Author's Note: I had to throw in some Josh and Sam! :)

Among the things that tormented Sam were her memories.

A week after Hannah and Beth disappeared a year ago, Sam had gone over to their house, to get some of her things that were still in Hannah's room. The Washingtons would not clean out Hannah and Beth's rooms, as doing so would have made their case final, and they weren't ready to give up yet. In the back of all of their minds… they all couldn't help suspecting that Hannah and Beth were dead. But no one ever so much as uttered the possibility.

But Sam also wanted to see Josh. She had been so worried about him. She texted him, but he was always so quiet and dismissive. She would have to confront him in person.

She knocked on the door of the large house, and Josh opened the door with a warm smile. "Hey, what's up Sammy?" She smiled back at him, greeting him with a hug. He followed her up to Hannah's room, where she grabbed a shirt lying in the desk chair and a DVD sitting on Hannah's dresser.

She looked at Josh, who was leaning against the doorframe casually. He smiled at her, the definition of okay. She turned and looked back at Hannah's desk, which still had notes and papers lying all over it… pictures of Mike… Sam felt her chest sink. Hannah had been so innocent—so excited at the idea that Mike had actually expressed interest in her. Sam knew Hannah better than anyone deep down; other people thought she was just obsessed with Mike because he was older and sexy, but she really respected him, saw him for who he was deep down. She'd liked him for so long… and it just didn't seem fair to Sam that girls like Emily would get him.

Sam never cried, and she wished she could stop now, in front of Josh, but instead she just sat down on Hannah's bed and fell over, lying across the bed on her side, sniffling her tears. Sam felt the squishy comforter under her hands, she couldn't help but think of all the nights she had stayed over and slept in that very bed with her best friend, all the secrets they had shared only with each other late at night.

But with Hannah gone, Sam was alone. She had "friends" but they were all secondary, because of Hannah and Beth. Sam had never been good at talking about feelings, to anyone but Hannah, and she definitely didn't want to let them out in front of Josh, who she knew was hurting too.

But she couldn't hold it though she tried. The tears came and she fell down on to the bed, covering her face with her arm.

Josh looked at the athletic blond who was normally so strong and proud, for her to cry in front of anyone besides his sisters he knew that was truly hurting.

"Hey… uh… You want me to leave?" Josh called from the door, his voice calm and soothing, not uncomfortable at all. Sam wasn't sure. She wanted the solitude to be alone in her friend's room and mourn her, but she also knew that Josh might be the only other person who understood how she felt, who she could talk to about Hannah. She shook her head, and finally sat up, but kept her head turned away from him. He nodded his head slowly, methodically, and then he sauntered over to the bed, sitting down on the edge next to Sam, though not touching her. Sam had spent a lot of time at his house with him and his sisters, but they'd never been alone like this before.

She felt him sit next to her, but still couldn't look at him. "I'm sorry Josh..." was all she could manage. Josh's brow furrowed, "Sam—why are you sorry…?" he asked in a very puzzled voice. Her eyes snapped to Josh's. "I just stood there and watched them leave! Why didn't I go too? Why did I just stand there like an idiot?" She looked away from his shocked face, "It's my fault…" she muttered pathetically, voice broken, "Josh… what if I could have helped them…?" saying the thought out loud broke her, and she began sobbing, louder this time.

Josh wrapped his arm around her slowly, not sure what else to do. She couldn't take the blame for this… it was only his… He held her tightly, feeling that if he let her out of his sight, she too would be gone, and he couldn't lose anyone else. He noticed how good it felt…. to hold someone else.

"It's not your fault," came his quiet, confident voice, betraying the storm inside him for her sake, "I should have been there. I was their big brother and I wasn't even… awake when they needed me," the words were a struggle to him, who usually found words so naturally. He looked down into her eyes gently, his face serious, "Sam… you were a far better big sister to them than I ever was a brother."

"Don't blame yourself for this Josh…" she muttered quietly, though sincerely. Josh looked down at her, then after a pause he lifted her head with his hand gingerly, forcing her to look at him through her watery eyes. "Only if you don't blame yourself. Okay?" The way he looked at her, she couldn't see anything else. Only those deep eyes, hiding a whole world that she suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to dive into… She was speechless at his words, so she merely nodded. He was suddenly very glad she was there—she needed to be told it wasn't her fault. They both needed to be told it wasn't their fault…

As she cried softly on his arm, he understood that he was holding the one other person in the world who might understand him. A glimmer of hope shone in his dark heart.

"They don't understand, Sam…"

Sam calmed her breathing, "Don't understand what?"

"What they did… how we feel…"

Sam thought for a moment. It was so hard to defend the horrible thing they'd did to her best friend but she was also a reasonable person. They didn't deserve to all be tortured by the guilt of killing their friends. "They were their friends too. They miss them too. And they all feel horrible. They aren't even talking to each other right now."

"Are you defending those assholes?" Josh's eyebrows furrowed as his voice raised inquisitively, though not aggressively.

Sam didn't miss a beat, "Look, Josh, nothing can make what they did okay… But they are dealing with this too, remember."

She knew that Josh would forgive them, just as she had eventually. He was just frustrated with the fact that he was unable to do anything to prevent what happened, and that he'd probably always hate himself for it.

He was silent for a moment, both of them staring at the wall quietly. "They didn't know them like we did."

Sam shook her head. "No… they didn't," she said simply. He sat still reverently for a while, rubbed his hand along her shoulder comfortingly. "We'll be okay, Sammy…" his voice was the sound of confidence, but he never believed a word that came out of his mouth anymore. With her there though, everything already felt infinitely better.


Sam began going over to Josh's at least twice a week, as she always had for Hannah. No one could ever replace her, but if Sam was going to have another best friend, who better than her brother? The thought made it easier for her to move on. The same way that helping his sister's best friend made it easier for Josh to move on. They helped each other in ways they themselves didn't fully understand.

Sam followed Josh to his room, where they often sat on his huge, comfy couch to watch a movie or play video games. As he walked into his room, Josh noticed he'd forgotten to put his pills away this morning. He smoothly grabbed the bottle off his desk noiselessly before Sam could enter the room.

She sat down on the couch, leaning back comfortably, as Josh casually opened the desk drawer and shoved the pills in. She turned around and laid her head on the back of the couch observantly. Inside the drawer Josh noticed one of Hannah's old notes. He froze as he picked it up, not remembering he had shoved it underneath some of the junk in that drawer, which he never used. "What's that?" Sam finally asked when he didn't say anything. Josh looked up at Sam's voice, "Oh, it's uh, it's a note… from Hannah."

Sam stood and walked over to stand next to him, reading it over his shoulder after she was sure he didn't mind. He was uncomfortably silent, but she only laughed quietly. "Of course it's about Mike," she said shaking her head. Josh nodded finally, "Yeah…" and then he seemed to change suddenly, to snap out of some trance and return to his charming self, "Was this guy the only thing she thought about?" he turned to look at Sam with a slight smile on the corner of his mouth, a slight twinkle in his eyes. He knew more than most about his sisters—he'd grown closer to them when their dad stopped paying attention to them—but there were things that sisters simply didn't tell their big brothers. These are the things that Sam often told Josh about Hannah, and he listened in utter calmness, as it slowly ate away at him inside.

Sam giggled, "Weeeell…. She thought about some other stuff," she said with a smile, "Occasionally she thought about school and you know, eating and stuff. But no, most of the time it was Mike," she joked.

Josh gave a small, quiet laugh. He appreciated her humor. It was something that helped him get by. But she was still serious at the same time; she didn't ever make light of their lives or deaths in any way, but she made him feel better somehow. Josh tucked the note back into the drawer and slide it shut slowly. "He would've been lucky to have her," he said simply, but it still broke Sam's heart. She didn't cry much anymore, especially not with Josh. He had just helped her get over so much, and on top of that, they both felt the impulsive desire to be strong around each other, even though they were the two people with whom they could both be completely vulnerable around, and they knew it. The thought scared Josh to death though, and Sam just wasn't so good with feelings sometimes.

