Out of the Loop
Author: BadgerGater
E-mail: [email protected]
Season: Four
Category: Missing Scene/epilogue for Window of Opportunity
Summary: Jack reflects on the time spent looping
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Window of Opportunity
Disclaimer: They're not mine, I just borrowed them for this little tale. I understand they belong to MGM, Showtime, Gekko, etc. No copyright infringement intended. No money exchanged hands. No permanent damage inflicted.
Author's Note: With special thanks to the Texas Tornado.
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Jack O'Neill finished his oatmeal. He was glad life was getting back to normal, or at least what passed for normal in the SGC.
Knowing the loop was broken at last, he'd enjoyed this breakfast immensely.
First, because he knew when he was done with breakfast, he was *not* going to have to explain to anyone anything about Malachi and the time machine and coronal masses and geomagnetic storms. Ever again. Ditto with the Latin. Not another word. Ever. Damn, he hated memorizing ancient gobbledygook.
Second, he was happy because today he finally got to eat something other than Fruit Loops. Not that he didn't like Fruit Loops; he did, as a change of pace. And even though he usually told everyone he only ate oatmeal because Doc Fraiser browbeat him into it ("Oatmeal is good for you, Sir. Heart healthy," she'd told him with that knowing smile. Sheesh. What did she think, that he ate cold pizza for breakfast? Hell, no! That's what they'd invented microwaves for, *warm* pizza for breakfast.) The truth was, he actually *liked* oatmeal. Reminded him of times spent with his grandparents, up in northern Minnesota. A steaming bowl of oatmeal hit the spot on a morning when the temperature was 25 below zero, even without accounting for the windchill. He smiled, remembering the warmth of his grandparents home.
And of course, he'd enjoyed this morning's breakfast for the chance to tease Carter and Daniel. God, he relished the look on Carter's face. The Major was going to be thinking in circles for a week at least, maybe a whole month. She'd drop hints, ask clever little off the wall questions, hoping to catch him off guard. Oh, it was going to drive her crazy, wondering what that look had meant and what he/they might have done while everyone was looping, and *that* was making him happy. He grinned. It wasn't often he got one up on Major Perfect Soldier and Way Too Damn Smart Carter.
Then of course, there was Daniel, smart boy, that Daniel. He was thinking too, and he'd figure it out someday, that of course Jack had had a little fun looping. Just *what* fun, however, was going to be the $64,000 question. One he'd never answer, not even under duress. Jack O'Neill knew how to keep a secret, oh yes he did.
O'Neill grinned happily. All work and no play made Jack a dull boy, and one of Jack's greatest aims in life had *always* been to be sure he never got dull. Nope.
Jack picked up his coffee and headed for his office, suddenly just glad Daniel was around to tease. It had been a near thing. O'Neill shuddered at the memory, his bright morning suddenly going darker at the memory.
Malachi had killed him.
During all those weeks of looping, the image had haunted him, like another image still haunted him, of another senseless death.
Damn.
Malachi. Damn it. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to think about Malachi, because thinking about Malachi got him started thinking about other things, things he didn't want to think about, things better left unthought.
Jack slumped in his chair and buried his face in his hands.
This wormhole physics/time travel stuff was way too far over his head. He wasn't dumb, he hadn't earned his eagles by being stupid, but he was no genius. Jack O'Neill knew he wasn't anywhere near the league of a Carter or a Daniel in the brains department, never had been, never would be and honest to God never wanted to be. He was happy with who he was.
Sort of.
Most of the time.
At least once in a while.
Crap.
The walls of his office were closing in. Jack got up, leaving his half full coffee cup behind, and started walking aimlessly through the corridors of the SGC. How many times had he done this while they were looping, he and Teal'c the only ones who knew what was going on? It had been so frustrating.
But there had also been an irrational bit of hope.
Fool, Jack, foolish, hopeless, utterly off the wall and ridiculous.
As off the wall and purely unbelievable as his job was.
