*****
The Jaffa’s breath was hot and menacing as he breathed down her neck "Choose, or you will *all* die, " he hissed his eyes showing no compassion and no tolerance for hesitation.
"Then I choose myself " replied Sam Carter defiantly. The Jaffa scowled.
"You may not choose yourself. Give me your decision now!" he shouted in her ear and she jumped and inhaled sharply. "Fine," he grinned toothily, his face resembling a Cheshire Cat, "your hesitation means I choose." Examining the three men in front of him, he aimed his staff weapon, charged it to its highest setting and fired twice. Then he changed the setting again and fired another two times.
*****
Slowly sitting up and allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, Sam breathed deeply. She could feel the rapid, insistent pounding of her heart, and willed herself to relax. It was just a nightmare. A nightmare that had happened yesterday... Or had it? She didn't quite remember. The only thing she did know for certain was that her head ached and that she was exhausted and that the clock beside her read 0213. So, she turned over and pulled the blanket back over her head. Sleep came.
*****
Several minutes later Sam was awakened by the gentle, yet insistent shakes of Janet Fraser. "Sam? Wake up," she urged .
"What time is it?" asked the captain groggily. Janet checked her wristwatch.
"0845. You've been asleep for two days," replied the doctor, and sympathy and compassion crept into her brown eyes. "The service is at ten hundred."
Captain Samantha Carter then realised her nightmare was real.
*****
The day was appropriately miserable. Rain poured onto the small, dismal group of people who tried their best to huddle under black umbrellas. No one attempted to shift his or her weight from one foot to the other. Firstly, they were standing at attention, and secondly, any motion would most likely result in the person's fall from grace into the mud The sun was buried behind thick black clouds and therefore had left the earth without much light or heat. So, there they were. Cold, wet, and dark was the day that the men and women of the Stargate project bid goodbye to Daniel Jackson and Teal'c.
Colonel Jack O'Neill appreciated the non-irony of the weather. It complemented his mood, which wasn't sad. He was downright angry at the world. Two of his good friends had been killed in front of him without cause by a Jaffa looking for something to do. That definitely gave him grounds to be furious.
Out of the comer of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Sam beside him. She had an unusual far-away glaze to her blue eyes. Other than that, there was no expression on her face. Maybe it hasn't clicked into her brain that her friends are dead. He pushed it back into his mind and tried his best to concentrate on what General Hammond was saying
There was a hole in her umbrella. That was the only thing that registered in her mind. There had to be a hole in the umbrella, because there was water soaking into the back of her dress uniform and trickling down her spine. It was very uncomfortable. Sam couldn't concentrate on what the general was saying, mostly because she couldn't hear him. The rain pelting on the vinyl umbrella was ringing unusually loudly in her ears. She was also wondering why they were having the service outside. Probably because they buried Daniel and Teal'c there, dumb-ass, her mind countered irritably. It wouldn't make a lot of sense to have a service in the Gate room if the graves were outside.
As the back of her dark blue uniform started to stick to her skin, she heard the sad sound of a lone trumpet being played somewhere. From the lessons drilled into her head from many years ago, she saluted. Then she realised that out of some fluke, she had saluted at exactly the same time as everyone else. After she lowered her right hand, she stood there, lowering her umbrella and watching the graves. She was already wet, what was the use of an umbrella now?
"Sam?" a familiar voice said quietly. Ripping her eyes away from the two newly made mounds of earth in front her, she looked at Jack. His face was expressionless save for the worry lines that had appeared on his forehead. "C'mon, we have to go inside." When she made no move to leave, he took her elbow and guided her out of the military cemetery.
*****
The next morning, Jack glanced up as Sam entered the control room. Out of habit, and a bad habit of that, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair next to him "Where's Teal'c and Daniel? We are going to P4X905 this afternoon, right?"
The room came to a sudden silence.
Jack grabbed her arm and led her out of the room, trying desperately to ignore the stares of disbelief that he knew were being exchanged behind his back. Once they reached the briefing room (the only room close and unoccupied at that moment), he shut the door and sat down. Slowly she did, too, and as she did he saw the confusion of emotions sketched on her face.
"They're really dead, aren't they?" she asked in a whisper.
"Yep," he replied just as quietly and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"It's my fault," said Sam matter-of-factly, and looked into his eyes. It was like having someone look into your soul. "It's my fault."
"No--" started Jack, but she cut him off.
Shifting her line of sight to the wall directly in front of her, she said, "It is. The Jaffa asked me who was going to die. I chose myself, but it was the wrong answer." Her voice was strangely distant. "I chose the wrong answer, and now Daniel and Teal'c are both dead. They're dead," her clear blue eyes were turbulent, "and it's my fault."
"Its not," assured Jack. He took her hand and squeezed it, trying to give himself some comfort as well as his friend.
*****
Several days came and went. The general sadness and malaise had, for the most part, lifted itself from the base. Normal workings were back in full swing. General George Hammond had noticed something odd, however. Colonel O'Neill and Captain Carter never left each other's sight. He had the impression it was a completely unconscious gesture; he knew they weren't doing it on purpose. But it was a bit strange.
That afternoon, three days after the funeral, Hammond knew his task would not lie lightly on the colonel. He called him into his office.
As he entered the room and shut the door, Jacks face was slightly strained with apprehension and a hint of anger. Hammond had noticed that lately; Jack always looked angry. "Yes, sir?" he asked.
"Sit down, please, Colonel," Hammond motioned to the chair sitting in front of his large desk. Jack did as he was bade and sat stock-still. "This isn't coming as a complete surprise. I would like you, and Captain Carter, if you feel that that is appropriate, to go through Doctor Jackson's and Teal'c's belongings."
"Yes, sir."
"How are you holding up, Colonel"" asked Hammond in a softer voice.
"Fine, sir," replied Jack. Seeing that he was not going to get any other answers from him, Hammond nodded.
"Alright, then. Dismissed," the general watched the man leave without a sound and wondered how much he had just lied to him.
*****
Sam now understood why Daniel had hated to work in his quarters on the base. The sound of rain pelting the roof was thrice amplified in the room It was, however slightly soothing.
She sat down on the bed; the attempt at making it was plainly obvious. Sighing, she clicked on the lamp resting on a small table beside the bed. Sam opened the drawer and gently took out the photograph lying atop an empty picture frame.
It was the picture they had taken last month, or rather, the picture Daniel had insisted incessantly on taking. The four of them, Teal'c, Jack, herself, and Daniel, respectively, up on the mountain. They had taken Teal'c up there on their day off. She remembered that day well for two reason Jack was telling "what or whom ever walks into a bar" jokes for the entire time and it had gotten to the point where she was ready to kill him, commanding officer or not, and they had taken the picture.
She lifted out the oak frame and set it facedown on the blanket. As she attempted to take off the back, the door opened with a bit of a creak. "Hey, Sam," Jack said, sitting down beside her.
"Hey," she said, and gave him a little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Remember this?" She put the photo into his outstretched hand and went back to her task of undoing the catch on the frame.
Yeah, that was fun, was all that he said, and simply stared at the photo. Once Sam got the backing off, she gently pried the photo out of Jack's hand and carefully put it into the frame. She replaced the back and held it up. "Nice," he told her.
"Do you want it?" she asked, eyes wide. He waved his hand.
"No, you keep it," he told her, and she nodded gravely.
"Bye." she said in parting, and left him to the sound of the rain, the empty room and his empty heart.
*****
Teal'c was alive. He had to be alive; his hand was twitching. Ignoring the horrible pain though out her body, Sam crawled across the Gate room ramp to the injured Jaffa. "Teal'c?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. His lips moved. She could have sworn it. "Teal'c?"
"Farewell, Sam. You are a true friend, " he said, her ear right next to his dry lips so she could hear him. Using the last bit of his strength, he took her hand and clasped it tightly. He had never called her "Sam" before in the entire time they had known each other. Then his large hand went limp.
