(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.
Part 4: Beyond
Sam stood in total shock, her back pressed against the cold anonymous concrete of the wall behind her. Everything was careening back and forth and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to breathe again.
Blood trickled down her wrists. She could feel it drying on her face. She licked it off her lips, horribly aware that it wasn’t her own.
From the beginning, Sam had known there would only be two ways to do this. Jack had tried the first, walking a careful path, cutting a few corners here and there. Essentially within the boundaries of the law and human decency. It hadn’t worked and he had died trying.
The second path yawned open before her. Sam knew she would walk outside of the lines. She would do whatever it took. She would push forward until the lines were nothing more than a distant memory.
Whatever it took.
At the noisy diner two nights before, Sam had listened to Teal’c and Daniel discuss various plans to draw out the members of the conspiracy. Brainstorming for ways to investigate without arousing the attention of the very people they wanted to bring down. After initially filling them in on everything she had discovered and suspected, Sam had said nothing.
She said nothing because she already knew what needed to be done. But she held her tongue, knowing that Daniel would never be able to understand. Teal’c had already worked it out, though. She could tell just by looking at him.
They needed details. They needed names. They needed someone on the inside to talk.
And Sam knew just how to do that.
Tucked into a tiny pocket on the interior of the briefcase left for her by Jack had been a single post-it note. ‘Just in case’ was written across the top above a name and an address.
Bill, 3526 East Trundel.
After dropping Teal’c and Daniel off, Sam had ventured back to Denver, pulling into the warehouse district under the cover of darkness.
A slightly overweight balding man opened the side door after Sam pounded on it, noting the small security camera perched on the lintel.
“Bill?” Sam asked quietly.
“That depends,” he responded with a smile, placing one hand on the jamb so that his jacket hung open, revealing a holstered gun.
“I’m Carter. Jack sent me,” she tried.
The man’s face broke into a wider smile and stepped away from the door. “Well in that case, you’re in the right place.”
Sam followed him inside, her eyes swiftly cataloging the six guards in various positions throughout the warehouse. The pressing familiarity of her sidearm at the back of her waist offered little comfort in the face of such odds. She’d just have to trust Jack.
“So what’s Jack up to these days? It’s been a while.”
“He’s dead,” Sam managed to say with a steady, uninvolved voice.
“Dead? Damn, I thought that guy had more lives than a frickin’ cat. But I guess everyone’s luck runs out eventually.”
He led her to a desk in a small office at the rear of the warehouse, gesturing for her to take a seat.
Sam quietly adjusted the seat so her back was no longer to the door and settled down, her eyes wandering over the office.
Bill smirked at the unconscious gesture. “You worked with Jack, right? He told me that if you ever came in that I should get you whatever you wanted.”
Sam nodded. “I need some equipment. Tasers, sodium pentothal, TD, and such.”
Bill’s eyebrows rose, but he just jotted down some notes and said, “I got it. I’ll get you the works.”
“I also need a location. A small room, thick walls, one entrance and no windows. In an out of the way spot. I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Bill nodded. “I think I’ve got something appropriate. Will you need clean up?”
Sam shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”
Bill didn’t bother to pry. They discussed various other items for a short while, Bill promising to have it all in place by dusk the next day.
Bill wouldn’t take any payment and Sam couldn’t quite bring herself to ask what Jack had done for him to make him so accommodating. So she just softly thanked him.
At the door, he reached out a hand to stop her. “He was a good man,” he observed. “I hope you get what you need.”
Sam raised her eyes to his face and let him see the determination there. “I won’t stop until I do,” she pledged quietly.
Bill nodded and released her arm, letting her walk back out into the night.
The next evening after work, Sam had met Daniel and Teal’c at a bar far from the base. Teal’c met Sam’s gaze steadily. “Have you made proper arrangements?”
Sam nodded, not surprised to find Teal’c on the same page before she had even spoken. He knew the stakes and he knew the techniques. One couldn’t be a First Prime and not know.
She could feel Daniel looking between them in confusion, but he was wisely keeping quiet.
“Who will it be?” Teal’c asked softly.
Sam took a deep breath, her choice already made. It had to be someone who knew what had happened on that planet, but preferably someone on the fringe. A lackey that could be easily broken.
“Wash,” she finally answered.
Teal’c nodded his agreement at the choice.
“He has leave for three days starting the day after tomorrow,” she continued. That more than anything had sealed his fate. No one would notice his absence.
Daniel was no longer looking confused. Now he stared down at his drink, his brow drawn tight. He was struggling, Sam could tell.
“There has to be another way,” he finally said.
“There is not,” Teal’c said.
Daniel dropped his head into his hands. “This is wrong.”
This was exactly why she had tried to get him to leave. “I don’t want you anywhere near this, Daniel. I mean it.” There was no room in her tone for discussion.
Daniel was still for a long time before he nodded once, not looking up at her.
“I need a zat,” Sam continued, satisfied that Daniel was going to follow her order.
“That may be difficult,” Teal’c noted.
Sam nodded, knowing it would be nearly impossible to slip one out of the SGC.
“I have one,” Daniel finally offered, his tone resigned.
Sam quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering where the hell he had managed to get a zat. But there was more there. Daniel’s offer was the closest he would get to condoning this enterprise.
She put a hand on his. “Thanks,” she said.
He gently squeezed her hand before pulling away, still refusing to look her in the eye.
It hurt, but she had no more room for emotional consideration. She would see this through.
Sam carefully arranged Wash’s capture. She followed him to a local haunt, a dark bar with bad music and a questionable clientele. Pressing a thousand dollars into the hands of a working girl for her to proposition Wash and lure him into a small back room.
Wash fell with a pathetic squeak after one hit with a zat. Another thousand dollars ensured the lady’s silence. She left without a backward glance, leaving Wash to the tender mercies of Teal’c and Sam.
Wash didn’t regain consciousness until after he was carefully tied down to a chair in the center of a lank, boxy room with solid concrete walls.
“What the hell?” he sputtered, glancing around at the room.
Sam let Teal’c stare menacingly at Wash while she methodically taped her hands. Split knuckles would be a dead give away. She still had to go back to work tomorrow, after all.
After they had dropped off Daniel the previous night, Teal’c and Sam had discussed how this would go down.
“Major Carter, you will let me do the interrogation.”
Sam thought interrogation was a rather glamorous word for what they had planned.
“I have done this many times,” Teal’c continued.
Sam knew that he wasn’t claiming that his experience would make him more effective. He was claiming that his soul was already stained; he wouldn’t be crossing any new lines. It was a form of darkness he knew how to deal with.
For the tiniest moment, Sam was tempted to take him up on the offer. It would be the easy way. But she shook her head instead. “This is something I have to do, Teal’c.”
Teal’c stared hard at her and she could almost read his thoughts. ‘O’Neill would not want you to become this in his name.’ But Teal’c did not speak the words.
Sam looked away, knowing he was right. But Jack was dead, so what he thought was immaterial. At least he would never have to witness it.
In the end, Teal’c had acquiesced, acknowledging Sam’s right. But he stood in the dank room with her, a constant presence of support and witness.
Sam finished with her hands and injected Wash with a cocktail of TD and sodium pentothal. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.
Wash looked at her with wide eyes, glancing from the syringe to Teal’c. He nodded once, swallowing thickly before saying, “Major Carter.”
“Do you know why we are here?” she continued.
Wash smirked now; obviously convinced he was in no real danger. After all, all he knew of Major Carter was the brainy lab geek. He had never seen her in the field. He had no idea what she was capable of. “Come now, Major,” he taunted, “do you really want to play this game?”
Sam carefully put the syringe away before turning back to Wash. “Yes,” she answered briefly before slamming her fist across his face.
There was a crunch of bone and Wash’s skin split. He blinked a couple of times to clear his head before spitting out blood and a lose tooth at Sam’s feet. “You bitch!” he shouted.
Sam carefully rubbed at her hand. “I want to know what happened on your mission with Colonel O’Neill,” she continued calmly.
“Fuck you,” he swore at her.
Sam didn’t hesitate to hit him again. And again. She had all night.
“Alright, alright!” he finally sputtered, spitting more blood on the floor. “We were ambushed. Morris went down under Jaffa fire and O’Neill went back to get her, ordering us to get back to the gate and open it up. Morris must have been dead, though, because O’Neill came running back, her tags in his hand, waving for us to go through. He was almost there when a wild shot hit him from behind. I checked his pulse and found none. So I grabbed his tags and high-tailed it back to the SGC.”
Sam had stood deathly still through his recitation, knowing that every word that fell from his lips was complete bull. She glanced at Teal’c and he carefully chose a small taser from the line of equipment Bill had provided and handed it to her.
“I want to know what happened on your mission with Colonel O’Neill,” she repeated calmly. “I want to know who you take your orders from.”
Wash eyed the taser, fear beginning to bloom in his eyes. “They will kill you,” he threatened. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Who?” Sam asked, holding the crackling taser inches from his skin. “Who?”
Wash licked his lips and sighed. “The NID.”
“The NID ordered the deaths of General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill?” Sam asked in clarification.
Wash nodded.
“I want names,” Sam demanded.
“I don’t know any names!” he swore.
Sam pressed the taser to his arm. She told herself that what made her different from the Goa’uld was that she found no pleasure in his screams, but she quickly shoved the thought aside.
“Oh god!” he swore when she stopped. “I just know that York and Mathers are in with them.”
“Who else?”
Wash began to snivel quietly. “I’ve only heard a few other names in passing…”
Sam waited quietly.
“Kinsey,” he finally whispered. “Oh man…they’re going to kill me…”
Kinsey. Sam felt everything swirl around her for a moment. She had known he was an arrogant fanatic that had it out for the SGC, but she never would have suspected that he would be behind this. That he would be in bed with the NID.
She carefully placed the taser back on the table before she asked the question she dreaded. It was morbid, but she had to know. “How did you kill them?” she demanded, holding his head steady in one hand, winding up the other for another punch.
But Wash didn’t need it. He was already broken, blubbering softly, swearing to tell them everything. That was the problem with bullies; they were rarely more than surface and cracked under the slightest pressure.
“We took their tags and made them kneel on the edge of a ravine. Morris was crying and O’Neill was whispering to her, all the while tugging at his restraints. York gave me a staff weapon and said, ‘Kinsey sends his regards, Colonel.’ Then York ordered me to shoot them.”
Wash closed his eyes and swayed slightly in the chair, blood dribbling down his chin.
“And then what?” Sam ordered in a rasp.
“I shot Morris, knocking her body off the edge of the cliff. O’Neill swore at us and stared me in the eye the whole time. I…I didn’t want to do it, but I knew York would kill me too if I didn’t!”
Sam walked a few paces away, willing her stomach to stop its tumultuous play. She would not throw up in front of this worthless piece of trash. That Jack would meet death in such a way. And Morris, whose only crime was the poor luck to have been deemed disposable by her superiors.
Wash swallowed compulsively before confessing in a small garbled voice, “I think I missed.”
Sam’s head snapped up. She crossed the room and grabbed him roughly by the jaw, feeling it give as she shook him. “What did you just say?” she growled.
“I was nervous,” he mumbled through the blood and pain. “My shot went wide, hitting O’Neill high on the chest. He was knocked off the cliff, though.”
Sam turned all her concentration on controlling her breathing, falling back against the hard wall. In and out, in and out, waiting for the world to right itself again. The minutes passed in agonizing silence as Sam tried her best not to completely lose it.
“Are you saying he could have survived?” she finally asked with deceptive calm.
Wash shook his head. “No…it was a tall cliff…rocks below. I don’t think-”
“You don’t think?” Sam snarled, venom dripping from every word.
Wash flinched under her gaze. “Well…maybe…possibly…,” he said weakly.
Sam rounded on him, yelling in a raw voice. “Maybe! Possibly! You think!” Each word was punctuated with a solid thud of her fist hitting his flesh.
She wanted to kill him, knew he deserved it. She wanted to kill him with nothing more than her bare hands, beating him slowly to death. Teal’c understood better than to try and stop her. She was well within her rights.
But something penetrated her bloodlust, broke into the sound of fists striking flesh.
“Killing a man is no badge of honor, Captain,” Jack warned her softly.
“I know.”
“Look, I'm no expert on this thing,” he said, waving Hanson’s Bible. “I generally read one commandment, and I think it's the first.”
"I am the Lord your God and you shall take no other gods before me?"
Jack smiled and shook his head. “Okay, so it's not the first one. I'm talking about the ‘no killing’ one. No matter what the reason, every time you break it, you take one step closer to Hanson.”
The words echoed in her ears, as if he had just whispered them to her.
Her fists dropped to her sides. She turned away from the unconscious bloody lump of a man, closing her eyes for a moment, letting calculated calm replace the lust of revenge. No one deserved to be beaten to death.
She grabbed the zat and fired at the man rapidly three times.
Now all that remained of him was the blood staining Sam’s skin.
She had willingly taken a step closer to that darkness Jack had warned her about. There was no pleasure, no revenge to be found. Just quick death. In the end, Wash was too much of a threat to her team to let him live. It was too early to show their hand. She had done what she had to do.
Wash could no longer spill their secrets. He could no longer betray the good men and women of the SGC and Earth.
And if she had to, Sam knew she would do it again.
Part 5: Shower
Scalding water tore into Sam’s skin. She watched the crimson flow circle the drain, wishing her sins could so easily wash away. She leaned her head into the stream, resting her forehead against the cool tile. Clenching her eyes shut against the view.
Her head swirled with the events of the night, flooding her brain, making it impossible to think. Fists and flesh. Blood and sweat. Life and death.
She would cry, but there were no more tears. She would puke, but she wasn’t sure she was human enough to do it anymore. So instead she just remembered.
Jack. Alive. Maybe. Possibly.
Every one of her instincts screamed for her to get through the gate as soon as possible. Her conscience swore at her for every wasted moment, every day she had waited, playing it safe. Had she killed him with her caution?
Staring at her bloodied hands, she mastered every careless impulse, forcing herself to look up at Teal’c.
He stared back at her and she felt he looked into every corner of her soul. There was no accusation, no disgust. Like he didn’t see the blood…
“Teal’c…do you think…is it possible?”
“It has been many days.”
Fourteen days to be exact, Sam’s mind supplied. With an unknown amount of injuries and no supplies, could anyone survive fourteen days?
“And would he not have returned if he was able?”
Another important question. If he was alive, where was he? Did he think it was too dangerous to return? Did he assume she had followed his last order and disappeared somewhere on Earth? Did he think there was nothing to return to?
“It seems unlikely,” Teal’c finally answered.
Sam slowly slid down the wall to sit on the hard floor, cursing the bout of hopefulness as it fled, leaving her even emptier than before.
“But it is O’Neill,” he qualified.
Sam stared up at Teal’c and tried to read him. Bill’s words floated around her head. ‘Damn, I thought that guy had more lives than a frickin’ cat.’
Jack O’Neill…intrepid leader of SG-1, the most bizarrely lucky team in the history of the SGC. Could he beat the odds? No matter how bad?
“There is always a chance, Major Carter,” Teal’c said, holding his hand out to Sam.
She reached out and took it, letting him pull her to her feet. She stared at her hand, carefully clenched in his. Hands that had killed. She pulled abruptly away and began pacing around the small room.
“I need to…,” Sam started, unable to completely put it into words.
But Teal’c was already there, reading her intentions. “It would be most difficult for you to access the Stargate, Major Carter.”
Chained to a desk. Sam had never felt more claustrophobic than she did now. Trapped. She would raise far too many suspicions if she tried to get off-world. Daniel was the same, an asset too important to risk with gate travel. Only one of them had legitimate access to the gate anymore.
Sam raised her eyes to look at Teal’c, realizing that he had already reached the same conclusion. “I believe that it is time I returned to my family, Major Carter. I find that with the death of O’Neill and the disbanding of SG-1, I have no compelling reason to stay among the Tau’ri.”
Sam closed her eyes for a moment, knowing this cover story was their only chance to find out what had happened to Jack. Restlessness filled her. She wanted to be the one to go, she needed to be the one to go. But she had her own role to play. Kinsey. Mathers. York.
She opened her eyes and met Teal’c’s with a steady gaze. “I think that’s a good idea, Teal’c.”
Sam wasn’t quite sure how she would finish this without him and she found herself leaning in to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hesitated for only a moment before returning the gesture.
“Bring him home, Teal’c.” At the very least, the grave next to young Charlie O’Neill’s would no longer be empty.
“You may be certain of it.” Teal’c pulled back from Sam and surprised her by kissing her gently on the forehead. “Be well.”
Sam nodded silently, but as Teal’c left the room, he paused at the threshold, turning back to her. His eyes glanced at the now empty chair and back to Sam. “Our regrets are what make us human, Major Carter, but it does no good to dwell.”
Sam couldn’t pretend not to understand what he meant. But she really wished she could.
The shower began to run cold and Sam reached out and shut it off. She rested her weary body against the tile. Pulling it together, so she could stand calmly by Daniel’s side, saying a convincing farewell to Teal’c at the SCG. Stiffening her spine, so she could ignore the way Daniel’s eyes no longer quite met hers. Pretend that he wasn’t disappointed in her.
Pretend that the path in front of her wasn’t endless and treacherous. That she wasn’t walking it alone.
After a deep breath, she grabbed a towel and began to rub her skin dry.
One foot in front of the other.
Part 6: Falling
She was falling, crashing towards the floor, knocking a tray as she went. Her body curled as softly to the ground as she could manage, keeping her head from smacking into the concrete. She kept her eyes tightly closed.
There were voices all around her and hands touching her skin. Someone called for a medic. In complete stillness she waited, listening for the brisk clip of Janet’s approach and her capable voice giving orders.
Sam didn’t want to involve her. She couldn’t risk her or Cassie, but she had reached a wall. It was only a matter of hours, or days if she was really lucky, until Wash’s disappearance became suspicious. She needed an exit strategy. One that wouldn’t leave Daniel in danger.
“Janet,” she said softly. “I need you to do something for me.”
Janet automatically opened her mouth, but Sam smoothly spoke over her. “Absolutely no questions asked.”
Janet shut her mouth, but her eyes continued to burn into Sam’s skin. She could feel her taking in every dark shadow, her expression letting Sam know what she wasn’t as ignorant of events as Sam would like to believe.
“Please, Janet. I wouldn’t ask if there wasn’t something vital at stake.”
Janet’s curiosity was obviously warring with her sense of duty to her friends. She eventually nodded, though, placing one hand on Sam’s. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Sam silently met her friend’s concerned gaze, strangely unable to let the lie fall from her lips.
They were lifting her carefully onto a gurney. Fingers pressed to her pulse points and hovered over her lips, feeling for her breath. She remained impassive.
Through her lids she could she the flicker of passing lights overhead as they sped through the corridors. They did little to dispel the memories that chose this moment to attack her as she lay alone in the darkness of her own mind.
Daniel sat across a small table from her, but the distance between them seemed even greater. The brown bag that contained Daniel’s new life sat near their feet again.
He played with his drink, making abstract patterns in the condensation. Sam couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d felt the full impact of his gaze. Not so long ago she had clung to him seeking comfort, his body curling around hers.
“I won’t run,” he said softly.
“I have to leave, Daniel. I need answers. I need proof.”
“I understand that.”
“There won’t be anyone left to watch your back.”
“I’ll just have to hope that they think I’m more valuable to the program than I am a threat to them,” he observed.
Sam wondered when exactly Daniel had become a tactician. Then again, he had always been a student of human behavior.
Sam pushed the bag back towards him. “Keep it,” she said. “Just in case.”
Daniel looked intently at the bag for a while before lifting his gaze to finally meet hers. “Okay,” he whispered.
They stared at each other for long moments.
Saying goodbye.
A hefting jerk brought Sam back to her surroundings. Monitors began to beep and there was the prick of needles in her flesh.
Janet’s cool fingers trailed over the back of Sam’s hand and she registered the barest whisper. “Rest.”
Sam’s thoughts began to slow and just before the darkness claimed her she realized that Janet had drugged her. But there was no more time to protest.
Janet pressed a mug of coffee into Sam’s hands. “You working through the night again?”
Sam smiled gratefully up at her, taking the cup. “Yeah. Lots of work to do. Thank you.”
“Look, Sam, there's no doubt you're going to solve this, but you have to accept the fact it's going to take time.”
“Yeah, well if I think that way, it could take months.”
“Daniel says the Tollan could have a ship in the vicinity of Edora some time next year.”
Sam sighed and put the coffee cup down, willing the numbers to make sense. “He shouldn't have to wait that long,” she replied, not bothering to look up from the screen in front of her.
“You miss him.”
It was a casual, gentle comment, but Sam could hear the warning beneath it. “Yeah,” Sam admitted before she was even aware of the answer.
“Is this a problem?”
“No. No, of course not,” Sam quickly said, forcing herself to meet Janet’s eyes.
“Okay,” she softly replied after a long pause, but Sam could tell she didn’t really believe her.
But Sam knew the truth. She would never let her emotions get in the way of her duty. When she looked back down at her keyboard, though, it was to find her fingers smeared with blood and Teal’c’s voice whispering in her ear.
“What is right cannot be measured by strength…”
Sam started awake to the sound of nearby voices. Janet, Bauer and Mathers were discussing her.
“Any idea why she fainted, Doctor?” Mathers was asking. Sam wasn’t sure if she was imaging things or not, but he sounded suspicious.
“I can’t say I’m surprised that this has happened, sir,” Janet replied calmly. “She’s been working herself to death these last few weeks. From her tests it’s also clear that she hasn’t been eating well or getting enough sleep. Add to that everything that’s happened…”
“But she’ll be alright?” Bauer chimed in.
“Yes, sir. She just needs rest. I would suggest at least a week off duty, but good luck convincing her of that.”
Sam chose that moment to stir awake. Time to see if her little performance worked. She pried open her eyes, grimacing against the hard glare of the room’s lighting. Raising one hand to her eyes she groaned, displeased to find that she didn’t have to fake it. Her head really was spinning a little bit.
They were immediately all by her side. “Sam? How are you feeling?” Janet asked kindly.
Sam looked up at Janet. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” she replied, but it was accompanied by a hard glare that told Sam she hadn’t had to fake her levels all that much. Sam was close enough to exhaustion and malnutrition without doctoring her chart. Janet was not pleased. “You’ve been skipping meals and not getting enough sleep, Major.”
Sam resisted rolling her eyes and pushed up from the bed instead. “I’m fine, really.”
“Obviously not, Major,” Bauer jumped in. “I’m going to have to insist that you take some time off.”
Sam put up a good show of protest until Bauer was forced to make it a direct order. Sam crossed her arms mutinously but acquiesced, not letting her sense of victory show. A week off to find the answers she needed.
Mathers stood behind Bauer the whole time, silently watching Sam closely. After a while he seemed satisfied and wandered off over to Janet, taking Sam’s chart and examining it.
When he was out of earshot, Sam was surprised to feel Bauer’s hand hesitantly cover hers.
Her eyes flew to his face, but she didn’t say anything.
Bauer glanced back at Mathers and then stared intently at the monitor by Sam’s bed. “Take a few days, Major,” he said quietly. “Do what you need to do.”
Sam remained still in complete shock. Bauer gently squeezed her hand, his eyes meeting hers for just a moment. There was something there she couldn’t quite name. Something she couldn’t believe she had seen. Understanding? Permission?
Before she could gather an appropriate response, Bauer walked away. “I’ll leave her to your capable hands, Dr. Fraiser,” he said as he passed out the doorway.
Sam closed her eyes, not wanting Mathers’ shrewd gaze to take in her confusion. Was Bauer trying to tell her that he was on her side? Or was he trying to get her to trust him so he could figure out what she was doing? Then why help her escape the SGC for a few days?
The questions swirled endlessly, serving only to bring on a migraine. She pushed Bauer’s questionable loyalties into the same box she kept her probably misguided hopes for Jack and locked it tightly. Fairytales had no place in the game she was playing.
She would rest. Just for a couple of hours. Then she would board a plane and finish this. Once and for all.
Her eyes drifted shut with the hum of machinery and the click of Janet’s heels as her lullaby.
Just a little longer.
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.
