SG1: Cause & Effect

Disclaimers: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the television series Stargate SG-1. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/US, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I claim no ownership of the characters. Only using them for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed.

AN: After recently seeing Continuum for the first time, I wondered what would happen if the Sam's in different dimensions were impacted by what happened as we saw it. Definitely S/J. Could be considered AU, but so could the entire episode. J

#1

Realizing the General has shoved his face into Ba'al's, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter-O'Neill instinctively tensed. There was no way he should be that close to the Goa'uld, even if he was restrained. Before she could say anything or move closer, her eyes widened as she realized that Ba'al was not restrained.

Horror washed over her as she watched him snatch the needle and plunge it into Jack's chest. Seeing O'Neill crumble to the floor she threw herself beside him. She was only vaguely aware of the weapon fire echoing around her or of Daniel Jackson beside her.

Her only focus was on her husband lying on the ground fighting for his life. She knew that Ba'al's aim had been too accurate for there to be any hope that he had missed Jack's heart.

"Get to the gate," Jack hissed with the last of his energy, locking eyes with her.

Shaking her head, Sam forced her words past the tears clogging her throat. "Not without you," she eked out, not caring for her own safety if he was going to remain there.

"Go," Jack whispered with his dying breath.

Inside, a part of her mind was screaming to do something to save him. The other part was frozen in grief and despair at the sight of the lifeless body in front of her. She wasn't sure she knew how to breath or that her own heart hadn't stopped let alone what to do for him.

Rough hands grabbing her, brought her upright. A gasped and pained scream of denial and rebellion escaped her lips before awareness came back to her.

Realizing she was in bed, an anguished "God," escaped her lips as she tried to draw a breath. Pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face into them, she felt the tremors cascading through her body like the tears streaming down her face.

It had felt so real.

Raising her head to confirm she was truly in her bedroom, she rose, forcing her legs to take her to the bathroom. Throwing water on her face, she looked up only to see anguished blue eyes staring back at her.

"It was a dream," she murmured, trying to convince herself that the sadness and terror echoing in her was not needed and could be allowed to dissipate. But they refused to leave. The weight of them almost brought her to her knees.

Closing her eyes, Sam struggled to keep back the tears that threatened to fall again. Pushing herself away from the bathroom counter, she staggered back through the bedroom and down the hallway. Pausing at the doorway to the kitchen, she caught herself on the molding around the opening and used it to stay upright on shaky legs.

Staring into the kitchen, her eyes frantically searched for an anchor to keep her from falling into the abyss that threatened to engulf her. Finding it on the barstool, she drew a ragged whimpered breath.

The sound snapped Major General Jack O'Neill's head up from the paper he had been reading in the breakfast nook. Without conscious thought, he found himself across the short space and reaching to steady the woman in front of him.

Running eyes over her stark white features and haunted eyes, he knew that whatever was affecting her was not physical in nature. The fact she appeared to be ready to collapse was not due to an illness. This was something else.

Reaching out, he enveloped her against his body. Feeling the tremors that continued to pour through her, he tightened his grip. "I've got you," he murmured into her hair.

"You're here," she choked out into his neck after a few minutes. "You're here," she reiterated desperately, the grip on him easing only slightly with the words.

"Yeah, I'm here," Jack assured her, his breath caressing her neck with each word. When he felt the tremors ease and she loosened her arms from their death grip on him, he let out a silent breath of relief. Brushing his lips on her neck, he pulled back slightly to force her to look at him. "Nightmare?" he hazarded, brushing the wetness from her cheeks.

A slight nod was all she could do. It took her several more moments before she could speak. "You," Sam stopped, unable to say the word choking her. Swallowing, she ran eyes over his features to re-memorize them before looking into worried, but tender chocolate eyes. "I couldn't save you," she whispered. New tears appeared in her eyes. "They were trying to drag me away from you, make me leave you there."

"They?" he asked softly, trying to understand and help her release the lingering effects by talking through it.

Frowning, she tried to remember. "Colonel Mitchell," she finally said uncertain if it was true. She didn't know any Colonel Mitchell.

"Mitchell?" Jack asked, trying to place the name.

Shaking her head, she couldn't explain more.

"It was a dream," Jack said softly, running his hand gently up and down her back to soothe her. "It doesn't matter who he is because he isn't real. I'm here. We're both okay," he added, pressing his lips to her temple before resting his face against hers.

"It doesn't feel like a dream," Sam whispered back.

#2

Pulling into a parking spot, Doctor Samantha O'Neill tried to shake off the wave of paralyzing grief that had overcome her as she drove. Pulling the keys from the ignition, her eyes caught the shiny fish on the fob. Running her finger across it, she was surprised when tears sprung into her eyes.

"Mom?"

Startled, Sam forced a shaky smile onto her face and blinked several times before turning to look at her son. "Yeah," she breathed, her hand wrapping around the keys. Seeing a question in his brown eyes, she shook her head. "It's nothing," tightening her grip. Reaching for the door, she was stopped by her son grabbing her arm. Closing her eyes briefly, she settled back in the seat.

Realizing he was not going to let it go, she drew in a deep breath and shook her head again, this time, partly due to the inherent irony, partly in sorrow. "Sometimes you act just like your father," she said softly, staring out the front window at the people passing by. "He wouldn't of let it go either."

"You miss him," Jonathan O'Neill, Junior said watching as his mother tried to cover up the sorrow in her features. "So do I," he added swallowing hard. "But he wouldn't want us to be sad. He'd want us to go on living."

