---
"You wanted to see me, sir?" The ever-familiar words hung in the air between them as a pair of carefully controlled eyes conveyed curiosity. A curiosity, that Hammond knew, was carefully moderated. The owner of the brown eyes would never, never let any more emotions show in those eyes than what he chose.
"Yes Colonel. Sit down." He motioned to the chair, his hand feeling heavy and clumsy as it waved about in the air.
His eyes strayed once again to the picture on his shelf by the door. The wedding picture.
Blinking firmly, he forced his attention on Jack O'Neill.
"How are you doing, Jack?" he asked, injecting just the right amount of fatherly concern into his voice.
"Just peachy," Jack shrugged, his eyes completely open and guileless. But Hammond knew that Jack was lying. He'd had Jack under his command for nearly three years now. Jack was lying. His emotions were never open and on display for the world to see. Why would they be now?
Hammond nodded. "Good. I want to temporarily reassign Dr. Jackson, Major Kowalski and Teal'c to other SG teams..."
"We're still on down time though," Jack pointed out, his narrowing as he studied Hammond.
"Jack... you've all been on base for the last week. Down time, the last time I checked - and I heard you telling this to a certain Dr. Carter a while ago - is supposed to be 'down' time. Time off base."
Jack swallowed.
You're supposed to have fun on your down time, Sam, fun.
This is fun, Jack.
It is?
Yes.
Fishing.
What?
How about we go fishing.
I don't know... I've been wanting to work on this...
Come on Sam. Fishing. A great big lake... fish this big... fun.
Fishing? Fun?
Come on.
I've heard about your lake Jack. It hasn't got any fish.
Yes
it does. They just haven't been caught yet. Smart fish, Sam. See,
you'll like them. They're smart... like you.
"Jack?" Hammond frowned as Jack's eyes grew sorrowful, focusing on the wood of his desk.
"General?" Jack blinked, instantly snapping his mind out of the past and focusing on Hammond. "Sorry, Sir. I was thinking."
Hammond knew. He knew Jack was thinking about Sam. Hadn't he been the one to mention Sam in the first place?
"It's hard, isn't it?" Hammond sighed, watching Jack closely.
"What is, sir?" Jack opened his eyes innocently, playing dumb.
"Losing your wife." Hammond's gaze rested firmly on the wedding photo this time, his gaze focusing on the happy smiles of Jack and Sam. Sam had been his God-daughter, and Hammond had always had a soft spot for Jack. He'd considered them family, of sorts, and was aware that they had both returned the affection.
"Yes," Jack agreed after a lengthy silence. Hammond knew what it was like to lose the someone that kept your heart beating.
There was another silence in the office, and Hammond was surprised when Jack broke it. "We never caught anything."
"Pardon?" Hammond frowned, confused as to where Jack's mind was.
"Me and Sam. We went fishing one down time... before we..." He swallowed roughly, his eyes startled as he realised what he was suddenly revealing to Hammond. He wanted to stop, to close his mouth before something else slipped out. But he couldn't. He had to finish what he'd started, no matter how involuntarily. "We just sat and talked the whole time. About everything." He sighed. "And when she came up the next time, we just did it again. Just talked."
Hammond was surprised, to say the least. He hadn't thought they'd just sit and talk. It was none of his business what his officers and civilian employees got up to in their spare time, but he had been under the impression that the weekend trips up the cabin had been what resulted in the beginning of Jack and Sam's relationship.
Jack looked up in time to see the frown of confusion on Hammond's face. He smiled slightly, not showing anger or resentment for the obvious thought pattern his CO had been following.
He sighed then, looking back down at his hands before meeting Hammond's eyes again. "I don't think anyone will have a problem if you reassign them and cut their down time short."
"I didn't think so either." Hammond pursed his lips, letting his eyes rest on the wedding photo. They'd been good for each other. Not only themselves, but for those around them also. Daniel, because he needed love like that around him, even if it wasn't his own. Kowalski because it had had a settling effect on him, and Teal'c because he had to be reminded of what love was sometimes, even though he had a family of his own.
"Sir?" Jack hesitated, his voice almost squeaking as the syllable was strangled out of him.
Hammond raised an eyebrow, concerned at Jack's awkwardness and hesitancy. Hammond had never known Jack to hesitate or to be awkward.
