Summary:

"He takes a deep breath. 'You got hurt again,' he mumbles. 'Except, this time…'

'This time what?'

Jonas squeezes his eyes shut. 'This time I think you died.'"

OR

Present-Day AU. A malfunctioning time travel device and a harrowing mission force Sam and Jonas to finally confront what happened in Florida. But they're running out of time to clear the air before Jonas' latest vision comes true - a vision of Sam's impending death. Sequel to "band-aids don't fix bullet holes."

A/N: Hello again! I've been very excited to post this next chapter since it's my favorite of what I've written so far. We're getting to the emotional "meat" of the story now, so there's going to be a lot of emphasis on character work for at least the next couple of chapters (but don't worry, I haven't forgotten that there is technically a plot 😂). Get ready for an abundance of angst and fluff in equal measure 😊 Anyway, before I leave you to read, I do want to let you all know that for the chapters that will contain content/trigger warnings, I'm going to list out beforehand what will appear in each so everyone is aware. Other than that, I don't have anything else to add right now, so again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER
-strong language
-implied past relationship abuse
-slight reference to a trauma reaction/panic attack

Chapter 3: i can hear the ghosts calling

Sam has a strict rule about keeping work and weekends separate. This wasn't always the case, but ever since Jonas' workaholic tendencies started to make her look normal by comparison, she realized that setting the boundary was probably a necessity. Without it, she figures he'd work himself to death, maybe literally. If not that, at the very least he'd worry himself to death.

The latter, of course, is the last thing he needs right now. So when Friday evening rolls around, she suggests they go out and let off some steam.

"Go out where?" Jonas asks as they head towards the locker rooms. He's tossing a small slinky back and forth between his hands while he walks.

"Anywhere," Sam says. "Just to relax. Or do something fun."

He makes a face. "I dunno, Sam. It's been a long week."

"Which is exactly my point," she argues. "You need some distraction."

Jonas sighs. "I guess," he mutters. "But to be honest, I'm kind of tired."

Sam holds back a sigh of her own. That's his go-to excuse whenever he wants to self-isolate, which she's sure isn't the best idea for him right now. "We don't have to do anything too crazy," she says. "Dinner, maybe a movie?"

He shrugs. "I dunno."

She frowns, wracking her brain for something he might agree to. "How about we just go to the park?" she suggests. "You know, the one that does Food Truck Fridays?"

Jonas' expression doesn't change, but she can see his eyes light up regardless. "Okay," he mumbles. "I guess that's fine."

"Great," she says, flashing him a smile. "I'll meet you at the elevator when you're done changing."

He nods, heading into the men's locker room without another word.

Sam is grateful that Jonas' favorite falafel truck is at the park this week. Although he's still quieter than usual, his mood seems to lighten once they've bought dinner. Sam finds them a spot at a nearby picnic table to eat, a little ways away from the playground.

"So, watched anything interesting lately?"

Jonas shrugs, focusing on his food. "Not really. Kind of in between shows right now."

Sam offers him a smile. "I found a new documentary on sea otters the other day. I think you'd like it."

She's relieved when he smiles back. "Well, they are my favorite animals."

Her smile widens. "We could go back to my place and watch it after this."

Jonas nods. "Okay."

They continue eating in silence. Jonas turns to look at the playground, watching a group of children chase each other on the jungle gym. Sam frowns when she notices his face fall.

"They have no idea," he mumbles.

She sets her food down. "What do you mean?"

He turns back to her, his expression almost pained. "About what's out there."

Sam glances over at the playground. The kids are now running across the gravel, squealing and laughing as they make their way to the swings.

"Maybe it's better that way," she says quietly. "People are scared of what they can't control."

Jonas sighs. "Yeah, I guess," he mutters. "But what if they can control things, and they just don't know how to?"

She looks back at him. Her heart clenches when she sees the weariness in his eyes. "Jonas," she murmurs, "just because you can see the future doesn't mean it's your responsibility to change it."

