*Baba - Ukrainian for Grandma
Over the next few days things continued to improve for O'Neill. He spent much of his time sleeping, but during the short time he was awake he was able to speak coherently to his friends. Still, things weren't 100 percent yet - according to Thor there were still areas that had as yet to heal. Whether or not they would was anyone's guess.
The Asgard insisted that Jack stay in the pod as it was helping, although only in small ways, with his recovery. After he'd complained loudly about how uncomfortable it was, Sam had arranged to bring pillows and blankets. She'd also asked Daniel to bring some clean sweats for him to wear.
The one good thing about his complaining was that it meant he was on the road to recovery – even though it was a slow journey. It was when he was quiet that they grew concerned, knowing that he was feeling depressed or worried. Sam tried to speak to him about what was bothering him, but he would always claim he was fine. She was ready to strangle him.
"Jack?" He had just woken up from a long nap and she figured now was a good time to see if she could get anything out of him. He was still sleepy and he hadn't had time to put his defenses up.
'Hmmm." He murmured, groggy from his sleep.
"Something's bothering you. Won't you tell me what it is?" He glanced quickly at her and she could immediately see the mental shutters slamming shut. All of them had seen that he was starting to shut them out again. That, for some reason, he was turning away from all of them – including her. She was damned if she was going to let that happen.
"I'm fine Sam. Just need to get out of this dam pod and go home, then everything'll be okay."
"No Jack, please don't lie to me. There is something wrong, something's bothering you. You know I won't say anything to anyone, I just want to help."
Before she'd even finished he was shaking his head, denying there was anything. He turned his eyes away from her and stared at the ceiling.
"Don't you trust me?" she had to ask. Maybe that's what this was all about. Even though he had told her he loved her there was an awful lot of baggage they hadn't dealt with yet.
"Of course I trust you." He answered shortly. She could tell he was starting to get angry.
"I can understand if you don't, after what we did to you."
"It wasn't your fault, I get that. Now can we please not talk about this?" He rolled to his side, away from her. It was still a struggle for him to move, something Thor said was as a result of the brain injury. They all hoped it would soon start to improve.
"I think we have to. Look, you went through months thinking that the people you were closest to in the whole world had betrayed you. Then you're kidnapped and 'experimented' on. I think you have a lot to deal with, but you don't need to do it by yourself; we're here for you."
"Are you?" he asked softly. She felt her breath hitch. She was right, he was still angry over what had happened.
"Of course", she answered, equally as softly. "Jack, I feel terrible and so do Daniel and Teal'c over what did. Even though technically it wasn't our fault we'll always feel guilty. We hurt you terribly, even if unintentionally, and that's something I regret to the bottom of my heart. But you have to know that I would never, ever do anything like that again. I'd die for you Jack, you know that. We have something wonderful, don't let that go, not now, not when we're so close."
He was silent, not moving. She felt like she was on the edge of a precipice – that the slightest wrong move could send her over and that would be the end of any chance of a life with this man. She didn't know what more she could say or do so she just waited.
He knew he was being a bastard. He admitted, deep in his heart, that she was right, she'd never betray him, at least not intentionally. And yet a part of him remained bitter and angry. He thought back to the last six months of hell knowing that he had been close, many times, to giving up. Even though it was unfair, there was still a part of him that was still terribly hurt that he'd been left alone, lost and afraid.
But that was only part of his problem. Even though he was better, and was no longer in danger of dying, he knew that he was not completely healed. The worse part of all is he was sure he never would be.
He had changed and he didn't know if he could deal with those changes. Part of it was the damage done by Angrboda – which he was almost positive was permanent. Oh, he didn't think it had impaired his intellect – but he felt weak down the entire left side of his body. He figured he had experienced something like a stroke, although no one was saying anything to him.
If that had been all maybe he could have dealt with it. No, what was really bothering him was that he felt like his mind was changing. Whatever that crazy Asgard had done had altered something essential in him. He was terrified as to what he would eventually become.
All of these thoughts and feelings were going round and round in his mind until he thought he was going mad. He didn't know what to say to anyone because he couldn't even figure out what he was feeling. He felt guilty for his remaining anger but it didn't make it go away. Throw in a good dose of fear and he had retreated back into himself. As he lay there, desperately wanting to reach out to someone – or to Sam in particular – he knew that he couldn't. Instead he tried to close out everything and shut himself off from his friends. Maybe he was better alone.
When it became obvious that Jack wasn't going to say anything Sam stood up. She could feel the tears begin to form but she refused to let them fall. She'd shed too many in the last few days, weeks and months. She didn't think she could take much more.
"Goodbye Jack", she said quietly. When he still didn't respond she turned and left the room. She'd ask Thor to send her back to earth. She needed some time alone.
They'd all been camping out at Molly's, waiting for Jack to improve enough to be sent home. There was something about this tiny little house that was incredibly healing for all of them.
"Samantha!" Molly was surprised to see the younger woman appear in her living room, although she had started to get used to the 'popping in and out' of people. It wasn't her method of arrival that shocked the older woman, it was that she was here at all. Sam had been spending all her time with Jack and it was still early afternoon.
"How come you're back? Is Jack okay", she asked with a worried frown.
"He's fine Molly. I just needed a break." She tried to give the older woman a smile, although it came out a bit wobbly. "If it's okay I thought I'd take a nap."
Molly looked at her for a second. "No, I don't think you need a nap Samantha. I think you need a friend." Sam started to shake her head and then laughed at herself. She was doing a 'Jack O'Neill'.
"Yeah, maybe you're right." Molly reached out and took her hand and led her to the couch. Sitting beside her she held Sam's hands tightly.
"Okay young lady. Tell me what's wrong?" So Sam spent the next hour talking to Molly, telling her everything. She told her of the years they'd worked together; how their feelings for each other had grown but they couldn't do anything about them. She talked about how they had been getting to know each other as friends and possibly more, how wonderful and exciting it had been. Finally, she told of their betrayal and search for Jack.
"And now he's turning away from me again. I thought everything was fine, was great even. He told me how much he loved me; that he'd never leave me. I told him the same. I mean, he brought me back from the dead! Now he's lying there angry, he won't talk to any of us other than to say he's fine. I don't know what to do anymore Molly. Part of me wants to shake him and the other part just wants to leave. I don't know if I can take anymore."
"Do you really?"
Sam looked at her, confused. "Do I really what?"
"Want to leave?" she asked calmly. "Are you really prepared to walk away and never see him again?"
Sam sat, not saying anything for a couple of minutes, thinking about what her life would be like without Jack. A feeling of desolation washed over her and the tears that she'd worked so hard to suppress, began to gather in her eyes.
"No. No, I can't leave him. He's my life. But I don't know what to do anymore Molly. How can I reach him? How can I help him?"
"Maybe you can't."
"What? But … what are you saying?"
"Maybe you're too close to everything. I'm sure he's frightened and you're right, he probably is still angry. Oh, he knows logically that none of you were to blame, but he dealt with that betrayal for many months. It's difficult to just let go of it like that, even if he knows he has no reason to hold on to those feelings. As for the fear – well, from what you've told me he was pretty seriously injured and there's a possibility that he won't get 100 percent better. I think he'd find that pretty terrifying. He strikes me as a man used to being in control. I don't think he quite knows how to deal with everything that's happened."
Sam took a deep breath, realizing that Molly was right. It all made sense and she could even have some sympathy for the man. She still wanted to strangle him though! Why did he have to be so stubborn?
"I don't think you're the one to deal with this Samantha." Molly said gently. "You're too close to it, too close to Jack. I'm sure a lot of his fears are wrapped up in what this all means for you as well. The last thing he'd ever want is to hurt you. No, I think this requires a secret weapon!"
"Secret weapon?" Sam said, bemused.
