CHAPTER SIX: SHADOW OF STEEL
They made their way back to the Brotherhood at Cambridge Police Station eager to put distance between themselves and the Cabot House. It was barely 48 hours after having attempted to get there the first time, before they'd run into Super Mutant trouble, and yet in that short time so much had changed for them both.
Sam had let Jack do the talking to the Cabot's, choosing the safer option of saying nothing. She still thought it was a mistake to have buried, quite possibly destroyed, the artifact without so much as examining it but Jack was the one with the Ancient gene and a history of making bad alien object decisions, so she was trusting his gut on this one. She didn't trust her face to not let on that she wasn't happy, nor had she been all that thrilled about being back inside the Cabot house.
Edward's name came up of course. Jack informed Cabot briskly that the ghoul was dead and hadn't expanded beyond that. They didn't need to know he'd died saving her life and Jack didn't seem to want to paint him in any favourable light right now. The Doctor took the news about what was probably his oldest friend with a small nod, sad but resigned. It seemed that it was an end of an era of sorts for his life. Jack had asked the one question she'd raised in their otherwise silent walk back. 'What would happen to them without the serum?' According to Emogene, the only one of them to try and go without it for any period of time, they'd age. Rapidly. In a few months they'd look in their fifties. A few more; their seventies. Then that would be it she supposed. Time catching up to them. It was a death sentence but oddly they didn't seem all that bothered by it. Perhaps after 400 years and a nuclear holocaust they'd decided it was time.
It had given Sam enough to think about as she'd trudged through Cambridge, going the long 'safer' way round this time. She wasn't in the mood for another fire fight with whatever had undoubtedly set up in the Super Mutant's old spot that they'd worked so damn hard to clear, because that was the way it worked out here. Frankly, she was exhausted. She'd spent the last two days fighting for her life in one way or another. She just wanted to lie down on a bed with Jack's arms around her and not think about anything for a few hours. He hadn't pressed her to talk, for which she was eternally grateful, but then it wasn't Jack's style. Although they'd gotten infinitely better at sharing with each other it would never be his natural instinct to do feelings. However, she suspected this would be different. He'd give her some time for now but eventually they would have to talk about this, in particular why she hadn't confided in him. She knew that had to be particularly bothering him but then he understood 'need to know' and right then, if he had known, it would have just compromised the mission; that would be her answer when he finally asked. Jack had taken on the guilt of it, reasoning correctly she supposed that it had happened for his sake; she could see the anger and self-recrimination building but she was slightly too afraid to uncork that right now.
Danse was waiting for them when they finally made it in. He did a double take at Jack. "Woah General! Did you find a plastic surgeon out there?" he asked, examining Jack's dark hair and youthful features for a moment. Then his expression darkened and his gun raised to Jack's chest, "You've not been replaced by a Synth have you?" He was deadly serious Sam realised and she almost wanted to roll her eyes. Of course that would be the conclusion he'd come to.
She stepped in front of the gun and felt Jack's arm go around her bicep to try and shift her back … like hell! She hadn't gone through all this to have him shot by their new allies. "He's not a Synth. We hit a snag clearing out the Super Mutants from the construction site. Jack got hit. A Doctor patched him up, gave him some wonder drug … apparently it had a side effect and rejuvenated him." She shrugged it off as though it was nothing and Danse looked surprised.
"Oh really?" he asked sounding like he didn't believe a word. Jack sighed, stepping around her as he lifted his shirt to show off the damage.
"Really." he growled. "Got myself gutted just for fun too." Jack displayed the evidence of his brush with death and Danse took that in, looking between them as if noticing for the first time how tired they both looked. Danse grunted and holstered his weapon. "You realise there will be a full medical evaluation once the Prydwen arrives. I suggest that if it's likely to find something it shouldn't that you not join us." he added somewhat pointedly, looking between them. That was interesting. It sounded suspiciously like he wasn't entirely convinced of their 'human' status and was giving them an out. Sam noted that and smiled thinly.
"Thank you Paladin but that won't be necessary. Trust me, after this little field trip we're more than happy to be up in the air for a while." Sam replied as Jack busied himself tucking his shirt back in. Although she thought she might be speaking for the both of them, she got the feeling that Jack was having some serious second thoughts about joining the Brotherhood and putting them on the frontline again. She'd suspect it was just a knee-jerk reaction to his recent brush with death except Jack didn't tend to react that way. No, she thought this might have more to do with what was happening to her than him.
"So you really clear out the whole nest?" Danse asked drawing her attention back to him; apparently the rejuvenating drug was less impressive than that particular feat. She didn't disagree; that damn camp had nearly taken out Danse's team and them. At least it wouldn't be threatening anyone else now.
Sam nodded but Jack was faster, grinning. "Yep. They lined up nice and neat for us and went down like lemmings." Jack winced, "Well until this little mishap." he added patting his chest.
"Nice job." Danse added sincerely, "I'll let you tell Rhys." He smirked at Sam and she nodded, going off to do just that as she heard Jack start to give him the grim news about what they'd discovered of Recon Team Artemis before all this had happened.
Rhys was lurking. He gave her a nod as she approached and she tried not to feel filthy; to feel exactly like the whore he'd accused her of being before she went out there.
"Surprised you came back. Thought the two of you had decided the Brotherhood of Steel was too much like hard work and cut out on your Initiations." he accused, inclining his head to take her in and she merely stood there glaring back at him arms crossed. Next to Edward's coal black eyes boring into her, this assessment of her barely skimmed. So there was that; at least she could trust he wasn't the slightest bit interested in her in that way. It was a strange relief actually; to know someone just disliked you and you didn't have to put on airs and graces.
"Oh don't worry Knight. My pretty face will be around a while longer." She gave him a shit eating grin, deliberately making a dig about his barbaric suggestion to 'mark herself up'. Rhys eyed her unblemished skin and shrugged with a nod accepting that, as if she was a fool not to heed his words.
"I see instead of taking my advice he made himself prettier." he indicated his thumb back to where Jack was; clearly he'd seen the face-lift too. Sam didn't take her eyes off Rhys.
"Oh he was plenty pretty before." Sam reminded and Rhys rolled his eyes but he wasn't leaving. Sam was waiting for it, almost wanting an excuse to hit him again she thought, realising why her adrenalin was spiking.
"You should see his scar though." she replied adding a touch of sensuality to her voice as she ran her hand across his chest provocatively, tracing the imaginary wound that was now Jack's and getting a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing it was that hand. He glanced down at her hand and continued to glare at her until she removed it. Sam cocked an eyebrow at him and glanced down at his crotch … her warning clear; she'd hit him there again if he started down that line. He discreetly moved his knee in the way but his expression shifted slightly as though the tension had released a little. Rhys was a man that seemed to respond to threats and insults and not much else but she could work with that. Clearly he'd heard what they had reported back to Danse though; she knew he'd been listening and she was damn well going to make him say it.
"So, you took out the Super Mutant's on the scaffolds." he stated flatly, rubbing his hand across his knuckle as if contemplating the feat. There was a pregnant pause as they stared each other down and he sniffed. "You two are nuts, you know that right? Going out there against a Super Mutant stronghold alone." He shook his head, his chin lifted to her and there was a slight softening in his tone. "But I'll admit, that's some good work." Sam smiled thinly. She needed this asshole on side; rumours spread fast and she didn't need any more. What Danse had said about the blood test was already giving her pause. Her blood wasn't normal after all. Not since Jolinar.
