Come Back Down
They hadn't seen each other for ten years but when Martin joins the Missing Person's Unit in New York, old feelings start to resurface - will either of them dare to walk down that path again? S/M
Chapter One: Don't Have To Be Alone With What You're Going Through
Disclaimer: As much as I would like to own Eric Close, the F.B.I and Without A Trace, alas I only have the licence to dream. The plot is mine, my own, my preciousssssssssssss.
A/N:- This isn't the original fic that I was going to post next but it was an idea that just appeared and it is kind of writing itself at the moment. I love it when stories do that …… except from when it takes over your life and you can't do anything else until you finish getting your ideas out on paper……. This story's probably slightly AU but hopefully kinda more original than is usual for me! I was looking at the lyrics for 'Come Back Down' by Lifehouse and thought they were very fitting, hence the title. Flashbacks are going to give the background to the story. And for later on – nothing has ever gone on between Samantha and Jack since I'm not a big fan of the triangle at the moment. Oh, being a bit unsure of the school system the other side of the pond, it's half based on the English system so I apologise in advance, also for the English-isms. And one last thing – I got VERY important exams coming up all the way through May and June so please be patient!
Samantha Spade struggled to keep her head up high and the tears from falling from her eyes but after eighteen years of putting on a strong front, the pressure was starting to build up and the events of last night had just pushed her over the edge. She slung her rucksack over her shoulders and headed across the quad. It was lunchtime and the students of Newton High School were all out on the grass, relaxing and lapping up the sun. She hurried past them, her eyes all watery, ignoring the curious glances she got from a group of girls from the year below. Why did everyone have a hard time accepting that she was different? She was proud to be different. She didn't care that she wasn't popular. She didn't want to smoke, go out and get drunk every weekend, wear the latest designer brands, flirt incessantly with the football or basketball squad …………… Whilst the girls in her year were preoccupied worrying about the colour of their highlights, Samantha had more important problems like how she was going to get through another evening in the same house as her parents.
She braced herself for the inevitable wolf-whistles and hooting as she walked past a group of guys from her year – the 'cool' kids, the sport guys, the ones that the barbies spent hours putting on their make up for.
"Hey there Sam, you gonna let me take you out to dinner yet?"
"Go with me to the Prom."
"Stop being such a prude, lemme take you for a drive………."
She hated the way she could feel their eyes all over her. Staring, examining, drooling. She was blonde, thin, and, if she made an effort with her hair and make-up, considered to be as pretty as any of those girls that wore the smallest skirt in the shop to get noticed. But Samantha was smart and intelligent as well. Nearly every guy in her year had tried to hit on her at some point and the fact that she said no every time just made it all the more exciting. Bets were made to see who could get geeky Samantha out on a date/in bed first but with only a few months left of high school, it looked like none of the guys would succeed. She was untouchable.
A group of brunettes pushed into her. "God, look where you're going Spade." One of them shot. Samantha narrowed her eyes, usually she would hurl some abuse back and move on but today their prattish comments hurt more than usual.
"Would you look at her hair ….. the split ends ……."
"Who does she think she is …. She's such a geek …… Doesn't she care that no one likes her?"
Samantha tried to ignore them and pulled herself out of the crowd. Their abusive comments faded into nothing as she was consumed with visions of her drunken father lunging towards her with a slipper, glass bottles being chucked across the room, her mother passed out on the kitchen floor …. … She had spent years, locked in her room studying to get top grades so she could go to University, get away from her home, get a good job, move away, start afresh ………… All her teachers thought she was a model student with supportive parents who encouraged her in her education. They didn't know the truth. Now, only a few months from the end, she was fed up with putting on a brave face for everyone. She needed a release. She needed to get away from it all.
She looked around. The grove was practically empty, a couple of Goths sat smoking weed and a group of first years kicked a ball aimlessly around the playground. She climbed over the low wall and walked round the back of the deserted bike shed. She opened her bag and took out a bottle of water and a couple tubs of her mother's pills. She could hardly see through her tears anymore. This wasn't like her, why was she doing this, why now after all these years? The shouts of abuse from her mother and father filled her ears, reminding her of the existence she had to go back to everyday after school. She unscrewed the lid of her water bottle and tipped the contents of the tubs into the palm of her hand. She took a deep breath and leant heavily against the wooden panels. Images of the past few years – the glass, the beer, the leering, mocking faces of her classmates, raced through her mind. She just couldn't not care anymore. She looked down at the capsules in her hand and was about to tip them into her mouth ……………….
