A/N: We are getting a hellacious wind storm today, so I'm posting just in case our power goes out.

TW for nightmare/flashback and one mention of Iraq.

Chapter 23

Hands painfully grabbed and pinned her down until metal bands encircled her wrists and upper arms. Her knees bent, legs anchored into stirrups and forcibly spread until she was open, unprotected from probing, gloved hands.

"No!" She screamed at them, fighting with everything in her. She'd just watched them hurt Jack, forcing him to give against his will.

She watched helplessly as they loaded the metal tube, bringing it closer.

"Sir!" She begged, knowing he was powerless to stop what was about to happen. "No!" She screamed at them as they came closer. "Sir, god please," her voice broke as she saw the moment Jack realized what they were going to do to her.

The feel of cold metal against her most sensitive flesh.

"Jack!" She screamed for him, not wanting to go through this alone. Finding his gaze, her eyes locked onto his as she was invaded. Metal pressed deeper until tears streaked her face.

"I'm here, Sam," Jack said, his voice breaking as he refused to look away, staying with her as she was violated.

"Jack!" Sam shouted, as she surged upright into a sitting position, the dream still vibrant in her mind.

"I'm here, Sam," Jack said beside her, just inches away, not yet daring to touch her. He'd awakened the first time she shouted his name, knowing immediately what nightmare she was trapped in.

It wasn't a surprise, given all that had happened over the past few days. Neither of them had had time to process. Going to bed without speaking more than a few words hadn't helped, but he'd been at a loss for what to say. Sam had been distant, unwilling to share her emotions, and he'd thought it best to give her space on this first night. Now, he wasn't so sure that had been the right decision.

"Sir?" She blinked at him, the last vestiges of the dream finally fading.

"I'm here. It was just a dream. You're safe," he told her gently.

"Oh god," she gulped in several breaths. "It really happened. They—they—oh god."

"I know," he reached for her, drawing her into his chest, easing them both back down onto the mattress. "Shhh," he soothed as sobs wracked her body, each one destroying him.

He'd let her down. Failed her in the worst possible way. Failed to protect her. Failed the woman he loved.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath. No sense in trying to deny it any longer, not that admitting the truth to himself would do any good. He'd worry about that later, because right now, at this very moment, Sam needed him to keep it together.

"I've got you," he rubbed her back, hoping to provide some comfort, "they can't hurt you here." He continued whispering soothing words as he slowly tried to ease the tenseness in her. Eventually, her breathing evened and her body fully relaxed against him.

Clutching her tightly to his side, Jack worked to steady his breathing, fighting to contain his own memory of that day. His mind swirled, spiraling at what had been done to him and how it threatened to bring forth even more heinous memories from his time in an Iraqi prison.

Sam shifted, pulling herself tighter into his side. Her breath against his skin was like a lifeline. Focusing on how it felt, how she felt in his arms, he slowly beat back the demons, locking them away deep in the recesses of his mind.

"You're safe," he murmured against the top of Sam's head, sleep gently pulling him under. "I'll keep you both safe."

Sam stretched, her body feeling somewhat rested for the first time in days. She arched her back, enjoying the feeling of her muscles expanding. The gentle overextension was magnificent, making her let out a little whimper of pleasure.

"Good morning," Jack's voice made her finally open her eyes. She blinked against the sunlight and smiled, making a mental note to figure out how the sun seemed to set and rise in their localized field even though it should be impossible.

Pressing onto her elbows, she saw him standing in their small, makeshift kitchen. He was putting together breakfast consisting of nuts and berries with something that tasted an awful lot like honey.

She climbed out of bed and padded barefoot over to the small table. Once again, they'd slept in their clothes, both seeming to use that as a buffer to the fact that this was a long-term situation. At least that was what Sam thought it was about. Jack could have just been following her lead. If so, she'd given him a ton of mixed signals.

"I'm sorry about last night, sir," Sam said as she sat down. She wanted to apologize more, but chickened out, fearful of what he might say if she pointed out the elephant in the room by bringing up the longevity of their situation.

"For what?" Jack looked at her funny as he brought their bowls to the table and sat down.

"My nightmare. My lack of communication," she explained hesitantly, realizing she wasn't exactly the most pleasant person yesterday. "Everything."

"You were processing, Carter," Jack shrugged. "It happens."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, knowing he was letting her off too easily. Jack was obviously trying to make the best out of a bad situation, the least she could do was the same.

"Lya stocked the," he paused looking for the right word, "pantry…I guess." He shrugged and popped some nuts into his mouth. "We've got what looks like flour, sugar, salt, and a few other things."

"I didn't even know the Nox used any of those," Sam replied, genuinely surprised.

"Maybe they don't. Looks like there's an old-fashioned oven over there, too," he pointed toward the far corner of the room. "One that uses fire and wood instead of electricity. I definitely don't remember seeing that the last time we were here."

"Dad used to cook everything over a campfire," Sam smiled at the memory. "I got pretty good at making campfire biscuits. I bet I can whip us up some," she offered.

"Wait a second," Jack eyed her suspiciously. "We've served together for almost a decade and I'm just now finding out you can actually cook?"

Sam laughed out loud and grinned. "Campfire biscuits do not count as cooking," she countered.

"Yah, but all these years I could have been having Carter's biscuits when I've been stuck eating Danny's oatmeal," he scoffed good naturedly.

"Daniel makes a mean cinnamon raisin oatmeal, sir," she teased before licking some honey-like substance from her fingers.

The innocent action caught Jack's attention as his body reacted. He watched as Sam's tongue darted out, catching the sweet liquid on its tip. She hummed in pleasure, the sound going straight to his groin. Jack willed his body to calm down, knowing that her innocent move would be repeated again in the future, so he better start re-learning to control himself in these close quarters.

"Er, um, I brought in some water from the stream outside," he practically stammered, picking up his bowl and crossing to the small water basin. He poured some over the dish to rinse it off. "Stacked some wood as well."

"How long did I sleep?" Sam asked, completely oblivious to her effect on Jack. Instead, a sense of uselessness descended. He'd been busy prepping their space while she'd been sleeping.

"Just a few hours more than me," he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, sir," she sighed, wanting to be able to pull her own weight.

"Don't be, Carter," he turned toward her, "you're literally growing another human being. That takes a lot of energy."

And just like that, Sam's jovial mood was broken as the reality of their situation came crashing down around her. Jack wasn't here because he wanted to be. This wasn't some long-awaited vacation. No, he was here simply because he had no other choice.

"What did I say," Jack asked, immediately sensing the abrupt change in her. He replayed his words, wondering why the reminder of their child would make her so sad.

"Nothing," she waved him off and reined in her reaction. She refused to allow her mood swings to affect him. He was already sacrificing enough, he shouldn't have to deal with her erratic hormones, too.

"It isn't nothing," Jack countered. When she shook her head, he tried a different tactic. "Look, it's just going to be you and me for quite a while. You've got to tell me if I do or say anything that crosses a line."

"You didn't," she forced the ever-present guilt aside.

"Then what?"

"I just… need some time," Sam said, praying he wouldn't push any harder. "Time to process all of this," she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Please, sir," she added when he didn't look convinced.

"Alright," Jack reluctantly agreed, not liking the feeling of Sam erecting walls between them.

"You said there was a stream?" Sam asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"A steam and a small pond," Jack replied, following her lead despite his gut screaming he was making a mistake. "It almost reminds me of my cabin."

"Show me," she implored, desperate to direct them back to solid ground. She breathed a sigh of relief when Jack's face relaxed into acceptance, and he motioned for her to follow him outside.