A/N: a late birthday present to my, Zoe, who, fuels my Samtrick pain. Thank you for everyone who has kept up with my sporadic updates!

"It's the colors that will make you stray. They sing to you, the not-blue and the searing light, and no matter how tightly you tie yourself to the inbetween, eventually you will break free.

No one swims only in the shallow water." - Betsey Cornwell, Tides.

The guilt and exhaustion settle into her bones and by the time she crosses the state line, she can feel her joints stiffen in protest, too many hours in the car...too many tears against the wheel. She doesn't check her phone, equal parts afraid of what she may see...and what she will not.

He had sent her away, and the sting of it pierces against her skin like the prickles of a million needles, just enough to maim her completely. The last stop for drive thru coffee and her simmering anger is what gets her through the last leg of the journey. By the time she reaches his parking space at the hospital, she's gritted teeth, seething.

How dare he send her away like that? After all they had been through? They had been a team and he just...she knew it was hard but they had agreed to be friends, how was he so willing to throw all that away too?

Deep down, she knows it's irrational, but that doesn't matter because, for a moment, she felt alive again. Like a wounded bird with fresh air breathed into its lungs, soaring and feeling for the first time at months. For a moment, she had been free, again. She throws the car into park, pulls her phone off the charger, slams the door, kicks the tire for good measure and gets into her own car. It's the first time she's looked at the phone.

Six missed calls.

Jason, Jason, Jason, Jason, Jason, Jason

Slamming her hand against the steering wheel, she grabs the shift and throws it into reverse, speeding across town to the penthouse.

Her heart is ramming against her ribcage when she comes through the door, worried, and then she sees the table, with the half melted candles, a dozen roses, wine glasses and she chokes up the sob that was born on the beach in Ohio and died on her lips in Port Charles.

Leaning against the door, she runs her hand through her hair and steadies her breath, swiping the tears off her face and looking up to the creaking stairs. He stands at the top, blonde hair- unkempt and childlike now, the slight blonde stubble that her fingers had never known before, the blue eyes that she wanted to be the same….that she wanted to piece through her soul like they had before they lost it all in one fell swoop.

"Hey"

"Hey"

She watches his Adam's apple bob with emotion and he steps down a couple stairs. She opens her mouth to speak but his opens first, "I tracked your car last night" he tells her, almost flippant, coming down the last of the stairs.

As her back stiffened, the guilt she had been feeling begins to dissipate, "What?" she asks, arms coming across her chest as she pushes away from the door.

Walking by, he shrugs, "Right next to Patrick's car, work, right?" he asks.

His tone gives him away, and she knows enough about him now to know he's bothered...jealous. It irks her in a way that she can't explain. Maybe it was all the nights he would disappear, all the unanswered questions where she waited at home, for him to return…

Or not to return.

Maybe she's been waiting for this moment, for this fight because for months, all she was was so damn agreeable, trying to make everything work for everyone else. Ignoring things that had been glaring at her but now, shes' too tired, everything is too raw and it combusts.

"First of all, how dare you. I trust you, you've run out of here at all hours of the night, and I trusted you. Maybe you don't remember but you were always leaving, and I couldn't question...or I learned not to because I never got answers" she tells him and his neck snaps, eyes wide as she begins to unleash.

"Second of all, I was working, I helped Patrick with a case that had to do with his patient, it broke last night and we went together to figure it out. We don't lie to each other" she tells him pointedly and adds, "Even if you don't remember that"

Eyes shine brightly, his jaw set and he breathes out harshly, "I don't like you around him, okay? It wasn't too long ago that you were ready to marry him" he tells her, waving his hand around.

Biting her lip, she almost smirks...almost and shakes her head, "Well not too long ago you were ready to marry Elizabeth...but I'm supposed to smile when you go to pick up Jake every Friday, or when you have to go to open house together"

"That's-" he starts.

A hand comes up to stop him, "Different? Yeah, different...I guess that's one thing that's stayed the same" she says, resigned, pushing past him to go up the stairs. It was a low blow but she's been taking the high road so wrong, she almost forgot how good it felt, to not always try and be the better person.

OoO

Sleep doesn't come, instead she's fighting the sheets and tossing and turning in the guest bed. It didn't feel right to go into their room, to crawl into the bed that hadn't felt the same since he left that night, a different face, a different man. Nothing felt right anymore except the raging storm that brews in her veins. When she finally gives up on sleep, she grabs her phone looking at the time and deciding it's too early to call for Danny. Plus, if she's being slightly selfish, she just needs a little time to decompress. It starts with a hot shower, washing away the smell of the water that lingers in her hair, and the last bits of mascara that weren't stuck to her tear stained face.

Somehow, deep inside, she knows the night before and this morning were some seismic shift in her life, in her heart...because for so long she had been moving with the ebbs and flows of the tide instead of pushing back when she should...instead of fighting against the current to get back to who she was. That stopped now.

Cody's voice finds a way into her head, the first time he threw her into a pool, "Sink or swim McCall, sink or swim"

Grabbing the keys, she knows there's only one place she needs to be, needs to face.

OoO

He answers barefoot, in soft jeans, the five o'clock shadow playing on his handsome features. He doesn't speak, opens the door wider and lets her in. It's silent for a couple moments, but she can feel the hurt heat up her skin, hairs standing on end as she desperately tells herself that she will not cry, not now, not here. So she turns away from him, looks at the wall where their pictures once were, bites her lip and wills herself to be strong.

"Sam" his voice is just above a rasp, throaty, full of emotion.

Turning, she looks at him, "What the hell was that last night?" she asks, "I thought we were friends...I thought we were a team" she tells him, trying to avoid the crack that comes in the middle, betraying her calm facade.

His hand combs through his hair like he does when he's frustrated, "We are...we are friends" he says less convincing than she anticipated.

"So that's how you treat your friends" she shoots back, her voice slowly climbing higher, "Oh hey thanks for your help, now you can go" she finishes, just below shouting.

That garners a frustrated eye roll and he stomps his foot in the way he does when he's upset, his eyes still looking at the ceiling, "Oh what, don't have an answer for that? Because things were going great, we were working together again, it felt good and then you just flip this switch" and she's rambling now, confused, angry, afraid.

"STOP" he yells, before she can continue, "Stop" he repeats softer, "Don't you get it Sam? It did feel good, it felt great, it felt like we were back to normal, back..back. But we're not. Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you out there, not to grab you in my arms and touch every inch of your skin. Because you're not mine anymore because, I was willing to fool myself into thinking that we could have that...and, I wouldn't want...but I do. I still do, and I'm sorry" he finishes, his eyes now shimmering with moisture that opens the floodgates from her own heart.

Tears well up and spill before she can even think and he's stepping forward, swiping his fingers over her cheeks, the pads of his fingers still wet from wiping his own tears, "I'm sorry" he whispers, "I wanted so much to…"

Her hand comes around his wrist, still cupping her face, "Patrick"

That sad soft smile comes to his face, his eyes crinkling softly, twinkling at her, "I know, you're with Jason, I know I had to let you go because you were still in love with him...but I'm still in love with you, I never stopped"

The moment slows, time stands still, his words pour over her like honey, everything she's wanted to hear but never quite let herself admit, is lying at their feet and now, she has to either let the tide roll in and choose the life she leads...or swim past the expectations to the life she could have.

Sink or swim, McCall.