AU: Sam dreams of Jack and he gives her something important... but is it a dream or is it real?
TRIGGERS: Underage Consensual Sexual Content. If you do not wish to read this content, skip the section after the chapter break towards the end of the chapter.
Chapter 15: Citius Ibis
Sunday/Monday, 20th / 21st June 2004 – Cascade – General Sam Carter
"Hey." John caught my attention from the laptop screen. He smiled gently and reached for my hand. "It's gone 2300 hours. I'm going to bed. You've got a big day tomorrow." He said which was his way of saying 'don't stay up too late' without it sounding like an order. He had been so careful to not do that with me even if the odd demanding tone slipped out from time to time.
"I won't" I agreed. "I'll be up soon." I promised loosely. The points I wanted to bring up tomorrow with the SG-1 were noted down in a haphazard order of importance. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't miss anything since I expected there to be some opposition to the way I planned on assuming authority. Quickly and decisively. Colonel Dixon had informed me that Doctor Woolsey had taken up residence at the SGC with the sole purpose of kyboshing any plans Elizabeth tried to make that did not involve going after the ZPM. I wondered if Kinsey were pulling his strings from a place of safety, or if it was some kind of subterfuge on his part since the Woolsey in my time had always been above reproach. It wouldn't be the first time I had know him act in a certain way as a method for testing a person's integrity.
I watched as John made his way up the stairs, then turned back to the laptop screen. Typing one last thing, I saved and closed the document, then pulled up the other one. The one that I didn't want John to see. The one that presented my side of the story belonging to the young man I watched die. The document that I would leave for Jack. God, I was tired. Unfortunately this could not wait, so I dove back in and lost complete track of time as always.
"Carter, what are you doing?" He asked me.
Sitting up abruptly, "Nothing, Sir." I replied by rote just like I always did when he made himself at home in my lab, then looked around when I remembered I had no lab. Everything was normal, but weird with a type of shimmer across it and a few other things that looked out of place.
"Over here, Sam." He spoke again.
"Jack?" I called out, coming to my feet but noticing that there was a shadow of myself with my head laying on my arms, asleep on the dining table while the coloured bubbles of the Windows screensaver bounced around my screen. Then I noticed the Ancient chair by the fireplace and behind that the sleeping pod with… I covered my mouth when I saw him frozen in place just like I remembered. He stood beside the pod in all his golden splendour, hands in his pockets and that smile.
"Falling asleep while working again. Never could break you of that habit." He commented on my propensity to ignore the basic needs of sleeping and eating, particularly when the safety of the world was at stake, or the project was interesting, or even remotely not boring and lonely unlike my life outside the mountain. Away from him.
"Am I dreaming?" I asked as I slowly approached him, desperate to reach out but afraid that he wasn't real because he couldn't be. This had to be a dream.
"Yes, and no. I'm not quite clear on where we are either." He looked around the room. "I mean it looks like your place, but also…" His eyes fell on the stasis pod and his frozen form. "Well… that." He motioned with his hand towards his home away from home.
"Sir?" I asked without actually voicing a question.
"Carter. Are you really going to Sir me after what we did together? Hmm." He commented with a wry smile while his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his not really there BDU shirt. I smiled sheepishly and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. That night had been the hottest of my life, leaving me sated and deliciously sore in a very good way rather than sore because I was – or rather had been – an old woman.
"Well… yeah, cos you like it." I replied and saw his golden-brown eyes darken attractively while the smirk grew on his face.
"Ah!" He murmured shortly, "Yes, well… turns out I… and therefore he… has a kink." The wave of his hand referring to John, because of course a cloned version of him would be the same in that regard.
"Me too, Sir. What did you think I meant by arm-wrestle?" I confessed with raised eyebrows, then ducking my head when the colour in his cheeks changed ever so slightly.
"Oh… oh… right… well… damn. I guess." He responded while tugging at his lower lip with his finger and thumb. I couldn't stop the giggle from bursting forth which earned me the standard 'no giggling Carter' glare. Suddenly he stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I'm getting to it, for crying out loud!" He barked then mumbled something inane about not interfering – yeah right – at whoever was behind him out of sight making me jolt at the decidedly not-dream part of this dream.
"Umm… Sir… is Gracie with you again?" I asked.
"What? Oh… er… no. Owna… Una… Marsala." He informed me nonchalantly, then stumbled forward a little like one would if they were shoved from behind. "Hey! Quit that." I laughed out loud, the sound a curious vibration that could almost be seen on the fabric that made up my dream, like ripples in a pool of water.
"Oma Desala, Sir?" I corrected him. He smiled cheekily which gave me my answer. "So… not strictly speaking a dream?" I motioned around the room with my hand. He shook his head. "Right. Did Oma explain how you are here?" Because all I had were theories or loose ideas and most of them based on pseudo-sciences rather than actual peer accepted scientific premises.
"Oh, I'm sure she tried… with lots of big sciency words and explanations. Bet she's wishing I was Daniel right now." He mocked and threw a look over his shoulder at the Ancient woman I could not see.
