Chapter Seven: Fixing the Solution
Holding tight to the suddenly unconscious body, Daniel scans the horizon, finally spotting Jonas walking towards them.
With care, he lifts Sam into his arms, disturbed again by how fragile she feels, and begins walking towards the Kelownan.
Jonas meets him and helps Daniel carry Sam to the palace where the machine is still installed. Wodan and Eggar are not the twisted freaks they were before. Now, they seem almost human. Wodan is waiting as they approach the door. "She is still alive?"
"Yes."
"Good." His face is troubled as he looks at the unconscious bundle that is Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter. "It would be a waste for one such as she to never be fully whole again."
The two men don't answer him, and all three quickly make their way to the chamber.
Eggar is waiting for them in the room. He looks at them and sighs. "You will have to hold her up in the machine. Hopefully, this will not cause a problem."
Neither of them ask. They want Sam back. Any complications might dampen their hope. Jonas and Daniel each take a side, propping her up. And then the machine takes hold, DNA spins out in holographic form, dancing to the whims of the man at the controls. A shudder passes through Sam.
"Whoa." Daniel tightens his grip and frowns. "She's really not doing well."
"Her patterns are badly fractured, but I believe I can re-align them properly." Eggar says, his voice distant.
Time passes, and Daniel can feel the machine working, its field occasionally brushing across his fingers, or Jonas's. The Kelownan watches the man at the controls avidly. Finally, it seems to be over. The light-show shuts down.
"There. I have re-integrated everything." Then the man frowns, "Except..."
"What?"
"The machine's field incorporated two separate strands of DNA from the two of you. You were too close."
"So, it mixed with Sam's?" Jonas sounds worried.
"Not precisely." He tips his head, "I think she's now pregnant with a combination of your DNA."
Daniel is pretty sure he isn't the only one gaping. Jonas finds his voice first, though, "Mine and Dr. Jackson's?"
"Yes."
"Sam is... pregnant."
"Possibly," Eggar looks rueful. "I know so little about the workings of this machine. Even three years of study have not shown me everything." A sigh from him, "It is probably some sort of fail safe mechanism."
A groan comes from Sam, and they all look at her as she opens her eyes, body still held up. "Guys?"
"Hey, Sam." Jonas smiles. "How ya feelin'?"
"Like I got run over by Prometheus." She smiles back weakly. "So it worked?"
"We think so," Daniel says, his voice cautious. He coughs. "Uh, Sam, there could be a problem."
"Oh?"
"There's... a possibility you're pregnant with a combination of Jonas' and my DNA."
Sam blinks at him, then looks at Jonas. And then she laughs. The sounds isn't happy, but there's not as much of a bitter edge as Daniel is expecting. He takes it as a good sign.
"C'mon, Dr. Jackson. Let's get the Colonel back to the SGC."
"Sounds like a plan."
--
The tests have all come back good. The machine fixed her. Sam Carter sits in the infirmary, and stares at Major Davis. He looks uncomfortable.
"Just tell me, Davis. I'm not going to bite."
"I'm afraid, Colonel, that the Pentagon and Air Force have decided that you are to be taken off active duty until such time as your physical, mental and emotional health has been ascertained. There will be a decision made then as to the final dispensation you receive." He sighs.
She swallows, "They're kicking me out, aren't they?"
"I... I'm sorry. It looks that way."
"No, I... I should have expected it." She forces a smile, "So, who do I need to see first?"
-
Her father has to leave, to return to the Tok'ra, and convince them to re-join the Tau'ri in the fight. She wishes him luck, then settles down to await the inevitable testing.
Three weeks of being poked and prodded mentally and physically, and she's almost ready to scream at them all to go away. And then, finally, they're done. Reports filed, statements sent, and it's up to Major Davis to tell her the news.
Sam tries to convince herself it's good, but as soon as he steps into the room they gave her down the hall from the infirmary, she knows it isn't.
"I'm sorry." The file in his hand isn't all that thick as he hands it to her.
There's a letter on top of it, but her eyes aren't steady enough to read the ornate script. "Just lay it out, Davis. I can't... read this. I can't take it all in visually."
"You're being medically discharged from the Air Force."
She's expected that. There would be know way to keep her in, not knowing what could have been done to her. Whether the cell deterioration might have had lasting effects or not. It still hurts. She was so eager to get home, where she could continue with her life and go from Lieutenant Colonel to Colonel and General. "What else?" Because there has to be an else, or he wouldn't look so uncomfortable.
"There is currently an argument as to what to do with you, Colonel." He winces, "The NID are claiming that you need to be completely de-briefed by one of their top brainwashing experts."
"Oh, god." She feels sick. The NID will want to pull her apart into pieces, her life spread on a canvas for all to see. And there is still corruption in the agency, or the Trust would never have been able to operate as it had. "Please tell me that's being fought."
