Jack cursed and closed his laptop when she abruptly left. He hadn't meant to bring up the engagement or the stupid cop, but the words had just come out before he knew it. Now she was angry with him, and he couldn't get up and go after her and try to apologize or something. He sighed heavily, realizing that this situation had all the ingredients to become a disaster.
It was a complete mess.
Especially if he continued with his big mouth, hurting her even more. He placed the laptop on the table next to the armchair and attempted to move his stiff legs. They refused to cooperate, reminding him of his vulnerability in more ways than one.
He struggled with his thoughts when he heard loud sounds from the kitchen. Was she destroying his kitchen in retaliation?
"Carter, is everything okay?" he called out, his voice carrying over the noise.
There was no response at first, but then the noise abruptly ceased. A moment later, his phone beeped with a text message. It was from her.
"Dinner is served in the kitchen. Figure out the rest. SC," the message read.
Jack stared at the screen, feeling a pang of guilt. She was upset, and he had only added to her frustration.
With a heavy sigh, he typed out a reply. "Not hungry. Enjoy. JON."
Just as he finished sending the message, he saw her passing by in the hallway, heading upstairs. The sound of her bedroom door closing echoed through the house. It seemed she wasn't planning to have dinner either. Jack shook his head, realizing that things were off to a rocky start.
Jack managed to navigate the bathroom alone, though he almost slipped on the floor. He sighed with relief when he finally returned to bed, feeling utterly exhausted. Collapsing onto the mattress, he took the prescribed pills and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to come quickly. Fortunately, fatigue overtook him, and he drifted off without realizing when Sam came down in the middle of the night to check on him.
Unaware of her presence, Jack slept soundly through the night. Meanwhile, Sam couldn't find peace even as she lay in bed. Her mind was too consumed with thoughts and emotions, preventing her from seeing any rest. She listened intently to every sound the house made, her heart heavy with the pain of the situation.
Sam forced herself to shower as the first rays of sunshine filtered into her bedroom, hoping to clear her mind. She knew she needed some time away from Jack, and with any luck, Colonel Adams would show up soon to provide her with a much-needed break. After the previous night's events, she was adamant about not staying in the house any longer than necessary. He had said two days and two days would be, not a second more.
She was done with him.
Sam stepped into the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the coffee maker. She began the familiar routine of brewing coffee, hoping the mundane task would help steady her nerves. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she should be making tea instead—he didn't care for tea, and maybe it would send a message. But no, she couldn't bring herself to do that, not even in her frustration or after everything he had said and done.
No matter how angry she was with him, hurting him intentionally wasn't in her, not after Pete. That whole disaster had left her feeling guilty enough to last a lifetime. She had watched the fallout from that failed engagement wound everyone around her, especially him. The thought of causing any more pain, even in the smallest of ways, made her heart clench. She couldn't take another round of regret after all the damage she had already done.
She glimpsed a black SUV parked outside from the window, likely belonging to the security detail. As the coffee brewed, she retrieved a mug from the cupboard and toasted some bread. Placing everything on a tray she found, she made her way to the bedroom, pushing aside thoughts of yesterday's events.
Upon entering, Sam noticed the bathroom door closed. Suppressing a sigh, she left the tray on the bed, wanting to give Jack space. It was easier this way.
When Jack emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaved, and saw the tray with breakfast, guilt washed over him again. He had mentally prepared for another day without food, yet Sam had brought him coffee and toast. Sinking onto the bed, he began to sip the coffee slowly.
Suddenly, the ringtone of Sam's phone pierced the air. Cursing under her breath, she realized it must be the doctor. Setting her mug down, she answered. Despite the perfect opportunity to end Jack's charade and send him back to the hospital, Sam assured Susan that the General had a good night, ate well, and even did some work before sleeping.
All was well.
Closing her eyes after the call, Sam admitted to herself the foolishness of love, feeling its weight press upon her. Resolved to break free, she knew she needed to leave Jack behind and return to her own life, once and for all. It was better for everyone.
