AN: Continued gratitude to everyone taking time to read, review and follow me. I'm afraid for those of you who held up your hand last time, you're going to have to do it again on this one. Language and situation warnings still apply.
Coming to awareness, Jack heard the subtle awakening of nature around him in the pre-dawn morning. Listening intently to get past the rustle of the leaves on the trees and the birds calling each other, he could hear the subtle rustling of cloth upon cloth as someone shifted in their bed.
Sitting, he gently pulled the cover from his watch to see the time before glancing around at the rest of the camp. He was not surprised to see Carter watching him. Since they had come back, if they were in the same room, she had not stopped watching him. Trouble was, he had no idea why she was doing it. Was it from fear of him or concern for him? Was he being perceived as a threat that must be constantly monitored or as a touchstone that there were no nearby threats?
Frowning, Jack rose. "It's only oh-five-thirty Carter. Go back to sleep," he told her softly before heading off into the woods. When he came back a short time later, she was sitting up waiting. Stopping only long enough to pull a bottle of water from the cooler, Jack moved toward the eastern edge of the plateau to watch the sun rise.
Easing down on the rock, Jack winced has he tried to unscrew the bottle cap. He wasn't surprised when Carter's hand pushed his out of the way and loosened it. "Thanks," he said, watching as she eased herself down on the rock next to him. Seeing her gingerly movements, he grimaced at her discomfort. "How you doing?"
"Stitches in certain places suck," Sam said lowly, the small smile on her lips didn't reach her eyes. "So far, no signs of infection or other things," she said lowly, a shiver running through her. "Janet is going to want to do another examination later."
Jack's jaw clenched at her words. Looking out at the brightening horizon, he struggled to keep the water he had just swallowed down. When he felt like he could speak without spewing liquid, he said lowly, "Carter, Sam," he altered. "I don't know what is going to happen or if I'll get another chance to say this, but..."
"Don't," Sam interrupted, reaching for his hand and sliding her hand into his. "I would not have made it out alive if you hadn't been there and did what you did," she paused, looking down. When she looked back up, her eyes were brighter. "I cost you so much," she added, her voice thick with emotion.
"That's crap, Carter," Jack countered. "You didn't do anything," he barked, his voice harsh and unyielding.
Pulling her hand away, Sam stiffened. "You're right, sir. I did nothing," she stated back, self derision in her tone. "Nothing," she said again dejectedly, gaining her feet and moving to leave. Her advancement was stopped by a hand on her arm.
"Christ Sam, that's not what I meant," Jack groaned, pulling her arm to get her to sit down again. When she did, he slid his hand back into hers, his thumb sweeping the back of her hand gently before releasing it. "I meant you didn't make me do anything. That was all me." Looking away, a frown flittered over his features.
Slumping, Sam rested her shoulder against Jack's. Silence descended between the two as the sun broke the horizon and began its slow and silent advancement into the sky.
***SG1***SG1***
Sipping the water that had been handed to her, Sam grimaced as the pills scraped her throat going down. She realized that she made more of a face than she realized when her name was called. Looking up, she met Janet's questioning gaze. Shaking her head a little, she told her it was nothing new. "Sore," she said, gesturing toward her throat with a wave of her hand.
"Trouble swallowing?" the doctor asked, gently touching Sam's throat.
Flinching from the pain, Sam forced herself from not pulling away from the exam. "Not bad," she hissed out. "That hurts," she added in explanation, reaching up to stop Janet's hands from pressing any further. "Kinda bruised there," she added with forced levity, her words falling flat.
"Any trouble breathing?" Janet asked, pulling her hand back. Seeing Sam's negative reply, she nodded. "It's probably a little swollen from the bruising and the amount of pressure that was placed against it, but I want to scan it later to make sure nothing else is going on," she explained. "I'm surprised you didn't crush your trachea," she added quietly, dropping her eyes.
Drawing a shaky breath at the implications of her own words, Janet forced back the shudder that threatened to run through her body. Now was not the time for her to give into her feelings. Straightening her shoulders, she let out a slow breath. "How do you feel?" she asked.
"Stiff, sore," Sam answered, shrugging off the rest. Seeing a raised eyebrow and the unvoiced 'and,' Sam sighed and looked at the surrounding countryside. She didn't want to feel right now. "Not as jumpy," she finally offered, her gaze drifting toward the others by the fire. "Looks like breakfast is ready."
"At some point, you're going to have to talk to someone," Janet said after a moment, seeing straight through the diversionary tactic.
"Not now," Sam answered flatly. "Not until we know what's going to happen to him." With those words she stood and moved toward the fire.
As she reached her teammates, the radio broke the quiet.
"SG1 this is Hammond. Come in."
"General," Daniel responded, "Jackson here."
"Doctor Jackson. I and two SF are approaching,"
"Roger," Daniel replied, his eyes cutting to Jack who shrugged. In a few minutes, the older man appeared into view. When he did, the team gained their feet.
