Rescue

By Joy

Jack/Jason | Mature | AU/FT | 49 kb
Summary:  While Jack O'Neill and Jason Coburn await rescue, Jason worries over losing his friend.

Jack grimaced in pain as the wide-tipped arrow sliced into him behind his right knee, tearing through muscle and bone. As he fell, he did several things simultaneously. One was to roll onto his back and fire his P-90 at the oncoming horde of natives that lived on this backwater planet. The next thing he did was automatically compose a letter of resignation; there was no way Fraiser could get a specialist to save his knee *this* time. He knew that his flight days and mission days were over. The last thing he did was shout an order he didn't--or couldn't--hear himself give as Major Coburn came charging down on his position like a demon from hell. The last thought had made him smile before he felt another arrow...and blacked out.

. . .

"Major!"

Major Jason Coburn didn't pay attention to the words of warning shouted at him. All he saw was Jack going down. "Get to the gate! Call for reinforcements! That's an order, Captain!"

Jack's team had already gone through, carrying wounded, and his own team was right behind them. They would go back, get others, and come back for them. No matter how long it took.

Running as fast as he could, he advanced on Jack's position and saw the second arrow rip into his shoulder. He cringed and shook his head as his speed increased.

"Goddamn you, Colonel."

Jack, as always, had been bringing up the rear on their way to the gate and he shouldn't have been. Not as the leader. Jason grit his teeth in frustration. Didn't the man realize that he wasn't Superman?

Reaching him, he dove to the ground, grabbing Jack around the waist just as an arrow missed his head by a fraction of an inch. "Fuck. C'mon, Jack." There was no need to speak, he realized. Jack was unconscious. He winced again, this time as he grabbed the back end of first one arrow, then the other, breaking them off. In a quickly assumed fireman's carry, he hoisted Jack up and began to run. He had no intention of heading for the gate - too far and not enough time. The caves they'd spotted a quarter of a mile away would have to serve. At least one of them was defensible, if Jason's memory served him.

~

Jason's chest hurt as he breathed. He'd run hard, and now this last obstacle seemed to be a mocking laugh of fate. The cave he'd had in mind sat just off a jut of cliff and the only way up the thirty or so feet to the entrance was to use the rope in his field pack. Getting Jack tied to one end of the rope in order to hoist him up the rock wall was going to be extremely hard. But it was something Jason could do. He'd done it on previous missions before and after joining the SGC. The problem was the advancing natives. He had to get Jack up there before they got close enough to launch more weapons. The only blessings in this entire fiasco were that Jack remained unconscious, his wounds were no longer bleeding badly, and Jason hadn't lost his field pack. Jack's pack was back where he had fallen, and after Jack was safe and settled, Jason planned to get back there and retrieve it...providing the natives hadn't destroyed it or carried it off. It had Jack's rations in it and they would need them in order to survive until rescue.

Propping Jack gently against the base of the rock wall, Jason stared for a moment at the wounds and wished he had time to take care of them. Wasting no more time, he removed his pack, dug out the rope, and attached the locking claw as a drop weight. He moved back from the wall, deciding which place was best to use as an anchor and pulley. The pickings were slim.

With a sigh, he selected a suspiciously weak and scrawny tree that grew out of the ledge of the cave. He swung the heavy rope end several times before launching it, and his first try was unsuccessful. It took him six before he was able to get the heavy end of the rope around the tree and back down to him. Next, came the test of strength and he hoped to god the tree only looked weak. Grabbing both ends of the rope and coiling them around his forearms, he yanked hard, taking his legs from the ground, and prepared himself for a hard landing on his ass and a small avalanche on his head.

It didn't come. The small tree was deceptively strong and he sighed with deep relief. He tested the tree's strength a few more times for stress, then set about getting Jack up the cliff. Anchoring one end of the rope around the closest tree trunk, he next fashioned a harness around Jack. It was difficult without all the right equipment and Jack would have rope burns before he was done. He only hoped that they weren't too severe and that Jack wouldn't wake up halfway up the short cliff.

After making his way up the cliff, and thanking his rock climbing instructor for being such a hard ass, he proceeded to lever the rope around a shrub and pull. It took great care and what seemed forever. In the distance, Jason could hear the yelling of the natives and at times, the ocean surf behind the cliff blocked out some of the noise, making it hard to judge how far away the natives really were.

When at last he had a good handful of Jack and the harness that held him, and pulled him the rest of the way over the lip of the ledge, Jack chose that time to wake up.

.

Disoriented and in extreme pain, Jack groaned. He felt bindings around his chest and hands holding him tightly. Instinctively, he began to fight.

"Jack! Stop!" Jason growled in fright.

"Jason?" Jack asked, confused. Then remembered Jason coming after him after he'd caught that arrow. Arrows? He looked down and saw the one protruding from his left shoulder. "Fuck."

"Don't move or I'll lose you for good," Jason warned and pulled back, using his feet for leverage. Jack was still too close to the edge and he pushed off his legs once more.

"What the fuck? Where are we?"

"I dragged your sorry Colonel's butt over to one of those caves."

"By the ocean?" Jack asked, his eyes widening. He began to wonder why Jason didn't just take him to the gate but as his mind cleared slightly and his threat-assessing abilities clicked in, he chastised himself. "We were too far from the gate?"

"Correct. I had to get you to safety so there'd actually be someone to rescue once the teams returned with reinforcements."

"You sent them ahead?" Jack asked, knowing Jason had.

"You bet your ass, Jack. If you think I was gonna leave you on this godforsaken pithole without collecting that hundred bucks you still owe me, you're sadly mistaken."

A lopsided grin wrinkled Jack's right cheek. "A man after my own heart."

Jason laughed quietly, the sound mostly air. "Okay, let's get you out of this harness and into the cave."

"Did you check the cave first?" Jack asked as he tried to help but got his hands gently slapped.

"No time. I've only just gotten you up this damn cliff."

In surprise, Jack leaned on his right hand, finally taking a good look forward as the rest of the rope was removed. He winced, feeling the burn under his arms and along his ribs, but he ignored it in favor of the view. "Shit."

"Yeah, you need to lose some weight."

"Oh, stop your bitchin', and I do not."

Jason grinned and knelt before Jack, checking his wounds. "Okay, you're gonna get carried again, Jack, and it's gonna hurt. I'm not 'dragging' you in here."

Jack grit his teeth, giving himself over to Jason's care without complaint. The man did have the expert training in rescues of this sort, unlike Jack, whose particular skills were in scouting and tracking. Jack could locate just about anything, while Jason could protect it, find it shelter. Each shared comparable defensive skills but Jack was hardly able to use his right now. Which meant that Jason bore that responsibility, too. As he felt himself getting lifted, fire shot through him and he groaned loudly in protest.

"I know, Jack. I'm sorry."

"Just get me in there and kill anything that moves," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"Not a problem, Jack," Jason grunted around the flashlight in his mouth. He ducked an overhanging branch and entered the cave carefully. This too was difficult as hell. Sweat dropped into his eyes and Jack's good hand pressed against the small of his back, making his already sore back complain. The light from the flashlight barely illuminated what lay in front of him and Jason knew that if anything came at them, his only choices were to get attacked or drop Jack to defend them both. He didn't care for either.

After a few minutes, Jack's rising impatience began to spill out. "What the hell is taking you so long? Just put me down anywhere." He squirmed slightly to make his request more resolute and Jason made an angry noise that Jack couldn't help but smirk at. He knew he shouldn't complain, that Jason was doing all he could, but he was damn tired and in a fuck of a lot of pain. He wanted to go home; see who was going to end up being in the play-offs and whether or not Denver was screwing up their chances.

A sudden wave of nausea hit him and he groaned.

Jason recognized that sound. "Shit." Blood loss and shock. "Don't die on me now, Jack."

"No intention," Jack said, feeling his mouth water, "but you'll be wearing bile if you don't put me down immediately."

Jason had already been deciding between two places when Jack's words made the closer choice for him. Gingerly, he let him down, cushioning his leader's back with his hand as he positioned him to sit. "Okay, if you're gonna throw up, move to the--"

Jack held up a hand. "No, no. Just give me my canteen and about ten aspirin."

Jason rolled his eyes. "I'm going back to get my pack, Jack. Hold on."

When he returned, he pulled out the camp sterno boxes and the packages of white and blue neon tubes they'd use for light. The next thing he pulled out was the med kit they each carried. As one specially trained for combat medicine, Jason's kit had a few extra supplies not normally carried: morphine injectables.

Jack felt a hard, dull pain in his left thigh and turned, frowning, as he grasped Jason's wrist. "What the hell?"

Jason pulled his wrist from Jack's grasp. "You should be feeling the edge come off shortly, Jack. Now, just calm down and I'll get things sorted out here. I'll also have to leave you for a little while but that won't be till I've seen to your wounds. Here," and he handed Jack his canteen after pulling it from Jack's field belt. "Sorry, but I left the bourbon at home."

"Figures," Jack snorted as he slowly took it. He took another look around him, trying to focus through the pain, and realized that his field equipment, including his vest, field jacket, and fatigue shirt were lying next to him. He hadn't even felt Jason taking them off. "I'm in serious trouble, Jason," he concluded.

Jason nodded grimly, his profile a blue glow from one of the neon sticks. "You are," he said as he fished out the medical supplies and laid them on one of the cravats to keep clean. He folded up Jack's jacket and set it behind his head as a pillow. His next task was to remove what he could of Jack's t-shirt around the wound. He did so, carefully, making sure the cloth didn't catch around the wound. He then moved to his trousers and ripped the pant leg off just above the knee. Jack made no noise during this time but his facial expressions and breathing told Jason it was no picnic.

Holding a white glow stick over his leg, Jason examined the wound. Jack's knee cap was still there, but obviously broken in two. The bleeding was starting to clot but the problem was that Jason wanted to remove the arrow...and couldn't. Doing so would start the bleeding again, worse than before, and would likely shatter his knee completely.

