Broken 5 & 6
by Sharim
~5~
There was a small part of her, somewhere in the back of her mind, that was still uneasy. But she stamped down on it, ruthlessly, killing it and discarding it. She was stronger that the fear. She was stronger than what They had said she was.
She would be fine.
"Morning Sam." Once again, the regular routine.
"Morning Janet."
Janet blinked, looking at her.
A smugness rose within her. "What's for breakfast?" She asked.
"Toast... orange.... Sam?"
"Any spreads?" Sam asked, sitting up in the bed.
"What's going on?" Janet demanded, placing the tray deliberately out of read and turning to face the blond woman.
"What do you mean?" Sam eyed the tray. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she was quite enjoying the game.
"Yesterday morning..."
A shadow or fear, a brush of panic flitted over her, but again she squashed it before it could do any damage.
"Yesterday morning was yesterday morning." She said calmly, eyeing the doctor warily. "I'm fine now."
Janet raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Yes, really." Sam nodded. "Could I at least have the coffee?"
Janet sighed and handed it over, watching as Sam's hand steadily held the Styrofoam cup. "It's... it's just a little hard to be exactly sure what's going on..." Janet frowned, sitting herself down on the bed next to Sam.
Involuntarily, Sam tensed, jerking the mug and spilling the hot liquid on the crisp white sheets. Janet raised an eyebrow, smiling gently.
Sam sighed and put the mug down, her shoulders slumping.
"I'm tired," she whispered.
Janet touched her cheek gently, unfazed as Sam jerked away again. "I know," she agreed, "but you'll be fine."
"I'm... it's so hard, Janet," Sam continued, stilling under Janet's careful hands. "I just... I *want* to be fine."
Janet smiled and put her hands on either side of Sam's face, lifting until Sam looked her in the eye. "I know that. And you will be. But it doesn't just happen like that," she said gently.
Sam sighed in frustration, pulling her head out of Janet's hold.
Janet pulled back to herself, watching Sam. "How do you feel?" She asked eventually.
"Tired," Sam said instantly.
"Scared?"
"No." Sam shook her head. "I... I'm not scared. But... but when..." The sentence trailed off.
"You won't always be scared." Janet reached out again, and again Sam jerked back.
"I don't like people touching me," Sam whispered plaintively.
Janet nodded, and kept still.
"And I don't like people looked at me," Sam continued, her voice fading away. "I just want to go home, Janet."
"Soon. If you promise me to keep trying and to let me help then you'll be allowed to go home soon," Janet promised.
Hopefully Sam raised her eyes up to Janet. "And... and the SGC?"
Janet smiled, amusement on her face. "You haven't changed, have you?"
Fine lines around Sam's eyes crinkled slightly, and as the muscles around her mouth twitched, Janet knew that they'd made a start.
* * *
O'Neill stared at the wall.
There was a crack in it. A long, single, solitary crack that wound its way up the wall, curling and twisting and careening away... but it reached the roof eventually.
He sighed.
The wall was white.
White.
Boring, plain, disinfected white.
He was bored. Plain and simple. Bored out of his mind.
But he was also scared out of his mind.
The frustration was building within him. The wall wasn't keeping his mind blank anymore. The wall was boring.
But, another part of him argued, boring was good. Boring meant no chance of unexpected surprises, it meant no unwelcome excitement. It meant no more swinging emotions. It meant no stress.
Except of course the stress placed on him by his boredom.
"How are we feeling this morning, Colonel?" He hated that voice. He didn't only hate the voice though; he hated the man that the voice belonged to as well. "Have a good breakfast?"
"If you like toast that tasted like cardboard, sure." He didn't move his eyes from the crack on the wall.
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."
"How about you have mine tomorrow, and I'll have yours." His eyes ran up and down the crack.
"I'm afraid that's not possible. Dr. Warner would have my head on a chopping block if I let you near bacon and eggs."
O'Neill turned his eyes slowly towards McKenzie. "I don't see what would be so bad about that."
The room fell silent.
O'Neill stared at the shrink, studying the oily black hair and smoke stained face. An eel. McKenzie reminded him of an eel. He almost smiled in satisfaction.
"Well, it looks like I was right," McKenzie smirked.
O'Neill raised an eyebrow. McKenzie and right in the same sentence?
"Dr. Fraiser should have taken my advice on this case a long time ago. Major Carter is also showing remarkable signs of improvement this morning."
O'Neill's breath caught in his throat.
Her. Carter. The woman...
He swallowed.
"So. When can I get back on duty?" He demanded harshly, trying to grip the wheels on the wheelchair, but his arms refused to push them forwards. What had happened to his strength?
"I'm afraid it will be a while before you're allowed to even walk, not to mention be returned to active duty," McKenzie said almost cheerfully. "You'll also have to have several sessions with me..."
"Now there's something to look forward too."
It was hard, he reflected almost absently, pretending to be fine. Pretending to move on.
But he didn't really have a choice, did he? He owed them everything. And everything meant doing everything he could to make things right again.
He laughed silently, bitterly. Things right again. Yeah, right. Things could never be right again. Still... pretending that he was fine was probably more interesting than being bored mindless while staring at a single crack on a white wall.
* * *
Hammond narrowed his eyes.
"You mean they're *both* suddenly showing signs of recovering mentally?" Jacob asked slowly, letting the words run over them.
McKenzie and Fraiser both nodded their heads, glanced at each other quickly and then turned to Hammond again.
"Colonel O'Neill has suddenly redeveloped his vocal skills. He was attempting to wheel himself around this morning, however the last month of inactivity coupled with his previous medical condition has resulted in a severe lack of physical ability."
There was silence while they digested the information.
Hammond stared down at the page in front of him, the typed sheet bearing all the specific details of O'Neill. "What about Major Carter?"
Janet hesitated. "She's... she's indicated - verbally - that she wants to get better. She's also made it apparent that she's reluctant towards physical contact... She also mentioned something about being watched, but I'm going to assume that that particular statement was made in particular reference to males." Janet studied her notes carefully, careful not to miss any minor details.
"Was yesterday's outburst mentioned at all?" Hammond asked gently.
"What outburst?" Jacob demanded, eyes narrowed as he stared at the doctors.
"Dr. McKenzie suggested we 'reintroduce' them to one another-"
"They haven't seen each other since they were rescued?" Jacob's eyes widened.
"No." Dr. Fraiser shook her head. "As I was saying, we believed that some of their condition was partially due to the shock of suddenly transferring out of one environment and straight into another one. If, by reintroducing them to one another, we could give them something 'familiar', then maybe they would start to make their recoveries."
"I'm guessing it worked." Jacob glanced at the pages.
