Bleached bones. Long and gleaming in the last rays of the setting sun. Remnants of a battle forgotten by all save one.

How long had she sat there? Cradling a doll made of sticks and tattered cloth. Tears frozen in smudgy droplets on her cold, gray face. Hours? Days? It had to be days. Sitting and then running away in fear of the night and the howl of the wind, destined to return, too lost to do otherwise. Achingly lonely for the security of a mother long dead, a mother made of bones.

Sam shivered and squirmed deeper into her sleeping bag.

More haunting than the sunken cheeks and dead eyes of the child were her hands. Fine, china fingers tipped with torn nails encrusted with dirt and blood. Was she digging for warmth, shelter, or perhaps sustenance? Neither was to be found at the bottom of the pit. The dark, damp clay nourished by blood and bitter tears.

They were too late.

An hour, a day�it didn�t matter. Sam had pushed back the lank strands of black hair and started at the gleaming, silver sheen over the pale, blue eyes. The lips beneath were pinched into a permanent, twisted frown. Hinting at the betrayal that had stalked the sorrowful heart as life ebbed away.

The remembered texture of the leathery flesh beneath her fingers forced a shiver down Sam�s back. She rubbed her hands together but the sensation remained, augmenting the images that danced before her eyes. Stilted pictures of the child�s delicate little body kept whole by the bitter chill of the night air. The deteriorating skin ruddy and dark, she appeared almost alive.

Almost...

In the tent it was warm, suffocating. Despite the heat, Sam pulled the lip of the sleeping bag over her head, enclosing herself in a cocoon of darkness. The sounds of the night smothered beneath the harsh rasp of her rapid breathing. The odors of the battle had long since fled the crater, sparing them the iron tang of blood and the cloying stench of viscera and burned flesh. Instead, the vapid air within the bag reeked of sweat and dirt and the sharp tang of fear. Sam bit her lip and tucked her head into the crook of her elbow.

A voice murmured sleepily beside her, and she cringed. The day's events erased the familiarity of the sound, leaving her paralyzed, every muscle taut and straining.

Whispers.

The wind moaned across the flat expanse surrounding the pit. A vast, open tract dotted with sparse grass and a smattering of twisted trees. There had been no cover, nowhere for the victims of the massacre to run. Clearly they had fallen in defense of the most vulnerable among them. Helpless human slaves brutally slain by Jaffa staff weapons. Clad in armor Teal�c did not recognize, a handful of warriors lay scattered among the bodies. Killed by poor men�s arms. Daggers and swords made from spades and rakes, crude and ineffective against the overwhelming onslaught of numbers and technology.

Standing atop the rim of the pit, Sam heard the whispers. The voices crying out in fear and rage as the Jaffa roared down upon them. Oaths of terror and vengeance spat out against their oppressors as the victims valiantly, futilely struggled to survive. Not even in the tangible Hell of Netu had she heard such emotion, or felt the raw power of the damned. It washed over them all, clutching and dragging at her chilled heart until she was forced to turn away. She retched into the brush, embarrassed and terrified.

�MajorCarter?�

�Sam?�

Comforting voices reached her through the haze as she stumbled against a boulder and sank to her knees.

�Carter?� Hands? His hands on her shoulders, hesitant and gentle, �Hey, are you okay?�

She dragged quivering fingers across her mouth and straightened, offering a watery smile. �Yeah, I�m fine��

�You look like crap, sit.�

An order? A plea? Sam nodded and sat on the boulder. Watching them walk the rim through bleary, unfocused eyes. Their bodies cast muzzy shadows across the barren earth. Lengthening silhouettes that gradually lost form as the sun sank slowly towards the chain of mountains that defined the western horizon. The wind rose and howled sudden fury across the baked plain, spattering them all with grit. The Colonel swore and clutched his hat, bracing his long legs against the gale. Teal�c scanned the far rim for a long moment before dropping over the edge of the pit, intent on the exploration of the gruesome find. Daniel glanced at her and nodded fractionally before following suit. He was undoubtedly fascinated and horrified by the discovery and what it meant. She shared the twin emotions, and was nonplussed at the physical reaction that had driven her to her knees.

