The Equivalence Principle
Someone once told her that if you put a frog in boiling water it'll hop out, save itself. However, if you slowly heat the water with the frog already inside it won't know what's happening until it's too late. It's not true, she knows, but she thinks it's an appropriate analogy for what's happened to her.
By the time she knows what's happening it's too late to save herself.
She's not sure when it started, the pull that losing him creates. She should be sure. She's a scientist after all, and she should have noted the time and date she first felt the force acting upon her. Quantifying it would have made her more aware, able to get herself away before gravity pulled her in.
/\/
She isn't supposed to be looking for him. The knowledge that she's doing so anyway bothers her, but she can't stop herself. Telling herself the shield generator is likely in the part of the facility not masquerading as the SGC, she makes her way through the tunnels.
When she finds the prone Tok'ra she doesn't allow her relief to show itself, instead making quick work of the revival process on the cryotube.
She's still disoriented from the effects of Hathor's hand device when he pulls her to him. She can feel his fingers flexing against her back as he shivers convulsively and pulls him closer, telling herself it's about sharing body heat and not the need to reassure herself he's still alive, still himself.
/\/
She's saved him, but maybe he doesn't want that. The idea that he might want to stay here bothers here more than it should and she realises just how deep her lie to Doctor Fraiser runs. More than just physical attraction, she knows she can't leave here without him.
He walks away from her, turning his back on her and holding the native woman - Laira, she remembers - and she feels the echo of Doctor Carter. Feels just as much the outsider as she had watching him kiss her alternate, but this is worse somehow. This woman is a stranger in a way that Doctor Carter wasn't and she feels as though Laira has taken something from her.
But he leaves with them, and she supposes the pull of his duty is too strong.
/\/
She watches him hold the gate open, not sure she knows him anymore, not sure she wants to. He's out of uniform, no longer part of the thing she'd thought meant so much to both of them, and she can't for the life of her understand how he's here. He'd left them for Laira and she can't stop her eyes flicking between him and the event horizon, expecting the other woman to walk through the gate at any moment. Then his new team - his targets - start coming through and she begins to understand that this was never about Laira.
He arrests Makepeace and talks pointedly about how they need their allies, not their technology, all the while avoiding looking at SG1 and she realises where he's been.
She hates him a little then - more than she had when he'd denied she knew him - a feeling that will return again and again.
Because he can lie to her. It's easy for him. And, when he needs her to, he can always, always make her believe him.
Still, her body's own betrayal is worse. He'd come through the gate and her eyes locked onto him, anger fueling the intense once over that tells her he's alright. When the gateroom starts to clear out he moves to stand before them and she can't help the smile. It'll be put down to forgiveness for his deception, she knows, but for herself, she knows it's more than that. It's relief. He's back, he never really left.
She does know him.
/\/
She'd thought herself alone in this. This deeper-than-appropriate feeling, this respect-attraction-need thing she won't label. She'd thought herself alone and the moment she realises she's not scares her.
He won't leave.
The refusal is torn from him and she sees the moment he realises how exposed he is. This isn't No, Carter or Not without you, Major. It's not even We don't leave our people behind. Colonel O'Neill has nothing to do with this.
Jack does.
She can't let this happen, but she can't stop it. She knows she can't make him leave if he doesn't want to and knows there's something of their CO / subordinate relationship in her failure to make him save himself, but really it's just who he is. He won't leave here without her because he can't.
When the forcefield falls she's almost as relieved for her own sake as she is for his. He doesn't mention it and neither does she, the moment they realised he was prepared to die here so she wouldn't be alone. So that he wouldn't be without her. They're gone, meeting Teal'c and Daniel coming back to find them and she manages to convince herself it's a team thing, an SG1 thing. Not a them thing. Not a problem, not really. Not something they need to do anything about.
/\/
I just got a mayday from Jack.
She insists on staying behind to fix the engines so her father can fly the ship to him. Jacob isn't happy about it she knows, but it's worth it when Daniel brings him onto the peltac, right up until she realises he's alone.
Teal'c is gone and they can't get to him, can't make it home. The loss of her friend hurts her as much as she can tell it's hurting him. The relief that he's here, that he made it back feels disloyal to Teal'c but she can't help it.
/\/
She wonders if it's the same for him. If he can't help himself. Sure, he's always there. But he's there when SG2 come back under heavy fire. When SG9 tumble through the event horizon and down the ramp he's in the control from, watching.
There are moments she knows he's just as compelled as she. He bursts through the door as they're about to slide the needle into her skin and he's just as cavalier as ever, but his hand comes to rest on her leg, his fingers tightening convulsively as they keep their words light.
He almost didn't make it in time and she can see he knows it.
/\/
When he stumbles through the gate from the alpha site he's alone and she feels guilty that they didn't go to meet him. Logically she knows there wasn't time, that there was no need for SG1 to be on hand at the alpha site waiting for him. He made it out of Baal's fortress, he could make it the last few million light years home.
But he doesn't look like himself. He's out of uniform, the one they sent with him seemingly left behind at the Tok'ra base. From the control room, she sees the clothes he's wearing are torn, bloody. But he's as upright as ever as he stands at the base of the ramp, taking in the gateroom in a gestalten flicker he's rarely performed so obviously.
The general greets him and he says something glib in response, but as he turns to leave the gateroom with the medical team he glances up at the control room, sees her watching. For the first time in forever, there's no guard in his eyes. What she sees hurts more than his anger could.
He's drained, his eyes dull with exhaustion and he looks at her like he barely knows her for a moment before his eyes flash hurt and relief, packaged together in a way she doesn't want to examine.
Later she finds out he makes it all the way to the infirmary before collapsing. She wonders at the strength of will that must have taken, then remembers he once crawled to safety with multiple broken bones and a skull fracture, because he needed to get home to his wife. It's madness to wonder what brought him home this time so she doesn't let herself do it.
She sees him briefly while he's too sedated for the sarcophagus withdrawal to make its presence truly felt. While he sleeps she watches him a while, knowing Janet will keep her secret.
/\/
It feels like everyone knows. Harriman leaves a space for her in the control room.
Janet lets her linger in the infirmary longer than she should, keeping her staff busy elsewhere while she forces her cheery words on him, using them to force space between them even as she's unable to leave him alone.
Perhaps more worryingly, General Hammond gives her far too much space, seeming to sense there's nothing he can do when that feeling of loss descends.
In the humidity of the cells, Teal'c turns away to keep watch while she rests her head against his shoulder, her exhaustion letting her forget she shouldn't be doing this, his fear making him allow it.
He must have really been afraid, she thinks later. To have swept her up into his arms and carried her to Nirrti himself he must have been absolutely terrified.
/\/
The Tok'ra let her out of the ship first, Teal'c and Jonas following close behind as she meets him halfway. He's lost weight, she sees, taking in the bagginess of his BDUs and the stiffness in his leg as he walks towards her. Later she'll learn how he got hurt and her guilt over letting Maybourne get her zat will make her apologise.
He'll wave it off. He always does.
For now, she simply sweeps her eyes over him, catching him doing the same with her. He makes a joke about how long it's taken them to find him and she finds she can't respond in kind, not this time.
Teal'c comes to her rescue, grabbing his arm in greeting. Jonas too, directing their attention to the prone figure of Colonel Maybourne on the ground behind him.
She finds she can't stop looking at him during the flight to the gate. She watches him talk quietly with their Tok'ra pilot before heading out of the ship, leaving Maybourne behind. While Jonas dials home she asks and he tells her what he's done. When she asks him if he'll get into trouble over it he shrugs as if he doesn't care, as if it doesn't matter that Maybourne is the reason she'd almost lost him.
/\/
He's at the base of the ramp when she brings her makeshift team back from Anubis' base. Daniel is beside him on crutches and that worries her until her quick appraisal tells her he himself is unharmed.
His eyes widen slightly at Teal'c's binding and her sling but he doesn't address it, waiting until the others have turned to leave before stopping her.
Eyes lock and she finds herself smiling at the moment, a bookend to the last time she saw him in her lab when he told her he was going after Daniel. She'd understood why, was glad it was him, but the luck they wished one another felt like something else entirely and she's not sure how much longer she can do this.
/\/
When he confirms the kill she allows herself to relax against the fallen tree. He asks if she's ready to move and she's not. She can't quite summon the energy to be Major Carter at this point.
If he and Teal'c hadn't arrived when they did she'd be dead. It's a fact as immutable as gravity and she can't bring herself to soldier on just yet. She can feel him watching her a moment before he sinks down beside her, calling her into his side and dropping his arm around her shoulders.
Somewhere beneath her exhaustion, she's surprised at his action. She'd thought this was a thing of the past now, that her involvement with Pete meant she'd lost this forever because in the face of the lack of a future she'd given him up rather than lose him and she knows he knows.
But he holds her anyway, his head dropping to hers as they sit in silence. It doesn't escape her notice that he doesn't pull her close, doesn't speak in the long minutes they sit together, Teal'c discreetly standing guard.
/\/
In the infinite seconds it takes him to fall the battle around her is silenced. She breaks cover, going against everything she knew before she met him and everything he's taught her since to get to him. The moment she allows herself is brief. She calls for a medic, barely registering Daniel's voice as he does the same.
It's not until she's in the seclusion of her lab that she realises the cap in her hand isn't her own.
When Janet dies and he lives she feels treacherously as though their lives have been exchanged on her behalf simply because in the moment he fell she felt like she was falling too. It doesn't make sense for the doctor to be dead when she's supposed to be safe on the base, for him to live when he's almost constantly in harm's way. When he purposefully puts himself there.
There's no relief she can feel without being winded by guilt, but she allows herself to seek him out when she finds out he's leaving the base. She's just checking on him, as Daniel and Teal'c have already. She knows quite a few base personnel looked in on him while he was unconscious in recovery, reassuring themselves SG1's leader was still whole.
She would have done the same but she didn't trust herself in front of an audience, and seeing him lying there unconscious won't drive out the image of him hitting the ground on 666. So here she is, just saying hi before she goes home to Cassie and Daniel comes to drive him home.
He's in a private room and it's not until she's standing there with the door closed behind her that she remembers why they don't do this. She holds herself back, watching him pull his t-shirt on, then his BDU shirt.
She can't stop herself telling him what brought her here, but it comes out strangled as she tries and fails to keep it in, to keep the words away from him.
She wants to be a better soldier for him, a better girlfriend to Pete. She wants to distance herself as she knows she should, but when he's not a magnet he's a black hole and she only breaks the laws of physics to save him, not herself so when he calls her she goes willingly, immediately, colliding with him in a way she shouldn't as she digs her fingers into his back, holding him closer than is allowed so she can feel his breath against her neck when he drops his face to the place where it meets her shoulder.
/\/
After he leaves the base it doesn't make sense for the rest of them to stay so she leaves too, making her way topside without saying goodbye to the rest of her team.
Thankfully her house is empty and she moves through it without turning on the lights. She finds herself avoiding her own gaze in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, her eyes remaining resolutely on the sink.
She doesn't go to bed, knowing it would be pointless. Instead, she sits in her living room, her eyes staring blankly at nothing.
The sun comes up and she's already dressed, car keys in hand. She runs her weekend errands, knowing where she's headed but still unsure how to make this step.
When he answers the door she gives him her bravest face, feeling it drain when she takes in his sleep dishevelled appearance. Despite her fears, he invites her in and she feels the underlying charge between them increase as he shuts the front door.
