AU: John and Sam are on the clock to get out of Colorado... but first they have to tell Samantha.
Chapter 34: On the clock
Friday, 19th March 2004 – 0120 hours – O'Neill Residence – John O'Neill
I couldn't believe the gall of Martin Kennedy providing us with a minivan. There was only one thing that would have made it worse. A white minivan. Since Martin had a sense of humour, even if you couldn't see it, the damned minivan was white, sported a 'Save the Whales' sticker and a row of white stick figure decals making a little family that in no way matched the drivers of the vehicle. Now I was all for saving whales, call it a kind of a passion… oh right… I rolled my eyes. Something I love combined with something I hate. I bet he laughed the whole time as he organised this ride for us.
Despite the hour nap I had had on the way back to Samantha and Jack's house, I was still dog tired, though I wasn't sure how much of that was because I'd been awake for nineteen hours or the shock to my system from whatever it was that Gracie had done. I hadn't said anything to anyone because frankly I didn't know how to tell them that I saw myself die. I saw Sam hellbent on trying to save me and I saw her crumble when Daniel forced her to stop after nearly ten minutes of CPR. I saw Gracie start to heal me; in fact I felt a tingly tugging sensation pulling me toward my body as her glow intensified. When she called out for help, what was left of me began to glow brightly as I watched streams of – I honestly didn't know, but let's call it lifeforce leaving the three men on the ground. The best way to describe it was three trails of golden mist converging on my body. Then she went Ancient for a mere moment, lashing out and taking those men's lives at the same time that the anchor drawing me in made one final tug that tethered me back to my consciousness while the coalesced mist healed my wound and breathed life back into my lifeless form.
It was entirely too confronting. My little girl killed men to save me. How does one reconcile that? Granted they were bad men, but still. There was no way I could tell anyone because, well they wouldn't believe me and if they did, those men kidnapped and hurt a three-year-old girl. You could say they got their comeuppance.
"We're here." Charlie announced from the front seat. He had insisted on driving. Looking out the darkened windows, I didn't immediately recognise where we were.
"Umm, Charlie. This isn't…"
"We're several houses down the road. Probably best your getaway vehicle is not seen at your house. I mean at her house." Charlie replied, once again confusing me with Jack.
"Right, good idea." Checking my watch, I noted that we had already blown the one-hour head start on our 24-hour countdown, but that was to be expected since that was how long it took to get to the Springs from Kiowa even without traffic at stupid o'clock in the morning.
"Let's do this." Sam ordered, opening the sliding door, and stepping out. Charlie had already walked around the van to scoop a still sleeping Grace into his arms.
"Daddy?"
"Shhh… Sleep baby girl." Charlie whispered soothingly. She smiled and closed her eyes again. Despite not seeing me, I felt her calmness radiating like a warm blanket wrapping around my body. I wondered if she could sense that I was here and alive.
The walk up to the house was quick, though Sam was lagging behind a little. Turning to look at her, she signalled that I was go inside first as Samantha was less likely to shoot me over anyone else save Grace or Jack. Turning the key in the lock, I pushed the door open as quickly as possible. Just a crack at first, then stopped and listened. The entire place was in darkness as you would expect at this time in the morning. Pushing the door open a little wider, I stepped inside then turned to signal when I heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking.
"Whoa, it's just me!" I whispered quickly, my voice jumping slightly.
"John?" She replied shakily, though I had not heard the safety engage on the pistol, so I didn't move a muscle. Being shot was never of my list of things to experience, getting shot twice in one night even further down that non-existent list.
"We have a little girl here who needs a hug." I told the darkness. An audible breath of relief combined with a little sigh and the sound of the safety flicking on was music to my ears. Suddenly my arms were full of Samantha, so I did what came naturally and wrapped her up in my embrace, then encouraged her to move out of the doorway to let Sam and Charlie, the latter still carrying a snoozing Grace, inside. The soft glow of the side table light bloomed bathing the living area in warm tones when Sam flicked it on.