�Better?�

Sam looked up at the question. The Colonel was half turned in her direction. His attention effectively split between their teammates below and her slouched form. She nodded gamely and climbed to her feet. �Yes, I think so.� He turned away as she drew abreast. �I don�t know what came over me.�

�Can�t imagine.� There was no sarcasm, only a pained bitterness that made her look twice. He blinked, aware of her scrutiny and unashamed of the raw emotions clouding his drawn, haggard face. �Let�s do it.�

They proceeded down the slag covered slope to the bottom. Everywhere lay bodies, twisted and mangled, the remnants of skin seared black. Sam swallowed hard, forcing her mind to the impersonal space reserved for such disasters. There she could safely dwell while they catalogued the devastation and searched for clues as to why and how it had come about. Later would be time for tears.

They walked carefully through the battlefield, never straying too far from one another. Unconsciously seeking the comfort of the living while striving for the detachment necessary to focus on the dead. There was a task to complete and a report to file. The failed mission deserved a place in the SGC archives, and despite the pall of misery hanging over the pit the gruesome business had to be completed. They noted the positions of the combatants and the odd combination of ancient and modern weaponry. Remarked in stilted murmurs on the remains of trenches and earthworks, the latter composed of little more than packed clay and slabs of granite. Paused and stared in mute horror at a sword rusted brown from dirt and blood. Nearby a staff weapon lay broken in two beneath a boulder. Long finger bones clutched the mottled rock. Frozen in the last desperate act of a dying man. Sam prodded the arm and flinched as it fell from its socket and the stone rolled free. She glanced up and saw a flash of raw rage in the Colonel�s dark eyes. Then it was gone. Fire squelched to embers in a breath. His self-control was palpable, and she found herself drifting uneasily away from the stoic form. The fury and grief were held tightly in check, to be filed away into the darkness of memory when time allowed. Sent to join their kindred in an ever growing mass of pain. She envied and feared him that ability. Someday the images would explode in a fiery plume to rival Vesuvius. Sam shuddered at the fallout that would inevitably occur.

Pulling her mind back to the present with effort, Sam spotted a rock fall leaning heavily against the side of the pit. One large plate of granite had dug into the earthen wall and set its edge on top of a jumble of greenish stone. She approached with caution. Wary of anything that might be lingering in the dim crevasse. A shaft of sunlight burst through the clouding dusk and found its way into the opening between roof and wall. Sam froze.

Bleached bones.

The small, bowed shape of a child lay close beside the huddle of cloth and blackened flesh.

�No!�

Sam buried the scream in the cloth of her sleeping bag. Deep, ragged breaths tore from her throat, soaking the material with saliva. She clenched her fists and curled into a tight, fetal ball. Behind her the soothing bulk of her tent companion shifted in response. Pulling away and then moving marginally closer as the body within the sleeping bag turned towards her.

�Hey��

She quivered and jammed her fist into her mouth, desperate to stifle the nightmare.

The body inched closer, bathing her in unbearable warmth. �Hey, Carter��

Sam wrenched away from the comforting voice and sat up. Sweat poured down her back in icy rivulets. She clutched the fabric of the bag, kneading it into sodden lumps. How long had the little girl sat there? Crying over the body of her mother. A desperate mewl of fear and betrayal the only sound to be heard in the desolate bunker?

Dear God�.

�Carter!�

Rough hands shook her, and Sam spun around wide-eyed and gasping. The hands released her shoulders and slid to her elbows. She stared at the long fingers gently pressing into the flesh. Then slowly dragged her eyes up to the still, anxious face. The taut muscles of cheek and jaw relaxed slightly into a hesitant smile. �It�s okay.�

�No, it�s not.� Had she spoken aloud?

Jack nodded and clumsily rubbed her arms. �I know.�

�It�s like I heard them, whispering. Begging for the Jaffa to stop� I never�.�

�I know.�

She looked at his face, all angles and lines, each testifying to a guarded pain. He was nodding slowly, the thin lips set in an empathic grimace. All the light seemed to have fled the brown eyes. They peered beneath the long lashes like twin chips of obsidian. As flat and lifeless as the baleful gaze of the little girl had been.

�You heard them? You always hear, don�t you?�

Jack raised a hand and stroked the hair from her eyes with one finger.

