Sam entered her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She needed time alone, free from any interruptions—a daughter. The revelation echoed in her mind, sending shockwaves through her being. Sam leaned against the door, closing her eyes as she tried to process the swirling emotions within her. How was she supposed to navigate this new reality with a daughter she had never known?
Opening her eyes, Sam took a deep breath, forcing herself to confront the truth.
"Like you did in your reality, Samantha," she whispered aloud.
Her rational, cold side, always a reliable anchor, began to assert itself, pushing aside the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf her. This Jack, like the one in her reality, wasn't hers. And his daughter wasn't hers either. She was stranded here and needed to make the best of it.
Sam resolved to assume a new identity that resembled the deceased Samantha Carter as much as possible, presenting herself as her cousin, as he said. She would remain in the Air Force, in the Stargate Program, continuing her career while keeping the rest of her former life off-limits. It wasn't hers to claim. She needed to cast aside illusions and embrace her new reality as Colonel Carter.
With determination, Sam focused on the practicalities. She needed a new name, a new identity to carry forward.
"Emily," she mumbled her mother's second name. It seemed fitting. From now on, she would be Emily Carter. Samantha Carter had died for the second time, her past and history buried with her. It was a fresh start, a chance to rewrite her story.
Yet, despite her resolve, a pang of sadness gripped Sam's heart. She couldn't shake the feeling of loss, of leaving behind everything she had once held dear. But she pushed the emotion aside, steeling herself for the journey ahead. This was her new beginning, and she would face it head-on as Emily Carter.
With her decision firmly made, Sam wasted no time in taking action. The first order of business was to find Vala, but Daniel informed her that Vala was off-base for the day.
"Okay, Daniel, so I need your help," she said, urgency coloring her tone.
She couldn't afford to delay; her resolve might waver if she waited too long, and her emotions might surface. She didn't have that luxury. Her brain had to be in command from now on, all the time. Daniel looked at her with surprise as she quickly handed him a list. His eyebrows shot up as he scanned the items written on it.
"Are you sure you want me to shop for this? Maybe you should wait for Vala..." he trailed off, uncomfortable with the task.
With no time to lose, Sam was stubborn.
"Look, Daniel, I've listed everything you need in detail. Just go to the supermarket and get them. Show the list if you have any doubts," she instructed firmly.
Daniel swallowed, clearly sensing the gravity of the situation.
"Why do you need these things, Sam?" he asked cautiously.
Sam cleared her throat, her tone becoming colder than intended.
"Because I'm stranded here, Daniel. I cannot return to my reality, and I can't continue as Samantha Carter. So, I have to become someone else," she explained briefly.
Daniel nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Okay, I'll go," he agreed, sensing the urgency in her request.
Sam took a deep breath, relief flooding her as Daniel agreed to help.
"Thank you," she murmured gratefully.
"Does Jack know about this?" Daniel inquired as he reached for the door.
Sam managed a strained smile, though it failed to reach her eyes.
"It was his idea," she admitted quietly, sinking into a chair and returning her focus to the papers on the table. They were useless.
"Oh," Daniel said, realization dawning on him. He pocketed the list, bid her goodbye, and left to fulfill her request, leaving Sam to grapple with the weight of her decision alone.
While Jack negotiated with Carolyn for his release from the infirmary, Daniel navigated the supermarket's aisles, trying to locate everything on Sam's list. Temptation nagged at him to call Vala for assistance, but the knowledge that she was occupied with Grace dissuaded him. He knew the questions her involvement would raise, questions he wasn't prepared or authorized to answer. So, he persevered alone, determined to fulfill Sam's request.
Finally, with a bag brimming with beauty products in hand, Daniel made his way back to the Mountain. He was in the corridor when he collided with Jack, scattering some items onto the floor.
"Hey there!" Jack exclaimed, bending down to help pick them up.
"Damn," Daniel cursed under his breath, joining in the effort to retrieve the fallen items.
Jack plucked a pack of hair dye from the ground, shooting Daniel a curious glance.
"Changing colors, Danny boy?" he quipped with a grin.
Daniel accepted the pack, hastily shoving it back into the bag.
"It's not for me. It's for Sam," he clarified.
Jack's expression darkened.
"What?" he demanded, rising to his feet.
Daniel ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the impending conversation.
"She gave me a list when she couldn't find Vala. She said it was your idea. Was it?" he asked, bracing himself for the response.
Jack swallowed hard, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.
"Yes, but I didn't mean for it to happen now, right this instant. For crying out loud, we were talking, discussing possibilities," he angrily explained, snatching the bag from Daniel's hands.
Daniel yielded without protest. "Be my guest," he said, stepping aside as Jack headed toward Sam's room.
The airman had been dismissed, and Jack knocked on the door. Sam opened it, surprised to see him.
"General," she greeted, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"Carter," Jack returned, entering without waiting for an invitation.
Sam arched an eyebrow but closed the door behind him. Jack upended the bag onto her bed without ceremony.
"Eager to change?" he quipped as he inspected the products Daniel had procured.
Sam's cheeks flushed crimson.
"Just following instructions, Sir," she replied tersely.
Jack leveled her with a stern look.
"We were talking, Carter. Just talking," he reminded her.
Sam crossed her arms defensively.
"Might as well get it over with as soon as possible," she retorted.
Jack picked up a pair of scissors, his curiosity piqued.
"All by yourself?" he inquired.
Sam's blush deepened. "I can manage," she insisted.
Jack rolled his eyes.
"Why can't you wait for Vala?" he pressed.
Sam attempted to snatch the scissors from his grasp, but he deftly avoided her.
"Because I want to do it now," she insisted.
"Jesus, you're stubborn in every reality," Jack muttered.
Sam clenched her jaw, attempting to reclaim the scissors again, only to have Jack's hand land firmly on her shoulder.
"Sit," he commanded.
"Excuse me?" Sam's eyes widened in surprise.
Jack gestured to the chair in front of the bathroom mirror.
"If you're insistent on doing this now, I'll cut your hair. I used to do it for my wife. So, sit," he instructed, his tone softening.
Sam's face burned with embarrassment, feeling the rush of blood to her cheeks.
"There's no need... I can cut..." she stammered.
But Jack persisted, his hand still on her shoulder, guiding her to the chair.
"Sit," he repeated gently.
With trembling hands, Sam complied, her resolve wavering in the face of Jack's unexpected offer of assistance.
Sam sat tensely in the chair, her hands folded tightly in her lap; Jack stood behind her, scissors in hand, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension, both of them acutely aware of the significance of this moment. Jack's fingers hovered uncertainly over Carter's hair, the weight of his actions bearing down on him as memories of his deceased wife flooded his mind.
With a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself against the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Slowly, he began to comb through Carter's hair, his movements deliberate and methodical. Each snip of the scissors echoed in the silence, punctuating the air with a sense of finality.
Sam couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as the first strands of hair fell to the ground. This wasn't how she had envisioned her life unfolding, yet here she was, allowing Jack to change her appearance in a desperate attempt to assimilate into this unfamiliar reality.
Jack's hands trembled imperceptibly as he continued to cut, his mind drifting back to the countless times he had performed this simple task for his wife. The memory of her laughter, the way she would playfully swat at his hands when he got too close to her ears, threatened to consume him.
"Jack," Sam's voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. He glanced at her reflection in the mirror, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes mirrored his own. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack hesitated for a moment before offering her a small, reassuring smile.
"I'm fine," he replied, his voice barely audible. But even as he spoke the words, he knew they were a lie. The truth was, he was far from fine. Cutting this Sam's hair, a simple gesture that held so much significance, had dredged up memories he had long tried to bury.
