My first story, and my first finished SG-1 fic!

I warn you, this is angsty, and fluffy. Very fluffy. Like, gives-you-warm-fuzzies fluffy :D I wrote it very quickly, had my beta (BethBrokes, she rocks!) read it through, and she urged me to put it up. Hopefully this will be the first of many fics I put up (working on a big story, it's my baby..), depends on the reviews. Any tips and critique you can give, please do! I adore writing, and I adore these characters and the show, and I hope it shows in this.

Enjoy! (hopefully xD)

Look Back at Me

"No iris code, sir." Sergeant Harriman's voice was as clipped and controlled as ever, a calm look on his face that showed his steadfast work ethic. Colonel O'Neill and General Hammond stood behind him, both reflecting the same responsibility - though only a member of his team would see how Jack's hands twitched, clenching slightly. The General had said as the klaxons had gone off, signalling gate activation, that there were no teams scheduled for 10 hours; Jack O'Neill's concern was solely for his team, and the reason he stood in the control room, tensely waiting, was because a member of that team was off-world. The klaxons he heard now might be a signal of an abrupt mission ending - her mission.

Major Samantha Carter was on P9C-377 with SG-11, analysing the possibility of a second, inactive DHD on the planet, and to determine if it were in working order. It was a mission the whole of SG-1 was supposed to accompany 11 on, but Daniel was still in the infirmary recovering from SG-1's last mission's broken leg. Teal'c was off world, at another rebel Jaffa meeting (Jack had grumbled how they never went well as his silent friend had left) and O'Neill himself had been requested to stay on base by General Hammond, much to Jack's annoyance; a meeting with a manipulative senator was far from the Colonel's favourite things, but he Hammond had specifically requested his help in keeping Kinsey in check as he 'checked up' on the base. Hammond himself wasn't happy about sending Carter off-world without her team, but SG-11 had been on 377 for a week now, with no unfriendly results - either the Goa'uld had long since abandoned the rather barren planet, or they had been fought off years ago, for they hadn't encountered any indication of Goa'uld control, and the natives (with their 18th century level of technology), were friendly and willing to help the SGC team members in their search.

Jack pushed down his rising alarm, but he couldn't help wondering what was going on - the gate remained active, but nothing came through, not even a code. After another minute of the tense silence, the gate shut down. Harriman gave a shrug. Jack breathed a lungful of air that he hadn't known he was holding, and raised an eyebrow at Walter.

"Inactive on their end sir, since it shut off. We didn't even get any trace-" the sergeant was cut off as the alarms sounded once more, "Incoming wormhole!"

The technician had barely closed the iris when a code flashed on screen. "SG-1 iris code." Walter Harriman said quickly.

"That's Carter! Open it!" Jack gave the order before the General had a chance to speak, and Walter followed his order, knowing it was what the General would have said.

The iris folded away, and as the minutes ticked by, Hammond gave the order for security to be on alert - Carter had to be detained for a reason, Jack knew, and that could very well be an enemy-shaped reason.

After what felt like an age to the Colonel, a flash of BDU green appeared at the top of the ramp, and Jack sighed with relief again - but far too soon. In an instant, it became apparent to all that Carter was injured.

Not just injured, Jack thought, as his legs suddenly flew into action, throwing him into the corridor and skidding through the door the gate room - Sam Carter collapsed the moment she was fully through, and Jack rushed to stop her as she fell down the ramp.

"Medical team, now!" the Colonel yelled, his voice urgent. As he lowered the major to the flat ground off the ramp, he saw the full extent of her injuries.

Her blond hair was matted with dried blood in places, the rest soaked with fresh blood. More fresh blood was drying on her face, and seeping freely from a jagged gash on her neck. Jack swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry - it didn't seem too deep, but from the amount of blood, Jack assumed it had nicked a major artery. To his dismay, that wasn't the worse of her injuries.

"Oh God." Jack whispered, abruptly standing up - the medical had finally arrived, and swarmed over Sam, but he hadn't retreated for them. He had to move away, to put distance between himself and the horrible wound on his Major - something, perhaps a staff blast, had hit her in the midriff, just below one side of her ribs.