"Sort of," McKenzie said slowly.
"When they finally noticed one another... I don't think they're friends anymore." Janet said softly.
Jacob nodded slowly. "What about mention of Dr. Jackson and Teal'c?"
"Nothing. I was talking to Sam yesterday, and just the mention of Daniel's name caused her to become incredibly upset." Janet shook her head.
"Colonel O'Neill just pretends he hasn't heard the comment. Either that or he just changes the subject."
Hammond sighed, rubbing at his face. "What do you recommend?"
"They're still in the early stages of recovery, Sir," Janet said, her eyes narrowed.
How long do you believe this 'recovery' will take?
"It's impossible to tell," McKenzie stated. "Each patient is different, each situation is different... even the patient's background and previous medical..."
"Roughly," Jacob snapped.
"Well... Judging by Sam's mindset - and her determination - I'd say that she's already got herself convinced she's fine, which means it will only be a matter of weeks until she's got complete control of herself again."
"But?" Hammond waited.
"If she doesn't deal with what's happened to her... if she shuts it out like she's doing now... either it will hold her back now or some time in the future she's going to pay for it. Until she's dealt with everything I sincerely doubt she'll be 'fully recovered'."
"It's very rare that a patient manages to 'completely recover' without actually dealing with the incident," McKenzie inserted, nodding his head. "Colonel O'Neill is a classic example. His records show that he never completely satisfied the psychologists working with him - he never actually co-operated. Just one day he decided to get better, and so he got better. Even during his years at the SGC he has shown several classic symptoms of suppressed feelings..." McKenzie trailed off.
"I don't want to do this." Jacob rubbed at his face. "But I don't have a choice."
"Doctors... how soon do you believe Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill would be ready to return to active duty?"
Janet opened her mouth in protest, and then closed it. "I... I don't know. If we don't come across any complications, and Sam still has her stubbornness... I'd say that she might be ready in a few months."
"O'Neill will be longer - if ever," McKenzie said slowly. "He's got a lot more physiotherapy and physical recovery ahead of him than Major Carter... and he's also not as young as she is."
Jacob nodded. "You know what to do, George." He stood up.
"Aren't you going to see her?"
Jacob shook his head. "Not this time. Maybe... maybe when the Doc feels she's doing a bit better. Wouldn't want to undo all her hard work." Jacob's voice was rough, but no one said anything.
Janet watched the Tok'ra leave the room, and then turned questioning eyes onto the General. "Sir?"
Hammond stared down at the paper again, before looking at her. "It's nothing more than an idea, as yet Doctor. Don't worry yourself about it," he said eventually.
McKenzie started to protest, and then fell silent.
"You'd better get home. You've had some long days." Hammond stood up.
~6~
Sam let her fingers trail slowly over the trinkets, watching as the dust stuck to her digit.
"I'm sorry about the dust. I kept it pretty clean at first, but then things got busy and..."
"It's okay," Sam said gently. "I'm just happy it's all here."
"Your Dad wouldn't let me sell it," Janet admitted, a smile tugging on her face.
Sam remained silent, looking at the room. It felt oddly familiar, as she gazed around it, looking at all her personal belongings. They were just the way she'd left them, giving a ghost of her presence to the room.
"When... when you first disappeared... Cassie and I used to come stay over often," Janet said softly, reaching out to finger a photo standing on the mantle.
Sam gazed over at it, and then flinched. It was of SG-1...
"Think you'll be okay?" Janet asked softly, interrupting her.
Sam nodded mutely.
"Okay. I'll... I'll bring Cassie over tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
Janet jiggled her keys nervously, watching Sam like a hawk. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah." Sam smiled this time, a beam of relief as she gazed around the room. "I'm fine, Janet. I'm home... I'm safe... I'm happy," she whispered.
Janet felt her eyes misting over and gathered her friend in a hug. "I'm so happy." Janet echoed, her tearful giggle escaping as Sam tightened her arms around the petite doctor.
"Me too. Now, you get home." Sam said briskly, and for a second it felt as though she had never left, never changed... "And I'm going to cook myself a *huge* meal, curl up in front of the TV and watch movies all night long."
"And you're not inviting me?" Janet pouted playfully.
"No. If I remember correctly someone had a teenager at home..."
"She's so big now," Janet said wistfully.
Sam's smile grew teary. "I missed her. I missed you too."
Janet chuckled again, wiping her eyes furiously. "Well. You're back now. It's all over."
"Yes." Sam nodded. Deliberately she reached over and pushed the photo of SG- 1 over, until it was lying on its face, hiding its image from her view. "It's all over."
* * *
O'Neill breezed into the room, his bag carelessly slung over a shoulder.
He faltered mid-step, his eyes riveted to the far corner.
"That's great, Sam. Only a few more... wonderful."
He swallowed roughly, watching the long, faintly tanned limbs glistening with a sheen of sweat as they worked the machinery. Oh...
"How'd I do?" She was out of breath, her cheeks flushed a healthy red.
"You know I'm not allowed to say," Janet smiled, marking something on the paper.
"Janet..." She almost smiled at the doctor, but O'Neill could see the apprehension in her blue eyes. Her physical fitness still wasn't what it used to be, her panting was testimony to that. Still, she was obviously in better condition than him.
"Sam... it's not up to me to do the evaluation. You know that."
She pouted for a second, and then flopped over, touching her toes quickly before straightening up.
"Dr. Warner will have to go over the results as well... but..."
Sam looked up, her eyes shining with hope.
"I'm not allowed to say anything," Janet said pointedly, but her smile telling another story. "Go take a shower, Major, and I'll go give these results to Dr. Warner."
Sam flashed a brilliant smile at the petite doctor and grabbed a towel.
Then she froze, obviously catching sight of him for the first time.
"Sam, what...?" Janet turned around as well, and then realised what the problem was.
O'Neill shifted uncomfortably. He felt awkward and old when she was looking at him like that, studying him with a cold detachment that criticised everything he was trying to build up again.
Silently she turned from him, and he felt the usual stab of guilt pierce him. This time, the guilt was followed by a prick of anger as well. She was treating him worse than-
He shook his head and continued to his spot in the room, his eyes gazing around greedily for Marcus. Where was the physiotherapist when he *really* needed him? Having coffee, more than likely, he sighed to himself.
The air between them was frosty, the hatred and revulsion radiating from her thick enough to give a chainsaw trouble cutting through it.
He kept his head high and moved determinedly to dump his bag on the bench. He wouldn't look at her. If she saw his guilt and his sorrow then she'd only hate him more, only pity him more for his inability to protect her and do his job.
He sighed, tentatively resting his foot on the bench, wincing as his knee ground painfully when he stretched. It hurt. It hurt so damn bad...
O'Neill clenched his teeth.
Defiantly he straightened his leg and marched over to the treadmill. Damn Marcus. Damn Marcus for not being here to stop this foolish act of pride.
He hit the button and started a smooth jog, pain searing up his leg each time he moved his foot. Faster and faster... it became a blur to him.
But out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him, see her eyebrows raised delicately above two expressionless blue orbs.
He could see Janet too, the worry and confusion clearly written on her face at his stupidity, but wisely refraining from saying anything.
They left the room.
He lost the ability to move his leg.
By the time Marcus entered the therapy room he was lying on his back, sprawled where the treadmill had dumped him, tears of pain and frustration leaking down his cheeks.
* * *
Jacob shifted on his chair nervously, gazing at the door with apprehension.
Any second now... any second now his 'recovered' daughter would come through there.
He swallowed roughly.
Dr. Fraiser would not have encouraged this meeting if she did not believe Samantha to be ready.
"I know that." He sighed. "It's just... last time-"
It was months ago, Jacob. A long time. She would not have agreed to it either if she did not feel herself ready.
Jacob sighed, nodding his head.
The door opened.
One nervous, blond woman awkwardly entered the room.
He swallowed again. "Hi."
"Hi." Her eyes were guarded, fearful even.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." She smiled tightly, but there were tears brimming heavily on her eyelids. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
His own eyes started stinging. "It's okay," he whispered, standing up.
She hesitated, glancing at him almost fearfully before squaring her shoulders and taking a step towards him. A second later she was hugging him, her fingers digging into his back as she clutched at him tightly.
"I was so scared," she whispered, shuddering in his arms.
"I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
She stilled in his arms, and he could feel her muscles tensing beneath his hold. Reluctantly he loosened his arms from around her, and let her go.
She stepped back hastily, her eyes unreadable.
He smiled. It was okay.
"Thank you," he whispered, stepping away from her, acknowledging what this had cost her.
Her answering smile was as watery as his, and she quickly brushed a tear from under her eyelid.
"So. How's Selmak?"
He relaxed. "Why don't you ask her that yourself?"
She smiled fully then, relief shining crystal clear in her features.
It would be okay.
* * *
TO: Major General George Hammond, USAF
FROM: Dr. Major Janet Fraiser, USAF
RE: MEDICAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION - MAJOR SAMANTHA CARTER
10/3/05
I can no longer find any reasons to keep Major Carter from returning to active duty. Her physical condition is once again above required levels, and her mental ability has not changed at all. Her refusal to discuss Dr. Jackson, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill is a concern; however it is not enough of a concern to keep her from serving her full capacity as a Major.
Her reluctance to talk about her experiences on P32 910, and what led to the capture of SG-1 is also a concern, however the psychological effect of forcing her to confront this could be more damaging than healing.
Major Carter has developed several habits that indicate the events of the last year and a half do still affect her psychologically; however I do not believe that any of them - save perhaps one in the most extreme of cases (Point A) - will affect her performance as a member of an SG team at all.
I therefore recommend that she be reinstated into active duty.
Dr. Major Janet Fraiser.
* POINT A: Due to her experiences and treatment during her imprisonment, Major Carter has developed a mild ... phobia, particularly towards males. She is, however, showing encouraging signs of overcoming this condition. I believe that stationing her on an SG team with male teammates will encourage this condition to be healed quickly as she will once again be entrusting her life to members of the opposite sex.
* * *
O'Neill bashed half-heartedly at the lump of stuff in front of him. It barely moved beneath his flailing fists.
"Colonel." A voice reached him easily over his rough pants for breath, and he was grateful for the excuse to stop for a minute.
"Ferretti." He grinned slightly, walking over to where the Major was waiting with a towel.
"Not doing bad." Ferretti handed him the soft white cloth, and O'Neill took a moment to dry the sweat from his neck. "McKenzie says you've been down here for an hour already."
O'Neill scowled. "What, does he keep a second by second record of my whereabouts?"
"No," Ferretti chuckled, slapping O'Neill on the shoulder. "Fraiser's just keeping one on you, and if she feels that you're over doing it then you can bet your booties she'll have you back in that wheelchair quicker than Dr. Jackson could have made most ladies smile..." Ferretti froze.
The towel drew to a ragged halt on O'Neill's arm.
"So. You here for a reason or just come to watch someone with talent work out for a while?" The towel continued its path down his arm.
Ferretti frowned, but answered with a retort. "Yeah, unfortunately I only found an old man down here so I realised it would have been a waste of time."
O'Neill threw the towel at him.
"No... Hammond asked me to tell you... well, okay, he didn't... but..."
"Spit it out."
"Carter's been reassigned." O'Neill didn't stop pulling his helmet off, so Ferretti forged on. "To my team."
"Pass me that towel again, would you?" O'Neill asked carelessly.
Ferretti threw the towel over as asked, and then waited. "So?"
"So what?" O'Neill looked up innocently, grimacing as his neck muscles complained.
"You don't mind?"
"Mind what? That you gave me a dirty towel? Course not."
"Ha ha. I was talking about Carter, Jack."
The locker was dented before Ferretti even realised O'Neill's fist had moved towards it.
"Colonel!"
O'Neill turned to Ferretti, and Ferretti backed away as the calm, masked eyes met his own. "Why should it bother me? It's your team." He shrugged, and turned away again.
"Yeah... but... she is your second," Ferretti said softly as O'Neill exited the room.
* * *
From long experience, Sam knew that when the chair clicked it was half a spin away from collapsing. So she stopped spinning in one direction and started twirling around in the other direction.
"Sam."
She startled and clutched desperately at the desk somewhere in front of her. Her fingers connected with the solid wood and she jerked to a rough halt, smiling up guiltily as Janet entered the small office and sat down opposite her.
"Hey Janet."
Sam gathered her dignity and waited until Janet had put the files down and looked up at her.
"It's your first mission today, isn't it?" Janet asked gently.
Sam nodded, staring down at her fingers resting in her lap.
"You don't have to-"
"No, it's fine." Sam snapped her head up, her eyes earnestly staring at Janet. "It's fine, I'm happy to be back on a team."
Janet nodded, studying the woman in front of her. "What time do you leave?"
"1500 hours," Sam said absently.
Janet checked her wristwatch. "You're early."
Sam nodded, ashamed as a blush stained her cheeks.
"What?" Janet frowned in concern, watching the embarrassment play across Sam's face.
"I know it's stupid. I've known the Major for years... and the others... but-"
"It's okay. No one minds, Sam. They all understand."
