Stargate Command
Colorado Springs, CO
November 17, 1999

General Hammond looked at her with sympathy in his eyes and sighed. "I cannot begin to imagine what that must have been like, Captain."

Sam shrugged, feeling strangely unaffected by the retelling of what had happened on that fateful day on P3X-425. So much had happened since Grieves had betrayed her. Perhaps too much for her to relive the maelstrom of feelings it had caused. "I'm just glad the truth came out, Sir."

"Colonel O'Neill captured all the Rogue NID operatives involved with the off-world base and the data he brought back ensured the ones stationed Earth-side could be tracked down as well. They all face charges of high treason and the death penalty is on the table," the General said. "Unfortunately, Lieutenant Colonel Grieves' death means-"

"It's a relief to know he won't be able to hurt or betray anyone else," she said, interrupting him. "To be honest, Sir, I was worried about the lack of evidence to get him convicted."

"The actions of Lieutenant Colonel Grieves forced Colonel O'Neill's hand, or we would have had a lot more victims. Perhaps including Colonel O'Neill and then we never would have gotten the data on their operation. The CCTV confirmed Colonel O'Neill acted in self-defense and there won't be any charges filed against him."

She nodded, relieved. "That's what Major Davis also told me, Sir."

The General smiled, "I just want to reiterate that you and your daughter are safe now, Captain. You have nothing to fear from the NID or any other organization. Once the quarantine has been lifted, you're free to go."

"Yes, Sir."

"However, in the meantime, I would like to continue your debriefing."

Sam had known a debriefing would be necessary and was surprised it had taken so long for the General to demand one. Probably because Doctor Fraiser had to approve it, based on the medical exams. Sam appreciated the privacy of the debriefing, though. "Of course, Sir."

There was a moment of silence as Hammond wrung his hands, searching for the right words. "The CMO informed me about your medical condition and the mistreatment you underwent during your captivity. Our Jaffa friends have already detailed some of the techniques used for interrogative purposes, but I need to ask you about it as well, Captain."

"It, um, started out very basic. I don't think the Jaffa were allowed to do any serious harm before Apophis had a chance to see me. Once the harvest Master Bra'tac was in charge of was done, they transferred me to a transport vessel and that brought us to the planet where Apophis and Klorel's motherships were being built."

"The Goa'uld interrogated you?"

"No," she shook her head, nails digging into the palms of her hands at the memory, "Kah'l, Apophis' First Prime, was put in charge of the interrogations. He wanted to know about the iris, how to circumvent it and what Earth's other defenses were like."

"Just as we expected," the General said softly. "When SG-1 couldn't find you on P3X-425 and only returned with the med kit, we called in Doctor Langford to overwrite some of the programming of the dialing computer. Just in case."

"She told me."

"This Kah'l…"

Sam blew out a breath at his prompting, quelling the nauseating feeling in her stomach. "He was… impatient. Liked any excuse to use his hands and feet, preferably until he could hear the breaking of bones."

Hammond gave her a moment to collect herself, before asking her about what happened after.

"Apparently, Apophis wasn't pleased with Kah'l's progress, so he brought in someone else. A Goa'uld called Zipacna, he was one of Apophis' underlords."

"I'm aware of who he is. SG-1 has met him."

"Oh." She looked down, biting the inside of her cheek, as she searched for words to express what that bastard had put her through. "His questions… uh, they were pretty much the same. He wanted to know about Earth and when I didn't give him the answers he wanted, he got mad." Her throat was suddenly turning dry and she reached for the bottled water one of the orderlies had brought her. After taking a few gulps, she tried again. "Zipacna was… more creative. He liked to use tools."

The General waited for her to look up before he spoke, "You withstood severe torture and in doing so, you protected Earth from attack, Captain."

Sam barked out a humorless laugh and shook her head at him. The pain had been unimaginable and she remembered just lying in her cell or hanging in the torture chamber, her body broken and mind too far gone. "I was beyond caring at that point, Sir. Zipacna stopped asking questions about halfway in, he simply enjoyed inflicting pain."

