Greetings. Thanks for your patience. Colonel Jack 'just help Sam, I'm fine' O'Neill has been fighting me and didn't think it was a big deal that he is having nightmares or being delusional that he can control what Sam does. Having to drag it out of him. sigh We got a start at least. I'd say enjoy but this one is rough too.

***SG1***SG1***

"Good morning Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said, sliding into the chair across from him. Getting a grunt in response, he looked closer at the man across from him. "You did not sleep well," he observed.

Shaking his head slowly, Daniel let out a sigh. "Jack stayed over," he said.

"I did not see O'Neill yesterday," Teal'c said, a flash of surprise and a little bit of hurt passing over his features that Jack would be on base and not say hello.

"I didn't know he was in town either until he showed up at my place, Evidently, Hammond wanted to talk to him," Daniel explained. "Said he didn't want to open up his house for one night."

Nodding slowly, Teal'c could understand that logic.

"It wasn't exactly a great time," Daniel sighed. A silent inquiry had him adding, "He's having nightmares." Looking up he caught Teal'c's gaze. "He was screaming for Sam."

"I see," Teal'c said somberly, a crease of worry forming on his forehead.

"He, uh," Daniel stuttered, not sure if he should continue or not. Setting down his coffee cup, he blew out a breath. "He wouldn't tell me what it was but from the looks of him, they're happening pretty often. He took off from my place about four thirty. Said he was going to find a early hop back."

Silence descended for a brief time as commissary personnel moved around the pair, shuffling to clear nearby tables. When they had finished, Daniel glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear before he leaned forward. "Hammond's evidently leaving," he said lowly. "They're making Jack come back."

Surprise and worry flickered over Teal'c. "In what capacity?"

"In charge." Daniel let out a breath with the words. "I told him that Sam was having second thoughts and he came unglued. Said he wouldn't allow her to come back here."

"That is most unlike him," Teal'c murmured, his mind racing at all the implications.

"I'm worried about him." A grimace passed over Daniel's face. "Just not sure what to do about it."

A hum from Teal'c said he was thinking the same.

***SG1***SG1***

Clenching his jaw, Jack tried to stop his stomach from rolling as he watched the scenery pass and realized he was getting closer to Bethesda. When he left Daniel's earlier, he had intended to just head back to Nellis, but when asking about an earlier flight there, he found a flight ready to head to Andrews. Now, sitting in the passenger seat of a Suburban being driven to the hospital, he began to wonder if it was a mistake.

"Little late now O'Neill," he muttered, a loud sigh escaping him.

"Excuse me, Sir?" the airman driving him asked, flashing the Colonel a curious look.

Waving him off, Jack shifted in his seat as the exit for Walter Reed National Military Medical Center came up. "You can drop me at the front," Jack ordered. "I'll need to be picked up in four hours to get back."

"Yes, Sir," the airman replied, pulling to a stop. Reaching into his pocket, he held out a card. "If you get done sooner, you can call the motor pool and they'll get ahold of me, Sir."

Snapping off a quick salute in reply, Jack got out and headed up the front walk. Signing in and making his way through the security check points, O'Neill headed toward the long term rehab ward. Stopping at the desk to inquire where Sam might be, he was surprised to find Rogers there. "Doc."

Looking up from the chart she was reviewing, Tiffany's eyes widened in surprise. "Colonel O'Neill," she said, rising to move in front of him. "Sam didn't mentioned you would be coming today."

A humorless smile crossed Jack's face. "She didn't know. Sorta last minute. She around?"

Assessing Jack and noting the lines of fatigue and stress on his face, Tiffany frowned. "Everything okay?" His quipped 'oh yeah' didn't do much to alleviate her concern. Nodding slowly, she said, "Sam's in group. Will be an hour or so before she's done. You're welcome to wait in my office," she added, her tone half statement, half unspoken question.

Jack's eyes wandered around the area at the offer. Going to her office invariably meant talking with her, telling her what was going on. As much as he didn't want to do that, a part of him knew it had to be done. Wincing slightly at the thought, he brought his gaze back to the psychologist. "Yeah, okay," he agreed softly.

Following her to her office, Jack dropped his hat into a chair before moving to the window to look out. "Nice view," he murmured, killing time.

"I enjoy it," Tiffany answered, easing into her chair, watching him. "I get the feeling that you didn't come in here to talk about that though."

"You know, that's what I've always liked about you Doc," Jack quipped, "No messin' around. Right to the point," he threw back at her. A raised eyebrow at his delaying tactic had him conceding with a shrug that he had been caught doing exactly that. Looking back out the window, silence hung for a few minutes before he spoke again. "I'm being transferred back to the SGC. Promoted to the big chair, red phone, the whole works," he added, his attempt at humor coming out dark, heavy.

