Off the deep end 3 (18+)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Pairing: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader
Warnings: canon typical violence
Summary: Ghostface strikes again and you decide to take matters into your own hands
Masterlist
You're met with chaos when you enter the living room. Mindy is pacing, her hands up in the air as she explains something to annoyed Tara. Chad is talking to someone on the phone, his brows furrowed and his knee bouncing up and down rapidly. Anika sits still, her eyes locked on the TV and you follow her gaze, stopping in your tracks when you see the scene.
Ghostface mutilated two men, boys, from your class. Greg, the guy you've helped with multiple assignments is now dead, his fucking head detached from his body. Your eyes are pinned to the reporter at the scene as he continues on the details of the murder.
You fight the urge to throw up.
Sam turns you away from the TV and holds your hands tight, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles. "It's going to be okay," she whispers, "I won't let anything happen to you." She places a kiss on your open palm, and then leads it to her cheek, nuzzling.
But you're not listening. You're far too lost in your thoughts. Sam's here, with you. She was here the whole night and the day before.
Why would you ever think she'd take on the mantle of Ghostface, the very thing that almost ruined her life? It's so obvious now, no matter how hard she tries to hide it, you can see she's shaking ever so slightly. You see her jaw clench.
You see how hard she's trying to hide her emotions.
You pull her in a fierce hug, clinging for dear life, feeling her burrow her face into your neck with a heavy exhale. She's trembling with fear or rage - you're not sure.
You're forced to pull apart when Quinn bursts your bubble, phone in a hand. "My dad wants to talk to you." She glances at your joined hands, but doesn't comment.
Sam pulls away and steps away to a corner of the room, a crease forming between her brows as she listens to whatever detective Bailey has to say. You fight the urge to follow her to ease her worries.
"Are you okay?" The redhead asks.
You nod dazedly, not looking away from Sam.
"Do you want some water? You're kind of really pale," she mumbles.
You shake your head and finally look at her. "I'm fine. Do they know who did it?" You ask, gesturing to the TV.
She sighs. "No. There was only a mask."
You bite your lip, nodding.
Sam appears by your side a minute later, looking more pent up than before. "I need to go to the station," she says, giving the phone back to Quinn.
You knew to expect this, but still, your heart clenches painfully. This is really happening.
"What? Why?" Quinn asks, looking between the two of you.
Sam sighs, running a hand through her hair. You can tell she's conflicted, and the way her eyes keep flickering to the TV makes you reach out to her and grab her face, pinning her with your eyes. "Do you want me to go with you?"
"No. You'll stay here. It's safer." She looks around, her eyes lingering on Chad and Ethan. "Don't leave the apartment, okay?"
She waits for your nod and leaves in a hurry, Tara hot on her heels, and you're left to worry in the company of your friends. Mindy spews out theory after theory, each one wilder than the previous
They get positively horrifying after the fourth one, and you decide to tune her out to keep yourself from spiraling.
Ethan keeps sending you worried looks to which you always smile. The boy is way too sensitive and kind to be caught in this mess. You just hope he'll make it out alive.
"Let's go to my room," Quinn whispers, nudging you subtly.
You mindlessly follow her, eager to get away from the overstuffed room. She pushes you to sit on her bed and pulls out a bottle of cheap gin from her nightstand.
"Don't ask," she mutters.
You keep quiet and take a swing, sinking against her pillows. She joins you on the other side, throwing a hand over your shoulders.
"So what's the deal between you and Sam? You guys finally got your shit together?" She asks out of blue, taking away the bottle so you couldn't stall.
You're thankful for the distraction.
"I don't really know."
"Come on." She clings to your arm. "Give me the deets."
You laugh, but shake your head. "No deets, sorry."
She groans, pushing you away. "Fine. Keep your secrets."
You take back the bottle and take a big gulp, wincing at the taste. Quinn's eyes linger on you, but you pay her no mind, worriedly fiddling with your phone, waiting for Sam's call.
"Who do you think it is?" She breaks the silence before taking a swing.
The hair at the back of your neck stands at the way she looks at you, her eyes dark and pupils blown. A side of her mouth quirks up in a subtle smirk, but you catch it even in your inebriated state.
"What?"
"Oh, come on. You must have a suspect," she presses.
You gulp, sitting up straight. "I don't know, Quinn. I don't think any of our friends are capable of that." You shudder, looking away.
"Well, it's someone who's close to the Carpenters, that's for sure," she mumbles, putting the bottle away.
You don't like where the conversation is heading. The thought of someone close to you slicing people for fun makes your heart drop to your stomach. You think about Chad and Mindy, the way friendship with them came so easily. You think about Anika and her unwavering belief in everything that's good. You think about Ethan and Quinn, two completely opposite people who manage to make you feel welcomed, with the same crooked smile on their lips.
You shake your head. "Maybe it's different this time. Maybe-"
Your phone starts ringing, effectively cutting you off. You glance at the screen.
Unknown number.
Gulping, you look at Quinn, who looks back at you with wide eyes. It's probably the first time you see her unnerved, her hands shaking as she gestures at you to pick it up.
"Hello?" You answer.
You hear a click of the voice changer before the person on the other side speaks.
"Hello, Y/n. What's your favorite scary movie?"
×××
Each of Tara's muffled sobs feels like a stab to Sam's stomach. She tugs her sister closer, looking between the shelves to check where Ghostface is. She still can't believe he attacked them like that, in the middle of the street, and followed them to the store, killing everyone in the way.
She looks at Tara to see her own expression mirrored in the brown eyes, determined and focused.
"Sam?" Her sister mouths, to which she shakes her head, nudging her forward.
They need to get out right now.
She picks up a can from the floor and throws it with all of her might to the other side of the bodega, moving the second Ghostface turns around.
She doesn't flinch when the shotgun fires at the shelves across the room, only tugs Tara harsher, almost dragging her along. They're so close to the door they only need to take a few steps, but that means being seen and she can't afford that, so she waits with a baited breath for a perfect opportunity.
Ghostface moves almost silently, inching closer with each step. Sam knows she's almost out of time, she can see the looming figure in the crack between the shelves. She acts without thinking, pushing as hard as she can against the shelf and burying the masked figure under it.
They waste no time running away, not looking back to see if Ghostface is following them and getting the hell out of that store.
Police sirens greet them at the entrance and Sam exhales with relief, only now allowing herself to look back.
The store is a mess. The mask is left on the floor.
Her ears ring and her hand goes numb from how hard Tara grips it. Her chest heaves with each breath and all she wants to do is go back home, put on the mask and find that motherfucker.
And then a figure rounds the corner and crushes straight into them.
"Oh god, Sam. You're okay," you gasp, clinging to her. "Fuck, I thought-" that's the moment you look back to the store, your mouth dropping open at the sight. You jump back then, looking them both up and down until you're certain they're fine.
"What are you doing here?" Tara asks, her voice wavers. "How did you know?"
You look back at Sam, your eyes wide and watery. The anger in her chest gives way to something warm and tender, and she doesn't resist the urge to scoop you into her arms and drown in your comforting scent.
"I got a call," you hesitantly speak up, voice muffled against her jacket.
"No, we got a call," her sister's voice hardens as she rises to her towering five feet and zero inches.
"Tara, there's no need for this," Sam butts in, pulling away a bit and putting an arm around your shoulders. She senses the change in her sister, the way her shoulder tense even more, the way her eyes stay rooted to yours. "She just got here."
Tara's eyes snap to look at her sister. "And how did she know where to go?"
"Ghostface told me. Tara, I swear." You don't dare to look away from her. You need her to believe.
She nods tersely, but suspicion lingers in her eyes. You sigh in relief. That's all you can ask for.
You turn in Sam's arms and burrow your face into the crook of her neck, adrenaline finally leaving your body as tears start to roll down your cheeks.
You were terrified.
"It's okay. We're okay." Sam reassures, enveloping you in her arms.
You nod, choking on a sob and cling to her even more. Her hands circle your waist, pushing you snug against her as she whispers sweet reassurances into your ear. Tara steps back, her eyes narrowed as she keeps glancing between you and the store.
"Sam." Detective Bailey comes from behind her, making you jump in surprise. "I need you to come to the station with me." His tone is apologetic, but firm. He waits for Sam to nod before walking away to speak to other police officers.
"Go home, okay? I'll get back as soon as I can," she whispers against your temple.
You grip her tighter, but eventually nod.
×××
You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You open your eyes slowly, blinking against the rays of sun that managed to sneak past the heavy curtains, and curse when you realize it's already morning.
