the genuine dread i feel whenever theres knocking in season 4 is awful omg idc that i know the doctor doesnt die at that point but it still makes my heart stop for a second and then im reminded i need to watch the end of time again and hear him say "i dont want to go" then start sobbing and banging on the walls
Anonymous Request: okay i LOVE your angsty fics i wont lie ….. so if ur taking reqs… i was thinking something along the lines of like sam / character are childhood bffs with secret crushes on each other (everyone knows but them sorta situation) and maybe she goes out with someone and it upsets sam but the date goes horrible (maybe its a bad situation idc) and sam has to come to the rescue. idk i trust you … i’d love to read whatever you cook up!
(A/N): Lol guess who’s back! Sorry for taking an unannounced two month writing break, I haven’t been feeling super inspired lately to be quite honest. And I’m maybe about to start a new job so I can’t really say with upmost confidence that I’m “back” all the way, but I woke up to this request in my ask box this morning and coincidentally it aligns with a half-developed idea I’ve been playing around with for the last few weeks. To be fair, several people have posted fics with plots somewhat similar to this one (in which Y/N gets drugged at a bar), but I wanted to tweak the situation so that none of the boys are actually at said bar with her, but instead need to come to her rescue. This just so happens to align perfectly with this prompt so here I am, cranking it out for you. Just like old times (six months ago).
I hope you enjoy!!
also extra thank you to @vetaglanfeet and @joshysgf for looking this over for me before I posted :) love u both dearly
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Four Knocks
It was becoming abundantly clear that Sam was not going to be helpful this afternoon.
You had invited your childhood best friend Sam over to help you prepare for a date with Matthew, the guy you’d been casually running into and flirting with for months.
You were over by your closet rifling through clothes while Sam laid flopped over on your bed, paying more attention to an old Guinness World Records book he found on your bookshelf.
“Sam, please, can you at least pretend to care? Which looks better!” You held up two dresses, one pink and floral and the other a more subdued olive green color.
Sam’s eyes flitted up from the book to briefly scan the dresses, before moving up to glare at your own eyes. “Why are you so freaked out about this anyway? You know how to dress yourself, you don’t need my opinion.” He mumbled.
You groaned and threw a hanger at him. “Because I want to look nice, Samuel! I want him to think I’m pretty and maybe consider taking me on more dates! Lord knows nobody else is asking me.”
Sam rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow, his cropped hair falling into his face as he tilted his head at you. You couldn’t help but take a moment to take in his current state. He was wearing a big white crewneck sweatshirt- one you might have suspected he stole from Josh if it hadn’t been so roomy on him. The stark white only served to deepen his dark features as his brown eyes trailed over the two dresses you were holding up.
You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to say you’d never had any feelings for Sam that extended past friendship. Frankly, you’d been pining after him for almost as long as you could remember. Before you even knew what it meant. But Sam never wavered. He was always just… Sam. Never going further than his normal, tirelessly supportive and happy-go-lucky self that he’d always been around you. At some point, you decided to try and accept that he would never feel the same and look outward to new romantic opportunities.
That’s where you stumbled upon Matthew. He was a guy who you’d run into at your favorite bar every so often. He always offered to buy you drinks and when you’d let him, he’d butter you up and ask when you were gonna let him take you out. It was flattering, and it made your heart leap to feel desired. He was pretty good looking too, who were you to turn down such an opportunity?So, last weekend you decided to finally take him up on his offer.
“You’re really getting your panties all in a twist for some guy from a bar who you barely know?”
You were brought back to reality by Sam’s snarky comment, and you felt your brows knitting together at his tone. “Yeah, Sam. I am. Are you alright with that?” You shot back sarcastically, dropping your arms that were holding up the dresses.
Sam watched as you turned back toward the mirror, taking turns holding up each dress against your body. He heaved a sigh and got up, “Go with the green one. It brings out your eyes. I’m gonna head out but good luck tonight.”
His voice was defeated but you were too preoccupied with his first sentence and pre-date jitters to notice. “Thank you! I’ll let you know how it goes!”
From down the hall, Sam opened the door and mumbled to himself, “Please fucking don’t,” mimicking your tone to himself as he left your apartment. 
.
You stumbled your way into the restaurant bathroom, slamming the door shut and fumbling with the lock as your body slid onto the floor. Your head was spinning and the room almost seemed like it was too. You rested your back against the door as you heaved a deep breath, thankful that this wasn’t a multiple-person bathroom with stalls. You took a moment to remember what you came in there for, before looking down at your phone in your hand.
You blinked and suddenly you were calling Sam.
“Y/N?” Sam answered, confusion evident in his tone. “Shouldn’t you be on your date?”
