Registered: Nov 2001
Location: Topeka, KS, USA
Me and my bright ideas. I know Janet?s pissed, but gimme a break. How the hell was I to know the natives would show up and start shooting? I mean SG-5 said the planet was uninhabited. We?re going to have a little talk about the meaning of RECON later. My head is killing me. If I didn?t know better I?d swear she was giving me sugar pills instead of painkillers. And Hammond, he knows I didn?t do this on purpose but he?s hacked off too. All in all this mission sucked. So much for a milk run. All I really want to do is go home and drown my sorrows in a few beers, a pizza, and some nice violent hockey. But I can?t. Not after what Danny told me. I know Sam got us out of there, but it wasn?t right. Dammit she knows better than to expose herself like that. Teal?c even agreed, what she did was brave but crazy. I knew a guy once who acted like that, throwing himself into harm?s way every opportunity he could. I wrote the condolence letter to his wife a few weeks later. The talk I?d promised myself back on the planet was going to happen, no matter how far she retreated. If Janet doesn?t let me out of this damned infirmary soon, I?ll let myself out. Hell she can?t get any madder than she is now.
Finally she let me go. Of course I lied to her, told her Daniel would drive me home. But Danny?d already left. As long as she doesn?t check the sign in sheet I?ll be OK. I pull up to Sam?s place, it?s dark but I knew she has to be in there. I mean, not to sound cruel, but she doesn?t have much of a social life. If she?s not out with Danny, me or Janet, she?s not out. I knock first, then I try the door. It?s not locked. I walk in slowly. I can smell the fireplace and see the flickering of the flames reflected off the wall. I walk into her living room. She?s sitting on the couch, watching the fire, still wearing her torn and bloody fatigues. I take off my jacket and sit beside her. It?s then that I see the bottle. I pick it up. Whisky, not her usual drink. Sam?s more the beer, wine or margarita type.
?Good stuff,? I say, putting it back on the table. She gives me a half-hearted one-shouldered shrug. Janet?s sling is lying discarded on the coffee table. She?s not going to like that. ?Ya know, I?ll bet the painkillers you?re on don?t mix well with whisky.? Another shrug. OK, time for another tactic. ?You saved my butt today. Course you were also pretty stupid about it.? I pick up the bottle and take a swig of the whisky. ?Exposing yourself like that, hell my drill sergeant woulda shot me himself for being so stupid.? She just sits there, taking another sip from her glass. I force the next words out. God let me be wrong. ?Unless of course that?s what you had planned. Little suicide in the line of duty.? That gets a reaction. She reaches over and yanks the bottle out of my hand.
?Get the hell out of my house,? she snaps. Damn, I wanted to be wrong.
?You don?t really expect me to leave you here like this?? She just snorts and shakes her head.
?Wouldn?t be the first time,? she mutters, almost too quietly for me to hear.
?Now what the hell does that mean?? She just sinks deeper into the sofa, crossing her arms over her middle. I reach over and grab her arm, pulling her around so I can see her face. ?God Damn it Carter, talk to me! Let me help you!? She yanks her arm out of my grasp, gets up from the sofa slamming her drink on the table and stalks back to her bedroom. I hear her pad back a few seconds later. I get up to face her. Ice runs down my spine when I hear the all too familiar snap click of a pistol being cocked. Shit, is she going to chase me out at gun point? She walks up to me and hands it to me, butt first.
?Why don?t you finish it then?? she says in a dead little voice I hope never to hear again. I?m looking at this gun held in her hands, hands that are amazingly steady considering how little whisky is in that bottle.
?Finish what?? I ask, trying to wrap my brain around her reasoning. What the hell is she talking about? She looks up at me, a question in her eyes.
?The only good Goa?uld is a dead Goa?uld,? she states. Those eight little words...God I barely remember saying them. Surely she doesn?t...oh shit she does. I reach out with hands that shake and take the pistol from her. She watches me, tears welling up as she waits for the bullet she thinks I?m going to send her way. I meet and hold her eyes as I reach down to release the clip. She starts as it hits the floor with a tiny thud. I clear the chamber and toss the now harmless weapon across the room. She follows it with her eyes and looks back at me with a lost, clueless look on her face. I close the distance between us and put my hands on her quivering shoulders, careful not to put pressure on the bandage there. I wait until she looks in my eyes.
?Sam. I. Don?t. Want. You. Dead.? I tell her, hoping my honest feelings get through to her. She wrinkles her brow and asks me a question in a lost, helpless voice.