"Mmmm Hmmm – one 81 year old, 90 pound Ukrainian Baba*! Everyone needs a baba sometimes and I think this calls for one." She stood up – all 4'8" of her. "Have Mr. Thor 'beam me up'. I'm going to have a little talk with that boy of mine!"
Sam looked at the little fireball in front of her and couldn't help but grin. If anyone could get through the defenses of a stubborn Irish General, it was a tiny Ukrainian grandmother!
Molly admitted to herself that she didn't think she was ever going to get used to this 'beaming' – or the fact that she was talking to a little grey alien. She just wished she could tell her bridge club about this!
As she walked in to the room where Jack lay sleeping in the 'pod-thing', all it took was one look at him to know she was needed. Even in sleep he looked worried and ill.
She sat in the chair by his bed and watched him as he continued to sleep. He was such a dear man, such a good man. But he was tormented by too many demons. Sam had told him a bit about what he'd been through and of course Chris had told her about his son Charlie.
Molly was a God-fearing woman and believed, to the bottom of her soul, that this man had been sent to them. He had brought joy back into her grandson's life – and to hers. She had thought for a time, after the death of her child, that she couldn't go on. Then Chris had come to live with her. Things had improved but she had spent too much time worrying over what would happen to him in the event of her death. Well, she'd prayed for a miracle – and God had sent her a 6'2" one. She just had to straighten him out a bit first!
She could tell that he was starting to wake up when she saw him take a deep breath. Soon his eyes opened, but he didn't look to see if anyone was with him. It was as if he knew he was all alone. The expression of desolation on his face was heartbreaking. She couldn't take it.
"Jack, my boy!" she said cheerfully. "How are you feeling? It looks like you could use some more fattening up again." He'd looked over at her in shock the moment she'd started to speak. This was the first time he'd seen her since they'd been brought to Angrboda's ship.
"Molly! What are you doing here?" he asked, pleased to see the old lady.
"Well, I heard you wouldn't talk to your team so I thought I'd come and see what was going on."
He grew silent at her words and began to turn away. Not her too, he thought.
Suddenly two small hands grabbed either side of his face and turned him back to look at her. He didn't want to pull away, afraid he'd hurt this tiny woman.
"Now, none of that Jack O'Neill. I hear you're being silly and I will not put up with that. You are going to listen to me and then you're going to talk to me. If you don't, why …" she reached into the big purse she was carrying and pulled out a wooden spoon and shook it at him. He stared at it in astonishment – then his sense of humor got the better of him and he started to laugh. Soon he was laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach.
Oh, he knew it really wasn't that funny, but he'd needed the release and this dear woman was just the one to bring it.
Molly watched indulgently while her adopted son continued to chortle over her little joke. She was relieved that he could still laugh. It meant there was hope!
"So, if you're finished let's have a talk. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours General? Why are you suddenly turning away from your friends? They love you dearly you know? They're all hurting over your coldness, especially Sam."
Jack desperately wanted to turn away and hide, as he'd done with Sam. He couldn't talk about his fears, it would make them seem real. Still, he knew, looking at Molly, that she wouldn't leave him alone until he'd spilled something. He decided he'd tell her the bare minimum and hoped she'd be satisfied with that.
Little did he know that Molly had his measure. She hadn't known Jack O'Neill for long, but she knew him as well as she'd known her own husband or child. She was not going to let him get away with hiding from her, not if she could help it.
So, Jack began to haltingly tell her the story of the supposed 'betrayal' of his friends and how he'd felt (editing that part fiercely). He told about the wandering aimlessly, the lack of desire or purpose in life. He then told of how he'd realized that Sam still loved him, how she'd sacrificed her own life for his. He talked finally about their experience at the 'beach' and their struggle to make it back to this world.
"I thought everything would be fine – but Molly, I still feel angry and hurt. I know it's not reasonable, not right. It wasn't their fault, I know that, but I can't seem to stop myself."
