Jack Malone POV:
Jack's Office
March 9, 2004
6:58 p.m.
I hear a soft knocking against the glass and glance up to wave Samantha to come inside.
"How'd it go?" I question.
"Oh, the usual." I eye her intently. "She starts to get somewhere and I run off," she laughs jokingly.
"You ready to head home?" I shut the file, standing up to grab my coat.
"Yeah, I need to get my jacket." She heads towards her cubicle and grabs what she needs for the night. Samantha joins me as I head out of the office, shutting the door behind me.
The ride down in the elevator is quiet and I take her hand in mine.
"Jack," she eyes me, pulling away. "We're at work."
"In the elevator," I glance at her seriously. "There aren't surveillance cameras in here. Only in the lobby and parking garage."
"What are you suggesting?" her eyes widen in amusement.
"Nothing," I laugh and the elevator doors open. We head for my car, and I unlock the passenger side door, helping her inside and waiting for her to buckle in before I shut the door and head for my side.
I start the car and turn on the heat, trying to warm us both. I head out of the parking garage and she eyes me. "We're going the wrong way."
"I thought we could use a night out for dinner." She lets out a breath. I'm not sure what's running through her mind. "Sam?"
"I'm still not really hungry," she answers, glancing out the window. "I don't see why we can't go out, though." She shrugs and closes her eyes, leaning the seat back to relax.
"I was thinking Italian. Does that sound all right for you?"
"Yeah," she answers with a yawn, and not long after we pull up front of the classy joint. "Jack?" she eyes me curiously.
"Come on." I pull up front and allow the valet to park the vehicle. I take her hand in mine, leading her inside.
"Jack." Her eyes roam around the restaurant and then back on me as I give the hostess our name and we're escorted to our table. "This is—," she lets out a breath, at a loss for words. She gives me a teary-eyed smile and I lean down and give her a soft kiss before heading into our small corner booth, which allows us to sit beside one another.
"I wanted this night to be perfect."
"Jack?" She eyes me curiously, not sure what I'm getting at.
"Sam, I love you."
"I love you too," she answers with a tired smile and squeezes my hand.
"I'm sorry I dragged you out."
"No, it's okay," she tells me. "I needed a night away from the house anyways."
"I saw Maria this afternoon."
"When?"
"During lunch—when you and Danny investigated our missing person."
"Oh," she runs her finger along the water glass. "So?"
"The divorce is finalized."
She nods with a soft smile. "That's good, I guess." She shrugs, not sure what to say.
"I wanted to celebrate."
"You did?" She eyes me curiously, not understanding. "You were married for over eleven years and you want to celebrate the end of your marriage?"
"We're having a baby. I'm happy; aren't you?"
"Jack," she pauses, her eyes watering. I open my arms, letting her move in to me as I embrace her. Her head falls to my chest. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I run my hand along her back, feeling her tears soak through my shirt. "Whatever it is, it's okay," I tell her. What could have happened that would hurt her this much? Has she been with another man; is the baby not mine? I shake my head—no, she would never do that to me. Maybe it's just the emotional toll from running away.
"I'm sorry," she whispers one final time before she pulls away. In the dimly lit atmosphere, I can't tell that she's been crying, although I can see her pained eyes.
"Sam, I love you."
She nods her head. "Excuse me," she whispers before she takes off for the bathroom. I lean back against the cushions and let out a soft breath. I don't understand what's bothering her so much. Maybe it's the hormones from being pregnant?
She comes back to the table several minutes later. "Jack," her voice breaks, "I think something's wrong."
"What?" My eyes widen in confusion.
"The baby," she trembles in tears.
I leave some cash on the table, then I escort her to the car. "You're bleeding?"
Her face is flushed from crying and her lips are formed downwards in anguish. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as we wait for the valet to bring us the car.
"Come on." I carefully help her inside, shut the door and take off for the nearest hospital.
She covers her face with her hand, too afraid to look into my eyes to see my pain and sadness along with her own.
She's wheeled away on a gurney, and they tell me I can't come any farther behind the double doors.
The only thought that's running through my mind right now, is 'it's my fault.' I shouldn't have let her come into work today. She should have taken another day off, been allowed to rest and recuperate the entire week if needed. What have I done?
**************
Samantha Spade POV:
Mount Sinai
March 9, 2004
8:15 p.m.
I barely register what's going on. This experience is all too surreal as it uncovers before me. I close my eyes as I'm wheeled away, tears dripping down my cheeks and I feel my heart rate soaring.
"Samantha, we need you to relax."
"The baby," I whisper between sobs.
"We're doing everything we can. You need to calm down, though."
"Okay," I nod, biting down on my lower lip as I close my eyes, willing this nightmare to go away.
I feel myself being pulled into a light slumber as I try to mumble out for Jack.
"Sam." I hear Jack's voice and feel his hand on mine. My eyes slowly open, remembering the scene that unfolded not so long ago.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, feeling him lean down to press a soft kiss to my forehead.
"You have nothing to be sorry about."
"What did the doctors say?"
"It was a miscarriage," he answers with a sigh of defeat.
"Oh, Jack." I feel tears welling in my eyes.
"There's nothing you could have done differently," he reassures me, his hands running softly through my hair.
"This isn't the first time."
"What are you talking about, Sam?"
"The baby. I was pregnant when I was a teenager. I had a miscarriage then. Maybe I'm not fit to be a mother."
"Don't ever say that," he eyes me sternly, squeezing my hand in his. I glance up to see the doctor coming inside the room.
"How are you feeling, Samantha?"
"Tired," I answer.
"It's to be expected. It's not uncommon for this to have happened—especially after being sick or stressed out, and I've heard you've dealt with both situations recently."
I nod my head and sigh. "The nurse is going to come in and take your blood pressure again. Assuming everything is fine, you'll be on your way home in no time."
The doctor heads out of the room and I feel all hope crushed in an instant.
"I'm so sorry."
"Shhh," Jack silences me with a kiss. "This is not your fault."
"It is," I nod. "If I hadn't run off, this might never have happened."
"Sam," he eyes me seriously, "you did nothing wrong. You were sick. You couldn't have predicted or even changed that."
"I know but—" He silences me with his lips on mine.
"Don't." I push him away. I don't deserve his love because I feel like I've failed him. "Please, leave," I whisper, closing my eyes and forcing the tears away.
"Sam," his voice is soft.
"Please," I beg him, not wanting him to see me this way. I hear his footsteps leaving the room and I break down in quiet sobs.
************
Jack Malone POV:
Mount Sinai
March 9, 2004
10:35 p.m.
I head into the hallway, giving the nurse plenty of room and time with Samantha. Why does she insist on kicking me out and pushing me away now? I know she needs me, now more then ever. I let out a frustrated sigh, not sure what to do, or who to turn to.
I take a seat on the bench outside in the hallway, letting out a sigh. A few minutes pass by and the nurse comes out. "Samantha finished signing the release forms. I'm going to get a wheelchair and help you take her out to your car. Why don't you pull up around the east entrance for easy access?"
I nod my head and make my way to the car. I do as I'm told and pull up front to see the nurse helping Sam outside. I leave the car running and step outside into the chilly air, opening the car door and helping her inside.
"Thank you," I tell the nurse as she nods and I shut the door and head on over towards the driver's side.
"Can you take me home, Jack?"
"That's what I was planning on doing," I answer, pulling out into traffic.
"No, I meant my apartment."
"Sam--"
"Please," she whispers into the air, "I need some time alone."
"All right," I nod with a sigh. The entire drive to her place is in silence, and I swear I can hear the second hand on my watch ticking.
I pull in front of her building and help her out of the car and up the stairs.
"Thanks," she answers, as she keys the door and I follow her inside. She turns around to face me. "I can handle the rest."
"I want to help you into bed."
"Jack, I'm fine," she pleads with me, her eyes distant and filled with sorrow.
"Let me do this for you, Sam."
"Fine," she rolls her eyes, slightly perturbed. She doesn't even bother changing for bed.
She heads into the bedroom, slides beneath the covers and rolls onto her stomach, burying her head in the pillows.
I sit on the edge of her bed, my hand on her back. "Please leave."
"Sam."
"I can't deal with this right now."
"You have to deal with it sometime," I answer as I stand up and turn off the light. "Call me if you need anything at all."
She doesn't answer me and I glance back, deciding whether I should sleep on the couch or go home. I know if I stay and she's angry with me now, tomorrow it will only be worse.
I head out to my car, letting the cold air burn my lungs. I feel as though I can't breathe, and I can only imagine the pain and heartache this is for her. I wish I could do something to make it all right; I wish I could take the pain away; I wish for so much, but have little control over any of it.
Jack's Office
March 9, 2004
6:58 p.m.
I hear a soft knocking against the glass and glance up to wave Samantha to come inside.
"How'd it go?" I question.
"Oh, the usual." I eye her intently. "She starts to get somewhere and I run off," she laughs jokingly.
"You ready to head home?" I shut the file, standing up to grab my coat.
"Yeah, I need to get my jacket." She heads towards her cubicle and grabs what she needs for the night. Samantha joins me as I head out of the office, shutting the door behind me.
The ride down in the elevator is quiet and I take her hand in mine.
"Jack," she eyes me, pulling away. "We're at work."
"In the elevator," I glance at her seriously. "There aren't surveillance cameras in here. Only in the lobby and parking garage."
"What are you suggesting?" her eyes widen in amusement.
"Nothing," I laugh and the elevator doors open. We head for my car, and I unlock the passenger side door, helping her inside and waiting for her to buckle in before I shut the door and head for my side.
I start the car and turn on the heat, trying to warm us both. I head out of the parking garage and she eyes me. "We're going the wrong way."
"I thought we could use a night out for dinner." She lets out a breath. I'm not sure what's running through her mind. "Sam?"
"I'm still not really hungry," she answers, glancing out the window. "I don't see why we can't go out, though." She shrugs and closes her eyes, leaning the seat back to relax.
"I was thinking Italian. Does that sound all right for you?"
"Yeah," she answers with a yawn, and not long after we pull up front of the classy joint. "Jack?" she eyes me curiously.
"Come on." I pull up front and allow the valet to park the vehicle. I take her hand in mine, leading her inside.
"Jack." Her eyes roam around the restaurant and then back on me as I give the hostess our name and we're escorted to our table. "This is—," she lets out a breath, at a loss for words. She gives me a teary-eyed smile and I lean down and give her a soft kiss before heading into our small corner booth, which allows us to sit beside one another.
"I wanted this night to be perfect."
"Jack?" She eyes me curiously, not sure what I'm getting at.
"Sam, I love you."
"I love you too," she answers with a tired smile and squeezes my hand.
"I'm sorry I dragged you out."
"No, it's okay," she tells me. "I needed a night away from the house anyways."
"I saw Maria this afternoon."
"When?"
"During lunch—when you and Danny investigated our missing person."
"Oh," she runs her finger along the water glass. "So?"
"The divorce is finalized."
She nods with a soft smile. "That's good, I guess." She shrugs, not sure what to say.
"I wanted to celebrate."
"You did?" She eyes me curiously, not understanding. "You were married for over eleven years and you want to celebrate the end of your marriage?"
"We're having a baby. I'm happy; aren't you?"
"Jack," she pauses, her eyes watering. I open my arms, letting her move in to me as I embrace her. Her head falls to my chest. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" I run my hand along her back, feeling her tears soak through my shirt. "Whatever it is, it's okay," I tell her. What could have happened that would hurt her this much? Has she been with another man; is the baby not mine? I shake my head—no, she would never do that to me. Maybe it's just the emotional toll from running away.
"I'm sorry," she whispers one final time before she pulls away. In the dimly lit atmosphere, I can't tell that she's been crying, although I can see her pained eyes.
"Sam, I love you."
She nods her head. "Excuse me," she whispers before she takes off for the bathroom. I lean back against the cushions and let out a soft breath. I don't understand what's bothering her so much. Maybe it's the hormones from being pregnant?
She comes back to the table several minutes later. "Jack," her voice breaks, "I think something's wrong."
"What?" My eyes widen in confusion.
"The baby," she trembles in tears.
I leave some cash on the table, then I escort her to the car. "You're bleeding?"
Her face is flushed from crying and her lips are formed downwards in anguish. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as we wait for the valet to bring us the car.
"Come on." I carefully help her inside, shut the door and take off for the nearest hospital.
She covers her face with her hand, too afraid to look into my eyes to see my pain and sadness along with her own.
She's wheeled away on a gurney, and they tell me I can't come any farther behind the double doors.
The only thought that's running through my mind right now, is 'it's my fault.' I shouldn't have let her come into work today. She should have taken another day off, been allowed to rest and recuperate the entire week if needed. What have I done?
**************
Samantha Spade POV:
Mount Sinai
March 9, 2004
8:15 p.m.
