"The Ark of Truth"
The year following Jack's move to Washington D.C. to assume his role as Head of Homeworld Security, the Ori threat loomed ever larger, casting a shadow over the galaxy. Their followers, zealous in their devotion, continued to convert world after world, using fear and intimidation to spread their doctrine of Origin. Each day brought new reports of the Ori army's growing power, and SG-1—led by Sam—found themselves at the forefront of the fight.
Despite the growing danger, Sam's resilience shone through as she quickly consolidated her position as a strong leader. Her sharp mind and fierce dedication made her indispensable, and under her guidance, SG-1 was relentless in their pursuit of answers. Time and again, they faced the Ori's Priors, whose ominous threats of destruction weighed heavily on their missions. The team pushed forward, determined to learn more about the Ori's true nature, gathering intelligence on their technology, their ships, and, most importantly, their weaknesses.
However, with every step forward, the Ori advanced. As their influence spread, resistance became more difficult. Entire worlds fell under the Ori's control, with many civilizations either submitting to their rule or facing annihilation. The galaxy was on the brink, and Sam knew the consequences would be catastrophic if they didn't find a way to stop the Ori , the team's determination remained unshaken, a testament to their unwavering spirit in the face of overwhelming odds.
The distance between them tested Sam and Jack's relationship during this time. Jack had settled into his new position in D.C., though he despised the city. For him, D.C. was a stark contrast to the life he had known at the SGC. The bureaucratic environment of the Pentagon was suffocating—filled with politics and meetings that drained his energy. He missed the actionandthe day-to-day challenges of being on the front lines. But more than anything, he missed Sam.
It felt like a breath of fresh air whenever Sam visited him in Washington. In those moments when they were together, it was as if the world outside didn't matter. Jack lived for those visits, each a reminder of what they were fighting for. But when Sam returned to Colorado, he was left in the city he hated, waiting for the next time they could be distance, the longing, and theuncertainty of their future weighed heavily on them, threatening to overshadow their shared purpose.
Marriage was a word they never spoke again. She never told him what she felt about it, and he didn't ask again. He could wait.
Jack adapted to his role, but he never loved it. His heart remained with the SGC, Sam, and the team he had led for so long. He hated being behind a desk, hated the layers of bureaucracy that often slowed critical decisions. But he knew his work was important—he had a hand in securing the planet's safety on a different front, and that, at least, gave him some solace. Jacob had been right when he advised him to take the job and keep protecting the ones he loved. Like Hammond, he had retired, and the three played golf on the weekends more than once.
Still, Washington felt like a prison without Sam, and he often wondered if this was indeed what his life would be from now personal sacrifices he made for the greater goodand the nights spent alone in a city he despised all took a toll on him.
Meanwhile, Sam continued to excel, becoming even more of a force to be reckoned with. As Jack had predicted, she thrived as a leader, balancing the responsibilities of SG-1 with the growing weight of the Ori threat. She was methodical, always several steps ahead, but even with her brilliance, she felt the strain of the distance between them. She often wondered if they could continue like this, living apart and seeing each other only sporadically. It felt like their lives were moving in parallel rather than intersecting.
It wasn't until SG-1 discovered the existence of the Ark of Truth—an ancient device capable of revealing the truth about the Ori—that hope began to surface. The Ark could convince the Ori's followers that their gods were false, something no amount of force or diplomacy had been able to achieve. It was the breakthrough they had desperately needed.
With this knowledge, SG-1 set out on their most dangerous mission yet: to travel to the Ori galaxy in search of the Ark. Sam, leading her team with precision knew the stakes were higher than ever. This mission wasn't just about defeating the Oriandsaving the galaxy from their influence.
The journey was fraught with danger, and there were moments when even Sam doubted they would succeed. They faced numerous obstacles, from hostile alien encounters to the treacherous conditions of space travel. But her resolve never wavered. She had to believe in their missionand think they could end the Ori's reign of terror. This unshakable determination, coupled with the unwavering support of her team, kept SG-1 moving forward despite the overwhelming odds.
In the end, their efforts paid off. They found the Ark of Truth and activated it, revealing the truth to the Ori's followers. The Ori's power was broken, andtheir armies disbanded as their followers realized the gods they had worshipped were not what they seemed. It was a hard-won victory that brought a profound sense of relief to an entire galaxy, a relief that was palpable in the air.
By 2007, the Ori were gone, and peace—however fragile—was restored. But for Sam, the war's end marked the beginning of a new chapter, not just for the galaxy but for her relationship with Jack. Despite the distanceand the challenges they had faced, they had managed to keep their long-distance relationship alive. There had been moments of doubt, moments when the strain of living apart threatened to pull them apart, but in the end, they had always found their way back to each other.
Jack, for all his grumbling about D.C., had come to terms with his role as Head of Homeworld Security. He was proud of his work, even if it wasn't the life heenvisioned for himself. But what made it all worth it was knowing that Sam was by his side, even if she wasn't always physically present. They had survived the Ori, and now, they had to endure the next challenge—building a life together, no matter where their paths led them.
As Sam sat in her lab, reflecting on all they had been through, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of Jack. They had been tested repeatedly, yet here they were—stronger than ever. And though there were still unanswered questions about their future, one thing was sure: they were bound by something deeper than fate.
Jack sat in his office at Homeworld Security, staring down at the piece of paper that could change everything—not just for him, but for Sam. His fingers tightened around the edges, crumpling them slightly as a curse escaped his lips.
"Fuck."
He had known this day would come. Sam was too damn good at her job, too capable, too brilliant to stay in one place forever. She deserved the promotion. Hell, she more than earned it. But this? This was bigger than anything he'd imagined. Just when he thought they'd finally get a break—when the Ori had been defeated, and he had hoped she might even get a transfer to the Pentagon, allowing them to close the distance between them—this had landed on his desk.
Jack closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. In what felt like another lifetime, he'd told her oncethat he'd support her no matter what if she were promoted and had to leave. He meant it. But he hadn't expected this.
He dropped the paper on his desk, rubbing his temples.
"Goddamn it," he muttered under his breath.
The offer wasn't just any promotion. The command of Atlantis—the International Oversight Advisory (IOA) wanted Sam to replace Elizabeth Weir, who had disappeared after being captured by the Asurans. Commanding Atlantis was a career-defining post, but it was a galaxy away. And as much as Jack tried to rationalize it, the thought of Sam being so far from him—again—was enough to twist his gut.
He couldn't do this over the phone. No way in hell. This conversation required more than words spoken through a line.
Picking up his phone, Jack called his secretary.
"Get me a flight to Colorado Springs as soon as possible," he ordered, his voice clipped and sharp.
"Right away, General," came the crisp reply.
Jack hung up, feeling the tension knotting in his shoulders. He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and took a long breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Sam had asked him once how he'd feel if she got promoted. The moment had come, and now he had to tell her—face to face.
The flight to Colorado Springs was quiet, giving Jack too much time to think. He stared out the window as the clouds drifted beneath the plane, his mind racing through the possible outcomes. He replayed their conversations, the moments they had spent together, wondering how Sam would react when he dropped this bombshell. He wanted to believe she'd be excited, proud—but the reality of what it meant hung heavily between them.
When the plane touched down, Jack wasted no time. His arrival at the SGC was met with formalities, salutes, and respectful nods, but he barely acknowledged them. His thoughts were only on Sam. He made his way to her lab, his steps purposeful but heavy.
The door slid open, and Sam looked up, startled to see him standing there. Her face lit up in surprise.
"Jack? I mean, General, what are you doing here?"
He gave her a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thought I'd drop by," he said, his voice casual, but the tension in his body was hard to miss. "Been a while."
Sam stood up, walking over to him, the excitement of seeing him starting to stir her thoughts.
"You could have called, Sir," she teased lightly, though her gaze searched his for more. "Not that I'm complaining." Her smile grew softer as she stepped closer. "I was thinking we could skip dinner, you know? Just head home?"
Jack chuckled, but the sound was strained.
"As tempting as that is, Carter, we should have dinner. There's something we need to talk about."
Her brow furrowed at his tone, the familiar edge of command slipping in. She could tell there was more going on.
