The thin line between love and hate
"Every time we lie awake
After every hit we take
Every feeling that I get
But I haven't missed you yet
Every roommate kept awake
By every sigh, and scream we make
All the feelings that I get
But I still don't miss you yet
Only when I stop to think about it
I hate everything about you
Why do I love you?
I hate everything about you
Why do I love you?"
-I Hate Everything About You, Three Days Grace
I don't know why I feel the need to do this, but here it goes: any really devoted, sensitive Flack fans may want to stay away from the fight in this chapter. I love him but he's protrayed as less than perfect here. More human.
Special thanks and shout outs to 'sister luv v.2' for her support and love (and the song) and hope4sall for all her late night chats and ideas she graciously tossed my way. Much love to you both.
Once again: you want to borrow something, please ask. Or at least let me know you are going to do it.
It was quarter to eight by the time Sam got the key into the lock. She was tired. More so emotionally than physically. She cursed her out of control hormones for making her so on edge. Raging mad one moment, in tears the next. She didn't know how much longer she could ride that roller coaster. It was wearing her out and turning her into a hallow shell of the woman that she used to be. She considered calling the
doctor. Asking for something to control the chronic mood swings and recurring insomnia. There had to be something out there to even herself out, stop making her so irritable with those closest to her. It was always the ones that she loved the most and tried their damndest to make her happy that paid the price. And it wasn't fair to them.
But she wasn't the only one to blame for the latest emotional turmoil she was causing herself. She had promised herself that she was past playing the self blame game the minute Zack had turned up dead in that prison shower and cleared the way for her to go on with her life. No man was ever going to make her feel like that again. Not her step father and certainly not her future husband. The talk with Danny had unnerved her. She knew that there was some sort of history between Don and Max. She could tell by the way Danny avoided the topic every time she tried to bring it up. And if this Max was going to be working close to Don, Sam was damn well going to make sure working was all they were going to be doing.
And he wasn't going to convince her it was no big deal or brush it off like it wasn't important.
Danny had all but begged her to stay calm regardless of what she heard. Even if it was the worst case scenario. Freaking out wasn't going to do her, or the baby, any good. And she had to remind herself that Flack was with her. Not anyone else. And that she'd managed the impossible. Getting him to commit and settle down and take his future seriously. That meant more than anything in his past. And that's what it was. His past. History. It had no bearing on what they had and what they wanted out of their life together.
By the time she even stepped in the front door, fighting was the last thing on her mind. Her mini meltdown in the parking garage had stripped her of the energy it took to argue. All she really wanted to do was sit in a hot bath and put on some comfy clothes and relax for the rest of the night. Sleep for twenty four hours would have been preferred. But seeing as that wasn't going to happen, a quiet night and early bed time sounded better than nothing.
"Hey." she said from the doorway to the kitchen where Flack was at the stove, making dinner. Whatever he was making smelled damn good and her stomach grumbled noisily.
"Hey." he greeted. "You sound exhausted."
"I am. What are you making?"
"I went down to that market down the street and got some of that bruschetta breaded tilapia you like and a variety of salads and some of the key lime pie from Bellusos. Hope your hungry."
"When am I not?" she quipped, trying to sound cheerful.
"You okay?" Flack asked, crossing the kitchen and laying a hand on her hip and bending down to kiss her. Pulling back to look down at her, a little surprised , when she turned her head to the side so that his lips connected with her cheek as opposed to her mouth.
"I'm going to take a bath." she said in response, slipping past him and leaving the small kitchen.
"Was it that bad of a day?" Flack asked, looking at the empty doorway long after she passed through it.
"It was." she replied, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
They didn't speak all through dinner. Flack would watch her from across the table and wonder what the hell had ever gone wrong in her day that had done such a number on her. It had been a long time since he'd seen her look so down. The last time he'd seen that darkness in her eyes and the sadness on her face was when she had told him about being abused as a child and what Zack had put her through. She had seemed to turn a corner, mood wise, once she had gotten all the skeletons out of her closet. And Zack's death had seemed to banish that darkness once and for all.
So this quiet, sullen, sad mood was disturbing to him. And he wondered if maybe the doctor had been right about her being a candidate for pre-partum depression. He considered making a phone call to the woman in the morning to express his concerns and get some advice. Because when Samantha wasn't her usual bubbly, chatty self, there was definitely something to worry about.
They were standing at the sink, doing up the dishes when someone finally spoke. Flack was drying while Sam was up to her elbows in soapy water. He was watching her out of the corner of her eye, thinking how adorable she was in her baggy sweats and her tattered t-shirt that barely covered her navel, barrettes holding hair away from the sides of her flawless, make up free face. Without any make up she looked years younger than what she was. A fresh faced high school girl.
"So your day was that bad?" he asked, reaching over her head to put a glass in the cupboard above her.
