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A Time to Heal

A Time To Heal - Part One:

Thursday: Just A Dream Away

On Thursday evening, Jack caught a cab to the diner and by the time he
had settled into a booth he was beginning to feel like an excited
teenager on his first date. It was ridiculous really, all they were going
to do was have a cup of coffee together and talk. For a start he planned
to apologise for his behaviour almost two weeks before, for causing Sara
worry, not to mention her being woken up by the police in the middle of
the night because of him.

When Sara arrived, dead on time, she looked as beautiful to Jack as the
day they had met. She was dressed simply in washed out blue jeans and
brown leather ankle boots, a white t-shirt, with a pale lemon sweater
over the top, left loose and unbuttoned. She took one look at him and
smiled so brightly he felt his heart ache despite everything he had
promised to himself beforehand. All his resolve seemed to crumble in the
face of her attention.

"Jack, you look great!" Sara exclaimed when he stood up to greet her,
practically examining him from head to toe. "You look so much better than
when I last saw you," she emphasised, "And you've had the cast off your
hand!" Jack waggled his fingers a fraction to demonstrate the returning
movement. "That's wonderful!" she declared happily, sitting down in the
booth and watching him retake his seat opposite her.

Jack carefully avoided bashing his ribs against the edge of the table,
whilst trying to make sure that Sara didn't notice he was favouring that
side.

"A few leftover bruises I see, and you still need to gain some weight,
but you've lost that haunted look," she added almost shyly, gazing into
his brown eyes.

"Well, I aim to please," Jack quipped lightly, somewhat overwhelmed by
her reaction to seeing him again. "Sara, look," he paused, searching for
words that would reflect his sincerity, "I wanted to apologise for what I
put you through the other weekend."

"Jack, you don't have to apologise for anything," Sara said softly,
laying her fingers over the strapping on his right hand and patting it
gently.

Jack held her gaze, covering her hand with his left, entwining his
fingers with hers, soaking up the moment while it lasted and storing
every detail into memory.

"So, do you want coffee?" he asked eventually.

                         *******************

"Mineral water! Since when?" Sara exclaimed softly after the waitress had
left their table, gazing at him with such a look of wide eyed wonder it
stopped Jack in his tracks, forcing him to swallow the dishonest excuse
he had been about to give her, the one where he blamed Daniel for
badgering him into kicking the caffeine habit.

Instead Jack shrugged, knowing he couldn't lie to her and didn't have to.
"I haven't drunk coffee for about seven weeks," he admitted a little
sheepishly.

Sara looked at him closely, concern in her eyes. "Was that
before.......?" she trailed off, knowing the answer from the
uncomfortable squirming of his shoulders.

Jack nodded, breaking eye contact to stare out the window into the
darkened street beyond the diner. "Daniel thinks it's the one good thing
that came out of it!" he said eventually, trying to smile at the thought.

"How are things with you and Daniel?"

"Okay, actually," Jack said, brightening up, "We had a long talk Tuesday
night. Things are pretty much back to normal there I think."

"He seems a good person, a little too serious maybe." Sara smiled,
recalling her encounter with the earnest man, "He certainly cares about
you, but I kind of got the impression the feeling is mutual......"

Jack nodded thoughtfully, "Can't fault the guy that saves my life, can
I?"

"Well I'm glad you got things sorted between you, he seemed so guilty
about it all, like he blamed himself for whatever had happened." She
watched him closely, testing for his reaction, wanting to see how well he
was really handling things.

"Yeah, there's been a lot of that going around lately," Jack said
quietly, glancing away from her again, "But I think we pretty much dealt
with it all the other night."

Sara took another look at his face, the dark shadows beneath his soft
brown eyes, detecting the weariness there which she hadn't spotted
before. "Must have been a long night. No wonder you look tired."

Before Jack had to answer the waitress came back with their drinks. "Do
you want anything to eat?" he asked quickly.

Sara thought for a moment. "Yes, wouldn't mind actually. I have to go
into work later, I could do with something beforehand." She turned to the
waitress, "I'll just have a cheeseburger please."

Both women glanced at Jack, waiting for him to add his order. He didn't
really want anything, but he knew he would have to, or face a new
onslaught of questions. "Tuna on plain rye, please," he finally decided
reluctantly.

The waitress had written down the order and left before Jack acknowledged
Sara's look of astonishment somewhat sheepishly. "Can't face fried food
anymore," he shrugged, as though it was the most natural thing in the
world for him not to order his normal half a cow in some greasy form or
other. "Actually, I'm not doing very well with any meat at the moment,"
he added feebly, wondering why he seemed incapable of coming up with any
good excuses in the face of her penetrating blue eyed gaze.

"What have you been eating lately?" Sara asked gently, beginning to
understand why he didn't appear to have gained much of the lost weight
back on since she last saw him almost two weeks earlier.

"The doctor's got me on protein shakes and iron supplements. Believe me,
once you've had a few of those each day you really don't want to eat
normal food!" Jack said, as if that was an answer to her question. Sara
just continued to stare at him until he gave in and told her the rest.
"Okay, not a whole lot else really, except plenty of milk, apparently I
need the calcium," he attempted a smile. "I just don't seem to have any
appetite lately, no matter how much fresh air and exercise I get, I just
don't get hungry," he eventually admitted.

"Jack you've got to start eating properly again or you'll never get
yourself back on track," Sara said worriedly. She knew she had no right
to quiz him like this, but she was unable to suppress her concern, "What
does the doctor say about it?"

"I think she's relieved that I've stopped drinking coffee and eating
fried food!" Jack tried to lighten the conversation with a grin, finding
the grilling getting way too uncomfortable. "Actually, I had a bruised
kidney and apparently it makes life a bit easier on it if I'm not eating
that sort of stuff," he said honestly, wondering again why he was telling
her all this, why he seemed unable to stop himself in the face of her
attention. "Although, when it's all sorted, Janet's threatened to take me
out for steak and force feed me if necessary!" he quipped.

"Janet?" Sara asked curiously, feeling an odd pang of jealousy at the way
he was talking about this other woman.

"Oh, Doctor Fraiser, she's one of the physicians at the base," Jack
explained, "She's a really good friend, I think you'd like her. She's
saved my life about as many times as Daniel has lately," he added softly,
still amazed by what the doctor had done for him recently, especially the
fact that she had joined forces with Daniel to rescue him from that
hellhole in Giza.

Jack knew he would never be able to repay Janet, all he could really do
was try his best to not cause her any further grief. That meant avoiding
any more unscheduled visits to the infirmary and swallowing all the
protein drinks and supplements she had ordered him to take each day, no
matter how bad they tasted.

"And Daniel's been taking me into the drive-thru every time he gives me a
lift home now, I think he's trying to tempt me to eat a Big Mac! But the
diversion's not such a bad deal, because their banana milkshakes are to
die for!" That last comment finally got Sara smiling again, much to
Jack's relief, and he quickly searched for a way to deflect the
conversation completely while she was distracted, "So you said you have
to go into work later?"

"Yeah, all the guys are out on a stag do tonight, so I promised I'd cover
for them. I have to go straight from here," Sara said, leaning back from
the table as the waitress placed their food in front of them with a
friendly smile and the standard enquiry for whether they needed anything
else. She received the usual "Thanks" and "No thanks" answers for her
troubles, told them she hoped they enjoyed their meal as if she meant it,
and went back behind the counter.

Sara tucked into her cheeseburger with relish, whilst Jack slowly chewed
a single bite from his sandwich before continuing the conversation
smartly to cover his lack of appetite, "You know it's never ceased to
amaze me how you manage to keep up with these odd hours. When did you
sleep today?"

"I had a couple of hours after I got home this afternoon, then I'm off
from tomorrow until next Tuesday, so I can sleep in the morning for as
long as I like." She smiled lazily at that delicious thought, then an
earlier incomplete thread of conversation came to mind, "So how are you
sleeping now?"

Jack stopped short, his mouth around his sandwich, wondering how he'd
managed to choose a topic that backfired onto him that badly. He looked
at his food sourly and placed it back onto the plate, then he brushed the
crumbs from his hand onto his jeans and stared out the window for a
moment, trying to figure out what the real answer was to that question.

"Better actually, you know......," he trailed off, remembering waking up
in the middle of the previous night and giving up on his bed, instead
wandering out onto the deck wrapped warmly in a blanket to sleep out
under the stars. That had worked, for awhile at least. He reckoned he had
probably slept soundly for a couple of hours longer than normal. It
didn't go very far to catching up on all those lost nights, but it was a
start.

"Yeah, it's definitely getting easier," Jack assured her more positively.
He was certainly no longer as afraid to close his eyes and several times
he had not actually been woken by the nightmares. It was about fifty-
fifty at present between waking with a gasp, his heart racing in terror
and the wispy images of violence slowly drifting out of reach, or being
woken by the pain of accidentally rolling over onto his broken ribs.

He had stopped taking the painkillers Doctor Fraiser had prescribed, they
just left him feeling too fuzzy headed and out of control for his liking.
Besides, he was still getting way more exercise, climbing up and down
those stairs at the base, than Janet knew about and he really didn't want
to overexert himself. How would he know he was pushing his luck too far
if he couldn't actually feel any pain he was causing?

But things were improving, of that he was sure, last night when he had
gone out to sleep under the stars he had not woken again until the dawn
chorus had become persistently loud in his ears and the rising sun had
shone directly into his eyes. Jack smiled, relaxing slightly at that
encouraging thought.

Glancing across to Sara, he noticed she was watching him intently, almost
finished with her burger. With renewed effort, he picked up his sandwich
and took another bite, forcing himself to chew and swallow, in between
sips of mineral water, until he had eaten one of the two halves.

"Finish it all and I'll buy you a banana milkshake on your way home!"
Sara laughed at his attempts, "That is assuming you want a lift?"

"I was going to catch a cab," Jack explained, "You really don't have to
go out of your way."

"Come on, Jack, you know your place is practically on my way to work,"
Sara pointed out gently, "It's no trouble at all." Besides, she wouldn't
admit it, but she had a feeling he would walk home otherwise and there
was something about the idea of him wandering through the dark streets
alone that scared her at the moment, something she couldn't quite put her
finger on.

When they were both finished, Jack settled the bill and dutifully
followed Sara out to her vehicle, parked a little way down the road. The
black and chrome paint work of the hood was lit up beneath the glow of a
bright orange street lamp.

Standing on the opposite side of her Jeep, Jack watched Sara push her
unbuttoned sweater out of the way at her waist to delve her hand into her
jeans pocket and extract the car keys. He found himself unable to take
his eyes off her. Sara's figure hugging t-shirt and jeans highlighted
every curve of her body in a way that provoked all sorts of forbidden
thoughts in his head. Ideas that he knew he shouldn't even be having.
Impossible fantasies that tugged at his heart, not to mention other parts
of his anatomy, and left him reeling under a weight of lost opportunity
that was more than he could bear right now.

"You know, I really don't mind catching a cab," Jack offered feebly,
wondering if there was any way out of being forced to sit next to that
body, so close and yet so out of reach in the confines of Sara's soft top
Wrangler Jeep, a vehicle he had never realised looked so sexy until now.
He glanced away, avoiding her gaze, certain that all his lascivious
thoughts were written right across his face for all to see.

Jack stared around, searching for some way to focus his mind on something
other than the idea of running his hands over her body, feeling her silky
skin against his own. His eyes fell on the sight of the shop window she
had parked in front of, a take out delicatessen, offering a long list of
'delicious' lunch snacks including pastrami on rye, burgers, steak
sandwiches......Oh yeah, Jack thought to himself sourly, that'll do it!

"You know I won't bite," Sara laughed softly as she noticed his obvious
reluctance to climb into the vehicle. "And my driving isn't nearly as bad
as you think!" He turned back to look at her with that sheepish
expression that made her heart skip a beat every time he used it.

She smiled to herself, wondering if he had any idea what he was doing to
her tonight, positive that he didn't have a clue. The self-deprecating
way he'd been acting told her he probably hadn't even contemplated the
sight of his own reflection in at least seven weeks.

How could he possibly know the effect he was having on probably any red-
blooded female that passed anywhere near him, and especially the effect
he was having on one who had shared his life for all that time, what
seemed so long ago now. One who remembered the taste of his lips, the
feel of his warm skin against hers, his strong arms around her, the
laughter in his voice and the love in his eyes. Someone who could only
dream of ever having such a relationship again, when all she really
wanted was to be with him.

Sara swallowed, her smile wavering under the impact of the loss she felt
whenever she looked at him, seeing something she would never have again,
struggling to suppress vivid memories that were being sparked by the way
he looked tonight. The way his black jeans were belted at the waist a few
extra notches than normal because of the lost weight, highlighting the
shape of hips that she ached to hold in the depths of passion, long legs
that she wanted to entangle with her own.

