To Find Our Way (1/1)
Title: To Find Our Way
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Characters: Samantha Carter, John Sheppard
Word Count: 7180
Rating: T
Spoilers: Stargate SG-1, season 8; Stargate Atlantis, season 2.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Stargate characters or the universe. It belongs to MGM and the Sci-Fi channel.
First published: October 20, 2014 on AO3 and FF.net.
Summary: "When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The room she was in was neither the Air Force hospital in Colorado Springs nor the SGC infirmary. It wasn’t of Goa’uld design either. The closest she could describe it to was the Antarctica base, which meant…Atlantis."
AU from SG-1 8x16: "Reckoning". Anubis succeeds with his plan to control the device on Dakara, changing the face of the Milky Way, but Pegasus and Atlantis survives. So does the people the SGC managed to evacuate to Atlantis, including an injured Sam. Now she must find a way to move on...with a little help.
Written for apocalypse_kree 2014. Prompt: 204. Carter/Sheppard. “I want you here. I don't care if it's a hundred degrees and every blade of grass dies. Without you, none of that matters to me.” ― Kami Garcia
TO FIND OUR WAY
ONE
Sam ran through the forest. Branches and twigs whipped in her face as she pushed through the undergrowth. Her muscles trembled from exertion, and her lungs constricted with each staggering step.
A red bolt shot past her, digging into a tree trunk to her left. She didn’t pause to look back. If she did, she’d only see the Kull Warrior again. Tall, dark, relentless, and packing enough weapons to blast her to hell and back. Instead, she picked up the pace.
Keep moving. Don’t stop. Don’t stop now.
“Uh!”
Her pants snagged on a protruding branch, causing her to lurch forward. It took precious time to roll over and yank herself free. The pants wouldn’t come loose. She tugged her leg back and forth until the cameo-coloured material tore. Pain shot down her thigh and she gritted her teeth.
Another red bolt hit the ground next to her head.
Damnit, Carter! Get your ass moving!
She got to her feet and ran. The forest thickened around her. Its green walls seemed to close in on her. She heaved for breath. Her whole body ached; her head throbbed, and her blood roared in her ears.
You’re almost there. Keep going!
Suddenly, a stream of light flashed in her eyes. She blinked, paused for a second, and the third bolt hit her straight in the left shoulder.
“Agh!”
Pain exploded outwards. A searing, burning kind of pain that she’d felt before, and yet not. She clutched her left arm tightly, her teeth gritted, and willed the pain away.
The bushes behind her stirred and she stared straight into the dark, lifeless eyes of the Kull Warrior. It raised its arm, the energy weapon pointed between her eyes.
Sam rolled as the fourth and fifth shot fired. She felt the hot air above her head and continued to roll. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The pain was momentarily forgotten. She had to get out of there.
You’ve got to survive this! They’re looking for you.
She rolled through a bush and suddenly dropped. A long, rocky hill descended beneath her, making her roll faster and faster until her head spun. She crashed into something hard and jagged at the bottom, and cried out in pain. Stars appeared before her eyes as she opened them.
Far up above her on the top of the hill, the Kull Warrior looked down, its weapon still trained at her. It took a heartbeat to fire the sixth shot.
This time, there was no Colonel O’Neill to save her. The Kull Warrior didn’t miss. Her vision went completely dark.
When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The room she was in was neither the Air Force hospital in Colorado Springs nor the SGC infirmary. It wasn’t of Goa’uld design either. The closest she could describe it to was the Antarctica base, which meant…
“Colonel Carter.” A dark-haired woman stepped into her line of sight.
“Dr Weir?” Sam’s voice croaked, dry and parched. She grimaced and tried to move, but Weir held her down and offered her a cup of water with a straw in it. She drank, the liquid cool in her throat, and sank back in the bed, feeling exhausted. “Where am I?”
“Atlantis,” Weir said, putting the cup back on a bedside table. She looked anxious, tense, and worried. “You were shot, Colonel. You’ve been in a coma for two weeks.”
“Why am I here?” Sam’s eyes felt heavy. It was a struggle just to keep them open, but she couldn’t drift off yet. There was an air of foreboding about Dr Weir, who didn’t respond. Sam’s heart began to race. “Dr Weir? Why am I here?”
Eying the quickening heartbeat monitor, the other woman sighed. “You should get some rest, Colonel. Carson.”
Weir stepped back, gesturing to a man who appeared at Sam’s side immediately with a syringe. “This is just a little sedative,” the man explained, inserting the syringe into her IV. “You need to heal, Colonel.”
“No, I-I-“
But she was already drifting off into the darkness again.
