A/N: Thank you for the wonderful comments and encouragement.
I've decided to post two chapters a week and will be aiming to update every Wednesday and Sunday.
Jack sat on the couch in boxer shorts and an old Air Force t-shirt, watching a Simpsons rerun that did little to hold his interest. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to Sam. After spending a week glued to her bedside, then another one secretly checking on her whenever she'd slept, he couldn't help but wonder how she was doing.
The memory of finding her facing down the Super Soldier burned his brain. He'd almost lost her. Another few seconds and the Super Soldier would have violently ended her life.
"Gah!" Jack growled, pressing his hands to his eyes. Sam was alive. She was safe.
After carrying her back through the gate two weeks ago, he'd kept a vigil by her bedside until she was out of critical condition. Then just this afternoon, he and the fellas had driven her to her house and watched as the shrub—Pete, Jack corrected himself—had settled her into bed.
Jack had kept her safe and delivered her to the man she loved. He'd done his duty. Fulfilled the promise Jacob had demanded of him before the man had begrudgingly left to attend to Tok'ra business. So why did Jack have this strong urge to go check on her? It wasn't like he and Sam had been anything more than coworkers and friends for the past two years. Sure, at one time they'd been something more, but Jack had screwed that up the day he'd shot her twice with a zat. He'd been the one to pump the breaks, afraid of the intensity of his own feelings. Despite that, they'd remained close and he'd hoped they would find their way back to each other again. At least he had until she'd disappeared for three days aboard the Prometheus. When she'd come back something had shifted between them, and Sam had thrown up a wall, effectively locking him out.
The sound of a car pulling into his driveway jerked him out of his thoughts. Checking his watch, he noted the late hour. He only knew of three people who would show up on his doorstep at midnight. Knowing Teal'c and Sam were otherwise occupied, he made an educated guess.
"Dan—" Jack's greeting was cut short as he opened his door to see Sam. The look on her face was that of a feral animal. Her eyes were wide, panicked, and in pain. She was soaked, shivering against the freezing night air in nothing more than a pair of thin pajamas.
"Carter—what the hell?" Jack reacted immediately, stepping forward and slipping himself under one of her shoulders.
She sagged against him, allowing him to take her weight. She felt like an ice cube. The cold November air had caused ice crystals to form on her hair. But the sharp smell of blood tinged his senses, letting him know something was terribly wrong.
"I didn't know where else to go," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. The effort to speak sapping any remaining energy.
Scooping her into his arms, he fought back his own emotions as she cried out in pain. Crossing to the couch, he lay her onto the soft cushions as gently as he could manage, then reached for his phone.
"No!" Sam batted it out of his hand. "He'll be monitoring the police scanner."
Jack knew without asking who the he was.
"Sam," Jack did a cursory check of her body, noting the way she cradled her wrist and the blood on her thigh. "You need medical care."
"Call Janet," Sam's teeth began chattering, her adrenaline abating at a rapid rate, driving her body towards shock. "P-please, sir. I don't want him to find me."
Nodding his acquiescence, Jack retrieved his phone from the floor and called their friend. He relayed to Janet what little he knew, making sure she understood why Sam wanted no law enforcement.
"Get her warm, Jack," Janet instructed. "If she goes hypothermic while in shock—" Janet paused and Jack could hear the crack in her voice as she brought her emotions under control. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"The key is under the big rock," he added before disconnecting the call and turning to Sam.
"C'mon," he bent down and gently lifted her into his arms again. "Janet says I need to get you warm."
Carrying her into the bathroom, he set her onto the toilet seat, then reached to turn on the water in the shower.
"I'm going to take these off," he said softly, fingering the collar of her pajama top.
Sam whimpered but didn't move to stop him as he popped open the buttons. They'd served together long enough that it wouldn't be the first time he saw her naked since their time together. He wasn't prepared, however, for the sight of her already bruising skin as he pushed the top down her arms.
"Son of a—" he bit off the curse at Sam's wince.
Easing a sleeve over her injured wrist, he tamped down the pure rage he was feeling.
"I need you to stand up for me," he said gently, lifting her upwards as carefully as possible. As her sodden pants fell to the floor, Jack was relieved to see the damage to her thigh wasn't as bad as he expected. The stitches had ripped, causing the bleeding, but the original wound was still knitted closed.
Lifting her into the shower, Jack didn't hesitate as he stepped in behind her, still wearing his t-shirt and boxers.
The hot spray of water jolted Sam's system. The shock she'd been experiencing stubbornly held on, its tendrils unwilling to fully release her. But it abated enough for her to begin to process what had transpired.
"Oh god, Jack," she whimpered, wrapping herself in the safety of his arms. "He—Pete—he—" she began to shake violently.
"Shhh," Jack held her close, supporting her weight, and willing his own strength into her. "You're safe now. I'll keep you safe."
They stood there silent under the hot spray, as Jack held her, futilely trying to absorb her pain. Time seemed to stand still until he felt the telltale change in water temperature. He knew the hot water was going to be spent soon. Switching off the shower, he reached for a towel and heard the telltale jiggle of his front door opening.
"Colonel O'Neill? Sam?" Janet called from the living room.
"We're in the bathroom," Jack answered back, hating the way the sound made Sam flinch.
"Oh, sweetie," Janet said, unable to hide her look of horror as she found them. Luckily, Sam's back was to the door, giving Janet time to compose herself. She looked at Jack, telling him without words he'd done the right thing in getting her warm the fastest way possible.
"C'mon, Carter," Jack eased her back slightly. "Janet's here. Let's get you dry."