"How are you feeling?" Sam questions, coming into Josh's room with two cups of tea. It's been nearly a month since they found him, but a shotgun wound and abdominal surgery seem to require a lengthy burst of bedrest. He's healing up nicely, though. The scars of every injury are still an angry red, but they no longer bleed for no reason and they don't hurt as badly anymore. The optometrist even visited him in the hospital and set him up with a pair of glasses. He doesn't like them, but Sam thinks they suit his features well.
"I'm good," Josh says, smiling the moment she comes into view. "I'll be ready to party like a pornstar in no time." She rolls her eyes at the comment, but cracks a smile as she hands Josh a glass. "So, how is everyone?" he asks on a more serious note.
"You should know, they've all come to visit you. Why don't you tell me how they're doing," she counters, brushing a strand of blonde hair back into her updo.
"Like they would tell me," Josh says, trying halfheartedly to mask the bitterness. "I know, I know. That night… I started it. I broke everyone's trust. I brought all of you up on that mountain and everyone almost died."
"Come on now," Sam replies, giving his shoulder a shove so he'll scoot over, giving her room to sit down beside him. "They know you weren't thinking clearly. They've all visited you too, more than once. It might take them a while to trust you completely, but they know you're trying. They don't hate you, Josh." He looks down at the drink in his hands. He's not even sure he can forgive himself, let alone his own friends. "How about this, you tell me what they've told you and I'll let you know the truth behind it, alright?"
"Okay," Josh agrees, never ceasing to admire Sam's talent to somehow turn a bad situation around. "Jess and Mike seem fine, not too mad or anything. Mike kept asking me what it was like down there, but I still don't remember anything. I'm not sure that I want to remember anything," he mutters. "How am I so far?"
"Not too shabby," Sam retorts, sipping her drink. "I think Mike just wants to understand what happened, it's how he deals with things. To put that night behind us, he needs understand it, understand how everything happened the way it did. It's sort of his process, I guess," she muses. "But yeah, he is relatively fine. You know Mike, hard as nails. It takes a lot to shake him."
"Sounds like you really know the guy," Josh teases, a slight amount of genuine jealousy in his voice.
Sam rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against his bandaged one gently. "Sounds like you're a bit jealous," she quips. "You know, Mike and I were alone down there quite-"
"Alright, alright," Josh cuts her off. "I don't need to hear your love story."
"Aw, come on. I'm just 'joshing' you." Even though he tries to resist, Josh cracks a smile. The movement still hurts his cheek, some days more than others. The doctors say it'll take some time before the nerves heal. It's possible that it might never recover fully. He had kept the scar covered when his other friends came over, aside from Chris, but with Sam he leaves the jagged suture line exposed, knowing that she doesn't mind the scarring.
Seeing the slight wince in his eye, Sam runs the tips of her finger along the scar line. Josh tenses at the touch, not used to having her hands on his face. He doesn't mind the gesture, in fact it's rather nice the feel of her skin on his. He glances at her for a moment, then drops his gaze as her fingers trail off of his face and back to around the cup in her hands.
"Jess seemed better, healed at least. Mike said she got hurt pretty bad on the mountain," he continues. "She kept hiding her face behind her hair, or at least it seemed like she was. Her face seemed okay to me, though."
"Yeah, one of the," Sam pauses, "wendigo's yanked her out of the window on the cabin door. The glass and being dragged through the snow cut her face up a little bit. It doesn't look that bad, they're slowly fading, but you know Jess. If her skin's not flawless then she's not happy. I think it helps that Mike doesn't mind, and that he's got some scarring of his own. Two missing fingers is a little more noticeable than some faint facial scars," Sam says with a breathy laugh. "What about Em and Matt, hmm?"
"Emily and Matt seem to still be fighting like nothing ever happened," Josh says with a chuckle. "I think that works for them, though. Arguing is sort of like their thing. It looks like Matt threw himself back into sports right away and Emily seems about the same, maybe slightly more on edge than her usual self. When she visited, she got a text from Jess which was interesting," he muses. "She didn't talk about that night at all, though. Matt did a little, he said he wasn't angry, but I'm not sure."
"You want gossip or feelings first?" Sam questions seriously.
"Uh, gossip?"
"So apparently Emily and Jessica are trying to be nicer to each other," she begins with the glint of a smile in her eye, tucking her legs underneath her. "They went for coffee the other day where they managed not to kill each other."
