Author's Notes: This story was written for Silverwolf online and was edited and expanded. For future reference any story of mine that was written for her, is unapologetically Skewed. I label my writing and don't care to get flamed or hear complaints about the pairing. For my readers who follow my long stories, I have updates of Portrait and Ravishment that should be up in the next day or so. And personal note, welcome back to Silverwolf ;)
Grave Mistake
Samantha placed items from the top of her desk into a box. Yesterday she'd given Bailey her resignation and today she was packing her possessions up. Rachel could handle the profiling, Samantha was done. Standing in the office, she stared at Jack's board and tears formed in her eyes. When she'd been with him, she'd been so tempted and now he was gone. She felt numb and hollow like part of her died with Jack.
Grace knocked on Samantha's door and said softly, "I heard you were leaving."
Turning around, her eyes swam with tears and Samantha nodded, "Yes."
"But Sam, why?"
"Because-" Samantha trailed off.
Because, she thought, there was nothing left to stay for. Nothing to look forward to or any reason to get up. Jack was gone and she couldn't live with herself. Every second seemed to hurt more than the last. Funny, bullets were so small, but less than one square inch of lead destroyed her very soul.
"There's nothing left here for me," Samantha shrugged and wiped her tears away. Giving Grace a hug she said, "I'll call you sometime, but right now I need a little time alone. Would you mind giving me a few minutes to myself and close the door?"
Once the door closed, Samantha closed the blinds and dumped the meaningless contents of her box out. Opening the evidence boxes from the Trades case she selected several items. The case would be studied and curiosity seekers would pluck away at all that remained of her brilliant nemesis and-
Lover. Yes, she decided, Jack had been her lover. They made love more intensely with their minds than others did with their bodies. Would they have been physically compatible? Yes, it would have been explosive between them. But now she would never find out. Samantha needed to know who Jack was and she didn't want to surrender his memory just yet.
Picking up the box, Samantha left the VCTF. Walking out to her car, she punched Angel's number into her cellphone. When she answered, Samantha explained, "I'm leaving Atlanta for a couple days. Watch Chloe or call Tom's parents."
Before Angel could respond, Samantha hung up and tossed her cell phone into the garbage can. Sliding into her car she began to drive. Although Jack's lair hadn't been found, his family had a house in Savannah. Samantha had to go and at least once see somewhere that Jack had lived and breathed. She knew she would be unwelcome at his family home in light of her role in Jack's death hitting every major newspaper in the country, but she needed to find some sense of peace.
For over an hour, Samantha drove towards Savannah. Since Jack's death, the Newquay family had proven to be a bit of a challenge. Miriam Newquay wasn't dead, as she irritably had told investigators it was her sister-in-law Muriel Newquay who died. Jack's body had been claimed very quickly and Miriam, a former Senator's wife, used her influence to have his body brought to Savannah for autopsy instead of Atlanta. The thought of Jack's body being desecrated in an autopsy made Samantha's blood run cold. At last she reached her destination and a fresh wave of pain washed over her.
As the car pulled up in front of the Newquay mansion, Johnson mentally groaned. Since Jack's identity had been revealed, all of the staff had been dismissed and it was a challenge to keep Miriam in line. Thirty-seven years before, he had become Miriam's lover and thirty-five years ago she'd borne his son. Miriam had never been entirely together, but Johnson had loved her anyway. Now her scattered thinking put them all in great peril and he hoped the visitor would leave quickly before Miriam would see them and possibly forget herself and accidentally give Jack away.
Over the years, Johnson had had a love-hate relationship with his son. Jack had been devastated when he learned the truth. At the age of twelve during his Gauchers treatments, Miriam had told Jack because she arranged for both father and son to go to Russia. Keeping Jack alive had been hard, but to Johnson it was worth it. His son would have the world at his feet, but instead Jack shunned wealth and in defiance spent several years living in a convent and working as a maintenance man. Later Johnson stumbled on his son murdering his adoptive father and learned a great deal about Jack's nature.
Johnson was shocked but helped his son stage the killing as an accident. Having Jack's unwitting adoptive father dead was actually of great convenience so Johnson said little. Later when the Jack-Of-All-Trades case hit the papers, Johnson confronted his son with his suspicions which Jack confirmed without hesitation.
"Damn it Jackson," Johnson swore. "Can't you be discreet about things."
"She is everything to me and she has to learn," Jack had responded in a passionate tone.
Grabbing Jack, Johnson shook him and swore. Then he threw his arms around him and pleaded, "Just be careful. You mean so much to your mother and I both."
"She's crazy," Jack snapped dismissing his mother and pulling away
"I know," Johnson replied sadly. Then giving his son a knowing look, "But when you love a woman she's perfect in your eyes."
"I promise to be careful," Jack assured him and softened his tone slightly.
Their next meeting wasn't so cordial, when Jack had shown up wounded and bleeding, Johnson was horrified as his son bled on him and then collapsed. During Jack's recuperation he hounded Miriam for updates and avoided his son. He was furious with his son for constantly putting himself at risk and causing him so many sleepless nights. Now that Jack was back at the house, Johnson was more worried than ever before.
It wasn't that he worried about the danger to himself and Miriam, should the authorities learn the truth. Since returning to the house, Jack was nearly catatonic. He moved mechanically through the motions of showering and getting dressed each day. But tray after tray of food was left untouched until Johnson took it back to the kitchen and no amount of pleading from himself or Miriam could induce him. For hours Jack would stare blankly while he periodically spoke to himself. Whatever happened in Atlanta seemed to have taken the life out of Jack, even though he was still breathing.
When the knock from the visitor came, Johnson forced himself to assume an appropriate expression and he checked the gun under his jacked before answering. Whatever the cost, Miriam and his son would be kept safe. When he opened the door and saw Samantha Waters he was shocked. Uncertain of what to do and exhausted from worrying about Jack, Johnson snapped, "What do you want? You of all people have no business here."
The man's tone was dripping with contempt and Samantha's face crumpled and she sobbed out, "I know. It's just-"
"What?" Johnson prompted curtly.
"I just wanted to see where he had lived," she whispered brokenly.
"Why?" he demanded angrily.
"I don't know," Samantha murmured. "Because I want to pretend it isn't real. Because I loved him so damn much-"
"So that's why you killed him? Because you loved him," Johnson sneered.
Turning away Samantha leaned on one of the columns and sobbed, "I would give anything if I could take it back. I wish I'd been braver and stayed with him. No- I wish I were dead with him because I can't take how much this hurts."
Johnson watched Samantha intently. He ought to turn her away, if she knew Jack was alive she might reveal the truth or kill him. On the other hand, Jack was fading away and was little more than an empty shell. The girl had shot Jack twice but then loving Miriam seemed like insanity to anyone on the outside looking in. From the tortured expression on Samantha's face, she seemed to be faring little better than Jack and he wavered.
At last Johnson relented, "I suppose it wouldn't harm anything if you were to see his room. Come with me."
Samantha followed the man upstairs and was surprised when he pointed to the door and told her to go inside and close the door behind her. Being trusted alone in Jack's room was more than she could have hoped for. Maybe she could make peace with herself at last. As she turned the handle the scent of tobacco and roses that she associated with Jack seemed to swirl around her and an aching lump formed in her throat. Walking inside, she closed the door and took a step forward, only to almost collapse with shock.
Sitting in the dim light was Jack. He was dressed in an ivory suit and his appearance was neat, but his face had a gaunt and haunted look. His sinewy body looked far too thin and he stared blankly. Samantha gasped, but Jack remained motionless and didn't seem to see her.
"Samantha," he murmured.
For a second she thought he noticed her then realized he was simply talking to himself as he began so shake his head. "How could you? How could you kill me like that? All the years we were together in our game."
"I know and I'm so sorry, Jack," she told him moving forward.
"You always say that," Jack replied sadly and Samantha realized he still didn't understand she was there as he continued, "Every day you come to me but you always leave."
"Not this time," Samantha assured him, her eyes filling with tears.
"Yes you will," Jack sighed. "I was a fool to think love could conquer all and that you would be mine."
"You can't leave me by myself Jack," Samantha entreated.
"Oh yes. I can follow you around for another decade while you torment me," Jack answered. "How many more men will I see touching you, while I long for just one smile?"
"There never were other men," Samantha argued.
A faint curve of bitter amusement curved Jack's mouth as he drawled, "That's a new one. Delirium is changing and being argumentative. Interesting."