Part 4: Beyond
Sam stood in total shock, her back pressed against the cold anonymous concrete of the wall behind her. Everything was careening back and forth and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to breathe again.
Blood trickled down her wrists. She could feel it drying on her face. She licked it off her lips, horribly aware that it wasn’t her own.
From the beginning, Sam had known there would only be two ways to do this. Jack had tried the first, walking a careful path, cutting a few corners here and there. Essentially within the boundaries of the law and human decency. It hadn’t worked and he had died trying.
The second path yawned open before her. Sam knew she would walk outside of the lines. She would do whatever it took. She would push forward until the lines were nothing more than a distant memory.
Whatever it took.
At the noisy diner two nights before, Sam had listened to Teal’c and Daniel discuss various plans to draw out the members of the conspiracy. Brainstorming for ways to investigate without arousing the attention of the very people they wanted to bring down. After initially filling them in on everything she had discovered and suspected, Sam had said nothing.
She said nothing because she already knew what needed to be done. But she held her tongue, knowing that Daniel would never be able to understand. Teal’c had already worked it out, though. She could tell just by looking at him.
They needed details. They needed names. They needed someone on the inside to talk.
And Sam knew just how to do that.
Tucked into a tiny pocket on the interior of the briefcase left for her by Jack had been a single post-it note. ‘Just in case’ was written across the top above a name and an address.
Bill, 3526 East Trundel.
After dropping Teal’c and Daniel off, Sam had ventured back to Denver, pulling into the warehouse district under the cover of darkness.
A slightly overweight balding man opened the side door after Sam pounded on it, noting the small security camera perched on the lintel.
“Bill?” Sam asked quietly.
“That depends,” he responded with a smile, placing one hand on the jamb so that his jacket hung open, revealing a holstered gun.
“I’m Carter. Jack sent me,” she tried.
The man’s face broke into a wider smile and stepped away from the door. “Well in that case, you’re in the right place.”
Sam followed him inside, her eyes swiftly cataloging the six guards in various positions throughout the warehouse. The pressing familiarity of her sidearm at the back of her waist offered little comfort in the face of such odds. She’d just have to trust Jack.
“So what’s Jack up to these days? It’s been a while.”
“He’s dead,” Sam managed to say with a steady, uninvolved voice.
“Dead? Damn, I thought that guy had more lives than a frickin’ cat. But I guess everyone’s luck runs out eventually.”
He led her to a desk in a small office at the rear of the warehouse, gesturing for her to take a seat.
Sam quietly adjusted the seat so her back was no longer to the door and settled down, her eyes wandering over the office.
Bill smirked at the unconscious gesture. “You worked with Jack, right? He told me that if you ever came in that I should get you whatever you wanted.”
Sam nodded. “I need some equipment. Tasers, sodium pentothal, TD, and such.”
Bill’s eyebrows rose, but he just jotted down some notes and said, “I got it. I’ll get you the works.”
“I also need a location. A small room, thick walls, one entrance and no windows. In an out of the way spot. I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Bill nodded. “I think I’ve got something appropriate. Will you need clean up?”
Sam shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”
Bill didn’t bother to pry. They discussed various other items for a short while, Bill promising to have it all in place by dusk the next day.
Bill wouldn’t take any payment and Sam couldn’t quite bring herself to ask what Jack had done for him to make him so accommodating. So she just softly thanked him.
At the door, he reached out a hand to stop her. “He was a good man,” he observed. “I hope you get what you need.”
Sam raised her eyes to his face and let him see the determination there. “I won’t stop until I do,” she pledged quietly.
Bill nodded and released her arm, letting her walk back out into the night.
The next evening after work, Sam had met Daniel and Teal’c at a bar far from the base. Teal’c met Sam’s gaze steadily. “Have you made proper arrangements?”
Sam nodded, not surprised to find Teal’c on the same page before she had even spoken. He knew the stakes and he knew the techniques. One couldn’t be a First Prime and not know.
She could feel Daniel looking between them in confusion, but he was wisely keeping quiet.
“Who will it be?” Teal’c asked softly.
Sam took a deep breath, her choice already made. It had to be someone who knew what had happened on that planet, but preferably someone on the fringe. A lackey that could be easily broken.
“Wash,” she finally answered.
Teal’c nodded his agreement at the choice.
“He has leave for three days starting the day after tomorrow,” she continued. That more than anything had sealed his fate. No one would notice his absence.
Daniel was no longer looking confused. Now he stared down at his drink, his brow drawn tight. He was struggling, Sam could tell.
“There has to be another way,” he finally said.
“There is not,” Teal’c said.
Daniel dropped his head into his hands. “This is wrong.”
This was exactly why she had tried to get him to leave. “I don’t want you anywhere near this, Daniel. I mean it.” There was no room in her tone for discussion.
Daniel was still for a long time before he nodded once, not looking up at her.
“I need a zat,” Sam continued, satisfied that Daniel was going to follow her order.
“That may be difficult,” Teal’c noted.
Sam nodded, knowing it would be nearly impossible to slip one out of the SGC.
“I have one,” Daniel finally offered, his tone resigned.
Sam quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering where the hell he had managed to get a zat. But there was more there. Daniel’s offer was the closest he would get to condoning this enterprise.
She put a hand on his. “Thanks,” she said.
He gently squeezed her hand before pulling away, still refusing to look her in the eye.
It hurt, but she had no more room for emotional consideration. She would see this through.
Sam carefully arranged Wash’s capture. She followed him to a local haunt, a dark bar with bad music and a questionable clientele. Pressing a thousand dollars into the hands of a working girl for her to proposition Wash and lure him into a small back room.
Wash fell with a pathetic squeak after one hit with a zat. Another thousand dollars ensured the lady’s silence. She left without a backward glance, leaving Wash to the tender mercies of Teal’c and Sam.
Wash didn’t regain consciousness until after he was carefully tied down to a chair in the center of a lank, boxy room with solid concrete walls.
“What the hell?” he sputtered, glancing around at the room.
Sam let Teal’c stare menacingly at Wash while she methodically taped her hands. Split knuckles would be a dead give away. She still had to go back to work tomorrow, after all.