"I can't take the arrow out, Jack, but I can bind it up to stop any further bleeding."

Jack nodded mutely, knowing this already.

"But I think I can take care of the one in your shoulder. Problem is, I'll have to use old-fashioned field sterilization."

Jack shut his eyes.

~

Jason wove quietly through the trees, coming close to the open field where Jack had been injured. He silently allowed himself another sigh of relief as he saw the lump that was Jack's field pack sitting in the dirt. There hadn't been any sign of the natives and Jason hoped that Daniel's analysis of their superstitions was correct. They wouldn't get near those caves, believing them to be filled with their version of witchcraft, which to Jason meant an irrational fear of the dark. Thank god for phobias.

Still, the natives had been unpredictable, judging by their inexplicable attack earlier, so Jason was careful as he emerged from the edge of the forest to grab the pack. He made his way back quicker than he'd left, trying to trim off part of the ten minutes it had taken him to travel on his errand.

As he pulled out the rope he'd been able to effectively hide and climbed up to the cave, panic and fear began to set in. What if Jack's condition had somehow worsened? Jason wasn't a doctor, so he had no idea if Jack's two injuries would cause his body to lapse into shock. He'd done what he could to prevent that but the human body just had too many weaknesses and ways to protect itself that weren't always good.

He entered the cave, making a soft whistling noise that he'd previously told Jack would be his 'sentry' call, and would prevent him from getting shot--providing Jack was conscious. When he rounded the cave's pathway to the spot where they were camped, he found Jack awake, though pale and shivering.

"'Bout time, Coburn. Did you hit rush hour?"

"Damn it," Jason groused with fright as he dropped the pack, opening it to retrieve Jack's thermal 'blanket'--little more than a thin tablecloth but made of a silver material that did indeed keep the heat in. Jack was already covered by Jason's blanket but considering the dampness of the cave and their location relative to the ocean's humidity, Jason wasn't taking any chances. He felt Jack's skin and though sweaty, it was warm, not clammy. Relieved for one more thing going their way, he added the second blanket before moving to his sterno stove. Checking the contents of the bowl he'd created with the canteen cup, the soup was now hot enough to eat. He grabbed a spoon from his MRE container and removed the contents from the stove.

Jack looked up at his mother hen and observed Jason with mild amusement. Truth be told, though he felt comforted by the caretaking, a deep dread was taking over his heart. Jason already knew how to read through his irritable snapping so jokes were Jack's last refuge from letting Jason see his fear. There was no way he'd ever tell Jason how scared he really was, mostly because it had almost nothing to do with his situation. Dying in battle, or on a mission--that was something he was constantly prepared for. Dying a slow death at home, sitting grounded behind a desk...that was something Jack couldn't do. What scared him was not being part of the program, unable to do some good; he didn't want to be sidelined. He wanted to be involved directly, sitting in the dugout or playing on the field, not sending in signals from the clubhouse.

He snorted at his use of baseball metaphor and Jason frowned at him as he sat down next to him with the canteen and spoon. "What's funny?"

Jack should his head. "Morphine's giving me strange thoughts, that's all."

Jason grinned. "Well, let's hope they've taken your taste buds away because while this stuff is good for you, it's way too bland. I wish I could add pepper. It has a little salt but not enough. Here," he added, and handed Jack a few white pills.

"What're these?"

"Vitamins. We need them and don't make me bore you with the reasons."

Jack took the pills and without argument took the spoon from Jason as the man held the hot canteen in his gloved hands. He didn't fail to notice the slight shaking. "Cold?" he asked, knowing Jason wasn't.

Jason increased the pressure on the canteen cup and his hands stopped shaking. "No. Just worried."

Jack only nodded slightly as he ate, not wanting to comment. He was worried about Jason but nagging him and forcing Jason to worry further would serve no purpose. He usually had some sort of joke for this situation, but he couldn't think of one at the moment.

Two minutes later, Jack pushed the canteen cup and spoon at Jason. "Your turn."

"You're the one who's injured and--"

"And you won't do me much good if you're weak from not taking in food. Eat."

Jason reached out and put the back of his hand against Jack's forehead, closing his eyes to tune out the intense brown eyes staring back at him. Jack's slight fever hadn't disappeared but he wasn't any hotter. Jack grabbed his hand and pulled it down over his face. Jason's eyes opened as a fear--hope?--came over him. He'd thought Jack was going to kiss his hand and he had no damn idea where the hell *that* had come from.

"Stop nursing and eat, Jace," Jack said softly as he let go.

Jason swallowed, nodding. "You're not getting any hotter, but I can't tell for certain. There's supposed to be a goddamn thermometer in my kit. Some corpsman's getting his ass kicked when we get home."

Jack sighed and grabbed Jason's hand again and brought it to the canteen. "Unless you want me feeding you, eat. With my current condition, you'd likely be wearing the soup instead of ingesting it."

Jason couldn't help but laugh and he took the spoon from Jack's fingers. After a few minutes, he handed the spoon back and the two of them traded eating until the soup was gone. Jason set the cup down and made a small grimace.

"What?"

