than Joe. This is the only way she has left to stop you from moving on with your own life."

"That's a lie and you know it! Sam wants nothing more than for me to be happy and she knows that being with you makes me happy. Or at least it used to until you started acting this way!"

"Is the fact that Sam is gay and involved with Brooke making you happy?" There was a pause before Jane answered.

"At first, no. But then I talked to her, and Brooke, Mike. And I saw the love between them. They're happy together, Mike and that makes me happy. Damnit, that's enough."

"How the Hell do we explain this to MacKenzie when she's old enough to understand?"

"Good question," Sam whispered. Brooke 'shushed' her.

"We cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, she'll grow up with it as an everyday thing, it won't strike her as abnormal. Mike, you have to stop blaming Sam for this, it isn't anyone's fault."

"That's where you're wrong. It IS Sam's fault. I'm losing you, I'm losing Brooke and it's all Sam's fault. This isn't normal, Jane and I won't accept it as such. Somehow Sam has played on Brooke's confusion and vulnerability and after she gets what she wants, she'll leave Brooke, broken and destroyed on the side of the road and move on to someone new. I won't stand by and watch her destroy my daughter."

"God, I never knew you thought so little of Sam."

"I always liked Sam but I questioned her ethics. You remember how far she was willing to go to get a story, what she'd do to hurt Brooke? How can you stand there and tell me that this is the same girl professing her undying love for Brooke when a year ago she was tearing her apart in the school paper every chance she got?"

"That was different, Mike. There's a thin line between love and hate."

"That's a weak excuse, Jane."

"It's the truth."

"Your truth. My truth is that this is not a topic open for discussion. Either they knock it off or Sam leaves, am I making myself clear?"

"..."

"I'm serious, Jane."

"How is telling them to 'knock it off' any better than the pranks they used to play to break us up?"

"We're finished with this conversation."

Sam and Brooke heard Mike walk down the hall and a door slam somewhere else in the house. A few seconds later, there was a soft knock on their door.

"Come in," Brooke called softly. Jane walked in, tears still evident on her face. She gave the two a weak smile.

"How you feeling sweety?" she asked Sam as she sat on the bed and felt Sam's forehead. She was worried at how hot Sam felt. Sam spared her a weak smile.

"Like I'm heading to the gallows in the morning," Sam responded. Jane sighed.

"I take it you two overheard?" Both girls nodded. "We'll find a way through this, I promise."

"We know," Brooke answered. Sam yawned and closed her eyes, snuggling close to Brooke and letting the flu take her away from the cold reality she didn't feel like dealing with at the moment. Brooke and Jane exchanged concerned and wary glances over her sick form.

"I promise," Jane repeated.

Another pair of angry voices, these two closer and even more rage filled awakened Sam the next morning.

"You will get dressed for school, young lady, and THAT is final!" Sam scooted up further in the bed to listen better.

"Someone has to stay home with her Dad," Brooke's voice carried to Sam's ears sounding at once furious and at the same time concerned. Sam sighed. Now it was Brooke and Mike's turn to rip into each other over her.

"She's a big girl, Brooke, she can take care of herself!" Mike bellowed.

"She's got a temperature of 103!" Brooke screamed. "She spent most of last night delerious and vomiting," Sam winced at the fuzzy memory of Brooke holding back her hair and rubbing her back. Truth to tell, she still felt like crap. "At one point she thought she was Mighty Mouse!" (Oh, great, now I'm never going to live that one down)

"Jane can stay with her, you have to go to school."

"Mom would but she has an important business meeting and you know it!" Brooke responded. "I have to stay with Sam, unless you want to," she asked sarcastically.

"Don't use that tone with me young lady," Mike warned. Sam yawned and rolled her eyes. (Mike really needs new material)

"Well? Are you? Because if not, I am. Sam is in no shape to take care of herself. And THAT is final, Dad," Brooke said in a tone that Sam knew meant that no matter what Mike said or did she wouldn't be changing her mind.

"Who are you because you sure aren't my daughter?" Mike asked angrily. Sam blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes and she knew that Brooke was probably doing the same thing outside the door.

"I AM still your daughter, you just have no interest in who that really is anymore because I don't fit the mold you want me to. And I'm not going to apologize for that either. Live with it or get out of my way," the door swung open and a highly upset Brooke stormed into the room, slamming it behind her. Sam jumped. Brooke saw that she was awake and the anger drained away from her expression.

"How you feeling, sweetie?" she asked as she put her hand on Sam's forehead. Sam sighed.

"Like shit," Sam whispered, her voice gone and weariness beginning to overtake her. Brooke frowned.

"You're still awfully warm. Come on, back to sleep with you," she said as she tucked Sam back in and crawled in beside her. Sam instictively curled up beside Brooke and Brooke wrapped her arms around the sick girl. "Sleep, Sammy, you'll feel better later."

"Promise?" Sam asked just above a whisper, eyes shut and all ready half asleep. Brooke smiled and placed a kiss in Sam's sweat dampened hair.

"I promise."

LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

Eight days later Sam finally felt almost human again. Unfortunately that was about the best thing she could say about herself. She was packed and ready to go. Jane appeared in her door, disapproving look on her face.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Sam sighed. If her mother asked her that one more time...

"For the four millionth time, no, I'm not, but it has to be done," she turned to face her mother. "He said it, not me. I can't stay here, Mom. You and Brooke stand to lose everything if I do. I won't let that happen."

"At least wait until Brooke gets home from practice," Jane begged. Sam shook her head.

"If I do that I'll never leave. No, Mom, I gotta go now while she's not here. I know it's cowardly but I have to." She walked over and hugged her mother. "Please stick to our agreement. Don't tell her where I went and don't call unless it's an emergency. I'll call every few days to check on you and Brooke and you can fill me in, OK?" Jane nodded.

"I don't like it, but all right. You're going to be hurting her, you know," Sam nodded sadly and a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I know. But losing Mike will hurt more. I know what it's like to lose your Dad and I won't let Brooke go through that if I can stop it. Have you noticed them lately? They're tearing each other apart. They make any fight Brooke and I ever had look like spitball fights in comparison. It's awful and they're going to damage their relationship beyond repair if it keeps up. I won't let that happen," she looked up at her mother, her brown eyes pleading. "Please help her understand."

"I'll do my best, honey. Honest."

"Thanks, Mom. And try to fix things with Mike, yourself. He's a nice guy, in there somewhere. I won't be ground zero for this nuclear family." She headed down the stairs to the car. Jane stopped her at the door.

"If it means anything to you, honey, you're father would be proud of the way you stood up for yourself and I think he'd be fine with you and Brooke as long as you were happy." A genuine smile lit up Sam's face for the first time since telling Mike about her and Brooke's relationship.

"You know it does mean something, Mom. And somehow, I know he would be OK," finally she was starting to understand the message Joe had given her while she was in a coma. `Pain is temporary, love is forever.' It didn't make this decision any easier though.

"You'll call when you get there?" Jane asked as she hugged Sam again. She hated the idea of saying good-bye to Sam. Somehow the whole situation struck her as wrong, Sam shouldn't be leaving, running away. She should be staying and fighting for Brooke. But things were getting worse and not better with Mike and she could see Sam's point. Sometimes the best thing to do is to step away and give people some room.

"Of course," Sam answered. She fixed her mother with an intense stare. "You will take care of her right? Don't let her do anything stupid. I'm doing this so that you both can fix things with Mike, OK? But I'm worried that she's going to think I'm abandoning her like her mother did. Please make sure she knows that isn't the case," Sam begged. Jane nodded.

"I'll try but you know you can avoid the whole thing if you just stay." Sam sighed and frowned.

"Please just stop that, I feel bad enough all ready. My mind is made up. I'm going. Mike isn't going to calm down as long as I'm here. He's bound and determined to blame me for this whole thing, so remove me from the equation and maybe you and Brooke can find some resolutions."

"All right," Jane conceeded. "Well, you'd better get going if you want to miss the worse traffic and be gone before Brooke gets home." Sam nodded.

"I love you, Mom. And I'l come home soon, I promise. Take care of yourself and Mac and especially Brooke for me," she said with a sad smile. Jane smiled through her tears as Sam climbed in her car.

"I will, honey, and take care of yourself." Sam waved and pulled out of the driveway. (Well,) Jane thought (This will either make them, or break them)

Brooke bounded up the stairs after practice excited to see Sam who was finally feeling better after a bad bout with the flu. She entered Sam's room to find it empty. Not just lacking in an occupant, but devoid of many of Sam's belongings; her Cds, laptop, school stuff, her dressers were cleaned off and, upon inspection, her closets were nearly empty. Dread and fear filled Brooke at the thought that her father had finally thrown Sam out of the house when a small envelope taped to Sam's vanity with her name written on it caught her eye.

She opened the envelope carefully and started reading. And heard her entire world crash down around her feet.

Dear Brooke,

Sam McPherson

Brooke could see where the ink was smudged from where Sam's tears had fallen as she had written the letter. And now her own tears added to the smudges. She was angry, hurt, scared, and deeply touched all at the same time.

"Are you all right?" Jane asked from the doorway where she'd been silently observing the girl. Brooke turned around, eyes streaming rivers of tears and Jane walked over to wrap the girl in a hug.

"Shhhh, it'll be all right, you'll see," she soothed the sobbing girl.

"She's gone," Brooke mourned. "My Sammy left me." Jane rubbed the girls' back.

"It'll work out, Brooke, you'll see," only thing was, Jane had no idea how.

YOU ARE THE WEAKEST LINK-GOOD BYE

"Why'd she do it, Jane?" Brooke asked mournfully as she leaned her head against Jane's shoulder as they sat on Sam's bed a few nights later. Things were indeed calmer in the Palace without Sam around, Mike was acting more like himself, but Brooke wasn't and Jane was becoming worried. But Mike didn't seem to notice. True to her word, Jane was keeping a very close eye on her daughter's true love. She held the distraught girl closer and tried to put words to Sam's reasoning, reasoning even she didn't fully understand.

"She wanted to spare you, Brooke. She hates seeing you in pain," Jane began. Brooke shook her head.

"But being away from her causes me pain, doesn't she see that? God, I feel like I'm dying," she bewailed as fresh tears began to flow. Brooke thought after this long she'd be out of tears but they never seemed to stop. Jane sighed and silently cursed her daughter's decision to leave.

"She was doing what she thought was the right thing. Whether we agree or not isn't the point, her heart was in the right place. I know it's hard to understand, Hell, I'm her mother and I don't understand how her mind works but it was tearing her apart to watch what this was doing to you and Mike. You know Sam, if there something she could do to stop it, she'd do it and to Hell with personal cost."

"But it's not fair! Why can't I have both? Why can't Dad just accept things as they are and move on?" Brooke demanded angrily.

"Because you're his little girl, Brooke. It's very difficult to be faced with something like this," Jane explained patiently.

"But you've worked through it, haven't you? Sam and me, I mean? You don't think any less of us now, do you?" Brooke asked fearfully. Jane smiled gently and shook her head.

"Not at all. But I have a few advantages Mike doesn't. First off, I'm a woman, we tend to look at things differently anyway. Somehow, you've managed to offend his manhood, although I have no idea how. Secondly, I saw what was going on between you two so I had an idea even if I did try to ignore it at first. Sure, I was a little disturbed, but once I got past the glaringly obvious, I saw the genuine, deep love between the two of you. Mike hasn't been able to see that because he's unwilling to see that."

"Why? I don't see what Sam and I have as wrong. I just don't. How can love be wrong?"

"It's not, honey. I think Mike feels that he's failed somewhere with raising you. He has a blonde, blue-eyed, cheerleading, homecoming queen daughter, the perfect recipe for All-American and you turn around and tell him you're gay. And in love with your soon-to-be-stepsister. His entire world was suddenly turned on its axis and he didn't know how to handle it. So he reacted the only way available to him, badly."

"Oh," Brooke said as Jane's words sunk in. "But that doesn't explain why he blamed Sammy. I'm gay with or without her." Jane sighed.

"No, it doesn't explain it," barely restrained resentment colored her voice. "But it was easier to blame the lesser known of the two of you than his own baby girl."

"That's not fair. We're in this together," she paused and hung her head. "I really thought he was going to hurt her," she finished softly.

