PART 12
Sighing as deeply as her ribs would let her, she tried to shake it off. She was tired. Whatever those feelings were that were bugging her, they would have to wait. First thing she needed was sleep. She hadn�t really slept much in the last four weeks.
Opening the duffle the Colonel had dropped on the bed, Sam giggled. All of her clothes were neatly packed, still folded pristinely on the bottom of the bag. Everything that is, except for her bras and underwear. The Colonel had obviously kept his promise about not looking through her underwear drawer. On top of the neatly folded clothes, her undergarments were literally stuffed into the bag.
Cautiously, using her left hand with her right, she slowly undressed. She reached for a t-shirt on top of the bag and slid it over her head gingerly, feeling the tightness where her ribs were in the process of healing. She sighed a little deeper and felt no pain, just a strong tug.
Her ribs were almost healed. That was good. It would be difficult literally living with the Colonel cracking jokes and snide comments. Half the time they weren�t funny, but it was all in his delivery. Not laughing in the coming days did not seem to be an option.
She smiled at the memory of the �Boo-boo bunny� comment. She�d been feeling pretty sorry for herself up to that point when he�d said it, but he�d joked her into laughing and she appreciated it. �Jack O�Neill really is a good man to have around,� she admitted silently.
After moving her bag cautiously to the dresser and quickly unpacking, she gingerly slid under the sheets and almost instantly fell asleep.
Sam felt herself floating back into consciousness. She kept her eyes closed and listened. Where was he, exactly? Had Jake left or was he just lying in wait until she woke up so he could start his assault all over again?
She amazed herself sometimes. Even with the amount of pain and terror she was feeling, her military training was still at work.
As she listened, she heard Jake whistling in the bathroom as if nothing untoward had happened. She could hear the water running. Jake was in the shower.
She moved to struggle against the �cuffs and found, to her great surprise that she was free. Her left arm hurt like a bitch, most likely broken. Taking a slow breath, she assessed her injuries through the haze. There was too much pain everywhere. She was in bad shape. That much she knew.
Suddenly realizing she was wasting time, Sam tried to open her eyes. She tried to move her legs and felt nothing but pain. Every movement she made was pure torture. She successfully stifled a groan as she lifted her battered body into a semi-sitting position. She could barely see from her left eye. The right one was so swollen and sore, she couldn�t even open it.
She heard the water go off in the other room. She only had a few more moments to escape. It was her only chance, but she couldn�t move.
Suddenly she saw her sidearm lying on the bedside table. The pain was making the edges of what was left of her vision gray out. She needed to grab the gun, but she couldn�t get the arm closest to it to work. She glanced down and saw the strange angle of her arm � yes, definitely broken. She painfully reached across her own body. The pain was unbearable.
Glancing at the gun, almost willing it to move to her, she saw the picture of her team sitting on the nightstand right behind the gun. Seeing the picture of her �family� cleared her vision as she fought through the pain and reached for the gun and swung it toward the door just as Jake came into the room.
He stopped when he saw the gun unsteadily pointing at him
�Don. . . Muv,� Sam slurred, �Kill . . . you.�
She knew by the searing pain that she could chalk up one more injury to recover from. Jake had broken her jaw.
�Now Samantha, darling,� Jake drawled placatingly, �Why ever would you want to kill me?�
Sam struggled to keep the gun pointed at his chest as waves of nausea roiled in her stomach. She could see that behind his bravado, he was afraid of her shooting him, but she was beyond the point of caring.
�Stay �way!� she yelled as he took another step closer, �Leave . . . me . . . alone!�
He took yet another step closer to her, and then she shot him. She watched him look down at the hole in the center of his chest. She watched him watch the blood start to ooze out of that hole and trail down his body. He looked back up at her, a look of confusion, fear and anger covering his face.
�You bitch!� he gurgled as he dropped to his knees, �You shot me.�
As his eyes began to show the vacancy of death, Sam closed her eyes and slipped into oblivion, the pistol still clutched in her right hand.
Jack heard her scream and was off the couch and outside her door in a heartbeat. He had known to expect the nightmares. He�d gone through it himself when he�d come back from Iraq. Sara had been there to comfort him, but he�d shut down and shut her out.
Daniel had gone through it, too. Jack had made a nuisance of himself and spent a lot of time getting Daniel through the nightmares and terrors. He�d been such a pain in the ass that Daniel had finally relented, letting Jack in.
Now Sam was going through it. Doc Frasier had told him that Sam had been having bad dreams all the time she�d been in the hospital, but she�d been so sedated that she�d slept through them. Without the drugs completely knocking her out, she was going to start remembering and waking from those dreams.