Author's Note: So many of you have asked for more specifics about my original fic novel. So, if you're one of them, here you go. If not, please feel free to ignore this information.
Sweethearts Old will be published through Kindle Direct Publishing (a subsidiary of Amazon) on June 18, 2020. My pen name on Amazon is Rachel A. Andersen. This will be the first of four novels following individual couples through the rhyme "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." All four couples are interrelated, and little known fact, they are based in part on some unpublished fanfic work I did in college. It just translated well. :) Just a quick word of warning, like a lot of my fanfic, however, they're more people-based and less sci-fi based.
Thanks again for the outpouring of love and support. You are amazing! Mwah! - Rose Stetson (Rachel A. Andersen)
(And now for your regularly scheduled chapter!)
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
"Is it you?"
Jack looked up at the blond figure sitting by the top of his cell, expecting to see Kanan's girlfriend and Ba'al's most trusted slave, but instead it was her. Head cocked to the side. Blue eyes questioning, hoping.
She stood in her fatigues; her guard not quite dropped enough to let go of her P-90 and yet there was no weapon pointed at him, either.
"Sir?"
He positioned himself as if he was going to climb out of his cell. "Get me outta here, Carter. If he comes back, I'll tell him."
There was a sound outside his cell, and her gaze focused on it with laser-like precision.
Something was wrong. He could see it from how she readied her weapon.
"Come on, Carter, get me outta here, and I can help you. Carter!"
"Bang!"
Jack jumped, the unexpected noise activating every one of his finely tuned military instincts.
Charlie stood before him, a squirt gun in his hand and a grin on his face. "You're dead."
He wrenched the gun from Charlie's grasp. Didn't Charlie understand how lucky he was that Jack had the presence of mind not to fight back? "This isn't a toy. Do you hear me? This is not a toy."
The scene changed again, and Jack ran to the house, a broad grin as he reached the steps and wrapped his arms around his wife. Except her hair was long and blond, her sparkling blue eyes dancing in the sunlight as she kissed him.
He nuzzled his face in her hair. "Is Charlie ready?"
"He's around here somewhere. . ."
No. No. No.
The gun shot. The scream. The horror.
Sam sobbed into his chest in the hospital as he blinked, the numbness spreading from his chest to his outer limbs.
Then, he was in the ready room at the Pentagon. Caldwell on screen, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, sir. We have visual confirmation. The Hammond has been destroyed. No evidence of 302 deployment. No new life signs on the planet, either."
His gut clenched.
That twisted echo of his son was back, standing beside him in the ready room. "You failed her. You failed them. Just like you failed me."
Jack gasped as he awoke, his heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline that he'd need to channel into something productive if he wasn't going to give credence to Sam's fears that he was a heart attack waiting to happen.
Damn it, Daniel.
Sam half-raised as she put a hand on his back. "You okay?"
No.
He kissed her, grateful that the terror gripping his limbs was only the result of a nightmare. "Go back to sleep. I'll just be downstairs."
Worry creased her faintly wrinkled brow. "Jack?"
Before he had a chance to come up with a story to tell her, understanding dawned in her eyes. "It's what Daniel asked, isn't it?"
He grimaced. "He needed to talk to someone who would understand, I guess."
Sam closed her eyes and looked down the way she did whenever he referenced his first family, like she offered her respects every time Charlie came up.
It was a simple gesture, but he'd come to appreciate it over time.
He leaned in for another kiss, one she gave without restraint, but from the way she tugged at his lips, she wanted him to stay and talk about it. He couldn't do that. Not even now.
Especially now.
He involuntarily shuddered as he pulled away from his wife, and her hand gripped his arm. "Jack?"
It had been the first time his brain had put Sam in Sara's place in his memory. The first time he'd worried about seeing the look of betrayal and anger he'd once seen on Sara's face in Sam's eyes.
The irony was that for someone so in tune with emotions, Daniel would never know the chaos he'd instigated when he'd asked Jack that loaded question: How did you do it?
Sam roused herself fully. "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"
He ran a hand through his hair, the adrenaline making him antsy. "Sam, I'm fine."
She put a hand on his chest, her eyes turning downward in sympathy as she reached up and caressed his cheek. "Your pulse is racing. Jack. . ."
He closed his eyes as Aqua pawed at the bedroom door, a slight whine traveling to his ear.
Jack checked the clock on the nightstand. 5:42 am.
"Gonna take the dog out."
Before Sam could respond, Jack brushed off the covers and slipped out of her reach. She rested her arms onto her bent knee and watched him go with concern in her blue eyes.