"You were right. They were dug in tight and with that vantage point it wasn't easy." she admitted, conceding that. "I'm surprised any of you made it back alive if they'd ambushed you." She took a breath, "We barely made it out alive … Jack, well, he probably should have died and we had the drop on them." The words were a catharsis of sorts. She rushed through them trying not to show how effected she was, relying on her irritation and anger with this asshole to get her through it, even as she hoped to engender a little compassion. She got nothing back. Rhys was as immovable as granite. Sam got the impression she could have been stood there with tears streaming and he'd have been about as affected as he was now. Clearly he didn't do 'feelings' either.
"So, you two are apparently useful and at least we know now that you can hold your own. Either way Paladin Danse has vouched for you. That's enough for me. He says you're okay. You're okay." he admitted finally with a noncommittal shrug, then raised his index finger to point sharply at her, his voice dropping an octave as he all but growled the next, "But I don't have to like it. Or you." He bit out, his eyes flashing with suppressed rage. Oh he'd tolerate her because he had to but he wouldn't trust her… noted. "How about from now on, you do your thing and I'll do mine and we don't have any more of these little chats!" he snarled bearing his teeth.
"Sounds perfect." Sam replied, meaning that.
"Fair warning. You fuck up or betray the Brotherhood, Sister …" he looked her dead in the eye, "I'll be first in line for your firing squad."
Sam wasn't the least bit intimidated. Actually she suspected this might be progress. Bluster and threats meant she was actually worth the time to make them in his eyes. Oh, she'd known enough soldiers like this in her time. "Likewise." She gave him a mock salute. "Brother." she snapped out with a shit eating grin and turned on her heel to stalk away, leaving him there to brood or whatever the hell else it was he did.
Rhys had been easier to placate than Jack. She'd spent the rest of the evening getting stuck into helping secure the location before the Prydwen arrived first thing. It had given her plenty of opportunities to avoid him and keep her mind occupied. Haylen had wanted to talk about the missing team and Danse's HUDs for his helmet armour had gone on the fritz again so she spent some time on it. He'd be introducing them to the rest of the Brotherhood tomorrow when the Prydwen arrived and she wanted it to show off. There was a Proctor Ingram who Danse was keen for her to meet. Apparently, she'd lost her legs in a skirmish and was now permanently encased in a suit that gave her pretty much 100% functionality as a solider. She was their tech guru. Danse thought they'd get along; Sam thought it sounded like they would too.
Jack appeared as she was wrestling with a couple of bolts. He leant against the Power Armor station and crossed his arms. "You done avoiding me yet?"
"No." she responded without looking up, not seeing the need to pretend with him. "Go to bed. You need to rest. You just spent two days at Death's door." she added with a quiet command, hoping he'd leave it alone for now because she really wasn't in the mood.
"Feeling fit as a fiddle." he deflected. Sam didn't doubt that; he'd never looked better nor run faster as they'd fled the bomb site but that didn't mean he was okay emotionally. She imagined that almost dying again must have taken a toll. She didn't want to think what a complete body image change might have done to his psyche, particularly given as it was out of his own control. She wasn't so sure she'd have been okay with him giving her a 'youth' serum whilst she was unconscious. Granted it was to save his life and she likewise would have accepted the consequence but she could imagine it giving her pause. He squatted down into her eyeline as if to demonstrate his perfectly fine knees. "Besides we're due a chat." he told her firmly.
"There's nothing to talk about." she evaded.
"Don't do that." he chastised; she sighed, feeling his fingers gently against her lower back. A gesture of support that Sam didn't feel like she deserved. She stood, sliding out of his touch.
"I'm fine. I just don't want to talk about it." she confessed, as she stowed away the spanner in the toolbox and wiped grease onto a rag from her hands; not inviting further discussion. What she really wanted was to box the whole thing away and not have to bother with it again, which would be difficult given his new face, and the scar on his chest, would be a near constant reminder of what had happened … of what she'd had to do. The thought was dangerous so she pushed it away for now, which was easier when his heat was suddenly behind her; his lips brushed her neck and she stiffened closing her eyes and taking a breath to calm the sudden pounding in her chest and roar in her ears as blood rushed to her extremities. Fight or flight. She'd been conditioned to resist it but right now her every instinct was screaming at her to attempt at least one. She couldn't let this affect her, let it affect them. She'd waited too damn long for there to even be a 'them'.
Jack must have realised his effect because he hastily backed away; she reached back and gripped his wrist, stopping him. "Don't … please don't back off because I tense up." she pleaded. "It's just a reaction. It'll pass." She curled her fingers around his wrist and tugged him gently behind her, feeling the warmth and strength of his body as she gently placed his arm around her waist. "It has to pass. I don't want to react to you like that." she admitted quietly, feeling mortified that she did, even though she knew it was a perfectly reasonable response. Not that reason had anything to do with it.
"I'm not sure it's something you get to control like that." he replied finally, staying utterly still behind her. "Like you said, it's a reaction, instinct." His fingers curled lightly around her waist, testing; she slid hers into his and held him there, stepping more firmly back into his chest. "You know I'd never hurt you and believe it or not I can be a patient man when its important." he promised and God! did she know that. She closed her eyes and took in a shaking breath.
"I know." she admitted, letting a hint of her fondness for that trait into her voice as his breath tickled her neck. Sam bent her head, tilting her neck in offering. His lips brushed the skin behind her ear and she shuddered; the sensation travelling down her spine and straight into him. She stiffened and fought the urge to pull away; Jack's touch set off a very particular series of unpleasant sense memories that were entirely in her head.
"Tell me." he rasped and she bit her lip. As always, there was an entire conversation in those two words between them; he could read her like a book. She wondered sometimes why she ever bothered to try and keep things from him. It had been easier when they didn't used to spend every waking hour together and had work as a distraction.
"It was your lips … on my skin." she admitted uneasily. God, she felt like a shrinking violet. It shouldn't affect her like this.
He stiffened and she glanced back at him behind her, catching a flash of something dark shadowing his face. "I thought you said he didn't touch you?"
Crap. She stared up into his eyes which were intent on her, cautious. He was expecting her to lie or at least shut him out. "You're imagining the worst." She shook her head; of course he was, why wouldn't he?
"I'm trying not to imagine anything." Jack replied darkly. "I don't …" he trailed off, clearly at a loss as to how to broach this. "I'm starting to think his death was too good for him." he replied in a cold flat tone that spoke of a great deal more than just anger.
"He died a hero, saving my life." Sam replied, deciding that if Jack was fine without mentioning that bastard's name again, so was she. But the urge to talk and to share something rose and she bit her lip. Trust Jack to broach the topic in a way that might provoke a response. "You know, for a moment I regretted that he'd saved my life," she admitted quietly; the thought she hadn't wanted to dwell on. It was Jack's turn to go quietly still.
"Not like that." She turned around, reaching out to touch his cheek, "I don't have a death wish Jack." she promised him, knowing how she sounded. "But, in that split second as I realised what had happened and looked down at his body … it felt like he'd won. Like now I had to forgive him, like I had to feel grateful even." Sam hissed finally, putting her finger on the bile that had been circling inside of her since that moment. She didn't especially want to feel this let alone confess it but sometimes she was convinced Jack knew her better than she knew herself; he probably already knew.
