Title: To Kill A Mockingbird
Author: MotatoPotato
Spoilers: None
Season: 10
Warnings: SJ Ship. Companion to 'General Jackass'. Language, innuendo. Sam and Jack are a little out of character on this one - my own shit got in the way a little, so I'm sorry!
Disclaimer: Stargate is not mine. Sadly. I only twist what is there.
Notes: This is eighteenth in a series of same universe vignettes.
Please let me know what you think….It's how I improve!
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Jack stretched and groaned, waiting at the airport for Sam to pick him up. Glancing at his watch he sighed. 8:00pm Mountain time.
God he was tired. He just wanted some sleepy couch time with his favorite person.
Four hours and it would be the day. One of two days of the year he could live without. A day almost unbearable in his world. He dreaded going to visit tomorrow. For some reason it wasn't nearly as painful to go to him on his birthday. His little boy.
But in a few hours, it would be the day the guilt roared to life and the always aching wound in his heart became a festering stomping ground.
The day Charlie was lost.
Before he'd only allowed a whisky bottle to comfort him. Last year, he'd had Sam. Just as he did this year. Sometimes he wondered with all the horrible things staining his soul what on (or off) earth he'd done to deserve her.
Another five week stretch since he'd seen Carter.
A tired but genuine smile lit his face at the thought of her.
Then she was there. He looked her over, grin growing by the second. //She looks just as tired as I feel// He thought absently, tugging her against him for an affectionate squeeze.
"Heya homewrecker. We better hurry before my wife catches us," He teased gently, eliciting a smile from her.
She moved close next to his side and they made their way back to the car. His head thumped back against the seat as he closed his eyes. //Ooooh yeah. Beer. Blonde. Sleep.// He'd insisted on going to the cemetery alone last year. Maybe he would ask her to come this time.
It would be the day his son had died. It was the day a part of Jack went with him all those years ago. This would never be okay. He would always feel responsible. But he was also beginning to allow himself much needed comfort from the person he trusted with his heart.
The bitter aching loss was steadily gaining a hold over him.
They pulled up in front of the house after a comfortably silent ride home. Sam looked over her shoulder at him as she pushed the door open. "Be ready to go in 20 minutes?"
He stopped short in the doorway unsure he'd heard right. "What?"
She gave him a look. "You know, the team night?"
Jack frowned. "What team night?"
"The one I told you about." She was frowning now too.
"Uh no, you didn't tell me anything about any team night."
She sighed loudly. "Well I'm telling you now."
He sighed. "If it's all the same to you, I'd really rather stay in."
"It's not. I want you to come. I wanna spend time with you."
"Why can't we spend time together here? On the nice comfy couch?" He gave her a tight smile, trying to break the sudden crackling tension; trying not to let the simmering anger at his own failure explode at her.
She looked at him with thunderous eyes. "Because it's a team night!"
He looked confused. "Uh, okay...I seem to recall you missing plenty of them when I was around. I just need some quiet." He hoped she'd catch his tone and drop it.
She glared harder. "Well, I wanna go!"
He growled then, too tired, raw, and definitely too close to losing his temper to try and play peacemaker anymore. "So go! But I'm staying here."
"What is your problem!"
"My problem?" His eyebrows shot up. "You're the one throwing a tantrum."
"Why are you so bent on staying home?!"
"Sam, I'm dog tired! I've had a two week stretch of round-the-clock, back to back meetings. I just hopped a flight directly after one of said meetings. I have to go see…just…I'll go out with you tomorrow night. Heck, I'll even go to the damn science museum with you. But for now, I need a damn beer and a remote!"
"And I'm not tired after that last mission? I'm making the damn effort!"
"And yet, still not going anywhere tonight," Jack growled.
She totally lost control of her temper in a blind flood of fury. "God you are such a cold, stubborn, INFURIATING bastard!! You're childish and bullheaded and so stunted emotionally that it's impossible to talk to you about anything!"
Jack saw red stars explode in a haze of pain and anger that'd been growing all day. "That's what'll always be about right? What if you could do better?" He ground out deceptively calm as his chest throbbed painfully.
