Just a short update today, because I was feeling sorry for those of you worrying about Jack's behavior. I couldn't leave you on such a cliff-hanger, now could I? I'm not that mean. – Flatkatsi

Supporting Rumors - Part 14

Jack stared at the closing door. He felt like he'd shattered into a million pieces. No matter what he'd had to do over the years, that was the hardest he'd had to bear. When he wanted to do nothing more than take Sam into his arms and love her, take away her hurt, to turn her away – turn her against him, was the most painful.

She was right. He was using the operation as a get out. He didn't expect it to go well. He'd signed everything necessary and made the appropriate call to his lawyers. Sam would inherit everything he owned, to do with as she willed. He just hoped she would find someone, find some happiness. She had a lot of living to do yet.

He had caught the small package she'd flung at him automatically and now he stared down at his clenched fist. Curiosity getting the better of him, he undid the creased paper.

He gazed at the little yellow yoyo. The bright red letters spelling, JACK, made him smile, even as the first sign of a tear built in his eye.

He brought the hand with the yoyo in to his mouth, brushing the gift with his lips. It hurt so much to turn her away … God alone knew how she felt. If it had been Sam here, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't have deserted her, no matter what happened, he would want to spend his life with her … wheelchair or not

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself. He just hoped it wasn't too late to mend things. He removed the IV tube and replaced the little bung hastily.

He wavered as he stood, the blood pounding in his ears for a few seconds until he steadied. With a pain filled staggered gait he left his room. He looked from left to right, momentarily unsure of which way to go, not having left his room before now under his own steam. Everything looked different when you weren't being pushed around while flat on your back.

He pushed open the double doors at the end of the corridor and found himself in a busy reception area. He could just make out the back of Sam's head as she entered the elevator, the doors closing behind her before he could make a move.

"General O'Neill," called out a voice. Jack barely spared the suited man who was leaning over the nurses' station a glance, before he managed to locate the stair well, and he took off, his gait weaving and unsteady.

He wavered for a moment at the top of the stairs, his vision blurring. The pain was mounting and he was sweating profusely. He clenched his fist tighter, feeling the yoyo, and his resolve hit a notch higher.

He thought he'd grasped the rail firmly … whether he missed, or his legs just plain gave way, he didn't know … he felt the blows from the first few steps as he folded and then nothing …

xoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC