CHAPTER TWELVE
The next few weeks were good ones for Carter. She got a little bit stronger every day. She got a little more mobile every day. She learned to move herself around more on her own. She pushed herself harder than she ever had before, and soon she was able to function on her own. She used her arms to maneuver her body where it needed to go, and figured out how to do the simple things, like use the restroom, get out of bed and into a wheelchair, dress, and bathe herself. She was not normal by a long stretch, and was still wheelchair bound most of the time, but she could walk a little bit with a walker. She could stand for about ten minutes, and although her steps were short and faltering, she could get across a small room. When her friends visited her now, they were amazed at her new attitude, and impressed with her skills. Although she still had plenty of dark times, she was determined to try as hard as she could to get her life back. No matter what, she would get through this. She learned to push past the pain, to relish it, to use it to prove to herself she was alive, and that she was fighting. It became her ally, and a good one.
The day came when it was time to go home. Sam wanted that more than anything, but she was scared. Scared she wouldn't be able to handle it. Scared that without the support of the team of therapists, doctors, nurses, and orderlies that had helped her every day since her accident, she wouldn't be able to do the daily chores of life. An occupational therapist who specialized in home care was appointed to help her with those things, but she was still nervous. This was a big step. Sam had not fully taken care of herself since the accident, over five months ago.
A light knock at the door told her that Lorna had come to see her off.
"Hey, Lorna. Come on in."
Lorna returned the small smile Sam gave her. "Well, today's the big day. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."
Lorna gave Sam a knowing look. "Nervous?"
Sam replied with a slight blush. "That obvious?"
"Actually, no. Just a normal thing to be feeling right about now. This is a huge step, Sam, and it's scary. But you're ready for it. You've come a long way and done really well. Better than we thought in many ways."
At Sam's look of surprise, Lorna explained. "Quite frankly, we expected you'd be having at least one more leg surgery. That right femoral fracture sure tried to not heal on us. That's common in these types of cases. What we call non-union fractures. But all your bones mended well. They're strong. Your muscles are still weak, but gaining ground everyday. The nerve damage, well, like we've said all along, there's just no way to tell. You have to give it time, but from what I see, I'm optimistic you will recover to nearly 100. There's a lot left to work on, though, and it's not an easy adjustment to go home and lose the support structure you have here in the rehab facility. You're going to have to do everything on your own now, and calling for pizza every night gets old real quick."
Sam laughed outright at that. With her friends, she doubted food would be an issue. Even if it was take-out, she'd get some variety. She had overheard Daniel and Jack talking outside her door just the other day about her release and how they would divide up sitting with her. It was like just after the accident all over again. She was grateful for the help. Sam had no delusions that life would be easy once she got home. The home therapist would do her nursing care and some therapy, but she would need to be driven to the rehab center three times a week for more extensive work, and there was no doubt she would need help with simple chores, but she wasn't worried about getting it. She explained that to Lorna with an understatement extraordinaire.
"I think I can find some folks to help me out."
Lorna smiled back. "Yes, you have a lot of friends, and they seem very dedicated to you. You're lucky to have them. I know they don't come as often as they did right after the accident to see you, but you get a lot more visitors than most folks here do. They were here at least every other day all the way until now. That's a blessing. I know they'll be there for you now."
Sam thought to herself that Lorna had never spoken truer words, and counted herself blessed to have SG-1 and the SGC behind her at this time. Before responding to Lorna's comments, Sam glanced toward the door when a movement caught her eye, and was shocked to see General O'Neill standing ramrod straight in the doorway, in full uniform.
"Sir!"
A slight smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, and a twinkle appeared in his eye as he very calmly and coolly responded. He was so proud of this woman he couldn't even think straight, let alone trust himself to speak much, but he didn't let it show. Sam's bravery in dealing with this accident humbled him.
"Carter."
"What are you doing here, sir? I thought Daniel was picking me up?"
"Well, there was a slight change of plans."
"You guys better not be throwing me a surprise party or anything like that."
"Nope. In fact, that's part of why I'm here. The guys wanted to pick you up in a decorated truck with balloons and streamers and all that, but I thought you might want something a little more, well, discreet." He eyed the wheelchair and walker next to Sam's bed as he said that, and Sam couldn't help but notice his discomfort.
"I appreciate that, sir. I'm not much in the mood for a lot of people and stuff right now. Besides, I have a long way to go before we can celebrate, right, Lorna?"
The small physical therapist looked up then. She'd tried to make herself invisible during this little exchange. It wasn't every day that she interacted with a high-ranking Air Force general, and this O'Neill character made her a little nervous. Not to mention, she had picked up on the subtext between these two long ago, and thought it best if she stayed out of their affairs as much as possible. But on this, she did have an opinion. A big one. She couldn't stay silent.