Jack put the slightest of pressure on her hip and she followed his unspoken request to move closer to him and dropped her hand to his chest, keeping her eyes levelled there. "I get that." he confided and she nodded, not surprised. "I've died a lot. Not as much as Daniel mind, but …" he admitted trailing off with a head shake; his expression turning serious. "I've also been saved from near death by my enemies too." Sam lifted her head and stared into his dark eyes as they bore down on her, inviting her into the deep dark there inside his head.
"And this time I'm not talking about Ba'al." he grimaced. She schooled her face, not wanting to react; that would always be a touchy subject between them because of her guilt and his PTSD, not that he'd ever call it that. "I was in Russia." he replied flatly his eyes almost black; so another dark memory then. She wondered how many foul things he held in his head and how it was he didn't just crumble. Or, maybe it was as she'd long suspected; why he was such an irreverent ass all the time and why he didn't like to let his mind wander. Distraction had always been his way.
"I got pinned down. Me and this Russian. We were both trapped by our own sides bombing the shit out the place. We scrambled for cover and ended up pretty much crammed together in this little concrete fox hole. We had half a gun on each other, half a gun on outside trying to help our teammates, trying to stay alive I guess." he admitted, sounding like he wasn't convinced. "Then a grenade landed between us. We both went for it. He got his hand around it and chucked it back out, saved us both. And you know what? … in that moment we were just two people surviving. We had an unspoken truce. We had bigger problems than each other." He sighed and she saw the faraway look in his eye as he delved back into memories best left forgotten. "Bombing stopped. We both stumbled out into the wreckage and made our way back to our own sides." he continued. "Next day, he was the guy down my scope and I didn't hesitate." Jack finished giving her a resigned look, like he expected her to think less of him. She wondered how many people he'd told that story too and what their reaction would have been; if he'd ever tried to tell Sara. Perhaps it was her own self depreciation talking but she often wondered if she lived up to his ex-wife, his uncomplicated, unscarred love of his life and the mother of his son. He'd told her before that he felt able to tell her things he'd never told Sara but maybe that was because his wife had been too precious for him to burden with. Would he think less of her if he knew everything that happened, what she'd done? She wasn't sure she wanted to fall any further off that pedestal he'd perhaps foolishly put her on.
For now, Sam tried not to show her surprise at the way that story had gone down, knowing she shouldn't be, that was exactly the Jack O'Neill she knew, uncompromising in his duty. "He was your enemy. Even if he saved your life, it didn't stop him being your enemy." she concluded, knowing he was trying to help make her feel less alone in her feelings on this.
Jack shrugged. "I'm a simple guy, makes it easier not to think the big thoughts but yeah, essentially. Your enemy saved your life. More's the fool him. You did your job, you survived. Whatever it took." Jack replied, spoken like a true soldier.
Sam let out a dark laugh. "Ah. That simple huh?" She didn't mean to sound quite so bitter but it came out anyway, especially not when he was sharing something intensely personal with her.
Jack reached up and caught her chin. "I said I was a simple guy, not that it was a simple thing to do." He brushed his thumb across her cheek and crowded in closer to her. "I want to talk about what happened. About your not so simple thing." he insisted gently, though his eyes were blazing with intensity; set in a face almost painfully, wonderfully young on him. He wouldn't or couldn't let it go she realised. Which, if she was honest with herself, she'd feared would happen from the moment Lorenzo had opened his damn mouth.
"Please." he asked her gently.
"Jack O'Neill saying please … wow." she sighed, "Charm offensive." They both knew she was deflecting but he allowed her it for a few more moments. His gentle but insistent presence reminding her that he wasn't going anywhere. Nor was this issue. Not until they'd talked about it; out here they didn't have the luxury of time to dwell.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked quietly.
"I don't." he bit out too quickly and winced as she shot her eyebrow up at him disbelievingly. "It'll help you to talk about it, that's what they say right?"
"Liar." she confronted.
He blew out an exasperated breath, closing his eyes and looking down somewhere at their feet. "Yeah, okay, maybe. I … I think I need to know." he admitted finally, his eyes raising to hers. "I've got so much dark in my head, I don't … I don't want to leave it to my imagination." he confessed and she pursed her lips together; it was honest at least. She could understand that but she just wasn't sure she'd want to know; it's easier to wall off if she didn't know all the facts, like it wasn't real somehow. But he was her husband, and he was asking her to tell him.
"There's not much to tell." she confessed quietly. "Lorenzo really was lying." she added. "Ed…" She bit her lip, not wanting to say his name. "He wanted to watch me in the shower." she shrugged, feeling her throat tighten around the words. It sounded so innocuous - a little voyeurism, yet it made her insides twist and her skin crawl at the thought.
"And?" he asked gently, after the silence stretched between them and she bristled.
"And … he wanted me to touch myself. That's it!" she snapped. "He sat in that damn chair whilst I touched myself in the shower and he watched!" she added bitterly, getting angry suddenly at Jack for making her say it. She took a breath and shuddered at the memories it invoked, before closing her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself; that self-loathing flared again.
"God, I'm pathetic." she muttered. Jack's grip on her waist tightened for a moment in response and she suspected he wanted to argue that but didn't, letting her say her piece. She didn't mention to him that the feel of the poor dead asshole's tongue on the skin of her hand lingered. How would that help?
"It's not like he raped me Jack." she all but sneered the word, "It was nothing. I don't even know why I'm upset." she argued. "I had worse from Turgen. He really did assault me and beat me with his damn whip." she snapped, wondering why it was when that Warlord had forced his mouth over hers and manhandled every inch of her, stripping her out of her clothes to whip her, and told her in excruciating detail what he was going to do to her that night; that somehow hadn't lingered with her. Not like this. But then she'd known quite clearly what Turgen was and what he wanted. She'd been a solider in that moment, a prisoner of war; her fate not her own, survival had been the goal.
Not that she hadn't gone back to her house and sobbed into Janet's arms and a bottle of wine. Janet had sworn she wouldn't tell the team exactly what that asshole had done before they'd rode in like the cavalry. General Hammond had known, that was enough. With the Colonel's report recommending caution with female personnel and 'uncivilised' populations, he wasn't about to make the same mistake of leaving her behind anywhere again. He'd been brutally honest about his failings in that report, having failed in his duty to secure his 2IC whilst the team enjoyed a 'party'. Hammond had let her read that on finding out what had actually taken place. Together they had decided that Jack wouldn't have responded well given his still somewhat tentative decision to continue with the SGC program at that time. A program that meant the world to her and which was already being threatened on only her second mission.
It was strange to think of it now; she'd actually been instructed to bury a sexual assault by a man she respected above any other, for the sake of a man she'd come to love more than any other. But at the time she'd done it to keep her team together, to keep her career alive and because honestly, it had been easier for her pride. But it was ancient history. The scars on her back had almost faded and she'd never once shuddered at Jack's touch on them, never blamed him for any of it. But then she'd really never seen it as his fault. This was different. This had been 'for' Jack.
He was shaking his head now, drawing her back into this damn conversation and out of her darker memories as his hands slid around her face to cup her cheeks. He was still, waiting until she let him tilt her head up to look directly at him. She stared back, willing him to believe she was fine.
