Supporting Rumors

by Jackie ONeill Nut

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).

Author's Note: The shows have a guest star ... well I got a guest writer ... two chapters were written and produced by Flatkatsi after pinging the idea to me and I ponged it back - I figured I had deserved to get some good reading from this fic and a chance to get even...

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DEDICATED to Lynette, Diane and Mu, for staying the journey with me, - in life and not just fiction.

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To Flatkatsi, thank you to the best beta a person could ever have, for the patience and latitude you have given me, yet keeping me true. Thank you for the ideas and the hard work you put into the whole thing, without which it would have been impossible and never written.

**********

Supporting Rumors

"Sam," called out Daniel as he skidded to an abrupt halt just inside the laboratory doorway.

Sam looked up from the work she was doing and frowned at him. She waited while he appeared to be trying to catch his breath.

"I just saw the news... Jack's been shot!"

Her face blanched white at his words and she grasped the edge of the work bench to steady herself.

"Some nut went berserk with a gun... I don't know how badly he's hurt, but he's alive."

The buzzing in her ears and the sudden narrowing of her vision threatened to overtake her completely until she felt the edge of a stool hit the back of her legs. The command to sit wasn't necessary, but the comforting warmth from his hand on her shoulder helped to steady her.

"When?" she whispered.

"Around three, maybe four hours ago as far as I can tell."

Sam sat stunned, frantically trying to get herself together, as Daniel waited patiently.

**********

Sam took a deep breath and clutched the paper she held more tightly as she knocked on the door.

"Enter," called out the General's voice.

Sam stood to attention before General Landry, waiting until he finished signing off whatever it was on his desk and he looked up.

"Sir, I have an urgent request for leave." Sam kept herself at attention, fixing her glance at a spot just over the general's shoulder.

"Request denied Colonel. You are due to join the Katsi mission at 0800 the day after tomorrow."

Sam stole a deeper breath. "Sir, it's an urgent matter."

Landry replaced his pen on his desk carefully and moved some of the paperwork to his out tray.

"Colonel, unless it's a life or death matter you are not going anywhere until after the Katsi mission is completed."

Sam's face whitened visibly. "It's personal sir, but please ..."

The phone interrupted her words and she bit back the snarl that threatened to emerge.

The general picked up the phone, his eyes firmly fixed on the Colonel.

"Landry.

Yes, I heard. Is there any...

Of course. Yes, the next of kin ... but I thought that there wasn't ..."

The general's eyebrows rose in surprise as he listened. "Yes I do actually, one moment."

The general stood and held the receiver out to Sam. "It's General O'Neill's office ... they want to speak to his wife ..."

**********

Sam sat down, with a loud and heart-felt sigh, on the large couch in the relatives' room, glad to finally be alone. She thought back over the last few hectic hours.

Once General Landry had recovered his surprise at the news of her marriage to Jack, he had smoothed the way for her and seen that she had everything she needed to get to her husband's side as quickly as possible.

However, security at the hospital was being thorough, so much so that she couldn't seem to get beyond it, but just when she was ready for behavior so not becoming an officer, the arrival of General George Hammond got everything sorted and she was given some privacy at last ... the only thing she really wanted however, was to be with Jack.

No one at the SGC had known of her marriage to the General, up until now that was, Sam smiled ruefully as she pictured the grapevine running riot on base right now with the discovery.

**********

The room was quiet, too quiet. Sam fought the urge to check her watch yet again as the minutes dragged by. "For crying out loud!" she complained and resumed pacing the small room. The words that had erupted from her made her smile, the mental picture of Jack uttering them was so strong she almost felt she could reach out and touch him. Two tiny tears trickled unchecked down her cheeks as the vision gave her a gut wrenching smile...

They'd had so little time together ... Sam winced ... maybe they shouldn't have waited. All those years wasted, wanting ... needing - it was just that...

She swiped at the wetness on her cheeks and slumped down on the only seating in the room, a very large overstuffed couch. She sank into the leather and her thoughts drifted on the tide of emotions that were swelling up inside her.

The vivid picture of Jack's face, as he took her hand as he proposed to her, brought a lump to her throat and more wetness trickled on her pale skin. His dark eyes had gazed at her so lovingly, so ... so ... so dang hot, that she just had to say yes ... and he'd swept her into his arms...

**********

Sam jumped to attention as General Hammond entered, swiftly brushing at her cheeks, hoping like hell that the remnants of her makeup weren't giving her panda eyes.

"Sit down, Sam."

Sam gazed fearfully as she heard the General's quiet tone and the use of her first name.

"Sir ...?" Her eyes betrayed her fear.

"He's out of surgery. The surgeon is on his way to see us."

Sam sat back down on the overstuffed couch, the General joining her.

Silently he took one of her hands in his and gave it a comforting squeeze.

**********

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I haven't seen the official reports yet, I came straight here as soon as I heard ..."

"God, all those years of crossing the galaxies and then ..."

"He's still alive."

"They didn't sound too hopeful when they called me ..."

The door opened and they both stiffened. The blonde doctor looked to be in her late 50's, her short hair a little ruffled. She moved closer to them, sitting on the edge of the large coffee table in front of the couch.

"I'm Doctor Hill. Mrs O'Neill?"

Sam nodded, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she waited for the worst.

"Your husband is stable for the time being. He was shot twice and although we have managed to successfully remove one of the bullets and repair the internal bleeding..."

Sam felt the world turning and graying while her stomach churned. The warm hand that encompassed hers squeezed it gently and she managed to focus her attention on the doctor as she continued to speak.

"The second bullet however, is a different matter. It's lodged too close to the spine to risk removing. I hope you understand the priority was to stem the bleeding and stabilize him at this stage, however we will be reviewing the scans we've taken and ..."

"Is he ... is he paralyzed?" whispered Sam.

"Until your husband comes around and we run more tests we can't be one hundred per cent assured of anything Mrs O'Neill, however, from what I have seen of the wound, there is nothing to indicate any damage is permanent. He will certainly be in some pain, but it's far too early to predict exactly what the implications are at this stage."

Sam just nodded. Her mind framing even more questions that her tongue just couldn't ask ... her mind churning the words over and over ... god, he just couldn't be paralyzed ... if there is a god, please don't do this to him...

**********

It seemed an age before she was finally allowed into see Jack. The strength of her emotions at seeing him lying there surprised her ... she'd seen him hurt before ... how was this so different? It was sometime later that it dawned on her that she had at long last thought he was safe, well as safe as anyone living on Earth could be. The irony was not lost on her that someone out there had tried to kill one of the people that had saved their miserable lives on more than one occasion.

The doctors were playing things close to their chest for the moment and although they kept a watchful eye on him, they hadn't yet given her any further information.

General Hammond had left several hours ago now, promising that he would let the SGC know what was happening and that she was in no way to worry about her extended absence. She'd asked him to find out what exactly had happened. The security surrounding her husband was tight and was just a little too much for it to be routine.

**********

Jack came round slowly. His heavy lids barely revealed the color of his eyes and when they did open further, they displayed his confusion.

His breathy whisper of, "Team." was ignored by the staff as they fussed around waiting for the doctor's arrival and his distress at being ignored became only too apparent in the beeps of alarm from the monitors.

Sam had stood back to allow the nurses room to see to him, but the noises from the machines made her step closer. She saw him struggling to speak and bent closer to listen.

"Team?" he pleaded hoarsely, his eyes blinking rapidly in the bright light.

Sam grasped the hand that flailed the air and held it tightly. "S ... Jack, it's okay, I'm here. Everyone is okay." She bit her lip at her almost automatic deference to his rank.

He gave her a weary half smile and his head sank back down as his eyes closed. She'd thought he'd drifted off again, except that his hand gripped hers more tightly.

Ignoring the nurses, she hooked the chair she'd pushed back, with her foot and dragged it closer so that it allowed her to sit down and remain holding on to him.

"Sam," he whispered.

"I'm here," she responded.

"Stay?"

"Always, Jack." The simple plead from him brought a lump to her throat and unshod tears glistened in her eyes.

**********

The nurses had ushered her out despite her protests when Doctor Hill arrived. Jack had soundly succumbed once more to the tug of the drugs, although it still took a heart wrenching moment to unravel his hand from hers.

She paced the corridor, oblivious to the sympathetic glances from the two plain clothes men who were stationed outside his room. She became aware of voices just beyond the double doors to the corridor which provided a `security check point' for any person needing to see the General and she waited for someone to enter.

It was George Hammond who greeted her as the door opened and she moved toward him quickly, relieved to have someone to speak to.

"Sam?" asked the General, the frown on his face immediately demonstrating his concern.

"He woke up a little while ago, the doctor is in with him now," she explained quickly.

George let out a heavy sigh of relief. To say he'd feared the worse when he saw her standing there was a jolt he could well do without. His heart was heavy with concern for the younger man he considered part of his family and since the news of the shooting had reached him, every one of his years had made itself felt and not in a good way.

"You okay sir?" asked Sam.

"I'm fine. How are you holding up? Have you eaten yet today?"

Sam shook her head.

George wasn't sure which question she was responding to, and probably thought it applied to both...

"Come on." He took her arm and gently steered her through the doors, ignoring her protest.

Within a remarkably short period of time she was ensconced in the room she'd been shown to earlier and was sitting down with a coffee and a plate of sandwiches placed in front of her.

George sat wearily beside her and began to pour coffee.

Sam turned to face him, the worry clouding her eyes, a heavy frown marring her face.

"He's in the best of hands here Sam, don't let Doctor Hill's appearance or manner fool you, she's the best."

"I ..." A large tear trickled down her cheeks and she swiped at it, a little embarrassed to be crying in front of a General, yet again. She cleared her throat. "Sorry ..." she grimaced.

"Nothing to be sorry for," said George. "Hey, make the most of it ... I don't pour coffee for just anyone you know."

Sam gaped at him, tears forgotten as she heard the definite rub off of working with her husband for any length of time...

George gave her a smile and a shrug, the twinkling in his eyes showing he knew just what she was thinking. Sam couldn't help the giggle that escaped. She smiled gratefully at the General and took a sip of the coffee he'd poured.

The hot, slightly bitter taste did her good and warmed up what she hadn't realized was cold until just now. She relaxed back into the couch a little more and the General placed a plate on her lap with a sandwich and instructed her to eat. She took a few bites, mainly to try and please him, but her masticating was purely reactive.

The coffee was finished and she had chewed her way part way through another `piece of cardboard' when the doctor entered.

Sam felt the urge to stand to attention, ridiculous she knew, but it felt like that was the only way she might actually stop herself bursting into tears. As she moved her position on the couch, it was the large warm hand that gripped hers comfortingly that stopped her.

The doctor gave them both a brief acknowledging smile and then perched on the edge of the table again, scrubbing a hand through her tousled blond hair in a manner so like the injured General that Sam's heart gave a lurch.

The sandwiches she'd forced down threatened to make an appearance and she swallowed harshly, fighting the nausea that was massing.

**********

Sam sat stunned. She felt such a mix of emotions she wasn't exactly sure what the hell she was thinking. The relief she felt that Jack wasn't paralyzed was almost overwhelming ... the rest of the news however, wasn't that good.

The doctor had left them to digest what she told them and Sam was trying to compose herself enough to return to sit beside her husband. She thrust her trembling hands between her knees, trying to quell the shaking, taking deep breaths through her nose, and desperately trying to calm herself down.

"One step at a time, Sam."

Sam winced at the General's phrasing and seeing her response, he bit back the apology that hovered, instead settling for cupping her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, he'll manage one step at a time ... retired!"

"Sam," reproached George gently.

"You heard what the doctor said. He won't even be fit for a desk job ... I can't see Jack sitting around doing nothing ..."

"He needn't be doing nothing. He can ..."

"Be wrapped up in cotton wool," interrupted Sam bitterly.

**********

Sam sat with her husband. General Hammond had had to take his leave and, for the time being, Sam was grateful. She wanted a chance to take everything in and prepare herself before Jack wakened properly. She didn't want him to see a sniveling mess when he woke, so she had taken time and trouble to tidy herself up, and most importantly, steady herself - at least she thought she had.

**********

The first sense of him rousing was the slight flexing of his fingers against hers. She spoke softly, urging him gently to waken, whilst fumbling for the call button with her other hand.

