Setting: Abyss, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Mirror Universe.
Pairings referenced: Sam/Jack, Sara/Jack Archive: Yes, whatever.
Notes: Hit me while walking to work on Tuesday. Three-fourths of this was actually written there until A came by and told me not to type (even when I have nothing else to do... sigh. Hate my job). The rest was written that night, and then edited tonight because I needed the distance (and time to plot out what else is going on). The title and chapter titles are ENTIRELY stolen from the Pet Shop Boys' song of the same name which is a NICE song. Sigh. Damn them.
Up Against It Chapter 3: Still in Fatigues by Ana Lyssie Cotton
General George Hammond sometimes hates his job. He looks across the room at Teal'c, eyes mirroring the horror that is suddenly in the tall man's stance. "My god, Teal'c."
"There is no god where she has been."
Jonas Quinn has carefully bundled Major Carter in a few blankets. "She'll be all right, won't she?"
"We can hope, son." The final words on her lips are still ringing in his ears, and he feels a sick sense that it won't be the last thing she says that will break his soul.
"Can I... Can I stop, please?" Colonel O'Neill seems to have sunk in on himself, his eyes wide with something approaching horror as he looks at the three members of SG-1.
"Yes. Thank you for your efforts." He can't call this one 'son', yet. Or even Jack. Because that still hurts a little too much.
"Good." He breaks from his paralysis and moves one step towards the tableau.
The look Jonas is giving him is not friendly.
"Mr. Quinn, I didn't..." A hand rubs across a face in a habitual gesture that makes George whince. "I didn't want to..."
"But you did," and the resentment in the young man's voice is obvious.
"Jonas Quinn. Much as it pains me to admit it, Major Carter is currently not in her right state of mind."
"Maybe. And maybe she's just fine."
"She is not just fine." Gairwyn looks at them, a sad note in her voice. "When she came to me, she was covered in the blood of the man she killed. She could barely stand."
"Let's get her back to base, people. Gairwyn, I'm sorry you had to be a witness and a party to this."
"Major Carter has risked her life on behalf of my people before, General. I would not turn my back on a debt owed."
"Nor will we."
She inclines her head. "Thank you."
The trip back to the gate and to the SGC is uneventful, only a few villagers seeing them off. Major Carter is bundled off to the infirmary, Jonas and Teal'c in their wake. Summers follows with very little hesitation, but Jack O'Neill stands in the gate room looking torn.
"She's not going to want to speak to me, is she."
"No. Until we've had time to explain to her Mackenzie's reasoning."
An irritated expression appears on the younger man, "Y'know, I didn't like him on my side of the mirror. I bet he's as much of an ass here, too."
"Probably." That this Jack O'Neill is correct doesn't make George feel any better. Instead of dwelling on it, for the moment, he considers what he knows of the man next to him. Still married to Sara with two kids, leading SG-1, but not in the capacity they had been here. Not the first-strike team. No, they were the second in, pulling ambassadorial duties and flashy showings of rank.
Something like guilt touches Jack's face. "I think she was right, sir."
"Right?"
"About me. I never should have left."
"Son." And now he is son, because George is tired of losing his people. "You did what you had to do. And she'll understand that."
"Not if she's anything like Sara." Now there's grief as well.
George sighs, "Go to your quarters, we're still working on the legalities. I'll have someone ready to drive you home once the paperwork is completed."
With a salute, Colonel O'Neill leaves. And General George Hammond sighs, and heads to his office to do paperwork and await the inevitable report from Dr. Fraiser.
He spends three hours filing away documents dealing with the SGC. Reports, invoices, lists of personnel -- all busy work. Until, finally, there is a knock on his door, and Janet Fraiser enters without waiting for permission.
There is little bounce in her step and she looks dead tired, as if she's run a marathon to hell and back. Maybe she has.
"Report."
"Except for a little anemia, and a little malnutrition, she's in perfect health, sir."
He knows it's the tip of the iceberg. "And?"
"There's evidence of old injuries, but nothing conclusive. If I had to guess, I'd say she was in a sarcophagus at least twice. Possibly more. And, sir, I don't think she's going to actually tell us."
"I know, Doctor. What else?"
"She still hasn't woken up, but she also had very low blood sugar. She's simply worn out, sir."
"Who's with her?"
"After hearing Jonas's report, I thought it best to leave only him and Cassie. Sam... Sam doesn't deal well with being betrayed, sir."