"But I *don't* understand." Sam exploded, standing up roughly and pushing the chair out behind her. "I don't understand why I'm like this. Why I suddenly can't stand the thought of getting ready for a mission with them..."
Janet stood up and reached over the desk to place a calming hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, listen to me. You... things were done to you that should *never* be done to anyone... No, Sam, look at me."
Sam reluctantly looked up at Janet, desperately trying to hide her shame the quivering of her lip.
"It's only natural that you're going to be scared because they're male and- "
"I'm not scared, Janet," Sam said, almost amused. "I'm... I just feel... sick. Disgusted." She studied the floor again as she felt Janet's eyes on her. "I'm... I just feel like they're looking at me all the time," she whispered eventually.
"I know." Janet sighed, sinking back down on her chair. "Sam, if you're honestly not ready for this...""I am," Sam protested determinedly. She was ready for this. She'd fought, argued and battled with herself everyday for the last month and a half to get to this point, to be allowed back on an SG team. She couldn't let it all go to waste now because of personal discomfort. "I... I've just got to get used to the guys. That's all."
Janet nodded, understanding. "So you're okay then. Honestly?"
Sam looked up, her jaw set. "Yes. I... It's just a comfort thing," she admitted, looking sheepishly down at the floor again.
Janet smiled in spite of herself. "You want to take the chair with you on the mission?" She asked lightly.
Sam rolled her eyes. "It's not the chair, Janet."
"I know." Janet's eyes stung and her hand reached over and squeezed Sam's fingers gently.
Hesitantly, Sam raised her eyes to Janet's and squeezed the doctor's small digits lightly.
* * *
It was all Hammond could do to stop himself picking up the pen and fiddling. He glared balefully at the pen as it lay innocently on the desk; just tempting him to lift his fingers and fidget. He wouldn't though. He *refused* to let himself slip back into that habit.
He looked up and caught the smile on Jacob's face before the Tok'ra had time to hide his amusement. He glared at his friend before defiantly picking up the pen and putting it in his pocket. He'd be damned before he let his suddenly fidgeting fingers get the better of him.
"How long still?" Jacob asked eventually, looking enviously at Hammond's watch.
Hammond glanced at the object of Jacob's covetous looks and then back at the Tok'ra. "Half an hour."
"They gearing up?" Jacob asked, but Hammond noticed the catch of gruffness in his voice even though he tried to hide it.
"Yes. Though I understand Sam was seen wandering around the halls about two hours ago, fully geared up already."
Jacob smiled in amusement. "She's impossible. Can't wait to get through the gate..." He shook his head slightly, and then stood up before wandering over to the windows overlooking the 'gate. "What about Jack?"
Hammond sighed, and then glared as he became aware of his fingers busily scrunching up a piece of paper. He snatched them back to himself before getting up slowly and joining Jacob at the window. "He won't be gating for a while yet."
Jacob nodded in understanding, but Hammond continued. "His physical condition still isn't cutting it... he's just not... He's reclusive to try and describe it."
"O'Neill?" Jacob frowned, thinking about the vocal man he remembered.
"Oh... he's still vocal, socialises... it's just... Ferretti says it's how he was after his son died." Hammond said gently.
A noise at the door caught their attention.
"Sam." Jacob smiled, and stepped towards his daughter.
She smiled, and stepped forwards hesitantly.
Hammond watched silently as she stood awkwardly while Jacob put his hands on her shoulders, leaning forwards for a peck on the cheek.
She returned the favour, and then squirmed out of his hold before saluting Hammond. Hammond smiled at her, and motioned for her to be seated.
"Major Ferretti said to tell you that we'll be ready to go in fifteen minutes," she reported, pretending to ignore his offer of a seat.
He nodded his head, studying her. She was anxious, he decided. There was something about her, the nervous energy she exuded that spoke about her anxiety. At first he'd thought it was the excitement of her 'first' mission, but he realised that wasn't the cause when he looked carefully at her eyes. She was fretting about something, and he didn't even begin to pretend that he knew what it was she was worried about.
She shifted again, growing uncomfortable with the silence in the room.
"Well... I'd best go join my team, Sir." A smile broke on her face as the words passed over her lips, but Hammond couldn't help noticing the shadow of doubt flickering across her eyes for the briefest second before she saluted again, smiled at her father and marched stiffly out of the room.
Jacob turned to him, eyes wide. "Are you sure she's ready?"
"No," Hammond admitted. "We've given them a recon mission to...., Argos. Nothing should go wrong there... she's been there before so it won't exactly be an unfamiliar situation." Hammond turned to the 'gate. "If it were really up to my opinion, I wouldn't have her going out just yet. But she's been insisting and Dr. Fraiser's admitted that other than a gut feeling, there aren't any reasonable grounds for keeping her here."
"Surely you could..."
"Fraiser also thinks it might help," Hammond said softly, watching as Carter followed her team into the gateroom. Ferretti looked up and threw a casual wave, which Hammond acknowledged with a nod of his head. "Want to join me in the control room?"
Jacob nodded, and the two men slowly made their way to the small room.
"We're ready to go, Sir."
"Dial up Argos," Hammond ordered the technician.
While the inner stone circle spun, Hammond watched the team below. Carter looked awkward; the grin on her face seemingly forced and frozen while the stiffness of her jerky movements betrayed her anxiety. Hammond hoped to God they weren't being too premature with her assignment.
Ferretti looked up as the wormhole locked into place.
The MALP rolled through, and seconds later the telemetry revealed an empty, but clean and peaceful looking room that was familiar to everyone in the control room.
"SG- 2, you have a go."
* * *
Nervous didn't even begin to cover the feelings washing over her.
She followed Ferretti up the ramp, and stopped behind him as he paused for a second to look at his team and then have a last minute talk with the General.
Her eyes strayed over the figures in the control room.
Her Dad, his face Tok'ra bland, was watching her. If she looked hard enough, she knew she'd see the pride shining in his eyes, and Sam felt relief was over her. It hurt him that she was distant to him now, she knew that, but she also knew he understood.
She still loved him. Even if... even if she couldn't bring herself to show it anymore.
Hammond was also there, and she felt the same feelings she felt when she looked at her Dad. Respect, and daughterly love even, warring against the revulsion and irrational fear that clouded her judgment.
"SG..., you have a go."
The words sent tendrils of excitement over her. She had honestly thought she'd never do this again. And here she was... ready to explore the universe again. And ready to put things right. Resolve ran over her, giving her strength and courage. She could do this.
She smiled at the Captain standing next to her, a real smile of joy, and he returned it.
"Let's move out," Ferretti instructed.
A tall, familiar figure with grey hair caught her eye. He was standing in the shadows, watching her.
Sam turned and walked through the gate.
