Hello! A voice from the deep dark depths of work land here. Well, the six weeks turned into eight and I have had no time to write. So apologies for keeping everyone waiting. Keep your fingers crossed. I think it is easing off now. Here's a short chapter to get both us back into it. There is a language warning on this one as one Jack O'Neill is… well, having a rough day. A huge thank you for the support and understanding while I have had to step away. Hopefully this one isn't too bad. Enjoy.

***SG1***SG1***

Striding into the control room, Jack's eyes darted toward the monitors before he snapped, "Any idea who it is?"

"No Sir," Harriman threw back, his fingers gliding over the keyboard, typing in orders. "No signal yet. No indication of radiation or magnetic waves." He had just finished saying that when his hand went to the earpiece on his head. Looking at the monitor, he confirmed what the tones were telling him. "General, it's SG-10. Hostiles in the area. They're requesting medical."

Snatching the phone off the wall, Jack called for a medical team to get to the gate room. Turning back, he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. "Open the door," he ordered.

Watching, Jack tensed more with each minute that passed with no one appearing. "Sergeant?" he prodded after what felt like an eternity. Seeing a negative shake of his head, Jack's eyes darted back to the gate. His breathing stopped when the first of the team stumbled through. Captain Shelby was hunched over holding an obviously broken arm to his chest.

Bile pulled at Jack's throat as the man was helped from the ramp and time again stood still while they waited. It seemed like an eternity before another stepped through, a body over his shoulder. "Close it up," rang through the room as Major Hitch staggered under the weight of the body, his own injuries obvious. Falling to his knees, he rolled the person off his shoulders to the ramp. As it was laid out, the lifeless eyes of Major Samantha Carter peered up at the control window.

"NO! CARTER!" Jack screamed, jerking upright. Eyes darting around the vaguely familiar room, he fought to control his labored breathing and orientate himself in the darkness.

Light filtered into the room from the hallway as the door was opened. "Jack?" Daniel said hesitantly. Seeing the remnants of horror and fear on Jack's face, he moved closer cautiously. "It's okay. It was just a nightmare," he said gently, hoping it would help him catalog whatever it was that he had dreamed about as not having actually happened.

Daniel's words and calming tone sank into Jack, helping him to remember he was in his friend's guest bedroom. "Shit," Jack breathed, shaky hands scrubbing over his face to erase the tears and lingering image of Carter that remained before him. Throwing himself backwards, he kept his hands over his face as he felt his heart still trying to beat through his chest.

"You okay?" Daniel's voice was tight, his concern evident.

Lifeless blue eyes continued to haunt him, taunting that he couldn't save her. Her fate was determined and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The screaming in his head from the thought overwhelmed the part that was trying to reason that Carter was safe and would never go through the gate again. His stomach heaved, causing him to scramble out of the bed to dart to the bathroom.

Moving out of the guest bedroom, Daniel winced at the retching sounds emanating from the bathroom. Going back, he rummaged in the dresser to find some spare clothes. Pulling out underwear and a t-shirt, he frowned. He couldn't count the number of times he had known Jack had had nightmares over the years, either being awakened from the muttering and restless movements during it or later from the haggard sleepless face in the morning and the subtle nod from whoever happened to be sleeping near him. That said, never had he heard Jack screaming like he had tonight.

Flushing the toilet, Jack slumped against the wall across from it, allowing the coolness of the tile to seep into his body. He had hoped that maybe he could get through the night without the nightmares happening. Mentally kicking himself for not staying on base or going to his own house after he left Hammond's, he didn't relish the coming questions from his host.

Resting his arms on his knees, Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to force his mind to stop its racing. Grimacing as the image of Sam's lifeless eyes popped back into his mental view, he snapped his eyes back open. "Son of a bitch," he breathed, running a hand over his face again. The nightmares had been all too common lately, but most of the time, they had been about what had actually happened, not this. Not of Sam being dead. The thought sent a shudder through his body and made his stomach roll again. Fighting back the nausea, he took in a shaky breath to try to calm it.

"Jack?" Daniel said knocking on the door. Easing open the door far enough to cautiously stick his head in, he eyed the older man on the floor. "You okay?" Noting the resolute lack of eye contact, he sighed. "Brought you some clothes if you want to take a shower," he finally said when the silence continued. Laying them on the counter, he closed the door.

