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The Upside To Being Terrified
By Redlance


A loud, blood curdling, bone chilling scream filled her ears. It was the sound of fear, total undiluted terror. A scream of someone wanting desperately to get away from something. Or someone. She ran, though Sam knew deep down it was futile. He would be faster somehow, she would trip like they always did. He was so calm, he didn't even run. It would have infuriated her, if she hadn't been so distracted. Another scream, as the inevitable fall came and he caught up easily. He bent to grab at her foot. She tried kicking with the other, but he just kept pulling her towards him. There was the glint of a knife in the moonlight and it was over with a final, gurgling moan, as blood spurted out of her mouth as she coughed.

Beside her, Brooke practically had the entire blanket pulled over her head, making Sam wonder if she could even see the movie they were watching.

"Is it over?" The blonde choked out in a whisper. Sam couldn't contain the chuckle.

"Yes." Brooke dropped one corner of the blanket and peeked at the television just in time to see the killer's hand shatter a window and grab another helpless teenager. She screamed louder than the previous victim and slapped a now howling Sam hard on the shoulder, her head disappearing back behind the blanket.

"You knew that was going to happen!!" Brooke accused, voice muffled beneath the quilt. Sam, clutching at her stomach and still unable to control her laughter, shook her head.

"I don't have ESP, Brooke. I haven't seen this movie before, so there's no possible way I could have known that was coming." She paused, a smirk slowly breaking through her mask of faux innocence. "Except there's usually a very easy formula to follow when it comes to horror movies, and I totally knew that was going to happen." Brooke abandoned her safe haven, grabbing a cushion from the couch and deftly smacking Sam in the face with it once before she could say any more, then tossed the cushion across the room far out of the other girl's reach.

"You." Brooke said, dangerously. "Are not nice." Sam gasped at that, then snapped her jaw shut with an audible 'click' and shook her head.

"I resent that. I'm very nice."

"I thought I was gonna pee my pants." Was the mumbled, miserable reply.

"I'm letting you watch this with me, aren't I?" Hazel eyes rolled in an obvious exaggerated motion. Sam shoved her in the shoulder, chuckling. "Just watch the damn movie, Brooke."

In unison, their attentions turned once more to the gruesome events before them. Someone was being hacked into tiny bite-sized pieces, and though it was impossible to tell who it was now, Brooke flinched and looked away regardless of whether or not she'd grown to like the character.

"How can you sit there like that?" Brooke asked, peaking at Sam again distastefully. Sam was actually snickering at the T.V. Snickering as the remains continued to be sliced until the killer finally seemed to get bored and moved on to find his next victim.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Like this doesn't phase you in the slightest!" Sam shrugged.

"It doesn't. Sorry to disappoint B, but scary movies just don't get my heart hammering. I find them kind of silly." They fell into silence after that. Sam briefly pondered what exactly did get her heart hammering. Brooke was able to concentrate on the movie a little more since all it seemed to be for the moment was teenage drama and examples of how to exercise teenage hormones. It made her a little twitchy, seeing half naked bodies writhing around on a bed, seemingly lost in the throws of passion. She could have blamed the uneasiness on the fact that they, consumed by rampant teen horniness, had no idea that the killer lurked just outside the room, watching them. She could have, but she would have been lying. Blatantly, to cover up the real reason. The one she tried valiantly to stay away from. One she was sitting far, far too close to. She could feel Sam's torso rumble every time she laughed. It was idiotically unpleasant, the feelings caused by watching what was happening on screen in conjunction with sitting beside a girl who, against her better judgement, made her stupid heart flutter like a butterfly who'd just gained wings and was desperate to try them out. Irrational. Yet oddly enjoyable, though she'd never admit to that.

Her musings were interrupted by the, she assumed, girlfriend of the very enthusiastic guy suddenly letting out a shrill scream. The killer was suddenly grabbing at the boyfriend's hair, attempting to pull him off her and bringing his shining knife to the boy's throat. Which made Brooke yelp in surprise and jump about three feet in the air.

Sam snorted, actually snorted, unable to control herself. She let out wave after wave of laughter, grabbing at her stomach beneath the blanket again. Brooke's cheeks coloured, but she looked more angry than embarrassed by her outburst.

"This crap really doesn't scare you?" The question was really more of a demand. Brooke was fuming and it did nothing but amuse Sam more. "Why do you even watch them?"

