AU: When an exploration mission goes way off the left field, Jack and Sam are left to patch up their lives. Will that door stay open?
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of MGM/Amazon. No copyright infringement intended. I am once again taking my favourite two Gaters for a walk in an Alternate Universe. Takes place after 5.05 Red Sky with some canon episodes skipped (overlooked) and others referenced.
Rating: Mature. No triggers.
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Chapter 31: Snowball's Chance
Wednesday afternoon - Jack
The wash of familiarity quickly turned to anxiety, anger, and devastation all wrapped up in love as I watched MacKenzie and his goons roll the gurney holding an unconscious Sam away. The soldier in me hardened his eyes and pushed back against the part that the soldier had worked hard to keep locked away.
"How could you?" He screamed in my head. "She trusted you, Jack!" Ignoring that part of me as best as I could, I put to work the part that was needed to get through the next hour or two. Letting him out now would not help the situation.
"Calm down. Let's put out one fire at a time." I told him. Turning to Reynolds, I saw his smirk quickly turn to apprehension. Nodding to Daniel and Teal'c to follow Carter, I turned back to my replacement. "Briefing room. Now!" I ground out through my teeth before starting on my way.
"Sir!" Someone not Reynolds called out.
I spun around quickly, "WHAT!" I bellowed at the poor armoury airman.
"Your weapons. Sir." He asked quickly.
"Right." I responded impatiently as I handed over my P-90, zat and thigh holster with my combat knife, then stalked through the blast doors and up the stairs leading to the control room preparing to shout some more. I knew that the anger from coming from my alter-ego no-patience shadow-man. What did he expect me to do? Hug her, kiss her, stop the doctors from doing doctor things.
"You're not helping, you know." I cursed him, all the while trying to ignore the bubbling anger building. One of the many reasons why he had been relegated to that box when a calmer disposition was required.
"Neither are you. We should be down there tearing strips off that bastard, and you know it!" He seethed, letting me feel the depths of his hatred for MacKenzie, part of which had always managed to eke out every time anyone of us had to visit him ever since we all thought Daniel had died. God, I hoped we never had to go through that again.
"What purpose would that serve other than to get me court martialled?" I bit back at him as I approached the top of the second set of stairs on bone weary knees.
"Wouldn't be the first time." He scoffed. I sighed inwardly knowing he was right, but it wasn't about me. This had always been about her. Her career. Her happiness. Her life. Feeding him the images of why I locked our feelings for Carter up, both those that had happened and imagined images of her wearing stars and in charge of this place, I felt him acquiesce and slip into the background while I watched Reynolds cautiously make his way up the stairs.
"What the hell happened Albert? Why are they doping up my Major and dragging her away?" I demanded when he finally joined me. I already knew the story thanks to my shadow, but I wanted to hear the pseudo-base commander explain it.
"Your Major? Sir." He queried.
Narrowing my eyes, I took a step closer. "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds. My Major." I repeated. "She is still a member of SG-1, and a Major. As the leader of SG-1, that makes her my Major." Not letting him see in my expression all the other ways that she was my Major. Blinking quickly, I scolded my shadow for injecting those possessive thoughts into my waking consciousness.
"Of course, Sir. Well, she's seeing ghosts, talking to them in fact." He replied, standing a little bit taller after his comment did not make me backpedal. I knew as well as he did what the rumour mill was saying about us. What it had been saying for years. "MacKenzie says its schizophrenia." He added.
"WHAT! I've been gone for a few days, and you let that… that snarky self-important little man have our foremost expert on the Stargate committed!" I barked, unable to stop my alter-ego from rushing back from the depths of my psyche.
He visibly bristled at my remark. "Sir, with all due respect, she was talking to an imaginary version of you. We all saw her." He stated, motioning to the other man in the room who nodded his assent. I stared down Doctor Warner. When had he even arrived? I liked Warner. Ever since he did his utmost to save Kawalsky's life, his only fault being that he didn't push back against MacKenzie enough. There was a reason why Janet was CMO instead of William. They were both of equal rank and experience, but Janet was harder to persuade and didn't allow anyone to push her around or recommend any treatment she did not believe would be beneficial. There would be absolutely no way she would accept a diagnosis of schizophrenia for Carter, not when all of us were affected by the same thing.
Turning to the Doctor, I asked, "Warner, did you actually read the mission reports?" My question more rhetorical that anything because I knew he was well aware of the situation as Janet's stand-in.
He stood a little taller, though was still a good four inches shorter than my height of six foot two inches. "I am aware of what or rather who Major Carter thinks she can see." He responded carefully, "It is my professional opinion that the remaining members of SG-1 are enabling her delusions."
My anger amped up, though it wasn't strictly speaking mine, but rather the bundle of uncontrolled emotions that had clearly been keeping Sam company for the last few days. "Enabling - the - delusion!" I ground out, piercing him with my cranky Colonel glare. Taking a step closer, I looked down on him. "Enabling the DELUSION! What delusion is that Doctor?" I felt an immediate shift within myself, like a faint wave of static electricity and my anger almost completely disappeared. Oh, I was still pissed off, but the desire to ring the doctor's neck had abated.
"Me!" He said from beside me as his hands reached out and grabbed the Doctor by his white jacket lapels. The audible intake of breath from Warner was palpable but not unexpected. Though I had hoped for at least a yelp or demand to let him go. He merely stood transfixed unable to say a word, his face turning a paler shade of white as two sets of dark brown eyes bore holes into his face.
"Whoa!" Reynolds bellowed as he jumped back when Shadow Jack appeared and seemed to lunge at Warner in the same second. "What the hell!"
"Albert, Doctor. Meet Major Carter's delusion. He's all parts me minus the control and gentlemanly behaviour." I introduced them both to my other side. I could feel the anger pouring off my shade in dark waves. "Jack, let him go." I ordered, my eyes flicking to the cameras hoping he was only visible to the two men in the room. I didn't relish the paperwork involved with having anyone from security witness this little exchange.
"Why?" He asked through gritted teeth as his almost black eyes bore into Warner's head like masonry drill bits. Rather than answer him out loud, I turned and walked away projecting an image of an unconscious Sam into his mind. I'd seen her in that state enough times to know what she looked like. Moments later I felt him re-join with me, his fatigue from that little display weighing heavily on my already tired muscles.
"Umm Sir?" Reynolds stuttered. I turned and looked at him. "He's planning on sending her to the Academy psychiatric ward. Tomorrow." He confessed.
"Oh, there is not a snowball's chance in hell of that happening." I responded before turning and walking out of the briefing room leaving a stunned Reynolds and a recuperating Warner who had pulled out a chair to sit down.
As soon as I was out of sight and hearing of the briefing room, I broke into a run. I had to find her before MacKenzie pumped her full of more drugs. Images of a broken Daniel swam through my mind when Machello's bugs had him. MacKenzie had been adamant that Daniel was beyond saving then as well. I refused to let that happen to Carter. She had been through enough.
As a approached the elevator, I saw the doors close, and the numbers increase. Skidding to a halt, I changed directions and headed for the stairwell instead. Taking two stairs at a time, knowing my knees would punish me later for it, I managed to make it up the six flights faster than I had ever done before. Bursting out of the door into the path of a visibly distressed Lieutenant Nicolls.
"Sir!" She startled as the door flew outwards.
"Sorry Lieutenant. Where is Carter?" I asked impatiently.
"Isolation. He's got her strapped down. He won't listen... I tried to tell him..." She stated a little shakily, but stopped as if what she had to say was a secret. "Sir, please I need to do your post-mission medical."
"Not now. Later." I replied as I pushed past her. Reaching out to grab a hold of my arm, she stopped my advance toward Carter's room.
"Sir. I really need to do your post-mission medical. Now." She insisted, showing that same hard look in her eye when she ordered me to the infirmary after -775, only this time, with an added element of desperation when combined with her iron grip compelled me to follow her.
"Lieutenant, what is it?" I asked, wondering why my medical was suddenly the most important thing she had to do.
"Now, Sir. Please." She added the pleasantry as an afterthought. I had the distinct impression she wanted to tell me something without the audience of those on level sixteen who were trained to read lips. Nodding my assent, I turned and followed her the two dozen or so steps to the infirmary proper. "Bed 3 please Sir." She motioned as we entered the room. Walking over, I hoisted myself onto the bed and sat swinging my legs, waiting for her to arrange the cadre instruments she required for my impending torture on her mobile trolley, push them toward me and draw the curtain.
