AU: John takes a turn for the worse... Sam is lost... and Gracie goes nuclear...
Chapter 32: Every cloud has a silver lining
Thursday, 18th March 2004 – 2330 hours – Kiowa, Colorado – Daniel Jackson
"John!" Sam half cried half demanded as she moved like a whirlwind towards him. He had tried to say something, but his words were garbled, then his head dropped forwards. Out cold. "John." She tried again, pressing her fingers into his neck hard. Seeing her do that sent a jolt ricocheting through my body. He had just passed out I told myself until Sam became agitated. She lifted his head and pressed her fingers to his carotid artery again and again in different places.
"Don't you dare. You hear me?" She whispered at first, then demanded more forcefully. He was pasty white and listless. Looking very much like Jack did when he took a staff shot to his side some years back. "Get these off him!" She screamed, pulling at the handcuffs. Before anyone else could do anything, she stomped over to the paralysed man she called Pete and used her boot to forcefully kick him onto his side earning herself a muffled groan. Retrieving his keys, she came back and unlocked the cuffs, throwing them to the floor so hard that they bounced and skittered. By the time she did that, Teal'c was there lifting John to the ground. She wasted no time in starting CPR.
"Shit." I gasped and came over to provide as much as assistance as I could.
"John, goddamn it. Don't you leave me now!" She demanded as she compressed his chest. Once she reached thirty, I provided two rescue breaths and she started again. I had no idea how many rounds we did or how long we tried to breathe life into him. All I knew was that my knees were aching and my stomach muscles tense from holding my body weight up without the use of my hands to suspend myself. Sam was exhausted.
"Sam." I whispered.
"No, Daniel." She bit back, continuing in her attempts despite slowing down to the point where her attempts would be pointless. Reaching for her hands, I held them still. She pulled them away and continued her fruitless attempts to bring him back.
"Sam." I tried to get her attention.
"If you're not going to help Daniel, get out of my way." She ordered vehemently. "C'mon John. C'mon." She berated him as if he could hear her.
"He's gone." I choked out, shocked at the intensity of my own grief.
"No." She said again, trying to pull away from me to resume once again. She took in a great sniffling sob, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and kept going. "C'mon John." Then she balled up her fist and hit him, "Don't do this! Please… Sir! Please… Jack!" She howled as her fists rained down on his still form.
I knew it was no use. It had been too long. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her into my side, she finally stopped and broke. A racking sob climbed out of her lungs as she trembled. Looking from the General – who we believed was trying to sell us out – and back to Teal'c, I signalled for him to get the others. With a silent agreement, Teal'c moved towards the holding cells while I continued to soothe Sam who was whispering adamantly to herself that he wasn't gone. Wrapping my other arm around her, she slumped and cried out her pain. John must have had a reason for not wanting Kennedy gone, and I guessed it stemmed from one of Jack's memories.
"Shhh, I've got you." I murmured, looking down at the laid-out form of John. The kid who had gone from being a forgotten element to another best friend and a vital member of our little family in a little over a month. While he was Jack, he was also his own person.
"Colonel Carter." The General who – as a Colonel – wanted to take Teal'c away to be tested upon spoke in his deep voice. "I'm truly s…" At his words, Sam went rigid, breaking free from my arms, then gingerly getting to her feet, and taking two large steps towards the General.
"NO!" She yelled, pointing her finger at him. "No. You don't get to say that. We are here because your cronies took Grace and Cassie. The only reason you aren't dead is because of him. He was… is injured. He's going to be fine; he's just passed out." She insisted on the lie, her voice quaked bringing tears to my eyes. Looking from her to my friend, I leaned over and pressed my fingers to his cold throat. Just in case. There was nothing. Not even a murmur.
"Sam." I choked out, unable to disguise the anguish. She turned and looked at me, her face scrunching up like it did so many times that we thought we had lost Jack.
