WARNING: VERY DARK!!!

THANK-YOU shout-out to Jill Elsye for being the best reviewer ever!!! As well as Cameron Girl, Napa, Jules, Purpleglitter, Darth Pipes, Dulcey, Ravens Revenge, and Eller, you guys rock! Just wanted to say gracias :)

And OH! Dilemma! It's the anti-writer's block, ie: I have TOO MANY ideas…oy. I've been considering Jill Elsye's idea on the miscarriage, and even though it was not in the original plan I can totally see Nick and Lindsey getting married and keeping the baby…or at least, until birthday…or should it live? OY! I'm mean after everything it seems kinda anti-climatic to just have the abortion and that's it…then again subtle endings like that can be powerful. Hmmmmm…maybe multiple endings? But I don't really like that idea; the closure is too confusing. Sigh. Sam is so much easier, I have the exact plan for him and everything ends…well I won't tell. But the point here is, to abort or not to abort? That is the question.

And as for the time sequence, it starts out (at the clinic/the party) Thursday night, jump to Friday morning with Sam at school along with the freaks.

And I realize I'm stealing a few ideas from Dirty Dancing here, then again I already did that with a whole bunch of other shows so yea. Kudos to them. And as long as we're on the disclaiming here, nothing belongs to me (except plot)! It's all the creators, producers, directors, etc. of the show

~*~

Ch.7-Life is Like a Box of Chocolates…Except You're Missing the Guide on the Inside Cover

The dingy building reeked of blood and dirt. The gray walls sported splashes of puke-yellow; the carpet wasn't much better. Chipped plaster set the décor, along with hard wooden chairs that looked about as capable as Styrofoam cups of holding up a person's weight. The place was a disaster.

"This place is a disaster!" Lindsey hissed to Kim.

"What were you expecting, Buckingham Palace? Grow up."

"But it…it just doesn't look sanitary!"

Kim's sigh echoed through the tiny waiting room, "look, this is the only place that doesn't require parent's permission. You don't want your mom and dad to know, right?"

"Of course I don't! Confidentiality is important…but this is…disgusting." She grimaced as her hand waved through the air, indicating the disreputable surroundings.

"Well it's either this or the hanger…now come on."

"Was that a rat?"

"Come ON!"

"I'm coming, Jesus…" note subtle use of God/death-reference

~

A yawn resounded from the lost depths beneath a mound of covers. A head of messy hair peaked out from behind the blankets as a circuitous hand stretched for the lamp switch. Sitting up, Sam groggily rubbed his eyes. He pulled on his clothes slowly and trekked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I'm almost out of Star Wars toothpaste, he thought to himself, making a mental note to put it on his mom's To Buy list tacked onto the refrigerator by a banana-shaped magnet.

Sam steered towards the door, waved to his mom, grabbed a piece of toast, and headed off towards the bus stop whistling. Yet another day, only 27 more until the new edition of Kerplunk!

~

"Hey Daniel," Nick said lazily, scratching his ear.

"Oh, hey man…um, I guess you heard…" was his cryptic awkward response; he wasn't usually this fidgety.

"Heard what?"

"Oh man, I don't want to have to tell you this…"

"What? Just spill it, come on."

"Well…it's Lindsey…"

"What about her?"

"Sh-she and Kim went to the clinic yesterday man, you know, to get it all taken care of…but the thing is, the thing is the doctor was a crock, and, and…she's in the hospital man, I'm so sorry--"

Nick didn't even hear the trail end of Daniel's mumbled deliverance of bad news; he was already flying down the hallway and through the painted heavy school doors….

~

Sam got on the bus and looked around, vaguely noticing a complete and utter absence of noise. He glanced at the bus driver; was he a new, extremely strict, ex-military-officer who commanded silence? Nope, same old fifty-year-old deaf man. Everyone looked grave and depressed--what was going on?

He spotted Bill and took his seat, "what's going on?" The sudden noise reverberated off the bus walls, making the question seem ten times louder.

"Shhh," Bill whispered unnecessarily, Sam had already picked up on the atmosphere and realized his mistake. He asked again, this time quietly. "The party last night…it got out of hand. People were really drunk and stuff. They had to call the police, and ambulances."

"What? Is everyone all right?"

"Three people are dead."

"Oh my God…"

~

"Lindsey…Lindsey, can you hear me?" Nick asked tearfully, his cheeks wet with sorrow.

"Wh-what?" She whispered hoarsely. What was happening? Where was she?

A hoarse "Oh my God!" came out in sobs, followed by a reverent "you're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive idiot, why wouldn't I be?" She grinned weakly. Even after near-death experiences she could still (remarkably) retain her sense of humor.

"The doctor was crazy, he just went in with a sharp stick or something…you hemorrhaged…Kim was there, she called Daniel, and he told me, and-and I was so scared…" he had to stop babbling to let the tears flow, when they passed he looked up, where his precious angel was resting in the white-sheeted hospital bed.

Her eyes widened--no wonder everything beneath her waist felt like it was on fire. Christ. And poor Nick, he looked totally aghast, "shh, it's ok Nick, really, I'm ok."

He smiled weakly, "the good news? You're, um, no longer pregnant. The bad news…I know this is so not what you need right now…but your parents are here." He wisely left the room as she sighed and grimaced. Time for the big showdown. She could already predict the anger, and the yelling, and the…tears?