There was a light drizzle as Jack let Aqua into the backyard, and the dog quickly scurried back inside. "I don't blame you."
He poured a cup of dry food into Aqua's food bowl and refilled her water bowl. She didn't move, only looked at him with those soulful grey eyes. "Oh, you think you're gonna succeed where my wife didn't? Think I'm gonna open up to you about my problems?"
Jack opened the door to the basement, Aqua quick on his heels.
He hesitated a moment before he opened the door a little wider. "Well, come on then."
She trotted down the stairs behind him, as he got out his old punching bag. He really only had this in case he wanted to throttle a senator during his Congressional budget meetings, but maybe a little boxing would help him break through his jitters.
You failed her.
Tap.
You failed them.
Tap-tap.
You failed me.
Smack.
He ducked out of the way as the bag swung harder and further than before.
Aqua sat beside him and whined.
Jack caught the bag to keep it from swinging, then sat on the floor and patted his thigh. "Come here, girl."
Charlie had wanted a dog. He and Sara had still been talking it over when Charlie had died. It was one of the reasons Jack had gotten a dog for Cassie before asking Janet if it was okay. There weren't many regrets he could go back and fix from that part of his life, but that had been one of them. Fortunately, the intuitive doctor had just smiled and opened her backyard to the animal.
He'd been prepared to let Cassie come and visit the dog at his house, but it was somewhat gratifying not to have to explain why he felt so strongly about it.
Every kid has to have a dog.
The ceiling creaked, and he suspected that Sam had opted not to go back to bed like he'd told her, but decided to start breakfast instead.
Why couldn't he just talk about this with her? It wasn't like she didn't already know the rough outline. Like she didn't already know that the first stargate mission was a suicide mission. After they'd returned from the mission to Netu, after she knew Martouf and her father were okay, she'd come up to him. I'm here if you want to talk, sir. I mean, Apophis used my mom against me. He used Jolinar against Martouf. I can only imagine. . .
She hadn't finished her thought, just let the possibility hang between them.
He hadn't talked then, either.
He scratched behind Aqua's ears for another moment before he stood and returned his attention to the punching bag.
How did you do it?
Tap.
Nothing happened while we were on SG-1.
Tap-tap.
Did you ever wonder what would happen if things ended badly between you and Sam?
Smack.
There was a slight commotion upstairs, and Aqua went on alert.
His breathing elevated as he bounced on his feet between shots, and he turned to the dog. "It's just Sam. She's making breakfast. You can join her if you want. I don't mind."
Apparently satisfied that the commotion was over, Aqua dropped her head back to her paws and watched.
I could transfer to Andrews.
Tap.
Would you take the promotion?
Tap-tap.
I worry about you. I can't help it, Jack.
Smack.
Jack groaned as he stopped the bag from swinging again. Who was he kidding? This was just making it worse. If only he had some bad guys he could beat up. Or something he could blow up. That might make him feel better.
Unfortunately, he had a damn desk job. At home.
He removed all the protective equipment from his hands and turned to the dog. "After you."
She took the stairs at a run, and Jack shook his head with a slight smile. What he wouldn't give to have that kind of energy.
Sam didn't look up from her chopping as he emerged from the basement. Her blond hair was already in a ponytail, but it looked like she'd only put on a robe over her cotton pajamas. "There's coffee."
He didn't move, just watched as she quickly diced a couple of chicken sausage links and slid them into the cast iron pan with the sweet potatoes and the onions. "I probably shouldn't. Had a good jolt of adrenaline this morning."
She glanced up at him for a split second before she turned back to her task. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Well, hitting something didn't work. Petting the dog helped a little, but not enough. So—maybe?"
She studied his face before she nodded. She turned on the oven and switched the pan from the stove to the oven, taking a moment to set the cooking time. Then, she washed and dried her hands before she turned back to him. "I'm all yours."
He hesitated a moment. "You might want to go change. I'm thinking it might be nice to take a walk."
He could read the disapproval in her eyes for a split second before she nodded. Apparently, his emotions were more of a threat in her eyes than this coronavirus.
Aqua tugged on her leash, eager to speed ahead even while she glanced back to make sure that both Jack and Sam were still behind her. Jack's grip stayed firm, needing the solitude and calm of nature to help him walk through what was bothering him.
It wasn't like he and Sam never talked about his life before her. They'd spoken more directly about it after the miscarriage, for obvious reasons, but her emotions had been so fragile back then that the honesty had come in spurts.
Between the early morning and the shelter-in-place order, the streets of DC were silent, almost ghostly, and Jack was almost glad for it. It would be easier to share his thoughts if he wasn't afraid that someone would overhear him.