"No." She cried, shakily running her hands over her cheeks and up to her forehead. "Mmt…mmt." She made the sound for 'no' while shaking her head and running her fingers through her hair. Standing back to my full height, I reached out for her, snagging her arm by the fold of her elbow and pulling her to me, the whole time she muttered 'no' and 'mmt…mmt' as if it would bring him back. When she finally curled herself into the fold of my arms, she cried in great shaking sobs. Despite the animosity that had been between us, at that moment, we were Daniel and Sam. Best friends, teammates, found family. Grieving for the loss of one of our own. It felt strange for me to be the one to comfort my two closest friends as they mourned the loss of the other. First it had been Jack after Sam died, and now it was another Sam after her version of Jack had died.
The slap of small ballet slippered feet echoed around the building followed by more heavy boot sounds heralded the arrival of Grace, Cassie, and Charlie. Teal'c following at a sedate pace close behind.
"Daddy." Grace called out as she ran full tilt towards our group. Looking urgently to Charlie, I conveyed everything he needed to know with one look.
"Grace. Sweetheart. Come here." Charlie called out stopping her in her tracks. Holding his hand out, he looked down at her. "Let's go get some fresh air, hey?"
"After I see Daddy." She insisted and pulled him towards where John laid again.
"Grace. He's asleep. His arm hurts." Charlie explained, getting down to her level. Grace looked over to me, seeing Sam in distress and tears in my eyes. Then she looked at Cassie who stood with her hand over her mouth and wet cheeks before looking back at Charlie who was equally unable to hide his emotion. John had that much of an impact on every single one of us that we felt it keenly. Even Teal'c was struggling.
"No, Uncle Charlie. I want to see my Uncle John. I want to see my mini-Daddy!" She demanded with a trembling voice brimming with a touch of anger and a stamp of her small foot in show of spirited defiance.
"Sweetheart…"
"NO!" She screamed, making Sam grip my shirt and muffle her sobs into my shoulder harder than before. I could see Grace starting to glow, the halo around her body reminding me of when the sun shone from behind the clouds. I knew what was coming, and it would not be pretty. I also knew that Charlie would bear the brunt of her explosion since he was the one stopping her from seeing John.
"Charlie. Let her go." I said quietly. He looked at me, then nodded, dropping his chin to his chest. Then stood up and held out his hand. Walking with her around the table to where John lay on the floor motionless, his visage almost as grey as the surrounding concrete. The sudden outpouring of grief from the little girl as she dropped to her knees beside him caused every hardened man – and woman – in the room to breakdown. Even General Kennedy who had a reputation for his hard exterior looked a little forlorn.
"Daddy! Daddyyyy…" Grace sobbed a heavy choking sound as her little hands touched his face, neck, shoulders and back to his face. "Wake up." She demanded, her little hands curling into fists as they clenched his loose BDU shirt to give him a shake. "You wake up right now!" She demanded a second time. When he didn't rouse, she sobbed and climbed up onto his chest, then laying down curled up wrapping her little arm up and around his neck, the other one slipping under the bundled-up blood soaked BDU shirt. I couldn't see what she was doing from where I was standing because Sam had not let me go. She was barely staying upright; the weight of her anguish was so great. That didn't stop me from looking at the little girl who had lost two fathers and feeling her pain as keenly as I felt my own on the day I had lost my parents.
Looking around, I could see several of the downed assailants coming to their senses, one even getting to his knees. I watched seemingly in slow motion the soldier I didn't know rolled to his side, reached for a zat, and aimed at Grace.
"Gracie." Charlie yelled, taking a step forward into the blast. We were powerless to stop it and Charlie went down, but not before he landed a substantial punch into face of his assailant. Grace did not stop, and I figured that maybe she couldn't. As we looked on, she grew brighter, engulfing John's grey visage in a sea of golden yellow fire until we were forced to look away.
