***
I can see you turn away
When I ask what for you say it isn't anything
But I'm not sure
Something underneath the skin won't let you be
And you try to keep it in
But I can see
"I like women," he'd told me once, that fateful day of our first meeting. He'd said it straight-faced, continuing on, elaborating that he merely had problems with scientists, but over the years I came to distrust the validity of the statement. I didn't know any more - or better - back then - but it wasn't long before I heard the tragic story behind the label MARTIAL STAUTS: SEPERATED. Married, but in name only, because both he and his wife had become comfortably numb over the issue, and getting the appropriate papers drawn would only serve the rip the wound open anew. Even now, after all this time, I know he still loves her. How could he not, even if he was simply a few Xeroxed documents away from 'ex-husband'.
He was already an ex-father.
The woman before me
Must have been hard on you
Cause that hurt in your eyes
I never put you though
Sometimes I think you must be talking to
The woman before me and you
The loss of his son, Charlie, had been in his dossier, of course, and had even been something I'd heard of through the grapevine that connected the SGC, the Pentagon, and more then a few other establishments in a complex intra-institutional network of gossip and slander. I'd never been actually WARNED about it, per se, but I can read between the lines fairly well. The verbal insight was no more effective than reading the simple words, black on white. They'd taken on new meaning when I had met the man behind the stiff, stilted report.
I have no children, but I have Cassandra, and even without her I'd like to think that I have a healthy admiration and veneration for the lives of the innocent. Before having even met the man, hearing that my CO's child had shot himself with his father's gun was nothing less than astonishing.
To make matters worse, he had turned away from his wife - and perhaps her from him - at a time when they had never needed each other more.
Sometimes in an argument it will show
When you go a little farther then you meant to go
I know you don't mean the things
That you say
I just want to ease the pain
That's in your way
But then again, it was a situation impossible for me to place myself in, no matter how many times I tried to think it out and put my logic and values in their positions. The loss of a child, and then a spouse. To have one's family torn out from underneath was frightening, even for a woman who lost her mother at a young age and, until recently, was estranged from both father and brother. The circumstances were so very different, and to see myself in Jack O'Neill's place was all but impossible.
I'd always been the one to do the leaving.
The woman before me
Must have been hard on you
Cause that hurt in your eyes
I never put you though
Sometimes I think you must be talking to
The woman before me and you
I didn't know all the specifics right off, but as time passed I gathered up the details with an eagerness I found embarrassing. The Colonel had returned from the first Abydos mission a new man, having found catharsis in forming a relationship with a boy named Skarra and having taken the invigorating risk of lying to his superiors to save lives. He'd come back to her, ready to start over, even ready to begin to forgive himself.
But she had already left. And in many ways he had relapsed, drawing back into himself to some degree, determined to put away not only the pain of losing his son, but his wife as well.
Would I have left? I asked myself that question far more often than I had any right to, as though I had some claim to compare myself with Sara O'Neill. Perhaps the most frustrating thing about it all was that the answer was always no. Even when O'Neill was at his best - annoying me, taking me for granted, even betraying me - I'd promised myself that I would always be there if he came to his senses. I would be his constant. And I would never leave. Not like Sara had. No, I would have stayed, waited until my husband, the only remaining member of my family, my WORLD, had returned.
If there are sorrows that bring back a tear
Don't let them keep us apart
You ought to know you've got nothing to fear
Here in my heart.
But I was military. And I hadn't lived that life. I had no business even considering it.
Even knowing everything the woman has been through, I can't help but feel some anger towards Sara. I don't know her, but I know she hurt him, if not single-handedly, then she certainly she contributed to it. More than once I've longed for the chance to ask her why she ran away, why she took the coward's way out, sneaking off while he was on a mission, a mission he very well could have died completing.
No, I wouldn't have left. But it wasn't my life.
I don't know if this changed the way he worked with military women, but I'm willing to bet that it did. I was virtually the first one he'd worked closely with since the accident. After the initial acidity, he'd treated me well, treated me... like a human being. Not like a scientist. Not even like a woman. Like a fellow officer, and later, like a friend. And even through the instances when he amazed me with his sheer idiocy, I believed in and honored that friendship. It was something I'd never had before, something different and something more. I liked to think it was because I was a woman. I treasured it.
I couldn't relate it to my relationship with Daniel or Teal'c. I couldn't even compare it to whatever I had with Martouf. This was military. This was special, and it was like that because he'd been hurt.
God, Sara had obviously been important to him, a meaningful part of his life. She had given him a son. The mere thought of her had helped him endure otherwise insurmountable odds. The careful way he never mentioned her belayed more than he could ever say aloud. And he must have been special to her as well. Which is why I can't reconcile how she simply left him. Mistakes had been made, tragic ones, catastrophic ones. But mistakes ARE ALWAYS made. Tragedies and catastrophes occur. And it simply makes no sense to compound that calamity with another, to turn your back on your love and your history and all the overwhelming feelings that create a bond as strong as marriage. I remember watching Jack from across the Gate room and thinking just that: that he was worth so much more. That love was worth so much more.
The issue of me being a woman surfaces from time to time, certainly. How can it not? I am what I am and he is what he is. We can't change that. We don't want to. Sometimes I had the distinct sensation that the anger he vents isn't simply because I'm military or a scientist; it's because I'm of the female persuasion. And we'll snap and rant and bitch at each other, and I'll think: Wow, Sara, you had the right idea. What an ass. What a prick.
But then, he'll apologize.
Not in so many words, maybe, but then again he's never been the kind to talk anything to death. He's a man of action. My tired limbs and ragged breath remind me of that.
Cause you and I will never be
Like the past
Whatever kind of memories that you have
Nothing's gonna hurt you now can't you see
I've already a vow
That I can keep
Giving a contented sigh, Jack slips his arm around my waist. I can feel him drift off to sleep, muscles relaxing against me, and I smile. He and I have something special - different, more - something that I don't have with anyone else, and that's not just because we're sleeping together. There's a million separate reasons for it, but most of them center on the woman who came before me, how she hurt this man, changed him, made him more needy and more difficult at the same time. How she made me put myself in her position, figuratively and literally. How she was such an influence on how we saw each other, and she'll probably never even know.
"I like women," he'd said. At the time, it wasn't true. He was probably a subscriber to Hamlet's theory: "Frailty, thy name is woman". All I know is, had I been recently abandoned by my spouse...
But no... I've had enough of putting myself in other people's positions.
I'm perfectly happy in mine.
The woman before me
Must have been hard on you
Cause that hurt in your eyes
I never put you though
Sometimes I think you must be talking to
The woman before me and you
Alli
Story Notes: Title: The Woman Before Me
Author: Alli (alli@ecis.com)
Rating: PG (mild language, mild content)
Category: Vignette, Angst, Songfic (everyone gets a freebie!)
Archive: Wherever you'd like
Spoilers: Children of the Gods
Notes: The song "The Woman Before Me" is preformed by Trisha Yearwood, produced by Gearth Fundis, and written by Jude Johnstone. It's also used without permission.
Disclaimer: I plead the 5th.
Author: Alli (alli@ecis.com)
Rating: PG (mild language, mild content)
Category: Vignette, Angst, Songfic (everyone gets a freebie!)
Archive: Wherever you'd like
Spoilers: Children of the Gods
Notes: The song "The Woman Before Me" is preformed by Trisha Yearwood, produced by Gearth Fundis, and written by Jude Johnstone. It's also used without permission.
Disclaimer: I plead the 5th.
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 ]