His eyes flickered open, giving her a peep of the luxurious brown she loved so much, his long lashes fluttering against his too pale skin as he struggled to do her bidding.

She gave him a huge loving smile and was rewarded by the light in his eyes and the tug of his own mouth as he formed a slow grin.

"Worth ... wakin' ..." he breathed huskily.

"About time, flyboy." She beamed down at him. "How long you expect a girl to wait, huh?"

"'Bout eight years?" he croaked. His face lit with the hopeful little boy grin she adored and she leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead. His hand gripped hers more tightly.

"That it?" he pouted, his eyes already threatening to close again.

"For now."

"Cnt ... wa ..." he whispered, his speech slurring already as his eyes flickered shut.

**********

The day passed slowly. Jack spent extremely short periods awake, although he wasn't yet fully cognizant.

Doctor Hill and her team spent more time with him and confirmed again that he hadn't completely lost his mobility. They began to lower the amount of painkillers so that they could make further assessments. As the medication was reduced Jack began to stay awake longer, but the strong drugs kept him drowsy and quiet. Sam spent a long night with him, talking to him softly, his hand firmly ensconced in hers.

General Hammond returned the next morning laden with flowers and cards. He passed on good wishes to a semi conscious Jack, who seemed to find the sight of a three star General laden with flowers funny.

George took the loopy drug filled comments in good part and kept the topic light.

Sam was slightly overwhelmed with the cards that had arrived and thumbed through several, reading out their names. Some she knew, some she didn't, though it appeared that most of the females in the Pentagon wanted him better quickly. There was even a handwritten note from the President himself and she felt quite touched by it.

Jack drifted off again and George beckoned Sam out of the room. Once in the corridor she waited expectantly, but George urged her further along, into the room she had been given for her private use.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, he pulled a wad of papers from his inside jacket pocket.

"I've just got a copy of the investigation into the shooting and the latest updates."

"Oh." Sam wasn't sure what else to say, she stood still, waiting for George to continue.

He skimmed down the papers he was holding. "General O'Neill had apparently just left a meeting and was on his way back to ... the ..."

George stopped, he flicked back a page and then forwards again. "That's strange ... that's ..." He stopped, puzzled.

"What?" asked Sam, her patience more than a little short at the moment.

"It's the where that's got me ..." The General's face suddenly lit with recognition and he snapped his fingers. "It's where Selig ..."

"Who?"

"Selig, Armin Selig the reporter who was ... killed."

Sam had to think for a moment before it dawned on her who on Earth the General was talking about. At the time she'd had a lot on her mind with her father's illness, and the sketchy details of the accident had barely been retained by her. Jack had certainly never enlarged on them, clamming up when it was mentioned at all.

"Coincidence?" asked Sam.

"The investigating officers certainly don't seem to think so. They've reopened the files and are checking through everything."

Sam couldn't help the shiver that ran through her. She was so tired that she felt like she could literally drop. The thought of someone shooting Jack for revenge ... for something that he wasn't to blame...

She took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment. The slight sway in her stance was steadied by the General.

"Did you get any sleep? Have you slept since you got here at all?"

"A little," confessed Sam. The little was the odd doze she fell into at Jack's bedside.

The General firmly guided her to the large couch and then gently pushed her down.

"I am going to sit a while with Jack and I want you to rest."

Sam opened her mouth to protest.

"That's an order Colonel," barked the General gruffly.

"Sir," murmured Sam as her head sank into the cushion. Her eyes were already closing, thoroughly against her will. "Just a little while," she conceded.

She never felt the blanket that the General sought out and laid over her before going to keep his promise.

**********

The rain ran down her face. Her hat had long since been discarded and lay on the grass. The cold from the ground beneath her knees bit into her, but compared to the iciness surrounding her soul it was nothing.

Her heart ached so much she'd thought she would die then and there ... he shouldn't have left her ... no leaving anyone behind ... she needed him ... time - so little time!

**********

- God ... "Jack!" Sam struggled up screaming, fighting against the hands that held her.

"Sam, shush, it's okay."

"Jack," she wailed, the sobs heaving her chest as she fought to emerge from the nightmare that gripped her.

"Oh God ... is he ...?"

"It's okay Sam, Jack's resting. Shushhh, he's okay."

Sam forced her eyes open, her heart thudding painfully as the remnants of sleep began to leave her exhausted body. There was no adrenalin here to keep her going as it did out in the field, only a deep nagging ache that wouldn't cease, an ache that held her insides tightly in a never ending knot of anxiety.

George Hammond gathered her into her arms and held her like one of his own children until the tremors and sobbing had subsided. Eventually he handed her a mass of tissue from the table and sat back whilst she gathered herself together.

"God, I'm sorry Gen ..."

"It's okay. I'm just glad I'm here for you. Is Mark ...?"

Sam shook her head. "I called but ... he's never approved of us ... said Jack was too much like Dad. I don't feel I can handle him right now, so I said everything was okay."

"And it will be."

**********

The last few days had put Sam through the ringer. Jack was unable to sit up unaided and although his mobility was improving, the pain he was in was hard to watch, and he was beginning to ask questions. The barrage of tests the doctor was running was wearing his patience thin - very thin.

The medication couldn't help with the pain and the doctor insisted most of it was down to spinal shock, that and the bullet that remained inside of him.

**********

Her most stalwart supporter, General Hammond, was once again sitting with her. She genuinely didn't know what on Earth she would have done without him. Daniel and Teal'c had called between their missions, but the situation at the SGC at the moment made their coming impossible. Sam was just thankful she hadn't been recalled, though she knew that if the situation warranted it, she would have to respond.

Although she wasn't sure just what the future would bring, Sam was so relieved that Jack was alive it cast the light she needed to continue. The vivid nightmares she'd been having at first were beginning to calm down and her soul wrenching fear of losing him was beginning to lessen.

They were waiting for Jack to come back from another series of scans. This time the doctor would be speaking to both of them, letting Jack, and herself know the full prognosis, something she was physically dreading.

"I never did thank you did I?" she asked George Hammond suddenly breaking the silence.

George gave her a puzzled look.

"For what?"

"For giving him that push," she said with a smile.

George grinned. He'd remembered the panic Jack was in when he was being pushed to accept his current promotion. And panic wasn't too strong a word, no ... to say that he'd ever thought he'd see Jack O'Neill in such a state of indecision was as much an understatement as there could be.

"He dithered so much about what to do that I seriously thought he'd lost his marbles," chuckled George. "I know it took some serious thinking to accept the command of the SGC and then Homeworld ... It didn't dawn on me at first just what was worrying him and it took a couple bottles of scotch to get it out of him."

Sam gave the General a long side on look. "You knew what ..."

George nodded. "Hell, yes, I knew how you felt about each other. It was never a problem for the team though was it? You all did your jobs and he never gave me any reason to act on what I knew his feelings were. The closeness you all had was something that made the team what it was, and," he paused for a second and smiled slightly before continuing, "if it ain't broke why fix it? Anyway, it seemed that moving away from SG-1 and then the SGC wasn't the crux of the matter for him, never was."

Sam blushed slightly.

"And at least I can accept those as valid reasons for his reluctance. You only get to live once Sam ..." George paused again, his eyes twinkling as he took hold of her hand. "Well, most folk anyway, but it's hard to find love and for Jack, it's harder for him to give. I told him to go for it, threatened him in fact."

Sam nodded, her eyes half closing as she remembered the first time Jack had actually asked her out on a date, just after breaking the news that he was transferring. "After rambling on for longer than one of Daniel's briefings, he eventually told me that if he didn't ask me out before he upped sticks then he was doomed to be marooned on a planet with no fishing."

George laughed. "Something like that," he agreed.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure was mine. Hell it was worth the scotch, even if he did pass out after."

**********

Jack was returned to his room. He was a little drowsy from the extra medication they'd given him, although he clearly wasn't happy. Clearly, as in vocally ensuring the staff knew of his displeasure. Not even the sight of Sam could take the steam out of him for the moment.

"Where's the doc?" he growled.

"Doctor Hill is checking the results, General," replied one of the nurses patiently as they settled him into bed.

"Jack, she won't be long," admonished Sam as she settled her chair nearer to the bed and grabbed one of his hands.

Jack struggled to adjust his position and bit down an exclamation of pain as it erupted through him.

Sam held onto his hand tightly until the spasm passed. He was so worked up, even with the drugs, it made the pains worse.

"Try and get some rest," urged one of the nurses.

"You try resting with a rod of fire up your ..."

"Jack!" barked out Sam, quelling the prone General far quicker than the General standing beside her could ever have done.

Jack's face softened as he looked up lovingly at his wife.

Jack's life had made him a hard man, and his service to his country and to the world had toughened him even further, but George knew there was nothing this man wouldn't try and do for Samantha Cart ... O'Neill. In her hands, this man was mush.

George cleared his throat. "Well ... I'd better go and ..."

Sam gave her husband's hand a squeeze and he looked up at the General. "You wanna miss the unveiling George?" His quip hiding what George knew was a very real fear of just what news was waiting for him.

"You call it son, stay or go?"

"Stay," said Jack firmly.

George Hammond snagged another chair and sat to wait with his extended family.

**********

Doctor Hill's eventual appearance stilled Jack and he ceased his monologue of complaints. He gripped Sam's hand tighter and she heard the hitch in his breathing as it stepped up a notch.

Doctor Hill brought a chair to the bedside opposite Sam and George, lining herself up to face her patient.

"General O'Neill." She began to speak, then paused.

Sam squeezed Jack's hand as a warning as he opened his mouth. She could guess only too well what might come out of it. Thankfully he shut it and she turned her attention back to the doctor.

Doctor Hill resumed. "I know you are a plain speaking man General, so I will be blunt. If you have any questions, please ask." She cleared her throat before continuing. "The remaining bullet is not removable without the high probability of causing permanent damage to your spine. Its current position is fairly stable and there is no reason good enough at the moment to risk an operation."

"At the moment?" asked Jack.

"Should the bullet move then it would certainly cause complete paralysis from that point down."

"And movement could be caused by ... what?"

"Any number of things actually, time even."

"Let's get this straight doc, as in a sneeze or cough and I lose?" He swept his hand from his chest down.

The doctor gave him a brief smile. "No, in all likelihood it could be a heavy fall or a motor accident. The chances are that if you're very careful ..."

Jack's face paled even further. "Chances? You don't know for sure? Legs today - gone tomorrow?"

"You are suffering from spinal shock at the moment, General and it is dissipating slowly. The pain will increase unfortunately, but we can start a medication program with you and ..."

"Get it out!" barked Jack.

"General O'Neill, there is no good reason for me to risk your life. The chances of you surviving such an operation, certainly at the moment, are not good."

"So we wait a bit."

"The length of time means scar tissue is building up inside around the bullet and that would increase the chances of you being paralyzed, even if you survived."

"Get the damn thing out now!"

"Jack, please ..." beseeched Sam, holding tightly onto his hand.

"Look I know this is all difficult to accept. You're very lucky to be alive and at least you will have mobility. I'll leave you to talk it over and when you have more questions I'll be ready to answer them when you've had time to take it in."

The doctor wasted no time in leaving them and for a few minutes you could have heard a pin drop in the room.

George looked from Sam's pale face to Jack's. He could already see the shutters being put into place ... he just hoped that he wouldn't shut out his wife.

Sam took a deep breath and leaned in closer still to her husband.

"Jack?" she said softly.

It took a few seconds for Jack to respond to his wife's voice. His eyes lit momentarily on George's, before flicking to Sam.

"It'll be okay, Jack."

"What? Waiting? Don't do waiting." His voice was deceptively soft and George knew from experience that volcano O'Neill was building.

"I know you will have to retire. I'm sorry Jack, but at least we can have a life together."

Jack's face tightened slightly. "Get the doc in here. I want it out. I am not going to sit around waiting for the day when I piss myself and then fall over."

"It might not happen. There's a good chance it will all be okay."

"Oh yeah, sit around doing nothing - hell, even the track to the cabin could cripple me!"

George rose. He knew that everything had to come out, be discussed and dismissed, he was however, uncomfortably aware that Sam was holding back on his account.

"I'm not running out on you. I'm just going to make myself scarce for a short while. You need the space."

Sam nodded, giving the General a tight smile, looking like she might burst into tears at any moment, and the General wavered before stiffening his resolve. Jack, however, found the sheets suddenly very interesting and ignored George's departure.

