Chapter 33 - Consequences

Sam woke again to the sound of rhythmic, sobbing breaths, and she opened her eyes to see Sha're kneeling by her father. The tel'tak was still unmoving, orbiting the moon in space. But before she could make contact with Jolinar, Sam jerked upright—Sha're was giving Jacob CPR.

"Help me," called Sha're, fear in her eyes.

Sam slid across the floor, heart beating frantically.

"His heart stopped, and I cannot get it beating again," Sha're explained, voice trembling.

"How long?" Sam asked.

"A few minutes; I have not stopped," Sha're explained, wiping frustratedly at her face as Sam took over.

"No, that's still good," Sam murmured.

*Samantha, the medical kit,* came Jolinar's voice.

~You're all right?~ Sam spared a short thought as she kept her father's heart pumping blood through his body until he could do it again on his own. "Sha're, I need the supplies!"

Sha're moved swiftly to the bag, rushing over with it already open.

Jolinar took control for the moment. "Blue stripe, small clear vial, and one of the clean needles." When Sha're handed them over, she stopped the CPR for a couple seconds, quickly loaded the needle, and injected it into Jacob's neck.

~What are you doing?~ Sam asked.

*If there is still enough flow to bring it to his brain, his heart should restart,* Jolinar explained, continuing with the chest compressions and then a breath. "Wake up," she muttered below her breath, a plea disguised as an imperative. A few more compressions, though, and then Jacob jerked to life, taking in a huge gasping breath.

Jolinar put a hand to his wrist just in case. *He is well for the moment,* she said as she retreated to let Sam take over.

Jacob gulped in mouthfuls of air without moving, one after another.

"Dad, you okay?" Sam asked.

He reached up and gripped her upper arm with one hand. "Where are we?"

"On my ship; you kind of tagged along," said Sam, the one overwhelming worry of her mind tucked away at the sound of his voice. She had never been so sentimental in her life, especially not about her father, but...well, she didn't want to try to explain it.

"SG-1?" He tried to sit up, and she put her arms around his shoulders to assist. He seemed tense in her arms, not what she was expecting from a man who had just had a heart attack.

"There is no life left on the planet now," said Sha're in a dead tone, sitting where she had moved when Jacob began to breath again, at the control console.

"They're back on Earth, then," said Sam, without surprise but noticing that the final pronouncement seemed to hit her like a knell. "I'm sorry; you're stuck here for now."

Sha're turned back to the console quickly, letting only the back of her head show.

As Jacob took some deep, slow breaths, Jolinar made a quiet comment. *If he has a relapse, this is not the place to take care of it.*

"I'll be right back," Sam said aloud, looking Jacob in the eye with concern. "I need to get us on course for home." Giving his shoulder a short rub almost unconsciously as she rose, she crossed the short space to the console across from Sha're. It was nearly second thought now to punch in the proper course and get them into hyperspace, despite the fact that she had flown in Goa'uld ships only twice.

There was the usual slight jerk as they entered hyperspace, and Sam saw her father tense momentarily as she returned to his side, sitting down cross-legged. Of course, he had never been up in a ship, probably had never been off planet before today. And then again, she couldn't know for sure.

"Dad, you got security clearance," she commented, pathetically, not really knowing what to say.

He nodded, warily, a strange look on his face.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Is there a point to the pretense?" he asked. "Jolinar, right?"

"No, this is Sam," she answered, putting out her hand to his arm and glad he didn't visibly flinch. "I—I don't know what they told you, but I promise, I can prove to you that it isn't true."

"That's going to take an awful lot of work, kid" Jacob answered, looking her straight in the eye.

Sam sat, her hand still resting on the bend in his elbow, staring into his face. "They really don't trust me anymore, do they."

"Sam, I don't know about them, but I trust you to do what you think is right," Jacob said, then pressed on. "But with that thing in your head, how can you know for sure that there's no bias?"

"Dad, I haven't done anything that could be considered wrong on anyone's scale," Sam said. "Isn't that enough?"

"You didn't lead the Goa'uld to Abydos?"

"What?" Sam started in surprise. "Of course not, that was an accident. They really thought—they saw me and then could—how could they?"

"You've got a Goa'uld in your head," Jacob said with a weak shrug.

*Samantha, please end this before I get frustrated even further,* Jolinar broke in, tone extremely tense.

"Dad, listen, the first thing you need to know is that Jolinar isn't a Goa'uld," said Sam. "I know what it may seem like from your side, but believe me, there's no doubt in my mind after all we've been through together."

Jacob looked at her closely, eyes piercing in a way she had somehow forgotten. "Really."

