Miles Apart - Sam Kiszka x OC fanfic

CHAPTER 27: DEJA VU

okay gang heres the spotify link to my sammy playlistttt: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qNB9RKkbg0R7LDa9XeskJ?si=c27ddf053929486f
TW: drugging, substance use
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Coachella came and went faster than I wanted to, but the two days I spent sleeping in Sam's room alone seemed almost too long; the hurt, guilt, and loneliness I felt pounding in my chest 24/7 were killing me. It was contradictory, really; I didn't want to see Sam, but at the same time, all I wanted was to be in his arms. I felt terrible about the way things had gone. I held myself accountable for his actions, which wasn't fair to me, but similarly if I had stood up to Santana months ago, maybe things would've gone differently. I could've helped him if I wasn't such a coward, if I'd looked past my own feelings for him, but I didn't. Instead, I let him waste away in his hotel room and evidently miss the first half of the biggest show of their lives.

Jake had sent me back home the same night me and Sam spoke, knowing that I'd fall apart the second I saw him and besides which, we'd left Pepper home alone with an empty food bowl, so I really had no choice. Lilli stayed with Jake even though I begged her to come back with me, not wanting to leave her husband at an event like Coachella; "Too many groupies want my man," she had joked.

That didn't make me feel good about leaving.

I fell asleep Saturday night knowing that my two-day-long solitude would come to an end in the dawn, and the bedroom I currently found myself mourning in would be returned to the person I'd been, in a way,  grieving. To make matters worse, I start my tour job with Greta's record label tomorrow, so there's no avoiding Sam. I wanted to be excited about both my best friend's return and the new job, but I couldn't be. I had much bigger things to worry about than materialistic fortes.

I tossed and turned as I tried to fall asleep, practically begging any form of rest to take over my stress-ridden body, but its respite refused to control me. After what felt like hours of just laying there, I opened my eyes to see that only an hour had passed. It was nearing 2 am and I needed to be well-rested for my first day, so I relied on my vices, crawling over to my bag and grabbing a half-smoked joint from inside of it.  I made my way to the corner of Sams' room, sifting through his record bin. A brown record caught my eye, the names Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young written across the top of it. I pulled it out, softly smiling as I realized why the album called to me.

"I like this song. What is it?" I questioned after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

"You don't know this song?" He gasped, being as overdramatic as he could be.

"No," I laughed, "but it's good!"

"Of course it is. It's Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. They're the pioneers of blues-rock, you uncultured swine."

I gently swatted his arm, gasping in a mocking tone.

"Whatever. Says the guy who doesn't know a single Rainbow Kitten Surprise song," I laughed. He chuckled and we resumed our peaceful quiet. I let my leg sling over his waist and pulled a blanket over us, allowing comfort to console our every worry.

I bit my lip, reminiscing on that day fondly as I put the record on. I made my way to the window, cracking it open and hopping up to sit on the frame. I knew the boys didn't care if I smoked inside, considering their house smelt like high-quality weed and amazon essential oils literally all of the time, but I personally didn't like the smell unless the boys were accompanying it. Pepper made her way over to me and jumped up to lay on the chair my feet were resting on. I leaned down and pet her before lighting up the joint, finishing off what was left of it. I gently hummed along to the song, only knowing it because Sam had played it for me before, and allowed my high to hit. The streetlights outside were nothing compared to the moon. It shone brightly, illuminating me like a spotlight on a dark stage, gleaming light into my darkest moment.

I sat there until the record finished, tossing the joint into the garbage and flipping the record to the other side as I passed the player. I grabbed Pepper and turned the lamp off, cozying myself and her under the covers. I nodded off quickly this time; the sounds of Sam's old record player and Peppers purs lulling me to sleep while Sam's scent lingering on his sheets flooded my nostrils.

I awoke mere minutes later to a dip in the bed next to me. The sky was still dark, I was still high, and the record was still playing, so I knew it hadn't been long since I passed out. Assuming the movement next to me was Pepper, I reached my hand behind me to grab her but was met with a clothed torso instead. I immediately sat up, my inebriated state not allowing for me to think to run. The person next to me shifted as I turned the lamp back on and shot around to face them. My eyes met Sams, his previously disheveled state worse than it was when I'd seen him two days back. His hair sat in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, his baby hairs meeting the hem of his knitted sweater which loosely hung off his frame. Tears escaped his eyes as his entire body shook, his arms crossed over his chest like he was protecting himself.

"Sam, is this real? Are you really here?" I whispered, placing my hand on his knee. I was higher than what I was used to, considering I was smoking Sams stuff which was very potent, and I genuinely couldn't tell if I was dreaming or not.

"I'm here," he weakly mumbled, only crying harder as he reached his hand down to meet mine, gently squeezing it.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" I questioned, completely disregarding the oath I made to myself to stay away from him until he figured himself out.

"I- I can't. Bella, help me," he sniffled, trying to regain composure.

"Come here. Tell me what's wrong," I said, lifting the blanket to let him in. He curled into me immediately, his cold frame pressing against mine like he was asking my body if he could steal its warmth. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight to stop him from shaking.

"I hurt you, didn't I?" He whispered, genuinely naive.

"Yeah, you did."

"I'm so sorry. I hurt you, I hurt Jake, I hurt Josh, I hurt Lilli. I hurt everyone I love, and I don't even remember it."

"What do you mean?" I questioned, leaning over him so that I could see his face.

"I think.. I think Santana drugged me. I agreed to do coke with her the first time, but the second time I don't know how it got into my system. I only remember hooking up with -I'm not sure- someone..... and then I remember you in my hotel room, and then I woke up this morning. Jake and Josh won't talk to me, Lilli yelled at me, and I was too scared that you wouldn't pick up to even try to call. That's why I came home early," he explained, his eyebrows furrowing as he slowly tried to piece together his past.

"She drugged you?" I nearly yelled, sitting straight up.

"I think so. I know I told her no the second time she asked me to do it, so I'm not sure how else it would've gotten into my system."

"What do you remember from before the second time you got high?" I asked, holding his hands tight inside of mine.

"I remember sitting at a bar with Danny and Mac, and then something happened but I'm not sure what, and then all of a sudden I was sitting with Santana. I think she was yelling at me for something, so I went outside to smoke, and when I came back in she was all apologetic. That's the last thing I remember, I'm sorry."

"No, Sammy. It's not your fault. God, I'm going to fucking kill her," I sighed, letting my head fall back as I closed my eyes. I was far too high to be able to comprehend anything he was saying to me.

"Bella," Sam whispered, "Can we go to sleep, please?"

"Yeah, we can go to sleep. We'll deal with everything tomorrow, okay?"

"No, I just want to move on," Sam stated, laying back down next to me. I joined him under the covers, facing him as he curled both our intertwined hands into his chest.

"Sam, I can't sit here and let her keep hurting you. You mean too much to me. You know that."

He raised his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks before resting his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

"I know. It's going to be okay," I reassured, mirroring him and letting my heavy eyelids fall shut.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know."