General Jack O'Neill sat in his room, crestfallen. She was gone. His mind knew it, but his heart refused to accept it. It was bad enough that she had died in the first place, but did he really have to come to an alternate reality where there were already two Sams?

He heard the shivering sigh of little Grace as she took a deep breath, lying on her back in a small portable crib in the corner of the room. He looked over at her, and watched her stomach rise and fall with each breath. Sam had died protecting her. Protecting her future.

The Asgard had warned them that Grace pose a threat to the Goa'uld and other races like them. They had disregarded their warnings, refusing to send Grace away to some alien planet because of her partial Ancient heritage. Now, Jack almost wished that they had. Not that he would have sent Grace alone- she wasn't even a year old yet. But he should have insisted that he and Sam went along. They could have been perfectly happy on another planet in another part of the galaxy. They would have been together.

There was a knock on the door. "Just leave it on the table and close the door on your way out." He ordered.

The door opened, and closed, but he could sense someone coming closer to him . He began to turn. "I told you to put the tray on the…"

He stopped as he saw Dr. Samantha Carter. She gave a timid smile. "Do you mind if I join you for a moment or two?"

He took a deep breath. "Whatever."

She sat on the bed, a few feet away from him, showing her hesitance in coming here. She looked at her hands as she played with them. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but…I also know that she would have been here to hear whatever it was that you needed to say."

He didn't answer. She looked sideways at him before reaching into her BDU pocket. She pulled out a crinkled picture, and looked at it. "I don't understand exactly what you're feeling, but my husband was killed three days ago when the goa'uld attacked."

He was barely listening, let alone looking at her. She looked at the man in the picture and then glanced at the man sitting next to her. They looked so similar, and their personalities probably weren't so far apart, but just looking at the wedding photo of her Jack O'Neill, who didn't appear to have any care in the world, and then comparing that photo with the man that sat next to her, his heart heavy with grief, was enough to break her heart. This Jack O'Neill was grieving the loss of her alternate the way that she was grieving the loss of his.

"We were supposed to be celebrating our first anniversary. And instead, I'm mourning his loss."

"I'm sorry." He muttered.

"I'm not here to be pitied." She said, simply. "I just want you to know that I'm here if you need to talk. The other Jack and Sam…they don't understand."

He clenched his jaw, choking back emotion.

"They don't see each other the way we saw their counterparts." She said, simply. She stood as she allowed her words to sink into his heart. "I'm down the hall if you need me."

She walked out, unaware that Jack watched her go, his heart even heavier than before.