Lyrics by Pink - Give Me A Reason

The woman in the lab coat walked back into the room, unsmiling. The warmth she had extended to the seventeen year old was gone as she dropped a manila folder on the counter between them.

"I hope you know this is very serious, Miss Manson."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

The doctor blinked, surprised Sam had the strength to speak. The blue bruises around her neck made it look painful to whisper, and yet she had managed an entire sentence with what looked like ease.

"I get a lot of clients who refuse to talk." The woman took a seat on the stool across from Sam; the chair scraping against tile as she scooted closer. "But they think their boyfriends will hit them again."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Then who is doing this to you?" The doctor demanded. "I've seen everything, Sam. Not just those new marks on your neck. Your entire body has scars and healed tissue. Who is doing this?"

With a smile, Sam asked, "Would you believe me if I said myself?"

~I let you see the parts of me

that weren't all that pretty

And with every touch

you fixed them~

By the time Danny came back to school, Sam had already visited him four times. She mainly came after school to check on him. She and Maddie had made a friendly relationship in which Maddie would bring dinner on a tray for her. Sam remained at his side, either reading a novel or sketching in her notebook for hours at a time. She didn't realize how much she was paying attention to the delinquent until she subconsciously drew his sleeping face.

In English class, Sam watched Danny as he wore the same dull expression everyone in the room had. To give him credit, he was staring in Mr. Lancer's direction with one hand supporting his chin. Sam knew she was becoming overly obsessed with him, but now he confused her more than ever. When Danny lifted his arm to stretch, she could see scars all along his wrists.

"He has scars?" Sam had asked Maddie on one of her daily visits.

"Every time Danny is in a weak state, we've had to hook him up to an IV. It isn't easy to find a vein the first try." Maddie stared at her son's wrists and almost teared.

"Miss Manson, would you stop day dreaming and answer this question?"

Danny met her eyes for a fraction of a second before she was able to stare at the frowning overweight teacher. "I'm sorry," she whispered as the kids around her snickered.

She had thought up several scenarios of Danny waking up to her face, in which Sam had a couple hundred excuses in return before he could even question her. Still, it always ended with him being furious or ashamed and casting her away for good. For some reason she couldn't stand the thought. As much as she hated the delinquent, his story had touched her heart, though she had yet to accept Maddie's statement of her being a woman in love.

But now Danny was awake and she missed sitting at his side. The peace she felt staring at his sleeping face was gone and she had spent the past few nights restless in bed. How crazy was it that she felt more comfortable when he was out cold? It was a little sadistic, even for a goth.

The bell rang and Sam stood from her seat, slightly disappointed. A hand caught her arm when she made it to the door. Danny's face was expressionless. "Hey, I need to talk to you."

Sam glanced down the hallway. "I have class."

"So ditch."

She glared at him. "Unlike some people, I care about my education." She jerked her hand out of his grasp.

Instead of escaping, Danny caught Sam's wrist and squeezed until the goth winced in pain. He pulled her closer, his demeanor completely different. "This is serious," he said in a threatening tone. "We need to talk."

"Fenton, a word?" Mr. Lancer asked from behind him, arms crossed. A nerve in Danny's jaw twitched as he released Sam and turned toward his teacher.

Mr. Lancer checked Sam's awestruck face. "You're free to go, Miss Manson." In amazement, she realized he had just saved her. Sam ducked her head in a silent thank you and walked away.

Sam Manson was dressed in a tight pair of pajama shorts and purple zip up sweater when there was a knock on the door. She put down her sketch book and stood up, checking the clock. It was six. The maid wasn't due until eight.

The doorbell rang again and she sighed, climbing out of bed to the door. Once she was at the door she checked the peephole, gasping.

"Sam?"

She didn't answer. She merely stood at the barrier between them, keeping the strange boy at bay. Her throat constricted as she struggled to speak.

"I know you're there. Open up." Silence. "You're not going to make me scale up to the window, are you?"

She could almost see the joking smile plastered across his face. Sam put her hand on the knob, but didn't turn it.