"Don't you ever say that." he told her firmly with real anger there catching in his voice. "There is nothing pathetic about you, you hear me!" he growled, before swiping away the tears that had begun to fall from her cheeks; she could almost believe it when he said it. "That bastard ghoul on the other hand … oh I have a few choice words about." he sneered. "But let's be clear. Whether you want to admit it or not, what happened wasn't nothing. He assaulted you for crying out loud." Sam felt her lip tremble and his eyes softened a fraction but he didn't stop. "You were desperate and vulnerable and he took advantage of that. And, to make it worse, you had to play nice with him after … for me." Jack told her frankly. She swallowed, feeling tears sting her eyes which she hastily blinked away this time rather than let them fall.
He was staring at her and she knew he was waiting for more, waiting for the reason his lips set off a reaction. "But I need to know Sam. At what point did his looking become touching?" The words were insidious. She wrapped her arms around her waist, inside of Jack's, wishing she didn't feel so damn 'filthy' having to explain. She squirmed and he stroked her arm. "Tell me. You don't want to let things like this fester inside you." he warned; she supposed he'd know.
It was the not knowing that was killing him. It would have been fine if Lorenzo hadn't gone and put ideas and images in his head. Told him half-truths and flat out lies. He clearly wasn't able to simply pack it away and it wasn't like she could just take a little R&R time to process. It was hell all the time out here.
"Sam, we made a promise. Out here, we're all each other has. I said I'd be here for you in everything but I can only do that if you let me in." he softly pleaded, his voice breaking over the words. Sam tried not to react to his clear distress with her own. "You need some sort of closure because tomorrow we're joining the damn Army! God knows when you'll get the chance or what might set this kind of trauma off again."
"Oh for crying out loud!" she snapped, stealing his line. "It's not trauma Jack. It was just a sad, pathetic little rotten old man, with no dick, trying to get his rocks off and I let him!" she threw at him with a screech that sounded broken even to her own ears. She whipped her hand up to her mouth, stopping more words or sounds escaping as emotions threatened to bubble out; she feared she might throw up. She clutched at Jack's offered hand and dropped her head to his chest as he stroked his fingers across the back of her neck soothingly.
"Oh God!" she gasped, realising her whole body was shaking. She felt the wave of emotion all but reduce her to series of incoherent sobs as she sagged against his chest. She didn't want to lie to him. Maybe he was right. Maybe it would be better just to confess all, to actually say it out loud. Because he was right, somehow this was worse than Turgen. Worse even than the memories she held from Jolinar and everything she'd been forced to do with Binar. Hell, it was even worse than Fifth and his sick little fantasies. At least he'd only kissed her and tried to keep her. He'd never made her feel degraded and filthy like this. Never made her flinch at the touch of the man she loved, although that wasn't quite true she admitted to herself. She had felt damn uncomfortable around Pete for weeks after. That sick little smile. She'd never realised that Fifth had stolen it right from her head and her memories of Pete until he kept wearing it. Maybe she was due a breakdown over all the ways she'd been abused through the years by men that wanted something from her. She didn't even want to touch Jonas and that complete fuck up that had her agreeing to marry him.
She raised her hand, 'that' hand, and stared at it for a moment. Jack reached out and wrapped his fingers around it. "He touch you here?" he asked gently, trying to save her having to say it.
Sam nodded uneasily as he traced the outline of her fingertips. "After I … after I touched myself …" she trailed off unable to finish the sentence. How could she tell him she let herself come like that? It shouldn't be this hard to talk about, she'd been through worse. So why couldn't she just say it? Jack's expression was impossibly tender and she wondered for a moment how he could stand to touch her there.
"What did he do with your hand Sam?" he asked and she shuddered, closing her eyes and burying her head in his chest again, the comforting smell of Jack and engine grease surrounding her. This was her happy place she realised, in his arms, and somehow that asshole had managed to break that.
"He wanted to …" she swallowed thickly, but it was all she could get out as the words died in her throat and her cheeks flamed with shame. Sam felt Jack nod and thread his fingers of his other hand loosely through her hair, holding her close as his other hand caressed her contaminated one.
"He wanted to taste you." Jack sighed, sounding resigned to it, clearly having not forgotten a word of Lorenzo's bile. He lifted her hand and she panicked; he drew it closer to his lips and she tried not to pull it away from him.
"Stop, don't!" she gasped, her fingers clenching around his. She knew what he was trying to do but she didn't think she could do it. Their eyes locked.
"I came like that." The words slipped out and she blinked, feeling tears splash her cheeks as she looked away from his face; hating the calm understanding he was levelling at her. "How can you look at me like that?" she hissed, "Don't you understand what I did. I let myself … I should have stopped it. It's sick!" The confession was tinged with as much self-loathing as she could pack into it. She wanted him to understand that it hadn't been what she wanted. She hadn't had a choice… not really. Sam shook her head; she'd made a complete mess of this.
"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly. She glanced between the hand he was still clasping in his, inches from his lips, and his earnest brown eyes. She nodded firmly. More than she trusted herself.
"It's your hand Sam. I love it as much today as I ever have. You know I love every inch of you. Always." he told her and she felt a wave of relief and fear colliding powerfully inside of her. She trusted him but she wasn't sure she was ready for this. "Let me show you." he insisted keeping their joined hands utterly still, just waiting whilst her blood seem to be roaring in her ears. She kept her eyes fixed on his and on that changed face. It was like looking at a stranger in so many ways but his eyes, they were the same deep dark pools they had always been. "Okay."
His lips pressed to the back of her knuckles and she let out a sob, her hand trembling. But Jack didn't retreat, he just slowly and surely pressed kisses to every inch of it until she felt her heart rate start to come down and her grip lessened on his. She slid her palm against his cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss there. Relief crashed through her; they could work through this … they could, she convinced herself.
"Thank you." she whispered, smiling and knowing she probably looked a state; her eyes red and raw from her tears, her lip a mess from the bite she'd given it and her pupils blown. But he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. It was enough to make her believe that maybe what she'd done hadn't changed the way he felt about her. The tension eased out of her frame and she reached up and pulled him flush against her, just wanting to feel all of him, every alive inch.
"I think I felt a little sorry for him, even as he disgusted me." she admitted quietly when she felt her voice was strong enough not to crack, "He could have asked anything." She turned her head to look pointedly at him. Slowly, a little hesitantly she lifted up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, just to be certain he wouldn't retreat now, knowing what she'd done. He pressed back featherlight and she sighed, dropping his gaze, not certain she could say it looking at him like that. "I realised I'd have done so much worse. I'd have done anything he asked Jack … anything. I couldn't lose you." She felt a sob catch in her throat and his arms wrapped around her.
"Terrifying, isn't it?" he rumbled, pressing a kiss to her throat. "To know that your whole world is someone else and they can just be taken from you, in an instant." She nodded, knowing he knew from bitter painful experience exactly how that felt. For once she truly felt an inkling of his state of mind after losing his son, of the darkness that might have taken route there. She marvelled again at the fact that he was still alive, still getting up in the morning, still letting himself love someone again.
"In some weird fucked up way I was relieved that he hadn't asked for more. Like that somehow made him better." She shook her head, fighting tears. "God, it sounds so screwed up but I wasn't thinking clearly." She struggled with the words; she wanted him to understand what she'd done, confess since he knew the rest. "I imagined you, imagined your hands. I came like that … staring at him through the glass. I let him see a glimpse of what it was like to be with me, by imagining it was you." she whispered her voice breaking over the words but it was out now at least. She wanted to ask if he would forgive that but she didn't think that was a fair question. She wanted him to forget it, forget she'd ever told him.