"So did I," the image of Mike raising his hand to strike Sam still vividly fresh in Jane's mind. Normally Jane knew such behavior was beyond Mike, he would never harm her, Sam, Brooke, or Mac. But the news of Brooke's and Sam's relationship just pushed him to a place beyond his control. That and the fact that he had stopped short of actually hitting her were the only reasons Jane hadn't left him on the spot. There was no way in Hell she'd stay with an abusive man, not for herself, Sam, Mac or Brooke.

But Mike wasn't by nature abusive. Everyone has a breaking point and they'd simply hit his like a watermelon hitting a brick wall at 200mph. Jane had been expecting a bad reaction, she just hadn't been expecting one THAT bad. Mike was a mild-mannered, go-with-the-flow kind of guy, it was one of the things that had attracted Jane to him in the first place. And yet here he was doing his best right wing, Christian coalitian, homophobic, not-in-my-family imitation and he was pretty damn convincing. And it baffled Jane how he could have reacted so badly.

He had turned on Sam like a pitbull on a ketcup covered cat and it had scared her. In Mike's eyes, the whole situation was some sort of plot on Sam's part to tear the family apart. That somehow, Sam had twisted Brooke's sweet sisterly affections into something perverted and was just using the girl to justify her own sick cause. But Jane knew differently. If only Mike would listen to reason.

"I've never seen my Dad act that way, Mom," Brooke sighed as she wrapped Sam's blanket around herself tighter, drinking in the smell of Sam. Jane shook her head.

"That was an extreme, Brooke. We all know he never would have hurt her."

"I know, it doesn't make it any less scary, though," Brooke pointed out. Jane shook her head.

"No, it doesn't," she agreed. "Are you coming down to dinner?" Brooke shrugged.

"No, not hungry." Jane gave her a disapproving look.

"Brooke, you have to eat," she started. Brooke huffed angrily at her.

"I am, don't start that with me. I just don't want to eat with HIM, all right? Everytime I try to talk to him he acts like nothing's wrong and Sam never existed. He's not meeting me halfway, here Jane and I can't be expected to do all the work. I'm trying but he has to try too."

"All right, calm down. I'll try to talk to him tonight, see if I can get through to him myself. In the meantime, grab a snack, please. Sam asked me to keep an eye on you so I am. Plus I care about you as well. Don't do this, Brooke, it won't help." Brooke glared at her and pulled away.

"Whatever, enjoy dinner," she snapped as she crawled down into Sam's bed. Jane sighed and left the room.

Two weeks later, Jane couldn't stand it anymore and picked up the phone. Enough was enough. It was picked up on the third ring.

"Brahm residence, Sam speaking, whatcha want? Because we ain't buying," Sam answered in typical Sam fashion.

"Sam, it's Mom," Jane said hastily into the phone.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Sam asked, instantly picking up on the bad vibes coming through her mother's voice. "What's wrong with Brooke?"

"She's at it again, Sam. You need to come home before she's too far gone this time."

GHOSTS AND CAMELS

Brooke sat on Sam's bed in the dark, knees drawn up to her chest crying. It was a familiar pattern. She had spent most of her time in a similar fashion in the three weeks Sam had been gone. No one, not Nicole, her father or Jane, Mary Cherry, Sugar, Josh or Lily had been able to coax the poor girl out of her self-imposed coccoon.

She had gotten somehow impossibly thinner; refusing-absolutely, catagorically to eat unless forced and would not go back to the Eating Disorder Clinic. She'd refused that too, verbally, physically, loudly and viciously. Mike had never seen such behavior from his daughter before, she no longer acted or looked like the little girl he raised.

Her natural grace was gone, replaced by movements that were forced, awkward and stiff. The friendly, easy going girl had disappeared and in her place was a rude, brooding emotionless machine that never smiled. Her normally glowing complexion was now waxy pale with deep circles under her eyes and shadows accentuated her already highlighted cheekbones. Her once luxurious blonde hair was now only a pale yellow with none of the lift or vitality it once had. And what was worse than all of that, were her eyes. It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul but anyone looking into the formally brilliant, intellegent, sparkling hazel eyes of Brooke McQueen would see only one thing- Brooke McQueen's soul no longer resided within. It had left the same day Sam McPherson did.

So she showed no outward signs of reacting when she heard a car door slam followed by the opening and closing of the front door.

