Author's Note: Thank you for your patience as I have struggled with how to proceed on this story without getting too dark. I think I have found a decent balance now, but that doesn't mean that it's all going to be fluffy. So, you'll likely need some tissues, and you might even need to take a step away. Please know that there are happier times returning to this version of SG-1, just as I hope and pray for happier times coming to all of us in 2021. Stay safe. Stay well. -RS
Sunday, November 22, 2020
"Dammit!" Sam slammed the screwdriver onto the kitchen counter and it clattered against the dismantled toaster.
Jack didn't speak as he looked up from his iPad, the words from his digital subscription to the Washington Post practically falling out of his mind as he looked for clues about his wife's outburst.
She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, having retreated to the L-shaped counter opposite the island.
He took a sip of coffee before he spoke. "Something the matter?"
Sam kicked at the kitchen cabinetry as she let her hands fall to her side. "It's this damn toaster."
Jack inhaled as he set the iPad aside. Then, stood and put his hands in his pockets as he walked toward his wife. "You know, I bet that a new toaster wouldn't cost more than, say, twenty dollars. I could order one, and you'd be toasting bread in no time."
Sam threw a venomous look in his direction. "I can do this."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
She let her eyes drift closed, that fiery determination giving way to resignation. "Actually, that's not true. If I could do this, I'd be up on the Hammond right now."
Jack carefully moved the toaster, all its parts, and the screwdriver to the edge of the kitchen island. Far away from the astrophysicist who was hellbent on putting it back together. "You'll get there."
She took a couple shaky steps toward one of the bar stools and sank into it. "It's been over six months, Jack. Who's to say this isn't going to be the new normal?"
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know she wasn't talking about masking up every time they left the safety of the house or vehicle. She wasn't talking about the number of schools which had moved to a virtual or hybrid platform for the fall. She wasn't even talking about the chasm which had grown exponentially between the people who believed in the science of COVID treatment and containment and the people who doubted it.
Jack sighed as he sat beside her. Took her hand in his. "You're right. It might be the new normal. What if it is? Where do we go from here?"
She pulled her hand out of his as she looked away. "I don't know."
The persistent brain fog and decline in her gross motor skills had shown themselves gradually in the days after she returned home. The way she'd sat with her new cello between her knees, staring at the fingerboard like she didn't have a clue where to put her fingers. Kept dropping the bow. Trembled with the strain of holding the cello upright.
Carolyn Lam's expression had been inscrutable as she listened to Sam's concerns. We expected there might be brain damage, Colonel. That is the most recent skill you've acquired, isn't it?
Now, the cello had been relegated to the basement. Next to his punching bag. Both behind the leather sectional that faced the television.
Then, it had been tutoring Cassie's kids. Sam trying to blink away confusion as she studied the numbers. At the way the curriculum videos explained how to do the math. The headache which had made those visits less and less feasible. It's just that new way they're teaching math, Carter. Nobody can make heads or tails of it.
Cassie's husband, Greg, had quietly taken over tutoring his kids in math once he'd gotten a handle on the supply issues.
One by one, the things which Sam had depended on to define herself had been stripped away. Her curiosity. Her love of numbers. Her physical strength. Her engineering genius. Her focus. Her military career...
I'm sorry, Colonel, but I'm going to have to put you on medical leave until further notice. I can refer you to a physical therapist and an occupational therapist who can help you regain some of your motor control. I'd also like to schedule you for an MRI and EEG so we can see the damage that's been done to your synapses.
Sam hadn't waited for the information before she'd ended the secure video call. Then, shaking off Jack's assistance, she'd made the long, arduous trek up the stairs to the bedroom.
Only Aqua had been allowed to go in and comfort her.
Jack sighed as he stood and looked at his watch. " Landry and I have a virtual game of chess on the books. You gonna be okay?"
Sam's voice was flat. "I'm a grown woman, Jack. I'll be fine. Go play chess."
Jack leaned down to kiss the top of her head but thought twice. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder, hoping she'd look up at him so he could give her a real kiss before he went upstairs.
She didn't.
He walked to the stairs, sighing as Aqua approached Sam's barstool with a whine and got more of a reaction than he had.
There were few things Jack was certain of these days, but the fact that Samantha Carter was not fine was one of them. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the one person she wouldn't let through that shell she'd built to protect herself.
That hurt a helluva lot worse than watching what COVID had done to her.
He straightened as he reached the stairs, allowing his Black Ops training to compartmentalize his life. He was Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill now. Though he worked in his house, he was at work now. His worries had no place there.
He stopped on the stairs a moment later as his eye caught movement by the kitchen island. Sam, patted her leg and slowly made her way to the back door so Aqua could get some exercise in the backyard.
Jack's heart squeezed. He didn't know what he was going to do if his last ditch effort to help didn't work.
"Any word on Vala or the Lucian Alliance?"
Landry moved his bishop, and Jack watched the board carefully before he mirrored Landry's move on his own board.
"It's Sunday, Jack. Can't you take a day off?"
Jack rubbed a spot on his forehead as he double-checked whether his next move was still a good one or not. "Carter must be rubbing off on me. Sorry."
Landry heaved a sigh as Jack tried to focus his attention on the board. "How is she?"
Jack's hand stilled before he made his move. "She's hanging in there."
"Any sense when she's coming back?"
There was an unspoken question on the air, though Jack tried to pretend he couldn't hear it. Or if she's coming back at all?
Jack just gave a noncommittal shrug. "You'll know when we know, Hank."
