AN: Sam visits Jack in the infirmary. After Solitudes. I know I'm not the only one who heard "You should have called" in the Lost City and thought that it seemed like that had been going on for a while.

"Morning, Carter. You're here early, and wow... you look terrible," Jack called out from his infirmary gurney.

"Thank you, Sir, that's just what every girl wants to hear," Sam answered as she meandered to his bedside.

"Maybe not girls, but I thought scientists were into those objective realities," he teased. "I just meant that you look tired. Trouble sleeping?" In truth, she looked way better than he did, he was sure. He had needed to ask for a sedative to get to sleep, and he was less than tastefully attired in infirmary scrubs.

"Uh, yeah, a little. I kept waking up shivering. Dreaming about being back on the ice." she explained a little shifty-eyed.

"You should have called," he responded with a softness to his tone that she had only heard once or twice when she had eavesdropped on conversations between him and Daniel. "Sit down, Carter," he ordered. She complied, and he noted that she drew her stool up close to the bedside.

"I won't patronize you by assuming this is the first time you've had nightmares about missions gone wrong. Is that fair?" he asked. Every airman, marine, sailor, soldier who saw real action had them at some point. It was just a matter of when, not if.

"That's fair, Sir. Not the first time," she confirmed.

"So, how did you handle them before?" he asked.

"Sleeping pills," she answered. "Didn't work this time." She was fidgeting with the loose cotton threads on the blanket and avoiding eye contact.

"Is there something different this time?" he wondered.

"Well, it's..." she started and faltered on a long exhale. "It's never been my fault before," she answered with a hasty glance at him before turning her attention back to the blanket.

"Your fault? You overpowered the gate and sent us to Antarctica?"

"No, of course not. But I wasn't thinking. I panicked. There were so many things I should have tried to get us home, and I just wasn't thinking. I could have dialed another stargate or at least kept the stargate running to keep us warmer."

"Captain, there is no hindsight. You make the best decision you can with the information you have in the moment, both facts and feelings, and you stand firm. Never apologize for doing the best you can. Hindsight is only useful for next time. Not for last time."

"I should have gotten you home, Sir."

"You did, Carter. I'm home, right now." He was trying to push some reality into her dream induced self-loathing.

"Not in my dreams..." she answered. "In my dreams you're still there, and you're freezing, and you're hurt, and you're... you're dying, and I can't think. There are so many things I could have done differently. And then I left you. I climbed to the top, and I didn't come back down. In my dream, I left you. You needed me, and I just left you."

"You wouldn't do that. I ordered you to leave, and it didn't work," he reminded.

"Yes, Sir, sorry Sir," she responded softly and made eye contact with him. "But I did leave you here," she explained, "last night." Silence stretched on as a nurse came in to check the Colonel's vitals and change out an IV. Sam was feeling a little exposed from what she had shared. She wasn't sure if it was normal to want to be with your superior officer all the time, but she did. It had felt wrong when she got in her car to go home, but she had ignored it, hoping that once she got home, it would feel ok. It hadn't felt ok. She had tossed and turned all night in her warm bed and thought about the warm bed that they didn't have in Antarctica. She thought about how what he thought was his final order to her had been to leave him. It had felt wrong then too, but he had pleaded with her, so she went. She was determined to come back for him, but then he had called to her on the radio. She had heard all hope drained from his voice. He was saying goodbye to her. He was saying goodbye to the world through her. Even now the memory was threatening to make her tear up, and she had to take a deep breath and count it out.

"So, you know I'm not big on listening when I talk to Doc MacKenzie, but there is this thing you've probably heard of called Trauma Bonding." A blush rose to her cheeks and she stiffened. "Sam," he continued and put his hand over hers on the bed. Her long fingers turned over in his and she held on to him. Her hand felt small and warm and smooth in his, and all he could think of was that with the way she was holding on to him, it was a good thing he didn't have a thing for her. He had seen her like this once before when Daniel was presumed dead, but now he was the one she had almost lost.

"It's just a thing that happens to all of us, eventually. Sometimes that comes with some separation anxiety. It doesn't mean you're weak. It just means, we've been through hell together. I understand your stuff, and you understand mine. And it's nice to have someone who understands. That's all. Don't overthink it."

"So, it's not weird if I want to crawl into bed next to you to keep you warm?" she asked in attempt to add some levity to the conversation. Jack's throat suddenly went dry.

"Weird? No. In fact, it sounds downright enjoyable," he answered with a small cough escaping him, and he thought he must be coming down with a cold on top of his broken leg. "But... Why don't you just try staying on base tonight instead?" he suggested.

"That'll be great. When I wake up screaming, everyone on the night shift will get to hear about it," she countered.

"Doc Fraiser also has some really good sedatives, if you need them." he teased with a grin.

"You too, huh?" she grinned.

"Oh yeah, except in my dream, my butt's frozen to the ice. I'm like a turtle on his shell, arms flailing, legs... well, leg flailing. The splinted one doesn't move real good." A genuine giggle escaped her in that moment and he couldn't help the grin that formed on his lips. She stepped away from the proverbial edge and he released her hand.

"And if the screaming gets to be too much for the night shift, just call me. They don't give me any decent food here, but they do give me a phone."

"Sir, please, I don't want to bother you in the middle of the night because I can't deal with my nightmares," she brushed him off while wrapping her arms around herself.

"But you will. Because I'm ordering you to," he told her with raised eyebrows that dared her to defy him again.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because," he answered childishly.

"Because why?" Two could play at this game.

"Because, if you must know, I didn't have such a great night either. I think it might..." he cleared his throat, not sure if the next admission was wise. But if he needed her to be okay with it, he needed to lead by example. "It might help to hear your voice. To know that you're all right. That you're close."

"Oh," she answered, clearly stunned by his honesty. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Thanks." He had her number. If she thought she was helping him, she'd have no problem doing what she needed to for herself. It's not like he was going to abuse the information, but it helped him take care of his team to know how they ticked.

"So, you should call me too then, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he relented. Would he? Maybe. Okay, probably not.

"Colonel?" she started and placed a strong hand around his wrist where it rested on the bed next to him. "I'm really glad you're ok."

"Me too, believe it or not."

"Are we going to be ok?"

"Yes, Captain, we'll be fine. Put me on your speed dial for now, but we'll be ok before you know it."