Author's Notes: Sorry about how long it's been since the last update. There's more story coming, this is going to be about as long as Death of Innocence was. Reviews are appreciated and inspire me to type faster.

Part 5

Jack roused about two hours later and watched Samantha as she slept. She hadn't moved and still had her arms tightly around him. Many times Jack had fantasized about waking to his Samantha, but under the circumstances he felt disgusted. He longed for her to cling to him out of love, not fear. As he lay silently, his eyes darted about and for the first time ever, Jack felt uncomfortable being surrounded by the images of her smiling face. After all these years of dreaming of Samantha, he knew she could never be his now.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Jack extricated himself from Samantha's embrace and he walked out onto the balcony. His cigarettes and whiskey were still there from last night. He lit a cigarette and shivered in the cool air. Beside him the whiskey beckoned temptingly, he longed to forget his pain; but Samantha would need him today and he wouldn't fail her again. His pain was of no consequence, all that mattered was helping his Samantha and avenging her. A noise broke his reverie and he rushed back inside, in the bathroom he heard the sound of Samantha retching and then crying.

Gently knocking, he asked, "Samantha, can I come in?"

Sitting on the floor by the toilet, Sam sobbed her consent, "Okay."

Jack entered and walked to Samantha. Bending down, he was about to try and comfort her when she lurched over the bowl and started vomiting again. Hot tears fell from Samantha's eyes, as she finally sat back helplessly, holding her stomach. Throwing up in front of any man was bad enough, but after last night facing this last indignity in front of Jack was too much. As he helped her up to her feet to rinse her mouth in the sink she cried even harder. For several minutes Samantha stood gripping the sink steadied by Jack.

"Why do I have to have the flu, now of all times?" she wailed in protest as she turned around.

"It's not the flu Samantha, it's a side effect from the levonorgesterel," Jack replied.

"Side effect? Thanks a lot Jack!" she snapped waspishly.

"It's better than an unwanted pregnancy, Sam," he said softly. Moving towards the door, Jack murmured, "I'm going to see about making you some tea."

Samantha wanted to argue with him but she couldn't. The thought of an unwanted reminder of her attackers was too horrible to contemplate. When she'd scolded him, she'd seen the hurt expression on his face. She wanted to stop him, but her stomach had other ideas as she started to throw up again. After she finished, she slumped over limply. Lying on the bathroom floor, Samantha wrapped her arms around her stomach as dry heaves began to wrack her body. She couldn't remember having ever felt worse in her life than she had in the past twenty-four hours.

Jack appeared in the doorway with a cup of tea and knelt down, "Try drinking this slowly Sam, it might help a little."

His calling her Sam instead of Samantha felt odd. She knew she'd hurt him earlier and his solicitous but distant manner made her feel guilty. What was wrong with her? She'd been raped last night and now she felt badly because her stalker didn't use his pet name for her. Samantha chided herself and reached out clumsily for the tea. Her hand wrapped around the mug and then it seemed to slip through her fingers. The hot tea spilled on Jack's hand and the mug shattered on the floor.

"Are you all right? Did you get burned?" Jack asked anxiously. When she didn't answer, he pressed, "Samantha did you get-"

She'd burned him and his first thought was her safety she realized as he spoke. When Jack said her name, Samantha fell apart. She began to cry and cut his question off by wrapping her arms around him. At the moment, Jack was the only familiar and comforting thing she had to hold onto. Wordlessly, Jack stood up and picked Samantha up from amid the shards of the mug. Moving out of the bathroom, Jack walked to the bed and laid Samantha down. For several minutes she continued to cling to him and wouldn't let go. When her grip loosened at last, Jack moved to clean up the bathroom, but Samantha stopped him.

"Jack, wait. I-" she trailed off. Softly Samantha apologized, "I'm sorry for earlier. I'd forgotten about the side effects of the pills and I shouldn't have-"

Holding a hand up Jack shook his head. "It's all right Samantha. Big mean serial killer guy here, remember?"

Despite her nausea, Samantha laughed slightly and Jack left to clean up the bathroom. By the time he finished, she had laid down. The cramping and nausea hadn't gotten any better as she laid clutching her midsection. Trembling from dry heaves, the pain was a cross between the worst menstrual cramps she ever experienced, labor pains and the flu. Between the side effects of the day after pill and the raw stinging feeling between her legs, Samantha felt like screaming but was too weak to do so.

After Jack finished cleaning up the bathroom, he disappeared into the kitchenette and moments later reappeared with a tray with another mug of tea on it. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, he placed the tray on the stool he'd sat on to examine Samantha the previous night and gently propped her head up with some pillows. When he brought the mug of tea to her mouth she obediently took a sip.