"Are you alright, Colonel?" a concerned voice interrupted her.
Sam opened her eyes to find Colonel Adams looking concerned at her.
"Oh... Yes, Sir. Just a bit tired," she confessed, aware of the dark circles under her eyes.
"Trouble sleeping?" he inquired.
"New bed," she lied, offering a small smile.
Nodding understandingly, Adams shifted the conversation.
"How's the General?"
"In his room," Sam replied.
"Alright. I'll check on him. If you need some time today, I'll be staying here," Adams offered.
"Thank you, Sir. Yes, I need to go out, if you don't mind," Sam expressed her gratitude.
"Take your time, Colonel," Adams said, his gaze lingering as Sam busied herself at the sink. Watching her leave with renewed determination, he resolved to visit the General, wondering what had transpired the night before.
Jack was surprised to see Adams so early.
"Adams," he greeted.
"Good morning, General," Adams replied, noticing the empty cup of coffee and crumbs of toast on the tray.
"Where's Carter?" Jack asked casually.
Adams tried not to smile.
"Ah, she left, Sir," he said, picking up the tray and placing it on the dresser.
"Left? Where to?" Jack inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Adams shrugged.
"Don't know, Sir. She just told me she needed to go out," he explained.
Jack sighed. "Right," he muttered.
"How are the legs, Sir?" Adams asked, changing the subject.
Jack patted them. "Still stiff," he admitted.
"Have you been doing the exercises the doctor ordered?" Adams pressed.
Jack rolled his eyes.
"Well, Sir, the sooner you recover your muscle strength, the sooner you'll return to work," Adams reminded him.
Jack nodded. "I know," he acknowledged. "Help me walk a bit," he requested.
Adams provided his steady arm, guiding Jack down the hallway until Jack needed to rest. However, Sam remained absent.
"Did she say when she was coming back?" Jack asked, checking the time.
Adams shook his head. "No, Sir."
Jack picked up his cell and texted her. "Where are you?" He waited, but there was no response.
Eventually, Adams ordered lunch, and they moved to the kitchen—still no sign of Sam as they ate. Jack glanced at his phone again, but she had sent no message. They walked a little more, and Jack eventually settled in the living room. Sam returned home when the night had already fallen. Adams had ordered Chinese for dinner.
"Well, Sir, you have company now, so I'll take my leave," Adams said as Sam entered, standing between the hallway and the living room.
"Colonel Carter," Adams acknowledged as he walked to the front door.
"Thank you, Sir," Sam expressed her gratitude.
"You look much better," Adams observed before leaving.
Sam closed the front door and locked it. Then, sighing, she moved to the living room, where Jack was seated. His expression was less than friendly.
"So, Carter, found a new boyfriend?" he remarked.
Sam closed her eyes briefly before responding. She had some time to herself and managed to rebalance a bit, but to what end?
"No, but since you are determined to bring that up, let's discuss it... Sir," Sam said icily, dropping her purse on the couch more forcefully than needed.
Jack faced her, his expression unreadable.
"Oh, you want to talk about your boyfriends?" he replied, amusement coloring his tone.
Sam crossed her arms.
"No, I don't, but you kept bringing that up. So, you obviously want to speak about that. Very well, what do you want to know, Jack?" she retorted, purposefully using his given name.
Surprised, Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Watch the tone, Colonel," he warned.
Sam smiled bitterly.
"Or what? You'll kick me out of your house? Please do. It would be a favor," she said sincerely.
Jack swallowed, his resolve faltering.
"Where have you been?" he asked, trying to regain control of the conversation.
"None of your business," Sam shot back, her arms defiantly crossed.
Jack frowned.
"You are hardly helping me recover," he pointed out.
