Jack's attitude got worse at the days wore on, though Jacob couldn't really blame the man. And, to his credit, he largely tried to stay to himself. Though, Jacob wasn't sure that was the best course of action. He very carefully, though surreptitiously, watched the way Sam seemed to orbit Jack. She spoke to him in hushed tones, saying things he sometimes responded to, but often didn't. He shot her looks, usually blank, sometimes of discontent. Sam looked determined, resolved, sometimes, after a particularly sharp look, dejected.
Jacob didn't like the way Jack was capable of making Sam look, and not just because it spoke of things that shouldn't be but because he didn't like to see Sam hurting. And she was most certainly hurting, even if she was clearly putting on a brave face for her commanding officer.
It was late one night, the others were in bed, but she was sitting next to him in the co-pilot's seat, her face bathed in the low light of the Tel'tak, when he noticed how gaunt her face had become, how tired her eyes were.
"You should get some sleep."
She was quiet for a long moment. "Do you think they physically tortured him?"
"Why?"
"Because he carries himself like his body hurts."
"It's possible," Jacob allows.
"But you don't think it's probable?"
"I think that with the Blood of Sokar at her disposal, physical torture would be a crude method for Astarte."
Sam hummed her apparent agreement. "Do you think it's possible to remember being physically tortured so vividly that you can manifest actual pain?"
"Yes," he said, unequivocally.
Sam shuddered. "Do you think that's what they did to the colonel?"
"Probably among other things."
She nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "He's got some pretty bad things to remember."
"I don't know Jack well," Jacob said slowly, "but I get the impression that he's a man who is strong because he's had to be. He'll be strong through this too. Maybe too strong."
"What does that mean?"
"I know you care about him, Sam."
"Dad, I-" she started to protest.
He cut her off, "There's no use denying it. It's written all over your face. And I'm not going to pretend like it's okay, or that it doesn't seriously complicate matters, but I'm also not going to tell you to stop." He took a breath. "I know how impossible that would be."
He looked back out into the dark of space and studied her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed a little shellshocked by his understanding, as minimal as it was. She didn't say anything, though, his stalwart daughter. She just stared out ahead of her watching space slide by.
"What am I supposed to do, dad?" she finally asked, long after he thought the conversation was over.
"You do everything you can not to break the regs," he said unequivocally.
She nodded slowly. "I thought that's what you'd say."
"You've worked hard to get where you are. I'd hate to see you throw it away."
"Would it really be throwing it away?" she asked quietly.
Jacob figured he wasn't supposed to answer. Besides, who really knew what was between his daughter and Jack? He'd seen something in Jack's eyes but it might not have been anything potentially career ending for Sam. Sam was a beautiful young woman. Smart, strong... maybe what he saw in Jack's eyes was the same sort of passing interest he'd see in any man's eyes. Nothing to worry about. Nothing more than speculation.
"You should get some sleep," Jacob said again.
Sam nodded and pushed herself, tiredly, out of the chair. She touched Jacob's shoulder on her way by and he covered her cool hand with his own for a moment, feeling the way she felt more delicate than he'd have imagined she would, giving him something new to worry about.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Night, dad."
Jacob settled back into his seat. It would be hours before he'd be relieved by Teal'c, but he relished the quiet time on the bridge of the Tel'tak, alone with his thoughts – and Selmak's. It had been a long time since he'd spent so much time with other people. He'd grown accustomed to being on solo missions for the Tok'ra. He'd forgotten how exhausting it could be to be switched 'on' all the time. These short hours, between Sam going to bed and Teal'c getting up so Jacob could get a few hours of rest, were the only quiet time he got. And he found it more and more necessary.
Especially as he found himself worried over Sam. It wasn't just her obvious interest in her commanding officer, it was how personally affected she seemed by what had happened to him. He wondered how much was hold over from Jack's time on Edora. And since being on the Tel'tak, Daniel had filled him in on the details of the undercover mission that had immediately followed. Jacob wasn't sure if Daniel meant to, but the young man had given away quite a lot about Sam's state of mind through all of that. And Jacob didn't like what he'd heard.
