You know what would be cool? Imagine if mybe christina was worse than we thought, and before the all scream 2022 events, something happens and tara calls sam and then she takes her away from that house.
“SOS”
——————————————————————————-
“Long night?”
Sam looked up from scrubbing the grill, grinning at her coworker Zach.
Putting the grill brush down, she went to the hand wash station to clean her hands. “Well, we just worked two clopen shifts in a row and are starting our third. Also, I’m running solely on red bull and wafers, so you tell me, smartass,”.
He just smiled back at her, tossing a towel her way. “Yet you’re still here for another day with me. Face it, Sam, you’re in love with me,” he teased, bumping her hip with his.
She shoved him back, laughing despite herself. “Yeah, and what would your boyfriend say about that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Let me ask,”.
Before she could retort, her phone started ringing in her pocket. It was the ringtone she had specifically for unknown callers. But this one felt different like her phone was burning her in her pocket.
Sam took it out, looking at the screen. It was indeed an unknown number, but the sequence of numbers made her stomach bottom out. It was the area code for Woodsboro. She thought she had gotten rid of all her ties to that place. Not.
“Uh… could you cover the window? I’ll be back in a second,” she asked, giving Zach puppy eyes.
He rolled his eyes but waved her off. “Joe catches you slacking, don’t bring me into it,”.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” she muttered, heading out of the store.
Once outside, she answered the call, nervous to find who may be on the other end.
“Hello?” she asked, unsure of what was happening.
The second she had the voice, she knew she was in deep shit. She recognized that voice. It was the one that she had abandoned four years ago.
“Sam.”
Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach immediately souring. She tried to stop her hands from shaking, but it was useless.
“Tara? Is that you? Are you okay? Where are you?” she frantically asked, nausea rising inside her.
Tara paused, her breathing heavy. Sam could hear that something was going on in the background. Yelling. Someone was screaming and breaking something. She could listen to Tara’s breaths becoming wheezy and a woman crying in Spanish. Christina.
Switching to Spanish, Sam spoke quietly, sensing her mother was on another rage fit. The last thing she needed to do was alert Christina of her baby sister’s hiding place.
“Mi cielo. ¿Qué está pasando? ¿Estás a salvo?”
(My sky. What’s going on? Are you safe?)
She could hear Tara whimper at the words and shift in her spot. If Sam listened carefully, she could hear her mother breaking something against the hardwood floors. It sounded like glass.
“Sammy. No sabía a quién más llamar. Necesito ayuda. Se ha vuelto loca. ¡Loca! Por favor, ven a casa, rápido,” her sister whispered, urgency laced in her tone.
(I didn’t know who to call. I need help. She’s gone crazy. Crazy! Please come home quickly)
Another crash echoed through the phone, and she heard a door slam and Tara screaming.
“¡Puta! ¡Te mataré por lo que has hecho!” her mother yelled, clearly slapping Tara.
(You whore! I will kill you for what you have done!)
Sam didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t do anything from where she was. She was helpless, listening to her mother beat her baby sister over the phone. All she could do was yell for Tara to fight and run! Run! Get out! Get out, baby, get out!
Finally, the phone ended the call, the ringing echoing throughout Sam’s ears. Her voice was hoarse from screaming, her ears echoing with the sounds of her sister being abused. She never thought she would hear her baby sister cry like that again, especially not through the phone.
Without a second thought, she pocketed her phone and made her way to her car, peeling away out of the parking lot.
——
Everything got hazy after the first punch.
The fucked-up part was that Tara was having a good day. She has aced her AP Biology exam and got an A- on her English paper. Plus, Amber had given her her favorite hoodie back. And the twins had invited her to go ice skating with them.
Naturally, nothing good in Tara's life could stay. She was destined to be punished. She knew that deep down, she was a glutton for punishment. How else would she know if she was alive if she hadn't been beaten down by something?
But she wasn’t expecting her mother to go off the rails so soon. They had such a good run in the last couple of weeks. Tara keeps a wide berth from Christina, and in return, her mother gets wasted in the backyard—a win-win.
Within the last day, something had snapped inside of her mother. She had been on the warpath more than usual, smashing bottles onto the floor and breaking random pieces of furniture. It was only a matter of time before Tara would be next.
She was hoping for more time. One more day. If she had made it one more day, she could’ve been out of the house and safe with the twins. But luck was never on her side.
The surprise punch to the jaw once she walked through the front door was shocking, but it kicked her into high gear. Dizzy and disoriented, she shoved her mother back, sprinting up the stairs. She slipped on a broken bottle, falling to her knees, hissing as glass embedded into her palms and knees. It didn’t matter, and she had to move.
Barricading into her closet, she got her phone out, trying to decide who to call. Her jaw aching and her vision blurry, she tried to wrack her brain for somebody. Anybody.
She decided on the long shot. Her mother was making her way upstairs, screaming in a messy mix of Spanish and English. It was now or never.
Dialing the one number she saved under Unknown, she prayed for a miracle.
Luckily her big sister picked up, and Tara blurted out that she needed help. For a moment, hope fluttered in her chest, hearing her big sister’s voice. Maybe, just maybe, this would work.
