Ginger Snaps - Haunted : Chapter 6 - Motels and Moments
Chapter Six - Motels and Moments
Summary: Brigitte leaves the cupboard first, which results in both her and Sam’s survival. The story continues with Brigitte and Sam’s relationship, and the strain that Ginger’s ghost puts on it.
Warnings: Character death…DUH! Brigitte/Sam romance
Rating: PG13
Before the sun had even set in the sky, Brigitte and Sam had pulled into a motel. Sam had been driving for near enough 24 straight hours without sleep, and was beginning to droop at the wheel. The place they’d stopped at looked like it’d come straight out of a horror film. Not that this bothered them. Sam just wanted to sleep and Brigitte... well she had barely said two words since the morning, hadn’t even looked at Sam. Although Sam did worry, he knew this was a much better way for Brigitte to cope, than to be taking overdoses.
The fact that they could only get a double room only added to Sam’s suspicions that they were in a horror movie... it was obviously the sort of place that teenagers and adulterers got together to do the things they wouldn’t even dream of doing at home. Places like this were breeding grounds for the most hated and feared of all killers... the ones that struck while you fucked. Who wants to be killed at a time like that! There was some comfort in the fact that nothing of that sort would be going on in their room... or was that disappointment?
Sam wanted nothing more to drop in the bed, fully clothed, and fall asleep, but he was a too much of a gentleman for that. He wasn’t about to let Brigitte sleep on the couch.
“You can take the bed Brigitte, you look like you need it more than me,” Sam said as he dumped their bags on the floor. Brigitte nodded. “Are you hungry? I could go to that fast food place across the street,” Sam asked. Brigitte shook her head. She crawled into the bed, straight under the covers, without even taking off her clothes. “Brigitte, are you going to be okay?” Sam asked.
“I just need to sleep...” She whispered. Sam nodded.
“Okay, but if I think that you’re having any effects from that overdose, I’m taking you to hospital. No question about it this time Rabbit,” he said.
“Okay...” Brigitte said her voice dull and distant. She was asleep before Sam could reply. Sam watched her sleep from the couch for next hour or so. He was so terrified that something might be wrong with her, that he didn’t want to take his eyes off her. However, as darkness fell, Sam’s body finally gave in, and he fell asleep.
The next morning when Sam awoke, he was meet with the sight of Brigitte, in the same position she had been in the night before when she had drifted off, awake and staring into space. “Good morning Brigitte...” he said with a yawn as he clambered off the sofa. She didn’t reply. “Want breakfast? McDonalds do breakfast right? I don’t know, I never go to ‘em” he said as he stretched away the aches from a night on the sofa. Still Brigitte said nothing, didn’t even move. Sam wasn’t too worried by Brigitte’s behaviour. She was probably still half asleep...or maybe she was one of those people that sometimes slept with their eyes open? However even after he was showered and changed, Brigitte had still not moved. “Brigitte?” Sam whispered as he ran a towel through his hair. Nothing. “Come on Brigitte, get up sweetheart,” Nothing. “Can you say something, anything.... just let me know you’re okay!” Nothing. Sam sighed and threw his towel to the floor. “I’m going for breakfast, you want anything?” Still, nothing. Sam slammed the door on his way out.
Sam returned half an hour later to find Brigitte in the exact same place that he’d left her in. “Brigitte?” Nothing. He went up to the bed, knelt down by her head. “Come on sweetheart, talk to me,” he whispered. Still Brigitte said nothing, she didn’t even move her gaze to look at him. He swept her hair from her face, hoping it would at least make her look at him. “I’m really worried now Brigitte, talk to me!” Sam cried, his throat tight. Nothing. “Look Brigitte, if you’re not going to talk to me, I might as well fuck off!” he said, hoping to getting her annoyed would provoke some sort of reaction in her. But still, she didn’t even blink. Sam groaned in anger, but didn’t leave as he said he would. Instead he sat down in front of the TV, hoping it would distract him. Hoping even more that some horror film or something would come on and be interesting enough for Brigitte to want to watch. He doubted it somehow. The first channel he came across... fuzz... and the next, and indeed, the next. He really wished he hadn’t forked out extra for the TV. Eventually, he threw the controller to the table, now totally and completely annoyed. “Brigitte? Could you move or something? Give me some sigh that you’re alive in there,” he called over, fighting the temptation to go over and shake her. Still Brigitte did nothing but stare out into space. “Fuck this,” Sam cried out. He was fed up with Brigitte’s lack of...well anything! He needed to get away from her, away from the motel. He needed to go somewhere where he could just lose himself... so he found himself a bar...
