A/N: Okay, just so we're clear, this is one of the last 'episodes' I do before I end this story to get started on the sequel. After this chapter, it sort of goes into a time warp, so it will be TW: then the chapter name. It'll be an AU on the shooting, what would have happened if Jessica and Samantha had both survived the shooting or they came to Lima for something else.
Also, the song she sings in this chapter is called "I Will Not Say Goodbye" and it's by the amazing Danny Gokey. The video makes me cry every single time and it's really hard to make me cry. It's not for the faint of heart.
COCO: I've been wanting to do that bit, too, don't worry!
Ali: Thanks!
Hillary: I know, I love them, too
Tia: Why, thank you c:
If ever your day is done you still feel you need someone to hold you
I will
If you ever need talk to somebody who really knows you
Yes, I will
Jimmy Wayne — I Will
Sam spotted Santana at her locker and strolled toward her. "Oh, we're going to have a little chat, Santana," she told her, pulling her into aside to an empty corner.
"What do you want, midget? You're not stealing my nonexistent pot of gold," the Latina quipped.
"No, but Brittany told me this fascinating little tale yesterday. You see, I invited her over to hang out and watch movies. She thought I meant inviting her over to hook up. Imagine my surprise when she said that was what she and Santana always did," Sam stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyebrow quirked. "She then proceeded to tell me that you two fool around all the time and that she had hooked up with everyone that was anyone at the school and I was the only one she didn't."
"Brittany thinks there's a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and tells stories of a unicorn that mows her lawn. You think I'm a lesbian?" Santana sneered. "You think you can put a label on me?"
"Chillax, I haven't said anything and you know I wouldn't dare put a label on anyone. Whereas, I should, granted how awful you've been to me lately and I'm just that vindictive. However, I want you to know that I know about you and her," Sam said.
"What's that going to solve?" Santana asked.
"The fact that even though we jump at each other's throats, your secret's safe with me. Even though you've been nothing short of a bitch to me, I have your back. If you want to talk about it to anyone, I'm there to listen," Sam replied.
"I don't even know if I am, okay? I just like to fool around. You of all people should understand that," Santana told her.
"We've been best bitches since the summer of eighth grade. I'm here for you," Sam assured her. "You're gonna let this get you down? I mean, come on, we're Samtana, aren't we?" Santana smiled at the use of their 'pairing' name.
"Yeah, we are. Samtana Pezvine," she replied. She hooked pinkies before giving her a high-five.
"Am I the only one who wants to seriously punch him in the face right now?" Sam asked as she spotted Karofsky standing in front of the class.
"Santana made me realize how badly I behaved towards you all. Especially Kurt," he replied. She sat back in her seat, her eyes wide in shock. "I've agreed to go to Dalton and apologize to him so that we can get the Bully Whips started."
"How badly you behaved? You threatened to kill Kurt, I'd say that behavior is awful!" she snarled.
"But we're going to create a bullying-free environment. It's not only going to save Kurt, but the Glee Club, too," Santana pointed out.
"Santana showed me all of these articles of kids who killed themselves because they were bullied so bad. I didn't like who I became, so I decided to change it," Karofsky replied. "And along the way, something funny happened..."
Santana joined hands with him and Sam groaned.
"Oh, God, please tell me you became hippies," she stated. She glanced over at Finn, her lip curling in disgust.
"You're dating Frankenteen, you can't say shit," Santana retorted.
"I can say shit. Finn's a sweet guy. Karofsky makes me want to punch him in the face and curse eight more generations of his descendants with extremely bad luck. When they trip over something that's not there, it's gonna be me," Sam replied.
"Everything's legit, Thing 1. I hope you of all people can accept my apology. I preyed on your insecurities and exploited them for my own amusement," Karofsky told her. Sam shook her head.
"Is this the freaking Twilight Zone?" she muttered. She looked up at Finn again and he shrugged. She slapped his arm with a frown. "Speak up, Kurt's your brother."
"I'm with Sam on this. Until I see a definite improvement, I don't think we can forgive him just yet," Finn agreed slowly.
Sam stared the shirts on her bed, pictures of words spread across the chest of them. Rachel's said 'NOSE,' Mercedes' said 'NO WEAVE.'
"What do you think, Kurt?" she asked. If there was one thing she wanted to change about herself, it was definitely her freckles. 'FRECKLES' was written across one. 'LEPRECHAUN' was written across the other.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't change any of those things. What about your PTSD?" Kurt suggested. Sam faced him with narrowed eyes, gritting her teeth. "Or not."
"I. Don't. Have. P. T. S. D," she informed him coldly. Admitting she had a problem was the last thing on her mind.
"You know you do, Sam. You jump when you hear a locker slam, a car door, and you get freaked when you go into Science or Homeroom. When Rachel had that sleepover a few weeks back, you were crying in your sleep. You don't have to put it on your shirt, but for the betterment of your peace of mind, you should at least admit it," he assured her.
"It's been almost a year," she whispered. Her gaze lifted to stare at the picture of herself and her sister on her wall, dressed in their navy, black, and white cheerleading uniforms. "Everyone's getting ready for prom and Nationals and all I'm doing is sitting here, thinking about everything she's missing out on."
