Disclaimer: See default chapter
Chapter Six: Fog
The only sound in the SGC infirmary at 0200 was the steady beep of the monitor hooked up to Colonel Jack O'Neill, and the occasional sniffling cough from his watcher and constant companion.
Sam shifted in the only moderately comfortable chair the infirmary night staff was able to find, and wiped her sore nose with a tissue. She hadn't left the room, except for quick trips to the head, for almost thirty-five hours. The first few hours she had slept in a bed across the room, hooked to a rehydrating IV full of a great cocktail of antibiotics and anti- inflammatory medication. But once her fever broke, and she was only left with a lingering cough and the occasional sneeze, she took up residence beside him.
She thought about all the times she had been the one in the bed. Never once could she recall opening her eyes for the first time, no matter what ailment or injury had put her in the infirmary, that Jack wasn't there. Watching. Waiting. Making sure she was okay.
Offering promises of cake.
Sam smiled.
"You really should get some rest, Major Carter."
Sam looked up at the night duty nurse, a young brunette woman who had been transferred to the SG-C after Janet's death. A tightening moved through Sam's chest at the thought of her absent friend. She looked to Jack, his features softened peacefully in sleep. It had hurt, more than she ever imagined when she lost Janet... and for those few fleeting moments... thought she had lost Jack, too. If she had lost them both... if she lost him now...
She swallowed back the emotion. "I will. If I get too tired, I'll just lie down. I promise."
The nurse nodded and left her alone again.
Sam stood and moved to the side of Jack's bed. The primitive chief on P3X- 453 had done a lot of damage, more than could be seen. The cuts and abrasions on his face and neck minor implications of the sever concussion the multiple rock blows to his skull had caused. A blood vessel in his right eye had been broken, though the doctor told Sam the redness of the pooled blood had begun to diminish. He had three cracked ribs, and severely torn cartilage in his left knee.
All for her.
She glanced around the infirmary, just to make sure she was truly alone. As alone as a person could be at the SGC, with security cameras in the corner of every room. But right now, she didn't care what they did or didn't see. Gently, to not wake him if his body still needed the sleep, she stroked his forehead. The lines of age were relaxed, nearly gone, when he slept.
Sam pressed her fingertips to her lips, and then pressed the kiss to his forehead. It was the best she could do.
Wiping the seemingly ever-present moisture from her cheeks, she turned back to her chair. The surprising touch of his fingers curling around her hand stopped her, and she looked back.
Sleepy eyes looked at her, a soft smile on his lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice rough and low.
"Hey." Sam couldn't control the smile that she felt spread her lips. "Welcome back."
One corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin. "Couldn't stay in Oz forever."
Sam sighed a chuckle. She stroked his forehead and hair, forgetting that the cameras were on her and some airman somewhere was probably watching her with rapt attention.
"How long..."
"We came through the gate about thirty-six hours ago."
Jack nodded, and she could see his eyelids were heavy. He turned his face into her palm, the unshaved whiskers of his cheeks rubbing her skin. Then his eyes popped open again.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. You should rest."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Which one of us is in the bed, huh, sir?"
Jack smiled, and some of her tension eased away. He drew in a deep breath, and hissed out a moan. "Ow. That hurts."
"Broken ribs."
"That guy fought haaaard," he said, dragging out the last word. "Guess he had something worth fighting for."
Warmth rushed over her body, sending shivers up her spine. A different kind of fever from the one that had plagued her on the planet. Sam pressed her thumb against his lips. "Shhhh, sir. You should go back to sleep."
His eyes drifted closed again, but before his breathing fell back into the steady rhythm of sleep, his lips pursed against her thumb. Sam's heart pounded fiercely in her chest, and she stepped back. She was in the hall, heading towards her on-base quarters before indulging in the desire to press her thumb against her own lips.
Chapter Six: Fog
The only sound in the SGC infirmary at 0200 was the steady beep of the monitor hooked up to Colonel Jack O'Neill, and the occasional sniffling cough from his watcher and constant companion.
Sam shifted in the only moderately comfortable chair the infirmary night staff was able to find, and wiped her sore nose with a tissue. She hadn't left the room, except for quick trips to the head, for almost thirty-five hours. The first few hours she had slept in a bed across the room, hooked to a rehydrating IV full of a great cocktail of antibiotics and anti- inflammatory medication. But once her fever broke, and she was only left with a lingering cough and the occasional sneeze, she took up residence beside him.
She thought about all the times she had been the one in the bed. Never once could she recall opening her eyes for the first time, no matter what ailment or injury had put her in the infirmary, that Jack wasn't there. Watching. Waiting. Making sure she was okay.
Offering promises of cake.
Sam smiled.
"You really should get some rest, Major Carter."
Sam looked up at the night duty nurse, a young brunette woman who had been transferred to the SG-C after Janet's death. A tightening moved through Sam's chest at the thought of her absent friend. She looked to Jack, his features softened peacefully in sleep. It had hurt, more than she ever imagined when she lost Janet... and for those few fleeting moments... thought she had lost Jack, too. If she had lost them both... if she lost him now...
She swallowed back the emotion. "I will. If I get too tired, I'll just lie down. I promise."
The nurse nodded and left her alone again.
Sam stood and moved to the side of Jack's bed. The primitive chief on P3X- 453 had done a lot of damage, more than could be seen. The cuts and abrasions on his face and neck minor implications of the sever concussion the multiple rock blows to his skull had caused. A blood vessel in his right eye had been broken, though the doctor told Sam the redness of the pooled blood had begun to diminish. He had three cracked ribs, and severely torn cartilage in his left knee.
All for her.
She glanced around the infirmary, just to make sure she was truly alone. As alone as a person could be at the SGC, with security cameras in the corner of every room. But right now, she didn't care what they did or didn't see. Gently, to not wake him if his body still needed the sleep, she stroked his forehead. The lines of age were relaxed, nearly gone, when he slept.
Sam pressed her fingertips to her lips, and then pressed the kiss to his forehead. It was the best she could do.
Wiping the seemingly ever-present moisture from her cheeks, she turned back to her chair. The surprising touch of his fingers curling around her hand stopped her, and she looked back.
Sleepy eyes looked at her, a soft smile on his lips.
"Hey," he said, his voice rough and low.
"Hey." Sam couldn't control the smile that she felt spread her lips. "Welcome back."
One corner of his mouth turned up in a cocky grin. "Couldn't stay in Oz forever."
Sam sighed a chuckle. She stroked his forehead and hair, forgetting that the cameras were on her and some airman somewhere was probably watching her with rapt attention.
"How long..."
"We came through the gate about thirty-six hours ago."
Jack nodded, and she could see his eyelids were heavy. He turned his face into her palm, the unshaved whiskers of his cheeks rubbing her skin. Then his eyes popped open again.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. You should rest."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Which one of us is in the bed, huh, sir?"
Jack smiled, and some of her tension eased away. He drew in a deep breath, and hissed out a moan. "Ow. That hurts."
"Broken ribs."
"That guy fought haaaard," he said, dragging out the last word. "Guess he had something worth fighting for."
Warmth rushed over her body, sending shivers up her spine. A different kind of fever from the one that had plagued her on the planet. Sam pressed her thumb against his lips. "Shhhh, sir. You should go back to sleep."
His eyes drifted closed again, but before his breathing fell back into the steady rhythm of sleep, his lips pursed against her thumb. Sam's heart pounded fiercely in her chest, and she stepped back. She was in the hall, heading towards her on-base quarters before indulging in the desire to press her thumb against her own lips.