(no subject)
Title: Outside the Lines
Author: Annerb
Rating: Mature (for violence and language in one section)
Summary: How far would you go to make your world right again?
Classifications: Action/Adventure, Drama, Angst, Team, S/J, 'Chain Reaction' AU
Author’s Note: The title of this fic and the idea were inspired by a song by Lisa Loeb (‘Would You Wander’) on the long commute home. I wanted a look at Sam, her reaction to a major character death and what she might be capable of if she was pushed to the ropes over the protection of her teammates. Here’s what I came up with.
Outside the Lines
Part 1: Graveside
Samantha Carter stood tall and still in her uniform among a sea of gravestones. Her hair was neatly tucked under her cap and her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. The bright sun shone down on her and the others assembled on either side of her.
Sam pulled surreptitiously at the collar of her shirt, silently reflecting that she had worn her dress blues at too many of these occasions lately. It had only been three weeks since she had stood in a similar spot half-listening to speeches about great men and great sacrifices, her eyes avoiding the gaping hole at her feet that matched the one in her heart.
Funerals were a major hazard of the job, but three weeks ago SG-1 had stood in stunned silence side by side at the grave of General Hammond.
A car accident. Amazing that something so mundane could claim a man of such importance, a man of such conviction and warmth. Sam had plenty of tears that day, even as she could feel the fizzle of raw anger radiating off of her commanding officer who stood by her side. Jack could never buy that Hammond had a heart attack behind the wheel and plowed his car into a pole.
But where was Jack now? That was the true question as she stared at the empty grave in front of her. Three days ago her world had shattered, Major York and Lieutenant Wash reporting back as the only survivors of the newly formed SG-1.
Standing in the control room with Teal’c at her side, Sam had heard the words she’d always dreaded.
“Colonel O’Neill fell in the field, sir.”
Hanging from the young man’s fingers were Jack’s dog tags, stained with blood.
She remembered feeling Teal’c’s hand pressing low against her back, offering support. But Sam hadn’t swayed on her feet. She hadn’t reached out to touch the tags, to see if they harbored any residual warmth of the man who had worn them. She had not cried.
She felt absolutely nothing.
For three days she walked the halls of the SGC like a phantom, grinding her teeth at every sympathetic glance and studiously ignoring every soft ‘How are you doing?’
She began to wonder what was wrong with her. Hadn’t she cared more that this? Shouldn’t she feel more? And then there was guilt, a constant bitterness in the back of her throat. Didn’t he deserve more than her indifference?
The numbness finally drove her to Daniel in a frenzy of need to just feel something.
Sam found herself on Daniel’s doorstep, pushing past him as soon as he answered the door. He closed the door, turning to her to ask her something or other, but Sam had already pushed him up against the wall, her hands up his shirt and her lips pressed to his.
Daniel sputtered in complete shock for a moment before his hands began to grab at hers. “Sam, what are you doing?” he managed to ask, tearing his lips from hers.
“I need to feel,” she rasped against his neck before nibbling at his ear.
Daniel remained rigid under the onslaught for another minute before sighing heavily and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. Sam felt overwhelming relief that he wasn’t going to question this.
“I’m not who you want, Sam,” he whispered in her ear.
Sam flinched, her fingers digging into his skin. Damn him, she thought, pressing her eyes closed, pushing away from him.
“I’m not him,” he continued, refusing to release her. “And I never can be.”
“Damn you, Daniel!” she swore. She began to push against him in earnest, her fists pounding against his chest, heaping obscenities upon him. With some amazing source of strength, Daniel managed to keep her trapped against his chest, riding out the tantrum.
“I miss him, too, Sam,” he confessed in a broken voice.
Sam instantly stopped struggling. Something in his voice, something in the confession maybe, created a huge crack in the dam she had made to hold everything back for the last three days. With a huge pulsing flash, she realized that she hadn’t been feeling too little; she had been feeling too much to even comprehend. There was just too much to actually feel and survive.
When the tears finally came, they fell in great torrents, her body shaking helplessly. Daniel held her tightly throughout, adding his tears to hers. After minutes, hours, Sam finally confessed reverently into Daniel’s soaked shirt, “I loved him.” They were words she had never spoken aloud, words she had never even let herself think before, and now they hovered above them like a specter.
Daniel’s arms tightened around her, his fingers playing gently up and down her spine.
“I loved him,” Sam said again, louder this time, as if testing out the words. “And he never even knew.”
“He knew, Sam,” Daniel whispered fervently, his fingers in her hair. “He knew.”
Sam just pressed her head closer into Daniel’s chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, praying that he was right.
She had woken the next morning, the day of Jack’s funeral, feeling the warmth of Daniel curled around her. Even now, as they stood next to the grave together some hours later, his hand was quietly entwined with hers, offering support.
Sam was no longer crying. All the red puffiness from last night was carefully concealed. Not that she didn’t still feel an overwhelming avalanche of emotions, but something else today was more important.
Her stoic demeanor had little to do with what most people suspected. They probably thought that she was keeping up appearances even here, in the last moment. But Sam couldn’t care less about propriety or secrets. Not today of all days.
Her head was clearer than it had been in days, as if her tears and confessions had reawakened her brain after three days of sleepwalking. She was too busy thinking to weep mindlessly at the hollow grave of her commanding officer. Too busy examining the things she had been too numb to notice before.
As she stood, listening to a priest consign an empty coffin to the bosom of God, she replayed the last time she had spoken to Jack over and over again in her head.
It had only been four nights ago that she had last seen him. He had come to her door at almost eleven, catching her in her pajamas.
“Sir!” she said in surprise. She hadn’t seen him in two weeks, ever since he was forced on vacation by their new commanding officer, General Bauer. Apparently Jack had accused him of having his head up his ass.
Sam would have paid to have seen that.
She suspected that Jack had used the time off to poke around into Hammond’s death, but judging from how weary he looked, he hadn’t found what he wanted.
“Do you want to come in?” Sam asked, opening the door wider.
Jack shook his head. “No, I just wanted to stop by, see how you’re doing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “I heard about the weapon’s test.”
Sam rolled her eyes and let out a puff of air in annoyance. She still couldn’t believe how stupid Bauer had been. “We’re all very lucky to still be here,” Sam said, leaning casually on the door frame.
Jack shuffled his feet. “Yeah. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Sam stared at him for a moment, surprised by the admission. “That’s okay, sir. I doubt you could have talked him out of it.”
Jack shrugged and looked out at the stars visible from her front porch. “A lot of changes lately,” he observed softly.
She knew he was referring to Hammond’s death, Bauer and the reassignment of all the members of SG-1. She still couldn’t quite believe that it was over. That she would rarely, if ever, step through the gate again. ‘Too important to risk in the field.’ And if she ever did, it wouldn’t be at his side.
She hated that it felt like her life was spinning completely out of her control.
Suddenly Jack pulled a long white envelope from his pocket. “I want you to hold onto this for me, Carter,” he said, staring at her intently. “Consider it my last order as your CO,” he added with a smirk.
Sam cautiously took the envelope, her fingers brushing his. “What is it?”
“Just keep it safe somewhere. You’ll know when it’s time to open it.”
She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but he turned abruptly and started down her front path. He stopped a few steps away and turned back to look at her. “I just wanted you to know, Carter…You’re the best I’ve ever served with. The absolute best.”
The words took her by surprise. She felt her heart beat faster. “Sir-,” Sam started, but she really had no idea what to say. His behavior was unnerving to say the least.
Jack shook his head and smiled the sort of smile that always made it hard for Sam to breathe. “I just wish…,” he said, trailing off. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shrugged and said, “Night, Carter.”
“Goodnight, sir,” she barely remembered to say as she watched him disappear down her front walk.
That was the last time she had seen him alive. The next day he had gone on a mission with the new SG-1. Only two members had come back, reporting that Jack and Captain Morris had fallen to enemy fire.
In her haze of disbelief, she had managed to completely forget about the mysterious envelope that she had stashed in her fire-safe for safe keeping.
Now she was simply biding her time. You’ll know when it’s time to open it. Those had been his words. Something in her mind was advising caution, telling her that it was somehow very important to finish all the proper motions today. Attend the funeral, mingle at the wake and, most importantly, don’t rock the boat. Don’t let them see that your brain is working a mile a minute. Don’t let them see that you suspect.
This was all very important because as she stood by an empty grave with Daniel’s hand clenched in hers, there was only one thing she was certain of.
Jack O’Neill had known this was going to happen.
Part 2: Dawn
Samantha Carter sat on the edge of her bed as the fourth day since Jack’s death dawned brilliantly over the sycamores. She stared out her window, not seeing the streaking colors, not hearing the delicate song of the morning birds.
Somewhere in the night all grief had fled, replaced by growing steely determination. Now she sat, perched on the edge of a decision. No matter which road she chose, she knew her life would never be the same.
That was fine by her.
Behind her, the bed was covered in various objects she had collected during the night. Papers, munitions, and a briefcase among them. A new life, if she wanted it.
But what did she really want?
Yesterday she had wandered appropriately through Jack’s wake, sticking close to Janet, Daniel and Teal’c. Playing the role of the ice queen that she had developed over the years. Daniel had fluttered near her at all times, but he needn’t have bothered. Sam was far from breakdown at that point. She was quietly counting the seconds, forcing herself to enjoy the calm, knowing what was coming.
At dusk she had left the party, aware of the sedan that followed her home. Let the games begin, she’d thought wryly.
Entering her home, she’d gone straight to her safe, extracting the simple envelope Jack had pressed into her hands. She trembled for a moment, not really wanting to know what it said. Did it hold the answers she needed? Were there words in here that she had secretly longed to hear for so long? Would they still mean anything?
Grabbing a letter opener, she slashed the envelope open. A single sheet of paper covered in black, scrawled writing and a key poured out onto her carpet. She grabbed the key first. It was a small silver key with an orange knob attached to it with a safety pin. The number 198 was etched into the plastic. Property of Denver City Bus Station.
She set it aside and turned her attention to the letter.
Carter-
I’m doing everything I can to stop this, but if you’re reading this, then more than likely I failed. I’m sorry. This isn’t the way I wanted it to go down. Especially since I've now left you and the guys in even more danger. I’ve set up everything you’ll need. God, I’m sorry, Carter. I did everything I could think of to keep you from this.
But I know you can do this, Carter. You’re the one thing I’ve always had faith in, even when everything else has gone to crap.
I’m sorry I can’t be there to watch your six.
-Jack
P.S. Never look back, Carter. Never look back.
The note now lay crumpled on her bed spread. She had read it a hundred times during the long night, knowing what he was asking.
By midnight, Sam had finally realized that the black sedan half a block down from her house was not leaving. She knew she should just wait, but the key was burning a hole in her hand and there was suddenly overwhelming urgency. So instead of sitting tight like a good little girl, she had dressed in black, shoving her gun in at the small of her back, and slipped on an empty knapsack. She climbed out the back fence, slinking through her neighbors’ yards, slowly making her way to the closest major street.
She’d grabbed a cab to the bus station in Denver. By the time she’d reached the station it was nearly three in the morning. A few stranded travelers slept restlessly on benches while pickpockets and the homeless wandered the echoing spaces. No one gave Sam a second glance.
She cautiously opened locker number 198. One cursory glance revealed three 9-mils and ammunition, which she quickly swept into her backpack. Zipping it back up and swinging it on her back, she grabbed the last item in the locker, a black briefcase. She ran one hand over the interior of the locker, searching for anything else, but came away empty. She slammed the locker shut and walked away without a backwards glance.
Two hours later she slipped back into her house, a quick glance out the front revealing that her stalkers were still in place.
Retreating back to her room, she allowed herself to inspect the stockpile Jack had created. The guns and case were covered in a thick layer of dust, telling Sam that this wasn’t a recent collection. He had been prepared for something to happen.
Sam was surprised to find that the case held a small fortune in cash. Ones, fives, twenties and hundreds in neat stacks. She ran her hand over the piles, not bothering to wonder were it had all come from.
A pocket in the lid revealed various documents: passports, licenses, social security cards. Sam opened the first passport to find her own face staring back at her. Stacy Miller. The next showed Daniel’s picture. Lance Sterling. She had to suppress a smile, knowing Jack had carefully picked that name just to annoy Daniel. The moment quickly turned into a burning emptiness in her stomach, so she turned it aside and grabbed the next, which she knew would reveal Teal’c. Mark Evans. Sam forced herself to open the fourth passport. Jack’s face smiled gently out at her, the smile that seemed to say: ‘I know something you don’t!’ She ran her fingers over his face, glancing at the name he’d chosen for himself. John Patrick. Good Irish name, she mused.
The briefcase represented what Jack wanted for them. A whole new life.
It meant one thing to Sam. Jack was certain that Hammond had been forcibly removed. He had been murdered. Sam could barely think the word without bile rising in the back of her throat. With Hammond gone, the way had been made for Bauer and his policies to take sway at the SCG. There had only been one more hurdle in the way. One more wildcard that could prevent the total take over of the SGC by people with a more nefarious agenda.
Jack O’Neill.
As dawn gradually peeked its head into Sam’s bedroom, she was faced with the horrible truth. The new SG-1 had been hand picked and not by Jack. They had never intended for Jack to return from that first mission. And he’d known it.
Murdered.
Sam pushed off the edge of the bed and ran for her bathroom, heaving violently into the toilet. She lay there for what seemed like hours, her head pressed to the cool porcelain.
Hammond and Jack. Murdered.
It was clear that Jack wanted her to take Teal’c and Daniel and get them as far away from the SGC as she could. He wanted them to live, to keep each other safe. It was his last request of her. He didn’t want her to end up crashing her car into a tree one night or falling on alien soil with only traitorous strangers for company. He wanted better for them.
Never look back, Carter. Never look back.
He wanted her to run and forget.
Sam pushed up from the hard floor and rinsed her face and mouth. Glancing up at the mirror she stared hard at herself.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said to her reflection. “That’s the one thing I can’t do.”
Returning to her room, she carefully packed everything inside of the case and shoved it under her bed. She put on her uniform that was now a badge of betrayal.
She would make this right. Or die trying.
Part 3: The Edge
Predictably, Sam refused Bauer’s offer of time off. It was what was expected of her. She worked obsessively on any project sent her way, crashing in temporary quarters more often than not. For one whole week she endured the knowing glances and worried hovering of Daniel and Teal’c.
None of them even had a clue what was really going on in her head.
She was watching, constantly watching. Assessing, judging, working it all out.
Bauer was just a patsy. She was convinced of it. It didn’t change her burning hatred of him, even as he now held her in a sort of awed esteem. He listened now when she spoke.
Unfortunately that was dangerous for Sam, so she avoided the man as much as possible. Always letting others speak over her. Bauer clearly had one purpose here, to quietly fulfill whatever agenda he was handed from the nebulous ‘them’ that was responsible for the coup. She didn’t need him bringing their attention to her anymore than it was already was. She knew she was already walking on borrowed time.
Colonel Mathers, newly transferred and recently assigned 2IC of the base, was the one Sam watched. Jack’s replacement. He was now leader of SG-1 with the traitorous York and Wash. Sam quietly seethed at the sight of SG-1 patches on their uniforms. She resisted the urge to rip them off their unworthy shoulders.
She carefully kept a mental list of the new personnel, each one of them suspect of the stain of the new administration. She judged the others around her, wondering which of the men and women she had trusted her life with over the last four years had turned their backs on Hammond and Jack.
Sam hated waiting, feeling each moment bleed away, each one a final chance to follow Jack’s last order and escape the closing net to safety. She didn’t want it, but she needed to think of Daniel and Teal’c. She was aware that she was playing with all of their lives, but her decision was made.
Six days of acting like model, work-obsessed Major Carter and the black sedan left its post on her street. Sam wasn’t naïve enough to think that her office and home weren’t still being carefully monitored, but it was a sign that she had passed the first hurdle.
