Thank you so much to everyone for the reviews and following along. Sorry this one took so long – was actually done a few weeks ago but got caught up in moving house and other things, so it fell by the wayside!
Chapter Three
The corridors of the SGC are quiet this late at night, but not deserted. Sam's not sure what prompts her to go past Daniel's lab, but the door is open and lights are on. She peers in and sees him sitting at his desk, sorting some equipment in front of him.
"Hey," she says from the doorway, hesitant to disturb him but suddenly desperate for company.
"Sam." He smiles up at her. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I could ask you the same question," she points out, taking his greeting as an invitation.
"Oh, I'm always up too late," he says casually as he reaches over for a worn pack and opens it.
She watches as he rifles through the pack. When he's done, he adds a soft leather pouch of brushes, then a worn journal and a small packet of Kleenex.
"Can't sleep?" he asks as he zips a camcorder into a side pocket.
She shrugs, not wanting to admit that as excited as she is, she's also terrified. The closer the clock gets to departure time, the more tightly she's feeling wound.
"I was so excited and so nervous about the first mission to Abydos that I didn't sleep at all the night before," Daniel says when she doesn't answer. "I was terrified I'd make a mistake, or not be able to get us home."
"What about the danger of the unknown?" Sam asks, fascinated by his confession.
"Oh, that was a concern too, but we really had no idea what we were heading into, and the unknown can be a lot less terrifying than the known."
His words carry an element of truth, but Sam is still petrified of the unknown.
Maybe it's the lateness of the hour, or maybe it's because it's Daniel who has shown her only kindness and support, but she finds herself confiding in him.
"I'm worried that I…"
"That you what?" he asks, voice gentle.
"I'm a scientist. I'm not a soldier, and I'm not brave," Sam confesses.
"And you're worried about how you're going to react," he interprets.
She nods silently, shame at her fears and inadequacies so familiar she hardly notices the weight of the emotions.
"Well," he says, considering. "It's hard to know what you're capable of, until you're put in a situation where you are forced to find out."
She has many, many memories of situations reminding her of her weakness and inability to fight back.
"You did great a few weeks ago," he says, unaware of her dark thoughts. "Jack and General Hammond wouldn't let you go off-world if they didn't feel it was a good idea," he adds. "Being military has nothing to do with it. Lots of civilians go off world, even Catherine's been off-world."
"I just… I guess I don't really understand why suddenly I'm going on a mission," Sam confesses to him. "I'm not really serving any purpose. I'm just going as an observer, someone to be babysat."
"Maybe this is a way of seeing how you handle it," Daniel says simply. "You're the expert on the Stargate, and your ability to understand some of the alien technology we've found so far is exceptional. Maybe this is a way of seeing if in the future you could go on more missions and put those skills to good use."
She hadn't considered the mission from that angle.
"So you don't think… you don't think this a waste of time, and just Jack being nice?" she asks.
"Sam, Jack wouldn't do that," he says simply. "If Jack thinks you should go on this mission, then strategically, he'd have very good reasons. Particularly if General Hammond signed off on it."
"You're right," she says, feeling like an idiot.
Daniel reaches over and grabs her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's going to be fine, Sam," Daniel says. "You're going to love it."
She smiles at him. When he puts his pack away and ushers her out of his lab, she finds she's ready to go to bed, settled after the quiet conversation.
When she gets back into the small bed in the cramped base quarters, her toes curl with excitement and she lets herself smile in the dark.
Tomorrow, she's going through the Stargate.
She can't keep the grin off her face, even if she does feel a bit let down that the planet she's currently standing on could very easily be mistaken for Earth; it doesn't look at all alien.
"So how was travelling by wormhole?" Jack asks, curving the rim of his baseball cap and scrutinising it carefully before fitting it back on his head.
"Amazing," she says, still smiling. "It was incredible. I've read so many reports and spoken to so many people, but it's almost impossible to describe it, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's incredible," he says, and she feels that jolt somewhere inside again at the sight of him smiling at her, dressed in his combat gear with his gun across his hips and standing there as though he isn't afraid of anything.
"I'm surprised someone from SG-7 isn't here to meet us," Tobias comments, looking around.
