Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1
Part 2
**
"O'Neill, it is time for me to take watch."
"Oh, thanks, Teal'c."
"You are welcome to use my sleeping bag."
"Nah, it's okay, Teal'c, I'm gonna share with Carter; I need to make sure she doesn't go into shock or anything."
"Major Carter is alright?"
"Yeah, I've been checking on her and she's sleeping, but tossing around a bit."
"I imagine it is hard to be comfortable with an ankle injury," commented Teal'c.
"Yeah, it is," remembered Jack. "Do me a favor and check on her every so often?"
"Of course," nodded Teal'c, "but is that not the point of you sharing her tent?"
"Yeah, but two of us looking out for her can't hurt."
Jack rose and headed for the tent.
*
As soon as he entered the tent, Jack remembered that he didn't have a pillow anymore and sighed to himself. Grabbing his pack, he pulled it to the top of his sleeping bag, intending to use it as a makeshift pillow.
"Sir?"
"Oh, hey, Carter. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't, I wasn't asleep."
"You weren't?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Sir?"
"I ordered you to get some sleep," he said with a smile.
"Yes, and I did get some sleep, but now I'm awake again."
Jack could tell by her voice that she was still tired.
"Hurting?"
"Yeah," she sighed.
"Did you take painkillers?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I'm on duty, Sir."
"Carter, you're hurt, so you take painkillers," he admonished.
"I'm alright, Sir."
Jack started fumbling around in his pack, eventually finding a flashlight and switching it on. Using the beam from the flashlight, he managed to locate the first-aid kit and remove some painkillers. He then lifted his canteen of water and held it and the pills out for her.
"Carter, take these."
"Sir –"
"Carter, it's an order." He moved closer, but suddenly felt her hand push him away. "Cart–"
Any further words were stopped as Sam brought her hands to her mouth and vomited.
"Oh, God," she said with immense embarrassment a moment later.
"Carter, it's okay," said Jack gently. She turned to look at him and he gave her a comforting smile. "I'm guessing this is delayed shock," he told her. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Placing the pills and water on his sleeping bag, he burrowed in his pack again to find a facecloth. Dripping a little water on it to make it damp, he wiped Carter's face before letting her wipe her hands.
"Okay, your clean t-shirt in your pack?" he asked.
"No, I uh… this is my clean one," she said sadly, looking down at the t-shirt she was wearing, which now had trails of vomit down the front.
"You changed earlier? I thought your shirt didn't get much mud on it?"
"It didn't, but… I kinda did this earlier," she admitted.
"Did what?" At her look, he guessed, "You threw up earlier?"
"Yes."
"Why the hell didn't you let me know?"
"You were on watch, Sir, and besides, I managed to get myself sorted." Jack started looking around and Sam continued, "I rolled the t-shirt up and wrapped it in the mud covered pants, Sir."
"Ah. I meant to throw those outside to air off earlier, I guess I definitely have to do that now; this place is smelling worse than Daniel's socks," he grinned. Carter smiled a weak smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "So, you need something to change into?"
"I'll be okay, Sir," she said unconvincingly.
"Still, I don't want to have to share a tent with someone who smells," he joked. "I have a spare t-shirt." He rummaged through his pack once more and removed the t-shirt, holding it out for her.
"Sir, I can't wear your shirt."
"Why not?"
"For one, it'll be too big for me," she pointed out.
"I'm sure you'll survive, Carter, and it's gotta be better than keeping that one on, hasn't it?"
Knowing he had a point, she slowly nodded her head.
"Sir, could you…"
"Oh, sure," he said, realizing she wanted him to turn around while she changed into his t-shirt.
"I'm done," she said a few moments later.
"Alright, gimme your shirt and I'll put it and the other stuff outside."
"Thanks, Sir."
Jack took the dirty clothes outside and nodded to Teal'c, who turned as soon as he heard movement. Walking to the fireside, Jack picked up a bowl that had been washed earlier and headed back to the tent.