Sam bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"Yeah... who said I'm perfect?" she muttered. "Look, Jack, I don't know what happened or why you stopped talking to me, Daniel, or Teal'c. And if you don't want to tell, fine; we move on. But I can't go on like this anymore..." she began, her voice wavering.
Jack continued to look at her in silence.
"If it was because I was engaged to Pete, I understand. I hurt you, and you decided it wasn't worth it. Each of us follows our own path. You could have just told me... that you had moved on. Or maybe you didn't have to. I was expecting too much, and you had every right to... to move away," Sam continued, passing a nervous hand over her hair.
"Having said that, I'll work in Homeworld until I find the leak because the President assigned me there, but I obviously can't stay here. So, I've already found a place to stay. I'll leave tomorrow. You said two days; the deadline is tomorrow," she announced, her voice strained.
Jack had been holding his breath as she spoke.
"Are you done?" he asked finally.
She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.
"You've made a lot of assumptions, Colonel, most of them untrue, but I'll let them pass for now as you appear to be in a state where a conversation wouldn't be productive. You also seem confused regarding several things about me, and I won't bother clarifying them either. After all these years, you should know them by now, and if you don't, well, it's because you've never truly known me at all," Jack said in a cold tone.
Sam stared at him, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.
"You... you fucking asshole," she choked out before turning and leaving without another word.
Jack's frustration boiled over, and he grabbed the first thing he could find, hurling it against the wall with a loud crash.
"Don't you dare walk away, Sam!" he warned, but she was already upstairs, packing her belongings.
Fuck the deadline.
She returned with her bag, visibly shaken, to find him leaning against the couch for support.
"I'll call Colonel Adams to come and check on you," she said, her red eyes betraying her tears.
Jack made a valiant effort to stand.
"Don't go," he pleaded.
"Delete me from your contacts, General. We clearly have nothing more in common," she replied, trembling, before leaving through the front door.
Jack tried to follow her, but his legs betrayed him.
He managed to grab the wall for support but stumbled and fell in the hallway.
"Carter!"
Sam heard him fall and call her name as she closed the door. With a heavy heart, she shut the door and dialed Colonel Adams' number.
"Sorry to bother you, Sir, but I'm leaving General O'Neill's house for good, and I believe he has fallen in the hallway. He might need your assistance urgently. You can find me working at the Homeworld offices. Thank you, Sir," she explained before hanging up.
Sam stumbled out of his house, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions. The crisp evening air hit her like a shock, but it did nothing to clear the fog that clouded her thoughts. She wandered for a few minutes, her legs moving on autopilot while her heart pounded. Finally, she spotted a taxi idling by the curb, its driver leaning back casually, oblivious to the storm inside her.
With a shaky hand, Sam hailed the cab. The driver straightened up, acknowledging her signal, and pulled over. She slid into the back seat, her body heavy with the weight of everything she'd been holding in.
"Where to?" the driver asked, his voice distant, as if coming from underwater.
Sam gave him the name of the hotel she had hastily booked earlier, barely recognizing her voice. The driver nodded and pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring as they sped.
As the car weaved through the streets, Sam felt the dam inside her begin to crack. The walls she had built up over the years, the carefully constructed defenses that had always kept her emotions in check regarding Jack O'Neill, were crumbling under the pressure. Her vision blurred, and before she could stop herself, silent but relentless tears began to spill down her cheeks.
She pressed her fingers against her eyes as if she could force the tears to stop, but it was useless. The floodgates had opened, and all the pain, fear, and guilt she had been suppressing came rushing out. Sam Carter, who had faced down countless enemies and saved the world more times than she could count, now found herself powerless against the force of her own emotions.
She had never felt this terrible in her life. Not when she lost her mother, nor even when her father passed away. This was a different kind of pain—one that went beyond loss and grief. It was a deep sense of helplessness, realizing she had reached her breaking point. The person she cared about most had slipped away, and she could do nothing to stop it. She first sensed it when he stopped talking to her after moving to D.C., and she had just received confirmation moments ago. It was over.
