Jack O'Neill stood in Samantha Carters living room.
It was the early hours in the morning, at least two am.
He didn't turn around to look at the clock, just stood, by the couch in his boxers staring at her open bedroom doorway.
He'd got her back she was home. After five long months of waiting and wondering what had happened to her she was back.
He had offered to stay the night but when she said no, he demanded it.
He didn't want her alone.
He needed to be close by to protect her. But he knew that there would be no way of stopping her getting from getting taken from her bed again.
If Anubis had some how managed to rise from the dead and use the technology he had managed to build thanks to the Asguard. She would be lost to him again.
That technology was now all in pieces in some galaxy or another he had made sure of it. He felt better himself for being there. It made him feel like he was actually doing something since he had been helpless and at the end of his rope for those 5 long endless months.
He knew that Carter probably blamed them, in some unconscious way or another, and he blamed himself in some ways too. The questions ran through his head as he stood there getting a slight chill from only being in boxers.
Could he have done more?
Could he have gotten her back faster? What had Anubis done to her?
Was she going to be ok? He tried to put all the questions into little suitcases in his mind, but the lock on them just popped back open and they spilled out again.
He'd woken when he heard her get up, she'd tried to be quiet but he hadn't missed it, the little creek her bathroom door made as she closed it and the small click of the light going on. He had sprung from his slightly uncomfortable position on the couch, letting the covers fall and just stood there, staring at the open door way, looking at the small stream of light that was filtering through.
He didn't know what to do. Should he go to her?
What if she only needed the toilet?
So he stood and waited. It had been twenty minutes now, of him just standing, he didn't know if his knees could take the strain of standing like this, in that fixed, bolt upright hard position for much longer.
The sound of clothes being dropped and crumpling on the floor snapped him from his wondering.
He heard her move around a little more before he heard the light go off, the bathroom door open and her move back to her bed.
But still he did not move he stood there thinking what he could do to make the pain go away.
Gradually he moved into her room, from where he stood in the doorway.
Staring at her back, the quilt had sagged down and it exposed her, he could see that she was just in her underwear. The love of his life had been in trouble and he hadn't been able to help her were the words that rang out in his mind.
Moving once more, gradually getting towards the bed, he hadn't realised he has been moving until his knees touched the side of the bed, she shifted, jumped slightly and whipped round to see him. He had been expecting to find her crying, distraught, but no, not Carter.
She smiled as much as she could at him, but it was only a small tug on her lips. She turned away from him again, letting him know it was ok, so he slipped in behind her, lying there unmoving for a while, looking at her hair, seeing how much it had grown since the last time he had seen her, it was now almost shoulder length, and the blonde had become a little duller than usual.
Slipping one hand gently on her shoulder he turned her so that she was lying on her back. He entwined her fingers with his, moved her a little more so that she laid half on his chest and half off. They both drifted off to sleep, he knew she'd be ok she was a soldier and she was his Sam.