Almost Kansas

Part Two

Jacob was dragging an old wheeled cart with the wood he'd collected in it, stopping just in front of their house and straightening curiously when he heard loud banging and crashing noises in the next house over. Moving toward the sounds, Jacob was surprised and confused to find Jack inside, clearing out broken boards and furniture. He stood in the doorway, waving an arm to dispel some of the clouds of dust. "Jack, what the hell are you doing?"

Not stopping what he was doing, Jack glanced over at the Tok'ra, moving to the door while dragging what looked to be an old rug, piled high with debris. "I'm clearin' this place out so it's livable," he muttered, pulling the junk outside when Jacob moved out of the way. It had gotten hot outside, and Jack's face and hair were dripping with sweat, his shirt soaked.

"Why? Did something happen to the house? Where's Sam? Is she okay?" Jacob spit the questions out with concern, nearly running into their little house to make sure his daughter was alright.

Jack straightened for a moment and heaved a sigh. "She's fine. I'm movin' out."

"What?" Jacob wasn't sure he'd heard the younger man right. He eyed Jack questioningly. "Did you say you're moving out?"

"Yeah." After dumping the debris into a growing pile on the side of the shack, Jack headed back inside for more. He quickly thought up an excuse before Jacob had the chance to ask him why. "It's too damn cramped in there and Carter needs room to do her work. Besides, sleeping on the floor is killing my back."

Like hard labor isn't, Jacob thought dubiously. He knew there was something else going on here. Noticing the younger man's mood was rather sour today, he let it go. "Want some help?"

Jack didn't look back. "No, I got it."

Brows still furrowed in thought, Jacob turned and went back to what he was doing, still thinking about the Colonel's behavior. He took the wood inside to get a fire going so dinner could be made.

Sam was putting away her blueprints and tidying up the table she'd used as her workbench when he walked in. Jacob noticed there was something off about her. She seemed a little tense, her face tight. Those obvious signs told him that his daughter was angry about something. What had happened between her and O'Neill? he wondered. "Sam, did you know that Jack's-"

"I thought it was a good idea," she cut him off sharply. When she caught the incredulous look on her father's face, Sam quickly schooled her features and added, "This place is too small for the three of us. Besides, he'll be better off sleeping in a bed instead of the hard floor. You know he's got a bad back. He complains about it every morning."

Jacob rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Well, despite having Selmak, I'd rather be on a bed too." He glanced toward the door. "However, instead of moving out, I think I'll just get my hands on what passes for a mattress from one of the other houses and bring it in here." He decided not to say anything more on the subject and went back outside to get wood to start the fire.

Sam was putting water in one of the cooking kettles after her father got the fire going. When it had boiled enough to kill any germs (they weren't taking any chances) she mixed in some corn meal and set it back over the heat. Jack hadn't come back to the house, but she hadn't expected him to. She was still angry and couldn't bear looking at him right now anyway. Why couldn't he just tell her that he loved her back and that the rules didn't matter? Why couldn't he suggest they talk things out with the General when they got home?

"Sam, I'm heading out to find that bed now before it gets dark." He made towards the door when Sam called out a warning.

"Dad, be careful. Some of these buildings look like they're ready to collapse."

"I'll keep an eye out, don't worry," Jacob promised, going outside and waving.

-

Jack spent the night hungry and cold in his lonely little house. Almost Kansas got pretty damn chilly at night. After clearing everything out that was either broken or of no use to him, he'd been exhausted. He collapsed on the bed after beating the thin feather mattress outside to clear the dust, and thought he'd be asleep in no time. That wasn't the case. He hadn't bothered to cook anything or start a fire, and all he could think about was Sam as he tossed and turned in bed.

He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he did. He was only trying to protect her. That was part of the problem. She made him know she didn't need his protection and was quite capable of making her own decisions when it came to her love life. Jack was still finding it hard to believe that she loved him. He wondered what happened with that cop guy that she'd seemed so besotted with a couple of weeks ago.

After lying awake all night, Jack suddenly got an idea to keep himself busy when the sun came up. There were unused fields surrounding them, and nearly everything they'd need to start farming the lands again. Getting out of bed and stretching, Jack left his shack in search of the things he would need to start planting some corn in a portion of the barren field. Doing something productive and physically taxing would help him get his mind off of Sam. At least, that's what he hoped.

