Even If It Takes Forever
I was listening to this song by Reba and Brooks & Dunn called "If You See Him, If You See Her" and it just fit Lucky and Sam so well that I had to write a little fic for it. It should be no more than 6-7 parts. It's sad right now, I'll admit, but hopefully worth the read.
I totally wish we could have Lusam back. I am just not feeling the new Jason at all. Besides, no matter who plays Jason, he always seems to gravitate to anyone but Sam when things get tough and that frustrates the hell out of me. She deserves better than she gets from him, to be honest.
Anyway, rant done LOL Enjoy the read!
Sam dropped down onto her sofa with a sigh and rested her head back against the tattered, brown cushions. Anyone who saw her now would wonder where the glamorous TV star had disappeared to and who this hollow-cheeked woman with raccoon-eyes was. Gone were her fancy, upscale penthouse and the nice matching furniture. These few possessions, this dirty sofa and the scarred coffee table where she put her feet up, were the remnants of a life that had gone terribly wrong. And worse, she couldn't - or refused to - pinpoint where it had gone south for her for good. The only thing she knew was that it had been decidedly pathetic for a long time, way before she even got her diagnosis.
The phone jangled her out of her depressing thoughts for a moment and she slowly, almost hesitantly reached for it. She was always scared of two things when the phone rang: that it was going to be Him and also that it wasn't going to be.
She put the cold plastic to her ear. "Hello," she said hoarsely.
"Sam." It was Maxie and she couldn't decide if she was disappointed or pleased. Maybe a little of both.
"Sam? SAM?! How are you?"
"Hey, Maxie," Sam said, trying to put a little of the old pep into her voice but feeling that she was failing miserably at it.
"Hi. You sound ... weak," Maxie said.
"Sorry, but you do and I'm scared for you. I lost too many people I loved to lose you too. Please tell me I can come see you."
Sam sighed. "I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter either."
"C'mon, Sam, worrying about you is really destroying my fashion career. I haven't been able to design anything halfway decent in months since you told me."
Sam immediately pounced on that last sentence. "Please tell me you haven't told him."
"I haven't, of course I haven't. But damn, Sam someone has to already. Or at least, you know, you could actually tell your mom."
"She's dealing with her own shit," Sam said with a hitch in her voice. Her eyes filmed over with tears as she felt that long buried pain surfacing like a tidal wave that threatened to bowl her over.
"Maybe you can deal with this together ..."
"Alexis doesn't want to see me."
"You know that's not true."
"Maxie, I don't know anything anymore. It's just ... It's just too much; I can't deal with her pain too."
"Then you're being selfish because she needs you as much as you need her."
"I don't think so ..."
"That's right - you know so."
Sam managed a crooked, teary smile even though her friend couldn't see it. "When did you become so wise and grown up?"
"I don't know but it's scary, huh?" Maxie laughed.
"Look, please say you'll reach out to someone. You're not the only one suffering either so just know that."
"How is he?" Sam asked. "Really?"
"He's not doing so hot either, Sam. Not even close. Last I heard, he was still drowning himself in the bottom of a bottle."
"Oh. I hate that. I really do. I hate that that bitch ruined him."
"No, you did, Sam. Sorry to say it but its true. You two could have overcome everything and you ran away. The bitch is a non-issue and has been forever. He misses you, Sam, and no one else."
"Well, uh, if you see him ... Tell him I hope he finds happiness."
"Should I tell him you miss him too?"
Sam shook her head. "No, Maxie please don't."
If you see him
Tell him I wish him well
How am I doing?
Well, sometimes is hard to tell
I still miss him more than ever
But please don't say a word
If you see him
If you see him
Dante Falconeri walked into Jake's and immediately spotted his old comrade sitting at the bar, throwing back shots like gangbusters.
"I knew you'd be here," Dante said flatly.
Lucky nodded. "You know me too damn well," he said facetiously without a trace of humor in his voice or eyes. All Dante really saw in the depths of his friend's blue orbs was misery of the most acute kind. Misery only missing the love of your life could bring.
