Jules started when she felt a hand touch her elbow. She turned around quickly, pulling her earbuds out of her ears, but immediately relaxed when she saw the person standing behind her.
"Oh, hey Sam. I didn't hear you come in. How was your day?"
"Same old, saving the world, blah blah…"
"Yeah, that does get boring, doesn't it?"
"It's a hard life being a hero." Sam grinned as he selected an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and tossed it up into the air before catching it again.
"So what have you been up to all day?" he asked, sending the fruit airborne again.
"Well, I thought I'd try out some new recipes today, what with all this free time I've got…" Jules gave a wry smile. "So I've got sweet and sour chicken marinating in the refrigerator, and I just finished making filling for eggrolls."
"Wow," Sam said, leaning against the counter with an impressed expression on his face. "You know, I kind of like this... I get home from work, my girl is puttering around the kitchen making me dinner… I could get used to this really quickly."
"Don't," Jules advised. "I'm only home for a week, and then you're back on dinner duty just as much as I am."
"A guy can dream."
"Yeah, keep dreaming."
Sam bit into the apple in his hand and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
"You are planning on staying home for a while when we have kids, though? For a little while, at least?"
"Not quite there yet, Sam."
"Yeah, but still, I mean – you must've thought about it, right?"
"Sam, I've kind of got other things on my mind right now."
"Right, right," Sam said, instantly contrite. "So - how is it going? With the doc?"
Jules turned around and began removing pans from the kitchen cabinets. "It's all right."
"All right?" Sam echoed.
Jules shrugged and said nothing. Sam watched her back for a moment, then set his apple down and reached out to her, placing his hand on her arm. She sighed and turned around to face him, looking unhappy.
"Hey," he said gently. "What's going on? I thought she's supposed to be helping."
"She is," Jules said.
"So why do you look so miserable?"
Jules looked down at the countertop.
"C'mere," Sam said softly, pulling her into his arms. She complied without protest, and he held her for a few minutes in silence.
"It's like going through emotional surgery," Jules said finally. "It's like – like I know that there's a problem, and that this is necessary to fix it, but meanwhile I'm being cut open and everything's exposed, and I'm just – feeling really vulnerable right now."
Sam rubbed her arm reassuringly. Unsure of what to say, he opted to remain silent.
"And it's also like – like a clogged sink," Jules continued after a moment. "Like it's being plunged up to clear it out, which is good, but meanwhile there's all this sewage that's being pulled up and is lying everywhere, and it's… it's difficult to deal with."
She looked up at Sam. He looked back at her without the faintest idea of how to go about reassuring her.
I'm pretty sure I understand her metaphors, but plunging emotional sewage… not exactly my forte.
"So… so it is helping though, the sessions," he ventured. "I guess you just have to – stick with it."
Jules's face fell slightly as she turned away.
"Look, I'm not – this isn't exactly my thing," Sam said defensively.
"You could try," Jules mumbled, shrugging out of his arms.
"I could – Jules, I am trying!" Sam said indignantly. "You think I know the first thing about this whole business? I'm not exactly into the whole 'emotional' thing, it's not my way of doing things."
"It's not the right way of doing things? Not tough enough for you?"
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you meant, though, isn't it? That the 'emotional thing' is weakness."
"Well – yeah, it is –"
"Oh, so I'm weak? Are we back to this again?"
"What? I didn't say that, Jules, I said that – that – oh come on, let's not revisit this argument. You're not weak, Jules, I never said you were!"
"No, only that my reactions are weak. Unbefitting for the oh-so-tough Sam Braddock. Unbefitting for his wife, too? Am I going to be an embarrassment to you, your soft spouse?!"
"Cut the crap, Jules! You're blowing this out of proportion –" and before he could stop himself "-as usual."
Jules's eyes blazed as she slammed the cutting board down on the counter. "Wow, Sam, it's nice to know what you think of me," she said scathingly. "So nice to know how much you care." She spun on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen.
"Jules, come on!"
Sam swore under his breath and chucked his half-eaten apple into the garbage as hard as he could. It hit the rim, bounced off, and skidded under the stove.
"Great! Just great!" he shouted at the empty kitchen. He marched over to the stove and then dropped to his knees, bending over to scout for the wayward fruit.
Gross… it's so dusty under here. I should use one of those Swiffer cloths to clean this.
He reached out and nudged the apple with his finger tips. It rolled towards him obligingly.
Actually, I should just move the stove so I could sweep and mop properly, he thought as he pulled himself up and dusted off his pants before dropping the fruit directly into the waste basket. Slam dunk.
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, then turned and headed for the bedroom. Jules was curled up on top of the blankets, her knees drawn up to her chest. Sam walked over and sat down on the bed next to her.
"Hey."
Her eyes flicked over to him and then back to the wall in front of her. Sam leaned back against the headboard and studied the ceiling for a few moments.
"So I once knew this girl," he began conversationally. "This really awesome girl. She was crazy smart, and crazy sexy, and she was the most badass SRU officer I'd ever met…" He studied the curve of Jules's spine beneath her sweater. "…and then she went through a bit of a hard time…" Jules's back stiffened. "…and I wished to God that I knew how to be there for her the way she wanted me to be, but I could only do the best that I knew how to do…" His cheek was twitching now. "…and I hope she knows how much I love her, and that I'd walk through hell and back for her if it would make her happy…"
Jules turned over and looked up at Sam, her face drawn and sad, her eyes filled with tears. He reached for her, and she lay herself down in his lap, tucking her arms tightly beneath her chest. Sam stroked her hair gently.
"We're gonna get through this, Jules," he whispered. "We're going to make it through."
He wasn't quite sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
