Alternatives

Walk Away

Based upon Stargate: SG-1

Rating: PG

- RMI - Takes place late season 8 -

- . - - - . -

"It's over," he said. "I'm done."

He could hear her response, her pleas, as he had heard them in his mind so many times before, when he had previously imagined this conversation.

"Wait."

"NO!" he raised his voice. "I've done the waiting thing! I did it for a long time, Samantha! I'm done waiting!"

"But," she whispered his name like only she could. "I love you."

"NO!" he shouted again. "You don't love me! I don't know if you ever loved me!" He took a deep breath. "You loved the idea of me," he spat. "You loved the idea of someone you could come home to and someone who could take care of you, but . . ."

Pete paused midsentence and stared at his reflection. Nope. He couldn't do it. He couldn't yell at her.

Oh! What if she started crying?

He definitely wouldn't be able to yell at her if she started crying. No chance in hell that he could yell at her if she was crying.

He ran his hands over his face, pausing to rub his chin. He should shave before he went over to her place. He was going to walk away tall. He wasn't going to let her know that she was killing him.

- . - . -

"Pete!"

At least she was pleasantly surprised to see him. "We have to talk," he said. He knew it was cliché, but it got the point across.

She stepped aside and let him into her home. "Oh my God," she said, realizing exactly what he needed to say.

He only took a few steps inside, enough for her to close the door behind her. "I'm ending this, Sam."

Her hand went to her mouth, "Oh my God."

Tears welled in her eyes. