I'm at home, recuperating from mouth surgery so have been able to update quickly - I may not be able to do so quite so regularly after this weekend - sorry.

I know some of you are finding this story rather difficult - and for some it's hitting close to home. I'm sorry if any were disturbed or upset by the content - but please know things will get better and thank you all for your kind comments.

Finally - I'd like to acknowledge a great fan fic writer - Not a zatarc - for the inspiration behind this story. Her story Changes gave me the idea for mine. If you haven't yet read her work I would suggest you check out her stories. Changes and it's sequel are especially good. (oh and she's a great whumper!) Thanks

"You're going and that's final!" Henry told her sternly. "You spend all your time upstairs, looking after that, that -" he didn't continue, knowing that she'd kill him if he said what he was thinking. "with Jack. You need to get out and meet people, have fun. You'll enjoy the dance. There are lots of single men and they'll be glad to have a new dance partner."

"I can't leave him", she said softly, not looking up from her mending. "I have to be here and look after him."

"Hannah– ur Samantha, I can look after him just fine. I'm not an imbecile – at least not yet. It'll give me something to do. You can feed him before you go. I'll stay in his room if you'd like. I can take my book and read in there. He'll be fine!"

She so wanted to go. Not because of the dance – she really couldn't care less about that – but she needed to get away, even if for a little while. She felt like she was suffocating and knew that, in the long run, it would be better for her and for Jack if she were to get away, even if only for a few hours.

"How would I get there?" she finally asked. She missed the look of triumph on Henry's face.

"Charlie will take you", he said. "He's planning to go. He's quite some dancer. He'll look after you and can bring you back when it's over. And I'll watch out for Jack, so you really have no excuse."

"I don't have anything to wear." Normally such a comment would be the typical cry of women everywhere who were planning on going to a special event. In her case it was true. She had a few skirts and blouses – mostly things that Charlie or Henry had managed to pick up on their travels into town. What she didn't have was anything good – anything for a party. She couldn't very well wear the dresses, most of which were too short, and she practically laughed to imagine everyone's reaction if she showed up in her BDU's. They were carefully tucked away in her drawer upstairs. She'd quickly realized that to fit in on this planet she'd have to act and dress like the women here, even though it galled her. She also hated wearing the uncomfortable and highly impractical clothing.

"You can go into town and get something", Henry said, interrupting her thoughts. "Rebecca Townsend has a little dress-making shop. I'm sure she can whip you up something quickly."

"I don't – I can't-"

"I'll give you some money." He held up his hand as she went to speak. "I don't have anything to spend my money on", he told her. "Let me do this. It will give me pleasure to see my granddaughter having fun."

She'd long given up trying to convince him she wasn't his granddaughter, Hannah's daughter. As Charlie had said, he seemed to get some happiness out of believing her to be family. She sighed. "All right", she finally agreed, instantly to be filled with guilt.

"I'm sorry Jack", she told him as she put on her – hated – bonnet. "I'm just going into town to get a dress. I won't be gone long and Henry will look after you." She leaned down and gave him a kiss on his cheek. As always he followed her with his eyes, but didn't move or speak.

She smiled briefly at him and resisted the urge to apologize again. With one final look at him she turned and left the room. She just missed the small sound he made.

She had a lovely time that afternoon. She chatted to Charlie all the way to town and he told her some more about all the people in Mariscola and had her laughing – something she hadn't done in a long, long time. When they arrived he dropped her off at Rebecca's and told her he'd be back in two hours.

She found the young dressmaker to be a sweet and interesting person. She hadn't lived long in Mariscola – she was originally from the big city of Treesor – a couple of day's wagon ride away.

"I wanted to try something new", she explained. "I've always liked adventure – and so I decided to come out to the frontier."

"And you like it?" Sam asked.

"Mmm hmm", she nodded, then she grinned. "Well actually it's more the people I like."

"They're friendly here?"

"Well – most of them. But – don't tell", she suddenly looked shy. "Stanley asked me to marry him. We're going to announce it at the dance."

"Oh – congratulations", she told the young woman. Stanley was the owner of the local mercantile and seemed like a nice young man.

"Thank you! We figure it will also be good for business", she explained. "I can open my dress shop right inside the mercantile and it should help increase business for both of us."

