Author's Note: I haven't been an active Puckentier, I know, and I apologize for that. A lot of things have come in the way of me getting on tumblr and this site lately, and to be honest, I haven't been watching the recent episodes because of the evident lack of Puckentine. A few days ago I read that the show is officially getting cancelled and that we have only two episodes left. The news hit me and affected me in a way I never thought a kids show could. My attachment and adoration for this show and its two main characters' relationship was unintentional and an accident that had resulted from last year's summer boredom. For that reason, here is a Puckentine two-shot about, well, an accident, and the way that we often easily and inexplicably get attached to impermanent things.
For now I have only the first chapter typed out. I didn't try to edit or look through it too much as I was merely typing what came to mind. Along with this, I am also working on another two-shot that is meant to depict what I wish to see (and know would not get) in a Sam and Cat finale. Once those two are fully published and completed, I will be returning to simple one-shots in case anyone out there who, like me, misses the show needs their usual dose of Puckentine.
The last thing Sam Puckett saw, before she lost control and hit the ground, was red. It was the glaring red of the taillights of the truck she had tried not to hit, a shade of scarlet so bright it screamed in her face. She had closed her eyes to shield herself from it, but in doing so had led the motorcycle she was driving straight to the next lane, and right into the path of a speeding sports car. The last thing Sam Puckett saw was red – and red was the hue she woke up to.
/
"Hi," a soft, hurried voice greets Sam's closed eyes.
She had stirred awake just moments ago, but had quickly shut her eyes again from the blinding white hospital light positioned just above her face.
The voice feels to her like it had come from somewhere far away, the single word entering her ear in echoes at first, and then one loud enunciation. She tries to peek to her side, where she thinks the voice had come from, through her closed eyelids, but she can't seem to stay focused on the figure sitting by her bed.
Cat Valentine had wasted half an hour before she finally came to the hospital upon news of her roommate's motorcycle accident. When the person on the other end of the phone call had hung up, Cat's mouth immediately fell open. In the next few minutes, she began having difficulties to breathe. In the next thirty minutes, she was lying unconscious, slouched on her living room couch, until Dice and Goomer walked in and woke her up – they had also heard about the accident, and had rushed there to see how Cat was doing.
Now, in the brightly lit hospital room, its walls sickly white and sanitary, Cat peered with growing dread into Sam's face, one side of it bandaged and the forehead wrapped too. She had been here the whole day yesterday too, and if Sam hadn't woken up it would have been two days since she's been unconscious. The doctor had told her he wasn't sure when exactly the blonde would gain consciousness, and that even when she does, Cat will have to prepare for some post-traumatic side-effects.
Cat had not understood any of that. She doesn't feel like she had to. Somewhere inside her, she has this foolish certainty that Sam would wake up just fine, and everything would be that – just fine. The surety came from her trust for Sam, her trust that no matter how badly things in her life could go, Sam would always be there to help her out, and if not, to wallow in the sadness with her. To Cat, there is no version of this accident where things won't end up just fine. It has to be just fine. She has faith in Sam, and that, to her, is enough.
So imagine the evident confusion on the poor girl's face when Sam greets her not with her usual cheeky grin, or her usual lazy grunt, but a hostile and rather frightened glare in the face.
Sam Puckett's senses had not altogether come to her. In fact, they had come in phases – first her hearing, then her sight, then her smell, then the inexplicable dry sensation in her throat, and then the feeling of Cat's light touch on her arm. She quickly pulls her arm away, although doing so sent an instant sting of pain in her shoulder.
It takes her a whole minute to register Cat's face, but when she does, it's neither friendly nor relieved thoughts that come to her mind. Rather, her confusion takes on a strangled yell as she asks, "Who the heck are you?"
The effect is immediate. There is a strained silence in which the doctor's sigh resounds, an awkward punctuation mark. It seems that this was what he had feared, and a possibility that Cat had not at all considered.
"What do you mean?" Cat asks, still putting on her smile, thinking and hoping with all her might that this is some joke she just doesn't get. "It's me."
Sam's glare on the redhead softens as she tries to once more rack her brains for answers, but nothing comes to mind. Frowning so deep in her thought is beginning to hurt her wounded head, however, so she concludes with, "I don't know you."
