Disclaimer: See first part.
A/N: I didn't expect this much of a response! Thank you all so much for reading my story, and letting me know. Almost every one of you asked me to continue, too, which I hadn't expected. This is not intended as a sequel. I have no plans for one at the moment. This is, however, to explain why Sam was unhappy and what her dream was. The reason I'm writing this is because I meant to include it in the first half, but it didn't fit. I also didn't think her dream should be typical, and I hope I succeeded. So please read, enjoy, and review.
Cling
It had been the longest day of her life. She'd been up for seventy two hours (that might have had something to do with it), and then she'd been sent in as part of a team to negotiate with a group of aliens who'd taken SG-9 hostage. They hadn't been able to save everyone; it turned out two of them had been killed before their captors had made any sort of demand. Those were the missions she hated; hours of nerve-wracking talks with truly evil people followed by a total letdown.
She'd been ordered off the base eventually, and when she got home she collapsed onto her bed, fully dressed. She had only time to kick off her shoes before she was out like a light.
It took her a moment to realize that she'd fallen asleep, because the dream was one of those ones that felt completely real. In the end, she guessed because she was back on base, and there was no way in hell she'd be allowed back until she'd gotten some sleep.
She was in her lab, staring down at something she'd never seen before. It was some alien device, and she got the feeling that it was vital to... something. She didn't know what. But when she reached down to touch it gently, it seemed to explode on her and the next thing she knew she was in the infirmary, and a nurse was bending over her.
"You're going to be fine, Ma'am. Just relax."
It was an odd dream. Really, it was very different from her normal dreams of death and destruction. In a way, this was worse. Death and destruction would have distracted her from the emotional stress she'd been under recently. Here, trapped in a hospital bed until her body woke up, she could do nothing but replay the events of the last three days in her mind. She could see the two soldiers from SG-9, lying stripped to their underwear by their captors, not breathing.
And then, intruding into her misery, someone sat down on the bed next to her. She opened her eyes to see Jack, looking down with a faint frown. "Sam?" His tone offered comfort, and she took it, rolling over to curl around him. He murmured something else that sounded like "beautiful" and slid a hand into her hair.
"What have you been doing to yourself?" His tone was worried, and she didn't want to dislodge herself to placate him, so she reached across his lap and grabbed his leg.
"Jeez, Carter..."
She couldn't look up. If she did, she was afraid she might see censure or annoyance in his eyes, and she wasn't sure she could take that, not even in dreams.
"Don't go." She knew she was begging, but it didn't matter. "Not this time."
"I won't." He ran his free hand across her back, rubbing gently. "I won't leave, you have my word."
"Mmmm..." She smiled. Though it had started out oddly, badly even, this was rapidly shaping up to be one of her better dreams ever. And, because it was a dream and she felt like you should try to be honest with yourself even in dreams, she buried her face between the bed and his leg and muttered, "I love you."
"I love you too, Sam." His hand was moving through her hair again. "I promise I'm not going anywhere. Just rest." He continued to talk, slow, quiet murmurs that had her slipping deeper into sleep, until her dream faded to black and her last thought as his face disappeared was that he was so warm and so real.
A/N: All done. I don't know if I want to try to deal with the morning after, so to speak...
