Title: Anything's Possible
Author: Jewels
E-mail: jhantor@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. They're not mine, never have been mine, even though I wish they were.
Summary: A little character study of Sam. Post-TDYK.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Spoilers: The Devil You Know, Into The Fire
Category: Epilogue, character study.
Notes: One thing about feeling depressed, it makes for great fic writing.

**

Sam had volunteered to sit in the cockpit of the Teltak, and allow Teal'c to get some rest. The Jaffa had repeatedly tried to insist that he did not require any rest, but Sam, after much persuading, had finally managed to persuade him to let her sit in the cockpit on her own. To be honest, she had a suspicion that he knew she wanted to be alone; that it was impossible to get even the vaguest sense of privacy in that cargo hold, along with the rest of her team and the Tok'ra.

She there she was, staring at the almost hypnotic shifting lights of hyperspace, alone. Alone with her memories.

It was too crowded up there.

She tried to concentrate on hyperspace itself, trying to wrap her mind around the whole concept of nth dimensional transit, in between glancing at the controls to make sure they didn't drift off course. Jolinar had provided her with enough information to know how to pilot a teltak. Sam hadn't told anyone else that; it would just lead to them questioning her to see if she had any more residual 'abilities' left over from the Tok'ra. And she really had no intention of dredging up those memories for a long time to come.

But the memories just wouldn't let her be.

'Why leave you alone when it's so much fun to play?' said a little voice in her mind.

Sometimes, when lying in bed at night, with nothing else to occupy her mind with, Sam could recall a sentence spoken by a fellow student while she had been studying at college. "What is a person but the sum of their memories?"

Sam hated that girl. Why did she have to make a statement that would become so patently apt later in her life? And besides which, Maria hadn't exactly been qualified to make such a deeply philisophical statement. She had called herself a scientist, but as Sam was concerning political sciences were about as far from 'science' as you could possibly get.

But that sentence kept coming back to haunt her. She possessed the memories of the Tok'ra that had invaded her, but Jolinar herself was dead. It had taken a long time and much checking out of psychology and philosophy texts from the library before Sam had been able to come up with an idea that had even vaguely satisfied her.

Jolinar was dead. That vital spark that comprised her life had been snuffed out by the Ashrak, but her essence, those essential memories that had made her who she was still remained, scattered, like embers to the wing, throughout Sam's mind.

Her dad had once told her that he and Selmak, like other Tok'ra, could sense a remnant of Jolinar within her. That was how Sam had managed to rationalise that in her mind. So, when she thought of the comment from her mind, it was what she knew Jolinar would have said, from all she knew of the symbiote from her residue, rather than actually hearing it herself.

If she had been hearing it, she probably would be reporting to Dr. MacKenzie as soon as she set foot back on Earth.

'You don't want to hear me. Understandable. After all, I'm dead, right? Don't want to be labelled a lunatic and be tucked away into that nice little rubber cell. Like the one that Daniel had before. You didn't like that place did you? You keep visualising it.'

Sam sighed, tucking her legs towards her chest and resting her cheek on her knees. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the memories, the voice her imagination insisted on conjuring. In some ways, it would have been easier if Jolinar was the one speaking, at least then Sam wouldn't have been convinced that she was slowly being driven mad.

'Casilda did that. The whole curling up into a ball thing. I must have picked it up from her because every single host after her seemed to take on that particular mannerism. Fascinating. I suppose hosts aren't the only people to gain something from the Blending, hmm?'

Yes, like when she had managed to momentarily lose control back on Naetu. Jolinar's remembered emotions had swamped her, the memories of Before, and Sam had, for a single moment of what felt like clarity, had believed that Jolinar's memories were her own, and she lashed out.

Her cheeks felt wet and she could feel the tears soaking into her dirt-stained fatigues, her eyes felt puffy and uncomfortable.

'Don't cry. No host of mine should cry.'

Jolinar was dead.

'More's the pity.'

Jolinar was dead, and she wasn't coming back. Maybe, Sam thought, she should go to Janet when she got back, try and find something that would help her get through the next few nights. After Hathor had used the memory device on her, all her memories had been churned up, and had taken weeks to settle down to the point where they no longer invaded her dreams. How long would it take this time?

'Maybe never. Maybe you won't Dream me at all. In this Universe, anything's possible.'

Yes, anything.

-End