Sam leaned her head against Josh, a comforting gesture that had become common with her. They had become much more physically comfortable with each other, as Sam had spent a lot of time buried in his chest, and he'd spent a lot of time holding her in a brotherly way. They never touched each other in a deeper way, and they never questioned the way they touched each other comfortingly, but physical contact had become a natural part of their interactions, since neither of them wanted to talk sometimes. "To be honest: I always rooted for Hannah. I think Mike can do better than Emily." She said it lightly; she meant no animosity toward Emily. But Hannah was her best friend.

Josh looked down at her and shook his head, "Hey. To each his own, man," he said, lifting his hands in a shrug. "I'm sure Emily has her perks." His smile was devilish. Sam shoved his shoulder roughly but gently at the same time, and he laughed at her as he stumbled, catching the corner of the desk.

"Ow…" he mumbled, holding his side, "I hope you're planning to kiss that," he said in an exaggeratedly joking voice. Sam narrowed her eyes teasingly at him. Josh's sexual jokes were meaningless and harmless, and she knew it. His teasing was just a part of who he was. She had to hide her laughter and her smile, to pretend that she didn't find them funny; she couldn't encourage him.

As he began to walk over to the couch, Sam glanced up and noticed a montage of photos of Hannah and Beth that Josh had made over his desk. He must've just made it, as she hadn't seen it before. Her heart sank again. She had known how much Josh had loved his sisters, but when she could see the proof, from a guy who was less than straight forward about talking about his feelings, it hurt like hell. She was beginning to wonder though, if enough time had passed to ask him about getting help. She wasn't sure if some of the things he did were entirely healthy for him… but she didn't know what was best. It was just that she couldn't tell anymore.

He always acted the same around her—calm and composed and okay—but then she saw things like this and was reminded that he was far from it. Of course he wasn't okay. His sisters had died in a horrible, traumatic accident of a "prank" gone wrong by her own friends, while he was unconscious and unable to do anything to stop it… It had to be eating him alive inside. She knew that people with depression rarely showed any signs of it around other people, and so she assumed, just the same as Josh's doctors and all his other friends, that it was depression that tortured him. If she'd known, had any indication that it was anything else, she would've fought him tooth and nail until he got help.

But even Josh didn't know what was wrong with him. The doctors said depression, but… he wasn't sad anymore. He was… angry. At his friends at first, but now just… at himself. Not only for not being able to stop it but… for it ever happening in the first place. And he could push that voice aside, but… only for so long. And he couldn't stand the way it made him feel, the things it made him see, and hear…

She sat down on the couch next to him as he messed with the remote. "Hey. Have you gone to see anyone about Hannah and Beth…?" she asked casually, "Cuz, I mean, that's totally normal, that's what people are supposed to do when family members die actually, and… there's medicine that can really help with depression…"

Josh was silent for a moment, careful of what to say. "I don't... I don't need... medicine, Sam," he said solemnly.

"You don't have a therapist or anything?" Sam asked suddenly very concerned. She couldn't believe he'd never gotten any kind of help.

Josh tilted his head, lifted an eyebrow, and gave Sam a half smile, "Come on, Sam." He leaned his weight on one hip casually, "I'm fine," he assured her, his eyes nothing if not comforting and strong. He needed her to believe this about him. He needed her in his life… and he was so sure she'd leave him if she knew how fucked up he really was. And despite how much he needed her to be there for him but wouldn't admit it to himself… he wanted to believe—had to believe—that she needed him, and he'd be what she needed.

"Thanks to you," he added quietly, his face serious. Moments like this completely caught Sam off guard. Moments like this stole her breath right out of her chest. But she hid it well, almost as well as Josh. He didn't sound flirtatious or seductive or anything really—his voice was only serious—but that's what was so different, when he was this serious. She smiled and nodded at him, "Well… sometimes I wonder where I'd be without you too…" she admitted.