It was time to move forward.
She wandered by Daniel’s lab, relieved to find Teal’c there as well. They abruptly stopped talking the moment she entered, confirming the fact that they had been having a meet-up to discuss her. She just hoped they kept themselves limited to her grief, knowing his office would be bugged as well.
“Hey, guys,” she said carefully with a small smile.
“Hey, Sam,” Daniel said warmly. “We were just-”
“Talking about me?” Sam smoothly interrupted.
Daniel had the good grace to look embarrassed, but Teal’c just looked up at her and said, “We are simply concerned for you, Major Carter. We do not wish to see you ‘work yourself into the floor.’”
Sam resisted the urge to correct him and just smiled instead. She was lucky to have such friends. Which was why she was going to see them safe. “I know, guys. I appreciate that you’ve given me some space.”
Daniel crossed the room and rubbed Sam’s arm. “Just remember that we’re always here if you want to talk or anything.”
Sam grabbed Daniel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks. Actually I was thinking that we should grab dinner off base together tonight, like old times.”
Daniel and Teal’c looked genuinely pleased that she wanted to socialize. “That would be most enjoyable, Major Carter.”
“I’ll pick you guys up at 1900,” she said as she exited the lab.
She waited until they were halfway done with their appetizers to broach the real point of this meeting in an out of the way, noisy diner.
“I need you two to do something for me.”
Daniel’s head snapped up from his plate at her serious tone. Teal’c cocked his head to one side and considered her.
Sam took a deep breath and plunged in. “Teal’c, I need you to return to your family.”
They both just stared at her in silence and she could tell that neither of them really understood. “I need you to leave Earth,” she clarified. “Forget about the Tau’ri.” Teal’c would better off out there somewhere rather than running around on Earth, never knowing when his symbiote might mature.
Teal’c’s eyebrows rose in a way that Sam read as astonishment, but he didn’t say anything.
Daniel looked between them in confusion. “Sam, what are you talking about?”
Turning to Daniel, she continued, “You need to resign from the SGC. Take these papers and disappear somewhere. China, Egypt, Russia…I don’t care where. It would be too hard to get you back to Abydos, too obvious.” She handed him a small knapsack that held his new passport, social security card and nearly 100,000 dollars in cash.
Daniel briefly glanced into the bag before snapping it back shut, his eyes wide. “What the hell is going on, Sam?”
“This isn’t the time for questions, Daniel! Just do as I say,” Sam barked lowly, not really allowing herself enough time to reflect on how much she sounded like Jack.
“What about you?” Daniel asked, still shocked by her behavior.
“I’m staying here; I have a few things to take care of.”
Daniel began to sputter at Sam’s seeming insanity, when Teal’c laid a steadying hand on Daniel’s arm.
“You believe we are in danger,” he noted calmly.
“If you do as I ask, you will both be fine. I only ask that you make your departures as unsuspicious as possible.”
Teal’c observed her for a long moment, waiting as the waitress brought them their dinners, taking away their unfinished appetizers.
“You believe O’Neill’s death was not accidental,” Teal’c finally said, his voice low.
“What?” Daniel demanded loudly.
“Daniel, keep your voice down,” Sam snapped.
“Are you trying to say that he was murdered?” Daniel hissed.
Sam closed her eyes, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. They were never going to let this go. Finally she opened her eyes and nodded.
“Sam…,” Daniel said in a softer voice, clearly thinking that she was just desperately clawing at straws. Anything that could explain Jack’s death.
“Dammit, Daniel. I’m not some grief-stricken crazy woman! He knew! He came to see me the night before he died; he left me a note and everything we needed. Told me to hold on to them for him.”
Daniel was silent for a long time, digesting what she had said. “We’re next, aren’t we?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Sam finally said quietly. “So, please, do as I ask. I need to know that you two are safe.”
Daniel’s hands gripped compulsively at the bag in front of him for long minutes before he shoved the bag back towards Sam. “No.”
“No?” Sam echoed incredulously. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“You have something planned, Sam. We want in.” He didn’t even bother to pause and look to Teal’c for conformation.
“It’s none of your business, Daniel.”
“Of course it is. We’re a team.”
“No, Daniel, we’re not. Last time I checked, SG-1 was disbanded and Jack was dead,” she said harshly.
In the ensuing silence, she quietly reflected on the fact that she no longer had any problems calling him Jack. Strange what effect death can have on people.
“I do not think you believe these words to be true,” Teal’c observed quietly after a long pause.
Sam ignored the perceptive comment and pushed the bag towards Daniel again. “This is what he wanted, Daniel. Can’t you just respect that?”
“Like you are?”
Sam felt color flood her cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t quite tell.
“I don’t want you to see,” she finally confessed softly, her fingers twisting in her napkin.
“See what?”
She met Daniel’s eyes, wanting him to see the steel inside them. “What I’m willing to do to see this through.”
Daniel’s eyes widened with shock at her vehemence and he fell into silence.
“Samantha Carter,” Teal’c intoned, “we will stand by you. General Hammond and O’Neill must be avenged. Their deaths must not be allowed to be meaningless.”
“Yeah, Sam,” Daniel said, finally recovering. “We do this together.”
Sam felt their hands covering her own. For Jack’s sake, she had tried to make them safe, but deep down she had known they wouldn’t be any more capable of letting this go than she was. And maybe, just maybe, they would be able to pull this off.
“Together,” she whispered.
Next
Author: Annerb
Rating: Mature (for violence and language in one section)
Summary: How far would you go to make your world right again?
Classifications: Action/Adventure, Drama, Angst, Team, S/J, 'Chain Reaction' AU
Author’s Note: The title of this fic and the idea were inspired by a song by Lisa Loeb (‘Would You Wander’) on the long commute home. I wanted a look at Sam, her reaction to a major character death and what she might be capable of if she was pushed to the ropes over the protection of her teammates. Here’s what I came up with.
Outside the Lines
Part 1: Graveside
Samantha Carter stood tall and still in her uniform among a sea of gravestones. Her hair was neatly tucked under her cap and her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. The bright sun shone down on her and the others assembled on either side of her.
Sam pulled surreptitiously at the collar of her shirt, silently reflecting that she had worn her dress blues at too many of these occasions lately. It had only been three weeks since she had stood in a similar spot half-listening to speeches about great men and great sacrifices, her eyes avoiding the gaping hole at her feet that matched the one in her heart.
Funerals were a major hazard of the job, but three weeks ago SG-1 had stood in stunned silence side by side at the grave of General Hammond.
A car accident. Amazing that something so mundane could claim a man of such importance, a man of such conviction and warmth. Sam had plenty of tears that day, even as she could feel the fizzle of raw anger radiating off of her commanding officer who stood by her side. Jack could never buy that Hammond had a heart attack behind the wheel and plowed his car into a pole.
But where was Jack now? That was the true question as she stared at the empty grave in front of her. Three days ago her world had shattered, Major York and Lieutenant Wash reporting back as the only survivors of the newly formed SG-1.
Standing in the control room with Teal’c at her side, Sam had heard the words she’d always dreaded.
“Colonel O’Neill fell in the field, sir.”
Hanging from the young man’s fingers were Jack’s dog tags, stained with blood.
She remembered feeling Teal’c’s hand pressing low against her back, offering support. But Sam hadn’t swayed on her feet. She hadn’t reached out to touch the tags, to see if they harbored any residual warmth of the man who had worn them. She had not cried.
She felt absolutely nothing.
For three days she walked the halls of the SGC like a phantom, grinding her teeth at every sympathetic glance and studiously ignoring every soft ‘How are you doing?’
She began to wonder what was wrong with her. Hadn’t she cared more that this? Shouldn’t she feel more? And then there was guilt, a constant bitterness in the back of her throat. Didn’t he deserve more than her indifference?
The numbness finally drove her to Daniel in a frenzy of need to just feel something.
Sam found herself on Daniel’s doorstep, pushing past him as soon as he answered the door. He closed the door, turning to her to ask her something or other, but Sam had already pushed him up against the wall, her hands up his shirt and her lips pressed to his.
Daniel sputtered in complete shock for a moment before his hands began to grab at hers. “Sam, what are you doing?” he managed to ask, tearing his lips from hers.
“I need to feel,” she rasped against his neck before nibbling at his ear.
Daniel remained rigid under the onslaught for another minute before sighing heavily and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. Sam felt overwhelming relief that he wasn’t going to question this.
“I’m not who you want, Sam,” he whispered in her ear.
Sam flinched, her fingers digging into his skin. Damn him, she thought, pressing her eyes closed, pushing away from him.
“I’m not him,” he continued, refusing to release her. “And I never can be.”
“Damn you, Daniel!” she swore. She began to push against him in earnest, her fists pounding against his chest, heaping obscenities upon him. With some amazing source of strength, Daniel managed to keep her trapped against his chest, riding out the tantrum.
“I miss him, too, Sam,” he confessed in a broken voice.
Sam instantly stopped struggling. Something in his voice, something in the confession maybe, created a huge crack in the dam she had made to hold everything back for the last three days. With a huge pulsing flash, she realized that she hadn’t been feeling too little; she had been feeling too much to even comprehend. There was just too much to actually feel and survive.
When the tears finally came, they fell in great torrents, her body shaking helplessly. Daniel held her tightly throughout, adding his tears to hers. After minutes, hours, Sam finally confessed reverently into Daniel’s soaked shirt, “I loved him.” They were words she had never spoken aloud, words she had never even let herself think before, and now they hovered above them like a specter.
Daniel’s arms tightened around her, his fingers playing gently up and down her spine.
“I loved him,” Sam said again, louder this time, as if testing out the words. “And he never even knew.”
“He knew, Sam,” Daniel whispered fervently, his fingers in her hair. “He knew.”
Sam just pressed her head closer into Daniel’s chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, praying that he was right.
She had woken the next morning, the day of Jack’s funeral, feeling the warmth of Daniel curled around her. Even now, as they stood next to the grave together some hours later, his hand was quietly entwined with hers, offering support.
Sam was no longer crying. All the red puffiness from last night was carefully concealed. Not that she didn’t still feel an overwhelming avalanche of emotions, but something else today was more important.
Her stoic demeanor had little to do with what most people suspected. They probably thought that she was keeping up appearances even here, in the last moment. But Sam couldn’t care less about propriety or secrets. Not today of all days.
Her head was clearer than it had been in days, as if her tears and confessions had reawakened her brain after three days of sleepwalking. She was too busy thinking to weep mindlessly at the hollow grave of her commanding officer. Too busy examining the things she had been too numb to notice before.
As she stood, listening to a priest consign an empty coffin to the bosom of God, she replayed the last time she had spoken to Jack over and over again in her head.
