Disclaimer: I do not own SG1. Although it would not be a bad idea… If I could, that is.
A/N: You know your job guys. Review, please.
Till the end of the time
Chapter 1
"Carter?" Colonel Jack O'Neill repeat for the fourth time, this time a bit louder, while jabbing his finger at the bell, but nothing happened. Doors remained shut.
"Come on, Major, now is not the time to play hide and seek! General Hammond wants to see us, and as you so conveniently switched off your phone..." It took him a second or two to realize he was talking to the Major's door. He was starting to get worried.
"Sam! Open up, I know you are in there, your car is parked in front..." he was almost yelling. 'What the hell was wrong? She wasn't usually like this.'
Partially because neighbors were starting to peak through their spy holes and partially because that sickening feeling in his stomach that seemed to appear every time something was wrong would not go away, he lowered his hand on the door handle and slightly pushed.
Doors gave a small squeak, but obediently opened reveling thrashed hallway. His heart skipped a beat, as his eyes traveled over the broken glass table.
"Samantha!" Similar site greeted him in the living room. Lots of shattered glass and broken furniture lay all over the place. Whoever did this, surely gave a hell of a fight.
"Sam!" Jack's voice seemed to echo of the walls and return to him, bringing him more of this unpleasant silence.
'Please God, just let her be all right...' his mind was screaming.
He scanned through the whole apartment, but there was no sign of her. Once he thought he saw blood stain on the piece of broken glass, but dismissed as impossible... He didn't even to think about it.' Sam is a soldier. She could take care of herself...'
That was when he caught a glimpse of the white fabric behind the half opened door he hadn't noticed before. In one gigantic leap Jack was at the door.
She was there. Major Samantha Carter was lying curled in the fetal position, small pool of blood beneath her, coloring in red white ceramic squares of the floor. Colonel O'Neill held his breath, as he knelt beside her. Carefully, he griped her shoulder and turned her around. She was wearing white bathrobes, smeared in blood, but they weren't tied, exposing all of her torso and stomach. Pain clouded his mind, as he noticed large gash on her stomach, which was still trickling blood. Ever so lightly, Jack pressed his fingers on her neck. Her skin was cold, but that was not the reason why his hands shook as he struggled to find any sing of life in his 2IC. 'Please, God... please...'
Weak, very weak beating sensation crossed the tips of his fingers. She was alive. In one swift move, he took his jacket off and pressed it against her wounds. Injury was serious and deep. He pressed harder, silently praying, no, pleading with God to let her live... 'Let her live, no matter what...'
"Come on, Sam, hold on. I know you can do it... Just hold on." But his voice came out as a choke, as the tears stuck in his throat, preventing him to say anything else.
God there was so much he wanted to tell her. So much, but now, he may not have a chance... Ever.
Shaking those thoughts away, he gently picked up her body and moved to the living room. Lowering her on the sofa, he run to the phone.
No signal. Lines have been cut. Cursing under his breath, Jack began looking for her bag. Carter always carried a cell phone in her bag.
After few minutes spent in panicked search, he finally found the phone under one of the cupboards. It looked like someone kicked it there on purpose.
Glancing at Samantha's limp body, he dialed SGC.