Samantha didn't come back and he wondered why. A week passed and still she hadn't stopped by.
Maria was getting antsy for some reason, she was there more and more and when he was pretending to be asleep, he could hear her discussing with the doctors when he would be allowed to leave. He dreaded the day. It was almost like she didn't want him in New York. He couldn't figure that one out.
Two weeks after waking up, the doctors came into his room and announced that he could go home. He groaned.
Of course, she was his wife and he had an obligation to her--so he went. Instead of driving to some apartment in the city though, they went straight to the airport. He frowned as she pulled the car into the airport parking lot.
"What's going on?" he questioned. "I thought--I was told we live in New York."
"Not anymore." She got out of the car, going around to the passenger side and helping him out.
He was still sore and he occasionally found it hard to walk, but all-in-all, he was significantly better.
"Maria! Stop." He leaned against the car and held her shoulders, keeping her in place. "Tell me what's going on."
"We moved to Chicago," she explained. "The day after you got shot."
That didn't make sense. Why--why would they move? Samantha had said that he transfered but he never thought it was out of New York, he thought it was just to a different team.
He didn't comment, just followed Maria into the airport and towards the right flight. Apparently she had scheduled them leaving the hospital and arriving at the airport perfectly. They got right onto the plane.
Even though he was upset and confused, he couldn't help smiling. Maria frowned, glancing over at him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Is there something wrong with smiling?"
"No. You just never smile."
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "I can't remember flying in a plane, it's a cool experience."
She nodded and fished a book out of her bag, beginning to read. He yawned, feeling the plane start to fly smoothly. He reclined his chair and layed back, letting his eyes close and sleep come over him.
-
Her hands were shaking and he glanced over at her, smiling.
"Stop it! It's not funny."
Jack shook his head, reaching over and holding her hand. "It's alright, nothing is going to happen."
She nodded, taking a deep breath and holding his hand just a little tighter. "I don't know why this case had to involve going to Chicago---I hate flying."
"You haven't ever flown before," he pointed out.
"So." They hit turbulance and she grabbed onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his neck.
"It's alright," he whispered, running his hand through her hair. "I promise you, Sam, it's going to be alright."
-
To be continued...
Maria was getting antsy for some reason, she was there more and more and when he was pretending to be asleep, he could hear her discussing with the doctors when he would be allowed to leave. He dreaded the day. It was almost like she didn't want him in New York. He couldn't figure that one out.
Two weeks after waking up, the doctors came into his room and announced that he could go home. He groaned.
Of course, she was his wife and he had an obligation to her--so he went. Instead of driving to some apartment in the city though, they went straight to the airport. He frowned as she pulled the car into the airport parking lot.
"What's going on?" he questioned. "I thought--I was told we live in New York."
"Not anymore." She got out of the car, going around to the passenger side and helping him out.
He was still sore and he occasionally found it hard to walk, but all-in-all, he was significantly better.
"Maria! Stop." He leaned against the car and held her shoulders, keeping her in place. "Tell me what's going on."
"We moved to Chicago," she explained. "The day after you got shot."
That didn't make sense. Why--why would they move? Samantha had said that he transfered but he never thought it was out of New York, he thought it was just to a different team.
He didn't comment, just followed Maria into the airport and towards the right flight. Apparently she had scheduled them leaving the hospital and arriving at the airport perfectly. They got right onto the plane.
Even though he was upset and confused, he couldn't help smiling. Maria frowned, glancing over at him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Is there something wrong with smiling?"
"No. You just never smile."
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "I can't remember flying in a plane, it's a cool experience."
She nodded and fished a book out of her bag, beginning to read. He yawned, feeling the plane start to fly smoothly. He reclined his chair and layed back, letting his eyes close and sleep come over him.
-
Her hands were shaking and he glanced over at her, smiling.
"Stop it! It's not funny."
Jack shook his head, reaching over and holding her hand. "It's alright, nothing is going to happen."
She nodded, taking a deep breath and holding his hand just a little tighter. "I don't know why this case had to involve going to Chicago---I hate flying."
"You haven't ever flown before," he pointed out.
"So." They hit turbulance and she grabbed onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his neck.
"It's alright," he whispered, running his hand through her hair. "I promise you, Sam, it's going to be alright."
-
To be continued...