After leaving the restaurant and Cassie behind, Sam hadn't returned to her hotel room. She needed some time alone, so she wandered the streets, unsure where she was headed. She just needed to calm down. As she strolled through the City of Brotherly Love, as she'd heard it called, she couldn't shake the feeling that Cassie was like hers, yet also very different. Maybe it was because they were both so guarded, their defenses always up. Or perhaps they were inherently different, much like she and the late Samantha Carter had been.
Lost in her thoughts, Sam accidentally bumped into a passing man, who grumbled under his breath. Quickly apologizing for her distraction, she decided to sit on a nearby bench to avoid further collisions. She was preoccupied, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
Sam clasped her hands together, her mind drifting through the tumultuous events she'd experienced since arriving in this alternate reality. Discovering her own death here had been a surreal shock; learning about her counterpart's life with Jack and their daughter Grace had been bittersweet. The alternate Sam had chosen family over career and found happiness in it, starkly contrasting the path Sam had taken in her reality.
In this reality, Jack's reminders that she wasn't his wife and Grace's endearing yet unsettling habit of calling her 'Mom' stirred a mix of emotions within her. Then there was the unexpected intimacy she'd shared with Jack, fulfilling her most secret desire yet clouded by his declaration of love and farewells to his wife. Did she dare believe him, or was she merely a temporary substitute?
Despite longing to trust him, her analytical mind couldn't dismiss the possibility that she was just a convenient replacement. And then there was the complication of her own Jack O'Neill's surprising visit to this reality, a disruption she hadn't anticipated. Sam sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her predicament.
"Fucking hell," she muttered under her breath, frustrated by the tangled web of emotions and uncertainties she found herself in.
She had hoped they wouldn't unravel the truth, but they had, though thankfully, that issue seemed resolved now. She knew this Jack had ordered the Stargate to remain sealed to her old reality, ensuring they wouldn't cross paths again.
Gazing up at the clear blue sky, Sam took several deep breaths, steeling herself to return to the hotel. Jack was probably worried about her whereabouts, and they had a flight back to D.C. to catch. It was time to face whatever awaited them there.
After bidding Cassie goodbye, Jack returned to their hotel room only to find it empty. He tried calling Sam's cell phone, but there was no answer, suggesting it was either off or out of range. Deciding to make the most of the time, he began packing and organizing their belongings, waiting for her to return.
One hour later, the door creaked open, and Sam entered. Jack glanced up from where he was seated on one of the chairs in the room.
"Nice walk?" he asked casually.
Sam removed her sunglasses and sighed, sinking onto the bed.
"I needed to clear my head," she replied.
"And did you?" Jack inquired, his tone gentle.
Sam hesitated, her gaze falling to her sneakers. "Sort of," she murmured, lacking conviction.
Jack cleared his throat, then relayed Cassie's message about keeping in touch via email if she wanted. Sam half-smiled in response, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in her reaction that Jack couldn't ignore.
"You don't seem thrilled about it. Would you rather keep your distance from her?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam met his gaze, her expression troubled.
"Honestly, Jack, I don't know. There's so much I'm uncertain about in this life right now," she admitted, vulnerability flickering in her eyes.
Concern etched on his features, Jack moved to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. "Are you talking about us?" he asked softly.
Sam swallowed, meeting his gaze.
"I'm talking about everything since I arrived in this reality, Jack. I'm not even sure if I belong here," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack's alarm was palpable. "What do you mean? What are you saying?" he pressed, gripping her hand tighter.
Sam hesitated, then attempted to deflect the conversation with a smile. "Nothing, really. Just a stressful day," she replied, but Jack wasn't letting it go.
"Don't change the subject. What did you mean by not being sure if you belong in this reality?" he insisted, his tone firm.
Sam gritted her teeth, then faced him squarely.
"Tell me, Jack, when you look at me, do you see your wife or the Samantha Carter who stepped through the Stargate? Or are they the same to you?" she asked bluntly.
Jack opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, struggling for words. Sam's smile was wry.
"Just as I suspected," she said, standing and moving away from him.
"Wait," Jack implored, stepping closer to her.
Sam stared out the window, her expression unreadable.
"Goddamnit, wait," Jack urged, closing the distance between them.
"You see her," Sam stated, her voice devoid of emotion.
Jack shook his head.
"We've discussed this already, and I've been transparent about my experiences at the cabin," he answered earnestly. "I've bid farewell to my wife, Sam, but it isn't straightforward. Our marriage and our daughter—these are parts of my past that I'm grappling with as I try to move forward. When I look at you, I see a Samantha Carter. Sometimes, you evoke memories of my wife, and other times, you're distinctively yourself. That's the reality of it."
Sam's smile was bitter. "Well, at least now I know where I stand," she said, facing the window.
Jack hovered near her but didn't touch her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"For what? For finally telling me the truth?" Sam asked, turning to him. Her eyes were cold, starkly contrasting to the vulnerability she had shown moments ago.
Jack swallowed hard, realizing he had deeply upset her.
"I don't want pretenses of love, Jack. I'm not a teenager. I've spent most of my adult life loving a man I thought loved me back, only to realize he didn't. I nearly married another man who loved me too much, but I couldn't return his feelings. So, honesty would be appreciated even if it's just about sex, even if you're only using me to fill the void left by your deceased wife. But I need to know the truth," she said, her tone cold and unyielding.
Jack swallowed hard, taken aback by her stark words. He had never seen her like this, so raw and direct. He imagined she was like this, speaking to her staff on the Hammond and giving them orders but hardly in her personal life—the cold, professional Colonel Samantha Carter. It made him wonder if this was the Samantha Carter who had crossed into his reality—the one the other O'Neill had described as caring only for herself. Jack bit his lip, grappling with his response.
"I think you're making many assumptions," he said slowly, trying to find the right words.
Sam continued to stare at him, her gaze unwavering.
"And I think we're finally having an honest conversation for the first time since I arrived," she replied, her voice devoid of warmth.
The intensity in her eyes unsettled Jack. He couldn't remember when she had been so distant and guarded. It made him realize how much she had been through, both in this reality and in her own. He took a deep breath and searched for the courage to meet her gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, his voice tinged with regret. "For everything."
"As I said before, you do apologize a lot," she said, although her expression softened slightly.
However, the walls around her remained intact. She nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between them. It was a small step, but perhaps it was the beginning of something real –built on honesty and trust, Jack hoped.
They departed the hotel for the airport in heavy silence. Jack did not attempt conversation, and Sam seemed intent on isolating herself, immediately plugging in her headphones as they boarded. Jack took the hint; now wasn't the time for small talk. It allowed him to reflect on their conversation back in the hotel room.
Sam's words lingered in his mind. Her demand for honesty had struck a chord with him. He had bid farewell to his wife at the cabin, but there were moments when he couldn't help but see her in Sam, especially during their more intimate encounters. It wasn't intentional; it was a subconscious echo of his deep love and connection with his late wife. Jack couldn't simply erase those memories, especially when faced with a woman who bore such a striking resemblance to her. He had to admit that, at times, he was making love to Sam while thinking of his wife. It wasn't fair to either of them, and now that Sam was aware, they needed to address it.
But beyond that, something else Sam had said gnawed at him – her uncertainty about belonging in this reality. Hadn't she crossed over randomly, fleeing from the Lucian Alliance as she claimed? Or was there truth to the other Jack O'Neill's assertion that she had deserted from another reality? Jack realized his mind was becoming a labyrinth of questions and possibilities, each more perplexing than the last. Something deeper at play here demanded his attention and swift action. The stakes were higher than he had initially realized, and Jack knew he needed to unravel this mystery quickly before it spiraled out of control.
They arrived at her house in silence, the tension palpable between them. Jack reached out as they exited the taxi and gently grasped Sam's arm.
"I know things are tense right now, but we need to talk," he said, his car keys dangling from his hand.
Sam swallowed, her gaze dropping for a moment. "Okay. I'll be home. Feel free to call or drop by whenever you want," she offered, her tone softer.
The change in her demeanor took Jack aback. "Uh, okay. Grace is arriving today from camp. I can come by after she's asleep," he suggested.
Sam nodded slowly. "I'll be waiting," she replied.
Jack swallowed again, surprised by her response. He had expected a quick dismissal or perhaps some angry outburst, but her calm acceptance caught him off guard.
"Right, okay," he managed to say.
Sam gave him a fleeting smile before turning to open her front door.
"Say hi to Grace," she added before disappearing inside and closing the door behind her.
Jack stood on the porch momentarily, staring at the closed door, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. Something was off. With a sigh, he climbed into his SUV and drove home, his mind swirling with unanswered questions.
When Jack arrived home, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed Hank Landry's number.
"Hi Hank, sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I need a favor," Jack began.
"Hi, Jack, of course; what do you need?" Hank responded.
Jack took a deep breath.
"This needs to stay strictly between us; for now, it's unofficial. I need you to send me everything you have regarding Colonel Samantha Carter's arrival in our reality and any information on the other Jack O'Neill. I already have her initial debriefing with you and Daniel, but I want access to all records – Stargate logs, computer data, everything related to both of them," Jack explained.
Hank paused momentarily before responding, "Is there a problem, Jack?"