Josh stepped closer to her, "Oh, come on, Sammy," he said with a smile, "You're the definition of strong. You don't need anybody." He envied this so much about her. And loved it all at the same time. She turned her head so he couldn't see her checks turn slightly redder. He always knew exactly what to say. "I need you…" she thought. Instead she spun back around and shoved her pointer finger accusingly onto his chest, "Well you better not go anywhere," she said firmly, but with a slight joking undertone.

He smiled, pushing her hand down with his. "Can I go pee?" he asked quietly, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer. Sam crossed her arms in front of her chest; she had learned to roll with his quick-witted humor flawlessly.

She looked down at her watch, "You have one minute," she answered dead seriously. He turned with a smile, as she called to him, "I'm watching you like a hawk."

"Oh please?" came his jokingly seductive voice.


Life began to return to relative normalcy for them again. Sam hung out with Josh frequently, saw the light in his eyes returning, having no idea that it was because of her, also having no idea of the darkness he became better and better at concealing. She hung out with Ashley every now and then; Ashley hung out with Chris, and Chris hung out with Josh, and occasionally, the four of them would hang out together. Mike, Jessica, Matt, and Emily were pretty distant from the others. They were only in the group because of Hannah's crush on Mike in the first place, but the others suspected that they kept their distance because of their guilt as well. For this reason, Sam made a habit of texting Mike, to make sure they were okay. She had gained a bit of respect for him after she'd seen a glimmer of goodness in the way the man had handled the situation, strong and silent to give the girls a strong post to lean on, but also deeply and genuinely sentimental deep down, in the places he didn't really let people see. He had gone to Josh without hesitation to personally offer his apologies and condolences, the only one in the group who had the nerve. It had meant a lot to Josh. And therefore Sam.

Tonight, Josh, Sam, Chris, and Ashley had been drinking together-with a bit of reluctance from Ashley, who insisted, albeit shyly, that she didn't drink. But all it took was Chris, her best friend, flashing her that irresistible smile that said, "c'mon Ash, it'll be okay, I promise," with the touch of flirtatious smirk pulling at one side of his mouth—which she was pretty sure was unintentional but that made him so fucking attractive—and she trusted him completely. She rolled her eyes as she took the bottle, though inwardly, she was swooning over that look in his gentle, calm eyes; the way he looked at her made her feel so… alive and… loved, and special. No one else had ever made her feel that way. As Chris tried to ignore how sexy Ashley looked biting her lip as she took a sip, Ashley was dealing with the fact that she probably would've jumped off a cliff if Chris told her to. It scared her, but she had never felt so connected to someone.

Ashley was sprawled across Chris's body now, both of them asleep. Chris was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, and Ashley's head rested on his thigh, her arms wrapped around his torso as if she would never let him move. Josh and Sam were sitting in the corner, laughing and smiling like they usually did. Josh reached forward to tickle Sam's sides, his fingers dancing playfully around her stomach. A genuine smile that showed his teeth lit up his face. Sam slapped at his hands, though she was too slow to actually shove them away. She giggled at Josh, her more playful side coming out when she was drunk. "Stop, stop, stop!" she argued half-heartedly, covering her sides.

She fell forward, her head colliding with his shoulder. Josh looked down at her and then noticed Chris and Ashley. He nudged Sam's side with his elbow several times, lifting her head, "Sammy, look!" he exclaimed, more excited than he should've been. She lifted her head and smiled widely at them, "Duuuddee….. they are so drunk." Josh turned his head slowly back around to look at her, letting a laugh that he tried to conceal escape through his perfect lips. "Fffft…. Not like you at all?" he came back at her, his sarcasm still flawless even drunk.

Sam lifted her hand to her head to protest. "Hey!" she exclaimed, giving him a hard shove right to the center of his chest. Her hand lingered, partly because she had limited motor skill, but also because of the muscles she could feel underneath his thin shirt. Her hand slid down his chest, and her eyebrows furrowed slightly, enjoying the feel of his well-defined abs, which she'd never truly appreciated before, though she managed to make no comment.

She could feel his muscles tighten at the way she moved her hand, but her attention suddenly shot back to Chris and Ashley. It seemed that being drunk always made people suddenly very interested in drama.

"Look at them!"

