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. So, as promised, the plot is going somewhere again, so thank you for your patience through these past few chapters of angst 😭 As always I truly appreciate your support ❤️

Chapter 14: breathe in the light

Sam wakes the next morning in Cassie's bed. Her surrogate niece is away on a trip with her college friends and won't be back for another week. Janet offered to let Sam use the space until then, but Sam isn't sure she wants to. The allure of solitude is too strong, although she's admittedly starting to grow weary of mourning by herself.

A sliver of sunlight slips through a crack in the blinds. Sam squints and turns away from the window. Her gaze lands on an array of artwork plastered to the wall. Some of the art is Cassie's own work, paintings and sketches done over the years since she first started taking an interest in art back in middle school. Others are art prints from various movies and TV shows. Cassie grew rather fond of Earth media after Janet adopted her, and the obsession has never really worn off. It was something she and Jonas bonded over once he met her. Sam can't help but smile as a reel of happy memories begins to play in the back of her mind. Cassie was always excited when Sam brought him over to visit, often dragging him off to the side to discuss theories about some series they were both in the middle of watching. He even convinced Janet at one point to let him accompany her to a local convention, which they both dragged Sam to as well. That was the time he wanted to dress up as Westley, insisting that it "wouldn't be right" if Westley attended without a Buttercup. Cass agreed, and Sam eventually caved to the pressure. She remembers the costumes turning out better than expected. She also remembers Cass making a big deal of snapping photos of her and Jonas in couple's poses. In retrospect she realizes that Cass probably thought the two of them were cute together. Of course. Why hadn't she seen it before?

But that's the thing about hindsight - it's often far clearer than your view of things in the moment. Sam holds back a sigh. She wishes, and not for the first time, that she hadn't spent so long biting her tongue when it came to her feelings. If she knew beforehand what was going to happen to Jonas, then maybe…

No, she can't allow herself to use that as an excuse. She had an opportunity to be honest before he died, and she wasted it. She deserves to shoulder the burden of shame for that, no matter how much Janet might say that she doesn't.

Her gaze continues to drift along the wall of artwork. It lands, almost predictably, on an art print of Westley and Buttercup depicted in the style of "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt. The original is one of Cassie's favorite paintings, and Sam recalls it being a favorite of Jonas' too. A love of art was another thing the two shared, since Jonas himself was surprisingly skilled at drawing. Cass bought him a sketchbook one Christmas, which he was so enamored with he carried it with him everywhere for awhile. Sam remembers catching him sketching in it a few times during mission briefings. He always claimed afterwards that he was just taking notes, but Sam knew better. The sketchbook is still on a shelf in his office.

She hasn't yet had the heart to look at it.

The alarm on her wristwatch goes off before she has the chance to stew in her grief any further. Finally letting out a sigh, she pulls back the covers and slips out of bed. Time to go back to work and act like life can somehow go back to normal. She knows deep down, however, that it probably never will.

Sam spends most of the day in Jonas' old office, organizing more notes on the Asterion device. She flips through his journal at one point, fighting back the tears that inevitably try to surface. The pages are filled to the margins, featuring addendums to his main notes and a variety of doodles. Some of the doodles are of the device and the crystal, but most of them are random. She almost laughs when she spies a cartoon of Schrödinger with a piece of turkey bacon hanging out of his mouth. A thought bubble that reads, "Mom never has to know…" hovers over his head.

Sam smiles sadly and flips the page. The next several pages are labeled "Ring Combos" at the top, followed by a series of symbols all arranged in different orders. These are the combinations Jonas tried when he was attempting to figure out how to either unlock or activate the rings on the device. Sam scans the pages, taking note of how each failed combination has a line drawn through it to cross it off the list. She wonders briefly how close Jonas was to cracking the code. Would things have been different if he found the right one before they left on the mission? She sighs. No, of course not. That's just wishful thinking on her part. All signs seemed to point towards the crystal being drained of power, and even if they had managed to open the device's outer casing, the crystal still would have remained inactive. They would've had to return to the planet anyway to search for a new one, and everything most likely would have unfolded in the same way.

Sam places the journal down on Jonas' desk. She checks her watch, realizing that she's worked past lunch time again. Someone is bound to check up on her soon, and she has to bite back the urge to groan in irritation. Right now she just wants to be left alone. Visiting Jonas' office today has been hard enough. She can't bear the thought of facing one of her friends and seeing the "Poor Sam" look in their eyes for the umpteenth time. So far she's been doing a decent job of restraining herself from lashing out, but she's not sure how long that's going to last.

