Chapter Text
“MajorCarter,” Teal’c’s deep baritone rumbled through the silence in Sam’s lab, “it has been several hours since you have had any type of nourishment. I believe it is well beyond time that you take a break from your current project.” Most base personnel would have snapped to attention at the serious undertone of his voice. However, Major Carter was not most base personnel. Teal’c was disappointed but unsurprised to see his reprimand fall on deaf ears. Sam was deep in concentration, pink tongue poking past her lips as she carefully inspected an alien artifact. Wires and leads trailed from it and she was methodically connecting each one to its corresponding point on the interface she has constructed.
Teal’c silently watched her face. There was no doubt that she was aware of his presence. A subtle shift in her stance gave that away before he even said a word. Years spent together in the field had made them acutely aware of each other's presence, and years of friendship allowed them to read the subtleties of each other’s expressions. And at the moment, those subtleties were at an impasse. Sam’s expression said, “Just five more minutes,” and Teal’c’s said, “I will physically remove you from this room if I must.” Though the two arguments were equally matched, Teal’c had the advantage of size, ferocity, strength, and what Colonel O’Neill had once accurately described as ‘big ‘ol puppy dog eyes’.
It was the sheer distraction of his rather imposing presence that caused Sam to finally give in and acknowledge him.
“I heard you the first time,” she quipped as she ran a hand through her hair.
“I do not believe I spoke more than once,” came his monotone reply. If this had been six years ago, Sam would have taken his statement literally. But now, she saw the subtle tilt of his head, the way the corner of his mouth turned up almost imperceptively. He was teasing her, no doubt about it. Sam couldn’t help the huge grin that split her face. She held up her hands in mock surrender.
“I’m going, I’m going,” standing and stretching, Sam had to admit, at least to herself, that it was actually really nice to have friends that cared about her as much as Teal’c and the rest of her team.
“But please tell me that they are serving something other than meatloaf in the commissary. I don’t think my poor stomach can take another week of abuse,” she held her hand over her mouth in an exaggerated manner.
“I can confirm that the last of the meatloaf has been…dealt with.” The man really had a gift for one liners, and this one earned him a guffaw from Sam before she regained her composure. Teal’c turned slightly and Sam rounded the table to fall into step beside him.
They walked the hallways in companionable silence. At the elevator Teal’c reached out and pushed the call button. As they waited for the car to arrive Sam stuck her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Teal’c regarded her silently for a moment before speaking up.
“You have something else you wish to say MajorCarter,” it wasn’t a question.
“Huh? Oh uh yeah actually,” she was again touched by how in tune Teal’c was to her body language, “it’s just. I know how you’re all about unspoken communication and all but I just, well,” she stumbled over what she wanted to say, so she reached out and touched his arm gently. It had an immediate grounding effect. She took a deep breath and continued, “I just want you to know that I…I really appreciate everything you do for me. Everything you do for all of us really. Some days it’s like you’re, well you’re kind of what holds us all together, if I’m being honest,” she was finally able to look up to meet his eyes, “so thank you, is what I guess I’m trying to say.”
Teal’c blinked several times in rapid succession, but held her gaze. After a moment he bowed his head deeply.
“You are truly welcome MajorCarter,” he straightened to his full height and once again met Sam's gaze, “it was my duty as First Prime of Apophis to anticipate his needs, to accommodate his every whim,” a flurry of emotions passed over his face in the space of a heartbeat, “it was a skill that I developed out of self preservation. There are many skills that I developed and honed in service to Apophis. Many that I will gladly never use again. But it gives me immeasurable happiness that I am able to use one of those skills to assist those that I truly care for.”
Sam was absolutely floored. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes and she squeezed Teal’c’s arm tightly, trying desperately to let this amazing man know how much she appreciated his openness.
“Teal’c I…” her words of appreciation were cut short by blaring klaxons. With an eyeroll she squeezed his arm tightly again. The two warriors shared a knowing look before they took off at a dead sprint towards the control room.
Teal’c had bulk but Sam had speed. She skidded into the control room a fraction of a second before Teal’c and was already settling into the chair beside Sgt. Harriman before General Hammond came barreling in from his office.
“Close the iris!” Hammond bellowed as he came to stand behind Walter.
