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Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night when she climbed into bed next to him.  The flight from the Springs had been late and long, and she undressed as quietly as possible as to not awake him.  She sunk down into the mattress and suppressed her sigh of contentment.  Even if he wasn’t awake, even if he was so tired himself to notice her entry, this was his bed and she could smell him all around.  The comfort it brought her after her week of hell was enough to lull her into a comfortable sleep.

Her body woke her before dawn, as it always did.  Product of the military life, she supposed.  Blinking twice she remembered where she was.  Turning, she reached for him, sliding her left hand up his back and around to his chest, spooning comfortably behind him.  She buried her head in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply.  She had missed him so much.  They really had to find a better arrangement.  Washington D.C. and Colorado Springs were clearly too far.  He shifted and turned, startled that she was behind him. 

He cleared his throat.  “Carter... Sam?”

 “Hey,” she kissed his bare chest and moved in to hug him, but he sat up and shifted slightly away.

“What are you doing here?” He said, still squinting to see her, clearly confused.

“I thought I’d surprise you... came in late, didn’t want to wake you.”

He was still gaping at her.  “I thought you were on a mission,” he spoke groggily.

“I was.  But Daniel got food poisoning.  We gated back yesterday and I thought I’d surprise you,” she stated with a bit more edge to her tone, starting to get a little put off by his lack of welcome.

“Oh.  Is he ok?  Did you eat whatever too?” He was shifting even further on the bed, stretching the sleep from his back.

Sam cocked her head to the side and looked at him.  Something was off.

“He’s ok.  Ate some green soup from the natives.  Cam had some too but not as much as Daniel.  Tealc and I refused and I’m not sure where Vala even was during dinner…” He nodded and she watched as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and put his back to her, rubbing his face with his hands and sighing audibly. 

“Jack?”

“Hum?” He turned his head slightly towards her but avoided her gaze.

Trying to ignore his unease, she moved onto her knees on the bed and went to hug his back, thinking she could press a kiss to the back of his neck and woo him back to bed.  It was still early.  Very early.  As soon as she was behind him and had her arms around him, he tensed.  Sam missed nothing.

“Jack, what’s wrong?”  He got up and circled to the other side of the bed, away from her and towards the bathroom.

“I have an early meeting, Sam.  I better go get dressed,” he spoke, matter of fact.

She cocked her head even more and squinted her eyes at him.  Who was this man and what had they done to Jack O’Neill?  In the months they had been seeing each other, he couldn’t wait to be with her.  Hug her, kiss her, talk to her, and do other interesting things to her that only made her blush.  As soon as they were in the same room he could hardly keep his hands off of her.

“Jack, I flew all the way here to spend the weekend with you.  It’s Saturday.  We haven’t seen each other in 4 weeks.  You haven’t even kissed me yet!”  The confusion and hurt in her voice was obvious, and Jack looked like he was taking his time composing a response.  Something was wrong, she just knew it.

“Sam… I’m sorry.  I wished you’d checked with me first.  Look, I really have to get ready,” and he turned, walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Sam sat on the bed and stared at the closed door.  It took all her energy not to march after him.  Maybe he had had a bad week too.  Maybe she really wasn’t what he needed this weekend.  She entertained the idea of booking a flight back to the Springs; she really could use a few days holed up in her lab to catch up on work.  But then she’d have wasted a perfectly good free weekend to spend with Jack, and those were few and far between.   Maybe he’d have his meetings and come home in a better mood.  She’d take her chances.

Chapter Text

It was past 12:30 a.m. when he came home.  Jack had hoped that Sam was sleeping.  Maybe she had gotten so mad at him this morning that she’d just left, packed up and gone back to her labs and doohickeys.   He missed her.  He missed her so much.  His attitude towards her this morning had been unforgivable.  Then again, he knew how to play the part of the jerk.  He just hadn’t intended on it this time, hadn’t been prepared for her to be there, to show up like that.  He hadn’t known what to do.  His reaction had just come out.

But she hadn’t left.  There she was, lying perfectly still in his bed, on her side, curled slightly towards the bathroom door.  He thought she was asleep and started towards the bathroom.  He was wrong.

“Where have you been?”  There was irritation in her voice, though she didn’t move from her position on the bed.

“I’m sorry.  I had meetings,”  he lied, then winced.

“I called you… several times.  I went by your office to take you to lunch.  Your secretary wasn’t even there.”  Now, she moved.  She sat up slowly and reached for the lamp on the bedside table, flinching when the light bore into her eyes.

“Were your meetings at the White House?” she pushed

More silence.

Sam sighed.  This was going nowhere and she was already way past hurt.  He didn’t want her here.  It couldn’t be clearer if he’d sent her an email.  She stood, grabbed her pillow and made for the door.  Instinctively, his arm reached for hers as she passed him and she stopped. 

“Sam, please”

Her head spun sharply up and she looked at him.  He looked back at her, finally.

“Please what, Jack?  I’ll be gone in the morning.  It’s clear you would rather I not be here.”

“Please don’t leave, Sam.  Please,” she finally caught his voice.  The crack in it, the wariness.  She looked at him.  God, he looked exhausted, drained to the very core.  Whatever was wrong, it was serious.  Her pose changed from aggressive to concerned.  Squaring her shoulders, she braved:

“Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?” she paused, “I know you.  I can tell you didn’t have a single meeting today.  What I don’t know is why you lied to me.” There was another long pause and she had to look away.  She sighed deeply and went for it:

“Is there someone else?”

Now he looked at her, shock evident on his face.  He took a quick step closer to her, their faces very close.   “No, Sam.  No, no, no.  I’m sorry I made you even think that.”  Her lips were wobbling and her face stern.  He had hurt her today, last night.  His rejection of her gift of time

“Well, what then?” She spat out, “I know this relationship is new and we’re not married or anything, and yeah, we only see each other occasionally, but I rather think I deserve your honesty and--”

He cut her off.  “I know.  I’m sorry.”  They were having a staring contest now.  He broke it by taking a step back and spitting it all out.  “I spent my morning at my oncologist’s office.  Then lunch time at the cancer center on 5^th and then back to Dr. Braye’s after that.  I didn’t mean to lie.  I don’t know how else to tell you this.”

Chapter Text

Her face fell and he noticed she had paled completely, all the blood draining from her face.  Thinking she might faint, he grabbed onto her forearms and walked her back towards the bed, forcing her to sit down.  Sam was in utter shock.  She was trying to process what he had said, the words “oncologist,” and “cancer” ringing in her ears. 

“What?” Her eyes squinted at him.

“Together with the tests from 2 weeks ago and today’s, they were able to confirm… Sam I…Ther…” He was wobbly himself, and decided to sit beside her.  Sighing, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in between his legs.

“Confirm what?” Sam asked, looking at him, reaching for his clasped hands.

“Cancer.”  Her gasp was loud.  Too loud.  He looked up at her.  Her eyes were beginning to sheen.  He hated this.  Facing off Anubis again might be a more comfortable activity.

“Lymphoma,” he went on.  “Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  Stage Four.  I’m sorry I lied to you.”  His voice sounded emotionless, but it was the only way he could get actual words out without breaking down.

“How did you… what made you…” She couldn’t get her mind around the right words.

“I’ve been having some back pain.  A lot of back pain.  I went in for some stronger pain pills.”  She knew if he had gone in to be seen for something, the pain had to be significant, Jack wasn’t soft when it came to enduring.  She was having a hard time processing.  He threw her another bomb.

“I start chemo Monday.” Her eyes were wide, huge.  Tears were falling freely now, though she made no sound.  “Six treatments to start off, then more testing.”

The silence was long.

“Will that… will it…”  She couldn’t actually say the words.  Will that save you? Will you live?  How long do we have? 

“Dr. Braye is really good.  He’s the specialist for Lymphoma.  He’s seen this before and has seen patients overcome this beast.  He thinks if the cancer doesn’t spread, then the chemo will get it all.  We just have to see.”  He knew the fact that it was Lymphoma had immediately connected her to her father.  Why did they have to have the same kind of cancer? And she knew exactly what Jacob’s Lymphoma almost led to…

 And then here it was.  The reason he had behaved like a jerk.  The reason he had declined her company this morning, the reason he stayed away from home until past midnight, though his last appointment with Dr. Braye was at 1400.  He didn’t want her to have to go through this with him.  She was young.  So young.  She deserved a long, full life.  Not a few more years with an old, medically retired Air Force General, moody as hell and way past his prime.

“Look Sam—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, getting up from the bed, and starting to pace the floor.  “Don’t you dare shut me out of this.”

“You don’t deserve this.  You should—”

“Jack, no! Don’t even say it!  I told you I loved you.  We decided to make a go of this, to see where it would lead… I know we barely see each other… I know the arrangement sucks.  But…” She faltered, closed her eyes and sighed.  “This is the happiest I’ve been in… forever.”  Her face was wet with tears, and he was beginning to crumble with her words.  “Every time we’re together it’s right.  It’s what I’ve wanted for years.  Every night when we talk on the phone… I can’t walk away now.  I won’t.”

He scooped down and reached for her, pulling her up into his lap, and she went willingly, settling in like a child.  He wrapped his arms around her and the sob in her throat finally escaped, shattering his façade and causing his tears to spill too.  They sat there, tangled together, embracing and crying for an indefinite amount of time.  Finally, her crying subsided and she lifted her head to look at him, and he looked straight back into her blue eyes, the eyes he loved.  He loved this woman.  Their silent conversation was clear.  We’ll do this together.  I’m here for you.  I love you.  He pulled them both back and they lay down in bed, neither knew who started the kiss, neither needed to know.

Chapter Text

His phone rang.  “Landry”

“General, this is Sam Carter.”

“Colonel, what can I do for you, I believe I gave SG1 48 hours downtime.  You’re not on base, are you?”

“No, Sir.  General, I need to request some leave.  I’ve had some personal, um… things come up… uh, and—”

“Request denied, Colonel.  I’m sorry, but we need you for this next mission.  You ship out Monday at 0700.  You know it’s a technical mission.”

“Yes, Sir., however…”  He had already hung up.  Sam stared at the receiver.  What a jerk.  She depressed the dial button and pressed redial.  She couldn’t believe Jack still had one of these old fashion phones with actual number buttons.

“Landry.”

“Sir, this is Colonel Carter.”

“There’s nothing I can do, Carter.  I expect you to follow orders.”

“Jack has cancer” she deadpanned.  The effect was immediate.  She heard silence.

“What?” Landry sounded unsure.  Was this a joke?  What Jack?

“Sir, I’m sorry to drop it on you like this.  General O’Neill and I have been in a, uh… relationsh—”

Landry cut her off.  “I know, Sam.  I keep up with my officers… especially when my expert on all things gate and science heads off to D.C. at every conceivable opportunity.  What’s this about Jack?”

“We just found out, Sir.  I don’t have specifics yet, but it looks like Lymphoma.  His first chemo treatment is tomorrow and I’d really appreciate it if you could—”

“Stay for the week, Sam.  I’ll find a way to move a scientist from another team for this mission,” he paused.  “Do Dr. Jackson and Teal’c know yet?”

“Thank you, Sir.  And no, Sir.  We’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them.  Jack wants to get through this first round tomorrow, then tell them.”

“Ok.  Give General O’Neill my best, and take care.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Sam put down the receiver into its ancient looking cradle and sat back into the chair.  She hadn’t even realized she was sitting on edge during that whole conversation.  She had her leave, now she just had to tell Jack and hope he didn’t freak out over her telling Landry.

She tip toed back into his room and climbed back under the blankets, moving closer to him.  He shifted, turned, and brought a strong arm to capture her middle and pull her back towards him, spooning against her. 

“Mmmm,” she sighed, and melted into his embrace.  They had so much to fight for, so much to overcome.  If only they could stay together through it, she just might make it.

Chapter Text

It was mid-morning on Sunday.  Having lazied around in bed all morning, they were in the kitchen now, Sam sitting on the kitchen table leafing through a myriad of pamphlets Dr. Braye had sent home with Jack.   He was perched next to the stove, cracking eggs into a bowl, getting ready to prepare his famous beer omelets. 

“You want cheese on yours today?” he asked her.  Sometimes she didn’t want cheese, some nonsense about extra calories.

When Jack didn’t get a response, he turned and looked at her.  “Sam?”  She was sitting shell shocked, eyes glued to one flyer in front of her.   Abandoning the egg shells and grabbing a kitchen rag, he rushed to her.  “What is it?”

Realizing the reaction she was having, Sam straightened a bit, putting her right hand over the pamphlet in question as if trying to hide it, her left hand moving to her mouth.  She bit her thumbnail and looked away.  He hunched next to her, moving her right hand slightly to see what she had just read.  The awkward pamphlet had bolded across the top, “Chemotherapy & Sterility.”  Briefly scanning the document, Jack saw the words “damage,” “temporary or permanent sterility,” and “freezing” in connection with “ovum and sperm.”  He sighed audibly.  He vaguely remembered the nurse at the cancer center who had read him a long list of side effects for the chemo treatment, sterility one among the huge list.  He just hadn’t thought it through.

Kneeling next to her, he turned her body towards him.  Sam looked at him, her face set.  In the minute he had looked at the flyer, she had obviously been working hard to pull herself together, putting on a strong face. 

“Sooo… I know we never talked about kids.  But, if you want to do this freezing thing we can talk about it.”

She shook her head. “It’s ok.  Really, it is.”  They looked at each other.  “I’m probably getting too old for it anyway, and with my job…”

“Sam, you’re not old…” He made a face at her.  Jack had never known if she wanted kids.  He remembered she had thought about it in that cryptic conversation they had in her lab years ago, when she was mulling over Pete’s engagement ring.

