The Letter

Spoilers – Emancipation

Season – 5, but no spoilers other than Emancipation

Part 1 - Jack

"Carter, hold up," Jack O'Neill calls out as he jogs to catch up to his 2IC.

Sam slows down and waits for him. He notices that she doesn't look happy to see him which only confirms his suspicion that something is wrong. He's supposed to be doing paperwork, but a certain piece of paper is the reason he's here, chasing her down through Cheyenne Mountain.

"You headed off base?" he asks as he joins her to walk down the hallway toward the elevator.

"Yeah, thought I'd use up a couple personal days, sir." She smiles quickly, like she's meeting a requirement, and then it disappears.

"Good, good…" He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I just want to make sure before you leave that you're okay. You know… after the letter…"

"I'm fine," she says a little too quick. "Thank you for asking, sir. It was nice of them to send it," she offers like she's talking about a postcard.

His heart feels like it's going to beat right out of his chest. He's always considered himself to be brave – until now. He's never dealt with this sort of thing before. Part of him wants to turn around and leave this conversation alone, but he knows if he does that, he will always wonder.

Now or never, Jack tells himself.

They reach the elevator, and Sam moves a hand up to push the arrow.

"Carter, just… wait." Jack covers her hand with his.

Her face flushes with frustration, maybe anger, which only confirms that he's made the right call.

"Come to my office?" He passes up the opportunity for a quip about knowing where his office is.

"Is it something that can wait till Monday?" She tries to pull her hand away, but he grips it tightly. He's afraid if he lets go, something will be lost.

"No, I don't think it can." This conversation should have happened four years ago. It's long overdue, and that's his fault.

She pulls at her hand again, and this time he lets go hesitantly.

She's too good of a soldier to deny his command. He can see the reluctance in her body language, but she follows him further down the corridor and enters his office.

"Have a seat, Carter," he offers.

"I'd rather stand", she says, glancing at the door. As though standing means this will be a quick chat so she can get out of there. He hates that being alone in an office with him feels like a trap to her today. It's not supposed to be that way, not with them.

"Carter… sit." Commands seem to be the only thing working in this conversation.

He doesn't comment when she pulls out the chair and takes a seat on the edge of it, ready to leave as soon as she can.

He doesn't know where to begin. "Carter… it's been what, four years? Since Simarka?"

He watches her tense even more as the subject matter of their conversation is confirmed.

"Yes sir."

"And today their government sent you a formal letter of apology for the hardships you endured while on their planet. A letter from their new chief who also happens to be a woman."

"That's correct, sir".

"Carter… Sam… that letter. It indicated a lot more hardship than I was expecting." He stops there, willing her to start speaking. To say more than three words in a row. To deny what he's afraid of. He really wants to be wrong about this.

But she doesn't. Like she's weighing her words, calculating them. He can't help but feel shocked as for the first time since they've met, she's eyeing him like a threat, someone she can't speak freely with. It reminds him of when Jolinar took over her body.

"When we got back from that planet, you told me you were fine. But their letter-"

"Their letter," Sam interrupts him, "It's just a political move to secure allies during the changes to their governing system." Her eyes meet his, full of challenge. He knows he needs to dial back, take her side, or she'll clam up again.

He smiles lightly. "They did use a lot of big words," he offers. She gives a very small smile, not quite the smirk he was going for. "I know they didn't give details, but they indicated an… assault… of some kind." He can barely speak the words. Assault being the gentler term for something so horrible.

"If there was an assault of some kind-" he continues.

"There wasn't," she interrupts again.

"But if-"

"If there was, then… my report from that mission would contain false statements, and information would have been withheld. I could be court-martialled." The challenge in her eyes shifts, and he recognises pleading when he sees it. Pleading that he will drop this conversation, drop his conclusions and concerns, drop her so she can deal with this by herself.

"Carter, I'm not… That's not… Nobody wants to court-martial you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I told you I'm fine."

"I don't think that's true."

"Sir… it's been four years. I'm fine. My report from that mission is fine. Everything's fine. I'm sorry if that letter made you think otherwise. Can I go now? I have plans." She makes a move to stand, but he waves her back down.

"Look, I get how the military is-"

"With all due respect, sir, you don't – not this part of it." Now he knows his twisting gut was right. The letter in all it's flowery words and careful phrasing was right. "And one report that's inaccurate would put all my reports under the microscope. Mission reports that are combed over by the highest levels of our government."

"Carter, the last thing on my mind right now is the accuracy of a report from four years ago. What is on my mind is you. Have you talked to someone?"

She looks away, and he knows the answer to his question is a no.

"Sir, there's nothing to talk about. I told you I'm fine. Nothing happened."

She's lying to his face, and he can tell. It hurts him more than he cares to admit.

"Carter, your face is telling me differently," he counters gently.

"Sir, you're the 2IC of this base. If…"

"I think we're past If's at this point."

"If… something had happened on that planet that wasn't in my report, and I admit it, then I'm putting you in a corner. You'd have to report it, whether you want to or not."

He wants to deny it, to assure her that her secrets are safe with him. But she's right. Maybe not today, maybe never, but he could someday be under oath, discussing these missions. And what he doesn't know, what he can't get her to confirm, can stay safely unsaid, without putting either of their careers at risk.

"This is wrong, Sam. You're paying for a decision you made back when SG1 was new. We hardly knew what we were doing. We hardly knew each other. If something like this happened today…"

"Today is different," she acknowledges. "And hypothetically, a person in that situation might choose to handle it differently if they had a team… a family… as strong as SG1 to rely on."

"But they didn't," he finishes for her. "Not then." And now it's his turn to face defeat.

She can tell he's given up, and her gaze softens. "But that hypothetical person really hopes you understand, sir. That she truly is okay. She just needs a couple days to sort it all out in her head."

"And will this hypothetical person promise to talk to someone? Anyone? Minus any alien planet parts."

He hates this. Hates that she didn't get the help she needed, back when she needed it the most. And now she can't even talk about it to those closest to her because of the possible repercussions. None of this was ever any of her fault, but she's the one paying the price.

He watches her hesitate, knows she doesn't want to promise. But to his surprise, she forces out, "Okay."

"You know I'm always here if you change your mind, right? If you ever want to talk? Even if it's all just hypothetically."

"I know, sir."

"Wait," he stops her as she stands to leave. He reaches in his desk, digs around for a moment, and pulls out an old business card from the back of a drawer. "I don't know if she's still in the area, but this is a therapist that I went to a couple times," he blushes. "After Charlie. It helped."

She carefully takes the card from his hand. "Okay," she says again. "Wait… does General Hammond…"

"No," he assures her. "I think I picked up on it because of being on that planet with you. Seeing what Turghan was like. Little things I should have figured out sooner. The General never said anything."

She nods, and then she's gone, and he's alone in his office.

How did we get it so wrong? he asks himself. He leans back and scrubs his hands over his eyes feeling tired and frustrated. How did we not realize what happened? He gives up trying to figure it all out tonight and stands up to stretch. Cake sounds like a good idea right about now. He rounds the desk just as Daniel bursts in, Teal'c standing stoically beside him.

One look at Daniel's face, and a quick glance at the paper in his hands, and Jack knows what's coming next.

"Jack, we need to talk."