The bitterness in Jack's tone brought a frown to Tiffany's face. Watching him, she noted the defeated slump in his shoulders. "You don't want to go back."

"They don't care what I want," Jack said, his voice thick, low. Straightening his back, a sigh escaped him. "It has to be this way."

"So Sam isn't ordered back." Her statement brought Jack's eyes to her. Watching as his eyes narrowed, assessing her, she slowly nodded. "Hammond told me when Sam and I were there last week," she confirmed.

"Carter knows?" Jack's question was sharp, brittle.

"No," Rogers answered. "Hammond told me in confidence so I would know just in case." His tone had intrigued her. "Why? Don't you think she has the right to know?"

Shaking his head, Jack leaned against the window. "Daniel said she's having doubts about retiring."

Surprise flashed across Tiffany's face. "She tell him that?" she asked, mentally going through conversations to determine if she had said anything similar to her.

"Evidently," he breathed before his voice hardened. "That can't happen. Especially now."

Studying him, she saw fatigue and a sense of despair etched into his features. Watching as a shudder passed through him, Rogers tipped her head toward the chair across from her. "Come tell me what's keeping you up at night."

Catching her eye for a moment, Jack contemplated the offer she had just made. Maybe it was time to quit running from himself. Moving slowly across the room, he slipped off his jacket and dropped it on the back of one chair before he almost collapsed into the other. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes for a moment before staring at the ceiling. When he spoke, his voice was low, pained, thick. "What happened. What could happen."

"To you or to Sam?" Tiffany said, her tone carefully modulated.

A snort met her words. "Is there a difference?"

"You tell me," Rogers countered. She let the silence linger for a few minutes before she spoke. "A couple weeks ago you were okay with Sam going back."

A wince passed across Jack's face. "I thought I was." A sigh escaped as he added, "It's the best place for Carter career wise. With me gone, she can take command of the team, prove her ability."

A slow nod answered him. "Best for Major Carter, but not for Sam?"

A finger traced the seam on the arm of the chair. "SG-1... the four of us... we've been together longer than anybody else in that place. Other teams, they had members that were killed, injured or requested to be transferred."

A flash of surprise crossed Tiffany's features before she tipped her head. "Didn't Doctor Jackson die?"

A small smile pulled on Jack's face as he conceded the point. "He came back so doesn't count."

"You requested to be transferred."

"I did," Jack sighed, his eyes traveling back to the floor. "Hellavu lot good it did."

"You certainly had your share of injuries," Tiffany replied. Narrowing her eyes in thought, she added, "So if Daniel's death didn't count, and they won't let any of you transfer out, you think that leaves, what? One of you dying permanently?" Seeing a twinge of his jaw, she amended her question into a statement. "One of them dying." Another flinch told her she was almost correct. "You ordering one of them to their death." Watching him struggle to swallow told her she had found it.

***SG1***SG1***

Pausing outside Hammond's door, Daniel shuffled nervously, not convinced what he was about to do was the right thing or not. Blowing out a nervous breath, he rapped on the door, waiting to be acknowledged. Hearing the General indicate he should enter, he opened the door. "General," he greeted the older man.

"Doctor Jackson," Hammond acknowledged him, waving for him to come closer. "What can I do for you?"

"Uh, Jack stayed with me last night," he replied in a rush of breath. "He, uh, told me what's going on, the Pentagon, him, you."

Pursing his lips, George nodded slowly. "And?"

"Sir," Daniel said, taking a step closer. "Jack's not doing so well. This," he paused, his eyes darting away for a moment, "He's been having nightmares, not eating. I'm not sure this is the right thing for him."

***SG1***SG1***

"You've ordered them into situations where they could have died before," Rogers asked, her voice calm.

A slight lift of his shoulder conceded the point. "I was there to help them if things went bad."

"You're not there now."

A wince passed over Jack's face at the statement. "Teal'c will look after Daniel. They can take care of themselves.

Tiffany tilted her head. "And Sam can't?"

"Carter's one of the best," Jack snapped back immediately.

"Then what's the problem?"

Looking away, he licked his lips nervously. "I can't risk going back to that place." A tilt of Roger's head told him she wasn't following him. "She begged me to kill her," he said, his voice low, haunted.