There was an old red barn at the end of the village, and he found a few useful tools there. There was an old-fashioned plow, but no horse, donkey, or ox to use it with, so he gave up on that idea. Still determined to start his farming, he grabbed a hoe and began marking out a decent-sized patch of the barren cornfield to start his work. Finding a few more tools, Jack began digging away at the soil, searching for the rich earth beneath the damage.

-

Sam stood at a distance, pretending she wasn't watching Jack as intently as she was. She wasn't entirely sure what he was doing or why. Maybe to keep himself busy? Maybe to get out his frustrations? Either way, she couldn't stop watching him as she walked through the village, continuing her search for anything useful. She hated this; feeling helpless and so out of control. It wasn't fair. They had to wait around to be rescued, and there was nothing she - or any of them - could do to speed up the process. She hated worrying about what had really become of Daniel and Teal'c, she hated that she was so angry at Jack for being emotionally handicapped and hiding behind rules, and she hated that her father was stuck in the middle of it all. Sam knew it wasn't fair to him, and Selmak for that matter. She'd speak to her dad, and her dad would speak to Jack, but she and Jack weren't speaking. It couldn't be easy for her father.

For the next four days Sam kept herself busy gathering food and supplies while her father worked to fix up their shack a little, patching things up where he could to make it a little more livable. She still hadn't spoken to Jack, and although he was only in the next house over, she hardly saw him. Not up close anyway. From afar she'd watch sometimes as he labored in that damn field, planting whatever it was he'd been planting. The days grew hot and long, and occasionally she'd feel the urge to go out there and bring Jack some water, or try and get him to rest a little before he got heat exhaustion, but she never did. Her stubbornness and anger held her back, though she admittedly felt some relief when her dad would go out there, offer to help (to which Jack always declined), and bring him a jug of water and some food.

-

Jacob sat himself on a hay bail in the field with Jack while they shared a meal and drank some water. The Tok'ra took in Jack's haggard appearance and always-somber expression for one last time before the silence was finally too much. "Jack, I'm only gonna ask this once and I expect you to damn well give me a straight answer." That caught the younger man's attention somewhat. His chin tilted upward and he looked Jacob in the eyes. "What the hell happened between you and my daughter."

Jack frowned and said lowly, "Nothing happened."

Not buying it, Jacob shook his head and then said, "Let me rephrase that. What did you do to piss her off?"

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Jack took a bite of the cornbread that Sam had made and frowned again. Just knowing that she had made it left him with an odd feeling he didn't recognize. For a moment he forgot all about Jacob's question until he looked up to see the older man staring hard at him. He set the cornbread aside and took a swig of water from the mason jar at his feet. "I dunno," he lied.

"Bullshit," the Tok'ra growled. "The truth Jack."

Heaving a sigh, Jack exploded. "I didn't do or say anything!" He sprung up from the hay bail he'd been sitting on and began pacing back and forth before finally saying, "And I suppose that's the problem." He thrust a hand through his hair in frustration.

Jacob looked at Jack, confused. Deep down he had a feeling he knew the answer, but a part of him didn't want to think about it. Expression softening as Selmak inwardly soothed and calmed him, the older man stood and looked at Jack sympathetically. "Do you feel the same way about her that she does for you?"

Jack froze and took a step back, surprised at Jacob's bluntness and worried that the older man might hit him. He supposed he would deserve it, but considering the Tok'ra's extra strength thanks to his symbiote, Jack really didn't want to deal with a broken jaw or cracked orbital bone. Fisting his hands at his sides, he clenched his jaw and hesitantly nodded. Then, vehemently, he said, "But we can't-"

"Take a look around, Jack," Jacob interrupted. "Regulations aren't in affect. There's no one around to report you. Tell her."

Resuming his pacing once he realized the other man wasn't going to hit him, Jack bit out in frustration, "I can't!" Then in a lower tone he said, "We're gonna get home."

"So what?" Jacob challenged. He'd been in the military all of his adult life. He knew the rules and regulations were their only obstacle. "There are ways. You two deserve to be happy." Sighing with his own frustration, in a gentler voice Jacob told him, "Don't let rules stand in your way."