Sam captured the trembling digit and pressed it to her cheek with a ragged sigh. �I heard them calling, I heard her�God, how long did she wait? Did she know that her mother would never wake up? Did she see her fall?� Helpless, useless questions tumbled from her dry lips. �I knew, somehow I knew before I stepped into that pit. That�s never happened to me before. I�m a soldier, I�m not supposed to fall apart like that�.�

His other hand rose to cradle her face. Troubled brown eyes sought hers, and she tried to look away. But he would not relent, and she was drawn in against her will. Confronted with the visage of sorrow neither could deny. His thumbs smoothed the skin beneath her eyes, slipping deftly over the sheen of unwanted tears spilling over the burning lids.

�I�m not supposed to be weak. I�m no good to you if I am��

�You�re not,� he assured gently.

Sam bit her lip and tried to duck away. This was too close for them. Touching on the raw feelings of guilt and regret they shared as soldiers. Prodding the deeper, baser desire to be each other�s comfort in the face of nightmare. Too close�

Jack released her with a halting sigh. She glanced up, suddenly fearful.

Too close and yet�

The dark closed in abruptly as someone passed by the fire. Teal�c or Daniel, she noted absently. Their teammates had chosen to share a tent so they could discuss the meaning of the symbols found on the weapons and armament of the dead Jaffa. She felt a selfish, but unrepentant gratitude for their absence. Teal'c had last watch, and she knew Daniel was suffering one of his frequent bouts of insomnia by the murmur of soft voices coming from the reflected glow of the fire. They were alone.

Sam pivoted until she was facing Jack�s reclined form. He was staring at the ceiling, his long fingers twitching restlessly on the sleeping bag. Before she could think further about the wisdom of her actions, Sam reached out and grasped the cool hands between her own. The fingers ceased their movements and lay in hers, relaxed and pliable. She stroked the scarred knuckles and rubbed the ball of her thumb across the calloused flesh of his palm. The hands flexed in response, grasping and squeezing gently. She smiled tentatively and forced her eyes to focus on the sleeping bag. Following the line of cloth where it touched the floor of the tent and rose up to overlap the flap of her bag. He rolled towards her, the nylon whispering harshly in the silence. One elegant hand slid free, and her eyes followed its progress as it drifted up and supported his propped head.

Caution fled in the face of need, and she shifted attention to his face. Tracing the lines of his jaw and the full, firm mouth. He did not react to her scrutiny, and she was grateful for the silence. There was no room for voice or thought. Only the gradual allaying of fears and the comfort of a man so familiar, yet so alien to her eyes and heart. Her gaze drifted to his half concealed ear and followed the arc of his fingers until they disappeared into the burnished, silver hair. She lingered on a spot just above the tilted head, intrigued and confused by the warm tingles coursing through her. He moved marginally closer, and she dropped her gaze. Surprised and concerned when the long lashes dipped suddenly, covering his deep brown eyes. The hand within her grasp turned and gripped her cool flesh tugging gently until she relented. The sleeve of her jacket slipped back to reveal the creamy flesh of her arm as it rose towards his mouth. She watched with curious detachment, suppressing a shudder at the breathy sigh that dampened the skin

Soft lips brushed her palm and the tender throbbing veins on her wrist. Sam shivered involuntarily, rocked to the core by the forbidden caress. Warm, moist air bathed her arm as he traced tender kisses to the elbow. She leaned forward and stretched out on top of her sleeping bag. Basking in the growing inner heat as he nibbled his way back to the wrist and bit gently into the heel of her hand. One long leg pulled free of his bag and moved to capture hers. He pulled their bodies closer together and sucked her index finger into his mouth. Languid tongue strokes teased the sensitive tip and the inside of her knuckle. She trembled as his teeth rubbed their way over the roughened skin. Gradually he released her, lips sliding over each knuckle until only the tip remained. He held it gently between his teeth for a long moment and then guided it over his lips with his free hand.

Sam slid from his grasp, pleased and anxious as a rattling sigh followed her withdrawal. She stroked her hand across his chest, reveling in the strong, rapid beat of his heart beneath the cloth. Like a child she explored this new venue. Treading the line between elated and afraid. High and desperately lost to explain the reasons that had driven them to this moment of screaming silence. She could feel the answering thrum of her pulse and the hot flush rising from soul to skin. She thrust conscious thought aside, unwilling to let reality intrude. She needed humanity, the comfort of life, the assurance of a world not awash in a curtain of blood. Was he all of that? Did it matter?

