scream fan

idk what i'm doing i'm just here for the ride he/him

[smolmakerel]

tw: suicidal ideation/thoughts

*****

It would be easy, Tara thinks.

Easy as pie. Though, Tara doesn't like pie all that much. Piece of cake sounds much better, and she would much rather have cake before she dies than pie.

Right, I guess we skipped a few steps here.

It was a gloomy day. Fog stuck to the cold NYC streets like a sucker to fresh carpet. And although people had their vision impaired because of the fog, they still flashed their brights and rammed their horns.

While in any other state this would cause some disaster, New Yorkers were unfazed by the possibility of death to the point that Tara, glued to the window, would observe if there were car accidents outside.

Tara, unlike those outside, was in the perfect environment. She was out of the way, cooped up in a New York apartment that they had gotten surprisingly cheap considering it wasn't the size of a closet. A tall glass of orange juice sat untouched by the side of her.

Every-so-often, Tara would slowly dip her finger tip into the orange liquid and dab it on the window sill. The small trail of ants there scurried back for more. She watched with a head tilt.

Ants could work all day and never be tired. Not like they had much of a choice, taking their job so seriously that they adapted to serve an ant queen. Trekking forward with no second thoughts, bulldozing ahead with determination, marching with pride.

Tara wished she had the confidence.

It would be easy, she justified in her head. There were a couple of ways around the building she fixated on, but her mind drifted back to the gun locked in Sam's lock box.

For safekeeping, of course. Tara didn't need to interact with it at all, but… ever since the day Sam came back with it, Tara had been silently idolizing the gun. From the sleek handle to how heavy it felt in her hands.

How would it feel against her head? Would she go through with it or back out like always?

She always had second thoughts when standing on the roof. Guilt churned in her stomach whenever she held a knife for longer than necessary.

She tried to starve herself once, but Sam did that annoying thing she does where she'll hover all over Tara's personal space until the girl snapped.

With how much she snapped, it was only a matter of time until nobody cared. She was waiting for that moment. It never seemed to arrive.

“Nobody would miss me” was something she would say, but it eventually transformed into “I doubt anybody would miss me”. A deep hole she couldn't climb out of dug deeper just to watch her struggle.

She loved her small family; she did, truly. But it felt like she couldn't do it anymore. She didn't have the right nor the will to keep going.

She imagined what happened after death was much like the sticky fog below. You open your eyes in the dark, fog swirling oddly at your ankles, and wait for death to fully take you. She would see Sam one last time, her own version of Sam, before submitting to the fog.

Quick. Painless. It was everything she'd ever hoped for.

The only question was this: Would she hesitate with a loaded gun to her cranium? Could she work up the nerve to sneak into Sam's room, steal the gun, and blow her brains out?

It would be quick. It would be painless.

Tara tuned in to the door opening and slamming shut.

“Tara! I'm back, and I got your favorite ice cream!”

A reflexive smile plastered onto her face. She called back to Sam in the most cheery voice she could muster, “Thanks! Give me a second!”

Her smile fell with an exhausted sigh. She picked up the glass of orange juice and walked out of her room.

Sam fixed her with a curious stare. “I didn't know you liked orange juice. You never did when you were a kid.”

“Things change.” Tara shrugged. She smiled enough so that it would reach her eyes but not her heart. “Besides, I can't finish this anyway. Ants got into it.”

Today was a bust. Tomorrow was another day.

[smolmakerel]

Very obsessed with your home on the range au

Thanks! I'm trying to get back into the process of writing it tbh so hopefully a new chapter soon 🙂

Dang, this was also a really late reply 🤣!

[smolmakerel]

Home on the Range

Part(s) 1 . 2 .

■■■■■

Guilty. It's official and everything.

She moved at least 20 steps backwards since graduating from high school a couple months ago. She had scholarships and dreams to move out east, following Mindy and Chad to New York City. She was going to study, funnily enough, law. She probably would've ended up switching her major halfway through the year, but she actually liked what law had to offer.

Well, too late now. She fucked it all up.

And the worst part wasn't even that her friend-girlfriend-person-maybe (she had no idea at this point) walked away scott free. That was a whole thing to think about later when she was alone on the farm. The worst thing was that she found out the farm owner's identity.

10 minutes before showing up.

Sitting grumpy on the couch, Tara glared holes into the wall as a probation officer explained the rules to Mamá and her. Her ankle was weighed down by a bulky strap and box about the size of a deck of cards, blinking green occasionally.

They tagged her like a fucking dog.

“I'll have to go outside to finish my morning chores, but I'll be back by noon, okay Tara?”

Tara scowled at the ground. She knew she looked like a child in timeout, arms crossed and face angry, but she didn't care.

“Whatever…” Tara muttered.

Mamá caught her eye and glared. “Tara, I know you haven't seen your sister in a while, but I'd appreciate it if you cooperated for once.”

Tara scoffed.

The probation officer pulled at his collar at the spike in awkward tension. “The 60-day house arrest begins as soon as that device blinks red in about an hour. After that, a judge will review your case again with my notes of being your probation officer and will either issue more time to your arrest or let you go free. From there, you can apply to get this expunged from your record and, if approved, the information will be wiped clean.”

Tara waited for more, but there wasn't anything else being said. “Wait, that's it?”

“Nice try, kiddo.” Tara rolled her eyes at Sam's voice. She still refuses to look at her, see how much better she's doing compared to Tara. “While we were working things out, I… Tara, can you look at me?”

Tara sneered, stubbornly not looking at her sister.

“Awkward…” the probation officer whispered.

“Look at me, don't look at me - Fine, I don't care. You're not staying cooped up in the house for the entire house arrest.”

Tara snorted. “Then what the hell's the point of it being called house arrest?”

“Tara!” Mamá snapped. Tara flinched a little but mostly held her ground. “Show your sister some… respect.” See, even Mamá doesn't like Sam. Must run in the family since Papi left after something Sam did. “It's only 2 months and then you can come back home. I won't make you into a work horse like your sister.”

“What?” Tara blinked and sat up. She took a quick glance at Sam before averting her gaze. Why was she glaring at Mamá? “What do you mean?”

“You're going to be working on the farm with me. The land's all my property,” Sam explained. “All of this land is my ‘house,’ so to speak, so you'll be working on it.”

Tara couldn't believe this! She got arrested, she's forced to live with her fucking sister on house arrest for 2 months, and she had to work on a farm. How could this day get any worse?

Sam straightened her back and crossed her arms. “And I didn't want her to -”

“Oh, I have to get back to Woodsboro, I have a client I need to meet with,” Mamá interrupted whatever Sam was saying and clapped her hands. She turned and pulled a stiff Sam into a hug, muttering something in her ear.

She couldn't help but scoff to cover up her hurt. So Sam could leave her alone for years with Mamá, break every promise they made to each other, never call to see if she was okay or how she was doing, and destroy their relationship…

But she couldn't help keeping contact with Mamá. Over her.

Did Sam enjoy making her hurt? Did she enjoy the years Tara longed for her sister to come back to her, the years Tara mourned a sister she could never hug or laugh with or love?

And Mamá… she knew. She fucking knew how she knelt at Sam's locked door and begged God to bring her sister back, she couldn't do it without her, she needed her, she loves her -

Tara stood up, and all conversation came to a sudden stop.

She risked a small glance around the room before ducking her eyes again. Her teeth nibbled on the skin of her lips as she struggled to find the words she wanted to say.

“I… need to use the bathroom.”

There was a soft pause where Mamá scoffed and the probation officer awkwardly shifted. Tara kind of felt bad for the guy.

Then, “In the hall, go left and it's the center door.” Huh. So she could be helpful. “I was fixing the sink earlier, so the floor might be a little wet.”

Yeah. Thanks.

Tara turned and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her to cover up the angry sob that slipped through. Her legs wobbled, so she squatted down then landed on her bottom.

The bathroom swirled in her vision. She struggled to choke down her emotions. She didn't want Sam to hear her, and she especially didn't want Mamá to hear her. Nothing good happened when Mamá heard her crying.

Fumbling, Tara searched for her inhaler. She could faintly hear Sam in the living room and focused on her voice. It was a one time thing, she wouldn't rely on Sam again.

“I really got to go now, Quentin and Homer are waiting for me by the cattle gate.”

“We'll, uh, be monitoring the ankle bracelet 24/7. Keep if charged, don't take it off, don't go swimming or take a bath‐‐can't be submerged.”

“Okay, thanks Officer Bennett.”

“I need to go now. I'll call later.”

Tara leaned her head back on the door. She brought her inhaler up to her lips and pressed down on the button, inhaling with a raspy gasp. She pulled it away and tried to calm herself down; she was working herself up over nothing.

Sam was her sister, but that didn't mean Tara had to reconnect. 60 days was all they had together, it would pass quickly and she could get back to her life.

Not really since she won't be going to New York City with Chad and Mindy in 2 weeks, but she would make it work.

She had to.

There was a knock on the door, Tara jolted at the sudden noise. Her inhaler fell from her hand and clattered on the ground until Tara scooped it up and held it close to her chest.

“Tara?” Sam's voice was hesitant. “Are you alright?”

Tara sighed. “Fine. What do you want?”

Sam's silence droned on for a long few seconds, and Tara pushed back the worry that she sounded too snippy. She didn't mean to. No one liked when she talked back, especially -

(Deep breath. Calm the flames. The fire wasn't your fault.)

“Mom left but I didn't get your suitcase.”

Tara wanted to laugh at that. Shouldn't she know Tara didn't have a suitcase? Her and Mamá were working together to make her miserable, and fuck it was working. A little too good.

“Mamá said she wouldn't pack anything because she bought all my things and didn't think a criminal needed things to sell for drugs.”

Rich coming from her. She's the one who stole Tara's bed to sell for alcohol when she realized she wasn't making enough at the time to fund the house and be an alcoholic. Tara had to sleep on the rug in her room for a few months before eagerly offering to take Mindy's old mattress when she needed a new one.

“... What?” Sam actually sounded pissed off. She was a great actress. Sam sighed. “I might have some old clothes you can wear, but we're going to get you new clothes soon.”

Confused, Tara looked down at the puddle on the ground between her converse.

