Thank you to everyone who review the prologue. I greatly appreciated any feedback and constructive criticism. It helps me improve!

On to Chapter One..

Chapter One

It had been a fitful morning. Four reports down (headings in bold and double spaced), he had then given the go-ahead for the new dialling program to be installed (to occupy Siler), and then promptly sent SG-2, 10 and 15 out on re-con for six hours (and misinformed Walter Harriman that as themissions were high-risk he should remain in the gate room until all teams were back and not, under any circumstances be seen in his vicinity.)

Avoiding the issue, Jack, he'd repeated over again in his mind, but he realised that as soon as he started moping his thoughts drifted back to her, and how she was doing - which incidentally, he didn't know. She'd been carted off to the infirmary and sedated, before which she'd turned away from him as he hovered near the end of her bed.

Before, maybe, he would have seen that as a sign that she needed some support, but now he doubted himself. Support? Or was she telling him that she'd moved on, her fiancé was coming and if he wouldn't mind getting lost?

The good doctor had to report to him anyway, seeing as he was the General, and Carter clearly would not be heading off-world anytime soon. That alone was his reason for hurrying back at breakneck speed to his office with his box of froot loops coveted from the commissary.

Crap, he thought as he was just about to round the corner. Voices. Was there some sort of queue forming outside his door?

"Do you think this is wise DanielJackson?" he heard Teal'c exclaim.

The archaeologist shrugged.

" I do believe that at this time O'Neill is bound to be in a most volatile state."

"Maybe," Daniel replied, "But the Superman routine is starting to wear a little thin. Do you know that he alphabetised my entire collection of Babylonian Texts this morning? Wrongly, might I add?"

Teal'c appeared to consider this gravely.

"Hey guys!" He grinned falsely as he walked by them.

"Ja-ck," stuttered Daniel, "I was about to – "

"As was I O'Neill," chimed Teal'c.

He shook his head and pulled his chair up to his desk. Kids. And then he saw it.

A post-it.

Jeez, Daniel sure was getting crafty in his old age.

'GO AND SEE HER.'

Printed in block capitals too. Was he really that grouchy?

They had a point, he guessed. And he supposed that if she really protested he could always make some excuse… or.. he didn't actually have to make any excuse. He was in charge, for crying out loud!

But for some reason unknown, he felt as though she was calling the shots.

He'd wait until she was asleep.

>>>>>>>>

She awoke this time in a warm bed to walls of white, and the isolated beeping of the monitor beside her. Alive.

The curtain pulled around her bedside, she could hear the flurry of footsteps beyond, as they bustled by and around and pretended she wasn't there. In that moment there was just her and her thoughts; and in that moment nobody felt as alone as Sam Carter did.

She felt a tear snake its way down her cheek. Dammit. She was not going to cry. Not here, not now, not ever over this. But she couldn't help it.

She saw it when she shut her eyes – the look on his face as he'd taken her hand and gazed at her ring. He'd spoken quietly to her, a measure of acceptance as he'd congratulated her. The worst of it had been that he'd meant it.

Somehow if he'd fought her, slammed his fist on the table, things might have been better. But, he hadn't. No, he wished her every happiness and in return she'd witnessed an awful dimming in his eyes.

A letting go.

She'd hurt him. And she couldn't take it back. She couldn't face him, or look him in the eye to see the reflection of her callousness, her cruelty. After all they'd been through. She'd given up first; that was it. But she hadn't, she just needed someone to hold onto, and he couldn't be there.

Her ribs were on fire, as she struggled to control her breathing. The pain meds were wearing off. She rolled onto her side and clutched her chest. Her shoulder itched terribly, and though long since over, she could still smell the odour of singed skin as the blast burned it's way through her jacket and into her flesh.

She swallowed.

"Is Sam down there?" His question permeated her frantic thoughts.

"Yes General, she's asleep. Though I think the sedatives should be wearing off soon."

"Okay, I'll only be a couple of minutes anyway."

He walked towards her and she shut her eyes, and relaxed her breathing. She heard the curtain being pulled back and his footsteps softening as he came to a stop by the side of her bed.

There was an eerie silence and she was quite tempted to open her eyes to check if he was still there. Except then she felt it – his hand. His fingertips as they gently brushed away a loose strand of hair.

