Jack remained with Grace in the cabin, attempting to salvage what he could, but the damage had already been inflicted. His daughter's heart had been shattered, and despite his best efforts, nothing seemed to alleviate her pain. After two days of trying to mend the wounds, Jack was ready to return home when his cell rang.
"O'Neill," he said, not recognizing the number.
"General, it's Cameron Mitchell, Sir," Cam said.
Jack furrowed his brow. "Mitchell? What's wrong, and why the hell are you calling me?" he asked, moving to the deck so Grace couldn't hear him. He tried to avoid having work-related conversations near her.
"Sorry to bother you, but..." Cam hesitated.
"Get on with it, Colonel," Jack said, his tone terse.
Cameron cleared his throat. "It's about Colonel Carter, Sir," he said quickly.
Jack straightened his back.
"Carter? What's wrong with her?" he asked slowly, dread suddenly settling over him.
Cameron cleared his throat again.
"I didn't know either, Sir, but she listed me as her emergency contact. I guess I was her friend in her reality also, Sir," Cameron said slowly.
He knew Jack wasn't particularly fond of him and his friendship with Sam, but they had known each other since the Academy, fought together in the Gulf War, and remained good friends. They never crossed that line because she wasn't ever interested, and Cam accepted that.
"What happened to Carter?" Jack asked, a cold shiver running down his spine.
Cameron swallowed.
"Well, Sir, she was admitted to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center after collapsing at the Pentagon. They tried to rouse her at the Pentagon multiple times but were unsuccessful, so they sent her to Walter Reed," Cameron explained.
Jack had to grab the rail for support. "She collapsed? How is she?" he asked, his voice faltering at the end.
Cameron cleared his throat again.
"She was moved, Sir, to a clinic. She was diagnosed with severe depression, but her condition is classified. I don't have access, so I'm calling you," he explained.
Jack's mind was racing.
"Send me everything you have about her process. I'm at my cabin now, but I'll return to D.C. today and see what is happening. Thank you, Mitchell, for calling," Jack said, his voice tight and concerned.
Cameron sighed.
"I know she isn't our Sam, Sir, but she is at the same time, you know... I couldn't let her be by herself. I had to go to D.C.," he said somberly.
"You did the right thing, Mitchell, but I'll take care of things from now on. Thanks," Jack said and hung up.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed to the lake.
Then he entered the cabin and told Grace they were going back home. Grace still had some Easter vacation left, and he resolved to stay by her side. His daughter needed him now more than ever, and he had no idea what Carter's situation was. The beaming was swift, and they were home in no time.
While checking his email, he immediately saw Mitchell's message from the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. Colonel Emily Carter had been admitted there after collapsing at the Pentagon. Despite multiple attempts to rouse her at the Pentagon, they were unsuccessful. Following a thorough medical evaluation and testing, she had been diagnosed with severe depression. Colonel Carter was now on medical leave at a specialized clinic known for its success in treating such cases. The email emphasized that her condition was classified.
His fingers quickly dialed the clinic's number.
After identifying himself and requesting to speak with the clinic's director, Jack was quickly briefed on Carter's condition, and the news was far from reassuring. The medical terminology used was "major depressive disorder (MDD)," although Doctor Tamara Williams hesitated to label it as such outright. She explained to Jack that Colonel Carter exhibited several symptoms consistent with MDD, but she remained somewhat skeptical.
"Why is that, Doctor?" Jack inquired, his anxiety palpable.
Dr. Williams took a deep breath before responding. "Well, General, I've been made aware of the unique circumstances surrounding Colonel Carter's case. Rest assured, I've signed a nondisclosure agreement as requested by your people," she assured him.
Jack glanced at the email once more. "And?" he prompted.
"Colonel Carter is experiencing profound sadness, along with insomnia. During our interactions, she conveyed feelings of worthlessness and guilt without giving me a reason. Communication has been difficult as she tends to withdraw or, more precisely, she doesn't talk," Dr. Williams explained.
Jack swallowed hard, absorbing the gravity of the situation. "So, you're overseeing her treatment?" he clarified.
"Yes, given the classified nature of her case, I've been assigned as her primary physician," Dr. Williams confirmed.
