A/N This chapter was "inserted" into what was already written thanks to a idea I wanted to try out given to me by shinysilvergrl. I hope this lives up to what you wanted.

Hope was not something Jack O'Neill was used to feeling. It is something so foreign, having been suppressed for so long, that when it happened he was sure he was going crazy.

However, hope, was all he could feel when Cassie collapsed to the floor. Which was more than he had felt before the incident; it brought him out of a numbness that he would wish on no one.

Concern was the next in line—for Cassie of course, her young heart not being able to stand what was happening. Her duties were too hard, too much for her to handle in this ceremony and Sam should have realized that. How could she have asked her to perform, to try and fill a hole so deep she could only get lost in it?

Which, inevitably led to anger. Angry at her. Livid. He never thought he could truly be disappointed to the point of infuriation—at Samantha Carter. But he could, and he was. The sobbing girl in front of him only incensed his anger, which he thought could get no worse until he noticed the argument before him.

Pete was yelling at Carter. He was yelling at her as if he had the right to be angry at her; yelling at her on her wedding day, in front of the church no less. For a brief moment he thought of intervening, but with a wry internal shrug thought that since he hadn't done anything before it wasn't his place now.

Until, he saw his hand swing back. At that moment, had he had his side arm, the man would have been dead. There would be no remorse. He would gladly have killed him with his bare hands in a 'house of God' for that movement. And as he gripped Pete's wrist with a subconscious movement so quick he was sure no one even noticed until it was there, he fought hard with his urge to snap his wrist in two.

Distraction came in the form of idiocy. He had always pretended to be stupid, as a tactic it worked well, but for those without the mental acuity to even grasp their own mediocrity—he had no pity. Nor did he have any for the woman who opened her mouth and uttered the one thing that no one should ever say to a woman, much less should come from a woman's mouth. No. This was stupidity born of genetics, of breeding, and of beatings he was sure.

What he didn't expect, however, was the heartfelt and borderline hysterical laugh that erupted from Carter. The smile that followed it was more than he could handle, a smile from Carter could make him weak in the knees, but this was more than that. One of liberation, of release…and once again hope sprang up inside.

He slowly lowered Pete's hand to his side before fully releasing his grip, knowing the younger man would have the imprint of his hand in the shape of a bruise for days. This pleased him to know that Pete would have this reminder as he reached for Carter to guide her out of the church, after a few parting words to the ex-groom.

His hand on her back was not light, or gentle in anyway. He was still furious with her, and that was reflected in the heavy and slightly possessive hand that almost pushed her back up the aisle.

The small party did not stop in the hall, but continued outside. When they finally did halt, Sam's back was to them, and with a brief glance over her shoulder she did something else none of them expected.

She ran.

A strangled "CARTER!" was all that could escape his mouth before she had made it to the bus that was sitting on the corner. He started quickly for the bus, at a dead run, and saw her glance briefly through the side window before the bus gathered speed and left. He stopped halfway in between the bus stop and his friends, once again in the state he had started the day in. Numb.

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I hope that was something like what you wanted, Sil.

Once again the reviews make my day, thank you.