Afterwards, she lay back against him.
Weak and exhausted after having done so little.
"Jack?"
"Mmmhmmm?"
"Thank you," she sent him a drowsy thanks as she slipped back into sleep.
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Ch 43: MORTALITY
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He awoke the next morning to the comfortable warmth of her in his arms.
As he'd done each of the previous mornings, he listened carefully for her breaths.
And this time, they were stronger.
More definite. More full.
He savored a few moments in the early morning quiet, listening and feeling her slow and even breaths.
Mentally he tallied the days.
This was the fourth morning after his trip down the river.
She was improving.
Marginally, but incrementally each time she woke up.
She moved in her sleep and his heart warmed hopefully.
She seemed to be sleeping more normally now.
No longer in the coma-like unconsciousness of the first three days.
He relaxed and watched her as the early morning light slowly brightened.
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"Mm..," she made a soft sound and moved again in his arms.
"Good morning," he said softly.
Her eyes blinked and then focused on him. "Morning," and she gave him a soft smile.
"How do you feel?" he asked that same old question.
And she rolled her eyes, "Still tired, but better," she assured him.
He gave her a small grin and then slid out from under the covers. "I'll get the fire going and whip up a little breakfast," as he pulled on some warmer clothes.
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With hot food and drinks for both of them, he made his way back into the tent to find that she was still awake and had actually pulled herself up to lean against the stack of gear.
He gave her a smile, "Feeling better?"
She nodded and then added, "Before I eat anything though... I need to...," and her voice trailed off and he looked at her questioningly and she grimaced and looked a bit embarrassed. And it dawned on him.
"Right, of course," he replied and kept his tone casual, because he knew that she wasn't embarrassed about having to use the facilities, she was embarrassed about needing help.
"It's just that... I think I'm going to need a little help... getting there," she elaborated and confirmed what he knew of his generally self-sufficient companion.
"No problem," he returned quickly and dug out a warm jacket for her and then some trousers, warmer socks and her boots. When they had her bundled and ready to go outside, she lay back exhausted again.
He gave her a few moments to recuperate and then asked, "Ready?"
She nodded but he could see the uncertainty on her face. The extent of her overwhelming exhaustion and weakness was difficult for her to deal with.
To her surprise, he reached down and tugged on the sleeping bag beneath her. Sliding her and the bag over to the tent door, he unzipped the tent, stepped out and then leaned back in and carefully picked her up. Once upright, he moved a little to adjust her weight more comfortably in his arms and then asked, "How's that?"
"I'm fine, but I'm just the passenger – How are you?" she asked with a small smile as she wrapped an arm around the back of his neck for stability.
"Oh, I'm just peachy," he replied as he carefully picked his way across the clearing and into the woods where they'd set up their latrine. "But it's a good thing that you hardly weigh anything... and that the facilities are not far away," he added.
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Once there, she'd insisted on managing most things by herself and she now lay exhausted and limp in his arms for the short trek back to camp.
Back at the tent, she let him take her jacket and shoes off and slide her back under the covers. Recognizing that she wanted to go back to sleep, however, he tugged her into a sitting position against their gear. "Don't fall asleep," he ordered. "I'm going to heat the food back up, it will just take a few minutes."
"Yes sir," a weak and tired voice drifted up to him.
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The rest of the day passed quietly.
Sam would sleep for two-three hours and then be awake for a half-hour to an hour.
Jack made her eat and drink something each time she awoke and then they would talk... although she was still so tired that Jack supplied most of the conversation.
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The fifth and sixth days since his swim in the river were similar to the fourth, but with each passing day, Sam was awake for longer and longer periods. She also no longer allowed him to feed her... or dress her for when she had to go outside.
He watched her progress with relief... and yet, at the same time, he couldn't help feeling that he was losing something. Because, to be honest, he liked the closeness that they'd had when he was taking care of her. He liked helping her... and as she grew stronger, she also grew more independent.
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He was watching her sleep again. She was stretched out in the afternoon sun...just a simple nap as she continued to convalesce and grow steadily stronger each day.
He stood slowly and worked the kinks out of his muscles. The soreness and stiffness from his healed bruises, scrapes and broken bones were just a fading echo of what should have taken long months to heal.
The severity of his injuries and how quickly it all happened had crashed down on him over the past few days. His memory replayed the image of her face with the despair and horror in her eyes when she'd realized the true extent of his injuries.
The two of them were too vulnerable here alone. This planet generally appeared so innocuous... that he had fallen into a false sense of security. The landslide and river-run had been a jolting nightmare.
And yet, here they were now. He was healed... and she was recuperating.
Every step he took, he took with a new found gratitude... those horrifying moments of thinking that he might never walk again replaying in his mind... reminding him of how close they'd come to true disaster... reminding him how lucky he was to be walking around.
They had beaten death many times over the years... they'd each actually been dead on several occasions... but this time felt different... it was more emotionally heartwrenching... somehow, there was more to lose now...
He stretched his arms and legs for the sheer pleasure of being able to do so, and enjoyed every sensation in each muscle and joint. Even each creak and ache. He couldn't help the smile that was tilting the corners of his mouth as he realized that they had somehow received another 'Get Out Of Jail Free Card'. How many would they get? Over the years, he had grown fairly flippant about injuries and death and such.
This time however, he had felt it in a way that hadn't touched his heart in a decade. As his eyes settled on her sleeping form again, some well-known song lyrics haunted his reverie...
...and he said someday I hope you get the chance
...to live like you were dying.
...Like tomorrow was a gift... and you got eternity to think about
...what'd you do with it?... what did you do with it?
...and I watched an eagle as it was flying
...and all the sudden going fishin
...wasn't such an imposition
and he saw her fish flapping in his face and heard her asking if she should zat it...
...and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
...and I gave forgiveness I'd been denying
...and I became a friend a friend would like to have
and images of the hours spent talking with her over the past weeks flashed before his eyes
...and he said someday I hope you get the chance
...to live like you were dying.
...Like tomorrow was a gift and you got eternity to think about
...what'd you do with it?... what did you do with it?
What would you do with it?
What would you do with it?
What would you do with it?
The lyrics echoed in his mind, hauntingly.
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On the ninth day since the accident, he looked across the fire at her. She was still weak and she tired easily, and he figured that afternoon naps were going to be a part of their days for awhile. But her progress left him no doubt that she would have a full recovery.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?" she answered easily.
"We need to talk about what happened," he broached the topic that he'd wanted to talk about all week. But he'd waited until she was stronger, and more clear-headed.
She looked over at him quizzically, "Which part? The landslide, your river run-," she started listing options and he cut in.
"The green glowy thing," he specified.
She looked at him steadily and then shrugged, "I can't explain it... it just... happened..."
He nodded, knowing that she didn't know why it worked, "Sam, I tried it on you," and when he saw her furrowed brow he explained, "When you wouldn't wake up... I put my hand on your chest and I tried as hard as I could to help you the way you'd helped me, but nothing happened."
He could see her mulling that over before she responded, "Perhaps it only works one way – from the one who's healing to the one who's injured. Maybe you can't send it back, so to speak," she postulated and he nodded agreement with his earlier unspoken theory.
"Or perhaps it is you," he suggested. "And not me. Maybe it has nothing to do with my experience with the library of the Ancients...?"
She considered his words, but then shook her head, "I can't see a reason why I would suddenly be able to heal you in a way similar to what Aiyana did when we were in Antarctica. Or how you healed Bra'tac...," she paused for a breath, "The naquadah in my blood is not enough by itself to explain this... I still think that it's more likely that it has something to do with how you were altered by that Ancient download."
"Maybe it's a combination of factors," she continued, musing outloud. "Maybe it has something to do with this planet... something that exists here... something that's in the food or water... or perhaps it's that and what has happened to both of us over the years...?"
"So, even though the Asgard 'fixed' me... and I don't feel like I did when I healed Bra'tac... maybe I could heal you if you were injured?" he proposed.
"Maybe...," and she looked thoughtfully into the fire. "There's no good way to test that, though... at least not until I get injured or sick."
A few moments of silence passed and then he asked, "Sam, do you ever get the feeling... that we're... connected... you and me?" and he winced a bit at the inadequateness of the words.