Jack ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Very well, Doctor Williams. I expect daily updates on her condition, even if she doesn't communicate. Send me an email stating her day's status. Is that understood?" he instructed firmly.
Seated in her office, Dr. Williams nodded in agreement. "Understood, General. Will you be visiting her? She hasn't received any visitors thus far," she inquired. "The only name I have on her file is of Colonel Cameron Mitchell, but he has no clearance to come here," she added.
Jack cleared his throat. "I'll need to check my schedule. If I do visit, I'll inform you in advance. Colonel Mitchell won't be visiting her. Goodbye, Doctor," he said, ending the call.
As he set down his phone, Jack's hands trembled, and he stared at the device for several moments, his heart pounding in his chest. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Sam lay in the hospital bed, vaguely aware of her surroundings. Everything felt like a blur, perhaps due to the pills they insisted on giving her every day and every night. She didn't care anymore. All she wanted was to be left alone, which seemed impossible. A doctor insisted on talking to her, asking questions she had no desire to answer. So, she remained silent, hoping they would eventually go away. That's all Sam wanted – for them to leave her alone.
Sleep was elusive, and it was only with medication when it did come. Without it, she lay awake in bed, alone with her thoughts. And her thoughts were dark and suffocating. One sentence, in particular, echoed in her mind incessantly: "You could never be a mother." He had said that to her, and he was right. She wasn't mother material, and she had proven it time and time again. She wasn't worthy of being anyone's wife, not even Pete's. "She only cared about herself," her Jack had accused her. And this Jack had seemingly agreed, confirming her deepest fears.
She felt unfit for everyone around her, a burden they had to bear. Maybe that's why her father had wanted a boy instead of her. Sam closed her eyes and let the tears fall freely. Her nights were consumed by this relentless cycle of self-loathing and despair, a continuous nightmare reminding her of her perceived worthlessness. She wasn't doing anything in this reality, just as she hadn't in her reality. Why was she still alive when the other Samantha Carter had died? Why hadn't the universe chosen the right Carter to perish?
Sam buried her face in the pillow, muffling her sobs. The weight of her existence pressed heavily upon her, suffocating her with its relentless grip.
Jack decided not to inform Grace about Carter's health situation. He had two main reasons for this decision: firstly, he wanted to assess the situation himself before discussing it with his daughter, and secondly, he feared Grace might become overwhelmed with guilt if she found out. So, he kept the matter to himself, relieved that the topic didn't come up in their conversations, at least not for the time being.
As Grace returned to school and life resumed its ordinary course, Jack returned to Homeworld. His secretary informed him that the news of Colonel Carter's nervous breakdown spread rapidly among the staff. Jack clarified to his secretary that any discussion would have severe consequences.
Unable to focus on his work with the weight of concern for Carter on his mind, Jack canceled his appointments for the day and left for the clinic where she was staying. During the drive, he called Dr. Williams to inform her of his impending arrival. She mentioned that Colonel Carter was having a "bad day" but didn't provide further details, and Jack didn't press for them.
Dr. Tamara Williams greeted General O'Neill at the clinic's entrance. Jack couldn't help but notice the heightened security measures as they entered.
"Welcome, General," she said warmly.
"Doctor," Jack replied as they walked through a spacious corridor flanked by glass windows, revealing well-tended interior gardens.
"Is this a government facility?" Jack inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Dr. Williams smiled. "It operates under military administration, but we also receive private donations," she explained.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Is that legally allowed?" he asked.
The doctor smiled again. "I'm not a lawyer, General. I'm solely focused on caring for my patients," she said as they continued their stroll.
They entered a large recreation room adorned with several tables and chairs. Soft music filled the air, and there was no television. Jack scanned the room but didn't spot Carter.
"Where's Colonel Carter?" he asked.
Dr. Williams cleared her throat. "She hasn't left her room since admission," she revealed.
"Never?" Jack asked, his concern growing.
The doctor shook her head as they moved on to another corridor. "Correct," she confirmed. "Now, about her condition—"
Before she could finish, the doctor stopped abruptly before a door, her hands slipping into her pockets. "General O'Neill, I must confess that Colonel Carter's case is unlike any I've encountered. I was unfamiliar with alternate realities until now," she confessed.
Jack's expression softened as he understood the doctor's dilemma. "It's understandable, doctor. Most people are," he murmured.
"But most importantly," Dr. Williams continued, "I must help the woman inside this room. She's dealing with a lot, and her refusal to communicate complicates matters. It's as if she's given up on life entirely."
Jack's heart sank at her words. "Is she conscious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor shook her head. "No. We had to sedate her after she attempted to overdose and then became extremely agitated. She's currently on suicide watch," she explained, her tone grave.
Jack's breath caught in his throat as Dr. Williams unlocked the door. Carter lay on the bed, her wrists restrained. Memories of past traumas like his wife's kidnapping by Adrian Conrad flooded Jack's mind, and he approached her bed with a heavy heart.
"It's for her safety," Dr. Williams reiterated as Jack reached for Carter's cold hand.
"You said she tried to overdose?" Jack asked tensely.
Dr. Williams looked at him, her face reflecting nothing except her concern for the well-being of the woman lying on the bed.
"After one of our nurses neglected her duty, leaving a tray of medicines unattended for a few minutes, she discovered that several medications were missing upon her return. Upon inquiry, Colonel Carter didn't say a word, nor did she have the medicines in her possession, as confirmed by our investigation. Later, during the subsequent shift, the nurse found Colonel Carter unresponsive, prompting him to take drastic measures to awaken her. Subsequent blood tests revealed that she had received a dosage of the missing medication well beyond the prescribed limit, leading to suspicion of an overdose and necessitating the use of restraints."
Jack looked at her again, the dark circles under her eyes more evident due to her paler complexion.
"So, you don't know if she overdosed or if it was neglected by one of your staff?" Jack asked icily.
Dr. Williams swallowed hard.
"No, but I assure you that everyone involved is being thoroughly investigated," she said.
"I'll place an armed airman here, inside her room, if I have to, Doctor. To ensure Colonel Carter's safety", he warned.
The doctor shook her head quickly.
"There's no need, General. Now, her treatments are done by two nurses every time to avoid errors. I assure you we have this under control", she said.
Jack looked at Carter again.
"What's her treatment plan?" Jack inquired, his voice filled with concern.
Dr. Williams consulted her clipboard. "She's been prescribed antidepressants and stimulants. I've suggested she attend a support group, but she refused," she explained.
Jack managed a weak smile. "I'll bet she did," he admitted, gently stroking Carter's hand.
"I'm open to suggestions, General," Dr. Williams replied, crossing her arms.
Jack sighed. "Please ask her if I can visit. Even if the answer is no, I need to try," he requested, his eyes pleading.
The doctor nodded, and Jack reluctantly released Carter's hand. With a heavy heart, he bid her farewell and left the room, his thoughts consumed by worry for Carter.
Jack returned home, deeply disturbed by what he had witnessed at the clinic. Despite his efforts to disguise his emotions, the weight of the situation pressed heavily on him. He was grateful that Grace was away at a birthday party, giving him space to process everything before facing her.
His thoughts kept returning to the image of Carter lying in that hospital bed, her wrists restrained. The realization that she might have tried to overdose weighed heavily on his heart.
"Christ," he muttered, downing a bourbon to numb his turmoil.
He never intended for things to escalate to such a point. All he ever wanted was to protect his daughter, never to cause her pain. The guilt gnawed at him, consuming him with shame for the harsh words he had spoken to Carter.
Closing his eyes, he wished desperately for the chance to speak with her again, to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. But he knew that forgiveness might not come quickly, if at all. And the thought of facing her again, of seeing the disappointment in her eyes, was almost too much to bear.
Days passed without news from the clinic, leaving Jack in restless anticipation. Then, one day, while working at his office, he received a call from Dr. Williams informing him that Colonel Carter had agreed to see him. Jack wasted no time, telling his secretary he had an urgent meeting outside the Pentagon and instructing her not to be disturbed.
He drove to the clinic, preferring to keep a low profile and avoid unnecessary gossip. As expected, Dr. Williams was waiting for him at the entrance when he arrived.
"General," she greeted him warmly.
"Doctor. How is she?" Jack inquired anxiously as they entered the facility.