"Daniel sent a text saying you were shot, but you're OK." She said as her hands roamed my body seemingly looking for injuries, but not in a motherly way. In fact, in a decidedly unmotherly way. It was all I could do to keep things under control. It didn't help that Sam was watching her with a massive smirk on her face, particularly when I smothered a groan and squeezed my eyes closed.
At length, Sam rescued me with a simple sentence. "He's fine, Samantha." Then looked straight at me with an order in her eyes – don't say anything – before speaking again. "Grace healed him. That is why she is groggy now." I could understand why she didn't want Samantha to know. She had lost her Jack, said a temporary goodbye to our Jack and was about to farewell her daughter for at least two months, maybe longer. Telling her that I was clinically dead would be counterproductive to our mission.
She let me go and walked into the lounge where Charlie had placed a sleepy Grace. She was kind of awake, but not really. Enough to insist on sitting up despite her little hand furiously rubbing at her eye. We followed her down to the lounge and watched momentarily while she cuddled Grace, her face buried in the little girls hair. Turning to Sam, I managed to get her attention in the low light of the room then tapped on the face of my watch. We were burning our timeline, and couldn't afford to dally here much longer, though I loathed to take Grace away from her mother so soon after she got her back.
"Samantha." Charlie said when he saw my motion on the watch. "Grace is still in danger."
"What! What do you mean she's still in danger?" Samantha demanded, pulling her daughter closer to her body.
"The men who took her, rather the man behind those who took her. It's Kinsey." He confided with a downtrodden expression. "Makepeace, our Makepeace…" he clarified, "…was taking his orders from Kinsey." Charlie explained, his Adam's Apple bobbing harshly while he licked his lips.
"What are you saying, Charlie? That the man who ordered my husband dead is the same man who kidnapped my daughter?" She asked, her own distress clearly evident in her voice.
"That's exactly what he is saying, Samantha." I interjected, since I sensed that she was about to let Charlie have it. While I didn't know the full story as it unfolded when she came through the mirror the second time, I remembered sensing something off about Charlie when I had been Jack, and we went through the mirror to save her universe. The way he spoke, both his words and his volume. It was as if the man had never worked black ops before which I knew not to be the case. Either that, or he was trying to get us caught, which ended up happening but not before Samantha jumped through the event horizon to the Asgard home world.
"We've been given 24 hours to get her to safety. Kinsey has spies in the Mountain, and he is watching the Cascade house. We already know that this house is not safe." Sam informed her.
"The cabin. We can take her to the cabin." Samantha stated with a look of determination on her face.
"No, we can't. You are needed here. The SGC…" Sam started,
"Can go to hell! My daughter's life is more important than some military base. I need to look after her. She's all I have left of Jack. I can't…" She said, then lost her momentum as tears raced down her cheeks as she hugged Grace closer to her.
"Mummy?" Gracie said quietly making Samantha look at her. "Daddy needs you to make messi-jez to floor." She garbled in her tired voice. "Floor likes Daddy and will help."
"Thor, Gracie. His name is Thor." Sam corrected her, but only after she could safely uncover her mouth.
"Oh, For." She repeated, then crinkled her nose and tried again, "Th-for." She smiled when I gave her two thumbs up. It wasn't completely right, but it was close enough.
"How long?" Samantha asked.
"Two months at least." I replied without skipping a beat.
"Right." She replied, then squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in the scent of her daughters hair as if to emblazon it on her sensory memory.
"John and I will take care of her Samantha, like our own." Sam stated as she took a seat beside Samantha. Charlie was still crouched in front of her, that left me as the only one standing. Samantha looked from the top of Gracie's head straight into my eyes.
"She is yours. She's always been yours." She told the Jack within me. I would be lying if I didn't admit – at least to myself – that her words made my heart flip end over end. Although I wasn't Jack, there was enough of him in me for her statement to be true. "She has a ready bag under her bed."