"Have you gotten angry at them?" she asked.
"Angry? No, at least not since I left the hospital. How can I? They don't deserve my anger."
"Deserve? No, they don't but then you didn't deserve what happened to you either. It was unfair all around. Maybe you need to tell them exactly how you felt, how you're still feeling. You might even need to yell and shout a bit. And then you have to listen to how they feel. I think they're feeling a bit angry at you too."
"Angry? What do they have to feel angry about?" he said, struggling to pull himself up.
"Well, you disappeared, didn't you? You didn't give them the chance to come and apologize, you didn't try and defend yourself, did you? I think you know, and they know as well, that you did what you did partly to punish them. You could have gone off by yourself without all of this 'hiding' but you knew they'd worry and feel terrible as soon as they realized you weren't guilty. So, I think you all have some feelings to get out. I expect that when you do you'll all feel much better."
"What! Is that the 'Molly Simkiew' method? We'll just yell and scream and then kiss and make up?" he asked sarcastically. He could fight fire with fire – or sarcasm in this case.
"Well, it's certainly better than the Jack O'Neill method – ignore it until your friends all go away. Are you determined to end up all alone?"
He looked furious at this and she knew she was getting to the heart of the matter.
"YES!" he shouted. "It's better that way."
"Better. Why is it better?" she asked, continuing to push him.
"Because that way no one will get hurt. I won't hurt my friends and they …" he voice faded, "and they won't hurt me." He lay back down and closed his eyes.
Molly felt terrible. She wanted to reach out and take this wounded man in her arms, but she knew that wasn't what he needed right now.
"So, you're afraid! You're afraid that if you open yourself up again you might be hurt, is that right?" she asked.
After a short silence he answered. "Yeah, I guess that's right."
"Well, guess what? You will be. You will be hurt again, that's the nature of love and of friendship. All of us are hurt at times by those we love but you know what? It works out because sometimes we hurt those we love. Sometimes the hurt is unintentional and other times each of us intends to hurt the other. But you know what else? That's why God invented forgiveness! When you truly love someone and they love you there's always that forgiveness. Hurt doesn't mean the end of love, it just means we all pick ourselves up and try harder until the next time we hurt or are hurt." She stopped and reached down to him again as he tried to turn away.
"Jack, being alone the rest of your life won't take away any and all pain – but it will take away any and all love or joy. You can go off and be alone – go to that cabin I've heard so much about from Teal'c and Daniel. You can fish all day long, but those fish won't bring you much comfort all alone at night."
He looked at this tiny woman and knew she spoke the truth – he'd known it all along – but there was still one thing holding him back, one thing he didn't think he could tell her.
As she looked at him she could see his anger turn to sorrow. She realized that he knew what she said was the truth, yet something was still wrong. What was it?
"Jack?" she reached down and took his hand. "Tell me." She held on tightly, knowing that it could go either way. He might speak and tell her what else was affecting him so deeply or he could turn away. Whatever happened in the next couple of seconds would mean the difference between a life of joy for Jack and Sam – or a life of loneliness for both of them.
He began to pull his hand away. He needed to move, to get away. He couldn't tell her – couldn't tell anyone. It was as he gently tried to remove his hand from hers that he felt a drop of moisture. Puzzled, he wondered what was happening. It was only as he looked up that he realized this strong little woman – who had been through so much – was crying. She was crying for him. That was all it took. He knew, at that moment, that too many hearts would be broken if he were to leave, to continue to close himself off.
Clutching her hand tightly he brought it to his cheek and then kissed it. He wanted to reach out with his other hand, to wipe the tears from her eyes, but he couldn't.
"I don't want to be a burden." He said in a thin voice.
"What?" she asked, surprised.
"Something's wrong with me Molly. I – the wounds I received have done some permanent damage, and I'm afraid."
"What kind of damage Jack?" she asked, frightened for him.
"Brain damage." He said, finally uttering the words out loud.
