I would like to thank everyone for their patience in waiting for this chapter. Between school, personal illness, and writer's bloc, I found this chapter extremely difficult to write. I hope you all will enjoy it. I would also like to invite all of you S/J shippers to Valenship this Saturday (Feb.9) at Gateworld. I believe it will be on the Sam/Jack Shipper Thread.

A very special thanks to Mara-anni and AstraPerAspera for their wonderful editing skills and support as I thought I lost this chapter to the computer demons tonight.

Migraine

Chapter 10

The curser light on her desktop screen flashed insistently, demanding her attention. Briefly panicking about what it was she was supposed to be doing, she stared at the computer. She shook her head, trying to clear her fuzzy mind, refocusing on the numbers on the report beside the computer. The tightness in her shoulders was the direct result of the frustration she was feeling. Damnit, but numbers were her thing! She dragged her fingers through her hair, wincing as she almost pulled out a clump.

Sighing, she tried to concentrate on the printouts on her desk—trying to organize them into her report. The numbers danced across the page, refusing to be still. She gritted her teeth. Work that used to come so quickly now required so much effort. Not that it was harder; it wasn't--it just took a whole lot longer than it was supposed to.

How would this affect who she was? A medical discharge loomed on the horizon; she couldn't deny it even to herself, although her team tried to assure her that the program needed her. The longer it took the medical review board to issue her discharge orders, the more anxious she became. She was improving, but her inability to recall her imprisonment and the post traumatic stress episodes she still experienced when dealing with the…the...she shook her head. She'd been gallivanting about the galaxy, stepping through it to new planets for years and now she couldn't even think its name without agony-which is what made the discharge inevitable.

Janet never did find a physical cause for the migraines she still experienced. She agreed with Dr. MacKenzie that the headaches were in all probability PTS flashbacks to the torture with the ribbon device. Whenever she came in direct contact with the st…with the device…she still suffered the burning, agonizing headaches. She might be getting better in that she could at least think of the large metallic circle without an embarrassing collapse unlike that horrid day in the control room. But that wasn't exactly going to keep her in the Air Force and certainly not at the SGC.

Whatever the reason, she wasn't exactly getting over it. What made this time different? She should be able to get over this! She had been tortured before, and with a ribbon device. What was wrong with her that she couldn't get over it—move beyond it—put it behind her like she had all those other awful things she'd been through? So much for "Super Sam" who could solve any problem, figure out any solution, fix anything. Anything except herself.

The pencil she hadn't even realized she picked up suddenly snapped in her hand.

Could she stay here and endure the pity of the entire base? Would she be allowed to leave? She didn't want to leave the Air Force—the SGC. She wanted to be the one out there, exploring new planets, being the first to touch and experience new technologies! That was her life, not this paper-pushing, calculation-checking, number crunching existence she had been shoved into. She was getting sick and tired of being told how "valuable" she was to the program--how they "needed" her. This wasn't what she wanted to do. This wasn't who she was…or at least not who she used to be.

Janet…the Colonel…Daniel…Teal'c-- they were all worried about her, she knew. Well, she was fed up with their pity, with their "walking on eggshells around Sam" attitude. Their smiles always seemed forced now, and they were tense around her, as if they were afraid she would suddenly shatter. At one time this would have pissed her off. But getting angry would require energy and she never seemed to have any of that any more. Smiles…laughter…again, too much effort, and really, what was the point? Even the science she had always found so intriguing, so exciting, held little appeal. There was no joy left in her. Maybe it was time to go.

"Carter."

She started at the sound of his voice. Damnit, she hated it when he snuck up on her like that! He didn't enter the lab. His stiff posture hanging in the doorway radiated his tension and in turn ratcheted up her own nervousness.

"Sir."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Gazing at him warily, she watched him move slowly into the room. He kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The news couldn't be good. She wracked her head…had they just returned from a mission? She couldn't remember. Where were Daniel and Teal'c? Had they been hurt?

Her heart began to quicken its pace. She glanced at the Colonel for assurance, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Instead he cleared his throat.

"Colonel, what's wrong?" She couldn't quite keep the note of alarm out of her voice.

This time his soft brown eyes locked with hers. "Your discharge has come in."

So it was official. Discharged. The tiny spark of hope she didn't even know she kept burning was now extinguished. A chill permeated her being and she laced her fingers tightly to keep them from shaking. Don't cry, she chanted to herself. Not in front of him. Despite her orders to herself, she could feel tears filling her eyes. She ducked her head and blinked away the tears.

Without looking up, she knew the Colonel was now seated on a stool next to her. A quick glance confirmed he was mirroring her, staring at his tightly clasped hands. His close proximity radiated concern. He made no move to touch her, and she was grateful for that. His comforting touch would give her the excuse to completely break down. If that happened she might never recover. That was unacceptable. No matter what happened, she needed to have his respect.

She was thankful that he didn't bring Daniel and Teal'c with him to the lab. It would have been impossible to keep up the stoic façade with Daniel hovering over her, pity shining from his kind, blue eyes.

"So…what are you going to do?"

She stared at her hands. "I guess I'll go home in a little while. Watch some T.V. I've got to finish this report first."

He sighed. "Carter…" His voice trailed off and she noticed he dropped his head. His voice became quiet. "I'll always be here for you. Always."

Keeping her eyes on her hands, she nodded at his words. She knew he meant those words now, but she was no longer part of his team, no longer able to do field work. Even if she stayed at the SGC, she would soon no longer be a part of his life. It was inevitable. Her spot on SG1 would go to another. Oh, at first they would all make an effort to keep her involved, maybe even include her on team nights. But in time they would become busy with off-world missions, seeking her company less and less. The distance between them would grow until it was as deep as the Grand Canyon.

Catching a sob before it could escape, she turned back to her computer screen and began typing. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to turn around. Her heart was breaking; she had lost her career and her team in one shot. She'd lost him, though he would deny it for awhile. Eventually, though, he'd move on too. Why would he want to hang around an old has-been?

"Look, Carter, I won't pretend to understand what's going on inside that genius head of yours. But you don't have to do this alone." She could almost see his grimace as he continued, "Daniel won't let you, anyway. He's pretty stubborn that way."

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "Thank you, sir, but I'm okay. It's probably best if I get back to this report."

She felt him stand behind her. Please don't touch me--I'll break down completely if you do! His hesitation was palpable, and in the end he didn't. How could she be so bitterly disappointed when he did as she wished? I've got to get out of here. I can't think with him so close.

Again, he stopped in the doorway. "Call if you need anything…Sam."

Her heart constricted painfully at the use of her name. Long ago, he had used it easily—before things became…tense…between them. It had been so long since she had last heard him say it, she couldn't even remember when. It hurt to think of those times when things were easier between them, but she couldn't help the thrill that coursed through her even as she thought she might burst into tears.

When she was sure he was finally gone, she grabbed her keys and bolted for the elevator. As the numbers scrolled past, her head began to pound and she just needed to get away from the suffocating pressure of the mountain. It wasn't until she reached the refuge of her house that she finally allowed the wracking sobs she had been holding back to surge out of control.