Spoilers: Beneath the Surface
PG at the moment.
A/N: Right, this is the prologue or something. I know where I'm going with this - there is a definite plot - and I have written the next 3 chapters. Things may change as I go along but I wanted to put something up to see how you guys felt about it.
Italicised chunks is all flashbacks, mostly episode additions, sometimes related to the chapter, sometimes just bits I wanted to use to fill space. Kidding.
Sam's age: in 'The Entity', Sam's DOB was listed on the computer as 29/12/68. So, since this is set when she is just 32, that would make this end of Season Four or the very beginning of Season Five.
Though, interestingly, in Ascension, Orlin makes her an emerald, saying he read up on birth stones and this was hers. That, however, would put her birthday in May. Turquoise is the stone for December (I should know). Huh. Nobody's perfect, I suppose.
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'' How do you feel?''
She finally looked up from her lap, where she'd been firmly staring since he'd 'dropped by', unable to find the strength in herself to look at him as they talked 2IC to CO. '' What?''
'' How do you feel?''
She couldn't believe he was asking her that. Standing there, so cold and hard, hands in his pockets like nothing had changed, like the past couple of weeks were of no consequence to him whatsoever. There was enough of Her left for her to respond honestly, though, to Him, '' Like someone's just turned around and told me I'm not real, of course. How do you feel?''
He hovered, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. For a long moment, she thought he wasn't going to say anything at all. That he was just stand there like the emotionless bastard he was. Then he broke up her thoughts with a very quiet, hurt statement, '' Like my last chance of happiness has been taken away from me.''
Her voice was a brittle whisper, '' Oh God,'' and quietly, ever so quietly, her thoughts added, 'Jonah'.
Inside, she crumpled like paper. Her heart absorbed the words, but it also absorbed the truth in them, the unspoken emotions he had to be hiding. He wasn't an emotionless bastard, no matter how hard sometimes she tried to convince herself he was. It was easier to believe he felt nothing, easier to think that if he could deal with it, then so could she. But both him and Him had hid their feelings, a characteristic defence weapon that probably hadn't existed twenty years ago but was an intricate part of his shell now.
For her, right now, only military spine and the years of her father's accidental influence were holding her upright.
He made a bitter face, half turned in the doorway and carefully shuttered back his expression to his usual dark, somehow threatening facade. '' Guess I'll see you later, right?''
'' At the briefing. Sure.''
He made to leave, then stopped, stepped back into the room, his fingers tapping on the door jamb. '' Sit next to me?''
*
Of course, from then onwards, whenever she sat next to him - and more often than not, she did - Sam always remembered that conversation, the most awkward, painful, heartbreaking conversation she'd ever had with him. She wondered if he did, if he remembered in detail how he'd felt that day, that afternoon after the truth was revealed. If he remembered the nuances, the way Janet had tried to look each of them in the eye as she'd completed their physicals, of the strange compulsion to keep those ugly orange suits, to cling to them.
Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he'd buried it, maybe he'd repressed it. Maybe it had joined the long litany of things that he Just. Didn't. Think. About. Certainly it was never spoken of again.
God knew there were millions of things they didn't speak of. Side arms, force fields, alien women, alien men, little touches, smiles, the occasional, accidental, oh-so-bittersweet moments of shared understanding.
This is what we have to do, this is the way its going to be. Remember who we are.
For the moment, Sam pretended not to know why it was now, in this particular briefing, that she was revisiting old and painful memories. Most days she refused to think of them, used work to distract herself, an age old Carter tradition of simply filling her mind with everything else, important or not, so she didn't have to focus on the pain.
Today, it was different. Today, sitting next to him, listening to the General talk, Sam wasn't listening. An outsider would have probably thought that the tall, blonde woman in the blue SGC Air Force uniform was focussing intently on her General's words, nodding at the pertinent places, smiling when he joked, when he smiled. Agreeing, disagreeing, abstaining. But she wasn't doing any of those things. Not today. Today she was just too damn tired to be a Major in the USAF.
And now, though it hurt, if she was honest, and, at least in her head she could be honest, she knew what had happened to spur on this moment of self clarity. It was a cliché. She knew that. A tacky, stupid reason to suddenly reassess the losses and regrets in her life.
On her answer machine this morning she'd found a message, a message from the night before that she'd missed, coming in from work too late and being too tired to listen to whatever the machine had to say. Besides, usually no one called her. Seeing the blinking light just as she was about to leave at six that morning had been a surprise. She'd already spoken to Daniel about what colour they'd be wearing to work that day - what could it possibly be? Daniel was always the one who called her, once in a blue moon Teal'c would if Daniel was unavailable (unconscious/missing/presumed dead), but mostly it was Daniel. Not Colonel O'Neill, for obvious reasons. And she, in turn, never called him. There was no one else she knew of who would have any reason to contact her.
She'd reached over, pressed the button.
Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Samantha, Happy Birthday to you!
In the background, an argument had broken out between the children and the adults. She was Auntie Sam to her niece and nephew, Sam to her sister-in-law but always Samantha to her brother, had been since she was very small. His lower timbre voice had naturally overtaken theirs in the traditional, out of tune birthday song and the children were aggrieved.
Daddy you sounded so cross with her.
Mark, really, you promised.
Mark had been laughing as he'd said, '' Never mind them, Samantha. Happy Birthday. Present should arrive on the day itself but you know how it is. We missed you this Christmas. Hope Dad's remembered, but don't worry if he hasn't. He doesn't even know his own middle name.''
She was, of course, horrified that she'd forgotten her own birthday. It had seemed outright ridiculous, awful, beyond belief. But, frankly, that had happened a lot in the last five years. She didn't celebrate birthdays anyway, not since she'd been in her twenties when they'd been more of an occasion to throw everything aside and go out until the small hours. Besides, only last week she'd helped save the world again and turning thirty-two was very little in comparison.
Since she'd forgotten, she'd not been surprised that they'd forgotten. Her friends, supposedly, Daniel, Teal'c, the Colonel, Janet, even Hammond, had no surprise party prepared for her, no big joke to tease her about for years to come. They just forgot. Not terrible. Yes, she did know all their birthdays (even Teal'c's) off by heart, but that was the type of person she was. They didn't mean to forget, after all. They all had their own worries and problems.
No matter how she tried to rationalise it, the truth remained: she was hurt.
She was hurt. She wasn't going to kid herself about that. She was hurt. It was easy to admit, less easy to say, but she didn't want that. Sam didn't want their sudden, horrified pity, guilt, whatever. She didn't want to tell them and have Daniel beg her forgiveness, for Teal'c to act confused over the Tauri's prevalence for celebrating what was another day of the year, for Janet to gasp and whisper an apology. She didn't want to see the flash of pain in the Colonel's eyes. A birthday was supposed to be celebrated by those closest to you, and, apparently, Sam didn't have anyone close to her anymore.
In an effort to be positive and, let's face it, Samantha Carter was Miss Positive, she told herself it was so sweet of Mark and his family to have remembered. After all, they'd only become friends again in the past two years and were working up to their old brother-sister relationship. He'd simply sent a card the previous year but this year... a full out singing marathon on her answer machine.
It was an awkward date to have a birthday on, anyway. Just after Christmas, just before New Year's. Everyone was busy. It wasn't the silly season for nothing. The past few months hadn't exactly been her best either.
The fact that they'd remembered last year was no reason to think they'd remember this year. The fact that last year he'd got her a beautiful, slender little gold bracelet was no reason to think he'd get her anything this year. This year, things were different. This year, the secret that she and Colonel O'Neill had privately cherished had slipped out. There would be no more comfortable, delicious conversations alone in tents off-world. No more flirting in her lab, silly jokes aimed to make her smile.
'' Major?''
Sam snapped out of her internal thoughts, and an icy cold shudder ran through her body. She reached up to rub the top of her arms. '' Sir?''
General Hammond smiled, as did the rest of the table, at her obvious inattention. '' I was just thanking SG-1 for working over the Christmas period and hoped that a week's downtime over New Years would be sufficient reparation.''
'' Oh. Sure. Thank you, sir.'' She blinked, shook off the funny feeling she was getting, and smiled around the table.
Daniel was looking at her intently, his pale blue eyes concerned. '' Are you all right, Sam?''
She nodded firmly. '' Yeah. I'm fine.''
Now they were all looking at her.
She rolled her eyes. '' I'm fine, guys, sirs,'' she tacked on at the end, giving them all a more energetic smile.
Easily reassured, they all turned back to Hammond.
A weeks downtime over New Years. No doubt there would be the same party at O'Malleys, which she couldn't attend, banned as she was from that particular branch. Daniel was going to Abydos to visit Share's family, and, she supposed, his. Teal'c was naturally going to see his son and wife. Colonel O'Neill? She didn't know and obviously wasn't going to ask. Way too personal. No one had asked her what she was doing: either they all assumed (correctly) that she'd be spending her downtime on base or she'd be visiting her limited close family.
Her father hadn't been in contact in months which was both worrying and pleasing. Worrying, in case he was on some dangerous mission or missing, pleasing because he was doing something he'd always enjoyed - throwing himself at death's door and scrambling back out alive. Alive. Alive, thanks to a parasite, a snake, a Goa'uld with a conscience.
'' Sam? Sam?'' Daniel laughed as she finally looked up. Both he, Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill were watching her curiously. Hammond had left - oops, she missed the end of year dismissal.
Ah well, there would always be next year. And the year after that. In front of her, all Sam could see was the SGC. An endless stretch of working ridiculous hours, protecting her world with limited recognition, and going home to an empty house and no messages on her answer machine.
Grow up, Sam. Grow up. This is important. This is more than you. This is bigger than you will ever be.
'' Sorry,'' she murmured, grabbing her things - her file and some odd bits of papers she'd happened to be carrying about - and standing up.
Daniel caught up with her around the other side of the table, nudged her in the arm, his hands full of books and paperwork as well. '' Something on your mind?''
'' Something's always on her mind, Daniel. You know that,'' came the Colonel's reply before she could come up with something suitable to fob Daniel off.
Daniel rolled his expressive eyes and cast a scornful look over his shoulder at their sarcastic leader. '' More than some, anyway.''
'' That's not under dispute, Danny. You're the brains, we're the brawn.'' He pushed his hands in his pockets, nodded at Sam. '' Just an expression. No offence, Carter.''
'' None taken,' she murmured, absently, looking curiously into offices and labs as they walked down the corridor, staring fixedly at the odd personnel who walked past them, nodding respectfully at the immortal flagship team.
What were other people doing this New Year's? Were there parties she didn't know about, team gatherings that didn't happen with SG-1, surprise functions? Would the New Year bring new, random frowned-upon couples into the SGC? People who were, just about, allowed to be together, to see if it would work or the demands of the job would force them apart.
What did normal people do out there in the real world anyway?
'' Hey! Sam!''
She stopped, turned and look at the trio of bemused faces. She came back to them and saw that she'd continued walking when she should have turned left. '' Sorry.''
'' Uh, Carter, maybe you should go and see Fraiser?'' the Colonel suggested. '' You're looking kind of... peaky.''
'' Peaky, sir?''
His eyes shifted away from her face. '' Maybe it's the lights.''
'' No, no,'' Daniel persisted oblivious to the Colonel's discomfort at simply looking at her. '' I think you're right. Sam, are you feeling okay? I've not seen you this distracted since.. since... well, never.''
'' It's been a rough couple of months, Daniel. I think I have a right to be distracted,'' she responded, just a little more harshly than she'd intended.
If anything, this made them stare at her more.
Suddenly, it was too much. It was cloying. They'd forgotten her birthday. He hurt her every time she saw him. She winced and looked away from them, from their strange version of friendship. '' Look, I can take of myself. See you next year.'' She turned and walked swiftly away, narrowly avoiding crashing into an airman.
'' Carter!''
'' Sam!''
As she turned around the corner, she couldn't help but feel relieved. Away from them, things seemed to get better. The further she walked, the faster, the better she felt. She would go home this week. No. She'd go home, pack a bag, and she'd get away. Get the hell away from this place. Just for a little while. Maybe she'd go see Mark, drop in uninvited. Maybe, maybe... maybe she wouldn't.
Maybe she'd just drive. North, east, west, south. Just drive. Away.
She went home, this one thought reverberating in her shattered mind.
The speed with which she'd packed, the ease with which she threw her things into a bag, locked up her house and didn't even bother to give the spare set of keys over to a neighbour, really should have told her something. Told her that she was running away. Carters didn't run away.
Then again, that was probably, no, definitely, why she was choosing this course of action. Something out of character, something completely un-Carter-like. But maybe Sam, Sam who rarely got an outing these days, maybe Sam would do this sort of thing. Maybe Sam would love the feel of throwing her bag into the boot of her car, of the sound that slam made up and down her quiet road.
With a delight that was bordering on hysteria, she turned the key in her ignition and drove away from her neat little house in Colorado Springs.
As soon as she could, she put her foot down on the accelerator, hard. Faster, faster. Her radio was on but she couldn't hear the songs, the voice, the ads. She kept turning it up, though, wound down her windows despite the chill air and actually felt the cold on her skin like it was an emotion. A bracing, chilling, refreshing epiphany that seemed to leap into her blood, rush around her body with the fast beat of her heart, cooling heated, hurt thoughts, soothing the burn of anger and numbing all the pain that she regularly carried around with her.
This was so right, nothing had ever felt so right before. She was leaving, she wasn't running away. And at that moment, she never wanted to go back.