"Nothing a bottle of tequila won't cure."

Jack chuckled softly, careful not to jar anything in his body doing it. "Agreed, but what?"

Jason held up the canteen cup then set it back down again. "I hate freeze-dried soup. When we get home, remind me to make you my potato soup."

Jack smiled. "Deal."

They were silent for a while as Jason made an inventory of supplies and went out to check the exterior of the cave. When he returned, he took off his field vest, jacket, and fatigue shirt.

Jack eyed him, staring up at the taut black shirt. "Jason?"

"Sun's going down, Jack. Which means--"

"So's the temperature." Jack understood. Survival mode. By removing part of his clothes, Jason would be better able to give Jack his body heat. Since half of Jack's t-shirt was in ruins, Jack really did need the heat. He was starting to shiver, even through the fever.

Jason turned the sterno down low but not off and set a few of the light tubes nearby for when the current ones died. He carefully moved Jack away from the wall and settled in behind him, forcing Jack to lean against him, between his legs. Jason now had his back to the wall, and after rearranging their blankets, he cautiously put an arm around Jack. With his free hand, he then tried to get Jack to lay his head back.

"Jack, rest."

"I'm fine."

"No, lay back against me. You know how to do this. We did this in Indonesia, although that was a cake walk compared to now."

"Ya think?" Jack asked sarcastically.

Jason only snorted softly and pulled Jack's head back to rest against his right shoulder. "Just concentrate on your breathing, Jack. Focus on remaining calm."

Jack was suddenly defensive and his body tensed, which then sent fractured pain through him. "I'm...calm," he said, and knew it was obvious that he wasn't.

"I know what that knee looks like, Jack. We can talk about this when we get home, if you want, but for now, you need to forget about what may be and just focus on keeping your body calm."

Jack rolled his eyes, hating it when Jason spoke to him that way. When he 'mother henned' he really went for the annoying side. "Jason, do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Shut up."

Jason smiled. "I'm sorry. It's a bad habit. Wouldn't be so bad if I didn't give a shit."

"I know."

"I figure about another twelve hours or so before we should be getting home."

"Agreed," Jack said softly. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, just a little, in Jason's arms. He tried to unwind completely but couldn't. His anxiety and dread wouldn't let him. He'd never been in this bad a shape before, not and thinking he'd survive his injuries. He suddenly shivered violently and Jason's arms tightly slightly.

"It's okay. Shhhhh."

"Jason stop mothering me," Jack growled at him and tried to sit up but his wounds screamed in protest and it was several minutes before the pain subsided into a dull but loud ache. He felt another injection of morphine against his thigh and sighed. "You should save it."

"I have enough."

There was silence for a few minutes. "Sorry," Jack said as the medicine began to work.

"It's okay, Jack. Pain and other things are sort of making you grouchy."

Jack snorted. "That's probably the most diplomatic you've ever been to me, Jace. Don't start being that way on account of our situation."

"I'm not going to rub salt in the wound, Jack."

For some reason, the caring voice made Jack very much aware of the body underneath him. He'd been feeling Jason's warmth, but not the man underneath. He now felt the hard muscles, always so carefully honed and ready; felt the strength of the man who'd saved his life three times now. Regret began to flood Jack's mind. A thousand regrets, most having nothing to do with Jason, but some...made Jack wish he'd taken more risks. Now age and a hard, decisive life had taken those opportunities away.

Jason felt Jack tense underneath him and sighed. Jack had to be distracted, calmed, so Jason did the only thing he could think of and damn the consequences. He brought his hand up to Jack's forehead, but instead of checking for temperature, he began to brush his fingers over Jack's hair. Petting.

He then began to hum a snippet of a song. As anticipated, Jack tensed even more, though the tension was slightly different.

"Jason, what're you doing?"

"Just shut up and go with it, Jack."

Jack let out a heavy sigh. "We're having a talk about your bedside manner after we get home."

"Shhhhhh."  Jason allowed a smile to form at his lips as he resumed humming and felt Jack relax into him. It was a little while before he realized that he was singing softly...and Jack was laughing.

"Shhh. I can carry a tune."

"It's not that. It's *what* you're singing."

Jason grinned. "Hey, don't knock Ike and Tina." He continued to grin as he turned his head--and found his lips pressed against Jack's hair. Pausing for a moment, he decided not to turn away when he resumed singing. "Left a good job in the city...working for the man ev'ry night and day...then I never lost a minute of sleep when worrying 'bout the way that things might have been...Big wheels keep on turning...Proud Mary keeps on burning. Rollin'...rollin'...rollin' on the river."  He continued, singing soft, slow and bluesy, purposely choosing a tempo that would keep Jack calm. It suddenly occurred to him that the lyrics would've metaphorically matched Jack's life...if he retired. He couldn't help but wonder if Jack caught the metaphor.

Over the next several hours, Jason held his long-time friend and leader as he periodically sang snippets of songs. The efforts succeeded in keeping Jack calm and his medical status stable--for the time being. It was only when Jack became clammy and delirious that Jason felt the panic begin. Jack wafted in and out of consciousness, mumbling words Jason couldn't understand. And all throughout, Jason continued to sing softly, using every ounce of control he had not to rock Jack back and forth in his arms. If rescue didn't come soon, he knew Jack would die.

