Part 7: A Little Less Conversation
Sam argued with Jack about eating, and forced him to get sleep when he pushed too much. She was taking good care of him, and it was normal behavior of the "caregiver" according to the little pamphlet they gave him at the hospital.
The "caregiver" often has to feel like they are doing something supportive and helping in some way. As the one with cancer, he is supposed to be "patient" with the "caregiver." But in Jack's mind, the "caregiver" in this case was also sometimes being a complete and total mother hen, pain in the ass.
Sam refused to tell him about work. The only exception was when she would give him updates on how friends and colleagues were doing. Mostly things like Siler having a new girlfriend, to which Jack complained, "Why do women fall all over that guy? What do they possibly see in him?" To Hammond's granddaughter winning the state-spelling contest, to Daniel looking forward to going to Atlantis. Broad things– no missions, no discoveries, no end-of-the-world stuff–which was probably for the best Jack assumed.
Instead of work, Cassie was often a topic of conversation these days. She had handled Janet's loss so well, that it was almost too good to be true. It seemed to be hitting her now, after the fact. Or at least that was Sam's theory for Cassie's recent erratic behavior. It was just one more heavy burden for Sam to have to handle right now, and Jack felt sorry for that.
Other than chemo, mother hen nagging, and Cassie, things were pretty good for him at the moment. He had Sam in his life… well, sort of. She was around, she made him meals, she shared a place to live. They'd kissed, they'd snuggled. But no sex.
Not that it was the only thing he wanted from Carter, but it was something. Jack wanted to be patient and wait as long as she needed to feel safe and ready, really he did. But he'd already waited too many damn years as it was.
He could be wrong– after all, more than once Sam had to help him up off the bathroom floor while he had god-awful stuff coming out of both ends due to the chemo. The experience might have ruined part of his overwhelming coolness factor for her. But Jack was pretty sure that in spite of it, she was still attracted to him. She wanted it, but damn it that woman was good and not allowing herself to cross the intimacy line. Sometimes, Samantha Carter could be more stubborn than he was.
Jack knew there was something else, and probably it really didn't have to do with him. Though, if Sam were having second thoughts about being stuck with a sick old man, Jack wouldn't blame her. For some reason, he just doubted that was the case. He knew Sam for a lot of years and had seen her in every conceivable situation. Jack had developed a healthy intuition about her after all this time. So, he was pretty sure that he wasn't the issue. She was.
He had spent the last week trying to decide how to get it out of her. Not that Jack wanted to do all the talking stuff. God, he hated that and he was crap at it. But, he figured Daniel had been right, the only way to get to the much more enjoyable non-talking activities was to get the talking part out of the way.
Jack took a deep breath and set down his fork.
"Not good?" Sam asked as she looked up at him. She wasn't a gourmet cook, but she could handle a filet and mashed potatoes. Or so she thought.
"It's good." Jack met her eyes, searching. "Just not hungry I guess."
"You feeling OK? I could call-"
"Carter," he cut her off. "I'm fine. I feel fine. Everything's fine."
"OK." She took another bite of her potatoes but her eyes kept glancing at him suspiciously.
Oh, cut the crap, Jack told himself. She can tell something's up anyway. "You know what? There is something wrong."
Sam sent down her fork, bracing herself for the next round of bad news. Maybe Cassie called earlier with a fresh set of tears. Maybe the doctors have new information, something bad enough that Jack was afraid to tell her.
Jack announced with flourish, "Sex."
Sam blinked. "What?"
"We're not having sex and that's a problem for me."
"Oh."
Jack said flatly, "I sense it's not a problem for you."
"I, well, I…" She was stammering.
"Maybe you're not physically attracted to me? I don't do it for ya?"
Sam assumed this meant his doubts were creeping back in. He thought he wasn't worthy and he expected Sam to figure that out and leave him. Especially now that he was so vulnerable.
Sam went from shocked to compassionate in a split second. "You know how I feel and I'm going to be at your side through all of this. I've told you a thous-"
"Is it the cancer then? You are afraid I'm too sick? What about my good days, Sam? There are times I have more than enough energy and strength, you know that. Or maybe you see me differently now?"
"No, of course not." Sam's brow was wrinkled in concern.
"You've figured out suddenly that your gay?"
"Jack," she said, a little annoyed.
"Good. I didn't think so, but I wanted to rule all that out, just to be thorough. You wanna know what I think the real problem is?" He pinned her with his eyes. "I think you're scared."
"Of what?!?"
"I don't know. I'm not that scarey."
She wasn't sure what could be said in response to that. Her nerves were rattled and she wished her heart wasn't beating so fast and hard that it was echoing in her ears.
"You're right," she said, maybe a little too suddenly, and brightly, "let's go for it."
"Carter," he groaned. Geeze, she was treating this like he was that pillaging pirate again, about to ruin her and than make her walk the plank. "Going for it, as you so romantically put it, is not an answer to my question."
Sam was working up a little bit of a temper now. "I don't have an answer."
"Yes, you do. You just won't tell me. You won't let me in. By me pushing this, I know I'm taking a chance that you might run. But I'm hoping you won't."
Jack got up and took his plate into the kitchen. He cleared it, put it in the dishwasher, and all the while Sam sat at the table staring into space. Finally, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. That's how Jack knew Sam had made a decision, she'd tell him.
"Over here," Jack waved her over to the sofa. "Do you need something?"
"Wine might be good." She said softly.
He arranged that, getting a bottle of white from the refrigerator, opening it and pouring two glasses. He was between rounds of chemo for a little bit and could indulge in one glass, probably, without much of a problem. Hopefully.
When he sat back down, Sam took a sip. She seemed defeated and small to Jack. He longed to hold her but he sensed that wasn't the best thing for the moment.
"You're right, I am scared." She admitted.
"Of me?"
"No, not you. I'm not even sure… it's not rational."
After a moment, she began again, "I've been dreaming of my mother." Sam took another sip before starting to talk in a soft timbre, not in her "sciency voice" that Jack was so accustomed too. It was the quiet, gentle side of Sam, the one that he'd seen much more of since he'd gotten sick.
"When I was little, my mom called me 'Samantha' and my father insisted on 'Sam.' He always wished they had another boy. And I don't know, maybe because my dad clearly preferred Mark, I was always trying to please him. I started to go by 'Sam' all the time, with friends, the rest of the family, everyone. I just became Sam. This was all before…"
She took a breath and changed direction. "I never did anything to try to make my mom proud. In fact, I was always running off trying to be one of the boys and I never really spent much time with her." Sam took gulp of wine, trying to clear the thickness in her throat. "God, Jack, I've never told anyone about all of this, and you of all people hate this kind of thing."
"When it's you, it's not so bad. Go on, just ignore the snoring." He amended, "Kidding, kidding." But he had gotten a small smile out of her, which was the whole point.
After a moment, Sam said suddenly, "She died in a car accident. Did you know that?"
Jack nodded. "I was your CO, I saw your file, Sam."
"Oh, right." Why did it seem that the SGC was a million years ago, and a million light years away?
"I'm sure that was tough." Jack prompted her.
She looked up at him. "They say, not as hard as a parent losing a child-"
"Oh, no you don't. This isn't about me. This is about you. Stop trying to change the subject."
She nodded. He reached over and squeezed her hand, trying to encourage her. Just get it out, he wanted to say, you'll feel better afterwords. Jack knew better than anyone, the year of therapy after that first mission to Abydos had done wonders for him. And he of all people, he hated talking more than anyone.
But in the Air Force she couldn't see a psychiatrist without it becoming part of her record, and therefore, possibly affecting her future. Jack realized how much she'd had to deal with, all her life and still to this day, never really letting it out and letting go properly. He made a decision in that moment to always be her sounding board. He may not be a big fan of the whole talking thing, but she deserved someone who would listen to her and help her get through.
"It changed me, Jack, it's part of who I am and it shaped me. I can't help it, I'm so afraid of losing someone the way we all lost her. The guilt never goes away. Dad couldn't talk, sleep, eat. He poured himself into work and I never got to see him. Now he's gone too. And I'm- I'm exactly like him, Jack. He always said that."
"You're not. For one, you've got a better body than he ever did."
Sam amended, "OK, maybe not exactly the same, but you get my point."
"Sure. You're afraid of getting hurt like he got hurt, like you all did. So if you never go too far, always hold something back, you can't get hurt completely."
Sam nodded, reaching for her wineglass.
"Ah, news flash, Carter." He looked around the house they shared and between the two of them on the couch together.
She met his eyes over the rim of her glass. After a hearty sip, she set it back down and looked at him again. "Yeah, I know. Not logical. I said so in the beginning."
Sam wished tears weren't threatening. It made her so girly. She spoke with a voice that was broken.
"It's just that this– your diagnosis and us having to go through this, it is my worst nightmare come true. I can't lose you, Jack, I'm not strong enough. I've lost too many people already." The tears came then. "And it's not like in the field, no amount of physics or math or military training or anything I can do will change this. You are the one who means everything to me and I have no control-"
Jack reached for her, gathering her to his chest. "We're fighting and you're helping, just like always."
"Yes, it's just..." She couldn't find the words to finish.
"Scarey," Jack completed her statement. "I get it. But what I don't understand is what in the heck all this has to do with holding out sex?"
Sam shook her head, though hampered by the fact that she was being held tight to his chest. "I don't know, subconscious way of preventing me from getting any closer than I already am? Maybe it won't hurt as much in the end? I don't know."
"Well, cut it out."
"Jack," she raised her head to look at him, curiously, with slight curve of a smile on her lips. "Do you only want me for sex?"
"No," he fought the automatic urge to be flippant. Serious honesty was needed in this moment. "It's just the only part of you that I don't have. I'm a selfish man, I want all of you."
She pulled back, and looked away, his eyes sometimes could be too much. She picked up her wine, and tipped it back, finishing off the last drops in the glass. Jack held the bottle ready to refill it for her.
She raised an eyebrow at him, "Trying to get me drunk?" He didn't say yes, but he didn't deny it. Sam changed her mind and set down the glass before continuing.
"A while ago, I dreamt of my mom. It was like any other dream, like a memory of her. But then she told me that there wasn't much time left. She was warning me. That's why I thought something was wrong with me, but it was you."
Sam looked up at Jack, waiting for him to laugh at her. It was unreal that a woman of hard science such as herself would believe in dreams and visions. But they'd seen enough to know that anything was possible.
"Sometimes, I want to be Samantha again, the side of me that was shaped by my mom, the part of me that's a woman, the part that wants nothing more than to give into love. But I'm my father's daughter."
Jack offered. "I think you're a little of both of them." Sam nodded slightly, not sure if she agreed, but a feeling of release did start to grow.
"Samantha." Jack put a finger under her chin to tilt her face up, and then he placed a kiss gently. "I'll try, but I kinda have an unnatural attachment to 'Carter.' It means a lot of deep, intense things to me, that I'm sure some psych could make a fortune trying to work out."
A smile flirted across her lips, "It's OK." Because frankly this wasn't as important in the long run as she was making it out to be at the moment. She was just feeling sentimental and needy. " 'Cater' has come to mean a lot to me too. You have a way of saying it."
Jack had that look in his eye, the one she'd seen plenty of times before. It had always made her nervous. "I'll do whatever will make you happy… Samantha."
There was one last lingering doubt and she was reluctant to say it aloud. "What if after all this time, all the waiting… what if it doesn't live up to your… you know, expectations."
He gave her a look. "In this relationship, the only one allowed to worry about not being good enough is me."
Sam shook her head. "You're not allowed either." Then she whispered, "Come're," opening her arms to him.
Jack dove at her, his enthusiasm was so great. Sam wrapped herself around him and kissed him, tenderly at first, but they became urgent and heated very quickly.
Horizontal, on the couch, with Jack solidly rounding second base and headed toward third ("Nice!") was the exact moment Daniel decided to call.
"No," Jack grumbled as the phone rang. "You are so not getting that."
As Sam reached for it anyway, he complained, "That is such a cliché."
Sam said, "Hello."
Daniel thought she sounded a little funny, breathless and… something else. "Sam, it's Daniel. Glad I caught you."
"Hi, Daniel."
Jack growled. "Tell him the next time I see him, I'm gonna Zat him."
Daniel heard the comment through the phone. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine," she said, squirming out of Jack's reach and sitting up. "It's Jack, grumpy complaints are normal, remember?"
"So, he's feeling better then?"
"Oh… well on his way to much better, I'd say."
After she finished the conversation, she followed Jack out onto the patio. She put her arms around him from behind and lay her cheek against his back. "Want to come inside now and finish what we started?"
"Nope," he didn't sound angry. "I've changed my mind. Now, I'm holding out on you."
"Oh, come on," Sam groaned. "What could I do? Daniel and Teal'c have been worried about you."
Jack turned in her arms and hugged her. "Yea, I know. But I'm still going to give you a taste of your own medicine."
"For how long?" She asked between laughing at the ridiculous look on his face and gasping at the way his hands felt on her skin. He was teasing her– in more ways than one.
"Don't know, I haven't decided. But probably it should be more special than on a couch like two horny teenagers anyway... We'll figure it out. We'll figure everything out. OK?"
"OK." Sam leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You let me know when it's your turn to talk."
"No! Not talking!" His playful outburst ended with a soulful, wounded, "Always with the talking."
"We'll start with your feelings of inadequacy," she said, clearly enjoying this. "Particularly misguided in my opinion given the fact that you've chosen a tomboy science geek."
"Hey," Jack's tone changed, "that's my science geek you're talkin' about and she's no tomboy." Sam's eyes twinkled at his defense of her.
Jack added in a sly whisper against her ear. "Just because she can shoot a p90 doesn't mean she can't fill out a uniform in all the right places." Then he placed a series of little kisses down her neck.
Sam sighed with pleasure humming through her body, feeling lighter than she had in years. Thanks to everything that was Jack– crazy, grumpy, pushy, and perfect. Perfect for her, for as long as the cosmos allowed, she was lucky to have him.
