Jacob Carter was dead, to begin with. Okay, maybe not actually dead, but he was far far away, far out of the reach of such mortal considerations as Christmas, and so very much out of the way of things that it seemed surprising to Jack that Jacob was standing there, in his den, looking at him with that patient/tolerant/faintly amused look his daughter had inherited from him.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Earlier that day, Christmas Eve in fact, the SGC had rung to the sound of Jack O'Neill arguing, very loudly.
"I mean it!" he yelled. "There is no way, while that .... two-faced, lying, son of a bi.."
"Not in front of Cassandra.." Janet warned,
"Snake is in the White House that I am staying here!"
Janet looked at Sam, looked at Jack, and decided to take her daughter somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. Like the loudest rock concert she could find. Anywhere, but here.
"Sir, he's not actually in the White House yet." Sam patiently explained. "He hasn't even got the nomination yet. He may not.."
"Oh, he will." Jack insisted, slinging his bag over his shoulder and storming into the corridor. "That slimy little bastard knows all the tricks, and once he's there, this place, and everyone in it, is going down the pan. Probably literally in your case."
"You can't just leave. Without you, many of the people in this base would be dead!"
"Well, they'd better die then, and stop bothering me!" he said angrily, charging down the corridor.
"Sir..." Sam said, hurrying down the corridor after him.
"No! No Sir, or Colonel, or anything like that! Just Jack! I quit, and nothing you can say can make ne stay here, under that man's - and I use the term 'man' loosely - chain of command!"
For a moment they stood there, in the corridor, utterly alone, utterly silent, as Sam tried to think of the one thing she could say to make him stay. Then, she blinked, stepped back, and said,
"Well, fine, go then!"
"What?" he said, incredulous.
"Go!" she repeated. "I've had enough of chasing you from one place to another, trying to make you see sense! Running around after you, chattering away, knowing that you're not actually listening to a thing I'm saying! You do what you damn well like, just as long as I never have to see your face again! In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you can go straight to Hell!"
And with that, she turned and walked away, past a stunned Daniel, and a slightly smirking Teal'c.
"Fine, I will!" he called after her, but she ignored him.
"You kinda deserved that." Daniel told him.
"Indeed you did." Teal'c added.
"What are you grinning at?" Jack demanded, but Teal'c merely smiled a little more, and followed Sam away.
"I'm really going, you know." Jack told Daniel.
"If Kinsey really does get into the White House, we'll need you." Daniel told him.
"I've had enough, Danny." Jack told him, wearily. "I've had enough of trying to save the world from the aliens, while all the time men like Kinsey and Maybourne are stabbing me in the back. I sold my soul once to save this place. I've got nothing left to lose."
And with that, he stepped into the lift and left.
"Oh, I think you've got plenty to lose." Daniel said quietly.
It was quiet in town. Even the usual Christmas Eve parties seemed strangely subdued. The snow didn't so much fall as swirl and dance and wind around Jack, as he made his weary way home. The yard was so dark that even Jack, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. Several times, his key missed the lock, and once, as he bent to peer closer, it was as if the snow around him formed into a ghastly, glaring skull, but the wind scattered it, almost before Jack had seen it, but not before he felt the chill blast of fear in his spine.
The fire that Jack had lit that morning was almost out, and the lamps would not light. No doubt the electricity was out. He looked around, and then, quite satisfied, he closed his door and locked himself in; double locked himself, which was not his custom, then sat down before the fire.
It was a very low fire indeed; nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it, and brood over it, and in the flames he saw her walking away once more, when he had expected her to stay, heard her scornful voice, when he had expected her to plead and cajole.
"Damn woman." he muttered.
"Is that my daughter you're talking about?"
Jack spun round. There, in a room that had undoubtedly been empty a moment ago, stood Jacob Carter.
Who most assuredly should not have been there.
"How...Where...What?!"
"Nice to see you too Jack."
"Look, no offence Jacob, but what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm giving you a warning, Jack. Mend your ways, Jack O'Neill."
"Mend my ways?"
"Look, "Jacob said, moving into the light of the fire, although his gait seemed awkward and constrained. "By all rights, I should be dead now. You know that. If things had gone on they were supposed to, I would have been a ghost now."
"But you're not."
"No, but I'm here to play the part I would have played, had I died." He moved further forward, into the light.
"You don't believe me. You don't believe I'm here."
"I don't." asserted Jack.
"And yet you see me, hear me, talk to me. Why do you doubt your senses, Jack?"
"Because," said Jack, "a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are."
Jacob sighed.
"That's a terrible joke, Jack. Truly awful."
"Sorry." Jack muttered. "I'm a little shaken." He had finally seen what hindered Jacob's walk. "You are fettered," said Jack trembling. "Tell me why?"
"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard. Is it's pattern strange to you?"
Jack said nothing, staring only at the ponderous weight of metal Jacob wore.
"In life, " Jacob told him, "I made myself dead. I cut myself off from those you loved me. I quarreled with my son, and lost him. I almost lost my daughter, as you have. I kept myself clean and cold and pure, in my little bubble of sanctuary, and self-righteousness, and lost all the joy there was in my life, all the purpose there was to my existence, as you have done tonight."
"It was just one night..." Jack murmured.
"That followed so many other slights, and rejections, and doors closing, and arguments. Jack, I had to die before I redeemed myself. Don't le that happen to you, you will not get another chance at life."
"What must I do?"
"You will be haunted by three Spirits."
"Is that the chance you mentioned, Jacob?"
"It is. Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I once trod. Expect the first tonight, when the bell tolls one."
Jacob turned to go, then then shrugged, as if remembering what he was, and simply faded away.
"Oh for cryin' out loud." Jack muttered, then, laying on the sofa, fell asleep.
When Jack awoke it was so dark that, looking out he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber. Softly, his chiming clock began to strike - one.
"The hour itself!" cried Jack triumphantly, "and nothing else!"
He spoke before the hour bell itself had sounded, which it now did with a deep, dull, hollow, melancholy tone. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant. Jack, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with his unearthly visitor; as close to it as I am now to you, and I an standing in the spirit at your elbow.
Then the visitor spoke, with a familiar voice.
"Hi Jack." he said, and as the light faded, Jack recognized his ghost.
"Kowalsky!"
"Yeah, it's me!" Kowalsky grinned. "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"You?" Jack said, grinning back at him.
"Yeah, well, just for you." Kowalsky said, a little embarrassed. "Just 'cos I know you so well, and know what a cold, screwed up SOB you can be sometimes, and cos you listen to me, sometimes."
He was serious now, and Jack asked him softly,
"What brings you here, ghost...friend?"
"Your welfare." said the Ghost. Jack's sarcasm was silent, but written plain across his face.
"Your reclamation, then. It's time to go."
"Go where?"
It was a neat little house, near the Cheyenne base. Jack and Kawalsky entered silently, invisibly, floating through the wall.
"You know this place?" Kowalsky asked.
"It's been redecorated, but yeah, I know it. This is Carter's house." Charlie Kowalsky nodded.
"About seven years ago, just before the first mission."
Jack turned at a sudden noise to see Sam walking into the kitchen, sighing, rubbing her hands through her hair. Jack stepped back, out of the line of sight.
"She can't see us. These are but shadows of the things that have been." said the Ghost. "They have no consciousness of us."
Jack turned, to see Sam had been followed into the kitchen by Jonas. He was pleading, reaching out to her, although she kept just out of his reach.
"I don't understand, Samantha. Why? Why are you breaking the engagement off?"
Sam stood right in front of Jack, so close that if he had been real, his breath would have stirred her hair. He watched her, every expression that flitted across her face.
"I'v had enough." she said, and for a moment Jack flinched, thinking she knew that he was there, was going to repeat what she's said to him that afternoon. But she turned round, back to Jonas. "I could just about put up with you trying to control how I dressed, who I saw." she continued. "That I could cope with. But to try and get me out of the Stargate program... that's going too far Jonas. How dare you try to interfere with my WORK! Don't you know how important that is to me?"
"More important than I am?" Jonas asked, tensely.
