A/N: I am feeling generous today. Both this and an all-new chapter of Forgive Me? Well..

This is for all you Sam/Lantash/(Martouf)/(Jolinar) shippers out there who have been waiting to torch me for the Sam/Jack shipping the latest chapters. I felt like I needed a proper, emotional goodbye not actually being a goodbye. I think it's very Martouf-ish, but we only got to see Lantash shine through in few episodes. My Lantash isn't as subtle, though, more blunt. And he probably still mourns for Jolinar, but is willing to see her mistakes. Anyway, the flashback is very much about Lantash/Sam.

Disclaimer: I sadly cannot admit or claim to own anything even remotely recognizable as Stargate. The franchise is someone else's genius. Bastards – well, not for the creating/producing/directing/portraying part. Just the owning.

Changing Circumstances – part/chapter four

When we are no longer able to change a situation – we are challenged to change ourselves – Viktor Frankl

She was slowly wakening. Carefully and drowsily, her movements echoed by headache and thunderous remnants of brain overload, Sam awoke with a massive bang. It took her minutes to confusedly recognize the infirmary for what it was. It was strange. She instructed her body to move, and it did, but it was slurred and speech didn't come to her as easily. Her groan nearly hurt as well.

"Samantha," a worried voice said and her eyes shot to see Lantash by her side, standing alerted by her consciousness. "You fainted."

She looked at him and swallowed, trying to speak but the dryness in her throat and confusion was too much for her to use words. She hoped he understood. She watched as he interpreted the despair in her blue eyes, watched as his features softened and hardened at the same time. Felt his hand caress the side of her head, felt herself lean into the comfort as she mentally called out for Pakhet and received no answer but a hollow nothing. She leaned into Lantash's touch as she realized her companion was gone.

Sobs followed. Rage and confusion followed suit. She cried as she felt the hollowness within, how her thoughts almost echoed in emptiness of her mind. She had never felt so horribly alone.

Lantash seemed to understand. He said nothing but was the only one she allowed close. She cried until she could no longer cry, till her tears were dry and nothing left but a ricocheting loneliness. She was so tired. Tired of crying, of the internal echoes and imprints left by Pakhet; Sam nearly snorted but found the action too raw for her throat. To think that a mere three weeks with a symbiote could have this kind of impact on her was ridiculous. Yet the feeling of abandonment stuck in her.

"Sh-she's gone," Sam cried tearlessly into Lantash's chest. For hours she'd said nothing, just cried and sobbed ruthlessly without reason or explanation.

His hand followed the line of her hair, now straightened by this repeated action. The waves from Pakhet's braid were gone, another painful reminder of her loss. "I thought so."

The tone wasn't a 'I told you so', but the tone of fellow loss, like he understood the situation and mourned for her. Sam realized that this must be like when host and symbiote were separated. Never before had she been closer to Lantash's loss over Martouf.

"When a Tok'ra loses a host, we mourn for years. The bond between ones blended is remarkably beyond comparison. Pakhet's sacrifice was a noble one."

Sam, who couldn't see the noble in the action, only selfishness and abandonment, chose to listen to the first part os his words. "Was this how you felt when Martouf died?"

Lantash's body stiffened but his voice gave away no hostility. "It's... different for a symbiote. The loss is equally great on our part, but I imagine that the feeling of intensive loss and abandonment are the same. Martouf wasn't responsible for his death; neither was you to blame, but I watched and felt his last breaths. There is nothing more devastating but to feel your companion's demise. I think Pakhet tried to minimize that feeling but unsuccessfully. She did manage to not release the toxin, saving you." He looked at her adoringly. "And for that I am grateful."

Sam looked down, suddenly feeling weird in the arms of Lantash. While she had said her goodbyes honestly a mere few hours ago (or was it days?) it now felt like everything had changed.

"I feel so.. alone," she admitted as she sat up in the hospital bed. The room blurred for a moment, but then it regained sharpness. She was dizzy but not enough to escape this conversation. Talking with Lantash was probably the closest she came to finding a fellow understander.

"It'll pass. I can't promise you, but bonds so freshly broken are hard to survive. Of the hosts who outlive their symbiotes, many find this feeling of loss and abandonment so intense."

"It hurts so bad, Lantash," Sam whispered, looking subtly around and seeing no people in sight. Then she remembered her cries of hurt, her demands at no-one touching her or coming close. Her agonizing screams.

"Dal mek creon te shree tal'ma," Lantash solemnly stated, grief in his voice. Sam translated it to something like 'our love does not end in death'. She thought it was appropriate and yet ambiguous. They shared so many losses and reunions. Jolinar and Lantash and Martouf (and Rosha however briefly). Martouf and Sam and Lantash. Of a foursome only the two of them remained. Lantash and Sam, survivors of their respective tragedies.

Slowly, she said: "Elara."

She noticed his intake of breath at the mentioning of their daughter. He did not move or stiffen, but smiled forcefully. "She is with Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Fraiser."

Sam relaxed some, but still found her worry near. For the first time since awakening without Pakhet, she worried for someone else. Elara. Who the Tok'ra knew of. Although a voice in the back of her head screamed for reassurance, she knew that her team members – former or not – would not let anyone take her child away. She hoped.

"I remember the night on Elaria. Martouf thought that you would find the stars amazing. He did always love stargazing more than traveling amongst the stars," Lantash said slowly.

"Me too. I could never remember the name, but I guess I did. It suited Ellie." She retreated, mourning yet another loss. "I never knew you survived."

"The scientists of the Tok'ra fought long. Once I was able to retake a host, I took Alaric as my companion. But he is young," the symbiote told, nearly chuckling. Sam understood; young in lieu of the word primitive and naïve. Although Alaric looked no younger than Martouf, she knew that Lantash kept Martouf young and agile. It felt weird to think about him and those aspects after his death.

"I am glad that you survived, though," Sam admitted and exhaled. "You have seen Elara."

"She is beautiful, Samantha. More than Martouf and I could have ever hoped for. I never knew if you chose to continue the pregnancy. With the many dangers of SG-1 and the Goa'uld.."

He did not have to say much. She knew why his concerns were well-placed. "I quitted. For Elara. I kept it a secret until now. No-one knew. Now everyone does."

"It certainly explains the Colonel's reactions," Lantash noted. "And the secrecy of the Tok'ra."

"I cannot believe my father initiated this. To expose Elara to this madness! I never thought.. or perhaps I did," she shamefully admitted.

"He did not know?" Lantash asked, genuinely surprised.

She shook her head in reply. No, she had kept him out of the loop – although managed so under great secrecy – and told Mark never to say anything. This had been bound to happen, yet she found herself foolishly betrayed by the actions of Selmak and her father. Elara was no means or threat. She was a child, a three-year-old child with countless opportunities and potential futures. None of them would involve stargates, Sam had vowed that years ago when she birthed her. Why had her father not seen that?

"Elara is uncertain grounds. She is a true miracle, Samantha, and an oddity of this world. Do not hate him for his mistake," Lantash said in a very wise tone. She often forgot how old he was. How many losses had he not experienced?

She changed the subject. "Our time has passed, has it not?" With the eyes of a child, she looked up at him.

He sighed hopelessly. "We each have matters to attend to. The bond between the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri will have taken a hit once this is over. Things change over time. I would hope for, but not expect, to leave on good terms?"

Sam nodded. "I want that, too." She felt weird speaking in I's and me's and not we's and ours. The longing for Pakhet's companionship resurfaced, stinging like something that would never heal properly. "That feels so weird. Me."

"You never spent enough time with Jolinar to realize the potential between host and symbiote. It would have been worse if you had spent more time with Pakhet. You two seemed very.. compatible."

"She was nice. Kind, honest. Like a friend," Sam contemplated, thinking about the times where Pakhet had respected her wishes. The slow-burning anger she felt had quieted. Still raw and fiery, she still remembered the times where Pakhet had offered sanctuary from hell.

"Odd comparison, especially to a Goa'uld." Lantash paused and spoke before Sam could snicker a vice reply to that blasphemous statement. "But she was Tok'ra. In the end. Maybe she has been for decades, but to me, she is the essence of Tok'ra."