After they had dropped off Daniel the previous night, Teal’c and Sam had discussed how this would go down.
“Major Carter, you will let me do the interrogation.”
Sam thought interrogation was a rather glamorous word for what they had planned.
“I have done this many times,” Teal’c continued.
Sam knew that he wasn’t claiming that his experience would make him more effective. He was claiming that his soul was already stained; he wouldn’t be crossing any new lines. It was a form of darkness he knew how to deal with.
For the tiniest moment, Sam was tempted to take him up on the offer. It would be the easy way. But she shook her head instead. “This is something I have to do, Teal’c.”
Teal’c stared hard at her and she could almost read his thoughts. ‘O’Neill would not want you to become this in his name.’ But Teal’c did not speak the words.
Sam looked away, knowing he was right. But Jack was dead, so what he thought was immaterial. At least he would never have to witness it.
In the end, Teal’c had acquiesced, acknowledging Sam’s right. But he stood in the dank room with her, a constant presence of support and witness.
Sam finished with her hands and injected Wash with a cocktail of TD and sodium pentothal. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.
Wash looked at her with wide eyes, glancing from the syringe to Teal’c. He nodded once, swallowing thickly before saying, “Major Carter.”
“Do you know why we are here?” she continued.
Wash smirked now; obviously convinced he was in no real danger. After all, all he knew of Major Carter was the brainy lab geek. He had never seen her in the field. He had no idea what she was capable of. “Come now, Major,” he taunted, “do you really want to play this game?”
Sam carefully put the syringe away before turning back to Wash. “Yes,” she answered briefly before slamming her fist across his face.
There was a crunch of bone and Wash’s skin split. He blinked a couple of times to clear his head before spitting out blood and a lose tooth at Sam’s feet. “You bitch!” he shouted.
Sam carefully rubbed at her hand. “I want to know what happened on your mission with Colonel O’Neill,” she continued calmly.
“Fuck you,” he swore at her.
Sam didn’t hesitate to hit him again. And again. She had all night.
“Alright, alright!” he finally sputtered, spitting more blood on the floor. “We were ambushed. Morris went down under Jaffa fire and O’Neill went back to get her, ordering us to get back to the gate and open it up. Morris must have been dead, though, because O’Neill came running back, her tags in his hand, waving for us to go through. He was almost there when a wild shot hit him from behind. I checked his pulse and found none. So I grabbed his tags and high-tailed it back to the SGC.”
Sam had stood deathly still through his recitation, knowing that every word that fell from his lips was complete bull. She glanced at Teal’c and he carefully chose a small taser from the line of equipment Bill had provided and handed it to her.
“I want to know what happened on your mission with Colonel O’Neill,” she repeated calmly. “I want to know who you take your orders from.”
Wash eyed the taser, fear beginning to bloom in his eyes. “They will kill you,” he threatened. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Who?” Sam asked, holding the crackling taser inches from his skin. “Who?”
Wash licked his lips and sighed. “The NID.”
“The NID ordered the deaths of General Hammond and Colonel O’Neill?” Sam asked in clarification.
Wash nodded.
“I want names,” Sam demanded.
“I don’t know any names!” he swore.
Sam pressed the taser to his arm. She told herself that what made her different from the Goa’uld was that she found no pleasure in his screams, but she quickly shoved the thought aside.
“Oh god!” he swore when she stopped. “I just know that York and Mathers are in with them.”
“Who else?”
Wash began to snivel quietly. “I’ve only heard a few other names in passing…”
Sam waited quietly.
“Kinsey,” he finally whispered. “Oh man…they’re going to kill me…”
Kinsey. Sam felt everything swirl around her for a moment. She had known he was an arrogant fanatic that had it out for the SGC, but she never would have suspected that he would be behind this. That he would be in bed with the NID.
She carefully placed the taser back on the table before she asked the question she dreaded. It was morbid, but she had to know. “How did you kill them?” she demanded, holding his head steady in one hand, winding up the other for another punch.
But Wash didn’t need it. He was already broken, blubbering softly, swearing to tell them everything. That was the problem with bullies; they were rarely more than surface and cracked under the slightest pressure.
“We took their tags and made them kneel on the edge of a ravine. Morris was crying and O’Neill was whispering to her, all the while tugging at his restraints. York gave me a staff weapon and said, ‘Kinsey sends his regards, Colonel.’ Then York ordered me to shoot them.”
Wash closed his eyes and swayed slightly in the chair, blood dribbling down his chin.
“And then what?” Sam ordered in a rasp.
“I shot Morris, knocking her body off the edge of the cliff. O’Neill swore at us and stared me in the eye the whole time. I…I didn’t want to do it, but I knew York would kill me too if I didn’t!”
Sam walked a few paces away, willing her stomach to stop its tumultuous play. She would not throw up in front of this worthless piece of trash. That Jack would meet death in such a way. And Morris, whose only crime was the poor luck to have been deemed disposable by her superiors.
Wash swallowed compulsively before confessing in a small garbled voice, “I think I missed.”
Sam’s head snapped up. She crossed the room and grabbed him roughly by the jaw, feeling it give as she shook him. “What did you just say?” she growled.
“I was nervous,” he mumbled through the blood and pain. “My shot went wide, hitting O’Neill high on the chest. He was knocked off the cliff, though.”
Sam turned all her concentration on controlling her breathing, falling back against the hard wall. In and out, in and out, waiting for the world to right itself again. The minutes passed in agonizing silence as Sam tried her best not to completely lose it.
“Are you saying he could have survived?” she finally asked with deceptive calm.
Wash shook his head. “No…it was a tall cliff…rocks below. I don’t think-”
“You don’t think?” Sam snarled, venom dripping from every word.
Wash flinched under her gaze. “Well…maybe…possibly…,” he said weakly.
Sam rounded on him, yelling in a raw voice. “Maybe! Possibly! You think!” Each word was punctuated with a solid thud of her fist hitting his flesh.
She wanted to kill him, knew he deserved it. She wanted to kill him with nothing more than her bare hands, beating him slowly to death. Teal’c understood better than to try and stop her. She was well within her rights.
But something penetrated her bloodlust, broke into the sound of fists striking flesh.
“Killing a man is no badge of honor, Captain,” Jack warned her softly.
