Samantha Spade POV:
Samantha Spade Residence
March 10, 2004
7:15 a.m.
The morning light is shining in as I roll over and reach for the phone. I dial Van Doren and tell her I won't be able to make it in. She doesn't ask why and I don't bother giving her an explanation.
I pull the blankets over my head, not wanting to see the sunlight just yet, and I fall into a restless slumber.
"Samantha!" I hear a loud banging against the outside door and I shove the pillow over my head to muffle the sounds.
Seconds later, I hear my cell phone ring and I grab it without looking and find the off button. I toss it to the floor, not wanting to speak with anyone.
"Sam!" I groan as I hear Jack's voice.
"Go away," I answer, hoping he can hear me. I don't want to deal with him right now.
He doesn't understand any of this, and he won't.
I hear footsteps in my bedroom and roll my eyes. What did Jack do to get in? Ask the superintendent or pick the lock?
I reach for the remote, tossing it at the door as I hear footsteps entering.
I watch as he dodges the remote flying through the air with a look of horror on his face. He eyes me with a laugh, "trying to kill me?" he teases, before picking the remote up and placing it on the nightstand.
"I thought you were Jack."
"No, he's out in the living room. He was worried you might kill him. I didn't think he was serious."
Danny approaches the bed and I roll onto my side, sitting up slightly to face him. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm so sorry about the baby." I fall into his embrace, not able to hide my tears any longer. "You'll have another chance."
"I don't want another chance," I answer. "I can't take this," I shrug, rolling my eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.
"Samantha?" His voice is soft as I pull back. "A lot of women have miscarriages. It's not your fault."
"If I wouldn't have been sick," I pause letting out a soft sigh. "I know, there's nothing I could have done differently." I eye Danny as he nods.
"Jack's worried about you. We all are."
"I haven't even been gone an entire day." I glance towards the clock, seeing it's all ready quarter past two in the afternoon. Since when did the day fly by so quickly?
"We want you to talk with Lisa, now so more than ever."
"You're sounding like Jack," I groan.
"I heard that," he answers from the other room. I roll my eyes and Danny stands up to shut the bedroom door.
"I don't understand why you're forcing him out of your life. You need him and he needs you. It's a simple fact."
"I can't face him right now, Danny."
"Samantha," he takes my hands in his as he sits down beside me. "This is not your fault," he repeats.
"I know," I nod, "but seeing him just brings back all these emotions and feelings I've been having, about being pregnant, and the baby."
Danny wipes the tears from my eyes and nods his head. "I know, Samantha. You're going to have to face up to them."
"I'm not sure I can."
"You have to come back to work eventually."
I shake my head no. "That transfer sounds good right about now."
"Samantha," Danny eyes me seriously, "you're not the only one suffering. Jack needs you right now, almost as much as you need him."
I let out a soft breath and feel Danny's arms enveloping me in a hug. "Thanks." I eye him with a sigh. "You can let Jack in, but tell him he's not to mention any of it."
"That's not a good way to deal with it."
"Please," I plead with him.
He nods his head, and heads for the door. "Call me if you need to talk, or want me to come by."
"I will," I answer, watching as he heads out of my bedroom, and Jack comes inside.
*****************
Jack Malone POV:
Samantha Spade Residence
March 10, 2004
2:35 p.m.
I carefully step foot into her bedroom, afraid of how she'll respond to seeing me. Danny has warned me not to speak about the miscarriage and I can see why. Samantha looks a mess. Her eyes are swollen, her face is red and she groans when her eyes catch mine.
"Hey," I whisper, hoping she won't turn her back on me.
"What'd Van Doren say when you told her you were coming here?"
"I didn't," I laugh softly. "She thinks Danny and I are out investigating a lead. Danny's on his way there and I figured you might need some company."
"I'm all right," she nods, trying to convince herself she's strong and can handle this ordeal alone.
"Can I sit down?" I slowly approach her bed, and she pulls back the sheets.
"If you're not afraid of a little tears; they're damp."
"It's okay." I slide out of my shoes and slip in bed beside her. She's sitting up, not allowing me to hold her. I roll onto my side to face her.
"I just keep thinking, if I never called you," she shakes her head, "you wouldn't have had to know."
"Why wouldn't I want to know?" I question.
"It's just a lot to deal with," she answers with a sigh.
"Samantha, why don't you meet with Lisa again?"
"And say what?" she eyes me intently.
"Tell her how you're feeling."
"I don't want to talk about it—" she responds, "with anyone."
"You have to sooner or later."
"No, I don't." She eyes me sternly as she grabs the remote and turns on the television. She flips through the channels, ignoring me completely.
I let out a soft breath as I realize how frozen she is beside me. She's normally relaxed but right now she's a sheet of ice, ready to break at any moment.
"Sam," I whisper her name gently from my lips. "I'm worried about you."
Her head turns sharply, meeting my gaze. "Shouldn't you be on your way back to the office? You don't want Van Doren to know where you've been."
"To hell with Van Doren," I answer. "You're all that matters to me."
"Don't," she warns me, giving me the cold shoulder as she turns the television up louder. I suppose it's good—she hasn't kicked me out yet. I can tell that will be the next step if I upset her any more.
She stares at the screen, but I can tell she's not paying any attention to what's on.
"Jack," her voice is soft and she continues to stare straight ahead.
"What?" I question.
"I think I need a vacation."
"That's probably a good idea. You can unwind, relax—"
"No," she shakes her head.
"What do you mean, Sam?"
"A vacation from us—a break."
"Is that what you really want?" I eye her as I see tears welling in her eyes.
"I think it's what I need right now. At least until I get things figured out on my own."
"Samantha—" She shakes her head no, keeping me from going on.
"I realized I'm not ready to be a mother and that includes to your children," she eyes me with a sigh.
"You don't have to be their mother," I say as I take her hand in mine.
"I can't do this, not right now anyways. I've considered transferring, but I'd rather stay here. I need some amount of order and sanity in my life."
"Sam." She glances down at our hands.
"Please don't fight me on this. It gives us both time to work things out; you with your girls and me with—" She doesn't finish the sentence, just lets it hang in the air.
"When can I expect you back at work?"
"Tomorrow," she breathes out a sigh. "Please don't tell Vivian or Martin about—"
"I won't," I reassure her.
"Thanks," she whispers and leans back against the pillows, closing her eyes. "Would you mind turning off the television on your way out?"
"You want anything to eat?"
"I'll get it myself in a little while," she answers. I flip off the television and glance down at her face. Even with her eyes closed, she looks haunted by what's happened.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to her head. "Sweet dreams," I tell her, heading out and back to work.
Samantha Spade Residence
March 10, 2004
7:15 a.m.
The morning light is shining in as I roll over and reach for the phone. I dial Van Doren and tell her I won't be able to make it in. She doesn't ask why and I don't bother giving her an explanation.
I pull the blankets over my head, not wanting to see the sunlight just yet, and I fall into a restless slumber.
"Samantha!" I hear a loud banging against the outside door and I shove the pillow over my head to muffle the sounds.
Seconds later, I hear my cell phone ring and I grab it without looking and find the off button. I toss it to the floor, not wanting to speak with anyone.
"Sam!" I groan as I hear Jack's voice.
"Go away," I answer, hoping he can hear me. I don't want to deal with him right now.
He doesn't understand any of this, and he won't.
I hear footsteps in my bedroom and roll my eyes. What did Jack do to get in? Ask the superintendent or pick the lock?
I reach for the remote, tossing it at the door as I hear footsteps entering.
I watch as he dodges the remote flying through the air with a look of horror on his face. He eyes me with a laugh, "trying to kill me?" he teases, before picking the remote up and placing it on the nightstand.
"I thought you were Jack."
"No, he's out in the living room. He was worried you might kill him. I didn't think he was serious."
Danny approaches the bed and I roll onto my side, sitting up slightly to face him. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm so sorry about the baby." I fall into his embrace, not able to hide my tears any longer. "You'll have another chance."
"I don't want another chance," I answer. "I can't take this," I shrug, rolling my eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.
"Samantha?" His voice is soft as I pull back. "A lot of women have miscarriages. It's not your fault."
"If I wouldn't have been sick," I pause letting out a soft sigh. "I know, there's nothing I could have done differently." I eye Danny as he nods.
"Jack's worried about you. We all are."
"I haven't even been gone an entire day." I glance towards the clock, seeing it's all ready quarter past two in the afternoon. Since when did the day fly by so quickly?
"We want you to talk with Lisa, now so more than ever."
"You're sounding like Jack," I groan.
"I heard that," he answers from the other room. I roll my eyes and Danny stands up to shut the bedroom door.
"I don't understand why you're forcing him out of your life. You need him and he needs you. It's a simple fact."
"I can't face him right now, Danny."