"Captain-"

"At some point," she continued, wanting to keep going, "Apophis had enough of waiting and I was brought before him and Klorel. They tried to torture me into revealing what they wanted to know by using their hand devices… before Klorel decided to make me a host instead."

"To gain the knowledge about Earth," Hammond asked.

Sam fought against the feelings those memories brought up and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I was put in a sarcophagus to heal and then there was an implantation ceremony… once the Goa'uld, Herit, took over there were more sarcophagus sessions. Apparently, they weaken the human host and thereby make it easier for the Goa'uld to keep control."

"But you somehow managed to keep the Goa'uld from attacking Earth."

"I…" She faltered, trying to decide what would be the best course of action. Telling the truth wasn't really an option, not yet, anyway. "I fought Herit. She was young, too young, according to Apophis for implantation, but Klorel insisted. I think that might have made it easier for me."

The General's eyes narrowed, "You regained control?"

"Not entirely, but I managed to influence her."

"Like Kendra on Cimmeria?"

Sam jumped at the suggestion. "Yes, just like she did with her Goa'uld. But SG-1 did most of the work when they boarded the mothership. I managed to control the majority of intel Herit gathered from my mind and used it to my advantage."

"You were also the one who delayed Apophis' orders to kill SG-1," Hammond said. "According to Master Bra'tac."

"He played a large part in that, too."

"I see."

She took another sip of water before continuing, "Once it looked like SG-1 would prevent the attack, I convinced Herit it would be better to leave the ship and join Amaunet. She was in hiding because of her pregnancy and if there would be retaliation from Earth, then Amaunet would have to be moved elsewhere. At least, that's what I told Herit."

"And that is how you escaped the Goa'uld?"

Sam nodded and explained how Bra'tac had followed her, lying about him accompanying her in the role of First Prime of Klorel – and by extension, Herit's – rather than pledging his allegiance to Sam. But she couldn't tell the General the truth without revealing more about herself and Ife, and she simply wasn't able to trust them yet. "Then, I convinced Herit to go to Cimmeria. She was young and eager to prove herself, so it wasn't difficult to plant the idea of something very valuable being hidden on the planet."

"How did you know how to repair Thor's Hammer?"

"I didn't. From SG-1's mission reports I knew it was damaged, but I guess I got lucky when I opened it up. It was mostly a case of taking out one crystal and replacing it with another, for as long as it took for the device to give a sign of life."

"Very lucky indeed, Captain."

She didn't know if he was being sincere or not, suddenly realizing he was difficult to read. Or perhaps her own doubts were clouding her ability. "Once it was powered up, I simply stepped through it and Herit was killed."

"And from there on you and Master Bra'tac lived from planet to planet to avoid the Goa'uld?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's quite admirable, Captain."

She shrugged, "I don't know, Sir. We simply survived as best we could."

General Hammond had a strange look on his face as he leaned back in the small infirmary chair, arms crossed in front of his chest. "I'd say it was more than surviving; you did manage to build an army of Jaffa Rebels."

"Oh. Well, we only recently started recruiting other Rebels."

"How recent, Captain?"

"Um, it was after I encountered SG-1 on Hathor's planet. Colonel O'Neill told me he'd find a way for me to come home, so I knew I was just biding my time and when word of Hathor's death spread… Well, Master Bra'tac and I used it to our advantage. We knew Apophis was dead and Klorel was having a difficult time fighting Heru'ur, so the timing was just right."

"That was all it took, good timing?"

Sam heard the skepticism in his tone and tried to find a way to convince him. "It was mostly Bra'tac, Sir. You have to realize that his reputation precedes him. He's a bit of a celebrity among Jaffa, especially the ones in service of Apophis. So, when he told them about false gods and I backed him up… Well, we had some bad moments, but along the way we picked up more and more Rebels who helped recruit others."