**********

As the door almost closed behind George he heard Jack's voice ringing out loud and clear.

"You wanna give up your career and take care of a cripple?"

George winced and straightened ... he just hoped that Sam would be ready for the fight of her life!

**********

"Okay ... you have the operation and die on me? As in dead! What then Jack ... I would have you any way I can rather than dead!" yelled back Sam.

"Hell, a couple of years taking care of a cripple would kill what we had!"

Sam stood up glaring at him. "Had? You've got a nerve Jack O'Neill! I married you for better or worse, in sickness and in health!"

"Sickness followed by divorce. I would drive you mad and you'd end up hating me and I would end up ..."

"You are not a cripple. It might never happen ..."

Jack's face pale face whitened further and he gripped at the sheets covering him.

Sam bit back what she had been going to say and grabbed one of his hands.

"Jack?"

His eyes slammed shut and he gritted his teeth in a desperate attempt to stay silent. The beads of sweat on his forehead trickled down his face as it contorted in pain.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," whispered Sam as she frantically buzzed for help.

"Can't even ..." he panted, "argue ..."

He jerked suddenly and cried out as another spasm overtook him and tears from his screwed shut eyes joined the sweat that tracked on his skin.

The nurse that entered quickly injected him. It took several minutes for the sedative to take effect and Sam held onto his hand and he gradually relaxed before opening his eyes to regard her blearily.

"Tell ... get it out."

His voice was barely a whisper, but Sam heard him and as he finally succumbed to the medication, she put her head down and wept.

**********

George left the hospital and made his way back to the Pentagon. He put in a secure call to the President and also one to the SGC. He hoped that someone would be able to help, namely a certain little alien friend, but given that friend was in another galaxy and hadn't been heard from for a while he wasn't hopeful of success.

The President had entirely agreed with him over this. Earth just could not afford to lose another hero, the ultimate hero in the eyes of the President, and George knew that no way would Jack O'Neill sit around quietly waiting for fate to show its hand.

**********

Sam woke from the sleep she'd cried herself into, feeling terrible. Her head and body ached, but they were nothing compared to the ache in her heart. She wanted her husband alive. She didn't care if he couldn't walk, she'd fallen in love with him, his humor, his voice, his eyes, him ... the whole darn package ... Okay, his body too. Darn the sex was good, great even, but it wasn't the be all and end all for her. The feeling she got when he put his arms around her and hugged her close held no comparison to anything else in her life. The way he made her feel so good with just a single look or a smile ... for richer or poorer ... and Jack O'Neill gave her many riches and a love of life she'd never known before.

She gently brushed at his hair, loving the softness of it, her fingers ghosting over his brow. She vowed she'd make him see the sense of it. He just needed to hang on ... it would work, she would not let him go.

**********

His eyes flickered and he frowned mightily, trying to bring the world into focus no doubt.

Sam immediately moved closer. "I'm sorry."

His eyes showed his puzzlement for a moment, then as the memories surfaced, they darkened and focused on her.

He sighed heavily and shifted his weight slightly, trying to feel his legs with his free hand, his expression beginning to show panic.

"It's just pins and needles ... with the spasms - the spinal shock," said Sam quickly, repeating what the doctor had warned her of. "It'll pass, just lie quietly, please."

He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, before dropping his gaze, taking his attention elsewhere.

Sam refused to let the hurt that the cold shoulder he was giving her show and merely tightened her grip on his hand, giving it a loving squeeze as she stood up.

"I'm going to get something to eat and clean up. I'll be back in a little while." Her announcement got no reaction from him and she resolutely bent and kissed his forehead. It took all of her strength to walk from that room. She had to show him she was prepared to fight him on this, to keep going, no matter what.

**********

Sam threw the newspaper she'd been unsuccessfully trying to read, down. She was stalling and it hurt incredibly. She knew she had to give Jack time to adjust to the news, to calm down and get some thinking done, just like she had to. She also knew she had to counter every one of his arguments - no way did she want to risk losing him. If or when the time came that he couldn't walk, then maybe and just maybe, an operation might be worth the risk, but certainly not at the cost of his life.

The newspapers still had remnants of news of the shooting. They had dredged up a little of Jack's history, well, what the Air Force wanted them to know anyway. There was a brief mention of his involvement with the Kinsey assassination attempt a while back and just for a moment she wondered if this was linked in some bizarre way...

She checked the clock on the wall for what must have been the hundredth time and sighed. She'd needed to be doing something - anything.

She grabbed her jacket and purse and with determination made her way through the hospital. It was only as she reached the main entrance that she stalled with her hand on the door and for a moment she wavered. It took a deep breath and a severe talking to from herself to open the door and step into the cool air. The breeze on her face and the fresh air she inhaled helped to blow the webs from her mind and she strode out like a woman on a mission.

**********

George got a call that Sam had left the hospital and for a moment he wondered if he should have organized a personal guard. Although the reports seemed to indicate that it hadn't been a personal attack on Jack, it was too early to be cut and dried just yet. He sighed heavily and resumed his perusal of Jack's paperwork. Everything seemed up to date and there was nothing to indicate Jack was in the middle of anything that could result in an attempt on his life, but George knew that General Jack O'Neill was a master at covering tracks - when he had to.

The fact that Jack was shot down at almost the same place where Armin had been hit by the car was too much of a coincidence for George to dismiss. He had begun to pull in markers, but found that he needn't pull too much. In fact it seemed that Jack had won much more support during his time in Washington DC than he had enemies ... wonders would never cease. The President's continued support and open friendliness to O'Neill had definitely put some folks' noses out of joint in certain circles, but on the whole, it was a great blessing, in particular for the SGC.

He knew what an incredible pain in the ass Jack could be, but he'd never doubted the man's abilities and although his diplomacy skills could make a man's eyes water - strangely enough they worked.

After ghosting through another batch of files, George gave up. He made a call to the officers on the case and arranged to meet them at the hospital. He knew they were chomping at the bit to ask questions, and given the personal situation of the injured man, he'd held them back as long as he could. It was doubtful that Jack could shed any light, but it had to be done.

**********

The two suited men who greeted George at the security point showed their ID's and asked to see General O'Neill straight away. They wasted no time with small talk and although George led the way to the room, he asked if they would wait so he could have a few minutes with the General first. They eventually nodded their agreement, somewhat reluctant to continue to delay the matter.

George's heart went out to the sleeping man. The years washed away from him and he remembered his first sight of Colonel `retired' O'Neill, the gruff hard speaking man who admitted what could have cost him a court marshal and jail sentence to try and save lives, won a hard earned place of respect with George.

George was no stranger to horrors, in fact he'd seen and done an awful lot in his service, but what Jack O'Neill had suffered and achieved, in fact continued to do, made him sometimes a little in awe of the man's huge predilection for quiet heroism, not that he would never, ever, admit that to anyone but himself.

He gently shook Jack and watched as the lost and sleepy expression left the dark eyes and the shutters began to fall into place.

"How are you doing, son?" George pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down.

"Just peachy." The response was abrupt.

"Glad to hear it. Take it you won't be going dancing just yet?" George could do sarcasm as well.

He gave George a fierce scowl, which was let down by the smile his mouth began to grow.

"Nah, didn't polish my shoes."

George smiled and patted his arm gently. "Standards' slipping there, General?"

Jack gave him a nod. "No spit left."

"Son, when you're a General, you get others to spit for you."

"You mean I didn't have to spit on my own shoes all this time!" Jack pulled an indignant face.

George chuckled, and then sobered as he remembered the two officers who were probably gnashing their teeth waiting. He got to the point of the matter.

"I don't remember much at all," responded Jack.

"I know, but they've got to put your report in. Give them whatever you can."

Jack nodded and George showed in the two men and made a brief introduction before moving to take a seat across the room.

One of the officers gave George a pointed look as he settled down, but Jack soon commanded his attention.

"He stays. I left the meeting at 11.45 hours and began to make my way back to the office. I remember getting hit, going down ... then nothing, absolutely nothing."

"Sir, what was the meeting you attended?"

"That would be classified."

"We have clearance." The officer held out his security pass and Jack checked it.

"Nope, not good enough. Look, I wasn't working on anything that anyone should have got their panties in a bunch about. The meeting was a meeting. I didn't see anyone behaving strangely. Yes I was in full uniform. No I didn't speak to anyone as I left the building."

"You left by the side entrance and not the main one. Was there a reason for that? It's a regular meeting you said, Sir, do you normally walk back to your office?"

Jack hesitated.

"Sir?"

"No, I don't."

"Have you walked that way before?"

"No."

"Then can I ask why you did this time?"

"No you may not."

"Sir, we need to ..."

"That's all you're going to get."

"General." The Officer leaned in closer. "With all due respect, we need to know why you didn't leave with the others from the meeting and why you didn't call for your car to pick you up."

Jack looked down. He was stalling, George knew that, but as to why...

"Sir, please answer the question." The second officer spoke for the first time.

Jack mumbled something unintelligible to George, causing the two officers to lean in closer.

"I didn't quite catch that, Sir."

"I wanted to buy something."

"Thank you. Where were you going?"

"Don't know."

"General ..." pushed the second officer.

George knew it was like pulling teeth trying to get something out of Jack when he didn't want to give. He had to admit he was curious, very, as to just what Jack was hiding.

"For crying out loud ..." Jack's voice rose louder.

"Jack," warned George, standing up to move closer, his bulk blocking the door. "Just tell the officers what they want to know."

Jack gave George a dark look and then gazed at the sheets. "I wanted to buy a gift."

"A gift? For whom?"

"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack yelled in exasperation. "Look, I left the meeting and I used the west entrance ..."

George felt the door bump into him as it opened behind him, however he was listening intently to Jack, so he absently moved forward to admit whoever was there.

"... so that I could cut across to the shops. I wanted to get a god-damned present for my wife. Is that enough? I didn't know some crazy bastard was waiting ... for me ... for someone ... anyone! I just wanted to get my wife a present!"

The gasp of surprise behind George made the hair on his neck stand up. Of all the times Sam could have returned this was the worse ... She didn't need this to feel guilty about. George cursed under his breath and turned, but Sam had already left and he moved quickly to follow her.

**********

Sam walked quickly. She knew the area a little from her time when she was at the Pentagon, and of course, since getting married, she'd become quickly reacquainted.

Hailing a cab, she gave the driver the address she wanted and settled back for the short ride to her favorite mall. It wasn't a big mall by anyone's standard, but it held a few memories for her. She and Jack had often strolled through the shops, hand in hand, picking up pieces to personalize the rented house and sometimes just silly things that meant something to both of them.

She found herself gazing into the toy shop window and a smile came to her mouth as a bright yellow yoyo caught her eye.

Within a few minutes she was seated at a nearby coffee shop, feeling ridiculously pleased with her purchase. Early on in their marriage she had felt a little foolish at these quirky little gifts she'd thought he'd like, but the joy he held in each and every one of them soon pushed aside any doubts as to the sanity of purchasing them.

Sam was sipping her coffee whilst fingering the little package in her pocket and paying no mind to anything else when she heard the voice close to her ear.

"How's Jack?"

She choked on her mouthful of coffee and hastily set the cup down on the table, spilling some of the contents. She fumbled for her serviette, only to find it offered to her instead. Grabbing the checkered paper, she clasped it over her mouth to catch the splutters.

Her eyes were wide with shock as she took in the face on the man who settled into the booth beside her.

"M ... Mayborne!" she spluttered.

"In the flesh," he said with a grin.

Sam looked around, but it seemed that no-one was paying them any attention.

"It's okay, you weren't followed."

"What the ... you are not supposed to be here," she hissed, absently mopping up the coffee she had spilled on the table.

"Hey, malls are for everyone to enjoy."

"No. I mean ..." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Earth ... you're not supposed to be on Earth."

"Ah well, I erm, caught a lift back. There were some odds and ends I needed to tie up. How's Jack?"

"What do you know about that? Did you have anything to do with the shooting?" Sam's face whitened and tightened visibly. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, promising him instant death if he had had any part in it.

"Steady on. Talk about spitting daggers ... No, this time it is not my fault. Honestly."

"Honesty ... and what would you know about that?"

"Oh God, now you even sound like Jack." He grinned and turned in his seat a little more as he waved a finger at her and tut tutted. "It's funny how married couples channel ..."

"Maybourne!" growled Sam.