Cat lets out a small gasp and gets off the chair, turning to the doctor who had been watching the two's interaction with his hand rubbing his chin. "What happened to her?" Cat whispers, even though Sam could still pretty much hear her.
"Well, this is what I feared," the doctor replies, not bothering to whisper at all. He adjusts the glasses on his nose and continues, "This is absolutely normal, of course… However – it could take a while, well… It would take some time, that's to be expected… The injuries weren't too serious and we didn't really expect – but, ah… It happens. It will take some time, but…"
"What?" Cat asks, her voice a hushed and choked whisper. She can feel a weird sensation stirring up in her chest – her breathing going weird again. The doctor only sighs in reply, but the growing dread in Cat's heart knows exactly what has happened to Sam. She only wants someone to say it out loud in the hopes that it might cushion the fall a little, so she repeats herself, louder, "What?"
The doctor stares from Cat to Sam, opening his mouth several times in an attempt to give a reply that wouldn't sound too harsh for both the girls, but no words would spill.
"I should go home," Sam's voice announces in the midst of the doctor's hesitation. "My friends are probably looking for me."
At this, the doctor walks past Cat and towards Sam, asking as gently as he can, "Miss Puckett, do you remember where your home is?"
Cat watches Sam from behind the doctor carefully, still hoping in her heart that it would all be just fine. Still hoping that what she's afraid of isn't the truth.
"Well, that depends on your definition of 'home', I guess," Sam begins, sitting up on the bed. "But if there's anywhere I really want to be right now, it's obviously Carly's. Where is she, anyway? No one's called her yet?"
If heartbeats could be heard, you would at this very moment hear Cat's whole world crumbling down inside her, her inability to breathe growing even more intense, her short breaths seemingly stuck halfway through her windpipe. The doctor, turning around just in time to check on her, notices this just in time and quickly gestures for her to take a seat on the chair by the bed.
"Who is this Carly?" the doctor softly asks her.
"Her friend," Cat replies, her throat getting as dry as Sam's. "Back in Seatt – I mean, Italy. They haven't met in nearly a year now."
The doctor heaves another sigh and turns to Sam this time. "Do you know where you are right now?"
Sam stares at the older man as if he had just asked something incredibly stupid. "I don't know… A hospital?"
"That's right, that's right," the doctor replies, nodding briskly. "You're in Los Angeles Community Hospital right now, and this here is your–"
"Los Angeles?" Sam snaps, now for the first time since her regained consciousness catching Cat's eyes. She looks to her, momentarily, as if waiting for her to explain, but Cat says nothing. "What the heck am I doing in L.A.?"
"You were in an accident, do you remember that?" the doctor asks.
"Well," Sam says, looking down at her hands and the bed she is lying on, and then back at the doctor. "Obviously, I kind of figured that out. But why am I–"
"This is your friend and roommate Miss Valentine, do you recognize her?" the doctor interrupts, gesturing his hand at Cat. "She was listed as your emergency contact, and she came here immediately after we contacted her."
Sam squints with doubtful suspicion at the figure in the chair, now for the first time taking in the details of Cat's physical appearance; her burgundy hair, her slightly tanned skin, her skinny arms… But none of them rang any bells in her head. "Nope. I don't know any Valentines."
"Cat," Cat speaks up, holding her breath. "That's what you call me. Or Kid, sometimes, but mostly Cat."
"Did you say 'roommate'?" Sam turns to the doctor. "She – I'm her roommate? I… What, I live in L.A.?"
"Yes," Cat replies. She looks longingly into Sam's eyes, as if gazing deep enough into them would awaken the old Sam, the Sam she knew and had grown to love. "In my Nonna's apartment. We babysit kids. Together."
At this point, the doctor pulls her aside and away from the bed, whispering this time, "Miss Valentine, I wouldn't say it's a good idea to be pressuring her at this time, you see, she's just woken up–"
"But I can make her remember," Cat counters, defiant and desperate. "I just need to talk to her."
"I understand that, but right now doing so would only confuse and frustrate her," the doctor says, holding up his hand to stop Cat from interrupting him again. "What I suggest you do, is you take her home and let her fall back into her routine, her usual activities and hobbies. That way she might come across certain objects or places familiar to her, and it might help her regain her memory."
