A little something just for fun. No back story. Season 8

A/N edit: I made a minor change due to a very justified criticism from LAIsobel.

Jack O'Neill was struggling. It didn't happen that often, with everything he had been through over the course of his career, but right now he was struggling. How on earth had General Hammond – George, he reminded himself – dealt with this? Potatoes, for cryin' out loud? Did he really have to deal with this? He let out a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. Just a moment, he thought when he closed his eyes. He opened them after what felt like maybe 90 seconds to Sam Carter entering his office. Lt. Col. Samantha Carter, leader of SG1, in olive BDUs and a standard black top. Normally that sight – of her, no matter what she wore – would have lightened his mood. But the look on her face told of trouble. More trouble. Again. He sighed and tried to keep his annoyance out of his eyes and his voice as he asked:

"Colonel?"

She didn't answer. God he really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Anything I might have the pleasure of doing for you?" he demanded with more sarcasm that she had heard from him in a long time. It was a wake up call. Don't mess with this General. Not right now.

She snapped to attention. For a moment he thought she might salute him. Relaxing just the tiniest bit she said:

"Sir, I need to talk to you about the mission."

Jack lifted an eyebrow.

"What about the mission? We briefed, you're going."

"With all due respect, sir" – he thought he had heard just the smallest stress on the last word – "I don't feel exactly comfortable about that planet."

In Jack's mind he started a letter to George apologizing for having been such a pain in the ass subordinate.

"And why would that be?"

Sam flinched. Did she just shrug?

"I don't know. Gut feeling?"

Jack ran out of patience.

"Carter, you're the most brilliant brain on the planet, and all you can come up with is gut feeling? I'm sorry, I'm not buying this. Do I have to discuss every little order I give? Get your team together and get the hell going."

This time she actually did salute him, accompanied by a sharp "Yes, sir!" complete with textbook turn on her heel and left his office.

Half an hour later he was in the 'gate room watching SG1 preparing to leave. He made eye contact with Carter and nodded towards the door. She followed him instantly.

"Sir?"

"Carter, I'm sorry about the way I treated you in my office. I'm under a bit of stress here. I think I know what your problem is. You're worried about being in command. But you have done that before and you will be fine. And it's about time you get more practice anyway. Besides, from the intel we got from our allies this should be a walk in the park for you. We cool?"

She smiled at him and nodded. With a little tilt of his head he dismissed her. When she turned around to face her teammates, the smile had gone from her face, and there was something in her eyes that could have been panic.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Walter announced. Jack headed to the control room. "It's SG1, sir. They reported enemy fire."

The wormhole established and drew back, and in the very next moment Daniel stumbled through the gate under fire, followed by Teal'c who was carrying Sam.

"Shut the iris! Medical team to the gate room immediately", Jack ordered already halfway down the stairs.

"Teal'c? Report!"

"ColonelCarter is severely injured, O'Neill. The information we were given is incorrect. The inhabitants are hostile."

Jack watched in horror as Teal'c laid Sam down on the gurney. She was covered in blood, deadly pale and unmoving. It wasn't until the medics team had left with her that he noticed both Teal'c and Daniel were injured as well. The Jaffa didn't put any weight on his left leg and Jackson's BDUs were dark with blood on his shoulder and his hip. He swaggered and fell to his knees. Teal'c clung to the wall for support. Jack had two more gurneys brought to the gateroom and joined his friends as they were taken to the infirmary after Sam.

Jack paced the corridor in front of the infirmary. Daniel and Teal'c were sound asleep after their wounds had been tended to, but Janet was still working on Sam. She had thrown him out with the fierce will of the doctor, not giving a shit about his rank. She had said she would let him know as soon as she could, but he just couldn't bring himself to leave. This was all his fault. His orders, his decision. His unwillingness to listen to her doubts. What an arrogant son of a bitch he had been to think it was about her being afraid of taking command. And now she was in there, probably more dead than alive, fighting for her life. What if she didn't make it? He was absolutely sure if that was going to happen, he would retire. Take the consequences of his decision. Screw his career, his pension, the SGC. He knew he wouldn't be able to ever forgive himself. If Samantha Carter died because he hadn't listened to her, his life would fall apart. He knew the dark place he would go to too well. He had been there when Charlie died. Another life he should have guarded. Another death he was responsible for. Oh god please let her live. Whatever it takes please let her live.