.

Jack heard Jason singing again and wondered when he'd stopped. His voice sounded muffled till Jack realized that Jason was singing into his hair. He somehow sounded like Stevie Nicks but that wasn't possible. Jason's voice was too deep, for one. And Jason was, well, a guy. A nice looking one, too. Beautiful one. One that wouldn't stop singing sappy songs, like the ones Jack had already had to endure over the last several hours. Jack was almost sure Jim Croce or Elton John had been there in the cave with them but...that was the fever. He remembered having to take more aspirin, and drink a shitload of water. At least his memory wasn't affected *that* much, and he really was starting to feel marginally better, though he needed to piss something awful.

Listening to Jason, Jack could've sworn that the man sounded...like it was his turn to fall apart, just as Jack had done all those years ago when he'd nursed Jason from a gunshot wound in Indonesia. Why he should think of that now, Jack didn't know. How could Jason be falling apart, anyway? All Jack had wrong were a few arrow wounds. Maybe it was Jason's fading voice or the fact that he was mumbling and slurring his words as he sang that made Jack think he was falling apart. It was his delirium, that was it. As Jack continued to listen, he suddenly thought Jason sounded drunk. But that wasn't right...was it?

"...Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?...Can the child within my heart rise above?...Can I sail thru the changin' ocean tides?...Can I handle the seasons of my life?...Well, I've been afraid of changin'...'cause I've built my life around you...But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I'm getting older, too...Oh, take my love, take it down...climbed a mountain and turned around...and if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills...well, the landslide will bring it down..."

Good lord, Jack thought. He's not drunk. He's...crying.

"No, no," he mumbled, hearing Jason's voice become clearer. "Don't, Jason. You sound like shit and you're messing up the song."

Jason laughed against his hair. "Don't do that to me, Jack."

"What?"

"Leave me."

"Leave you?"

"Die."

Jack shook his head slightly and turned just a bit to be able to look up into Jason's face. "Not possible. I have more lives than Daniel."

Jason gave him a wide, bright smile, showing his teeth. "You really do think you're Superman, you know that?"

Jack snorted. "I'll never be caught dead in tights though."

Jason hugged him as much as he dared. "Seriously. Don't die on me."

Jack groaned.

"What?" Jason asked.

"Don't get bent out of shape, Jace," he said, trying to sit up and making a whimpering noise when he couldn't. "Fuck."

"What is it?" Jason asked.

"Jason, I'm sorry about this but...I need that canteen cup."

"God, you can't throw up now. It's been in you too long."

"Not that, Jace. It's gone right through me. I have to piss like a Russian racehorse."

"Oh," Jason laughed with relief. He stretched out and grabbed the cup. "Hold the cup, Jack."

Jack brushed it away. "I can do it."

"No, you can't."

"I can hold my own dick, Jason, as long as I have one good arm."

"Yes, but you can't open your trousers, can you?"

Jack made an argumentative noise. "Not...quickly."

"Right. Now, here, you stubborn bastard," Jason said, giving the man the cup as he pulled Jack's trousers open. The angle was a bit awkward, but they managed to take care of business without either of them getting too embarrassed...or thinking inappropriately.

"All better?" Jason teased.

"Yeah, sssssssssure..." Jack slurred. "Oh ssssshit."

"Fuckin' hell. The fever's not broken. More aspirin, Jack."

Jack didn't hear the rest as Jason's voice faded out again, but he dutifully took the pills. "Keep singing to me," he heard himself say, and wondered why he'd ask Jason to do that.

~

Jack was now sleeping and Jason was glad. His throat was dry and raspy from singing and while he was glad that it had somehow soothed Jack, especially during his fever, he simply couldn't do it anymore. He was already fighting to stay awake, having dropped off twice. He needed to get up and move around but he wouldn't dare leave Jack.

"Hurry up you guys," he wished, staring toward the entrance. He adjusted his arms, continuing to hold Jack's sleeping form against his body. "I wish things were different, Jack," he whispered against his drying hair, damp from the fever that had finally broken an hour before. "I wish so many things." He rested his cheek there, closing his eyes for just a second. Just a second.

.

Jason raised his head sharply, his eyes wide and blinking rapidly. "Fuck." He'd fallen asleep. He then heard what had brought him from his slumber. Voices calling.

"O'Neill! Major Coburn!"

Still far away, but that was Teal'c.

"Jack! Jason!"

Daniel.

Then Major Carter's voice was followed by the sounds of his own teammates plus others.

As gently as he could, he slipped out from behind Jack, careful to lay him down, repositioning the man's jacket under his head. He stumbled, tired and weary, to the ledge of the cave's entrance and peered into the early morning light.

"Here!" he called out and heard shouts in return.

"This way! I heard him over there!"

Jason smiled and when he caught the familiar figure of his 2IC, he waved. Once certain that they knew where he was, he returned to Jack's side. The sleeping man stirred.

