Never Say Never Novella
Chapter 8
Doctor Samantha Carter kicked the deflated tire of her black Indian motorcycle. She couldn't believe it. She had a flat in the middle of nowhere with no spare. She'd already repaired it twice, only to ride a few more miles on the pot-holed gravel road before the tread split wide opened. Hopeless came to mind, even for her.
She squinted at the dusk-tinged sky and slipped off her scratched shades. Mid-autumn, it'd be dark in a few hours and another cold damp night alone in her sleeping bag. She'd yet to dry out from the last thunderstorm. She never should have left the communal campsite thirty clicks back. Not to mention they'd warned the gravel road was impassible. The heavy rains this week hadn't helped. Her road bike wasn't meant for rugged off-road excursions. Well, she could make camp or keep walking, but to where? The cities were no longer safe and that's why she'd done like so many and headed for God's country. She'd have preferred the northern Rockies, but it was too late in the year for that expedition. Snow would already be falling there.
Good and nasty types sought refuge in Earth's dense forests. The more rugged and natural the terrain proved, the less chance of being hunted. Knives, spears, bows and arrows had become the preferred weapons. Metal weapons, stun guns, and bulletproof vests were hot targets for the Replicators. Sam had shed her pistol and vest years ago. Besides bullets were hard to come by. She'd learned to rely on her self-defense skills and Bowie knife.
Still the Wraith and Replicators did have Achilles' heels. The Wraith hated the heavily populated areas and forests as they had a rough time chasing prospective meals. That much had been learned from the Atlantis teams. The Replicators disliked damp cold. One would think since they traveled in freezing space the cold wouldn't affect them. It wasn't the cold. It was the moisture. Sam soon determined not just moisture irritated the metallic bugs. Natural resources like water, oil, dirt, and all carbon based life. That explained one reason their first excursion to Earth, at least, what she'd read in the reports regarding a Russian Submarine, had failed.
Basically, the elements that made up this blue planet couldn't feed or help the Replicators replicate or evolve. No doubt the reason they'd yet to destroy Earth. Being far from the technologically advanced Asgard colonies, we were slim pickings.
Sam unhitched her backpack from the bike and hoisted it over her shoulders. She then dragged the heavy bike off the path or what there was of one, and covered it with brush and twigs. She couldn't take the chance of a Replicator finding the cycle. Nope, she didn't want her precious bike to become a feast for the metal-hungry bugs or blown to bits a Wraith.
Hopefully, she'd come across other outland citizens with wheels, who could spare enough rubber to mend the tire. If not, she was in deep trouble. Bad enough she'd been low on fuel. Since the invasion, being out in the open at night was not wise. Her mind set Sam started her upward hike on the single lane road of the backwoods of Minnesota.
For grins, she tested her cellular. No luck. There wasn't a tower within miles and even if there were it didn't work. Why she carried it made no sense. Just something else to attract Replicators. She should have listened to Daniel and headed northwest, when he and Janet left DC over two years ago. But she'd been foolish, thinking there'd be safety in the Pentagon's bomb shelters with other scientists and Chiefs of Staff. And for eighteen months there had been, but eventually the Replicators found them out. Those who could, escaped. Now there was no government, no military, just Replicators and Wraith everywhere.
Every organized government in the world crumbled. Small pockets of resistance came and went, but no one could defeat the two alien armies that had decided to use Earth as their battlefield, winner take all. So far it remained a tie with Earth being slowly destroyed in the process.
There was however still hope in one man both aliens feared. A man who was said to have the powers of a lost civilization called the Ancients. The man, a former Air Force officer named, O'Neill, whom Daniel had recently hooked up with somewhere in this region.
Sam owed Daniel a humongous apology and explanation for her hostile behavior when she'd injured him months' back. She suffered occasional bouts of disorientation. Some people thought her psychotic. Maybe so. That'd explain the bizarre dreams she regularly experienced. The only thing she remembered was that she'd threatened to, 'gut Daniel.' Why, she'd no idea. At the time, she'd believed he was a Replicator. After all, Replicators had perfected how to mimic bruises and bleeding. What Replicators couldn't do was mimic body secretions and odors. Daniel had smelled unclean, sweating. But Sam hadn't analyzed that factor until days later, only to find he'd left her behind.
So here she was. But where was here? And was she any closer to finding her friend? For all she knew the last outpost known as New Haven could have been compromised by now.
Heck, there was nothing far as the eye could see but rugged forest terrain, rivers, lakes and lots of frightened, wild animals. Sam swore that every living creature had migrated here. The one place the Replicators had no need to visit, while the Wraith rarely drop in to harvest because of the dense tree populated area. Despite her circumstances, this was the safest Sam had felt in years. Over a hundred miles from nowhere was where she'd wanted to be and gotten her wish. The alone part added to the irony of her situation.
As she trudged up the incline heading west, Sam reminisced about splitting with Jonas Hanson. Along with the fact, he'd set himself up as the leader of a rag-tag militia intent to rule the world, Jonas was bonkers. By the time Sam realized that he'd set his sights on her. Although once infatuated with Jonas, Sam refused to commit to the wacko man. Then things turned ugly.
Jonas bragged that he had made a pack with the leader of the Replicators, Fifth. Sam didn't stay around to hear the specifics of that bargain. She escaped with a price on her head. Even though the world was at war Jonas would not give up until he reclaimed or killed her. Sam would rather die. After several human-like Replicators had befriended her, Sam no longer trusted anyone, especially people she knew.
Man, oh, man, what Sam wouldn't give for an honest strong man who'd love and respect her independent nature. A relationship of equality, where they watched each other's back. She'd realized that wouldn't happen with Jonas. Besides he walked the lunatic fringe. Which she admittedly liked. Now if she could find someone who walked that dangerous line but loved Samantha Carter for who she was, she'd be happy. Long as she could remember Sam had dreamt of a tall, silver-haired man with penetrating brown eyes, she called her Silver Fox.
Every night he came to her and they'd make passionate love until sunrise. Each time, he'd profess his love for her. "Okay, forever and always," he'd tell her in a masculine tenor that made her quiver with need. Sam recalled how at the end of those erotic dreams, he'd be sucked into a dark black hole. Each time she awoke drenched in perspiration, clinging to the bedding, weeping for the loss of a lover she'd never had.
Always? Sam sighed. For now she'd settle surviving another day. Always, seemed as far away as her dream lover. Sam had no one but herself to depend upon. Her parents had died during the first wave of invasions, and far as she knew, her brother Mark and his family were also dead. Because the Replicators had discovered how to impersonate humans, people were distrustful in general.
Meanwhile, wild and domestic animals were highly treasured as they could detect a replicated human. Basically they wanted nothing to do with the replicators and often attacked them out of self-preservation. The opposite worked for the Wraith, as animals were fearful and most often tried to flee. Well, all except, Thor, Sam's German Shepard mix. Man, she missed that mutt. He'd been her guardian and companion, but five months ago she'd given him to a needy family with children for protection. As much as Sam wanted another dog she longed more for human companionship.
An hour later, she peered at the boiling sun that began its descent into the western sky. She had to make camp. Sam halted when she spotted a clearing, then a meadow just past the crook in the road and a manmade stonewall. A dog barked. A horse neighed. She wondered if someone farmed—
"Hey lady!"
Sam ducked too late as the horse's hooves cleared the four-foot wall. Agonizing pain fired through her skull.
As she collided with the hard packed earth she heard a man yell, "Crap!"
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"Shit!"
"Swearing won't help, Dad."
"I'm open for suggestions." Jack O'Neill rolled his eyes at his son, before turning to the unconscious woman on his bed.
"Hey." Charlie curiously peered over his shoulder. "I could ride Star or take the four wheeler to the Jackson's—"
"No. It's too late for you to be out alone by horse or wheels. You know the regs. Besides, I called Doc. She's got critically wounded in OR, but will be back ASAP. We just have to get 'her' awake and keep 'her' that way as long as possible."
"Maybe if you swear some more, Dad." Grace chirped from his lap as she gazed at the sleeping woman with a wide-eyed recognition. Jack had tried his best to keep the Sam double a secret from his family, but failed. Oddly, they were dealing better than he was. His gut hurt and his heart thought it'd burst with joy—false joy.
Planting a kiss on Grace's head, Jack hoisted the curly haired blonde off his lap and directed her toward Charlie.
"Maybe if you guys finish supper, she'll have something to eat when she wakes up." He groused.
"Gotcha." Charlie sighed and trudged toward the doorway with Grace ahead of him laughing. Soon as she'd left the room, the young man stared back at the bed then swiped a lone tear. "It's hard to believe. Sure it's not her, Dad?" The tear disarmed Jack. Charlie hadn't cried since Sam vanished.
"No. Well," He forced himself to look more composed than he felt. "It's possible."
"If this is mom, they, um, Fifth probably messed with her head, ya know." The young man reminded him.
"Know that." Jack turned away to hide his misting eyes.
