Title: Nobody Nowhere

Author: Carol S. Comer

Email: carolscomer@aol.com

Status: complete

Category: SJR

Spoilers: Meridian

Season/Sequel info: 5th Season subsequent to the events of Meridian.

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: This is definitely PG-13 as opposed to my standard barely PG writing. Adult consensual relations (not graphic) and some adult language involved in the story

Summary: Sam flees SGC when she finds out she's pregnant.

Disclaimer: The characters and situations depicted here are owned by Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. No copyright infringement was intended. This story was created and the characters used for entertainment purposes only and no money changed hands.

Author's Notes: Many of you may find this story out of character. We are so accustomed to thinking of Samantha as so strong but I believe, no matter how strong, she is unquestionably a woman and all of us have our breaking points. Who among us hasn't thought about just dropping everything and leaving? The possibility of a fresh start and a clean slate can be appealing when you find yourself in over your head.

Archive: SJD

**********

Sam stared at the blue dot in silence then leaned over her sink and threw away the plastic stick. She sat down heavily on the side of her bathtub and shut her eyes in defeat. It was over.

Daniel would have been happy for her, she thought sadly, but he wasn't here to support her any longer. She was alone and she would have to do this by herself.

With an effort she forced herself to finish drying her hair and dressing for work. Angry recriminations, possible alternatives and worst case scenarios ran through her mind in a jumble. She knocked over her water glass in her distraction as she put away the hair dryer and swore at her clumsiness.

Sam finally gave in and sat down on the cold tile of her bathroom floor. She picked up the pieces of glass and cried openly.

Maybe because she was pregnant or she could have been crying because Daniel was dead. Sam wasn't sure. It was all so overwhelming. Daniel had been gone more than a month but the wound was still so fresh. Sam reached for a tissue and blew her nose before wiping the tears from her eyes. She had gotten to the point again that her face was so liquid it just didn't matter whether it was tears or snot. She laughed bitterly and tossed the tissue away.

"I need to remember to do that in reverse order next time." She said to the walls.

Sam dropped one last piece of glass into the trash and struggled to her feet.

She looked hard at herself in the mirror and barely recognized the face looking back. Dark circles ringed her eyes and deep lines drew the corners of her mouth. Even when she tried to smile, her eyes were flat and it just looked more like a grimace than any expression of joy.

Sam straightened her shirt, reached for her jacket hanging on the towel rack and shut the door behind her.

*****

Colonel O'Neill surveyed the empty conference room. He was hoping to catch Major Carter before the briefing at 0700. It would not have been unusual for her to show up extraordinarily early simply to review the reports and analysis prior to the briefing.

Jack picked up a dry erase marker and drew a happy face on the board while he waited. His mission report sat characteristically untouched on the table. But as the clock crept toward seven and Sam still had not appeared, Jack realized that any conversation between them would have to wait.

Sam had been devastated by the death of Daniel Jackson. It had been hard on everybody at the SGC, but Sam took it particularly badly. Personally Jack was worried about her and professionally, he needed her assurance that she was doing okay. He wouldn't get that today.

The Colonel felt a rush of disappointment when the briefing room door opened and only Jonas appeared with Teal'c in tow. When General Hammond arrived, however, Jack's disappointment gave way to irritation that the Major was late.

*****

Her head pounded from the impact of the steering wheel. Sam reached up and felt her forehead. Her fingertips were covered in blood. The Major slumped back against the seat angry at herself for losing control of the car in the rain and grateful she was still in one piece. Sam wrapped her arms around her belly. She fervently hoped that her only injury was a nasty cut above her right eye.

Major Carter closed her eyes and rested, waiting for her rescue. She expected that the police would come soon, but minutes passed and the only sound was the continued pounding of the hard rain on the roof of her sedan. She finally crawled out into the morass and looked up to the guardrail above.

Sam found herself down in a ditch below the roadside. Between the dark of the early morning hour and the gray of the storm she realized that unless someone had witnessed her accident, no one would know she was down there.

Finally, training kicked in and she started hiking down the roadside. `Sometimes you just got to save yourself,' she thought grimly. The Major pulled her coat tightly around her and made her way down the hill.

By the time she had reached the nearest intersection, the storm had washed away the blood of her cut. Her rain-darkened hair lay plastered to her forehead covering her injury. She stumbled into a diner and felt a rush of relief to be out of the wet. Sam shook off like a puppy and slunk down into a booth.

The waitress ambled over shaking her head. "My, my, my," she muttered around the pen she was chewing on. "Aren't we the wet one?" She poured a cup of coffee for Sam. "What can I get for you, hon?"

It was after seven and Sam knew she was late for the briefing. She was about to ask for a phone to call command when the waitress leaned in closer and parted Sam's bangs with the pen she had been chewing on.

"Child!" She exclaimed. "What bastard did that to you?" Sam started to explain she had been in an accident when the weight of the last six weeks simply fell on her in a crushing blow. She didn't want to be Major Samantha Carter, pregnant wormhole physicist and one of the surviving members of SG-1. She didn't want that life anymore – or at least Sam didn't want to be around when they took that life away from her. She knew she'd be facing court-martial as soon as her condition was known. And known it would be. The day would soon come that there could be no hiding it.

"Nobody," Sam said smoothing her hair to hide the cut.

The waitress stared at her appraisingly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Nobody broke my arm once too. He's a mean son'a'bitch, ain't he?"

Sam smiled at that. She was starting to warm up a bit. The shock of the impact was wearing off and the dry heat of the diner took the edge off her chill. Command could wait, Sam rationalized, she HAD just been in an accident after all. She needed to clear her head from the collision.

Sam took a drink of the coffee. "What did you do?" She asked.

The large woman, "Cindy" her tag said, smiled thoughtfully and sat the coffeepot down on the table.

"I left," she said simply. "In the middle of the night. In the rain. With just the clothes on my back and a few dollars in my wallet." Cindy smiled softly at Sam. It made her look almost pretty. "Kind of like you just did, maybe?"

Sam neither confirmed or denied Cindy's implied question. She didn't intend to deceive. She just wasn't ready to let go yet. "Where did you go?" she asked instead.

