two
Sam can't remember exactly whose idea it was to begin with. She thinks maybe Daniel said something (It's going to be hard for him, being all by himself) and that started the ball rolling. Maybe the actual idea was hers, the thought that if they were all cloned Jack wouldn't be alone and they'd be there as a sort of 'backup' if they were ever needed.
It took her exactly ten minutes after waking up in her thirteen year old body to realize it was a really, really dumb idea. Possibly her dumbest idea ever.
Maybe she'd imagined in some twisted, illogical part of her brain, that without the military between them they could just be… them. Them. She'd liked the idea of them at one time. She used to lie awake in the dark and imagine his eyes and his hands and his smile. She had shivered inside when he looked at her, and when his eyes softened she thought she might melt.
Now Sam is fourteen and older than ever, and she doesn't know if she made the right decision. She didn't count on his bitterness, or her own regrets. Didn't bargain on the awkwardness or unease. She also hadn't thought about Janet, Daniel and Teal'c.
She wonders when exactly she fell out of love.
---
Janet's elbow is digging into her ribs and Daniel's thigh is hot against her own. Being young again means four of them can pile into the back of a car, all arms and legs and hips that still have no shape. From her seat in the middle she can see both their profiles – old and young.
The cloned Jack – she can call him Jack now – looks surprisingly young today. His scrawny shoulders and too long neck emphasize the stubborn defiance in his chin; he's not happy or comfortable, but Sam forgot how to talk to him so she can't ask him what's wrong. He stares out the window, ignoring them all, and she wonders how he feels – at least she had a choice about being cloned. She turns away when her eyes burn, and looks at the Colonel driving the car.
She studies the man she remembers, surprised at his age. She doesn't remember his hands being so big or his shoulders so hunched. She wonders what she'll look like now; whether the three gray hairs she found have multiplied, and whether the sunspot on her left hand has gotten bigger.
Sam looks at her palm. Her skin is smooth and soft; inside she feels anything but.
---
It must have been her idea, Sam thinks as she follows the Colonel down a familiar hall. No one else would have an ego big enough to think she might be irreplaceable. Daniel is walking next to her, and he stumbles over nothing, jostling her. Actually, she amends, Daniel might also have had the ego issue. No way would it have been Janet or Teal'c's idea.
She tries very hard to ignore the stares of personnel they encounter – it isn't every day children are allowed in the SGC, much less five teenagers following Colonel Jack O'Neill around like a string of ducklings. It's hard though, when the people staring are people she knows, and they have no idea who or what she is. She wonders what they'll think when they find out.
She wonders what the Colonel thinks.
They reach the briefing room in silence; she doesn't ever remember her friends being so quiet for so long a period of time. The Colonel shuts the door behind them, and stands awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his BDUs.
"Well," he says, "take a seat."
She's still not sure she's used to hearing his adult voice again, and she's not sure she likes how old he really is.
"Are you going to tell us what's going on now?" Daniel asks. His voice is uncertain, as though he's not sure how to address the old man they used to know. Sam understands how he feels – she's just spent a year getting used to deferring to everyone older than twenty again. It's not easy to suddenly treat this man as an equal like before.
And he's old. She's not sure she can get over that.
General Hammond enters the room before the Colonel has a chance to answer – Sam is surprised to realize she has to look up to him. She's not short for a fourteen year old – she's taller than everyone else – but she had always thought of Hammond as…short.
"Would you all like to sit down?" Hammond says, echoing the Colonel's earlier request.
Sam may have been at school for the last year, but even she remembers the basic chain of command. The briefing room chairs are roomier than she remembers, and much more comfortable than the chairs in fourth period math.
There is silence around the table; Sam fiddles with the hem of her T shirt and stares at the young hands in her lap.
"Well," the Colonel says finally, "this is awkward."
Hammond, Daniel and Janet all force a chuckle, but the sound is strained.
"I'm sure you're all aware that this isn't just a social call," Hammond beings once the awkward chuckle dies a quick death. "When Major Carter suggested… well…" he stumbles over the words, unable to phrase it.
She's not sure she could phrase it herself – after all, how do you tell someone you suggested you should get yourself cloned into a mini-me so that one day you could save the world if you were needed. That not only sounded very egocentric (and Sam is quite ashamed now, of her ego) but also very stupid. People just didn't get cloned into mini-me's in the real world.
"Seeing as no one is getting to the point, I'm going to assume our older selves aren't around anymore?" Daniel asks bluntly.
She sees the Colonel flinch at the words, and wonders whether they'd ever done anything about how they felt. She looks at her Jack, and thinks that no, they probably didn't.
"Yes," General Hammond says. "Almost six months ago."
"So why are we here?" Janet asks.
"We need Dr. Jackson," Hammond says simply.
Sam is almost offended that they don't need her too, before she remembers she's working on her ego.
"For what, exactly?"
"We need to find the lost city," Hammond says. "Anubis is gathering his forces, and we haven't got a chance in hell to stand against him. Our best bet is finding the Ancient's city and hopefully something we can use."
"Like a weapon," Sam says.
"But I don't remember anything about the Lost City," Daniel says calmly. "We've already had this discussion."
"SG-9 found some ruins – they're Ancient."
"And?" Daniel asks rudely – high school hasn't done anything for his manners.
"The work our people have been able to do on the translating suggest there could be some information about the location of the lost city in those ruins," Hammond explains. "The truth is, Dr. Jackson, we're desperate and I believe you are our best bet."
There is silence in the room again as Daniel mulls over the request, his smooth forehead crinkled in a familiar frown of concentration.
"What about the rest of us?" Janet asks, breaking the silence. Sam looks at Janet; if the situation weren't so serious she might almost be amused – Janet is so small she looks like she's been swallowed by the chair she's sitting in.
A flicker of something ignites inside Sam. Maybe things will change now. Maybe she'll remember that there's more to life than science homework and worrying about zits and a future she has to relive.
"We need to discuss your possible options," Hammond says at length. "I know this last year can't have been easy for you all. When you suggested and agreed to the cloning process, you did so under the belief that you might one day be called into service with the SGC again. Given our current situation, that time has come a lot sooner than we all anticipated, but I would like to offer you the opportunity to be involved with the SGC again, in your former positions."
Realistically Sam knows she's an adult, and that she is perfectly capable to work at the SGC. But living as a child again for a year has done something to her confidence, and she's begun to believe people when they look at her and see a child. How will the personnel in the SGC react to having five children as working members of a highly classified military operation? How will they react to those children being the clones of four members who they buried six months ago?
And for that matter, how will they react to having two Jack O'Neills?
Sam's not entirely sure it's a good idea, but then her last few ideas haven't been all that great anyway. "Well," she says, "it's got to be better than school."
It's not really like there is much of a choice between math and wormholes anyway.
---