Sam decides it's best to shut the office door. Maybe then no one will bother her. After doing so, she makes her way back over to the desk. She's about to sit down when her eyes catch sight of something on the bookshelf across the room. It's Jonas' sketchbook, the one Cassie gave to him as a Christmas present. Although she doesn't know why, Sam feels a sudden urge to abandon her work and take a look at it. At first she hesitates, wondering if poking through his private things is appropriate even though he's no longer around to protest. But after a moment her curiosity wins out, and she stands up, crosses the room, and pulls the sketchbook off the shelf.

The cover is simple, just black faux leather secured with an elastic strap. Sam gingerly tugs the strap aside and opens the book. Jonas' name is scrawled on the inside flap, followed by a smiley face. Slowly, Sam begins to turn the pages. The first few are covered with standard sketches - life drawings and drawings of random objects, mostly. But as the pages go on, the sketches start to become more detailed and specific. There are several small sketches of Jonas and the team (a good number of them of just him and Daniel), some of Cassie and Janet, and others of her and Schrödinger. She smiles as she passes a sketch of the two of them eating funnel cake at the fair. He really did love that funnel cake. Her heart starts to ache at the fact that he'll never get to try any more new foods, so she turns the page again to dispel the thought from her mind.

The next section of the sketchbook, however, brings her heart to a full stop. These pages are filled with nothing but sketches of her. Her various hairstyles, her smiles, her frowns - every look and every expression has been lovingly cataloged with the utmost detail and care. A lump starts to form in her throat. She can't remember him ever telling her that she was beautiful, but the sketches speak for themselves. All that time, this was how he saw her. Sam's eyes fill with tears as she continues to flip through the pages. Her breath catches when she lands on a full-page portrait of her. The words "prelim sketch - transfer to ink and color" are written in the top left corner, and she wonders if Jonas was planning on giving her the finished version as a gift. The thought that he never got to complete it shatters what little resolve she has left, and she breaks down crying again.

She's about to shut the sketchbook when something slips out from among the pages and falls onto the floor. Sam crouches down to pick it up. It's a colored sketch of Westley and Buttercup with the caption, "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while," written in fancy script at the bottom. Sam stands back up, her eyes glued to the drawing. That line is the same one Jonas quoted in her dream, back when she was still stuck in the caves. Something starts to niggle at the back of her mind. She never used to put much stock in the significance of her dreams, but ever since Jonas' first experience with precognition, she's learned to keep an open mind. True, perhaps his appearance was nothing more than a subconscious attempt to process her grief. But maybe, in a way beyond her capacity to understand, he was trying to send her some kind of message…

Sam closes the sketchbook and places it back on the shelf. She then carries the drawing over to the desk and lays it down next to Jonas' journal, looking back and forth between the drawing and the lines of scribbled symbols. For some reason she's starting to get the feeling that the two things are connected somehow. But she's missing something. Maybe the words correspond to certain symbols? She picks out the key words in her mind: death, stop, love, and delay. Then she flips back through the journal's pages, searching for possible translations. Her search, however, comes up empty. The only note of relevance that she can find is one that reads, "Language unknown. Not Ancient, although it could be a different dialect that uses a hieroglyphic alphabet."

Sam sighs in frustration. Maybe she's just falling prey to wishful thinking again. Her brain most likely conjured up Dream-Jonas based off of her memories of him, many of which involved his love of The Princess Bride. If any correlation exists between that quote and the Asterion device, it's merely coincidental.

Still, she could just be overlooking something…

She stuffs the drawing into the journal, closes it, and tucks it under her arm. She needs to clear her head. And there's only one person on this base who can help her do just that.

Teal'c is surprised yet pleased to see her when she arrives at his door. To a stranger, his expression would look as impassive as ever. But Sam knows him well enough by now to be able to read the nuances that others usually miss.

"Colonel Carter," he says, greeting her with a nod. "It is good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," she replies, offering him a half-smile.

Teal'c takes a step forward. "Colonel Mitchell was concerned when you failed to join us for lunch again," he remarks. "He intended to inquire after you, but I advised him that it would be unwise to disturb you."

Sam's face flushes. "Thanks," she murmurs. "You didn't have to do that."

Teal'c meets her eyes, his demeanor growing more serious. "That being said," he continues, "I must admit that I do share his concerns."

Sam glances down at her feet, feeling a rush of embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I know I've been avoiding everybody lately. It's just been hard, you know?"

She looks up to see Teal'c nodding again, his expression softening. "The loss of Jonas Quinn was an unexpected tragedy for all of us," he says. "But I know that it has been especially difficult for you."

Sam sniffles, willing herself not to cry. "Yeah," she murmurs. "I haven't exactly been dealing with it well."

Teal'c steps closer and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Colonel Carter, you know that if you require anything from us, you need only ask."

Sam wipes a stray tear away with the back of her hand. "Yeah," she says again. "That's actually, uh, what I came here to talk to you about."

Teal'c raises an eyebrow.

She takes that as her cue to go on. "I've, um, been going through Jonas' notes," she explains. "And I'm kind of hung up on something I can't quite figure out." She takes a breath. "I was hoping…I was hoping you might be able to help me meditate on it?"

Teal'c smiles warmly at her. "Of course."

Sam follows his lead as he invites her inside to sit on the floor. She sets Jonas' journal down next to her. "I don't need anything formal. Just some help clearing my mind."

Teal'c closes the door and sets to work lighting a candle. "I would be happy to guide you through a simple meditation exercise," he says, coming to sit opposite her.

Sam nods. She's not sure what else to say, or if she should say anything at all.

Teal'c places the candle on the floor between them. "I find that for those who are not as experienced with regular meditative practice, it is helpful to begin with a focal point."

Sam focuses her gaze on the bright yellow flame. "What do I do now?"

Teal'c extends his arms, and Sam places her hands in his own. "We will cycle through a few rounds of deep breathing," he explains. "Then I will direct you to close your eyes."

Sam nods again and begins to follow along as Teal'c counts out a pattern of inhales and exhales. Four to breathe in. Five to hold. Six to breathe out. After repeating the process a few times, Sam starts to feel her body relax and her eyelids grow heavy.

Teal'c then gives her hands a quick squeeze. "You may now close your eyes. As you do so, keep the image of the flame present in your mind."

Sam does as she's told. She imagines the candle still flickering, a steady point of light in the darkness.

"Now," Teal'c says, "envision yourself taking the candle in your hands, and shining its light on the question you believe needs answering."

Once again, Sam follows his lead. She imagines lifting the candle above Jonas' journal, letting the light fall on his notes. She mentally flips through the pages, coming to a stop at the end of the section with the symbol combinations. Like before, all of the combinations have been crossed out.

Well, all of them except the last one.

"Wait, I think I see something," Sam blurts out.

Teal'c squeezes her hands once more. "You do not need to inform me of what you encounter," he says. "This journey of discovery is yours to undertake."

Sam takes another breath and falls silent again. In her mind's eye, she brings the light closer to the page in question. Sure enough, the last combination written there is the only one without a line drawn through it. She must have been so distracted by her grief and frustration that she missed it the first time through. Is this the one combination Jonas didn't have the chance to try before they went on the mission? Is it possible thatthis is the code that could've unlocked or activated the device? But, Sam remembers, even if that were true, that still wouldn't have solved the power good would the device have been if the crystal was still inoperative?

Unless, she thinks suddenly, it wasn't inoperative at all.

Her eyes snap open.

"Colonel Carter?"

Sam blinks and lets go of Teal'c's hands. "I'm okay," she says, retrieving Jonas' journal once her mind has returned to full awareness. "I just, um…I think I might've found something important."

Teal'c nods in acknowledgement. "I am glad to hear it," he replies. "Is there anything more that you require?"

Sam shakes her head. "No, I think I'm good." Her body, once relaxed, is now buzzing with anticipation. She needs to get to the lab. Now.

Teal'c blows out the candle and helps her to her feet. "If you need any assistance in the future, Colonel, please do not hesitate to ask."

Sam offers him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Teal'c. I really appreciate it."

He smiles back. "Of course," he says kindly. "You know my door is always open to you."

The device is on a table in the middle of Lab 26, looking more like an oddly-shaped centerpiece than a piece of alien technology. It's standing vertically at a height of about fifteen inches, giving Sam a proper head-on view of the metal rings, the glass casing, and the crystal housed inside. Upon entering the room, she lays Jonas' journal down on the table and opens it to the last page labeled "Ring Combos." Sure enough, the final combination written there is the only one that hasn't been crossed off.

Sam glances between the symbols and the rings. Her heart is pounding now and her fingers are twitching with impatient curiosity. But a part of her is terrified to test the combination. What if it doesn't work? What if she's just getting her hopes up for nothing? What if she's able to open the casing, but her new theory about the crystal is incorrect? What if she just hits another dead end?

Use that big brain of yours. You'll figure something out.

Sam takes a deep breath, Dream-Jonas' words echoing through her mind. She has to try. She owes him that much at least.

She reaches for the rings.

Sam moves the top ring around until it lands on a symbol of two overlapping circles. The device lets out a soft click once the symbol reaches the front of the casing. Her heart leaps, but she squashes the impulse to celebrate - there's still two more symbols left to try. She then takes another breath and moves the middle ring, stopping once a symbol of two arrows facing in opposite directions lands in the same position. The device lets out a second soft click. Her breath catches in her throat.

Only one symbol left now.

Sam flexes her hands, willing them to stop shaking, and starts to move the bottom ring. She brings a symbol of what looks like a pair of hands releasing a bird into the air in line with the other two. Then she waits.

Click.

All of a sudden, the device comes to life. Sam steps back, watching in both awe and fascination as the device emits a whirring sound, followed by the rings spinning in rapid circles like an uncoiling spring. She then hears a pop and a hiss, and the glass casing splits apart. The top half rises up a few centimeters above the first ring, releasing a cloud of white smoke into the air.

Sam stares at the device in disbelief. It worked. It actually worked.

Carefully, she lifts the top half of the casing away and sets it down on the table. A bit more smoke spills out, filling the room with a strange metallic scent. Sam waves it away, resisting the urge to sneeze, and then directs her attention to the crystal. Nothing about it seems to have changed - it still looks as inactive as it did when the casing was closed. But just when she feels the impulse to give in to despair, another memory springs to mind.

From what I could gather, whoever designed it intended for it to operate by establishing a neural link with the user.

Sam holds her breath. That's right. Dr. Augustine thought the device could emit a charge that could connect with the user's brainwaves, therefore enabling it to sync up with the user's memories. So maybe, just maybe, she simply needs to make contact with the crystal in order to activate it…

She reaches forward again. Her fingertips brush against the top of the crystal.

The crystal starts to glow.

In a flash, the answer that eluded both her and Jonas takes shape in her mind. They were wrong about the device. The casing was never the key. The casing is just that - an outer case meant to protect the crystal inside it, and nothing more. The rings are merely a locking mechanism to keep the case sealed. The casing isn't the device.

The crystal itself is the device.

Sam's heart flutters in her chest. All this time, the answer was right in front of them. They were just so busy overthinking that answer that they looked past it without even realizing. It was simple. So, so simple.

She pulls her hand away and glances back down at the journal. The drawing of Westley and Buttercup is still there, sitting next to the final page of symbols. Sam traces the sketch, lingering for a moment on Jonas' signature before running her fingers over the inscription.

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."

Death cannot stop true love.

Death cannot stop…

Sam's head snaps up, her eyes locking onto the crystal. If all she needs to do is touch the crystal to make it work, then that means she can use it. She can jump back in time. She can go back to the planet, and back to the caves. She can stop what happened before it happens.

She can undo Jonas' death.

A rush of emotion overwhelms her, and her eyes begin to fill with tears. All these weeks spent grieving, desperately wishing she could fix what she thought couldn't be fixed, and the solution was right under her nose the whole time. She can reverse her failure. She can save his life. She can do what she couldn't do before and give back what time stole away from him.

Sam takes a shaky breath, the tears now spilling down her face. You were right, she thinks, clinging to the image of Dream-Jonas in her mind. His smile, so full of hope now, fills her with a warmth she thought she'd never feel again. You were right.

This isn't over yet.

A/N: The title of this chapter is taken from the lyrics of "Oblivion" by M83 ft. Susanne Sundfør. The song as a whole fits Sam's situation in this section of the story, but that particular lyric I thought was a nice nod to the meditation scene.

I put in the references to Cassandra because I feel like if she and Jonas ever met they'd probably get along. They both moved to Earth from alien planets and had unfortunate run-ins with Nirrti, which I imagine would be things they'd bond over.

Jonas' artistic talent isn't something explicitly mentioned on the show, but there's a brief shot of his notebook in "Prophecy" where you can see a detailed drawing on one of the pages. I just took the idea and decided to run with it.

I didn't originally plan for the Teal'c scene, but I was glad to include it since I liked the idea of him offering Sam support like he did in the previous fic. Their friendship is so sweet and I feel like it sometimes gets overlooked.

Lab 26 is a reference to Back to the Future. October 26, 1985, is the date when Marty McFly jumps back in time to 1955.