You opened your mouth to speak and were surprised by how much effort it took to string together a sentence. “I aaaam on a date! You know that! Listen, I’m in a bit of a… a bit of a situation here and I thought to myself. Self, this situation calls for Sam. So I called you!”
There was a brief pause before Sam spoke again, a bit more warily this time. “Y/N, you sound fucking wasted. What, have you two been slamming shots?”
You shook your head, forgetting that Sam couldn’t see you. “No but that’s the situation! I just had a glass of red wine! I think he,” You took a break to hiccup, “I think he might’ve put somethin in my drink.”
Immediately you heard shuffling on Sam’s end. “Where are you?” He asked.
You shrugged to yourself, looking around at the bathroom in front of you. “Well right now I’m in the bathroom, because I don’t think he would’ve liked me calling up another dude during our date. That’s, like, rude, ya know?”
You could just barely hear the sound of Sam getting into his car and starting it. “You know what, Y/N, I think that was a good choice but not for the reason you just gave. I think this guy deserves a little rudeness. Do you remember what restaurant he took you to?”
You sat for a second, humming to yourself in thought. “I don’t remember the name. It’s the Italian place a few blocks from the bar I always met him at. He said he lives near here, comes all the time.”
Sam scoffed, “Figures. Look, you stay in that bathroom. I’m on my way over, okay? I’m gonna get there and knock four times so you know it’s me. Don’t open the door for anyone else, you got that?”
You smiled to yourself at the thought of seeing Sam, awareness quickly slipping through your fingers. “Four knocks! Can’t wait to see you! You know, I wish you had asked me on this date instead of him. You wouldn’t have done this to me.”
There was silence for a moment, and you briefly thought Sam had hung up, until you heard a deep sigh from the other line. “No, Y/N, I sure as hell wouldn’t have. Just please try to stay awake until I get there, okay?”
You held your hand up to your head in salute, again forgetting he cannot see you. “Aye aye, captain!”
Sam let out a humorless chuckle before actually hanging up. You let your phone fall to your side and leaned your head back against the door, fighting the drugs in your system that willed your eyes to close.
They did flutter shut for a moment before being startled back open by two loud knocks on the door.
“Y/N? You alright in there? It’s been a little while.” You sat back up a bit straighter at the sound of Matthew’s voice behind the door, reminding you that you weren’t safe yet.
“I’m okay, no worries! Just give me a few minutes.” You called out, trying your best to sound strong and put-together as your consciousness faded by the second.
You sat there, waiting anxiously for Sam for what felt like an hour but was more likely 10 minutes. Your doped-up brain filtered out the restaurant noise behind the door, even when it picked up a bit after a few minutes.
Finally, you were greeted by four clear knocks on your door.
Using more effort than you were expecting, you raised your hand to open the door. Your eyes met Sam’s face for a fleeting moment before they rolled back into your head, sleep finally taking over.
.
The next morning, you woke up tucked into your bed with your dress still on. You turned your head to look at your bedside clock and your head pounded in response. Suddenly, vague details of the night prior started flooding back, doing nothing to ease the dull ache in your head. You were relieved to see that you had made it home and woken up with your clothes intact, but there were large gaps of time you couldn’t remember from your night out.
And that scared the shit out of you.
You managed to muster up enough strength to reach over and check your phone, shocking yourself to see that it’s after noon.
You checked for outward calls and texts from the night before, even the Uber app to try and piece together how you made it home. All you could find was the single outward call to Sam. Maybe he would have answers.
You redialed him and placed the phone up to your ear, only to jump when you heard it ring from your living room. Sam’s here?
There was some shuffling behind your door as you heard the call get declined in your ear, immediately followed by the gentle knocking and opening of your bedroom door.
Four gentle knocks.
You watched as Sam’s timid frame entered your room and sat on the edge of your bed. His eyes were filled with worry and it made you sick to your stomach.
“Sam, what happened last night?”
He sighed and looked down at his hands. “How much do you remember?”
You shook your head, eyes scanning past him to try and piece together your evening. “Well, I remember when I got there. He seemed nice enough, a little forward like usual but nothing too crazy. We were just talking and…” Your brows knit as your memory started to get fuzzy. “I don’t understand, why don’t I remember anything else?”
You turned and looked back at Sam and were taken aback by the heartbroken look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused and first took hold of your hand closest to him, establishing a firm grip before speaking.
“He, um… He laced your drink with date rape drugs. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t look at you but he was forced to see in his peripheral the way your face fell in realization.
“So that’s why… Oh my God…” Your free hand flew up to cover your mouth as tears pricked at your eyes. You instinctually moved to pull your legs closer to yourself and Sam loosened his grip on your hand to let you move that as well. But you tightened your grip in response, in desperate need of his gentle grounding in this situation.
“But I… How did you… It doesn’t make any sense, Sam. It wasn’t even a bad date!” You were close to hysterics trying to piece together the logic of the situation, and Sam wasn’t willing to let you sit there and drive yourself crazy.
He scooted a bit closer to brush the hair out of your face with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “You locked yourself in the bathroom and called me before you lost consciousness. I was able to find the restaurant and get that piece of shit taken out in a cop car. God, he was waiting for you right outside the bathroom door, too. Luckily, you stayed awake long enough to unlock the door for me. But, fuck it was hard just watching you go limp after that.”
Sam inched closer and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder, tears now silently streaming down your face and threatening Sam’s eyes as well.
“I carried you out and drove you home. And I just, I couldn’t leave you here. Not like this. I couldn’t let you wake up alone and confused or godforbid you woke up and remembered, I-“
You lifted your head up to meet Sam’s gaze when you noticed his watery voice start rambling. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into the touch. “Thank you, Sam. I don’t… think I could ever thank you enough. I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up that phone.” Your words sank in for yourself as you spoke them, and you pulled your hand away from Sam’s to wrap your arms around him and pull him tightly against you.
He gently pulled you into his lap and held you close, sniffling to himself. “You don’t need to thank me for anything. I would do it all again in a heartbeat, I would. I just really hate that you were put in that situation to begin with.” He rested his chin on top of your head that was pressed against his chest.
You had so many thoughts swimming through your head. Possibilities. Newfound fears. About a million questions, but one stood out from the rest. “Why did he do that?” You mumbled, burying your mouth and nose in the fabric of Sam’s sweatshirt and inhaling the comforting warmth.
Sam heaved a deep, shaky breath. “I… I don’t know. He’s a sick, disgusting man who thinks he can take whatever he wants from this world.” His hands started moving against you, one making warm sweeping strokes up and down your back while the other lightly pet your hair. “He should have never even had the opportunity to get near you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he succeeded. I wanted to kill him when I saw him standing outside that bathroom.”
“Why didn’t you?” Your question was muffled by the fabric you were nuzzled into, but his chest shook with a quick laugh.
“I’d still like to, but I couldn’t. You needed me.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, which made your heart flutter. He’s never done that before.
Sam seemed to notice at the same time, as he froze in place for a moment before quickly darting his head back to where it rested before on top of yours.
You both sat still for a few moments, trying to calm down and sit with what was just spoken. Eventually, Sam murmured, “How do you feel?”
You almost scoffed until you realized he was just checking in on you. “I feel… disgusting. I feel used and taken advantage of and I hate it.” Your arms pulled tighter against Sam to punctuate your last statement.
You could feel Sam shake his head as you spoke, and when you finished he retracted his arms to pull your face out from his chest so you could look at him. “Y/N, you have to understand that none of this happened by any fault of yours. You are no worse a person because of it and you are still every bit as beautiful as you were when I left here yesterday. I know you don’t feel that way right now but I just need you to trust me.”
Your eyes searched his for any semblance of lying and you found none. “You think I’m beautiful, Sam?” You asked, hope dripping from your tone of voice.
Sam’s eyes widened for a split second as he realized what he had just said, but as he saw the affection in your eyes he felt at ease doubling down. “I think you’re very beautiful. The most beautiful. That should’ve been me taking you out on that date.”
Your heart was racing at his words, completely unaware that you had voiced essentially the same sentiments to him the night before during the phone call. “You still can.” You whispered out, a blush spreading across your face.
Sam smiled down at you and placed a long kiss onto your forehead. “You know what? I just might. You deserve a re-do. Except this time, you’ll be treated the way you deserve.”
You beamed up at him and nuzzled your head back into his chest, missing the warmth and safety. Sam’s arms wrapped back around you and the two of you sat together contentedly. Sam’s hands were about to continue rubbing soothing strokes across your back when he stopped them, instead opting to point two of his fingers and tap them lightly against your back.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four times.
You smiled against him in memory, surprising even yourself with your ability to see tenderness in such a painful memory.
And you reached one of your hands up his back to give four clear taps back.
So a couple days ago I got super overwhelmed about some college stuff and having to text a bunch of people at the same time while fielding a call from my gp. And I got onto Instagram and saw some post about the Four Knocks scene. I had the brilliant idea that if I watched that, I could speed run the five stages of grief with the Doctor and then I’d be fine. I had to watch it twice, but dude it worked so well! The catharsis of it all, just—!