She studied him for a moment and then nodded, "When I read the report of that first mission to Abydos... and when I met you in that briefing room so many years ago..." She blew out a breath, "That... mission... Grounder 1... that mission ultimately led to my involvement in the Stargate project... and then to SG-1 with you and Daniel and Teal'c," and she paused again. "I've always seen it as part of the symmetries and balances that life often seems to be made of."
"I still can't believe that I never connected you with Raptor 2," he stated with disbelief.
"Well, let's see... you had two bullets in you... you were feverish... and I was in a plane thousands of feet overhead... you never saw my face... just heard my voice over a radio... so... years later, no one would ever expect you to connect that pilot over that desert with a scientist demanding to be on your special off-world team...," and she gave him a rueful grin of empathy.
"No, I certainly did not think of Raptor 2 when you appeared in that briefing room in your dress blues," he admitted. She grinned and shrugged it off, but he continued, "It doesn't seem quite fair, actually."
"What?" she returned.
"You knew who I was, but I really didn't know who you were," he pointed out and she shrugged apologetically.
"At first, I really wanted to prove that I could be an asset to the team... and later... Raptor 2 just seemed pretty inconsequential compared to the SGC and our missions. Saving the World and All," and she gave him a small smile.
"You risking your life to save mine is never inconsequential to me," he pointed out clearly.
She rolled her eyes, "You know what I meant," she protested.
"Yeah, I did," he admitted and then paused for a moment before continuing, "And I don't think I ever said thanks."
She looked back up at him, "Yes you did. Weeks ago," she reminded him.
"Not for that, for dragging my soggy ass back to camp last week and then for healing me," he specified.
"Ah. Well, you're welcome, although I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done if it had been me who was injured," she returned dismissively.
"Yeah well, thanks just the same," he reiterated.
"You're welcome," she returned warmly.
A few more moments of silence and then, "Sam, if anything like that happens again-,"
And she cut him off, "Don't say it!"
"Sam-,"
"Don't say it!" she repeated angrily.
"Trading your life for mine – just isn't worth it," he tried.
"I decide what my life is worth trading for," she retorted.
"Sam look, you said you'd kick my ass if I left you here – well, it's the same for me. I would be devastated if you died saving my life and I was left here alone," he entreated.
She stared at him. "Jack, there was never any choice. You were seriously hurt. We don't have access to any medical facilities or doctors. I had the potential to help you... end of story."
He sighed, "I just wish there was a way to control it... so that you weren't so...," and he searched for words.
"Debilitated?" she offered.
"Almost dead," he returned baldly and she winced.
"Nice," she commented with heavy irony.
"Yeah well, next time you leave me to talk to myself while you spend several days as Sleeping Beauty, I get to name the planet," he proclaimed.
"Oh, I really don't think so," she returned with a threatening tone. "I'm not living on SpermWorld."
He raised his eyebrows challengingly, "A guy has to have something to amuse himself while you saw logs."
"What did you do while I was asleep?" she asked curiously.
"This and that around camp. Played cards. Slept a lot. You made it look so inviting," and he gave her a quirky grin. "But mostly I watched you," he admitted and she looked uncomfortable.
It hadn't dawned on her that he'd had all that time to watch her while she was completely unawares. She'd figured that he spent most of the time working on this and that around camp. He was usually so restless.
She looked over at him and wondered just how much time he had spent watching her sleep. Mentally flipping things around, she admitted to herself that if he'd been the one sleeping... she would have undoubtedly spent hours watching him.
'But mostly I watched you,' his words echoed silently in her mind as she pondered the flickering flames of the campfire.
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TBC
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Author's Notes: The lyrics quoted earlier are from the song 'Live Like You Were Dying', by Craig Wiseman and Tim Nichols. If you'd like to hear the song sung by Tim McGraw, go to wwwdotsmashitsusadotcom/index.cfm?PageAudio&SubPagealbumdetails&AlbumID634 (and replace the dots with periods)
The song actually refers specifically to a young 40-something who finds out that he has cancer, but the sentiment 'Live Like You Were Dying' applies to so many other possibilities... and the mention of fishin no longer seeming an imposition... it just seemed to fit for Sam and Jack here.
I've never included a song in a fanfic before and I hope this one works here. I also hope that if you haven't heard the song before, that you give it a listen... it's worth it.
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