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure yet, Hank. It might be nothing, but I need to be thorough. So, please send all the information to Homeworld tomorrow, addressed only to me. And keep this conversation to yourself. Don't mention it to anyone, okay?" Jack requested firmly.
"Understood, Jack. I'll ensure you get everything we have," Hank assured him.
"Thanks, Hank. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday," Jack said before ending the call.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was time to leave to pick up Grace.
As Jack drove to pick up Grace from camp, his mind remained preoccupied with Sam's unsettling words and their implications. Despite his efforts to focus, his thoughts drifted back to the enigma surrounding her arrival and her doubts about belonging in their reality. Lost in his musings, he barely noticed the passing scenery as he pulled up to Grace's school.
"Hey, kiddo!" Jack greeted Grace with a forced smile as she hopped into the passenger seat, her face beaming with excitement.
"Dad, you won't believe how amazing camp was!" Grace exclaimed, bubbling over with enthusiasm. We went hiking and swimming and even made s'mores around the campfire!"
"That sounds fantastic, honey," Jack replied, his attention divided between the road and his daughter's animated storytelling.
"And guess what? I made many new friends, and we promised to keep in touch!" Grace continued, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's great, sweetheart," Jack murmured absentmindedly, his thoughts still elsewhere.
Grace noticed her father's distracted demeanor and furrowed her brow. "Dad, are you okay? You seem kinda... distant," she observed, concern lacing her voice.
Jack blinked, torn from his reverie by his daughter's question. "Oh, sorry, kiddo, just got a lot on my mind," he replied, offering her a small, apologetic smile.
"Is everything okay?" Grace pressed, her worry deepening.
Jack hesitated, debating how much to share with his daughter. "Yeah, everything's fine, just some grown-up stuff I need to sort out," he reassured her, reaching over to tousle her hair affectionately.
Grace studied him momentarily, her intuition sensing there was more to his troubles than he let on. "Was the trip to Philadelphia good?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Jack's heart tightened at the question, but he forced a smile.
"It was. Carter and Cassie met, and they are going to keep in contact. By email," he replied, hoping to convey a sense of positivity.
Grace's smile mirrored his own.
"That's good, isn't it? Mom loved Cassie, and I'm sure Sam also loves Cassie, even if she's not her Cassie," she said slowly, her words tinged with understanding.
Jack swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Grace's insight.
"I'm sure she does," he affirmed, though his own doubts lingered. The meeting hadn't shown evidence of such a bond, but perhaps it was a matter of time. They were both understandably nervous, after all.
As they continued their drive home, Grace resumed recounting her camp adventures, her chatter filling the car with youthful energy. Despite his lingering concerns, Jack couldn't help but be drawn into her infectious enthusiasm, grateful for the brief respite from his worries that her presence provided.
As Grace settled in after her shower and changed into fresh clothes, Jack busied himself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He glanced over at his daughter, noticing the fatigue in her demeanor. It was clear she would be heading to bed early tonight, likely needing a good night's rest after her exciting weekend at camp.
After they finished dinner, Grace announced that she was heading to bed, her fatigue evident as she struggled to open her eyes. Jack quietly tucked her in, ensuring she was comfortable before bidding her goodnight. He lingered momentarily, watching over her as she drifted to sleep before quietly slipping out of her room.
Once Grace was sound asleep, Jack called Pauline and asked if she could come for the night. He was willing to pay extra for her stay. Pauline agreed, and since she didn't live very far, she would be at his house in a few minutes.
When she arrived, Jack informed her that he didn't anticipate being away for too long, but there was a possibility she might have to stay the entire night.
"It's okay, General. I have to review some subjects for my exam, and the extra money helps," she said, settling down on the couch with her books.
Jack nodded and left the house. Before departing, he sent a text message to Sam, informing her of his imminent arrival. Her response was a simple "ok," confirming her readiness to meet him. Jack parked his car on her street and approached her door, opting to knock this time rather than ringing the doorbell. To his surprise, she opened the door almost immediately, as if she had been expecting him.
"Hey," Jack greeted with a faint smile as he stepped inside.
"Hi," Sam replied, allowing him entry.
As they made their way to the living room, Sam inquired about Grace.
"Is Grace okay?" she asked, concern lacing her tone.
"Yeah, she's sound asleep. The camp wore her out," Jack reassured her as he settled onto the couch.
He noticed that Sam had her laptop open and appeared to be working. She discreetly closed it and joined him on the couch.
"All right, so we need to talk," she stated, crossing her legs.
Jack swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of the impending conversation. Sam wore a short pink T-shirt that revealed her belly button and black sweatpants. As always, she was barefoot, adding to the casual atmosphere of their meeting. He almost smiled when he noticed her pink toenails, a detail he had missed at the hotel.