I barely register what's going on. This experience is all too surreal as it uncovers before me. I close my eyes as I'm wheeled away, tears dripping down my cheeks and I feel my heart rate soaring.
"Samantha, we need you to relax."
"The baby," I whisper between sobs.
"We're doing everything we can. You need to calm down, though."
"Okay," I nod, biting down on my lower lip as I close my eyes, willing this nightmare to go away.
I feel myself being pulled into a light slumber as I try to mumble out for Jack.
"Sam." I hear Jack's voice and feel his hand on mine. My eyes slowly open, remembering the scene that unfolded not so long ago.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, feeling him lean down to press a soft kiss to my forehead.
"You have nothing to be sorry about."
"What did the doctors say?"
"It was a miscarriage," he answers with a sigh of defeat.
"Oh, Jack." I feel tears welling in my eyes.
"There's nothing you could have done differently," he reassures me, his hands running softly through my hair.
"This isn't the first time."
"What are you talking about, Sam?"
"The baby. I was pregnant when I was a teenager. I had a miscarriage then. Maybe I'm not fit to be a mother."
"Don't ever say that," he eyes me sternly, squeezing my hand in his. I glance up to see the doctor coming inside the room.
"How are you feeling, Samantha?"
"Tired," I answer.
"It's to be expected. It's not uncommon for this to have happened—especially after being sick or stressed out, and I've heard you've dealt with both situations recently."
I nod my head and sigh. "The nurse is going to come in and take your blood pressure again. Assuming everything is fine, you'll be on your way home in no time."
The doctor heads out of the room and I feel all hope crushed in an instant.
"I'm so sorry."
"Shhh," Jack silences me with a kiss. "This is not your fault."
"It is," I nod. "If I hadn't run off, this might never have happened."
"Sam," he eyes me seriously, "you did nothing wrong. You were sick. You couldn't have predicted or even changed that."
"I know but—" He silences me with his lips on mine.
"Don't." I push him away. I don't deserve his love because I feel like I've failed him. "Please, leave," I whisper, closing my eyes and forcing the tears away.
"Sam," his voice is soft.
"Please," I beg him, not wanting him to see me this way. I hear his footsteps leaving the room and I break down in quiet sobs.
************
Jack Malone POV:
Mount Sinai
March 9, 2004
10:35 p.m.
I head into the hallway, giving the nurse plenty of room and time with Samantha. Why does she insist on kicking me out and pushing me away now? I know she needs me, now more then ever. I let out a frustrated sigh, not sure what to do, or who to turn to.
I take a seat on the bench outside in the hallway, letting out a sigh. A few minutes pass by and the nurse comes out. "Samantha finished signing the release forms. I'm going to get a wheelchair and help you take her out to your car. Why don't you pull up around the east entrance for easy access?"
I nod my head and make my way to the car. I do as I'm told and pull up front to see the nurse helping Sam outside. I leave the car running and step outside into the chilly air, opening the car door and helping her inside.
"Thank you," I tell the nurse as she nods and I shut the door and head on over towards the driver's side.
"Can you take me home, Jack?"
"That's what I was planning on doing," I answer, pulling out into traffic.
"No, I meant my apartment."
"Sam--"
"Please," she whispers into the air, "I need some time alone."
"All right," I nod with a sigh. The entire drive to her place is in silence, and I swear I can hear the second hand on my watch ticking.
I pull in front of her building and help her out of the car and up the stairs.
"Thanks," she answers, as she keys the door and I follow her inside. She turns around to face me. "I can handle the rest."
"I want to help you into bed."
"Jack, I'm fine," she pleads with me, her eyes distant and filled with sorrow.
"Let me do this for you, Sam."
"Fine," she rolls her eyes, slightly perturbed. She doesn't even bother changing for bed.
She heads into the bedroom, slides beneath the covers and rolls onto her stomach, burying her head in the pillows.
I sit on the edge of her bed, my hand on her back. "Please leave."
"Sam."
"I can't deal with this right now."
"You have to deal with it sometime," I answer as I stand up and turn off the light. "Call me if you need anything at all."
She doesn't answer me and I glance back, deciding whether I should sleep on the couch or go home. I know if I stay and she's angry with me now, tomorrow it will only be worse.
I head out to my car, letting the cold air burn my lungs. I feel as though I can't breathe, and I can only imagine the pain and heartache this is for her. I wish I could do something to make it all right; I wish I could take the pain away; I wish for so much, but have little control over any of it.