Silence
Silence
by Steph Lutz
TITLE: Silence
AUTHOR: Steph Lutz
EMAIL: kaisteph@worldnet.att.net
CATEGORY: Angst, S/J UST, Missing scene
PAIRING: Sam/Jack
SPOILERS: 2010
SEASON / SEQUEL: 4
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: none
SUMMARY: What made Jack change his mind and join the team?
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Stargatefan, Heliopolis
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Heaven holds a sense of wonder,
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up when the rage in me subsides.
In this white wave, I am sinking, in this silence....
~ Sarah McLachlan
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. If Carter's correct and she always is ten year's worth of Technicolor will soon be re-written. And then maybe I won't be dying anymore. But that's just too much for my tired, puny brain to comprehend, as I lie here bleeding on the stairs just scant feet from the open wormhole.
The silence in the Stargate terminal is profound. Angry shouts, jarring weapons-fire, metallic chirps of technology all fade to quiet. If I could rise, move forward just a few more steps throw the note... But I can't, my chin is frozen to the step, sinking into the silence Carter's plan, and Earth's future, will die with me.
The note is plucked from my hands. Sam! No! She's not supposed to be here. I promised....
My vision fades to gray. Instead of showing me the beginning of my life, the way it's supposed to work, the images I see start just a couple of days ago....
"Let me ask you something what does your dearly beloved ambassador have to say about this?"
"I haven't had a chance to tell him."
"Maybe he can help you."
"Yeah..." Samantha Carter's long white coat flapped against Jack O'Neill's leg as she pushed angrily past him. For a second he saw tears in her eyes, but she twisted her face away and vanished around the side of the cabin. A whir of a transport beam then silence.
Jack swallowed hard, the bitterly sarcastic words he'd spoken to her leaving a sour taste in his mouth. She was gone by now there was no point in running after her, even he were able to make his legs move that fast. He walked unsteadily back to the deck chairs instead, and lowered himself into one of them. He leaned over, resting chin in hands, elbows on bent knees and stared out toward the stagnant, empty pond. No damn pesky fish, indeed. He'd starve to death if it weren't for the groceries store a mere 20 miles down the road. A grocery store that thankfully always stocked plenty of beer. In fact, if there was ever a time to pop open a bottle and chug it down, this was it. Except he didn't feel like moving. So, he sat. And stared at the pond.
Damn Samantha Carter. Damn her for coming here just when he had finally thought he'd gotten her out of his head. Damn her little goody-two-shoes ambassador husband. Damn the Ashen, damn the Goa'uld, damn the whole Stargate project for that matter. Ten years ten long, lonely, bitter years since his team and everyone else on the planet had turned against him. The planet didn't bother him that much, but his team's betrayal had hurt Daniel, his best friend, in all his exuberance still not quite able to meet Jack's eyes through all the debate. What debate there had been which had been only him protesting and not able to come up with anything concrete, and the rest rolling their eyes and ignoring him. Teal'c who had once called him a brother. Well, he couldn't really blame Teal'c the future of the Tau'ri was not his ultimate concern, and he had gotten his dearest wish and seen the Goa'uld eliminated. It was Carter's betrayal that had hurt most of all.
Carter, who had always before looked to him for guidance. Okay, so maybe they hadn't always seen one hundred percent eye to eye on things, but she usually deferred to him in the end. If he hadn't already changed his mind to match hers.
He'd made his anger known in true Jack O'Neill fashion, thrown a tantrum, and slammed a few pieces of furniture and equipment around, then left without looking back. And now she thought she could just waltz back into his life, and ask him to help her save the world. How bitterly melodramatic. Of all the deserted cabins, fishless lakes.... Humphrey Bogart, eat your heart out.
The human race had made their bed, let them lie in it, as his grandmother would have said. It wasn't like the Ashen were about to blow up the planet. Everyone would have their long and happy lives, there just wouldn't be any more of them. He'd lived his life; had his child, whom he'd lost, had his friendships that had all ended, had his fill of excitement and danger and cheated death too many times to want to try again. He did feel bad for Carter; the one time he hadn't been sarcastic was when he'd told her he was sorry. But it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his problem. He was busy. He had a lake to row on, and a dog to find and bond with.
The birds had stopped singing, and a cool quiet wind brushed his cheek. Jack looked up with a start. When had it gotten dark? He must have been sitting there staring at the pond for hours. The dark was oppressively silent not even so much as a frog or cricket venturing to interrupt. He set down the fishing reel he'd been absently turning over and over in his hands, and went inside the cabin.
In the tiny kitchen, he went through the motions turned on lights, heated water for coffee, opened a can of soup, dumped it into a pot and stared at the misshapen lump still trying to retain the contour of the can. Steam hissed silently from the sides of the battered kettle that had long ago lost its whistle. He didn't bother getting a mug he wasn't thirsty or hungry. He left the soup melting forlornly it its pot and went into the living room.
He tossed some logs in the fireplace, mixed some kindling and managed to get a small fire going. He warmed his hands and stared into the quietly flickering flames. The individual tongues of fire waved timidly at him. A larger yellow one with a blue base rose up and for a second he could have sworn he saw Samantha Carter's face. Angrily he threw a pinecone into the flames. The resulting explosion cast a shower of sparks out onto the tile around the hearth and dancing shadows sprang up around the room. They wagged their fingers at him in silent accusation. That was it he was going crazy. Stark raving mad, bonkers, cracking up, call it what you will - in the middle of the woods.
He fled into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and stared at his face in the mirror at the rumpled gray hair, scruffy rebellious beard, weather-beaten cheeks, and the wrinkles that hadn't gone away for all his getting away from it all.
They were going to do it anyway. Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c they would try Carter's crazy time travel scheme without him, and they would get themselves killed. Hadn't he once said that he would rather die himself than lose Carter?
Damn, damn and damn again. Who was he kidding? The bottom line was Samantha Carter had come and asked for his help. And he was going to do what she wanted. Because she asked him. With a heavy sigh, he reached for a razor. He couldn't go into a black op looking like a mountain man.
"I wonder why you sent it. I wonderwhen?"
"Yeah," Jack stared back at Carter, "gotta wonder," he said slowly. A small icy finger traced his spine up through his shoulder blades, and a deep quiet assailed his ears. He shivered. "Carter?"
"Sir?"
"You just feel a chill?"
"No sir," she looked at him thoughtfully. "You?"
"The proverbial someone walking over my grave...."
Carter waited, watching him.
Jack shook himself and slid down from his desktop perch, the moment passed. "It's always freezing or a sauna in here no happy medium." He clapped a hand on Carter's shoulder. "Coffee?"
She smiled. "Sure."
They walked out into the corridor amid the busy sounds of the SGC.
The end
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