"Is everything alright, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c, looking from the bowl in Jack's hands to the pile of clothes outside the tent.
"Yeah, we just…uh…" Jack trailed off, not wanting to let Teal'c know what happened as it would embarrass Carter further. "Everything's fine, I'm just gonna get some sleep now."
Teal'c nodded and returned his eyes to scanning the surrounding area, leaving Jack free to re-enter the tent.
"Carter, I'm gonna pour some water into this bowl so that you can brush your teeth, okay?" said Jack quietly.
Sam nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness as her mouth really tasted nasty thanks to the earlier vomiting fit. She reached into her pack and removed her toothbrush and toothpaste, using the water in the bowl to clean her teeth properly and then taking a drink from the canteen of water when she was finished. Jack took the bowl from her and popped his head out of the tent to pour the water onto the ground.
"You ready for some painkillers now?" he asked once he'd closed the tent-flap again.
"I don't think so, Sir; I don't know if I could keep them down."
"Well, if you don't take them, the chances are you'll throw up again anyway due to the pain and the shock, whereas, if you do take them, yes, you might throw up, but you might not and they might dull the pain enough to let you sleep."
It was another valid point and Sam agreed, taking the pills he held out for her and washing them down with another swig of water.
"You should take your pillow back, Sir," she said as Jack started to lie down, placing his hands behind his head.
"Nah, it's okay, you use it for your ankle."
"I can use my pack, I just need something to keep it elevated."
"No, actually, I've got a better idea," said Jack, sitting up suddenly and leaving the tent, returning a minute later with a sleeping bag. "Teal'c isn't using it right now," he explained, "so you can use it for your ankle and I'll have my pillow back."
"Good plan, Sir," she smiled, lifting her leg so he could swap the pillow for the sleeping bag.
"Okay, you ready to get some sleep?"
"I'll try," she promised.
It was good enough for Jack and he climbed into his sleeping bag, lay back and switched off the flashlight.
"Let me know if you need anything, Carter."
"Yes, Sir."
*
"Daniel, where's Colonel O'Neill?" asked Sam as she emerged from the tent next morning to find that Jack was nowhere to be seen.
"Call of nature," replied Daniel. "How's the ankle?"
Sam sat down beside him and gratefully took the coffee he held out for her.
"A little better, thanks. Morning, Teal'c," she said as Teal'c joined them.
"Major Carter," he nodded.
As Sam was looking at Teal'c, she noticed that her dirty clothes were no longer outside her tent. She wondered what had happened to them and made a mental note to ask Colonel O'Neill later.
"What wondrous things do we have for breakfast, Daniel?" asked Jack as he emerged from the bushes near the tents.
"Oh, you know, the usual stuff," smiled Daniel.
"Morning, Sir," said Sam brightly, smiling up at him.
"Carter," he said in acknowledgement, nodding, but only holding her gaze for a moment before turning back to Daniel. "Any coffee left?"
"Sure, Jack," replied Daniel, pouring some coffee and handing it to Jack.
They ate their breakfast in relative silence, though there was a brief argument when Jack held out some painkillers for Sam. He finally told her he would order her to take them, so she acquiesced, but she wasn't happy with the tone he was taking with her, something just seemed off.
"Alright, let's pack up," said Jack after they finished. "Hammond is expecting us back in two hours."
"Uh, I need to…" said Sam.
"To what?" queried Jack.
"Bathroom."
"Oh, right. You'll need help to get to the spot we're using; I'll take you."
"Thanks, Sir," she said gratefully, placing her right arm around his neck and leaning on him for support, so that her hurt ankle didn't take much weight.
*
"Okay, Carter, there you go, I'll be back in five."
"Thanks," she smiled as he walked away.
Sam was surprised when it wasn't Colonel O'Neill who came to help her back to the camp; it was Daniel.