"You know you have nothing to feel guilty about or ashamed of." Jack told her without a hint of recrimination in his voice, wanting to understand, to help her if he could. She knew his own guilt must be crippling him; could see it growing and tearing him apart even as he painstakingly tried to re-build her. What a pair they made right now.
"It should have been a deal. Business, nothing more. We had a deal. I … I made it personal by letting him see me – all of me, like that." She shook her head, owning her own guilt for how it had ended up. "He was … fascinated, or something."
She struggled to put into words the emotions she'd seen in that damn ghoul's dying eyes; she closed her eyes trying to shut out the images. "He threw himself in front of a hail of bullets for me Jack!" she admitted darkly.
"Well that's not exactly a shocker Sam. He wouldn't be the first man to become more than a little obsessed by you." Jack muttered. "Present company included." he admitted quietly and Sam nodded, accepting that rather unpleasant truth about herself from bitter experience. After all, Jonas had been fixated on her from his first look at her on the parade square back when she was a naïve cadet and he was putting her through her paces. Then there was Orlin; he'd watched and de-ascended for her and all but moved in without her permission. Fifth had flat out kidnapped her. She'd skirted the idea of Pete being in that category for a while now. A few months before they'd got stuck here, Daniel had rather bluntly informed her that Pete had run a background check on her; plus the way he'd turned up to get himself shot. "Stalker" Daniel had muttered but back then she hadn't been sure how much of his dislike of Pete was out of solidarity with Jack, who she now knew had been in turmoil watching her with someone else. She also knew that the SGC had bets on how long Pete would survive 'femme fatale Carter'. Men had a tendency of dropping dead around her the minute they showed the slightest interest. But knowing that about any of the previous men in her life didn't help her with the guilt she felt about Edward.
"I manipulated him. I didn't mean to … at least I don't think I did." she admitted clutching Jack's upper arms for support. "He might have seen my vulnerability but I saw his desperation too. I used that. At first, to keep you alive, a sort of favour for a favour." she confessed knowing that Jack wouldn't judge her for that; it was what he'd have done. "But after, I didn't rip his God damn head off in case …" she trailed off. Jack wouldn't appreciate her finishing that sentence and she didn't want to think about it.
As always, Jack could read her just fine, particularly in her darker moments. "In case I died and you needed an escape plan." he completed her thought. "Smart. But then you've always been that too."
"I don't like who I'm becoming out here." she admitted, pressing her hand to his chest and tracing the scar once more through his shirt. "Like this scar. I did it again didn't I? You were dying and I forced them to give you some miracle serum. Even when I knew they were all kinds of wrong. I took your choice away and it's changed you, again." It was an old guilt and an old wound she knew better than to pick at, especially when she was feeling so fragile. But she owed him the truth about what was screwing with her head.
Jack sighed, clearly resigned to this topic, his expression pinched. "Sam. For crying out loud! You saved my life. And if you're thinking of dredging up that Tok'Ra crap, this isn't that. As I've reminded you before …" He leant in, their noses almost brushing, "… I agreed to that little bastard going in my head." he growled, dredging up his own deep dark again for her. "Somehow, I think getting back a good two decades of my life is a fair trade off versus becoming a damn host!" he added, as if that decided it; what she did was okay because the outcome was favourable, this time.
"But I took that decision from you!" she pointed out, needing him to understand and not just give her a blanket apology if he really was harbouring doubts that might fester too. "You want to talk about rape Jack …?" she winced at the word and the connotations she'd never liked when thinking about how the Goa'uld 'invaded' and manipulated your body against your will, "You never consented to this and I changed your whole body." she reminded him, deciding to spell it and her fears out. Surely he had to have some disquiet about that.
"So?" he shrugged and she believed him in that moment. It really didn't bother him. Her confused expression must have spoken for her because he took in a long sigh, as if having to explain his thought process on this was wholly unnecessary.
"Sam. You've been my 2IC for close to a decade and now you're my wife. Hell, if we had legal papers or you know, lawyers left, I'd give you power of attorney. I trust you to make the right decisions for both of us when it comes down to it." He stroked her hair behind her ear and smiled gently down at her. Once more, she wondered at how he could be so tender and trusting with her having seen and done all he had.
"You want me to tell you, you made the right call …" he realised at the pained expression on her face. Jack leant in and kissed her on the forehead, his lips lingering. She found it didn't bother her at all; all she could feel in that touch was his love.
"You made the right call for me. But a lousy one for you." he admitted finally. "And yeah, I'm pissed. But not because you stuck me with that stuff. I'm pissed because you had to trade yourself for me. I'm not worth that." he insisted. Her eyes narrowed a fraction in response, anger flaring; she hated when he dismissed his worth compared to her. It was that damn 'Za'tark' thing again … 'her brain's worth a lot more than mine'. No-one had been convinced by that argument then but no-one argued with Jack O'Neill when he'd decided to do something suicidal. Seeing her expression, his grew nervous. He ran a hand up through his hair, his eyes darting around the room.
"Since we're you know, feeling feelings." he grimaced with a ghost of a smile that failed to muster. "I gotta admit, I'm little worried that you're always going to see … well all that crap, when you look at me now with this damn face." He turned his head away but she caught the positively wretched look on his face. His features twisted and she realised that he was as close to breaking down on her as she'd ever seen him.
Sam surged up, catching his face. His wonderful, young, but suddenly careworn face; a face that meant he was alive and that she hadn't done this for nothing. He was wrong. He had to be and so was she when she'd had the same dark split second thought earlier. She couldn't let herself think that - it would break them. The reality of his anguish at the very idea was enough to make her desperate to banish it from him too. "Don't. Don't ever think that." She pressed a desperate kiss to his lips, lifting up on her toes to reach him. She didn't want him thinking that, not even for a moment but he didn't seem convinced; his distraction evident in his half kiss. Sam pulled back, realising it would take more to convince him when he'd got an idea like this stuck in his damn head.
"Jack, you could think that about half a dozen scars on your body that are probably my fault or might remind me of something awful." she reassured, but even as she thought it she knew he possessed one scar, on his soft palette, that she'd never been able to get over. Kanan.
"I see you, not them … not this." she told him, stroking the face that gave him such concern, his latest 'scar', before touching the actual one across his chest. If anything, that one gave her more feelings of guilt because she had put him in the position where he had to look out for her first. Jack's expression darkened as she dismissed his fear and she thought it finally hit him that this 'chat' wasn't just about what had happened to her. That this was also about him processing what had happened to him; he had nearly died, again. Jack reached up and gripped her hands, removing them from his face as if he didn't want her to touch him there and she frowned; her eyebrow cocking a moment in warning. Sam felt a flash of anger redirecting onto him for a moment. He was being ridiculous and bull headed about this.
"Is that what you see when you look at the scars on my body? A litany of failures to protect me." she asked sharply and he lowered his chin. Sam realised with faint horror that was exactly what he saw. Of course Jack O'Neill, the great protector, would think that.
