"It's my fault, you know." Colonel O'Neill fiddles with a decorative rock that usually sits on Natalie's side table. "I mean, they tell you, when some missions go fubar that it's not anyone's fault. Sometimes these things just happen. But this one? This one was my fault."

"Why?"

"Because I know not to trust the festivals or the priests that run them. Because I know nine times out of ten some sex crazed committee is going to want Carter for nefarious purposes. Because I'm supposed to have a sixth sense about these situations. And mostly because anything that starts with Daniel telling me I'd better kiss Carter and kiss her fast is just too damn good to be true."

"Daniel told you to kiss Sam?"

"It's these…see, Carter shows up on a planet, right? And I'm telling you, dollars to donuts, if there's a festival it's going to be some sort of fertility rite and some priest is tying her up or stripping her down because strangers don't just show up on these planets. And, when they do, they don't ever look like Carter, right?"

"Okay."

"So a long time ago we just discovered it was easier to tell them she was hooked up with one of us guys. Usually whichever one was standing closest to her at the moment. But the Votani… this wasn't just any festival. And, as it turns out, it wasn't a fertility thing."

"But Daniel told you to kiss Sam?"

"It should have…Votan would have considered her unclean. He wouldn't have wanted her. Not for himself or for his Jaffa."

"But he took her anyway."

"He did."

"Why?"

"Because, as it happens, kissing her wasn't enough."

"And you didn't know?"

"No, we didn't know. Daniel's usually translating on the fly and there's not any time for second guesses, you know?"

"And this time he translated wrong?"

"Yeah."

"Then what?"

"Then Votan's first prime pulled her out of my arms."

"She was literally taken from you."

"Yeah."

"And so you feel like it's your fault."

"It is."

"An argument could be made that it's Daniel's fault."

"Hey, lady," he asserts, "you try decoding alien languages week after week and see how you do."

Natalie raises her hands in supplication. "I'm not saying I blame Daniel."

"Well, neither do I."

"But you blame yourself? Because they pulled her away from you?"

"Yes."

"And you were supposed to…what? Overpower a contingent of Jaffa warriors?"

"We've done it before."

"So what was different about this time?"

"I don't know, doc."

Natalie's pretty sure he knows precisely what was different about that time, but she decides, for the moment, this is enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sam breathes in the stale air of her lab. She'd forgotten how musty it could get with disuse. She half expected to see a thin layer of dust covering everything considering how long it had been since she'd been inside, but she supposes the others had come in from time to time. She notices things here and there but can't tell if everything is precisely where she'd left it six months before.

Six months. It seems like a lifetime ago. Back when things made sense. When she knew what she'd be doing from one day to the next – even if she wasn't sure which world she might be doing it on. Now she can't say with any sort of certainty that she'll even be waking up the next day. It's not that she's suicidal, really. She just can't seem to trust in implied absolutes anymore.

For instance, she had always been completely, one hundred percent certain that her team would never leave her behind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"How're you feeling today, Sam?"

"About like you'd suspect, I suppose."

Natalie can't help but smile. Sam is very good at attempting to evade questions. She would answer, but not really. And Natalie congratulates herself on finally recognizing the signs in this particular patient. Never mind it was the patient herself who'd admitted to being evasive in the first place. Natalie will take whatever small victories she can.

"Why don't you tell me anyway? You've been off base for the last several days. How was that?"

"It was fine. Teal'c stayed with me."

"And how was that?"

"Teal'c's a great house guest."

Natalie sighs, this is going to be like pulling teeth. She can tell already. Some days Sam is more receptive to the therapy. Today is not one of those days. "What was it like going home?"

"Fine," Sam says slowly as if she can't understand why Natalie is harping on such a non-issue.

"It was the first time you'd been home in about six months, right?"

"Yes."

"What did you do? Sleep? Clean your house? Catch up on TV?"

"I…" Sam starts and then seems to reassess her tactics. "No. My house was clean when I got there."

"It was?" Now, that does surprise Natalie. She expected dust. Live organisms in the fridge. A yard gone to weed and seed. "Had someone kept it up for you?"

"Apparently so."

"Anything else strange at home?"

"My bills were paid."

"Yeah? Can you sign me up for that?"

Sam cracks a smile. "You can't have one without the other, you know?"

Natalie sobers. "Do you think good only comes with bad, Sam?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you got kidnapped and tortured but on the flip side you came home to a clean house and paid bills. Is that the way it works?"

"Sometimes, apparently."

"It's nice when people do things for you, even when you don't know those things are being done. It makes you feel…"

Sam studies Natalie until it becomes apparent Natalie expects her to fill in the blank. "I don't know how that made me feel."

"Well, it was nice of whoever did it."

"I…" Sam trails off again. She fidgets and fiddles.

"Sam?"

"I think it was the colonel."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So what?" Daniel asks around a mouthful of bagel. "I'm not allowed to be alone with her anymore?"

"How good an idea do you think that would be?"

"Jeez, Jack, it's not like I'm trying to make things harder on her."

"I know."