"Okay," she said slowly, giving him a curious look but not pushing. "Dinner it is, General."
The restaurant Jack chose was quietandintimate, but Sam could feel the tension radiating off him throughout the meal. His eyes kept darting to her, and there was a weight in his voice whenever he spoke. She tried to ignore it, focusing on making small talk, but the unease settled deep in her gut.
Finally, after too many pleasantries and sidelong glances, Jack put down his fork and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. His fingers drummed against the white cloth.
"Sam," he began, his voice low but serious. "There's something I need to tell you. It's important."
Sam froze her fork halfway to her mouth. The way he said it made her heart skip a beat.
"What's going on, Jack?" she asked, her tone softer now, almost afraid of what he was about to say.
He exhaled, leaning back in his chair as if bracing himself for her reaction.
"The IOA… They've recommended you for the next command of Atlantis."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy, suffocating. Sam stared at him, her mind racing but struggling to catch up.
"Atlantis?" she repeated her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack nodded, his expression grim.
"They want you to replace Elizabeth Weir. It's… it's a big deal, Sam. You'd be the commanding officer of an entire city—another galaxy. You'll be promoted to full bird Colonel."
Sam just stared at him for a long moment, her thoughts colliding, unable to form anything coherent. The restaurant around them faded into the background, the noise and the clinking of glasses all but disappearing. All she could hear was Jack's voice, repeating those words in aloop in her mind.
She was going to command Atlantis. The promotion was happening. And she'd be light-years away from everything—and Jack.
Sam swallowed hard, feeling emotions crash over her, but none found their way out. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but no words came.
The silence between them stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, Sam pushed back her chair and stood abruptly. Jack's eyes widened in surprise as she stepped away from the table, her face pale, her expression blank.
"Sam?" Jack's voice cracked, and his tone was uncertain.
But she didn't respond. Without a word, Sam turned and walked out of the restaurant, leaving Jack sitting there, staring after her in stunned silence.
The moment's weight crashed down on him harder than he'd expected.
Jack barely registered the stares from the other diners as he tossed some bills on the table, his movements hurried and clumsy. The unfinished dinner sat abandoned, but all that mattered now was Sam. He rushed out of the restaurant, his mind racing. He hadn't expected her to react like that—not that he could blame her. Commanding Atlantis? Hell, it was a lot to take in.
Outside, the night air was cool, but it did little to ease the heat of anxiety rising in his chest. He found her pacing near her car, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the parking lot. Jack slowed his steps as he approached, unsure of how to start. The weight of his mistake pressed heavily on his shoulders.
"Sam..." he began cautiously, his voice soft but strained. "I'm sorry. The restaurant—it was a bad idea. I shouldn't have told you like that."
She stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes icy and sharp as they met his.
"Don't say?" The words were cold, biting, cutting through him more than he cared to admit.
Jack swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say next, but their silence stretched awkwardly. After a beat, she opened the car door without another wordand slipped inside. Jack followed, getting into the passenger seat. Neither spoke as she drove them home in total, suffocating silence.
When they arrived home, Sam didn't waste a second. She headed straight for their bedroom, her movements stiff and angry. The door slammed behind her with a loud bang that echoed through the house, leaving Jack alone in the hallway. He let out a long, frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through his hair.
Great job, O'Neill, he thought bitterly.
He shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, hoping it might help calm his nerves. But as he leaned against the counter, the cold bottle in his hand, he couldn't shake the tension in his gut. The conversation hadn't gone near how he'd planned, and now, he wasn't sure how to fix it.
He stood there for an eternity, the clock ticking in the background, the only sound from an otherwise silent house. His mind replayed the look on her face—the shock, the disbelief, and the distance that had suddenly sprung up between them. He took another swig of beer, trying to drown the gnawing frustration.
After more than half an hour, Jack heard soft footsteps. He turned to see Sam standing near the wall. She had changed into just a T-shirt and shorts, her hair slightly messy, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Sometimes, you are such an asshole, Jack," she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge that cut through him.
He agreed. "I know," he muttered, his voice quiet.
