"Jack?"
Jack was just finishing lacing up his boots when he looked up to see General Hammond in the infirmary door uncharacteristically dressed in khakis and a sweater. The colonel's eyes narrowed.
"Sir?"
"I'm your ride." The general replied seriously.
Jack slowly lowered his foot to the ground, blinking slowly, "Thank you sir but actually Teal'c was going to..."
The older man shook his head. "Teal'c will make sure your truck gets home and I'm under the impression that the remainder of your team are planning on meeting you there, but for now, you're with me."
Jack narrowed his eyes and put some pressure on the inside of his lips.
Hammond smiled gently, "Nothing nefarious Colonel. Come on."
Jack released a slow breath but grabbed his jacket and followed the General out the door.
The two men moved silently through the halls, in the elevator and out to Hammond's old Ford sedan. It wasn't until they took a right out of the parking lot instead of the anticipated left that Jack looked over with raised eyebrows, "Field trip?"
"Not really." Hammond shook his head, "Just headed to the house."
Jack nodded in not quite understanding but not really as they turned on to the road that lead to Hammond's neighborhood.
Hammond didn't say anything as he parked, exited the car and opened the front door. Jack followed without prompting, eyes tracking around the house, not sure what he was expecting but still uncertain as to why the general would be bringing him to his house, alone.
"Can I get you anything? Drink? Snack?" Hammond asked as he lead the way to the sitting area adjoining the kitchen.
Jack nodded absently, "Water's fine."
"I have to grab something, I'll be right back. Take a seat Jack." Hammond gestured to the chairs before turning and disappearing into the kitchen.
Jack looked back and forth at the available chairs, still trying to determine what was going on.
Was he in trouble? It wasn't like he had much opportunity to do anything the last few weeks what with being sick, captured and then right back in the infirmary.
He struggled to think back to before, what had he done before the trip to Antarctica? Well, Other than crash a mothership into the North Pacific...but that wasn't really his fault.
Besides, he was fairly certain he wasn't in trouble; if he was they'd be having whatever conversation they were about to have in Hammonds' office and in uniform. This had to be something personal.
Maybe the NID were pressuring him again?
That was unlikely. They had really put a dent in the NID 'side operations' with the arrest of Simmons and with Kinsey running for president he had been keeping his hands clean for the time being.
Jack scrubbed his hands across his face and sighed. The only other thing he could think of was that Hammond wanted to talk.
As in talk talk.
Jack released a slow breath and lowered himself to one of the chairs, fingers tapping on the table top. He could hear the general returning and straightened his shoulders, bracing himself.
Hammond put the two glasses of water down on the table and pulled a thin, black velvet box from his pocket before he sat down as well.
Jack watched his movements but stayed silent, waiting for the opening salvo. Hammond just sat back in his chair and quietly drank his water, eyes on Jack.
Realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere by waiting Jack shifted in his seat and tried to put a comforting grin on his face, "Look, General, I appreciate what ever it is you are trying to do here but I'd really just like to leave this whole mess behind me. I've had my first two meetings with McKenzie and Monday should be my last one then..."
"McKenzie is an idiot."
It was said so quietly that had it not been said with such conviction he would have missed it entirely. Jack tilted his head and could not stop the look of confusion that he was sure came across his face.
Hammond sat forward, forearms heavy on the table top. "He's a good psychiatrist, knows his field well, hell that's why he's at the SGC. But for somethings it's impossible to be qualified for and McKenzie's problem is that he doesn't realize that."
"Sir..." Jack paused, unsure of what to say. He certainly wasn't about to disagree with Hammond or defend McKenzie.
Hammond offered a small, understanding smile. He pushed the velvet box over to Jack. "You know what that is?"
Jack raised his eyebrows, unable to stop himself, he smirked, "A box, sir?"
Hammond rolled his eyes and gestured for Jack to open it. Inside was a familiar red, white, blue and black ribbon and matching medal.
Jack cleared his throat and looked back to the General. "Yes, I know what it is." He looked back down at the POW medal and carefully shut the case before looking back to Hammond who was watching him expectantly. "With all due respect sir, what's your point?"