"Bad enough." she replied. "Why didn't you tell me I needed to get gas before I left? I had to find out in the middle lane in the midst of a nasty traffic jam."
"Sorry. I guess it just slipped my mind with everything that happened yesterday."
"Things went from bad to worse when I had a little incident with your truck." she said.
"An incident? As in an accident?"
"Not that bad." she assured him.
He shrugged. "As long as you're okay, that's all that matters." he told her.
"When I went to get gas put in at the CSI garage, I got out and shut the door behind me and locked the keys inside. I had taken them out of the ignition and sat them on the passenger seat."
"Why didn't you call me to come down with the extra key?"
"I didn't want to wake you up after what happened yesterday." she reasoned. "One of the techs managed to break in and get the keys."
Flack frowned. "Break in? How?"
"He used a coat hanger. I wouldn't have told you if there wasn't a bit of damage done to the door."
Flack sighed.
"Danny says that his brother will most likely fix it free of charge." she said quickly. "It's not a huge thing. Just small. And I didn't mean to do it."
"You sure have your blond moments, Samantha. You're a regular Anna Nicole Smith sometimes."
She knew he was just joking. But those words cut deep into her and a dull ache appeared in her chest. "Do you have to do that?" she asked.
"What?" Flack asked, oblivious to the fact he'd hurt her feelings.
"Say mean things like that. Make fun of me." she scrubbed furiously at a dish in her hands.
"I meant it as a joke." Flack informed her, surprised at her reaction.
"Well it wasn't funny. It hurt my feelings. And I don't appreciate you making fun of me like you do."
"I didn't realize it hurt your feelings. Or that I was making fun of you. Why didn't you say anything before?"
"Because before it didn't bother me. But it does now and I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it."
"Fine. I won't do it. I'm sorry. I'll watch what I say."
"Thank you." she said. "How was your day?"
"Okay. Didn't do much. Those meds make me tired. I called one of the lawyers I'm on friendly terms with and he's gonna get back to me with phone numbers for family attorneys that can handle this Zack thing. And Gerrard called."
"What did he want?"
"He wanted to inform me that I'm being sent to anger management. Work ordered. For smashing that perp's head off the floor."
"It was a logical response if you ask me." Sam said. "Anyone would have reacted like that. But the anger management might actually be a good thing for you."
Flack snorted. "Whatever." he said. "When are you on Gerrard's side?"
"I'm not on anyone's side. And you know I support you no matter what."
"I know." he said, and laid a hand on the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her temple. Frowning when he saw, and felt, her stiffen right up. "What the hell is going on, Sam?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"You get all weird as soon as I touch you. You're never like that. What's going on?"
She pulled the plug in the sink of soapy water and dried her hands on the towel he was holding. "How do you know Emma Maxwell?" she asked. "You knew her daughter right away. You must know her well enough to know her kid."
"She's just another cop." Flack replied, drying the plates and putting them in the cupboard. "She used to work a lot of my crime scenes when she was a uniform. Sometimes our paths would cross when she worked in SVU. I haven't seen her around in months. Heard she had some surgery to repair a V-P shunt in her brain."
"You seem to know a lot about her for just someone you chatted up at a crime scenes." Sam commented.
"We talked a lot. She hung around with me and Danny a couple times. Nothing major."
"Hmmm. That's funny. Because the way she asked about you and the way her eyes lit up at the idea of catching up with you, seemed a lot more than just occasional co-workers to me."
"If you're trying to ask me something, Sam, just come right out and ask. Don't play these stupid little games."
"What's the deal with you and Emma Maxwell?" Sam asked. "And I want the truth."
Flack sighed.
"Did you guys date? Was it a serious thing?"
"No and no." he told her. "Nothing like that."
Sam leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for an explanation.
"Does it really matter?" Flack asked. "She was hired to be my partner."
"How long have you been keeping that little secret away from me?"
"It wasn't a secret. I was going to tell you and there never seemed to be a good time. I wasn't keeping anything from you.."
"How long?" Sam asked sternly.
"Almost a week." Flack admitted.
Sam snorted and shook her head and left the kitchen.
Flack followed her. "What's the big issue?" he asked. "You knew I was getting a partner. What does it matter who it is?"
"You're not telling me the entire truth." Sam said, heading into the bedroom.
Flack stood in the doorway, watching her yank the sheets down. It was her usual coping skill when she was frustrated or upset. To bury herself under the covers and demand to be alone. "What do you want from me, Samantha?" he asked.
"I want you to tell me what the deal is with you and her. Was she your girlfriend?"
"No. I never dated her."
"Well she seemed pretty hung up on you, Donnie. You want to change that answer?"
"I never dated her. She was never my girlfriend. She was just some girl that….." he searched for the right words. "We were friends. That's it. And this one night a whole bunch of us were out drinking and me and her ended up having sex."
