Chapter 9: A Lover's Duel

A/N: Hello again! Here is the next chapter in our little saga and we're actually wrapping things up now—(pretty sure I've said that every chapter). This is a huge chunk of information, I tried to be as thorough as possible so it might get "chewy" at times. Remaining questions will be answered in the epilogue! Anywho, I've got an

Important Question! A good friend of mine on here needs a beta reader and as I've never used one, I thought I'd ask you guys! Any volunteers or helpful hints? Thank you!

Enjoy!

"Teal'c, I'm glad to see you up and about." Hammond rose from his seat as the large man entered the room. He was surprised, but pleased to see that he appeared to be physically fine. You could never have guessed that less than six hours ago he was bleeding to death lightyears from home.

"Thank you, General Hammond. The tretonin is working well." He bowed his head slightly as he took his seat at the briefing room table.

Mentally breathing a sigh of relief that Doctor Frasier had successfully convinced him to expedite the development of the drug only a few weeks ago, the general too resumed his seat. "Before the others get here, Teal'c, I want to hear your side of what happened."

Teal'c bowed his head slightly, his usual stoic, almost placid, expression firmly in place. "I do not remember much, General Hammond. I was deep in kel'no'reem, but I believe it was Daniel Jackson who shot me."

Hammond felt his heart plummet into his stomach. Momentarily speechless he made a sort of "anything else" gesture and Teal'c nodded once, immediately understanding the general's flimsy attempt at communication. "But I do not believe he was aware of what he was doing. Nor do I believe was Colonel O'Neill when he shot Major Carter."

"I don't understand your meaning, Teal'c. Are you saying that both Doctor Jackson and Colonel O'Neill fired their weapons?" Why had he never considered that possibility before? Well, probably because it was twice as insane.

"Their fingers pulled the triggers, General Hammond. But it was not…them." Teal'c briefly closed his eyes and relaxed into his chair, his piece said.

Frowning, more confused than ever, Hammond leaned forward intent on asking Teal'c just what the hell he meant by running around in semantic circles, when footsteps alerted him to the newcomers. He turned, standing when Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill strode through the doorway. Carter was behind the colonel, and both gave off the vaguest sense of unease, like they were waiting for each other to snap.

"Major." He nodded to the weary woman, noting that her skin was just this side of ashen. "Colonel." The address felt strange coming off of his tongue, unsure whether the man was deserving of the title anymore.

"General." They both intoned. As he moved aside to let them pass, they both glimpsed the man behind him.

"Teal'c!" They exclaimed in unison, the tension fleeing for a moment.

"O'Neill, Major Carter, it is good to see you both." Teal'c stood, but Sam was already around the table, throwing her good arm around his neck and taking care not to squeeze too tight.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice was muffled against his big shoulder.

He returned the hug, but frowned as she pulled away. "Have you recalled what occurred, Major Carter?"

Sam glanced briefly at Hammond and her colonel, who had made no move to greet Teal'c. "I think so. Maybe." She turned to face him. "Have you?"

"I cannot be sure." He briefly squeezed her upper arm and pulled out the chair beside him for her to sit in. Without even looking, Sam knew that the colonel had stiffened ever so slightly. Rarely did Sam sit next to anyone but him at briefings. 'Well, colonel, I think this briefing is going to be different in more ways than this.'

Sam had just settled into the cool leather chair when a shout from the gateroom sent her rocketing to her feet. Teal'c was already at the observation window looking down by the time Sam, Jack, and Hammond scrambled to join him. Several feet below them standing just at the base of the ramp was Daniel.

Daniel holding a beretta to his head.

He glared up into the briefing room, face contorting with rage. "Get down here!" He screamed. Before anyone could stop him, Jack was throwing himself headlong down the stairs, feet barely meeting the steps. "Sir!" Sam yelled, tearing after him, well aware that Teal'c and General Hammond were not far behind.

"Clear a path!" Hammond yelled. "Move!"

The three of them burst into the gateroom, Sam and Teal'c looking a little green after the effort. "Stand down!" Hammond ordered the airmen pointing their weapons at Daniel.

