Sam read the look in Daniel's eyes, she herself already feeling the pain clamp tight like a vice around her heart. They hadn't been able to save him. Not even Daniel's undeniable talent for talking them out of tough situations had been enough. He was gone. "I'm so sorry Sam, I did everything that I could." His words cut her deeply but the desolation of his pitch ripped her into tiny pieces. She didn't even try to speak because she knew that every ounce of her energy was being used to stop the tears that smarted behind her eyes from falling to the floor of the Gate Room. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye to him. An ironic laugh twisted inside her throat, this is what happened when she wasn't there to keep them out of trouble. Daniel interrupted her thoughts. "He asked me to give this to you Sam, it was his last request," his own voice clogged with emotion. "They wouldn't allow us to stay for the…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to, every single person in the room understood his meaning. Holding out the tatty piece of scrap that could only just pass for paper with a shaking hand, Daniel found that he couldn't even look her in the eye, so acute was the guilt that he hadn't been able to save his best friend. Sam took the proffered note, afraid of what she might read, but even more afraid of not reading. Standing silent and still in front of the gate, in a room crowded with mourners, Sam's eyes skirted across the familiar bold strokes of her CO. Finishing the letter, she drooped it like it was scalding her, she turned and ran, just to go away from the gate and from people. General Hammond picked up the note. The black "ink" had smudged as her hands moved down the page as she had read, but by far the most poignant sight was the water marked black rivulet's that has taken residence on the parchment. Her tears for *her* Colonel. Feeling the sting of tears threaten his own composure Hammond merely nodded at the man stood before him, as he too raced out of the room to go and find his devastated comrade and friend.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Daniel found her quickly enough, wiping her eyes and leaving black ink stains as she sobbed to herself and pulled her coat from its hook in the gear up room. The hook that had always resided by one that would never more be used. That alone was enough to remove all eloquent speech from the archaeologist's mouth. "Sam…" being the only articulation he could make.
"Show me the others Daniel, please." Her plea wrecked any notion of common sense, of advising her to wait until she was in a better frame of mind to see what Daniel knew was waiting. For beneath the surface of tears and pain was a steeled determination that spoke of bodily harm if he refused. Nodding his assent, he opened the door and led her to that which she sought.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*
Walking through the achingly familiar layout of his house, Sam had all but forced Daniel to leave her alone. She let her hands trail across his possessions, the neatness indicative of a long and glorious military career. She could feel him all around her, in every single aspect of the house, she could smell his scent and if she tried hard enough she could imagine that he was coming back to her. That she would wake up and find him sitting in his favorite chair, chess board in front of him and some horrendous opera playing in the background. Smiling through her tears, she headed for his bedroom. Reaching the open door she stopped, suddenly shaken by the intimacy of entering the room she had dreamed of entering with him so many times before. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself through the door and to the wardrobe. Not allowing herself the bitter luxury of acknowledging her environment, she located the box she knew was there and pulled it out through the mass of Ski's, skates, and various pieces of hockey gear. Knowing instinctively that there was only once place in the world fitting for her to read Jack O'Neill's thoughts and feelings, she curled herself into his bed, hugging his pillows to her, allowing his scent to invade her mind once more as she opened the box with shaking fingers. With each letter that she read her tears increased proportionally until she was sobbing loud and hard into the feathers clutched tightly to her chest. His words, like him, where straight to the point, pulling no punches, but beneath that tough exterior dwelled a man who was unbelievably sweet and vulnerable. She wasn't just reading words, she was reading *him*. He loved her so totally and so deeply that she was shaken to her core. She could actually feel his yearning, his frustration, and most of all his love. How could he possibly even consider that she would burn them? With unseeing eyes she groped blindly for something with which to convey her own feelings. Her mind's eye giving her images of him bent low scribbling notes to her, then he would raise his head and look into her eyes and smile that smile that was just for her. Through all her imaginings, one sentence kept playing over and over in her ears.