Sam normally had a high tolerance for alcohol. He could drink a bottle of whiskey and not feel any effect at all. However today Sam could barely finish his second beer out of fear he would pass out. And he’d been nursing his drinks all day! He was wasted, there was no other way to put it. What the hell was in that beer? Sam’s head began to hurt as he tried to work out what could have possibly been in his drink that had got him so wasted. He had to order a cup of coffee, and a bag of chips, before he felt sober enough to walk the few blocks back to the motel. It took all of his concentration to find the place. It was dark when he finally stumbled in through the door. Despite the fact that Sam fell flat on his face, Brigitte didn’t move. Sam growled in anger as he realized that Brigitte was still in the exact same place he’d left her in before he’d gone out. Sam dragged himself to his feet,
“You...you know what Brigitte..?” he said, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to move across the room. “I am so...so sick of you...” He had to grab the wall to stop himself from falling. “You have put me through... So. Much. Shit!” he started waving his finger at her, “You just...just fucking lie there...” he began to slip down the wall. “Don’t eat...don’t fucking even...MOVE...” he was on the floor. “I keep...fucking...saving you from yourself...and...and what do you do? Nothing! Ungrateful bitch!” Sam had to lean his head against the wall to stop his head from spinning. “You are....my best friend... and you don’t give a shit...” Sam was lying down now. “You’re cold Brigitte...fucking cold...” Sam’s eyes closed “I wish...wish that I had just...gone home...” Sam passed out before he could say anymore, before he could see that Brigitte had finally moved... to wipe away a tear.
“Fuck...my head...” Sam cried as he awoke the next morning. “Why am I on the floor?” he questioned as he sat up and looked down. He dragged himself to his feet. He stumbled, steadied himself. He needed a coffee! He wondered again what the hell could have been in the beer he’d had the day before.... maybe someone had drugged it? Thinking however, only strengthened Sam’s headache. God it had been so long since he’d had a hang-over he’d almost forgotten what it was like. A noise from the bed pulled Sam from his thoughts. Brigitte had moved in her sleep... it looked like she was having a nightmare. With a frown, Sam approached the bed. He went to wake Brigitte, but then caught sight of her eyes. Red. Puffy. She had been crying. Sam pulled his hand away, confused. Why had she been... but his thoughts were interrupted by a memory - “I wish...wish that I had just...gone home...” - Shit! Had he really said that? Sam thought hard, desperately trying to bring back the memories of the night before. It soon came back... the things he’d said to her, the rude, harsh tone of his voice.... “Oh God...” he whispered. He couldn’t quite believe that he’d said those things to Brigitte... it was so unlike him. Sam started to panic. What the hell was going on with him? He’d puked when he’d had weed, got wasted on 2 beers, and had developed more of a temper than usual. “Fuck!” He cried in frustration as he slammed his fist against the wall. The cheap plaster board crumbled under his hand. “Fuck!” He cried again. He’d have to pay for that! Suddenly something clicked in Sam’s head. The monkshood... could it possibly have had some effect on his drug use and drinking? Could his increased temper be part of his withdrawals..? It was possible. He hadn’t had any cravings for any drugs, or drink for that matter, since Halloween night. Sam was glad he’d brought his books with him, he wanted answer’s. He slipped from the room and went to the back of his van, where he sat and read up on the effects of Lycanthropy and monkshood.
While there was no link between taking monkshood, Lycanthropy and being ‘clean’ he knew that his theories must be right. There was no other explanation for it. His conclusion gave him perspective on the Brigitte situation. Could this be her reaction to the monkshood? Suicide and silent. It was possible. Sam realized he needed to be more patient with Brigitte. She was going through some serious shit...she had killed her Lycanthrope sister, her only friend in the world... and had gone on the run with the local drug dealer. She now had no one to tell her what to do. She was completely lost. Without Ginger, she was simply... empty...
