Breaking the Curse

Chapter Ten: The Final Goodbye

They're going to think I beat you,” Daniel said, shaking his head as he helped her stow her stuff in the trunk of the car. She looked better than she had when he'd first seen her, and he was glad for that because she'd looked terrible then. She'd scared him. They'd told him that Sam was fine—in retrospect, that was Jack, so he really shouldn't have trusted that; he should remember to ask Teal'c when he wanted to know about Sam—and then Daniel had walked in to find her looking so tired, so beaten... She didn't look like Sam. She looked better now, much better, but was that enough?

Relax, Daniel,” Sam told him, fiddling with the keys. “I'll tell them that you saved me from an abusive boyfriend. I really should have known... All that black leather. What a control freak.”

Daniel looked at her. Stared at her. And then he finally couldn't take it anymore and started laughing. He shook his head. He couldn't believe she'd just said that. They made jokes, yes, but not like this. Of course, he'd kind of started it. He couldn't believe he'd done it, either. Then again, his thoughts about Sam weren't usually rational ones.

How long are we staying in Chicago?” Sam asked, leaning against the door. He wished she would just sit down. She was still easily tired; he could tell. Janet hadn't liked the idea of Sam traveling so soon after what had happened, but Sam had been insistent. Daniel didn't blame her. He wouldn't have wanted to stay at the SGC, either, and even convalescing at home wasn't that much better. A trip. It sounded like such a good idea. And it probably was... for her.

He sighed. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he should just tell her everything. She could hate him. She could tell him how he repulsed her, how she would never, ever see him that way, and that he should just forget everything he'd just said and leave her alone. Because she would. She had done it before.

He closed his eyes with a wince. He didn't want to go through that again. No, it had hurt too much the first time. He hadn't meant to do it then, and the accident hadn't made it better. How could he do it on purpose, knowing what she would say?

Daniel?” Sam asked, touching his arm.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, forcing a smile. “Sorry. I was just... remembering.”

She nodded. “It's hard, isn't it? Even with Pete's funeral, it's so... Half unreal, like I still can't believe it happened, part like it happened so long ago even though it was just a couple weeks ago, and another part like it just happened. I don't know how I feel, how I should feel.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “There is no should, Sam. We feel how we feel. Grieving is a process. It takes us all of our lives. People we meet change us, sometimes in little ways, sometimes in big ways. We love, we hate, we think we can be indifferent, but we lose people everyday, and it doesn't get easier, doesn't go away. We just learn to cope, sometimes in good ways, sometimes in bad ones. In the end, we're just living.”

She smiled a little. “'Those not busy being born are busy dying?'”

Dylan,” Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. A lot of truth to that statement. Simple, yet profound. I think there was something similar in the teachings of—“

Daniel,” Sam interrupted with a bit more of a smile this time. “Don't we have a flight to catch?”

He winced, looking down at his watch. Yeah, they had better get going. They still had to drive up to Denver, their flight leaving out of DIA, and that would take them at least an hour. He didn't know where all the time had gone. He'd come over to Sam's house two hours before the flight, making sure to leave them both plenty of time, and somehow, a whole hour had slipped away from him.

We'll make it, Daniel. You won't even have to speed,” she told him, going to the passenger door. “Still, you had better get in the car if we're going to go.”

He shook his head a little as he shut the trunk and went around to the driver's door.


Sam decided that Daniel needed coffee. She didn't think that he was tired, though he was distracted. She shook her head a little. She was talking about Daniel, after all. He was a man whose brain worked a mile a minute, never stopping, always wrapped in some puzzle or other. He was a genius. He really was. One thing she had learned about geniuses was that they were easily distracted.

She stopped in the coffee shop, trying to figure out what Daniel would like. Trouble was, she had no idea. She knew that he took his coffee with cream and sugar, but only some of the time. What was that he had gotten when they went to Starbucks the other day?

What can I get for you?” the happy barista asked, smiling at Sam. She shook her head, looking at the menu again.

Um, just give me whatever you have that's closest to a caramel macchiato,” she said, finally remembering what Daniel had ordered.

The woman behind the counter blinked. “Um, what's that?”

