Sam walked around aimlessly for hours. Her leg was now protesting, but she was too worried to notice. By now, it had been over a day and a half since she had seen Jack. She was concerned, hurt, confused and a myriad of other emotions. She ended up at their makeshift excavation site. She stood for a few moments, studying it. The tent to the side was standing over a table that had been obviously cleared in a hurry. Air Force regulation equipment, Edoran tools, a few weapons, and some dishes littered the ground to the left of the table, as if someone had swept them off from right to left. No doubt this had been where Jack had done his preliminary examination of her after she had succumbed to unconsciousness.
She turned to look at the actual dig site. It disheartened her to realize that there was absolutely no evidence pointing to a buried or even remotely functional Stargate. And that wasn't even the whole problem. If they found the Stargate without the DHD, they were practically in the same problem that they had been in before, as she doubted that she and Jack together would be able to manually dial the Stargate, let alone manage to rustle enough energy to power it.
However, she loved a challenge. She took a deep breath. This was probably the craziest thing she had ever tried to do, but nevertheless, she was going to do it. She rolled up her sleeves, grabbed one of the shovels, and walked toward the crater with a renewed determination to unbury the Stargate. After all, if Jack was in trouble, she would need help to get him out of it.
Another thought struck her. As much as it pained her to admit it, perhaps he was merely avoiding her because their…actions…had made him uncomfortable. In that case, he would relish any opportunity to be around anybody but her. That was something that this planet did not easily facilitate.
But as she sat down and began digging, deeper into herself and into the ground on which she sat, she realized that part of the reason that she was so interested in this project was that she was beginning to get bored out of her mind. There were no formulas to calculate. No other planets to explore. No alien technology for her to study. She couldn't even take a long walk or go for a run. And when she got that bored, her mind went into overdrive. Suddenly, things that never would have occurred to her otherwise became almost obsessive in their importance to her.
She would do everything in her power to make Jack happy. Even if that meant that she provided him an opportunity to never see her again.
--
It was pitch black when Jack walked back into the village. His hand was throbbing and already he could see it turning a dark purple with the blood that had been rushed to the site. It was immensely swollen, and he could feel the tips of his fingers become numb. He was now so much in pain, that he didn't mind eating a little crow. He walked up to the cottage.
"Carter!" He murmured as he staggered to the door, the pain overwhelming his mind.
There was no answer, and for a moment, he was afraid that he had stumbled to the wrong cottage. However, when he glanced inside and saw the picnic basket on the table, he realized that he was not in the wrong place. But where was Carter?
He tried to remove the cloud from his mind. He would try to splint the hand himself, but it would be impossible. And at this time of night, it was impossible to try and find Carter.
An unexpected consideration jumped into his mind. Maybe she had resumed her obsessive work on freeing the Stargate from the depths of the earth that bound it. However, he was getting cold, and he grabbed the blanket from off the bed. Surely it would help to ward off the evening breeze…and whatever side-effects he was suffering due to his hand injury.
He reached the Stargate to see Sam lying, asleep, in the ground next to a hole that she had dug. She was clutching a curious piece of metal. He wished he could have seen it better- after all, the only indication that he had had that it was metallic was the fact that it was reflecting the limited moonlight.
She looked like she had been crying from the look of the mud that was pooled next her cheek. Suddenly, the pain in his hand was nothing compared to the guilt that he felt. Obviously when he left to think, he had hurt her.
"Sam…" He whispered.
She did not wake. "Sam." He tried again.
She stirred, "I told you! The Stargate is not operational!"
He stood still, startled by the frustrated sound of her tired voice. When he became conscious to the fact that she had been dreaming, he almost draped the blanket over her to leave her to her sleep. However, he realized that his hand would end up much like her leg if he waited much longer before he had her set it. "Carter!" He said, a little louder.
She jolted awake. "Sir?"
"Nice to have you back, Carter."
She looked up at him, blinking. "Is this a dream?" She asked.
"What?"
"Where the hell have you been?" She demanded, standing up. Instantly her leg protested, and she bent down to massage it.
"Uh, well…"
She stood up, instantly as intimidating as she had been before. "Well…"
"Let's go home, then we'll talk about it." He said, gritting his teeth.
Her eyes drifted to his hand, which he was quite obviously favoring. "What happened to your hand?"
"Uh…"
She took hold of his good arm and guided him firmly back to the cottage where she saw, in the soft glow of the oil lamp, the purple tint to his skin.
"What happened?" She asked, more soothingly, as she reached for it.
He grimaced. "I think I broke it."
"How?"
He looked at her somewhat sheepishly. However, the look was thwarted with the look of weakness that passed as it would over someone who was about to pass out. Instantly, she guided him to the bed where he laid down. Sure enough, in a couple of seconds, he passed out cold. For once, she was grateful. It would give her the opportunity that she needed to set his hand without him yelping in pain. She remembered her last experience binding up one of his broken bones. Needless to say, she had not wanted to relive the occasion, but one didn't get to choose the curve balls that life threw at them.
