With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Ten - Remember Me

Disclaimer: The characters from Stargate SG-1 belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

Rating: PG

Characters: Jack and Sam

Chapter ten. I freely admit that I was, am, and will always be, a Martouf fan. It's strange how you can ship a certain way, but also find room for others. I loved Sam and Narim just as much. So somehow I just felt that if she were to ever be fully free to love Jack, Martouf would have to let her go. So here's what could have happened, in the Stargate world. Please R&R.

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The warmth of her thin blanket penetrated Sam's subconscious mind and she curled closer into the bunk, extending one arm smoothly beneath her pillowcase. Across the few feet that separated them, Jack shifted slightly on his cot, rolling from one side to the other with a grunt, a tuft of hair standing straight up in the back. Even exhausted, she found the energy to smile in amusement. Since everything seemed normal, her lashes fluttered closed when a soft light tugged her into wakefulness.

Unwilling to open her eyes completely, Sam buried her head deeper into the pillow, but the light purposefully brightened, causing her to squint. Finally, she exhaled an aggravated breath and opened her eyes, expecting to see the morning sun shining through a sliver in the blinds. Instead, her breath hitched sharply in her throat.

A figure stood in the center of the room, outlined in a white light.

Startling upwards, she almost leapt across the flooring between her and Jack's bunks, a hand extended to shake him awake, when a voice murmured softly, "Samantha" giving her pause. Almost afraid to face the shimmering creature before her, Sam fought vulnerability and turned toward the form. Slowly, the white faded until only a faint gleam lingered around the edges of a familiar shape. Her lips parted in shock and she gasped his name questioningly.

"Martouf?"

That familiar, gentle smile engulfed his features and she blinked, the cot creaking beneath her weight as she sank back onto the pile of blankets in shock. Tenderness gleamed from his eyes and he stepped across the room toward her, halting a few feet from the cot. "I know what you're thinking, Samantha, but this is not a hallucination. I wish I could explain your experience in terms you would understand, but I cannot. Only know that I am here and that I have come to set your mind at ease."

His hand reached out to her, and Sam froze, her fingers clasped tightly around the fabric of the flimsy blanket. Finally, her eyes melding with his, she extended unsteady fingers and placed them uneasily into his palm. It was warm flesh, blood flowing freely through the veins. She blinked and the room instantly melted away. Yanking her hand away from Martouf's grasp, Sam found herself standing outside in the fading moonlight, fully clothed.

"What's happening?"

She immediately took on a defensive stance, hands raised just above her waist and feet separated. His smile reflected amusement, and Sam eyed him warily, finally inquiring in a suspicious tone, "I saw you die, Martouf. I sent the killing blast through your body. This isn't real, no matter how much I would wish it so." His hands grasped her arms and she lashed out, a foot flying in an instinctive maneuver, only to find herself being propelled directly through his body. The hard ground flew up to meet her and she landed with the wind knocked from her lungs, whirling to face him once more.

Martouf shook his head, reaching out and grasping her arms with a very real sensation, pulling her to her feet once more. "Always the doubter, Samantha. I would have expected nothing less from one such as you. I am no longer corporeal, but rather spiritual. You are the only reason I have returned at all." Hesitantly, her fingertips extended and brushed across the firm flesh of his face. His grey eyes closed against her touch and Sam exhaled unsteadily, drawing her hand across his cheekbone and lips.

"It is you." Her voice shook and if not for his grasp upon her arms she would have sunk to the ground in shock. "I don't understand." Martouf's hand ruffled through strands of her hair, seemingly fascinated with the texture and sensation. Lips parting to speak, he paused momentarily as if searching for the appropriate words, finally answering her questioning stare with a soft, "We haven't much time, Samantha. But I will make use of the time available."

Sam's hand rose to shield her eyes from a sudden blinding flash and when they opened again she found herself in a warm room, tastefully decorated in deep burgundy and gold brocade. A warm fire crackled upon the grate and Martouf tenderly took her hand, pulling her onto a sofa plumped full of golden cushions. Only stars were visible through the window, no trees, no earth, nothing but millions of twinkling spheres. Starting to believe, one edge of her mouth quirked in astonished curiosity and she queried, "What is this place?"

