A/N's: thanks again for reviewing, guys. Glad you liked the conversation between Jacob and Jack. I really thought he was the perfect one to help Jack deal with what happened...

but... not there yet... On with the next chapter!


"I don't want to calm down! I don't want to lie down! I want to get out of here. Don't you get that?" O'Neill shouted agitatedly at the
nurse. The Colonel was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face red from anger and he thumped his fist into the blankets.

"Please, Colonel," the nurse tried to reason again. "You can't just yet, Sir."

"Yes, I can, and I will." Determined, O'Neill jerked the IV-line loose, completely ignoring the fact that he tore the skin of his hand while
doing so. Trying to move his still stiff and uncooperative arm forward, he got tangled in the IV-line that lay across the bed and angrily pulled hard on it until the whole pole fell to the ground. He then tried to stand up, swaying dangerously as his body struggled to get accustomed to a standing position after having been flat on his back for so long.

"Sir," startled, the nurse rushed forward to help, noticing O'Neill had a hard time staying upright.

O'Neill grabbed the nightstand for support, since that was closest within reach but it rolled away under his weight. Staggering, O'Neill cursed, meanwhile grabbing the bed frame and managed to stay on his feet. A solid kick against the nightstand rolled it further backward until it loudly crashed against the infirmary wall.

"What's going on in here?" Janet Fraiser entered the room, alerted by the noise. She looked around, taking in the fallen IV-stand, the nurse desperately shrugging at her and the very, very angry Colonel. Motioning with one hand toward the door, Janet quickly turned to the nurse. "I'll take it from here, Susan. It's okay."

Susan sighed in relief and headed for the door.

Janet now turned her attention to the Colonel. "What's wrong, Sir?" she asked gently.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" he snapped. "Everything is wrong. I've had enough of it already and I want to go home. Now."

She eyed him in concern. O'Neill looked pale and fragile, yet stood there, determinedly, angrily glaring at her as if daring her to object. She was about to tell him the facts; that he was still in the early stages of his recovery, that the sutured wounds were only just healing and that he couldn't go home just yet.

She suddenly thought the better of it, though, as the words spoken by Colonel Bayfield echoed in the back of her mind: 'O'Neill is usually pretty good in telling what he needs. You just have to look for it...'

She had to find out what he needed and telling him things he didn't want to hear wasn't going to get her anywhere, so she tried a different approach. "Why?" she asked softly.

"Why?" The anger slowly eased as it was replaced by surprise. He obviously hadn't expected that question.

Janet stepped forward, bent and picked up the IV-stand to put it back in place. "Yes, why. I know you don't like being here, Sir. I know you also know that I won't keep you here any longer than absolutely necessary. What's so important now, then?"

O'Neill hesitated, then helplessly shrugged. "I just need to be alone for a while. It's..." he pulled a face at her. "No offence, Doc, but I can't even sigh out loud without somebody coming to check if I'm all right..."

She threw him a faint smile and moved to put the nightstand back into position, placing everything on top back in order. "We're worried about you, Sir."

"I know. And I appreciate it." He sighed and wearily brushed a hand through his short grey hair. "But..." Without finishing his sentence he dropped his head and stared at the floor.

Standing in front of O'Neill, she studied him closely, trying to understand what he was telling her. Come to think of it, he had been acting different all day, barking at everybody coming too close, even chasing his team out of his room. It seemed somehow very important that he had some time in private. Would it harm him if he spent one night outside the infirmary, she suddenly wondered. "If I let you go home temporarily, you'll come back tomorrow?"

He lifted his chin to face her, stunned at her question. "What?" he stammered. Taking in the serious expression of the woman in front of him, he shrugged. "Well, I'd rather not... but... yes."

She nodded, her decision made. She would risk it, letting him go home for one night. He could do without the IV fluids and the medication he needed was available in pills, so that shouldn't be a problem. She patted on the bed. "Sit down, Colonel."

He complied without losing eye contact with her, probably already tired from standing up.

"There's one condition, Sir," she spoke firmly. "Well, apart from the usual stuff like don't do anything your body isn't up to yet, no alcohol and all; but I'm sure you know that... I'm coming over to your house tonight to see how you're doing. If needed, you'll come back with me then. Otherwise, I want you back tomorrow before noon. How does that sound?"

His face lit up like a kid who had just opened up his Christmas present. "Deal, Doc," he said quickly, afraid she would change her mind.

Janet smiled. "I'll ask Daniel to give you a ride home, then, Sir."

Annoyed, O'Neill glanced at her. "I need to be alone, Doc," he objected.

Fraiser frowned then nodded in understanding. "Right. I'll have an airman drive you home, instead." She grabbed his hand, examining the damaged skin then rose to get some equipment. "Let's clean this up, then we'll get you in some proper clothes. And please, no sudden movements or you're going to pull some stitches loose."

He touched her wrist, hesitatingly. "Thanks, Janet..."