"It was necessary."
"Was it?"
Hammond sighs. He wants, more than anything, to go back in time and throttle Mackenzie. Better yet, he can have the man re-assigned the moment he first meets him. "We thought... He thought we needed to do this. That she needs a catharsis of some sort."
"I'm not sure, at this point, what she needs." Fraiser stands and moves towards the door, "But I will not tolerate that man anywhere near her."
"I'll make sure he understands that."
"You do that." She pauses, hand on the knob. "Oh, and General, make no mistake, Sam WILL be back 100 percent. Even if it kills her."
That's what I'm afraid of, he thinks.
-
White, again, and she remembers Ba'al laughing as she fell down the rabbit hole. She doesn't want to wake up, doesn't want to be able to feel just yet. But there's a hand in hers, and that is somehow wrong.
It takes a moment for her eyes to function properly, and then she can see. Cassandra Fraiser has fallen asleep in the chair next to her bed, hand still tightly clasped. Sam stares at her, and tries to remember how she got here. For a wild moment, she's so afraid this is still Ba'al's palace, that she's hallucinating. But she wouldn't hallucinate everything down to the beeps of the machines and the sound of Janet's heels. Would she?
"Hey."
Not sure if she wants to speak yet, Sam simply watches the doctor do her job. A motherly, amused smile, gets sent towards Cassie. "I see she couldn't hack it. She's going to be irritated, she bet Jonas she could."
"Teal'c drugged me." The sense of betrayal blasts through her, already broken and scoured parts of her brain crying for mercy.
"He only did what he thought he had to."
"Janet." Her voice is raspy, but she's through asking for help. It simply gets her into trouble. "All they had to do was ask."
"Really? According to General Hammond, you were incoherent with rage. They were--"
Memory cascades back. A broken, bloody body, Malek's sad words. They tried, but there wasn't any time to save him. And then everything greys out, because she doesn't want to remember what happens next. It's easier to focus on the man, arrogant and mocking, who broke her control. The Colonel was always good at that. Driving her insane. "Janet... Is he really staying?"
"For the moment, yes. His world was over-run, Sam. He lost everyone." Janet actually sounds sad.
"He's an asshole."
"Only because he was asked to be."
"What?"
Janet sighs, "Dr. Mackenzie came up with this theory that you needed to be prodded into a breakdown of some sort. And since we suddenly had a Colonel O'Neill, who was most definitely NOT dead, he thought that would be a perfect use for him."
"Say that again in English."
"You got it the first time."
"He's not an asshole?"
"Oh, he's as much of an asshole as our Colonel was. And younger, to boot, which has, of course, disconcerted all of my nurses."
"And made him smirk," Sam mutters.
"He's still grieving over his wife, Sam. I don't think he even notices."
"So... all the things he said, the way he acted -- it was all a lie?"
"Yup."
"Janet? When did I get to the Bizarro SGC?" She wants to cry, but fights it back, because crying is pointless.
"About the same time you signed on here."
"Yeah." Sam looks down at Cassie, still asleep. "When can I go home?"
"I'd like to keep you here for observation--"
"Please?"
Janet half-smiles, "I knew you would want to leave, though. So you can. But, ONLY, if you take Jonas with you."
"Why not Teal'c?" And she can't keep the sarcasm from her voice.
"Because he's the one who drugged you."
Nice to know someone knows her. She tugs on Cassie's hand. "Hey, sleepy. Wake up."
The teenager jerks her head up, and blinks. "Sam!"
"Heya, kid-- Oof." The wind knocked out of her, she hugs the suddenly on her chest teen. "Hey. Need to breathe, here."
"Oh. Sorry." The grip loosens, and Cassie looks at her. "You're all right?"
"Yeah." Brushing a strand of hair away from Cassie's face, Sam smiles. "And your mother is letting me go home."
"Lucky you."
"She has to take Jonas."
"Ooooh. Doubly lucky."
Sam rolls her eyes, "Hey. Need to sit up now, Cass."
"Gotcha."
With little trouble, Sam sits up, then eyes Janet expectantly.
"What?"
"Clothes?"
The doctor rolls her eyes. "Coming right up, my liege."
Cassie giggles, then sighs and leans against Sam. "It's good to have yo back."
"Good to be back, kid." She ruffles the teenager's hair.
