Work Text:
"Hey, Sam."
"What's up?" Sam patted the area on her bed next to her. The room was almost entirely packed up as the two were getting ready to head to New York. Tara let out a sigh, detaching herself from the wall, sitting beside Sam and leaning against her, resting her head on her older sister's shoulder.
"Was it easy?" Her voice was weak. She'd been crying.
"Was what easy?" Sam raised an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around Tara, rubbing her shoulder.
"Getting over him."
"Him? Richie?" Tara nodded, averting her gaze to the floor. "I think what made it easier was that alongside being a murderer, he was also a fucking creep. Is this about...?"
"Amber. Fuck, Sam. I loved her. I love her. But... I'm always thinking, "was her love real? Was it always just a faux?" Or "could I have done something? Was I a shitty girlfriend for not noticing that something was wrong??" Could I have done something to—"
"Tara."
"Yeah?"
"It's not, and will never be your fault. Don't blame yourself for what happened. Besides, Amber just wasn't good enough for—"
"Don't say that about my girlf— ex-girlfriend, please."
"Sorry."
"I also uhm, I think— what if I had died, then? Would any of this ever happen?"
"You know how Stab movies are, Tara. It still would've happened."
"Which is why I sometimes wish I'd died that night. You would've gotten the fuck out after the funeral and we wouldn't've gone back to Amber's house for my fucking inhaler and dad's necklace..."
"Tara..." Sam sighed, pulling Tara into an even tighter embrace, the latter burying her sister's shoulder.
"If I died..." Tara stated, voice breaking. "I wouldn't have had to shoot my girlfriend. Fuck. I miss her so much Sam—" A sob. "I love her so much. Everything, everything reminds me of her. I go to my room, I see all the stuff she left behind when staying over— My fucking scars— remind me of her. And I can't stop staring at our messages. And our last ones— before I was attacked, I keep staring at them— thinking, "did she really love me? What could I have done better?" Because who hates their partner so fucking much that they decide "Hey! I'm going to try and kill you tonight for my movie!" How fucked up is that? Is it me that deserved better or was it her? Fuck." Another sob, "Sorry for the long... ramble. I just can't hate her, especially knowing she was manipulated by that fucker— She deserved so much better, and if I'd done something when she started pulling away— Then maybe, maybe Amber would still be alive."
"I don't think there was anything you could've done, Tara..."
"No, there definitely was, I noticed something was wrong and I didn't... I didn't fucking do anything. She is— was my girlfriend and I didn't—" Tara's breath hitched, "I was a shitty girlfriend. It was probably me not helping that pushed her further and further away. Amber probably thought I hated her—" Sam tightened her embrace, sighing again.
"No, I'm sure you were fucking great. You can't blame yourself for choices that aren't yours. It was Amber's choice... Somewhat. She was manipulated—"
"—So you can't blame her entirely, right? It's not her fault that fucker used her."
"It... isn't."
"I wish I could go back in time."
"I do too. I could tell Amber never liked me but for you— I'd bring her back a million times for you, Tara." That elicited a dry chuckle from Tara.
"Mmm, and it's just— first dad, then mom... albeit emotionally, then you, then Wes and Mrs. Hicks— now Amber, my Amber— my fucking girlfriend. And you're back, and who else is going to leave me?"
"Tara," Sam said sternly, running her fingers through her sister's hair. "I'm not going to leave you, no one else is. Chad, Mindy, me— We're all gonna stay. I promise. And I'm so sorry for leaving you before. I'm glad you could let this out. Really." Tara hummed to herself.
"Sometimes— or well, most of the time, I wonder what went through her head? Did she ever question what she was doing? Did she ever question Richie?"
"If she ever did, well— you know how abusers usually are." Tara's breath caught in her throat.
"Fuck." She felt the tears resurface, they pricked at the corners of her eyes, the floodgates threatening to open and spill again. "Fuck." Tara repeated. "I hope Amber didn't die thinking I didn't love her but— fuck, this isn't about me..." She clenched her fists. "I wish I'd done something."
"So do I... It's not fair, is it?"
"It's not, Sam. I want my girlfriend back. I want my friends back." Sam rubbed her sister's back soothingly.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I know that doesn't bring then back, it never will but I..."
"Thank you."
"Hm? Why?"
"For being here."
"Of course, I'm always gonna be here from now on. You aren't getting rid of me, ever."
"I love you, Sam."
"I love you too, Tara. Always."
"Always?" Tara's voice broke again.
"Always."