DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World
Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other
characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: EVERY DAY
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
EMAIL: rowan_d1@yahoo.com
RATING: Older Kids
ARCHIVE: All archives fine as long as you let me know.
CATEGORIES: Angst, Sam/Jack friendship/UST
SPOILERS: 'Gemini', 'Unnatural Selection', 'Paradise Lost'
SUMMARY: Post-Ep to 'Gemini'. Hours later and Sam's still
burying herself in her lab.


Endless thanks to my betas: Teddy E, Foxcat, and Strix


EVERY DAY
by
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