Two weeks had passed since Jack had been cleared from his command evaluation, Sam had submitted her testimony, and she had begun to open up more in her therapy sessions. Outside the SGC, life went on as usual, but within the Mountain's walls, the atmosphere was thick with tension—strained, restless, like a volcano poised to erupt at any moment.

Sam sat across from Dr. Edgar Aldan, feeling the familiar tension build in her chest. Again. His office was sparse, with soft lighting that created an almost calming atmosphere. Almost. Dr. Aldan was professional, always careful not to push too hard but always insisting thatshetried to move a step further than the one she had done in the previous session. However,Sam could sense the weight of the decision looming over them.

"You've made great progress, Sam," Aldan said calmly. "Your physical recovery is going well, and you've worked through a lot emotionally. But I have to ask—how do you feel about returning to duty?"

Sam stared at her hands, fingers intertwined and pressing tightly together. She had been waiting for this moment, but uncertainty gnawed at her now that it was here.

"I think… I'm ready," she said slowly, meeting his gaze. "But I know it'll take time."

Dr. Aldan nodded, satisfied with her honesty.

"You'll be cleared for light duty—no offworld missions. Focus on your work in the lab. When you feel fully ready, we'll reassess."

Sam exhaled softly, relief mixing with the ever-present anxiety. "Thank you, Doctor."

Later that day, Sam stood in General Hammond's office. The atmosphere was formal but tinged with concern. Hammond had always been supportive, but Sam could see the worry in his eyes.

"Major Carter," Hammond began, folding his hands on his desk. Dr. Aldan has given the go-ahead for your return to light duty. For now, I want you to focus on your work in the lab and eventually land a hand on Daniel on his research. No field missions until we're sure you're fully recovered."

Sam nodded, her posture rigid. "Understood, Sir."

Hammond's gaze softened.

"This isn't about doubting your abilities, Major. We need you here, but we also need you at your best. Take all the time you need."

Sam forced a small smile. "I'll return to full duty as soon as possible, Sir."

Hammond nodded. "I'm confident you will."

That afternoon, as General Hammond sat at his desk, the phone rang with an urgent tone, one that only a select few used. He answered immediately.

"General Hammond," he said, his voice steady.

"George, it's Jacob." The voice on the other end was low but filled with anger—controlled, but barely.

Hammond's heart sank. Ever since he learned Richard Harris had contacted Jacob, he knew this conversation was coming. But nothing could have prepared him for the storm brewing on the other end of the line.

"Jacob, I've been meaning to—"

"What the hell happened to my daughter, George?" Jacob interrupted, his words sharp and unyielding. "Harris told me she was hurt—badly hurt. And you kept me out of the loop. After all these years, you didn't even tell me!"

Hammond leaned back in his chair, his frustration rising though he kept his tone calm.

"Jacob, it's not as simple as that. I wanted to tell you, but the situation—"

"Situation be damned!" Jacob snapped. "This isn't just some military protocol you can hide behind. This is Sam. My daughter. And I demand to know what the hell is going on!" His voice was rising, the pain and anger cutting through the line.

Hammond exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts.

"Jacob, I'm asking you to calm down. You've been out of the loop because, quite frankly, this is highly classified. Your clearance—"

"Don't talk to me about clearance, George! I've already pulled every string I couldandgo through every channel. I have clearance now, and I'm sitting here in D.C, about to get on a plane to Colorado Springs if you don't start giving me some damn answers."

There was a brief silence, the tension thick in the air. Hammond rubbed his temples, knowing Jacob wouldn't be easily swayed. And if Jacob said he had clearance, Hammond believed him—Jacob Carter didn't lie, not even under the gravest circumstances. It was a Carter trait through and through.

"Don't fly out here, Jacob. I'm coming to D.C. We'll talk face-to-face. You have my word."

"Talk? You better be ready to explain everything, George," Jacob growled. "Because if you don't, I will. And you won't like the way I do it."

Hammond's voice softened, knowing the weight of Jacob's rage was born from love for his daughter. "I'll explain everything. Just… wait for me. I'll be on the first flight out."

There was a long pause, and then Jacob muttered reluctantly, "Fine. I'll wait."

