Cold

Rated: R (language)

Category: Angst

Season: Six

Spoilers: Frozen, Tiny one For Out Of Mind/Into the Fire

Summary: Jack's Thoughts About Carter's Suggestion.

Note: This was written well over a year ago, and sat forever. Decided to finally post it.

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I'm dying, and I know it.

There is nothing Fraiser or anyone else can do.

The woman we found healed everyone else, but there was no time for me. Now she's gone, and we're running out of time.

I have to go now, Carter. Please tell everyone it's ok. Risk of the job and all that. Sure, I always thought I'd check out due to a staff weapon or a bullet or something slightly more dramatic than a virus, but it's not like I have any choice in the matter. The end result is the same.

Time for Jack O'Neill to pay the piper. Meet my maker, check out.

I am so sorry. Sorry to have failed you. I wish I had more time. More time to say what needs to be said. To you. To T. To everyone. But I have to go now. Tell them it's ok. I'm glad you came to see me off. It's nice not to be alone, even though I can't talk to you and I know this is hard on you. Even with the giant red suit that makes everything so impersonal. At least you came down here to be with me, instead of watching from above like I'm some sort of experiment. Thank you. I appreciate it.

No. No. No. No fucking way. No. Forget everything I just said and get the fuck out. What the hell are you thinking, Carter? Why would I do that? I'm screaming at you. I want to kill you for even suggesting it. Seriously, why would you ever ask me that? What in our history says that I would ever, EVER be ok with that? I might not want to die these days, but that's preferable to what you're suggesting! No, no, no! I try to answer you. I can't. I'm too weak, it won't come. I struggle to get it out. I'm afraid that you won't see my answer. Terrified, actually. I mean, Samantha Carter is asking me if I want a snake in my head. Just to save my life. That scares me in and of itself. Who the hell are you and what have you done with Carter? Because there is no way she would ask me that. No fucking way. Kill me now. Kill me now and get it over with. I don't want anyone thinking about this anymore. I don't want it as an option. No, no, no! Please hear me. Please understand. NO! Damn my sick body for not doing what I want. Wake up, Jack! Say something! Get it out!

Finally, I manage it. My voice sounds like a stranger's, but I get it out.

"Over my dead body."

And I mean it. No fucking way. Period. None.

Oh, Jesus. Don't look at me like that. It took all I had to get that out. I can't tell you why. I can't comfort you (not that I'm any good at that anyway). Please don't look at me like that. I can't take it. I know that's selfish, but please don't. Carter, I'm not Jacob. I can't do it. Been there, done that. All I can remember is the pain and the cold. Both inside and out. Forgive me, but I got rid of a snake once before, I don't want to have to do it again. I can't. God, stop looking at me like that. You of all people should understand. Please, Carter, stop it. You know I don't want to put you through this. I don't want to hurt you. You know that. At least I hope you do. God, how I wish I knew for sure that you did. I never could tell you what you really mean to me. What, with the job and all. And the little fact that I don't even know for sure. And now neither one of us will ever know. Another regret to add to a long list. All I know is that I can't look at you and tell you I'd rather die. But it would be a preferable fate. It's what I want. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die. Let me die, dammit! No snakes, Carter, promise me. A snake is a snake is a snake. I don't care what side it's supposedly on. Promise me. No snakes. Please understand. Please spare me this. Please go and let me die in peace. I don't want to live forever. I don't want to live past this minute if that is the only way. But, I can't take the look on your face. I can't hurt you like that. I know you would get over it, but burying friends (or whatever we are) gets real old real fast. God, we just lost Daniel. I don't want you to have to go through that again when I have a choice in the matter, but I can forget about it as long as I don't have to look at you, especially with that look on your face. Carter, please….STOP IT! LEAVE! GO! GO AND LET ME DIE!!! PLEASE. Please. Please?

Damn the good soldier crap. You won't go, will you? Well, I guess that settles it. I guess I know now what you are to me. You're important enough to me that I can entertain the thought of putting someone else before myself in the most extreme of ways. I can do something I consider tantamount to hell. I can put everything I want aside and do something only to spare you pain. Sure, the snake supposedly knows some things we need, but I don't give a rat's ass. We would find out another way. I really don't appreciate you trying to appeal to my sense of duty on this one, Carter. There is only so far a man can be expected to go. I say give the Tok'ra and their intel a big fuck you from me on this one, but fine. I trust you. I trust you won't let anything happen to me. I trust you to find a way to get it out when the time comes. I trust you. Please don't let it be misplaced. Please look out for me. If you say it'll be ok, I'll believe you. Just don't let me down, Carter. Get my six. For the love of all that is holy, watch my six. Take care of me. This is for you, you know. Just to get you to stop looking at me like that.

I let my head fall in the briefest of nods. Really, it's just me letting my head fall. Interpret it how you will. I wish I could talk. Yell, even. Throw things around. Kick things. Grab you and shake you and scream in your face about how in the hell you could do this to me. That's what I want. But, if I could do those things, we wouldn't be thinking about this, would we? Ok, Carter. It's all on you. Take it. Take SG-1, or what's left of it, and take me. Do what you need to do. What you think is best. Your call.

You take it how I thought you would. Just to spare yourself some pain you would do this to me. Just so you don't have to bury me. Then again, I resigned myself to a lifetime, perhaps a very long lifetime, of hell just to save myself from that look on your face. So, guess we're about even there. I understand your motives, at least. Funny how we can do things we didn't think we were capable of just to try to avoid pain. Dying would have been selfish of me in that I wouldn't have to do this, but the last thing I saw would have been you, and that look of pain and disappointment on your face. No, thanks. Just take care of me, Carter. Make this be ok. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe there really are nice snakes. Maybe I'll see you later. Maybe…maybe…I'm scared….and it's so cold….