522 Revelations

He held onto grief so tightly he became stiff and unyielding, and thought unfeeling by others.

Sam Carter was angry at O'Neill for letting Daniel go and furious because he wanted to get on with the job. It was his way of dealing with it. She thought he was ignoring Daniel's passing. To her it also looked as though he were judging her for being emotional and getting too close to a teammate. What she didn't know was O'Neill was a mess. For a woman who was a workaholic why couldn't she see Jack was burying his grief in work.

Sam was also angry with herself for getting too close, for allowing it to hurt. Daniel wasn't military but she was.

This distress over Daniel's death was how the mission started but by the time the usual clusterfuck was over they went out to dinner together. O'Neill was in a good mood, he was sure Daniel was still with them. Carter was trying but he could tell her heart or her head wasn't in it. She didn't talk much and pushed her food around on her plate. She excused herself claiming a headache and left before dessert.

Jack drove Teal's back to the base and needed to talk to Carter. He needed to see what was wrong. Actually he knew exactly what was wrong and there was nothing he could do about it. So what was the use? Still it was Carter.

Sam leaned her head back into the stream of water, allowing the hot water to cascade across her shoulders and down her back. The warmth and pressure relaxing every muscle. A memory from childhood sprung to mind. Her mother was upset - they were moving yet again. She was having coffee with another woman, another airforce wife or an aunt, Sam couldn't remember. She did remember the advice.

"Cry in the shower. You know men don't know what to do if you cry and they certainly don't want to see it."

Her friend was dead and they had been so busy there was no time to mourn him. And the colonel just ignored it. Daniel had been his best friend. Sam felt the tears start. She felt better to let out the pent up emotions of loss and frustration.

Sam was barely out of the shower and into nightclothes when the doorbell rang. Pulling on a robe she opened the door to the Colonel.

He looked surprised and awkward.

"It's late. I'm sorry…"

"Come in...coffee, tea, beer?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

He noticed her red eyes and the red bruise-like mark on her forehead she had previously covered up with makeup.

"What happened? Osiris nailed you?"

She started to brush him off with an "I'm fine" but she was tired of the angry coldness, the distance they put between them since Daniel's death.

"Bit of a headache" She said.

Even knowing he'd answer 'I'm fine' she asked "What about you? You and Teal'c, you both nearly died." Her voice cracked, the thought of losing them too was more than she could bear.

He seemed to dismiss their near brush with death. She knew it wasn't fair but couldn't help herself adding "Do you feel anything at all?"

"If they see that chink in your armor they'll use it - the Goa'uld out there, all our enemies and yeah, even our allies and our supposed country men. You always have to be aware, people will use any advantage to get one over on you. Ba'al, he'll carve you up in front of me or the other way round. You have to be prepared for any eventuality. You can't let it show. I can't let it show. It doesn't mean I don't feel anything."

"What about me? Why can't you let me in? I'm not the enemy, Jack."

She didn't want to add to the distress among them, in truth she didn't have the energy. So she let it go.

Sam's tone softened. "Osiris, she was looking for Daniel. She didn't say why and didn't say anything when I told her. She actually didn't believe me at first. She looked stricken for a moment – it must have been Sarah, I think. The Asgard got me out in time."

"She knows."

"Yeah."

They both knew what it was like to be locked in their body and not be able to respond or react as themselves.

Sam was still upset, upset that Daniel was dead, upset that Jack did not seem to be.

"He chose it." Jack said.

"You stopped my father from healing him."

"Jacob said it might not work and if it did, not completely. Would you have prefered him half alive and suffering?" Voices were beginning to rise.

"No, of course not." Sam said.

He toned it down. There was no use in arguing, there was enough pain to go around. "He wanted to go, to ascend, to follow a different path. He wanted to move on, to quench his insatiable curiosity. You'd deny him that? It was his choice and who are we to force him to stay. " He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.

"No, it's just so damn…" Sam tried to stifle the tears pooling in her eyes. She knew it was selfish to hold on and try to control another life but she missed her friend.

"He's not really dead, Sam," Jack held her as she shook with soundless sobs. "He's just not here. It's what he wanted Sam, It's what he wanted." He held her and tried not to weep himself.

After a few minutes they both got a hold of themselves.

"Would you?" she asked.

"What? Ascend? Me? They wouldn't want me."

They might not want him but she sure did. She couldn't lose him.

He managed to console Sam but failed to be consoled himself. He knew it made no sense but he felt guilty, he felt he failed his friend.

A blinding pain slashed a jagged path through his head. A dull headache had been lurking all day, he thought it was a hangover from being poisoned by the coolant spill. But the violent throbbing pain behind his right eye shot down through his face to his teeth. He felt a wave of nausea and the need to block out all the light and sound. He almost fell into the kitchen breakfast bar as he bent over, his head in his hands. He didn't realize he had moaned.

"Is it a reaction from the coolant? Do we need to get to the infirmary?" Sam asked.

"No." he choked out, "Janet said it was all out of my system, just a headache." His knuckles were white, press against the counter top. He leaned on his elbows, his hands in his hair, his thumbs rubbing his temples.

Sam had been given an extensive briefing by Janet in case this ever happened on mission.

Leaning against the counter top Jack rubbed the back on his neck, straightened, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I should go." The room was too bright and his clothes felt scratchy and uncomfortable, his head throbbing and nausea threatening.

"No. Where are your meds?"

He would have argued but knew the headlight of the other drivers would have blinded him, intensifying the pain in his head.

He dug his hand into his pocket and took out a small case. Sam opened it and took out a tablet encased in foil and film. She had difficulty opening it and resorted to scissors. Sam poured him a glass of water and gave him the tablet. Then she went around the house dousing lights and silencing her phone. O'Neill stood there either rubbing the back of his neck or holding his head. He was trying desperately not to hurl, he needed to keep that tablet down so it could work.

Within ten minutes he felt good enough to walk to the couch and sit, too dizzy and nauseous to lie down. A few minutes after that he began to shiver. Sam pulled down the afghan on the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. He took her cool hand and put it to his temple. His head was hot, his body cold.

Another fifteen minutes later he laid down. Sam untied his boots and he toed them off.

"Do you want to lay down in my bed?" Sam asked.

If he had been feeling anywhere near normal that question would have gotten an interesting comment. He shook his head and regretted it immediately.

"I'll go in a minute." He said.

"No, you will not. Sleep." It was an order, softly spoken but an order nonetheless.

Sam went into her room with O'Neill's truck keys in her hand. She wasn't sure he didn't know, she didn't care. She hadn't thought that Daniel's loss had any effect on him. He internalized the strain and the tension and suffered for it.

As the searing pain and roiling stomach began to abate Jack began to feel drowsy. There was a glimmering light, probably a car going down the street, and a brief touch to his forehead, probably Carter, although he didn't see either. Only after that did he fell relief and a deep sleep found him.

Sam woke the next morning to the sound of the shower and went to investigate.

The hot water was aimed at the back of his neck and flowing down his back. Quite a sight to behold. And too good an opportunity to waste. He turned, he was aware she was there and saw her reflection in the shiny hardware in her spacious shower. She stripped off, he slid the shower door open and she joined him.

"Feeling better?" She asked him as he moved over to share the warm spray.

He just smiled.

"Endorphins will help your recovery." She advised with a smile.

"Ya know, Janet gonna kill me if I slip and injure my knee."

"We could take this someplace horizontal."

"No, this is good."

"Just good?" Sam asked with a smile.

"We have enough hot water?"

"I put in an eighty gallon tank."

It was a good, a very good morning.