“I know.”
“Look, I'm no expert on this thing,” he said, waving Hanson’s Bible. “I generally read one commandment, and I think it's the first.”
"I am the Lord your God and you shall take no other gods before me?"
Jack smiled and shook his head. “Okay, so it's not the first one. I'm talking about the ‘no killing’ one. No matter what the reason, every time you break it, you take one step closer to Hanson.”
The words echoed in her ears, as if he had just whispered them to her.
Her fists dropped to her sides. She turned away from the unconscious bloody lump of a man, closing her eyes for a moment, letting calculated calm replace the lust of revenge. No one deserved to be beaten to death.
She grabbed the zat and fired at the man rapidly three times.
Now all that remained of him was the blood staining Sam’s skin.
She had willingly taken a step closer to that darkness Jack had warned her about. There was no pleasure, no revenge to be found. Just quick death. In the end, Wash was too much of a threat to her team to let him live. It was too early to show their hand. She had done what she had to do.
Wash could no longer spill their secrets. He could no longer betray the good men and women of the SGC and Earth.
And if she had to, Sam knew she would do it again.
Part 5: Shower
Scalding water tore into Sam’s skin. She watched the crimson flow circle the drain, wishing her sins could so easily wash away. She leaned her head into the stream, resting her forehead against the cool tile. Clenching her eyes shut against the view.
Her head swirled with the events of the night, flooding her brain, making it impossible to think. Fists and flesh. Blood and sweat. Life and death.
She would cry, but there were no more tears. She would puke, but she wasn’t sure she was human enough to do it anymore. So instead she just remembered.
Jack. Alive. Maybe. Possibly.
Every one of her instincts screamed for her to get through the gate as soon as possible. Her conscience swore at her for every wasted moment, every day she had waited, playing it safe. Had she killed him with her caution?
Staring at her bloodied hands, she mastered every careless impulse, forcing herself to look up at Teal’c.
He stared back at her and she felt he looked into every corner of her soul. There was no accusation, no disgust. Like he didn’t see the blood…
“Teal’c…do you think…is it possible?”
“It has been many days.”
Fourteen days to be exact, Sam’s mind supplied. With an unknown amount of injuries and no supplies, could anyone survive fourteen days?
“And would he not have returned if he was able?”
Another important question. If he was alive, where was he? Did he think it was too dangerous to return? Did he assume she had followed his last order and disappeared somewhere on Earth? Did he think there was nothing to return to?
“It seems unlikely,” Teal’c finally answered.
Sam slowly slid down the wall to sit on the hard floor, cursing the bout of hopefulness as it fled, leaving her even emptier than before.
“But it is O’Neill,” he qualified.
Sam stared up at Teal’c and tried to read him. Bill’s words floated around her head. ‘Damn, I thought that guy had more lives than a frickin’ cat.’
Jack O’Neill…intrepid leader of SG-1, the most bizarrely lucky team in the history of the SGC. Could he beat the odds? No matter how bad?
“There is always a chance, Major Carter,” Teal’c said, holding his hand out to Sam.
She reached out and took it, letting him pull her to her feet. She stared at her hand, carefully clenched in his. Hands that had killed. She pulled abruptly away and began pacing around the small room.
“I need to…,” Sam started, unable to completely put it into words.
But Teal’c was already there, reading her intentions. “It would be most difficult for you to access the Stargate, Major Carter.”
Chained to a desk. Sam had never felt more claustrophobic than she did now. Trapped. She would raise far too many suspicions if she tried to get off-world. Daniel was the same, an asset too important to risk with gate travel. Only one of them had legitimate access to the gate anymore.
Sam raised her eyes to look at Teal’c, realizing that he had already reached the same conclusion. “I believe that it is time I returned to my family, Major Carter. I find that with the death of O’Neill and the disbanding of SG-1, I have no compelling reason to stay among the Tau’ri.”
Sam closed her eyes for a moment, knowing this cover story was their only chance to find out what had happened to Jack. Restlessness filled her. She wanted to be the one to go, she needed to be the one to go. But she had her own role to play. Kinsey. Mathers. York.
She opened her eyes and met Teal’c’s with a steady gaze. “I think that’s a good idea, Teal’c.”
Sam wasn’t quite sure how she would finish this without him and she found herself leaning in to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hesitated for only a moment before returning the gesture.
“Bring him home, Teal’c.” At the very least, the grave next to young Charlie O’Neill’s would no longer be empty.
“You may be certain of it.” Teal’c pulled back from Sam and surprised her by kissing her gently on the forehead. “Be well.”
Sam nodded silently, but as Teal’c left the room, he paused at the threshold, turning back to her. His eyes glanced at the now empty chair and back to Sam. “Our regrets are what make us human, Major Carter, but it does no good to dwell.”
Sam couldn’t pretend not to understand what he meant. But she really wished she could.
The shower began to run cold and Sam reached out and shut it off. She rested her weary body against the tile. Pulling it together, so she could stand calmly by Daniel’s side, saying a convincing farewell to Teal’c at the SCG. Stiffening her spine, so she could ignore the way Daniel’s eyes no longer quite met hers. Pretend that he wasn’t disappointed in her.
Pretend that the path in front of her wasn’t endless and treacherous. That she wasn’t walking it alone.
After a deep breath, she grabbed a towel and began to rub her skin dry.
One foot in front of the other.
Part 6: Falling
She was falling, crashing towards the floor, knocking a tray as she went. Her body curled as softly to the ground as she could manage, keeping her head from smacking into the concrete. She kept her eyes tightly closed.
There were voices all around her and hands touching her skin. Someone called for a medic. In complete stillness she waited, listening for the brisk clip of Janet’s approach and her capable voice giving orders.
Sam didn’t want to involve her. She couldn’t risk her or Cassie, but she had reached a wall. It was only a matter of hours, or days if she was really lucky, until Wash’s disappearance became suspicious. She needed an exit strategy. One that wouldn’t leave Daniel in danger.
“Janet,” she said softly. “I need you to do something for me.”
Janet automatically opened her mouth, but Sam smoothly spoke over her. “Absolutely no questions asked.”
