Facts of Life - In A Family Way .

Part I. Step One. You Say We Need To Talk

"You know, next time Sam decides to get you an animal, I'm going to ask her to get you something that's a little more portable."

Brooke smiled, wrapping fingers around the plastic bag that held the little blue betta fish, trying hard as she could to keep it from bobbing too much with the motions of the car.

"I don't think I'm very capable of taking care of much else," she told Jane, who smiled in response, turning the wheel as they bumped up into their driveway.

"Well, the way you take care of both Mac and Little Bleu, I seriously disagree with you." Jane shrugged, pulling the keys from the ignition. "At least I've got a chance of get grandkids from one of you."

Hesitating, Brooke hugged the plastic bag against her body, and turned her head as she watched Jane open the back door and begin fussing with Mac's car chair.

Little comments like that had a habit of flushing an icy chill into the pit of her stomach, and Brooke always told herself it was on behalf of Sam. As okay as Jane seemed to be with Sam's little bombshell, there had seemed to be a couple moments, where Brooke could see Sam's mother struggling.

"Jane," she tried, fumbling for the car door and trying to keep her fingers tied around the little bag that held Little Bleu and sling her backpack onto her shoulder at the same time. "You know, just because she's... gay, it doesn't mean that..."

Jane straightened, hoisting the baby onto her hip. Dressed for the cold, the toddler looked like an overstuffed teddy bear. She could barely move. Brooke smiled when the baby gave her a gummy grin.

"-there are ways," Brooke tried again, feeling her cheeks flush uncontrollably.

"I know," Jane answered, and had the graciousness to appear ashamed. "I'm okay with it, Brooke. Really, I am. I want Sam to be happy. But I can't help thinking that... you know Sam, she tries so hard to be different-"

"I don't think Sam would tell you about this if it really wasn't what she wanted," Brooke said carefully, retrieving Little Blue's champagne glass from the bottom of the seat, closing the car door with a careful nudge of her hips.

"Well, did you have any idea?" Fishing for her keys, Jane tossed her an inquisitive look. "Did she say anything to you?"

Responding with an awkward chuckle, Brooke averted her eyes, making sure not to squish her fish. Her smile was almost bitter. "Jane, you know how I found out."

It had been a slap in the face, to find out that her step sister was gay from her own step mother in a passing phone call. Not that Brooke expected a personalized coming out telegram, but for all their issues, Sam had started to trust her.

At least until the accident, and in those months that followed, Brooke knew she had no one but herself to blame for the disintegration.

But still, it stung. Especially considering...

"I know, but you two were getting close. I just hate to think that she had to figure this out on her own."

"You know Sam," Brooke mumbled, nodding her thank you as Jane held the door open. "Miss Independent."

"Well..." Jane sighed, and Mac let out a little baby giggle and a bubble as Jane plopped her on the counter, going to work on the zipper that held together the baby's enormous coat. "See if you can talk to her. Maybe... I don't know. There's only so much she can say to her mother. Maybe her sister..."

"I'm not... Okay," Brooke said, barely a whisper, somehow annoyed. When Jane looked at her, she shrugged, avoiding the questioning stare to look down at Little Bleu, who obviously seemed more than a little stressed with the current move. He gave a little flips in his water, little beading eyes staring up at her with a pathetic expression. "I better get him into some decent water."

"Okay, that's fine. Are you going with us to pick up Sam from the airport?"

Back unreasonably tense, she turned around and forced a smile. "You know, I think I'm going to unpack. I kinda... want to unwind, if that's okay."

"Of course that's fine, sweetie!" Jane's smile was kind, and not at all suspicious. "Oh, and Brooke?"

She pressed her mouth together, waiting in anxious silence.

"Welcome home, honey."

Little Bleu swam in a gentle circle, happy to be back in his little home. Brooke could hardly say she felt the same.

Flat on her back, she morosely plugged her earphones into her ears and set the IPOD on high, eyes closing as the almost blistering loud music slammed into her brain.

