No Regrets by Alli Snow

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Story Notes: Author: Alli Snow (alli@ecis.com)

Rating: G... as in "Gee, there's nothing offensive in this story!"

Spoilers: Solitudes

Archive: Anywhere, just email me. Of course, Heliopolis and Sam and Jack don't have to ask. That's because I love them so...

Summary: If only "Solitudes" had been a few minutes longer...

Disclaimer: Not. My. Universe. Yet.

Thanks to: Laura and Nevyn, for betaing. Love ya!

Notes: This would be one of my first SG-1 fanfics... send feedback... be kind... Also, this is mildly, um, sappy. I don't usually DO sap, as you would be able to tell from my X-Files stories, but in this case I couldn't help myself.

O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,-
Nature's observatory;...
- Keats, Sonnet: "O Solitude"

*****

*Jack*

"Jack."

It was the first thought in my mind, the first word on my lips, my bridge from unconsciousness to the waking world. Where was he? He wasn't here, that was certain. I couldn't hear him breathing, couldn't feel him beside me...

And then I remembered the rescue. Daniel. Teal'c. General Hammond. All telling me that I was going to be okay, that Colonel O'Neill was going to be okay. "You came through the Stargate for us..." "Not exactly..."

I shook my head, trying to sort out my jumbled memories, and pain exploded from within. "Shit," I whispered.

"Watch the language, Captain."

My eyes flew open in surprise and I winced at the onslaught of brightness as light sliced into my eyes like a thousand tiny daggers. "Colonel?"

"Whatever happened to 'Jack'?"

I turned my head to the side, away from the blinding neon ceiling lights. Slowly, Jack O'Neill - bandaged, bruised, pale, sitting slumped in a chair near my bed with crutches propped up nearby - resolved before me.

I gaped at him, relief and joy coursing through my body. He just smiled.

I didn't realize until that moment how certain I had been that the colonel had died. That Teal'c had lied when he'd said that Jack would be all right. That I had failed my CO in every sense of the word.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "How are you feeling, Captain?"

Feeling foolish and unprofessional lying on my back before the colonel, I struggled to sit up. Jack pressed something into my hand; the box that controlled the bed's position.

Gratefully, I moved my bed into a more upright position. "Shouldn't I be asking you that, sir?" After all, I'd just had a little headache, a few pains... he'd been the one with the broken leg, cracked ribs, frostbite, internal bleeding... I winced as I thought of it.

"Not if I ask first."

I rolled my eyes, secretly pleased by his concern. "I... I have a headache, sir," I said, trying to minimize my condition without actually lying. My ankles, knees, elbows, shoulders and back ached from all the slipping and sliding I had done on the hard ice, and my climb to the surface. "And I'm a little sore."

O'Neill nodded. "You know I can tell when you're lying, Captain."

I blushed and changed the subject. "How are you, sir?"

He stretched and grimaced. "Ah, according to the chart: broken leg, of course, two broken ribs, punctured right lung... nothing I couldn't handle. Nothing the good doctors couldn't patch up." He gave an idle shrug, as though I couldn't remember how much pain he had been in.

I cast my eyes downward, trying to see the colonel's leg. "Frostbite, sir?" I asked, fearing the worst.

O'Neill shook his head, his expression softening, his voice little more than a whisper. "None. A little hypothermia on both our parts, but they obviously got to us before anything permanent set it. You had or have or... whatever... a slight concussion; probably hit your head when you came out of the Stargate. That helmet only does so much, trust me." He sighed, and even THAT looked painful. "That splint, Captain..."

I closed my eyes. I knew it. I KNEW it. I'd done something wrong... I'd screwed his leg up... he'd need surgery...

"... You saved my leg."

I looked up, surprised.

"I heard the doctors talking while they were working on me. It was a bad break. If it hadn't been set correctly... and the way I was walking on it... if the splint hadn't been strong, I would have lost my leg for sure."

No leg, no military, no SG-1.

His gaze was vaguely adoring, and I was caught off guard by it. "I was just doing my job, sir. Hell, I didn't even do THAT. If I'd gotten that Stargate working, I could have spared you a lot of pain. If the SGC hadn't found us, we would have died there. I--"

My voice caught in my throat as Jack put his hand on mine. "There wasn't anything you could have done, Sam."

"I--"

"We were on Earth."

I stared at him. How was that possible? I had seen the surface: snow and nothing but. And the seventh symbol, the point of origin... it had been different.

"Antarctica," he elaborated. "I overheard Daniel and Teal'c. They think that the Stargate we came through was the original one on Earth. I guess at some point it became inaccessible to the Gou'ald and they--"

"They put another one on Earth."

"Right. And when you tried to dial home--"

"We were dialing our own number." I felt like slapping myself. It had never even crossed my mind to dial up another planet; once there, we would have been able to make it back to the Stargate... our Stargate. Blame it on the concussion, I thought hotly, still angry at my own shortsightedness.

"Hey." Jack moved his hand up to my shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up over this. I didn't think of it either, and I'm the Commanding Officer. Daniel just understands the gate system... and he had a lot more to work with than we did."