He frowns. "Isn't it?" he argues. "I mean, why else would I be having these visions?"

It's Sam's turn to sigh this time. "Look, I don't know. Maybe they're just random."

His face twists into a strange grimace and he glances away again. "Dr. Lam doesn't seem to think so."

Sam cocks her head at him. "Why? What did she say?"

Jonas avoids her gaze. "I don't know if I want to talk about it."

She bites her lip, trying not to show her frustration. "Okay," she concedes. "But is she…helping you at all?"

He finally looks at her then. "I guess."

"That's a pretty vague answer."

"Well, I've only seen her once."

Sam detects an edge to his voice, so she decides to let the matter drop. "Look, talking in circles about this isn't going to do anything," she says. "Let's just head back to my place, watch a movie, and act like we live normal lives for awhile?"

Jonas looks as if he wants to protest, but he agrees anyway. "All right," he sighs. "I guess it can't hurt."

He cheers up a little during the movie. Sea otters always have that effect on him. By the time the credits start to roll, there's a smile on his face and popcorn in his lap, and Sam can't help but feel somewhat at ease. She knows the reprieve won't last long, but at least some of the tension is gone for now.

"What'd you think?" she asks.

Jonas shifts beneath the blanket draped over their legs. "It was great," he answers, his eyes sparkling for the first time in awhile.

"I knew you'd like it," Sam says, smiling back at him. "You know, one of these days we should take a trip to the Georgia Aquarium and do the sea otter encounter. You'd get to meet one."

His face lights up. "Really?"

She laughs. "Yeah," she replies. "You can't pet it but they let you go behind the scenes and see how the caretakers work with them."

Jonas is brimming with glee now. "That's awesome!" he exclaims. "Put it on the calendar."

Sam laughs again, grateful that he's seemingly forgotten to bemoan her impending death. "Okay," she says. "Will do."

Jonas reaches over and brushes some popcorn kernels off her shoulder. "We kind of made a mess."

She nods at the kernels scattered across his lap. "Yeah," she agrees. "We'd better clean up before Schrödinger tries to grab a snack."

As if on cue, Schrödinger appears, trotting into the living room and jumping onto Jonas' lap.

"Schrödie, no," Sam scolds. "No popcorn for you."

"Mrrooow," Schrödinger protests as Jonas scoops him up and hands him to her.

"Thanks," she says, feigning a scowl at the disgruntled cat. "Naughty kitty."

"Woaw," Schrödinger yowls.

"No, no," Sam continues, standing up and carrying him to the cat tree next to the TV. "You know you can't have people treats."

Schrödinger cries again but crawls into his hidey hole anyway. Sam digs through her dress pocket and pulls out a few catnip nuggets. "Here," she says sweetly, offering them to him. "But that's all for tonight."

She returns to help Jonas tidy the couch while Schrödinger munches on his treats. "You know, he reminds me of you," she quips. "Same appetite."

Jonas makes a face. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

Sam chuckles. "A compliment, definitely. Of the highest order."

He narrows his eyes at her. "Right."

"You know I hold my cat in very high regard."

Jonas cracks a smile and shakes his head. "Fine, it's a compliment then."

She grins and retreats into the hallway to grab a broom from the closet. When they're finally finished cleaning, Jonas checks his watch. "I should probably head out."

"Okay," Sam says. "I can drop you at home."

"Nah, that's okay. It's getting late. I can just Uber."

Sam eyes him for a moment. Her stomach suddenly lurches at the idea of him spending the night alone. What if he has another vision? Or what if he stays up until an ungodly hour wrestling with his demons? Of course he could just call or text if there's a problem, but she knows he won't want to bother her. Not with this.

"You could stay," she blurts out.

Jonas blinks in surprise. "What, you mean like…sleep over?"

Sam nods before she has a chance to backtrack. "You can use the guest bedroom. And I've got a spare toothbrush."

He frowns, considering the offer. "I don't wanna impose."

"You're not," she insists. "I just…" She trails off, unsure of whether or not to be honest with him.

