Chapter 13 - In Memoriam

"Carter, I'm not having a memorial service for people who are all standing right here."

She sighed heavily. "General, I'm not asking you to have a memorial service for the people standing right here. I'm asking you to have a memorial service for the members of SG-1 who gave their lives to get us home."

Jack threw a skeptical look at Sam. "Colonel. . ."

Daniel grunted in irritation, apparently eager to join the fight, and for a moment, it felt like they were all back on the original SG-1 team. "Jack, we have two new crew members who are in a holding cell on this ship, facing a life without any of the people they knew in their lives. They have the right to grieve, and what better way to do that than by holding a memorial service for the people they loved? A memorial service for all the people without whom we would be currently stuck in a time dilation field, living out their future. How can you not see that this is the right thing to do?"

"Daniel. . ."

Vala jumped in beside Daniel. "I'm sorry, General, but I have to ask. A memorial service here on the ship is going to cost absolutely nothing. What do we have to lose?"

Jack groaned as he eyed the entire group in front of him. "Let me guess, you're all here because you agree with Carter."

Sam looked at her hands for a moment, not waiting or watching to see who would stand up for her idea. She could see Cam going either way, but she'd noticed that Teal'c was surprisingly shaken up after the arrival of the twins. If this came down to a vote, she suspected that at worst, it would be four to two in favor of the memorial.

Steeling herself against the myriad emotions playing out inside her, Sam looked at the rest of SG-1. "Guys, can we have a minute?"

Jack raised an eyebrow as the rest of SG-1, minus Vala, started to shuffle out of the room.

Before Sam could say anything, Daniel grabbed her by the collar of her uniform and dragged her with everyone else.

"Colonel?"

Sam exhaled slowly. "I think if you really think about it, you agree with me on the memorial thing."

Jack eyed her, his eyebrow tweaking upward, impressed by her brazen assertion. "Oh, I do, do I? What made you think that?"

She was quiet, trying to choose her words carefully. "You agree because you know we need a memorial service independent of what the twins need."

"Excuse me?"

"We've lost a lot in the last few days. The Asgard. The SG-1 we could have been if we'd actually gone into the time-dilation field. The—"

The childhood of our children in the other room.

She set that thought aside. It wasn't going to help, and she wasn't about to give the IOA something they could work with.

"Look, we lost something more than friends when the Asgard made their decision, and I'll be honest, combined with everything else, it has me a little panicked."

Jack winced. "We lost our safety net."

She nodded. "Yeah. I mean, with the advances Anubis and the Ori brought to the Milky Way, they weren't always the all-powerful race we thought they were when we met them, but yeah. It's a little bit like going off to college and realizing that as much as your parents love you, you're the one paying the bills now."

"Yep."

She sighed. "Look, in my opinion, it's enough that the twins have lost everyone they ever knew or loved. And maybe I've been friends with Daniel for too long if this is the first thing that pops into my head."

She smiled when she heard Jack's heavyhearted chuckle.

"But I think we need this. All of us. Maybe you most of all."

Jack was quiet, staring out the windows of the bridge as they traveled through hyperspace. "They're gonna have a moment of silence at the Pentagon and at the SGC for the Asgard. You don't think that will be enough?"

"Not for you."

He looked over at her, and she wondered if he was remembering the night she'd confessed that she hated the idea of having a large memorial service for her father. Hated the idea that they couldn't just find a quiet place near the Alpha Site to say a few kind words as a team. It felt more appropriate to who her dad had been at the end than the big church farewell that Mark had insisted on.

"Ya gotta know, Carter, I'm much better at giving advice than taking it."

Ever conscious of the active data recorder, she continued. "When my dad died, you took SG-1 to the alpha site, just like I would have wanted. Everyone else, including the Tok'ra, got to say goodbye to him in a big Catholic church in town two days later, but you tooks us through the Gate so we could toast him on the other side. Even when I told you that it would have been okay, you said Not for you."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. That hadn't even been the end of it. He'd been the one who had picked her up for her father's funeral so she could focus on saying goodbye. He'd been the one who stayed after Mark and the rest of the team left, knowing that she needed him just a little longer as she cried. He'd locked her house up after she'd fallen asleep on the couch, taking care to drape her with a blanket before he left. Then, he'd shown up at her house the next morning with coffee and a pastry.

