~Exile, day 90~
The storm strikes suddenly, violently, during one of those hot, sweltering nights that have robbed them of sleep for the past few weeks. Lightning slashes across the sky, and rain pours relentlessly into the stockade.
Jack and Vala grab their bedding and retreat quickly to the back of the cave, finding a seat on the rocks that is slightly higher than the floor level. The wind shrieks and rocks the log wall. Outside, trees splinter and crash; one of them falls on the wall, and branches and debris shower down inside the shelter. Jack shoves Vala closer to the back of the cave, turning both their backs to the fury outside. He pulls her in front of him protectively, and yanks the tarp around them. There's nothing they can do except cower and wait.
Rain comes down in torrents, and soon the floor of the shelter is a muddy quagmire.
~Exile, day 100~
Jack stands watch as Vala bathes in the stream. Behind him, he can hear her splashing. It's midday, and the sun is warm, but the air is cool, and he knows she won't take very long. That last storm, ten days ago, seems to have broken the summer heat, and it's been distinctly cooler. He wonders if this is the start of the change of season.
They've been here one hundred local days. That's about fourteen earth weeks. He doesn't bother to split hairs and figure it down to the day—he could if he wanted, but it's not worth it—he just likes having an approximation.
He and Vala must have been listed as MIA by now. Gone, but not forgotten—he hopes. He shakes the thought out of his head. Of course, they're not forgotten! SG1 is doing everything they can to solve the problem. More important, Carter is doing everything she can! He hopes she isn't making herself sick in the process. He knows how she operates—full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes! No sleep, no food. Daniel and Teal'c better be watching out for her! He'll be on their case when he gets home if they're not!
It lifts his spirits a bit to think of home. Hot running water! Steak that he hasn't had to shoot himself with a homemade bow and arrow! Clothes that actually have some shape and color left! The two sets of BDUs they each brought along are looking pretty ragtag by now.
Let's see, what else does he miss most about home? Now isn't that a no-brainer! Sam, of course...
And there goes his quasi-good mood. Thinking of her as Sam is a mistake. Missing her catches him off guard—the feeling hits him like a sledgehammer. He actually sags a little, as if punched in the gut. He doesn't let that happen very often—he can't afford to. He has to keep going. Stay strong. He has to make sure he and Vala are still alive when Sa—when Carter figures it out and they come to get them!
Yeah, just think of her as Carter. Not that it's any less personal—any less her—than... her first name. Just that it's got the whole military thing attached to it. He thinks of Carter in BDUs, with a P90, going through the gate, or working on a doohickey in her lab, not... otherwise. (in that blue dress, with the plunging back she wore to dinner...)
He straightens and clears his throat, clearing his mind of the image... Deliberately doing a 180 sweep of the forest in front of him, concentrating hard on every tree and possible enemy hiding place—
"I'm done, General."
He jumps a foot, and turns around to find Vala approaching, wearing her BDUs with a solar blanket wrapped around her, her wet hair hanging to her shoulders.
She frowns. "Are you okay?"
He stiffens, gives her a lopsided grin. "Yep. Just fine. That didn't take long."
"Too cold," she says. "At least the sun's warm. Do you need me to watch for you, General?"
"No," he answers. "I'll wait til tomorrow." They start back toward the shelter. "And I think it's time you start calling me Jack, don't you?" he adds.
Her eyebrows go up and she smiles. "Okay. Jack. I can do that. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For letting me call you by your name—I guess. That's sort of a friendly gesture among the Tau'ri—is it not?"
"Yeah... well, Jack's easier to say than General. One syllable. I like short and simple." He feels a little silly, but it's the truth. Hearing 'General' always makes him want to jump to attention.
"One syllable. I see," she says, nodding. She grins. "Just don't ever think about calling me Val."
He swivels his head to look at her, and then bursts out laughing. "Never in a million years," he promises. "You are definitely not 'Val'."
~Exile, day 121~
Summer is drawing to an end. The nights are cooler and the days shorter. Jack surveys their garden. Root vegetables have done quite well—carrots, beets, potatoes—and that's good because they will be easiest to keep through the Winter. Beans are still coming in from his second planting. Peas have gone by, but he's saving some for seed for next year. Winter varieties of squash are ready to harvest. The corn—an early maturing variety—has been harvested, and is drying. From the dried kernels they are grinding cornmeal and making a coarse kind of cornbread. Vala found a bowl-shaped stone in the stream, and with another smaller smooth stone they have a grinding mill.
They found more of the rye-like grain growing beyond the edge of the forest, and he has cleared another garden patch and seeded it, hoping it will be something like winter rye. Seeds have also been saved for Spring sowing.
On an excursion south into the grassland, they discovered there are antelope-like animals, the size of a very large dog, which are plentiful in the area. A hunting trip in that direction about every ten days has contributed greatly to their protein supply. They've found salt deposits by following the deer paths, so they can salt some of the meat to preserve it longer. Skinning the animals carefully, they are curing the skins with the salt. Jack plans on tanning them. Buckskins! Jack thinks. Not actually a bad idea. And moccasins.
They have no idea how long Winter will last, or how severe it will be, so Jack has been digging a root cellar. He plans to make it bigger than needed for simply storing vegetables, so that they can use it for shelter if Winter is too cold. Vala cringes at the thought of living in even more of a cave, but they don't really have a choice. The cabin he is building is several months from completion and their stockade is not weatherproof, as the rains have proved to them more than once.