Jonas tilts his head. "You just what?"

Sam sighs, deciding that she might as well tell him the truth. "I just don't want you to be alone," she admits. "Not with everything that's going on right now."

His face softens. "Sam, I'll be okay."

She takes a breath. "Will you?"

Jonas meets her eyes, no doubt reading the concern in her expression. "All right," he concedes. "If you're really that worried, I can stay. Just as long as I'm not causing you any trouble."

Her body relaxes. "You're not," she says. "Really."

"You're sure?"

"Jonas."

"Okay, okay." He lifts his hands in defeat. "Lead the way."

Sam shows him the guest bedroom and then fetches him an oversized T-shirt that she usually uses for housework. "You can wear this," she explains. "It should fit."

"Okay," he says, taking it from her hands. "Thanks."

"The extra toiletries and stuff should be in the cabinet in the hall bathroom."

Jonas nods. "Okay," he repeats.

She waves at the shirt. "I'll, uh, leave you to - "

"Right."

Sam heads to her own room to change and emerges a few minutes later to find Jonas standing awkwardly in the living room. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "Um, so…"

She wraps her arms around herself, feeling suddenly shy. "If you need anything from the kitchen, feel free to poke around."

"Okay."

They stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

Thankfully, Schrödinger interrupts by leaping out of his cat tree and padding over to where Jonas is standing. He lets out an affectionate purr and begins weaving in between Jonas' legs.

Jonas crouches down and scratches his head. "Hey, buddy," he coos.

Warmth blossoms in Sam's chest. "He's happy you're staying over."

"You think so?"

She steps forward, smiling. "Oh yeah. He loves you."

"Eh," Jonas says, patting Schrödinger's belly when he flops onto his side. "Not as much as you."

Sam crouches down next to them. "I wouldn't be so sure," she laughs. "You've seen the way he tries to block the front door when it's time for you to leave."

Jonas chuckles. "True," he agrees. "But you're still his mom." He makes a silly face at Schrödinger. "Isn't that right, Schrödie? Do you love your mama?"

"Mrrap!" Schrödinger chirps.

They both laugh then.

When their laughter subsides, Jonas looks her in the eye. "Thank you," he says softly. "For looking out for me."

For some reason, Sam's cheeks flush. "It's nothing," she murmurs. "I'm just concerned about you."

"I know," Jonas sighs. "I'm sorry this is stressing you out."

She shakes her head. "Don't be. None of this is your fault."

Jonas looks like he wants to argue, but he keeps his mouth shut and rises to his feet instead. Sam follows suit.

"Well, um, goodnight," she mumbles.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Goodnight."

After a beat, he turns and walks back to the guest room. Sam watches him go, feeling a strange ache gnaw at her chest. It's only when she hears the door close that she realizes it's longing - the same kind she felt when they returned from Florida, right before they started talking again.

Schrödinger headbutts her ankles, freeing her from her reverie. She reaches down and picks him up. "What am I gonna do, Schrödie?" she sighs, scratching him beneath his chin. "I thought we had this figured out."

Schrödinger looks up at her, the expression on his face far more human than catlike. Silly Sam, it seems to say. You should tell him how you feel.

"I don't know what I feel," she mutters, more to herself than to him.

Schrödinger blinks at her. Yes, you do, his eyes convey. You're just too scared to say it.

Sam lets out another sigh. Maybe you're right, she thinks as she heads towards her room. Maybe I am.

She wakes up in the hotel bed.

Well, she's not really awake. Part of her mind is aware that this is a dream and that she's not actually back on assignment in Florida. But the vividness of her surroundings startles her nonetheless. It feels real. Almost.

Sam slips out from underneath the covers and tiptoes out of the bedroom. The lights in the living area are switched on, but it's empty, as is the kitchenette beside it. The sliding door to the patio, however, is pushed open, allowing the evening breeze to float in from the darkened pool deck.

"Jonas?" she calls.

No answer. An inexplicable sense of dread seeps into her bones. She takes a deep breath and walks to the patio door. "Jonas?" she calls again.

