Never thought I'd find someone to move me,
Someone who could see right through me.
You found your way into my head
Where even angels fear to tread.
~Angels Fear to Tread - Bryan Adams
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late evening when SG1 walked down the ramp in the depths of Cheyenne Mountain. The mission had been particularly routine, the only thing worthy of note being the temper of their commanding officer. Colonel Jack O'Neill's mood had been thunderous, only speaking when necessary, and even then abruptly, snapping at his team-mates. After a few hours, Teal'c, Jackson and Carter had lapsed into silence, not wanting to get their heads bitten off.
"Wormhole disengaged."
Sam Carter glanced over her shoulder at the Stargate. She sighed to herself, relieved to be home and about to be off duty.
General Hammond was waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "Report, Colonel."
"Nothing of note, Sir. I recommend we debrief in the morning."
"Very well. Debriefing at 0900 tomorrow. SG1, you are dismissed."
Jack turned on his heel and marched straight out of the gate room without a another word. The General was about to say something when Daniel asked, "I wonder who rattled his cage?"
Before Teal'c had a chance to say anything Sam added, "Figure of speech." Shaking her head, she continued, "I've never seen him like this. I'm worried about him."
General Hammond looked puzzled.
Sam explained, "He's hardly spoken a word all day."
"And the ones he has said weren't very polite," added Daniel wearily.
"Well, if he's like it on duty again, I want to know." The General was crisp and business like but the way he was staring at the still swinging doors showed more than professional concern. Colonel O'Neill was the leader of his best team, he counted him as a friend. Frowning, the General turned to go. "0900, people. See you in the morning."
As he left, Sam turned to her team-mates. "Do you think one of us should go after him?"
"I do not believe O'Neill would wish that."
"No, but he might *need* it, Teal'c," added Daniel pensively, his arms folded across his chest.
"So who's going to go?" asked Sam.
Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked at her hopefully.
She shrugged. "OK, I'll go. You owe me one, Dr. Jackson."
Daniel grinned. "Make sure he's all right, Sam."
xxxxx
Sam soon found that the Colonel had already left the base. She got changed, found an elevator and made her way to the car park. As she turned the key and her car burst into life she began to have second thoughts about what she was about to do. Was dropping in on the Colonel unannounced when he was in such a foul mood really such a good idea? No, she had to go, she'd promised Daniel and Teal'c and anyway, she was worried about him too.
Driving along the dark streets, she could feel her stomach beginning to churn. As she came to a stop outside Jack's house she turned off the engine and looked up at the house. It was in darkness but his car was on the drive. At least he was home. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she walked up to the front door and knocked quickly, not giving herself chance to change her mind.
There was no reply. She knocked again, harder this time. There was still no answer. He had to be in. She decided to try the door. Swallowing hard, unsure of the reception she was likely to get, she gripped the door handle and turned it. The door swung open.
"Colonel! Sir!"
The house was dark, the street lights streaming through the windows throwing weird shadows on the walls. As she struggled to see in the dim light she made out a shape slumped on the sofa.
"Sir?"
Closing the door behind her, Sam took a couple of steps towards him.
"Sir?" she asked again, her voice almost a whisper.
Crossing the room she could hear him breathing. As she got closer she could smell alcohol, probably whisky. She found a lamp on a nearby table and switched it on. Jack was sitting on the sofa, cradling a glass in his hands. He continued to stare at his drink, then took a gulp of the amber liquid. He grimaced as the fire poured down his throat.
Sam tried again. "Colonel? What's the problem? We're worried about you."
He still didn't look up.
"Sir... Jack. Please talk to me. It always helps."
His head flew up at her words. His expression was dark and vicious. "That's a load of crap, Carter, and you know it. Leave me alone."
Sam involuntarily stepped back, shocked by his outburst. His head slumped back on his chest and he took another swig of whisky. She could hardly recognise the man in front of her. Where was the man who was self confident to the point of arrogance, the man who had an irreverent wisecrack for every situation?
She licked her lips, then spoke softly, "I don't think you would have left the door open if you didn't want visitors."
"Accidental," he mumbled into his glass.
"You must have heard me knock, you could have stopped me from coming in."
Jack looked up at her, his face contorted with anger. "Hell, Carter! What gives you the right to interrogate me, second guess my actions?"
"I'm your friend. I care about you."
He glanced up at her and she watched as the anger drained from his face, leaving his eyes full of pain and hurt. Sam felt a pull on her heart, a need to reach out. She lowered herself onto the sofa beside him. When he didn't move she put her arm over his shoulder and gently squeezed. She felt him tense, so she whispered, "Its OK. You can tell me or not tell me. Its up to you."
Slowly, he began to relax. When she squeezed again, he turned slightly and rested his head on her shoulder. Bringing her other arm around him, she enveloped him in a comforting hug. Sam couldn't help being reminded of holding Cassandra.
"I'm sorry, Captain," he murmured. "I've been rude and bad tempered today, haven't I?"
"Oh yeah!" Sam agreed.
"I think I owe you an explanation." He pulled away from her embrace and took her hands in his. He began to gently massage the back of her hands with his thumbs. Then he cleared his throat. "Today is Charlie's birthday. He would have been eleven. It brought back a lot of memories."
"Oh, Sir. I don't know what to say..."
"You don't need to say anything."
There was an awkward silence. Sam stared at their hands, still entwined on his lap. Perhaps if she got him to talk it would help. She decided to risk it.
"What was he like?" she asked quietly.
Jack's head jerked up. "You mean Charlie?"
She nodded.
"He was a great kid, full of life. He loved baseball and riding his bike." Jack had a wistful, faraway look in his eyes as he spoke. "He was always outdoors. He behaved himself at school but he was no great scholar, perhaps he would have been when he got older. Too much like his old man, I guess."
"Do you have a photo?"
Jack stood up and opened a drawer in a nearby dresser. He found what he wanted immediately. Picking up the photo, he handed it to Sam.
"Oh, he's gorgeous." She studied the photo carefully. "More like his Mom than you. And what a lovely smile. That copy or whatever you could call it was a good likeness."
"Yes, he was. But it wasn't Charlie."
There was an awkward pause.
As Sam handed the photo back she said, "Why don't you have this on display where you can see it?"
He frowned, then looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. Sometimes, particularly at first, I didn't want to be reminded."
"Perhaps you could remember the good times?"
"Yeah, there were plenty of those. He used to say the cutest things sometimes. Once he told me that he hadn't lost his teddy bear, he just didn't know where it was." Jack smiled at the memory. "And like most kids, he'd never let me get away with missing bits out of bedtime stories, he knew them all by heart."
Sam watched Jack as he reminisced about Charlie. His face had lit up with a mixture of love and pride as he told her about his son. She was really only half listening, more intent on him than his words.
"One time when he was little he fell off his swing - he stood up and it swung back and hit him on the head, knocking him over. Then he stood up again and it hit him on the back of the head again. He did that three times before I managed to get to him."
"Was he hurt?"
"He wasn't very happy! But kids are resilient, he was OK after an ice cream."
Sam laughed.
"But we did end up at the hospital with him a couple of times."
When he saw Sam's face he added hurriedly, "Nothing serious, just childhood scrapes. Once he needed stitches in a cut and the other time he swallowed a cent."
Sam stared incredulously. "He swallowed a cent?"
"Yeah, one minute he was holding it, the next thing we knew he'd put it in his mouth..." Jack's face lit up with a grin. "I know, it does sound ridiculous."
"He was OK?"
He nodded. Sam was relieved to see Jack was able to talk about Charlie. Keeping it all bottled up couldn't be healthy.
He interrupted her thoughts. "For crying out loud, I'm being a lousy host. Would you like a coffee?"
They sipped their coffees and talked long into the night, Jack telling stories about Charlie.
"... and it turned out he was allergic to the cough medicine." Glancing across at Sam he noticed she was trying to hide a yawn. "I'm sorry, I'm boring you."
"No, you're not. Really you're not. It's late. We've had a long day. And we've got to be back at SGC first thing in the morning. I guess I should be going."
She stood up to leave, and following her, Jack caught her hand. "Sam?"
She looked at him, her head slightly to one side. "Yeah?"
"I guess I needed someone to talk to. Thank you."
Sam smiled, taken aback at his honesty.
He leant down and kissed her on the cheek. "Perhaps we could do this again sometime?"
A little surprised, she replied softly, "I'd like that."
She felt him gently squeeze her hand as he said, "And tomorrow I'm going to get a frame for Charlie's photo."
The End.
Story Notes: Spoilers: Cold Lazarus
Season/Sequel info: Second Season
Season/Sequel info: Second Season
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]