"Really," Sam answered, meeting his gaze with her sincerest look. Inside, though, she felt strange, like laughter was going to bubble out of her at any second. Crazy laughter. She had her dad here, alive and caring about her, but on the verge of death. She had seen her old friends again, but they had treated her like the enemy. Her heart was cracking, and she was afraid that if she dropped focus just for a second, it would break.

Jacob closed his eyes, hand to his heart and grimace on his face, breaths coming slowly.

"Dad?" Sam asked, putting out her hand.

He shook his head, breathing out. "I'm not doing so well."

*His oxygen supplement?* Jolinar asked.

"You left your oxygen on the planet," Sam said, suddenly remembering.

Jacob shook his head. "Just for show," he said in a near whisper.

Sam didn't say anything, understanding what that remark meant, and yet—

*I am sorry that my fears were so realized,* Jolinar said quietly.

Sam didn't have the words.

Jolinar, however, did, and she took control. "General Carter," she said, and Sam watched as her dad jerked and opened his eyes. "I have no way of knowing what you expected to happen at this meeting, but I will not apologize now for demanding that you explain your behavior. Believe me, your daughter conveyed a much more respectable view of your world's behavior."

~Careful, he's not well,~ Sam put in.

"You are Jolinar, then," said Jacob, giving her a sharp eye.

"And as far as you should have been concerned, I was a delegate of a possible ally," said Jolinar, sitting straighter than Sam had. "Enemy at worst, but still a figure of diplomatic immunity."

"You were a hostage-taker," began Jacob, withdrawing his arm from where her hand absently still rested on it. "And we couldn't know if there had been brainwashing involved; we had to think of those options first."

"And if your daughter had been telling the truth?" continued Jolinar, not breaking her eye contact.

"Given the evidence, that didn't seem likely," Jacob answered honestly, holding the gaze.

Sam felt a pang, and didn't bother suppressing it.

"Then believe me, you have a much more difficult task ahead of you than I in re-earning trust," finished Jolinar in a hard tone.

~Thanks, Jolinar, but I think I can handle it from here,~ Sam broke in. "Hey," she said aloud.

"Sam?" Jacob asked, looking confused. "Was she—did she berate me?"

Sam smiled painfully. "I think so, Dad. We're…good friends now."

Jacob dipped his head, taking a moment. Then he looked up. "You're serious."

She laughed bitterly. "Yes, yes I am." When he didn't answer, she continued, a little desperate. "Here, let's get you some support." She moved him up to the divider so he could lean back against the wall, and so she could sit next to him.

There was a moment of silence, and Sam noticed stiffness in his body, his face resolutely looking straight ahead.

"Dad, talk to me," she urged quietly.

"Sam, you need to snap out of this," he said, turning to her with a worry-ravaged face. "You don't even realize what you're doing anymore. Look at yourself!"

"Don't say that," she answered. "You can't understand yet."

"There is no yet for me," he answered firmly, harshly. "And Sam, I'm not going without a fight. I just don't know if you can understand that."

Sam looked up to his eyes. "I think I do," she said, and it came out more brokenly than she had planned.

His face was so close that she could see every scar of time and illness, eyes meeting hers and the harshness fading from them as he held her gaze. Then, in a tone that held little emotion: "If it's any comfort, I don't think you're a ruse of Jolinar's."

"But what, I'm not me?" she asked, recalling Daniel's words all too clearly.

"I can't know that yet." There was a hesitation in his eyes, and then he glanced away, lowering his head.

The lump in Sam's throat was too big for her to speak, so she just reached out for his hand to squeeze it. He didn't jerk away.

"But," he added, breaking the silence. "You aren't giving me many options." He looked back at her. "If Jolinar's plan was to fool you into getting her into the SGC, she failed miserably. No point in continuing now."

The words cut into Sam as a confirmation of one of her fears.

"But you're still here; that means something, I just don't know what." Jacob winced and sighed, leaning his head against the wall.

And Sam just looked at him. Her heart was deeply wounded by the betrayal of today, but for some reason she couldn't include him in it; instead, her grief at what was to come mingled with the comfort she received just from his presence and from his acknowledgment of her existence apart from Jolinar. It was something she hadn't received enough lately.

In a move she didn't think about before doing, she leaned her head to rest on his shoulder with a weary sigh. A part of her heart started to heal as she heard him exhale, and it was a welcome surprise when she felt his soft kiss to her hair before he leaned his head on hers so that she rested in the crook of his neck. Whatever he thought, she was still his Sam. And so they sat, silent, hurt, weary, a distance between them and the still form of Sha're seated at the console.

ooooooo

Daniel's grief and frustration had built up on the way to the briefing room, running over the irreversible facts that had happened all in a couple minutes. But the only thing his mind would tell him at first was: they're gone forever. Whoever they really were, you'll never know for sure now.

