I fidgeted, running my hands across the arms of the loveseat. It was Monday, and Leslie and I were leaving early tomorrow morning. I should be doing some last minute packing, as I was notoriously slow when it came to getting ready for things. Instead, I wasn't even home. I was at FentonWorks, sitting on their loveseat beside Danny. My parents were sitting on the couch, while Jack and Maddie were in armchairs. Jazz was in her wheelchair.

We were here to talk about the imprisonment. Everyone involved wanted the full story. Though Mother and Dad had tried to avoid talking about it, whether because they didn't want to face the reality or they didn't want me to face the reality, I'm not sure. Still, we were gathered today to hear what Danny and I had to say about our imprisonment.

I was just nervous about seeing him again. I knew that he and I had our stories straight, and that I could tell the simplistic lies without thinking about it. The most stressful part of today had simply been walking through the front door and seeing Danny standing on the other side of it. He'd said 'hi' to me, and then nothing else. His silence unnerved me, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I'd made my decision and I had to stick to it. Distance was better; I knew it was.

Jack cleared his throat. "We asked you over today so we could discuss the details of what happened to Sam and Danny. I don't know about Sam, but Danny's been very reluctant to talk about it. I don't want to make either of you uncomfortable, but I think we all need answers."

I bit my lip and, before anyone else could say anything, I said, "I know you've all heard the basic stories, right?"

Everyone around me nodded.

"So, maybe it would be best if you just asked questions?"

"I like that idea," Mother murmured. "All right. Jack and Maddie, if you would go first?"

"What," Maddie started, "Were the two of you doing, exactly, when you were kidnapped?"

And so it began, an agonizing question and answer period. Nothing we said was the truth. We pretended as if we both didn't know who had captured us, or where we had been contained. As for our injuries, we said they had happened while we were sleeping; that someone must have crept into our rooms late at night and that whoever had kidnapped us had liked to mock us, telling us that Jazz and Tucker had died. Danny and I answered questions about what had happened to us, there were tear tracks on our mothers' cheeks, and our fathers' eyes welled with tears that they tried not to shed.

I glanced at Jazz, and saw something undefinable on her face; something that told me that she knew the true story of what had happened. She caught my gaze and nodded sadly, trying to give me a smile to lift my spirits. I tried to smile back at her, though it failed. Thinking of the cell made me feel tingly and pained all over.

"That's enough for today, I think," Dad finally said.

"I agree," Maddie said nodding. "Thank you for coming over, Sam, Mr. and Mrs. Manson."

"Thank you for having us," Mother replied.

Without much more ado, we left FentonWorks. As I got into the backseat of the car, something prompted me to turn around and look back at the door. Danny was standing at the window, watching me leave. I stared at him as we drove away, reminding me of another January night when I left him behind, carrying a completely different kind of heartbreak within myself.

(-.-)

I shifted my legs underneath of myself and glanced out the plane window again. The flight to Mexico wasn't nearly as long as I thought it might have been, which I was thankful for. That, however, didn't stop me from becoming restless on the flight. I'd been lucky enough to get a seat next to Leslie and Gavin; the youngest of which was fast asleep.

"Can we talk about Danny?" Leslie asked, voice low so she didn't disturb Gavin.

"Sure … Why?" I responded.

"Well, when we were talking about him with Tara, she was very adamant about how you should feel about him, and I was just wondering how you actually felt."

I bit my lip. "Tara's right. Danny's done awful things. He's done awful things to me. I can't forget that. I can't forgive it."

Leslie cocked her head to the side, and then she looked down at Gavin, snoozing in her lap. She touched his golden hair softly before she looked back up at me. "You have an amazing capacity for forgiveness, Sam."

"What?"

"You are an extraordinary person. You forgave me after everything that I did to you and, let's face facts, I drove you to do something awful. If there was someone you shouldn't have ever considered forgiving, it would be me."

"Leslie –"

"I'm not done." She interrupted me. "Personally, I think that you should speak with him again."

"But why?" I questioned.

"For yourself, if nothing else. You deserve the peace that forgiveness brings, and you definitely deserve closure, which I don't think you have with him yet. You'd get that through speaking with him, and closure is a thing you need."

"I can find closure on my own," I argued. "I don't need to talk to him."

"Closure isn't that easy," Leslie sighed, gently touching Gavin again. "When I found out that I was pregnant, I was still only sixteen. Rocky was seventeen, not that it makes a huge difference. He, uh, he didn't want a kid. I mean, it's not like Gavin was planned or anything. I was sixteen; what the hell was I going to do with a baby? Rocky wanted me to get an abortion, and I thought about it. But I finally decided that it wasn't the right choice for me, that I wanted to keep him. When I told Rocky that, he flat out told me that I was making the wrong decision and that he didn't want anything to do with me. He accused me of sleeping around on him, of getting pregnant by someone else."