Dr. Williams offered a reassuring smile. "She still hasn't spoken to me, but there's been no further attempts to harm herself. She claims it was an accident, and I'm inclined to believe her. If she intended to end her life, she would have done it. However, we must adhere to our protocols," she explained.
Jack nodded, understanding the necessity of caution in such situations. When the topic turned to their impending conversation with Carter, Dr. Williams raised the issue of the room's cameras.
"Do you want them on or off?" she asked.
Jack hesitated momentarily before requesting, "Please turn them off."
The doctor nodded, acknowledging his preference. "It seems we may encounter a technical glitch," she said faintly.
As they stood outside Carter's room, Dr. Williams placed her hand on the door, offering Jack a final word of caution. "If things become difficult, there's an emergency button above the headboard. Just press it, and the staff will come."
Jack appreciated the advice but was determined to handle the situation himself. "Thanks, Doctor," he replied before opening the door, his hand brushing against hers.
Inside, Carter lay on the bed, her expression distant and detached. Jack took a deep breath, preparing himself for the encounter ahead.
"Hi, Carter," Jack said softly from the doorway, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and regret.
Sam turned to look at him, her eyes vacant and devoid of their usual spark. She remained silent as he approached the bed.
"So, forced vacations?" he asked, attempting to break the heavy silence between them. Sam followed his movements with her eyes but remained tight-lipped.
Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself to address the elephant in the room.
"I'm sorry for everything, but mostly for what I said in the cabin. You didn't deserve it, and it was uncalled for," he admitted, his tone sincere.
Sam lowered her gaze, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. She looked smaller somehow as if the world's weight was bearing down on her shoulders.
"It was true," she replied quietly, her voice hoarse from disuse.
Jack shook his head, his expression filled with remorse. "No, it wasn't. It was cruel because I wanted to hurt you," he confessed, his regret palpable.
Sam continued to stare at her hands, her fingers tracing patterns on the bedsheets.
"No need. I do that all by myself exemplarily," she murmured, her words heavy with self-condemnation.
Feeling a surge of desperation, Jack searched for a way to reach her, to break through the thick walls she had erected around herself.
"How can I help you?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.
Sam let out a bitter laugh for the first time since she was in the clinic, her eyes flashing with defiance.
"Kill me," she retorted coldly, her words cutting through the air like knives.
Jack's heart clenched at her words, his pain mirroring hers.
"Stop that. You know I can't do that," he replied, his voice strained with emotion.
Sam met his gaze, her eyes blazing with intensity.
"Then you have no use for me," she stated dismissively, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Jack pressed on, refusing to give up on her, his determination unwavering.
"So, you've just given up? Because of what? A ten-year-old was mean to you?" he challenged, his frustration evident.
Sam shot him a furious glare, her anger palpable.
"Do you know how often Grace was mean to me since she began to speak and understand the impact of her words? To Sam? It's called parenting," Jack continued, his tone firm yet compassionate.
Sam clenched her jaw, struggling to contain her emotions.
"It hurts like hell, sure. Kids can be cruel, and we want to strangle them sometimes. But we don't. We learn to be better parents instead and help them to improve," he reasoned, his words laced with empathy.
Jack's voice softened as he recounted a painful memory.
"I had that experience with Charlie, so I was more or less prepared. But for Sam, it was the first time, and I still remember her face when Grace told her she hated her," he admitted, his voice filled with sadness.
"She spent almost an entire day crying, telling me she wasn't a good mother. And she was a terrific mother. Like I'm sure you would be if you had a son or daughter of your own," he added gently, his words meant to offer solace.
Sam gripped the bedsheets tightly, her façade crumbling under the weight of her emotions.
"Can you leave? Now!" she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion.
Jack nodded slowly, his heart heavy with regret.
"Sure," he replied softly, moving toward the door. "And I know you're in a dark place, Carter. But I know you can get out. And when you do, I'll be waiting for you—me and Grace," he promised, his words filled with unwavering support.
"LEAVE!" Sam cried out, her voice cracking with anguish.
Jack swallowed hard, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, before quietly exiting the room and closing the door behind him.
Alone once more, Sam let the tears fall freely, her gaze fixed on the closed door as she grappled with the turmoil inside her.