AN: Medically implausible, I know. But then I'm not a med. student, I'm a fic writer!

Chapter 9

Jack stood in the doorway, his back to the door. He'd been stood there for several minutes now, but he didn't notice the cramp in his legs. He hadn't seen the nurses and doctors who had walked past him with curiosity on their faces. All he could see was Sam's face. The pure terror that had shown on her face as he had walked into that hospital room. Her hands had been heavily bandaged; her fingers all splinted and wrapped. There had been a row of butterfly stitches on her chin. But all he could see was her struggling to get away from him. Crying out as she tried to use her damaged hands to escape him.

"Colonel?" Janet was there. Concerned.

"Someone needs to tell Sam that we caught the fake SG1." He muttered, and then he was gone. Not running, but long military strides. Taking him away from her face, her fear.

Sam opened her eyes groggily. The first thing she registered was pain down the side of her leg; bruised she was sure, if not more; but this was quickly overruled by the agony in her hands. Her vision clearing and the hiss in her ears fading she breathed deeply, holding as still as possible to try and ease it.

"Janet?" She asked as the figure in front of her clarified.

"Samantha Carter. Would you mind telling me exactly what you thought you were doing unconscious on the floor?" Sam shook her head, wincing at the pain of the additional movement.

"I don't remember." She drew in a gasped breath as Janet undid one of the wrappings revealing the swollen digit underneath.

"Hold still. I wouldn't have to do this if it wasn't for your break for freedom. These bandages have slipped and they're going to heal badly if I don't fix them." She looked up as Sam went silent, looking at the door. "Sam?"

"Jack." She murmured. "Janet, Jack was here. It was the other one, I'm sure of it. He came in with a look on his face... I was trying to get to the call button. I must have fallen off the bed and knocked myself out."

"I think it's more likely the pain knocked you out. You pulled your IV out as well. But it wasn't the other Jack. It was the real one. He called by earlier to tell you that the fake SG1 had been arrested. I got a call a couple of minutes later confirming the stand down on the guards."

"But..."

"He's angry at what the other him did to you, Sam. And he's angry with himself that he didn't get back in time to stop him. I'm not surprised he came in with a look of thunder on his face. He left looking a little shell-shocked."

"God, Janet. What have I done?" Sam resisted the temptation to rub at her forehead with her hand. "You have to go after him, Janet. You have to explain. He's going to disappear off and I can't chase after him at the moment."

"Right now, Sam, I'm going to treat your hands. Once I've dealt with you THEN I'll chase after the heartsick lover, but he is of secondary importance at the moment. I'm going to have to bind your ankle as well, it's started swelling."

"I know, it aches..." Sam stopped, realisation dawning. "Janet, my ankle aches."

Jack looked around him. The house looked somehow empty without his things in it. It hadn't taken him long to pack up his belongings from Sam's house and pack them into his car. He would go and live with Teal'c in his old house for a while. Until things settled down he promised himself. He had been forced to sit down and take deep breaths when his hands had strayed across the small velvet box in his coat pocket. He'd forgotten that he'd left it there. Taking one last look around he left the carefully written note on the side and walked out to his car. The drive to his house was a short one especially driving, as he was, a few marks over the speed limit. He sat silent in his car for a moment, the radio off. What was he doing? Was he leaving Sam? No, he loved Sam he could never leave her. He was just giving her the space she needed to get over a traumatic event. A traumatic event where... effectively he had attacked her. Really attacked her, and hurt her badly. Would she still want to even see him? Would she react like that every time she saw him? If so, she wasn't likely to want to still marry him. He cursed and hit the steering wheel, enjoying the pain that shot through his hand. Why was their relationship cursed? Every time they got to a point where they could be happy something else happened.