Jainie (spooky_cupcake) wrote in lilpinkfic, @ 2008-03-20 22:56:00 |
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Current mood: | busy |
Eidolon (1/?) - The Forest Like Her Eyes
Title: Eidolon
Summary: Sometimes it's the voice you most want to forget that screams loudest.
Fandom: The L Word
Pairing: Shane/OFC
Rating: R for language and violence
Notes: This is an L Word fic that I originally started as an AU to my Parallels series. After I gave up on Parallels (got sick of Carmen), I took the whole thing down, including Eidolon, because I just wanted to completely divorce myself from the Sharmen fic. I didn't want to have any associations with it anymore in any way, but this portion of the story was what I honestly had the most fun with, because I really had the opportunity to get really creative and really let things run on their own to see where they went. Originally, this fic was meant to be a series of Shane's recollections of her first love, but I've trimmed out the bits that tied this story to Parallels and I think it stands alone on its own quite nicely.
"And it's impossible to tell, how important someone was... and what you might have missed out on..."
Shane had known from an extremely early age that she was different but, as most children did, whether they were purposefully taught to or not, she had accepted that fact without hesitation.
It had only been much later on, when she'd been put into juvie at eleven, that she'd even heard the word 'dyke' spoken. Around her. About her. The wards had always put it another way, used another flat, harmless, inoffensive term, but she became familiar with the awkward looks that would pass between the administrators when she'd come into their offices for review. She was that girl. The strange girl. She was that Shane Michelle McCutcheon. The Shane McCutcheon who'd kissed Alyssa Roberts in the dorms after hours. The Shane McCutcheon who still held hands with girls, even though the rest of them had stopped doing that years ago, because it was kids stuff. The Shane McCutcheon who'd trailed after her pretty young counselor, Elizabeth Foster, for weeks like a puppy, begging to be loved. The same Shane who'd gotten Elizabeth fired for having been suspected of 'interfering' with her own charges. Improper conduct. All because Shane had held on to her for too long one day when she hugged her goodbye after a session.
She'd always been that girl, that Shane... that wrong, strange girl, from then on. After Elizabeth packed up her office and left, Shane ran, only to wind up getting recaptured by the state and put into yet another children's care facility. Another in a lengthening line.
Shane could feel herself smiling at the thought. For her, it had never been a question of 'am I or am I not?', as it had been with the administrators. She'd always known there was something different about her. Special, Beth had insisted. 'You're special, Shane. Not many girls know as much about themselves at my age as you do, now, at yours. That's very a special gift you have.'
Special, maybe... but not special enough to convince them to let Beth stay. Who'd listen to a kid when red tape yelled so much louder than she ever could?
With the admins and most of the girls at JVH, it had been 'is she or isn't she'... for Shane, herself, though, the question had always been... 'why should it matter?'. She never kissed a girl that didn't like her, she kept to herself and tried not to get into fights. The fights just had a way of finding her. New girls who were scared and looking for a clique to fit into, or girls who were trying to show how tough they were, by beating up the queer.
She'd learned to fight and learned to win, although she secretly hated both. One proved itself a necessity, the other was a backhanded and shameful honor, at best. Shane fought, but she hated to fight. She won, but found no pleasure or sense of triumph in winning... merely fleeting relief... and the hope that she wouldn't have to do it again... but somehow, she always did.
She remembered one fight in particular... she was fourteen, the other girl, Samantha, had been sixteen. Another new girl making yet another attempt to prove herself. Shane had beaten her squarely and soundly on the basketball court, while girls of all ages, races and backgrounds crowded around them in united purpose, cheering them both on. Shane had been smaller, more slender than Samantha, but she'd still managed to send her to the ground with a final punch that had her skinning her knees on the black asphalt, her lip split and bloodied by Shane's fist.
Samantha had looked up at her, then, eyes round with shock and humiliation. A girl two years her junior, half her weight as well as her size, had put her down, and put her down hard. Right in front of everyone.
Shane had seen the tears welling in Samantha's livid blue eyes as she struggled to push herself up off of the ground. Some of the girls around her were ruffling her hair and give her congratulatory shoves and slaps on the back, but Shane shrugged their hands off irritably, and bent down. Staring into Samantha's eyes, she reached out her hand, silently offering a truce and her help. Samantha slapped her hand away, looking at it as though she was scared of it and sickened by it all at once, as she scrambled to her feet and pushed her way through the thick circling of girls, sprinting away.
Shane dodged the clutching hands, ignored still more hands held aloft so that she could give their owners a celebratory high-five, and broke through the crowd to go and search for Samantha.
