Sam ideas

"So House was right and you did it again," Nyx sighed making Sam sit up in her bed and stare at her in incomprehension.

"What? Who? Where?" Sam didn't even know quite what her question was.

"You left out How and Why," Nyx observed. "Hi there, I'm Nyx and this is your dream. Or possibly your worst nightmare."

"You don't even know my worst nightmares," Sam muttered – sort of adjusting to the idea that she was still asleep and this was just one of the weird dreams she occasionally had after overeating. Though she did rather think she hadn't eaten anything this time.

"You'd be surprised," Nyx stated. "The one thing you fear most is facing yourself and that's what I'm here to do. Too bad you probably won't remember a thing about this when you wake up."

"Look, you can't just come into my dreams and start accusing me of whatever," Sam huffed. "I didn't ask you here and frankly, I don't see any reason why I ought to care a darn about your opinions so you can just keep them to yourself and stop attacking me."

"And you can stop thinking you can dictate to me - even in your dreams," Nyx snapped back. "I don't care about your opinions either, you see."

"Just leave me alone!" Sam yelled.

"Sorry, I'm not Wilson and therefore you can't just order me about," Nyx smirked. "And since this is your dream, you can't just walk out the way you like to do."

"I can wake up," Sam insisted.

"Go right ahead," Nyx invited and waited …. "Nope, not as easy to do at will as you expected, is it?"

"Fine, so how do I get rid of you?" Sam demanded.

"By waking up, naturally," Nyx laughed. "Until then you just have to endure. As I said you can't just walk out of this like you usually do."

"If you're talking about James," Sam said. "Then I have to point out that we were over and I saw no reason to make it more difficult."

"Yes, you do tend to want the easy way," Nyx agreed. "Regardless of what it does to others."

"I didn't mean it was easier just for me," Sam defended herself. "I didn't want to make it more difficult for either of us."

"How do you know what would have been 'more difficult' for Wilson?" Nyx asked. "Did you even know how he took your 'kindness' the last time you left him without any explanation? Or did you even care? Or was it more a case of him not living up to your expectations, and therefore deserving whatever treatment you chose to mete out?"

"I don't know what you mean," Sam refused the notion. "I just didn't see how it would have benefitted either of us to get into an ugly fight and say things we didn't mean. And I am talking about both times."

"Or possibly you just wanted out and couldn't come up with a good – or even credible reason, so you just walked out and left him to clean up the mess," Nyx suggested. "I can understand you doing that when you were both basically still kids, but this time you were supposed to be more mature."

"He didn't trust me!" Sam exclaimed. "How could I go on with someone who doesn't trust me? What kind of conversation could have changed that?"

"With that attitude, none," Nyx accepted. "Nothing's going to change you when all you want is for other people to accommodate your every whim. You didn't want to talk with him because you were pretty sure you wouldn't have liked anything he had to say. Yes, you are right, he didn't trust you. Why should he have when you were trying to deceive him?"

"I was not!" Sam cried. "I had done nothing wrong. He had no reason to doubt my work or my word."

"Oh come on!" Nyx scorned. "Did you really think he can't count? That he wouldn't do his own calculations? That he wouldn't figure it out?"

"I told him that I had done nothing wrong," Sam repeated. "I trust him, I just wanted him to show that he trusts me."

"You didn't trust him against your better judgement," Nyx reminded her. "He hasn't given you any reason not to trust him. But you expected him to take your word against clear evidence to the contrary. And the kicker is that he still was ok with you."

"He suspected me of a crime, for crying out loud," Sam wasn't done defending herself. "How could he do that if he loves me?"

"Euthanasia," Nyx shrugged. "Is that really such a crime when the alternative is still death but you just have to suffer more before it?"

"It's illegal!" Sam explained earnestly. "I would never do it."

"Have you really convinced yourself of that," Nyx wondered. "Or do you just think that I'm an idiot?"

"Why doesn't anyone believe me?" Sam acted offended.

"Because we are left with two choices," Nyx answered. "Either you are an idiot who can't count – in which case somebody needs to take your licence. Or then, you decided to be kind and give the patients once last chance that would either cure them or kill them faster. – Of course the latter option is assuming that you can be kind and were not just playing god."

"How about a third option: I didn't do anything wrong," Sam was getting angry.

"Idiot it is, then," Nyx concluded. "Mind you, I never believed in the kindness theory anyway."

"I. Did. Not. Do. Anything. Wrong!" Sam yelled. "What is so hard to understand in that?"

"The math does not support your theory," Nyx sneered. "So want to change your plea?"

"Fine," Sam bit out. "I did an experiment. They were going to die anyway. I got some valuable data and they got to die sooner after less pain."

"So you went for the 'I am god' –option," Nyx nodded. "Figures. What I can't figure out, though, is why you gave the files to Wilson. There is no way you really thought that he wouldn't see the discrepancy."

"I just wanted him to take my word for it," Sam shrugged.

"Either you wanted him to lie to you – and that after you had specifically told him that your relationship is based on honesty," Nyx derided. "Or then you were testing how blindly besotted he is with you."

"If I was testing that," Sam said. "Then I was disappointed."

"On the 'blindly' part, yes," Nyx agreed. "On the 'besotted' nope. That part ought have made you quite happy. He proposed, for crying out loud. What bigger proof did you need?"

"He should have trusted me," Sam kept repeating. "I didn't appreciate being accused of murder."

"No that wasn't it," Nyx shook her head. "What you didn't appreciate was things going differently from the way you had scripted them in your mind. Too bad you didn't give a copy of the script to Wilson, too."

"That's stupid," Sam asserted. "I don't write scripts in my head. And I did not dump James because he didn't follow some imaginary script. I expected him to support me, to believe in me."

"He did that," Nyx reminded her. "He supported you and believed IN you. He just didn't believe you. He was still besotted just not blind with it. Of course, it is possible that the problem was House."

"House is always a problem," Sam shrugged. "But why would he have been a particular problem with this?"

"Because on his own Wilson would have come to you to have an in-depth discussion about the discrepancies," Nyx mused. "But his explanation about you having done the patients a kindness had House written all over it. And you couldn't stand it that he didn't listen to you when you said you had done nothing wrong, but he did listen to House when he said the same thing – though he did mean it a bit differently. He wasn't all yours to mould, so you decided to leave him."

"That makes me sound some kind of control freak," Sam was offended.

"Yeah," Nyx nodded. "Borderline narcissist personality, I think. Not really unable to understand other people's feelings but unwilling to do so when it can hinder your own ambitions. In other words: incredibly selfish."

"I resent that," Sam stated. "You have no right to make that kind of snap judgements about me."

"Do I look like I care?" Nyx asked. "I told you from the start that your opinions are of no interest to me. I'm just here to make your dreams difficult."

"Well congratulations," Sam growled. "You are succeeding admirably."