"Sir," the Colonel said, reading the silent message that was being relayed by the security forces staying close to the General and waiting for further orders. "Beautiful morning isn't it, sir," he added, his tone relaying a forced lightness.
"SG1, Doctor," George replied, running appraising eyes over the group. "I trust you had a restful night."
Seeing their heads shake, Janet answered. "Yes, sir. They got more sleep than any other night since their return," she added.
"Good," Hammond replied letting the word hang for a moment before turning towards Jack and squaring his shoulders. "Colonel O'Neill, Colonels French and Nelson are coming from the Pentagon to conduct an inquiry into the events surrounding your last mission. It will be their findings that will determine whether or not charges will be brought against you. However, you will be detained until that decision is made."
Although his tone was official, Jack could see the sorrow hidden in the older man's eyes. "Yes, sir," O'Neill responded calmly. He had already reasoned the purpose of the General's trek. He was flattered actually that he had made the climb to pass on the news himself. "Brig at Peterson?" he asked wondering where he would be held.
"I don't think that will be necessary, do you?" George parried back. Seeing a flash of relief and gratitude, he sighed. "Jack, this isn't my choice."
"I understand sir. I appreciate you allowing me to stay on base," Jack answered.
"General Hammond, sir." Sam's voice brought attention to her. "Colonel O"Neill isn't responsible for what happened. I am."
"Carter."
Ignoring the barked name, she continued. "Sir, if I had been a better solder..."
"CARTER!"
Faltering at the angry roar, she flinched when her commanding officer was suddenly towering in front of her. Watching him, she swallowed at the anger she saw on his features. Looking deeper she saw regret and pain in his eyes.
"Damn it, I am only going to say this one more time. You are not responsible," he bit out, each word clearly enunciated and stressed. Blowing out a breath, he ran a hand over his face. "Fuck." Dropping his hands he visibly shuddered at the memories that deluged his mind. When he continued his voice was low and raw. "Carter. You were drugged without warning by friendlies," sarcasm dripped from the categorization, "interrogated, tortured, beaten, drugged again, stripped, tied down, gang raped, and about killed yourself trying to get away. Just what part of that do you think is your fault?" he challenged, ignoring her flinch and Daniel's quiet 'oh god' at his words. A part of him felt bad for confirming to Daniel what he suspected in such blunt terms.
Denial and panic flashed across Sam's face. "If I..." she began again only to be cut off.
"It is not your fault." Jack voiced again, softer but still pressing. "None of it."
Emotions warred across Sam's pale features. Catching herself from arguing further with her superior officer, she finally whispered back, "It's not your fault either, sir."
A resigned sigh escaped O'Neill. "Yeah, well, that's where you're wrong." A sad, mirthless smile pulled on his mouth.
Seeing the brightness of tears in her eyes, he caressed her face with his eyes. "Do you trust Daniel and Teal'c?" Her immediate nod and whispered yes caused him to continue, as the tension drained from him. "Let them and Doc help you," he said. "I'll deal with this."
"Jack," Daniel interjected. "Teal'c or I will be at the hearing with you."
Shaking his head negatively, Jack didn't take his eyes from Sam. "Take care of Carter."
"O'Neill," Teal'c challenged.
"That's an order," O'Neill said sharply, glancing at the two men. "It may be the last one I ever make and I damn well expect it to be followed. Stay with Carter."
********
Pushing the record button, Colonel Albert Nelson sat back and nodded to his counterpart from the Pentagon before shifting his eyes across the table. "In the room, Colonels Albert Nelson, Tom French and Jack O'Neill. Inquiry into Stargate mission to PX9-493 and subsequent events," he recited for the record. "Time is oh-nine-ten."
"Colonel O'Neill, since our arrival yesterday, we have read your official report but now we'd like to hear from you what happened," Tom French stated, rolling a pen between his fingers. Looking across the table, he scanned the stone features of one of the the most decorated officers in the Air Force and couldn't help but wonder just how much had been left out. He wasn't a fool. He'd written his share of post action reports and knew that for every word that was put on paper, a hundred more went unsaid.
Looking at the two men who held his fate in their hands, Jack shrugged slightly. "Not much more to tell," he stated flatly. "Everything you need to know is in that report."
Frowning, French glanced down at the papers in front of him. "Colonel, our job is to understand what led up to the incident in the infirmary."
"Incident," Jack muttered mockingly, glancing away, his jaw tensing. "Is that what the Pentagon is calling it these days?" he challenged, hard eyes turning back to the other two. "A Lieutenant of the Air Force died in a non-combat situation, hell, checking on an fucking IV, and you call it an incident?"
"Colonel," Nelson snapped. "Jack," he altered, softening his tone. "I've known you for close to thirty years and I can't for the life of me fathom why you got out of your infirmary bed and snapped the neck of a junior officer who was no threat." Seeing Jack wince at the statement, he lowered his eyes for a moment before looking back up. "Help me understand this...please."
Jack felt a wave of fatigue pass through him. Hell, how could he explain something he didn't understand himself? Slumping, he ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, sure," he finally said. "What do you wanna know?"
