A/N: Next chapter. This one is a little intense, well, I thought so. The next few chapters are going to take a handsome twist, but we'll see how that goes. Let's do this!

High Tension: Who am I Really?

Chapter 11

Distance

Sam turned the knob for the hot water a little more, letting the falling drops form streams of water on her skin. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the shower, but she knew it was long enough to cause the entire room to fill with steam. She had never been one to like the heat, but this was soothing. For however long it had been, her mind was clear. Standing there, motionless, without a single thing except the rising temperature of the water on her mind, it was bliss. She wasn't thinking about Juan, or her mom, or her grandmother...not even Danny. All she felt was the patter of the water from the shower head on her skin and hair. That was all.

Slowly, she picked one foot off the tub floor, balanced for a moment, and then switched to the other, getting a feel for her body again. She stretched her arms above her head and turned her head this way and that. The blood in her veins began to circulate again. She hadn't even realized that her eyes had been closed the entire time. Sam leaned her back against the cold, tiled wall, feeling chills spread through her otherwise feverishly warm body. She grabbed a shampoo bottle from the wire shelf and poured a bit of the sweet, cinnamon scented gel onto her hand. She replaced the bottle on the black wires and worked the stuff through her hair. She barely had the energy to grab the body wash, but routine begged her to. A few minutes later, the suds had vanished down the drain and the water's soft lullaby remained only as a distant thought.

As soon as Sam had stepped out the stall and into her pajamas, the fog her mind had claimed over her thoughts as well as the mist covering the only mirror in the room had vanished. When she saw her empty eyes staring right back at her in the glass, the thoughts came crashing back, destroying whatever tranquility she had acquired from the warm water. She turned her head away, clutching the small towel around her neck firmly in her hands and walked out the door.

She passed by Juan's door again, not even aware that she had done so until she reached her own door. Pause. Slowly, her eyes began to lift off the ground, gravitating towards the half way open door next to hers. It had been closed when she came to grab her stuff. Before she realized it, the thudding of her heart had begun to fill her ears and the muscles in her chest began to tighten.

He was here.

He'd been here the whole time.

Without her having to make any effort, the door of her room opened slowly. She looked inside. Everything was jsut as she had left it the morning before, down to the strewn clothing on the floor.

"No one," she mumbled quietly, walking in and picking the clothes up. She had felt so disgusting, she hadn't bothered to put them in the hamper. She was actually considering just burning them before her parents got home, but they would have been able to smell the stench of burning fibers. She walked to the hamper, tossed the clothes inside, and pursed her lips, looking towards the wardrobe across from her, the place where she'd kept the dagger safely hidden for years. How had he found it?

"It's very unlady like," came a dark mutter. Sam froze. Somehow he had made his way to her bed. She swallowed, gathering every bit of courage left in her weakened body, and turned around, slowly.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting on her bed, arms crossed lazily over his chest, his eyes glued to the wardrobe just as hers had been moments before. "I was actually extremely surprised to have found it," he chuckled. Juan rested his gaze on her now. "To think just a well brought-up, young Manson would keep such a ghastly weapon in her room. You should have known one day someone would get hurt."

Sam's fingers curled and uncurled into fists. She didn't know she was biting down on her lip until her canine had pierced it, causing iron blood to swirl onto her tongue. She felt sick again.

"Why did you do it?" she murmured, bringing a hand up to her mouth and cutting eye cotact with him. She knew the answer, why did she have to ask? He was trying to show her that he meant what he said those few nights ago.

But to her surprise, Juan ignored the question, he didn't even speak. His silence was long enough for her to look back up at him. A look of worry crossed his face. At least, she could swear that's what it was. He stood up; she flinched backward. The sudden movement threw her off balance and she fell, landing in a way that should have hurt, but Juan caught her. She blinked, on one hand surprised at how quickly he had moved, on the other wondering if he was going to kill her. She looked at him, a distant pulsing from the wound in her mouth making her feel distorted. Juan brushed wet locks of hair from her face. She froze beneath his touch. His hands felt like ice against her warm skin, sending shivers through her body. She trembled. "You're bleeding," he said, voice gentle, a voice she was not used to hearing from his mouth. She reached for her lip subconsciously. A little bit of blood had colored her teeth and passed onto her bottom lip. She shook her head, trying to push herself out of his arms, but he held onto her tightly.

"It's nothing," she said, frantic now. Her heart began to beat faster and faster, the bruises on her arms began to ache with anticipation. "I'm okay, it doesn't hurt." What does he care anyway. Her brows furrowed, wrinkling her forehead as she continued to stare into his eyes. They looked distant, clouded, losing their mesmerizing ability by the second. "Are you sure?" he murmured, voice barely audible. Sam nodded.

This was so strange. Her eyes flitted around his face, trying to search for what it was that was different about him. There they were, in her room, the one she had lived in for so long, and there he was, dressed just as he had been that morning when she left for school, with the same hair cut, same face, but something was different. Her heart was still beating fast, but it wasn't fear, it was anxiety. The same kind of anxiety she sometimes felt when Danny was gone on patrol for too long without reporting back. She wasn't scared of him, she was scared for him. But why?

This was the same boy who had threatened to kill her family, her, and even his own. Why did she suddenly feel compelled to pull him into her arms and comfort him? She looked into those distant blue-green eyes again, wondering, searching...

Then it was gone.

A wretched smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her eyes widened and the fear was back, a weight on her chest. Her breathing picked up the pace as he lifted a hand to her face, cupping her chin between three fingers. And suddenly the vulnerable side of Juan Vick was replaced by the murderer that visited her at night. Her body tensed, but she couldn't move.

"Juan." The word escaped her lips before she knew she had even uttered it. Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over. The eyes were back. The energy drained from her body faster the longer she stared into them. Somehow, she couldn't find the srength to fight back as he hugged her a little closer and pulled in until their lips were pressed together.

Her eyes closed, allowing the tears to run down her cheeks.

No, no, please...

She felt the hand on her chin fall back to touch her hair, supporting her head as he parted from the kiss. She was sure the blood from her lip must have stained his own lips, but she didn't want to open her eyes. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered menacingly, "Your scent is intoxicating, what is that? Cinnamon?" She trembled, his warm breath feel moist against her skin.

She felt him nibble her ear for a second, before a floating feeling entered her body. He had lifted her up in his arms very easily, despite her being dead weight at the moment. He laid her down carefully onto the purple dressed bed and then climbed over her, trailing small kisses down her neck to the dip between her collarbones.

Sam's eyes were squeezed shut now. Every touch made her stomach flip and an uncontrollable urge to push him away run through her entire body, making her skin crawl. She clenched her teeth, afraid to speak, afraid to make him upset. He was being kind now. The times she had struggled, he had hurt her, causing the bruises on her arms. If she didn't struggle, he might stop on his own. He might leave her alone before he did any real damage. Before he stole anything more from her...

"Danny..."

Juan stopped. Sam's eyes snapped open and her heart turned to ice. Juan was staring at her, eyes narrowed, eyes crazy. They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity.

What? Did I say that? Why? Why would I say Danny's name at a time like this?

"Danny?" Juan asked. He'd heard that name somewhere before. But where? "Who's Danny?"

Sam pursed her lips. She shook her head, a silent refusal to speak. He narrowed his eyes further, pushing his face closer to hers. She tried to push him away, he grabbed her arms and held them tightly over her head. He asked again.

"Who's Danny?"

Then the door bell rang

E/N: I'm pretty sure we can all figure out what's going to happen next. But then again, maybe I'll surprise you? Hm.