AN: Greetings friends. Want to take a moment to give a shout out to the "Guest" reviewers. Thank you for taking the time to give me your feedback.
Information about the members and purpose of various SG teams is from Stargate Wikia. Summary for you as it's going to get a little busy here: SG-3 -Marine combat/search and rescue, led by Colonel Reynolds; SG-5 - Marine combat, led by Major Altman; SG-6 search and rescue, led by Colonel Barnes; SG12 Medical/military, no identified members on site (I'll name the leader I'm sure at some point :)).
***SG1***SG1***
Rapping his knuckle on the door softly, Jack waited until the General acknowledge him. "Sir, you wanted to see me?" he asked, coming into the room.
"Colonel," Hammond greeted, gesturing toward the chair. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Jack quipped automatically. "Starting to go a little bug eyed writing personnel evaluations, but other than that I'm fine." Watching as the older man attempted to smile and nod, Jack sobered. "Any word from SG-5?"
"They're close to the three hour deadline," Hammond said his eyes going to the clock on the wall. "We'll know soon." The sound of the sirens indicating an incoming wormhole had both men on their feet and moving.
"Sergeant?" Hammond called before his feet had hit the last step.
"It's SG-5, Sir," Walter reported, already transferring the connection so that Hammond could speak to them.
"SG-5, this is Hammond. Major Altman, report."
"Sir, we found them. UAV finally got close enough. They're pinned down approximately twelve clicks, south, southwest of the gate. Some injuries, mostly minor, except for Colonel Nelson. He took a staff blast."
"Roger. Are you secure Major?"
"Yes Sir."
"Roger," Hammond replied, his eyes darting to Jack with a renewed determination to bring home his men. "Reinforcements are on their way Major. Sit tight."
"Yes, Sir. We'll keep the door open. Altman out."
"Sergeant, I want SGs six and twelve geared up and ready in thirty minutes."
"Sir, request permission for SG-1 to lead."
Surprise flashed across George's face. "Colonel," he began only to be interrupted.
"Sir," Jack said softly, tipping his head toward an unoccupied corner to ask if they could speak in private. Following the older man, he barely waited for the General to face him before he started. "I'm fine," Jack said softly, to keep others from hearing. "We'll go, take a little walk, meet up with the others, and all be back for supper."
"Jack..." George pushed back only to be cut off.
"Sir," Jack started, his gaze piercing into the older man's eyes. "Look, we both know that there's going to be hell to pay if those two get killed." He didn't have to say Nelson and French's names. "And we both know if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't be here. Let me help clean this up."
Watching him, Hammond weighed the passionate words. "This isn't your fault Jack," he said. "I ordered them to go to the planet, not you."
"Please General." Glancing away, he looked down before looking back. "I need to do this."
The raw frankness of Jack's words made Hammond's eyes widen in surprise. A sense of uneasiness washed over him. "To do what?" he pushed. "Get yourself killed?"
Surprise flickered over Jack's face. "No. No Sir," he rushed back. Letting out a breath, he forced his body to relax. "I understand why you might be wondering that," Jack said, "but I have no intention of dying today." A small smile pulled on his lips. "That wouldn't look very good for you either, Sir."
Looking into Jack's eyes, Hammond nodded once at him when he saw the truth of the words in his eyes. "Then why?" he grunted out.
"Let's just say I need to get something like this under my belt before Carter gets back," he said, his voice gravely, his features somber.
A slow nod of understanding met the words. A critical mission with high potential for casualties or capture without the added stress of worrying about how she might react or deal with his own emotions of her being at risk. "You know you aren't cleared yet."
"Fraiser will clear me if you say you need me."
The simply truth of that statement stabbed at George's soul. "And what about how you'll react, Jack? You went through hell on that last mission too. Have you thought about that?"
Jack glanced away and back to buy time. A slight lift of one shoulder told George he had thought about it and was not sure what could happen. "You can order Barnes to take command if it becomes a problem."
"By who's definition of a problem?" George pressed dryly, pondering the potential power struggle that could result from the other Colonel trying to assume command if Jack did not agree it was time.
Jack's shoulders dropped understanding the scenario being contemplated. "Teal'c's," he finally said, locking eyes with his commander. "If Teal'c thinks I'm losing it, I'll turn over command."
Pursing his lips, the General weighed the proposal. "And I have your word that if that happens, you'll follow Barnes' orders to the letter, without question?"
