I'm so sorry about this coming up a lot later than it should have. The last two scene just...would...not...come...out! Plus, my life has been kind of crazy as well, and it's just...everything was just a mess colliding with another mess. Anyways, here you are. Hope no one was unbearably waiting for this next bit. Enjoy!

Sam was on his computer, doing a little research. He was looking up information related to memory repression. After he got done talking to Jack, he had went to his hamper and found one of his black Cosi shirts and a pair of khakis he had to wear that were heavy with moisture. This had him on his computer, trying to diagnose himself. He took a break after a while to make himself some dinner, washing the dishes right then. He went back to his computer, adding hallucinations to his search.

Sam knew about repressed memories and the things the mind did to make sure you could function, but he never thought his brain would actually block something out. It was probably the worst thing that had happened to him so far in his life, but it came back less than a day later, so he couldn't have been trying too hard to repress it.

He had put the whole night together at this point. He had gotten out of work around one, having covered for Rod so he could go on a date with some hot thing. He had missed the last 17 for the night and had to take the 5 instead. He could now recall seeing the car with one of those police lights on the dashboard, which is why he had went through the park instead of around it. He had just past by the fountain when someone grabbed him around his middle, gripped a handful of his hair, and pushed him into the water. Then the panic, the struggling, and the stilling had happened and everything had gone dark. He had jerked upright a little while later, coughing and gasping, before he immediately got out of the water and ran the rest of the way to his apartment. He had thrown his clothes into the laundry, dried off, pulled on a dry pair of underwear, and immediately went to sleep.

Sam's finger paused on the mouse pad. There had been that trippy little bit in the middle that hadn't forgotten at all and thought was a dream. He didn't feel his body, somehow looking up at it too. The water had seemed to go on forever, seeing beyond the concrete into an ocean. He had reached up and touched his face, uncertain if it had even been skin he was looking at. Now that he knew he had been attacked, Sam just regarded it as another hallucination from lack of oxygen. The face in the dishwater must have been something leftover from then.

This was all reasonable, but Sam was still looking for some other answer because...well, the hallucinations had seemed so real and vivid; almost too vivid, which was why he had thought it was a dream in the first place. The way it stuck out in his mind just – it didn't stand out like a hallucination seemed it would to Sam. He didn't know how a hallucination would stand out differently, but he just knew it stood out in the wrong way. Or something – he could just be losing his mind. Thus why he was on the computer, trying to find something to explain all of this.

Sam's whole apartment went dark at this moment, his computer shutting off along with everything else. His hands hover over the keyboard in disbelief for a second before he slams his computer close. Damn battery, Sam thinks, Of course this would happen after I have to send the damn thing in to get fixed. He gets up and looks out the kitchen window to see the pool's lights out too. Cherry on top of the fucking sundae of a day. With that, Sam grabs his phone to give him enough light to brush his teeth, sets the alarm on it, and finally goes to sleep.

-----

Jack had gone back to the precinct after dinner, what Sam had said about the police light sticking with him. He was going through patrol logs, hoping to talk to whoever had been patrolling the park late last night. But, it turns out Fran had already thought of that, having made a note in the file, something Jack hadn't noticed until he had all the logs out. Another rookie move, Jack thinks angrily. He throws the logs close, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"The Samaritan still stumping you, Jackie?" Jacobison, another rookie like himself, said with humor. Jack just turned and shot him a look. Jacobison was one of the people who joked about The Samaritan in general. While Jack was in firm belief of a new serial killer, some officers still thought it was simply the media trying to make a story out of some unrelated killings. Jack knew they were loosely connected, but he just had a feeling about this.

"Just going over the patrol logs, looking for some kind of connection," Jack tells him tersely.

Jacobison scoffs at that. "I've seen all the places the supposed Samaritan has struck and nothing really syncs up."

Jack narrows his eyes and actually looks at his fellow rookie, "When did you go scope out all the places The Samaritan's hit?"

"Went by them on patrol with Donald," Jacobison tells him as he fills his cup with coffee. Kevin Donald was another senior detective. He also was not a believer in The Samaritan, like his junior partner. Jack quickly flips through the patrol logs, scanning for Donald's name.

"They were all over the city; why would you be going by them on patrol?"

"It's, like, a rookie exercise or something." Jack gave Jacobison another look, prompting the detective to get defensive. "You know, this newest victim of this Samaritan isn't really helping your case. The guy's obviously on something: not remembering it and having some whacked-out hallucinations. We were watching your interview with Wheeler, and he just didn't seem-"

"You and Donald were there when I talked to Sam?" Jack cuts in, something clicking. Jacobison nods and prepares to continue, but Jack is up and running, throwing on his coat and whipping out his cell. As the elevator doors close, Jacobison feels some worry at seeing Jack's face twisted in panic.

