In the first moments before he opened his eyes, he expected to see the inside of a sarcophagus. Or Ba'al's face swimming in and out in waves of red as O'Neill struggled for consciousness. He expected to feel sick, if not from pain, then from fear. But, gradually, he began to process what his senses were feeding him. He heard the dull hum of Cheyenne Mountain's ventilation system. He smelled the antiseptic of the infirmary. And he opened his eyes to a twilight glow of blonde hair and the clearest blue eyes he'd ever seen.
"Carter?"
Major Samantha Carter lay stretched on the cot beside his, on top of the covers, no longer in BDUs, long legs covered in black slacks, white blouse pulling across her chest. All of which should have made him forget everything that had hurt, that still hurt. Except she'd been crying.
"Sir?" She lifted up onto her elbow at the sound of his voice, pretended that everything was business as usual. "Hey. How are you feeling?"
He cleared his throat, dry from sleep. "A little tired. But...it's good to be home."
Carter nodded and tried to smile. It didn't wash.
"What are you doin' here?" he asked. "I thought you went home hours ago."
"I did."
"And yet...," he waved a vague hand, "...you're here."
Carter cleared her throat, sniffed lightly, but the sound hit him in the gut. Her head was heavily congested; she'd been crying for a while. "Yeah, I, uh...," she settled her head on her folded arms again, "I came back. I couldn't sleep."
He shifted on the hard infirmary mattress, managed to turn toward her a bit. "How come?"
"Can I get you anything, sir? Do you have enough water? I can--"
"Carter." He caught the slight flinch in the muscles beneath her eye. "How come?"
She shrugged her free shoulder, pulled her knees up a bit. The bed seemed too small for her slender length. "I guess I just, uh...I needed to know you were okay. I needed to be able to...*see* you."
He watched her for a long moment, not speaking. He doubted she had any idea how good it felt to have been missed so much, to come home to such warmth and need. Or how much it hurt to see her pain.
His silence hit her wrong, and she flushed with embarrassment. She pushed up again, hands soft and fumbling in her exhaustion. He wondered if she'd slept since he had left the Tok'ra. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll go."
"Don't." The one word was so simple. But it was everything he needed to say.
Carter stopped, eyes widening. "Don't?"
He shook his head. "Don't."
It took her a moment to digest, then she gradually folded her arm and settled her head once again.
They were quiet for a while.
"Sir? Was it...I mean...was it...," she pleaded gently with her eyes, and her openness made his chest hurt, "...bad?"
Jack cringed in reply, squinted across at his 2IC.
Carter got it all. She looked away, breathed out through her mouth and tried not to cry.
His hand moved instinctively to reach for her, but she was too far away. "Hey. It's all right. I'm all right."
She nodded, breath shaking, chest rising and falling out of rhythm. "Okay," she whispered. No eye contact.
He wished they were somewhere cold, so she could snuggle against his shoulder for warmth.
The tears in her eyes caught the glow of the hallway lights.
After a moment, he said, "I'm bettin' you've already got a pretty good idea what it was like."
Her sharp gaze caught his for a moment, and their thoughts connected, unspoken. *Jolinar.*
Carter swallowed hard. "Second hand," she said, as always, diminishing her own pains.
"Pretty damn first hand when you were screaming," he said, maybe a bit too harshly. But the emotion was real.
Carter closed her eyes.
They were quiet. Machinery hummed around them. Another patient's monitor beeped in the distance.
"It bites," Jack said at last.
Carter looked up at him, eyebrow lifted, almost surprised, still hurting. And yet, there was the faintest twinkle of light there; the familiar spark between them when he managed to use his lame sense of humor to keep her spirits alive. He never failed to be amazed when she responded. But making Carter smile was one of the few things in the world that made Jack believe he just might be a decent guy in the end.
She didn't answer. But somehow...things were better.
They lay together in the dimness.
He started to feel sleepy again. Torture could really take the wind out of a guy.
His eyes remained closed as he said, "Carter?"
"Sir?"
"I'm glad you're here."
He heard her soft exhale. "I'm glad you're here, too, sir."
"Sleep, Carter," he said simply.
He heard the weariness bleeding into her voice when she answered, "Good night, sir."
He should have sent her home, should have ordered her out of there and into the comfort of her own bed. But he couldn't give up on the slim chance she might still be there when he opened his eyes. The chance she might keep his dreams at bay.
*****
Story Notes: EMAIL: RowanD1@earthlink.net
RATING: (G)
ARCHIVE: SJD yes. All others fine, just let me know, please.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack UST, borders on hurt/comfort
SPOILERS: "The Abyss", "Jolinar's Memories"
Endless gratitude as always to my fabulous betas Polly Lynn, Fulinn, and AnnaK
RATING: (G)
ARCHIVE: SJD yes. All others fine, just let me know, please.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack UST, borders on hurt/comfort
SPOILERS: "The Abyss", "Jolinar's Memories"
Endless gratitude as always to my fabulous betas Polly Lynn, Fulinn, and AnnaK
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]