"Sir!" One of them protested, but Hammond wasn't paying attention. Colonel O'Neill had reached for Teal'c's zat and yanked it free of its holster before the bigger man could catch his wind. A couple of the airmen half-heartedly turned their weapons on the colonel, unsure whether he was cleared of accusation, but also semi-relieved that someone of a higher standing seemed to maybe be taking control of the situation.

Generally, they were just pretty confused.

"This? This was your grand plan?" Jack's slightly shrill tone cut through the milieu.

"I got the idea from you, sweetcheeks." Daniel hissed, taking a step forward and laughing as Jack unsteadily raised the zat.

"Excuse me?" Hammond knew he had misheard. He must have.

Sam felt a funny little burble at the base of her throat, catching the giggle only at the last second. This was not funny. It was not.

"They have followed us through, General Hammond." Teal'c glanced to his left, at the closest slack-jawed airman, and very calmly appropriated his weapon. "Relinquish your weapons." The demand echoed through the gateroom, but the two men seemed not to hear.

"How many years has it been?" Jack sounded…did he sound almost teary? "Why can't you just let me go?"

"Let you go?" Daniel barked out a short laugh. "How can you let go of something you never truly had?"

"How can you hold onto something you never truly had?" Sam's voice joined the argument as she stepped forward, aware that all eyes in the control room and gateroom were on her. 'Well, great. Just had to add your two cents huh, Major? They'll be talking about that one for weeks.'

Daniel's eyes flicked past Jack. "I remember you." A sneer. "Your sobs still echo in my ears."

Fighting past her fury, Sam struggled to retain her composure. "Not my sobs, tough guy. Teal'c."

Teal'c took several steps towards the pair, the business end of his gun moving between the two. "Relinquish your weapons immediately. Or I will be forced to behave," He paused, the smallest smile twitching across his lips. "Unfavorably."

Jack smirked, the tears that had been forming in his eyes drying almost as quickly as they had shown up. "Fine." The zat clattered to the floor…followed by the colonel.

"Sir!" Sam took a half-step forward before another sound—a chilling sound—filled the room. Teal'c was laughing. A weirdly deep coquettish snicker erupted from between the big man's lips, but the weapon held steady.

"I'd like to see you try to kill me now." With the arm not holding the P-90 aloft, Teal'c flexed, watching his own muscles ripple under the skin.

"I already killed you." Sam whirled, shocked to see General Hammond planted squarely opposite the Jaffa. Looking quickly around, she spotted Daniel sitting at the base of the ramp only semi-conscious. She also noticed that all of the straggling airmen had mysteriously disappeared. Wimps.

"Uh, Major?" Walter's voice -finally- crackled through the intercom.

Sam was trembling as she looked up into the plate-glass window, but it wasn't from fear. Her whole body was shaking with barely controlled mirth—and a little from the arctic chill the gateroom was now plagued with. "Stand down, sergeant. Keep everyone out of this room."

Hammond was walking in a predatory circle around Sam and Teal'c, Daniel and the colonel seemingly forgotten. "You ran as far as you could, but this is it. End of the line."

Teal'c—or rather, the thing possessing Teal'c—scoffed. "For you, maybe."

"For us." The thing inside Hammond stopped, his back to the gate. "I told you once, if it wasn't me it would be nobody."

"And you got what you wanted!" Teal'c roared, raising the gun.

Sam had a millisecond to react. Jumping forward, heedless of the whitehot pain in her chest, she threw her arms up and forced Teal'c's arm towards the ceiling as he fired.

"Major!" Walter yelled through the intercom.

"Hold positions!" Sam yelled in the shockingly quiet gateroom. "That's an order!"

"Oh, so you give orders? I could squash you with my thumb." Sam shoved Teal'c away, reminding herself that if that really had been Teal'c she wouldn't have been so successful. Turning, she opened her mouth to fire back something hopefully witty but probably cruel; she froze as she saw the figure looming behind the general.

Colonel O'Neill, having regained most of his wits, had snuck up behind Hammond, the retrieved zat pointed straight at the general's back. Reflex caused Sam to reach out—to warn—but instinct made her hesitate at the last second. So, really, what happened next was entirely her fault.

Not-Hammond smirked evilly and his eyes rolled back in his head just as Jack fired the zat, hitting his target squarely. Sam wanted to shout an admonishment, but everything had gotten fuzzy, like the gateroom had been covered in a very fluffy, very cold blanket.

