AU: When an exploration mission goes way off the left field, Jack and Sam are left to patch up their lives. Will that door stay open?

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of MGM/Amazon. No copyright infringement intended. I am once again taking my favourite two Gaters for a walk in an Alternate Universe. Takes place after 5.05 Red Sky with some canon episodes skipped (overlooked) and others referenced.

Rating: Mature. No triggers in this chapter.

Chapter 21: Meltdown

The same day (late afternoon) - Sam

Staring at the three blue jellos in my fridge – one for each day since I had stopped being able to eat them – the most recent deposited there just this afternoon. Five days since I screamed another man's name at him. Five goddamned days since I grossly overreacted to a nightmare about the mission that they had all been telling me about for over a week. I missed him. His smile, his voice – his real voice – his eyes, his terrible jokes. Mostly his eyes. They were reminiscent of chocolate sauce, or sometimes coffee. When he smiled or laughed, they sparkled. Sometimes, I lost myself in their depths, never wanting to be found.

I knew the jellos were from him because they appeared while I was asleep. I hadn't been able to eat them, and it was all his fault. Ostensibly, I knew that was not accurate since I was there and tangoing right along with him. The jaffa's fault? No, because I could have zatted him instead of using my P-90. Janet for the antibiotics? No, because then I may not have survived. Tears sprung to my eyes at my situation. I hated that my body recoiled every time I thought to eat one. Maybe if I ignored the nausea and just ate one, I would feel better. Jack had gone to the trouble of bringing them after all.

Another nightmare featuring the incorporeal Jack the guys had spoken about wrecked my sleep a few nights ago. I knew it was the incorporeal Jack because he had been driving my dreams, whereas normally I was in the drivers seat urging Jack to do what I wanted him to do. Corporeal Jack... well, he had a mind of his own and a serious kinky streak. I loved it. The next night, he visited again, but this time my dream self went with a different tack. A welcoming one. Eventually the nightmares gave way to more pleasant dreams. Every time I closed my eyes, he was waiting for me. Sometimes they were good, other times they were terrible. Last night, it was me screaming other names at him. Names of women I had learned about when the computer virus had me. I had promised myself I would never tell him that I knew the deep dark secrets he worked to keep buried.

The virus – with its desire to know as much as possible about all of us – had delved into everyone's private information and used it to its advantage. It had known from Jack's private journals kept on his laptop about how he felt about me. It knew about his entire black ops history and what had happened to his son. It forced him to take my life. I felt its anger towards us, its hatred of our people, its sorrow at the loss of its kin, its terror when Jack said he'd send more probes, its unbridled glee over the emotion visible on Jack's face when he shot me. I was already safe in the mainframe after the first shot. I watched through the cameras as it forced him to kill my body. As far as it was concerned, I was alive even if I was stranded without a body to return to. It assumed that with my body all but dead, that they would not realise until it was too late. It wanted Jack to kill me, then it wanted Janet to make it stick. It would have had its revenge.

This afternoon after Daniel and Teal'c left, I closed my eyes and found him waiting in our room within my dreams. Confessions of love, sounds of pleasure from both of us, his arms wrapped around me, his warm breath washing over my neck as we became one with each other. It had been beautiful, and I woke up to the third jello feeling loved and happy, and lonely and sad at the same time.

Staring at the jellos, a sudden fit of rage overcame me. How dare he sneak in here when I was asleep! Pulling off my bandage, I chucked it away followed by my cannula. With it went the saline bag, its mobile unit, and my pillows. Slipping off my bed, I walked as best I could over to the fridge, opened the door and grabbed the first jello, hurling it across the room until it smashed. The rage did not dissipate, so I lobbed the second one, which bounced off an instrument tray spraying blue jello everywhere before the glass dish tumbled to the ground smashing into several pieces. The third, I hurled against the viewing room window leaving a blue glass caked smear, the larger pieces of glass falling to the floor.

I hated him. I loved him. I wanted more. I wanted nothing. Before I knew it, my sheets were off the bed, and mattress flipped over. Two instrument trolleys were on their sides, their contents thrown from one side of the room to the other. The water jug, paper cups, chess board, Uno cards and magazines all went flying, the wheelchair was toppled and kicked, the saline bag picked up and thrown against the viewing room window. When it did not break, I screamed and stomped on it until the seams came apart, sloshing salted water across the floor.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I shrieked as I toppled the fridge and pushed my wheeled table over. "Why!? Jack." I cried and let out a scream of pure frustration coupled with emotional pain. Finally, there was nothing left to throw or push over or destroy, so I dropped to the ground consumed by tears, my whole body shaking from the adrenalin coursing through my system, and scooted backwards to lean against the wall, dropping my head on my knees. Turning my head sideways, I saw his nametag. Reaching out, I snagged it with my fingers and curled my hand around it. Bringing it to my nose, I breathed in hoping for that unique scent, but there was nothing. Even that had abandoned me. Tracing the letters with my finger, I felt my eyes get heavy. I knew I should sleep, but I didn't want to because he would be there and he was not the Jack I wanted. Not that I could sleep since I had just destroyed my room. Why couldn't I control myself. I am Major Doctor Samantha Carter. I was better than this. Stronger than this. I blew up a sun, but I couldn't keep a man. Looking at the tag, I asked the only part of him I had, "Why, Jack?"

