A/N: I just want to warn people. I never promised for this story to have a happy ending, no, but this story needed to happen for me to continue the series. I am winging it with Sam's emotions, so if they feel out of character for her, or for mothers with similar situations, deal with it. I'm doing my best and I think it would be natural for Sam to alienate those closest to her in an attempt to be brave and strong, to break their new image of her.
Thanks for the amazing reviews and people who like this story. I am already writing the next one which will be different but less sad than this one.
Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own an inch of the Stargate franchise.
Epilogue of CHANGING CIRCUMSTANCES
The house feels so empty when she returns. Unlocking the door is a surrealistic experience. The echo of the wooden door slammed gently open travels through the house. When she bought the house on Pine Lake Drive all those years ago, she thought of her wondrous future with her unborn child. Now her womb is empty, her child abducted and she is left with two weeks of getting her things in order before hearing Landry's say on her suggestion. Until Ellie's abduction she couldn't have dared to challenge Landry on his authority or dare to suggest establishing a team for her to lead. She has rarely even lead a team while being on SG-1. Now the thought of leading someone through the galaxy seems doable.
They have all tried – Teal'c, Daniel, Janet, Vala, now Landry and Jack. She won't budge, but she will find her daughter, even if she has to meet-and-greet every planet in the known universe.
She steps quietly through the house she has come to know so well, her footsteps calm and tracing a familiar route. Air Force personnel has cleaned up the living room and kitchen, a courtesy from General Landry to prevent local police from gaining national secured intel.
Exhaling deeply, she travels her eyes across the neatly reorganized rooms that now seem so strange and foreign. Like she has been living somebody else's life for the past eight years. Like the last three weeks have been a nightmare specially customized for her. Even thinking this makes her heart beat faster, hyperventilating her systems before she calms herself down. It hurts to caress the doorknob to Ellie's room once she has dragged her feet upstairs. She lets out a breath before pushing it down.
She remembers the days of redoing this room, changing its use as nursery to actual bedroom for a young girl. The adult conversations with her daughter, mildly arguing about the color of the paint of the walls, the size of the desk she pleaded for, the fluffy army-green rug, the ridiculously cute ash shelves where Ellie kept her most beloved books, the poster of wild horses she'd bought on a flea-market without Sam's consent but had blackmailed Jack into putting up, and the paint-stained blinds for the southern-side windows. All what makes Ellie is in this very room. Her gaze wanders the book titles even though she has to stand on her toes to make them out on the shelf above Ellie's wallside draw-compartments bed. The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis is worn and Sam knows that she has read it more than once, entranced by its many ideas of genesises. Accompanied by the typical Little House book (Sam can't remember which one), and several less famous ones, they are all alphabetically organized.
Sam spins around slowly, taking in the echo of her daughter. This is where Jaffa took Ellie while she was being beaten in the very living room she just passed. Her bed is still unmade, the sheets and comforter ruffled, half-way unto the floor. Afternoon sunlight shines dimly through the windows, landing on the desk where Ellie's newest piece of Tintin lies abandoned. Dust has gathered on every horizontal piece of furniture, but the atmosphere still harbors remnants of Ellie.
It has been nearly three weeks without any leads. Three years of recovery, three weeks of ignoring what other people wanted her to. Three weeks of realizing that Ellie is gone. If she ever comes back .. – no, Sam can't let herself think like that. Ellie will come back because Sam will make it happen. Even if she has to execute every living Goa'uld to do that.
She changes clothes into something from her wardrobe. The silence of the house is deafening when accustomed to a child. It serves as an incentive. But to get Ellie back, things will have to change. She will have to quit being a mom – and it hurts so much to admit that – and begin being a soldier; a warrior; someone who can go through the Stargate and avenge the loss. Someone who will get Ellie back and not hesitate to do so.
She will have to go eight years back and get meaner.
And she can't do that from California.
With two weeks and a truckload of heartache, grief and determination, Sam begins to assemble moving boxes. She closes the door to Ellie's room, reluctant to begin that yet. She has two weeks and eight years of memories, but starting out with her missing daughter's room will be like tearing off endless band-aids. But it sticks to her mind, among the what-ifs, and is there whenever doubt resurfaces. Is she doing the right thing? What if Ellie never comes back, has she then ruined her life, her options, her possibilities, all for nothing? What if Ellie comes back, what will Sam tell her? That their house has been sold, their home belonging to someone else?