Launching forward, Sam slammed the side of her hand into Jack's forearm and, leaping over the general's prone form, caught the zat midair. Using her forward momentum, she rammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him back several paces.

Sam reached up and placed her palm flat over her wound. "I suppose I can't complain, I am the one who shot her after all." She rounded on Teal'c, raising the zat. "You couldn't run forever." She pulled the trigger. Teal'c dropped like a stone, the gun clattering uselessly to the floor. There was a moment of silence. Daniel was stirring groggily on the floor, Hammond and Teal'c were down for the count, Jack was leaning heavily on the closest wall—thoroughly confused-, and Sam was standing smack in the middle.

The ghost—for all involved had at this point figured out it was something to that effect—took that moment to reflect. He could never truly achieve his purpose; he had killed her eons ago and countless times since, finding new peoples and weapons. And still nothing worked. She never truly went away. But then, neither did he. For so long, they had hidden their relationship; it was against their peoples' culture, not to mention they were both adulterers. Tribes didn't mix. So, in a fit of rage and desperation he had taken her life and then his own. He had since dropped the suicide tableau—he figured once she was really gone, he would just…fade away. His last tie to the world.

And with every new hapless traveler they came across they would play out that last exchange, each hoping to escape the other. But they always ended up right back in the same position…each other's only company. It was maddening.

"Feeling guilty about something?" The voice was different, but her tone was always the same. Always on the edge of joking, but deadly serious.

He turned, barely noticing that somewhere deep within this fortress an alarm had begun to sound. He knew it would only be a matter of seconds before she showed up in someone else, but he found he wasn't ready. He was tired. These people were nothing, whatever happened to them didn't concern him. All he knew was that they, like everybody else, had been useless in his quest. "A little, I guess." The words echoed back to him a thousand times, his seventh circle of hell.

The man she was holding hostage quite reminded Edgaran—the name came to him in a moment of clarity and he knew without a doubt it was his own—of himself, when he had been alive so long ago. It would be like watching his death through her eyes…not an unpleasant sentiment, he decided. Using the stranger woman's arm, he raised the foreign weapon. "What I said earlier, about…her," There was that funny little pause again.

He remembered now; Malikan, the woman he'd murdered in feverish love, had goaded him into a fight. He'd shouted that he would rather be with his slovenly wife than ever lay eyes on her again. The blaze in the stranger man's eyes told Edgaran that she had not forgotten those harsh words.

There were other people in the room now, jostling and shouting, but the pair paid them no heed. They retreated into their own world, a world they had unknowingly created…a world that transcended death.

"It's okay." Her reply sounded like a whisper in the midst of all the commotion, but he heard it loud and clear. It wasn't okay. It would never be okay again. Some lines shouldn't be crossed. Lines in the sand keep the sharp rocks visible. They were there to protect them, but like the rising tide, he'd carelessly swept those lines away.

And they would pay for eternity.

…..

Walter watched the whole bizarre exchange with a mixture of terror and uncertainty. He wasn't even remotely sure what the hell was going on, but it appeared that the commander of the SGC and its flagship team had all gone batshit crazy.

It was…it was like they were…possessed. Possessed? "Oh, my god!" Walter exclaimed, half pushing himself away from the window. "They're possessed!" This groundbreaking announcement was met with complete silence. No one even nodded their head. Despite the dire situation the SGC—and consequently, Earth—had found itself in, Walter was a little disappointed. He never got the chance to figure things out first, and now that he had, no one even acknowledged it. "They're posses—ghosts!" He waggled his fingers in the air as he stared incredulously around the room, shell-shocked faces looking right past him. "Guys-!"

"Walter." Another gate technician intoned flatly. "Shut up."

His tone gave Walter the chills. Turning quickly back to the unbelievable scene below them, he swallowed hard. Major Carter was pointing the zat at her own head.

"Sam!" Daniel rocketed to his feet, the motion nearly sending him careening back to the ground. "Sam, don't!"

But Sam didn't move, didn't flinch…in fact, she gave no indication that she'd heard him at all. She stood firm, the zat unwavering. Daniel turned to Jack, who stood just as motionless; his pale face was rigid, but a desperate smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Jack…"

"Do it." Malikan whispered through Jack, raising the hair along Daniel's arms. "It won't matter. Go on, do it. We'll just start over, someplace new…someplace just as hopeless."

