I'll Stand By You

To say the day had been long for registered nurse Samantha James would have probably been one of the world's most massive understatements in history. The brunette's hair was falling out of her bun after the long days work, strand hanging in her face even after multiple attempts to brush them from her eyes. A fight had broken out in the waiting room earlier that day, and Samantha had been thrown around a bit in the process, so she was a bit more sore than usual, but had refused to go home early. She sat her bag on the seat of her walker, and headed out the door to go sit in her usual spot, a bench a short walking distance from the clinic, and the usual place where Roger would pick her up.

If it wasn't for Sammy, Roger noted with the irony Mark constantly went on about in his depressing films, he really wouldn't have any sense of time at all anymore. When he wasn't with her, there was nothing to say it was today; it might as well have been yesterday or last week. He'd sit and strum the same few chords of a song he'd never finish and sit on the roof until it grew too cold and he needed a hit. Drugs didn't do for him this time when they did the last. The euphoria, he knew only now, had been April. And Mimi. And the only time it resurfaced was when he with Samantha. It was as guilt inducing as it was a craving and he damned Collins as much as he thanked him for dragging his ass to the clinic that day. He'd lost twice, fallen harder each time, and now- by some strange power- he was throwing himself at the ledge again. Truthfully, he wished he'd finally just let go and be done with it. Not be such a massochist, setting himself up for failure. But no, whatever it was: today or tomorrow or yesterday or last week, there was that moment every day he had to face Mark's uncomfortable gaze. She was getting off work, he'd say. Or sometimes just the time. Sometimes he wouldn't say anything. It was the one thing that showed Roger and Mark were still best friends without a question. And today was one of those day's Roger only had to see Mark's eyes to know, and they lingered a moment, just a moment too long as he slid off his place on the windowsil and out the door. Down the filthy streets of Alphabet City, past the people that sang one day and begged the next. He saw her seated at her usually bench and came up behind her quietly, pushing a fallen peice of her hair behind her with a shaky hand. Wasn't it too early for that? Did he really care? So wrong. So right. "Hey," he rounded about her vision, "Are you okay?"

The brunette jumped a bit at the sudden touch, always having been a very easy person to startle. Even if she heard your footsteps, or you spoke to her before getting closer, she was still startled by sudden touch, or a voice. She blushed a bit, moving a hand to her face to hide this when she realized it was only Roger. "I have got to get over this!" she told herself, mentally shaking her head. "Hey," he'd greeted, coming around into her line of sight. She smiled when she could actually see him. Seeing him had become the best part of her day. It'd given her a reason to forget the dark, grizzly plan she'd had upon first fleeing her small North Carolina hometown. "Are you okay?" he'd asked her. She was slightly puzzled by his question at first, but then realized she probably looked a bit more frazzled than she did on any other given work day. She responded with a small nod and a smile. "Yeah darlin' I'm fine, don't worry about me," she drawled softly, her accent coming through as it did from time to time when she wasn't concentrating on hiding it. Her accent was think, but it wasn't quite the stereotypical southern twang that most people think of when they think of a southern accent. It was a soft drawl to certain words, that often thickened at points when her emotions would heighten.

"Yeah, alright" Roger nodded, not bothering to even pretend he'd be sticking to that. He always had to fall for girls with causes, didn't he? Ones with free spirits, helping others, so much larger than life itself. Never one that didn't need worrying about; that might have actually made his life simple. And her accent, as many times as it had slipped through her speech since they met, never ceased to make him smile. He focused on it, if only to distract himself. "So, uh, how was your day? Are you ready to go?" None too shockingly, his social skills had improved very little since he effectively stopped caring for them some years ago, and his try at casual conversation was.. endearing because you know he tried, but that's about the only good thing you could say on it. He offered her a hand in a somewhat mock gentlemanly and somewhat rather genuine fasion. "I was actually thinking, if you wanted, you could maybe come stay at the Loft with us. I mean, its twice as crappy as the place you're at now, but we're free entertainment."

"Day was long, hard, but worth it as always," Sammy replied when Roger asked how her day had been. "A bit more eventful than most," she added, grabbing the side of her walker with one hand as she moved to stand up, only to give a small hiss of pain before sitting back down. Her back wasn't going to allow that movement, not yet anyways. She mentally cursed herself for allowing her pain to be shown, she'd always been one to hide it, to put the well being of others before herself. She listened as Roger mentioned the idea of her moving into the loft with him, hoping if she continued the conversation Roger would forget the signs of pain she'd shown. "I'd like that," she smiled. "I'd like that a lot, but if you want me to move in with you, you'll have to do something for me."

Roger notced her hiss of pain, but refrained from saying anything about it. It wasn't to be mistaken that he didn't care, he did, but words- especailly wrong words like prying and sympathy which were really the only two options in the situation- didn't help anything. She was strong. That wasn't a doubt in his mind about that. She was stronger than him in a lot of meanings of the word. And maybe if was his own selfish vision of her that kept him from seeing anything less, but he didn't bring it up the same was she didn't bring up the fact that his hand had been shaking and he was 'casually' pacing between the two sides of the bench for quite a whle before finally sitting next to her. Her statement intregued him more than it worried him. For now. He had quite a few ideas running about his head, but something in his voice was more serious than any of them. "What do I have to do?"

"Your little habit Roger," said Sammy, her voice going from it's usual soft, gentle tone to a more serious firm one. She was serious about this, dead serious. She'd spent many a night at hoe alone thinking about when she would approach the subject, and now seem ed like the only time that felt right. "If you want me to move into the loft with you, I will, but I don't want you using anymore, it has to stop." She looked away for a moment, biting down on her lower lip. What she was about to tell him she'd never told a soul before. She closed her eyes as she could feel the memories flooding back to her mind even after she tried so hard to push them away, and the tears that came with them. It took everything she had to keep her voice from shaking as she turned to face him again and began to speak. "Toward the end...Christopher started taking morphine for pain, and he got hooked..." she paused to steady herself, blinking back a few tears. "I watched him destroy himself with that up until the day he died in my arms," she stopped again, this time so she could look into Roger's eyes. "I won't sit by and watch you do the same Roger, I won't do it."

He was taken aback by it at first. "Sammy..." A pittiful debate, if you could even call it that, but it hardly seemed like something for her to ask. He wanted this, so much, but he'd gone through withdrawal enough times already in his life. He didn't think he could do it again, want to or otherwise. "Shit, Sammy...not now" She had to undertand. "I can't." But then she changed her demeanor and explained her reasons, and the part of Roger that for some reason loved her deeply and unquestionably was touched, hurt, earger not to destroy himself for her. But then, people did that. April did that. Mimi did that. Christopher did that. And neither Roger or Sammy would fault any of those people, he knew. Why couldn't he take the easy way out? How was that in any way fair? He was going to die anyways. He was going to die soon anyways. It shouldn't matter to her.. but it did.. and she wanted him to change. And she wasn't the only one. The nervous pains running up his body seemed to already have intensified in preperation for what he was argeeing to. He didn't really have words for it. He just got himself to still and look her in the eyes and nod. Not eager, but honest. He didn't want to loose her over something like this.

Sammy reached over to take one of Roger's hands in her own, squeezing it gently. "I know it won't be easy Roger, and I know it won't happen overnight," she said. "The only thing I do know is you can do it." She rubbed the back of the hand she was holding with her thumb. "I'll be right there with you, every step of the way, I promise, you don't have to do this alone I won't let you do this alone. Sammy stopped for a moment, giving Roger a small smile. "I'll take some time off from the clinic, turn everything over to my second in command," she said. "Whatever it take Roger, I'm gonna get you through this."

"You don't have to take time off," he said, her hand comforting him a little. Prideful and worried about her well being, he didnt want her to be there for any of it. He didnt want to her hurt; he didnt want her to see him hurting. He'd change his mind when it was happening he knew, but what he wanted during that time wasnt supposed to matter. "Its counterproductive, you know. You love your job. You move in when its all over." Last time Mo moved out. It wasnt his fault; shed have done it eventually either way... But it certainly sped things up.