(Jane must be home from work early)

She ignored the way the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

(Must be a storm rolling in)

She listened to the hurried footfalls on the stairs but chalked it up to imagination. It wasn't until the door nearly flew off its hinges that she realized that the sound was real.

There stood the storm in question, Sam, in a pair of jeans and a baggy t-shirt, her hair a few inches shorter and looking thinner herself. But there she stood in the flesh. And anyone who saw her would be able to describe her with one word: furious. Her normally brown eyes were almost red with fury and her entire body shook from barely surpressed emotion.

"Sam?" Brooke squeaked, her voice catching on the one note. Sam focused on her with an almost feral intensity. Any urge Brooke had to leap over and hold the girl in the doorway was effectively crushed by the look on Sam's face. She had never seen the journalist so upset, upset with her before. And given their less than happy history, that was saying a lot.

"What the Hell game are you playing at, McQueen?" Sam asked, her badly missed voice coming out more as a growl. Brooke shrugged mutely, unable to keep Sam's heated gaze and curled up into a tighter ball.

"Do you know what it's like to get a phone call from Mom telling me that you're slowly killing yourself? Jesus, Brooke," Sam spat angrily before she could stop herself. Brooke hid her head behind her arms and started to cry harder.

Sam sighed to herself. (Gee, Sam, nice job. Make her feel worse, why don't you? This is so not going well) She hadn't meant to yell but she's been so scared about what Brooke was doing to herself after she spoke to her mother on the phone the day before. And then she saw how Brooke actually looked. She reminded Sam of a Humane Society puppy, lost, malnourished and about to be put down when all it really needed was love. And she had done this to Brooke. She silently cursed herself for her cowardly behavior, then Mike for setting them up like dominos to fall over. She took a deep breath to calm herself and cautiously approached the bed.

"Brooke?" she whispered in a calmer voice. No response. "Brooke, please look at me." Still, Brooke didn't respond. "I'm sorry I yelled like that. I didn't mean to, I'm just worried." This won her a long sniffle from the emaciated cheerleader. Sam sat on the edge of the bed. "Look, I can leave and come back in if you want but all I really wanted was to say `Hi'."

Brooke lifted her head and fixed her tear-filled, bloodshot eyes on Sam. With a thin trembling hand, she reached out and poked Sam in the shoulder.

"Real?" she hiccuped. Sam smiled.

"As a heart attack, babe," at which point Brooke launched herself into Sam's embrace and sobbed uncontrollably. "Shhh.take it easy before you hurt yourself," Sam soothed. Brooke just held on for all she was worth. Sam could feel nearly every bone in Brooke's body through both their clothes and it scared her.

"God, Brooke, you're so thin. Why do you do this to yourself?" she asked as her own tears raced down her face. Brooke tried to pull away but Sam held on tight.

"No, don't pull away from me. I didn't come all the way home to have you pull away from me and shut me out."

"Why did you come home?" Brooke asked as she settled into Sam's arms and played with the damp collar of Sam's t-shirt.

"Mom called and said you weren't eating. She figured since no one else could get through to you, she'd better call in the big gun, me. So I came back. Now stop evading the question, why do you do this to yourself? God knows you were thin enough already. Actually, you could have stood to gain a little, Skinny Minnie," Sam joked lightly. Brooke shrugged.

"I don't know. I just haven't been hungry. Food tastes funny lately," she answered lamely.

"Look, you have four jobs, responsibilities to stay alive in this life: eat, sleep, breathe, and love me. They're not hard, although I know that last one can be at times." This got her a small smile from Brooke. "But why do you do this to yourself and more importantly, why do you do this to me?" Sam finished as new tears slipped down her face and her voice faded away. Brooke frowned in confusion.

"'Do this to you'? This isn't about you," she argued hotly. Sam sighed.

"In a way, yes it is. You're seeking to control something, anything because you feel like you're out of control. Mike went totally ballistic when he found out about us and for once in your life you didn't get your own way. There was nothing you could do to stop the downward spiral we somehow found ourselves on. Then you saw how it was threatening to destroy his and Mom's relationship and neither of us wanted that but nothing we did helped that either. And then I took away the one safe and secure thing you had left, me. I didn't realize it at the time, I was only trying to make things better. But you were drowning and I took away your life preserver. I am so sorry."

"That's still all me," Brooke pointed out.