-----

Sam cracks his eyes open as the power comes back on, waking him from his restless sleep. He had apparently left all of his lights on, as light filled his whole apartment. It made the figure that was standing in front of his open window really noticeable. Sam's eyes fly open fully, jerking upright in shock. There was a moment – less than a second – where he just stares at the man and the man stares back, but it passes, and the man comes at him. Sam scurries off the bed, trying to get to the door, but the man's hands clasp around his throat and throw his body into the wall. Sam has a bizarre flash of déjà vu struggling against the strong hands and arms that were choking the life out of him. He hadn't gotten choked before, but it still felt like he had been in this exact situation before. This exact position with this exact person.

Sam smashes his knee into the man's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gives enough room to let Sam squeeze his knee up to his chest, rabbit kicking the man right in the chest and sending him sprawling over the bed. Sam lands hard on his backside, coughs a few times while leaping to his feet. He sprints out of his room and slams his bedroom door close behind him. He heads straight to the front door, yanking it open, then twisting the doorknob lock before he slams it close behind him. The doorknob was janky and the lock had to be unlocked manually if you wanted to let someone in. It would buy him a few seconds to run, Sam hoping like hell it would be enough. He takes off at full speed to the steps, hearing the door smash against the wall as the man flung it open. Sam looks back and finally sees the man has a gun, which went well with the absolutely insane look in his eyes. He looks towards the steps, seeing someone coming in the gate to the complex. It's Jack, gun drawn! The adrenaline was flooring through his system, which helps Sam come to the terrible truth of the situation.

He's too far away.

Sam was just too far away from Jack for him to be of any use. The crazy man definitely wanted him dead as a doornail and a young detective threatening to shoot wasn't going to stop him from reaching his goal. Sam was going to get shot before Jack had a chance to even try and deter him.

Suddenly, another option makes itself known to Sam, a memory flashing instantly through his head.

It was from about two months ago, when he had first moved to the city. He had just gotten his stuff to the apartment complex and was in the process of bringing it up all the steps to his actual place. It had been a warm day and some kids were playing in the pool. A couple were up at the top of the steps and were preparing to leap off the railing and cannonball into the pool. A woman had hollered a threat at them and they had reluctantly not performed the feat. Sam remembered seeing the distance and concluding that it could be done, though probably not by a child.

Sam gives it no other thought.

He jerks his body up onto the railing and, just like the rabbit kick, he launches himself as far as he can. The fall is gut wrenching, since he couldn't tell if he really was going to hit the water or not. He slams into the water, a fear spiking through his system that wasn't related to the crazy man out for his blood. He went in butt first, knocking against something hard almost as soon as he broke the water's surface. Sam looks up in surprise, somehow already at the bottom of the nine-foot-deep pool. He could see the flash of a gun going off several times. His eyes follow the bullet casings as they float down to him, his air steadily running out. His heart is racing, refusing to slow and pushing the adrenaline further through his system. The casings soon were at eye level. They continue to drop, even as Sam's eyes stopped following them.

Sam was looking at the seven other people who were sitting at the bottom of the pool, curled up in the fetal position and looking right at him. What was most disturbing was that Sam recognizes all of their faces, though he can't say how he knows they were the victims of The Samaritan; all of them now smiling eerily at him. He chooses this moment to push off from the bottom of the pool and surface.

As soon as he gets his head above water, Sam takes a giant breath before looking around. Jack had The Samaritan face down on the ground, his arm bleeding from where one of Jack's bullets had nicked him, Sam wagered. He swims over to the edge of the pool and pulls himself up, running his hand up his face to push his hair out of his eyes. He's panting, the panic subsiding and the adrenaline ebbing away. He looks back over his shoulder into the pool, the seven men still in the same position, their gazes still trained on Sam. Sam feels a shiver run up his spine, making him shake a little.

He tells himself that it's because it's cold.

-----

Jack let the paramedics take the strapped-down Keith Donald into the ambulance, directing some uniforms to ride along to make sure things went alright. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Sam since he had emerged from the pool. Fran was taking Sam's statement, his hair starting to dry and stick out at some odd angles. His eyes dart to Donald, then Jack, before looking back at Fran. It looked like they were finishing, so Jack nods to the officers and the ambulance races off. He walks up to Sam and Fran as she flips her notebook close. She meets him halfway, speaking soft and clear so Sam won't hear.

"Looks like Donald knocked the electricity out and came into the apartment through the window. They got the power back on sooner than he anticipated and it woke Sam up. They struggled and Sam got away and ran before-"

"Jumping into the pool," Jack finished.

