Title: New Day, Old Regrets
Summary: "It was simple reconnaissance. He should have known better than to fall for a line like that." The morning after a bad mission, Jack O'Neill thinks of regrets and moving forward.
Warnings: gratuitous use of sentence fragments.
A/N: I have no idea where this came from. I don't normally write Jack all by himself, so this was a bit of a stretch for me. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.
It would take him exactly twenty-three minutes to drive to work. Another three to pass security. About five or six more to get to the General's office on level twenty-seven. Given time for traffic lights on the way in, maybe a total of thirty-five minutes.
He looked at the clock. The meeting with Hammond was in forty-two minutes. Forty-two. Which meant that in seven minutes, he needed to be out his front door, sitting in his truck, and well on his way to turning the key in the ignition.
The clock flickered as the red digital numbers changed. Six minutes.
Jack O'Neill sat on the edge of the bed, car keys held in loose hands, staring at the clock.
When his alarm clock had dragged him out of a sound sleep, kicking and screaming all the way, he had reacted without thinking. After years of training and self-discipline, mornings were at least tolerable, if not actually something to be enjoyed. So when the alarm clock woke him with its annoying buzz, Jack O'Neill did what any well-trained Air Force Colonel would do. He got up. If he had stopped to think about it, he might have rolled over and gone back to sleep. But it was too early to think, so he got up in a daze, mechanically working his way through his morning routine.
Now he was showered, shaved, dressed, fed, and ready to start another day. Except that just as he had been about to walk out the front door, his mind had caught up with the rest of him and forced him to think about what he was doing. Forced him to think about why he should go to work, or even get up in the morning. Forced him to think about why he had sat alone on his roof until far too late in the night, surrounded by discarded beer bottles.
Now he stopped to think about it.
Yesterday three men under his command had been killed. Hammond said it wasn't his fault, but somehow the words didn't make it any easier.
He had led SG-1 on a joint mission with SG-6. It was simple reconnaissance, but they had a lot of ground to cover, and two teams could do the work more efficiently than one. Besides that, SG-6 was breaking in a new scientist and the planet had a whole abandoned city of discarded rubble that Carter seemed to think could be salvaged to create some valid technology. It was the perfect mission for a slightly green scientist who was still learning the ropes.
Yeah, he should have known better than to fall for a line like that.
Three men dead. Of SG-6, only their 2IC and the rookie scientist had made it out alive. SG-1, of course, was merely bruised. They had been far enough away when the natives attacked. Daniel thought it might have been a cultural problem. Maybe the ruined city was sacred to them, or perhaps they just didn't like other people hanging around their territory. Jack knew that all the cultural insight in the world wouldn't have prevented this tragedy. But if he had been more vigilant, more watchful… well, maybe things would have been different.
Jack glanced at the clock. Four minutes.
He had lost men under his command before. And, unless he retired this afternoon, it would almost certainly happen again. This was nothing new. But the reason he was sitting here on the edge of the bed contemplating whether or not it was even worth walking to his front door was that he couldn't even remember their names.
He had been thinking about it all morning. And he couldn't remember. Oh, he could look it up on the base computers, but that wasn't the point. He wondered how many other names he had forgotten in his years of service.
The seconds ticked away and he wondered how much longer he could do this. It was only a matter of time before he was forced into a desk job or worse, either by injury or simply due to regular old wear and tear. One day soon, it would be either retirement or a desk. What difference would it make if that day was today?
There were others out there to continue the fight, and if he were honest with himself, maybe they were better equipped for that battle than he was. People like Daniel, Carter, and Teal'c. People like that scientist who had stood up under the pressure of a simple mission gone wrong. Maybe it would be Daniel's diplomacy that always won them allies, which would eventually win them the war. Maybe it would be some crazy and incomprehensible idea of Carter's, or a selfless act by Teal'c as he struggled to free his people.
He watched the clock. Time slipped by. Two minutes.
Would it really matter if he walked through that door this morning? Oh yes, Hammond would be pissed if he was late for the meeting, but not as pissed as he would be if Jack resigned. His team would be disappointed. Would they understand? Maybe. Carter wouldn't like it, but she would keep her questions to herself. Teal'c would understand better than any of them, having fought the longest. But perhaps he wouldn't be able to forgive such an action. For Teal'c it was a matter of loyalty. And Jack wasn't sure if his retirement would be seen as a betrayal of Teal'c's cause, or an act of capitulation to the enemy. Oddly enough, it was Daniel whose reaction Jack felt most sure of. Daniel was the only one who could fully sympathize with and accept such a decision. Oh, he would be saddened by it, but he would understand. He knew the disillusionment, the soul weariness, all too well. He had suffered too much, felt each loss too keenly to begrudge Jack his right to walk away.
Jack looked at the clock as the number changed again.
Could he live with their disappointment if he left? Probably. If he had to. Could he continue to wake up each morning knowing he was walking into a war that they might never win? A war that would claim the lives of more men and women under his command. A war that might be impossible to win, but was still a cause worth dying for.
The last minute ticked away and Jack stood, walking towards the front door. It was a new day, and even though it was likely to bring a new battle, at least he would walk into that battle with his eyes open, counting the cost of his actions and weighing it against the alternatives. Because there were really only two options: continue to fight, or let others fight in his place. And that was one option Jack didn't think he could live with.