Disclaimer: STARGATE is a registered trademark of MGM/UA and SHOWTIME-Online. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement to those rights and is written solely for entertainment. No copyright infringement intended. I'm only borrowing the characters and will give them back when I'm done writing. I derive no profit from this story other than the satisfaction of letting my imagination roam around in someone else's universe. So, on to the story…
Foreword: This one really isn't a gutter story, but it is a love story. It was inspired by a couple of unrelated incidents that went "click" in my mind. The first was an obituary in the newspaper for Jack O'Neill (even spelled the right way!). And then I saw "Message in a Bottle" and my "what if" buttons started to itch. The rest, as they say, is history. Oh, and if you haven't figured this out for yourself yet, this story pairs Sam with Jack. If that squicks you, then perhaps you shouldn't read on!
Captain Samantha Carter sat on the floor against the wall, because it was where she had ended up.
She had, finally, stepped backwards from the scene in front of her, as if by separating it from her with distance, she could leave it behind or cause it to disappear, like the nightmare it was. She had barely felt the wall behind her when her backward motion was halted, and was unaware that the strength was leaving her legs as she was sliding down to the floor.
And yet her eyes continued to register the horror in front of her - a horror of her own making.
This had all been her fault, since she had first told Jack on P5T 353 that they could sure use a power source that lasted for thousands of years.
She could recall the terror she had felt when the artifact had sent those vicious spikes into the walls of the gate room as they tried to send it back to P5T 353, one of them piercing Jack's shoulder and pinning him to the wall. Sam had watched with horror as tears of pain had tracked down his face, and knew it was her fault.
But it was Daniel who had had the courage to apologise to General Hammond. She had stood beside him, mute, wanting to apologise too - wanting the General's absolution for this act of hers which had brought them to this situation.
Throughout the long hours, as they worked frantically to discover the secrets of the artifact and how to beat the organisms infecting the base and its personnel, she had blamed herself for their state. It did not matter that Jack and Teal'C felt the same way.
When Daniel had discovered that he believed the artifact was trying to communicate, she had made the recommendation to feed it with energy, and to stop Jack's medication to allow him to be the "conduit". She had told him the risks and he had squeezed her hand in acknowledgment - he knew the stakes. When she had felt his throat and found no pulse, she had been saddened and yet strangely detached.
When the creatures had spoken through Jack, she had felt hope. They spoe of Jack, his wishes and desires, and she felt that he still lived, that he would be somehow returned to them.
Then had come the frightening moment, after their offer to transport the organisms to the primordial world of P4G 881, when Jack's head had lolled back against the wall and she feared they had lost him for good.
Things all happened at once it seemed - the power had shut off and then the computers began to reboot. General Hammond had given the order to dial up P4G 881 and she had followed him to the control room to assist in shutting down the auto self destruct.
She had watched Jack freed of the spike, walking to the artifact, holding it as the organisms in his body and elsewhere in the base were recalled and channelled into the artifact for transport.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the gate had opened and Jack had strode up the ramp with the artifact, placing it through the event horizon. As it left his hands, he fell backwards onto the ramp as if poleaxed.
Sam and General Hammond worked frantically to input the codes to halt the self destruct sequence and for a few seconds Jack was out of her mind. If they didn't shut down the auto self destruct, none of them would survive.
But the second the computer announced they were safe, she was out of the control room and running for the gate room.
She was at Jack's side with Teal'C and Daniel in a moment, but Jack wasn't moving. Teal'C shook his shoulder gently, calling "O'Neill" - at first softly, then with a degree of urgency.
From his post in the control room, General Hammond knew something wasn't right and called for the medical team who were standing by.
Janet Frasier was right there, and the rest of SG-1 fell back as she flew up the ramp, taking charge. Her fingers went to Jack's throat, as Sam's had earlier, and reported that once again there was no pulse.
SG-1 moved back down off the ramp as Dr Frasier and her medics worked over Jack. They moved him to a stretcher and down off the ramp, but that was as far as they went. Medical equipment had been standing by, just in case it was needed. Terrifyingly, now it was.
"Get the crash cart," ordered Dr Frasier, seeking and still not finding a pulse in Jack's throat, despite the CPR efforts of her staff. Seconds later she was calling "Clear!" and applying the paddles to Jack's bared chest, noting clinically that there was no wound where the probe had been.
