Supporting Rumors - Part 59

Jack stared out across the immaculate lawns. The slight breeze fluttered the fabric that hung at his window and he sighed heavily as he pulled himself up. He was learning how to maneuver himself more easily and had become quite adept at transferring himself to and from his chair, and although the staff weren't very keen on him wandering around at all hours - it didn't stop him. He found it hard to just lie there when the sun rose and the views from his window had him yearning for his old home.

He grimaced at his legs – if just willing them to move could do it he'd be running around by now, but it seemed that any progress had halted, much to his despair.

He couldn't fault the hospital. The staff were excellent, the facilities more so - it was just that he did not want to be here.

And Sam – he missed Sam.

She drove down as much as her spare time allowed and Jack knew that Landry was giving her as much as he could, given the circumstances, but the demands of her work at the moment were running high.

Jack wasn't sure which was worse, knowing what was going on thanks to Hayes' refusal to retire him, or being in the dark – no strike that – knowing was better.

Paperwork had finally been permitted to be filtered to him. Nothing of a top secret nature of course, given his location, but he was grateful for the humdrum that kept some part of his mind from dwelling too deeply on his fears, and even the most mundane functions of his position gave him some feeling he was still a small part of the world that increasingly seemed to be moving along without him. Being here he felt so isolated from everyday life that sometimes the many years he had lived before the shooting had the quality of a dream.

Jack slowly went through the motions of getting himself partly dressed and into his chair before settling the loose robe Sam had bought him around his shoulders. He unfurled the collar and crushed the material to his face, inhaling deeply, seeking the comfort from the scent of Sam on it. He'd covered her with it on her last visit as she fell asleep in his room. He had sat and watched her sleeping for almost three hours before she woke with a guilty start, the faint blush staining her cheeks as she looked aghast at her faux pas.

She'd been so upset at losing some of their precious time together by sleeping through it that it took a while for her to accept that he wasn't angry and had thoroughly enjoyed just watching her…

Jack became so lost in remembering how the light caught her hair and the way it fell across her forehead and how soft her skin had looked that the sudden cough startled him.

"Sorry sir, I did knock, but …"

Jack recovered rapidly, giving the young man a quick smile. "That's okay, I was just thinking."

"Are you ready for breakfast?"

Jack swiveled his chair to check the clock beside his bed, startled to find it was almost 0800 already. Sheesh, he'd better stop daydreaming…

By the time he had breakfasted and done his usual morning therapy there was barely time for a shower, then it was lunch time. Jack found it strange that his world seem to revolve around meal times, that and the next visitor.

Teal'c and Daniel had both been regular visitors, avoiding clashing with Sam wherever possible, for which he was grateful. He knew their schedules were hectic and although their visits were brief he looked forward to them immensely.

George Hammond had been calling him regularly and had visited twice. His bright and warm manner had helped Jack pick up a little when he felt down, not that he would admit that to anyone…

If he kept himself busy from the sun rise to the setting, then the days were bearable – it was the nights that were miserable. He missed Sam beside him, missed holding her and loving her and if he was honest, yes he missed making love as well. They'd talked about it, hell, he even read about it – but that was all at the moment. The truth was he was just as frightened of letting her down in that respect as he was of never walking again.

It was hard at first to interact with the other patients. Everyone he looked at seemed to scream home to him exactly what he was – a cripple - and the more he tried to dispel that image the more it came to haunt him – especially at night.

Ba'al's sneering visage bore down on him more than once as the bright white of the sarcophagus scathed his eyes. The evil mouth bore a malevolent smile as he stated with immense satisfaction that no amount of healing would allow Jack the use of his pathetic body…

He woke shouting, bathed in sweat, hauling himself upright in sheer panic as he groped for the light switch, blinking to clear his vision, to clear the tears from his eyes.

It soon became apparent that the more outgoing of the other patients would not let him keep to himself and he found that gradually he was adjusting to their company, occasionally even seeking it out of his own will. Even his poker game was improving, much to the disgust of one or two of the other players…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC