Just a little story I wrote after watching Divide and Conquer... happens right after. Spoilers for the ep!
Samantha!
He was dead. Dead, dead, dead... the word reverberating through Sam's brain, not registering. Martouf was dead. Gone. Never coming back.
She just couldn't process it.
A part of her felt the loss of a good friend. The other part...
Dead.
He couldn't be dead.
She clutched his body, cradling his head, trying to find any sign of life. But all there was were bloody holes riddling his body. She'd fired the killing shot. She'd murdered her friend.
She could feel her eyes well up with tears, but she wouldn't let them fall. She couldn't. Not here in front of her friends, in front of the general, the president, the Supreme High Councilor. She kept her eyes locked on Martouf's face, willing him to suddenly open his eyes and say it had all been just a joke. But he didn't.
Suddenly, Jack's face appeared in front of her. "Carter." His voice was gentle, full of sorrow. She tried to focus on him, but couldn't. "Carter, Anise wants to take the body back to the Tok'ra home world," he told her. She could see compassion in his eyes, as well as grief.
"Anise?!" Sam spat out, surprised and outraged. She knew what the Tok'ra woman would do to Martouf.
And there she was, standing there, a look of sadness on her face. Sam knew it was fake. She didn't care about Martouf more than his brain could give her. She'd said his death would be a noble sacrifice. Well, this was what she'd meant. She'd cut open his head and pull apart his brain...
"Get away," she hissed at her, forgetting that there were other people in the room, staring at her. She clutched at Martouf protectively. "I won't let you slice open his head!"
Anise looked surprised. "Major Carter," she began, her voice stiff. "Martouf can be used to save many other lives, not just those of the za'tarc but of their targets as well." Sam couldn't believe her ears.
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop talking about him as if he's some sort of... of tool you can use! He was a living person! He-"
"Sam." Jack touched her hand, drawing her gaze. "You have to let him go." Sam stared at him, pleading with her eyes, even though she knew it was no use. Laying Martouf gently on the ground, she stood up stiffly and walked out without a word.
After an uncomfortable silence, talk began to resume among the conference attendees. Jack walked over to Anise, his eyes shooting sparks.
"If you ever do anything to hurt her again," he breathed, his voice deadly quiet, "I will make your life a living hell." Anise matched his gaze, trying to stare him down. "Is that clear?" They stared at each other for another few moments, then Anise dropped her eyes.
Looking back up, she answered, "Perfectly," in the same tone Jack had used. Glaring at her for a moment longer, Jack stalked out of the room.
Sam fled to her lab, finally allowing the tears to pour down her face. She couldn't believe Martouf was really gone. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have forgotten him? She'd been so worried about herself that he'd been pushed completely out of her mind, and now he was dead for it.
Slamming open the door to her lab, she stared around with wild eyes. Everything was normal. How could everything be normal?! He was dead. It didn't have a right to be normal.
Closing the door, she stumbled around her tables, looking for a corner where she could disappear. She pressed herself into the space between a desk and the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and pressing her face in them. She rocked back and forth slowly, wanting to just disappear. It wasn't fair. Notfairnotfairnotfair...
Dimly, she wondered which part of her was experiencing all these emotions. The part of her that was Jolinar just wanted to curl up and die, was emitting grief, horror, devastation so great that it seemed to swallow Sam up. She couldn't deal with this. It was too much, too much to take on top of her own feelings.
Suddenly she heard the door creak open. Glad she'd left the lights off, she pressed herself further into the corner and tried not to make a sound. The last thing she needed right now was for someone to find her like this.
Footsteps approached where she was hiding, clunking loudly in the otherwise silent room. Go away, please, just go away, she thought desperatly. The steps didn't listen. Pausing right in front of her, she heard a voice whisper,
"Sam?" It was Jack. Oh god, it was Jack. She didn't answer, hoping maybe he would just go away.
"Sam." He reached out and touched her leg, gently, ever so gently. She still didn't respond, just kept her face buried.
"Sam, come out. Please," he pleaded softly. Sam shook her head, still not showing her face. She didn't trust herself to stay together if she looked at him.
"It's not your fault," he told her quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong. None of us thought of it in time." She let out a single, gasping sob that broke Jack's heart.
"Go away, please," she begged brokenly. Jack reached up and caught her hand, squeezing it.
"I'm not leaving you like this," he stated calmly, quietly, wishing she'd let him help. He couldn't stand to see her like this, in obvious pain, her thin shoulders shaking with unheard sobs.
"Sam, please," Jack asked again, his voice breaking. "Please, let me help." She shouldn't, she knew. She couldn't. If she let him in, all her walls would come crashing down. But she wanted to let him help her, she needed him to.
"I murdered him," she choked out. "I pulled the trigger. I forgot about him. It's all my fault-"
"No, Sam, it isn't!" Jack broke in angrily, gripping her other hand in an iron grasp. "If it's anyone's fault, it's the goa'uld who programmed him. He would have died anyway, whether you'd shot him or not. He asked you to kill him. Better that you do it than let him kill himself!" She was trembling, shaking so hard Jack was afraid she'd fall apart.
"Sam, come here," he whispered pleadingly, pulling her out of her little hole and into his arms. She collapsed against him, crying, clutching at his shirt.
"I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore," she sobbed. "I don't know if it's me, or Jolinar, or both, or if I'm just going crazy from holding this much emotion over a man I hardly knew!" Her voice sounded miserable, desperate. Jack pressed her tightly against him, stroking her hair, wishing there was something he could do to help. Wishing he could go back and time and change a million things. Wishing that damn Tok'ra hadn't taken her.
"You're Samantha Carter," he whispered fiercely into her ear. "Not some snake-head." She gave a hysterical little laugh, which sent a flash of fear through Jack.
"Hey, calm down," he murmured. "Just breath for me, Sam." But Sam was too far gone. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and he could tell she was on the edge of a panic attack.
"Sam!" he half-shouting, forcing her to look at him. "Just concentrate on me," he said, putting his hands around her face. "Just look at me and breath. Don't think, just breathe." Sam struggled to slow her breathing as Jack dropped his hand to rub her back in slow, soothing circles.
"C'mon, Sam, it's ok. It's gonna be ok," he whispered, never breaking eye contact. He could hear every breath, every heart beat. He matched his breathing to hers, gradually slowing it down, and finally she seemed under control again. She collapsed against him, exhausted. He closed his eyes, continuing to rub her back, resting his forhead on the top of her head. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had to experience these emotions she didn't even understand.
"J-Jack, it's cold," she whispered. Jack started. Cold?
"Sam, I'm gonna take you down to Fraiser," he told her gently. "I think you're in shock."
"No..."
"Yes, Sam," he stated with finality, then picked her up and cradled her against his chest. She closed her eyes, letting him carry her down. That scared Jack more than anything.
Jack walked through the door of the infirmary, and Janet looked up. A horrified expression crossed her face as she cried, "Sam!" Jack gave a little shake of his head, and she continued quickly, "Put her down over here."
Jack did so, laying her down carefully on the bed. She just lay there, limp, tear-stains covering her face. Her eyes were dull, dead.
"What happened?" Janet breathed, her voice full of concern.
"I think she's in shock," Jack told her, running his hand through her hair. "She had a panic attack, and said she was cold. I didn't want it to get worse."
"Certainly looks like it," Janet murmured. "Martouf?"
Jack could only nod.
"Sam, honey, I'm gonna give you a sedative to help you sleep, ok?" Sam didn't answer. She seemed to have withdrawn completely into herself. Janet looked up with helpless eyes at Jack, then set up the IV and gave her the sedative. Sam still hadn't moved.
"It'll take a few minutes to take effect," Janet told Jack softly, staring at Sam with haunted eyes. "Sam..." Her friend still said nothing. Janet sighed and, breaking off her lingering look, walked away.
Jack walked over and sat down next to her. "Sam?" he asked softly. "You ok?" She just rolled over, facing away from him. He rubbed her shoulder for a second, then impulsively lay down on the bed beside her, resting his arm protectively over her.
"It's gonna be ok, Sam," he whispered. "Just hang in there." For a moment she didn't answer, but then she reached up and touched his hand. Grabbing onto it, he squeezed it, putting as much reassurance into that one gesture as he could. Then he just held her, soothed her, until the sedative kicked in. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the pillow, and together they lay there, immoble.
Janet came in a few minutes later and gave a little smile. Sam might have a hard time ahead of her, but at least she wouldn't be facing it alone.
FIN