Sand
Rated: G. I hate the whole K for kids thing. Trix are for kids.
Season: Any with the original team.
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I don't own a stargate, let alone Stargate SG1. Maybe if I build it... they will come...
Summary: It's a wearing away. A subtle aging process that takes years, and maybe nobody else notices but him.
A/N: Hey Everybody! I know. I've still not completed "Five Events" – so far it's just two events. I promise, it's not forgotten, just waiting for its muse to come back from its tropical vacation. So here is a drabble of sorts. Just a little ditty I've been playing with in my head for a while. Hope you like!
Lots of love,
Christine
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Jack O'Neill gazes across the desert landscape. They've been here for seven hours, and he can't help it if his thoughts start to wander. He also can't help it that a soap opera opening keeps running through his mind – he's been stuck in the infirmary too often when the nurses have it playing.
As sands through the hourglass... So are the days of our lives.
He doesn't think that applies to anyone better than his team. Because they know that the sand means more than just the passage of time. It's a wearing away. A subtle aging process that takes years, and maybe nobody else notices but him.
Notices how his "kids" have grown. How their sparkle of innocence has been slowly replaced by the glint of steely resolve. How their trusting nature has turned to careful consideration. And maybe the laughter doesn't come as easily to them as it did before, but when it happens, it's still genuine. Maybe her smiles don't always match her eyes. But she still smiles. Maybe he thinks more about tactical advantage than he used to, but he still believes that peace is possible, most days.
And that's when it hits him – the truth of it all. It's them that are growing older and wiser, not him. Perhaps the sand has decided he's had his share for one lifetime. That if it continued its process, he would fade and disappear like so many forgotten things do. What if it's been giving him what it takes from them? – youthful belief, trust in their fellow man, the ability to sleep through the night.
His breath is stolen. He never asked that of them. It doesn't seem like a fair trade to him, and if he could give them back what they've given him, he would. But a little voice whispers inside that maybe he needed it more than them. Maybe they can handle it where he could not – they have some to spare. Maybe it's their gift to him. A thank you for protecting them as much as he has, for as long as he did... for trying.
Maybe they understood going in there would be a cost. That they were too different from him, and there would have to be a balancing out. He was broken, so they used parts of themselves to put him back together. A give and take until they became each other.
So he hasn't faded or disappeared like so many forgotten things do, because he isn't forgotten, and they will keep him that way, protect him in their own way, no matter what it takes.
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The End
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