There Is No Turning Back From Here.
Summary: OneShot: Phil's POV and Sam's POV. Set during Romania and that night at the B&B, what do the two of them think to themselves?
Dedicated to Barb, who asked me to write this, hope that you enjoy it!
His eyes glance across the room, they struggle to stay open, but he promised her that he'd protect her, and he cannot let her down. No-one knows they are here, but this is Romania, and doubts still remain as to their safety. He pulls the sheet around himself, glad that it is not winter here. His clothes are somewhere in this dark room, and he cannot see them, but he doesn't need to find them, for finding them would wake her, and after turning constantly in the small bed after he left it, it seems that she has finally settled, he can just see the top of her blonde head, still at least for the moment. He wonders what she is dreaming of, and whether or not she is regretting what just happened between the two of them. He has wanted her for what seems like forever, in reality it hasn't been since they knew each other, he couldn't stand her for the longest time, but things change, people change, circumstances change, and it seems that recently he couldn't get her out of his head. But instead she went to Stuart, not to him, and he thought that perhaps he'd lost any chance he had with her. But day by day, argument by argument, and sneaking Sam and Phil moment by moment, she had come back to him.
When she had leant in, to him this evening, he didn't know how to react, she'd thanked him, and for what he wasn't quite sure. Both of them had had reason to thank one another over the years, they'd both been there for the other when no-one else had been. When she had kissed him first, it had taken him all of a moment to realise that what he had waited for, was about to happen or was in fact actually happening, and then it had been a mixture of attraction, a dropped glass of water, and a friendship spilling into somewhat different territory. He hadn't thought about what would happen after kissing Sam, he'd only thought about the kiss, and now it plus more had happened. He didn't know what was happening outside this room, he didn't know what time it was, or if they had been found, as he leant back against the door, trying to hear out into the corridor, there was silence. There was only the occasional sound from the bed, of her breathing deeply. He had stayed with her, until she seemed calm, until she was almost asleep, for he didn't know what would happen when morning came and then he had slipped out of the bed, and into this chair. He stretches his legs out once more, and snuggles back into the base, focusing on her, keeping himself awake, he can feel his eyes become heavy, but he had promised to protect her, and he wasn't going to let her down. For she is his friend, and he owes it to her, or perhaps she could be more, whatever she is though, there is no turning back from here.
Her eyes flicker open, in the harsh light of Romanian morning. The unfamiliar swarms into view, the yellow lampshade, the grotty walls, the photo of the Madonna hanging behind her and then there is of course the sight of him. He is perhaps the most unfamiliar sight of all, slumped in the chair against the door, wrapped in only a sheet, but sleeping against that door to protect her. Protecting her from those who thought nothing of trying to shoot the two of them only hours ago, but he remained there, just as he had promised her that he would.
She sighs as she sits up against the wall, remembering the events of last night, perhaps even the events of the last few months. Where she thought she had lost her friend, thought that what they once had was gone, that by having a relationship with another she had thrown away one of her closest friendships, and perhaps if she was honest to herself, he was the best friend she had, had in years.
She pulls the sheet tighter around her body, she glances around the floor, picking out her clothes in the corner of the room, quickly discarded last night in the heat of the moment, where her fear and anxiety had gotten the better of her. Where kissing him had seemed so right and when she finally had, it had felt so good, like that was where she belonged. But now in the light of the day as she looks toward him once more, she wonders if it was the right thing to do, sleeping with her best friend.
An ache forms in the pit of her stomach, what does she do now? There is no turning back from here, she either makes a commitment to a relationship of more than just friendship, or she watches as somehow the two of them try to remain "just friends", knowing that, that it is perhaps impossible. Impossible for them to remain platonic, especially when raw feelings have been exposed, when what was keeping them just as friends has been broken. This feeling is different than what she has had before, she has never slept with someone who was purely her friend before, someone who each time she considered stepping closer to, something or someone had prevented her actions and even his too. Phil was that someone, who saw her at her lowest and did his best to help her in anyway that he could. Stuart wasn't her friend, she barely knew him at all, they hardly known one another and they had lived together and she had been pregnant. This wasn't the feeling she had felt as she sat alone in her living room, one hand resting on her stomach as she asked Stuart to leave. That feeling was more certain, certain that she at least now had made the right decision in asking him to go, they weren't meant to be together, he wasn't the one for her. The days before had proved that to her. He hadn't been the one that had been there when her life felt as if it was crumbling around her, he hadn't been the one who had bought her chocolates from the canteen to keep her spirits up during her painful search for answers when Abi had been missing, he hadn't been the one that she had rejected, one fateful day in Neil's office and he hadn't been the one who she had confided in, whether about pregnancy or any other issue she had needed to tell someone about. He wasn't her best friend, and having no relationship with Stuart did not phase her as much as not being able to have a relationship with Phil.
Sam knows deep down that there is no halfway mark between sleeping with your best friend, you either make a relationship or you break it apart. Things just do not go back to the way that they once were, you can't just go back to unexpected office dinners, with screw top wine and Thai restaurant menus. She sighed and closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like having a relationship with Phil as it once was, strained and difficult. Only ever speaking to one another when they were forced to, she shook her head, the idea to her seemed unbearable, things had changed since then, she didn't want the past back again, she didn't need the past back. When she had leant towards him last night, in search of comfort, in search of stopping herself from feeling as if she would faint, she did not think about the consequences of morning, the consequences of what happened when the sun rose and nothing was hidden any longer. The consequences of waking up in this room, where only the two of them knew where they were and what they had just done, and now it was only consequences she could think of. She looked at him, and wondered what he was thinking, wondered what he was dreaming of. She could tell that he had hardly slept, and that he had kept his promise that he would protect her, she knew that too because the two of them were still here, they hadn't been found.
She closed her eyes again, she knew that the two of them couldn't stay in this room together forever, they would have to face Romania again, and they'd have to face each other. She knew that things had changed between the two of them, and that her actions of the previous night had been the catalyst, and now there was no turning back from here, so she opened her eyes and called out to him.
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