Title: To Take It Away

Author: Divine Joker (souls_darkangel@yahoo.com)

Rating: R (scenes of almost rape… beware!)

Spoilers: Uh… nada.

Summary: After an attack, Jack tries to get things right…

A/N: This is pretty much off of my usual track (hello, angst, nice to meet you!), but it's still me! So of course, it's S/J. This was a favour to Venom, who (in the middle of exams) demanded entertainment… with a specific plot line. Sheesh.

Archive: SJD and mine (We Need Fear Nothing…). Anyone else, please ask.

So for those of you who are sensitive…

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<<***>>

Steel tipped fingers of pain wrapped themselves around her head and forced her to clamp her throat on the scream that threatened to emerge. She turned her head to the side, bared her teeth and hissed as she was once again pushed against the cold, unforgiving rock wall.

"Carter!" The voice was tampered from travelling the fifty yards from where he stood and it echoed dully off of the same stonewalls that she was pushed against. But even with the distance, she could hear the fear and hatred laced through it.

For a brief insane moment, she thought that maybe those emotions were directed at her, but then her rational mind, which had silently retreated to the very back corner of her brain reminded her that there was no way that he would EVER hate her. Then rationale once again took leave and retreated from the horror that was playing out before her.

Heavy thumbs dug into her biceps, already bruised and sore from the minutes that he had been holding her there, but they had slowly gone numb. Along with the rest of her. Piece by piece, thought by thought she was slowly loosing her grip on reality, retreating into nothingness and mental freedom.

A stinging slap jarred her recalcitrant thoughts and brought her eyes level with the demon before her. Revulsion and anger wormed in her stomach, making her want to vomit on the smug grin plastered before her. Fear and desperation spurred her into moving frantically against the iron grip that held her in place, and her eyes burned hatred at the glowing emptiness that hovered before her.

"Carter!"

Again, the voice seemed hollow and desperate and her eyes snapped minutely to the left of those before her, skimming down the dank, mildewed hallway to meet those belonging to the voice that was screaming at her. Fifty yards didn't diminish the connection that they shared through those few seconds of eye contact and her eyes flickered worriedly over his body, checking him for any injuries.

He was standing fine, in between Teal'c and Jonas, his knuckles white around the rough iron bars that prevented him from getting to her. He struggled valiantly against the door, and as he did, she could see pain ripple across his features. He was hiding something from her; trying to be strong for her.

"Come here, you self-absorbed sack of shit! Take me on and I'll really give you something to think about!"

Sam closed her eyes against the desperation in his voice, knowing that if the Goa'uld before her did turn on him, he wouldn't be able to handle much more than she would. She struggled against the being before her to try and regain his attention back to her. She had to save him.

The Goa'uld was again focused on her and the Colonel's frantic calls for attention were lost as Sam once again retreated to within herself.

Until he pushed against her and his arousal dug into her hip. Reality gave her a mental slap and she panicked. Suddenly she began to writhe in his grasp, her previous thoughts of not putting up a fight lost in the frantic need to be away from him. The grip that he held on her arms felt like nothing as she strained to shove him off of her, her legs swinging and her fists trying to connect with his ribs.

Of course, against the heightened physical abilities of a Goa'uld her struggles were meaningless, and he just smiled smugly down at her, while one of his hands left her arms and began to trail over her body. Bile rose in her throat at the horror of his actions and her desperation fuelled a more desperate flail of her arms. Of course this proved meaningless and only added a chuckle to the arrogant grin plastered to his face.

Grey entered her vision and she would have gladly given herself to the peaceful oblivion if she had thought that it would have helped her. But she knew that if she woke up later, to know that this had happened to her, she wouldn't have been able to handle it, knowing that she didn't put up a valiant fight. She pushed the encroaching blackness away, but refused to open her eyes to him, throwing her head to the side and clenching her jaw against the curses and moans of despair that were sitting in her throat.

"Look at me." The distorted voice reached her ears along with his tepid breath; she repressed a gag, but didn't move. "You will listen to your god, Tau'ri, and LOOK AT ME!"

