Chapter Six: Discovering the Cure to Doppleganger
Jack hadn't liked keeping Carter locked up. But there needed to be proof. Proof that would carry more weight with the Pentagon than their gut instincts. Certainty. Of course, this was the SGC - as far from stability and certainty as you could get. Proof that would over-ride her certain accusation of sour grapes on his part. But he doesn't like to think of that.
Daniel would have objected, but Daniel didn't know. In some ways, the General was glad Daniel was still out with SG-10 studying rocks. He'd needed the break -- what with the constant suspicion and worry. Their Carter was not right. Sometimes, Jack wishes he had noticed in the beginning. Then...
He liked to think he was smart. Tried to act dumb (usually successful). But underneath he was, inherently, intelligent. And he knew this about himself. Still does.
But she had been damn good at fooling them. She'd led SG-1 well, didn't blow anything up that she shouldn't have--and she'd dumped Pete.
Not at first, of course.
On, no. She'd waited until she was certain of the General.
Certainty, again.
He likes to think he would have caught on with a little more from her -- but Teal'c's death had distracted him. The grief had hit them hard (and they'd thought she was upset, too). It left him twisting, vulnerable.
--
"First Janet, now Teal'c."
He can still hear the pain in her voice, the tears she was crying into her beer.
"Who's next? You? Me? Daniel?"
"Nah."
Her eyes had met his, her gaze suddenly focused and clear. "I don't want to lose this."
"So don't." The hoarseness in his voice was the beer, he'd convinced himself.
--
Months later and he still wonders if he could have known.
It was Daniel who came to him, who fidgeted with the paperweight on Jack's desk until the silence was finally too long. "I think... Sam's off."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." He set the ball of glass with the tiny people in it down on the desk. "I can't put a finger on it."
"Huh." Something that felt like dread touched him. "Ya know, T said something similar to me. I didn't take him seriously."
And the two men had looked at each other. Even now, Jack wonders if they were suspicious then, or merely paranoid.
"Jack..."
"Daniel, Teal'c is dead."
The archeologist's hand grabbed the snowglobe again. "It isn't your fault, Jack."
Carter had said -- if it was Carter, if it wasn't a Carter from a mirror universe or something more sinister -- that there wasn't anything of Teal'c to bring back. Nothing to bury, no body to mourn. Teal'c was just dead.
"So... we think something's wrong."
"Maybe."
"How do we tell?"
"Well..."
They had been saved by the sudden klaxon of an unauthorized off-world activation. It was Jonas, arriving for diplomatic talks with the Pentagon. Without needing to discuss it, Jack and Daniel kidnaped the diplomat for beer and pizza, citing team solidarity.
Carter seemed amused that they wanted to make a Guys' Night Out of it, but didn't object more than they would have expected.
"You what?" Jonas stared between the two of them. "You think Colonel Carter is a goa'uld?"
"Well, no." Trying not to look as uncomfortable as wild, unfounded paranoia should have made him, Jack shifted. "We just -- she seems -- off."
"Guys, Teal'c just died."
"Yeah, we know, Jonas. Just... when you see her, treat her normally and don't let on --"
"That I think she's a spy?" Damn. Jonas had learned sarcasm from the master. "I'll try not to, General O'Neill. Really."
Unfortunately for Jonas' sarcasm, he quickly proved himself wrong. The report he gave them after coming back from Washington and working with Sam in her lab for a short time was given to them at a strip club.
Lots of flashing tassels, dollar bills, and conspiracy theories.
"It's not our Sam."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. I don't know where she came from, but... She doesn't belong here."
"Ah."
--
And now they have their own Carter back. He stands in the doorway of the infirmary, and watches her. Jonas left her curled on the bed when he was called off to talk to Washington. She's facing the other way and he just stares at her, drinking in the sight of her, alive. Not whole, but alive.
"How did you know?"
The words catch him by surprise. She hasn't moved, and he wonders how she knows he's there, then doesn't care. "Carter--"
"Jack."
He can't get used to this, he thinks. She isn't supposed to call him that (despite him asking her to do so on numerous occasions, he'd eventually stopped asking), but he lets it pass. "Carter, we... We figured it out after Teal'c died."
"Ah."
He wants, suddenly, to hold her again.
"Jack, how's the system sweep going?"
"You were right about Felger. He may be an idiot, but he knows his code." When people weren't looking over his shoulder, anyway. It looks like the few bugs she put there have been taken care of. Messages have been sent to the Tok'ra, inquiring about possible defecters to any goa'uld forces from their side. And to find Jacob Carter. If the Tok'ra are even listening.
"Good." She still hasn't looked at him.