Josh smiled, "Dude, we need pictures..." He began fumbling around for his phone.

"Why aren't they a thing, Josh?" She snapped her head around to look at him, suddenly very serious and confused.

Josh pointed at her enthusiastically, "Tha'ss what I'm sayin!"

Without considering whether or not she should say it, Sam burst out, "Ashley… just wants Chris to fuck her!" she howled with laughter at her suddenly blunt remark, though it was true-well, most likely. Ashley and Sam talked about Chris a lot, and Sam had basically filled in the blanks with this comment.

"I knew it! But I can't… get… the little shit to man up!" Josh exclaimed through laughter as well.

Sam giggled through her teeth, trying not to laugh, but finally she leaned forward and admitted, "You are so funny, Josh," her censoring capabilities long gone.

"Girl, I know," he shrugged with a satisfied expression, shrugging nonchalantly.

"And—and, you're sweet. You are so sweet," she gushed, trying to sound serious but failing in her drunkenness. Even in this state, she felt so incredibly grateful for everything he'd done for her over the past months. More than she could ever tell him. Sober at least.

"Sweet?" Josh scoffed, "Pffffft, ain't nothing sweet about me, honey," he put air quotes around "sweet," though his motor skills were rough at best, "I'm an animal," he lifted his hands like claws, though almost hit himself in the face in the process, "I will eat you alive."

Sam tried to ignore how sexy that sounded as he said it close to her ear in his smooth, slow voice.

"I bet I could, like… lift you with one hand… huh?"

Sam laughed loudly. "Yeah okay, try it, Mr. Animal." Both of them were too drunk to realize how horrible of an idea it was. Josh stumbled to his feet and slid a hand under Sam, straining himself to lift her as she laughed hysterically. Finally, he collapsed on top of her stomach. "Oh my God, you t—tried… so hard. A for effort," she said, still laughing. She could smell the sweet scent of his dark soft hair in her face, and she reached out impulsively and grabbed a handful to play with.

"Mmmnngg…" Josh made a deep sound in his throat before he had time to think about what was happening. Shit. He sat up quickly, fumbling with his hands and accidentally groping her a bit. "Sorry," he mumbled. Normally, she might have slapped someone, but Sam didn't care a tiny bit right now.

Sam noticed he was talking about something, but she couldn't stop staring at him. Her eyes were caught on his smooth lips, the graceful and subtle way they moved, and she had the impulse to run her finger across them. They looked so soft…

"Josh—you are so sexy," she said suddenly very serious, though her eyes could not focus on him.

Josh paused for a moment, eyes squinting as he tried to catch up; then he merely smiled. "Well I need to get you drunk more often. I like all the compliments," he said in a very smooth, flirty voice.

"No, seriously, I mean… I… I love you," she stuttered. It almost sounded like a question though.

Josh shook his head, surprisingly unfazed, "No you don't," he said dismissively with a smile.

"No y—you're so… good… Yeah you can be… s—stubborn and ssssilly sometimes… but… but…" she searched for the words, her train of thought threatening to drift away, "I have never sssseen more compassion in a man…"

Josh put a finger on her lips, "Shhhhhhh," he told her, laughing lightly, not fully able to process what she was saying, but he wouldn't believe it even if he could. Still, he put his arms on either side of her head and kneeled down on top of her, his brain screaming at him, though it was too muted from the alcohol. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! You idiot! You can't do this!"

Sam did the logical thing to do when you're that close to a person and you're drunk. She kissed him. He didn't move for a moment, but then he leaned into it, harder than he meant to. He put his hands on the back of her neck and pulled her to him hungrily.

They could have written it off as teenagers being drunk and making out—it happened all the time. But their movements were too hungry, too eager, and they held each other too tightly…

Sam pretended she didn't remember anything about that night. It was true to some extent—they could only partly recall certain moments. She never had any idea that Josh remembered but pretended not to as well. Each assuming that they were both too drunk to mean anything they said or did, they continued to play "friends" just like they always did. Besides, Josh knew Sam was not capable of loving him—no one was. It didn't matter though—they were too important to each other to risk it.