But the paddles produced no results that time, nor the time after that.
That was when Sam had started backing away. Dr Frasier was snapping orders to her medics, still unwilling to give up the fight for Jack O'Neill's life. But Sam knew it was over.
Jack O'Neill was dead.
When Janet finally admitted to defeat, her voice breaking as she made the formal announcement by calling the time of death, the tableaux was broken. General Hammond, Daniel and Teal'C had been standing to one side while Janet and her team worked at the base of the ramp. Sam was against the opposite wall, below the spot where Jack had been pinned.
General Hammond was the first to move. He walked to Janet's side, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You did everything you could, Doctor."
She nodded, but did not speak. One of the medics took a sheet and draped it over Jack's forever still form, and they wheeled his body out.
Next, the General turned to deal with the rest of SG-1. Daniel and Teal'C were standing together, identical expressions of stunned grief etching their faces. Wisely, General Hammond knew there was nothing he could say, and that right now they were almost beyond hearing.
"Teal'C, Dr Jackson, stand down," he said quietly.
"Sir . . ." Daniel began.
"Later, son - we'll talk later. For now, return to your quarters. Alright?"
Daniel and Teal'C nodded and moved to the exit of the gate room. General Hammond saw how slowly they moved, and judged that Dr Frasier and her team would have cleared the elevator before the two men arrived. He wanted no more shocks for them right now.
He turned to Sam, and was surprised to find that the Captain had gone. She was career military - of the remaining members of SG-1, he had expected her to remain awaiting orders. But she was nowhere to be seen.
General Hammond knew that under these circumstances, things were likely to be a little crazy, so he shrugged it off. He would call everyone together once Dr Frasier had the post mortem exam results from O'Neill, so they could debrief.
He moved to the stairs, heading for his office. There was always plenty of paperwork when a death occurred in any command. His feet were as leaden as his heart. He had liked O'Neill immensely, and treasured his input as leader of SG-1. The man would leave a void that would not easily be filled, he mused as he went to start the wheels of bureaucracy turning.
Sam had been walking the corridors. She found that if she kept moving, it seemed that her thoughts could not quite catch up with her. So she wandered. She avoided everyone, taking side corridors and ducking into offices. She didn't want to talk to anyone - not yet.
It was Daniel who found her. The strain of the past few days had caught up with her ans she could walk no more. But that meant that her thoughts were given free reign. She was huddled in a ball at the end of one of the corridors near the detention cells, rocking back and forth, muttering, when Daniel saw her. As he approached, he realised what she was saying:
"It was my fault."
He knelt beside her, the ache in his heart at the loss of Jack deepened by the sorrow of discovering that Sam was blaming herself for the tragedy. He slipped his arms around her and held her close, stroking her hair as she rocked and muttered.
"Sam, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered, trying to break through to her.
She stopped her litany, and clung to him. He continued to stroke her hair, and soon her tears began. And as she cried, he held her tighter and his tears flowed as freely as hers.
Unnoticed, Teal'C moved quietly away. He knew his team mates would take care of one another. He returned to his quarters and lit the meditation candles. He sat amid them, focusing his awareness, and he grieved for Jack O'Neill in his own way.
Twenty four hours later, General Hammond assembled his people for the official debriefing into the recent crisis and the death of Colonel Jack O'Neill.
They covered everything - the state of the base, the computer systems, personnel. The good news was that there had been only one casualty - Jack O'Neill. Lt Graham Simmons, the most gravely ill of the personnel who had been infected, had held on long enough for the organisms to be removed by the artefact for transport. Though still very weak, the prognosis for the Lieutenant was good.
Then it was time to talk about Jack. Very quietly, Dr Frasier explained her post mortem findings. Jack had died as a result of a burst aortic aneurysm. The weakness in the aorta had never been suspected, which was often the case with an aneurysm. It appeared that the stress of the trauma, and the effects of the "infection" had weakened the artery wall further. It was Dr Frasier's belief that the presence of the organisms had kept the artery wall intact, and that their withdrawal had allowed the aneurysm to burst, killing Jack instantly.
In response to a question from General Hammond, Dr Frasier admitted that the only way to have saved Jack would have been to have him on an operating table with his chest open at the time that the aneurysm ruptured. She explained that, unless the weakness were found and repaired, a rupture of this kind and size of aneurysm was always fatal.
General Hammond nodded. He knew his people, knew that they would be blaming themselves for perceived failures on their parts that had led ultimately to Jack O'Neill's death in the gate room. He had had a steady stream of people, penitents he would have called them, coming to him in the last day, convinced that it was their actions which had led to the disaster.
Surprisingly, Captain Carter had not been once of them. But giver her hollow eyed look, it was apparent that she wasn't sleeping, and General Hammond figured that was likely because she was conducting her own "what if" party.
Given all that, he was expecting what came next. Sam gave her own view of events and, unsurprisingly, it was her decisions or advice at crucial junctures that she believed had led to the ending they were now discussing.
And that was when General Hammond put his foot down, gently but firmly. He told Sam that her advice had been right on the money at every stage, and that she and Daniel had come up with the final solution. A solution that had allowed the organisms to go on living on another world and had saved all of them from an immediate death, and the rest of the earth from a longer term demise.
And then he reminded them all of two important things. That while Jack O'Neill's death had been hastened by his infection by the organisms, it was inevitable as the medical evidence had shown. And that, ultimately, it had been Colonel O'Neill's decision to bring the artefact back through the Stargate, and his, General Hammond's, decision to let it be brought into the facility.
And, although the conversation continued for some little while, that was really the end of the matter.
Later that day, General Hammond called SG-1 to his office.
"Colonel O'Neill asked me some time ago to take responsibility for funeral arrangements, should seomthing happen to him. His requests were fairly simple, but he did ask that any of his team who wished to speak should be allowed to do so. I assume you would like to say a few words, Captain Carter, but what about you Dr Jackson? Teal'C?"
Sam nodded and listened as both Daniel and Teal'C told the General that they wished to speak at the memorial service Jack had requested.
As General Hammond elaborated on the arrangements, Sam suddenly felt the urge to refuse to speak at the service. Her mind was yammering at her, and she had to press her lips firmly together to prevent the words escaping.
"What on earth?" she wondered to herself.
SG-1 had been stood down indefinitely, waiting to find a new leader. So Daniel and Sam were able to leave the base and return to their homes.
Sam found herself pacing the floors of her apartment. What on earth was wrong with her? She couldn't understand her violent emotional reaction to the idea of speaking at Jack's memorial service. Since the debriefing, she had been able to come to terms with her feelings of guilt, so that wasn't it.
But something in her couldn't face Jack's memorial service. Something almost . . . primal.
Sam wasn't introspective by nature. Like most military types, she was a creature of action, not one who thought endlessly. But then her emotions were usually not complex - happiness, excitement at new discoveries, fear . . . but not like this fear. She had been afraid before, when there had been a threat of physical harm. But this hear was nothing like that.
This was a deep dark thing, that wouldn't come into the light to be examined. And that was puzzling too. Sam's inquiring mind always wanted to find out the "why" of things, and it was incredibly galling to be baulked by her own feelings.
She poured a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa. Across from her, on the side table, was a framed photo. Daniel had given it to her for her last birthday. A shot of the SG-1 team, taken at a barbeque at Jack's house. They were celebrating their victory over Apophis - a special occasion if ever there was one. Add to that Daniel's miraculous escape - as Jack had become fond of saying, "Well, it's surprisingly difficult to kill you, isn't it?"
So they were all happy and relaxed, enjoying one another's company. And Janet Frasier had called them together for a photo. Sam remembered General Hammond, pleasantly buzzing after a few beers, saying he wanted a copy for his office, so he could remind himself of what they had done and how much he liked them the next time he had to chew them out for screwing up.
It struck them all as funny, and as they laughed, Janet had taken the photo.
As she studied the photo, Sam was transported back to the moment - standing between Jack and Daniel, the colonel's arm draped across her shoulders as her arms went around his and Daniel's waists.
She could remember the intoxicating male scents, the warmth of theur bodies. But mostly the memory was of Jack - the spciy warm scent of his aftershave, the warmth of his body permeating through his shirt to her fingers, the feel of his arm about her shoulders.
The grief hit her hard then - the memory of Jack was all they had left. There would be no more friendly barbeques, no more cups of coffee in the mess . . . and she would never again feel the warmth of his body next to hers.
Suddenly sam sat bolt upright, her tear-wet eyes widening as she saw at last what she had been hiding from herself, what she now had to admit - that she had loved Jack O'Neill, and had lost him before getting the chance to tell him.
She hadn't had a chance to discover if the feeling was mutual. To work out the intricacies of a relationship forbidden expressly by the Uniform Code of Military Justice - he was her commanding officer after all.
She guessed that was why she had hidden this from herself - because she could not face the choice of expressing her love and then denying it forever, or leaving SG-1, and possibly even the SGC, to continue it.
The tears continued to roll down her face as she sat huddled on her sofa. All she had now were her memories of Jack, treasured vignettes of their time together. And these she turned over endlessly in her mind, through the long sleepless hours, each one sharp and fresh and all the more precious in the light of her finally acknowledged love for him.
The memorial service was this afternoon, Sam reminded herself in a panicky tone. THIS AFTERNOON!! She was expected to speak, to say something about the man who had been her commanding officer, her friend.
But the words just would not come. Oh, she had a million things she wanted to say, but at the top of the list was "I loved him and he's gone and I never got the chance to tell him." She had a hunch that one wouldn't play in Peoria!
She got up, paced, muttered, and then a well worded phrase was suddenly there. She reached down for her pad and pen to capture it before it escaped.
The pen spun from her grasping fingers and skittered across the floor, coming to rest at the foot of a bookshelf. Damn Murphy's Law, she cursed to herself as she crossed the room and bent to pick it up. As she stood, a slender volume caught her eye. And suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to say.
Captain Samantha Carter sat in the first row of the small chapel on the grounds of the airforce base, not far from Cheyenne Mountain.
Jack O'Neill's friends and colleagues from the SGC had gathered there, as per his request, to farewell him. There was no casket - Jack's instructions were that his actual burial be attended only by members of his family, and that had taken place last week.
Here, instead, was a portrait of Jack in uniform - SGC uniform. This was the man that they had gathered to remember and to farewell.
General Hammond had agreed to Sam's request to speak last, so now she sat, listening to others deliver their tributes.
General Hammond himself spoke of his respect for Jack as an officer and as his 2IC. He also spoke fondly of how exasperating Jack could be as a subordinate officer. No one here intended to gild the lily, it seemed - they wanted to remember Jack as had been: tough, fair . . . human.
Daniel Jackson spoke of their first mission to Abydos together, when the Stargate was activated for the first time, and his work after that with Jack and the SGC. How Jack had his own quest - to find Skaara, while Daniel searched for Sha're. There weren't many dry eyes and Daniel vowed to take up Jack's search for Skaara as his own, explaining that it was a debt of honour he owed a man who had saved his life countless times, and had given him to chance to meet his beloved Sha're.
Teal'C spoke simply of Jack O'Neill in warrior's terms - the highest praise he could give. He also passed on a message from Master Bra'tac, who mourned Jack's loss with them.
Then, suddenly, it was Sam's turn. She stood at the podium, straightening her uniform. Her face, as she looked out at the audience, was calm and serene. She began to speak.
"It was my very great honor to have served under Colonel Jack O'Neill.
The last two years have been a voyage of discovery for all of us, and I was fortunate to be making that journey alongside Colonel O'Neill, as well as Dr Jackson and Teal'C.
My experiences with Colonel O'Neill will seldom be far from my mind, for I know that, whenever I begin a scientific explanation of anything in the future, I will hear him saying "I knew that" and I will be reminded of his humour in accepting that his scientific knowledge was less than my own.
When I go into danger, it will be Colonel O'Neill who I feel at my back, protecting me with his warrior's instinct, his command capability, which was so much superior to mine.
But I will also remember Colonel O'Neill for another reason, and I hope you and he will not mind if I use another's words to express those reasons, because that person can say it far better than I can."
She opened the book in front of her, and began to read:
"Stop all the clocks, cut
off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning
overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my
East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now;
put out everyone one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.©"
"Goodbye Jack."
She took the book and left the chapel, as people began to realise exactly what she has said, and what it meant. In the days following, there were those among those had been at the service who swore that her last words had been "Goodby Jack, I love you".
But Daniel knew better - she hadn't had to say "I love you" - W.H. Auden had done it for her.
Fini
Poem: "Funeral Blues" by W.H.Auden, April 1936
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