Sitting beside him, she allows her frustration to show but he doesn't rise to it, instead choosing to remind her that what they're doing - what he's done - will be worth it if it pays off. His meaning is clear and it hurts her to hear it. This is the culmination of everything that kept them apart and it's worth it if it works out, never mind if she loses him in the process.
She's poised to argue the point when Daniel knocks at the door and she's never been more torn between relief and frustration.
/\/
She's lost him, she thinks absurdly. Not the way she - and most likely he - always thought she would. He's alive, she's alive. But she's finally made it here and he's not alone.
She realises how selfish that is. She's not been alone in over a year, she's getting married in a week, why should he be alone?
She should have known better than to trust her own conjured version of him. In all the years she's known him, he's proven hard to predict again and again. Before she knew him, even.
How many officers would have dared what he did after the first Abydos mission? How many would have recommended Teal'c for SG1 just seconds after their CO met the former hostile?
She's too late. It's an unfamiliar feeling. Usually she makes it, saving him and everyone else in the nick of time. But he doesn't need saving, she sees.
She's relieved when her phone rings, then horrified at that relief when the message is relayed.
The observation room is blissfully quiet as she watches her father say his goodbyes. She feels him enter the room before he sits down next to her and barely acknowledges the separate layer of grief that makes her feel, that she's still drawn to him is torture. But today is the day she loses her father, her fiancé and him and only the former of those can take precedence.
She speaks softly to him because it isn't his fault. She did this to them and it doesn't matter that it was the right thing to do. He calls her to him again and she barely thinks about where they are, about the cameras and personnel everywhere because she thinks it doesn't matter anymore, she's technically still engaged and now that he's lost to her, any sense of an offence to propriety is nullified. She goes, taking his hand because she's tired and hurting and she needs to.
She's surprised at the tone in his voice when he turns to her, like he's explaining something she should have known. Like it's obvious.
/\/
He's leaving. She suddenly feels as though there's no air in the cabin so she congratulates him on his promotion and heads outside, leaving him to answer Daniel and Teal'c's questions.
When he follows her she finds she can't look at him, keeping her eyes on the water instead. She hears him shift, leaning down on the fence in a mirror of her own pose. She lets herself watch his hands as he clasps them together in front of himself.
When his right hand breaks away and takes her left she automatically tries not to flinch away from the contact before realising her instinct is to tighten her fingers on his convulsively. Too late to stop herself, she locks their fingers together, threading hers through his in a way she shouldn't. She watches their hands a moment, then looks up to see he's watching her, his eyes impossible to read in the light spilling out of the house.
She's losing him again, but the despair she usually feels in moments like these is conspicuously absent, she realises. She misses it a little. It's like a part of her, a weight in her chest for almost as long as she's known him.
He straightens, drawing up to his full height and looking down at her with something approaching amusement crossing his features before it's gone, replaced by concern.
As though he can read her mind he tells her she's not losing him, there's a window of opportunity here they can hold open. If she wants to.
While he's talking she realises she doesn't have the words for this any more than he does. That when she went to him after Pete showed her the house she was hoping the words would arrive and some had - words about pretending and hiding and quashing. Words about timing and fear and I do, do you? I always have, have you?
But they're bad words, she can see that now. She's losing him but not losing him and it's not new, this feeling, just the inverse of the norm and over the last eight years surely they've said everything they needed to say about this?
She realises he's stopped speaking and she's not said a word of what she's thinking out loud and steps forward, colliding with him in a way that for once has nothing to do with his personal brand of gravity and everything to do with the fact that she's tired of falling.
He catches her, like he always has, but not like always, too. Suddenly this is different and perfect and so close to being allowed that she can't bring herself to care that it isn't. As she kisses him she thinks about how she nearly lost him - so many times - and how he nearly lost her and it seems incredibly unlikely that they're here, finally.
They break apart for air and she pushes him back into the fence, using his own pull against him as she finally lets go and falls into place.