Not just hit. Gone straight through. Jack couldn't pull his eyes away from the jagged hole; the flesh was somewhat cauterized, but he could see the beads of blood dewing on the uneven edges - too much blood.

"She's lost too much blood!" Janet was yelling - Jack swallowed against the lump in his throat again as the doctor echoed his thoughts. He moved on suddenly stiff legs as the medical team managed to get Carter on a gurney, rushing her to the infirmary - or rather, straight to one of the emergency rooms. He moved quickly, rushing alongside, forcing his eyes to stay on the pale face of his second-in-command.

"C'mon, Carter." he whispered, begged, but it had only come out as a hoarse whisper. The lump in his throat became unbearable as they hooked her up to a heart monitor - Jack could tell by the beep that her heart was too slow, too weak.

"Where's my epi -1 milligram epi's in.."

"Ca.." Carter. Thought continued when voice failed.

He could have counted down the seconds, because he knew intimately when the heart monitor flat-lined. He couldn't breathe.

"I need a crash cart! Colonel, you have to move!" Janet Fraiser's commanding voice broke through his panic, and only then did he realise he was gripping Carter's lifeless hand. Lifeless, he thought with force as he dropped her hand - like fire, as he realised the faster he moved, the better her chance of revival. Jack didn't notice the blood on his fingers, nor on his shirt and palms from catching Carter in the gateroom.

"Clear!" the subsequent charge had Jack gritting his teeth - the electrical whine of the cart reminded him of a zat. He winced as he focused on Carter - her lips were pale violet, almost white, and her eyelids were half-closed. There was no movement beneath them - no bright blue orbs dancing at him, betraying the woman's interest at a 'doohickey' and her humour at his impatience with her technical jargon; she would always smile, whether it was amused or exasperated, Carter would always smile when he asked her to put something simply, or when he did something silly - looking into a telescope at day, or trying to figure how wormholes connected. She explained things to him, and no matter whether he got it, he at least knew she did, and could trust her to work these things out right; trusted her to save their asses multiple times.

"Clear!" the smashing of electrical charge into a frail, injured body.

A sudden blip in the monitor, a jump in Sam's clinically dead heart. And Jack's heart jumped too, soared, crashed and reached out to the still woman on the gurney.

It seemed to beat with every jump on the heart monitor's screen, and again Jack found himself inexplicably holding Sam's hand - the one on her uninjured side, holding it flat by her shoulder as he stood at her head. His eyes sought hers, and again his heart flipped as her eyelids flickered above the oxygen mask on her face - not opening, but seeming to hint at life within.

He kept out of the way of the medics as they swarmed over Carter - bandages and stitches and so many things Jack had to tune out to keep himself from grinding away his teeth. He kept his eyes on the major's face as they worked on her wound. Her missing pound of flesh, his head whispered darkly. What agreement had Carter ever agreed to, to get herself that punishment? Though his mind agreed ironically with itself - The Merchant of Venice was apt for Sam, he could readily imagine her making a promise she couldn't keep, just to aid someone else.

"Come on Carter." he whispered occasionally, never once letting go of the fingers that didn't even stir. He couldn't tell how long Janet and the others worked on Carter - only knew it was over an hour at least, by the audible ting of someone's wristwatch, beeping twice as they bent over the woman - the dead woman?

No. No, Jack reassured himself, her heart monitor was still beeping - occasionally it had become irregular and Janet had yelled a few phrases that were far too familiar, but now they were maybe even (he dared to hope) stronger.

Please, please let them be stronger.

Jack O'Neill was ignoring a cramp in his hand when Janet stepped away from Sam, looking to the Colonel for the first time. Jack lifted his head to meet her gaze, his eyes questioning her - he had no idea what expression he wore, though. His face felt strained, but he couldn't think straight about appearances, not right now.

"I think she's got a fifty-fifty chance, Colonel." she said calmly, moving toward him; placing a hand on his arm and nodding toward the door, Jack reluctantly let go of Carter's fingers, staying one more moment to hear just one more beep on the monitor - a monitor he had matched his own heartbeats to ever since it had been turned on, he felt.

Fifty-fifty. The CMO had not tried to sugar coat it or lie, and had given it to him straight.