"Let's go find them," Jack says, waving at Tobias to take the lead. He falls into step beside Sam, and they walk in silence for a short way.
Sam's trying to look at everything at once, drinking in the golden fields and greenery around them, the soft blue sky, sunshine, and visage of a small town in the distance. It's familiar and different all at once.
"It's hard to believe we're on a different planet," she comments. "It looks so much like Earth."
"That's likely because—" Daniel starts to explain, but Sam never gets to hear what his theory is because Tobias let's out a warning call, and Sam catches sight of a still figure lying by the side of the road.
It's not how she thought the mission would go. Meeting an alien people and watching the singularity had seemed pretty exciting, but instead here they are exposed to a horrific, fast acting plague that has them donning biohazard suits and finding a story of death everywhere they go.
She's sitting on a small bunk in the barracks, with her knees tucked up under her chin, trying to wipe the images of the dead soldiers and villagers from her mind.
"This complex is fully decontaminated, Colonel, and so far everyone on your team seems clear of whatever this disease is." Janet announces as she re-enters the general common room where SG-1 and Sam have gathered.
"I don't understand why they didn't send any warning that this was happening," Daniel says.
"I think it happened so quickly, they didn't get a chance," Tobias says. "People look like they dropped in the middle of what they were doing."
Sam tries not to wince at the words, but Janet must see her discomfort.
"How are you doing, Sam?" Janet asks quietly.
"Okay," Sam lies, pressing her forehead against her knees. "I'm just… I wasn't expecting this."
"We should do a thorough search for survivors or information about exactly what took place here. If Doctor Carter is cleared, Doc, can we spare one of your people to escort her back to the gate?"
"I'd like to stay, please."
"You would?"
She swallows roughly, her mouth feeling dry. "I have a minor in biochemistry and biotechnology. I could help work out what happened here."
Jack considers her, questioning her silently with his eyes. She looks back resolutely, relieved and terrified all at once when he nods briefly.
"Colonel," Tobias says, hesitant but determined. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"
Tobias' words summon an awkward sort of tension, as though all the occupants in the room become still and focus on the lieutenant and her superior officer.
"You're going to have to be more specific than that, Lieutenant."
"Well, Doctor Carter is a civilian, sir, and the scope of the mission has changed dramatically. Are you sure it's safe for a civilian to stay? What if things escalate?"
"Um, I'm a civilian," Daniel points out, butting into the conversation.
"Yes, but you're a member of our team, Daniel. You're used to these situations. Doctor Carter isn't. We don't know anything about what's happened here."
"That's fair," Jack agrees with a sigh.
Something in Sam rebels at the idea of being packed up and sent home to be kept safe while the rest of these people are out here in the unknown.
"Please, Jack, I can help. I want to help."
She's putting him in a difficult position, she can see that, but she's desperate to stay now that she's here. For a moment she thinks he will refuse her, indecision warring in his eyes, but then he sighs, and she knows she's won.
"Gear up," he orders his team. He puts a hand on Sam's arm to stop her following SG-1 to the airlock where the HAZMAT suits are. His voice is low, earnest when he speaks. "None of us will think any less of you if you went back home now; this was not a part of the mission, and it's not something we expect you to do."
Except Sam would think less of herself. It would just be one more cowardly moment to add to the list, and she's determined to change. To be brave. "No," she says with a quiet conviction. "I can help here. I could be useful. I accept the risk, Jack. Please, let me help."
He's quiet as he considers her words, and she wonders what he is thinking as he looks at her, face expressionless. In the end, he dips his head again in confirmation. "Okay, you're with me. But if the situation changes, and I need you to get back to Earth, we're not arguing about it."
"Thank you," she says simply.
"Let's go."
In the end Sam returns to Earth before the singularity occurs, when the young girl who later identifies herself as Cassandra seems to bond with her in a way she hasn't with anyone else. Sam is a little confused, and at the same time quite flattered by the desperation with which Cassandra clings to her. She hasn't had a lot to do with children, and is usually awkward around them, but Cassandra doesn't seem to need her to do anything other than just be there.