She finally found her in one of the seldom used restrooms deep in the heart of the complex... too far out of the way for most to be bothered to get to, but still functional. The dreary, cold gray light from outside filtered in through a small window set high into the wall. A line of enclosed stalls on the right hand side, a line of sinks and mirrors on the left. Shane kicked a crumpled brown paper towel out of her way as she approached Samantha, who was bent over the last sink.
“What the fuck do you want?” Samantha muttered, jerking another paper towel from the dispenser on the wall. “Leave me alone.”
“I – I ... I didn't ... I don't want anything,” Shane said softly, frowning in dismay as she watched Samantha spit out a mouthful of blood into the sink, watching it swirl red and pink down the drain. She stuffed her hands into her pockets.
“So why are you just standing there staring at me like some big freak, then?” She ground out, glowering at Shane's reflection in the mirror.
Shane winced and looked away. “I'm sorry,” she said. “That's... that's why I'm here. I wanted to say... sorry.”
“So you said it... now leave me alone,” Samantha said, the anger in her voice wavering. She pressed the paper towel to her lip, sucking in a soft, hissing breath through her teeth. “Fuck.”
“Is it bad?” Shane asked hesitantly, taking a few tentative steps towards her. “I could, um... I could take you to the nurse's office, if you want.”
“No, what I want is for you to leave me the fuck alone!” Samantha threw the bloodied towel to the ground and spun around to face her, her eyes filled with mortified tears. “Get the fuck out of here and just leave me alone!” She covered her face with her hands as she collapsed back against the sink, sobbing weakly.
It was the tears that did it. What finally caused the last of Shane's hesitation to evaporate and what got her feet moving again. She approached Samantha slowly and reached out, laying a careful hand on her shoulder. Samantha let out a soft gasp and shied away, the intensity of her sobs increasing at the innocuous touch.
“I'm not gonna hit you again,” Shane said softly. “Promise.” She placed her hands on Samantha's shoulders, grasping them gently, and drew her into her arms. Samantha went without a fuss, forehead settling into the hollow of Shane's bird-boned shoulder, her hot tears dripping onto Shane's shirt as Shane stroked soothing circles into her back. “I'm sorry I made you cry. I'm sorry I hit you.”
Samantha sniffled weakly and lifted her head up, blinking wet eyes the color of well-worn denim at her in confusion. “Why do you care?” She asked, voice raspy and thick from her tears. “Why are you being so nice to me? I tried to kick your ass.”
Shane shrugged. “I know what it's like for the new girl,” she said. She reached up and tucked a lock of lank, dishwater blond hair behind Samantha's ear and then carefully wiped away the tears staining her pale skin.
“What's your name?” Samantha asked, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at her.
“Shane,” she said quietly. “What's yours?”
“Samantha. Sam,” she said. She studied Shane quietly for a few moments and then a small, embarrassed smile quirked up her lips. “I didn't even know your name, but I still wanted to kick your ass. Stupid, huh?”
“Yeah,” Shane said with a soft chuckle. “A little.” She looked into Sam's eyes for a moment and could see the tears were finally drying. “Samantha,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “I like that. It's pretty.” Sam let out a quiet, self-conscious laugh and looked away. It wasn't until then that Shane realized that she'd actually said it out loud. She could feel her cheeks burning fiercely as she ducked her head. “Sorry,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry.”
“Thanks,” Sam said. Shane's head snapped up and she found Sam looking at her, smiling bashfully. “I... I like your eyes. You have beautiful eyes.”
“Thanks,” Shane mumbled with an awkward grin, feeling the blaze under her skin grow even hotter than before.
“You're blushing,” she whispered with a light, sweet laugh, reaching up to touch Shane's flushed cheek. Shane's eyes fell closed for a moment at that gentle touch, Sam's fingers blessedly cool and soft against her skin.
“Yeah, but you're not,” Shane whispered back, opening her eyes. It was true, Sam's cheeks were just as lovely and fair as they had been before, no hint of harried color there. Sam's hand was still touching her cheek and she felt obliged to reach out and touch Sam's in turn. “You're not blushing. Why not?” She asked, thumb lightly stroking Sam's cheek.
“I don't know,” Sam said quietly, shrugging, looking about as puzzled by her own answer as Shane felt.
“Does your lip hurt really bad?” Shane asked, her dark brows knitting together.
“It stings a little,” Sam confessed, “but it's not too bad.” She paused for a moment, looking at Shane. “Why?”