Smiling, she put a butterfly strip over the damaged skin. "You're welcome, Sir. Just take care of yourself, and call me if you need me. Promise?"

He nodded slowly. "Promise."


Janet Fraiser pulled her car into O'Neill's driveway, parking it close to the front door. It was almost nine in the evening and she was extremely tired. With the Colonel gone, she'd been helping out Doctor Warner all day. She got out, noticing there were no lights on inside the house.

Having a pretty good idea where he would be she walked around the house and climbed up the ladder to the roof. Although it was already getting dark, the sky was clear and the stars and moon brought enough light on the roof to see. She found her patient sitting on the floor of the telescope platform, comfortably leaning with his back against the railing, his face lifted as he was glancing at the stars.

He looked down into her direction as she stepped onto the roof. Janet noticed that all tension and agitation from that afternoon had vanished and that his face now showed a peace nearing serenity. Whatever he'd been doing, it had helped him. Relieved that her decision appeared to be a good one, she approached him. "Hi, Colonel. How are you doing?"

"Fine," he watched her coming closer. "I needed this. The solitude. Thank you."

She knelt next to him to take his pulse and check the healing wounds at the back of his arms, using her flashlight for a better view. "You're welcome," she said, pleased to find nothing amiss. "Have you taken your meds?"

"Yes," he acknowledged, slightly annoyed.

She smiled, knowing he hated it but glad he had followed all of her instructions.

"And what about you, Doc?" O'Neill suddenly demanded, eyeing her in concern. Even in the dim moonlight he noticed the paleness of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes. "When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

Janet shrugged. "I'm fine, Sir," she tried to wave him off.

"Uh!" He raised his finger. "Don't lie to me, Doc. You're not fine. You're exhausted, I can tell. Any problems sleeping?"

She glanced at him, realizing he knew her better than she thought. She sighed heavily and lifted her hand to brush the hair out of her face.

Jack grabbed her wrist with his free arm, completely ignoring the way the sudden movement pulled on some stitches at the back of his arm. "Janet?" His face filled with concern, he looked at her, questioningly.

She shrugged as a shiver ran up her spine. "I, I keep seeing him. When I close my eyes, he's there." Her voice trembled and suddenly Janet found herself unable to keep her emotions under control as tears started to well up in her eyes. "Nightmares, Sir. I'm sure you know all about it..."

He pulled her closer with a sad look in his eyes. "Come here," he said gently, laying his arm around her shoulders as she sat down next to him. He briefly hugged her. "I know. It's okay, Doc... "

"No, it's not," she cried out. "I killed him... I killed him..."

"Yes, you did," O'Neill responded calmly. "If you hadn't, I would have, or he would have killed us. There was no choice, Janet."

"I am a doctor!" Pressing one hand firmly over her face she sharply inhaled, tremors racking her body. "I am supposed to *help* people getting better. I'm supposed to save people's lives, not take them!"

O'Neill closed his eyes and swallowed, briefly wondering how he was going to deal with this. Pulling her closer, he rubbed her arm. "There's no way we can turn events around, Janet. It happened and now we just have to deal with it. Think of it as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But always remember that he was the one who started it, he made the choice to do the things he did. You didn't. You had no choice at all. Don't go blaming yourself for being forced into a situation you never asked for, okay?"

The woman sobbed, finally giving in to a long repressed desire and need to break down and cry. During the whole rescue operation she hadn't allowed herself to give in to that. After returning to the SGC she had been occupied with patching up O'Neill, being there for him while completely ignoring her own needs. Now, after having slept for only a few hours a night since their return, she couldn't hold it back any longer. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook, gasping irregularly for breath.

O'Neill just held her, quietly stroking her hair. "That's it... Let it all out, it's okay. Have you talked to anyone?"

She shook her head, her shoulders still shaking as she cried.

"Didn't think so," he murmured. "You'll be okay, Doc... It takes a while, but the nightmares will wear off. As soon as you've accepted that whatever happened, happened. That's the first step."

"Accepting?" she asked through her tears.

O'Neill blinked, staring at the stars. "Yes. You'll keep butting your head against a brick wall if you can't accept the facts, if you know what I mean..." The older man paused for a while. "Acceptance comes first, and believe me, that's the hardest part. It's all downhill from there. You'll see..."

With one hand, Fraiser wiped the tears away to look him into the eye. "Are you sure?"

He nodded confidently. "Promise. I'm an expert in this, remember?" She smiled wearily through her tears.

With his thumb he brushed her cheek, wiping away another tear that rolled down there. "You're going to be fine." Pulling her closer he hugged her again and she buried her head into his embrace.

O'Neill just sat there and continued gently rubbing the Doctor's back until the shaking stilled and her breathing eased into a more regular rhythm. Looking down, he realized she had fallen asleep, probably feeling safe for the first time since the day of the attack. He smiled sadly, partially glad that she was asleep at last, but hating it that there was nothing else he could do for her, not to mention that he hadn't been able to prevent this whole ordeal to begin with.


