Jack sat up in the semi darkness, blinking rapidly to clear the images from his foggy brain. The nightmare that lingered in the corners of the quiet room was different from the others.

He was with his team, standing atop a ridge overlooking a small town comprised of stone buildings. One and two story structures set close together in rings that spiraled towards a much larger building. Daniel compared it to a medieval castle with his characteristic enthusiasm. He favored the younger man with an indulgent half smile before giving the order to approach with caution. No one greeted them as they entered the town and walked along the narrow mud streets. A surreal silence hung over the empty marketplace they encountered. Fires burned in hearths, meat lay across wracks and grillwork. Bunches of herbs hung drying beneath the cloudy sky. It wasn�t the first time they had encountered such a scene and Jack felt the fine hairs on the nape of his neck prickle in warning. They continued their investigation in silence, communicating with hand signal when the need arose.

The attack came swiftly and without warning. Robed figures descended on them from second story windows. They wielded clubs and long metal rods that seared the flesh when they connected. The tall lanky creatures hissed and growled incomprehensible gibberish as they pursued his team through the twisted alleys. Teal�c, Daniel, and Jonas were forced to peel away from Carter and himself. Jack shouted orders into his radio and dove for cover behind a wooden crate as one of the metal rods burned into the market stall behind him. Carter screamed a warning and the air filled with the clatter of weapon�s fire. He rolled onto his aching knees and raised his P90 as one of the figures rounded a stone wall and bore down on her position. The creature squealed and fell to the ground nearly cut in half by his assault. �Got you, you son of a bitch!� Jack grated between clenched teeth.

The world exploded in a fiery wash of pain when something solid connected with the back of his skull�

Jack cleared his throat, banishing the image with effort, as he looked around the empty room. He preferred solitude to the constant yammering of people and equipment in the Infirmary. Craved the peace of being alone. A disquieting thought considering the days of silence and emptiness that frequently comprised his time in the tower cell.

McKenzie had tried to get him to analyze his desire for privacy. Jack had resisted. What did it matter where he slept, so long as he returned daily to the Infirmary and the gym for physical therapy? He refused to let the good doctor unearth the fact that the press of people and objects often left him weak with confusion and gnawing doubts. He knew he wasn�t the same man that had stepped through the Gate six weeks earlier and they knew it too.

It was only after much protesting on his part and a reluctant agreement from Dr. McKenzie that Dr. Frasier had finally released him to private quarters on the base. With the condition that he allow a nurse to check it at least once during the night. He counted his blessings that she had come and gone before this latest interruption of his slumber.

Jack had accepted that the dreams were memories struggling to surface after yet another long forced interview with McKenzie. Sitting in bed with only the rapid beat of his heart for company was detrimental to his thinking process however, he needed to walk to clear his head. He ran a hand over his sweaty face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grunting as his feet hit the cold floor, he tested his weight. His knees protested vehemently, but supported him as he pushed off the bedrail and walked the short distance to the doorway.

Personnel moved sporadically through the dim hallways. Nightshift was rarely busy unless the base was on high alert. He offered the Airman on duty a faint half smile as he drew his robe around him and moved into the corridor.

The young woman nodded in return, watching him with a concerned expression on her dark face as he walked cautiously past her.

�It�s okay�� Jack glanced at her a second time, �Sergeant Shaffer, I won�t blame you if I fall on my face.�

�Yes, Sir,� she replied uncertainly.

The concrete was ice cold on his bare feet. He welcomed the sensation as he prowled the nearly empty halls. McKenzie had pointed out that being too comfortable physically and emotionally was part of his problem. Though he phrased it better as Jack recalled. The gist of the argument was that he needed to feel. To open himself up to what had happened so that he could heal.

It was all a lot of psychobabble, though he had kept that unsolicited opinion to himself. McKenzie was doing his job and Jack knew he had to at least attempt to do his. He wasn�t sure when he had stopped trying to fool the psychiatrist and actually started listening to him. But at some point over the last two weeks he began to accept that at least some of what the doctor said was true.

Unfortunately, therapy did not settle all the questions that still haunted him whenever he was awake and alone. He had asked for work to fill the time, mission analysis, personnel reports, anything to distract him from the confusion that still clouded his thoughts. It wasn�t like the cell or even the first early days of his recovery. The Id had faded now to a memory. He felt a vague sense of gratitude to the part of his mind that had protected him and a more tangible sense of relief that he no longer heard the paranoid ramblings of his damaged psyche. He was rational again, could think, which was also part of the problem.

