Disclaimers and notes on Chapter One
Chapter Two: Life Discovery
"Welcome back, SG-1." General Hammond is standing at the bottom of the ramp as jovial as ever.
She wonders if any of those here have ever had to see his dark side. And wonders, too, if she really ever did. "Sir." She may not respect Makepeace, but Hammond in any reality is a good man.
"Get checked out, then debrief in an hour, people."
The locker room is hers, first. And she's almost happy about that. A hot shower with the water pounding on her aching shoulders and back is almost enough to bring things into perspective.
A set-back. That's all the fractured mirror was. She was Samantha fucking Carter, and she would NOT fail herself. She would get home and then she would fall apart. Probably on Daniel and Teal'c both until they got tired of it and handed her over to Jack.
That wasn't that unpleasant a prospect, of course. And she could bypass the first two.
Maybe she should try to see Pete again. She is either horny or insane.
Or both.
While she is pulling on her shirt, the alarms sound. Someone was coming in. Habit takes over and she tucks her bootlaces in without tying them and takes off, damp hair trailing down her neck.
Once in the control room, she stands behind Sergeant Harriman, listening and wondering if she is supposed to be there. He shoots her a curious look, but says nothing.
"It's the Tok'ra IDC, General."
"Let them through."
Hammond notices her, gives her a nod. "Major."
"Sir."
He leads the way as they walk back down to the gateroom.
"George!" Her father's voice sounds the same, genial and relaxed. He spots her at the same time as she spots him. "Sam!"
"Dad." She looks past him, uncertain how to feel about this. It's her father, after all. And he might know, he might guess. Except no one else has, so it could be okay.
And then her brain connects with her visual cortex and memory.
Dimly, she wonders if this is what it feels like to get punched in the stomach while simultaneously falling off a cliff.
"Samantha." His deep voice is delighted, his eyes soft with something that makes her want to run.
The few remnants of Jolinar still lurking in her psyche are incredibly glad to see him. Her lips stretch into a smile, and she hopes she looks and sounds somewhat normal. "Martouf."
She should have read everything she could get her hands on. But she'd simply assumed he was dead.
Dead and buried and Lantash and Elliott and it is almost too much.
But there was the Colonel in her head, shaking her. And she wonders if this is a hallucination, then decides it can't be.
Sound snaps back into place and she knows they've been talking, and doesn't care what she's missed.
"I--have things to look into. I'll see you later, Dad. Sir. Martouf."
She hears them as she makes it to the corridor.
"Is Sam ok, George?"
"She just got back from a mission."
One explanation. If only they knew, she thinks as she rapidly walks away. The mission is merely the tip of the iceberg.
Maybe she should have her head examined.
Yeah. That would be a great plan.
Her lab is a refuge, it always has been. Now it's somewhere familiar she can hide when things are too much. Her bench, the cot she slept on so many times while getting the Colonel back from Edora (it was Daniel, this time. That was one of the mission logs she checked in the beginning when she couldn't believe there was no Colonel O'Neill here).
For a moment she stands in the middle of the room, suddenly wondering if one more surprise has made it all so alien she won't be able to cope.
"Sam?"
"Hey, Daniel." She doesn't turn to look at him, simply continues trying to reconcile one life with the other.
"We've got a briefing in five."
"Oh. Right." Now she turns. "Had a chance to look over what you brought back?" She wonders if the quantum mirror was shattered by the jaffa, or if it was a random act on the part of the aliens who owned the lab.
"No, been busy in the infirmary and shower." A grimace. "Brightman says your post-mission physical is scheduled for after the briefing."
Ugh. "Right. I'd almost forgotten."
They leave her lab, because it's expected. They have a briefing, after all. She falls into what feels like normal chatter for the both of them until he asks about the off-world activation. "Dad and... Martouf."
"Ah."
The word conveys a lot of emotion, and she shoots him a sideways glance. She wants suddenly, and quite desperately, to ask him everything. To demand that he tell her who she is and how she's supposed to live this life. But she can't because if she does that there's a padded cell in it for her.