"It could go either way, sir. We don't know what happened, but I'd say a staff blast," Janet had launched straight into the details the Colonel needed, and for that he was grateful, "judging by the cauterizing on the wound, but going on how much flesh was blown off, I'd say more likely from one of those force cannons, sir."

The colonel could only swallow and nod for her to continue - the thought of one of those things aiming at Carter, shooting at Carter, managing to hit Carter, tightened his throat beyond being capable of speech.

"It looks worse than it is. It missed all her major organs, and really just scraped away flesh - didn't even get near the ribs. She's lucky, sir. Personally, I think she'll pull through. Medically…" Janet trailed off.

"Medically?" the Colonel tried to repeat, but his voice was a hoarse whisper; he coughed in his dry throat and forced himself to breathe before repeating, "Medically, doc?"

"Medically... The next hour or so will be crucial - if she stays stable, she'll probably hold on. If not, then I don't see how…" Janet cut off again, and Jack saw her swallow painfully also - Janet was Sam's friend too, Jack remembered, a light suddenly shining in his brain, as if it had been long out of use. Best friend, he thought, knowing Janet was the only woman Sam spent time with, and the only other person besides her team-mates.

Jack didn't need her to finish the sentence. He nodded mutely, and Janet sighed wearily.

"Best if you stay in here, sir. I'll inform you if there's any change." and with that, Janet disappeared back through the door with one last pleading glance. Jack was left standing out in the corridor, in front of the CMO's empty office opposite. He allowed himself a deep exhale - he felt like he'd been breathing lightly since Carter had come back, as if afraid the force of his breath could injure her already frail body further.

Frail. It was a word he never ascribed to Carter; his Major was powerful, commanding, intelligent, persuasive, strong - never frail. But now, as she lay so pale he could far too easily imagine her a corpse, Jack felt the need to protect her.

Then Jack knew, in the depth of his soul and shrouds of his mind, Jack O'Neill knew; he was in love with Samantha Carter.

He didn't know when it happened, hadn't realised when the intimate feelings they shared had changed. Initially it had been attraction mixed with admiration, but it had grown, until that fateful moment during Zatarc testing, when the team was threatened by their own fear of admitting their emotions. Then he knew his feelings were too strong to brush off - he deeply cared for her, enough to sacrifice himself rather than leave her alone; the alien technology had made him realise, then, just how much she meant to him.

But they had put it aside, continued fighting and slipped easily back into the roles of commanding officer and second-in-command, and they didn't mention it again - sometimes, when he was on the edges of sleep, or very much alone in his house with his beer, he wondered if she had really left her feelings in that room and moved on. He had met the cop, Shanahan, after the tussle with Osiris, but since then Carter never mentioned him to Jack, not if she could avoid it. He couldn't help but hope that was a sign of some sort, that she hadn't really forgotten him, despite moving on.

He himself hadn't, he knew. He never brought it up, but in every mission, on every planet, he'd cared for her. Now he knew could say easily that he loved her - just like he'd needed the threat of Carter being harmed to admit his feelings before, the very real threat of Carter's death had him admitting easily that he loved her, and how much.

So he didn't know the exact moment his feelings had grown from admiration and attraction to care and to a deep, burning love -maybe there hadn't been a moment, maybe every tense second they spent in a team had led up to it- but he knew intimately, no matter what, that he loved her absolutely and with no bounds. And it wrenched his heart to know that he might never be able to show her that - never be able to look into those blue eyes, never make her laugh again with his exasperation at her techno babble, never share a look so intimate he could tell immediately what was running through her brilliant mind.

He couldn't.

"Oh God." he said, pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes. Every memory of her azure eyes flashed in his mind, blurring into one image. Carter.

"Jack?"

For a moment more, Jack held his position; he didn't want to talk to anyone, not even another injured team-mate. But he lowered his arms and slowly turned around to face Daniel.

The archaeologist was standing at the end of the corridor, still wearing the infirmary pajamas and a dressing gown, obviously having just hobbled from there. His left leg, from toe to hip, was covered in a cast - the cast was likewise covered, but in silly things Jack had written, earlier this day and yesterday; they were meant to cheer up Daniel as he was forced to lie in bed, waiting for the leg to heal. Jack felt like he had written them millennia ago.