"That's, uh, that's interesting," Josh says with a laugh. "I feel sorry for Mike and Matt." Sam chuckles in agreement. "Alright, tell me the feelings."
"Believe it or not, Matt somehow got Emily to go to a psychiatrist. She was having trouble with some things, but I think you can tell it's helping," Sam tells him quietly. "She'd never admit she's going of course, but it helps with the episodes. She's not having them as much anymore, which is good. I can't image seeing…" Sam stops, as if realizing she's not just talking to a friend.
"Seeing what, Sam?" Josh questions, concerned.
"Oh, it's nothing. Just that stuff in the mines."
He can tell she's lying, considering she won't look him in the eyes. "I'm a big boy, Sam. Don't worry, I won't break." He grabs her hand before he knows what he's doing, but she doesn't yank it away. What's got her so upset?
"I know you don't want to talk about this. I don't want to ruin your memory of your sisters. I don't want you to see their funeral as anything other than beautiful, which it was. Hannah would've loved the butterflies everyone released. And Beth would've loved the style of it. I don't want to ruin that image for you."
"You're not going to ruin anything. Come on, get it off your chest." His heart does pang at the remembrance of the funeral they had for the twins last week. The police had found remains down in the mines, allowing his family to finally put his sisters to rest and find closure. Deep down he thinks he knew all along, but Sam is right, they would've loved their funeral.
"Emily, she… she found Beth's remains down in the mines," Sam tells him reluctantly. "Matt made her see a therapist because she was seeing her, uh," Sam pauses, debating something, "she just kept seeing her remains everywhere. That's how the rangers knew where to find her, because Em told them. I didn't want you to have to know about that."
She glances at him through a veil of long eyelashes, but he's not angry. He's not even really shocked. He knew that his sisters were down there, one dead and the other a monster. He already knew this information. He just feels bad that Emily had to find her, that she had to see that. If anyone should've found Beth, it should've been him.
"That's something you'd need some serious therapy after seeing," Josh says lightly, squeezing Sam's hand. She looks surprised at first, but eventually cracks a small smile. "Hey, there we go. A smile. Come on, Sam. You've got to lighten up, you know?" The blonde rolls her eyes.
"I should've known this wouldn't offend you. I mean, we all know you're heartless," she replies, smacking him on the good shoulder.
"Hey, that's not very nice," he muses playfully. "I meant laugh more, not direct your insults at me."
"Mm, sure," she replies. On a more serious note, she adds, "Alright, what about Chris and Ashley."
"Ashley seems okay. I kept apologizing for hitting her, but she said it was okay, that I wasn't myself. I don't know what came over me, why I did that. Why I did any of this." He sighs momentarily, then rubs the scar across his cheek.
"You weren't yourself," Sam replies, grabbing his hand away from his face. "I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner."
"It's not your fault, Sam." He doesn't want her to feel guilty. He's a good liar. Sometimes even he believed he was fine; he didn't make it easy for anyone to notice. He kept his psychiatric problems like a dirty secret, locking them deep inside him until they came bubbling up to the surface and wanting revenge. He didn't want help, didn't want any more doctors telling him that he was depressed. Only he wasn't. His new psychiatrist finally figured it out. The schizophrenia pills are working better than any of the other treatments he's had and for once, he finally feels like himself again.
"It's not your fault either, pornstar," she retorts. "Light enough, for you? And Ashley really is fine. She's a little traumatized and I don't think you'll ever get her near a mountain or mine again, but she's not dwelling on your behavior. The wendigos took all the focus away from you."
"What a relief," he mocks.
"Alright. What about Chris?"
"I don't… I don't know about Chris," Josh replies, the smile fading from his lips. "After everything I did to him, I don't know how he could ever forgive me. I made him choose between killing me and his girlfriend. I made him choose between killing himself and his girlfriend. I even punched his girlfriend." Josh shakes his head, not liking the memories that come flooding back. "I wouldn't forgive me for that, I can't expect him to."
"Chris knows you weren't yourself."
"Yeah, well, it was still shitty. It was still his best friend doing some really shitty stuff."
"It was shitty," Sam agrees. "But he's your best friend. You guys have known each other since the third grade. He's not as mad as you think, Josh."
