Jack staggered slightly as Teal'c gave him a final shove into the room. He quickly turned to regard the now closed door. Part of him wanted to try and pry the door open, but Jack was fairly certain that the large man still stood on the other side, preventing his escape. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, Teal'c had merely insisted that Jack follow him.

Accepting that he'd have to go along with whatever was planned, Jack turned back around to look at Sam. She returned the look, sitting on the bed, but was unable to meet his eyes. He didn't like the expression on her face, brow furrowed with deep conflict.

"Hey, Carter," Jack said, mustering an easiness in his tone that he didn't truly feel.

"Sir," she replied. He stopped all attempts at humor. Sam knew him too well to be fooled, anyway.

"How are you?"

Sam hesitated. He watched her exhale deeply before finally looking in his eyes. "Sir, we need to talk."

"Why?" It was all he could say. Why would she ever want to hear that?

"I need to know," Sam said.

"No, you don't."

"Colonel..."

He quickly cut her off. "Carter, no. What the hell is wrong with you? If you can't remember, believe me, take it as a blessing."

"It's not that simple," she said.

"Sure it is."

Sam shook her head fervently. Jack could only look on as she closed her eyes and took her head in her hands. "I can't get that sound out of my head."

"Carter?" Jack took a small step forward, concerned. "I thought you didn't remember."

"Only you calling out my name, nothing before or after."

He couldn't even truly claim memory of that moment. At that time it had been all reflex and reaction. Lunging for her was just a blur, and Jack couldn't rightly say if he had screamed or not. He only had the others words to take for that.

"Just let it be," Jack insisted.

"Let it be?" Sam gestured to his wound. "I shot you!"

He couldn't help but snap back. "Better than the alternative."

Sam fell into a stunned silence. Jack could almost be proud of himself, if it hadn't been obvious that she hadn't even considered that possibility. That he had not been her target. Just what had she thought she was trying to do? Jack had to look away from the raw pain that she exuded.

"Oh my God." Her voice was barely a whisper. He could see her swiping away tears from the corner of his eye.

Jack didn't know what to do. He had no clue what to say. Part of him wanted to just leave right then, stop this from going any further. But that would be exceedingly cruel of him, to dump this revelation on her and disappear.

He tried to soften the blow. "You didn't think it was real. You didn't really think it would kill you."

Jack didn't really believe that. He had seen her face. Whatever she did or didn't believe at the time, it was obvious what she hoped. And in those moments, she had been hoping for death. Real death.

Sam hugged her arms around her chest, frowning. "I think I wanted it to."

"Is that memory or just intuition?" Jack wasn't sure which he wanted it to be. He had questions of his own, but he didn't really want to drag her back through it.

"I don't know." She shrugged.

Finally Jack pulled over the chair, collapsing heavily into it. He wasn't sure why he spoke. "I tried to stop you, talk you down."

"Sir, I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he warned. "Sorry for what? That you missed?"

She could only stare at him, incredulous.

But now that it was all bubbling inside of him, Jack couldn't hold himself back. "Or are you sorry that you gave up on us? Is that why you apologized before?"

Jack scrubbed his face with both hands, heedless of the pain that shot through his stiff shoulder. He didn't dare to look at Sam. He knew his words hurt, and his anger was directed at the wrong person. Sam didn't deserve his blame, she was the helpless victim in all this. She had no control over what had happened to her, or how the drugs had affected her. But the true enemy in all this was light years away, and with nowhere else to direct his anger, it had simply boiled over and sprang forth.

"Ah, Sam, don't listen to me. I'm being an idiot. I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at them. This is all their fault, and it just pisses me off to no end that they don't have to pay for what they did."

Jack waited for a response, still unable to make himself look up at her. He listened to her breath hitch, and Jack had to fight back tears of his own. Man, he was getting really good at screwing up.

"I wasn't strong enough," Sam finally said, her voice pathetic.

Jack shook his head. "That's not possible." Now he looked up at her, and Sam looked back at him dumbly. Her name rolled off his lips again, feeling like the right thing to say. "Jesus, Sam. After all that those bastards did, you still ran yourself ragged trying to look out for us. Even when you had no right to be able to, you just kept moving. How much stronger do you want to be?"

"I don't know how to deal with this," she admitted.

"Me neither," Jack said, giving her a quirky half smile, "obviously."

Her lips twitched, but Sam didn't smile back. Instead she looked at him thoughtfully. "How's the shoulder?"

"Bah, it'll be good as new in no time," Jack said dismissively.

He was glad when the response seemed to give her some comfort. "Good."

"You're not going to keep kicking yourself over all this, right?"

Sam sighed. "You guys keep making that harder and harder to do."

"That's what we're here for," Jack said.

"I guess it is," Sam agreed.

"Damn straight."