"I heard from a nurse what happened." Daniel's voice was low, depressed.

"Mhm." was Jack's only reply. He couldn't speak about it, not yet. He breathed deeply again before trying once more.

"Fraiser says she's got a 50% chance of pulling through. Seems she took a hit from a force cannon." Later, Jack might be proud of Sam for that - if she pulled through. If she didn't… he couldn't bear to think that. Daniel sat down on one of the plastic chairs lining the wall, his face shocked.

"Oh God." Daniel said, his voice weak. He understood. Daniel understood. He couldn't say how, but that comforted Jack somewhat, and he took strength from his friend, sitting beside him.

"Yeah."

The dejection in Jack's simple reply made Daniel look up. Unbidden, a thought drifted into his mind - it's not only Sam's life riding on the next hour. If she doesn't pull through, I don't think he will either. Daniel mentally shoved it aside.

"How are you, Jack?" Daniel asked, so softly Jack almost didn't hear right, and he still had to look up to make sure Daniel had even said anything. Meeting his friend's questioning gaze, the colonel quickly sent his gaze skyward, leaning back on the creaky plastic chair to stair at the ceiling.

"Daniel. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Jack." Daniel's tone was wheedling, and for once, Jack felt himself almost wanting to pour out his thoughts. He had always known the archaeologist had a way with people - but Jack wasn't people, and he clamped down on it. But he didn't shut his friend out completely.

"What do you think, Daniel? How do you think I feel knowing Carter is in there, on the brink of death? Fifty-fifty chance, Daniel. Life or death," he paused, abruptly leaning forward and planting his head in his hands, and said something into them. To Daniel, it was only a mumble, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Um, what?" he said, somewhat unintelligently. Jack sighed audibly, and pressing his hands into his eyes again, freeing his mouth of obstruction, allowing him to speak with a dead tone of finality - the voice of a man grasping to hope, Daniel thought morosely.

"I said, what if I never get a chance to tell her."

With a start, Daniel realised what Jack meant. And to be honest, it took him by surprise. He was no Teal'c, and despite his way with people, he rarely looked so deep that close to home - he couldn't deny Sam and Jack had something, an affinity; Daniel had been to the alternate universe where they were together, so he wasn't unfamiliar with the thought. It just took him by surprise, and his admiration for the two impossibly seemed to grow in that second - to go through what they did everyday as a team, to be so close and yet forced to keep a distance, to spend so long without acting on feelings (at least on Jack's side)… Daniel huffed a breath filled with shock.

"Uh..." the archaeologist said again, before he managed to put a firmer note in his voice, "Jack. Sam is strong - from what I heard, she walked herself through the gate right?" seeing Jack's terse nod, he continued, "And before that, managing to dial the gate on her own, under heavy fire, with injuries -a force cannon, Christ- Sam is strong, Jack. She'll make it. And when she does, you'll tell her." Daniel could say no more than that, remembering hazily the injured cop who had been at the SGC the same time Sarah (freshly de-goa'uldified) had been; he couldn't say, with the same confidence in his tone, who Sam would pick - in fact, that was as uncertain as Sam surviving, though Daniel kept his voice firm as he reassured Jack.

"Daniel?" The voice was muffled by the hands-over-face pose the Colonel had adopted again - Daniel was shocked to realise it's tone was pleading."Yes?"

"Shut up."

Jack had stopped trying to measure time. Janet had said how crucial the next hour would be, but Jack felt like years had passed. Daniel had left once to get a coffee, but was now staring moodily into the dregs of the cup by Jack's side. Jack had stopped his friend from saying anything more about feelings, and about Sam. He couldn't bear the smattering of hope that Daniel's words had stirred in him, and he couldn't let it blossom - he was too close to losing her, too close to losing all hope.

Ice ages had formed and melted, in Jack's mind, by the time the door of the room swung open. Jack was on his feet, strained face seeking out the Doctor's before the CMO had even emerged. Seeing Daniel, she sent him a fatigued half-smile before meeting the colonel's gaze.

