Author's Notes: This is another angsty chapter but we are heading towards the happy ending, although I'm afraid instead of 50 chapters we'll end nearer the 55 chapter mark. I appreciate the reviews, please if you've been following the story and review. Reviews are appreciated and make me type updates faster.
Part 46
Age: 34 Years 7 Months
Samantha stood beside Jack as he screamed his grief to the heavens. Although she longed to wrap her arms around him and comfort him, she didn't imagine he would wish her anywhere near him after this. Seeing the grief etched on his face, Samantha's heart shattered. She remembered feeling that way when she'd lost Jack and on the day of their son's birth and death. When he turned his face towards her and demanded she tell him the rest, Samantha blinked back her tears.
"They weren't going to give our baby a decent burial. Despite having a legal death certificate, my Father and your parents wanted to dispose of our baby as nothing more than medical waste," Samantha murmured.
Noting Jack's look of horror, she affirmed, "They actually intended to do so and would have if I hadn't stopped them. After they'd finished the procedure, the straps were removed and I demanded they let me hold our son at least once."
"What- what did he- how did he look?" Jack struggled to inquire.
"He-" Samantha choked out and began to sob.
Sinking to her knees beside Jack, she looked at him and answered, "Small, he was so small, but he was perfect. Ten of the tiniest fingers and toes. When he- when he died, his eyes w-w-were o-o-open."
"Blue like yours?"
"No," she gave him a bittersweet smile. "Our baby had your eyes. I'd been praying every night that our baby would have your eyes, that I would have that part of you back with me."
"What happened after that?" Jack asked as he stared into Samantha's eyes.
"They tried to take Jack Konstantine away from me, but I wouldn't let them. I screamed at them that our baby would be buried properly or I would go to the police and every tabloid that would listen to me. Your Mother and my Father started arguing. She told him he wouldn't get paid unless the matter remained secret."
"PAID!" Jack shouted in outrage. "My Mother PAID your Father to kill our child!"
Shaking her head Samantha answered, "I don't know. I know your parents paid my Father to remove the baby along with the doctor. But all four of them were clustered around him when they cut the cord without tying it off. Which one actually killed our baby, I don't know. All I know is that I heard him cry. At first his cries were loud and then got softer and softer until-"
Samantha broke off sobbing and wrapped her arms around herself. Rocking back and forth she tried to compose herself enough to speak but couldn't. As she trembled with emotion, she was shocked when Jack's arms went around her. For a moment she allowed herself to draw comfort from his touch then pulled away slightly and looked at him.
To her shock he continued to hold onto her as he pleaded, "Tell me the rest. I need to hear the rest of it."
"After the baby had died and they had stitched me up and let me hold the baby, your Mother demanded that my Father throw, as she put it, the bastard out. My Father tried to take the baby from me, but I wouldn't let go. I held on to him tightly and threatened them. The doctor who'd treated you left and then your parents and my Father started screaming at me and at one another."
Samantha looked sadly at the gravestone and continued, "It felt like they yelled at me for hours before they finally agreed to let me have a proper burial. Your parents agreed to buy the plot next to your grave and my Father bought the cheapest casket they had."
"What about the service? What was it like?"
"There wasn't any service, the cemetery workers placed the casket in the ground and I knelt and placed flowers on the grave. I spent several hours praying and talking to you and our baby. I doubt I made a lot of sense," she confessed sadly.
"At least you were there," Jack responded miserably. Then comforted, "I'm sure that you made sense or at least the sentiment of it. But why no service?
"Your Mother forbid it and my Father wasn't about to defy her because he wanted his damn scientific grant. There wasn't a a headstone either for a long time. Partially because of money and partially because I forgot."
"You forgot?" Jack asked in disbelief.
"After our baby's death, my Father started pumping me full of drugs and forcing me through what essentially were brainwashing sessions. Remember what transpired in Otis? Well, he-" she trailed off.
Oh God! Jack thought. How could Walter Anderson do that to his own Daughter? As though killing his grandchild wasn't bad enough, he put Samantha through God only knew how many hours of brainwashing and hypno-therapy, while pumping her full of mind numbing drugs to make her pliant. In that moment, Jack couldn't decide which was worse, that her Father killed their Son or that he would hurt his Samantha.
"Tell me Samantha."
Uncertainly she said, "I struggled not to give in. Despite the pain I didn't want to forget you or our baby. Once when the sessions started working, he took my wedding ring off and it undid everything. He tried it again and finally figured out that as long as I had my wedding ring I would remain pliant, but somehow the instant it was removed, I would remember. It took him almost two years of intensive work to make me forget and I was returned to my Aunt."
It hurt to think of his Samantha forgetting him and Jack asked, "When did you start to remember me again?"
"Prom, Angel and I were in the dress shop and she jokingly put a bridal veil on me, it clicked and I had a sense of having worn a wedding veil and could hear your voice in my mind. On prom night, Tom asked about the ring, my Father had told me it was a gift from my mother, A for Anderson. Tom commented that it looked like and Alpha symbol and from there bits and pieces started coming back. I could remember parts but not all. It made no sense, I thought I would remember getting married and dismissed it. But-"
"But-" Jack prompted.
