I don't understand why people try to portray Sam as vulnerable or needy, I for one seem to have fallen into that trap more than once. But from what I've seen of her on Casualty she seems to be able to take care of herself, okay she does have a vulnerable side, but I think we need more fanfiction which portrays Sam the Soldier.
Her flat was clean and brightly lit. Sam smiled at herself, clean, more like empty. But it wasn't really empty if you looked closely enough. A poorly hand sewn cushion, the result of an attempt by her mother to make her daughter more feminine, sat on the corner of the sofa. It's yellow fabric was fading. There was a photograph of Sam and her parents on her bookshelves, next the thesaurus, a dictionary and a battered copy of War and Peace. Sam pulled the book of the shelf. "Dearest Sam, we'll miss you. Please come home safety. Mum and Dad." Down a shelf were all of her medical text books. Tucked into the "Cardiac Trauma for Emergency Responders" slipped in between alternate pages in the chapter on arrhythmias were a selection of wedding photos and letters. Sam picked the book up and shook them out. She piled up the wedding photos and selected her favourite. Dervla had jumped up at her just as the shot was taken. The combined look of surprise on both of their faces was hilarious and Sam couldn't help but smile every time she looked at it. It was kind of funny really, their whole marriage could be summed up in a couple of photographs, a bunch of unsent letters and a medical textbook. Sam laughed, it was so ridiculously typical of Dylan to write her letters, and then never send them. And it was so typical for him to hide them in her cardiology textbook. She had collected her stuff from his flat in the country in a break between her second and third tour of Afghanistan. It had been over between them for a long time and she wanted to move on. She needed to move on. She only found them when she was looking for a place to hide the photos she had of them together, it was getting annoying having to explain their presence to every boyfriend she bought home. She had wondered at first why had specifically chosen that chapter, Dylan was too precise for it to be a happy accident, and then she remembered the first case they had taken together.
.
.
It was Sam's first day as a F2, she had met with the senior consultant and he was just explaining that he would be handing over the majority of her training to one of their experienced registrars, Dr Keogh. Sam hadn't been paying much attention though. She was distracted by the antics of a doctor and a patient in the opposite cubicle. A middle age woman was insisting that she was about to die, and the doctor was insisting that she sat back down, describing in detail the consequences that panicking would have on her heart. The detail was medically accurate but did little to reassure her and the woman promptly fainted. Sam snickered as the man rolled his eyes and passed the woman to the nearest nurse, who seemed to be slightly aggrieved that the doctor struggled to remember her name. The consultant scowled at her. "Dr Nicholls, is your attention elsewhere?"
Sam blinked. "Of course not. Um..."
The consultant turned and called the doctor she had been watching over. Dylan reluctantly placed his coffee on the side. "I told you I don't do babysitting."
The consultant hissed. "You're the only doctor in the department without one Dylan, now be nice." With a sympathetic smile in Sam''s direction, the consultant left them to it. Dylan looked at her for half a second before picking his coffee back up. Sam scowled. She hadn't slaved through 6 years of medical school to be ignored. "I don't need babysitting. I just need a patient."
Dylan shrugged lazily. "Cubicle 4. Woman with arrhythmia. Convince her she's not going to die, diagnose and report back to me. I'm busy drinking coffee."
Sam raised her eyebrows, this was going to be fun.
.
.
She had diagnosed the woman in record time and impressed Dr Keogh enough for him to allow her to call him by his first name. Sam unfolded the first letter. There were 5 and she knew them all off by heart.
"Dearest Samantha. I miss you. The flat is empty, well not empty, but you get my drift. I- unintelligible crossed out mess I've been busy, work, more work, I actually quite like work it's a good more unintelligible crossed out mess. Dervla's doing fine, we had a bit of an accident last week- my fault entirely- I forgot to leave the dog-flap open, but other than that all is content in the Keogh household. Apart from the fact that you aren't there. Here. I hope you're safe, I really hope you're safe. And I'm sorry. See look I said it. I, Dylan Keogh, am extremely sorry for any pain that I may have caused you. I wish I could take back what I said. But I can't. Can you come home now? All my love, Dylan. XXX"
Sam brushed her fingers across the kisses and his love, then stopped herself. She folded away the letters and the photos and tucked them back in their designated pages, scolding herself for being sentimental. She stood up and picked up her battered standard issue rucksack and bicycle helmet, today was her first day at her placement at Holby City's Emergency department.