Sting (SAM): ©Skiller0Dani

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s a m p o t t o r f f

Song: Who Knew by P!nk 

not happy today. 

~DaNi 

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She felt her stomach drop as the needle hit her skin, easily sinking down to her bone. She leaned her head back, exhaling as blood runs down her hip. Kian takes her hand, running his thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. He looks tired. He looks different. He's not the same person anymore, and neither is she. He looks up to her, with red eyes. This is hard, on everyone. 

She doesn't remember what it feels like to be okay. 

*** 

Sam leaned against the wall, with a cigarette hanging from between his lips. His hair blew gently in the wind, the purple looked so vibrant against the darkness of the concrete. His eyes were closed as he inhaled, and exhaled the feeling of ecstasy that came with the nicotine. She stood with crossed arms in the doorway, watching with angry eyes, 

"Sam." She said with a hurt in her voice. His head lolled to the side, looking at her, with a twinge of guilt in his eyes.  

"Hey," He spoke in a low gravelly voice, the smoke lining the inside of his throat. The metal of his lip ring pushed against his heated skin as he placed the cigarette in his lips again, as she moved towards him. His black vans pressed against the wall as he lifted his leg, to give himself some leverage to stand on. She merely stood by, as he all but ignored her painful scowl. He wiped his clammy palm against his sweatpants when she finally spoke again. 

"You told me you'd stop." She said, wanting to knock the cigarette out of his trembling palm. This is his eighth one tonight. 

He simply shrugged her off, not paying any attention to her concern. 

***

The pain was hardly bothering her as the tattooist continued to work. Kian glanced down to look at how it's coming along, and he sends her a weak smile to tell her it looks good. She smiles a watery smile in return, tears running down her cheeks. But not because of the tattoo, but because of the reason behind it. 

The world felt incomplete. 

*** 

"He smokes like a goddamn chimney." Kian grumbled from the window, as Sam was again out beside the house. Y/N simply sat on the couch, trying her best not to think about it. 

"He keeps this up, he'll end up killing himself." He signs in concern as he sunk onto the couch next to her. The backdoor swung open, and the sound of his vans against the tile can be heard. Sam moves into the living room, not smelling of cigarette smoke due to his cologne. He cleared his throat of the burning, as he sat down in the armchair. 

"Please stop." Y/N asks in a quiet voice, and Sam remains silent, picking at the skin by his thumb nail. 

"Do you not fucking care?" Kian snaps, causing Sam to look up at him. 

"I do care," Sam defends, but Kian rolls his eyes. 

"About what? You don't care enough about us to stop. You don't care enough about yourself to stop." Kian asked in disbelief. 

"I care. I'll stop." Sam tells them, but all three of them know that they're just empty words. 

"How many times have I heard that before?" Y/N grumbled, not looking up at him. Sam leaned back against the armchair, not answering. 

"Don't you realize how scared I am Sam? I love you more than anything and I want you in my life!" Y/N exclaimed, standing from the couch. 

"I want that too baby." Sam speaks, standing as well in an attempt to calm her down. He didn't want her to cry, he hates it when she cries. Especially when it's his fault, he hates that more. 

"Then how are we gonna have that, if you kill yourself by smoking too much? Don't you care at all about our future?" She asks, tears in her eyes. Nothing seems to work, no matter how hard they try, they can't get through to him. 

"I do care! I am stopping, I promised didn't I?" He asks her, taking a step closer to her. 

"You fucking lied! You smoked 8 tonight Sam!" She cried and he stepped in front of her. His fingers move around her wrists and he gently pulls her into his chest. She rests her hands against his shoulders as she cries into his neck. He holds her tightly to him, running a gentle hand up and down her back. 

***

"Done," The tattooist informs her as she finally stands, moving to the mirror. Her eyes well up when she see's the complete tattoo. Kian comes up behind her, displaying his own matching tattoo on his left forearm. She turns to face him, tears running down her cheeks and he pulls her against his chest. She trembles in Kian's grip, remembering how it felt to be held by Sam. 

He's not here anymore. 

*** 

They both sat eagerly in the hospital room, Sam's knee bouncing up and down. 

"It's probably nothing," She says with hope, but they both know. They knew this was coming. He knew this was going to happen, but he didn't stop. The rush was too good, the nicotine was too damn sweet. He sat on the bed, while Y/N stood by him, with her hands tightly clasped together. They nervously awaited the Doctor's return, scared of what the various tests would reveal. The door slowly opened, with a squeal of the hinges the Doctor strode over, with a certain hesitancy in each step. 

"Well," The Doctor began but Sam spoke up. 

"Just tell me." He asked, his expression telling the Doctor that he already knew. 

"It's cancer." He confirmed and Y/N gasped, with tears in her eyes. Sam just nodded, already having known this was coming. Y/N felt her knee's get weak as she collapsed to the ground, Sam instantly moving to lift her. He stood her up, and pulled her against his chest, the Doctor watching them with sorrow in his eyes. Sam held her against him as she desperately gripped onto the fabric of his t-shirt, crying into his shoulder. 

***

She ran her fingers over the ink, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She looked at it one final time in the mirror, wanting to capture Sam in it somehow. Kian held the door for her as she read the tattoo just one more time. 

p o t t o r f f 

***

Sam stood with his hands in his pockets, the word ringing in his head. Cancer. He shook his head, feeling fear crawl into his skin, as he lit another cigarette and placed it between his lips. 

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