Only when Carson deemed her ready did Weir tell Sam the truth. SG-1 was gone. Earth was gone. The Milky Way galaxy was gone. All that remained of the human race was here in Pegasus, far from the reaches of the Dakara device that Anubis had used to wipe out the rest. If it hadn’t been for a divine heads-up from Daniel, the SGC wouldn’t have been able to evacuate as many people to Atlantis as they had.
But even those remaining were in danger of disappearing now that a native enemy called the Wraith had been reawakened. Two of their ships were headed for Atlantis even now, a third having been taken down by a defence satellite the day before.
It was too much for Sam to take in. She stared blankly at Weir, the enormity of it all diminished to something specific she could handle. “What will you do?”
Weir gave a tense smile. “Before the connection to the SGC was cut, they managed to ship out a few more companies of soldiers. They’ve brought railguns and ammunition to hold the Wraith off until the Prometheus and Daedalus show up with the ZPM, along with the SGC’s entire stock of emergency supplies.” She paused. “I’m hopeful we’ll live through this.”
As it turned out, they did, by a hair’s breadth.
But it didn’t change the fact that their friends and family were still dead in a galaxy they would no longer recognise if they returned. Lying in her infirmary bed during the siege of Atlantis, Sam realised that for the first time in her life, she was truly alone.
She was angry. It was easy to spot. These days, John saw it everywhere. Even two months after That Day, he got reports of people who suddenly burst into fits of physical violence. Some of them attacked others. Others attacked the walls, the shooting targets, the Wraith…
Samantha Carter attacked that punching bag like there was no tomorrow. She came to the gym at least three times a day since she’d been released from the infirmary, with one session at night when everyone else had gone to bed.
It’d been mere chance that John discovered this. He’d had one of his usual sleepless nights and decided to go for a run around the city. The trek had taken him past the gym, where the sounds of someone yelling had drawn his attention. When he peeked inside the gym, Carter was kicking the bag, red-faced and yelling.
He’d been about to talk to her when she’d suddenly dropped to her knees, gloved hands over her face, her yells turning into sobs. Stunned, John hadn’t moved from his spot for a long while, not until her sobs had turned into new yells and new energy.
That night, he’d left her alone. But something in him had changed when he realised that the famous Carter of SG-1 that Rodney went on about was just as human as everyone else.
Tonight, he’d made a choice.
“Can’t sleep either?” John crossed the threshold of the gym and dropped his gym bag on the floor with a loud racket.
Wide-eyed and panting from her exertion, Carter startled and spun around. It took a moment before she relaxed a fraction and shook her head. “Too wired.”
She turned back to the punching bag, but her jabs seemed a little less forceful and more conscious of his presence. Like she was holding back, hiding.
“Mind if I join you?” John asked, stepping closer.
She looked at him across her shoulder, sizing him up and down, before she nodded and stepped back, letting him hold the punching bag still. Once he gave the signal, she began to attack it once more.
John oomphed as the bag reverberated with the force of her punch. “Man, you’ve got a mean left.”
It didn’t award him a smile like he’d hoped. Her eyes were dead set on the bag, making John hold back a sigh. He let her have at it for a couple of minutes, staying quiet but observant. Eventually, he said, “You need to move your feet more. You’re too heavy on your left.”
Carter blew a hard breath but, surprisingly, did as he said without any comment. That action made John smile inwardly.
It became a routine. At nights, John showed up and held that bag for her. No one knew. During the day, they barely interacted. They passed each other in the hallways, sat on opposite sides of the mess hall, and stuck to polite nods.
He didn’t know exactly why they did it, keeping it a secret, but it felt like he’d sworn a sacred oath that first night he’d stepped into the gym after seeing her break down. Whatever happened in there stayed there. It seemed like she knew that too.
Soon, John stopped simply holding the punching bag. At the end of the first week, they’d started trading blows, skipping around each other and testing each other’s guards. There were no mentions of ranks beyond an occasional taunt or tease thrown into the trash talk, just a shared desire to march on and to forget the world for a moment.
By the second week, Carter had become more nimble on her feet. The first time she managed to knock him on his ass, she almost grinned and a shadow seemed to have lifted from her eyes. John took that as a victory and ignored his bruised ego. After all, she had a wonderful smile. Infectious and brilliant.
