"2004" by Sharon Nuttycombe

S/J, PG. Spoilers for "2010"

Part 1/1, Posted: November 14, 2000

Authors Notes: Well, it's now November and I've read the script for 2010 (which doesn't air for a while). I've read the *whole* script. Needless to say, there are spoilers ahead. <vbeg> That being said, I tried not to give too much away. If you read this, you'll still be fairly surprised by what happens in 2010. But there's a moment in the script which made me want to theorize on what might have happened in the past (or rather, four years from now...or the present day's future...ack! Just gotta love temporal mechanics!). Anyway, I'm certain I won't be the only one theorizing about 2004... Oh, and I made up Joe's last name.

Please archive wherever appropriate. Any feedback is much appreciated.

WARNING: Did I mention the spoilers?

SUMMARY: A letter from Sam triggers Jack's memories of the events of 2004.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: To Linda for the Beta reading, as always.

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. And if you try to sue me...well, I'll just send a message to myself through time so I never write this in the first place! So there!

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DANIEL: How long has it been?
TEAL'C: Six years.
DANIEL: That's the last time we were all...Which reminds me, what was Jack's excuse? I expected to see him here.
CARTER: I don't know. He never answered my letter.
JOE: Do people actually write letters?
-- Excerpt from "2010"

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It was still there.

Jack stared balefully at the envelope from the entrance to the cabin, then turned and set his fishing pole against the wall, his jaw tightening.

The letter had sat there for three days now. He had needed that much time to cool down, to try to fight off the emotions that had surged over him when he had recognized the handwriting on the envelope, three days ago.

He had failed. And the letter was still there.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, then abruptly came to a decision and crossed the room, picking up the envelope in his left hand. Another moment passed while he stared down at it, then, his back stiff, he headed for the door and back outside, sinking into the battered deck chair on his porch and staring unseeingly out across the lake, the letter crumpled and wrinkled in his white-knuckled grasp.

* * *

Six years. Six long years since he had heard from her...from them. Six years since he had walked away from his team, from his friends...from his life. Six years of anger, bubbling resentment, and silent recriminations.

She hadn't believed him. That had been the worst part. Jack could live with everything else, could accept the fact that his team hadn't had enough faith in him to back him up when he had spoken out against the Aschen. He could deal with the fact that the SGC -- hell, the entire world -- had bought into the aliens' lies, lock, stock, and barrel, but Sam... A shaft of pain went through him and his fingers tightened on the letter. No, he could accept everything else. But not that. Never that.

Six years...

* * *

The day had dawned cloudy and cold, threatening rain. All too fitting for a funeral. Colonel O'Neill had straightened the collar of his dress uniform, staring pensively in the mirror for a moment, then had turned and walked slowly out the door.

It was a heart-attack, they said. Caused by normal human aging, and all too many years of stress. This, despite the fact that General Hammond had looked and sounded perfectly healthy the day before. It happened sometimes, Mollem had said. Sometimes, despite all the Aschen's technology and knowledge, they could do nothing. They were sorry, the alien had told him.

Sorry. General Hammond was dead, and Mollem was sorry. Jack clenched his teeth as another wave of anger surged through him. It had been growing inside him for months now, a mounting sense of fury and frustration at the way the Aschen were ingratiating themselves with mankind, taking over every level of society. And fury at the way everyone refused to listen to his warnings. Especially...

Jack shook his head slightly and put the thought aside. It didn't matter. This time they *would* listen to him. He would convince them that he was right, that they were deluding themselves. The Aschen were a danger to Earth. He had no doubts about this, not anymore. Not after his latest...and last...confrontation at the White House.

That side of things was over, at least. He had tried going through proper channels for the last time, had alienated one too many high-ranking officials. They wouldn't help him. It was up to him now. And SG1. The military might be disappearing faster than melting snow, but he still had his team. It wouldn't be easy, not with the entire planet falling on its proverbial knees to lick the aliens' boots, and that damned ambassador constantly extolling the Aschen's virtues and what they were doing for humanity...but SG1 had faced impossible odds before. This was no worse than dealing with the Goa'uld or the rest of the enemies they had fought off with little more than perseverance and a whole lot of luck. But still...

...it would be harder this time, without the General to back them up. General Hammond had always been there for them, they had always been able to count on him. Pain replaced the anger within Jack for a moment and he closed his eyes. No, this time they were on their own.

* * *

The rest of SG1 were clustered close together, as if drawing comfort from each other's presence. Janet stood a little way off, her face pale. The rest of the SGC -- what was left of it that is -- stood in rows behind the honour guard. And...Jack narrowed his eyes...Mollem and Joe Gilmore, the human ambassador the Aschen had chosen, were there too. Jack fought off another burst of fury. They had no right to be there, this was for the SGC, for General Hammond. The damned alien and his human lackey had no right intruding on this. As he watched, Joe turned and said something quietly to Sam, who gave him a pained smile in return.

Resentment bubbling within him, Jack took his place, and steeled himself for what was to come -- the funeral...and afterwards.

* * *

"It was a nice eulogy, wasn't it Sir?" There was an unusual note of hesitancy in Sam's voice, as if she wasn't quite sure how he would react. The others similarly held themselves a little way apart from him, expecting...what? Jack grimaced briefly. Expecting another confrontation, a voice deep inside him supplied. One more yelling match, one more shouted argument.

His grimace deepened. No. No more arguments. Just...the truth. And trust. And finding a way to defeat the Aschen, no matter what it might take. For the first time in a long while, a feeling of hope went through him. They could do this...together.

The rest of the SGC had dispersed by this time, but out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Joe and Mollem standing a little way off, conversing quietly. Another shaft of irritation went through him. He couldn't even do this without the constant presence of those two. He fought it down. It didn't matter. Not anymore. One way or another, it ended today. Either his team sided with him against the Aschen or...or they didn't.

"I was at the White House," he said abruptly, turning back to Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c. "They threw me out. Again."

They blinked, but said nothing, and there was no real surprise on their faces. Daniel shifted uneasily. "I...can't say that I'm surprised Jack," he said quietly. "I mean, after..." His voice trailed off.

"After I've spent the last year ticking off everyone in DC, you mean?"

"Yeah, well, you haven't exactly kept your feelings hidden."

"No. No I haven't." This was it. Moment of truth. Do or die. Jack met each of their eyes, holding their gazes for a long time, then said quietly. "I'm not going to repeat what I've said in the past. This isn't the time or the place for it. And besides," he continued, "you already know how I feel about what's been happening." They nodded, albeit a little reluctantly.

"It comes down to this," Jack continued. "I'm going to stop the Aschen. Any way I can. What I want to know is -- are you going to help me?"

He could see the denial in their eyes already. Daniel looked away and kicked absently at a dead leaf on the ground, while Sam's face had flooded with guilt. Teal'c remained as impassive as ever, but he too said nothing. Jack's shoulders sagged as disbelief and a blinding sense of betrayal shot through him.

"Sir, I...we..." There was a catch in Sam's voice and she had to struggle to maintain eye contact with him. "The Aschen have..."

He didn't let her finish. "Save it Carter." His voice was hard and cold now, only his clenched teeth giving any indication of the emotions raging within him. "Fine," he said harshly. "Fair enough. I asked, you answered. End of story. Have a nice life." He started to turn away.

Sam's hand shot out, her fingers tightening around his left wrist, and there was real pain in her eyes. "Sir...Jack... please. Don't go..." Her voice broke. "Not like this. We can talk about it, maybe..."

"No Carter. We can't. It's too late." Gently, he removed her hand from his arm and stepped back, taking a last, long look at them. "Someday you'll look back on this day and realize you should have listened to me...but I won't be there to see it. I just hope you can find a way to live with yourselves when that happens." And then he turned and walked away. Away from his life. Away from his team...away from her.

He did not look back.

* * *

Jack's fist tightened around the letter. Why was she writing to him now, after everything that had happened? Or not happened. The Aschen had gone unchallenged and effectively ruled the Earth, whether anyone realized it or not. The SGC, hell, almost the entire military was gone, no longer needed, according to those who still thought they were in charge. And Carter...Carter had married Joe Gilmore, the Aschen ambassador, and was very happy, from what he had heard.

Abruptly Jack stood and strode back into the cabin's interior, darker now that the sun was sinking behind the distant trees. The fire he had lit earlier still burned in the fireplace, its flames causing shadows to dance around the cabin walls.

Jack did not pause. Instead, he let the still unopened letter fall from his fingers into the fireplace. Almost immediately its edges began to blacken and then it caught fire, disappearing within seconds. Just like everything else that had ever mattered to him.

Jack straightened and turned away. For a moment he felt unaccountably cold, despite the fire's warmth and a brief flicker of sorrow went through him. But then the memory of that day, six years ago, returned and his shoulders straightened. His expression grim he crossed the cabin floor once more and went out into the darkness, slamming the door behind him.

THE END

"As Giles continues to speak, he is suddenly dubbed into French. We can see him talking but we can't understand a word any more than Xander can, unless we speak French, in which case la di da aren't we intellectual? I'm not Joe Dictionary, all right?" -- Joss Whedon, from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer script "Restless"