It had only been four nights ago that she had last seen him. He had come to her door at almost eleven, catching her in her pajamas.
“Sir!” she said in surprise. She hadn’t seen him in two weeks, ever since he was forced on vacation by their new commanding officer, General Bauer. Apparently Jack had accused him of having his head up his ass.
Sam would have paid to have seen that.
She suspected that Jack had used the time off to poke around into Hammond’s death, but judging from how weary he looked, he hadn’t found what he wanted.
“Do you want to come in?” Sam asked, opening the door wider.
Jack shook his head. “No, I just wanted to stop by, see how you’re doing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “I heard about the weapon’s test.”
Sam rolled her eyes and let out a puff of air in annoyance. She still couldn’t believe how stupid Bauer had been. “We’re all very lucky to still be here,” Sam said, leaning casually on the door frame.
Jack shuffled his feet. “Yeah. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Sam stared at him for a moment, surprised by the admission. “That’s okay, sir. I doubt you could have talked him out of it.”
Jack shrugged and looked out at the stars visible from her front porch. “A lot of changes lately,” he observed softly.
She knew he was referring to Hammond’s death, Bauer and the reassignment of all the members of SG-1. She still couldn’t quite believe that it was over. That she would rarely, if ever, step through the gate again. ‘Too important to risk in the field.’ And if she ever did, it wouldn’t be at his side.
She hated that it felt like her life was spinning completely out of her control.
Suddenly Jack pulled a long white envelope from his pocket. “I want you to hold onto this for me, Carter,” he said, staring at her intently. “Consider it my last order as your CO,” he added with a smirk.
Sam cautiously took the envelope, her fingers brushing his. “What is it?”
“Just keep it safe somewhere. You’ll know when it’s time to open it.”
She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but he turned abruptly and started down her front path. He stopped a few steps away and turned back to look at her. “I just wanted you to know, Carter…You’re the best I’ve ever served with. The absolute best.”
The words took her by surprise. She felt her heart beat faster. “Sir-,” Sam started, but she really had no idea what to say. His behavior was unnerving to say the least.
Jack shook his head and smiled the sort of smile that always made it hard for Sam to breathe. “I just wish…,” he said, trailing off. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shrugged and said, “Night, Carter.”
“Goodnight, sir,” she barely remembered to say as she watched him disappear down her front walk.
That was the last time she had seen him alive. The next day he had gone on a mission with the new SG-1. Only two members had come back, reporting that Jack and Captain Morris had fallen to enemy fire.
In her haze of disbelief, she had managed to completely forget about the mysterious envelope that she had stashed in her fire-safe for safe keeping.
Now she was simply biding her time. You’ll know when it’s time to open it. Those had been his words. Something in her mind was advising caution, telling her that it was somehow very important to finish all the proper motions today. Attend the funeral, mingle at the wake and, most importantly, don’t rock the boat. Don’t let them see that your brain is working a mile a minute. Don’t let them see that you suspect.
This was all very important because as she stood by an empty grave with Daniel’s hand clenched in hers, there was only one thing she was certain of.
Jack O’Neill had known this was going to happen.
Part 2: Dawn
Samantha Carter sat on the edge of her bed as the fourth day since Jack’s death dawned brilliantly over the sycamores. She stared out her window, not seeing the streaking colors, not hearing the delicate song of the morning birds.
Somewhere in the night all grief had fled, replaced by growing steely determination. Now she sat, perched on the edge of a decision. No matter which road she chose, she knew her life would never be the same.
That was fine by her.
Behind her, the bed was covered in various objects she had collected during the night. Papers, munitions, and a briefcase among them. A new life, if she wanted it.
But what did she really want?
Yesterday she had wandered appropriately through Jack’s wake, sticking close to Janet, Daniel and Teal’c. Playing the role of the ice queen that she had developed over the years. Daniel had fluttered near her at all times, but he needn’t have bothered. Sam was far from breakdown at that point. She was quietly counting the seconds, forcing herself to enjoy the calm, knowing what was coming.
At dusk she had left the party, aware of the sedan that followed her home. Let the games begin, she’d thought wryly.
Entering her home, she’d gone straight to her safe, extracting the simple envelope Jack had pressed into her hands. She trembled for a moment, not really wanting to know what it said. Did it hold the answers she needed? Were there words in here that she had secretly longed to hear for so long? Would they still mean anything?
Grabbing a letter opener, she slashed the envelope open. A single sheet of paper covered in black, scrawled writing and a key poured out onto her carpet. She grabbed the key first. It was a small silver key with an orange knob attached to it with a safety pin. The number 198 was etched into the plastic. Property of Denver City Bus Station.
She set it aside and turned her attention to the letter.
Carter-
I’m doing everything I can to stop this, but if you’re reading this, then more than likely I failed. I’m sorry. This isn’t the way I wanted it to go down. Especially since I've now left you and the guys in even more danger. I’ve set up everything you’ll need. God, I’m sorry, Carter. I did everything I could think of to keep you from this.
But I know you can do this, Carter. You’re the one thing I’ve always had faith in, even when everything else has gone to crap.
I’m sorry I can’t be there to watch your six.
-Jack
P.S. Never look back, Carter. Never look back.
The note now lay crumpled on her bed spread. She had read it a hundred times during the long night, knowing what he was asking.
