Disclaimer: No own.

A/N: Okay this chapter was completely unplanned. (If I had planned it, I would have said so and wouldn't have put 'complete' for the last chapter. So don't get mad or anything. I did originally keep that ending because I wanted you to think about whether or not they would stay together. That was my goal. But then Sam was like 'Let's share what happened later' all happy-like, so I said sure.

I want to thank everyone who read this story and reviewed or alerted or favorited. You guys are amazing and I love hearing from you guys.

So, I give you, for real, the ending. The absolute ending of this story and I promise there is no more.

Chapter 17

Melanie, Benson, and Burch sit on the couch, watching me with disappointment in their eyes. I sink further into the recliner, not wanting to hear them lecture me about what I did was wrong, but knowing Mel and Freddork, that's what's going to happen any minute now. Burch gets it, why I did it, I know she does. That's why she isn't angry about this, or confused, or anything like the other two are. And what's worse is they've known me the longest and about how violent I can be, and they have to know that I did it for Carly. But then again, Carly isn't talking to me. It's been a fucking week, and she hasn't looked at me since she called Benson to pick us up.

The room is so quiet I can hear the clock ticking, pounding in my ears so loud it's deafening, and I look away from my prosecutors, wishing they would just yell at me or something. That's what I deserve, isn't it? I think the worst part about this, aside from Carly ignoring me, is the fact that they only have her side of the story. Unless they figured it out, they don't know the why. And it's really not fair for them to judge me based on Carly's perspective of the fight. Is it? You know what? I already know I fucked up. I just wish they would hurry up and fucking say so.

I stare at her, hurt when she pulls away from me, and she sighs. "Yeah, Sam, we've been through worse, but this is different. We're not just friends, or at least I thought we weren't." I nod. "I'm going to call Freddie, tell him where to pick us up." She walks away from me with her cell phone and I watch as she paces, telling Benson in fast forward where we are and to come pick us up. She won't look at me, won't say anything, and I don't blame her. I messed up and I deserve to be ignored by her. Hell, I wouldn't blame her if she never wants to speak to me again. Benson's car parks at the end of the alley and we slide into the backseat before he could even get out and open the door for us. He looks in the rearview mirror at us and I shake my head at him.

He sighs and drives toward Bushwell, parking in the front. I feel even worse, knowing that we interrupted the movie for him to come drive us home, and when Carly kisses my cheek and climbs out of the car, I lean back in the seat and my eyes meet Benson's. "I'm sorry for ruining your night, Freddie. Go and enjoy the rest of it. I can walk home." Just as I reach for the door handle he locks the door and shakes his head, pulling out onto the road in the direction of my apartment building. I thank him and slip out of the car, dragging myself through the lobby to the stairs. I don't care about the walk, and it's better than sulking in the elevator.

Benson crosses his arms and clears his throat. I guess I zoned out or something. They've been trying to get me to talk for the better part of the week, but I always managed to get out of the apartment to avoid this. "Why would you do something so reckless?" Mel asks. "You were in the middle of a crowded mall. People saw what you did. And it took a lot of shit for me to prove that I wasn't the one who beat the hell out of that guy. But now I'm never allowed to go into the mall either. Neither is Carly. You seriously fucked up, Sam. You could have just ignored him and continued your date with Carly. God, you were doing so well. It took everything to convince the cops that we would keep you out of trouble and for them not to come after you and throw your ass in jail again." Just for the record, I've never heard Mel curse so much. She's beyond furious.

"It took three days for Carly to finally tell us what happened," Benson tells me. "She didn't want to talk to anyone, and Spencer even says she's locked herself in her room. She doesn't know what to do now, Sam. She tried for you. She knew that you're violent, but she wanted to believe you changed after being in prison. You've been living in guilt because of what happened, and we thought that would have changed you." He sighs. "How could you just…"

I cut him off. "First off, Benson, you only have Carly's side. Yeah, you ask why I did it, but you don't even give me a chance to explain. Do you want to know why I did it? Bigots like that deserve to have their asses kicked if they can't keep their mouths shut. Everything was going fine with Carly, and honestly I didn't want to fight the bastard. I have reflexes, Benson. I've already told you why I do shit." I shake my head. "None of it even fucking matters anymore, right? Carly can't even look at me and she's ignored all of my phone calls. So I'm sorry if I don't need you to tell me I fucked up because I already know."

I stand and walk into my room, slamming my door behind me. I need to talk to Carly, one way or another. I climb out the window and maneuver to the ground, dropping into a run toward Bushwell Plaza. Taking the stairs because they were faster, I reach the eighth floor and head down the hallway to 8C. Knocking on the door, I try to catch my breath and look up at Spencer when he opens the door. "Sam…what's up with Carly?" he asks. She hasn't told him.