"What kind of words?" I surged on, deciding not to let his banter with her mean anything other than he was messing with her.
He coughed and winced, "Mostly time is a river, ripples expanding, butterfly wings beating… yada, yada…" He rolled onto his toes then back to his heels, once, twice, three times before speaking again. "Astral, projection…" He stopped and scratched his head before giving me his 'light bulb' moment face, "…oh and bilocation." He added with the same suave smile he wore whenever he got something right. There was no way I could stop the bright smile from forming on my face.
"Not magnets, Sir?" I interjected at which point his look softened and chin tilted.
"Aww, there it is." He said softly, "I've always loved that smile. I've missed it. So much." Then he was right in front of me, his hand on my face creating tingles that I remembered from our kiss in the bathroom. "So beautiful." He whispered. My lip quivered as I tried to look away, but he didn't let me hide. Neither did he. Everything was there. Laid bare. Like I had never seen from him before. The big problem is that it was for her. The other me. Both of them. The one's who let him love them.
"No. I'm not. I'm old. The Carter you love is from another time." I whispered as the tingles of tears that would never fall, could not fall in this place filled my eyes. His expression filled with something akin to understanding. Why could I not have seen this side of him in my time? Why had I let myself be blinded by fear and doubt, convincing myself he didn't care more than he should anymore?
"You know that time is a river stuff?" He said, his hand moving from my face and into my hair creating a fiery trail of sensation. "Well, when Samantha and I… you know…" He motioned with his chin and waited until I nodded my head, "…she… we inexplicably linked our realities together by making Grace. According to Oma."
"You are talking about destiny, which is a cliché and…"
"Hm-huh. And you know how I feel about those." He interrupted with his affirmative face. "You were meant to cut contact when you did, and as much as it hurts me that you suffered, if it weren't for you, I never would have known love like I do now. Like I did with the Major. And John…" He stopped, almost as if he knew, but that was impossible. He couldn't know. Could he?
"I have to tell you something. About John." I blurted out, desperate to make sure that his destiny wasn't filled with unspeakable suffering. I wanted him to know about the plan that was in motion for his clone, how they would strip him bare and use him up until he could give no more.
"Shh…" He soothed, "I won't remember anything you tell me. I'm struggling even now, but this… this is important." He lifted my hand and placed something into it, then held on. "I don't know what it does… I mean, I do know… but I can't…"
"…remember." I finished for him then looked down at the perfect oval shaped stone that looked like compressed white opal. It was the size of my palm. "You've got nothing?" I prompted hoping he could give me something.
"Citius ibis." He said in Ancient as both him and the dreamscape started to fade.
"Jack! What was that? What do you mean?" I cried out as my free hand tried to grip onto him, feeling nothing but thin air.
"Aveo, mei thessara civicus." He said finally as everything golden lifted plunging me into darkness. {Goodbye, my national treasure.}
"Sam!" John called out, his hand shaking my shoulder.
"Jack!" I almost screamed as I sat up so quickly my head spun. It was completely dark. No fire – because it was summer. No golden light. No Ancient chair. No sleeping pod.
"Hey. You're OK. I'm here." He soothed as I shook from the sheer exertion caused by the panic racing through my system. I could feel the stone in my hand, and I was trying to reconcile how something could move from a dream world into the real world.
"No, I mean… I know." I turned and looked at him. "I dreamed of Jack. He was here. And not here." I squeezed my eyes closed trying desperately to not lose the memory of being with him. "He wants to help us. I think."
"OK. How? He's ah… not exactly in the required state." John replied carefully. Rather than try to describe something that I had no hope of explaining, I opened my hand. My eyes fell on the white crystalline egg-shaped stone. It had an ambient light of its own that glowed softly.
"What is that?" John asked and reached for it. "Oh, wow…" He quickly put it down on the table when the glow turned bright white with swirling colours, and it returned to the soft white humming glow.
"I don't know." I said as I quickly opened a blank notepad document and racked my brain to remember what he said. With my eyes closed, I focused on our conversation and felt my fingers begin their practiced glide over the keyboard, tapping out the words he said to me in another language.
"Citius ibis. Make you go faster?" John read out over my shoulder.
"Is that really what it says?" I sought to clarify as my fingers shook in their poised position over the keys. Faster. We already had the modified Tel'tak, but I had no idea how this little white stone could make that faster. It was already on its final legs after Jack had overtaxed its crystals and engines with the Praclarush Taonas run.
Then there were the other words.
Part of me wanted to write the second phrase, but the other half of me didn't. I knew two of the words were goodbye and my, as for the other two, I wasn't entirely sure.
"Well, I think so." He scratched his chin thoughtfully much like Daniel habitually did when explaining things. I wondered if Jack suspected just how much of our archaeologist team member had rubbed off on him. I smiled at the thought that John either couldn't suppress it or chose not to. "Citius literally translates to 'faster', I'm guessing the rest. Is that all he said?" He asked in earnest.
