Loss in Five
'It was a dream,' was her first thought after waking up on a bed in the medical room, four hours after she'd felt the pain in her arm and then nothing but black.
She had probably fallen down the stairs and dreamt it all up.
This couldn't be happening.
Sam pulled herself up off the bed, grimacing at the pain in her arm from where the needle had pierced the skin.
She was going to walk out of this room, walk down the corridor in front of her and it would all just be one big joke.
A stupid, inconsiderate sick joke.
But that would be okay, because Danny would laugh at her and she could hold him, she could tell him what a bastard he was for scaring her like that.
She opened the door, unsurprised that there was a guard on it, but surprised at who the guard actually was.
Everything would be fine.
Then she saw Ruth's face.
---
"You had no right!" she screamed. Ruth flinched but Sam didn't care. If Ruth had cared about her at all she wouldn't have stuck a needle in her arm.
"Calm down Sam," Harry's voice was as calm and unemotional as always.
Sam hated him. "You're an unfeeling bastard," she told him. She was surprised how quickly her tone had changed. It scared her that she could do that.
"I know you're angry…" he began, but she wasn't going to let him finish. There was something building up inside her and she felt like if she didn't let it out she'd explode.
"Danny's dead and you're at work!"
"Unfortunately the work doesn't stop. No matter how much we need or want it to."
"He's dead and you're doing nothing."
"The people responsible for Danny's death are dead."
"Some people would say you're responsible."
Harry looked away from her, towards the shadow that was still watching silently. "Ruth, take her home."
Sam shook her head and moved towards him as he tried to turn away from her. "You can't just brush me away like Danny!"
He swivelled towards her and she started to move backwards. "Do you know what I have to do Sam? Do you really want to know?" Harry moved forward, his stance so intimidating she could almost feel her body shrinking before him. Then he stopped, inches away from her but miles away in spirit. "Just get out of here until you've got your head straight." He turned away from her then.
It felt almost like the loss of a father.
Sam stayed silent as she let Ruth lead her away.
She took a long look at her desk.
At what used to be Zoë's.
Then she paused at Danny's.
Somehow she knew she'd never be back.
---
"Will you be alright?"
Sam sniffed as the car stopped beside the pavement. She doubted she'd ever be all right again.
She thought about snapping back at her colleague, maybe even her friend, but she didn't. Ruth look so white that Sam was starting to wonder why there wasn't a pool of blood at her feet.
Sam made no move to leave the vehicle. "If you could go back and do things differently…"
Ruth interrupted. "I'd have been stronger with Harry. I'd have noticed there was something wrong earlier. I'd have called to check up on Fiona. I'd have told him goodbye before he left." Ruth look away and Sam stared at her.
They were both so tired. Ruth probably hadn't even slept whereas at least Sam had, even though it hadn't been her choice.
"I wish I could just go back to yesterday and tell him how much I miss him now," Sam breathed softly, closing her eyes and trying to see Danny smiling back at her. "Go home, Ruth. Even Harry has to let people sleep."
"What about you?"
"If you go home and sleep then so will I."
Ruth looked as if she was going to protest, her mouth open slightly but then she stopped herself and nodded in acceptance.
Sam smiled as she reached for the door, catching her reflection in the glass.
She looked awful.
Danny would have joked about it.
She barely made it inside before the tears started to fall.
---
Twenty-eight.
Twenty-eight years.
That was the only thing she could think about.
She hadn't even thought about going back to work.
She couldn't face a place that just moved on.
Everything there would remind her of Danny. Of why Danny himself was no longer there.
She'd been staring at the picture on her desk for over an hour, but she'd barely noticed the time go.
To Sam it was still the day her friend, her colleague, her maybe ex-boyfriend if they'd ever actually gone on that date, had died.
She was already starting to miss his smile. Starting to miss the way he said her name.
The four people in the photo smiled back at her, mocking her.
Finally, after two days of insomnia, Sam laid her head on her desk, the family portrait in her hand as she finally slept. She didn't have a picture of Danny. Or Zoë or even Tom.
But she had her family and that was suddenly more important than anything else.
---
"I'm not coming to the funeral." She could hear Ruth breathing but there was only silence on the other end of the line. "I just thought you should know, so you didn't wait for me or anything."
"I think you should come," Ruth told her simply. "Danny's gone and we need to grieve."
"I can't go there and pretend he died in an accident."
"We'll all be there for you. We know how close you were."
"I didn't love him," she said suddenly, needing to release it. "Maybe if we'd ever actually gone on a date… but we never did and now he's gone."
"It's grief," Ruth told her.
"I know that. But I can't."
Ruth's answer was reluctant, but accepting. "Well… I'll see you at work."
"You won't," Sam said quickly as she looked at the picture on her desk. At the smiling family that stared back at her. "I'm not coming back," she said down the phoneline, the relief at finally saying the words took a weight off her chest.
"We lose people and we move on," Ruth told her and Sam wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. It wasn't working anyway.
"I don't want to. When I die I want everyone to know how it was, no matter how boring or stupid. I want them to say what I actually did." Ruth was again silent. "Just tell Harry I'm sorry I let him down and I'll sign whatever he needs me to. But I'm not going back there."
"I… understand," Ruth said softly and Sam felt herself smile for the first time in days.
Understanding was everything. They both stayed silent then and Sam was sure she should feel something more tangible than the relief that was flowing through her now. But she didn't.
"Goodbye Ruth. Be happy." She said simply.
That afternoon, sitting alone in her small flat, Sam felt the vibrations of the bomb. She hated herself for knowing almost immediately what it was.
When her phone rang she ignored it.
She was going to have a real life.
---