* * *
by Sharim
~5~
There was a small part of her, somewhere in the back of her mind, that was still uneasy. But she stamped down on it, ruthlessly, killing it and discarding it. She was stronger that the fear. She was stronger than what They had said she was.
She would be fine.
"Morning Sam." Once again, the regular routine.
"Morning Janet."
Janet blinked, looking at her.
A smugness rose within her. "What's for breakfast?" She asked.
"Toast... orange.... Sam?"
"Any spreads?" Sam asked, sitting up in the bed.
"What's going on?" Janet demanded, placing the tray deliberately out of read and turning to face the blond woman.
"What do you mean?" Sam eyed the tray. If she was honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she was quite enjoying the game.
"Yesterday morning..."
A shadow or fear, a brush of panic flitted over her, but again she squashed it before it could do any damage.
"Yesterday morning was yesterday morning." She said calmly, eyeing the doctor warily. "I'm fine now."
Janet raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Yes, really." Sam nodded. "Could I at least have the coffee?"
Janet sighed and handed it over, watching as Sam's hand steadily held the Styrofoam cup. "It's... it's just a little hard to be exactly sure what's going on..." Janet frowned, sitting herself down on the bed next to Sam.
Involuntarily, Sam tensed, jerking the mug and spilling the hot liquid on the crisp white sheets. Janet raised an eyebrow, smiling gently.
Sam sighed and put the mug down, her shoulders slumping.
"I'm tired," she whispered.
Janet touched her cheek gently, unfazed as Sam jerked away again. "I know," she agreed, "but you'll be fine."
"I'm... it's so hard, Janet," Sam continued, stilling under Janet's careful hands. "I just... I *want* to be fine."
Janet smiled and put her hands on either side of Sam's face, lifting until Sam looked her in the eye. "I know that. And you will be. But it doesn't just happen like that," she said gently.
Sam sighed in frustration, pulling her head out of Janet's hold.
Janet pulled back to herself, watching Sam. "How do you feel?" She asked eventually.
"Tired," Sam said instantly.
"Scared?"
"No." Sam shook her head. "I... I'm not scared. But... but when..." The sentence trailed off.
"You won't always be scared." Janet reached out again, and again Sam jerked back.
"I don't like people touching me," Sam whispered plaintively.
Janet nodded, and kept still.
"And I don't like people looked at me," Sam continued, her voice fading away. "I just want to go home, Janet."
"Soon. If you promise me to keep trying and to let me help then you'll be allowed to go home soon," Janet promised.
Hopefully Sam raised her eyes up to Janet. "And... and the SGC?"
Janet smiled, amusement on her face. "You haven't changed, have you?"
Fine lines around Sam's eyes crinkled slightly, and as the muscles around her mouth twitched, Janet knew that they'd made a start.
* * *
O'Neill stared at the wall.
There was a crack in it. A long, single, solitary crack that wound its way up the wall, curling and twisting and careening away... but it reached the roof eventually.
He sighed.
The wall was white.
White.
Boring, plain, disinfected white.
He was bored. Plain and simple. Bored out of his mind.
But he was also scared out of his mind.
The frustration was building within him. The wall wasn't keeping his mind blank anymore. The wall was boring.
But, another part of him argued, boring was good. Boring meant no chance of unexpected surprises, it meant no unwelcome excitement. It meant no more swinging emotions. It meant no stress.
Except of course the stress placed on him by his boredom.
"How are we feeling this morning, Colonel?" He hated that voice. He didn't only hate the voice though; he hated the man that the voice belonged to as well. "Have a good breakfast?"
"If you like toast that tasted like cardboard, sure." He didn't move his eyes from the crack on the wall.
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."
"How about you have mine tomorrow, and I'll have yours." His eyes ran up and down the crack.
"I'm afraid that's not possible. Dr. Warner would have my head on a chopping block if I let you near bacon and eggs."
O'Neill turned his eyes slowly towards McKenzie. "I don't see what would be so bad about that."
The room fell silent.
O'Neill stared at the shrink, studying the oily black hair and smoke stained face. An eel. McKenzie reminded him of an eel. He almost smiled in satisfaction.
"Well, it looks like I was right," McKenzie smirked.
O'Neill raised an eyebrow. McKenzie and right in the same sentence?
"Dr. Fraiser should have taken my advice on this case a long time ago. Major Carter is also showing remarkable signs of improvement this morning."
O'Neill's breath caught in his throat.
Her. Carter. The woman...
He swallowed.
"So. When can I get back on duty?" He demanded harshly, trying to grip the wheels on the wheelchair, but his arms refused to push them forwards. What had happened to his strength?
"I'm afraid it will be a while before you're allowed to even walk, not to mention be returned to active duty," McKenzie said almost cheerfully. "You'll also have to have several sessions with me..."
"Now there's something to look forward too."
It was hard, he reflected almost absently, pretending to be fine. Pretending to move on.
But he didn't really have a choice, did he? He owed them everything. And everything meant doing everything he could to make things right again.
He laughed silently, bitterly. Things right again. Yeah, right. Things could never be right again. Still... pretending that he was fine was probably more interesting than being bored mindless while staring at a single crack on a white wall.
* * *
Hammond narrowed his eyes.
"You mean they're *both* suddenly showing signs of recovering mentally?" Jacob asked slowly, letting the words run over them.
McKenzie and Fraiser both nodded their heads, glanced at each other quickly and then turned to Hammond again.
"Colonel O'Neill has suddenly redeveloped his vocal skills. He was attempting to wheel himself around this morning, however the last month of inactivity coupled with his previous medical condition has resulted in a severe lack of physical ability."
There was silence while they digested the information.
Hammond stared down at the page in front of him, the typed sheet bearing all the specific details of O'Neill. "What about Major Carter?"
Janet hesitated. "She's... she's indicated - verbally - that she wants to get better. She's also made it apparent that she's reluctant towards physical contact... She also mentioned something about being watched, but I'm going to assume that that particular statement was made in particular reference to males." Janet studied her notes carefully, careful not to miss any minor details.
"Was yesterday's outburst mentioned at all?" Hammond asked gently.
"What outburst?" Jacob demanded, eyes narrowed as he stared at the doctors.
"Dr. McKenzie suggested we 'reintroduce' them to one another-"
"They haven't seen each other since they were rescued?" Jacob's eyes widened.
"No." Dr. Fraiser shook her head. "As I was saying, we believed that some of their condition was partially due to the shock of suddenly transferring out of one environment and straight into another one. If, by reintroducing them to one another, we could give them something 'familiar', then maybe they would start to make their recoveries."
"I'm guessing it worked." Jacob glanced at the pages.