The following morning, Hammond arrived at the Pentagon, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead. He was quickly ushered to a private conference room where Jacob Carter waited, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. Jacob rounded on him when Hammond stepped inside, his brown eyes blazing.

"George, you'd better have a damn good explanation," Jacob barked.

Hammond met his gaze evenly. He had confirmed that Jacob Carter had been cleared about the Stargate program by the President himself, so there was no more point in denying it.

"Jacob, sit down. I'm here to tell you everything. But you need to understand—this isn't just about Samantha. There's much more at stake."

Jacob scoffed but sat down, though his posture remained rigid.

"Start talking."

Hammond beganby methodically explaining the Stargate program, the missions, andthe risks. He described how SG-1, Sam's team, had encountered countless dangers but had always come through together. But then he got to the mission that went horribly wrong.

Jacob's expression shifted from anger to horror as Hammond detailed what happened.

"And then… Sam was taken along with her colleague Daniel Jackson. She was subjected to… terrible things, Jacob. But we got her back. They all returned to SGC."

Jacob's face had gone pale.

"What do you mean 'terrible things'? What happened to her, George? Harris said she was assaulted. Is that true?" His voice was tight with barely restrained emotion.

Hammond leaned forward, his voice softer.

"Yes, she was sexually assaulted. She's receiving counselingand has recently been cleared for light duty. She's a fighter, Jacob. She's coming through this, but it's been hard."

Jacob sat back, his hands trembling. He ran them through his almost bald head, his chest heaving.

"My God…" His voice was barely a whisper. "How could this happen? How could you let this happen, George?"

"Jacob, we're doing everything we can for her. She's been receiving the best care, and her team has been supporting her every step of the way."

Jacob didn't speak for a long moment, his face a mask of anguish. Finally, he muttered, "I need to see her. I'm going to Colorado."

Hammond shook his head gently.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jacob. Not right now. She's healingbutnot ready for visitors—not like this."

He was about to say, "Not you," but stopped in time.

Jacob's eyes flashed with defiance. "She's my daughter, George! I have every right to see her."

"I know you do," Hammond said, his voice firm but compassionate. "But right now, what she needs is time. Rushing in there will only make things harder for her. Let her recover. I promise you'll be kept in the loop on everything."

Jacob clenched his fists, struggling against his instinct to storm out. Finally, with a deep, frustrated sigh, he nodded.

"Fine. But I want updates. Every day."

"You'll have them," Hammond assured him. "I'll personally keep you informed."

There was a long silence before Jacob spoke again, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "And what about Jack O'Neill? What role did he play in this?"

Hammond hesitated but decided honesty was best.

"Jack is one of the best men I've ever worked with. He cares deeply about his team, especially Sam. He's been through hell since it happened, but he's been there for her in every way he can. No one could have prevented what happened, but he's been trying to help her heal."

Jacob frowned, taken aback.

"That's not what I heard. Harris—he told me O'Neill was reckless, that he let her down."

Hammond shook his head.

"Harris's bitter about a lot of things, Jacob. Jack O'Neill may be brash, but there's no one more dedicated to his team. Especially Sam. He is my 2IC for a reason, and you know I chose my men carefully."

Jacob seemed to struggle with that, but eventually, he nodded slowly.

"I'll trust you on this, George. But I want to meet him—soon."

"You will," Hammond promised. "In the meantime, I'll keep you informed about everything. And I'll let you know when it's time to visit Sam."

The two men stood, and Hammond extended his hand.

"Take care, Jacob. We'll get through this."

Jacob grasped his old friend's hand, his grip firm, but the sorrow in his eyes was unmistakable. "You'd better be right about that."

As Hammond left the room, he couldn't help but feel the weight of his promises—and the fragile hope that they would all find their way through the darkness ahead.

Sam's lab felt like a sanctuary. It had always been where she could bury herself in work, where the complexities of her personal life could fade into the background. But today, the familiar hum of equipment and the gentle glow of her computer screens felt oddly distant, like she was moving through the motions but not fully present.

She was tinkering with a piece of alien technology when a soft knock came from the door. Sam's heart skipped, recognizing the familiar rhythm.

