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She'd started the shower, but it ran unoccupied for the moment. Siddie leaned wearily against the shower stall, trying to find the energy to get in. She needed a nap, but sleeping all sweaty and with paint still in her hair? No thanks. So she'd ended up in the bathroom instead, half dressed and feeling low. The stifled fury she'd felt after the match had drained out of her, leaving her discouraged and feeling thoroughly inadequate. She'd been shot out without getting a hit in every time she'd stepped onto the field.

She'd failed her Fitness club teammates, and even if Riley wasn't pissed at her, or the rest of them, she was pissed at herself. ... Actually, the other club members were probably pissed at her too, after she'd snapped at them in the tent. Oh, great. What had she been thinking?

She tugged her shirt the rest of the way off and grimaced at it. Yuck. It was covered in blue. She hoped it would wash out, otherwise Riley was going to hear from her about ruined clothes. It would wash out, wouldn't it? She dropped it on the floor with a sigh, finished undressing, and stepped into the shower. Hot water and soap would stop her feeling physically gross, at least.

She'd heard the door open, but ignored it. She was showering. And sulking, maybe, but who could blame her? Today had sucked pretty hard so far.

Sammy's voice. Siddie opened her eyes and looked back towards the curtain. "Yeah," she said. She wanted Sammy's company, even as she didn't want anyone to look at her right now. She was naked, stripped of the protective layers of her clothing, only a shadow, only herself. She wouldn't have let anyone else see her this way. She wouldn't have let Sammy, but Sammy was her ghoulfriend, and that was - it was more serious than she'd expected it to be, involved more feelings and genuine affection.

And then Sammy made a crack about blue paint. Siddie hissed softly and turned away, ducking her head under the water. Unexpectedly, her eyes stung. Her breath hitched. Oh, she didn't want to cry. Her voice broke as she spoke. "I'm. I'm sorry. I failed you all."

Siddie turned to look up at Sammy, the thin line of her mouth twisting unhappily. She just looked for a long moment, then she half-collapsed against Sammy, her shoulders shaking with hitching sobs. "I don't - I'm no good at anything, Sammy, I can't - I can't do it, I couldn't even - what am I going to do?" she choked out. "I'm - I'm not a good monster - all I do is play - play with dolls and be pretty - that's not like a monster at all - " She broke off and hid her face against Sammy's shoulder, shaking as she cried.

"I want - I don't - I don't know," Siddie wailed. "I don't want to be scared. I want to be scary. I want not do something and - and - and not fail." She clung to Sammy, her whole body tense and shaking. She was angry at herself, uncertain; she'd always assumed that she'd just breeze through whatever she did, and the realities of her schooling had come as a slap in the face. She was tired of being useless. She was jut tired of it.

She was such a princess, she thought. She'd chickened out, over and over, and it was stupid, and she wanted to stop.

"It - it's not - " Siddie trailed off and hiccuped, all the aggressive tension draining out of her at once to leave her feeling exhausted and guilty. It's not about you? It hadn't come out of her mouth, thank jack, but wasn't that ever selfish? She wasn't the only creature in Halloween scared and insecure and not knowing what to do. And here she was, dripping all over Sammy like a wet worm, like she couldn't stand up and face things herself. She could, couldn't she? She looked up at Sammy through the wet fringe of her bangs, studying her ghoulfriend's face and feeling like she was really seeing her for the first time.

She gathered herself up and straightened, drawing her shoulders back. "I'll do better," she said, and met Sammy's eyes. Another little sob escaped her before she could control it, but she swallowed hard and stopped it before she could fall into a fit of hysterical tears again.

Siddie almost burst into tears again, this time out of sheer relief and gratitude. Sammy wasn't questioning her, wasn't doubting her, just - just supporting her, without knowing what, or why, or even asking what had triggered off this sudden, new resolve. Just believing in her. That meant rather more than she'd expected. She smiled shakily at Sammy, and with all the dignity she could manage, said, "Thank you. I - thank you."

There should probably be something momentous or solemn or important after that, she felt, but saying anything else ... well, she couldn't think of anything. So, after a moment, she reached for the soap and offered it to Sammy, almost shyly. "Wash my back? Please?" she asked.

"I can do that." Siddie turned around, pulling the long loose fall of her hair forward over her shoulder. She felt weirdly light now, as if pouring out her worries along with her tears had drained some sort of poison out of her. Not that poison was always that nasty, mind; Mother served the fine, aged kind at her parties. But this had been like horrid, cheap poison, the sort that burned your throat and made your eyes water and your fingers twitch.

As Sammy rubbed the soap over her back, she relaxed further, enjoying the smooth, gentle sensation. As hard as school was, she realized, she preferred this to staying at home, to the constant tension and unspecified, floating apprehension that always seemed to permeate the haunted mansion. There, she had to think three times about anything she said before she said it, had to be perfect and delicate and immaculate, had to be perfect.

Here, she had made mistakes, had gotten dirty, spoken without thinking, been stupid, and still Sammy smiled that same smile and accepted her, and it was - well - kind of okay. She might sort of have friends. The absentminded fingers twisting at a lock of her hair stilled now, startled by the thought. Friends? That would be - nice.

"Yeah," Siddie said, letting Sammy pull her back. She tipped her head back to rest on Sammy's shoulder, closing her eyes in pleasant relaxation. "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm okay now." One of her hands came up to reach behind her, combing her fingers through the wet fall of Sammy's hair, fingertips brushing briefly across the bone where Sammy's skull was exposed. "Thank you," she offered. "You - thank you for helping."