"Because he thinks it will help."

Looking up, I saw him... but not him, leaning against the wall beside the blue streak. "Get away from me." I growled. "This is your fault."

"My fault?" His laugh was deep and rumbling, more like Teal'c than Jack. "Samantha. Tsk-tsk." He took a step toward me.

"If it wasn't for you, we never would have..." I couldn't finish my thought.

"Never... not ever." Another step, his eyebrow raised, a knowing smile gracing his perfect mouth. "Oh, I doubt that. It was already only a matter of time." He drawled, low and sexy, almost rumbled rather than spoken. "You want him and he wants you. He wants you so badly, he's staying away in case he falls even harder." Covering the last of the distance, he crouched to my level and ran his hand along my neck, the tingles elicited by his fingers doing funny things to my body. "Not that he could fall any harder than he already has."

"It's you... in my dreams." I whispered as he got closer. It wasn't a question. He smiled as his eyes ran over my scrub-clad body.

"I am him, despite what he says. You dream of him, you find me. He hides me within his mind, but I am there just waiting for his walls to crumble, waiting for his control to slip, and when it does, I will take you. I will make you mine." He said before floating the last inch and kissing me, forcing my mouth open with his tongue. My mind was assaulted with images of us in the ruins doing... oh God! When had that happened? I could not stop the groan bubbling up from the back of my throat when the memory took a step towards reality. I could feel him, hard and fast, fingers gripping my hip and shoulder as he rode me against the rough stone surface. I could hear him, his groans, his cries of passion, the way he said my name. I wanted this man. Any version of him. All of him. The vision abruptly stopped as he pulled away leaving me desolate, my mouth chasing after his warmth and his lips.

"No!" I murmured urgently, leaning back for more, but he was gone as if he were never there. Swallowing harshly, I hugged my legs trying to stop myself from unravelling.

The sound of the door opening and an intake of breath had me looking up. "Oh my... Sam?"

"Over here, Janet." The slow sound of heels clicking told me she was surveying the damage I had caused.

"What… Oh Sam." She said as her hand, dropped to my shoulder.

"What have I done?" I murmured, taking in a deep breath as I sat on the floor by my bed holding back a sob that I did not want to let go. Looking up at my friend, I asked, "What's wrong with me Janet?"

"You were shot in the head, honey. It's going to take time for you to get a handle on your emotions." She advised in her friend rather than doctor voice. "You are getting better."

"Am I?" I wasn't sure about that. Here I was, unable to control basic emotions, talking to invisible beings, daydreaming about screwing my CO while I concealed the fact that I was carrying his baby.

"What kind of question is that Sam? Of course, you are. Ten days ago, you couldn't get two words out without stuttering, now listen to you. A regular chatterbox, and ah, it seems a good throwing arm." She said with a smile that I did not return since I had no reason to smile, only reasons to hate myself.

God, I wished I could remember everything from that damned mission. I heard the mission reports and had private briefings with more information from Daniel and Teal'c. I knew what happened from their points of view, but I had little recollection from my own. Instead, I had vague ideas, thoughts, dreams, nightmares and feelings up until a few minutes ago when I was given a very real living memory of an encounter between Jack and I. Something neither of the other guys knew about. I remembered sunshine and small pink flowers, the flicker of a campfire, running through the long grass, the crunch of rocks under my boots, his smile, his breath in my ear as he moved within me, his passionate confession, the sting of tears in my eyes, and our abrasive conversations. I remembered the assault and the feeling of helplessness, and finally him – the real him – saving me from the incorporeal version of himself. Yet nothing linked them together. I had no concept of the timeline or order of events. I felt I was missing so much, but try as I might, it remained locked up tight. Janet said I had regressed after the nightmare. She couldn't explain why my brain had reacted like that. When Janet produced the Knight from the chess board in my room and asked how it was linked to Cassie. I explained that we played chess on Saturday's. She looked at me like she was expecting a different answer. She then turned it over in her fingers repeatedly as if that made any sense to me. Finally, she had frowned, patted my shoulder and resumed her rounds leaving me none the wiser. Looking up into the concerned face of my friend, I could see her trepidation.

