Road To Recovery

By

TraceAce

Disclaimer: I only own Sam in this story and the fictional story of her life. All the other people depicted are copyrighted to the nice people at WWE HQ. Damn, and I wanted my own RVD. _

A/N: Si. This is the sequel to the sequel of To Tame The Wild Beast. So…yeah. It's the third part in this Sam-filled series. Fun stuff abound. If you can't tell by the first sentence, this little ditty starts a whole 365 days from the ending of Secrets and Lies.  And, if you couldn't tell from the last story, Sam is a little more crazier then the last two stories. Hallucinating crazy. But you love Sam, so continue. XD

- Chapter 1 -

"Hollow"

"I'll never feel again…

Then I won't have to feel this pain I'm in."

~ "Hollow" – Face To Face

                A year in Samatha Wesley's life had come and gone.

                It was marked on her calendar – which was an old, dirty looking one she found in the trash. While she wasn't dirt poor, she didn't like wasting money. She didn't have enough to waste. She didn't get PAID enough to waste. She had found a semi-decent apartment though, with running water and heat…

                As small as it was, it was her home.

                She had gotten up and saw the circle and remembered its significance. One year. One year ago she lost her life when Raven lost his.

                She lost her sanity. Her sanity hadn't been with her for even a moment after he was gone. She was almost thankful of it though…for many reasons. It made her forget about the reason behind the craziness. She could function, at least, then.

                And also…

                "If you know I'm a hallucination, why do you keep seeing me?"

                Raven was always around. She knew it had to be her mind playing tricks, but even with the knowledge she couldn't control it, well, at least for a long time. He came and gone, really. She really didn't want to find a way to get rid of him, regardless. She just knew not to talk to him in public and…well, at least he was some form of company. She really didn't have too many friends. More like none.

                "…Because I want too, I guess." She answered the figment honestly. He frowned, seeming saddened at the words.

                "This is bad for you. You shouldn't have to go through this." He spoke slowly.

                She looked up at 'him', his form seeming so damn real. She knew if she tried to touch him it'd just be air, so she didn't bother. "…Great, now even the voices in my head think I'm nuts."

                She glanced around her apartment. The sun was shining in through the one window in her living room and kitchen area, where she sat. One big couch and a smaller TV was the living room part, the kitchen was semi-filled with obvious fake silver spoons and knives and utensils dotted the area. The fridge itself was old and beaten, but it worked so she used it. Her bedroom was just as old looking, with the same blue-tinted wall colorings as the area she sat in, but the bed was the one really new thing and it stuck out like a sore thumb. The frame was old; the bed itself was not. She bought it because of hearing stories of disgusting stuff in used beds. Her room had a large lamp that actually worked quite well, well enough for her to buy a second one for the living room. They were pretty cheap. The bathroom was small but it had all the needed components.

                Basically, she couldn't complain. Her living area was not horrid. Quite clean, actually. She worked hard on making it look presentable. Not that anyone visited. Well, except Raven, but for obvious reasons he didn't count.

                "I'm not a voice, Sam. You can actually see me." He sat next to her, patting her leg with his hand. She didn't feel it, of course.

                "Same thing." She shrugged mildly. "And every tell you tell me this shouldn't be, and every day I tell you it's okay because my life is fucked up anyway. Who gives a damn? I sure don't. It's not as if I have anybody to care about finding out I'm crazy. So I'm quite content with you, thank you very much."

                Raven sighed. "…I suppose so. But one day you're going to have to let me go or someone might call the guys in the white coats on you. I highly doubt you'd want to be in a loony bin."

                "No one will find out. You know how careful I am." She dismissed. "Geez, you're worse then the real guy, now that I think about it."

                "He was just the same and you know it." He rolled his eyes.

                "…Yeah." She sighed, agreeing. "Y'know what today is, right?"

                "First year anniversary of the death. I know."

                "I guess that's why I can see you so clearly today. Some days you kind of look lighter. But today…ha, man, the workings of the brain…it's kind of amazing."

                "Hm. Aren't you hungry?" He prodded.

                She sighed, standing up, walking herself to the bathroom. She bended down to was her face, and when she stood up she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She understood why her subconscious was telling her to eat. After all, her once healthy form had become skin thin, just above malnourishment because she knew enough of when she –should- be hungry. Besides her skinny frame, there were other differences. The bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, her hair spiked up – there was a reason for that that she was well aware of. The remnants of her hair, in fact, were still in the wastebasket next to the sink. She had gotten very upset one night and took it out on her hair, cutting a whole clump with scissors. It wasn't so bad down, a little lopsided, but she figured with the shorter hair she'd be nice and set up for the kind of hairstyle. It was all black too – the most normal color in recent years – and that was done a little more before – a month, perhaps. She knew she should eat, as was pointed out to her. But today made her feel like she had to just sit in bed and hide until it was over.

                "You still got some food left."

                "Yeah, I know. I'm not hungry."

                "When are you ever?"

                He had a point, of course, but she didn't want to deal with it.

                "It's too hard to function today. Anything I'll eat will probably come right up. And work? Ha. That's a joke. Not going there at all today. Won't leave even this room, I suspect." She moved out of the room to see him sitting again, watching her.