Landry sat back and steepled his fingers. "You know, Jack, that last year I was married..."
Jack moved his knight into position, the piece clanging against the board with finality. "Don't, Hank. Just don't."
The Major General didn't seem to bat an eye at Jack's dismissal. "All I meant was that if you need to talk, I'm here. Can't be easy."
Jack's face grew impassive. "I'm sorry. Did I give you the impression that I wanted to talk?"
Landry chuckled under his breath as he moved Jack's piece into position on his board. "Point taken, Jack. Just know that the offer stands."
There were labored footsteps up the stairs, and Jack had to stop himself before he went to help Sam. She wouldn't appreciate looking weak. Even if she wore herself out in the process.
A sense of exhaustion settled over him that rivaled when he'd been stuck in that damn time loop. Or when they'd connected the gate to a black hole, and Jack's single day had spanned two weeks in the normal flow of time. That rivaled the way he'd felt when Charlie...
Two knocks on the door stole Jack's attention. Sam leaned against the doorframe and offered him what passed for a smile these days. "Still playing chess with Landry?"
He nodded, surprised when a lump grew in his throat at her visit. This was the first time in weeks she'd done more than wave at him as she paused to catch her breath at the top of the stairs.
She moved to join him near his desk, and he stood instantly so she could take the seat he'd just vacated. "Here."
She offered him a thin smile as she reached for his hand. "Thank you."
He stabilized her as she sank into the wheeled leather chair. "General, it's good to see you."
Aqua came into the room and lay at Sam's feet. Jack crouched and stroked the chocolate lab's fur.
"Colonel, how are you feeling?"
Sam tensed, and Jack eyed her, wondering how she would respond to the question he knew she was getting tired of. "It's just Sam, sir, and I'm doing as well as can be expected. Thank you for asking."
Jack's brow furrowed.
She must have noticed his reaction because she stiffened before she cleared her throat. "Any news about Vala?"
Jack's gaze darted to Hank's face on the screen, and Hank looked down at the chessboard. "Nothing. Every lead we've run down has been empty."
Sam's jaw tensed as she looked down at her fingers, playing in her lap. "So either she's eluded the Lucian Alliance or they're one step ahead of us."
Jack swallowed. "Or—"
Sam threw him a look, her blue eyes razor sharp for the first time in weeks. Daring him to finish his sentence.
He just raised his hands in surrender. "You have to admit it's a possibility."
The fight went out of Sam as quickly as it had come. "Daniel must be going out of his mind."
Jack patted the dog's side before he stood again. "Yeah. He's been better."
Sam chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I can imagine. What about the Hammond? Heard anything from John yet?"
Landry's bushy eyebrows raised. "Colonel Sheppard wants to know when he can turn the ship back over to you and get back to Atlantis. Apparently, he's not as excited about shuttling people back and forth as you are."
Sam didn't make any promises. Just managed a thin smile. "Six months away from Atlantis. That's stretching a temporary command, don't you think, sir?"
Jack raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. Another suggestion that she didn't think this medical leave was going to be temporary. Maybe her depression was worse than he thought.
Jack shifted his weight, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and cleared his throat. "You know, Sam, Hank and I aren't exactly on the clock right now."
Chagrin played on her features. "Of course. Your chess game. I should let you two get back to it."
She rose to her feet, almost shaky, and Jack's hands reached out to stabilize her again. This time, however, she shrugged off his attempts to help.
She leaned on the desk as she recovered from the motion of standing. "I know it's a little early, sir, but happy Thanksgiving."
"Happy Thanksgiving, Colonel."
She frowned.
Hank hesitated before he nodded. "Sam."
Sam slipped past Jack and toward the door, her movements more awkward and clumsy than normal. Even by today's standards.
She was getting tired. Would likely collapse on the bed for a rest because of how she'd taxed her system.
Sam slapped her thigh. "Come on, Aqua."
The dog's head snapped up before she stood and followed Sam out the door.
Jack watched them go into the bedroom, the door closed behind Sam and Aqua. The sound, though not forceful, made Jack wince. Remembering how he'd pounded on the door. Feeling the panic which had come from having her so close and yet so far away. That moment when he'd had to take the door off its hinges to get the doc inside.
Jack pressed his fingers to his forehead. "Hank..."
"Yeah, Jack?"
Jack blew out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I've got another thing I want to try, but maybe if that doesn't work—"
"Any time, Jack. Day or night."
Jack offered his friend a thin smile. "Thanks."
It was only about fifteen minutes before Landry was called away on some intergalactic emergency, and Jack was left with a half-finished chess game by his desk. Oh well, it had been a welcome distraction while it lasted.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, almost at the same time a notification buzzed on his wrist. Jack groaned as he looked at the smart watch. If it hadn't been an anniversary gift from Sam, and if she hadn't spent days explaining to him all the little things this watch could track, from his activity to his sleep, he would have been tempted to shoot it a long time ago. It would have been much more cathartic, in his opinion. Maybe even have done more to minimize this heart attack risk Sam imagined than the constant interruptions from the watch's notifications.
He tapped the screen, and a message flashed on it. Should get into town tomorrow. Can't wait to see you.
Jack sighed as he looked back at the bedroom. He hoped he was doing the right thing.
He tapped the little microphone to record his message. "Me, too. Drive safe."
The message zoomed away speedily as he sank into his desk chair and pressed one hand to his head. Things would be better in the New Year, wouldn't they?