"I'm going to get hurt for you Jack." Sam snapped, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at her properly. His eyes were so shuttered that she wondered if she was reaching him at all. "That's just a fact of life when you throw yourself in the way to save someone you love." she reminded, trying to draw him out.
"So stop throwing yourself in the way." he hissed but his expression looked drawn and resigned. He knew it was a losing argument if it was even an argument at all. They'd never stop trying to save each other and feeling wretched about every lump and bump on the other's behalf. A map of their somewhat foolish decision to fall in love on the front lines of an intergalactic war ... or in the middle of an apocalypse.
Her lips curved into a smile as she saw the realisation settle over him and he nodded at the ridiculousness of that sentiment. "Ditto." she replied softly, reaching up to stroke his smooth and freshly shaven chin which fully displayed the effect of the serum. It was really quite incredible. Just looking at him now, healthy and whole, with so much potential again and so much life to live, even out here. When she looked into that face now, that's what she'd feel, hope. He would be her reminder now that something beautiful could come out of this. She let the idea settle inside of her as she mentally willed it into the shape she wanted. Jack had always been hope in her eyes.
"God, you are so wrong about what seeing you like this makes me feel …" she pressed a kiss to his tense jaw, "… and you are definitely worth it." she said forcefully. She hated when he put himself down like that, knowing that it tended to be his go to. If she'd only known years ago how self-depreciating he was behind all that bravado and the smart mouth, she'd probably have asked to marry him after that first damn briefing. But maybe that was just her damn 'fix-it' complex rearing its ugly head. Back then, you couldn't have gotten much more broken than Jack O'Neill. Just like Jonas had said, he'd practically been Sam-bait. She reached up, sliding her hands across his neck and up to cup the back of his head, drawing him down for a kiss that had nothing half-assed about it. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she thanked God that at least kissing Jack was still as perfect as it had always been. Nothing and no one could take away the bliss of his hot mouth over hers.
She pulled back to see if she'd had the impact she'd wanted on his frame of mind. Maybe it was his eyes or the slight hitch in his breathing as her fingers stroked behind his head to the base of his skull. He smouldered. There was no other word for it. She instinctively leaned in close, pressing herself against him.
"I had no idea you were so damn shallow Sam." he rasped teasing, "You always said the grey didn't bother you." Although he was clearly teasing she thought it might be masking a genuine insecurity; he'd been getting touchy about his age lately. Too many 'slips' he'd called it. Personally, she thought it had less to do with his age and more to do with this place.
"Don't pout. You know full well I've always found you gorgeous." she smiled back, tracing his chest for a moment, her hand hovering over the line of the scar she knew lay beneath his shirt and he smile slid off. She might not have had concerns about his face triggering anything but she wondered if she'd ever feel less guilty about that wound.
Jack slid his hand over hers, stilling her repetitive movement across his chest. "You realise that if had been you lying there on that table, I'd have done anything too." he admitted. She could feel the welling of emotion in him.
"I know." she sighed, "You do realise that probably makes us all kinds of screwed up." Sam pointed out, pressing a kiss to his cheek, letting him hold her close; lifting her feet off the ground to keep her there, locked in his embrace.
"We're in love. I'm sure there's a cliché in there somewhere about 'fools' and all that." Jack replied gruffly, burying his head in her hair, content to simply hold her. "You see … this is why we let those frat regs keep us apart all those years." he admitted, stroking her hair. "I told you, one day you'd realise that you should be royally pissed at me for not removing myself as your CO." Sam absorbed that quietly realising that there was an admission of guilt in there somewhere. He was confessing again to having been utterly compromised out in the field, which was terrifying and vindicating. At least she hadn't been alone in that. Granted it hadn't been her command but she'd still made decisions solely to keep Jack and her team safe. She wasn't sure it was possible to do the job they'd done and not form close attachments to each other. They'd saved the world … a lot. Hell, one or two near-death or actual death experiences in and she'd started to think of them as her family.
"I'm not mad." she told him honestly. "Like you said, the past is the past. We both did things that tested the chain of command to breaking. I don't care. It's gone now. Out here, we're all each other has. I just, I need you to know how far I'll go. Because it'll happen again. One of us will be put in a position that forces the other to be at risk. Again and again." She stroked his cheek pressing their foreheads together. "And I'm okay with that bargain. So long as we get to have this."
"Me too." he replied, pressing a trail of kisses down her jaw. "But … how about we stop taking unnecessary risks?" he growled. "Like taking out a horde of Super Mutants to stick it to some asshole who barely cared?"
Sam grimaced. Okay, so she could own that one and she was just grateful he wasn't holding it against her because she was holding it against herself. "Scouts honour." Sam lifted her fingers in the salute and he grabbed them, pressing their palms together and linking their fingers.
"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it, adrenalin junky." There was a spark. She felt it as her pulse quickened at the contact between them. The skin on skin and his proximity; the mist of guilt and love and pain swirling around them into a heady cocktail that had her drawing him down for a kiss that left her breathless and tingling. She held onto him as he slipped his hands to her waist, caressing and pressing them together in a way that sent an entirely different set of emotions coursing through her; tension coiled in the pit of her stomach, demanding release. She had no idea if this was a normal reaction to sexual assault or not. She'd known colleagues at the SGC that had been harassed and raped on duty. After Hathor had raped him for his genetic material, Daniel had confided in her then about his feelings and how he'd always been nervous around sexually aggressive women, even before Hathor's assault. But those were other people's reactions; she had to work with her own reactions and screwed up feelings. Right now, she just wanted to feel Jack. To be reminded that she was loved and that there was nothing to feel ashamed of. And that he was whole and wonderfully alive against her now.
But Jack was hesitating. For once he clearly wasn't picking up on her emotional state or he was uncertain of it at least; he pulled back a fraction. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. The cliché in that statement irking him clearly but still he asked, which she appreciated, even as she felt irritation building. She needed to do this. Delaying would only lead to more doubt and conflicted emotions. She couldn't let that happen, not between them.
"I mean, is this okay … now?" his hands traced her hips featherlight, as if scared he might trigger some reaction. Sam closed her eyes feeling the overwhelming sensation of him, his touch, his smell. There was nothing but them. She lifted one of his hands from around her waist, guiding it up until she'd slotted it firmly over her breast. She moaned softly at the contact and noted the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as though touching her was ecstasy.
"I still want you to touch me, if that's what you mean." She tugged his head down to hers and brushed their lips together with something like intent.
He pulled back again, brushing her cheek. "You weren't so certain when I came in here." he reminded her. "You realise you don't have to rush this?" he questioned, genuine concern putting new lines around his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." he added, as if she doubted it.
"I'm fine." she said, taking a deep breath and ignoring the cold sweat she felt starting in her palms; his clear unease fuelling her own and damping down the arousal that he'd sparked only moments ago. "I just don't want this to be an issue." she admitted honestly, terrified of that option. "Besides, you're my safe place." she deflected with a hum, her lips tracing a pattern of kisses to his throat and up behind his jaw. He stopped her with a gentle grip on her biceps peeling her off him. She was stunned; Jack O'Neill didn't, as a rule, pull away from her. This was three times now in the last minute, not that she was counting.
"You're not fine." he told her firmly. "But you're trying like hell to be and I get that. I really do. Believe me there is nothing I would like more right now than to take this further. But Sam, I can't let you do something you'll regret, or feel somehow forced into, because you've got it in your head that you have to be okay, right now." he sighed. "It's okay to be a mess for a while."
