samandjack.net

Story Notes: E-mail: rachelle_g_20@yahoo.com, queen_of_cliffhangers@yahoo.com

Status: Complete

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places belong to MGM, World Gekko Corp., and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real people, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Archive: Sam and Jack Archive, and Heliopolis. All others please ask.

Summary: Jack is injured on a mission and Sam blames herself. 1st person POV

Rating: PG (mild swearing)

Spoilers: None really, very minor for ‘Fair Game’

Classification: Angst, Friendship/poss. romance

Required Reading: None

Feedback: Need you ask. Feedback is always appreciated

Authors Notes: Ok better late than never, I finally broke my dry spell last night and got a fic written. The result, my response to the Jack whumping challenge in which it’s Sam’s turn to go through the emotional ringer.

Dedication: Well it wouldn’t be a dedication if Ang and Shipper weren’t mentioned, the dedication addicts that they are. Thanks to my impromptu beta readers, who stepped in since Wendy is on vacation.


People move quickly around the room. They are shouting words I can’t seem to hear, or maybe I’m just not letting myself hear. I feel something brush up against my arm and I hear a loud crash. Forcing myself to look to my right, I realize the ‘brush’ was actually one of the nurses who had full out run into me. A hand wraps itself firmly around my left arm and pulls me forcibly from the room.

"Stay out here," Janet tells me as she quickly moves back into the infirmary and closes the door behind her.

‘This is not happening. This IS NOT happening’ I tell myself over and over as I stare at the door Janet just closed. I’m stuck in this spot, waiting. I hate waiting. That and I don’t want to turn and face the people I know are standing behind me.

"Major," General Hammond calls to me. Not in his usual command voice, well the command presence is there but I can hear the worry as well. Worry over his condition; worry over what my reactions have been. I guess I waited to long to answer because I feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder. "Samantha," he says again and gently turns me to face him.

From the look that crosses his face I must look like hell. I glance at Daniel to see the same look, only his isn’t steeled by 30 odd years of military service and training. Teal’c, our ever stoic warrior, who I can count on one hand and still have fingers left over as to the amount of times he’s actually let his face betray his emotions, has the same look on his face as Hammond and Daniel. It’s a look of shock, horror, concern and a little bit of something else that I can’t quiet name.

"Why don’t you get cleaned up," the General tells me.

I know better than to protest or object, so I nod my head and respond like a good soldier, "Yes, sir," and begin to move in the direction of the locker rooms. It’s the last place I want to be I don’t want to leave that hallway. I don’t want to be any farther from him than I have to be. As I walk through the halls I absently note that they are very deserted, which I find odd until I realize it’s nearly three in the morning.

I reach the doors to the locker room and walk in. It briefly crosses my mind to check and see if anyone is in here, but just as quickly I tell myself that I really don’t care if they are. I’m not going to be here long, just going to get cleaned up and back to the infirmary. Five minutes tops. I make my way back to the sink area and get my first real good look at myself. Now I know why everyone had such horrified looks on their faces when they got a look at me.

My hair is caked in a mix of dirt and probably some blood. The front of my uniform in completely soaked in blood; his blood. A streak of red runs down my left cheek where his hand had settled for that brief minute before he lost consciousness. I reach for the faucet and as I turn the handle I realize my hands are covered in blood as well. I stand there with the water running and just stare at my hands, which are starting to shake.

‘No’, I tell myself, ‘I will not do this. I will NOT fall apart.’ And even as I say these words to myself I feel the tears start to fall. My hands reach out for the edge of the sink to support me as my knees threaten to give out on me. The tears begin to fall faster and I hear myself begin to sob as I let myself sink to the floor.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, but the tears have finally stopped. Most likely because I have none left to cry. Sometime while I was crying I managed to move myself against the wall and pulled my knees up to my chest. My head is resting on my knees as I gently rock. I hear muffled footsteps, they seem to be moving closer but I can’t tell. The footsteps suddenly stop then shift direction and I hear them moving closer to where I’m hiding. I hear them clearly now as they slowly, almost unsurely approach me. I’m pretty sure it’s Daniel and I know he means well, but he’ll also want to talk about what happened and frankly I don’t.