The more time she spends with Cassandra over the next two days—holding her, talking with her, drawing with her—the more she feels something inside her start to blossom. She's never had someone need her in this way before, or depend on her quite so much. The feeling is awe-inspiring and terrifying, because she's horribly afraid of not being able to live up to Cassandra's expectations.
By the time they realise Cassandra is on borrowed time, Sam is head over heels in love with her and shattering on the inside at the thought of losing her.
It's why she refuses to let go of Cassandra on the bumpy, desperate drive to the abandoned nuclear facility, clutching the unconscious girl close and savoring the clean scent of her hair. It's why when Jack tries to take Cassandra, she refuses to let him, and insists on taking Cassandra down herself while he accompanies them on the long, clanking ride down the shaft in the little cart that creaks and rocks.
And it's why when Cassandra wakes up, Sam is unable to speak. She hugs her close and buries her head in the long red tresses, not looking at Jack when she tells him she won't leave Cassandra. He tries ordering her, but she ignores him, holding onto Cassandra who is wriggling and pulling away from Sam, asking where they are and what's wrong.
Sam hears the large metal door clang shut, locking herself and Cassandra in the small room. With the quiet around them, a sense of peace settles over her, and she holds Cassandra, telling her it's going to be okay.
"I hope you know what you're doing." She's surprised to see Jack beside them, lowering himself to the ground—she thought he had left. She shouldn't be surprised, she thinks; his sense of duty wouldn't allow him to let her do this on her own.
"What are you still doing here?" Sam asks, finally finding her voice.
"What are you still doing here?" he returns evenly, meeting her gaze as his shoulder presses against hers.
"I can't leave her," Sam whispers.
"Why are you crying, Sam?" Cassandra asks.
"Am I?"
She didn't realise she was crying until Cassandra pointed it out, but now she can feel the heat of the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. She's crying for the life Cassandra lost, and the new life she won't get to live. She's crying for herself and the dreams she never got to chase. And she's crying for Jack, because duty wouldn't let him leave her behind; she's essentially sentenced him to death.
"It's okay," Jack says gruffly, maybe reading her mind. "C'mere."
He slips an arm around her shoulders, and she leans against him as best she can with Cassandra still cuddled up against her, breathing in the scent of him that's been teasing her for days. She wonders if maybe things were different she might find some courage and not run away each time he creeps a little closer.
"How long?" she whispers.
"Not long."
She sighs against him, hugging Cassandra close and closing her eyes, waiting for the end.
His fingers are in her hair now, rubbing the back of her neck and scalp, and it feels as though her nerve endings on are on fire with his touch, and he drops his cheek against her hair. They sit like that for long moments, until her neck starts to complain and she shifts against him.
"Jack?" Surely by now it should have happened already?
He checks his wrist watch awkwardly around her. "Almost three minutes ago," he says, brow furrowed with confusion. "You and Fraiser definitely got the timing right?"
"Yes." Sam may not be sure about a lot of things in her life, but her math is one thing she's never doubted.
"Then…?"
"I don't know. According to Janet, she should never have regained consciousness."
"I'll call the surface and let them know our status. We'll wait another ten minutes to be sure."
Sam doesn't want to hope, in case they're wrong, but maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.
The small room Janet's staff have set up for Cassandra is tucked away from the main hustle of the surrounding wards. Muted pink and yellow linen, and a smattering of soft toys don't do much to lessen the blandness of the room, but Sam appreciates that someone (she suspects Janet) went to the effort to try and make this lost little girl feel more comfortable—the Air Force Academy Hospital is not really set up to look after children.
Cassandra is tangled in her bedding, fast asleep. Sam runs a gentle hand over her hair and pushes a stray lock behind her ear. Watching the child sleep, Sam feels an ache for something she didn't know she was missing. The sense of purpose she'd felt when holding Cassandra in her arms earlier today had been overwhelming, along with the utter terror at the thought of something happening to her.
She's trying to sort through her emotions, to work out how she can be feeling so much and yet not know what she is feeling, purely because of this child.
"Sam?" Janet whispers from the door, beckoning to her.
She looks at Cassandra one more time before getting to her feet and following Janet out of the room.
"How're you doing?" Janet asks.
"Okay," Sam says. "Cassandra's sleeping now, she's not so restless anymore."
"Good," Janet says. "Want to take a walk?"
Sam hesitates, glancing back at the room where Cassandra is sleeping.
"She's not going to wake up for a long time, Sam, the sedative we gave her will let her have a good night's sleep, which is what she needs tonight. The nursing staff will keep an eye on her."
Sam's not thrilled at the idea, but nods her head, accepting that Janet means to have this conversation with her.
"Come on," Janet says, hooking her hand around Sam's elbow and guiding her down the hallway. "I've officially finished for the night, so we can go get some fresh air."
As with all Air Force installations, the grounds of the hospital are immaculately kept, with picnic tables and benches strategically scattered for recovering patients and their families to enjoy the sunshine.
"I wanted to talk to you about Cassandra," Janet says as they meander along a footpath in the twilight.
"Is this about what's going to happen to her?"
"Yes. It's going to be difficult to find a home for her through usual adoption and fostering avenues, given the problems with security clearance and nature of the program."
Sam sits down on a bench, and Janet joins her. "What are the options for her then?"
It feels so callous to discuss Cassandra's future this way, without asking her what she wants.
"Ideally, someone from the SGC would take her so they can have full disclosure."
"So who have they chosen?"
"No one definite yet," Janet says.
"But?"
Janet sighs, and turns away from Sam, looking across the shadowy grounds stretching before them. "General Hammond approached me," she says eventually.
Betrayal is a sharp, burning ache in the center of her chest. "You?"
"I'm not on a front line team, and my work hours are fairly consistent."
There's a tightness around Sam's throat, a difficulty to breathe and speak.
"Sam?"
"What about me?" she asks, ashamed to hear her voice breaking.
Janet lays a gentle, cautious hand on Sam's shoulder. "Because of the level of classification of the program and risk to national security, they want to keep her with someone in the Air Force."
"So I wouldn't have had a chance anyway?"
"Sam, if this is something you really want, we can approach General Hammond to have this discussion. I wanted to talk to you first, because I know how much you care about Cassandra, but I wasn't sure if this was something you actually wanted."
The instinct is to affirm to Janet that this is definitely something she wants. How could she not want Cassandra? That sense of purpose she got with Cassandra, and the sensation of completeness, how could she not want that?
But, Sam thinks as she sits back, it really isn't about what she wants. It's about what is best for Cassandra.
"I didn't know you wanted children," Sam says eventually.
To her surprise, Janet gives her a half-smile, almost hidden in the dim light around them. "I always wanted children. A whole houseful of children."
"Then why…?"
Janet's voice is more vulnerable than Sam's ever heard it before. "I can't have children, Sam. Not physically. So this… this is a surprising, and unexpected, but a very much wanted opportunity for me. I really want this, Sam."
Sam really, really likes Cassandra, and there is a selfish part of her that loves the way Cassandra makes her feel. The adoration in her eyes, the need to be close to Sam - it fulfills her and gives her a sense of purpose and validation in a way that nothing else has for a long, long time. But it's not about Sam's sense of validation and selfish desire for adoration, it's about a little girl needing a parent, and a parent who doesn't have a child.
If she's honest with herself, Sam doesn't think she's ready to be, or cut out to be, a parent. She hasn't even found herself yet, in the mess that is her life, so how could she possibly drag a little girl into her chaos and uncertainty?
"I think you'd be perfect for Cassandra," Sam says, hoping she sounds positive and happy for her friend.
"Are you sure, Sam?"
Sam nods, because it's too difficult to speak.
Janet touches her hand with her own. "I mean it, Sam, if you want this, I won't force it, or fight you because I know that Cassandra's attached to you. I don't want to cause her any more distress or emotional upheaval than we need too."
"I'm not ready for children," Sam says, trying to smile at Janet.
"No one's ever ready for children," Janet says sagely.
"Maybe," Sam concedes. "But I'm not in a good place personally to have a child right now. I need to work out exactly who I am first, and find my own feet."