Still no answer. Sam crosses the threshold and heads towards the pool. It too is empty, its surface eerily still in the glow of the underwater lights.

" 'Bout time you showed up."

The voice sends a chill rippling down her spine, and Sam freezes. She knows that voice. And it's one she never expected to hear again.

Slowly, she turns towards it. When her eyes meet the sight before her, her hands start to shake.

"Miss me?"

Sam inhales, trying to keep her breathing even. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jonas - not her Jonas, but the other one, the dead one - sits up in one of the pool chairs. "Come on," he drawls. "Is that any way to greet your fiancé?"

"Ex," she spits, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Jonas Hanson, somehow looking very much alive, shrugs and grabs a beer can off a nearby table. "Semantics," he counters.

Sam bites back the instinct to fight with him. He'd always pull shit like this, purposely trying to provoke her into an argument. She isn't going to fall for it this time. "I'll ask you again," she snaps,"what the hell are you doing here?"

Hanson takes a swig of his beer and shrugs again. "Fuck if I know," he mutters. "It's your dream."

A wave of panic overtakes her. Please wake up, please wake up, she begs. But for whatever reason, her mind refuses to listen.

"How's my doppelganger?"

She glares at him. "He's not your anything."

Hanson huffs in amusement. "Fine," he concedes. "How's the boy toy, then?"

Sam grits her teeth, battling the urge to punch him in the face. "Still more of a man than you ever were," she hisses. "Thanks for asking."

She relishes the swell of satisfaction at the jealousy that flickers in his eyes. "That's interesting," he grunts, staring coldly at her.

"What is?"

Hanson leans back in the chair again. "That you put him on such a pedestal," he says. "Yet you still insist on keeping him at arm's length."

Sam swallows. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's funny, you know," he continues as if she hasn't spoken. "I think you've done that before. The pedestal thing, I mean." He pauses, allowing a smirk to worm its way across his face. "Is General O'Neill enjoying Washington?"

That does it. "Get out," she growls, jabbing her finger at the patio door.

"I'm in your head," he scoffs. "I can't really go anywhere."

WAKE UP! she pleads again. Still, her mind refuses to obey.

"I should apologize, you know," Hanson goes on.

Sam lets out a hollow laugh. "Well, that's new."

He ignores her. "I've been dead for years, but I'm still always getting in the way."

She crosses her arms. "In the way of what?"

Hanson glances at the pool. "I think you know."

Sam curses the heat that floods into her cheeks. She can't see the memory flashing before her eyes, but she can feel its echo closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own regret.

"As usual," she chokes out, "you think too much of yourself."

"Do I?" he says, frowning at her. "If I recall correctly, I'm the reason nothing ever works out for you. Even that Pete guy."

"Pete was too much like you."

He smirks again. "Exactly."

Sam drops her arms. "Look, Jonas," she mutters, "what the fuck do you want?"

"Want?" he echoes. "I don't want anything. I'm only here because you still can't let me go."

She laughs again. "Oh, I assure you, I dropped your sorry ass a long time ago."

"Oh, but did you?" Hanson challenges, leaning forward. "If that's the case, then why do you run whenever you get close to someone?"

Sam decides she's had enough. "If you don't get the fuck out of my head right now," she snarls, "I'm going to throw you into this damn pool."

"You think that's going to get rid of me?"

"I don't know. But I'm willing to find out."

"Fine," he growls, springing to his feet. "Go ahead and do it."

Sam hesitates, suddenly terrified of moving closer.

Hanson steps towards her, causing her to flinch. "Go on," he says, his voice low. "Toss me in."

Sam takes a ragged breath, feeling tears pricking at her eyelids. He's within her reach. She could do it if she wants to.

But she realizes with sudden clarity that she doesn't want to. "No," she says, lifting her chin in defiance. "I don't think I will."

He scowls at her. "Why not?"

Sam squares her shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. "Because," she replies, "you're not worth it."

She takes another breath.

"You never fucking were."

