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Part One - Recriminations

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Jack held her until he felt the last shaking sob fade away. The officer in him told him that this was inappropriate, that he should push her away and maintain his distance. But the man in him told him that this was vital and important, and that if this was what she needed from him, then this is what he should give her. A few moments of peace and comfort to help ease the hours and days of constant pain and sorrow was not too much to ask for, and it certainly wasn't too much to give.

He'd never really understood that before. He'd only ever been able to truly open himself up to one person, and that had been so long ago that the feeling of giving or receiving comfort of a soul was only a distant impression of a memory.

His near-death experience had changed that. At the least, it had given him the knowledge that he needed it back. The huge, gaping hole in his soul should have healed months ago, but he'd realized that he hadn't allowed it to. He'd stayed away, maintained his distance, keeping what should have been his healing at arm's length rather than letting it sink in, as he should have done.

Jack wondered at the role-reversal. He, Jack O'Neill - the strong and proud and emotionally detached military man - was standing in the Infirmary, holding a recently cried-out Sam Carter in his arms, while the deeply-feeling, compassionate, ever-emotional Daniel Jackson was hiding in a dark corner somewhere.

Daniel...

"Where is he, Sam?"

He felt her head move slightly against his chest and her quivering sigh against his skin. "I don't know."

Jack patted her lightly on the back. "It's okay," he said softly. He touched her chin and tipped her face up to him, wiping away the last vestiges of her tears with his thumb. "It's okay."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "It's not."

Jack nodded slightly and closed his eyes, allowing Sam the dignity of pulling away from him on her own. He opened them again to find Sam staring blankly at the empty space above his left shoulder.

"He won't talk to us. Not to me, not to Teal'c. If we try he just..." She fumbled for words, licking her lips quickly before continuing. "Well, he doesn't want us there. We ask him questions; he won't answer. We tell him we understand; he just looks at us. We try to remind him that we're still here; he tells us to go away." She focused her eyes on his again, and drew a deep, ragged breath. "I don't think I can handle this."

"You're doing fine, Sam."

She laughed - a bitter, strangled laugh that held no humor. "I'm a wreck. I'm falling apart. And everyone around me is doing the same, and I can't even hold myself together long enough to help them."

"Sam..."

"Cassie won't even talk to me. 'She's a tough kid.' Hell, Jack, she's just a kid. And she just lost her mother - again - and there's absolutely nothing she wants to hear from me about it. She just... she's trying so hard to make it through this, and I'm trying to help her, and I can't. I look at her, and I see Janet, and I lose it. We spend all of our time together either crying in each other's arms or screaming at each other. And we scream, and we feel guilty, and we cry, and it starts all over again."

Jack nodded solemnly. "I know what you mean."

"And Daniel..." Sam's voice broke. She closed her eyes and turned away.

"Worse this time, isn't it?"

Sam nodded without opening her eyes. "Even before we knew for sure, we knew he was still... somewhere. We didn't know if we'd ever see him again, but at least we knew there was a chance we might. But Janet... Janet's just..."

"No time to release her burden," Jack whispered.

Sam's head snapped up, anger flashing in her eyes. "What burden? What judgment could she possibly not pass? How could she have possibly been unworthy? My God, she was... she was just..."

"She deserved better," Jack agreed.

"She deserved her life!" Sam declared, suddenly spinning and slamming her fist into a supply cabinet that had obviously wronged her in some way. "She deserved to watch her daughter get married! She deserved to be happy, and to be loved, and damn it, she deserved to live!"

Jack stepped forward, alarmed at the speed with which Sam had gone from despondent to livid. "Hey, Carter, calm down..."

"No!" she spat back at him. "No, damn it, I will not calm down! I'm tired of calming down! I am angry, and upset, and pissed off! I am seriously pissed off at some powerful people," she cried out, waving her fist at the ceiling, "and damn it, I'm going to make them hear me!"

Jack looked up in confusion, not understanding exactly what Sam was ranting about. Then, suddenly, it came to him. He looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised in sympathy. "Oh... them..."

"Yes, them! Or more specifically, her!" Sam's eyes bore into Jack, begging him for an answer that she knew he didn't have. "Where was she? She was here to take Daniel away from us when he had a choice. Where was she when Janet didn't?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"Damn it," Sam whispered, closing her eyes and turning away once more. "Where were you?" she screamed at the ceiling again. "Where the hell were you!"

Jack stood silently staring at Sam's back, uncertain of just what he should do to help her.

"Damn you!" Sam cried out, slamming her fist into the cabinet once more. "Damn you, Oma Desala! Why? Why didn't you save her? It isn't fair!"

Jack jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Sam from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. "Sam... Sam, stop. It's all right..."

"It's not all right!" Sam screamed through her tears. "It's never going to be all right! She's... Janet... oh God..." Sam crumpled; only Jack's arms around her kept her on her feet. "Oh God, Jack... she's gone. Janet's gone..."