The General nodded in understanding. "Doctor Jackson told me you kept journals?"

"Yes, Sir. Doctor Fraiser said the items had to be cleared first before I could share them, but I chronicled most of Master Bra'tac's journey to recruit rebels. There are some personal journals too, but I'd be happy to share the ones with relevant information about the Jaffa Rebellion and certain technology and cultures we encountered."

"We would appreciate it, Captain. I'm sure Doctor Jackson and his colleagues are more than eager to read about your first-hand experiences."

Sam watched as he got to his feet and automatically did the same. Apparently, her military training hadn't abandoned her entirely yet. "Was that all, Sir?"

"For now, Captain," he said. "I think it's more important to focus on your health now. Unless you have important information I need to know?"

"No, Sir."

He smiled and moved the chair to the other side of the room. "Good. There is something I want you to consider, though: your experiences and knowledge could make you invaluable to the SGC and I think it's important for you to think about what you want. Once the whole situation surrounding your circumstances has been cleared up, you'll be put on medical leave and if you pass all your physicals at the end of it, you can be reinstated. Probably with a promotion. But considering what you've been through, it's also possible that you won't want to return to active duty."

"You want me to decide whether I want to remain in the Air Force or resign," Sam concluded.

"Exactly, Captain," he said. "Now, I'm not saying that you can't work at the SGC as a civilian, but I think you need to explore your options before making that decision."

Stargate Command
Colorado Springs, CO

Jack casually strolled into the infirmary, pretending like he hadn't voluntarily been visiting it more often in the past few days than the whole past year. He was still wary of the medical personnel though – they were far too fond of their big needles in his opinion – and tried not to linger too long. The way to the quarantine room was one he could make with his eyes closed by now and it didn't take him long to reach it, expertly avoiding any of the staff…

Until he entered the room, closed the door behind him and saw someone in the bubble with Sam. Damn. He walked over to the plastic chair in front of the bubble but didn't sit down. It felt wrong to sit there and watch as the Doc and Sam were going about their business. Sam wasn't on display like some animal in the zoo or part of a play, so he'd wait until she could sit down on her side of the plastic and talk.

It didn't take long before the Doc, all suited up, packed up her things. "Colonel," she greeted, after exiting the bubble.

"Doc." He waited until she'd taken off her mouth mask and scrub cap to ask about Sam, unable to spot her on the other side of the plastic after she entered the bathroom. "She okay? I wanted to drop by for a few minutes but-"

"That's fine, Sir. I don't think Captain Carter will mind. Just… no more blue jello."

Jack held up his hands in defense, "Blue jello? I don't know what you're talking about, Doc."

Fraiser glared at him and somehow managed to look rather intimidating, which was impressive considering she was barely a head taller than Thor. "Someone smuggled it in and I know you're no stranger when it comes to the dessert. Sir."

"Pshaw," he waved it off. "Blue? I'd never touch the stuff! I'm a red jello kind of man, Doc."

"Right."

Reaching into his jacket pockets, Jack pulled out three pieces of alien fruit. "See? No jello. Just some Ojen fruit."

Doctor Fraiser eyed him suspiciously. "Ojen fruit?"

"A couple of new crates were shipped in from Hanka this morning and I figured Captain Carter might like it."

The Doc pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the appropriate bin with the rest of her protective clothing. "Well, I guess I should pick up a crate for Cassandra on my way home."

"You do that," he said, attempting to juggle the fruit.

"Just in time for Thanksgiving next week," she mused aloud. "You and your team are still coming over?"

Jack smirked, "You betcha. Cassie's been talking about it for weeks, wouldn't want to let the munchkin down."

Doctor Fraiser gave him a look that said she knew the feeling. "Oh, speaking of munchkins…"

Following her line of sight, he realized Sam had come out of the bathroom and was watching them, her daughter in her arms. "Oh, hey."

"Hey."

