Alternatives

Chapter XI: While You're Unconscious

Based upon Stargate: SG-1

Rating: PG

- JOR - Based on the Season 7 episodes: "Death Knell" and "Heroes, Pt II" ; takes place during said episodes -

- . - - - . -

Jack walked back into the Infirmary and saw Jacob asleep in the chair next to Carter's bed. Fraiser had patched her up and sedated her a couple hours before. Jack knew Jacob was going to have to leave soon, the alliance with the Tok'ra having finally bit the dust. Jack wasn't going to lie and say that he was going to miss the Tok'ra, but he definitely was going to miss having Jacob around. He was just an all-around good guy.

Jack poked the former General gently. "Jacob," he sing-songed. "Jaacoob."

Jacob jumped, inhaling sharply. He looked at Jack and settled down. "Jack, you just about scared the daylights out of me."

Jack smiled. "I tend to have that affect on people. Why don't you go catch a few winks in a bed, and I'll keep an eye on Carter, here."

Jacob smiled and stood up, stretching. "You're right, Jack. Have someone get me if she wakes up. I'll be back in a few hours."

Jack nodded and watched Jacob leave. He turned to Carter and watched her for a second. He pulled her blanket up a little higher and then pulled the chair a little closer to her bed. He sat down and leaned on the arm, thinking.

"Ya, know," he said. "I always hate it in movies when the awake person says to the comatose person 'I don't know if you can hear me.' If they can hear you, they think it's a stupid comment, and if they can't hear you . . . then what's the point?" He looked around, to make sure that no one was around to overhear him.

"While you're unconscious, I'm going to get a few things off my chest, because I am positive that I'm talking to myself here." He smiled nervously and checked, again, to make sure the Infirmary was empty. "You make me uncomfortable.

He paused and took a deep breath. "You know me. I'm an easy going guy. I'm comfortable everywhere, in every situation. I laugh in the face of danger, snakeheads and slimy politicians. But you make me uncomfortable, Carter. I think before I speak around you -- now that's an accomplishment.

"I just don't want to say anything stupid, or . . . too stupid . . . in front of you. I plead the Fifth around you just so I don't have to be myself or let you know how I really feel. I'm just really glad you're okay; that we were able to get you out of there. I mean, you had things pretty much covered, but still. . . . I'm glad that you're home, safe and sound.

Jack slouched in his chair, and drummed his fingers against his knee. "See, Carter, uncomfortable in my own skin. And don't confuse this with the way I am normally on Fraiser's turf. It's you, not the Fraiser's Domain, that's affecting me." He took a slow breath and blew it out through his lips, looking around. "Well, isn't it awkward in here, now?

He took another deep breath. "I don't know where this thing with Pete is going, but, just so you know, I'm going to pretend to be okay with it. Believe me, I want you to be happy and I want you to have it all. So, I'm going to be the good friend and smile; even though I would give anything . . ." he paused and chuckled, "to be able to say it out loud, even when you can't hear me."

Reaching over to an instrument tray, Jack picked up an object and started fiddling it. "Alright, Carter. I'll shut up and let you get some sleep while you're knocked out."

- . - . -

Sam walked into the Infirmary, which was still bustling with activity. "Major," a nurse saw her as she entered, "grab a seat, someone will be with you in a minute."

She nodded and looked around for a seat. She saw the chair next to Colonel O'Neill's bed. She pulled it right up tight next to him and sat down.

Colonel O'Neill was finally out of surgery, but still unconscious. Doctor Carmichael said he was going to fine; he was lucky that most of the energy was absorbed by the blast shield in his vest.

Seeing him, alive, brought tears to her eyes, again. "It's going to be like this for a long time, isn't it, Sir?" she asked quietly, knowing very well that he couldn't hear her and that he wasn't going to answer. But that was okay, she didn't need him to answer and she didn't want him to hear.

"I'm sorry," she said, "about Pete. And thank you, for at least pretending you're okay with it. But we both knew that this was going to happen. One of us was going to have to move on eventually.

"It's just . . . I guess I should tell you, while you're unconscious and can't bring it up again, that getting over you is going to be one of the hardest things I'm ever going to have to do. But I knew it was never going to be easy."

Her memory brought up a flash of her, concussed and marooned on a broken starship, and him, a figment of her imagination. "I'd give you up right now, if I knew."

"That easy?"

"I never said it would be easy."

"Thank you, for being here for me, and no matter what happens . . . just know that . . ." she laughed at herself a little. "I can't say it, not even when you can't hear me." She let her eyes drift close for a second and imagined a life where she could say it. "But you know," she whispered and took his hand. "You know."

"Major?" the nurse returned.

Sam looked up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I'll make this quick. I'm sure you want to go rest."

There was a quick exam, just enough to make sure that she was physically okay, and the nurse released her. Sam paused at the door, looking back at Colonel O'Neill. "Can you tell me when he's up and about?"

The nurse nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

Sam made her way to her on base quarters. Once safely inside, she sank onto the bed and started removing her boots. She paused once they were off and took a deep breath. She wanted to be held.

And not by Pete Shannahan.

- . - - - . -