"Tssk." Sam chided, tilting her head towards Brooke. "You really shouldn't call things names just because you're mad at them." She smiled and Brooke felt her annoyance melt into a pout. "And no, it really doesn't. Which provides me with the perfect opportunity to watch other people be freaked out." Brooke grumbled something unintelligible under her breath, dropping her eyes away from Sam.

They fell back into silence. Brooke jumping in all the right places, while Sam tried to contain her amusement for the sake of peace. She found it grew easier with each passing second. Beneath the blanket, she'd noticed how close Brooke's hand was to hers. With Sam in the position she was, her hand rested naturally next to her thigh on the plush sofa cushions. However, she'd assessed fairly quickly that if she were in Brooke's current position, with her legs pulled up to her chest, both of her hands should probably be clutching the blanket to her face. As it was, the cheerleader was only using one of her hands for that task. Sam's attention had quickly disengaged itself from the movie once she'd realised this.

She wasn't stupid or slow to pick up on things. Not usually anyway. She was painfully aware of her changing relationship with Brooke, even more so of her inability to do anything about it. She didn't even know where to begin. She knew Brooke was in the same boat as her, could feel it every time she looked at her, and even though the blonde was more experienced in the relationship department, she hadn't made any kind of move either. So they had been spending most of their time dancing around each other. Making teasing comments, seeing how far boundaries could be pushed until one of them got freaked out and turned tail until the next time the opportunity for teasing arose.

The killer popped out of a closet to grab a hold of yet another unsuspicious teen. Brooke jumped slightly, though considerably less than before, and Sam's breath got caught somewhere in her chest as their pinkie fingers brushed together. The brunette wondered how much concentration Brooke was using up on the movie when she didn't attempt to remove her hand and put an end to the contact. Sam chanced a glance in her direction. Brooke still had one eye focused on the movie, one hidden behind the blanket, looking for all intents and purposes like she was engrossed, albeit a little cringingly.

Minutes passed. It took all of Sam's energy to stop her legs from bouncing. Her hand remained frozen. She was afraid to move it away, afraid to move it closer, and so she figured the best course of action was just to leave it where it was. Brooke hadn't jumped or flinched or screamed at any of the moments Sam thought she would have. That coupled with the fact that she was fairly sure the blonde's breathing pattern had altered a noticeable amount brought her to the conclusion that Brooke was not watching. Was instead focused on the very thing Sam was.

She felt Brooke's finger twitch and was unsure whether or not her breathing stopped again or if she'd been holding it the entire time. They both stared unseeingly at the television set, as Brooke ever so slowly, so slow Sam was unsure if it was actually happening, slid her hand towards the reporter's. Until, finally, it covered it.

"I can't breathe." She thought, panicked. She tried to take a breath, but her lungs wouldn't work. It was as if the oxygen in her body had been replaced with fire, it burned her throat. "I seriously can't breath. Why do I have to die now? Of all the moments…"

"Sam?" Brooke was talking to her in a whisper.

"Oh god, I don't think I can speak." Silence. The cogs and wheels in Sam's brain didn't even attempt to turn.

"Sam?" Brooke repeated, a little louder. Sam could feel her eyes on her. "Is this…." She let the sentence die, suddenly afraid she'd overstepped the mark. Why couldn't she have just left things as they were? The teasing was, for the most part, harmless. A few frustrated sleepless nights didn't do anyone any permanent damage. Why had she had to act on impulse now?

Sam had thankfully managed to regain the ability to breathe. She allowed her head to loll in Brooke's direction so her chin was in line with her shoulder and her head rested against the back of the couch. Her dark eyes were wary, but she was smiling.

"Yeah." She said softly and turned her hand palm up to entwine their fingers, finding her voice and her confidence in the same moment. Brooke's smile started out small but soon turned into one that threatened to overtake her face. It was relieved, nervous, and beautiful.

"Good." Was all she said, before her gaze flitted back to the movie. It looked like it was getting ready to wind down. "Makes me less afraid." She added offhandedly as an afterthought.

"Mmhmm." Another chuckle rumbled in Sam's chest as she noticed how closely it resembled a cover story. "I'm here to help." She said with a smile. Her heart thumped in her chest as Brooke's hand squeezed hers.

Sam might have thought scary movies were kind of stupid, but they definitely had their uses.

The End

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