When I had come to I had been in an ambulance. At first I had freaked out because I hadn't known what was going on. We ended up at the hospital and Shawn was called. All I could think was that this could've been prevented. Shawn would blame himself. I would blame myself. God, leave it to me to ruin Thanksgiving.

Luckily there hadn't been major damage to me or my car. I got away with only a concussion and my car got away with a few dents and scratches that could be buffed out and painted over.

I was currently sitting in my hospital room while Shawn stood outside with the doctor, most likely about the treatment of my concussion. I hoped they would give me painkillers because this headache was killing me.

That's when Megan barged through the door. She looked so distraught. She was soaked from the downpour. Her hair was matted to her face and her clothes were dark.

How had she known? Had Shawn called her? I remembered getting the text from her in my car before I had wrecked. I had read it only a moment ago. It had said, Happy Thanksgiving.

When she saw me a look of relief flooded her expression. For a moment neither one of us spoke, until I decided to initiate.

"Happy Thanksgiving?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of my hospital bed. Oh God, was she still ignoring me?

"Sam what the hell were you doing on the road?"

It felt nice to hear her voice after a long day of nothing but negativity. It made me feel warm, even if it was only for a moment.

"You don't wanna know," I answered. Honestly, I just didn't want to talk about it.

She studied me for a moment without words. I figured we were back to her ignoring me now that she knew I was okay. Thinking that made my heart ache even worse. I knew she could see that.

Then she turned towards me. "You went with Shawn didn't you?"

"Yeah," I replied, looking down at the ground. "I did."

"It was bad?"

I laughed. "Well it wasn't good."

"Sam..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

She fell silent, and I knew I should be more than happy to spill, but she had ignored me for so long. She hadn't even told me she had found an apartment and that she was leaving. And I know we weren't on good terms and that I should be happy she was moving out. Yet, deep down I wasn't. As much as I wanted to hate her, I just couldn't.

"Shawn told me you were moving out," I stated.

She nodded. "I can start moving my stuff in December first."

"He thinks it's sudden."

"It's time."

"How will you pay your bills with everything else?"

She released a deep breath. "I'll figure it out."

I knew it was my fault she was moving. After what I had said to her that day in class I knew there was no taking it back. But I didn't want her to go if she couldn't afford it. I didn't want her to go because I still wanted her around. For some reason I knew it wouldn't be the same when she left.

"Then don't go," I said.

What a stupid thing to say, I thought, scolding myself.

"I've already signed the lease. And you know this needs to happen."

She was right. But I wasn't the one to push her away first. She had been the one to start ignoring me and enforcing boundaries that should've been set a long time ago. But she didn't, and we had gotten close and grown a relationship. I didn't regret that until she had blindsided me the other day by claiming we could no longer continue what we were doing. I had felt betrayed. I still did. But having her around in silence was better than not having her around at all.

I can't believe I just thought that.

Shawn rejoined us and claimed we could leave. All three of us went home for the night and I wasn't looking forward to sleeping. With the concussion I knew drinking was a bad idea, and rest would be the best thing for me since the injury wasn't major. But I just had a feeling the nightmares would be there waiting in the shadows of my mind.

We got home and Shawn disappeared into his room after making sure I would be okay for the night. For some reason I couldn't coax myself into my bed, and apparently neither could Megan.

She sat at our island with a glass of wine. I couldn't help but feel like she was watching me or something.

Maybe making sure I wouldn't drink? After all, she had discovered the bottle of Jack in my room over a week ago and hadn't said a thing about it to me or Shawn.

"You're not tired?" I asked.

She swirled her wine and shook her head. "I'm exhausted. I just know I won't be able to sleep right now."

I stayed on the couch for another thirty minutes. She lingered at the counter the entire time. My assumptions were proven right when I finally escaped to my room and I heard her cleaning up in the kitchen.

Before she went upstairs she stuck her head into my room. "Are you gonna be alright?"

Her eyes darted around my room. Suddenly I felt like I was being babysat.

"Megan, I'm not gonna drink."

The look on her face pled guilty.

She leaned on the doorframe. "Where'd you put the rest of it?"

"The rest of what?"

"The alcohol, Sam. Don't play stupid."

I nodded towards my closet.

She walked into my room and opened it up, found the bottle and grabbed it. I watched in disbelief as she walked right back to the door.

She turned back towards me. "Not that I don't trust your word. I'm just taking precautions."

Then she was gone.