"Sam?" Daniel, a large staff-weapon burn hole over his heart, said with audible distress. "It hurts." That was all he said a simple statement that brought her great anxiety.
"I'm here, " she told him, and he seemed to relax a tiny bit. With an enormous amount of effort, she brought her hand up and stroked his hair. "It's gonna be okay." She hoped with every fibre of her being that he could believe her lie before he died.
Even though she didn't know it at first, he did believe her lie. Then he exhaled his last breath and was still under her hand.
*****
"Goddamnit!" Jack cried, and was almost shocked at how loud the coffee cup was when it shattered against the concrete floor. "Ah," he grimaced, annoyed, and bent down to pick up the remains of the mug he had thrown. As he got down on his hands and knees, something silver caught his eye. Inching over to the makeshift bookshelf Daniel had jury-rigged, Jack put his hand behind some ancient language books and removed a small box wrapped in silvery paper.
He untied the ribbon encircling the box and opened it gingerly. When he saw what was inside, he sighed with audible relief. It was the ring Daniel, Teal’c and Jack had bought. for Sam for her birthday. That damned scatterbrained archaeologist had said he had lost it. Don't speak ill of the dead, his mind scolded. Fuck you, he replied. Jack was certainly glad Daniel hadn't lost it. He took out the simple band of silver and read the inscription. He already knew what it said; he was the one who made it up, but he read it again and decided he would give it to her on her birthday tomorrow as planned.
Opening the pocket that was inside his fatigue jacket, he slipped the ribbon back into the box and put it into his pocket. He hoped she would stop feeling responsible for Teal'c's and Daniel's deaths. Soon.
*****
She was going to kill herself. There was no other alternative; there was no other way she could serve penance for what she had done. How could she keep on living when the deaths of two of her comrades, two off her best friends, were on her conscience?
Sam stared at the picture she had placed on her bedside table. Just stared. And wondered if she should leave a letter. Already she had done enough harm; how would a note be looked upon? Thoughtful? Polite?' Expected? Self-centred? That decision alone had to make her think. If she did write a letter what would she write? Something that makes sense and won't make them think you're completely crazy.
She finally decided it would only be considerate to leave a letter explaining her actions. Good idea, her mind approved. Rummaging around the room, she eventually found a clear sheet of paper and a blue ball-point pen under her bed. She grabbed the hard-cover book she had been reading for the past few weeks on someone’s recommendation, placed the paper on the cover and started to write.
I have decided that I cannot live with the weight of my friends' deaths upon me. I can see no other way to meet with my crime. Please forgive me if this causes any other grief or suffering. -Samantha Carter
It was short and to the point. She didn't sign her rank; she wasn't doing this as a captain in the United States Air Force. She was doing this as a person not a title. Folding the paper into a nice little rectangle, she slipped it in between the frame and the glass of the picture and placed the photo facedown. She grabbed her coat and left her room, switching the light off before she closed the door.
*****
Jack knocked on Sam's door, hoping to talk to her. Not anything in particular, but he did hope to get her talking about her feelings. It might get her out of this weird state she was in.
No answer came from inside, so he opened the door a crack and turned on the light. The room was empty. Just as he went to leave, the down-turned picture frame on her bedside table caught his eye. Hs strode over, righted it, and pulled the square of paper that was shoved into the frame. Unfolding the paper, he quickly read what had been written neatly on it, crumpled it in his hand, and touched the light bulb of the small lamp. It was still hot. "Damn it," he hissed, and raced out without bothering to close the door.
*****
The path leading to the cliff was steep and particularly treacherous. Normally it would have been a relatively easy climb, but the mud was slick and watery. The rain soaking into her jacket was far away in the line of Sam's thoughts. I should be there in about ten minutes...
Suddenly, a rock under her right foot came loose. She slid forcefully onto her knees, clawing helplessly at the mud above her. Her groping fingers found a tree root and held on tightly, pulling herself back onto her feet. She could barely feel the mud that was sticking to her feet, but it didn't matter anyway. She had to keep going.
