Email: Status: Complete, but being posted in parts to go easy on our mailboxes Category: Angst, Whumping Pairings: None Spoilers: None Season: Early Rating: PG-13 Content Warnings: Violence Summary: Carter comes to Jack with a Request for Transfer. These are the events leading up to that, and the aftermath of their confrontation.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1, its characters and all related entities are property of Stargate SG-1 Productions (II) Inc., MGM Worldwide Television Productions Inc., Double Secret Productions, Gekko Film Corp and Showtime Networks Inc / The SciFi Channel. No copyright infringement is intended.
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He never thought he'd be hearing those three little words again. Certainly not from anyone in the SGC.
And especially not from Carter.
Well, at the beginning maybe he'd thought it could happen. Hoped for it, even.
But they'd worked together for how long now? He thought he knew her.
Apparently, he didn't know her nearly as well as he thought he did.
Those three little words hung in the air, about to change their lives forever. One look at the determined, angry face before him proved it was no joke.
He had never seen it coming
Request for Transfer.
oOo
Two weeks earlier…
Day 1: The beginning of the end
"Come."
His office door opened and a man entered, stopping when he saw that there were already two people in the room. "Colonel, sir, I, uh, I'll come back later."
"Sherman, isn't it?" The man in the doorway flushed with pleasure at being recognized, and nodded. "What's up?"
The man bit his lip. "I'd, uh, I'd like to speak with you privately, sir, at your convenience, sir."
"About what?"
The eyes widened, darting around the room. "I'd, uh, rather not say at this time, sir."
Jack looked at the nervous man fidgeting in his doorway, then glanced over at Teal'c sitting nearby. The big man rose.
"Uh, sir, I didn't mean to disturb you, sir. Er, sirs."
"It's ok, Sergeant. Teal'c and I can pick it up again later. You seem to have something on your mind."
"Thankyou, sir. Er, sirs," he said again as Teal'c passed him in the doorway. The Jaffa inclined his head gracefully in acknowledgement and closed the door as he left.
"So?" the Colonel prompted. The man squirmed, still standing by the door. "Want to sit down?"
"Yes, sir." He crossed over and sat by the desk, fidgeting and looking anywhere but at the Colonel.
After a few moments, Jack prompted him again. "This'll be a lot easier if you give me a hint, Sherman."
He flushed, finally making eye contact. "Yes, sir. It's just… I'm not sure. But I'm pretty sure… And I thought you should know…" He stopped, took a deep breath. "One of the guys I work with, sir. He, he came in this morning all scratched and bruised up."
"And?" Jack prompted again.
Sherman stared intently at his own hands as he twisted his fingers. "He said his girlfriend did it in bed, sir."
Jack grimaced faintly. Did he need to be hearing this?
Sherman looked directly at the Colonel. "I don't think she did, sir." The eyebrows before him raised curiously and Sherman flushed. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and swallowed nervously. "Well, I mean, I don't know that exactly, sir, but, my point is, sir, I think she was fighting for real, sir. It doesn't look like anything a person would do for fun."
The Colonel was scowling at the news. "Do you know the girl? If we find out for sure, we can bring him up on charges."
The man squirmed even more, wringing his hands and looking everywhere but at Jack. "That's why I'm here, sir. I can't ask her. But I thought you…"
"She works here?"
"Yes, sir. It's… It's Captain Carter, sir."
"What?"
Sherman jumped back at the vehemence in the Colonel's reaction. Standing now, unconsciously keeping the chair between himself and the angry Colonel, he swallowed nervously. "Sir, I, I, I don't know for sure, sir, really. It's just that, she, she, she's been seeing Hanson, so I thought it must be her. I saw her today, sir, hung out in the cafeteria for half an hour waiting to see if she'd come in, to see if she was ok."
The words were coming fast now that he was finally saying what he'd come to say. "She seems alright, sir, but she's wearing a turtleneck. It's awfully hot out for that. And she was walking slow. She might be sore from something else, sir, but when you put it all together, it just seems like…"
Another deep breath, steadying his resolve. "It seems like he hurt her, sir. And if he did, and if she's not stopping him, not saying anything, then she's in a bad situation, sir."
He looked directly at the Colonel now, straightening up and summarizing. "I think she needs help. Sir."
"If this is true, why wouldn't she say anything?" Jack didn't believe it, didn't want to believe it.