"No one can imagine what you went through that day, Sam. This lesson is about accepting something that you want to change about yourself, something you can't," he said. "For you, you think it's something silly like your hair or your freckles or some mean name that people call you."
"If I face up to having it, it makes it real. I'm not ready for that sort of announcement," she told him. Hot tears burned her eyes and she rested her head against her knees. "All I can think about is how different my life would be if Jessica didn't die."
"Well, everyone at Glee would love to help you out if you told them what was going on. They're not mind readers," Kurt pointed out.
"And tell them what, Kurt? There are times when I want to punch people in the face when they go on and on about their problems like a pimple that popped up on picture day? Every time someone says something in their life is hard, like not getting something they wanted, it takes every ounce of my self-control to not go off on them and show them what real pain is," Sam exploded. "What was it that I did that was so bad that made my sister go away? What did I do to take away my only friend? She was supposed to be the friend that couldn't leave me."
"The anniversary is coming up and you don't want to deal with it because you're scared you're going to lose her memory. It's not fair what happened to you and your twin sister, but don't think it was anything you did," Kurt soothed.
Kurt had come back to McKinley after Karofsky had apologized to him. Sam was grateful to have her friend back. She tucked a lock of her ruby hair behind her ear as she fiddled with the pull on her black hoodie. Underneath, she had finally put the thing she wanted to change most about herself but couldn't.
"Mr. Schuester, I couldn't find a song for this week's assignment, but I wanted to say something. Kurt's been helping me with telling people about my sister because it sort of ties into my assignment indirectly," Sam requested as she got down from her seat. Mr. Schue gestured to the front of the room and Sam looked at the pianist to start.
Sometimes the road just ends
It changes everything you've been
And all that's left to be is empty, broken
Lonely, hoping
I'm supposed to be strong
I'm supposed to find a way to carry on
I don't wanna feel better
I don't wanna not remember
I will always see your face
In the shadows of this haunted place
I will laugh, I will cry, shake my fist at the sky
But I will not say goodbye
It was the song that Jesse had sung at Jessica's funeral and Sam had cried without fail every time she had either listened to it or sang it. Hot tears trickled down her face as she forced herself to sing.
They keep saying time will heal
But the pain just gets more real
The sun comes up each day
Finds me waiting, fading, hating, praying
If I could keep on holding on
Maybe I could keep my heart
From knowing that you're gone
I don't wanna feel better
I don't wanna not remember
I will always see your face
In the shadows of this haunted place
I will laugh, I will cry, shake my fist at the sky
But I will not say goodbye
Ooh
I will curse, I will pray, I will relive every day
I will shoulder the blame, I will shout out your name
I will laugh, I will cry, shake my fist at the sky
But I will not say, will not say goodbye
I will not say goodbye, will not say
"Okay, and how does this tie into the lesson?" Mr. Schue asked. Sam composed herself quickly before unzipping her hoodie to show her white T-shirt.
Printed across the front was the word 'PTSD.'
"PTSD stands for 'post-traumatic stress disorder.' I still struggle with what happened to my sister because we were so close and with sounds that remind me of the shooting, like locker doors slamming, or cars backfiring. And Science and Homeroom. Actually, Kurt helped me prepare this number and put this on my shirt, so he gets an ass-load of credit," she replied. "It's really hard for me to admit that I have a mental problem like this, so I'm kinda emotional about it." She chuckled harshly at the end of her sentence, wiping more tears out of her eyes.
"That takes guts to admit, Thing 1. Let's give her a round of applause," Mr. Schue said, clapping his hands. Sam wiped her eyes again with the sleeve of her hoodie.
She felt herself being yanked into hugs all over the place and she laughed as she returned them.
"You get all the credit. There's no way I would've admitted a problem like that," Kurt told her. Sam wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Thank you, Kurt," she murmured.
"Let's get out of this angst-fest. Sammie over there was the last one of us to sing a song. Let's go do Lady Gaga so we can get the slushies over with," Jana said. Orion held out his hand and she slapped it.
"I didn't know you had PTSD," Finn commented as they sat on the hood on his truck. Sam looked over at him and nodded, nestling closer to him. Star-gazing was one of their favorite things to do. The late March night air stung at her cheeks and she stared at the sky.
"Yeah, I do. Tomorrow marks one year," she replied. She took a deep breath as she tore off a bite of her beef jerky. "One year since the shooting, one year since my sister died..."
"And you get to put the guy in prison for it," Finn said, kissing her temple. "You've got more balls than anyone I know."
"And it keeps getting better," Sam responded. "You know, if you want help with your dancing, I don't mind helping you. I can't turn you into Fred Astaire, but I can turn you from clumsy to coordinated, probably."
"I don't know who that is," he admitted. "And besides, I'm very insecure about my dancing."
"You had the balls to admit it on a T-shirt," she pointed out. "Do you think Karofsky seriously means his apology to us? I didn't really buy it."
"Well, it got us Kurt. If it gets us that, then I'm not gonna look a pony in the eye or something," he responded.
"You mean, you're not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth?"
"Yeah, that."