Author's Note: For the person who asked and didn't leave me a way to reply - we are, perhaps, about 20% of the way through this story.
Many thanks to those that are reading; I hope you continue to be compelled to click on the next chapters. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - if I haven't responded directly please know I've read and savored your kind words.
Sam stares out into the dark night sky from the observation deck. Surrounded by telescopes she feels as close to at home as she is likely to get before Janet releases her from base. The quiet whir of the internal motors of the 'scopes soothe her. Though they are run by computers inside – by the real deep space telemetry folks – it feels like she is a part of something normal. Even though she can't see the screens showing the near and far reaches of space they are picking up, even though it feels like she really is just an observer of life these days, it is a comforting place for her to be. Though she does know one of those telescopes is trained on the part of the galaxy in which she'd been held prisoner for seventeen weeks.
Out in the fresh air she feels alive. After all those weeks under ground she figures it isn't any wonder. Also, this is apparently the one place on base she can truly be alone. She's no fool. She knows she's on camera. She knows Daniel, Teal'c or the Colonel one are hanging out in the control room surreptitiously watching her. But still, this is a private enough place. And she can have her own private thoughts.
Even if these days she's mostly just feeling sorry for herself.
A bolt of lightening flashes across the sky – close enough the hairs on her arms stand on end. She revels in the crackle that breathes life into the uncharacteristically breezeless air. A shadow falls across the deck and she knows tonight's observer – the Colonel – has stepped up close to the window. In her mind's eye she can see him; a pensive look will be on his face while his fingers are pressed against the glass.
She knows he wants to help. But she can't take the look of pity in his eyes. Not tonight.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"This is just about getting through the day, right?" she asks Natalie. Sam was surprised to find the woman in her office at 9:30 on a Tuesday night. Surprised, but a little glad.
"Right now, yes."
"So how do I get them to stop looking at me like I'm broken?"
"Who?"
Sam gestures helplessly towards the hallway. "…Them." She wishes she could articulate exactly whom but she feels like it would be too revealing. "All of them."
"Everyone on base? Everyone on base is looking at you like you're broken?"
Sam knows she can't say yes. She's not so narcissistic that even she believes everyone on base is tuned into her or her recent exploits. She figures a little truth might make this all easier. "My team."
Natalie doesn't answer right away so Sam tries for a little more truth. "Daniel. Colonel O'Neill."
"Not Teal'c?"
"No," Sam answers simply.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Sam's momentarily taken aback. She came with the questions tonight and so far she hasn't gotten any answers. "Um…okay."
"Why do you call Colonel O'Neill 'Colonel O'Neill'?"
Sam must be looking at Natalie like she's stupid because the doctor follows up with: "I just mean that I've worked with members of the military for a while now, and on this base specifically for a couple of weeks. I've noticed that most all the team members refer to each other by their first names. But Colonel O'Neill calls you 'Carter' and you call him 'Colonel O'Neill'. Why is that?
Sam sighs. "I don't really know."
"Do you ever call him Jack?"
Sam just shakes her head. When Natalie fails to continue Sam volunteers, "He used to call me Sam."
"Did something happen? Are you not as close as you used to be?"
"No," Sam says uncomfortably. "We're closer than we used to be."
"Does that make you uncomfortable? Is he making you uncomfortable?"
Sam doesn't answer, but she does sit down on Natalie's couch.
"Sam?"
"Right now he's making me uncomfortable."
"Why?"
"Because…"
"Why?" Natalie presses.
"Because…"
"Because your relationship isn't purely professional?"
"No!" Sam exclaims appalled.
"No, your relationship is purely professional or…"
"Yes, our relationship is purely profession and no, that's not why I'm uncomfortable."
"So, you're not friends?"
"Well…yes, I suppose we're friends. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"It's not like we hang out together or anything."
"Why not?"
"He's my superior officer."
"I understand a lot of teams spend social time together."
Sam shrugs and Natalie nods. "So, why is he making you uncomfortable? You know, right now."
"Because…" this time Natalie lets Sam fill the space with her thoughts and, eventually, Sam continues, "because he keeps looking at me like I'm about to fall apart."
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Are you about to fall apart?"
Sam flops her head against the back of the couch and watches the ceiling lose focus through tears. "I don't know."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"I just feel so bad for her," Daniel says morosely into his coffee.
Jack shovels a massive spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "She doesn't need your pity, Daniel."
"Then she doesn't need yours, Jack."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's how you look at her. Like she's…"
"Like she's what?"
"Damaged."
"Well, she was."
"And now she'll get better."
"Not by herself, she won't," Jack mutters.
"She's got excellent medical care. Janet and Doctor Jordan seem to be doing a fine job."