“Would it... hurt too much if I... kissed you?” She asked, eyes straying down to Sam's mouth, carefully studying the injury she'd inflicted. She heard Sam draw in a quick, shaky breath.
“I don't think it would,” Sam replied softly, breathlessly. “Do you... you wanna kiss me, Shane?” Shane nodded her head slowly, while at the same time inwardly bracing herself. “Say something,” she whispered, gently encouraging, faint amusement coloring her words.
Shane licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I do. I really do,” she said, reluctantly lifting her eyes up to look into Sam's. “Um... would that be okay? Do you want me to?”
Sam looked away, frowning thoughtfully for a moment and Shane could almost see the gears turning. “Yeah,” she said finally, her tone sure and decisive. “I'd really like that.”
“You're not... grossed out?” Shane asked. “Before, you said I was a ... a freak.”
“I don't think you're a freak,” Sam said quietly, face pinched guiltily. “I was just pissed. I – I didn't really mean that. I'm so sorry I called you that.”
“It's okay,” she murmured, thumb still lightly stroking Sam's cheek. “Samantha... can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied, a soft smile shaping her lips as she nodded, eyes twinkling. “You can kiss me.”
“Okay,” Shane said, returning the smile as she finally felt the blush on her cheeks fading away. She carefully cupped Sam's cheek and leaned in slowly, their eyes remaining open and fixed on each other's. Just as their eyes closed, though, and Shane's lips just brushed against Sam's, she felt Sam's free hand grasping her shoulder.
“Oh, god, wait a minute,” Sam whispered. “What if somebody catches us?”
“Nobody ever comes down here,” Shane said softly under her breath as she lifted her head up to meet Sam's eyes again. “But we don't have to, if you don't --”
Sam darted in before she could finish speaking, pressing her lips to Shane's in a light, careful touch. Shane shivered, a soft noise of surprise escaping her throat as she returned the kiss. She tilted her head to one side just slightly and parted her lips to deepen the kiss, ever mindful of Sam's injured lip. She reached up, palm sliding up to cup Sam's other cheek, cradling her face gently in her hands. Sam's hands settled on Shane's chest, fingers curled lightly over her shoulders, the soft, sweet hum of her delighted laughter bouncing off the tiled walls and ceiling.
Shane drew back reluctantly, eyes blinking open to focus on Sam's face. Her eyes were still closed and she had a small smile on her face. “Are you laughing at me?” She asked softly, her tone wary.
“What?” Sam opened her eyes and favored Shane with a perplexed look. “No. Why would I do that?”
“I... I don't know,” Shane said, suddenly feeling awkward.
Sam reached up and curled her fingers around the back of Shane's neck, gently pulling her back in, Shane's forehead resting against hers. She stroked Shane's long, shaggy hair with steady, reassuring sweeps. “I wouldn't do that,” she whispered sincerely. “I wouldn't do that to you, Shane. I liked it. It was... really nice.” She blinked and drew back, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “How old are you, anyway? For real.”
“Fourteen,” she replied quietly. “My birthday's in a couple more months.” A puzzled crease formed between Shane's brows as she looked at her. “Why?”
“Oh, my god, are you serious? You're, like, total jailbait,” Sam said with a dumbfounded laugh. Shane's frown deepened as she felt the sting of the off-hand remark, her cheeks heating again with embarrassment. “You shouldn't know how to kiss like that already.”
“Sorry,” Shane murmured as she drew her hands back away from Sam's face, tucking them into her pockets again as she began to back up. “I'll just – I'll go.” She ducked her head, eyes casting about for the nearest hole she could climb into, but none appeared to be making themselves available for her. So she'd just have to use the door.
“No, Shane, wait – what did I say?” Sam asked, immediately contrite, her fingers scrabbling to catch hold of the front of Shane's t-shirt, temporarily bringing her retreat to a screeching halt. “I'm sorry. Whatever it was, I didn't mean it. Please, don't go.”
“Look, if you don't want me to kiss you again, then I won't,” Shane said softly.
“Wait, what? What are you talking about? Did I say that?” She asked, eyes squinting at her in confusion. “I didn't say that.”
“You said I shouldn't know how to kiss like that already,” she replied, eyes fixed on the toes of her grubby sneakers. “I thought...”
“Oh, god,” Sam sighed raggedly. “Shane.” She gave her t-shirt a tug, trying to get Shane to look at her. “Shane.” She finally used her hand hold to reel Shane in towards her again, the soles of her sneakers squeaking along the dirty tiles as she stumbled forward. “Look at me,” she said quietly. “Look at me? Please?” Shane finally lifted her head and did so, albeit reluctantly, jumping just slightly as Sam placed a hand on her cheek. “I didn't mean it like that,” she said. “I just meant... I don't know... it was nice. It was really, really nice and I just... I just didn't expect you to know how to kiss like that, okay? I just didn't.” She sighed, her hand slipping down to rest on Shane's shoulder while the other one still clutched a fistful of Shane's shirt. “But that doesn't mean I wanted you to stop,” she whispered, meeting Shane's eyes.
“You... you don't – didn't want me to?” Shane stammered, eyes roving over Sam's face, carefully trying to pinpoint any tics that might give away any telltale signs of deceitfulness... but there were none.
“I don't,” Sam said, her face and voice calm and certain as she brushed Shane's wispy bangs out of her eyes with the tips of her fingers.
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” Shane asked, reaching up a hand to touch her own lips, indicating Sam's split one.
“No,” she said, a small, warm smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Like I said, it stings a little, but it's not so bad.” She arched her eyebrows, shooting a worried look at Shane. “Is -- is it gross? I mean, like, all bloody and stuff?”
“A little bloody,” Shane said, “but it's not gross.” She shrugged, a faint grin quirking her lips. “I don't mind, if you don't.”
Sam chuckled, her bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “I don't mind,” she murmured.
“Okay,” she said softly, the small grin making way for a genuine, pleased smile.
“Kiss me again, Shane?” Sam asked sweetly, giving the front of her t-shirt a playful tug as she looked at her, eyes gleaming with hope. “Promise I won't laugh this time.”
So Shane kissed her... and, true to her word, Sam didn't laugh.
They tried to wait until after Shane's birthday, but they were both so happy and exhilarated to have finally found a 'like' soul amidst all the 'different', they fell just short of the mark and Shane lost her virginity with Sam, just two days shy of her fifteenth birthday. Huddled away together in the farthest stall, it had been fumbling and sweet and awkward, but still no less perfect in spite of all of its imperfections.
Shane knew that the setting and circumstances had left a lot to be desired, for Sam, but they both knew the innerworkings of the place well enough to know that there was no other way it ever could have worked. There were administrators constantly monitoring them, walking the halls and keeping a close eye out in the dorms, especially at night. The patrols were frequent and gave them time for little else apart from their individual escapes from their respective dorms.
They both also knew that any girls that were caught in bed with each other were usually put into single-bed isolation rooms for as long as a month, sometimes, depending on the severity of the infraction. They were allowed no contact with the other girls and received daily counselling in addition to their usual coursework. Shane had been caught and had undergone that particular punishment twice before she'd met Sam, but if anything, it had served to further stoke the fires of rebellion and defiance in her rather than quell them.
Even though she knew from first-hand knowledge what the consequences would be if she was caught again, Shane never regretted a single moment she spent with Sam. Every stolen kiss meant arriving late to another class and another detention, every lingering touch goodbye put them a bit futher towards the back of the line at lunch, every embrace providing another opportunity for them to be discovered. The secrecy, the risk of getting caught, however, were negligible and incidental thrills in the face of the delicate new thing they had begun to build with each other.
The run-down and abandoned girls' room became their haven, their sanctuary. The place they could sneak off to at night after lights out – or for brief, clandestine encounters during the day - to talk and reconnect and make their plans... and they both had an endless supply of them.
Shane and Sam... Sam and Shane... the strange girls with boy's names. One, a positively angelic, bright-eyed girl-next-door with steel and shattered glass running through her veins, the other a soft-spoken, solemnly dark beauty with a carefully guarded sweetness and vulnerability that only one other person was ever permitted to see. They were as confounding a vision to behold, as a pair, as they were arresting.
Shane was like Sam's shadow, a darker reflection, silently walking shoulder-to-shoulder with her down the halls, trailing her like a shade in the PE fields at the back of the school during free period.
They were, for all intents and purposes, inseparable. To the rest of the girls, they existed as a united, impassive, and wholly impenetrable front.
For the first time, since she'd been put into the system at ten, Shane finally had someone who would watch her back and had someone she would defend as swiftly and passionately as she had defended herself alone in the past. For the most part, they kept to themselves, their communication composed of the simplest looks and nods, saving their breath for each other. On the rare occasion that a girl might get it into her head to hassle Shane, Sam was there to make herself the obstacle they would have to get through in order to reach her. They would glance at Shane, and then Sam, and just one look into her steely, cornflower blue eyes was enough to make them realize just how pointless it would be to try anything. The first few times it happened, Shane had been in awe of Sam's strength and had only just barely restrained herself from taking Sam into her arms and showing her just how much she appreciated Sam's protective streak.
After a while, though, when Sam would return to Shane's side, Shane would merely smile at her and shake her head, eyes twinkling with mirth. But she wasn't laughing at Sam so much as she was laughing at the girls who still thought they could take the both of them on. Because, in truth, if there had been a girl determined or just plain crazy enough to get at Shane, she would have had to get through Sam and then she'd find Shane waiting for her once Sam was done. They were both perfectly capable of defending themselves as well as each other, but they had long since promised each other that they would never double-team or fight dirty, as so many of the other girls did.
On the extremely rare occasion that they did get into a scuffle, they made quick, clean work of their opponents, moving in effortless tandem. Most times, almost as soon as the fight would begin, it would be over. Shane would extend her hand, in much the same way that she had to Samantha that day, to their defeated classmate, but most times the other girl would just stare at her, completely mystified. Some would take her hand, some didn't, but either way, it was never spoken of again and they would keep their distance from Shane and Sam from that point on.
“Are they scared of us?” Shane asked Sam one day. They were tucked down into a grimy, darkened corner of the restroom, a blanket draped around the both of them as they sat side by side on another. The sky had been threatening rain all day and finally, in the late lull of Saturday afternoon, it had followed through on its threat, casting down torrential rains on the complex.
“I don't know,” Sam said, dropping light kisses along the side of Shane's face. “What do you think?”
“I think they are,” she replied quietly, frowning, even as she leaned into the touches, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Does that bother you?” Sam asked, settling her arms and the blanket more securely around the both of them. “I mean, they leave us alone.”
“I know,” Shane said. “But... I hate fighting, you know that.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh, resting her head atop Shane's. “But we're doing what we have to do. I'm not gonna just stand there and let some bitch pound on you because she's flunking out of chemistry or because she got some wild hair.”
“I don't want anybody to be afraid of me, Samantha,” Shane said softly. She hesitated for a moment and then lifted her head to look up at Sam, brows knitted together. “Are you ever afraid of me?”
“No... god, no,” Sam whispered, her voice warm and soothing as her arms wound around Shane's neck. She pressed a kiss to the top of Shane's head. “I'm so proud of you. I know how hard it is on you. I know you don't like having to hurt people.”
“I don't,” she said. “I hate it.”
“You just do what you have to,” Sam said. “So do I. It sucks, but we'll get out of here. We'll get out of here and we'll go to California and there'll be no CPS, no administrators always watching everything we do. It'll be us. Just you and me.”
“Yeah,” Shane said, her brooding expression smoothly replaced by a bright, excited smile as she shifted about and laid down, resting her head in Sam's lap. Of all of their daydreams, California was a favorite for both of them. “California's gonna be great.”
“Yep,” Sam said, a matching smile shaping her own lips as she ran her fingers through Shane's hair as she leaned her head back against the tiled wall. “So did you finally decide?”
“I don't know,” she said and looked up at Sam, thumb resting against her bottom lip as she worried at it pensively. “Something cool?”
“Well, yeah,” she laughed, "but what? You can't just go to the employment office and say 'hi, I'd like to apply for one of your cool jobs, please'. You love to read. Maybe you could be... I don't know, like a writer or something.”
“No,” Shane replied quietly. “Nobody'd want to read what I have to say.”
“How do you know that?” Sam asked, giving a lock of her hair a reproving tug. “You're really smart, Shane. You can do whatever you want.” She smoothed her hand over the top of Shane's head, her touch once again gentle. “What do you wanna do?”
“I'd like to do something ... that's nice for people,” Shane murmured. “Like... something that makes them feel better about themselves.”
“What, you mean like one of those motivational speakers?” Sam asked, giving her a worried look.
“No, no,” Shane laughed. “Not like that. Just... something good.” She shrugged. “I don't know.”
“I wanna surf,” Sam said decisively, “and learn how to play volley ball. The real thing. Not all lame like the way they make us play in PE, on those stupid blue mats. On real sand.”
“Surfer girl,” she said quietly, grinning up at her. “You'd look so hot in a bikini. And I could come and watch your matches and cheer you on from the bleachers.”
“You definitely could,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “Your name would be on the list, at the very top. Always.”
“So you really wanna do that? The whole 'extreme sports' thing?” Shane asked, quirking a curious eyebrow at her.
“Yeah! Why not? You don't think I could do it?” Sam said, arching an expectant eyebrow at Shane in return.
“You could totally do it,” Shane said with a smile. “You'll be famous, someday, and I'll get to say to people, 'I knew her'.”
“You won't have to say that,” she said, giving Shane's hair another tug. “Because you're gonna be there, right next to me.”
“Yeah?” she said softly, a small, bashful smile touching her lips.
“Absolutely,” Sam replied. She slipped her hand underneath Shane's neck, gently lifting her head up off of her lap. She shifted and the two of them settled down on the floor together, Sam's head resting on Shane's chest. “Wherever I go, you're going with me. That's just how it's gonna be.” She let out a contented sigh as she closed her eyes. “On the bus for tournaments, in my limo...”
“When did you get a limo?” Shane asked, chuckling as she felt Sam's fingers tickling at her side. She reached down and caught Sam's hand, stilling her mischievous fingers and entwining them with her own.
“Right after I signed my big deal with Nike,” Sam said, grinning. “We have to figure out what you can do. C'mon, Shane, what do you wanna do?”
“Sam, I don't know,” she said with an exasperated laugh as she blew the wisps of her bangs out of her eyes with a carefully aimed puff of breath from one corner of her mouth.
“Actress?”
“No way. I couldn't memorize all that stuff.”
“Shane, that's such bullshit. You're making A's in all of your classes, you big liar,” Sam said, poking at her. “You can memorize stuff just fine... and... you're beautiful, Shane. Really. Totally gorgeous.”
“Sam,” Shane sighed.
“Okay, okay... so actress is out. Writing is out. You sure you don't wanna learn how to surf?”
“Ha. No,” she chuckled. “Can you picture me on a surfboard? Seriously?”
“Mmmm... no. You're right. No surfing or volley ball for you,” Sam replied. She chewed thoughtfully on her lip. “Oh, hey, wait... you said you wanna do something for people? Something nice?” She lifted her head up and looked at Shane.
“Yeah,” Shane said.
“What about doing hair? Like... hair and makeup and stuff?” Sam said, smiling brightly, excited by the prospect. “I mean, people go to to a beauty salon and when they come out, they usually feel really good about themselves, if the chick does her job right. Right?”
“I guess,” she said with a shrug as she considered the idea. “Do you think I could do it?”
“Why not?” Sam said. “I told you, you can do anything you want... and I don't just mean in your head, Shane. For real. You could do it.” She rested her chin on Shane's chest, gazing steadily into her eyes. “It doesn't always have to be dreams that are never gonna happen. You could really have that.”
“Okay, so I'll go to LA and do hair and you can go play volley ball... on real sand,” Shane said, grinning. Sam let out a happy laugh and leaned up, catching Shane's mouth in a kiss.
“That's what we'll do,” Sam said, chasing her first kiss with another and another until Shane could no longer keep up and was finally overwhelmed with kisses, laughing as the two of them lolled about together on the blankets.
And it was those plans and promises that they hung on to for two years, even when things were at their worst. Which, with the arrival of Natasha Forrester, things quickly became for the both of them. Tasha set her sights on Shane, as all the new girls did, but unlike the other girls, Tasha had been in the system even longer than Shane and Sam had.
One of the girls who worked as an assistant in the main office had taken a look at Tasha's records and her findings had spread like wildfire throughout the facility. She'd been in foster homes since the age of two years old after having been neglected, severely abused and abandoned by her junkie parents. She'd been placed with fifteen different foster families, had run away from each and every one, and had been shuttled back and forth between five different detention facilities in the state. All of this, and she had only just turned sixteen.
To introduce herself, Tasha had slunk up to Shane as she'd been changing classes. She'd heard from the other girls about Shane and Sam and how they looked out for one another and made sure to catch her on her own. Before Shane even realized what was happening, or had a chance to attempt to defend herself, she was slammed face-first into a locker and then dragged, stunned, into a nearby broom closet. A few well-placed punches was all it took, leaving Shane in a crumpled heap at Tasha's feet, blood spattering on Tasha's sneakers as she coughed and gasped for breath.
The attack had been brutal, brief, almost surgical in its precision, and completely premeditated. Shane couldn't remember ever being more scared of a single person in her entire life.
Sam had caught wind of the attack after the fact, having heard that someone had kicked the queer girl's ass and left her unconscious in the custodian's supply room. She asked for the bathroom pass and rushed to the nurse's office, finding Shane sitting just inside, her face a bruised and bloody mess. Her right eye was bruised and had swelled shut, there were thick smears of blood around her nostrils, her lip split and bleeding, most of the other half of her face concealed by the cloth she held over another wound.