Just like after Abydos, he sat in silence at the table and Jack related what had happened. Hammond didn't burst forth in rage this time, just sat, the stricken look on his face eating into Daniel's heart. He had lost one of his best friends, just as Daniel had lost both a friend and a wife.

"They ringed up to a ship of some kind," Jack finished. "And we retreated back to the gate, not sure if they were going to fire or not."

And at that, Daniel felt his frustration swell into something more like anger. For a second, he didn't even know why.

"So Jacob's in the hands of the enemy, and we have no idea where they are," said Hammond, tone free of all life.

"They weren't the enemy," said Daniel, not looking at any of them.

"Doctor Jackson?" Hammond asked.

"Were you even watching?" Daniel asked, this time looking straight at Jack. "Were you paying attention at all?"


"Daniel," Jack said in a slight growl.

But Daniel's emotions had got the best of him, and he didn't even care this time. "If that had been Goa'ulds we saw, they would have ringed down Jaffa, not vanished with a look of horror. Fear and betrayal—those weren't Goa'uld emotions, Jack, and you know it."

"You think that, do you?" pushed Jack, his stance aggressive as he looked towards Daniel.

"Yes, I do," said Daniel fiercely. "Because I wasn't completely set on that it was a ruse from the start. I was ready to let the evidence speak for itself."

"The evidence that Jolinar was up to no good?" Jack countered.

"It was conflicting at best!" Daniel pushed back. "Jack, if nothing else, I saw Sha're there. Maybe it was Jolinar that pushed her into the rings, but it was Sha're's panic I saw. And—and—" His hand was left hanging in the air as he lost his words.

"Gentlemen, that's enough," said Hammond.

"Sir, Jackson's right about one thing," said Dixon, brow creased. "They acted like they were panicked, not like their grand plan had just not worked."

"Because they never had one," Daniel couldn't resist saying. The grief-turned-anger was burning through him, taking his restraints as it went.

"We couldn't know that!" said Jack, protesting strongly. "Don't you hear what you're saying? We had to operate under an assumption. What if she had stabbed the general instead of taking him with the rings?"

"It's not about what could have happened, Jack," said Daniel. "That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is we've lost our last chance."

"You don't know that," answered Jack, but Daniel looked up at him and saw the lack of conviction in his eyes.

"Believe me, Doctor Jackson, no one regrets that more than I do," said General Hammond quietly.

Jack remained silent, stewing away at some emotion that Daniel couldn't read.

"Take some rest, gentlemen; we all need it before we do anything else," finished Hammond with a sigh. He rose with a long sigh.

"Daniel, no one meant for it to go down like this," said Jack quietly, an attempt at mollification.

"No, you meant to capture them and bring them back as prisoners of war," answered Daniel, keeping his tone just as low. "And if they clammed up, shocked by the—the betrayal, you would have read it as guilt and not heard another word. That's what nearly happened this time, the only change is that we know it."

"You agreed to this, remember?" Jack continued, a hint of frustration in his weary tone. "Don't act like you knew it all along; we all screwed up."

"Well at least we recognize that now," shot back Daniel. And then there was nothing. He sighed, overwhelmed, and muttered as he rose to leave, "Hammond's right."

Shoulders hunched as he tried to contain all his emotions, Daniel walked to the elevator, intending to wear out his emotions alone. It was empty, and he was relieved. He didn't want to see anyone right now.

"Jackson! Jackson!" Dixon's clipped tones came after him, and Daniel turned to see him hurrying down the hall.

Daniel could have closed the door, but he didn't, and Dixon made it in the elevator before it closed on its own.

"Jackson, what the hell are you trying to do," said Dixon in a low tone, arms crossed.

Daniel looked up, surprised.

"Are you going to act like you don't know what you're on about?" Dixon continued, standing unnecessarily close to Daniel's personal space and looking down at him. "That since you're a civilian, you can blame the military as loud as you want? Beat us up because you never had to make the choice?"

"Well that's an oversimplification," snorted Daniel, not backing into the ample space in the elevator as it began to move.

"I'm not kidding, Jackson," said Dixon. "That was questionable as a professional, but why the hell did you make it personal like that?"

That, Daniel could answer. "Because he doesn't seem to realize exactly what he did. Before Quetesh attacked Abydos, we were just going to be cautious. It was his—his bitterness and pessimism that got everyone seeing the worst of the situation."

"And instead of asking the Colonel if he regretted it, you attacked him in front of superiors and inferiors, and forced him to defend himself," said Dixon shortly. "God, Jackson, how'd that tactic come from a brain like yours?"

Daniel stepped back, swallowing his shock. Had he let things go too far? That far?

"I didn't come after you just to beat you over the head," Dixon admitted. "Truth is—I think I get it. Your wife. You've lost her and it wasn't your fault, so it had to be somebody's 'cause you can't accept that it was an accident."

