Disclaimer: I do not own 'Complete Savages', nor do I own the characters, however given the rights of a fanfictionnaire I can willingly do whatever I want to them in my imagination… and onscreen (computer screen).

Chapter Two.

"Wake up sleepy head…"

Sam hears the voice but he doesn't want to obey it, so he responds with a small groan and refuses to open his eyes.

"Look… I'm so sorry about what happened yesterday… I woke up this morning and I felt so bad about it, we didn't want to hurt you like this, we just, wanted to give you a bit of your own medicine. It was a stupid thing to do son, and if I could take it back I would…"

Sam finally forces his eyes open and looks up at his dad. He is sitting on the edge of his bed, looking round at where he lies. Sam feels as though a great weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. 'Thank god he doesn't hate me' he thinks to himself. 'but wait, that doesn't make up for what he did to me… don't be such a baby…'

"Thanks dad…" he says, not sure of how to handle the situation.

"But that doesn't mean it was okay for you to hurt your brother like that, you know that right?"

Sam nods. "I didn't mean to, its just… oh god dad, Angela broke up with me…and I was so upset and then the whole thing with the plane, and he wouldn't apologise, and so I got upset…"

"And you hit him… because he wouldn't apologise?"

"No." Sam argues meekly shaking his head. "I hit him because he was treating me horribly, because he pushed me, and tried to bully me…"

"Oh not this Sam…"

"What?" he asks bewildered.

"Kyle's already told us about your little plan to turn things round on him, make him out to be a bully, when we know all this has been going on for weeks now. I really didn't believe it because I expected more from you, Sam Savage, such a nice kid, well now I see I was wrong."

"But dad…" Sam pleads.

"'But dad' nothing. I won't listen to you trying to turn me on your brother anymore…" Nick said rising from the bed. "Make yourself useful and go get us some milk from the store…"

"But dad, I didn't… my legs ache so mu…" he tries again.

"What did I say about the 'but dad's'?"

"Nothing." Sam replies timidly.

"No, I told you 'no more 'but dad''. Didn't I? Hey!" Nick responds agitatedly.

Getting the wrong end of the stick, he drags Sam to his feet and pushes him towards the bedroom doorway, and losing his balance Sam falls to the floor.

"I meant that dad… you, you… you said 'But dad, nothing' remember?" Sam stumbles on his words, his voice somewhat squeaking because of the lump forming in his throat. He knows his dad hadn't meant for him to end up on the floor, but he still feels an scarily empty feeling form in the pit of his stomach.

Nick shakes his head, and then answers. "Well I'm sorry then. Now c'mon get yourself up and down to the shops for that milk, and you can start cleaning up the mess you started weeks ago with Kyle."

With that Nick leaves, stepping over Sam, who still sat with his back to the wall, sighs as he is left alone once more. He really misses Angela; she'd been the only person in his life he could talk to… Everyone else either didn't care, or were forced to care. It seems to him that it's just that they don't care now. He lets go of the depressing thoughts that invade his mind and lifts himself from the ground. His legs ache painfully with each step, and the side of his face throbs, as well as the major headache he had first groaned because of. He doesn't even want to think about what he'd 'supposedly' done to Kyle.

He begins to undress slowly, letting his sore muscles loosen. He'd just pulled on a pair of clean jeans and was about to pull his shirt on when he feels eyes burning into his back. He turns quickly, which didn't do much for his headache and the world seems to blur and spin for a moment.

"We know about Kyle…"

Sam sighs. Why does Kyle suddenly have it in for him so much? When the images in front of him become clearer he soon finds it's Chris standing in front of him.

"Dude how could you do that to him, he's your brother man?"

"I lost control… I didn't mean to…" Sam begins.

"So its true, its all true." Chris says, disbelief in his voice.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Sam asks, confused by his reaction.

Chris had hit Kyle many times, and vice versa, why should they all be so shocked at this one time Sam hits him? Oh that's right, it's okay for them, but Sam isn't part of they're group.

"This isn't fair, why are you guys treating me so badly for something I've seen you do many times before?"

"We've never done what you've done man" he pauses for a second, "never."

"You liars…you've done it so many times, and you do it like its for some kind of entertainment… oh you know what, just, just go away. Leave me alone."

"You're sick. I can't believe dad's just letting you get away with this…" Chris begins.

"Did you not here me?" Sam says, getting frustrated and confused. "Leave me alone…"

He is interrupted by a punch to the face. "That's for Kyle man, and you better stay out of our way… none of us want you here, you're dirt, dirt." Chris spits, almost shouting.

Stabilising himself against a pair of drawers, Sam can feel the lump in his throat rising once more. Chris leaves, and Sam tries to steady his breathing, and keep himself from crying again. He's just so confused and scared at the same time. Nothing makes sense – it's like he'd woken up in some kind of hell.

His face aches further, and he lets his arms drop to his sides thinking for a moment. He doesn't even want to go outside, let alone go to the shops. The thought of running into Angela is too painful. But he finishes dressing himself and makes his way downstairs nonetheless.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Dad says as he approaches the front door.

"I had to redress" he replies, and then he opens and closes the door behind him.

It's cold out, only a month to go 'til Christmas, which just depresses him even more because he realises this isn't going to be the best of Christmases if Kyle keeps up this torture of him.

