ALARNA
Summary: This is non-canon, drama with Sam/Jack ship and hopefully some action/adventure thrown in. That's all I've figured out so far.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing SG1 and their world, not for profit.
Rating:M (some violence, cussing and adult themes).
Dedicated to: My sister, who got me on to Stargate and is my motivation for writing fanfic.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Between two rows in the sea of tents that was the camp site, Hunter and Ryan sat playing separately as they waited for Patrick to emerge from the supply shelter in front of them. Hunter had his back to Ryan and was digging three tracks of complex tunnels and jumps in the sand. His plan was to roll the little wooden balls he used for juggling down the tracks and see which ball won. Hopefully, it would keep him occupied for a couple of hours. As he worked, Hunter stuck his tongue out in concentration and occasionally yabbered aloud, hypothesising about the depth of the tunnels and the height of the jumps. Ryan, on the other hand, sat quietly by himself, his attention captured by a small black beetle scrawling across the sand towards the tent behind them, its scraggly legs leaving wiggly trails in the sand.
After a few minutes Patrick exited the supply tent with two large crates stacked in his skinny little seven year old arms. 'I gotta take this to the infirmary,' he stated quickly. 'Don't leave this spot. And make sure you watch him,' he ordered Hunter. 'I'll be five minutes, okay?'
''Kay,' the middle child mumbled, pre-occupied with his digging. He took a quick side glance at his baby brother who had his eyes on the sand, a playful expression on his face. Then he returned to his own project.
When Hunter spun around a few minutes later to dig from the other end of one of his tunnels, a brief flash of movement in the corner of his eye caused him to look up from his engineering to check on Ryan. All he saw was a stubby little leg disappearing underneath the back of the tent they had been sitting behind.
Huffing in exaggerated frustration, Hunter rather reluctantly left his game and scrambled towards the shelter, reaching out in front of him to try and grab Ryan's foot before it also vanished out of sight. But he was too late. Without hesitating, Hunter followed the foot, lifting the tent material a little and commando rolling under. If he lost Ryan, he would suffer at the hands of Patrick, and that was the worst punishment imaginable, bar being punished by their father. Hunter supposed, however, that he could bear being punished by his Dad this time round. In fact, he would do just about anything to see him. Even if it meant being naughty.
Inside the tent, Hunter expected Ryan to have crawled or tottered off already, away from his pursuer. However, after shaking the sand from his thin, fair hair, he looked up to find his baby brother standing right in front of him – one chubby fist clutched around the waist of his "hand me down" pants in order to keep them from falling around his ankles.
Ryan's other hand pointed a grubby index finger towards the front of the tent. With one eyebrow cocked in question and his mouth open in wonder, the little boy glanced from the front of the tent to Hunter and back to the front of the tent. He looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right word for whatever it was he was studying so intently.
His vision blocked by a stack of crates, Hunter moved closer to his younger brother and followed the line of his extended finger towards the opening of the shelter. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, Hunter made out two figures talking. Slowly, after he examined their movements and listened closely to their voices, the realisation settled in. A warm, wide smile stretched across his face and he bolted forward on his energetic little legs.
Standing at the front of the tent was their father.
Jack had his back to the boys as he spoke to Harriman in the makeshift armoury. It wasn't until Hunter started barrelling towards them that the Sergeant saw the children either. Looking up from the ground, Harriman was surprised to see a human cannon heading straight for them. 'Uh…sir?' he interrupted Jack mid-sentence, nodding his head in the direction of their assailant. Puzzled by Harriman's unexpected interruption, Jack slowly turned his head to see what the Sergeant was eyeballing. He was just in time to spot a rush of movement in front of him and then feel the impact as his son rammed into his knees.
'Daddyyyyy,' Hunter bellowed as Jack grimaced in pain.
At the back of the tent, still standing with his mouth open and his finger pointing, Ryan repeated the moniker in a questioning tone. 'Dadd-uh?' he said softly, almost to himself, as if he were trying the word for the first time.
Pre-occupied by the human cannon now wrapped tightly around his legs, Jack didn't notice Ryan standing in the shadow of the stack of crates. He crouched down to Hunter's level and grabbed the boy around the upper arms, pulling him away from his body so he could look in his eyes.
'Hunter! What the hell are you doin' in here?' he said rather forcefully, shaking the boy a little. He didn't mean to be rough, but the kid's approach had taken him by surprise, and the situation being what it was, well, one couldn't help but be on edge.