"I believe we need to address something important," Jack began, confronting the issue head-on. "You are concerned that I'm not being entirely truthful about my feelings towards you and my late wife."
Sam offered a half-smile, her demeanor surprisingly calm.
"Like I said before, it's something that I don't blame you for struggling to figure out. I just wanted some clarification, Jack. Your wife died, you loved her very much, probably still do, and suddenly, I show up from another reality. It must be confusing, to say the least," she said, her tone measured.
Jack nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's been difficult," he admitted, his gaze meeting hers.
Sam took a deep breath, her hand resting gently on his. "Look," she started, "I've been thinking since we left Philadelphia, maybe it's better if we take a step back," she suggested slowly.
Jack raised both eyebrows, his curiosity piqued. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Sam noticed his wedding ring was missing and ran her fingers over his bare finger. "We're both struggling with the emotions involved in our situation," she explained, but Jack immediately interrupted her.
"Situation? Is that how you see what we have? A mere situation? Wow!" Jack's surprise and shock were evident in his tone.
Sam blushed, feeling the weight of her words.
"Okay, perhaps not a situation, but it's not quite a relationship, Jack. I mean, can we call it that?" Her voice had a subtle hint of annoyance.
Jack observed how quickly she shifted between calmness and irritation, especially when their views clashed. He was becoming more attuned to her nuances.
"All right, I don't want to argue," he interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.
Sam swallowed, her expression softening.
"Me neither. So, as I was saying, emotions seem to be our major hurdle. I want something you're not ready to give, and you... well, you seem to prefer avoiding any waves," she explained.
Jack blinked, processing her words.
"Excuse me?" he questioned, puzzled by her accusation.
"I'm trying to be completely honest here, Jack," Sam replied slowly, her tone serious.
"And what exactly does that mean?" Jack inquired, withdrawing his hand from hers.
Sam's expression hardened.
"All right, I'll be more direct then. You seem perfectly fine having sex with me as long as I don't ask the tough questions like I did before or in Philly. Do you understand now?" she challenged.
Jack struggled to respond. "Is that truly what you think?" he asked, his voice measured.
Sam nodded firmly. Jack ran his hands through his hair, at a loss for words.
"Wow. You've stumped me. I don't have an answer to that. Wow," he admitted, still processing her accusation.
Sam remained composed, her gaze steady on him.
Jack swallowed hard, his mind racing to process the weight of their conversation and Sam's straightforward words.
"So, if I understand correctly, you're suggesting that as long as we avoid discussing emotions and stick to sex, everything should be fine?" he sought clarification, his tone uncertain.
Sam blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
"It's not that simple, Jack. We're not in that kind of arrangement. You're not a gigolo, and I'm certainly not a hooker. But you got my point," she clarified, her tone firm yet tinged with a hint of resignation.
Jack's mouth fell open in disbelief.
"Did you just imply I'm a gigolo?" he blurted out, eyes widening in shock.
Sam rolled her eyes, her annoyance evident.
"For heaven's sake, Jack, pay attention. I said the exact opposite," she corrected sharply.
Clearing his throat, Jack admitted, "I'm not accustomed to these conversations. I feel a bit out of my depth here."
"We both are, Jack. That's precisely why this is so challenging," Sam sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands.
Feeling overwhelmed, Jack rose to his feet, pacing around the living room.
"I need a moment to gather my thoughts. My mind's a mess," he confessed.
Sam sighed, understanding his need for space. "We don't have to resolve everything today," she offered.
Jack stopped abruptly, determination in his eyes. "No, we're not putting this off any longer. I'm tired of the back-and-forth, tired of these mind games," he asserted firmly.
Confusion flickered in Sam's eyes.
"Mind games? What do you mean?" Her voice oscillated between softness and ice.
Realizing his misstep, Jack backpedaled slightly.
"It's just a figure of speech," he mumbled, though Sam's keen observation had already raised alarms.
Sam got to her feet, deciding to push forward, meeting Jack eye to eye.
"Fine. If you want to address this today, let's do it," she agreed resolutely.
Jack stopped mid-pace, startled by her sudden shift in demeanor.
She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.
"What are you doing?" Jack asked slowly, his eyes widening with surprise.
"I'm addressing the subject," she murmured, kissing him. Her lips met his, her fingers tangling in his neck's hair as she sought to deepen the connection.
Jack hesitated, his eyes still open, assessing her. Sensing his hesitation, she pressed closer to his, intensifying the kiss. Jack closed his eyes as he felt her tongue becoming more insistent. Succumbing to the moment, he reciprocated, pulling her closer.
Without delving into discussions of emotions or sentiments, they gravitated towards her bedroom. There, they yielded to their desires, shedding all other concerns as they immersed themselves in each other. They had sex, pure and simple.