Title: Love Lost
Author: Secret Art
E-mail: [email protected]
Date: 27th January 2005
Category: angst, romance
Pairings: Sam/Jack, Sam/Other, Jack/Other
Spoilers: none
Summary: Sam looks on at what could have been
Feedback: can only make me better
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.
Author’s note: Nice angsty what-if fic.
I’m not in love, I can’t be in love, I’m not allowed to be in love. Yet all he has to do is look at me, grin that grin and I can feel my heart screaming it.
I tried so hard to pretend it wasn’t true, convinced myself that it was meaningless, and it worked…for a while. But everyone else could see it, knew that we were pretending, what we were hiding. We couldn’t hide it from the world and eventually we couldn’t hide it from ourselves.
So we admitted it, never actually saying the words but the meaning was crystal clear, I am yours, now and forever. We never tested it, never tried to find out what would happen. The odd hug, kisses that were never real, we hid behind the rules, behind our walls, too afraid to do anything.
So I moved on, found myself someone who was willing, even agreed to wear his ring. He loves me, I am sure of that, and would give me a happy, safe life; all that I ever dreamed of as a child. It was never meant to last, it was my way of hurting him, making him admit the truth, tell me that he wanted me, and I him, but he never did.
It no longer matters, there is no future anymore, no possibilities, now all I have is my safe future, love that I cannot return, lost in what ifs, what could have been.
I watch the wedding through the windows of the church; glad the rain is hiding my tears. He will never know how I felt about him, I will never know if he felt the same, whether we could have worked.
I turn and walk towards the car waiting for me, the man inside; he is no Jack O’Neill, but he is the only future I have left.
Fin