"Sam..." Jack said warningly, remembering that Sam knew nothing of just how insane Jonas really was.
"Yes, it's more important than you. I'd never allow any man, no matter how much I loved him, to stop me doing the job I was born to do, and I certainly don't love you enough to put up with your interference! Now please leave."
Jonas stepped towards, his hand clenched, but she didn't move. Jack felt his own hand clench too, all too aware that if he did hit her, there was nothing he could do.
"She said leave."
Charlie touched Jack's arm, and nodded towards the doorway. Jacob stood there, quietly menacing.
"This has nothing to do with you." Jonas hissed.
"Oh but it has." Jonas said quietly. "I don't like you, and I want you to leave."
Jonas looked at the older man for a moment, then nodded and left. As he reached the doorway, he turned round and said to Sam,
"You'll know how this feels one day. You'll be so helplessly in love with some man, want him desperately. You'll ache with wanting him, he'll be in your dreams, and every thought, and everything you do will be for him, but you're cold, Sam, and when you find that man, you'll watch him walk away, and you won't know how to call him back to you."
"Never." whispered Sam, but Jonas was gone, and he didn't hear her.
"Thank you, Dad."
"I know you could handle him, but to tell you the truth, I really REALLY dislike that guy."
She smiled, and turned back to the huge load of Christmas washing up in the bowl. She looked so sad, but so stoic, so determined to hold her feelings in, that Jacob reached out to touch her, but stopped, unsure how to deal with his stubborn, hurting, defensive daughter, so like himself.
"I wish your mother was here." he said. "She would have known how to deal with this."
"I'm okay." she said, and Jack recognized the way she swallowed her feelings, cut herself off, turned away from Jacob.
"So, Sam." Jacob said, changing the subject. "You love long-range radar telemetry that much, do you?"
She smiled.
"Yes, Dad."
"So, tell me, why does a place that studies deep space need an archeologist?"
"What?" Sam turned to Jacob, dripping soapy water all over the floor. "How did you.....?"
"People do still talk to me, you know. I heard there was an archeologist joining you, Daniel somebody. Thinks the pyramids were built by aliens. So, is he going to help you hunt for aliens?"
"I don't know why he's here." Sam said, drying her hands, and studiously not looking at Jacob.
"Alright." Jacob continued. "What's this I hear about Jack O'Neill joining you?"
"Who's that?" she asked, genuinely off-hand.
"Colonel O'Neill? Good soldier, bad-tempered, fearless, not reckless, tends to be picked for the more ... unusual missions. I've heard a lot about him, and what I've heard, I like, but he's not the type to sit in a lab all day."
Sam's eyes had widened, and her jaw dropped as she listened to her father, then asked,
"He's coming here? To Cheyenne?"
Jacob nodded.
"Damnit!" Sam swore, slapping her hand down on the counter.
"She can't hate me already." Jack said, puzzled. "She hasn't met me yet."
"She's just realized that they've picked the first team to go to Abydos." Kowalsky explained. "And she's not going."
"Why?"
"She's a woman."
"And? So? Therefore? She is the one that got the damn thing open."
"Yeah, but she's a woman. You may not have a problem with that, but others do. She works twice as hard as anyone else, but she still gets knocked back. The only reason she made it on to SG1 was because Hammond insisted."
"But she's a damn good soldier." Jack insisted. "Always does as she's told, comes through in a crisis, obeys all...." his voice trailed off.
"Obeys all the regulations?" Kawalsky finished. "She has to. She doesn't have the freedom you've been given. You forget, Stargate was handed to you on a plate. She had to fight tooth and nail to get on that project, and there's no way she's leaving now. She can't walk away as easily as you can."
"I'm not walking away." Jack started to say, but at that moment Sam walked straight through him, flooding his body with a warm, sharp shock.
"I'm going for a walk, Dad." she called out.
"My time grows short. We must join her outside." Kowalsky said.
It was a sharp, cold, bright, diamond-like Christmas day. Happiness and joy flooded the streets, suffusing everything with beauty and love, but Sam saw none of that. She strode down the street angrily, her hands jammed in her pockets, her head buried in her collar. She only looked up when she heard a child laugh. Across the street a girl, just a little younger than she was when she lost her mother, was playing happily with a bike, obviously a Christmas present. Beside her, her parent stood, and laughed and played with her. Sam walked by slowly, aching with the loss of her mother, of the guiding light in her life, wishing desperately that just once, she'd find someone else to support her, help her, instead of obstructing her at every turn. She was so engrossed in watching the happy little family, she didn't see the man walking towards her until she bumped into him.
"Sorry." she said, looking up at him, her eyes squinting against the harsh winter sun.
"My fault." he said shortly. "I was distracted."
"Me too." she said, following his gaze to the family. They both watched for a second, listening to the sounds of laughter, and children coming from the houses all around them, then he turned to her and said,
"Don't you just hate Christmas?"
She looked at him in surprise, straight into his intense brown eyes, then saw the pain there, and masking that, a delicious, irresistible, spark of laughter. She smiled involuntarily.
"Worst time of year." she agreed.
Jack watched them, surprised.
"That's me." he said to Kowalsky.
"Your first meeting." he agreed.
"I don't remember." Jack murmured, watching the two lonely strangers caught in a a moment of mutual need and longing.
"You were still grieving over Charlie." the Ghost told him. "You hardly noticed anything."
"Jack!" a voice called out. Both Jack's turned to see Sara running up the street towards them.
"Merry Christmas." the younger Jack told Sam as she walked away. She smiled again, and walked past Sara, who barely noticed her. Jack didn't look at Sara, he just watched Sam walk down the street, her head higher now, her stride more confident.
"I thought we were going to talk." Sara said.
"Oh no." the older Jack said, stepping back, flinching away from the scene.
"We did." the other Jack said calmly.
"No, I talked." Sara said, calm, but desperation tinged her voice. "You just sat there, and said nothing. I don't know anything about ....Jack, I'm warning you, I can't take this distance, this coldness any more."
He said nothing.
"I wanted to reach out." the older Jack said. "I just couldn't."
"I want a divorce." Sara said. Jack still said nothing, even as the sun glinted off the tears slipping down Sara's cheek.
"You wanted her to reach out to you first." Kowalsky said. Jack nodded. "But she couldn't. You pushed her too far away."
Sara turned to leave, but she hesitated, then said to Jack,
"You may - the memory of what is past half makes me hope you will - have pain in this. A very very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life that you have chosen."
She left him, and they parted.
"I do remember." Jack whispered. "I AM sorry, Sara. Spirit, show me no more! Conduct me home! Why do you delight to torture me?"
Jack found himself back in his own room in a flash, listening to the dying tones of a clock striking one again.
It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove, from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. And in the middle of it all stood a little grey figure.
"Come in," exclaimed the Ghost, "Come in and know me better, man!"
"Thor?" Jack said incredulously. "YOU are the Ghost of Christmas Present?"
"I showed a desire to understand some of the myths surrounding Earth's festivals, and as a result, find myself here, with a certain task before me."
"Who sent you here?" Jack asked suspiciously.
"There are some things you should see." Thor told him, ignoring his question completely.
"Spirit, " said Jack submissively. "Conduct me where you will. Tonight if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it."
In a moment, Jack found himself back at Cheyenne Base, watching Janet and Cassie walk down the corridor to meet Daniel.
"Roads are blocked." Janet explained. "So it's Christmas here for us." She was smiling, so Jack guessed she really didn't mind.
"Where's Jack?" Cassie asked Daniel. He started to answer, but Janet, knowing about the argument, sent Cassie away.
"Still no sign of him?" she asked Daniel.
"I did try phoning him, but the lines are down. Either that, or he's actually cut his own phone lines."
"I wouldn't put it past him. Is he really leaving?"
"He did seem pretty upset about Kinsey running for President, and Sam just refused to put up with his temper any more."
"Good for Sam!" Janet insisted. "We've all had it up to here with his black moods and sarcasm, and his total failure to obey any kind of order he doesn't like."
"I've never seen him disobey you." Daniel pointed out.
"That's because he's scared of me. Sam's told him how much damage I can do with a blunt needle."
"You would indeed be a formidable enemy, Doctor Frasier." Teal'c said, from behind Jack. He was with Sam, and Jack stared at her. She looked pale, with huge dark circles under her eyes, utterly worn out in fact.
"I'll go and seen him tomorrow." Daniel said, a little wearily.
"No. Daniel, you have to stop being his peacemaker. Let him sort his own problems out." Sam insisted.
"We do need him here." Teal'c added, but Sam practically rounded on him.
"No we don't! He's been so difficult lately that I can do just fine without him. You know what he's like, always ranting about something, upsetting someone, and he's been worse lately. Let him sulk." she told him.
Jack flinched.
"I'm not that bad." he protested, forgetting she couldn't hear him.
"Yes, you are, O'Neill." Thor added, as Daniel and Janet left in search of Cassie.
"If you talked to him, he would listen. If you asked him to come back, he would." Teal'c told Sam.
"Why should he listen to me?" Sam asked.
"Because of what he feels towards you."
Sam turned to Teal'c.
"Teal'c, you and Janet both swore you'd never reveal what was said in that room, and you'd never bring it up again."
"I know. I shall not mention it again."
"Good. Because I don't want to hear it again." Sam said, as they followed Daniel and Janet.
Jack stood there, in the corridor, feeling very alone.
"I've been pushing them away." he murmured. "Especially Sam."
"Come, " said Thor, taking Jack's hand. "There is more to see this night."
It seemed only a moment later that they were in the grey room with the bright tree, but it must have been several hours, because they all had that stuffed, self-satisfied, sleepy look only those who have spent several hours around a heavily-laden Christmas table have. Janet had curled up in one chair, Teal'c was in another, with Cassie on his lap, trying not to fall asleep. Daniel and Sam sat on the sofa, good-naturedly arguing over the remote control.
"Not a Bond movie, please, Daniel." she was begging.
"Well, we're not watching Titanic, either." he told her.
"Good!" she retorted, laughing. Jack stepped forward, into the warm room, in the midst of his friends, suddenly aware of how much he would miss if he was gone, the closeness, the happiness, the completeness he felt in this room.
Suddenly, Judy Garland's warm voice poured out of the television,singing of rainbows and bluebirds and lemon drops.
"Perfect." Janet announced. "Wizard of Oz is the perfect Christmas film."
Daniel glanced once at Sam, Jack's Dorothy, but her face was impassive as she watched the screen.
"I wish I was here." Jack whispered. "I wish I could let down my barriers, and join in, and be a part of this."
"You already are a part." Thor told him.
"Jack?" Cassie whispered.
Sam turned to her, then glanced behind her where Cassie was staring.
"Jack's not here, sweetheart." she said gently, but Cassie merely smiled, and turned back to the screen.
"She can see me?" Jack said.
"The child Cassandra is more perceptive than you have given her credit for. She sees many things, much that she does not wish to see. She is well named." Thor said, staring at the child.
Time passed quickly, as it does on these occasions, and it seemed only moments later that the Wizard was telling the Tin Man,
"A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved."
"Your heart must be large indeed then." whispered Thor to Jack. "Because you are well-loved, if you would only accept it."
Jack didn't answer, but only watched as Sam finally succumbed to sleep, and her head fell on Daniel's shoulder. He smiled indulgently, and slipped his arm round her shoulder, much like Teal'c had done for Cassie. When the film finished, and the others had left, he kissed her gently on the forehead, whispered,
"Hail Dorothy." to her, pulled his arm out, and laid her gently on the sofa.
Jack watched her, lying there, and then bent down himself, and kissed her too, a light, soft kiss, on the cheek, that she must have barely felt. Yet she stirred, and whispered,
"Sir?"
Daniel and Janet glanced at each other.
"We should let her sleep." Janet said. Daniel nodded, but paused in the doorway. He seemed reluctant to leave her alone. Teal'c pulled the blanket over her,and left, but he also glanced back towards her. They seemed ... worried. Jack wanted to tell them that it was alright, he would watch over her, but they knew nothing of him.
He watched her sleep. Then gradually, he became aware of a darkness in the room. A coldness settled on his back. The shadows took shape, and seemed to stare, malevolently at her. Echoes and forebodings seemed to fill the room, the light dimming. Jack felt a sudden cold shock, a warning premonition.
"Thor, tell me if Sam will live."
Thor watched him a moment, then said, dispassionately,
"I see a vacant seat in the laboratory, tears of her friends, medals carefully preserved yet never worn. If these shadows remain unaltered by the future, the woman will die."
"No, no." cried Jack. "Oh, no. Kind Spirit, say she will be spared."
"If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race," returned the Ghost,"will find here. What then? If she had be like to die, she had better do it, and stop bothering you."
Jack hung his head to hear his own words quoted by Thor, and was overcome with penitence and grief.
The bell struck twelve.
Jack looked around him for Thor, and saw him not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of Jacob Carter, and lifting up his eyes, beheld the solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.
The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came near him, Jack bent down upon his knee, for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.
"I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" said Jack. The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.
"You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us?" Jack pursued. "Is that not so, Spirit?"
The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.
Once more, Jack found himself back in the base. Yet there was none of the warmth and happiness of his last visit. People moved through the corridors silently, spoke in whispers as if afraid to disturb the heavy air of sadness hanging over the base. Not one smile lightened Jack's heart. Not one happy voice rang through the corridors.
"What's happened?" Jack asked, but there was no answer. Instead, he turned the corner into the commissary, to find Janet and Daniel hunched over a table, in the only pool of light in the room.
They spoke slowly, each word falling dully, alone into the air, as if reluctant to be spoken.
"I can't believe this. I can't believe any of this." Daniel said slowly.
"I know." Janet agreed, softly. "It's the same for me."
"Just this morning, we were .... and now, we'll never talk again."
Daniel's voice cracked, and he bowed his head, as one solitary tear slipped from his eyes. Janet said nothing. She merely put her hand over his, gently, softly. But the tears continued to flow, and Daniel out his head down on the table, and sobbed.
"Someone died." Jack said, turning to the Spirit, but he was no longer in the commissary. He was in Hammond's office.
"We'll have the the memorial service in the gateroom." Hammond was telling Teal'c.
"A suitable place." Teal'c agreed. "It was after all, the starting point of the journey."
"I just wish the journey hadn't led to this." Hammond said softly.
Jack turned to the Spirit, but found himself once again in a different place.
A graveyard.
The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to one. Mist swirled around the graves, around the legs of the mourners thronging the graveyard, and Jack could not read the name on the stone. But he knew who it was.
"Is this my grave?" he asked, but the Spirit merely continued to point down. Jack advanced toward it, trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape.
"Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point, " said Jack, "answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that will be, or are they the shadows of things that may be, only?"
Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which he stood.
"Is this end certain?" Jack asked.
The Spirit did not answer. Jack pushed through the crowds. He pushed past Daniel, wearing a black armband, holding a sobbing Cassie close. He walked by Janet, pale and silent. He walked past Teal'c, past Hammond, past Siler, past Davis, past Major Davis. He walked faster and faster, almost eager to see his name on the gravestone, to see the date of his death. He heard a murmur of voices around him, but did not stop to listen. Still the mist swirled around the gravestone, obscuring his name. It stood there, shrouded, one lone mourner behind the stone. And as Jack got closer, that mourner looked up, straight at him.
It was himself.
Jack looked down at the stone. The mist parted, to reveal the name.
'Major Samantha Carter.'
"Oh God." he murmured. The voices around him cleared. He could make out the words spoken by his friends now.
"If he had been there, he would never have let her walk in to that ambush."
"It's his fault. She was so eager to prove she could manage without him, she went too far."
"If he hadn't left her alone, she's still be here."
And worse of all, Jacob's voice.
"I left her in his care. I knew she was too reckless of her own safety. I knew he was the only one who could stop her. But he failed me."
The voices faded into one long drone of blame. Jack looked up, into his own face, and knew that the other Jack could hear the voices too, and he could see in his eyes that they were right. Her death was his fault. The other Jack knew this, and he turned, and walked away down the hill, followed only by the echoes of justified accusations.
Jack fell to his knees on the grave, wiping the snow away from the name.
"It's supposed to me." he murmured. "You're supposed to live. You can't die. You mustn't die. You can't be here, in my grave!" He stood up, facing the Ghost. "No Spirit! Spirit, hear me! I am not the man I was. Why show me this, if I am past all hope?"
But the Spirit answered not, and the mist thickened, until all that was before Jack's eyes was darkness
When Jack opened his eyes again, there was light streaming about his room. But this time, the light did not have a ghostly source.
"Daylight!" Jack cried. He looked at his watch. "Daylight, and it's Christmas Day!" He laughed as he realized his ordeal was over, then his mood darkened as he remembered his last vision.
"Sam." he whispered, and dived for the phone, but the lines were still down. He swore, grabbed his car keys, and ran to the front door.
He drove as fast to the base as he dared, through a Christmas Day sa bright and as sharp as the one on which he met Sam, all those years ago. But he didn't see that. All he saw was the gravestone ... with her name on it ... but no date. It could have been today.
He drove faster, and finally was there, jumping out of his car and running down to level 28.
"Is she here?" he asked Siler, as he bumped into him, but Siler just shrugged. He ran further, until he bumped into Daniel.
"Where's Sam?" he said breathlessly."
"I'm not sure, I think Hammond wanted to see her." Daniel said hesitantly. Jack ran out again, but popped his head round the door to say,
"I apologize. To both of you. For everything." and ran away again.
"Well, that was strange." Daniel said.
"I have seen him do stranger things." Teal'c said. Daniel nodded in agreement.
Jack ran into Hammond's office at full speed, and panted out,
"Where's Sam?"
"We just received a message from the Tok'ra, she's about to go through the gate to meet them. Why...?"
But General Hammond never got an answer because Jack pelted down the stairs, and into the gateroom, shouting,
"Stop!"
Sam stopped. She looked in surprise at the exhausted Jack, who was bent double trying to get his breath back.
"Shut down..." he was trying to say.
"Shut down the gate!" she called. "Why?" she asked him.
"Trap. Don't ask me how I know, I just do." he said, getting his breath back. He stood up straight. It had been so close. Just a moment later, and she would have gone, without him.
"What are you doing here, Sir?" she asked, incredulous.
"I'm an asshole." he admitted. She didn't argue. "You were right. Everything you said was right. In fact, you left out quite a lot of worse stuff...what I'm trying to say, Carter, is that I'm staying. And I will put up with all the crap Kinsey and Maybourne throw at us, and I will put up with everything."
"Why?" she asked again, suspiciously.
"Because." he said, stepping closer to her. "I realized that I care far more for certain people ... a certain person, than I do for myself. Because I've had it easy, and not seen how difficult it was for you. Because there are far, far worse things that can happen to me then selling my soul. And because I don't want you stepping through that gate alone. Ever."
"Oh." she said. "Good." she said, a little confused. "What happened to you?"
"I was told to mend my ways. It's a sort of Christmas tradition."
"I see." she said, looking at him in that special way which meant 'you've gone completely nuts, Sir'
They stood there for a second, unsure what to do, then, to Jack's surprise, Carter stepped forward, and kissed him, gently, just for a moment, on the lips. It was warm, and sensitive, and worth waiting five years for.
He gaped for a moment, but then Carter pointed up.
"Mistletoe." she said, smiling a little.
"Another fine Christmas tradition." he replied, still lost in the unexpected touch of her.
"I'm sorry I told you to go to Hell." she said quietly. He reached forward, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek.
"I've been to Hell." he told her. "It was you who led me out of there."
They were lost in the moment, but then General Hammond demanded to know what was going on, and Cassie ran in to the gate-room, and the moment was lost, although the shiver of the kiss still remained on both their lips.
And that was how Jack O'Neill mended his ways, and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, for he knew the true meaning of it.
The End
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 ]