Sam stood her ground looking furious. He turned his head away from her and spoke coldly. "So go. Do better."
She didn't blink an eye at the now pronounced hazy pain clouding his now dull brown eyes, responding instead to her own fury at his seeming indifference. "Right now I have no idea why I married you."
As soon as the words left her lips she bit them so hard they bled.
Jack stared his eyes reflexively blanking as he tried to process what she'd said.
Sam strangled a moan herself when she realized the full extent of what she'd just said.
His shock quickly faded with comprehension, jaw setting tightly, eyes going from shuttered to icy cold. "Fine." He struggled to keep the rising wave of grief from reaching his eyes.
Sam hadn't seen that expression (or lack thereof) on him in years.
"Jack..." she whispered through the hand currently covering her mouth.
Without so much as a glance her way he snagged his bag up from the floor where he'd only just dropped it minutes before.
She watched him walk stiffly down the hallway. Her mind started racing as the full impact of her heated words fully sank in, beginning to fester. //How could I...//
She did moan this time. She knew with her whole logical head that he was going to need some time. But her heart was screaming at her to go after him, take him in her arms and never let him go.
Instead she grabbed her keys and headed out to the team night, giving them both space to breathe.
He listened to her leave. He tried not to give in to the slight tremor starting in his hands. No apology. No horrified stuttered retraction. No Carter hug. Something he really needed from her. His blood ran cold.
Maybe she meant it. He squeezed his eyes shut while he got back under control, burying the hurt. He couldn't stay if that's how she felt.
God he felt old.
He got off their bed and grabbed Daniel's spare key from a drawer on the way out.
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Jack hadn't been in bed when she got home. Her heart had bled, though she knew she deserved his rebuff. She had curled up in misery, tossing and turning all night, missing his warmth; she couldn't feel his presence the way she normally could near him. She shivered.
When she finally awoke, she gathered her courage and went to knock on the spare room door.
When she didn't get a response, she cracked the door. His bag was gone, room undisturbed.
She sank down to the bed staring blindly at the wall. How did such a stupid argument get here?
Sam sat staring into space, jumping up when a thought occurred to her.
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Jack followed the path slowly towards Charlie. He slowed the closer he got, hands curling into fists when he realized what he was doing.
He would not behave like a coward. He'd face it or die trying. He didn't get to be a coward here.
The first thing he'd noticed about the grave were the fresh flowers and the little mini checkers game next to them. Obviously Sara had been here earlier.
He dropped the baseball he'd been carrying and stood for what seemed like hours before lowering himself down before his knee gave out.
He stared straight ahead, lost in memory.
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She pulled up in front of Daniel's twenty minutes later. She knocked and waited anxiously until Daniel opened the door.
He looked his friend over as she stepped into his home. He'd known something had happened before Sam had shown up last night. She had been jumpy and withdrawn. He didn't press her, knowing she'd talk when she was ready.
But then when he'd gotten home and found Jack lying on his couch, staring coldly at the ceiling, he knew something bad had gone down. His friends fought all the time. In their nearly two year marriage, never once had it escalated like this. They never backed down from each other; never ran away.
In fact they often seemed to enjoy sparring.
But Jack just seemed cold and distant, almost like he was on autopilot. It scared the crap out of Daniel.
Daniel couldn't help wondering what had been said.
She sighed at his questioning look. "We fought."
Daniel would have snorted if Sam didn't look so damn miserable. "So what else is new?"
"No, Daniel, You don't understand."
His eyes snapped to her face at the tight tone.
"What did he say to you?"
Sam let out a half sigh half moan. "What I said, actually."
Daniel looked almost comically startled. "You...?"
The Colonel took a deep breath and told him basically what had been said.
Then he got a really funny look on his face before trying to blank it out.
Sam caught it though. "What is it Daniel?"
He shook his head.
She sighed. "Daniel, please, is he here?"
The archaeologist reluctantly looked back up at her. "He had an appointment."
She cocked her head. "What…no he didn't."
Daniel sighed heavily. "He has this appointment every year Sam."
She looked impatiently confused. Then her face fell. "What day is it Daniel?"
He regarded at her silently.
"Daniel."
"You know what day it is."