Without his own volition his hand touches her shoulder, "Carter -- Sam." And he stops, because he isn't sure what he wants to say.
She turns and looks at him, and he's scared by how tired she looks. Dark circles under her eyes like bruises, and a scratch on her cheek. "Is Janet still alive?"
"No." He bows his head, "The damn goa'uld killed her."
Her eyes close, "I suppose we wouldn't have gotten her back to her own universe anyway."
There's a dullness to her. "You've given up."
"I'm dying, Jack."
"You keep saying that. Stop it."
"Ignoring it won't make it go away. Traveling through a shattered quantum mirror did something to my DNA, Jack. And traveling to get here just made it worse. I don't need to hear the doctors tell me there's no cure." She looks away from him again, "Entrophic Cascade Failure might have been less painful."
"Stop that."
"Fine." She closes her eyes and turns away, hunching her shoulders. "Go away."
He surprises himself by going. But there are things to do, so he goes. The Pentagon needs more debriefing.
--
Two days have passed since she arrived in her own universe. She is getting worse, the deterioration in her cells not quite apparent, but she knows the doctors have no cure. Even Brightman doesn't do more than look resigned.
Major Davis has arrived from the Pentagon to debrief her. He's spending time talking with her other self, a woman who is deteriorating with every hour.
Sam feels no sympathy for her. She can't.
Feeling sympathy for the woman who stole her life is anathema.
Jack hasn't visited her, and she wonders whether that hurts more or less now that she's here in her own universe. And she still can't have him. Jonas has talked to her several times, in and around his own duties. Apparently, he's now assigned permanently to the SGC as the Kelownan liaison. The Pentagon, he has said, is considering reassigning her. Citing her unreliability, the months gone...
It doesn't matter. She's dying, even if they won't believe it.
"Carter."
His voice is welcome in her silence, and she looks at him. "Hey."
There's no smile on his face, no warmth in his eyes, he just looks tired. "She's dead."
I'm dead, you're dead, we're all dead. The echoing refrain filters through her brain. "Ah. I..." I'm not sorry. She can't lie about it. Not even now. "So..."
"You broke up with Shanahan." It's abrupt, but he's kind of fidgeting. "I mean -- she did. Back..."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Oh?"
He's still restless, and she suddenly wonders why he can't meet her eyes. And then she knows. "You fucked her, didn't you." She still feels brittle. As if one false move and she'll come apart at the seams.
"No. Yes. Ah, crap."
She doesn't have to look at him to know he's scrubbing at his face as if trying to change something. "It makes sense. It's what made you wonder, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"And why you didn't just lock her up." So much was painfully clear now. "You were afraid she'd level a sexual harassment charge against you, that it would twist everything up. You needed proof."
"Carter, I'm not going to apologize. I thought she was you."
"I know." She closes her eyes. She can't hate him, can only feel hurt (which is irrational). It's too hard to hate Jack O'Neill. He was the life-line and anchor to her search for her home. Hating him seems pointless. "Go away, Jack. Let me die in peace."
--
General Jacob Carter arrives the next day, his worry and concern for his daughter over-riding Tok'ra rules about dealing with the Tau'ri. Defunct treaty or not, they're still on the same side of the war. He corners Jack an hour after seeing her.
"How the hell did this happen?"
Jack runs his hands over his face. "We're still not sure. Were you able to try the healing device on her?"
"Yeah. Selmac says there's no go." Jacob sounds frustrated. "The amount of damage is too much to fix. But..."
"But?" Any hope in the storm.
"There is a way, Jack. But you're not gonna like it."
"Carter is dying. There's a hell of a lot I don't like about that."
Jacob sighs. "We could let her join with a symbiote. Since this seems to be similar to cancer, a --"
"No." Jack can't believe Jacob's even suggesting this. "You know your daughter, Jake. There's no way in hell she'd take a symbiote."
"Even if she's dying?" Jacob raises an eyebrow.
And Jack has to look away, because this is suddenly a situation turned the other way around. Last time, it was her pleading with him. He refuses to do this to her. "I can't ask Carter to do it, sir."
"I'm not saying you do, General," the Tok'ra's voice is dry. "This is a decision she needs to make on her own."
"General!" Jonas Quinn bursts into the room, bouncing.
Jack doesn't want to think about the energy required to fuel a happy, let alone exuberant, Jonas. "What?"
"I know you're busy, General, but I think I have an idea."
"For?" Impatience was always his besetting sin.
"Saving Sam," Jonas waves his notebook (a ubiquitous thing, Jack doesn't think he's ever seen the Kelownan without it), "Remember Nirrti's machine?"
"Vividly." And Carter, dying because of it.