"Until you factor in the fact that whether it was conscious or not, you knew that if you pulled this anorexia thing, someone would eventually call me and I'd come running like a dog when you yank its chain."

"This isn't an `anorexia thing', Sam. It's a disease, like cancer, AIDS, or alcoholism. And you have a pretty poor opinion of yourself if you think of yourself as a dog on a chain," Brooke hissed. Sam shrugged.

"If the analogy fits." she trailed off at the glare she got from her irate girlfriend. "And I know it's a disease, Brooke. I was in no way belittling it, or you. But you did this, on some level, to get back at your dad for his Puritan reaction to us and to get back at me for leaving you. And that hurts," Sam said, her voice showing exactly how much.

If Brooke didn't feel bad enough already, that comment just about finished her off. She hadn't meant to hurt Sam, really, she had just hurt so badly herself that she was acting out the only way she really knew how. And, yes, the vindictive, meanspirited part of her knew how much starving herself would hurt her father and she wanted nothing more than to make him suffer as much as she was suffering.

It was also the only real way she had of expressing the deep emotional pain she was in. Crying wasn't doing it; it only made her tired and her eyes raw. Screaming was a waste of energy and while she toyed with the idea of cutting, her vanity, such as it was, wouldn't let her take the chance of accidentily scarring herself. So she reverted back to form, her one vice and disorder, anorexia.

"I never meant to hurt you, Sammy," she sobbed, clinging to Sam desperately. Sam kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair down.

"I know that, Brooke. I know. I'm here now and this is going to stop," Sam said confidently. She brought Brooke's face up for a kiss full of longing, regret, love and promise. Instantly Brooke began to feel better. Sam got up off the bed and smoothed her shirt.

"OK, McQueen, here's the deal. Take a shower, because, as much as I love you, you smell like an unwashed camel in the Sahara at high noon in the middle of August," Brooke scrunched her nose at the imagery and then sniffed her shirt.

(Ew, she's right!)

"Then," Sam continued with a smile as she watched Brooke's actions. "By the time you're done, I'll have your bags packed and we can get the Hell out of Dodge City."

Brooke was now pressed up against the headboard again, her eyes full of anger and betrayal. Sam frowned at her confused.

"What?" Brooke's eyes narrowed and turned to ice.

"I am not going back to the Clinic and not even YOU can make me," she growled in a barely recognizable voice. Sam looked at her, surprised at the amount of venom that was just spewed in her direction. Brooke sounded like a cat whose tail was caught in the door. Sam sighed.

"I know that, Brooke," she said softly. "And as much as I wish you would go, I'll never make you do something you don't want to." Brooke visibly relaxed. Sam leaned over the bed putting her arms down to support her weight and making it so she was nose to nose with Brooke.

"No, I know you won't go to the Clinic. But you can't stay here and fade away. I won't allow it. So you and me, love, are going on a road trip." Brooke's eyes got wide.

"What about my Dad?" Sam rolled her eyes and huffed.

"The Nazi?" Sam grinned. Brooke nodded. Sam kissed the end of her nose making her giggle. "I cleared this with Mom. She'll deflect him, run interference and any other sports reference I don't know or care to understand." Brooke pulled her into another fierce hug.

"I missed you so much. Don't ever leave me again, Sammy," she begged. Sam hugged her back.

"I missed you too, Brooke. And I promise I won't ever leave again. Ever. Nothing short of death will ever make me leave your side again."

"Don't talk about things like that," Brooke asked. "What are we going to do about school?"

"You and me are officially on sabbatical. Mom's gonna deal with it. Now stop worrying so much and go scrub up."

YOU CAN SLEEP WHILE I DRIVE

Brooke emerged from the shower feeling refreshed and alive again for the first time in three weeks. She found that Sam had finished packing as was sitting patiently in the bed with a distant look on her face. She walked over and ran her hands through Sam's shorter locks.

"Why'd you cut it, Sammy?" Sam purred at the scalp massage.

"For a change, I guess. It's only three inches and it'll grow back. You know, new scenery, new look. Don't worry, I hate it too." Brooke smiled wryly.

"I don't hate it, I think it makes you look elfish," Sam arched an eyebrow. "As much as I love your hair long, I like it this way too." Sam smiled back and her eyes finally focused in the present. Brooke wondered where her mind had actually been.