And as complicated as it had all been with her failed engagement and their working relationships and her grief, she'd loved him all the more for how he'd loved her.

She brushed her hand against his. "You were right. I needed to say goodbye to my dad in my own way, and I suspect the same is true for you and the Asgard—especially given how it all ended."

Her voice quieted almost to a whisper, given what little she knew about Jack's brush with suicidal thoughts. She hadn't meant to stumble onto it, but she'd looked up Jack O'Neill when she'd accidentally traveled to the alternate reality where Major Carter had been married to Rodney McKay. She'd hoped that he could help her.

The only thing she found on the internet was an article from more than ten years earlier. An obituary. For the Colonel who had shot himself with the same gun which had killed his son a month earlier.

Sam suspected that was one of the subtle changes which had made that reality so familiar and yet so foreign, that Jack had been just as distraught when Charlie died, but that the Stargate program had intervened first. Most likely, that brush with his own self-destruction was the reason he'd been so angry when Thor had tried to say goodbye.

He looked over at her, and she could see the question in his eyes. Did she know? Would the darkness drive her away like it had Sara?

There was a long silence before Jack sighed. "Tell Daniel to set something up for tomorrow morning."

She nodded though she hesitated before she moved to leave. "General?"

He looked exhausted, and she wondered how much of the stress and pain on his face was because of her, because of them. "Carter, I gave you what you want. Now what?"

She stiffened. "I know you think I'm not being objective, but it might help to talk to Maggie and Jacob."

His eyes drifted to hers. "Maggie and Jacob?"

She shrugged. "I thought it might be better than the O'Neill twins."

He looked down at the floor, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry, Carter, I just—I can't."

She swallowed. "Okay. Do you want them to stay in the holding cell or can we let them out?"

Jack rubbed his eyes. "The IOA is going to have a field day if we let them out of the holding cell and their DNA matches ours, Colonel. Better to leave them where they are for the time being."

"Yes, sir."

His face grew lined as he looked over at her, as if he wanted to say something, but he closed his eyes and shook his head as if it wasn't worth bringing up right now. "Dismissed."

"The General said we can have a memorial service in the morning. He wanted you to set something up."

Daniel waved at the Asgard record in the air. "Me? I thought I could use the next couple of weeks to get started on this. Can't you—"

"I can try, but I'm not nearly as well-versed in cultural rituals as you are. I think that's why he picked you."

Daniel removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and groaned. "Okay. Well, uh, the two people who should really be part of this are Maggie and Jacob."

Sam shook her head. "Sorry. I forgot to mention, we're not just memorializing Maggie and Jacob's family and friends. We're also saying goodbye to the Asgard."

Daniel's hands stilled. In a more solemn mood, he replaced his glasses. "That's a good idea, actually. I'll get on that."

She offered him a grateful smile. "Thanks. I know Jack will really appreciate it."

She turned to leave, but Daniel uttered a sound like he wanted to say something, and she turned back to him. "Yes?"

"Look, it's none of my business, but—"

Sam crossed her arms, steeling herself against whatever he was going to ask her, as she waited for the rest of his sentence. "But what, Daniel?"

He shrugged. "It just seems like something has changed between you two. I can't put my finger on it, but it's been different ever since Maggie and Jacob showed up. One of those unintended consequences of time travel?"

Sam didn't answer.

"Look, it's been a rough few days. Give him some time, and Jack will be back to his regular self, and you two can get back to whatever—"

"Daniel, you and I both know it's not that simple."

The archaeologist fell silent. "Some days, I think it would have been easier if I was like you. Civilian. Other days, I can't help but think my life would be easier if it had been you or Teal'c and not. . ."

Daniel shuffled his feet. "I can't imagine how you guys do it. It's got to be torture."