?Then why didn?t you come?? she cries as the tears spill down her cheeks and her knees give away. She sinks to the floor at my feet as I stand there trying to comprehend what she just said. Oh sweet Jesus, she thought we left her to die in that cell. She thought we?d abandoned her like a broken toy or dirty shirt. I look down at the woman in front of me, her hands held over her face, her shoulders shaking with heart-wrenching sobs. I join her on the floor and pull her hands away. I can hear her whispered words. ?I kept hoping...I told Jolinar you wouldn?t let us die...but you never came...you wanted me to die...it would be so much neater...just like Jonus...nice, neat ending.? I wrap her in my arms and hug her tight.
?Oh God Sam, I?m so sorry. We thought you were safe. There were a dozen checkpoints between him and you. Two armed SFs, you should have been safe. I thought you were safe. I?m so sorry...so, so sorry,? I say as I start to rock her, like I used to rock Charlie after one of his bad dreams.
?It hurt Jack, he hurt me so bad. He made me do such horrible things. I hate him, I hate what I did.?
?Ssh, he won?t ever hurt you again. He?s dead, gone. You beat him.? She pulls back from me.
?You don?t understand. He?s not gone. I still feel him inside me. He?s in my dreams...He may not control me but he?s still here.?
?You mean flashbacks?? She shakes her head,
?No, when I dream I see places I?ve never been, people I?ve never met. I think of words I?ve never heard.?
?You?re remembering things you?ve heard or seen from the other teams. MALP images you?ve seen...? I say, trying to make sense of what she?s telling me. She shakes her head again.
?I?ve watched them all. These are places we?ve never been.? How the hell do I respond to that? Tell her it?s OK to have a few alien dreams?...on second thought, why not? Maybe if she stops fighting them it won?t be so bad.
?Look Sam, maybe these dreams aren?t all bad.? she gives me that skeptical look of hers. ?You said the...Tok whatever fight the Goa?uld...? She nods.
?They?re like rebels.?
?That?s also what Teal?c said. Maybe these rebels can help us. Instead of fighting the memories...explore them. There might be a name or a place...somewhere we can start to look.?
?I?ll try...? she starts when I interrupt her.
?No. DON?T TRY. Just let it happen. Maybe if you don?t fight them, they won?t be so bad. If it works, OK. If it doesn?t...That?s OK too.? She closes her eyes and I hold her close for a few minutes. Then she sniffles, using the sleeve of her T-shirt to wipe at the tears still on her face. ?Why don?t you go get cleaned up. I?ll scrounge for something to eat, OK?? She nods and gets up off the floor and goes back to the bathroom. I just sit there for a second. I really can?t believe what happened. How the hell could she...no Jack, getting mad isn?t going to help things. This whole Nasyia mission was one giant FUBAR from the very beginning. Somehow Jolinar shattered the trust between Sam and me. The best thing is to concentrate on fixing it. I get up, the stitches in my left leg telling me just how much they don?t like the way I?ve been sitting. Hope I didn?t tear any out. Janet?s still so pissed she?d probably use the stapler off her desk. As I limp across the floor my foot kicks something. I look down to see the discarded clip from her 9mm pistol. I almost hurl on her carpet. I bend down, pick up the clip and shove it into my back pocket. A host of nightmarish ?what-ifs? run through my brain. OK, snap out of it O?Neill. Feel guilty later, fix it now.
I start a pot of coffee and search for something to cook in her fridge. Damn she has less food in her cabinets than I do. I finally settle on scrambled eggs and toast, it?s that or moldy Chinese and really freezer-burned ice cream.
A few minutes later I see a sheepish looking Sam standing in the doorway. She?s changed from the fatigues she?d been wearing to sweat pants and an oversized sweat shirt. Shit, it just made her look more like a little kid.
?Perfect timing,? I say as I slide the eggs onto a couple of plates. ?Hope you like your eggs scrambled. Every time I try for over easy, well they always end up scrambled.?
?Scrambled?s fine,? she says. I pick up the plates and head towards the living room. I motion towards the couch. She sits down and I hand her the plate, sitting mine on the coffee table. While she?d been in the bathroom I?d cleaned up the glass and partial bottle of whisky. I?d also stuck her gun in my coat pocket. I still don?t know if I?ll take it with me or not. If she notices my tiny bit of housecleaning, she doesn?t say anything. I go and get the coffee. When I come back to the living room I see her chasing the eggs around the plate with her fork.
Denise's Fan Fiction
Let Them Eat Cake!
Where in the World is George Hammond?
Interested in a Virtual SG-1 Season 6?
For more info go to: http://www.spacemonkeys-gate.com/vs6/
'Hey, Anubis, this is your agent. You're playing it way over the top, can you get serious please?'
Report this post to a moderator | ? + *