Dinner was quiet, but this time it wasn't entirely Jack's fault. Sam's mind
was on her earlier conversation with Fraiser, and she was almost as distant
as O'Neill had been recently as she went over the conversation again and
again, wishing she knew how to make him stop blaming himself for something
he had no control over.
He noticed she was quiet, but wasn't sure why, and wondered if it was something he'd done. Since his conversation with Daniel, and his subsequent revelation that she was the most important thing he had, he'd tried very hard to keep the emptiness he felt regarding Daniel's death as separated as he could from his relationship with Sam. He'd tried very hard not to snap, and had even tried to be a little more cooperative, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd said something, or done something that had angered or hurt her without even realizing it. It wouldn't have been the first time. She would have told him, though. Right? Well... maybe?
"Hey... Sam?"
She looked up, more startled that he was initiating a conversation than by the use of her first name.
"Sir?"
"Are... are you okay?" He hesitated, knowing that it would have been a prime chance for her to use his own favorite turn of phrase and tell him she was fine, so he elaborated. "You're awfully quiet. Did I do something?"
"No, you didn't do anything, Colonel," Carter told him. "I was just... thinking."
"About what?"
Sam hesitated, unsure if she wanted to tell him the truth. He closed up so quickly and completely when she mentioned Daniel, and she didn't want to lose what little ground they'd gained. On the other hand, maybe it was just that she was a coward, and couldn't face that blank look again. She hated being closed off from him when he went distant. It was a lonely, terrible feeling to be so close to him physically and know he was a million miles away in every other way that mattered.
"Sam?"
"I... I was thinking about Daniel, Sir," she told him. "About how much I miss him."
She saw the pain in his expression instantly, followed immediately by guilt. It was easy to read his emotions when he wasn't hiding them behind his usual military tough guy façade.
"He..." She shrugged, feeling tears threatening, both at the memory of her lost friend and at the thought of Jack pushing her away yet again. Something she could tell he was about to do. "I miss him..." she repeated, unable to formulate words to say just how much. The tears were there, now, and Sam stood up, her fork clattering to the floor as she backed away from the table. She couldn't lose it in front of him. He blamed himself for so much already that she wasn't going to add to it by bawling in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Sam whispered, her throat too choked with tears and a mighty lump to be able to say more. She rushed out of the room; poise and composure completely shot to hell, and scurried down the hall to her room. She managed to get the door closed before the first sob escaped, but by the time she'd made it to the bed and a pillow to hold she had broken into tears that she couldn't stop.
He noticed she was quiet, but wasn't sure why, and wondered if it was something he'd done. Since his conversation with Daniel, and his subsequent revelation that she was the most important thing he had, he'd tried very hard to keep the emptiness he felt regarding Daniel's death as separated as he could from his relationship with Sam. He'd tried very hard not to snap, and had even tried to be a little more cooperative, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd said something, or done something that had angered or hurt her without even realizing it. It wouldn't have been the first time. She would have told him, though. Right? Well... maybe?
"Hey... Sam?"
She looked up, more startled that he was initiating a conversation than by the use of her first name.
"Sir?"
"Are... are you okay?" He hesitated, knowing that it would have been a prime chance for her to use his own favorite turn of phrase and tell him she was fine, so he elaborated. "You're awfully quiet. Did I do something?"
"No, you didn't do anything, Colonel," Carter told him. "I was just... thinking."
"About what?"
Sam hesitated, unsure if she wanted to tell him the truth. He closed up so quickly and completely when she mentioned Daniel, and she didn't want to lose what little ground they'd gained. On the other hand, maybe it was just that she was a coward, and couldn't face that blank look again. She hated being closed off from him when he went distant. It was a lonely, terrible feeling to be so close to him physically and know he was a million miles away in every other way that mattered.
"Sam?"
"I... I was thinking about Daniel, Sir," she told him. "About how much I miss him."
She saw the pain in his expression instantly, followed immediately by guilt. It was easy to read his emotions when he wasn't hiding them behind his usual military tough guy façade.
"He..." She shrugged, feeling tears threatening, both at the memory of her lost friend and at the thought of Jack pushing her away yet again. Something she could tell he was about to do. "I miss him..." she repeated, unable to formulate words to say just how much. The tears were there, now, and Sam stood up, her fork clattering to the floor as she backed away from the table. She couldn't lose it in front of him. He blamed himself for so much already that she wasn't going to add to it by bawling in front of him.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Sam whispered, her throat too choked with tears and a mighty lump to be able to say more. She rushed out of the room; poise and composure completely shot to hell, and scurried down the hall to her room. She managed to get the door closed before the first sob escaped, but by the time she'd made it to the bed and a pillow to hold she had broken into tears that she couldn't stop.