"Daniel, I really just want to be alone right now," I say, not lifting my head up from its position on my knees.

"Well I’ll pass the message on to him," comes a voice that is definitely not Daniel’s. My head snaps up to see who’s invaded my privacy even though I already know by the voice.

"Ferretti," I say plainly hoping he’ll just go away, even though I know he won’t. Ever since my promotion to major, Ferretti has been around a lot more. In the last few months we’ve actually started becoming friends, a step up from the passing acquaintances we’ve been for the last three years. Janet says he has a crush on me, but I know better. One thing most people around here don’t know is that Ferretti has a serious girlfriend, Felicia is her name and I’ve met her several times. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and can definitely handle our sometimes rather difficult, Major Louis Ferretti.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks taking a step closer.

"Not particularly," I say quickly getting up and moving again to the sinks, "But thanks for asking," I quip as I go to stick my hands in the water to clean myself up.

"Sam!" he yells as he grabs my writs and yanks my hands back from the sink.

"What the hell are you doing!" I nearly scream at him as I jerk my hands away from his grip.

"Look at the water, Sam," he gently tells me and I do so. That’s when I see why he did what he did. When I had originally turned the water on I had apparently turned the hot water on, and with as long as it had been running it was now rather hot. Steam rose out of the sink. I would have scalded my hands for sure. That’s the last straw. I close my eyes and feel the tears start to come again. A half-choked sob escapes my lips and I feel him pull me into a hug. I don’t resist.

"It’s my fault," I tell him "It’s my fault he’s in there fighting for his life." I’m not sure if he can actually understand what I’m saying what with my sobbing and the fact that my face is buried in his chest. Hell, I can barely understand what I’m saying.

"That’s not true," he whispers to me. Those are not the words that I want to hear. I knew he would say them but right now I just want to wallow in self-pity and guilt because it seems easier then accepting that I’m not to blame. I jerk back from him.

"Yes it is! I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t hear them coming. He pushed me out of the way. I should be in there, NOT him!" my voice grows louder with each sentence, my breathing increasing as I struggle to get the words out. "He’s in there because I was to busy playing scientist instead of being a soldier! If he dies it’s my fault! His blood," I scream holding up my hands for him to see, "IS ON MY HANDS!"

I’ve shocked him. He stands there and just stares at me. He had no idea what to say to me. Not that it matters, deep down I somewhere I know I’m not to blame and that Jack wouldn’t want me to feel guilty, but I’m not letting that little bit of knowledge speak right now. Right now I just want to feel guilty. But apparently Ferretti has other ideas.

"That’s bullshit," he all but spits out. He moves quickly toward me and harshly turns me to face the mirrors. "What do you see," he asks me.

"What kind of dumb question is that," I throw back at him and make an attempt to move away. I’m in no mood to be manhandled right now, most certainly in no mood to be psychoanalyzed. But he apparently is determined that this is what is going to happen because he holds me in place.

"It’s a perfectly good question. Now answer me, what do you see?" he says again, this time not as harshly.

"I see me," I tell him before turning my head away and closing my eyes. I really don’t want to see my reflection. But he’s bound and determined to make me see that I’m not to blame.

"Sam, open your eyes and look in the mirror!" he yells in his best command tone, which is actually pretty good because I jumped and did as I was told. "You know what I see. I see a beautiful, intelligent woman who is blaming herself for events that she damn well knows were out of her control. I see a woman who is blaming herself for something she couldn’t have prevented. You didn’t do this to him, Sam. The warriors you ran into did. They pulled the trigger, NOT you." He finally finishes and releases me, taking a step back.

I stand there and stare at my reflection in the mirror and that little bit of knowledge that I had been hiding, the bit that knew it wasn’t my fault, finally was allowed to surface slightly. Something else was bothering me though. "He didn’t think he was going to make it," I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper.

"How do you know that?" he quietly asks me stepping closer once again.

