AN: Once again, I continued to be humbled by the number of reviews, favorites and follows to this story. Thank you all.

We are continuing with SG10's story here so language and situation warnings still in effect. Also, forgot to mention, Nelson, French, Hitch and any other original character are purely fictional. Any resemblance to other fictional or real persons is purely accidental.

***SG1***SG1***

Glancing at his watch, Colonel French was startled to see that they had been in the interview room almost three hours without a break. They had walked through the initial portion of SG10s mission to try to find any prior indication that all was not as it seemed. There had been little that would have warned the younger officer of the upcoming danger. Balancing if it was easier to finish this portion before lunch or bring Major Hitch back in, he glanced again at the time and made up his mind.

"What happened after you left the cage?" Colonel French asked quietly, noting the paleness and trembling in Major Hitch.

"I was... er...," Hitch paused, drawing in a breath to steady himself. Shaking his head, he grimaced. "It's fuzzy," he said quietly. "All I really remember is seeing Kevin and thinking that I could take him."

"You attacked Captain Shelby?" Colonel Nelson pushed for clarification his eyes scanning the report for something he missed.

"No," Hitch snapped emphatically. "No, I wouldn't hurt my team." Looking toward O'Neill, he sought confirmation that his commander believed him. Seeing a slight nod, Jon drew strength from the quiet support and understanding on his face. "I just thought it, but then, I don't know, something clicked and I realized who it was." Staring at the floor in front of him, he added, "He was pretty messed up. Bones sticking out," Jon gestured to his forearm, "barely able see, broken ribs, bleeding, exhausted." A shudder ran through Jon's body at the memory. "In shock, revulsed, a little nuts. Pretty much like me." The graveled confession hung in the air.

A moment of silence settled in the room before Hitch shifted, his fingers following the grain on the tabletop. "We didn't see anybody else until the Colonel came to get us," he added quietly, his eyes again flickering toward O'Neill.

"How did he find you?"

Shaking his head, Jon straightened in his chair. "Didn't ask. All I know is that he showed up with a gun and a GDO so we had a shot of getting the hell out of there."

"Where was Major Carter?"

Jon let another breath leave his body to still it. "Major Carter was with the Colonel," he said quietly.

Exchanging a glance with French at the deliberate choice of his words, Colonel Nelson pursed his lips at the sudden stillness of the Major's face and body. "Major Hitch." Waiting until the junior officer met his gaze, he continued. "We are not here to judge, only to understand." Seeing a flicker of something in Hitch's eyes, he pushed. "What about Major Carter? How was she?"

"The Major was with Colonel O'Neill, sir," Hitch repeated. "It's not for me to speculate how the Major was, sir."

"Major Hitch." The implied order in Colonel French's tone echoed off the wall.

Resolutely, Hitch held his gaze. "Respectively sir, I need a break," he stated, holding his ground while reminding them of Nelson's earlier statement.

Seeing the narrowing of the French's gaze, O'Neill snorted to break the stalemate. "Oh, for crying out loud," he growled, to draw his peers' attention. "If you want to know where Carter was, read the damn report and leave him alone."

Snapping attention to O'Neill, Nelson read the deadly stillness emanating from his body. This was not tension from discomfort or being overwhelmed by emotions. This was Jack O'Neill getting ready to throw himself into battle to protect someone under his command. Locking eyes, he read the silent threat in the brown eyes boring into his. Breaking his gaze, he turned to his Pentagon counterpart. "We'll find out later," he said lowly. Turning back towards the other men in the room, he cleared his throat. "Time is twelve seventeen. Inquiry is breaking for lunch," he said, reaching over and shutting off the recorder.

Seeing the slight nod from O'Neill, Al let the breath he was holding slip out of his body. The scrapping of chairs told him others were standing.

"Major," O'Neill called, moving closer to the younger man. "You okay to head back or need a hand?"

"I'll make it, sir," Jon answered, his voice low. Starting to turn away, he paused, his eyes darting to the Pentagon officers to make sure they were occupied before settling back to O'Neill. "Sir," he said softly, "Can I ask you a question?" Getting a nod to go ahead, he looked back down. "How do you do it? Knowing you're capable of..." Hitch bit back the sob that threatened to escape.

Jack flinched at the meaning of the words and the raw self loathing on the younger man's face. Looking down, he clenched his jaw and tried to squelch his own pain long enough to try to save another. "Major," Jack finally breathed, reaching out to stabilize the swaying man. "You did what you had to do to survive and get yourself and your team home. You gotta forgive yourself for that cause it likely won't be the last time you have to do something damn unpleasant to make it back."

"How? How do I do that?"

The raw plea stabbed at Jack's soul. The only outside sign of the new wound was a tick in the side of his face. "I don't have all the answers," he said gruffly, an apologetic shrug accompanying the words. Clearing his throat, he continued. "All I can do is focus on the ones that were saved because of what I did," a frown creased his forehead, "and try every day to find some way to make up for the rest," he added haltingly.

Sniffing, Hitch looked away. "Does it help?" he choked out.