"I drove him away, Janet. He only comes when I sleep. I want to apologise. I want him to bring my jello when I am awake. I want… I don't want to be like this anymore." I whispered, my emotions taking hold and twisting my stomach into a knot. I breathed in and swallowed to dampen the nausea, but it didn't work this time. Turning sideways quickly, I retched and vomited on the floor, bursting into tears as I wiped my mouth with the back of my arm.

"Oh, Sam. You haven't driven him away. He's just…"

"Just what?" I choked out through tears and the bile as Janet rubbed my back.

"Trying to protect you."

"I don't need his protection, Janet. I need his presence. I need him not to run away when I do or say something emotionally charged or down right stupid. Dammit!" I cursed and slapped the floor, the returning sound a wet sounding thwack which pulled a sympathetic look from Janet, though it didn't seem to repulse her. I didn't care, I had too many other thoughts running through my broken brain. I may have asked Daniel to step up to the father role, but honestly, I wanted Jack. I wanted to tell him he was going to be a father. I wanted to see his face when I told him, feel his hands on my stomach, experience the joy of our first ultrasound together, and see him talk to my expanding belly. But that was a pipedream and I knew it.

"Sam, whether you like it or not, Colonel O'Neill is your commanding officer. He can't show partiality towards you regardless of his feelings. He shouldn't even have feelings for you, and you know it!" She admonished in her Air Force Major Doctor voice.

"Of course, I know! Do you think we did it on purpose? Do you think we haven't tried. It's not like I set out to fall in love with him, but I did. God, I didn't even know he felt the same until a year ago." I yelled, hating that she had to remind me that Jack was my boss and that we could never be anything more than colleagues unless I left the SGC.

"Well then, you must be the only one who didn't realise." Janet informed me with a look of disbelief as she grabbed my hand and cleaned it off with a magically produced wet wipe.

"What?"

"Sam, that man has loved you for years. He nearly ripped a hole in the wall of his cell to get to you when the virus had him."

I scoffed, "Janet, that does not count. His brain was muddled just like mine. We barely knew each other." I told her, purposely omitting how close we were to knowing each other intimately that day. I'd nearly had him in the elevator. By the time we made it to the infirmary, his shirt and belt were gone, as was my belt, both buttons undone. We were two zippers and underwear away from claiming each other when one of Janet's nurses sedated me.

"OK, then explain his tears when Jolinar made you flatline?"

"I… I… tears? He cried?" I asked, unable to believe that he had felt something for me for so long.

"Yeah. He tried to hide it, but I've had a lot of experience seeing emotion when a loved one didn't make it. I knew what I was looking at. Not even a big bad black ops Colonel can hide tear tracks."

The sound of the door opening, had us looking up. "Whoa. What happened?" Daniel asked as he cautiously entered the room, dodging toppled furniture, broken glass, and blue jello. Janet stood up and reached out for my now clean hand.

"Doctor Jackson. Sam had a little episode." Janet replied in her clinical tone as she pulled me gently to my feet.

"I decided to redecorate Daniel." I added with a pained smile.

"You can say that again." He said as he approached the end of my destroyed bed. I saw his eyes fall on my evacuated dinner on the floor. He looked at Janet briefly then back to me. "Do you need help to tidy up?"

"No. I'll call in the orderlies and the clean-up crew for this, I think. Sam, how about we set you up in your quarters?"

"Really?" I asked, unable to believe that she was willing to let me leave the infirmary, especially after this little set back.

"Well, I was going to take your saline out tonight anyway and your head wound is healing nicely, probably because of your Naquadah. So, providing you take it easy. That means no working, no ditching physio, no skipping meals, and no chair racing." She ordered; the last directive brought a smile to her face as my own smile faded when faced with another memory of Jack that I would never experience again. "If you feel unwell, out of control, headachy, dizzy, or short of breath, you come straight back or call medical. Lieutenant Nicolls, Doctor Warner, or myself will check on you twice daily." I tentatively smiled and nodded at her list of requirements. "Besides, I don't want you to destroy another one of my rooms." I couldn't help but smile broader at that comment, though it still felt forced.

"Yes, Ma'am!" I replied with a snapped salute mimicking the Colonel. She laughed and shook her head at my antics. Grabbing the upended wheelchair and righting it, she motioned. "Aww, seriously?" I complained.

"Not negotiable Major. You want out, you sit."

"Fine!" I replied and sat heavily in the chair. Daniel held the door open while Janet pushed the chair out. I immediately smelled Jack's aftershave in the corridor. Swinging my head wildly around from side to side and behind me, I saw him standing at the end of the corridor, hands in his pockets looking at me. Was he on his way to see me? Was he waiting for Daniel to report back to him? Lifting my hand, gave him the two fingered salute and shoot. He smiled and repeated the action before burying his hand once again, then turning and walking away just as we arrived at the elevator. I wanted to call out, ask him to forgive me, beg him to be my friend again. Instead I twisted my hands in my lap and let him go, hoping he would still visit even if I was asleep.