Daniel felt his frustration flare again, but he bit it down.

"Well don't do it," said Dixon. "Just don't."

"I can't—I may never even get to say goodbye," said Daniel, hand gripping the elevator railing. It had stopped, and the elevator doors had opened and closed again without movement from either of the two men.

"And it isn't his fault," said Dixon. "I don't care what evidence you think you have, it isn't enough." He leaned back, sighing, absently scratching the side of his head. "It's a screwed up business, Jackson."

Daniel didn't say anything, didn't look up him.

Dixon hmmed, pushed the button, and walked out, heading for the staircase.

The elevator was too bright, too empty, and Daniel pushed the button just as the doors were closing. His mind wasn't letting the anger stay, but nothing was there to take its place and soon he started to feel an empty despair again as he walked. His lab was dark and dusty, the only comfort he could take, and he quietly shut the door and didn't turn on the light. Walking over to the far shelf, he fumbled around until he found the box of matches he kept, and lit the incense candle. Then he sunk into his chair and leaned his head on the table, burying it in his arms.

This was worse, this was so much worse than when he had first lost Sha're. Because all he could remember was that they had defeated Ra once—how could Apophis be worse? Well, now he knew. And it wasn't that Apophis was so much worse, it was that he was just the tip of the iceberg. Daniel had absolutely no idea where Sha're could be now, and he was only certain about one thing; she thought he didn't trust her. And if Sam had been honest, this Sam who blocked Sha're with her own body when it came to a fight, Sha're would never return to him.

There was a soft rap at the door, and Daniel looked up. He weighed his options, and then decided that even Jack probably couldn't get a reaction out of him now. "Come in."

Light flooded through the door, making Daniel blink before he recognized Teal'c.

"Are you well, DanielJackson?"

A single spasm of laughter went through Daniel, giving him an aching pain. "No, Teal'c," he said, putting up a hand to wipe a random wetness from his eye. Sighing, he continued. "Are you here to point out how idiotic I was?"

"I do not believe you need my help for that," said Teal'c quietly.

Daniel groaned. "No, you're right about that."

"Perhaps tonight you should not return to your home," Teal'c said, standing as he usually did with hands loosely clasped behind his back.

Daniel's mind flashed to his home, to the bed that was always half-empty as a reminder of what he was working towards. "Mm," he acknowledged. Sitting up, he gestured to Teal'c. "You can turn on the light."

"There is no need," said Teal'c. "Your heart is troubled, DanielJackson, as is mine. As I cannot leave this base, perhaps you would wish to join me in kel'no'reem."

Daniel looked up. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm not sure I can calm my mind to meditate just yet."

"Calm is not needed in the beginning; emptiness will do." Teal'c had not moved, and his tone had not changed, but Daniel felt urging from him. "Is it not said on your world, let not the sun go down on your anger?"

"I'm not angry anymore," Daniel murmured, as he thought over what Teal'c said. Then he heard what he just said, and looked up. Teal'c had caught it too; not all anger was hot. "It can't hurt, right?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c, a barely visible relaxation coming over his features. "As soon as you are ready, then." And with a bow, he left Daniel's room, leaving the door cracked open behind him.

All Daniel's emotion seemed to have settled into a lump in his stomach, a heavy weight as he stood. He rubbed a hand through his hair, stretching a little, not sure why exactly he was going to join Teal'c. The Jaffa had been an unusual ally and friend, but they hadn't been the closest. Dixon had had a reason to sympathize with Daniel and approach him, but why would Teal'c offer and why would Daniel accept such a thing as this? But Daniel then shook his head, realizing just how dull his mind had gone. Teal'c was the one who had taken Sha're from him in the first place, and even if Daniel had forgotten Teal'c had not. If Daniel could be so bitter to Jack for a suggestion alone... Teal'c was asking for a confirmation of the implicit forgiveness Daniel had given him from the beginning. And Daniel had chosen to confirm it.

The lump began rising towards Daniel's throat as he blew out his candle, breathing in the last of its soothing Abydonian scent before closing the door on his dark office and walking into the bright hall. He had forgotten one very important thing when he lashed out at the briefing; this was his team. Jack, Teal'c, Dixon, even Mckay stuck in the infirmary. He didn't really deserve them, but he needed to keep them. For their sake and for his.

And besides, meditation could hardly make the situation worse. Daniel would have thought nothing could do that, but he didn't want to offer the universe a challenge.

—

Author's Notes: Sha're learned CPR from Daniel, since that would be a useful skill and easy to learn. Also, Daniel's reactions here are based on how he acts in episodes like "Forever in a Day" and "Menace". He's generally calm and compassionate, but canon shows that he can get bitter and angry.