"I have to believe it will," Jack said lowly, his eyes assessing Hitch. Seeing a tentative nod, Jack squeezed his arm before dropping his hand. "Let others in Jon, don't shut them out. Talk to Doc Mackenzie's guys. Tell your wife as much as you can. Hug your kids. Don't let this destroy everything."

Hitch gave the older man a short nod. "Yes sir."

Seeing a question if he could go, Jack took a half step back and nodded. "Have the airman help you," he ordered, gesturing to the door. "Fraiser will have both of our butts if you pass out on the way." Watching the younger officer leave, Jack felt a wave of fatigue pass through him. Catching himself against the table, he was surprised by a voice from behind him.

"You gonna take your own advice?"

Jack turned his eyes back to the doorway. "I'm long past saving."

Snorting, Nelson shook his head. "If that was the case, none of us would be here."

***SG1***SG1***

Pushing the pasta around on his plate, Jack blew out a breath and dropped the fork in the tray before him. He had been escorted back to his quarters and a tray brought to him for lunch. Nelson had told him it would be at least two hours before they reconvened. The soldier in him knew he should take the opportunity to catch some shuteye. Trouble was the non-soldier part of him was telling the soldier part to shut the hell up.

A knock on the door brought his attention to the room entrance. "You can wait outside," Fraiser ordered, stepping out of the way so the door could be closed.

"Doc."

"Colonel," Janet greeted him with a tight smile. "How are you feeling?" she asked pulling several items from the pocket of her lab coat and laying them on the table.

Shrugging, Jack eyed the vials. "What's going on?"

"Blood work," she answered, gesturing for him to give her his arm. "The others are experiencing some rebounding of their hormone levels," she explained. "Need to see if you are going to do the same."

"Hitch make it there upright?" he asked, watching her insert the needle.

A hum of agreement answered him as she let the tourniquet on his upper arm loose. Flipping vials, she added, "He's sleeping now." Glancing upward, she kept her voice neutral. "Must have been pretty bad this morning."

Pressing on the cotton ball and bending his arm to stop the blood flow after she pulled the needle out, Jack shrugged it off. "Pretty standard for these types of things." Licking his lips nervously, he threw the doctor a glance. "How's Carter?" An eyebrow raised at the subtle faltering of the doctor's movements at the question.

"Hurting," Janet breathed out. "Physically, emotionally, psychologically." Turning her gaze to him, she hated what she was about to say. "She remembered, sir." Another raised eyebrow had her clarifying, "That she called out for you. When Lieutenant Faber was there."

"Shit," Jack breathed, hanging his head.

"I had to sedate her afterward." Janet watched as he nodded slowly acknowledging her actions. "She sleeping now. Daniel's there in case she wakes up." Licking her lips, Janet sank into a chair near him. "Sir, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep her here. She needs more help than I can give her."

Jack's head snapped up at the words. "What?"

"Physically, she's healing, no sign of infection, pregnancy or any known sexually transmitted diseases. We won't know absolutely on some of those for a few weeks yet, but right now, things are looking good. Once her hormones stabilize, there is no reason for me to keep her under my care."

"And the rest?" Jack asked, gesturing to indicate he was wondering about the non-physical impact.

"She refuses to talk to anyone about what happened. She's having panic attacks, barely eating or sleeping. When she does try to sleep she has nightmares."

"What do Daniel and Teal'c think?"

"They're worried."

Swallowing, Jack picked up his fork and shoved the pasta around on the plate again. "Carter's a fighter. She'll get through this."

"I'm not so sure, sir," Janet breathed. "Right now she blames herself for everything that happened on the planet and in the infirmary. If you get charged and loose your commission..." Janet trailed off, shaking her head. Looking down at her hands, she added quietly, "I've already had to put Captain Shelby on suicide watch. I'm not so sure Sam shouldn't be there also."

Jack's jaw flexed at the statement. "Daniel and Teal'c are with her."

Janet nodded. "And that's the only reason I don't have her under observation."

Dropping the fork, Jack leaned back and ran his hands through this hair. "So what next? What does MacKenzie say?"

Shaking her head, Janet winced. "Sam won't talk to him. Tells him she's fine." Snorting, she shook her head again. "You taught her well." Swallowing, Janet looked at her hands. "If Sam doesn't begin to deal with this soon, she may never move past it. She'll never be cleared for duty again until she does, that's for sure. It wouldn't surprise me if MacKenzie requests to have her transferred to the Academy Hospital soon."

Jack winced at the truth of Janet's words. "Is there anybody else that might be able to get through to her?"

Chewing her bottom lip, Janet thought. "No one with full clearance right now, but there's a consultant that is close to the necessary level," she said carefully, raising eyes to him. "She's works out of Bethesda and specializes in trauma cases. I could request that she be upgraded and brought in. But," Janet stressed, to stop the Colonel from speaking. "Even if she is granted clearance, there's no guarantee Sam will meet with her until things are settled with you or that Sam won't be transferred someplace else for care."

Looking away for a moment, Jack nodded. "Talk to Hammond."

***SG1***SG1***