Author: Midnight Blue
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Without a Trace is the sole property of Hank Steinberg, Bruckheimer, and CBS
Summary: Don't say things you'll regret, Jack
A/N: I wasn't sure I wanted to post this, so thanks to D for reading it a few weeks ago and prompting me to put it up. This is just a little AU conversation during FO I pretended, for the sake of my story, J/S had after he spoke with her in Sydney's office. Enjoy!
*
He started thinking about her, had started doing this more frequently in the last week because of what he'd done; because of the weight of his sins, because he missed her most when he knew he shouldn't. For all the pain he -- well, they together, but mostly he -- had caused, if he focused just on Samantha, just on her smile, hair, the way the light hit her eyes, the way her voice sounded at all moments in her life -- if he focused on just those things, he had something pure and beautiful.
And in that moment, he felt lucky to know someone so hard to say goodbye to.
So he was thinking about her just as she chose to walk in.
"Send me in, Jack."
His already still form tensed as she dropped the words in his lap.
"Samantha --"
"Look, Danny and Viv are tied up with finding Sydney, and Martin -- Jack, you're not thinking of sending him in, are you?"
He hesitated, aware of the line he was preparing to cross yet again.
"We don't know how dangerous this guy is, Samantha."
"Which is why it should be me, Jack."
No, which is why it shouldn't, he wanted to say.
But he caught the resolve in her eyes, the obstinance in her stance and knew he would have to let her do this, let her go. Something kept screaming at him to remember the exact way she looked right now because -- because she wouldn't be the same when he saw her again.
"All right, Sam, " he spoke, trying to mask the worry he felt, trying to convince himself this would be fine and he could find a way to make this work -- find a way to keep her tucked away and love her from a distance.
She dropped her arms and turned to leave, then stopped.
"Jack, I..."
She trailed off because nothing she could say seemed to make sense anymore.
His eyes went to the floor as he shuffled some papers on his desk.
"We're meeting Martin and Libby at the revivial movie house in fifteen minutes, so --"
"Yeah, I'll wait for you in the car."
He had to say something more, so she wouldn't leave thinking he had stopped caring.
"Sam, " he spoke, his voice low and husky with emotion, "I wanted to send Martin in because he wasn't you."
She wanted to be his again, inside of that phrase, that warm comfort as he spoke to her like he once had.
"Don't say things you'll regret, Jack, please, " she said above a whisper and left, not wanting to hear his reply.
Don't go places you aren't prepared to walk away from -- don't take people you can't leave behind.
But...take me with you, she thought, and I'll never look back.
He watched her leave him, his heart stinging with her broken statement and his own quiet betrayal only a week before. He had hurt her again, seemed he always did, and he couldn't figure out how to do anything right. He would never forget her face when he broke her on that bench, never forget the feel of her skin as it flushed with a silent love and grew cold with sadness as he pulled back and pushed her away.
He gathered up his things and touched his heart, thinking of what she'd said.
Don't say things you'll regret, Jack...
"I already have, " he spoke to the silence.
And he lost himself along the way.
FIN