Title: Pilgrim Soul
Author: annaK
Rating: Older kids.
Disclaimer: Characters aren’t mine.
Classification: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sam/Jack, Sam/Team.
Spoilers: "In the Line of Duty", "Heroes", "Threads" (and a tiny,
inconsequential one for "Moebius II")
Summary: "She's Sam Carter. She'll pull through. Always does."

For Rowan, best beta and best friend a gal could have.


**

Pilgrim Soul by annaK

**

Hanging on, there's only one way out.
Pushing up, there's only one way now.
Cause yeah, life's for livin',
So don't you give in,
Don't you tear it apart.

-- “Pilgrim Soul” by Feeder

**

She’s not sure if it was always like this. If she just never noticed.
Tiredness at the break of day, the gradual slipping of consciousness. Sun
through the blinds too bright on early morning eyes. Body heavy as it moves
around the house, sluggish ready-for-work rituals, carried out on instinct
not desire. Thrill of the bike ride to the mountain, air hard and heavy on
her face. Cleansing. Harsh.

She can’t breathe if she goes too fast. The wind rips the air from her
lungs. Squeeze down on the accelerator and for a moment it’s just the
screech of the wind in her ears, the sting in her eyes. Her heart doesn’t
need to beat.

She likes this. Likes to die for a while.

If you go too fast, you can’t breathe. Her life’s one mad dash to the finish
line.

It was only to be expected that one day she’d run out of oxygen.

**

“Carter?”

He’s been there for a while, from the tone of his voice. Probably not the
first time he’s called her name. And he’s close. Much closer than he could
normally reach without setting off her radar.

So tired.

“Sir?” Eyes look up, look right through. She’s not sure if it was always
like this. She hopes not.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” The smile and the concern in his eyes linger, but not too long. He
asks her about her report, says he’ll see her later.

She thinks he used to care. But, then, so did she.

Daniel drops by mid-afternoon to get the readings on the latest artifact
he’s obsessing over. Had some sort of energy reading that had fascinated
her. Should have fascinated her. Would have, before.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’ll grab something in a bit.”

And then it’s back to talking shop. But it’s Daniel, and he’s got one eye on
the tablet, gesticulating wildly and talking a mile a minute about the
ramifications on civilisation X, but the other eye’s never leaving her face.
The concern warms her. The numbness cools the warmth.

But when he leaves with a final hesitant smile, the tears aren’t so easy to
blink back.

The weeks used to go faster, she’s sure of it. Days full of hectic rhythms,
missions and reports and briefings and broken bones. SG1’s karmic quota
killing them a little every day, watching them rise from the ashes, a little
tattered around the edges, but still whole. The downtime’s slow and soft,
and the rest and the peace aren’t cutting it. She’s torn between the
constant need to move, to do, to feel something, and the constant ache
somewhere that she can’t reach enough to heal, the ache that makes getting
out of bed much harder to manage.

She thinks she remembers sunshine and warmth. A cabin and a lake where the
presence of fish remains a mystery. Safety in the surrounds of her family.
Hazel eyes that promised her everything would be okay. But then she
remembers before that, before promises of forever that despite the best of
intentions are once again locked in the room. Remembers a man in her bed
who’d hold her tight and make her laugh. Remembers a father’s strength.
Strong arms that spoke of pride and love.

Looks back further and remembers the soft warmth of a mother’s embrace.
Gentle fingers in her hair chasing away the nightmares she had yet to
actually live. Remembers a home, a family. Playing baseball in the backyard
with Mark, falling and scraping her knees, refusing to cry because that was
for girls, but still finding comfort in the tender hold of a fourteen year
old boy who, despite the teasing, would always be there for his kid sister.

She spends time in Daniel’s office. Occasionally joins Teal’c and the
General for lunch. Feels the concern, recognises the love of these three
men. But she remembers that once, it stopped being about work. Once it was
about family.

And she can’t go back.

She’s Sam Carter. Strong, a soldier before else. And she’s surrounded by
three men who would die for her. But she just can’t feel it.

**

P3X-295 is nothing special. She thinks the General’s doing this on purpose,
breaking them back into field duty with easy missions. Scared that anything
serious might cost them Daniel, again. Worried that Teal’c’s heart’s not in
it anymore, the Jaffa’s loyalty binding him to a distant council on a planet
far away.

Worried that she’s been through too much. That she’s not fit to look after
her team.

But she will. And she does.

The attack is unexpected. The UAV had shown no sign that this planet was
anything but deserted ruins, but it turns out there are locals. Angry
locals. According to Daniel, they’d probably been trespassing on the ruins.
These people don’t take too kindly to trespassers. The first shot comes from
nowhere. Teal’c is at her side in an instant, staff weapon trained on the
horizon, one sturdy hand holding her up as the pain in her leg grows worse.
They normally show themselves before they go for the kill.

P-90s and staff weapon fire, some kind of gun being used by the other side;
the run to the gate is scattered with bullets.

But they make it back okay. The pain in her leg grounds her.

She feels something.

**

Dr. Brightman says the bullet went straight through. No arteries hit.
Scarring should be minimum. She’s offered a sedative for the pain, something
to help her sleep, but she turns it down. The wound stings, keeps her
focused.

Janet would have known something was wrong.

Daniel, miraculously uninjured, brings her Jell-O and tries to make her
laugh. But she remembers lying in this bed a lifetime ago, remembers a young
and naive archaeologist whom she’d learned to call friend, bringing her
flowers and laying a warm palm on her shoulder as her brain struggled to
process a thousand emotions that weren’t her own.

The memories are hers, now. Dad and Daniel and Pete and Teal’c and Jack. No
Janet by her bedside. No little girl in the hallway waiting to make the
demons go away. She’s not struggling with someone else’s life. She’s
struggling with her own. And that’s somehow harder.

The General comes bearing cake, and she knows that should make her smile.
But the emotions are too much. It’s just her and the broken flesh that
proves she’s still alive, despite appearances. Skin healing, blood feeding
the nerves, the throb of life in her veins.

For now, it’s enough.

**

“You did good, Carter.”

Eyes heavy-lidded blink open to bright institutional lights. Leg sore and
aching. She roles over to face him, ignores the stiffness. “Sir?”

“You did good. Except for the getting shot bit… but I can’t really talk on
that one.” There’s a gentle teasing in his voice, but his chair’s close to
her bed, and there’s a concern in his eyes that he’s not pushing away. The
words are about work, but they’ve never been ones for talking.

And she thinks she feels something.

“I…” But the sentence goes unfinished as the tears take her by surprise.

For once, he doesn’t look uncomfortable. Doesn’t take on that wild-eyed
nervousness that has him looking over his shoulder for Daniel. He just moves
to sit on the bed and pulls her into his arms. The numbness fights for
control, the need to push it all away, to stop feeling before it starts to
hurt. But the tears won’t stop, and, really, hasn’t she spent the past weeks
trying to feel something?

Surrendering, burying her face in his neck and the words are out before she
even knows she’s thinking them. Telling him how much it hurt that when they
got back from the cabin everything was back to how it had always been. How
scared she is that Teal’c’s going to leave them for the rebel Jaffa. How she
can not bear to lose Daniel again, and how it still kills her that it’s her
fault they lost him last time. Telling him how much she misses her dad, how
she knows she did the right thing to leave Pete but not having him there to
tell her each day that she’s loved has left her empty. Tells him she hates
him, hates them all because they make her care, make her love, and they’ll
all leave, they’re already slipping away, and she can’t lose them. Can’t.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t whisper pointless consolations into her hair. He
just holds her.

Eventually she’s out of tears, composure returning and she clings a little
tighter before the numbness can slip back in.

“My leg hurts.” Whisper soft and she doesn’t think he’s heard her until the
arms around her loosen their hold. She wants to grab him, beg him to never
let go, but there’s enough of the soldier left in her to let him move away.

He doesn’t go far. One hand on her chin, tilting her head towards his.

“I’m not going anywhere, Carter. None of us are. We love you. You know that.
You’re smarter than this.”

It’s probably the most serious she’s ever seen him. She wants to cry again
**“Carter’s don’t cry”**, wants to break down and weep, shout to the world
that she’s not smart, she’s not strong. She’s empty and aching and she
doesn’t know why. But there’s belief in his eyes. Faith. In her.

And she remembers being someone who deserved it.

A cough from the end of her bed and Jack moves back enough for her to turn
towards Daniel and Teal’c, both standing a little awkwardly, both looking
concerned.

“Interrupting anything?”

She laughs. Puffy-eyed and red-nosed, and Daniel’s still looking at her with
something akin to devotion. And he’s got that sparkle in his eyes that says
everything will be okay.

Jack’s arm’s warm around her, Daniel’s touch is firm and grounding as he
sits on the bed and lays a hand on her uninjured leg. Teal’c casts a shadow
across the blankets, his presence a reassuring fixture by her side. In her
life.

Her leg hurts. But their presence grounds her. She feels something, and it
hurts. But it’s real, and it’s them and the place deep down that she can’t
touch enough to heal soaks up their presence like a soothing balm.

Still hurts to breathe, but she’s Sam Carter. She’ll pull through. Always
does.

Because she never has to do it alone.

**

End


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