A part of her knew the answer even as she leaned forward and captured his lips. Bruising the flesh in her desperate ardor to become one with this man who meant so much. The burning flesh parted beneath her demanding onslaught, and his tongue parried hers. Rapid thrusts that spoke of denial and regret and a consuming desire to obliterate all that had kept them apart. The tent darkened as he blocked the firelight and rolled her gently to the floor. He deepened the kiss, and she felt his hot, hard penis straining the cloth of his trousers where it pressed against the flat of her stomach. The anxious mouth covered hers, explorations taking on a new urgency as the heat built between them. A low, hungry moan gathered at the back of Sam�s throat. She swallowed, terrified to utter a single sound that could shatter the dream. A dull throb had begun deep in her groin, achingly wet in anticipation. He dropped his mouth to her chin and took it gently in his teeth. Shaking it slightly before releasing and plummeting quivering lips to her throat.

Sam raked her hands through the damp, silver hair and across the taut muscles of his back and shoulders. He responded by kissing the flesh beneath her ear and playfully nipping the lobe. The muted orange glow of the firelight bronzed the skin of his back as she worked his shirt up and over his head. He sat back and gathered the hem of her shirt, pulling it slowly free from her pants. Sam shivered with the sudden chill and offered a shy smile as his gaze shifted from her face to her waist. The dark, brown eyes took on a mischievous sparkle as the material gradually revealed her navel and the slight rise of her ribcage. He bent and nuzzled the creamy skin. Her legs stiffened, and she moved to caress his hard calf muscles with one eager foot. He smiled against her belly and pushed the shirt higher until it was perched just above her breasts. The bra was unclasped for sleep, and he gently nudged it aside with his nose. She trembled as his tongue explored the hollow of her cleavage and trailed wetly to the puckered pink flesh of one nipple. Encouraged, he moved on to the other breast, cupping it in one warm hand as he nuzzled and suckled. Sam reached forward and stroked the coarse hair of his chest, clenching the short strands and tugging gently. He gasped against her nipple and leaned closer. Enclosing the areola in a fiery embrace while simultaneously massaging the other breast with the ball of his thumb. Her legs flexed, and her back arched, reveling in the exquisite fire that raced from core to fingertip. He pulled hard, drawing the ache from her groin to her chest. She clenched the fabric of the sleeping bag. Riding the waves in desperate silence. Maddened by the urge to keen her pleasure into the still predawn air.

Did he sense her need? Feel her yearning beyond the physical?

The questions fluttered into the darkness as he released the throbbing breast and descended upon her mouth. Trembling lips devoured hers in a hungry, frantic embrace. The tender skin swelled beneath the bruising force of his attention. He pulled away and kissed icy fire down the pulsing chords of her neck and into the hollow between her breasts. She clenched his shoulders, pushing his mouth onto her damp skin. Each touch was a spark that exploded deep inside with the force of the forbidden. Her hands dragged across his back and fell to the firm rise of his buttocks. Anxious fingers worked around his waist, seeking and releasing his fly with one deft touch. Jack sat up, and the material slid free as he reached for her hips. She arched, eagerly compliant for him to remove the dampened clothes.

The mischief was gone from the brooding gaze. He consumed her naked body in a visual caress that left her breathless. She reached, and he wavered. A last desperate plea etched in the knotted brow. Sam licked her lips and nodded grasping his fingers in hers. Jack leaned forward and slid into her with a hoarse gasp. She matched him, arching slightly to enfold his length. He thrust once, twice and was still. Suspended in a haze of disbelief. He was waiting for her to react, Sam realized. As needful of her approval as she was of the warmth only he could provide. Amazed and humbled by the thought, her hands moved of their own volition. Sliding up his muscular arms. Feeling every scar, every rise of muscle and sinew, savoring the release that came with each quiver of the firm flesh.