“Oh, my god,” Sam gasped as she crouched down beside her, tears filling her eyes. She was afraid to even try to touch her, because she had no idea of the extent of her injuries. “Shane... baby, what happened to you?”
“Tasha,” Shane rasped out, covering her mouth and turning her head away as she coughed, the sound a rough, painful rattle in her throat. “Jumped me.”
Sam glanced down and could see the beginnings of bruises around Shane's right wrist. Bruises in the shape of four fingers. She reached out, fingertips barely grazing the spot, and Shane jumped, sucking in a soft, hissing breath. “I gotta do something,” she whispered.
“No,” Shane said. As badly beaten and exhausted as she was, she still managed to speak up and speak the word firmly. “You can't, Sam.”
“She could have fucking killed you,” she said, rocking back helplessly on her heels. “She can't get away with this. I can't let her.”
“You can't. Sam, please, don't... it's too dangerous,” Shane pleaded, wincing as she drew the bloody cloth away from her face, revealing a nasty gash along her left cheek. “I'll just take off, okay? She's not like the rest. She's not gonna stop until I'm dead. You know it. This was just her saying hello. Do you really want to see what happens when she gets going for real?”
“Oh, god,” Sam whimpered, leaning forward to rest her head on Shane's knee. “Where are you gonna go? How can you even get out?”
“I know a way,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even, although tears were welling in her own eyes. “There's an assembly in a few days. I can sneak out then. Scale the fence. By the time they let you guys out, I'll be gone.”
“Shane, no,” she whispered, clutching at Shane's hand. “There's gotta be some other way.” Shane shook her head and Sam could feel disappointment and panic settling in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight. She lifted her head and looked up at Shane. “Then let me come with you. You can't go like this, all by yourself.”
“I'll be fine,” Shane said quietly, squeezing her hand. “She didn't break anything. It looks worse than it is. I promise, I can make it.”
“Where are you gonna go?” Sam asked, a tear creeping down her cheek. “You don't have any money.”
“I can hitch,” she said with a shrug. Shane reached up and tenderly wiped away Sam's tears with the backs of her fingers. “In two or three days, maybe a little longer, I'll be in California. I can call you when I get there.”
“I wanted to go with you,” Sam murmured, her voice threaded with disappointment as she reached up to clasp Shane's hand and bring it to her mouth, pressing a firm kiss to the back of it.
“If it looks like Tash is gonna come after you, then you come to me, okay? I don't care if you think you can handle her or not,” Shane said. She cupped Sam's cheek and drew her head up gently so that she could look into her eyes. “Okay?”
Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she said, letting the breath out in a shaky sigh.
“Promise me, Samantha,” Shane insisted, dark green eyes boring into her intently.
“I promise! I promise,” Sam replied, covering Shane's hand with hers, pressing her face into Shane's palm. “Okay? I promise. I don't want to, but I promise.”
“We don't have a choice, this time,” she said with a weary, resigned sigh, thumb lightly stroking Sam's skin. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Sam's forehead, Sam bowing her head to the light touch. “Just think about California, baby,” she whispered. “Just you and me on the beach.”
“Yeah,” Sam said in a tiny voice, sniffling.
“It's gonna happen,” Shane said. “You believe me?”
“Yeah, I do,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I believe you.”
“Come here,” Shane whispered, hooking her arm around Sam's neck and pulling her in close. Sam buried her face in Shane's shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with broken sobs as she clung to her. “As soon as I get there, I'll get a job. That way, I can save up enough money to buy you a bus ticket or something.” She leaned her head against Sam's, hand smoothing up and down Sam's back in long, soothing passes. “It won't take me that long. You'll wake up one morning and all you'll be able to smell is the salt in the air. It'll be like all of this never happened. I promise.”
“I wish I could go with you,” Sam managed, her voice thick with tears. “I wanna go with you.”
“I know,” she said softly, hand stroking over Sam's long, blond hair. “You just can't.”
“I know,” she whispered back, the words overwhelmed by a fresh flood of tears.
Shane rocked her gently back and forth, unable to find any more words of comfort or reassurance for her that her own hands couldn't provide just as easily. The assembly would be in three days and Shane would just have to try to keep out of Tasha's way until then. She knew she could manage at least one more day sleeping in the infirmary, but no more than that. The rest of her time would have to be devoted to packing and planning.
A couple of days later, after Shane was released from the infirmary, she was looking better but wasn't feeling any better about her plan. She knew it was what she had to do, even though she and Sam had always planned on taking the trip to California together. The disappointment on Sam's face, in her eyes, was almost more than Shane could stand, but she knew that if she didn't leave now, the next time Tasha moved on her, she'd be dead... and Sam would have to make the trip to California on her own, with no one waiting there for her.
Shane met Sam in their usual place, and Sam had presented her with a large, olive-drab back pack. Sam's last name, Barrett, was stenciled on the front flap of the bag in large, block letters and she'd explained to Shane that the bag had belonged to her father when he'd been in the army. She'd crammed all of her things into it when she'd run away from home and had hung onto it just in case.
“I want you to take this, okay,” she said, laying the empty pack in Shane's lap. “You're gonna need it.”
“Sam, I can't take this, it was your dad's,” Shane said, shooting her a disapproving look. “I don't even have this much stuff.”
“So take some of my stuff with you,” Sam suggested quietly with a shrug. “Just use it, okay? I hate this stupid, fucked up plan, but I just... I have to do something.” She glanced over at Shane, a strained, helpless expression on her face. “Okay? Just -- please, Shane, just take it.”
Shane reached out and took her hand. “Okay,” she said, giving Sam's fingers a gentle squeeze. Releasing her hand, she slipped her arm around Sam's shoulders and Sam settled against her side, head resting on her shoulder. “I'll do everything I can, okay,” she whispered. “I hate it that you're not going with me, but I'll do everything I can to get you out there with me as soon as I can. I promise.”
“Yeah,” Sam said quietly, reaching for Shane's other hand, toying idly with her fingertips. “I'm gonna miss you so much.”
“Hey, you won't have time to miss me,” Shane replied. “That's how fast you're gonna get to California.”
“Then I miss you already,” she whispered, nestling her face in the hollow of Shane's throat as she slipped her arm around Shane's neck.
--
With Sam's pack slung over her slim shoulders, Shane scaled the fence a little less than twenty-four hours later, just as planned, the rest of the girls in the facility gathered together in the auditorium for the assembly. She'd slipped out as all of the classes had been lining up to head to the auditorium and hurried to her dorm to collect her things. The highway was just up the hill and beyond some trees and she knew she'd be able to hitch a ride with someone if she held her thumb out for long enough. She swung her right leg over the top of the fence and hooked the toe of her sneaker into the chainlink to steady herself as she pulled her left leg over and dropped down, her sneakers touching free soil for the first time in almost three years.
“Shane!”
Shane turned back and found Sam running up to the fence, her fingers curling into the chainlink. “Sam, what the hell are you doing? Somebody's gonna see you,” she whispered, looking past her to check for any signs that Sam might have been followed.
“I had to say goodbye,” Sam said, bouncing anxiously on her feet as she glanced over her shoulder, also checking to make sure the coast was clear. “I couldn't just let you go without saying goodbye.” She hurriedly waved a beckoning hand at her. “Come here. Please?”
“Sam,” she sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself as she trudged back up to the fence. Sam hooked her finger into collar of Shane's t-shirt when she was close enough and reeled her in, the two of them negotiating a soft, lingering kiss through the fence, the cold metal pressing against their faces.
“I love you,” Sam whispered when their lips parted. “I love you so much, Shane.”
Shane let out a ragged sigh and rested her forehead against the fence, eyes closing as her fingers curled around Sam's where they were hooked into the links. “Samantha,” she said softly. After a moment, she lifted her head and opened her eyes, a warm smile touching her lips. “I love you.”
Sam smiled at her brightly, eyes shining with tears as she leaned in for one last kiss, which Shane was only too happy to give her.
“I'll call as soon as I get there,” Shane promised as she reluctantly backed away, fingers straying over Sam's as she did so, hanging on to that minute bit of contact for as long as she possibly could. “Be safe.”
“I will,” Sam said, nodding. “Watch yourself out there, okay?” She cast another quick glance over her shoulder. “Shit, I gotta go. The assembly's gonna let out any minute.”
“Okay, go,” Shane said as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt. Sam turned and started jogging back in the direction of the complex, blond hair bouncing around her shoulders. “I love you, Samantha,” she called after her retreating form.
“I love you!” Sam called back happily, laughing as she began running in earnest, her steps seeming somehow lighter, even in the face of the bittersweet goodbyes they had just shared.
Shane watched her until she could no longer make Sam out in the distance and then finally turned and started off on her own way, determinedly trying to burn the image of Sam's face, her smile, into her mind so that she could hang on to it. She had no idea how long it would be before she saw Samantha again, but she knew that she would keep her promise. Whatever it took to get Sam out of the detention center and in California with her as soon as possible, that's what she'd do.