"Jason? Did I hear voices?"

Jason smiled. "Yes, Jack. You're not delirious."

Jack sighed. "Thank Christ. You sound funny."

"Throat's a bit sore. I haven't sung that much since High School."

"Well, sorry, Jace, but...if I had to hear any more of your singing..."

Jason only smiled at him, glad that Jack's fever had broken, though the man was far from all right. "We'll be home soon."

Jack groaned. "That's good news."

"What?"

"I have to piss again."

"You don't have to wait, you know. And you know what the wormhole's like on a full bladder. Speaking of which, I have to go find the nearest wall."

"Well, not that I'm eager to do this, but before you go..." Jack replied, reaching for the cup. "It's better than pissing myself in front of Carter."

Jason grinned. "And SG-3."

"God."

~

"You did well, Major," Janet told him as Jack was being prepped for minor surgery on his shoulder. His knee would have to wait one more day. The tip of the arrow had been cut off, but Janet's tone told him that she agreed with his decision not to remove the offending weapon.

"Thanks, Doc," Jason said, feeling a bit embarrassed as she praised him in front of the General, SG-1, and his own SG-2 team.

Lying on the gurney, Jack snorted loudly, causing everyone to look at him. Janet had him doped to the gills already. "Aw shucks, ma'am, weren't nuthin'," he teased.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"I agree with the Doctor's assessment, Major Coburn. Nice work," Hammond said warmly. "Now, what about our troublesome Colonel here?"

"General, I'm not...I didn't ask to get shot."

"He's got some healing to do, sir." She looked about her, not wanting to say some things in front of them all. "I'll know more after the surgery on his shoulder and the pre-op MRI for his knee."

Jack winced and said nothing.

Deciding to leave Jack alone with his team, Jason turned to his own and nodded at the door. Taking a step forward, Janet stopped him.

"Hold on, Major." She handed him a slip and pointed at his crutches, then at his wrapped foot.  "Foot off the floor at all times."

"I know that, Doc.  I don't need to be laid up."

"Well, that's what you're going to be for about three weeks," and again, she pointed at the slip of paper.

He eyed her suspiciously and frowning, stared down at the piece of paper, reading it to be a medical assignment order.  "Orthopedics? Are you kidding?" he asked, incredulous. He looked down at the blue hospital bootie that covered the thick elastic bandage on his foot. "I thought it was just a sprained arch."

"Well, your boot kept it immobilized, so you wouldn't have known.  You have a minor fracture," and she again pointed at the slip and smirked at him as she crossed her arms. "So...you get to have a cast."

"Sh...it!" he exclaimed loudly, then lowered his voice because the General was still standing nearby. "My apologies, General."

"That's alright, son. The both of you are lucky to be home in one piece."

"Yes, sir."

Jack was still processing what Janet had said and his eyes narrowed at Jason for not being careful. Jason rarely got injured, and when he did, it was minor. He was almost a good luck charm. "How'd he do this?" he asked Janet, though his eyes remained trained on Jason, forcing the man look away.

"From the Major's account of things, sir, it likely happened while hoisting you up that cliff."

"Damn it," Jack complained. When Jason started to look defensive as well as ashamed, Jack's eyes softened. "Could've been worse, I suppose," he added. "The General's right, Major. We're lucky to be in one piece," and he looked down in the direction of his immobilized knee.

"You're right, Colonel," Janet told him. She inclined her head and said in a softer tone, "It would also be fair to say that you won't be doing anymore cross-country running." Her words sounded like a joke, but they were serious. Jack's days in the field were over, as was his leadership of SG-1.

Jack's sigh was audible in the now silent room. Two corpsmen showed up then, breaking the heavy silence. Janet stepped aside and gestured for them to wheel Jack down the hall.

"Hold up," he said, raising his hand and pointing to Jason. "A word." Jason stepped forward, his dark eyes intense with worry. "We still have a soup date. Don't go far."

Jason grinned. "Not going anywhere, but I think it'll be a while before you get sprung from this joint."

Jack gave him a grin and without further delay, was taken away. Jason turned around and suddenly found curious faces staring at him. He then realized that Jack had used the word 'date' and he hadn't even blinked.

"Okay, you know he didn't mean 'date' date. He's doped up and obviously not thinking clearly."

Everyone smiled, snorted, and shook their heads, including Hammond. "We understand," he said.

"Although this does give us ammunition for future requirements," Teal'c added, his smile looking extremely plotting and dangerous. Sam and Daniel couldn't help but grin mischievously.

Jason passed a hand over his eyes.

~

Jack made a face as he bumped, for the third time that day, the frame of his leg brace against the corner of the kitchen counter. Just over four weeks out of surgery and his knee still hurt like a sonofabitch. He also knew that the pain, while it would dull, would always be there, just as the brace would be. Janet had told him that the surgery had gone overly long because they'd had to surgically remove the arrow, piece by splintered piece. The blood and moisture from his leg had caused the damn thing to soften and degrade, disintegrating inside his kneecap. Strangely, the wood had served as a temporary shoring device, holding his knee together until the surgery.

