[R] Time heals... everything? (Samson/Ainsley)

[zippedsiren]

It look a long time for Sam to hear about Ainsley having been gravely ill. Sam has his reasons for staying away and leaving her alone. So it wasn’t surprising that he had to hear about her from his mother, who heard it from who knows where (probably Bell or the parental gossip mill). But there Sam was, standing outside McMahon’s door, just like he had done months earlier to announce his return. He stood there, shuffling his feet slightly and hands shoved into his pockets. Sam stared at the door, unblinking, trying to decide if he should knock or ring the bell. Hopefully, it would cheer Ainsley up to see him, but still… there was lingering doubt.

So he just stood there, shuffling and staring at the door as if willing it to make a decision for him. Except doors were not sentient, and if he wanted to see the girl and brighten her day, even just a bit, he’d have to do something.

Sam opted to knock.  

[Appeal]

Ainsley had been feeling well enough to be left alone, and having the house alone meant she took up space on the couch instead of her bed. She was in the middle of channel surfing, unable to simply choose one thing to watch, when she heard a knock at the door. She shifted her weight on the couch and glanced to the hallway, her eyes settling on the flowers in the vase on the table in front of her. Did Peter come back? She was a bit hopefully, feeling a little lonely.

Up to her feet with a stagger, Ainsley slowly dragged herself to the door. This time, instead of opening the door in her pajamas, Ainsley was in a very simple dress. She made the mistake and felt the embarrassment of having answered the door in her pajamas already and this time she had prepared by putting on something before coming downstairs. Something loose enough that she could laze around and not feel uncomfortable but stylish enough that she still felt fabulous. Either way, it made her feel a lot better than sitting in pajamas did.

"Hello?" She said, opening the door a crack before she recognized the face and swung it open full swing.

"Sam? What..." she said, having to take a breath. "What are you doing here?"

 

[zippedsiren]

Sam wasn’t sure what he expected when the door opened. Part of him thought it would be her sister, there to turn him away. Part of him thought nobody would answer. What he didn’t really expect was to see Ainsley herself opening the door, given how sick he thought she was, and looking relatively alright. A little worse for ware and paler than usual, but definitely not on her deathbed.

“Hey. You look…” he eyed up her dress, and admired her effort; had he been her shoes he would probably stay in boxers and t-shirts and walk around draped in a blanket. “You look alright, pale, but alright. I heard you were sick. So. You know.”

Sam did not know if he was the only person to come visit or not.  

[Appeal]

Ainsley's deathbed had been in the hospital, and after getting to a stable condition she had been sent home. Sam had gotten the news late because now she had been home for about a week. The first week out of the hospital had been the worst and she spent that week mostly up in her bedroom. However, now she was feeling well enough to at least move around the house and that meant she spent most of the day watching the Discovery channel.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered. "I've been out of the hospital for a bit over a week now so I am feeling much better than I was. Do you... want to come in?"

 

[zippedsiren]

Appeal

A week… it might as well have been months. Samson felt a deep pang of guilt as the word left her lips. A whole week of going through his own unsorted teenage mess of hormones and wishy-washy feelings; so much that he abandoned his friend when she probably really needed him the most. Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach as she looked at her. What if it had been worse? And he hadn’t been there to help… Not there was much he could have done about an illness, but he could have tried.. or sat by her bedside in the hospital at least. But no, he stayed away to sort through his ‘feelings’, and was still unsure about how he felt about the girl who stood before him, and that magical girl he stole a kiss from; his friend and his… ally, there could be room for both in his heart, if he could ever push out the guilt.

Samson just stood there for a moment to ponder what it was he had been doing with time during that week that was so important to miss this, and to miss her. Nothing at all, was the judgment he came to. He almost forgot the invitation to come in. he sort of shook his head, “oh…. Uh….”

A feeble smile formed, and he did not want to disappoint. “ Maybe more a little bit. If you want.”