Divergence

Author: Badgergater

Email: [email protected]

Season: After 8, before 9

Episode: Sequel to Moebius 2

Summary: After you’ve saved the world, again, and again, what do you do for an encore?

Rating: Anyone

Pairing: None

Warning: Sad

Category: Missing scene, at the end of S8

Spoilers: S8 and the first eps of S9

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Sci-Fi, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent.

Author’s pledge: This fic, like all Badgergater fics, is accurately and honestly labeled, providing the potential reader with the honest facts to make a choice whether or not to read

Author’s note: Thanks again to Cokie for the beta, to Margo for the encouragement<G>, and to all those who feedback: this is another scene we should have gotten, to explain what happened to SG-1. After eight years, the fans deserved better than the pitiful muddled mess we got with no explanations, no partings, and no goodbyes.

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It’s inevitable.

All good things must come to an end, like ice cream cones, vacations, fishing trips, careers.

After eight long, eventful years as a team, it was SG-1’s first trip to my cabin, and I knew it would also be our last.

We’d spent the weekend relaxing, doing all those vacation things like fishing, playing cards, hiking, eating too much and drinking too much. Now it was our final night and much as I knew we all wanted to ignore the elephant in our midst, we could no longer keep avoiding the subject we’d spent the whole trip avoiding.

Time was running out, for our trip, for SG-1, for our lives as we knew them.

We were on the brink of change, big and honkin’ giant change as a matter of fact.

We’d finished our last meal together. Maybe, in honor of the last eight years, it should have been MREs but that would have been cruel. I’d made steaks on the grill, baked potatoes in the fire pit and fixed a salad, well, okay, I’d sent Daniel and Carter to town to buy salad down at the local Piggly Wiggly grocery. We’d washed the meal down with beer, all of us except for Teal’c. Even without Junior, he still preferred apple cider to alcoholic beverages.

So, bellies full, we gathered for our final night on the lawn beside the pond, slathered with bug repellent, listening to the loons call as the sun set and darkness settled in around us.

The minutes flew past, and it was time. I took a swig of my beer and asked the question we’d all spent the last few days refusing to admit needed to be answered. "So, kids, what’s next?"

It got very quiet. I could hear the mosquitoes buzzing and the water lapping at the edge of pond.

No one, not even the usually talkative Daniel, said anything. I turned to look at them, their faces shadowy in the dim light of dusk.

These people were my friends. My comrades. My cohorts. My team. My former team, to be accurate, I reminded myself.

SG-1, extraordinary as it had been, was no more.

I felt my heart stutter.

Endings, after all, are sad.

We'd had an incredible run, but the clock had finally run out. There was no time left on the board. No more time outs. No overtime.

Our game was done. We all knew it, we just hadn’t admitted it yet, at least, not out loud and to each other. So, still the team leader, even if I wasn't really, I went first to get the reality ball rolling.

"Me," I waved my hand at the surrounding woods, spilling a few drops of Heineken, "me, I’m staying here. Feeding the mosquitoes. Annoying the fish. Laughing with the loons."

"You’re retiring, Sir?" Carter sounded surprised.

"It’s about time, don’t you think?" I answered glibly, though I didn’t feel very glib. Just saying the words seemed to suddenly make them real and irrevocable. And yeah, I’d been retired before, and I hadn’t much enjoyed it. Of course, back then, it had been for entirely different reasons. And I'd pretty much been an entirely different man.

"Retiring? Really?" Daniel asked.

"Really." I stated more emphatically than I felt. I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with retirement. I need to be busy. I love the cabin and the pond, had cherished all the peace and quiet as an antidote to the work I’d been doing for the last eight years. But to tell the truth, I was a little worried how I’d deal with the bucolic life here on a full-time basis. I didn’t want to turn into some cranky old hermit, living up here all by myself, and I knew I had the capacity to do just that if I wasn’t careful.

"There is still much work to be done, O’Neill," Teal’c suggested.

"He’s right, Sir," Carter added.

I looked up at the stars just beginning to appear in the flawless ebony sky overhead. This was a great place for stargazing. "Look, guys, sitting behind a desk just isn’t what I joined the Air Force to do, you know? Besides, it’s someone else’s turn to decide whether to order blue Bics or black Sharpies." I waved a hand at the cabin. "I’m gonna fix up this place, get a dog, take up curling, maybe even write that book no one will ever be allowed to read."

"Really, Sir?" Carter was genuinely surprised at that one.

"Why not? Some day the Stargate will become public knowledge. And people should know about the work people did, why so many gave their lives," my tone turned somber. "They deserve the truth, not some whitewashed official government hype." They being the SGC personnel who had served and died, people like Doc, Kawalsky, Elliott, Rothman and yes, even Frank Cromwell.