Jack closed his eyes and nodded his head slowly. "Yes, she is."

Sam sniffled and fought to bring her hysteria under control. After a deep, shaking breath she said softly, "I want her back."

Jack simply nodded once more. "I know you do."

Sam let out a short, derisive huff. "What the hell do you know?" she asked hotly. "You didn't even cry when he died."

Jack let go of Sam quickly and stepped back from her. "This isn't about me and Daniel."

"Yes it is!" Sam spat, turning to face him again. "You got him back, Jack. You didn't cry when he died, you didn't miss him, you didn't even want him back, but you got him."

Jack closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists at his side. "I'm going to forget you said that, Carter," he said slowly, opening his eyes to look at her again. "Because you're really upset right now, I'm just going to pretend that you didn't just say that I didn't miss Daniel."

"You didn't," she insisted hotly. "He's gone, just forget about him and let's get on with it." Sam stepped forward, jabbing her finger forward in accusation. "That's what you did. That's what you said."

"Stop it, Carter," Jack ordered softly. "You're going too far."

"How can you stand there and say to me that you know how I feel right now? My best friend is dead. You can't know what that feels like because you didn't even care when yours died!"

"I did care, Carter," Jack insisted, his body rigid as he fought to hold the rising pain in his chest down and forced the words past the lump forming in his throat. "I cared more than you could ever possibly know."

How could he make her understand? How could he explain to her how much it had hurt to know that Daniel was gone, to not know if he was ever coming back? How did he make her see that he had wanted to scream and cry and wave his arms around and punch things like she was doing? How did he convince her that the pain and anger she felt now was exactly what he had felt then? How did he justify to her holding it inside, not letting anyone see it, not sharing it with the people around him when he knew they had felt the same?

How did he make her believe that he had felt the pain and loss and desperation that she was feeling when he had tried so hard and fought so long to convince her, to convince everyone, that he hadn't? And how did he show her how wrong it had been of him to do it and how sorry he was that he'd ever even tried?

Sam snorted her disbelief and turned away.

Jack shook his head slowly and looked away from her. His team, his friends, his family... they were falling apart all around him. Sam was having some sort of breakdown right before his eyes. Teal'c was spending all of his time alone and meditating. And Daniel was still hiding in that dark corner somewhere, pushing everyone away. They were all feeling so much, and needed each other more than ever, and they were all doing their best to push everyone they needed away.

He had to stop it, now, before he lost them all forever.

"It damn near killed me, Sam."

Sam turned her head slightly, but didn't look at him. Jack sighed deeply and continued.

"I spent the first two days wondering whether or not he actually knew how much he meant to me. The two after that I spent kicking myself because I never told him. The next two days I spent angry... at myself for not being able to keep him here, at him for leaving, at Oma for taking him. And then I convinced myself that since there was nothing anyone could do to fix it, there was no point in thinking about it any more. And I tried really, really hard to just forget about him. Because it..." Jack faltered, and Sam finally looked at him across her shoulder. "It hurt. I'd come to work, and go to his office, and he wasn't there. Or I'd go to his apartment, and it was empty. Or we'd be standing in the Gate Room, and I'd be staring at the door thinking 'Come on, Daniel,' but he never walked through it. He was supposed to be here, ya know? He was supposed to be here, and he wasn't... and it hurt like hell."

"You never said..."

"No, I didn't. I never said anything. You were upset, and so was Teal'c, and I was supposed to be there for you... but I didn't know how to be. How could I help you deal with Daniel's death if I couldn't deal with it myself?"

"Just like me...," Sam whispered.

"Just like you," Jack said. "Except you're at least trying. You're trying to help Cass, and you're trying to help Daniel, and here I am, just like the last time, not doing anything. But this time, you're right, there is no 'maybe.' There is no 'chance.' Daniel wasn't gone, not really. Janet is. And you're right, she won't be coming back."

Sam's eyes started to fill again; Jack stepped forward quickly and put his hand on her arm.

"But I do know, Sam. I do. There was a time when every death was final, and I remember those. I remember Kawalsky, and Charlie..." Jack's voice trailed off and for a moment he seemed to be lost in his memories. A small smile crossed his lips, and he turned back to face her again. "And no, they're never coming back and no, it'll never be right." He touched her chin with his fingers again and she looked up at him. "But it will be all right."

"When?"

Jack smiled again. "When thinking of her makes you happy again."

Sam shook her head. "It's still not fair," she insisted. "You got him back. I want her back too."

Jack shook his head sadly. "I don't think I really got him back, Sam. Not yet."

Sam sniffed and wiped her face quickly. "What do you mean?"

"If I had him back, it'd be him here with you right now instead of me." Jack smiled quickly and patted Sam's arm twice before stepping back from her once more. "You okay?"

Sam shook her head. "No. But I will be." She flashed him a weak, tired smile. "We all will be, right, sir?"

Jack nodded his head with more conviction than he felt, determined that he would prove himself right. "Absolutely, Carter. Absolutely."