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PART FOUR

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Nuclear Facility

Walter found Doctor Fraiser in a small room that she and Doctor Harlowe had set up as a laboratory. The petite woman was fiddling with some instruments, apparently unaware of his presence in the doorway.

"Um, Doctor Fraiser, excuse me, Ma'am."

"Sergeant." She smiled briefly at him in greeting before she turned back to her workspace again. "What can I do for you?"

"I just thought I'd let you know that Maybourne called in a while ago, Ma'am. Cassandra is safe, and so is her friend."

The tension seemed to drain from her body, and she smiled radiantly at him. "Thank you," she breathed as though it was his work that had saved her daughter.

"That's okay, Ma'am," he smiled shyly.

"Was there anything else?" she enquired politely, her eyebrows arching delicately.

"Uh… no, Ma'am," he shook his head before shuffling quickly out of the room, and crashed straight into Major Carter. "Oh! Sorry, Ma'am," he mumbled, stepping away from her hurriedly.

"It's okay, Sergeant," she offered him a slight smile, her skin glowing palely in the dimly lit hallway.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," she muttered, "a way out."

He stared at her blankly. "Out?"

"I'm not running away, Sergeant, I just want to go outside for a while. Fresh air. Taste freedom, you know?"

No, he didn't know, but then he hadn't spent the last three years locked in isolation with only other prisoners and guards for company. "Um…"

"For crying out loud, Walter, I'm not running off!" she snapped as she pushed past him angrily.

"Wait!" he called, his voice bouncing loudly up the hall. She turned silently and faced him, her eyes even bigger than usual without the thick halo of hair to soften her face. "It's this way, Major."

She grinned at him, her teeth gleaming white. "My name is Sam," she said casually.

He smiled in return, and led her to freedom.

----

"Maybourne!" Jack yelled, levelling out the aircraft.

"Coming," the ex-Colonel yelled back, appearing in the co-pilot's seat several seconds later. "What?"

"It's on autopilot," Jack announced. "You take over."

Maybourne's eyes widened. "What?"

"I need a break, Maybourne. Just don't touch anything, and yell if ANYTHING changes."

"Jack!" Maybourne argued, slightly panicked by the sound of his voice.

"Either we land the plane now, or you give me twenty minutes," Jack said icily. He just needed to close his eyes, just for a few minutes.

Maybourne nodded stiffly. "Okay. But you'll be there, right?"

"Yes." Jack rose to his feet and moved away, stopping to call back, "Don't break it!"

Cass and Bek were each sprawled against a crate, watching him silently as he moved towards them. He smiled affectionately as Cassie's large, concerned eyes speared him. "Are you really okay, Jack?"

"I'm fine, Cass," he lied, and groaned as he lowered his aching body to the ground next to her.

"You don't look fine," Bek said bluntly. He studied her for a second; hair shoulder length hair was tangled and wild, and there was dirt streaked across her face. Despite her grubbiness, he imagined that normally she was almost anal about her appearance. She raised her eyebrows defiantly, as though daring him to comment about her state of disarray.

He grinned. "You've always known how to pick them, Cass," he told her.

Cassie glared at him. "Don't you dare start!" she warned.

He held his hands up innocently, closing his eyes as he leant back against the crate. "I wasn't going to."

"Where the fuck have you been, Jack O'Neill?" she snapped suddenly.

He choked, his eyes flying open as he glanced at her sharply. "You watch that language, Cassandra Fraiser!" he warned.

"You just disappeared!" she accused, ignoring his warning, and he felt a stab of guilt prick at him. The next question was so quiet he barely even heard it. "Were you even there when the bomb went off?"

Yes. He had been there. But Carter had called him, to warn him about something. He remembered stepping outside and the air had been cold. His car keys were warm from resting in his pocket and the ground had rumbled and suddenly there had been pain and noise and heat and nothing all at once. "I was there," he said quietly.

"They said you died," she told him evenly.

"I know."

"Where were you, Jack?" she demanded, angry.

"Come here," he said. She came, curling up against him as though she was eleven again and crying because Carter was a Goa'uld. "I was in hospital for a long, long time," he said gently. "I should have died," he added.

She stiffened in his arms, and pulled away, her eyes wide as realisation dawned. "You had a symbiote," she whispered.