By midnight, Sam had finally realized that the black sedan half a block down from her house was not leaving. She knew she should just wait, but the key was burning a hole in her hand and there was suddenly overwhelming urgency. So instead of sitting tight like a good little girl, she had dressed in black, shoving her gun in at the small of her back, and slipped on an empty knapsack. She climbed out the back fence, slinking through her neighbors’ yards, slowly making her way to the closest major street.
She’d grabbed a cab to the bus station in Denver. By the time she’d reached the station it was nearly three in the morning. A few stranded travelers slept restlessly on benches while pickpockets and the homeless wandered the echoing spaces. No one gave Sam a second glance.
She cautiously opened locker number 198. One cursory glance revealed three 9-mils and ammunition, which she quickly swept into her backpack. Zipping it back up and swinging it on her back, she grabbed the last item in the locker, a black briefcase. She ran one hand over the interior of the locker, searching for anything else, but came away empty. She slammed the locker shut and walked away without a backwards glance.
Two hours later she slipped back into her house, a quick glance out the front revealing that her stalkers were still in place.
Retreating back to her room, she allowed herself to inspect the stockpile Jack had created. The guns and case were covered in a thick layer of dust, telling Sam that this wasn’t a recent collection. He had been prepared for something to happen.
Sam was surprised to find that the case held a small fortune in cash. Ones, fives, twenties and hundreds in neat stacks. She ran her hand over the piles, not bothering to wonder were it had all come from.
A pocket in the lid revealed various documents: passports, licenses, social security cards. Sam opened the first passport to find her own face staring back at her. Stacy Miller. The next showed Daniel’s picture. Lance Sterling. She had to suppress a smile, knowing Jack had carefully picked that name just to annoy Daniel. The moment quickly turned into a burning emptiness in her stomach, so she turned it aside and grabbed the next, which she knew would reveal Teal’c. Mark Evans. Sam forced herself to open the fourth passport. Jack’s face smiled gently out at her, the smile that seemed to say: ‘I know something you don’t!’ She ran her fingers over his face, glancing at the name he’d chosen for himself. John Patrick. Good Irish name, she mused.
The briefcase represented what Jack wanted for them. A whole new life.
It meant one thing to Sam. Jack was certain that Hammond had been forcibly removed. He had been murdered. Sam could barely think the word without bile rising in the back of her throat. With Hammond gone, the way had been made for Bauer and his policies to take sway at the SCG. There had only been one more hurdle in the way. One more wildcard that could prevent the total take over of the SGC by people with a more nefarious agenda.
Jack O’Neill.
As dawn gradually peeked its head into Sam’s bedroom, she was faced with the horrible truth. The new SG-1 had been hand picked and not by Jack. They had never intended for Jack to return from that first mission. And he’d known it.
Murdered.
Sam pushed off the edge of the bed and ran for her bathroom, heaving violently into the toilet. She lay there for what seemed like hours, her head pressed to the cool porcelain.
Hammond and Jack. Murdered.
It was clear that Jack wanted her to take Teal’c and Daniel and get them as far away from the SGC as she could. He wanted them to live, to keep each other safe. It was his last request of her. He didn’t want her to end up crashing her car into a tree one night or falling on alien soil with only traitorous strangers for company. He wanted better for them.
Never look back, Carter. Never look back.
He wanted her to run and forget.
Sam pushed up from the hard floor and rinsed her face and mouth. Glancing up at the mirror she stared hard at herself.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said to her reflection. “That’s the one thing I can’t do.”
Returning to her room, she carefully packed everything inside of the case and shoved it under her bed. She put on her uniform that was now a badge of betrayal.
She would make this right. Or die trying.
Part 3: The Edge
Predictably, Sam refused Bauer’s offer of time off. It was what was expected of her. She worked obsessively on any project sent her way, crashing in temporary quarters more often than not. For one whole week she endured the knowing glances and worried hovering of Daniel and Teal’c.
None of them even had a clue what was really going on in her head.
She was watching, constantly watching. Assessing, judging, working it all out.
Bauer was just a patsy. She was convinced of it. It didn’t change her burning hatred of him, even as he now held her in a sort of awed esteem. He listened now when she spoke.
Unfortunately that was dangerous for Sam, so she avoided the man as much as possible. Always letting others speak over her. Bauer clearly had one purpose here, to quietly fulfill whatever agenda he was handed from the nebulous ‘them’ that was responsible for the coup. She didn’t need him bringing their attention to her anymore than it was already was. She knew she was already walking on borrowed time.
Colonel Mathers, newly transferred and recently assigned 2IC of the base, was the one Sam watched. Jack’s replacement. He was now leader of SG-1 with the traitorous York and Wash. Sam quietly seethed at the sight of SG-1 patches on their uniforms. She resisted the urge to rip them off their unworthy shoulders.
She carefully kept a mental list of the new personnel, each one of them suspect of the stain of the new administration. She judged the others around her, wondering which of the men and women she had trusted her life with over the last four years had turned their backs on Hammond and Jack.
Sam hated waiting, feeling each moment bleed away, each one a final chance to follow Jack’s last order and escape the closing net to safety. She didn’t want it, but she needed to think of Daniel and Teal’c. She was aware that she was playing with all of their lives, but her decision was made.
Six days of acting like model, work-obsessed Major Carter and the black sedan left its post on her street. Sam wasn’t naïve enough to think that her office and home weren’t still being carefully monitored, but it was a sign that she had passed the first hurdle.
