She was eight years old, blowing the candles that decorated her cake out. "Make a wish Sam!--

--She was eleven years old, running home to the farmhouse through the fields of rippling cereals-

-He was thirteen, enjoying his first kiss--

--She was petting her dog--

-She was eighteen, graduating from highschool. There were mortarboards in the air-

-She held the crystal device in her hands, the thrill of making it work-

These memories were not all her own. She recognised some of them as Jolinar's, but where had the image of the farm come from? She had never owned a dog...

Where am I?

Why am I here?

What's happening to me?

A voice spoke. Not her own.

I AM HERE.

Confusion. She could feel the insidious presence sliding into her body as if it were a coat. Not Go'auld. Not anything she had ever encountered before. Different. It made thinking hard. It was inside her, in her mind. Not like Go'auld, or Tok'ra. They simply took the body, the mind was intact and alone, simply unable to make the body respond. This was in her mind, erasing who she was, taking it for itself. When it did she knew with absolute clarity she would die.

She opened her mouth to scream but there was no longer a mouth to open; it didn't belong to her anymore.

NO. I ONLY WISH TO LEARN.

What? she asked, weakly.

IDENTITY.

Sam Carter opened her eyes, mouth open in a silent scream. She was lying in her bed at home, drenched in cold sweat and her heart hammering. She lay rigid for a moment and then forced herself to relax, muscle by muscle. She snuggled into her pillow, trying to recall the nightmare. It had drained away, like water through fingers.

For a moment a terrible panic washed over her. Why was she in her bed at home? She remembered collapsing in the General's office; how had she ended up home--?

The thought dissipated, the sense of comfortable drowsiness returning forcefully. Something was forcing her mind away from that thought and she was content to let it. Indeed, she couldn't remember thinking it. Of course she was home. It was Saturday.

Sam! Sam, you've got to concentrate! You must-

She blinked, her head cocked to one side as she heard the discord. And then it was gone again.

She dragged herself out of the bed, the sheets tangled as if she had been thrashing about in her sleep. She entered her bathroom, turning on the shower, giving it a brief second to warm up as she took off her bedclothes, and then stepping under the jet of hot water.

Last night had been a complete washout. She was mildly annoyed at herself for crying before she fell asleep. This morning she felt...curiously empty now she had left the comfort of her bed, Every time she thought of Jack and Julia her stomach twisted as she calmly rubbed shower gel into her arms. And every time she thought of Pete the overwhelming sense of guilt returned. It wasn't fair! It made her so angry!

--she gave her husband a ringing slap, still shocked he had the audacity to suggest--

--they broke into his house and they stole his only--

--it made her so angry!--

--God, he was going to kill them if he caught them--

--tear them limb from limb--

--Go'auld scum!--

She shook her head, trying to remember what she had been thinking, her hand holding the bottle of shower gel in mid air. The thought obviously lost, she continued to wash.

Inside, someone screamed with anger.

She tried to pull herself together. Cassie would be home from Sofia's soon. But her brain seemed to be locked in a cycle of thought. Jack. Julia. Pete. JackJuliaPete... She leaned her forehead against the cool tiles of the shower, and hating herself for being so weak, started to cry again.

--It was broken. It was his favourite toy and it was broken--

--Niles, the farm dog. He had always been her favourite. The sweetest natured of all of them. And now he was dead--

--Her mother was gone. And nothing could bring her back, nothing could ever fill this emptiness--

--He was leaving her. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do--

O'Neill dried himself off, trying to think about nothing at all, especially not Carter, and achieving astonishing success. Maybe he could watch something on the TV. The Simpsons sounded appealing. If it wasn't on he could always watch a video.

A good plan. He dressed himself, decided to forget shaving and went downstairs. He wasn't hungry enough for breakfast yet. He flicked the TV on. The Simpsons wasn't on, but he pushed the video half out of his player back in. The screen flickered and Homer appeared on the screen, sitting on his couch.

He laughed. The Simpsons was true comic genius.

--she was laughing so hard her ribs ached--

--it was so funny--

--he probably shouldn't laugh but the hilarity of the situation--

--is it immature to laugh at bodily noises? Ah, who cares--

Sudden panic set in. Why was he watching television at home? He had been in his office. Carter! She'd...

The panic faded, replaced with a vague calm.

Jack, you're an ass.

"Hello?" he asked, curiosity aroused and temporarily overriding that enforced calmness. "Is there someone there?"

Oh, for cryin' out loud. I'm you. You've got to get to the SGC...

The thought faded.

He was in his kitchen. Why was he in his kitchen? Christ, old age was creeping up on him, he couldn't even remember walking in here...

Breakfast, he decided. The world would seem a more normal place when he had eaten something.

It bounced from consciousness to consciousness, searching desperately for something new, a different experience. The key. It must be careful not to push too hard. These minds were strong, they resisted, but they were not able to overcome Its manipulation. Like all the other beings they would undoubtably die when It grew bored and pressed too deeply into their minds, taking them for Its own, not finding what It was looking for and leaving, carrying on the search.

And the body cannot live without the mind.

Yes. They would die like all the others. It was inevitable, if things continued in this manner. But a whole world was open to It once again! Billions of people! One of them, It knew, would hold the key. They must.

Jack! This isn't real! This never happened! STOP!

They were dancing, cheek to cheek, like he had occasionally dreamed of. Her dress brushed the carpet, hiding the exquisite and damn expensive bridal shoes, but that was rather the point. The music was ending, the dance was nearly over and he knew he must relinquish her back to the man who was now her legally wedded husband.

But for the moment he clung to her; unwilling to let her go quite yet. He had always known, in his heart of battered hearts, that she would move on. Stop caring about him more than she was supposed to.

He had to know. He had to ask, otherwise he'd spend the rest of his days wondering.

"Carter?" he whispered in her ear.

"What?" she murmured, voice muffled by his shoulder.

"If..."He couldn't believe he was actually asking the question. "If things had been different. If I'd resigned or... something. Could this... Could this have been us?"

There was a long pause, drawn out over the dying cadence of the song.

"Yes."

A strange feeling seemed to burst in chest, a mixture of absolute joy and devastating bereavement. She loved him! And yet she had left him.

--how could he love someone who hurt him like this?--

--death is not the end. He must remember this. She has gone to a better place--

--I miss him--

Jack! You have to get to the SGC!

The dance was over. He let her go. "Congratulations Sam," he said, his voice broken.

A single tear was tracing a meandering course down her cheek as she nodded her thanks to him. He turned away, a broken man. He felt the desperate need to get away from this place. Somewhere, anywhere, would be better than here.

The SGC.

How long had it been since he had been there? He couldn't remember. He had work to finish. Work. Always a good method of distracting himself. He would go to his office and catch up on paperwork.

Yes!!

I know this chapter doesn't make a lot of sense... but stay with me. All will be revealed. Thanks for all the kind reviews! --Lunar