Janet opened the door and looked at him, pale and worn and barely on her feet anymore. She flinched when she saw the look he gave her, all emotion plain and raw in his eyes, on the edge of breaking.

"She's in a coma, sir. I can't tell if she will live."

Jack stood in shock, unable to move, unable to say anything, resting one hand on the wall. Janet took a step and stood close. "I am sorry, Jack..." She couldn't remember if she had ever called him by his first name before, but right now it felt right. Two people worried about a mutual friend.

"Can I see her?"

His voice was hoarse. She just nodded and took a step back to let him in.

He got close to the bed and looked down at her. So ridiculously pale, with tubes and cables attached to her body, her breathing done by the machine. His knees gave way. He held on to the chair next to the bed but didn't sit. For a moment he lingered, then he turned and left the infirmary almost running to bury himself in his quarters. When he got there he sank to the floor with his back to the wall. He embraced the blazing pain that shot through his knees when he brought them up, knowing he deserved it. He rested his forehead on them, and all the time the words ran through his mind like a mantra "Please let her live, please..."

Days went by, the rest of SG1 recovering relatively quickly, but Sam lay unchanged. Jack went about the daily business on autopilot. One night about a week after SG1 had returned he was working through his paperwork – or rather staring at it not getting anywhere with it – when his phone rang.

"O'Neill?" You could tell from his voice how tired he was, how sore and worn out and shaken.

"She's just oped her eyes, General."

Janet. Oh my god that was Janet telling him Sam was back. He was so relieved he couldn't say anything. He closed his eyes and fought back the tears.

"I'm coming." Hoarse and cracked and still on the edge of collapsing. On his way to the infirmary he struggled to get himself under control. It took every bit of training and all his discipline, but by the time he made it there he was calm. Or at least he would appear to be.

She looked straight at him when he entered the room. He took the chair next to her bed and held her gaze.

"Hey", he greeted her, his voice low but stable.

She couldn't seem to say anything, but she managed a tiny smile. He cleared his throat.

"Don't ever do that again, colonel. That's an order. Am I clear?"

Her smile widened a little, and briefly closing her eyes, she nodded - a movement so small he almost didn't catch it. He wasn't sure if maybe he had just imagined it, but it sounded like she had answered:

"Chrystal..."

A few days later, when Janet had allowed the first few bites of solid food, Jack came by the infirmary and brought blue jello. She seemed happy to see him – but then again Carter was happy about jello no matter who brought it. He watched her eat and gathered his courage. Not looking at her he rushed out:

"I'm so incredibly sorry, Carter. I know I don't deserve you to forgive me, and if you want to press charges against me, I'll fully cooperate. I'm just so relieved I - we have you back! I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry..."

She lowered her spoon and looked at him.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, sir."

His head fell to his chest for a moment, and then he pulled himself together.

"Oh yes, there is. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. You came to me and told me you had a bad feeling about that mission and I didn't trust you. I ordered you there straight to disaster when I should have trusted your instincts as you have trusted mine a million times. I thought it was about taking command. What an arrogant bastard I was not to see that you had a point there, you with all your brains and all your experience. If we'd lost you -"

'I couldn't have lived with it. With your life upon me I'd just come undone...'

"You didn't - lose me, I mean."

She looked tired, her eyes heavy now, but she moved her hand a little towards him. He took it most carefully between his, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

"No, we didn't. We got you back."

She smiled the smallest of smiles and closed her eyes. She was asleep in an instant. He held on to her hand for a very long time afterward.