Unperturbed by his father's reaction, Hunter grinned and writhed in Jack's tight grip, trying to point towards the spot where Ryan now sat. 'Ry found you,' he replied.
'Ryan?' Jack questioned in surprise, loosening his grip on Hunter and looking up.
'Sir,' Harriman started.
Jack turned to look at the Sergeant, who stood pointing with his eyes to the back of the stucture. Following Harriman's line of sight Jack eventually made out Ryan's figure, sitting comfortably in the sand, his attention focused on the open palm of his hand.
After spotting Ryan, Jack let go of Hunter's arm completely and strode towards the toddler. He couldn't figure out how they had gotten in without him knowing. When he reached Ryan he realised the child was playing with something in his hand – something that looked like a beetle.
'Hey big guy,' he greeted, wincing a little as he bent to scoop the boy into his arms. 'Whatcha got there?'
Ryan, who didn't much enjoy being held by anyone but his mother and possibly his oldest brother, seemed okay in Jack's strong embrace. He didn't wriggle or react adversely, just stayed quiet and stuck out his hand to tip the bug into Jack's.
'A Sana bug, 'ey?' Jack's grimace increased as he got a better look at the beetle. 'Great,' he muttered under his breath. 'Just what we need.'
'Lemme see, lemme see,' Hunter squawked. He had trailed close behind Jack and was now standing on tip toes tugging at his father's trouser leg, craning his neck for a look at the creature. 'Has it got teeth?' he asked excitedly.
Jack raised his forehead and looked at Hunter in mock horror. 'Has it got teeth?' he teased. 'Of course it has teeth! Big, nasty canines,' he exaggerated in amusement, playfully snarling his teeth like a wild dog.
'Lemme see, lemme see,' Hunter raised his voice higher, his face etched with excitement.
Jack closed his mouth and grinned with tight lips. He lowered his arm for Hunter to coax the bug into his own hand, the whole time looking at Ryan as if to say – 'can you believe this guy?'
Meanwhile Ryan had placed both hands on Jack's jaw and was tentatively brushing his fingers backwards and forwards over his father's two day stubble, as if testing to see if the man truly was his father. 'Dadd-uh,' he said again, more confidently this time and without question.
Stumped by the affectionate touch of his baby son, Jack could do nothing but jig him in his arms gently, place his forehead in Ryan's hair and inhale the scent of him. All that mattered was this.
After O'Neill had dismissed Harriman, he took the boys outside and turned to Hunter to begin grilling him about how they had gotten into the tent. But before he could ask, they were interrupted by shouting from behind the armoury.
'Hunterrrrr… Hunterrrrr…'
Jack looked to his most mischievous son. 'Sounds like you're in trouble, Sparky.'
Hunter was already frozen to the spot. 'It weren't my fault,' he rushed. 'Ry crawled under the tent and I had to follow 'cause if I didn't he woulda got lost and then I'd be in bigger trouble and…'
'Yeah yeah, blame it on the two year old,' Jack stuck his head out around the side of the shelter, searching for his eldest son. 'Just let me do the talkin', okay?' he scruffed Hunter's already unruly hair affectionately, garnering a half hearted grin.
Jack took his six-year-old's hand, and the trio followed the sound of Patrick's voice until they found him searching under tent flaps where he had left the two boys. Whirling around in frustration with an angry look on his face, Patrick stopped in his tracks when he saw the three of them standing to the side. Ignoring Jack completely he threw his hands up at Hunter.
'Where the hell have you been?' he swore, his face turning slightly red with rage.
'Hey,' Jack reacted, he could see now why Hunter was uneasy about facing his brother. 'Easy Paddy,' he'd never witnessed the older boy's temper until now.
Ignoring his father once more, Patrick continued to discipline his sibling. 'I told you to stay where you were,' he barked, moving closer to Hunter, who increased his grip on his father's hand.
'Hey!' Jack said again, more vigorously this time. 'That's enough, Paddy.'
Gaining some courage, Hunter lunged forward a little, as if he were driving a sword at his brother. 'It weren't my fault,' he spoke up, returning very quickly to his father's side.
'Didn't I say I'd do the talking?' Jack raised his eyebrows.