"It manipulates DNA. Now, this degradation appears to be similar to the destablization that was exhibited by those Nirrti was experimenting on."
"And?"
Jonas sucked in a breath, "And I think it's close enough that the machine could fix her."
"That's great. One problem." Damn, he hates this. "Eggar said he'd destroy the machine."
"Well..." Jonas shrugs, "Maybe he hasn't. Look, General, what do we have to lose -- just let me contact Eggar and Wodan, and see if it's possible."
"All right." It was hope, of a sort. "But no one says a word to Carter until we know."
"Right." And Jonas bounces off to the control room.
Jacob sighs. "Does he run on Energizers?"
"Yeah." Jack made a face. "I should go visit Carter. Call the President. Something like that."
"What you should do is get some sleep, Jack."
"Yeah." Like that would happen.
--
Sam is numb again, emotionally drained and completely over crying. She likes being numb. It means she doesn't display this distressing tendency to cry on people. A part of her finds it ironic that she has survived nearly a year in a mirror universe, and it's the coming back that's killing her.
It's been at least three days since she reappeared in her own universe. Her condition is deteriorating -- she doesn't need the doctors to tell her that. She can feel her body slowly unraveling, piece by piece.
There was a time she would have laughed at something like this.
Sam Carter has very little laughter left.
Major Davis spoke with her for hours on her second day. Explaining that, for the time being, the Air Force wasn't certain whether her status with them would remain the same or whether she'd be discharged, ferried home. Left to rot until she died -- not that he said that. But he was thinking it. There'd been pity in his eyes as he looked at her. And she hated that. She didn't want anyone's pity.
Ironically, she'd been dead since the day she woke up in the mirror universe. This was just the inevitable catching up.
"Sam?" The voice is tentative, but she recognizes it before Daniel Jackson steps into her field of view. A tentative smile is on his lips. "Hey."
"Daniel."
One of his hands settles on her forehead, brushing upwards to touch her hair as if he's convincing himself she's really there. "So..."
"Heard you were out with one of the teams."
"Yeah. Jack... Thought I'd be useful there."
He's tan, she notices. And looks healthy and fit. "Had fun?"
"Yeah, there's this variation in the hindu language we came across on the ruins, and I think it proves that --" he stops himself, smiling deprecatingly. "But you'll get bored if I keep rambling."
"No. It's... It's ok. It distracts me." From dying.
"Look, Sam. Jonas thinks there's a way to cure you. But, well... Jack thinks you might not want to go through with it."
"I won't take a symbiote, Daniel. Ever." Not now, even while her life depends on it, would she risk that hell on earth again. Not while she has a breath left in her to protest the invasion and destruction of self that would occur.
"No. We know." His hand touches her hair again, then drifts down to pick up one of hers. "I know I wasn't, er, here for it. But do you remember the machine Nirrti had?"
"Yeah." Hard to forget the feeling that your body was ripping itself apart.
"Jonas contacted the guy there -- uh, Wodan, I think. And he said they didn't destroy the machine. And, well, they think it might cure you."
A shiver passes through her. She can remember seeing her DNA spread out like a road map to be shifted and changed. All for the pleasure of a parasite masquerading as a Goddess. "What's the catch?"
"The catch, Colonel," Dr. Brightman's voice is firm as she appears, "is that I don't think you'll survive the trip through the stargate. I'm afraid I can't authorize this."
"Fuck. You."
Daniel looks surprised at the language. "Sam --"
"Doc. Daniel. This might save my life, correct?" She laughs, and then has to fight down a wave of nausea. "Gah. I'm dying. If I survive the trip, fine. If I don't, fine. At least I'll die fighting it. Instead of sitting here, wasting my life away 20 floors underground!"
Brightman looks at her for a moment, then nods, lips tight. "Very well."
With effort, Sam sits up. "Let's get this show on the road."
Daniel slides an arm around her waist and she stands, swaying slightly. "Jesus, Sam."
"Hard to keep on weight when your body is self-destructing, Daniel."
"Uh-huh."
They journey to the gateroom in silence, she leans on the wall and tries not to think of anything resembling hope.
Hope means life. Which means she'll have sessions with MacKenzie, or some other pet psychologist. Life means a possibility of never getting her job back. Or only in a diminished capacity. No gate travel, only lab work. And while that worked in the other universe, this was her home, and it was her life. Is her life.
"General," Daniel calls as they stop in front of the ramp. "We're ready to go."
The gate flushes to life, the chevrons locking swiftly. Perhaps it's a new program her other self designed. She doesn't know, and doesn't care right now. Daniel's arm is the only thing that keeps her upright as they go up the ramp.
Stepping into the cold of the wormhole blankets out her senses. And then she is falling.
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