"Sort of," McKenzie said slowly.
"When they finally noticed one another... I don't think they're friends anymore." Janet said softly.
Jacob nodded slowly. "What about mention of Dr. Jackson and Teal'c?"
"Nothing. I was talking to Sam yesterday, and just the mention of Daniel's name caused her to become incredibly upset." Janet shook her head.
"Colonel O'Neill just pretends he hasn't heard the comment. Either that or he just changes the subject."
Hammond sighed, rubbing at his face. "What do you recommend?"
"They're still in the early stages of recovery, Sir," Janet said, her eyes narrowed.
How long do you believe this 'recovery' will take?
"It's impossible to tell," McKenzie stated. "Each patient is different, each situation is different... even the patient's background and previous medical..."
"Roughly," Jacob snapped.
"Well... Judging by Sam's mindset - and her determination - I'd say that she's already got herself convinced she's fine, which means it will only be a matter of weeks until she's got complete control of herself again."
"But?" Hammond waited.
"If she doesn't deal with what's happened to her... if she shuts it out like she's doing now... either it will hold her back now or some time in the future she's going to pay for it. Until she's dealt with everything I sincerely doubt she'll be 'fully recovered'."
"It's very rare that a patient manages to 'completely recover' without actually dealing with the incident," McKenzie inserted, nodding his head. "Colonel O'Neill is a classic example. His records show that he never completely satisfied the psychologists working with him - he never actually co-operated. Just one day he decided to get better, and so he got better. Even during his years at the SGC he has shown several classic symptoms of suppressed feelings..." McKenzie trailed off.
"I don't want to do this." Jacob rubbed at his face. "But I don't have a choice."
"Doctors... how soon do you believe Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill would be ready to return to active duty?"
Janet opened her mouth in protest, and then closed it. "I... I don't know. If we don't come across any complications, and Sam still has her stubbornness... I'd say that she might be ready in a few months."
"O'Neill will be longer - if ever," McKenzie said slowly. "He's got a lot more physiotherapy and physical recovery ahead of him than Major Carter... and he's also not as young as she is."
Jacob nodded. "You know what to do, George." He stood up.
"Aren't you going to see her?"
Jacob shook his head. "Not this time. Maybe... maybe when the Doc feels she's doing a bit better. Wouldn't want to undo all her hard work." Jacob's voice was rough, but no one said anything.
Janet watched the Tok'ra leave the room, and then turned questioning eyes onto the General. "Sir?"
Hammond stared down at the paper again, before looking at her. "It's nothing more than an idea, as yet Doctor. Don't worry yourself about it," he said eventually.
McKenzie started to protest, and then fell silent.
"You'd better get home. You've had some long days." Hammond stood up.
~6~
Sam let her fingers trail slowly over the trinkets, watching as the dust stuck to her digit.
"I'm sorry about the dust. I kept it pretty clean at first, but then things got busy and..."
"It's okay," Sam said gently. "I'm just happy it's all here."
"Your Dad wouldn't let me sell it," Janet admitted, a smile tugging on her face.
Sam remained silent, looking at the room. It felt oddly familiar, as she gazed around it, looking at all her personal belongings. They were just the way she'd left them, giving a ghost of her presence to the room.
"When... when you first disappeared... Cassie and I used to come stay over often," Janet said softly, reaching out to finger a photo standing on the mantle.
Sam gazed over at it, and then flinched. It was of SG-1...
"Think you'll be okay?" Janet asked softly, interrupting her.
Sam nodded mutely.
"Okay. I'll... I'll bring Cassie over tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
Janet jiggled her keys nervously, watching Sam like a hawk. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah." Sam smiled this time, a beam of relief as she gazed around the room. "I'm fine, Janet. I'm home... I'm safe... I'm happy," she whispered.
Janet felt her eyes misting over and gathered her friend in a hug. "I'm so happy." Janet echoed, her tearful giggle escaping as Sam tightened her arms around the petite doctor.
"Me too. Now, you get home." Sam said briskly, and for a second it felt as though she had never left, never changed... "And I'm going to cook myself a *huge* meal, curl up in front of the TV and watch movies all night long."
"And you're not inviting me?" Janet pouted playfully.
"No. If I remember correctly someone had a teenager at home..."
"She's so big now," Janet said wistfully.
Sam's smile grew teary. "I missed her. I missed you too."
Janet chuckled again, wiping her eyes furiously. "Well. You're back now. It's all over."
"Yes." Sam nodded. Deliberately she reached over and pushed the photo of SG- 1 over, until it was lying on its face, hiding its image from her view. "It's all over."
* * *
O'Neill breezed into the room, his bag carelessly slung over a shoulder.
He faltered mid-step, his eyes riveted to the far corner.
"That's great, Sam. Only a few more... wonderful."
He swallowed roughly, watching the long, faintly tanned limbs glistening with a sheen of sweat as they worked the machinery. Oh...
"How'd I do?" She was out of breath, her cheeks flushed a healthy red.
"You know I'm not allowed to say," Janet smiled, marking something on the paper.
"Janet..." She almost smiled at the doctor, but O'Neill could see the apprehension in her blue eyes. Her physical fitness still wasn't what it used to be, her panting was testimony to that. Still, she was obviously in better condition than him.
"Sam... it's not up to me to do the evaluation. You know that."
She pouted for a second, and then flopped over, touching her toes quickly before straightening up.
"Dr. Warner will have to go over the results as well... but..."
Sam looked up, her eyes shining with hope.
"I'm not allowed to say anything," Janet said pointedly, but her smile telling another story. "Go take a shower, Major, and I'll go give these results to Dr. Warner."
Sam flashed a brilliant smile at the petite doctor and grabbed a towel.
Then she froze, obviously catching sight of him for the first time.
"Sam, what...?" Janet turned around as well, and then realised what the problem was.
O'Neill shifted uncomfortably. He felt awkward and old when she was looking at him like that, studying him with a cold detachment that criticised everything he was trying to build up again.
Silently she turned from him, and he felt the usual stab of guilt pierce him. This time, the guilt was followed by a prick of anger as well. She was treating him worse than-
He shook his head and continued to his spot in the room, his eyes gazing around greedily for Marcus. Where was the physiotherapist when he *really* needed him? Having coffee, more than likely, he sighed to himself.
The air between them was frosty, the hatred and revulsion radiating from her thick enough to give a chainsaw trouble cutting through it.
He kept his head high and moved determinedly to dump his bag on the bench. He wouldn't look at her. If she saw his guilt and his sorrow then she'd only hate him more, only pity him more for his inability to protect her and do his job.
He sighed, tentatively resting his foot on the bench, wincing as his knee ground painfully when he stretched. It hurt. It hurt so damn bad...
