AN: Chapters 1 and 2 take place in S10 between the episodes of Momento Mori and Company of Thieves; Chapter 3 immediately after CoT; Chapter 4 is taken directly from The Quest Part 2, written by Joseph Mallozzi and Paul Mullie. No copyright infringement intended.
DEMONS IN THE DARK
Sam rolled over expecting to find the solid warmth and security of Jack's body.
Except it wasn't there.
There was just an empty space in the bed, a still warm indentation in the pillow, a comforter half-tossed back.
She raised up on her elbows and tried to focus in the darkness, but thunderstorms had blown in late and although the front had moved on, the remaining clouds had left the night steeped in utter blackness.
"Jack?" she half-whispered, still trying to pierce the indelible dark. There was no answer—at first—and then she heard a barely audible sigh.
"Yeah," came a voice from the general direction of where two chairs sat.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Sam."
She could tell by the hollowness of his voice that the "nothing" was a lie. It was always a lie. One he would persist at, no matter how many times she woke to find him like this.
She used to think the nightmares were the worst of it. The first time he'd had one, after they were together, he'd startled her awake with his shouts and thrashing about. It had taken her a minute or two to realize he was still asleep. Longer than that to actually wake him up. He hadn't even recognized her at first—and the terror in his eyes for those few uncertain seconds had truly scared her.
He'd said it was "nothing" that time too; and because they had been so newly together, she hadn't pushed him on it, even if she did lay awake for a long time afterward, listening to his uneven breathing as he wrestled in silence with whatever it was that had tormented him.
The next time she hadn't let him get away with it so easily; but he had still refused to tell her, taking her in his arms, instead, and burying his face in the back of her neck, pretending to sleep.
"A bad dream," was all he would answer the next morning. "Just…crap. It's nothing. Forget about it."
So she had tried. Until the next time. And the time after that. And the time after that.
"Maybe you should see someone," she had suggested tentatively, looking at his drawn and haggard face over breakfast one morning after it had taken nearly ten minutes to wake him from the terrors of the night before. He'd given her one of his, rare for her, Jack glares that pretty much told her what he thought of her suggestion, so she hadn't brought it up again.
It had taken months, but the nightmares had eventually subsided. At least the thrashing, screaming, shaking nightmares. But they had been replaced , in Sam's view, by something worse. Much worse.
Silence.
At least with the nightmares, she knew when something was wrong. And although he would never tell her what it was, he had finally gotten to the point where he would accept her comfort, holding her—or sometimes being held by her--until the shaking stopped and whatever horrible images he'd endured had faded. And those were only on the rare nights they spent together. She didn't dare think of what happened when they were apart, which had happened more and more after Jack's transfer to DC. Every time she thought of him waking up from one of the dreams to find himself alone…it made her heart ache for him a thousand different ways.
But the silent dreams were the worse, because she never knew when they came. She had wondered how many times, exhausted from a mission or from days on-base researching ways to defend against the Ori threat, she had slept through his terrors, missed his exodus from their bed and his lone sleepless vigil in the dark before slipping back under the covers before her alarm went off. She should have caught on sooner, she knew. Should have realized from his weary smile, his shadowy eyes, his subdued humor that the night before had not gone well. Finally she had awakened one night and discovered him, sitting alone in the dark.
It had been "nothing" then, too. But a distant and remote nothing. And even when she had gotten up and put her arms around him in the dark, she'd felt his muscles tense at her touch rather than relax as he had always managed to before. And she'd known, somehow, this was different. Deeper. More disturbing. More soul-shattering.
It had taken a lot, but she'd coaxed him back to bed, trundled him in her arms like a child, waiting for the relaxation of his muscles, the slow steady rhythm of his breathing, the blissful oblivion to steal in. Except it hadn't. She had fallen asleep first and found him showered and drinking coffee in the kitchen the next morning, up earlier than even she. He looked like he hadn't slept one bit, and she'd kicked herself for failing him. But he'd waved away her concern, gotten her to drop the subject with one look, and so she had left it alone. Again.
And now this.
"Jack. It's not nothing. And I'm not going back to sleep until you talk to me."
A stubborn silence.
She slid from beneath the sheets and went to him, finally making out his dark form in the midst of the relentless shadows. Kneeling on the floor beside him she fumbled for his hands. They were clammy and cold as stone.
"I just want to help," she pleaded. "Stop shutting me out."
The silence was as thick as the night for several beats. And then:
"I'm not trying to shut you out, Sam. I'm just…I'm just trying to shut this in. And don't…" he added even as the words were forming on her lips. "Don't tell me I need to talk about it, cuz it's not going to happen."
That was the most she had ever gotten out of him, she realized. No denial, this time. Just a plea to leave it alone. Which she would. For the moment, anyway.
Standing, she walked behind where he sat and draped her arms around his neck.
"At least come back to bed," she suggested, kissing him gently on the cheek. His hands grasped hers, they already seemed warmer.
"Yeah. Sure." he murmured and he let her lead him back to the bed.
And this time she did stay awake long after he had finally drifted off, her mind busy planning what she had to do next.