Author Note: Well this is my official first Stargate SG-1 FanFic. This story was inspired after watching the episode, Stronghold. My friend Jessie (Boscogirl) who is a huge Reed Dimond fan (played on Homicide: Life on the Streets), discussed how cool it would be if they had a little more back history. So thus the idea came up, and with Mitchell still not having that much back history I thought I would give it a shot. The research was excruciating trying to figure out were Mitchell and Ferguson would be in order for Ferguson to save Mitchell. But I like to thank those that took the time and patience to answer all my questions as I came up with the idea!
Jamieson – God, where do I begin? Thank you so much, for going through and beta reading this for me. You helped me after I butchered the English language and was able to put it back together so thanks! Can't thank you enough!
Pairings – None
Spoilers – None that I can think of and if they were, they would be for the episode Stronghold.
Disclaimer – Own none of the characters, and if you sue believe me you'll just get a pissy computer named Ploppy, and a smelly black German shepherd with a quirky personality. Plus dog comes with a cat, beware cat believes to be Queen of the Universe.
On to the story, enjoy!
All of the Past - Part 1
The twenty-one-gun salute echoed through the entire cemetery as soft, hushed crying could be heard throughout the ceremony. 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust' were the last words spoken as the coffin began to be lowered into the ground and soon the people standing or sitting began to dissipate, all but one.
A middle-aged man who had been standing further in the back, arms to his side in full dress uniform had finally got enough courage to slowly walk up to the man-made grave. The sudden ball in his throat threatened to make its presence known, but training kicked in and he was able to swallow.
"I would have done it for anyone."
Lt. Col. Cameron Mitchell sighed heavily his eyes slowly moving away from the tombstone that seemed to be staring right into his soul, turning it on the outside to be read by everyone. Catching a soaring bird in the sky, gliding in the wind, he wondered if that was how his friend now felt, that he was now free and flying. No longer in pain, or having to worry about his body giving out and betraying him with nothing but agony and suffering.
Then something caught his attention and Mitchell heard the sound of somebody walking up behind him. He lowered his gaze once again to stare at the tombstone of Major Bryce Ferguson. Out of his peripheral vision he saw blonde hair and knew who was standing next to him, with arms behind her, standing at ease. Lt. Col. Samantha Carter.
Carter kept trying to form words in her mouth, trying to find the right way to say how she felt. But what do you say to somebody that has lost a friend and had nothing but guilt over his death? 'Hey, sorry about your friend, but there's nothing you can do now, so get over it' No, that's hardly the right way to approach such a thin and pin-and-needles kind of emotion. So, leaning on the balls of her feet, she simply said,
"Hey."
Never taking his eyes off the gravesite before him, he gave her some acknowledgement by nodding his head. She might not have caught it if she had not allowed her eyes to travel to his face, hoping she could find some emotion or try and read what he was thinking.
"Thought you could use the company," she finished, letting her eyes go back to the grave. Carter had every intention of standing there until nightfall itself fell upon them. She knew what it was like to have the world crash around you and it seemed there was no one there to grasp your hand and pull you back up. Though Mitchell was still fairly new to their team and had not been around as long as Teal'C, Daniel and herself, he was still a good man at heart and deserved to have somebody there for him.
"Thanks."
At first Carter was not even sure Mitchell had spoken until she looked over at him and saw him staring at her. Though his face was set, holding back, his eyes spoke the world to her. Hurt, and confusion were was very evident in his deep blue eyes.
She nodded her head towards the cars, "Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee, you look like you need it." She gave a soft smile as she turned around to begin walking; Mitchell took one more glance at the tomb and then proceeded to follow her.
Mitchell stared at the coffee sitting in front of him, trying to will his hand to pick it up and drink it but he could not even muster his body to do that. Carter was sitting in the seat in front of him stirring her coffee, getting the cream to mix evenly. Finally done with this task, she put the spoon on the plate next to the cup and then picked it up and began sipping, watching him.
"Coffee's going to get cold," Sam spoke softly. His eyebrows shot up a hair and then went back down as he nodded his head. Finally he took a sip of his coffee shaking his head as though in agreement with how the brown liquid tasted.
He finally curled his lip, "This coffee is horrible." His bright blue eyes looked up and caught Carter's, which caused a smile to break out on her lips.
"Yeah it does kind of suck."
Moving the coffee cup in his hand back and forth slowly he sighed heavily and finally began speaking finally, "Did you know that if Bryce hadn't gotten hurt, he would probably have my place as the team leader."
"You don't know that, Cam." She shifted in her seat "Unless you can predict the future that I'm unaware of, how do you know that him getting hurt was suppose to be and you were meant to be here with us at SG-1."
Mitchell's eyebrow shot up and then produced a soft nod and a short laugh came out of his lips, "Sometimes I really wish I could."
Samantha Carter took another sip of her coffee, wondering how she could help Mitchell without being too overbearing or putting salt on a wound that was still bleeding furiously. Thus it surprised her because Mitchell beat her to the punch and began talking before she could even think up something to say,
"It happened when we were overseas. Tiny base in Iraq…hot always hot…guess you'd expect that with a desert." He smiled and, looking down at his coffee, took another swig of it, realizing how much time he let pass before he had taken his last drink. The coldness setting into it was fairly evident.
"You had your scares but for the most part, my job was to keep the airspace clear, Bryce sure liked to goof off any chance he got though."
(Iraq – 2002)
Two gray, slick F-16 Fighting Falcon jets flew by the Black Hawk chopper that had just been given clearance to take off. The chopper struggled a few seconds with the turbulence that came suddenly by the two jets streaking by, and which snickering could be heard over in the radio.
"Little bumpy for you back there, Captain?" Mitchell asked over the radio as he glanced over to see Ferguson on his right side.
"Damn hot-shot pilots."
"Ahhh is that anyway to speak to a commanding officer?" Ferguson replied the childish tone in his voice was obvious.
This would not be the first nor the last time Air Force and Army would clash or do something to get under one another's skin. Each branch despised the other, and it was always about who had the bigger guns and who had the more dangerous job.
"No, sir," the Army captain growled under his breath.
"That's what I thought. Try not to crash your Black Hawk into anything, Captain." Ferguson said as he gave the chopper pilot a mock salute with his middle finger the only thing hitting his helmet.
"Now kiddies play nice, be safe and watch out for any flybys." Mitchell spoke, as he made his run one more time lowering his landing gear to get ready to put the jet on the ground.
"Don't you mean, watch out for you two?" The chopper pilot responded with a dry tone.
"Never can be careful with us flying. And just think, they pay us." Ferguson said over the radio as he waited for Mitchell to land his jet, so he could come from behind and do the same procedure.
Mitchell took off his helmet, his sweaty hair pointing in different directions, and began climbing out of the cockpit of the jet as the engines whined down completely. He glanced over as Ferguson stopped his jet and pulled off his oxygen mask. Bryce crossed his eyes when he saw Mitchell was staring at him as he began shutting down the systems of the fighter jet. He then popped the canopy after he was done and climbed down the side of the jet hitting the pavement with a thud.
"Little antsy?"
"Hell yeah, I'm hungry!"
TBC….
