Author: Crash

Email: the.yllek@gmail.com

Status: Complete

Category: Angst H/C

Pairings: none really

Spoilers: Uhhhh Gats! I don't think that there is any spoilers

Season: 1 or 2 early in the series

Sequel/Series Info: none

Rating: PG

Content Warnings: nothing that I can think of.

File Size (kb): 81.5

Archive: Incoming Wormhole, Heliopolis

Summary: One can only take so much after all we are all human. Comfort comes from the strangest of places.

Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Author's Note: Happy Birthday Badger! Sorry that this is soooooo late. Thanx Teoh, Auntie Corine, and all the others that gave help. To Tadooh, Neet, Susan, and Wendy for the kick in the seat of the pants and for being there to look things over. Karen for the adventures in the bat mobile and the huge kick in the mik'ta that got me in gear to finish the fic. And to Aniko for going "Jaaaaaaaaaaaack >:D<" at every opportunity she had. All mistakes are me own. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BADGER!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks for all the fic.

Dark Streets

by crash

Colonel Jack O'Neill made his way aimlessly down the street. He didn't know where he was going and at the moment he really didn't care. He just wanted to get out; get away from his team, friends, everyone and everything. Jack had divested himself of his dog tags and military ID, thrown them across the room and stormed out of the empty house.

It wasn't one of the brightest things to be doing at 0230; walking down the deserted streets of down town Colorado Springs. Then again it wasn't very bright just walking out of his house without a coat, gloves, and hat. They were lucky if the temperature got into the double digits the last few days.

His hands were stuffed deep in his jeans pockets. It wasn't so much as to keep them warm, as he couldn't bear to look at them. He didn't want to see the crimson red blood that stained them. The blood of the men he had killed without even so much as a second thought.

O'Neill wasn't the man his team thought he was. He was a cold blooded murderer. What was the difference between walking into the Quad downtown and shooting ten people or going into battle and taking the life of ten soldiers? It didn't matter how it was done it was still the same act. He willingly took the life of other men.

Jack paused at a street corner, looking up, trying to seek out the stars in the murky night sky. It had started snowing again. The clock at the bank across the road flashed the time followed by the temperature ‹ '5' degrees. For the first time bone numbing cold sank in, leaving Jack standing in the middle of the street, shivering.

"Massachusetts Boulevard," Jack said aloud. He was in the run down end of town - the opposite side from his own home. Jack turned around and head back in the direction he had come from. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Jack turned up the collar of his long-sleeve flannel shirt. Not once looking at his tainted hands.

Jack winced as he heard and felt the strong bass from a car coming down the road. He hated cars like that. The bass made his head pound and his ears ache. He ducked his head, squinting his eyes against the bright headlights of the approaching car. He kept his head down and hugged the walls of the buildings hoping they would pass him by without notice.

No such luck.

*~*~*~*~*

An incessant ringing woke Sarah O'Neill from a peaceful sleep. Rolling over she blindly slapped at the alarm before realizing it was the phone.

'This had better be important!' she thought as she fumbled with the receiver.

"'erm uh'llo" she muttered, her eyes dropping shut

"Is this Sarah O'Neill?" asked the voice at the other end of the line.

"Yup, what can I do for you?" Sarah mumbled back, yawning and snuggling down into the blankets.

"This is Anita Howard at Colorado Springs Regional Medical Centre. I'm calling in regards to a Johnathon O'Neill who was brought in a short while agoŠ."

*~*~*~*~*

"Sarah, where are you going?" Mike, her father, asked a few minutes later, leaning against the doorway of his room. "It's quarter to four in the morning."

"Jack's been hurt. The hospital just called and asked for me to come down there," Sarah answered struggling with the laces on her left shoe.

Mike grunted in response and turned back into his room. Jack wasn't exactly on his good list at the moment. He was still upset about the death of his grandson and even more so with Jack for not being there for Sarah afterwards.

"I'll call you later Dad and let you know what's happened," Sarah hollered as she all but ran down the stairs, grabbing her coat and purse on the way out the door.

*~*~*~*~*

Sarah paced back and forth in the ER waiting room wringing her hands. They hadn't told her anything other than that a doctor or nurse would come and find her as soon as they had any information. Sarah wondered on the way to the hospital why they had called her and not his commander. Apparently she was still listed as next of kin and Jack didn't have any military ID on him. It made her wonder had happened. Jack never took his dog tags off; it was as if they were welded on.

Sarah stopped pacing long enough to look at her watch. An hour had passed since her arrival and still nothing. The waiting had always been the worst. Her heartbeat quickened every time a doctor or nurse passed the doorway. No news had come. Unbidden and unwanted the old irrational fear returned. The news was bad and nobody had remembered that she was here... still waiting.

Heaving a sigh, Sarah turned and made her way back towards the admitting desk. She was going to get answers.

"Excuse me!" Sarah demanded, leaning over the counter at the desk.

"Ma'am, if you'll just wait for a minute"

"I've waited sixty minutes!" Sarah yelled slamming her fist on the counter, doing a fair imitation of her ex husband.

"Look ma'am, I'm sorry," The clerk replied none too kindly, holding out a clipboard. "You'll have to wait your turn. Fill out the paper work and someone will call you when it's your turn."

"I've already filled out your forms. I want to know."

"Mrs. Sarah O'Neill?" Sarah was cut off by a young man in green scrubs.

"Yes," she turned and walked toward the doctor

"If you'll come with me?" He held the door open for her to pass.

"I'm Doctor Jeff Schnipper," he introduced himself before leading her down the hallway.

"How is Jack?" Sarah asked before he got another word out of his mouth.

"Mrs. O'Neill, your husband was severely beaten and shot." Dr. Schnipper paused outside the door to the room where Jack was. "From what the police said that was after he apparently broke one of his assailant's arms and knocked another one unconscious."

"He never was one to go down without a fight," Sarah mused, looking in the window behind the young doctor.

"He's got some cracked and broken ribs. One of the broken ribs punctured his lung. There's severe bruising to his abdomen and lower back but no sign of internal bleeding; we are monitoring his kidney function to make sure there's no problem there."

"You said he was shot?" She asked still looking through the window.

"Yes in the lower leg. The bullet broke one of the bones and requires surgery. Unfortunately, Mr. O'Neill will have to wait a little while until that can happen. We had a six car pile up come through here and the ORs are full of more serious patients."

Sarah stepped closer to the window that over-looked the room. There were a couple of other beds as well. Nurses fiddled about and another doctor checked on his patients. She immediately spotted Jack, though it wasn't hard as he wasn't too far from the window. She raised her right hand and pressed it to the glass. Memories of another time and place came up, drowning out the doctor's voice as he spoke on explaining in greater detail Jack's injuries.

"Ma'am," Dr. Schnipper tried to get her attention when it was clear that she was no longer with him.

"Ma'am." He touched her shoulder lightly

"Yes, I'm sorry," Sarah shook her head, trying to banish the memories and unsuccessfully hiding the tears that they brought forth.

"Would you like to sit with him?" He asked softly, gesturing towards the door.

Sarah, unable to answer, nodded her head yes. Dr. Schnipper led her into the room and over to Jack's bed. He pulled a chair over for her and nodded to the nurse on his way out.

Sarah gasped at the sight that reached her eyes. It had been a very long time since she had seen Jack in such a position. Most of the time he came home with bandages or a cast. She rarely ever saw him in the hospital. There was an oxygen mask covering his face, wires and tubes that went to various body parts were everywhere.

Reaching forward she clasped Jack's hand in her own mindful of the IV. Though he would never admit it, the one thing that Jack wanted most when he was hurt or sick was touch. He craved it, the same way that Sara had craved ice cream and pickles while pregnant. Anything, from a simple pat on the arm to fingers running through his hair.

"God Jack, how did you get yourself into this mess?" Sara whispered.

She let her eyes roam over the rest of his exposed body, taking note of scars where there once were none. The scar above his left eye was stitched up again. His hair was turning grey. Silver strands peppered through the soft light brown hair. 'He's too young to be going grey' Sarah thought as she continued to stroke through his hair. It didn't change anything. He was just as handsome if not more as the day she met and fell in love with him.

Jack often joked that Charlie would give him grey hair. They would come trooping in the back door hot, sweaty, laughing, occasionally muddy or bloody and plop into chairs at the kitchen table. Charlie would make Kool-Aid, or as Jack loved to call it "Bug Juice", and Jack would complain about how he was too old to be doing this sort of thing. Somehow Charlie always ended up with his fingers red, blue or once green from the Kool Aid. Sara chuckled slightly at the fond memory.

Sara looked up at Jack's face. He was stirring, muttering incomprehensibly. He tried to move, moaning aloud at the pain the movement caused.

"Hey, it's okay." Sara stood and leaned on the railing to get closer. "Don't try to move."

Jack wasn't sure what was going on. He couldn't think straight - it was like all of his thoughts had suddenly turned into slurpees from the 7-11. Ignoring her advice, he tried to shift once again and failed. Moaning again he let his head turn into the fingers that were stroking his temple. His eyes opened slightly, peering blearily at the face in front of him.

"'air?..wa.. ap in?" Jack asked agitated, trying to move more, his fight or flight instinct kicking in.

"Hey, hey calm down Jack. You're okay," Sara said a little louder, hoping to catch Jack's attention and calm his panic.

"Car'r" Sara saw Jack blink as he tried to focus his eyes on her

"No, it's me Sara."

"Why?" Jack was puzzled. What was Sara doing in the infirmary?

"The hospital called me. They said that you got roughed up pretty bad," Sara explained

"..think?" Jack asked, the familiar expression causing Sara to smile.

Jack lifted his hand to touch Sara's cheek. "Sorry," he breathed - so softly Sara wasn't sure she'd heard him.

"Jack?"

"Know you," his eyes drifted shut but flew open again as he tried to stay conscious. "Know you hate hospitalsŠ"

Sara clasped his hand in her own and squeezed tightly.

"I don't hate hospitals, Jack. I hate for people IŠ care about to be hurting." She brought the back of her free hand to her nose sniffing. Closing her eyes Sara tried to stop the rest of the tears from spilling forth.

"Excuse me ma'am but we have to take Mr. O'Neill to surgery now," a short auburn headed nurse said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Sara nodded her head sniffing and trying to blink the tears from her eyes. She walked along the side of the gurney, not letting go of Jack's hand until they reached the elevator. She stood unmoving in the hallway staring at the shut doors.

"Mrs. O'Neill?" The same nurse from a few minutes ago reappeared. "If you'll follow me I'll take you to the surgical waiting room."

"Has someone contacted the base?" Sara asked following the nurse into the elevator.

"The base?"

"Yes, he's stationed at Cheyenne Mountain"

"No ma'am. We didn't know he was military. All we found on him was his driver's license and an emergency contact card with your number on it," the nurse replied hurriedly hitting the button for the correct floor.

"Someone should call and inform the duty officer. They'll need to know."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry we are all very busyŠ" the nurse started to get agitated, the toll of the recent hours showing.

"I'll call then." Sara said not wanting to listen to the litany as the elevator doors opened. "If you just show me to a phone I'll take care of it."

"Thank you. You can use the phone here at the nurses' station. Nancy can get you the number for the mountain." Sara followed the nurse over to the nurses' station.

*~*~*~*~*

Jack shoved his hands deep into his pockets and meandered down the drab hallway. Well, as deep as he could get them to go. His hip pockets on his BDU trousers weren't near as deep as the ones of his favourite jeans. Why was he so fascinated with pockets anyway? And why was he having this conversation with himself.

He hated times like this. He'd been here too many times. The nothingness when you're not sleeping but you're not awake either. And you can't do either one if you wanted to. It was kind of a limbo thing where your faith was decided and you didn't always have a say it in. It was kind of like you parents asking where you have been then telling you that they don't want to know.

The atrocious smell of burnt flesh and blood blind-sided him. Without warning everything began to change. Then the drab corridor, which he had been idly strolling down, morphed into Novara.

Jack suddenly found himself in the middle of the horrific scene that SG-1 had found themselves in two days ago. The Novaran village had been pillaged. Come to find out later by the neighbouring village; that were against any outsiders coming in. Nothing was left. All of the buildings destroyed. The last embers of the fires were still glowing. Bodies littered the now abandoned streets.

SG-1 began to search for any survivors, knowing that there were probably none. Jack and Carter turned the corner, heading toward the town square. Jack, walking a couple of feet ahead of Carter, stopped dead in his tracks at what was before his eyes. Adrianna's body was in the middle of the square, the Colonel's hat clutched in her now lifeless fingers.

Adrianna was the leader's daughter who had taken an instant liking to Jack. Followed him everywhere and asking questions constantly. When SG-1 had to leave Adrianna had latched herself on to Jack's leg refusing to let go. Eventually he had given her his hat saying that he would have to come back to get it. She had never gone far without it since that day

Jack knelt next to the little girl, brushing the hair out of her face. Another senseless death because of him. More blood on his hands. Another black mark on his soul. Jack took off his pack and vest, setting them on the ground. Slowly removing his jacket he covered the little girl's face. Unable to stand the sight and the smell any longer Jack jumped to his feet and fled.

Carter stayed back, unable to move. She knew as well as Jack what was meant by Adriana's body being in the middle of the square with the Colonel's cap in her hands. She watched silently as her CO suddenly fled the square ducking behind a nearby building where the unmistakable sounds of retching could be heard.

*~*~*~*~*

Jack slowly came back to his senses. He recognized several things at first. The familiar beeping sound of a heart monitor, the swoosh followed by tight pressure on his arm from the blood pressure cuff and the annoying tickle at his nose from an oxygen cannula. Swallowing cautiously as if not sure what to expect, he became aware of the unpleasant aftertaste of anesthetic. He wasn't quite sure what had happened. His thoughts were all muggy.

Opening his eyes Jack immediately noticed that the room was different. The walls were a pale green and the ceiling was white with dark brown speckles, a far cry from the dull grey of the SGC infirmary. And there was a window. The infirmary definitely didn't have windows that looked outside. He let his eyes roam around the room, taking stock of his new unfamiliar environment. His eyes stopped when he spied a familiar figure slumped in the chair next to his bed.

He stared at her for a long minute before his brain finally decided to give him a name for the person. Sara.

What was she doing here? Better yet, what was he doing here? If he was hurt on a mission how come he wasn't in the SGC Infirmary? Or if he was in the Academy Hospital, how come his team wasn't with him? From what he could see he didn't look like he was injured bad enough to be sent there. His chest felt sore and his left leg felt sort of disconnected from the rest of his body.

Hadn't he been in the SGC Infirmary earlier? He remembered waking up and seeing a blond head. Carter had blond hair. Or maybe he was just imagining it, after all anesthetic did some weird things to you.

Jack let his thoughts fall back to Sara again. He couldn't fathom what she would be doing sitting at his side. She had obviously been there a while judging by her dishevelled appearance. If something had happened why was she there and not his team? If he was injured off world surely his team would be there. But Jack distinctly recalled returning to the SGC from Novara physically unharmed. So what had happened?

Jack fought to stay awake but was losing the battle fast. His eyes were getting heavy and he could feel the warm tendrils of pain medication working their way through his veins. Deciding that he would try to figure everything else out later he finally gave in. Allowing himself to sink into the warm safe abyss of nothingness

It was late that evening before Jack woke again, leisurely opening his eyes. He really didn't want to wake up. He was nice and comfortable the way he was. His body wasn't aching like it always seemed to do these days. It took him a minute to recognize his surroundings. He still didn't know where he was, but he was in the same place he remembered last.

"Shit." Jack tried to shift into a more comfortable position only to gasp slightly and screw his eyes shut as his injuries and several other things made their presence noticed.

"I wouldn't move if I were you."

Jack opened his eyes back up and turned his head to the left. Sara was sitting there with a small smile on her face.

"Wha?" was all Jack managed to get out of his parched throat.

"Here, the nurse left some ice chips a few minutes ago when she came by on rounds. She guessed that you would be waking up soon," Sara explained feeding him a spoonful of the ice chips.

Jack accepted them without question, his still fuzzy mind trying to put all the pieces back together. He let the ice chips melt on his tongue, swallowing every so often while he did a mental check again. Leg hurt but not too bad, chest was tight and sore, and his head ached some also. He could feel the IV needles in his hand as well as the dreaded catheter.

Jack silently accepted another spoonful of ice chips as he worked on putting his memories back in place. He remembered returning from Novara and leaving the base to go home. He remembered waking up in this room earlier. Sara was here asleep in the chair. But he still didn't know where 'here' was.

"Where?" Jack asked barely above a whisper, feeling slightly embarrassed that that was the only word he could get out. It seemed woefully inadequate considering the circumstances. It's not everyday you wake up in a hospital with your ex-wife, who you hadn't seen in a couple months, sitting at your bedside.

"You're at the Colorado Springs Regional Medical Centre," Sara answered letting Jack take the lead.

Jack thought for a moment. If he was here, that meant that whatever had happened had nothing to do with the SGC.

