Deliberate Speed

Again, thanks to all of you still hanging in there and sending reviews. Your comments, pro and con, make the process worthwhile. Short but the next chapter follows. So, if you haven't penned your view, there's still time!

4: Touchdown

Oh, crap. That was so not the general's tirade he'd planned.

He was stewed, alright. Ready to blister the leather off her boots. Until she turned those vulnerable eyes to him. And thanked him. And sent his justifiable roar back down to, "Anytime, Carter."

"Sheesh, Carter, what am I going to do with you?" Jack groaned, then noticed how quiet she was. Yeah, got her quaking in her boots, general.

In just those few moments, she was asleep. He held his sense of relief close. Her eyes had dark smudges beneath them, her hair was in total rebellion, and she was paler than he'd ever seen her. She looked tired, alive, beautiful. Too bad she'd be waking up within the hour instead of a full crash.

Ok, stash the tirade, hold the blistering. He'd feel like he'd kicked a puppy if he gave her the rip-up she'd earned tonight, he reasoned. Jack just hoped he could find out what she needed before his daredevil scientist's luck ran out.

Easing off the highway, his eyes glanced over her again. That leather outfit was friendly to her lean form, conforming to every curve endlessly, until disappearing into her calf boots. Her voice startled him out of his perusal.

"NEVER love you back!" Sam hissed. Anger made her body rigid, straining against the seat belt. She moaned and bolted upright, her eyes wide open and glazed with the visions in her head. "Kill me if you want!" Her voice dropped to a murmur. Then she was quiet again.

He wondered what the other half of that conversation was; she sounded like classic ticked-off Carter. And who was she telling this to? The only possible answers were creepy.

Jack parked the vehicle in his driveway and cut the engine. Sam was blinking her eyes, coming awake. Suddenly, her arm flung toward him. Jack caught it, easing his hand over her fist. He saw her eyes narrow even as a tear escaped.

"Sam. It's all right. Wake up," Jack said softly. She cringed. "Carter," Jack repeated, squeezing her hand lightly. She moved her head and he knew she saw him now. Jack swallowed. Damn Fifth. He hoped there was a special hell for Replicators, one that duplicated every terror they'd put in Carter's eyes. "We're here. Stay. I'll help you out."

Jack returned after going to unlock his front door. Sam was looking at him with such a strange expression. Jack watched her as he unhooked her seat belt. She watched him, then looked away as he slipped his arms under her legs and shoulders and lifted her out. Her arm came up reluctantly around his neck, and she let her head touch his shoulder.

"You do know that snuggling with your CO won't get you out of this mess, right?" Jack murmured. A sound like a giggle came from her. "Giggling, Carter? That's a felony." He smiled when her other arm came up around his neck and she was definitely giggling, her hair tickled his cheek. A little more watery than the ones he sometimes coaxed from her, but it sounded so great to hear.

Inside, he gently laid her on the sofa, making sure the pillows were comfortably arranged for her. Sam settled into the cushions, pliant and too quiet. Jack sat at her feet and pulled off her boots. She merely watched him. After that, he settled the oversized soft throw over her. Sam surprised him by pushing herself up with considerable effort. She lifted her arms slightly, and he saw what she wanted. Her hands fumbled at the zipper of her jacket until he gently covered her hands with his. The fitted jacket didn't come off easily, requiring him to get closer to her. He tossed it onto the sofa back and froze.

---

Sam was unaware, at first, that her hands reached for him. She knew that his warmth drew her like any living thing is drawn to warmth. Oh, and that she couldn't stop herself. She leaned forward, sliding her arms around his waist, drawing him to her. He said her name in a question. Her body shuddered, recalling the fear of being alone, adrift in that non-space again. When her cheek at last came onto his chest, where his heart — his heart! — beat reassuringly human, Sam closed her eyes. Jack still had not moved, but she didn't care right this moment. Contact.

"Cold. Fifth was so cold." Sam breathed, inhaling him. His smell, his warmth, his presence: Real.