"Okay, I will ask once more - how is Jack?"

Sam took a deep breath and gave him the basics. Maybourne's face paled visibly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Look, I didn't shoot Jack. I wouldn't want to shoot Jack, but I know ..." He checked his watch. "Look, I gotta go now. I've got a meeting set up and it's vital I don't miss it. I'd come see him, but those goons wouldn't let me in. Give him my regards."

Maybourne rose and Sam grabbed his arm. "Hold it. You can't stop there. What the hell is going on?"

"I'll call."

Sam gave him a disbelieving look.

"No, I will. I've got Jack's cell number. I'll be checking up on him, don't you worry."

Maybourne was gone so quickly that Sam wondered if she had actually dreamt his appearance. The cold coffee held no appeal now and she beckoned the waitress for the check. She kept her hand in her pocket, clasping the yoyo firmly, as she made her way back to the hospital.

She wondered just what the hell was going on. Jack had never mentioned Maybourne's return. Maybe he didn't know, but she thought that was unlikely. Her mind was churning and by the time she reached her husband's room she was still deep in thought.

She opened the door and it bumped into something. Jack's voice was loud and clear as she entered.

"... so that I could cut across to the shops. I wanted to get a god-damned present for my wife. Is that enough? I didn't know some crazy bastard was waiting ... for me ... for someone ... anyone! I just wanted to get my wife a present!"

Sam felt sick. She wasn't aware of making a sound and she turned tail and fled from the room. Oh God, it was all her fault...

**********

Sam practically threw herself inside the private room she'd been given, banging the door behind her, but it failed to close and it bounced open again.

She was about to shut it when General Hammond put a hand on it. She released the door and paced across the room, keeping her back to the General.

"I need a few minutes, Sir." Sam kept her gaze pinned to the pastel colored wall. Her voice sounded thick and suspiciously shaky, even to her own ears.

George Hammond gently closed the door behind him as he stepped in. "I know you overheard what Jack just said. Don't go beating yourself up over this. It happened. It was no one's fault. Just lousy timing."

Sam's fingers curled over the wrapped yoyo in her pocket. "I know."

"But?" George stepped closer, putting a hand on her shoulder to turn her around.

Sam allowed him to maneuver her and he felt incredibly inadequate as her bright blue eyes betrayed her utmost misery. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into a fatherly hug and allowed her to vent...

**********

Sam eventually felt calm enough to remove herself from the General's arms. She missed her Dad so much, though at least she had someone ... but what she needed was her husband.

"I seem to be making a habit of this, Sir," she mumbled as she balled the used tissues into the trash can.

"Not a problem, Sam ... I'll put my dry cleaning on Jack's tab."

Sam managed a wan smile at the General's attempt to lighten the situation.

"How did you manage to get that out of him?" she asked. All she'd seen was Hammond's back as she'd opened the door, unaware of who else was in the room.

George filled in the gaps for her. "He doesn't know anything. He's adamant that he didn't plan the detour, didn't discuss it with anyone ... and we can be pretty sure of that at least."

They both knew that Jack O'Neill wouldn't discuss anything remotely personal with anyone but his closest friends ... and even they wouldn't be privy to much of anything. Jack O'Neill was a man who played things close to his chest. When he was being his most vocal, that was usually a sign that he was hiding so much more.

The short time they'd been married, Sam was amazed to be continually finding more facets of her husband than she ever thought possible. The brief glimpses she'd been given of his true personality beforehand, didn't prepare her for the depths and warmth of the man she had so willingly entrusted her love to. There were some lows of course - being apart so much for now was one of them ... but the highs more than made up for them.

"He wants them to remove the bullet."

George nodded. "I expected as much. I had a call put out to some of our allies for assistance, but ..."

"God knows if or when we will get a response." Sam finished the General's words, accepting that a miracle just wasn't going to happen.

**********

General Hammond had made sure that Jack's visitors had left before he permitted Sam back in. He took his leave and stood in the empty corridor, running a hand over his head, wishing for that miracle.

As soon as the official report had deduced that the attack didn't seem to be a personal one against General O'Neill, the bodyguards had been reduced in number, leaving just one stationed outside the double doors.

George shook his head wearily hoping that the assumption wasn't a premature one. Checking his watch, he decided he would call it a night and headed off to his apartment.

**********

Jack was dozing and Sam quietly pulled a chair to the bed, throwing her jacket over its back. She sat down with a heartfelt sigh, preparing herself for God alone knew what.

Sam was loathed to disturb him and waited for him to waken. Eventually his eyes flickered open and they wandered over her face.

"Hey," she murmured, sitting straighter.

He acknowledged her with the barest of nods.

Disappointed, but then she knew that this wasn't going to be easy ... stubborn was her husband's middle name, Sam changed his expression with a single word.

"Maybourne."

His eyes betrayed him for a split second, before the shutters claimed their usual position.

"I saw him today."

Jack jerked upright. A pain filled grimace flashed across his face, before he could clamp it down. "Argh, crap ... what?"

Sam bit her lip. She hadn't wanted to cause Jack pain, and she eased him back against the pillows, urging him to relax.

"Sam ..." He took a hitched agony filled breath and then managed to continue. "You're mistaken."

"No." Sam treated him to her `Don't mess with me' look. "I left the hospital today and he approached me, asking about you."

Sam watched her husband's face closely. Apart from when they made love, she struggled to capture just what was going on inside his mind at times.

"You knew he was back didn't you?"

Jack nodded. "It's imperative that no-one else does though."

"Who knows?"

"On Earth ... me ... Maybourne," he gave a slight smirk, "and now you."

"Not even General Hammond?"

"No. We purposely kept it as close to the blade as we could."

Sam nodded, accepting his explanation. "Can I ask why he's here and does it have anything to do with the attempt on your life?"

Jack shrugged and then winced as the movement caused him discomfort.

"Harry's here to build up evidence against three government officials. No-one else knows he's here. I arranged for him to give a statement anonymously and then the statements are used to get corroborative evidence.

"Okay, I won't ask who, but do they know that you are investigating them?"

"No. Their involvement in ... ahem, certain areas, brought some discrepancies to light. The only link I found to them came from a certain piece of information already in my possession from quite a bit back. However, there wasn't enough evidence to stop them and put them where they belong, it only provided the link."

"And of course this involved Maybourne."

Jack looked slightly abashed. "Yeah, I got the evidence from Harry in the first place. So I got a message out and arranged for him to get a lift here. I didn't want him just walking through the Stargate - that would have brought him just a little too much attention."

Sam gave him a slight grin. "You are a sneaky bastard Jack O'Neill."

"The air these men breathe is very, very thin. They're a danger to Earth and our allies and we have to bring them down."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. She would back her husband just as much as she had backed him as her Colonel and then as her General.

"What if they've tied you into the investigation?"

Jack shook his head. "The fact is that if I died tomorrow, it wouldn't alter a thing ... oh, except Harry might find it a bit of a bother getting a lift back. The investigations are being carried out on incidences that happened, not people, and each one is being handled by a different office and all the chains are set in motion. When we link them to the incidences with the evidence that we already have then we've got them."

Jack's revelation to her had tired him considerably and she was left with her thoughts while he slept ... she was tired, very ... and confused - just who the hell had tried to kill him and why?

**********

The next couple of days saw no real improvement with Jack. He remained quiet and despite Sam's attempts to draw him into conversation he quickly clammed up again.

The doctor had begun to get him involved in therapy and Sam felt her heart breaking every time she saw the agony this left him in afterwards.

Doctor Hill had done several more tests and began a program for pain relief. An IV delivered the medication as the doctor had been made aware in no uncertain terms, by Sam herself, that General O'Neill did not take medication without harassment, to say the least.

She knew he hated the continued use of the painkillers and that they left him reeling.

She used the time to grab some lunch when the therapist came again. Jack was adamant that he would not let her stay and watch and she tried to escape before the first cuss words left her husband's mouth...

"Argh, damn you ..."

**********

Several days of drugs and therapy left Jack simmering like a lot a pot of overcooked stew - he'd tried it her way ... and quite frankly he'd had enough. George had been in and out to see him, along with several other officers he served with, but they'd certainly taken the hint and kept their visits short and sweet - except George that was - damned but the man had a hide thicker than any rhinoceros!

Jack lay back on the bed waiting. He could practically set his watch by Sam's appearances, well he could if he'd had one that was ... his dress watch hadn't been returned to him. Still, at least now they let him have pajamas ... after two sessions of therapy leaving him waving his bare ass around - enough was enough!

Jack's stomach coiled as Sam appeared. He knew what he had to say was going to throw fat on the uneasy truce they'd called between them. He couldn't continue like this.

Even though the drugs had been reduced, they still left him thick headed, and contrary to popular belief, he wouldn't and couldn't live like that ... and the ... no he wouldn't admit that ... he wasn't afraid - it wasn't fear that made his guts churn and left him feeling sick to his stomach when he underwent the therapy. It was cold dread that the bullet might move and each movement he made was not just a physical agony, but a mental one.

If Sam had come in wearing her fixed bright smile, he might, just might have said what he was going to say. Instead her eyes were dull with exhaustion and her expression was wan and tremulous. Jack felt the lowest of the human species at this point. His stomach coiled in anticipation of the hurt he knew she was not only going through now, but what was to come.

He managed eventually to convince her to go and get some proper rest and spend a little time to herself. He knew she only agreed to appease him, not because she needed to.

She leaned over him and dropped a tender kiss onto his forehead as her fingers lovingly stroked his cheek, before dropping to trace his lips. The touch sent tingling warmth through his veins and he badly wanted to take her into his arms and never let her go ... but he stayed still, letting her leave ... watching the door close softly behind her.

The faint trace of her perfume lingered on him and he closed his eyes, steeling his resolve.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the phone beside the bed, but his fingers didn't let him down as he made the call he had to...

**********

Sam hummed as she left the bathroom. She'd slept, showered and felt so much better now, ready and able to face another day. She padded around their house, her touch lingering on her husband's things as she sipped at the freshly brewed coffee she carried.

The sun was shining through the large windows that Jack had insisted were the best thing about the place. She knew he missed his home in Colorado. Although it wasn't far from the base, it had been on the outskirts and gave him the best of both worlds.

They'd managed to spend a little time at the cabin, but the real world had too large a claim on their lives at the moment.

Sam's face clouded as a thought of children flashed through her mind. Children - it looked now as though they wouldn't be able to have ... perhaps if she gave up her career, in a year or two?

Sam gave herself a determined shake and she rinsed the mug in the sink, wiping it carefully before placing it away.

The door bell's chime broke into her thoughts and she hurried to answer it, expecting George Hammond to be on her doorstep...

Close ... but not the General. The fresh faced Lieutenant was in uniform though and he saluted her smartly.

"Colonel Carter."

Sam let him enter and he removed his hat, making an apology for disturbing her at home, before he handed her the envelope he was carrying.

Sam ignored his presence as she tore open the sealed orders.

"Damn!" she spat out as she read.

"Ma'am?"

"It's okay Lieutenant. Dismissed. Thank you."

Sam shut the door behind him and leant against the wood, the paper drifting to the floor as it escaped her trembling fingers.

She knew it was a possibility, but she had hoped it wouldn't be necessary. The order's had come from Landry himself - recalled to active duty at the SGC - straight away.

**********

Sam hurriedly completed her dressing and grabbed her jacket along with her purse and keys. It was the worse possible timing for this to happen and she had to get through to Jack before she left.

**********

Sam felt her heart pounding as she entered her husband's room. It was ridiculous to feel so nervous, but God alone knew how long she would be gone. Hopefully it wouldn't be more than a few days, perhaps a quick mission? Ruefully she acknowledged that they weren't usually that lucky...

Sam's throat dried as she approached the sleeping figure. As she stood looking down at him, undecided whether to wake him or not, his eyes opened and he gave her a sleepy smile before the vestiges of sleep left him and his face carefully returned to a neutral expression.

"What?" he asked, clearly a little nonplused by her continued silence.

Sam cleared her throat, still not taking a seat, though she stilled the urge to pace.

"I've been recalled to the SGC." She said it quickly and quietly. She didn't know what to expect next, though his calm acceptance grated on her nerves.

"When do you leave?"

It hurt, terribly. His dark eyes waited, cool and calm.

"Uh, today ..."

