“Oh, God, C.C. you don’t think that…” Sam’s hand rose to her mouth.

Pushing past Sam, C.C. threw open the door and went running down the stairs, screaming out her sister’s name, “Brooke! Brooke…” the name trailed off as the brunette saw the shambles that was once the well decorated hallway when she hit the bottom of the stairs.

The floor was littered with broken glass and bent picture frames, along with numerous photos of Anti-Zero. C.C. just stood and stared for a moment, knowing just how badly her sister must have hurt to trash the last reminders of that time in her life.

Seeing C.C. stop so abruptly at the bottom of the stairs, Sam hesitated, praying that Brooke was all right. Green eyes looked cautiously around the debris that covered the floor. The familiar photos that she had admired for the first time a week ago were strewn about like some worthless garbage.

Intrigued by the hint of gold, Sam descended the remaining few steps and retrieved what had caught her eye. The now-broken statue was secured to a base that had the insignia of the record industry on it, The Grammy for best new group, Anti-Zero. Sam reached down and picked up the photo that was next to the other half of the statue. All the people looked younger but Sam could tell who it was. Mable Gordon and her husband were standing behind their beaming daughters. They all pretty much looked alike, well, except for the one with short, blonde streaked hair. “No, Brooke,” Sam shook her head, “No.”

Gingerly, C.C. walked around the mementos on the floor, making her way to the studio where she looked for Brooke and upon finding her, let out a sigh of relief.

“C.C. is she in there?” Sam held her breath waiting for the news.

“Yes, she’s in there.” The youngest sibling raised her eyes to the ceiling and mumbled out a prayer of thanksgiving, “Thank you, God. She’s playing…Oh my God, she’s playing her guitar.” C.C.’s voice sounded shaky and she reached for the button on the console allowing Brooke’s voice to be carried across the speakers for them both to hear.

The strains of guitar music and a softly sung melody came across the sound system. Sam listened to it for a moment before letting the words come from her mouth. “She plays guitar, too. What else don’t I know about her?”

The brunette leaned up against the door frame as she watched Brooke play and jot down the song that she was working on. “You know, when I was little, I’d have nightmares. I never ran to Mom and Dad or Randi or Terri…” C.C. thought back to those days. “I used to run into Brooke’s room.” The woman smiled at the memory. “Hell, I used to tell her I had a bad dream just so she’d sing to me.” C.C. turned around and looked whimsically at Sam. “You can’t imitate that, Sam.” The brunette moved her head to the beat of the music. “That’s a God-given talent.”

Sam closed her eyes and listened to the words for a moment.

Every day I walk down and see you passing by. Every hour I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you and wishing you would care. You look over and smile and all I do is stare…

What if I came crawling to you on my hands and knees? What if I could find the words to say? Would you give me a second glance if I were at your feet? Would you even look my way?

I’ve spent so long on the outside looking in, just to see your smile shining through the dim; Breaking through these walls around this crying heart. One look from you and it all falls apart…

What if I came crawling to you on my hands and knees? What if I could find the words to say? Would you give me a second glance if I were at your feet? Would you even look my, even look my, even look my way?

When Sam opened her eyes again, C.C. had pushed off the door frame and began walking back toward the stairs. The shorter woman hung her head; unable to forgive herself that she hadn’t believed Brooke earlier. “I’m a fool,” she muttered, then opened the door, only to have the acoustic instrument go sailing by, striking the wall off to her right and shattering with a horrendous noise as the wood crumbled and the strings snapped.

The sulking woman just sat there with her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

“Brooke?” Sam ventured a step or two into the room. “I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you.” The blonde took another step closer, and then added, “I just thought that you were trying to be something that you weren’t to get closer to me.”

The dark-haired woman remained sitting, without saying a word, just staring off into space.

“I guess I screwed things up, didn’t I?” Sam’s voice was hardly more than a whisper now as she edged her way closer to the human form.

The older woman sighed, and then slowly shook her head. “I never lied to you. I might not have told you everything… but I never lied to you.” Brooke paused for a moment before beginning to speak again, “I also never asked to be Brooke Loran. I never wanted to be…”

“I can see that now,” Sam stopped within an arm’s length of the woman. She reached out to comfort her, but hesitated, drawing her arm back and thrusting her hand into her jeans back pocket.

