By popular demand...or...some demand...hope it doesn't disappoint!
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Jack O'Neill sat up straight and stretched, managing to hold back a yawn. He'd been sat on his Second In Command's couch for two hours now, watching a movie and eating pizza. He had managed to resist a beer as he had to drive home. He looked over to the chair, where Sam Carter was sitting, and smiled. "Why don't you have some pizza?"
"No you finish it sir, I'm not all that hungry," She smiled back, and then turned her attention to the t.v. screen again.
"I've eaten my half. You haven't even started yours," he said, pushing as gently as he could. She needed to regain her strength, and she wasn't going to do that with an empty stomach.
"I'm really not hungry, sir..." she began, but looking at his expression, she sighed and took a slice from the box that was lay on the floor between them. She took a bite, and then asked "There. Are you happy now, Colonel?"
"Ecstatic," He nodded. "I don't need a skeleton for a second in command, Carter. Listen, I hate to bring this subject back up, when I'm sure you're desperately trying to get away from it, but, you're pale, you're quiet, no appetite, and I'm concerned for you. I am requesting that you do talk to someone about your ordeal."
"I'm telling you it wasn't an ordeal. When it actually happens, that's an ordeal," Sam insisted once again. She did not want to give him the impression she was weak.
"He semi-succeeded. Now that does make it an ordeal in my book. Choose someone you feel comfortable with, if there is anyone in the Project, but please, just get help," He urged.
"I will, I will," She sighed, starting to get up. "I told you I will."
"Hey, if you want another beer I can get it," Jack offered, knowing she probably didn't want to get up.
"Thanks," She nodded, sitting back down, and pressing the mute button. She had been through several drinks, not all of them beer, drinking them in mere seconds.
She opened this can and it was gone in a similar time.
He winced, wondering how many times she would wash her face again after he'd gone, how many drinks she would have, how many showers. She had already washed her face at least three times while he had been there, disappearing off down the hall.
When she put the beer down he noticed her hand shaking. He felt rather akward, not really knowing what he should do.
"I'm going to write down my home number," he told her, walking over to the phone and picking up the pen and notepad. "There. I'm trusting that you'll call me if you need to."
"I won't need to," she replied, but then added, "thank you."
"Book the week, Carter. Come in and talk to Janet, but just relax. Take it easy," he commanded. "I'm pulling rank here."
"Yes sir," she agreed reluctantly, getting up again.
"I don't think you should wash your face again, it's bright red. Angry." He commented, wishing he hadn't.
"Then it's going to get angrier," she replied, pausing. "I just...I just feel like I'm never going to get clean, never get his scent off of me."
Jack nodded, and stepped over to her, putting out his arms, silently. She sniffed, screwed her eyes shut and walked in to the hug, finally feeling a little safer, now she was in his arms.
"This never happened," he told her with a smile. "Tell Daniel and he'll be wanting hugs too...that just could not work for me."
"I promise I won't tell, sir," She laughed, and then followed it up with a sniff. "Your secret is safe with me – no one will know that you're really a very nice guy."
"Thanks," he nodded, and let go of her. "Umm, I should probably get going. Are you positive you'll be alright?" He didn't like leaving her by herself when she was in such a state. He was tempted to just refuse to leave and tell her he was pitching a tent in her living room. It wasn't like there was anybody waiting for him at home.
Sam saw the hurt in his eyes as he tried to banish that thought, and she smiled sadly. "Are you okay, sir?"
"I'm fine," he replied. "Carter...I don't want to be pushy. And if you don't feel safe having me here...I understand that, really, I do, and I'll go. But I really wish you wouldn't be alone. Maybe I should sleep on the couch?"
"I don't want to keep you from getting home...you probably have someone waiting for you," Sam began, and watched as Jack's face fell. "I'm sorry...what did I say?"
"It's nothing. I don't have anyone waiting on me, Sam," He shrugged it off, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. "Nobody at all."
"In that case..." Sam said, obviously thinking seriously about it. "Would you mind?"
"I've been offering for at least two and a half hours, Sam, I'm not going to say no, now, am I?" He chuckled, a hand on her shoulder. "Okay, so, where are the sheets and stuff?"
"Guest bed is made up already," the blonde replied, leading him down the hall. She opened the door to the room opposite the guest room, and said, "My brother and friends sometimes visit so I keep it ready. That's the bathroom, obviously."
"Great," he nodded. "Nice house you have, by the way. Pretty."
"Thank you sir," Sam replied, leading him back down the hall to the living room. She fell back down on to the couch, and he sat down in the armchair. "I like it. It's enough for one person, and it's in a good location for work."
Jack reached over to the coffee table and picked up a photo frame. Inside it was a picture of a woman who looked very much like Carter, but around 45 years old, with a tall balding man, a skinny looking boy of around 14, and a beautiful little girl, of about 8 or 9. He smiled as he realised the girl was her. "Cute." When he saw her begin to cry again, he added, "sorry. I shouldn't be nosey."
"It's not that..." she sighed. "Well, I do miss my mom. She died when I was fourteen. But..."
"I'm so sorry."
"Me too."
There was silence for a moment, and then Jack disappeared off in to the kitchen, returning with a beer. She had told him he could have whatever he wanted out of the fridge when he had arrived. "As I'm not driving home...do you want one? Or anything else?"
"I think I'd better not," She replied. "I've drank quite enough tonight. I don't usually touch alcohol. Not often anyway. Uh, I think I'm going to go to bed. I'm exhausted from the fight, and all..."
"I bet," he smiled. "Call if you need anything. You know where I'll be."
"Thank you, sir," Carter said, before padding off down the hall. He heard her walking around for a few more minutes, and then a door shut. When he went down to his own room, after he'd finished his beer, he saw that her light was off. He could hear feint crying, but decided to leave her be.
He stripped down in to his boxers and vest and dived under the covers, glad to be in bed at last. It had been a stressful and tiring mission. It took him a while to get off to sleep, he was too busy thinking. He must have gotten to sleep eventually though, because when he woke up the clock told him it was now 4am.
He frowned, trying to work out what had woken him up. He soon realised it was the sound of yelling, coming from the occupant of the next room. He jumped out of bed and put on his trousers, and hurried out of his room, and into Sam's. He turned on the lamp beside the bed, and walked around it so that he was kneeling beside her. He put a gentle hand on her arm, "Carter. Carter, wake up." She continued to toss and turn. "Sam."
She sat up suddenly, eyes snapping open. She struggled to breathe, and then calmed herself. "Colonel?" She said.
"I'm here, Carter," he told her softly. "I'm here. I'm guessing you had a pretty intense nightmare?" She nodded. "Wanna talk about it? You don't have to, but you can if you want."
"No," she sighed. "Thank you." Jack untangeled the bedspread and covered her with it. "Thanks..." There were tears welling in her eyes, and Jack could tell she was doing her best to stop them from falling.
"Carter, let it out," he said, rising and sitting on the middle of the bed. She paused for a moment, and then she couldn't hold it in any longer. She leaned forward, burying her head in his chest, and began to cry again. "Shh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, you're safe now."
And she believed him.