"I hitched a ride out of town. Ended up here. Got a job," Cindy said gesturing around. "Now I got a place of my own. A man that respects me." She emphasized the last. "I even go to college." She shrugged humbly but Sam could see how proud she was.

"Wow." Sam gasped in awe – partly playing a role she was starting to get a feel for but partly out of true respect for a woman that came from nothing and was pulling herself out of the darkness with sheer willpower and determination.

"I couldn't do that," Sam said. "I couldn't just get in a truck and hope for the best." The Major could – she had been trained in hand to hand combat and firearms. Physical safety wasn't an issue. But Sam's military persona was being buried deeper under the little charade Sam was playing.

"Look," Cindy said. "I get off at eight." She glanced at her watch. "That's only about an hour from now. You just sit here and eat some breakfast and then I'll take you into town."

`Okay, this is going too far,' Sam thought. She needed to end the game now. Sam had yet to tell a lie, and while it had been a fun distraction from reality, it was time to return to the real world. Major Carter had responsibilities.

Sam opened her mouth to thank Cindy and decline the ride when the waitress reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She looked at it a second and then laid it on the table. "With twenty bucks," she said, "a bus will get you almost anywhere in the state."

Sam was flabbergasted. It was conceivably an entire day's tips that Cindy was offering to a complete stranger. "I…, I couldn't," she stammered as she tried to push the money away but Cindy was insistent.

"Go Greyhound." She smiled. "You just get yourself to a new town and start all over again," Cindy told her. "You can do this by yourself. You don't need `nobody' for nothing."

Finally Sam stopped struggling and simply stared at the bill. "Thank you," she said quietly. How could she reject such a selfless sacrifice?

Cindy just waved dismissively. "Now, how `bout some hotcakes for breakfast then?"

"That sounds good," Sam whispered. Cindy just nodded and left her table.

*****

She disappeared on a rainy Tuesday morning.

Jack paced the debriefing room waiting for her to show. Anger that Sam was tardy had long given way to concern as morning fled. Teal'c and Jonas sat impassively at the conference table and watched the Colonel walk the length of the conference room.

"Any word yet, General?" Jack asked as Hammond returned.

He dismissed the guards standing at attention on each side of the entry and shut the door quietly.

"Sit down Colonel," he instructed grimly. Jack threw a marker across the room in frustration. It was as if he already knew.

"What happened?" he asked stiffly.

General Hammond walked around the conference table and stood in front of Jack.

"They found her car down in a ditch off 101," he said quietly. "She wasn't in it."

"An accident?" Jack asked suspiciously.

General Hammond gently patted Jack's shoulders. "Sit down, Jack, please," he instructed. Jack sat heavily in the black leather chair and slumped in frustration.

"We don't know much." General Hammond cautioned pulling up a chair next to him. "The front end of Major Carter's car was damaged where she ran through the guardrail."

Jack carefully dropped all expression.

"The police have found no evidence of foul play," the General continued. "According to the authorities, it doesn't appear as if she had been bumped from behind or forced off the road, but, of course, that was just preliminary analysis. We won't know anything until the lab results return."

Jack nodded slowly. His rigid stance and forcefully controlled movements belied the calm he worked to exhibit.

"Do we know if she was hurt?" He asked.

"There was some blood in the car." The General added. Jack looked up sharply. It was a momentary lapse. A brief look of horror crossed his eyes before Jack's face fell carefully neutral. "A little on the dash board, the steering wheel and some on the front seat."

"How bad?" Jonas asked.

Jack's expression just closed in tighter. He was stock-still and his eyes never left the General.

"Not enough to be fatal, assuming it's the Major's blood in the first place."

"Okay, sir, what do WE do?" Jack asked without blinking. The General wondered if he had even taken a breath.

"The police are still working on it," the General responded. "But I do need the three of you to go `clean' her house before they investigate further."

"Sterilize it, General?" the Colonel asked.

"You know the drill – anything pertaining to her work here disappears." Jack nodded.

Hammond turned to leave. "Oh, and Colonel, I've also called in special investigations given the nature of the Major's work here and the extent of her knowledge," the General added.

Jack nodded his agreement. It implied the General did not believe that whatever had happened to Sam had been an accident regardless of what the police had reported. Jack pushed back his chair and stood.

The General nodded to him and called the guards back in.

Jack straightened until General Hammond was out of sight and then slumped down over the table and pounded his fists on the wood. "Dammit!" He cried. "Dammit, dammit dammit." Jonas looked at Teal'c in surprise and Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow in response.

Jack walked out without a word. The guard's eyes remained forward never leaving the fixed spot on the opposite wall.

*****

Cindy pulled up to the bus station and slowed to a stop. Sam just looked at her.

"You're doing the right thing," Cindy assured her.

"Am I?" she asked more of herself than the near-stranger beside her.

"Are you supposed to wait until they kill you?" Cindy asked reaching for gash on Sam's forehead.

The image of Daniel on life-support, wrapped in gauze, skin melting into bloody pulp, flashed in Sam's mind. She closed her eyes in response. "No," Sam answered quietly although she and Cindy were talking about two different things.

"I know you're scared." Cindy squeezed her shoulder supportively. "But this is the bravest thing you'll ever have to do."

Sam nodded, but knew that – to the contrary – this was the weakest thing she'd ever done.

Sam knew she could still end this. She could just admit what she'd done, thank Cindy for her kindness and just call the SGC, Sam thought.

"Now get on that bus."

Sam took a deep breath and opened the car door ready to confess. `Now or never,' she thought. Sam stopped and leaned back in.

"Thank you." She said closing the car door carefully. It wasn't what Sam had intended to say.

Cindy just smiled and shifted into gear.

As Cindy pulled off, Sam stood and looked at the bus station before her.

`What in the hell am I doing?' she thought. Then she felt a pang in her abdomen as if her body was answering.

"Right," she said to the wind. Sam slung her purse over her shoulder and resolutely walked inside.

*****

Jack, Jonas and Teal'c wandered around Sam's apartment wearing latex gloves and rubber soled shoes.