"Sam says it was the only option he had. Says you weren't close enough to do any good." Jack feels a flare of guilt at that and looks to Sam. He's staring at the pool, looking like he's about to be ill. Jack turns back to Fran, "Donald was in the room. Turns out he had taken Jacobison out to all The Samaritan's attack spots before they had happened. Checked with his wife; he told her he was out with the guys and he didn't come back until around two in the morning. She says it's happened at least once a week for a couple months."

"Then there could be more victims than we know about," Jack replies. His gaze flicks to Sam once more. "He alright?"

Fran gives him a look, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, "Maybe you should go ask him. I don't have the same...rapport with him that you do." With that, she walked off to talk to the other uniforms. Jack looks after he for a while, not liking what she seemed to be vaguely implying. He looks back to Sam, let's out a little sigh, and finally walks over.

"Hey," Jack greets simply, taking a seat in the pool chair beside Sam.

"Hey," Sam replies, taking his eyes off the pool and giving Jack a slight smile, "Thanks for showing up. You were just barely in time."

Jack chuckles, "Gee, thanks."

"I meant it positively."

"That's a first from you," Jack shoots back, flashing Sam a grin. He pushes his wet bangs out of his eyes in time for Jack to see them rolled.

"Seriously though," Sam starts, turning to face Jack, "thank you for saving my life."

"Just part of the job," Jack replies, trying to be humble and failing.

"I was looking for 'you're welcome' but that'll do," Sam mutters. Jack snorts lightly before clapping his hands on his knees and standing.

"Yeah. Well, another ambulance for you should be here in-" Jack starts before Sam whips his hand up.

"Whoa, hold on! I don't need an ambulance. I'm fine," Sam says quickly.

"You were attacked, you need to go to the hospital," Jack starts, looming over the sitting,wet Sam.

"I might be a little bruised in the morning. It certainly doesn't warrant a hospital visit, an ambulance, or all the money both of those will cost me," Sam replies, shooting up onto his feet. The towel slips off his shoulders with the movement.

"The ambulance is already on it's way."

"Then just send it back," Sam says, turning towards the stairs, "I'm fine and I don't really have time for a hospital stay, since I have work tomorrow."

"Look," Jack starts, following Sam up the stairs, "You were just attacked by a serial killer, shot at, and leaped off a railing into a pool. That's not even concerning the emotional damage from being violently assaulted twice within twenty-four hours by a cop who knows how not to leave a mark. Plus, you shouldn't be going into work after all of this anyways-"

"Lovely recap, though unneeded, since I was there for all of it," Sam cuts Jack off with, not stopping or slowing. "I know my body and I am fine

"You can't know that. You're not a doctor," Jack counters.

"You're not a doctor, either," Sam counters right back without stopping. It was pissing Jack off immensely.

"Just take the damn ambulance and go to the hospital, Carol."

That stops both of them. Sam whips around in confusion to see the look of pure mortification on Jack's face. There's an awkward pause where the confusion on Sam's face deepens as Jack's face gets more and more red.

"...I think we both just need some sleep, so...goodnight, then," Sam throws out before turning his back and making the rest of the way to his apartment, looking back over his shoulder a few times to give Jack looks. Jack just looks straight ahead, waiting until Sam is completely out of sight before he scrubs both his hands down his face in hopes of wiping the humiliation off of it. Feeling no better and probably looking worse, Jack descends the stairs and goes to his car, the same thought repeat over and over in his head: Where the fuck had Carol come from?

-----

It's a little after midnight when Sam finally settles into bed. In his head, Sam can admit that Jack was probably right about going to the hospital. Physically, he's sure it'll be nothing more than some soreness around his throat and maybe a bruise on his back. Psychologically...probably not so fine. He doesn't feel out of sorts, which is bad after the two attempted murders in a little less than a day. But, if he's going to go see a shrink, then everything will come out, and Sam definitely isn't ready to face the strangeness in the pool. Even if it did save his life.

Sam shakes his head and wraps his blanket tight around himself, pushing all out of his mind. He had a deeply unsettling feeling that the strangeness wasn't going away. That the strangeness wasn't as strange as it should be. Like, maybe...this strangeness had happened before. Lucky for Sam, there really wasn't anything he could do about it. It meant that while it was depressing, it was also accompanied by resignation. This allowed him to push it away from himself for now and get some much needed rest. It was something he did a lot when he was a kid. Definitely too many times to be anyplace close to normal.

There was nothing he could do about that, either.

Umm...anyone actually know any of the kids' birthdays? I'm trying to keep them relatively the same age gaps as in the show. Oh, and expect more characters to be showing up soon.

All questions, comments, and criticism is wanted and appreciated!