Breaks in
the iron
Author: wanderingsmith
dec 2008
Summary: Everyone has a breaking point
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I
play with 'em.
AN: I have no idea where this came from.. maybe from watching
Entity.
he just looks so much like he's breaking inside...
Colonel Jack O'Neill didn't break down. She'd watched him remain
stoic in the face of physical agony and the loss of friends; though if
you knew to interpret it, you would find depth-less anguish in his eyes
whenever they lost anyone. He would get furious, if he could; but
only a close friend would even have a chance of recognizing the pain he
felt.
Which was why, the first time this had happened, Sam had been
half-worried that there was something acting on him; some new alien
infection, or maybe he'd been *replaced* by an alien again...
Luckily, she'd refrained from panicking; had pulled him into a hug,
just as he always did for her, and held him, silently shaking her head
and pulling him close again when he tried to apologize.
And now, years later, it only took her a second to shift gears when she
felt the arms around her thighs stiffen and his lips lift, his forehead
coming to rest on her belly as his breath suddenly went short and
over-controlled against her bare skin.
Jack didn't break. But every so often, the emotions he kept under
wrap, the terror and pain and sorrow and anger, got strong enough to
escape even *his* iron control.
Sam gently reached down to drift her fingers through his still-short
white hair and stroke his coiled neck and shoulders; all that she could
reach as she lay back in their bed, the warm, salty water making a
little pool on her belly making her heart ache as he lay, utterly stiff
and silent, clinging to her.
Sometimes she could shimmy them into a hug; but other times, like now,
there was no give in his grip at all. She wasn't even sure he
remembered that she was present as he rode out the waves that shuddered
his body.
She'd long since stopped wondering why it happened more often during
sex than anywhere else. Her best theory was that it was the time
he was most open; least likely to have his defenses up. And then
too, he had as many memories of losing her as she did of him; they were
both a link to pain and danger to each other. There was nothing
like feeling happy to make the fear of losing everything poke its head
in.
He'd once mumbled that he didn't used to have these episodes so often,
which had caught her a little oddly until she continued her
reasoning. They were happy together and he had actually started
opening up when they were alone; applying her theory and solving led to
a strong man who had sacrificed his ability to bury pain for the joy
they allowed themselves to find with each other.
After a few minutes watching him with sorrow and care, she saw his body
relax and quickly made her move, wriggling down through his
not-yet-quite-loose hold until she could wrap her arms around him,
tenderly stroking every inch of his naked skin that she could
reach. His eyes were squeezed shut until she whispered "C'mere."
Then lost, anguished brown glittered and splintered at her through a
layer of water that trickled down and was replaced by more as she
pressed her lips to a softened cheekbone and then pulled his
unresisting damp face to shelter in her neck without another
word. There was neither shame nor fear in seeing Jack with
tear-tracks down his cheeks; only acceptance. Knowing that
tomorrow it could be her turn to get ambushed by the scars of their
life and be pulled into a warm, tight grip with no empty words.
All they could do was hold each other through this, give each other an
anchor to cling to and peace to fight for. Fight on through the
breaks.
Back to Fanfic
Back to The Canadian Wanderer's homepage