"Yeah," Jack says noncommittally. It's not like he thinks the doctors are doing a bad job. He just can't help but replay Doc Jordan's words every time he's in a room with Carter: She's going to need you to be a friend long before she's going to need you to be her commanding officer.
The trouble is, he's not sure how to just be Carter's friend. Especially not after what happened at the festival on '432.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
She's just about had it. She's not allowed to workout properly so she settles for the one exercise Janet's cleared her for – she heads to the pool. She might be most of the way put back together thanks to the use of a healing device and father, but about sixty laps in she's tired and she hurts. She stops at the end of the pool and folds her arms over the edge so she can catch her breath. It's then she notices Teal'c sitting on a bench a few yards away.
"I thought the Colonel was on Carter-duty tonight," she spits.
"I do not know what you mean, Major Carter."
"My baby sitter. Someone to make sure I don't throw in the towel and make a break for it."
"Why would you throw your towel, Major Carter?"
Sam just sighs. "Why are you here, Teal'c?"
"I thought perhaps you might like some company. I am feeling a bit unsettled myself."
This surprises her. "You are? Why?"
"I owe you an apology, Major Carter."
"What?"
Teal'c stands and crosses to the pool until he's towering above her. She can't help the flinch and he notices. "That is why." He crouches down in front of her and suddenly he doesn't seem quite so imposing. "I've made you frightened of me."
Guilt floods her. "No, Teal'c. You didn't."
"But you see, I did. I, too, left you in that place. And for that I will always be sorry."
Sam's not sure what to say. "Do you think I'm damaged, Teal'c?"
"I think you were injured gravely, Major Carter."
She nods. "Do you think I'll ever get better?"
"I think you become stronger each day."
"I'm not so sure."
"Then let me shoulder the burden of having confidence enough for the both of us." He reaches out a hand to her and helps her out of the pool.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Jack doesn't quite know what to do when he's cornered in the locker room by a clueless Carter. She's clearly just out of the pool and thinks she's alone. Typically she would be at, he checks his watch, 11:30 on a Tuesday night.
He clears his throat when she hasn't noticed his presence after thirty seconds or so.
She whirls around and he tries not to notice how frightened she is. "Easy, Carter. Just me."
Her eyes remain wild for the span of several heartbeats. Finally, recognition seems to dawn. "Oh. Sorry, sir."
"It's fine, Carter." He holds up his hand and the binder he's grasping, "just grabbing my notebook."
Suddenly she must realize she's only half-clothed with sweatpants pulled over a wet one-piece bathing suit and she gathers a towel in front of her chest.
Sadness must flash in his eyes – and he is sad because Carter's never exactly been overly modest and he's not sure if it's because of what she's been through or because of that under-pressure/under-duress kiss they shared at the festival – because suddenly there is fire in hers.
"Stop," she hisses. "Just stop it."
He's shocked by her outburst. "What?"
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" He probably sounds like an idiot, but he's flummoxed.
"Like I'm…"
Half-naked, the infuriating part of his brain supplies. But he's pretty sure he wasn't looking at her lecherously.
"Like you're what, Carter?"
"Like you…"
He takes a step toward her but stops when she takes a giant step back. He raises his hands in supplication. "Like I what?"
"Just don't look at me."
"Carter—"
"Don't see me like that. Don't see me like that anymore."
"Like what? Like you were when we found you?" He takes a deep breath and spits out his thoughts before he can sensor them and possibly make this worse than it already is. "Because that was the single most reassuring sight of my life. Carter, I thought we were going to collect a body and there you were. Alive. I'm never going to apologize for seeing you alive."
"You're still looking at me like I'm…"
"Alive?"
"No!" She breathes heavily for a moment. "No."
"Then how do I look at you?"
"Like there's something wrong with me."
"Carter—" he hedges and grasps the back of his neck. He looks down at the floor and when he looks back up, there's a hint of smile around her eyes.
"Okay, so maybe there's still something wrong with me."
"I'm not looking at you any differently."
"You are," she asserts.
"You know what I see when I look at you?"
"You see her."
And he just knows she's talking about the woman he pulled out of shackles in a goa'uld prison. "Yeah, I see her a little. Because she's you. For better or for worse, Carter, that's part of your story now."
"Well, would just stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me?"
He just shakes his head. "No can do."
Apparently she didn't expect him not to acquiesce because she just gapes.
"I am sorry for the fact that now you know what all that is actually like. I'd have traded places with you without hesitation."
He can see she knows that's true.
"But I don't pity you, Carter."
"It's the same thing."
"It's not. No one could ever pity someone as strong as you. You survived."
"I'm not sure about that yet."
"I am."