"Don't you just hate that?" Sam asked sarcastically. "When it just happens and you forget to say no?"
"I didn't want to say no." Flack said. "I was all about sex then, Samantha. She was ready, willing and able and so was I. So we made a deal."
"A deal? What kind of deal?"
"We had a sex thing. You know, friends with benefits."
"You mean fuck buddies." she corrected.
"Whatever you want to call it."
Sam nodded, hands on her hips as she considered this piece of news. "So I'm just suppose to be okay with this? You being partners with some girl you were fucking?"
"I'm just working with her, Samantha. That's it. Nothing more."
"You've had something with her once. Why not again?"
"Because things are different now. I was single back then. I didn't have any responsibilities. It didn't matter what the hell I did. There was no one to hurt but myself. I have no interest in her or anything like that. I have you, Sam. I don't need anyone else. You're everything I need. Why would I throw that away for sex when I get the most incredible sex of my life from you?"
"Some men can't help it. It's in their nature to do that kind of thing. Want to have their cake and eat it too."
"Well I'm not like that. You're the only one I love. You're the one that shares my bed at night and who I wake up with in the morning. You're the one with the ring on your finger and my baby growing in your body. You're the one that I'm pledging my life and my love to. You own me, Sam. All of me. My heart and my soul. So don't stand here and tell me that you doubt how I feel about you."
"I don't doubt it, Don. I know you love me. But sometimes you make it so hard for me to love you back."
He frowned. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"The way you get with me. The way you're so possessive and so insanely jealous. You assume just because a guy looks at me that you need to worry about me running off with him."
"I love you, Sam. I don't want to loose you."
"But you're going to. If you keep this up, this jealousy and this possessiveness, you will loose me. You have the nerve to tell me I'm overreacting over this whole Max thing when you're ten times worse than I am. You follow me to a crime scene, you have Carmen and Adam spy on me and report back to you…"
"Because I'm worried about you and the baby and you insist on doing stupid, idiotic stuff that puts both of you at risk!" he yelled. "You honestly think I'd sit back and let that happen?"
"I am a grown woman, Don! I am not a child!"
"It's my job to protect you!"
"But you're not!" she argued. "You're possessing me! You're pushing me away! I am not your possession. I'm going to be your wife! I'm having your child and I deserve to be treated like an equal!"
"I do treat you like that."
"No. No you don't. You treat me like you own me. And when I try and treat you the same way you accuse me of suffocating you and tell me I'm clingy."
"Because you don't have a reason to feel jealous or threatened!" he reasoned.
"And neither do you! I love you. So much. But I can't live like this. Being controlled like this."
"I don't…."
"Let me finish. You need to hear this! I can't do this! Be in love with you as much as I am and have you treat me like I'm nothing but a damn piece of property. You might as well be telling me what to wear and who to talk to and where to go. Think about. The maternity clothes you bought me? You bought what you wanted me to wear. Not what I like."
"Well maybe because I think seeing as your becoming a mother, you need to cover yourself up more. Respect yourself instead of showing everything off."
"When have I ever been like that? I have never dressed like a slut! I show some skin. Big deal. And the only time I show anything of is when we're alone and you're the only one looking and I do it because it turns you on."
"Okay. So I'm an overly possessive, insanely jealous asshole." Flack concluded. "Is that what you want from me? To admit I? Fine. I don't know why I'm like this. Every woman I've ever been with, I could have given a fuck less about them and what they did. But I love you and I'm giving everything I have to you and I can't loose you!"
"You will!" she yelled back. "Don't you understand? By controlling me and having to have power over me you're only going to drive me away!"
"I don't want that." he said, shaking his head. "You know that."
"It's a form of abuse." Sam told him.
He stared at her in disbelief. "What!" he bellowed. "Abuse? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't abuse you! What your prick of a birth father did to you and what Zack did to you, that's abuse! I've never abused you! I give you everything, Samantha. When you need money I give it to you. When you want something, no matter what the cost, I buy it for you! When your crazy step father came to town the first time, I gave you a place to stay to avoid you sleeping on a park bench!"
"Am I suppose to thank you a million times a day for the rest of my life?" she asked. "You know I appreciate you and everything you've done for me! But this is where your power thing comes in. Holding stuff over my head like that? Don't you see how wrong that is?"
"That's not what I was doing. I wasn't holding anything over your head. I was just reminding you that…"
"I don't need to be reminded of things! I am not an idiot! I am not one of the dumb ass bimbos you're used to! I should have to feel because I let you do those things for me. You don't have a right to make me feel that way!"
Flack sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say to that.
"And it's not a question of you giving me those things." Sam continued angrily. "It's above all that!
"What are you talking about?"
"I need you to LOVE me!" she shouted. "Not try to protect me all the time. I need to make mistakes, I need to experience things on my own, please... trust me enough to know that I'll be alright!"