Her mind preoccupied, her fingers pack more than eight years of life into boxes, only keeping the essentials and necessities. She starts with the less frequented rooms, emptying drawers and coming up with things that have been missing for years. She won't lie and pretend that some of the things – like Ellie's stuffed bunny – don't make her sob in misery. But slowly, with breaks for eating food and sleeping, she gets there.
By day three, the phone rings. It takes her a few moment to realize that it's actually calling, having turned her cell phone on vibrator days ago, not counting in the phone in the living room, now relocated to the kitchen counter. Unlike many she doesn't turn on the radio to make the packing more cheerful. She doesn't need cheerful, it'll not make her forget. So she storms down the stirs, grabbing the phone that fateful moment before whoever is ringing hangs up.
"Carter." Old habits die hard and they seem to have resurfaced since Elli– since her recovery.
"This is Jenny Carlson. Ellie's riding instructor?" the voice adds hesitantly. Sam searches her mind for a face to go with the name and vaguely remembers the redhead.
"Yeah, hi." Why would Jenny call her? Ellie hasn't been to the lessons for weeks. Sam can't even remember the cover story as the tears well up in her eyes. Her voice gets throaty, but she doubts Jenny will notice much less mind.
"Have I caught you at a bad time? I can always call back," Jenny says, sounding apologetic. Sam puts her hand on the receiver, sighs and removes her hand, trying to steady her voice.
"No, no, it's fine."
"Well," the rider starts, "I am calling to know if I gotta write Ellie up for extra lessons. We spoke about this some weeks ago?"
"We did," Sam confirms, remembering. But it's so different now.
"I don't like pushing, but if you've decided I need to know so I can hold Smokey for her on that group.."
She swallows. "It won't be necessary. Actually, I've been very busy. I just came back from the hospital, so it completely slipped my mind to call you, Jenny."
A chuckle is heard on the other end. "It's okay. I hope it was nothing serious."
Sam knits her brows in confusion, then remembers she just said she'd been hospitalized. Leaning against the kitchen counter with a dishtowel in one hand, she bites her lip. "No, but I'm afraid I'll have to cancel all of Ellie's riding lessons."
"Oh, no." It is the sound of personal disappointment and not out of a client leaving.
"Yeah," Sam confirms, trying to be casual and suppress the tears that threaten to fall. She must stick to the cover stories. Plural, because of the need-to-know basis. "We-we're moving this summer, sadly, so she won't be able to return to her lessons. I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm too, but that's life, right?" Jenny's voice rises a pitch. "Will she be able to come and say goodbye to her friends? To Smokey and Whiskey?"
"No, I'm afraid. I'll transfer the money, of course, but no, that's not in our plans."
Jenny sighs on the other end, but accepts it. "I hope you'll be happy in your new house."
"Me as well," Sam fakes and is reduced to silent tears. "Goodbye."
"Bye."
They hang up, and Sam slowly slides down the kitchen cabinets, eyeing the piece of fabric she has been fumbling with the whole conversation. A key ring with a canvas duckling. It's Ellie's. And damn if it doesn't make her cry.
x STARGATE SG-1 x
A week later she has packed most of the boxes. The realtor stops by, going through the rooms and squealing and making arm gestures when she steps into a particularly extraordinary! room. It is to be sold furnished, because Sam plans to move into one of the VIP rooms on-base or get an apartment in Colorado Springs. She will take nobody up on the offers she has received. But that very afternoon after reliving the enthusiasm of the female realtor – often flashing back to the skeptical male realtor experience nine years ago when Mark accompanied her or family moments with Ellie and Jack – she is equally surprised and expectant to see Andy Kellogg.
She remembers meeting the shy and grand-sized man. Isolated and heavily pregnant, she had sought to be alone, but had embraced the company once she had given birth to her daughter and realized the amount of work that needed to be done with the house. Andy, single and kind-hearted, had helped her without bringing flirt to the friendship. He cooed over baby Ellie, he adored painting the nursery with her, even ordering her to bolt if she exhausted herself. Simple and lovable – that is Andy.
