Author's Note: Well, I saw A. Tams review, and it made me feel sad. Even with a broken wrist, I managed another update for y'all. Happy summer! I know it's really short, but... I tried.


Chapter 8

"Jessica!" I hear Sam's deep voice as I latch myself onto the biggest ledge there is that's jutting out of the mountain's side. While it's the largest, it's by no means large, and my fingers are straining to keep hold. I feel myself slipping. I look down and start to shake, my arms not able to hold all my body weight like this.

"Sam!" I yell shrilly, my nerves choking my vocal chords. "Sam!"

"Hold on, Jess!" I hear thumping from up above.

"I'm slipping! God dammit, Sam! I'm slipping!"

"Jessica!" It's Tommy's voice this time. "Fuck! Jessie!"

"Jessica, look up!" Sam is on his stomach, his torso folded over the ledge, his arm outstretched towards me. He has taken off his coat, and there's a large gash of blood running down his arms. When I see this, I start to realize the stabbing pain in my own and look to see deep crimson spots soaking through rips in my coat sleeves. "Jess, you have to let go of the ledge and grab my hand, okay?" Sam says calmly, though I can hear a shred of panic in his voice. "Let go, Jess. Let go of the ledge."

Arms trembling, I loosen my grip. Terrified, I clench on harder than before and shake my head. "Sam, I can't," I say. I'm crying, and I don't realize it until the hot tears sting my face. "I can't let go."

"Yes, you can," Sam demands.

"Dammit, Jessie, do what he says!" Tommy yells from up above me.

"Jess, please," Sam begs me. "Come on. I won't let you fall. I swear. I'm not going to let you get hurt. You have to trust me, okay? Trust me."

Terrified, I reach one hand up and close my eyes tight. Stinging arms aching, I start to slip. Panicking, I open up my eyes just in time to see Sam gripping my hand with one of his large ones. I reach up and clasp my open hand to his wrist, and he pulls me up, anchoring himself to the top of the mountain with his free hand. When he pulls me off the edge, I collapse on top of him in a heap, sobbing loudly, burying my face into his chest, while he does his best to hold my shaking body in his arms.

"Jessie," Tommy says, relieved. I can hear that Melissa is crying beside him.

I feel Tommy's hand touch my shoulder, and without thinking, I yell shrilly, "Don't touch me!" I take a few deep breaths as he backs away. "Don't touch me." For a moment no one says anything. I don't think that I didn't want Tommy to hold me. I think it's just that I wanted Sam to hold me more.

When we get home, Tommy is silently shaking beneath the fear written on his face. Right now, though, he knows how to keep his mouth shut. I'm still shaking so hard that Sam ends up carrying me inside, shuffling sideways through the front door in order to get me inside. Mom sees us walk in and is on her feet in an instant, face ashen. "What happened?" she gasps, following as Sam brings me into the living room. He tries to set me down on the couch, but my fingers are closed so tightly around the cloth of his shirt that I'm not sure I remember how to let go. Instead of prying me away, he sits himself on the couch, laying me across his lap. I curl into his chest and tremble, eyes shut tightly. "Is she okay?"

Sam can't speak. I can feel him struggle to get the words out, and I can feel the fight inside his chest. But he doesn't say a word.

"She's fine, Mom," Melissa says quietly, though she's clutching onto Tommy just as hard as I'm holding onto Sam.

"Okay— Roger!" Momma yells through the house. "Roger, come in here!" I can hear Daddy thundering down the stairs. "What happened?" she asks quietly, kneeling down next to me and gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I flinch away and bury my face into Sam's flannel shirt, blocking out all light and pictures. And inside my head, all I can see is me falling.

"Beth… wh-what happened?" I hear Daddy ask seconds later.

"It was my fault," Sam says, voice strangled. The reverberations in his chest buzz against my cheek, and the warm sound of his voice slowly starts to calm my shaking. "We were fighting, and she-she took off after me. I didn't know—" He tapers off, and the room swims in silence. He kisses the top of my head and picks his own up to look at my family. I'm still too scared to say anything out loud.

"Melissa and I rounded the corner just in time to see her topple off the edge," Tommy finishes with a bit of venom in his voice. Mom gasps out loud, and in my mind's eye, I see her grabbing onto my dad's arm with her vice grip, eyes wide, panic stricken on her face. "Jessie grabbed a ledge, though, and Sam pulled her back up. For a minute there, I thought Sam was going to topple over the edge too."

"Sweetheart, are you hurt?" Daddy asks, his voice coming up right behind my head. He's kneeling on the ground in front of the couch, keeping a careful distance so he doesn't scare me. I want to answer him, but every time I think about that ledge rushing to my face, my throat constricts. A whimper involuntarily bubbles out of my lips.

"Her arms are pretty torn up," Sam rasps. "We did the best we could with the first-aid kit in the car, but there wasn't much we had to work with."

"I patched her up," Tommy says. "She'll be fine, Dad. She's just in shock. I think… I think we were lucky Sam was there." I can feel Sam's head twist to look at Tommy, an understanding rippling through them. A moment of peace, maybe a silent truce, and I'm shaking so hard that I can't get on my knees and praise the Lord for it.

I feel Dad put the back of his hand against my exposed cheek. I shiver deeply and bury my face deeper into Sam's shirt, pulling his coat around me tightly. He gave up his coat when we were up on that mountain, and being as freaked out as I am, I didn't tell him no. "Why don't you get her upstairs, and let her rest for now?" Dad asks Sam. I feel my boyfriend nod and slowly, awkwardly get to his feet with me cradled in his arms.

Silently, we travel upstairs, and I clutch my hands weakly around his shirt. I don't know why I'm still shaking. It's been almost forty-five minutes since I tumbled, and I still can't get control of myself. Sam is moving slowly, carefully, like he's afraid I'll break apart in his arms. When we get to our room, he somehow turns the doorknob and carries me inside. I don't realize how much I'm really shaking until he sets me on the bed by myself.

"Sam," I mutter worriedly.

He takes a deep breath. "Oh, Jess." He sits on the bed and reaches his hand out towards me, but he stops midway, dropping it into his lap and looking down, ashamed. "I am so sorry," he whispers, mortified. "I'm so sorry."

"Sam," I try to say back, but my words get caught in my throat, and my voice cracks.

"Shh," he says quietly. He leans in and gently kisses my cheek. He pulls the covers up around me and says, "Go to sleep." When I whimper again, he sighs and gently clambers in behind me. Draping his arms around my shaking frame, he shushes me quietly and rubs small circles on my arm until I drift off into sleep.