"Don't do that." A voice said urgently, coming towards her.
Samantha lowered her hand slowly. She thought that she had been alone, unnoticed. And of all people, why had he followed her here? "Leave me alone Martin." She said.
"No. Not until you drop those pills." He said calmly but he was breathing deeply, trying to cover the fact that he had run there.
She looked at him, her eyes alight. "Why are you here? What do you care? You and your rich, cool friends with your big houses, pool house and perfect lives….. I know about you and your bets and what you say about me behind my back, how hilarious you think it is to fill my locker with sleazy magazines and underwear….. The way you laugh with those airhead girls who can't even do their assignments themselves…..."
"I'm not like them." He stated, dropping his school bag on the ground and taking a step closer. "Look, I know I haven't exactly stopped my friends from being pricks, but I want to help you Sam."
"You're from a different world. You're Head-Boy, President of the Student Voice, Captain of the football, basketball and soccer teams; stop patronizing me. Leave me alone." Samantha paused and then looked at him accusingly. "This is for one of you stupid 'let's win Samantha over' bets again isn't it?" Her hand with the pills in was starting to shake with anger and lack of resolve. The moment had passed. She was losing self-control.
Martin looked at the trembling girl in front of him and moved his floppy brown hair out of his eyes. "Why can't you understand that I'm not like the people I hang out with? This isn't for some bet, this isn't some act to get you into bed. I just want to stop being such an idiot and be friends ……………….. but right now what I want most is for you to drop those pills. Please."
Something in his voice touched her and Samantha lowered her hand and the multi-coloured capsules scattered over the ground. She started shuddering and crying with the release. Martin walked up to her slowly and gently rested a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away and bent down, starting to gather the pills up again. "Get away from me, I'll do it, I'll do it. I don't need your pity I don't-" she cried hysterically.
Martin grabbed her arm and pulled her up. "Samantha …. Sam …. Sam. Shhh. I know you don't want to do this. I know you don't." he soothed, pulling her into his arms. She started crying into his jacket and clinging to him unwillingly.
Martin held her as she cried for what must have been at least ten minutes. He knew he was late for practice, he knew that his friends would be wondering where he was, he knew that if they saw him now they would never stop laughing. But he didn't care. He wasn't going to spend these last few months of school pretending to be someone he wasn't, hanging out with people he didn't care about, being captain of a bunch of guys who just played to get the girls …………..
As the tears calmed down, her embarrassment grew. She didn't know why she was letting him hold her. He was one of them. Possibly the worst since he was the one that all the rest looked up to. But maybe he was kind of different. He had never tried to feel her up, trip her up or ask her out. Whilst his friends had been immature and shouted perverted comments, he had kept quiet and even tried to apologise at one point. He didn't ask to be Head Boy and it wasn't his fault that he was good at sport and was made captain. Whilst most of them didn't seem to understand the point of coming to school was to get an education, he actually studied and got good grades. He was the one, possibly the only one, who had ever seen her lose control and seen her weak and helpless just now.
She still didn't trust him but right now he was all she had.
"I … didn't want to end it ….. just escape … I … things at home …. I can't stand it anymore …. I…." She stumbled. "I-I'm fine being alone … but sometimes …there's no one there …"
"Hey …..you can talk to me. I know you think I'm one of these snooty, rich kids who think they own the school but I'm nice …. Honest …… and you can trust me." Martin said, rubbing her back. "I'm here for you Sam. Trust me."
Samantha nodded slightly. She didn't fully believe him but it was a start. After all he had just saved her life.
"Hey Sam, I've got Hilky's credit card statements." Danny called, walking over from his desk.
Samantha scooted round on her office chair and pulled a face. "It's 'Samantha' Danny and you know it. Stop winding me up."
Danny laughed. "Why do you hate being called Sam so much?" he asked, dropping a file down on her desk.
"I don't know. I just hate my name being shortened." She answered, flicking through some reports. "No one calls me 'Sam'."
"Some one out there must have called you that at some point and you didn't mind." Danny answered.
Samantha looked away and grew quiet. "Yeah, but that was a long time ago." She said softly.
Danny didn't have time to push her as Jack walked into the bullpen. "Guys, our new Agent is joining us this afternoon." He announced. "I want you to be nice." He said pointedly to Danny and Samantha.
"Oh come on Jack, you're not trying to tell me you were not relieved when Jones got a transfer to Detroit." Vivian laughed.