Having said my piece, I turned the conversation away from me and towards them. "Teal’c, you’ll be off to Dakara I imagine."

He nodded. "Indeed, the Jaffa are striving to build a new society, and finding that it is a more difficult task than we had anticipated."

"You *should* be there," I urged. Teal'c really deserved to be part of the incredible things happening for his people, things he'd been instrumental in creating. I hoped he was happy, seeing his dream come true at last, seeing his people free, and knowing he had played such a huge part in it. Though I would miss him more than I could ever admit, I was genuinely thrilled for him.

"I will take with me all that I’ve learned from your people," he added.

"God, not all of it, I hope, T."

There was a hint of humor in his tone. "Even bad examples may become excellent teaching tools."

"Yes, that’s true." I hadn’t missed the totally out of character complete silence emanating from Daniel. "Daniel? You?"

"Well, if you’re no longer going to stop me, I’ll go to Atlantis," he answered.

From his tone, I half wondered if he really did want me to stop him. Then again, I’d been right to prevent him from going with Weir’s expedition. After all, where would we have been without his help in getting Oma to stop Anubis? Being the gentleman that I am, however, I refrained from reminding him of that important fact.

"I’ve already arranged to go with the Daedalus. From their reports, the city is fabulous and---" he continued on, his words tumbling out faster and faster in his excitement.

I was happy for him, too. He'd always loved the greet and meet of exploration, and the Pegasus galaxy had to be just chock full of new people and new cultures for him to study.

When he’d finally worn down, I turned to the fourth member of SG-1.

"So, Carter, you going with him?" That would be a good thing. I’d feel better if they were together, the two brainiacs, looking out for each other.

"Actually, Sir, I’ve applied for the vacant post heading up the alien technology department at Area 51," the lieutenant colonel announced.

"Applied? Only applied? As if they’d turn you down, Carter," I smirked.

"It is a much sought after position, Sir. I know several other people who’ve put in applications, including Dr. Lee."

I snorted. "Dr. Lee? He's the competition? Then there’s absolutely no doubt you’ll get it, Carter. If it’s what you want."

"Definitely, Sir. We’ve only begun to scratch the surface of the knowledge we can glean from the artifacts stored there. After all, we brought back thousands of items from all over the galaxy over the past eight years. There are hundreds of items sitting there, waiting to be examined, things no one’s even studied at all—" As she went on, her voice sounded as excited as Daniel’s had, and as optimistic as Teal’c’s had been.

They all sounded eager, even enthused, in stark contrast to how I felt. Why was I the only one who felt so unsure of where I was going? So unsure if I was making the right choice? The only one seeing my future as an ending, not a new beginning?

So, okay, face up to it, I was the one feeling alone and left out.

Maybe because my kids were outgrowing me, outgrowing their need for me and my leadership.

I suddenly felt as old as my gray hair said I was.

Passed by.

And left behind.

Being older than the rest of them, well, except for Teal’c, I had the experience to know what was about to happen. I didn’t want this to end, not just this night, with all of us sitting here as friends, but I didn’t want this time to end because it was a special time. We’d shared so much together, more than any four people had been through together, maybe ever in the history of people.

Yes, I knew we might all meet up again, but chances are, we wouldn’t. And even if we did, it wouldn’t be the same because we wouldn’t be the same. We’d be recalling our time together, but we’d be looking at it from a distance, from the perspective of new times and new places. We were moving on.

Something special was ending, never to be the same, never to be regained, but forever to be cherished and treasured.

At least, I hoped they felt that way.

I drained my beer and felt the heavy silence all around me. We were all thinking, keeping our thoughts to ourselves, each of us locked up in our own memories and regrets.

I looked up then, at the stars which had once been our battlefield, and our playground.

SG-1’s time had been amazing.

But our time was past.

SG-1 was no more.

It was official. Without ever actually saying it, we’d all just announced it to each other.

It was over.

Done.

Completed.

Time to turn out the lights and lock the door.

The party was over.

No one said anything else.

I think we were all trying, each of us in our own way, to come to grips with what was happening. I was glad no one was making phony promises to keep in touch, because inevitably, they always were just that, well-meaning pledges that turned into guilt trips because no one made the effort.

It was a lot like getting divorced, actually, though maybe less rancorous. And there was no property to fight over, no settlements needed, no kids to get lost in the shuffle. No lawyers, either, now there was a good thing at least.

Just a lot of regrets, unfinished business and sad, guilty farewells.

Things left unspoken, some better for it, others not.

Eight years had been a long time, a large part and a good part of our lives spent together, defying death.

We were taking with us secrets we could share with no one else; tales of losses suffered, pain endured, grief overcome, chances taken, opportunities missed, and the too infrequent victories won.

Retirement.

I was going to enjoy it.

I was.

I *was*, damn it.

Freedom to go where I wanted, do what I wanted, wear what I wanted. No politicians. No Class As. No need to shave. No alarm clocks, no middle of the night wake-up calls. No one ordering me to do this or don’t do that.

An opportunity to just be me.

Except, there was this little voice in the back of my head, reminding me that I didn’t know who I was. Or what I wanted.

I was a, relatively, young man, to be retired at least. Fifty-two isn’t that old. I had twenty, thirty, maybe even forty years left, so I’d better find something, beside fishing, astronomy and The Simpsons to fill my time. Most ex-military guys found a second career. Then again, most ex-military guys had a family to support. And depend on.

And I had neither.

But I did have more beer.

I sighed, and got up, walking carefully in the dark over to the cooler and digging out another Heineken. Back in my chair, I popped the top and took a long swallow.

I’d have to watch the beer. It would be too easy to let it be a crutch, a way to fill time and drown my regrets, not to mention the risk of developing a beer belly.

I knew retirement would be dull after what I’d been doing for the past three decades, what wouldn't be? But suddenly, life yawned as an empty chasm that I’d have to find a way to fill.

Maybe I’d get a bigger boat and start a charter business. Nah, then I’d have to deal with customers.

Coach hockey? The kids would be great but the parents? No way.

Take up curling? It was probably already too late to make the next Olympic team.

I really could write that book no one would be able to read for a long time. Though writing it would, of course, mean I’d have to delve around in all those ugly memories locked away inside my head. On second thought, I think not.

Which left— not much.

I was going to have to put a bit more thought into this retirement thing, I realized.

/----------\

It was Carter who broke up the gathering. "I’m going to call it a night, guys," she said softly. "I’ve got an early flight in the morning, to get out to Area 51."

"Me, too," Daniel echoed. "I’ve got to start packing for the Daedalus."

"It’s been fun, Sir," she added. "This place is great."

"Come up and visit anytime. Any of you," I invited. "You're always invited."

"Thank you, Sir. I will."

And I knew at the moment Carter meant it, but she wouldn’t. That’s how it was, when friends parted, when teams broke up. There were always lots of good intentions, but life inevitably got in the way.

Things over were over, sometimes it took people a while to realize it, but eventually, they did.

I watched Carter's shadow turn and head for the cabin.

"Yeah. I've got to get going early, too. Goodnight." Daniel followed her.

Lights went on inside and I could hear quiet noises in the cabin for a few minutes before the lights went off and the noises stopped.

Just two of us remained out beside the pond, Teal’c and I sitting in companionable silence. Teal'c, who had once long ago called me brother. It was an honor I would never forget, that a man of his stature thought that much of me. It had left me speechless then, and thinking of it threatened to choke me up now. "So, T, when are you leaving?"

"I must depart tomorrow as well."

Ah, so this really was the end then. The nest was emptying fast.

"Perhaps you would accompany me?" he asked.

"To Dakara? I don’t think so."

"You are well respected among the Jaffa."

I almost choked on my beer over that one. "Riiiight, Teal’c. A puny old human—"

"You are not so old."

"Compared to you, no. But I am human."

"You could teach much to the Jaffa."

"Won’t work, Teal’c. Your people have to learn for themselves, figure out their own way. Maybe they’ll listen to you, but me, I’d just be in the way." In the faint starlight, I saw him nod slightly. He knew I was right. The Jaffa were going to have a hard time learning to govern themselves. It wasn’t ever easy, even here on Earth, where we had examples and even a bit of history on our side. And if I got involved? No matter how well meaning, the Jaffa would only resent what would be seen as human interference.

"You will be missed."

"Oh, yeah, right."

"I will miss you. As will Bra’tak."

"You guys can take care of yourselves," The beer was making me maudlin. "You always could."

"But our partnership made all of us stronger. The whole was indeed greater than the sum of the parts."

"Usually is," I muttered. "But there comes a time, T, for a man to fly the coop and try out his own wings."

His answer was, as always, honest. "I fear we may not be ready."

Was he talking about the Jaffa, or about the four of us who had been SG-1? "Trust in yourselves. You’ll find a way." I waved a hand upwards, at the stars. "Embrace the future, Teal’c. It’s all there is."

"But we must not forget the past, nor all that it has taught us."

"No, we mustn’t."

"I have read that one of your wise men once wrote that the journey is the reward."

"Good thought."

"Our journey was rewarding, but it is not over."

"No, it’s not. But we’re all off on our own separate journeys now, T. Diverging paths and all that."

He was silent for a moment. "I will miss my brother."

"Back at ‘ya, T."

"Be well, O’Neill."

"Yeahsureyoubetcha."

He stood then, and bowed in that regal way, and disappeared into the cabin.

I sat alone and looked up at the stars, and wished it was not ending.

--The End--