"There weren't other men," Samantha insisted.
"What the hell did I have to have Sharon kill Coop for then?"
"My heart has never belonged to anyone but you Jack. Not even Tom touched me the way you do," she replied.
"Touch you?" Jack laughed in a harsh and bitter tone. "What wouldn't I have given to have you touch me just once of your own volition? Why couldn't you have been a little like Sharon? She loved touching me, she craved my touch. Couldn't even enjoy it though, because all I could see was you."
You're not seeing me now, Samantha thought frustratedly and suggested, "Maybe I wanted you to touch me first. I needed you to pull me over the edge. One kiss and I would have melted."
"You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss," Jack singsonged hollowly. Stopping suddenly, he demanded, "Why couldn't you have killed me? The Kevlar and curare were in case they tried to part us. Would have left it at home if I'd known you wanted to kill me. I wish you had killed me."
"No!" Samantha cried out.
"Life hurts too damn much without you my Samantha."
"I'm with you," she insisted.
"No, you're not. When you tried to kill me, you succeeded. Jack O Trades died whether the bullet hit him or not," Jack explained. Then he closed his eyes as he sighed, "But I wish all of me were dead."
Samantha trembled. Jack was dead, maybe not physically, but she'd broken him. Knowing she was responsible, her chest ached with guilt and pain. It felt like her heart was being torn from her chest and she knelt in front of him. Hope fading, she began to sob, "I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry darling."
The most confident man she'd ever known and she'd destroyed him, Samantha realized as she wept. Leaning forward she rested her head in Jack's lap and cried. Absorbed in her crying she didn't notice when his hand started to caress her hair. Jack reached out for Samantha as he always did and was shocked when the vision didn't dissolve but had form.
Confused, he looked down and finally seeing her, hesitated, "Samantha?"
Raising her head up she looked at him through tear filled eyes and nodded, "Yes."
"What-" Jack trailed off. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't! Staring in disbelief, he exclaimed, "Have I gone mad at last!"
Taking his hand in hers, Samantha wept, "You're not mad, I'm the one who is crazy to think I could ever live without you. Forgive me. Oh God, forgive me Jack. Hurt me. Kill me. Anything, just please be you. I would give anything to take back that day."
"You shot me," Jack reminded her in a dull tone.
"Every moment since then, I've hated myself. I don't care about anything anymore, except for you Jack. Not Chloe, not my friends. Nothing matters to me but you," Samantha choked out. "You're what makes me, me. There is no Samantha without Jack."
"I see, so in the end I'm all you have," Jack bit out.
"No, Jack," Samantha corrected him. "You're all I've ever had. I may have been scared to admit it, but I always knew it."
Jack gave her a skeptical look and she confessed, "That's my whole problem. My whole life has been lived in fear. Not of you, but of me. What scared me about you was that you saw the real me and accepted her."
Rising up, Samantha put her hand on either side of Jack's face and continued, "I finally understand what your messages to me at the scenes were about. I always assumed the reason you called me Sam in your notes and Samantha aloud were to keep copycats from being attributed to you. Now I know better."
"Do you?" Jack asked scarcely breathing as he met her intense gaze.
Leaning closer to him, Samantha clarified, "You called me Sam in the notes because the murders were lessons and Sam needed to learn them."
"And Samantha?" Jack pressed urgently.
"The woman you loved and knew I really was. Sam was a mask I showed the world, but you saw through it Jack."
Hope rising within him, Jack surged forward and demanded, "And who are you?"
"Samantha. Your Samantha," she answered.
Pushing him back in the chair, Samantha kissed him. For so long she'd lived in fear and as a result had nearly lost the one person who truly loved and understood her, she had to show Jack how she felt. On and on she kissed him until at last they were both gasping for air.
Weeping, Samantha murmured, "I love you, Jack."
"Samantha," Jack gasped and claimed her mouth again.
In their embrace they both wept and kissed as longing and pain were pushed aside. Clinging tightly, they were together at last as both of them had always longed to be. Their mouths whispered vows of love as they moved to the bed and their bodies married. In the hallway at the sounds of pleasure, Johnson smiled and decided to bring two dinner trays in a couple hours. Jack was with his Samantha at last.