Despair
and hope
Author: wanderingsmith
Jan 2009
Summary: Alternate Chimera 7x15
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: because I hate Shanahan and will come up with all sorts of
ways to kill him off before I stop...(eg)
Goto Chapter 2
Chapter one
Sam was stubbornly staring at her computer screen, firmly ignoring the
mess of feelings hiding just under her tight skin after her blind
date. When she heard her door close, she looked up in surprise to
see Teal'c come to stand besides her. She straightened, wondering
what was wrong for him to visit her with such a serious expression and
close the door.
"MajorCarter, I wish to ask you something. Something which I believe
would fall under the Tau'ri expression 'personal'."
Sam blinked, surprised and suddenly wary. It wasn't often that
Teal'c pried into any of their feelings, but when he did, she suspected
that even the colonel was in for a bad time. She didn't bother
pretending she was cheerful, letting her tone go flat as she braced
herself, "Yes?"
He nodded once, "Why have you suddenly begun 'dating', have you and
O'Neill dissolved your-" Sam raised a hand in a 'stop' motion,
wishing she could have kept him from saying the name in the first place
but definitely not interested in how he was going to label.. 'it'.
They stared at each other silently for a minute, not challenging, just
determining how serious they each were about having this
conversation. Not that she really expected him to let it go if
he'd made the effort to start it in the first place. The problem
with indomitable friends was that once on a bone, they never let go;
even if that bone was your screwed up feelings. She finally
sighed and rubbed her hands over her face once, wiping off the mask
she'd put on for work, poking wincingly at those pesky feelings and
starting in a defeated voice, looking him straight in the eye.
"I'm tired Teal'c. I just want an actual chance to be happy, not just
years-ago hinted-at feelings that can never come to anything, even if
they actually exist. You may live to be 200, but I'm halfway through
the average Tau'ri lifetime. And the longer you wait.. the less
likely you are to find anything, any *one*, to end your life with. Even
now.." she looked away, fixing on the dull grey wall behind him, "Maybe
it's already too late. I sat there last night Teal'c, and I had *no*
idea what I was.. supposed to *want*, or look for, or..." Sam's arms
waved in frustration, fists clenched as tight as her shoulders had been
for months as she tried to find any peace she could.
Teal'c waited for her to take a breath and settle a moment before
responding with his usual calm tone, drawing her eyes back to him, "I,
too, despaired, once." he nodded his head when she looked at him in
disbelief, "Freedom may seem an obvious concept, but after so many
years in Apophis' service, I had begun to wonder at what it could
possibly mean. When I met O'Neill, yourself and DanielJackson, I
was still not certain of what it was I was putting my family in danger
for. And even after I *truly* began to understand what it could
mean, how different my people's lives *could* be... There were many
times over the years that I nearly despaired at our ever winning
Freedom. But I *could* not." He looked at her with fierce
eyes, trying to convey the dept of his belief, "The prize was, *is*,
worth anything to me. I will fight for *another* 200 years without
hesitation, because the merest *chance* of succeeding is worth more
than any partial ease I could find by settling for less."
Swallowing thickly, Sam smiled a little, thinking how the colonel would
react to being compared to the freedom of the Jaffa people. But it
suddenly made sense to her. Yes, she could settle for some small simile
of happiness, and there were probably days that she'd forget there
could be more. But could she ever ask anyone to fight to the end
for a cause if she did? If she gave up on what *she* wanted,
could she ever ask the Tok'ra or the Asgard to take a risk to help them
in some desperate hour? Ask a fellow soldier to stand with her
against insurmountable odds?
She'd been ready to give up. To listen to that weak and tired
inner voice that sent the image of her father and the colonel to bid
for her to find a palliative for loneliness. But under Teal'c's steady
gaze, she could not find the brashness to take such an easy way out,
not after the years he'd spent in exile at her side, spurned by his own
family, called a traitor by friends. A stranger on a world that
wasn't always welcoming. All for the small chance that a race
that had never before set foot on another planet, had no ship or
shield, could somehow win out against oppressors that his warrior-kin
had not been able to overthrow for thousands of years.
It wasn't the same. And yet it was. The personal sacrifice of his
personal life, of family and peace; they shared that. And, she thought
as she straightened and gave him a real smile, she should have
remembered that she wasn't truly alone. He and Daniel and the colonel
were there for her and she for them. It could never fill the intimate
gaping hole in each of them, but none of them had to feel alone.
In a fit of optimism, she stepped up and wrapped her stately friend in
a hug, deciding that she needed to apply some of her 'doohickey'
concentration to getting her team closer again, patching up the
stresses that had stretched them so far apart lately. Maybe forward
momentum was all she really needed. Forward momentum applied
where it could do some real good.
