There were days Jack O'Neill wondered if saving the world time and time again meant anything at all.
Of course, there was a part of them that understood what he and his team did was beyond important, that it was preventing complete and utter disaster to fall upon Earth, but at the same time, he wondered if his own contributions had anything to do with it. Most days, it came down to Teal'c's knowledge of the Goa'uld or Carter's ability to pull a miracle from the air or Daniel's skills in translating ancient tablets that contained the answer that saved the day. Jack wasn't one for sentimental, emotional bursts of depression and confusion, but he had his days when he really didn't know if he was doing something important.
On those days, Jack would take half of the day off, leave his paperwork at the SGC and go topside for a few hours. Today was no different.
Jack said his goodbyes to Carter, Daniel and Teal'c and entered the elevator. Going up twenty-six floors, he was alone for the entire ride. He used his security card and signed out for the day. He made some smart remark to the airman who held the door for him and made the lieutenant laugh, and took his first deep breath of fresh air in almost thirteen hours.
He climbed into his truck and started the engine, but took the opposite road that did not lead to his house. He needed to just drive. Some days, watching TV was enough, but the odd feelings that were swirling underneath his skin were too much for him. He needed to breathe fresh air and sort everything out.
Come to think of it, that was how he had dealt with the loss of Charlie. He kept most of it locked away, out of sight and out of mind, but when he became a pressure bomb about to go off, he would find a quiet spot to take stock of his emotions, to allow them to come to the surface, where he could safely experience them to the fullest, allow them to overwhelm him, and then slowly work through them. He was honestly confused, and he needed to come to terms with whatever he was confused about. He didn't understand how he could think what he was doing, how he led his team, wasn't important.
He leaned back into his comfortable seat, kept the radio silent, and just drove. He rolled the window down to feel the summer air slap his face. If there was something Jack would never want to trade for anything, it was the feeling of the wind blowing in his face. Daniel hated it, and that was part of Jack's reasons for loving it.
Two hours passed as he made an awkward loop through some Colorado countryside, on the backwards roads that were hardly seen by anything bigger than Jack's own truck, and then back through Colorado Springs. On his first way through, about after an hour had passed, he stopped to get a good burger and milkshake, and then continued on. An hour later, the burger settling warmly in his stomach and the milkshake long gone, he rolled to a stop in front of an active park.
Jack got out of his car and started to walk. He had never come to this park before because he lived on the other side of town, and he wasn't exactly a park sort of guy. Don't get him wrong; he loved the outdoors. He just wasn't a big fan of sharing his outdoors with a bunch of strangers. Today, however, he didn't mind the other people, because he was just walking.
As he walked, he began to sort through his thoughts and general musings. Another mission had gone wrong, and they lost most of SG-14 in a firefight with some Jaffa. There had been too many of the enemy, and not enough cover fire, and they were shot down before SG-1 could hurry back from the Gate to save them. That guilt weighed heavily on him, and that regret brought back old thoughts.
He didn't understand how he could be doing anything important enough to warrant the death of six fine soldiers, six fine men who loved to have fun. He remembered taking SG-14 out for dinner, along with several other SG teams to O'Malley's. SG-14's scientist, Gerard Duke, a surprisingly charming ladies' man with appallingly good looks for a scientist, had managed to meet several young ladies who found military men attractive and get them to sit down with his team. Duke had still been dating the girl he had met that night when he died.
It bothered him that he was responsible for each of these men, and men underneath his command were constantly dying, killed by an enemy they still didn't fully understand. He hated feeling so guilty when he understood, intellectually, that it was not his fault. It was far from his fault, but it still felt that way. In his mind, he could see a million ways he might have saved SG-14, but those scenarios only served to slice up more remorse and throw it around the melting pot of his emotions.
Speaking of emotions? The emotional price of this job was so high, there was a reason his paycheck was a huge as it was. There was too much fear every time he walked through the Gate; that didn't change over time. He knew what awaited him on the other side: evil enemies, snakes in people's heads, torture, injury, and possible death. All of those things had happened to him in the past couple of years, and even the words "standard recon" brought him no comfort. Standard recon for them was getting shot up at every turn.
It could get rather monotonous, after a while.
Jack found a bench and sat down, stretching out his legs. He watched the people walk by, the children squealing as they sprinted after each other, and teenagers migrating in large groups, talking loudly. He focused his attention on two particular teenagers.
One was a blonde boy and the other was a brunette girl. They were walking together, barefoot, carrying their shoes in their hands. The boy's jeans were still rolled up to his knees, but one of the girl's pant legs had slipped down to her ankle. The girl laughed at something the boy said, responded, and then she laughed, and began to chase the boy.
Jack watched as they passed by at full speed, their feet pounding against the concrete. Eventually the girl gave up, shouting joking insults at the boy's back until he turned around and came back, smirking smugly.
There was something undeniably happy about them. Their smiles simply couldn't fade from their youthful faces; they couldn't have been more than sixteen. There was something in their manner that made them seem like brother and sister, and the sight of such a thing eased Jack's heart somewhat.
He turned his eyes elsewhere, to a young woman walking with an older man. The similarity in their features was obviously familial, perhaps father and daughter. Jack's keen eye spotted a sparkling finger on her left hand, and there was a father's pride in the man's eyes. A younger man, the woman's fiancé, joined them, and the father's manner immediately accepted the young man's presence, and it was apparent to anyone looking that they had been a family long before any ring was presented.
Another scene caught Jack's attention, and he was compelled to watch. An older couple, in their forties, was having a picnic on the freshly cut grass of the park. A stereotypical white and red checkered picnic blanket was spread out, and the man was handing the woman a sandwich. He laughed at something she said, and she pressed a kiss to his jaw, near his lips. His grin became a soft smile, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they were together in their happiness, and their grief when he tentatively touched her stomach, and her face became downcast.
At the same time, Jack's vision impaired for a moment as another couple walked past, the man pushing a stroller with a baby inside it, and the woman carrying two small twins.
Life. Death. Happiness and grief. The laughter of a child, the giggles of teenagers making crude jokes and trying their best to support each other through life's troubles, it all swirled together as Jack took it all in. He took a deep breath of the air. Did it all matter, in the end? Would his actions really matter?
"Sir!"
He looked up when his appellation was called by a familiar female voice. A vision of an angel descending from a heaven he wasn't sure existed came towards him, dressed in casual jeans and blue blouse. A happy, friendly smile graced her face as she walked towards him.
Yes. His actions mattered because he'd saved her life on several occasions. It mattered in the end, if only for her, to give her the chance to walk towards someone with that kind of smile on her face.
"Hey Sam." Jack smiled slightly in return, and moved over to give her room. "What are you doing here?"
Sam crossed her legs and shrugged, an unspeakably beautiful smile on her lips. "You seemed kind of weirded out after the mission today. I came to check up on you." She paused. "I don't know why I thought you'd be here."
"I guess you know me a lot better than you think you do." He commented casually.
Yes, it was always for her. Everything was for her, his life, his house, every breath… everything he was and everything he did mattered because it was all for her.