She's not fond of padded cells.
"With Pete gone..." Daniel's voice trails off, almost suggestively.
"No." The answer might be too quick, but she doesn't care. That was a door she closed a hell of a long time ago and she's not opening it again.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." She leaves it at that, and hopes he doesn't press more. This Daniel seems to not know her as well, yet he wants more personal details.
Or maybe her own Daniel simply is too self-absorbed.
A shiver runs through her, and she ignores it.
"Glad you could make it." Makepeace sounds sarcastic.
He's not as good as Jack. "Sorry, sir. I needed to blow-dry my hair." Neither is she, but seven years under his tutelage is almost enough to give any girl a head-start.
"Major, are you trying for insubordination today?"
She stiffens. Insubordination would do bad things for her chances to study the mirror. "No, sir."
"Oh, come on, Makepeace." Daniel's voice is bland. "Sam is more of a model soldier than even you."
She considers this, wonders if the Sam in this reality would have defied orders to take out Apophis' ships. Probably not.
"Gentlemen, Major." Hammond's voice draws them back to the tasks at hand.
A chorus of "Sir's" and "General" makes its way around the room. Teal'c merely inclines his head. Her father is standing behind him, Martouf with him. Everyone sits, Sam falling naturally into her seat next to Makepeace. Daniel on her right and her father and Martouf across from them. Teal'c is already half-asleep in his chair further down the table.
"Colonel Makepeace has already told me that you would like to make a more extensive survey of the artefacts Dr. Jackson." Hammond pauses and looks at her, "And your request for a science team, Major." He seems disturbed about this, but isn't elaborating. "At this time, it is not feasible to do either."
She'd almost expected that. This SGC only has 16 teams, and none of them are solely one thing or the other. She hadn't really wanted to find out what all the reasons for this are.
Daniel is going to object, she thinks.
"General--"
Yep.
"Son, I understand that there could be useful artefacts there. But until we have more lee-way given by the president, we are simply to explore and make contact with other races." Not letting anyone else say anything, he continues. "In the meantime, the Tok'ra are here with a proposal."
"We have recently uncovered something we've considered legend," Martouf says. "The armbands of Antoniak."
Damn. She really should have checked all the mission reports. "Let me guess," her tone is dry, "You want to use us as guinea pigs."
"In essence, Samantha, yes." A smile touches his eyes, "Because of our symbiotes we can not."
"I don't think they'll work on me, either."
"Anise wasn't certain they would. But we will try."
Good. No way for them to understand or find out why it won't work. An immunity to the virus the armbands contain would be really suspicious. Although it would corroborate her story.
"There's another reason we want to make this test. Sokar and Osiris seem to have discovered some new technology. They're building a newer, more advanced ship. We think there's a way to blow it up." Jacob nods at Sam, "We figure you could work it out, Sam."
"Thanks for the confidence." Just a little C4 would be all they'd need. And some luck. It was interesting that her father was the one here. Perhaps Anise had lucked out. Of course, this also meant that the Council couldn't pull a massive double-cross and sucker-punch them into destroying the ship for them. Sokar, though. That would take getting used to.
And Osiris. She wonders if Sarah Gardner is still trapped.
--
Two days later, Makepeace and the boys have destroyed Sokar's new ship. She's not really thinking about that, though. Instead, she's thinking about the files she found. The ones buried so deep she almost never saw them, the ones that immediately began disintegrating. It took fast typing to keep them from being completely destroyed. And even then she isn't sure she wants to think about their meaning.
Research into the quantum mirror has been put aside while she thinks about it.
Collaboration.
It's an ugly word and one she never thought she'd associate with herself.
But there's a party to go to, one to which she's been specifically requested. Something about the brass and funding. She slips into the dark blue dress one of the nurses offered her when she realized she wouldn't have time to go home, wonders briefly if she would have had anything suitable there, and then dismisses all thought and concentrates on one thing.
Be Major Sam Carter.
She feels rusty at it, like it's not who she is anymore (which it isn't). And part of that is the files she found.
But she's not going to think about that.
It's later that night that Catherine Langford corners her in a side room. She'd disappeared into it to catch some air.
"Who are you?"
The words are crisp and calm, the voice speaking them full of latent authority.
But she's been around Jack O'Neill too long. "Who do I look like I am?"
"You're not the Samantha Carter I know. Who. Are. You?"
The words are bitten off, and Sam suddenly realizes that Catherine knows. She doesn't understand how this woman she hasn't seen for years knows, but she feels strangely grateful. "Would you believe me?"
"Yes."
"Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter."
"Really?" There's something mocking about the tilt to Catherine's head.
"I'm from an alternate dimension." Even saying the words gives her pause. Because no one has ever believed her, and if Catherine doesn't, this could mean another two months going endless rounds with the psychs.
"Do you know how I knew you weren't Sam Carter?"
"I came through what's known as a quantum mirror." She pauses, suddenly uncertain. "At least, I think I did. I wasn't exactly awake when it happened."
"The Sam Carter I know is not a very confident woman, or rather, she's not confident in her looks and her self. She's uptight about science, she believes she knows better and never allows any opinion to differ."
"She must have really hated it here."
"And, of course, the most telling thing about the Sam Carter I know is that she would never wear a dress."
"Huh?" Sam blinks. "That's... odd."
"Damn right." Her arms crossed, Catherine eyes her. "A quantum mirror, hrm?"
"Yeah. It... We think it was created by the Ancients, like the stargate network was." Sam pauses. "She doesn't wear dresses?"
"Nope. She thinks it makes her too feminine."
"Is that why she broke it off with Pete?"
"Pete?"
"Boyfriend. We're... well, we were engaged."
"Ah."
"I shouldn't be telling you all of this, should I." She feels bitter. It was so easy to talk to Catherine, to let her guard down.
"Maybe." Her arms still crossed, Catherine looks away. "You want to get back, don't you."
"Desperately."
"How?"
"I'll have to find a quantum mirror." She isn't completely stupid. This might be Catherine, she might now know of her origins, but Sam doesn't feel like she can trust anyone anymore.
Catherine suddenly gives a rueful smile. "They're going to come looking for me soon. I'll call you tomorrow. We can talk more."
"All right."
When Catherine is gone, she finally lets herself sit. Perches on the edge of the table and bends forward. Her hands are shaking. It would be amusing or ironic if the others started believing her now. Especially with the files.
She wasn't going to think about those, but they're unavoidable now.
Major Sam Carter is a goa'uld collaborator. And she's loose in Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter's universe.
The consequences, the destruction that can occur, don't even bear thinking about. But she can't help it. So she slips back into the party, drinks a little too much champagne, and crashes in her lab. The cot is just as uncomfortable as it was during Edora. She's too drunk and tired to care.
--
Bleak landscape, black rocks and grey walls, and white powdered rubble. Daniel is dead at her feet, blood staining the ground vibrant scarlet. Teal'c is a little way off. For a moment, it's almost funny the way his body is all twisted. And then reality sets in, and she understands that his head is twisted unnaturally.
"Oh, god..."
She can't move. She can only stand there, boots slowly becoming washed in a sea of blood as more and more people collapse around her.
These men and women have fought alongside her before in the endless war against the snakeheads. Something inside is clawing at her throat, begging her to scream. But she can only stare at them. Harriman, Paul Davis, Siler... Even General Hammond staggers into her field of vision, before a staff blast twists him around. He lands half on Teal'c.
"Carter!"
The voice is hoarse, as if he's been breathing in smoke and dust. Which he probably has. She tries to turn towards him, half-succeeds until he's in her line of sight.
General Jack O'Neill looks absolutely ragged. At some point he was staff blasted, the charred edges on the right side of his uniform revealing intermittent flashes of whole pale skin. He must have been healed with the healing device, she decides.
"Carter!"
"I'm here."
But she isn't. Oh, dear god, she isn't.
