For those who read chapter 7 before I took it down: please read again, I made a minor change. And I added a little bit. Thank you for following
"Dr. Karen Shen's office, my name is Amy?"
"Hi, this is Samantha Carter. I used to be Dr. Shen's patient when I was a child. Could I talk to her, please?"
"I'll see if I can patch you through, ma'am."
"Shen?"
"Hi doctor, this is Samantha Carter. I'm not sure if you remember me."
"Of course! When Amy told me you were on the line it took me a moment – you used to be called 'Sam' back then, right?"
Sam smiled.
"Actually I still am."
"How are you, Sam? It's been what – 20 years?"
"Yes, roughly. I'm fine. I followed in my father's footsteps."
"What, you joined the air force? That's the last thing I expected after how difficult your relationship was back then."
They talked a little more, and then Sam got to the point.
"Actually I just wanted to check if you still practice. I might have a client for you, doc."
~o0o~
Jack decided to spend some time in the gym. He would have to take it easy, but it might help him to sleep. He had to regain strength anyway if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life off the roster. He stepped on the treadmill and started at a slow pace, trying to find his rhythm. 15 minutes later the door opened and Daniel Jackson came in. The linguist froze the moment he saw Jack. He had been avoiding his friend since it had become clear he wouldn't respond to him, and he had felt guilty about it all the time. And now he felt like he was intruding. He started to retreat, but when Jack stopped the treadmill he took a step into the room.
"It's OK, Daniel. Come in."
A little unsure Daniel got on another treadmill next to the colonel's, and for another half hour they ran side by side.
Jack's little workout did help him to fall asleep but it didn't prevent the nightmare from coming back.
The next morning Janet wanted to decide whether or not to release him home, so again he didn't tell her. She wasn't completely convinced that he was ready, but he argued that she couldn't keep him "confined" forever, and she had to agree.
When Sam pulled up in front of his house she had a bad feeling about dropping him there and leaving him alone. She certainly didn't want to ask, but finally she brought herself to say:
"I don't think you should be alone tonight, sir. How about I crash on your couch?"
It was such an uncharacteristic thing for her to say that he simply gave her 'the look'. She was clearly uncomfortable, but she had decided she would take on this battle and refused to back down. So she held his gaze until he turned and got out of the car.
"Sir? Are you OK with this?"
He was already on his way to the front door, so she couldn't be sure if he had heard her.
They got her settled on the couch in his living-room and he made his retreat to his bed-room without much conversation. Sam was determined to take first watch, and second, if necessary, at least until she could be sure he was asleep. She lay in the dark, listening to any sound for almost an hour. There was nothing from his bed-room, so she finally allowed herself to drift away.
When she woke up she didn't actually know why. Her trained senses must have detected a change, though now there was no sound. She got up and looked down the hallway. There was a faint light coming from under the bed-room door. She went to knock, but decided differently. Carefully she opened the door a small crack and said his name. When there was no answer she opened the door some more and stuck her head in.
He was lying on his back, his eyes wide open. His gray T-shirt was drenched in sweat. When Sam stepped closer he didn't react at first, but then he snapped out of his stupor and moved away from her.
"It's OK, sir, it's me, Carter. Can I take a seat?"
She stood next to his bed, not moving an inch until he relaxed a little and nodded. So she sat down cautiously on the edge of his bed, careful not to be too close.
"Nightmare, sir?"
He simply closed his eyes. She already thought he might have fallen asleep again when he answered her.
"I don't remember. I never do. I just wake up like this..."
"Are you saying this has happened before?"
"Every night since I got released from the infirmary."
"Does Janet know about it?"
"Carter, it's just dreams. I had those before. I'll live."
"OK. But now that I am here, what can I do?"
He let out a sigh but didn't say anything.
"Sir, I need you to work with me here. I know you think that there is nothing I can do for you, but I don't buy that. Please tell me what you want me to do."
"What do you want to do?"
All passive. It was frustrating. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"It's not about what I want, sir. It's about what you need."
"Well maybe what I need is silly."
Suddenly she saw her chance. She kept her tone deliberately casual:
"We'll see, sir. Spill."
He ignored her attempt at lightness, but he reacted to the content.
"I'd like you to call me by my name. Just for the moment."
It was low, almost shy. As if he was afraid she might really find it silly. It cut right through her heart.
"Sure – Jack. I can do that."
It felt weird and inappropriate, but his features softened when he heard her say it. So it was worth it, Sam decided.
"They took it from me", he said, seemingly out of the blue. Before she could ask a question, he went on as if he wanted to get it out of is system in one go.
"They tortured me for hours to get my name, and when I finally gave in they said they would take it from me. That I wasn't Jack anymore. They called me something I didn't understand, said that would be my name from now, and explained what it meant. It's what they call a male animal that was gelded."
His voice was strained.
"So now I need someone I trust, someone – who – cares about me to give it back to me."
Swallowing once Sam said:
"That's OK with me, Jack. I will."
They were silent for a while, but then Sam couldn't hold back anymore.
"Jack, there is something I need to know."
He looked at her and obviously expected something painful.
"What?"
"When you open up to me like this, my instinct is to touch you. Hold you, whatever. I need to know if you'd be alright with that."
He seemed to ponder on that for a moment.
"Remember in the infirmary, when you sat with me, trying to get my permission?"
She nodded.
"The first time you asked I wanted to scream 'Yes!', but I couldn't. I wasn't allowed to speak...I mean I desperately wanted you to touch me, but I had been taught not to want anything. When I couldn't respond I was scared to the bone you would give up and walk out on me. Every time you tried I got a little closer to answering, until finally I could. So I guess the answer is yes. I am alright with it. As long as it's you."
She looked at him with all her emotions written on her face.
"Come here", she said and reached out to him. Immediately he moved into her embrace as if he had been waiting for it his whole life.
~o0o~
The next night Sam refused to go to sleep. She even convinced Jack to leave his bed-room door ajar. And then she waited. It made her sick to imagine what the colonel might have gone through. She was interrupted from her thoughts when she heard a sound from his room. She didn't bother knocking but went straight to his bed. He tossed and turned and looked like he was in pain. Knowing that it was probably a bad idea but unsure how to help him otherwise she put her hand on his shoulder. He snapped awake, grabbed her wrist and threw her on the bed, twisting her arm behind her back and holding her down with the whole weight of his body. Struggling to speak against the pain he caused her she rushed out:
"Jack, please, let me go. It's me, Carter. You had a bad dream."
He let go of her immediately and withdrew to the far side of the bed. Not looking at her he mumbled:
"Oh god, Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
She tried to ignore the pain in her shoulder and faced him.
"It's OK, Jack. It's not that bad. Please calm down."
He was pale, there was sweat on his forehead, and he was staring at nothing. And all of a sudden he vomited on the bed. He was shaking, but when Sam tried to comfort him he said:
"Don't. Don't touch me, not right now."
"OK Jack, I won't. Why don't you take a shower while I clean this up?"
"You really don't have to do this, Carter."
"But I will. Just go."
It became finally clear to her how spent he was when he simply got up without further discussion.
When he came back he looked a little better, the hot shower had clearly helped. Sam had made the bed and sat on the edge waiting for him.
"Thank you", he said with the smallest smile.
"You're welcome. Think you can sleep?"
He crawled in between the fresh sheets and remained silent for a moment.
"Don't think so."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"At least try to rest a little, Jack", she said, and there was nothing professional about the way she said it.
She pulled the door close this time and went back to the couch. And that's when she gave in to the tears she had been holding back all the time.