And with that, she spins on her heel and marches back inside the hotel.

She wakes up - for real this time - in a cold sweat. For one disorienting moment, she swears she can hear her heart hammering against her ribs.

Until she realizes that the hammering isn't hammering at all. It's knocking.

"Sam?"

A surge of relief rushes into her veins. It's not him. She's not trapped in that godforsaken nightmare anymore. "Jonas?"

Her bedroom door creaks open as Jonas - her Jonas - pokes his head in. "Are you okay?"

Schrödinger, having sensed her distress, chooses that moment to plop himself down atop her chest. Sam gently moves him aside as she straightens up against the pillows. "Yeah," she croaks. "Why do you ask?"

Jonas leans on the door frame. "I woke up to get a drink of water and heard you talking in your sleep."

Sam blushes, although she's sure he can't see in the dark. "Oh," she says. "No, I'm all right. It was just a weird dream."

He takes a breath. "Okay." He pauses. "You sure?"

She considers lying again, but something inside her convinces her not to. "Actually," she admits, "I don't really know."

"Oh."

"Are you sleeping okay?"

Jonas sighs. "To be honest, not really."

"I see."

Silence settles on them as they stare into the darkness. At last, Jonas clears his throat. "Well, um, I'm sorry I bothered you," he says. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

He begins to retreat from the doorway, but that gnawing ache from earlier suddenly rears its head. "Wait!" Sam calls.

Jonas pokes his head back in. "Yeah?"

She swallows. "Do you…do you want to stay?"

Even in the dark, she can see him frown. "I'm already staying over."

"No, I mean…" She inhales. "In here?"

Jonas' body goes rigid. "I..um..I probably shouldn't."

"But do you think it would help?"

Sam watches his chest rise and fall as he takes another breath. "Would it help you?"

She feels herself nodding before she has a chance to stop herself. "Yeah," she murmurs. "Yeah, I think it would."

Jonas slips into the room. "You're sure?"

Her dream flashes through her mind, and a lump starts to form in her throat. "Yeah," she repeats.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping when he comes up beside it. Sam looks up, mapping out what she can see of his face in the dark. His brows are creased, his expression uncertain.

"It's okay," she whispers.

Jonas bends down and cautiously crawls under the covers. Sam scoots over to give him more room. Schrödinger, surprised yet pleased at the new arrival, clambers across the bed and curls up next to Jonas' legs.

"See," she says, trying to break the tension, "I told you he loves you more than me."

Jonas laughs softly, relaxing a little. "He does not. I probably just give off more body heat."

Sam shrugs, then rolls over onto her side to face him. Jonas follows her lead, but he frowns again when she meets his eyes.

"What?" she asks.

"You're crying."

Sam lifts a hand to her face. Her fingers come away wet. "Oh," is all she can say.

Jonas reaches out and brushes away a stray tear. Against her better judgment, she leans into his touch. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks. "The dream, I mean."

Sam isn't sure. All she knows is that Jonas' presence is like an invisible thread tethering her to safety. "I don't know," she murmurs.

Jonas wipes away another tear. "How can I help then?"

Sam knows she shouldn't, but she asks anyway. "Could you just…hold me for a bit?"

He freezes, once again looking unsure of himself. But something in her expression must cause him to crack. "Okay," he agrees.

Jonas wraps his arms around her, drawing her into his chest. She pillows her head against his shoulder. His body is warm, his grip firm, and she can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm. The rhythm soothes her, and her eyes flutter closed.

"Thank you," she whispers.

He runs his fingers along her spine. "You're welcome."

They lie like that for several minutes, Sam listening to his heartbeat and Jonas gently rubbing her back. After awhile, she decides to speak again.

"I saw him," she says quietly.

Jonas pulls back to look at her. "Who?"

Sam takes a shaky breath. "The other one."

"The other wh - oh." His eyes soften with pity. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

He cups her face and strokes her cheek with his thumb. The gesture is so tender it makes her eyes well up with tears again.