"Well, Sam, I have to disagree. There's always something to celebrate, and in this job, well, I'll take a good day as reason to have a party. You have a lot to be proud of, and you should celebrate it. That said, though, I have to agree that waiting a few days might be best. You have a lot going on right now…oh, and as for having a long way to go, well, one day at a time, Sam, one day at a time. That's all we can do, remember?"
Carter nodded her head in agreement and reminded herself (for what seemed the millionth time) to just take it one small step at a time. That's how she would get through this. Baby steps…
After the necessary forms had been filled out and signed, Jerrod and Tim, along with Lorna, several nurses, and other people from the rehab center, helped Sam get all her things into Jack's truck and lined up outside to see her off. Sam waved bye to each of them and accepted Jerrod's help in getting into the large vehicle.
Jarrod shot the older man in the driver's seat a quick glance before handing Carter a small note and softly saying his own goodbye. "Take care of yourself, now, Colonel. I'll see you later. Give a ring if you need anything." Then he looked Jack right in the eye and nodded, once, before speaking a one word greeting. "General." With that, the orderly shut the door, and Jack slowly drove out of the parking lot.
Jack couldn't help but smile a little at the younger man's attitude. Once a military man, always a military man, he supposed. He appreciated the respect, even if he didn't really like the personal way Jarrod talked to Carter. Jack would have given almost anything to be able to relax like that with Sam. But it just wasn't to be. Things with them had always been, and most likely would always be, complicated.
The 30 minute drive to Sam's house was mostly quiet. Both Sam and Jack were lost in their own thoughts as they drove away from the only home Sam had known for four long months. After a while, though, Jack broke the silence.
"So, picked up a fan club, eh?"
Sam looked over at him in surprise. "What was that, sir?"
"Our young orderly. He seemed especially interested in your case, Colonel." Jack intentionally used Carter's rank to tease her a little, and the word was injected with sarcasm.
"He's not that young, sir, and he's harmless. Just a really nice guy."
"Oh, what's that he gave you, then?"
Sam had completely forgotten about the note in her hand. She hadn't even looked at it. Truth be told, she would rather have done so privately, but now it was too late. She didn't want to give Jack any more ammo to use for teasing. It was probably just a get well card.
"Well, why don't we just find out?"
"Go for it, Carter."
Sam opened the folded piece of paper and read it quickly. The words inscribed on it were simple, short, and sweet. In the chicken scratch writing Sam had learned to read while in the PT room, Jarrod had written a short message.
Colonel-
I meant it. Call me anytime. For rehab help. Or not.
Jarrod
555-1671
Sam blushed as she read the lines, but quickly tried to cover it. Jarrod must have planned this before he helped her to the truck. Sam was flattered. It was nice to know that Jarrod cared, and that he put some thought into his little note. Carter wasn't even vaguely interested in ever calling him, but still, it was nice to have another friend. She hoped Jarrod wasn't looking for more than that, as she knew she wouldn't be going down that path for a while. Her injuries and what had happened with Pete and then even with Jack recently made anything more than friendship seem like a bad idea. Relationships just didn't seem to suit Sam Carter well at all. Not that she and Jack had ever had a relationship in the conventional sense of the word, but their short walk down that lane had left them both uncomfortable and distant, and Sam in no way wanted to try and change things again. Things between the two of them had gotten so comfortable and easy since her accident, and that was worth more than anything else in the world. There were still moments of tension and barely controlled emotion boiling just under the surface of their interactions, but Sam wasn't prepared to deal with that, or any other relationship issues, right now. She had more important things to do. Like learn to walk right again.
Sam had forgotten it was Jack who asked about the note until he interrupted her thoughts with a question. "So? What's it say?" Jack grinned at Sam mischievously as he asked, and she knew he knew damn well what kind of note it was. He just wanted to watch her squirm a little.
Sam tried not to give him the satisfaction. "Nothing important. Just my favorite orderly's phone number in case I need help." She shrugged as she answered and acted like young, attractive men giving her their numbers was an every day occurrence.
Her flippancy caught Jack off guard a bit, and he felt the tiniest surge of jealousy towards Jarrod. He immediately talked himself out of the emotion, telling himself that he had no right to feel that way, and that it was great that Carter had one more person to call on in a time of need. Not that he had any intention of letting her need anything. He'd already arranged for a housekeeper, rotating visits from friends with dinners, and everything else he could think of that Sam might need. He just wanted her to not have to worry about anything. She would have to ok everything, of course, but it was all ready to go if she wanted it. Jack knew Sam well enough to know she would be furious if he assumed she would want help. The situation was such that help was going to be needed, but arranging it without involving Sam would be a big mistake. So, Jack had laid all the phone numbers and papers out for Sam to review. That was the best he could do. He wanted nothing more than to make sure Carter was well taken care of. She wouldn't need to call her young friend. While Jack thought about all this in just a second, his reply was brief and sarcastic, as always, to cover his real feelings on the matter.
"Oh? You think he'd mind if I gave him a call? My knee's been killing me."
Sam was spared from having to answer the General by the sight of her house as they pulled onto her street. While the hoopla at the rehab center had wisely been foregone, obviously the party committee had not ruled out her house for a festive look, if nothing else. There was a large sign in the yard saying 'WELCOME HOME SAM' and streamers and balloons covered everything in sight. As Jack pulled into the drive, Sam noticed more and more things that were both touching and truly hard on the eyes. Bright colors glared at her from everywhere, nearly masking the fact that her lawn and flower beds were immaculately kept up. Sam made a mental note to take all the paper down soon and to thank whoever had done her yard work for her.
Jack unloaded all of Sam's stuff quickly, and then he propped open the door to the house before coming back to the truck for Sam. He asked permission with his eyes to carry her inside, and she nodded her affirmative. It was just easier than using the chair or walker for the short trip, since the big truck and the small steps up to the door made perfect obstacles to progress.
After receiving her permission, Jack sighed one small nervous sigh before working his arms up underneath Carter's shoulders and knees and gently lifting her out of the truck. As he turned and kicked the vehicle's door shut, Jack was struck by how light Carter seemed, but he wisely didn't comment.
As Jack carried her into the house, Sam noticed something as they crossed the threshold, and asked Jack to stop for a second. The front door was wrapped in gift paper, and little notes were written in black magic marker all over it. It looked like everyone at the SGC had signed it. Tears threatened to fall from Sam's eyes at this gesture. After looking over the wonderful 'card' for a minute, Jack continued on into the house and laid Sam gingerly on the couch, within reach of everything she would need for the next couple of hours.
His task complete, Jack didn't know what to do. So, he went with the obvious and easiest action for him. Sarcasm and the basics. "Sorry, Carter, you're just not a featherweight. I had to keep going. We can read the door later. Do you need anything right now? I put your chair and walker where you can reach them, and there's snacks and sodas right there and the remote with fresh batteries, and…" His voice trailed off as he ran out of things to say. He was nervous. He didn't do this well. Fortunately, Carter bailed him out, as always, at least to his point of view.
"I think I'm ok, sir. Thanks. I really appreciate the quiet homecoming. Tell the guys thanks and that we'll do something later, ok? I'm tired right now. I think I'd like to take a little nap."
Jack arranged the pillows and a blanket on the couch in an effort to make Carter more comfortable, and then allowed himself the rare luxury of brushing a little piece of hair out of her eyes and off her forehead. His touch lingered a little longer than it should have, with his thumb tracing her cheek just a little, and she suddenly looked up into his eyes. His own eyes held there for only a second, with shocked surprise and something else, something unidentified but enticing, dancing just behind them, and then he looked away. He straightened up uncomfortably, and began to speak, just a little too quickly.
"Well, ok, then. Look, Daniel will be by in about an hour. I have to catch a late flight tonight back to Washington to do a few things, so I've got to run, but I'll be back in a few days. You going to be ok until Daniel gets here?"
Sam looked quickly away from him and answered, also a bit too quickly. "Yes, sir. I'll be fine, sir. See you when you get back, sir."
"Ok, then. I'll call you later. Bye, Carter."
"Good bye, sir."
With that, Jack fled the house as fast as propriety would allow. He wanted out of there ASAP. He'd thought he was ok with just being friends with Carter again, and didn't want to jeopardize that for anything, but the surge of emotion that ran through him when he tucked her in, so to speak, surprised the hell out of him and scared him, too. He was so happy just to have her and Daniel and T back in his life after his isolation in Washington that he couldn't fathom wanting anything more. He had his team back, if not officially or at work, at least in his personal life. He had his friends again. No, they were more than friends. They were his family. It stood to reason that some of the old confusion and tension and passionate emotions revolving around Carter would resurface along with the rekindling of Jack's friendship with his team, but he couldn't act on those feelings. He and Carter had explored that area and found it unappealing. Granted, they'd done so only briefly, but it was enough for Jack. They had both been uncomfortable and they'd drifted apart afterwards. Jack didn't want to risk losing his friend again just to satisfy his own occasional selfish wish to be more than friends with Samantha Carter. Besides, she needed him now as a friend only. She didn't need anything else in her life to make things more complicated than they already were. Jack O'Neill vowed that would keep his distance. Sam needed him, so he wasn't going anywhere, but he would stay at arm's length. As he walked down the drive to his truck, he was already fortifying the walls he'd built around himself years ago. He couldn't let anyone worm their way through them this time. There was too much at stake. He couldn't lose any part of his family again.