~Exile, day 128~
He's showing her how to knap flint to make arrowheads and knives. They've recently found a place where there's obsidian, which can also be used to make cutting tools. She's frustrated because the pieces aren't coming out the way she wants. He chuckles and assures her that she's doing fine—it took him a long time to get the knack, too.
~Exile, day 141~
The nights have cooled down enough that they have retreated to the tent for sleeping. The days have shortened to approximately ten hours of daylight, so they are forced inside the stockade earlier.
Jack has made a lot of progress on the root cellar. It should be finished in another few days. One section is for their food storage, the other for shelter. He is lining the walls of the living section with rock, and has built a fireplace and chimney in the end farthest from the food storage area. They should be able to move into it any time if the weather gets colder.
They build a fire and prepare their evening meal. Tonight there is fresh venison, as they returned from a hunting trip just the day before. There is also fried cornbread, and beans.
After they have eaten Jack takes out the journal and makes the daily entry by firelight. "One hundred and forty-one days," he says. "Nearly four Earth months."
Vala doesn't answer, but just sits staring into the fire.
When he's done with the journal, Jack is ready to sleep.
"I'm going to sit up for a little while and watch the fire," Vala tells him.
"Don't stay up too late."
"Yes, Dad," she quips.
Jack chuckles as he crawls inside the tent and into his sleeping bag. He falls asleep almost immediately.
He doesn't know how much later it is when he wakes. He's alone in the tent. The fire is still burning—he can see the light flickering on the tent wall. He pulls back the tent flap and can see that Vala is still sitting by the fire, her back toward him. She doesn't move as he pushes aside his sleeping bag and comes to the fire. He sits down beside her, with his back to the dying flames, so they are face to face.
"You all right?" he asks quietly.
It's a while before she speaks. She's sitting with her knees drawn up and elbows resting on them. Her hands are clasped together in front of her face. "Four months, Jack," she says softly. "It's been four months, and they haven't come for us."
"They'll come. Carter's pretty smart, y'know. She won't give up, and she'll figure it out."
"How are they going to get to us?"
"I've been thinking about that," he says. "The most likely way would be a jumper ship with a time-travel thingy installed."
"Those are the ships from Atlantis, right?"
"Right."
"But why haven't they come already? I mean—no matter how long it takes them to figure it out, couldn't they set the device to get here when we first arrived?"
"Uh..." Jack frowns, not sure how to answer that. "They don't know where in the past to aim for, Vala. We don't even know when we are."
"Then there's no way they can find us!" She is beginning to sound desperate. "We could be anywhere—anytime... They're never going to find us!" She turns to him. "You knew this! That's why you've made us work so hard! We're stuck here, for the rest of our lives..."
"No! We don't know that! I don't know that..."
"Yes, you do!" There are tears in her huge violet eyes. Nevertheless, she glares at him accusingly. "You've known it all along! We're lost! We're hopelessly lost..." Her voice trails off and she starts to cry.
He moves closer and wraps his arms around her. "We'll be all right," he says softly. "Whatever happens—we can do this. Look what we've managed to do already..."
She cries hard for a few minutes, but his embrace is soothing and gradually she accepts the comfort. Her head is on his shoulder and his voice is a deep rumble against her skin. His beard tickles her. She closes her eyes and absorbs his nearness. Wow! He is an incredible hugger! His arms seem to envelope her completely and his hands stroke easy circles on her back. God! She has missed being held! And holding someone... She lets her arms slide around him, pulling him closer and turning her face into his neck; the skin of his neck is warm—and prickly where the whiskers grow. He smells like woodsmoke and evergreen and faint male sweat. She slowly relaxes and her tears dry.
He feels the tension in her body lessen as she leans into him, and her arms feel good around his waist... comforting. He allows his head to snuggle lightly into the curve of her neck.
For a long time they simply sit like that, drawing strength from one another's presence. At last she straightens a bit and he lets his arms loosen so that he is holding her lightly. She pulls away enough to look into his face.
He smiles. "Better?"
She stretches up and kisses him on the lips. The kiss is warm and too long for just a peck, but too brief for him to work out its meaning. When she leans back their eyes meet for a moment before she smiles. "Thank you," she says quietly.
"Anytime." He glances aside for a moment. "Think you can sleep, now? There's work to be done tomorrow."
"Isn't there always." The comment could have been sarcastic, but there's no edge in her voice, merely acceptance. "Yes. I can sleep now."
"Good." He drops his arms from around her, suddenly self-conscious that he hasn't already done so. "Let's get to bed, then."
They have been lying in their sleeping bags for about ten minutes, and he is almost asleep when there is a rustling sound from her side of the tent, and she speaks.
"Jack, we have to leave some kind of clues to help them find us."
Jack turns his head toward her. He can see her silhouette, she is propped up on one elbow.
"What do you suggest?" he asks. "We're talking about something that has to last for at least fourteen centuries. Not many things qualify. A pyramid maybe... that would certainly get Daniel's attention. But I don't think you and I can manage that alone."
"There has to be something we can do. That's why they haven't come yet—we have to stay long enough to leave something for them to find."
"What? Huh!" He blinks at that, not sure what she means, too sleepy to get into it now. "Okaaay. Let's think about it... tomorrow." He closes his eyes again.
"We know where the Peglean town is going to be. That should be the place where we put the message."
"Mmm..."
"It's got to be something the Pegleans won't destroy, or cover up. Something they'll want to preserve. Something in stone. That's it, Jack!" she says excitedly. "A message written in stone! Jack? Jack, are you awake?"
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