"What are we looking for Colonel O'Neill?" Teal'c asked as Jack flipped through the mail on Sam's coffee table.

"Officially," he said, "anything pertaining to Carter's work at Stargate Command." Jack popped a letter with no return address in a plain white envelope into the box he was carrying. There was nothing innately suspicious about it, but it was unexplained so it went into the box. He was looking for anything that would solve the mystery of her disappearance. "Unofficially," he continued, "anything that will explain what the hell happened to her!"

Teal'c nodded and wandered about the room slowly with his hands clasped behind him. He examined her shelves as the Colonel opened drawers and rifled through her papers. Occasionally Jack would remove something from a drawer and place it in his box. Jonas took to her bookcase and removed all the classified books and reports and any volume with notes or papers. He had a growing stack of astrophysics texts on the floor beside him.

Jack moved from room to room scouring for any sign of her. He stepped into the bathroom and a piece of broken glass crunched under foot.

"Teal'c." The colonel called and dropped down on his hands and knees on the bathroom floor. "There's broken glass in here."

Teal'c joined him crouching on the tile. "There may have been a struggle, O'Neill," he said. Jonas appeared in the doorway looking concerned.

Jack picked up a few more pieces and looked in the trash. There he found the remnants of the broken cup.

"Maybe not," he added as he picked through the shards in the wastepaper basket. Nobody stops to throw away glass in the midst of a scuffle, he thought. Then Jack saw the unmistakable shape of the plastic pregnancy test.

"What the hell?" he muttered as he pulled it out of the trashcan. The fading dot of blue was still drawn on the pad. Jack fell back against the sides of the bathtub stunned.

"Damn."

*****

`Where to go?' Sam thought to herself as she studied the myriad destinations available to her. `L.A., maybe?' she thought. `Or New York!' Finally she settled the issue by letting Greyhound decide.

"Can I help you miss?" The aging man behind the counter asked pushing his fallen glasses up on his nose. Sam had seen Daniel make that gesture so many times. The shock of recognition caused a renewed wave of pain.

"When is the next bus leaving?" Sam asked her voice cracking slightly.

The ticket agent looked at the clock in the corner. "28 minutes. Gate C."

"Do I still have time?" she asked.

"Yep." He nodded.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought.

"I'd like a ticket for one," Sam told him and took her first affirmative step toward running away.

"Sure thing," he said as he ripped a paper receipt from a bound book. "That's a hundred even."

Sam pulled out her wallet and counted out the bills. It was more than she expected, but she had plenty. Sam laughed – she could have gotten a ten percent military discount, but showing her identification would have definitely defeated her purpose.

Cindy's twenty was still folded up in the pocket of her coat, but she was saving that for sentimental reasons. Cindy had been right, though. She could have gotten almost anywhere in the state for twenty bucks. A one-way ticket to Denver was only $14.

The agent took her money, stamped her ticket with a loud crash and pushed it through the window.

Sam took the ticket and smiled. As she walked away, she remembered to ask: "hey, where's this bus going?"

The agent looked at her as if she were crazy, then just shook his head and chuckled. "Rapid City."

"South Dakota?" Sam asked with disappointment.

"Isn't that where you wanted to go?"

"Yeah, sure," she said with little conviction. "South Dakota, you betcha." But twenty minutes later she boarded the bus. The deed was done.

*****

"Is the apartment clean?" the General asked.

"Yes, sir," the colonel responded, "but there is something you should see." Jack fidgeted as he stood before the General at his desk.

"Go on." General Hammond had never seen the Colonel act quite like this before.

Jack cleared his throat nervously. "Well, sir, we found this at Carter's house." He fumbled with the snaps on his jacket and removed the strip from his pocket and placed it on the blotter pad never quite looking at the General.

Over the course of his career Jack had been regularly insubordinate, disobeyed orders and repeatedly `acted in a manner unbecoming an officer.' It wasn't as if he were unaccustomed to trouble. And each time the Colonel had been called on the carpet, he would sit rigid and defiant, simply daring the powers to be to punish him. But this, this was so personal, Jack almost felt naked before the General.

General Hammond picked up the plastic stick and turned it over in his hands. His eyebrows raised in question as he examined the pregnancy test.

"Do you know anything about this Colonel?" Hammond asked warily.

"No, sir," Jack answered not looking up from his hands clasped at his belt. "I mean, I don't know anything about the pregnancy test, sir."

The General looked at him a beat. "But you know something else about Major Carter, Colonel?" he asked slowly.

"No, sir." Jack nervously wiped his face. "I mean yes, sir, General sir." Jack paused and took a deep breath. Jack finally raised his eyes to the General.

"Colonel?"

He nodded. "What I mean is – I didn't know Major Carter was pregnant."

"And…" the General prompted.

"But I am aware of circumstances that would make it possible she could be."

"I see," General Hammond said evenly.

"Yes, sir," Colonel O'Neill said staring off at the wall behind the General. "I …" he stumbled for the right words. "I am aware that she had intimate relations with another."

The General cleared his throat. "Anyone we know, Colonel?"

"Can we just say a `fellow officer' and leave it at that, sir?"

"Sit down, Colonel," the General spoke rather firmly.

Jack looked up at him and nodded. "Yes sir." Jack slumped into a seat across the desk from the General.

Hammond stared at him thoughtfully. "Jack," he said softly, "is this child yours?"

"Potentially," Colonel O'Neill responded looking away. "Well, probably," he concluded. "I don't know of anyone else." Jack shrugged uncertainly.

"I see."

"After Daniel's funeral," Jack explained, "Major Carter came over to my house." Jack straightened in his chair. "The Major was upset and, well sir, one thing lead to another and…" Jack trailed off.

"I don't need details, Colonel," the General admonished.

"Sorry sir."

It was out now. Jack sat unmoving, prepared to face his punishment. He knew the consequences of their policy violation and could only wait for the General to relieve him of duty pending an investigation.

General Hammond leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

"Colonel," he started seriously.

"Yes, General," Jack said. He resolutely raised his chin and met the General's stare. `This is it,' he thought.

"Could Major Carter's condition have anything to do with her disappearance?

"Sir?" Jack asked in confusion. That was not the direction he anticipated the conversation would take.

"Since the Major carries a symbiote marker," the General said forming the thought as he spoke, "could that have made her a target for, say, the NID?"

"We don't know the effect that Carter's blending with Jolinar would have on a pregnancy," Jack acknowledged nodding thoughtfully. His brain quickly took the sharp turn in path necessary to follow the General's direction. "Although Doc Fraiser would know better," he said, "I would suspect that Sam would make an interesting `test subject' for certain individuals or organizations." Jack spit the words `test subject' in disgust.

The General nodded grimly.

"But how would they know, sir?" Jack asked. "I didn't even know."

The General looked up sharply and Jack's face colored.

"Sorry sir."

"Let's just deal with that aspect of this later," he concluded as he stood. "Right now, we need to find her, and we need to find her fast."

"Yes sir." Jack was dismissed. He saluted quickly. It was out of character between them but was as much a quick `thank you' as it was a gesture of respect for command.

As he left the General's office, Jack hoped like hell he had done the right thing. The colonel only wanted to find Sam and, unquestionably, this was relevant information to the investigation. Of course Jack's confession implicated them both in the violation. Sam's life was now in his hands in more ways than one.

*****

Her face was plastered all over the news that night and in the papers the next morning. But the Air Force officer with her bright smile, crisp uniform and golden hair bore little resemblance to the spiritless woman with her rain-darkened hair that sat slumped in a diner and drank coffee at dawn. No information came from the public and the local authorities made little progress in the ensuing days. It was as if the Major simply drove her car off the side of the road and disappeared forever.

Moreover nothing from Sam's apartment had provided a clue. The unexplained letter was simply an advertisement disguised as correspondence. Jack was angered as much by the deception as he was by the lack of information he found. None of Sam's papers were helpful.

Jack was desperate. He and Hammond had called in every chit they were owed, pressured every ally they could claim and threatened anyone they could strong-arm for information and nothing was forth- coming. Jack had even sought out Maybourne.

*****

"You always call when things get messy," the voice came from behind.

"Hello Maybourne." Jack said turning slowly toward the man behind him. Harry Maybourne stepped out of the shadows holding a gun on the Colonel. They were still uncomfortable in their role as reluctant allies.

Jack raised his arms away from his pocket. "Its good to have friends in low places," he said.

Harry patted the colonel's jacket for a weapon and then relaxed his grip on his gun when he found none. Maybourne gestured Jack closer with a wave.

"You come for Major Carter?" Maybourne asked.

"You know?"

Maybourne snorted in disgust. "It was all over the news Jack. How out of touch do you really think I am?"

"Clearly not much since I'm asking you for information."

"True enough." Maybourne nodded. "True enough."

"Well?" Jack prodded. Harry shrugged.

"Nothing," he said in response.

"Nothing?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Nothing," Harry repeated. "I started digging as soon as I heard." He added with a wink, "I knew you'd come looking for the major."

"Glad to know I'm predictable." The Colonel said sarcastically.

"Hey, I like her too." Harry said putting away his firearm. "Not as much as you do, of course." He said taunting the Colonel.

Jack started to protest and Maybourne just rolled his eyes in response.

"I came up with zip," Harry continued. "If anyone has her, Jack, it ain't the NID."

Jack was almost disappointed to hear. Once again it left him with nothing to go on.

"Damn," the Colonel muttered looking at his feet. "Thanks, anyways, Har…." Jack looked up at his only to find he was alone in the alleyway again.

In a last ditch effort, General Hammond picked up the red phone, but even with the full resources of the United States government at its disposal, the investigation went nowhere.

It truly was as if she simply disappeared.

*****

Fourteen hours and two transfers later, Sam arrived in Rapid City. She was truly nobody nowhere now. Sam could pick any name, any history – she could live any life she wanted.

The major almost laughed as she sat on the bench outside the bus station in Rapid City. It was colder than she had expected, but not uncomfortable. More importantly, however, Sam felt free.

Sam adopted `Jolie" as her new identity since Jolinar had become such a big part of who she was. She took a room in the house of an elderly lady - a Mrs. Berkshire whose husband had died three months earlier – and got a job in the badlands diner outside of the National Park. The area was breathtakingly beautiful but a study in contrasts between man's cheesy souvenir shops and nature's towering red rock spires.

The first day on her feet serving coffee and shuffling back and forth from the grill to the booths out front damn near killed her. She marveled at the fact that she could run ten miles with an eighty- pound pack on her back, but walking twelve feet carrying a coffeepot for eight hours wore her out.

The first weeks she fought waves of nausea over the bacon frying on the grill. But Sam forced herself to keep going, if nothing else, out respect for Cindy who had put her faith and a twenty-dollar bill in Sam's hands.

This was her life now, she thought. Sam smiled and fingered the twenty in her apron. It was well worn from Sam carrying it around for so long. Life seemed so much simpler.

*****

Two weeks after her disappearance, General Hammond called Jack into his office.

"Colonel, as of right now, I'm designating Major Carter as Missing in Action."

"No word sir?" Jack asked with little hope.

"No word Colonel."

Jack just nodded. "Someone should inform her father," he said with no emotion.

"We have already sent word to our Tok'ra contacts," the General informed him. "However, Jacob Carter is presently unavailable." The Colonel understood that to mean Jacob was undercover, most likely on a Goa'uld ship somewhere, and sending a message was impossible.

"Understood," the Colonel nodded. He was about to leave when he stopped in the doorway. "General?" He called.

"Yes Colonel?"

"How does a major in the air force simply disappear into thin air?" he asked.

"I don't know, son," Hammond answered sadly. "I just don't know."

*****

She was afraid she'd be bored by the drudgery of her new life but the sheer variety of humankind that passed through the doors of her restaurant kept her engaged. Truckers on the road far from home. Families vacationing in Winnebagos. Couples backpacking across country. It wasn't intergalactic travel and alien races, but there was something to be said for earthly normalcy. She read – not for information but for pleasure. Sam wrote a bit, hiked in the Badlands and even lowered herself to watching television – a national pastime she had never had the time nor inclination to indulge in before.

Moreover, the Director of the Badlands had taken to dining frequently at the counter. Dr. Thomas was a geologist that had walked away from a lucrative career with the oil companies to oversee operations for the National Park Service.

Sam felt a common bond with him from the start.

They often talked shop as the dinner crowd dwindled and Sam was grateful for the company. One evening as Randy was explaining his work on an off-shore drilling rig, Sam became engrossed in the conversation and let her faηade drop. As she was discussing the potential expansion of magnetic resonance utilization, Sam realized that Randy had stopped drinking his coffee and was simply staring at her.

"Who are you?" he finally asked.

"Nobody," Sam answered defensively. Randy stared a moment and took a sip. Sam squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"Is this our government at work?" he asked. "Witness protection, maybe?"

Sam snorted. "If I were in witness protection," she said ironically, "don't you think they would have placed me in a position a little more suited to my education and training."

Randy nodded. "You got a point there." He looked around and leaned in conspiratorially. "So you're just, what, hiding here?"

Sam shrugged without comment. Randy took that as a `yes.'

"But why waitressing?" he asked. "Or maybe, `why here?' is the better question."

"I wanted to be nobody, nowhere." She said. "I figured that out of the way diners in need of help don't ask many questions." Sam stood to clean up the counter. "But apparently diner patrons do!" Sam glared at Randy. He looked a bit abashed.

"Not a word." He said crossing his fingers over his chest. "I promise. Cross my heart." Sam shook her head and smiled.

"But tell me something," he said handing Sam his empty coffee cup. "What are you running from?" he asked. "A man? The cops?"

"Myself," she said as she pushed through the swinging doors and left the dining room. Randy stood looking at the door and then threw a ten on the counter and turned to leave. He had been dismissed.

Sam locked up and turned off the lights. Alone in the dim restaurant she sat in a booth and thought about what she had left behind. Sure she missed Stargate Command sometimes – and she always missed Jack (and Teal'c, Janet and General Hammond – but mostly Jack). But that had been such a `big' life, it was almost a relief to be living such a small one now. Sam was beginning to understand what had happened to the Colonel when he was trapped on Edora. To walk away from the pressure they faced there and to live so simply was appealing. She had finally come to terms with him turning away from her on the planet. It wasn't about her. It never was. Two years later, the wound Edora had left was finally healing.

Moreover the changes in her body were consuming. Here she was going on seven months - visibly pregnant (big as a house, she thought) – unmarried in a small South Dakota town and nobody said a thing. Her hair now reached her shoulders and her cheeks were full and rosy. She even thought Randy had a bit of a thing for her, fat belly, chubby cheeks and all. She found herself resting her arms across her distended stomach to support the weight of the coffeepot when she got tired. Sam marveled at how functional a belly could be.

Sam was beginning to get excited about motherhood. Everything in her life now was different. She still questioned the hasty decision that had brought her to the country. At the very least, Sam thought, she wasn't likely to get shot by a Goa'uld raising a kid outside of Rapid City. Running away, Sam had done without thought. But what was done was done and the major couldn't take it back. She made her peace.

Sam thought about Jack all the time, though. It wasn't as though when she walked away from the SGC, she left behind all those unresolved feelings for her commanding officer. `Oh no,' Sam thought, `those issues followed me here.' She missed him painfully.

She wondered how he would react if he knew he was going to be a father again. On lonely nights when she couldn't sleep and Mrs. Berkshire had long since retired to her bed, Sam would have long conversations with him in her head. Lying alone in her bed in the deepest hours of darkness, she could almost feel his arms around her again.

They had only been together once. It hadn't been enough and, at the same time, it was too much. Sam thought it was almost better not knowing what Jack's touch felt like than to be able to relive his caresses in her mind so clearly and have it denied to her so cruelly.

The night of Daniel's wake she had stumbled over to his house drunk with grief and blinded by tears. He met her at the doorway and she fell into his arms sobbing. Jack simply stood and held her while she cried. As her body shook with misery, Jack patted her back reassuringly and when Sam calmed, Jack led her into the living room where she curled up in his lap on the couch. He stroked her hair lovingly while the tears intermittently coursed down her cheeks. Neither said a word.

When Sam calmed, she sat up and looked at Jack with big, watery eyes that made him melt. He kissed the tears off her eyelids and then her cheeks and as he made his way down her face, she raised her chin in response. Their lips met and the two tenderly made love on the sofa.

She left before he woke and they never spoke of it again.

*****

Six months had passed since Sam disappeared and there had been no word. Jack still didn't know where she was or even if she was still alive. There was no fortress for Jack to storm, no enemy to kill. He couldn't save her. They couldn't even find her.

Jacob Carter had finally come. Working with Tok'ra allies, Sam's father found nothing to suggest she had been taken off-world. Sam had to be somewhere on Earth, Jack and Jacob both agreed, but nobody knew where.

Jack fought a growing fear that she gone for good. If it wasn't the NID and Sam wasn't off-world, Colonel O'Neill was beginning to wonder if a simple act of random violence could have claimed her. What other explanation was there? he wondered.

Jack finally voiced that fear to Jacob as he was leaving. Sam's father closed his eyes and dropped tiredly against the railing in response. Somehow Sam imprisoned by the Goa'uld was less fearsome to him than Sam dead in a musty cellar somewhere. It was Selmak who answered – Jacob could not. "We cannot give up on Major Carter." He said. "There is no evidence to suggest she was taken. There is no evidence to suggest she was harmed."

"But the blood in the car." Jack raised.

"Insignificant." Selmak stated.

"Jack." It was Jacob. "We can't lose faith here." Jacob clasped Jack's shoulder. "That's not going to do anybody any good." Jack nodded in agreement.

He could see the battle raging in Jacob's face. Sam's father wanted to stay and help search for his daughter with all his heart, but Jacob knew there was nothing more he could do to aid the investigation. In the end he was needed – and could be more useful – elsewhere. Jack held his gaze significantly until Jacob dropped his arms and turned to leave.