"Jack … I don't want to think about it, not anymore. I just want to put it behind me. So help me forget, okay? I want to feel something else. I want to feel you and us." Sam insisted, staring up earnestly at him as she tried to explain the strange mix of certainty and doubt in her mind. "I don't want that memory to be the thing circling in my damn head when I think about being touched." She tried to express to him the rising panic she felt in her chest. She needed this she realised; the sudden potential loss with his retreat making it very clear in her head that this was the answer. "Make me feel something else! Please Jack?!"
His eyes were dark and he closed them as she reached up to his face and caught his cheeks, pressing herself up to his lips. She didn't want to beg him again. Sam thought she'd probably used up all the emotional blackmail she was allowed in that last statement.
"Sam baby." he sighed, dropping his forehead against hers. "We've just established I'd do anything for you. But please, if you really think this is what you need, then you've got to be the one to take the first steps. I can't … I just can't." he admitted, the emotion raw in his voice as he barked out a cough, catching it in his hand and looking away for a moment, his fingers swiping at his eyes.
Her terms. That's what he meant. He was ceding control. Sam bit her lip and nodded. She reached down and curled her fingers around his. "I can do that." she murmured. Taking a deep breath she lifted his hand back up to her waist and slowly traced it down her inner thigh. Careful not to touch herself with her own hand, that she really didn't want to think about. But Jack's hands, his touch, were fine. She was certain his touch would wipe out any lingering memories and doubt. She slipped his hand between her legs and gasped as the sensation raced through her and she all but collapsed onto him her legs shaking and her body going rigid in horror. His other arm went around her, holding her up; his expression of shock and to her surprise, fear, increasing her own.
"Sam stop. You're not okay." he pleaded, sounding as broken as she felt.
"Jack please, he can't have broken this … us! I need you. I need this. Fix it … please!" she pleaded. He held her tightly as she broke down; wet desperate tears sliding free and splashing over her cheeks to mock her earlier insistence that she was fine. "Fix it … please." she sobbed feeling desperation curling her hand around the back of his head and clinging to him like he was the answer. Because she couldn't fix it. She didn't even know what was broken; machines were her forte, not this. It was like this gaping gnawing thing inside of her, nameless and sucking her in. Sam knew enough about panic attacks to realise that the pain in her every breath and the way her head was spinning signalled a panic attack. She thought she was okay. She wanted this, wanted it so badly and yet …
"Shhhh." he hummed against her ear. "It's okay, I've got you." he soothed. Jack leant in, his lips finding hers and silencing her gentle sobs. Her tears slipping over their lips until she could taste the salt gathering there. "Now isn't the time Sam. You're not ready and you're not okay. But we're not broken." he insisted, sliding his hands into her hair and holding her head against his chest, while she tried to take in one shuddering breath after another. "You just need time. We'll take it slow … okay? Right now, this is enough." he added and she nodded gently, numbly, her body feeling skittish and shaky as the adrenalin and arousal that had spiked slipped away. Leaving just her and a growing feeling of anger and, to her annoyance, shame, that somehow she'd failed him, failed 'them'.
"I'm …" she started to apologise and his mouth pressed featherlight over hers.
"Don't you dare say you're sorry." he told her darkly, correctly having anticipated what she'd been about to say. "This isn't on you and there is nothing wrong with us. We'll get through this like we do everything else, together." he promised as his fingers caressed her cheek and she sunk into another kiss, and another, letting the hot heat of his mouth and his gentle caress wash away anymore tears and doubts. He didn't care that she couldn't do this right now, it didn't matter to him; what mattered was her and she loved him desperately for it.
"I love you and I'm so sorry I nearly died on you." he rasped against her throat. Sam clutched his hair, holding him closer to her, not realising how badly she'd needed him to say that, to reaffirm it. But she didn't want to think about his near-death anymore and she didn't want him to take the guilt of this and what happened onto himself,. They'd made this fucked up bed together, they'd lie in it together.
"Shhh … I love you too Jack, always." she promised, "And we're both fine. You're right, tomorrow's a new day." she murmured against his ear, willing him to just let them put this behind them; willing herself to not do her usual trick of pushing too hard and too fast. Patience was a virtue out here … time to practice it.
"New day." he agreed, closing his eyes as they simply held one another; his pain and guilt an anchor for her own. After all, this had happened to them both she realised uneasily. What Edward had done to her, what she'd felt … Jack was right, she had flinched at his touch which meant that as much as it had been done to her, it was every bit his wound as well now, because despite what she wanted, it had come between them. She just hoped that the weight of it all didn't pull them both down in the end.
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The Prydwen arrived the next day as promised. A frankly enormous airship like some giant metal Zeppelin from World War II, only more advanced. Sam watched it drone overhead, blotting out the sky for a moment, with something like awe. She'd seen her fair share of impressive spaceships so she thought the bar was set quite high on this. Maybe it was just the refreshing sight of technology like this still existing out here. Her heart pounded with excitement. Jack was right, this was a new day and they were making the right call. This, of all places out here, was where they belonged. Even if they couldn't find what she needed to get home, at least this might be able to help them escape some of the hell on the ground.
A voice boomed out across the speakers above, impressively loud.
"People of the Commonwealth. We are the Brotherhood of Steel. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful."
Jack stared up at the sight above, his hand shading his eyes. He gave her a look as he stood close to her, giving silent support as their hips bumped. Jack held her all last night through a fitful sleep; she knew that he was still hurting but he was trying, for her. "A blimp … wasn't expecting that." he deadpanned. "Although, I gotta say that was some entrance." he acknowledged. Sam nodded but she could see the way his expression had tightened in anticipation as he stared up at the ship. She could tell his excitement was tinged with a healthy dose of apprehension.
"You can say that again." she replied, slipping her shades on as she continued to stare up into the bright morning sky.
"You sure about this?" he asked giving her time to back out or reconsider what, despite his assurances, he clearly still felt was a hare-brained plan.
"Yeah sure ya'betcha." she replied, offering him a tentative smile which he returned, clearly relieved that the some of the pain and desperation she'd felt last night had taken a back seat with the start of a new day. It helped that he had held her tenderly all night, just letting her know he was there and helping her feel less like some sort of leper for rejecting her own husband. He reached out subtly, his little finger touching hers. Jack had promised he'd keep touching; helping her acclimate he'd called it and she was relieved to see that he meant it. She wrapped her finger around his, feeling immensely grateful for his ability to pretty much ignore things that made him uncomfortable.
"Okay then." He leant in and nudged his hip against hers. "Honestly, I knew marriage was about compromise but I still can't believe you've convinced me to join the damn Army." Sam gave him a look and he held a hand up in defeat., "I'm just saying." He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'whipped' which made her grin.
The speaker blared the message out again and Sam watched as it circled overhead, clearly having identified their location and settling there.
"Here, take this." He handed her something wrapped in a cloth and she glanced down at it. "I know you wanted to make a gesture, show them our worth. Maybe you and the tech geeks up there can nerd-out over it." Sam hesitated, taking it from his hand and feeling the unmistakable grip of a gun handle. She removed the cloth and stared down at the strangest damn weapon she'd ever seen.
"What is it?" she asked staring up at him in surprise, wondering just where and when he'd gotten this.
