Title: Negligence, Chapter 2
Author: Stepf
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but wouldn't mind borrowing Danny for a bit.
Notes: Ahhh chapter two. I know it has been a long time coming, but I went on vacation (WOOOO VEGAS!) and then I had to catch up with life. Hopefully this short little thing is worth your time. Cause the next one.all kinds unseemly.
Thanks: To everyone who has read and reviewed, or just read. Thank you for supporting the fan fic writers brain. Big props go out to all those at Maple Street and my fabulous beta, E, what she goes through so you get this perfect final product. Dev and Din..love you guys, for all the support and suggestions and telling me when it sucked.
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An emergency room is a cacophony of noise and sights and smells. Some people are in probably the worst, others the best time of their lives. The average person notices all of it. Sam, however, notices none of it. After following the stretcher back as far as the nurse would allow her to go, Sam just stands, waiting. Numb to the bone, feeling is pushed into the "later" category. Feeling is too much like admitting Jack could still die. She is running what happened through her brain, how this could have happened, angry that she didn't know because her back was turned. Adrenaline is running through her body now; she can feel herself shaking from it. She needs to do something, anything.
So she paces back and forth just outside the trauma room where they took him in. If she wanted to, Sam could stand on her tiptoes and look into the small square windows, but something won't let her. She can hear her both her breathing, and her heart going at a fast pace, unable to slow down. She can still feel his blood under her fingers, the warm substance spilling out of him and going nowhere useful. Draining him of life. The urge to peek through that window is starting to overpower her. She has to know what is happening.
Finally deciding to just do it, Sam starts to stand on her tiptoes when her name is called down the hall. That gets her attention, and she drops back down, but not before seeing doctors and nurses frantically trying to save her boss, her mentor, her.something. 'Please save him, I need him,' she thinks and turns to the voice.
"Sam.oh my god. Are you ok?" Danny asks, concern evident in his voice. Despite probably being awakened from a dead sleep, he looks awake and refreshed, like he does every morning. But his expression is what really grabs her attention. He looks like he has seen a ghost. She doesn't understand why until she follows his gaze down and really looks at herself, instead of just glancing like she had been.
She is shocked to see herself covered in blood. Actually, covered doesn't adequately describe it, she is practically bathed in it. Blood is soaked into her cotton shirt to the point of almost not being able to tell the original color. The cuffs are a dark crimson, the fabric at its saturation point. Her jeans are not as bad, but long streaks of blood cascade down her thighs, stopping at her knees, where just dirt covered her shins.
"Ohhhhhhh..god." She draws out and looks up at him, desperation in her eyes.
"Sam? Are you ok?" he asks her again. She can hear him, but it's fuzzy, in the distance. She has to get rid of it, get the blood of her. His blood, on her. Covering her. Drying on her. She has to get it off. Off. Her. NOW.
"Not my blood, it's not mine. Jack." She starts to pace more furiously now, wondering if exposing herself in a trauma room would really garner that much attention. Anything to get out of these clothes. Pulling at the hem of her shirt, Danny's hand stops her.
"Wait, Samantha. Wait," he says, and indicates with his hand for her to stay there.
She watches him head down the hall and talk to a tall blonde nurse, who nods and walks away from him. Danny turns back to her and gives her a wan smile. He's trying. Before he can return however, the doors to the trauma room open, ushering out Jack, endless monitors and tubes, and several doctors and nurses. One doctor stops and looks at her.
"Are you Sam?"
"Yeah, yes. I am. How is he?"
"He's hanging on. We have him stable for now, but he needs major surgery to pull that slug out and repair the damage. Right now it looks like he took a hit right in the liver; we have the bleeding under control for now. The surgeon will update you later." She sees the doctor take in her appearance. "Ma'am, are you ok?"
"Fine, I'm fine. Thank you."
"You're welcome. You can wait upstairs but, ummm, can I recommend you get some scrubs from the nurse first?"
"Got it covered." A male voice calls from over her shoulder. She hadn't heard Danny approach them. The doctor nods at Danny and starts to walk away until Danny's voice again floats over her.
"Umm doc, can you be sure to preserve the bullet for us?" Sam can hear in his voice the hesitation to even ask, but it has to be done.