A thick hand placed itself around her throat and his thumb dug into her jaw, turning her face to him. He wanted submission? She opened her eyes to him, defiantly holding his gaze and not backing down, while slowly, under the guise of struggle, manoeuvred her legs to in between his. This Goa'uld was still a man, whatever he may think…

"You have spirit. You will make a good Queen one day…"

Suddenly two hands appeared on either side of the Goa'uld's head and a rough, venom-filled voice whispered, "Not today."

In a flash an arm slid around his throat followed swiftly by a dull crack of his neck. Surprise and confusion froze on the Goa'uld's face as his eyes flashed in death, and Sam could feel nothing but joy as it fell uncontrolled to the ground.

For two seconds she stared at the fallen figure and then mercifully exhaustion stole up from behind her eyes and she started to collapse towards her saviour. She couldn't feel much at that moment, but the warmth of his hands as her caught her burned her chilled spirit.

<<***>>

Jack handed her still form to the tall Jaffa behind him before he went about railing on the dead body. Uncontrollable rage and derision flowed from his wrenched heart to his feet and he kicked the prone form with a vengeance. Jonas and the other rebel Jaffa who had released them stood passively by for a few moments, allowing him to vent his hatred before Jonas stepped forward and laid a hand on the Colonel's shoulder.

Jack turned on his friend and it took a few split seconds before recognition burst to him and he held back from hitting the Kelownan. Jonas looked at him apprehensively, his hand still resting on Jack's shoulder and the Colonel shrugged it off in annoyance. Finally he turned back to Teal'c and took Sam's still unconscious form from him.

He settled her into his embrace and then turned to the other two members of SG-1 and the Jaffa who had helped them from their cell.

"Come on. We have to move fast."

Luckily for them, no one seemed to notice that the minor, minor Goa'uld was missing, and they could move pretty freely under the guise of being escorted by the two other, still uniformed Jaffa.

The gate was only a few hundred feet from the exit of the compound and they were there and signalling the gate on Earth within minutes of leaving the damp underground.

Mercifully, he stepped into the horizon and back into their safe haven.

Immediately he was swarmed by nurses and medics, which he angrily threw off, cursing loudly.

"Don't touch her!" he spotted Janet looking over Jonas. "Doc, I'm heading to the infirmary." He didn't so much as put her on a gurney but turned a swiftly stormed from the gate room, leaving a very concerned General and confused doctor staring after him.

He could hear Janet issuing orders as she left the room to follow him.

"Colonel…"

"In the infirmary, Doc."

"Colonel…" she tried again, laying hand on his arm to try and slow him down.

He turned on her, and she was scared. She physically stepped back from him, his eyes bloodshot with anger and fear and his hands trembling under the continued weight of the Major lying in his arms.

"In the infirmary." She responded.

He turned and continued on the way.

Once they reached the room, he glanced around and laid her on the first empty bed there, stepping away to pull around one of the curtains. As he moved, one of the surprised nurses stepped forward, intending to start checking her and Jack turned on her, threateningly close in his movements.

"No!" He yelled frantically, barely keeping himself from throwing the scared lieutenant from her place next to the bed. "Me and Fraiser, that's it!"

He didn't register the tears that had sprung into her eyes, and he forcefully pulled the curtain tight into itself, sealing them within their sterile haven. Softly murmured words crept through the fabric and then Janet came into the circle, her shoulders squared to the wrath of the distraught Colonel.

Jack stepped to the side for the first time since coming through the gate and let the skilled doctor do her work. Silently and methodically, the small capable woman moved around Sam, cutting off her shirt and forcing Jack to tie on the stale white hospital gown.

"Colonel…" she said, trying to regain his attention after nearly three-quarters of an hour of inspection. He was frozen, his eyes glued to the pale face before him. Sam still hadn't woken up and it was beginning to worry Janet.

"Jack." She tried again and succeeded in pulling his gaze from Sam. "I need to give her and MRI and other tests. Other people are going to have to help me." Her voice was calm, but laced with emotion and it was enough to snap Jack from his mental withdrawal.

"Okay."

As Janet predicted, the Colonel stayed next to the gurney as it rolled through the hallways. His earlier outburst had been warning enough that no one should get in the way of him or his company in the next couple of hours and entire hallways emptied when he rounded corners. Everyone at base respected Jack O'Neill, but no one wanted to cross him.