He returned to their room to find her awake and unmoved. At least she was awake.... Sam went and sat at the end of her bed. He ducked his head, ashamed. “I’m sorry about what I said before Brigitte...it was...disgraceful. I’m so ashamed of myself. I wish more than anything I had not said those words to you. But I did, and I hope you can forgive me...” Brigitte said nothing.... but he was sure the corners of her mouth twitched. Sam spent the rest of the day trying to talk Brigitte out of her coma-like state. Although he had no effect on her, he managed to stay calm and patient throughout. He expressed over and over how concerned he was, how sorry he was, and most importantly how much he wished he could take back the events of the last month for her. Eventually night fell, and Sam was ready to collapse. He was utterly exhausted. As he lay in the dark, trying to drift off, he finally found the courage to say something to Brigitte he’d wanted to say to her since he’d first realized that she wasn’t going to move off the bed any time soon. “Brigitte...Don’t know if you can hear me sweetheart....but if you can, I just want you to know...you are the only one true friend I have ever had. Its ripping me apart...no, killing me, to see you like this! Brigitte, please, I’m begging you do something! Anything! Move...sleep...eat...anything! I can’t lose you Brigitte....” He paused. He didn’t know what else to say. “Please...” his last word was chocked back with the emotion that had taken him over. Tears poured down his face, and he struggled to wipe them away. Brigitte watched on... unable to control hers.
After she was sure he was asleep, Brigitte slid out of bed. Her limbs were stiff and awkward to move after lying so still for so long. She crept into the bathroom and cleaned herself with a cloth. Not daring to turn on the shower encase she woke Sam. She tugged on some clean clothes and slipped out of the room, heading for the fast food restaurant across the street. When she returned, Sam was still fast asleep, the tears from before dried in sporadic patterns on his cheeks. Brigitte frowned. She hated the idea that she was the cause of those tears. She slipped back into her pyjamas and then into bed with a sigh. She would make things right with Sam in the morning. Right now she needed sleep. Her sleep over the past few days had been patchy at best. She was exhausted. However just because she wanted to sleep, and just because she needed to sleep, didn’t mean she was going to sleep. She knew that she was restless because of the way things were with Sam.... but dare she wake him now? At 3am?
“Sam...?” He stirred in his sleep, but didn’t wake. “Sam!” He voice was louder this time, more urgent. Sam jerked awake, fell of the sofa.
“Brigitte?” he mumbled into the darkness. Was she really talking to him again? Or was that all part of his dream?
“Sam...I...” what was she supposed to say? ‘Sorry that I went into shock after killing my sister, and almost killing myself?’ Brigitte was pulled from her thoughts when Sam appeared beside her.
“What’s wrong?” He whispered, his voice holding only concern, no resentment for the last few days at all.
“It’s...nothing, don’t worry about it,” she whispered as she attempted to turn over, but Sam put a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s something Rabbit,” Sam said. He sat on the bed beside her, stroked her hair. Brigitte sniffed, wiped her eyes.
“I’m sorry Sam,” she whispered. Sam smiled.
“You have nothing to be sorry for sweetie, you’ve been through some shit in the last few days,” Sam said in a comforting voice.
“That’s no excuse,” Brigitte whispered. “I’ve been a bitch,” Sam chuckled.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself... now come on, get to sleep before you get worked up over nothing,” He said as he pulled the covers over her. Brigitte nodded.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. Sam froze. Had he heard her right?
“Rabbit?”
“Don’t go... I need you here,” she whispered, moving up at the same time.
“Okay sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered. He went to climb into bed, but stopped as he caught sight of himself. “I’m only wearing boxers Brigitte,” he whispered.
“I don’t care.... I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered. Sam slipped under the covers, but stayed as far from Brigitte as was possible. “Hold me....” she whispered. And so he slipped his arms around her. As she felt Sam’s arm’s wrap around her, felt his flesh against her own, Brigitte felt a heat spread through her, like nothing she had never felt before. She smiled.
“Night Rabbit,” Sam whispered, his voice muffled as his face was lost somewhere in her hair.
“Goodnight Sam,” she whispered as she took his hand and linked his fingers with her own.