"Is?" Sam asked, noticing his choice of words. Lantash's eyes darkened respectfully, solemnly.

"Some of her lives on in you, does it not?" he pointed out. "That is a gift, no curse. To overcome one's basic instincts must have taken great effort."

"I never considered her an enemy." Sam spoke slowly, lost in memory. "I hated her in the beginning. It was.. different, from when Jolinar..."

"What Jolinar did was never Tok'ra, Samantha, but forgive her. She had lost her way."

"I think I have. Forgiven her. I could never access her memories. Not without technology. But imprints, sure. With Pakhet, everything was so clear from the beginning. Intentions, feelings, sensations. She knew I had been host to Jolinar," she said.

"It is true that when a symbiote enters a new host, the access is almost immediately. True in some cases; others take years to accept the new blending, Tok'ra as well. It depends upon the nature of the host. Trust needs to be earned. But it is truly extraordinary to hear you speak so softly of a forced blending. Your forgiveness is great, Samantha."

"I must've been hard on hear. I mean, with the experiences with Jolinar, I was hard on her. She felt it. The distrust, the loathing, the hatred of the situation. But I letted it go eventually. I think she forgave me," Sam admitted; she did a lot of that. She thought of how horribly rude she was to Pakhet. Brutal honesty was hurtful like that.

"It sounds like she was wise," Lantash said with an admiration; whether directed at Sam or at Pakhet, she was not aware.

"A good person. Genuinely sorry for what she had done and complied with. She hid things from me, but she never deceived me. I expected her to."

"You two have blended very fast fairly quick. To present yourselves with such honesty and fellowship... I am not sure we would have been able after three weeks of blending," Lantash declared.

"Circumstances," Sam said bitterly. "In some aspects, she was as forced as I. Ba'al is.. cruel. In many ways, he is exactly what the Goa'uld stands for."

"I would not have accepted such a statement from you before. But given what you know now, you are no longer as... young.. as your fellow Tau'ri. But Ba'al is unusually cruel. He likes pain." Lantash looked at her almost sympathetically. He caressed her face casually. "I must ask you, how did you plan your escape? The re-modifications of the kara'kesh were brilliant."

Sam quickly explained Ba'al's last minute informing of his plans. "With Pakhet's knowledge of the device – I could never make it work on my own – and my knowledge of the components and their technical workings, we designed it to emit a pulse that made its weaponry beam through his personal shield."

"Impressive," Lantash acknowledged. "But you must rest. I have kept you up for too long."

"Wait," Sam whispered, feeling her powers reduce. "Will you be here when I wake up?"
Lantash looked uncertain, but after a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "I will try my best to be."

"Wait," Sam repeated, much to her own surprise. Her words were slurred. "... Can I meet Alaric?" Her eyes pleaded at him.

He frowned in confusion, but lowered his head and let his new host resurface. Of course, she did not know how long they had been together, so new was all relative. When the young man looked up, the green eyes sparkled differently and Sam was able to tell the difference. Lantash had been right; Alaric did not yet possess the wisdom of experience and peace of mind that had defined Martouf. But, having the memories of Lantash and Martouf, he already knew that.

"Alaric."

The young man before her responded to the name. He looked as if he had no idea what to say. Sam could sympathize. What did you say to your symbiote's former host's, your predecessor's, lover and the mother of said predecessor and symbiote's daughter? Sam had no clue. She could tell the difference in body language. Even though Lantash kept him calm, Alaric seemed edgy.

"I don't bite. And it's as weird for me as it is to you," she said in what she hoped was her calm voice.

"I know," Alaric said a bit too quick. "I can feel two people's love for you. Yet I have never met you. It feels like I have, though," he replied, managing to smile. Then his face darkened in grief. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Pakhet lives on, as Lantash said. Hopefully, you will have many lifetimes to get to know Lantash. I passed him judgment when I first met him, seeing only him as an intruder to Martouf. But he is a really nice being. And I love him."

Alaric nodded. "It is strange," he admitted sheepishly. "Everything I encounter, Lantash has had some sort of experience and tells me to calm down because he has seen it before. But this," Alaric smiled, "is even strange to Lantash. In a good way. He has never letted me know about you and him. Martouf's memories are something I don't know about. Periods of mourning. My people respect that."