"Is the Colonel busy?" she asked as she leaned on Daniel.
"He's
helping Teal'c pack the tents."
"Daniel, do you notice something wrong with him today?"
"Teal'c?"
"No, Colonel O'Neill."
"Uh, no, not really."
"Daniel."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with him in relation to me," said Daniel.
"Meaning you have noticed something wrong with him… in relation to me, right?"
"No, no, that's not what I meant at all."
"Daniel, it's alright, I know there's something wrong. He hardly said two words to me over breakfast or when we helped me to here. I wish I knew what I'm supposed to have done though."
"You don't know?"
"No. I mean, everything seemed fine last night."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Why, do you know something I don't?"
"He's pissed at you, Sam."
"What? Why?" Sam stopped walking, meaning Daniel had to stop as well, and she looked at him carefully. "Daniel?"
"You didn't tell him you were hurt."
"What? Why would he pissed about that? And, if he is, why didn't he say something last night?"
"I don't know why he didn't say anything last night; I actually asked him that when we talked this morning before you woke up, but he just said there had been other things to do." Sam dipped her head as she remembered the vomiting incident. "As for why he's pissed, think about it, Sam."
"What does that mean?"
"Sam, you know Jack, you know what he's like when someone on his team gets hurt."
"Daniel, it's just my ankle."
"Yeah, but… Why didn't you tell us, Sam?"
"I don't know, Daniel, I just didn't see the need."
He gave her a very skeptical look, but let the comment pass.
"You should talk to him."
"He obviously doesn't want to talk to me so, what's the point?"
"The point is that you need to sort this out. Sam, this isn't some stiff military base on which you only know people by rank and where you can't trust anyone but yourself. This is us, your teammates and friends; you can trust us. And, before you say it," he continued, raising a hand to stop Sam from interrupting, "yes, in the first place, Jack is your CO, but next to that he's also your friend and he cares about what happens to you, just like the rest of us."
"And there really is no other way around it?"
"Bottom line? No."
"I still don't get it, though. I mean, it's not like I'm heavily injured. If that were the case, I could understand his behavior, but I just hurt my ankle; all this over a stupid accident?!"
Daniel sighed in exasperation.
"Sam."
"Alright, alright, I'll talk to him, or I'll try," she answered dejectedly.
"Thanks. Come on, let's get back before they send a search party."
*
"Alright, let's head out," said Jack once everything was packed up and the area returned to its original state. The other three SG-1 members nodded. "Daniel, help Carter, would you?"
"Sam, I thought you were gonna talk to him?" said Daniel quietly as he helped Sam start walking towards the 'gate.
"I haven't had a chance, Daniel."
"You'll talk to him when we get back though, right?"
"I don't know," she admitted. At Daniel's accusing look, she continued, "I might not need to, whatever is bothering him might just go away."
"It won't."
"Daniel, what do you know? What has he said to you?"
"He hasn't said much, Sam, but I'm pretty sure I know what's bothering him and it won't just go away."
"I'll try and talk to him when we get back, okay?"
"Make sure you do, Sam, for your own sake… and for his."
*
"Sir?"
Jack looked up from his paperwork-strewn desk and looked at her.
"Carter, what can I do for you?" he asked in a nonchalant tone.
"I, uh… Do you mind if I sit down?"
"No, of course not; sorry, I should have offered, given your ankle."
"It's okay, Sir," she smiled, closing the office door and sitting down opposite him.
"So, what do you need?"
He was giving her his attention, but his eyes kept flicking back to his desk, avoiding her gaze.
"Sir, have I done something to offend you?" she asked bluntly, her words surprising Jack completely.
"Offend me? What makes you ask that?"
Though he sounded surprised, Sam heard the 'uh oh' tone in his voice and knew he wasn't looking forward to her confronting him.