So much for staying up and waiting for Sam.
Sighing, you check your notifications and groan when you see thirty texts from Mindy. You text her to let her know you're on your way, putting on some fresh clothes and hurrying out of the door, already late to your class.
You spend half of the day dozing off, empty space next to you signaling that Sam and Tara are still at the station.
"What the fuck, Y/n? First you run out the door like a maniac, and then Tara and Sam get attacked at a bodega. Where were you?" Mindy asks the second you get close enough to hear her, and pulls you along to push you down on one of the benches in the park, Chad glaring at you from behind her shoulder.
You take a moment to respond, gulping at the outright murderous look on Mindy's face. "When Sam left I got a call from Ghostface," you start, and Mindy already opens her mouth to give you a piece of mind, only stopping when Anika tugs her down on her lap. "You probably know the script by now, but they said… well, they said they know Sam's secret and she's going to pay for it, like, right now. So I ran to warn her because she wouldn't pick up her phone, and when I got there it was already late. Ghostface left, but Sam and Tara were fine, thank god." You shudder at the memory.
It's quiet for a moment as Mindy contemplates your answer. "What secret?"
You wince, knowing you're probably a suspect now. "No idea."
Mindy blinks and then nods to herself. "Congratulations, dear Y/n, you just dethroned Ethan as my top suspect."
"Why am I a suspect?" Ethan shrieks, looking up from his book.
"So she's your suspect just because she got a call? Solid evidence." Anika mumbles, earning a withering glare from Mindy. "Babe, I appreciate your input, but it's totally not needed, I'm the expert here."
You sigh, but decide to stay quiet for your own sake. Whatever you say will undoubtedly make you even more of a suspect in her eyes anyway.
You check your phone, biting your lip at the lack of messages from Sam. Quinn looks over your shoulder, a smirk pulling at her lip when she reads some of your texts. You elbow her harshly and she rolls her eyes, scooting away from you.
"Y/n."
You jump up, face heating up when Sam pecks your cheek. You face her slowly, raising a knee to your chest. "Morning, Sam. Tara." You try to smile, but all you can manage is a grimace.
She looks tired, dark circles under her eyes tell you off the night spent in the interrogation room and you wish you were there with her. She moves slowly, looking you up and down. "You-"
"No need," Mindy swiftly interrupts the older girl, jumping up to her feet and pushing Sam and Tara to take a seat. "The interrogation has been taken care of."
Sam rolls her eyes, but doesn't say anything else, nudging Ethan to switch places with him. She settles, sighing deeply and leans on your shoulder, closing her eyes. You bite back a smile, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"Did you get home safe?" Tara asks, voice laced with suspicion.
She looks even worse than last night, her hair a mess, her eyes tinged red. You're ready for her to chew you out, no doubt she spent the night overthinking your every word.
You gulp, feeling Sam stiffen. "Yeah."
"So you get a call, they tell you exactly where to go and then you appear right after Ghostface leaves, when it's safe. Convenient," she grumbles, shaking her head.
"Can you leave her alone?" Ethan exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "She's your suspect, we got it. Let's just move on."
Quinn nods, "You should've seen her face when she got the call. I thought someone died or something."
Tara sends you one last shrewd look before huffing and crossing her arms with a pout.
You curse yourself for being so stupid yesterday.
Sam's lips brush against the crook of your neck, muttering, "She'll come around, don't worry."
You nod stiffly, nose burrowed in her soft hair. Her lips leave a quick peck on your shoulder before straightening up and poking you in the ribs teasingly. You can't help but admire her strength - she was attacked mere hours ago and now she's back to her usual self.
Either her therapist is working overtime or she's found some way to let all that pent up anger out.
"You're protecting her, how sweet," Mindy coos before schooling her features into her best bad cop look. "What a coincidence that you two are my suspects too. Ethan. The shy and dorky guy who no one suspects because he's so shy and dorky. And, oh wait, you're awfully close to my main suspect." She rolls on the balls of her feet gesturing wildly, as she goes off on a rant.
It goes on for ages, making Ethan uncomfortable and squirmy.
"Mindy," you butt in, yearning a glare from Tara, but it gets her to stop and finally move on to the next suspect.
Quinn.
You stay quiet this time, listening to every word Mindy says. You've had this nagging feeling about the redhead ever since you saw that smirk on her face. It still sends shivers down your spine.
