Chapter Text
Prompt: Heater
Cold
Brooke can't remember exactly how she got here, but she's never felt this alive before. She's bleeding into the road, the night air is cool against her face, and the world around her is so perfectly focused the sharpness almost blinds her.
There's a car horn sounding in the distance, along with a hurried chatter of conversation. Somewhere nearby there's a scream, and Brooke thinks it might be Sam, but her face is pointed skyward and her head refuses to move. Strangely, there's no pain. There's only the cold, seeping through the asphalt and past her ragged dress. She feels light too, like the softest breeze could lift her away, yet she can't make herself stand.
"Brooke!" It is Sam. "Does it hurt?"
Brooke can't answer, can't even shake her head, but now that Sam's here, she doesn't need to. There are hands running over her, looking for injuries, and every touch is like an open flame.
The brunette is in view now, shaking mouth and tears running down her face. Far above, twinkling points of light surround Sam's head like some dancing halo. And a lone star shoots across the sky, but it’s prom night and Sam is already here with her, so Brooke doesn't need any wishes. Even the cold is fading. Instead, she closes her eyes, sinks into Sam's arms, and turns towards the warmth.
“Please don’t die, Brooke.”
Prompt: High
Mood Swings
Early morning, and Sam's fuming. Brooke's hogging the bathroom, they’re both shouting over the sound of the shower, and Sam's never been more excited in her life. When the door finally opens, Brooke smiles; and Sam's heart flutters, but she doesn't think about that as she pushes past the blonde.
Because of Brooke, Sam's late to school that day. When she gets there, class has already started and she has to sneak to her desk. Brooke is chatting with Josh, Nicole hovering nearby, and Sam can't help the sinking feeling in her stomach. She tries not to think about that either, because they're not even friends, so it shouldn't matter anyway.
At lunchtime, they cross paths in the hall, and Sam can't look away. Brooke's eyes sparkle, and Sam is sky high. She doesn't understand this at all. Part of her hates the mood swings, hates that her own temperament is somehow tied to Brooke's mercurial one.
So it's not really her fault that she makes a sarcastic remark about Brooke's hair. Sam's never stopped to ponder why fights are exhilarating, why she says things sometimes just to get a rise out of Brooke. Because she's happy, in a twisted kind of way, when Brooke's focus is completely on her. Sometimes, when their faces are inches apart yelling at the top of their lungs, the words roll right by and Sam feels like she's flying.
Prompt: Jump
Waiting on the Edge
To Sam, it feels like she's been waiting all her life to make this leap. The timing just never seemed right. First there was Josh, and Harrison; then George, and Harrison again; and then Nicole's drunken rage. And even after all that was behind them, they ended up rooming together through college, and that would've been way too awkward.
Now they're both grown up and out living their lives. It's Thanksgiving weekend and Mac's gone off with their parents to the store. It's only the two of them, alone in this house that used to be home, staring over the dining table that was the battleground for so many arguments.
Sam is the first to move, to get Brooke a chair, because she knows Brooke's hip hurts if she stands too long. "Thank you," the blonde says, and just the force of her smile is almost enough to make Sam jump.
This shouldn’t be hard. Because even though they don’t actually see each other often, they still talk every other day. They talk about anything and everything, except for boyfriends and why neither of them ever has one anymore. Lately, they talk a lot about love too, but only in vague non-specific terms.
So when Brooke takes her hand, Sam stops thinking and steps off the edge. She closes her eyes because it’s too scary to watch. When their lips meet, it’s not explosive or earth-shattering, just quiet – gentle – and nothing like either of them imagined.
Prompt: Snow
Ordinary Lies
The day that Sam started being honest with herself was the day she started lying to Brooke.
Sam doesn’t like lying. She understands that sometimes lies can be necessary, but she still thinks it’s better to avoid them out of principle. That’s why she’s not sure how it’s so easy lying to Brooke in this case, because she wants to tell the truth. She wants to tell very much. It’s just that the truth is embarrassing, and maybe a little scary, so she pretends she’s justified in lying.
“Why are you going to Michigan?” Brooke thought they would go to the same college. They’re supposed to be friends now, right?
“I think I’d like the snow,” Sam lies. And she can’t be Brooke’s friend, because she wishes it were so much more.
Prompt: Thanks
Everyday Kisses
They've never talked about the kissing, not to each other, and definitely not to anyone else. Not even when it started happening more and more often. Sometimes, one of them would say something particularly witty, or nice, and there was always a quick peck to follow it. The first time that Brooke managed to stand on her own, Sam was so giddy she kissed her until Brooke’s legs almost gave out from the strain.
After that, the new school year started, and Sam wasn’t around the hospital as much. She still visited every day though, and they would sit together in the evening to work on Sam’s homework. Every night, before leaving, Sam would make sure Brooke had something to do the next day, then brush their lips together gently. “Goodnight, Brooke.”
By the time November rolled around, the doctors told Brooke she could be home for Thanksgiving. She’d have crutches, of course, and the wheelchair just in case, but they could send her home as soon she was able to move short distances. Still, the prospect was a little scary. Here in the hospital, she and Sam had something untouchable. Because even among all the doctors and nurses and occasional visits from others, most of the time, it felt like it was just the two of them, alone in the world.
So it was Brooke’s last night in the hospital when she finally cracked, gave in and talked about something of consequence for the first time in weeks. Sam sat beside her, leaning on Brooke’s shoulder and playing with her fingers. Their parents were waiting downstairs for Sam, and they would all be back the next morning to take Brooke home.
“Goodnight Brooke,” Sam said, like she always did, before getting up and smoothing down Brooke’s hair.
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“What happens tomorrow? Do things just go back to the way they were before?” Part of her was afraid of the answer, afraid that everything that had happened since she’d woken up was a dream, a timeout from the world before they went back to just being friends, or worse yet, fighting. She tried to turn away when Sam hesitated, but the hands on her shoulders were insistent.
“Do you think they could?”
“No.”
“Do you want them to?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Brooke could only nod at that, her mouth suddenly dry, but Sam went ahead and pressed their lips together anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Brooke.”
November 2008 - January 2020