"What's going to happen to her?"
Hammond paused. Her. What was going to happen to her? Stay here... go back... He blinked, clearing his thoughts. No matter what though, her being here had inadvertently stirred up memories and ghosts that would have been better off untouched.
"I don't know, Colonel. We'll have to wait and see."
"Sir?" Again the hesitation and awkwardness was found on his voice. "Is there a possibility that she'll stay here?"
"Yes." Hammond couldn't lie. If she wanted to stay, she could. That was already resolved with the brass. The opportunity of having Samantha Carter's brilliance back on this planet had proved to be too tempting for them to resist, and he had been encouraged to encourage her to want to stay.
No matter what the cost to any of them.
---
Her body pulsed in time to their footsteps; she could see glass panes in the window rattling as they ran.
She felt their iron fingers grip her tender flesh, felt the metal clad limbs digging into her skin and tearing at the flesh. But she couldn't scream in pain.
The world rushed past, a dizzying display of grey and black as she was dragged and yanked from room to room, corridor to corridor as their search for more people continued. But as each blur spun past her, as each form flashed itself across her eyes, she couldn't hear a sound.
The silence was still there. Hanging. Waiting. Holding on, tormenting her. She couldn't hear. Why couldn't she hear?
And then she was thrown to the ground, her wind knocked out of her as her battered body connected with the concrete floor, her skull once again cracking a sickening staccato on the ground.
Hands were helping her up; guiding her carefully so that she was resting against a wall while someone wiped the blood from her lips and chin. She watched as her blood mixed with someone else's blood already staining the once white handkerchief a bright crimson colour. And she shuddered, not in disgust, but in grief.
They'd lost.
Once again the numbness faded as she opened her eyes, and the tension of her jaw gritting her teeth was enough to send bolts of pain running along her skull and exploding over her vision.
A soft moan escaped from between her lips, drawing the doctor's attention to her.
"Shhh..." Janet smoothed the damp golden strands of hair off of the woman's pale forehead, and then frowned in concern as her eyelids flickered, fighting desperately against the unconsciousness.
"Janet?" The whisper was hoarse, scratching against her throat, but Janet felt her own throat constrict as the word laced its way into the air and then gently dissipated into nothing.
"I'm here, it's okay." Janet soothed, reaching for another ice chip as the startling blue eyes finally flickered open and travelled wearily around the room.
Janet. It was the first time She'd spoken, the first time her voice was heard. Janet. She hadn't been calling for her, Janet realised from afar as she carefully slipped the ice chip between the woman's dry lips. She'd been calling for her Janet.
Maybe one day she'd stop looking at this woman and seeing her as a replacement for a long lost friend. Maybe one day she'd stop analysing everything that happened because of this woman, everything she felt when she thought about this woman. But for now, she couldn't do that. She had to put her own emotions on hold for the time being, and deal with this woman first.
Help this woman first. Undoubtedly, this woman was going to go through the same experience as all of them, and there was nothing anyone could do to ease the pain.
"I'm sorry." The strangled sound forced its way out of her throat again, scratching in the air and driving a spike deeper into Janet's heart.
"For what?" She asked, unable to stop her hands from continuing the soothing pattern on Her forehead.
"You died. I couldn't stop it... Janet?" The garbled words coupled with the confused grief struck a chord in Janet's heart. So what if this woman wasn't the one they had lost, so what if she was another version of Sam. This woman - Sam - was still essentially the same being. There would be differences, it was inevitable, but now, lying here on the bed in pain and grief, this woman was Sam.
"What is it honey?" Janet checked her pulse, satisfaction at the result creeping through her. Steady. It was steady. The longest it had been steady yet. She was improving, she was getting better. She'd make it.
"You're not her, are you?" Sam whispered suddenly, realisation darkening her eyes as she gazed up at the doctor, her expression strangely lucid.
"No, I'm not." Janet agreed softly, the words sending another stab through her. She wasn't really Sam to them, just like they weren't really who she knew.
"How long..." She struggled to form the words, exhaustion and pain starting to gain the upper hand once again.
"Five days." Janet answered gently.
