Author's Note: The title of this story changed, as you may have noticed the heading for Chapter One was What Dreams May Come. On further consideration I decided to go with the title Spectre of the Past, Vision of the Future, a title admittedly stolen from Timothy Zahn's two Star Wars novels of those names. At any rate, I don't have a title for this chapter, so if you have any ideas, let me know!
p.s. I know it's short, but be patient! There's more to come!
Sam said goodbye to the cheerful guard at the last checkpoint at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex and headed home. Despite all their previous experiences with alternate realities and duplicates, 18 Samantha Carters was far too many no matter what the circumstances. Flipping through the radio stations, Sam smiled when she caught the last aria from an Italian opera on the classical station. Hearing opera always made her think of Jack O'Neill. Jack would have gone nuts with all the Carters to boss around. Her grin faded a bit when she remembered the varied conversations she'd overheard around the base about her alternate selves. "..returned from her honeymoon…" "…on maternity leave…" "…seeing someone…" She hadn't been able to get a straight answer out of anyone. However, she couldn't get it out of her mind that there had only been one Jack O'Neill to come through the gate, though she hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him at all. From their previous experiences with alternate universes, it all seemed to point to one particular solution...
Forcing her errant thoughts to the back of her mind, she pulled up in front of her house and began to fix a quick snack for herself. She had been cleaning up the lab and jotting down a few notes after the days confusion, and she only now realized how late it was. Nearly midnight! I guess I missed dinner. That's usually Daniel's prerogative. Thinking of Daniel made her think about her other best friend. The one who she'd never expected to see again. Sam smiled as she recalled the brief interlude she had with Janet. True, it wasn't her Janet, but it was close enough to be comfort in such a stressful and confusing situation as they had found themselves in. If only…Sam quickly squashed that line of reflection. "If only"s led to pain and depression, and she should be happy for the brief time she'd had to talk with her old friends. That being said, the pain of losing Janet and Martouf was renewed as Sam had watched them walk through the Stargate back to their own universes.
After eating her abbreviated dinner, and putting everything away, Sam finally climbed into her bed at a quarter to one. She took a couple of ibuprofen for a headache, thinking, after resolving the fate of seventy-two people in a single day, I'm getting off lightly with only a slight headache to show for it! Sam glanced at the phone on her nightstand and thought about calling Jack, to tell him about all the wackiness he'd missed out on, but realized it might seem like gloating if she were to call at this time of night. Though she had to admit…having all those Daniels and Camerons around was like walking into the finest sweet shop around. Talk about your eye candy….
And with that pleasant thought, Sam fell asleep.
Seemingly only moments later, she was woken by the ring of her telephone. She glanced at the clock on her night table, and the glowing digital numbers read 2:00. Who on earth..? She picked up the phone with an irate and slightly groggy "Yes?"
"Sam? Um…I really need to talk to you."
"Daniel? It's two o'clock in the morning! Can't this wait?"
"Uhh, no, no not really. Please Sam…"
Something in Daniel's voice made her pause, but she was too tired to fully comprehend the meaning of his words and tone. "Well, can you just tell me now, so I can go back to sleep?"
"Actually…look, I know this is asking a lot, but I need you to come over here."
When she looked back on this conversation later that morning, Sam would realize that she had missed the obvious signs. Daniel rarely needed anything. He would ask for help on a project, and tell people what they had to do, but Sam could count on one hand all the times he'd said he needed something. And none of them were in good or safe situations.
"Daniel. It's two am, I just got to sleep, and we have a debriefing tomorrow at 0800. I'll talk to you then. Good night." And with only a flicker of guilt, Sam hung up. He'll be fine. He's probably just remembered something about some ancient text he was researching. I promise I'll give it my full attention in the morning. After dealing with the mess we've just been through, we need all the rest we can get!