Jack had his own internal debate raging. It wasn't his right, but Jacob needed to know.

"Jacob." Jack finally spoke up as Sam's father walked away.

Jacob stopped and turned in question.

"I shouldn't be the one to tell you this," Jack said cautiously to the older man, "but I think there's something you should know."

Jacob raised an eyebrow in response.

"Sam – she's pregnant." Jack said. "At least she was when she disappeared." Jacob's eyes widened in surprise. "It may be why she's gone," Jack added with a grimace.

"Holy Hannah," Jacob blurted. "Sammie?" Sam's father was visibly shocked. "Jack, I don't know…" He couldn't finish his sentence. "Didn't know..." Finally he looked imploringly at the younger man. "Find her," he commanded. "I don't care what it takes. Just find her."

"Yes sir."

Jacob turned away with obvious effort and willed himself to walk up the ramp to the Stargate. He crossed the threshold without looking back afraid that he wouldn't leave if he stopped.

Jack was somewhat surprised Sam's father hadn't asked the obvious question before he left.

Jacob didn't need to.

*****

Randy had taken to helping her clean up and shut down the diner on the weekends.

He joked about the growing expanse of her waistline but never asked about the baby's father. After the conversation between them a couple weeks before, Randy had simply stopped asking any personal questions. He knew it was the fastest way to make her clam up.

Sam enjoyed Randy's company, but was careful to keep him at arm's length. Jack may have succumbed to loneliness with Laira, but he had been trapped on Edora against his will. This was her choice and she wasn't going to make that mistake. You just don't start something unless you mean it, Sam thought. Hearts are too fragile to simply play with.

*****

It took a while for him to get accustomed to Jonas after Danny died, but now Jack had a young Captain – Darby – to contend with in Sam's place. He disliked them both intensely. It wasn't personal. They simply were not Sam and Daniel.

Moreover every pregnant woman he saw sent pangs of loss through him. He had the chance to be a father again and now it was gone. Jack swore with a vengeance - stringing a course of expletives together like he hadn't since his special ops days.

Daniel would have been happy for him, he thought sadly, but Jack was alone – always – and he would find her himself, even if it took the rest of his life.

*****

The first pain of labor caught her completely off guard. The baby was coming early.

Against her better judgment, Sam had sought limited pre-natal care. The fewer tests that were run, she thought, the better off her and her baby would be. The consequences of her impulsive decision so many months ago were mounting. If running away cost Sam her baby, she thought, she would never forgive herself. Suddenly, she understood something else about Jack O'Neill that she couldn't truly grasp before. Some foolish choices you never stop regretting.

Sam doubled over in pain and dropped the coffeepot she was holding. Randy reached Sam before she hit the ground.

*****

The ER nurse connected a fetal monitor and another took Sam's blood pressure. Probes, monitors, sensors – there wasn't a damn thing left in the room that they hadn't stuck up inside her yet, Sam thought. Sam's patience was waning. It took hours, but the obstetrician finally came.

He studied the monitors and was troubled by the results. The baby's oxygen levels were too low and its heart rate erratic.

Finally, the doctor looked at Sam. "I'm afraid your baby's in distress miss," he told her seriously. "We need to consider a caesarian soon."

"But I'm only seven and a half months," Sam protested weakly.

"You are also unquestionably in labor," the doctor responded, "and your child isn't getting enough oxygen. If we don't deliver the baby now, you will both be at risk."

Sam took a deep breath, willing herself to calm and tried to digest the information. "What's going to happen to my baby this premature?" she asked.

"At seven and a half months," he told her, "your baby will have a very good chance of a normal life. On the other hand, if we do not perform a caesarian, there is an equally good chance you, or your child would not survive."

Sam looked at Randy. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"At a minimum, brain damage and developmental difficulties are possible."

Sam turned away and a tear coursed down her cheek. Another contraction wracked her body and she curled up in a ball. She hated herself for the selfish choice she had made. Sam was in danger of losing her baby and if she did, she would never forgive herself. In her fear – imagining the worst – Sam got a glimpse of how Jack's life had been after Charlie's death.

Finally Sam agreed to the surgery and the doctor sent for a blood test. Randy rubbed her back soothingly.

"It will be alright," he reassured her.

Sam just looked away. `Jack should be here,' she thought. `He has a right to help make this decision.'

Sam's obstetrician returned a short while later with the lab results. He looked grimly from Sam to Randy.

"We've run in to some difficulty," he said after a pause. "There is some abnormality in your blood. We can't identify it." The obstetrician was perplexed. Sam, however, didn't look surprised.

"We don't know how you will react to a transfusion," the doctor continued. "But at this point, we simply don't know what else we can do."

Sam didn't respond. She was too busy condemning herself for being so far from the SGC, particularly so far removed from Janet Fraiser, when her baby's life depended on someone having that knowledge.

"What do you need her to do?" Randy finally asked.

"We need informed consent to go ahead with the surgery. But Miss O'Neill you must understand, you may react negatively to any transfusion." The doctor stated gravely. "This could have serious, if not fatal consequences for you and your child."

`No more,' she thought. `This ends here.' Sam reached for Randy's arm to pull him closer. "Call Dr. Janet Fraiser," she told him. Then the full brunt of a contraction hit her. Sam gasped for air. "Air Force," she hissed. "NORAD." Pain exploded across her abdomen and she felt her grasp slipping. "Hurry," she whispered as the room grew dim.

*****

"Dr. Janet Fraiser?"

"Who is this?" she asked warily wondering how an outside caller was able to obtain a number into Stargate Command.

"This is Randy Thomas calling from the Rapid City Memorial Hospital. I have a friend here in trouble. Jolie's in the hospital." There was a pause on the line.

"Dr. Fraiser?" he repeated surprised. Didn't she know who Jolie was?

"Yes," she said carefully. "How can I help you."

"My friend," Randy started unsure of himself. "Jolie O'Neill. She told me to call you," he said, then Randy corrected himself. "Actually I don't know if that's even her real name. I got the impression it wasn't."

