The Letter

Author's note : When I was writing "Between the Lines" and I got to episode 10x12 "Line In The Sand", I wondered what Samantha would have written as a letter to Jack if she had died. And then I had this idea of a letter that she would not have changed since then and that she would regret. So I incorporated that into my story. When I finished "Between the Lines," I had this idea of what the Carter in the story might have written when she didn't have her happy ending. This is what I came up with.

For several minutes, Samantha stared at her computer screen. Her fingers were frozen over the keyboard. The folder was unlocked, the last text document opened. And yet the page of the word processor was hopelessly blank. Janet's death had changed everything. Samantha had realized that none of them were invincible and that they could disappear at any time. She wanted to leave a trace. Something that would be discovered if anything happened to her. Cassandra slept upstairs. The funeral was especially difficult. Colonel O'Neill had stayed with her until she fell asleep. After that, Samantha had walked him to the door, held him close to her. She wiped away the tear that had begun to roll down the corner of her eye. She saved the document and closed it in anger. She would not succeed. She looked at the folder whose various text documents were now displayed on her screen : "Dad", "Cassandra", "Teal'c", "Daniel", "Colonel O'Neill". She moved the mouse over the document and clicked on Rename. Even here, in digital space, she couldn't let go. Even here, she was compelled to obey. She deleted the file name and typed in "Jack" and confirmed her change. She reopened the text file. The cursor blinked at the top of the page, waiting patiently for her to type her first words.

But she couldn't. It had not been easy for her to write the letters she had intended for the others. Still, she didn't hesitate. The words had been easy to find. Not for him. As always when it came to "him". She had not even managed to create a document titled to reflect the sentiments she hoped to reveal.

She wrote, "My Colonel." She pressed and deleted what she'd written. She had to be honest. That was the point of her letters, to say what she was hiding. To have no regrets. To leave nothing unsaid. Her mind was on the conversation she had had with Cassandra the night of her mother's death.

"Sam... The last time I saw my mother... I was angry... I don't even know why. As she was leaving for work, she said to me, "I will see you tonight, honey, I love you." ... and I didn't answer. I was so angry ... Sam, I should have told her I love her." Cassandra was crying in her arms. Colonel O'Neill's sunburnt hand had come to rest on the young woman's shoulder, the back of his hand touching his subordinate's cheek.

"Cassandra. Your mother knew that you loved her. That you weren't able to tell her then makes no difference. A parent knows these things. Believe me, your mother knew, Cassie." At that moment, there was so much pain in that chocolate-colored look that it broke Sam's heart just a little bit more. And there came the idea of the letters... Letters she would leave behind. So that no unspoken words would remain after her death. So that they would never doubt the love she had for them.

"Jack."

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she typed. Of all the letters, this one was the most difficult to write. She had no idea how to tell him all the things that had been on her mind for years. She sighed and ran a nervous hand over her neck, searching for the courage to let her feelings out. This might be the only time she could. She reached out and grabbed a glass of wine which sat next to her. Samantha took a long sip of the crimson liquid. She wanted to give herself the courage, to unleash herself, to dare to write what she wanted and then blame it on the alcohol.

"Jack.

You said something to Cassandra. Something that troubled me deeply. You told her that even though she hadn't told her mother she loves her on the day she died, Janet knew. That a parent knew. And that got me to thinking. About what I never said, assuming you knew. About the things that you would never know if I didn't tell you.