Jack O'Neill stood in the doorway, his expression hesitant, almost vulnerable.

"Carter," he said, his voice low.

Sam straightened, her pulse quickening. She hadn't spoken to him since… they woke up in her bed after she had the meltdown. Jack respected her and quietly left her house after she assured him she was feeling better. Ever since he kept his distance, but she knew this moment would come.

"Colonel," she replied, her voice calm but guarded.

Jack lingered in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame.

"Can I come in?"

Sam hesitated for only a moment. She couldn't avoid him forever, and she knew he'd been patient, waiting for her to be ready. She nodded.

"Yeah. Come in."

Jack stepped inside, the door closing gently behind him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension.

Jack cleared his throat, glancing at the scattered tools on her workbench before returning to her. His usual confidence was absent, replaced by something more tentative, more raw.

"I… I wanted to talk," he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I've been trying to figure out what to say, but nothing seems good enough. After that night at your house, I've been…"

Sam stayed quiet, observing him, sensing how difficult this was for him.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, the words hanging heavily in the air. "I'm so damn sorry, Carter. For not being there… for not being the CO you deserved."

Sam's chest tightened, but she remained silent, letting him speak.

"I should've seen it coming. I should've done more to protect you. And I didn't." His voice cracked slightly. "I don't know if you'll ever forgive me despite what you wrote in that report and what you shared with me that night, but… I need you to know I'm here. For whatever you need. Even if it's just space."

Sam swallowed her throat tight. Since returning home and enduring the steady stream of visits from her team, she had been pushed out of her self-imposed isolation. Yet, back at the SGC, she kept her distance—avoiding their company and conversations. But now, seeing Jack in front of her, his pain so raw and visible, it was hard to cling to her anger. It wasn't his fault. She knew that. But knowing didn't erase the reality that they had all been trapped in a nightmare none of them could have prevented.

"I never wanted you to feel alone in this," Jack continued, his gaze dropping to the floor. "And I know I haven't been great at saying the right things. But I want you to know… I care. We all do. And we'll wait for you."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Jack shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck—a telltale sign of his discomfort. Sam could see how much this was costing him.

Before she could muster the strength to respond, Jack stepped back, his face a mix of frustration and resignation.

"I just… I'm sorry, Carter. For everything."

Without waiting for a response, Jack turned and moved toward the door.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She watched as he left, the door clicking shut behind him. The lab was suddenly too quiet, the weight of his apology pressing heavily on her chest.

She stood there, motionless, feeling the swirl of emotions. Jack had opened a door, and she wasn't sure she was ready to walk through it, but she couldn't deny the relief of hearing his words and knowing that he still cared. That they hadn't lost each other entirely.

Sam exhaled slowly, returning to her workbench, but her mind was far from the alien technology before her. Jack's apology lingered, tugging at something deep inside her—a reminder that healing wasn't just about her body. It was about everything else, too.

Sam's hand trembled slightly as she reached for her lab's last cup of blue Jello. It had been her comfort food since the attack, which felt constant and predictable. But now, she was out. And that meant going to the one place she had avoided like the plague—the cafeteria.

Her stomach tightened as she stood before the door, heart pounding. The rumors and whispers had followed her since she'd returned. It didn't matter that she knew she wasn't to blame. It didn't matter that weeks, more than a month, had passed already. She could still feel the weight of their stares, their hushed words slicing into her. The genius Major Samantha Carter, sexually assaulted off-world, reduced to whispers and pity.

She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The moment she entered, the room fell unnervingly quiet. Several teams were scattered across the tables, but the quiet rippled through them like a shockwave. Sam's eyes darted to the counter, focusing on her goal: blue Jello. She moved quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Her hand shook as she grabbed the cup, and it trembled even more as she reached for her wallet. The weight of the silence pressed on her, the whispers just beginning to stir when someone appeared at her side.

Daniel.

He slid a bill onto the counter before she could pay, his usual soft smile on his face.

"My treat," he said casually as if this were any other day.

Sam swallowed hard, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

"Thanks," she whispered, ready to make a quick exit. She didn't want to linger, not here.