The timbre of his dreams had changed. As his body strengthened. he was able to sleep more soundly and often awoke with only a gnawing sense of unease. His subconscious telling him that he had experienced a flashback but unable to provide the details.

There were still times however, when consciousness found him bathed in sweat and panting as the blood roared in his ears. Vivid dreams always the same in tone though they varied in content. The beings that had no name restraining him as they inflicted injuries he could not believe he had survived. The cackling that issued from their toothy mouths, which he had assumed for some time was laughter. The way they jumped and pointed among themselves as he writhed in agony. Sometimes screaming, other times sobbing quietly to himself. Salty tears squeezing out from tightly closed eyelids, he was powerless to stop their flow. No matter what he did or said they would prance and growl, happy as hell from what he could see. These visions had haunted him since the early days of his return to the SGC still unsure of where and who he was.

Jack paused at a bend in the corridor and leaned heavily against the wall. The dream that had drawn him out on this quiet night was completely different. Sharp in color and clear in detail, it was another memory determined to make itself heard and felt. Regrettably, like its disquieting predecessor, it raised more questions.

Why had they gone to P2Z-421? Who were the creatures that had attacked them and what had SG-1 done to provoke them? Had the Goa�uld been to the planet and seeded it with the creatures? Was it a host harvesting ground? If not, then why were the inhabitants so paranoid?

What did they want with him? Why had they beaten and tortured him without any obvious attempt to communicate?

The last question was the most painful to consider. Jack ran a shaky hand through his hair and across his neck.

�Sir?�

He sucked in a startled breath at the soft voice close to his ear. Spinning around, he discovered Carter standing in the intersecting corridor. Her eyes were puffy as if she had just woken up and there was a red mark on her cheek that looked suspiciously like knuckles.

�Been boxing without a helmet again, Carter?� he quipped when he could find his voice.

She flushed crimson, obviously embarrassed. �I fell asleep in the lab.�

�Ah, you know they have a special place for you to do that?�

�Huh?�

�It�s called a bed, Carter.� He smiled at her sigh of frustration.

�I know that, it�s just that General Hammond asked me to��

Jack waved her off. �Come on, join me for some coffee? I assume that�s where you were headed.�

She nodded and fell into step beside him.

They walked in companionable silence down the hall to the elevators. He watched her, noting her worried frown and the distracted looked in her dark gaze. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but a pair of scientists interrupted them. Recognizing Carter, they approached as a unit babbling about some discovery on planet X. Jack stood against the wall, watching her respond to their rapid fire questions with a mixture of amazement and annoyance. She was quick with her replies, concise and as to the point as she could be given the nature of the discussion. He had always admired her sense of duty and her attention to detail. However, enough was enough. Jack glanced at the clock on the opposite wall and stepped into the conversation with a loud clearing of his throat.

�Gentlemen, it is 0300. Major Carter is not on duty right now, at least she shouldn�t be. For that matter, neither should you. This can wait till morning.� He steered her into the waiting car with a firm hand on her elbow and watched with a subdued smirk as the doors closed on the gaping faces of the two geeks.

�Thanks, I think.� Carter muttered.

�You�re welcome, I�m sure, � he replied just as quietly.

They didn�t speak again until they had grabbed coffee and something resembling a bearclaw and settled at a corner table in the empty commissary. Splitting the pastry between two paper plates Sam licked her finger and regarded him over the rim of her cup.

�So?�

�So, what?� he answered around a mouthful of crumbs.

�Why are you walking around this time of night and alone to boot?�

�Carter, I�m not a china doll for cryin� out loud. Frasier�s been after me for weeks to get out of bed and get moving. It�s time that�s all.�

�At three o�clock in the morning?� she pressed as she nibbled the edge of the sweet.

Jack shook his head and patted his empty plate with damp fingers. �Good a time as any��

�Come on,� she took a small bite and chewed it for a moment. �What�s going on? Are you okay?�

�I wish everyone would stop asking that question.� He growled in reply. �I�m not okay, but considering the circumstances, I�ll survive.� He shrugged against the sudden tension in his shoulders. �What choice have I got?�

She didn�t reply and he felt a warm flush of guilt at the sadness that mirrored in her eyes.