Hammond took a few steady breaths and reached back for the box, eyes squinting in thought as his fingers traced its edges. "Some times the only thing that can help is having someone who understands."
Jack looked away, out the window, eyes fixated on the light bouncing off the water of the lake.
After a long time he shook his head but kept his eyes averted, "Sir, again, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I can tell you, I've got one of those myself and it doesn't matter. There is no understanding."
He took a deep breath and looked back to the General, his tone matching the tension on his face, "You spent 6 weeks in a hell hole in the middle of the jungle, and I'm sure it was no picnic. But it's not the same. There is literally no one else on earth who has even the slightest clue about whatever the hell it is that I've been through this past month." Jack closed his eyes and bent his head. He wasn't angry at the general and he needed to be careful with his words.
For his part the General's eyebrows rose, "6 weeks? How did you know that?" His voice was quiet, not angry and Jack looked up, eyes wide. He hadn't meant to slip like that.
Hammond's eyes narrowed, "Is it perhaps possible that Major Carter isn't the only member of SG-1 prone to breaking into sealed files?"
Jack rubbed the back of his neck then dropped his hand down to pick at his thumbs. He looked up apologetically, "When we first met you threw me in the brig and then next thing I know you're authorizing me to do all sorts of insane things. I couldn't get a handle on you. Wanted to know what kind of man my new CO was."
Hammond nodded thoughtfully, "So you've read everything?"
Jack winced, "Most." Seeing no reprimand on his commander's face he continued, "Not that there were many surprises; It would be obvious that one doesn't get posted as commander of the Stargate, inactive or not, without some classified background."
The older man kept his gaze steady until Jack looked away again. "So, you know the circumstances around those six weeks." It was a statement, not a question.
"A low altitude recognizance and targeted drop in Cambodia gone bad. We didn't have official operations in Cambodia so you were on your own to get out; which you did along with 4 other men." Jack recited quietly.
Hammond nodded. "Was that it?"
"Yes...?" Jack furrowed his brow, unsure of what Hammond meant.
Hammond rubbed the side of his face and his eyes unfocused in memory, "What I'm sure the record doesn't reflect is that it was a fool's errand. There was nothing there. The intelligence that lead to my orders was faulty. What's worse is that the brass probably knew it but there was some kind of pissing match going on which resulted in best case scenario bad communication but I suspect it was worse; orders being handed down out of spite."
Jack clenched his teeth and took a deep calming breath through his nose. He knew exactly what kind of pissing match Hammond was talking about. The old 'I want to prove you're incompetent so I am going to purposefully misunderstand what you say so when it all goes FUBAR you look like an ass' was not as uncommon as it should be among ranking officers. The petty squabbling and posturing sometimes yielded real damage and if there was anything worse than leaving someone behind it was purposefully putting them in crap situations for no good reason.
Hammond pulled himself back to the present and looked patiently at Jack, "It's not about being able to understand what went on in there." He stopped and looked straight ahead, rethinking his words. He tapped the black box, "There is a reason this one gets left off the ribbon rack. And I'm fairly certain it's the same reason you don't wear yours, or your purple hearts."
He pinned Jack with a piercing look, "To us, these represent a time when it all went to hell. When we were no longer in control of the situation. These black medals represent a time when our worth, the value of our lives, was weighed against something else and we came up lacking. The citations no doubt say something about perseverance or survival, but when I look at this I'm just reminded of failure and that someone else judged me to be expendable. It can be hard to stand back up after that realization."
Jack tasted blood; he had bit down hard enough on the inside of his lip that it punctured. Unthinking, he brought his finger up to wipe the blood his lip. He kept his eyes on his hand, watching, mesmerized, as his thumb spread the spot of red across his finger.
"Jack? Do you need a towel?" Hammond's concerned voice broke the younger man out of his reverie.
Jack ignored him, "That goddamn snake used me." His voice was quiet, dark, but steady. "The first thing I experience as myself is collapsing from a staff blast to the back and then watching that slimy bastard wriggle away. Coward. Left me to who knows what to save his own skin. Just like Iraq."
Hammond leaned back, nodding. Jack's official debrief was not scheduled until Monday so these were the first specifics he was hearing of his officer's experience.
"I don't know what happened in Iraq." He stated evenly.
Jack looked up, surprised, "No?"
Hammond smiled, "Unlike some people I don't go reading what I'm not supposed to."
Jack returned the amusement with a smirk of his own before heaving a deep breath, "Op went bad. We were hightailing it back to the EZ. Got close enough to see the choppers before I got hit; one in the shoulder, one in the leg. Went down hard. Cromwell claimed he thought I was dead but I watched as he and a lieutenant stopped, considered coming to get me and then turned away, got on those birds and took off. It was during The Gulf so I was lucky enough that the liberation of the territory around the prison was part of the greater strategy and someone came and dragged my sorry ass out of there but not before I spent 4 months in hell reliving that moment when I saw them make the decision to leave me."
Hammond remained quiet, giving Jack space to reflect back on that time on his own.
After a long silence Jack shook his head, "And that damn snake did the same thing. Idiot. He could have asked. We would have figured something out. Certainly better than that half assed smash and grab. But he made the decision on his own and then left me to deal with the consequences. Damn. At least in Iraq..."
He stopped himself, looking darkly to Hammond, "Sir, I appreciate..." he gestured awkwardly between the two of them. "This...but you're my commanding officer. There are somethings..."
Hammond held up a hand, "Not right now. Just George. Between the classified nature of the SGC and being in the position you hold, well, you don't have a whole lot of options for honesty. I'm giving you an option. Take it or leave it. No judgement."
Jack nodded and looked back at his hands but said nothing. Hammond watched him, waiting. When Jack made no move to speak Hammond gently prompted, "At least in Iraq what?"
Jack dragged his eyes up to meet Hammond's. He grimaced, "At least in Iraq there was hope. Hope that it would eventually end, either by rescue or death. Some days I wasn't sure which I would have preferred. Neither option seemed available at Ba'al's fortress of fun." Jack sneered and looked away.
He swallowed, "I knew no one knew where I was, I knew it was a fortress and I knew that no matter what happened I couldn't even really die." He shook his head, "I wanted to just die and stay dead so bad. I was so close to breaking."
He forced his breath steady, unable to meet Hammond's gaze. A movement caught his eye out the window and he watched as a flock of birds descended upon the water.
"I wanted to break." Hammond's voice was heavy, his accent growing thicker as he lost himself in memory. "I knew no one would be coming for me and it took a long while to think of a conceivable escape plan. And it was bad. But the worst part was there were no questions, no interrogation, no attempt at information, it was torture for the sake of torture. They were bored and I was the entertainment. I would ask them what they wanted and am ashamed to admit that had they actually asked a question I would probably have given them what ever answer they wanted in hopes that they would just stop. But they never gave the option. I wanted to break and I wanted to die."
Jack looked up and met Hammond's eyes and the two soldiers shared a long moment of understanding.
George cleared his throat and got up to refill their water glasses.
"Jack..." He set the refilled glasses back down, "The reason we're talking now is because I wanted to be able to let you know your options before you undoubtedly spent the weekend with your team."
Jack looked back at him, eyebrows raised in unspoken question.
Hammond straightened in his seat, "You are a field officer and leader of SG-1. That is not going to change unless you want it too." Jack narrowed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "But, as we've discussed, I can understand how the idea of going back out there and facing the unknown may not be entirely appealing at the moment." He paused to judge Jack's reaction but the colonel remained still.
Hammond sighed, "What I'm trying to say is that there are other options for you if you'd like them. We are going to get the alpha site started in earnest and will need to have a good officer in charge of that. The training program needs to be developed and closer coordination needs to be handled with the Academy. We're working on building a whole fleet of 302's which need to be tested and a certification course built and overseen. There is a lot going on that is quickly growing larger than my ability to oversee in addition to running the SGC. I need officers I can trust to pick up the reigns on these projects. Whatever you want to do is yours, Jack."
He studied the man in front of him carefully. "I'm not pushing you in any direction. Frankly if you were to leave SG-1 I am not sure what I would do with your vacancy but I want you to know you have options. Even if you want to do something temporarily."
Jack didn't move, just sat breathing rhythmically through his nose, brown eyes focused in thought.
"Hell Jack, I don't know what your plans are but taking on a larger command could mean promotion in your future. You've been a full bird for a long time."
That caused the younger officer's stony countenance to break as he breathed a small guffaw and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'General O'Neill'."
Hammond smiled and shook his head, "Have more faith in yourself; it could happen."
Jack smirked, "Yeah. And give a few old instructors a coronary. I'm honestly just waiting for the day when Carter outranks me. Hell I've been expecting her transfer orders in my inbox for years now."
Hammond bowed his head, "Well, we both know she's more than qualified to run her own team but I strongly believe in having our best people on SG-1. Perhaps it is unfair of me but I don't think her career is suffering for it and I'd imagine I'd have a hell of a fight on my hands if I ever tried to move her."
Jack smirked again, imagining a scenario where Hammond tried to pull Sam off of SG-1. There would be more than one person giving the poor general an earful.
He looked out and watched the birds swim in the pond as he thought about the individuals who made up his team.
A small smile crossed his face, "There's another difference between this and Iraq."
"Oh?" Hammond leaned back, unprepared for Jack's sudden change of topic.
"Back then, someone else decided I wasn't worth saving." Jack's fingers tapped restlessly on the table, "Had it not been for the strategic value of that prison I would have been written off as an accepted loss. And you're right. The hit to your self worth makes it hard to come back from that."
He took a long drink from his water, "This time, Kan'aan may have thought I was expendable but my team didn't. They worked and schemed and risked to give me a chance, give me hope of getting out of there. Hell, I even heard my CO threatened to break off diplomatic relations with an important ally."
His eyes flicked to Hammond's face which remained impassive.
"That same CO cared enough to personally check-in, to give his understanding, options and support." Jack leaned back, forcing the tension out of his shoulders, "That kind of..." he paused in thought before continuing, unable to find or admit the right word, "Well, when you know you've got that behind you it makes it a bit easier to pick yourself up again."
Hammond looked down to the table top, and took a relieved breath. He looked back to Jack's face, the colonel's expression relaxed but his eyes resolute. Hammond smiled, "So SG-1 then?"
Jack smiled, "Yeah." He relaxed back into his chair, looking very much like a man just released of a burden. "I am glad to hear about the other plans; I can help you pick which future generals to head each thing up if you'd like." He smirked, "And of course consider me a volunteer anytime you need someone to go for a joyride in a 302."
Hammond laughed and shook his head. "Duly noted Colonel. And yes, I would value your input as we start moving personnel around. Even staying with SG-1 there are plenty of auxiliary duties you could take on which would be immeasurably helpful."
"Great. Paperwork." Jack rolled his eyes.
"Anything worth doing is worth printing in triplicate." Hammond confirmed with a smile. He looked down at his watch, "Well I suppose we should be getting you to your place before the rest of your team begins to worry about what I've done with you."
Jack smiled, "Yes, best not to keep the children waiting."
Hammond shook his head as he stood and moved to the door. He stopped as he felt something shift in his pocket.
"I almost forgot..." He dug his hand in to his pocket, feeling around for the small bag and it's content. Pulling it out he glanced at it sadly before flipping it to Jack. "This is yours. For that ribbon you have collecting dust somewhere. The chief of staff wanted to make sure you got it right away. The citation is still sitting on my desk."
Jack caught the small package. He rolled the service star in his fingers before shoving it into his pocket with a wry grin.
Hammond nodded, understanding the silent sentiment, "Like I said, some people just don't understand."
Jack stood straight and eyed Hammond critically, "Yes..." He murmured quietly, "Lucky for me; some people do." He smiled briefly before ducking his head and leading the way out the door.