"I didn't think I was treating you bad, Sam." Flack's voice was quiet, her words sinking in. "I wouldn't hurt you. You know that. I'd never hurt you. I'm sorry that you took things the wrong way."
"I took things the wrong way? You react the wrong way all the time! Stop and think about what your doing and saying Don and you'll realize how wrong it is."
"So I'm the bad guy?" he asked incredulously. "I'm the reason why things are fucked up between us?"
"I never said that." Sam shook her head sadly. "We're not acting like a couple, Don. We need to be a team. Not just for us but for this baby. And so far, we've been acting like individuals. I know I've done some things you didn't agree with and I admit my problems in our relationship. I want us to make things work. Don't you?"
"Of course I do. You know that. But all this 'cause Max and I…."
"This isn't about you and Max! Fuck, Don! Have you listened to a word I've said? Or do you block out anything that you don't agree with?"
"Tell me what you want, Samantha. What we can do to fix all of this. What I can do to change. If it is what you say it us, abuse, then I want to change. I don't want to be that way. What can we do? Tell me."
"I want us to go to counselling." she told him.
He nearly laughed in her face. Held it back only because of how furious she looked. "What? Are you kidding me? Come on. Is it really that bad that we need therapy? A fucking shrink?"
"Couples therapy." she corrected. "I think we're both really overwhelmed about how fast things happened between us and a therapist could help us sort out our issues."
"A therapist. You're serious. Give me a break. We don't need a therapist."
"We do, Don." she insisted. "We really do."
"Tell you what. Seeing as you're the mental one out of us, you go to therapy."
Sam fought the irresistible urge to smack him across the face. Tears of fury pooled in her eyes. "You know what!" she shrieked. "Fuck you, Don! I don't need this shit from you or any fucking man!"
Sam went to the closet and yanked a hooded sweatshirt off its hanger and grabbed her purse and cell phone off the dresser. She made for the door.
Flack stepped in the path, hands on either side of the door frame, blocking her way. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"Out. I need to get the hell out of here. You think you can talk to me like that and expect me to put up with it?"
"You're not going anywhere Samantha."
"I may have a lot of problems, but you said you accepted me no matter what."
"I do, baby. You know that. I'm sorry I said that. Don't walk out on me."
"Why do you say these things, Don?"
"I don't mean them. They just come out of my mouth. Before I even realized I said them."
"But why?"
"I don't know." he admitted honestly.
"We need help. We really do."
"But we love each other, Sam."
"Sometimes that isn't enough." she said. "We need to like each other and respect each other too. You're not the only one to blame for this. You're not a bad person, Don. And I love you. But I need to love myself, too. I need to realize that I could live without you and take care of this baby on my own if I had to. That I don't need to rely on you to make me happy and feel good about myself. And I need you to realize what you've been doing."
"I haven't been doing anything." he argued. "I work and I come home to you. Sometimes I loose my temper and say things I shouldn't. And yeah, I am possessive. But I just want to keep you safe."
"You're driving me away, Don. Why can't you see that?"
"All of this because of Max? All this freaking out over someone I used to sleep with long before you ever came into my life?"
Sam shook her head. "You still don't get it, do you. Why aren't you listening to me?"
"Maybe because it's nothing but a bunch of crap coming out of your mouth."
Sam glared up at him. "Get out of my way." she demanded.
"Samantha…"
"I mean it, Don. Get out of my way. Before your big mouth gets you into deeper hot water."
"I'm not letting you just walk out on me, Samantha."
"Would you please just get out of the way?" she practically begged. "Please! I need some time alone. Give that to me. Please. I love you but I can't put myself or the baby, our baby, through this."
"Are you coming back?" he asked, masking the fear in his voice. The fear that she was walking out on him for good.
"I need time to think." she replied. "And so do you. Please. Let me go."
Flack sighed heavily and stepped aside, his hands raised in surrender. He stood in the hallway outside the bedroom, watching helplessly as she hurried away from him. He felt hurt by her words. Angry at her and himself. And ashamed that he'd treated her so badly.
He heard the front door open and then slam shut. Leaving the apartment in utter silence. He shook with rage. Tears of fury burned his eyes. In a sudden burst of anger, he turned and landed a solid right to the wall next to him. His fist burying deep in the plaster.
He pulled his hand out of the wall and stared at it. His knuckles bleeding and immediately swelling. He felt no pain. Just anger and shame. He headed down the hall and into the kitchen, wrapping the dish rag around his injured hand and then tossing open the cupboards above the stove.
He grabbed an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels and tore off the cap, tossing it into the sink with a clatter. He contemplated getting a glass and some ice, then thought fuck it and took a swig right from the bottle.
Then he sat down at the kitchen table with his first and greatest weakness clutched in his hand and waited.
