'Adíshní Mags

Title: "Scarification"
Author: magnavox_23
Character/Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: PG
Summary: Adding new scars to old. Set during Heroes II

“Come ‘ere.”

Jack’s whispered words cause the tension to just drain out of Sam. She doesn’t feel ashamed to let him see her tears, or about the comfort she feels when he encircles her with his arms. A full body press of warmth and life.

He rocks her gently in the embrace and she holds tight, keeping this man, so loved, as close as possible. More tears escape as she feels him rest his face against the side of her neck, a faint brush of lips against her racing pulse.

Emotions, raw and open, battle inside her. Grief at Janet’s death wars with the relief that Jack is alive and here. She isn’t supposed to feel so good, wrapped around him as she is now, and she is sure she will feel guilt later. But right now she needs this, and she will let Jack give it to her.

She squeezes him tighter in response and she feels his hands lightly rub her back before heading up to her neck and hair. His fingertips on her skull are heaven. Their even pressure soothe the headache that had formed due to her upset. His other hand cups the back of her neck, thumb lightly caressing her skin before encountering a scar there.

Jack’s touch falters for a moment before he continues to trace the contour of the slightly raised mark with his thumb. “Steveston, last year.” She murmurs into the shoulder of his jacket. “Town full of goa’ulds. You were…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. They both don’t want to think about where Jack was.

“S’ok.” Jack’s breath is hot and sweet on her neck, making her shiver. “Hathor’s goa’uld…”

And Sam remembers, her own fingertips searching out a matching scar on the back of Jack’s neck.

“God, Sam.” Jack squeezes her harder in reaction and she can feel the air forced from her lungs.

The kiss is behind her ear this time, and then Jack is brushing his lips against her ear lobe before moving to her jaw. Sam can’t help but arch into him, head back in acquiescence.

He doesn’t take her mouth. As much as she know he wants to, and she wants him to. Jack rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed as he calms his breathing.

Sam knows her voice is clogged with grief. “I don’t know what I would have done if… but Janet…”

Jack slides his hands up into her hair once more, patting the soft strands in a soothing manner. “You keep going. Whatever...” Jack’s words catch in his throat. “Whatever happens.”

Sam nods minutely so as not to jostle Jack’s hold on her.

The pain of Janet’s death is a sharp contrast to the feel of the man in her arms.

In time, that sharpness will dull and become a melancholic ache. Then it will fade to a scar that she will wear lovingly on her heart.