Towards the door we never opened
Synopsis: The title is taken from the poem Burnt Norton by TS Eliot, one of his Four Quartets (those poems get me through the day sometimes). Burnt Norton is a poem about time, the whole of eternity contained in the moment. It's also a poem about loss, desiccation, and, just possibly, redemption. When I read it yet again recently it just "spoke" to me of Sam and Jack. The story is set post Season 8, and the line is an oblique reference to "Divide & Conquer". Sam's POV
It may be noticeable that my geographical knowledge of the US is somewhat limited. Forgive me, but I really have no idea how long it would actually take to drive from Nevada to DC.
Disclaimer: If I owned them there'd be a whole warren-full of little Carters and little O'Neills. As there is no such warren it's patently obvious I own nothing of the SG1-verse.
My eyes are gritty, the hours on the road catching up with me. I don't want to stop and rest, but I'm becoming dangerously tired and have no choice. Pulling over to the side I notice the break of light on the horizon; a spreading red glow that reminds me of just how long I've been awake. I watch the sunrise for a few minutes before closing my eyes.
The events of the last eight years have robbed me of easy sleep. But I focus on your face, imagine your voice and the fear eases. I feel the familiar warmth your smile always starts, soothing away the instinctive panic of closing my eyes. My breathing slows and I drift off.
I wake a couple of hours later, my mouth feeling and, I have no doubt, smelling like the inside of an old sneaker. I get out of the car, grabbing my water and toothbrush from my pack. I brush my teeth and dowse my face in in water, feeling myself returning to some semblance of humanity.
I continue to drive. I haven't told you that I'm coming – I didn't know how to. Truth be told, I'm terrified. We haven't spoken in months – well, nothing beyond the usual update calls between the Pentagon and Area 51. But I can't hold myself back any more. This may not be what you want now, you might have moved on; but I still want and I haven't moved.
After three days of driving I'm at your door. The fear and hope I'm feeling settle into a balance that finally allows me to move. As I get to the steps of your house I pause, vainly trying to slow my breathing. It's not going to work, as my heart races in anticipation. No amount of oxygen is going to clear my head.
I take the first steps, and hope that these steps will raise us out of the holding pattern we've maintained for eight years. As I'm thinking I find my hand has already pressed your bell.
The look on your face brings hope and dread in equal measure. I can't speak, knotted with tension my jaw refuses to move. But I manage to reach out and touch your chest, my hand resting over your heart. I think you understand as you place your hand over mine, holding me there. A ray of light emerges when you smile, cutting off the dread but leaving the hope.
Need and helplessness move me nearer to you and I find that I can speak.
"We are so alike," I whisper "and I can't be apart from you any longer."
This is what I need to say, and, by the look on your face, what you need to hear. I can't stop here though, you need to know everything.
"We need each other. At least I pray we do. I miss you and love you. I drove here because I just can't deal with our reality any more. I want an alternate."
You nod and step to one side motioning me in. You still haven't spoken, but, strangely, I'm okay with that. If we are here for honesty I need you to be you. Jack O'Neill is not someone who can respond easily to emotions. I want you, and this is you. Nonetheless, I need confirmation, no matter how inarticulate.
"Am I right?"
"You are" is your response, and I think that's all you'll say. Again, I'm okay with that. But you're setting yourself to surprise me. You start to speak as you place your hand over my heart.
"I miss and love you too; but you know that already Sam. This will never be easy, but we do have a curious knack for changing reality don't we?"
I smile and reply "Yes, we do don't we."
I kiss you as we move towards the door we have never opened, unlocking all that we can and will be as we release it from the room. So few words, and yet we have said enough. We have reached this point in time and stopped, momentarily allowing the past and future to coalesce. All that we have been, felt, thought and done joining all that we will be, feel, think and do in this instant. And this is now.