"I have rounds to make," Fraiser said, "but I'll be by later today, Captain."

Sam nodded in understanding and waited for the Doc to leave before turning to Jack. "What have you got there?"

"Ojen fruit. Or guangos, as Daniel likes to call 'em because it's a sort of cross between a guave and a mango. The fruit is native to Hanka, one of the planets where we built an observatory. The teams and scientists stationed there continued growing the fruits and vegetables and after every harvest they send us a lot of crates. They're pretty tasty and I figured your body would probably handle them better than jello."

"Yeah, the jello wasn't such a good idea…"

He'd been on his way to visit her yesterday when Daniel stopped him at the door to inform him she'd gotten sick from something she'd eaten. It hadn't taken the Doc long to figure out what the bad food was considering the vomit had been mostly blue… and apparently left quite a mess. "Sorry about that," he said, wincing.

Sam smiled wanly, "It's the thought that counts."

"But you're doing okay now?"

"Yeah."

"And Ife?" He asked, indicating the sleeping girl in her arms.

Sam nuzzled her daughter's hair and looked up at him from under her lashes. "Doctor Fraiser gave her some food that didn't sit well. She's been pretty lethargic too, but I think it's all part of adjusting to our surroundings and the different food. Nothing too serious. She'll be fine."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad."

"If you don't mind, I'll put her to bed now. Some of the food came back up and I had to clean her up, but she fell asleep again in the bathroom."

Jack frowned in concern as she walked off towards the curtained-off bed. "She sleeping a lot?"

Sam spoke in hushed tones as she disappeared behind the curtain but she reappeared after a minute or two. "Not abnormally so, I don't think. But it's not like there's a lot of other things to do in this bubble. Besides, she's slept through a lot worse."

"Off-world?"

"Yeah."

He felt bad about the irrelevant question – because what else could she have been referring to? – when a sad look came over her face. Time to change the subject. "So, you interested in these guangos?"

Sam smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes, and nodded, indicating the service hatch. "Yes, I'd love to try them later today. They actually look like something I've had before… I don't remember the planet, though. It's mentioned in one of the journals I gave Doctor Jackson yesterday."

"The fruit or the planet?"

"Both. There's even a drawing."

Jack looked at her in surprise after placing the fruit in the hatch and closing it. "Really?"

"Not a very good drawing," she admitted, ducking her head. "But a drawing nonetheless. It's better than my stick figures, I promise."

"Well, I'm sure Daniel or his geek squad will mention it when they find it, because that's just the kind of thing they find fascinating."

"And you don't, I take it?"

He smirked and shook his head, "Nope."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I don't know."

Sam leaned forward to grab the fruit from her side of the service hatch, her hair falling into her face. "Thanks."

"You cut your hair."

"Actually, Lieutenant Rush cut my hair," she said, running a hand over it self-consciously. "Just very basic, because of the length. She said I should go to the hairdresser to get it done properly."

Her hair had been very long, down to her ass. Not that he'd noticed or anything. Now it reached about halfway down her back. "Looks good on you."

"I don't know. Maybe I'll go back to a short style. This will do for now, though."

Jack frowned when he caught sight of his watch. "I've got to go. Meeting with Hammond and the team leaders."

"Oh. Of course."

"Look," he started, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Hammond mentioned something about talking to MacKenzie."

She made a face, but nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm not a big fan of shrinks, but that might not be a bad idea. He's an okay guy – for a shrink. Seems like he knows what he's doing and he really helped Daniel a while back, so…"

"I'll think about it."

Jack could tell she wasn't sold on it and he couldn't blame her, considering his own distaste of therapy and head shrinking, but she'd gone through a lot. "Sure. You do that."

"Thanks again for the fruit," she said, dimples showing in her smile.

He was helpless to resist and smiled in response. "Yeah sure, you betcha."