* * *

The next day Shawn went to work, which left Megan and I alone. She mostly packed while I hung out in my room and rested.

Thank God the doctor had prescribed me pain killers. Not only did they dim the pain significantly, but they put me to sleep without the bad dreams. I was convinced I hadn't slept that great in years.

It was around one-thirty when Megan knocked on my door, entering with a plate of food. She had ordered pizza. Pepperoni and pineapple, my favorite.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

I took the plate and drink. "Better. It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

She smiled momentarily before letting it disappear. "Sam I'm sorry."

Where had that even come from? And what was she talking about?

"For what exactly?"

"For ignoring you. Telling you we couldn't have a personal relationship, after we had already formed one..." She paused. "I just..."

I waited for her to continue but realized she wasn't going to. I accepted what I could get.

"I'm sorry too. For blowing up and all that..." I responded.

She shook her head. "I'm the one that made you feel comfortable. I talked to you like a friend. It's my fault and I just feel bad."

I didn't understand why she was dwelling on it so much. "Megan, it's not a big deal."

"It is. I know you're not the kind of person to open up to really anyone, but you opened up to me. I shouldn't have let you in the first place, but I did. And going back on that was wrong."

I found myself smiling. "Okay, but in your defense you live with me. You see things others don't."

She just nodded and mumbled a quiet "yeah".

"What changed?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You went from icing me out to ordering pizza for me," I joked. "So what changed?"

She took a deep breath. "When Shawn called me and said you were in the hospital I..." She took a moment. "I thought the most horrible things, Sam."

"Like?"

"I just thought I had lost you."

Wow. At this I had no idea what to say. I guess I shouldn't be shocked but I was. It was one thing for Megan to admit to herself she cared about me, but admitting she cared to me... Well it was surprising.

"I know I have no right to ask, but why was there an opened bottle of Jack besides your bed."

I knew it would be brought up eventually. In all actuality it had probably killed Megan not to ask sooner. And she was right. She had no right to ask after ignoring and pushing me away.

"You don't have the right to ask," I answered.

She didn't say anything. She didn't even look like she wanted to say anything, which was a first.

I took a deep breath. I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone until I did tell her. But what would she think? I haven't even told Blair what I was doing and she was my best friend!

"If I go to bed really drunk, I don't have nightmares," I confessed.

That's when the context of this situation hit me. Here I was, in bed with Megan sitting cross-legged at the edge staring at me. Like we were friends instead of teacher and student. She was in pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Her hair a mess. Is this what she was so afraid of?

Something about the situation made me feel loved, even after everything recently. She was here talking to me without judgement looking vulnerable and suddenly I just wanted her more than anything. Of course I ignored that and blamed it on the fact that she had iced me out for weeks.

"You can't keep doing this," she mumbled.

"There's nothing else that keeps them away."

Megan just continued to watch me in silence. I wanted nothing more than to know what she was thinking, but I was too afraid to ask. Did she think bad of me? Did she think I was going about this the wrong way? Was she going to tell Shawn?

"Please get help, Sam."

I shook my head. "I don't need help-"

"Not for you," she interrupted.

"Then for who?" I asked.

"Get help for Shawn... Blair..." she paused. "And for me."

I could see the worry in her eyes. What was she so worried about? Did she really care that much about me? And if she did why had it taken her so long to say something?

"That doesn't make sense."

Her eyes locked with mine. For a moment everything was silent. "Sam, you have people that care about you and would literally do anything to help. All you have to do is ask."

Suddenly it hit me. She was worried because she cared a lot. And maybe I reminded her a little bit of someone she used to know, and I hated to think about that.

"This is about Lacey, isn't it?" My voice shook at the mentioning of her sister. I anticipated a negative reaction.

She released a sad smile. "Knowing what I know now... If anything happened to you, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."

I leaned forward. "Megan, I'd never do that."

Where had that come from? And how on earth had the conversation ended up here of all places?

"I never thought Lacey would do it either. No one did." She looked away from me and stood. "You should keep resting."

I allowed her to leave without another word and reflected on the conversation that had just taken place. Maybe she was right. Alcoholism seemed to be a disease that ran in the family. Dad almost drank himself to death on a few occasions when I still lived at home. He had learned his habits from his father. Was I doing the same?

Thinking this much made my head start hurting, so I decided to take a few painkillers and sleep it off. For all I knew the dreams could stop tomorrow and my life would return to normal.

But after the talk with Megan I had a feeling that wasn't the case.