by ALC Punk!
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White on white. Light spilling everywhere. "Isn't she perfect?"
She doesn't want to turn, doesn't want to see, but she can't move on her own, only he can dictate her limbs. The slow turning makes her skin crawl and she wants to scream. Scream until her throat is ripped to shreds and she chokes on her own blood (let me die).
Blonde hair gleams in the light. She moves and shifts, regarding the naked body she has. "I am perfect."
"Yes, she is."
No. She wants to scream, this is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.
There is only one Samantha Carter. Not two, not three, not this creature with her smile and eyes that are cruel and cold.
No.
"You aren't me."
"Oh, but I am."
Pain drags her from the images, shattering the white on white until she finds herself sprawled on the floor, cold stone at her back, Jack O'Neill perched next to her. "Carter!"
"She isn't me."
Confusion. She knows this isn't right. Or it is right, and the dream was wrong.
"It's all right. We're safe. He doesn't have you anymore." Jack is pale underneath the remnants of his tan, his eyes dark with worry. "Carter, you're safe."
"He - He made a copy of me, Jack." She struggles to sit up and realizes she's shaking.
"It's okay. The copy is dead. He's dead."
"She knows everything I know."
His hands rub her arms, one drifts up to touch her face. "It's all right, Carter. She's gone. It's gone. The Asgard destroyed that ship."
She leans into the hand, refusing to close her eyes. "How?"
"Hrm?"
"Jack." Her hands catch at him, "How did the Asgard get the knowledge before I did?"
His gaze drops.
"Tell me."
"Y'remember the time dilation machine?"
"Oh. Oh shit." Her hands poke and prod, touching him as if to reassure herself that he's there. "You stupid bastard."
"The Replicators had you, I wasn't going to let them win."
Now, she can close her eyes as she leans forward, head resting on his shoulder. "So you let them speed you up, let mere minutes pass for us while days passed for you. What if their calculations were wrong?"
"They weren't."
"But - Jack, I'm not -"
"Don't even think that, Carter."
"Jack -"
"Sam."
Her first name stops her cold, and she pulls back to look at him. "Don't you ever do that again, you jackass. Or I'll kill you myself."
"Hey," his hands cup her face. "You know me."
"Yeah, I do."
"Carter, the floor is cold, can we go back to bed now?"
"Yeah."
It scares her she decides as they curl back up. He risked being permanently altered, damaged, driven insane. And for her.
She was right. He doesn't have to say it.
-
They have breakfast in the mess hall, surrounded by only a few chattering members of the SGC. Most of them stare once or twice, then ignore the two of them.
Jennifer Hailey bounces up to them towards the end, and Sam greets her carefully.
"I made Captain." There is pride in the young woman's voice.
"Congratulations."
They talk about things, all of them technical, and Sam doesn't realize how long they do it until Hailey starts up, looking guilty. "I've got to run, ma'am."
"Take care, Hailey." Sam calls after her. Then she pins her gaze on Jack, who'd contributed to the discussion. "Cassie was right about you."
"Hrm?" He pokes at his cold pancake.
"You understand more than you let on."
"Maybe."
She snorts and reaches out to swipe his last slice of bacon. "You just liked listening to me talk."
"Maybe." He steals half of it back.
"Ma'am, sir, the Generals are waiting for you."
"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Sam snaps, "Can't we finish our breakfast?"
The SF looks embarrassed, "Sorry, ma'am. They're real insistent."
"C'mon, Carter. Time to pay the piper."
"Should be paying us," she mutters as they exit the mess hall.
They're escorted into the briefing room and directed to chairs that are separated. Without needing to even exchange a look, they ignore both and grab two facing the window that looks out into the gateroom.
"I thought I told you to separate them?" Hammond sounds irritated as he arrives.
"Oh, they tried, George, but I prefer sitting next to Carter. She smells better."
"Very well." Several more people file in and take seats, then Hammond starts, "It appears you weren't entirely honest with us."
"Oh, sorry, George, did I forget to mention my favorite color is blue?"
"You left out something very damn big." The General snaps. He makes a gesture, and the large screen tv begins playback.
Sam recognizes it immediately, sound and picture bringing back the cold terror of the night before. Jack's hand is in hers as she reaches out instinctively.
"This, Jack, is what I'm talking about." A fist slams onto the table, "Samantha Carter was captured and tortured by the Replicator Fifth. Not only that, according to her statements to you, he made a copy of her."
"And? I'm not finding this relevant sir. It's over and done with, and you didn't need to know."
We have enough demons, Sam thinks.
"How do you know that the woman sitting in that chair, holding your hand, is the real Samantha Carter?"
What?
"What? You've gotta be kiddin' me!" Jack's indignant yell starts off a cacophony of sound.
I'm me. She wants to scream at them, to yell at them that she is Sam Carter, that she's alive, flesh and blood. "Cut me."
The furor dies down. "Sam -"
"Cut. Me." She meets their eyes, anger in hers. "If you don't believe I'm really human, then lets find out. Right here. Right now." She doesn't remember standing.
"Carter."
"Give me your knife, Jack."
There is dead silence as she slices down the palm of her hand. The cut is shallow, but the blood drips onto the table with a soft pattering sound. She squeezes her fist, stopping the blood flow, and looks up at them. "Satisfied? Because I am. And this is it. We're finished here. You have our reports, you know everything that went on. There's no fucking reason for us to stay here."
"You can't dictate terms."
"Can't I?" Her voice is as cold as the room in Fifth's ship. "I have sacrificed everything for this planet, this galaxy. And you can kiss my ass if you think I'm going to sacrifice more."
They are out the door and striding towards the elevator before one of the SFs tries to stop them.
"Don't." Jack suggests, his tone mild.
The young man swipes his card through the reader and backs off.
"Thanks."
"You can't just leave!" Hammond's anger reaches them first, her dad is right behind him.
"Sam, you're throwing your life away -"
"Fuck both of you."
"Samantha Carter!"
"Dad!" Her voice is louder than his, her anger far greater, "You just don't get it, do you? I don't CARE what the penalties are. I'm sick of giving and getting nothing but pain in return."
"Carter."
She ignores him, suddenly full of a rage she didn't know she could feel. "You remember that camp, Dad? You remember Jack telling you I'd miscarried? Do you know I did it twice? Twice I murdered my own unborn children, to keep them from the life I was living. And you still think I want anything to do with this place? You're fucking nuts."
The rage leaves as swiftly as it came, and she starts shaking a second later. Jack catches her, pulling her against him.
Hammond and Jacob are staring, pale, their eyes full of something she doesn't want to acknowledge. Horror.
"Sam, I had no idea..."
"Please let us go." The words are a whisper.
"We can't."
Her eyes close and she sags against Jack.
"Remove them to their quarters." Hammond sounds tired as he gives the order.
"Er, sir..."
"Don't bother trying to separate them, son, just take them back there."
Carters don't cry, she thinks fiercely as she follows Jack, his hand towing her like so much flotsam.
Jack puts them to bed, still as silent as he was in the corridor, letting her fight her own battle - external and internal. Finally, she sighs. "Well, that was pointless."
"Yep." His grip tightens. "Go to sleep, Mrs. O'Neill."
She blinks, "I don't remember a ceremony."
"What? Daniel never told you?" He kisses her neck and settles down. "We've been married since I bought you with my Beretta."
"You ass."
"Yours."
"Mhmm. Mine." Relaxing, she closes her eyes. "Mr. Carter."
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