---

"It's ok." Jack finally breathed again, closing his arms around her. "You're back," he whispered. Her arms tightened, and he understood her need. The need to touch and be touched after facing the worst alone, and surviving. That instinct to desperately seek human heat, to absorb it, merge with it, and reconnect to your humanness. Jack held her gently, reveling in this opportunity to aid his fellow soldier, his friend. He knew she would have done the same for him. He regretted he had not allowed her or any of the others to do so. It would have helped them, too.

"I fought him, sir," Sam whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt. "I kept fighting, and fighting, and..."

"I know you did, Carter."

"I just couldn't stop him!" Sam's hands bunched his shirt in her fists. She twisted back to look up at him, but not letting him go. Her anger could sear. "He — he just dragged me back and forth like I w-was nothing, rerunning every horrible thing that ever happened in my life and- making me see things I never did - Even after I begged him to please stop, please stop…" She eased herself back to him.

Jack rubbed her back and shoulders calmly but the words she uttered were suddenly illuminating. She had begged. She'd broken. That was what he had seen on her face earlier. Damn it, he should have known. He'd let himself believe she had handled it.

Of course she hadn't; no one handled surviving torture alone. And he knew that well. She'd fooled herself and he'd let her fool him.

"It happens, Carter, to all of us," he whispered, his heart hammering. "I did it, too." He swallowed. "With Ba'al. Begged for my life. It was all I could do not to give him what he wanted." He couldn't breath; she became still, quiet for eternal seconds.

Jack felt her shivers lessen, her fists opened against him. He raised one hand to stroke her hair back. She raised her chin to look in his eyes. Glistening, but no tears, he thought with relief.

"I didn't escape. It wasn't the same. I just…" Sam protested after silently absorbing his statement.

"You survived. You came back to m-us. And I'm damned proud of you," Jack whispered. He saw the hope in her expression; it was still apprehensive, but she was hearing him. Better. She trusted him, accepted his confession. His spirits lifted: she didn't think any less of him. Of course she wouldn't. None of them would. He held her quietly a minute longer. "You ok?"

"Better, I think, sir," Sam's muffled voice reached him. "It never goes away, really," she said, her voice small and miserable. "That feeling of being controlled. Of failure."

Jack clamped his eyes shut. Moments of truth just sucked.

"No," he murmured, and held her closer when she stiffened. Jack let his hand rub soothing circles over her back. "But hey, you dealt with the snake, and that alien that did the electric boogie in your brain – What?" he replied, smiling as she surprised herself with a chuckle, or rather half of one. "You'll make it, Sam."

"Glad you think so, sir," she replied wistfully. She was still, her cheek pressed to his chest as if listening to his heart beat.

"So, you gonna stick around, now? No high-speed chases or crocheting while driving?" Jack whispered when she had quieted. He felt her relax into him, her breathing slower.

----

"No more running, sir, or threading needles," Sam replied softly. Looking up at him, she let her understanding flow out to him; touched at his admission. That couldn't have been easy for him. "Thank you, thanks for telling me about…that, Jack," Sam said. On impulse, she placed her lips on the side of his. He hesitated just before turning his lips to touch hers. Briefly clinging and parting. Sam smiled. Then she sobered. Oh. She lowered her eyes and reluctantly eased back to recline. But just for one moment, she rested her hand over his pounding heart. Its tempo matched hers.

----

"You're welcome, Sam," Jack replied, emphasizing her name and wagging his eyebrows playfully. He was relieved that she looked ready to sleep now. He pulled the throw over her, pausing to study her again. He couldn't imagine life without this impossible, impossibly brainy, loyal and courageous... friend in it. Jack noted how easily he was gravitating to her again, and that she was easing the throw up to her chin. Right. "Take a catnap. Daniel and Teal'c should call soon. Think about what I asked. And oh, yeah, I'll want to shake your dust off the couch later." And as she headed for the back of the house, the sound he heard was definitely a laugh.

When Daniel called later, Jack gave them the details about Sam's night out and they agreed to meet back at the SGC. He hung up with a smile when Daniel promised to come post haste if Sam needed them. SG-1 all for one, and one for all, he mused with a grin. Always. Oh, how he hoped it was always.

Surprisingly, Sam slept without incident for almost an hour. In the kitchen, Jack looked up, then headed to the living room. He was kneeling by the sofa where Sam lay, taking her hand when her eyes popped open.

TBC

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