AuthorsNote: So the first order of business is to be said that this is my first OTH fic. I wrote it from the POV of basically Sam and Brooke because I ADORED their relationship in the show, as I did with Brooke and Peyton.
Now usually I write Xmen fics with my OC of Samantha but please let it be known that I did NOT create my Samantha based off of this one, nor was she even inspired by her. I created my Samantha and her relationship with Jean a LONG WHILE before season 6 of OTH even came out if you check my original archives elsewhere you'd see that. In fact, when the season first came out, I jokingly (sort of) would accuse the OTH for ripping me off..I don't really...agree with that..(again..sort of).

But any who, I just find it really easy to hear Sam and Brooke because they are so much like my other fandom. So blah.

This is my first OTH fix again, just a teaser to kind of test the waters in this fandom. Hopefully you guys will be kinder to me in the form of reviews than my other verse. And without further ado, I give you...

"Samantha!"

Samantha's eyes snapped open at the sound of her name being called. The way that it slurred off of the tongue of its beholder told her that a storm was brewing in her immediate vicinity, closing in on her quickly. She chose not to answer, closing her eyes once more as she lay on her back on top of her bed sheets, her head sunken into the slightly flat pillow behind her brunette hair.

Maybe if she didn't answer, maybe if she stayed put and pretended that she was somewhere else, some place where there was nothing wrong, it would go away. Her drunken pursuer would leave her alone.

"SAMANTHA!"

The yell for her was louder and once again Samantha opened her eyes letting a silent tear slip out the corner of left eye and down her face into her pillow. She cried in anticipation of the pain that she knew would fill her body and her mind once she was discovered and pulled from her make believe sanctuary just as she always was.

Samantha saw no point in moving, no point in attempting to see what it was that her birth mother wanted from her because what ever it was, she would not be able to give it to her. It would not stop Rebecca from laying into her for another time, painting her sides red and blue and injecting pain into her entire body. Using either her own hands, or what-ever object she could grasp onto with drunk unsteady fingers and swing at her. And try as she might to fight her off and escape, she just could not resist the strength that Rebecca's alcoholic drink of the day gave to her. Samantha heard a loud bump on the door of her small bedroom and still she did not move. Besides, where else could she go? Who would deal with this hopeless foster kid. This burden of another woman? This useless incompetent teenager?

Slowly the door knob turned and it was, with more force than necessary, pushed open. It made contact with the wall behind it, leaving a dent in the wall.

"Did you hear me calling you brat?" Rebecca leaned on the door that was still pressed against the wall behind it, using the doorknob to steady herself. Samantha sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring at her feet firmly planted on the carpet floor. "Answer me when I'm talking to you!" Rebecca reached out and smacked Samantha on the side of the head, more to get her attention than to hurt her.

"Yes…" Samantha's voice was small as she avoided the eyes of her mother, but even if she didn't, Rebecca's eyes wouldn't even be able to focus on hers.

"So you ignoring me now?" Rebecca stood up straight…or as straight as she could manage, and started to stalk around the room. She ran her finger along the wall, probably looking for an object to grab and throw at her teenage daughter.

"You're drunk." Rebecca laughed at that as she stopped and turned towards Samantha who still stared at the spot that she had just vacated, her hand resting on a book on top of a desk in the room.

"Well yeah, captain fucking obvious." Rebecca shook her head with her eyes closed, a drunk grin plastered on her face. "Because I have to deal," Rebecca paused and put her other hand out, taking a moment to steady herself. "With a little bitch…like you!" She picked up the book and flung it with her 'drunken strength' at Samantha who was not expecting it as it connected with her cheek and fell in her lap. Samantha pushed the book away from her and quickly got to her feet, the tears flowing and connecting with the fingertips of her left hand as she held her hurt cheek.

"Please!" Samantha pleaded as she slowly backed out of the room and into the hall way, her back pressed against the wall as Rebecca began to approach her.

"It never had to be like this Samantha. I wanted you back, the little girl I imagined…" Rebecca grabbed Samantha's face with her right hand, a tight grip on her jaw as she pressed her head harder to the wall. "Not who they turned you into. Do you think you're better than me? Better than this? Because you're not!" Rebecca used her free hand to grab a hand of Samantha's hair and throw her to the ground. Samantha attempted to crawl away from her tormentor. "This is your life Samantha! This will always be your life! Those fucking people will not come save you, you don't mean anything to them!" Out of blind rage, Rebecca drove her foot into Samantha's side who rolled over with a violent scream of pain. Clutching at her ribs on the floor Samantha began to shake with tears. Even more frightening than her current ordeal, was the thought of how many times this would happen. How many times would she be left with bruises and scars all over her body that she would have to make up elaborate stories to tell people of why she looked the way she did. "God, get up!"

Rebecca moved past Samantha trembling on the floor holding herself, and into the kitchen where she had left a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. It was a new bottle that she had brought only yesterday, and now, at 10 o'clock in the morning the next day, it was only a small amount of the colorless liquid in the bottle.

Samantha watched from her position on the floor, her vision blurred with tears and wondered what her birth mother would be like if she did not constantly keep a bottle in her hand. After leaving Brooke and coming to stay with Rebecca, things had stayed light. She rarely ever saw a bottle accompanying her mother and when Rebecca looked at her, it was not with hate and disgust, and impatience in her eyes. It was compassion, understanding, guilt, and love. Love, that was something that she rarely felt anymore. There had been only two people who made her feel truly loved; her best friend (who in a different way also made her alcoholic mother happy) Jack Daniels, and Brooke Davis. Samantha missed Brooke, but something told her that her mother was right, that she wasn't really one of them and couldn't stay in that pretend world forever.

She was a Walker, not a Davis.

"GET UP!" Her mother screamed bloody murder at her and quickly drank down the last of the liquid in the bottle, throwing her head all the way back, letting her short brown hair fall behind her and the bottom of the bottle see the ceiling. Pulling the empty bottle away from her lips, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and hurled the glass bottle at Samantha who was still on the floor. Seeing the projectile coming for her, Samantha turned over out of its trajectory and covered her face from the broken glass that would erupt towards her when it smashed against the old hard wood floor. Hearing Rebecca's footsteps approach her again, Samantha quickly rose to her feet.

"Please just…leave me alone!" Samantha forced out between sobs.

"SHUT UP!" Rebecca swung at Samantha's face with an open hand, slicing threw the air with powerful force behind it, Rebecca connected with her target who continued to move backwards, tripping over a chair behind her. Samantha once again made contact with the floor and her mother gave her another vicious kick. "Where are they now? WHERE!" Rebecca reached for the broom that rested against the wall near the kitchen entrance and held it in her right hand as Samantha balled up in anticipation of what was to come. "Yeah, yeah you scream for her now." Her mother nodded at her work as she snarled at her daughter on the floor, broom in hand, alcohol on her breath, and hate in her voice. She lowered her voice barely above a whisper.

"Brooke." Samantha said quietly through gritted teeth where only she could hear, as if pretending that Brooke was there, and that she would protect her…make the pain go away. Pretending that maybe, the same way she had done before, Brooke would come running through the front door knowing that she was in trouble and save her from her nightmare.

"Scream for me!" Her mother yelled again as she raised the broom above her head and brought it down with all of her weight into it, smashing it into her daughters body, Samantha could only manage one scream as the broom connected with her body and shot pain throughout her, the first of many blows.

"BROOKE!"

AuthorsNote: So there you have it. My first chapter of hopefully a long stint in your fandom. Thank you for having me. Please review.