AN: Now that my year's getting back underway, I'm planning to post a chapter every week! Reviews will certainly help keep me on track though ;) Please do let me know what you think and where you'd like to see this go!

Slowly, apprehensively, Carter headed down the corridors and elevators towards Jack's quarters, stopping by the mess room to grab them both some cake. She couldn't help thinking that Fraiser was right: this definitely wasn't a good idea. Taking a deep breath, she stopped outside Jack's door, and knocked.

"Yeah?" she heard him bark.

"It's me, sir."

"Come in, Carter."

Once inside, her heart sank as she saw him sitting on his bed, head in his hands. She closed the door and walked slowly over to a chair, pulling it out to sit opposite him.

"Sir? Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"No, Carter," Jack sighed.

"You never were, were you? That was an act, back there." He nodded.

"I just needed to get out. I needed to be alone."

"Oh… I can go if you want, sir." He waved away her offer.

"No, Carter, you're different. Besides, Fraiser's probably right. I should talk about this." He raised his eyes to meet hers, then noticed the cake on the table and reached for it. She grinned slightly as she passed it to him and took the other bowl for herself. Settling back in her chair, she began to eat absentmindedly as she prepared herself for what he had to say. She had to wait, however, as he gratefully wolfed down his cake – delaying tactics, they both knew. After a few minutes, when he had finished, he wiped his mouth and tentatively looked up at her. "Where should I start?"

An hour later, Jack finally stopped speaking and hung his head. Carter could only stare at him in shock, her heart breaking as he described what Ba'al had done to him. Her cake lay unfinished on the table. It was several moments before she was able to speak, and when she could, she had no idea what to say. He looked up at her expectantly.

"Well?"

Carter blinked several times before answering.

"I… I'm sorry sir, I just—that's a lot to take in."

"You're telling me." Although Jack sounded like his usual self, his face was grave. He was still looking expectantly at her, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You saw Daniel?"

"Daniel? I tell you how I was tortured for weeks, and all you can think about is Daniel?"

"We've got to start somewhere, sir." Jack scowled, making Carter smile.

"Fine. I… Daniel. Yes, I saw him. Well, no. Ye—I don't know! He said he was real, but… I'm still pretty damn sure I was hallucinating. Those sarcophaguses—"

"Sarcophagi," Carter corrected automatically.

"—sarcophaguses really screw with your head." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "But after a week or so, when he first appeared, I thought that was it. I'd lost it. And then the girl too… I almost gave up, then and there. I thought that, even if I did ever make it home, I'd be crazy." He sighed. "I wanted to end it. But that's the thing about those damn Goa'uld, they just don't. Let. You. Die." Each word was punctuated by Jack slamming his fist down on his knee. Carter jumped up instantly, sitting down beside him and putting his hand on the bed between them almost forcefully.

"Careful, sir. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Oh please, stop overreacting, Carter. I'm not gonna do anything stupid." Carter looked sceptical, but unwillingly released his hand from where she had it pinned. She was unconvinced, but knew she had to trust him. Jack took a deep breath to calm himself down, and continued quietly. "Daniel kept coming back. He told me that I had to keep going, that I would get out of there. In the end, I decided that I didn't actually give a damn if he was real or not. I knew that I had to make it, I had to get back to the SGC… to you." His voice was so soft by now that she wasn't even sure if she'd heard it or not. Before she could ask, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "I still don't know what was real and what wasn't. Who knows what Daniel can do now that he's all white and floaty?"

Carter considered her position for a moment. As much as she wanted to be his friend, right now she really needed to be his psychiatrist. His tone of voice told her that the matter was closed; but she knew that she couldn't let it rest. There was more that they needed to discuss.

"Sir, if Daniel wasn't real, why do you think you saw him?"

"Geez, Carter, I dunno. I was literally tortured and starved to death. I was a little distracted."

"No, but," Carter continued, doggedly pressing on, "do you think it was because you miss him? None of us have really had the opportunity to mourn him properly. He was your best friend, it's natural that your subconscious would turn to him when you're in trouble." Jack looked at her in surprise.

"Well, I mean, sure I miss the guy, but if I needed one person there to pep-talk me through it then God knows it wouldn't have been Daniel."

"Then who would it have been, sir?" There was a moment when they made eye contact, before he had the strength to turn away, and Carter saw in his eyes the answer to her question.

"I guess it was good to have Daniel," he mumbled, dropping his gaze. He sat there, hunched over, staring at his knees as though they could tell him the secrets of the universe. Carter, wisely deciding to not pursue the subject further, took the opportunity to more closely inspect his quarters. While they quite frequently visited each other's offices, their on-base living spaces were a little more personal. Carter had been to Daniel's, and especially Teal'c's, on many occasions, but had never seen inside her Commanding Officer's.

It was the same as every other living quarter on the base, but, unlike most people, Jack had refrained from making it feel homely. There was a photo of Charlie next to the bed; other than that, the grey walls stood bare. On the small table were scattered a number of small and fairly useless items. A couple of pens, a notepad with some inappropriate doodles on it, loose pages of mission reports, a glass of water… and, now that she saw it, a piece of paper folded in half. Only the corner was poking out from under the notepad, but it looked to Carter like the front side of a photo. Without thinking, she stood up and took a step towards the table.

"What's this, sir?" Trying to change the subject.

"Ah!" Jack exclaimed in alarm, leaping suddenly to his feet and swatting her hand away as she reached for it. She turned to him with brow-furrowed and wide-eyed confusion.

"Sir?" By which she meant, Did that seem like an overreaction to you? Jack cleared his throat gruffly as what Carter might almost have termed a hint of blush rose in his cheeks.

"I mean. It's nothing. Just an old keepsake." His voice sounded strained. All through his description of his time with Ba'al, his voice had barely risen above an emotionless monotone. Carter was slightly concerned as to why this 'keepsake' would agitate him so. Wordlessly, she handed it over, confusion clearly written in the question on her face. He quickly pocketed it and cleared his throat, unable to meet her gaze. "I guess that's enough for today, Carter," he said abruptly. "Put it on my tab. See you in the mess for lunch or something." He shepherded her towards the door and out of it before she could say "Goodbye, sir."

Carter now found herself quite suddenly standing alone in the corridor. The door closed with a snap behind her. Her brow was furrowed – she thought she knew her CO well, but had absolutely no idea what had just happened. She gave his door one last confused look, and slowly headed away towards the elevator.

Inside, Jack snibbed the lock and leaned heavily against the door, eyes closed. It was unnecessary for him to be that protective, and he knew it must have come across as heavily suspicious, but he needed this one thing as his and his alone. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the photo, unfolding it.

It had been taken so long ago that he could hardly even remember where they were or why someone had decided that it was necessary to document it. There they stood, SG1, his new family, in front of a miscellaneous background of trees and mountains. They were laughing; he thought that he must have told a joke because Carter's face was upturned towards him. Their arms were all around each other's shoulders, and his was around her waist. Looking at it once more, he wondered for the umpteenth time how he'd got away with that; he had pulled her close to his side, defying anyone who would try to take her away. He smiled at the image; they had been so happy. Everything was simpler then.

Jack refolded the photo, so that it only showed himself and Carter, with their arms around each other and her looking up at him in what he desperately hoped was adoration. His eyes lingered a few moments longer. Then he forced himself to take a deep, shaky breath and replace the photo where it belonged – the inside pocket of his jacket. One hand balled into a fist and slammed against the door before he strode back out into the corridors of the SGC like everything was fine, and absolutely nothing was ruined.

Jack O'Neill – master of the poker face.