A/N: Because it doesnt look like the powers that be are going to do this anytime soon, I thought I would, just for my own peace of mind. Sami needs to forgive John. Its high time she let go of some of her resentment and realize that the man is sincere, that he loves her and he loves her mother and is not in this huge conspiracy to make Samis life a living hell. Heres my one-shot attempt at fixing the John/Sami feud (which I guess isnt really a feud since its only HER feud). Please read and review! Thanks in advance.
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"Samantha?" John Black said, surprised, when he opened the door and saw her standing there.
Sami stood in the doorway of the penthouse, tears still drying on her cheeks, and looked up at the man who had, once upon a time, been her daddy.
"John," she said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. "May I come in?"
"Of course," he said immediately, stepping aside to let her through. "What's wrong, Sami, what's happened?" He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, then seemed to reconsider, perhaps remembering all the times over all the years that she had recoiled from his touch. Then, a terrible thought occurred to him as his mind fell upon the one common link the two of them had left: "Is it your sister?"
Sami paused, momentarily confused, then shook her head. "No. No, Belle's fine." She seemed reluctant to go on, so John motioned toward the couch. She looked at it but didn't sit. This was incredibly hard for her. Here she was, face to face with a man she had spent the last decade hating, resenting, trying to ruin, and now that she had to apologize for all of that, she had no idea how to go about it.
The dream she'd had earlier was still weighing heavily on her heart. She could still see her mother's face, hear her voice begging Sami to make amends with John. She'd tried to blow it off, but Lucas had intervened.
"Sami, your mother is trying to tell you something from beyond the grave; are you really going to ignore her?" he'd asked.
"It was just a stupid dream!" she'd protested. "Random subconscious images that have no bearing on reality."
"Okay, tell yourself that if you want to," Lucas had said, infuriatingly. "But I think you know better. I think you realize, finally, that John loved your mom, that he loves you, and somewhere, deep down, you love him. You spent a long time loving him when you were a little girl."
"I've spent a longer time hating him," she pointed out stubbornly.
But the dream wouldn't leave her. If this was what her mom wanted, what would make her happy and help her to rest in peace, then Sami felt she had to do something about it. She had to swallow her pride. Besides, hadn't John proven over and over again during the exploration of the mystery that had become their lives that he really did love her mother? That he was just as upset as anyone else about the circumstances surrounding her death? And so here she was, standing in the house the two of them had shared as a married couple, John waiting for her to explain what was wrong, and she couldn't find the words.
"John, I ... I don't even know what I'm doing here." She took a deep, shuddery breath and ran a distracted hand through her long blonde hair. "I shouldn't be here. I—I should go." She started back toward the door, but he caught her arm and gently turned her to face him.
"Wait a minute, Samantha. You're obviously upset, and you came here for a reason. Now talk to me. What's the matter?" He looked at her with genuine concern, and she found that she couldn't quite meet his gaze.
"I don't know where to start," she said, looking at the floor. A long silence passed, and finally she spoke again. "John, I ... I know I haven't really been fair to you. I've given you so many reasons to hate me over the years, and I wouldn't blame you if you did."
"I don't hate you, Sami," he said softly.
"Well ... if you did, I would deserve it," she replied. "It's been so many years since I first discovered your ... affair ... with my mother. I always blamed you for breaking my parents up and ruining their marriage. I hated you for that."
He closed his eyes. "I know."
"But I've crossed the line so many times. I mean, I went so far as to kidnap your daughter so no one would find out that she wasn't my father's child. And you forgave me for that. Why did you ...?"
"You were a child then, Samantha. You were confused, angry, bitter ... and it's in the past." He gave her a searching look. "Where are you going with all this?"
"I just want you to know that I'm done blaming you for everything," she said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. "I think I can forgive you. The way you've forgiven me so many times. I think I can do that."
Her blue eyes were swimming with tears again, and John studied her face for traces of insincerity, for any indication that this was just another one of her schemes, some new attempt to get back at him for her belief that he had been responsible for her mother's death. But all he saw was Samantha, the woman who, as a child, had been his sweet little punkin. And her pain, her sorrow, her regret seemed real.
"You probably don't believe me," she said, shaking her head. "You have no reason to. My track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence."
He held her gaze firmly. "If you do mean what you're saying, Sami, then I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I would like nothing more than to believe you."
She looked at him. "I do mean it." She took a deep breath. "Mom always wanted me to make peace with you. It's the least I can do for her. To honor her memory."
John reached for Sami's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "She would be very proud of you," he said.
Sami looked away, suddenly embarrassed by this whole situation. "I guess I should let you get back to whatever you were doing. I didn't mean to bother you."
She stood up and started for the door.
"Samantha?"
She turned back to look at him.
"I hope this is the beginning of a new outlook for you," he said. "You probably don't believe it, but you can be happy if you'll just let yourself be. I think Lucas is the best thing that could have happened to you."
She nodded, not really sure what to say to that. "Goodbye, John."