"Generals Hammond and O'Neill are both strident in their objections," Paul pauses, and his voice turns dry, "General O'Neill has been quite vocal and descriptive about what he believes should be done to the NID if they're allowed to get their hands on you. Agent Barrett is also one of the objectors."
"What else?"
"The Pentagon wishes for you to stay working on the Stargate Program, possibly heading up the laboratory and science departments. There is also consideration as to whether they would rather hire you for the Groom Lake facility." He coughs, "All of this is contingent on you agreeing to still work for them, of course."
But no going through the stargate again. She can feel the stipulation in the air, and wants to cry. But Samantha Carter is past tears. "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I."
"Well, you do," his tone softens, "You have the credentials to join almost any research program out there, work as a consultant, you name it."
"But they wouldn't be alien technology."
"No."
A shuddering breath, and she is better. "I want the SGC, Davis."
He smiles, "I knew you would."
"But. Don't put me in charge. I hate paperwork almost as much as General O'Neill."
"Yes, ma'am." Major Davis steps back and salutes her, posture stiff. "It was an honor serving with you, Lieutenant Colonel Carter. I hope things turn out well."
"Thank you." She returns the salute and sits silently as he leaves, then looks down at the folder. There's a lot of reading ahead of her. For better or for worse, she should probably do it.
--
Another day, and this time, she almost doesn't want to know the outcome. She's nervous, sitting in the General's office, waiting for the call from the President. Daniel is sitting next to her, Jonas behind them while the General plays with a pen, fiddling.
"Sam?" Daniel breaks the silence.
"Hrm?"
"I'm really glad you're back."
"Me, too," Jonas pipes up.
She glances between the two of them. "Guys, it's okay. Just because I'm now pregnant with your child... I'm not angry, all right? Frustrated, yes. Angry, no."
Daniel relaxes slightly, "Well, that's good."
The General makes a sound (and she has to think of him as the General, since it's pretty clear he doesn't want anything else to do with her), and she glances at him. "Sir?"
"Cut the sir, Carter." He looks down at the pen, "You were calling me Jack."
"Yeah." She wants him to meet her eyes. When he doesn't, she glances away and finds Daniel looking at them both with an odd expression. "So. How's the SGC been since I ended up in a different universe?"
"Oh, there's been a few crises. Saved the world, I think, once, twice? Jack, you'll have to remind me." Daniel shifts, "And, of course, we lost people, too."
"Like Teal'c," she whispers, misplaced guilt filling her. If she'd been faster at finding the quantum mirror. If she'd just -- gone through, instead of waiting longer. If, if, if. A thousand ifs, and she can't take them back or change them, so this is her reality.
"Carter, that --" the phone rings, and Jack glares at it. "O'Neill. Yes, sir. Uh-huh. Uh-huh." He looks at her, "Over my dead body, sir. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Thank you, sir." He drops the red phone back into the cradle. "Carter, you've officially been hired as a civilian contractor to the SGC. Your duties will include being co-commander of the science geeks." He pauses, "And my liaison with that department."
This, she thinks, she can handle. "Good to know, sir."
"Stop that, Carter."
"Yes. Jack."
A slight smile touches his lips, then is gone. "Daniel. You're in charge of the archeologists as of today. And Dr. Svetlana Markhov will be joining the SGC in a week to be Carter's co-commander."
"What about the NID, General?" Jonas is fidgeting.
"The President understands our position, and they will not be allowed access to Carter." A smirk crosses Jack's face. "Seems he don't like them anymore than we do."
"Good." She shouldn't feel so relieved. "So. What now?"
"Now, Colonel, we take you home, and help you clean and dust. And tomorrow, Cassie will be coming back from school for the weekend, and we're throwing a barbecue." The General stands, "Walter!"
"Sir." The bespectacled figure of O'Neill's secretary-cum-assistant appears in the doorway.
"My calendar is cleared, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. See that it stays that way."
-
It's not supposed to be this easy, she thinks. Of course, it isn't. Standing on her back porch three days after getting her final orders, she can feel the wind whispering along her skin. The wind that belongs to her reality feels different. Or maybe that's simply wishful thinking. So much to take in at once. She is home. Teal'c is dead, Janet, too. And she is pregnant with a child she didn't have any involvement in conceiving.
She would laugh if she didn't think she would break into a thousand pieces while doing so.
"Carter?"
"What did I do to Cassie, Jack?" Her voice almost breaks. But she is tired of crying, and so she controls it.
"I'm not sure --"
"Don't lie."
He sighs, and a hand settles on her shoulder. "The other you, I think... I'm not sure. But you and Cassie need to talk, Carter. This can't stay like this."
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't fair."
She turns and looks at him. "What, like you sleeping with her isn't fair?"
The stiffness in his features makes her want to claw the words back, but this isn't about being nice. On some level, it's about being honest. "Look, Carter --"
"Just don't. You fucked her, and you're not sorry. Ok? I get it, Jack. I get it so much it hurts."
"I didn't want it to be like this."
Her laugh is ragged, "At least that's honest."
"So is this."
The kiss is anything but sweet. They're both angry and full of pain and bitterness. She almost bites his lip as she twists against his mouth.
This is routine, she thinks dimly.
She has wanted this man for ten years, off and on, give or take. He is the talisman which kept her sane in a universe not her own. And yet, the kiss is almost routine (clashing teeth and all), her hands threading into his hair, tugging it into peaks and valleys, feels normal. Stretching her body against him, languidly gasping as his hand goes up her shirt -- all of it feels like something she does every day.
There is passion, but it reminds her of sitting up late at night, staring at the stars.
Something remote, to be touched gently and then left.
The movement of his hand against her skin is rough, but sure. He draws his fingers up her body and cups her breast, moving his thumb swiftly over her nipple.
A moan breaks from her throat, and she jerks away, gasping.
"Carter --"
"Shut up." Her lips reclaim his, and she pushes against him, grinding her hips into his as fire licks along her nerves from where his fingers are. This is not routine anymore. This is Jack O'Neill, and she has waited more than ten months to get back to him and fuck him until he begs for mercy. She doesn't care anymore about her career, or whether he screwed another version of herself. She just wants him, something that, for a tiny moment in time, will be hers.
He breaks away long enough to mumble, "Bedroom?"
The request is sane, she thinks. It's probably better to have sex in her bed, instead of out here in the cool air, where her neighbors might look over the tall fence. But she doesn't want him in her bed, yet. She wants to claim him as hers, out here. Where she's certain the other her didn't have him. There are very few things she understands about the other Sam Carter, one of them is that semi-public sex was probably not something she did.
Still. "Where did she have you go?"
The question is awkward, and he shifts, "Um. Bed."
"Ah." Her hand goes down the front of his pants. "I don't want to fuck you in her bed."
A groan escapes him, and she finds herself pressed into the railing. This isn't bad, and she arches into him, relishing the feel of him against her.
By the time her pants are around her ankles, she's already wet, her body begging for this release. The first time he thrusts into her, she almost screams at the way it feels. Alive. She is alive, and he is alive. And his skin is soft to the touch.
This is life, she thinks, as he lifts her slightly, adjusting the angle. She worries about his knees for a moment, then is lost as his mouth fastens on one of her nipples.
She doesn't remember her shirt being off, but the cool air brushing her skin is raising goose bumps. The added sensation makes her writhe, one leg coming up to wrap around his waist, the other keeping her balanced as she arches against the railing. He switches breasts, and slows down, the rhythm becoming disjointed and almost wrong. "Harder." Her voice breaks on a moan.
"Too much," he manages.
Before she can ask, he is coming inside of her, grunting against her breast.
The silence is immediate, and they stand there, his cock buried inside of her, slowly softening, semen beginning to slide out of her. "Carter, I..."
A laugh escapes her, broken and brittle, and then she is shaking against him, not crying. She is not crying. And this is not funny. It's not funny, she thinks as he lowers them down and slides two fingers into her. The action is sharp and she suddenly stops, her breath cut off as his lips close on a nipple again.
It doesn't take him long, and she's almost frightened by the intensity of her orgasm. But then, ten months without sex is enough to make anyone come hard.
When she drifts back, he's moving down her body, lips and tongue leaving wet trails across her flesh, and then his mouth is where his thumb was. "Jack --" Her breath catches and her hips move against him.
This time, he is slow, then fast, then slow until she is begging for release, her voice taut with need. His fingers move inside of her even slower until the excruciating precision is too much and she breaks into a hundred thousand pieces, his name on her lips. She didn't used to think she was one to cry out when she came. But she's accepting of the change.
He moves, until he is settled next to her, his head on her shoulder. There is something self-satisfied about him.
"You're mine," she says, sitting up abruptly and turning to look down at him.
"There was ever a question?"
"Maybe. Pete -- I... I was settling, for Pete."
"Yep."
Honesty, she thinks, is raw and open. And painful. "I'm not even sure I like you."
"Well, I definitely like you." His hand slides down her side, making her shiver. "I like your mind and your lips and your brain, and your legs, and the way you make me incoherent because I have no fucking clue what you just techno babbled at me."
"You like me." She half-smiles, "I suppose that's a start."
"And your porch is cold and hard." He makes a face, "Can we move this inside, Carter? I'm old."
"I know."
They help each other up, taking advantage of the situation to grope and kiss -- and lick, at least once -- until they're moving slowly towards her back door.
"So... You're going to be okay with all of this?"
She stops inside and looks back at him, knowing he can't quite see her eyes. "Yes." And it's a lie. But it can become the truth. She just has to want it enough.
--