Dante grabbed the next shot out of Lucky's hands as he was raising it to his lips. It sloshed all over the bar and Lucky cursed. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Helping you," Dante spat back. "Helping you stop wallowing in your pain like a pathetic sonuvabitch."
Lucky looked ready to punch Dante for that comment but resisted, seemingly by sheer force of will. Just like he was resisting the need to find his other missing part, to find his own happiness.
Lucky shook his head. "You will never understand where I'm coming from. You never lost what I've lost."
"And what is it you've lost? Besides your mind?" Dante challenged.
Lucky stubbornly lifted his chin. "Enough," was all he could say.
"Why can't you just admit you miss her and need her, you putz?" Dante demanded. "You think you're the only one is fucking miserable? The only one who's drowning ..."
Lucky's eyes snapped to Dante's and for the first time in what seemed like ages, he seemed perfectly sober. Sad and frustrated as ever, but sober. "What do you mean? Is she ... Is she okay?"
"Look, she did mention you to Maxie last time they talked. Just yesterday ..."
"Well what did she say?" Lucky asked, his voice hitched in anticipation.
"She wanted to know how you were doing."
Lucky swallowed hard and barked out, "Well tell her I'm just fine." His voice was so bitter, Dante thought that he could pickle Lucky.
If you see her
Tell her I'm doing fine
"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Dante shot back impatiently.
"No reason not to. You only refuse to go down there because you're still a pathetic, self-involved sonuvabitch."
Lucky went to punch Dante but Dante grabbed his arm and pushed him back, nearly making Lucky topple over.
Dante stared at Lucky with anger and frustration of his own in his eyes. "Look, Maxie told me not to tell you because Sam made her swear and they're best friends ..."
Lucky nodded impatiently. "Tell me what?"
"Look I like Sam but I don't have the same loyalties to her that Maxie does so I will just say, Sam needs you, Lucky, and you need to get off your skinny, selfish ass and go to her."
"She doesn't want me."
"She needs you. Isn't that enough for you?"
Dante rubbed his cheek. "Maxie is going to divorce me for sure for telling you this but, Lucky, I have to if only to shake you out of your pathetic drunk act. Sam's got ... Sam's got cancer and it doesn't look like she's going to be around for very long ..."
Was it possible to die inside even more? Lucky wondered, feeling the last part of him had just been driven twenty feet under. Sam? His Sam? She was dy ... No he couldn't even think of it. But he knew she was hurting and he had been so wrapped up in his own shitty self-pity while she was suffering by herself.
He felt like a complete and totally loathsome bastard.
Lucky managed to get the last ticket on a red eye headed to New Mexico where Sam was. He had already memorized her address some time ago, etched it in his brain, just in case ... Well, just in case...
He was glad Dante said she hadn't moved in the two years they had been apart. He didn't want to have to search the globe for her when she needed him. At least that's what he told himself. That she would welcome him with open arms, say she had needed him as much as he needed her and wanted her and craved her even still. But the truth was, he was sure he knew better. If she really wanted him there with her, she would have called a long time ago. That made him a bit angry, like she had cheated him out of loving her, but he refused to hold onto that feeling. This wasn't about him; this was about her and even if it hurt him, he was not going to give into the will to explode.
A female flight attendant came around his seat in coach and offered him a beverage. He started to ask for the wine list but then shook his head. "I'll just have a bottle of water please," he said.
"Lucky," she said in surprise as he slid into the seat beside her at the bar.
"What are we drinking to?" He asked, noting the beer bottle in her hand where there were already two lined up in front of her. Empty, of course.
"You shouldn't be drinking, Lucky," she said, seemingly startled by both his presence and his proximity to her. They hadn't really had two words to say to each other in the intermittent year since their breakup.
"Please don't 'mother' me, Sam. Please," he said, a hitch in his voice that was almost pleading. Almost said, "Not you too. I need you to respect me even if no one else does."