All roads led back to Jack. Jacob hoped that Jack was either uninterested or oblivious, even though he knew that either option would, ultimately, hurt Sam. Neither would hurt as badly, though, as the entire thing blowing up in her face and taking her career along with it. He knew that whatever had happened to Jack on that planet that Jack wasn't likely to be looking anywhere for love, so there was that. But love had a way of finding you when you weren't looking for it. And with the way Sam looked at Jack, Jacob was worried that it might actually find him.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
In the bunk room, Sam found herself staring at the ceiling, one arm crooked under her head. She could hear the uneven breaths of the colonel that told her he was awake. Under normal circumstances, she'd talk to him. But the circumstances weren't normal.
The last many days had been difficult. He'd been difficult. Without knowing what he'd been through, exactly, it was easy to find fault with his attitude, his actions. She wanted to talk to him, she wanted to know. But one thing the colonel was was an intensely private man. And she couldn't see him just opening up about his torture, be it physical, psychological or sexual. She shuddered. She'd witnessed his sexual abuse, she'd seen the hollow look in his eyes, knew instinctively that his body was under the possession of whatever substances he'd been given and not his own mind.
She didn't feel anger or betrayal the way she did when she'd realized he'd had a sexual relationship with Laira because it was an entirely different thing. If anything, knowing what had been done to him made her more conscious of her feelings. She felt like she needed to hold herself away from him more than ever. Their easy flirting – the hallmark of their relationship – from before, that she'd wanted to get back to at some point, was going to have to wait even longer, it seemed.
In truth, she wasn't sure how to relate to him at all anymore. He was taciturn and yet surly. Gone was the man who'd make a quick joke.
It was getting harder and harder to take. She felt like she was in a pressure cooker in which the pressure had been building and building – probably since Edora, maybe even before. She hadn't realized how much she'd come to count on him and the easy way he had about him until she'd spent months without him. And now, knowing that the man she knew, the man she'd developed feelings for, might no longer be the man the colonel was, well, it was twisting her up inside.
Finally after twenty long minutes of listening to him breathe and knowing that sleep was going to elude her, she sat up and slid back into her boots. She crept back out of the room, shooting him a glance as she passed by. If she didn't know better, she'd have said he was asleep. But she did know better. She could even see the tension in his jaw.
Unwilling to continue her conversation with her father, she walked on to the place where days before she'd had her private encounter with the colonel – the last time she'd been alone with him. She leaned against the wall in the same place he'd been bracing himself that day because it made her feel connected to him – something she hadn't felt in quite some time. Something she'd always felt before, even if it had felt a little illicit, at times.
She clenched her teeth and blinked rapidly when tears threatened. She wasn't going to cry, not even in relative privacy. She had nothing to cry over. Unless she was crying for the colonel she wasn't going to cry. And he wouldn't appreciate her tears. She could hear the edge in his voice as he told her to buck up on his behalf. No, he'd hold her if the tears were her own. Pull her into a tight embrace, frowned on, but not forbidden. He'd prove his tactile nature and tuck his head into the crook of her neck, breathe in the scent of her, exhale his warm breath onto her skin.
She closed her eyes and pretended like she could feel his body against hers, drew comfort from the memory of his strong arms around her. Then, after indulging for long minutes, she shook herself. She was supposed to be distancing herself from her feelings, not fostering them. She sighed heavily and opened her eyes.
To look right into the eyes of the man himself.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
At first his sleep had been dreamless but as time had worn on, he'd started to see images of the memories and hallucinations from his time in the cell. They weren't nearly as vivid as they'd been under the influence of Sokar's blood, but they were much closer to the surface than any dream had a right to be.