"Remember the precautionary regs. She could be another Replicarter."
"Charlie!" Jack snapped. "I make the rules. The odds are she's not our Samantha."
"Yes, sir." The youth stiffened and nodded. "Coz she looks like the last one that almost . . ."
Jack met his son's troubled expression. "I won't be fooled this time, son."
"I know."
A moment fell between them before Charlie added, "Good news. The animals didn't spook like they did around the Replicater. Gotta admit this one looks exactly like mom. Even got that cute mole under her left eye." His lower lip trembled. "Course, so'd the bug one. Geez, Dad, what if they evolved again. If they can't be detected by the dogs, if she's, its . . ."
"Charlie." Jack walked over and gave the taller young man a fatherly hug. "This will be rough on everyone, son. And you're right, the animals didn't spook and Thor went ape when he saw her, in a good way. But that doesn't mean we're going to take unnecessary chances. Like you said the Replicators could have perfected, evolved. They've done it with dogs and—."
"But you believe she's mom?"
"I believe with God anything's possible. Besides Replicators don't sweat, or . . ." she'd wet her underwear, no doubt a result of the head trauma.
"But they can replicate internal human functions."
"Bleeding yes. Not bodily exterminates."
"You mean?"
"Yes. She um, her bladder and bowels work." He glanced back at Sam's perspiring face.
"Sweet!" The young man swiped at his leaky nose and grinned. "Holy Hannah, Dad, mom found her way home."
"Yes, well, let's hope so." He gazed at the miracle occupying their bed. After almost three years his lover, wife, and mother of his children, Samantha O'Neill was home. He hoped. He'd need more proof, but from what'd he seen of the woman in his bed she appeared to be Sam.
Jack spoke to Charlie softly. "This doesn't leave the room, son."
Charlie nodded. "Yes, sir. I figured that much. So um, you going to be okay with her alone?" He waggled his brown brows as Janet and Grace walked up and Janet tugged Charlie's wrist for brotherly attention.
"Ya think?" Jack sniffed and settled into the chair beside Sam.
"Well," he halted. "Let's face it, she's hot! And ya haven't been with anyone since mom . . ."
Jack glared over his shoulder.
"Right. I mean, other than Cass and some of the female base personal you don't talk to women much and . . ."
"You're digging yourself a deep hole, son." Jack warned.
"He always does." Grace giggled, reminding them she was privy to their exchange.
"Brat!" Charlie scowled at her, but the love shining in his brown eyes was for her alone.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Zip it, kids." Jack made eye contact with the oldest as he reached down and lifted Janet into his arms.
"I'm just saying." The young man blushed and shrugged at the pretty occupant of Jack's bed.
"And I appreciate your bald-faced concern," Jack muttered. "But I'm perfectly fine and no blue-eyed, female is going to unhinge me."
"If you say so." Charlie chuckled and left before Jack threw something at him. "Coz, Grace and Janet do it on a daily basis."
Another burst of giggles.
"Irreverent brats." Jack smiled as Charlie left only to start giving orders to the rest of the O'Neill brood in the living room. One would think they were Air Force.
"Um, Dad?" Grace had yet to leave the bedroom.
"What, sunshine?"
"Is she our mother?"
Jack's jaw tightened and he shut his eyes. It'd been an innocent hopeful question, especially from Grace. He couldn't tell her the truth. Not until he knew without a reasonable doubt the woman occupying his bed was their Sam. "No, Honey. She's just a stranger, who needs our help."
"Oh." She sighed out. "But she looks like mom and Teal'c said she's real."
"He did, huh?" Jack tried not to smile. Teal'c bless his heart was the eternal optimist.
"Yep, said she's our mother who the Replicators took long ago, but now she's back and—"
"Grace." Jack said wearily, but she kept on.
"And that she loves you always."
"Whatever," he muttered then softly ordered, "Now go help your brothers and the others fix supper and tell Teal'c to call it a day planting, I need to speak with him before he goes home."
"K." She sounded hurt until he winked and blew her a kiss. "Got-it," she giggled.
"Good, now go share that kiss with everyone else."
Smiling she turned to leave, but said over her shoulder. "Dad, it's not just because she looks like mom. She is mom. I just know it, here." She touched her heart and hurried out of the room.
Expelling a breath past his lips, Jack looked back at the woman beneath the patch-worked quilt. Charlie was right. She was hot! A feral groan escaped him and he peeled the coverlet from off her black leather clad body to her waist. Her cotton briefs and leather pants were being laundered.