Especially where Major Samantha Carter was involved.

He stood guard while Sam was put through the various machines and remained on guard after she had been brought back to the infirmary. He had retreated to a small, separate corner to stay out of Janet's way and had pulled up a chair to sit stiffly in. He rolled his neck to the side, trying to relieve the tension that had built up and was looking for release.

Finally, Janet approached him.

"Nothing's broken. Nothing's out of place. And though she does have a concussion, she just needs to rest right now." She eyed him accusingly. "So do you. And I'm ordering you to bed, after you see the General."

"Doc, I'm taking her home if she needs to rest. She'll be more relaxed at home."

"No, Colonel, you're not taking her home now." She stepped to the side, allowing a nurse to pass behind her and away from the still agitated Colonel. This conversation was not going to help his mood. "You are going to sleep – on base – AFTER you see the General."

"Doc…"

"Colonel…" she paused, her eyes flittering to her friends, still lying unmoved on the infirmary bed. "Even if that Goa'uld didn't do anything to her physically other than bruises, the moment he thought of ra…" she swallowed, horrified by the reality of Sam's ordeal, "the moment he so much as thought of touching her, he had screwed with her mentally." Jack looked to the ground guiltily, away from Janet's tender gaze. "As much as Sam loves you and trusts you with her life… Jack, you're still a man, and right now…" Janet shook her head. "I'll take her home and stay with her tonight."

"Janet…"

She had worked with this man for seven years and this was the first time that she ever remembered him calling her by her first name. She didn't let her surprise show.

"I need to be there. Even if I don't stay, I have to be there when she wakes up."

She stared at him for a moment, gauging his desperation and sincerity. She knew him almost as well as Sam, had learned to read his moods through his facial expressions and stance. But there was something else that she was seeing here; something more intrinsic then a friend wanting to help a friend. This was a man wanting to help the woman he loved.

Instantly she caved, knowing that there was no way she could live with herself if she turned him down. She compromised.

"I get off at 18:00." She glanced at her watch. "Four hours. I want you to see the General and then I want you to get your ass to the VIP's on 23 and sleep until I come and get you. Is that clear?"

He paused for a moment, considering his option and then nodded at her sagely. "Yes, ma'am. Can I just…" he pointed feebly to Sam, his eyes masked in worry. Janet stepped out of the way and allowed him to walk over to her bedside. She watched as he bent over her, his hand gently cupping her face for a few seconds before he stood, visibly squared his shoulders and then headed from the room with a purposeful stride.

She had never seen the man this distraught.

And Sam had died before.

<<***>>

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Jack stood in the General's door and responded to the kind summons to enter and take a seat. His leg twitched nervously as he waited for the General to begin, and he avoided making eye contact. He knew that he was acting out of character, but what had happened left nothing hidden anymore.

"Jack… How are you doing?"

All Jack could do was huff in sarcastic amusement.

General Hammond closed his eyes resignedly and moved on to his next question. "Doctor Fraiser tells me that the Major's going to be alright. Nothing greater then bruises. Physically, at least."

"Physically," Jack murmured in assent.

"So, now I need to know what you need from me, Jack." He was straightforward and kind in his tone, brokering no room for argument. "She's the best we have and we'll do anything to get her back on her feet."

"I know."

They sat in companionable silence for a while and Jack considered his CO. There was a lot about that man that many people didn't know. His devotion to his children and grandchildren. His devotion to his job. His entire commitment to his friends. And his willingness to compromise his duty for the happiness of those deserving.

If ever Jack had had a brother in arms, General Hammond was it.

"I'd like some personal leave, sir."

"Done." Hammond said it without hesitation.

<<***>>

When Janet found him later, he was passed out face down on his bad. She was almost tempted to let him sleep, but knew that he would wring her neck if she left base with Sam and without him.

"Sir?"

She was almost afraid to touch him, given the nature of his actions earlier in the afternoon. He might strike out at her before he knew what he was doing. However, he didn't respond to her.

"Colonel?" She said a little louder and with a steadier voice. He shifted.