Sam felt content knowing that no matter how alone Lantash would be in future assignments, he would be accompanied with Alaric, who seemed to be a great person. A little young, a little eager, like all recruits. He held potential. He was no Martouf, but she felt safe letting him go to a person like Alaric. "Then farewell, Alaric."

Sam awakes with a jerk from the trip down memory lane. She looks around and assesses that she must have slumbered off. It happens occasionally. Her back aches when she turns and she cringes but gives herself a few minutes to think about that day four years ago.

She remembers that raw feeling of abandonment and isolation. Much after is pretty much pain because of the experimental trials on her suppressants, which she has now been clean off for two weeks. None of the more violent memories have returned, but this memory is more clear to her than it was before the pregnancy and the off-medication period. It is one of her more fonder memories, even though it involves loss, pain, hurt and abandonment. She doesn't know why she has made that memory surface. While she misses Jack – for reasons unmentioned – she is neither betrayed or lonely. She keeps busy with day-to-day tasks, like driving Ellie to and from school and her Friday riding lessons. Sam has made herself a promise to be more open to the idea of Ellie riding permanently.

Ellie has told her much about riding. Only yesterday did it occur to Sam that some on the experiences may be otherworldly in origin. While initially shrugging it off as how circumstances are, she now wonders if she should keep a more open policy about Ellie's memories from Lantash. Huh. Maybe that has been what triggered the memory. Despite it being what brought them together, Lantash and her never spoke of what would happen about Ellie's memories. It has, however, been discussed on a national level. To allow Ellie to go to a normal school with clearance-less parents? Could the Air Force and the Stargate Program afford such a risk? Sam had been both relieved and concerned when they agreed and approved to sending Ellie to a public school. It has been Jack's casual attitude towards it and his argumentative responses towards the idea that had finally convinced her. Besides, Ellie knew it would be disastrous if she told anyone. Smart kid.

With this new child – a boy – comes new opportunities. She has already planned how to inform Jack, somewhat. She is starting to show a little bit. She is looking forward to his return in two weeks' time. She is anxious for things to return to normal. She likes having Jack around, and she wants to have made a decision for living arrangements before the baby arrives. About that she has wondered too. Janet has flown in once to check up on her, them agreeing for her not to come to the SGC until she has told Jack. Worst case scenario is somebody slipping up to Jack, evoking a feeling of deceit. Jack hates being lied to. Keeping secrets around him is not a wise idea, but the situation calls for it. She has monthly appointments with Dr. Laurel, who has taken a fondness to Ellie when Sam brought her along. She is already telling all her friends about "Ronnie".

Sam smiles restrained at the memory. While she is waiting to name the child officially, Ellie has asked what to call him. Initially sated with 'baby brother', she soon came back and demanded for the unborn child to have some sort of name. She gave her time to think, but Sam could only come up with one name that would do the child justice. Uncomfortable with 'Charlie', she went for 'Aaron'. Now shortened to Ronnie, it still signifies her father. Jacob Aaron Carter.

She doesn't want to think about the damage her father has done to their relationship, but figures that it is time to bury the hatchet. While she won't see her father for maybe another year, him having retracted from Mark's life as well as a means to respect her wishes, naming her child after him somewhat (Jake being too similar to Jack) will show him that she wants him back in her life. Their lives.

She swallows at the recent memory. Boy, did Mark freak out when she told him of her pregnancy. She strokes her stomach tenderly when she relives the incident. After knuckling his fists and clenching his jaw repeatedly, he went on to congratulate her, disapprovingly asking if the father was Jack. When she nodded, he eased up, accepting it. Julie was far more thrilled, immediately handing out advice; she did remember having the twins. Sam did too, not being able to phantom that her godsons were already two years old. Aaron will follow into Ellie's footsteps, being two years junior to Julie and Mark's boys. At least he will have someone to play with at family gatherings. By then the twins will probably tire of each other. Not that she hopes so; no. Like with Lisa, Ellie and Davy, she hopes that the threesome will play joyously and forget time. Mark has been doing modifications to their treehouse, and even though it will be a while before their kids will be able to play there, Davy still bringing some of his friends there, it will serve fine when time and need come.

x STARGATE SG-1 x

With routinely practiced movements, he prepares for his next chappa-ai travel. Every time he meets new people, he has to remind himself that not all are as accustomed to traveling through the round device as regularly as him. It is a means of transport, no stranger than the tel'taks and al'keshes at their disposals.