�Carter, I appreciate the thought�� He let the words trail off into a troubled silence. They had not discussed the times that she had come to him, often at this very hour. Her reaction to his current distress was similar to her behavior in the weeks following his escape from Baal�s compound. Fingers interlaced with his, while she sat close by his bedside. Murmured words, sounds really, when she stroked his cheek as he trembled from the nightmares. Her presence had been reassuring, then and now. She had not expected anything in response and until this very moment he had been powerless to even consider a way to show his gratitude.

Words flitted uselessly through his muzzy brain. Each one sounded more inane and inadequate than it�s predecessor. He opened his mouth to speak and suppressed a sigh of guilty relief when she shook her head.

�I�m glad I could be there for you.�

Jack stared into his coffee cup. Suddenly the idea of considering the thing between them was utterly exhausting. Wasn�t it enough that she had come to him and that she knew how much it meant? �Thank you,� he said simply.

She touched his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. �Are you sure you don�t want to talk about it?�

�It?�

�The reason you�re up wandering the halls,� she clarified.

He took a long swallow of the coffee, wincing as it burned his throat. �Oh, that.�

�Uh huh.�

Sharing his feelings had never been easy and it seemed that talking was all he ever did lately. Now Carter was asking him to open up. He hated himself for wanting their relationship, for want of a better term, to be the place he could run and hide as he struggled to sort out what had happened. She needed to help him in a more tangible fashion. He could see it in the lines around her eyes and the furrow in her pale brow. It would be so easy to let go, at least a little. Let her share the burden of his pain. But it wasn�t fair.

Jack drew in a deep breath, keeping his eyes focused on the black swirl of coffee in the bottom of his cup. �No thanks,� he told her softly.

Sam flinched, but did not reply. Draining the coffee in her cup, she tossed it on the table next to her half eaten pastry and stood up. �You know where I am.�

He heard the resentment in her voice. Anger flared to life as she turned and walked away. How dare she be so cold and dismissive? Who was she to judge how he felt? Jack pushed back his chair and stared at her retreating back for a long moment. Words gathered and trembled on the tip of his tongue. He clamped his teeth shut and shook his head. There was nothing that he could say that wouldn�t come out sounding selfish and petty, or God forbid, pitiful.

She had promised to be there when he woke up, days, weeks ago. She hadn�t been and he wasn�t surprised. There was only so much rejection anyone could take without reacting, Carter had reached that point and passed it in the year and a half since his capture by Baal.

Jack shivered at the memory. As horrible as that experience had been, his latest bout with the surreal had matched it point for point in intensity. He should have died. When he had been coherent enough to think beyond a ten second window, he wished he had on several occasions. Baal�s sarcophagus had offered him a high for the brief time he was given in between interrogations. He could remember craving the blessed relief of the white washed tomb and the rush of adrenaline that briefly overrode his terror and hopelessness. His captors from the tower had been nowhere near as kind.

Memories of the tower room were hazy, gradually coming into focus with the passage of time. He remembered the pain first and foremost. Unrelenting, it hounded him in his dreams and what passed for wakefulness. His lips and throat were always parched and raw. Due in part to lack of water and as much as he hated to acknowledge it, his own anguished screams. Nausea and headaches from lack of solid food were constant companions. Overshadowing all the physical symptoms was a sense of helplessness. He could not answer their questions, if in fact the cackles and squeals that issued from their fierce forms were questions at all. There was no way he could defend his mind or spirit against their relentless attacks. He had lost a part of himself. It had seeped away, much like his blood, into the filthy stones that comprised the floor.

Jack ran a hand over his neck and picked up their trash from the table. His anger had evaporated leaving him weak and bitter. No, Carter could not be burdened by his feelings. It didn�t matter if she thought she could handle it or not. He couldn�t do it.

He dumped the refuse and tossed the tray on the counter. The halls were still relatively empty as he walked to the elevators and took a car to the floor where his temporary quarters were located.

Sergeant Shaffer offered him a small smile in greeting and a hand to steady him as he stumbled against the doorway. �Sir, are you alright? Should I call the Infirmary?�

�No,� he whispered softly. He waved her off as he entered his room and sat down heavily on the bed. Struggling out of the robe, he stretched out on the mattress and rubbed wearily at his face. His reply to the airman had nothing to do with the Infirmary. Though he wanted no part of Janet�s penlight at the moment.

He wasn�t �alright� and as he drifted off into a fitful sleep Jack wondered if he would ever be �alright� again.