She yearned to free his right hand from the strapping that was protecting
it, to feel his long slim fingers touching her skin, trailing fire over
her entire body. She craved to pull his black t-shirt from his jeans, to
raise it up and expose his chest to her soft kisses, to wrap her arms
around his naked body, to feel the strong muscles of his back beneath her
fingertips and to intertwine herself with him until she could no longer
tell where her body ended and his began.

Their eyes met over the roof of her Jeep and, for a moment, Sara could
almost imagine that he was thinking exactly the same thing as her. Then
he broke contact, as if the intensity of their gaze made him
uncomfortable.

With an inward sigh, Sara opened the car door and climbed into the
driver's seat, jamming the keys into the ignition with a slightly
trembling hand.

She started the engine and put the vehicle into gear as Jack finally
settled into the passenger side. Putting his seatbelt on, he tightly
gripped the strap with his left hand, hoping Sara wouldn't notice the way
he was holding the belt away from his ribs, but glad of something to do
with a hand that really just wanted to wander all over her body and
explore every intimate part.

As the Jeep pulled away from the sidewalk, Jack stared out the window,
concentrating on the sight of darkened buildings as they passed, trying
to ignore the ache in his heart that now matched the one in his ribcage.

                         *******************

When Sara dropped him off outside his home, Jack could think of nothing
more to say except "Goodbye". There were no words to express how much he
wanted to see her again, how he wished they could just pick up their
lives as if nothing bad had ever happened to them. And even if he could
find a way to say it, he knew he never would. It would be unfair of him
to even attempt to put Sara into such an awkward position. She had a life
of her own now, she didn't want to get involved with him again, why would
she?

So Jack simply thanked her and said goodbye. He told her to take care and
then closed the door of the Jeep behind him, turning towards the house
before Sara could see the look of misery in his eyes that he could no
longer hide.

Jack fished in his pocket for his door key, trying to find some way to
explain to himself just why he still felt so strongly for her after three
years apart. He heard her vehicle drive away behind him and his heart
sank at the fading sound, knowing that it heralded the final closure of
that part of his life. It signalled the end to any hope he had retained
after arriving home from that first mission to Abydos, with an improved
outlook on life, only to find Sara packed and gone. Jack shook his head
in frustration and jammed his key into the lock to enter his empty house.

Once inside, he grabbed a glass of iced water from the kitchen, opened
the sliding doors in the den to let in some fresh air on the cool late
evening breeze, and gingerly sank down onto the sofa. Unzipping his black
leather boots, he kicked them off, put a cushion behind his head and laid
back tiredly, lifting his feet up onto the arm at the opposite end. He
rubbed his face with his hand, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, and closed
his eyes for a moment, too exhausted and emotionally drained to even try
and stop himself from drifting off into a fitful doze.

If conscious thought had been available to him, even Jack would have been
surprised by the speed in which he reached a dream state. His body curled
up protectively in response, lying on his right side, knees drawn up to
his chest, and arms wrapped tightly around him. Horrified words escaped
his lips, his haunted features contorting with emotion.

"Sara!" Jack murmured again, his left hand clenching into a tight fist,
his whole body taut. In his mind's eye he watched helplessly as the
tragic events unfolded before him.

He saw his wife and their son Charlie, held captive by Apophis to be used
as hosts. The resurgence of a drug induced hallucination, previously
buried deep amidst memories of appalling torture, now pushed to the
surface. The traumatic vision provoked by renewed loss, the psychological
impact of Sara leaving him again, driving away, out of his life for good,
in a manner which Jack had felt powerless to prevent. A painful reality
that now prompted a resumption of that nightmare image, forcing him to
relive the torment of one dreadful grief filled moment.

"Charlie!" Jack cried out in desperate horror. He was trapped, unable to
do anything but watch as a mature Goa'uld larva crawled over his son's
shoulder, preparing to pierce the back of the neck.

The young boy's terror stricken paralysis was abruptly broken and he
stared at his father accusingly. "I hate you! I hate you!" he shouted
ferociously, "Look what you've done to us! This is all your fault!" His
hysterical voice became an agonised shriek as the larva burrowed deep,
puncturing the skin between his shoulder blades to wriggle inside the
body. It wrapped around the spine to take control, unconcerned by the
pain inflicted upon the child host.

With frightening finality, Charlie's eyes glowed luminously as he
succumbed to the power of the new evil within him. The innocent young boy
was gone.

"No!" Jack's hoarse whisper was filled with despair, the intensity of
emotion increasing unbearably as Sara was forced to endure the same fate
as their son.