As the workouts continued, he aimed to bring out that smile of hers as often as he could. He was partly successful. When she didn’t let herself relinquish her airtight control, she was fiercer than before. Like she was punishing herself. A feeling John recognised all too well…
He’d let his mate down in Afghanistan. He’d awakened the Wraith. He’d killed Sumner. Friendly fire had gained an entirely new meaning for him. He’d sworn it wouldn’t happen again. And then there was Aidan Ford, who he’d failed miserably…
Seeing Carter at her fiercest only made John want to do something good for a change. If he could help her, then maybe… Maybe he could get rid of that hollow feeling in his chest.
Sometime during the fourth week of their nightly workouts, John suggested she try her hand with the Athosian bantos rods.
“Bantos rods?” Carter asked, bringing a towel up to wipe the sweat off her face and neck. She wore only a tank top and shorts, revealing the still-healing, star-shaped scar on her chest where the Kull Warrior had hit her. The sight always made John uneasy.
“Athosian style-fighting. Teyla introduced them.” John went over to one of the racks in the gym and picked up a pair, then showed them to her.
Carter froze. A flash of pain rushed through her eyes.
“What?” John asked, frowning. He recognised that look. Sometimes during the day, when she didn’t know he saw her standing alone on one of the balconies, he saw it on her face. “Worked with them before?”
“No,” Carter said quickly, turning away. She flung her towel on top of the rest of her things. “Just...” She sighed and started to pack up her stuff. “It’s nothing. But I think it’s time for bed. Got a meeting with Caldwell early in the morning.”
A little put down, John returned the bantos rods to the rack and turned back to see Carter pulling on an Air Force PT sweater. “You thinking of joining Daedalus?”
“Maybe,” Carter said without looking at him.
“You don’t miss being on a team?” John watched her, tense, knowing it was probably still touchy waters, but he really wanted to know. There’d been an idea niggling at the back of his mind for the past few weeks. “AR-3’s got an opening…”
“I-” Carter’s voice cut off thickly. Her head sank low. “…I can’t.”
“It’s okay. I get it.” John ran a hand awkwardly through his hair.
Slowly, Carter turned her head so that their eyes met. Hers were blank and vulnerable; something broke in him.
“You miss your team,” John said quietly, half-statement, half-question. He recalled that first night he’d found her here: a hotpot of anger, frustration and grief. Those feelings were still there beneath her surface, fully visible in her eyes; threatening to break through the wall she’d erected around herself.
Carter closed her teary eyes and turned away from him again. “I need to go. Good night, Sheppard.”
“John.”
She stopped and looked back at him, a myriad of emotions splayed across her face. John waited with bated breath, not taking his eyes off hers, hoping she understood what he was offering, hoping she wouldn’t reject it.
“Sam,” Carter said and left without another word.
She didn’t smile, but she didn’t need to; John’s own smirk was enough.
It felt like the start of something new. Something good.
TWO
“Hey, Sam. Back in town so soon?” Heading towards her in one of the busy hallways on Atlantis, dressed in his PT gear, John’s eyes twinkled. A tall, bearded and dreadlocked man followed in his wake, eying everyone slightly suspiciously. “This is Ronon, by the way.”
Bemused, Sam held out her hand to the new guy. “Samantha Carter.”
Ronon eyed her hand with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re supposed to shake it,” John muttered lowly, all the while smiling at Sam. “Earth custom. Remember we talked about working on your people skills?”
Ronon only snorted in derision and pushed past Sam without looking back. In his wake, John sighed.
“Sorry about that. He’s a little rusty.”
“No worries.” Sam’s lips twitched into a full-blown smile. Seeing the way John tilted his head awkwardly reminded her of how much she’d missed their workouts the past few months she’d been stationed on Daedalus. “It’s good to see you again, John.”
John’s eyes softened. “You too, Sam. When’re you headed out again?”
“Tomorrow. We’re stocking up and getting some minor repairs done. I got tonight off.” Sam blew a little annoyed breath. “Captain’s orders.”
“Good! You should come watch Ronon kick my ass,” John said, nodding in the direction the other man had gone. “He’s got a worse left hook than yours.”
Sam chuckled. “Sure.”
“Great.” John smiled. “Then afterwards you can join us for movie night. If you ask nicely, I’ll even bring the popcorn.”
Smirking, Sam hooked her arm in John’s. “I’m asking nicely.”
For a second, John tensed; then he gave her his familiar smirk and touched her hand with his. “Mess hall at 2100. I’ll save us some seats.”
He was able to make her forget.
Lying in her cot on Daedalus trying to relax, Sam couldn’t get that thought out of her head. John Sheppard knew how to make her forget about how her friends and family were dead, about her bottomless rage towards Anubis, and about that annoying little voice at the back of her head that whispered Pete and Jack’s names at night and called her traitor.
But every other day, he was sent out on missions off-world to face off with the Wraith, the Genii and whatever other bad guys there were in this corner of the universe. Sometimes, he sent her little messages about them in the weekly data burst to Daedalus. Just little reminders that he was risking his life and she couldn’t do anything to stop it:
- McKay still feels back that he almost destroyed an entire solar system with the two of us still in it. Think I’ll have to forgive him eventually, but not yet. Nice to have someone fetch me coffee for a while.
- Got turned into a bug hybrid today. Carson turned me back, though, so I’m all set for the next movie night.
And then there was the latest message, the one that’d been in her inbox after the data burst today…
- Just got back from my first meeting with a time dilation field. We’re the same age now. Biologically speaking. Think it’ll be some time before my head’s screwed on right again, though… When’s your next call to port?
Sam hadn’t sent a reply yet. There was an implication in John’s words that she didn’t know how to handle exactly, especially not in light of her own recent realisation:
In less than six months since That Day, John Sheppard had gotten under her skin, and she didn’t know whether she wanted him to stay there or not.
“Transport’s complete, ma’am .” Dr Novak reported over the speakers from down in Engineering. “ The last of the drones are safely stored in Hangar Bay Two.”
“Thank you, Lindsey.” Sam clicked off the radio on her armrest’s control panel. Turning towards the front of the bridge, she addressed Captains Kleinman and Meyers. “Set a course for Atlantis.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the two crewmen chorused. With a quick manoeuvre of their buttons, Daedalus spun around from the agrarian world beneath them and set off towards an opening hyperspace window.
As the ship soared ahead, Sam looked over the latest status reports on her chair’s small screen. She was lost in a long string of calculations when someone cleared his throat.
“Permission to enter the bridge, Colonel?”
Sam’s head spun up. John stood off to the side, dressed in his typical combat BDU, his weapons probably removed earlier by an SO. The ghost of a smirk crossed his lips.
Closing her open mouth, Sam said, “Permission granted, Major.”
Hands in his pockets, John stepped into the room, surveying everyone, who in return glanced curiously at him.
“Nice of you to stop by,” he said and stopped to lean against a protruding support beam. “Saves us from lugging all those drones on our own through the stargate. Thanks.”
Sam didn’t trust her own voice right then and simply nodded in reply.
“So, you just along for the ride, Major?” Kleinman voiced the question that was on her mind, for which Sam was grateful.
“I’ve stared at enough forests to last me a lifetime,” John said with feeling; Sam unwillingly smirked. “Not every day I get to watch this.” Pushing off the wall, John gestured to the view outside the bridge windows.
“I think I might’ve forgotten what a forest looks like,” Meyers intoned, to which many of the bridge crew chuckled. It certainly seemed to loosen up the earlier awkward atmosphere following John’s sudden arrival.
Sam, however, met John’s eyes and tensed. Catching a ride didn’t seem like his only agenda.
Despite her best efforts, John managed to catch her on her own in the end. In transit, she’d had good reason to stay busy on the bridge. Once they reached port above Atlantis, however, things got trickier. Sam had left a skeleton crew and then sent most of the crew on shore leave, but returned immediately herself after her briefing with Caldwell, who was stationed permanently on Atlantis now as the chief military leader.
Unable to relax, however, Sam trailed down to one of her usual haunts - Hangar Bay One - and began working on upgrading the software for one of the F-302s.
One minute, she was alone. The next, John climbed up into the co-pilot’s seat, causing Sam to jump in her seat. Her heart skipped at least three beats.
“Holy Hannah! You scared me.” Sinking back into the pilot’s seat, Sam tried to force her shoulders to relax. She failed.
“Well,” John began, “when Mohammed won’t come to the mountain…” He left the rest unsaid, but Sam got his point.
Realising she wasn’t going to get out of this, Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. So…what’s up, Sam? You got me worried.”
“It’s nothing,” Sam tried to say, but John saw right through her. With a prompt “Sam”, he called her bluff and Sam sighed again. “Fine. I’ve been busy, that’s all.”
“Avoiding me,” John said, and his voice sounded suddenly less sure and brash. Like he was vulnerable. Like she’d hurt him. Like the tough front John Sheppard put on was just that: a front to fool the eyes.
Tears sprung to Sam’s eyes and she was glad John couldn’t see it from this angle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just…” She hesitated, squeezing her eyes shut. A lump was forming in her throat.
“Y’know, it’s been weird getting back,” John said, changing the topic. “The last few months in that time dilation field…I almost forgot that Earth was gone. Then I get back to Atlantis and all the signs are there. People still grieving. The memorial wall…”
A sob threatened to bubble up through Sam’s thick throat. She swallowed hard, holding it at bay.
“What’s worse, I started thinking you guys had given up on me,” John continued, his voice softer. “Then Teer told me my friends were coming. Best day of my life.” He paused. “…I looked for you.”
But she hadn’t been there. Daedalus had been sent on a long-range reconnaissance mission three days previously. She hadn’t known, not until that data burst with his message in it. By then it was too late anyway. He’d already been saved.
“If I could’ve, I would’ve…” Sam began, but the words she wanted to say didn’t get past the lump in her throat.
“…Yeah, I know.” John’s voice was quiet, solemn. He sighed. “So, what’s really going on, Sam?”
The tears ran freely now. Sam couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop the choke in her voice, the inhuman gasp that escaped her lips. Silently, she began to cry, hunched over the F-302 controls.
Time lost meaning. Place lost meaning. As if standing outside her body, Sam sensed a pair of hands on her arm, nudging her up, and she followed. The next thing she knew, she was down on the deck and buried in strong arms, with a hand running up and down her back and someone muttering comforting whispers in her ear.
Slowly, she became aware that it was John. A small part of her brain reasoned that he was her subordinate and her instincts told her that this was far beyond the frat regs… But another part of her didn’t want to let go. She hadn’t been held like this for a long, long time. The last one had to be Pete, or maybe it was Jack… The memories were getting a little fuzzy.
It was the effect John had on her. Somehow, he helped her forget the things that made her hurt, if only for a little while. And that scared her.
When her cries eventually wound down and Sam gained more control of her body, she pushed away from John and wiped her nose of the sleeve of her jumpsuit. “I’m sorry, Major. You shouldn’t have had to see me like this.”
“Please don’t, Sam,” John said, his voice gaining a little edge to it. “Don’t push me away. Not now.” There was a pained note in his tone. “Look, I know that for you guys it was little more than a day, but for me it was almost a year.”
The obvious pain in him resonated deep within Sam, who faltered and felt her insides twist uneasily and painfully again.
But at the end of the day, Sam couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle the implications. Couldn’t handle feeling that horrible, terrible and bottomless agony again if something should happen on his next mission. The Black Widow had been burned too many times.
She turned back to John, who looked like a wounded dog: tense and vulnerable at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and fled.
THREE
There weren’t any new messages from John after that. Sam heard about the Genii’s coup d’état and the Wraith retrovirus research with Michael through the grapevine. She knew he’d have been involved, but she tried not to think too much about it. Whenever Daedalus made port, she made sure she never ventured near him if she could help it, but that was practically a lost cause. The dangers of Pegasus wouldn’t allow them that peace of mind.
When she finally talked to him again, it was over the ship’s speakers, and they strictly spoke about the options for transporting evacuees from Taranis. Then, later, about escorting the Ancient warship Orion. She didn’t see him until they were both back on Atlantis in the same debriefing with Caldwell and Weir.
For the whole meeting, he didn’t meet her eyes. His attention was solely on Weir and Caldwell, and soon their mission was overshadowed by the news that a sole Hive ship was on its way to Atlantis. It’d be there in three weeks. They had to prepare.
I’m a professional. I can do this.
The mantra ran through Sam’s mind whenever she found herself in conversation with John on the bridge of Daedalus. So far, she thought she’d handled herself well. No slip-ups, no inappropriate glances or comments, and still…
”Are we there yet?” John strode onto the bridge and approached her without a pause in his step. The moment he reached her, however, he turned to stare out through the bridge windows.
Sam raised an eyebrow. ”Do you have any idea how difficult these manoeuvres are gonna be?”
”I’m guessing… Really difficult.”
”We’re gonna be flying so close to that Hive ship, you’ll be able to reach out and touch it.” Sam paused, crossing her arms tightly. ”I don’t like this.”
”You and me both,” John said lowly.
”Coming out of hyperspace,” Kleinman reported.
Sam turned back towards the weapons officer. ”Get McKay on the radio. I wanna-”
The ship jolted. In the corner of her eye, Sam saw John sent reeling and crashing into the floor against a console. She barely managed to stay on her feet and threw herself into her chair just as the alarms went off.
”Shields to maximum!” she cried out.
”Decks one to seven in the forward section have decompressed and are venting atmosphere,” Kleinman continued to report, his eyes glued to his screen. To the side, John scrambled to his feet.
”Seal off those sections. Get a damage control team down there,” Sam ordered, holding on tightly to her chair as the ship jolted again with weapons impact.
”Who’s firing on us?” John asked.
”Two Hive ships bearing down on our position, sir,” Kleinman said. ”One of them is the friendly.”
Behind them at the science station, a console exploded. Debris flung through the air, almost hitting John in the head. Sam met his eyes, tense, awkward and feeling a tiny ounce of fear.
”I’d say not so friendly,” John said, his eyes becoming dark and smouldering.
He was right. The battle soon turned for the worse and all their good plans went down the drain in the typical SG-1 style. McKay and Ronon were trapped on the Wraith Hive ship. When John went out in an F-302 to disable the ship’s hyperdrive, Sam followed his progress with a tight grip on her armrest. Something tight coiled in her stomach when Kleinman finally reported that the shields were under twenty per cent.
”Major Sheppard, get your flight back to the ship. We need to jump out of here as soon as possible.”
John’s response sounded over the speakers. ”Two minutes. I can take down their hyperdrive.”
”Unless you can shut down their weapons, it’s not gonna do us a lot of good.” Only static met her response. ”Sheppard. Sheppard.” Slightly panicked, Sam looked at Kleinman.
”I’m not getting anything, ma’am,” he said, almost apologetically.
Sam stared at the battle outside. ”We can’t stay. Prepare to jump on my mark.”
”Ma’am!” Kleinman suddenly exclaimed. ”The Hives are opening hyperspace windows.”
Sam jumped to her feet and walked to the front of the bridge, staring out the windows as the two Wraith ships disappeared into hyperspace. ”Why the hell did they do that?”
”Three of our 302s are returning to Daedalus, ma’am,” Kleinman said, reading off the numbers on his screen.
Turning back, Sam’s voice was hopeful. ”Sheppard?”
”His fighter isn’t one of them. The only contacts I have on screen are…wreckage.”
Sam’s stomach plummeted. ”…What about his locator beacon?”
”No, nothing, ma’am.” Kleinman looked at her. ”He’s just gone.”
Slowly, Sam looked away into the dark space outside. The next few words tore her apart. ”Understood. Set a course for Atlantis.”
“I thought you died.”
John looked up from where he leaned against the railing of the balcony, the night calm and dark around him. In the doorway, Sam stood silhouetted against the light inside the gate room. Her voice sounded strangled.
“Got lucky,” John said, brushing it off. “The way I hear it, this wasn’t any different than some of the things your team experienced.”
“Daniel was the worst,” Sam said, stepping out onto the balcony. As she came into the light, John saw her eyes were red-shot and slightly unfocused. Her words were also kind of slurry. “I’ve lost count of how many times we thought he’d died. We actually cleaned out his apartment sev’ral times.”
“Are you drunk?” John asked, turning towards her fully with a worried look.
Sam waved a bottle so he could see. “Just a tiny bit.” She suddenly giggled, fumbling forward to slump against the railing. “Turns out I know a guy who knows a guy who makes moonshine out of those tava beans you get from the Athosians. ‘s not so bad once you get over the aftertaste.”
John took the bottle from her and poured out the contents. “This is stupid.”
“Hey!” Sam swiped at him angrily. “I wasn’t done with that!”
John pulled her arm. “You should go to bed. Sleep it off. People shouldn’t see you like this.”
“Fuck you.” Sam’s eyes glinted and she shook his hand off. A bit unsteadily, she stormed off towards the door.
Worried, John followed. Not wanting to cause a scene, he waited until Sam finally stumbled into a transporter and slipped inside before the door closed.
“Sam…”
“No,” she said promptly, holding up her palm and averting her eyes. “No. You-you don’t get t’ say anything. Just go play aroun’ with your new Wraith ship toy and leave me the hell alone.”
Turning, Sam attempted to press the button for the crew level where her visiting quarters were located, but she kept hitting it just a few millimetres off. Without warning, she punched the panel with her fist and John soared forward to stop her from continuing.
“Sam, stop, stop.” Grabbing both her hands, John tried to immobilise her, but she was struggling with unexpected strength against his hold. Annoyed, John shouted, “Stop it!”
Sam froze. Meeting his eyes, her lower lip trembled, her voice nothing more than a whisper. “Please don’t.”
‘Please go. Please don’t see me like this. Please don’t hate me.’
John didn’t know if what he saw in her eyes were true. He didn’t know if his mind were playing tricks on him, trying to reveal something that wasn’t there. After all, the last time he’d seen those eyes had been in Daedalus’ hangar bay after he’d escaped the time dilation field, and she’d pushed him away. She’d rejected him. He’d never imagined how much that’d hurt. He’d been caught off guard by the strength of his own feelings.
But today she mourned you. She lost her precious control for the thought of you dead. She’s a mess because of you.
“Sam…” John’s voice was pained, tinged with frustration and sorrow both. “I… I’m confused.”
Releasing her hands, he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, eyes on his feet. When he finally looked up, Sam was crying, the tears flowing freely down the length of her cheeks to the tip of her chin. Ever so slowly, she was sinking down to floor, her hands reaching up to cover her face as raw sobs tore from her throat.
Something clicked inside him.
Kneeling down, John pulled her into a tight hug and felt her unexpected strength again in the grip in which she enveloped him. Her nails dug into his back and her face buried into his shirt. He could already feel the humidity of her tears soaking through the fabric; could feel the tension of her throat as she tried to suppress her cries but were unsuccessful.
And all he could think of was that she was breaking down in his arms and they were in a goddamned transporter.
With a free hand, John reached up to press the button for the crew level. As the light blinked, he kissed the top of her head and spoke softly into her hair. “Let’s go somewhere private.”
The sun was glaring into her eyes when she woke, inflaming her aching head and her nausea. Cursing, Sam rolled away from the light…and stopped when her hands found bare flesh next to her.
Her eyes blinked rapidly, her mind awake in an instant. It didn’t take her long to connect the dots. The strong back faced towards her ended on top with a black, unruly mop of hair that could only belong to one person.
Holy Hannah.
Stunned, she looked around and spotted the Johnny Cash posted taped to the wall. There was a guitar leaning against the wall and furniture covered in clothes. At a second glance, Sam recognised half of them as her own clothes. But she was thankful to see that she was still wearing her tank top and boxers. Well, ‘still’ as far as she knew. Last night was just a big haze. Who could say if her underwear had been worn at all times? Maybe she’d put them back on after-
Then John stirred and Sam froze. He turned around and blinked his eyes blearily at her. “You okay? What time is it?”
“Um…” Not knowing what else to do, Sam looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Ugh, it’s 04:23.”
“That’s way too early to be awake.” Groaning, John closed his eyes and shifted into a more comfortable position on his stomach. “Go back to sleep.”
With the bed no wider than 120 cm, Sam realised she couldn’t lie down without some sort of physical contact. So she remained propped up on her elbow, balancing on the edge of the mattress.
Eventually, John cocked an eye open again. “You need to be sick? There’s a bucket next to you.”
Actually, she was feeling nauseous, but she wasn’t sure how much of it could be attributed to the booze she’d consumed yesterday. “John. Why are we in bed together?”
“Oh.” Wincing, John propped up on his elbows. “You were hammered. Completely. My place was closer than yours.” He gestured to the rest of his quarters. “As you can see, there isn’t a whole lot of space to sleep on, so we decided to share.” He held up his palms. “Nothing happened.”
“Did I pass out so that you had to take my clothes off?”
“No. You managed that on your own.” Rubbing his face, John yawned and ran a quick hand through his hair. “I just picked up your clothes from the floor and put them away.”
“Oh.”
John sighed. “Look. You had a rough time last night. You need sleep, especially if you’re supposed to head out again in the morning. Can I suggest we just lie down and try to do that?”
“Uh, yeah, okay.” Now that he mentioned it, Sam could feel the ache deep in her bones telling her she’d failed to meet her required sleep quota. Her body sank down into the mattress of its own accord and she shifted so that she was lying on her side but not on the edge of the bed.
As John slipped off to sleep rather easily, however, Sam remained awake for a while, staring at his peaceful features and letting her thoughts wander.
Eventually, her eyes drifted shut and she lost track of time until she felt John’s warm body disappear and she heard him start bustling about in the bathroom.
She’d pulled on her jumpsuit by the time he exited and was in the process of tying her shoelaces when he put down a glass of water and a bottle of Aspirin next to her.
“Thank you,” Sam said with feeling. Her head was thrumming wildly. The cool water helped a little, especially to ease her parched mouth and throat. She sighed in relief when she put down the empty glass.
“I know a bit about that moonshine you were talking about last night,” John said and gestured to the Aspirin. “You’re going to wanna hang on to that.”
Smirking slightly, he went to the closet to fetch new clothes. Only then did Sam notice he was only wearing his boxers and her cheeks bloomed with heat.
“So… you going to stay away from crazy stunts from now on?” The words slipped from her mouth before she could double-check them, and she was startled by her own frankness. She hesitated to meet John’s eyes.
“I can’t make that promise,” John said, his voice low. He pulled on a T-shirt, then his BDU pants.
Staring down at her hands, Sam said, “Of course. I knew that. I dunno why…”
“I care too much.” Pausing, John clenched his fists. “That’s my weakness. I make friends on the job, and that same job takes them into the fray every day. At least when I’m with them, I can do what I can to prevent anything bad from happening to them.”
Tears welling up in her eyes, Sam nodded with a smile that belied the stormy waters within her. “I know the feeling. I-I saved them so many times. My friends.” She chuckled suddenly, the sound feeling odd and out of place. “Sometimes just by the skin of my teeth.”
John sank down next to her on the bed. Sam stared at his bare feet, mesmerised by them as her mind brought up all those memories she was thinking of, but soon her entire vision was a blurry mess and her breath hitched.
“But in the end, I couldn’t save them when it counted.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice choked. “I wasn’t even awake when they died!”
John drew her close and hugged her. Sam sought further into his warmth, his newly showered scent permeating her senses. He reached up to rub circles on her back. He kissed the top of her head. He muttered things beneath his breath that broke through the abyss within her.
He brought her back.
Gaining control over her tears, Sam straightened and stared into John’s eyes with a sureness that surprised her. “I know you can’t promise anything, but if you do something as crazy as flying an F-302 up a Hive ship’s ass again…”
John chuckled. “Let me guess. You’ll kill me?”
“Something like that.” Sam smiled and reached up to caress his cheek. He startled for a second, then watched her apprehensively without moving. “I care too much too, John. Once, I’d tell you it’s more than I should, but the world can’t go on like that, can it?”
Slowly, John touched the hand on his face, the look in his eyes changing. “No… It can’t.”
Sam’s breath stopped. “So what do you think we should do?”
“The only thing we can do,” John said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. “Stop fighting it.” He squeezed her hand. “After all, the goddamned world’s turned on its head. Who’s to say it won’t turn again tomorrow?”
Gravitating towards him, Sam’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “So, carpe diem?”
John smirked and leaned towards her too. “Yeah. Something like that.”
And then it all fell into place, like a piece in a jigsaw puzzle that, while not perhaps entirely perfect, managed to fit all the same.
And Sam managed to forget, little by little, that all her friends and family in the Milky Way were dead and gone, and to remember, little by little, that it was okay to move on.
It was okay to find peace.
EPILOGUE
Sam jerked awake. For a moment, she expected to see the Kull Warrior in front of her, but only the dark shapes of her quarters met her slowly adjusting eyes.
Her heart beat fast. Sweat ran down the back of her neck. She flung off her sheets, which were hot and sticky, and went for the small balcony outside her living room.
A swift cold wind met her as she stepped out onto the cool stone. The twin moons shone brightly, illuminating the silent city of the Ancients that stretched out before her.
Sam leaned heavily on the railing and ran a hand through her sticky hair. The wind grazing her bare skin was welcome. Slowly, her pulse calmed down and her head cleared up.
It’d felt so real. The adrenaline, the rush, the fear… Even after all this time, she could see the Kull Warrior clearly in her mind’s eye as he took aim for her.
The doors opened behind her, startling her.
John stepped out, rubbing his eyes. He handed her an oversized T-shirt - one of his old ones - with a yawn. “Here. You’re gonna get cold.”
As if they were the magic words, Sam felt the cold seep into her skin. She took the T-shirt and pulled it on as John leaned on the railing next to her. The T-shirt was warm and smelled like him. “Thanks.”
John gestured her closer and Sam obliged willingly. His strong arm snaked around her and he simply held her close. Sam’s eyes closed automatically as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
They spent a moment in silence. Sam alternated her eyes between the lights of Atlantis and the twin moons, her mind coming to grips with the life-like dream. All the while, John’s heartbeat was steady beneath her ear.
“It was the Kull Warrior again,” she said eventually, sighing. “It’s getting ridiculous. I’m still here. It’s been years. I beat it. And yet…” She drifted off, unable to express what she felt in words.
But John understood. He hugged her closer and dropped a kiss on top of her head, like he always did after her nightmares. Sam closed her eyes, listening to his even breathing and feeling her own breath becoming attuned to his.
They stood there until the cold became noticeable and then retreated inside. John pulled her close after she got into bed and turned the light off.
“Big day tomorrow. You need to sleep,” he said softly, nuzzling her neck.
“I know,” Sam said, taking his arms and holding them close to her body. It felt safer that way. She tilted her head back and dropped a kiss on his nose. “Love you.”
John smiled against her skin and mumbled sleepily back, “Love you too.”
And that was enough. In the end, after all they had been through and after all they had lost, it was all that mattered.
FIN