A sharp rap on the metal door to his quarter drew Jack from the depths of sleep. He woke panting slightly, overheated by the blankets that had wrapped themselves around his restless legs. Grumbling an oath, he threw them aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed. �What?� he snapped.

�Sir?�

�Yeah?� Who else, he added silently.

�You have a visitor.� Shaffer informed him.

Jack glanced at the bedside clock and shook his head. It was 0530, who on earth...? The thought trailed off as he swallowed hard. �Who is it?�

�Major Carter, Sir.�

A low groan escaped his lips. Jack slid off the edge of the bed and stood on the cold floor. He grabbed his discarded robe and cinched it tightly, ignoring the fresh, slightly nauseating wave of heat that washed over him. �Send her in.�

A rectangle of muted light flooded into the room as Shaffer opened the door and gestured Carter inside. �Do you need anything, Sir? I�m about to go off duty,� she asked.

�No, thank you Airman. Good night, er rather good morning.�

She smiled, her teeth a gleaming contrast to the semi darkness. �Same to you, Sir. See you this evening.� The door clanked and they were alone.

Jack wandered restlessly around the bed and turned on the lamp sitting on the small table. The amber light made him blink. Behind him, he heard Carter shifting on her feet. He waited for her to speak, knowing she had a purpose for her visit. Sam Carter never did anything without analyzing it six ways to Sunday.

�I couldn�t sleep,� she finally ventured softly.

�Did you try a bed?� he replied with forced levity.

She sighed, �Yes, maybe it was the coffee.�

�Maybe,� he agreed, hearing the lie as clearly as she did.

�Thinking too much I guess.�

�About?� He pressed his lips into a firm line, wishing he could take back the word that now hung heavily between them.

Her boots scraped on the concrete as she paced across the room and slumped into the chair in the corner. �About what happened to you and my part in it.�

It wasn�t the answer Jack expected or wanted. Guilt and sadness muted her words. He forced himself to turn and face her. The space between them had never felt so wide. In his mind he was screaming for her to hear, but the words came out in a ragged whisper. �It wasn�t your fault, Carter.�

�You don�t know that, do you?� she challenged.

�I don�t?�

�No, because you can�t remember, haven�t been able to according to Doctor McKenzie�s reports.�

�Why are you reading those?� He couldn�t keep the surprise and outrage from tingeing his words. �Since when has my medical record been a matter of public scrutiny?�

�Since General Hammond asked me to consider the position of SG-1 team leader,� she replied reluctantly.

�Oh�� It was all he could manage. Walking to the bed, Jack sank onto the end of it and shook his head. �That didn�t take long.�

�You�re on the injured list. There is no way of knowing when you will be ready for active duty again.� She was staring at him, her hand gesturing sharply to emphasis her point. �I�m sure it�s only temporary.�

�Or if,� he responded, ignoring the last statement in favor of the silent words she had not dared to say.

�Those aren�t my words,� she pointed out quietly. Her eyes dropped to her restless hands now twisting the hem of her shirt.

�No, they�re mine,� he admitted. �But it�s what you�re thinking isn�t it? What Hammond is thinking?�

�I don�t know.�

�Which, you or Hammond?� He was pushing and she was balking at his implications. He could see it in the flush on her pale cheeks and the bright flash in her eyes.

�I don�t speak for General Hammond, Sir. He is quite capable of doing that for himself, perhaps you should ask him.�

Her voice was deadly calm. Jack flinched involuntarily at the rebuke. �No, I think the writing is on the wall.�

�Are you giving up?�

�Of course not!� he snapped.

It was Sam�s turn to flinch. Her eyes remained riveted to her twisting fingers.

Jack growled an oath and rose to pace the floor. During the long weeks of his recovery, he had never considered the possibility that he might not return to active duty. The idea that anyone, anything, he encountered �out there� could finally be his physical undoing was something he refused to contemplate most of the time. Getting back to the job had become the goal he strived for, despite the gaps in his memory and the protests of his aging body. Now his friends were having doubts.

Replacing him was sound military judgment. Hammond should have come to him, but Jack could forgive him the oversight. He knew he had been out of the loop in the day to day operations of the SGC. There was no way reading a few reports or sitting in on a handful of briefings could take the place of being in the field. But Carter�s unspoken concerns were a bit harder to take. He shook his head, it was more than that and she needed to know it as much as he did.

