Four (After Ba'al)

Jack couldn't sleep.

Hours had passed since he'd come through the gate, pulling Shayla, the witness to his days of horror with Ba'al, with him. He'd since been in Doctor Frasier's very capable hands; she'd given him a thorough physical and had found that despite exhaustion and malnutrition he had no discernable injuries. It was only after she had taken a closer look at his clothes, with the acid holes and knife marks, that she had questioned him on the sarcophagus use.

He'd told Janet the truth, as close as he was willing to part with anyway, and had debriefed with Hammond quickly, a more in depth debriefing would take place tomorrow. That, Jack was not looking forward to. For now he was relegated to a night's stay in Janet's care, while he was observed for signs of sarcophagus withdrawal and what he knew they all suspected but wouldn't say in front of him; mental trauma.

He'd done the torture thing before, being captured and held against his will was nothing new to Jack. But even he had limits, and being literally tortured to death, revived and killed again for information he didn't know he had, had been as close to he'd ever gotten to reaching them. He didn't want to even think about if he'd been in there just one more day… he wouldn't have escaped. He would have given up.

Jack rolled over in the infirmary bed, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't that he was fighting sleep or that he was afraid of the dreams, he just wasn't tired. His mind had too much to process, to much to think through. Shayla had given a report to General Hammond just before the Tok'ra had come through the gate and taken her with them; there had barely been enough time for her to give Jack a smile in goodbye. Jack was almost relieved that she had left; he didn't want the reminder of his time in Ba'al's torture chamber, nor did he want anything around that would trigger the memories of his brief time spent with Kanan.

He hoped that snake was dead. Long dead and trampled on and ground into the floor like the cowardly, spineless parasite that it was. Kanan had kept his distance from Jack when they had first blended; Jack wasn't aware of much to begin with, he'd been too sick to really notice the extra presence in his mind. But as he'd gotten stronger, he'd grown more aware of the Tok'ra, who was just as arrogant and self-righteous as the rest of his race. It wasn't until Jack had stumbled across the memory of Shayla that he'd felt something vaguely familiar. The memory of the woman that had been left behind was human, almost, in its intensity and realness. It was that day, when he'd prodded a little too far into Kanan's memories, that the damn Tok'ra had hijacked his body in an attempt to rescue Shayla. However, the cowardly symbiote couldn't face torture and had bailed on Jack at the first opportunity, leaving him alone to deal with Ba'al and his sick games.

It was the second time he had been snaked. Both times he'd come out the other side completely snake free, no naquadah or protein marker like Carter had from Jolinar, just a bunch of bad memories and an even more intense dislike of snakes. He just owed the little bastard his life, although he wasn't entirely sure the price he'd paid had been worth it.

The snake wasn't the worst thing; Ba'al and his bag of sadistic torture tricks had been by far Jack's least favourite venture into Goa'uld crazy town, even though it had given him the chance to see Daniel; although he was starting to doubt his realness. He wasn't going to revisit it now, even in his memories, there would be time enough for that at the debriefing in the morning. He'd keep the Daniel stuff to himself; the shrinks would already be onto him, didn't need to give them more fuel. He could only hope it would be a private debrief, he wasn't sure he would be able to have Carter and Teal'c's eyes on him as he spoke of what had happened. He already saw the blame Carter had placed on herself, no doubt for asking him to take the symbiote.

He could never say no to her. It was a weird power she had over him that he liked to deny existed. What was worse, she knew it too. She never used it against him, ever. Unless it was absolutely necessary, like to save lives; save his own life.

Jack closed his eyes and feigned sleep when he heard soft footsteps come around the corner, concerned it was Janet or one of nurses making sure he was resting; with a needle full of sedatives in their hand in case he wasn't. The light footsteps weren't those of medical personnel though; he finally recognised the subtle smell of Carter's perfume as the steps grew closer, the very woman he could not say no too.

He continued to fake sleep, listening as a stool scraped softly on the floor to settle beside his bed. He felt the warmth of her body from where she sat close to him, then the soft touch of her hand against his own as she laced her fingers with his.

"I'm really sorry sir," Her voice was soft and Jack realised there was no way she would have touched him or said the words unless she believed he had been given something to help him sleep. Carter had seen her share of his nightmares, and knew to take caution with her sleeping C.O., it seemed she'd been misinformed as to his medication. He didn't care what the reason was for her presence though, he was just glad to not be alone with only his thoughts for company.

He felt the mattress to his side depress slightly as she dropped her head to the bed. Light shudders coursed through the bed as she cried; she wasn't sobbing but she was shaking just enough that Jack could feel it. His heart ached to comfort her, but he knew she would only be embarrassed and back-peddle if he were to break his feigned sleep and touch her. Slowly, the shaking stopped and Carter's breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. She was asleep.

He waited a while before opening his eyes and looking down at her still form. Her head was turned ever so slightly towards him; even in sleep he could see the lines of stress on her face that his disappearance had caused. He ached to smooth them away with his lips, but settled for running a light fingertip against the deepest line in her forehead.

It was such a gentle touch, but it was enough to wake the lightly sleeping major; she opened her eyes and locked them onto his own. He couldn't look away, he couldn't even bring himself to move his hand from where it rested on her forehead. For a long time they just stared into each other's eyes, reaffirming each other of the other's steady presence on the bed.

"Sir," It was Carter's soft voice that broke the silence, "You should get some sleep."

"So should you…" Jack pointed out lightly. He moved his fingers through her hair, not caring that he shouldn't be doing it. He'd just been tortured to death multiple times by a completely sadistic Goa'uld. He was willing to bend their self-imposed boundaries just this once.

"I could stay awhile," Sam said, she didn't seem to mind the fingers brushing through her hair, in fact, her eyes were half closed and she looked relaxed.

Jack nodded, "Guess I could use the company."

He was starting to feel tired, the familiar scent of her perfume and her warm gaze through slitted eyes was having an almost sedative-like effect on his over-active mind, he felt warm and safe, like he really was actually home, "Carter?" he murmured sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Talk to me," Jack said quietly, "About anything… just talk to me."

Sam smiled, "Sure… I'll fill you in on the mission to Stevenson later, but what you really want to hear about is the time I had to spend with Jonas and Teal'c in this tiny little motel room…"

Her voice was quiet and soothing. Jack closed his eyes, letting his fingers rest gently in her hair and listening to her speak as he slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

***

End Part Four