Sam stared at her for a moment. She had a hard time believing that the girl had never heard of the drink. Starbucks was everywhere. It was a large corporation with locations all over the country, multiple stores in the same cities, even, and for someone who worked in a coffee shop not to know about a drink that was, as Sam understood it, a specialty of theirs, seemed insane.

Um... A latte with caramel in it, then,” she said, hoping that it would be close enough to what he wanted. She wasn't sure what made the caramel macchiato so special, but she knew that Daniel was picky about his coffee—sometimes.

She got a tea for herself, taking their drinks from the counter, heading to meet up with him. He had been sidetracked by the bookstore, even if it was rather small and unlikely to have something to fit his interests. He was a complicated man, his ideas generally took him to places that other people rarely, if ever, gave any thought to, at least not anymore.

Oh, Sam, there you are,” Daniel said, smiling at her again. She smiled back, but she couldn't help feeling like he was hiding something again. She bit her lip. Did he really not want her to come? Saying goodbye to Sarah, that was private. Maybe he had wanted to do it alone, but he had been too kind to say so.

I got you a coffee,” she told him. “They didn't have a caramel macchiato. They didn't even know what that was.”

He frowned as he took the cup from her, inhaling the scent of the drink before taking a sip. She didn't miss the slight face he made as the coffee passed his lips. She sighed. He didn't like it. He looked up at her. “It's fine, Sam, really. It's just...not what I expected. And not what I'm used to, either.”

Are you sure? We could get something else—“

No, really, Sam, I don't mind,” he assured her. “Come on, there's tables over here. Let's have a seat, kill some time before we can board.”

She nodded. She still thought there was more going on than he was saying, but she didn't think she would get him to open up before the flight, maybe not after. He was a very private man, and she didn't know how to reach him. Oh, she should have picked up some cookies before she left the coffee shop. She didn't remember seeing chocolate walnut cookies there, but even if there weren't, Daniel wouldn't complain.

You didn't answer me, you know,” she told him as she sat down. “How long are we staying in Chicago?”

Just a day or two,” he told her, shrugging. “I've got the information on Sarah's funeral, and I know where she was buried. If you want to do some sight-seeing while we're there, you—we—can. I just need a few hours, really, so—“

You can have as long as you need, Daniel,” she told him. “And if you want to go alone, you can. I will find something else to keep me busy. I can stay at the hotel.”

You don't have to, Sam,” he told her, placing his hand on hers. “In fact, I would rather you didn't.”


I can't believe they made me take off my shoes,” Daniel muttered, not for the first time since the incident happened. He knew that they'd tightened security after the destruction of the twin towers, but this was ridiculous. Having him take off his shoes? Honestly, what could he possibly have been hiding in them? A nail file? Maybe that would have been good for a prison escape, but it wasn't a prison. It was an airport.

Are you still going on about that?” Sam asked, smiling. She was trying not to laugh, and he didn't really think that she'd be able to stop herself. “Daniel, I know it was unpleasant, and rather embarrassing, but it's over. It happened last night, before we got on the plane. We're in Chicago now. It's over.”

Easy for you to say,” Daniel grumbled, turning his spoon around in his cup. Continental breakfasts didn't have that great of coffee, but it was sadly better than the one Sam had gotten him yesterday. She'd meant well, really she had, and it wasn't her fault that it had been terrible. “You didn't have to take your shoes off to pass through security.”

She giggled a little, unable to stop herself. “I know. And I'm sorry. I really am. It's just... It didn't happen to me, and I know if it did, I would not be laughing right now, but it didn't, and so I am, but I am sorry, Daniel. I'm not really trying to laugh, believe me.”

I just don't get it,” Daniel muttered irritably. “What could I possibly have in my shoe?”

She collapsed into another set of giggles, earning a few stares from the other hotel guests sitting in the dining room. He lowered his head down onto the table, his misery complete. She composed herself again after a few minutes, reaching over to touch his arm. “It's okay, Daniel. It will be okay. Remember, you have faced Goa'uld system lords and replicators and ascended beings, and you're upset by airport security?”

I am never flying commercially again,” he insisted, not looking up from where his head lay in his arms. He would not do it.

She laughed again. “Oh, Daniel, I hate to break it to you, but we still have to fly back to Denver.”

He picked his head up, holding it long enough to drop it down again, over and over. She finally stood up and crossed over to his side of the table, rubbing his shoulders. “Come on, Daniel. Let's go find something nice and touristy to do. I think you need a break before you go see Sarah, and I actually have never been to this fine city, so why don't you show me something?”

He got to his feet slowly, finishing his coffee before he followed her from the room. He didn't know what to tell her, to show her. He had lived and worked in Chicago, but he hadn't really noticed the city around him. He had barely remembered to eat, as his dreams had reminded him. Sarah had dragged him to a few different restaurants over their brief relationship, but he didn't even remember where they were.

What do you want to see?” he asked, catching up with Sam outside their hotel room. She smiled at him as she used her passkey and opened the door.

She shrugged. “I don't know. Don't you have any suggestions? You did live here, after all.”

Sam, you know me,” he said helplessly, shrugging. “How much do I really live anywhere?”

She stopped, frowning. “Oh, well, then... Maybe we should find a guidebook?”


En route to find a guidebook, Daniel had suddenly changed his mind (or maybe the coffee had finally gotten to his brain, Sam thought with a smile), and he remembered where to go. He said that there really was only one place to show her. He wouldn't tell her what that one place was, but she didn't mind, really. It was enough to be here, seeing a bit of happy mischief on his face as opposed to the gloomy face he'd had for the last day or so.

The cab dropped them off, and Sam looked up at an older building, with four columns in the front of it. Tapestry advertisements hung in between them, and she smiled as she saw them. “The Field Museum?”

Created in 1893,” Daniel agreed, “not here, actually, but, still, they did it for the 'accumulation and dissemination of knowledge, and the preservation and exhibition of artifacts illustrating art, archeology, science and history.'”

What are you, a tour guide?” a man snapped, pushing past them. Sam glared at his back. The steps weren't crowded; he had just been rude because he could.

She touched Daniel's arm. “Just ignore him. I prefer you over any tour guide, any day.”

He smiled at her, and she wrapped her arm around his. He was wearing the leather jacket that she'd talked him into during their “geek week,” and she fingered it softly. She still liked it, a lot, and he looked good in it. She ignored her own reaction to her thoughts and led him up the steps. She didn't have to feel guilty for noticing that her friend was an attractive man. And she wasn't going to pretend anymore that she didn't. He didn't deserve that, and neither did she.

So, where are we going first?” Sam asked after they'd paid for their admission, and Daniel was contemplating the map.

Well, we have to see Sue,” he told her, smiling. “That's one thing that we just can't miss.”

Sue?”

Daniel took Sam's hand and led her into the Stanley Field Hall. She followed him happily, willing to let him take her wherever he wanted. If she thought about it, she would have to admit that she was getting tired, her body was sore, and she did ache, but she didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to enjoy herself. They were in Chicago, away from the SGC and everything, and even if they had come for a sad occasion, this was a break from their lives. They should be doing something pleasant, something fun, if possible.

Sam doubted that this would fit Janet's definition of “resting,” but she really didn't care.

Tugging on her hand to get her attention again, Daniel pointed to the room's main attraction, where most of the other museum visitors had gathered. She blinked a bit, taking in the large Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton that loomed over them, and then she laughed. “Sue?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, they don't actually know if this is male or female, but they call her Sue after the paleontologist that found her, Sue Hendrickson. She is something, isn't she? The most complete skeleton in the world. According to the rings on the bones, Sue was about twenty-nine.”

So young,” Sam murmured, looking at the dinosaur with awe.

Well... Old, more likely, actually,” he corrected, and she shook her head, catching her mistake. He grinned at her. “You know... I bet those aren't her real teeth.”

Sam giggled helplessly. “Daniel...”


So, it's time, then,” Sam said, looking at him across the table.

Daniel realized that he hadn't touched any of his food, despite the bite carefully piled on his fork. He had meant to eat it, but somehow his mind had wandered and he'd let several minutes pass by without actually eating anything. Sam, for her part, had finished off her plate, but his was full, and he had no desire to eat it.

He looked at her, nodding. “Yeah, I think it's time.”

She picked up the check and paid it, leaving him to put his food into a to-go container and pull on his jacket. He didn't really think he'd want the food anymore tomorrow than he did right now, but he didn't want Sam's money to go to waste. He would have paid for the meal himself, but she'd been faster than he was, even while she was injured. He sighed deeply.

I called a cab,” Sam told him when she got back to their table. “It should be here in a few minutes. Do you want to wait here or outside?”

Outside.” He knew that it would be cold, with the wind and the cooler temperatures of the night, but that was better than being inside the noisy restaurant full of strangers, unable to cope with the emotions warring in his mind.

Though he had never been a particularly bold man, at least when it came to feelings of a personal nature, he felt like pulling Sam into his arms and kissing her, telling her all of how he felt without words. He knew, however, that it was just another way of avoiding what he had come to Chicago to do.

Sam got her coat, and they went to the door, stepping out into the cooling night. She took his hand, her fingers laced with his, shivering a little. A cab pulled up to the curb, and the cabbie called out to them, asking for Sam Carter.

Daniel climbed into the back of the cab, asking for the cemetery. He settled back into the seat, closing his eyes. Sam sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Their driver, apparently recognizing that his passengers weren't in the mood to talk, skipped the small talk and drove them through the city in silence.

Give us twenty minutes?” Sam asked the driver after he'd stopped the cab, offering him a bill. He took it and nodded, pulling out the newspaper.

Daniel got out, waiting for Sam. She took his hand again, squeezing it. “Is twenty minutes okay? I mean, if you need more time—“

It's enough. It'll never be enough, but it's enough,” he told her, knowing that she, of all people would understand. She nodded, and they walked deeper into the cemetery, past the graves of people he had never known. He'd looked up the location of Sarah's plot before they came, and the cab had gotten them close, but they were still two rows away.

There. He stopped, looking down at an unfamiliar marble that did not seem to fit the warm, kind woman he had known. Sarah Gardner. He traced his fingers over the name and the dates, closing his eyes as he mourned a life cut short.

Oh, Sarah,” he whispered. “There were so many things that I wanted to share with you, wanted to tell you. When I found out that I was right, all I could think was, Sarah would love this. Things changed, of course... So quickly. I was caught up in a rebellion, and I met a woman, an amazing woman. She wasn't you, but you deserved better than what I gave you, and Sha're taught me many things, but she also taught me, more than anything, how much I had hurt you. When I saw you again, at the funeral, I thought I'd have a chance, not to start again because that time had gone, but to say I was sorry for what happened. In the end, I never did take that chance. I let other things get in the way again. Osiris took you as a host, and I lost you. I tried, so hard, to get you back, I endangered people's lives, everything we had worked for, but in the end, I still lost you. And I'm sorry, Sarah. So very sorry.”

He pressed his fingers to his lips and touched them to the stone. Sam touched his shoulder gently, reassuringly. He looked up at her.

You should be sorry,” an angry voice said, and Daniel turned to see Stephen standing there. He winced. All he had wanted was a chance to say the things he hadn't said, was it so much to ask? Why was Stephen here? Couldn't they have made this trip, just a brief visit, in and out in a day, without running into him? It wasn't too much to ask, really. “I couldn't believe it when someone from your office—whatever the hell that is—called to ask me, me of all people—if I had seen you. I told you not to come.”

All I wanted was to say goodbye,” Daniel said. “I did as you asked, I stayed away from the funeral. You couldn't really have expected me to stay away for the rest of my life.”

Yes, I could,” Stephen insisted, coming closer to them. “You weren't ever supposed to come back. She didn't. So why should you?”

Stephen,” Daniel began, but the other man's unreasonable grief was all that mattered to him. He struck out with his fist, the blow catching Daniel on the chin, and he staggered backwards, knocking Sam with him as he fell over another headstone. She groaned, and he rolled over, rubbing his jaw.

You shouldn't have come back, Daniel. All you ever caused her was pain,” Stephen said, his hands still clenched into fists at his side.

We'll go, Stephen,” Daniel promised him weakly. “We'll go right now. Please, just let Sam go. She was hurt the other day, and this—“

So you've got another one, huh?” Stephen demanded, lashing out with his foot. Pain shot through Daniel's kidneys, and he curled tighter around himself, trying not to cry out. “Sarah hasn't even been dead for a month, and you already have another one, do you?”

It wasn't like that between me and Sarah, not anymore,” Daniel ground out, “and it isn't like that between me and Sam. She's a friend. Now let her go. If you have a problem, it's with me. Not her.”

You're the reason she's dead,” Stephen said angrily. “It's your fault.”

Yes,” Daniel agreed, and he didn't try to stop the next kick or the one after it. He did blame himself, and if this was how he finally paid for what he had done to Sarah, then so be it.

Stop it!” he heard Sam's voice cry out, but his head had been knocked back into the headstone. As his world went dark, he hoped that she would be all right.


I've already told you,” Sam said, shaking her head as she paced next to Daniel's bed. “He won't want to press charges, and neither do I.”

You've got one hell of a right hook, ma'am,” the detective said, a smile temporarily crossing his stern features. He was every bit the image of a seasoned cop from the big city, getting older and closer to retirement. “If you don't want to press charges, it's possible that this Raynor fellow might.”

Sam laughed a little, enjoying a brief moment of levity, her first since she'd heard the other man's voice at the cemetery. She couldn't believe what had happened, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Daniel, lying there on the ground, letting the other man hurt him. She had always known that he carried a huge burden of guilt, but she had never thought she would see the day that Daniel just gave up like that. It scared her.

Stephen Raynor acted out of uncontrollable grief,” Sam repeated. “I know that. Daniel does, too. And he wouldn't want Stephen hurt anymore than he already is. I don't know. Maybe he does need a wake up call, but time in jail... I don't think that will really help. It would just make him angrier at Daniel for something that wasn't his fault in the first place.”

Sarah Gardner's death,” the detective said, nodding. “If you don't mind me asking again, Major Carter, what happened to Sarah Gardner?”

She was killed,” Sam answered, taking a deep breath. “She was... caught in the crossfire. Someone had stolen government secrets from the base where Daniel and I work, and when they were discovered, they tried to kill him. Sarah was just an innocent bystander.”

And so Raynor believes Jackson is responsible,” Crumb finished, shaking his head. “This isn't good, Major Carter. And for the record, I don't think you should let him get away with this.”

Sam looked at Daniel, stopping to take his hand again, wishing he would wake up already. “You don't understand, Detective. This man, Daniel, he has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known. He didn't fight back, not because he couldn't, but because he didn't want this to go any further than it already has. As for me... Well, I've got a hell of a right hook, remember?”

Carter,” the colonel's voice came in from the hallway, making her jump. She cursed under her breath and forced a smile. He shook his head. “I thought that sending you up here was supposed to keep you two out of trouble.”

I wish,” Sam said softly, closing her eyes as she kissed Daniel's hand and set it on the bed again. She faced her commanding officer, feeling foolish. “Although Daniel hasn't woken up yet, they say he'll be fine.”

How the hell did this happen?” O'Neill demanded. He was in uniform, which meant that he was here in an official capacity, even if what had happened didn't really have that much to do with the SGC. Still, with Sarah having been a host, the work that Daniel did, and what Stephen knew or suspected, they had to cover the possibility of a leak.

Oh, sir,” she sighed. “Can I please give you a full report when we're back on the base? I've been trying to convince Detective Crumb that charges aren't necessary. You know Daniel wouldn't want to press them. He didn't want to fight.”

Yeah,” O'Neill agreed. “He never does. Look, Crumb, we'll handle it from here. If you have problems with that, I've got a general on the phone waiting to talk to you.”

Crumb grunted under his breath, leaving the room. The colonel came over to her, standing next to her in that awkward way of theirs. She looked down at Daniel, wondering what had happened to his glasses. The hospital must have done something with them, she supposed. “Is Teal'c here?”

Nah, had to leave the big guy back at the base,” the colonel answered. “You want to tell me what really happened, Carter? Report says Raynor lost it and did a number on Danny boy there, but it's been a while since he couldn't hold his own in a fight.”

That's because he didn't, sir. He didn't fight back at all.”




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