Page 7 of Never Forget
Loretta caught my eye over Rosie's sleeping head. Her expression said what Jack's wouldn't. That it had been closer than he was admitting. That she'd been scared in a way she didn't want him to see.
"I'm going to take this one home," she said softly, gathering Rosie closer. "Let you boys talk."
She paused at the door, one hand on my arm. The squeeze she gave me saidthank you for comingandwatch over himandI'm too tired to put any of this into wordsall at once.
Then she was gone, and it was just me and Jack.
He was quiet for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. When he spoke, his voice was different. Softer.
"Going back into that building," he said. "I kept thinking about Rosie. About what would happen to her if I didn't come out."
"Jack—"
"I'm not being morbid. Just realistic." He turned his head to look at me. "This job is dangerous. We both know it. And Rosie's already lost her mom."
Sarah. Jack's wife. Lupus had taken her slowly, then all at once, and Jack had been raising Rosie alone ever since. The thought of that little girl losing both parents at such a young age made something crack in my chest.
"I need you to promise me something," Jack said.
"Anything."
"If something happens to me—" He held up a hand when I started to protest. "Let me finish. If something happens to me, I need to know Rosie's taken care of. Jamie will step up, I know she will, but she's going to need help. She's going to need someone who'll show up even when it's hard."
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
"I'm asking you, Sam. Will you be there for them?"
The weight of the question pressed down on me. He wasn't just asking me to babysit, to help with homework, to show up for birthday parties. He was asking me to be family. To be the kind of man who stayed.
The kind of man I was still learning how to be.
"Yes," I said. The word came out rough, scraped raw. "Of course. Whatever they need."
Jack's hand found mine again. Squeezed.
"I know I don't have to ask," he said quietly. "I know you'd do it anyway. But I needed to say it out loud. I needed you to hear it."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
We sat there in the silence, the machines beeping their steady rhythm, and I made a promise I didn't fully understand yet.
For a while, it seemed like everything would be fine.
Jack's doctors were optimistic. His oxygen levels improved. He complained about the hospital food, which Loretta said was a good sign because it meant he was feeling well enough to be annoyed. I visited every day, sometimes twice, and each time he looked a little stronger, a little more like himself.
I let myself believe the worst was over.
Then the infection set in.
Something the doctors hadn't caught, hadn't tested for, hadn't expected. His lungs were too damaged, too vulnerable. His body couldn't fight it off.
By the time they realized how bad it was, there was nothing left to do.
I was at the station when the call came.
Jack was gone.
I don't remember what Cap said after that. Something about taking as long as I needed. Something about the crew covering for me. His voice sounded far away, like he was speaking through water.