"You're going to be fine, Sam," Janet says encouragingly, squeezing her hand. "Trust me, you'll be fine."
Sam shoots a glance at Janet, and finds understanding and empathy in her eyes, and not an ounce of pity or judgement.
"How do you know?"
"I've been close to where you were," Janet confesses. "An abusive relationship in any form takes it toll, and you're doing all the right things to recover from it and move forward."
Sam's insides feel like ice at Janet's words. "Who told you?"
"No one," Janet says. "I did your pre-mission physical, Sam. You have significant injuries and trauma in your records which are not difficult to interpret."
She doesn't like that Janet knows. That anyone knows about her weakness and failure and poor judgement.
"My ex-husband tried to get physical with me after years of mental and verbal abuse," Janet says when the silence between them grows. "I let him hit me twice. The third time he hit me I broke his jaw, and we got a divorce."
"You left him before he hurt you too badly," Sam points out, as though Janet's story is different from hers.
"And you left before he killed you," Janet returns gently.
"Not soon enough though," Sam says.
"Oh Sam," Janet sighs. "If it was easy to leave, domestic violence wouldn't be what it is. You got out. You're here, alive, and learning how to defend yourself. You're going to look in the mirror one day and realise you can stop searching because you've already found yourself, and then you'll be able to forgive yourself for something that wasn't your fault."
"I know it wasn't my fault that he did what he did. It was my fault for not leaving sooner, even when I knew things were bad. It was my fault for believing I could be enough to change him. To save him."
"Did you?"
"No. Nowhere close. He died a few months ago. Went completely crazy before died, and other people died as a result. I blame myself for not pressing charges, because I think I knew he had that possibility inside him, but I was so scared."
"And you were worried that people wouldn't believe you."
"Yes, but-"
"Sam, you can't blame yourself. You were the victim of abuse, and none of his actions are your fault. Your job was to get out and get safe, and you did that."
She's quiet for a long time, thinking about Janet's words. "I just feel so lost, Janet. I constantly doubt myself and my decisions about everything because I've obviously made some very bad choices in the past. Sometimes I think I'm doing okay and then something innocuous happens and I panic. I had all these dreams when I was younger, and now I have no idea where I'm heading with my career or my life because I just sort of fell into the Stargate assignment by accident, and I'm still a bit confused about why they keep me around sometimes."
She's never confessed so many of her fears and doubts to anyone before, and they hang in the air between them, solid and real and heavy.
"Why do you worry about your position at the SGC?" Janet asks.
"I was working for the Pentagon originally, in a private research capacity," Sam explains. "I was consulting for Catherine Langford, and she offered me a position when she heard my fiance was being transferred here."
"Was he military?"
"Air Force," Sam admits.
"You think it was a coincidence, Sam?"
"What do you mean?"
"That you just happened to be offered the position at the SGC because your fiance was transferred Colorado Springs?"
Sam shrugs. "It was always about Jonas and his transfers. I just followed where he was sent, and he was sent to do something at the Academy here initially. I got lucky and offered a job with the Stargate program when we moved here. Then Jonas was given orders to transfer to Florida a while after the Stargate program was shut down, but Catherine wanted me to stay and continue working with her. That's when things really got bad."
Janet's quiet for a while. "You're invaluable to the program, Sam. You should know that. Look at how you went right out of your comfort zone a few weeks ago when there was a threat we needed to deal with. And now you're training with Teal'c and going on missions. I know you don't see it at the moment, but things are going to get better for you. They already are."
Sam shrugs, still reluctant to believe the words despite knowing they make sense.
"Have you seen a counselor, Sam?"
"I tried for a while, but it wasn't really helping."
"Well, you can talk to me whenever you want," Janet offers, surprising Sam by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle half hug. "But I also think we should you find you a counselor that works for you. They're worth their weight in gold – they helped me recover a lot faster than if I'd tried to do it on my own."
"Thanks, Janet. For listening."
"That's what friends are for, Sam," Janet smiles as they pull themselves back to their feet.
They're almost back at the hospital entrance when Sam says, "I think you'll be an amazing mother. Cassie is lucky to have you."