Edgaran's finger stiffened, and with it, his resolve. Yes, they would do it again. And this time he would get it right. As his finger flexed, a new sensation joined the mix, his borrowed body suddenly warmer, claustrophobic. A much bigger hand closed on his. "Release Major Carter immediately."

Edgaran tensed his body, feeling the strength ripple through the foreign muscles…but they were an unfortunate match to the behemoth holding him. The weapon was forced down to point uselessly at the ground. Briefly, he considered jumping bodies again, but the big man felt too strong, too hard to hold onto in this nearly-exhausted state. No…he would remain inside this Major Carter. Think, think…new plan…

"Jack! Snap out of it!" Daniel lurched forward a few steps, dizziness making it almost impossible to move.

Malikan snapped her eyes to Daniel, but quickly returned them to Edgaran. She could read the indecision and anguish on his face, but felt only sorrow in her own heart. How could so much love turn into so much hate? When had they become these relics—these shells? But most importantly, why couldn't she just die?

"Jack! Dammit, what do you want?" Daniel flung the question into open air, the force of it buckling his knees and forcing him to the cold concrete.

Edgaran felt the words hit like the weight of a thousand suns. If he counted, he was sure that's how many he'd seen. So many suns…so many worlds… "I—I want," His voice was choked and hollow. He could feel Major Carter's throat constricting against his tears and suddenly he was overcome with pity and jealously. This woman would live and she would die. And, yet, Edgaran would go on. His eyes locked onto Malikan's. "I want to die."

"Newsflash, you are dead." 'What?!' Walter slapped his hand over his mouth, choking down the terrified giggle that was fighting its way up. What the hell had made him say that? He was probably possessed too. When the ghost had gone into Colonel O'Neill, the older man had clearly jumped ship and taken over Walter's mouth.

Wait. That didn't come out right.

Malikan's eyes flicked to the large see-through pane above Edgaran and the briefest of smiles flashed across the borrowed mouth. "Not yet we aren't."

"Um, just a heads up," Daniel gave up on trying to stand and settled himself more comfortably on the floor, breathing a little heavily. "If that's what you want, you should probably talk to her." He gestured limply at Sam. "The, ah, real her."

"There's nothing to be done." Edgaran spat out, weakly attempting to jerk from the deathgrip he was held in. "There is no hope."

"Okay, well, that's just pathetic." Daniel wheezed, blinking tiredly up at Sam. "If you want to have a pity party, go for it. Just not on my time. And not in my friends' bodies."

"Pity…party?" Malikan felt the first hint of her grasp on the man weakening. She had been there too long, had been too distracted. Her grip was slipping slowly, but soon she would be forced to find somebody else. Not that there were many options. Nearly everybody in this room had already played unwilling host and Malikan was afraid of what lay behind those big grey doors. She just wanted to go home.

Wherever that was.

"Major Carter would indeed be your greatest hope for achieving your goal." Teal'c tightened his grip just slightly, silently apologizing to his teammate for the bruises and sore muscles he was surely leaving. Under the circumstances, he doubted she would mind. A zat blast to the head would not a happy Major Carter make.

"There is-,"

"No hope. Yeah, we got it." Daniel cut across Edgaran. "Except what if there was?" Edgaran flicked his eyes over to the rumpled man. "What have you got to lose?"

Edgaran felt the borrowed woman begin to push at him; she seemed much more capable mentally against Edgaran than physically against the behemoth, he was losing his grip quickly. "Edgaran…"

The name was whispered and for the first time, he felt odd hearing such a sound emitted from a strange man's mouth. He looked at Malikan, wanting to find the right answer, wanting her to tell him what to do…but he found himself looking into very unfamiliar, very cold eyes. "You get the hell out of my major. Now!"

And everything went black.

A/N: This is the end of our here story. I got a little stir crazy with the darkness and threw in a little humor. Too angsty for six'o'clock in the morning! Also, I took a little (okay, a lot) of liberty with the response of the SGC to this hostile exchange in the gateroom. But let's just pretend everybody listened to Sam's order and then got so confused and discombobulated that they felt compelled to just watch the exchange until such time that their action seemed necessary, kay?

Epilogue will be posted within the week!