With shaky hands, she started with the thermometer in my mouth and the blood pressure cuff on my arm. I knew why she was doing those two first. Whatever it was she had to tell me would likely cause a spike. Closing my eyes, I resolutely willed my inner emotional ball of doom and gloom from imagining a hundred worst case scenarios. At length she removed the cuff and the temperature stick and moved onto my eyes with her penlight.
"Sam is pregnant, Sir." She murmured. The shock took longer to hit me than I expected. Was it shock or something else? Was the baby mine? It had to be. Right? Were they OK? But the one question that stood out the most was, 'What if MacKenzie's drugs hurt either of them?' The questions flooding my mind must have been visible in my eyes because she held a finger up to stop my anger-laced rapid-fire response. "She's been hiding it. I first suspected a couple of weeks ago when I changed her sheets and found spotting. Since that could also have been her cycle, I said nothing." I started to open my mouth but she held her finger up again when she saw the question form on my lips. "All of her tests have been inconclusive until two nights ago when a litmus test revealed higher than normal protein and hcG. Her blood pressure is much higher than it should be." She said, signalling that I could talk now. My heart was racing, more questions filling my brain along with large words like preeclampsia – a condition Sara had suffered from – not to mention shadow Jack bouncing around demanding that we go and find her now… now… NOW!
"That's… wow. Umm, high blood pressure is bad, right?" I asked already knowing the answer. She nodded as she prepared a shot of some fluid that they routinely gave to all off-world team members. Remembering her extreme behaviour in the Gate room, the very un-Carter-like begging and crying over what was happening to her, the realisation that I had let that man inject the mother of my child with some anti-psychotic drug hurtled into the forefront of my mind. My face must have taken on a very dark look because the Lieutenant took a step back and held her hands up before speaking.
"Sir. You didn't know. No one did." She said carefully. "It wasn't in her file, so Doctor MacKenzie didn't know either."
"That Lieutenant, is beside the point." I growled, jumping down from the bed. We were done. I had to find her. Shadow Jack's rampart hollering to find Sam had reached panic stations making it hard for me to ignore him, or box him up, or do anything other than hunt down the man responsible and tear him limb from limb. "She trusted me to keep her safe, she begged me not to let him inject her, and I stood there and let that… that doctor pump her full of God knows what." I ground out, as I reached for the curtain and nearly ripped it from the rails. If I hadn't been so wrapped up my own hurt feelings, this never would have happened. She never would have felt the need to hide our child from me. Despite knowing that her deception was my fault, the fact that she hid the knowledge still angered me. If I had known, I never would have left her here on her own. Pacing the room in an attempt to calm down, I turned back to the Lieutenant.
"Call Janet, get her here." I ordered, "Tell her everything. Ask her to have Sam tested properly. We will need to test for…" I muttered, listing things I knew from my family medical history as well as things that maybe linked to the father being over 40.
"Sir? Why all those things?" She asked.
I looked at her stunned, "Lieutenant…" I was about to remind her that she damned well who the father was, but stopped, just in case Janet had not confided in her favourite protégé.
"It's OK, Sir. Doctor Fraiser is well aware of the family history, and the age of the father." She said with a small smile, one that communicated clearly that she knew the stakes. She turned to clean up after my medical just as Daniel and Teal'c walked in.
"Jack. We have a problem." Daniel said with alarm.
"I know." I uttered back as I made to walk past him on my way to the isolation ward. "I'm going to see her now."
"She's gone." He said matter-of-factly, his words stopping me in my tracks as thoughts of what 'gone' could mean. None of them were good.
"Gone?" I said, walking back and grabbing him roughly by his lapels. "What do you mean gone?" I asked through gritted teeth, trying in vain to hide the panic, terror, and all-consuming anger in my tone. Gone. She couldn't be… not yet, not now, not ever. We finally had something more than our jobs to live for. More reason than just our desire to be together. A child. If she was gone, then so was... no. Suddenly the weariness in my body overtook and I couldn't stand anymore.