Jack turned slowly and looked across the space between them. Carter was slouched in the chair, her pale face pinched with concern. She was still looking towards the floor, but periodically she would glance in his direction. Surreptitiously watching him from beneath her fine lashes.

She was afraid for him. The thought chilled Jack to the core. Since their very first meeting he had felt the desire to be strong in front of her. Initially, it was simply a need to establish a clear chain of command. He was in charge, not just because of the rank insignia on his uniform, but because he had earned the right by virtue of experience. She had rarely questioned his authority over the last seven years. When conflict had arisen between them it was quickly resolved. Usually by her falling back on military protocol, he had to admit. For whatever reason, she listened to him.

He had been in charge of a military force of both men and women before retiring. The experience was not and should not have been unique. Since the first Abydos mission he had strove to understand what made Carter special.

There was camaraderie; she was one of the guys. She laughed with them, frequently adding her share of off color stories. Later there was friendship. He could look to her when he was feeling indecisive and hear her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoke. Beneath it all there was a bond of trust. The kind of deep loyalty soldiers developed in the heat of battle. Somewhere along the line without him realizing it, another facet had developed between them.

Love, subtle and soft, became the undercurrent of their interactions. Feelings shared with a simple random touch, words spoken with a glance and a smile. Days when he felt the heat as she entered a room and sat close beside him. Nights when he dreamed of holding her and pleasuring her in a way she had never known. Times when their disagreements simply ended because they realized they were coming from the same place, just taking different routes. She had never needed him to be her knight and savior, but he needed her to see him that way especially now, and she couldn�t.

Jack swallowed hard, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. Carter cleared her throat and raised her eyes to meet his for the first time. He shuddered at the sadness and confusion he saw in those luminous depths. It wasn�t fair! He felt his whole body shaking as his pulse increased. Blood roared in his ears with the heavy pounding of his heart.

Sam rose and walked uncertainly towards him. �Colonel? Are you okay?�

A jolt of resentment shot across his nerves at the use of his rank and not his name. Jack shook his head as she closed the gap between them and stopped inches from his trembling form. �No, I�m not.� He couldn�t be weak in front of her. She needed to see that a part of the man she trusted and loved, still existed.

Jack reached out and ran cautious hands up her arms to her shoulders. Sam blinked in surprised but did not pull back as he cupped her face and bent towards her. Their lips brushed together, and he gasped at the warmth that exploded inside his chilled body. Her response was cautious, her lips parted slightly as she leaned towards him. He met her halfway, nudging his tongue between her teeth. He caressed the hollow of her cheek and tasted the lingering sweetness of the pastry on her breath. He drew back and saw her swallow her shock.

Placing two fingers on her lips, he drew her silently towards the bed. They sat on the end of it facing one another. Jack let his eyes wander across her face, noting the questioning look in her eyes and the flush of shared heat on her pale cheeks. His gaze drifted languidly down to the v of her T Shirt and the full curve of her breasts pushing against the black material. He let his eyes drop lower to her waist and along the bend of one of one long leg.

Wordlessly Jack leaned forward and slowly untied first one shoe and then the other, pulling off her socks at the same time. Ignoring the dizziness as he straightened too quickly he reached for her belt. His long fingers undid the buckle, and he slipped one hand between the waistband and the warmth of her flat stomach. Her shirt came free with a gentle tug. He felt the pressure in his groin increase as his hand wandered slowly up her abdomen until it cupped one soft breast. The nipple hardened instantly beneath the gentle nudging of his thumb. He didn�t dare look at her face as his other hand joined the first. Her heart beat rapidly beneath his fingers as he massaged her. A shuddering sigh fell across him as his hands trailed down across her ribs to her waist. With a slight movement he urged her to stand so he could slide her pants and underwear to the floor. She complied, tugging him to his feet and reaching for the tie of his robe. Her clothing fell to the concrete with a soft clink from the belt buckle. He shrugged himself free of the robe and felt her hands sliding his sweats from his waist, freeing his throbbing penis.

Sam trailed a feather touch across his legs to his inner thighs as she sank to her knees. Her hands drifted to his groin and she began to caress him with her fingertips. Jack moaned softly riding the shudders that coursed through his trembling body. He reached forward and ran his hands through her short, blond hair, grasping and tugging as her lips enveloped him. She ran her teeth the length of his shaft, her tongue darting along the pulsing veins and around the head. Tendrils of shock and delicious fire shot up his legs and exploded in his chest. His heart was slamming and his breath came in short ragged gasps as she moved her mouth over him. She increased her pace and he saw the world dim and brighten with each stroke. He slid his hands to her shoulders, as his hips began thrusting in time to her movements.