She wasn't much of a brooder. Brooke preferred to be proactive, to actively solve her insecurities with solutions, or, in some cases, starvation. She had never been used to delving into her own psyche, instead wanting to take action, any action, to activate some sort of change. A semester in college had forced her to realize that everything she did was an effort to avoid her own thoughts, and she hated that feeling.

She also, coincidentally, hated freshman psych for putting that thought into her head.

It had taken a lot to become comfortable in her skin, and towards the end of junior year, Brooke thought she was on her way to getting there. A relapse of her eating disorder and Harrison's cancer withstanding, Brooke had things she had never had before: confidence in herself that wasn't founded in her own superficial appearance, an identity. She had friends that cared about her, and while she didn't have Harrison, she had Sam, her sister, who she was sure she loved.

Brooke hadn't wanted to think too much of her sexuality. While something had always been missing with Josh, she had really come to care about him, so much she didn't care about the sex. And with Harrison, it had been nice. There hadn't been much there in terms of attraction, but Brooke didn't want that anyhow. She wanted Harrison because he was sweet and kind and sensitive, and in a weird way, kinda of like a girl.

Brooke winced, forehead wrinkling together before she brought her fingers to her skin and forced herself to smooth it out.

That day they were all locked up in the Novak when Lily had admitted she was confused, it had felt almost liberating, to say it out loud. She had thought about it. She had flashes and images and caught herself staring too long at Nicole's breasts in the locker room and twice, had some very embarrassing dreams that involved Sam and being naked and woke up flushed and scared.

Of course she had said it quietly and only really Nicole had heard her, and Nicole didn't believe her, and after her moment of weakness, she was glad no one had. It was too much, too soon, too fast.

So she didn’t think about it. That fuzzy feeling that came with Sam was something she copped to being sisters, and throughout her sophomore and junior year, that became her constant. Yeah, her and Sam fought all the time, but there were moments where she could just stop and stare at Sam and suddenly be really, really happy that it was Sam sitting across from her at dinner, sitting on her bed, begging for help in chemistry because the Claw hated her, sprawled on the floor delivering their sister. She didn't have to hesitate to tell Sam that she thought she was beautiful, she could talk to Sam about sex and be gratified Sam was coming to HER, she could even bring up the idea of her and Harrison and Sam all going together to prom and it not being weird at all because they were sisters.

Everyone thought it was the coma and the accident that had changed Brooke, and to a point, it was true. But it wasn't just that.

It was the sharp realization, sitting at that dinner table, as soon as Harrison had chosen her and Sam's eyes welled up with tears, that for all her protestations of sisterly love to the world about Sam, she was incredibly, hopelessly, desperately, IN love with her.

There was enough difference in that statement to completely destroy any sense of stability she had. It was that moment that caused her to jump up from the table, to walk away from Sam. It had been her moment of panic, her overwhelming need to get away from Sam and her newfound feelings, that had blinded her to the oncoming car until it was too late.

Two months later, she had woken up in a hospital bed and nothing had changed and everything had changed. Nicole had gotten off with minimal punishment. Harrison was still there, waiting for his chance. Lily and Josh were still together and Carmen was now the most popular girl in school, with Mary Cherry as her sidekick. And Sam was there, in her hospital room, trying to be everything she could be and nothing Brooke wanted her to be.

It had taken a semester at USC to prove to Brooke that whatever she was doing, her little push to get back any sense of normalcy she could, wasn't working. That night wasn't going to go away, she knew, and it was more that ache in her hip that wouldn't go away on really chilly nights and her inability to try out for song girls because she didn't have the flexibility she used to. It was the fact that despite Brooke's attempts to move forward and forget everything, she was living in the past, and it was never more clear than now that she was the only one doing so, because Sam had clearly moved on, and not seen fit to tell her.

Now it was Christmas, and Brooke was hours away from seeing Sam again, and facing this, whatever it was, head on. It wouldn't be fair, she knew, to blame Sam for not loving her. It was already twisted, and she had hurt Sam, she knew, by not being the sister that Sam had wanted her to be.