Sami started back to her apartment feeling lighter than she had in a long time, as if apologizing to John had released something that had festered inside her for far too many years. Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe this was the key to fixing all that had gone so wrong in her life. Maybe...
THE END
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"Samantha?" John Black said, surprised, when he opened the door and saw her standing there.
Sami stood in the doorway of the penthouse, tears still drying on her cheeks, and looked up at the man who had, once upon a time, been her daddy.
"John," she said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. "May I come in?"
"Of course," he said immediately, stepping aside to let her through. "What's wrong, Sami, what's happened?" He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, then seemed to reconsider, perhaps remembering all the times over all the years that she had recoiled from his touch. Then, a terrible thought occurred to him as his mind fell upon the one common link the two of them had left: "Is it your sister?"
Sami paused, momentarily confused, then shook her head. "No. No, Belle's fine." She seemed reluctant to go on, so John motioned toward the couch. She looked at it but didn't sit. This was incredibly hard for her. Here she was, face to face with a man she had spent the last decade hating, resenting, trying to ruin, and now that she had to apologize for all of that, she had no idea how to go about it.
The dream she'd had earlier was still weighing heavily on her heart. She could still see her mother's face, hear her voice begging Sami to make amends with John. She'd tried to blow it off, but Lucas had intervened.
"Sami, your mother is trying to tell you something from beyond the grave; are you really going to ignore her?" he'd asked.
"It was just a stupid dream!" she'd protested. "Random subconscious images that have no bearing on reality."
"Okay, tell yourself that if you want to," Lucas had said, infuriatingly. "But I think you know better. I think you realize, finally, that John loved your mom, that he loves you, and somewhere, deep down, you love him. You spent a long time loving him when you were a little girl."
"I've spent a longer time hating him," she pointed out stubbornly.
But the dream wouldn't leave her. If this was what her mom wanted, what would make her happy and help her to rest in peace, then Sami felt she had to do something about it. She had to swallow her pride. Besides, hadn't John proven over and over again during the exploration of the mystery that had become their lives that he really did love her mother? That he was just as upset as anyone else about the circumstances surrounding her death? And so here she was, standing in the house the two of them had shared as a married couple, John waiting for her to explain what was wrong, and she couldn't find the words.
"John, I ... I don't even know what I'm doing here." She took a deep, shuddery breath and ran a distracted hand through her long blonde hair. "I shouldn't be here. I—I should go." She started back toward the door, but he caught her arm and gently turned her to face him.
"Wait a minute, Samantha. You're obviously upset, and you came here for a reason. Now talk to me. What's the matter?" He looked at her with genuine concern, and she found that she couldn't quite meet his gaze.
"I don't know where to start," she said, looking at the floor. A long silence passed, and finally she spoke again. "John, I ... I know I haven't really been fair to you. I've given you so many reasons to hate me over the years, and I wouldn't blame you if you did."
"I don't hate you, Sami," he said softly.
"Well ... if you did, I would deserve it," she replied. "It's been so many years since I first discovered your ... affair ... with my mother. I always blamed you for breaking my parents up and ruining their marriage. I hated you for that."
He closed his eyes. "I know."
"But I've crossed the line so many times. I mean, I went so far as to kidnap your daughter so no one would find out that she wasn't my father's child. And you forgave me for that. Why did you ...?"
"You were a child then, Samantha. You were confused, angry, bitter ... and it's in the past." He gave her a searching look. "Where are you going with all this?"
"I just want you to know that I'm done blaming you for everything," she said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. "I think I can forgive you. The way you've forgiven me so many times. I think I can do that."
Her blue eyes were swimming with tears again, and John studied her face for traces of insincerity, for any indication that this was just another one of her schemes, some new attempt to get back at him for her belief that he had been responsible for her mother's death. But all he saw was Samantha, the woman who, as a child, had been his sweet little punkin. And her pain, her sorrow, her regret seemed real.
"You probably don't believe me," she said, shaking her head. "You have no reason to. My track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence."
He held her gaze firmly. "If you do mean what you're saying, Sami, then I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I would like nothing more than to believe you."
She looked at him. "I do mean it." She took a deep breath. "Mom always wanted me to make peace with you. It's the least I can do for her. To honor her memory."
John reached for Sami's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "She would be very proud of you," he said.
Sami looked away, suddenly embarrassed by this whole situation. "I guess I should let you get back to whatever you were doing. I didn't mean to bother you."
She stood up and started for the door.
"Samantha?"
She turned back to look at him.
"I hope this is the beginning of a new outlook for you," he said. "You probably don't believe it, but you can be happy if you'll just let yourself be. I think Lucas is the best thing that could have happened to you."
She nodded, not really sure what to say to that. "Goodbye, John."
Sami started back to her apartment feeling lighter than she had in a long time, as if apologizing to John had released something that had festered inside her for far too many years. Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe this was the key to fixing all that had gone so wrong in her life. Maybe...
THE END