"Of course," he says and walks away, following the path Jack has just taken.
"Samantha, come on."
She feels him touch her upper arm to guide her, but the contact makes her violently pull away. No one can touch her. Not just for evidence sake, but she can't stand the idea of anyone but Jack touching her now. She needs to feel him again, alive before allowing that. Quickly Danny snaps his hand back, and simply leads her into the closest bathroom, initially trying to follow her in, but she gives him a harsh glare that stops him at the door.
"I can undress myself."
"I know, but the."
She licks her lips and swallows hard. This is one conversation she never wanted to have. "Evidence. I know, I've done it before. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of blood to test." With that she turns into the bathroom, holding scrubs in her shaking hands.
Carefully stripping the stained clothes off, Sam can't help but think of what could have been done to avoid this. If she hadn't left him alone with 2 suspects, hadn't turned her back, hadn't... If they had seen that other car, maybe they would have been more prepared. After pulling the institutional green colored scrubs over her head, Sam carefully folds her clothes, like she would if she was folding laundry. Walking out, she looks at herself in the mirror. She looks tired, drained even. Her normally bright complexion is now ashen, her brown eyes dull. Moving farther down her face, Sam is distressed to find a smear of blood under her chin. Bringing one hand up, she then notices the blood on her hands, covering them, under her nails, staining the cuticles.
As panic sets in, Sam almost drops the clothes on the ground, but has the presence of mind to set them on a chair placed next to the sink. Swiftly turning on the faucet, Sam sticks her hands under the running water, unaware of the temperature, and not caring. She has to get rid of the blood. Now. Pumping soap out of the dispenser, she scrubs her hands violently. Not noticing the pain as the too hot water makes contact with raw skin. Rubbing them together quickly, she watches the red tinted water swirl down the drain. Quickly moving to her face, she scrubs at the dried blood there, swiftly removing the mark. Rinsing off her hands, she can still see blood under her perfectly manicured nails. Scrubbing at her right hand with the left, she isn't aware of Danny calling her name through the door until he actually opens it and sticks his head in.
"Samantha?" She can hear him now, but chooses to ignore him until he poses a question. "Samantha? Are you ok?"
Her first instinct is to answer yes, fine, as she has been all evening. But she can't anymore. She can't keep this up, not with his blood on her hands, literally. "I'm.no. I'm not fine." She practically whispers and turns from the sink to look at Danny. In his eyes she sees compassion.
"Samantha." He starts and moves toward her, wrapping his arms around the small blonde, made smaller looking by the oversized scrubs. Initially she just stands straight in his embrace, but eventually she gives in, sinking into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. Allowing him, if only for a moment, to help bear the burden of what happened.
She doesn't want it to happen, but before she knows it, tears are flowing freely, followed by hitching sobs and shaking. It had to come out at some point, and she supposes it's better mostly in private than with everyone around her. Gripping onto the back of his suit coat, she releases the fear, distress, panic, everything since she heard that gunshot. After several minutes she releases her grip on him, pulling away slightly, but staying in his personal space. She didn't realize how much she needed the human contact. Standing quietly for a moment, she looks at him.
"Thank you," she says.
"If you need anything.."
She halts him by placing a small hand on his chest. "I know.thank you."
"Come on," he says, and guides her out of the small room, stopping briefly to collect her clothes and place them in a bag he has also procured from the nurse. The image of Samantha standing covered in his boss's blood is something Danny is not likely to forget in this lifetime.
For the longest 2 hours of her life, Samantha sits quietly in the surgery waiting room. She has barely spoken more than 3 sentences the entire time. She is only peripherally aware of the arrival of Vivian and Van Doren. She thinks someone had told her that Martin was interviewing the witness and booking the suspect, now not just for kidnapping, but potentially for the homicide of a federal agent. She shudders slightly at the thought.
"Hey, you ok?" Danny whispers in her ear, close enough for friendly comfort, but not too close. "Cold?"
She turns and gives him an empty look. "In more than one way" is her cryptic response. Danny accepts the answer and places one hand on her back, slowly rubbing up and down in an attempt to make her feel better. Not knowing that nothing could make her feel better. Nothing short of going back 3 hours and rewriting the past.
tbc...........
Author: Stepf
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but wouldn't mind borrowing Danny for a bit.
Notes: Ahhh chapter two. I know it has been a long time coming, but I went on vacation (WOOOO VEGAS!) and then I had to catch up with life. Hopefully this short little thing is worth your time. Cause the next one.all kinds unseemly.
Thanks: To everyone who has read and reviewed, or just read. Thank you for supporting the fan fic writers brain. Big props go out to all those at Maple Street and my fabulous beta, E, what she goes through so you get this perfect final product. Dev and Din..love you guys, for all the support and suggestions and telling me when it sucked.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An emergency room is a cacophony of noise and sights and smells. Some people are in probably the worst, others the best time of their lives. The average person notices all of it. Sam, however, notices none of it. After following the stretcher back as far as the nurse would allow her to go, Sam just stands, waiting. Numb to the bone, feeling is pushed into the "later" category. Feeling is too much like admitting Jack could still die. She is running what happened through her brain, how this could have happened, angry that she didn't know because her back was turned. Adrenaline is running through her body now; she can feel herself shaking from it. She needs to do something, anything.
So she paces back and forth just outside the trauma room where they took him in. If she wanted to, Sam could stand on her tiptoes and look into the small square windows, but something won't let her. She can hear her both her breathing, and her heart going at a fast pace, unable to slow down. She can still feel his blood under her fingers, the warm substance spilling out of him and going nowhere useful. Draining him of life. The urge to peek through that window is starting to overpower her. She has to know what is happening.
Finally deciding to just do it, Sam starts to stand on her tiptoes when her name is called down the hall. That gets her attention, and she drops back down, but not before seeing doctors and nurses frantically trying to save her boss, her mentor, her.something. 'Please save him, I need him,' she thinks and turns to the voice.
"Sam.oh my god. Are you ok?" Danny asks, concern evident in his voice. Despite probably being awakened from a dead sleep, he looks awake and refreshed, like he does every morning. But his expression is what really grabs her attention. He looks like he has seen a ghost. She doesn't understand why until she follows his gaze down and really looks at herself, instead of just glancing like she had been.
She is shocked to see herself covered in blood. Actually, covered doesn't adequately describe it, she is practically bathed in it. Blood is soaked into her cotton shirt to the point of almost not being able to tell the original color. The cuffs are a dark crimson, the fabric at its saturation point. Her jeans are not as bad, but long streaks of blood cascade down her thighs, stopping at her knees, where just dirt covered her shins.
"Ohhhhhhh..god." She draws out and looks up at him, desperation in her eyes.
"Sam? Are you ok?" he asks her again. She can hear him, but it's fuzzy, in the distance. She has to get rid of it, get the blood of her. His blood, on her. Covering her. Drying on her. She has to get it off. Off. Her. NOW.
"Not my blood, it's not mine. Jack." She starts to pace more furiously now, wondering if exposing herself in a trauma room would really garner that much attention. Anything to get out of these clothes. Pulling at the hem of her shirt, Danny's hand stops her.
"Wait, Samantha. Wait," he says, and indicates with his hand for her to stay there.
She watches him head down the hall and talk to a tall blonde nurse, who nods and walks away from him. Danny turns back to her and gives her a wan smile. He's trying. Before he can return however, the doors to the trauma room open, ushering out Jack, endless monitors and tubes, and several doctors and nurses. One doctor stops and looks at her.
"Are you Sam?"
"Yeah, yes. I am. How is he?"
"He's hanging on. We have him stable for now, but he needs major surgery to pull that slug out and repair the damage. Right now it looks like he took a hit right in the liver; we have the bleeding under control for now. The surgeon will update you later." She sees the doctor take in her appearance. "Ma'am, are you ok?"
"Fine, I'm fine. Thank you."
"You're welcome. You can wait upstairs but, ummm, can I recommend you get some scrubs from the nurse first?"
"Got it covered." A male voice calls from over her shoulder. She hadn't heard Danny approach them. The doctor nods at Danny and starts to walk away until Danny's voice again floats over her.
"Umm doc, can you be sure to preserve the bullet for us?" Sam can hear in his voice the hesitation to even ask, but it has to be done.
