Every Day
Every Day
by Rowan Darkstar
Summary: Post-Ep to 'Gemini'. Hours later and Sam's still burying herself in her lab.
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene/Epilogue
Episode Related: 811 Gemini
Season: Season 8
Pairing: Jack/Sam
Rating: GEN
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 2005-01-30
Endless thanks to my betas: Teddy E, Foxcat, and Strix
Rowan Darkstar (rowan_d1@yahoo.com) Copyright (c) 2005
"I watch the walls around me crumble But it's not like I won't build them up again So, here's your last chance for redemption So take it while it lasts, 'cause it will end" --"Over" by Lindsay Lohan
Seven hours later and when he drifted with false indifference past her laboratory doorway, she was still seated at her work table, microscope lit and paperwork spread around her like a survival map.
But everything was different. The overhead lights were off. Aside from the glow of the microscope, only a small desk lamp burned in the far corner of the room. The air was still. And Carter was no longer staring into the microscope, but resting an elbow on the table and leaning into her hand to shade her eyes.
Jack held his breath for a moment, straining to catch the sound of her breath above the ever present hum of the mountain.
The possibility she might be crying scared the hell out of him and made him reflexively glance around to look for Daniel, knowing full well the Dear Doctor wasn't back on Earth yet.
Dammit.
Jack was about to venture forward into the darkened laboratory when Carter sniffed softly, lifted her head just enough to swipe at her cheek with the side of her hand, then let her head fall to her hand again. She never opened her eyes.
*Oh, Christ....*
Jack stepped into the room, hands buried in his pockets. His fingers closed around his favorite Duncan Butterfly.
"Hey," he tried gently.
Carter started, but not as badly as he'd expected; she seemed more self-conscious than alarmed. The skin around her eyes was pulled tight, the sparkle absent from her gaze. She looked...exhausted. Defeated. Drained.
None of the above gelled with the Carter he knew. A lifetime of burdens bled through her usually well-shored up walls tonight.
"Hey, sir." Her voice was hoarse and dry. She looked like she had when Daniel had died, or Jolinar had sacrificed herself in her head; like she'd never laugh at his stupid boardroom antics again.
"Hey. What are you doin' still here?"
"A lot of work." Flat delivery. Offering him nothing. Except maybe the knowledge that she really didn't want him there.
"It's after midnight."
She glanced at the wall clock, and he couldn't tell if she'd already known the time or not. "Yeah," she said softly. "I guess I'll head out. Are you leaving?" she asked, actually looking at him for a moment.
He nodded. "Yeah. Got enough paperwork done I'll at least be able to see across my desk when I sit down in the morning."
She nodded without a trace of humor, and he wondered if she had even really heard what he'd said.
Carter focused on the busywork of closing her lab for the night. Jack hovered in the room, which was usually a comfortable arrangement between them. He hung around her when there was no reason at all. Even when they both knew he had his own work to do. And she only threw him out when she was on a tight deadline. The rest of the time his presence was just...expected.
But tonight, he felt like an intruder. He felt awkward in his own skin, and the tension made him want to grind his teeth, though he was afraid she would hear.
BDU blouse across her arm and laptop already in its case, Carter was reaching for the last of her paperwork, when Jack blurted out, "Carter. This is not your fault."
Yeah, original. Nothing at all like the last sentence he'd come up with seven hours ago.
Carter froze in her task and looked up at O'Neill, meeting his gaze for a long moment, huge pale eyes offering endless depths and peering through his defenses like glass. "Yes, sir. It is," she said simply.
"Carter, you are *not* her. She's a Goddamn Replicator. A machine."
"She's an artificial intelligence. An intelligent and feeling life form. Like Fifth. And part of me is her. Or part of her is me. And if things were different for me..."
"You could *never* be what she is. I don't care what the circumstances. It's not in you."
She shook her head with a quick, dismissive motion, a cold bitterness in her exhaled breath. "You don't know that, sir. You don't know what--" her voice caught, and she faltered for a moment, visibly steeled herself, then went on. He ached for her. Didn't have a clue what to say. "You don't know that," she said with determined finality.
"Yeah. I do." Tenacious. Yeah, he was that, at least.
Carter glanced away. "Sir...do you have any idea how it affected me, when we left Fifth behind?"
Jack narrowed his eyes, took his hands from his pockets and rested them heavily on his hips. CO mode was always more comfortable. The caring advisor. "You felt guilty. You weren't sure we made the right choice."
Carter gave a mirthless laugh, slipped her tongue across her lips and bit the inside of her lip. "We made it back to Earth. And I barely made it to the women's room before I threw-up."
He cringed, felt like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut, tried not to react. Jesus Christ, how had he missed that? What else had he missed?
But she wasn't seeing his reaction; she was back in some nightmare she'd since moved beyond. "I didn't eat right for a long time after that, sir. I don't know that we made the wrong decision, even now. And I certainly didn't know then. But...I knew what I'd done. And what I had to live with."
"Which is why you're *not* her," he said firmly, entreaty thick in his eyes.
She just wrinkled her nose and shook her head, brushing his words away.
He tried a rougher approach. Defaulted to protocol. "Carter. I gave the order. You just did your job."
"No, sir. There was margin for error. You never gave an order out loud. I chose to understand. And I chose to comply. I have to live with that. And I knew...things would never quite be the same."
"For us, too, right?"
"What?" He'd caught her off guard. And himself, too, actually. He could never be sure which of his thoughts were going to fall out of his mouth.
But now that he'd ripped open that can of worms... "Things weren't the same between us for a while," he said simply. Then, in reply to her quietly shocked expression, he added, "Yeah, I noticed. You hardly looked at me for weeks. And if you weren't clear on it? That bothered me. A whole lot."
"It got better," she said softly.
"Yeah. It did. But I always meant to ask why."
"Because I fucked up. And because of it, you disappeared for a month. And nearly died."
He narrowed his eyes, piecing the parts together. "Maybourne," he said, speaking to himself, really.
Carter nodded. "Nothing else mattered much after that."
For a while they stood in silence. A few too many feet hovered between them and the gentle hum of the mountain filled the uncertain quiet.
Then the simple fact she was still standing there started to soften the feel of things. "Carter," O'Neill tried carefully, "you made a judgement call this week. You called it wrong. You let yourself be human for a minute, and you got burned. It doesn't make you a bad person. Just makes you a person."
She shook her head. She had already worked through all this in that overactive head of hers, and nothing he said was going to do more than graze the surface. Not unless he shocked her... "I wish that were all, sir," she replied. Dry and cool. "But so much of her, sir, I...understood. And I shouldn't..."
He ripped off the gloves. "I killed my son."
Carter's gaze shot to his so fast he felt her eyes hit him like a laser. Her face went pale with shock. "Sir..."
"I left my weapon and ammo where my son could find it and access it. And he shot himself. My fault. Does that make me evil, a bad person?"
She was flushing now, almost scared. "God, *no*. Of course not. Never."
"Why? Because Sara never thought it was safe enough. She kept bugging me about coming up with a better system. And I kept telling her not to worry, I had it covered."
Sam set down some of her armload of things, her focus off herself now and intent on what she seemed to feel it was imperative he understand. "You're not evil," Sam said firmly. "You're a beautiful and kind man, and you were a wonderful father."
"How do you know that? Based on what I've done..."
"I know it," she said forcefully.
"How?"
"I *feel* it," she said, voice deepening with an undercurrent of genuine emotion. Her open hand pressed imploringly to her chest. "In here."
Jack looked at her, giving her everything in the world he had with his eyes. "*Yeah.*"
She got it. And she looked a little like she'd had the wind knocked out of her as she took in his meaning. "Okay," she whispered, all the force and strength melting from her tone.
Carter's gaze that had held such fire and determination a moment ago fell unevenly to the laboratory floor. She nodded after a while, following the flow of thoughts washing like a tide behind her eyes. The cool and darkly rational soldier had dissolved into the encroaching shadows, and all he saw was a hurt and scared woman who looked a lot younger and a lot more vulnerable than he knew she would be by morning.
Carter didn't speak. But she didn't leave. He took a step closer. She didn't step away. "But, you know, Carter?" he prompted softly. Too softly for any random passersby to catch from the hall. "Once you have all of this stuff straight in your head--you *are* allowed to cry for a while."
Carter shook her head. "No." The answer was quick and decided.
"Why not?"
"Because I hate to cry."
He lifted his eyebrows. "Really? I mean...I thought it was supposed to have that whole cathartic thing goin' for it. Especially for...you know...women..." He really needed to stop talking.
Carter just shook her head again, and said in a painfully open and innocent voice. "It just gives me a stomachache."
O'Neill brightened instantly, a broad smile lighting his face. "Oh! Well, then, we'll fix that part later with cake!"
Carter looked up at him, startled and uncomprehending. Then she let slip a soft, incredulous laugh. And freeing that genuine affection and connection broke the last of her walls.
She stood before him, chest shaking with her sobs, hand moving to cover her mouth. "I let her out," she whispered brokenly as he moved to close the distance between them. "I let her take away everything we had to fight with, and I let everyone down. They trusted me, and I... Everyone..." Her words dissolved into voiceless sobs that made his knees weak. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, and Jack wrapped his arms around her without conscious thought.
"C'mere," he breathed, tucking her close against him. So much for CO protocol. This was Sam. And she was crying. "It's okay," he said softly. "We'll be okay. We're all in this together, Carter. Just like always. We all do our best every day. We'll do our best the next time. And we'll get ourselves out of it. It's what we do."
She didn't answer. She clung to his back, face buried in his neck, tears soaking his shirt.
He didn't let go until she was ready. He hoped she didn't either.
The lab felt cold when her heat had vanished down the hall. The cold air chilled his damp neck.
"Cake..." he whispered into the darkness.
***** rowan_d1@yahoo.com http://rowan_d.tripod.com/
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