"Samantha," he takes my hands in his as he sits down beside me. "This is not your fault," he repeats.
"I know," I nod, "but seeing him just brings back all these emotions and feelings I've been having, about being pregnant, and the baby."
Danny wipes the tears from my eyes and nods his head. "I know, Samantha. You're going to have to face up to them."
"I'm not sure I can."
"You have to come back to work eventually."
I shake my head no. "That transfer sounds good right about now."
"Samantha," Danny eyes me seriously, "you're not the only one suffering. Jack needs you right now, almost as much as you need him."
I let out a soft breath and feel Danny's arms enveloping me in a hug. "Thanks." I eye him with a sigh. "You can let Jack in, but tell him he's not to mention any of it."
"That's not a good way to deal with it."
"Please," I plead with him.
He nods his head, and heads for the door. "Call me if you need to talk, or want me to come by."
"I will," I answer, watching as he heads out of my bedroom, and Jack comes inside.
*****************
Jack Malone POV:
Samantha Spade Residence
March 10, 2004
2:35 p.m.
I carefully step foot into her bedroom, afraid of how she'll respond to seeing me. Danny has warned me not to speak about the miscarriage and I can see why. Samantha looks a mess. Her eyes are swollen, her face is red and she groans when her eyes catch mine.
"Hey," I whisper, hoping she won't turn her back on me.
"What'd Van Doren say when you told her you were coming here?"
"I didn't," I laugh softly. "She thinks Danny and I are out investigating a lead. Danny's on his way there and I figured you might need some company."
"I'm all right," she nods, trying to convince herself she's strong and can handle this ordeal alone.
"Can I sit down?" I slowly approach her bed, and she pulls back the sheets.
"If you're not afraid of a little tears; they're damp."
"It's okay." I slide out of my shoes and slip in bed beside her. She's sitting up, not allowing me to hold her. I roll onto my side to face her.
"I just keep thinking, if I never called you," she shakes her head, "you wouldn't have had to know."
"Why wouldn't I want to know?" I question.
"It's just a lot to deal with," she answers with a sigh.
"Samantha, why don't you meet with Lisa again?"
"And say what?" she eyes me intently.
"Tell her how you're feeling."
"I don't want to talk about it—" she responds, "with anyone."
"You have to sooner or later."
"No, I don't." She eyes me sternly as she grabs the remote and turns on the television. She flips through the channels, ignoring me completely.
I let out a soft breath as I realize how frozen she is beside me. She's normally relaxed but right now she's a sheet of ice, ready to break at any moment.
"Sam," I whisper her name gently from my lips. "I'm worried about you."
Her head turns sharply, meeting my gaze. "Shouldn't you be on your way back to the office? You don't want Van Doren to know where you've been."
"To hell with Van Doren," I answer. "You're all that matters to me."
"Don't," she warns me, giving me the cold shoulder as she turns the television up louder. I suppose it's good—she hasn't kicked me out yet. I can tell that will be the next step if I upset her any more.
She stares at the screen, but I can tell she's not paying any attention to what's on.
"Jack," her voice is soft and she continues to stare straight ahead.
"What?" I question.
"I think I need a vacation."
"That's probably a good idea. You can unwind, relax—"
"No," she shakes her head.
"What do you mean, Sam?"
"A vacation from us—a break."
"Is that what you really want?" I eye her as I see tears welling in her eyes.
"I think it's what I need right now. At least until I get things figured out on my own."
"Samantha—" She shakes her head no, keeping me from going on.
"I realized I'm not ready to be a mother and that includes to your children," she eyes me with a sigh.
"You don't have to be their mother," I say as I take her hand in mine.
"I can't do this, not right now anyways. I've considered transferring, but I'd rather stay here. I need some amount of order and sanity in my life."
"Sam." She glances down at our hands.
"Please don't fight me on this. It gives us both time to work things out; you with your girls and me with—" She doesn't finish the sentence, just lets it hang in the air.
"When can I expect you back at work?"
"Tomorrow," she breathes out a sigh. "Please don't tell Vivian or Martin about—"
"I won't," I reassure her.
"Thanks," she whispers and leans back against the pillows, closing her eyes. "Would you mind turning off the television on your way out?"
"You want anything to eat?"
"I'll get it myself in a little while," she answers. I flip off the television and glance down at her face. Even with her eyes closed, she looks haunted by what's happened.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to her head. "Sweet dreams," I tell her, heading out and back to work.