She dressed like a biker, but then lots of folks wore leathers, wool or cotton these days. Anything synthetic was not a wise chose. The Replicators were attracted to all things not natural based. Not that they devoured synthetics, but like radar it directed them to metal resources to consume and humans to destroy.
Jack refocused on the long legged woman, who's every minute physical detail he knew by heart. If he could risk it, he'd make sure the mole was in it's 'for his eyes only' spot. But he didn't. She'd lost significant weight and her high cheekbones stood stark against her freckled sunburned complexion. Her facial moles were perfect, one on her left cheek and the other on the right side of her chin. Despite dark circles etching her eyes, she hadn't seemed to age, but then why would she, if she were an Ancient.
Jack closed his eyes and reflected on how three months after Sam's abduction Fifth made another appearance. Okay, not exactly the way it went down. Fifth hijacked Jack. Not even Daniel knew about the incident. And that's why Jack found it harder than ever to forgive himself. He'd made a decision that changed everything, including his wife's fate. Jack traded himself for Samantha, but with the agreement he could say goodbye to his family.
Two days later as promised, Sam was back or so they'd all thought. Fifth tried to pull a fast one and had replaced Sam with another Carter Replicator. Trouble was the Replicarter flaws were a dead giveaway. Such as fake Sam didn't deal well with infants or children, and most obvious with animals. Being rescued as a four-week pup by Sam their dog, Thor, thought she was its mom. That's when Jack knew the truth.
Thankfully they had the newest Replicator Disrupter weapon and without hesitation Teal'c blew the impersonator to kingdom come in front of the children. Jack had a lot of explaining to do. It took months before Grace forgave him or Teal'c. For once, Jack was glad he'd not done the necessary dirty deed.
From the moment all bets were off. With Rodney McKay now heading all things technical they strengthened the present security system for the new headquarters for the SGC. It was primarily based after Atlantis's defense shield. However this shield encompassed a much larger area than Atlantis. Jack also had Maybourne incorporate breeding and training programs for dogs to detect Replicators and Wraith.
The first year after the invasion Jack spent months away from the kids, trying to organize resistance as well as to find Sam. His gut insisted she was on Earth, but Fifth concealed the Replicator's headquarters too well. Physically and emotionally beaten, Jack realized he needed to take care of the living, their children. Sam would have wanted it that way and they'd previously agreed that if one of them were captured or died, their children came first. So that's what Jack did. He compartmented his grieving heart. Some days he wondered if he still had a heart.
Back when project Safe Haven had first been nothing but a pipe dream, Sam suggested that if anything horrific happened to Earth or to either of them, this is where they'd bring the kids. Because here, they were not only safe but had a means of escape Jack had yet to employ because it meant giving up on Sam.
Night and day he prayed Sam would escape and find her way home. This last year an undercover operative's report landed on Jack's desk. Sam had been spotted in D.C. After engaging in conversation the spy believed it was Colonel Carter. Daniel volunteered to follow-up on the report. A week after he arrived in Virginia, he found Sam hiding out in an abandoned brownstone townhouse near the ruins of D.C. Not just any brownstone. It had been Jack's place of residency while he'd managed Homeworld Security. Unfortunately, her memories had been scrambled—a lot.
She believed she was single and had never heard of the Stargate program, let alone the Goa'uld, Jaffa, Replicators, or Wraith until employed with the Pentagon as a civilian scientist the year before the alien's attack. She acknowledged knowing Daniel, but accused him of being a Replicator sent to take her back to Jonas Hanson. One problem, Hanson had died over twenty years ago, swallowed up by the Stargate. Someone had intentionally played scrabble with his wife's brain. Fifth!
Daniel always traveled with a dog from the canine unit. The Golden Retriever had given Sam a thorough sniff job before she and Daniel argued. The dog's friendly reaction proved she was human. She was Sam. Daniel explained the dog would not be with him were he a Replicator. Sam stated she'd been tricked before and that Replicators could now mimic animals. True. A no win situation.
Hence, Sam refused to accompany him and instead fled. Daniel chased her down and got a deep knife slash to his right arm for his efforts. Sam disarmed him and warned that if he touched her again, she'd gut him like a bass. Interesting analogy since Jack had taught her how to do gut fish. Point is Daniel believed her. Jack could picture their volatile encounter. As capable as Daniel was defending himself there'd be no contest, she would have won. So, Sam got away. Daniel put tracking hounds on her scent, but failed to find her. He hung around the unstable city a few more days then returned to tell Jack the bittersweet news.