"Why?" he asked, accepting another spoonful of ice chips.

"You don't remember?" She set the cup down on the side table before continuing. "You were badly beaten and you were shot."

Jack looked back at her, his face a picture of confusion. That all changed quickly as the memories of what happened fell back into place. The mission to Novara, Adrianna's charred lifeless-body clutching his cap in the town square. The debriefing back at the base, the false reassurances from his team, the General, and even Doc Fraiser.

The blood was on *his* hands. It was his fault. He had been the one that convinced Abrom to go ahead with the treaty signing. If he hadn't done that the neighbouring village wouldn't have burnt everything and killed everyone.

"Dr. Schnipper said that you broke one of your assailant's arms and knocked another one unconscious," Sara continued passing on what little information she knew.

He would have killed those two boys if the third one hadn't shot him. People died around him. It was a simple fact. Directly or indirectly, intentional or unintentional, it made no difference in the long run. Dead was dead. Jack closed his eyes, turning his head away from Sara. Maybe if he ignored her she would go away. Maybe she would be spared any more grief on his part.

Sara sat there staring at him, watching the emotions playing across his face. She prayed that he wouldn't close up. That maybe for once he would give her some clue as to what was affecting him so badly.

"God Jack, they nearly killed you." Sara went off at him as she saw him shut down and turn away from her, the emotional upheaval of the day catching up with her. "What the hell were you thinking walking around that part of town in the middle of the night? That was stupid even for you!"

Neither of them spoke a word after Sara's outburst. Jack stayed looking at the opposite wall his hands clenching and unclenching the blankets. He was desperately trying to get all of his emotions under control at the same time, hoping that Sara would leave so that he couldn't hurt her. But at the same time he didn't want to be left alone.

Sara sat slumped in her chair looking totally defeated. Even after all this time she still loved that man and it broke her heart to see him hurting. He had suffered so much pain at the hands of fate and it looked like he had been dealt yet another hand. The night nurse came by on rounds and Sara excused herself, using the time to check in with her dad and to get something to eat.

When she returned the nurse was gone and Jack appeared to be asleep. His head had lolled to the right and his face was completely lax. The tray table, off to the side, held the remains of the soup and Jell-o Jack had been given. Sara rearranged her chair, one of the hospital's poor imitations of a recliner, next to the bed again. Once settled she snaked her arm through the railing, taking Jack's hand in her own, stroking her thumb gently across the back.

"A'ri'na" Jack muttered twisting restlessly, causing his hand to come loose from Sara's grasp.

The action caused Sara to rouse from the light doze she had fallen into. Blinking she tried to clear her eyes as she recalled what was going on. Looking over she recognized immediately that Jack was wrapped up in a nightmare.

"Shhhhh, it's okay. You're safe and everyone is okay too." Sara whispered, placing her other hand against the side of Jack's face. She stayed calm and relaxed while she kept talking to him, hoping that Jack would calm down and fall back asleep.

Sara let out a satisfied groan as she stood and stretched popping her back. Jack had thankfully settled back down without incident. Walking around the small room Sara worked out the rest of the kinks and cramps from having dozed in the uncomfortable recliner.

"I killed them," Jack mumbled wearily

Sara stopped in mid step, unsure of what she had heard. Pivoting around, she looked over to the only other person in the room.

"I killed them," Jack said again, his eyes open, slightly glazed over from the medication

"No Jack, the boys that attacked you are still alive. You didn't kill them," Sara said evenly, walking over next to the bed.

"Not them," Jack replied, his eyes clearing up.

"AdriannaŠtheyŠtheyŠ" Jack stopped as the memories assaulted him again

Jack found himself sucked into a whirlwind of memories: the crackle of burning wood, the moans of those not dead but too far gone to save, the veil of smoke that hung in the air

"Jack, are you okay?" Sara cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping the touch would grab his attention

Time stood still for Jack as he knelt next to the little girl, brushing the hair out of her face. Another senseless death because of him. More blood on his hands. Another black mark on his soul. Jack felt his stomach churn from the spicy-sweet scent of the burnt sandalwood trees mingled with the sickening smell of burnt flesh. Slowly removing his jacket he covered the little girl's face. Unable to stand the sight and the smell any longer Jack jumped to his feet and fled.

Jack jumped suddenly, finding himself back in his hospital room. He fought the bout of nausea as the events of Novara played over again in his head. It was all still so very real. The sights and sounds. And that god-awful sickening sweet smell that had permeated the air. Jack made the mistake of taking a deep breath in effort to quail his stomach. Assaulted by the antiseptic smell, the soup and jello he had eaten earlier made a reappearance.

Sara tried to move out of the way as Jack started to throw up but didn't make it. She reached over and put an arm across his chest and the other rubbing his back. Sara looked around for the call button, finding it hanging off the other side of the bed. Reaching over she snagged the cord and pulled it up so that she could hit the button.

Jack wrapped his arms around his stomach pleading for the painful spasms to stop. There was nothing left in his stomach but he couldn't stop heaving. He was aware of Sara's arm across his chest holding him up and of her rubbing his back. His chest and stomach were on fire, and his head was pounding. The spasms started to ease and Jack took a deep breath to ease the burning in his lungs, and the spasms started again.

Sara stepped out of the way when the nurse and doctor came into the room. She watched pensively from the other side of the room as they worked, the doctor calling out orders. Sara nearly jumped out of her skin when a nurse put a hand on her arm to get her attention. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be led out of the room while the doctors and the other nurses got Jack sorted out.

*~*~*~*~*

Sara leaned against the doorjamb and just watched him. Jack was in a somewhat seated position, one arm wrapped around his middle and the other poking at the food on his tray. The TV was on, some noon newscaster talking softly in the background. She had gone home the night before after making sure that Jack had got settled back in after the severe bout of nausea.

"I knew I should have snuck something in," she commented walking in. "It would have saved that food from torture."

"I'm the one being tortured," Jack muttered leaning back, letting the fork clatter to the tray.

Sara gave a small chuckle and sat down in the chair. "You sound like you're feeling better today."

"Feel like I got ran over by an Abrams tank," he said running a hand gently over the side of his face. Even without looking he knew that the bruises were out in full technicolour. "Probably look like it, too."

"Well, purple really never suited you."

Jack snorted but said nothing, letting the conversation drop. Picking up the fork again he pushed the 'food' around on his tray. The incessant drone of the reporters on CNN and the occasional scrape of the fork on the tray were the only sounds in the room. He had been able to put most of the events of the last couple of days in order and make sense of them. He had yet to figure out why Sara was there, but he was grateful for the company, even if he would never admit it.

Sara took her eyes off the TV and looked over at Jack. He was looking worse yet better then he had the day before. The bruises, now in full colour, had blossomed to cover most of his face, arms, and what she should see of his chest. His left leg was encased in a cast and elevated by pillows. Sara let her eyes roam to his face. Even as bruised as it was she could still read it. Jack had closed himself off again. She saw it happen the previous day when he had remembered what happened. It was the same look that she had seen after Charlie died.

"Why did you quit?" Sara asked causing Jack's head to shoot up.

'Damn' Jack thought, staring at her in shock. How did she know that he had resigned? That he had given his letter of resignation to Hammond. The general hadn't accepted it though, instead telling Jack to take some time off then decide. Shaking his head, he turned away from her and closed his eyes.

"Did it have something to do with Adrianna?" she pushed harder, seeing him retreat.

"Yes" he whispered, so soft that Sara couldn't hear him.

"Who is she Jack?" Sara asked quietly as she reached out to touch his arm "What happened to make you quit a job that you loved?"

Jack peered at her through slightly blurry eyes. Even after all these year she still knew him.

"I can't do it any more," Jack finally admitted letting his gaze drop to stare at his hands.

"Can't do what?" Sara pressed hoping that maybe this time she would get something out of him.

He held up his hands in front of him, wincing as the movement pulled on his sore ribs.

"I kill people." Idly, Jack wondered if Sara could see the blood on his hands. The blood of the people he had killed with those hands. Blood of people that had died just by knowing him.

How could he make her understand? He was not the man everyone thought he was. He consciously chose to take the lives of others.

Sara sat silently, watching the emotions play across his face. She was shocked that Jack was talking. That he hadn't closed himself down all the way and refused to talk. It was rare when Jack let his guard down. She remained quiet so as not to disturb Jack's line of thought. It was very rare that Jack ever talked and in the back of her mind she wondered why he chose now to talk and why to her?

"I am not who people think I am. I am a murderer. I kill people. I am no different from the people in prison."

"I mean, what is the difference between walking into the Quad downtown and shooting ten people or going into battle and taking the life of ten soldiers? Either way it is murder," Jack finished.