Speed had just settled in on the couch with a bottle of beer and that day's New York Times when a knock came to the apartment door. Carmen's apartment door. He often wondered why they kept two places when he was there ninety-nine percent of the time and his place sat empty and his belongings collecting dust. They planned on getting a place of their own shortly before the wedding and were trying to re-do their finances in hopes of purchasing a condo or a little house of their own in one of the suburbs. Manhattan was just way too expensive even with their combined salaries. And if they decided to try for kids…..
It was the first time in his life that Speed ever seriously considered being a father. Before Carmen, the thought of helping bring a kid into such a fucked up world was out of the question. He realized now it was because he'd never been with the right woman. One he'd sacrifice his fiercely independent personality for. One that he'd make such a profound, unselfish commitment too. He'd never even felt that for Calleigh and he'd considered marrying her. He knew know it wasn't out of love, it was out of the fear of being alone for the rest of his life.
Carmen had come into his life suddenly and forcefully. And he loved her with every fibre of his being.
The knocking was loud and insisted. Speed sat the bottle of beer down on the coffee table and the paper on the couch and headed out of the living room and into the small foyer to answer the door. Surprised to find Samantha Ross standing there with a tear streaked face.
"Uh…..hi." Sam said, uncomfortable at being greeted by Tim Speedle in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
"Hey." Speed said in return and stuck his head out the door, glancing up and down the hallway. "Where's Flack?"
"Home. Is Carmen here?"
"She left about a half hour ago. She got called out."
"Shit…..I forgot she was on call the last two days. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You didn't. What's going on? Anything I can help with?"
"Not really. Thanks though. I should go. Maybe my brother is home."
"He's like twenty minutes from here. And how'd you get here in the first place?"
"I took the subway."
"Station is two blocks away. You take a cab from there?"
"I walked."
"At ten at night? A pregnant woman, walking alone in New York City at ten at night. You're insane."
"I have enough name calling for one night." she informed him and turned on her heel and walked away.
What the hell was that all about? Speed thought. He stepped out of the apartment. "Sam! Hold up!" he called to her. "I didn't mean that in a derogatory way. I just didn't think it was smart you taking the subway and then walking. I'm sorry."
She stopped just shy of the elevator and looked back at him.
"I can tell your upset. I know I'm not Carmen and things haven't been the same between you and I since…." he stopped himself from going any further on that subject. "I'm a pretty good listener, Sam. You want to talk, here I am."
"You mean that?" she asked skeptically.
Speed nodded.
She came back down the hallway and he held the door open, letting her pass through and into the kitchen before shutting the door and locking it behind them.
"At least you apologize when you say things like that." Sam commented.
"Why wouldn't I? It was a dumb thing to say."
"Some people don't see it that way." she huffed.
He grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on top of the fridge and handed them to her. "You want anything to drink? I can make you a tea? We got bottled water, juice. You name it."
"Water is fine. Do you have any Tylenol? I have a splitting head ache."
He got her a water from the fridge and uncapped it for her, then took a bottle of Tylenol from one of the cupboards and got out two tablets. "So?" he asked, holding out his hand. "Wanna tell me what happened?"
"Don and I got into a huge fight." Sam replied, taking the tablets and swallowing them with a huge sip of water. "I walked out."
"For good?"
She tilted her head sideways and regarded Speed with an arched eyebrow. "What made you ask that?"
"You guys have fought before and you've always stuck around. What's so different this time?"
"It was a nasty fight. Way nastier the other ones we've had. I told him I thought we needed counselling."
"Worst words to ever say to a man." Speed declared. "What did he say?"
"He refused to go. I expected it."
"What started all this off?"
"His new partner."
"Girl that was in the lab earlier today?"
Sam nodded.
"Lots of men work with female partners. No reason to get all bent out of shape with him."
"How many of those guys work with their former fuck buddy?" Sam asked.
"Oh." Speed replied. He had no idea what else to say. He motioned for her to follow him into the living room. He sat down on the couch and took a swig of his beer.
"Guess him and this Max girl had a thing before I came along." Sam explained, taking a seat in the love seat across from him. "Now they're going to be working together."
"And you're pissed." Speed concluded.
"Wouldn't you be? If Carmen's ex suddenly showed up and she'd be around him all the time?"
"I wouldn't like the idea. But I'd trust her enough to know nothing would happen. And you need to trust Flack to do the right thing. He knows right from wrong, Samantha. And in his defence, he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his relationship with you. Cut him some slack on this. Trust him and how much he loves you."
"It's not him I don't trust, Tim. It's her."
"Sam, he's a big boy. He knows how to say no. And if I didn't think you could trust him, I'd tell you and you know that."
She nodded and sipped her water. "Can I get your honest opinion?" she asked.
"Do I ever give anything but?" Speed retorted.
"True."
"Do you think the way Don is is abusive?"
"How do you mean? He's not smacking you around or anything behind closed doors or anything is he?"
"No. He'd never hit me. I mean the way he acts with me. The jealousy and the possessive and the way he has to control things. Do you find the abusive?"
"Do you?"
Sam sighed and nodded. "He doesn't mean it, Tim. He doesn't even realize he's doing it. He's got a good heart and I know he loves me and he really thinks he's trying to protect me and the baby. But sometimes, when he gets that, I feel like I can't breathe. That I need to just escape. Does any of this make sense?"
Speed nodded and sipped his beer. "I think it's borderline. It could go either way. But I'm not gonna sit here and pass judgement on the guy. It's not my place to do that. What I can do is give you some advice. Instead of running away from the problem, talk to him and tell him how you feel."
"I did. And it made things even worse."
"No offense, Mouse, but I know what you get like when you hear something you don't like. I mean talking to him calmly and rationally. You accuse him of anything or get nasty, he's just going to be like that right back. And by the state your in, my guess is that things did get nasty both ways."
"Unfortunately." Sam sighed.
"For what it's worth, I'd be the same way with Carmen that Flack is with you if I knew she wouldn't kick my ass to the curb. You need to talk to him, Samantha. Go home instead of sitting here wallowing to me and tell him how you feel. Explain to him how you're feeling and how he'll loose you if he doesn't ease up a little. Be honest with him. And listen to him being honest with you even if it kills you inside to hear it."
Samantha sighed and stared down at the sparkling diamond that adorned her finger. After the mess with Zack, she never would have dreamed of taking that step of being engaged and becoming someones wife. But she'd been giving a second chance and she didn't want to throw it away that easily.
"What do you have to loose?" Speed asked. "You've all ready been through hell and back. If you can survive all that, dealing with Flack should seem like a cake walk."
She nodded in agreement. "And if it's not?" she asked.
"Then you fight with everything you have and let him know that you're not fucking around. Trust me, Sam. The sooner you deal with this, the better off you, Flack and that baby will be. Now's the time you two gotta come together. Stop all the bullshit. That baby needs you guys. Working together. Not tearing each other down. And you're both guilty of that."
"So many things I wish I could take back." she said quietly.
"Can't live your life on wishes." Speed told her. "Trust in him, Samantha. And in yourself. You guys will work this out and fifty years from now, sit back and laugh about how ridiculous it all was."
"If we get that far." Sam sighed.
"You will." Speed promised her. "First place you have to get to is home. To your husband. And work this shit out."
Sam nodded in agreement and stood up. "Thanks, Tim. Never thought we'd ever be talking about stuff like this. Or that you'd be dishing out such sound advice."
"I'm full of surprises." he said.
Flack was still sitting at the kitchen table when she arrived home shortly after eleven. He said nothing in greeting as he listened to the door open and shut, followed by the sound of the chain and dead bolt being closed up for the night. He was still reeling from the things she had said. For accusing him of being abusive. And was more angry at himself then her because the more he thought about the instances she laid out, the more he realized that she was right. He hadn't been treating her right. And she deserved to be treated right and so much more.
He was becoming his father. He'd sworn that would never happen and it was. He was pissed with himself for allowing that to happen. And for not seeing what he was doing earlier.
And at that moment, hearing her come in the door, he was overwhelmed with relief. She had come back. He hadn't been so sure that she would. And now he was determined to make sure she never walked out again.
Sam appeared in the doorway. She stood watching him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You came back." he said, not looking at her.
"Where you afraid I wouldn't?"
Flack nodded.
"Good." she said in the brutal honesty she was known for. "Maybe now you'll realize there's a problem and we need to fix it."
"I don't want to loose you, Samantha." he said quietly.
"Then me and you need to make this work, Don. Because as much as I love you and I don't want to walk away…."
"I understand." he cut her off. "I don't blame you for hating me sometimes. I hate myself most days so why shouldn't you?"
Sam sat her purse and cell phone on the counter and tossed her keys on top of the microwave. She walked into the kitchen and stood behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. And noticed the half empty bottle of JD in front of him and the ice pack on his hand.
"I don't hate you." she told him. "I just find you hard to deal with sometimes. And I know I'm not the easiest person to live with either. We're both at fault. I'm not just blaming you."
"I think we're both fucked up." he declared.
"What happened to your hand?" she asked, taking a seat in the chair across from him.
"I put my fist through the wall by the bedroom. It's fine."
She reached across the table. "Let me see." she said.
"Sam….it's fine."
She grabbed his hand. Her fingertips were soft and loving on his swollen knuckles. She bent and pressed a kiss to each one.
He watched her intently, feeling so ashamed that he'd ever treated her so badly.
She noticed him watching her and smiled and held his hand in both of hers.