He'd awoken from a particularly realistic iteration of his time in Iraq just about the time Carter had come into the bunk room. She'd gone straight to her bunk and stripped out of her jacket and boots before lying down with a sigh that curled around inside his gut and left him aching to say something to her, but his reserves were empty and he wasn't sure what he could say that wouldn't come out sounding like everything else he'd said lately.
He was punching at her, at all of them, really. He was aware of it, but he couldn't seem to stop it. He didn't want to be the monumental ass that he'd become, but he didn't know how not to be. He was so chewed up inside by what he'd seen inside his own mind, by the horrific things he'd imagined about them, even, that nice, normal even, wasn't on the menu.
For a long time he listened while she fidgeted, the sound of her socked feet rasping against one another was loud in the quiet room. Finally, she got up, slipped back into her boots and slid out of the room. It didn't take him long to decide to follow her. He wasn't sure of his motivation. He didn't really want to talk. Hadn't really wanted to talk since they'd come for him. But there was something about her eyes that made him feel connected, made him feel like there was a thread of the old him that was still out there to grasp on to. So maybe if he could just look her in the eye.
He almost turned towards the bridge but at the last moment had the feeling that she wouldn't have gone looking for her father. That didn't leave many places she could be, really. He checked the crystal room first but didn't find her until he ventured into that little alcove where she'd found him days before. She was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, eyes closed, jaw tightly clenched looking like her world was spinning apart.
He had the sudden urge to touch her. To thread his fingers into her hair. To cradle her head in his hand and wrap his hand around her waist. To touch her. Like he'd never touched her before. Like he wasn't allowed to touch her. The attraction to her wasn't new. The tenderness was. And he had no idea where it was coming from. Especially when he couldn't find any tenderness in his words.
Then she opened her eyes.
Her eyes were bright blue with unshed tears. She looked exhausted. And then, suddenly, guarded and wary. "Did you need something, sir?"
"Can't sleep?" he answered.
She bit her lip and shook her head. She looked like she was steeling herself for an onslaught from him. Well, he may not be feeling magnanimous, but he could at least make it through one conversation without being an asshole, couldn't he? Besides, Daniel was the one that always seemed to try to push him into talking and Daniel was fast asleep, so maybe, with no one around to push his buttons, it would be okay.
"Yeah, me either."
"Janet sent some drugs, if you want them," she offered.
Jack shuddered. "No drugs, thanks."
"Oh. Right."
Her head lolled against the wall and he found himself looking at the strong cut of her jaw, pictured cupping it in his hand.
"So what's on your mind, Carter?"
"Sir?"
"You can't sleep. Why not?"
She shot him an incredulous look and then looked disappointed. "I'm too tired to sleep."
"I don't think my brain is big enough to understand that one."
"Why can't you sleep?" she shot back, with a glint in her eye.
"I have an excuse."
"And I don't?"
He was torn between being pissed and struck dumb. He was the injured party here. But, he had no idea what they'd gone through to get him home. So maybe there was something she'd had to do that was pretty bad. She had killed Astarte, but it wasn't her first kill, and it wasn't likely to be her last.
Apparently she took his silence as his answer because she pushed herself off the wall and started to stalk past him. He reached out and snagged her by the upper arm. She gasped at his touch, he frowned at how thin she felt. "I wasn't implying anything, Carter."
They were close together. He could smell her.
"Weren't you?" She said acerbically, it stung to hear his usually acquiescent Carter use that tone on him.
"I wasn't," he tried for sincere.
She gently extracted her arm from his grip but turned to face him. "We've gotten you back. Three times now. But it hasn't been easy. And I'm tired."
It might have been the most honest thing she'd ever said to him if her tone of voice were to be believed.
They locked eyes for long moments. "I think I should try to go to bed again," she finally said and turned and left him standing in the alcove.
He didn't think she was going to have any better luck sleeping than she'd had before and he thought she was probably trying to get away from him more than anything else. And he wouldn't lie to himself, that stung a little. Especially since he'd been on close to his best behavior. Also, now he was alone again. He'd gotten so used to wishing for it that it felt a little strange to be wanting something different, but if he was being honest with himself, he still wanted her there with him. Even if he did have the rather odd compulsion to be touching her all the time.