Janet shut her mouth, but her eyes continued to burn into Sam’s skin. She could feel her taking in every dark shadow, her expression letting Sam know what she wasn’t as ignorant of events as Sam would like to believe.
“Please, Janet. I wouldn’t ask if there wasn’t something vital at stake.”
Janet’s curiosity was obviously warring with her sense of duty to her friends. She eventually nodded, though, placing one hand on Sam’s. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Sam silently met her friend’s concerned gaze, strangely unable to let the lie fall from her lips.
They were lifting her carefully onto a gurney. Fingers pressed to her pulse points and hovered over her lips, feeling for her breath. She remained impassive.
Through her lids she could she the flicker of passing lights overhead as they sped through the corridors. They did little to dispel the memories that chose this moment to attack her as she lay alone in the darkness of her own mind.
Daniel sat across a small table from her, but the distance between them seemed even greater. The brown bag that contained Daniel’s new life sat near their feet again.
He played with his drink, making abstract patterns in the condensation. Sam couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d felt the full impact of his gaze. Not so long ago she had clung to him seeking comfort, his body curling around hers.
“I won’t run,” he said softly.
“I have to leave, Daniel. I need answers. I need proof.”
“I understand that.”
“There won’t be anyone left to watch your back.”
“I’ll just have to hope that they think I’m more valuable to the program than I am a threat to them,” he observed.
Sam wondered when exactly Daniel had become a tactician. Then again, he had always been a student of human behavior.
Sam pushed the bag back towards him. “Keep it,” she said. “Just in case.”
Daniel looked intently at the bag for a while before lifting his gaze to finally meet hers. “Okay,” he whispered.
They stared at each other for long moments.
Saying goodbye.
A hefting jerk brought Sam back to her surroundings. Monitors began to beep and there was the prick of needles in her flesh.
Janet’s cool fingers trailed over the back of Sam’s hand and she registered the barest whisper. “Rest.”
Sam’s thoughts began to slow and just before the darkness claimed her she realized that Janet had drugged her. But there was no more time to protest.
Janet pressed a mug of coffee into Sam’s hands. “You working through the night again?”
Sam smiled gratefully up at her, taking the cup. “Yeah. Lots of work to do. Thank you.”
“Look, Sam, there's no doubt you're going to solve this, but you have to accept the fact it's going to take time.”
“Yeah, well if I think that way, it could take months.”
“Daniel says the Tollan could have a ship in the vicinity of Edora some time next year.”
Sam sighed and put the coffee cup down, willing the numbers to make sense. “He shouldn't have to wait that long,” she replied, not bothering to look up from the screen in front of her.
“You miss him.”
It was a casual, gentle comment, but Sam could hear the warning beneath it. “Yeah,” Sam admitted before she was even aware of the answer.
“Is this a problem?”
“No. No, of course not,” Sam quickly said, forcing herself to meet Janet’s eyes.
“Okay,” she softly replied after a long pause, but Sam could tell she didn’t really believe her.
But Sam knew the truth. She would never let her emotions get in the way of her duty. When she looked back down at her keyboard, though, it was to find her fingers smeared with blood and Teal’c’s voice whispering in her ear.
“What is right cannot be measured by strength…”
Sam started awake to the sound of nearby voices. Janet, Bauer and Mathers were discussing her.
“Any idea why she fainted, Doctor?” Mathers was asking. Sam wasn’t sure if she was imaging things or not, but he sounded suspicious.
“I can’t say I’m surprised that this has happened, sir,” Janet replied calmly. “She’s been working herself to death these last few weeks. From her tests it’s also clear that she hasn’t been eating well or getting enough sleep. Add to that everything that’s happened…”
“But she’ll be alright?” Bauer chimed in.
“Yes, sir. She just needs rest. I would suggest at least a week off duty, but good luck convincing her of that.”
Sam chose that moment to stir awake. Time to see if her little performance worked. She pried open her eyes, grimacing against the hard glare of the room’s lighting. Raising one hand to her eyes she groaned, displeased to find that she didn’t have to fake it. Her head really was spinning a little bit.
They were immediately all by her side. “Sam? How are you feeling?” Janet asked kindly.
Sam looked up at Janet. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” she replied, but it was accompanied by a hard glare that told Sam she hadn’t had to fake her levels all that much. Sam was close enough to exhaustion and malnutrition without doctoring her chart. Janet was not pleased. “You’ve been skipping meals and not getting enough sleep, Major.”
Sam resisted rolling her eyes and pushed up from the bed instead. “I’m fine, really.”
“Obviously not, Major,” Bauer jumped in. “I’m going to have to insist that you take some time off.”
Sam put up a good show of protest until Bauer was forced to make it a direct order. Sam crossed her arms mutinously but acquiesced, not letting her sense of victory show. A week off to find the answers she needed.
Mathers stood behind Bauer the whole time, silently watching Sam closely. After a while he seemed satisfied and wandered off over to Janet, taking Sam’s chart and examining it.
When he was out of earshot, Sam was surprised to feel Bauer’s hand hesitantly cover hers.
Her eyes flew to his face, but she didn’t say anything.
Bauer glanced back at Mathers and then stared intently at the monitor by Sam’s bed. “Take a few days, Major,” he said quietly. “Do what you need to do.”
Sam remained still in complete shock. Bauer gently squeezed her hand, his eyes meeting hers for just a moment. There was something there she couldn’t quite name. Something she couldn’t believe she had seen. Understanding? Permission?
Before she could gather an appropriate response, Bauer walked away. “I’ll leave her to your capable hands, Dr. Fraiser,” he said as he passed out the doorway.
Sam closed her eyes, not wanting Mathers’ shrewd gaze to take in her confusion. Was Bauer trying to tell her that he was on her side? Or was he trying to get her to trust him so he could figure out what she was doing? Then why help her escape the SGC for a few days?
The questions swirled endlessly, serving only to bring on a migraine. She pushed Bauer’s questionable loyalties into the same box she kept her probably misguided hopes for Jack and locked it tightly. Fairytales had no place in the game she was playing.
She would rest. Just for a couple of hours. Then she would board a plane and finish this. Once and for all.
Her eyes drifted shut with the hum of machinery and the click of Janet’s heels as her lullaby.
Just a little longer.
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