She moaned. "I…tell me I didn't. Tell me I didn't tell him I made a mistake marrying him the evening before this anniversary. Tell me I didn't!"
They stood in silence.
Daniel watched her turn and fly down the path to her car.
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Jack still sat slumped in the grass before the smooth, cool marble of his beautiful son's headstone. His fingers brushed along the lettering, then moving to fiddle with the baseball he'd brought for his boy, careful not to crush Sara's offerings.
He missed him.
Jack also supposed he got no more than he had earned. His soul was blacker than coal; he didn't deserve the comfort of love. He deserved to be in pain; in memory of deeds he wished he could forget.
He hoped his son wasn't a payment towards that debt.
Except that the whole thing was his fault too.
His boy.
Charlie would have been 19 had he lived.
He tried not to imagine it; his child going to college; meeting girls; playing ball. The pain only spread.
Sam was right in every respect. He was cold hearted. He was a bastard. He didn't blame her for having regrets. He was a train wreck of a human being.
Regardless, he loved her. Maybe that was his punishment. To always be just out of reach of happiness. On the outside looking in. No less than he deserved.
Here with his boy he felt the walls melting, helpless to stop them.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut thinking of the two people he'd given his whole heart to.
His shoulders sagged further as he traced the name lovingly. He leaned forward and rested his head on the cold stone, still running his fingers over it. He was closer than he'd been in oh so long to breaking.
He wondered how much loss and misery one person could take. If he were any example, it would be a hell of a lot. Though he did question his sanity at times.
Oh he'd pull it together and do his job as always, protecting earth. But his existence would go back to being a bleak and empty hell.
He closed his eyes without the strength to cry. He never cried. He thought it was because his heart was so heavy with the weight of his past wrongs. Another punishment - no release for the pressure he bore.
So he lay against the stone lost in his self-recrimination; mourning the thing he considered his greatest sin.
For once the armor lowered, the mask gone.
"I'm so sorry buddy…ah god. It'll never be enough." He scrubbed a hand over his worn face.
His cheek went back to rest on the hard surface.
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Sam watched her husband up against a headstone from a few hundred yards away.
She felt her eyes prickle. Her feet moved without volition.
She dropped next to him. He closed his eyes. Sam watched him tense, almost quivering with the effort of holding himself together.
She almost couldn't see through the gathering moisture. With a cry she wrapped herself as close as she could around him.
He made an attempt to push her off, but found himself unable. His hastily donned facade slipped. He stayed tense but the tremor increased until he was shaking uncontrollably against her warmth and the icy cool of the grave.
"Did you mean it." He knew the answer could make or break. But he said it anyway.
Sam choked a little. "No. Never. I love you. You're my…my other half." She let out a shaky breath. "It'll always be you." A loaded pause followed. "I never knew I had it in me."
Jack squeezed his eyes shut.
"I...I'm so…sor…" she heaved a silent sigh.
"Shut up."
Sam let out something between a gasp and a sob. Then started in surprise.
Jack yanked her to him and held her so tightly she knew there'd be bruises.
They pulled back and rested, clinging to each other, visiting Charlie.
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Sam's throat was raw from screaming, her body stinging with deep scratches and dark bruises. They were still clinging together, his nails digging into her back, hers in his ribs.
When they had stumbled through the door a rough kiss turned into a desperate, angry, no holds barred session. They had beat the crap out of each other - and it was some of the best they'd ever had.
Jack was a jumble of tangled emotion.
He was flying blind for the first time in as long as could remember. His compass broken; no stars to guide him.
Until he saw the deep blue beacon. He locked on and followed it, trying to shed the strangling depths he was anchored in.
He still had her, even if he couldn't have Charlie.
He still had hope. He still had her.
Sam peeled one hand off Jack's side and raised it, tracing his rugged features. Jack closed his eyes and felt a healing wash of warmth.
Some things would never be okay again.
But he had balance now to hold the demons at bay.
In that moment he realized how utterly, totally, and completely he loved her. He was scared witless.
He held her tightly, nuzzling her fingers as they stroked his lips.
Their eyes met.
He saw it in her eyes too; his fear evaporated.
//You and me.//