He leaned back against the spot where he'd found her and imagined he found the wall warm from her body. It was a small comfort, but it was a comfort nonetheless.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Sam and the colonel didn't have any more late night run ins with one another, and for that Sam was glad. The longer he was trapped on the Tel'tak with the four of them, the shorter his temper got to the point that nearly everything that Daniel said was met with resistance and even Teal'c's suggestions were answered with scathing replies. He wasn't exactly nice to Sam, but he did seem to take it slightly easier on her and she wondered if it had anything to do with that night and the things that were said – and not said – between them.
Besides his mood, his appetite was poor and Sam was concerned about the way his clothes were wearing – they seemed baggier than usual. His face looked gaunt, his eyes hollow. If she had to venture a guess she'd say he was malnourished and dehydrated, though they had plenty of food and water on the ship. She'd witnessed him eating and drinking, but never much and she didn't know if he was keeping it all down or not, it wasn't like she was following him around and it hadn't occurred to her that maybe he wasn't until she'd really, really looked at him.
She was grateful they'd be home within the day. She really wasn't sure she could take any more of the close quarters and she thought the colonel would be best off under the care of Janet and probably Doctor Mackenzie. He wasn't going to love a stint in the infirmary, but Sam had a feeling that was exactly what he was looking at. And a psych eval was definitely in his immediate future, if not some sort of psychological treatment.
Sam sighed and pushed herself out of drawer of crystals she'd been poking around in just for something to do. "Major Carter?"
"Yeah, Teal'c?" She closed the drawer and looked up at the big man.
"We have entered Earth's solar system."
"We're earlier than I thought we'd be."
"I believe your father said we have made good time."
Same chuckled. "That sounds like something he'd say."
"Daniel Jackson and O'Neill are packing their belongings. I thought you would like the opportunity as well."
"Thanks."
He bowed his head with a glimmer of a smile and left her in the crystal room. She hesitated for a moment, not sure she wanted to go into the bunk room where the colonel was. Sure, he'd mostly been nice to her, but things had also felt a bit... off... between them and so she'd been avoiding him a bit, too. But truthfully, after a month on the ship, she was ready to be home.
So, she steeled herself for whatever bad attitude she might find and went to the bunk room. The men were working in silence. It was almost eerie. Daniel rarely did anything silently and he was punching things into his bag as if she'd just missed something between him and the colonel. Sam shot a glance at Teal'c but he wouldn't catch her eye. She chanced a glance at the colonel only to find him watching her intently. She felt herself blushing, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze.
It didn't long to pack, despite a month aboard, and before long, all four members of SG-1 were dropping their bags on the floor on the bridge of the ship and standing around waiting for Jacob to fly them in to home.
Unsurprisingly, General Hammond met them on the tarmac. He was the first to reach out to the colonel. "Colonel O'Neill, it's good to have you home."
"It's good to be home, sir," the colonel said, but his voice lacked its usual bounce and vigor. He merely sounded weary.
General Hammond exchanged a quick glance with Sam. "Good work SG-1. Jacob. We'll debrief on base. Jacob, we'd appreciate it if you could join us."
"Of course."
Sam and her father rode back to the base in a jeep with General Hammond and separate from the colonel, Daniel, and Teal'c, but Sam found it difficult to hold up her end of a conversation and soon, both her father and the General gave up trying to engage her in idle chat.
At the base they all gathered in the briefing room and scattered themselves around the table, the colonel in his usual seat again, and the General's gaze flitted around the table settling for a long moment on the colonel. Sam was suddenly afraid he was going to begin by asking the hard questions about what had happened to the colonel on the planet. But, after an appraising sort of moment, the General turned his attention to Sam. "Major Carter, we'll begin with you."
Sam took a deep breath and began to recount the details of the rescue mission.