Brooke hadn't been what Sam needed, not in that last year, and Sam had adjusted accordingly.

Eyes opening, Brooke stared up at the ceiling and considered her options. She could continue the polite freeze-out, until she couldn't take it anymore and react in the worst possible way, and she had the strong suspicion that would end up with another stint in her favorite place, the eating disorder wing at the hospital.

Rubbing her palm along her flat stomach, Brooke grimaced at just the thought. She wasn't going there again. She had promised herself.

She could also be an adult about this and admit that she had reacted badly and selfishly, and apologize to Sam and hope she could at least be friends with Sam again.

There was another option, once she didn't even want to think about, that involved the truth, and Brooke's heart throbbed at even the idea. Just because Sam liked girls didn’t mean she liked HER, and if Brooke even entertained that thought it would just get her into a really bad place.

No. Option two was the best idea. That decided, Brooke closed her eyes and let out a hot breath.

When her bed bobbed with an unseen weight, it had been completely unexpected. Heart jackknifing into her throat, Brooke's eyes jerked open and she nearly tumbled off of it, muffling a screech when she discovered a longer haired version of Sam staring down at her, cross-legged on the bed.

"SAM!!"

"Holy shit!" Sam said, nearly flailing off the bed at Brooke's violent reaction, ducking to avoid Brooke's long legs, swinging at her unintentionally as Brooke tried to right herself. "I'm sorry! I should have knocked!"

Hand pressed to her chest, Brooke blinked at her, jerking off her earphones to stare at the brunette. Cheek's still flushed from the cold, the other girl was now unraveling a scarf from around her neck, half perched on the bed.

"Sam," she said dumbly, too shocked to say anything else. "You're here."

"What a great observation," Sam answered dryly, and Brooke nearly rolled her eyes, trying to get her breathing down to normal. "My flight was early. Mom and Mike wanted me to come get you. We brought chicken." That said, Sam flashed her a shrug and a smile, and backed toward the door, scarf in her hand. Dark eyes flickered toward the bowl on her nightstand, and Sam offered the swimming fish a nod. "Lil' Bleu," she greeted, in her best 'Finding Nemo' impersonation, before heading out of Brooke's room as quickly as she came in.

Brooke stayed on the bed a second longer, trying to process the brief reintroduction of Sam into her life.

Shaking her head, she found herself chuckling oddly at the unconventionality of it.

With Sam, it wouldn't be any other way.

"So, do you girls have any big plans for the break?"

It was Jane's polite way of trying to engage the crowd into some sort of dinner conversation, interjecting the question as carefree as she could without trying to sound obnoxiously nosy.

Still, it made the chicken stick a little in the back of Brooke's throat, as she looked up and caught Sam fussing with her mashed potatoes, obviously not in the mood for any sort of chat.

Forcing down the lump of chicken, Brooke took in a small breath, and offered a small smile. "Well, there's a Christmas party that a couple of my sorority sisters who live in Laguna are throwing, but... nothing special." Sam could barely contain the roll of her eyes at the idea, and tongue pressed into the corner of her mouth, Brooke didn't elaborate.

Mike, in the middle of bouncing Mac on his lap, tried to look suitably interested. "That's nice. And you, Sam? Hanging with Carmen and Lily?"

Putting down her plastic fork, Sam also offered her own version of a strained smile. "Actually, um... Carmen's with Mary Cherry in the Alps, and Lily went to visit Josh's family, so... I don't really have a lot of plans. It's cool... I'll see if Harrison's doing anything and swing by the old record store and see if I can pick up some hours."

"Oh, you shouldn't have to work on your break!" Jane chided, and Brooke mentally agreed. "Sam, why don't you spend some time here? You weren't here for Thanksgiving, and it'll be nice to have you home."

"Mom, I... it's nice to be home, but... I'm trying to save up some cash to go to Florida for Spring Break with Rebecca...."