Yet this trip excites him. As any to said destination do, but this in particular is important to him on a personal matter. Not only will he be traveling lightly and with great news, but also welcomed and catch a glimpse of the one he cares for the most.

You are a romantic whether you admit to or not, Alaric reminds him, amusement clear in his voice. But like everyone would, he has taken a fondness to Samantha as well. He does not feel the same level of love towards her as Lantash and Martouf did, nor does to claim to understand the strange relation, but he is less clueless with each visit.

I admire her. Her bravery, her choices when she could have left it as it was, Alaric argued in an attempt to be clean of his influence.

Samantha is a great being.

You have a child with her. Surely your bias is to be taken into consideration, Alaric reminds him yet again but adds a feeling of lightness. He sighs. But you are right. She is a wonderful person. Capable of great many things.

Lantash nods mentally as he gathers his things. He has spent nearly a week on this facility and it would normally drive him mad with boredom, but events have been happening that have brought new fulfillment to him. For once, Alaric understands the reason.

Lantash sees a lot of himself, as a young aspirant Tok'ra, in Alaric. His eagerness to missions of more action and danger rather than submission and long months spent looking for a weakness. Admittedly, he recognizes the young mind of someone who has not seen love and thinks of it so blithely. Even with his long memories – which he has complained sharing with one other individual – Alaric is himself. His own person with his own personality. The longer one is blended, the more blending seems to occur. Seeing as he has been with Alaric for only six of Samantha's years, they have lot to learn about each other. Alaric understands this and they both admire one another and the companionship between them is appreciated. Alaric may look like a farmer, but he has a warrior's spirit. One illy equipped within the Tok'ra, but often squeezed into rightful places.

You are not all I have to share, his host says after a long period of individual thought. Lantash searches their conversation for any relation to what he is saying. Then he remembers his quick remark about Alaric complaining about having to share his collective memory.

Elara has my memory until the time of her conception, meaning that of Martouf as well. Are you really that hurt to be held from it?

Alaric sighs mentally. No, I just.. wonder. None of these hosts have children. None of these symbiotes have offspring. Few of us have mates. You are the single person who would understand and you keep what Martouf left you a secret.

Lantash has seen the way Alaric looks at Jeia, another host, when he thinks the symbiote is not paying attention. He knows that mating would do Alaric good and that Jeia's symbiote, Pyra, is openminded. His reluctance is foolish; Martouf was actually the one acting on Lantash's feelings for Jolinar and therefore, his input was often appreciated by her. Jolinar – and the relationship between Rosha and Martouf – changed Lantash, quieted his warrior spirit. He knows that while the subject is Ellie and her inherited genetic memory, the ulterior motive is Jeia.

I understand; you wonder how she responds to the same memories? Lantash asks, finding it odd and refreshing.

Exactly. Maybe she is better at it. More like you, Alaric points out.

I can't imagine, Lantash chuckles. After all, she may be more like Samantha. She raised her, after all.

Alaric shares his smile and fatherly pride. And that you wouldn't mind.

Returning to his preparation, Lantash does another round of patrolling the secret genetic research facility on Celthria, a moon in a rarely frequented solar system. It has no stargate, but like on Netu, there are ring transport stations that allow travelers to be ringed down to the primitive planet and activate the chappa-ai. As he said previously, they have been there for a week and ache for another adventure. Lantash personally knows that the High Council have a mission in mind once he returns, but for now, he is excited to bring the news about Martouf's medical revival to Samantha.

A/N: I did as a reviewer mentioned in "Changing Priorities", reviving Martouf. Can you find the hint about the last piece connecting it to the previous story?

I admit, this is a shippy chapter and not the way insinuated. I mean, how much romance can a pregnant Sam sans Jack have? I found out I liked writing Lantash/Alaric. It's amusing. Like a bromance.