"Get better soon, Sam," he whispered, and the hand was abruptly removed. She missed it immediately.

He turned and faded into the distance, pulling the curtain behind him.

"Nurse," she heard him say quietly, "She needs some painkillers."

"I'll get right on that, Sir."

>>>>>>>>

There was nothing on television. His Simpsons re-runs had vanished overnight and the hockey match had been postponed.

So there was himself, his couch, and a remote that was doing absolutely nothing to lift his spirits.

She'd been awake.

It was truly a sad reflection of him that he could tell her sleeping patterns. She smiled in her sleep, a fact that he found unusual, but at the same time oddly comforting; at least one of them was having pleasant dreams.

She'd been awake.

Her brow had been furrowed, criss-crossed with lines of pain, and he'd known there was no way that she was still asleep. Her lips had been pursed, her fragile fingers white from gripping the pillow in an effort to conceal whatever it was that she'd been hiding. She had not been asleep.

She'd not wanted to see him.

He wasn't sure if that hurt him more than the news of the engagement. He'd thought it over and it came down to two simple things.

He could live with Sam being married to Pete.

He could not live without Sam in his life at all.

And gradually she was slipping away from him.

He was about to pull his second can of beer when was a loud booming knock at the door. Now, it didn't take a military mind to work out who that was.

"Daniel Jackson insisted that it is imperative not to allow you to wallow in self pity, O'Neill."

"I did not," mumbled a voice from behind two large shopping bags.

"I concurred." The Jaffa continued on into the house.

"Why, come in, of course," Jack muttered dryly as he heard the unmistakable sound of feet being placed on his coffee table. He reached out and grabbed a bag from Daniel, who was unsuccessfully trying to negotiate his front step.

"Hat uncomfortable?" he wondered as he caught sight of Teal'c's gloriously pink woolly hat adorning the doorknob.

"Indeed. My recent cosmetic endeavours as yet provide insufficient camouflage."

Jack frowned – just how long exactly was Teal'c planning on growing his hair?

>>>>>>>>

"Where is she?" Hurried footsteps. "Oh my God, Sam, what has he done to you?"

"Pete," she murmured groggily. He'd woken her up.

"Of course it's me," he chided.

"Who did what to me?"

"Him. Where did he send you? You can't keep coming back injured, Sam."

She yawned. Please not here. Let's not have this discussion here.

"My job is high-risk, Pete. You know that."

His face darkened.

"You're going to have to make some decisions, Sam. I.. I want you here with me. I don't want to have to say goodbye every few days and know it might be the last time I'll see you."

"My job is important to me. It's not open to discussion. You're a police officer – you are just as likely to get injured." Although, she mused, maybe not quite.

"I think – "

"Pete, I'm tired. Do you mind if I get some rest? You can call round tomorrow when I'm home and we talk things through."

"Okay," he agreed. "I'm not letting this go, you know," he added sternly.

She gritted her teeth.

Believe me, I know.

>>>>>>>>

The credits rolled as the three men lay sprawled in various directions across the floor. Teal'c had felt it rather girly to be holding a 'night-in' ritual with a film in O'Neills living room, but ever the diplomat, Daniel had pointed out that three hours spent staring at the box were far more likely to take Jack's mind off things than a night spent contemplating the affairs of the galaxy over a beer can.

Teal'c stood up pensively, abruptly shattering the lazy silence that had descended in the room. "I believe it was – "

"Ssssh!" Jack jumped to attention, raising one finger to silence the Jaffa. His face had calmed and taken on a vacant, stunned look.

"Ssssh."

Teal'c stared at him with a quivering eyebrow. "Are you quite alright, O'Neill?" he enquired.

"I… - I.." This feeling - it was so familiar, yet he couldn't quite place it. Confusion and speechlessness all rolled into one. He paused momentarily to steady himself and concentrate his thoughts. He grabbed the video box.

"Aha!" he exclaimed.

Eureka.

So that was it.

He had just been technobabbled.

By a film.

By a film without any technobabble.

"I thought you'd enjoy that one," remarked Daniel wickedly as he ejected 'Memento' from the recorder.

And he had enjoyed it – for a split second. Then he wondered if he'd ever really feel that feeling again; it reminded him of her, how she made him feel.

How she was fading from him slowly.

How he was letting her go.

TBC