A/N: For everyone who is wondering, yes, we are going to start learning about what happened to poor Sam very, very soon. But first, we'll check in with each of the boys and see how they're doing. And now on with the show. Enjoy!
What A Tangled Web We Weave…
Jack knew, had always known, that he was not a patient man. He needed to be doing, not waiting around until someone gave him permission to get to the doing; hence at least some of the many black marks that marred his personnel file. But he was beginning to realize that there were worse things than sitting around waiting for authorization to take action. Yep, Jack was coming to understand that it was infinitely harder to have authorization to act but to have no information on which to act.
Not for the first time that afternoon, Jack pushed himself off the couch he'd only settled on a few moments ago and made his way outside, leaving Daniel and Teal'c to man the impromptu command post they had established in Sam's living room. He could feel his teammates concerned eyes on his retreating back, but he knew they would respect his need to have a few moments to himself.
Nodding at random SGC personnel he passed along the way, he was relieved to finally step outside into the cool, crisp air of a late autumn afternoon. Sliding the glass door shut behind him, Jack effectively cut himself off from the flurry of activity inside his missing teammate's house, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He drew in a large lungful of air before exhaling slowly, trying to expel some of the worry that gnawed at his gut. It had been over five hours since he had arrived and they were no closer to finding Sam than they had been then. Aside from Mrs. Smithson, none of her neighbors had seen anything suspicious, no one recognized the car or the man who had taken her, and neither he, nor Sam, nor the vehicle had been spotted in the intervening hours. Feeling helpless wasn't a new experience for Jack, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with right now.
Crossing the small wooden deck, he rested his arms on top of the low railing around the perimeter and looked out over the sun-dappled yard. A moment later, he was straightening up again, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the item that had poked into his upper thigh. Staring at the spoon, the helpless feeling was replaced by a fresh wave of guilt, this one even stronger than the previous ones.
In his haste to get back to the base for his meeting with the general, he had forgotten to take another trip upstairs and leave Sam a clean spoon for her cough medicine. Jack realized it might seem ridiculous that a spoon could leave him feeling wracked with guilt, but at the moment, the utensil was a reminder that he had made a terrible mistake. Yet again, he berated himself for leaving Sam alone when she wasn't up to defending herself, should the need arise. Mrs. Smithson had been confident there had only been one man involved in the kidnapping; Jack knew for certain that, had she been well, one man never would have been able to abduct his 2IC without her putting up one hell of a fight and drawing all sorts of attention to the scene.
It would probably sound paranoid to just about anyone else, but Jack knew better than most how big a target Sam had worn ever since Jolinar had crawled inside her head, having sat in on many a meeting during which individuals representing various branches of the government and military lobbied General Hammond for permission to essentially use Sam as a lab rat. They all claimed to be interested in protecting Earth, but Jack knew most of them simply wanted to satisfy their own curiosity – how Goa'uld hand devices worked, how much of their thoughts hosts and symbiotes shared, what changes her time as a host had wrought on Sam's body – and didn't give a damn about what their answers would cost her. To make matters worse, most groups' interest only seemed to grow after each unusual experience or freaky alien encounter, culminating in everyone demanding the opportunity to pick Sam's brain when word got out that she had accessed an honest to goodness Ancient's thoughts a few months ago.
To date, General Hammond had done a bang up job of shielding Sam from the requests made through official channels, and the older man had an agreement with Jack that the task of protecting her from unofficial channels fell to her teammates. That, Jack knew, was why he felt so terrible at the moment. Hammond had approved every measure Jack had requested to try and keep her safe, and yet one bad decision had still given the NID – every instinct he had screamed at him that they were responsible – all the opportunity they needed to grab her and disappear.
Heaving a sigh, Jack rolled the spoon back and forth between his fingers, watching the sunlight play off its shiny surface. He knew it was hypocritical to be out here blaming himself for Sam's disappearance, knowing full well that as soon as he went back inside he'd be chastising Daniel for doing the same thing, but he couldn't help it. He'd always felt a strong sense of responsibility for the people under his command, although never quite as much as he felt for his current teammates, and as such, he couldn't not blame himself.
"Where the hell are you, Carter?" Jack asked quietly, the words escaping his lips on another sigh.
He wasn't surprised when the still backyard gave up no answers.