samandjack.net

Story Notes: Email: acheek@home.com

Season/Sequel Info: third season, takes place during "Shades of Grey."

Spoilers: "A Hundred Days," "Shades of Grey."

Archive: SJ & Heliopolis, all others contact me for permission first.

Copyright (c) 2000 A. Cheek acheek@home.com

Notes: No betas this time, and it probably shows. ;) Feedback is always appreciated. I have a thick skin. Tell me what you really think.


Right now, I honestly couldn't tell anyone how I've arrived at this point in time. Standing here, tired and cross, waiting for my former commanding officer to leave Earth for good. He's going back to Edora. How the hell could it have ended like this?

It took me three months of incessant work, sleepless nights, and more caffeine than one person should safely consume, but my team and I built that damned particle accelerator. We brought him home, and for what? So he can go back to that woman, and never come home again? Hell, we should have done it that way the first time, and I'd have gotten a lot more sleep!

I thought he'd quit being cranky after the first few days. It certainly wasn't the first time that the Colonel had been a jerk and just let things slide back to normal instead of apologizing. He hates to apologize. The rest of us know that, and accept it. But he didn't stop his behavior, oh no, he topped it by stealing from the Tollan. I can't remember ever being so shocked. And the look on Teal'c's face broke my heart. Not that it really needed any help. I mean, how could I have misjudged him so badly? I respected him. I thought he was my friend.

Well. I've been wrong before, and I will be again. Right now, I've got to concentrate and maintain my military face. Impassive, unshakable. The one that doesn't show how fucking furious I am with him, that he'd change so much, and betray the faith we had in him. He was our team leader. He wasn't supposed to piss all over our trust.

It's been a week now since General Hammond forced him into retirement. I've worked like a madwoman, doing whatever I could to keep my mind off this mess. My lab and office are immaculate. All my paperwork is done, even those damned supply requisition forms that have to be filled out in triplicate. I cleaned out my desk, and when we go on standown, I'm going to tear through my apartment like a whirlwind. God, I'm sublimating my emotions into housework. Sick.

The first time I stepped through the Stargate with Colonel Makepeace, I thought I was going to scream.

But as I go about my duties, filling my days with as much meaningless work as possible so I don't have to think, it's getting harder and harder to keep the military face going. It's slipping on me, and I have to keep it in place for at least the next few hours. Then I can go home, and somewhere in between sorting out three weeks worth of mail and scrubbing down the kitchen, I'm going to let all of this sink in. I will cry, and I will probably break things. I'll dig out my journal and write about how I watched a former friend leave us all behind for good. And when everything is clean and uncluttered, I'm going to sit down and break out that bottle of whisky that Teal'c and I were going to give him for his birthday. I'll drink as much as I can, and pour the rest of it down the drain. I'll take off this mask later tonight, but for now, I have to stay calm and watch him leave. And I can't let anyone else know that it hurts, because I can't show any weakness.

Bastard. I can't believe he did it.

We're waiting at the base of the Stargate. Janet's with us. None of us are talking -- we're all too afraid that we'll let our guard down. The gate has already been dialed, and the event horizon shimmers like a lake on a windy day.

General Hammond escorts Jack into the gate room. His face is cold and closed off. He's wearing civvies, and carrying a small duffel. He walks straight to the ramp, not looking at any of us.

Get him into my reach just now and in all likelihood I'd strangle him.

At the top of the ramp, he pauses, still not looking back.

"Colonel," General Hammond says quietly, and as one, we raise our hands in a farewell salute.

Turn around, I think, damn you, Jack O'Neill, turn around. Look at what you're leaving behind, to go live on some godforsaken isolated planet with a woman who had to have a great moral struggle to even tell you that Teal'c was risking his life to bring you home. Look at how we're still respecting and honoring the man you were, even after you betrayed us. Turn around, and see what you gave up.

A muscle in my cheek is ticking. I bite down on my tongue, hard. Turn around, Jack, one last time. Don't leave without saying good bye to me. Turn around, show one last bit of decency, so I can remember you without all this bitterness. Don't be such a coward! Turn around turn around turn around you bastard turn....

He steps through the event horizon, and the wormhole disengages. I lower my arm, before it can start shaking.

"Dismissed," the General says gently. "You're on stand down until tomorrow at 1200 hours."

I gather my things, take the elevator to the surface, and head for the parking lot without speaking to anyone. Climbing into my car, I rest my head on the steering wheel for a moment, then resolutely get back in control. Only a half hour drive home, then I can drop the damned mask, and let myself feel, but it's too dangerous just now. And in my head, it's still echoing, turn around, turn around, one last time, turn....



The End.




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