Sam had to laugh – it wasn't very romantic but the young couple were obviously thinking with their heads.

"What about you", Rebecca suddenly asked. "Do you have – someone?"

The smile instantly left Sam's face, although the other woman was pinning her hem and didn't notice. "I – not –"

"Oh", Rebecca sat back and looked horrified. "I'm sorry, I forgot about – I don't know his name."

"Jack, it's Jack", she told the other woman.

"Jack. I – I heard that he was injured. I hope he's okay?"

Sam laughed – a bitter sound. "No – I'm afraid he's not. He – he had a head injury and he's – well -"

"I know", Rebecca interrupted, "I'm so sorry", she said again. "It must be terrible for you. How do you manage to keep going? If anything happened to Stan I know I'd – I wouldn't want to go on."

"Some days I don't", Sam answered softly. "I – miss him so much. I wish you could have known him. He was – funny and kind and brave. He would sometimes drive me crazy but I always knew I could trust him to – keep me safe. I – he's not there anymore – even though I keep praying he'll come back to me."

"Stan says" she paused, "Stan says maybe it would be better if he were to –"

Sam looked up at her. "To -? To die? Is that what he says?"

"I'm sorry", Rebecca said, tears gathering in her eyes. "I didn't mean - he wasn't trying to be cruel. It's just we all feel so sorry for you and for him."

"No – it's okay. Some days I feel the same", she said quietly. "And then I hate myself for thinking that." She finally straightened up and took a deep breath. "I've taken enough of your time. Thank you so much for all your help. The dresses are going to be beautiful. I'll probably have Charlie stop and pick them up – unless I can come in again before the dance."

"It was so nice to have another woman to talk to", Rebecca told her. "I just hope I didn't offend you?"

"No, of course not", Sam smiled. "I – really have to go. I'm supposed to meet Charlie", she lied. She had to get out of here before she burst into tears.

She paid Rebecca a deposit for the dresses she'd ordered and then said goodbye. She still had an hour before Charlie was to have come for her. She looked down the street, shading her eyes, wondering what she should do. She noticed the small stream behind the town and decided to go there and sit for a while. She needed to gather herself together before seeing anyone else.

She'd been sitting for a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet of the afternoon, when she heard a sound and looked up. "Mr. Manning", she said, recognizing the man walking towards her. She went to stand but he motioned for her to stay seated.

"Please, call me James. I hope you don't mind", he said, smiling. "I saw you over here and thought how lovely you looked. I couldn't help myself – I had to come and say hello."

She smiled at him – she couldn't help but be slightly charmed and flattered. "Thank you", she answered. "I'm just sitting and waiting for Charlie to be done and then we'll head back to the ranch."

"May I?" he gestured to the space beside her.

"Of course."

After he'd sat down he turned to look at her. "How's Henry", he said with a frown.

"He's okay", she answered, "For a man of his age he's doing well."

"Mmm hmm", he replied, distractedly. "You know Samantha – can I call you that?" When she'd nodded he continued. "You know – if ever anything happens to him, you can always rely on me", he told her. "It's hard for a woman alone and I'd be glad to help out with the ranch – or with business – or anything you need. Never be afraid to ask."

"Thank you", she smiled, suddenly wondering why she'd been bothered by him before. He really was a nice man.

They stayed chatting for a while until she realized it was time to go. She had a sudden feeling of dread as she remembered the room at the top of the stairs. She'd enjoyed being out – except for the last few minutes with Rebecca – and she dreaded being stuck back inside. 'Forgive me Jack', she said silently. How could she be so selfish?

"Is something wrong?" James asked. "You suddenly looked rather sad."

"Oh – no. I'm just enjoying the day and am a little sad that it's coming to an end."

He looked flattered and she realized how her words must have sounded. She felt badly then – she really didn't want to lead the man on. As much as she had enjoyed her time, her heart was well and truly back at the ranch. Even though Jack was no longer here – he would always have her heart.

"Let me walk you back", he offered, holding out his hand to help her to her feet.

"You don't need to do that", she replied. "It's just a few feet."

"It's no problem, believe me", he told her. "I'll deliver you safely to Charlie. Uh – Samantha?"

"Yes?"

"Could I – would you mind if I came by and visited some time?" he asked.