"Oh my god, Lindsey, OH MY GOD!" Her mother was even more hysterical than Nick! And was, was her father--crying? Silent tears were rolling down his cheek…"we're so glad you're alive, my baby," Jean Weir whispered; and Lindsey could feel the room fill with the most purest form of perfection--the never-ending, unconditional love a parent has for their child…no matter how many times and how bad they screw up, they will always, always find it in their hearts to forgive, and love again.

~

Sam stood behind the tall man in the 1930's bowler, staring at the piece of lint clinging to his tailcoats. He knew he should be listening to the words, letting them seep into his broken soul and absorb their weight and importance, but he couldn't. All he could do was watch the tiny piece of cotton lift up into the air with a small gust of wind. Memorized and dazed he felt the heaviness in the air, thick as concrete and just as painful. The words meant nothing to him. The minister driveled away and the assemblage of black-clad family members and friends murmured their amens and blessings and final good-byes. Methodically the white flowers were placed on the wooden lid, as the coffin was gently lowered down into the dust of the earth. Sam found he did not have the tears to cry, and he was sad.

Regret and sorrow filled his every being, but his silence forbade him from expressing his anguish. He could only imagine what her parents must be thinking and feeling, to have lost their only daughter when she was barely old enough to know what a first kiss was.

Eventually the procession shuffled away, heads bowed, hearts heavy, eyes stinging. The world went on, oblivious to the loss of a single little girl.

Right before the tail end of the cortege disappeared around the corner Sam leapt to his feet. His silence had strangled his soul and he was beyond logic and reason. Rushing to the front of the line he frantically began to speak, "You don't understand, any of you! Yea she died because of alcohol but why? Why did she drink? Because she thought that was what was expected of her, she thought, you all whispered about her behind her back! You betrayed her, and made her feel cheep and slutty and insignificant. What did she ever do to you, to any of you? What? WHAT?" Some uncles and older cousins had hastily hurried over and were vainly attempting to restrain him, but he ignored the flailing arms and scandalous stares. Harold Weir was about to join them but Lindsey lightly touched his shoulder. He understood her unspoken words--he needs to speak, let him--and lifted his chin a fraction higher. But suddenly Sam slumped, "but no, it was my fault too, all my fault, I let you think what you would, I liked the attention…I liked being accepted by you all, that's all anyone really wants, just to be accepted…that's all she wanted, that's all she ever really wanted…" His sobbing subsided to a hiccuping trickle, as the mourners watched with shocked expressions. And then he ran. As fast and as far as he humanly could, beyond the grass and the trees and the horizon and the pain…off where birds fly and pieces of lint linger, off into a hazy blur of Nothingness, where sleep could bring gentle peace.

When he awoke it was some time later, and the sun had come out from the gray clouds where it had been hiding all morning. Blinking he sat up, and saw Lindsey sitting on a tombstone above him. "Hey sleepyhead," she said softly.

"Hey." They were silent for a few minutes. Not the uncomfortable, awkward kind of silence, but the complacent, mellow silence that says more than any words ever could.

"Are mom and dad mad?" He finally asked, breaking the hushed stillness.

"Not really, they understand, or are at least trying to understand."

"Lemme guess, Dad is smugly saying 'I told you so! I told you that this happened to me when I was a teenager, and everybody DIED!'"

She laughed, "not quite, but I'm sure he'll grumble about it later."

More silence.

"Bill and Neal were really worried about you y'know. Bill said something about how sorry he was he didn't let you join a dungeons and dragons game? And for now on you can be a twentieth level character whenever you want. God knows what language you geeks are speaking." Sam smiled. "And Neal recommended a good psychologist. Apparently Dr. Paterson has done wonders for him, and he's already starting to 'love the simple things in life, like daffodils' again."

I guess this has kinda been a crazy time for all of us then?"

"Yea, well, that's what's growing up is all about kid. Now c'mon, let's go home."

~

Epilogue-Life Goes On

"I keep telling you, we're just really good friends."

"Riiiiiiiight, and that's why you're practically joined at the hip?"

"Yea, and look at you and Daniel!"

"Oh yea I know, the new and improved version of him is great. He's like, finally woken up, and is actually like, appreciating me, the bastard," Kim smiled affectionately. Things were back on track for the classic couple, and they were acting as if they had just first fallen in love. As for Lindsey and Nick…

"It's totally normal to have platonic relationships with guys you know," slight pause, "then again…"

"Then again? Boyfriends are even better?"

Nick was such a sweetie, and in light of the near-death experience their relationship had taken on a new and deeper meaning. "And we're more like…interested friends…"

"Hey whatever, sex is sex. Oo, let's go raid the Liquor store and get some slushies, I feel like strawberry."

Meanwhile:

"Ok, I'm gonna hurl a fireball at the dragon."

"Ooh, he takes 34 points of damage! That's gotta hurt."

"Hey Neal, pass the chips."

"Did I dodge his claws?"

"Yea, barely. You were lucky!"

"These are really good chips, where does your mom buy them? I want to tell my mom to buy them too."

"I dunno Bill, why don't you ask her? And oh, can I power your mace? I have an idea!"

Life was slowly returning to normal.

~*~

~*~Saphron~*~

Well, that's it, G&B is over. Finito. Done! What will I do with my time now? HmmMmm…(my keyboard is speaking to me: 'more fics' it's whispering…) Oy yes, well, I hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it and all that. Thanks always for ever being the loyal faithful readers/reviewers! Hope t'see y'all soon when I venture out on any new ficys, hehe. Anyhoozle. (I think I'm procrastinating on finishing this fic…) I'm seriously off now so cheerio…seriously…I'm leaving, cause the story is over, right, so yea. Leaving. Lalala. G'bye.