It was time to move forward.
She wandered by Daniel’s lab, relieved to find Teal’c there as well. They abruptly stopped talking the moment she entered, confirming the fact that they had been having a meet-up to discuss her. She just hoped they kept themselves limited to her grief, knowing his office would be bugged as well.
“Hey, guys,” she said carefully with a small smile.
“Hey, Sam,” Daniel said warmly. “We were just-”
“Talking about me?” Sam smoothly interrupted.
Daniel had the good grace to look embarrassed, but Teal’c just looked up at her and said, “We are simply concerned for you, Major Carter. We do not wish to see you ‘work yourself into the floor.’”
Sam resisted the urge to correct him and just smiled instead. She was lucky to have such friends. Which was why she was going to see them safe. “I know, guys. I appreciate that you’ve given me some space.”
Daniel crossed the room and rubbed Sam’s arm. “Just remember that we’re always here if you want to talk or anything.”
Sam grabbed Daniel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks. Actually I was thinking that we should grab dinner off base together tonight, like old times.”
Daniel and Teal’c looked genuinely pleased that she wanted to socialize. “That would be most enjoyable, Major Carter.”
“I’ll pick you guys up at 1900,” she said as she exited the lab.
She waited until they were halfway done with their appetizers to broach the real point of this meeting in an out of the way, noisy diner.
“I need you two to do something for me.”
Daniel’s head snapped up from his plate at her serious tone. Teal’c cocked his head to one side and considered her.
Sam took a deep breath and plunged in. “Teal’c, I need you to return to your family.”
They both just stared at her in silence and she could tell that neither of them really understood. “I need you to leave Earth,” she clarified. “Forget about the Tau’ri.” Teal’c would better off out there somewhere rather than running around on Earth, never knowing when his symbiote might mature.
Teal’c’s eyebrows rose in a way that Sam read as astonishment, but he didn’t say anything.
Daniel looked between them in confusion. “Sam, what are you talking about?”
Turning to Daniel, she continued, “You need to resign from the SGC. Take these papers and disappear somewhere. China, Egypt, Russia…I don’t care where. It would be too hard to get you back to Abydos, too obvious.” She handed him a small knapsack that held his new passport, social security card and nearly 100,000 dollars in cash.
Daniel briefly glanced into the bag before snapping it back shut, his eyes wide. “What the hell is going on, Sam?”
“This isn’t the time for questions, Daniel! Just do as I say,” Sam barked lowly, not really allowing herself enough time to reflect on how much she sounded like Jack.
“What about you?” Daniel asked, still shocked by her behavior.
“I’m staying here; I have a few things to take care of.”
Daniel began to sputter at Sam’s seeming insanity, when Teal’c laid a steadying hand on Daniel’s arm.
“You believe we are in danger,” he noted calmly.
“If you do as I ask, you will both be fine. I only ask that you make your departures as unsuspicious as possible.”
Teal’c observed her for a long moment, waiting as the waitress brought them their dinners, taking away their unfinished appetizers.
“You believe O’Neill’s death was not accidental,” Teal’c finally said, his voice low.
“What?” Daniel demanded loudly.
“Daniel, keep your voice down,” Sam snapped.
“Are you trying to say that he was murdered?” Daniel hissed.
Sam closed her eyes, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. They were never going to let this go. Finally she opened her eyes and nodded.
“Sam…,” Daniel said in a softer voice, clearly thinking that she was just desperately clawing at straws. Anything that could explain Jack’s death.
“Dammit, Daniel. I’m not some grief-stricken crazy woman! He knew! He came to see me the night before he died; he left me a note and everything we needed. Told me to hold on to them for him.”
Daniel was silent for a long time, digesting what she had said. “We’re next, aren’t we?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” Sam finally said quietly. “So, please, do as I ask. I need to know that you two are safe.”
Daniel’s hands gripped compulsively at the bag in front of him for long minutes before he shoved the bag back towards Sam. “No.”
“No?” Sam echoed incredulously. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“You have something planned, Sam. We want in.” He didn’t even bother to pause and look to Teal’c for conformation.
“It’s none of your business, Daniel.”
“Of course it is. We’re a team.”
“No, Daniel, we’re not. Last time I checked, SG-1 was disbanded and Jack was dead,” she said harshly.
In the ensuing silence, she quietly reflected on the fact that she no longer had any problems calling him Jack. Strange what effect death can have on people.
“I do not think you believe these words to be true,” Teal’c observed quietly after a long pause.
Sam ignored the perceptive comment and pushed the bag towards Daniel again. “This is what he wanted, Daniel. Can’t you just respect that?”
“Like you are?”
Sam felt color flood her cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t quite tell.
“I don’t want you to see,” she finally confessed softly, her fingers twisting in her napkin.
“See what?”
She met Daniel’s eyes, wanting him to see the steel inside them. “What I’m willing to do to see this through.”
Daniel’s eyes widened with shock at her vehemence and he fell into silence.
“Samantha Carter,” Teal’c intoned, “we will stand by you. General Hammond and O’Neill must be avenged. Their deaths must not be allowed to be meaningless.”
“Yeah, Sam,” Daniel said, finally recovering. “We do this together.”
Sam felt their hands covering her own. For Jack’s sake, she had tried to make them safe, but deep down she had known they wouldn’t be any more capable of letting this go than she was. And maybe, just maybe, they would be able to pull this off.
“Together,” she whispered.
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