"Jolie O'Neill," Janet repeated almost inaudibly. "Jolinar. Huh." Janet smiled to herself. It had to be Sam.

"What happened, Mr. Thomas?" she asked encouraging him to continue.

"She's having her baby," Randy told her.

"Baby?" Janet yelped.

"And they're having trouble delivering it. Something about her blood," he said. "I think it's serious." Clearly, this was out of his realm of expertise.

After six months of silence, it was her. Finally. Now this. `Baby?' Janet marveled.

"Randy – I need to speak to her doctor," Janet told him pulling herself together. "In the meantime," she said, "I need you to go back to her room and keep everybody else out – doctors and nurses included, you got that?"

"Sure," he said – although he certainly didn't sound sure. "But won't that put her in more danger?" Randy asked tentatively.

"Don't ask questions," she said, "Just do it."

Randy agreed with a frown, but he dutifully grabbed the obstetrician and dragged him to the phone.

"This is Dr. Holder," the doctor said impatiently as the receiver was thrust in his hands.

"This is Dr. Janet Fraiser, United States Air Force," Janet informed him with authority. "I am calling about an obstetrics patient you have, Jolie O'Neill. Miss O'Neill is in my care and I am aware of her rather peculiar hematological condition."

"Uh-huh," the doctor responded noncommittally.

"I need to know the status of Miss O'Neill's condition."

"Ma'am I don't know who you," he said slowly, "but patient information is strictly confidential." The doctor grew indignant. "Whatever you may think, we certainly don't give it out over the phone."

"Doctor," Janet said calmly and with authority. "Your patient is an officer in the United States Air Force. Moreover, she will lose her and her baby without my help. You have no idea what you are facing. Now WHAT is her status."

Janet was greeted by silence.

"Doctor," she prompted with a slight warning.

There was a long pause and finally the doctor sighed in resignation. He said "her baby is in distress and we can't even identify her blood type at this point."

"Okay," Janet urged him to continue.

"I have limited medical history and – except for the blood tests I had taken – no lab results whatsoever here." Janet could hear the frustration in his voice.

"Oxygen levels are falling and the baby's heart rate is erratic." There was a pause on the line. "The patient's blood pressure is dangerously high." Janet could hear the doctor flipping through the pages of her chart. "We need to do a caesarian but we don't know how to even begin to match her blood for transfusion."

"Uh huh."

"Bottom line," he continued. "We could lose both the baby and the mother if we can't deliver soon."

Janet just nodded although she knew he couldn't see her.

"Okay," she said. "Here is what I need from you doctor." Janet directed. "I need you to move your patient to a private room and she'll need be attended by you and you alone."

"Doctor Fraiser," the doctor balked. "I do have other patients to look after."

"She IS your only patient now."

The doctor sputtered in protest but Janet held her ground. "This is top secret, highest classification, military information you have in your delivery room."

"But…"

"No buts, doctor," Janet said firmly. "The fewer questions asked, the fewer tests run, the better for everybody."

"This is absurd," the doctor responded impatiently. "Her life's in danger – not to mention the health of her unborn child."

"She's O negative," Janet told him. "You can transfuse. Take the baby by C-section if necessary, but avoid sending anything to the lab and keep the paperwork to a minimum. We'll be there in under two hours."

"And the abnormality?" he asked.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with doctor," Janet said firmly.

"Don't tell me it's a matter of National Security," the doctor joked sarcastically.

"I don't have to," Dr. Fraiser responded sternly. "That you already know."

Silence followed. Janet knew the doctor was weighing the information she had given him and considering options for Sam's care.

"I at least need a nurse," he concluded.

"One," she said with finality.

*****

Doctor Holder hung up the phone and scratched his head in disbelief. The reception nurse just looked at him.

"We need a private room for Miss O'Neill," he said. "Oh and call down and cancel the rest of the lab work for her."

At that he turned away and walked down the hallway shaking his head.

*****

"Colonel O'Neill!" Janet yelled running down the hallway after the Colonel. Jack stopped at the urgency in her voice and walked with long strides to meet her.

"Its Sam!" she yelled. "We've found her."

"Carter?" he asked. "She's back?"

"No, she's in Rapid City."

"Iowa?"

"Huh?" Janet asked. "No." She shook her head. "South Dakota."

"Why in god's name there?"

"Don't know, but we've got to go now," Dr. Fraiser said shortly. "Her baby's in fetal distress."

"Her baby?" Jack stopped in the hallway. "My baby?" he asked.

Doctor Fraiser barely paused at that. Once the doctor in Rapid City had explained the situation, Janet had surmised the rest.

"We don't have time for this." She bolted past him on the way to see General Hammond. "Colonel – both mother and child are at risk here. Come on!"

*****

Randy was pushed out of the room as Dr. Holder prepared for the emergency C-section. He called for O negative blood and in the presence of a single nurse he delivered a baby boy, almost two months early, for one "Jolie O'Neill."

The tiny infant let out a wail that belied his small size and doctor and nurse exchanged relieved smiles.

Sam rested comfortably.

*****

General Hammond arranged for a transport plane to take he, Doctor Fraiser and Colonel O'Neill to South Dakota. Ninety minutes later, they were met by a driver in Rapid City and taken to the hospital.

On the way the call came from Doctor Holder that Sam had delivered and that mother and baby both were fine.

Jack stared straight ahead and nodded seriously when Doctor Frasier reported the news to him, but she could see the small smile he was fighting to hide.

*****

Sam stuck her finger in the bassinet and her baby grasped it in his little fist. He was so tiny in the crib with the monitors stuck to his chest and the oxygen taped to his nose, but the doctor assured her that he would be fine. She cooed happily at the baby beside her.

"Got a name for him yet?" She heard from the doorway. Sam smiled up at Randy.

"No, I'm waiting for his father to get here," she told him. Sam was sure Jack would come. In fact she had never been so sure of anything in her life.

Randy's smile faded somewhat but he recovered quickly.

"So that's it, you've decided to go home?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said smiling down at the child, "we're going home."

Randy smiled honestly and wished her every luck and happiness.