"I had a little time schmoozing the Cabots before we left yesterday. Doc asked me if I wanted anything. A reward for, you know, saving their asses from Daddy Dearest." he shrugged. "So I might have picked the fancy looking ray gun on his lab bench. Apparently, it emits the same type of energy that Lorenzo's cage did. It was the only thing that worked on him."
Sam's eyes widened in surprise, apparently it was a day for good surprises. He was smirking at her, "Tell me again that I get you the best gifts?" he teased and Sam reached up and kissed him enthusiastically for a minute; at least that part of their relationship was blessedly unaffected. Although she noted that normally when they kissed his hands would sweep around her body or tug her in close. 'Time Sam' she chastised herself, 'He's giving you time' and gifts apparently. She stepped back and pulled the gun from his unresisting fingers.
"Oh, you definitely get me the best gifts." she murmured, even if half the time the gift was him. Sam kept that nugget of information to herself though. Her mind was running a mile a minute as she examined the thing. She hit a catch on the side and what looked like a deflector dish popped out. Sam examined the gun, running a quick diagnostic against her Pip-Boy, forgetting for a moment the Brotherhood blimp overhead in her eagerness. "Oh my God Jack! You realise what this might be?"
"Nope, not a clue, but your eyes are all shiny and cute, so I'm going with 'good'."
"It emits zeta radiation amongst other things." she declared, scanning it over with her Pip-Boy. "And somehow it manages to convert radiation energy into actual kinetic energy. I imagine on someone like Lorenzo it would have acted as some sort of neural destabiliser … based on the way he could impede alpha waves. My God, this … this is amazing!" She beamed up at him and he looked genuinely thrilled; his eyes softening as she pressed a kiss to his nose. Sam knew he didn't have a clue of the significance. "Jack, put it this way … I'd fancy my chances against Anubis' clone with this thing, or one of his Super-soldiers." she admitted, not that she thought there was much call for that out here but you never know. Although, she would have to refine the beam somewhat; the dish had a terrible design flaw, she considered critically.
"Sweet." Jack replied, and she looked up to see him grinning smugly to himself.
"Admit it, you totally enjoy spoiling me." She felt a grin creep onto her own face, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled at the corners before he put his own sunglasses on and peaked his cap out of habit, staring up at the vast airship that was coming to take them in.
"I can neither confirm or deny." he replied tartly and she snorted.
"You're keeping score aren't you?" she sighed, mildly exasperated but mostly teasing. Jack's eyes sparkled and his lips twitched in response. Of course he was keeping score of the damn gifts she realised with a roll of her eyes. Sam wondered if this gun and the Stealth Boy out did her Drinkin' Buddy bot and the band.
He ignored her exasperation. "So, now that you're all geeked out, shall we go officially enlist on the flying battleship-blimp of doom?" Jack pointed upwards, "Unless you want to stay here and thank me for that ray-gun some more". His lips curved and he was lowering his mouth to hers when they were both startled by the sound of a bird squawking inches from them. Sam turned taking in the raven that was staring at them fixedly. Jack growled, shooing at it.
"Damn birds. Why is it of all the birds that got to survive, it's those miserable bastards?" he muttered, "Talk about bad omens." he added, with a grimace as the black feathered bird flew off and landed further up the roof, still staring at them. Sam frowned, he had a point, she'd not seen any other birds but these damn ravens seemed to be everywhere and remarkably unmutated. Heavy armoured power boots behind them broke her train of thought and she turned to take in Danse, who was grinning up at the sky, clearly relieved to see their reinforcements.
"Amazing isn't it?" Danse indicated the vast ship above which was kind of hard to miss. "The cavalry's here." He stared up seeming to bask in the magnitude of the thing above them and Sam realised it was the most animated she'd seen him. "That thing is packed with enough munitions, supplies and troops to mount a major offensive here in the Commonwealth and get it back on track."
"I'll say." Jack replied, "That's got to be, what? … 200 feet long. At least." he added.
Danse nodded. "And about 40,000 tonnes of armoured battleship." He grinned at Jack, "She's got legs. I was expecting maybe a troop carrier, not the flagship herself. But if she's here then Elder Maxon's up there too … the Commander of the Eastern Chapter of the Brotherhood. If he's here, then that can only mean we're going to war Initiates."
"War?" Jack's eyebrows hit his forehead. "With whom?" he asked, a casual tone in his voice that Sam wasn't fooled by.
"The Wasteland, Initiate." Danse replied, "Pushing back the dark, just like you said." He patted Jack on the arm as he turned to leave, striding down the stairs to get his team prepped and ready to move out. Sam could hear him barking instructions at them down the stairwell. It reminded her far too much of her younger days back in the Academy and the squad Drill Sergeant trying to get them to muster up. Although that could just be because they'd both been demoted to Initiate. From the look on Jack's face she suspected the idea of going from General to Initiate in the space of a few days, just in time to be a grunt in another man's war, was probably not helping ease his concerns.
"See. Now I'm getting that 'bad feeling about this' vibe again …" he muttered and Sam rolled her eyes, carefully packing her new gun away and stowing her gear in her backpack as she moved out of the landing zone.
"You get a bad feeling when you roll out of bed most mornings out here." she reminded him fondly as he walked beside her, their arms brushing. Jack always liked contact between them and it seemed more important now than ever, to them both, to re-initiate it. Although, she wasn't certain which of them had moved to do it first which was comforting.
"I'm usually right." he retorted sounding weary. "This place is bad enough without stumbling into a warzone." he added, glancing up once more at the floating mass of apparent 'war-ship' above them.
"Actually, fairly sure we'd be above the warzone." Sam pointed up, joining his gaze. "Technically speaking."
He bumped her ribs with his elbow. "Don't get sassy Missy. I know I've already lost you to the shiny 'floating ship of future tech' in the sky." he groused, sensing a losing battle.
"Pretty much." she conceded, barely able to keep the damn skip out of her step. She was so excited to get up there, Initiate or not.
"Your nerd is showing Doctor-Captain!" he muttered and she winked at him, acknowledging the throwback.
"You like my sexy nerd ways. I distinctly recall you saying something like that." she teased, slipping into their easy banter in an attempt to soothe his slightly jagged nerves and the current tangle of emotions and feelings between them and inside her. But even she had to admit to having a moment's disquiet. War wasn't a word to throw around. Not to a solider like Jack, or her, but her mask seemed to be working because Jack gave her a very saucy look, his eyebrows going again as he responded to her harmless flirting. Banter and sexual innuendo; it was what they did best she smirked to herself.
"Sexy is for other people Samantha. You take nerdgasm to a whole other level." He winked at her and sauntered off casual as you like but she wasn't fooled. Jack was as keen as she was to see what else the Brotherhood had stored under the hood.
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End Notes: So I feel the need to put a note here, that not everyone responds to sexual assault in the same way, and this is a somewhat unusual environment our characters are finding themselves in. This is just my interpretation of how I think this particular character would deal with it, in this particular 'world within the world' I've built. Sam has never been shown to have the healthiest coping strategies for anything, and she's often picked frankly unhealthy relationships and men which speaks to a certain damage in her psyche 'her attraction to the lunatic fringe' – she pushes herself into work, at the expense of her own health and her go to is pretty much 'I'm fine'. I'm not suggesting it's the best or only method, it is however one I think that fits in this narrative for this particular character which is why its written like that here.