She sniffles and wipes her wet face with the back of her hand. How did she come to feel this horrible? She is sitting in the November weather, dressed in old wool coat from pre-pregnancy and a scarf. It is windy and she is sitting on the bare planks of the terrace overlooking the untended garden. The swing on the swing-set creaks in the wind, moving ghostly by itself; the same element blows her newly cut hair into a blizzard of messy strands, and Sam herself finds the wintery, autumnal weather a perfect echo of her emotional state, even if it is uncommon for California.
"Hi Sam," sounds his rough voice. She barely seems surprised and glances shortly at him before returning her gaze unto the lawn. Amazing how weather can change so fast.
He joins her side silently, sitting there for an unprecedented time, watching the leafs curl over and follow the wind. She doesn't know what to say so she keeps quiet. She should have told him about her plans and not left him and his fiancee, Alyson, to find out on their own. She knows him well enough to know that he wants her to speak, to explain like any good friend would, but due to changed circumstances, she can't contain herself enough to make up a decent explanation. The cover story is that Ellie was abducted, but that they are telling everybody else they're moving. "They" being her and Ellie and Jack, because everybody just assumed that they were living together. The truth is so icily harsh to bear, so she tries to keep it to herself a little longer, sparing him.
She catches a glimpse of his mittens; not that he is wearing them, no, but he has brought them, just-in-case. Because he is that kind of man. Even for a six-foot-seven accountant with nut-brown eyes, he is strikingly honest and possesses great family values. Sam can only hope that he will be happy with Alyson and that they'll get as many kids as they can handle. Physically strong, Andy is also emotionally tied to Ellie in a way that took Jack almost a year. He'll always be Uncle Andy and because he never made a move on her, he will be that to Sam, too. To remove him from Ellie's life – and the other way around – is unfair, bordering on cruel. But she cannot tell him the truth, mostly because he hasn't got clearance and wouldn't understand anyway. Most days she thinks herself insane, too.
Bree the beagle trots around on the lawn before their eyes, wagging her tail carefully, not disturbing them. With her spotted coat, she is as handsome as her owner.
"You are really selling it, huh?" It isn't meant to be judgmental or scornful, but it's confused and casual.
"Yeah," she responds hoarsely, her eyes falling on the spot where Ellie, Bree and Michelle held a bathing spa day. Soap was everywhere, joined by water and a small pool. She nearly chuckles, but all that surfaces is a ghostly smile.
"Has it anything to do with Jack?" Slowly, prying like a concerned friend. God it hurts to be the one to tell him.
She shakes her head, her expression detached. "No. Not directly."
"He done anything stupid?"
"No. But so much went wrong, Andy," she declares and looks into his eyes for the first time since he appeared. He is the one person she cannot bear to play tough towards. He is the one person to see her break down. "They took her."
"Ellie? Who took her?"
Tearing up, she explains it in lay man's terms. "They came in the night. Beat me, grabbed Ellie. I thought it was a stray cat, but … God, Andy, you should've seen her. She was terrified. The last time I caught a glimpse of my daughter, she was terrified."
He pulls her into a hug and she lets him hold her while she sobs. She sobs for what happened; she sobs for the reason to lie; she sobs for letting go; she sobs because that is all she seems to find doable.
"Sam..," he sighs, hugging her. She is clearly not making any sense, but he chooses to trust her. "When was this?"
She straightens her back and sniffles once again. Her eyes are red with tears. "Three weeks ago. They're doing their best to find her, and –... I have to do this, Andy," she says hoarsely. "I can't just sit down and pretend everything's okay. You know me. You know Ellie."
Andy looks at her, that penetrating friendly gaze that is a comfort in itself, and speaks. "I know you will find her, Sam. And I know that Jack will do everything in his power to get your girl back."
Wounded, hurtful, devastated. Words Sam would have used to describe herself, but adjectives that she can see in Andy's orbs. He tries to be the good guy, tries to comfort her, when he is the single person she lets do that. Because he is civilian and the only simple thing in her life. Because moving will mean severing her ties with Andy Kellogg, a man she has grown to care for because of Ellie. Because of his tenderness.
"I'm not with Jack anymore."
His eyes ask 'why', but she appreciates his lack of questions. She knows he is just glad that she is speaking, because she'd be in his place. In five days she will now if she is allowed back to the Stargate Program, allowed to forget her life in the search for her daughter. Landry isn't stupid enough to pretend otherwise.
