A/N: This A/N is almost identical to the last one. Sorry (again) for the delay in writing. I struggled with it, wrestled with it, and finally this is the result. As always, feedback rules. Remember, if you don't provide an email link, I cannot respond to your critiques, and I always reply to my readers.

I have to apologize too, for this. A wonderful reviewer and/or GW buddy gave me the "medals" premise for this story. I forgot to note whom, so let me just say . . . thanks for the great idea. I've changed the POV, but hopefully . . .

Set after The Devil You Know. Ep synopsis: During an attempt to rescue Carter's father, SG-1 is caught by one of hell's denizens, determined to use the information they possess to overthrow the Goa'uld lord Sokar. Using Tok'ra technology, the team is forced to relive painful memories.

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Unsung Heroes

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Jack closed the door behind Teal'c and Daniel, taking a moment to enjoy the blissful silence of his home. He loved Daniel, though lord knew the man could talk enough to make even a saint lose their patience. Brushing away a few of the wind-driven rain that had blown in during the short time he'd held the door open, Jack turned and headed for the kitchen. He was two steps from the doorway when a muffled curse coming from down the hallway stopped him. Glancing briefly at his unexpectedly empty living room he turned and headed toward the sound.

"Carter?"

"Here."

Muffled grumbling followed her response, and Jack slowly padded down the hallway until he found her. "Carter?" This time he drew out her name, his confusion clear.

"Sir?"

Jack watched as his Second tried to clean up the items spilled at her feet. Odds and ends from more than twenty years in the Air Force, bits and fragments of a former life mixed in with his new. He squatted next to her, stilling her agitated movements. "So . . . dare I ask . . .?"

Carter shook her head, her eyes avoiding his. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I don't want you to think I was snooping. I mean, I was looking for –"

"Carter." Jack placed his hand on her wrist. He gave a brief squeeze, waiting until she looked up at him. "What's goin' on?" Watching as his normally unflappable Major visibly forced herself to relax, Jack eased backward until he was sitting cross-legged in front of her, the box forgotten between them.

"I really am sorry, Sir. I came in to change, 'cause Daniel and his beer . . ." She exchanged a small smile with him at the vagaries of their often clumsy teammate. "Then," she continued, "I remembered something. Or, really, had more of an idea about the new decentralized power for the–". Catching Jack's frustrated look, Carter stopped and began again. "Anyway, I needed a pen, so I began hunting through your desk." She finally looked at him squarely, obviously prepared for him to be angry. Then she reached behind her and pulled out another box Jack recognized.

One he hadn't seen in a while.

His jaw tightened and, when he realized Carter had seen his reaction, Jack sucked in a long breath. "Ah. I see."

Carter was quick to jump in. "I, I know I shouldn't have looked. It's none of my business. But, I opened it, then dropped it. And . . . I mean, I knew about you, about your . . . well, on paper, I mean. Most of it, anyway. The stuff I was able to find. But to see –"

"'Stuff you were able to' . . ." Jack raised an eyebrow. What could she mean? He was more intrigued when he saw the deep red flush crawl up her long neck and suffuse her face with color.

"I, ah, I mean. That I could, you know, um, read . . ." Her voice trailed off and she gave him a weak smile.

"I see." Jack sat silently, his eyes on the box she held, wondering what systems she could have possibly hacked to read his file. His highly classified file. After a long moment he slowly reached forward and eased the carved wooden box from her hands, his fingers brushing hers as he did so. "Well, c'mon then." With a soft grunt he rose, wincing as his knees popped with the movement.

"Sir?"

Carter stared up at him from the floor, and Jack reached toward her again, this time extending his hand for her to take. When she did he gave her a tug to help her to her feet. "If you wanna see the goods, Carter, let's go get comfy." He winked at her, aware of the innuendo and just as aware that he'd flustered her.

"I, ah . . . okay, Sir." Carter brushed her hands down the legs of her jeans. "But, really, Colonel. You don't have . . ."

"I know." Decision made, Jack turned and strode back down the hallway toward the living room. He set the box on the coffee table, then bent to poke at the fire he'd lit earlier. Daniel had insisted on a team night, since a computer glitch had canceled Carter and Jacob's father/daughter trip. They'd rescheduled, but then Jacob had been called back by the High Council, leaving SG-1 with an unexpectedly open weekend. Team night had turned into, as it often did, dinner at Jack's, a bad movie, and a fire. The punishing rain outside had forced them to build their usual after-dinner fire inside, however, and now Jack just added a few logs to ward off the growing evening chill.

"Can I get you another beer?" he asked as he heard Carter approach. When she shook her head, he shrugged and joined her on the couch. Gesturing toward the box with his chin he said, "Go on, open it up."

"You know, Colonel. I mean it. I'm really sorry, and we don't –"

"Carter." Jack leaned forward and grabbed the box. He set it between them on the couch and, his eyes on hers, reached forward and flipped open the catch.

"Holy . . ."

Jack gave a little snort. "You know, Carter, your dad being a General and all, I figured you'd seen enough bling like this to last a lifetime."

Carter shook her head as she gently lifted the medals out of the box. Someone had removed them from their velvet cases and almost casually tossed them here. The most recent were on top and it was those she lifted out first. "It's funny, though, isn't it, Colonel?"

Not understanding her meaning, Jack just tilted his head, waiting for her to continue. Carter looked up and caught his eye, then smiled gently as she continued her examination.

"I mean, they give us these, and they don't really say anything, do they?" Setting aside the top layer, those with whom she was most familiar, she reached again inside. "You have a bronze star?"

"Iraq."

"First time?"

"Yeah."

"But . . . oh."

Carter glanced at his leg, and Jack knew she was remembering their conversation in Antarctica.

"I guess this goes with it then?" She held the bronze medallion with its wide, blue ribbon, bordered by thinner white, blue, and red stripes in the palm of her hand. Flipping it over, she read the back, and Jack automatically said the words aloud as she did, "For honorable service while a prisoner of war."

When she looked at him he shrugged and said, "I've never figured out what's so honorable about being a POW."

"Yeah."

Carter's voice was soft and she tightened her hand around the medal. Jack could see the tension around her eyes. "Look, Carter, we don't have to . . ." He was beginning to regret bringing the box out.

"No, Sir." She looked up, her eyes shimmering slightly. "If you don't mind, I want to, Sir. I want to know."

Jack held her gaze for a long, silent moment. He'd turned off all but one light in the room earlier and now the dancing fire cast an amber glow around the room. Shadows flickered and dipped, making the bronze medals seem warmer, giving the silver medals an eerie reddish tinge. He rarely looked at the things after he was given them. Aside from those pinned to his rarely-worn mess-dress uniform, he didn't give the decorations much thought, except as a required accoutrement to the stiff formal wear. The ribbons attached to his service dress had long ago blended into a fruit salad of color, their individual meanings lost to time and deliberate forgetfulness. Finally he nodded and gave Carter the go-ahead to continue. It wouldn't hurt, he told himself. It would do him good to remember.

Sure it would.

"Colonel?" Carter looked up at him in surprise. "I don't understand, a Silver Star?"

Reaching out, Jack pulled the insignia from her hand. "Yeah."

"But, I thought that was an Army thing."

"You can get it if you're attached in any capacity to an Army unit."

"Oh."

The wonder in her voice caught him up short, and Jack quickly placed the gilded star back into the box. "Always thought it was odd that they call it a 'silver star' and it's actually gold."

As if sensing his mood Carter, too, began gathering up the items she'd pulled out earlier, her expression pensive as she identified them. "Defense Distinguished Service Medal, Air Force Distinguished Service Medal, Defense Superior Service Medal, Airman's Medal . . . Colonel, you have almost every award they have to give."

Jack stilled her movements with a hand on hers, waiting until she met his gaze. "Yeah. You know, Carter . . . these are just . . . things, right?" When she narrowed her gaze at him he tried again. "They're just . . . I don't know. I always felt that they were the Air Force's version of a–"

"No."

"S'cuse me?"

Carter shook her head, then turned her hand over in his, her fingers squeezing his once before pulling away. "No, Colonel. They mean something. They mean that you left a piece of yourself behind for something . . . for someone."

"You have some too, you know," he reminded her. He thought for a moment, then added, "And we really should have one for some of what we've done lately."

"Sir?"

"Netu?"

"Oh. Well. Yeah, I guess." She gave him a half smile. "What do you suppose the medal for that would look like?"

Jack shrugged. "Knowing the military? If they can make a Bronze Star gold, they'd make an award for surviving the actual hell look like an ice cube. Or an angel."

Beside him, Carter snorted softly. She gently nudged the box closer to him, then she slid off of the couch onto the floor.

Jack watched as she assumed her favorite fireplace pose, one shoulder against the couch, the other brushing his leg. Her long limbs tucked up against her chest and her arms encircling them, her face darkened in profile against the fire. She leaned her head back against the couch seat and caught his eye. The look on her face froze him for a moment, her eyes were wide and guileless, her expression open. When she opened her mouth to speak, Jack realized that sitting here with her like this, the rain sheeting down outside, the fire warming them both and bathing the room in magical light, he would do whatever she asked and damn the consequences.

"Sir?" Carter's voice was soft, hesitant. She angled her head a bit more to catch his eye. "Will you . . . will you tell me about them? About how you earned them?"

Glancing down at the box, Jack sighed. "Can I ask why you want to know, Sam?"

Carter's own sigh mirrored his and she turned her head toward the fire while she considered her answer. When she spoke, her voice was soft but steady. "I . . . I'm sure this is stepping over that line . . . Sir. But . . . you're the best man I've ever known. Certainly the best CO with whom I've ever worked. I know the stuff on paper," she said, almost dismissively. "But I want to know . . . to . . . know . . . from you. Sir. They're a part of you, and that's . . . important to me." She swallowed convulsively and continued. "We both know, don't we? So many who'll never receive even a moment's recognition. Tell me about them." Carter pivoted again and this time turned her back to the fire, so that she only had to lay her head against the couch cushions to look up at him. She studied his face for a long moment before adding, "If I'm too far over that line, Sir, I'll just–"

"No. Stay." Jack met her gaze and felt himself reaching up to smooth a wisp of hair from her forehead, his eyes locked with hers. Aborting that movement at the last second, he instead reached again inside of the box. "Might as well start at the beginning, I guess. You'll notice there's no Good Conduct medal." Gratified by Carter's chuckle, Jack pulled out a bronze medal hanging from the wide gold ribbon accented with red and bordered by green. "This will really date me, Carter."

"Vietnam." She gave him a brief smile of understanding and then turned again, this time settling her back more solidly against his legs. Now facing the fire, she again tilted her head to rest on the cushion, clearly settling in to listen to him for as long as he was willing to talk.

"Yeah. Vietnam." Jack's fingers moved forward of their own accord, touching the golden ends of her hair where it lay so close to his thigh. "I really don't want to think about how old you were then." He gave the strands a slight tug as she softly chuckled again, then left his fingers tangled loosely in the silken strands as he continued, the medal resting on his knee and his eyes on the woman at his feet. "I was barely eighteen, green as all get out and scared as hell. As the newbie in Spec. Ops, I was shipped to Nha Trang Air Base . . ."

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End.

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Afterword: Original premise as sent to me: " . . .where Sam knocks something over something at one of the team nights and finds them in his desk or something and even though she knows that he received them, it just means something to actually be able to see them up close and all that that man has been through and such."

Second note: the awards that are in Jack's box are attributed mostly to the Stargate Wiki. I did find some errors there, some awards he couldn't have possibly earned, so corrected my private list. I did figure that he would have earned the following (not counting badges): Air Force Medal of Honor,* Air Force Cross,* Defense Distinguished Service Medal,* Air Force Distinguished Service Medal,* Bronze Star, Defense Superior Service Medal,* Airman's Medal,* Bronze Star, Purple Heart, Defense Meritorious Service Medal,* Meritorious Service Medal,* Air Medal,* Aerial Achievement Medal,* Air Force Achievement Medal (with V for Valor), Organizational Excellence Award (with V for Valor), POW Medal, Combat Readiness Medal, National Defense Service Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Southwest Asia Service Medal, Humanitarian Service Medal, Air Force Overseas Long Tour, Longevity Service Award, Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal, Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi Arabia). The "*"'s indicate the awards that I believe came after season 3 (which we're still in, remember!).