"I know," Sam said, reaching across to lay her hand on his face. "I don't know why, but it just hit me again really hard. It was like it just happened. Like it was three years ago and there were officers in our living room saying his plane had crashed." Running her eyes across her son's features, she smiled softly. "You look just like him, you know that?"

Snorting, Jon shifted. "Grandma says that every time we are there."

"It's not a bad thing, you know," Sam said, injecting humor in her tone.

Nodding, Jon looked down at his hand and frowned.

Seeing the change in his features, it was Sam's turn to find out what was going on. "What's up?" She prodded gently.

"I want to join the Air Force, fly experimental planes like Dad did," the young man blurted out.

Sam couldn't stop the sudden inhalation or tears that appeared in her eyes at his words. Turning her head, she mindlessly watched the other shoppers come and go while she tried to figure out what to say. Jack would have been so proud at this moment. In a way she was too, but the thought of her son potentially dying in a crash like his father was too much. It would be the end of her. There were days after Jack's death that the only reason she had to go on was Jon. But she wouldn't stop him. Jack wouldn't have wanted that.

"Mom?"

Clearing her throat, she threw him a brief smile and look. "You're only fourteen. Can we give it a few more years before we decide that?" she asked, cringing at the slight sound of begging in her tone.

Relief that she hadn't said no, Jon let out a breath. "Okay." Pausing a minute, he watched as his mother stared at the keys in her hand and the fob that he remembered being on his father's keys. Feeling like he needed to do something, he shifted. "Are we going in or can we go back home and I can finish watching my program?"

Laughing at the whiny, pathetic pitch of her son's tone, Sam tried to shake off the sorrow. "The Simpsons will still be on AFTER we get your school clothes," she asserted, gathering up her purse. "Come on, the quicker we get in there, the quicker the torture can end."

Exiting, she couldn't help but stop and look upward toward the sky, wishing Jack was there. Steeling herself, she forced her feet to move. It was all she could do without him.

#3

Startling, Colonel Samantha Carter looked frantically around trying to find her teammates that had disappeared. "Where...?" she blurted out, before a wave of feelings flashed through her. Trying to figure out what was occurring, she heard a growl come from Brigadier General Jack O'Neill beside her.

Knowing he was going to do something, she dove to stop the unarmed and unprotected man from nearing the Goa'uld in front of him. "NO," she snapped, grabbing his arm. Pulling him back a few steps, she spun to plant herself in front of him to block any further steps forward. "Sir," she began only to stop at the look on Jack's face.

Steeling herself against the fury being directed at her, she barely registered the dilation of his eyes and heard the beginning of the warning yells before she felt the needle being jabbed into the side of her neck. Shock permeated her body as she felt sticky warmth running down her chest and the sounds of gunshots echoing against the stone surrounding them.

"CARTER!" O'Neill called, grabbing her to stop her from falling to the floor. Easing her down, he followed her using his body to cradle her. Frantically pressing a hand against her neck, he instinctively looked to make sure that Ba'al posed no continuing threat.

Seeing none, he focused his attention back on the woman in his arms. He could feel the life slipping from her as the blood seeped through his fingers. "Carter. Sam," he whispered in anguish.

Hearing her name, Sam opened her eyes to stare into the sorrowful, desperate brown eyes burrowing into hers. "Couldn't let you," she rasped, a cough stopping her from continuing.

"Should have," he growled, his voice choked with grief.

"Get to the gate," Sam hissed, pushing slightly on his arm to indicate she meant for him to leave her.

"Not happening," Jack snapped back, tightening his hold.

"Leave me," she forced out, fighting the spots dancing in front of her eyes. "Daniel," she called, her words thick. Seeing him beside her, she flicked her eyes toward the man who was like a brother to her. "Make him."

"Not going to happen Jackson so don't even think about it," Jack snarled, pulling Sam tighter.

Glancing backwards at the sound of approaching Jaffa, Doctor Daniel Jackson ignored his closest friend and squeezed Sam's hand. "I will. I promise," he said, smiling tightly at the relief that appeared in her eyes.

Using the last of her energy, Sam pulled her hand from Daniel and raised it to touch Jack's face. Locking eyes with him again, she tried to show him how much she loved him. "Go," she breathed as the blackness claimed her.

Feeling her body go limp and the beating of her heart stop under his fingers, shock permeated Jack. Blankly he looked up at Daniel when the younger man grabbed his shoulder.

"We have to go," Daniel stated firmly, pushing back his own grief. Seeing no reaction, he tried again. "Jack, let's go."

Shrugging off the hand pulling on him, Jack focused his attention back on the woman in his arms. "Go on. You and Mitchell get to the gate," he said flatly. "That's an order."

"Not without you," Daniel snapped, glancing backward again in desperation at the sounds coming closer. Glancing up at Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell to confirm they were about out of time, he grabbed Jack's chin and forced him to look up. "She died to save your sorry ass. Don't you dare defile her final act by staying her and getting killed for nothing," he snarled, hoping the fury would permeate Jack's grief.

Seeing a chink in Jack's armor, Daniel stood and pulled on his arm to urge him to his feet. Feeling resistance, he snapped out his name in frustration, "Jack!" Immediately regretting it and knowing he had to tread lightly, he stooped back down to look at him. "We'll come back for her," he added softly.

Staring into Daniel's eyes, Jack finally nodded his agreement. Reaching down, he pulled Sam's dog tags from under her shirt and snapped the chain holding them. Swallowing hard, he eased her off his body and laid her on the floor. Unclipping her weapon, he tore his eyes from her and stood on shaky legs.

Gripping Jack's arm in support, Daniel nodded to Mitchell. "Let's get out of here."

AN: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.