The Long Road Home

Rating: R for adult themes, sexuality, violence, and brutality.

Summary: While on a business trip to Algeria, Sam is taken hostage when a civil war erupts throughout the country. Jason tracks her as far as he can but is soon told that the caravan she was in was overcome by nomads and there were no survivors. Jason returns to Port Charles a broken man, throwing himself into his work to try and get by. 7 months later, Sam returns to Port Charles. Can her relationship with Jason be rekindled ? Even if she's carrying another man's child? Escaping is only the beginning of the long road home.

Wake Up Call

Sam stood on the deck of the Dorothy Gale, a coarse linen blanket draped over her shoulders as she took in her first sight of the United States in seven unbearably long months. She never thought she'd be so happy to see the docks of Port Charles in all of her life. A bittersweet smile played at the corners of her lips as she gently cradled her stomach.

"We're home." She told the blossoming joy, both a miracle and constant reminder of everything that had happened in Africa. She heard the cabin door open and turned to see Scott Phelps walking out to make sure she was alright. He had that look in his eye, that ' What are you thinking,' look, like she was breakable. She knew Scott from her salvaging days and he'd been the one she'd found in Morocco when she needed a way out.

"You shouldn't be out in this chill." He told her protectively.

Sam shook her head with a scoff. "I swear 7 months of captivity and you act like I'm going to crumble." She was suffering on the inside, but she'd be damned if anyone was going to see it. However thick she had to paint her facade, she would do it. Scott seemed appeased by her show of confidence in her self and backed off the coddling train.

"Well we're in cell range, if you wanted to call someone." He gave her a pat on the back and slid his cell phone into her hand. "I'm gonna go docked this, baby."

Sam looked down at the small silver phone with a mix of fear and uncertainty. She'd had the opportunity to call before she and Scott left Morocco. Jason hadn't answered and she couldn't fathom what sort of message she could leave him after 7 months. She'd tried Alexis as well, but her mother was out on a pressing matter and Sam didn't want to wait around to try and catch them later. She wanted out of Africa.

So her home coming wasn't going to be filled with smiling faces of families and friends. She wasn't sure she could face them all at once. After everything she had seen she knew that she was a different person and she prayed that they could all still love her, maybe not quite like before, but similar. She turned the phone over in her hands, trying to decide who to call. Obviously she had to call Jason, she wanted to, but there was this lingering fear, maybe irrational, maybe not, she wasn't sure anymore.

Sam finally gave a drawn out sigh before sliding the phone open and dialing his number. She couldn't keep putting this off. Jason was going to see her, he was going to know. And where ever the blame truly lay it was still going to hurt. She just hoped that he loved her enough to see past the brutality of the situation and find a way to forgive her and to love this baby. She'd seen that type of caring in him for children that weren't his own, like Michael, the way he was always protecting Sonny's children.

She licked at her lips nervously, listening to the subtle rings against her ear. It went to voice mail again and Sam closed her eyes with a sharp exhale of frustration. She supposed she could get a cab back to the penthouse and simply wait for him to get home and let her in. She didn't have any of her old belongings – everything that hadn't stayed in Port Charles was gone. In fact, she was wearing one of Scott's blue plaid flannel shirts and a pair of entirely too large gray sweat pants all of which did a good job of covering her developing belly.

Sam leaned against the cabin wall and watched as the ship drew closer to the dock in the heart of the night. As they drew closer she noticed movement on the docks. It took a moment but she soon realized that one of Sonny's shipments had just come in. She chewed on her lip nervously. While Jason was almost sure to be there, the men weren't expecting them to be pulling in and until everyone was identified it could get a little dicey. "Scott, slow up." She called worriedly.

ZZZZZZZZZZ

Jason ignored the phone call when he realized that he didn't know the number. Whatever it was it could wait. The shipment was already late and he needed to make sure there weren't any more set backs. Jason Stuck to the shadows, watching as the crates were moved quickly down the dock towards the waiting vehicles for transport. He had another look out searching for any sign of the cops while he made sure that there weren't any unscheduled ships coming in.

They were twenty minutes into unloading when he saw the Ship, at first it appeared that it was about to dock near the cargo ship, but it veered at the last minute to take another slip much farther away. Jason narrowed his eyes worriedly. This could be a problem. If they'd gotten a look at what was happening they might radio the coast guard or the police. He couldn't let that happen.

"Dan, come over and take my watch, I need to go check on a potential problem." Jason tossed out the order on the move as he pulled his gun from where it was resting against the small of his back, tucked in by the waistband of his jeans. He hugged the shadows as he slipped down the docks watching to see where the ship was about to tie off. He would know in a moment if they were a threat.

The boat docked and he watched as two figures walked about the deck in the cool autumn air. It was a man and women, the rest of the crew tending to the rigging. The couple soon descended to the pier and made their way up the board walk. At that moment he knew they were no threat, they wouldn't be so calm and collected, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from them, because for one fleeting, heart breaking moment he could have sworn that the woman climbing off the boat was Sam.

