Chapter 17

Sam came awake with a rush and the sudden, certain knowledge that something was wrong. She lay still, questing outward with her senses. The cabin was quiet. Moonlight streamed through the window, lighting softly on the bed and casting the room in an ethereal glow. Outside, trees swayed gently in the light fall breeze, casting long, moving shadows in the deep night. Sam lay on her side, her back pressed against Jack's, who was also lying on his side. Sam was momentarily puzzled. Her mind screamed that something was wrong, but her waking senses were reporting "All Clear." Sam continued to lie still as sleep faded and her body responded to ingrained training for instant action.

A whimper broke the silence and Sam felt Jack shiver behind her. As she turned to face him, a low growl escaped Jack's throat and he curled tighter into himself. Sam could see sweat beading down the long column of his spine and heard his breath quicken to short pants. Jack was in the grip of a nightmare. Sam paused, momentarily. Ever since Antarctica, Sam had known Jack had nightmares. He slept too lightly when they were in the field to be bothered by the intrusion, but over the years, she had come to recognize the subtle clues that he'd spent a restless night battling the many demons that haunted him: the bags under his eyes that didn't disappear with a strong cup of coffee; the hunted look he would sometimes get when he thought no one was watching; the false cheer in his voice if she or Daniel asked after him.

The months following his capture by Ba'al had been the worst. Sam had longed to hold him and comfort him as he grappled with the memories of Kanan's dominance and Ba'al's torture. Their ranks and roles had forced her to silence, but now, as Jack whimpered and began rocking, Sam reached out and placed her hand softly on his shoulder, edging her body behind his. Jack was soaked with sweat, but Sam didn't care. She curled around him, sheltering him with her body as she stroked his damp hair and murmured endearments, urging him gently from the grip of terror.

Jack swam sluggishly to the surface, struggling to break free from the grip of remembered pain, fear and loathing. His time in Iraq blending in horrific harmony with the image of Ba'al and his web of torture. Jack woke with a gasp, sweat soaked and shivering, to the warm feel of Sam's protection and soothing comfort. Never before had he woken from a nightmare with such a sense of relief and peace. Always before, he had struggled, chilled to the bone and gasping, as he waited for the horror to recede and release him.

With Sam at his back, warming his chilled body, and stroking his hair, the demons fled before her succor. Relief washed through Jack; gratitude and love for Sam hard on its heals. Jack turned on his back and gathered Sam tightly to his chest. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and continued to stroke his chest, offering comfort and solace. They stayed wrapped in each others arms for long moments, bathed in the bright moonlight.

Finally, Jack felt he could squeeze words passed the tight lump in his throat. "Thank you." His whisper barely stirred the air.

Sam stilled her hand and looked up into his eyes. She reached up and brushed a bead of sweat off Jack's brow, stroked his cheek and brushed softly along his jaw, compassion and love bright in her eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jack shook his head. He never talked about his nightmares. Not with anyone.

"I have them too. I still dream of being hunted by the Super Soldier." Sam whispered.

"I can't talk about them. If I talk about them, they'll become real again." Jack held Sam tightly to his chest. His heart thumped heavily in her ear. "Just hold me, okay?"

Sam nodded and reached across his chest, snuggling deeply into his arms and Jack began to relax. He was grateful Sam hadn't tried to push him to talk. He'd told her the truth. He couldn't talk about the nightmares. He'd never been able to talk about the nightmares. It was one of the things that had driven a wedge between him and Sara, when he'd come back from Iraq. Sara had begged Jack to talk about what had happened to him and she had felt rejected when he told her he could not. Her feelings of rejection had prevented her from being able to offer comfort for his nightmares. She had needed to know and he had been unable to tell her.

Sam's quiet acceptance released tension Jack hadn't known he carried. A silent tear escaped and slid into his pillow and Jack drew a quivering breath. He hadn't known how much he had dreaded Sam's reaction to his nightmares. That she could accept his inability to talk about them and still offer him the comfort and security he had felt in her arms was and incredible relief. She was a soldier and she understood.

"I love you." It was the best he could offer to convey the feelings that swelled and swirled within his chest. Relief, gratitude, love, caring, tenderness. "I love you." He whispered again.

Sam looked at him and again brushed his brow. "I love you too, Jack. Sleep. I'll always be here for you." With that Sam gave him one last hug before she slipped into the soft arms of sleep. Jack lay awake for some time, holding Sam and contemplating his unbelievable good fortune before he too passed into dreamless slumber.