Sammy shook her head. "I'm not asking for permission Roger," she said. "I'm going to take time off the from the clinic and I'm going to be there to take care of you." "I've already made up my mind and nothing you can do or say is going to change that." She meant that. She knew Roger could be stubborn, but she was about to show him just how stubborn she could be.

"How bout please?" he tried, looking at her seriously. "Look, I know you want to, and thanks, but this isnt something you should be involved with. Ask Mark or Collins. Id be surprised if they even let you stay." he hoped that was true anyway. The two of them were smart enough to know exactly what to do. But theyd more or less given up on the matter -he didnt blame them- and so when she was stubborn, and she was, shed win. He wasnt looking forward to it.

"I've actually spoken to Collins about it," said Sammy. "He happens to agree that I should be there." She'd spoken to Collins on multiple occasions about exactly how to deal with approaching the subject in the first place. He'd sort of become her how to giude on decoding the man that is Roger Davis. Sammy sighed softly, before she spoke again, her accent thickened again. "Roger, darlin' I know what you're tryin' to do," she said. "I know you're tryin' to protect me or whatever, but don't, I'm a big girl I can take care of myself I'm not a porcelain doll, sugar." "I know exactly what I'm gettin' into, but I'm not scared, because I'm doin' it for you, because I love you."

Well now Roger felt right conspirized against. Collins had mentioned the empty room in the Loft as well. "Bastard," he mumbled, but without any real venom towards the man who always seemed to know best for everyone. Or think he did anyway, "Im not saying you cant; id just rather you didnt. Like you said, I can take care of myself too." he sighed, "but youre not gonna listen to me right?"

Sammy sighed softly. She could feel her "nothing you do or say is going to change that." claim slowly fading. She honestly hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected him to not want her there, and the fact that he didn't stung a bit more than she was willing to admit. She reached a hand up to play with the small key that hung from the chain around her neck, a chain that also held Christopher's engagement ring he'd given her. She looked away, sitting in silence for a moment before she spoke. "I'm not gonna force you to let me be there, I have no right to," she said softly. "but I wanna be there, something's telling me I need to be there."

"Ill probably change mind mind about whether or not I want i want you there a hundres times." he admited, trying to sound offhanded about whst he knew for a fact. Hed want her to help him but not want her to see him. And eventually he probably wouldnt care anymore, for one of many reasons. "collins probably already said this, but you might as well not listen to anything i say as of about... Three minutes ago. Cause I dont even know... But i trust you" and that was the cloest hed get to asking for her help.

"He did warn me," Sammy said with a nod, turning to face Roger again. "But there are reasons that being there for you means so much to me, and I want you to understand those reasons," she said. "One, it's part of the way I was raised, by the way I was taught growing up, I'm supposed to be there, through the smiles, the tears, the good, the bad, the up the down, I'm supposed to be the support system," she explained. "and two, I don't know if I've ever told you this before, but you gave my life a a purpose again Roger," she stopped to pull her jacket tighter around herself, almost as if she were trying to hide the marks on her arms that stood as memories of her last years in Cameron. "When I came to New York, I came so no one I knew would have to find my body when I died," she admitted. "My whole point in coming here was suicide....and then I met you, and you gave me a reason to want to live again, you gave me a reason to wake up in the morning, I owe it to you to be there after everything you've done for me."

It was one of those slap in the face moments, finding out he'd been anything at all to her, let alone some kind of savoir. Somehow he made her have the will even when he didn't have it himself. He was always the accidental rock, and then, Collins was simply a bloidy genious that Roger owed more thank yous too than he could count. "Im glad youre here." the idea of suicude brought up rough thoughts, nightmares, broken promises. They all thanked him but if he really could have done anything theyd be alive. Not happy in the end; alive. Sammy was alive. She wasnt destroying herself. He was. And things almost made sense. "Thank you."

His thank you caught the brunette off guard for a moment. She shook her head. "You saved me Roger, now it's my turn to do the same. She stopped for a moment contemplating something she'd thought about for weeks, finally she decided now was the right time. She needed to show Roger exactly how important he was, she felt he needed to hear it. Slowly, carefully she stood up again. "C'mon, there's something back at my apartment I wanna show you."

