They Whose Heart is Firm (1/?)
Title: They Whose Heart is Firm
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Characters: Samantha Carter, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Original Characters
Word Count: 9282
Rating: T
Spoilers: SGA up to BAMSR (4X11). AU after that.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Stargate characters or the universe. It belongs to MGM and the Sci-Fi channel.
First published: 13 September 2013 on archiveofourown.org
Summary: "Seven years of peace ended on a chilling autumn night."
Sequel to "Your Eyes Turned Skywards". Starts 7-8 years after BAMSR, SGA 4x11.
"I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death."
- Leonardo Da Vinci
1
Now that I know what I'm without,
You can't just leave me.
Breathe into me and make me real.
Bring me to life.
"Bring Me Back To Life", Evanescence
The space was nothing more than a fissure in the mountain wall, not even room enough to call it a cave or stand straight. But it was shelter, and right now Sam couldn't ask for more.
"I'm cold."
Sam looked down to the pale, drawn face huddled inside a thick fur against her chest. Large, round eyes met hers, and her insides threatened to break.
"I know, sweetie," Sam said softly, pressing a kiss to David's forehead and pulling him closer. "It'll be okay."
But even as she said it, she knew it must be a lie. A lie to comfort, nothing more; they didn't have time for hope. Hope was for those who, even though they had lost everything else, still had somewhere to go. There was no way out for them now.
"Will daddy be okay?"
David's voice was small, scared and so very young. Almost five. He stared up at her with his father's eyes, dark locks of hair trailing into his face. The fur was too big for him. It seemed to overwhelm him.
"Of course he will," Sam said, but her throat clenched, preventing any other words to come out. Tears welled up again. Sam squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, willing herself not to break. Not now, not ever. For as long as she could live, she was needed.
Once she felt sufficiently in control, she looked down and gave David a smile. "Your dad's a fighter. He'll find his way home."
Seven years of peace ended on a chilling autumn night.
Sam startled awake to the sound of muted screams and flashes like lightening in a thunderstorm outside the window. On the palisade wall surrounding the colony, the bells that tolled danger suddenly stopped mid-sound.
John was already out of bed, nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness. She could almost see his eyes glitter in the few beams of light that came through the window.
"Stay inside," John said as he pulled on his clothes and picked up a worn sidearm from a shelf. "Could be those beasts got in again."
The sound of a round entering the gun chamber broke Sam out of her trance. The gun was only for emergencies. There were few bullets left. But with the man-sized nocturnal beasts that had come down from the north to haunt the colony for the past year, they couldn't take any chances. They'd already lost good people.
Her insides chilled.
John was out the door before Sam could say a word. The screams continued: distant, alien and muted. The window flashed with white light, and on the other side of the colony a fire was brewing. Something was aflame.
David.
Slight panic filled Sam as she swung her feet off the bed and slipped a woollen dress over her naked form. Fingers groped for her cane in its usual place and found it. With only some minor complaint from her left knee, she got to her feet and hurried into the living room.
The windows flashed like there was lightening outside, but there was no sound of thunder. Sam stopped and stared through the glass panes, frowning.
People ran all over. Skirting between houses here and there, running - always running - and Sam could see why. A beam of light trailed after them, then swept them off the ground as it caught up. They disappeared.
"Oh my god," Sam whispered, frozen.
The cabin's front door banged open. John ran back inside and closed it behind him, gun still in hand. Their eyes met and a long-forgotten dread dropped like a cold stone into Sam's stomach when she saw the confirmation in John's face.
The Wraith.
"We need to get out of here," John said, his voice hard.
Sam brooked no argument. Questions of why and how would have to wait. There was no time.
As one, they sprung into action. John hurried back into their bedroom while Sam turned towards their small kitchen space. An old familiar detachedness she'd thought was long-gone filled her.
With deft fingers, Sam found two Athosian-style leather bags and filled them with whatever food and equipment she deemed necessary. John re-entered the living room with a heap of clothes in his hands and laid the bundle on the table. Then he went into the second bedroom.
Sam dressed quickly as John returned with David, who'd woken up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. The boy was on the brink of crying. She could see him build up to a sleepy, scared fit and hurriedly took him from John.
"It's okay, sweetie," Sam mumbled and stroked David's hair, holding him close as the boy's chest trembled. John finished collecting what they needed into the bags. "It's okay. We're just going outside for a while. Go back to sleep. It's okay."
"Here," John gestured and Sam handed David back, the boy calm now but confused. He buried his face in John's neck, clutching the front of his father's coat. The sight nearly broke Sam's detached composure.
Sam picked up the bags and wore them like rucksacks. John quickly dressed David and wrapped him in a blanket, then held him against his chest and rubbed his back, muttering words of comfort beneath his breath.
"Where?" Sam asked simply, taking her cane.
"Gotta stay away from large open spaces, so only option is west," John said, keeping his voice calm and low for David's sake. His eyes, however, reflected the tense gravity of the situation. "The others have already begun to spread out. I told them to get to the forest. It's thick enough that we might lose 'em, and we've got the mining caves in the mountains beyond that'll give us shelter."
"Okay," Sam said. She didn't want to think about who had already been taken. She knew the stakes. Her thoughts were on David.
The front door banged open again. Sam's head snapped up and John jerked backwards, twisting to shield David from harm. Both expected Wraith Drones, but it was Ronon, dressed in his typical long coat, energy weapons in each hand. The light on the back of his guns was red; it was set to kill.
"Back door's clear," Ronon said, looking over his shoulder. His features were fierce. "We have to move now."
They didn't linger.
Ignoring the screams and the high-pitched whines that tore through their skin and into their bones, they moved outside and quickly went around the cabin. John moved first, shielding David's face from the horrors around them. Sam followed, cane in hand, ignoring the protests from her knee as she tried to half-run. Ronon made up the rear, head turned upwards and swivelling side-to-side like a turret.
Others joined them, running in zigzags in the open spaces between cabins in case the beams came their way. Sam saw Sarah pulling a nightgown-clad Rosemary by the hand, followed by Dr Matthews. Marines with the few working P90s left in the colony stood placed here and there, keeping a lookout for Wraith darts and guiding people the right way. There was no sign of ground forces.
A queue formed at the back door - a narrow opening in the palisade wall intended as an escape route - and Sam found herself separated from John and David. She looked for them frantically amidst the fleeing crowd, and thought she could see John's spiky hair in the flashes of light before he was gone.
"It's coming this way!" someone cried out, the voice panicked and unfamiliar.
Weapons fire commenced. People pushed against the opening and Sam was squeezed between Ronon's broad chest and Dr Matthews's shoulder. She couldn't move and, for a moment, she couldn't breathe. The air was pressed out of her.
Then, as if coming out of water right before you drowned, Sam was on the other side of the palisades and the pressure lifted. She gasped for air, taking in mouthfuls.
"Sam!" John's voice was somewhere in the throng.
Sam looked up. People began to fan out, setting off at full speed towards the forest rising in the darkness. John and David stood in the shadow of a tree, and Ronon grasped Sam's arm to pull her away from the crowd. She limped after him, the cane forgotten, her head filled with the sound of David's frantic crying.
"Shh, mommy's here," said John as Sam reached them. He rocked David back and forth, the boy wailing at the top of his voice. The horrible sound tore through Sam's insides like a knife. "Look, she's here now. Shh."
"David." Sam hugged them both, feeling dizzy and relieved. The detachedness from before disappeared. "I'm here, sweetie. Mommy's here. It's okay."
David twisted in John's arms and stretched his own small ones towards Sam. He still cried, inconsolable. Sam took him, shifting his weight against her hip, and rocked him tightly against her chest. Her own breaths came quick and gasping. She was sure the pain showed on her face. John looked worried.
"We can't stop," said Ronon, eyes behind them beyond the palisade wall. "They'll be coming back for another round."
John eyed Sam, his face hardening. "Can you make it?"
With David refusing to leave Sam's arms, the bags on her back and her complaining knee, Sam doubted it, but there was no other option. This was about survival, nothing else.
"Yes," she said, meeting John's eyes. The words passed between them silently. There was no room for arguments. They knew the stakes.
"Okay." John looked behind them towards the colony. The gun was back in his hand as he put a hand on Sam's lower back. "Let's move."
They joined the others running for safety to the thick western forest. Sam moved as fast as she could, John and Ronon running hunched on either side of her, eyes behind them. David cried in her ears, deafening other sounds.
But he couldn't deafen the high-pitched whine of the Wraith darts. They were coming closer, like a freight train roaring threateningly in the distance.
Sam ran, ignoring the pain in her knee and the burning muscles in her arms and shoulders. David cried louder. The high-pitched whines almost deafened him.
Fifty yards. The forest might as well have been a mile away. Sam realised with a twist of her insides that she might not make it. The whines coming from the Wraith darts beat against her eardrums. Her arms tightened around David, crushing him against her chest. She kicked harder against the ground, trying to pick up speed. Pain flared up in her knee, but she pushed on.
The darts were almost right on top of them. She could feel the vibration in the air and in the ground, looming ever closer.
It's still too far. I won't make it. I won't-
Sam heard John yell something, but she couldn't make out the words. Then, John's hand wasn't on her back anymore.
Shocked, Sam stopped completely, eyes wide as she saw John run away from them, away from the crowd. He was out in the open, alone, making himself a target. He waved his arms and fired his gun at one of the Wraith darts, the muzzle flashes lighting up his face in reddish colours.
"John! No!"
John turned, not forty yards away, and in the growing light now headed his way, Sam could see him yell something at her. The words were inaudible between David's cries and the deafening high-pitched whines. She started towards him, yelling, but someone held her back. She struggled against the grip, all sounds gone now, as John met her eyes and opened his mouth to form the words-
The next moment, he was gone.
"That tickles." Sam turned her head to grin at John, who lay propped up on his elbow next to her in the grass. A lazy smirk crossed his face.
"Sorry," he said, but Sam knew very well that he didn't mean it. For one, his hand didn't move from the bare skin of her neck where he played with the long strands of her braided hair.
With an amused roll of her eyes, Sam laid her head back down on her arms and enjoyed the warmth spreading through her.
She couldn't remember the last time - if ever - she'd done this. It was a rare luxury to lie in the grass on a summer's day like teenagers without a care in the world. Just two years ago, they'd been on Atlantis preparing for battle. A few months later, they'd struggled to see how they'd survive the harsh winter on this planet.
It seemed an eternity since. For a long time, Sam had mourned the thought that they'd never get back to Atlantis or Earth. But then, life returned. Sam felt whole in a way she doubted she'd ever felt before. Like this planet and their situation had found a piece of her she'd been missing.
John's fingers drifted lower on her neck to tease the edge of her dress. Sam looked at him again. The smirk was there in full, joined by a suggestive twinkle in his eyes.
"You want me to stop?" he asked, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of her dress.
Sam smiled and reached a hand up to caress John's bearded cheek. Warmth welled up inside her chest that had nothing to do with the sun or John's fingers on her skin. It felt wonderful. Liberating.
"Never," she said softly and pulled him close.
Fifty-two colonists reached the forest unscathed. For the rest of the night, they continued to move as far away from the colony as possible in case the Wraith sent down Commanders and Drones to hunt them down. They had no idea whether the Wraith kept to their traditional culling routine or were desperate enough to take everyone, even the children, so it was better to be prepared for anything.
Sam limped alongside Sarah, each holding their child in their arms. Both Rosemary and David had fallen asleep from exhaustion. Sam felt close to joining them, but her internal autopilot kept her feet moving, one agonising step at a time. In her mind, John's face before he disappeared in the beam lingered as an imprint on her retinae. She grew numb to the coldness that washed through her veins.
Neither spoke. Words were unnecessary. They just walked, following the ones who walked in front of them. Up ahead, Ronon led the way, with the surviving Marines taking up positions on the flanks and at the rear. The entire column of survivors was silent save for sounds of motion.
Dawn broke as they finally reached a crop of mountains in the middle of the forest. There were mining caves and tunnels here, which the hunters also used as shelter in winter when it was too cold for mining, and the weary group of survivors trailed inside the darkness of cold rock.
Sam and Sarah found a spot inside the reinforced cave system to put down Rosemary and David, who still slept soundly. Shrugging off her bags, Sam left them in Sarah's hands and limped back outside where Ronon talked to the Marines.
"Keep your guard up," Ronon said, eyeing the soldiers lined up around him. "Even if the darts went back to wherever they came from, they might have left Drones behind. If you see one: shoot first. Don't ask questions."
A round of "aye, sir" swept through the Marines, who spread out and took up defensive positions outside the caves. It spoke highly of their training that despite their obvious tiredness and minimal ammunition, the Marines didn't waver.
Ronon spotted Sam and eyed her approach warily, his face still fierce but with eyes that softened just a notch with silent understanding.
"Sam," he greeted.
Sam halted and leaned heavily on her cane, giving their surroundings a close look. The trees were tall and would give the cave entrances good cover from the air. Any detection would have to come at ground level. Unfortunately, the trees were thickly clustered and would make it as difficult for the Marines to spot any intruders as for the Wraith to locate them by eyesight alone.
"How long can we stay here?" Sam asked, feeling both disconnected and weighed down. It was a wake-up call to have their past pay a surprise visit. Things she'd almost forgotten came back to her.
"Long enough," Ronon said. "There's stored food, firewood and blankets in the caves. Not enough for everyone, but we've shared before."
Sam nodded curtly, not too comfortable with the notion that they were almost back to the miserable condition as when they'd first landed on this planet. She'd hoped they'd never had to experience that again, especially not the children.
"I'd like a roll call now that everyone's settled," Sam said. "Make sure-ugh…"
Pain flared up her left leg and Sam felt nauseous. She noticed Ronon step closer and she held up her hand to stall him, breathing through the pain.
"Please make sure everyone's aware of any escape routes and contingency plans," Sam finished, looking up at Ronon, whose face seemed even fiercer. "I'm leaving this in your hands for the moment, Ronon. If I don't sit down for a while, I'm sure John'd be-"
Sam broke off, realising what she'd said. Her throat clenched tightly and sudden tears sprung in her eyes. It worsened when Ronon put his hand awkwardly on her shoulder, and Sam struggled to regain control of her trembling body.
"Get some rest," Ronon said lowly. His hand went down to grab her elbow and guide her inside, but Sam shrugged him off.
"I'm fine," she said, not meeting his eyes. She shifted her weight onto the cane and turned back towards the cave entrance. "Just keep me informed."
Sam groaned as Dr Matthews slowly moved her knee back and forth. Even with the painkiller she'd been given, the pain was unbelievable. Now she understood how Cam had felt all those years ago, albeit his recovery would've been much easier with modern, top-of-the-line technology available.
Standing in the tent opening like a silent sentinel, John looked extremely worried. Not that that image was anything new these days. When she woke up from her coma, she'd been surprised to find that when he put his mind to it, John Sheppard could be a real mother hen. Ever since the crash, he'd always been the first to caution her to rest properly, or get enough water and food. Any other day his fussing would amuse her immensely, but not today.
"The fractures should be healed by now, but you've lost muscle mass and there's possible nerve damage as well," said the doctor as he continued testing her mobility. "You'll need to build up your muscles before you attempt to walk again."
"How long?" Sam gritted her teeth, trying to relax so Dr Matthews could complete his examination. She let out an involuntary gasp when needle-like pinpricks seemed to run up her thigh. John's frown deepened and he seemed to struggle to stand still.
"Depends on your strength," said Dr Matthews. He peered at her through his broken glasses. "I'd say a month, maybe more. That said, I think you should know that you might never be able to use your leg fully as before. If we'd had access to modern equipment-"
"But we don't," Sam interjected, having long since faced the reality of her injuries. "Right now, I'll be happy just to be able to move on two feet. I don't care if I'll have a limp or not."
It took a moment before Dr Matthews nodded. He carefully laid Sam's leg down onto the furs. "You know I can't guarantee anything."
Sam managed a small smile. "I know. You've done a great job under the circumstances, doc. I'm impressed."
She was, but the sentiment grew harder to remember over the next week as Sam pushed herself painfully through her exercises. It was hard. Too hard. Despite a week's training, she'd gotten nowhere. Nothing had improved. The exercises didn't help.
After a particularly excruciating workout that was forced to end before she was ready, Sam laid on her side in a corner of the tent, ignoring the fifteen or so others talking lowly in the background. Hot, angry tears ran silently down her face. She buried them in the fur she was wrapped in, refusing to let out the thick sobs that stuck in her throat. Right now, she wished she were alone. At least then no one could see…
"Hey." John spoke before a hand was put gently on her shoulder.
Sam stiffened, her breath stopped.
"You'll be fine," John said, almost in a whisper, but his voice was firm. "Don't give up, you hear? You'll get there… Sam."
Another hot, burning tear dribbled down the ridge of her nose at the gentle way he said her name. Not 'Colonel', not 'ma'am', just… Sam burrowed her face in her makeshift pillow and tried to ignore the steady presence next to her; tried to ignore the fact that he was slipping under her skin day by day.
All the while, John's hand didn't move away. It stayed, firm and present, until the silent tears stopped and Sam's breaths finally evened out.
She didn't meet his eyes, not even when he brought some hot broth later and all traces of her tears were physically gone. She remained silent for the rest of the evening, feeling as if people skirted their eyes at her knowingly. But she didn't turn her back on them again. Instead, she lay in her bundle of furs and stared at the patched ceiling of the tent, and let her mind churn over and over.
When John returned from his part of the night shift, carefully easing himself down on his spot next to Sam's, she finally met his glittering gaze in the dim darkness.
"Thank you," she whispered, not wanting to wake the others.
For a moment, he looked startled. As if he'd expected her to be asleep or something else. Then John eyed her, nodded, and opened his fur welcomingly, just as he'd done every evening since that night in the cave.
Sam hesitated only a second before scooting closer and finding that spot next to him that was becoming so dangerously comfortable. Laying her head on his chest, her arm slung around his middle, Sam closed her eyes and focused on his heartbeat.
This winter was unforgiving, but it never felt cold next to him. She was starting to realise this, even starting slowly to accept it. With him, she could just be Sam. She didn't have to be the Colonel. The feeling was liberating.
For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, Sam startled awake. Immediately, she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. It reverberated in the walls of the cave.
Jolting upright, Sam untangled herself and quickly checked that David was still next to her. In the light coming from a dying fire nearby, she saw him stirring beneath the blankets, but still asleep.
The gunfire continued. Short bursts, but steady. Not frantic. Controlled. But they didn't relent either.
"Sarah." Sam shook the woman next to her, her mind already working hard. "Thomas. Wake up."
"What's going-" Dr Matthews's voice broke off as he too heard the gunfire. He immediately jolted up, eyes on the dark tunnel leading from the cave to the outside.
"Get up," Sam said, already on her knees and pulling her two bags of belongings onto her back. "Wake people up. Get them ready, but be calm. We might have to move out."
All around them in the large cave, people stirred as Sam, Sarah and Dr Matthews began to move around. A baby began to cry in the corner, waking his mother, and two more children chimed in. Sam couldn't help worry that the sound might travel outside.
Sam was halfway through her warning trip when Ronon came running through the tunnel. Gunfire still sounded outside, but the control was weakening. It was growing more frantic.
She approached Ronon quickly. "Wraith?"
Ronon nodded, eying the bustle of motion in the cave. "We killed four, but there's more coming. You need to get out now."
Sam looked up sharply, not missing his inflection. "What about you?"
"Distraction," he said simply, his dark eyes fiery. Ronon held out one of his energy magnum weapons, the blue light indicating its stun function was turned on. "You know how to use it."
Sam took it, the weight heavy but familiar in her hand. He'd taught her how to use it years ago. She gave Ronon a hard look. It'd be pointless to tell him or the Marines not to do it. This was about survival. Sacrificing the few to save the many. But irrationally, Sam struggled to accept it. It was too soon. She'd just lost John, she couldn't…
Her eyes burned unexpectedly.
"Mommy?" David's voice was shaking, on the brink of crying. He sat with the blankets pooled around him, eyes searching the cave, oblivious to Sarah's attempts at comforting him.
Ronon put his hand on Sam's shoulder. She gave him a tremulous stare and squeezed his hand.
"Get going," Ronon said lowly. "We've got your six."
With that, he turned and navigated through the crowd to reach the tunnel that led outside. Sam was left to stare after him, seeing the familiar dreadlocks tower above all other heads, then disappear around a corner.
When she blinked back tears, she realised everyone in the crowd was looking at her. Expecting her to lead. Tightening her grip on Ronon's gun, Sam said tonelessly, "Get to the escape tunnels."