If only her mother didn’t hit her with that chair. She had no idea if Sam had heard her or if she was coming. All she knew was that she potentially dialed the last phone call she would ever make.
Once she felt her ribs crunch and her nose break, did she give into the darkness creeping behind her eyes. Maybe when she woke, this would all be over.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to wake up alive or dead. She just wanted the pain to stop. Whatever did that, she would take it mercifully.
——
The drive to Woodsboro took maybe an hour, hour and a half. Sam wasn’t ready to unpack why she only lived an hour away from her sister. She didn’t have time to blame herself when something was wrong.
Pulling into the lawn, she didn’t even bother to shut the car off. She threw her seatbelt off and tore across the property. Throwing open the door, she paused in the doorway, staring into the abyss.
It was strange. She wasn’t expecting everything to look the same. She would’ve thought that her absence would change everything. Yet the walls were empty of photographs, and the floor was still dirty from nights of sin.
The shrieks and yelling snapped her out of her trance, and Sam bolted up the stairs. The only light on upstairs was Tara's room, and that’s when she could hear the screaming.
“Sammy! Sammy, help! Help!” shrieked her baby sister above the noise of slapping and swearing.
Sam went to the room and saw her mother above her baby sister, hitting her with what looked like a trophy. Tara’s trophy. Second-grade spelling bee winner.
Her little sister was crumpled on the ground, with a bloody nose and a gash below her eye that stretched over her cheek. Tara looked dazed, her eyes unfocused and her hands shaking, trying to protect herself from the blows feebly.
Christina, on the other hand, looked about the same as the last time Sam had seen her. Long, dark stringy hair framed a gaunt face, eyes rimmed red, and a sneer so ugly that it made Sam cringe.
She sprung into action, tackling her mother against the wall. She pinned Christina there, one arm barred against her throat, the other wrestling the bloody trophy from her hand. Her mother’s eyes were wide in surprise, a snarl forming on her lips.
“So the prodigal daughter returns! ¡La hija de un asesino!” her mother sneered, choking a bit as Sam pressed harder against her throat.
(The murderer’s daughter!)
Sam finally got the trophy out, throwing it down on the ground. Tara whimpered from her crumpled state at the broken award, watching another childhood memory shatter. Sam didn’t fucking care. She had to end this.
Pressing her arm harder in the throat, she let her mother choke, her arms clawing at Sam’s to make her let go. But Sam wouldn’t budge. She grinned as her mother's eyes grew more panicked. She wanted to see the light die from her mother’s eyes; she wanted to feel the life leave her body. It would be the ending that she deserved.
But something nagged her to turn around and look at Tara. Look at her baby sister.
Giving in, Sam turned to look, ignoring the gasps of her mother. She looked down at her baby sister, taking in the little girl she had left before.
Tara looked up at her, her nose gushing blood, wheezing. Sam could make out a bruised ring appearing around Tara’s neck. A choke mark. She pressed harder into her mother’s throat, feeling the desperation set into her mother’s body.
Her baby sister just kept staring at Sam, her big brown eyes full of sadness, of tears that weren’t falling. Sam could feel shame prickle up her back, her face growing warm. Tara shook her head at Sam, silently pleading for her to let Christina go.
Even after all these years, Tara had some hypnotic grip on Sam. Her baby sister nodded at Sam, coughing a bit of blood up. Sam nodded back and let her mother crumpled to the floor, gasping.
In a heartbeat, Sam was on the floor, soothing her baby sister. She kissed Tara’s head and smoothed the hair out of her eyes. Tara cried in response, nails clinging onto Sam’s skin, sinking in. Sam let her hold on as she kept kissing her head and rocking her back and forth.
After a minute or two, Sam scooped Tara up, ignoring the whimpers of distress, silencing her. Tara cried out in pain but still curled into Sam’s embrace, her head tucked into her shoulder.
As Sam turned around to leave, she heard the raspy voice of her mother, forcing her to pause.
“Where are you going with her? She’s defective, you know. You’re not stupid, Sam- you’ve always been the stronger one,” she croaked out.
Sam shook her head, staring down at her mother. She didn’t succumb to the temptation to put Tara down and finish it for good. Instead, she stood ramrod straight, her eyes unforgiving, her hands unrelenting. Tara could sense the words about to come out, and she buried her face deeper into Sam’s chest.
“You never wanted either of us. I’m doing you a favor. I’m doing what I should’ve done in the first place,” she hissed back, staring daggers at her mother's broken body.
Tilting her head, Christina stared back in wonder. “And what would that be?”
“Leaving with Her. Just like I should’ve done,” Sam said.
Despite her mother’s pleas, and the broken bottles being thrown at the two, Sam marched on, cradling Tara tightly to her chest.
This was her redo. There would never be another one.
She wasn’t leaving without her girl this time around.
78 notes
·
View notes
I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.
It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.
He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.
He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself → He makes a plan → And then he reacts.
Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.
And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.
Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.
See Nightwing Annual (2021)
But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.
Was to seethe.
Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).
But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.
This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.
Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.
(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)
His reaction wasn't immediate.
His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.
But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this
From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.
But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.
Does that mean he planned that to happen?
That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.
You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.
Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"
When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.
(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)
Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.
6K notes
·
View notes