"Let me in and if anyone asks, I'm not here. I need to talk to her." He nods and steps aside. I pass him into the apartment and climb the stairs. Carly's bedroom door is closed and I don't want to barge in at the chance that she'll hate me even more. I sigh and tap my knuckles against the door. "Carly, it's me. Please open the door." There's a thud against the door and I'm sure she just threw something at it to get me to go away. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to talk to you." I rest my forehead against the door and hear the lock. The door moves away from me and I'm staring at a strange Carly. "I'm sorry, Carly. I should have ignored that asshole. But I couldn't. I hate when people disrespect you and I know I fucked up."

Carly shakes her head and crosses her arms, her eyes meeting mine for the first time in a week. She opens her mouth to speak and closes it again, as if she can't find words to say. I nod, knowing she's heard enough and she isn't going to say anything, and turn away from her. Her fingers snap around my wrist and before I can react, she has me against the wall, her lips on mine and her body pressed against mine. She has my wrists pinned to the wall so I can't move, and I don't think I could even if I wanted to. After a few moments she finally pulls away and rests her forehead against mine. "I'm sorry." I raise my brow and she sighs. "If I hadn't asked you to go on a date with me, we never would have had to deal with an asshole bigot. And you wouldn't have gotten into a fight defending my honor, or whatever the hell you want to call it. I realize why you did it, and I think I may have overreacted."

I shake my head. "No, Carls, I shouldn't have done it. It's my fault. It's always my fault, believe me." She shakes her head slowly and I sigh. "Alright, I won't say it's my fault. But it's not yours either. It's that bastard who fucked this up. If it wasn't for him, we would have had fun on our date…and…" I trail off because of the footsteps coming up the stairs. I push Carly a little and she lets go of me, stepping back, and we both look at Spencer.

"Oh hey, you brought Carly out. Did you guys make-up yet?" he asks. Carly nods and I raise a brow at her. Did we just make-up? He grins and hugs both of us. "That's good because I can't stand to see the two of you unhappy and not together." I stare at him. "Oh come on, Sam, it was kind of obvious last week when you came to pick up Carly. I knew you guys were going on a date." I look at Carly, who blushes. Spencer smirks. "You didn't think I knew, did you? Guess I should have waited until you told me…" He rubs the back of his neck. Anyway, I just came up here to tell you that I'm going to run to the store. Do you guys need anything?"

We shake our heads and watch him walk away. I turn to Carly. "Did you know?" She shakes her head and smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling me into her room, kicking the door shut behind us. "Oh by the way, if Benson or Melanie calls, I'm not here," I tell her and she raises her brow. "I told them why I did it, locked myself in my room, and snuck out." She nods and smirks, pushing me down on her bed. "Don't you think this is a little soon?" I tease and she rolls her eyes, sitting next to me.

"You're still the same old Sam," she mutters under her breath and I poke her side, causing her to jump and glare at me. I grin and shift, snuggling up in her pillows. Sometimes I forget her bed is so much more comfortable than mine. She grabs the TV remote from her bedside table and hands it to me before lying down next to me, her head on my chest and an arm around my waist. I play with her hair and turn on Girly Cow. "This show is still on?" she asks. I guess she hasn't watched it in a while. I nod and try to focus on the show. Carly doesn't make it easy. "Can I ask you something, Sam?" She tilts her head back to look at me and I kiss her with a smile. "The tattoo on your back…" I frown, "why does it say that?"

I shrug. "It's a Scottish proverb. When I was in prison, Sloan and I would talk about anything and everything. When I told her about why I was there and about my guilt and how everything was my fault, she told me that saying. And I guess the words just stayed with me. So after a while, I had someone tattoo it to my back." She nods and kisses me before turning back to the show. My phone rings and I roll my eyes when I notice Mel's calling. I don't want to talk to her. Carly's phone rings and she just mutes it, snuggling closer to me. "Who's calling you?" I ask.

"Freddie," she mutters. My phone rings again and I look at the caller ID again, ignoring it. She grins up at me and I kiss her nose. "We'll be okay, won't we?" she asks. I nod and return to the show. This is nice, just the two of us lying here, disregarding our cell phones. Her hand found mine and she traced over my scabbed knuckles. When I'd hit the guy at the mall, it had busted my knuckles again and then this week I was pissed off at myself and punched a wall. I really need to work on my anger issues… "Sam, I don't think I could have a better girlfriend, to be honest. Sure, you're violent at times, even in defending what you believe, but you're always going to be my best friend, no matter what."

I grin and kiss her. And whatever comes at us, whatever hits we have to take, I'm never leaving this girl. I've learned that confessed faults are half-mended. The other half mends in time, through forgiveness and I've been forgiven by those I've hurt. Of course, that's not saying that I'm going to be perfect. Better to make mistakes than be flawless, right? I'll just try not to say things are my fault anymore.

A/N: So how's that? Yeah, they stayed together. No wonder Sam was happy, right? By the way, the phrase that was tattooed onto Sam's back is 'Confessed faults are half-mended.' As she mentioned. It's a Scottish Proverb and I felt it fit this story perfectly. Hopefully this unexpectant chapter didn't piss you off or anything. :D