Sam crossed her arms, her body tense as she stared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier? Why did you wait until we were out, surrounded by people? Did you think that would make it easier for me to hear? Or were you scared I would throw a fit like a hysterical teenager and choose a public place to avoid that?"
Jack sighed, setting the bottle down on the counter.
"I thought... I don't know. Maybe I thought it would soften the blow andgive us some distance from... this." He gestured between them, feeling the weight of every mistake.
"Well, it didn't," she snapped, her voice rising. "This isn't just some small promotion, Jack. This is my entire life—my career, everything we've been trying to figure out, and you drop this on me like it's just another piece of news."
"I didn't know how to tell you," Jack admitted, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I didn't want to hurt you, Sam."
"Hurt me?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "You think I care about the promotion? It's not the job—it's Atlantis, Jack. Another galaxy. Another goddamn galaxy. And you didn't think I deserved more time to process that?"
They stared at each other, the tension crackling between them. Jack felt the sharp sting of her words, knowing deep down she was right. But there was no way to go backor undo how he'd handled things. The silence stretched out, thick and unbearable.
"I know I've messed up, but the IOA didn't want me to tell you. You are supposed to receive a call and report to D.C. to meet Wolsey for the formal interview. I just…I couldn't wait and let you in the dark," he admitted.
Sam shook her head, her voice softer now, filled with frustration and exhaustion.
"I can't talk about this right now. I need... I need to think."
With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving Jack standing there, alone with his guilt and the bitter taste of beer on his tongue. He cursed and poured the rest of the beer down the sink. He couldn't leave things like this. Not tonight.
He followed her to the bedroom, unsure what to say but knowing he couldn't let her go to bed with this unresolvedness between them. As he opened the door, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, lost in thought.
"Sam," he started quietly, stepping inside, "I know I mishandled this. I know it's a lot, but we must discuss it."
Sam turned to face him, her expression unreadable.
"I told you, I can't talk about it right now."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair again.
"Okay. But... I'm not going anywhere tonight."
Without another word, Jack walked over to the bed and sat beside her. The tension between them lingered, heavy and unspoken. There was no intimacy, no comfort—just the weight of the situation hanging over them. He could feel her presence next to him, the warmth of her body, and the closeness that had once brought them so much peace. Now, it was a reminder of the distance that had formed between them.
They lay in bed, side by side, but worlds apart, staring silently at the ceiling. The longing was there, the wanting, but the chasm between them kept growing. Jack could feel the tension in every breath she took; her body was rigid beside his as if she were trying to hold everything in. He reached out once, his hand brushing hers, but she didn't respond.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed them both, their bodies giving in to the day's weight. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, but it was all they had.
The following day, Jack stirred, his body aching from the tension that had kept him awake for most of the night. The first thing he noticed was Sam's warmthbeside him—her arm draped over his chest, her hand resting gently on his neck. She was clinging to him in her sleep, the contact more intimate than anything they had shared the night before.
For a moment, he lay still, his heart pounding as he looked down at her, the familiar ache of love mixed with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Sam's eyes fluttered open, and she found him watching her. They stayed like that for a few seconds, her gaze soft but conflicted, the quiet tension between them stretching.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say—at least not yet.
Eventually, Sam pulled away, slowly moving her arm from his chest as she shifted to the side of the bed. Jack watched her, the silence heavy with everything they hadn't said, with everything they were still trying to figure out.
The room was filled with the soft, strained silence of two people wrestling with the weight of unspoken words. Early morning light trickled through the blinds, casting faint streaks of pale gold across the bed.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I truly am," he apologized. It was the only thing he could do now: apologize and hope she would forgive him.
Jack's apology hung in the air, settling in the space between them like a fragile truce. Sam turned to look at him, her expression unreadable.
"You disobeyed orders by telling me?" she asked softly, her voice carrying a weight of both accusation and understanding.
Jack nodded, his eyes dropping. "I guess," he admitted, his tone resigned.
She sighed and looked down at her hands, fingers fidgeting in her lap. The room still felt cold with the remnants of the night air, and she pulled the blanket closer, leaning back against the headboard. Her voice was steady but distant when she finally spoke.