What had never begun was now forever lost.
As the taxi drew closer to the hotel, Sam's tears continued to fall, soaking into the fabric of her jacket. She felt like she was coming apart at the seams, unraveling with every passing second. All the strength she had relied on and the resolve that had carried her through the darkest times seemed to have deserted her.
When the taxi finally pulled up in front of the hotel, Sam hurriedly wiped at her face, trying to compose herself. She handed the driver a crumpled bill, not even waiting for change, and stepped out into the night. The cool air hit her again, but this time, it did nothing to soothe the raw ache in her chest.
She walked into the hotel lobby, keeping her head down to avoid the curious glances of strangers. She only wanted to get to her room, to be alone, where she could let her guard down completely.
Once inside, Sam closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her body shaking as the tears came harder, unbidden and unstoppable. She slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as the sobs wracked her body.
In that hotel room, with no one around to see her fall apart, Sam Carter finally allowed herself to feel the total weight of everything she had been carrying. And in that moment, she realized just how fragile she indeed was. How alone she would ever be.
Colonel Adams burst into the General's house, breathless and urgent, having raced there upon receiving a call from Carter. Despite the option of dispatching a member of his security team to assess the situation, he personally ensured the General's safety, fearing Carter's claim of a fall might be valid and preventing the General from more embarrassment. His decision was swiftly validated upon finding the General seated against a wall in the hallway.
"Sir, are you injured?" Adams inquired immediately.
"Help me up, Adams," came Jack's chilly command.
Without hesitation, Trevor Adams assisted the General to his feet, guiding him slowly back to the living room, where Jack resumed his place on the couch.
"Can I fetch you anything, Sir?" Adams scanned the room, noting scattered debris that hinted at a recent altercation.
"Find out Colonel Carter's whereabouts. Immediately," Jack ordered, his gaze fixed on the seldom-used fireplace.
"Understood, Sir," Adams acknowledged.
"And give me my laptop." Jack's request was met with a nod as Adams retrieved the device from the bedroom.
"You're dismissed, Colonel," Jack declared impassively, returning his focus to the laptop screen as Adams hesitated.
"Dr. Torremolinos requested someone to stay by your side, Sir," he said.
"Who do you serve, Adams?" Jack's piercing question halted Adams in his tracks.
"You, Sir," Adams affirmed promptly before exiting the room, leaving Jack absorbed in his task.
Adams overheard the General's stern directive as he reached the front door.
"I anticipate a response to my inquiry by tonight," Jack stated firmly.
"Yes, Sir," Adams acknowledged before closing the door softly behind him.
Outside, he wasted no time initiating calls, aware that contacting Colonel Carter immediately might yield resistance.
Trevor Adams discovered that Washington, D.C. boasted roughly 700 hotels, catering to various budgets and preferences. Realizing the urgency of tracking Colonel Carter's whereabouts, he prioritized the task with a "drop everything and focus solely on this" directive. Through diligent effort, Adams's team located Carter's hotel reservation, conveniently paid for with her credit card, just a stone's throw from the Pentagon.
Returning to General O'Neill's residence, Adams found him engrossed in his laptop work. "Report, Adams," Jack commanded without lifting his gaze.
"She's secured a single room near the Pentagon, Sir. The payment was traced back to her credit card. We've stationed a team there, monitoring her movements. She's currently in the hotel," Adams briefed.
Jack extended his hand for the note containing the hotel's name, scanning it briefly before setting it aside.
"Maintain surveillance. I want updates on her every move and any interactions she has. The whole nine yards," he instructed, fingers flying across the keyboard.
Adams hesitated.
"Sir, she mentioned she was working at the Homeworld offices. The President cleared it," he added cautiously.
Jack's expression shifted, a hint of amusement playing across his features.
"Is that so?" he remarked, a glint in his eye.
Adams swallowed nervously.
