3 AM Visit


Disclaimer: Not mine, will never be mine.

:: Spoilers for Priority of Life.


The elevator was buzzing; the sound of the muted rumble of the air conditioner combined with the loud, metal reverberation of the cables rotating and moving. Sam leaned his head back, a tingle of shiver going up his spine when the warm skin of his neck made contact with the cold surface of the wall.

As he watched the floor indicator lights gradually crawling up, he remembered the old horror tale their nanny used to tell him and his sisters as kids. For close to three years, it had been an effective way to make them choose the stairs instead of using the modern technology. Nat had reluctantly confided that elevators still made her edgy sometimes- lingering remnants of childhood nightmares.

Sam had never come to the Barn this late at night. Sure, sometimes the job made them stay from sunrise to sunrise, but he'd never purposely visited the headquarter past midnight, when they were off duty nonetheless. The SUVs were missing from the parking lot, so other teams must be dealing with hot calls now.

He had been content sitting next to Jules' hospital bed, trying to busy himself by reading sports magazine while watching her watching him. Three units of bloods had been transfused into her body yesterday and he was glad –though relieved was more like it- that St. Simon had O negative supplies. She had once told him in passing that she shared the same blood type as her father. Only 1% of the world population had the rare blood type and two Callaghans had it. The world was funny that way.

Sam didn't think her dad would have so willingly flown to Toronto, let alone donated a couple liters of his AB negative. Jules couldn't have waited that long anyway. He had called Natalie on his way to HQ yesterday, demanding her to grab a cab to the hospital as soon as possible even though he knew they wouldn't let her see Jules just yet. Still, the idea of Jules being all alone in a place she hated so much had been highly disconcerting.

"You should go." She said at last, breaking their eye contact.

When Jules got shot a few years back, it had been immediate and abrupt and she had lost consciousness as soon as the bullet dug its way into her side. This time, they had the 'privilege' to witness and experience everything from front row seats, painfully savoring every single second of it.

He was scared shitless, he was helpless and the one time he really hoped that time would move slower, it didn't. It wasn't like snuggling in bed with Jules on a Sunday morning, wishing she would let him spoon against her for another half an hour. He wasn't a religious person by any stretch, but he had prayed that Jules would come out of it alive. That it was nothing than some cruel, mean jokes life threw at them because life's a bitch that way and their love would become even stronger than ever after it ended. If it ended. It did.

"I'm feeling plenty comfortable right now." That was a downright lie. The chair had begun to hurt his back, but he had spent nights sleeping in a dug hole when he was still in Kandahar. A plastic chair was a luxury, so was the presence of a certain Julianna Callaghan. Although the latter was more of a gift than anything else.

"You should go home."

He sat his magazine on the table and leaned forward , holding her gaze. "Jules, I am home."

Her eyebrows twitched, once, twice, and the grin tugging at the corner of her lips burst into a not so lady-like snort.

"You should hear yourself, Sam."

Sam shrugged. It might be cheesy, but it wasn't so far off from the truth, if not the truth itself.

"Sam, you snore. I could use a good night sleep and I can't have that with you snoring your heart out one meter away from me."

"Jules." Pretending to be wounded usually didn't get him anywhere, but there was a first time for everything.

"Oh, shush."

Jules had shushed him with a resolute stare that left no room for arguments. He had to learn how to say no to her more, just like those college kids needed to learn the importance of staying off drugs. Feeling slightly defeated, he'd simply kissed her with a promise to return bright and early in the morning. He had told her once again that he loved her, and it hadn't been unrequited.

The feeling was indescribable.

Sam walked into the locker room, footsteps echoing with every footfall. Everything looked familiar and yet the emptiness made the vast room feel almost foreign for him. Stopping in front of his locker, he took something out of his jacket.

Nimble thumb flicked open the box lid and he gave what's inside a thorough look. Lacking of female friends whose opinions he could trust, there had been a full minute of contemplation to ask Natalie for her womanly advice. He'd thought better of it, however, and thank God. She would have picked the most gaudy, flashy ring that would blind his eyes and made him go broke. Jules and Nat were polar opposites. Anything that Nat disliked deserved to be taken into consideration. That, and he would have called CBC if he wanted to broadcast the news.

The band was slender and white, and the rock sitting on top was a teardrop diamond. It had a very simple, elegant design and he was thinking of putting an engraving on it. He certainly could envision the ring delicately embracing Jules' finger.

He hoped she would love it.

He hoped she would accept it.

Exhaling deeply, Sam closed the velvet box, carefully tucking it under his old SRU hat to conceal it from plain view. It was his first hat after he joined the team, and it had a bullet hole on it. It had never even crossed his mind to throw it away.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, maybe it's time to put up pictures of Jules on his locker. Or was it pushing it too much? His wallet was like a shrine to his girlfriend. He had at least three different pictures of Jules and a couple of him and her. Jules only kept one picture of them inside her purse, hid behind a black and white photo of her and her brothers. Since it was Jules, he understood why she'd done that. But the wrinkled edge showed that she had looked at it often. The knowledge warmed his heart.

Sam glanced at his watch. It was almost 3 AM.

It was 'bright and early enough in the morning'.

He closed his locker.

It's time to go 'home'.


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