"Starting early is good."
Ronon's sudden voice made Sam look up from where she sat writing down equations in the dirt with a stick. She followed his gaze to see David and John locked in a game of tag. The three-year-old was chasing John and almost touched the back of his father's trousers, then laughed out loud when John skipped sideways and made an extravagant whirl to a safe distance.
"You mean playing?" Sam asked, smiling at the sight. It always filled her with the warm fuzzies.
"Training," said Ronon. Startled, Sam looked at him. "On Sateda, children began to train at age four. This 'game', as you call it, hones their hunting skills. The Athosians have something similar."
Sam hadn't thought of it that way. She frowned as she watched John let himself be tagged, and then made a big show of how he was now going to catch David. The boy squealed in exhilarated fright and took off around the corner of a nearby cabin. The thought of her son training rather than playing worried her.
"It's not a conscious choice," Sam said eventually. "On most places on Earth, we don't train our children with the intention that they will one day be forced to fight for their lives, or to secure food. Our society's safe enough that they don't need to worry about that. They can just play."
"Well, this isn't Earth," Ronon said simply.
He wasn't being malicious; Sam knew that. From the moment they'd landed on this planet, she'd known things would be different. Their children would face a far less secure future than they would on Earth, or even Atlantis. Conditions had changed. They lived and fought to survive. While Sam probably wouldn't let this simpler life stop her from teaching David or the other children about maths, science or Earth history, she knew they would need a different skillset than their parents.
But the thought of something as innocent as a game of tag being a way to train hunting or evasion skills...it didn't sit right with her. Children should be happy. Children should be safe. Children shouldn't have to worry about food, water or shelter.
"You're probably right," Sam said lowly, looking up as David and John came around the opposite corner of the cabin they'd disappeared behind, the former still squealing with laughter. She managed to find her smile again at the look of pure bliss on David's face. "But I wouldn't mind pretending it's just a game. There'll be time for training. Someday. For now, we're here. We'll protect them."
She knew Ronon probably disagreed, but watching John finally grab David around the middle and flip him up into the air, his baritone chuckles joining David's high-pitched laughter, she didn't care. This was worth it. They'd seen so much, done so many terrible things. Their own innocence had been lost decades ago. The children were still pure, and Sam would cross hell and high waters to ensure that David wouldn't lose that sooner than he had to.
There was still time.
At first, she didn't understand the sudden pandemonium of panic. Sam pushed through the crowd going in the opposite direction, her fingers wound tightly around Ronon's gun. Then, in the flickering light coming from the torches fastened to the tunnel wall, the cause became apparent.
"No!"
Sam's voice broke as she halted, the others still pushing frantically past her in the narrow mining tunnel. Only a few metres behind them, Levin was being reduced to a white-haired husk in front of her eyes. Her five-year-old son Evan shrieked at the top of his voice, red-faced, clawing at the arm that was attached to his mother's chest, banging at it with his small fists.
The Wraith Commander barred his teeth like a feral grin.
Then a red bolt of energy hit him straight in the face. The grin dropped, but the Wraith was still standing. He yanked Evan off his arm and flung him sideways, turning to Sam, eyes narrowed.
Sam pulled the trigger on Ronon's gun once, twice, sending off red-hot bolts of energy with a yell. It hit the Wraith squarely in the chest and neck, making the Commander stumble forward.
But he kept coming. With a roar that tore through her mind, the Wraith surged forward, feeding arm outstretched.
Sam didn't think. She sent off two more shots, ducking underneath the outstretched arm, and then elbowed the Wraith in the neck as he staggered from the shots. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as the Wraith turned, swinging a clawed hand aimed for her face. She jerked back, ignoring the needles of pain shooting up her left leg as her weight pushed down on it.
The gun was torn from her hand. Sam flung herself down and rolled, in the process finding the knife she kept with her at all times. With a yell, she jabbed it into the Wraith's calf, quickly scrambling to her feet as he roared in pain.
Using the distraction, she looked for the gun and found it near the tunnel wall. She'd nearly caught it when a hand gripped her ankle and yanked her back. The Wraith twisted her leg, inducing white-hot pain that threatened to black her out. Sam reacted instinctively, kicking her other leg with force against the Wraith's stomach.
The grip dropped as the Wraith grunted and reeled backwards. Sam quickly clambered for the gun and twisted sideways just as the Wraith's feeding hand came crashing down. It hit the ground instead, giving her time to roll over and then plant the gun an inch from the Wraith Commander's face.
She pulled the trigger. The Wraith's face snapped sideways, then his body crashed into the ground. Sam pushed away from him with her legs and fired off another two shots in the process. The Wraith jerked, but didn't move again.
For a long while, Sam lay panting on the ground, gun still aimed at the motionless Wraith. Then, gradually, her surroundings came back into focus. She heard Evan's cries, mingled with David's, who was somewhere ahead of her in the tunnel. There were sounds of shuffling, and then Dr Matthews pushed through the lingering crowd to crouch next to her.
"Colonel, are you alright?"
His eyes went up and down her body, landing on her twisted left leg. Sam grimaced, adrenaline still numbing most of the pain. Her head was filled with children's cries.
"Where's David?" she asked, sitting up. She tested her leg gently; she could still move it. Nothing seemed broken or torn. It'd just reacted to the abnormal twist.
"With Sarah. He's okay," Dr Matthews said.
He checked her leg too with expert motions, making sure there was nothing wrong. Then he sat back on his knees and looked over at the crying boy still clinging to his mother's husk. One of the others was already approaching him, trying to remove him gently from Levin's body, but the boy refused.
Sam's insides twisted. Evan's dad - Hutchinson - had been with the Marines in the colony safeguarding their escape. He'd never reached the forest. For all they knew, Evan was now an orphan.
Later, when David was once more secure in her arms and they were hurrying through the mining tunnels to the cool outside, Sam couldn't help think she'd almost made her son an orphan too.
"I could've died," Sam said quietly. She lay in the bed that John had moved into the living room, watching him pace in front of the blazing fireplace with baby David in his arms. Even a month after her Caesarean, she still felt incredibly weak. Like almost all the life had drained out of her.
John looked up, a dark frown on his face. "I don't need reminding, Sam. I was here."
Sam sighed. "I know, it's just… It made me realise that there are some things we'll never have that we used to have. Medicine, technology: things we've depended on to save our lives in the past. Dying in childbirth is something I imagined only happened in the third world or before the 20th century. Not…"
"Yeah, but you made it," John said firmly. He stepped closer, his voice softening as he rocked a mewling David. "Look, we knew we were gonna have lousy odds on this planet compared to Earth or Atlantis, but we're still from the 21st century. We know a lot more that can save our lives today. You're living proof of that."
Sam managed a small smile. "Even so, you gotta admit we're way beyond the definition of 'roughing it'."
"No doubt." John walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, tilting his arms so Sam could see the tiny face wrapped up in the bundle of furs. A smile played on his lips. "But look at this guy. I don't think he'll mind growing up here."
Sam stroked David's nose with the tip of her finger, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I guess not. Can't miss what you don't have, right?"
"Right on." John smirked, then panicked a little when David started to squirm; his tiny face scrunched up in what they'd learned was his warning of a pre-crying fit. "And that's your cue, Mama Bear. You've got something he misses, and he ain't getting it from me."
Sam chuckled and accepted David in her arms. As she nursed him, she saw John stare mesmerised at them, his eyes filled with indescribable emotion. And she knew. If something should happen again, she'd do whatever she could to make sure their son would always have his mommy. They both would.
The beasts were nearby. Maybe just yards away. Or it could be the Wraith; Sam didn't dare take the chance to look outside the fissure. But she could hear movement. She could hear the savage breaths in the darkness, and they weren't human.
The rock was cold and ice threatened to set in her bones from hours of disuse, but Sam didn't have a choice. She pushed as far as she could into the fissure, held David tight against her chest, and let the tears run silently down her cheeks as she listened intently.
There were cracks in the distance from twigs being snapped. Sam tightened her hold, making David squirm uncomfortably in protest.
"Shh," Sam mumbled beneath her breath, almost not daring to breathe.
David seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation. He stopped squirming, but turned his head so he could stare out through the fissure. His breaths were quick and warm against Sam's neck, but he didn't say a word. The action made Sam's insides twist and churn, making more tears run down her cheek.
He's too young for this.
The survivors had split up after they exited the escape tunnels in the hopes that it'd be harder for the Wraith to detect them. Finding a few thermal life signs was by far more difficult than finding a group of forty people that stuck together. The weapons that were left had been divided between the smaller groups, and everyone had been aware that finding somewhere to hide was the best course of action for the time being. They couldn't outrun the Wraith forever.
Sam and David had trailed north with Sarah, Dr Matthews and Rosemary along the mountain ridge, drawing farther and farther from the known area around the colony. From John's hunting stories, Sam had known there were plenty of caves in these mountains - but there were also an equal number of nocturnal carnivores, some as large as a grizzly bear.
When night fell upon them again, they'd found an area with several fissures in the rock wall. It was the best they could do. Sam and David snuggled up in one, while the Matthews family found a larger one that could hold them all.
But Sam didn't dare sleep. The forest beyond the mountain had been alive with sounds. She'd heard the howls of the beasts that'd hounded the colony in the past year as they called to each other. She'd known that they, like the Wraith, were able to detect thermal signatures, and that they wouldn't hesitate to kill if given the chance. That's how they'd lost three hunters last year.
As she listened now to the cracks and breaths drawing nearer, Sam squeezed her fingers around Ronon's gun and focused on anything but the boy burrowing his head into her neck. For a moment, her head was filled with the memory of the Kull warrior who'd hunted her so many years ago. The feeling was the same now as then, except this time it wasn't just her life on the stake.
A sudden howl made Sam jump, clenching David's body to her own, and she raised her - Ronon's - gun towards the opening of the fissure. Her heart beat wildly. The beast couldn't be more than yards away. It could probably smell them and was calling to the others.
David still didn't say a word. His fingers gripped the front of Sam's shirt, threatening to shake Sam out of her military detachedness.
She held the gun more firmly.
The howl stopped. For a second, it hung in the air like an echo, and then another howl pierced the night in the distance. It was more muted, but it caused the beast lurking outside to suddenly take off.
Holding her breath, Sam listened as the beast ran away, tearing through the undergrowth of the forest outside with loud cracks. Only when there was complete silence did she dare let out her breath.
"Is it gone?" David whispered, still calm against her chest.
Immense relief washed over Sam and she managed a smile. "Yes. It's gone."
But she couldn't help wonder who else had been found in the forest and had become the beasts' prey instead of them. She hoped that it was just an animal. She wasn't sure if she could handle more losses.
Sam sat in the opening to the wreck of Daedalus, wrapped in furs, staring at the field of graves in the distance. There were so many of them. Row upon row, the graves held two or three people at once.
No one had liked the idea of mass graves, but the ground was too hard and ice-packed to make one grave for each of the nearly two hundred fatalities before the bodies rotted. In the end, it'd been John's decision.
He was out there now with Ronon, making another grave with scraps of metal they used as spades. Her heart twisted with each thud of the makeshift spades, and she knew she'd see pain in John's eyes again when he returned, sitting silently beside her in the twilight as he did every night.
He'd changed. They all had. Sam didn't know what was worse, to see the hopelessness and defeat in the faces around her or to feel it slowly creeping into her own. When she woke up from her coma, this wasn't what she'd expected. The last thing she could remember was that they broke off the attack on Asuras. Beyond that, she was blank. Dr Matthews said it was because of the concussion, that the memories might come back, but Sam wasn't sure if she wanted to remember. Who would want to remember their utter defeat, the lives that had been lost before their very eyes?
John told her she'd ensured that the Daedalus didn't crash into the system's sun, managing to steer them to this planet instead, but it sounded as if someone else had done it. Maybe Rodney, who'd died not four yards away from her, crushed under a collapsed ceiling. How she'd managed to get under the console that saved her life from the collapsed ceiling, she didn't know. Had she done it herself, or had Rodney pushed her there?
There was so much she didn't know. One minute, she'd been in Engineering on Daedalus, the next she'd woken up and the whole world had changed. Rodney was dead, so was Novak, Caldwell, Marks, Cooper and countless others that she knew by name. So many dead… and for what? They didn't know what happened to the Asurans, to the Wraith, or to Atlantis and the Athosians. No one had come for them. With the homing beacon destroyed, how could they know they were even alive? And if she'd tried to save herself instead of Rodney, she couldn't - wouldn't - forgive herself. She'd rather be dead.
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as the last thought crashed through her mind, and she squeezed them tightly shut, feeling as if she'd fallen into a dark hole with no bottom. Silent sobs racked her body as she floundered in the darkness, and she lost track of time.
When a hand was put on her shoulder, Sam jumped, sending waves of pain up her broken leg and arm.
"Sorry." John's voice was toneless. She looked up to see he'd sat down next to her, his hand moving awkwardly away from her shoulder. The tough façade he'd put on his face these days betrayed nothing.
He looked away and Sam followed his gaze. Ronon and a couple of Marines were shovelling dirt back into the shallow grave they'd dug, then added a pile of rocks on top.
Fresh tears ran down Sam's cheeks. A sudden urge to speak made her blurt out, "He was in the bed next to me. His name was Fabian. He was assigned to the Apollo. He…he told me he didn't want to die. I held his hand and told him he wouldn't. Then he was gone."
John glanced at her once beneath furrowed eyebrows, his features cut in stone, but he remained silent. Perhaps stories like hers were commonplace now. So many had died while she was in a coma. Why did it have to be so much death? Why now? What was the point?
"He shouldn't have died," said Sam, her throat thick and sore, not caring if she was coming apart right in front of her 2IC. The tears burned on her cold cheeks. "None of them should."
"It's war," John said lowly. "We can't predict what'll happen. This time, we caught the losing hand."
"But our intel was good," Sam said, shaking her head, clutching the furs close to her frozen body. "By all accounts, we should've caught them pants-down. Why…?"
She broke off, reaching up with her healthy hand to cover her eyes. They burned like fire against the cold. In her mind's eye, she could see Rodney's animated face as they spoke about the finishing touches to their plan in the Atlantis conference room. Could see the approving nods from Caldwell and Ellis, the acceptance from Teyla and Ronon, and John…
"Stop," John said suddenly, his voice gruff. "It's not your fault. The replicators did this. They're to blame. It's solely on their shoulders. Not ours."
Sam opened her eyes. John still stared at Ronon and the Marines in the field of graves, but something had slipped past his stony façade. There was incredible, indescribable pain in his eyes despite the bitterness in his voice. They seemed to shimmer with unshed tears.
Her heart broke. Without thinking, Sam reached out and put her good hand on John's arm. He startled a little, his stony mask sliding back into place, but Sam didn't let go. She squeezed his arm and met his eyes, trying to muster the words that struggled inside her chest.
But the words didn't - couldn't - come, and so their eyes spoke instead. Anger, remorse, grief, hopelessness, defeat; they all played in their eyes. But no hope. There could be no hope when their friends were dead and their own future was so uncertain.
Not now, but one day. Perhaps one day soon.
In the meantime, Sam didn't let go of John's arm. And, eventually, his hand reached up to cover hers, and words were unnecessary. Because, how could you put words on something so profound, something so great, and something so terrible? For now, their proximity was enough. They could grieve together. They could be angry together. They could - one day, hopefully - go forward together.
It would have to be enough. For now.
After the sleepless night in the fissures, Sam, David and the Matthews family trailed further north until they found another small system of caves. There was no escape tunnel this time, but it was shelter and more defensible than the fissures.
They stayed there for a week. For the first couple of nights, Sam insisted on taking large parts of the night shift, as none of the others had any combat experience. She couldn't sleep anyhow. Neither Dr Matthews nor Sarah could convince her otherwise, so Sam found herself staring out of the cave entrance in the early hours of the morning as rain poured down by the bucket load, feeling her mood shift with the weather.
The rain season had begun. In a month's time, winter would be upon them. Their hopes right now were that the Wraith had left and that most of the colony was salvageable. Otherwise, they'd have to live out of these caves until spring. There was nowhere else.
It pained Sam to see the drawn and worn faces again in Dr Matthews and Sarah as the days wore on, and to know that it was reflected it her own. Despite her vow to move on, she couldn't help the sense of hopelessness, grief, shock, anger, and of all those emotions that threatened to consume her from within.
John standing out in the field, alone, arms outstretched and muzzle flashes lighting up his face; the image was burned into her retinae. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. John's face turned towards her, his dark eyes glittering in the darkness, his skin pale from the approaching beam's light, his mouth open as if to scream…
"Sam."
Sam startled as Sarah laid a blanket around her shoulders. The other woman smiled and sat down next to her in the cave entrance, the foggy morning light casting a pale and cold colour across her features.
"It's growing colder. You shouldn't sit here all night. I'll take this watch."
"I'm okay," Sam said dismissively, but she pulled the blanket closer and gave Sarah a small smile. "Thanks."
Sarah shrugged. "I worry about you, Sam. You don't sleep and you don't eat."
"I'm not that hungry," Sam said, looking back out at the pouring rain.
"Don't try to fool me, Sam. I know you too well." Sarah grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I understand you're being brave for David, but you can't keep it all bottled up. It'll consume you. John wouldn't want you to-"
"John's gone, Sarah." Sam's tone was fierce and bitter. "He's gone, Levin's gone, Ronon's gone… Everybody's gone. It's just us."
Sarah's large doe-like eyes understood too much. Sam couldn't face her, so she wrenched her head away and fixed her eyes upon a clutter of bushes down at the treeline, clutching Ronon's gun tightly in her hand.
"We'll survive," Sam said eventually, her words hollow, "but it's just us now. I don't think those who were taken will come back from this. They're probably already dead. The Wraith don't always wait to feed, especially if the Asurans are continuing to starve them by attacking human planets."
"Sam…" Sarah's grip on Sam's hand tightened. "Listen to me, please. I know the odds and the facts, but John's always beaten the odds before. How many times hasn't he found a way out of Wraith captivity? He'll come back to you. He loves you, Sam. And he'd never leave David without his dad."
"He knew I wouldn't make it to the treeline in time, so he made himself a target," Sam said, her throat constricting. Her next words came out in a hoarse whisper. "I don't think he's coming back this time. I don't think he meant to."
"Don't say that!" Sarah raised her voice abruptly, adding firmly, "You once told me the future's not set in stone, that anything can happen. If not in this reality or dimension or whatever, then in another."
"That doesn't exactly encourage me," Sam said mirthlessly. Sarah almost rolled her eyes in exasperation, knowing full well that Sam wasn't so obtuse that she didn't understand where Sarah was going with this.
"What I mean,"Sarah said, giving Sam a little glare as if annoyed that she had to explain herself,"is that if John can die in another reality, he can live in this one. So don't give up. You gave me hope once that we'd get through the crash, the death of our friends, the first winter, and the fact that we might never get back to Earth again. So now I'm telling you, don't lose hope. Please, Sam."
Sam didn't reply. She stared out the entrance at the fog-covered forest below them, the last moment she saw John playing in her mind. For the past five days, she'd tried to work out what he'd said to her before the beam caught him, but she was still clueless. She'd never been a good lip-reader.
"I'm not sure how to go on, Sarah…" Sam said finally, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. Her chest began to shake in restrained sobs. She didn't meet her friend's eyes, but Sarah's hand tightened around hers.
"He should be here. He told me he'd be here. I can't go through this again. Not alone."
As Sam lapsed into silence, a million thoughts running through her mind, she could see Sarah surveying her quietly in the corner of her eye. Her friend's voice was solemn when she stated, "You're pregnant, aren't you?"
Sam's eyed widened and she whirled around. "How did-"
"I'm the village's unofficial midwife," Sarah said, smiling a little. "I recognise the signs. You've been throwing up in the evenings. Just like you did when you were expecting David. And you can't stand the smell of cooking gindrake roots. Frankly, I expected you to tell me sooner." Her eyes softened as she squeezed Sam's hand. "So John knew?"
Sam sighed, staring at Sarah's hand upon hers, feeling no urge to remove it. "He suspected. Said he recognised the signs too." A fresh bout of tears ran down her face. "I don't know what to do, Sarah. What do I do?"
"You move on," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "Like we did seven years ago. We pick ourselves up and we move on. You'll start to eat and sleep again, and you'll take care of yourself, your son and your baby, and you'll wait, because John will come back. I know he will. Whatever happened to him, he'll return, and you better be in shape when he does or he'll give me hell."
Despite it all, Sam chuckled, and it felt - for the tiniest moment - good.
Next chapter
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Characters: Samantha Carter, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Original Characters
Word Count: 9282
Rating: T
Spoilers: SGA up to BAMSR (4X11). AU after that.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Stargate characters or the universe. It belongs to MGM and the Sci-Fi channel.
First published: 13 September 2013 on archiveofourown.org
Summary: "Seven years of peace ended on a chilling autumn night."
Sequel to "Your Eyes Turned Skywards". Starts 7-8 years after BAMSR, SGA 4x11.
"I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death."
- Leonardo Da Vinci
1
Now that I know what I'm without,
You can't just leave me.
Breathe into me and make me real.
Bring me to life.
"Bring Me Back To Life", Evanescence
The space was nothing more than a fissure in the mountain wall, not even room enough to call it a cave or stand straight. But it was shelter, and right now Sam couldn't ask for more.
"I'm cold."
Sam looked down to the pale, drawn face huddled inside a thick fur against her chest. Large, round eyes met hers, and her insides threatened to break.
"I know, sweetie," Sam said softly, pressing a kiss to David's forehead and pulling him closer. "It'll be okay."
But even as she said it, she knew it must be a lie. A lie to comfort, nothing more; they didn't have time for hope. Hope was for those who, even though they had lost everything else, still had somewhere to go. There was no way out for them now.
"Will daddy be okay?"
David's voice was small, scared and so very young. Almost five. He stared up at her with his father's eyes, dark locks of hair trailing into his face. The fur was too big for him. It seemed to overwhelm him.
"Of course he will," Sam said, but her throat clenched, preventing any other words to come out. Tears welled up again. Sam squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, willing herself not to break. Not now, not ever. For as long as she could live, she was needed.
Once she felt sufficiently in control, she looked down and gave David a smile. "Your dad's a fighter. He'll find his way home."
Seven years of peace ended on a chilling autumn night.
Sam startled awake to the sound of muted screams and flashes like lightening in a thunderstorm outside the window. On the palisade wall surrounding the colony, the bells that tolled danger suddenly stopped mid-sound.
John was already out of bed, nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness. She could almost see his eyes glitter in the few beams of light that came through the window.
"Stay inside," John said as he pulled on his clothes and picked up a worn sidearm from a shelf. "Could be those beasts got in again."
The sound of a round entering the gun chamber broke Sam out of her trance. The gun was only for emergencies. There were few bullets left. But with the man-sized nocturnal beasts that had come down from the north to haunt the colony for the past year, they couldn't take any chances. They'd already lost good people.
Her insides chilled.
John was out the door before Sam could say a word. The screams continued: distant, alien and muted. The window flashed with white light, and on the other side of the colony a fire was brewing. Something was aflame.
David.
Slight panic filled Sam as she swung her feet off the bed and slipped a woollen dress over her naked form. Fingers groped for her cane in its usual place and found it. With only some minor complaint from her left knee, she got to her feet and hurried into the living room.
The windows flashed like there was lightening outside, but there was no sound of thunder. Sam stopped and stared through the glass panes, frowning.
People ran all over. Skirting between houses here and there, running - always running - and Sam could see why. A beam of light trailed after them, then swept them off the ground as it caught up. They disappeared.
"Oh my god," Sam whispered, frozen.
The cabin's front door banged open. John ran back inside and closed it behind him, gun still in hand. Their eyes met and a long-forgotten dread dropped like a cold stone into Sam's stomach when she saw the confirmation in John's face.
The Wraith.
"We need to get out of here," John said, his voice hard.
Sam brooked no argument. Questions of why and how would have to wait. There was no time.
As one, they sprung into action. John hurried back into their bedroom while Sam turned towards their small kitchen space. An old familiar detachedness she'd thought was long-gone filled her.
With deft fingers, Sam found two Athosian-style leather bags and filled them with whatever food and equipment she deemed necessary. John re-entered the living room with a heap of clothes in his hands and laid the bundle on the table. Then he went into the second bedroom.
Sam dressed quickly as John returned with David, who'd woken up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. The boy was on the brink of crying. She could see him build up to a sleepy, scared fit and hurriedly took him from John.
"It's okay, sweetie," Sam mumbled and stroked David's hair, holding him close as the boy's chest trembled. John finished collecting what they needed into the bags. "It's okay. We're just going outside for a while. Go back to sleep. It's okay."
"Here," John gestured and Sam handed David back, the boy calm now but confused. He buried his face in John's neck, clutching the front of his father's coat. The sight nearly broke Sam's detached composure.
Sam picked up the bags and wore them like rucksacks. John quickly dressed David and wrapped him in a blanket, then held him against his chest and rubbed his back, muttering words of comfort beneath his breath.
"Where?" Sam asked simply, taking her cane.
"Gotta stay away from large open spaces, so only option is west," John said, keeping his voice calm and low for David's sake. His eyes, however, reflected the tense gravity of the situation. "The others have already begun to spread out. I told them to get to the forest. It's thick enough that we might lose 'em, and we've got the mining caves in the mountains beyond that'll give us shelter."
"Okay," Sam said. She didn't want to think about who had already been taken. She knew the stakes. Her thoughts were on David.
The front door banged open again. Sam's head snapped up and John jerked backwards, twisting to shield David from harm. Both expected Wraith Drones, but it was Ronon, dressed in his typical long coat, energy weapons in each hand. The light on the back of his guns was red; it was set to kill.
"Back door's clear," Ronon said, looking over his shoulder. His features were fierce. "We have to move now."
They didn't linger.
Ignoring the screams and the high-pitched whines that tore through their skin and into their bones, they moved outside and quickly went around the cabin. John moved first, shielding David's face from the horrors around them. Sam followed, cane in hand, ignoring the protests from her knee as she tried to half-run. Ronon made up the rear, head turned upwards and swivelling side-to-side like a turret.
Others joined them, running in zigzags in the open spaces between cabins in case the beams came their way. Sam saw Sarah pulling a nightgown-clad Rosemary by the hand, followed by Dr Matthews. Marines with the few working P90s left in the colony stood placed here and there, keeping a lookout for Wraith darts and guiding people the right way. There was no sign of ground forces.
A queue formed at the back door - a narrow opening in the palisade wall intended as an escape route - and Sam found herself separated from John and David. She looked for them frantically amidst the fleeing crowd, and thought she could see John's spiky hair in the flashes of light before he was gone.
"It's coming this way!" someone cried out, the voice panicked and unfamiliar.
Weapons fire commenced. People pushed against the opening and Sam was squeezed between Ronon's broad chest and Dr Matthews's shoulder. She couldn't move and, for a moment, she couldn't breathe. The air was pressed out of her.
Then, as if coming out of water right before you drowned, Sam was on the other side of the palisades and the pressure lifted. She gasped for air, taking in mouthfuls.
"Sam!" John's voice was somewhere in the throng.
Sam looked up. People began to fan out, setting off at full speed towards the forest rising in the darkness. John and David stood in the shadow of a tree, and Ronon grasped Sam's arm to pull her away from the crowd. She limped after him, the cane forgotten, her head filled with the sound of David's frantic crying.
"Shh, mommy's here," said John as Sam reached them. He rocked David back and forth, the boy wailing at the top of his voice. The horrible sound tore through Sam's insides like a knife. "Look, she's here now. Shh."
"David." Sam hugged them both, feeling dizzy and relieved. The detachedness from before disappeared. "I'm here, sweetie. Mommy's here. It's okay."
David twisted in John's arms and stretched his own small ones towards Sam. He still cried, inconsolable. Sam took him, shifting his weight against her hip, and rocked him tightly against her chest. Her own breaths came quick and gasping. She was sure the pain showed on her face. John looked worried.
"We can't stop," said Ronon, eyes behind them beyond the palisade wall. "They'll be coming back for another round."
John eyed Sam, his face hardening. "Can you make it?"
With David refusing to leave Sam's arms, the bags on her back and her complaining knee, Sam doubted it, but there was no other option. This was about survival, nothing else.
"Yes," she said, meeting John's eyes. The words passed between them silently. There was no room for arguments. They knew the stakes.
"Okay." John looked behind them towards the colony. The gun was back in his hand as he put a hand on Sam's lower back. "Let's move."
They joined the others running for safety to the thick western forest. Sam moved as fast as she could, John and Ronon running hunched on either side of her, eyes behind them. David cried in her ears, deafening other sounds.
But he couldn't deafen the high-pitched whine of the Wraith darts. They were coming closer, like a freight train roaring threateningly in the distance.
Sam ran, ignoring the pain in her knee and the burning muscles in her arms and shoulders. David cried louder. The high-pitched whines almost deafened him.
Fifty yards. The forest might as well have been a mile away. Sam realised with a twist of her insides that she might not make it. The whines coming from the Wraith darts beat against her eardrums. Her arms tightened around David, crushing him against her chest. She kicked harder against the ground, trying to pick up speed. Pain flared up in her knee, but she pushed on.
The darts were almost right on top of them. She could feel the vibration in the air and in the ground, looming ever closer.
It's still too far. I won't make it. I won't-
Sam heard John yell something, but she couldn't make out the words. Then, John's hand wasn't on her back anymore.
Shocked, Sam stopped completely, eyes wide as she saw John run away from them, away from the crowd. He was out in the open, alone, making himself a target. He waved his arms and fired his gun at one of the Wraith darts, the muzzle flashes lighting up his face in reddish colours.
"John! No!"
John turned, not forty yards away, and in the growing light now headed his way, Sam could see him yell something at her. The words were inaudible between David's cries and the deafening high-pitched whines. She started towards him, yelling, but someone held her back. She struggled against the grip, all sounds gone now, as John met her eyes and opened his mouth to form the words-
The next moment, he was gone.
"That tickles." Sam turned her head to grin at John, who lay propped up on his elbow next to her in the grass. A lazy smirk crossed his face.
"Sorry," he said, but Sam knew very well that he didn't mean it. For one, his hand didn't move from the bare skin of her neck where he played with the long strands of her braided hair.
With an amused roll of her eyes, Sam laid her head back down on her arms and enjoyed the warmth spreading through her.
She couldn't remember the last time - if ever - she'd done this. It was a rare luxury to lie in the grass on a summer's day like teenagers without a care in the world. Just two years ago, they'd been on Atlantis preparing for battle. A few months later, they'd struggled to see how they'd survive the harsh winter on this planet.
It seemed an eternity since. For a long time, Sam had mourned the thought that they'd never get back to Atlantis or Earth. But then, life returned. Sam felt whole in a way she doubted she'd ever felt before. Like this planet and their situation had found a piece of her she'd been missing.
John's fingers drifted lower on her neck to tease the edge of her dress. Sam looked at him again. The smirk was there in full, joined by a suggestive twinkle in his eyes.
"You want me to stop?" he asked, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of her dress.
Sam smiled and reached a hand up to caress John's bearded cheek. Warmth welled up inside her chest that had nothing to do with the sun or John's fingers on her skin. It felt wonderful. Liberating.
"Never," she said softly and pulled him close.
Fifty-two colonists reached the forest unscathed. For the rest of the night, they continued to move as far away from the colony as possible in case the Wraith sent down Commanders and Drones to hunt them down. They had no idea whether the Wraith kept to their traditional culling routine or were desperate enough to take everyone, even the children, so it was better to be prepared for anything.
Sam limped alongside Sarah, each holding their child in their arms. Both Rosemary and David had fallen asleep from exhaustion. Sam felt close to joining them, but her internal autopilot kept her feet moving, one agonising step at a time. In her mind, John's face before he disappeared in the beam lingered as an imprint on her retinae. She grew numb to the coldness that washed through her veins.
Neither spoke. Words were unnecessary. They just walked, following the ones who walked in front of them. Up ahead, Ronon led the way, with the surviving Marines taking up positions on the flanks and at the rear. The entire column of survivors was silent save for sounds of motion.
Dawn broke as they finally reached a crop of mountains in the middle of the forest. There were mining caves and tunnels here, which the hunters also used as shelter in winter when it was too cold for mining, and the weary group of survivors trailed inside the darkness of cold rock.
Sam and Sarah found a spot inside the reinforced cave system to put down Rosemary and David, who still slept soundly. Shrugging off her bags, Sam left them in Sarah's hands and limped back outside where Ronon talked to the Marines.
"Keep your guard up," Ronon said, eyeing the soldiers lined up around him. "Even if the darts went back to wherever they came from, they might have left Drones behind. If you see one: shoot first. Don't ask questions."
A round of "aye, sir" swept through the Marines, who spread out and took up defensive positions outside the caves. It spoke highly of their training that despite their obvious tiredness and minimal ammunition, the Marines didn't waver.
Ronon spotted Sam and eyed her approach warily, his face still fierce but with eyes that softened just a notch with silent understanding.
"Sam," he greeted.
Sam halted and leaned heavily on her cane, giving their surroundings a close look. The trees were tall and would give the cave entrances good cover from the air. Any detection would have to come at ground level. Unfortunately, the trees were thickly clustered and would make it as difficult for the Marines to spot any intruders as for the Wraith to locate them by eyesight alone.
"How long can we stay here?" Sam asked, feeling both disconnected and weighed down. It was a wake-up call to have their past pay a surprise visit. Things she'd almost forgotten came back to her.
"Long enough," Ronon said. "There's stored food, firewood and blankets in the caves. Not enough for everyone, but we've shared before."
Sam nodded curtly, not too comfortable with the notion that they were almost back to the miserable condition as when they'd first landed on this planet. She'd hoped they'd never had to experience that again, especially not the children.
"I'd like a roll call now that everyone's settled," Sam said. "Make sure-ugh…"
Pain flared up her left leg and Sam felt nauseous. She noticed Ronon step closer and she held up her hand to stall him, breathing through the pain.
"Please make sure everyone's aware of any escape routes and contingency plans," Sam finished, looking up at Ronon, whose face seemed even fiercer. "I'm leaving this in your hands for the moment, Ronon. If I don't sit down for a while, I'm sure John'd be-"
Sam broke off, realising what she'd said. Her throat clenched tightly and sudden tears sprung in her eyes. It worsened when Ronon put his hand awkwardly on her shoulder, and Sam struggled to regain control of her trembling body.
"Get some rest," Ronon said lowly. His hand went down to grab her elbow and guide her inside, but Sam shrugged him off.
"I'm fine," she said, not meeting his eyes. She shifted her weight onto the cane and turned back towards the cave entrance. "Just keep me informed."
Sam groaned as Dr Matthews slowly moved her knee back and forth. Even with the painkiller she'd been given, the pain was unbelievable. Now she understood how Cam had felt all those years ago, albeit his recovery would've been much easier with modern, top-of-the-line technology available.
Standing in the tent opening like a silent sentinel, John looked extremely worried. Not that that image was anything new these days. When she woke up from her coma, she'd been surprised to find that when he put his mind to it, John Sheppard could be a real mother hen. Ever since the crash, he'd always been the first to caution her to rest properly, or get enough water and food. Any other day his fussing would amuse her immensely, but not today.
"The fractures should be healed by now, but you've lost muscle mass and there's possible nerve damage as well," said the doctor as he continued testing her mobility. "You'll need to build up your muscles before you attempt to walk again."
"How long?" Sam gritted her teeth, trying to relax so Dr Matthews could complete his examination. She let out an involuntary gasp when needle-like pinpricks seemed to run up her thigh. John's frown deepened and he seemed to struggle to stand still.
"Depends on your strength," said Dr Matthews. He peered at her through his broken glasses. "I'd say a month, maybe more. That said, I think you should know that you might never be able to use your leg fully as before. If we'd had access to modern equipment-"
"But we don't," Sam interjected, having long since faced the reality of her injuries. "Right now, I'll be happy just to be able to move on two feet. I don't care if I'll have a limp or not."
It took a moment before Dr Matthews nodded. He carefully laid Sam's leg down onto the furs. "You know I can't guarantee anything."
Sam managed a small smile. "I know. You've done a great job under the circumstances, doc. I'm impressed."
She was, but the sentiment grew harder to remember over the next week as Sam pushed herself painfully through her exercises. It was hard. Too hard. Despite a week's training, she'd gotten nowhere. Nothing had improved. The exercises didn't help.
After a particularly excruciating workout that was forced to end before she was ready, Sam laid on her side in a corner of the tent, ignoring the fifteen or so others talking lowly in the background. Hot, angry tears ran silently down her face. She buried them in the fur she was wrapped in, refusing to let out the thick sobs that stuck in her throat. Right now, she wished she were alone. At least then no one could see…
"Hey." John spoke before a hand was put gently on her shoulder.
Sam stiffened, her breath stopped.
"You'll be fine," John said, almost in a whisper, but his voice was firm. "Don't give up, you hear? You'll get there… Sam."
Another hot, burning tear dribbled down the ridge of her nose at the gentle way he said her name. Not 'Colonel', not 'ma'am', just… Sam burrowed her face in her makeshift pillow and tried to ignore the steady presence next to her; tried to ignore the fact that he was slipping under her skin day by day.
All the while, John's hand didn't move away. It stayed, firm and present, until the silent tears stopped and Sam's breaths finally evened out.
She didn't meet his eyes, not even when he brought some hot broth later and all traces of her tears were physically gone. She remained silent for the rest of the evening, feeling as if people skirted their eyes at her knowingly. But she didn't turn her back on them again. Instead, she lay in her bundle of furs and stared at the patched ceiling of the tent, and let her mind churn over and over.
When John returned from his part of the night shift, carefully easing himself down on his spot next to Sam's, she finally met his glittering gaze in the dim darkness.
"Thank you," she whispered, not wanting to wake the others.
For a moment, he looked startled. As if he'd expected her to be asleep or something else. Then John eyed her, nodded, and opened his fur welcomingly, just as he'd done every evening since that night in the cave.
Sam hesitated only a second before scooting closer and finding that spot next to him that was becoming so dangerously comfortable. Laying her head on his chest, her arm slung around his middle, Sam closed her eyes and focused on his heartbeat.
This winter was unforgiving, but it never felt cold next to him. She was starting to realise this, even starting slowly to accept it. With him, she could just be Sam. She didn't have to be the Colonel. The feeling was liberating.
For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, Sam startled awake. Immediately, she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. It reverberated in the walls of the cave.
Jolting upright, Sam untangled herself and quickly checked that David was still next to her. In the light coming from a dying fire nearby, she saw him stirring beneath the blankets, but still asleep.
The gunfire continued. Short bursts, but steady. Not frantic. Controlled. But they didn't relent either.
"Sarah." Sam shook the woman next to her, her mind already working hard. "Thomas. Wake up."
"What's going-" Dr Matthews's voice broke off as he too heard the gunfire. He immediately jolted up, eyes on the dark tunnel leading from the cave to the outside.
"Get up," Sam said, already on her knees and pulling her two bags of belongings onto her back. "Wake people up. Get them ready, but be calm. We might have to move out."
All around them in the large cave, people stirred as Sam, Sarah and Dr Matthews began to move around. A baby began to cry in the corner, waking his mother, and two more children chimed in. Sam couldn't help worry that the sound might travel outside.
Sam was halfway through her warning trip when Ronon came running through the tunnel. Gunfire still sounded outside, but the control was weakening. It was growing more frantic.
She approached Ronon quickly. "Wraith?"
Ronon nodded, eying the bustle of motion in the cave. "We killed four, but there's more coming. You need to get out now."
Sam looked up sharply, not missing his inflection. "What about you?"
"Distraction," he said simply, his dark eyes fiery. Ronon held out one of his energy magnum weapons, the blue light indicating its stun function was turned on. "You know how to use it."
Sam took it, the weight heavy but familiar in her hand. He'd taught her how to use it years ago. She gave Ronon a hard look. It'd be pointless to tell him or the Marines not to do it. This was about survival. Sacrificing the few to save the many. But irrationally, Sam struggled to accept it. It was too soon. She'd just lost John, she couldn't…
Her eyes burned unexpectedly.
"Mommy?" David's voice was shaking, on the brink of crying. He sat with the blankets pooled around him, eyes searching the cave, oblivious to Sarah's attempts at comforting him.
Ronon put his hand on Sam's shoulder. She gave him a tremulous stare and squeezed his hand.
"Get going," Ronon said lowly. "We've got your six."
With that, he turned and navigated through the crowd to reach the tunnel that led outside. Sam was left to stare after him, seeing the familiar dreadlocks tower above all other heads, then disappear around a corner.
When she blinked back tears, she realised everyone in the crowd was looking at her. Expecting her to lead. Tightening her grip on Ronon's gun, Sam said tonelessly, "Get to the escape tunnels."
"Starting early is good."
Ronon's sudden voice made Sam look up from where she sat writing down equations in the dirt with a stick. She followed his gaze to see David and John locked in a game of tag. The three-year-old was chasing John and almost touched the back of his father's trousers, then laughed out loud when John skipped sideways and made an extravagant whirl to a safe distance.
"You mean playing?" Sam asked, smiling at the sight. It always filled her with the warm fuzzies.
"Training," said Ronon. Startled, Sam looked at him. "On Sateda, children began to train at age four. This 'game', as you call it, hones their hunting skills. The Athosians have something similar."
Sam hadn't thought of it that way. She frowned as she watched John let himself be tagged, and then made a big show of how he was now going to catch David. The boy squealed in exhilarated fright and took off around the corner of a nearby cabin. The thought of her son training rather than playing worried her.
"It's not a conscious choice," Sam said eventually. "On most places on Earth, we don't train our children with the intention that they will one day be forced to fight for their lives, or to secure food. Our society's safe enough that they don't need to worry about that. They can just play."
"Well, this isn't Earth," Ronon said simply.
He wasn't being malicious; Sam knew that. From the moment they'd landed on this planet, she'd known things would be different. Their children would face a far less secure future than they would on Earth, or even Atlantis. Conditions had changed. They lived and fought to survive. While Sam probably wouldn't let this simpler life stop her from teaching David or the other children about maths, science or Earth history, she knew they would need a different skillset than their parents.
But the thought of something as innocent as a game of tag being a way to train hunting or evasion skills...it didn't sit right with her. Children should be happy. Children should be safe. Children shouldn't have to worry about food, water or shelter.
"You're probably right," Sam said lowly, looking up as David and John came around the opposite corner of the cabin they'd disappeared behind, the former still squealing with laughter. She managed to find her smile again at the look of pure bliss on David's face. "But I wouldn't mind pretending it's just a game. There'll be time for training. Someday. For now, we're here. We'll protect them."
She knew Ronon probably disagreed, but watching John finally grab David around the middle and flip him up into the air, his baritone chuckles joining David's high-pitched laughter, she didn't care. This was worth it. They'd seen so much, done so many terrible things. Their own innocence had been lost decades ago. The children were still pure, and Sam would cross hell and high waters to ensure that David wouldn't lose that sooner than he had to.
There was still time.
At first, she didn't understand the sudden pandemonium of panic. Sam pushed through the crowd going in the opposite direction, her fingers wound tightly around Ronon's gun. Then, in the flickering light coming from the torches fastened to the tunnel wall, the cause became apparent.
"No!"
Sam's voice broke as she halted, the others still pushing frantically past her in the narrow mining tunnel. Only a few metres behind them, Levin was being reduced to a white-haired husk in front of her eyes. Her five-year-old son Evan shrieked at the top of his voice, red-faced, clawing at the arm that was attached to his mother's chest, banging at it with his small fists.
The Wraith Commander barred his teeth like a feral grin.
Then a red bolt of energy hit him straight in the face. The grin dropped, but the Wraith was still standing. He yanked Evan off his arm and flung him sideways, turning to Sam, eyes narrowed.
Sam pulled the trigger on Ronon's gun once, twice, sending off red-hot bolts of energy with a yell. It hit the Wraith squarely in the chest and neck, making the Commander stumble forward.
But he kept coming. With a roar that tore through her mind, the Wraith surged forward, feeding arm outstretched.
Sam didn't think. She sent off two more shots, ducking underneath the outstretched arm, and then elbowed the Wraith in the neck as he staggered from the shots. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as the Wraith turned, swinging a clawed hand aimed for her face. She jerked back, ignoring the needles of pain shooting up her left leg as her weight pushed down on it.
The gun was torn from her hand. Sam flung herself down and rolled, in the process finding the knife she kept with her at all times. With a yell, she jabbed it into the Wraith's calf, quickly scrambling to her feet as he roared in pain.
Using the distraction, she looked for the gun and found it near the tunnel wall. She'd nearly caught it when a hand gripped her ankle and yanked her back. The Wraith twisted her leg, inducing white-hot pain that threatened to black her out. Sam reacted instinctively, kicking her other leg with force against the Wraith's stomach.
The grip dropped as the Wraith grunted and reeled backwards. Sam quickly clambered for the gun and twisted sideways just as the Wraith's feeding hand came crashing down. It hit the ground instead, giving her time to roll over and then plant the gun an inch from the Wraith Commander's face.
She pulled the trigger. The Wraith's face snapped sideways, then his body crashed into the ground. Sam pushed away from him with her legs and fired off another two shots in the process. The Wraith jerked, but didn't move again.
For a long while, Sam lay panting on the ground, gun still aimed at the motionless Wraith. Then, gradually, her surroundings came back into focus. She heard Evan's cries, mingled with David's, who was somewhere ahead of her in the tunnel. There were sounds of shuffling, and then Dr Matthews pushed through the lingering crowd to crouch next to her.
"Colonel, are you alright?"
His eyes went up and down her body, landing on her twisted left leg. Sam grimaced, adrenaline still numbing most of the pain. Her head was filled with children's cries.
"Where's David?" she asked, sitting up. She tested her leg gently; she could still move it. Nothing seemed broken or torn. It'd just reacted to the abnormal twist.
"With Sarah. He's okay," Dr Matthews said.
He checked her leg too with expert motions, making sure there was nothing wrong. Then he sat back on his knees and looked over at the crying boy still clinging to his mother's husk. One of the others was already approaching him, trying to remove him gently from Levin's body, but the boy refused.
Sam's insides twisted. Evan's dad - Hutchinson - had been with the Marines in the colony safeguarding their escape. He'd never reached the forest. For all they knew, Evan was now an orphan.
Later, when David was once more secure in her arms and they were hurrying through the mining tunnels to the cool outside, Sam couldn't help think she'd almost made her son an orphan too.
"I could've died," Sam said quietly. She lay in the bed that John had moved into the living room, watching him pace in front of the blazing fireplace with baby David in his arms. Even a month after her Caesarean, she still felt incredibly weak. Like almost all the life had drained out of her.
John looked up, a dark frown on his face. "I don't need reminding, Sam. I was here."
Sam sighed. "I know, it's just… It made me realise that there are some things we'll never have that we used to have. Medicine, technology: things we've depended on to save our lives in the past. Dying in childbirth is something I imagined only happened in the third world or before the 20th century. Not…"
"Yeah, but you made it," John said firmly. He stepped closer, his voice softening as he rocked a mewling David. "Look, we knew we were gonna have lousy odds on this planet compared to Earth or Atlantis, but we're still from the 21st century. We know a lot more that can save our lives today. You're living proof of that."
Sam managed a small smile. "Even so, you gotta admit we're way beyond the definition of 'roughing it'."
"No doubt." John walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, tilting his arms so Sam could see the tiny face wrapped up in the bundle of furs. A smile played on his lips. "But look at this guy. I don't think he'll mind growing up here."
Sam stroked David's nose with the tip of her finger, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I guess not. Can't miss what you don't have, right?"
"Right on." John smirked, then panicked a little when David started to squirm; his tiny face scrunched up in what they'd learned was his warning of a pre-crying fit. "And that's your cue, Mama Bear. You've got something he misses, and he ain't getting it from me."
Sam chuckled and accepted David in her arms. As she nursed him, she saw John stare mesmerised at them, his eyes filled with indescribable emotion. And she knew. If something should happen again, she'd do whatever she could to make sure their son would always have his mommy. They both would.
The beasts were nearby. Maybe just yards away. Or it could be the Wraith; Sam didn't dare take the chance to look outside the fissure. But she could hear movement. She could hear the savage breaths in the darkness, and they weren't human.
The rock was cold and ice threatened to set in her bones from hours of disuse, but Sam didn't have a choice. She pushed as far as she could into the fissure, held David tight against her chest, and let the tears run silently down her cheeks as she listened intently.
There were cracks in the distance from twigs being snapped. Sam tightened her hold, making David squirm uncomfortably in protest.
"Shh," Sam mumbled beneath her breath, almost not daring to breathe.
David seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation. He stopped squirming, but turned his head so he could stare out through the fissure. His breaths were quick and warm against Sam's neck, but he didn't say a word. The action made Sam's insides twist and churn, making more tears run down her cheek.
He's too young for this.
The survivors had split up after they exited the escape tunnels in the hopes that it'd be harder for the Wraith to detect them. Finding a few thermal life signs was by far more difficult than finding a group of forty people that stuck together. The weapons that were left had been divided between the smaller groups, and everyone had been aware that finding somewhere to hide was the best course of action for the time being. They couldn't outrun the Wraith forever.
Sam and David had trailed north with Sarah, Dr Matthews and Rosemary along the mountain ridge, drawing farther and farther from the known area around the colony. From John's hunting stories, Sam had known there were plenty of caves in these mountains - but there were also an equal number of nocturnal carnivores, some as large as a grizzly bear.
When night fell upon them again, they'd found an area with several fissures in the rock wall. It was the best they could do. Sam and David snuggled up in one, while the Matthews family found a larger one that could hold them all.
But Sam didn't dare sleep. The forest beyond the mountain had been alive with sounds. She'd heard the howls of the beasts that'd hounded the colony in the past year as they called to each other. She'd known that they, like the Wraith, were able to detect thermal signatures, and that they wouldn't hesitate to kill if given the chance. That's how they'd lost three hunters last year.
As she listened now to the cracks and breaths drawing nearer, Sam squeezed her fingers around Ronon's gun and focused on anything but the boy burrowing his head into her neck. For a moment, her head was filled with the memory of the Kull warrior who'd hunted her so many years ago. The feeling was the same now as then, except this time it wasn't just her life on the stake.
A sudden howl made Sam jump, clenching David's body to her own, and she raised her - Ronon's - gun towards the opening of the fissure. Her heart beat wildly. The beast couldn't be more than yards away. It could probably smell them and was calling to the others.
David still didn't say a word. His fingers gripped the front of Sam's shirt, threatening to shake Sam out of her military detachedness.
She held the gun more firmly.
The howl stopped. For a second, it hung in the air like an echo, and then another howl pierced the night in the distance. It was more muted, but it caused the beast lurking outside to suddenly take off.
Holding her breath, Sam listened as the beast ran away, tearing through the undergrowth of the forest outside with loud cracks. Only when there was complete silence did she dare let out her breath.
"Is it gone?" David whispered, still calm against her chest.
Immense relief washed over Sam and she managed a smile. "Yes. It's gone."
But she couldn't help wonder who else had been found in the forest and had become the beasts' prey instead of them. She hoped that it was just an animal. She wasn't sure if she could handle more losses.
Sam sat in the opening to the wreck of Daedalus, wrapped in furs, staring at the field of graves in the distance. There were so many of them. Row upon row, the graves held two or three people at once.
No one had liked the idea of mass graves, but the ground was too hard and ice-packed to make one grave for each of the nearly two hundred fatalities before the bodies rotted. In the end, it'd been John's decision.
He was out there now with Ronon, making another grave with scraps of metal they used as spades. Her heart twisted with each thud of the makeshift spades, and she knew she'd see pain in John's eyes again when he returned, sitting silently beside her in the twilight as he did every night.
He'd changed. They all had. Sam didn't know what was worse, to see the hopelessness and defeat in the faces around her or to feel it slowly creeping into her own. When she woke up from her coma, this wasn't what she'd expected. The last thing she could remember was that they broke off the attack on Asuras. Beyond that, she was blank. Dr Matthews said it was because of the concussion, that the memories might come back, but Sam wasn't sure if she wanted to remember. Who would want to remember their utter defeat, the lives that had been lost before their very eyes?
John told her she'd ensured that the Daedalus didn't crash into the system's sun, managing to steer them to this planet instead, but it sounded as if someone else had done it. Maybe Rodney, who'd died not four yards away from her, crushed under a collapsed ceiling. How she'd managed to get under the console that saved her life from the collapsed ceiling, she didn't know. Had she done it herself, or had Rodney pushed her there?
There was so much she didn't know. One minute, she'd been in Engineering on Daedalus, the next she'd woken up and the whole world had changed. Rodney was dead, so was Novak, Caldwell, Marks, Cooper and countless others that she knew by name. So many dead… and for what? They didn't know what happened to the Asurans, to the Wraith, or to Atlantis and the Athosians. No one had come for them. With the homing beacon destroyed, how could they know they were even alive? And if she'd tried to save herself instead of Rodney, she couldn't - wouldn't - forgive herself. She'd rather be dead.
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as the last thought crashed through her mind, and she squeezed them tightly shut, feeling as if she'd fallen into a dark hole with no bottom. Silent sobs racked her body as she floundered in the darkness, and she lost track of time.
When a hand was put on her shoulder, Sam jumped, sending waves of pain up her broken leg and arm.
"Sorry." John's voice was toneless. She looked up to see he'd sat down next to her, his hand moving awkwardly away from her shoulder. The tough façade he'd put on his face these days betrayed nothing.
He looked away and Sam followed his gaze. Ronon and a couple of Marines were shovelling dirt back into the shallow grave they'd dug, then added a pile of rocks on top.
Fresh tears ran down Sam's cheeks. A sudden urge to speak made her blurt out, "He was in the bed next to me. His name was Fabian. He was assigned to the Apollo. He…he told me he didn't want to die. I held his hand and told him he wouldn't. Then he was gone."
John glanced at her once beneath furrowed eyebrows, his features cut in stone, but he remained silent. Perhaps stories like hers were commonplace now. So many had died while she was in a coma. Why did it have to be so much death? Why now? What was the point?
"He shouldn't have died," said Sam, her throat thick and sore, not caring if she was coming apart right in front of her 2IC. The tears burned on her cold cheeks. "None of them should."
"It's war," John said lowly. "We can't predict what'll happen. This time, we caught the losing hand."
"But our intel was good," Sam said, shaking her head, clutching the furs close to her frozen body. "By all accounts, we should've caught them pants-down. Why…?"
She broke off, reaching up with her healthy hand to cover her eyes. They burned like fire against the cold. In her mind's eye, she could see Rodney's animated face as they spoke about the finishing touches to their plan in the Atlantis conference room. Could see the approving nods from Caldwell and Ellis, the acceptance from Teyla and Ronon, and John…
"Stop," John said suddenly, his voice gruff. "It's not your fault. The replicators did this. They're to blame. It's solely on their shoulders. Not ours."
Sam opened her eyes. John still stared at Ronon and the Marines in the field of graves, but something had slipped past his stony façade. There was incredible, indescribable pain in his eyes despite the bitterness in his voice. They seemed to shimmer with unshed tears.
Her heart broke. Without thinking, Sam reached out and put her good hand on John's arm. He startled a little, his stony mask sliding back into place, but Sam didn't let go. She squeezed his arm and met his eyes, trying to muster the words that struggled inside her chest.
But the words didn't - couldn't - come, and so their eyes spoke instead. Anger, remorse, grief, hopelessness, defeat; they all played in their eyes. But no hope. There could be no hope when their friends were dead and their own future was so uncertain.
Not now, but one day. Perhaps one day soon.
In the meantime, Sam didn't let go of John's arm. And, eventually, his hand reached up to cover hers, and words were unnecessary. Because, how could you put words on something so profound, something so great, and something so terrible? For now, their proximity was enough. They could grieve together. They could be angry together. They could - one day, hopefully - go forward together.
It would have to be enough. For now.
After the sleepless night in the fissures, Sam, David and the Matthews family trailed further north until they found another small system of caves. There was no escape tunnel this time, but it was shelter and more defensible than the fissures.
They stayed there for a week. For the first couple of nights, Sam insisted on taking large parts of the night shift, as none of the others had any combat experience. She couldn't sleep anyhow. Neither Dr Matthews nor Sarah could convince her otherwise, so Sam found herself staring out of the cave entrance in the early hours of the morning as rain poured down by the bucket load, feeling her mood shift with the weather.
The rain season had begun. In a month's time, winter would be upon them. Their hopes right now were that the Wraith had left and that most of the colony was salvageable. Otherwise, they'd have to live out of these caves until spring. There was nowhere else.
It pained Sam to see the drawn and worn faces again in Dr Matthews and Sarah as the days wore on, and to know that it was reflected it her own. Despite her vow to move on, she couldn't help the sense of hopelessness, grief, shock, anger, and of all those emotions that threatened to consume her from within.
John standing out in the field, alone, arms outstretched and muzzle flashes lighting up his face; the image was burned into her retinae. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. John's face turned towards her, his dark eyes glittering in the darkness, his skin pale from the approaching beam's light, his mouth open as if to scream…
"Sam."
Sam startled as Sarah laid a blanket around her shoulders. The other woman smiled and sat down next to her in the cave entrance, the foggy morning light casting a pale and cold colour across her features.
"It's growing colder. You shouldn't sit here all night. I'll take this watch."
"I'm okay," Sam said dismissively, but she pulled the blanket closer and gave Sarah a small smile. "Thanks."
Sarah shrugged. "I worry about you, Sam. You don't sleep and you don't eat."
"I'm not that hungry," Sam said, looking back out at the pouring rain.
"Don't try to fool me, Sam. I know you too well." Sarah grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I understand you're being brave for David, but you can't keep it all bottled up. It'll consume you. John wouldn't want you to-"
"John's gone, Sarah." Sam's tone was fierce and bitter. "He's gone, Levin's gone, Ronon's gone… Everybody's gone. It's just us."
Sarah's large doe-like eyes understood too much. Sam couldn't face her, so she wrenched her head away and fixed her eyes upon a clutter of bushes down at the treeline, clutching Ronon's gun tightly in her hand.
"We'll survive," Sam said eventually, her words hollow, "but it's just us now. I don't think those who were taken will come back from this. They're probably already dead. The Wraith don't always wait to feed, especially if the Asurans are continuing to starve them by attacking human planets."
"Sam…" Sarah's grip on Sam's hand tightened. "Listen to me, please. I know the odds and the facts, but John's always beaten the odds before. How many times hasn't he found a way out of Wraith captivity? He'll come back to you. He loves you, Sam. And he'd never leave David without his dad."
"He knew I wouldn't make it to the treeline in time, so he made himself a target," Sam said, her throat constricting. Her next words came out in a hoarse whisper. "I don't think he's coming back this time. I don't think he meant to."
"Don't say that!" Sarah raised her voice abruptly, adding firmly, "You once told me the future's not set in stone, that anything can happen. If not in this reality or dimension or whatever, then in another."
"That doesn't exactly encourage me," Sam said mirthlessly. Sarah almost rolled her eyes in exasperation, knowing full well that Sam wasn't so obtuse that she didn't understand where Sarah was going with this.
"What I mean,"Sarah said, giving Sam a little glare as if annoyed that she had to explain herself,"is that if John can die in another reality, he can live in this one. So don't give up. You gave me hope once that we'd get through the crash, the death of our friends, the first winter, and the fact that we might never get back to Earth again. So now I'm telling you, don't lose hope. Please, Sam."
Sam didn't reply. She stared out the entrance at the fog-covered forest below them, the last moment she saw John playing in her mind. For the past five days, she'd tried to work out what he'd said to her before the beam caught him, but she was still clueless. She'd never been a good lip-reader.
"I'm not sure how to go on, Sarah…" Sam said finally, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. Her chest began to shake in restrained sobs. She didn't meet her friend's eyes, but Sarah's hand tightened around hers.
"He should be here. He told me he'd be here. I can't go through this again. Not alone."
As Sam lapsed into silence, a million thoughts running through her mind, she could see Sarah surveying her quietly in the corner of her eye. Her friend's voice was solemn when she stated, "You're pregnant, aren't you?"
Sam's eyed widened and she whirled around. "How did-"
"I'm the village's unofficial midwife," Sarah said, smiling a little. "I recognise the signs. You've been throwing up in the evenings. Just like you did when you were expecting David. And you can't stand the smell of cooking gindrake roots. Frankly, I expected you to tell me sooner." Her eyes softened as she squeezed Sam's hand. "So John knew?"
Sam sighed, staring at Sarah's hand upon hers, feeling no urge to remove it. "He suspected. Said he recognised the signs too." A fresh bout of tears ran down her face. "I don't know what to do, Sarah. What do I do?"
"You move on," Sarah said matter-of-factly. "Like we did seven years ago. We pick ourselves up and we move on. You'll start to eat and sleep again, and you'll take care of yourself, your son and your baby, and you'll wait, because John will come back. I know he will. Whatever happened to him, he'll return, and you better be in shape when he does or he'll give me hell."
Despite it all, Sam chuckled, and it felt - for the tiniest moment - good.
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