Well, that was a start.

"Colonel O'Neill!"

His reaction was instantaneous and Janet really was glad that she had stayed away from the bed, but not because of a potential lashing; he flipped over onto his back, straight off of the bed.

"Damn it! Doc! What the hell?" He was completely disoriented and stared up at her accusingly.

"I called you three times, sir." She said with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

His mouth opened, releasing a delayed, "Oh." He shifted and then moved to get up from the cold floor. He grimaced.

"Carrying a hundred and twenty pounds of Sam Carter isn't good for the knees," he muttered, rubbing a hand over and through his errant hair.

"No, I don't suppose it is." Janet turned to the door. "She woke up half and hour ago, but pretty much fell right back to sleep. I'm off in twenty minutes and then we're going, alright?"

Jack nodded and headed out the door behind the doctor, following her along the corridors and down the elevator ride, like a lost dog following a saviour. He broke from her trail the moment that they entered the infirmary, however and headed straight for the Major who was lying awake staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Carter." He said casually, trying to belie the anxiety that was screaming at him from within. "Wanna go home?"

For a second, fear flashed across her features and Jack hurriedly went on to include Janet in their movement.

"Janet's off in fifteen and said that she'd drive us all over to your house. She wants to stay overnight with you just to make sure that your concussion isn't too serious." He pointed over his shoulder, out into the dim hallway. "I've gotta come back later to finish some paperwork, but I thought I'd buy us all some dinner."

Hopefully with her knowing that he wouldn't be staying the night she might relax a little more in his presence. And she did.

She gave him a small smile, barely there, but it did touch her eyes and she looked to him with such care and affection that his heart nearly broke again for the third time that day.

He graced her with a smile of his own, and turned again to the door where Janet now stood, holding a pile of folded BDU's. Jack took them from her and turned back to Sam.

"So, uh, how bout you get out of that flatteringly ugly hospital gown and we'll hit the road?"

She plucked loathingly at the stiff cotton that adorned her and then turned back to him, accepting the clothes. She cleared her throat.

"Uh, sir?"

"Hmmm?" he said, his foot mere inches from the doorway. After a silent moment he turned to face her fully, his form casting the light from the hallway into lines upon the cold, grey floor. Sam looked up into his eyes.

"Thai?"

<<***>>

And so it went. For three straight nights, Janet would drive Sam home, much to her dismay, and Jack would show up an hour later, toting whatever had been the Major's craving of the afternoon. Movies passed through her player at an alarming rate, and not much was spoken between the three of them, but the air of familiarity was enough to put the friends at ease, even in the midst of such memories.

Normally, Jack would have left after the second movie, complaining of backlog and early meetings, both of which were true, but both of which he would have gladly put off in favour of his friend. The first night he had almost stayed longer, seeing the look of pain and memory flash over Sam's face, but after a small glance at Janet, he smiled regretfully and made his exit.

Normally, Jack would have been gone by now.

He found himself sitting comfortably on the floor, amazingly comfortably if he thought about it, considering his old bones. He looked to Janet, lying crookedly in the chair across from him, her head lolling to the left in her sleep. Some hair had fallen from her much-too-professional bun and swayed gently from her mouth in time with her breathing. She had to uncomfortable.

Sam, however…

Sam lay sprawled on the couch that he was leaning against, her head lying down behind his and Jack could have easily been distracted by the feel of her breath flowing teasingly past his neck if her hand hadn't been splayed over his shoulder. In the restless sleep that she had fallen into twenty minutes into their second movie, her arm had shifted and come to a rest just behind his head. She hadn't touched him, but a few moments later her hand had moved to curl over his shoulder and fold into the collar of his shirt.

Occasionally she would move her fingers and Jack was forced to respect the fact that the last thing she needed right now was… well, him.

Regardless of the steady breathing surrounding him, Jack was wired. No beer had been consumed either due to the medication that Janet suggested that Sam take to help her sleep and still, Jack couldn't seem to relax.

