It was a beautiful planet they'd found themselves on. The two suns shone benevolently out of a lavender sky. It was warm, but not hot. The wind rustled through the towering orange and green trees, filling the air with a constant soft murmur. The white grass was waist high, but silent as it waved in the breeze. The planet was untouched by Gou'ald or humans, or by any other race, as far as they could tell. Sam was gathering soil and vegetation samples to ascertain if the planet was suitable for a new beta site.
Jack laid back, and sunbathed. And thought, a lot. Mostly about what Janet had told him soon after Sam had come back from P69-522X, while she was still recovering. Sam happily gathered samples, and wandered farther and farther away from him, until she was far enough away that he couldn't see what she was doing.
The voices had started again. Dr Marlin's high pitched scream. Anubis looking round at her, the Jaffa shouting harsh orders at each other.
She struggled with the child-proof cap, getting more and more annoyed, until she twisted it the wrong way, and the bottle flew out of her hands.
It landed at Jack's feet. He picked up the bottle, and looked at the label. His expression darkened.
"These are not good, Carter. Believe me, I know."
"They were prescribed for me." she said, not moving, her eyes on the bottle.
"Not by Janet."
"By Dr. Warner. Janet was away, and I went to him, and I told him I was still shaken, and hearing voices, and he diagnosed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and gave me those. Can I have them back, please?"
He didn't give them back.
"The date on these is only a week ago, and you're supposed to take one a day. But the bottle is half-empty already. And I'll bet this is your second prescription, isn't it?"
"The date's wrong. Colonel, please..."
"No, the dates not wrong." He said softly. "You finished the first bottle early, and you went to him, and told him you'd lost it, and he gave you a second bottle, didn't he?"
"No. Please give them back" she pleaded. He went on, inexorably.
"I know you did, it's what I did once." He opened the bottle, manipulating the cap without even looking. "Soon you'll be able to open them in your sleep. You'll have to because that's when the voices come."
It was so silent on that planet, except for the rustling in the trees that had masked Jack's footsteps, except for the screaming in Sam's head. She looked at him, hardly daring to look in his eyes, to see the disappointment she knew must be there.
But his eyes were soft, and warm, and understanding, and all he said was,
"Oh, Sam."
The bastard! She'd known he'd find out, and she'd been prepared to fight him. Meet anger with anger, recrimination with recrimination, accusation with accusation. But she could never fight his gentleness, his unexpected tenderness.
She had nothing to say in reply to him. Instead, he stepped forward, murmuring,
"It's alright" and he held her, tightly, and she collapsed, crying in his arms, in the one place she knew she was safe.
Jack laid back, and sunbathed. And thought, a lot. Mostly about what Janet had told him soon after Sam had come back from P69-522X, while she was still recovering. Sam happily gathered samples, and wandered farther and farther away from him, until she was far enough away that he couldn't see what she was doing.
The voices had started again. Dr Marlin's high pitched scream. Anubis looking round at her, the Jaffa shouting harsh orders at each other.
She struggled with the child-proof cap, getting more and more annoyed, until she twisted it the wrong way, and the bottle flew out of her hands.
It landed at Jack's feet. He picked up the bottle, and looked at the label. His expression darkened.
"These are not good, Carter. Believe me, I know."
"They were prescribed for me." she said, not moving, her eyes on the bottle.
"Not by Janet."
"By Dr. Warner. Janet was away, and I went to him, and I told him I was still shaken, and hearing voices, and he diagnosed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and gave me those. Can I have them back, please?"
He didn't give them back.
"The date on these is only a week ago, and you're supposed to take one a day. But the bottle is half-empty already. And I'll bet this is your second prescription, isn't it?"
"The date's wrong. Colonel, please..."
"No, the dates not wrong." He said softly. "You finished the first bottle early, and you went to him, and told him you'd lost it, and he gave you a second bottle, didn't he?"
"No. Please give them back" she pleaded. He went on, inexorably.
"I know you did, it's what I did once." He opened the bottle, manipulating the cap without even looking. "Soon you'll be able to open them in your sleep. You'll have to because that's when the voices come."
It was so silent on that planet, except for the rustling in the trees that had masked Jack's footsteps, except for the screaming in Sam's head. She looked at him, hardly daring to look in his eyes, to see the disappointment she knew must be there.
But his eyes were soft, and warm, and understanding, and all he said was,
"Oh, Sam."
The bastard! She'd known he'd find out, and she'd been prepared to fight him. Meet anger with anger, recrimination with recrimination, accusation with accusation. But she could never fight his gentleness, his unexpected tenderness.
She had nothing to say in reply to him. Instead, he stepped forward, murmuring,
"It's alright" and he held her, tightly, and she collapsed, crying in his arms, in the one place she knew she was safe.