Besides, the leisurely pace of their walk helped keep his body moving while relaxing his mind.
Sam squeezed his hand. "What was your nightmare about?"
He glanced down at her as he sighed. "A lot of things, really. You, mostly."
She rubbed his arm, though she didn't look surprised.
"Sometimes, I think that the only reason Kanan went back for Ba'al's slave was because she resembled you."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
He shrugged. "He loved her, and even though things were complicated back then, his feelings for her weren't entirely dissimilar to the ones I had for you."
Funny how he could say I love you but he couldn't admit how long he had loved her without looking over his shoulder.
"Her short, blond hair. Her obvious resourcefulness. I don't know, maybe it was a little—"
"Like Jolinar and Martouf."
He breathed in for a moment before he exhaled again. "Yeah, sure. We'll go with that."
"Jack. . ."
"It's fine."
He could joke in his head about Pete because he knew now that the cop hadn't stood a chance. Every step forward with Pete had come with Sam asking Jack for his opinion, checking that nothing was going to change between the star-crossed Air Force officers.
With Martouf, however, there was always that niggle of doubt in the back of his mind. If the Tok'ra hadn't met an untimely end at Sam's own hand and at his request, there was always the question of who she would have chosen if she'd really been given a choice.
"Come on, Jack. You know it was always you."
He quirked an eyebrow. "I do?"
She stopped mid-step. "You don't?"
He shrugged. "I know it's me now. I know Pete wasn't as big a threat as either of us made him out to be, but that word always. I don't know."
Her gaze dipped to the concrete. "Then, I'm sorry, Jack. Because I don't remember a time when I didn't love you. Can barely remember a time when I didn't know you, if I'm honest." She looked back up at him with a tender look in her eye. "I should have done a better job of making sure you knew that."
Jack shook his head as he let go of her hand, opting instead to wrap an arm around her shoulders as they walked. "You've done fine, Sam. I'm just in a weird place right now."
"I can imagine. All you said yesterday was that Daniel called you. You didn't really explain what he wanted."
Jack sighed. "He wanted to know when I got over Charlie and Sara."
Sam's eyes widened. "He said that?"
He shook his head. "No, but that was the gist of his question. I think something's going on between him and Vala."
"And with Teal'c off-world, you were the only other person he thought would understand?"
Jack shrugged. "I guess, but it stirred some stuff up."
"Starting with Ba'al?"
"Apparently."
They crossed the street in silence. Then Sam tensed. "You never talk about him."
"Him?"
"Charlie."
"Ah."
She bit her lip. "I mean, I understand why you don't. I just thought that maybe it would help to talk about the good memories, but if I'm wrong. . ."
Jack walked a few more steps, puzzling. Wondering what he could possibly share that wouldn't make him feel worse than he already did. "Charlie would have liked you."
"You think so?"
He nodded. "Until he was six, he wanted to be an astronaut."
"Really?"
Jack nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I mean, he also wanted to be a race car driver, a firefighter. . ." His voice hitched. "A soldier."
Sam rubbed his shoulder and offered him a strengthening look. "He sounds like he was a great kid."
"He was."
"I wish I could have known him. I'm sure he was a lot like you."
Jack sighed. "Yeah, maybe a bit too much. Impulsive. Stubborn."
She nudged his shoulder. "Other words for those traits might be intuitive. Steadfast."
"Potato, potahto."
"Maybe this isn't about Charlie or me."
He studied her, staying quiet so she could finish her thought.
"Let's face it, Jack. You're a protector. That's your instinct. But there's nothing you can do if something goes sideways on the Hammond any more than you could have done anything for Charlie."
"I could have gone home earlier. Instead of stopping and saying hello to Sara, I could have gone straight to check his room—What?"
Sam had started shaking her head before he even finished his second idea. "I can't get something I learned from the Seer on Atlantis out of my head."
He cocked his head to the side. "Carter?"
She shrugged. "We were trying to reconcile our different approaches to the future with him believing that the future was already written and me believing that the future was what we make of it."
"And?"
She bit her lip. "He said that maybe the future was written by the character of those who shape it."
"So?"
She turned to him, coming to a full stop. "So, Jack, there's not a world where you would run past your wife without saying hello. Contrary to what you might have wanted people to believe at the SGC, there's no world where you would leave your post before you were relieved of duty."
"So, there was nothing I could have done?"
Sam's lips set into a grim line. "Jack, he was a curious boy who wanted to be like his father. What happened was awful, but it wasn't anyone's fault. Not his. Not yours."
