Consciousness after a long lack of it does not come easily. I should know, since I have a headache that doesn't even compare with some of the headaches that Sam's explanations have given me in the past. I'm not sure how long I was adrift, but I suddenly realise that I am not laying on the ground where that Gou'ald'ssecond in charge put me to death, but rather on some sort of a cold metal surface.
That still pisses me off. He said his name was Apophis and that either we'd die or worship him as god. I don't even barely worship the God that I was raised to believe in most of the time and this alien son of a bitch thinks I'm going to--
Wait, back up. Death. I was dead. What the hell?
I open my eyes, look at the creature in front of me, and nearly lose consciousness again. Oh-kay, this is a new one. No one told me that when I went to hell, that I'd be seeing movie aliens.
Time passes and the thing is still looking at me, and I'm wondering what the fuck have I done this time. I mean, I've done some things to piss Sam off on occasion, and Kawalsky and I have gotten into a few fights, but even they didn't have a damn glare like this thing has. Ugh. I open my eyes and cock an eyebrow at the thing.
And in response to my gesture, the damn thing had the nerve to disappear along with his ship, and I'm back in the ruins of Colorado Springs. Great. Doesn't this just figure? If Sam ever meets them, I sure as hell hope they deal with her better.
They probably would. After all, she is a scientist.
While I'm on the thought of her, where *is* Sam and how far am I from the SGA? If those Goa'uld bastards have done anything to her, I swear, I'll find them and rip them apart with my bare hands. Although, as I look around, I see no evidence that there's any of them left.
For crying out loud, how long have I been *gone* anyway?
With a sigh, I pull myself up off the ground and take a good look around. Yep, just as destroyed as it was the last time I checked. Nice to know at least that some things haven't changed.
So... where the hell am I again?
A flash of memory teases at me and I lunge for it. We had just left the SGA to survey the surrounding area, and Sam was kicking herself in the ass because she didn't have the answer. I told her not to worry about it, that we'd take care of it, but I was trying to placate her, and she knew it.
They caught us off guard, and took us to an abandoned building that had once been a warehouse about a mile outside of the mountain. I cringe at the rest of the memory; before Sam's and Kawalsky's eyes, I am taken down to my knees for my insubordinance, and I glare at the creature that dared to reduce me to this level.
His glance moves to Sam, and the look in its eye is enough to drive me more than a little insane. Hell, Sam's suggested that I was that, anyway. So, he points at her with his staff weapon, and I lunge at him. Quicker than a lightning bolt, I'm struck. After that, I know nothing until I wake up on that ship... thing.... whatever.
I sigh and let the memory go, even as I wonder if my and Sam's apartment still looks the same as we left it on our anniversary night. Y'know, with the candles and the table set and the romantic mood that I scorn during the daylight hours but enjoy at night when it's just the two of us. Either that or it looks like the rest of this place: totally blasted. Hell, Independence Day looked better than this!
Damn, but I loved that place. After Sara and I split, calling irreconcilable differences, I couldn't bear to be in that house that we had shared off and on for seven years. Even if the court hadn't given the house to her, I still couldn't live there. I would have sold it first.
However, she wasn't too happy with me when I suggested to her that we should let Judge Wapner do the divorce trial. Then again, my suggestion of going on TV's Divorce Court didn't thrill her either. Geez, you'd think that after knowing me for fifteen years, she'd know me better than that.
Sam certainly does, and she hasn't known me even half that long. It's only been three years since we met, but it feels like it's been at least twice that long. She's pulled my ass outta the fire too many times for me to count, and I can only imagine the guilt that's on her shoulders for not being able to save me this time.
The thought of her in that much pain and guilt only speeds my steps, and I continue with a single-minded intensity until I reach the steps of the abandoned SGA. I stop there for a moment, frozen with indecision. Yeah, yeah, Colonel Smartass has moments of indecision, too.
Then comes the sound of booted footsteps and the safety being released from a handgun. A voice, tinged with a New York accent that I'd know in my sleep yells out a command of "Freeze!"
At the sound of the voice, I can't help but grin. It's Kawalsky. Tucking my arms behind my head in a leisurely position, I wait. It doesn't take long for him to cautiously approach me, then lower his weapon. "Jack?"
"Yeah..."
"Which one are you?" There is amusement mixed with confusion on my friend's face. I just want to know what party I've missed.
"Which one do you *think*?" I look at him with a mock-scathing look on my face that hopefully covers the curiosity. Last time I checked, Kawalsky didn't ask dumb-ass questions like that.
He looks at me for a moment, hard, and shakes his head. "I thought you were dead."
"Yeah, well, I'm feeling better now."
He does a double take, but covers it well. "Y'sure 'bout that Colonel?"
I arch my eyebrows at him, and give him a look like he's dense. Which, at the moment, I'm inclined to believe. "Cut the crap, Kawalsky. Where's Sam?"
A look crosses my friend's face as he shoves the handgun back into the holster that suggests that he wasn't really sure what was going on until I asked where my wife was. Well, what the hell did he expect me to do? He knows how overprotective I am about Sam about as well as he knows how much she hates it.
"She was in the Gate room las' I checked," he tells me as we stride down the abandoned and wrecked corridors. "She's been there ever since the General ordered us all on stand down."
"And, Kawalsky, how long ago was that?"
"I'd say an hour..."
I give him a glance that's been long understood in our friendship to mean "leave me the hell alone until I tell you not to", and he heads in the opposite direction. Something's muttered about checking on Doc Frasier in the infirmary, and I ignore him. Right now, I have one purpose, and one purpose only.
Samantha Carter-O'Neill, my wife. Once I would have cursed her for choosing to hyphenate her last name, but now, I wouldn't have it any other way. Any other way wouldn't be her, after all. I'm surprised that she even allowed for my last name at all. However, to the SGA at large, she is and always will be Doc Carter.
I hear the sounds of crying and quicken my steps, and for a moment, I just stand there and watch her, feeling my heart break anew at the sound. Her arms are wrapped around her waist, and her head is bowed, allowing that long blonde hair that I love playing with in the mornings and any other time that she'll allow it, to fall across her face.
As she lifts her head to look at the Stargate in front of her, I cross the room almost silently and wrap my arms around her tightly. When I feel a jolt of surprise rush through her, and can practically feel the increased heartbeat as I lay my head against her head, muffling my laughter into her hair.
There's a moment's silence before her voice asks, "Jack?" in a tone that indicates that she's afraid to believe that it's really me. I can't say I blame 'er much. After all, look how I died, in a forced kneel with my head blown off.
Well, she always did make the comment that if I didn't have my head attached to my shoulders, I'd lose it... I shake my head at the ridiculousness of the mental comment, and muffle another chuckle into her hair before responding with a low, "Yeah?"
Her mind is racing even now. I can practically hear it, as I stand there. Finally, she manages a stuttered, "How?"
I just shake my head and tease her, "I don't pretend to understand it. That's your job." Then I'm half-serious, "One minute I'm dead and the world's coming to an end, and then I'm back and it's not. You know me and how easily confused I get."
At that, she laughs, that delighted laugh that I love to hear, and spins in my arms, wrapping herself around me. Later, I might just admit to myself how good this feels, but I doubt it. For a long time, I just look down at her, and ruffle her hair.
Then with an agreed smile, we leave the Gate room, and head back to temporary quarters.
"You know I'll have to inform Hammond, and he'll want an explanation," Sam tells me as she lays down across the bed, an exhausted look crossing her face.
"Sam, you'll come up with something."
"Like I always do?" she asks me with a smile. Finally I just shake my head and curl up in the bed behind her, allowing her to curl into me.
"Yeah..."
I feel a jab at my ribs, then a tickling motion that has me struggling to keep a straight face, "Maybe so, but this time, you're going to *help* me with the explanation."
"Yes, Doc..."
There's a murmured, "Don't call me that," before she drifts into an exhausted slumber.
I just hold her, and enjoy feeling her close. For now, that's enough.
It's more than I ever expected to feel again, and I thank that God that I had seldom believed in even *before* the moment that the Goa'uld takeover began that I'm allowed to feel it again.
Everything else will come later, and as with everything, I'm sure it'll be more complicated.
Finally, I close my eyes as well, and drift into slumber after my wife, a smile on my face.
********************
-End-
Story Notes: SPOILERS: Point of View
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 ]