"Don't cry," Jonas murmurs. "I hate seeing you cry."

Sam sniffles, recalling the Pete fiasco. She knew back then that Jonas didn't like him, but it took a little while before the pieces fell into place for her. When she finally realized that Pete was just a poor copy of Hanson, she ended up spending a long night in Jonas' old room at the SGC, drowning in a sea of crumpled tissues and venting rather loudly about how stupid she was for agreeing to go out with him. Jonas didn't know about her engagement to Hanson then, but he listened patiently to her rant past midnight while she blubbered like a baby and cursed into a cup of blue jello. Jonas didn't mind her ranting, but he did mind the fact that Pete had made her cry. That upset him far more than the snotty mess she left on his bed, or the fact that she kept him up until 2 AM on a Tuesday.

"I'm sorry," she chokes, blinking the tears away. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Jonas shakes his head. "Don't apologize," he whispers. "I just don't like seeing you so upset."

"I know."

He leans his forehead against hers. "He's gone," Jonas says softly, still stroking her cheek. "He can't hurt you anymore."

Sam thinks back to what dream Hanson said about getting in the way, and she wonders if, even in death, his memory is still pulling the strings.

"Maybe," is all she manages to say.

Jonas shifts closer. His nose nudges hers, and oh god she just wants to kiss him again and lose herself in him the way she did in Florida. But she knows that would lead to yet another compromising situation and its inevitable aftermath, so she forces herself to stay still. One disastrous conversation about their admittedly confusing relationship was enough.

"I'm just so tired," she sighs.

He moves his head so that his cheek is resting against hers. "I know," he whispers into her ear.

Sam swallows back another wave of tears. "I'm scared to go back to sleep."

Jonas turns and buries his face in the crook of her neck. "Don't be," he murmurs, his lips brushing her skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

She shivers, lifting a hand to stroke his hair. "You promise?"

He nods. "As long as you want me here, I'll stay."

Sam shuts her eyes again. "Thank you."

His arm tightens around her waist. "Don't mention it," he says, pulling her towards him. "No matter what happens, I'll be here whenever you need me."

She relaxes into his embrace, resting in the comfort of his words.

The echo of his heartbeat is the last thing she hears before she finally drifts off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

A/N: The title of this chapter is taken from the lyrics of "Hold My Hand" by The Fray.

For some reason I get the feeling that Jonas would be a HUGE fan of sea otters (because why not, they're cute and and cuddly-looking, just like him lol). I thought it would be an adorable little detail to add in. Also, in general, I think he'd have a fascination with/affinity for Earth animals and be very interested in learning about them.

On that note, as a cat person, I absolutely LOVED writing for Schrödinger, especially the bits between him and Jonas. Since animals tend to be great judges of character, I think he would've taken an immediate liking to Jonas and "adopted" him as his new favorite person ❤️

The dream sequence with Jonas Hanson was actually my favorite part of this chapter to write, I think at least in part because it allowed me to explore the inner workings of Sam's mind (quite literally) and delve into her emotional state beyond simply stating or implying it. While writing it I wasn't sure how I was going to end it, but I ultimately thought the most fitting conclusion would be her gaining the strength to stand her ground instead of letting him control the narrative. She still has a lot of healing to do, but I wanted a moment where she was able to empower herself to stand up to him.

Originally I was going to have Jonas have a nightmare and Sam comfort him afterwards. But since I've already written so much of Sam playing caretaker, I wanted to reverse the roles and have Jonas comfort her instead in a moment of vulnerability. As much as I love badass Sam, I do like exploring that more vulnerable side of her and giving her a chance to be taken care of for a change.

And yes, as promised, the Pete discourse continues 😂 In all seriousness, though, I wanted to link that experience to Sam's earlier engagement since the parallels aren't something that get discussed very often, at least not as far as I've seen. I also wanted to write a bit more about Jonas' reaction to that relationship, since I think even in the canon timeline (assuming he'd stayed on the show) he wouldn't have been a fan of it or of the way Pete treated Sam.