Disclaimer: I still own nothing except the story..the characters are not,
and never will be, mine.
Reflections
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Jack noted that his back had gone completely numb, thanks to the cruel plastic rigidity of the hospital chair he had been sitting in for over two hours. Not that it mattered, of course. All that mattered was the very still form of Samantha Spade lying in front of him; the stillness broken only by her slight, shallow breathing. He had been looking at her face for so long that he couldn't memorize it any further if he tried. Her lips, usually so red and full, were almost deathly pale and dry. Her face was the same off-white color, and her freckles stood out in stark contrast. Her hair, once neat and shiny, was matted to her head and soaked with sweat. Luckily for Jack, the delicate hand he held between his two broad ones was warm, and holding it gave him hope. Oh, he knew she wasn't going to die, had heard the assurances of what seemed like a hundred doctors and besides, Sam was stronger than that. He knew this, he knew her. Still, the guarantees of every doctor in the world couldn't make him feel as safe as he felt holding Samantha's soft, very alive hand in his own. He closed his eyes for a moment, and let everything disappear except himself and Samantha. Samantha. She was..smart, beautiful, and funny..but she was so much more than that. She was passion, energy, life, the reason he hadn't completely broken under the trials of the job. He owed so much to her.
And she loved him. He had never been surer of anything in his life. He heard it in her voice, felt it in even the slightest of touches, but above anything else, he saw it in her eyes. He remembered that day on the bench outside the courthouse, after he had just put his job on the line and seen a killer go free. He remembered how soft her hair had felt, and the slight break in her otherwise even voice as she asked him if it was over. Most of all, though, he remembered her eyes. Her dark eyes, so brave and trusting, gazing steadily into his own and allowing him to make the final decision. "Yeah, it's over..." Even now, Jack felt a sharp pang thinking about those three words. He again saw Samantha's split second breakdown, evident only in the subtle shattering of the hope once alive in her deep eyes, which would have gone unnoticed to anyone except him. Then she recovered, and he did the only thing he could think of; held her as close as their location would allow and willed her to understand, to realize that no, he didn't want it to be over, that he had only said it because it was the "right" thing to say and that holding her was as close to heaven as he could ever hope to be.
His thoughts flashed to the events of the previous day, remembering the way his heart had skipped a beat when Barry had relented and admitted to him that Sam had been shot. He didn't remember ever being so scared, and yet his mind had never been more focused. His one and only purpose became getting Samantha out of the bookstore and to safety. And when it became clear that he would need to trade himself for Samantha, he never gave it a second thought. After all, there was really nothing to think about. Kneeling down beside her in the store, Jack's heart ached as Samantha allowed the pain she was feeling to surface, tears gathering in her brave brown eyes. Carrying her out of the bookstore, Jack wanted nothing more than to take her to the hospital himself, and never leave her side. He could still feel the pressure of her soft hand on his cheek, a silent thank you that said more than words ever could. Yeah, Samantha Spade loved him. And he loved her, loved her with a depth he didn't even know he had.
Slowly, as if in response to his revelation, Samantha began to move. Jack gently stroked her cheek, and felt everything fade into the background as her eyes fluttered open and locked on his, and he was lost. "Or maybe found," he pondered for a brief second before thoughts ceased to exist, and Jack was kissing Samantha, kissing her with the promise of a tomorrow, of a next week, of a future..of the best he could give her. As he pulled away slightly and saw the surprised yet delighted grin on her now-slightly swollen lips and the love reflected in those dark eyes, Jack knew this was a promise he would keep.
Reflections
Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Jack noted that his back had gone completely numb, thanks to the cruel plastic rigidity of the hospital chair he had been sitting in for over two hours. Not that it mattered, of course. All that mattered was the very still form of Samantha Spade lying in front of him; the stillness broken only by her slight, shallow breathing. He had been looking at her face for so long that he couldn't memorize it any further if he tried. Her lips, usually so red and full, were almost deathly pale and dry. Her face was the same off-white color, and her freckles stood out in stark contrast. Her hair, once neat and shiny, was matted to her head and soaked with sweat. Luckily for Jack, the delicate hand he held between his two broad ones was warm, and holding it gave him hope. Oh, he knew she wasn't going to die, had heard the assurances of what seemed like a hundred doctors and besides, Sam was stronger than that. He knew this, he knew her. Still, the guarantees of every doctor in the world couldn't make him feel as safe as he felt holding Samantha's soft, very alive hand in his own. He closed his eyes for a moment, and let everything disappear except himself and Samantha. Samantha. She was..smart, beautiful, and funny..but she was so much more than that. She was passion, energy, life, the reason he hadn't completely broken under the trials of the job. He owed so much to her.
And she loved him. He had never been surer of anything in his life. He heard it in her voice, felt it in even the slightest of touches, but above anything else, he saw it in her eyes. He remembered that day on the bench outside the courthouse, after he had just put his job on the line and seen a killer go free. He remembered how soft her hair had felt, and the slight break in her otherwise even voice as she asked him if it was over. Most of all, though, he remembered her eyes. Her dark eyes, so brave and trusting, gazing steadily into his own and allowing him to make the final decision. "Yeah, it's over..." Even now, Jack felt a sharp pang thinking about those three words. He again saw Samantha's split second breakdown, evident only in the subtle shattering of the hope once alive in her deep eyes, which would have gone unnoticed to anyone except him. Then she recovered, and he did the only thing he could think of; held her as close as their location would allow and willed her to understand, to realize that no, he didn't want it to be over, that he had only said it because it was the "right" thing to say and that holding her was as close to heaven as he could ever hope to be.
His thoughts flashed to the events of the previous day, remembering the way his heart had skipped a beat when Barry had relented and admitted to him that Sam had been shot. He didn't remember ever being so scared, and yet his mind had never been more focused. His one and only purpose became getting Samantha out of the bookstore and to safety. And when it became clear that he would need to trade himself for Samantha, he never gave it a second thought. After all, there was really nothing to think about. Kneeling down beside her in the store, Jack's heart ached as Samantha allowed the pain she was feeling to surface, tears gathering in her brave brown eyes. Carrying her out of the bookstore, Jack wanted nothing more than to take her to the hospital himself, and never leave her side. He could still feel the pressure of her soft hand on his cheek, a silent thank you that said more than words ever could. Yeah, Samantha Spade loved him. And he loved her, loved her with a depth he didn't even know he had.
Slowly, as if in response to his revelation, Samantha began to move. Jack gently stroked her cheek, and felt everything fade into the background as her eyes fluttered open and locked on his, and he was lost. "Or maybe found," he pondered for a brief second before thoughts ceased to exist, and Jack was kissing Samantha, kissing her with the promise of a tomorrow, of a next week, of a future..of the best he could give her. As he pulled away slightly and saw the surprised yet delighted grin on her now-slightly swollen lips and the love reflected in those dark eyes, Jack knew this was a promise he would keep.