But Daniel wasn't letting her go that easily.

"Hey, want to join us?" he asked, pointing to their usual table.

Sam's heart raced. Her instinct was to decline, to flee back to the safety of her lab. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the gentle look in Daniel's eyes or the fact that he wasn't treating her like a victim. Dr. Aldan always insisted that shestop blaming herself. She glanced over and saw Jack and Teal'c seated at the table, their faces a mixture of worry and hope.

They had given her space and respected her boundaries. And now… maybe it was time, as Dr. Aldan repeatedly told her.

She took a deep breath.

"Sure," she said, her voice barely audible.

As Sam approached the table, the room seemed to buzz with hushed voices. She heard a few whispers from the nearby table, sharp like knives cutting into her skin. Her steps faltered slightly, the impulse to run growing stronger.

But then, Teal'c turned, giving a pointed, menacing look toward the whispers. The room fell silent again, and Sam felt a small surge of relief.

She sat across from Jack, Daniel at her side, and Teal'c to her left. The tension was palpable, but for the first time, it didn't feel entirely suffocating.

Jack broke the silence first, his voice light but strained.

"Glad to see your taste in food hasn't changed, Carter," he said, nodding toward her Jello as he grabbed a piece of chocolate pie with apparent effort.

Sam managed a small smile, though her gaze fixed on the cup before her.

"Some things never change, Sir," she whispered.

Teal'c, always steady, looked at her with his usual calm presence.

"Indeed, Major Carter. But life on Earth has taught me that while some things remain constant, we possess the power to enact the changes we desire." His deep voice carried a gentle, reassuring weight. "If we truly wish to."

Sam almost choked on a piece of Jello, Teal'c's words hitting her harder than she expected. She coughed lightly, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

Daniel leaned in, offering her a napkin, his tone casual but kind.

"You okay?"

Sam nodded quickly, wiping her mouth. "Yeah… just… wasn't expecting that."

The table fell into a brief silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. They were all watching her, but it didn't feel like the pitying stares she had dreaded. It felt… patient like they were giving her the space to breathe.

Jack cleared his throat, his usual sarcasm creeping back in, though softer than expected.

"Good to see some things are the same. You and your Jello, me and my chocolate pie. Balance in the universe, right?"

Sam smiled faintly, her eyes still down. "Yeah, balance."

But it wasn't balanced. Not yet. What had happened still hung over them like a storm cloud. She could feel it in how Jack's jokes lacked their usual bite, in how Daniel kept glancing at her like he was waiting for something, and in Teal'c's quiet strength, always watching, always protective.

She pushed the Jello around in the cup with her spoon, suddenly feeling exposed.

"I, um… I haven't been around much," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "Just… needed time."

Daniel nodded immediately, his voice soft.

"We get it, Sam. Take as much time as you need. We don't mind being on the roaster."

Teal'c inclined his head, his deep voice unwavering.

"Your recovery is your own, Major Carter. There is no shame in seeking solitude when it is required. And if you wish, I can come to your house this weekend with another box of donuts that you appreciate so much. It would bring me much satisfaction."

Sam swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of their understanding. It was comforting but also made her realize how much she had isolated herself. Her fingers gripped the spoon tightly as she fought to control her emotions.

Jack, ever perceptive despite his usual aloofness, shifted slightly.

"No one's rushing you, Carter," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard. "We just… wanted you to know we're here. When you're ready."

The tension hung heavy, but something was different beneath it. Sam didn't feel entirely alone for the first time in a long while. The house visits, which initially felt like intrusions, eventually became a comfort. She had come to appreciate them, the way they interrupted her solitude, giving her a much-needed break from the relentless spiral of her thoughts. Now, as faint whispers floated from the table behind them, Teal'c's steady presence was enough to keep them at bay.

She exhaled slowly and looked up at her team.

"Thanks," she said, her voice steadying. "I… I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his tone dry but with a hint of a smile.

"Who said we were easy to be around?"

That earned a small laugh from Daniel.

"He's right, you know. We've missed you here, but we're all a mess sometimes."

Teal'c, ever calm, added, "We are strongest when we stand together, Major Carter. You are a vital part of our strength."

