A/N: I wrote this one night when I couldn't sleep as an exercise for myself. No real back story, but I do feel the need to state explicitly that it's all dialog because it's all from an injured Sam's point of view. He lacks 4 out of 5 senses and the only thing his remaining sense (hearing) is focused on is Jules. He's unaware of anything else.
"Sam?"
Yeah, Jules?
"I don't know if you can hear me, but…"
I hear you loud and clear.
"I'm going to beg anyway. Please, wake up."
I want to. I think something's broken.
"Please?"
I don't know how to fix it.
"I need you."
I don't think I can do it.
"We both need you."
Both? Jules, are you saying what I think you're saying?
Sighs. "I was going to tell you Friday. Figured if I told you after we got off shift, you'd have until Monday morning to get over your excitement. Preferably Sunday night so we could figure out how this is going to work."
Jules… You're so far off base with his. I'm going to need about nine months to get over this. Maybe another eighteen after that. I don't know. I'm so excited about this baby, Jules. I love you so much right now.
"I should have just told you…but I didn't think this would happen. I thought I'd have time. The thought of you never knowing…"
I know, Jules. I'm happy.
"You just have to wake up, okay? You can't die on me, Sam. Are you hearing me?"
Loud and clear.
"I don't know when or how you got to mean so much to me…"
It's because we fit. It didn't just go away when we tried to let it because we're meant to be, Jules.
"But it feels right. Like we're meant to be. I don't put a lot of stock in fate and soul mates, but I like the idea that we're supposed to be together, you know? Because if we're supposed to end up together, you have to get through this. You have to be okay."
It's going to be you and me. A baby. More babies. A wedding. Reverse the last two. Then reverse the first two. I want to marry you, Jules. I don't want to wait. We'll get a marriage license today and get married tomorrow. I bet Sarge can find us a judge who can marry us on short notice.
"You have to wake up."
Oh. Right. I forgot that part.
"I'm serious, Sam."
I know.
"Come back to me."
I don't think I—