This was so damned hard, Samantha thought. Reliving her past pain so Jack could understand wasn't easy. Why was he still holding her? Didn't he understand, their baby died because she didn't fight harder? Both of them were still crying on and off, and Samantha had hesitantly wrapped her arms around Jack when he continued to hold her. Moving her hand, she held her Alpha ring up.
"On the night Tom proposed and I took my ring off, all memories of you came back. I believed you were dead and had nothing to live for. Tom loved me and I thought that maybe I could learn to love him, so I put your ring on a chain around my neck and have worn it ever since. Less than a week after regaining my memory of you I came here and started paying the groundskeeper to put roses on your grave every week. Our Son's grave had no marker so I didn't remember him," Samantha told him and ended in a sob.
"Sshhh," Jack comforted vainly as his tears mingled with hers.
Weeping on his shoulder she demanded, "How could I forget my own child?"
"I don't know how any of this could happen," Jack answered. "How any God could call himself merciful and allow even half of what has transpired is beyond me. Did you love Tom?"
Shaking her head, Samantha answered, "No. I mean somewhat as a friend but from our wedding night onward I never felt anything in the way of attraction."
"Ah, I believe that's the night I went to kill my Father," Jack interjected. "That was going to be my first murder."
"Instead it was Janice Fletcher. Well, you still were doing the world a favor," she reassured him. "You know there was once or twice that I wanted you to be Jack-Of-All-Trades because I wanted you to be alive so badly. I think the lowest point was a bit later when I gave birth to Chloe-"
"And remembered our Son," Jack finished as understanding dawned on him. "That was what you were screaming about."
"You were there?" Samantha asked in disbelief.
But why should she be surprised, Samantha thought. Jack had followed her every movement, of course Jack would be there on such an important day. So many years he'd followed her and loved her. Always disguised and hiding in the shadows, Jack had been completely devoted to her. So many years of patience and dedication and all she could offer him was an account of how their child died.
"Yes, Samantha. I was there, disguised as a janitor. While you were sleeping I brought you a rose. It scared me when I heard you screaming, I'd read your chart and knew you were having a C-section and should have felt no pain."
"Only in my heart," Samantha answered. "After that I couldn't bear the sight or sound of Chloe because all I could see was the child that should have been. I didn't want Tom's baby, I wanted yours. After that I slipped away and purchased a headstone with cash so Tom wouldn't know."
As Jack looked at the headstone his heart ached for his son, for his Samantha and for himself. While he knew life was never fair, this was too much to ask of one human being to bear. From his stomach to the top of the head he felt like one big emotional knot and ached physically from his emotional pain. Despite his grief, he worried as he looked at Samantha, she seemed so distant.
"Samantha, why are you pulling away from me? I know I am largely at fault."
"Your fault?" she stared at him in disbelief.
Of course it was his fault, Jack's mind screamed. If he had warned Samantha about his parents, she wouldn't have fallen prey to them. If he'd come to her sooner, he could have comforted her when she needed him. Their Son was dead and he had failed her. How could it not be his fault?
"Because if I'd told you about my parents, Jack Konstantine would be alive and you would have never suffered so much. And if I'd come for you the second I got back from Russia I could have been there for you. You must hate me for failing you. I've been a failure all my life Samantha, you made me feel like I wasn't and then I had to prove you right by failing you this way," Jack admitted miserably.
"What? No!" Samantha exclaimed. "Jack this is all my fault, I should have thought more and fought harder. I'm why our Son is dead! I was so damn happy that you were alive I had pushed the grief aside for a few minutes. But every day of my life I live with how I've failed you. I deserve whatever punishment you wish when we leave. Torture and kill me, I won't fight you. The only thing I ask is that you look after our baby's grave."
"Torture you? Kill you?" Jack gasped. "Samantha this is my fault!"
"No it's not!" Samantha wept. "You didn't know Jack. I know you would have been here the minute I knew I was pregnant if you could have. If you'd even suspected you would have warned me. And my own Father made their plan possible! Oh Jack! Jack darling you're not at fault! I am!"
Holding her tightly, Jack cried, "No my Samantha. You had no idea your Father would betray you and were strapped to the table. If you hadn't loved our baby you wouldn't have fought for a proper grave for him. No Samantha love, you are in no way responsible."
Looking into his eyes, Samantha could see Jack was sincere and found herself collapsing against him sobbing. While she still felt guilt, his belief in her helped to ease it slightly. If Jack judged her innocent, could she feel that way one day? Samantha wondered. Perhaps one day she would believe that, but for now she was simply grateful not to see Jack's loving eyes look on her with hatred.
"I meant what I said about allowing you to kill me," Samantha murmured.
"Did you also mean what you said about never leaving me?" Jack asked hesitantly.
When Samantha nodded, Jack kissed her tearstained face and pleaded, "Just hold onto me Samantha and don't ever let go."
"I won't Jack, never ever."
Tightly embracing, they shared their grief and wept as they clung desperately to one another...