Warnings flashed through his hazy brain. Things were moving too fast, he would never be able to last in his weakened state, she had to slow down.

Jack sucked in a startled breath, fighting the orgasm that was swelling with tidal force. With a groan he pulled himself free of her moist embrace and urged her to her feet. Keeping his eyes focused on a point just below her chin, he raised her T Shirt over her willing arms. His own soon joined it in a distant corner of the room.

He could feel her eyes burning into his bowed head. Urging him to look at her. He resisted, terrified of what he might see in her face, in the eyes that could never conceal her raw emotions. He chose to run his hands across her shoulders and under her breasts, guiding her back onto the bed as he did so. She lay on the mattress, scooting backwards silently as he settled over her. Jack leaned forward and closed his eyes as their lips met. Her mouth was warm and supple beneath him. Matching his urgency, her tongue tangled and twisted with his. They kissed deeply for long, breathless moments pulling apart purely out of necessity.

Fatigue sent spasms up his arms and Jack sat back with reluctance. He held her lips closed with a gentle touch, unable to bear the thought of speech. Words would surely end the fantasy, send it crashing down into reality with no hope of retrieval. He cupped her cheek and stroked her jaw with his thumb. She was breathing hard now, an air of expectancy hung over them both. A brief flash of doubt shot through his brain. Jack squelched it with a determined shake of his head, as she reached for him. Together he entered her inviting warmth with a shudder and a gasp.

The world seemed to come into sharp focus as he moved slowly within her. The white of the sheets beneath them, the pale pink of her lip gloss, the cream of her skin. All things took on a luminescence, pulsing softly with each thrust of his hips. Her hands settled on his waist and stretched eager fingers across his cheeks. She gripped him with sudden ardor as his penis raked across her clitoris and for the first time she whispered. A single word that shocked and thrilled him to a faster pace, �Jack.� Adrenaline surged through him and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with a fierce bruising kiss. His tongue thrust urgently against her teeth and into the hollow of her cheeks. She gasped beneath him and he released her, blinking the fresh sweat from his eyes and swallowing hard.

No, he could not look, now most certainly!

Forcing the errant thought to the back of his mind, he increased his pace. Her hips moved in tandem with his, struggling to keep up as he became more frantic. He leaned over her and felt his arms beginning to shake uncontrollably. Her fingers were cool on his heated flesh as she braced him. He could see her heart beating rapidly in her chest. A part of him wanted to slow down, to return to the gradual savory buildup that had gotten them to this point. But the need was paramount now, the sound of his name freeing him in a way he could not deny. Compelling him to prove the virility that she had never openly questioned. He needed this! She had to know!

Orgasm was sudden and blinding in its intensity. He shuddered and the breath froze in his throat as erotic fire tingled through his limbs. Overcome, Jack collapsed across her sweaty form. She grunted softly and shifted his weight, supporting him as best she could while he gasped in both pleasure and exhaustion.

A part of him never wanted to move. To change position would somehow deny what had happened. Force it into the status of fantasy, impossible and unattainable. He knew it wasn�t true. The trembling in his limbs and Sam�s breathe stirring the hair at the base of his neck. These were tangible sensations; they connected the experience to reality. Before Sam could grow too uncomfortable from his considerable weight, Jack reluctantly pushed himself to one side. Leaving one leg slung across hers he traced a slow circle around one of her breasts.

As the heat of their love making dissipated, his mind began to churn. He hadn�t been able to look at her since their first tentative kisses. Now that the moment had passed, the why of his inability loomed large and undeniable. He swallowed hard and coughed slightly. Her hand rose and swept across the back of his head and down his back. She was waiting. He admired her patience, but terror had stolen his voice and the strength from his battered frame. He sank back against the pillows, unable to respond to her comfort.

Sam shifted onto her side. With one hand she drew the covers from the end of the bed over both of their damp bodies.

Jack rolled onto his side, pressing his back against her stomach and breasts.

What have I done?

Her hand stroked his cheek before snaking beneath his arm to rest on his chest. He suppressed a shudder of inner revulsion.

God forgive me, Sam. What have I done?

Continued in Part Four Questions and LIes

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