Warnings: None

Banshee took the long way back to base. The loss of the three helo's to Zhen meant it would have taken longer for Manhattan's carriers to ferry Manhattan to the Shatterdome and then come back for Banshee than it would for them to just make the trek back themselves. When they first set out, Jack hadn't worried. The seas were relatively calm, and though Bella was damaged, they were mobile.

Soon, though, it became apparent that not everything was as well as he thought. The long slog through the waves was laborious. Banshee's left leg seemed to lose functionality as they pushed further along the coast, eventually reducing them to a slow limp. Then, slowly, Sam's breathing grew labored. Jack didn't notice until she was almost gasping.

"Whoa," he called, drawing to a stop. Sam didn't protest, instead bending slightly in her harness to catch her breath. "Talk to me, Sam. What's wrong?"

She lifted her head, hiding a grimace. "It's nothing. Just… need a breather."

Jack readily agreed to a break, but the grey pallor of her skin under the light of her helmet hinted she wasn't being entirely truthful with him. She favored her left side, the same side that had taken the brunt of Zhen's teeth when it chomped through the hull. He tried to find the source of her pain through the drift, but their previous clarity was now muddled, hidden. "Sam… don't shut me out, okay? If you're injured, I need to know."

Her eyes clenched shut. "Maybe some cracked ribs," she allowed. "It's okay."

"We can wait for a pick up-"

"No! No, it's fine. I can push through until we get back to base." To prove it, she straightened, moving forward even before he could reactivate his own console. "Let's get moving."

Jack sighed, but didn't push. "Okay."

For a bit, Sam seemed to do okay. But as they neared the last few miles, her breathing grew labored again. Jack kept his mouth shut, but couldn't any longer when he felt her stumble. "All right, stop! Let's just…" Her pants were moans now. He looked over in a panic, and saw her face creased with pain, all pretense gone. "Sam?"

"My- My left leg is numb." Her voice was hoarse. She hissed a second later, and her control slipped. A shaft of blinding pain arced down Jack's side, and echo of her own agony. He yelped in surprise, and a second later it was gone, sucked back into Sam's conscious.

"That's not numb. And it's not a busted rib," he accused.

"I think my suit-" she paused for breath, "think my suit shorted out." Jack immediately craned his head to try and get a look at the outside of her drivesuit for evidence of damage, but he didn't have the angle, and Sam was in no condition to contort in order to provide him one.

Jack wordlessly keyed up a channel to LOCCENT. "Control, this is Banshee. Come in."

There was a crackle, then a pop as Tendo switched his mic on. "We read you, go ahead."

"We think Sam's drivesuit took some damage. We're going to need medical waiting as soon as we dock."

A pause followed. "Understood. Doctor Frasier is on standby. Manhattan's convoy just refueled. Do you require a pick up?"

Jack glanced at Sam for confirmation, but her head was bowed, her breaths heavy. Jack keyed open the comm.

"Wait," Carter gasped. Jack clicked off, and met her gaze once more. Her eyes were creased with pain, but clear. "I can make it."

"Sam…"

"If we ask for a pick up, I'll be medevacked first. I'm not going to be flown back on a stretcher."

Jack shook his head. "I understand where you're coming from, I really do, but…"

"The world is looking at us, Jack." The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of energy through him. "If we're evacked they're going to know something is wrong, and that will be the story they tell tonight." She paused to catch her breath. "We need the win."

Jack took a measured breath, long and steady. Sam wasn't okay, and as her partner his instinct was to put her needs before his own. But what could he do when she placed the needs of the country above all? "Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Jack considered his options, then finally gave a nod of his own. Sam opened the channel to LOCCENT. "We're going to keep moving, LOCCENT. We should reach the Shatterdome in the next 15 minutes."

"Understood. Pilots will remain prepped if you change your mind."

It took closer to thirty minutes for the Shatterdome to come into view, and by that time Sam operated under sheer will power. Jack fell into the role of navigator- Sam's eyes remained clenched shut as she struggled to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Jack's heart raced as he felt the familiar drag of resistance- not incompatibility, he assured himself, just exhaustion. Sam could barely walk. When they stepped onto the crawler that was waiting for them, she collapsed in her harness. Every breath tore jaggedly through their neural bridge, punctuated by soft whimpers through clenched teeth.

When they were fully docked, the hatch opened almost immediately. "Do NOT disengage," Frasier ordered sternly as soon as she stepped inside. Jack froze, before realizing she meant Carter, who was weakly reaching for the keypad to do just that. Frasier's team filed in behind their boss with a readied stretcher, and wheeled the bed into place. "Sam, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," came the breathless affirmation.

"What hurts?"

"Side." Sam's right arm was clamped across her middle, bracing the afflicted side. "Leg went numb about an hour ago."

Janet reached up to flash a penlight in Carter's eyes, making her flinch after so long in the shadowy interior of Banshee's connpod. "Same side?" Sam nodded. Janet pocketed her penlight and stepped back. "Okay, Sam, we're going to release you right onto the gurney, all right? Just relax, and let us do the work."

Jack stepped away from his own interface, eager to help, but Janet's glare encouraged him to keep his distance. Sam nodded her understanding, but didn't relax. She tensed as Janet reached for the keypad. After a few keystrokes, the harness tilted back, as though to load her into the life pod, but halted when Sam was horizontal. The stretcher was ratcheted up underneath her; when Janet keyed the harness release, Sam settled onto the mattress with a grunt of pain.

