Sam wakes up with a start. For a moment she can't remember where she is, then it hits her. Everything comes rushing back to her, her breath hitches and she start breathing hard. When she calms down she notices her back, aches from sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair and then falling asleep in it.
It was dark out now, it had been light out when she'd arrived at Brooke's hospital room earlier that day, part of her daily routine now. The events of the dream that had woken her up were still vividly burned into her mind. It was the same nightmare that had woken her up for the past three nights, the first time She'd had it had been a somewhat confusing experience. An entire day to mull it over in her mind had remedied that, had brought her to interesting conclusions and some briefly disconcerting realizations.
It was clear now why her recurring nightmare, the one that kept waking her up night after night, involved Brooke dying. It was all quite simple really, but sometimes the simplest things have the farthest-reaching consequences and this was one of those times. To put it concisely; she loved Brooke. Not in a sisterly or even friendly, though that's not to say she didn't also love her this way, manner she would have earlier found acceptable. No this was the Romeo and Juliet kind of way; the kind of way that made your heart beat faster, made your breath hitch, your knees shiver, legs turn to jelly, and made your stomach to flip flops.
It hadn't really freaked her out, much. Honestly, it hadn't. Both the fact that she was gay, or at least bisexual, and the fact that she was enamored with Brooke were fairly easy to accept. This realization itself freaked her out more than the other two put together really. In fact, all of this explained quite a few thins which had puzzled her up to this point.
All of these ruminations had been brought on in some way or another by the accident that had the blonde cheerleader in her current condition. That night had changed Sam's life as well.
She still remembered everything vividly. Watching Brooke run into the street, seeing Nicole's speeding car barreling towards her, then the dull thud of the blonde's body hitting the pavement. Even the cracking of bones still sounded as clearly in her memory as it had that night.
Sam could remember staring dumbly at the prone form of, he soon-to-be stepsister. And she can see even now Harrison running out and kneeling by Brooke's side, she can even see, in some strange way, herself frozen to that spot. The terror she felt that night comes back to her all the same. It grips her by her heart, by the stomach and makes her sick all over.
The feelings overwhelm her just like they did that night, threatening to cause her to shut down like before, the difference is that then she didn't move until the sound of ambulance sirens started her into action. She feels shame. But tonight she moves because she knows she can't stay here any longer, she's torturing herself in seeing Brooke like this. Broken, defenseless. So utterly lacking in the usual energy and optimism she's come to cherish from the cheerleader.
So she gets up. Her limbs tingle, and her back cracks. The sound is deafening in the silence of the room, even the tingling of her body seems to reverberate. Sam walks to the side of the bed, she leans down and places a soft kiss on Brooke's lips. It is a stolen kiss, but right now she believes it may just be the only kind she'll ever be able to get and who knows maybe she's right. She doesn't want to be right, that's a new feeling for sure. Then the Brunette journalist leaves, to go home and maybe, just maybe, start getting over this impossible infatuation. It seems a daunting task.
Because of this is not there when Brooke murmurs incomprehensibly in her sleep, which is more than she's done before. Nor is she there when the Blonde's eyes flutter open to the new day streaks of light, and she certainly misses the nurse discovering the blonde's state. She also missed the phone calls to the house, and from friends. She missed these last two because instead of going home she's gone off to be alone, to escape. To escape she must disconnect from everything, this means cell phones must be turned off.
So it is that she finds herself, atop some unnamed random hill contemplating her self. This investigation into psyche involves more than simply the object of her desires, though that is prominent among her thoughts. She's beginning to reevaluate her life, has she really been doing what's right? Sure part of her long diatribes and editorials against Brook McQueen and the Glamazons has been motivated by an, until now, unknown attraction she also recognizes that part of her simply wanted to bring them down. Just a peg or two. She's not sure this is a bad thing, not quite yet, but she's beginning to wonder if it's all that important.
The rest of her is berating herself for hiding from her self for so long. This revelation should have come much sooner, and without Brooke's life being threatened. Sam realizes that she has a large part of responsibility in this, for her this has all been another weird sort of competition in her endless line of competitions with Brooke. But given the events that have taken place it seems that Brooke actually took this seriously, she was genuinely vying for Harrison's attention. This thought causes a pang of guilt to grip her, followed shortly by an inexplicable sadness. Brooke is straight.
The cheerleader will be in no way interested in any sort of romantic relationship with Sam. This thought rings through her head in various forms. It brings only a heart wrenching despair to her, not quite on par with the despair of that night but still something that causes pain. It is an invisible pain, right in the center of her chest, a pain that is not quite a pain. Yes, she realizes now that she has no chance. If she were a man she would have a chance, no matter her social standing but as she is she has nothing and now she wishes she could switch genders. This is the only time she has ever wished to be a man.