"Be ready to pick me up at 0700 tomorrow. And fetch a cane," Jack ordered, catching Adams off guard.
"A cane, Sir?" Adams queried, puzzled by the request.
Jack fixed him with a steely gaze.
"Yes, Colonel. It's a walking aid. If you need clarification, Google it," he retorted icily.
Adams nodded quickly.
"Yes, Sir," he replied, sensing no room for further discussion.
Jack signaled Adams to depart with a dismissive wave, leaving him to puzzle over the enigmatic instructions. Finding a cane suddenly became his new priority amidst the myriad of odd tasks he'd been assigned in the past.
The following day, Trevor Adams stood ready to chauffeur his boss to work, holding the requested cane. Jack took the cane, giving it a cursory inspection before testing its stability. Though not perfect, it provided some support for his unsteady gait. Despite a night spent tirelessly exercising and pushing his leg muscles, exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Nevertheless, he felt markedly improved; he no longer felt as vulnerable as a newborn calf.
With a concerted effort, Jack maneuvered himself into the SUV, clad in his dress blues and sporting sunglasses. The vehicle accelerated towards the Homeworld offices, trailed closely by the security team.
Jack strode into the office deliberately, exuding determination despite his slow pace. Though some of his staff muttered low comments, they couldn't help but admire his strength and resilience. Jack discreetly wiped away the sweat as he settled into his chair and cleared his throat.
"Keep me informed the moment she arrives," he instructed Adams firmly.
"Yes, Sir," Adams affirmed before swiftly exiting the office.
Less than twenty minutes later, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter appeared at the office entrance, only to be instructed to wait. Unfazed, she calmly seated herself, briefcase resting on her lap, and prepared for the delay.
Colonel Adams wasted no time in relaying Carter's arrival to Jack.
"Colonel Carter has arrived, Sir. She's waiting at the entrance as instructed," he reported.
Jack nodded in acknowledgment.
"Let her wait," he replied, focusing on his work.
Adams, puzzled, sought clarification. "For how long, Sir?" he inquired.
Engrossed in signing documents, Jack replied icily, "As long as necessary."
Adams's eyes widened with realization.
"Yes, Sir," he responded before exiting the office, sensing the tension.
It was evident that Homeworld Security was about to witness an unprecedented drama. He relayed Jack's directive to the security team before retreating to his desk, prepared to wait alongside them.
Sam watched the minutes tick by on the wall clock, her patience waning with each passing moment. After an hour of waiting, she decided he'd made his point. She was there to work, not to engage in petty games.
"Tell Colonel Trevor Adams I need to speak with him," she instructed one of the guards stationed at the entrance. The guard nodded and made the call, summoning Adams.
Shortly after, Adams appeared at the entrance.
"Good morning," he greeted.
"Morning, Sir," Sam replied respectfully. "I have presidential orders to report to duty, Sir. Here. Can you please inform General O'Neill that I really don't want to escalate this matter by contacting the President of the United States to inform him that I'm being prevented from working?" Sam spoke calmly, though her frustration was evident.
Adams swallowed, knowing the truth of her words.
"I'll convey your message to the General, Ma'am," he replied.
"Thank you, Sir," Sam said, offering a polite smile before resuming her seat.
Adams gritted his teeth and went to the General's office again. Finding Jack seemingly lost in thought, Adams informed him he had a message.
Jack turned his attention to Adams.
"Oh, so what's the message?" he inquired, hands interlocked.
Adams repeated Carter's request, Jack listening impassively.
"Do you think she'll contact Hayes if I let her sweat out there?" Jack queried, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Feeling caught in the middle, Adams hesitated before conceding, "I believe she will, Sir."
Jack grinned. "So do I. Let her in and bring her to my office," he commanded.
Adams breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yes, Sir," he responded before escorting Carter to Jack's office.
"General O'Neill wants to see you," Adams informed her as they traversed the corridors.
