Title: Outside the Lines: Dawn
Author: Annerb
Rating: Teens
Summary: How far would you go to make your world right again?
Classifications: Action/Adventure, Drama, Angst, S/J
Season: 4 (Alternative storyline for 'Chain Reaction')
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-1, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

Dawn

Samantha Carter sat on the edge of her bed as the fourth day since Jack's death dawned brilliantly over the sycamores. She stared out her window, not seeing the streaking colors, not hearing the delicate song of the morning birds.

Somewhere in the night all grief had fled, replaced by growing steely determination. Now she sat, perched on the edge of a decision. No matter which road she chose, she knew her life would never be the same.

That was fine by her.

Behind her, the bed was covered in various objects she had collected during the night. Papers, munitions, and a briefcase among them. A new life, if she wanted it.

But what did she really want?

Yesterday she had wandered appropriately through Jack's wake, sticking close to Janet, Daniel and Teal'c. Playing the role of the ice queen that she had developed over the years. Daniel had fluttered near her at all times, but he needn't have bothered. Sam was far from breakdown at that point. She was quietly counting the seconds, forcing herself to enjoy the calm, knowing what was coming.

At dusk she had left the party, aware of the sedan that followed her home. Let the games begin, she'd thought wryly.

Entering her home, she'd gone straight to her safe, extracting the simple envelope Jack had pressed into her hands. She trembled for a moment, not really wanting to know what it said. Did it hold the answers she needed? Were there words in here that she had secretly longed to hear for so long? Would they still mean anything?

Grabbing a letter opener, she slashed the envelope open. A single sheet of paper covered in black, scrawled writing and a key poured out onto her carpet. She grabbed the key first. It was a small silver key with an orange knob attached to it with a safety pin. The number 198 was etched into the plastic. Property of Denver City Bus Station.

She set it aside and turned her attention to the letter.

Carter-

I'm doing everything I can to stop this, but if you're reading this, then more than likely I failed. I'm sorry. This isn't the way I wanted it to go down. Especially since I have now left you and the guys in even more danger. I've set up everything you'll need. God, I'm sorry, Carter. I did everything I could think of to keep you from this.

But I know you can do this, Carter. You're the one thing I've always had faith in, even when everything else has gone to crap.

I'm sorry I can't be there to watch your six.

-Jack

P.S. Never look back, Carter. Never look back.

The note now lay crumpled on her bed spread. She had read it a hundred times during the long night, knowing what he was asking.

By midnight, Sam had finally realized that the black sedan half a block down from her house was not leaving. She knew she should just wait, but the key was burning a hole in her hand and there was suddenly overwhelming urgency. So instead of sitting tight like a good little girl, she had dressed in black, shoving her gun in at the small of her back, and slipped on an empty knapsack. She climbed out the back fence, slinking through her neighbors' yards, slowly making her way to the closest major street.

She'd grabbed a cab to the bus station in Denver. By the time she'd reached the station it was nearly three in the morning. A few stranded travelers slept restlessly on benches while pickpockets and the homeless wandered the echoing spaces. No one gave Sam a second glance.

She cautiously opened locker number 198. One cursory glance revealed three 9-mils and ammunition, which she quickly swept into her backpack. Zipping it back up and swinging it on her back, she grabbed the last item in the locker, a black briefcase. She ran one hand over the interior of the locker, searching for anything else, but came away empty. She slammed the locker shut and walked away without a backwards glance.

Two hours later she slipped back into her house, a quick glance out the front revealing that her stalkers were still in place.

Retreating back to her room, she allowed herself to inspect the stockpile Jack had created. The guns and case were covered in a thick layer of dust, telling Sam that this wasn't a recent collection. He had been prepared for something to happen.

Sam was surprised to find that the case held a small fortune in cash. Ones, fives, twenties and hundreds in neat stacks. She ran her hand over the piles, not bothering to wonder were it had all come from.

A pocket in the lid revealed various documents: passports, licenses, social security cards. Sam opened the first passport to find her own face staring back at her. Stacy Miller. The next showed Daniel's picture. Lance Sterling. She had to suppress a smile, knowing Jack had carefully picked that name just to annoy Daniel. The moment quickly turned into a burning emptiness in her stomach, so she turned it aside and grabbed the next, which she knew would reveal Teal'c. Mark Evans. Sam forced herself to open the fourth passport. Jack's face smiled gently out at her, the smile that seemed to say: 'I know something you don't!' She ran her fingers over his face, glancing at the name he'd chosen for himself. John Patrick. Good Irish name, she mused.

The briefcase represented what Jack wanted for them. A whole new life.

It meant one thing to Sam. Jack was certain that Hammond had been forcibly removed. He had been murdered. Sam could barely think the word without bile rising in the back of her throat. With Hammond gone, the way had been made for Bauer and his policies to take sway at the SCG. There had only been one more hurdle in the way. One more wildcard that could prevent the total take over of the SGC by people with a more nefarious agenda.

Jack O'Neill.

As dawn gradually peeked its head into Sam's bedroom, she was faced with the horrible truth. The new SG-1 had been hand picked and not by Jack. They had never intended for Jack to return from that first mission. And he'd known it.

Murdered.

Sam pushed off the edge of the bed and ran for her bathroom, heaving violently into the toilet. She lay there for what seemed like hours, her head pressed to the cool porcelain.

Hammond and Jack. Murdered.

It was clear that Jack wanted her to take Teal'c and Daniel and get them as far away from the SGC as she could. He wanted them to live, to keep each other safe. It was his last request of her. He didn't want her to end up crashing her car into a tree one night or falling on alien soil with only traitorous strangers for company. He wanted better for them.

Never look back, Carter. Never look back.

He wanted her to run and forget.

Sam pushed up from the hard floor and rinsed her face and mouth. Glancing up at the mirror she stared hard at herself.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said to her reflection. "That's the one thing I can't do."

Returning to her room, she carefully packed everything inside of the case and shoved it under her bed. She put on her uniform that was now a badge of betrayal.

She would make this right. Or die trying.