She didn't know what roused her, but something forced her to wake up at once as she jerked her head up, opening her eyes to find nothing but darkness around her.

Where was she?

Fraiser couldn't remember at first but then felt the arm around her shoulders that held her close, and the hand that softly rubbed her back.

"Hey," a familiar voice broke the silence.

Still dazed and confused Janet sat up straight, pulling herself loose from the comfortable embrace, her eyes, accustomed to the dark, now darting from the stairs she'd climbed on earlier that evening to the man that had held her in his arms, or one arm in this case, while she slept.

"Colonel..." she stumbled, suddenly embarrassed. Thankfully it was too dark for him to see the color of her cheeks as she felt them burning uncomfortably. "I think I fell asleep..."

"Nooooo..." he teased her, slowly stretching and bending his arm as his muscles had stiffened from all but carrying Fraiser's weight while she resteed against his chest.

Janet rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands and then let her fingers run through her hair. She glanced at her watch, pressing the little pin to enlighten the plate. "Four in the morning!" she choked. "Heavens, I've slept..."

"Like a baby, Doc," O'Neill grinned.

"Oh, my God," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. Watching him flex his legs with a grimace he couldn't hide, she quickly leaned forward. "You, Sir?" she queried, gently placing the back of her hand against his brow. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," O'Neill answered simply.

His face was calm, his skin cool under her touch and she felt him shiver from the cold. Janet moved her hand to take his pulse. "Have you slept, too?" she demanded.

He shook his head.

"Let's get you inside, Colonel," Janet decided. "You're too cold and you need to rest."

"Actually, I need to take a leak," he said, grabbing her outstretched hand and then scrambled to his feet.

"That, too," Janet chuckled and followed him, climbing down the stairs to get inside the house. She was surprised how he carefully and slowly climbed down, managing with only one functional arm but then she realized he'd had a lot of practice in the past. While he used the bathroom, she went into the kitchen to boil some water. Five minutes later she walked over to the Colonel's bedroom, two cups of hot steaming tea in her hands. "Here's something to get warm, Sir," she announced.

He sat on the edge of the bed, motionless, sadly staring at something he was holding in his hand.

She stepped closer, frowning. "Colonel?"

He looked up. His eyes were dark and distant but he quickly shook it off and placed the piece of paper on the bedside table, smiling wearily at her. "Thanks, Doc..." he dropped his head. "For everything..."

She approached him, worrying. "You're welcome, Sir," she said. "I need to check your stitches; can you lay down for me?"

He did, after letting her help him undress, which was still difficult to manage alone with one arm trapped in an external fixation device and stitches in both of them. Carefully he maneuvered himslef, placing the arm with the metal construction on a pillow, until he was on his stomach, allowing her to check the back of his thighs.

She was pleased to find the wounds steadily healing. The swelling was slowly ebbing away and the dark purple stains now had faded into lighter colored patches. The stitches were holding well and could be removed within a couple of days, she guessed. Satisfied, Fraiser wrapped the bandages back around the healing areas. "Everything is still healing nicely, Sir. Let's get you under the blankets."

He carefully turned around and then, with clenched teeth, slowly moved into a sitting position until his back was leaning against the bed
frame.

Fraiser pulled the blankets over his legs before turning her attention to the back of his free arm. "I'll have to pull these closer tomorrow," she sighed, realizing her presence on the roof that night must have had something to do with the stitches not holding like they should have. "Otherwise, it's looking fine, too. Try to keep that arm from moving too abruptly, Colonel." She handed him his tea.

"Are you staying?" he asked.

Fraiser sat on the foot of the bed, holding her cup in one hand. She nodded, slowly sipping the hot tea. "No point in going home now. Cassie's staying with a friend, so I might as well catch some more sleep on the couch."

He finished his tea, tiredly placing the empty cup aside before cautiously crawling under the blankets. His eyes were slowly closing as sleep threatened to overwhelm him. With a faint nod of his head he motioned to the paper on the bedside table. "I want you to read that," he said wearily.

Frowning, Janet picked the piece of paper up. "What is it, Sir?" she asked in surprise.

"A letter. From Marc," O'Neill mumbled. "Bayfield brought it to me this morning..."

Fraiser stared at the Colonel, waiting for more but nothing came as she watched his breathing slowing down, his eyes completely closed now until he was sound asleep.


well, and wasn't that the very reason Jack needed to be alone... Hope you all like the little talk between Janet and Jack. I love their relationship, I think it runs very deep, trust-wise.

so... how about a nice Christmas present?

I will get the last chapter ready on December 24, so you all have a nice Jack-inspired Christmas gift. I would even tie a big bow around it if I could...

So in between your preparation for the most wonderful Christmas, make sure you find that little moment for yourself... You know you deserve it, right?

See you guys!