With all of the swelling it was hard for her to tell where the actual bones that needed to be set were. Thank goodness she still had a great supply of anti-inflammatory medication. It was over-the-counter ibuprofen, but it was certainly worth its weight in gold now. She reached into her bag and found the pills. He was going to need as much ibuprofen as he would get in the infirmary and so she took four of the 200 mg pills out of the bottle.
"Jack." She said, gently as she tried to shake him awake.
He managed at last to return to consciousness for a moment.
"Jack, I need you to take these. They're going to help get the swelling down so that I can make sure I'm setting the bones correctly."
He nodded somewhat deliriously, and she reached for a glass of cold water. "Here you go."
She supported his head as he swallowed the tablets. "Thanks." He said, after he swallowed.
She smiled. "You're welcome."
Almost instantly, he drifted back into unconsciousness. Over the next half an hour, she could see the inflammation go down a little in his hand. While she waited, she gathered some straight boards and some material to bind his hand.
She grimaced herself as she reached for his hand. She felt each bone, extending from his wrist- which she could almost instantly tell was broken- to his fingertips. As she did so, she could feel a couple of his bones move. It almost sickened her to realize the extent of the damage he had done to his hand. But ultimately, she was glad that he was already unconscious; this was going to hurt like hell.
--
A few hours later, Jack awoke. His hand was strangely stiff, and he looked over at it. There was a splint on it, and suddenly, he remembered breaking his hand. In a chair nearby, Sam sat, asleep.
"Sam!" He whispered, trying to get out of the bed.
She jolted. "Huh?"
"Hey." He said, smiling.
"Oh. Hi."
"Thanks." He said, raising the splinted hand.
"No problem." She said, giving him a tight smile.
"I guess we have some things to talk about."
"You always were the bright one." She replied.
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that sarcasm?"
"What do you think, Einstein?"
Jack chewed his lip for a few moments. "Sam, I know I shouldn't have just gone off…"
"Ya think?"
"Knock it off!" He finally thundered.
She looked surprised at him, but it was enough to give him a running chance at finishing his thoughts.
"Sam, I know it's no excuse, but I had to go off and think about things."
She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Things? We're deserted on a planet that's several hundred thousand light years from Earth, and you're thinking about things?"
"Carter…" He growled.
"Continue." She gave in.
"If- and I stress if- we do get rescued, we will probably be rightly accused of breaking fraternization regulations."
She pursed her lips together, clearly fighting off some reaction.
"What?"
"Do you have ANYTHING better to do than think about frat regs?" She asked, irritated.
"Don't give me that. You've been the one who's been so anal about sticking to them anyway! I would have retired, but no…we're both needed at the SGC."
"We are!"
"And they're surviving without us, apparently."
She swallowed back tears and turned her face from him. Neither of them were entirely certain that Earth was surviving without their help, but it didn't matter, there was nothing they could do to help…at all.
"Sam…" He said, somewhat regretfully.
She turned. "I'm fine. Continue."
"Well, I realized something. While you were feverish…before you passed out, actually…you resigned."
"I know." She returned, still aggravated.
"You do?"
"Of course I do." She snapped.
"But I thought you were…I mean, you just…You came back and called me sir!" He stuttered.
"Because that's what you wanted me to do."
Jack was now thoroughly confused. "I really don't understand anything that's going on right now."
She took a deep breath. "Even if I hadn't resigned, do you really think the Air Force would take someone like me back into the service?"
"Of course!" He said in a heartbeat. "You're strong, brave, brilliant, beautiful…"
"Crippled." She added, nonchalantly.
He looked at her. "What?"
"Oh come on, you don't expect me to believe that you forgot? I can't meet the physical requirements of being an Air Force field officer."
He looked at her leg, which she had begun massaging, the pain becoming more intense with each barb she threw in Jack's general direction.
"I…I didn't realize that."
"You didn't? I did."
Jack looked at his hand again. "Chances are I'll get a medical discharge too. I mean, if we ever get out of here."
She had been about to cry, when instead of tears, laughter erupted from her.
"What?"
She couldn't stop laughing long enough to explain. The fact that he was mourning the loss of his grip on his P-90 when they had a small chance of rescue at all, was suddenly remarkably amusing.
"Carter!"
"I'm sorry, Jack. I just…you're upset because you can't hold your P-90, aren't you?"
He mumbled something that sounded something like 'So?'
She shook her head in amusement. "I can't believe you!"
"Hey! It's not funny."
"You're afraid they'll discharge you because of a wrist and hand injury?" That led her into another peal of giggles.
"Major, no giggling."
She wrapped her fingers around her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to control her giggles.
Jack shook his head, and let a small laugh escape his own mouth. If you can't beat them, he thought, you might as well join them.