"Tell me we're going to be okay, Sam." he nearly pleaded.
"I don't know, Don. I hope so. I want us to be. " she looked at the bottle of JD. "You've had a lot to drink."
He shrugged and took a swig of the liquor. "Not that much." he said.
"You always do that when you get upset. Turn to the bottle."
"Don't start. Please don't start. I don't have a drinking problem. I just…" he sighed and closed his eyes briefly, searching for the words. "I need it to cope sometimes. Okay?"
Sam sighed. "You shouldn't be drinking with all the meds your taking."
"I know. Okay? I know. Where did you go?"
"Carmen's." Sam answered. "I needed to talk to someone I trusted."
"And did you talk to her?"
Sam nodded.
"That's weird." Flack said, taking another swallow of JD. "'Cause I called Carmen's cell to see if you were with her and she told me she wasn't even at home. That she had gotten called into work."
Sam stared hard at him. An unimpressed look on her face. "Checking up on me now too?" she asked.
"Don't lie to me ever again, Samantha." he warned, voice and eyes dead serious.
"What? So now you're going to talk to me like some perp in interrogation? This is bullshit." she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. "I didn't come back here to fight with you all over again."
"Where were you?" Flack asked, catching her by the wrist as she went to step past him. Holding her securely where she was with a tight grip.
"I went to Carmen's. I'm not lying about that. But she wasn't there so I just hung out with Tim for a little while." Sam attempted to pull away from him but he tightened his grip even more.
"Just hung out?" Flack asked, an eyebrow arched.
"We talked. He gave me some advice. Convinced me to come home." Sam tried to pry his fingers away from her wrist to no avail. He was just too strong. "Do you mind?" she asked, looking down at his hand around her slender wrist.
"And?" he asked.
"And what? There's no and. That's it. We talked."
"I'm suppose to believe that?"
"Yeah. You are. You're drunk, Don. And if I were you, I'd like go of my wrist before you end up with a busted nose to go with your busted hand."
"You cheating on me?" he asked.
"What!? Are you insane as well as drunk! Let go of me! You're hurting me!"
"Answer the question!"
"I am not cheating on you! I'm pregnant for Christ sakes! I wouldn't cheat on you! Now let me go! You're seriously hurting me."
He released his grip on her. "But you would cheat on me if you weren't pregnant?"
"No. I wouldn't." she rubbed at her tender wrist. "So don't ever accuse me of it again! I'm going to bed. It's been a long day and even longer night. You can either sit here and get even more shit faced or join me. It's up to you."
He grabbed her by the wrist again and pulled her to him, so that she was standing between his legs. He let go of her wrist and laid his hands lightly on her hips.
"I'm sorry, Samantha. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't mean to say those things to you or abuse you in any way. I just want to protect you and the baby. Love you. I didn' realize I was doing anything wrong. I'm not a bad person."
"I know. And I know you didn't mean it. But you need to realize what you're doing and acknowledge it. We both need to realize what we're both doing. Or this isn't going to work."
"Don't say that. I want this to work."
Sam cradled his face in her hands. "We need help, Don. We need to talk to someone."
"You really think we need a therapist? Counselling? Is it really that bad? Can't we just talk things out and work them out on our own? Why do we need a stranger to get involved?"
"It doesn't hurt to at least try. Even if we just go for one session to see if we're comfortable with the idea of getting professional help."
"I can't….my head feels like it's going to explode."
"You've had too much to drink."
He nodded in agreement. "I need time to think. About this therapist thing. When I'm sober. Can you give me that?"
Sam kissed him softly. "I think we should go to bed. It's been a long crappy day. We'll see how we both feel in the morning. Okay?"
"Okay." he agreed and kissed her. Long and soft. His hand slipping from her hips and up her back under her shirt. He felt her body tremble and then tense up when his finger tips trailed down her spine and then back up again.
She pulled away when his lips found her neck. "We should go to bed." she said "I'm tired. And you're drunk."
"I am not drunk." he argued.
"Even if you weren't, this can't happen tonight and you know that."
"Why not? Because we had a fight? Isn't making up the best part?"
"We use sex against each other. We use it to get what we want and have power and control over each other And when we do that it becomes impersonal."
"That's where you're wrong. I don't use it against you. I use it to make you feel good and show you I love you. And you know what's impersonal? You calling it sex all the time. That's impersonal. We're not just two people that are fucking each other. We're getting married and having a baby. We love each other. Sometimes, yeah,it's quick and straight to the point and that's sex. Other times it's slow and intense. That's making love. And when you call it sex all the time, that's impersonal."
"What does it matter what it's called? Same end result."
"It's not the end result that matters most." he said. "It's what happens leading up to it."
Sam frowned and cast a glance over her shoulder at the bottle of JD. "What the hell is in that stuff?" she asked.
"For some reason I make more sense when I'm drinking."
"I've noticed. And I'm sorry I'm like this. It's my weakness, Sam. I need help. Drinking like this… I need help."
"What you need is sleep. And I'm sorry for making you feel bad by saying sex all the time. I didn't realize it offended you. It's just….I never had someone be so attentive and caring in bed. I'm used to Zack and…."
"You don't have to say anything else, Sam. I'm not Zack. I'm far from being Zack. I may be a prick sometimes, but I'd never hurt you like he did."
"I know, Don." she presed a kiss to his forehead. "And you know what else I know? You talk a lot of BS when you're drunk. And you get overly emotional and weepy and you need to just lie down and sleep it off. Okay? You'll feel a hell of a lot better if you get some sleep."
"All right." he nodded in agreement. "You're right. I need some sleep. I need to lie down. My head is going to explode."
Sam extracated herself from the hold he had on her hips and watched as he stood slowly, swaying a little.
"I can't carry you, Don." she said. "So you either make it on your own or you sleep here."
"I'll be fine." he assured her, but put a hand on her shoulder to be on the safe side.
"You are way too damn heavy." Sam complained, putting her arm around him, her hand on his back.
"But not fat." he informed her.
"I've never called you fat. I've said your heavy."
"Well I wouldn't be heavy to you if you weren't the size of a ten year old." Flack said.
"Watch it or I'll drop you on your ass and leave you in the middle of the floor."
"I love you, baby." he declared, pressing a sloppy kiss to the top of her head. "I don't deserve you. I don't know why you put up with me. But I love you. Soooo much."
"I love you, too." she said. "Can you walk a bit faster? You're like dead weight."
"You know what we should do?" he asked.
"What's that?"
"Go in the bedroom and fuck."
She smirked. "Don, you wouldn't be able to get it up with a stiff breeze in the room."
"Wanna bet?" he asked.
"Just be quiet and keep walking."
"You know what?"
"What now?"
"I need to sit down. Before I puke."
Sam steered him in the direction of the living room and then let him fall heavily onto the couch. She ran for the bathroom to grab the waste basket. She yanked out the plastic bag of trash and took just the empty container out into the living room in case he did need to throw up.
"Don, are you ….." she stopped in mid sentence as she entered the living room and found him face down on the couch, passed out cold. "Going to be okay?" she finished, sighing heavily and setting the trash can on the floor beside the couch.
She grabbed the throw off the back of the couch and covered him with it. She ran a hand over his hair and leaned over him to kiss the top of his head softly.
"We'll be okay." she whispered, stroking his hair. "We just have to stick together."
He mumbled something in his sleep. Rolled over onto his side, facing the back of the couch.
Sam tucked the throw around him and went and shut off the lamp on the nearby end table. At least I have the entire bed to myself, she thought wryly and headed out of the room.
"Sam." Flack called softly to her.
"There's a bucket beside you if you're going to be sick." she said.
"I wasn't going to…..we're a team, Sam. Me and you. I'll always stick by you. No matter what."
She smiled. "Go to sleep, Don."
"No matter what." he vowed. "One day I'll prove it to you."
"I'll be waiting." she said and headed for the bedroom.
Big thanks to all of you who take the time to read and review. Today I am plugging:
Madison Bellows: Playing with Fire (based on the television show Rescue Me and a great read whether you're a fan of the show or not), Starting Fires (over on Fiction Press) and Positive (here in NY land)
Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes and Recovery
Laplandgurl: A Magnet for Trouble
There are so many, many others. Check out my fav stories and authors over on my profile. Or better yet, see the end of some of my previous chapters.
Mauveine: Flack is such a man. LOL. Give me a list of rules and cough up the keys and don't get you're a# out of bed. Daria was fun to write. Especially that part between her and Sam. My nephew talks just like that! He would be the worst witness to a crime. He's too distracted by other things. And better late than never dah-ling!
Soccer: Thanks for the review. Sam learns that while the truth is always best, it's damn painful to hear it.
Blue: I was so nervous writing Max. I am glad that you love it. Thanks for tossing her my way.
Laplandgurl: Sam's having a hell of a time. Some have it free and easy, others suffer. Could you just imagine Mac's face with her cursing? LOL. There's a lot of things that Sam and Flack need to work on. But they'll be okay.
Brrtmclv: I hope the start to the Max/Sam/Flack issue was good for you. More to come.
Hope4sall: How did the fight turn out do you think? She has a reason to be worried. They both do.
ImaSupernaturalCSI: Her name was originally Erica and had to be changed. LOL. I had a momentary brain fart at that moment and put the wrong name.
Forest Angel: Yeah….real life sucks. Big time.
Madison: Sam and Daria were a blast to write. My nephew asks everyone what grade they are in. Whether they're 13 or 83. LOL.