AN: I absolutely hate this chapter. I think I've moved too fast and tried to end it. I haven't got any of the characteristics of these characters right. I can't help it!!!
She stepped into the darkened infirmary and pinched the bridge of her nose. The long, tiring, stressful trip back from the planet had given Sam a headache. She had sat at the front of the ship with the not-so-smug Tok'ra, leaving Teal'c, Jonas and Smug Tok'ra to talk with Jack about his time on the planet.
Naturally they hadn't gotten much out of him – Jonas had taken it upon himself to inform her of every little detail of the conversations he'd had with Jack. Sometimes the 'brief outline' was so detailed that Sam wondered if he had sat and taken notes throughout it. But what Jonas didn't realise, was that Sam had chosen to sit at the front to be away from Jack, not that she was looking over schematics of the ship like they had all believed. Then there was the conversation with Angela. General Hammond really must have it in for me, Sam thought on more than one occasion during the conversation with the world's wildest witch. Sam told her that Jack had been found and was currently being treated in an Air Force hospital, namely the base infirmary.
"Can I see him?"
"No."
"Why not."
"Secured medical centre, I'm sorry General Hammond just called me, must go. You will be allowed to see him when he is transferred. Goodbye."
That was about the extent of their conversation.
Sam had lied when she said General Hammond had called her, it had, in fact, been Janet in the infirmary to tell her that Colonel O'Neill was demanding to speak with her and if she didn't so help me God…
So now she was here, standing having an inner debate with herself about whether or not to go in. The compassionate part of her brain won out and she took a step in then immediately regretted her decision and she turned to leave.
"Carter," she heard his voice call to her and she froze in her movements, her eyes squeezing shut and her lips compressing together.
"Sir," she said quietly even though she knew he wouldn't be able to hear her. She turned and walked towards him and when she reached the bottom of his bed she stopped and stared down at him with a forced smile.
His arms were skeletally thin, as well as his body and she almost let out a choked sob. Instead she glanced away up the corridor then sat on the bottom of his bed with her back angled towards him and her head turned to look at him. She had done this to him. She had reduced him to this… structure that could be used to teach five-year-olds about the human skeleton.
"How are you feeling, sir?" She asked in a hushed tone as though afraid to hear the answer or too afraid to actually speak to him.
"Not as bad as you all seem to think," was his quick response but Sam didn't buy it.
She looked at him: the pinched lines were still visible on the contours of his forehead; the haunted look still present in his eyes. It didn't add up. How could he possibly think that everything was okay?
She saw the look of defeat appear in his eyes as he realised she knew him too well to fall for his act. She smiled slightly and placed a hand over is feet, then quickly removed it.
"What have you been up to, Carter? Haven't seen you around," he said with the slight hint of accusation in his tone.
"I spoke to Angela today. She's been really worried about you," Sam says eventually.
He stared at her with a confused expression on his face then he nods. Then he nodded a little.
"How is she?" He asked with little concern in his voice.
"She's been a bit stressed out, worked up, you know how it is when someone you love is missing," Sam said the last part then could have kicked herself because she realised just *how* clichéd it actually sounded. Clichéd but true, her brain added.
He looked at her and smiled slightly.
"I know that feeling… I missed you." He looked up at her again and she looked away from the absolute truth that was in his eyes.
"Why did you do it?" She asked at length after a long, unhealthy silence.
"Do what? Try and make your life that much better? You know why."
She could have hit him. She felt like taking her right fist and introducing it to his jaw. Making her life better? Did he think that she needed to continually torture herself about him to make her life better? Did he think he was doing her a favour by driving her to the ground?
Her face was growing hot and she knew it, could see the red tip of her nose and could see the look of shock on his face.
"Sir, you jeopardised your life to bring back my father for *personal* reasons. You could be court marshalled."
He laughed at that.
"That's what's been eating your pants since we got back? Scared that I won't have a job when I got back? I was thinking of retiring anyway."
She stared at him and wondered at what he meant.
"To spend more time with Angela. Of course." Sam spat the name out as though it were venom and then instantly regretted it because he frowned and continued to then raise an eyebrow.
He coughed but did not respond to her last statement.
"I'm going to start talking so please, just listen to me." She adjusted her position on the bed and settled down for what she believed was going to be a long story. "When I was on that planet, I knew that you would be looking for me. I didn't even think about it, the thought just came to me. When I was being tortured, do you know what I was thinking?" She shook her head. "I hope that Dad is okay. Not 'I hope Angela is okay.' And when I was lying at night, recovering, I was thinking about all the times that you had come back and rescued me…" She stood up and stared down at him indignantly. "Listen to me. I never say this much; not even to myself. But it's true. And it made me realise how much I'd miss being here everyday, with these people. Not how much I would miss Angela because, I wouldn't really."
Sam looked at him in shock and was about to admonish him when he looked at her and smiled.
"Well I would but… not to the same extent. Angela… was a relief… from everything: From us, from the team, from Daniel… ascending, from wanting you. I thought that if I tried to love someone else, then I could work here. But it only made it worse. The pain on your face… that I had caused. It hurt me more than I could ever have thought." He ducked his head down and Sam could see the formation of tears at the corners of his eyes. This was so Un-O'Neill it was unbelievable. Something truly terrible must have happened to him on the planet.
Sam remembered when he had first introduced them to Angela. Each millilitre of her blood seemed to drop to her feet and her heart gained a few extra tonnes, her muscles – her bones felt like she had just spent the night in Antarctica with no blanket and no Colonel. She had never felt as empty in her entire life: even when her mother had died. Then she was too young to really understand it.
"Why did you push me away?" she asked, with a confused tone after sensing that he was ready to continue talking.
He looked at her with a sallow face and dark eyes and she choked back a sob at the sight of him.
"To help you. We both had to move on – or that's what I believed at the time. Now I'm not so sure. I know now what it feels like to miss you. And when I think about it, I've been missing you… us since long before I met Angela."
She didn't know why she did it but Sam leaned forward and brushed her lips past his and when his hand held the back of her neck she didn't pull out of it. She let it happen. She had stored this moment in her mind for so long for it not to happen again. Now that it was happening she felt exhilarated, like some weight had been lifted from her chest.
Then she pulled back and the weight came crashed back down – or more accurately she came crashing down out of the clouds and into this weight that seemed to have doubled since she left moments before.
She closed her eyes, regretting instantly her decision to lean forward in the first place.
She let her eyes fill with tears and stood up.
"Sam?" Jack asked from his place on the bed his hand still lingering somewhere near where her head had been.
"I have to go."
And she fled. She ran down the corridor towards her quarters and when she reached them she slammed the door and threw herself onto the bed like a teenager in tears. And that is exactly how she felt.
She lay there, facing her soaked pillow for the rest of the night, ignoring the knocks on her door from concerned members of staff – Jonas and Janet - who had seen her dash from the infirmary from their 'meeting' place, which seemed to be dangerously close to O'Neill's bed.
Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe it was a dream and when she opened her eyes it would not have happened. But she knew that wouldn't happen because when she did eventually open her eyes, she could still taste him in her mouth. She cried as she thought about it again. She cried again and again and again. The weight in her heart seemed to be suffocating her and her rational mind began to make her realise what had just happened.
She had just signed her own death
warrant. And that could not possibly be good.
We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
I might take you home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more?
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?