"Nobody deserves it more," he told her.

*****

Randy was leaving the room when the three officers approached in the hallway. Suddenly, to him at least, everything made sense. He stepped into the hallway in front of the younger of the two men.

"You must be Jolie's friend." He said extending a hand. "I'm Randy."

"Sam," Jack corrected shaking Randy's hand.

"Good to meet you Sam," Randy said.

"No, I'm Jack," the Colonel told him. "She's Sam."

"Jolie?"

"Right. Sam."

Randy just shook his head.

"Well, I should be on my way now that you're here," he said. "I just wanted to make sure she was alright."

Jack nodded.

Randy frowned and looked away uncomfortably. "Take good care of her," he added, "okay?"

Jack heard exactly what Randy hadn't said. He looked the man intensely for a moment and then nodded.

"Sure."

"Okay, then." Randy shrugged uncomfortably and turned to walk away.

"Randy," Jack called. Randy froze. "Thanks for watching over her while she was gone."

With a nod, Randy disappeared around the corner.

*****

Jack crossed her room in two giant steps. Sam thought he'd go straight for the baby but he walked past with a concerned glance in the bassinet.

"Carter," he said leaning over her hospital bed. Jack looked at her closely. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, sir," she told him nodding reassuringly.

Jack winced at the `sir.' He reached down and fingered a length of her hair.

Sam blushed. It seemed like such an intimate gesture. "Prenatal vitamins," she joked sweeping the lock of it out of his hand and tucking it behind her ear.

Jack straightened up and looked over at the bassinet.

"How is your baby?" he asked gesturing to the child.

"Fine." She beamed. "A little small," she said. "Four pounds, eleven ounces."

Jack leaned over the crib and marveled at the child he hoped was his son.

"But he really should be fine," she assured him (and herself). Jack nodded.

"Have you named him?" he asked.

"Not yet," Sam replied. "But I was thinking of Jonathon."

Jack was stunned.

"Jonathon Carter," he repeated touching the baby's face tenderly.

"Jonathon Carter O'Neill," Sam corrected.

Jack turned and looked at her. His eyes were wide and his face had gone pale. "Mine?" he asked softly as if he could barely hope.

"Ours," she said firmly with a smile.

*****

The General stopped in the doorway of Sam's room and frowned over the conversation between the Major and her commanding officer he had overheard. While he was personally happy for the two of them, this put him in a very awkward position professionally.

Janet pushed past him and started checking over Sam's son. She didn't care who the child's father was. Her only concern was the health of Sam and her baby.

Hammond couldn't help but smile, however, when little Jack let out a wail of displeasure at being disturbed.

*****

Three days later Sam and her baby transferred back to the Cheyenne Mountain complex. Janet doted over both her patients.

An air force specialist ran all the batteries of tests on baby Jonathon that Dr. Fraiser wouldn't let the hospital in Rapid City perform and finally determined, without question, that Jack, Jr. was physically and developmentally normal.

Sam's father made another appearance on Earth that week to visit his newest grandchild. The universe would have to do without him for a while. Jacob never did ask the question Jack was expecting, but shook his hand warmly upon first seeing the baby. Jack understood the gesture.

Jacob was sitting on the edge of Sam's bed cradling Jonathon in his lap when Jack left them alone.

The Colonel found himself in General Hammond's office asking the question the two Air Force officers had studiously avoided six months earlier.

"What now?" the Colonel asked cautiously.

The General did not pretend to misunderstand what he was asking.

"Jack, this isn't about Sam's pregnancy," he said solemnly. "Nor about any relationship that the two of you may have had. It's about the major running away." The General raised his arms as if to say `its out of my hands.' "It was her choice. She wasn't kidnapped by the NID, she wasn't trying to save the world, hell, she wasn't even trying to save herself. Major Carter simply got scared and ran."

"So she's out?" Colonel O'Neill asked angrily. "Just like that? No second chances?"

"Colonel she was AWOL for six months," the General responded impatiently. "Absent without Leave," he emphasized. "She's lucky she's not in the brig."

Jack turned to leave brusquely.

"Colonel," General Hammond warned, "might I suggest…"

Jack stopped and glared at his commanding officer. The colonel's left eyebrow raised in defiance. "Yes," he answered slowly and dangerously. He was wound tightly and ready to spring.

"Jack," Hammond's voice softened. "Might I suggest," he repeated. "That you marry that woman and take Sam and Jack, Jr. home where they belong."

Jack's fighting stance visibly relaxed. He sighed deeply and shook out his hands. "Yes, sir," he saluted and all but ran to the infirmary for Sam and his son.

***

She was out but – to her surprise – she really didn't care. As Sam walked into the diner, baby snuggled in her arms and Jack in tow, Sam knew this was where she belonged.

"Just have a seat anywhere," the waitress called and turned back to clearing a table.

"Cindy?" Sam asked. The waitress sat the dirty dishes back down and looked up in surprise.

"Yeah?" she said without recognition. Sam looked so different standing in a little cotton sundress with her hair tied back in a scarf.

Cindy walked over to the family huddled in the doorway with a questioning look on her face.

Sam handed Jack their baby and reached into her pocket and pulled out the ragged twenty-dollar bill. She cradled it in her hands.

"A year ago," Sam said. "I walked in here, cold and wet, scared and hurt." Cindy just nodded as she tried to place the woman before her. "You gave me this," Sam continued raising the dollar in her hands, "and drove me to the bus station to start a new life."

Sam could see the recognition dawning in Cindy's face.

"Its you," she muttered. Sam smiled `yes.'

"Everything is so different now," Sam said, handing the twenty back to the waitress. "You changed my life. I just can't thank you enough."

Cindy looked at the battered bill in her hands and back at Sam.

"This is my husband, Jack," Sam said. Jack attempted to wave a few fingers under his son's back. "And our son, Jonathon."

Cindy looked pleased and embarrassed at the same time. "I never got your name," she said.

For six months, Sam had been nobody, nowhere.

"Its Sam," she said with a smile. "Samantha O'Neill."

She was somebody, somewhere.