Grimacing, Daniel moved towards the kitchen, his hands going about the task of making coffee while his mind focused on sounds of movement from down the hall. The coffee was brewed and he was well into his first cup before he heard the shower turn on.

He was on his third before Jack appeared, dressed, with his overnight bag in his hand. "Stripped the bed," Jack said, his voice flat as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

"Okay," Daniel acknowledged, glancing at the clock on the wall that told him it was a little after four. "Thought your hop didn't leave 'til after eight?"

Shrugging, Jack leaned against the counter. "Thought I'd head over, see if I could catch an earlier one."

Noting the fact that Jack was looking past him, not at him, Daniel grunted in acknowledgement. Deliberating setting down the mug, he sighed. "You want to talk about it?" A 'what do you think' look made him sigh again. "Jack," he began only to be cut off.

"It was a nightmare," Jack growled in his best surly voice. "I woke up. It didn't really happen. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Daniel snapped back, tired and worried enough to respond in the same brusque tone as he had been spoken to. "You look like hell, so this isn't the only night it's happened lately." Jack's flinch told him he was correct. "And I've never heard you scream like that," he added after a moment.

"Yeah, well, you aren't around every night," Jack quipped, his husky, low tone not quite making it the sarcastic, irreverent comment he had hoped for.

Hearing the underlying pain, Daniel felt the anger drain out of him. Running a finger up the side of the mug, he swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat. "Was it about what happened to Sam?" he asked quietly. Chancing a glance, he cleared his throat not sure how what he was going to say would be received. "You yelled for her."

Bile and coffee etched up Jack's throat at the memory Daniel's words invoked. Averting his face, he forced his body to take a deep breath to try to calm it. Getting up from the chair he had just sank into, he poured out the nearly full cup of coffee into the sink. Knowing that Daniel would keep pushing if he didn't tell him something, he muttered, "close enough." The truth of the statement made him want to heave his guts up again.

Reading the body language before him, Daniel winced. Pushing any more wouldn't help. Licking his lips, he got up and refilled his cup. "You didn't tell me why you had to talk to Hammond," Jackson finally said as he sat back down.

Jack cleared his throat, latching onto the lifeline that had been thrown. "Pentagon's not happy with some of the changes lately."

"And that has what to do with you?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"Carter and me, we're the changes," Jack stated flatly, finally turning around to face the younger man.

"Meaning?"

Jack ran a hand over his face and let out a loud sigh. "Meaning, they want one of us there. Since Carter's retiring," he waved at himself, leaving the rest of the sentence for Daniel to fill in for himself.

"Why?" Daniel said, concern in his voice.

"Hell if I know. Nothing's official yet," Jack said, stopping himself from saying anything further. "Don't say anything to Sam. I'll tell her," he added, his voice dropping.

"She's having second thoughts," Daniel blurted out, wincing as Jack's head snapped up to look at him. "She said yesterday that she wasn't sure she was ready to give up the possibility of coming back."

"That's not going to happen," Jack growled back harshly, a hand running through his hair in agitation.

"You can't know that," Daniel began only to be cut off.

"To hell I can't," Jack snarled, his eyes hard, pupils black. "They're putting me in charge of that fucking hell hole and I'll be damned if I'll have her back there where she'll die."

Shock flashed through Daniel as he watched the vein in Jack's temple throb. He just wasn't sure if his reaction was over the promotion, his apparent hatred of the SGC, that he would deliberately use his position to keep Sam away from something she wanted to do, or the fact that he just equated her being there with death. "Jack," he breathed, not quite sure what more to say. Before he could come up with anything else, a knock on the door interrupted the tension hanging in the air.

Brusquely pushing past Daniel, Jack snatched his bag from the floor. Taking a few steps, Jack stopped and looked back at Daniel still frozen in place. "Thanks for letting me crash," he said softly, the anger draining from him as fast as it had come. "I'll call you in a few days," he said, before opening the door and greeting the airman waiting in the hallway to drive him to the base.

***SG1***SG1****

AN2: Oh Jack, you are not doing well at all, are you? Yikes.