“I’m trying Sir. But the controls just aren’t responding,” as he spoke, he slid his chair away from the console, making room for Sam who quickly typed out a series of commands. And then another series of commands. The iris remained stubbornly open. She turned to Walter.
“Try the manual override,” she ordered.
“Lt. Harris already did, Ma’am,” Walter gestured to an airman inside the gateroom, “three times.”
“Try it again!” Hammond was nothing if not thorough.
Poor Lt. Harris nodded and threw the breaker into the ‘off’ position, waited two seconds, and threw it back into the ‘on’ position.
Absolutely nothing happened.
Well, absolutely nothing except for the seventh chevron locking into place, followed by the event horizon spewing into the gateroom before settling back into the gate and shimmering menacingly.
“Major,” Hammond looked at Sam, “prepare to initiate the self-destruct.”
“Yes sir,” Sam pulled up the appropriate screen, and then her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“On my mark Major.” Hammond took a deep breath. It felt like an eternity. And then finally.
“Mark!”
Two sets of hands keyed in their respective passwords. A moment passed and then Sam blinked in horror. Nothing happened.
“Sir, it looks like the self-destruct isn’t responding.”
Hammond pivoted and grabbed the microphone for the gate room.
“Stand your ground, Airmen! We don’t know what’s about to come through that gate!”
The small army of SF’s in the gateroom collectively tightened their grip on their weapons.
Again time seemed to stand still as the entire base held its breath, waiting to see what was about to unfold. Moments or perhaps hours passed. And then suddenly a figure was flung out of the event horizon at a much greater velocity than was advisable for the human body. Said human body landed with a thump and an audible snap. An elderly man came to a tumbling halt near the end of the ramp.
Rather understandably he screamed in pain. Rolling back and forth he clutched his left arm tight against his body. Before anyone else in the gateroom had a chance to react, a shower of rocks and debris followed the man through the gate. He covered his head but the SF’s didn’t so much as flinch. Once the rubble died down the man tentatively raised his head to peer at the event horizon.
“No, no, no,” the man moaned, his voice laced with pain and fear, “c’mon please. Please, you have to make it. Please JJ, you have to make it. Please!” Tears of pain and anguish started to run down the man’s face as he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position. “Please, please, please,” his sobs were the only sound in the gateroom as he rolled onto his side. Several moments passed and then just as suddenly as before, another figure came hurtling through the gate. Running at full tilt, a much younger man came barreling down the ramp. His feet stayed under him just long enough for him to yell, “close the damned iris!”
And then the damndest thing happened.
The iris closed.
And then JJ promptly lost his footing and hit the ramp in a heap near his companion.
Rolling to a stop on hard, slatted metal wasn’t the worst way JJ had ever exited the gate, but it was still an unpleasant experience. He groaned as he rolled onto his side and took a quick assessment of his extremities. They were all screaming at him with varying levels of pain, but they all seemed to be intact and thankfully not broken. His skull felt like it was still vibrating from its impact with the ground, but a familiar voice quickly cut through the ensuing fog.
“Jake! Oh my god Jake, are you okay?”
“Gah!” Jake replied.
“Oh thank god,” his companion had scooted closer and was gripping Jake's arm. Breathing through the pain, Jake was finally able to open his eyes to take stock of his companion. He snapped to attention and swore at the sight.
“Shit! Daniel, your arm!”
Poor Daniel’s arm was hanging at an unnatural angle.
“Shit! I need a medic!” Jake was already pulling Daniel into a more comfortable sitting position. Bracing the older man against his chest, Jake raised his head and bellowed, “I need a medic, now!” It was then that he finally registered the dozens of automatic weapons aimed at his position. So much for situational awareness, he scolded himself. Then anger flared when his orders seemingly fell on deaf ears. None of the SF’s had even moved. This was unacceptable.
“I said,” he steadied Daniel against the railing and pulled himself up onto still wobbly legs, “I need a goddamn medic, NOW!” The SF’s had common sense enough to flinch at the fire in Jake's voice, but they stood their ground. One particularly brave Lieutenant stepped forward.
“Drop your weapons,” the Lieutenant demanded.
“Excuse me,” Jake replied.
“Drop your weapons,” the Lieutenant repeated, “or I will shoot!”
“You drop your weapons!” Jake had had just about enough. But Daniel, ever the diplomat, had sensed that the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.
“Jake,” he warned, “maybe we should listen to them.” Jake’s response was as incredulous as it was expedient.
“Daniel?!”
“Jake.”
“Daniel!”
Daniel let out an exasperated huff. “Jake.”
But Jake could do this all day. In his sleep even. He was just about to respond when movement up in the control room caught his eye. Golden blonde hair framing a familiar face came into view through the reinforced glass. Inquisitive features peered down at the two men arguing on the ramp. Jake and Sam’s gazes locked, and Jake nearly fell backwards.
“Mom?” The word fell from Jake’s lips before he was even aware of speaking it.
Sam’s here?” Daniel questioned, his head jerking up to look at Jake, “oh thank god! Sam,” his gaze scanned the control room, “tell them who we…are.” Daniel’s voice faltered as he saw who was occupying the control room.
Jake was gawping. He stammered something unintelligible before he was able to regain some control.
“Daniel,” he stage-whispered to the flummoxed archeologist, “is that who I think it is?”
“Oh yeah,” Daniel finally managed. The bald, stout Texan in question was currently glaring down at the duo.
“And we have almost definitely travelled back in time and…”
“Oh yeah,” Daniel cut him off.
“And we should probably stop talking like, five minutes ago?”
“Oh yeah,” Daniel was practically a broken record at this point.
“Right,” Jake shook his head in an effort to center his thoughts, “okay yeah. I’m dropping my weapons,” he announced. He slowly moved one hand to unclip the automatic rifle from his chest. Despite his best efforts, the large, angry looking weapon clattered loudly as he set it on the ramp. Several of the SF’s inched forward.
“Sorry! Sorry,” Jake quickly raised his hands. He waited for one of them to make a ‘go ahead’ motion before removing his side arm from its holster to place it alongside his rifle on the ground. He glanced over to see Daniel doing the same with his side arm. An old shoulder injury kept Daniel from being able to accurately fire any type of two handed weapon, so the side arm was the only gun he carried.
“I’ve got a knife under my uniform,” Jake raised his hands again, “outer left thigh, but that’s it.”
“Same,” Daniel was running out of steam, so instead of trying to raise his hands he just kind of slumped over. Jake winced as three SF’s whisked away his and Daniel’s weapons.
“Now if I could bother you good folks,” Jake’s dark blue eyes flashed to steel gray as he spoke, “I really do need a goddamn medic. Now.” He was completely disarmed and his hands were still in the air, but his voice sliced through the silence with deadly accuracy.
“Hey Jake,” a weak voice sounded from the ramp beside him.
“Don’t worry Daniel, we’ll get you taken care of, okay,” he glanced down at his companion.
Just then, one of the blast doors opened and General Hammond strode into the gate room, followed closely by Sam and Teal’c.
“No that’s not it,” Daniel winced as he tried to find a position that wasn’t absolutely agonizing. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and the pain in his arm was quickly tipping over from annoying to unbearable. He started to feel himself go woozy from it, but he needed Jake to understand the gravity of the situation, “you gotta try to be less, Jake.” The pain was making it hard for him to form coherent thoughts.
“Huh? Less what,” the confusion was evident on Jake’s face, “you’re not making any sense Danny.” His attention was divided between Daniel and the three figures approaching from his left. But Daniel grabbed his hand and pulled his focus back in. Daniel’s eyes were as expressive as Jake had ever seen them, which was saying something. Gripping Jake’s hand tightly, Daniel spoke softly but sternly, for Jake’s ears only.
“You gotta try to be less like him, Jake,” the pain in Daniel’s voice as he spoke was from more than just his broken arm. Realization spread across Jake’s features. His mouth formed a silent ‘oh’, and his already stormy eyes went a little more liquid as tears threatened to form. He shut them quickly against the moisture burning behind his eyelids. Focusing his breathing, he fought to bring his emotions back under control. He opened his eyes to meet Daniel’s gaze once more, and gave the older man’s hand a quick squeeze before turning to stand to attention before General Hammond.
“I’m gonna need you to tell me who the hell you are, and how the hell you ended up in my base,” Hammond was so angry he could spit. Jake flinched and stood even straighter. He opened his mouth to speak but Daniel interrupted him.
“My name is Dr. Daniel Jackson,” he managed to gasp through the pain, “and I think we have somehow travelled back in time.”