Leslie paused, but then picked up again.

"None of it was true, of course. I was faithful to him and, though this shocks people now, he was faithful to me too. Pregnancy has a way of scaring people, particularly when they're young. Everyday Gavin makes me grow up faster than I should have, but I don't regret my decision. I don't resent Gavin for making me grow up, for making university wait. I still resent Rocky. He abandoned me. He's never seen Gavin and neither have his parents. It still breaks my heart, because Gav didn't ask for his dad to walk out; he never asked for teen parents. Look, the point is, the last time I saw Rocky is when I told him that I was keeping the baby and that he couldn't change my mind. Rocky cursed at me and accused me of being a slut. When he dropped me off at my house, I told him that we needed to talk more, and he said 'absolutely'. But I never heard from him again."

Her voice had become heated with anger and she had to stop herself and take a few calming breaths. I sat there, stunned into silence while Leslie collected herself. I had never heard her really speak about Rocky. I knew he was Gavin's father, and I knew he wasn't around, but beyond that, Leslie had never offered any details about him. I hadn't asked, because I knew how it felt to be hurt so much that you couldn't express to anyone else the depth of your pain. I hadn't wanted to prod wounds that may have closed, though I knew now that they were still wide open.

"I would give a hell of a lot to see him," Leslie confessed. "If he was ever in front of me again, I would chain him there, until I said all that I had to say. I would keep him pinned until I knew the in and out of every step he'd taken and why he'd done it. The painful part of him not being in Gavin's life, as far as I'm concerned, is not knowing why. I have all of these questions floating around in my head, of why he doesn't even care that he has flesh and blood out there. He should be in Gavin's life – Gavin deserves to know his dad, but I can also recognize that if he's not willing to give a part of himself to Gavin, beyond his sperm, then he doesn't deserve to know him, not really."

She smiled at me, although I could see how hard she had to try to put the expression on her face.

"Sorry to subject you to that messed up rant. I'm not trying to tell you what to do, and you certainly don't have talk to him if you don't want to, but I think you should recognize the opportunity you have here. If you have any questions left for him at all, you should ask, because then you'll get peace. You deserve peace," she repeated, ending her speech.

"Wow," I gasped, not sure what else I could say. "I had no idea."

She shrugged. "It's one of the many things you have to deal with, being a teenaged single mom. But it's not about me; not anymore. It's all about Gavin. Keeping him definitely wasn't the easiest path, but it was the one that I needed to take, and I wouldn't give it up, not for a hundred years more with Rocky."

"That's sweet," I managed, feeling overwhelmed with the emotion that her story brought on.

"Don't look so sad," Leslie exclaimed, looking at me and then breaking out into a shaky laugh. "Honey, we're almost in Mexico, and we are going to party it up when I'm not sucked into wedding BS."

"I can get behind that," I laughed.

The two of us quieted. There was still another hour left of the flight, so I tried to make myself comfortable in my seat, thinking that a quick nap might be just what I needed. Unfortunately, in the aftermath of Leslie's story, my mind was spinning at hundreds of miles an hour.

She and Tara clearly stood on two opposite sides of the Danny issue, although I think Leslie was able to see it more clearly. Though neither of them were aware of my exact history with him, Tara was blinded by how much of a bully he had been, while Leslie was able to view the situation without bias. But, then again, how could I turn a blind eye to the bully aspect of him that blinded Tara? That person did have to live inside of him somewhere … Didn't it?

"You have an amazing capacity for forgiveness, Sam."

But maybe Leslie was right. Maybe I should forgive him, because that's what I deserved. Perhaps I had gotten too wrapped up in Danny and his influences; perhaps I had to focus on what would put me in the best position. And Leslie had made a very compelling case. I had forgiven her, and had gotten one of my very best friends out of that decision. She was living proof that people could change; could become better than the person they once were. The Leslie sitting beside me now was not the same person who had mercilessly tormented me during my early teenage years. I loved and cared for the Leslie sitting next to me now, as she loved and cared for me.

Tara's argument for staying away from Danny was slipping further and further from my mind. I knew that I should still be cautious of Danny, in case he really hadn't changed at all, but I had long since acknowledged my doubts that he was the same person who had dated Paullina all those months ago. Maybe I should talk to him, because Leslie was right: I still had questions for him.

Maybe …

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever Sky.

~TLL~