It sounded like something cheesy, off a script, but real life seemed more and more like that lately. Like a demented dream that couldnt decide where it wanted to take itself. He nodded and watched her stand before rising to his feet. Nornally hed have asked for a hint, but after everything that had just gone on, he was fine waiting a little longer before his next surprise.

Earlier back pains forgotten, Sammy hurried off toward the apartment she called home. She didn't know if it was excitement, or just adrenaline running through her at that moment, but she knew she was happy, at least for now. For a split second she thought she could hear Chris' voice in her ear, and the all too familiar words on the small inscription plaque on the neck of her guitar. "Stay strong little songbird, you are the voice of the angels." The short walk to her apartment seemed even shorter this time, and the normally tiresome trip up the stairs seemed to go by with ease. She smiled as she entered the apartment that even in almost a decade in New York was barely unpacked. "Sit down," she told Roger, motioning toward her bed as she moved quickly toward the closet.

Roger felt he was doing more following than actually walking her home, but her excitement was always contagious and made him both very eager and wary to see what she wanted him to when they finally arrived. The way to her appartment and they layout itself hed memorized without knowing it. Hed fumble if asked but could nagivate like it was the second Loft. Only thing misding was the atmosphere. It really didnt look like shed have trouble with the move. He took a seat where she asked him to and clasped his fingers in his lap. Sammy seemed so happy, and even though he didnt know why, he trusted her as much as he said he had and his own uncertanties didnt really matter.

Sammy soon emerged form her closet with her guitar in hand. She was walking without her walker now, as she often tried to as much as she could when at home. She sat down on the corner edge of the bed, turned slightly so she was facing Roger. "Until about a month ago, I hadn't touched this thing since Chris' funeral," said Sammy, strumming softly as she spoke. "But I um....I wrote something....for you," she blushed softly as she said it. Closing her eyes for a moment to get a feel for the music before she started to sing.

Is this the whole picture
Or is it just the start?
Is this the way you love me?
You're capturing my heart
I used to try and walk alone
But I've begun to grow
And when you tell me just to rest
I'm finally letting go
I let go

And I'm here to stay
Nothing can separate us
And I know, I'm ok
You cradle me gently
Wrapped in your arms.... I'm home

I'm seeing so much clearer
Looking through your eyes
I could never find a safer place
Even if I tried
All the times I've needed you
You've never left my side
I'm clinging to your every word
Don't ever let me go
Don't let go

And I'm here to stay
Nothing can separate us
And I know, I'm ok
You cradle me gently
Wrapped in your arms.... I'm home
I'm home...ohoh ohoh ohoh ohoh
I'm wrapped in your arms.

And I'm here to stay
Nothing can separate us
And I know, I'm ok
You cradle me gently
Wrapped in your arms
And I'm here to stay
Nothing can separate us
And I know, I'm ok
You cradle me gently
Wrapped in your arms.... I'm home
I'm home

He was surprised to see her appear with a guitar; shed never mentioned playing. But she did seem to have the understanding, if he brought it up, that should have made him realize. He listened to her play, unable to see and hear nothing but a perfection that couldnt be worded. She was, so, so much larger than life, better than him- but here, what she was trying to say was much the opposite. Thats what being an accidental rock was, he realized; she shined brighter after they got together. She shined for the both of them. "you're beutiful, you know that? I love you" he wasnt sure if hed ever said it, if he had, it was without much thought, and unintended. It wasnt that he didnt; it was that he shouldnt. That he couldnt. But he did.

She smiled when she finished, setting the guitar aside. A blush rose in her cheeks when Roger spoke, and she again quickly moved a hand to cover it. She was never one to take a compliment without blushing, even though she was known as the darling of Cameron, and should have grown quite used to them through the years, she never did.a small giggle escaped her lips, one of those girly, giddy school girl type giggles, only causing her blush to darken more. "I love you too," she replied, hand still unmoved from her face.