Author's Note: An interlude now, if you don't mind. This chapter tells the story of how Jack spent his time while Sam was imprisoned.
I'm posting this chapter a little early as I'm going to be out of town on Monday. There may be an update mid-next-week depending on how everything else goes. But just in case, here's your installment.
And lastly, don't look now but this chapter was beta'd (by one of the coolest chicks going). But don't get used to it. She's busy. ;)
Part III: Anger
Jack finds himself parked in Sam's driveway more evenings than not since he left her on Votan and tonight's no different. He doesn't sleep. He's not really eating. He's living off hot showers, black coffee and a blind rage that's going to get him killed or fired one.
After the debrief – and the thrilling tale of SG-1's failed attempt at a rescue – Hammond had sent a MALP through the gate and Jack hadn't even had to ask. When it was blown to smithereens by a staff weapon upon arrival on the other side, however, even Jack had admitted that sending a contingent of personnel through the gate was more stupid than risky.
And as if the oppressive guilt weren't enough, he's got the way Daniel looks at him all the time like Jack just shot his puppy. Or, in reality, like he just left Daniel's best-friend-cum-little-sister in the hands of a First Prime who they knew for absolute certain was using her for things none of them would even begin to abide on Earth.
Yes, on day one, Jack was angry, scared, lost, beaten, but above all motivated. He knew precisely where Sam was and what wouldn't get her back. Then they couldn't use that knowledge. Jack took little comfort in those first days when Teal'c insisted – with setup they had on Votan – that Sam was unlikely to be moved. But now, here on day five, he's already grasping at straws and while knowing Sam's likely precisely where he left her is a small comfort, it's a comfort nonetheless.
He sits in his truck until a shaft of moonlight seems to illuminate her house key where it swings slightly on the key ring that dangles from his ignition. Deciding he's a man who should start looking for signs he uses his key to let himself into her home. He finds it oddly clean – clean in the way things are when they're simply undisturbed. He's not really sure how much time she ever spent at home or what she did when she was here, but it feels like whatever it was it wasn't actually living in her house. Things are placed so specifically as if for decoration – even the reading glasses on the end table next to the couch.
Since it's been too many days since he's seen her, and since it's been so many nights since he slept, and mostly because it's been too long since his hands had a purpose, he finds himself collecting her mail in the dark. Then, a few hours later he finds himself soaking up a bit of quiet in the armchair in the corner. A few hours after that and his cell phone is ringing.
"Jack, where the hell are you?"
"What do you need, Daniel?"
"It's... The MALP, Jack. Today's MALP – it's still transmitting signal."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Gear up."
"General Hammond's already made the order, Jack. We're just waiting on you."
He's already in the truck when he hangs up on Daniel. His first reaction is elation – they're going to go get Sam and bring her home. His second reaction is self-loathing – they're doing it twenty minutes later than they should be doing it because he had to go stroke an emotional bruise. What the hell kind of man is he anyway these days?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
George tries not to show his disappointment and frustration when teams 1, 5 and 13 come back through the gate. Dixon gives a rough shake of his head when he chances a look at George and all the other men's eyes are affixed to the ramp when they hand over their guns.
He sighs heavily before keying the button for the intercom system. "Med evals, gentleman. Debrief in an hour."
Then he holes himself up in his office and tries to remind himself he's a General in the God Damned Air Force and not a grieving man. A commotion in the Gate room draws his attention and he sees Colonel O'Neill losing his shit on a young Lieutenant and watches as that young Lieutenant stands there and takes it like a man, just like O'Neill needs him to. These people are all far too good at being what everyone else needs and far too bad at taking care of themselves. Proof positive, he thinks, illustrated by Samantha Carter's capture in the first place as she was doing far too good a job at protecting her team and too doing damn little to protect herself.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Daniel cringes when he hears Jack's heavy and angry sounding footfalls stop inside the door of his office. He steels himself while his back is still turned to his always surly teammate and then turns around, schooling his expression into some combination of hope and will. "What's up, Jack?"
"Do you have anything?"
Daniel indicates the books scattered around him – most open – and the sheaf of papers in his hand. "Nothing you haven't already been briefed on."
"It's been almost a week since you came up with anything new."
"You think I'm…what? Playing hooky or something, Jack? That I'm wasting time the three or four hours a night I'm sleeping? Or maybe you're objecting to those breaks I take here and there to eat and shower."
"Carter is being tortured right now, Daniel."
"And I'm working as fast as I can." Daniel tries so hard to be angry at Jack – for leaving Sam, for putting so much pressure on him, for just basically being an ass since the first SGC sanctioned rescue attempt had yielded little more than a couple of staff blast injuries for SGC personnel – but he finds all he's really got the gumption for is another round of tears. He squeezes his eyes shut and hopes to keep from falling apart in front of Jack completely. The last time that had happened both men walked away feeling worse than they'd felt beforehand.