"A halfway mark to my final resting grounds. I would be there now, Samantha, if you had not called me back." She met his gaze directly. "I called you back?" Eyes crinkling, Martouf smiled. "Not in so many words, Samantha, but yes. Rosha wished me to send you greetings and a heartfelt thank you." The fire vigorously sparked and Sam grasped his hands. "She's with you, finally?" He nodded soothingly. "I'm so glad, Martouf. I know how her death pained you."

"That is not why I am here, Samantha."

Her brow creased. "I'm not sure I understand, Martouf. Why, exactly, are you here?"

"To bring comfort. Samantha, my death was not your fault. Jack has been doing his best to convince you, but I sensed the guilt you experienced and which continues to gnaw at you. The only conclusion was that I tell you myself." A strand of blonde hair fluttered toward her forehead and he tenderly maneuvered it back into position. "And to give my blessing for your relationship with Jack."

Cheeks flushing to a dusky rose, Sam shifted uneasily beside him. Martouf laughed easily. "I am glad he has brought you comfort. It was something that I could not give. Samantha . . ." His gaze lowered to stare mesmerized into the flames. "Live your life, promise me this. True happiness is extremely fragile. I do not want fear of the unknown to prevent you from fulfilling your potential. Do not allow memories of my demise to restrain you."

"Martouf, I can never forget."

"I would never want you to forget, Samantha. Only remember with fondness rather than pain. I loved the moments we spent together. You brought Jolinar to me, but a new Jolinar. You are entirely unique, Samantha Carter, and I will miss you. Know that I think of you, often." A shaky laugh floated from Sam's throat and she ran her hands down the front of her khaki pants. "And what of Lantesh? Does he think on me to?"

Martouf's countenance closed tightly, a flicker of sorrow touching them before vanishing. "I could not say, Samantha. Perhaps someday, you will discover the truth about Lantesh. Where I have gone, he cannot follow, nor can Jolinar, as much as it causes me grief."

"Now, wait a minute. What do you mean?"

"There will come a time for you to know, but it is not now."

Suddenly, Martouf's hands rose and cupped Sam's cheeks, bringing her features level with his own. Undergoing his thorough examination unnerved her, but she remained motionless, allowing him to delve deeply into her eyes with his gaze. After what seemed an endless eternity of moments, he released her with a contented smile.

"It is well. Tell Jack that he is your future. And that should he ever choose to abandon his responsibility, I may return again to haunt him." The final words were spoken in a mildly teasing tone and she laughed. "Martouf, thank you. Will I ever see you again?"

"No, Samantha. But you will remember me and that is all I ask."

"Always, Martouf."

Her arms encompassed his warm body and they clung together for several moments. Her lashes dampened with tears and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Be at peace," he murmured against her ear, his breath stirring delicate tendrils of her hair. A rush of air propelled her forward and when she opened them again, Sam found herself blinking against the darkness in Jack's cabin, her hands clutched around a worn blanket and reclining upon her bunk. Inhaling desperately, she bolted upright, examining the room and finding it dark and comfortably shadowed.

Something reminiscent of a gentle caress brushed across her cheek and Sam's hand lifted to touch the area where lingering warmth rested upon her skin. Jack hadn't moved an iota since she had last seen him; still unconscious to the world. Although now she wondered if perhaps his deep hibernation were not an invention of Martouf's, so he would not awaken. Creeping across the floor, desperately attempting to avoid the creaking spots, she knelt beside Jack's bunk.

Ruffling a hand delicately through his sandy hair, she turned his face toward her. He moved unwillingly at first, even in sleep, before finally shifting all the way to face her, eyes closed and mouth slackened. A contented smile brushed her lips and Sam bestowed the same contentment upon Jack's cheek. She watched him, silently, for several moments, contemplating Martouf's words. Jack was her future, and the thought brought such joy that she felt her heart would explode. Leaning close, her lips barely brushing his ear, she murmured, "I love you, Jack O'Neill."