"Sorry," Sam mumbled.
He looked over at her and offered her a weak smile. "No problem." He tried to sound blasé and unconcerned but he wasn't sure if he was managing it.
He threw a twenty dollar bill at Coleman. "Get me two beers."
Coleman looked at him for a moment, questioningly almost, and then nodded, sliding two bottles across the bar to Lucky.
Lucky looked over at Sam, who was watching him with demure curiosity like she was trying to figure him out. He offered her a weak smile. "You never answered my question."
"Which was ..."
"What are we drinking to?"
"My patheticness?" Sam offered with a hint of a smile.
"Can I join in then?"
"Of course," she said and they clinked glasses.
"Although, Lucky, I don't think you're pathetic."
"I do. So how about that?" He said, downing his beer in three huge gulps.
"If you don't mind me asking ..."
Lucky watched her, noted the concern in her big brown eyes. "You can ask."
"Problems with Elizabeth?"
Lucky nodded and grabbed at his other drink, taking a long sip before answering. "You could say that. She's fucking my brother."
"Oh," Sam said, eyes dropping.
He stared at her. "Oh shit!"
"You knew too?! Didn't you?"
"Well, Jason told me he saw them kissing and ..."
"And you didn't bother to tell me?" Lucky managed to choke out. "You let me play the fool like everyone else?"
"I didn't think it was my place ..."
"Just like it wasn't your place to tell me Jason screwed Elizabeth and got her pregnant too!" Lucky thundered, now past the point of caring who even heard him.
"I thought that we were past that..."
"You and me both," he said with a long sigh. "I'm sorry -"
"No, I am sorry. I mean, that's not your job. To report back on my skanky ex-wife. I should have known. I am kicking myself for that alone. Thinking of all I gave up for her ..." He looked at her, hoping she would see the regret he couldn't bring himself to verbalize at just this moment, afraid it would break the spell. That he would wake up and Sam wouldn't be sitting beside him, caring about him, warm thigh against his own ...
Was it possible to ache from the loss of her touch? Was that possible? Was she his amputated limb? The one that throbbed long after it was severed? It was the dumbest, most cliché thought he'd ever had but he ached for her. Realized he had never stopped, that he had tried so hard to bury himself in Elizabeth to force himself to forget the person he had walked away from so willingly ...
Sam just touched his arm lightly and the warmth of her small hand spread throughout his body, touching his soul somehow. "It's okay."
Lucky's voice was hoarse with emotion and undisguised desire as he asked, "What are you trying to forget?"
"Everything," she said, her words laced with pain and regret.
"Is it Jason again?"
"He doesn't want a baby. I do. We are at the proverbial crossroads and I ended it tonight."
Lucky touched her arm now, the warmth of her skin penetrating some closed off part of him that had shut down long before Elizabeth's tryst came to light tonight. "I am sorry. I know how much you want kids but maybe one day ..."
"Not with Jason," Sam said with a shake of her head. "And I walked away and it hurts but not for the reason you think. Because once again, he gets to walk away with a big part of my soul ..."
Lucky leaned over and brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. "He can't take that away from you, Sam. You have the most beautiful heart and soul I have ever known. And I'm sorry I hurt you ..."
Sam just watched him with those beautiful, mocha eyes of hers and he had the most intense urge to kiss her.
And so he did.
"Flight 1845 to Paos, New Mexico has arrived at the gate. Thank you for flying American Airlines and enjoy your trip ..."
"Damn," Lucky said, jolted awake from his sleep and the memories that haunted him even when he closed his eyes. "That was the best part too."
It was the best part because she had kissed him back like she needed him and loved him as much as he did her, maybe always had. And while the next part had been wonderful too, the part where they were entangled in each other's naked limbs, that always made him more than a bit better because afterwards, she had walked out while he was asleep and left nothing of herself behind to hold onto but the memory of her. And sometimes memories were just not enough; no substitute for the real thing.