Trauma 4

The Storm

by SJSlashfan

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ass/sjslashfan/trauma04.php
Summary: Janet is finding it hard to cope with her problems.
Info: concluding chapter.

"Think you can manage the oatmeal now, sweetie?" Sam asked her lover tenderly, realizing that Janet was still processing the bad news about her hand.

"Okay," Janet's voice was small. In truth, she didn't want to release Sam. She needed to feel her warm strength, to touch her, to feel safe in her arms.

"Okay if I stay right here while you eat?" Sam asked, fully aware of how shaken Janet was.

"Yeah," Janet said. "Please."

Sam reached out and grabbed the bowl of oatmeal, holding it in front of Janet. She kept a tight hold of the bowl, knowing that Janet would have difficulties holding it with her damaged hand while she ate using the other.

After a few spoonfuls, Janet pushed the bowl to one side. "S'enough," she said, tiredly.

"Okay, baby," Sam's voice was tender and loving. "Close your eyes for a while, Jan. I'm staying right here, is that okay?"

Janet just burrowed deep into Sam's front. She noticed that her damaged hand was twitching, and tried to still it with her right hand. Sam just reached for the twisted limb, and held it lovingly in her own hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing it. "It'll be okay, Jan, I swear to you," she whispered, as she saw the stricken look on her lover's face. "We're gonna get you all the physical therapy you need." She caressed the fingers gently and slowly the twitching stopped. Sam cradled Janet in her strong arms until she finally fell to sleep.

= = =

"You're looking good, Janet," Frankie said as she arrived at the mountain that evening. She wasn't due on duty until 9pm, but had decided to come in early to check on her favorite patient. "Much more like your old self."

Sam smiled broadly. "She looks great, doesn't she Frankie?"

"I look horrible," Janet smiled too. "Please tell me I can have a shower, Frankie? And get rid of this damned catheter? I feel real grubby and stale."

Frankie looked concerned. "I'm not sure you're strong enough for a shower, Janet," she said. "I don't think you're ready to be on your feet just yet."

"What if I take her?" Sam suggested. "I can hold her the whole time."

Janet looked pleadingly at Frankie. "Okay," Frankie laughed. "You can take her Sam, if you use the handicapped stall at the other end of the infirmary. It's bigger, and it's got handles. And you're going there and back in a chair Janet," she said firmly.

"Okay," Janet said. In truth, she didn't think she could walk that far anyway, so she didn't argue.

While Frankie removed Janet's catheter, Sam sprinted off to her quarters and to the locker room, to get fresh clothes for both of them. Also, she wanted Janet to have her own shampoo and toiletries, so that she would feel more human. By the time she had returned, Frankie had collected a wheelchair, which was lined with two huge, thick towels. "As soon as you get out of the shower, you put Janet right back in here, and wrap her warmly, okay?" Frankie instructed. "There are also toweling robes in the shower room. I've told the nursing staff to put a plastic chair in the stall. I don't want you carrying Janet the whole time Sam, you'll both be safer on the chair. And you're not to lock the door. Sharon's going to be sitting outside the whole time, so you just call if you need anything. Okay?"

Sam laughed. "Yes, Ma'am," she saluted smartly, making Janet smile too. "I'll take real good care of her, Frankie," she promised.

"I know you will, Sam," Frankie smiled back. "Janet couldn't be in safer hands."

= = =

"God that's good," Janet breathed, as she stood pressed to Sam's front, under the warm spray, with Sam supporting her firmly with one hand, using the other to massage shampoo into Janet's hair. She rinsed her off, and then used a washcloth to rub scented shower gel into Janet's skin. Sam tried not to notice how thin and frail her lover was, and instead just concentrated on how she would help her regain her strength. And her mobility, she thought sadly.

Sam felt Janet's legs begin to tremble, and lifted her effortlessly into her arms, moving them both to the chair. "You okay, sweetie?" she put a soft hand to Janet's cheek.

"Yeah," Janet said. "I'm great," she looked deep into her lover's eyes, seeing concern and love. "Kiss me," she asked quietly.

Sam cupped her cheek, and kissed her very tenderly on the lips.

"More," Janet demanded. "Kiss me properly. Like you mean it."

Sam smiled. "I always mean it Jan," she said softly. She kissed her again, more deeply, and was gratified to feel Janet responding. She then felt Janet's uninjured hand reached up and caress one of her breasts tenderly, and she gasped involuntarily. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she tried to stifle a sob.

"Sam?" Janet asked. "What's wrong, hon?"

"Nothin'," Sam replied, pulling herself together. "It's just so wonderful to feel you again. Like that, I mean. I was so scared before, Jan, that we might never be together again."

Janet took the initiative this time, and kissed Sam passionately, her tongue pushing insistently at Sam's lips, demanding and gaining entrance. "We'll always be together Sam," she whispered.

Sam tightened her grip on her. "We will," she agreed. She rocked Janet gently in her arms for a couple of minutes, as the warm water pounded therapeutically over both of them. "Okay," she said quietly, getting carefully to her feet, Janet still in her arms. "We can't have you getting cold."

She stepped out of the shower, taking great care not to mis-step, and placed Janet lovingly into the chair, wrapping the warm towels round her. She then grabbed a robe from the hook on the door and swiftly put it on. Taking another towel, she tenderly at Janet's hair, getting as much of the moisture out of it as she could. "You warm enough there, baby?" she asked Janet.

Janet smiled. "I'm great," she answered, cocooned as she was in the thick warm towels. Sam took the other robe, and wrapped that round her too. She then put a pair of warm socks on her feet. Janet smiled again. "I'm plenty warm, Sam, I swear," she said.

Sam grinned back. "Just makin' sure," she said. She then dressed swiftly in the fresh BDUs she had set out for herself. "Ready for some clean clothes?" she asked Janet.

"God yes," Janet said.

Sam brought over a favorite t-shirt and shorts that she had asked Sharon to collect from Janet's house on her way into work that day, along with a bagful of other basics including toiletries, cosmetics and several changes of clothes.

"Oh Sam," Janet was so moved. "How did you organize that?" she asked.

"I just thought you'd be more comfortable wearing your own stuff," she shrugged.

"C'mere," Janet instructed, and kissed her deeply. "You don't know what that means to me. I don't think I could bear one more day in that gown."

"I don't know," Sam cocked her head, looking at her sideways. "I kinda like the way it shows your butt. That's a sight I can stand to see every now and again." She grinned.

= = =

Frankie was waiting for them when they got back to Janet's room. "Okay?" she asked.

"Great," Janet smiled. "I can't tell you how nice it is to be clean again."

Sam reached down and tenderly lifted Janet from the chair, placing her back on the bed. She noted approvingly that there were fresh, clean sheets on it. "I can walk," Janet objected mildly.

"Well I'm not gonna let you. Not yet," Sam said. "You look all-in Jan. Think you can sleep again?" She looked over and saw that Janet was staring disconsolately at her hand, which was curled into a tight claw and was jerking rhythmically. "Oh baby," Sam said gently. She put her hand over the distressed limb, and gathered Janet into her arms. She could tell that Janet was trying desperately not to cry. "Let it out, hon," she said, rubbing her back and kissing her softly as Janet's body shook with tears.

Frankie felt like a voyeur as she watched the two women lost in their own private misery, clinging desperately to each other for support.

Once Janet had calmed, Sam tenderly lay her down on the pillows, and kissed her softly.

"That's always going to be worse when you're tired, or you've exerted yourself, or if you're upset," Frankie reminded Janet gently. "That was the first time you've moved out of that bed for days. That was bound to trigger a reaction."

Janet just nodded glumly.

"We're okay, Frankie, aren't we Jan?" Sam said quietly. "It's all gonna be okay."

"I'll get Karen Meadows to call in tomorrow," Frankie said, "talk to you about physical therapy. The sooner we do something about it, the better the recovery will be."

Janet nodded again.

= = =

"There's a good chance we can restore full mobility," Karen Meadows told the anxious Janet and Sam. "The important thing at this stage is that we get straight on with therapy. You need to do the exercises as often as you can manage Janet. Do you think you can do that?"

"I'll do them all the time," Janet said determinedly.

"And you need to massage that hand at least twice a day, for at least 20 minutes at a time. Maybe you can help with that Sam?"

"Of course," Sam replied, glad to have something practical to do.

"The neural pathways have been damaged," Meadows explained. "But the body is an amazing thing. You can relearn. It's impossible to say at this stage whether you'll ever be back to 100%. But we can certainly improve things drastically. How much depends on you."

"We'll do everything we can," Sam said firmly. "Won't we sweetie?"

Janet nodded again, looking a little lost. She reached out and took Sam's hand.

"When you aren't exercising, or massaging, I want you to wear this splint as much as you can bear," Meadows said. "It'll be uncomfortable, I know, but it'll help to teach your body that your hand and fingers should be straight. If you can bear to wear it at night, that should help enormously. And for as much as you can bear during the day. I'll show you how to put it on, Sam," she said to the blonde. "It'll probably be too difficult for Janet to manage on her own, to start with at least."

She then demonstrated how to get Janet's hand and fingers straight, and then to strap them in to the plastic split, using the velcro fastenings.

"That looks real sore," Sam sounded distressed. "How does it feel Jan?"

"S'okay," Janet said, in a monotone, suddenly bone weary.

Meadows noticed the change in her patient. "I'll come back tomorrow. You should probably rest now, Janet."

"Think you can sleep again, Jan?" Sam asked her tenderly.

"Yeah," Janet said. "'m tired."

Sam leant down in order to lift Janet out of the chair and back on to the bed. "No," Janet said. "I want to do it by myself. I need to do it."

"Okay," Sam said. "Whatever you want, baby. Let me help if you need me though, huh?"

Janet nodded. "We'll do it together," she compromised. She reached out for Sam's hand and, painfully, levered herself to her feet. Leaning heavily against Sam, she shuffled the three steps to the bed, and sat down heavily, swaying slightly. She looked up at Sam, and grinned wearily. "See!" she said. "Told you I could do it."

"Want me to get your legs?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Janet said smiling. "You surely don't expect me to do all the work? I've been sick, you know."

Sam lifted her legs on to the bed, and tucked her lovingly into bed. "Frankie was right," she said, grinning.

"What?" Janet demanded.

"You medics really are the worst patients!"

Janet opened her mouth to object, but Sam stopped it with a kiss. "Sleep," she instructed her.

= = =

"You're good at that," Janet said to Sam, as the blonde tenderly massaged her hand. For the fourth day running, Sam had insisted on massaging her hand three times a day.

"Any excuse to touch you," Sam smiled. "There," she kissed her hand. "You're done. Until tonight, that is."

"Thanks," Janet said in a small voice. "I suppose I should put the splint back on." She grimaced. Her hand felt so good while Sam was massaging it, and she knew that almost as soon as the splint went back on, it would stiffen and become painful.

"How about I hold it for a while first?" Sam suggested, gently stretching it in her own hand. "We'll put it back on in an hour, huh?"

"Thanks," Janet whispered. Somehow Sam could read her every emotion and knew how to make her feel better.

Sam realized Janet was beginning to get depressed. As she slept gradually less every day, so she became more aware of her limitations. She had been allowed to get fully dressed for the first time that morning, which Sam had hoped would cheer her. She had even left her to dress on her own, as she was worrying that she was doing too much for her, and becoming patronizing. But her heart had bled when she returned to Janet's room after ten minutes, to find her sitting on the bed, in tears, naked from the waist upwards, her bra in her hand. "I can't do it, Sam," Janet had wailed. "I can't even put my damned bra on."

Sam had gently prised the garment from her hands, and slipped it on her, securing it at the back. As Janet showed no sign of further movement, she then took her shirt, and helped her into it, doing up the buttons. "There," she had said. "I'm sorry, baby, it's my fault. I should have realized." And she had wrapped her long arms round her lover, and just held her tight for a few moments.

Sam could see that Janet was trying to be brave, but was finding it hard. She also intensely disliked staying in the infirmary. All the other doctors, and the nursing staff, were usually part of her efficient team. She couldn't bear being the patient.

"I wanna take her home, Frankie," Sam told Michaels five days after they had both seen Meadows for the first time. "She's not getting any better here. You can come visit her. I think she'll be able to relax more in her own house."

To Sam's surprise, Michaels agreed. She gave Sam a whole list of instructions, and numbers to call if she should need to. She also handed her a large bag of drugs. "Dosages and timings are all on the bottles," Frankie said. "These should help her."

= = =

"Home sweet home, huh?" Janet tried to muster a smile as Sam helped her through her own front door. She had begged Sam not to carry her in, and was determined that she would make it on her own two feet.

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "At last. Though I'm staying too Jan, if you can bear that. I know you probably want your own space, but I promised Frankie I'd be with you for the next two weeks at least."

"I'm glad," Janet said. "I don't want to be alone. I need you Sam."

"And I need you too, Jan," Sam said as she led her to the couch. "Stay there. I'll make tea."

= = =

"Are you ready for this?" Sam lifted the splint that Janet was beginning to hate. They had just changed for bed, and Sam was nervous of suggesting the splint, knowing what it would do to Janet's mood.

"Not yet," Janet said. "Soon. Come here, sweetie. I want to hold you."

Sam smiled tenderly. She had deliberately not put any pressure on Janet to resume their normally very active sex life. She knew her lover was feeling terribly vulnerable, quite apart from her physical condition. So she had decided she would wait until Janet made the first move. That this might be that first move filled Sam with joy. She sat next Janet, and reached out tenderly, cupping her soft cheek. "You're so beautiful," she told her.

"Right back at ya," Janet tried to joke. She was suddenly terribly nervous. Intellectually, she knew that her problems with her hand wouldn't make her any less attractive to Sam. But she couldn't help feeling disabled, clumsy and unattractive. She couldn't imagine why anybody would ever want to make love to her again. But as she looked up, she saw the familiar darkening of Sam's stunning eyes and realized gratefully that her disability didn't make any difference to her.

"Will you kiss me?" Janet asked in a small voice.

Sam leant forward, and kissed her, so softly at first that Janet wasn't sure if she had imagined it. But then the pressure on her lips came again, and again, becoming more passionate. She started to respond to Sam's passion, and soon the two women were clinging desperately to each other, their tongues intermingling, and their breath shortening.

Sam felt Janet's hand reach out and unbutton her pajama top, pushing it one-handed down her arms, so that she was soon wearing only the pajama bottoms. Janet gasped at the sight of Sam's full breasts, and she leant forward, taking one pert pink nipple in her hot mouth. Sam moaned with pleasure, feeling the nipple growing ever harder in response to the ministrations of Janet's talented tongue.

Janet pulled back momentarily, and with her one good hand, pulled her own nightshirt over her head in one smooth movement. Sam felt her throat constrict with emotion. "You're just stunning," she told Janet, trying to prevent her voice from cracking.

Janet smiled warmly, and leaned in for another kiss. Their kissing became more and more intense, until Janet pushed Sam gently back on the bed, pressing herself against Sam's long lean body. She slipped her tongue back into Sam's mouth, and started to move her good hand down Sam's body, when without warning her bad hand started to jerk. She tried to hold it still, but the harder she tried, the less control she had and soon the spasm became violent and painful.

Sam immediately sat up, reaching out to take spasming limb, massaging it gently between her fingers until eventually it stilled. She looked up, and saw to her horror that Janet's face was white with shock, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "Jan?" she said. "Are you okay, baby?"

Janet pulled away from Sam, snatching her hand and cradling it to her chest. "M'okay," she said sharply.

"Jan?" Sam reached out and laid a hand on her leg.

"No!" Janet almost shouted, jumping off the bed.

"Jan? Where are you going baby?" Sam tried not to cry.

"Gotta pee," Janet said shortly, bolting into the bathroom and shutting the door. Sam's heart broke when she heard the key turn in the lock. They had never needed to lock doors.

Sam gave Janet ten minutes, then got up and went and knocked on the bathroom door. "Baby? Are you okay?" she asked. "Janet, sweetie, let me in. Please."

Janet was curled up on the bathroom floor, shaking with shock and cold. She heard the desperation in Sam's voice. She felt so miserable, and now she was making Sam miserable too. How could Sam ever forgive her for her fit of temper? She reached up and turned the key.

Sam entered the bathroom, and saw Janet rocking miserably on the floor, cold, naked and frightened. Quickly she lifted the robe from the back of the door, and wrapped it round Janet. She knelt on the floor next to her, one hand on her back, the other stroking a soft cheek. "It'll be okay, baby," she whispered gently to her. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay."

Janet turned into Sam's embrace, tears overwhelming her and she sobbed, letting out all the pent-up miseries and frustrations she had been trying to tamp down for days. When she eventually stilled, Sam kissed her softly. "Can I take you back to bed, baby?" she asked. "You're like ice."

Janet nodded miserably, so Sam got to her feet, and scooped Janet off the floor, holding her to her chest like a frightened child. She put her back into the bed, and climbed in next to her. Abandoning all thoughts of love-making, she pulled Janet to her, and held her tight.

"Splint?" Janet asked in a small voice.

"How about we leave it off tonight, huh?" Sam suggested. She knew that the splint was important, but she judged that Janet's mental state was too fragile to consider it tonight. And one night would not make any difference.

= = =

Over the next two weeks, Janet tried her best to adopt a positive mental attitude. She did her exercises as often as possible, and allowed Sam to strap her into the hated splint for most of the day and all of the night. She made some progress, but to her it was horribly slow. She also felt guilty that Sam was with her day and night. She knew how important Sam's career was, and it was now nearly three weeks since Sam had done any work at all.

"You should go back to work," Janet announced one morning. "I'm fine here. I can't keep you away from the mountain any longer."

Sam reached out and took her hand. "You're not keeping me away, baby, I'm where I want to be. The colonel knows that, says I don't have to come back until we're both ready."

"I am ready, Sam," Janet said. "I can do most things on my own now. Anyway, it's time I spent some time alone. Come to terms with things."

Sam peered at her closely. "How about I go back mornings for a while, see how it goes?" she suggested.

"Yeah," Janet agreed. "That'd be good. Give us both something else to think about for a while. Rather than this damned thing," she looked bitterly at her hand.

= = =

"She seems so angry," Sam confided in Frankie toward the end of her first week back working mornings. "Sometimes I don't seem to get through at all. It's not like Janet, she's usually so positive. So upbeat. She never lets things get to her."

"She's been through a terrible trauma," Frankie said gently. "It's gonna take her a while to adjust. Sam?" she looked up in horror, to realize that the captain had started to cry. "What is it, Sam?"

"Sometimes I don't think she loves me any more," Sam admitted. "I think I'm just beginning to irritate her. Maybe because I'm always making her put her splint on, or massaging her hand. She won't even make love, Frankie," Sam blushed. "She just pushes me away. Tells me she's not ready."

"Give her time," Frankie said gently. "She loves you Sam. More than she loves breathing. Keep remembering that."

= = =

Sam started to dread going home, and was extending her mornings so that they were finishing around 4pm. She knew that she was wrong to do so, but Janet just seemed so pissed when she was around. Twice already she had refused outright to let Sam put her splint on in the morning before leaving for work, and she was rarely even wearing it at night.

The last three days Sam had come home to find Janet lying in her pajamas on the couch. As far as Sam could tell from looking in the kitchen, Janet hadn't even eaten. So each night, despite her limited culinary skills, Sam made a plate of basic food, and all but forced Janet to eat a good portion of it. "Please, honey," she pleaded. "You're still far too thin."

Janet hated the way she was behaving. She loved Sam more than life, more than she had ever imagined it was possible for one person to love another one. But she was pushing her away, behaving despicably. And still Sam came home to her, cooked for her, tried to persuade her to shower, to get dressed, to get out of the house. And even though she knew she'd get hell for it, Sam still insisted on massaging Janet's hand three times a day. This was now the only contact that Janet would allow. She knew that whatever she said, Sam would insist. So she looked forward to the massage, feeling Sam's tender fingers touch her, care for her.

Janet wished she could let Sam in, but she just couldn't. She hoped that eventually Sam would leave her, find somebody who deserved her.

= = =

Sam came home at 6.30pm one evening. "I'm sorry, honey," she called as she came through the door. "I couldn't get out any earlier, there was a problem in the MALP room. I tried to call you, guess you were in the bathroom?" Sam tried to keep her tone light, but feared what Janet's reaction would be. There was no answer.

She went into the living room, and saw Janet wearing the same stained pajamas she had had on for the last six days. Sam had given up trying to get her to shower. She hoped that eventually Janet would make that decision for herself. She saw an open bottle of whisky, and could tell from the expression on Janet's face that she wasn't entirely sober. She also saw the hated splint on the floor. Broken into pieces.

"Oh Jan," Sam said, unable to keep quiet any longer. "What are you doing to yourself?"

Janet sat up, and fixed her with a steely gaze. "What's wrong, Captain?" she asked icily. "Is your gimp girlfriend not living up to your high standards? Poor perfect Captain Carter," she laughed mockingly, "stuck with a crippled girlfriend, too kind to leave her. Move out then. Find yourself a better specimen."

Sam just looked at her in horror.

"You look surprised!" Janet continued, unable to stop her vicious rant. "Admit it. It's true. You can't want me any more. Look at me! I'm a mess. I can't do anything. I can't work. I can't even put my damned bra on. You can't want me. Be honest, Sam, you don't even want to make love with me any more. Well let me make it easy for you. You can leave whenever you want."

Sam felt as though a stake had been driven through her heart. Deep down, she knew that this was not Janet. This was the result of the weeks of trauma that they had both been through. But damn it, they had both been through the wringer, not just Janet. She suddenly became angry in response.

"Don't you dare," she replied, icily. "Don't you dare presume to know how I feel. I know you've been through a terrible ordeal. I know that. I was there. But have you ever stopped to think that this is not all about you? Yes, you've had a rough deal. There's no denying that. But think again. Think how lucky you are."

"Lucky?" Janet yelled, shaking her twisted hand at her. "You call this lucky?"

"Yes," Sam replied. "I do. You're a doctor. You know what meningitis can do. It can cause septicaemia. Amputations. Deafness. Blindness. Memory loss. Epilepsy. Brain damage. And death, Janet, you know how many people die of meningitis each and every week. And it was nearly you," she was shouting now. "You nearly died. In my arms. Did you hear me? You. Nearly. Died. You had a fever of 104.7. Nobody thought you'd last until the morning. I could have left then if I was going to. But I didn't. I took you in my arms and I held you. I wanted you to know how loved you were. If you were going to die," tears were streaming down Sam's face, "I couldn't bear you to die alone. So I got onto the bed with you. And I held you. You could hardly breathe. Each breath you took was so difficult. So painful. And I thought each one would be the last one. I was convinced you would die that night in my arms."

Janet looked on in horror as Sam recounted the tale that she had up to then kept to herself.

"So don't tell me this is all about you. Do you know how many times I wished I could trade places with you? I'd rather have died than lose you. I still would. I can't live without you Janet. And as for making love with you, you're the one that keeps pulling away from me. Do you have the slightest idea how much our lovemaking means to me? Making love to you is the purest thing I have ever done. To me, there is no single thing in this world that is more erotic than holding you, watching your face, as you come. That sound you make. It tips me over the edge every time. Do you realize that we haven't made love for 47 days now? That's the longest we've ever gone without sex. But that's because you didn't want to, not me. And I didn't want to push you. I thought it would all be okay once you were ready again. But I love you so much Janet, that even if you were never ready again, I would still rather be with you than with anybody else. And if," a look of disgust came over her face, "if for one moment you think that this," she reached out and took Janet's twisted hand, "makes the slightest difference to how I feel about you, then I'm ashamed of you. Of us. I'm ashamed of what we've come to."

Janet stood open-mouthed in front of Sam, shame overwhelming her.

"I'm not going to leave you, Janet. If you think that being mean, stopping your exercises, breaking your splint, behaving in this self-pitying way, refusing even to wash or get dressed, is going to scare me into leaving, then you're wrong. If you want me to go, then you're gonna have to tell me so. I'll never stop loving you, wanting you, but I'll go if you want me to. But you're going to have to kick me out. Then you can sit in your stinking clothes, and drink yourself to death. Just don't ever expect me not to care. To stop loving you. Don't ever expect that."

Sam suddenly couldn't breathe. She rushed to the garden door, and struggled with the lock to get out of the house. She felt Janet's hand on her shoulder. "No!," she shouted, "leave me alone," and at that the door opened, and she flung herself into the garden, taking in deep lungfuls of air. She ran to a dark corner of the deck, and fell to her knees, her body wracked with tears as she gasped and sobbed.

= = =

Back in the living room, Janet had never felt so ashamed of herself her whole life. She couldn't believe what she had come to. She had thrown away everything that had ever mattered. Well, she decided, she wasn't going to just let it go like that. Sam was too important to her. Her hand didn't matter, she realized. It didn't matter to Sam, not in the slightest. Sam loved her. And she loved Sam with every fiber of her being. She sank down on the couch, her head in her hands. Then she stood up. She cleared the living room of debris, including the broken splint. She would replace that tomorrow, she promised herself.

She tipped the rest of the whisky down the kitchen sink. She wondered wryly whether Sam would appreciate this symbolic gesture. This was after all a bottle of single malt that she kept in the closet for Sam, who was a whisky connoisseur. She would go out tomorrow and buy her the most expensive bottle she could find, she decided. If Sam still wanted to be with her.