A frown of fleeting confusion brushed across her features. "That's not possible. The failure..." She hesitated, her eyes meeting Janet's. "I'm dead in this reality, aren't I?"
Janet choked back a sob at the bluntly spoken words. Sam was dead in this reality, where as the woman lying on the bed was very much alive and getting better.
"Yes." Janet's being screamed at the inaccuracies... but it was the truth. The universe recognised both woman as being the same, so why couldn't she?
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, before her eyes fluttered closed and she allowed the terrifying, soundless darkness to claim her once again.
Janet closed her eyes and sighed. Soon she was going to have to stop giving her sedatives. She was getting better; the sedatives were only used to stop the nightmares that still persisted and to ease the pain.
And then what? How would they function then?
---
Hammond stood silently in the infirmary, watching Dr. Jackson as he spoke to the 'new' Sam Carter. He was looking fairly relaxed, but there was a shadow in his eye that reminded Hammond of the truth.
"Janet said you're almost 100 again."
She nodded and smiled sadly. "I've been walking through the SGC."
"And?"
She hesitated. "It's different. And strange. There are so many faces I recognise. Lieutenant Allen didn't even know who I was."
That was because Dr. Carter had died before Allen had been transferred.
"Oh. You knew her well in your reality?" Daniel asked, watching as Sam paced around her small room.
"Fairly. Our labs were co-joined and-"
"Allen's lab is also off Sam's one," Daniel inserted with a slight excitement on his voice.
The excitement died abruptly. Sam's lab. Hammond closed his eyes and took a deep breath before entering the infirmary.
"General Hammond, sir!" Sam smiled up at him, and Daniel shot him a look of relief.
"How are you feeling, Sam?"
She frowned slightly, but shrugged. "Much better, sir."
Nodding, Hammond moved closer to her bed.
"I've got to talk to you," he said unnecessarily.
Instantly Daniel jumped up and offered his chair, which Hammond accepted silently.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Sam."
"Sure, Daniel. I'll see you then."
With a final wave Daniel almost ran out of the infirmary.
"How are you doing, Sam?"
She eyed him suspiciously. "I'm fine, General. It's strange here, sir… the variations are all so unexpected-"
Sir? She called him sir?
"General?"
"I've had a phone call from the higher powers, and they're all in agreement that you can stay."
She smiled at him, but it failed to reach his eyes. He was sure his smile also failed to reach his eyes. "That's good, sir."
"Of course, we're going to have to come up with a cover story for why you left and 'faked' your death-"
This was so hard.
"- and you're going to have to go over Sam's history and memorise any differences to yours."
She studied him quietly, searching his eyes. Her eyes were controlled. All her actions were controlled. She was much too controlled, he decided.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"For what?"
"That she died. You all miss her a lot."
"Yes," he acknowledged, "we do miss her a lot."
Swallowing, she looked down at her hands before looking up at him. "Sir, I'm not her. I know I look like her and sound like her, but I'm not her. Just like you're not my-" She cut herself off abruptly.
"We know that," he said gently. "And it's going to be hard. For all of us."
She nodded silently.
"But you're going to try, Sam."
She nodded again. "I will, sir. I won't fail you, I promise."
And then he knew. "You're military."
She glanced up at him, surprised. "Of course."
He closed his eyes. Crap. "Sam wasn't."
For a second there was no reaction. Her mouth opened slowly and her eyes widened. She gazed at him; stunned. "Not…she wasn't?"
He shook his head. Military? Sam? Sam couldn't use a gun if her life depended on it, much less to sit-ups or push-ups.
"Was she… SG-1…"
"You were on SG-1?" Again, news to him.
"Yes. Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c, Daniel and myself."
Colonel O'Neill? "No, Kowalski is on SG-1. Sam's a scientist. She stays on base and only goes to worlds…" Present tense. He was still using present tense concerning Sam, even after six months.
"Kowalski died in my reality," Sam murmured, her eyes thoughtful.
Hammond closed his eyes. Colonel O'Neill. "You're not married to him, are you?"
"Kowalski?" She almost snorted. "No. He died a few weeks after I met him for the first time."
"I meant Jack."
"He's my CO."
"No, he's not."
She gazed at him, suspicious.
"Sam, in this reality you were married. You and Jack. You were married for about a year and then you… she… died."
