Author's Note: I meant for Melancholy to be a one-shot, but later, it occurred to me that Jack probably had things to think about too. Strangely enough, this story turned out several hundred words longer than Sam's POV. Go figure.
Melancholy 2: Jack's POV
This truck reminds me of the one I sold two years ago. Pretty nice for a rental. I don't get to drive much anymore. In the city, lieutenants shuttle me back and forth from my apartment to the office, to meetings and back to my apartment again. I'd rather be on my own, but the Pentagon doesn't give me much choice. Security, they say. So, I go along and save my opinions for things that matter…SGC funding, controlling the I.O.A…issues, instead of preferences. I can put up with being driven around. I don't like driving in Washington anyway. Too much traffic. But at least I don't have to make idle chatter. Seems I have a reputation for being difficult. The lieutenants who chauffeur me around are usually too afraid and too well-heeled to try to make conversation with me, so I've learned to use travel time to sign papers and make calls. But not today.
Washington is about…work…duty…protecting the SGC and the people who work there. Being in Washington for work has allowed me to gain control of the rest of my life, and for that, I am grateful. Weekends and vacations are about living. And that's what I'm doing now.
I glance over at my companion, and my heart skips a beat. She is so beautiful…even though she is this tired. I open my mouth to make conversation, to say something that will amuse her…but then, I decide to let her rest instead. God knows she needs it. I calculate the time remaining in our journey by the landmarks I'm passing. We have about three hours to go. Let her sleep.
I still wonder what she wants with me. When I look in the mirror each morning, I see a guy with too many lines in his face…a man who has done things he doesn't like to think about and some he could never tell another person. I see a man who once lost everything he had. I'll never forget the day I heard a gunshot coming from inside my house. Before I could run all the way up the stairs, I knew what I'd find. My son, my only child, dying…shot with a gun that belonged to me.
After that, life wasn't worth living. I seriously considered putting a bullet in my head, and probably would have if the Air Force hadn't sent two people to drag me to Cheyenne Mountain. I had zip to live for! My wife couldn't look at me, and I couldn't stand myself. It was my fault my child was dead, and I knew Sarah felt the same way. It didn't matter that the gun was in a locked box on a high closet shelf. It was my fault for having it in the house. I knew he was curious about my gun, about my work. And I knew he saw me put that gun away the night before, as I finished cleaning it. I never dreamed he'd be so curious that he'd drag a chair into the closet, pull down the box and try keys until he found the right one. Damn! Don't start crying now, Jack! I wipe away a couple of stray tears. Even after all these years, memories of Charlie still hurt. I need to think about something else. But I can't help but wonder what he would be like now. He'd be in college. I'm sure he'd be tall; it runs in the family. And no matter what he chose to do with his life, I'd be proud of him.
But some things aren't meant to be. Sarah and Charlie fell into that category. Instead, the powers that be decreed that I go through the Stargate again and again…seeing unimaginable horrors, fighting an enemy who seemed unbeatable. It seemed a fitting punishment for a guy who had led the life I lived. I thought about the black ops years, when I had done things for America that I could never tell anyone and wouldn't want to admit if I could. Yep, punishment was what I deserved.
But it didn't work out that way. One day, I realized I had started to care about living again. I looked forward to going to work. SG-1 gave me back my purpose. There was no way I was letting the Goa'uld come to Earth, enslave millions and ruin the lives of other people's children! No way! It was my penance, the atonement for my sins. I would help save the world to prevent other parents from suffering the pain I experienced when I lost my child.
Sometime later…I'm not sure when…I also realized I didn't feel alone anymore. I had grown close to my co-workers. Daniel, Teal'c and Sam had ceased to be just fellow foot soldiers…and had become friends. It's surprising how well we played off each other. The bookworm, the warrior, the brainy scientist and me. Who'dathunkit? But we became friends…and later, more like family.
Except I definitely don't think of Sam as my sister.
Not even close.
From the minute I met her in that conference room at the SGC, Samantha Carter has mesmerized, confounded and fascinated me. She's brilliant, sassy and…hot. And why she agreed to marry me, I'll never understand.
After Sarah and I divorced, I gave up on having anything good in my life again. My son was dead. My wife left me. I deserved…nothing. I was convinced of that. But as the work gave me purpose, Sam gave me…hope.
I remember her sense of awe the first time she stood in front of the event horizon. She had a childlike excitement about her that actually amused me.
I learned to respect her early in our working relationship. When she was kidnapped by that love-struck Shavadavi boy and sold to a chief, it was a pretty dicey situation. But she stepped up to fight the guy…and showed him she had the guts and the ability to beat him in a hands-to-hand fight. Was he ever whupped! By the time we got stuck in Antarctica, I had learned to have faith in her abilities. So, I wasn't surprised she managed to keep me alive until help arrived.
I'm not sure when it happened, but slowly, I fell in love with my 21C. I knew I felt protective of her…as if she needed that. I knew I admired her and her ability to think her way out of a crisis I'd shoot at instead. After we had worked together about a year, we were exploring a planet when we found the quantum mirror…and Daniel ended up on the other side of it. When he came back, he told us about the alternate SGC he had found…complete with a General Jack O'Neill and a Dr. Samantha Carter who were engaged. It was…spooky, almost as spooky as finding out the alternate Earth had been overrun by the Goa'uld.
Just over a year later, an alternate Samantha Carter came through the mirror into our SGC, and we learned she and the Jack O'Neill in her reality had been married! Ok…that blew my mind. It was also a little disturbing to find out he had been killed in the fight with the Goa'uld. Her grief over the loss was visible, and reminded me of my own fight against my memories. And when I kissed her just before she left us, it made me think…about kissing "my" Sam. I guess that's when I realized I already thought of her that way.