She was about to refuse, about to tell him that she loved the man in the room at the top of the stairs, when something stopped her. Would it be so wrong? As long as he knew that she wasn't interested in any kind of a relationship, then would it hurt? She missed her friends – she missed Teal'c and Daniel and craved having someone – a brother – she could confide in - and Jack would never know.

"James", she started to say. "I – this has been nice but I – you have to understand that I – "

"Jack?" he asked. He knew the man's name from speaking with Henry.

"Yes", she answered. "We've – I'm his – there'll never be anyone else for me."

"I understand", he nodded. "But does that mean we can't be friends?"

"No – as long as you understand that's all we can be", she told him.

"Okay – if that's all I can have then", he held out his hand and took hers, "here's to friendship."

He accompanied her to the store, where Charlie was just finishing up his purchases. The hired hand looked startled to see James – and rather unhappy. "You ready", he asked Samantha.

They piled everything in the wagon and soon were headed back to the ranch. Neither of them saw or heard James as they pulled away.

"You're not going to keep me from what I want Jack, my boy. And I want Samantha!"

As soon as Charlie and Samantha had left, Henry made his way up to the room where the man – the vegetable – resided. He stood in the doorway and looked at him, disgusted by what he saw.

There was nothing there – it was obvious, he thought. The man just stared, he couldn't even piss on his own. Poor Samantha did nothing but look after him – months and months of caring for someone who should have died long ago.

He took a step closer to the bed – almost frightened by the still, corpse-like body of the man. Jack, he thought, a simple name. He wondered what the man had been like. Although Samantha spent all her time looking after him, she didn't really speak about him. He knew she had cared for him – but that's about all. He must have been a good-looking man when he was well, thought Henry, but now he was gaunt and pale and so very dead looking.

Yes, it would be more merciful for all of them if he truly died. Samantha could have a life and this man could finally be at peace. It was a good thing he was doing – a good and honorable thing. There would be no pain and the man could sleep, forever.

He'd thought about how he would do it. It had to be some way that would leave no marks, no telltale signs of violence. If it looked like he'd killed the man, Hannah would never forgive him and he'd lose his daughter all over again.

He took another step closer to the bed. The man still didn't move, didn't acknowledge him. See – that proved it – he was already dead, his body just didn't know it yet.

In the end he'd decided that the best way was poison. He had just the thing – and no one would ever know. He'd thought about suffocating him but didn't know if he had the strength. No – the best thing would be poison. He just had to add a bit to the jar that Samantha used to feed him. The poison would run through the tube into his stomach and he'd be dead in a matter of minutes. It could be a painful death – for someone who was conscious – but this man was already dead. He wouldn't feel a thing.

He stuck his hand – which was shaking terribly – into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. He looked at it for a few moments and then walked over to the bed. The stand with the jar was beside the bed – the tube running from it into Jack's nostril. She left it there most of the time – only taking it out to clean it occasionally. It was much easier to feed him this way, she'd explained, although it still bothered Henry. It just wasn't natural.

He slowly reached for the jar and took it down. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the cork out of the vial and held it over the jar. "It's better this way son", he said to the comatose man. He glanced down quickly and was disconcerted to see the man – Jack – staring at him.

No – it was just his usual stare. He wasn't – he couldn't be looking at him. He took another breath and dumped the poison into the jar. It would take a few seconds before it reached his stomach.

The unexpected sound made him drop the jar – which smashed on the floor. It also ended up pulling the tube part way out, although some of it remained in Jack. Henry looked down, to see the man looking at him, really looking at him. But he wasn't just looking – he was also making sounds.

He wasn't making any sense – no words were coming from his mouth – but he was consciously making noise, trying to communicate. With a cry Henry reached down and yanked the tube all the way out. God – had he done it in time or had some of the poison reached Jack's stomach? He knew all he could do was wait and see.

"I'm so sorry", he whispered. He couldn't take Jack's eyes looking at him – or the sounds coming from his throat – anymore. He turned and fled.

The man in the bed lay there, staring at the door. He again made the sounds, although they grew softer and softer until they faded out completely. All that could be heard was the sound of a lone bird, perched in the tree outside the window. The man's eyes turned to that window and he listened – he listened until his eyes closed, and he slept.