Horrific images of the Goa'uld's back shifting above Sam as she was thrown back against the wall, faded into the glorified feeling of power as he had watched the slime bucket fall to the ground, instantly dead from his own hands. Dozens of times since they had climbed back through the gate, the look of pleading and anger that Sam had shared with him for mere moments along that cold, damp hallway had flickered like a movie through his mind, and wouldn't allow him to close his eyes.

The fact that he had passed out earlier on in the afternoon was a miracle of medicinal proportions.

Thank God for impressionable young lieutenant nurses.

But looking at Janet, and feeling Sam shift uneasily behind him, he felt as if he should do something for them.

Luckily, he knew where Sam's guest bedroom was and gently, hoping that she wouldn't wake, Jack picked up the sleeping doctor and carried her lightly through the quiet house. Nothing embarrassing came from it, she slept silently in his arms the whole way, shifting only when he placed her on the mattress. Smiling at his friend he moved back out to the last sleeping person.

He knelt next to her head and laid his hand over hers. He was hesitant to pick her up without her knowing who it was because she could potentially have a flashback and he would be on the receiving end of it.

"Carter?"

She sighed and burrowed into the pillow under her head, but made no further signs that she was awake.

"Sam? Sam, you have to wake up a little, okay?" He kept his voice low and even, his tone soft and open and watched happily as she slowly opened her eyes.

Her glazed eyes smiled for a mere second before she coiled back into the couch.

"Jesus!"

Instinctively, Jack shrank from her, drawing himself away, hopefully as a sign that he didn't want to hurt her. He could see the beat of her heart, steady and powerful in her jugular, adrenaline forcing her to be awake in the presence of a threat. She froze, her eyes darting to try and assess the threat, only to find that it was just Jack, sitting in front of her.

"For fuck's sake, sir!" She swore, sitting up and furiously making her way into the kitchen.

He had wanted her awake. He hadn't wanted her homicidal.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but you didn't look to comfortable on the couch and I have to go back to base." He stopped in the kitchen doorway, conscious of keeping his distance form her, knowing that she was still able to flashback on him and cause him some serious damage.

She froze next to the counter, her hands bracing her on either side, hands flat on the Formica.

He stood in his spot, blatantly ignoring that every fibre of his being was screaming at him to go to her. His hands twitched. His knees bent and he stumbled forward a step.

"Carter?"

"It's okay, sir." Her hands shifted, but stayed glued to the countertop. Her voice was empty, dead to his ears and his muscles moved him one step closer. Her shoulder twitched as her head rolled forward.

"Sam, I know that you're everything but okay…" he hoped that it didn't sound nearly as trite as he thought it did and was fairly content when she didn't show too much of a reaction. Her shoulders squared, but her head stayed forward. A sound, suspiciously like a sniff came from under the covering of blonde hair.

Again, unbidden, his feet moved him forward. Some more, careful to make enough noise to let her know that he was moving, but not enough to break her mood. She needed to wind down.

"God, it hurts…"

"Sam." Jack stepped forward for the last time, until he could feel her heat, feel the occasional brush of her clothes against him, but didn't reach out to touch her. If she needed him, she would reach for him.

She didn't move from her sentinel over the counter and she held her breath for a long moment before she continued. Her voice dug straight into his chest cavity, hollowing out his lungs and leaving him holding his breath. It wormed and dug and twisted and burrowed until it found it's home deep inside leaving his heart literally aching.

She didn't stutter. She didn't even hiccough through her tears. The monotone drone of her experience chiselled through his own exterior and he felt tears prick behind his eyes.

Share and share alike, he thought humourlessly as his first tear fell.

He stood, listening to her pain, releasing her anger and frustration in fits of dialogue. He didn't move. He didn't shuffle, fidget or even look around the kitchen. He was captivated, enthralled by the rush of emotions that could accumulate in just fifteen minutes of mental and physical torture.

And then, as she slowed, her voice finally halting and cracking, just as he was going to take a step back and give her some room to move, she shifted infinitesimally towards him; a soft petal responding to the pull of his gravity. She wavered, undecided and Jack watched with utter fascination as the Major slipped out of uniform and left behind only Samantha Carter, hurt, sad and alone.

"I don't want it to hurt." She said, finally turning to him, her hand reaching out to grasp his.