"I know, but it's different. We're different. Our friendship, it's not like it was." He stares at his hands for a long moment. "I just want to go back to how we were, be best friends again. There's something about him now, like he doesn't trust me. I mean, I don't blame him. I wouldn't trust me either."
"I don't think it's a lack of trust," Sam muses. "I think he's worried you'll slip away. I don't know how we got you back, Josh, but we all know far too well how quickly we could lose each other. Maybe he's worried that one day we might lose you just as quickly as we did before. Maybe he's worried he still won't see the signs. I'm still worried I won't see the signs and I'm sorry about that, Josh. We spent so much time together and I never-"
"Sam," he stops her. "I didn't let anyone see the signs. Beth and Hannah were gone, you guys had no way of knowing it was more than grief. I didn't tell you, any of you."
"Josh, we hung out almost every day. We were so close," she argues. "I thought that we were both there for each other. I thought we were helping each other cope. I thought I was helping you, but I didn't see. God, I don't know how I missed-"
"Sam stop," he says firmly, looking her in the eyes. "Listen to me, okay? This was all me, this was all in my head. You didn't do anything, none of this is your fault. I didn't let you see the signs. I didn't let anyone see the signs. Stop beating yourself up about it, alright?"
"Alright," she agrees, although he can hear the reluctance in her voice. That girl is a stubborn one, not quick to easily abandon ideas.
"If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I pulled the prank, brought all of you up there on that mountain," he tells her. "I am sorry about that. I'm sorry that I," he closes his eyes in regret at the memory, "stole your clothes and chased you around the house. It was wrong. I don't know why I did that, why I would want to traumatize the people I care about."
"You weren't you," she says again firmly. "And besides, I managed to outrun your slow ass, remember? I'm really surprised that towel stayed on, though. You almost got a glance at the goods."
"Well damn," he replies with a lopsided grin.
"Oh shit," Sam says, glancing at his shoulder. "How long have you been bleeding?" He looks down to find that his bandage is tinged red. It's not the first time this has happened in the past week. The doctors say he's been trying to move around too much, irritating the wound. It doesn't hurt, not as much anyway. It's more of a nuisance than anything considering they keep insisting he get more rest.
"Oh, uh, I don't know. I got up and brought some boxes downstairs because they were just sitting on the landing earlier. They weren't that heavy or anything, though." Sam let's out a large sigh at his explanation, knowing full well that he's lying about the weight of the boxes. He has to admit, though, she is rather cute when she's irritated at him.
"You're an idiot," she says plainly, crossing the room and going into the bathroom. He hears her rummage loudly through the medicine cabinet and soon comes back with several bandages and sterile wipes. She pushes his shirt sleeve even further back and begins to unwrap the now reddened bandage. Tossing it to the side, she begins to rip up the sterile wipe.
"Woah, no. That stuff is painful," Josh protests, scooting away from her. She stares at him passively until he eventually grumbles and stays still, rising a smirk from her. He winces as the alcohol drenched wipe comes in contact with the healing remnants of the bullet hole, buts it's not so bad. She quickly bandages it up with some new gauze and he's good as new.
"There, all better," Sam announces, satisfied with her work. "Don't be lifting any more boxes, alright?" He nods reluctantly. "Does it hurt?"
"No, it's fine. Good job, Nurse Sam." Sam rolls her eyes at the comment and pulls his shirt sleeve back down, leaning her head toward his. She's close, close enough for him to smell the light scent of her shampoo. Close enough to kiss. And almost as if hearing the thought, she tenses slightly. She glances up at his face, blue eyes staring right into his.
Before he can contemplate whether or not to kiss her, Sam reaches up and presses her lips against his. Her lips are as soft as he imagined they'd be, but the feeling… he could've never imagined the warmth that comes flooding through with the kiss. The flutter he feels in his chest at that moment is the happiest feeling he's felt in a long time.
Josh reluctantly breaks the kiss, leaning back to look at the blonde haired girl in front of him. She smiles sort of sheepishly and his mouth stretches into a lopsided grin of its own. He brushes a stray stand of hair behind her ear, a kind of feeling he's never had before running like a train of pleasant electricity through his veins.
"So, uh, Sam?" he begins with a smile.
"Yes, Josh?"
"You, uh, you wanna go steady?"
Sam laughs. "You're an idiot Joshua Washington."
"Hey, I could be your idiot," he offers, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.
"With a proposition like that, how could I possibly refuse?"