But for the moment, it feels less sad to have someone to lend a shoulder. So they sit their, mismatched partners, mourning times passed and circumstances they cannot change.
x STARGATE SG-1 x
Keeping in contact with the realtor via e-mail and having her stuff shipped across states, it is a well-prepared Samantha Carter who clocks in at Stargate Command at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs, Denver, five days later. Her moving boxes packed, her bravado face on and tears no longer available, she stoically faces General Hank Landry who studies her carefully before speaking.
"This has been thoroughly discussed on higher levels, Major. Trust me, the decision is not an unanimous vote, but the IOA has agreed to reposition you into the Program. As for the blunt suggestion of an additional SG team.."
He looks at her sternly, waiting at her to break and confess, or to fall on her knees and beg, but she keeps posture even though she is unraveling on the inside. She understands the need for professionalism and frankly she'll be satisfied with a spot on an active off-world SG team. She has learnt to tame her spirit, to quieten it and let it fuel an incentive. As much as she hates to admit it, the two weeks have done her well. But it has also slowed her leads down immensely.
"An SG-26 team will be introduced, based primarily on your former actions while on SG-1. Furthermore will you be positioned as a consultant on SG-1, should they need your vast experience and knowledge, but the decision to act on this opportunity rests solely on Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchel. I believe you've met?"
"Yes, sir," she responds, dimming a smile, but nodding gratefully.
"I believe that's all. The members of your team is in this file. And I do not need to remind you of the collective mission. I doubt the decision myself to let you back into the field so close to... personal grief. That being said, welcome back into the fold, Major."
Less than two days later, she stands in BDUs, her eyes not meeting Jack's as she and her new team readies for a mission in front of the established wormhole of the Earth-based Stargate. She bites her lips and looks to each side, her feelings mirroring the ones of Jack O'Neill when he rejoined the Air Force on the assignment to Abydos all those years ago.
x STARGATE SG-1 x SEIZE THE ORBIT x
Thousands of lightyears away, a child is whimpering in a cell aboard a ha'tak mothership. She does not whimper because of her separation from her mother – that is what the silent tears are for; no, she whimpers because she knows what is to come, thanks to memories that are no hers. Memories that are exactly why she is here. But unlike her father, she does not have the courage to face the Jaffa's torture stick without physical pain.
Therefore, Elara whimpers and curls up, knowing fully well what is to come when the Jaffa of Erebus enter the door to the cell. It is that, and not the physical pain on her wrists from the shackles, that scare her senseless.
A/N: About this story: I contemplated very much about this. I mean, it would have been too easy to have Sam rejoin the Stargate program and Air Force and would have made a boring story. Interesting, but common. A revenge thing. And we've seen Teal'c do that so many times.
To add a layer of the problem, and for reasons that will resurface in the next stories, I decided to get Sam pregnant. Another roll of tension between Jack and Sam that the relationship may not survive. I mean, why wouldn't Sam be happy for another child? Jack will retire in a few years, life is good, she has the common doubts, but generally wishes to keep the baby, even informing an excited Ellie of her little brother. However, I love the tragic, so (which was the initial idea to this story), I had Ellie kidnapped. Again, for reasons I will not mention, and to shape a darker, more mature Sam, I took her beloved daughter away, ripping her life apart. I figured, meh, they've had four years of relative happiness (which you haven't seen, so my stories may seem filled with surrealistic drama). And, uh – I like beating Sam. Trust me, I felt bad beating up a pregnant woman, but it was to rule out the possibility of purposefully miscarrying. I mean, even an avenging Sam wouldn't induce a miscarriage, she's not that far gone. I can't write that, seeing as I cannot even come near the emotional toll that would take. So, I created a miscarriage by having her beaten up and left for others to find. By not acting on it, she, by method of ignoring, lets her small child die. There is a difference.
Once again, a fatal blow has hit the Jack/Sam dynamic. By not telling him about Aaron's death and his existence, she may have hidden the guilt and grief, but now she ignores his attempts to quieten her spirit. She will find her daughter.
I had Lantash visit. That was a tear-inducing scene. It was brief, but I liked it. As stated, it was based on a certain someone's suggestion. Sadly I decided not to take the idea to its full potential. It didn't flow with my ideas of the next couple of stories. I won't shut down the idea of bringing him back, but you're going to live without him for now.
-NEXT UP: the next installment will be called Changing Tides and will be a cross-over with Stargate: Atlantis.