She answered him, “I know women have babies when they’re in their 40’s, but  it’s not ideal.  I always thought I’d be ok not having kids…” She looked away again, her face the one she used when she was working something out.  “I guess it’s just different knowing it won’t ever happen… not even by accident.” She looked back at him, to gage his reaction.

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all.  She reached for him, threading her fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna lose all your hair, you know?” 

He smiled. “Yeah, I was thinking T might like that, might convince him to shave his again.”

She laughed.  “I bet he will.  You need to tell them, Jack.”

“I will,  I will.”  He just didn’t know how.  How do you tell your best friends that even though you have beat death over and over again at the hands of megalomaniac snakes, overbearing aliens, and impossible military situations, but were unsure whether you could overcome one of the most common human ailments of their time.  He had no idea.

Chapter Text

It turned out the first treatment wasn’t as bad as either of them had expected.  It took six hours on a drip at the hospital, where nurses were in and out monitoring Jack, and a doctor checked on him every few hours.  He vomited twice, glad the nausea wasn’t overwhelming, and Sam was there the whole time, wiping his face with a wet cloth, talking to him about this or that, keeping him company.  To Sam’s surprise, Jack wasn’t his usual self when it came to being a patient on the cancer wing.  Well, it’s not like he was entirely pleasant towards the nurses, but at least he didn’t yell at them or demand to be released.  Maybe he felt helpless.  Maybe he was so down he didn’t care to put up a fight.

Sam thought he looked so weak laying there on that bed, looking pale and feeling terrible, but they both agreed it wasn’t the end of the world, and Jack said he could endure it again, no problem.  Dr. Braye came in at the end, and explained how some symptoms would persist throughout the week, as the drugs worked in his body.  He told them that the treatment times would diminish from now on, being able to push the drugs more and more quickly into his system after this first treatment.  He taught Sam how to flush out Jack’s cannula, an intravenous tube inserted into his body through his arm with which the drugs were given.  Jack wore a sort of sock-like cloth on his arm to hold and hide the opening from view, and Sam learned all about how to keep it clean.  Dr. Braye’s last recommendation was to go home and shave Jack’s head, mentioning that waiting to let the hair fall off on its own was usually emotionally traumatic and unnecessary.

It was Thursday now, and they had agreed that Sam should return to Colorado on Friday and try to work with Landry on a schedule where she could be more present for Jack over the next month.  Jack was also due at the White House Friday, to meet with the Joint Chiefs and determine what would happen to his position.  He was sitting in bed, his back against the headboard, his legs criss-crossed, watching a hockey game.  He wore an Air Force cap, the hair under it long gone.  They had driven straight to a barber shop Monday, having the barber shave his hair for them.  Jack didn’t want Sam to have to do it, and Sam was utterly relieved Jack suggested it.

Sam stood by the edge of the bed, a laundry basket in front of her, sorting and folding clothes.  Anytime she found socks or underwear, she’d throw them at him and he’d match them up and put them aside.  It was such a domestic thing for them to be doing, this couple who blew up suns and killed false gods.

“Do you feel like eating anything tonight?” she asked, shoving another sock his way.  His appetite had been poor since the treatment, but he was feeling better every day.

“Maybe pizza and beer?  But I’m sure by the time the pizza gets here I’ll feeling like retching again,” he said sarcastically. 

She quirked a smile at him.  “Want me to heat you up some soup then?”

“Nah, let’s order the pizza and take our chances.” He picked up the phone on the side of the bed and hit speed dial.

Sam moved to pick up the neat pile of socks Jack had made next to him and went to put it away in the dresser.  Opening the second drawer, “No anchovies Jack, that’s sure to make you sick,” she gawked at the already full drawer.  Sheesh, the man had a lot of socks!  She rested the neat pile on her hips and used her free hand to push socks around in the drawer, making room for the new stack.  She put the stack in, but the drawer wouldn’t close.  “It’ll be here in 30 minutes,” she heard him say.  Opening the drawer fully again, she started pushing the socks down, trying to compact the large piles, if only to get the drawer to close.  

“Jack, you really should go through these, you have way too many socks…”  She stopped when her hand brushed against something hard in the drawer.  Jack had put the phone down and was again engrossed in the hockey game.  Puffing audibly, she reached for whatever it was that surely didn’t belong in the sock drawer and was obviously making it even fuller.  Her hand wrapped around the object and she pulled it out, gaping at it when she finally saw it.  Oh, my god.  Oh, my god.  Oh, my god.  It was a black box. A black jewelry box.  The velvety kind.  Holy crap! What do I do?  She could just put it back and pretend she didn’t see it, but she’d seriously have to calm down.  Her breathing. The blush that started on her face and went everywhere.  The tingly feeling on her hands from the soft velvet. He would know, he knew her too well.

Before she could decide on a course of action, she heard the sound of the mattress shifting and immediately felt him behind her.  Apparently he wasn’t as engrossed in the game as she thought.  Crap!

“Sam,” he was right next to her.  She was so busted.  But who left something like that in a sock drawer? They were obviously sharing a bed when she was here, but technically his sock drawer should have been private. Oh, hell.

“Is this what I think it is?”  It came out almost in a whisper.

She heard him blow out a breath and causally answer, “Yeap.”

She didn’t know what else to say.  She had lost control of the commands from her brain to her mouth.  And she was still holding it. Geez, why can’t I seem to put it down? She guessed she had lost the command control to her hands too.  Just great.  He was still standing next to her, his eyes also glued to the box in her hands.  How long has he had this? Is it for me?

“How long have you had it?” she blurted out.  WHAT! Did I just say that out loud?

She heard the amused way he cleared his throat, then, he finally turned and looked at her, his voice deep.  “A while,” the vagueness of his answer not lost on her.

Still holding the offending object, but finally able to gain control of her head muscles, she turned towards him.  He looked sweet.  Like he was the one who had been busted, and was that… yep, he looked a little smug, too. 

“How long?” Oh, my god, what is wrong with me? I cannot control my -"

“After that mess up at the Antarctic station with Aiyana.  When I got back from getting Kanan out of my head… neck… whatever,” his reply was calm, matter of fact.

She furrowed her brow, searching her memory, then her eyes went wide.  “Jack! That was like… three years ago.  We weren’t… Jack that was…” She was suddenly speechless.  It wasn’t just after that Antarctic fiasco; it was after Ba’al had tortured Jack, she remembered.  He finally lifted his hands and took the box from her, looking at her, absorbed in her reaction. 

She was right.  It was crazy.  He remembered the time he purchased the ring.  They had had too many close calls. He had come within hours of being dead from the contagion of the frozen 3 million year-old woman.  Kanan had healed his body, but the experience of having a symbiote had nearly done him in, then Ba’al had literally killed him over and over again.  Daniel had been dead – ascended, and then every other remaining member of the team kept dodging death at every turn.  He remembered thinking he didn’t want to miss the chance with Sam.  So he’d gone out, driven to three different shops, finally settling on what he had purchased.  It was the ring he thought Sam would love.

“When were you gonna ask me?” They were still both standing by the dresser, the overcrowded sock drawer still open, the black box still lingering between them.

He pressed his lips together and his eyes looked up as if searching his brain for the answer.  “Well… after I bought it I was never really good at actually having a plan…”  She smiled at him, a full smile, the one where her eyes showed her affection towards him. “And the world kept needing to be saved… bad guys kept showing up…” He continued, tilting his head. 

She was thinking, he could tell.  He saw her quickly take in a breath and straighten.  “Jack, you had this when I…when everything with Pete.”  Jack winced.  He hated the Pete topic.  That situation had nearly ripped his heart out, then stomped on it. 

“I thought we agreed never to mention cop-boy again, remember?” Of course he was referring to the conversations they had when Jack moved to D.C., when they were deciding to pursue a relationship, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and any mention of Pete really turned Jack sour.

“You were happy, Sam.  That’s all I ever wanted for you.” There was a long pause.  They were both thinking.  “Things were going well for us.  I wanted to ask you soon, but then… well, this whole cancer thing…” He looked down, spent.  This had been a long week.  He had no intention of proposing to Sam now that he was ill.  He didn’t need the thought of leaving a widow behind.  Just days ago he was prepared to let her go – she was the one who insisted on sticking by him through this mess.

“Marriage is important to you,” Sam said, it wasn’t a question.  She had deducted as much from spending years hearing his stories on missions, being his second-in-command, being his friend.  He had this ring stashed in his sock drawer for years, for crying out loud!  Her mind was set now. 

“You know I’m old fashioned…” he interrupted her thoughts.  Yeah, she knew.  She loved him for it.

“Ask me now.”  Unlike moments ago, when Sam’s mouth was blurting out things her brain had not instructed, this was directed.  She was sure, her voice calm, confident.

But Jack wasn’t ready. Not even close.  “Sam…” His tone was disappointing, almost sad.  “I can’t…” He let out a big puff of air and looked down, studying the socks in the drawer.  “We don’t even know if I’ll live through this.”

There was no silence this time, no pause.  “You will,” her hands were on his face almost instantly, lifting his eyes to look at her.  “You will live through this.  You said all you ever wanted was for me to be happy.”  She was resolute.  “Ask me now”

He looked at her.  He loved her.  She was the best thing that ever happened to him.  “Sam, will you marry me?”

Sam was smiling and biting her bottom lip at the same time, the wetness in her eyes starting to leak down her cheeks.

“Yes.”  And she kissed him.  Or he kissed her.  What difference did it make?  They were never quite sure.  Jack just knew that the overcoming was getting a little easier now, with this woman by his side.

And the sock drawer remained untouched for the rest of the evening.

Chapter Text

Jack stirred on the hospital bed, having been awoken by another violent bout of coughing.  He looked around the room, trying to spot Carter; she would undoubtedly have been told of his situation by now.  She had called him 2 days ago, enraged that Landry had ordered SG-1 to babysit representatives of the International Oversight Advisory on a little “off-world tour” to the Gamma site. He remembered the conversation.

Sam was agitated, “I just hate this – it’s not what any of us want to be doing with our time. If the IOA just took their heads out of their—”

“Sam.  Just go, do your job. They’ll get tired in a few hours and then you can head back.”

She sighed to the phone, “Yeah,” then her tone changed, “Are you sure you’re feeling ok?”

“Just peachy, Sam,” he lied.  “Just go and try not to kill Woolsey.”

She laughed. “I’ll see you this weekend.  Miss you—”

“Miss you too.”

But he had lied.  He had felt awful even then.  The last chemo treatment had weakened him immensely, and then the coughing had started a few days after that, settling deep in his chest.  Yesterday, when he had trouble taking normal breaths, he had finally called Dr. Braye.  It was pneumonia.  God, I’m like an old man, he thought to himself.  The first 3 chemo treatments had been ok, and he always had someone with him, either Sam or one of the guys.  Teal’c had shaved his head again, and Daniel had shown up for the 3^rd treatment completely bald, a gesture of brotherly solidarity.  Sam had taken a picture of “her three bald men,” as she affectionately called them, and apparently started carrying the picture around with her.  She was such a sap sometimes.

And now he was here, waking up in this strange and uncomfortable hospital bed.  Instead of Carter, his eyes landed on another familiar face.

“George!” Jack smiled.

“Hey there, Jack.  How you feelin’?” Hammond asked, genuinely concerned.

Jack pursed his lips and ran a hand down his face, “I’ve been better, honestly.” He looked at the man.  Not that he didn’t appreciate Hammond’s visit, but why was he here? “Has Carter been contacted? She’ll kill me if I don’t let her know I’m in here.”

Hammond got up from his chair and approached the bed.  Uh oh, this isn’t gonna be good.   “What happened to her?” came out immediately, his body bolting upright on the bed.

“Calm down, son.  We don’t know yet, and that’s the truth,” said Hammond, putting both hands towards Jack.

Jack was not buying it.  “What do you mean, you don’t know?  It was a tour of the Gamma site, for crying out loud!”

Hammond held his position.  “The scientists there were conducting experiments on an alien bug believed to originate from the pr…” he looked around the room, verifying they were alone, “from the priors.  Apparently the bug, R-75, they call it, is carnivorous.   There was a containment breech…”

Hammond had to pause because Jack had gone pale.  Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Had Carter been injured, or God forbid, eaten by alien bugs? “You know of SG-1’s resiliency, son.  The last we heard they were using projectile weapons and trying to escape.  The bugs have taken over the vicinity of the Stargate.  The Odyssey is in route now.”

Jack lay back down.  “Can you dial in just to communicate?”

“Yes, but they’re having problems communicating.  It looks more like a technical problem than…” he paused, not wanting to complete that thought, than the idea that no one has survived.  But Jack was no fool, he had been keeping up with mission reports, important meetings and most all vital decisions.  The Joint Chiefs had asked Hammond to return on a temporary basis, filling in the holes that Jack’s absence had left.

“If they can’t communicate they’ll enforce Protocol CR-91,” Jack stated, knowing.  Another coughing episode overtook him, much harsher this time, and Hammond pushed the call button on the bed.  A burly nurse came rushing through, sitting Jack up, and encouraging him to spit into a basin she had at the ready.  She kept instructing him to breathe in and out, encouraging him until the coughing subsided. She checked his temperature with a thermometer, then, left quickly.  Jack lay back down on the bed, completely spent.  If they did follow Protocol CR-91, the Odyssey would deliver a payload onto the Gamma site, effectively killing the bugs, and any other life around. He sighed.

“When did my life turn into this, George?” Jack asked, the sadness in his voice was dispiriting.

Hammond tried to keep a straight face.  “Jack, look at me.  You have to believe she will make it out of this alive.  They always do.”

Jack wanted to retort, to yell at the man.  But they were interrupted when the burly nurse returned with a Doctor, and Hammond was asked to wait outside.  Jack’s fever had gone up again.

Chapter Text

She sat on the hospital chair next to his bed, hands under her thighs, and just stared at him.  He had been dozing when she was finally allowed to see him, and she was stunned by his appearance.  He looked like he had aged 5 years in the 11 days since she’d seen him.  The Odyssey took 7 days to voyage from the Gamma site, and once in Earth’s orbit it had received the urgent message for Colonel Carter.  Jack had made it past the worst of the pneumonia, they informed her, and was now in a regular room, resting and gaining back what little strength he could.  Under the circumstances, the chemotherapy treatments were halted until he was well enough to continue.  At least Hammond had assured her Jack had been informed that all of SG-1 were fine; they had skirted death once again.  He stirred and his eyelids fluttered open.

“Hey!” she said, standing up and immediately reaching for his hand.  He blinked again confirming it was actually her, and took a long, deep breath.  Sam was sure that was the first deep breath he had taken since he’d been told of her plight with the alien bugs.

“What took you so long?” He pulled at her arm and she went in for a tight hug.  It was an awkward position for both of them, but it felt so good.  She could tell he was smelling her hair.  He had no hair for her to smell.

“They beamed me to your house as soon as we were within range.  Hammond had a car waiting for me.”  He noticed she was still wearing BDU pants and black long-sleeve shirt; she really had come straight to him.  She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” her voice was full of regret.

“Don’t be.  You were doing your job, like we agreed you’d keep doing.” Her mouth moved up on one side, but it wasn’t her usual half-smile.  “Any bug bites I should know of?” he asked, but Sam just shook her head from side to side and answered him in the same voice, “I’m fine.”

She straightened from the awkward hug and placed her hip up on his hospital bed.  Knowing what she wanted, he scooted his body over on the bed, and she moved further, sitting on the gap he had created, her body on its side, her legs bent at the knee and her huge combat boots hanging off the side where her body had stood.  She leaned her upper body down towards his pillow, and lay her head millimeters from his.  Now they were eye to eye, lip to lip, nose to nose.  Sam brought her right hand up between their bodies, and he lifted his own to place it on top of her, their fingers mingling.  They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, looking into each other’s eyes until Sam finally whispered, “How bad did it get?”

He didn’t need her to explain what she meant. They were so attune to each other, words were barely necessary.   Was the pneumonia severe? Were you close to death? Did you suffer?  “It got pretty bad,” he whispered back, not wanting to lie to her. 

She didn’t reply, but her eyes filled to the brim, and when she blinked the tears fell, landing in a puddle on his pillow.  His free hand moved to cup her cheek, and a sob she didn’t know existed escaped.  Jack guided her face to the crook of his neck, and Sam finally gave into the stress, exhaustion, and heartache that had plagued her since Jack’s diagnosis.  Her body shook, her cries now buried in the man she loved.

“I’m so scared, Jack,” she mumbled into his neck.  Scared of losing you, he knew. 

He sighed and answered her, “I’m scared too, Sam.” 

He knew it took a lot for Sam to reveal such a thing.  She was a soldier, a warrior.  Fear wasn’t in her vocabulary; defeat was unfamiliar to her.  Jack’s own resolve to survive this disease had already started to crumble.  He had realized with the onset of the pneumonia that he wasn’t as invincible as he once thought.  They lay that way for a long while, sharing in their grief.  They could pick themselves back up later.  Right now, they needed this.

When Sam felt in control after her emotional outbreak, she wiped her face with her hands and looked around.  “If the nurses find me in your bed they’ll be outraged.”  Jack’s brow furrowed and he looked at her.  She told him, “I spent my first hour here trying to convince the hospital staff to let me see you.”

His brow got impossibly deeper.  “What? Why?” 

“Apparently ‘fiancé’ isn’t synonymous with ‘family member.’” She huffed.  “I had to talk to 3 different people – you’re quite guarded, General,” she added in gest.

He smirked.  “Did you show them your ring?”

“Yeap.  Didn’t seem to matter to the almighty hospital administration, though.”  Then she added, “But that did get me in… the ring was still on my dog tags.  When they saw I was a Colonel in the United States Air Force, they decided to let me in.”  She sighed.  “Next time I’ll start off with that; I need to remember to bring my Air Force ID,” she said seriously, looking at the machine connected to his IV drip.

“Sam,” Jack brought her attention back to his face.  “What if next time I’m in here you actually are a family member.”

Her eyes squinted at him.  “What?”  She had understood him, understood his meaning even, but she was giving him a chance to change his mind.

“Marry me as soon as I’m out of here.”  His voice was filled with all the love and affection he had for her.  “We can fly the boys in, Mark and the family too.”  If she insisted on marrying him, he wanted to actually have a chance to do it.  He saw her tear up again, and he was glad of her reaction.

“I’d like that,” she whispered to him, her voice broken.  “Cassie too,” she added.

“Cassie too,” he confirmed.

They were interrupted by the opening of the door, and Sam jumped out of bed, almost injuring herself.  She landed on her feet, thankfully, then, heard someone chuckling at her.  It was Dr. Braye.

“It’s ok, Ms. Carter.  I won’t report you to the nurses,” Dr. Braye took in her red face, then, turned to start examining Jack.

“Hey, Doc,” she said in Jack’s familiar vocabulary.  She watched as he examined Jack from head to toe, took his blood pressure, listened to his chest, and studied Jack’s chart.  Finally, Sam broke the silence. “How is he?”

Dr. Braye looked up from the chart, two pairs of eyes on him. “Be honest with us, Doc.  We need the truth right now.”  Jack looked at Sam, who nodded her agreement.

“I won’t hold back, I promise.” Dr. Braye laid it out, “The pneumonia is no longer an issue, General; your body has miraculously responded to the strong antibiotics.  You’re still in here to ensure you continue to eat, rest, and recover your strength.  Since you were already in the hospital, we conducted many tests, and I can confirm that the chemotherapy is in fact working,” he paused. “However, it will be impossible to finish your chemo treatments until I feel you have more stamina, can gain a few pounds, and one more thing…”

Sam and Jack looked at each other, then back at the doctor, expectantly.

“I can see on both your faces that the experience this week has really rocked you… and I’ve examined General O’Neill every day for the past week,” he sighed.  He had witnessed Jack’s despair all week, his inability to cope with his weakened body and the absence of his lifemate.  He continued, “Believing that you will get better, that you will survive is more valuable than any treatment I can medically prescribe.  I know your jobs keep you from each other, but having a support system at this point is of utmost importance.” His eyebrows rose and he threw in the last kicker, “The General needs you Samantha, and you both need to believe there will be a long and healthy future where you are both alive and well.”

Jack wasn’t sure he liked the idea of requiring even more out of Sam than she had already given, but as he chanced a look at her, all his fears dissipated.  She was beaming with the biggest smile he had seen on her in weeks.  Sam tore her eyes away from the good doctor, and catching Jack’s eyes on her, realized she was grinning.  She didn’t care, though.  Dr. Braye had just delivered the first bit of good news she’d had in a long time.  The chemo was working.  Jack needed her.  There was hope for her future.  For their future.  And Sam was just fine with that.

Chapter Text

Sam stared at the picture in her hands.  It had been a beautiful day – her wedding day.  Jack wore his dress blues, pinned up with all his medals, more decorated than anyone she knew.  His Air Force Cover adorned his bald head.  His right arm held on tightly to her waist in the picture.  She was so glad she decided to wear a white dress after all, its knee-length skirt flowed from her waist, and the bodice hugged her figure, thin lace covering her upper chest, while leaving her arms bare.  Cassie had spotted the ivory cocktail dress on a widow display during their shopping trip, and Sam had loved it from the start.  Jack had all but drooled when he saw her.  He was leaning into her cheek in the picture, and she was smiling uncontrollably, covering his arm with her own.  Daniel had snapped the photo while they weren’t looking.

That had been 6 weeks ago.  After the wedding, Sam had taken Jack to his cabin, which was his favorite place on earth. They spent five days there on their pseudo-honeymoon, as Jack called it.  He promised to take her somewhere warm and tropical once he was better, and she promised to let him.  They made love for the first time since his chemo had gotten bad, since the fatigue had overtaken him; the act unifying them, sealing their promises to each other made at the altar.  As they lay in each other’s arms, Sam felt entirely complete and utterly blissful.  As if the cancer was only a minute detail; as if their future wasn’t questionable in the least.

Jack was finally given full medical leave, and Sam negotiated a few weeks leave from the President himself.  Jack was unaware that she had threatened to resign her commission when the brass denied her initial request for extended leave.  After hearing Sam’s firm, yet passionate speech about needing to support Jack during his illness, the President finally agreed, but made sure Sam knew she would be recalled if her expertise was needed in the event of any emergencies.  Being the foremost expert in alien technology, Sam knew her exclusive time with Jack was short, the Ori threat grew daily.

She had been right. She placed the photo back onto the small cubby by her sleeping quarters and remembered the events since their honeymoon. They had adjusted fairly well to being together constantly.  For people who only saw each other a few days out of the month, they overcame the small and mundane irritations that come with finally daily sharing a life.  Jack’s last 2 chemo treatments went without a hitch, and Sam kept him pretty isolated from other people and the elements, making sure he would not contract any viruses his body was unable to fight at the time.  They had also spent long hours talking.  It had never been Jack’s forte, but Sam found the act of dreaming with him about their future to improve their morale and surprisingly, Jack had plenty to say about what he wanted for their future.

Shaking her head to clear the memories, she shifted her eyes to the laptop in front of her.  She was aboard the Odyssey, having been recalled several days ago for a mission with SG-1.  Certain intel had revealed that Merlin was working on a weapon capable of destroying ascended beings.  Vala had sent word that the Ori had a working supergate, able to transport an entire fleet of ships from the Ori galaxy to their own.  Once again, Sam was needed to save Earth from egotistical aliens posing as gods.  She had left Cam and Daniel in Camelot, searching for the weapon, and had been working with Kvasir on understanding how to use the weapon, once it was found.  The little gray alien was probably the most humorous of them all, and sported a surprisingly upbeat personality.  Together they determined that dialing the supergate and sending the weapon through to the Ori galaxy was their best bet.  Sam sighed.  She remembered the conversation she had with the Asgard alien, once they had a moment away from the vast array of crew.

Sam had cleared her throat awkwardly. “So... Kvasir, can I ask you a question?”

The gray alien looked at her and blinked his huge eyes, “Are you not asking me a question even now, Colonel Carter?”

“Yes, ok.”  Sam rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Do you know what cancer is?” Sam knew Kvasir was a scientist among the Asgard, and she was lucky he was the one dispatched.

Kvasir blinked again, “Yes of course, it is a common ailment among humans, where abnormal cells grow and multiply—”

Sam interrupted him, “Exactly!” Sam smiled, “Okay…um…In your past, has the Asgard suffered from a similar ailment?”

“Colonel Carter, you must remember that the Asgard, as a race, have continued down an evolutionary path for millennia.  Ailments at the cellular level were obliterated hundreds of thousands of years ago. It has not been necessary for us to continue our study of similar diseases.  In addition, the Asgard have learned to consume only what is necessary for the daily function of our bodies, and our methods of obtaining and using energy are clean and reusable.  Therefore, we do not ingest certain toxins and chemicals, such as is present in your food and breathable atmosphere.”

Sam eyes were huge, her hope for Jack in them. Kvasir noticed.  “Do you suffer from this cancer, Colonel Carter?”

Sam swallowed the lump in her throat.  Just thinking about Jack these days did that to her. “Hum, no.  My husba... I mean, General O’Neill was diagnosed with cancer a little over 2 months ago.”

The alien blinked and turned his head slightly to the side, “Jack O’Neill is famous amongst the Asgard.  He is the most honored human in our galaxy.  This is most grievous news, Colonel Carter.” He turned back to look Sam in the eyes, “I was not aware that you were mated to him.  This news is agreeable to the Asgard.”

Sam gave the Asgard a small smile.  “What has been done for O’Neill’s disease thus far, Colonel Carter?”

“Hum… We call it chemotherapy.  At its most basic level, it’s the administration of certain chemical substances into the body that aim to kill cells that divide rapidly, like the cancer cells.”  Sam wondered if she was making any sense to Kvasir, who was obviously millions of years ahead of her.

“Does this not also kill cells in the body that divide rapidly under normal circumstances?” Kvasir asked plainly.

Sam nodded her head, “Yes it does; it kills the good cells in the bone marrow, digestive tract, hair follicles, among others…” Sam couldn’t go on.

“Then why is this method used?  Has O’Neill been affected by the sudden immunosuppression to his system?”  Kvasir looked worried, if ever an Asgard could look worried.

Sam sighed and shifted in her seat.  “Yes, he contracted pneumonia shortly after he began treatment, but thankfully he made it out of it ok.  I was on a mission when it happened…” Sam head rolled around her neck, trying to work out the tension. “Cancer research is among the top priorities of our scientists on Earth, but chemotherapy is still one of the most effective methods we have found.”

“I see.  Has this chemotherapy effectively eliminated the cancerous cells from O’Neill’s body?”

Sam righted her head and looked straight at him.  “We don’t know. He finished his last chemo treatment last week.  I was recalled for this mission and had to leave him.  He was supposed to undergo extensive testing this week to determine that very thing,” She paused, “He’s probably there now.” And I’m not with him, she thought.

The Asgard got up from his seat and came to stand directly in from of Sam.  She figured it was the closest act of compassion she had ever seen from an Asgard.  “Colonel Carter, I assure you, if this chemotherapy was not effective, the Asgard will do anything possible to try and save the life of O’Neill.  Although I am currently unaware of a method to help, I will return to Orilla to find past records of Asgard cellular disease.  In the meantime, as soon as an Asgard ship is able to travel to Earth, we can attempt placing O’Neill into one of our stasis pods.  They are usually effective in determining precise locations for abnormalities within our own bodies.  This may help your scientists determine if O’Neill requires further treatment.”

Sam cleared her throat and swiped at a lone tear that had fallen without her knowledge.  “That would be wonderful Kvasir, thank you.”

“Of course, Colonel Carter.”

Sam moved through the ship now, the memory of the short conversation clear in her head.  Finally, they received word that the weapon had not been found, but decided to attempt to dial the supergate anyway, in order to prevent the Ori from dialing in.  Sam volunteered for the impromptu moonwalk, where she was beamed outside of the ship in order to install the necessary control crystals to an outside panel on the Odyssey.  As if her life were stained by bad luck, the supergate activated from the Ori galaxy, and Sam was detached from her magnetic lock on the ship. 

Floating aimlessly in space, Sam witnessed the Ori warships come through the supergate; watched as the battle ensued between them and the combined Tok’ra, Asgard, Jaffa, Earthen and Lucian Alliance ships.  She watches as several Ha’taks are taken down easily, stares wide eyed as the Korolev is destroyed.  She remembers all the hours she put into helping with the schematics for the Earthen ship, and she remembers also, that Daniel Jackson was aboard.

As the vast nothingness of space returns to its dull black, Sam continues to call out to someone, anyone who can hear her.  She is alone now, the light show is over, and an intense and unfamiliar unease is creeping into her bones.  She concentrates, closing her eyes and fighting against the panic that is coursing through her blood.  Surely she did not just witness the death of Daniel.  She tries to reason that Daniel is never really dead, and that thought keeps her going for another few minutes.  She imagines that even if she does get rescued, that the Ori ships are now in her galaxy, and the likelihood of Earth making it out unfazed is probably slim.  She studies the supergate and thinks that her proximity to it is probably a good thing; that someone might eventually notice her, or notice her body, but she tries to stay away from the thought of death.

She thinks about Jack.  About his face, his features, his body.  She thinks about the way he makes her feel when she comes home and he’s had a few beers and his breath is hot on her face.  She thinks of him in his dress blues, standing at the altar waiting for her, a smile on his face.  She thinks of the future they will never have, because in all likelihood, she will die out here, in this nothingness.  And she thinks that maybe they waited a little too long for their happiness.  That the universe is messing with them, playing dirty, just because they are latecomers to love, and joy, and happiness.  She thinks she wants to make it out alive for Jack.  She thinks she wants to tell him she really believes his cancer is all gone.

Chapter Text

The Odyssey beamed Sam and the others to the Gate room as soon as it was in range.  A harried looking General Landry stood waiting for them. 

“Welcome back, SG-1.  Glad you made it out alive,” he said, in his normal tone. 

He tilted his head towards the door and the group’s eyes followed his lead.  From the middle of the gate room they all saw Jack stumble in, his bald head suntanned, wearing blue BDU’s and clearly out of breath.  He had run here, as soon as he saw the first sign of flashing red lights and the overhead system announced, “General O’Neill to the gate room!”

“Jack!” Sam exclaimed, clearly shocked to see him here.  She had left him in Washington almost 2 weeks ago, when this whole supergate fiasco had begun.  She closed the distance between their bodies in a few short steps.

Jack grabbed for her as soon as she was within reach, “Oh, thank God.” He hugged her, breathing out a sigh of relief.  They clung to each other, and the rest of the room faded away, Landry walked by, and SG-1 slapped Jack on the back and retreated slowly to the infirmary.  The SF’s in the gate room looked awkwardly at each other and decided to do the same, filing out one by one next to the couple.  It was an unfamiliar public display of affection for these two people, but Jack had just spent the past few months fighting for his life against a microscopic killer, and Sam had just floated in space for over 5 hours thinking her fate was sealed, so at the moment neither seemed to care.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered close to his ear, her death grip on him held firm.

Jack shifted his face and kissed her temple, “I came as soon as they were done with me in Washington,” he stated clearly.

Sam’s breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes.  “Do they know yet?” Is that why he’s here? Because he’s lost the battle? He seemed too calm for that.

“Uh huh,” was his answer.

Sam waited for another moment, her heart in her throat.  When it became clear he wasn’t going to volunteer more information, she added in another whisper, “Is it gone?” and as she asked it, she was sending up a silent prayer. Please let the cancer be gone! Please.

He hugged her tighter, if it were even possible, which only made her anxiety grow.  Then he leaned in to her ear and whispered, “It’s all gone, Sam.  It’s all gone.”

“Oh, God, Jack.” Sam sobbed, and her knees gave out.  Jack caught her weight and shuffled them closer to the wall.  The SF by the door caught sight of the emotional scene, and he nodded to the SF across the room at the opposite door.  Getting the message, the SF swiped his card causing the door to drift closed, the SF near Jack following suit. 

They were alone now, in this huge room, their embrace being witnessed only by the massive object that had brought them together in the first place.  The Stargate had been their common ground all those years ago, when Sam was an eager and inexperienced Captain, and Jack a reckless lost man on a suicide mission.  Sam’s weight became too much for Jack, and as she cried and hugged him, he slunk both their bodies down against the wall, until they were both sitting, huddled together like two people starved for each other’s touch.

Having calmed down, Sam moved to get off of Jack, and sat next to him on the floor, her long legs stretching and her huge combat boots poking out.  Jack’s arm lifted and scooped her shoulder into him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.  The position was reminiscent of rare moments on missions gone wrong, where they would cross the line and give each other the only comfort they could.

“So, I hear you were testing gravity there for a while,” he spoke, trying to make light of the situation.  In all truth he had been terrified to hear Sam had been floating in space for hours.

She sought his hand and interlaced their fingers.  “It was…” she scrunched her face and tried to find the right words, “probably the most distressing five hours of my life.”  She didn’t know how else to describe it.  This was Jack, so she went on, “I watched the Korolev explode, Jack.” He turned his head so he could see her now, “I knew Daniel and Cam were aboard… I thought they were dead.” She sighed, “and several Mother Ships went down… I didn’t know which one Teal’c was on…”

“Sam,” Jack interrupted her and she looked up at him then.  “I’m so glad you made it back.”

She smiled at him.  “Tell me what Dr. Braye said about the results,” she changed the subject, turning his wedding ring round and round on his finger.

Jack was silent for a moment, then told her simply, “The cancer is all gone, no mestat… what’s the word?”

“Metastasis,” she corrected him.

“Right; no spreading.  He says as far as they can tell I’m clean.  He wants to retest me in 3 months, then every 6 months for the next few years.   After that, he thinks I can have a pretty decent chance at living till my knees go out.” Sam leaned in and gave Jack a soft kiss, pulling back way too soon in Jack’s opinion.  He noticed she was mulling over something. “What?” he asked her.

“I spoke to Kvasir.  He said they would send a ship when they could—”

“Sam….” Jack interrupted her.

“He said they could put you in their stasis pod,” she paused because he was shaking his head.  “Just to help determine if it’s really all gone.”  Her tone was pleading.

“It is, Sam.  It’s all gone.” He looked deep into her eyes.  “I need you to believe.  I need you to know we have a future.  If they come and want to scan me, fine.  But in the meantime, let’s live as if it’s really gone.  Please.” His brown eyes bore into hers, and she knew he needed her to be as positive about this outcome as anyone.

“I will.  I promise,” she said, and she meant it.

“Let’s get you checked out and go home.” He suggested, getting up and pulling her by the arm.

And as they moved through the known procedures in the infirmary, in debriefing, in going home, Sam was suddenly glad for these simple processes, for the ease in which they fell back into them.  Because even though the enemy was at their door and they had no idea how to defeat them, she was familiar with the process of fighting.  She knew not to give up, not to give in, to serve and protect Earth at whatever cost.  Even though she had lived 8 years loving a man she could never have, and then when she finally had him he almost died; it was ok, because she was familiar with the process of waiting and hoping.  And now, because of Jack, she was familiar with the process of living.  He breathed life into her, taught her to love, showed her what companionship really meant; that even though they had barely spent time together, he offered her a shared life, an open partnership. 

And since they had come this far, and had overcome this much, Sam felt strangely confident that they would make it through the threat of the Ori; that her and Jack would have a future, that they would live ‘till his knees gave out, and maybe ‘till her knees gave out too.  She thought through that picture in her mind – her and Jack, old and gray, sitting together at the cabin, hand in hand.  And she smiled.

THE END

The next chapter is a brief epilogue which will be posted tomorrow.

Chapter Text

EPILOGUE

Eight months later…

Sam laid her head on the infirmary pillow while Dr. Lam palpitated her abdomen, pushing uncomfortably down around her stomach and bladder.  “Have you been eating regular meals?” asked the good doctor.

Sam frowned.  “Well, you know me…”

Lam shook her head.  “Sam, you have got to stop doing this to yourself.”  She pulled Sam’s shirt down and helped her sit up.  “You’re not a child, you have to eat and sleep just like every other human.  Stop working yourself to death.”  Sam looked down at her hands clasped in front of her while Lam scribbled something down on her chart.

“I’m fine, Carolyn.  I didn’t even pass out!  Just a dizzy spell.”  Sam tried.

“Sam, Mitchell said you had to hang on to the Teal’c to keep from falling over.  Have you had any other symptoms?” Lam asked.  With the Ori Prior plagues, they had to be sure to take every sudden illness into account, no matter how minute. 

“No, just tired.  Like you said, I probably should get more sleep.” Sam was trying to end the conversation and get out of there.

Lam eyed her and finally asked, “Is there any reason to believe you could be pregnant?”

Sam’s head shot up so fast Carolyn thought she might get dizzy again from the sudden movement.  Then she noticed how Sam’s manner became guarded, her eyes small and gloomy.  “No. There’s no chance of that,” was her only answer.

Lam cleared her throat uncomfortably.  She knew Sam and General O’Neill were married, and although they still did not live together 100% of the time, the couple saw each other frequently. “Okay… I’ll run the blood work and let you know if I find anything.  Now, go get something to eat before you fall over again.”

Sam jumped off the infirmary bed and was to the door faster than Carolyn could believe for someone who had just nearly fainted, a “Yes, Ma’am” could be heard near the exit.

It was several hours later when Dr. Lam strolled into Carter’s lab, a folder clasped in her hands.  She knocked briefly on the open door and Sam looked up from her spot.  She was hunched over a piece of technology, and Lam knew it was the Prior disrupter Sam had been working on, an attempt to stop the Priors from using the power emitted through their staff weapons. “Hey, Carolyn,” Sam greeted.

“Sam,” Carolyn nodded and moved inside, closing the door behind her.  Sam noticed the action and furrowed her brow, sitting on the stool behind her and squaring her shoulders.  “Did something show up on my blood work?” she asked.

Carolyn moved deeper into the lab, coming to stand by Sam’s bench, still a few feet from her patient, and placed the folder she had been holding down on the table.  Sam looked at it while Carolyn began, “Yes, something did show up.”  Sam looked at her then, mildly concerned.  “But it’s fine; you’re just fine.” Carolyn added, when she saw the panic etched on Sam’s features.

“Oh, okay.  So, anemia again?  I think I still have some iron pills from the last time…” Sam looked around, as if the iron pills were in her lab.

“Hey, Sam,” Carolyn interrupted her, “it says on your chart that you aren’t on any form of birth control, but you were pretty certain that—”

“Carolyn,” Sam stopped her from rambling.  “I can’t get pregnant.  It won’t ever happen, so there’s no reason to take pills…” Sam explained, with a voice that was shakier than Carolyn was accustomed to hearing from her.

“That’s interesting.  Who told you that you can’t get pregnant?”  Carolyn asked, she was never one to be intimidated.

Sam sighed audibly, “Carolyn, can we not do this?” Sam turned her head towards her monitor.

“You’re pregnant, Sam.” Carolyn stated, picking up the folder next to her and holding it out for Sam.  “I ran the test 3 times.  When I felt your abdomen it was swollen; there’s no mistake.” She added, knowing Sam would try to deny it.

Sam was silent. Her eyes had grown larger and she stared at Lam’s hand, the folder still dangling between them.  She reached out and took it, opening it and scanning its contents. Having confirmation, she looked up at Lam, wide-eyed.  “The brochures said…” she stopped, trying to remember what exactly the brochures had said.

“What brochure Sam? Who told you that?” Carolyn demanded.

Sam ran her hands down her face, her palms resting on her cheeks while she answered Lam, “Cancer pamphlets.  Jack’s chemo.  Something about sterility.”  Sam knew she was having a hard time making complete sentences and just hoped her broken words made some sense to Carolyn.

Carolyn’s mouth made an “oh” shape, though no sound came out.   She bit her bottom lip, then smiled at Sam.  “Sam, chemotherapy can lead to sterility if there is significant damage to the reproductive organs… but it’s not an assured thing.  And General O’Neill only had a handful of treatments, right?”

“Six,” Sam answered, shocked but this news.

“Well, you’re pregnant. He probably was not exposed enough to cause permanent dama—”

Lam had to stop as she was suddenly concerned that Sam would pass out, and she took several steps until she was directly in front of Sam, and held onto her forearms.

“I can see this is a huge shock.  But it’s a good surprise, right?” Carolyn wasn’t sure how to handle this situation.  She never dealt with pregnancies, just your run of the mill doomsday plagues, gunshot wounds, nanites...  This was a nice break for her, she thought.

Sam looked up at her and gave her a huge smile.  “Yes, Carolyn.  This is very, very good news.”

Sam got up, now completely ignoring Dr. Lam, and set about shutting down her computer.  She turned off the device she was working on for the Ori fight, picked up her keys from a drawer on her desk, and flipped the lights off on her way out.  She had a plane to catch.  She had to tell Jack that their future just got a little brighter.

THE END.