"It doesn't have to. Let me help…" he said, bending to catch her lowered eyes. He gently squeezed her hand and thrilled at the return she gave him. "I want to help it hurt less…"

Something snapped inside of him, opened him up wide and made him vulnerable to her and at that moment in time, he couldn't have cared less. She was everything that he needed to heal himself, and he was everything she needed to help her get through this.

Janet had been right when she had talked to him in the infirmary. He was still a man, even to her… but he was something more, something that neither one of them could avoid. As the man who loved her, he was precisely what she needed to know that she could still be whole and happy after what had happened.

He was amazed by these thoughts, not knowing where it was that they came from. He was so caught up with what it was that he was thinking that he responded automatically to the tug on his hand. Following her direction, he wrapped his arms around her, one hand rising to cradle her head against his shoulder. He felt no tell- tale dampness permeate his flannel shirt and wondered at the strength that the woman in his arms had to not cry, but to mourn.

He found his fingers weaving through her hair, gently soothing her while she leaned into him. The dull pain receded with every moment that she spent in his arms, drawing from his strength and friendship and ironically, Jack felt himself healing from her dependence of him.

His blinding rage, cold-blooded hatred and remorseless killing of the other day receded in the light of the fact that she was here. He had done his job. Even though he may not have completed it with the greatest of ease, the end result would regardless be the same.

She was there, in his arms for the moment.

"Thank you." She shuddered, and just when he expected her to pull away, she burrowed her head closer to him.

"Thank you." He whispered back.

She huffed and then pulled back to look at him, moving in such a way that said that she wanted him to keep his arms where they were. "What for?"

He shrugged, blinking slowly at the site of her blue eyes staring up at him so intently. "It's nice to see Sam leave Doctor Major Carter at the base once in while." A look of shock passed over her recently relaxed face and for a moment Jack thought that his mouth had gotten him into a whole shit-load of trouble until he realized what that had sounded like. "I don't appreciate your pain, Sam; I would put up with Doctor Major Carter for the rest of my life if I knew that she wasn't hiding a boat full of pain and regret. But reality is that we deal with the undesirable everyday, it's what we do, and to see you deal with it…" he shrugged again, "I feel better for you."

Her face went back to its relaxed features and Jack graced her with a small, grateful smile. She leaned forward and let her forehead rest against his chin, her nose slightly brushing his collarbone. She took a deep breath and Jack suppressed a shiver as she slowly released it and sent it skittering down the front of his shirt. He cleared his throat and awkwardly took a step back.

"I'm uh… I've got some more work to do…" he faltered, leaving his hands resting on her shoulders and keeping her away from him.

She arched an eyebrow and smiled coyly at him. "I think you've done more work in the last three days that you have in the last month."

She had finally called his bluff, and he stood staring at her, his surprise evident.

"Well," he cleared his throat, and took another step back, his hand finally leaving her shoulders. "Janet said that maybe…"

He broke off as she caught his falling hands and gently, but firmly pulled him back. "Janet says some things on the side of precaution," she said, moving past him, but retaining her grip on his hands and forcing him to come with her. "I think that advice ran out tonight."

Her footsteps were soft down the hardwood hallway, followed by his own socked feet. He didn't know what to make of the fact that Sam was leading him to her room.

At the doorway, she turned to him and furrowed her brow at him. "I just… I don't want…"

"I know." He said, confidently, his fingers rising to run along the bruise along her jaw.

Silently, softly and carefully they shed their clothes to their underwear and slipped under the covers, her back folding perfectly in to his embrace. He kept his touch light and refused to wrap an arm around her waist, not wanting he to wake up in the middle of the night with a new fear born of his presence. She accepted his loose embrace with a sigh and laced her fingers with his before slowly succumbing to a restful sleep.

Jack was awake for a few moments longer, able to see her breathing even out and become regular.

There was a way to go, but this was a good solid step.

Content with his situation, Jack closed his eyes, took in the smell of her hair and let his mind wander to coming days were fear and regulations wouldn't deter what their hearts had decided.

~FIN~

Feedback is desired to the greatest degree. Flames, constructive or otherwise, are accepted with a grain of salt. I hope that you did enjoy it! souls_darkangel@yahoo.com