A wince creased Jack's face at the idea. Knowing he really had no choice if he was going to be allowed on the mission, he squared his shoulders. "Yes, Sir."
***SG1***SG1***
"You're sure you're up for this?" Daniel asked, standing behind Jack as he tied his boot laces.
"Hammond's signed off on it." Standing, he reached for his vest and shrugged it on.
"And Janet? Doctor Rogers?"
Stopping his movement, Jack turned around to look at this friend, a frown on his face. "Daniel?"
Looking away, the younger man tried to find the way to say what he needed to without making Jack angry. Giving up, he decided to be direct. "I think it's too soon," he finally said, looking back at him. "You're not ready."
"Because?" The word held curiosity and a slight demand for an explanation.
"Because you still blame yourself for what happened." Daniel knew there was truth in his assessment when Jack's motion stopped.
"I wasn't the one who hurt SG-10 or raped Carter," he replied, his voice gruff, his fingers finding the zipper on his vest to connect it.
"And you didn't stop it either." Wincing at how the words sounded, Daniel softened his voice. "I don't blame you, Jack. I just think you need more time to realize you did everything you could and that you don't have anything to prove here."
Jack snapped into motion, gathering his gloves and hat from the shelf. "I'll be fine." Looking past Daniel to see that Teal'c was fully geared, he tipped his chin up. "Let's go."
Waiting until Jack brushed past him and left the room, Daniel turned slowly toward his remaining teammate. "Teal'c?"
"General Hammond has instructed I pay close attention to O'Neill and if I believe he is, as you say, loosing it, to bring him immediately back," the Jaffa intoned solemnly.
"He'll fight you." The words were flat.
"He shall loose," Teal'c replied.
***SG1***SG1***
"Sam, I can't talk right now." Daniel winced as he ducked his head to try to hear her on the telephone over the clatter in the control room around him. "Heading out," he added, glancing back and seeing Jack's gesture for him to come on. "Hopefully be back tonight, but it could be tomorrow," he said, in response to her question of how long. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice a little too rushed to be telling the whole truth. "It's okay. I'll call... Eh... Do you know if the Colonel is at home?"
A pause met her question before Daniel responded. "Jack's going with us."
"Oh," Sam breathed into the phone, shock making it hard for her to form coherent thoughts. "Okay," she finally stuttered out. "Be safe. Call me when you get back?" Hearing him agree before signing off, she looked at the cell phone in her hand, a frown on her face. She had heard enough of the background noise to know that something big was happening. The knowledge that Jack was going off world when he was on medical leave confirmed it.
Putting the phone on the nightstand beside her bed, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head against the wall behind her. Looking up at the clock, she began to wait.
***SG1***SG1***
"Major," Jack said nodding to Altman as he came down the steps off the Stargate base. Scanning the surrounding area, he acknowledged the other three members of SG-5 with nods as he heard the others come through and the gate shut down.
"Colonel." The surprise was evident in the reply of the SG-5 leader's voice. Shaking it off, Major Altman added, "Gate secured. Haven't seen any Jaffa for more than two hours, Sir."
Nodding, Jack gestured toward the two members of SG-6 carrying a transport box. "Brought you some claymores, grenades and ammo. Keep it that way."
"Yes, Sir."
"If we're not back or you haven't heard from us by dawn tomorrow, head back to the SGC." Seeing the hesitant nod of agreement, Jack raised his voice. "SG-6, two of you stay here with Five. The other two, watch our sixes. Let's move," Jack called out.
***SG1***SG1***
Entering the room, Doctor Rogers ran assessing eyes over the woman curled up on the bed. The report of her withdrawal and refusal to eat lunch or attend the afternoon session had her concerned. Pulling a chair over, she eased into it. "Major Carter," she said in greeting.
"Sam," came back in a low reply.
A crease pulled on Tiffany's forehead. "Sam," she conceded momentarily. "How'd your group go this morning?"
"Fine." Another muffled short reply.
"Ah. Feelings internalized not expressed. Got it," Rogers replied, her voice carrying a forced lightness.
Blue curious eyes finally met her's. "What?"
"Fine. An acronym for feelings internalized not expressed," Tiffany repeated. A snort met her words. Watching as Sam laid her head back down, she added. "Want to share some of those feelings now?"
"Did you clear him?"
It was Tiffany's turn to be confused. "I'm sorry? Clear who?"
"Colonel O'Neill."
