A/N: Happy Hump Day!
There is no specific TW for this chapter.
"You ready for bed?" Jack asked as he closed and bolted the front door.
Sam nodded, then worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she glanced toward the bedrooms.
"Will you be all right in the guest room?" He inquired, keeping an eye on her as he drew all the blinds closed. A look of unfettered fear crossed her face before she forced her features to relax.
"Uh-huh," she answered, but it was obvious that was the last thing she wanted right now.
"Would you prefer to sleep in my room?" He tried to sound nonchalant; as if the idea was completely normal.
"Would you hate me if I said yes?" She looked at him with a hopeful but strained expression. She clearly feared his reaction.
"I could never hate you, Sam," he told her honestly. The look of shock on her face confused him, but he let it go. "Come on," he helped her into a standing position, then lifted her into his arms before she could stop him.
"Sir!" She protested.
"Janet said to keep off that leg," he reasoned without looking at her. He knew this wasn't exactly what the good doctor had meant, but he needed to feel Sam in his arms. To reassure himself that she was alive and safe.
"I don't think this is what Janet meant, sir," Sam replied and Jack was happy to hear the eye roll in her tone. It was the first indication that she would be alright.
"Maybe not," he allowed, letting her see his smirk. "But can we lose the honorific?" He asked, carrying her over the threshold and into his bedroom. "I mean, considering I'm quite literally carrying you to my bed—" he teased, even happier to see her faint blush.
"Thank you, Jack ," she smirked back at him once he'd placed her in the middle of the bed. It was still late, or early, depending on how they wanted to look at it. Stifling a yawn, she wiggled under the covers and waited for him to join her.
"Jack?" She asked hesitantly as he pulled a chair next to the bed.
"Get some sleep," he told her, settling back.
"That cannot be comfortable," she said in exasperation.
"It's not bad," he shifted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Better than sleeping in those infirmary chairs." He froze as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Infirmary chairs?" Sam quirked an eyebrow. "When did you sleep in an infirmary chair?"
"It doesn't matter," he hedged, squeezing his eyes shut.
"It was you," Sam realized.
"Who?" Jack cracked open one eye to see a look of wonder and understanding dawn her face.
"You were the one," Sam smiled ruefully. She really should have figured it out sooner, but she assumed she'd imagined it. "You never left. Every time my sedation lightened I could feel you next to me. Always there."
Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Danny and T were there too," he offered without denying her revelation.
"But you never left, " she smiled sadly. "I know I have no right to ask, but help me feel safe," she pleaded with her eyes, "like you used to."
There was no choice to make as Jack moved, carefully slipping under the covers next to her.
"C'mere," he said, helping her get adjusted against him. He guided her injured leg up and over his thighs. He knew from experience this position would take pressure off the muscles, allowing her to rest.
Once she was settled, he tried not to notice how perfectly she still fit against him. Her sprained wrist, which Janet had placed into an air cast, lay over his heart. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, while her face was burrowed against the fabric of his shirt.
Her breathing became slow and even, but he could tell she wasn't asleep.
"What's wrong?" He whispered into the darkness.
"What if he finds me?" Sam whispered back. "Finds us. Like this."
"There's a Beretta 9mm in your nightstand drawer, safety's on. And an MP 40 under my side of the mattress. Two tactical knives are taped to the inside of the bed frame," he also described where he'd strategically placed other weapons throughout the house. The only time he didn't have firearms on the premises was when Cassie came to visit.
"Thank you," she nodded against his body, feeling secure that they could defend themselves if need be.
"Rest," he murmured against her hair. "He won't touch you again."