Disclaimers: I don't own any rights or whatsoever. Anyway, I'm still in need of a beta for a m/m stargate fic.

Please R/R.

"Kate."

"Johnny."

For Christ's sake this was Home Depot. He hadn't thought he would ever see her again, or at least not like this. He hadn't thought he would be this close to her, hear his name from her lips.

And then in Home Depot.

"So, I'll be on my way then", she said. But before she could turn around he grabbed her wrist. Surprised she stared down at his hand and then moved her eyes to meet his.

Goddammit, he knew those eyes; too dark to be brown and so full of fire. She didn't try to free her hand from his grip, didn't move at all.

"A coffee. That's all. Okay? A coffee?" He sounded so much more pleading than he wanted to. She still looked at him, her jaw set.

"Coffee", she agreed finally. He put his hand in the small of her back, just as she bumped into his leg when they sat down. Both of them making sure they were real.

"So, how are you", he asked, and he wanted to know so bad it hurt inside.

"Johnny", she said and he didn't ask anymore. They had been close when they were kids. Big brother and little sister. He was strong and clever, she was fast and smart. He had adored her for being head-strong and oh so proud. And she had loved him for being forgiving and stable.

When he signed up, she stopped talking to him. So pacifistic, so left-wing and ardent.

"You were right", he said eventually, when he couldn't take the silence anymore. "I killed, I tortured, I dropped bombs. And I was asshole and victim at once."

Her gaze was not wavering. "I didn't want to be right", she answered him. And there was none of the satisfaction shown he had expected.

"I didn't know", he said cautiously. He had thought her being right was part of the fight.

She moved her hand closer to his, their fingertips barely touching. "Shit, Johnny, we both knew shit."

And they fell in silence again. For the first time in his life he thought this fight had been about him, only him. It hadn't been about all of her believes and convictions, but him. She had wanted to save him. Probably she hadn't even understood, but she had known.

Her hand moved again, wrapping itself around his. "I never asked for forgiveness", he said and she said, "Johnny." In that tone that made him stop talking.

He wasn't good with words, never has been. But right now he needed all he could get. He wanted her to understand. Charlie's death by his own gun had almost killed him, took away every capability he used to have to forgive. He didn't do it and he didn't ask for it anymore.

He wanted her to know so badly, but even in his own head it sounded helpless and jagged. So he kept his silence.

"Johnny", she said finally. "I'm not…not…I'm your little sister. God, you're my brother, and you go out there following orders and…I don't know. You kill. You're a murderer." And she still held his hand.

"What does this mean?"

She ran her free hand through her hair. "You don't ask for forgiveness and still I'm not the one who can give it to you. Your path is bloody."
God, he could tell she was trying. Trying so hard and being not good with words herself. Maybe she needed him to understand just as much.

"Please, Kate", he pleaded. "Can we be back?"

"Dunno, give me something here."

"I retired twice."

She nodded slowly. "Then why did you go back?"

He looked down at their hands. Maybe he should lie. "I feel like I belong there."

"Doesn't really help your case", her voice was dry and he could see the pain in her eyes. But he had chosen not to lie. Goddamn, why did he always have to choose?

"Look", he put his other hand on top of theirs. "I can't help my case. I make my money with doing shit in the name of this country. I've been to hell for this country."

She nodded. It was such a defeated motion, he thought. "Victim and asshole, at once." She whispered.

Now it was his turn to nod. "Guys like me don't get a second chance, right?"

She shook her head. "I don't know about guys like you."

He almost smiled at that. But it felt so final. He had made the decision to become a soldier, to throw away every single one of her beliefs. And he didn't listen to her fighting anymore when it turned into silence.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there after Iraq", she said suddenly and caught him totally off-guard. He had to concentrate to look at her.

"What?"

She withdrew her hand to rub it over her face but then she put it right back on his hand. "I thought… I thought you might have needed me."

God, yes, he would have needed her. He had had needed her to teach him about humanity again. But she hadn't been there, hadn't been there when the anger and hate threatened to consume him.

"I thought about you a lot back then", he admitted softly. "Thought about all the stuff you screamed at me before you …you know."

"And?"

All the civilians who tried to judge torture were so wrong. Torture, humiliation and pain didn't matter. It was all about survival. When suicide was all you could cling to, your only way to answer to the violence you endured, you clung to it to stay alive. It was all about survival.

He didn't tell her though. She still believed in value of life whereas he had seen so many places where life had no value at all.

So he just shrugged.

"Fuck", she whimpered. And for a moment he thought she had read everything in his face.

"I need to understand", she whispered. "I need to know you didn't sell your soul completely."

He gave her a small smile. "You always thought the soul was a golden backbone."

She lowered her gaze. "Yeah."

"It's not golden anymore." He offered. He didn't know how to explain what it felt like to be this jaded.

"I didn't give you up. Never."

"Felt like it, though", he retorted before he could think.

She nodded. "I know. And I tried. Thought it'd be easier to just give up on you, but I couldn't."

"That's good, isn't it?" He asked and he could see the tears well in her eyes. Goddamn.

"Just maybe not enough." And the tears started to fall. He did the only thing he could think of and pulled her out of her chair and into his lap. They were too old for this, he knew. But she was still his little sister and he had to look after her.

"I'm here", he whispered to her. "Okay? If it's not enough you're the one to leave."

She hid her face in his neck. "I'm so tired of leaving you behind."