Home by Tirion Start

[Report This]
- Text Size +

Story Notes: TITLE: "Home"

AUTHOR: Tirion Start

E-MAIL: glen@melbourne.net

ARCHIVE: S&J and Heliopolis please (and please and please and please!)

DISCLAIMER: If only... but no, I don't own ANY of the cast of Stargate. I'll just let MGM et al keep doing what they're doing (and doing well mind you). I'm just borrowing them for my own selfish purposes and I promise I'll return them at the end of this story! Believe me, I'm not getting paid for this (I'd be worried if I was!) so please don't sue me.

SUMMARY: Post-ep fic for '100 Days'

RATING: PG

WARNINGS: S/J UST

SPOILERS: '100 Days'

FEEDBACK: Yes please!!!!

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I promised myself I wouldn't do this until *after* I'd seen '100 Days' but.. this just got stuck in my head and there was NOTHING I could do about it! When musey calls.. I'm forced to answer. I sent it in a bit of a rush.. I think it kinda dies towards the end.. but.. I wasn't about to change it again! Hope you enjoy it!

He's back.

I really wish those words would make me happier than they actually do. It seems strange really.. for so long, the possibility of being able to say those words.. of him coming back.. had fueled what I know people had thought was a seemingly hopeless fight. After all, I had barely even believed it myself.. the laws of Physics aren't exactly known for their flexibility. But they were my fundamentals.. a large chunk of what I had based my career on to this point. I had it firmly in my mind that if anyone had the right to change them, I did. And I had. I had built that particle accelerator. I had been triumphant over Physics.. and because of that, he'd come back.

In hindsight, I don't think I would have wanted a fanfare anyway.

Three months he'd been gone, and in those three months I managed to slip into an awkward stalemate with my body. I bribed it with caffeine and glucose, and in return, it did what I told it to. In the last few weeks it became a desperate, clawing struggle to get it to respond.. more caffeine and more glucose.. but respond it did. Yes it had been hard.. very hard.. but I did it. Still, I don't think I wanted a fanfare.

But perhaps.. perhaps a thank you.

But I know why he didn't..I know why. Because I had brought him back, but I didn't bring him home.

I'm tired. I'll be the first to admit that now, though I'm sure doing so could cause a few coronaries around here - I know people don't exactly think of me as a fading flower. Usually, I'd agree with them, but this isn't just tiredness. No, it's nothing as simple as that. It's exhaustion.. a many-times-put-off exhaustion which has now mutated into a bone aching, soul-penetrating weariness. My body is finally demanding double-time payment for it's troubles.

Now I'm in the lab I know, well, a surreal version of it at least. I'm amazed at how everything takes a back seat when fatigue wins out - even reality. I suppose.. in some ways that's a good thing. I think that.. that if I was lucid enough to fully contemplate the events of today.. how he'd reacted.. what I'd seen.. it would hurt. Perhaps that's why my body hasn't completely shut off - because somewhere deep down I think it knows that if it did, the dull hazy pain in my chest wouldn't be so dull. It could be excruciating.

Perhaps that's why I can identify every individual item on this bench, but I can't remember the last time I ate. Or slept.

I see a shadow cast across the floor, and I can see from the hunched posture that it's Daniel. I don't acknowledge his presence, instead I force a few more scraps of attention to the clutter in front of me.

"Sam?" He calls my name softly from the doorway. I ignore it.

He walks slowly inside. I continue to move purposefully between the bench and the cabinets, filing each item away carefully, categorically. He appears to hesitate, then, after a few moments, moves to stand in my path. My immediate response is one of annoyance and I alter my route to push angrily past him. His head bows and he takes a little side-step away from me, giving me room to continue my task. Then with a quick shake of his head he positions himself in my way once again, reaching out to take my shoulders. I try to move anyway, but it's futile. Right now I don't even have enough strength to wrestle an ant.

Let go, Daniel, I need to return that Cathode Ray Tube to the third shelf of the second cabinet on the right in the left corner next to the table over there.

"What are you doing?"

I shrug.

"Cleaning up."

It comes out more as a mumble than any form of speech. His eyebrows furrow and he licks his lips in.. what? frustration? thought? I can't tell.

"Come on Sam, you need to get some sleep."

His tone is insistent, his face genuine. I smile despite myself. Yes I do need sleep. I think that's fairly obvious. Good one, Daniel. So what's stopping me you ask? Why am I still here you want to say? My eyes drop to the floor and my smile fades. I'm afraid, Daniel.. I want to sleep more than anything.. I'm just afraid of what I'll feel when I wake up, and the fatigue is gone.

"I really need to clean up Daniel." I hear myself say.

I try pushing out of his grip again and this time, he lets me go.

"Promise me you'll sleep after this." He whispers. I nod.

"I promise."

With a small smile, he reaches to my left arm and squeezes it gently. Then, without another word he turns and shuffles out the door.

Releasing a sigh of.. well.. nothing really, I pick up the Cathode Ray Tube. I carry it carefully to the cabinet, balancing the glass against my fingers. The image of Dr. Kearney, my second-year Quantum Physics lecturer flashes in my mind. Short, black fluffy hair and pointed face, standing on the dais in the lecture theatre, preaching about laboratory skills: "You need to make sure that you do not apply too much pressure to the Cathode Ray Tube. You will break the glass. At the same time you need to make sure it is steady in your hand. It is a skill you will acquire over time." It certainly is a skill I've acquired over time.. finally my years of labs are put to use.

"Sam."

The second voice from the doorway is so unexpected my fingers involuntarily clench together and the tube slips, dropping to the floor with a smash. I spin around sharply, fixing a glare on my face at the intruder.

Janet stands unflinchingly at the door, arms crossed tightly against her chest.

A grunt escapes my lips and I look down at the concrete. The intact half of the tube is half way across the floor, and the other half lies scattered in pieces at my feet. Throwing my hands into the air in a display of frustration, I kneel behind the desk to scoop the glass fragments into a pile. I sneak a glance under the desk at the doorway and see unobstructed light flowing in. Exactly Janet, I'm busy. No time to chat now. Shaking my head I turn back to my glass pile.

And a small pair of polished boots.

I pause, and for a second I contemplate standing to face her. Almost instantly I decide against it. I don't trust my legs, and it really would defeat the purpose of telling her I'm fine if the first thing I did was fall over. My inaction doesn't phase her however, and moments later a shadow passes over my head as she crouches down in front of me. I groan inwardly. Why can't people just be satisfied I don't want to talk to them?

"Sam." She says again. I look up at her in impatience.

Her face is full of worry, and it makes the pain in my chest increase. Why on Earth do I need to feel when there are so many others doing it for me? So many people are concerned for me.. especially her.. especially Janet, because she became privy to some information I would rather she hadn't been. It was a slip.. something I blame solely and completely on fatigue and distraction. It wasn't specific, but she's female.. she came to the same conclusion I would have if our positions had been reversed. Except her conclusion was correct.

What makes it worse is the speed at which the events of today have been passed around. People talk. That's the worst. And someone had talked to her, and now she knew everything. All about him, all about Lara. I didn't even have a chance to trivialise it. I hate that she pities me. But I don't blame her. I blame myself... I blame myself for having the feelings this pity stems from.

Her hand touches mine and she smiles sadly.

"It's okay, Sam, he's home. You brought him home."

I rip my eyes away and shake my head. That's just it. He's back, but he isn't home. I didn't bring him home - I brought him back, and I took him away from home. From home and from her. What did I expect? That for the last three months he would have camped by the Stargate, day in and day out, waiting for us to rescue him? I had made the mistake of thinking he would be as relieved, as happy as I had been when I saw him. I had made that mistake.

Now, I was dealing with it.

You can say you're happy to be home, Colonel, but I won't believe you.

Janet kneels forward, reaching out to still my hands.

"Sam.." She says softly, "Stop."

I sigh and obey. For the first time in three months I realise how tired I really am. My eyes sting and my legs are weak, and there's a tremor in my hands that I'm so used to I haven't noticed it. But I notice it now, because she is holding my hands, and her hands are shaking.

Okay Janet, I'll stop. I'll sleep.

She smiles at me and tugs upwards, helping me stand. But I've obviously underestimated my body, for in a surge of fog and fuzziness, my eyes lose focus and my legs fail. I try to correct my balance, to warn her, to do anything.. but nothing will respond. I slip ungracefully from her hold and hit the floor.

"Sam!" She calls sharply.

I can't move a muscle. I can't even open my eyes. I can feel, and I can hear, but I'm sure it won't be long before I won't be able to do that either. I feel her checking my pulse and I hear her swear to herself. She pats my cheek.

"Sam.. come on.." She whispers.

Her voice and touch begins to phase in and out, as if I'm periodically being covered and uncovered with a thick doona. I don't ever remember unconsciousness being this hesitant. Then again, that unconsciousness was accompanied by a blow to my head.. or a ribbon device.. or something...

Footsteps. And a voice. "Doc, have you seen - Oh my God! Carter!"

Oh my God.. it's the Colonel. The thought jolts me out of my haze and I struggle to open my eyes while pursuing the same struggle to sit up. Okay.. no.. two things at once isn't good. One thing at a time Sam.. one thing. Eyes. Concentrate on the eyes. I squeeze them further shut then try forcing them open. It works for a total of three seconds, in time to see Janet's face and the Colonel's shoes. Okay. Plan B. Forgetting my eyes I try sitting up. I have more success with this, rising a few inches off the floor.

"Sam stop it!" Janet orders and pushes me back down. I shake my head.

"m'okay." I manage to slur out, trying once again to sit up.

This time I'm stopped by larger, warmer hands on my shoulders.

"No, Carter. You're not." The Colonel says firmly, but holds me in place instead of quashing my efforts.

Deeper in his voice I sense concern, and I can't help but be irritated. What gives him the right to be concerned? Now of all times?

"Will she be okay?" I hear him ask.

Don't pretend you care, Colonel. Don't pretend you're not angry with me for bringing you back. Because I don't believe you.

"She's exhausted Colonel. She needs sleep."

I feel one hand leave my right shoulder and the other move across my back to rest in it's place. For a moment I think he's going to allow me the grace of sitting up, but then I feel an arm reaching under my knees and I'm being lifted up. Oh no. No you don't Colonel. No way. I shake my head defiantly.

"'Can walk.. sssir."

Janet's hand rests on my shoulder.

"Not this time, Major. Not this time." She says.

Thanks, Janet. Thanks a whole heap. I'm about to try something more direct and offensive, when I feel him lean his head to my ear.

"Relax Sam.. please.. just.. let me do this." He whispers.

His breath is warm against my ear and I find I just don't have the energy to respond. He adjusts my head to rest against his shoulder, and I feel his muscles flex under my weight - diminished I know since he left. No doubt he knows it too. The rhythm as we.. he.. walks is soothing, and the haziness returns, but it is much more comfortable.. much.. warmer than the previous one. Was there pleading in his voice? Does he actually want to be carrying me? What kind of absolution does he think it will offer him? I reach up to loosely grasp a handful of his jacket, and feel a momentary pressure on the top my head. Yes, I know that's what you want, Colonel. I know that's the only thing. But.. you can say you care. You can say you're home, and I might believe you.

Janet is obviously still with us, because I hear a door being opened.. my door.. and that task would be incredibly difficult for him at this point in time. The next thing I hear is blankets being pulled back, and the next thing I feel is us turning around and him lowering me onto a mattress.. and a pillow. He.. or someone.. removes my boots and covers me gently with a blanket, tucking it around my neck. Oh. It's him. I'd recognise that after-shave anywhere.

I sigh and wriggle further under the blankets, but he doesn't move his hands away. As sleep reaches up impatiently to pull me in, I hear his whispered voice.

"I'm home, Sam."

A feather-light touch runs up and down my cheek, then is gone.

It's okay, sir. I think I'm beginning to believe you.

* * * * * *

Grumble.

Don't you dare.

Rumble.

Shut up.

Rumblerumblegrumble

I don't care, I'm not hearing you. I don't have time for food now. I don't -

"Colonel!" I shout, jolting upright. I look around quickly. I'm in bed!! How can I be here!? I need to be back in the lab! I need to build that particle accelerator! I need to..

I stop.

On the table next to my bed sits a fuzzy brown bear, smiling at me with big brown eyes and a little black nose perched on the tip of a tan-coloured snout. I notice an object sitting neatly in the lap of my bear, between its paws.

It's a particle accelerator.

Well, actually it's a block of caramel fudge with jelly tots stuck to it, which looks more like.. a block of caramel fudge with jelly tots stuck to it than a particle accelerator. But I know it is one, because attached to it is a bright green post-it note, with 'Particle Accelerator' printed neatly on it. I laugh to myself and lean closer to run my fingers along the bear's soft head, pulling at a tag attached to its right ear. I squint at the handwriting.

To: Sam

Thank-you for bringing me home

From: Jack

I stare at the note, allowing the words time to sink in. Then I find myself smiling, and I swipe half-heartedly at some stray tears running down my face. He's home.

And it's okay sir.

I believe you.

THE END

---------------------------------

Like? Didn't like? Any solutions to the World's problems?

Let me know!
:)

Table of Contents | Reviews - 1 |

[Report This]

You must login (register) to review.