"But it can't be anything too bad, I haven't noticed anything and the others certainly haven't said anything."
He tried to lift his left hand but could barely bring it more than a couple of inches off the mattress. "My whole left side is mostly paralyzed. I can barely move."
She stared at him for a moment and then spoke. "Jack, it's too soon to know what the effects are going to be. You may need therapy and you may never be the same as you were but that doesn't mean you're not you. Do you think any of us will love you less because half of you isn't physically as strong as the other half? Don't be silly."
"Molly, that's not all." Before she had a chance to interject he continued. "They've told you what this is all about right?" she nodded. "Well, the Asgard who kidnapped me did something to me. She activated something in my brain and it's changing. I, I can feel that I'm different – that my mind isn't the same as it was."
"How is it not the same?" she asked, seriously worried now.
"I can't explain it. It's like it's 'expanding' or something. Some days I wake up and it feels like my mind is full, that it'll explode if there's any more 'added' to it. Then, the next day I'll feel fine. And I keep thinking things, things I didn't know before. It's like everything makes sense to me now – that stuff I didn't understand now seems so simple. I'm sorry, I know I'm not explaining it well. I don't even get it myself. I just know that I'm not me anymore!"
"Piffle!"
"What?" he asked, shocked.
"I said piffle – and I meant piffle! That's the most utter nonsense I've ever heard. According to what Mr. Thor said – and yes, he told us a bit of this – your mind is filling with some Ancient knowledge. Your brain is taking in more information and abilities all the time. That is why you're feeling the way you're feeling. But knowledge doesn't mean you're a different person. So, you'll probably be smarter than the rest of us – at least as far as book learning is concerned – but you're still a stubborn, pig-headed idiot! But you're also a dear sweet man who cares more for others than yourself. You're still you! I suggest you talk to Sam and to Mr. Thor about all this. They're better equipped to tell you what this means but I do know that Mr. Thor didn't seem too worried by it."
He looked at her in wonder. How was it that she made everything seem so – reasonable – and simple. He was still nervous and afraid but now it didn't seem insurmountable. So he'd need therapy for his weakness, he could handle that. So, he'd be smarter than everyone (hey, smarter than Carter and Daniel!) okay, he could deal with that too.
He stared at Molly, thinking how lucky he'd been to find her and Chris. As he watched her he had no idea how frightened she was at this moment. She didn't know if her words had gotten through to him or not. It was when a grin slowly started to appear on his face that she was finely able to breath a sigh of relief.
"So, no wooden spoon?" he asked.
"Well, the verdict is still out on that, but for now you're okay. Just don't be an idiot in the future. It's too much for an old lady's heart!"
Even though she was half joking Jack realized that this had, in fact, been hard on the old woman.
"Come here." He said quietly to her. He wished he could sit up properly.
"What are you up to now Jack O'Neill?"
"Just come here Molly. I can't sit up on my own yet." That's right Jack, play pathetic!
Molly looked at him suspiciously but leaned down. He pulled his head up quickly and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you Molly! You'll never know what this has meant to me." He let his head fall back down, feeling exhausted but relaxed for the first time in days.
"Piffle!" she said again, extremely touched. "You get some sleep young man!" she continued sternly, although her throat was tight from holding back the tears. "Would you like me to send anyone to see you?" she asked innocently.
He looked up at her with a very knowing look. After a few seconds he closed his eyes, not saying anything, and pretended to fall asleep. Just as he heard her begin to move away he spoke.
"Yeah, could you ask Carter to come?" He heard Molly stop. "Oh, and tell her I'm sorry for being such an idiot and that I really, really need her." He kept his eyes closed but he was sure he could feel Molly smile.
"For that, young man, I'll send her right here. I might even send her back with a big piece of homemade chocolate cake!"
As she walked out of the room to where Mr. Thor would beam her back home she was sure she heard a small chuckle. He was going to be all right.
As Jack drifted off to sleep he had exactly the same thought – he was going to be just fine!