"I thought you weren't the stalker type." She yelled. Outside, she could make out faint laughter.

"Give me a chance to explain?"

"You seemed pretty angry this morning." She leaned her back against the door. "Are you sure you have that temper of yours under control?"

"Look, I need to clear something's up with you. Please, hear me out."

Sam debated leaving him outside, but then she remembered sitting beside him, watching his sleeping face. Sam face palmed herself. Why did he of all people have to be the one to get through to her? She sighed and opened the door.

"I want answers."

Danny stared at her body, at the tiny shorts she had thrown on and nearly groaned. Her sweater covered her entire torso, but clung onto her thin figure. He quickly averted his eyes.

"I know you're dying to ask."

"What?" Danny stared back at her, blushing. He managed to keep his eyes on her face this time.

Sam rolled her eyes. "The bruises?" She pointed at her neck where red marks lined the delicate flesh. "You knew something was up when you approached me in class, but why did you even bother saying anything? I mean, you've never bothered talking to me before-"

They stood awkwardly in the doorway. Danny looked behind him, uncomfortable. Sam sighed.

"Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. Just come inside." She walked away, giving him the perfect view of her ass.

Get a hold of your hormones, Danny! It's just Sam Manson. She's more bark than bite.

But that's what he liked about her. Scolding himself, Danny followed her inside, making sure to keep his thoughts, and his hands, away from the Manson girl.

"Are you planning on staring at me all day?"

"What?"

Danny concentrated on Sam's face as she shoved a plate of leftovers into the microwave. He'd been inside her home for a little more than two minutes and found himself staring at her more than he should. And in all the wrong places.

"No," he answered. She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Uh..Yes." Wait, what was the question again?

Sam rolled her eyes and sighed, joining him at the kitchen table. "Like I was saying before, what do you want?"

You. Thankfully, he caught himself before saying the word aloud. "Did I scare you?"

Sam was startled by his response. His voice was soft now; his head bowed so she couldn't see his expression. She frowned. "Anyone in their right of mind wouldn't let you in their house after what you did."

He looked up, hopeful. "But you did."

"Yeah, because I'm an idiot who wants answers."

"Oh…Okay." He looked disappointed. "I have a few questions for you too."

"What do you want to know?"

"Your secrets."

Sam snorted. "What makes you think I have any secrets?"

"The way you're avoiding the subject, for one." She glared as he continued. "I don't know a lot about you other than that you're hiding something."

"And what exactly am I hiding?"

"Everything."

They were at a standstill. Sam pressed her lips together in displeasure. "Fine." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Go ahead."

Danny blinked, taken aback by her cooperation, although Sam wasn't about to admit just how desperate she was to learn about his past. "Your parents..." He studied her face closely, "where are they?"

"On a business trip, I guess."

"You guess?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. The last letter I got from them I threw out."

He gasped. "You mean you receive letters from them?"

"After I stopped taking their calls, they sent the letters. They figured since I liked to read so much..."

Danny shook his head. "Letters though? Don't they ever stop by?"

"Unfortunately." She frowned. "They usually go on business trips together. I'm not an idiot though. I know they end up getting separate rooms."

"Why would they do that?"

She gave Danny a sarcastic look.

He blinked. "What?"

"They're not together anymore." Sam spelled it out for him. For a teenage boy, he sure was clueless.

Danny flushed in embarrassment. "But they're still married, aren't they?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So, if they're married, shouldn't they love each other?"

She almost laughed at how naive he sounded. "They tolerate one another. And they can hardly manage that."

"Are they staying together for your sake?"

Sam snorted. "My father is a businessman. He can't soil the Manson reputation with a divorce." She rolled her eyes. "Nor can he risk being seen with his demonic daughter."

"Sam-"

"All my mother cares about is money," she continued. "They both came to an agreement a few years ago; to pretend to be happily married. That's when the fights stopped. Eventually, they stopped talking to each other altogether."

Danny stared at her with glazed eyes. "You witnessed your parents' fights?"

A nerve in her face twitched. She glanced over at the microwave. "Our food is probably cold by now."