Sherman was looking steadily at him, more earnest than intimidated now. He sat back down, leaning over the desk toward Jack. "I don't really understand it myself, sir, but it happened to my cousin."
Jack listened as Sherman described his family situation. His cousin's husband beat her, but she wouldn't leave him. When they tried to intervene on her behalf, the violence against the wife escalated. Even the police were helpless, as she would not testify against him. In fact, she defended him, made excuses for his behavior. All classic symptoms of an abusive relationship. And Sherman was seeing some of the same warning signs in Carter.
"Please, sir," Sherman implored. "Check it out. See if she's ok. I hope to god she is. But if she's not, be really careful. Lock him up the first time you see him. Or else it'll be really bad for her."
The Colonel stared at him in silence for a moment. He was sure the man was wrong. A defenseless housewife, maybe. Or a very young, insecure woman. But no military officer would stand for that kind of treatment. He must be – what was Doc's word? – projecting. He was projecting his cousin's situation onto Carter. Still, he had been approached about a serious situation and was required to investigate. "Ok, I'll check it out, Sherman. Thanks for coming to me."
The man looked relieved. "Thanks for listening, sir. I hope I'm wrong." He rose to leave, stopping halfway out the door. "Oh, and sir?"
"Yes?" Jack asked warily.
"I had to have an excuse to see you, sir. So I… hit your car in the parking lot."
The Colonel stared at him in dismay.
"I'll pay for the damage, sir, of course, sir," he added hastily. "I just had to have an excuse to see you."
"Why? My door is always open to anyone."
"You're second in command of the whole base. People notice who you're talking to. By this afternoon, my CO will be asking me if I was going over his head about something. That won't be so bad, but if Hanson thinks I was here to talk about Captain Carter…" He didn't finish that thought. "It's better that I had something to talk to you-the-person about rather than you-the-Colonel. No one would expect me to go through channels about a fender-bender."
Jack sighed and nodded. "Ok, thanks."
"I hope I'm wrong, sir," he said as he left.
oOo
Jack waited a while, thinking things through, before he went to see Carter. If Sherman was right, he couldn't go rushing over there. Even if Sherman was only right about people watching him that closely. He had had no idea that anyone cared who he talked to or who was in his office.
It couldn't be true. Could it? If Jonas Hanson attacked Carter, why hadn't she reported it? Maybe she had already taught him a lesson and didn't want to take it any further? Not likely; assaulting a fellow officer was a serious offense, and Carter was never one to flout the regs. Maybe Hanson had told the truth? Maybe the pair of them just liked rough sex? He hadn't thought Carter was that type. He'd thought she would be … well, never mind what he'd thought about her. That wasn't the point. He found himself hoping that Carter had trounced Hanson badly enough that she decided to forgo reporting it. It was by far the top pick of his three choices. Or maybe she was the instigator?
He decided to do a little checking before visiting Carter.
Hanson had an iron-clad, or maybe he should say gauze-clad, alibi. Jack shook his head; he had to have a talk with Siler about that ridiculous overgrown wrench. Siler and Hanson had spent the entire weekend in the infirmary following a wrench-wreck on Friday. After reading the details, Jack could understand why Hanson had made up a cover story, although his specific choice was stupid and demeaning to Carter. If the jerk really cared about her, he would have thought of something else.
Jerk or not, he could not have touched Carter over the weekend. So what had happened to her? Maybe Sherman was wrong. Maybe nothing at all had happened. Or something innocent, like a roller-blading accident. That was probably it; he'd go check on her to be sure, but it would turn out to be just an awful misunderstanding.
oOo
"Morning." He noticed how her head snapped up in surprise; it looked beyond startled, more defensive. Then, with a bit of pleasure, he saw her relax and smile when she recognized him in the doorway. "Did I startle you?" He glanced around the lab, relieved to find that she was alone.
Jonas Hanson hadn't hurt her this weekend, but someone or something definitely had. He could see it now; the evidence was all over her. He would have seen it before if he had been paying attention. But they weren't prisoners being interrogated by some Goa'uld, you weren't supposed to have to watch your team for injuries on your own home base, for crying out loud!
"Maybe a little, sir. I was concentrating on the computer when you came in."
"Kinda hot for a sweater, isn't it?" He noticed the beads of sweat at her temples. Could see just the edge of a green-black bruise over the top of the high-neck shirt. "At least roll up your sleeves." She wasn't wearing her watch, either. The one Jacob had given her, the one she always wore.
"I'm fine, sir," she sat up straighter and he could see the stiffness in the motion. She tried to change the subject. "Did you need something?"
He sat down and looked her in the eye. "I need to know what happened to you this weekend."
She wasn't expecting that. "What do you mean?" Her eyes widened, their focus swinging rapidly around as if searching for the answer somewhere else in the room. If he had needed any further confirmation, that was it.
"You can't hide it from me, Carter. I know you too well." Well, Sherman might say otherwise, but he probably wouldn't. And he needed her to open up.
"I don't know what you mean, sir."
He sighed. "Nice lipstick, Captain. But it doesn't quite cover up the scabs from biting your lip."
She reflexively pulled her lips in.
"And I can see a bruise on your neck."
Another direct hit, her hand went right to the spot.
"And your wrist."
She looked down; both wrists were fully covered. She held them up, challenging his assertion.
"No watch. You always wear that watch. Roll up your sleeves and show me I'm wrong."
She dropped her head into her hands and his last faint hope of discovering another innocent accident evaporated.
"Carter, what happened?" He felt righteous anger building; he wanted to find the person who had left her in this state. Find him, and hurt him.
After a moment, she sighed, raised her head. "I'd rather not discuss it, if it's all the same to you, sir."
"It's not all the same to me, Carter. What happened?"
"It's… personal, sir."
"Carter," he said again, more gently. "Sam. You're hurt, and I want to know why. I need to know that you're ok."
"I'm fine, sir. Just some bruises and stuff. I don't want to talk about it."
"Is it because you started the fight?" She looked startled; that wasn't it. He had wanted that to be it. Maybe one more try. "You know I won't rat on you, Carter. Everyone slips up once in a while. If you beat the crap out of someone.. . "
"That's not it, sir. I didn't start anything." She saw him deflate a bit, then take that tiny nip at his lower lip that meant he was thinking something. Something he didn't like.
Second choice, then. He looked at her sideways, almost wincing. "You don't…. like….that sort of thing…?" he asked hesitantly. He didn't want it to be true, but it was still better than what was behind door number three.
"Of course not!"
Crap. Door number three it was. But it didn't make sense. She was a strong, confident woman. Why would she let someone hurt her? "If you didn't start it, and you didn't want it, then why didn't you report it?"
She didn't answer.
"What does he have on you?" That had to be it. He had threatened her with something bad enough to convince her not to report him.
"Nothing. It's not like that at all. It's just…"
He leaned closer, eager to hear the answer to the riddle.
She stopped mid-sentence. "I don't want to talk about it, sir."
"Carter," he said gently. "Let me help."
"I don't want you to help, sir."
"Carter…"
"I appreciate your concern, sir. But I'm fine. I can handle this."
"I can send you to the infirmary and let Fraser see how well you're handling it," he threatened.
"All she'll find is some bruises. Nothing to keep me from working," she said defiantly.
"Carter…"
"I don't want to talk about it!" she repeated more forcefully. "And you can't make me tell you, Colonel," she emphasized the word a bit, hating to do this but determined not to talk.
"If personal issues affect a subordinate's performance, then a superior officer can demand answers, Captain." He could play the military game as well as she. Better, this time around, as he had the stronger tactical position.
"If there is evidence that the personal issues have or are likely to impact the subordinate's performance. You have no such evidence," she countered.
She had him there. He stood up. "You are confined to base, Captain, until further notice." He couldn't beat the information out of her, but he would damn well do his best to keep anyone else from beating her at all.
"What? You can't do that!"
"I just did. Unless you want to tell me what's going on?"
"You have no reason. I'll go to the General."
"Suit yourself. If you'd rather explain it to him, that's fine with me."
She sat back and crossed her arms defiantly.
He smiled tightly at her. "I hear the cafeteria special tonight is meat loaf. Enjoy."
She hated their meatloaf. And he knew it.
oOo
Jack walked calmly back to his office and closed the door. Hard enough for the hinges to rattle.
Carter hadn't had an accident. The behavior didn't fit, even if it were as embarrassing as Jonas' own misadventure. The injuries didn't fit either. You didn't fall down and hit your neck and wrists. And you didn't go so far to cover up accidental injuries.
Someone had hurt her.
And she let them.
God, why? Why would she ever do that? Who, on Earth or any other planet, would she protect this way?
oOo
NEXT: Jack pressures Carter to explain