Closure
The first time I watched the Zatarc episode (4th season, episode 5: Divide and Conquer), I was dumbfounded to see the story ending on Martouf's death. He was a wonderful character and such a good friend to Sam, it was very sad his life should end so abruptly. Most of all, he did not deserve to be remembered as a traitor. I don't know about you butI needed closure. Here's the epilogue.
Thank you to my beta for her amazing work.
Sam had remained sitting on the floor of the gateroom, Martouf's head on her lap, until Anise had come back from a quick debriefing with General Hammond and ordered the other Tok'ras to take the body, as the stargate started to whir into motion. She'd looked at them, dismayed, not wanting to understand that it was over, that it was time to let go, that she'd never see him ever again. They'd had to pry open her arms to take the body from her.
Then Daniel had lifted her from the floor and set her on her feet, gently steering her out of the room as the gate whooshed closed. He'd asked her if she wanted him to take her to the infirmary but she'd looked at him with vacant eyes and went on walking down the corridor, not once looking back, her shoulders hunched, and Daniel had understood the only thing she really needed at that precise moment was to be left alone.
He'd called the infirmary to talk with Janet and she'd agreed with him. "Let her have it her own way," she'd told him. "We know where she'll hide anyway. One of us will check on her in a couple of hours."
She couldn't remember how she'd reached her lab. She found herself at the door, her hand on the door handle, looking at the room in a daze. A couple of assistants were working on a project at a desk in the corner of the room. They lifted their heads and saw the strained look on the Major's face. She walked in, her feet pattering to the back of the room, and laid the palm of her hand on the bare wall in front of her, obviously not even aware of what she was doing. Their eyes locked for a second, worried, and in silent agreement, they left the room quietly. They'd never seen her like that, tears filling her eyes, looking distraught, in a state of shock.
The door closed and she let herself slide to the floor, her back to the wall, propping up her knees and wrapping her arms around them, her head bent, tears streaming freely from her wide blue eyes.
How could that be happening? How could he be dead? She'd always thought he'd be around. He was an anchor for her in her time with Jolinar, he was a good friend in the Tok'ra, he was even more than that, she had to admit. Whether it was her own feeling or Jolinar's lingering ones, she had retained deep tenderness for him, even after she'd acknowledged her love for her CO.
Now, he was gone and she would never have the chance to say goodbye to him. And the worse part of it was that she had seen him die, actually, she'd even been the one to kill him. Deep inside, her logical mind was telling her she hadn't had the choice, but it hurt like hell to relive the scene, looking at herself shooting at him – twice – in slow motion, as if from another person's point of view.
When it had happened, she'd not paused, she'd just reacted. He was going to kill the President, she knew it as a certainty, she needed to stop him. Even after she'd shot at him the first time, warning him, he'd still shown dogged determination. She had had no choice. But, still, it was nagging at her, the feeling of guilt returning over and over again, making her head throb with the headache that had started to build as the tears had begun falling.
Jack found her still there, in exactly the same position, an hour later. He'd been watching her for some time on the surveillance camera, in fact ever since he'd left the conference he and General Hammond had had with the President, just after Anise had departed.
It had not gone smoothly, to say the least. The President had shown deep concern that there'd been a major breach in the security of the base and that even the Tok'ra, who were full of themselves, had been fooled. He'd also shown very little concern for the man whom he had labeled as a traitor. That hadn't helped for what the Colonel had had on his mind since he'd left her sitting on the floor with the so-called traitor's head on her lap. But he was not the kind of man to back off or to take no for an answer. He had tabled his request, confident that if need be, he'd remind his superiors that his team had saved their ass's quite a number of times and they owed them quite a bit. That was the least they could do for them. Hammond had been appalled at the cheek of his leading team's CO, though he knew that if one thing could define Jack O'Neill, it was that he had never, ever learnt to keep his mouth shut... He should have seen it coming, for Christ's sake!
When he'd left the conference and joined the team, Hammond looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, he'd wanted to go and see her immediately but Daniel had launched into a long and boring diatribe on how it was best to leave people alone when they were so crushed, bla bla bla, whatever you say, Danny Boy, the words not reaching Jack's mind, and he was already heading towards the elevator when Teal'c had come to stand in front of him, a stern look on his face and had told him he should listen to Daniel Jackson, who was for once speaking words of wisdom. Both Jack and Daniel had been flabbergasted to hear the Jaffa take sides for once in such a personal matter and Jack had fisted his hands in exasperation, for crying out loud, couldn't he have his own way and who was the CO in that team! But deep inside, he'd confessed they might have a point so he'd waited a reasonable time (that is, for him) before deciding it was high time someone did something, that someone being preferably him.
He came to crouch in front of her, one hand on her knees, the other one cupping her chin and gently lifting it to meet her gaze. She looked at him as if he were not really there.
"Carter, what are you doing here, all alone?" he asked, giving her time to ponder her answer. She shrugged, a sad smile tugging at her mouth, her lips trembling, the smile never reaching her eyes. "I don't know, Sir. I guess it was the only place I thought of."
"Are you trying to avoid us, Carter? We're your friends, we're here for you, you know that, don't you?" he added, tracing with his thumbs the dark swollen circles that had appeared under her reddened eyes.
"I don't know, Sir," she repeated. "I just can't think straight, right now. My mind is in a blur. I keep telling myself this can't be happening... I have a splitting headache but I couldn't even find the strength to get up and grab some Tylenol from my desk drawer..."
He stood up, got a glass of water for her and the box of medicine from her desk, then knelt in front of her and handed them to her. She swallowed the tablet, handed him back the glass and put her forehead on her knees.
"Thank you, Sir," she whispered, a lump in her throat, feeling even worse from his presence there, in the room, beside her, knowing he couldn't possibly give her the comfort she so badly needed.
"Ok, Carter," he said, standing and holding his hand to her so she would stand up too. "Time to move. Get yourself geared up. We're going off-world in fifteen minutes." She looked up at him in dismay then forced herself to stand up and reply. "No, Sir," she stated, her eyes locking with his.
"No, Sir?" he repeated, feigning anger. "Who's the CO, here? Carter, you goddamn do as I say. Period."
Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't understand why he was being so harsh with her. Whatever the mission, it could wait. She wasn't feeling up to it, right now. She'd told him so. Had he even listened to a word she'd said? He averted his eyes, not wanting to see her cry, then he made his decision. He took a step closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Screw the surveillance cameras," he mumbled, anger flaring in his tense voice. "Carter," he whispered in her ear, his voice soft as velvet, "we're going off-world, you and I, with Daniel and Teal'c, so I won't have pissed off the President and the Tok'ra for nothing. They've agreed to let us come to Martouf's funeral and the President has, reluctantly, I may say," he added, wincing, "given us permission to go."
She looked up and her eyes met his. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she smiled brightly at him through her tears – that smile that always made him melt with tenderness for her – a smile full of gratitude and love. How could she have ever doubted him?
"Can I have a "yes, Sir", now, Carter?" he asked tentatively, lifting one eyebrow expectantly.
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, looking at him through her damp eyelashes, reluctantly untangling herself from his embrace. "Thank you, Sir." She straightened up and headed for the door, holding her head high.