"She's stable," her words sent something crashing down inside the colonel, and he didn't even hear the next words for a few moments, until they'd filtered through his inner jubilation, "We've stitched up the cut on her throat, repaired the artery damage there, and given her some stitches in various head wounds and a few on her arms. Her side is more of a problem - she'll need reconstructive surgery to regain the missing flesh before she can be allowed back into the field, and months of physical therapy. Even then, that small section on her side won't have much in the way of responsive nerves, but it shouldn't hinder her return much further along the line. We're sedating her heavily - we need her to sleep for as long as possible, to do as much healing. I've already called Hammond and put in the request for the right doctors to be transferred here, or to arrange for Major Carter to be transferred there… Which is more likely, if she's going to get the right treatment."

"You mean we can't-" Janet gently cut off Daniel before he'd even finished his question.

"I know you'll want to see her before the transfer, and before I start raising her dosage - you have ten minutes, and I can't guarantee she'll stay awake for long, if she does wake. But…" She ended the sentence by holding the door out to them. Daniel briefly remarked at the back of his mind that he'd never seen the Colonel move so fast. By the time Daniel had reached the gurney on which a slightly less bloody, slightly less pale Sam Carter lay, O'Neill was already by her side.

Sam's arms lay by her side, hands loosely curled. Tentatively, Jack pressed two fingers into her palm, watching her face. Her eyelids twitched, and her lips parted somewhat, but there was no other response.

"Sam? Sam, can you hear me?" Daniel spoke softly whilst gripping her other hand, and apart from another twitch, there was no response. Jack slipped his fingers between hers fully, glad for the moment that regs could be forgotten in the emotion and emptiness of the room. He was looking down at her so gently…

"Carter. C'mon, Carter, look back at me."

Jack had always had a special way of addressing Sam. He rarely said her first name anymore, not since their first few years together - as their relationship got more complex, it was a necessity to push away the feelings and get back into the job. He didn't like to call her 'major', either - the last thing he wanted to do right now was be reminded of the jobs and ranks that kept them apart. He had been calling her Carter for so long, that it was almost a nickname, not just a surname. When he needed to, he could say it with urgency, worry, anger, but at other times, tenderness and a deep cheer. He said it now with such pleading affection that Sam, barely even conscious of it, responded.

As her eyes opened, Jack's heart skipped - it had been feeling erratic ever since she'd got back in a bloodied bundle, but now it jumped happily, freeing the constriction in Jack's throat as he looked into her azure orbs. He smiled - the gentle smile she'd come to know so well. She blinked hard - her eyelashes were crusted with blood, but she blinked anyway, ignoring the annoying clumps. Her hazy attention was captured by the man to her side.

"Sir?" she asked, her voice groggy and hoarse.

"Easy Captain. You had us all worried." his smile split into a full blown grin, and it was hard for Carter to miss the tenderness in his brown eyes.

"Sir, Jaffa.. SG-11.. I tried to call for back up, but then I was hit… had to get to the gate.." Sam trailed off, a swallow rough on her delicate throat.

"Carter. Sam. I said easy." Her groggy eyes had flared slightly at the use of her first name, "You certainly got to the gate. And by the way, taking a force cannon blast like that? Very impressive, Carter. Gotta get you a cake for that feat." he spoke softly, but all with the same affectionate expression.

"Sam, don't worry. SG-11 came back about an hour after you did - Hammond had sent back up, and they're all good, no outstanding wear or tear." Daniel injected soothingly, and Jack looked away to raise an eyebrow at him, "I was in the infirmary." Daniel shrugged, sidestepping the fact that he hadn't told Jack sooner because he didn't want Jack to think it might have been Sam's final act. Sam closed her eyes briefly.

"Good.." she mumbled, before looking again at Jack with half-lidded eyes, "Sir?"

"Get rest, Sam. I'll stay with you. Not letting you out of my sight again." the colonel covered her hand again with his free one, and Sam suddenly seemed to realise he was holding it. Daniel had let go of her other one, and decided now was a good time to find Janet outside. He silently slipped away, unnoticed.

Jack could see Sam struggling to keep her eyes open, wanting to know what had brought on the colonel's sudden disregard for distance, but he only squeezed her hand softly.

"I'll be here. Always; I'm not going anywhere." his voice was rough, raw with tender affection. Sam's lids finally fluttered closed.

"Good." the mumble was half-heard, half-felt by the recipient; Jack grinned.