Okay jack has rescued sam and now they have entered the gateroom, sam is tortured and bleeding and such

General Hammond stared at the closed iris that was protecting the Gateroom from whatever had activated the Gate on the other side of the wormhole. This was a dilemma. Jack had run through the gate, despite the armed guard Hammond had placed on him. But, Jack had run to a Goa'uld controlled planet. The Goa'uld were not above using tricks to get through the Gate. He had to keep the iris closed.

But what if it were Sam and Jack? Could he live with himself knowing that he had ended their lives just as they had been safe? Could he bring himself to let them die?

Hammond shifted his gaze to the twenty or so armed guards beneath him, each standing in defensive position, waiting for orders.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't let his two best officers die.

"Open the iris."

"Sir, are you sure? The Goa'uld have trick-"

"I am aware of that son, but I am not willing to let two fine assets to the team be killed. Open the iris now. That's an order."

The technician complied and seconds later, the iris split open like a flower opening to the sun, the blue wormhole gleaming behind it. Seconds later, Jack O'Neill flew through the gate, a wan form cradled tenderly in his arms. O'Neill looked up, ironic smile on his face.

"I'm in big trouble now." he said with a small grin.

(Infirmiry)

The medical bay smelled strongly of disinfectent and the sounds of whirring machines filled the air. However, the bay seemed eerily quiet to Jack. All he could do was sit and stare at Sam's wan form laying on the stiff bed. Beeps and hums echoed around Jack, but they meant nothing. He had saved her. He had gone against orders, illegally opened the gate with the help of his team, and ventured unaided into Goa'uld territory. He had saved her.

And now she was going to die.

Dr. Frasier hadn't been able to explain it. All she knew was that the damage done to Sam was too severe to correct and had to sustain her on life support. Sam's mind was trapped somewhere in her shell of a body and neither Jack nor Janet nor anyone else could reach her.

She was going to die.

Jack moaned softly to himself and lay his head softly next to her, his face pressed into the sheets. Her hand was cold in his; he could barely feel a pulse. Her lungs made a soft hiss every time the machines forced her to inhale, so somewhere, a lung was punctured.

Oh God, why her? What had she done to deseve this? Not death; no, the team had always been prepared to accept death. Everytime they stepped through the gate they were risking their lives.

This death was cruel. Sam had been alone. Probably thinking about the team and worrying about them, especially Jack, and what would happen to them if she was gone. She had been scared and alone and cold and betrayed! Where had her team been? Why hadn't he saved her?

Jack swallowed the tears that were building behind his eyes with a shuddering gulp. He pushed his face against her, wrapping his arms around her as he eased himself out of his chair and into her bed. He watched her face, traced the lines of her cheeks, gentle fingers finding home in her hair. Tears began to trickle down his face, landing on her cheeks liek tiny raindrops. Soon, he was sobbing.

Who says real men don't cry?

Whoever had said that must have never been in love. Jack was losing the only woman he had ever loved completely and she was taking a piece of his soul with her.

Jack nuzzled her, completely enveloping her in his arms, finally releasing years of emotion. Too bad she wasn't here to see it.

Real men do cry, when they're in love.