This is my first continuous multi chapter SG1 fic. I have always struggled to come up with plots for anything other than one or two shots and suddenly this one comes and won't leave me alone.
This fic starts directly after the events of 2001.
Warning: Trust me
Jack sits at Sam's bedside, trying not to stare as she slept. She had dropped through the gate at an alarming speed and as a result she had a broken collar bone and concussion. As soon as Kinsey was gone, Carter had briefed Hammond and everyone had gone home he'd made his way to the infirmary and found a spot right next to her. He doesn't know how long he's been sat there but he has no intention of leaving. He just needs to know that she's okay. He'd wanted to do so much more than what he'd been able to do in front of Kinsey, he'd forced himself to stay exactly where he was as she writhed in pain in front of him.
The last year has been trying in more ways that one. Just over a year ago they had been forced to confess their feelings in front of people. Everything from that moment has seemed so much harder than it used to be. Every time he thinks that he's got a grip on his feelings for Carter something happens to remind him that he's wrong. Between ice planets, aliens with crushes, numerous near death experiences and close calls he has barely had the chance to get to grips with the enormity of their confessions and her subsequent shut down of any further conversation about the situation. He's proud of how they've carried themselves but he's tired, really, really tired.
It was less than a year ago that he killed her, he'd shot her twice and watched as she'd dropped to the floor. He'd spent a whole 24 hours mourning her loss as she lay lifelessly in the infirmary, listening on to the sound of the machines keeping her breathing. When the entity had first taken over her body he was so angry, angry that the bastard thing had got anywhere near her and that he'd allowed her anywhere near it. After her "death" he was numb, unable to feel anything but the deep ache in the centre of his chest. He remembers sitting at her bedside, asking the Doc to give him a little longer with her before she turned off the life support machine, unsure of exactly how he would cope when she took her final, artificial breath.
He shudders now, thinking of what his life would be like now if she had died, if he'd killed her. It had taken weeks for the nightmares about that day to cease but since that moment he's become more and more aware of just how quickly she could be taken from him.
He remembers Hammond pulling him aside shortly after Carter had woken up, congratulating him on how he'd handled the situation, explaining that he understood just how difficult it must have been. Jack hadn't said a word, he'd nodded, left the base and drank himself into oblivion.
He'd thought it ironic that one of the worst moments of his SGC career could now be used to prove that he is capable of treating Carter like any other member of his team. He thinks about his reaction to her today, he'd barely flinched as she fell through the gate and he wonders if he is treating her just like he would Daniel and Teal'c, he sighs, he isn't. If that had been Daniel he would have reached for him, helped him up, helped him to get to the infirmary. He wonders if, in trying to treat her the same as the others, he's in fact treating her worse.
She frowns and moans in her sleep and he reaches for her, stopping just short of touching her, stopping himself before he does something that could be seen as inappropriate. It's getting harder to stop himself, harder to pretend that he doesn't feel anything for her. Every time that she is in harm's way or ends up in the infirmary it chips away at him. Every time something like this happens, something that reminds him how easily either one of them could be killed without ever having had the chance to show the other how they feel, he takes a step closer to breaking the regs and, if he's really honest with himself, it's starting to become unbearable.
He takes a deep breath, wiping his palm across his face. He is her superior officer. He doesn't want to do anything that could make her feel uncomfortable or jeopardise her career. She asked him to leave it in the room and that's what he's going to have to do. If she can cope with it then he can too.
"Sir." He looks up and finds her staring at him with tired eyes.
"Hey Carter, how's the head?" he asks with a soft smile.
"Okay," she mumbles, choosing not to tell him that her head is in fact pounding. "Broken?" she asks nodding towards her collar bone.
"Yep, nice clean break though. No surgery. But no gate travel for a few weeks either."
"Downtime?" she asks.
"Just for you, SG1 has a mission next week."
"Sorry Sir-"
"Nothing to be sorry about. You saved the world, again."
She winces and swallows a groan as a jolt of pain travels up her collar bone. He shifts forward and his fingers skim hers, he'd meant it as an act of comfort, for them both, but regrets it right away. She glances at their touching hands and he pulls away. "Uh, I-" he stops as her fingers tighten around the tips of his and her eyes meet his. There is a flash of wordless communication and he takes a small step forward, his hand shifting in hers until their fingers are intertwined. He watches as she takes a deep breath as they allow themselves this forbidden moment and just like that, he knows that she too is struggling with the events of the last year.
"Major Carter," they are shaken by a voice coming from the other side of the curtain. He takes a step back and immediately misses the feel of her fingers against his as she struggles to meet his eye, the spell has been well and truly broken. He recovers and pulls the curtain to reveal the person who had fallen through the gate just seconds after Carter had, Joe Faxon.
Thank you for reading. Thank you in advance for any comments, kudos or reviews. I would love to know what you think.
