Memories of Loss
Angst/Romance
Summary: "The lingering pain of losing someone and finding comfort in that you are not alone"
Disclaimer: I do not own MGM, the characters or actors of SG-1, or anyone/thing involved. Darn. Author's Note: The story is mainly Sam's POV. Please give me feedback!
The man I loved is gone. The only one who could understand is gone. In my mind I can still see his clear, blue eyes, his pain so hidden well, his love. I long for his touch, his caress again. I want, no, I need him to return. He is the source of my strength, my reason to go on. I love him. I long to feel his tall, thin frame against my skin again. In my dreams I can still feel his warm breath, the taste of his lips. But then I wake, alone. The tears spring to my eyes. I cannot fight them. I miss him. "Daniel, please come back," I whisper, hoping somehow he can hear me.
Everyday, the same old facade, I appear to be cheerful, almost happy. The same old routine of training Jonas Quinn, our new forth member of SG-1. He is sweet, but nothing like how Daniel was. Jonas tries so hard to fit in and learn. "Sam, are you okay?" Jonas asks me. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm okay, just lost in thought," I answer. "About Daniel?" Jonas asks me, a look of understanding on his face. But how could he understand? Maybe there is more to his past that I do not know about. I answer, "Yeah." "You were close, weren't you? He mentions you a lot in his journals." I see genuine concern in his eyes. "We were very close. I really miss him." "He loved you. And you loved him. I could see it in your eyes after. . . you know."
He was right. He was so right. I attempt to fight back tears again. Jonas comes over and sits next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I stiffen, unused to the contact. Jonas half-stutters, "I'm sorry. . . I didn't mean to. . .um. . ." He starts to move away. "Jonas, wait, it's okay. Thanks. I'm glad you're here with me." I hold him in an embrace, feeling the heat from him body. Our eyes meet, pain reflecting pain. There has got to be more to his past. . .
We look at the clock; it's 1500 hours. "We have a briefing in thirty minutes. WE better get ready to go." "Okay, see you there," he replies as he restores his usual cheerful appearance. After he leaves, I think to my self, "So, it's a façade, like mine. What happened in his past?" Curiosity kept my mind off Daniel and me for awhile.
Angst/Romance
Summary: "The lingering pain of losing someone and finding comfort in that you are not alone"
Disclaimer: I do not own MGM, the characters or actors of SG-1, or anyone/thing involved. Darn. Author's Note: The story is mainly Sam's POV. Please give me feedback!
The man I loved is gone. The only one who could understand is gone. In my mind I can still see his clear, blue eyes, his pain so hidden well, his love. I long for his touch, his caress again. I want, no, I need him to return. He is the source of my strength, my reason to go on. I love him. I long to feel his tall, thin frame against my skin again. In my dreams I can still feel his warm breath, the taste of his lips. But then I wake, alone. The tears spring to my eyes. I cannot fight them. I miss him. "Daniel, please come back," I whisper, hoping somehow he can hear me.
Everyday, the same old facade, I appear to be cheerful, almost happy. The same old routine of training Jonas Quinn, our new forth member of SG-1. He is sweet, but nothing like how Daniel was. Jonas tries so hard to fit in and learn. "Sam, are you okay?" Jonas asks me. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm okay, just lost in thought," I answer. "About Daniel?" Jonas asks me, a look of understanding on his face. But how could he understand? Maybe there is more to his past that I do not know about. I answer, "Yeah." "You were close, weren't you? He mentions you a lot in his journals." I see genuine concern in his eyes. "We were very close. I really miss him." "He loved you. And you loved him. I could see it in your eyes after. . . you know."
He was right. He was so right. I attempt to fight back tears again. Jonas comes over and sits next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I stiffen, unused to the contact. Jonas half-stutters, "I'm sorry. . . I didn't mean to. . .um. . ." He starts to move away. "Jonas, wait, it's okay. Thanks. I'm glad you're here with me." I hold him in an embrace, feeling the heat from him body. Our eyes meet, pain reflecting pain. There has got to be more to his past. . .
We look at the clock; it's 1500 hours. "We have a briefing in thirty minutes. WE better get ready to go." "Okay, see you there," he replies as he restores his usual cheerful appearance. After he leaves, I think to my self, "So, it's a façade, like mine. What happened in his past?" Curiosity kept my mind off Daniel and me for awhile.