A faint, hesitant smile played with the corners of his lips. He bent and brushed a kiss across her cheek, butterfly soft, belying the urgent beat of their hearts. Sam leaned against his lips. Day old stubble prickled her flesh as he traveled down into the tender juncture between neck and shoulder. He nuzzled and butted, and she trembled with the power of her rising desire. Lips and teeth caressed her shoulder and trailed up the side of her neck, teasing and taunting as she writhed beneath him. Sam clenched her teeth and rolled sideways, throwing him onto his back with a grunt. He stared wide eyed, his sensitive mouth slightly agape as she smiled wickedly. Inwardly delighted by her surprise, Sam stroked his chest. Her fingers yanked and twirled the silver hair seeking the flesh beneath, which was smooth and silk soft. He stretched up to meet her lips, and she shook her head, warming to the challenge. Bending at the waist she slid back, bringing the throbbing tip of his penis to the very edge before plunging forward again. He gasped with the shock and ran rough hands through her tousled blond hair. Sam leaned forward and covered the parted lips with her own. Pushing her tongue deep into the warm mouth, caressing the smooth enamel of his teeth. Strong arms slid across her back, cradling her in a fierce embrace. She sank onto his chest. Getting as close as physically possible, melting into the feverish warmth of him. They rolled again, and he sat back with a ragged sigh.

Sam bit her lip, struck by the openness she saw on the angular face. The subdued glow of the fire cast the deep set eyes in shadow, but she knew what lay there nevertheless. Felt it in the way his fingers clutched her shoulders. Saw it in the deep lines around his lips and across the furrowed brow. Her hand drifted up from the sleeping bag and he caught it. With a deliberate shake of his head, Jack urged the questing fingers to lay flat against his chest. She nodded understanding. It was enough to know the tears were there. He could not bear for her to touch what he could scarcely contain. She pressed the damp flesh beneath her hand and felt the tempo of his pulse increase in reply. Slowly he began to rock. The dark, unreadable eyes never wavered. Boring into her blue depths seeking a release only she could allow. Sam moved with him, feeling an answering crescendo building hot and fast. Waves of sensation, fueled by years of loneliness and days of fear rose and crashed over her. The rhythm increased, the nylon of the floor and sleeping bag whispering in time. Sam bit her tongue, desperate and terrified to give vent to the pleasure wrought by so much pain.

Jack�s muscular body gleamed with sweat as he raked unmerciful kisses across her breasts and throat. She clutched the slippery skin, pulling him closer. Their movements were frantic now, barely controlled. He gasped in her ear and then dropped his head. Moaning a primal cry against her neck as waves of sensation washed over and between them. Spasms gripped the long body and Sam shuddered in reply. The tent dimmed to darkness as orgasm overrode consciousness for a brief, tantalizing moment.

Whispers in the deepness of the night, voices felt and not heard. Dreams and nightmares, hopes and fears of a vision made flesh.

The world returned in a gradual recovery of sound and sight, defined by the frantic pounding of their pulses and the urgent need to quell their rapid breathing. Jack rolled sideways and she shivered as the warmth of his body evaporated in the cold early morning air. He reached back and pulled his sleeping bag over both of them. A hesitant grin curved his lips as he stroked the hair from her flushed cheeks. Words trembled on the tip of her thick tongue. Sam struggled to find something, anything that would sound intelligent.

How did one thank a lover? A man who had been so important for so long and now was more so. Where did one go after such an encounter? Did he know how she had used him to drive back the darkness and the pain? Did it matter to him? Was he doing the same thing? Her mind drifted to the sadness expressed in face and action moments earlier. How close did you come to falling over the edge, Jack? Have you stepped back? Can you help me?

�Don�t,� he whispered huskily.

What? She shivered, aware of how openly her thoughts must show, and frightened that such candor would drive him away.

The fingers moved to cup her chin and she relaxed slightly. He leaned forward and grazed her lips with a tender kiss. �Don�t tear it apart, Sam. Let it be.�

�I��

Jack licked his lips and kissed the edge of her mouth. �I know.�

�Do you?�

�Yes.�

�How�� she couldn�t stop the question and hated herself for not being able to lie quietly and absorb the warmth of his embrace.

��Because I hear the whispers too.�

Sam turned onto her side and forced herself to meet his troubled eyes. They were a mirror, filled to brimming with the same fears and regrets that had driven her stumbling from the pit. She touched the weathered cheek, and he did not flinch as her fingertip found the single tear resting there. �I�m sorry.�

�No, never be sorry for anything that happened today or anything that may happen tomorrow,� he murmured. �Please.�

She nodded in acceptance and shifted closer. His strong arms enfolded her in a fierce embrace as she closed her eyes to wait for the sunrise.

*THE*END*