A weight on the bed by her hand brought Sam back to consciousness. She shifted, and a groan met her ear.
Jack?
Her heart swelled with love as she caught sight of that familiar gray cowlick—immediately followed by a squeeze of worry. What was he doing here? She was supposed to be in full quarantine. He was supposed to keep himself isolated for fourteen days in case he came down with the virus she'd exposed him to.
Maybe she was dreaming.
That thought was even more chilling than the idea that Jack had somehow sneaked past the nurses and staff into her room so he could sleep beside her in the room which the nurses darkened from about ten in the evening until eight in the morning.
She looked down at her hand, encompassed in Jack's larger, gloved one. She caressed the back of his hand, a little perturbed at the synthetic smoothness of the glove against the pad of her thumb.
Still, it reassured her racing heart.
Even her mind couldn't have imagined a day where Jack appeared in her hospital room, wearing gloves to protect himself and her. This was real. Not whatever twisted dream realm had shaken her belief in reality.
Jack sat up, a paper mask over his nose and mouth as he blinked awake. "Carter?"
"What are you doing here?"
Jack offered her the shrug that often accompanied his playful smile. "I'm black ops, Carter. You don't think I could manage to get past a couple nurses?"
"You bribed them, didn't you?"
Even in the dark, his brown eyes sparkled with good humor. She'd missed that more than she could ever explain. "Hey, that's just one strategy of many in a good black ops toolkit, Carter."
She had to bite back a laugh, knowing that she would likely start coughing if she gave into the temptation.
He stood, stretched his back, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. Though she would have preferred the feel of his lips on hers, that sensation of paper against her forehead wasn't something she would have been able to fabricate either.
This is real.
He sat beside her on the bed, and his hands roamed her arms as if he needed to know as much as she did that this was real.
"You shouldn't be here, Jack."
He motioned to the square hiding most of his face. "You're lucky I'm wearing the mask."
Her own plastic oxygen mask rubbed against the sensitive skin around her nose and mouth, but she resisted the urge to remove it. "I thought we established that already, Jack. It's not safe for you to be here."
He raised a finger to protest her point. "No. You locked me out. Which we're not done discussing by the way. We're gonna have a nice proper fight about that once you're back to being more like yourself."
Sam took a labored breath. "Can't wait."
Softening, Jack squeezed her hand. "Like I said, that's a problem for another day. I promised in sickness and in health. I'm not letting this coronavirus steal any more of our six weeks a year together."
She fixed her gaze on him. "Jack, trust me, you don't want to get this."
"I've had worse."
She closed her eyes at the futility of it. "Even if that's true, and I'm not so sure it is, you had to get a symbiote last time you had something like this. Jack, if anything happened to you—"
He leaned in close, making sure she could see the seriousness in his eyes. "I'm only gonna say this once, okay?"
She tensed, pretty sure he was finally going to bring up her job and the fact that she'd asked him to stay behind while she went off on adventures, from her time at R&D to Atlantis. Now, on the Hammond. Their entire married life, they'd only spent a handful of stolen moments together. Six weeks or less of normalcy in a sea of adventure.
And she had the audacity to complain about how many risks he took.
She knew it was hypocritical. She knew it wasn't fair. That didn't seem to stop her. Still, she was due for a reality check, but that didn't mean she was excited about it. She breathed in and looked into his brown eyes.
"I never let you wake up in the infirmary alone when you were on my team, and it felt wrong that I wasn't here when you're my wife. So, I will do anything I can to get the doctors, the nurses, the CDC, and anyone else on my side here. I'm not going anywhere, Sam, and at least for now, you can't make me."
Tears slipped past her defenses and trailed lines down her cheeks, favoring the creases made by her mask.
Jack gently brushed them away. "Besides, I wanted to hear more about these Fifth-inspired dreams you've been having. Thought maybe I could help."
She grimaced, letting her gaze drop to the sheets. "There's nothing to do. My brain needed a problem to solve, and it fabricated an alternate timeline. In order to convince myself that it wasn't real, I made it look like Fifth was responsible."
The last thing she wanted to do was admit how much she'd wanted those dreams to be true.
There was a long moment before Jack spoke again. "Okay, we'll shelve that for now. How about this not wanting to go back to the ship? Are we gonna talk about that or are you gonna tell me that was all just a feverish haze?"
She didn't know what she meant, couldn't figure out what she wanted. In some ways, it was the same thing that had kept her from admitting her feelings for Jack. In others, it was worse because she was still restless, still unwilling to trust that she could have everything she wanted. "Jack, I'm getting tired. Can we talk about this in the morning?"
He checked his watch, the smartwatch lighting up for him as he tapped the screen. "It is morning, Sam."
Between struggling for breath and the way her head pounded, she needed rest. "Later, then."
She didn't let go of his hand, just leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes.
Jack just sighed as he rested his cheek against hers. Though it wasn't as good as one of his hugs or a kiss, it was intimate, and she let herself enjoy the sensation of having him close for the first time in over a week.