Stargate Command
Colorado Springs, CO

The lights in the room were less bright than earlier in the day. Sam hadn't noticed until she got off the bed and sat down in the chair in the middle of the bubble, facing her latest visitor. The man had a kind face and when he moved to take a seat on the other side of the plastic, the light glinted off the eagles on his shoulders. She sat up straighter. "Colonel."

"Most people, especially the military personnel on base, call me Doctor MacKenzie, not Colonel," he said, a small smile on his face. "Interesting."

"You're not wearing a doctor's coat, Sir."

He sat down and acknowledged her reply with a nod. "I was about to leave for the day when General Hammond told me you wanted to see me."

Sam suddenly felt nervous and shifted in her seat. "Well, don't let me stop you. I'll still be here tomorrow. And probably the day after and the one after that and so on."

"You believe that to be the case?"

"I haven't heard anything else yet."

MacKenzie got a small notepad from his pocket and flipped through it. "The General told me Doctor Fraiser is still waiting for some test results before making a decision about the duration of your quarantine."

"That's the last I heard too, although there's no word of when those results will come in."

"I can imagine that's frustrating."

She shrugged, "I guess."

"Not quite the homecoming you were expecting, I suspect, Captain. Or do you prefer 'Samantha'?" He paused, furrowing his brow as he looked down at his notes again. "Or 'Doctor'?"

Sam felt no more a doctor than she did a captain these days. As a matter of fact, it made her feel downright uncomfortable when people referred to her by her rank. Ironic, considering how hard she'd fought to make her way in the Air Force and to obtain her PhD. After more than two years of living off-world, even Sām felt more like her. "Just Sam will do… Doctor."

He smiled at the belated salutation, "Good, Sam it is then."

"… okay."

"Look, Sam," he said kindly, "there's no reason to beat around the bush. We both know why I'm here. I won't lie and belittle what you went through by telling you that I know what it was like, but I do have experience in treating POWs and, obviously, SGC personnel of whom some have gone through pretty traumatic experiences as well."

She sighed and picked at her scrubs. Talking about herself had never been one of her favorite things and sharing intimate or traumatic experiences was not something the Carters did. Her dad was – had been – a typical military man, not much of a talker and certainly not someone who dealt well, if at all, with feelings and problematic experiences. His idea of grieving her mother's death was to move on, work more and avoid mentioning her unless absolutely necessary. "I don't know if therapy is for me."

"Yet you agreed to meet with me."

"General Hammond more or less implied therapy was required and Colonel O'Neill suggested it couldn't hurt."

The shrink seemed amused. "Colonel O'Neill said that?"

"He said you weren't all bad and that you'd helped out Doctor Jackson a while back."

"While doctor-patient confidentiality prohibits me from discussing my patients, I can confirm that many people on base have benefited from similar sessions. Sometimes, just talking about it with a professional who is aware of what you face when you step through that stargate can be enough."

The problem was that she didn't really want to talk about it. Maybe her dad's way would work for her, too. "I don't know…"

"Yours may not have been a typical case of a POW, but you were a prisoner of war – with the Goa'uld," MacKenzie said. "Both during your time as a captive and once you were made a host. I know this is only your fifth day back on Earth, but if you don't address the trauma you've experienced more issues that'll make reintegrating into society difficult will arise. If they haven't already."

"I wasn't a captive for the whole time I was gone," she said, slowly.

The Doctor looked into the direction of the curtained-off bed in which Ife was sleeping and nodded, "So I've heard. You had already killed the Goa'uld inside of you by the time you gave birth to your daughter?"

"Yeah."

He wrote something down before looking up at her again. "I know you had no accurate frame of reference to the passing of time, but I'd say your daughter gives us a guestimate of how long you've been living off-world, fending for her and yourself."

Sam didn't want to dwell on Ife's age for too long. Not before she had figured out how to tell Jack, anyway. She didn't want anyone else to know before he did, but the timing wasn't right yet either. It would take time to adjust to a life on Earth, both for her and Ife, and it would be too much at once to involve him at this point. Besides, she really wanted to get to know him a little bit better, to find out if he even liked kids and was willing to step up if he knew the truth. "I suppose. We weren't alone, though. Master Bra'tac was with us most of the time. If it hadn't been for his help, we probably wouldn't have survived."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Sam."