It's a dream, she tries to tell herself. All a dream. You are not watching a different version of yourself pick her way daintily across a battlefield strewn with your friends. But she is. And she knows that the knife Major Carter carries will find itself buried in Jack O'Neill.
"No." Her voice cracks.
They can't hear her.
"No. Damnit, NO! Jack!" She shoves, pushes, tries to get to them.
The other her pauses as she reaches him. She's smiling so normally and trustingly up at the General.
"Jack!"
"Hey, Carter." His hand catches her cheek, brushes through the wispy bits of hair by her ear.
"Hey."
"No." She's still pushing, still screaming.
The other Sam Carter turns, catches her eyes. There's laughter in the sapphire depths. You can't stop me.
"NO!"
Light flashes off the knife as it plunges into his chest.
Crimson blood spurts out as it's jerked free. He begins to fall as the knife goes in again. There is such a look of shock and surprise on his face.
There's blood everywhere, and she doesn't remember moving from where she was held in stasis. Jack's head is in her lap.
"No."
"Carter..."
The light fades from his eyes.
"NO!" Damnit, this was NOT how it was going to end.
With an almost physical wrench, she slams out of the dream, rolling off the cot and landing on the floor.
She's dripping with sweat, shaking and heedless of everything in her lab except the overwhelming need to make this right. To get back there and stop this. To--
There's blood in the air, the shimmery coppery tang coating the back of her throat.
Pain suddenly manifests in her belly, and she doubles over, clutching at it. One hand comes away, and she realizes she's not sticky with sweat. She's sticky with blood. Her own. "Oh, god..."
"Did you not think I would realize?"
The voice is cold and velvet, and she recognizes it, and knows why he is here. "Teal'c."
He moves away from her, probably to clean the blade before using it again. "You are not Major Carter."
"You're--" She drags herself to her knees and tries to stand. Agony collapses her. "--you're the other one."
"My God shall supply all my needs."
There should have been irony. Fuck, but there should have been irony in the flat words. She raises her head to stare at him. "When we came back from Apophis' ship. Bra'tac was already dead, wasn't he?" It's the only thing that makes sense. Without Bra'tac, there would have been no cleansing ritual. Teal'c would have remained loyal to the goa'uld, reporting on the Tau'ri as he saw fit.
His lips curl slightly, sneering. "You are not a fit consort for my lord."
"I wasn't planning on being one." This time she actually succeeds in standing. From the amount of blood soaking the now tattered front of her dress, she wonders if he meant to use 'mauled by tiger' to explain her death. She is bleeding to death, by inches. At least he didn't hit her heart.
The macabre humor gives her some sort of balance, and she moves towards her lab bench. She is suddenly thankful she has always been a packrat.
"I believe--"
"Hey, Major--" Makepeace's voice falters as he stares at her.
"Colonel Makepeace. I have discovered that Major Carter is a goa'uld spy."
"He's lying," Sam says. Her vision is beginning to float, and she wonders if she's allowed to be hysterical about her blood loss. "It wasn't me. It was the other me. And him."
Teal'c moves before she's noticed, and the backhand sends her into the bench. Hitting the floor, she fuzzily wonders if that was two or three ribs she felt crack. Several things fall with her, scattering on the floor. "You will be silent, traitor."
"Now, Teal'c," but Makepeace sounds merely as if he's trying to keep the jaffa from killing her.
He isn't going to believe her.
She's going to die in the next few moments if she doesn't do something.
There's something to be said about being a packrat, she decides as one hand closes on the control device for the mirror. There's also no telling what she's about to do to herself.
"Teal'c is lying," she says, her voice clear and calm. "But I'll leave it up to you to decide what to do about it."
She rolls before the kick he aims can reach her. Rolls until she lands nearly on top of the shard that fell to the floor with her. One glance gives her a storage room in the SGC. Before either of the men have a clue what she's doing, she slams one blood-stained hand onto the glass.
For a moment, nothing happens.
And then her universe is torn to shreds.
--