Unfortunately, that sensation triggered one of the memories of that fever dream, of the fake Jack O'Neill she'd let herself believe in. Shame twisted her stomach. After everything she'd seen, she'd given in. What did that say about her?
Even in the darkness, she could see the hurt in Jack's eyes, but instead of reacting, he flexed his jaw. "Someday, you're not going to be able to make that excuse, Carter. You're gonna have to talk to me sometime."
She bit the inside of her cheek as she let her eyes drift closed. Maybe he was right, but today was not that day.
"Hey, Jack, is this a bad time?"
Daniel groaned inwardly. He sounded like an idiot. Perfect.
Jack heaved a sigh. "Danny, it's eight-thirty in the morning during lockdown. What do you think?"
There were footsteps and a creak of a door. Both of which made Daniel wonder if Jack was hiding from someone, or at least trying not to wake someone. Wait—
"Is Sam home already? I thought she would have been in the hospital for another couple of weeks at least."
Jack yawned. "Sam's not home, but she is sleeping. How can I help you, Danny?"
Daniel pursed his lips. "Are you in the hospital?"
"Yes, but it's not what you think. I'm healthy."
"I think you used your black ops skills to sneak into Sam's room at the hospital."
The General was quiet for a moment. "Well, uh, maybe it's exactly what you think. What's up?"
Daniel steeled himself. "SG-1 is back at work, given the fact that the Lucian Alliance still has something up their sleeves, and Vala is—well, you know."
"AWOL?"
Daniel grunted. "Seriously, Jack?"
"What? It appropriately describes the situation, does it not?"
Daniel was instantly on guard. "She sent the ship back, Jack. She's not doing anything more than what you, yourself, would have done if your intelligence had been ignored. What more do you want?"
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger."
He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I didn't call to talk about Vala, I called to see how you are. Maybe find out how Sam's doing."
Jack heaved a sigh.
All of Daniel's defensiveness deflated at that sound. Jack O'Neill sighing was never a good thing. "Jack?"
"I can't figure it out, Daniel. One minute, she's happy to see me, and the next, it's as if we're back to being sir and Carter."
Daniel winced.
"Actually, no. Scratch that. At least we flirted a little when we thought we were alone back when we were sir and Carter. No, this is more like she can't stand the sight of me."
"Well, I haven't experienced it, but it sounds like COVID-19 messes with your head a fair bit. I mean, it makes sense. When you're deprived of oxygen, your brain doesn't function properly, so your perception of reality is skewed. Maybe that's why she's quiet."
Jack was quiet, and Daniel wondered if he'd said the wrong thing.
"She's a strong woman, Jack. I'm sure she'll be back to her old self in no time. You'll see."
Jack cleared his throat. "I just wish I could help, but it seems everything I try—" He groaned. "Something tells me I owe Sara an apology."
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Sara? Your ex-wife, Sara?"
Jack sighed. "I guess I never realized how lonely it could be, being on her side of things. Karma took care of that, though..."
"What are you talking about? Sara's side of what? Your divorce? All because Sam's not talking?"
Jack puffed out a breath of air. "Never mind, Danny. I should get back to Sam. You—you help Reynolds and his people find Vala, okay?"
"Because they're going to be so much better at it than the people who actually work with her."
Jack grunted as if he protested Daniel's tone.
"Sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not your fault that COVID-19 is messing with everything."
"If we find out there's someone to blame, I'd love to have first crack at them."
For the first time in several years, Daniel worried that his friend would do something stupid. "Look, Jack, I'm here in case you wanna talk."
"Thanks, Daniel, I appreciate it. Really. But I gotta go."
Daniel said his goodbyes and ended the call, but something about the call unnerved him. Something told him he didn't as much about his friends as he thought he did. Something about comparing himself to Sara made Daniel wonder—
It always seemed a little strange to him that Sam and Jack hadn't had kids in all these years, but he'd chalked it up to some overabundance of caution because of their military ranks. After all, they'd only exchanged vows on an alien planet in front of two witnesses. Besides, everyone knew how much Sam and Jack both loved their jobs.
Now, however, something told him there was more of a story there than he'd realized.
He shook the thoughts from his mind. It was none of his business. Jack and Sam were entitled to a little privacy. Especially in this area of their life. If and when they wanted to talk to him, they knew where to find him.
He heard the footsteps before he saw Mitchell poke his head around the corner, careful to stay in the doorway so they were at least six feet apart. "Jackson."
The mere sight of Mitchell put Daniel's whole body on alert just like those early days of the Stargate program when he'd been searching for Sha're. His heart squeezed as he caught the serious look on his friend's face. Something was wrong.
He almost couldn't breathe as he stood and faced the Air Force Colonel. He'd forgotten just how painful it could be to have half your heart outside your body. This was the precise reason he'd resisted Vala's charms as long as he had. He'd known the moment he first suspected he had feelings for her that she would leave him, rush off on another adventure as he picked up the pieces of his broken heart. "Yeah?"
Mitchell exhaled slowly, apparently more than a little reluctant to share what he knew. "It's Reynolds. He's heard something."