"It's a bug out bag, Mummy!" Grace announced tiredly making everyone in the room laugh at her indignant tone of voice. Charlie stood immediately and headed towards the back of the house. Gracie found her second wind and jumped up then followed him calling out for him to not forget Sparkles, allowing me to take my place on my knees in front of Samantha.
"I promise…" My eyes flicked to Sam, "…we promise to keep her safe. We won't be able to call you. If this house isn't already bugged, it will be soon. You can't tell anyone where it is that we have gone." I stated, making sure she knew that the actual location of the cabin could not be discussed. Minnesota was a moderately large state, and there were two Silver Creek's, but knowing that information narrowed it down considerably. O'Neill was a well-known name in my Silver Creek. It wouldn't take a genius to find us if they knew where to start looking.
Reaching her hands out, she grasped mine and squeezed while Sam gave support in the form of a hand on her shoulder. Samantha looked from me to Sam, then down to her lap. "I don't know if I can…" She stopped and dropped her head almost resting her chin on her chest.
"Hey." I said, moving one of my hands to her face. Sam immediately grasped her now free hand in an act of solidarity. "You are Samantha Carter. Kick arse astrophysicist, amazing mother, loving wife. You are brilliant at whatever it is you choose to do with your life. I have personally known three Sam Carter's, every one of them has blown my mind, and I love them all. Doctor, Colonel, Major." I confessed, seeing both Sam's smile. Even though I knew that technically Major Sam and Lieutenant Colonel Sam were the same person on the cosmic scale, for me they were different. One was a distant memory shadowed in loss stemmed from having to walk away from a life that could no longer be mine, the other was my partner, the woman I loved with my whole heart.
Leaning forward, I kissed Samantha's forehead making sure to pull back when I heard Gracie coming down the corridor. Giving her hands one last squeeze, I stood up and moved away, covertly using my knuckle to wipe at the tear before it could fall. Sam saw me, but she said nothing just like every time she ignored my emotion in the old days.
Grace immediately took her place on her mothers lap and hugged her fiercely, then burst into tears. "I don't want to go!" She blubbered, gripping to Samantha with all her might. The sight brought Sam to her knees emotionally to the point that she moved out of the living room to stand by the door.
"Oh, Sweetheart. I don't want you to, but we have to be strong and keep you safe from the bad man who wants to take Daddy away from us." Samantha replied through her own tears. "They don't care how much we love him and miss him."
"He's all alone in the cold place. He forgot to take Sparkles. I visited him and he's… he's…" Her choked cries drowned out whatever else it was she was trying to say. Samantha merely soothed her with a tender caress on her back and a whispered shushing sound I remembered making with a three-year-old Charlie after his pet rabbit had died. Despite Sara's wishes, I refused to lie to my child by telling him that Thumper ran away.
As much as I wanted to hole up in this house and deal physical damage to anyone who dared walk in here with the idea of taking our little girl, I knew our best chance of keeping her safe was somewhere away from here. With a heavy cough to clear my throat, I looked at the little girl who would become my sole focus. "Ready, Grace?"
Rather than answer my question with words, she nodded in a subdued manner, then looked at Samantha. "Bye Mummy." She said, then climbed down and walked over to me to take my hand. Looking up the corridor, I saw Charlie standing just by the entry to the dining area.
"Take care of her Charlie. Just…" He smiled,
"I know… not too much." He finished for me. I grinned and shook my head. He stepped forward and shook my hand firmly. "Believe me, I finally realise why I never stood a chance." He confessed, then crouched down to Grace's level. "You be good!" He said pointing his finger at her though wearing a smile.
"You be good, too!" Grace replied, then launched herself into his arms. "Bye, Uncle Charlie." Squeezing his eyes shut, he hugged her back and sniffed.
"Ah. God, now look what you've done. Go on, get out of here." He said with a tearful chuckle while trying to hide his tears. Like me, he never had been good about letting people see the softer side of his personality.
"You're a good man, Charlie." I replied as he came to his feet. We shook hands again, Sam hugged both him and Samantha, then we walked out the door ready to start our marathon drive south, east then north aiming to get as far out of the Springs before the sun rose.