Sam managed a thin smile, grateful that for the most part her friends remained silent on this particular area of her life. "Not quite. Almost, but not quite. Besides, there are good days every now and again."

She motioned over her shoulder. "I should check in on Jacob and Maggie. Let them know what the plan is."

Daniel nodded. "I'll have something ready to announce at breakfast."

"Thanks."

They wore the clothes they'd brought for their appearance before the Asgard High Council. Sam, Jack, and Mitchell in their dress uniforms. Daniel, Teal'c, and Vala in professional dress. Maggie and Jacob, without their own luggage, had worn clean fatigues from the ship's supply.

"Are you going to play the cello, Colonel?"

Sam raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at Jacob. She frowned. "I don't play the cello. I mean, I've always wanted to learn, but—"

Jacob clammed up, and Maggie squeezed his hand.

Causality.

Sam looked to her other side. Jack sat, his back ramrod straight, not even turning his eyes to follow Sam's side conversation with Jacob.

Was it just the spirit of decorum that had him so uptight? His grief? Or was he more tense around the twins, seeing them as evidence of how their life should have gone?

Could still go.

She sucked in a breath. How was it that with all their discussions of causality, she'd always assumed that they couldn't have the future that some version of them had on this ship? That having the adult twins here would mess things up instead of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Jack looked down at her. "You okay?"

Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her hat and nodded. "Fine."

He must not have believed her because he slipped one of his hands into hers without a word, running his thumb over the back of her hand in an effort to help her relax.

She covered his hand with hers, catching his eye and offering him a grateful smile. Not just because he'd given in and authorized the memorial service but because he was still watching out for her. No matter how complicated things got between them.

In moments like these, she knew that no matter what tried to come between them, they'd emerge stronger and more closely connected.

If only there were no more barriers.

Daniel cleared his throat as he stepped to the front of the mess hall. "When Sam first asked me if putting together a memorial service was a good idea, I thought maybe we'd been friends too long."

He turned a smile to her, and she returned it, remembering the first time she'd seen the archaeologist back on Abydos. She had felt a kinship back then, but she could never have guessed that he would be closer to her than her own brother was now.

"But she was right. Everyone in this room has lost something precious over the last few days and weeks." His eyes migrated to Vala. "A child."

To Maggie and Jacob. "A family."

To Sam and Jack. "A future."

To the group at large. "And wrapped up in all of it, is the profound loss of one of the most influential alien civilizations we've encountered, the Asgard, one of our greatest allies since we started the Stargate program. Like others, they said we were very young, but instead of judging us, they saw our potential. They nurtured us, protected us, and even claimed to learn from us."

He bit his lip. "Most funerals and memorial services are focused on the loss of one person, but given the variety of loss here, I thought what we could do is share whatever you would like on behalf of what you are here to mourn. The truth is, that this was a mission altogether different from SG-1's usual missions, not just because we got two new members overnight or because we spent sixty years in a time dilation field or because we lost our good friends and allies. It's different because we're all going to go home and rethink a few things. Some of us will start new lives, whether by choice or by necessity. Some of us may take chances we've never considered taking before. I think we can rest assured, however, that the bonds in this room of friendship and loyalty are never going to change, no matter who may leave or who may stay. So, the rest of the time is yours to share or just to ponder what you are letting go and why. You won't offend if you stay silent. We're here for you. No matter what you can or can't say."

Sam gripped Jack's hand, but he didn't look at her. Just stared ahead.

Sam looked down at Vala, whose head was bowed as she looked at her hands. The likelihood that Vala would say anything about Adria, who had ascended only a few days before they'd left to meet the Asgard, was next to nil. Besides, she and Sam had a girls' night in after that mission. Though Vala's emotions likely hadn't been fully processed, Sam doubted she'd want to share them with such a large group.

Daniel sat beside the dark-haired alien, and they exchanged sad smiles.

As Sam's mind ticked through the people in the room, she wondered if anyone would stand besides Daniel. From Jack's posture, she suspected that it would take a jackhammer to get out whatever was going on in his mind. Mitchell might stand, but probably only so he could ease some of the awkwardness of sitting in a silent room.

Before Sam could think much more, Teal'c stood with his eyes downcast. "As first prime of Apophis, I had heard tales of the Asgard. I knew they would be formidable adversaries when the time came to challenge the false gods. I could not have known at that time how treasured their friendship would become."

Sam eyes pricked with tears, the Jaffa's measured commentary always capturing so much of what she wanted to say in fewer words than she would have thought possible.

"Though I grieve for the Asgard race, I find myself deeply affected by what might have been the end of SG-1. In honor of their memory, I pledge my loyalty and friendship to Margaret and Jacob O'Neill. If there is anything that you should require, do not hesitate to ask."

Maggie blew her nose into a tissue she had concealed in the palm of her hand. "Thank you, Teal'c."

Teal'c inclined his head before he took his seat again.

Vala stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dark skirt. "You all know that the concept of family has always been messy and complicated for me. I don't know why I ever should have hoped. . ."

She collected herself before she continued. "The reality is that I have been more loved and appreciated over the last two years with SG-1 than I ever was before. You've trusted me, even when I probably didn't deserve it—"

Daniel coughed, and Vala managed a chagrined smile.

"—okay, even when I definitely didn't deserve it, and I would not be the person I am today if you hadn't taken the chance."

She grew quiet. "I kind of wish I could talk to the me who spent sixty years of her life with you all. I'm sure there would have been tough times, but I can only imagine I would have continued to grow into a person you could perhaps, one day respect. The way I respect all of you."

She caught Maggie and Jacob's eyes and shrugged. "Well, not you two. I don't know you two—I mean, I hope one day, I can say I trust and respect you, but. . ."

Daniel stood and caught the sleeve of her dress and pulled her back to her seat.

Despite the somber atmosphere, Sam smiled.

Mitchell stood. "I don't have the same experience with the Asgard you all have, but it's just not gonna be the same to travel between galaxies without Vasjir in the control room."

Jack pulled his hand from Sam's and stood.

Her eyes widened, but instead of walking to the front of the group, he walked out of the mess hall.

Sam held her breath for a half second before she followed him.

As she exited the room, she heard Jacob's voice. "Imagine the best versions of yourselves, the ones who have let time smooth away most of their rough edges and learned what was most important because everything else was stripped away in the time dilation field. That's who my sister and I are missing today. . ."

Sam almost had to jog to catch up the General, his long strides taking him to the Bridge. At the sound of her heel clacks, Jack called over his shoulder. "Not now, Sam."

She stopped in her tracks. "If not now, then when, Jack?"

Her use of his given name did the trick, and he skidded to a stop. His shoulders stooped slightly as if he had a great weight on them, and he turned to face her.

He extended his arms as if in surrender. "It wasn't you."

"I know."

"I'm fine."

She didn't move, unflinching in her resolve. "No, you're not."

He grimaced. "Carter. . ."

She tensed. "You see, I'm not okay, and while that doesn't necessarily mean that you aren't, I can't imagine how you could be."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed. "It's the twins."

Sam stiffened. "I figured."

"It's not what you think."

She dropped her gaze. "I think you've already lost a child. So, seeing two people who claim you're their dad whom you've never met before, has to push some buttons."

He swallowed before he took a few steps closer to her. "When I see them. . ."

He stopped only a few inches away from her. "When I see them, I have to stop myself from looking around for him." He shrugged. "I know it doesn't make sense, but—in my brain. . ."

"You have three kids now."

His eyebrows shot up, surprised when she apparently finished his sentence correctly. "How did you—?"

She swallowed. "Because I can't explain it, but every time I look at them, my brain tries to find a memory that I haven't made yet. I know I have two kids, but—"

"—but I also know I don't."

She nodded, oddly pleased when he finished her sentence. "Exactly."

He put his hands on her arms. "I hate time travel."

She broke into a smile. "I'm not a big fan myself."

He released her arms with a sheepish look. "Sorry."

Her heart raced as she looked at him. "Don't apologize, Jack. I was thinking in there—when Daniel asked us to think about what we were letting go."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Okay?"

She swallowed. "I want the life the other us got."

His eyebrows jumped upward. "Sam. . ."

She didn't wait for him to finish his thought. "I mean it. I've been so consumed with trying not to get my hopes up because of causality that I almost didn't let myself admit how much I want it. All of it. You. Marriage. Kids."

He exhaled slowly.

Everything in her body was tense as she waited for some response other than the silence that greeted her. "But if you don't want—"

Before she could finish what she had to say, Jack looked for any observers and then wrapped one hand from her cheek to the back of her neck as his lips pressed against hers. Her stomach clenched as she caught a fistful of his jacket into her hand, trying to keep herself from floating away in the moment.

His lips tugged at hers, coaxing them apart, and she willingly leaned into the kiss.

He pulled away, and it took several seconds for her brain to clear enough for her to make a coherent sentence.

"Have we ever actually done that before?"

Jack thought for a second. "Once? Uh...in a locker room, I think."

Oh, right. She blushed.

"Maybe once in the Gate room?"

She stared at him. "Gate room?"

His ears turned pink. "Actually, you wouldn't remember that one. Time loop."

She blinked. "Ah."

She wondered for a moment if this was the right time to mention she'd almost kissed him on the Prometheus before she realized that she'd essentially be making out with herself if she did. . .

"Don't worry. I resigned."

She laughed at the ridiculousness of him resigning before kissing her in a ten hour time loop. "Okay."

His smile slipped. "No, I mean, I resigned."

She blinked at him. She pointed at the ground. "You mean, now?"

"I haven't turned it in yet, obviously, but yeah."

Her lips fell open. "I was going to write a letter when I got back. . ."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Sam, if they need me, they can find me. We call George Hammond in a lot more often than I think he ever expected. So, it's not like I won't still be available."

She nodded. "Okay. . ."

"But most of what they want me for is my signature. I can put that on a stamp if they want."

She bit her lip. "Jack, it makes more sense that it be me."

He rolled his eyes. "Be serious, Sam."

"I am."

He shook his head. "They need you, Sam. I wouldn't be surprised if you become the first commander of the SGC who actually knows what the scientists are talking about."

"Jack, I don't think you understand. . ."

His lips set in a grim line. "I work at the Pentagon, Sam. I think I understand more than you think I do. You're afraid that if we do this, and we go all in, you'll lose promotion opportunities."

She swallowed. "I'm not afraid, but yes. I know a few people—women—who were good officers but who were passed over because their male commanding officers were concerned about their commitment to the job."

He caught her hands in his. "I know. It's a story that happens all too often. I can't say much, but we're working on it."

She studied his face, surprised by the wave of respect and affection for him which washed over her. "That only goes to prove how much you're needed."

Jack shook his head. "That only proves that I better put my money where my mouth is. You're already a leader in the Air Force and in your scientific field. And I don't mean to toot my own horn, but if I step down. . ."

She chuckled as she followed his train of thought. "They're not going to promote me just because you retire."

He ran a thumb over her cheek. "Maybe not, but I'm in this, Sam. For good."

She leaned in and kissed him once more, the kiss lingering but more chaste than its predecessor. "Does this mean I don't have to go to Atlantis?"

He studied the curve of her face before he looked into her blue eyes. "Not if you don't want to."

She put a hand on his chest, trying to smooth the wrinkles her hand had inadvertently left behind as she clenched the fabric in her fingers. "Maybe in another life, but not this one."

He leaned in for another kiss as the voices from the mess hall started to grow louder. The Air Force officers pulled away from one another before Jack could follow through.

"Hey, guys, you okay?"

Sam and Jack nodded at Daniel's question. "Yeah. Just—you know."

Daniel's brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of them. "Okay, well, Vala made cake."

Jack waved a hand in Daniel's direction. "Well, Carter, after you."