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O'Neill had walked for half an hour before he realized he had made at least three aimless circuits through the SGC level 24 corridors and he was once again standing in front of Carter's lab. Looping again, he thought sadly.
He had to go in. There was no other way to get an answer to his question, *if* there was an answer. The Major was the only one who might know the answer, the only human, anyway. The Colonel took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and walked into the lab.
Carter was sitting on one of those tall stools, leaning over a table, intently studying some alien doohickey.
"Hi Carter," he greeted her glibly. He hoped he sounded glib, anyway.
She looked up in surprise. "Well, hello, Sir."
"What 'cha doin‘?" He asked cleverly. He hoped he sounded clever, anyway.
"SG-4 brought this back from P3R-569. It's fascinating, Sir. I'm not sure what it does, yet, but it seems to produce heat and light..."
"Ah hah," he stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth from heel to toe, looking boyishly innocent, or so he hoped.
Carter stopped in mid-babble and took a good look at her CO. She wasn't sure why he was there, she wasn't sure about anything since that odd look he'd given her at breakfast this morning. In fact, Samantha Carter was never sure where she and the Colonel stood. He was her commanding officer, so there were strict rules governing their behavior. She knew she liked him, as a friend, maybe as more, if they had the chance, but they didn't. She had the feeling he felt the same. Not as some passionate, love of their lives soul-mate thing, but as two adults who were attracted to each other, and enjoyed spending time together. But nothing was ever going to come of it, he had his career and she had hers, and despite his invitations to go fishing, they'd never so much as gone to a movie together. He much more so hung out with the boys; beer, pizza and hockey with Teal'c and Daniel was more his style. So what was he doing here in her lab, looking like a lost little boy?
"Sir? Is something wrong?"
"Ah, no. Nothing." He hoped he sounded nonchalant.
"Oh."
"Carter..." Casual was the effect he was striving to achieve.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Carter, about Malachi's device..." Innocuous, no-big deal question, he hoped she'd see it that way.
"It doesn't work, Sir. It never will."
"I know that," he went on irritably, still looking anywhere but at her. "I just was wondering, well, about the whole idea. Of turning back the clock."
"Of turning back time? Well, that's a good question. Colonel. We don't know for sure, but we do know it is possible to *travel* back in time."
"Yeah, I remember 1969. Twice."
"That shows it is possible for human beings to time travel. So, therefore, theoretically it would be possible to find another method of time travel. Fascinating project, actually..."
With a wave of his hand he cut her off before she got into the details. He didn't want details. He just wanted a plain, simple, yes or no answer. "So, Carter, it is possible then?"
"Probably, Sir." She was staring at him, wondering why he was asking. He avoided science like it was a room full of Goa'ulds with Anthrax. "Is there a reason for the questions, Sir?"
"Ah, no. No. Just wondering. You know. Thought I might like to try the time travel thing again some day. Recapture my lost youth and all that." He suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Ah, got to go, Carter. Thanks."
"Sir?" Sam shook her head, running a hand through her blonde hair. Four years they'd worked together and still she didn't understand the Colonel. Shrugging in confusion, she turned back to her work.
He'd gotten out of there without giving too much away, hadn't he? Or so he hoped.
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Jack walked, not knowing or caring where, just walking.
He locked up his office and went home early, without even asking the General's permission. He had to get away, get off by himself and think, think through what he was feeling.
He'd never been good at dealing with his feelings, not the real ones. Oh sure, he put on his snarly Colonel act, his dumb as a post, unthinking, unfeeling military macho jock outward appearances. But what he really thought and felt, he kept hidden inside. His real feelings he took out and examined on only those rare, solitary occasions introspection couldn't be avoided.
Tonight was one of them.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, it was dusk. He bypassed the house and headed straight for the ladder. He hadn't been up on the roof for a long time, he'd been too tired and too busy and too wrapped up in the here and the now to think much, or so he told himself.
Right, Jack, avoiding the subject still, he chided himself.
There were bright colored leaves scattered on the chairs on his rooftop observatory. He brushed them off and sank down into the chair, letting his eyes drift upward to the sky.
Malachi was out there somewhere.
He understood Malachi.
Jack scrubbed a hand across his face, closing his eyes.
He understood Malachi. He didn't want to understand Malachi, but he did.
He especially didn't want to admit that, or the rest of what he'd thought and felt, either.
All those weeks, while they were looping, deep down inside Jack wanted Malachi to succeed, he
wanted there to be a way to go back to the past, to fix the past, or at least revisit the good times.
He'd give anything for one more moment with Charlie, one moment, one touch, one hug, one word, one chance to tell his son that he loved him, that he was sorry, that he.... he.... oh God.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't even hear the car pull in or the voice calling from the bottom of the ladder. Daniel just seemed to appear up on the roof with him.
Jackson didn't say anything, just brushed leaves off that chair as well and sank down silently.
The light faded from the sky, stars appearing one by one. A few clouds drifted across the sky.
"You okay?" Daniel finally asked softly.
"No."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No."
"So you're not going to tell me about it?"
"No."
Long minutes of quiet.
"I talked to Sam," Daniel said softly.
"About what?"
"She was worried about you. Said you were asking science questions."
"What's wrong with that?" Jack snapped defensively.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Except I'm wondering if all that looping did something to your brain."
"No."
"Too much Latin messed up your normal, okay, well, your regular brain patterns."
"Oh. No. Brain still works the same as ever."
"Well, that's good. I think," Daniel answered pensively. "So something's got you upset."
"I'm not upset."
"Then why are you sitting up here in the dark?"
"I'm stargazing."
"Forgot your telescope, your binoculars and your starcharts."
"Don't need 'em."
"Right." Daniel studied the sky for a moment. "I understand."
"No, you don't."
"Okay, no I don't. Not completely. But I understand enough."
Silence.
Daniel leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. "I'd do anything to bring Sha're back."
"No, you wouldn't. You've got a conscience."
"And you don't?"
"Lost mine a long time ago."
Daniel shook his head no, then realized Jack couldn't see it. "No one would blame you for wanting to see your son again."
"You don't get it Daniel," O'Neill snapped, his voice rising in anger, pulling his gaze away from the stars and for the first time looking over at his visitor. "I don't want to see him again. I want him back." He waved a hand at the infinite carpet of stars lighting the night sky. "I want there to be a device out there, some fancy alien technology thingy, some magic potion, some time warp thingamajig that would bring him back, and to hell with the consequences to anyone else but him." The low voice was raw was pain. "Don't you see? I'd do anything to have him back. I'd be a hundred times worse than Malachi, if I thought there was a chance."
"Maybe there is."
Jack snorted.
"Sam said, since we time traveled, it's entirely possible that some sort of time travel could be done."
"Right, and even if we could, we're not supposed to change anything." Daniel heard Jack take a deep shuddering breath. "I couldn't stand it, just to see him again, knowing what was going to happen. What would be the point if I couldn't save him?"
"Wouldn't you want to see him?"
"Would you want to see Sha're?"
"Of course. And the General would like to see his wife, and Carter would like to see her mother... We'd all like to go back to the people we've loved and lost, have another chance, just one more moment. It's human."
"It's wrong."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"I was willing to trade you for Charlie. If Malachi's machine had worked... Daniel, you were dead."
Daniel shrugged. "I understand, Jack."
"Damn it, Daniel. Don't be so goddamn willing to die."
"I'm not, but I could never blame you for wanting your son back."
"Well, he'll never be back. He's gone."
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//I say it. I tell it to Daniel. I tell it to myself. I try to convince myself that I really believe it.
//But I don't. I can't. I never will.
//Do as I say, not as I do, Malachi.
//I told you to let her go, but I can never let him go.
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FINIS