"I know you're feeling very badly at the moment," Jack told her gently. "But you're going to have to make some decisions and then a couple phone calls. Last night you didn't wish your friends to know or to see you. Have you changed your mind?"

Sam shook her head vehemently. Right now she thought if she saw Bailey's kind eyes filled with pity or Angel looking at her with sadness, she'd break. She felt dirty and while her friends wouldn't feel that way, she felt a strong sense of humiliation as in the back of her mind the words of her attackers were repeated over and over. And worse still, she didn't want Chloe to have a crash course in such unpleasant adult subject matter. Chloe knew mommy dealt with bad people, she didn't deserve to have her innocence stripped away and hear about what happened to her mother.

"Your bruises should heal in roughly two weeks. I can't say for certain because I don't know how quickly your body is going to recuperate. I don't think it will work for you to call in sick for that length of time, your friends would worry and want to see you."

"True," Sam agreed.

Reaching for the cell phone from the nightstand that she had used the night before, Jack handed it to her and suggested, "Call Bailey and then call Angel. Tell them that a friend of yours in Savannah is sick and that you need to take care of them. Since they still believe Lucas is Jack, they won't worry about security for you."

"But what if they want the phone number?" Samantha fretted.

Jack took a piece of paper from the tray and handed it to her. "This is my phone line at my mother's house in Savannah. I'll forward the calls to here so they may call you and not be any the wiser that you're still in Atlanta."

Then Jack rose and walked away from the bedroom area through the living area and out onto the balcony. Sam watched him walk away and felt slightly odd having him leave her alone. Starting to punch in Bailey's office number at the VCTF, she realized Jack had left her alone not for privacy but to give her a chance to turn him in. The gesture was oddly touching, maybe it was what she should do, but she couldn't.

Right now, Jack was the only familiar thing in her life that brought her comfort and didn't hurt to have him around. There was no doubt in her mind that he would protect her at any cost and feeling safe was a something Samantha needed. Although he was clearly upset about her rape and willing to do anything to help her, Jack had done nothing to try and exploit the situation. If anything he was rather distant and seemed to be avoiding her.

Sam gave both Bailey and Angel the excuse that Jack suggested, along with the phone number that he gave her. It was hard to sound normal, especially as sick as she felt but she did her best and any abnormal tone her mentor and her best friend likely dismissed as concern for her friend. Sitting the phone down, Samantha took a sip of the tea and sat it back on the tray and settled back onto the pillows. Several minutes later, Jack appeared and he picked up a bottle and syringe that had been sitting on the tray. Sam had wondered what they were and looked at him inquisitively.

"It's a sedative," Jack explained. "There's no point in you staying awake for cramping and dry heaves. Your body has purged the contents of your stomach and now it's a matter of waiting out the remainder of the side effects."

Uncertain of what to say, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I didn't turn you in."

Samantha mentally kicked herself for her abrupt statement and was shocked by Jack's response. Non-chalantly, he shrugged and replied, "It wouldn't matter if you had."

"Why wouldn't it matter?" she questioned as he pushed the sleeve of her nightgown up and tore open an alcohol swab.

"Because other than getting you well and dealing with your attackers, nothing is important to me anymore," Jack sighed as he injected her.

"You couldn't have dealt with my attackers in prison," Sam pointed out.

"Yes, Samantha, I could have dealt with them. Maybe not in person but with a few phone calls I could have the matter taken care of," he responded as he capped the syringe and replaced it on the tray.

His words disturbed her, but drowsiness seemed to wash over her and as he started to leave, she slurred, "Stay with me."

"All right," Jack agreed.

Samantha reached for his hand and mumbled, "Why you only person I stand now?"

Taking a moment to process and translate her garbled words, Jack murmured, "Because you don't care what I think or feel, so it's easier for you."

Protest rose up in her mind, but couldn't seem to reach her tongue as the lethargic sensation from the sedative overtook her. Samantha's eyes fluttered several times and at last she was asleep. For a long time Jack sat with his hand in hers as she shuddered from the medication even in her sleep. Even though she was unconscious, he could tell she was in pain and his heart ached.

Extricating his hand from hers, Jack took care of the tray and then grabbed his jacket. He needed some supplies to care properly for her. His Samantha would sleep through his absence Jack thought as he made his way outside. As he walked to his car, he corrected himself. Not his Samantha, she never could be his now, he didn't deserve her after failing her. All he could do was get her well and avenge her. And then? There really wasn't anything left for him...