Her mouth dropped open.
"Have you seen him at all?"
She shook her head slowly, stunned.
"Sam…"
A strangled sound escaped her, and then a tear trickled from beneath one tightly shut eyelid. "I thought…when he didn't come to see me…I thought…"
"What?"
"I thought he died. With her."
No. It had been close, but Jack hadn't died. Jack was still alive.
"He… he hasn't been to see you because… because…"
"It's okay, sir." She drew in a shuddering breath. "I understand. I look like her and I'm not her…"
She did know. She really did know.
"You loved him."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, breathing deeply. "I don't know. I could have. We never said anything though. The regulations…"
"It's okay, Sam. You're not in the military anymore. I won't court marshall you."
And she didn't look particularly happy about that.
"I'm… could I be excused, sir?"
He nodded silently, passing her the manila folder as she rose unsteadily to her feet. "May I ask where you're going?"
"My lab, sir."
And he couldn't argue, because it was her lab now.
---
She should be grateful, she knew that much.
But knowing that she should be grateful, and actually being grateful were two completely different things.
Sam sighed and pushed away from her desk, sitting back on her chair and surveying the room around her.
It was different to how she remembered it - which was a good thing. The walls had been repainted - they were a cheery yellow colour with white trimmings. An odd colour for a lab, she thought almost idly, how on earth had they convinced Hammond to do it?
Then again, he wasn't the Hammond she was used to dealing with. And they weren't the people she was used to dealing with.
And, she frowned as she looked around, for all she knew the lab could have been yellow and white from the start.
"Sam?"
She turned and faced Daniel, offering a tight smile as she got up out of her chair.
"No, don't bother getting up. I just came to see how you were," he waved her back into her chair, sitting himself down on an empty bench.
The benches were never empty in her lab, she remembered with a pang.
"I'm fine. Just looking around," she smiled again, but her eyes stung and she turned her gaze back onto the yellow walls to try and avoid his understanding blue eyes.
"And?"
"And what?" She was confused by the expectation in his voice; she still didn't know how to read him properly.
"How do you like it?"
She swallowed, breathing deeply before responding. "It's… It's different to my lab, Daniel."
He was silent as he waited for her to continue.
"The walls are yellow. My walls weren't yellow, and I had a plant. A purple plant that nearly died four times when we were lost off world because no one remembered to water it…" she trailed off, her eyes burning.
"Red," Daniel was also fighting tears, she could tell by the sheen in his eyes and the crack on his voice. "Her flowers were red."
A chuckle escaped, and she rubbed her hands roughly through her hair while his smile turned to a bittersweet grimace.
"You okay?" She stepped towards him instinctively, and he didn't seem to mind.
Her and Daniel had always been like that; ready to comfort one another at the drop of a hat.
"Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" he hesitated, casting an uncertain look in her direction before deciding to continue. "Your hair is short, and… and I feel really guilty for thinking this, but I prefer it shorter."
Again, her lips twitched into a smile and her eyes stung as she hugged him.
His fingers clutched desperately at her clothing and he buried her head against his shoulder. "We miss her," he whispered hoarsely, apologetically.
"And I miss them."
---
She watched silently as Hammond closed the manila folder slowly, his hands smoothing the creamy cardboard gently.
Her stomach lurched and she reached for the folder with a trembling hand.
Her history. Her life. Her entire past was contained in these few pages. Thousands of memories. Millions of minutes and seconds.
And none of them were hers. But she was going to have to read them all, and make them hers.
"Is that all, sir?" she asked softly, fingering the crisp pages gently.
"Yes," Hammond nodded, and she knew that his eyes were also locked onto the folder now held firmly in her grasp. "Doctor-"
"Sam," she stated firmly, clenching her jaws together in an attempt to stop the tears.
"Pardon?" He blinked in confusion.
"Please, sir, if you're going to call me anything, call me Sam." It was an unusual request to make, and the expression on his face showed it. "It'll be easier, sir. For everyone. You won't… you won't all be reminded who you lost every time you talk to me, and I can still pretend that I'm in the military."
There was doubt on his face at her logic, she could see the concern written clearly in his eyes: he was worried about her denial. They all were.
