If Jack has to put a word to the presence of Martouf, it's something like "annoying" or much worse, but he knows that mostly isn't fair. It's obvious that Martouf and Lantash mean well and definitely not any intentional harm to Sam, but he still feels an irrational dislike and desperate need to keep her separate from them. He hates himself for this because she's a perfectly capable person who can and does take care of herself, but sometimes the flare of his desire to step in overwhelms him, and he can feel that heat building, burning hot in his chest as he watches her struggle through reliving memories that are sometimes her own and sometimes not. And they're both horrible to watch.

Jolinar's memories are heated whether they're about desire or pain, and considering that the technology at use to help them is designed to focus on these memories and heighten the feelings they provoke, it's way too much for Sam to deal with in conjunction with her own recall of desperation and grief over the death of her mother and god knows what else. Jack flinches when he watches her chest heave or her fists clench.

He can't see what she sees, but he can feel it because her behavior calls back his own trauma responses. There's a certain way she flexes and shudders when it's a Jolinar war memory that isn't natural to Sam, but Jack recognizes it with no problem because she's reacting to things like he does sometimes in the deep dark night. When she starts convulsing and screaming to shut the device off, he knows that's not Sam Carter's memory.

"Do it!" he yells with violence in his voice. He does his best to listen to conversation between Martouf and Sam without interrupting, but when Martouf pushes her after Sam's clear request to stop, that's it for Jack. "Hey, Marty, a word?"

It takes practiced control over every part of his body and personality not to slap the shit out of Martouf and tell him to back off. He steers a hard glance toward the Tok'ra and allows it to grow into a glare with a hint of promised violence. Their conversation goes quickly, but Jack thinks they get the point and he shuffles off to find Sam.

"Hey," he says, sliding down the wall of the ship to join her where she sits on the floor. Her arms are up around her lifted knees, chin resting on top. He reaches out to rest his arm against the back of her shoulders, and she leans in toward him without prompting. He feels warmer. "You okay, Carter?"

"Not really, Sir."

"I told Marty and Lantwhatever to back off for a while. Hope you don't mind."

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "You know what, Sir, I really don't mind."

He nods.

"I don't like seeing her life. It's horrible, even the, um, the nice stuff."

"The 'last night together' stuff?" he asks, making gentle air quotes with his free hand.

She nods, and for the first time her eyes meet his. "Yes, that stuff," she says. She shivers and leans further into him. "I understand why Martouf brought it up, but I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable."

Jack squeezes her shoulder. "That's all you ever have to say, Carter." He rubs his fingers gently up and down the outside of her upper arm. "Is it okay if I tell him to cut it out if it happens again, maybe give him a bit of the ole' tough guy?"

Sam laughs and presses her face into his shoulder. "Sure, Sir," she says, and then her body stills except for her looking up at him and reaching out a hand to clutch his arm. "Will you, please?"

His face softens as he stares down at her wide blue eyes. It occurs to him that she doesn't trust herself right now, and he understands. There must be a lot of blurry lines and wondering what parts of her feelings are hers and what parts of them aren't. "Of course, Carter. I will always have your back."

"I know, Sir."

"And we're gonna get Dad back."

"Yes, Sir."

As they sit in the polite solitude of their half embrace, Jack risks pressing his face into the top of her head and brushing his lips casually against the part in her hair. He doesn't know how they'll pull off a too-hell-and-back rescue operation, but he knows there's not a chance in-well, hell-that he'll accept failure. Whatever that arrogant Tok'ra thinks he knows about Jolinar, he doesn't know shit about Sam Carter, and that's his loss. But it won't be Jacob's.