"Because, his last words before blacking out were," I pause not sure if I can actually say the words, "his last words were ‘I love you, Sam.’" I force the words out in one big rush, and even as I say them my eyes well up again. Since I know that even if he makes it, nothing can change. Our jobs are too important to us.

"Sam, I could have told you that a long time ago," Ferretti says to me with a small smile.

I stare at his reflection before turning around to face him "What... what are you talking about?" I ask, more than a little.

"Sam, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but pretty much everyone on base knows that you and Jack O’Neill are head over heels for each other. Hell Kawalsky started a betting pool on you two when we got back from the Abydos mission." He said with a grin.

I just stand there and stare at him, my mind moving a million miles a minute. I thought I had always been so careful not to let anything I might have been feeling for the Colonel to be displayed. We had flirted sure, but only under the safe and watchful eyes of the military, and never in a way that would cause certain types of speculation at least that’s what I thought anyway.

"Well I hope you picked a date far in the future, Ferretti," I tell him with a hint of a real smile. Leave it to him to be able to do that.

"Nope, actually I have today. So I suggest you get cleaned up and get down to the infirmary and tell him how you feel. The pot’s gotten rather large and it’s got my name written all over it." He said with a wicked grin. "Felicia’s been eyeing engagement rings, so I figure I ought to make a honest woman out of her."

At this I allow myself to break into a full-fledged honest to goodness smile. "Well if that’s the case then I guess I better get moving. The things I do in the name of love." He turns to leave, to give me time to change and privacy to allow myself to digest everything that has happened and to think about what I’m going to do, I suddenly stop him.

"Ferretti," I call out.

"Yeah, Sam," he says turning to face me once again.

"Thanks," I tell him.

"Anytime," he says and I know he means it.

He turns and leaves me alone once again. I hear him take up position outside the door and I smile softly. ‘My protector’ I think to myself and wonder what I did to deserve such a good friend. I manage to get cleaned up and into fresh clothes rather quickly. As I close my locker I hear Ferretti leave his position outside the door which causes me to smile again. I make my way back to the infirmary where Daniel, General Hammond, and Teal’c are waiting.

"Sam," Daniel says moving quickly toward me. "Are you ok?" he asks, concern washing over his face.

"Yeah, Daniel, I’m going to be fine.," I tell him and I know that I will be because Ferretti was right, it wasn’t my fault. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it. I hear the door handle turn and I spin around in time to see Janet emerge from the room and step into the hallway.

"How is he?" I ask feeling the guilt making a return appearance and bracing myself for the worst.

"He’s lost a lot of blood but there was no damage to any of his major organs. Their ‘bullet’ passed clean through," she said giving me a reassuring smile.

"So he’s ok?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, he’s fine. In fact, he came to a few minutes ago. He’s asking to see you, Sam," she said slightly raising an eyebrow at me. I make a mental note to ask her if he said anything while he was unconscious.

"Thanks Doc," I say as I step passed her and into the room. I hear the door close behind me and I just stand there and look at him lying in the bed. I feel the tears start coming again as I remember how close I just came to losing him.

‘I love you, Sam’ I hear him say again. Me, he said he loved me. And even as that little bit of knowledge sends my heart soaring, it also breaks it. As an Air Force Brat and as career military I know the rules, and relationships between a CO and his 2IC are NOT allowed. Period, end of story. Not unless one of us wants a transfer, and I know neither of us wants that. Our work is too important, what we do here is bigger than both of us.

"Are you gonna stand there all day?" comes a quiet voice.

"No, sir," I say and move toward him. I reach his side and attempt not to notice all the equipment he’s hooked up to. I reach down and take his left hand into mine. "How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Never felt better," he tells me with the patented O’Neill sarcasm I’ve come to know and love.

"Well that’s good to hear. We don’t want people to think your laying down on the job, now do we." I tease.

"Oh no, can’t have that." He smiles before going serious on me. I feel my fight or flight instincts kick in because I know where this is going "Sam," he says gripping my hand a little tighter and giving a little tug, "Sit down, would you."