A flicker of uneasiness passed through the doctor. "Why do you ask?"
Sighing, Sam unfurled and sat up. "I called Daniel. He was heading out on a mission. The Colonel was going with him."
Forcing her features to not give anything away, Tiffany nodded. "I see. And you think this means?"
A frown crossed Sam's brow. "Either something really bad is going on," her eyes flickering toward the doctor to see if she picked up the potential world domination or destruction meaning of her inflection, "or..."
"Or?" The doctor prodded when the silence hung a little too long.
"Or," Sam repeated, her eyes falling closed. "Or, I don't know what it means," she finished flatly, revealing the words were not the entire truth.
"But you have a guess."
Another snort answered her. "Several," Sam finally conceded.
"And at least some of them involve you no longer being able to be a soldier." An uncomfortable shift met Roger's words and told her she was close. "And I'm betting the others are that either he doesn't care or you're more messed up than you thought if he can shrug everything off this fast."
Sam ran a hand through her hair to buy time. "Some in varying combinations of all of the above," she confessed, her voice raw.
A throaty sound answered the Major. "Two soldiers on patrol. One steps on a land mine. The other is thrown several feet and is hit with shrapnel. Both survive. Who goes back to work sooner?"
A dismissive wave accompanied the words, "It's not the same."
"Yes, it is, Sam," Tiffany leaned forward and rested her arms on her legs. "You stepped on an emotional landmine and Colonel O'Neill received secondary injuries. In many ways, he stepped on his own landmine and you have secondary injuries from that," she murmured. Shaking off the thought, she took a breath. "The point is that both of you were impacted and both are and will continue to be affected. The injuries may not be visible but they are there. For both of you."
A visible swallow passed down Sam's throat. "Then how can he...?"
"Go on a mission?" Tiffany finished for her, her eyes drifting to the window in thought. "Lots of factors go into determining how any person will react to a traumatic event and how they will cope with it. Experience, initial reaction by others, knowledge, support system, beliefs, the work they do, age, how they were raised," she let out a breath. "I could go on. The point is that there is no wrong or right way to do it."
Looking back, she saw bright blue eyes watching her intently. "What I'm trying to say here is that there is no magic pill. The Colonel is using everything he knows, every tool he has learned in the past to get through this just like you are. Only difference is that he may have different tools than you."
"Iraq, Charlie," Sam breathed out, dipping her head to lay her forehead on her knees.
"It's possible," Tiffany confirmed. "I don't think he's trying to give you any message Sam, except maybe to show you that it is possible to go on."
Sam lifted her head enough to rest her chin on her knees. "And if I can't recover from this; make things like the way they were?"
A sad ironic smile pulled on Tiffany's lips. "That's not going to happen." Sam's head jerking up in shock had her shaking her own head slowly in confirmation. "I'm not saying you can't do things you did in the past. I'm saying you," she stressed the word, "can't go back to the way you were any more than a bell can be un-rung. This is like any other physical injury," her chin gesturing to the cut on Sam's arm. "It'll heal, but there will be some residual damage. You have to understand and accept that."
Seeing Sam's distress, she reached up and squeezed her arm, her voice encouraging. "You can't go back, but you can move forward. Recovering from a traumatic event is a journey, not a destination and you are," she stressed the word, "on that journey, Sam. Every time you talk about it, every time you fight off the feeling of drowning in a memory, you are recovering. Every time you take a chance to take one more step forward, to face one more doubt or fear, to continue to accept what has had happened and to keep on living, you are recovering."
"Will I always feel like this?" Sam asked, a tear trailing slowly down her cheek.
Tiffany shook her head and smiled encouragingly. "No, not like you are now. There will be days the pain will be so excruciating you'd give anything to cut it out of you. Then, they'll be days it won't even cross your mind. Most days, it'll be somewhere in between; a slight distant ache but one you do not allow to dominate or dictate your actions or thoughts."
Letting the words swirl in her mind, Sam weighed them against everything else she knew or had seen. Drawing in a shuddered breath to calm herself, she let it out as she wiped her hands over her cheeks to remove the wetness. "Okay," she breathed out, feeling a peace that she had not felt in weeks begin to seep into her. "I can do that."
***SG1***SG1***
AN: This chapter is pretty important in both Jack and Sam's recovery. May not seem like it at first, but trust me, it is. To everyone who is on this journey, I send you hugs and my deepest respect.
