Chapter 1 - And so it begins

I'm sitting at the desk in my lab when the telephone rings. There's no caller ID at Stargate Command so I always answer with some trepidation these days. Since our last encounter with the Ori I've been feeling somewhat lost at sea. What a silly expression for an Air Force Colonel to use. I mean I feel a little lost. I just don't know which direction I should be heading in anymore.

After a decade of knowing my role, fighting the good fight, I find myself wondering what I should be doing. I know what I am doing. I spend everyday trying to work on a way to prevent the Ori from coming back to Earth. It's just like it was with the Goa'uld. Only worse. And if I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I don't want to do it anymore. I'm tired.

I'm tired of the pressure that I constantly feel on my shoulders and the point in my head directly above the bridge of my nose. Constant pressure. I want it to go away and I want things back to the way they were at the beginning when I first joined SG-1 and everything was new and shiny. And hopeful.

Yes, there was the threat from the System Lords but it had never been such an immediate threat and I had set out for every mission with optimistic excitement. I was the kid in the candy store and my store was huge. As big as the universe in fact. I would lie in bed the night before going off world, stare out the window at the stars and imagine what I would find the next day. Some 'doohickey' as he would call it. A piece of alien technology wondrous in it's alienness. Beautiful in it's inherent unknown. Everyday could be the beginning of something incredible. And it was wonderful.

I know that not everyday turned out to be exactly like that. Some days were bad. A day where the technology was destructive in it's nature, intentionally or not, usually ending with one of us getting hurt, or infected, or dead. Yeah, those days weren't so great. To be honest neither were the ones where we encountered the Goa'uld or another power hungry insane God complex driven alien race. Those days someone just usually ended up being killed, at best maimed for life.

But there was always the hope. And knowing that we were winning. At least some of the time. And we were together. SG-1. A family. My family. Always knowing we would be there for each other, in spite of the adversity we faced.

Only now, looking back, do I realize that for at least one member of our team it was because of the adversity, because of the fight. My God, he couldn't have left any quicker once the war with the Goa'uld was over. I remember talking with his ex-wife once. Years ago it was now. I don't think I can even remember the exact circumstance but I can recall what she said as if she were in the room with me today.

"Jack's so good at running away from his feelings, isn't he? The damn man can face a truck load of the enemy without flinching, ready to stand his ground and die but the minute he has to deal with his own emotions, he's gone. And you never get him back."

Her tone was so bitter, years of hurt tripping off her tongue and I had stood there, baffled, wondering who the hell this man was that she was talking about. Because it definitely wasn't the man I knew. Not my Jack O'Neill. He was always there for me knowing just what I needed when I needed it. I had known with every ounce of my being that he would always be right there at my side. Through the good times and the bad.

I had known nothing.

The phone continued to ring.