"Ever since I woke up this morning, you've been distant with me, Sir." Jack said nothing, but he met her eyes and merely raised his eyebrows questioningly. "It feels like you have some kind of problem with me, but I'm afraid I have no idea what it is; can you please enlighten me so that we can sort it out?"
"I don't have a problem with you, Carter," said Jack carefully.
"Sir, with all due respect, I don't believe you."
"Be careful, Carter," he warned.
"Sir, please, I need to know what I've done wrong, because I honestly don't have a clue."
Her voice was beginning to waver and she tried to convince herself it was simply because she was still in pain; however, she knew it was because she couldn't believe she was having to have this conversation. Jack looked at her for a moment before letting his eyes fall back to his desk.
"You haven't offended me, Carter, you've disappointed me."
The word was the most hurtful Sam could have imagined; he had just told her she'd done the one thing she always vowed she'd never do.
"How?" she managed to ask, her voice cracking even on such a small word.
"You lied to me." He raised his eyes and met her own as he spoke, his tone measured and calm, adding to her inner turmoil.
"Sir?"
"You told me you weren't hurt, Carter, yet I see a bandage on your ankle; wonder what that's for, since you're not hurt?" he said sarcastically.
"That's what you're mad about?" asked Sam incredulously.
"I'm not mad," he stated. At Carter's look, he amended the statement by saying, "I'm pissed, there's a difference." Sam didn't know what to say, so she remained silent. "Why did you lie, Carter?"
"Sir, is this really a big deal? It's just an ankle injury."
"Yeah, it's just an ankle injury, but you didn't tell me about it. What if it was something more serious, would you not have told me about that either? What was the problem, did you think I would laugh at you?" he ranted.
"You did laugh at me, Sir," Sam pointed out, trying to diffuse some of the tension.
"I wouldn't have if I'd known you were hurt."
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I really don't get what the problem is."
"Carter, when you're hurt, you're supposed to report it. How am I supposed to write up the mission report and say that I didn't know you were injured until hours after it happened, by which time you'd walked on the injury and probably made it a lot worse? How is that going to look? Think it's going to make me seem a good CO?"
"You're pissed because I've made you look like a bad CO? Sir, if I have, then I'm sorry, but I really don't think anyone will think that… anyone who does obviously doesn't know you, so what do they matter? The only people reading your reports who don't know you are those in Washington and, forgive my bluntness, Sir, but you don't normally care what they think."
"I don't care what they think about me, Carter, but it's more than my reputation that can be affected by something like this."
"Sir?"
"Carter, you know better than to hide an injury, yet you did; how is that going to look?"
"I don't know, Sir," she admitted, "not too good, I guess."
"No, not too good. Hammond is already questioning what happened."
"He is?" asked Sam with surprise; General Hammond had not asked too many questions during the briefing.
"Yeah, he kept the briefing short so that you could go rest, but I then got the third degree about why I didn't know you were injured."
Sam looked at him and realized there was an air of hurt in his demeanor and it was slightly evident in his tone.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I don't know why I didn't tell you."
"You sure?"
"Sir?"
"Carter, I need to know if there was a reason you didn't tell me. If there's a problem, it could affect the team and our priorities and I can't let that happen."
Sam had to try hard to stifle a chuckle and Jack shot her an annoyed look.
"Sorry, Sir, it's just I came in here to ask if you had a problem with me, yet you've now turned it around to ask if I have a problem with you."
Jack gave in to his own grin and joined Sam in laughing, but he quickly became serious again.
"Carter, I need to know; why didn't you tell me you were injured?"
"I wasn't that hurt, I was fine," she shrugged.
"You do trust me though, right?"
Sam met his eyes with shock, disbelief written all over her face.
"With my life, Sir," she answered seriously.
"But not with what you think are minor injuries," he said so quietly that Sam almost didn't hear.
"Sir, I'm sorry and I'll make sure my mission report does not reflect badly on you –"
"I don't care about how it reflects on me, Carter," he interrupted to say.