Chapter two
AN: sugary shweetness ahead :)
Though she would never admit it, Sam wasn't paying the attention she
should to the 'geek squad's' report; she smirked briefly, letting
herself enjoy the feeling of warmth that hearing his voice call them
that in her mind brought. Such a simple thing, but she'd
discovered that allowing herself to think of him without guilt was also
part of feeling less alone, also helped bring her a certain peace about
her life.
But that was all the more reason why she'd been so distracted for the
last couple of hours, she knew, trying to figure out what it was she'd
seen last night. And then it hit her.
Grief.
Sitting on the couch and grinning as a drunk Daniel exuberantly tried
to beat Teal'c at Halo, Sam casually glanced at the colonel, sitting on
the ledge next to the fireplace and leaning back on the warm brick that
framed it, smiling faintly at the boys. She couldn't put her
finger on what was bothering her. He'd joined in the plans for
the team night she'd initiated with his old sarcastic cheer. Had gone
out of his way to get Daniel drunk and to tease her and Teal'c.
Every word was right, every tone. So what was ringing wrong?
She hadn't had time to continue the thought as Daniel dragged her into
helping him and Jack volunteered to watch Teal'c's six against her
supposed hacking tricks. But now she closed the lid of her laptop
and tracked Daniel to the commissary.
"Daniel?"
"Ummm?"
She rolled her eyes in half-amused annoyance when he didn't even lift
his nose from his journal as he spooned cake blindly into his mouth,
"*Daniel*!"
This time his head jerked up and he focused on her with a smile of
welcome, "Oh. Hi Sam. What's up?"
She sat down with a frown, worried for some reason she couldn't quite
explain, "Has.. has someone the colonel knew died?" The two of
them were so respectfully distant lately that she would never know; she
only hoped he and Daniel were closer. And wished she could mend
their old friendship faster.
Daniel's head tilted in curiosity, "Not that I know of. Jack
hasn't mentioned anything. Why?"
Sam bit her lip, wondering if the colonel was keeping it to himself or
if she'd misinterpreted. "..Nothing"
She was on her way back to her lab after distracting Daniel's curiosity
with questions about their next mission, still wondering what she was
missing, when she froze, her heart clenching with sudden dread. "Oh
shit."
A passing airman heard the whisper and gave her a concerned frown,
"Ma'am?"
Quickly catching herself, Sam plastered on a manic grin and waved the
man away, "Just remembered I left the AC on at home."
If Teal'c had heard about her 'date' within four hours of it ending..
how could she have not thought that the colonel would find out?
Shit! So much for getting things back to a better version of
'normal'. She couldn't let him think she was moving on just as
she managed to catch her foolishness.
----
Jack opened his front door and blinked in surprise, "Carter."
The surprise took a notch toward shock when she pushed his shoulder and
stalked past with a growl, "I *hate* gossip."
Jack blinked again, staring at the long, jeans-clad legs kicking off
leather half-boots and crossing on his couch. Dragging his eyes
up to the uncertain blue eyes framed by wind-blow blond strands, he
slowly walked to the armchair besides her, drawling blandly, "Most
people do."
He wasn't sure whether to be worried about some new alien invasion or
just wary about having the sliver of agony in his heart driven in
deeper. Watching her twitching fingers, he was just thinking of
reaching for his bottle of JD -looked like they *both* needed nerves
settled- when she abruptly started spitting out facts with the same
rattling speed of her technical briefings.
"When I was on the Prometheus, I had hallucinations."
Jack winced in sympathy, "Ouch. *That*." No wonder she'd
been out of it when she'd woken up in the infirmary. Time wasn't
the only thing you lost track of when the nightmares they'd encountered
over the years came back and played with your head some more.
Sam looked at him in surprise at the strange response and made a rueful
face as she realized what he thought. "No. I almost wish I *had* had
visits from hell." His brows rose, obviously even more worried,
though at least that shuttered wariness had faded. As much as she
understood it now, it still hurt *her* to think of having hurt him..
damn they were screwed up. She took a calming breath, grabbing
onto her courage to keep herself moving forward with a quiet
voice. "No. Instead, I got dad and you telling me I deserve
to be happy."
She watched his expression go neutral again, emotions carefully wiped.
Yeah, she figured he'd recognize the pink-elephant-in-the-room-subject.
"You do."
The words were so soft she almost didn't hear them, but she nodded,
unsurprised, "Yes, I do, but I realized almost immediately that it
doesn't work that way. I actually want to *be* happy, not just
have the.. props to *pretend*. And I'm entirely willing to wait
for it." She stared at him inexorably, stiffening for the fight
she'd just engaged, "No matter how long it takes."
It was just as well she'd convinced herself he would *never* encourage
her to wait for him no matter what she said because his expression
hadn't changed when he shifted and she knew he was getting ready to say
something. She was proud of herself for following through on her
decision to actually put her cards on the table, and now that she had,
she was all for putting up a fight against *his* stubbornness.
She only hoped she was strong enough and convincing enough to do as
well as Teal'c had with her.
She glared at him, making her voice as threatening as she could ever
manage to use against him, "Before you open your mouth, Jack O'Neill,
you make sure what you're going to say is the truth, not what *you*
think is best for *me*"
He hardly hesitated, however, speaking in a quiet tone in which she
thought she actually *heard* pain; as well as his own stubbornness,
"You deserve better."
Sam shook her head, determined to get him off his path, "-Than to have
to wait? Yes I do. We all do."
But the colonel had always been a stubborn, self-sacrificing man, never
more than when he thought he was protecting those he cared about; and
she really couldn't expect the man who thumbed his nose at Goa'uld
threats to react to hers with any speed. "No. Better than
me."
Her eyes suddenly burned at the quiet words, at the utter conviction in
his sad eyes; aching to convince the damned exasperating, stubborn,
strong, courageous, caring, adorable- Sam took a shuddering
breath through clenched teeth, knowing he could see her reaction.
After the mess she'd started by giving up once, if seeing her exposed
could help him believe her, then she could stand to let her heart bleed
on her sleeve for a while; this man, of all people, she could
trust not to use this weakness against her, so she let the emotion come
through her voice. The loneliness, the bone-deep ache to hold
*him*, and be held, to love and play and *live*, all raw as she
whispered, trying to keep it from shaking, "No. I *deserve* what
I *want*."
She could see him starting to bend; expression opening up as he watched
her, his body literally bending ever so slightly toward her. But
his tone was still placating, trying to convince her, "Carter-"
"No," she quickly shifted to crouch in front of him, changing tactics,
"I know you have confidence issues Jack, but you do not get to pretend
that what I feel is wrong." Sam put her hands on his knees, her
voice softening, "I will wait until we can be together, or until one of
us *really* finds someone they want. I'm not going to settle for
anything else, and that's final."
For a few minutes, the tableau held; Jack visually trying to tell her
he wasn't worth it, Sam fiercely arguing the point, their years of
talking without words getting a different kind of workout. But
then the habit of listening to Carter, not to mention the warmth from
her palms rubbing gentle circles on his always-sore knees betrayed his
will to protect her at all costs and he weakened. Determined blue
eyes less than a foot from his and hands that bestowed on him the same
care she gave her doohickeys; the thought made a smile creep out of its
lock-up. He still wanted to protect her; still felt that she
deserved better, but she was no more a fan of emotional scenes than he
was and she'd taken a hell of a risk by doing this. He couldn't
make himself hurt her, not even for her own good; not now.
Such a small thing, but her hands on him, communicating physical care
he sometimes felt desperately hungry for, pushed him over the edge and
he closed his eyes as emotions rose up and he for once let them.
Sam's eyes widened as his expression changed, softening and opening up;
eyes so warm, and the tender smile crooking his lips was straight out
of her vision when he brought his hand up to cup her jaw. As was
the voice, "Samantha, anyone ever tell you you're damned stubborn?"
She smiled slowly, watching him as joy danced through her at the
admission in his eyes. Damn he looked good in happiness, and it
was a special heaven to know she'd given him that. She cleared
her throat, trying to clear the huskiness, "Yeah. A few people."
He nodded, still with that soft smile in his eyes; really and truly
Jack rather than the colonel. Even when he pulled back he didn't
look away from her. Unwilling to be the one to break the visual
link, she could just see in her peripheral vision his hands reaching
under his shirt and pulling his tags out.
He grinned, aware that she was multitasking on him. Then they
both looked down at the necklace in his hand when he pulled the chain
over his head, Sam blinking when she saw the dull blue mixed with the
expected ID cards.
He was pretty sure that that was delight he saw behind the surprise and
mentally patted himself on the back, speaking softly as he remembered
the brief fantasy he'd allowed himself to entertain that day, "Found
'em on P3R 769."
"And you wear them around your neck?" Dammit, was that her
voice? All soft and breathy like she was 16?? They might
not even mean what she was assuming! Though when she looked up
and met that openly caring.. *loving* gaze, she knew she wasn't wrong.
Jack winked, trying to lighten things up; the last thing he wanted was
to make Samantha cry, even if he'd rather it be over this than after
he'd made himself be cruel to her. "Oh you know, never know when
we'll get in trouble with some natives and I'll have to prove you
belong to us so some teenager doesn't get it into his head to kidnap
you..."
Sam choked an incipient giggle, smiling just as he'd intended, "I don't
know, trading your gun for me was pretty romantic."
Jack rolled his eyes and gave her a mock-glare, snarking, "Carter, your
sense of romance needs serious work."
That was too close to what she'd been thinking lately and she quieted,
watching him open the clasp and slide out one of the non-reflective
blueish metal rings. Some women might have preferred glitter, but
the two of them could wear these in the field; she could know she was
his while still being a soldier. Know he was hers no matter how
formal or commanding he was being. And it was lovely, shades of
colour mixing and merging around the band like the event horizon; she
tried to choke the urge to investigate what it was made of, accepting
that she'd crack on that front one day.. and realizing that Jack
O'Neill was smart enough, knew her well enough, to know it too.
He'd tease the hell out of her for it, but he wouldn't be hurt.
She smiled a little through the self-inflicted catch in her heart, she
only wished he understood how precious those little things he did were
to her.
Jack lifted one of her hands, his knee immediately feeling the chill at
its loss, and turned it over to rest palm up in his larger grip.
His jaw worked a couple times, torn between wanting to press his lips
to the gun callous on her palm and give himself into her keeping, and
wanting to free her to find someone younger, smarter, less messed
up. But it was too late, he finally believed her on that; he took
a breath and gave her a serious look instead, wishing his voice wasn't
so hoarse with mixed love and dread, "If you *ever* want to give
this back, you do. No hesitating, no worrying; you hand it back
and.." he looked down for a second as he put the ring in her hand and
closed her fingers on it.
When he looked back up at her, his eyes were somewhere between his
usual opaque hiding and that softer man that Sam so wanted to grab and
hold on to, to protect and cherish; stubborn, cracked voice and all,
"And I will wish you all the best. And *mean* it."
She nodded in answer, not bothering to deny his fantasy now that she'd
won the war. "Ditto," she leaned closer to him with a stubborn
look of her own, "And if *you* ever have enough of the wait, you put
that ring on your finger and we will right then and there pick
something to do to *fix* this." What she'd give for him to do
that right now...
But he just nodded and she knew he never would; damned stubborn old
honourable fool. She knew that she'd be lucky if he didn't try to
pretend he'd found someone just so she'd be 'free'.
"Ditto."
They were so close, and he still looked so different.. The desire
to close the distance and find out if a concussion could hold a candle
to reality pulled at her. And whether he read her or had his own
dreams, she could *feel* him wanting the same, the cord of need and
longing so tight and heavy between them that it *hurt* to stay
back. But they did; eyes locked, desperately unwilling to
separate, to let go of the painful pressure that was as close, as
intimate as they'd ever gotten.. and with their crazy deadly
lives, it could be all they ever had. That silent whisper tried
to make them give in -what if it never happens- but they held.
When Sam's eyes started to burn again, she made herself withdraw,
stumbling back with a choked moan of distress at the break until one of
Jack's hands latched onto hers.
Eyes swinging back to his, she caught the second of denial that had
caused his grab before he buried it and pulled the colonel's mask over
his features, relaxing his grip into a casual touch to steady
her. She felt her own mask slide into place in response, her body
straightening, holding his hand only until she was solidly on her feet
and then letting go.
The separation still stung, but she was strong; they both were.
With the promise of some tomorrow solidified between them, she trusted
that they could get back to a friendship of sorts. Could get back
to enjoying the fact that they were at least side by side, at least
some of the time.
Sam puled her dog tags over her head and added his ring to the
necklace. Refusing to wonder what the medical staff, the only
ones who might see it and recognize it, would think.
"You could put it in a little sac." She looked up and met his
rueful gaze as he fingered his own and muttered, "I wasn't thinking
about how it would look."
She glared, closing her fist on the metal promise, "No.
Mine." She kept glaring, challenging him to deny her claim, her
wish to lay at least *that* public a claim on him. If her next
medical was the day that they had to fight the red tape to be with each
other, then so be it, she was done running away. They might not
be able to advance yet, but this was where she was defending the pass;
no further.
It only took a second for one of his little-boy grins to escape as he
accepted her fierce ownership and rose, standing well within her
personal space; not quite the man who wanted to provide her with
romance, but a version of the colonel that had his eyes.
He wrapped his own hand around hers, letting his fingers touch the skin
of her chest for a breathless moment of sensual contact before he
whispered gently, "Yours."
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