Warning: Language

To Hell and Back Chapter 6

Unwilling to reveal his change of heart just yet, Jacob stayed glacially silent throughout the return journey. The all too obvious lack of remorse on the part of his passenger had the Tok'ra rethinking the promise he'd made and the meting out of a hard lesson on obeying orders was almost too tempting to deny. He could almost feel himself salivating at the thought. However, the mental image of giving said punishment wavered dramatically when a picture of Kate's disappointed face interrupted his musings.

He could not, however, deny himself the satisfaction of continuing to treat O'Neill as a lowly airman and as he got out of his vehicle he barked, "We'll talk about this in the morning. Get to bed, now!" And seeing the slight hesitation, he growled, "Don't make me say it twice, mister."

Sam stood on the top step of the deck. "Sir, are you okay?"

She might as well not have existed for all the attention Jack gave her as he climbed the steps and went inside.

Watching the fleeting sadness wash over her features, Jacob sighed. "You may have noticed his little game of hooky didn't do much to improve his disposition."

She didn't think she was up to having a discussion about him just yet so opted for a change of subject. ''How's Kate?"

"Probably snoring like a hippo as we speak, and no doubt she'll be wallowing in misery tomorrow morning." He shook his head, again wondering at the way intelligent people could put themselves into such brainless situations.

"Look, if you want to head back to her place, I'll be okay here."

Tilting his head to the side, Jacob observed his daughter and smiled gently at her generosity. "Thanks, but I'll stay here; I've an early morning wake up call to do." And searching her features once more, he promised, "He is going to be okay, Sam."

"Is he?"

All the pain, confusion and heartache were poured out in her two words of doubt and as Jacob took her in his arms, just for a moment he cursed fate and he cursed Jack O'Neill in particular for being the man to whom his daughter was so desperately in love.

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Long before the sun rose, long before the nightmares cut in and long before his body had a chance to revolt against the memories, Jack was summoned from sleep by a curt command to get up and get dressed.

Frowning at the lack of natural light, Jack glanced at his watch, his eyes widening until his memory cut in and understanding made him stifle the groan of dissent he'd been about to make.

He dressed on auto-pilot wondering what retribution Jacob had devised, yet grateful that it didn't include trekking - no boots had been thrown at him.

Shivering in the chill of a morning yet to dawn, Jack trudged in Jacob's footsteps, frowning as his intuition told him where they were heading.

"Jacob?"

"Jack?"

"Care to explain why we're heading for the woodshed?"

Jack kept his voice purposely neutral, unwilling to reveal his hesitation though his defensive body language was not as easy to conceal. Smiling to himself, Jacob's lilting reply did nothing to improve Jack's concern.

"Don't tell me you've never found yourself being marched to the woodshed before, Jack."

Frowning as he stepped inside, Jack held his breath as Jacob took a deliberate step towards him and then suddenly, a lethal looking axe was thrust into his hands. It was almost welcome even when Jacob pointed to the huge pile of wood.

"Get to it, mister. I don't expect you to leave here until this lot has been turned into kindling. Do I make myself clear?"

Feeling the heat rising in his face, Jack was glad that the shadows concealed his relief and surprise. For one awful moment he'd actually thought...

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It was meant to be a welcome respite from his toils.

Having had plenty of experience of this particular form of punishment when growing up, she knew that being older made it no easier. He would, Sam was sure, be aching from the strenuous activity and in his weakened condition it would be taking more of a toll than normal.

Carrying the pitcher and glass, she hovered outside the shed for some time before giving an exaggerated cough and pushing open the door.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the diminished light she saw him glance over his shoulder, his T-shirt sodden with sweat, and almost in slow motion he stopped, dropped the axe at his feet and turned to face her. Wiping the sweat trickling down his temple, he then used the inside of his arm to mop up the rest on his face. As she watched him, he nodded stiffly and she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I...I've brought you some fresh juice with ice, lots of ice. It can get hot doing this work - I know."

She was rambling; she knew it but couldn't help herself as she walked towards him holding out the glass. As he took it she began to pour, willing her hands not to tremble. When she'd finished she looked up, trapped by his scrutiny of her.

"H...how's it going?" Forcing herself to break away from his gaze, she nodded at the smaller pile of wood.

He grunted which, she decided, could have meant anything. He didn't bother to clarify it and she didn't bother to ask. She had other, more important things on her mind.

When he returned the glass to her she knew she'd been dismissed but he didn't move to retrieve the axe, simply continued to watch until her uneasiness made her turn, almost stumbling to be outside.

"Whatever it is you want to say, spit it out, Carter."

The words were spoken so softly that for a brief moment Sam felt she was talking to her old CO, the man who cared about his team, the man who would do anything to...

"-and then leave me the hell alone."

As she closed her eyes and bit the bottom of her lip, she tried hard to quell the rising dread she had kept in check.

"What did you expect me to do?"

Her disappointment was evident as her voice rose and she wrapped her arms around her body, mirroring Daniel when he was in full anxiety-mode. Her blue eyes were larger than ever, now watching his every move.

Directing a look of such accusation at her that her heart began to race more than ever, he threw back, "I didn't expect you to help put a snake inside me!"

He made no effort to hide his anger with her and it was almost as if he were too disgusted with what he saw and had to turn away.

Unable to accept this dismissal, she found herself reaching out, grabbing his arm, forcing him to turn back to meet her anguished features.

"You were dying! I had no other choice!"

"You had two choices!" he spat back. "Only two, damn it, and you chose wrong."

The flatness of his stare, dull and brittle, drained the burning blood from her, and dropping her hand as if scorched, she stepped back, unable to accept what he had said.

"Did you expect me to sit back and do nothing?" She was stunned.

"I expected you to be a professional officer and accept the inevitable! I expected you to prevent me being taken over by a snake who was too shit-scared to face Ba'al and who left me to rot in a living hell! I expected you to allow me to die in dignity instead of having every ounce of self-respect stripped from me inch by miserable f-cking inch!"

The bitterness of his words spewed forth in a tidal wave, the force in him holding her still when she longed to simply turn tail and run. Dreading that he should see the betraying tears pricking at her eyelids, she set down the glass and pitcher and thrust her hands into jean pockets, her fists bunched so tightly that her nails punctured the flesh of her palms.

Shuddering with dismay, her mind tried to fight the injustice of his words, to come up with some form of defense, but despite her efforts, her voice remained silent. Only her anguished eyes spoke out as she directed a look of such unbearable sorrow at this injustice, yet it served only to increase his ire.

"What?" he snapped caustically. "Did you think I would be grateful? Did you think I'd be bending over backwards to show my everlasting appreciation of you dragging yet another god damned white rabbit out of the magician's hat?"

Where his gaze rested, her skin seemed to burn with such intensity she thought she would cry out in pain. But at least it was a focus for her, one that allowed her to block out the invective that Jack continued to churn out. Or so she thought.

When the sharp retaliation came, she was as shocked as the victim when her hand made hard, hurtful contact with his stubble covered jaw, the impact jerking his head back with the force.

In the vacuum that followed not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken as both stood eye to eye. And as her eyes blazed into his, she saw reflected a glittering hardness which crushed all feeling within her. Twisting away she felt the tenderness she had long felt for him wither within her. With a look of deep reproach she stiffened as she took a deep breath in hopes of quashing her impulse to flee; she felt beaten and defeated. Without a word more, she walked away.

As if her departure had taken all energy away, Jack found his legs no longer had the strength to support him and he stumbled outside, collapsing onto the wooden bench which faced the river. Slumping over, he dropped his head into his hands wishing that the last five minutes of his life could be erased from his memory.

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Scrutinizing her features in the bathroom some time later, she nodded with approval at her artistic skills. The swollen eyes and blotchy skin had all but been concealed beneath her application of makeup, and though there was still a slight tinge of pink to the whites of her eyes, she knew her sunglasses would deal with that until the eye drops got to work.

They were both in the kitchen when she came down the stairs. Jacob had set Jack to chopping vegetables - a continuation of his punishment detail - while he was working to de-bone a chicken in preparation for the arrival of Kate.

Moving with quiet determination, she grabbed her bag and looking over her shoulder, mentioned casually, "Don't wait up for me, Dad. I probably won't be back for dinner."

He couldn't help it; he was still her father. "Going somewhere nice?"

She paused, trying to decide how to answer his too casual question but having made up her mind, her lips parted in a grin, showing her perfect white teeth. "Probably; I decided to take Matt up on his invite." And before Jacob could respond to that little titbit of information she had gone.

Eyebrows raised in obvious surprise, Jacob turned back to the chicken, but it could be seen that his mind was not on the job at hand and raising his head, he looked at Jack carefully, assessing the younger man.

"Well, that's one for the books. Matt Granger has been trying to get her to go out with him for the past year and a half, but she's always made some excuse or another. Hell, I was beginning to think Jonas had put her off men for good..."

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"Want to talk about it?"

Sam looked up from contemplating her coffee and colored.

"Sorry Matt, I zoned out there for a moment." She smiled apologetically and trying to make up for her indiscretion, asked, "So how is Olivia taking to motherhood?"

It was so clearly obvious what the man's feelings were who sat opposite, he seemed to shine like a lighthouse, his brown eyes dancing with laughter as he went on to regale Sam of the delights of having a baby in his family. "I'm actually surprised I haven't zoned out on you. I'd heard all about the sweetness of a full night's sleep but for some stupid reason I was sure that it wouldn't affect me. Hah! Famous last words. If we get four hours straight it's a huge achievement."

But then the proud father smiled to show it wasn't a problem at all. "Olivia is half fascinated, half terrified all at the same time and yet...Luke's totally magical. We creep in when he's asleep in his crib and just stand there like two idiots, just watching him and wondering how such a miracle could come about."

And then realising how carried away he was sounding; Matt screwed his nose up and muttered," Now it's my turn to apologize. There's nothing more boring than new parents talking about their perfect babies."

"Don't be silly. These few hours have been just what I needed; grounding with a bit of sanity in a world that's not so nice at times."

Searching her eyes and deciding she looked as if she needed more company, he offered, "Look, why don't you come back with me and see Luke in person. He's a stunner with bald head and no teeth. You'll fall in love at first sight, I promise."

"Of that I have no doubt," said Sam smiling broadly as she stood up from the table in the cafe, "but I'd better be getting back. I don't get to see much of Dad now that the two of us are off travelling the globe so much. Tell Olivia hi from me and that I'll pop in next time, oh, and if she wants to change the present," and here she indicated the large wrapped gift on the next seat, "there's no problem."

"Are you okay, Sam?" Matt had paused to observe her, worried at what he saw, the strained appearance and shadowed eyes.

Plastering a huge smile on her face, she punched him on the shoulder playfully. "Are you insinuating that I don't look as gorgeous as you keep insisting, Matthew Granger?"

His smile reflected hers as he shook his head. "Life's tough out there, Sam. You ought to take a little time out. Slow down and have some fun."

Then reaching out, he pressed his lips to her pale cheek, gave her shoulders another comforting squeeze and watched her as she walked away.

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(Chapter 7 to follow)