"You'd better get your gear packed then. Do you want me to order a car to take you to Andrews?"

She couldn't believe he was being so cold with her. It was less than she expected from any officer and certainly less than a team mate and coming from her husband, it was...

Sam took an involuntary step back from the bed. She'd seen him in action ... watched him take necessary steps, cold and calculatingly, to protect his team, the Earth ... but here and now he was her husband and suddenly it seemed as though she didn't know him at all.

"I ... it may only be a few days ..." she stammered.

The dark eyes flickered to hers, before scanning around the room.

"Or not."

Sam looked up, pleading silently for someone, anyone to help her. Deep breath, count ... it was then she saw it.

She couldn't help it - she exploded "You bastard! You engineered these orders didn't you?" She pointed to the sign above his bed - the symbol indicating nil by mouth...

Jack wouldn't look her in the eyes.

Sam lost the power of speech for a moment. He'd not only seemingly booked himself for the operation, but he'd manipulated her recall to the SGC.

"Tell me I'm wrong?" she pleaded, stepping nearer to the bed, trying to snatch up one of his hands.

He wrenched it away from her grip.

"It's better like this. You've got your orders."

"You selfish bastard! What next, huh? I get the news of your death when I'm on some god forsaken world? Did you arrange that too, get me off world for a few weeks?"

"I will not live like this."

The pain in Sam's heart was incredible as the realization dawned. "You don't even expect to have a chance do you? This is your way of opting out ... your very own version of suicide!"

Jack's eyes met hers for a split second.

"Oh God, don't do this. As long as you're alive Jack, there's hope. We can be together ..." The tears began to fall copiously down her face and she scrubbed at them furiously.

"It would never work. I'd end up in a wheelchair wishing I was dead and you'd end up hating me and wishing me dead. Better go now, Carter. You've got your orders."

Sam scrabbled in her pockets, searching for tissue, anything to wipe her face as she gazed at the man on the bed. She had never truly known him ... the calm and cold emanating from him froze the blood in her veins.

Her fingers closed over the forgotten package in her pocket. She drew it out, gripping it tightly, fighting to still the violent trembles that were beginning to grow.

"I could go AWOL."

"And I can have you arrested in a matter of minutes, Carter. The end result is the same. Your play."

"You bastard. How could you?" She sobbed openly now. "How could you claim to love me and do this? What if it were me here? Would you run out on me when I needed you? Would you run away from our marriage?"

Getting no response from him, she flung the package at him and with a heart wrenching sob, turned around and fumbled at the door to open it. She stood for a moment, leaning her head against its edge, the tears streaming unchecked down her face. "It's not over, Jack, no matter what you say, it's not over!"

**********

Jack stared at the closing door. He felt like he'd shattered into a million pieces. No matter what he'd had to do over the years, that was the hardest he'd had to bear. When he wanted to do nothing more than take Sam into his arms and love her, take away her hurt, to turn her away - turn her against him, was the most painful.

She was right. He was using the operation as a get out. He didn't expect it to go well. He'd signed everything necessary and made the appropriate call to his lawyers. Sam would inherit everything he owned, to do with as she willed. He just hoped she would find someone, find some happiness. She had a lot of living to do yet.

He had caught the small package she'd flung at him automatically and now he stared down at his clenched fist. Curiosity getting the better of him, he undid the creased paper.

He gazed at the little yellow yoyo. The bright red letters spelling, JACK, made him smile, even as the first sign of a tear built in his eye.

He brought the hand with the yoyo in to his mouth, brushing the gift with his lips. It hurt so much to turn her away ... God alone knew how she felt. If it had been Sam here, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn't have deserted her, no matter what happened, he would want to spend his life with her ... wheelchair or not.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he berated himself. He just hoped it wasn't too late to mend things. He removed the IV tube and replaced the little bung hastily.

He wavered as he stood, the blood pounding in his ears for a few seconds until he steadied. With a pain filled staggered gait he left his room. He looked from left to right, momentarily unsure of which way to go, not having left his room before now under his own steam. Everything looked different when you weren't being pushed around while flat on your back.

He pushed open the double doors at the end of the corridor and found himself in a busy reception area. He could just make out the back of Sam's head as she entered the elevator, the doors closing behind her before he could make a move.

"General O'Neill," called out a voice. Jack barely spared the suited man who was leaning over the nurses' station a glance, before he managed to locate the stair well, and he took off, his gait weaving and unsteady.

He wavered for a moment at the top of the stairs, his vision blurring. The pain was mounting and he was sweating profusely. He clenched his fist tighter, feeling the yoyo, and his resolve hit a notch higher.

He thought he'd grasped the rail firmly ... whether he missed, or his legs just plain gave way, he didn't know ... he felt the blows from the first few steps as he folded and then nothing...

**********

Sam couldn't see very well, with her eyes still full of tears. The solid body she bumped into as she left the main entrance stopped her in her tracks.

"Sam, what the ...?"

**********

George took an involuntary step back in surprise, before grabbing Sam by the shoulders and maneuvering her to one side, out of the way of the people coming and going.

Sam shook her head, furiously rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. It took her an age to speak and when she did, her voice was thick with tears, her eyes so full of misery that George had to swallow hard to reign his own in.

"I ... I've been recalled."

George nodded. "I know, that's why I'm here."

"You knew?" Her voice took on a hard accusing tone.

"Not here." George escorted her back into the hospital and flashed his ID to the reception, politely, but firmly, requesting a room for a few minutes. All the waiting rooms were occupied, but having actually listened to a security briefing, the receptionist in charge let them have the use of an admin office behind her desk. It took a short while to clear the room of the clerical workers inside, but eventually they had some privacy.

The door had barely closed behind them when Sam spoke.

"Why didn't you stop him?" The words were said with no deference to his rank.

George could tell that anger was building up inside of her and she was lashing out.

"I heard from a very concerned Landry that he'd been ordered to recall you. What I don't know, is why?"

"Jack's having the operation. His way of getting rid of me!" spat Sam. She stood upright, her eyes sparkling with anger. George could see she needed to hurt someone, just like she was hurting. "His own special way of boxing it all down ... me, him, our marriage!"

George winced visibly. He knew that Jack was pushing Sam away, trying to reduce the fallout from his actions in his own way, but he had hoped good sense and the love of Sam would pull him back.

"When is the operation scheduled for?"

Sam shrugged helplessly. "He didn't even have the guts to tell me. I saw the nil by mouth sign above his bed. Can you stop it?" Her eyes softened, taking on a pleading look.

"I wish I could. If we had a few days I might be able to pull some strings, but unless there's enough reason to doubt he's capable of making decisions for himself ..."

"He doesn't expect it to work."

George was aghast.

"He doesn't expect to survive it."

He was helpless to offer any words of comfort, and he tried to draw her into a hug. Sam was reluctant at first, but finally stopped resisting. He was more alarmed that this time she wasn't crying. Her body was wound tight and fine tremors shook through her. For a few minutes they stood in silence.

Bleeping from George's pocket broke the silence that settled on them again. He mumbled an apology and fumbled for the pager.

**********

General Hammond excused himself and left the office to take the call. Sam leaned back against the desk, staring at the carpet, feeling quite lost, and not just a little embarrassed at the way she'd spoken to a three star general, friend or not.

He was back within a couple of minutes. "Come on, we need to get to Jack."

Sam's heart jumped. "What? Surely they can't have ..."

George shook his head, indicating he wasn't much wiser than her and offered her his hand. Together they made their way upstairs. They were greeted at the elevator by the personal guard and escorted through to an emergency room.

The nurse stopped them at the doorway and ushered them outside before they could see what was going on.

"Doctor Hill will be with you in a moment."

"What's happened? Surely you can't have started to operate yet?" demanded Sam.

"The General is being prepared for emergency surgery."

"What?"

Doctor Hill made a hurried appearance, to the immense relief of the nurse.

"Mrs O'Neill, your husband is in a very bad way."

"What happened, he was fine when I left him ... he?"

"He left his room on his own and for some reason tried to get down the stairs and didn't make it. He took a very bad fall. He broke several ribs and punctured a lung. He's also showing signs of internal bleeding and unfortunately the bullet has moved."

Sam's legs began to fold on her. The doctor's words became a hotchpotch of nothing...

George had been watching her carefully and caught most of her weight. The guard hastily dragged a chair away from the wall and Sam was quickly seated, her head pushed down toward her knees.

Doctor Hill knelt down in front of her. She took Sam's frozen hands into hers and spoke slowly to her, allowing time for the words to sink in.

"I'm sorry Mrs O'Neill. If we don't operate now he will not survive the night. Apart from the internal bleeding, the bullet is now pressing into his spine and his mobility has certainly been impaired to such a degree that it would be impossible for him to walk, aside from the pain it is causing."

Sam gathered her scattered wits. She'd left him in bed ... she thought she had time to stop the operation ... crazy fool, what the hell had he been doing?

"Can you remove it?"

The doctor squeezed Sam's hands gently. "I'll do my best. Even if the operation is successful, there's no guarantee the damage won't be permanent."

Sam nodded. "I want my husband to live, anything else is a bonus."

Doctor Hill nodded and gave Sam's hands a final squeeze before releasing them and standing up.

"He's in a lot of pain. I don't want to risk sedating before we have to, but would you like to see him while I get scrubbed up?"

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. George helped her to her feet and held onto her arm to steady her. He made as if to stop outside the room, but Sam urged him onwards, holding on to him for support.

**********

Jack was on a gurney, ready to roll into theatre. The fluid bags held blood this time and various tubes were threading their way into his body. He was semi conscious, groaning quietly, though his eyes were closed.

Sam moved closer. She thought her heart would surely burst and her whole body shook with such tremors it seemed as though the world shook with her. She grasped at the hand that was clenching and unclenching with pain nearest to her and held it tightly, bringing it up to her face as she bent low, the tears from her eyes running over both of their hands.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

His eyes flickered open, giving her the barest glimmer of brown. She watched as he tried to focus on her, trying to open them wider.

"So...rr ..." he gasped.

Sam shook her head and moved closer still, her other hand stroking the hair over his forehead. "Shush, it's okay, don't try and speak." Her lips were quivering as was the rest of her body, her voice low and tender. She sniffed at her tears, trying to hold them back as they dropped onto his face.

"So sor ..." He tried to curl against the pain, his breath coming in short pants, but only his upper body was moving, something Sam was trying desperately not to notice. His other hand was balled up tightly into a fist, grinding a tempo of its own against the gurney.

Doctor Hill appeared beside Sam. She was in her theatre scrubs, the mask ready to don.

"I'm sorry, we need to start as soon as possible."

Sam choked back a sob and bent to kiss him gently on his lips.

"No matter what, I love you Jack, no matter what."

Sam kissed him again and moved back quickly before she could change her mind about letting him go. She stepped back into the comforting arms of George Hammond, who led her quietly to the waiting room ... That's all anyone could do now, pray and wait.

**********

George had insisted that they wait in the private room. He knew he wouldn't be able to budge her from the hospital, so there was no point in trying, hell he didn't even want to move himself.

He closed his eyes for a moment, half praying, half cursing, to himself ... of all the god-damned idiotic things ... that damned guard was going to get it in the neck too ... what the hell!

He felt Sam's cold hand creep into his and he curled his fingers around hers and gave it a squeeze. There was nothing to say that would comfort her, he knew that, but he cleared his throat and tried anyway.

After a few minutes of a one sided conversation, he kinda quit trying. Not that she didn't appreciate him, he knew that she did.

He was taken by surprise by Sam suddenly leaping to her feet as if she was about to run out of the room.

"Oh God, I'm AWOL!" She said it with such utter astonishment, that he almost laughed. He managed to control his reaction in the nick of time and turned it into a choking cough.

"I had the order rescinded before I left the office, but I wasn't in time to recall your personal orders."

Sam relaxed a little, turning to sit back down beside him. "That's good. Jack will be mad though."

"I pray to God that he will," said George somberly.

**********

Sam wasn't sure exactly what she was feeling. Everything had a kind of surreal haze and she was hoping that she would wake up ... "Any time now would be good."

"Sorry, what," asked Hammond, sounding puzzled.

Sam jumped. She hadn't meant to say that out loud and she gave the General a slightly pink faced apology.

Doctor Hill couldn't give them a proper indication as to how long the operation would take, but she figured that as long as they had no news, then Jack was alive on the operating table.

