P3J 595 was a thoroughly unremarkable world, or so Jack O'Neill thought. There were trees, trees, and more trees; and no unfriendly natives to liven things up. Not that unfriendly natives were something Jack wished for. Friendly natives were better, usually. But planets full of trees were the worst; and the best; kind of planet to visit. At least no one was trying to kill them. So it was a bored and relieved Jack who had just settled into his sleeping bag when he heard a muffled sound. He didn't want to investigate, but it sounded human in origin, which meant it came from inhabitants he didn't know about, or from one of his team. It was the latter. When Jack got up to inspect, he found his second-in-command crying her eyes out.
Captain Sam Carter wiped at her face when she noticed Jack's approach. "I'm sorry, Sir," she said, getting up off the ground.
"Don't apologize." He motioned for her to sit back down, then took a seat himself. "Being military doesn't make you any less of a--"
"Woman, Sir?" she suggested, a trace of bitterness in her voice.
"I was going to say human being."
"Oh. Sorry, but the military isn't overly kind to females in it's ranks. I think the reason I got harassed as little as I did at the Academy was because my father is a General." She looked away from Jack's face at the word "father."
"Are you all right, Carter?"
"Not really, Sir. My father... he has cancer." Tears sprung in her eyes.
"Oh..." Jack gently pulled Sam towards him. "Go ahead, cry."
She did so for several minutes, creating tearstains on the shoulder of his fatigues. When she had regained control, she pulled away from him. "I'm sorry, Sir."
"Quit apologizing. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.
"Thank you. I found out when we were in Washington; that was the first I had seen of him in quite a while. He... he told me he was trying to get me into the astronaut program at NASA. What was I supposed to say to that? Being an astronaut was my dream for practically ever. And then, I just totally rejected it, and he told me he has lymphoma." She paused and squeezed her eyes shut as another tear ran down her face. "He said something about it being my dream. And then I said it should be my choice, and he said that fathers have dreams too."
"It's true." Sam looked up at the interruption. She had almost forgotten Jack's presence. He continued, "When they're little, you feel like they could be anything; you can't help but imagine all the possibilities. And then they get older, and they have dreams of their own, and you become absolutely committed to helping them achieve their dreams." The corners of Jack's eyes glistened wetly.
Sam sniffed. "I just wish I could tell him that my dreams have come true, beyond anything I ever imagined. But I can't tell him, and he's going to die thinking..." She stopped and put her hands up to her eyes, trying to staunch the flow of salty tears. "He's going to die thinking that I don't care anymore, that I abandoned all my dreams."
"He's not going to die." Jack said calmly.
"You can't know that." Sam's voice was thick with pain and tears.
"No. No, I can't," Jack admitted. "I just have faith. When your father dies, which won't be for a long time, he's going to be immensely proud of you. That's what I believe, and that's what you have to believe too."
Sam managed a small smile. "Thank you, Sir. I hope to God you're right."
Jack grinned. "Trust me."
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The End.
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