The next few years were a constant battle on both the professional and personal front. Sam and I grew closer as the battle with the snakeheads heated up and the replicators came on the scene. It was stressful for both of us—caring without letting it show, resisting the urge to cross the line for the additional closeness we both wanted. But when she started dating Shanahan…I felt like I had been shot in the gut. I thought I had lost her, and I began to feel like a lost man again. And when I became a General and quit going through the gate with my team, I just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. That was a bad year.
I look out the window at the familiar sights. I feel freer here than anywhere else in the world. Sometimes when I'm here, I feel like a kid again. At times, I forget my darkest hours. Driving down these Minnesota roads, I can even think without my head hurting.
To the right of me, Sam stirs. A gentle rain has begun, and the sound of the drops is soothing. The wipers add a gentle beat to the rhythm. I switch on the headlights. It's getting a little dark. I smile as I glance over at her. Her mouth is open, and she is snoring ever so slightly. Some might find it dorky, but to me, she's beautiful no matter what, when or where she is. For cryin' out loud, O'Neill! You are SOOOOO lame!
This newfound happiness came a little over two years ago, when a lot of the issues keeping us apart were resolved around the same time. We beat the Goa'uld. Sam realized she couldn't go through with her wedding to Shananigan. And Kerry Johnson, the CIA agent I had been dating, broke off a relationship with me after realizing Sam and I had unresolved personal issues. Yeah—that's an understatement!
And then, Sam's dad died.
Jacob Carter was a good man. He was strong, smart and bull-headed…just like his daughter. I liked him, and I respected the hell out of him. I still miss him. And I know he's pleased with the way things have turned out. Before he died, he practically told Sam and me we belonged together…in separate conversations, of course. In a way, I feel our marriage honors his memory.
We're just a couple of miles from the cabin now, and my wife is still fast asleep. I know the kind of pressure she is under. I read her reports. She's on the front lines, like I used to be…like I wish I still were each time she steps through the gate. I want to be there to watch over her. Hmmp! For cryin' out loud, O'Neill! Watch over her? She's the most capable, intelligent woman on the planet! Hell, the universe! She can take care of herself. But it's hard to have her going out there without me. I've always felt nothing could happen to her as long as I was along. I still want to do that, like I always did. But if I did, we wouldn't have this.
Which just proves that life is a catch-22. Gain one thing, lose another. Be with the woman you love every day at work. Spend a lot of time with her and always be there to keep her from harm. And keep your true feelings hidden. Or, take a new job and move almost a continent away from her in order to have her in your life when you can manage to be in the same place…when missions and meetings don't conflict. After eight years of living one way, I think the other is better. Despite the distance, the lack of time and the extra worry when missions don't go as planned, the time together makes up for it. Knowing that we belong to each other no matter what keeps me sane.
J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S J&S
"Sam, wake up." I lay a hand on her arm and squeeze gently. "Sam…time to wake up. We're here." I realize she's not going to wake up unless I try another tactic. "Carter," I say a little more sharply, reminiscent of wakeup calls in the field. Her eyes fly open, and she seems startled. I sigh. "Dammit, Sam, don't jump. It's just me."
She seems to be coming around. She turns that beautiful face to me and blinks. "Huh?"
"Hey," I say softly, moving to push a lock of hair from her eyes. She is so beautiful, even when she's dazed. "We're here."
"Great," she murmurs, shaking her head and glancing around. "Yeah…uh…I'll get some stuff."
"Nah, you've been asleep for a couple of hours. Gate lag, I guess. You just sit here a few minutes and get yourself awake. I can handle the gear."
I slowly caress her arm, and lean over to press a quick kiss to her forehead. I move to the back of the truck and start to unload supplies. I sling duffel bags over each shoulder and grab a couple of bags of groceries. The ice chest will have to wait. I breathe in the fresh country air as I start into the cabin. It's good to be here again.
After unlocking the door, I set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and move down the hall to toss the duffels in the bedroom. I've been coming here for years, but since she started coming with me, the place seems to have a different personality. It's brighter somehow, homier…kinda like when I came here as a kid.
I head back out of the cabin and see her standing beside the truck. Our eyes meet, and she smiles invitingly. I walk over and put my arms around her, pulling her close to me. "Hey, sleepyhead, welcome back," I whisper, leaning in to kiss her. She is so warm, so soft, so…Sam. She lets her weight fall against me and I hold her tighter. She responds by deepening the kiss. It's passionate, almost desperate. No problem, I'm game. She moves backwards into the truck and I lean against her. I haven't seen her for a month, and I know she can tell how much I want her. By the way she's moving against me, I think she feels the same. Time to take this indoors.
I pull back and grin. "What were you dreaming about?" She just looks at me, those deep blue eyes so open and honest that shivers run down my spine. "Tell you what. Let me unload the rest of the stuff. Then we'll go to bed and you can tell me all about it." She blushes, which just amazes me. I lean down, kiss her neck, and breathe in her sweet, familiar smell. Then, I nip at her ear and move a hand down to caress her backside. Ok…if I keep this up, we'll be out here for ages! I back away and move to the truck bed to get the ice chest. As I pass by her, she's breathing a little quickly, but she's smiling and giving me…that look I treasure so much. It tells me something special is right around the corner, and there's no doubt the woman I love loves me in return.
Once inside, I quickly unload the perishables into the fridge. I open a bottle of wine and pull a couple of glasses from the cabinet. I pour each about half full. Then, I take them to the bedroom, put them on the bedside table, light a couple of candles and turn down the bed.
Returning to the front room, I notice she still hasn't come inside. "Carter! It's getting a little cold in here without you!" I call, as I kick off my shoes. I hear the truck door slam and her approaching footsteps. Whether I deserve it or not, I'm truly happy. Oh, yeah. I love my life.