Relenting grudgingly, I looked around the sparse room. "So we're in Antarctica?" It was hard to believe that we weren't all that far from the cold and lonely cavern we had almost died in.

"McMurdo," O'Neill agreed, letting his gaze wander. He shivered slightly and I imagined that he shared my sentiment. One minute, you've given yourself up to eternity, and the next, you're in a nice clean room, in a comfortable bed, fine, albeit wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy... if you would excuse the reference.

I sighed then, my exhaustion hitting me like a bag of wet cement. I knew I had been through a lot, and couldn't be expected to be in top order after our ordeal... but it still made me feel weak. I knew that Jack couldn't be much better off - his color was off; there were dark circles under his eyes - which made me feel a little better. "You'd better get some rest, sir," I said, surprised when a yawn caught me mid-sentence. I smiled sheepishly.

He returned it, giving me a look that said, plainly "Ah-ha... caught ya'". "Yeah, I'd better," he said, with another painful stretch, although I knew what he really meant was "Yeah, I'll leave so YOU can get some sleep".

When did I become a mind reader? I wondered.

I began to lower the bed back down, and Jack grabbed his crutches. He rose, and then paused, half-standing.

"Sam?"

His voice was soft... almost tender. I stopped the bed's decline at once, and, swallowing hard, ventured, "What is it, Jack?"

He looked like he almost wanted to smile, but managed to restrain himself. He hesitated for a thoughtful moment and then: "Thank you."

My brow knit in confusion. "For what?"

"For keeping me together. For... for coming back, at the end. I know I told you to leave... I wanted you to leave. The worst thing I could think of was letting you stay and keep working on the DHD, or stay... for me. But I didn't... didn't want to die alone."

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes squarely, startled by the intensity in his eyes. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to respond to that, but thankfully, Jack wasn't finished.

He lowered himself back into the seat carefully. "I called you Sarah, didn't I?"

Yes, and I hadn't been sure whether or not to take it as a compliment, if anything at all. "Yeah. But, I mean..." I was suddenly embarrassed. "She's the one that got you through Iraq, and if that's what got you through this... than that's all that matters, that she got you through it."

"Sarah didn't get me through this."

I looked back up at him, surprised.

He let a deep breath out through pursed lips. "Why did I say her name...?" he asked quietly, as though speaking to himself. "I think there will always be a part of me that loves her. And she'll always be a special person to me. You can't go through what we've been through and not always have feelings for them."

I nodded, not believing that we were discussing Sarah, that we were actually having this conversation. Jack had never been exactly OPEN about his past. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought, I mused.

"But what happened to US," he continuing, grabbing my attention immediately. "Made me realize that I can't keep holding on to her like I have been. That she isn't the MOST important thing in my life anymore." He looked rather awed by his admission. "Sam, you... you're the one who got us through this. Who got ME through this. You asked if I had any regrets... and I suppose my only one would be not having realized this all sooner."

This time, my smile was a little less stiff.

Jack put his hand back on mine, and I squeezed it.

"Jack! Sam! You're awake!"

Daniel Jackson stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open with a stunned, slightly dumb smile on his face. He was worried about us, I thought, and it made me feel nice.

Instantly another, older man pushed past Daniel and strode into the room; the customary white coat was a giveaway as to why he was here, but even if he hadn't been wearing it, the expression on his face was telling enough. He looked from me to Jack and back to me again. "Colonel, Captain," he said sternly. "I'm Dr. Spradlin. I'm very glad to see you're both awake, but you - especially YOU, Colonel - should not be up yet." He scowled disapprovingly at Jack, who wasn't in the least intimidated. "Let's get you back to your room," Spradlin continued. "And then," he growled, "We can find out where the hell my nurse was when you decided to go trekking around the infirmary."

I looked from face to face. My head still ached. "Wha--?"

Daniel smiled charmingly at me. "You and Jack have been in comas since we found you yesterday."

Spradlin ignored the exchange, obviously identifying O'Neill as his main concern. "Colonel. Bed. Now."

Jack limped to his feet again and looked down at me. "Are all you doctors so pushy, or just the ones I've had the pleasure of meeting?"

I tried to wrap my mind around the situation. "Jack... sir... you just woke up?"

He shrugged, and grimaced. "Well, I played possum for a couple hours... No beauty sleep, though, was it?"

"And you came--" First thing, I thought, my voice trailing off. *To see me.*

Jack smiled wryly, but behind his customary expression was sincerity, utter and honest.

* * *

Jack was herded back to his room then by an obviously overworked Spradlin, and I didn't see him until we were getting ready to be shipped back to the States the next day. I'd done a lot of thinking since then - and I made sure that I caught a few minutes alone with him.

"I lied," I said, before he could even utter a greeting. I was petrified I would loose my nerve. "About not having any regrets. If we had died there, I would have regretted not doing one thing."

And I kissed him.

*****

END
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~~~ Alli Snow ~~~
Devoted Mulder/Scully - Jack/Sam - Janeway/Chakotay shipper and all-around UST radar; Giants fan, kleptomaniac, schizophrenic willpowerless stalker chick.
"I just do what the little voices tell me to do."
"Some people say things they don't mean. Other people mean things they don't say."
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/6963/ AIM: RRalli00

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