Sara a sucked in a deep breath and started to talk. "The difference is, is that you didn't enjoy it. You don't kill indiscriminately. You kill because you have to, you have no choice. You kill to protect the innocent and those who cannot protect themselves." She reached forward grabbing a hold of his hand. "Jack you didn't enjoy taking someone's life. You did it because you had no other choice."

"You always have a choice," Jack countered not wanting to let her reasoning sink in.

"Not always, Jack," sighed Sara. "Not always." She squeezed his hand lightly before continuing. "Listen, Jack. You've been dealt some hard hands in the game of fate but you've managed to overcome them before. Don't let this one hand bring you down. Nothing that I can say or do will fix this. We can't control what other people do. We can't change what has been done in the past. All we can do is forgive and move on with life."

"I can't do that," Jack said pulling his hand from hers and closing his eyes. "I can't forgiveŠsome things just can't be forgiven."

"Yes, you can. You are a strong, brave, selfless, loyal, caring, passionate, loving man. You loved to laugh, you loved life." Sara looked at Jack before speaking again. "You need to start to forgive yourself, Jack. Stop holding things so deep inside that they fester and end up eating you alive."

"I..I..I just can't." Jack left his eyes closed, unable to look at her.

"If you can forgive other people then you can forgive yourself. And I know it's easier said than done, but it is something that you need to do Jack. Forgive yourself so that you can move on."

The sound of the TV fell on deaf ears as they sat there silently. Sara reached forward again, placing her hand on top of Jack's. She was surprised when he didn't pull away but turned his hand over, gripping her hand. Sara looked up at Jack's face, his eyes were tightly shut, and his mouth was set in a tight line. She didn't say anything, just sat there letting him hold on. It wasn't long before a nurse came in on rounds. The nurse smiled warmly at Sara as she started her checks, explaining as she went along. Jack opened his eyes but didn't do anything more than what was necessary. When the nurse left, taking the uneaten lunch tray, Jack let his eyes fall shut again succumbing to the effects of the time released medications.

Seeing that Jack was asleep Sara tried to extricate her hand from his. Jack stirred at the movement, his eyes opened slightly and he tightened his grip.

"Stay. Please?" Jack pleaded, barely more then a whisper.

"Okay Jack, I'll stay." Sara agreed returning his grip and running her other hand gently through his hair. "Shhhhhh. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

*~*~*~*~*

Jack came back to consciousness to the sound of people talking. He recognized Sara's voice but couldn't quite place the other one. It sounded familiar. Jack let it drop thinking it was probably just a nurse on rounds. He took another mental check of his body, finding everything was pretty much the same. Jack tried to open his eyes but found while his mind was wide-awake, his body hadn't quite caught up yet.

Jack tried opening his eyes again and was successful. Looking around he saw Sara. Daniel, who must have been the other voice, was there also. They were engrossed in some court show on TV, making sarcastic comments.

"Now that's what Judge Joe Brown calls a 'Shade Tree Mechanic,'" Jack said causing both of them to jump slightly.

"Jack!" Daniel turned around in his chair. "You're awake! How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, Daniel." Jack gave Daniel a small smile.

"Sam and Murray are still at the base. We were really worried Jack. We got the message but we couldn't get off the base," Daniel explained in a rush.

Daniel stood up giving Jack's shoulder a quick pat. "I'll be right back. I'll go and call them and tell them you're awake."

Sara laughed slightly as Daniel nearly ran from the room to call the base.

"You have some great friends, Jack." Sara gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Whether you realize it or not they care a great deal about you. Don't shut them out, let them help you, Jack."

"I know but..."

"They understand a lot more then you think. They have been worried sick the last two days. Give them a shot Jack"

Jack nodded returning the grip on her hand.

"Now I'm gonna get out of here for now. Your team needs to be here." Sara stood up picking up her jacket and bag. "I'll check in see how you are doing in a couple of days."

Jack reached out and grabbing her hand before she could get away.

"Thanks." He paused looking for the words. "ForŠ everything."

"You're welcome." Sara leaned over kissing the side of his cheek. "Take care, Jack."

He watched her leave and letting his thoughts drift back to their earlier conversation. Maybe she was right. After all if she could forgive him for what happened to their son, then maybe he could forgive some things as well.

'But never forget,' Jack vowed silently to himself.

finis