Chapter Text
There was a fierce rapping at the front door. Julia blinked a few times, drifting out of sleep. At first she thought she was still dreaming; she rarely woke from bumps in the night, but judging from the amount of light coming through her drapes, someone desperately knocking at this hour was in trouble. Given her father's line of work, this could only mean someone needed serious help.
"Paulie? What the hell are you doing here so late?" The doctor tried to speak quietly, but he was annoyed at being woken up at that hour and concerned about what this meant, so Julia heard his voice wavering up the stairs.
Paulie? She stood quickly, grabbing her robe from one of the hooks on her wardrobe door and pulling it on. She crept out of the room, down the hall past her younger sisters' bedrooms and to the top of the staircase where she listened for more.
"Hey, ah…" Paulie chuckled nervously. "Evening, Doc. I'm sorry to wake you, but… We had a little accident." The groaning became evident to both the doctor and Julia now, and Doctor Daniels saw Tommy dragging Sam along behind him. "We got an injured man out here."
The doctor sighed, still weary from sleep, but he opened the door further and stepped to the side. "Alright, bring him inside."
"Okay, thank you," Paulie breathed, stumbling back off the front porch to help Tommy bring Sam in.
Julia stepped down the staircase now, trying to see who it was that was injured without startling them. She inhaled sharply when she saw it was Sam.
Paulie and her father held him up, taking him down the hall and into the workroom behind the kitchen. It wasn't exactly legal, nor was it the preferred sanitary conditions he would have at the hospital, but it was good enough for his side business.
Julia made her way to the bottom of stairs and into the hall, playing with the hem of her robe as she waited. She could hear Sam groaning in pain, her father yelling at Paulie, and Paulie swearing.
Paulie had been in there on that table a couple times before; the most recent being when they met Tommy a few years back. She actually watched that one up close. Paulie squealed about his leg the entire time, with Sam laughing at him more than once. She wondered how bad the wound was now if no one was laughing at all.
While waiting for them to finish she went into the kitchen. Though the clock on the wall read barely midnight, she started a pot of coffee anyway. She couldn't go back to sleep now, and at least it was something to offer all three of them once they were finished. Her dad didn't like when she meddled in his not-so-secret business, but she was at the bar nearly every day—he couldn't really stop her if he tried.
She picked up an old newspaper—her father liked to keep the ones she wrote for—and perused it while she waited, folding it in distaste when she saw her old articles. Back to living at her father's home, no money, hanging around criminals… Yeah, she needed a proper job again. But this was much more fun, at least.
The door at the end of the hall eventually opened and she heard the three men shuffling back to the living room. They passed her without notice, and she followed them in, craning her neck to see Sam's condition.
"What are you doing awake?" her dad exclaimed suddenly, seeing her hanging behind them.
"You were loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood," she replied, rolling her eyes as she took a seat in the armchair, pretending she wasn't waiting for them to clear so she could talk to Sam.
"I hope not," Paulie muttered, standing near Sam, who was now laying on the couch with his eyes closed.
His suit jacket and vest were gone, likely left back in her dad's workshop, and his white shirt was unbuttoned almost completely. There was wound dressing on his side and blood streaked most of his clothes. There was a smear of it on his cheek, like someone tried to wipe his face off but didn't do a very good job.
Julia finally blinked and looked away, catching her dad's eye, who was giving her a curious look.
"Now that you're on the cup," her dad gestured at the coffee in her hands, "I doubt you'll be heading back up anytime soon. Well, I am. Make sure these bozos don't ruin the rug." He didn't normally act like this, but he was groggy when he didn't get enough sleep, and he had to be at the hospital at 5AM.
"Whatever you say, Dad," Julia said, taking another sip from her mug, watching as he went back upstairs. There was still blood on his hands.
Paulie grabbed his friend's shoulder, which made him moan in pain, so he let go and kneeled beside him instead. "Looks like you're in good hands," he said, side-eyeing Julia. "I'm gonna head home. You stay here and rest, and I bet the doc'll take you home tomorrow. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Yeah, okay Paulie," Sam said through gritted teeth, his eyes still closed.
Paulie grabbed his hat from where it fell on the floor when they came in and put it back on, heading for the door.
"See you, Julia. You coming by with Olive tomorrow?" Paulie hung around in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob.
Julia finished the last of her coffee and shrugged. "It's not like I have anything better to do with my time. I know Olive will be there." She probably has better things to do with her time, but well…
"Yeah, yeah okay." Paulie acted nonchalant, but she knew why he was asking. "Goodnight, Julia, Sam. Don't go dying on me."
"I'll try," Sam muttered, trying to fix the pillow under his head.
"See you, Paulie," Julia said, and he headed out the door. She then stood and made for the couch, taking the pillow from Sam's hands and adjusting it for him.
"Uh, thanks," he said, his eyes finally opening, though just barely.
Julia sat on the floor next to him. She meant to offer him coffee, but it slipped her mind. "Sam Trapani wandering in here looking like swiss cheese isn't something I expected for tonight."
"Yeah, well, I didn't expect to get shot in the gut neither." The corners of his mouth twitched, half-smirking.
"And you ruined your good suit, chief. At least you've got a half dozen others that look identical."
Sam turned his head as best as he could to face her. "What, you wake up just so you could rag on me all night?"
Julia's face got hot when he looked at her, and she was suddenly aware of their proximity despite their different positions. She was thankful for the lack of lighting in the living room at that moment. "No. I came down 'cause I was worried. I'm glad you're alive."
She absentmindedly reached to grab the hand of his that was hanging off the couch. She meant to set it on his chest, but she found herself holding onto it in reassurance instead. Embarrassed, she started to drop it, but he squeezed it tighter for just a second then let go. She almost thought she imagined it.
Without even a note of recognition of what happened—or perhaps that's why he said it—Sam replied, "I'm glad it's you here next to me instead of Paulie, that's for damn sure. The guy doesn't know how to be gentle."
Julia took what she could from that. She liked Paulie, but she was glad he left, too… for a few reasons. Even if Sam was utterly delusional from pain and medication at the moment, she liked what she was hearing. "Jeez, thanks. I'm glad it's you lying here bleeding on my couch instead of Paulie. You're quieter."
Sam started to laugh, but he grimaced as the pain shot through his chest and his freshly-sewn wounds. "Your dad gave me something back there that's making me feel all loopy…" he drifted off, sounding as if he had more to say. Julia looked at his chest; still breathing, it seemed.
"Barbiturates?" Julia guessed, but Sam gave no answer. He was already asleep.
She sat there for a few more minutes, her gaze fixed on his hand though she was more in her head than out of it in that moment. He just showed more affection in three minutes than he had in the entire four years she'd known him. Well, there was that time he gave her his umbrella, but she figured that was mostly out of pity. Finally Julia snapped out of it, wondering what she was doing sitting there daydreaming about Sam Trapani.
She headed back to her bedroom, not feeling particularly tired at all.