A/N: Well now. Long wait for a short-ish chapter. Sorry about that. As always, thanks to everyone who has been reading/reviewing/favouriting... all that jazz. Glad you all want to hug wollowy-non dealing Sam. I want to do other things, but I would settle for a hug if that's all he's available for. And that's about all I've got for my usually ranting A/N. I must be tired. Gotta go try to get something done on the next chapter.
These days, if it's not a double double, Noah's cry from the next room, or various words or actions from Sam, she's barely conscious upon waking up. Knocks on the door in the middle of the night are none of the above, making her less than top speed as she staggers out of bed and into the hallway. Somehow, through the fall rain that's busy beating the outside of the house, the knocks were enough to wake her. Ever the mother, she stops to make a quick check on Noah before closing his door behind her. There's no reason the rapping on the door should wake him up, and thankfully, or oddly, whoever is at the door hasn't rung the bell. With the nursery secured, she makes a half glance at Sam's nightstand. With little more thought to her actions she's on her way down the hall, trying to sober her own movements before taking on the stairs. Why the hell is someone at her door? What time is it? She fell asleep unusually early tonight - was up too late talking to Sam last night - so her best estimate of time is somewhere between 11pm and 5am. No, wait, Noah hasn't woken her up yet. Must be before 3.
Just before reaching the door she takes a deep breath, straightens out the stiffness in her joints in an effort to wake herself up. The knocking persists and she lets out a groan before pushing aside the curtain on the window to gain a better view of her front porch.
"What the-?"
earlier...
It's weird for her: being in the house without him. She hasn't spent a night without him since he came home from the hospital. She's perfectly fine with it; not at all afraid. She's a cop - SRU. Even with her not quite re-qualification worthy but pretty damn strong post-baby body she knows she can take on any fool that dare wander into her house, and threaten her family.
It's the loneliness that bothers her. She's used to a part of it, the part that falls in Sam's normally scheduled on shift time when she's resorted to British soap operas and colourful children's books for entertainment, but after that she's a little lost. Feeds Noah before sitting at an empty table to eat her own meal. She's moved all the pillows from the guest room onto she and Sam's bed just so it doesn't feel so empty.
Thankfully, she doesn't have long for the lonely to set in. Sam must be missing them, because he calls constantly. At this point they speak more than they would if he were home. Sure, not being on shift most of the day helps. She wakes up to a text from him asking if it's ok to call, or if she can call him. She keeps him on speaker phone while she gets Noah up and ready for the day, and lets him talk her ear off while she gets Noah settled in his stroller so she can take him for a jog. They talk again at lunchtime, when she has to all but hang up on him so she can get Noah down for his nap. And again at dinner, then after Noah gets to bed.
They don't talk about much of anything, really. He tells her about the lawyers, the military formalities. He tells her about how he helped his mom clean out the basement because she was 'tired of looking at the crap', A.K.A. in need of a distraction, and managed to find all of his legos. He's bringing them home to store in their basement until Noah is old enough to play with them. She's pretty sure he means so that he can play with them, but she hasn't said that to him. Much.
In his mother's house he sinks into a routine. A depressing, lonely routine composed of official business and family nonsense. He tolerates the family members who stop by on their way out of the town to once again give their regards. He nods, says thank you. He takes over for his Mom when a military officer stops by the house to inquire as to whether they will be emptying his father's office themselves or if they would like his effects sent over to the house. He rides along with Natalie when she goes by the base to empty their father's desk and bookshelves. They clear the walls of his framed documents and photographs from official events. He accepts quick nods from former comrades when he passes them outside the mess hall on his way back to the car. Most of them attended the funeral and have already said their peace - the rest stay quiet because they know how things were between the two Braddocks and opt not to get into it out of respect. He helps his Mom with dinner, actually manages to teach her a thing or two thanks to what he's picked up living with Jules.