Sam swallowed hard, emotions bubbling to the surface. She wasn't ready to dive into everything, not yet. But for the first time in what felt like forever, sitting here with her team, she felt a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could return to her role in SG-1, and life would go on.

She took another breath, lifting her spoon.

"Well, at least I still have my Jello."

Jack smirked, glancing at his pie.

"And I've got my pie. See? Balance."

The others smiled, and the tension around the table eased slightly. Sam wasn't completely healed. The whispers would still hurt, and the stares would still sting, but she didn't feel quite so fragile.

For now, this was enough.

As General George Hammond left the Pentagon, the weight of his conversation with Jacob Carter still lingered. He'd given Jacob all the answersbutknewnothing would truly ease the man's pain. Hammond understood Jacob too well—he was relentless, especially regarding his daughter. Even though Sam and Jacob hadn't spoken much in recent years, Hammond knew that Jacob loved her fiercely. He just didn't know how to show it after the tragedy of his wife's death. His emotional unavailability left a chasm between him and Sam, but Jacob's paternal instincts returned to life in such moments.

Hammond had promised to keep Jacob informed, but he was fully aware of the "hot potato" now in his hands. If he wasn't careful, this could burn everyone involved. Jacob would demand more answers than he could provide, and once Jacob arrived at the SGC, the base's already tense atmosphere could be pushed to its breaking point.

At the base, Hammond's thoughts returned to his quiet yet ever-watchful presenceover everything. His leadership style was subtle observation—he didn't need to raise his voice or be at the center of every conflict to know what was happening. And he hadn't missed Richard Harris's attempts to sabotage Jack's career for personal gain or the act of treason he had committed by talking directly to Jacob Carter, who had no clearance about the Program. That was something he would deal withpersonally in due time. Harris clearly had his connections at the Pentagon, and Jacob certainly had his as well—but Hammond wasn't without his own. And his connections were powerful enough when it mattered.

Harris had started to worm his way closer to Sam just as her team pulled together again. Hammond could see it: Harris had tried to reignite old connections with his ex-wife, only for Sam to distance herself. Hammond suspected she'd sensed the same thing he had—Harris was using her.

Harris's professionalism or eagerness to impress during missions didn't fool Hammond. He'd seen the rivalry brewing between Harris and Jack. Harris was ambitious, and his ambition had started to show its ugly side. He'd disobeyed orders in the field, and while Hammond had been lenient so far, he knew he'd have to make a call soon. Jack had been through enough without someone undermining him for personal advancement. However, the tricky part was how deeply intertwined this was with Sam's recovery. She was still fragile, and he couldn't risk shaking the foundations of SG-1 at a time when they were just starting to regain their footing.

SG-1 had always been Hammond's pride, but recent months had tested the team's resilience. Sam's assault had nearly shattered them, but bit by bit, he saw them gathering around her again. Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c had rallied behind her, respecting her need for space while quietly standing by, ready when needed. Hammond admired their loyalty. Despite everything, they were reuniting again, rebuilding that fragile bond.

Yet amid this recovery, Harris was a wild card. Hammond had seen Harris's frustration, bitterness toward Jack, and the lengths he'd go to elevate his career. That much had become apparent. Harris didn't respect the chain of command the way Jack did. He was too eager to climb the ladder, and it was becoming more evident with each mission. The tension between Harris and Jack was palpable, and Hammond was now at the center of it all, tasked with navigating not just the aftermath of the mission but the complex dynamics playing out at the base.

And now, with Jacob Carter breathing down his neck, demanding explanations, and threatening to storm into Sam's life, Hammond had to find a way to protect everyone involved. He could only hope Jacob's arrival wouldn't unravel the fragile balance they'd begun to restore at the SGC. One wrong move, and he might have a disaster, not just for SG-1 but for the entire Stargate program.

He sighed, feeling the weight of leadership pressing down on him more heavily than usual. The path ahead was full of potential pitfalls, but Hammond had always been the steady hand, the quiet guide who watched over his people, trusting that they'd find their way.

But the stakes were higher this time, and the road ahead looked perilous. He had to be careful. Very careful.