Jason knew it couldn't be, he'd buried her memory seventh months and fought to stave it off with mountains of work. Anything Sonny could throw his way. Jason turned away and started back to the docks now feeling cold tendrils of sadness sinking their claws into his heart.

"I'll be fine. I can call a cab just like any other liberated woman." Jason heard the soft voice, the accompanying laugh and froze. She sounded just like her, just like her. Jason turned around slowly, now compelled to get a better look. No not compelled, he was driven. He couldn't rest until he saw her, until he looked into her eyes and convinced himself that Sam was still dead. But there was a part of him that blindly hoped that the impossible was a reality, that Sam could be alive, right there, mere feet away from him.

"I'm sure he'll be home before too long – he can let me in." She was saying.

"I don't think you should be sitting around in some hallway, waiting all night. What if he's out of town or something. Sam, you need to get some rest, descent food, more than I've been able to give you so far. Why don't you let me get you a room or something?" the guy with her replied, clearly concerned about her. Jason felt another pang. Had that man called her Sam?

Jason could only pray that he wasn't hearing what he wanted as that one more clue had him breaking out of the shadows and striding right towards them, his need to see her driven harder. He walked with purpose, his gaze angled towards his feet, tears dotting his eyes as he dared to hope, yet let fear keep him from looking, lest he take the blow that she wasn't Sam.

"Jason?" That snapped him out of it. Jason looked up and came face to face with Sam McCall, his presumed dead fiance.

"Sam," it came out as a whisper, broken, funneling a riptide of emotion in that one word.

"We don't want any trouble..." Scott angled himself in between the both of them when he saw that Jason had a gun in hand.

"He's not going to hurt us." Sam moved around Scott without missing a beat just as Jason realized why the guy was worried and hurriedly put the gun away.

Jason couldn't think, his mind racing in a hundred different directions, while he fought a surge of emotion that threatened to choke off any response he could have offered and then...Sam wrapped her arms around him and he faltered in shock. Slowly he responded, gently enfolding her in his arms, breathing her in. He didn't have the words...were there even words? He never had been a word smith but just this once he really wished that he knew what to say.

And then he felt her robust baby bump. As if the overwhelming reunion wasn't enough of a shock, that certainly took the cake. Jason pulled back in alarm and he couldn't for one moment hide the anger that lit through his eyes. He'd been mourning her for seven months, seven of the cruelest months of his entire life and she was...blind rage was setting in, unable to rationalize all of the what ifs. "You're pregnant..."

And of all the things to say, that wasn't the right one. Jason balled his fist in anger as he stepped back, putting more distance between them. "Whose..." She hadn't been pregnant when she left so he knew it wasn't his.

"It's a long story, Jason. I just..."

"Whose, Sam? His?" He motioned to Scott who instantly put his hands up in defense.

"Whoa, not mine." Scott clarified immediately.

"Is that really all you care about right now?" Sam narrowed her eyes, trying to fight the disappointment, the hurt that was sinking in deep. He could barely say her name, but he could ask her right off who the father of her baby was? What about 'Oh Sam I missed you' or ' I love you so much, I'm glad your home' or maybe ' I never stopped looking for you'.

Jason set his jaw, still completely reeling. The anger in her voice did nothing to appease his own. "That's not the only thing I care about right now." He'd already shoved his foot in his mouth and that hadn't held so maybe if he vented this anger in an irrational manner swallowing to his knee might improve the situation. "You couldn't bother to call? You seem well."

Sam flinched at the accusation that she had simply kept him in the dark about her whereabouts. God she hadn't even been near a phone until a week ago and then all she was thinking about was getting back home to him. Still she had called him, and maybe she should have left a message but that didn't excuse his attitude right now.

"I'm not going to justify that with an answer, Jason." Sam was so hurt right now that she couldn't even think about keeping on with this escalating argument and God forbid Scott was right, she was exhausted. "I think I'll take you up on that hotel." Sam whispered.

"Okay," Scott seemed hopeful that this was the end of the conversation.

"Come and find me, if you ever get your head out of your ass." Sam whispered tearily unable to meet Jason's eyes. She went with Scott leaving Jason standing there both of their hearts torn.

ZZZZZZZZZZ

Aban Abdul-Azim buttoned his suite jacket on the way down the steps that extended from his private jet. Two men stood by, waiting for him, having paved the way for his arrival in Port Charles. It was unfortunate that Samantha had run from him. Here he'd finally managed to put a minimal amount of trust in her and she took the opportunity to run home. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I've secured the penthouse at the MetroCourt." Mal Farrak met him in the back of the limo, explaining what had been done. "We'll begin our search for your wife, in the morning. If she has already arrived, than I promise we will find her."

"I know you will." Aban wasn't leaving without her and his child.