"Thank you. Thank you for showing me how to love again"
Still allowing her tears to fall unchecked, she picked up his final letter and wrote underneath his final words to her…
"Thank you Jack, thank you for letting me. *Love* Sam"
Placing the pen back on the dresser, she pulled his pillow closer and crushing her own reply in her hand, cried herself into a restless sleep filled of images of the man she had always loved.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*
Sam awoke disorientated and confused; a blissful few seconds of ignorance before the crushing torment of reality dawned. She had to get out; she had to leave this place, if only for the sake of her sanity. Carefully putting her letters back in the box she swung her legs from his bed and numbly wandered back through the house, unwilling to take in anything other than her loss. She had to get back to the base; so many things had to be done. Formal reports, funeral arrangements, emptying of the office he hardly ever used. The scientist and soldier in her had taken over from the woman, years of training allowed her to kick into autopilot and to forget, at least for the moment. Walking without seeing, she made her way to the front door, but her peripheral vision caught something that wasn't meant to be there, something that *shoudn't* be there. Turning sharply she focussed her finally dry gaze to his favorite chair, only to feel her legs buckle as she took in the sight before her. He was there, sitting quietly, a somber expression on his face. "NO!" her mind screamed, "your dreaming, he's dead Sam, dead and gone!" Before she could bring her language centres in on the action, the figure spoke, reading her mind once more in that unspoken communication that had severed them so well so many times before. "I'm not dead Sam, this really is me." He stood and took a cautious step towards her. Her eyes showed the questions that she could not articulate to him. Her tears fell once more as the military mask slipped away. His smile was lopsided but intense.
"They relented Sam, apparently Space Monkey is pretty good at the whole "diplomacy" thing after all. I got home earlier on, but I didn't want to wake you, you seemed "busy" His smile still didn't quite reach his eyes, as his gazed flowed over the woman stood before him, falling still on the box she held tightly.
"So I guess you didn't burn it then?" He knew that his attempt at humour was poor, but non-the-less he was rewarded with a hint of a grin. She couldn’t help the grin; he always made her smile. Even in the most intense of situations, he had a power to make her smile. She wondered if he had ever known how deeply she cherished that skill he had. She finally brought her eyes to meet his, knowing instinctively that he was real, even without the reassurance of touch. It was those eyes, eyes that she had always fought internal battles with herself over. To drown or not to drown, that had always been the question. Just before she let herself finally answer it and fall into those velvety brown depths, a movement of his hand caught her attention. Following the movement, she focused on the tattered piece of almost paper that he held in his hand as he spoke.
"Sam, did you mean it?" The vulnerability lacing his words captured her heart as her mind sought to understand. The letter, he had read his… her… their... letter. Looking into his eyes once more she stood rooted to the floor, shock and relief and love all vying for prominancy. He shifted on the balls of his feet, but never took his eyes from the tear soaked crystal puddles of light that stood before him.
"Sam," he emphasized his words, "did you mean it?" Her smile was sudden and it hit him like an electric shock, paralyzing him while setting him free at one and the same time.
"Yes sir, Colonel, sir."
Her smile glinted, threatening to break into tears once more with the poignancy of the moment. Only this time she didn’t get chance as she was hauled hard and fast against a solid wall of body and enveloped in strong arms that held the promise of never letting go.
"I love you Sam Carter, I'm just sorry that I didn't have the courage to tell you, that you had to go through this to find out how much you have, do and always will mean to me."
Lips found lips quickly and minds and hearts where lost and gained and strengthened as passions flared. Pulling himself away from her with a power he never knew he possessed, he lost himself in her smell, taste and touch as he whispered: "This time 'til death does do us part." His answer was not in words, but as her lips captured his once more he didn't need words at all.
*****
The End.
Story Notes: AUTHOR: Linz (lindsaymallen@yahoo.com)
SPOILERS: none
SEASON: before season 4
ARCHIVE: SJA, Heliopolis, others only have to ask.
NOTES: This little ditty is the result of Becca showing me her new fic one night in AIM. It instantaneously inspired to me write this sequel. I just hope it lives up to the platform that Becca set when she wrote the original "Letter". And a special thanks to Bryn for her beta'ing... great job, now go write :)
SPOILERS: none
SEASON: before season 4
ARCHIVE: SJA, Heliopolis, others only have to ask.
NOTES: This little ditty is the result of Becca showing me her new fic one night in AIM. It instantaneously inspired to me write this sequel. I just hope it lives up to the platform that Becca set when she wrote the original "Letter". And a special thanks to Bryn for her beta'ing... great job, now go write :)
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 ]