O'Neill clenched his teeth.
Defiantly he straightened his leg and marched over to the treadmill. Damn Marcus. Damn Marcus for not being here to stop this foolish act of pride.
He hit the button and started a smooth jog, pain searing up his leg each time he moved his foot. Faster and faster... it became a blur to him.
But out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him, see her eyebrows raised delicately above two expressionless blue orbs.
He could see Janet too, the worry and confusion clearly written on her face at his stupidity, but wisely refraining from saying anything.
They left the room.
He lost the ability to move his leg.
By the time Marcus entered the therapy room he was lying on his back, sprawled where the treadmill had dumped him, tears of pain and frustration leaking down his cheeks.
* * *
Jacob shifted on his chair nervously, gazing at the door with apprehension.
Any second now... any second now his 'recovered' daughter would come through there.
He swallowed roughly.
Dr. Fraiser would not have encouraged this meeting if she did not believe Samantha to be ready.
"I know that." He sighed. "It's just... last time-"
It was months ago, Jacob. A long time. She would not have agreed to it either if she did not feel herself ready.
Jacob sighed, nodding his head.
The door opened.
One nervous, blond woman awkwardly entered the room.
He swallowed again. "Hi."
"Hi." Her eyes were guarded, fearful even.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." She smiled tightly, but there were tears brimming heavily on her eyelids. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
His own eyes started stinging. "It's okay," he whispered, standing up.
She hesitated, glancing at him almost fearfully before squaring her shoulders and taking a step towards him. A second later she was hugging him, her fingers digging into his back as she clutched at him tightly.
"I was so scared," she whispered, shuddering in his arms.
"I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
She stilled in his arms, and he could feel her muscles tensing beneath his hold. Reluctantly he loosened his arms from around her, and let her go.
She stepped back hastily, her eyes unreadable.
He smiled. It was okay.
"Thank you," he whispered, stepping away from her, acknowledging what this had cost her.
Her answering smile was as watery as his, and she quickly brushed a tear from under her eyelid.
"So. How's Selmak?"
He relaxed. "Why don't you ask her that yourself?"
She smiled fully then, relief shining crystal clear in her features.
It would be okay.
* * *
TO: Major General George Hammond, USAF
FROM: Dr. Major Janet Fraiser, USAF
RE: MEDICAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION - MAJOR SAMANTHA CARTER
10/3/05
I can no longer find any reasons to keep Major Carter from returning to active duty. Her physical condition is once again above required levels, and her mental ability has not changed at all. Her refusal to discuss Dr. Jackson, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill is a concern; however it is not enough of a concern to keep her from serving her full capacity as a Major.
Her reluctance to talk about her experiences on P32 910, and what led to the capture of SG-1 is also a concern, however the psychological effect of forcing her to confront this could be more damaging than healing.
Major Carter has developed several habits that indicate the events of the last year and a half do still affect her psychologically; however I do not believe that any of them - save perhaps one in the most extreme of cases (Point A) - will affect her performance as a member of an SG team at all.
I therefore recommend that she be reinstated into active duty.
Dr. Major Janet Fraiser.
* POINT A: Due to her experiences and treatment during her imprisonment, Major Carter has developed a mild ... phobia, particularly towards males. She is, however, showing encouraging signs of overcoming this condition. I believe that stationing her on an SG team with male teammates will encourage this condition to be healed quickly as she will once again be entrusting her life to members of the opposite sex.
* * *
O'Neill bashed half-heartedly at the lump of stuff in front of him. It barely moved beneath his flailing fists.
"Colonel." A voice reached him easily over his rough pants for breath, and he was grateful for the excuse to stop for a minute.
"Ferretti." He grinned slightly, walking over to where the Major was waiting with a towel.
"Not doing bad." Ferretti handed him the soft white cloth, and O'Neill took a moment to dry the sweat from his neck. "McKenzie says you've been down here for an hour already."
O'Neill scowled. "What, does he keep a second by second record of my whereabouts?"
"No," Ferretti chuckled, slapping O'Neill on the shoulder. "Fraiser's just keeping one on you, and if she feels that you're over doing it then you can bet your booties she'll have you back in that wheelchair quicker than Dr. Jackson could have made most ladies smile..." Ferretti froze.
The towel drew to a ragged halt on O'Neill's arm.
"So. You here for a reason or just come to watch someone with talent work out for a while?" The towel continued its path down his arm.
Ferretti frowned, but answered with a retort. "Yeah, unfortunately I only found an old man down here so I realised it would have been a waste of time."
O'Neill threw the towel at him.
"No... Hammond asked me to tell you... well, okay, he didn't... but..."
"Spit it out."
"Carter's been reassigned." O'Neill didn't stop pulling his helmet off, so Ferretti forged on. "To my team."
"Pass me that towel again, would you?" O'Neill asked carelessly.
Ferretti threw the towel over as asked, and then waited. "So?"
"So what?" O'Neill looked up innocently, grimacing as his neck muscles complained.
"You don't mind?"
"Mind what? That you gave me a dirty towel? Course not."
"Ha ha. I was talking about Carter, Jack."
The locker was dented before Ferretti even realised O'Neill's fist had moved towards it.
"Colonel!"
O'Neill turned to Ferretti, and Ferretti backed away as the calm, masked eyes met his own. "Why should it bother me? It's your team." He shrugged, and turned away again.
"Yeah... but... she is your second," Ferretti said softly as O'Neill exited the room.
* * *
From long experience, Sam knew that when the chair clicked it was half a spin away from collapsing. So she stopped spinning in one direction and started twirling around in the other direction.
"Sam."
She startled and clutched desperately at the desk somewhere in front of her. Her fingers connected with the solid wood and she jerked to a rough halt, smiling up guiltily as Janet entered the small office and sat down opposite her.
"Hey Janet."
Sam gathered her dignity and waited until Janet had put the files down and looked up at her.
"It's your first mission today, isn't it?" Janet asked gently.
Sam nodded, staring down at her fingers resting in her lap.
"You don't have to-"
"No, it's fine." Sam snapped her head up, her eyes earnestly staring at Janet. "It's fine, I'm happy to be back on a team."
Janet nodded, studying the woman in front of her. "What time do you leave?"
"1500 hours," Sam said absently.
Janet checked her wristwatch. "You're early."
Sam nodded, ashamed as a blush stained her cheeks.
"What?" Janet frowned in concern, watching the embarrassment play across Sam's face.
"I know it's stupid. I've known the Major for years... and the others... but-"
"It's okay. No one minds, Sam. They all understand."
"But I *don't* understand." Sam exploded, standing up roughly and pushing the chair out behind her. "I don't understand why I'm like this. Why I suddenly can't stand the thought of getting ready for a mission with them..."
Janet stood up and reached over the desk to place a calming hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, listen to me. You... things were done to you that should *never* be done to anyone... No, Sam, look at me."
Sam reluctantly looked up at Janet, desperately trying to hide her shame the quivering of her lip.
"It's only natural that you're going to be scared because they're male and- "
"I'm not scared, Janet," Sam said, almost amused. "I'm... I just feel... sick. Disgusted." She studied the floor again as she felt Janet's eyes on her. "I'm... I just feel like they're looking at me all the time," she whispered eventually.
"I know." Janet sighed, sinking back down on her chair. "Sam, if you're honestly not ready for this...""I am," Sam protested determinedly. She was ready for this. She'd fought, argued and battled with herself everyday for the last month and a half to get to this point, to be allowed back on an SG team. She couldn't let it all go to waste now because of personal discomfort. "I... I've just got to get used to the guys. That's all."
Janet nodded, understanding. "So you're okay then. Honestly?"
Sam looked up, her jaw set. "Yes. I... It's just a comfort thing," she admitted, looking sheepishly down at the floor again.
Janet smiled in spite of herself. "You want to take the chair with you on the mission?" She asked lightly.
Sam rolled her eyes. "It's not the chair, Janet."
"I know." Janet's eyes stung and her hand reached over and squeezed Sam's fingers gently.
Hesitantly, Sam raised her eyes to Janet's and squeezed the doctor's small digits lightly.
* * *
It was all Hammond could do to stop himself picking up the pen and fiddling. He glared balefully at the pen as it lay innocently on the desk; just tempting him to lift his fingers and fidget. He wouldn't though. He *refused* to let himself slip back into that habit.
He looked up and caught the smile on Jacob's face before the Tok'ra had time to hide his amusement. He glared at his friend before defiantly picking up the pen and putting it in his pocket. He'd be damned before he let his suddenly fidgeting fingers get the better of him.
"How long still?" Jacob asked eventually, looking enviously at Hammond's watch.
Hammond glanced at the object of Jacob's covetous looks and then back at the Tok'ra. "Half an hour."
"They gearing up?" Jacob asked, but Hammond noticed the catch of gruffness in his voice even though he tried to hide it.
"Yes. Though I understand Sam was seen wandering around the halls about two hours ago, fully geared up already."
Jacob smiled in amusement. "She's impossible. Can't wait to get through the gate..." He shook his head slightly, and then stood up before wandering over to the windows overlooking the 'gate. "What about Jack?"
Hammond sighed, and then glared as he became aware of his fingers busily scrunching up a piece of paper. He snatched them back to himself before getting up slowly and joining Jacob at the window. "He won't be gating for a while yet."
Jacob nodded in understanding, but Hammond continued. "His physical condition still isn't cutting it... he's just not... He's reclusive to try and describe it."
"O'Neill?" Jacob frowned, thinking about the vocal man he remembered.
"Oh... he's still vocal, socialises... it's just... Ferretti says it's how he was after his son died." Hammond said gently.
A noise at the door caught their attention.
"Sam." Jacob smiled, and stepped towards his daughter.
She smiled, and stepped forwards hesitantly.
Hammond watched silently as she stood awkwardly while Jacob put his hands on her shoulders, leaning forwards for a peck on the cheek.
She returned the favour, and then squirmed out of his hold before saluting Hammond. Hammond smiled at her, and motioned for her to be seated.
"Major Ferretti said to tell you that we'll be ready to go in fifteen minutes," she reported, pretending to ignore his offer of a seat.
He nodded his head, studying her. She was anxious, he decided. There was something about her, the nervous energy she exuded that spoke about her anxiety. At first he'd thought it was the excitement of her 'first' mission, but he realised that wasn't the cause when he looked carefully at her eyes. She was fretting about something, and he didn't even begin to pretend that he knew what it was she was worried about.
She shifted again, growing uncomfortable with the silence in the room.
"Well... I'd best go join my team, Sir." A smile broke on her face as the words passed over her lips, but Hammond couldn't help noticing the shadow of doubt flickering across her eyes for the briefest second before she saluted again, smiled at her father and marched stiffly out of the room.
Jacob turned to him, eyes wide. "Are you sure she's ready?"
"No," Hammond admitted. "We've given them a recon mission to...., Argos. Nothing should go wrong there... she's been there before so it won't exactly be an unfamiliar situation." Hammond turned to the 'gate. "If it were really up to my opinion, I wouldn't have her going out just yet. But she's been insisting and Dr. Fraiser's admitted that other than a gut feeling, there aren't any reasonable grounds for keeping her here."
"Surely you could..."
"Fraiser also thinks it might help," Hammond said softly, watching as Carter followed her team into the gateroom. Ferretti looked up and threw a casual wave, which Hammond acknowledged with a nod of his head. "Want to join me in the control room?"
Jacob nodded, and the two men slowly made their way to the small room.
"We're ready to go, Sir."
"Dial up Argos," Hammond ordered the technician.
While the inner stone circle spun, Hammond watched the team below. Carter looked awkward; the grin on her face seemingly forced and frozen while the stiffness of her jerky movements betrayed her anxiety. Hammond hoped to God they weren't being too premature with her assignment.
Ferretti looked up as the wormhole locked into place.
The MALP rolled through, and seconds later the telemetry revealed an empty, but clean and peaceful looking room that was familiar to everyone in the control room.
"SG- 2, you have a go."
* * *
Nervous didn't even begin to cover the feelings washing over her.
She followed Ferretti up the ramp, and stopped behind him as he paused for a second to look at his team and then have a last minute talk with the General.
Her eyes strayed over the figures in the control room.
Her Dad, his face Tok'ra bland, was watching her. If she looked hard enough, she knew she'd see the pride shining in his eyes, and Sam felt relief was over her. It hurt him that she was distant to him now, she knew that, but she also knew he understood.
She still loved him. Even if... even if she couldn't bring herself to show it anymore.
Hammond was also there, and she felt the same feelings she felt when she looked at her Dad. Respect, and daughterly love even, warring against the revulsion and irrational fear that clouded her judgment.
"SG..., you have a go."
The words sent tendrils of excitement over her. She had honestly thought she'd never do this again. And here she was... ready to explore the universe again. And ready to put things right. Resolve ran over her, giving her strength and courage. She could do this.
She smiled at the Captain standing next to her, a real smile of joy, and he returned it.
"Let's move out," Ferretti instructed.
A tall, familiar figure with grey hair caught her eye. He was standing in the shadows, watching her.
Sam turned and walked through the gate.
* * *