“I know you haven't seen me and I haven't seen you in a while, and this isn't the most ideal situation for us, but I love you, okay?”

Tara refused to breathe. Her shoulders shook.

“I'll be outside, if you need me you can walk straight until you get to the cattle gate. And we can watch a movie with dinner tonight if you want?”

Tara closed her eyes.

“... Right. Um, I'll just… yeah…”

As Sam left, Tara could hear her angrily muttering to herself.

All the tension drained from her body once Tara heard the screen door shut. She opened her eyes and wiped the wetness on her cheeks.

Amber was right about her. Sam really was a manipulative person.

[smolmakerel]

I decided to do it. I'm writing a full story. Let's hope I can complete it. 😂

Edit: I have a name for this au.

Home on the Range

Part(s) 1 . 2 .

■■■■■

“Mami?”

“Tara, I really don't want to hear your excuses anymore.”

Tara sunk down in her seat, shoulders up to her ears in shame. Her rumpled clothing pressed uncomfortably around her skin, no doubt leaving behind the indent of the inseam of her clothing. She gave a small tug at her shirt collar and wrinkled her nose at the pungent vodka dried into the fabric.

She took a glance at her mamá and ducked her head to keep from catching her eyes. Her face was carefully set, her eyes staring at the empty chair across from them. Her silence was loud, Tara was uncomfortable.

“You just had to go out after I specifically told you not to. Do you know what something like that does to this family?”

Tara scoffed, anger rising. “What family?”

The squeak she let out was of fear when Mamá snapped her head to the side to glare daggers at her.

“Don't talk to your mother that way,” Mamá snapped. “You don't get to talk to me like that after all I've done for you.”

Tara felt a flare of pride, or maybe it was remaining liquid courage. Either way, she was unfiltered and wading towards the danger zone rapidly.

“You haven't done anything for me! Look at where we are! You think this is what you call good parenting?!”

Mamá's face grew red. Before she could yell some more or worse, hit Tara, the door opened and a man in sleek khaki dress pants, white button up shirt, and a loud green tie stepped into the room. He barely paid the two women any attention before sitting down at the empty chair.

“I've looked at your case,” the lawyer started slowly, and Tara and her mom shared a look. “The police want to charge you for driving under the influence. Now, from what I've seen evidence-wise, your fingerprints weren't on that tank of gas, so arson won't be added to your charges.”

Tara let out a sigh of relief.

“But that doesn't mean the other charge is going to drop.”

Mamá hummed. She twisted the ring on her thumb slowly, intimately. It was nauseating.

“What are our options?” Mamá asked sharply. Tara flinched despite herself.

He sighed. “If you plead not guilty, you'll end up serving time in the county jail before being moved to a state prison. CCTV footage shows you and your friend leaving that building intoxicated and you getting in the driver's seat. And the police didn't like a fellow policeman's daughter being involved with troubled youths; especially one who supposedly set fire to that same building. Luckily everyone inside was okay.”

Tara winced. No, that's… They've got it all wrong.

“The jury won't appreciate the raw evidence contradicting what you said. You're not guilty? They won't believe you,” he said. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on her folded hands. “I have another option.”

Mamá sighed. “Out with it, then, I don't have all day.”

Tara rolled her eyes. This was probably the first time she's been decently sober in years, she's probably having spasms.

“You plead guilty.”

Tara froze. Mamá froze. The lawyer stared cooly at the 2 women processing this information.

It should be funny but it's not. Innocent little Tara Carpenter arrested and charged with a DUI and probably arson, too, managing to escape the actual fire but not the police. Graduated top of her class as valedictorian, shoved down to the bottom to grovel for mercy.

She was no better than her.

Tara grit her teeth at the mere thought of her.

“I will not have a daughter with a criminal record!” Mamá stood suddenly in anger. Her chair screeched and clattered back to the floor. “She's 18, she can deal with it herself!”

Fear filled Tara's body. “No, Mamá, please don't leave!” She turned back to the blank lawyer and shook. “Tell - Tell me what would happen if I plead guilty. Please.”

He quirked his lip. “You take a hit to your record, of course, but it can be requested to be expunged later down the line should you take probation seriously.” He waited for Tara's hurried nod before continuing. “You will stay in county jail for 5 days before being let out on probation in compliance with California's laws.”

Tara looked at her mamá, but the woman stood where she was with her arms crossed and face hardened. Swallowing, the teenager turned back to the lawyer.

“A-and the laws are..?”

The lawyer tutted, eyed her with distaste. “18 and you don't know the laws of your state?” Tara fought back her scowl. This lawyer was the worst. “For the entirety of your probation, you will need to be near this city where the sentencing will take place. I assume you live close by?”

… Oh. Oh no. Mamá was going to kill her for real.

Mamá set her hands on the table. “No, I don't. But…” Tara jolted at the word, confusion growing. “I do have someone just thirty minutes north of here with decent traffic. She lives on a farm by herself, but I'm sure she'd be glad to help out.”

Tara shakily breathed while the older adults were speaking.

What was her mamá talking about? Since when did she know some strange farm woman nearly 3 hours away from Woodsboro? She hoped it wasn't another Tía Isabel who she was pretty sure wasn't actually related to her.

“There is one more condition.”

“What is it?” Tara warily asked.

The lawyer smiled.

[smolmakerel]

i have a question.

why

I found it on the internet and thought it was funny 😂 It was also either that or Obama and Shrek going in for a kiss lmao!

[smolmakerel]

Sam turned over on the couch, burying her face into the throw pillow beneath her head. She could faintly hear Danny speaking to her from the kitchen as he stumbled and hissed.

"Don't hurt yourself," Tara called out.

Danny didn't answer.

Sam was pissed, but any energy she had to put into being pissed off evaporated. Her exhaustion weighed on her shoulders like thousands of bricks.

Sam shook her head and sat up. Her arm cast shot out to catch herself when she wobbled and threatened to fall off the couch.

Tara watched her struggle with sad eyes. "Sam, you're not getting better."

"I don't need to get better," Sam whispered to her sister. "I have to take care of you. Don't you understand that?"

"By killing yourself in the process?" Tara stood up in anger. Her hands grasped at the air in frustration, face twisting. "You can't help me, Sam. Help yourself for once. Please."

Sam looked away with the clenching of her jaw showing her frustration.

"Help me help you. I love you! Te amo mucho, Sam, but you stopped going to therapy -"

"They never help," Sam weakly said.

"- and you're wallowing in guilt. It was an accident and there's nothing you can do about it now," Tara said. Her eyes closed, shoulders relaxed, and she sighed. "You promised me you'd keep going."

"B-But I can't - I'll stop -!"

"Sam?"

Sam frantically stood up and ushered for Tara to return to her room. Danny watched the movement with sadness and didn't react to the slamming of Tara's door. He never reacted, not anymore. It was like Tara wasn't one of his priorities like she used to be.

He walked over and sat down on the couch, placing a fresh plate of eggs and toast on the coffee table.

"Sam... you should sit down," Danny told her and she hesitantly sat, hugging the throw pillow to her chest. "I know things haven't been the same since what happened, but you know I'm always here for you."

Sam huffed. "You don't have to be. You could leave, get out while you still can."

"And leave you all alone? Sometimes I think you want me to leave." Danny smiled without humor. When he noticed the blankness of Sam's face, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Have you been going to therapy?"

Shame lit a torch to Sam's face. Leave it to Tara to accidentally tell Danny about Sam's terrible adventures in therapy. And here she thought the two would never speak again.

She studied his face and saw nothing but concern for her. Her eyes drifted up to his hairline where the cut on his forehead was just beginning to heal. The stitches would dissolve soon. Her eyes drifted to the left where she was blinded.

Sam quickly snapped her vision back front and shuddered a sigh. Her thigh was gently grabbed for her own reassurance.

"No use for therapy," Sam spat. "I don't need licensed professionals telling me how I fucked up."

"Sam -"

"Can you just - Please leave."

"Sam, please, this isn't what -"

"Thanks for breakfast," Sam droned on, losing the spark of energy she once had, "but I want to be alone."

Danny nodded. He stood and left a thoughtful kiss to the top of Sam's head before leaving. The front door closed, and Sam slumped.

She stared down at the cast on her arm, tracing the words and the drawings of multiple cartoonish penises.

"You had to push him away, didn't you?"

Sam put her face in her hand. "You know I had to. He -"

"- was being too nice, but he's pushy sometimes about your health. I know, Sam, I know better than you think I do."

Sam twitched.

"Sam, come on! I know better than you think I do! Just once without a Ghostface threat, please!"

"Fine fine! Let me -"

"Sam!"

"Don't tell me that. Don't you dare tell me that!" Sam yelled at Tara. The guilt immediately hit her in the chest, but Tara didn't appear fazed at all. She didn't react anymore. Both her and Danny have been acting weird.

"Go to therapy. You promised me that you'd keep going."

"That was before -"

"I know," Tara interrupted her again, voice soft. "I know."

Sam nodded and looked down. "I'll go. For you." Her stiff words did little to change Tara's facial expression. "I still have Wren's number, so I don't have to search for another therapist."

Tara nodded. "Good."

"And please change your clothes, you've been in that same outfit for days now," Sam teased her.

Tara only quirked her lip and began to go back to her room. Panic sparked in Sam's chest.

"Wait!" Tara stopped. She didn't turn around. "Can - Give me a hug first?"

Tara glanced back at Sam and smiled. Her eyes showed nothing. "Good night, Sam."

Sam breathed shakily as she plopped down so she was laying on the couch. She wiped at her wet eyes. It seemed like she wasn't ready to quit crying yet.

■■■■■

"Sam! Long time no see! Come in, come in!"

Sam shuffled into her therapist's office. She wished she could've taken Tara with her for support, but Tara never wanted to leave the apartment anymore.

"Sorry I haven't been by in a couple weeks," Sam apologized with a smile. It was crooked and awkward, but Wren wasn't disturbed by it. "Life, you know?"

Wren nodded. "I understand. Would you like to sit by the window today?"

Sam looked nervously at the window. The bright sun was shining through, but all Sam could see was -

"Sam, come on, open your eyes!"

She flinched.

Wren didn't comment when Sam took them to the seating away from the window. Usually Sam enjoyed the fresh rays of light warming her up, but now all it brought was dread.

"So," Wren started with a smile, "how's life been treating you?"

Sam shrugged. "I mean, it's been hard. I hit my head, broke my arm. You would've thought I was invincible with how many Ghostfaces I've dealt with."

"Five now, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Sam shifted in her seat. "Tara shouldn't have had to deal with either of them. I'll make sure she won't have to even hear about the next one."

"What makes you so sure there'll be a next Ghostface?" Wren asked to which Sam snorted.

"They always come back. I'm kind of used to it already."

Wren scribbled something down on his notepad while Sam drummed on her fingers on her leg. Words burned in her throat. This was for Tara. She had to do this for -

"I was in an accident a few weeks ago."

Wren looked up, surprise coloring his face. It was one of the first times Sam brought something up that didn't have anything to do with Woodsboro, Ghostface, or Tara.

"I um, I was driving us back to the apartment and we just. You know how accidents work."

"And did everyone get out okay?"

"Yeah. We're all fine." Sam picked at her cast.

We're all fine.

■■■■■

"Sam - Sam, stop, you're drunk."

Sam shook her head at Danny's words. She pushed him back to lay on his mattress and climbed on top of him.

"'M not drunk, jus' a lil tipsy," Sam slurred.

Danny sighed. "Sam -"

"Danny..." She grabbed his hand and dragged it to the hem of her shirt. His breath hitched at the way she easily guided his hand up to her bra. "You make me feel so good, I jus' wanna be happy."

"Sam, I want you too." He pulled his hand away and sat up, dragging Sam further onto his lap. "I want you so much, but you're drunk and I won't do that to you."

Sam's face twisted in anger. Her flushed cheeks became hotter from the embarrassing dismissal of her failed seduction attempt.

"But Wren told me - he told me to find a way to be happy! Sex makes me happy!" Sam's bottom lip wobbled. Her emotions switched from anger to immense sadness. "Do you not love me anymore, is that why you won't fuck me?"

Danny pressed a chaste kiss to her neck and hugged her. "I do love you, princess."

"Then why won't you make me happy..?"

"This isn't something sex can fix. You're hurting and looking for a way to fix it, but, Sam," Danny said, pulling back to stare into Sam's glossy eyes, "I promise this isn't the way to do it."

Sam began to cry. Loud and trembling sobs fell from her as Danny swept her up and wiped her tears away as best he could. She was apologizing, begging to be forgiven. She wasn't a monster, she wouldn't force Danny to have sex with her. Danny shushed her, he forgave her. He was the good one between the two of them. Sam didn't know why Danny was still there when all she did was destroy everything she loved.

"Te amo mucho... I'm sorry... I love you..."

"I love you, too. I forgive you, it's okay."

Sam wasn't talking to Danny.

■■■■■

Sam anxiously stared at Tara's closed door. It wasn't opening, Tara wasn't going to come out for game night. She even invited Kirby so the two of them could team up and pick on Gale who she also invited.

"Okay... Okay! 4 words!"

Sam drew her attention to Chad and Mindy who were continuing the game with the others. Mindy was holding up 4 fingers and shaking her head at Chad's words. She waved her hand and enunciated the 4.

Chad snapped his fingers. "Oh! Oh, I know!"

Mindy groaned.

"4 words!"

Gale gave Chad a look of disappointment. "Kids these days are unbelievably stupid."

Mindy nodded to Chad's dismay.

Danny noticed Sam's attention being drawn back to Tara's door. He leaned over and squeezed her knee. "You gonna join us?" Danny whispered in her ear.

"In a minute," she muttered. "Tara hasn't even come out to say hi."

"... Maybe she's tired. We should let her rest."

He was right - Sam knew he was right - but it was her protective instincts kicking into overdrive. Maybe she should just go check on her.

As she stood up, Mindy groaned. "Seriously, we only got one in a minute?!"

"It's not my fault you suck at the game, Minds."

"Chad, I swear I'll kick you from being my partner!"

"And replace me with who? Kirby?"

"Sorry, you two," Kirby said, relaxing into her arm chair with a smirk, "I'm already taken."

"You can have her." Gale eyed Kirby up and down with distaste. Kirby looked offended.

"Sam, maybe we should go next," Danny suggested as he stood up next to Sam. Sam worriedly eyed the door again, but Danny grabbed her uninjured hand and gave her a mischievous grin. "We can take the win easily. What do you say?"

Sam licked her lips. "I don't know how Tara would feel if we played without her."

Danny's grin shrunk to a soft lift of the corner of his mouth. "I won't tell her if you don't."

Sam's eyes slid to the door. She could sense Danny's concern for her, but all she could think about was how alone Tara must be. She could knock on the door and invite her, then she could linger in the room if Tara said no. Tara always laughed whenever Sam dramatically flopped next to her to cheer her up for game night.

But maybe she wanted to be alone. For now.

■■■■■

"Where have you been?!" Sam screamed at Tara when she finally appeared from her room for the first time in a week. She couldn't be guilty for screaming because she cared. "You haven't called, you haven't texted! What if you needed me and I wasn't there?!"

Tara watched Sam pace in front of her. She was still in that same outfit despite Sam asking her to change. Her eyes were still blank, and they made Sam slightly uncomfortable with how closely they followed her.

"You know I don't need you anymore," Tara claimed. "And you know it, too. Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Sam?"

Sam squeezed her eyes shut.

"I don't need you. You need me."

"Stop it. Tara, please -"

"It wasn't your fault. I know what you've been telling your therapist and even Danny - about what happened being because of what you did - but you need to stop. It's time."

Sam squeezed her hands into fists. Her fingers bunched awkwardly on her cast.

"I-I can't - stop -"

"You need to move on. You can't help me anymore."

"Tara..!"

"You want proof? I know where it is. You told nobody else where it was - nobody - but I want you to look under your bed."

Fear rose in Sam's chest. She knew what was under there. She tried to deny it.

"I-I can't! Tara, please, don't do this! Let me have this a little longer, please!"

Nothing.

"Tara?"

Nothing.

"T-Tara..?"

Nothing.

■■■■■

Sam and Danny stared down at the box in silence. Sam's throat was thick, and her eyes were dead.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Danny asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak.

Nodding to himself, Danny slowly reached into the box and pulled out the carefully tended to urn. He unwrapped it and gave it to Sam.

Sam stared at the urn in her hands. It was light. Sam knew it would be.

"I'm still not ready to say goodbye yet," Sam choked out.

Danny squatted down by the couch. He searched for the right words to say. "It doesn't have to be goodbye. It can be... see you later."

Sam passed her thumb over her favorite picture of Tara. It was one she took with her when she ran off after her 18th birthday. Tara was 10 in this picture and wearing Sam's old clothes. She was smiling, big and wide, and posing for the flash of the camera. She remembered this birthday as clear as day.

Tara had begged Sam to take her somewhere fun for her birthday - a happy birthday for once. Despite her angst, Sam couldn't say no. They had ice cream and went to the zoo. Tara bragged about how she wanted to go to a bigger zoo when she was older and work with the animals. She had a soft spot for snakes for whatever reason. Sam laughed it off and took her home so Sam could get high and spend the rest of Tara's birthday in bed.

She was ashamed that she did that for the last few birthdays Tara had.

"She was so young." Sam's throat was burning with held back emotion. The urn shook in her hands. "She didn't deserve that. I should've been more careful."

Danny shushed her. "Wasn't your fault, remember? That guy was drunk."

Sam growled as she remembered stumbling from the car. Danny had received the least injuries, only a small concussion and some bruising. He went to Tara first before immediately going to Sam to pull her away from the upside-down car.

Sam had a broken arm and a concussion. She was still healing in a cast, and her headache sometimes comes back in her grief. She had to lay down on the dirty New York street in shock as many different responders got the her.

Tara...

Sam never actually saw what happened to Tara, but Danny said it was bad. She didn't suffer, that's what the doctors told her.

Sam stood. She walked around the coffee table and to the TV stand. She placed down the urn and turned it, deeming it the perfect spot.

Danny came up behind her and hugged her. All Sam could think of was Tara doing that with her.

But Tara was gone now.

Sam broke down and allowed herself to be put back together by Danny. Some of the pieces were missing, some she'd never get back, but she could find a way to fill the space.

That's what Tara would want.

[smolmakerel]

Warning: slight vomit in 1 early paragraph

■■■■■

Teeth chattering filled the bathroom space followed by ragged gasps. Then the chattering continued.

Tara was sick. She couldn't get sick. Being sick was a weakness, and she needed to get to school. She couldn't risk her mamá finding out she took a day off to recover.

She blinked her eyes opened and blinked away the film of exhaustion glazing over her irises. She took in a deep, chilly breath from the bathroom's freezing temperature. She coughed suddenly, unable to handle the biting frost in her airway.

She needed to - She needed to get warmer. That should get rid of the fever bashing into her skull.

Her weak arms moved and her torso twisted. She reached for the shower from the closed toilet seat, fell, and halfway caught herself on the side of the tub. The solid wall hugged the soft of her stomach and the bottom of her ribs. She gasped for air, trying to take the pressure off of her stomach.

A low, wet belch erupted from her mouth and acid rose. All of what she had earlier - Sammy insisted on chicken broth - was dripping from her mouth and rushing down the dry tub to the drain. Tara watched in a strange fascination.

"Okay... Okay, you got this, Tara, ev'rythin's gonna be alright," Tara drunkenly reassured herself. "Todo va... Mhm, 'M okay. Just gotta..."

Tara pushed all of her weight up onto her hands. Her stomach rolled at the change in height. Vertigo set in. She wobbled and tipped until she somehow was crumpled into a ball of body pain and misery. Groaning, she reached blindly up and turned the shower handle to the right.

She nearly shrieked as ice pelted her face. She froze up, teeth chattering harder than before. Her clothes were soaked already. They needed to come off. She had to feel all of the heat. She needed to warm up.

Hands shaking, Tara peeled her shirt off of her body before following with her sweatpants. They were supposed to go on the mat on the other side of the tub, but Tara's aim was off and it landed behind her.

Her hands fidget with the clasp of her bra, determined to also take it off but not precise enough to grab and unhook it. She briefly contemplated shucking it off like a shirt, but she thought if she raised her arms again more liquid would come out.

She grimaced as she remembered the shrinking streak of her own vomit she was sitting in. It was all she could smell now, all she could focus on.

'Mamá is gonna kill me.'

Fear.

Tara gasped for breath, turned her body so she could feel an equal spray on her clammy skin. She had to get better quickly.

The bathroom was foggy, and Tara's skin tingled. She glanced down at her body and was surprised at the bright red on a little less than half of her body.

Her fear combined with confusion.

Wasn't this supposed to work? Why didn't she feel better? Mamá was gonna be so mad at her.

Tears started to cascade down her face. She was embarrassed for herself. How did she manage to do nothing for the past...

She was pathetic. She was weak.

Her soft cries turned to hyperventilating. Her blubbering was childish and was going to get her into even more trouble.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. Tara's cries grew choked from terror.

She could hear her name being called. The doorknob was rapidly twisting and the door shook in the frame.

She was trying to get inside. She can't get inside, not yet, Tara wasn't ready yet she couldn't do it, she couldn't come in yet, no no no no!

The door finally opened, the door just barely hanging on its hinges.

A woman was standing in the doorframe. She looked like mamá but... kinder? Softer?

Tara didn't trust it. She can't be burned again, she won't allow it.

The woman came closer, and Tara braced herself.

The water turned off.

"Tara, that water's too hot for you," the woman gently scolded her, but she didn't sound angry at all. Of all the emotions Tara thought would be experienced in the bathroom, concern was not one. It threw the girl through a loop. "What are you doing up? You're supposed to be sleeping, mija."

Tara didn't get a chance to frantically apologize to the woman before she was lifted up in a towel. Her knees wobbled once her feet were back on the ground. The woman had her hands on the towel, dutifully drying Tara as best as she could.

"Stop it." Tara weakly pushed the hands away. The woman faltered before her face set. Tara flinched. "'M sorry."

The woman eyed her, but Tara was already losing herself mentally. Her vision was blurring enough for her to go to her safe space. Sammy was there. She always was.

She was quite literally shaken into awareness. She slowly blinked, taking in the new environment of her bedroom. In New York. Sam.

"Where's... Sam?" Tara rasped weakly to the woman.

"You're sick, Tara, you need to rest -"

"No! No, I need Sam! Sam! Sam!" Tara stood. The towel pooled around her ankles. "Sam!"

The woman bent down and grabbed the towel and put it back around her shoulders. Tara hissed and tried to knock the fussy hands away from her, overwhelmed and heartbroken.

Sam left. She's alone with the woman who looks like mamá.

It's only when the short adrenaline rush wears off that the woman is able to sit Tara back down on the foot of the bed, Tara was sobbing. She wasn't even hiding it. She was worthless.

"Work with me, okay? Come on, I got you, I got you. Shh shh shh," the woman cooed and it was calming the girl's erratic breathing. "That's it, you got it. Focus of me and we'll get through this."

Tara was in disbelief. Surely this couldn't be her mamá. Instead of getting kinder with age and growing wisdom, mamá grew bitter and fast to anger. Why do a total 180? To trick Tara?

"Arms up, cariño."

Tara lifted her arms. The towel fell again, but a familiar smell washed over her. She grabbed the collar of her new shirt and brought it up to her nose, sniffing it without shame. Her throat burned and she began to cry.

Hands gently stroked the hair out of her face. Tara hated how quickly she leaned into the warm touch.

"What's wrong?" The woman checked in.

Tara shook her head. "Sa-Sam - She's not comin' back..!" She wailed. Her shoulders shook and her chest heaved, panic was beginning to set in. "I drove 'er off, I did it, I know it! She left me again, I ne-eed her - please, I-I need Sam! Sam!"

Her broken breathing was interrupted as the woman pressed their foreheads together. Tara sharply cut her head to the side. That was only for her and Sam! Not a mamá lookalike.

The woman pressed her hand to the side of Tara's face and neck. Slowly, like a kitten learning how to trust the hand feeding it, Tara turned to the palm and accepted it.

The woman starts, "We don't have much left to do, okay? Just some comfortable pants and -"

"Sam."

The woman stopped, more focused on Tara than ever. "Yes?"

Tara flinched, she looked away. "I want Sam. Nothin' else."

"Not even some pants?"

Shaking her head, Tara stood up and lost her balance. She fell on the woman and grabbed onto her shoulders.

"S-sorry," Tara whimpered.

The woman simply reached down and urged her to step into new sweatpants. Tara's favorite pair - Sam bought them for her - they have Lilo and Stitch on one of the legs. The sudden thought of her missing sister slammed into her.

She was lifted into the air, hugged tightly. Tara squeezed the woman's shoulders with her arms, and her nose nuzzled into her neck.

Her back was laid against the bed. She clung to the woman when she tried to leave. The woman eased her down each time a frisson of nervousness for her sister hit her aching body.

"You're okay, you're okay, I'm not going anywhere," she assured Tara who, in relief, went limp on the bed. The woman knelt by the bed, fingers carding through Tara's damp hair.

The action soothed Tara more than she liked to admit. She shuffled on the bed to lay on her side, trying to soak up the affection better.

Her eyes were heavy, weighed down by sickness and exhaustion. As soon as her eyelids closed, she snapped them back open.

The woman frowned. Her thumb brushed across the dust of freckles on her cheeks.

"Don't leave me," Tara whispered.

"Never," the woman responded quickly. Her eyes softened. "Go to sleep, Tara. I'll be here when you wake up."

A low whine of relief escaped her. With the permission to fall asleep, Tara relaxed. Her vision went black and she was sucked into a decent sleep.

When she groggily woke up, she could hear Sam talking in a hushed whisper on the phone. At first she was curious, but theen she just barely heard to oh-so familiar voice of Danny calling Sam "princess" and wanted to levitate to another plane of existence. It was always so cringy.

Sam noticed Tara blearily watching her and quickly ended the conversation without saying bye. Danny was going to pout over that, Tara knew it.

"Go back to sleep, cariño." Sam fixed the cool cloth on Tara's forehead and brushed her knuckles down her cheek.

Tara floated into unconsciousness once again. She was safe. Sam was here.

[smolmakerel]

It was silent. Silence was never a good thing. Tara learned that lesson years ago.

Silence was the short calm before the storm, before the hurricane would mix with the tornado would mix with the earthquake. Footsteps would thunder downstairs, and the liquor cabinets would crack as they slammed shut.

These were delicate moments where she had to treat them with care. All she had to do was bite her tongue, listen for the loud noises downstairs to stop, and breathe a sigh of relief.

Things never went her way, usually.

It took one error - a tiny mistake that any normal person would miss - for shit to hit the fan. It was always her own fault she could never shut herself up.

The storm raced up the stairs with threatening stomps and would slam her door open. The wind would howl at her. The hand that clutched the neck of the bottle would jerk towards her and spill alcohol onto her freshly made bed. The storm had no mercy on Tara when it crashed into her room.

Tara was always caught in the storm. It was ongoing, never stopping even when it wasn't home. Tara was isolated in the eye while the whipping wind threatened to beat her.

She never liked storms. They scared her. Now she couldn't bear to hear a forecast about the upcoming weather.

She knew all she needed to know about weather. Outside was always gray. It was always raining. The storm had rain.

Ice cold rain was for when Tara was bad. It was a shock across her nervous system. The rain pelted like bullets to her back. The wind spat curses at her while she laid in a heap on the floor to protect herself. Cold rain brought cold wind which threw rocks shaped like fists into her body. If only the rain chilled the blooming red under her clothes.

Lukewarm rain was when Tara was left alone. She would be in her room, palm over her mouth, rocking back and forth, as she waited for the storm to die down. She forced herself to bite the inside of her cheeks bloody when the stomps neared her door only to pass and continue to the room down the hall.

Scalding rain was the storm's way of embracing her, soothing her by assuring her it wouldn't happen again. She should know by now that the hot rain was a front, but Tara couldn't help but lean into the heat as she waited for her body to accept the warmth.

She was never warm in the end.

Silence was trouble. Silence was a pair of hands around her neck, deciding whether or not to tighten and watch her struggle for mercy.

She couldn't lock her door to keep the storm out; the storm ripped the knob from her door and kept it in a box under its bed. Tara hadn't gotten anything back from that box in years.

There was no way she could be safe. Taking shelter somewhere else wasn't an option no matter how loudly Amber argued with her.

Tara would much rather deal with the storm than Amber's silence. At least then she knew how to disappear and beg for forgiveness.

Amber's silence was... unsettling. Tara had known the girl for all her life, but sometimes it felt like she knew nothing about her at all.

Amber puzzled her most times. The things she says don't match up to what Tara knows, but Amber was quick to turn the tables. She fired shot after shot, cracking Tara's confidence into smaller pieces. Then she would scoop her up and gently chastise her for not believing Amber.

"We all go through things, Tara, you're not special. Why should I believe a word you say when you barely make enough sense on a good day?"

Amber's love was too different from the storm's love. Where the storm eventually apologized, bathing her with rain that blistered and bruised her skin, Amber gave her love constantly. It felt good, but it was too much all the time. Amber never took no for an answer.

She loved it. She did. She knew what love was. She knew what Amber's love did.

Amber's love was physical. Her love was insistent hugging and kissing that had Tara clamming up in unnecessary discomfort. Her love was a gun she consistently fired into Tara's head. Her love was holding her hand as they walked out of the hospital together. Her love was promising to never love her so hard that Tara had to go to the hospital in the first place, but she deserved it. Tara had to deserve it, right?

The storm's love was usually emotional. Sometimes physical. It was calmer than the explosion from Amber.

Calmness was all Tara ever wanted. She wanted her... She didn't want the silence anymore.

Silence was never a good thing.

[smolmakerel]

"Dos oruguitas... enamoradas... pasan sus noches y madrugadas..."

Sam (ladybug miraculous holder Mariquita [Ladybug], to be specific) stepped out of the portal created by the holder of the rabbit miraculous. Her eyes were wide as she took in the ruined Paris.

Buildings were tipped over and somewhat shattered. A thick fog surrounded the edges of the city, or at least as far as Sam could see, and threatened to come forward and smother her. Glancing down towards the streets, Sam could see they were flooded with water which was steadily rising.

What the hell happened here?

When Sam first came to Paris for a job opportunity (a clever cover for whenever she saw her mother), she never expected to be gifted a pair of earrings for protecting the city from a magical terrorist. She never expected to have a partner, Gatita [Kitten] who acted like she was years younger than her (which, she probably was considering how much she talked about having to get home before her mother came back) who wielded the power of the black cat's destruction with ease.

What she never expected was to see her sister again - so close where she could touch her and not observe from afar.

She didn't want it to be under these conditions, either.

And if Christina hadn't mentioned Tara to her boss before dad... he left, she probably would've left Tara alone in Woodsboro.

"Llenas de hambre..."

Sam looked around in confusion. She knew she heard somebody singing when she first stepped out of the portal, but she figured she had imagined it.

Swallowing, Sam spun her yo-yo around and walked forward with caution. She could see the singing person sitting on the edge of what used to be the news and media tower. They were clad in all white leather, rocking back and forth without a thought.

It was sad to look at. Like a child zoning out to help deal with the pain.

Sam knew what that was like. She knew she deserved to feel that way, though, for what she did.

Leave.

Wait.

"Gatita?" Sam called out.

The singing stopped.

The person tilted their head to the side, the leather ears on their head flicking back before shooting up. They stand up and - oh.

Sam felt sick to her stomach.

"Mariquita!"

That was her partner. But... it wasn't her at the same time.

Gatita was staring at her with a wide grin that suited the Cheshire Cat more than her, and she was thin as a twig. It was as if she hadn't eaten in days.

Maybe months if what Tikki said about how the miraculous could help survive your body for a long while was true.

"You're back! I thought I lost you forever!" Gatita's voice wobbled with tears pent up over time. She took a step closer to Sam who, in turn, took a wary step back. "Oh... You're scared of me."

Sam shook her head. "I'm not scared of you, Gatita. But you... you are akumatized."

She stopped spinning her yo-yo and inched closer to her partner. She was staring at her feet, so Sam gently lifted her head by cupping her face. Gatita's breathing shuddered as she took in the warmth. It hurt Sam's heart more than she would admit.

"Save me..." Gatita whimpered.

Sam nodded. "I will! Where - Where's your akuma?"

Gatita closed her eyes and took Sam's hands in her own. She brought one of them to her chest - over her heart.

"It's right here. I... This kitty got into a bit of trouble and couldn't get out of it."

Sam nodded. "Ok. I got you." She hugged her partner and held back her tears. She had grown to love the troublemaking cat like another sister. "I'll help you."

"You're already helping me."

Before Sam could question the change in tone, she was grabbed by her wrists and thrown above Gatita. Her back hit the roof, and the air exited her lungs harshly.

"F-fuck..." Sam gasped.

"Cataclysm!" Gatita grinned down at Sam. "Once I get your miraculous, none of this'll even matter anymore!"

Sam rolled out of the way and spun her yo-yo in a hurry. Part of the roof turned to ash beneath Gatita's hand and crumbled away.

"Gatita!" Sam dodged another attack.

Gatita screamed. "That's not my fucking name anymore!"

Sam backed away. Her foot hit the ledge. She looked down at the water.

"It's Cheshire now," she growled out. "And she doesn't want to take your miraculous from your corpse."

"You aren't getting my miraculous ever!"

With that, Sam flung herself backwards.

Cheshire dove after her. "You can't run from destiny, Sam!"

... What?

Sam gaped at the cat as she fell. "What?"

Cheshire's grin grew wider. Sam felt nauseous.

"Sam Carpenter! Samantha..." Cheshire raised her hand. "Cataclysm!"

Sam hit the top of a bus and flipped backwards away from the cataclysm. A burst of negative energy shot out in a ring around them, and the water rippled below.

"How..." Sam began with wide eyes, "How do you know my name? We aren't -"

"Supposed to know who each other are?" Cheshire finished for her. She stood up and shook her hand off. "I found out who you were. And look what I did because of it! What we did because of it."

Sam looked at the sunken Paris and took notice of the moon shattered in halves.

They did this? Then where was the future Mariquita?

Cheshire cocked her head and smiled at the unasked question. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

Her face dropped into a scowl, and she raises her arm. A ball of white cataclysm was between her fingers, ready to snap and shoot at Sam.

"Now give me your miraculous!"

●○●○●○●○

Tara blinked as she watched Mariquita exit her room using the window.

"Mariquita?" Tara mumbled, a half smile on her face.

Today was tough for her. It was the anniversary of Sam officially leaving her when she was so young. She had her suspicions that Sam planned on leaving on her 18th birthday, but had to wait until she had more money to do so.

She told Mariquita about how this week would be tough for her, and it looked like she was trying to cheer her up.

Tara smiled.

Mariquita... She was like another sister to her. Deep down, Tara knew she could never replace Sam, but all Sam's been doing since they've met in Paris was piss her off. Mariquita, on the other hand, was Sam before Papi left.

Helpful, nice, loving.

Now? She was kind of annoying. Always stalking Tara in some way.

Tara wanted nothing to do with her. She left for years and decided to reconnect when Tara was grown up and resentful?

Shaking away her thoughts, Tara approached the note left on her bed. She picked it up and frowned.

"What's the hold-up, Bangs?" Plagg flew out from the inner pocket of her jacket. He snickered at her bewildered expression. "What? Cat got you tongue?"

"Sam?" Tara muttered, running her fingers over the signature. "Why would Mariquita give me a letter from Sam?"

Unless...

Tara gasped and nearly dropped the letter. Frantically, she tore the paper open and read it, feeling tears spill down her cheeks.

Plagg, fortunately, stayed quiet while she took the letter in.

She smiled. Then she frowned. "But... if Sam and Mariquita are one and the same, then I..."

Plagg began to panic, showing her a wheel of stinky camembert cheese. "Who cares about Mariquita? We should totally cat out on this delicious cheese!"

"I've got to talk to her! I have to apologize!"

Sam being Mariquita made a hell of a lot of sense!

Mariquita. She was always there for Gatita whenever she did something stupid. Always eager to try and shield her even though Gatita was there to shield Mariquita. Paris couldn't be saved unless Mariquita stopped trying to sacrifice herself and casted her Lucky Charm.

Sam... She was always near where Tara was. Always trying to talk to her. But Tara shoved her away, venom stinging her words, until Sam backed off.

You can't be hurt if you hurt them first.

How could Tara do this to Sam?

"Plagg, I need to go see Sam!" Tara dropped the letter with a firm nod. "I need to -"

"What?! Kid, you can't reveal your identity to her! You aren't even supposed to know who she is!"

Tara smirked. "Who said I had to tell her who I am? She'd probably make me give up being Gatita, and that can't happen."

"Wait! Let me at least finish my cheese!" Plagg cried.

"No time to lose! Plagg, claws out!"

○●○●○●○●

Sam hopped around the fallen Eiffel Tower with Cheshire hot on her trail. The cat was still flinging bursts of cataclysms at her.

"Cheshire, you have to stop!" Sam yelled.

Cheshire's ears flattened. "Stop? So we won't know who each other is?! Why would I do that when I can take your miraculous?!"

Sam flinched away as a cataclysm stings near her arm.

"Lucky Charm!" Sam tossed her yo-yo up and caught... a mechanical pencil?

Cheshire scoffed. "I wish I could rewrite what happened in the past, but there's only one way to do that now."

Sam ran away from the multiple cataclysms sent at her.

"You can't hide from me forever, Sam!"

Sam hid on top of the fallen tower. She spun her yo-yo as she waited for Cheshire to come up.

"Samantha..!" Cheshire sang with glee. "I know you're up here... Did you know that if a person has both the ladybug and cat miraculous, they can grant one wish? I have a perfect wish, Sam... Don't you want to be together forever? Two peas in a pod, thick as thieves! Dos oruguitas."

Had Sam not been in such a panic, she would've noticed that phrase. She would've noticed that only one person called them that.

She would've noticed that Tara was Gatita. Was Cheshire.

But she didn't.

Sam revealed herself and threw her yo-yo at Cheshire. It wrapped around the baton attached to her back and yanked it back into her hand. Cheshire growled in surprise.

"Your time's up, akuma!" Sam broke the baton and - "What?"

Nothing.

Cheshire called her cataclysm again. "Stop trying to leave me! You can't leave me!"

She slammed her palm on the tower, and spider webs crept towards Sam. She didn't have any time to swing her yo-yo before she was falling a hundred feet into the water below.

Cheshire breathed heavily. She shook her head. "No no no no! SAMANTHA!"

She pulled at her hair and laughed.

●○●○●○●○

Sam sat down beside Danny with a sigh. She met him in New York sometime after leaving California. They became... close... and now he's trying to help her reconnect with Tara.

Trying being the keyword there.

Once Sam heard Christina was moving and taking Tara with her to Paris, she used almost all of her money to buy a plane ticket. Danny, the stupidly handsome man, decided to tag along and pay rent for a shared apartment. From there, he helped establish their cover story for why they moved to Paris.

She appreciated the help, but it was really unnecessary.

Danny only gave her a look of disbelief, and Sam relented.

"Did you give it to her?" Danny asked.

Sam sighed. "Yeah."

"Then why are you so sad still?"

She shrugged.

She wanted to be in Tara's life again, but she didn't think Tara would want to let her in again. She was more of a big sister to Gatita than to Tara.

And she deserved it. She left. She left Tara all alone with that woman. It was all her fault.

"Sam." Danny nudged her.

Sam didn't bother looking up. He probably was going to say something so attractively stupid in an attempt to make out under the Eiffel Tower.

"Sam?"

Now that's new.

Sam snapped her attention up to see Tara. She came.

Tara looked nervous around Sam, shuffling on her feet, but she was determined.

"I uh... I got your letter," awkwardly, Tara said. Her eyebrows come together in distress. "Did you mean it? That you'll never leave me? That you'll always be there?"

Sam stood up slowly. She stepped forward and took her sister's hands in her own. Smiling, Sam nodded.

"I meant every word."

Tears wobble on Tara's eyelid. "¿Prometes? [Do you promise?]"

Sam brought her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. "Nunca romperé este. [I'll never break this one.]"

Tara began to cry.

And Sam was true to her words. Much to their mother's disapproval, Sam and Tara became close again.

Tara kept her identity as Gatita a secret from Sam, and Sam did the same. Tara felt like it didn't really count since she knew Sam's hero identity.

She was guilty. Sam kept next to nothing from her while Tara remained guarded at all times. At least, with part of her life. It was like she wasn't opening up to Sam at all.

And Sam obviously felt that way, too.

She was leaving Paris. She was leaving Tara. She was leaving. Again.

Fucking again.

Tara wanted to lash out when she saw the tears, but Sam had already ran away. Fuck her, then! Tara didn't... she didn't... need her...

She would be lying.

It was suspicious how fast the akuma came. And it was headed straight for Sam.

At first, Tara hated to admit, she thought about letting the akuma get her sister. She was so angry at Sam for breaking her promise. But then how would Tara stomach hurting her akumatized sister?

She revealed herself while cataclysming the akuma.

She didn't expect that information to get back to the villain.

○●○●○●○●

Sam hit the water and shivered. It was freezing.

She looked around underwater as she put her yo-yo to her mouth to breathe. She spotted two figures on the ground, frozen in time.

She swam down towards them and gasped. One of them was the villain. The woman had her arms up and blocking something.

The other one...

Sam's eyes went wide. She reached out and touched the scared face of herself. She crumbled away in the water.

Nauseous, Sam swam to the surface and threw her yo-yo at the nearest building. On her hands and knees, Sam dry heaved and shook all over.

"Do you see now? Why I need you miraculous?"

Sam shook her head. "No, this can't be the only way..!"

"Dios mio..." Cheshire groaned, head tipped back. She stamped her foot on the ground. "You saw what I did. What I became. You can't save me. I was doomed from the start."

Cheshire held out her hand, eyes begging for Sam to cooperate. "Please, Sam. Please give me your miraculous, and we can fix everything together! You won't have to leave me!"

Sam took the opportunity to grab Cheshire's tail-belt and break it, but no butterfly.

Cheshire scowled. "You aren't even listening to me. But I should be used to that by now, right?! No one ever listens to what I want! I'm always left behind!"

Cheshire began to cry. "Why do you keep breaking your promise?! Why can't you stay with me?!"

Sam couldn't dodge the kick to her stomach and laid on the roof in pain, grasping at the spotted armor on her body.

Cheshire shook her head, muttering to herself. "No, you can't hurt her. You need her, she needs you."

Sam backed away, holding her stomach. She knew she was cowering on the ground while Cheshire gathered herself, and that wasn't a smart move on her part. However, she would rather face her partner when she had more clarity than when she talked to herself.

"If I can't have your miraculous, then no one can! Mega Cataclysm!" Cheshire's hands began to shake as she raised them to the sky, a large ball of growing white on her palms. "I'll destroy everything! Not a single fucking atom will be left of the universe when I'm done! ¡Y ese es una promesa que nunca solucionaré! [And that's a promise I'll never break!]"

Sam clenched her jaw. "Wait!"

Cheshire stared at her expectantly.

"I'll give you my miraculous! Just stop! Please!"

The Cataclysm flickered out of existence. Cheshire shook her sore wrists.

"Sorry it had to be like this, Sam." She didn't sound particularly sorry. In fact, she was gleeful.

Sam stood and bit her lip. Cheshire tapped her foot, impatient.

It reminded Sam of Tara, in a way.

"I'm sorry you ended up like this, Gatita," she said.

Cheshire rolled her eyes. "It's Cheshire now."

Sam closed her eyes as Cheshire walked over and rested her head on Sam's chest. Her tense body relaxed against the older woman.

"But I'll forgive you." Her watery voice made Sam slow in her deceit. "I always will, Sam."

Sam snatched the bell from Cheshire's chest and backed away. Her heart burned at the betrayal in those blue eyes.

"Your time's up, akuma!" Sam broke the bell, and the akuma flew out. She quickly caught it and purified it.

Cheshire changed back into her Gatita.

Gatita looked around in confusion, taking in Paris in silence, and her eyes caught Sam.

"Sam?" Gatita questioned, confused. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Sam fought off the urge to hug Gatita tight and never let her go.

Instead...

"I'm sorry," Sam stated in an attempt to remain formal. "We aren't supposed to know each other's identity."

"You aren't my..." Gatita flinched, hurt at the rejection, but she nodded. "I... understand. It's better this way."

Just then, the portal opened and Cottontail poked her head through. Her ombre hair was frizzy as if she was the one running around fighting an akumatized Gatita.

"Uh, hello? We have to get going!" Cottontail said, hopping around. "What are you waiting for?"

Sam looked down at the pencil in her hand. It clicked in her head.

"I know what to do! Gatita, I know how to fix everything!"

Gatita was surprised at the tight hug she was pulled into, but she welcomed it nonetheless. She inhaled Sam's scent and nodded.

"You always do," she chuckled. "I trust you, Sam."

Sam pulled back to run to the portal.

●○●○●○●○

Tara didn't know what to do!

How did things turn out like this? Her sister was Mariquita and her mother -

Christina fucking Carpenter was Monarch. She was the villain terrorizing Paris.

All because she wanted to put her fucked up family back together. A family she tore apart with her lies.

But...

Everyone always left because of Tara, right? That's always what Christina told her, and it's been true so far.

No! Fuck!

It was all her fault!

How could Tara do this?!

"Tara! Mi vida [my life], don't listen to her! She's trying to get in your head!"

Sam.

Tara shook her head. She couldn't do it! She wasn't as strong as Sam, she couldn't fight off the akuma already infecting her mind.

"Sammy..." Tara sobbed. "I-I can't..!"

Sam shook her head. "No! You have to fight her! I believe in you!"

Monarch - No. Christina didn't bother saying anything. She simply grinned. She knew she had Tara right where she wanted her.

When Tara blinked, her black leather turned white and her eyes bled from green to blue.

She didn't know what to do anymore. She couldn't listen to them! She couldn't... take it!

"Sammy..."

Sam closed her eyes. "It's ok. Te amo, Tara. [I love you, Tara]"

Tara screamed, and the world exploded in a bright light.

○●○●○●○●

Tara blinked as she watched Mariquita exit her room using the window.

"Mariquita?" Tara mumbled, a half smile on her face.

Today was tough for her. It was the anniversary of Sam officially leaving her when she was so young. She had her suspicions that Sam planned on leaving on her 18th birthday, but had to wait until she had more money to do so.

She told Mariquita about how this week would be tough for her, and it looked like she was trying to cheer her up.

Tara smiled.

She walked over and picked up the note. She opened it and read the contents.

'Tara,

Life may seem difficult right now, but I know you'll get through it just fine. I've had my eyes on everyone in this city, and I've seen the amazing things you've done for it. You are special, and you are worth it.

If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always available. I'll always listen.

I know we've only worked together a couple of times because of you being targeted by an akuma, but I care about you. You'll always be important to me, even if we never become close outside of my hero identity.

You matter to people.

-Mariquita'

"Bangs? Kid?" Plagg held up a piece of camembert and looked away, embarrassed. "Don't cry. It'll ruin my cheese mood."

Tara chuckled tearfully. "Sorry, just... Mariquita cares about me."

And, maybe, that's good enough for Tara for now.

~*~

"Dos oruguitas... enamoradas..."

Mariquita sat down next to Gatita as she sang softly into the Paris night.

"Where'd you hear that song from?" Mariquita asked.

Gatita turned her bright gaze onto Mariquita, and the woman smiled. It really felt like she was talking to Tara again.

"It's from a movie that came out a couple years ago, but... when I was younger, a friend and I used to call ourselves oruguitas. It means -"

"Caterpillars."

Gatita blinked in surprise before laughing. "Yeah, I should've figured you knew 'cause of your name and all."

Mariquita smiled. Gatita snuggled close and rested her head on her shoulder.

Mariquita and Gatita watch the full moon behind the lit up Eiffel Tower in silence.

[smolmakerel]

I feel like Sam doesn't understand memes/vines due to her not being an internet nerd, and the rest of the Core 4 + Kirby tease her relentlessly for it.

---

Kirby, holding a large plastic cup: This bitch empty! YEET!

Kirby chucks the cup at the back of some random girl's head who decided to toss said contents of the cup at Sam.

Sam, shaking: What the fuck?

---

Tara, Chad, and Mindy surrounding Sam while T-posing: You are my dad. You're my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!

Sam, starting to cry: What??

---

Tara, watching Sam and Danny be cute together: Is this allowed? Wtf, is that allowed?

Sam: Please stop...

---

Kirby: I saw you going after Ghostface yesterday!

Chad, wearing Tara's push-up bra: K-Kirby, it's not what you think!

Kirby, raising a bright orange water gun: I won't hesitate, bitch!

Sam watches with tired eyes.

---

Mindy, watching Ghostface die for the first time and happy to be included: Miss Keisha? Miss Keisha? Miss Keisha! Omfg, she fuckin dead.

Sam:

---

Sam: I don't understand what they're saying! You have to help me!

Gale, wearing sunglasses and sipping from her wine glass: Sounds like a skill issue, Sam.

Sam: Not you, too -

Danny: Just take the L, Sam.

Tara: F

Mindy: F

Kirby: F

Chad: F

Gale: F

Danny: F

[smolmakerel]

"You can't leave me! I won't let you!"

"Christina, lo juro por Dios [I swear to God], get the fuck out of my way or -"

"Or what? You'll hit me? Hit me then! Give me a reason to call the cops!"

"Mamá?!"

"You're fucking crazy! Just like that bastard's father!"

"Don't talk about him like that!"

Tara curled up under the kitchen table, one of her favorite hide-and-seek spots because of the table cloth. She couldn't understand what her parents were screaming about, Sammy piping in every once in a while, but she knew she didn't like it.

It sounded scary.

With caution, Tara lifted the cream table cloth and peaked up.

Mamá was beating her fists against Papi's chest, face creased in rage. Sammy was fighting to place herself between the two, but neither of the two noticed.

Tara flinched when Sammy was shoved out of the way by their papá. She scrambled out from beneath the table and stood, unsure, behind her mamá.

"¿Mamá? ¿Papá?" Tara uttered. Both of her padres² stopped arguing and turned to her, and she shifted awkwardly. "¿Esta todo bien?" [Mom? Dad? Is everything ok?]

Papi's eyes softened while his shoulders sagged. "Sí, no te preocupes. Me quedaré con mis padres por el momento si quieres venir conmigo." [Yes, don't worry. I'm going to stay with my parents for the time being if you want to come with me.]

Tara blinked in confusion. Why was her papi leaving? Why did it sound like he didn't want to take Mamá or Sammy with them?

Before Tara could ask, Mamá was screaming again. She slammed her palms over her ears with a whimper. She never did like whenever they fought.

"Stop fighting!" Sammy cried out. "Can't you see that Tara's scared?!"

Papi narrowed his eyes. "Shut your bastard mouth!"

Sammy took a wounded step backwards.

Papi's eyes then went wide. He looked between Mamá and Sammy, then he turned his eyes to Tara.

"Is she even mine?"

"Listen -"

"Tell me the fucking truth for once in your miserable fucking life, ¡puta!" Papi roared out, and it shook the house into silence.

Mamá looked away. "Of course she is."

"... I don't believe you."

Tara stumbled out of the way when Papi shoved her out of the way. She followed behind the small group and gasped when she saw Papi's business suitcase full of clothes sitting on his leather recliner.

"¡Papi!" Tara began to cry, finally realizing what was happening. "¡Por favor no te vayas!" [Please don't go!]

Papi continued to pack up despite Mamás furious threats of calling the police, Sam's panic at the escalating situation, and Tara's full-blown meltdown.

Tara was close to hyperventilating as she threw her body at her papá and clung to his leg. He tried to shake her off, but she held tightly to his gray slacks.

She was the last person he was with when they both heard yelling coming from the master bedroom. Papi had begged her to clean her room and get ready for bed, going as far as to bribe her with a homemade caramel flan. But then he abruptly left.

The yelling only increased in volume, and, after an hour, Tara crept downstairs to hide out.

Was this her fault somehow?

"P-Papi, por favor -" she wheezed, chest constricting. She could barely breathe, let alone get her words out properly.

Hands roughly shoved her away, and Tara stared up at her Papi in horror. He stared back with an equally distraught expression.

"Tara," he gasped. "Lo lamento -" [I'm sorry -]

Mamá burst into a fit of rage.

Tara sat on the floor for the rest of the night. She blocked out the rest of her parents' argument and sat there. She sat there while her Papi left them.

He slammed the door. He never slammed the door.

Sammy tried to help her. Tara took the inhaler but remained on the floor by the stairs, watching the door for when Papi would come back.

He never did.

[smolmakerel]

Sam: This isn't what I expected when you asked if I wanted to play The Sims with you.

Tara was too busy shoving a handful of chips in her mouth to respond, so she simply removed the door to the room the Sim is in. Sam sweated nervously as the Sim slowly died of poor hygiene.

Sam: Isn't The Sims about making families? This is...

Tara, snorting: And give up the opportunity to give mom some payback? Pass.

Sam, worried: What?

Tara: She locked me in my room a few times because I was "annoying her" lmao. I was just hungry haha. Payback's a bitch, Christina.

Sam didn't know how to respond to that. She wanted to get her hands on their mother though. Unfortunately, she had no idea where her mom is.

Sam switched her attention to the pool with no ladder and walls surrounding it. Mindy's Sim was starting to drown, and the Grim Reaper was waltzing down the sidewalk.

Sam: So why are you killing Mindy then?

Tara: She ate my leftovers yesterday.

Sam:

Tara: And she said The Babadook sucked in film class.

Sam:

Tara: ... And I want to seduce the Grim Reaper.

[smolmakerel]

You know what? I live for the Black Widow AU that I saw floating around some time ago (I don't know if it's still a thing). It's such an interesting concept, and it got me thinking of another AU.

Captain America AU

Imagine, it's the early 20th century and WW2 is just starting, but women were allowed to fight in the army. There in NYC are the Carpenter sisters.

Tara Carpenter is a sickly little thing. She has asthma, was born early, and is always ready to pick a fight with people much bigger and stronger than her. She looks up to her sister Sam and is desperate to fight in the war with her when Sam volunteers.

Samantha Carpenter is a perfectly healthy woman. She's been working her way up the ranks of the U.S. military to become one of the people to put an end to the war. She worries that if she doesn't hurry, the opposing side might nuke the United States and Tara -

Tara might die.

But Tara wasn't afraid of death.

It took a lot of perjury, but Tara managed to enlist in the army with the help of a certain doctor (whose name I'm too lazy to look up rn). Seeing such a thin, sickly girl in the army, the other recruits and higher ups don't believe in her.

Despite their lack of faith, Tara has heart. And with her heart, she was recruited for a secret program. She was going to become a super soldier.

She signed on to be a lab rat of sorts. It hurt, the administration of the serum, but she came out...

Looking exactly the same. But on the plus side, she has better reflexes, stamina, and no asthma! Sam was going to be so proud of her when they finally met up.

Only for disaster to strike.

Sam, trying to protect Tara, ended up being thrown from a train and off the side of a mountain. Tara, devastated with the loss of her sister, was determined to end it all.

And end it she did. Only, Tara didn't expect to wake up nearly a century later in modern America. S.H.I.E.L.D. was eager to recruit her into this "Avengers Protocol", or whatever.

She also didn't expect H.Y.D.R.A. would come back with a familiar brunette on their side. Her left arm shines with metal, and her eyes became hardened over the years.

Tara knows this is Sam, her older sister who she thought she lost forever. The person she would die for.

They call her the Ghost Face now, but Tara knows Sam is still in there.

Why would the Ghost Face hesitate multiple times to kill her otherwise?

[smolmakerel]

Sam knew it was a mistake to stay in New York after what went down last year. Everywhere any of them went, they were harrassed and mocked for views on the internet. Especially Sam.

Even Tara wasn't immune to Sam's cult-like r/Stab subreddit fans, with them believing Tara was secretly masterminding the 2022 killings or she was secretly Roman Bridger's child or whatever wild assumption they wanted to make.

Now another Ghostface pair was chasing after them. Both of them being Amber's parents. Motive? They believed Tara masterminded Woodsboro and wanted revenge for killing their baby girl.

A load of bullshit, if you ask Sam.

Sam may not have liked her when Amber first started hanging around Tara, but she was still a good kid. A little odd, but definitely not a Ghostface worshipper. At least, not until the Freeman family made the impromptu decision to purchase the old Macher house.

And what a great move that was, Sam bitterly thought to herself as she hid behind a barrel on the dock.

She peeked out from behind her cover in search of two Ghostfaces. The dock was lit up in a soft orange glow, which would make the stalking of the Freemans obvious, but Sam saw nothing interesting.

There's a short scream followed by a splash. Sam's heart leapt into her throat.

"Stupid bitch! She bit my fingers off!"

Sam adjusted her bloody grip on her knife. Footsteps thudded closer to her hiding spot.

"Yeah, and she got her karma for it! But we needed her to lure out that Loomis bitch -"

Sam moved quickly and wrapped her hand around Mrs. Freeman's neck. "I would say it's nice to see you again, but it's really not."

Mrs. Freeman froze as Sam's knife touched the middle of her spine. She smiled nervously.

"Sam -"

"What did he do to my sister?" Sam demanded to know. She shook her head. "Damn it, I don't have time for this!"

Sam thrusted the knife into the woman's back. Ignoring the woman's screeches, she dug higher and higher, deeper the knife went until Mrs. Freeman began to gurgle and go limp. Blood dribbled from her parted lips and then splattered on the dock when she fell, Sam's knife not holding her up anymore.

Sam swiped the blood from the knife. But before she could turn around, something caught her attention in the water.

Tara's inhaler floating on the water's surface.

"No!" Sam screamed.

"Yes!" Mr. Freeman appeared from the shadows, grin wickedly wide and knife raised above his head.

Sam gasped when the knife cut into her arm and backed away, dropping her knife at the pain. Her eyes stare at the rippling water where Tara was fighting for her life.

She can't swim.

A fog clouded over Sam's already dark eyes and made them black with hatred. An inhuman growl erupted from her throat.

"You son of a bitch."

Mr. Freeman scowled. "You killed my precious wife, and your slut sister killed my precious daughter! How does it feel to lose someone so close to you?!"

Mr. Freeman raised his knife and slashed again, but Sam caught him by surprise. She grabbed his arm and halted it from coming near her. Her head raised.

"I wouldn't know," Sam hissed.

Crack went Mr. Freeman's wrist. The man cried out and tried to back away from Sam who was stalking forward slowly.

"Ge-Get away from me! I-It was just a joke - a prank! Like Amber did!" Mr. Freeman swallowed as a line of sweat dropped down his brow. He continued to back up while placating Sam. "You don't have to kill me at all!"

Sam grabbed the knife Mr. Freeman dropped. She examined the dark red dripping from the blade and down the handle. There was too much for all of it to be hers. Some of it might be Mr. Freeman's who's missing half the fingers on his left hand, but she wasn't thinking about his wounds right now.

Tara. Her blood. Her sister. Drowning.

Sam didn't know what she did to Mr. Freeman. She blinked and he was gone, but her arms were stained red as well as the wood below her feet.

Sam came back to herself and dropped the knife. Without any other distractions, she jumped into the inky black ocean.

She was blind in nature, desperately waving her hands around under the water to grab onto something, anything that could be her sister.

She had to come up for a deep breath on the first dive.

Diving down again, Sam was starting to lose hope. She couldn't lose her baby sister, not after everything that's happened between them. Not after being reunited for only two years.

Then her hand brushed something. Sam grabbed and pulled whatever it was to the surface.

She gasped and coughed out freezing cold water and began swimming back to the dock.

"C-Come on, T-Tara." Sam's teeth chatter from the extreme cold of the Atlantic seeping deep into her bones. "You're g-going to be o-ok. Sta-Stay with me, mi vida¹."

It took all of Sam's strength to haul Tara's limp, freezing body out of the water and onto the dock. From there, Sam pulled herself up and checked on her sister.

Tara was lying there, wet and cold and not breathing.

Sam muttered every curse she knew under her breath. She knelt by Tara's side and hovered her hands over Tara's chest.

Those very same hands that butchered Mr. Freeman.

Sam nearly faltered. What if she accidentally killed her sister by trying to bring her back to life? Her hands would snap her ribcage which would puncture her lungs and heart.

She could kill her sister.

But she couldn't wait any longer. Gale was taking too long to show up.

So, with a silent prayer, Sam began to give Tara CPR.

Tara's body jerked at each chest compression and fell still when her nose was plugged and air was forced into her mouth. Her lips were tinged blue and were icy.

"Por favor. ¡Por favor, Tara, respira!²" Sam begged.

She was running out of time. If she couldn't get Tara breathing within the next couple of minutes...

Sam kept her steady rhythm.

She could hear a crack from Tara's ribs giving way under her hands. Tears cascaded down Sam's face, and she began to wail.

"Tara!" Sam plugged Tara's nose and blew into her mouth again. She returned her hands to Tara's chest and -

Tara began to cough out salt water, body jerking with each retch she took. Sam cried in relief.

Tara whimpered as she was lifted slightly, laying loosely in Sam's tight embrace. Her breathing was wheezing and sounded watery, and Sam knew she had to go to the hospital now.

"Sam?" Tara whispered.

Sam nodded, kissed her forehead, and brushed wet hair out of her face. "It's me. I got you."

Rough breathing escalated into wet sobs of terror, but Sam didn't think of them as heartbreaking. It was a sign that Tara, her baby girl, was alive.

"'m so c-cold..." cried Tara. She clutched at her chest which was tightening with pressure. "Can't b-breathe..."

Sam cursed herself for leaving Tara's spare inhaler in her jacket which was given to Gale earlier in the day. And if she had her jacket, she would've wrapped Tara up in it while she herself froze in her soaking gray tank top.

"I know, mi vida¹, I know," Sam soothed her sister as best as she could. She could hear the sirens wailing closer.

Tara curled into Sam's embrace and continued to cry as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

—●—○—●—○—

1: "Mi vida" - My life

2: "Por favor. ¡Por favor, Tara, respira!" - Please. Please, Tara, breathe!

[smolmakerel]

"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"

Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"

Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.

Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.

"Why?" Tara shot back instead.

Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."

What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?

"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.

"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."

At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.

"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"

"Because... I uh..."

"Take your time."

Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.

"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."

"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."

Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.

"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."

"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."

Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."

"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."

Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."

Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.

Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.

"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.

"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"

Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.

"No," Tara claimed instead.

Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"

Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."

Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.

"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."

'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.

"Ok."

Fuck.

[♡♡♡]

Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.

Then she knocked.

The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"

"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"

"Tara."

Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.

"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.

Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."

It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.

She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.

"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.

Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

[smolmakerel]

Life after the Ghostface killings in New York City was somewhat peaceful. As peaceful as it could be with the entire internet hounding you that you were going to end up becoming a serial killer like your dad.

If Sam had it her way, she would ban the internet. Because, honestly? Most of them were a bunch of incels (whatever that even meant. Sam overheard Mindy saying Richie was an incel and assumed it to mean a shitty person - which, true) who needed a positive social life.

And incels were why Sam usually stayed inside nowadays, because she didn't want to deal with shitty people trying to kill her. Again. For the third time.

Literally isolating herself led to the worst possible outcome.

For Tara.

"Um, Sam?"

Sam didn't bother putting the impact driver in her hand down. She whipped around and grinned at her bemused and annoyed sister coming into the living room.

Tara eyed the power tool in Sam's hand, the few screws poking out of her teeth, and the halfway-put-together hammock limp on the floor.

"Is there a reason why you're drilling holes in the wall?" Tara deadpanned, pulling her arms tight across her chest.

Sam looked down at the hammock as if it was obvious. It was kind of obvious. No, it was really obvious. The hammock was still half drilled into the wall and patiently waiting to be stuck across the room to stretch out. She opened her mouth to let the screws fall into her palm.

"I'm hanging a hammock."

"Why?"

"Because?"

"At 2 in the morning?" Sam went to open her mouth to defend herself, but Tara quickly narrowed her eyes and spoke up again. "When I have a final worth 40% of my grade at 9 in the morning?"

Sam slowly closed her jaw.

Tara held her angry glare for exactly 10 seconds before her shoulders dropped as she sighed. She trudged to the chair and curled up in it, patiently watching Sam watching her. Sam perked up at the silent "go on" from her sister.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," Sam admitted. She began to stretch the hammock to the other wall and used her stud finder on the wall. She sighed. "I guess I lost track of time."

Tara raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "So you haven't eaten all day?"

Sam laughed at that, nearly slipping and drilling her hand to the wall. Tara jolted at that but calmed down once Sam continued to laugh.

"That's my line, Tara." Sam tugged on the newly drilled hammock and sighed once she was satisfied it wasn't coming down. "Do you like it?"

"I think I'd like it even more if I didn't have to wake up during the installation."

Ok. Fine. Whatever.

Sam dramatically rolled her eyes and discarded the impact driver and stud finder on the half of the couch the hammock didn't cover. She flopped onto the hammock with a groan, hands behind her head.

"I'll just use it then," Sam teased with her eyes closed, "since someone doesn't appreciate honest work."

She could feel the side eye Tara was giving her, and she couldn't help but feel slightly panicked.

Did Tara really not like the gift? Was it over the top? Did it remind Tara too much of... before?

Before Sam could mentally degrade herself about how she should've known better than to burden Tara with this gift, the hammock rocked.

Sam snapped her eyes open at the tipping of the hammock and immediately threw her foot down to the floor for stability. Tara, from Sam's sudden movement, fell the rest of the way into the hammock.

Tara wriggled around, trying to get comfortable, and Sam laid as still as she could. As soon as Tara relaxed, almost completely on top of her older sister, Sam wrapped her arms around Tara and squeezed.

"Gotcha!" Sam said with a kiss to the crown of her head.

Tara grumbled, exhausted.

It was quiet after that. Sam rubbed soothing circles into Tara's back and hummed whatever song came to mind.

"Sammy?" Tara's tired voice slurred into Sam's shoulder. Sam hummed. "I love it; thank you so, so much. I feel like a kid again."

Sam swallowed. Wow. No one had ever really shown appreciation for the things she gave them. To hear how much Tara loved it made Sam love the gift too.

"It's nothing," Sam tried to downplay how happy she was, but the pitch in her voice gave it away.

Tara nuzzled deeper into her sister's bodywarmth, and Sam reached out to snag the wooly blanket from the couch beneath the hammock and toss it over them. Humming, Tara fully relaxed.

"Dos oruguitas," Sam softly sang, tucking Tara's hair behind her ear, "enamoradas.¹"

"Pasan sus noches," Tara mumbled, not even bothering to try and sing right now, "y madrugadas.²"

Sam snorted. Her foot began to lightly kick against the ground to sway the hammock.

The whir of the heater drowned out the honking outside of people rushing to get home and out of the way of the incoming snow storm.

Tara's shoulders hitched, drawing Sam's attention to them. Her eyes went wide when warm tears began to soak her shirt collar.

"Tara? Mi mariposa, ¿qué ocurre?" Sam lifted the two of them up enough so she could wipe away the tears flowing down Tara's cheeks. Each tear was a punch to the gut, and Sam wanted nothing more than to lightly assault whatever made Tara cry. "¿Estás bien?³"

Tara shook her head. "No es nada.⁴ I was thinking about our backyard. We used to do this all the time." She laughed wetly, full of tears. "I didn't know how much I missed it until now."

So... Sam needed to lightly assault herself. Got it.

At least she could make up for all of those afternoon naps in their backyard hammock she missed now.

"Me too," Sam agreed with a smile. She cupped Tara's face and kissed her forehead, and Tara sank into the action with a tired sigh. "Now -" Sam pulled back with a mock stern glare -"you're going back to sleep. You have your final in the morning. Why are you even awake right now?"

"What? You're the one that -"

"Shh, less talking more sleeping."

Tara huffed, but it sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter.

Sam pulled Tara back down and continued to rub her back and push her foot to move the hammock. The soothing motions combined with Sam's warmth lulled Tara into an easy sleep.

But Sam never stopped rocking her foot. She pulled the blanket higher over both of them before hugging her sister.

With Tara now sleeping, Sam silently dissolved into a mess of tears. She was glad Tara wasn't seeing this moment of weakness from her. What would she think of Sam if she knew Sam cried so easily over her?

"Te amo, Tara," she said as she gathered Tara as close as she could, until the world shifted and the puzzle completed. She was whole again. "Te amo mucho, mi corazón.⁵"

Sam closed her eyes and fell asleep with her entire world in her arms.

— ● — ○ — ● — ○ —

1: Two little caterpillars in love

2: They spend their nights and early mornings

3: My butterfly, what's going on? Are you ok?

4: It's nothing.

5: I love you, Tara. I love you so much, my heart.

[smolmakerel]

Everyone absolutely puts Sam and Tara through the ringer with their trauma. Like, yeah, I still eat that content up, but I need to see some more posts about them being absolute menaces in general.

I have 2 siblings and they're pains in my ass. We could fist fight and then not speak for an hour, and then one of them comes to me like, "hey, wanna go to McDonald's" and I'd drive us there while we blast the music.

Sam and Tara, before all that shit with their family happened, most likely had some chaotic sister moments. They grew up as sisters (obviously) and know everything about each other. This leads to the Natural Sibling Chaos (tm).

Sam and Tara, watching their mom yell at them about the concerning amount of windows they broke:

Tara, trying not to laugh:

Sam: What?

Tara silently mocks Christina's angry mom face to Sam. Sam is trying not to laugh now because why the hell is Christina making that face.

Also in the future when Sam comes back and they have Trauma and Body Counts under their belts, they get more chaotic.

Tara: I have a solution to take care of our new Ghostface problem.

Sam, relieved: Gracias a Dios, what is it?

Tara: It involves fire.

Sam, slowly getting worried: Ok...

Tara: And the bomb I learned how to make at 3 am last night.

Sam: You made a WHAT?