She was too; she couldn't pretend things were still the same forever. But for now, pretending made it that much easier to bear, that much easier to accept without the pain.
"Very well. SG-1 should be back from their mission shortly. When they arrive I'll explain how all of this is going to be possible."
She nodded silently; there wasn't really anything else she could do.
---
Jack's stomach was tied in knots. Not just itty bitty little nervous knots, but big honking knots of terror.
"Colonel, you alright?"
He nodded at Hammond, not trusting his voice.
They entered the briefing room silently, and his heart jerked painfully in his chest. She was there; sitting quietly in the chair she had always occupied before-
He stamped on the memories ruthlessly.
"Now that we're all here, I'll explain how the cover-story works." Hammond waited until they were all settled. "It isn't a secret outside of the SGC that Dr. Carter-" He hesitated, his eyes flitting from Sam to Jack, "-worked for a top secret military facility. Which is why we can say that her death was staged."
There was silence in the briefing room for a second.
"As far as the rest of the world will be concerned, Sam Carter never died. She went into a witness-protection scheme and can finally come out."
Jack digested the news silently.
"So... Will she..."
"She's got to be who she was before," Hammond said gently. "In the eyes of the law and everyone on this planet, the two of you are married. She didn't die, she just left for six months."
Jack cast a quick glance at the woman - he still couldn't bring himself to think of her as Sam. She was pale, lines of tension around her eyes and lips. He remembered how to get rid of those lines by-
He swallowed roughly. She wasn't his wife. She wasn't Sam.
Sam was dead.
"It doesn't have to stay that way," Hammond said gently, his eyes focused firmly on the wall behind Jack.
He shot another glance towards the woman.
An uncomfortable silence settled onto them.
"Well... dismissed." If Hammond sounded any surer he would have asked them what he had to say.
Jack got silently to his feet, ignoring the looks he was getting from Tealc, Fraiser and Daniel.
"Jack."
He sighed, turning to face Daniel with a look on his face that would have scared braver men. "What?"
"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Daniel whispered, jerking his head back over his shoulder.
Jack glanced into the briefing room. The woman was still sitting there, her eyes focused resolutely on the desk. Jack knew from long experience that she was fighting to keep the tears away.
He swallowed.
It wasn't Sam.
"It will become more difficult the longer you leave it, O'Neill," Teal'c warned gently before leaving the room.
"Talk to her, Jack," Daniel urged, his eyes sincere as he gazed at Jack.
Jack sighed again, pushing his hands through his hair. "Okay. Okay."
Fraiser smiled approvingly, but he could see the sorrow in her eyes. She understood. She understood that they were getting a replacement. Why couldn't anyone else see that? He didn't want a replacement. He wanted Sam. The real thing. Not... someone who looked like Sam.
They left the room one after the other, until it was just himself and the woman who looked like Sam.
She was still staring at the desk, her gaze unmoving while her fingers stroked the worn cardboard of the manila folder with an agitation he could relate to.
"It's not going to get any smoother," he stated.
"Pardon?" She looked up at him, thrown by his comment.
"The cardboard. It won't get smoother no matter how much you rub at it."
"Oh, and you know this for a fact do you?" she demanded harshly, and he was shocked at the bitterness in her gaze.
Oh, this was a bad idea. Very bad idea.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down again. "It's just... it's so hard, sir."
Sir.
The word hurt more than a Hand Device.
"Oh yeah," he agreed, jamming his hands awkwardly into his pocket.
The silence was awkward and strained, stretching between them like a chasm of years.
"Look, I-" They both started at the same time.
She giggled nervously, wringing her fingers together. "You first."
Jack stared down at the carpet, scuffing his worn sneaker on the rich covering. "I guess you need a ride, huh?" he said eventually.
"To where?" She frowned in confusion.
"Home," he shrugged, his insides clenching again tightly at the thought of taking this impostor home with him.
She gazed up at him uncertainly for a second.
"You are clear to go, aren't you?" his voice was harsher than he intended, and she flinched slightly at his tone. But she faced him determinedly and nodded, seeming to have lost the ability to speak. "You ready then?"
She swallowed, he watched the movement down at her throat, and nodded again.
"Okay then. Come on."
And he turned without a further word, leading her towards the elevator.
---
Please take a moment to tell me what you think.