Yet, despite the weight of the past bearing down on him, Jack continued to cut, his hands steady as he worked to reshape Carter's hair. With each snip of the scissors, he concentrated only on the task.
Jack couldn't help but feel a sense of catharsis as the last strands of hair fell to the ground. At that moment, as he looked at Carter's reflection in the mirror, he knew they were both embarking on a transformation journey. Though the road ahead would undoubtedly be difficult, the face looking at him was the same face he loved with all his heart, even if she came from an alternate reality.
"There," Jack said, placing the scissors on the vanity.
Sam swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat. He had cut her hair without asking about the length or anything else. Sam had worn her hair in a braid cascading down her shoulder blades. Now, it hung loose, barely grazing her shoulders.
"Thank you," she managed to say, her voice thick with emotion.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
"You can ask Vala to rectify it later," he suggested abruptly. A sudden need to escape the room and her presence overtook him.
"Okay," Sam replied, her body remaining still.
"I... I have things to do," Jack stammered; his words rushed as he made a hasty exit, feeling like he was fleeing from a swarm of replicators.
Alone in the room, Sam closed her eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely. This was proving to be much more complex than she had anticipated. She needed to distance herself from this Mountain and him as soon as possible.
Gathering her resolve, Sam stood and reached for the pack of hair dye. It was time to change to a darker tone and fully embrace Emily Carter's persona. But even as she moved forward with her transformation, a part of her wished that her heart would also accept this new reality.
Jack had spent over an hour on the phone with the White House, engaged in a tense and protracted dialogue with the President. When he finally hung up, Landry looked at him, unable to disguise his anxiety.
"So? What have they decided?" he asked, his tone laden with anticipation.
"She stays," Jack replied, his expression weary. "They received a report from McKay stating that it's impossible to return her to her reality without a quantum mirror. She'll assume another identity, posing as Carter's cousin. She'll receive a new ID but can retain her rank and continue in the program and the Air Force. They want her. The cover story will be that she's been operating behind the scenes and on covert operations due to their physical similarities. Still, she can operate openly now since that risk no longer exists. It's much bull, but the Pentagon isn't exactly known for their cover stories," he sighed.
Landry mirrored Jack's sigh, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon him.
"Right... And where will she be assigned?" he inquired slowly, bracing himself for the answer.
"That's still to be decided. She'll have a say in it, in any case. It's not final, but they're willing to make adjustments if possible," Jack replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
Landry regarded him with surprise. "They must want her pretty badly," he remarked.
Jack nodded gravely.
"She's a Samantha Carter, Hank. We all know what that means. Even if things are quieter now, they can escalate at any moment. And when they do, we'll need her," he explained, the gravity of his words not lost on Landry.
"We will," Landry conceded, acknowledging the undeniable truth in Jack's assessment.
"I'll inform her of the news," he decided, rising from his seat.
As Jack left the room, Landry couldn't help but wonder which assignment this Samantha Carter would ultimately choose and what challenges lay ahead for her in this new reality.
Jack didn't need to knock this time because Sam's door was already open. She was seated at her desk, typing away on the computer, fully engrossed in her work. Jack stood silently by the doorway, watching her intently. She had dyed her hair a darker shade, and as he looked at her, he couldn't help but be reminded of his late wife. It was even more challenging in some ways than when she was blonde, though he couldn't quite understand why. Nevertheless, he had to admit that she looked great, significantly after Vala had adjusted her haircut.
Sam had informed him of her chosen name earlier, a decision that had struck a chord in his heart. "Emily Carter," she had said, explaining that it was her mother's second name and a way to honor her. Jack had nodded, refraining from mentioning that he and his wife had considered that name for a potential second daughter alongside Grace. Despite the pang of nostalgia it elicited, he had no objections to her choice.
Lost in thought, Jack didn't notice when Sam stopped typing and turned to face him.
"Yes, Sir?" she prompted for the third time, breaking him out of his reverie.
Jack cleared his throat, pulling himself back to the present.
"Sorry. I've received the final decision from the White House," he began, his gaze shifting from her face to the wall beside her.
"Oh... And?" Sam inquired, rising slowly from her seat.
Jack hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"McKay supported your report, so you'll continue in the Air Force and the Program with your current rank but under the identity of Emily Carter. The cover story is the usual crap—operating behind the scenes and on covert operations until now due to physical similarities. You'll have a say in your assignment, and they'll do their best to accommodate," he explained, his voice steady but avoiding direct eye contact.
Sam listened carefully, noticing Jack avoiding looking at her directly since she had changed her hair color.
"I see," she replied, acknowledging the information.
As Jack turned to leave, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more he wanted to say, something left unspoken between them. But for now, she pushed aside her thoughts, focusing on the reality of her new identity as Emily Carter and the challenges ahead.
Grace sat in her bedroom, boredom gnawing as she awaited her father's return from the base. He had informed her that Samantha Carter, or Emily Carter, would be staying, as there seemed to be no way to return her to her reality. While Grace had felt a twinge of sadness at the name change, she couldn't contain her joy at the prospect of having someone resembling her mother around again. She had been asking her father to meet her, but each time, he had refused, leaving Grace increasingly frustrated.
Some days had already passed since they had arrived at Colorado Springs.
Jack entered the room as she idly flipped through the channels on the TV.
"Weren't you supposed to be doing your homework?" he inquired.
Grace rolled her eyes, explaining that she had already completed it thanks to the school sending assignments via email and attending classes through video calls.
Jack set down the Chinese takeout on the table, and Grace eagerly began unpacking the bags. He headed to the bathroom to change, and upon his return, Jack noticed Grace digging into her meal.
"Sorry, but I was hungry," she mumbled, taking a bite of an egg roll.
"Eat away," he encouraged, opening a beer for himself.
Grace seized the moment to broach the subject she had been eager to discuss.
"So, Daddy..." she started, only to be cut off immediately by Jack's firm. "No."
Undeterred, Grace persisted.
"But I want to meet her, Dad," she insisted.
"Eventually, but not now," Jack reiterated, echoing his previous responses.
Frustration mounting, Grace blurted out, "What are you so afraid of?"
Jack's demeanor shifted, his eyes darkening at her question. Grace realized then that her father's reluctance stemmed from fear, though she couldn't pinpoint its source.
"You don't want me to meet her. Fine, I understand that. But why, Dad? What are you afraid of?" she pressed.
Jack hesitated before admitting, "Nothing," though his tone betrayed his lie.
Grace set her chopsticks down, her expression serious.
"Mommy always said it's bad to lie," she reminded him.
Jack sighed, relenting under her gaze.
"I'm sorry. You're right, and it's bad to lie. I'm afraid you'll get hurt, honey," he confessed.
Confusion clouded Grace's features as she asked, "Why, Dad?"
Jack struggled to find the words, his heart heavy with the weight of his explanation.
"Because she may look like your mother, but she isn't. And you want your mother back. She isn't your mother, Grace," he explained gently.
Grace paused, considering his words before responding firmly, "I know she's not my actual mother. But she's a version of my mother, Dad."
Despite Jack's reservations, Grace remained steadfast in her belief, unwilling to let go of the hope that this version of Samantha Carter could somehow fill the void left by her mother's absence. And she wasn't willing to change her mind.
After the decision was officially made, Jack was tasked with returning to his duties. His final assignment was to discuss the position Colonel Emily Carter had in mind and then proceed accordingly. So, he requested to use Hank's office for an official meeting with the new Colonel. The base was abuzz since Sam/Emily began moving around freely. They had managed to keep her arrival from another reality, contained to the airmen in the gate room and the nurses in the infirmary, who had been instructed not to disclose anything, along with the few staff present. Fortunately, her appearance coincided with when the base was minimally staffed.
However, now that everyone had seen the striking resemblance of the late Colonel Samantha Carter, discussions were rampant. She looked like her twin sister, save for a few differences, such as hair color. Naturally, everyone felt sympathy for General O'Neill, who had to confront the daily reminder of his deceased wife. Jack was eager to return to D.C. and leave this drama behind, but he had one last conversation.
Sam sat in Landry's office, donning her new dress, blues, and identity.
"So, Colonel, any idea about your next post?" he inquired.
Sam swallowed. She had deliberated extensively on this, taking a significant risk after initially deciding to maintain her distance from him and his daughter. However, as time passed and she organized her thoughts, Sam resolved to pursue a different path. For some unknown reason, she had been sent to a reality where she had died but had once been married to Jack, and they had a daughter—everything she had always wanted in life but never achieved in her reality. Well, Colonel Emily Carter was now determined to pursue her happiness.
"The Pentagon, Sir. Homeworld Security," she stated, composed.
Jack blinked once, twice, then a third time. He must have misheard, so he smiled.
"I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood. I thought you said Homeworld Security," he remarked.
Sam maintained her poker face.
"I did. Sir," she confirmed.
Jack's expression paled.
"You aren't serious," he uttered slowly.
Sam held his gaze without wavering.
"I am. Sir," she affirmed.
Jack clenched his jaw.
"Why the hell do you want to go to Homeworld? I'll be your CO," he snapped.
"And?" she countered.
Jack's heart raced as he thought about the implications. She was right. They weren't married or involved in any way. She was supposedly his wife's cousin.
"Your talent will be wasted there," he argued.
Sam shrugged. "I beg to differ. Sir," she rebutted.
He noticed she added the "Sir" a little too late in her sentences.
Suddenly, a wild idea crossed Jack's mind. Essentially, they were the same.
"You won't see her," he warned.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Who?" she queried, omitting the "Sir" this time.
"Grace," he stated slowly.
Sam swallowed, realizing he had already gone there. No problem, she was prepared.
"You are her father, so..." she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Jack held up a finger.
"Exactly, and you are not her mother. Got that, Carter?" he stated coldly.
"Loud and clear, Sir," she responded in the same tone.
They stood there, locked in a silent exchange, reminiscent of facing each other through an energy shield many years ago when he refused to leave her behind. They were later compelled to confront their feelings during a Tok'ra test. In one reality, it had resulted in a marriage; in another, they had gone different paths.
Jack swallowed.
"You should consider another post, Colonel," he advised.
Sam shook her head. "My choice has been made. Sir. You can, of course, reject it," she declared.
She was cornering him, and Jack cursed silently.
"You have one week to report for duty, Colonel. Dismissed," he commanded, turning his back.
Sam rose, saluted him, and exited the office. Jack placed both hands on his face, attempting to stifle his frustration.
Later that afternoon, Jack collected Grace from the hotel, and together, they boarded the first available military plane bound for D.C. After bidding farewell to their friends, Jack made sure to keep Grace away from the SGC. He had yet to broach the topic of Sam's new position with her, especially since Grace had ceased inquiring about Sam recently. Hoping for a smooth transition back to Washington and Grace's return to school, Jack anticipated a brief respite before confronting the reality of Colonel Emily Carter's new role at Homeworld Command in a week.
Upon their arrival home, Grace expressed her desire to rest, longing for the familiarity of her bed. Jack nodded in understanding and retreated to his bedroom. Seated on the edge of his bed, he reached for the nightstand drawer, his movements deliberate as he retrieved the black velvet box containing Sam's rings. A solitary tear traced a path down his cheek as he opened it. His fingers then sought out her dog tags, clutching them tightly in his grasp before finally reclining, closing his eyes in a silent moment of remembrance. Oh, how he missed her. With the weight of grief heavy upon him, he drifted into slumber, still holding onto her memory and the open box containing her rings.