Jack would walk again without need of brace or cane, but it would be a long, hard road, filled with physical therapy while his body adjusted and healed around the newly crafted plastic and metal knee. But Janet had been right. His days with SG-1 were over. The good news was that while he wouldn't be able to run for long distances with the new knee, he would be allowed back into the field on a limited basis. Jack had been relieved to hear that--and even more so because Janet had allowed Jason to give him the news...minus the medical terminology.

So, no permanent desk duty, but he still had it. Jack had thought about returning to retirement, but as before, he opted for the chance to make a difference and be part of the program. For as long as possible, that is. He'd made some other decisions that might speed up that retirement. He leaned against the wall on his good shoulder, staring intently. Jason was singing to the radio and Jack knew for a fact that Jason had no idea what he was singing, though it was ironically appropriate.

"If the sun refused to shine...I would still be loving you..."

Jason stood before the stove, stirring the seasoning into the large pot of potato soup. When he caught Jack staring, he stopped singing. "Something on your mind?" he asked pleasantly. Lifting the long spoon, he blew on the hot liquid and dipped his pinky into it. As he lifted his finger to his mouth to taste, he paused when he realized the expression on Jack's face was very serious...if not sexually charged. Jason decided quickly that that last bit was his own hopeful interpretation and had nothing whatsoever to do with reality.

"What?"

Jack stared a little longer and pushed off the wall, taking the few short steps toward Jason to close the distance between them. His heart began to beat faster, his adrenalin getting ready to skyrocket. He hoped he wouldn't be crashing back to Earth anytime soon but Jason's...responses...were sometimes as unpredictable as the natives had been on that miserable planet.

"Remember what we talked about in Indonesia, waiting for...well, death?"

Jason nodded slowly, absently stirring the soup. "I remember. I also remember we'd agreed to never discuss it again."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yes, but that was twelve years ago. And...things are much different now."

Jason breathed deeply then held it a second before exhaling. "Are they? What about the risks?"

Jason could feel the excitement taking over his breathing, his blood, as the man closed the distance. When Jack took the spoon, brought a little of the soup to his mouth, blowing on it, cooling it, Jason was quite certain he'd never seen anything so damned erotic.

"That song you were singing?" he asked, still hearing it on the radio.

Startled by the contrary and abrupt subject change, Jason frowned and shook his head as if to clear it. "What about it?"

"Strangely appropriate."

Jason blinked as he watched Jack's lips cautiously sip and an erotic image came unbidden. When Jack set the spoon down, he added, "It's good."

Jason was off-balance and he hated that; hated that he always managed to let Jack do that to him, too. "Thanks. But risks? The song? The point?" Jack took a step, moving directly into Jason's personal space. So personal that their shirts and the belts of their jeans were touching. There was a brief 'hello' from thigh material as well. Jason swallowed convulsively.

"'Thank you' is an appropriate song," Jack answered quietly, "and as for the mention of risks...just thinking that there aren't that many anymore. Have I thanked you for saving my life?"

"Not necessary," Jason said, putting his hand up to keep Jack distant. "And if that's what this is, there's no--"

"No, that's not what this is," Jack said just before he tilted his head slightly to brush his lips over Jason's. He felt the burn of need deep inside his belly and his cock swelled, lengthening inside the tight confinement of his jeans. "Nowhere close," he whispered as his hands skimmed tentatively over Jason's ribs.

Jason's mind whirled and he spoke against the chaste-but-promising kiss. "Okay, just check--"  His words were cut off as Jack kissed him, hard, the passion behind it clear and meaningful. Opening his mouth and clasping the man's back, Jason felt rather than heard the moan escaping his throat.

Thoughts of long ago entered his mind and he remembered the soft, loving, and very scared kiss he'd received all those years ago. He'd been the one to decide that the kiss had been nothing more than a reaction to fear, the need to be close, and had stopped it before the kiss would have proved him wrong. As he knew it would have. Their friendship had amazingly remained intact and through the years, Jason had been gratified and pleased that Jack had not chosen to be distant, as he had done with so many of his relationships. Even, or maybe especially, with his ex-wife.

His thoughts were brought back to the present when Jack pulled away and took his hand, leading him out of the kitchen and down the hall. To the...bathroom?

"Jack?" he asked, watching as the barefooted man sat on the edge of the newly installed jacuzzi and started up the water.

"Think the soup will be okay simmering for awhile?" he asked, not looking up at Jason as he unbuckled the brace, letting it fall the short distance to the floor.

Jason blinked, not understanding why Jack was asking. It was clear he was going to take a bath, and Jason felt a sudden surge of anger, of feeling used. Jack looked up at him, his expression dark...needy. Needy? Or wanting?

"What do you want from me?" Jason asked.

Jack held out his hand. "Help me stand."