Cat stands there for a while, taking in all the instructions and information. She had never been good with instructions, but she knew that this was far too important a matter to mess up. Moreover, she had felt a pang of sadness at the doctor's last sentence. Was she not a person familiar enough to Sam? Enough to make her remember? What would it take to help Sam remember if all Cat's presence does is confuse her?
"So I can go home now?" Sam asks from the other end of the room, her voice louder than before. It seems she had easily overheard the not-so-quiet conversation between the doctor and her so-called roommate, and the prospect of finally coming home gave her a little hope.
"Yes," the doctor says, turning back to Sam. "But not to Seattle."
"You mean I have to go back with – with her?" Sam asks, pointing at Cat, unwilling and seemingly repulsed. "You're telling me to go somewhere with a stranger?"
"Not a stranger," the doctor says, shaking his head. "Your roommate. Your friend. Now it's going to take some time for you to recover, both physically and mentally, but–"
"I'm fine," Sam snaps.
"Okay, that's good," the doctor nods impatiently. "But you will experience frequent headaches, coming from triggers – that's, uh, you know, when you might come across something that would help you remember." The doctor turns to Cat this time, and says, "I also advise you two not to resume your babysitting activities for some time now."
"Okay," Cat says, nodding eagerly.
"Alright, so it's settled, then," the doctor concludes, clasping his hands together and releasing another long but relieved sigh. "Miss Puckett, do you agree?"
"You're saying I can't go back to Seattle? At all?" Sam asks, her face bitter and angered.
"Sam, your motorcycle's ruined and I don't think you should be driving anytime soon," Cat explains, her words soft and afraid. She knows that look on Sam's face all too well. She knows that restraining Sam from doing what she wants is a horrible idea, but all she wants right now is for Sam to be back to normal, and for that to happen, she's willing to do anything. "But when you're healthy again, I guess we could take a trip to Seattle… I mean, if you want."
Sam looks at the two people in the room, her stare moving back and forth from the doctor to Cat. "I have a motorcycle?"
"Indeed, the vehicle that caused the accident," the doctor explains. "And Miss Valentine is absolutely correct. No driving or long-distance travelling of any kind until we make sure everything is alright."
Sam rolls her eyes and looks away for a few seconds, thinking of what she could do to work around the doctor's instructions. What she could do to get herself back to Seattle, back where she belonged. She had wondered a few minutes ago why Carly still isn't looking for her. Nevermind her, but even Freddie, too. But the thought of her waking up to a stranger and realizing that none of her friends had tried looking for her kind of pained her heart, and so she had tried not to think about it too much. Finally, she looks Cat in the eyes and asks, "When I get home, can I call Carly? If I can't go there, maybe she can come here and explain some things to me."
Cat stares down uneasily at her fingers, intertwined with each other, her nails picking on the dead skin on her thumbs. "Um… I don't think that's possible."
"What? Why not?" Sam demands, frowning.
"Sam," Cat sighs, looking up decisively. "Carly's not in Seattle anymore. She's in Italy, with her dad. You told me that. That's… That's kind of why you're here in L.A., with me."
Sam's jaws drop open just as her breathing feels jammed. This time it's her turn to experience the shock Cat had gone through just minutes ago. None of what Cat had said registered clearly in her mind after the words "not in Seattle anymore". Sam had tuned out almost immediately and entered a dreadful trance in which she began to feel afraid, and sad, and angry. She had not liked the things she heard, but it all made tragic sense. She is angry that she seems to be the only clueless person in the room, sad that Carly was no longer in Seattle and she doesn't know why, and afraid because she didn't know what to do.
"Sam?" Cat's voice can be heard, worried and loud and just as frightened as Sam is feeling.
"Miss Puckett?" the doctor joined.
The truth is, an instant rush of sadness had taken over her, followed by a morbid set of questions in her head. What is she supposed to do now that Carly isn't in Seattle anymore? How could Carly leave her like that? Has Carly forgotten about her completely by now? Does anyone aside from her so-called roommate know she's been in an accident? What is she supposed to do with this stranger called Cat Valentine? Why couldn't she die instead of lose her memory? That way, wouldn't things be a lot easier for this Cat Valentine? After all, she had lost what she called home. What more can Cat Valentine do for her?