"So, we had a communication problem. Not the first time, probably not the last," she murmured, still focused on her hands. "But Atlantis is in the Pegasus galaxy, Jack," she continued slower this time, letting the magnitude of the distance settle between them.
Jack shifted beside her, mirroring her position against the headboard.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Too damn far."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Sam reached out and took his hand. Jack responded immediately, gripping hers tightly as if holding on to something they both feared was slipping away.
He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing across her knuckles as though trying to convey through touch what words couldn't. His chest tightened with the effort to keep calm, not to let his feelings, his fears, break through the surface. The truth was that he hated this—hated the distance that lay between them now and the infinitely greater distance that might soon stretch across galaxies. But he couldn't—wouldn't—ask her to give it up for him.
Sam, still sitting against the headboard, seemed far away. Her gaze wasfixed on her lap, where her other hand absentmindedly played with the edge of the blanket. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet but firm, and the resolve andconflict wereall too evident in every word.
"Jack," she said, her voice soft but steady, "we've faced many challenges, you and I, but this one... it's different. This isn't just another mission. This is years. And another galaxy." Her voice cracked on the last word as if the reality of the distance was only now sinking in.
Jack felt the crackle of tension run down his spine like static before a storm.
"I know, Sam," he said quietly, his voice rough. "I know it's different. But what am I supposed to do? Ask you to stay? Ask you to give up Atlantis and everything you've worked for? That's not fair."
"What's not fair is me leaving you behind," Sam countered, finally turning her head to face him. Her eyes searched his face, trying to gauge his true feelings. "What's not fair is asking you to just sit here on Earth while I—"
"While you save another galaxy?" Jack cut in, his voice more bitter than he intended. "You've always been the hero, Sam. You've always had the bigger picture. I know that. And I want you to have this. But don't think for a second that it doesn't tear me apart to think about you out there, so far away."
Sam's grip tightened around his hand, and for a moment, she pressed her forehead against his shoulder, the weight of her unspoken fears finding refuge in his presence. The seconds ticked by as they sat there, neither daring to speak, both knowing that whatever they said next would change the trajectory of everything.
"I'm scared, Jack," Sam whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm scared of what it means for us. For me. For you. I don't want to lose you." Her words were raw, stripped of the protective layers she so often wrapped around herself. She was laying it all out—her vulnerability, love, and fear.
Jack closed his eyes, the weight of her admission pressing against his heart like a vice. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her either, but he knew—he knew—that holding her back wasn't an option. Sam wasn't built to stay grounded. She was made for the stars, for the impossible. To ask her to stay would be to ask her to be someone she wasn't, and Jack couldn't do that.
"You won't lose me, Sam," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'll be here. No matter where you are. I'll be here. And yeah, it's going to suck. It's going to be hard as hell. But we've gotten through worse. We can get through this, too."
Sam sat up, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes again.
"And what if we can't? What if this is the thing that breaks us?"
Jack stared at her, the words like a punch to the gut. What if? He hadn't thought about thator let his mind wander to the worst-case scenarios. But now, hearing her say it, the fear gripped him too.
"Then we fight like hell to make sure it doesn't," he replied, his voice firmer now, more resolute. "We don't give up. We don't walk away. And yeah, I hate the idea of you being so far away. I hate the idea of not seeing you every day, not being able to hold you, but Sam..." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time, and I'll love you whether you're here or across the damn universe. That's not going to change."
Sam blinked, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"And if it does change? If distance... if time..."
"It won't," Jack interrupted. He wouldn't let her spiral into the 'what ifs.' "We're stronger than that. You're stronger than that. And whatever happens, we'll face it together. I'm not going anywhere, Sam."
She just looked at him for a long moment, her heart in her throat. Then, slowly, she nodded, releasing a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
"I don't want to leave you," she whispered, the confession filled with heartbreak that only comes from knowing you might have to. "But I don't want to give up Atlantis either."
Jack leaned his forehead against hers, their hands still locked together.
"Then don't," he whispered. "Don't give up either. We'll figure it out. We always do."
As they sat in the early morning light, with the galaxy's weight pressing down on them, they both knew the truth: they were heading into uncharted territory butweren't facing it alone. Not as long as they had each other.