"Daddy, help me." Her small voice echoed, sounding almost ethereal. At her request, the room grew brighter, more golden and then she flashed bright white with tendrils flicking out in every direction – one for each aggressor still alive in the room – for a mere moment before coming back to her normal state. The fading light left in its wake three more dead bodies, each showing external signs of a brain haemorrhage followed by the sound of a piece of metal hitting the concrete floor cutting through the silent building.
"Graciekins?" The nickname coming out like a question. "Are you OK?"
"Oh God!" Sam cried, pulling away from me while I stood there stunned. "John?"
"Hey, Sam." He said, then looked around at everyone in the room from his position on the floor, then down at his shoulder. Reaching around Gracie's small form, he pulled the bloodied shirt off his shoulder, the belt still in place and fingered the hole in his shirt. "Grace. Did you…?" He started to ask just as Sam got to his side and pressed her lips to his. His free hand immediately coming to the back of her head. When she pulled away, he complained and tried to follow her.
"Jonathan O'Neill. Don't you ever, ever do that to me again. You hear?" Sam ordered while fighting her tears, though I could see her mile wide smile.
"OK, but only if you do that again." He replied and leaned up towards her despite the weight of Gracie bearing down on him. Sam giggled uncontrollably along with great hiccupping sobs as she accepted his kiss while her hands cradled his face. The sound of a clearing throat interrupted the reunion. Sam reluctantly came back to her feet and stood tall, scowling while John looked at the General from his prone position.
"Hey, Martin."
"Jack." He nodded.
"To what do we owe this pleasure?" John asked the man as if they had been friends and colleagues for years. I supposed since both of them were Air Force officers, they kind of were colleagues, though he was promoted ahead of Jack. Moving forwards, I crouched and gathered a sleeping Gracie into my arms so that he could get up.
"KP." He replied with a smile. I knew from listening to Jack that that meant kitchen patrol which was normally reserved for enlisted who had screwed up or pissed off the wrong person.
"Ah. Taking out the trash." John replied in some sort of covert speak that only they seemed to understand, looking around at the collection of bad guys laid out on the floor. "Is this the final phase of your master plan?" His question making the General smile but not give a response other than two raised eyebrows.
"Almost." He replied succinctly.
"Ah. Well, you gotta wait a few more months. Not 17 until October, ya know." John responded, no doubt alluding to the agreement he had with the Air Force to attend the Academy. Not that any of us would call it an agreement, more of a 'you will do this' suggestion. As for John, well… like Jack, all he wanted was to fly jets again.
"An event that we in Intelligence eagerly await. Though, for now, I am here for Colonel Carter." He stated, making that agreement sound a lot like they were going to funnel John in black ops just like they did with Jack. Clasping his hands behind his back, and looking at Sam, the General commented, "You are truly a remarkable woman. You've come a very long way from the Captain I met so long ago."
"I had a good teacher." She replied, carefully keeping her face free of any semblance of emotion. As blank as any Jack O'Neill expression I had ever seen.
He smiled again, "That you did. What do you say about putting those impressive skills to use once again?" His question clearly shocked Sam, though only her closest friends would notice the slight change in her demeanour.
"General, as I am sure you've heard, I'm a retired schoolteacher from Connecticut these days." She responded giving him an enquiring look, as if she were trying to read an illegible text written in a language that she didn't know.
"Sam." John said, wrapping his hand around hers. "Hear him out. Please." She looked at him and I fully expected her defiance to come out, but instead she nodded once, then turned and looked at Kennedy.
"You have five minutes." She stated, her arms crossing over her body. It didn't escape my notice that those were the same words Simmons had spoken in the radio. He smiled then, and I realised it was the first time I had seen him do so.
"I only need two, Colonel." He replied, then handed her a file. Sam carefully retrieved and held it firm in her hands as if it were precious before looking back at General Kennedy, the man who we believed had been an enemy of the SGC rather than a wolf dressed as a sheep where the sheep apparently happened to be Kinsey and his ilk. This would be an interesting conversation.