*****
Jack half wished he had a jacket of some sort, but at this point, his objective was to find Sam and talk her out of killing herself. He did know where she was going; there had to be some symbolic gesture of why she put the note in the picture frame. There was a cliff by the spot where the photo was taken. That's where she was going. And if he was wrong... well, God help him if he was wrong.
He spotted footprints in the mud ahead of him. They had to be fresh, because anything older than two minutes would have been washed away by the rain. Finding new incentive, he picked up his pace.
*****
Finally, she stood on the cliff. The edge of the cliff, actually, and very carefully did she try not to look down. Second thoughts were conjured up when people looked down. She did look up at the sky, however. It was grey, and rain fell on her face. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and started to take a step towards the ravine.
"Sam, no!" shouted Jack, eyes wild. She stopped her foot but didn't turn around.
"Go away, Jack. You can't stop me," she informed him.
"I just did, didn't I? Sam, stop and listen for a minute. Please?" he pleaded. She hunched her shoulders and nodded, but kept her back to him. "You have to realise that it is entirely your fault that the Jaffa killed Daniel and Teal'c. He killed them, and is responsible for their deaths, not you. Do you really think that they would think you guilty? Really? No, they wouldn't. I know that for a fact, Sam. And besides, flinging yourself off a cliff isn't going to bring them back, no matter how hard you wish it would."
"Go away!" she retorted, but he continued his relentless logic.
"I'm not going to go away until you figure out that this won't solve anything. And hey, if you kill yourself, don't you think I'll be lonely?" be asked quietly. "Daniel and Teal'c were my friends, too."
"Why didn't the Jaffa kill me?" Sam pondered aloud and she snuck a glimpse at the drop down. It was a very, very long way down.
"I truly don’t know, Sam. I don't know. Come on back away from the ledge." he urged. "You are my friend and I don't want to sec you get hurt. Do it for Daniel and Teal'c. Do it for yourself."
A moment, which passed like an eternity, went by. Finally, she turned away from the cliff, walked a few paces towards him, and sat down wearily in the mud. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. She buried her face into his neck, and sobbed silently, throwing her arms around him.
Putting his other arm around her and holding her tightly, he rocked her back and forth, letting her cry. "You're safe now," he whispered, and felt his own warm tears mingle with the rain that fell on his cheeks.
*****
The morning was a pleasant one. The sky was a clear blue, and there was nor a cloud in sight. The air carried the scent of rain, but the mud had dried for the most part. Jack looked over at Sam, who was laying a bunch of purple irises on Daniel's grave. She saw him watching her and gave him a smile. Handing her the other bunch of flowers for Teal'c's resting-place, he waited for her to finish. Once she stood next to him, he took out the box that was in his inner-pocket.
"Here--we all got this for you last month. Happy birthday, Sam. Belated birthday--" he said, giving her the small gift box.
"You actually remembered?" She asked quizzically. He grinned.
"Yes, amazingly. Open it." he directed her. She gave him a suspicious look, but opened it nonetheless, and let her mouth make a silent "O."
The silver ring inside the box was simple yet gorgeous. It was her type of jewellery, and obviously one of the guys had discovered that. As she held it up, she noticed that there was an inscription on the inner ring:
To S Love J, D & T.
She looked up and saw the expression of hope on Jack's face.
"Thank you," she said simply, and gave him a hug.
"There's a chain in there somewhere. You can put the ring on it and wear it under your shirt; that way no one can bitch at you for breaking uniform regulations," he grinned maliciously as they walked out of the cemetery together, enjoying each other's company and the feeling of emptiness gone from both of them.
The End.
End Notes: ~Hope you enjoyed. Please note that my goal in life is to kill off or severely injure every member of SG-1, just because. (Don't make me get into it. :D) Sooo... three down, one to go. Email me at: el_chucacabra@hotmail.com
*Famous last words: "Don't worry, it was only a small freight train."*
*Famous last words: "Don't worry, it was only a small freight train."*
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]