Note-This Chapter Contains Adult Language.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Four days later, there was another knock on Jack's door.

He ignored it.

It wouldn't go away.

Jack rolled over and pulled a pillow down tight over his head, hoping to block the offending noise out. It didn't work. The knock kept repeating itself.

With a sigh, Jack sat up from where he'd been napping on his couch. As he prepared to just go answer the door so he could dismiss whoever it was, he noticed the insult had stopped.

No more knocking.

Jack flopped back down onto the couch, before realizing why his house was silent.

Daniel Jackson stood near the entrance to Jack's living room with a concerned look on his face. When no one answered his knocks on the door, Daniel had let himself in, and he was beginning to think that had been a very good decision.

Jack's house was a wreck, with empty beer bottles laying all around and pizza boxes stacked on top one another everywhere. Daniel wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of stale beer and unrefrigerated food that assailed him, and stepped into the living room.

"Jack?"

O'Neill groaned, but didn't move.

"Jack? You awake?"

"No, Daniel, I'm sleeping. Go away."

"Not falling for that one, Jack." Daniel smiled at his friend's attempt at humor.

"Whatever, have a seat then. Have a beer. What do I care?"

"Um, yeah. No, thanks, Jack. You know I don't really like beer. Besides, looks like you've had enough for both of us."

"Whatever."

"Jack, you missed a meeting. People are worried."

"Meeting?"

"Yeah…you…me…General Landry…some other important people at the SGC…remember that?"

"No."

"Why am I not surprised?" Daniel sighed heavily before continuing. "What's going on here, Jack? Does this have something to do with Sam?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam. You know…Samantha Carter…your former 2IC…friend of ours?"

Jack suddenly sat bolt upright and laughed out loud at Daniel's description. He laughed so hard that Daniel thought Jack had lost his mind.

"Jack? You ok? Maybe we should get you to the infirmary..."

"I don't need to go to the infirmary, Daniel."

"Then what's going on? You look like shit and smell even worse, and your leave is up tomorrow. This meeting was easy enough to postpone, since you weren't even officially due back yet, but…"

Daniel trailed off as he took in more of his friend's appearance. Jack looked haggard, old, and tired. So very tired. He had a few day's growth of beard on his face, and looked like he hadn't showered in days. His clothes were rumpled as if he'd been sleeping in them, and Jack was very, very drunk. As Jack reached for yet another bottle of Guinness in front of him, Daniel deftly swiped it away.

"I think you've had enough, Jack." Daniel's voice was determined.

"I'll decide when I've had enough, thank you, Daniel." Jack stood and grabbed for the bottle in Daniel's hand. His aim was off, and he missed by a least a foot. Daniel easily avoided a second attempt, and then looked patiently at his friend.

"You decide yet?"

Jack sighed in resignation and sat back down. "Fine. It's not worth arguing with you over it."

"Thank you. So, what's going on, Jack?" Daniel walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water. He pressed it into Jack's hands before sitting down opposite him in one of the big living room chairs.

For a long moment, neither man spoke. It was obvious that Jack wasn't going to break the silence first, so Daniel pressed the issue.

"So, is this about Sam's trip?"

Jack looked up at Daniel then, confusion in his eyes.

"Trip?"

"Yeah, you know…Sam went to visit some friends back east for a while."

"That what she told you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Jack laughed. "Carter isn't coming back, Daniel. You can bet on that."

Daniel looked shocked. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Just trust me, Daniel. She's not coming back. She gave me that 'I just need some space' bullshit, but…SHIT!" Jack exploded off the couch, violently flinging the water bottle through the air until it crashed into the wall above Daniel's head, bringing down a framed picture.

Jack didn't notice the damage his outburst had caused.

Jack didn't notice much of anything. He merely stood in the center of the room with his eyes clenched shut and trembled with a barely restrained rage. Daniel could nearly see the anger radiating off of Jack like heat from a street on a scorching summer day. Jack's hands were balled tightly into fists, and he kept pumping his arms up and down shakily while ragged breaths escaped his chest. Every muscle in Jack's body was stretched tight, and blood vessels threatened to burst out of the skin of Jack's neck and face.

Daniel had never seen Jack so angry, and it scared him a little. He sat very still in his chair and tried not to move. After a solid thirty seconds of seeing this behavior from Jack, Daniel finally tried to speak. He succeeded, but barely. His single word was a whisper.

"Jack?"

Jack's eyes popped open and he regarded Daniel without recognition for a microsecond.