"Of course," he says and walks away, following the path Jack has just taken.
"Samantha, come on."
She feels him touch her upper arm to guide her, but the contact makes her violently pull away. No one can touch her. Not just for evidence sake, but she can't stand the idea of anyone but Jack touching her now. She needs to feel him again, alive before allowing that. Quickly Danny snaps his hand back, and simply leads her into the closest bathroom, initially trying to follow her in, but she gives him a harsh glare that stops him at the door.
"I can undress myself."
"I know, but the."
She licks her lips and swallows hard. This is one conversation she never wanted to have. "Evidence. I know, I've done it before. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of blood to test." With that she turns into the bathroom, holding scrubs in her shaking hands.
Carefully stripping the stained clothes off, Sam can't help but think of what could have been done to avoid this. If she hadn't left him alone with 2 suspects, hadn't turned her back, hadn't... If they had seen that other car, maybe they would have been more prepared. After pulling the institutional green colored scrubs over her head, Sam carefully folds her clothes, like she would if she was folding laundry. Walking out, she looks at herself in the mirror. She looks tired, drained even. Her normally bright complexion is now ashen, her brown eyes dull. Moving farther down her face, Sam is distressed to find a smear of blood under her chin. Bringing one hand up, she then notices the blood on her hands, covering them, under her nails, staining the cuticles.
As panic sets in, Sam almost drops the clothes on the ground, but has the presence of mind to set them on a chair placed next to the sink. Swiftly turning on the faucet, Sam sticks her hands under the running water, unaware of the temperature, and not caring. She has to get rid of the blood. Now. Pumping soap out of the dispenser, she scrubs her hands violently. Not noticing the pain as the too hot water makes contact with raw skin. Rubbing them together quickly, she watches the red tinted water swirl down the drain. Quickly moving to her face, she scrubs at the dried blood there, swiftly removing the mark. Rinsing off her hands, she can still see blood under her perfectly manicured nails. Scrubbing at her right hand with the left, she isn't aware of Danny calling her name through the door until he actually opens it and sticks his head in.
"Samantha?" She can hear him now, but chooses to ignore him until he poses a question. "Samantha? Are you ok?"
Her first instinct is to answer yes, fine, as she has been all evening. But she can't anymore. She can't keep this up, not with his blood on her hands, literally. "I'm.no. I'm not fine." She practically whispers and turns from the sink to look at Danny. In his eyes she sees compassion.
"Samantha." He starts and moves toward her, wrapping his arms around the small blonde, made smaller looking by the oversized scrubs. Initially she just stands straight in his embrace, but eventually she gives in, sinking into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. Allowing him, if only for a moment, to help bear the burden of what happened.
She doesn't want it to happen, but before she knows it, tears are flowing freely, followed by hitching sobs and shaking. It had to come out at some point, and she supposes it's better mostly in private than with everyone around her. Gripping onto the back of his suit coat, she releases the fear, distress, panic, everything since she heard that gunshot. After several minutes she releases her grip on him, pulling away slightly, but staying in his personal space. She didn't realize how much she needed the human contact. Standing quietly for a moment, she looks at him.
"Thank you," she says.
"If you need anything.."
She halts him by placing a small hand on his chest. "I know.thank you."
"Come on," he says, and guides her out of the small room, stopping briefly to collect her clothes and place them in a bag he has also procured from the nurse. The image of Samantha standing covered in his boss's blood is something Danny is not likely to forget in this lifetime.
For the longest 2 hours of her life, Samantha sits quietly in the surgery waiting room. She has barely spoken more than 3 sentences the entire time. She is only peripherally aware of the arrival of Vivian and Van Doren. She thinks someone had told her that Martin was interviewing the witness and booking the suspect, now not just for kidnapping, but potentially for the homicide of a federal agent. She shudders slightly at the thought.
"Hey, you ok?" Danny whispers in her ear, close enough for friendly comfort, but not too close. "Cold?"
She turns and gives him an empty look. "In more than one way" is her cryptic response. Danny accepts the answer and places one hand on her back, slowly rubbing up and down in an attempt to make her feel better. Not knowing that nothing could make her feel better. Nothing short of going back 3 hours and rewriting the past.
tbc...........