A/N: Here's another short chapter for y'all. Enjoy! (And don't worry, this isn't an AU story. At least not in that way. You'll see!)
(oh yeah, none of it's mine, so don't sue me.)
Sam woke up that morning, and it wasn't until she'd begun on breakfast that she remembered the odd phone call of the night before. Her conscience kicked in, and the guilt she'd been able to push aside the night before arose in full force. I'll call Daniel now. She decided. She got no answer on either his land line or his cell. She left a message on both, but a strange feeling of foreboding had come over her. She left her house a little earlier than usual; deciding she would swing by Daniel's place, just to make sure he wasn't sick, or so mad at her that he would skip work. Those are the weakest excuses I've ever made, even to myself! Sam mused, but the sick little feeling in the pit of her stomach demanded that she check out his apartment anyway.
A block away from the apartment building, Sam saw the flash of ambulance lights at the side of the road. Her heart stopped for a moment, and Sam felt her blood go cold. Oh no. God, no. Please, let this not be about Daniel. She could imagine far too many scenarios to explain the disturbance, but try as she might, the feeling that Daniel was at the heart of it refused to go away. She sped up the street without realizing she had increased pressure on the gas pedal. Her worse fears seemed answered as she pulled up a few feet away from the ambulance and police cars in the parking lot of Daniel's building. She tried to calm herself down. It's alright. It's fine. Daniel probably already left for Cheyenne Mountain, this has nothing to do with him. But Sam couldn't lie to herself.
She got out of her car and walked towards a group of people who were standing around talking amongst themselves. She saw them glance over occasionally at a sheet covered form being attended to by the emergency response personnel. She didn't speak until she was near enough to have a quiet conversation. Even then, it took her a minute to gather her courage and ask "what happened?" desperately dreading the answer.
"Oh, it's terrible!" One older woman replied, wringing her hands. "Someone's jumped off a balcony" another lady added. "Sad business, very sad," commented a middle aged man, with his hands in his pockets. "I've got a son only a bit younger than him myself." A young man holding a woman tightly in his arms shuddered. "He must have been so unhappy. Who could imagine he'd take his own life?"
Sam could hardly force the next words through her lips. "Who…who was it?" Inside, she already knew the answer. Oh God, oh God what have I done!
An elderly gentleman answered her kindly. "Ah, he was that nice young scholar, lived on the fourth floor. Dr. Daniel Jackson."
A weaker woman than Samantha Carter would have passed out at that moment. A more foolish one would have burst into hysterics. But Sam was neither weak nor foolish. She was an officer in the United States Air Force. After her initial shock at the pronouncement, she slipped behind the mask of her rank, and let Colonel Carter take over. The colonel walked over to the emergency response people and asked them about the body. She asked whether it needed to be identified, and what the procedure was to put it away until it could be buried. Then she called General Landry and informed him, in the coldest voice he'd ever heard, that Dr. Jackson was dead. She requested that Generals Hammond and O'Neill be told as well.
And inside, she was screaming. Wailing, and sobbing, crying as her heart broke into a million pieces.
"No! God, no! I can't lose him again! Not like this!" Sam woke up sobbing into her pillow. Tears covered her face, and the fabric beneath her head was wet. Slowly the crying stopped, and she sat up wiping her face. Could it, might it all have been a dream? She looked at the clock. 2 am. She felt the blow like a physical pain. He had called her at this time, before. And she had blown him off when he needed her most. Sam covered her face with her hands. No, it was too real to be simply a dream. She had failed her closest friend. And as a consequence, he now lay dead in a morgue somewhere. She lay back down and closed her eyes, letting her sadness wash over her. Exhausted by the emotions and tears, she fell back asleep.