"I'm not; I'm simply stating a fact."

Doctor MacKenzie had a look similar to Bra'tac's in his eyes when he gauged her. "I think you might be selling yourself short. Now, I know I don't have any first-hand knowledge, but I read the reports by Doctor Fraiser, Major Davis and General Hammond and I know not many people would have lasted as long as you did in captivity."

"They had to keep me alive to see Apophis," she said.

"Perhaps."

"That is the only reason I made it out of that cell."

The shrink made a noncommittal noise and checked his notes again. "Let's say that is true. You survived captivity because they made sure of it, although they didn't treat your injuries and practically starved you."

Sam nodded slowly, well aware of the facts. She'd been in that damn cell after all. Suffering and slowly dying… she shook herself, not wanting to be reminded of those days.

"Once you were on Apophis' ship you were interrogated for information about Earth," he said, looking up at her. "Brutally tortured, to be exact. But you didn't spill any secrets. You hung in there with a strength I can only admire. According to the statements made by you and your two Jaffa friends, your resistance was the reason the Goa'uld decided to make you a host. Even then you kept fighting and prevented an attack on Earth by stalling the Goa'uld in control of your body."

"That's… yeah, that's what happened," she said, forcing down the memories.

MacKenzie leaned forward, holding her gaze. "Somehow, you found the strength and determination to pull through and nearly two and a half years later, you're sitting here in front of me. Safe and sound."

Her eyes suddenly started burning with tears at those last words and she had to look away, pretending to check in on Ife.

"You are safe here, Sam. You and your daughter, both of you are safe."

"I know."

He waited until he had her full attention again. "It's day five."

She swallowed against her emotions, relieved the burning had subsided. "Yeah. It's hard to keep track, especially down here. I mean, they dim the lights," she said, gesturing at the ceiling lights, "but it's very different from what we've gotten used to."

"How have you been sleeping these past few days? I hear your daughter sleeps a lot."

"Like I said, the artificial lighting and recycled air is different, but I manage to get some sleep at night."

He narrowed his eyes, looking pensive. "For how long? How many hours a night?"

Once again, he reminded her of Bra'tac and she couldn't help a small smile. "Enough. It's not like I work off a lot of energy by being cooped up in here all day."

"Can you sleep through the night?"

Sam shook her head slowly, avoiding his gaze.

"Nightmares?"

"Sometimes," she said. "Other times it's Ife, personnel or medical equipment waking me."

A look of understanding washed over his face. "Circumstances required you to be a light sleeper. It's only natural for that to continue, especially when your surroundings are still unfamiliar. Once you're out of quarantine and living somewhere that feels more secure and comfortable, without strangers waltzing in and out, your sleeping pattern should adjust."

She wasn't as confident about that as he seemed to be, but just leaving the quarantine and having her own place sounded pretty damn good. She could deal with any restlessness or insomnia in that case. Maybe some kel'no'reeming would help, too. Candles weren't allowed in the bubble and the artificial light and buzzing and beeping sounds from medical equipment were too much of a distraction. The thought of showing that side of herself to any visitors or observers didn't sit well with her, either.

"Look, Sam," Doctor MacKenzie said, "mixed emotions about being back home are normal and I understand that you're not ready to share what you've been through. The past two years you've lived a life that was all about surviving, flying below the radar and keeping secrets. From what I understand, much of the time was spent in isolated areas, with just your daughter and Master Bra'tac.

"I don't expect you to immediately adjust to these new circumstances after such an unexpected homecoming. Frankly, that would have worried me. It's going to take time and we need to build trust between us before you'll feel comfortable about opening up to me. But I think it will do you, and by extension your daughter, good to consider regular sessions for the long run."