"I love her."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Of course." He pauses. Takes a slug of coffee. "And I really am sorry."

"Damn it, Daniel, we're all sorry. But you don't see me and Teal'c following her around apologizing to her every time we open our mouths."

"Well," he responds hotly, "maybe you should."

"You wanna rethink that?"

Daniel has the good graces to look contrite. "We're never going to be the same again, are we?"

"Stranger things have happened," Jack replies on a shrug.

"Do you think she knows?"

Jack considers all Daniel's thoughts and figures he doesn't really need clarification. "Yeah, Daniel. She knows."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I'm beginning to wonder if I kept you here too long."

"What?" Sam doesn't temper the confusion that laces her voice.

"I can't help but think keeping you here so long is making it tougher for you to be home."

"Being home was fine, Janet."

"Teal'c said you don't really sleep."

"Not sleeping is a hard habit to break."

"Did you…" Janet trails of with a worried look in her eyes.

And then Sam just knows. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"But you know you can talk to me. If you ever needed to talk about it. Right?"

"Janet, I swear to anything out there that might be holy, I'm not really talking to anyone about it."

"Doctor Jordan just wants to help you."

"This isn't something anyone can really help, you know?"

"Because we haven't been there?"

"No!" Sam exclaims. And then she thinks about it a little. Is that what has been holding her back? Does she think her friends can't sympathize because they can't empathize? Maybe. Maybe not. She decides thee-quarters honesty will do for her best friend. "Sometimes I just really want to not be left alone."

Janet looks at her with confusion. Sam figures that fits.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He really tried to keep from arranging it this way, but here he is again – home with Carter. None of the docs want her on her own. She doesn't want anyone around but she can't stand being alone. He doesn't really know how to help her. Hell, he doesn't even really know how to talk to her anymore.

He sits with her on the couch and they stare at a muted television show he knows he couldn't answer a single question about. He's pretty sure she couldn't either.

"Janet wants me to sleep more," she finally volunteers after about forty-five minutes of dead silence.

He swallows deeply and wishes he had the right words. But hell, it's Sam. She knows he's never had the right words. Somehow they'll muddle through. "She could give you something."

Sam just shakes her head.

He understands. "It can take a while. You know, to…uh… trust enough."

"There's no one I trust more than you guys. I couldn't even sleep when Teal'c was here. Not really."

"No one you trust more than us? Sam, that's a sad state of affairs since you don't even trust us much these days."

She looks at him stricken.

"Not that we deserve a whole lot of trust," he mutters.

"I don't know how to not be hurt. And I don't know how to not hurt you guys about this."

"We're big boys, Carter. We can handle it."

"Yes, sir," she says and ducks her head to hide a small smile.

"It's going to take a while," he reiterates. "But I can stay tonight."

She nods. "Okay."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She wanders around her house in the near pitch black. The moon is a little sliver in the sky and she hasn't been able to find the nightlights the colonel apparently unplugged in her absence.

He must be exhausted. She's paced past him several times and he hasn't so much as flinched. She half wants him awake with her and is half glad she's alone. Though at least he doesn't mind the quiet. She hasn't felt much need to fill silence, so she's glad.

But after close to an hour of fighting back licks of terror she decides she doesn't really want to be alone in her dark house. She stops her circuit of the house in front of the couch. Still he lays there – his breaths deep and even. He doesn't move.

So of course he scares the shit out of her when he says, "I'm not sure if I should be encouraged that you've stopped walking or if I should be concerned for my safety." He pops one eye open. "You're not armed are you, Carter?"

"No, sir."

He must hear the tremor in her voice because he pushes himself into a sitting position. She wants him to invite her to sit with him. But she can't ask and he can't read minds and so there they are – staring at one another.

"You okay?"

"I don't know."

"You're safe here."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you really?"

She shrugs.

He takes a deep breath. "Sometimes it was noises. Sometimes it was quiet. Sometimes it was having people around and sometimes it was having no one around. Sometimes I needed to have my sidearm right next to me and sometimes that was a very bad idea."

She considers him carefully and decides he's sharing something important with her. So she sits down in the armchair off to one side of the couch he'd been sleeping on.

"I had Sara, you know? There was someone there who wanted me to be okay. And sometimes that was the absolute wrong thing. But Sam, it's what ultimately saved me."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"You've spent the better part of your life alone. You spent a good part of the time you weren't alone with people who weren't giving you what you needed." He shrugs. "After that sometimes it's hard to accept that there's something other than neglect out there."

"Yes, sir."

"I want you to be okay."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Tell me something about your time in the cell, Sam," Natalie presses. It's been nine weeks since Sam's return and Natalie still only knows the bare bones that were part of the medical and field reports.

"I was always alone. Until I wasn't."

Natalie waits for Sam to volunteer more information but she doesn't. "What was it like when you were alone?"

"Painful."

"And when you weren't?"

"More painful."

Yeah. Natalie bites her lip. "What's it like when you're alone now?"

"I'm never really alone, am I?"

"Fair enough. And how is it when you're not alone?"

"I'm always alone, Natalie."