She went into the bedroom, and peeled off her filthy pajamas, which she then dropped into the trash. She never wanted to see those pajamas again. She went into the bathroom, and stepped into the shower. The water cleansed more than her body. As the hard droplets pounded her, she gave in to the relief of tears.

After ten minutes, she came out of the shower. She looked in the mirror, seeing her puffy face. She applied a light make-up, trying to disguise her earlier tears. She then put on Sam's favorite scent, and rifled through the closet for clothes that she knew Sam loved, hoping that she hadn't left her deep red shirt at Sam's apartment. That shirt always sent Sam wild, especially if she left the third button undone. She took out a matching set of black lacy underwear, and then smiled to herself. She wouldn't be able to put the bra on. Sam would understand, she decided.

Soon she was dressed in black pants and the shirt, her hair hanging loosely about her face just like Sam preferred. Delicate gold earrings hung from her ears. She wanted to wear the fine gold necklace that Sam had given her, but she knew she wouldn't be able to do up the catch on that either. That didn't matter, she told herself.

Taking a deep breath, Janet went back into the living room. The door to the garden was still open. Praying that Sam was still in the garden, Janet stepped outside. The light was going, and it took her a few seconds before she saw a figure huddled miserably in the corner, still shaking with sobs.

Janet went up to Sam, and sat down next to her, taking her hand. Sam looked up at her, fear and desperation in her eyes.

"Sorry is never enough. What can I do to make this right?" Janet asked in a quiet voice.

"Do you really want to make it right?" Sam asked, her voice hoarse.

"More than anything," Janet said with feeling.

"Then it's enough," Sam said simply.

"Sam, I'm so sorry. I can't believe the way I behaved," Janet looked at her tenderly. "Everything I put you through. I was so angry, Sam. But not at you. Never at you. I should never have taken it out on you."

Sam pulled Janet's hand to her lips, and kissed it softly. "You've had a hell of a ride, Jan," she said.

"You too, baby," Janet said. "And I made it worse for you. I'll never forgive myself for that."

"You have to," Sam said quietly. "It's done. It's over. I love you. Just the same as before. I love every inch of you, every hair on your head. I worship you, Janet Fraiser."

Janet stood up, and pulled Sam to her feet. "You're freezing," she said, touching Sam's cheek. "Come inside."

One they were back in the living room, Janet pulled Sam into a tight embrace, which Sam willingly accepted, melting gratefully into Janet's touch. Janet then kissed Sam softly on the mouth, becoming more fervent as she felt Sam respond. Janet undid a fourth button her shirt, enjoying Sam's expression as her eyes traveled south.

"Bedroom?" Janet suggested. Sam nodded.

Janet pushed Sam gently on to the bed, and slowly removed her clothes, kissing every inch of skin as it became exposed. Sam reached up and unbuttoned Janet's shirt, thrilling as she saw Janet's breasts hang free. "Still can't get a bra on without help," Janet smiled, "which I suppose can be an advantage!"

"God yes," Sam gasped.

Janet leant forward and kissed Sam, but then her crippled hand started to jerk. She looked distraught.

"It's okay, baby," Sam whispered, taking the fist and massaging the fingers in her own soft, strong hands. In just over a minute, the tremor was over. Sam kissed each finger separately and then, very deliberately, pulled the hand to her own breast, carefully placing the fingers so that they surrounded the by-now very stiff nipple. "Karen said we should try for fine motor function," she smiled. "I think that's as good as place as any to start."

Janet's eyes filled with tears. "You complete me," she whispered to Sam.

= = =

Hours later, Janet came, for the third time, in Sam's arms. She felt Sam stiffen and gasp as she climaxed just seconds later. Sam started to cry, and Janet found herself equally moved. They wept in each other's arms, as they hugged. "I'm so sorry, baby," Janet whispered.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," Sam said again and again. "You came back to me. You came back to me."

"And I'm never going away again," Janet promised. "I want to be with you for ever."

"I love you Dr Janet Fraiser," Sam said.

"And I love you Captain Samantha Carter," Janet's voice cracked with emotion. "So very much." And she snuggled into Sam's front. For the first time in weeks, the two women slept peacefully all night, limbs tangled, safe in the knowledge that the storm had passed.

END