                "Well, whatever you want to do. I can't make you, as you can see."

                "And another thing, I'm well aware that I shouldn't be talking to thin air. You don't have to be all bitchy about it." She continued, irritated.

                "I'm just saying wouldn't it be…more…intelligent…if instead of turning to me, a mist of a memory you have…you turn to your old friends?" He gestured toward a cabinet. She knew what was inside, and even though she didn't want to be reminded, she still walked over and opened it up to find a dusty picture inside. It was still there when she stuffed it in a couple months ago. Brushing the dust off, she almost smiled at the memory. In the picture, it depicted the old group. The picture was taken before everything happened – before Rob and she broke up. Her and Kurt and Chris and Rob and Raven…laughing, having considerable fun. She remembered the exact moment in the picture too, with Chris and Kurt glaring at each other because of one of their many fights, and Raven just watching them with quiet amusement – he never did like admitting he liked hanging around with everyone – and she and Rob, in one of their rare moments, sat to one side and cuddled next to each other. It was the first time in a while she could really be seen outside with him since she left the Alliance. She remembered Lita snapping the picture and all of them just looking at her and her flash of light in shock. She gave each of them a copy, in the end.

                She definitely missed it all. However, instead of being semi-enlightened by the memory, she quietly put the picture back in and shut it tight.

                "That Sam is dead." She explained, almost sounding sad. "She died a year ago."

                "It's obvious she didn't die because I'm here telling you to go back. Something inside you – the thing that's making me be seen – wants you to go back. You're just too stubborn…"

                "I wish I was stubborn." She said, turning to him angrily. "…The hell do you know, anyway? Just leave."

                Before her eyes the form disappeared and she sunk to the ground, tears streaming down her face. Not even she herself could understand her thinking. She couldn't go back. She couldn't put anyone in danger because of her again. She just couldn't take any more losses.

                It was shaping up to be a fun day, indeed.

~~

                Rob really wasn't in too great of a mood to begin with, but a sudden appearance of Kurt Angle at his door dampened it even more. Not that he hated Kurt – he really didn't, but the mere presence of him reminded him of what day it was. And how could he forget it? The day his friend died…the day Sam left…and the situation seemed to be hitting Kurt hard too, if he was coming around Rob's parts to talk. He moved aside and let him in, not really saying much to him.

                Sam. He didn't even know if she was alive anymore. The way she was the last night they spoke…anything could have happened. Everyone just presumed her dead except he and Kurt. Everyone. Including Chris Jericho, who didn't seem to care less. Rob wanted to kill him for more then that reason, though. Ever since she had died, he changed massively. He never talked to them. He became a complete asshole to everyone – oh, and yeah, he was also sucking up to Vince and getting his way because of it. He was making everyone's life a living hell, actually.

                And Rob…he had been living in a big pile of guilt for an entire year, and he was doubting he was ever going to be getting out of it.  Rob failed twice in that time frame – first was finding Raven earlier, and second was not stopping Sam. It was because of him two people were lost. People said otherwise, but he couldn't shake the thought off. It actually made him kind of reserved and quiet, and definitely less friendly. But the most major change was in Kurt.

                Kurt, who had forever pretended he found his cousin a bother, seemed semi-puffy-eyed. Rob knew he probably just didn't want to be alone with this sort of day. Over the year, it came to the light that Kurt loved his cousin more then anything, like a sister even, and the loss of her had been quite devastating to deal with. Obviously today he was just a little more depressed then usual, of course, and Rob shared that sentiment enough to know he could at least comfort –someone else- if he couldn't comfort himself.

                "They were asking about her today. I couldn't deal with it." He sat on the less messy of the beds, the one he hadn't used. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

                "It's alright, dude." He said, trying to sound comforting. "Know the feeling exactly. It's hard to believe it's been a year though."

                "I keep hoping that she'd just magically show up because it's been this long, you know? Not even today, but every day. It's driving me frickin' crazy, to be honest. I can't shake the feeling that she's gone."

                "Maybe she isn't. Who knows? I keep hoping the same thing." He agreed, sitting next to him. "It's been a hard year, hasn't it? For both of us."

                "Tell me about it." Angle sighed. "Unlike someone we know…"

                Now, Angle never usually got really angry at someone because of this subject…he didn't mind people asking questions…but with Jericho, well, he considered that man unforgivable. Angle just couldn't comprehend how he just completely turned his back on them and voiced it often – not to mention the time when he told both of them right to their faces that she was gone and he didn't care. While Rob still had hope that perhaps he was just saying that as a way to not think about it, but Angle…

                "Asshole's just walking around running his mouth. Talk about a nice friend. Never did like him…"

                The WWE had changed, obviously. Rob was in it, and so were a lot of the wrestlers from the Alliance. Chris was trying to be in charge of everyone because of the power he was getting. When it didn't work, he'd find another way to get to it. It was basically a crappy situation, but it was never as bad as the year before, regardless. Rob just tried to ignore it all and just put all his focus in his work. It kept his mind off things.

                "I miss her, Rob." Kurt spoke, sighing a little sadly. "I really do."

                And Rob, looking down, obviously shared the same thought. "…So do I, man. So do I."