The flinch was instinctive.

"God... Jack…" she whispered, hugging him tightly.

"It's okay," he told her. "We're safe now."

"Yes, very safe," she agreed, relaxing against him.

He looked up; Bek was watching them silently, openly curious but sensitive enough not to ask questions. He wondered how she'd react when she found out the truth, and allowed himself a small smile. Doubtlessly it would be an interesting reaction, if her appearance was anything to go by.

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Nuclear Facility

"It's hot," Sam commented languidly, staring up at the clear blue sky peeking down at her from between the leafy green tree tops.

"Yeah," Walter Davis agreed from a few feet away. "Too hot," he added.

"No," Sam disagreed. "It's good." Her skin was sticky with sweat; the slightest hint of a breeze kissed her pale flesh coolly and brought a light tickle of the pine to her nose. She wouldn't mind seeing the ocean again, to feel the salty liquid brush against her heated skin like iced silk.

She sighed.

"It's not usually this hot here." Davis broke the silence between them.

"You come here often?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah. I was transferred here about six weeks after Doctor Fraiser was discharged."

Sam rolled over onto her side and propped her head up on her hands, watching Davis where he was perched on a rock. "Janet was discharged?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah. She had a run-in with General Bauer; he got command again after Hammond died."

She flinched visibly.

"I'm sorry," he apologised gently.

"It's okay," she said softly, rolling onto her back again and staring up at the sky once more. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," he agreed cautiously.

"Did everyone really think I'd done it?" she whispered, hoping her voice wouldn't break. "Did everyone really think that I was capable of setting that bomb and killing them?"

He didn't answer her, and Sam closed her eyes in defeat. Even if they did stop the bugs, she gained nothing. They had effectively robbed her of everything; even taken the faith and trust others had placed in her and turned it to nothing but betrayal.

"At first, no," Walter said at last. "But then they brought forward the evidence… it really looked like you did it," he admitted.

She nodded silently; there was no use blaming him. He hadn't done anything wrong.

"It was hard to know what to believe," he continued. "I knew you, I worked with you almost every day, and I knew how you felt about the Colonel. I honestly couldn't understand why you would have done it, and that made me wonder whether, despite the evidence, you hadn't."

"Was I that transparent?" she asked bitterly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About how I felt about the Colonel." It didn't seem to wrong to say it out loud, now that he was dead and she was technically dead too. No regulations or repercussions or reputations to worry about anymore.

"Like I said, Major, I knew you."

She looked at him again, twisting her neck so that the dry blades of grass grazed her cheek. "I'm sorry," she said at last.

"For what?"

"For not knowing you like that."

---

Nuclear facility

During the course of his life, Maybourne had seen many things both good and bad. He had never, however, seen a dead man return, and neither had he seen the reactions of those that cared about him when they realised he was alive.

Like now.

Fraiser was staring, her daughter forgotten as her mouth dropped open and she struggled to form coherent syllables.

"Miss me?" O'Neill asked chirpily, but Maybourne wasn't stupid; he could see the surprise and slight disbelief as he watched the strength of Fraiser's reaction.

"Colonel O'Neill!" Fraiser managed to gasp out, her face pale and shocked but a broad smile revealing her straight white teeth. "Jack." The gentleness on her voice shocked Maybourne, and if he didn't know any better he would have thought there was something between them.

"C'mere," O'Neill said gruffly, and a second later they were hugging one another fiercely. When they pulled back, Fraiser's eyes were wet and O'Neill looked distinctly uncomfortable with his arms, as though he was unsure what to do with them. Eventually, he just pushed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat roughly. "So, nice place you got here, Samuels," he remarked.

"We try," Samuels returned coolly. "Well, we're wasting time standing here, people."

"Where's Carter?" O'Neill demanded, ignoring Samuels. "Maybourne, you said Carter was here."

Maybourne glanced across at Samuels, who shrugged in return.

"Maybourne?" O'Neill was getting angry; that was bad.

"She was here, Jack," Fraiser interjected, looking uncomfortable.

"What do you mean, 'was'?" O'Neill snapped.

"She disappeared a few hours ago," Samuels interjected. "Along with Water Davis."

O'Neill's eyebrows rose. "Walter Davis?"

"Yes, that's who I said," Samuels snapped.

"We need Davis," Maybourne muttered.

"I know!" Samuels agreed vehemently, turning to face Maybourne. "I told you getting her was a bad idea. We don't need her, Maybourne, and-"

"I wouldn't go there." O'Neill's voice was quiet, but it held the sting of a rattle snake. "I would so not go there."

The silence was tense and awkward, stretching until Maybourne waited for something to snap. Nothing did snap, however, because there was movement behind them, and Maybourne turned around to see one sweaty Walter Davis entering the room.

"Davis!" O'Neill barked.

Davis' face paled and his jaw dropped open as he gaped at O'Neill.

"S… Sir?" he questioned.

"Where's Carter?"

"Outside… She wanted some fresh air," he explained brokenly, still staring at O'Neill.

"O'Neill!" Samuels called as the man in question simply pushed past Davis and strode into the hall.

"Fuck you, Samuels!" The words floated back loudly into the room, and Maybourne shrugged again as Samuels glanced at him accusingly.

Cassandra Fraiser spoke first, her voice almost childlike with disbelief as she whispered, "Sam's alive?"

---

Nuclear Facility

He hadn't allowed himself to hope that it may be true. Hadn't even let himself consider the possibility that she was alive, much less that he'd see her again.

Carter was executed yesterday, O'Neill.

What?

Didn't you know? She was the one who planted the bomb. She killed Hammond and Jackson. And you.

Carter was executed yesterday. He could still hear the words, feel the way his blood turned cold, and the world had narrowed down to a tiny little hospital room with squealing machines and coolly efficient nurses who never spoke to him.

He found her almost immediately after entering the sparse bushland, lying on her stomach with her face pressed close to the ground, palms spread as though she was trying to absorb the earth into her body.

Dry leaves and twigs had given his position away, so she knew he was there, but he couldn't bring himself to say the first words, to break the first silence between them.

"Did you have a good flight, Cass?" she asked softly.

He frowned in confused amusement. "Not a bad flight, no," he told her.

He had never seen Carter move so fast; she was up on her feet and facing him before he had even finished the sentence, crouched in a fighter's position. He saw the blood leaving her face, turning it to ice as she seemed to drink him in with her eyes.

"Hi," he muttered, suddenly awkward again.

"You… I…" She couldn't complete the sentence. For the first time ever, Sam Carter couldn't string together a coherent sentence. He should have felt quite proud of himself for being the one to accomplish that feat, but instead he felt guilt. Guilt that he was capable of putting such an expression of terror on her face.

"Yes, me Jack, you Sam," he said, trying and failing miserably to mimic Tarzan. And what had possessed him to say that anyway? Idiot, Jack.

She surprised him though. "That was lame, sir, even for you."

"Yes, I know," he agreed morosely. "Being dead for a few years does that to a person."

Well, if the first comment didn't do it, the second one definitely did. He watched her turn into wood before his eyes, her jaw stiffening and her eyes dropping invisible barriers that were more effective than her gun at keeping him away.

"I… Carter…"

"I… I thought you were dead," she said stiffly.

"Yeah, apparently you all thought that," he agreed. "I thought you were dead too."

"But you're not," she said.

"No, I'm not. And neither are you."

A small smile pulled at the edges of her lips. "No, I'm not."

"Now that we've established that-"

"How?" she asked, and suddenly it was his turn to hide behind those barriers they had perfected. "Colonel?"

He licked his lips; the air was too hot and it was closing in on him and he couldn't get away and-

"Oh God."

Carter had always been too smart for her own good, hadn't she?

"They blended you with a symbiote." It wasn't a question, and he didn't deny it.

He watched her silently, seeing the way the thoughts were spinning furiously behind her large blue eyes, the way her pale brow crinkled in thought as she ran ideas through her mind and discarded them.

She reached a conclusion, and when she met his gaze again, her eyes were disbelieving. "Sir," she started, and then stopped herself. "Colonel-"

"Jack," he interrupted, wasting just a few more minutes before they had to go into it.

"Jack," she said, trying the word. It rolled over her tongue smoothly, and in spite of the situation, he smiled at her. "Jack."

"Sam," he smiled at her.

She smiled back, but it faded quickly. "They're here, aren't they?"

He nodded.

"Fuck, they really did screw up," she breathed.

"Oh yeah," he agreed.

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