I do as I’m asked, my mind bracing for what he’s going to say. Because for three years I rarely let myself entertain the idea that he could be feeling even a hint of what ever it was that I was feeling. That undeniable tension and attraction between us. I had always squashed those ideas whenever they tried to surface because I knew the rules. And with four little words, he broke them.

"Sir, if this is about what you said on the planet don’t worry. You were seriously injured and didn’t think you were going to make it. We all say things when we’re under stress. I’ll just forget you said it." The words leave my mouth very quickly because I know I only have one chance to say them. That if I would have allowed myself to think I would have never been able to do it, I would have probably poured my heart out to him and I wasn’t ready to do that. Because I had no guarantee that he actually meant

them, that they weren’t only brought on by stress and delirium. I look at his face and I begin to chew on my lower lip, a habit I picked up as a child whenever I was nervous. And what I see there shocks me. The look on his face is that of pure surprise and shock. Oh my god, he couldn’t possibly...

"Sam, that’s not what I was going to say. I don’t want to take those words back or pretend I didn’t say them. Sam, I meant what I said." He stops and looks down at our entwined hand. "But if you don’t feel the same we can pretend they were never said," he finishes quietly.

Holy Hannah. He meant what he said.

"Sir... Jack, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to pretend you didn’t say those words, but." I pause, my mind again racing. This was not something I ever allowed myself to imagine. I always would make myself remember the rules, or tell myself he wasn’t over Sara. Sara, now this was a stumbling block as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t sure things were actually resolved between them, and I wasn’t about to be the rebound relationship. Been in enough of those to know that they never work out. Ok, one of us needs to be the logical one here and I guess it’s gonna have to be me. "What about the regs?" I ask.

He seems to think about this and I can see he’s carefully coming up with his answer. "How bout this. We start slow, get to know each other a little better. Get to know Sam and Jack, since Colonel and Major already know each other pretty well. We keep it very public, more team time together off base that way, no one can speculate on anything. Daniel and Teal’c can be our ‘chaperones’.

That idea causes me to smile. The idea of Teal’c as a chaperone is enough to make me giggle. Ok this may work; he doesn’t want to rush things, which is good. And he’s right we need to know each other as Sam and Jack, and not just Colonel and Major.

"Sounds like a plan to me. Oh that reminds me, Ferretti is going to be awfully upset." I say grinning widely.

"Why's that?" he asks slightly confused.

"Apparently there is a betting pool as to when we’ll finally get together and Ferretti had today.," I tell him, the idea is still a little hard to digest but amusing all the same.

"A betting pool" he says with an amused grin on his face. Leave it to him to like that idea.

"Yeah, apparently Kawalsky started it after we got back from the Abydos mission." I tell him, absently playing with the corner of the blanket.

"Sounds like something he would do," he tells me and I see the pain spring up in his eyes at the memory of his friend.

"Well," I say getting up from the bed. "I better go let the others in before they all have coronaries. I’m sure Daniel is climbing the walls by now."

"Good idea," he says as he releases my hand. The loss of contact sends a wave of emotions running through me. "Sam," he whispers to the point I can barely hear him.

"Yes, sir," I say as I lean in so I can hear him, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slides his right hand up to my face and then around to the nape of my neck and pulls me gently down toward him. His lips brush over mine, timidly, softly, and almost reverently. And just as suddenly he releases me. Still in a slight state of shock, I smile and move away making my way to the door. As I reach for the handle I stop and turn to face him.

"Jack" I call softly.

"Yeah," he answers back.

I take a deep breath, not sure if I should say the words. Finally my heart makes the decision for me. "I love you, too," I say simply. Reaching for the handle, I open the door and let the others into the room.



===

The End

Writer of Bedtime stories ~*~ Queen of Cliffhangers *g*
keeper of Shipper's 'never going to live this down' moments
Princess of the Gutter Dimension
High Priestess of Denial
Queen of Rants
High Priestess of the Clone-Strippers Dimension
Grand Dutchess of the Trash Can Dimension




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