Jack turns to go but Daniel feels compelled to…what? Soothe Jack? Defend himself? He's not entirely sure. "I'm working as fast as I can," he repeats but this time with earnest. He just hopes Jack believes him.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Teal'c flattens O'Neill to the mat for the fifth time since they have been sparring. He thinks the younger and still hotheaded man may need the physical reminder of his body's limitations as he seems fairly intent on pushing himself past the point of usefulness. His surly attitude and short tempter have intensified and those things, coupled with the physical manifestation of his anger and frustration, have made for a man most on base avoid and would brand as a loose cannon.
"You should stay down, O'Neill," he advises when O'Neill rolls over with a groan and pushes himself onto his hands and knees.
"Or what? You'll put me back down?" Jack looks over his shoulder and meets Teal'c's eye.
"Yes."
O'Neill rolls his eyes and then does not follow Teal'c's suggestion. So they square off once more. While O'Neill strikes with more force than usual and while the blows he lands are sharp and jarring he is predictable in his unpredictability and Teal'c has no problem knocking him down once more.
"You know, a real friend might throw a bout or two so I could get my head straight." O'Neill throws an arm over his eyes.
"I do not believe that to be true, O'Neill."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Looks like Mister Teal'c got the better of you tonight, Colonel."
Jack just grunts while Janet swabs antibiotic ointment on the cut over his eyebrow and tapes it closed with a butterfly bandage.
"I've patched you up a handful of times over the last few weeks, sir," she notes.
"I'm fine, Janet."
She doesn't say anything but he doesn't like the knowing look she gives him. She hands him a prescription bottle with a few painkillers inside and sends him home. It's not until he's checked the mail, sorted it and twisted a cap off a bottle of beer that he's aware sometime over the course of the last couple of weeks home became Sam's place.
The next day when he checks her mail there's a late notice. He starts ripping through envelopes and makes sense of all the mail that's arrived in her absence. When he sees the reminder notice for the mortgage followed by a much more strongly worded demand letter he knows he's got to do something.
He looks around him at the place that should remind him so much of her but really only serves to remind him she's gone because until her capture he'd probably only been here a couple three times. So he sits down and writes a few checks, makes notes on the payment slips, wipes the thin layer of dust off all the surfaces and mows the yard. After a day of putting her world back in order he feels just a little better – just a little more in control – and he feels a little bit like she's rescue-able now. So he puts on a uniform and heads back to base. Time to get his head back into the game.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It's only three days after he's put Sam's life on Earth back in order when Daniel comes bursting into the conference room with success painted all over his face. He's so excited that he forgets to use words Jack will understand but he gets the gist. Daniel's figured out how to circumvent the security measures that had previously kept the SG teams out of the fortress and out in the open long enough to be vulnerable to attack.
Just a couple hours later they've got a plan and a fifteen-person extraction team ready to cross the galaxy.
Twelve hours later eleven guys return with grim looks on their faces.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Daniel watches as Jack slams dangerously around the locker room. They'd hadn't saved Sam and had lost two members of SG-3 and two members of SG-5 in the process. Daniel tries to speak but Jack whirls around with fire in his eyes.
"How long has she been gone, Daniel? A month! A mother-fucking month! Garrett and Nelson had kids. Bowman was getting married next month."
"What, you think I don't know that? You think I don't care?" When Jack doesn't say anything, when his eyes turn from fire to ice, when his nostrils flare and fists clench and he takes a menacing step in Daniel's direction, it all becomes clear. "Oh my God. You think it's my fault. You think we don't have Sam and that those four men are dead because I screwed up." Daniel rakes a hand through his hair as he waits for familiar feeling of self-loathing to sweep through him. Instead, though, he finds anger licking like flames up from his toes. When the fire reaches his throat he spews it at Jack.
"There was absolutely no way any of us could have known there were that many Jaffa there – in all the previous trips we'd made to the fortress we saw one tenth that number and you know that. The translation was flawless and I know that because of what was missing at the fortress. But most of all, I resent the implication that I'm not intimately aware of how long Sam's been missing – as if I somehow don't care as much as you do. And I'm not indifferent to the lives that were lost today in the pursuit of saving hers. So you can take your sanctimonious attitude and go to hell!"
He's not at all surprised when Jack hits him.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Jack knows it all started to go downhill after that second rescue attempt when they lost four members of the SGC and yet still failed to rescue Sam. Since the disastrous encounter in the locker room Daniel had given him a wide berth. Teal'c has been looking at him askance since he found out what happened. Most everyone else looks at him like he's an explosive device with a countdown timer approaching zero. Hell, Hammond had even put a reprimand in his file. Apparently decking your subordinates was a no-no – even when you had a tenuous grip on reality.
Anymore, he stops at his house only long enough to grab clean clothes and make sure his own finances aren't going to hell in a hand basket. But he continues to sleep on Sam's couch and drink her fancy coffee that just doesn't hit the spot quite like Folgers seems to.
He listens to scary music at an inappropriate volume whenever he's not on base simply because the noise keeps him from thinking too hard. Because when he thinks he thinks about how the next rescue mission is more than likely going to be a recovery mission and how he's pretty sure he's not going to be able to handle that.
Still he keeps her life in such impeccable order no one else outside the SGC would ever suspect there's anything amiss. It makes him feel in control. It also makes him feel a little crazy.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Weeks go by before Hammond authorizes another rescue attempt and this time it's only after an undercover Tok'ra operative gets some intel that there's a new plaything at Votan's fortress of evil entertainment.
The mission is SNAFU from the word go, of course. But they opted against another guerrilla style extraction and decide on a more covert surgical strike. Hammond sidelines Jack as the mission commander, but at this point Jack figures he's lucky Hammond's even letting him go. His temper has become legendary and just about all the team leaders recommend against his involvement. Jack figures it is only the desperate look in his eyes that secures his position on the team.
When they make it inside the fortress with no loss of life, Jack's so stunned he nearly loses the thread of the mission objective. Hell, he was pretty sure this part was never going to happen. Thank god he isn't in charge after all, he supposes. But once they're inside they realize why the Tok'ra operative had kept referring to the place as a labyrinth.
They're overrun after an hour and make a strategic retreat.
They make camp several klicks east of the gate and try again after the next nightfall but this time the Jaffa are awaiting their return. They don't even venture inside.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
By now what little sleep he's getting is fraught with nightmares about finally getting to Sam only to find her half dead, then later fully dead, then later dismembered, and then after that snippets of her funeral and his own downward spiral into a bottle. After that it's random dreams of what might have been. Sometimes he dreams about other close calls that didn't end quite so well. Then he starts dreaming about Charlie again.
He can feel his long tenuous grasp on reality slipping through his fingers like so much sand.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
He thinks he should be embarrassed one night when he saunters out of the shower and finds himself standing in Sam's kitchen with Daniel and Teal'c. He's not – not really. Okay, maybe about only being dressed in a towel.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
He's definitely embarrassed when he answers the door for pizza a few nights later and is face to face with General Hammond.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The next day he's off the mission roster for Sam's rescue. He fractures a bone in his hand when he slugs the metal lockers.
Janet tisks while she wraps him up; she warns him to take care of himself because Sam's going to need him.
She may be right. But maybe not. So he tries not to think about it too much.
He still picks a fight in a bar later but he's careful to not throw any right hooks. The kid's got three inches, thirty pounds and twenty fewer years on him and it feels good when he lays the kid out.
The barkeep calls him a cab rather than the cops but Jack walks home instead and collapses into Sam's bed.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
He awakens in the middle of the night just to stumble into the bathroom and puke his guts out. He's not sure if it's the alcohol or the scent of her that clings to the pillowcases.
But he always was able to hold his liquor.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The next day he changes her sheets, berates himself for being an idiot and vows not to step foot in her bedroom ever again.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
He starts to clean up his act a little after that – in public at least. People still look at him like he's unhinged but they don't look scared of him anymore. Sorry for him, sure, but not scared. He knows he's not acting much like anybody's commanding officer these days – and especially not hers.
He sits at home and climbs the walls while two more rescue missions are conducted. Mission failure. Mission failure.
It's no wonder people are treating him more like a grieving widower than anything else.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It takes him five weeks but Hammond's finally looking at him like he's got two feet firmly on the ground. Nobody has asked if he's still staying at Sam's and he hasn't volunteered the information – but he is. He doesn't venture any further down the hall than the spare bathroom, though. He keeps the place up, he keeps the bills paid, and he shows up for work every morning. If anybody has anything more to ask of him, though, he might lose it.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
And then the Tok'ra operative comes through again. Most of Votan's Jaffa have moved on.
Jack pleads with the General in a way he'd never thought he'd do but somehow Hammond relents and Jack finds himself commanding a mission they're only hoping at this point is rescue and not recovery.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
When they find her she's strung up but he thinks she's breathing and he's got about thirty good minutes before he breaks down. While he contemplates his descent he hears conversation around him.
"Easy, we've got you now," Janet soothes.
"I think there's something wrong with her arms," Daniel says as he crouches down next to her. The way he averts his eyes makes Jack realize Daniel's eye level with Sam's naked breasts. Then he realizes Sam's completely naked.
Nobody else seems to notice, though, so Jack isn't sure whether he should feel chivalrous or lecherous. "She needs fluids," Janet stresses.
"She needs to be down from there," and Jack hopes the edge in his voice reads as urgency rather than a struggle against his inner demons.
"I believe she is conscious," Teal'c prompts and Jack's eyes fly to Sam's in time to see them slam closed.
She's conscious. She's cognizant. He starts repeating it like an inner-mantra as they release her from the shackles that keep her hanging upside down.
"Her pulse is very weak. She needs fluids immediately. We'll need a stretcher." Janet says the last into the walkie-talkie on her shoulder and Jack remembers they've got rear-D up top.
"She going to be okay going through the gate?" He's not sure why he asks. Hell if he's leaving her behind again.
"She'll have to be," Janet responds in a way that makes him feel like an idiot.
"It is unwise to remain here any longer," Teal'c says and Jack follows the big man's line of sight but can't hear whatever it is that piqued the Jaffa's interest.
"Can you hear me?" Janet prompts Sam and inexplicably Sam nods. "Good. We're going to move you now."
Sam passes out when they pick her up and he amazed she held out as long as she did. She looks just this side of death.
But they made it. They got her back.
And now he's got about twenty-eight minutes until he completely loses his shit.
"Let's move out."