When he reaches the shop, the queue of customers stare as he passes by them, his beaten appearance comes to quite a shock to these quiet folk, who come by every Saturday morning to get their usual supermarket goods. He walks down the aisles aimlessly until he comes to find the milk he'd been asked to buy. He picks up the carton and holds it in his hands for a few seconds, staring at it like he's waiting for something, when really he just can't get his head around what's going on in his life so he ends up just, staring and confused, and all sorts of shit he never thought he could feel.

"You alright honey?"

Sam looks up and turns to the source of the voice. The woman to the side of him smiles, and repeats her question softly.

"Are you alright?"

Sam nods; though it is very evident he is lying. The woman forces another smile sincerely, and comments: "Aren't you cold out there with just that on, its real cold out there." She sounds like she's from Kansas.

Sam smiles too. The woman has long dark hair and though she has dark eyes they were probably the kindest eyes he'd seen in a long time. He needs that, for someone to be kind to him, even if just for a few moments. She looks mixed race, a light tone to her skin, somewhat in her late forties and he notices her fingernails are all bitten down and bleedy looking, but he just smiled at it. He has a habit of doing that a lot lately too.

"Well, I'll leave you to get on with your shopping" She carries on walking down the aisle in the opposite direction.

"Thanks" Sam calls after her, and she turns and waves at him somewhat before turning out of his sight.

His smile didn't really fade until he stepped outside – back into the cold, and the remembrance of his experiences from earlier that day. He can't help the morbid expression that suddenly takes over his face, and the hollow emptiness that begins to ache in his chest… and then the oddest thing happens; it begins to snow. Only tiny clods, which will probably linger in the air, and not have enough time to create a layer upon the ground, but still, it's… different.

When Sam reaches his house, he knocks on the door having forgotten his keys. At first no one answers, and he begins to knock again, but after another 10 seconds or so the door swings open. It's Kyle.

"Oh. Its YOU." He states. "Dad said you better start looking for another place to live or else you'll be on the streets…"

"What!" Sam says in shock.

"Ha" Kyle sniggers, "You fell for it."

Sam rolls his eyes and then walks into the house, trying to shake off the feeling of utter sickness and fear rolled into one. Kyle takes the milk and goes into the kitchen. Sam stands outside the door, resting against the wall.

"Sam told me to bring you the milk…"

Sam's ears prick up. 'No I didn't.'

"What's wrong Kyle? You look upset."

'Huh?'

"It's nothing…"

"Kyle?" dad repeats.

"I, I went after Sam to the supermarket" he begins, "Sam… he said its all my fault he's being treated badly, that he should kill me for what I've done. I said I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset him…" Kyle is actually pretty good at putting on the water works.

'Unbelievable' Sam thinks to himself. How can they buy into this?

"SAM!" he hears his name being yelled and appears in the kitchen doorway.

Not again.

"Come here Sam." Nick says, anger evident in his voice.

He hesitates, shaking his head and then he turns into the kitchen. Uncle Jimmy is there too; he has this disapproving look on his face… 'Oh no… they've got uncle Jimmy as well' Sam thinks to himself. Nick stands and heads in his direction – he sinks in against the wall afraid and slides to the ground.

"I, I never did anything" he says, "He's lying, he didn't come anywhere near the supermarket, I forgot my keys. He, he opened the door for me just now…" his voice begins to tremble. "Please, believe me…why wont anyone listen to me?"

Uncle Jimmy has an unsure look on his face, as though he doesn't know what to do.

"I knew he'd do all this again – I thought no one would believe me because of it… he's so good at lying…" Kyle says as false tears spring to his eyes. 'How did he get so good at acting?'

Nick grabs the collar of Sam's shirt. "That bull wont work with me son."

"What b… bull, it works for Kyle and I'm the one telling the tru…" his words are stopped by a smack to the face and yet it wasn't from dad, it was from uncle Jimmy.

"You totally abused your brothers trust Sam, I don't think your father even wants you in his house." He says, a blank, somewhat disturbed look plastered all over his once confused face.

Sam let's loose the tears he's been holding back. He has no clue what they are all talking about, and they just won't listen to him, so he positions himself on the floor once more, and putting his head in his arms he cries. It's now around lunchtime, and his stomach rumbles ferociously. He can't even remember the last thing he'd eaten, maybe it was a waffle for breakfast the day before, however he is too dizzy and upset to concentrate on such trivial a memory.

He hears the shuffling of feet, but still does not glance up. Then as the last of the mix of feet pass by him, he feels his body tremble with hits, one from each perpetrator. He doesn't know who it is, but he doesn't dare look up. Sometimes he wishes he wasn't such a wimp, that he could just bring himself to stand against them all. He can't see Kyle's face but he can bet his life on it that he is enjoying every moment of this.

He sniffs from within his shell, and stops his pitiful crying. Doesn't anyone in his family trust him? Doesn't anyone doubt whatever ridiculous story Kyle has come up with… 'Why? Why? Why?' It's all he can think about, and it just makes his head hurt even more.

Suddenly he is taken over by such a rage, and yet he thinks to act on that rage may just cause his family to doubt him even more and to conclude that Kyle is right. So he tries not to scream profanities or kick out, but instead he lets his fist collide with the floor, his knuckles cracking in the process. He cries out in his mind that damn word again, but in reality the sound he makes comes out more like a moan. Crawling to the nearest chair, he parks himself in its seat and leans his head against the wall, a torn expression in his reddened eyes.

So here we are again, another night, another chapter. You like? Dislike? Well I know its a lil melodramaticised... ah well, trials and very painful tribulations of life...