Jack handed Aqua's leash to Sam. "I'll be home in a few minutes. I just—I think I need to be alone."
Sam leaned in, her hand warm on his cool cheek as she hugged him. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, that you could trust that I'm not going anywhere."
Jack hugged her back, his hold on her looser than it might otherwise have been as he leaned his face to her shoulder. "If losing Charlie has taught me one thing, it's that we don't always have a say in how long we stick around."
Jack picked up one of the smoothest rocks he could find and skipped it across the surface of the neighborhood pond. Sunrise had come at some point over the last hour, but the sunlight diffused against the gray clouds.
"What do you think, kid? This was the only way things could have happened?"
There was no answer, but if he was honest, he would have been immediately suspicious if there had been.
For the first time in almost thirty years, he remembered sitting with Charlie on the pier at the cabin. Their feet dangled off the pier as they let their fishing lines dust the water.
"Hey, buddy, we gotta talk about how you've been treating your mom when I'm gone."
"Why?"
Jack blew out a puff of air, trying to buy himself a few seconds of think time. "Because she's your mom, and she deserves your respect."
"She's the reason you don't want to stay."
"What? No, kid, it's my job. It has nothing to do with your mom. Trust me. Your mom and I are solid."
"Then, is it me?"
Jack set his fishing pole aside and looked at his son. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"
"Thomas's dad used to be a soldier. Now, he works in a bank. You could work in a bank, Daddy. You're smart enough."
Jack's heart broke. "No, kiddo, I really couldn't."
The boy's shoulders slumped forward.
Jack picked his pole back up. "Look, Charlie, the reason I do my job is that I want to make the world a safer place for you. If I were a banker, I wouldn't be able to say that, now would I?"
"So, if something happens to you on a mission, it's because of me?"
This talk wasn't going the way he'd hoped. He wrapped his fingers around the back of the boy's neck and dusted his thumb across Charlie's cheek. "Don't you ever blame yourself if something bad happens to me, okay? Sometimes, bad things happen. That's life. Not your fault. Not your mom's. Got it?"
Charlie released a sigh that would have sounded more appropriate if it had come from a thirty-eight-year-old man. "Got it."
Jack threw another rock without worrying about whether or not it skipped. The coincidence of this memory coming on the heels of Sam telling him something almost identical to what he said to his own son felt too calculated, too perfect.
It felt almost like a gift. If he was one for believing in an afterlife, he might be tempted to believe his son had sent the memory to him.
Jack breathed out, feeling like a weight slowly lifted from his shoulders.
Damn. Sam was right.
As usual.
She stood at the front window, one arm across her waist as she chewed the cuticle on her thumb. The worry lining her face was strangely comforting as he walked into the courtyard outside their front door.
She flew out the door and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You said a few minutes, Jack. It's been over an hour."
He caressed her cheek with a smile. "I'm sorry I worried you."
She leaned back, her eyes analytical as she studied him. "You look better. Are you really feeling better?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked up the stairs to the townhome. "Not a hundred percent just yet, but I'm getting there."
"Good."
He caught her wrist as they got to the front stoop. "Hey, Sam?"
She turned back to face him. "Yeah?"
He motioned over his shoulder. "That can't have been easy to say. Thank you."
She squeezed his forearm. "You always said that Ba'al's torture was the worst thing you ever had to endure. I've always suspected you were better at torturing yourself over Charlie than he ever was at trying to get any information out of you."
She wasn't wrong.
"One of the things Daniel wanted to know was if I ever wondered how things would go if things between you and me ended badly."
She raised an eyebrow. "And?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed until they were hip to hip. "And except for a few court martial scenarios that flashed through my brain—"
She couldn't help but chuckle, though he suspected that it was more because of how unexpected his answer had been rather than because of some appreciation for that particular joke.
"—I never imagined a day when you and I, once we'd taken the plunge, weren't a thing."
"Really?"
He pulled her to face him as he brushed one strand of her blond hair behind one ear. "Someone very wise once told me that the future is written by the character of those who shape it."
She blinked those trusting, loving blue eyes at him as she wrapped both hands around his middle. "And what about our character makes you think this is going to last forever?"
He hoped she could see just how serious he was about this, as serious as any vow he'd ever made. "Because there's never a world where I don't fight for you, Samantha Carter."
She swallowed as her eyes shone with unshed tears. "And there's never a world where I don't believe in you, Jack O'Neill."
He smiled as he ran a thumb over her lips, drinking in the pure love that radiated in her face. God, he was lucky. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered.
Then he kissed her.