Jason did so, watching as the man he loved more than anything fought for dignity as he leaned against the vanity and removed his t-shirt. His dog tags clinked as they fell between his pecs, the small amount of hair slightly masking the chain that held them. Jason stared at them for a moment before his eyes moved up to the scar over the left shoulder, now mostly healed and pink. He looked south then. And he saw the hint of excitement through the denim material. Jack unzipped his jeans and when he put most of his weight on his left leg, the pants were shoved down, along with the briefs. He was hard. Very.

Again, Jason swallowed convulsively. The anger fled and was quickly replaced with arousal. Jack reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, which Jason caught and supported as Jack stepped out of his clothes and limped over to the bath, gingerly stepping inside. Already used to helping Jack do this--getting him into the bath for much needed knee therapy--part of Jason was still wondering if Jack was going to take a regular bath...or if he'd be directly invited for something else. He wouldn't dare assume. Not now. He'd shared the large bath with Jack before, but that was...before.

"You'll need to get out of those," Jack gestured with a hint of a smile. He carefully sat down on one of the jacuzzi's form-fit bench seats, groaning with both relief and sensitivity as he submerged himself in the fastly-rising water. His waist was just barely covered and the purplish head of his cock poked through the rippling surface of the water.

Jason felt his mouth water and his thighs weaken, not really hearing what Jack had said.

"Jace?"

Swallowing again, Jason nodded and slowly removed his clothes, pointedly keep his eyes fixed on Jack's. As he stripped, he felt a deep satisfaction when Jack swallowed, too. Stepping into the hot water, the intense vibration of the tub hit his balls first. Jack had chosen that moment to start up the water jets. Jason groaned and started to sit on the bench across from Jack.

"Jason, what're you doing?" he asked, pulling him over, his hands--underwater-sliding over the back of Jason's thighs. Jason lost balance then, grabbing for the lip of the bath on either side of Jack's shoulders. Despite the healing wound, Jason didn't want to injure him. He suddenly gasped as his legs were spread and pulled down.

"Sit," Jack told him, leaning his head back on the cushioned lip of the tub.

"Not on your knees, Jack."

"No, my thighs." With that Jack roughly pulled a resisting (barely) Jason until their groins were nestled together. "I'm not going to break," Jack told him, "and if you don't stop treating me with kid gloves, I'm kicking you out."

Jason absently nodded, preoccupied as his knees spread further, resting almost uncomfortably on the bench. His cock rubbed against Jack's and that took up most of his attention. That and the fact that a wet hand now held him by the back of the head while he received a deep, hungry kiss. He groaned loudly when the other hand pressed against the center of his ass, the middle finger sliding into the cleft. Holding him there, Jack moved his hips but couldn't use leverage to grind against him. It didn't matter. Jason did it for him.

His lust and want increased a thousand fold and Jason kissed Jack harder while he took firm hold of his waist, holding him as he ground and thrust slowly.

Jack broke first, none-too-gently pulling Jason's head back by his hair. "Yes," he gasped and kissed him again.

The rubbing contact wasn't enough, for either of them. Jason's fingers curled around both cocks, holding tightly as he thrust, creating a delicious friction. Jack made a pleasing noise which he echoed. His rhythm increased, splashing the water over the lip of the bath. Breaking off, Jason stared down into Jack's face, the fingers of his free hand clutching the man's hair. There were no words yet. Eye contact was their only communication through the harsh panting. Their faces were flushed with need, anticipating the approaching release.

"Come for me," Jason finally said as he tightened his fist and increased the demanding rhythm of his hips.

Jack's eyes darkened with hidden intent. "You first," and his intent was realized as his middle finger, still resting in the cleft of Jason's ass, quickly slid down and inside.

"JesusYes!" Jason exclaimed and thrust rapidly, needing and wanting that finger so badly. Jack obliged and when he thrust deep and found the sweet nub inside, Jason's head dropped back, his eyes squeezing shut. "Jack!" he chanted through desperate pants as he came hard, his semen coating their skin as well as the water. He continued to thrust but Jack's other hand took over, covering his own, making him jerk faster.

When Jack closed his eyes and bit his lip through a loud groan, Jason whispered, "That's it! Come for me." Jack's voice rose louder as his release shot through him in powerful waves. His semen mixed with Jason's, dotting their skin, the water.

They held onto each other, waiting for the afterglow to calm. When it did, Jason started to pull away but Jack held him fast. "No, don't go."

Jason looked down into the sated yet worried eyes and planted a fierce kiss on him, designed to let Jack know that he wasn't going anywhere, no matter what. When the kiss gentled and Jack pulled him away, he brushed a thumb over Jason's swollen lips, staring at their fullness before returning to meet his gaze.

"I never took you for such a sap, singing to me the way you did."

Jason smiled at the suddenness of the statement, the subject. The words said more than they sounded and Jason felt a heat of happy relief flood through him. "I'll probably do it again."

"Really?" Jack asked, his voice light with mischief. "I don't think I'll be in that situation again."

Jason tilted his head, regarding him. He leaned down, kissing softly. "Oh, you know. All sorts of other situations call for it. But I promise it won't be as long-suffering as the cave."

"I never said I suffered," Jack replied as he wiggled the finger still inside Jason and grinned at the answering moan.

~

End