Sam let Noah lead him to a couch once they reached the surgical waiting room, putting his head in his hands with a groan as Noah hurried over to ask the nurse if there was any news. His head was still spinning slightly, not really able to process what was going on. Noah, back safe and sound and Catherine....
"They're still working on her," Noah said as he came back over and sat down beside Sam, a worried look on his face as he watched the older marshal. If Sam had gone through even a fraction of this thinking that he was.... He reached out, wrapping an arm around Sam, not sure how he would react but needing to offer some kind of comfort. "They say she's holding her own, Sam. It's going to be okay. Catherine's a tough lady."
"Did she say anything while the two of you were down there?" Sam asked quietly, pausing for a moment before he continued. "I'm glad you were with her, Noah." If he couldn't be there to look after Catherine, there was no one else he would have trusted with her as he would the young marshal.
"Umm," Noah wasn't really sure exactly how much he should tell Sam, knowing that he probably wouldn't take some of the things that Catherine had intended as last messages well. "She was worried about you, made me promise to keep an eye on you." He dug around in the bag he was carrying for a minute before pulling out the diamond earrings that Catherine had been wearing. "She wanted you to hold onto these for her. Think they won't get mislaid?"
Sam reached out, not speaking as he took the earrings, running a finger slowly over each stone, remembering giving them to Catherine, the expression on her face when she opened the package. He closed his eyes for a moment. These had been the earrings he'd given her for Christmas, that first year, when Cath had been pregnant, and they'd celebrated being an almost-family. He knew, looking down at the glittering little baubles, what Noah hadn't told him: Catherine was saying goodbye to him. No, he thought, I won't let go. Won't let her go. He couldn't lose her, not now. "How was she?" he asked then. "Was she in much pain?"
"Some towards the end --er, just before we got out. I tried making her as comfortable as I could, held her for awhile to keep her calm. She wanted me to let you know that she loves you." Noah would rather talk about anything than the pain Catherine had been in after the tornado and maybe it would make Sam feel better to know how Catherine had been feeling.
"Never should have let her get away," Sam murmured softly, eyes sad. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and then over at Noah. "How long's she been in there?"
"Little over an hour, I think," Noah said as he glanced over at the clock as well. "I saw her just before they took her up to surgery, let her know that I was there and that you were on your way. Told her I had enough money to get us home if we ended up misplaced." He grinned slightly at that. "She'll probably be real, real happy to see you if she ever finds out my bank balance. I think I have enough for bus tickets."
"Son, you know that I didn't...."
"Sam, I know you would never have left if you had known," Noah said quietly. "And I'm sorry if what I said in the ER.... It's just that for the last three years, not knowing who I was and not having anyone coming to look for me.... I even got online and checked out those missing persons sites, hoping that someone might be.... What kind of person would I have had to have been to have no one who cared enough to try to find me?"
"We didn't know," Sam stared at Noah intently, brown eyes uncharacteristically pleading, hoping that the boy understood. "Noah, I swear to you that if we had any idea that you might have been alive, we would have torn that city apart looking for you."
"I know, Sam. I know," Noah said gently. He paused for a minute before continuing, hoping that Sam took this the way he meant it. "You know, Sam, I always kind of thought of you as a father figure. Didn't get along so great with my own father, he never really wanted kids, don't know how my mom taked him into the adoption to begin with."
"They're both gone now, aren't they?" Sam asked quietly, recalling what little he remembered of Noah's.... Well, of the funeral that they thought had been Noah's.
"Yeah. Barely even remember my mother. Stepmother definitely wasn't cut out for the parenting gig either. Looks like you guys are it for me and family. I couldn't ask for a better one, really I couldn't, Sam."
Sam slowly drew Noah closer to him, patting him slowly, awkwardly, on the back. He had always kind of thought of the people he had worked with as his kids but Noah had definately been special. "You know, I always thought of you as....as..." He fought to get out the words, "...my son." He paused for a moment, reluctant but at the same time finally wanting to share this with someone. "No one else on the team knows this but Catherine and I, we had a son. Would have been about your age if he had lived. Something went wrong, Catherine almost died giving birth to him and.... well.... If he had lived, I hope he would have been like you, Noah."
Noah stared for a moment at the older man. "Sam...you're saying..."
"I'm saying I always wished you were my son," Sam admitted bluntly. Then he glanced away, unwilling to sustain the intense eye contact.
"Sam...I..."
"Hush, son."
"Yes, sir." But Noah put out a hand, and laid it on Sam's shoulder. "Sam...you're the man I always wished my dad had been."
Sam suddenly stood, needing to do something, the only thing he could think of. "They have a chapel here?"