Although Jack used every resource available there were no more Sam spottings. Daniel agreed not to tell anybody, even Cassandra. That last order had been hard, Jack knew, but he didn't want to raise his children's hopes. For the next few months Jack consistently fought the urge to chuck everything and go after his wife.
Now whether by Fifth or God's hand Sam had been returned to him, but at what cost? He'd remain wary and would not let her into his heart. Not until he knew she hadn't been booby-trapped by Fifth. God help them all. If he sensed any danger toward his family he'd kill her, himself.
Jack focused on the woman in his—their bed. Her golden blonde hair draped her shoulder in a French braid. When Jack fingered the braided hair something stirred his memories and more importantly his heart. "So beautiful," he murmured, "So hot."
Sam's hand slipped off her chest. Jack gulped as his gaze settled on her bosom. Even on her back her breasts jutted out from the leathers. More than a mouthful was a waste, he'd once been told. Not true, he grinned, not true at all. Jack unconsciously traced the curve of her right breast and heard her breath hitch.
Crap! Jack felt a southern stirring, an ache only Sam could instigate to a degree he had trouble maintaining control. Yanking the blanket up to her neck, he pushed away and dragged a shaking hand through his hair.
"This is nuts." He checked her pulse at the base of her neck. It was strong and regular. Jack eased the ice pack from the back of her head and flipped it, so the colder side was against the knob on her head.
"Sure wish I knew whether you're real, Dorothy." He sighed and gently trailed his hand across her bruised right cheek. He'd previously checked her backpack, but found no identification. Not that it mattered now days. No one cared. "Umm," she hoarsely murmured and leaned into the palm of his hand, trapping it between her face and the pillow.
"Och!" The heat of her soft cheek almost unraveled him. Man, he'd not felt like this since he and Sam had—It'd been so long! Too long! He yanked his hand away and rose from his chair when her eyes fluttered open.
"Who—are—you? Where?" she slurred. The fear in her eyes kept him anchored.
"Supper's ready!" Charlie yelled from the kitchen.
"Okay," Jack called back then looked at the outlander. "Maybe I should be asking you that?" He decided to play dumb. Besides, dumb he could do.
She touched her head and the ice pack behind it then winced. "I'm . . ."
"Yes?" He urged settling back into the winged-back chair beside her. He leaned forward to peer upon her confused expression. One he rarely saw on his Samantha.
"Horse?" She cleared her throat and did that Turtle Dove thingy with her chin. That expression he knew all too well. Jack's defenses lowered.
"Yeah." He nodded regretfully. "Sorry 'bout that. I'd jumped the wall and didn't see you until it was too late."
"Oh." She groaned and closed her blue eyes.
"Hey!" he gently shook her. "Stay with me, huh? You got a nasty concussion. Doc will be here in the morning to check you out."
"Doc?" She blinked several times as if trying to focus. "Janet?"
"No. Now how many fingers am I holding?" He held two.
"Three--four," she sighed out. "Feel sick . . . " She clenched her stomach.
"Not good." He frowned and leaned forward.
Teal'c entered the bedroom. "She is awake, O'Neill?" He strolled over and turned up the gas lantern on the bedside table, chasing away the shadows of the darkened room.
"Yeah, but seeing double with a belly ache." He'd spent too much time around kids.
"Indeed. Seeing two of you could make any woman—"
Sam gagged and spewed over Jack's blue jeans and bare feet.
"Crap!" He glared at Teal'c, then back at her.
"Sorry." She moaned and flopped back on the bed wiping her soiled mouth.
Jack flashed back to the umpteen times Sam had morning sickness and her once monumental drunk at O'Malley's. He always got initiated. Some things never changed.
"She is Tau'ri, O'Neill?"
"Doh," sarcasm laced his voice. "Unless the Replicators have created a biologically correct version. Which means all those little bitsy pieces of undigested food and stomach fluid are bugs!"
"Ew!" JJ walked in and stared at his dad's vomit stained clothes, "Gross! I can smell it way out here."
Jack shuddered and then glanced at his guest, who looked deathly pale. "Something tells me she won't be eating Charlie's stew, son."
"Me either!" JJ gagged and went for towels to clean up the mess.
"And I believe, Colonel Samantha O'Neill is finally home." Teal'c arched his dark brows and smiled.
"Yeah, that'd be sweet, T, absolutely sweet." More than ever, Jack wanted to believe. However, looking down at the blonde angel in his bed he sensed a demon in disguise.
There was reason his gut ached and it wasn't gas.
End of Chapter Eight