"You think she wanted to die," Tiffany reiterated softly. Looking away from the pain she was seeing, her instinct of what she needed to say battled with her professional training. Making up her mind, she let out a small sigh. "When I was held prisoner in Iran, I was where Sam was at." Jack's eyes darted towards her, his body still. "After the usual beatings, waterboarding, sleep depreciation, etcetera," she waved her hand as a slight nod of Jack's head indicated he knew what she was referring to, "they," she paused, clearing her throat. "They tied me down so they could take turns, whenever they wanted." Looking away, she fought the acid burning her throat. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at him. "They left me there for over two weeks."

"Jesus," Jack choked, anger and sorrow at what she had gone through tearing through his chest.

"When the extraction team came in, I was so weak I couldn't stand let alone walk or do anything else. I begged them to kill me, to make it all go away." Tiffany swallowed, looking down at her hands and forced them to relax. "I... At the that moment, I couldn't fathom that I was worth anything anymore. The emotional and physical pain was unbearable and I couldn't see that it would ever end. And if that was all that was left," an apologetic shrug finished the sentence. Clearing her throat again, she shifted in her chair. "It was the only way I could see escaping it."

Launching himself from the chair, he stood in front of the window. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough. "You're not exactly making a case for me letting her to go back out there." A snort of dry amusement caused Jack to glance back.

"That's not up to you," Tiffany challenged as gently as she could locking eyes with him. "It's always been Sam's choice and if you care anything for her, you'll let her have it, especially now."

"And if she ends up dead or it happens again?" Jack rumbled, his voice holding a hint of challenge to hide the fear.

Tiffany sighed, looking away for a moment before she looked back. "All I can tell you is that Major Samantha Carter did not get to where she is without a lot of crap from others telling her she couldn't do it. She said you never did that to her. If you start now, what do you think is going to happen to your relationship?"

A frustrated sigh escaped Jack as he ran a hand down his face and his shoulders slumped. "I killed her once before. If we hadn't found a way to bring her back," he stopped, unfocused eyes on the wall behind her. "I couldn't see going on after that." His confession was hoarse, pained.

"Then you understand what she was feeling, why she asked for you to stop the pain," Rogers breathed. Tipping her head, she had a feeling there was something else driving the Colonel's reaction. "Besides that, what else do you remember the most about Sam when she was there? What do you dream about?"

A grimace passed over Jack's face. "Her screaming for me to help her," he said, shaking his head, clearing his throat. "That I had to protect her, whatever it took."

"And you haven't let that go," she stated the obvious.

A snort escaped Jack as he looked down at his hand, rubbing faint scars of fingernail gouges in his palm. "A couple weeks ago when Teal'c was sparring with her," Jack shook his head. "It was all I could do to not jump in there and rip his head off."

"You've never allowed yourself to think of her as being vulnerable until then, did you?" When his eyes darted up to her, she clarified, "On the planet."

An apologetic shrug answered her. "Not in a long time. She was my second. She had to be an officer before anything else... confident, capable, smart, loyal, willing to do whatever it took to achieve the mission objective." A smile pulled on his lips. "A hell of a shot."

A smile answered him before she spoke. "None of that has changed," Rogers stated, watching as the smile fell from Jack's face as she said that. "But for you it has."

Jack shifted. "Part of me knows," he said, the words drug out, spaced, "she's still all of that." A sigh escaped him. "But..." He stopped, shaking his head, telling her he didn't have the words.

"But now she's a woman first, officer second?" she offered.

"Maybe," Jack grunted, coming back to the chair. Leaning on the back of it, he looked down at his cover. "I can't help wondering what happens the next time she's on some backwater planet with some egomaniac who decides she's going to be his next bride. Does she fight him like she used to or is she...," he broke off shoving himself upright blowing out a breath. "Seeing her like that," Jack shook his head beginning to pace.

"Like what?" Rogers asked, watching him as he moved around the room.

"Terrified, helpless, broken," he threw out harshly. "Pick one."

Rogers nodded her head slowly, thinking it was a fair assessment. "You're not sure she can come back from it." A faltering in his step told her she had guessed correctly. "Why not? Because she's a woman?" A 'come on, you know better than that' look from him altered her approach. "You did it. I did it. Why can't Sam?"

"How many times?" Jack rumbled, "How many times can somebody be expected to do that?" Stopping at the window his shoulders slumped as he stared sightlessly out of it.

The strained, haunted words sent a chill down Tiffany's back as a lump jumped into her throat. Swallowing, she shifted slightly before she spoke. "We're not talking about Sam anymore are we?"

***SG1***SG1***

AN2: Thanks for your continued patience. I will finish this story. Still not able to write as much as hoped right now.