Rebecca. The name caused an awkward reaction, and Brooke found herself choking on her chicken.

"Brooke honey, are you all right?"

"Fine," she wheezed, and fumbled for her water, trying to hack up the lodged piece. "Just... went down the wrong tube," she managed, recovering. Everyone was staring at her, and Brooke felt oddly like she was putting on a performance. "Hey, Sam... I need to go pick up a few things tomorrow. You know, last minute Christmas shopping. Do you want to come with me?"

It was a dirty tactic, bringing it up in front of the parentals, and Brooke knew Sam didn't think much of it. Her expressive mouth turned downwards and she openly hesitated, shaking her head unwillingly.

"Brooke, I did all my Christmas shopping early for a reason..."

"Oh, come on, Sam! You should keep her company!"

"Yeah, Sam, why not? It'll be fun." Mike paused long enough to blow a raspberry on Mac's tummy. "That's my girl!"

"Dad, that's gross to do at the table," Brooke told him, and he gave her a wink in response. "Please, Sam? I'd like to spend some time with you."

Sam's eyebrow's narrowed suspiciously, but Brooke thankfully had the family on her side, and when Jane gave the unsociable one an arched eyebrow, Sam gave up with a fork thrown on her plate.

"Fine," she relented. "But if we're there more than three hours, I'm going to hurt you."

She couldn't help her small smug grin. "Fair enough," she said, and then eyed her chicken warily, not quite ready to dive back in. No wonder she stopped eating. She was really bad at it.

Shallow as it was, Brooke was slightly relieved that Sam's coming out hadn't precipitated a full out dyke make over. Eyebrows were still plucked, foundation, the Bare Minerals Brooke had bought her for her last birthday, was still applied, and her hair was neither crew cut looking or looking at all like a boy.

In fact, Sam was as beautiful as ever, in her slightly tighter jeans and her casual fitted tee, hat squished over her head. The only real noticeable difference was a little less lipstick and a more natural shade of eyeshadow, and honestly, it only made her look better.

The scowl on her face, however, didn't add anything to the natural beauty Sam possessed, and Brooke had half a mind to tell her so, as they drove to the mall. In the passenger seat, Sam had her arms crossed, and she was looking everywhere but at Brooke.

"Thanks for coming," Brooke said, when Sam said nothing at all. "I wanted to catch up."

"So strong-arming me in front of the 'rents was the way to do it?" Apparently that still wasn't sitting well.

"Would you have come any other way?"

Sam finally looked at her, a half glance before glancing away. "Touche." Brooke smiled slightly, adjusting her glasses before turning on the signal light. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Brooke said, and took in a small, steadying breath. Option B was a commitment, and she found it easier than she thought it would be, to be as nice as she could, despite Sam's stares that made it clear she thought she had been lobotomized.

"What's with the Stepford act?" Brooke's mouth became a thin line. "I mean, I leave and you can barely look at me, and now, we're suddenly ..."

"Suddenly..." she repeated, when Sam paused.

"Just tell me what's gong on," Sam said flatly. "I'm not up for three weeks of this. It's not why I came home."

"Why did you come home?" Brooke asked, and nearly smacked herself for answering the question with a question. Somehow, it was still easier to deflect all of this, Option B be damned.

Clearly, Sam wasn't a fan of it either. Throwing her another glare, Sam settled further into her seat. "Because if I didn't Mom would kill me. And I wanted to see Mac."

"Oh." Brooke couldn't exactly hope for more than that.

"And you're avoiding the question."

"I know. I’m sorry." Turning into the mall parking lot, she tried to focus on finding a spot. "It's just... I had all these things I wanted to say to you, and ... I didn't exactly want to do it while I’m fighting some hummer for a compact spot..."

"It can't always be about what you want, Brooke."

"I know, I just..." Anxiety was building, and Brooke closed her eyes, suddenly incredibly frustrated. Slamming on the brakes, she jerked the car into park and turned to face the girl she was in love with. "Look, Sam, I know it's not enough. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shutting you out, and I'm sorry for hurting you. I should have been there for you and I wasn't, and I don't have any explanation for it, except that... prom night really messed me up."

Sam was staring at her like she had grown a second head, and it wasn't helping. Longing for a sudden sense of fogginess, Brooke tore off her glasses, and began to fiddle with them, now staring at her hands.

"I just... you were so nice, and I didn't... it was easier to push you away. But you're... I know I didn't act like it, but you were my best friend... not counting the one that ran me over." A hesitant glance up, she realized Sam was still just staring at her.

"You realize that you have about six cars behind you waiting to murder you right now, right?"

It was then that Brooke realized she had just stopped in the middle of a parking lane, in the midst of a cacophony of honking horns. "Oh, God..." Fumbling with the gear shift, she pressed on the gas. "Sorry, I just..."

"So why the change of heart?" Sam said quietly, watching when a car swung out from behind them and flipped them the bird.

Biting her lower lip, Brooke contemplated the own swelling emotion in her chest. She stayed quiet, simply driving, turning into another parking lane. "Do you remember when you came to me about George? You wanted him to be your first, and you came to me, and you asked me advice, and I showed you a porno." Her tone devolved into flat resignation at that last statement, and beside her, Sam snorted at the absurdity of it.

"Yeah," she heard. "That wasn't pretty."

"I loved that," she admitted. "That you came to me. That I could help you. It just... it made me so happy. And I guess, I just... when I found out from Jane that you were..." Her cheeks were burning, and she couldn't look at Sam, right then. "I couldn't believe that I hadn't been there for you. I hated myself for that."

A blanket of somber quiet settled in the car, and beside her Sam seemed to finally come to life, agitated sigh exhaling from her body before she turned in her seat, away from her.

"You didn't miss much," Sam muttered. "There wasn't much talk about it. It kinda just... happened. And you can say it. Gay."

"Gay," she repeated, as if trying to get used to it, the way it sounded on her tongue. "Gay."

"Gay," Sam said again. "Lesbian."

Coming to a pause, the car in front of them blinking their signal, obviously waiting for an exiting car, Brooke's own emotion seemed to rise and fall within her, leaving her curiously empty. Shifting, she stared at the beautiful girl in the car beside her, staring listelessly out of the window. "You know that I’m fine with it, right? That I ... love you..."

A bitter smile floated on Sam's list. "Thanks," she answered dryly. "That was my Christmas miracle. Acceptance from Brooky."

The car in front of her crawled into it's space, and she swallowed harshly, hands back on the wheel. "I wanted to be your first."

"You what?" The tone was odd, and Brooke forced down the choked emotion swelling inside of her.

"Your first," she repeated, and stared into startled dark eyes. "The first person you told." Sam only kept staring at her, and suddenly, she glanced away, sinking deeper into her seat. "But I'll settle for being your friend again. If you'll let me. I know the sister thing is... "

"Shot for now," Sam breathed flatly.

"I'll make it up to you, Sam. I promise." Her words were sincere, her resolve fierce, and knuckles tightened against the steering wheel, she didn't care about what was in front of her, only what was beside her.

Sam was quiet for the longest time, obviously waging some inner battle with herself, and Brooke's insides felt like they were wrapped in a coil, stretched paper thin.

"You've missed like, five open spots," Sam said finally, and pointed a finger toward the other lane. "Head over there before you miss another one or we'll be living in this stupid garage."

It wasn't an answer, but it was good enough, Brooke smiled gratefully and followed the pointing.

"Thanks," she said meaningfully. Sam glanced at her, and for one minute second, Brooke wanted to tell herself she saw tears.

"I needed to get something for Mac anyway," Sam said, non-committal. "Can we do lunch at In-N-Out? I've starved for it. No pun intended."

"Sure," Brooke said, weak with relief. It wasn't much of anything, but Sam had given her a small hint of a chance.

She might as well have given her the world.

END CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTERS