Chapter 20
Jack had a frustrating day - one of the "Hurry up and Wait" variety. He drove his buddy's car to the Army Hospital in Auburn, Maine about an hours drive. That was the best part of the day so far, beautiful country. He had to have more poking and prodding and X-rays. And no, they couldn't read them here; no, they had to have the results electronically sent to the SGC to be evaluated while he sat around in some god-awful hospital gown.
"It's my hand and my foot! For cryin' out loud, why do I have to take my pants off?"
The long suffering technician glared at him, she, too, was having a bad day.
He had spoken to Hammond a few days ago and was ready to fling the supposedly secure phone he had been given to use. When he had time and the presence of mind to have a conversation with Sam the damned thing wouldn't work and when he was sitting, waiting, with his ass hanging out in a drafty hall way it worked fine. But cell phone use was not permitted here.
He was even thinking of pulling rank but there were too many men here with wound that would never heal as easily as his had. He did snag a robe and spent his time talking to the men who filled the wards, young men so similar to the men in his command, so similar to the men he had lost. He listened to their stories and praised their service. When asked how he wound up with a cast on his hand he simple said "Severe paper cuts, one of those hazards of paper shufflers".
What Jack didn't know was that every one of the service men he shook hands with or laid a hand on their shoulder felt better. Not only felt better but physically were better, nothing dramatic mind you but better.
When he had finally been given a clean bill of health, his casts removed and a regiment of physical therapy proscribed, he sped off to Bath for his next appointment. That completed he drove back toward the summer rental.
Much of the drive was along a pleasant road hugging the shore and gave him time to think and wonder why Sam hadn't contacted him. He left the SGC before he had gotten a chance to say goodbye to her. Probably for the better. There were a lot of things he ignored with Carter but this felt like Ba'al's acid burning a hole through his heart. All these things he swept under the rug he was eventually bound to trip over.
It seemed as though their relationship was like the waves of the ocean – sweeping back to reveal and then surging in to bury what it had cast upon the shore. They had spent their professional lives hiding what they felt only to occasionally have the artifice be swept away and the truth revealed. Would it all be covered up again, buried in regulations and formality?
He parked the car at the cottage and then walked to the little village to pick up some food. He barely had time for a bit of breakfast in the morning and missed lunch completely, so an extra large deli sandwich and a cold beer was just what the doctor should have ordered if they had any common sense. He needed to stretch his legs after the day of sitting so he walked the quarter mile or so to the village sandwich shop from the cottage. Strolling back with the afternoon sun warm on his back he saw her standing by the small house looking out toward the water. He thought it looked as though she were having almost as good a day as he. He profoundly hoped both their days were going to get monumentally better. Then fear clawed at his belly this was the rest of his life and it was all in her hands.
"Carter"
She turned and smile nervously at General Jack O'Neill with a six pack under one arm and a bag with his sandwich in the other, and juggling a cell phone. He looked as confused and nervous as she felt.
She wanted to say 'Jack' but "Sir" was the word that came out of her mouth. She expected a 'What the hell are you doing here' but heard.
"Damn, I've been trying to call you but this phone is an absolute piece of shit."
She couldn't help herself she just beamed.
He smiled back and felt hope, sweet fragile hope fill his soul. He lifted up the packages a few inches and asked
"How about some lunch?"