The General slipped out to sort out some refreshments and for a moment the absolute fear of being alone made her do something she hadn't done for years.

She slid down to her knees from the couch and clasped her hands together and she prayed. The last time she had done this, it had been for her mom, to keep her safe in heaven. This time she was praying that Jack would be safe here, where he was needed - with her and while she was down there anyway ... she said a prayer for Janet, and prayed that God kept her safe as well.

**********

Coffee and sandwiches ... just what was on them she couldn't have said, but the coffee was hot and warming. Despite the caffeine she eventually slid sideways and her head slumped onto Hammond's shoulder, her eyes closing.

The next thing she knew she was being shaken gently. For a brief moment she forgot where she was and she whispered her husband's name...

"Come on Sam, wake up."

Sam couldn't mistake that voice for her Jack's and as she opened her eyes, the memories returned with such force that her head spun.

The General helped her to sit up and, as he did so, the blanket he had covered her with slid down to settle behind her. She shivered, missing its comfort.

She gazed up fearfully at the doctor, still wearing her scrubs, who waited patiently while she gathered herself.

She tried to breathe normally, but it was hard ... how did one normally breathe? Her heart sped up and thumped wildly.

Doctor Hill perched herself on the table, as was her wont. She gave Sam a gentle half smile, which Sam couldn't work out ... good or bad ... dead or alive ... dead or alive ... the crazy chant almost made her scream...

**********

Sam thought that madness had finally descended on her ... the way her thoughts seared around, winding and thumping into each other, scattering her few remaining sanity cells far and wide...

"Mrs O'Neill?" Doctor Hill raised her voice and leaned closer. "We have removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding." She flicked a look of concern to the General. "Did you hear me Mrs O'Neill? Your husband is alive." She grasped both of Sam's hands, pressing something into her fingers. "It was only when we got him fully sedated he released his grip on this."

It took several seconds for the doctor's words to penetrate Sam's skull and another couple of seconds for her fried synapses to process the information being sent to her brain.

Eyes brimming with tears, she stared at the little yellow yoyo. "He's alive?" Her words came out hesitatingly, almost as though she was afraid to believe them.

"Yes, yes he is. We don't know yet what permanent damage there is and he's extremely weak, but he is alive."

Sam crumpled. Huge sobs racked her frame. She clutched the little yellow yoyo close to her heart and cried ... and cried ... the release her body and mind craved...

**********

Doctor Hill calmly organized a room and a light sedative for Mrs O'Neill. She had expected something along these lines. She vaguely recalled that her patient's wife was also military, yet no matter how hard they thought they were, their bodies knew what was necessary for survival. It was important that the stresses and strains of events were permitted to take their natural release ... She knew that the next few days would be just as fraught for both of them.

General Hammond followed her out of the room they'd settled Mrs O'Neill into. "You need rest too you know," chided Doctor Hill in a soft voice.

The General nodded. "I'm going to make a few calls and then try and get some sleep in the relatives' room. That couch is sure big enough. You will wake me if there's anything?"

She nodded. He was a rock if ever she saw one. She liked the large man and heartily warmed to the trusting, enticing nature of him, that and the ready twinkle in his eyes. "I'm so glad Mrs O'Neill has someone like you with her. She'll be ready to face the next battle after a good sleep."

Doctor Hill left the General and returned to check General O'Neill. The first forty- eight hours were the most critical and round the clock high dependency care was required. She didn't like to lose any of her patients and it had come pretty close with the General, more than once.

She'd tried her best to talk O'Neill out of having the operation that had been scheduled for tomorrow, but the man had quietly insisted that the necessary paperwork be prepared and he had calmly signed everything. She could understand, in a way, why he had insisted on having the operation. But that he was so calm and accepting of his fate was slightly unnerving. She didn't know why ... but what she was sure of was that death held no horror for him, only the promise of release, though it would have given a private hell of its own to his wife. There was a lot of love between them and she had been hoping that Mrs O'Neill would change her husband's mind ... but it just wasn't to be.

The yoyo that rolled from his hand in the theatre as he went under stopped them all in their tracks for a moment and she felt the ridiculously shocking urge to giggle. As she was choking it down with a cough, she wondered where he'd got it and how on Earth he'd been holding on to it for all of this time ... and then silently promised herself that her staff would getting a ticking off for missing it...

After the operation, when she was cleaning herself up, her head nurse put the yoyo down on the counter beside her. The bright red letters bearing its owner's name brought a smile to her tired face and she had picked it up on her way out to see his wife.

**********

She methodically checked over her patient's vitals and adjusted the medication when it looked like he was coming out of it just a little too soon for her liking. She intended to keep him lightly sedated just a while longer, giving his body a chance to begin the healing it desperately needed.

She'd done her best. That was all she could ever do. Miracles weren't her specialty and she'd long stopped believing in the power of prayer ... it was in the hands of fate now...

**********

"Hey Sam."

Sam murmured and curled tighter. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her hair had gone way beyond the definition of bed hair.

"Perhaps we should let her sleep longer."

Daniel straightened up from the bed. "Yeah. I wish they'd have let us see Jack first."

They settled down to wait. After receiving a call from General Hammond and the news he gave them, they literally dropped everything to go be with their friends, thankful they were at last able to do so after things had calmed down at the SGC. Their only regret was that they couldn't have been there sooner.

They'd all spent so many times over the years, waiting for a team mate to come round in an infirmary that being in a strange hospital, hundreds of miles from the Mountain, made no difference.

**********

Doctor Hill had been reluctant at first to allow the men to even see Sam, but General Hammond had insisted that they were close, much closer than some families were in fact, and that they would be of considerable support to Mrs O'Neill. They could help run interference when Jack awoke.

Doctor Hill was a little aghast at first at General Hammond's use of the expression, `run interference', but after due consideration and a quick mental summing up of her patient's `character,' she realized that was quite the right sentiment to attach.

She sighed heavily and just hoped that such interference would be warranted ... it would at least mean her patient was still alive.

They'd had a couple of hiccoughs, to put it mildly, during the first few hours after surgery and she had come close to getting Mrs O'Neill roused, but, so far, it hadn't been necessary. Her patient seemed to be stubborn enough to beat the odds.

**********

Sam stretched. She felt warm and fuzzy and not just a little disoriented. Her tongue felt two sizes too big for her mouth and she was very thirsty. Blearily she regarded the paper cup and straw that seemed to magic itself into her line of sight. She sucked greedily and having had her fill sank back against the pillow. She focused on the figure returning the cup to the side table and jerked up in surprise.

"Daniel!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, wondered how long you'd be, sleepy head." He gave her a smile and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Oh Daniel. Oh God, how's Jack?"

"He's ... he's ..."

"O'Neill is maintaining himself."

"Oh Teal'c!" Sam gave the man a smile she was so glad to see him - see them both. "... holding his own?" She frowned and threw the light cover back. Her clothes were crumpled and as she stood the room spun a little.

"Whoa."

A steadying hand grabbed her and eased her down to sit on the bed.

"Okay?"

"Bit too quick I think." She gave a rueful smile. She desperately needed to go sit with her husband, to see for herself...

Husband. Oooops. She gave Daniel another smile. She had some explaining to do, hadn't she? Damn Jack. Trust him to use a little excuse like major surgery and being unconscious to get out of this. But that could wait...

"I am sorry we were not here sooner."

Sam's smile was genuine. "You're here now, both of you."

**********

Doctor Hill was soon tracked down by Teal'c at Sam's request for further news and she took a few minutes to shoo both men out while she gave Sam a quick once over and finally allowed them back in at Sam's insistence and General Hammond accompanied them.

Doctor Susan Hill had in all her years experience seen a lot, done an awful lot more ... and without a doubt, these people, and she included her patient and General Hammond in this, were the most eclectic group she'd come across.

The men regarded her solemnly, concern written on their features, although the dark man was much harder to read, she had no doubt about how he felt. Mrs O'Neill sat dry eyed, but clearly distressed as she waited to hear the latest news.

How did you begin to tell people that someone they loved ... and she had no doubt now that she saw them together, about how close they were, man and wife aside that was ... that they were perilously close to losing them ... it was never easy ... she would never get used to that - and she hoped she never would.

**********

Sam listened to the doctor, she remained dry eyed, her face pale, her skin almost translucent and if any of the men had mentioned the word fragile ... she would have shown them she was most certainly not. She requested that she be able to see Jack first, alone. No-one tried to talk her out of it - they quietly accompanied her to the room and waited outside.

The lone nurse in the room hurriedly repositioned a chair nearer the bed and Sam thankfully sank down, her legs almost ready to cave. For a few moments the sight that lay before her made her blood run cold. Jack was on his back, chest bare, a thin sheet the only covering up to his stomach. The chest drain was almost lost in the myriad of wires and sticky pads that held the electrodes in position, and bruises and abrasions were in abundance. There was another new dressing on the side of his head and his mouth and nose were covered with an oxygen mask. Tubes that carried blood and other fluids ran into various positions concealed by the sheet and also into his arms.

Sam held out a tremulous hand, her eyes seeking the steady rise and fall of Jack's chest as her fingers ghosted tenderly over his face. She heard the steady, quiet blip of the machines at the other side, and knew what they meant, but it was only actually seeing his chest move that reassured her - he was actually breathing.

"Has he moved?" she asked the nurse quietly.

They both knew what she was asking.

"He's still sedated, Mrs O'Neill."

Sam held his hand, somewhat delicately at first for fear of hurting him, then as she settled a little, she held it more firmly, tracing its back with her thumb. She hesitantly she began to talk to him.

After a few minutes, at Sam's request, the nurse brought in their friends.

The silence was a little unnerving at first, but soon the men began to talk softly, involving her and also including Jack in the conversation. Each of them knew from personal experience that while somebody may not be conscious, a friend nearby, and waiting, always felt comforting.

**********

The day was long and the night longer still. Her friends faced a huge battle in getting Sam to rest and eat, but it was one battle they won, albeit briefly.

Time was their enemy and also their friend ... the longer Jack continued to hold his own and breathe on his own, the more positive the outlook became.

**********

Doctor Hill had gradually become more enthusiastic in the updates of her patient's progress. Jack seemed to be on the upturn and the sedation was being decreased gradually.

Sam was hopeful that at last he might soon be waking. The only cloud on the horizon was just what disability he might be facing. It would make no difference to her, though she knew it would be hard - she bore no illusion about that. But it would make a big difference to Jack. The extent of his injury would determine his attitude to his future. She was sure though that he could, and would, make the adjustment to live a long and fulfilled life. He would need all the love and support from her and their friends that they could offer -and they would need the patience of saints. She knew the ride would be rough and the journey long ... but he was so worth it, in every way.

**********

Doctor Hill entered the room and spared her a brief smile before getting down to business. She worked methodically, checking her patient and the equipment then updating the notes. Finally she made an adjustment to the drip.

"He should start coming around a little within a couple of hours, Mrs O'Neill," warned the Doctor.

"How soon before ..."

"As soon as he's recognizant I can do a few basic tests, but it won't necessarily tell us much so early. We should expect the worse. He should have use of his arms at least though, but everything else from ..." the doctor put a hand on her midriff, "... here down there will probably have no sensation. The important thing is that he is kept calm and reassured. He's still going to be in a lot of pain from the other injuries and very weak. We can be thankful he's not having breathing difficulties, aside from the damage caused by the fall."

Sam nodded, her throat aching as she tried to swallow her tears. She felt like she should be running on dry now ... she never knew she had so many left in her ... but he was alive - alive.

**********

It was several hours in fact, in the middle of the night, before Jack began to stir. Sam used the buzzer as he moved his head slightly, the increasing bleeps of the monitors accompanying the motion.

Doctor Hill was there within a few minutes, along with one of her nurses. She quickly began checking her patient's vitals, treating Sam to another one of her brief smiles.

"General O'Neill." The doctor spoke with a quiet firmness. She held onto one of his hands. "General, come on now, can you give my fingers a squeeze?"

Sam watched intently, hardly daring to breathe.

"General O'Neill?" The fingers in her hand fluttered slightly, no strength in them, but at least there was movement. "That's it, come on now, put a little more backbone into it," she encouraged.

His lashes fluttered slightly and he huffed his breath beneath the oxygen mask.

"Jack?" whispered Sam.

He turned his head just a little toward her and she squeezed his other hand tightly. "Hey Jack, come on, time to wake up."

He murmured and his lashes fluttered again, giving her just a peep of brown this time betraying something Sam had never seen before - a look of pure panic, before they slammed shut and his breathing began to speed up.

"Jack."

Doctor Hill was quick. She immediately injected something into his IV tube and gradually his breathing began to calm, his eyelids fluttering as he slid back into a drug induced sleep.

**********

It was dawn before Jack stirred again. Sam was dreadfully tired, but at the first signs of him wakening, her body galvanized itself into action and she buzzed for the doctor. Remembering the doctor's advice, she remained still, holding his hand and talking to him, keeping him calm.

Doctor Hill joined them within a few minutes. It seemed to Sam that woman never went home either...

Jack moved his head to follow the movement of the doctor as she neared the bed.

"Good morning, General O'Neill." She gave him a smile of encouragement.

He soon switched his focus back to Sam, although he was obviously battling to hold his attention on her, and she gave him a wide smile.

He gasped something behind the mask, his words unintelligible.

Doctor Hill loosened the mask down to his chin. "Just take it easy, General. Don't try and force anything, nice and easy."

"Sa a m," he slurred.

"I'm here. Just relax, shush."

Jack tried hard to focus on her and he managed to flutter his fingers in her hand before once more subsiding into unconsciousness.

Sam sat quite still. The only movement she made was her thumb circling on the back of his hand, that and the silent tears that tracked down her face.

**********

Sam eventually gave in. As much as she wanted to be there when Jack awoke again, she had passed her limit a long while since and took a little comfort in the fact that neither Daniel or Teal'c would leave him on his own. Doctor Hill had been quite blunt with her that she didn't want another patient to worry about and threatened to stop visitors all together. She'd brought General Hammond into the battle and between them Sam found herself ushered out of the hospital by the General himself, and before she realized it she was opening the door to her and Jack's home.

She hesitantly asked General Hammond in, insisting that he needed something to eat as well and it was no fun eating alone - was it?

The General smiled and agreed. Sam knew it was to make sure that she herself ate something before climbing into the oblivion of sleep, but for the moment she didn't care. The house seemed too quiet. She'd hardly ever been there without Jack she realized, the longest being a couple of hours waiting for him to finish work when she had a daytime flight. And boy, was he worth waiting for!

She methodically began opening the freezer drawers, her attention not on the food at all. Jack kept the freezer quite well stocked with pre-cooked food. He'd insisted they weren't going to waste time cooking food when they could be doing other things with their time when she was home. The impatient scrawl that labeled the contents tugged at her heart. The `Friday night special', she found stopped her in her tracks.

"It's the little things that are hard."

Sam jumped a little, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She'd completely forgotten General Hammond was there with her. She found him regarding her with a sad little knowing smile.

She brought herself back to the present and determinedly thrust the food back into the freezer. "Uh, um, Jack's favorite. I'll save that for when he comes home. Here ..." she peered at the next label, "pork casserole?"

"Fine."

Sam set about defrosting and then heating the casserole. She put some part baked frozen rolls into the oven to accompany it, while Hammond set the table.

They worked quietly together and the quiet house seemed a little more homely. She realized what a lot she had to thank General Hammond for, but as she began to try and express her thanks he stopped her. He placed his large hand over hers and squeezed it comfortingly.

"It's okay Sam. You know I've never said this, but Jack is like the son I never had."

Sam smiled. "Really?"

"Yes, wanted to whomp him many a time!" he joked.

Sam laughed. "That I can believe."

"Seriously, when you married Jack you became a member of the family, and that's what a family is for. I know things are going to be tough, just how tough we don't know yet, but I want you to know that I'm here for you both."

Sam found she couldn't speak in answer to that little speech and she contented herself with giving him a quick hug.

They ate quietly, Sam surprising herself at how hungry she felt and she finished her plateful easily. She didn't manage to suppress the huge yawn that suddenly escaped and Hammond urged her to get some sleep. He seemed to sense her reluctance to be left alone and asked if he could use the guest room to grab some rest himself, to which Sam readily agreed.

**********

Sam lay on the bed, exhausted. She felt much calmer than she had done in the last few days. She knew it was no good dwelling on what had happened - as Jack would say, it's done - suck it up and move on. As frightening as the operation had been, maybe it was for the best. The overlying fear was of losing him completely, but it seemed she would be spared that. She knew that the chance of Jack walking again was slim, but this was one battle they could face together. As long as he was alive - there was always hope.

**********

Daniel sat reading, though his attention wasn't on the words, it constantly wandered to his friend. He was still slightly shocked that Jack had been almost killed after moving to the relative safety of DC.

There was still no news on the who or why - maybe they would never know, but thank god they'd failed. That Jack might never walk again wasn't something he wanted to dwell on. He couldn't picture Jack in a wheelchair permanently, nor did he want to. He'd heard that Jack had planned to go ahead against the odds with an operation, and quite frankly it didn't surprise him. He just could not see how Jack would adjust to life as a paraplegic.

The steady beep from the monitors seemed to be speeding up a little and Daniel leaned closer to watch for those little signs of him waking. He wasn't disappointed and Jack's eye lids began to flicker.

He placed his hand on the older man's forearm, offering a gentle touch.

"Hey."

Jack's eyes opened a little more. It looked to be hard work and Daniel knew that feeling so well from a personal point of view. He gave him a comforting smile and waited, he knew that Jack was half-asleep yet.

There was a muffled groan in response.

Daniel searched for something to say, something to release some of the tension that had been coiled in his gut since he'd first seen the report of Jack's shooting on the television. He settled for a joking comment. "So Jack, did you miss infirmary life so much you had to go and get yourself shot?"

A slight grimace, whether of pain or an attempt to smile crossed Jack's features, Daniel found it hard to tell, but he had obviously heard the words and Daniel couldn't help feeling a sense of relief.

Jack weakly raised his left arm a little. He was huffing his breath under the mask and his eyes closed again. He began clenching and unclenching his fingers, he seemed to be trying, without much success, to make a fist.

The monitor's quiet beep still rose, both in volume and speed and the prone man started to struggle, his breathing becoming a rasping gasp for air.

Daniel used one hand to buzz for help while leaning closer.

"Take it easy, Jack, hold on."

Daniel wished the help would hurry up. He took a hold of the hand nearest to him, gripping it firmly. "Jack, it's okay, I've got you, it's okay."

Jack's eyes barely flickered open. "S a a," he gasped and Daniel winced at the raw emotion he saw there.

"She's coming, Jack."

"No ... gone."

Daniel shook his head, trying desperately to get through to his friend. "She isn't gone. She's just getting some rest. She'll be back before you know it."

Jack groaned and tried to roll and although his shoulders shifted a little, it was only too obvious that the rest of his body wasn't following whatever orders he was giving.

Daniel drew a sharp breath and gripped Jack's hand tighter. "Hey, try and stay still, please Jack."

"Tell Sa ..." Jack gasped in pain and his eyes slammed shut in response.

"It's okay. You can tell her yourself - she'll be here soon."

Jack shook his head. "Gone ... sorry ... tell Sa ..."

The door opened and whatever Jack was trying to say was lost as a doctor and nurse entered. Daniel was ushered back from the bed, but thankfully allowed to stay in the room.

Jack continued to struggle weakly, batting the hand of the doctor away from him.

"General O'Neill, please," said the doctor, quietly, but firmly.

Daniel jumped a little as a hand was placed on his shoulder. So intent was he on the scene in front of him that he hadn't heard Teal'c's entrance.

"Has O'Neill awakened?"

"Erm, yes, he's a bit ... I don't think he can ..."

Teal'c drew Daniel out of the room, waiting patiently as the other man tried to gather himself together a little. The sight of Jack's pain and distress, and yes, Daniel had to admit it, his obvious weakness, had upset him more than he would have thought possible.

Daniel drew a few deep breaths and snatching his glasses off, beginning to pace a little before stopping abruptly and turning to face Teal'c.

"What if he can't walk again?"

Teal'c seemed to consider this for a moment. "There is such a possibility, but should we not pass that structure when we become adjacent?"

"I think that we just hit that ... structure. He ... he didn't move his legs at all then."

"Perhaps it is ahead of time to attain such a claim."

Daniel raised a hand, before dropping it listlessly. "Ah, Teal'c ... never mind."

**********

Sam slept heavily - but at least she had slept. She woke after several hours and a quick shower helped chase away the lethargy that enveloped her mind, but not her heart. She dressed hurriedly before placing a call to the hospital, knowing that they would have called if there was any change - but she had to double check anyway. By the time she'd ascertained everything was alright, as much as it could be that was, General Hammond had made an appearance Sam was impatient to get back to the hospital but she felt she had to offer the General a little bit of hospitality and she rummaged around to find something for breakfast.

Coffee and toast was about the best she could muster at the moment and they ate quickly and quietly.

The General's mood seemed as somber as her own, though he certainly looked as though he'd benefited from a decent sleep as well.

Sam cleared the table rapidly, literally throwing everything in the dishwasher in her impatience. She made a fast sweep of the bedroom, and began throwing the clothes she'd discarded last night into the laundry hamper. Something fell on the floor and rolled under the bed as she grabbed her jacket. Cursing softly, she dropped to her belly and scooped her arm into the narrow space. She realized what the object was the instant her hand closed over it.

She took a steadying breath and rolled over to her back with the small wooden toy in her hand, holding it up and studying it. The painful ache she'd had constantly since she'd heard the news of Jack being shot seemed to intensify ... where the hell had he been going when he fell? She frowned, trying to remember how she'd got the yoyo back ... she remembered flinging it at Jack before leaving ... vague memories of it being given to her by someone flashed through her tired brain, but for some reason, try as she might, she couldn't make them any clearer.

The ringing of the phone brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled to her feet and snatched it up.

"Mrs O'Neill?"

"Yes?" Her heart beat painfully for a heart stopping moment.

"I'm John Rigby from the Washington Herald. I was wondering if you could ..."

"I'm sorry. I don't have time for this right now." Relief that it wasn't the hospital calling flooded through her.

"We heard there's been an incident at the hospital. Is it true there's been another attempt on your husband's life?"

"No - look I'm sorry. Any news will be released by my husband's office."

"Just a few minutes of your time ..."

"I'm sorry." Sam put the phone down, but didn't get as far as the bedroom door when it rang again.

She listened for a second, before once again refusing to make a statement. Two more similar phone calls in quick succession had her gritting her teeth in frustration.

She grabbed up her purse, determined to leave before being delayed further, when the phone rang again.

She snatched it up, slightly angry they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Speak to my husband's office ..."

"Colonel Carter," the voice drawled - it wasn't a question.

Sam froze for a moment. "Who is this?"

"I'm hurt you've forgotten me so soon. But please don't say my name, this line may not be private, shall we say?"

Light dawned on Sam.

"How's Jack?"

"Things aren't too good at the moment." Sam spoke carefully. She told him what little she knew, leaving out the details of Jack's fall.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Look, things are okay at my end for now and if need be I will make contact with Hammond. But I'm calling with some news regarding the shooting. I've got a lead on the shooter."

Sam waited. "And?" she prompted when the silence lengthened.

"And I'll call you when I know more."

"Was ... were they after Jack specifically?"

"I said I'll call when I know more."

"May ..."

"Ah, ah!" chastised Maybourne quickly, cutting over what was no doubt going to be his name.

Sam bit down and sighed heavily. "Look ..."

"Do you realize how much ... ah, never mind. I'll tell you this much. Homeland Security are pretty sure it wasn't a personal attack and I'm inclined to agree with them. Give Jack my best."

The line went dead and it was a couple of seconds before Sam slowly replaced the receiver. She clutched the yoyo tighter and grabbed her purse again, calling to the General to say she was ready...

**********

General Hammond dropped Sam off at the hospital's rear entrance to avoid any press encounters, promising to return later and she made her way up to Jack's room on her own.

Daniel and Teal'c were both standing in the corridor, deep in discussion. She hurried up to them, knowing something was wrong the instant she saw Daniel's face.

Her steps slowed and she faltered slightly, before gathering herself and moving forward with determination. "What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

Daniel was the first to speak. "Sam, hi ... uh, did you get some proper rest?"

"Daniel?"

He sighed and leaned back heavily against the wall. "He um, Jack woke a few minutes ago, but he was uh, a bit out of it."