"Janet," she gasped. "The suit…"

"Ranger O'Neill alerted us that it may have shorted out. We'll know for sure when we remove it in the infirmary." Janet paused. "Sam? What's wrong, honey?"

"I- Hurts…"

Janet moved closer to the gurney. "Would lying on your side help?" Sam nodded jerkily. Janet motioned her team into place. "Okay. On my mark- 3, 2, 1, mark." three pairs of hands pulled the sheet under Sam up and over, gently turning Sam on her uninjured side. Almost immediately, Sam's breath grew easier, though the grimace never left her face. "How's that feel?" Janet checked. Sam could only nod. "Let's go," Janet ordered, and the med team moved out.

Jack trotted to keep pace with the gurney, careful to remain in Sam's line of vision, though her eyes mostly remained clenched shut against the pain. "Hey." Sam's eyes opened blearily. Pain and exhaustion had taken their toll. "I'm right here." She nodded, the silent gratitude plain for him to see. "When you feel better, we can discuss the importance of telling your copilot when you're hurt."

Sam's lips quirked into a brief smirk, her eyes rolling as she closed them again. "Yes, mom."

Jack chuckled. She'd be okay. He remained convinced of that until Frasier's team finally peeled away the layers of her drivesuit. The outer armor showed no signs of damage, but when he saw the melted nanowiring of the circuitry layer he muffled a curse. Half a dozen blowouts charred the synthetic fabric, and he suspected that he'd find corresponding wounds in Banshee's hull were Zhen's teeth had punctured the plating. A nurse carefully unzipped the circuitry layer. Gloved fingers began to gently peel it away from Sam's skin, but froze when Sam screamed.

"HEY!" Jack bellowed, taking a menacing step towards the nurse, who dropped the circuitry suit instantly. "Be careful!"

"Ranger O'Neill!" Frasier barked right back, placing herself between him and the gurney. She regarded him for a short moment, then pointed towards the door. "Out."

"What?!" Jack shook his head. "No. No way-"

"That was an order, Ranger."

"She's my copilot!"

Janet didn't move an inch. "And my patient. I will not have you hampering her treatment. Not to mention you need to undergo your own evaluation as well. I wouldn't be surprised if you had an injury or two lurking in there as well after that fall."

"But-"

"Go," the doctor asserted. "Or I will have you removed." Jack took a single step back. She couldn't think he would actually hurt Sam… Dr. Frasier softened a moment later. "Once I have fully evaluated Sam's condition I will personally inform you of her condition, with her permission. Until then, I want you to get evaluated yourself, then stay there to get some rest. Is that understood?"

Jack swallowed. "Yes, ma'am." Still he paused. "Can I let her know…?"

"She's already unconscious," she told him bluntly. When he paled, she lifted a hand a reassurance. "It's a blessing in this case, I promise you. Please, Ranger. Let us give her the care she needs."

Jack nodded, then left with one last look at his partner's back as an orderly guided him out. His own evaluation- while more intensive than usual- took only half an hour, by which point there had been no update from Frasier. Jack thought he'd be shooed away as soon as his physical was complete, but true to the doctor's word, he received a set of scrubs and a bed to sleep on. He scoffed at the idea: he couldn't possibly sleep when Sam was in trouble. Contrary to his intentions, however, Frasier shook him awake some time later.

"How is she?" he asked immediately.

"Sam's going to be fine," Janet assured him. She picked up on his skepticism. "When her circuitry layer shorted, it generated extreme heat that fused the fabric of the suit to her skin. That's why she reacted like she did when April tried to remove the layer."

"H-How? The suits are supposed to be insulated so that doesn't happen!"

Janet nodded. "In a way, they did their job. The suit drew away the electrical current, so the small blessing is that she wasn't electrocuted. But I agree that such a short is unusual. I've already surrendered the suit to Marshal Pentecost for further investigation. Hopefully we'll know more soon."

Her tone darkened at the prospect of tampering, sparking a deep suspicion in Jack. If sabotage was a possibility, only one person on base hated Sam enough to tamper with her drivesuit. Doctor Frasier continued. "The numbness in her left leg was the result of some swelling around her sciatic nerve. It should resolve itself in the next few days, but we're keeping her at least overnight for observation."

Jack nodded. "Can I stay with her? I promise I won't get in the way."

"Give us a few more minutes to get her settled and sedated first," Frasier acquiesced. "Removing the suit was a difficult process. I'm putting you both on stand down until her burns heal and the swelling goes down. I anticipate a full recovery, but it's likely that she'll have more pain before it gets better."

Jack nodded his understanding. When a nurse came to get him some time later, he was startled by how shaky his own legs were. The trek back to base had been more of a strain than he'd thought. Or maybe this was how most pilots felt after a battle- and a fall from upper atmo. When he was shown into Sam's infirmary room, he found she was already asleep. Propped on her side by a few pillows, her face was slack, proof that the meds in her IV were doing their job. A fold-out chair had been provided for him at the side of her bed, which he settled into with a muffled groan. A second bed sat a few feet away, already made up with crisp sheets. While he had no intent of using it, Jack realized now that they understood what it meant to be a Jaeger pilot. He wouldn't have to fight tooth and nail to keep what he had. Bella… Carter… He was theirs, for as long as they'd have him.