Jack picked up his hoe and started tearing into the soil again. "Go away Jake," he growled, angrily ripping up dirt.

Shaking his head, Jacob picked up the big water jug and the food Jack hadn't eaten. "Talk to her, will you?," he tried one last time. "She's miserable and she hates you right now."

I know. I hate me right now too, Jack thought, ignoring Jacob and continuing his work without a word. He watched as the other man's shadow disappeared on the dirt and sighed, angry at himself. Jack really didn't know why he wouldn't let the regulations go. He wanted to - God he wanted to - but for some reason, he just couldn't put them in the back of his mind. It was who he was; who he'd been most of his life. Was he scared of being happy again? Was that what was really holding him back? Were the rules just an excuse?

-

The harsh midday sun beat against his back, causing sweat to pour off his body and soak into his clothes. Jack longed to take his shirt off as he worked, but knew he'd only get a very bad sun burn for his efforts. Having worked practically non-stop for the past three days, Jack had six rows finished, the corn already planted. He was working on the seventh row now, tearing up the dirt when the handle of his hoe snapped in half on his downward strike.

"Dammit," Jack cursed, heaving a sigh and throwing his two broken pieces into the ground. Swiping an arm across his sweaty forehead, he grabbed the water Jacob had left him on the hay bail and took a long swig before stomping off the field.

Realizing he hadn't checked any of the shabby houses in the village for tools, Jack decided to look thoroughly. He'd already scoured the old barn when he'd first began his farming and knew there were no tools left, so he didn't even bother scoping it out again. Angry that he'd broken his most-used tool, Jack picked a small house that was previously unsearched and pushed the collapsed door out of his way as he stepped inside.

-

Holed up inside the small house again, Sam kept herself busy rationing and preparing food while her father was out checking the snare traps they'd set in the nearby woods. They'd already found a good stash of rice and cornmeal, but they desperately needed a good source of protein to keep their energy levels up. Especially Jack, Sam thought ruefully, knowing how much time he spent working out in the field all day. Despite her anger and stubbornness to resolve anything until he came to talk to her, Sam still cared a great deal about Jack. She made sure her father always brought him something to eat, because she was certain he hadn't bothered making anything himself. Sam seriously doubted he had the time with all the hours he spent in that damn corn field.

Every day she worried about how much energy he was expending with little to replenish it. She still peeked outside every once in a while to watch him from a distance, and feared that she might discover him lying face first in the dirt one day. Occasionally she'd catch sight of him dragging himself back to his house at the end of the day, and would imagine him trudging inside to collapse on the bed, exhausted. Some nights she had to force herself not to go next door and demand that he come back to the shack she now only shared with her father.

Getting up from the table where she'd been rationing some rice, Sam went to the fire and stirred up their evening meal. She had just replaced the cover on the pot when she was startled by the sound of her father's shouting outside. Unsure if his shouting was a cheer of good news or a throe of agony, Sam quickly rushed out the door. "Dad! What's going on?!"

Immediately worried at the panicked look in her father's eyes, Sam's greatest fear popped into her head; her dad had found evidence of Daniel and Teal'c's demise. Her frame went rigid and her eyes began to water.

"Sam! One of the houses collapsed!" Jacob spluttered somewhat breathlessly, grasping his daughter's arm and propelling them in the direction he'd just come from. "Jack was inside. Come on, I need your help!"

Sam said nothing, just went along as though in a trance. In her mind she was screaming, "Oh God!"

The dust hadn't even settled yet when she arrived on the scene. It was the building closest to the Colonel's corn field. The roof and one of the walls had completely caved in. There was just a small gap in the doorway that lead inside the shambles. She couldn't hear any hollering inside; no "Get me outta here Jake!" or "Hurry it up!", and that scared Sam more than anything.

She was shaking as she carefully followed her father inside, slowly feeling Major Carter crawling to the forefront of her brain to take charge. Finding her voice as the moved broken boards and pieces of the roof out of the way, she asked, "Do you know where he was before it came down?"

"I don't know," Jacob admitted worriedly, carefully stepping over debris. "I just saw him go in, and then heard the cracking wood when the house collapsed minutes later."

Continuing to carefully move broken boards, shingles, and other debris to clear some sort of path, Sam was surprised by movement near her left foot. She called for silence from her father and heard a low groan before the debris piled on the floor moved of its own accord. "Colonel? Can you hear me?" She hurriedly pulled more junk aside and gasped when she revealed a dirty, somewhat-bloodied hand. "Dad! Over here!"

They had Jack pulled out of the wreckage in just over thirty minutes. The going was slow, because Jacob made his daughter aware of one single beam that was buckling precariously under the weight of what was left of the house. O'Neill was semi-conscious once they removed the debris covering him, and even managed to stumble outside with Sam and Jacob's help before dropping painfully to his knees in the dirt.

Despite his efforts to get himself up, Jack was barely conscious. His clothes were torn, bloodied, and filthy, and he was bleeding from at least a dozen cuts and lacerations.

"Let's get him inside so we can take a look at him," Jacob said, not bothering to ask the younger man how he was. "Hang in there Jack," he encouraged lowly.

Jack hissed in pain and nearly blacked out when Sam slung his right arm over her shoulder and squeezed his waist to help him keep upright, but he managed to get his feet to move a little. He hurt all over and his head felt a little fuzzy, his hearing muffled like he had his fingers in his ears.

Jacob said nothing as Sam guided Jack toward their house instead of his own. He smiled tightly to himself before helping his daughter take Jack into the only bedroom and lay him on her bed. The man was unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow, and the Colonel's boots and socks were then removed gingerly. Jacob hurried to retrieve a bowl of water and a cloth, then Sam took the items from him and began to gently clean O'Neill's face, neck, hands, and arms; every bit of him that was exposed and bloody.

Sam was relieved that the bruises and cuts where she'd cleaned were mostly superficial. Luckily, it didn't appear that any of his limbs were broken. The worst of his injuries so far was a bloody gash over his left eye, just under the eyebrow. It wasn't that deep, but it just wouldn't stop bleeding. Once she'd taken care of that as best as she could, her father helped her remove the Colonel's shirt. Sam didn't fight the gasp that escaped her lips when she saw the spectacular bruise already evident on his abdomen. That worried her. She quickly cleaned the surprisingly few cuts on his chest, then began the unenviable task of checking for broken ribs and internal injuries.

"His right collarbone's broken," Jacob pointed out, reaching to lightly brush his fingertips against the deformation over O'Neill's chest.

Grimacing with a nod, Sam pressed her fingers firmly but gently over the Colonel's chest and along his ribcage, checking for weaknesses. Luckily finding nothing terribly wrong, Sam hesitated, fearing what she may find when she was looking for internal injuries.

Jacob caught his daughter's uneasiness and intervened. "I'll do it," he insisted gently, staring at the already-livid bruise on O'Neill's pale flesh.

Sam nodded slowly, worry creasing her brow as she watched her dad palpitate her CO's abdomen, first on the left side, getting no response, then moving to the right. Her eyes widened as the Colonel jerked spasmodically and moaned. Her anxious eyes locked onto those of her father's questioningly.

"I don't know," Jacob admitted to her heedfully. "There could be a laceration or just bruising on the inside." He heaved a sigh, removing his hands from O'Neill's abdomen. "His belly's not rigid, so that's a good sign." He watched Sam pull her bottom lip between her teeth, knowing that it could be because he hadn't been bleeding long yet.

Jack twisted on the bed slightly, his head shifting from side to side with his discomfort.

"I wish we could give him something for the pain," Sam whispered dismally, running a shaking hand through her hair.

"I know," Jacob sympathized. "Me too."

Wringing out the wet cloth she'd used to clean Jack's wounds, Sam folded it carefully and laid it over his sweaty forehead.

"We'll keep an eye on him and let him rest," Jacob suggested softly in the wake of his daughter's silence.

Sam nodded slowly, perching herself on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving her wounded CO. She was angry at him for going into that stupid house when it was obviously falling apart, but she also felt a wash of guilt, feeling like he wouldn't have needed to go in there if they weren't fighting. Or at least, he wouldn't have had to go in alone. Her eyes clenched briefly as she fought tears. She heard her father leave the room and move to the fireplace where the abandoned food was overcooking.

Jacob scraped the top, unburned layer of cornmeal and rice into two tin plates and brought them into the bedroom with a cup of water for Jack. He handed Sam both her own plate and Jack's water.

Immediately setting her food down on the battered wooden table beside the bed, Sam lightly threaded her fingers through the Colonel's gritty, sweaty hair. She left his cup of water on the table after a moment, deciding not to wake him, and sat back, allowing her injured Colonel the rest he needed.

After eating at the table in the other room alone, Jacob went into the small bedroom to find that his daughter hadn't touched her meal. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly when she looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked deeply troubled. Jacob knew it had to do with the reason she and Jack hadn't been speaking to one another. "Sam, why don't you go get some air. I'll look after him a while."

Clenching her teeth unsurely for a second, Sam took one more long look at Jack and nodded, breathing deeply and sighing as she stood. She left the small house with a lantern and stepped out into the darkness to walk the length of the village and clear her head.

-

Jack woke while Sam was gone. He was breathing harshly and suddenly clutched at his right side, blinking blearily at the face hovering over him. "Ja...Jake?" he groaned, rolling to his left, face twisted in pain and beads of sweat running down his forehead.

"Yeah. Right here." Jacob nodded quickly. He grimaced at the sight of the obvious agony on the younger man's face. "You're pretty banged up Jack," he whispered sympathetically. "I'm sorry we can't give you anything for the pain. There's nothing here." He frowned worriedly when Jack grit his teeth, and with supreme effort the younger man tried to get himself upright.

"Hey, hey, lie still," the Tok'ra warned, standing hurriedly. "Your right collarbone's broken and you might have internal injuries."

The wounded man gasped, still holding his side and grimacing as he continued trying to get up, his gaze sweeping the room searchingly. "Gotta take..a...leak..Doc."

Jacob knew Jack was searching for Sam, hoping she would be there for him, to know that she cared. As for calling him 'Doc," he hoped the reference was just the Colonel being facetious and not hallucinating. "Alright, just hang on a minute," he tried, holding out his hands in a gesture for the other man to keep still. "Don't get up, I'll bring you something to...use." Hurrying out of the room once he was fairly convinced the Colonel would stay still, Jacob searched the main room, finally grabbing one of the empty mason jars they normally used for water, and quickly taking it back to Jack. "Here."

Though he was weak and in a great amount of pain, Jack rose an eyebrow, holding the jar in his left hand. "You expect..me to..?"

"Just do it," Jacob said sternly. "I'll step out." Turning, he went outside the door and leaned against the wall to wait. He was suddenly alarmed at the tortured groans of agony from inside the room, quickly followed by Jack's raspy, breathless voice.

"Ah... Jake?"

Quickly going back inside the room, Jacob was alarmed when he saw Jack holding out the jar containing his bodily fluids. The younger man's urine was tinged red.

"That's...not good...is it?" Jack asked breathlessly when Jacob took the jar from him and worriedly set it down on the floor, shaking his head. O'Neill's face was deeply creased with pain.

"No," Jacob's suddenly expressionless face met Jack's, "It isn't."

-

Returning to the small house she'd been calling home for over a week now, Sam put her lantern out and set it down on her work table quietly. The inside of the house was dimly lit by the glow of the fire and some candles scattered around, and she looked up sharply when her father stepped out of the bedroom where Jack lay with a grave expression on his face. She felt her eyes glass over with worry when he walked toward her calmly and took her hands. There was a lump in her throat, her chest tight, and she couldn't breathe. "Dad?" Her voice was shaky, barely audible.

Jacob shook his head, slowly, wearily. "I don't know how bad it is, but it's not good."

Sam's lower lip quivered and she squeezed the rough fingers holding hers. "What? What is it?"

"There was blood in Jack's urine Sam." He watched his daughter's eyes glass over and sighed, lowering his head briefly while Selmak inwardly gave him encouragement. "I checked his abdomen again. It's not rigid, so that's still a good sign." Jacob frowned. "He's in a lot of pain though. I'm pretty sure it's the right kidney that's causing all the trouble."

Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Sam said, "I'd better take a look at him. Is he conscious?"

Jacob's mouth formed a grim line. "He was a minute ago. He's been drifting, but he's having a hard time resting and getting comfortable."

Nodding with understanding, Sam bravely opened the door and stepped inside the bedroom, her father following close behind. Her stomach was in knots as she approached her Colonel's bed and he blinked at her with pain-glazed eyes. She forced a smile and willed her eyes not to water. "Hi Colonel."

Breathing harshly with pain, his brows furrowed and he winced at the reminder of the gash under his left eyebrow. "Still..mad...at me...Carter?" he whispered.

Smiling tightly, she nodded and said, "Yes sir." Reaching down to gently thread her fingers through his hair, Sam added gently, "But we're not going to worry about that right now. I need to have a look at you." She gingerly pulled the blanket over him down to his waist. "Could you roll onto your left side for me, Colonel?"

He nodded, seemingly satisfied that she wasn't too angry with him at the moment. Turning onto his side was painful and he gasped sharply while he managed the task.

"Does your back hurt at all sir?"

"Yeah," he breathed, hissing when Carter's fingers lightly brushed against the bruise on his abdomen.

Sam grimaced. "Where, sir? On your lower right side?"

Jack's harsh breathing continued as he managed to answer her. "Uh-huh."

Sharing a look with her father, she nodded to herself and soothingly placed her hand on the Colonel's right shoulder. The bruising on his abdomen wrapped slightly around his right side, and though it didn't quite reach his back, Sam was certain her father had been correct. Jack's troubles certainly were with his kidney. She only hoped that it wasn't life-threatening. Not knowing when or if a rescue was coming, with no way to get home and no medical supplies, Sam feared for her Colonel's life. If this was very bad, there was nothing they could do for him.

"Alright sir," she said softly, "You can lie on your back again if you want to."

If it was up to him, Jack would rather not move at all. Not even to breathe. Everything he did caused jagged knives to dig deeper into his side and back.

Jacob handed Sam the cup of tepid water on the table beside the bed. "We'll need to monitor his kidney function," he said seriously, voice low.

Sam sucked in a breath and nodded, putting her hand behind Jack's head and helping him to drink. She grimaced as he coughed, and some of the liquid dribbled down his chin. "Easy sir. Try to drink a little more, okay?"

Jack groaned and made an effort to swallow more of the water while Jacob placed a cool cloth on his forehead. Sharp pains stabbed into his side and he just wanted to curl up in a ball and wish away the agony.

Tears pricked at Sam's eyes seeing how much pain the Colonel was in, and she turned away to search for a scrap of cloth to make a sling for his right arm. Hopefully that would help ease some of the discomfort from Jack's broken collarbone.

Jacob gave his daughter a curious look when she handed him the makeshift sling with eyes that pleaded with him to fix it on the Colonel for her. He nodded, slowly, and went to Jack, whose eyes had closed again.

Sam went outside, dragging a stool with her and sitting down just in front of the small house. She bent forward and put her face in her hands, shaking her head. She couldn't bear to think that the man she loved could be dying and there was nothing she could do to help. She wasn't even able to ease his pain.

-

Jack returned to consciousness briefly, his eyes fixing hazily on the blonde-haired figure at his bedside, absently stroking his hair. She didn't seem to notice that his eyes were open and he was staring at her. He heaved a sound between a sigh and a moan that seemed to catch her attention. She abruptly stopped moving her hand through his hair and jerked back, her eyes quickly fixing on his.

"Colonel," she gasped with surprise.

He managed a weak smile and hoarsely whispered, "Hey Carter." The pain wasn't so bad for the moment. It came at him in waves, sharp and intense before dulling down to an ache that wasn't nearly as bad.

It was pointless to ask how he was feeling. She reached for the water nearby and helped him drink a little. To monitor his kidney function, they had to save his urine in the mason jars. They kept two at a time to compare, seeing if the amount of blood mixed in was getting any worse or if it was getting better. It had only been about five hours now, and so far there wasn't really any change.

He wasn't extremely lucid, Sam could tell. He had a fever and was delirious from pain. Sam didn't know if she could stand sitting by him if he was more alert. It would be too awkward. She'd confessed her love to him and her desire to do something about it, and he'd just thrown the regulations in her face. To Sam that was a sign that he didn't want their relationship as much as she did. Not wanting to be angry with him right now when he needed her comfort and care, she shook out of her thoughts and tried desperately to focus solely on the Colonel's health.

Her father was outside, skinning a rabbit that had been caught in one of the snare traps, and she was alone to look after the Colonel. She couldn't leave him alone even if she wanted to.

-