"I know, Sir, but I'll include the reason why I didn't report the injury – that I thought I could handle it and I wanted to get back to the 'gate that night, but knew we wouldn't make it if we had to stop to strap my ankle and I also knew you'd slow the pace if I was injured."
"Don't worry about it, Carter, just write your mission report as normal and Hammond and I will deal with the rest."
Sam nodded, but didn't attempt to stand.
"Sir?" she said hesitantly. At his look, she continued, "If you were pissed at me for not telling you I was injured…"
"Yeah?" he prompted.
"Why did you help me?"
"What?"
"When I finally told you about my ankle, you didn't seem pissed, you helped me out, no questions asked and it was the same that night, when I threw up, you were great about it all; I don't get why you were like that then, but you were totally different this morning."
"When you first told me, my instincts kicked in and I did what I needed to do to get your ankle strapped," he said honestly, placing his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his hands. "When I took my watch, I was thinking about things and I was pretty pissed and I wouldn't have changed from that if you hadn't been awake and then going into shock. Since you were, my instincts took over again but, once you were sorted out, I started trying to work out why you hadn't told me."
"And you jumped to the wrong conclusion," she commented.
"What conclusion was I supposed to reach, Carter?" he said testily, "It wasn't like you were forthcoming with anything, was it?"
"You could have just asked me then though, Sir, rather than brooding about it."
His eyes shot up again to meet hers.
"Brooding?"
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I mean… I…"
"Carter, just forget it."
"No, brooding was the wrong word, but you should have talked to me, Sir."
"And you'd have told me the reason?" he asked skeptically.
"Well… uh…"
"As I thought, Carter."
"I guess we're both as bad as each other," she shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Yeah," he agreed, a grin breaking out over his face as he added, "I bet Hammond just loves us, the CO and second-in-command of the flagship team and neither one of us follows the golden rule of communication between team members."
"We communicate in our own way, Sir," said Sam before her brain could stop her.
Jack looked at her, but just smiled and nodded slightly.
"You heading home?" he asked suddenly.
"Yeah."
"Need a ride?"
"I'll be okay, I'll get an airman to take me."
"Carter, I'll take you," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"You look like you still have a lot of paperwork to get through, Sir."
"It'll still be here in the morning, unfortunately."
"I thought you were on downtime as of tomorrow?"
"I was, until Hammond realized I hadn't finished the monthly reports."
"Uh, Sir, it's only the middle of the month, the reports aren't due until the end of the month."
"This month's are, yes," he smiled, "But these are last month's," he said, indicating the paperwork stacked on his desk.
"Ah, well, in that case, shouldn't you just work until you finish them, so you don't have to come back in tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I probably should," he shrugged, "But, I've never been one to do the sensible thing so, come on, Carter, let's get you home."
"You really
don't have to drive me home, Sir."
"Carter, like I said earlier, I want, no, I need to be able to do something to help, it's in my nature."
Sam nodded and waited for him to shrug on his jacket and hold the door open for her to pass.
"Sir, you're right, there was another reason," she said softly as she reached the door. He turned sharply and looked at her, but remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. "I was worried I'd disappoint you by telling you," she admitted, "which I guess is kind of crazy since you said I disappointed you by not telling you; don't you just love 'catch 22s'?"
"Why would you have disappointed me by telling me?" he asked, thoroughly confused and making no move to leave his office.
"I slipped and fell because I wasn't really looking where I was going, I wasn't concentrating."
"I should have warned you though, I was probably blocking your view."
A slight blush crept onto Sam's cheeks, which Jack immediately noticed. A smile emerged on his face as he realized what she had actually been concentrating on at the time of her fall.
"Come on, let's get you home," he said by way of a subject change, much to Sam's relief.
"Sir, about earlier," she said quietly as they walked towards her lab so she could grab her stuff, "Are we good?"
Jack looked at her for a moment as they walked and then nodded.
"We're good," he replied softly.
**
The End