There's a commotion at the infirmary door, and Sam raises her eyebrows as Mackenzie stalks in, the on-duty nurse behind him. "Sir, you can't--"
"Dr. Fraiser, I can't believe you're letting this woman go!"
"This is MY infirmary."
"She's a danger to herself, she--"
"Excuse me?" Sam's hand is very polite as she taps him on the shoulder.
"Major." He looks her up and down, "You shouldn't be out of bed, or this infirmary."
"Actually," Sam inspects her knuckles, then gives him a toothy grin, "The only person I'm a danger to? Is you." There is something satisfying in the crunch his nose makes as her fist impacts it.
Mackenzie goes down like a two-bit whore.
"Sam."
"Janet." She turns away, disinterested. "I believe you were finding me some clothes?"
"Dr. Fraiser, I tried to stop him--"
"It's all right, Rebecca."
A few minutes later, Mackenzie is on one of the beds (his head, sadly, isn't as hard as certain other people's), and Sam is dressed. She hugs Cassie one last time, then turns to Jonas. "Shall we?"
"Your chariot awaits, Sam." He's grinning, and she wonders about inane things like who taught him to drive. Oh, right. Her.
Checking out is simple, the drive is silent, her house is dusty. She waves a hand at the guest room, tells him where the sheets are, and retires. Because she needs sleep. She's sure of it. she's just not sure if she's actually sleepy.
Two hours of tossing and turning are her limit, and she heard Jonas settle at least an hour and a half before. She doesn't want to wake him, but she needs to do something.
And her house is dusty.
Dressing in a baggy pair of pants and a t-shirt, she starts in the bathroom (the kitchen is the one horror she doesn't want to face in the half-light of 1 a.m.), scrubbing the sink until it gleams and then moving on to the tub. By the time she makes it out to the living room, Jonas is up again.
"Sam?"
"I can't sleep."
They clean and dust until there isn't anything left in the living room that isn't spotless, and then they move on. They tackle the kitchen around 5, in silence (except for the occasional request for various cleaning supplies). Jonas finally admits defeat (and a need for sleep) around 7.
And then it's only her, in the silence of her house. Jonas doesn't snore, or he hasn't learned to yet. Sam kind of wonders if you can teach that sort of thing.
The Colonel snored. It was one of the things that endeared him to her (which is stupid and sappy and completely sentimental, and if she had slept, she wouldn't even be thinking it). He didn't snore off world. But on team nights, when they'd all be crashed out, he did it. Daniel snored, too. There are no tears in her to cry, she thinks Ba'al stole them with the sarcophagus.
Ba'al stole a lot of things from her.
She doesn't want to think of him, though, so she flips on the tv and watches early morning cartoons. And marvels at the stupidity of the population that allows their children to watch such drek.
When Jonas finally gets up, she's taken a shower and gotten dressed in something vaguely respectable. Once she's fed him (and her, she'd almost forgotten how good food could be), she drags him off with her to the mall. Cassie would probably have liked to go, but she isn't planning to buy anything. She just doesn't want to be alone in the silence.
They window shop and try things on and mock each other for hours like two crazy teenagers. It's probably the most fun she's had in ages. Only one store makes her turn around and leave, heart pounding, and that's because the leather smells too much like him.
"Hey."
"Candy store."
And the moment is lost with the hundred other little moments she doesn't want to remember.
-
She actually sleeps that night, and only dreams once. And the dream isn't something she remembers in the morning. Jonas makes breakfast, leaving her to watch and mock him (he made the coffee first). And she feels almost all domestic, except that her feet aren't bare, and she has a knife in her boot. Maybe a little paranoid and domestic.
The phone rings around ten, and she grabs it before Jonas can (he's still doing the dishes, wearing his "Kiss the Cook" apron). "Carter."
"Major." Hammond sounds tired, "The Tok'ra and the rebel jaffa are requesting your assistance at the Alpha Site."
"I thought none of you could trust me, sir." The sarcasm is all Jack's, at this point.
"I can't, but they're requesting you and the rest of SG-1."
"And him?"
"Once they were told of his existence, he was added to their list."
Her gut roils, and she wonders if she can hold her breakfast down. "Who's in charge?"
"You."
"Will he take my orders?"
"You have permission to kick his ass back through the gate if he doesn't."
The unsettled feeling continues, but it's slightly different now. "Thank you, sir. Jonas and I will be in within the hour."
-tbc-