'That's a joke,' Patrick scoffed under his breath, stepping forward to reach out to Ryan who was now sitting quite comfortably on Jack's arm, toying with the sunglasses around his father's neck. 'Come on Ry, we gotta get back to Aunty Jen,' Patrick persuaded. 'Ry,' the eldest boy stretched his arms out further, wriggling his fingers up at his baby brother. 'Let's go, come on.'
Distracted for a second, Ryan looked up, stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head. 'Dadd-uh,' he said once more for good measure, pressing his finger hard into Jack's chest.
Jack watched in stunned silence as Patrick spun his back on the three of them, a hint of hurt creeping across the seven-year-old's face. Since when had his 'old reliable', best fishing buddy and chess partner become so angsty?
'Fine!' Patrick snapped. 'Stay with him then,' he stormed off, back in the direction of the parade ground.
'Paddy!' Jack called after him, taking a few jerky steps in the sand. He had forgotten how heavy a two year old was. 'Paddy! Come back here, will you?' But Patrick had begun running and even if he had heard, he wasn't about to stop.
'Aw crap,' Jack muttered inaudibly, closing his eyes with defeat. It seemed he had a lot of mending to do in that department. A minute ago, everything had seemed so clear. Now his vision was clouded once more.
When O'Neill opened his eyes again, Hunter stood watching the space where Patrick had run off, his fist clenched closed, presumably with the Sana bug still alive inside.
'He doesn't like being called Paddy, you know,' the middle child announced out of nowhere, as if that were the reason Patrick had fled.
'Since when?' Jack retorted. 'I've always called him Paddy.'
'Exactly!' Hunter replied nonchalantly. His point made, he returned his attention to the imprisoned beetle.
A little astonished by Hunter's logical insight, O'Neill stood stock still, shaking his head in disbelief. It was all to much for his over-exercised brain.
Carter found Ham'lar sitting alone by the lake, two 'chaperones' at the rear, within eyesight but out of earshot. As she approached, Ham'lar made no move, waiting for her to reach his side before he acknowledged her presence.
'I knew you would come,' he said calmly and with a touch of what Carter perceived as relief.
Had she been that obvious, she thought as she crouched down beside him. 'You know why I'm here?' she asked, genuinely shocked.
Ham'lar didn't reply.
'You lied about the transmission,' Carter continued after a moment, blurting out what she had been meditating over all night.
Ham'lar almost smiled, a sad sort of smile. 'Selmak was right about you, Samantha Carter,' he said softly. 'You are a very wise and perceptive young woman.'
Carter winced at the mention of her father but crusaded on, not willing to give up her investigation. 'The communication device you had with you was the same one that Camp Vanou was issued with last year,' she explained. 'We were able to transmit messages, but we couldn't receive them without sending one first. I remember distinctly that Sergeant Siler reallocated the device to your transport team after it was decided that Vanou was in need of a more reliable service,' she took a breath.
'You have a good memory, Colonel Carter,' Ham'lar sighed. 'I knew it was only a matter of time before you saw through my fabrication.'
'But why did you lie?'
'You don't believe I am a traitor?' he asked dubiously.
'No.'
'General O'Neill seems set to prosecute me. As he should,'
Again, Carter sensed something sad in Ham'lar's words, something like remorse, or was it despair? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. 'I don't always subscribe to General O'Neill's opinions,' she responded, taking a moment to think. 'In fact, I rarely do.'
In any other situation, she might have garnered a warmer smile from the Tok'ra. But as it was, Ham'lar no longer felt the need to make light of the situation.
'I'm glad it was you, Colonel, who came to me, for I know you will comprehend. You have after all, been in a similar situation.'
'Comprehend what?'
'It may take a while to explain. I doubt you have time to listen to our story right at this moment.'
'Ham'lar, I want to know the truth. Now. No matter what it takes.'
'You want the truth Colonel?' the Tok'ra lowered his chin to his chest and raised it again, his eyes glinting as his host, a Yalarnan by the name of Fehr, took control of the body. 'The truth is – I was a fool.'
A/N: Hello everyone, and thanks for the comments. Happy Easter (for those of you who celebrate it). I'm going away for the weekend so I wanted to get this up now, hopefully you'll find the time to read it over the break. I found this chapter so much easier to write and I hope you find it easier to read!
trtlsoup2001: Thanks for the tip. I never thought about the use of single quotation marks – it was always the way I was taught to write. However, I can see where it would be confusing and I will be using double quotation marks as of Chapter Eight. Thanks again, much appreciated.
Cheers and enjoy. Be safe and don't eat too much chocolate!