The strength of Janet's arms and fingers digging into her back as she pulls Sam in for a hug speak volumes about the depth of yearning and desperation she feels about adopting Cassandra. "Thank you, Sam," she whispers, still holding tight. "Thank you."
He's waiting for her in the hall outside Cassandra's room, positioned so that he can just make out the shadow in the bed where Cassandra lies sleeping. When Doctor Fraiser and Sam return from their walk, Sam looks exhausted.
"Colonel," Doctor Fraiser says, offering him a smile. "What can we do for you, sir?"
"Nothing," he says, smiling at her. "Daniel noticed Sam's car was still at the SGC when we left, so we figured she must need a ride to dinner."
"Dinner?" Sam asks, confused.
"We usually go out for a beer or a meal after a mission," Jack says easily.
Sam frowns at him. "But we got back a few days ago."
"Mission only really finished today," he says. "Well, satisfactorily resolved anyway."
"Oh," Sam says. "I'm not a part of your team though."
Yes, he remembers those words that Tobias threw around on Hanka. "You were for this mission," he says. "The others are expecting you."
She looks half-convinced.
"Doctor Fraiser, you should join us too. You were pretty heavily involved in this one."
"Thank you, Colonel, I'd love too, but I'm going to stay here tonight. You should go, Sam. Go have some fun, with some good people."
He's curious about the look that Fraiser and Sam exchange, a hidden depth of communication he's not privy to. Sam seems to understand whatever Fraiser is saying, and nods at her before looking back at Jack.
"If you're sure everyone wants me there," she says.
"I'm sure," Jack says.
"Okay. I'll just get my purse."
She slips into Cassie's room quietly, a shadow in the dim room. He feels like a voyeur watching as she hesitates beside Cassie's bed, and then leans down to press a kiss against her head before they say quiet goodbyes to Fraiser and head to his truck.
On the walk to the car, she's tense and quiet, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
"What's wrong?" he asks when they're on their way, and the silence has continued on for too long.
Her fingers trace invisible patterns on the purse resting on her lap. "Janet's going to adopt Cassie," she says.
"I know," he says. "Are you okay with that?"
"Yes."
He stays silent, focusing on the road.
"Okay, no, I'm not sure how I feel about it."
He flicks on the indicator, makes a show of checking the oncoming traffic before turning across the intersection. He winds his window down, spilling fresh air into the cab.
"Janet's going to be a great mother," Sam continues after taking a deep breath. "She's so desperate to have a child that she would do anything for Cassie already."
He hears the unvoiced belief in Sam's words making it clear she sees herself as a poor second in Janet's place. He wonders what exactly had happened to this woman, and who was responsible for filling her with so much self-doubt.
"What about you?" he asks finally.
"What about me?"
"Why wouldn't you be a great mother?"
She stiffens, the insult and personal nature of the question setting her on edge, before she relaxes back into the seat and sighs. "I'm not ready," she says finally. "I know that I'm nowhere near ready to be a parent."
"No one is ever ready to be a parent," Jack says gruffly, stamping on his own inadequacies and memories.
He can almost hear the wheels churning in her head, the way the direction of her thought swings around to focus on his own failure of parenthood, feels the inevitable conversation coming at him like a tidal wave.
"You had a son," she says quietly.
The pain is as sharp and deep and fresh as always. "Yes, I did."
"I'm sorry you lost him," she says sincerely, a warm hand brushing against his. He catches her fingers with his, and she squeezes his hand gently. He hangs on desperately, letting the cool air of the evening splinter in his lungs and trying to breathe out the yawning ache that is threatening to engulf him.
When he can focus again, the lights of O'Malley's are visible ahead of them and their fingers are still tangled together. "I miss him," he finds himself saying, fingers clenching against hers.
By the time he stops the car in the lot he's had to let go of her fingers, but the pressure in his chest has eased and he feels like he can swallow again.
"Hungry?" he asks.
"Starving," she says with a smile, touching the back of his hand on the gear shift briefly.
As they walk across the parking lot towards the entrance, he tries not to notice how cool the air is against his skin where moments ago her fingers had rested, soft and warm.
Would love to hear any thoughts or comments you have on the story so far! Thank you :)