Now Comes the Night

Disclaimer; I do not own Stargate; it's all powered by MGM and the Gekko guys and whatever. I would however like to say that I own rights to the muscled firemen…he he!

Summary: One little flame can bring light to a world. That flame for Jack was Samantha Carter. How can he cope when he is faced with the harsh reality that flames don't last forever? One Shot. Slight Jack/Sam.

Rated – T

Authors Notes

- I don't know about you but on occasion I get a random urge to do something a little less fluffy and a little more tragic, not that I write that many fluffy fics.

- If you have read eternity words I have to tell you now that this a total contrast to that, that was making the best of a sad situation, this…well…isn't.

- Not much else to say, read on and I hope you…I dunno, laugh, cry, whatever you feel the fic calls for. Enjoy.

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There are times, in life when you feel the balance isn't right, something so beautiful lives so close each day but you know you can not reach out and touch it, the light dances like the flame of a candle, you know what will happen if you touch the fire - the heat will chase your hand away… so you avoid it. You can look at how the flame flickers so gently in a passing wind, you turn out the lights so that flame is the only thing you see, you gaze at this flame everyday basking in it as one of life's most stunning things, you close your eyes to sleep and that flame is there to take your breath away… just like her smile. You know from the minute the candle lights that you love her but you also know – that haunting feeling, candles don't last forever. The flame will burn down to a point and extinguish, leaving a wisp of memories behind it. You know this but it does not bother you yet, the flame is young, it dances with passion and energy, each time you see it the warmth washes over you, one little flame can bring light to a world.

So what happens when the candle dies? What happens when the window is left open and the preverbal breeze becomes too strong? What if you forgot to close the window as the hurricane hits? The flame fights but in the end it cannot win, the odds are stacked too high against it, you turn around and the light isn't there anymore, everything you knew is plunged into darkness and you are left with the nagging guilt that you could have checked the weather report, estimated the timing, closed that window, saved that flame.

Sam was supposed to be meeting Jack at his cabin. She had finally caved and agreed to accompany her superior officer on a weekend fishing trip. She had been slightly alarmed to hear from Teal'c that Jack's lake was actually void of fish but her thoughts had gathered quickly and she had since come to realize that if you merely wanted to echo the relaxation gained from a few hours of tranquility with only a rod to keep your eye on – fish weren't actually necessary.

Unfortunately, and despite the point of this trip to be relaxation away from work, mission reports still weighed on Sam's mind. Her eyes strayed to the mirror in which the shape of her laptop could just about be seen under her coat and purse; knowing Jack would dissuade her from the keyboard the minute she placed a finger on the start-up button she had worked into the early hours the previous night, trying to complete as many reports as possible before the trip.

A yawn escaped into the stuffy atmosphere of the car, maybe it would have been better to grab a couple more hours under the sheets… She cranked the radio up and rolled down the window trying to focus on the road, the breeze made her shiver but it also ensured she wouldn't be dozing off anytime soon

'Oh, God, I hate this stuff,' She thought aloud, flicking through a few radio stations in an attempt to escape from the heavy rap that beat through the car. Her search was unsuccessful and she was soon reaching for her CD case.

Maybe if she had just switched the radio off and relied on the breeze to keep her awake or maybe if she had pulled over to find a CD she would have seen the truck as it pulled out of the junction. A gasp barely escaped Sam's lips as she floored the brake.

'O'Neill,' Jack had not checked the caller ID, he had told everyone that if they needed him for some life or death situation to use his emergency line - Carter was the only one with permission to use his cell number. Despite this fact, the grave voice that crackled through the speaker was not Sam's

'Hello, I'm Sheriff Garner. I'm calling concerning a female IDed as Major Samantha Carter,' the man's accent was hard to pin; it sounded peculiar, Canadian maybe, with a hint of Texan and an edge of French. It was a moment before he realized he had been too focused on the man's voice to answer.

'What about Carter? Is she okay? How did you get my cell number?' Jack replied with a suspicious tone, as if someone was about to jump out from behind him and yell 'surprise' but as reality crept over him, a cold dread began to shadow his brow and a lump had risen in his throat. He had been in the airforce for more years than he cared to count, he had heard that tone before…he had used that tone before.

'We called you because we found this number in the purse outside the car.' Sheriff Garner seemed to be teasing him with minor details, either that or he thought he was helping by not hitting the Colonel with the full blow, Jack almost dreaded to ask-

'And how did Carter's purse get outside her car?'

Major Carter's purse seems to have been thrown out of the car when it upturned,' There went all the color from his face… Jack's response to this was silence, not just down the line but in his own mind, in his house, in the world, everything went silent. The silence was not of any characteristic, it was not angered, saddened, tense, it was just…silence.

'O'Neill…?' There was the rustle of paper as the sheriff checked the label above the number 'Jack?'

'It's Colonel,' Jack's voice was hoarse even though he had not pressured it to any degree, in fact this was the first time he had talked to anyone all day 'Colonel Jack O'Neill, US airforce, two l's in that.' He said this in almost desperation, a desperation for normalcy because this could not be happening…Of all the ways she could have died over the years…A car crash!? It wasn't possible, it couldn't be, not now, not so young. He closed his eyes and he could see that flame dying, he opened them again and could see the receiver, clutched tightly in his hand, the black of the plastic a contrast from the white of his knuckles. Everything was so surreal.

'Colonel, she is still alive. We have two teams of firemen attempting to liberate her from the wreckage and an ambulance standing by to escort her to a hospital once she is freed. I think she is confused though and panicking slightly, she needs a familiar voice to calm her down,' There came the Sheriff's voice again, painfully lucid, describing something oh so painfully real.

'Shit, she's conscious?' Jack had devastating images flickering through his mind, Carter actually being aware in these scenarios made them worse. He knew in situations like this, when you were bleeding out or when pain was all you saw, you knew what was happening… as clear as day you knew what was happening…God… She knew she was dying.

A cold dial tone cut off the Sheriff's words as he tried to further explain Major Carter's status. He need not have worried for who else he could possibly call because a truck was soon pulling up by the scene and a man in his later years, graying hair and sharp expression wearing tee-shirt and sweatpants ran towards the wreckage that befell his view.

'Carter!' He yelled dismissing the Sheriff's attempts to greet him and instead skidding across the grass and stopping abruptly by the upturned and horrifically dilapidated car door.

'Jack,' usually he would have objected to her calling him anything but 'Sir' or 'Colonel' but it was clear that in this situation he was going to let it slide. Her voice was barely audible to any but him, it was a broken voice, it was an anguished voice but it was still a voice, she was alive – that was good.

'Carter, you're surrounded by big muscled men ripping apart metal to get to you, it's gonna be okay,' open with a joke and it will be better, things will change, this won't be reality, reality would be the flame and the flame would be dancing, living, anything but dying.

Sam drew in a rattled breath to let out a pathetic laugh; blood passed her lips to trickle down her cheek

'Sir…I'm dying.' She quivered as she said these words and her blue eyes looked at him with a sparkling sincerity, he looked away, speechless…He couldn't even comfort her with a beautiful lie.

'shh shh,' Jack felt sharpened glass slice his arm as he reached into the ruin of metal to touch her cheek. There was nothing he could say to make the truth better, there were no perfect words to slip past his lips and there was no nightmare to wake up from, this is life, life is hard - now live it. That's all he ever got, a basic human instinct, no meaning of life stuff or an answer to this seemingly impossible question… he had to build the rest from scratch…could you bake a loaf of bread in 30 seconds?

'Do you ever get scared?' her hand slipped around his, slick with blood and sweat

'All the time.' He whispered

'Well I'm scared now Jack…I'm so scared…can I wake up now, Please?' She looked to the mangled roof of the car to hide her pain. She could not even see the sky, she could not see the white flecks waft across a coat of clear blue, she could not see the sunshine, the beauty that seemingly surrounded her. All she saw was this metal monster that entombed her away from all that she knew an loved, she saw the red that covered her skin and the glass lodged deep in her abdomen, she saw shaking hands and her body as it died…and she was scared. Tears mingled with the sweat that covered her clammy forehead

'Don't cry,' her comforter sighed softly; his warm hand brushing the tears from her cold skin

'I can't feel my legs,' she sobbed suddenly, the imminence of her death possessing her and causing her to loose all self control

'Sam,' Jack's voice was sharp and drew her blurry vision 'You are not going to die! You are here with me and we are talking, just like we always do…Pretend with me Sam, pretend for just a little longer.' He could not lie, but they could forget. Tears of pain unavoidable, she bit her lip and nodded.

'Daniel and Teal'c are planning a movie night next Friday,' he smiled at her, his eyes involved in her dark pupils and sky blue irises 'There's going to be pizza and Star Wars -A Teal'c favorite! I think he has watched it… Twelve times now! There might even be donuts involved if Daniel contributes a few bucks.' There was a pause…then a sob.

'I can't do this Jack, I can't.' Sam's skin was now shock white against Jack's, the convulsions where becoming as violent as those created by a defibrillator, the pain was making one of the strongest people he had ever worked with sob like a scared little girl…and he didn't know what to do.

How long now? How long had she been lying in this car loosing the blood drop by drop? How long had he been here to comfort her? How long had these men been working on getting her out? It was all relative. Each minute counted. Every second was vital. It doesn't seem to be when you are laughing in the commissary or eating assorted junk food on movie night. There are so many simple things that every person takes for granted - until it is ripped to pieces in front of your eyes with a cruel laugh and a wash of crimson. Then it matters.

'Jack.' maybe for the last of a thousand times her voice grounded him

'Don't worry Sam, I'm still with you. Keep talking, don't fall asleep.' His verbal plea was followed by several silent ones - a mantra, purging the lullaby that was trying to take her away.

'I don't have anything profound to say,' Her voice was suddenly calm, deathly calm, like an epiphany had shown her every meaning to her life and forced her to bear the truth of what would inevitably come to pass

'C'mon Sam! Live another day, don't sleep. Don't leave me.' The harshness of his voice and the despair that threaded it hit her hard but could not deter her from what she needed to say 'Come on Jack' she thought in return 'Hear the words of the dying girl'

'I thought I was going to be alone,'

'You will never be alone,' the door was nearly off now; they were so close to her. Hang on Sam, hold a breath for tomorrow, it's another day; it's your day, stay with me Sam, stay with me

'Thankyou for being here Jack,' you know I can't, I told I can't. Don't cry for me Jack, I'm already dead.

'Sam, your not going to die,' I know I'm lying, just don't let go!

'Tell my dad I wasn't scared…' I'm sorry.

That was it. a life summed up in the beauty of a few words, a few words that weren't even goodbye. Her eyes were gray, her hand was cold and the grip she had held so tightly on his hand slipped away as she did. Tears he had held back all this time rushed forth and a sudden feeling of loneliness hit him as his fingers delicately closed the lids over the eyes he would never see sparkle again. Silently he stood and walked, the world did not stop turning as it should, it carried on, it carried on without her in it. He had seen death before, too many times… The difference was that this time, the moment her last breath left her…everything went black for him too.

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I feel a bit mean now, killing off Sam, but you know – I'm not a character basher btw, coz my fics seem to be central to Sam getting in…more than sticky situations… This is the first time I have killed a Stargate character off, and I feel guilty so I'm not in a hurry to do it again…well…not in a one shot. I'll stop rambling now.

Thanx for reading

Smiles

Sesa

xxx