Work Text:
The Journey
Life isn't about the final moments, it's about the journey, it's about the process. - J. Michael Straczynski
Part 2: Injustice
The world rarely spins the direction we want it to, but it's when we find solace in the little things that the injustices have less of a hold on our lives.
She is laying, feeling defeated, on her mattress while her brother is sitting crossed-legged, hands on his ankles, at the foot of the bed and to her right and, though she can't see his face sprawled as she is with her stomach down and her arms cushioning her head, she knows his brow is knitted in confusion, or maybe he's just frowning, but either way his expression bespeaks his puzzlement.
"Sam...?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper in deference to her mood as he breaks the silence.
"Yeah?" she asks back, her own voice a little too annoyed with him even though her current predicament is far from being his fault.
"How does this work?"
She knows he is talking about her science project, because he has been staring at it for the past hour in silence and it's the only object in her room he is not familiar with. "It's just like a wind turbine, only instead of working with wind, it's moved by sound waves," she explains.
She is very excited about this project, just like when she started it, so the next half hour is spent elucidating to her little brother - in terms as simple as she can make them - about the device's intricacies. He is enraptured by her explanations, and though his mind is not very inclined towards science, this doesn't mean he can't grasp the value of her work.
Pity the science fair commission wasn't as appreciative and got stuck on its instability.
Sam was always aiming for first place, but in this case she would have even accepted a pat on the shoulder. Anything, really, to at least acknowledge its relevance in a world that is growing increasingly noisier.
At the end of her well-refined speech, Mark wants to see how it works, so he tells her to stay silent and approaches the project warily, like it might explode if he makes a sound. He looks at her and she nods in encouragement. He smiles and starts talking to it.
Sam hangs back for a moment, not because she doubts her project will work, but because she finds her brother to be extremely sweet in that he thinks that it will work better if he talks to it while any other noise might do the project harm.
Finally she gets up from the bed and envelopes him in a very tight embrace, only later realizing that Mark's whole strategy was to obtain this very reaction from her.
In the face of his apprehension she can't even feel disappointed anymore, and though she still thinks she merited recognition for her idea, she can't be bothered with caring about it any longer. The world isn't just, but it's through injustice that she strengthens herself. And it's through injustice that she realizes her brother's love matters more than winning a colored ribbon.
As a ten-year-old girl Sam knows she doesn't have a lot of friends. Actually, she is very much aware of having only one friend. His name - and yes, her only friend is a boy because they're easier to relate to and to befriend - is James, a rather common name really, yet the boy is anything but. He is skinny. Sometimes Sam worries that he doesn't really eat much and not for lack of food in his house, but because he prefers spending his time reading than eating. He says it's a waste of time, much like sleeping, and he would do without both if only his body would allow him to. His complexion is naturally fair; no matter how much time he spends out in the sun he just won't get a tan. His hair is black as the night, but it becomes auburn around the edges whenever touched by light. Sam likes to think of him as a rather unique individual, one that surprises her with every gesture.
She's not shocked that he has no friends at school that first day they meet, but the truth is she has no friends either and is under no illusion of becoming best buddies with the cheerleaders or whoever is cool in this town. So she goes to sit at his table and eats with him, totally unfazed by the fact that he doesn't share a word with her for the entire first week she's there. Mostly she attributes his initial silence to his focusing on the book he was reading. Frankly Sam has little interest in paleontology, but she can appreciate a boy who loves reading and studying as much as James does, probably because she's the same.
When he eventually questions her - and of all things he inquires over her presence at his table - she feels a lot more at ease than she ever did talking with other kids.
Their friendship grows speedily and they're quickly becoming inseparable.
The best part about her friendship with James is that they often spend long stretches of time in silence, each bent on the book that enthralls them the most, and when they do talk, it's to share their new discoveries. Whether they are actually eager to hear what the other has to say doesn't really matter, because at least they have someone to share their passion with, someone ready to listen and to understand their fervor.
Mark makes friends easier than Sam does. He's a decent basketball player and sports have a way of easily connecting people, but his acquaintanceships aren't as meaningful as Sam's relationship with James. Mark has playmates, she has a real friend, one she doesn't want to lose.
The moment she realizes that, she actually gets a little scared because she knows that her father is going to move eventually, and the rest of the family will follow. The good time she is having with James, though, prevents her from fully processing that thought and she makes a subconscious decision to ignore the part of her mind that knows better. She is, after all, a kid; she is bound to make mistakes and it's absolutely normal that she wants to have friends.
Her father's stay at Fort Meade is actually one of the longest she has experienced so far. So much so that when it ends, as she learns that he gets his new orders and they have to leave for the next city, Sam actually runs away, or at least she tries. She only goes as far as James' home to seek asylum before her mother catches up to her and drags her back to the house they are about to vacate. James is just as crushed as she is about the news and comes to visit her before the move.
He is shy around other people, so he hides behind his mother's back until Sam is in reach and then he takes her smaller hand in his frailer one and doesn't want to let go. Sam leads him to the backyard while his mother and hers take a seat in the living room. There, the two kids sit on the back porch. So small are they, that their legs don't reach the ground two steps below. They dangle their feet a little and then they lay down with their back on the wood, their eyes firmly shut against the reality of the situation and the tears that threaten to spill.
"I asked Mom and Dad if they could adopt you, but they said it doesn't work that way." James is smart, but he lives in a world that is entirely his own and reality has a way of hitting him hard in the face because of that.
Sam turns to face him, and as she does her long hair brushes his cheek and he laughs because it tickles him. She wants to say something, but in the end she starts giggling too and forgets what she was about to tell him.
When her mother eventually comes to take her home, they share a hug the intensity of which thrives on emotion more than it does on force, without losing in strength.
She hates that she has to leave James behind, but she is glad she spent the time she did getting to know him; he is the best friend she'll ever make in a long while and at least, when she is a little down, she has memories of him to cheer her up. They send each other letters too, and in the way two kids can, they stay in contact for a long while.
His friendship gives her the conviction that one day she'll be able to have real friends with whom she will gladly share the best moments of her life.
Sam works on the Stargate for two whole years before Dr. Jackson comes along and figures how to make it work.
Not a lot of people know this, but the only reason Dr. Daniel Jackson's discovery is of any use, is that she had spent two years making the Stargate operational by devising a computer interface and a program able to substitute for the device to operate it - a device that nobody even knows exists, or how it is made and that must be as alien as the Stargate itself.
However, weeks before they bring Jackson in, she gets reassigned to Washington where she is supposed to be studying ways to either make the device exploitable for its original and intended purpose, or find alternative uses for it. How exactly she is supposed to do that without the device itself to study she isn't sure, but apparently that's her new job description and she can't change her orders, and it's not for lack of trying. That's why she isn't considered for the mission through the Stargate while a man that can't even hold a gun gets to go to an alien planet where unforeseeable threats lie in wait with a team commander who's a gung-ho Colonel who won't appreciate the value of their mission. That, of course, is the official reason. The real one, however, has a lot to do with General West being a total chauvinistic ass who will never, in his lifetime, trust a woman to do 'the job of men'.
Of course, if she really wanted, she could ask her father to put in a good word for her, maybe push and pressure a couple of people placed in the right position, but Sam never wanted to get anywhere because of her father, and she is not going to start now. Besides, the project is classified and there is no way Jacob Carter wouldn't want to know more about this assignment that has his daughter seeking his influence.
In the end, what she has of the mission to Abydos - the planet the Stargate transported the team to - is a mission report she reads every day until she can recite it by heart. It's not much and it's definitely not enough, but it's all she has.
She lies awake most nights thinking about her missed opportunity, the only opportunity she might have had of walking on an alien planet. She hates that it's the Air Force's chauvinistic mentality that prevented her from going because she joined for the exact purpose of going to space, and even though at the time she wasn't aware of the existence of a device that could create a stable wormhole, it still stings that she was passed over for the mission.
She spends a whole year thinking her life is unjust, until she gets a call from General Hammond - from Colorado Springs - from under Cheyenne Mountain.
She hops on the first available transport with an exaggerated enthusiasm that isn't going to win her any points in anybody's book. During the flight she steels herself for the reality of going to space, to that planet that looks a lot like Egypt. She is under no illusion that the team will receive her with open arms, but she has no intention of letting this opportunity slip from her fingers either. She won't let another Daniel Jackson steal her place on the team.
She works on the particle beam accelerator for three months. It's a group effort and she doesn't really want to take all the credit for the task's accomplishment, but she knows that it's thanks to her determination not to give up on Colonel O'Neill that the project has been approved. It's from her desperation that the idea originates in the first place, and from that same source comes the resoluteness to convince the other scientists on Base that hers is not a vain project, born from an unstable emotional state.
In truth, better than anyone else, she knows that her state of mind more than anything else is the reason why she needs to come up with the idea, why she needs to find the solution. Because despite her trying to convince Janet otherwise, missing him is a problem, one she doesn't really want to analyze, right now, but one that is there and she knows she has to bury if she wants to keep on going. She has to assure herself, more than anyone else, that she is doing this only for professional reasons.
It would be too much, too soon. She can't take it.
She goes home only once a week, but only because one time, when she was alone in the middle of the night, still working when the other scientists were all resting, General Hammond had come down to the lab to order her home. She's always the first to get to the lab and the last to leave (and sometimes she spends consecutive days there without realizing time is passing). Janet comes to visit the labs often to check on her, to make sure Sam isn't starving herself to death.
Daniel and Teal'c, she knows, are itching for action, but they are unable to help, since this project is out of their field of expertise.
Seeing as how life at the SGC proceeds normally, she is a little startled to find that neither of them is being temporarily lent to another team, but Daniel claims to have a lot of translations to work on and artifacts that need cataloging, and Teal'c just gives sideways, annoyed glances to whomever tries to even hint at the fact that his expertise might be helpful in the field.
The truth is neither one of them wants to risk not being there when the Colonel is eventually rescued, and she doesn't have the heart to tell them that it will take a lot of time for the beam to be functional, if it ever will be. Mostly, she doesn't have the strength to let them go further away than their Base quarters; she has come to crave their presence as an anchor to reality. She knows she has no right to, but she's willing to allow this selfish act to germinate if it means she can work faster to get the Colonel back home.
It's Teal'c's steady presence in a lab where he doesn't belong that makes her remember that her physical needs are important if she is to give her best; it's Daniel, with his questioning and his unlimited ability to listen to her ramblings, that acts as a much needed sounding board to her tired mind. And through it all, she doesn't allow herself to even think for a second that the work they are doing might prove fruitless because the man she is trying to bring back home might very well be dead. She sees the idea form in the airmen and scientists all around the Base, but she doesn't let the suggestion crawl its way into her subconscious.
Not everyone bears the same expression and for that she is relieved. It's actually in the young and hopeful eyes of Lieutenant Simmons that one day she finds the determination to keep working. Sam thinks if Daniel's assessment of the Lieutenant's feelings towards her are right, then the young technician must have a pretty clear idea of her state of mind right now; that she is a little too obvious to him. But not once does he say a word in that regard and she realizes that he is a much more honorable man than many with a higher paycheck, and, possibly, he is sporting a mild case of hero-worship for the members of SG-1.
When the Colonel is back on Earth she goes home and cries herself to sleep.
She has worked herself to death for him, to bring him back, and the first thing he did after meeting her was fall in the arms of another woman. Sam is under no illusion that her feelings are reciprocated, she has never been, but it's difficult to realize that he couldn't even trust her to bring him home. It hurts a lot more than it should. She has put her life on hold for him for three months and he didn't even bother to have some faith.
None of it feels right to Sam, but reality has never claimed to be just.
She knows she has to overcome her pain, that it's her problem and hers alone, but it doesn't feel fair. Nevertheless, she hangs up her pride and her feelings and goes to work the following day. She doesn't see him and she doesn't seek him out.
She guessed Daniel would have come to talk to her, to check on her emotional state, but Teal'c is the one that shows up in her lab, like that's exactly where he belongs. Without saying a word he helps her get through her resentment better than any long, elaborate and compelling speech Daniel might have come up with. Sam realizes in that instant that under a gruff and menacing exterior, Teal'c is the one member of SG-1 who sees everything that happens around him. Daniel is constricted by the need to see good in everything and everyone, she is blinded by naïveté, and the Colonel by his cynical mind. Teal'c merely adopts silence and gives himself time to judge the situation.
She thinks if she has to be transparent to someone, Teal'c is the one she would pick. Despite everything, she knows that he will never say a word about it, and not for lack of wanting to help, but for the mere instinct to protect the secrets of those who he values most. She can't help but be amazed at the care and love he exhibits in the moments she needs him most.
Before going home again that evening, she stops by Teal'c's room, where she finds him in kel'no'reem. She doesn't wish to disturb him, so she sits in a pose that mirrors his own and meditates quietly about the past months.
It's only when she wakes up under grey covers, in rumpled BDUs and a place she doesn't recognize as her bedroom, that she realizes she has fallen asleep on the floor of Teal'c's quarters. It's then that she finally comprehends that whatever happens, she can count on the Jaffa to have her back, even when he is faced with an emotional turmoil he has probably never experienced himself.
Never before has she allowed herself to love a man so completely.
Even as Thera, with no actual memory of her past life, she could feel an inextricable connection to him.
And the hardest thing, she thinks, is that now that she has allowed herself to express her love so freely, going back to pretending it doesn't exist is going to be twice as hard. It was a lot easier before, when all they confessed to were feelings, when she could kid herself by saying he would have stayed behind for Daniel and Teal'c too, that he cared about them in the same exact way.
But now... Now she has the memory of his lips pressed against hers, of the taste of his tongue inside her mouth; now she knows how his fingers feel, pressed against her face and neck as he draws her closer as they spend yet another night mostly away from their bunks.
Her only relief is that they never dared go much further than that, too afraid of being caught sneaking around, that and the fact that neither Daniel nor Teal'c witnessed anything that might be considered against regulations. Besides, Daniel's still trying to apologize for not finding his way to his friends on his own to think about why his two teammates were so close together to begin with.
The darkness of the infirmary isn't really helping her sleep, actually being harder to endure than light because of her CO's proximity. It was usually around this time of night that he would come and get her so they could sneak out, sometimes just sitting and holding each other, relishing and reinvigorating in the other's presence.
Jonah and Thera never needed words, just like Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter never have in the field. It's the similarities that are actually breaking Sam. If she could easily distinguish the two personalities, if she could convince herself that she isn't Thera and the Colonel isn't Jonah, then she could tell herself that it was a collateral effect of the memory stamp that drew them together. But she can't. Because she is Thera and the Colonel is Jonah, and how can she think that everything that happened can fit in that room?
It's an overwhelming knowledge and she lacks the mental strength to hold everything back. She just can't do it anymore.
She lies awake thinking about options. If she can't sleep, at least she wants to do something productive with her time, and, anyway, the Colonel will probably want to keep everything hidden again, and though he might have the determination to actually do that, she is convinced she doesn't.
Retirement, she knows, is out of the question for both of them; they can't leave the battlefield of a conflict they had a major hand in beginning. She thinks about asking for reassignment to another team, but she crosses that option off her list for the simple reason that people would start asking why and she doesn't need the rumors about the two of them sleeping together start again - if they have indeed stopped, like she hopes. The best and only plausible solution would be for her to ask to get reassignment to the labs; she is, after all, the foremost expert on Stargate technology presently on Earth, and she knows more than one scientist who would want her working in the labs full time. It wouldn't particularly solve the problem because the Colonel is still the Base's Vice Commander and the fraternization rules would still apply, but at least they wouldn't be forced to work as closely together and risk compromising an off-world mission.
The fact is, their feelings were never their own. From the day they were assigned to SG-1, as members of the Air Force, they committed to the war against the Goa'uld and put their duty before anything else, and especially before anything that might arise between them. Such are the rules and regulations to which they vowed to serve.
She is only sorry that her inability to control her feelings will inevitably result in the remodeling of the flagship team.
In an attempt to block the tears that are threatening to spill, she turns her head, but she forgets that the Colonel is sleeping on her left. Only he is not actually sleeping, and if she makes an about-face now she's probably going to hurt them both even more.
Even with only the night lights on to dimly illuminate the infirmary, she sees his eyes openly staring at her with that look that is half regret and half sorrow, but comes out thoroughly despairing.
She wants to crawl out of her bed and get into his; she wants to feel his strong arms around her, holding her tightly in their clutch; she wants him to smile and crack a joke; she wants to hear him speak and wonder why his expressions are all so foreign yet familiar to her ear.
Instead, his lips move in a smile that wouldn't look so forced if the world was ending. She thinks that if he looks at her like that for another second, she'll start crying and lose any hold on reality she might still have. As if sensing her thoughts, he schools his features and looks again like his usually composed self, his face a page written in invisible ink. She doesn't think it particularly fair that he is so good at keeping all his emotions to himself when she can never hide anything from him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, when she stares a bit too long with that look in her eyes that has too many ingredients and no balance whatsoever.
She is tempted to answer with a half-assed remark, but they both know what it is he wants to know and neither of them is in the mood for the kind of conversation that would ensue if she were to start ignoring her agony. She settles for the truth, as unaccustomed to keeping something from him as she is after close to a month spent in what she can only call a relationship with him. She will have to work on that.
She confesses her plans and he allows her to put forward her reasons without interrupting. When he takes a deep breath, however, she knows he let her say her piece to prepare a convincing counterargument. She is not under any delusion that he will allow her to proceed with her scheme.
"What happens when we're off-world and we need you to get us home? What happens when your replacement gets one of us shot or captured, Carter?" His voice takes on a calmer, more soothing tone, and she is struck by the intimacy of his whisper in their dark surroundings. "If you leave and anything happens to any of us, you're going to blame yourself for the rest of your life even if it's not your fault."
She wants to tell him that there is only one Sam Carter and close to twenty SG teams; she wants to remind him of all the times her help on Earth would have been more valuable than her help off-world; she wants to be sassy and give him a piece of her mind. The problem is... he's right. If anything happens to any of them and she's not there she will blame herself, and whether or not it's her responsibility doesn't matter.
She catches his hand itching to cross the divide between their beds and settle on hers comfortingly, but he manages to still it on the grounds that it's not right anymore. It never was.
"We're gonna get through this, Carter."
She nods unconvinced and closes her eyes. The more she looks at him the less she believes his words. The more she looks at him the less she wants to. And, mostly, because the more she looks at him the less she thinks it just that they have to.
As a military brat, Sam learned to accept that she couldn't see her father every day, that despite the fact the whole family followed him to every military base he got stationed to, sometimes he would be out of contact for long periods of time.
Somehow, even knowing everything about the technology the Tok'ra possess and their scientific superiority, and despite knowing that her father is being well-cared for by Selmak and that he has still friends even if some of his peers might not think as highly of him as they once did, she finds it harder to accept that Jacob is going to be more out of contact with her now than he ever was when she was a child. At least when she was a kid, she knew he was somewhere on Earth, while now he's somewhere in the galaxy and she has intimate knowledge of his foe. Anubis, elusive as he may be, is an enemy she knows poses a threat far greater than that of any human being on her home planet. Besides, despite all his differences with the other Goa'uld, he does consider the Tok'ra his enemies, and has ways to extract information that are far more effective than torture.
As childish as the feeling is, she needs her father by her side right now to help her make heads or tails of the mess that her life is becoming. She's struggling to come up with ideas to defeat a half-ascended Goa'uld bent on galactic domination and has so far only managed to devise a weapon - incidentally with the help of her father - that can kill its army of Super Soldiers, but that in no way makes them less deadly. Also, she's trying to get over her inappropriate feelings for her CO by dating a cop she's not really sure she even likes enough to serve that purpose - not to mention the unfairness of her actions. And finally, she has trouble coming to terms with what her unconscious tried to tell her on the Prometheus. That mission seriously puckered with her head.
She's desperate both for counsel and for someone to take the decisions and responsibilities away from her, and she has no idea who she could talk to. Actually, she does, but he just left the planet and isn't going to return anytime soon.
She's in the infirmary mulling over how unfair life is, when Teal'c comes to visit. For a while she contemplates spilling her guts to him, but then she realizes that for all the love she carries for the Jaffa, and despite how helpful he always is in providing comfort and counsel, he is not the type of friend to whom she'd go to with that type of problem. Sam realizes none of those whom she calls friend are, because they have to fight a battle together, and if she shows this kind of weakness she's afraid they'll stop trusting her. And that just can't happen.
At one point, she imagines going to Janet, but she can't put her in the position to decide between her duties to the Air Force and a friend, and that's part of the problem too - her friends are either military or involved with the SGC so much so that she can't allow even the hint of a thought of impropriety.
She forces a smile despite herself, and if it comes out subdued and falls flat, she's ready to fault her injured leg for it. Everyone knows that since her joining with Jolinar she's far more resilient with drugs and nobody but Dr. Brightman - who is currently on Sam's case - knows she's had a stronger dose.
Teal'c inquires about her well-being in that way he has of making even the most irrelevant conversation sound like the fate of the world is being discussed. She doesn't get the chance to thank him for coming to her rescue before Daniel marches in and crowds her with his zeal. Any other day she would be understanding of his need to know she is fine, there, with them; she would enjoy his company and relish the mind-numbing conversations that are typical of their infirmary visits after an accident. But today she just wants to be left alone and be given time to sort through some of the chaos reigning in her head.
Of course, since she doesn't have the strength to deflect the worry that would follow her request for solitude, she keeps the forced smile plastered on her face until Dr. Brightman comes to her rescue by ordering her teammates to leave.
Daniel squeezes her hand before leaving, and she feels bad about all the resentment she has harbored for him in the last hours. He needs to reassure himself of the fact that she's still alive and she was selfish in wanting nothing more than being alone. Teal'c bows his head in that way that assures her he understands much more than he lets on, that he is sorry and he is there for her if she ever needs it, but won't resent her if she doesn't share her troubles. She wonders how a man can be so expressive with just one gesture.
Seeing them like this, Sam is hard pressed not to cry.
Alone, she desperately tries to sleep. She is tired both physically and mentally, and doped up as she is, falling asleep shouldn't be a Herculean task. Unfortunately for her, Sam has always had difficulties sleeping with something troubling her mind, which is why, when nearly an hour later Colonel O'Neill sneaks into the infirmary, he finds her still awake.
He slips quietly onto the stool next to her bed, and leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. In his hands he is holding a pen she imagines he has brought with him from wherever he was before he came here.
"Hey." He greets her sotto voce in deference to the quiet infirmary and mindful of the fact that he shouldn't be there.
"Hi, Sir."
"I'm sorry I couldn't come visit before now."
She puzzles at the validity of that sentiment, because he's already visited yesterday. However, Sam has come to recognize that he can't bury his sensibility in his voice, and that's where she finds he really is compunctious, "I was stuck in a meeting with Hammond and couldn't get away."
"Bad?" she asks. He hasn't started fidgeting yet, and Sam interprets it as a sign that something is wrong.
"Not good."
It's only in deference to her injured state that he doesn't get into details, but she knows as soon as she'll feel better he'll clue her in. She nods in understanding.
"Listen, Carter..."
The start is promising, he sounds confident and steady, but she can see that that's as far as his assuredness goes. She'd gladly prod him to say more, if she didn't know he would backpedal as a result.
He takes a deep breath before he starts over, "I know right now everything pretty much sucks, so if you need anything..."
He stumbles over the words then, and she doesn't blame him for it; she admires him for getting that far without starting over ten times. Any other day she'd meet him halfway and put him out of his misery, but today she needs to hear the words and is too much of a coward to actually help him through this.
He seems to be waiting for her to nod in understanding and stop him right there, but she doesn't. She can't. Unperturbed, he presses on, "I'm here for you. Awkward and useless," he adds in a deprecating tone meant to deflate the weight of his word. "But here, nonetheless."
She knows the reason he's come to her is that he saw her ready to die when facing that Kull Warrior, and she's torn between shame and pain at having being caught so bare. In the end, she is won over by his gentle care and her chest tightens with affection.
She won't tell him about her efforts in getting over her feelings for him, or the weird conversations with his and her father's projections on board Prometheus; however, she'll confess her fears about the inevitable confrontation with Anubis. He won't give her a pep talk and even if in her life chaos will still reign as sovereign, at least this one thing will be better.
But right now all she wants is to fall asleep with his face burned in the back of her eyelids.
"Thanks," is all she manages before giving in to the silence.