Then, with a suddenness that was eerie to behold, Jack snapped. He began a diatribe of profanity that startled even Daniel a little.

"God dammit, Daniel! Why? Dammit! Why? SHIT! Why did I have to do it? Why? FUCK!"

As the expletives left Jack, so did his energy. It left him in the form of release. Jack jumped up and down in place, thudding his feet angrily on the floor as he cursed. His arms continued to pump and the entire routine would have been comical in a three year old child, but it was so very out of character for the grown man in front of him that Daniel was becoming increasingly concerned about his friend's health.

Jack calmed after a few minutes, and as yet another strong expletive left his mouth, he sunk to the floor. He ended up in a crouching fetal position with his head between his hands. He continued to murmur under his breath, and as Daniel approached warily to try to comfort his friend, the archeologist heard a quiet whisper that explained a great deal.

"Fuck. Why did I have to sleep with her? Fuck!"

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise, and he wisely controlled his urge to reach out and touch his friend. The words he'd just heard told him that Jack was likely an exposed nerve, and also made Sam's little 'trip' seem much less innocent. As Daniel levered himself onto the floor to sit cross-legged beside his self-hugging friend, he asked for confirmation of what he already knew. His voice was quiet, and he didn't really expect a response, but Daniel knew he had to try to get Jack to deal with this, or his friend would likely self-destruct.

"Sam?"

Jack shocked Daniel by answering, in a nearly normal voice. "Yes, Daniel, who else?"

"Just making sure we're on the same page."

"We are. For once."

"You ok?"

Jack snorted a rough laugh. "Do I look like I'm ok?"

Jack's response told Daniel that Jack was beyond inebriated. A sober O'Neill would never have admitted that he wasn't 'fine'. Daniel was somewhat glad that alcohol had loosened Jack's tongue. It would make his job a whole lot easier.

"When did it happen?"

"A week ago yesterday."

'Damn,' thought Daniel. 'He's keeping track. This is even worse than I thought.'

"You talk to Sam since she left?"

"Nope."

"Jesus, Jack."

Jack hadn't moved from his pathetic crouch on the floor yet, but as Daniel spoke he pushed himself upwards and one arm snaked out to grab the front of Daniel's shirt. Jack pulled the younger man towards him until their faces were mere centimeters apart.

"Don't you dare judge me, Daniel."

Daniel shoved Jack backwards and away from him to escape Jack's putrid breath. "I'm not…just…what the hell are you doing?"

"She said she wanted some time. I'm just giving it to her."

"You guys talk at all before she left?"

Jack shrugged. "A little."

"How'd you leave it?"

Another shrug. "Up to her."

"And she left."

"Yep."

Daniel looked puzzled at Jack's nonplussed response. "That's it, then?"

"Pretty much."

Daniel muttered under his breath. "Jesus, Jack."

"What? Why do you keep saying that?"

"You're just going to let her go, aren't you?"

"What other choice do I have?"

"Go after her, Jack."

"What?"

"You heard me. Suck it up and go after her."

"No way."

"Why not?"

"She has to figure out for herself what she wants. I can't do it for her." As Jack spoke, he abruptly stood up and began to pace the living room. Daniel soon followed Jack's lead and stood as well, trying to get his friend's attention.

"Jack."

The pacing didn't stop. "What?"

"Jack. Look at me."

The pacing stopped, but Jack didn't look at Daniel. Instead, he flopped himself back onto the couch wearily. "Dammit, Daniel, what is it that you want here?"

Daniel knelt in front of Jack and answered simply. "Look at me."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed deeply. When he opened his eyes, Jack leaned back on the couch, crossed his arms, and gave Daniel a mock smile. "Alright, fine. What is it that you want to say, Dannyboy?"

Jack's voice was laced with acid, and his sarcasm angered Daniel. Daniel's voice took on an edge as he spoke his next words, and he was brutally honest.

"You and I both know that's a cop out. You just don't want to admit that you need her."

"Fuck you, Daniel."

Jack's words pushed Daniel over the edge of anger into rage. "No, fuck you, Jack! You're the one who ran out on us! TWICE! You deserve this! How dare you act all melodramatic when somebody gives you a taste of your own medicine!"

Jack's body responded before his mind had time to think. He launched himself off the couch and knocked the crouching Daniel backward to the floor. Daniel instinctively responded to the attack, bringing his knees up and kicking Jack off of him. Jack rolled with Daniel's blow, and fought back. Both men lost themselves in the violence of the moment, and neither pulled any punches as they brawled their way across the floor.