"Yeah, it's not our fault she was an old hag with no sense of humour who always had to be right." Danny said.
"Plus she didn't understand the concept of teamwork." Samantha added.
Jack laughed. "Okay, okay. Well, our new member of the team is young and male so no more old hags and I want all you guys to help him fit in." he said quickly, as he headed back into his office to answer his phone.
"I hope he's not some upper-class snob sent from Washington D.C." Danny muttered, returning to his work.
"Now now, don't get all territorial." Vivian said warningly. "We don't want an OPR investigation into why the New York office can't seem to retain agents for more than two months."
Samantha chuckled and started looking through the credit card statements, just as curious as Danny to see what the new Agent was like.
Samantha sat on a bench outside a café near school sipping her strawberry milkshake tentatively. The sun was hot and glaring in her face but it didn't seem to bother Martin. He sat next to her, chewing on his milkshake straw, waiting for her to say something. It unnerved her. Like someone actually wanted to listen to what she had to say. "Practice will be over soon and your friends will be over here." She stated.
"So?"
"You don't actually want them to see you here with me do you?" she said.
Martin shrugged. "Why not? Is it a crime to be seen out in public with you?"
"It is according to them. You know it is." She said, a touch bitterly. Martin didn't say anything. She turned to him curiously. "Why did you follow me behind the bike shed anyway?"
"Oh, I…..". He looked awkward and he ruffled his hair a touch nervously. Samantha could hardly believe this was the same Martin Fitzgerald who confidently spoke to the whole school last week about why he was proud to be head boy. He had seemed unfazed by the attention – which he was well used to by now – but in the last half an hour she had been with him, he had shot more than one nervous glance in her direction. Was it just because he was scared she was going to go suicidal on him again or was it because he was scared of saying something wrong and not being able to change the bad impression she already had of him? "I wanted to ask you to the Prom." He said after awhile. Samantha burst out laughing. "No, I'm serious."
"And you're going to try to tell me that your friends didn't put you up to it." She said, raising her eyebrows up.
"They didn't." Martin said, a touch offended. "I wish you wouldn't doubt me all the time. Give me a chance."
Samantha sighed and looked away. This day was just surreal. Firstly she had almost committed the ultimate in stupidity and now the coolest, most popular guy in school was asking her to the Prom. Next a director would be offering to make her life into a film ………………. "The Prom's in three months time."
"I was being prepared." Martin said. "And I guessed that I needed time to convince you." He added.
"I'm not even going to go."
"It's our last one. OUR one. The one before we graduate from high school. EVERYONE has to go." Martin argued.
"Funnily enough it's not really my scene." She stated, watching an old lady with a limp try to cross the busy road with her dog.
"I think you'll look good in a dress." Martin said, tipping his head to one side and looking at her, his eyes sparkling.
"Don't start." She said, making a face. Martin shrugged and kicked the dust with his trainers ('sneakers'). "I don't even know you. Why would I want to go to the Prom with someone I don't know?"
"The Prom's in three months time." Martin said pointedly.
Samantha looked ahead. A group of guys were walking out of the school gate towards them, carrying sports bags over their shoulders. She grew quiet and wondered how Martin was going to react.
"Hey Fitzy, you missed practice." Robert said, as five of the group walked up to Martin.
"I know, I wasn't feeling well." Martin said simply.
Robert's eyes travelled over to Samantha. "What are you doing here with her?"
"I just asked Samantha to the Prom." Martin stated.
Robert, Henry, Zach, Tom and Bill chuckled. "Oh, oh, I didn't realise you were in on the bet too." Zach exclaimed, his face clearing.
"I'm not." Martin said stoically.
"You mean you actually want to take her to the Prom as a proper date?" Robert said, his mouth practically hanging open. Robert was his best friend but most of the time Martin thought he was as bad as the rest.
"Yes. I think it's time you all stopped being complete jerks to Sam." Martin said.
Samantha stared into the remains of her milkshake. She wanted to tell Martin that she didn't need him to stand up for her, didn't need his friends to be nice to her - but she didn't find the words to say anything.
Robert and the others looked like they were going to start laughing again. "I'm serious." Martin stated. They all stood there shocked. Martin turned. "Come on Sam, I'll walk you home." He said gently.
Samantha grabbed her bag, glanced at the group of guys and let Martin take her home.
Nothing could have prepared her for the way things were about to change.
A/N:- Sorry this chapter wasn't very exciting. It was really just to give the background to the story. Chapter Two will be very long to make up for it!