Sam's heart thudded so loudly it hurt. "And?" She thrust her hand into her jacket pocket and gripped the yoyo hard.

"He was asking for you. He seemed to think you'd gone ... gone for good that is. Did ... ah, he, erm, he was a bit distressed Sam. I tried telling him you wouldn't be long, but ..."

"Why didn't someone call me?"

Teal'c shook his head. "We did not have time, Colonel Carter. It only just happened. The doctor is with him now.

Sam edged toward Jack's room and Daniel gently drew on her arm to stop her.

"Uh, Sam?"

"Spit it out, Daniel." Sam sighed. She was in no mood for guessing games and more than anxious to see Jack.

"He ... I don't think he ..." Daniel cleared his throat. He was clearly upset, but Sam couldn't offer any comfort at the moment - she was all out.

"I don't think he could ..."

"You think he's paralyzed?" finished Sam.

Daniel nodded miserably.

Sam knew it was more than a possibility. However, until that moment she had had hope. She felt the world tilt a little. She was no saint, no martyr. She knew if the worst happened, the future would be more than tough, but the hardest thing to bear was what it would do to Jack. The rocky road of life had just become a treacherous journey into the unknown...

**********

Fortunately, for Sam's sake, it wasn't long before a doctor came out of Jack's room. He wasted no time explaining what had happened.

"General O'Neill is a bit calmer now. I've given him a very light sedative, just to take him down a notch or two, that's all. He's having a little difficulty breathing, but that's due to the injury."

"Has he ... did he ..." Sam hesitated, loathe to voice the question.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and sighed. "I am sorry, Mrs O'Neill, but it at the moment it looks as though your husband is experiencing some loss of movement. However, it is early days and I would like to stress that at this stage there is no absolute diagnosis."

Sam felt Daniel's hand creep into hers and she squeezed it hard as she tried to stay focused on the doctor's words. She felt Teal'c's reassuring presence at her back and welcomed the strength he gave her.

"Your husband was very distressed when he woke, and was asking for you. If you feel up to it, he may settle a little more with your presence."

"Can I see him now?" she asked.

The doctor nodded and Daniel let go of her hand, and with a few quick words, said he and Teal'c would wait while she was in with Jack.

Sam didn't even bother answering, but followed the doctor into Jack's room.

The doctor's presence was almost forgotten as she moved quickly to the bed. She grasped Jack's hand gently and leaned over him to touch his forehead with a feather-like kiss. Her other hand automatically brushed at his hair and his eye lids fluttered slightly as she straightened up.

"Hey Jack, miss me? I'm back again." Sam's voice wavered as she swallowed at the lump in her throat. Those damn tears were never far away these days. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"Did you see Daniel and Teal'c? They've managed to get a break and come visit."

Sam felt the pressure of a chair against the back of her legs and spared the doctor a brief look of gratitude before returning her attention to her husband as she sat down. The closing of the door barely registered. She leaned over the bed, resting her elbows on it, and raised his hand to her face, clasping it with both of hers.

"I went home last night, Jack. It's not the same there without you. General Hammond came with me. He's been so great. I don't know what we'd do without him."

Jack's head shifted a little and his breathing sped up a little. The little clouds of vapor inside the mask seemed to grow bigger.

"Shush, take it easy, nice and easy. Doctor Hill said it'll be a bit strange for you. Nice and easy, shussssh." Sam continued to talk softly. She became aware of a fluttering movement of the fingers that were entwined with hers and his eyelids began to flicker more rapidly, sure signs that he was awaking.

The first glimpse of the dark velvet of his eyes quickened her heartbeat and the smile that came to her lips was genuine and beautiful.

"Hey."

The words were quiet, just a throaty gasp, but Sam heard and her smile widened. "Hey," she responded, kissing the back of his hand lovingly.

"You ... here."

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I rather be?" Sam spoke firmly, determined to put any nonsense out of his head once and for all.

"I ..."

"Hush now. I don't want to hear another word from you, unless it's I love you."

Jack tried to smile under the mask. She saw the way the corners of his mouth crinkled.

"Love ... you."

"Back at ya, flyboy," she whispered teasingly, gazing into his eyes.

She watched as he tried to fight sleep, but it was a battle he was doomed to lose. This was one round she was glad he didn't win.

She kept his hand gripped tightly in hers as he slept, needing to feel his presence as much as he obviously needed to feel hers.

She wasn't going to leave him alone again.

**********

Sam woke with a start from the light doze she'd fallen into. Jack was awake and struggling to move. He was fighting to remove his hand from hers as his other hand began clawing at the light sheet that covered him, dragging it aside.

Sam watched dumbstruck as the hand clawed at his legs repeatedly. The panic in his eyes, the tight lines of agony that were etched into his face made her heart plummet and her stomach lurched in response.

"Jack." Sam managed to find a weak voice, but he paid no heed. The keening sounds of distress that came from him became more urgent as his fingernails gouged a crimson track into the top of his thighs.

"Jack!" Sam found more voice and rose, trying to divert his hands from their bloody quest.

"Look at me, Jack!"

His breath came in panicky gasps and the monitors at the bedside were beginning to wail an alarm.

Sam grabbed at his hands, trying desperately to grip them. "Jack, I'm here. Please don't, don't ..."

"No ... No ... No ..." He was heaving for breath and trying to raise himself from the pillows without any success.

Sam flinched as his hands flailed wildly and then closed on hers, his grip painful. The terrified look in his eyes wrenched a gasp of agony from her.

"Oh God, Jack, I'm here, look at me, I'm here. It's okay, please, Jack" Sam was almost shouting as she tried to get him to focus on her.

She was dimly aware of more people in the room, but her sole focus lay on the face of her husband.

"General O'Neill, please try and take a slow breath," urged Doctor Hill as she leaned closer.

Jack's wide panicked expression seemed to lessen slightly but he still struggled to breathe.

Doctor Hill calmly injected his IV and perched a little on the bed, clasping Jack's shoulder with one hand. "Sir, listen to me, try and slow your breathing down. Try not to breathe from your stomach, just take short breaths. Short breaths, General."

Doctor Hill's voice continued, quietly but firmly, and as the sedative began to take a slow effect, Jack seemed to stop fighting and the gasping breaths began to slow. The oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose had become white with vapor as he struggled and now, at last, clear patches began to show as his breathing steadied.

"That's it Jack, nice and easy, don't fight it, I'm here, love, I'm here." Sam allowed him to maintain the grip on her hands and slowly, as his grip began to falter, she changed it so that she grasped his instead. She maintained eye contact with him and as his eyes began to fade beneath his lids she stayed quite still until she was confident that at last he was sleeping.

Doctor Hill's soft voice came to her from beside her, but she kept her eyes fixed on Jack as she listened.

"The sedative I just administered was very light, however I can't continue to sedate him given the difficulty he has breathing. I'm going to prescribe a tranquillizer. He will still be awake and quite cognizant after a little, when his system gets use to it, but it should take the edge off the panic."

Sam couldn't help her startled glance at the doctor at the word `panic'. Doctor Hill nodded and continued. "You have to understand that waking in this state is a huge shock for both your husband to comprehend and for his body to try to deal with."

Sam knew her hands were shaking, but merely tightened her hold on Jack and sat quietly whilst Doctor Hill examined the damage he'd wrought on his body.

The doctor tut tutted softly as she cleaned up the wounds and applied a light dressing.

The horror of seeing Jack's reaction shook Sam to the core. She drew breath shakily, dismayed that her trembling seemed to be increasing.

Doctor Hill said something, but it was merely some distant rumble to Sam's ears.

"Mrs O'Neill?" repeated the doctor. "Are you okay?" The doctor's voice was soft, and the caring tone in it almost undid her.

Sam nodded briefly.

"Take some time out, please."

"I need to be here."

"He won't be awake for a while now. I promise you a nurse will sit with him and at the first sign of him waking, you will know."

Sam hesitated. She had learned a lot from the man lying in this bed, her commanding officer for so many years, her friend, her lover ... and now her husband. He'd taught her many things. He'd helped her to realize her full potential, given her strength and courage - even made her produce the impossible and at times, a miracle ... Sam's eyes closed for a moment and she tried to draw on every ounce of strength she possessed. She had to focus. Now was not the time to fall apart - Jack would need her strength, until he regained his own.

She drew a deep breath, and calmness followed the oxygen through her body. "Thank you. I'll take a short break and come back." Sam leaned over and kissed her husband, brushing back the hair from his forehead.

"I won't be long," she promised.

**********

Their friends and colleagues, Daniel and Teal'c, were right outside the door. From Daniel's expression, she gathered they'd heard a little of what had happened. She leaned heavily against the wall.

"Are you alright?" asked Daniel. He seemed to be scrutinizing her face.

Sam nodded. She cleared her throat a little before trusting herself to speak. "He, he woke and ..." The urge to clear her throat again was there. Sam clenched her teeth and looked to the far wall, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. "Jack couldn't move. He panicked." The words were out. Said. Done.

"Oh God," whispered Daniel.

He didn't look to be too far from tears himself and Sam steeled herself and risked a quick look at Teal'c. His dark eyes bared his sorrow and somehow this was more upsetting than Daniel's open emotion.

Sam pushed off from the wall and grabbed them each by an arm, drawing them close. They needed each other, more than ever now. Jack would need their love and strength and even if they had to ram it down his throat - he would get it!

**********

Jack's return to consciousness was slow.

Sam was there. Whenever he woke - she was called. Sometimes it was barely a few minutes that he woke for, but each and every moment was worth it to Sam.

The day wore on into night and the night became day again. Jack was beginning to focus on her more clearly and for longer each time. He was calm and quiet. The tranquilizers that were fed into his IV seemed to be doing their job - for the moment.

The smile that tugged at his mouth each time he woke and saw her, reached his eyes. He'd barely spoken, other than an odd word, but Doctor Hill assured Sam that it was the combination of the sedatives leaving him and his body's adjustment to the tranquilizers and pain killers that kept him almost under.

His breathing had certainly improved and by the end of the fourth day the nursing staff had turned him to lie on his side, protected and propped with pillows. The oxygen mask had been exchanged for a nasal cannula. The tubing and wires were much lighter now, and only a single clear fluid IV remained.

**********

It was late afternoon on the fifth day after the operation when Jack finally asked after Daniel and Teal'c, his voice low and rough from the oxygen.

Sam had her chair hitched right up to the bed, her upper body almost on the bed with him.

"You just missed them," said Sam, her voice light and she couldn't resist adding, "Sleepy head."

Her fingers threaded through his hair and he nuzzled his head against her hand.

"Nice," he rasped.

Sam watched as his eyes closed slowly, drifting once again to sleep on the tide of drugs. Only when she was sure he was asleep, did she buzz for a nurse and then leave for a brief rest.

She'd made Daniel and Teal'c accept keys to her house and they took turns in resting and bringing Sam fresh clothes. Sam never trod further than the relatives' room she was given, making use of its small shower and taking all her meals there.

No-one tried to persuade her to leave. When Sam had voiced her intentions, surprisingly Daniel and Teal'c nodded in agreement and began to get things organized to help her out. General Hammond was also a frequent visitor and another line of support.

**********

The days passed slowly. For Sam they were a haze and, if she had been asked, she couldn't have said exactly what day it was. When Jack slept, Sam slept. When Jack woke, Sam was there.

Jack began to take a little more interest in what was happening around him now, although his eyes were still clouded from the drugs, his speech a little slow, and his words hesitant.

Sam was waiting for him to ask `that' question ... each time he woke - she waited. It was hanging over them both, she knew that, but she was too much of a coward to shout it out and get it over with. He didn't struggle, but she watched silently as he ran a hand over his stomach, down to his thighs, his eyes dark, but his face betraying nothing.

**********

Doctor Hill replaced the covers over Jack's feet and straightened up. The last line of tests was completed and she made a few quick notes before looking up.

Two pairs of eyes were watching her intently. The dark ones were cast in shadow, knowing and wretched. The blue ones, most surprisingly, still held an expression of hope - hope that she was about to dash.

"I'm sorry."

Two words.

Two simple words that put the proverbial nail in the illustrious career of General Jack O'Neill.

Doctor Susan Hill had cursed her inability to work miracles on more than one occasion in her career, and today was no exception.

"The tests all in

Jackfic Archive Story

Supporting Rumors

by Jackie ONeill Nut