Chapter Three - Her Door Was Always Open

"My door's always open, you can call anytime you want..."

"Sister?" Jack echoed, wondering if he had heard correctly. Surely he'd misunderstood?

Sam nodded slowly, her eyes filling with tears. Her face flushed red with the embarrassment of letting her emotions show but it felt like she couldn't hold back anymore and after so many years of denial and repression, the dam had finally burst. She wiped her eyes brusquely, her cheeks rubbed of any traces of salty tears. She looked to him hesitantly, trying to gauge his reaction, wondering whether he hated her for not telling him.

"You have a sister?" He asked again, this time was less for confirmation but more for filling the uncomfortable silence as he saw his second crying in front of him. He approached the lab table slowly and cautiously, unsure as to whether she would want the meagre comfort he could provide. He was notoriously bad at reassuring people and Sara would testify to that. Maybe Daniel was right; he'd just put his foot in his mouth again and cause her to feel even worse. He was unclear as to why she was crying but he guessed it had something to do with her mother's death; she'd patched up her relationship with Mark and her father, maybe Elizabeth wasn't so forthcoming.

"Two years younger than me." Sam said out of the blue and Jack took that as a sign she was willing to talk and he was certainly willing to listen. He pulled a chair-type thing from the corner and sat opposite her at the desk, pulling the door closed so no gossiping airmen or women would eavesdrop the conversation.

"You look identical." Jack added, gesturing towards the photo which Sam picked up in her hands, her eyes tracing the outlines of their happy smiles, the casual arm around Beth's shoulder, the hair they'd perfected for hours that morning. It was almost a relief to talk to someone about her, to realise that she wasn't a figment of her imagination like it felt, that Beth existed, somewhere.

"Everyone used to tell us that," She commented with a small smile, the corners of her lips lifting. Jack was relieved that the tears had subsided and that his second was more concerned with reminiscing about her childhood, however unhappy some elements of it had been, "When we were younger, we'd pretend we were twins. Even Mom and Dad forgot we weren't sometimes." She paused, placing the photo back down, her mood sobering almost instantly. "But that was a long time ago. Before mom died…"

"She must have been about eleven, right?" Jack asked, then mentally hitting himself. Why would she want to talk about the most traumatic event in her life? It was like someone asking him about Charlie, upon which he would clamp up like a small child, his voice would turn gravelly and strained and it felt like the clocks had turned back to when he heard that gunshot.

"Yeah," Sam replied softly, so gently that he could barely catch her voice, "After she died, Beth tried to do everything. She was Mark's confidante, someone to listen to him and understand the pain that no-one else could bear to think about. And she used to help me with cooking, making sure I didn't burn the house down," Sam paused with a teary smile, "And she'd be the perfect daughter for Dad. The one he didn't have to worry about whether she was working too hard or partying too hard like he did with me and Mark. Turns out no-one was there for her. We were all too busy telling her our problems that we never listened to hers."

Jack was sure that meant something important but at that stage was unsure as to its connotations. Sam's voice lowered as she spoke the last words, her body language becoming tight and guilty. He neared the table, his hands creeping onto the desk to hold hers in his own. She glanced up, a look of uncertainty on her face, but didn't say a word, "It must have been hard for her."

Sam nodded, grateful for Jack's words. If she stopped talking, stopped listening to what he was asking her, her mind would float back to the dreadful months after her mother's death.

"Lizzie?" Jacob called up the stairs, his voice loud and demanding. His posture was frustrated as he tapped his foot on the worn carpet and waited for his youngest child to make an appearance. Behind him, Mark and Sam stood impatiently, both shooting daggers at their father between arguing with each other about the most asinine problems.

Finally Elizabeth clambered down the stairs, text books in arm. Her hair was tied up with a ribbon as requested with the colours of her high school which was currently a shade of blue that perfectly matched her own, and Sam's eyes. She bowed her head slightly as she saw Sam glaring at her; her sister was practically paranoid about late for anything, something which Beth presumed stemmed from their mother's passing. She shook herself mentally, trying to lift herself out of her misery. Dad wouldn't like it. She reached the bottom of the stairs and Jacob opened the door, letting Mark out who immediately jumped in the back, keeping furthest away from their father. Sam slid in next to him as Jacob followed Elizabeth out the door.

"So are you coming to the swim meet tonight?" Elizabeth asked, turning round to look at Jacob as they walked down the garden path, "It'll be the toughest meet this year but Coach thinks we have a good chance of winning and-..."

"Lizzie," Jacob interrupted, his tone placating and gentle in a way that aroused suspicions in Elizabeth immediately, "I'm going away for a few days didn't Sammie and Mark tell you?"

Elizabeth bit her lip, almost drawing blood as she restrained herself from shouting at him about how unfair it was. She wasn't going to be that cliché, she refused to be. "No, they didn't," She replied in a measured voice, looking towards Sam who was staring up at the sky from inside the car, her expression dreamy and reminiscent of when the whole family would lie on the lawn and watch the clouds. No doubt her sister was dreaming of flying up to the sky and never coming back down again. "I guess they just forgot."

"We were so busy all arguing with each other that we didn't notice her," Sam replied, her guilt seeping through in the strained words that she spoke, "I suppose I figured that she'd be OK because she was Elizabeth; the one who kept it all together."

"And she wasn't? OK, I mean? She wasn't OK?" Jack asked, sensing that there were more reasons than was first obvious for why Carter didn't want people to know about her sister.

Sam shook her head silently, and she could feel the tears spring into life but she refused to submit again. She'd shed so many tears at the time that she never thought she'd cry again. "No, she wasn't." She verbally acknowledged, her voice tender and quiet, "I came home one day from school expecting to see her. She always got home before me although I don't know how. I searched the house, calling for her. I went into the garden to see if she was sunbathing and she wasn't," Sam paused, drawing an uncomfortable breath and his hand tightened, "That's when I started to worry. I heard the car in the garage and something in me knew. I smashed the door open and the gas hit me like a wave. I ran to turn the car off and I dragged her body outside. I tried resuscitating her but she was cold. I'd never felt her that cold before. The doctors told us afterwards that she'd been dead since noon. She was only fourteen."

Jack had no idea what to say, or what to do. So he rose from his seat and pulled his second into a bear hug, knowing that whilst it didn't take away the pain or make anything hurt less, it certainly helped to know someone was there for you even when trapped in the vast depths of grief, "I'm so sorry." He whispered into her ear, the words sounding so inconsequential.

She pulled away slightly, wiping her wet eyes with her hand. "Thank you." She replied genuinely, knowing how hard it was for him with Charlie's death, but he was still there for her, still ready to offer his support and comfort. She sat back down on her seat albeit looking more fragile and he leant against the lab table. "I had therapy. The doctors didn't think that losing my mother and my sister in the space of three years was helpful," She paused, wiping her eyes, "Some of them even thought I might do the same. But however much I wanted to be with her, I knew I could never be that brave or selfish."

More coming soon…

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