It is not until later when she turns her cell phone back on that she learns the news. Suddenly she is running, running in the direction of the hospital because for those first few fleeting moments she can't think clearly enough to remember her car. Her mind is too filled with joyous exaltations too preoccupied with streaming relief at the knowledge that Brooke has not been forever trapped in a coma state. It doesn't take too long for her mind to clear just enough, she remembers her car and the fact that she's too far away form the hospital to get there running.
The drive is actually fairly short, it maybe to far to run but driving is an entirely different matter. Her legs pound down the pristine white corridors of the hospital. She can see the door to Brooke's room, slightly ajar.
Sam bursts through the door to a crowded room. Mike, her mother, Mary cherry, and Carmen are standing slightly away from Brooke. Next to Brooke Harrison is leaning down and whispering, her hand firmly ensconced in hers. He straightens up when Sam comes in, eyeing her curiously.
Seeing them like this sends a surge of irrational jealousy through her, she feels shame almost immediately afterwards. She has no right to feel jealous, no claim to the tall blonde that would give her any right to such feelings. The jealousy is gone before anyone can see it, masked behind her out of breath state.
"Hi," she speaks softly, almost doesn't say anything at all, but it's enough and breaks the silence.
"Sam!" Brooke cracks a smile at her, teeth and all then beckons her closer. Sam readily obeys. They surprise everyone a little by throwing their arms around each other; Sam holds on tight and takes slight solace at the embrace. By some unspoken convention they both know how good it is to see each other, they grown closer despite their own best attempts. Now, with death having come so close neither wants to continue as they have before. Brooke because this brunette journalist is about to be a large part of her life, Sam because she wants the blonde cheerleader to be an even larger part of her life.
When they separate the conversation starts up again, slowly at first, because it's odd to jump right back into conversation when it's been interrupted so abruptly. Brooke began to explain, mostly to Sam, how she only had to have 2 months of physical therapy for her legs and how the doctor had said she'd almost make a full recovery. Almost being the operative word, she'd have to be more careful now, and definitely pace herself but the important thing was that she could return to cheerleading.
Throughout the entire exchange Brooke continues to hold on to Harrison's hand, gaining strength from his presence, his solidity. Sam tries not to notice, tries not to see it, but every second she tries not to think about it she is reminded of it. Every time she thinks about it that familiar pang of despair grips her. Hiding it is difficult; she succeeds for the most part. Brooke sees something though, amazing how your 'worst enemy' can understand you the best.
"Hey, Sam, you all right?" There is concern in her voice; it is at the same time comforting and painful.
"Yeah, sorta, just tired." Sam states, trying to find something to say. She continues. "Didn't sleep all that well last night, nightmares."
A half true statement, the nightmares did wake her up, but her current state of gloom has less to do with the nightmares. The excuse is enough thought, it hurts a little to think that Brooke believes what is to her a flimsy excuse, but then again there's no reason for her not to believe it. Soon enough everyone starts to leave, they've been here longer than Sam, and they all have their reasons; work, family, and a myriad of other things to do. Maybe they sense that a private conversation needs to take place, maybe not. Harrison is the last to leave, leaving the two girls alone in the sterile room, smelling of antiseptic like everything in the hospital does.
"So…what is it really?" Brooke breaks the silence suddenly.
"Huh?" Is Sam's uncomprehending response.
"You didn't think I'm completely bought that nightmare excuse, did you?" Of course she hadn't bought it, she'd just wanted to discuss it alone. Amazing how easily the girl picked up on the necessarily private nature of the conversation.
"Oh, yeah well, I've just had some things on my mind." A raised eyebrow, the signal to continue. "The, uh, accident made me realize that life is too short to live a lie." She pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts a little. "Seeing you lying there, I just thought that could've easily been me you know?" Not entirely the truth, but it's close.
"Yeah, I can understand what you're saying." Her voice is low and quiet, she's reliving the memory for a moment. "Continue."
"Well, uh, I came to the realization, that, maybe, I find myself appreciating the female form more than would be considered normal." There it is, part of it at least. Not the biggest part, but part none the less.
"Ah, that is…I mean…Actually I'm not sure how to approach voicing my ability to accept this revelation." The cheerleader states, with a hint of a teasing smile, and then. "Anyone in particular make you come to this conclusion?"
There it was, an opening, her opening.
"Uh…well, no." She can't do it. "Not really as such." She's blushing now, furiously.
"Why Samantha, I do believe someone has a crush." She's blushing even harder now. "I won't pry, just wish you good luck…and also, um, I guess good luck with Jane and my dad."
Sam smiled, letting the topic end there. The conversation shifted into more mundane and less serious strains then. During the conversation that proceeded she noticed Brooke was, well she wasn't sure what to call it. But when she left much later a smile graced her lips. Perhaps it wasn't so utterly hopeless after all, as slim a chance as it might be it was still a chance. She wasn't quite ready, but soon enough she'd take it. See where it might lead.