"Ready to go, Brooke?" Brooke nodded

"As long as you've packed my stuff. Where we headed?" Sam shook her head.

"Uh-uh, it's a surprise. You'll find out when we get there, trust me," Brooke leaned in and kissed her.

"Always," she promised.

Brooke fell asleep not long after they left the Palace and Sam was glad. She wasn't really up to conversation, or more accurately explainations. The past three weeks without Brooke had without a doubt been the worst of her young life. She'd made a horrible mistake in leaving, she knew that now. She needed no other proof than to look at the frail form curled up into a small ball in the passenger seat next to her. She's just been so sure that it was the right thing to do and now the guilt and doubt were gnawing at her like insistant persistant hunger pains. (Cute analogy, Sam. You are just SO damn witty. I hate myself) She sighed and turned the radio on low for company and to try and drown out her own thoughts.

(Under a blackened sky
Far beyond the glaring streetlights
Sleeping on empty dreams
The vultures lie in wait

You lay down beside me then
You were with me every waking hour
So close I could feel your breath

When all we wanted was the dream
To have and to hold that precious little thing
Like every generation yields
A newborn hope unjaded by their years

Pressed up against the glass
Found myself wanting sympathy
But to be consumed again
Oh I know would be the death of me

And there is a love that's inherently given
The kind of blindness often to appease
In the light of forbidden joy
Oh I know I won't receive it

When all we wanted was the dream
To have and to hold that precious little thing
Like every generation yields
A newborn hope unjaded by their years

You know if I leave you now
It doesn't mean that I love you any less
It's just the state that I'm in
I can't be good to anyone else like this

When all we wanted was the dream
To have and to hold that precious little thing
Like every generation yields
A newborn hope unjaded by their years)

The words somehow struck Sam as appropriate in some ironic and sardonic sort of way. That was her and Brooke, trying to avoid the vultures and yet trying to hold on to the precious thing that they had, their dream of themselves. And yet it was taken away by Mike and then she had left Brooke. It just seemed to her that she was doing more harm than good being home. (How did Brooke interpret my leaving? Did she feel abandoned? Unloved? That was never my intention. Why can't I ever seem to do anything right? I seem to destroy everything I touch. Reverse Midas touch, everything I come into contact with turns to dust)

"Sam?" Brooke's groggy voice filtered over to her, breaking her from her thoughts. Sam glanced over as Brooke unfolded herself and stretched as much as she could in the cramped seat.

"Did I wake you with the radio, love?" Sam whispered. Brooke shook her head.

"No. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," Brooke yawned. Sam smiled and shrugged.

"Sometimes sleep is best," she said plainly as she watched for her exit. Brooke watched her closely in confusion. She wasn't sure but it seemed to her that Sam was shutting her out. Sam saw her staring and frowned. "What?"

"What's wrong?" Brooke asked seriously and to the point. Sam's frown deepened.

"Nothing's wrong, Brooke. I'm concentrating on driving," Sam responded a little shortly. Brooke wasn't buying that but decided not to push it any further right now. There'd be plenty of time for talking when they got to whereever it was they were going. Speaking of which.

"So, do I get any hints on where we're going?" Brooke asked lightly. Sam seemed to relax at the change of subject and smiled a bit.

"Nope. But I will tell you that it's exactly what we need to heal. Both of us," she said firmly and confidently. Brooke nodded.

"All right, I believe you. How was San Francisco?" Brooke asked as she came fully awake. Sam sighed. This is what she was hoping to avoid. She really wasn't in a talkative mood but knew she had to say something or Brooke would know she had something on her mind.

"It was OK," she answered with a shrug. "It sucked because you weren't with me though," she stated honestly. And it had. All the cool things she had seen or the places she'd been to didn't mean a thing because the blonde who had her heart wasn't there to share it with her.

"I missed you," Brooke repeated her earlier sentiment. Sam nodded.

"Ditto, Brooke."

"Dad's gonna flip when he finds me gone," Brooke reminded her with a devilish grin. Sam echoed the grin.

"Yup," she agreed. She hated the idea of leaving her mother to deal with that particular mess but they both agreed that this was their only option for helping Brooke. And whatever it took, Sam was willing to do.