“I told you I don’t come out too often.” She mumbled under her breath, “I never really let anybody see…”

“I’m sorry; I don’t know what else to say, Brooke.” The blonde bit at her lip, then began to speak. “You’re not some animal that needs to be locked away in some cage…”

That caused Brooke to smirk, “You’ve never seen me pissed off.”

Sam looked around at the shambles of the hallway, then back to Brooke, “I think we can safely say that I’ve seen the aftermath…”

“No, Sam. Hurt and anger are two entirely different things.”

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean…” Sam’s voice became non-existent then. After a pause, the young woman whispered, “But you hurt me too, Brooke. I thought we trusted one another.”

“I love you, Sam and at the same time, I’m scared to death to love you…”

“Scared? Scared of what?” Sam waited anxiously as she tried to figure out how she was affecting the older woman.

“Take today for instance. I try to think of being without you and I… I can’t even breathe.”

“It just happened, Brooke. It wasn’t your fault.” Sam looked away from the musician as she confessed, “I guess you could say that I provoked it.”

“But why?” Brooke turned to face Sam, “What did I do?”

“I… I…” Sam stuttered, groping for words. “I shouldn’t have come busting in here accusing you of something that you weren’t doing. I jumped to a conclusion and I was wrong.”

The sullen woman hung her head and studied her knees intently before speaking, “It’s my fault. I should have told you sooner.”

“Sooner? You mean you actually thought of telling me at all?” Sam looked at Brooke with unbelieving eyes. “Didn’t you trust me Brooke?”

“Damn it, Sam.” Brooke clenched her jaw as her eyes shown fire. “I’ve been fighting with myself over telling you since that night at the movies.”

“Well, now you’re fighting with me,” green eyes challenged with a fire all their own. “It must run in your life… huh?”

“Baby, I’m not trying to fight with you,” Brooke slowly closed her eyes and inhaled. “I trusted you but look at it from my end…”

“No, you’re just telling me that you didn’t trust me with something that important about you… something that…”

Brooke hastily replied, “Put yourself in my shoes for a moment,” one dark eyebrow raised high on the woman’s brow. “What would you have done?”

“I would have been honest and up front with it. I hope you had a good laugh at my expense.” The blonde stared intently at Brooke, before looking away.

“No! Look in my eyes, Sam.” Brooke requested. “Does it look like I’ve been laughing?” Puffy, red rimmed, blue eyes looking up, staying glued to Sam’s head waiting for her to turn around.

There was a moment of pain as Sam gazed upon those once lovely blue eyes that she had so often dreamed about over the course of the last few weeks. She felt compelled to answer as she tried to stay mad, “Yeah, well, I’m not laughing now either, am I?” Green eyes grew restless as they strove to make their point.

“Actually Sam,” Brooke started then looked away. “I did trust you,” then she became very pensive and whispered, “I believed you when you said nothing would ever make you feel different about me. But the very first thing you did was run out once you knew who I was.

“Damn it anyhow, Brooke.” Sam’s voice was raised in anger. “I didn’t know. I thought you were imitating her to get in better with me.”

Brooke couldn’t believe what she had just heard. The taller woman’s mouth opened in shock and she slowly mustered the ability to make her thoughts audible. “Sam, you know more about me than anyone. I thought you knew me better than to think that I would try to imitate her… or anyone else to get to you.”

Hurt was written across Sam’s face as she realized for the first time what Brooke might be thinking of her. “You know, I had every intention of apologizing when I came back here.” Sam paused, slumped her shoulders forward, then in tones barely loud enough to be heard, she said, “Now, I’m not so sure I’d know how or that I’d want to.”

“Sam, please…” Brooke pleaded. “I’m sorry I hurt you but, I didn’t come out of this unscathed either.”

The blonde looked around at the shambles of the hallway. “Yeah, you’re right. But a little tape and glue will patch those up.” Sam pointed to the jumble of photographs, frames, and glass on the floor. “I’m not sure what it would take to mend us,” her voice trailed off, “or if it’s even possible.”

“Don’t you understand?” Brooke stood up. “I could care less about that shit out there,” Brooke motioned to the hallway and the smashed guitar by the entranceway of the room. “I care about you. I want you. I love you.” Blue eyes riveted to Sam, imploring her to give them a second chance.