Disclaimer: So I still don't own WaT nor the characters, but the plot is all my own!

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Warning for language content.

Short chapter alert!! But you wanted to know what Sam was up to—right??

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CHAPTER 8 – Meanwhile

17.5 hours missing (A.N. - yep, back in time. You know the line, "Meanwhile, on the other side of the jungle…")

Samantha had lost feeling in her arms several hours ago. From her perspective, the only things holding her to the blasted wheel and upright was the rope around her chest and the small platform her heels rested on. She vaguely remembered the ropes at her wrists, but all memory of that sensation left sometime after he made her talk about Martin.

She sighed quietly. Patrick – he had forced her to give voice to all the feelings Samantha thought she had so carefully hidden from the rest of the world. No doubt the rest of the team had seen the tape as well, so her secret was well and truly out. Sam had caught Martin staring at her again lately. Could he have hidden his feelings as well? There was only one way to find out—she had to get off this damn wheel. She reviewed the day's events slowly, looking for anything that might help her cause.

Not once did she ever see his face in her garage all those hours ago and he had never removed the blindfold. When he pushed her into the small bathroom and forced her to change, he made sure she put the blindfold back on before he opened the door. So she couldn't identify his face in open court. Positive voice identification could too easily be argued since all she ever heard was a whisper. He'd never be convicted of this crime. Having figured that all out, Samantha decided to plead her case.

"Hey!" she called out. "Are you there?"

"What do you want?" the harsh whisper came from her left.

"Haven't you had enough? I know I have. Untie me from this thing and let me go. I don't know what you look like, and you've never used anything but a whisper, so I can't even identify your voice. What do you say?" It did sound a bit like begging, but Samantha didn't know how much longer she could maintain her composure.

The voice came from the right this time, "I say 'no.' I'm not done with Fitzgerald, so I'm not done with you."

"But what about that tape we made? Wasn't that enough? I haven't told Martin I love him in so long, that has got to be haunting him. He's suffering; I know he is! Isn't that enough?" Samantha knew she was really begging this time, but couldn't stop herself. "I mean, isn't Martin's mental anguish giving you a laugh? Isn't the fact that you've got him running through his entire life to find you enough? What about Leo—"

"What about you stop your bitchin'? No, you won't stop; will you?" the voice sighed and came closer.

Samantha heard him step up and felt his hand force open her mouth. She felt cloth against her tongue.

"There, now you don't have to wear me out with your whining," he tightened the cloth a bit more. "Just be glad I used my clean handkerchief."