She held his gaze bravely, resolute, unwilling to show her fear as she
was taken over by the Goa'uld. Her slim fingers dug into her palms, her
mouth clamped firmly shut, determined not to cry out. A single sorrowful
tear escaped down Sara's cheek, her face creasing with pain as the larva
penetrated the back of her neck, violating her body with its abhorrent
presence.

Her once sparkling blue eyes at first went dead and then lit up in a
chilling white blaze that turned Jack's heart to stone. Sara's mind and
body were all too rapidly conquered by the Goa'uld inside her, a loving
smile dying on her lips to be replaced by a blank unrecognising stare.
Her spirit, her whole life, overpowered by something beyond her control.

Tossing and turning in his sleep, Jack screamed his wife's name out loud,
a blood curdling cry filled with anguish. His body shifted heedlessly on
the sofa until one of the loose cushions jammed between the back of the
couch and his side, suddenly pressing hard into his healing ribs.

Jack awoke with a yelp of pain that became a gasp of agony as he sat up
too abruptly, fighting to escape the unearthly images of an horrific
scene floating vividly before his terrified gaze. The sudden movement
left him reeling against the resulting effect on his ribcage.

Holding his arm against his side for support, Jack slid his feet to the
floor, his chest heaving as he struggled to refill his lungs. With a
strangled sob, he buried his head in his hands, wiping dampness from his
face with fingers that shook. Trembling with shock, Jack concentrated on
trying to get his breathing under control, the ache in his ribs helping
to focus beyond a fear so strong that he could taste it, so intense that
his heart was thudding painfully hard.

Desperate to break free from the crushing weight of a nightmare that
threatened to smother him, Jack stood up and moved out through the
sliding doors to sit on the steps leading down into the backyard from the
deck. He shuddered at the sudden drop in temperature, lifting his gaze to
stare up at the stars. Jack let the night sky fill his view, trying to
suppress all cognisant thought as he was hit by a wave of grief for the
loss of his family.

Eventually he could fight it no more. Utterly defeated by an unrelenting
onslaught of images, Jack returned inside, heading for the kitchen. His
resolve destroyed, incapable of stopping himself, he opened cupboards and
the refrigerator, hunting for something specific that in the back of his
mind he could only pray he would not find.

Despondently, Jack stood in the centre of the room, lost and alone. He
had an undying urge to head for the nearest liquor store, now that he
knew there definitely was no alcohol in the house. He guessed that Daniel
had seen to that, presumably some time during that weekend, a little
under two weeks before, when he had taken on the ghastly task of drying
out his commanding officer.

Jack glanced around in despair, seeking some other method to escape the
emotions that threatened to overpower him. He stepped across to the sink
and ran the water until it was icy cold, scooping his left hand beneath
the tap to splash his face and neck repeatedly until he could at least
feign some semblance of control. Shivering, he grabbed a towel and patted
his face dry, hanging it around his neck to soak up the water on the now
damp t-shirt clinging to his shoulders.

For a long time, Jack stood leaning against the sink, staring out into
the dark night, gazing unfocused past his own reflection to see only the
blackness beyond. Finally, he shook himself and turned away from the
window, heading out of the room and down the hall, driven by instinct
alone.

Reaching for the telephone with a hand that still shook slightly, he
dialled a number from memory without allowing himself to think about what
he was really doing.

When the female voice answered, Jack tensed, his mind racing, wondering
what the hell he was planning to say. As the recorded message kicked in,
his first inclination was to hang up, but his dulled reactions simply
weren't fast enough for Sara's few brief but cheery words, the beep had
sounded before he even managed to express his irritation.

"Damn," he muttered, forgetting the tape would pick up every word, not
knowing what to do and feeling foolish for the sound of silence. Jack
hesitated. "Guess you're at work," he said feebly wondering what time it
was. He knew it was dark outside, so of course Sara was still working,
she had told him herself she would not be finished until morning. "Sorry,
um........never mind."

Jack replaced the handset, feeling like an idiot and hoping that maybe
the tape had cut off during his long pause, perhaps fooled by the period
of silence into thinking he had finished his message already. He scrubbed
his hand through his hair, totally lost and downhearted. Eventually, he
grabbed a blanket off the end of a nearby armchair and headed back
outside to try and sleep on the wooden lounger on the deck, praying that
this time it would not end quite so horrifically.

                         *******************

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