"Hey."
Maybe the most familiar voice in her world, yet she jumped in her seat, taken out of her own head much too abruptly by the voice from the opened door. She hadn't heard anyone come in.
"Sir."
It came out more like a hiccup than a word. Good one, Sam, you're doing great. Jack walked toward her casually after carefully closing the door behind him and locking it. He sat down close to her, she could feel the smell of his shower gel. That kind of close.
"You know," he started, drawing out his words, "soldiers cry, too."
She blanched slightly, straightening her back a little to not give too much away.
"I'm fine, sir."
He sighed deeply.
"I'll cover up the damned surveillance cameras if it'll make you feel better. But, I warn you, the guys who run those already know that you are likely to be in possession of tear ducts."
Silence stretched between them for a few seconds. All the stress and grief of the past few weeks overwhelmed her in the quietness, and she felt her eyes flood. As she sought cover in Jack's shoulder, he put his arm around her and let her bury her face in his fatigues.
"It's okay, Carter," he murmured, "you can manipulate the footage later."