Sam notices the way you seem to shrink into her and sends you a questioning look, but your attention is on Quinn.
Mindy mentions something about cops and you perk up. "Why is your dad on the case?" You hurriedly ask.
Mindy's mouth snaps shut mid sentence, but she seems to appreciate the question, turning to face Quinn properly, hands on her hips.
Quinn rolls her eyes with a huff. "You think I know? It's literally his job, but he probably did it to keep an eye on me."
Mindy shakes her head, musing about the conveniences of having a cop dad. You tune her out, basking in the warmth of Sam's embrace. She smiles softly, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. In this moment, no matter how short, you feel blissfully content.
When Mindy is finally done with her rant, Anika reminds you of your last class, speaking softly so as not to ruin the moment. You groan and untangle from Sam, making the older girl pout. Your lips meet in a chaste kiss before Anika finally tugs you away, too afraid of your new professor to be late.
You look back one last time to see Sam angled to your friends, giving them a piece of her mind by the looks of it.
It's not until you're done with your last class that Tata finds you in one of the halls.
"Y/n! Wait," she calls out, jogging to you.
You fiddle with your fingers, not really prepared for the conversation that's about to take place.
"God, you're fast," she gasps, using your shoulder for support as she bends over.
She takes her time getting her breathing under control and her hand feels scalding hot on your shoulder, making you squirm uncomfortably.
Finally, after a long moment, she looks up, a guilty look on her face, "I'm sorry," she starts, worrying a strap of her backpack. "For earlier. For accusing you and being a bitch."
You want to protest - you don't think she was being a bitch - but she stops you with a pointed look.
"Let me apologize." She waits for your nod before continuing. "You didn't deserve us jumping you like that, it's unfair to you. I just… It still hurts, you know? My best friend made a pin cushion out of me, and this situation is just a big fucking reminder. Because… you're my best friend, okay? You're like a breath of fresh fucking air and I love you for it, but every time someone gets attacked my brain just immediately goes to the worst case scenario and I can't help it." The words rush out and there's a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks. You desperately want to pull her in a hug, but she has your hands in a vice grip, keeping you in place, needing you to listen. "But I don't want to lose you. Not to Ghostface, and not because I was too afraid to trust you. So please, please, don't hurt me, okay? And don't hurt Sam. Don't you dare hurt Sam."
You barely manage a shaky nod before you're pulled in a bone crushing hug. You hold her close, blinking away tears as she cries freely into your shirt, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.
"I promise," you whisper, a plan already forming in your head.
×××
In your defense, you've sent Sam a text the second you stepped inside your apartment.
Bailey called later in the evening, apologizing profusely and claiming he needed her at the station again. She left only after you promised her you'd stay home this time, no matter what. As expected, Tara went with her, leaving you with Quinn who invited yet another fling to the apartment.
So you took your chance and rushed to your place. You did cross your fingers when you made that promise, after all.
You don't want to unnecessarily worry Sam and you're sure she won't be able to read the text until she's done at the station, so you hide a knife under one of your cushions and settle on your couch to wait.
You're sure Ghostface will show up.
You ignore the rising panic in your chest. You know you have to do this for your sake and for the sake of your friends, no matter how scary it is.
You've had an urge to do this for weeks, but you were never brave enough, preferring to stay in the safety of Sam's room. Now it's necessary. Now it feels like your only option. And your conversation with Tara only spurred you on.
You don't know how many of them there are, but you know that the one you need will show up sooner or later.
Minutes tickle by and you grow restless, shifting unnecessarily and looking at every visible corner, jumping up every time a car passes by your apartment.
Eventually, your exhaustion from the night before spent running around and panicking catches up to you and you nod off, falling into a deep sleep on your fluffy couch.
You wake up to continuous tapping against your coffee table.
You yawn and rub your eyes, before groaning and stretching your stiff neck. You blink, adjusting to the darkness in the room, your hand nudging against something sharp, and that's when you fully wake, jumping up in alert and grasping the knife in a tight grip. You slowly turn to face the source of the sound.
Ghostface sits on the loveseat, her legs crossed and her posture entirely relaxed as she playfully taps her knife against the glass of your coffee table.
You take a second to gather your courage and lunge.
_________________________
Literally Sam when R did that:
