Chapter 11
When Sam opened her eyes again later, he was still there. Jake could see the surprise in her face.
"I told you I would be," he told her.
"Yeah, but I'm still not convinced I'm not dreaming," Sam responded.
Jake's mouth twitched.
"How you feeling?" Jake asked her.
"My head hurts a little," her hand come up to where she had the stitches.
"They had to stitch you up," Jake explained.
Sam felt the stitches in her hair and nodded. She flicked her eyes to his again.
"Do you need anything for the pain?" Jake wondered.
Sam shook her head and then frowned when a pain shot through her head. Jake saw it on her face and reached for the nurse's button.
"No," Sam grabbed his hand. Both of them felt the jolt at the contact. "I don't want to be drugged and miss you being here. Just in case you're an illustion."
She almost melted there on the bed when he chuckled softly. Sam felt the love she had for him, always had for him, swallow her up. She also felt the pinpricks of the tears in her eyes.
"Why are you crying?" Jake asked.
"Why are you here?" Sam asked a question of her own.
Jake sat back in the chair, his longsuffering sigh loud in the room despite the beeps of the machines. His eyes met hers and the two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Maybe it was. Neither of them knew for sure.
Both were telling the other many things with their eyes. Neither was sure what it all meant. Both were afraid and wary.
"Will you hold me?" Sam's voice was just a breath in the room.
"Can you be held by an illusion?" Jake teased and Sam could see the amusement in his beautiful mustang eyes.
"So you are an illusion," Sam sighed. Jake saw the disappointment, the sorrow in her expressive brown eyes.
Jake got up from the chair and sat on the bed. He eased his body next to hers, leaning back against the pillows, his legs straight out in front of him on the bed. He crossed his ankles as she burrowed into him. One arm was across his waist. The other was behind his back, almost as if she were trying to hug him.
"You smell the same," Sam murmured.
"You don't," Jake responded.
Sam picked up her head to look into his eyes, questioning his statement.
"You always reminded me of lavender," Jake clarified. "Your Gram had that darn lavender bush at River Bend. Every time I was there, the lavender would fill the air and I'd curse that bush."
"You cursed me?" Sam asked.
"Many times," Jake was honest.
Sam didn't say anything.
"It almost killed me, Brat," Jake told her.
Sam nodded. She understood.
His finger traced the cut on her wrist. "What happened here?"
Sam sighed.
"I tried to slit my wrist on my birthday when I realized you were married," Sam admitted.
Jake bit his lip. He felt it wanting to tremble.
"I suck at trying to off myself," Sam tried to make a joke.
"Thank goodness for that," Jake whispered.
"I hate to have you move, in case you disappear on me, but can you shut off that light," Sam nodded at the only light on in the room.
"Sure," Jake disengaged himself from her and got up off the bed.
Sam watched him walk to the light. My gosh, he was gorgeous. His butt and thighs were so hard. She couldn't help the grin. Maybe she should call him back from turning off the light so she could check out the front of him too.
She snorted and Jake turned, his hand reaching out to turn off the light. He smiled briefly at her. She smiled back at him before the room was plunged into darkness.
"Are you still here?" Sam whispered into the dark room.
"Yeah," his voice was right next to her and she squealed as she jumped.
"You can still sneak up on me," Sam complained, but there was humor in her voice.
"I'm old Brat, not dead," Jake teased, moving in next to her again on the bed.
Sam relaxed against him.
"Please promise me you'll never try to kill yourself again," Jake's voice was low a few minutes later.
Sam sighed. She wasn't sure she could promise that. Now that she had seen him, been near him once more, could she go back to not seeing him or being near him again?
It was like a scab being picked off the skin. Each time it was ripped off, it hurt and took a little more of the skin with it until it scared.
"I…," Sam broke off.
"Promise me, Brat," Jake's voice was harsher.
"I…can't," Sam said.
Jake started to get up and Sam grabbed onto him.
"Don't," Sam pleaded. "Let me explain."
Jake stopped, but didn't relax on the bed.
Sam tried to explain to him using the scab scenario. Jake knew she was telling him that she wasn't sure he was real. That any of this was real. She didn't know his intentions. It was his turn to read between the words.
Jake wasn't sure what to tell her. What words to say. Anything he could say seemed so inadequate to him. How do you tell someone that hurt you so badly that you still cared? How do you tell someone that you hurt by turning away from them that they meant the world to you?
He decided to show her instead. He relaxed again next to her and tightened his arms around her. He felt her sigh of relief.
Jake also felt her fighting sleep again.
"I'll be here, Brat," he murmured softly. "I promise I'm not going anywhere unless you send me away."
"Never," she breathed in a sigh as she found sleep.