"Yes." I replied quickly. Too quickly. He raised his eyebrow at my hasty answer. He gazed at me with soulful eyes that were all Jack until I relented. "No. He said goodbye… and…" I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes. "What does tes-sah-rah ci-vi-coos mean?" I asked making sure I pronounced the words slowly before opening my eyes and turning them on him. He smiled slowly and sincerely.
"National Treasure." John's translation was the last straw holding back the torrent of emotion. The very words Jack had used to describe me in his lounge a long time ago in a time far far away. My figurative heart combusted pouring out a lifetime of love and grief and despair. The tears closely followed. John pulled me up from my seated position and wrapped me into a tight Jack O'Neill bear hug just like Jack had done when we lost Janet. Memories of losing him to the chair during my timeline and my inability to push away everything I felt for him consumed me. "Shh. It's OK. We'll get him back." John soothed as he held me. "C'mon, let's go to bed."
"OK." I nodded into his neck. Then I let him steer me to the stairs and guide me up to the second floor of the house that was technically no longer mine.
During our walk, it occurred to me that should John discover that the mission to find Jack posed a very real danger to my life, he would not let me go or he would insist on accompanying me. Everything was relative. We would leave earlier but might not find Thor as fast if we didn't enter the gravity well of the Halla blackhole. Last time, he found us just in time but only because he was close by. He might not be close enough to save us if we were early, so dropping out into the gravitational field was unsound. Not that dropping into the vicinity of a gravitational singularity was ever a sound idea.
"You know, I can practically hear your brain ticking over." He chuckled as we reached the bedside and sat down.
Rather than answer him, I slipped my hand into his unruly hair and tugged him forward for a kiss. The eagerness had not abated with his ageing, and I now knew that this was a unique thing to the O'Neill boys, more specifically unique where the Carter ladies were involved. I had learned a lot of things about my former CO in Minnesota, things I had no right to know as his subordinate. John had no desire to keep those things hidden, and it occurred to me that this may be one of the last times we had together because after tomorrow, I would technically be his CO. Kennedy had made it clear that John would be issued with orders with or without my help, it was just a matter of time.
It did not take long for John to have my nightdress scrunched up and off over my head, though when he tried to remove his shirt, it tangled in his rebellious hairdo making him growl with aroused frustration. As much as it loathed me to calendarise our bedroom activities, at my age, even the new one, I found I simply could not keep up with his drive. So Friday night became a night of passionate fun. Only last Friday we were travelling, and my kiss had been his green light.
"You need a haircut." I commented just before his shirt came loose. Once it did, his lips found mine and my fingers found his hair again and he struggled with his pants using only one hand.
"Hm-huh… yep." He murmured as we kissed.
"Need to shave as well." I added when he took a break to breathe.
"Later…" He growled and buried his face into my shoulder while he kicked off the remnants of his pyjamas from around his feet.
I let out a giggle as he moved south rapidly, paying harried yet absolute attention to each area of my body that he confessed to loving despite its wrinkled visage and lack of tautness. When he reached his ultimate destination with tongue and fingers, I couldn't stop the laboured gasp and little grunting hiss from escaping my lips. His head popped up.
"Shit, Sam. I am so… sorry!" He said quickly with a grimace and a look of utter despair at the fact that he forgot that things took longer to work for me than they did for him.
"I'm OK. I just…" I half responded just as quickly as I reached my fingers for his tangled locks, while my eyes flicked to the bedside cabinet where we kept our supply of lubricants. "Sometimes being old sucks." I said by way of explanation. The first few weeks when things were new and exciting had been fine, but we soon discovered that that had been the exception rather than the norm. He came home one afternoon with five different tubes and bottles of lubricant when he played on the teenager role and told the overzealous shopkeeper that he wanted his girlfriend to enjoy herself as much as he did.
"Yeah well, being a teenager isn't exactly peachy. I'm horny all the damn time." He said while crawling up over me and resting lightly on my upper thighs and his knees, then leaned over to open the drawer to retrieve my favourite bottle of unscented natural lubricant.
I chuckled. "According to Samantha, that is just you and nothing to do with your age." He grinned broadly while squeezing a generous amount of liquid into the palm of his hand before putting the bottle back. Rubbing his hands together, he smiled and delicately touched my nipples then traced small circles around my areola making me gasp and breath in, the sound jumping in the back of my throat.
"Maybe it's me…" he said with a smile, his fingers swirling spirals down my ribcage to my stomach making my belly jiggle and twitch when I giggled. Quarter of an hour later, John rolled to the side.
"Aren't I supposed to make you finish twice?" He asked with a loopy satisfied smile on his face.
"In your dreams, buster. That boat has sailed a long time ago. Besides you'd pass out from coming too much if you did manage that feat." I made a dig about his inability to last longer than a few minutes.
"Yep. Best way to pass out if you ask me. We should try it once." He said sleepily then yawned audibly and pulled me towards him. "I'll borrow a defib from Janet, just in case." He commented, making a dig at my age.
"Sounds like a plan." I murmured with a smile as I closed my eyes and snuggled up to him, sighing as his soft snores lulled me to sleep.