Through it all he looks for openings, natural breaks in the day when he can pick up the phone and call home. And when the breaks don't float by, he creates them. Goes for a drive to the store to pick up a few things for dinner and talks on the phone the whole time. He sits on the front steps at night, chatting away with Jules until it gets too cold and he has to go inside. Then he moves inside to the kitchen, where he can still talk on the phone without disturbing anyone else in the house. He checks his email every half hour in hopes that Jules will have sent him new pictures of Noah, and she always does. While it makes him feel better to see his small smile, his open mouthed giggle, it doesn't help the guilt. After the smile that comes from seeing the latest picture comes the guilt of being away, and he immediately feels the need to call Jules. He loves his Mom, knows he did the right thing staying with her for a few days, but he's counting down the hours until he goes home.
"Sam?"
"What?" he groans. He clenches his eyes shut, hoping if he ignores her she'll go away.
"Good, you're awake."
How it is that Natalie is so awake in the middle of the night he'll never know. "Am now. What's wrong?"
"I don't know." She shrugs as if she didn't just wander into his room, in the middle of the night, to wake him up. Slumping down in the chair by the now empty crib she sighs, trails her nails along the bars.
"Ok, well…wake me up when you do." Closing his eyes he once again hopes she'll go away. He's not interested in a midnight chat.
"I think I'm angry." Guess she doesn't care what he is or isn't interested in.
Sighing, he sits up to face his sister. "About?"
"About Dad," she states simply, irritation evident in her voice. "At Dad," she corrects.
Sam sighs. "Well, he has that affect on people…"
Natalie glares at him, her face cringing in annoyance. "Not like that, Sam. I'm angry at him for dying." When he doesn't respond she rolls her eyes and continues. "Did I tell you I convinced him to come see where I work? Well, he was going to come out for a visit next time he was on leave. I was going to show him my office, because thats the kind of thing he cared about."
He smirks, nearly snorts, at her statement. "Yeah, he was all about designer clothes."
Her jaw clenches as she glares at him, sure that if he were anyone else she'd use some of the self defence techniques he taught her on his face. "Not like that, Sam, I mean offices, titles, careers. I was going to show him how I'm important there. How my years travelling gave me experience, made me an asset in the industry and not some aimless floozy like he seemed to think."
"Well…" He pauses, tries to think of the right thing to say to that. "At least he got to see the car you bought with the money from that career."
She rolls her eyes, lets a small grin escape at the thought of the first vehicle she's ever owned. "I guess. On top of that though now he's going to miss my wedding." She frowns, looks away from him, and he can tell their conversation has taken a more painful turn for her.
With a quick nod he looks around the room before turning back to her. "I think I saw a pie in the freezer downstairs…"
Natalie turns back to him, eyes glossy but mouth forging a smile. "What are you, 8?"
"No. When I was 8 I would have shared." He smirks quickly before leaving the room, Natalie close behind him.
...
The knocking persists and she lets out a groan before pushing aside the curtain on the window to gain a better view of her front porch.
"What the-?" She cuts herself off, pausing barely long enough to pick her jaw off the floor before swinging the door open. "What are you doing?"
Smiling, he shakes a few misplaced raindrops from his forehead before tugging her into a crushing hug.
She returns the hug and the smile, shaking her head. "What are you doing here?"
"Planted seeds in Nat's brain… she begged me to leave early," he grins some more, adds in a wink. "Oh, and I couldn't wait til the morning."
She lets out an uncharacteristic giggle and tugs at his jacket. "Sam, you're soaked…" she frowns, helping him out of it.
His eyes go wide as if he's forgotten the ten minutes he just spent on his front porch knocking in the rain and assists her in removing the coat. Raising a questioning eyebrow he takes in her appearance. "You planning on using that?"
"What?" Her brow furrows and she follows his gaze. "Oh. I. So maybe I. Who shows up in the middle of the night, knocking incessantly anyway?"
"Spike used to." He smirks, takes the gun from her and unloads it. "Good thing I didn't go for the stealth entry."
She rolls her eyes as she hangs up his coat. "Yes, yes, Jules panicked ha - ha. Come to bed with me?"
"Absolutely." He smiles, stops her as she moves past him to lead the way upstairs to crush her in yet another embrace.
She blinks quickly in confusion, but doesn't fight him on it. She just stands there with him, in a puddle by their front door. "Sam?"
"I really missed you two."