"Of course he does," Sam muttered wryly.
As Adams opened the door and ushered her in, he remained outside, content to leave them to their meeting.
Sam stood at attention and saluted Jack as she entered his office.
"Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, reporting to duty, Sir," she stated, following protocol.
Jack observed her from his seated position, elbows resting on the desk.
"At ease, Colonel," he instructed, his gaze fixed on her.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Jack couldn't help but notice how sharp she looked in her dress blues. He pushed aside the distracting thought and focused on the matter at hand.
"So, you're here to work?" Jack inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yes, Sir," Sam affirmed without hesitation.
Jack leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he regarded her.
"What if I don't want you here, Colonel?" he asked, studying her reaction.
Sam met his gaze squarely.
"You'd need to take that up with the President, Sir," she replied, unfazed.
Jack observed her closely, noting her resolve.
"You're supposed to be fighting the Ori," he remarked, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.
Sam swallowed but kept her composure, her expression calm and resolute. Last night had given her the time to sort through her thoughts, and now everything was more apparent. She knew exactly what needed to be done. He no longer had the power to throw her off balance.
"I was ordered to report here, Sir," she stated firmly, adding the "Sir" deliberately, almost as an afterthought.
"I could speak with Hayes and request your return to the SGC," Jack offered, testing her reaction.
Sam gritted her teeth, but her response remained composed.
"It's your prerogative, Sir. I'll follow any orders given," she replied evenly.
Jack leaned forward, scrutinizing her closely.
"Do you want to return to the SGC?" he probed, curious about her true intentions.
Sam hesitated, her eyes flickering to a point above his head before returning to meet his gaze. "I'll follow orders," she reiterated, her tone resolute.
Jack almost smiled at her unwavering determination.
"You forgot the 'Sir,'" he pointed out, a hint of challenge in his tone.
This time, Sam looked him squarely in the eye.
"Sir," she said slowly, and Jack couldn't shake the feeling that the word held a subtle hint of defiance. She was undoubtedly a tough cookie, just as he remembered her from their first encounter—a chip on her shoulder that hadn't faded with time.
Jack sighed, realizing he wasn't making any headway with her. Their dynamic had been honed over years of interaction, almost becoming an art form.
"For the time being, you'll remain here because I don't want to oppose Hayes, especially considering he saved my life," Jack conceded.
Sam remained silent, her gaze returning to the wall.
"However, I don't anticipate you uncovering the leak swiftly. So, in about a week, I'll speak to the President and request your return to the SGC, where your presence is more critical fighting the Ori than it is here," Jack elaborated.
Sam struggled to swallow the growing lump in her throat. Despite her resolve, his blunt personal and professional dismissal stung deeply.
"Yes, Sir," she managed to reply, her voice not as steady as she would have liked.
Jack noted her unease but chose not to address it.
"Get back to work, Colonel. Put your genius to use for Homeworld," he instructed, dismissing her with a wave.
Sam saluted once more and exited his office. Jack sighed heavily, letting his head fall against the desk. This situation was far from easy—it would be a challenge every step of the way.
Colonel Adams escorted her to the assigned desk and handed her the security pass necessary for office entry.
"Do you require anything else, Colonel?" he inquired, noticing her stillness.
"No, thank you, Sir," Sam replied, attempting to gather herself after the tense discussion with Jack.
Adams couldn't help but observe her whiteness, but he left without further comment. His primary responsibility lay with the General; Colonel Carter's well-being was not his immediate concern.
Taking a deep breath, Sam powered up her computer and delved into her work. With Jack's mention of a one-week timeframe before potentially returning to the SGC, she had limited time to identify the individual or individuals who had targeted him. She knew that SGC was already investigating the toxin and its possible origin. She had other investigations to do, and despite the daunting task ahead, she remained resolute. Jack had an adversary, and Sam was determined to uncover their identity before leaving for good. She would do that for him and then depart for good.
There was much work to be done.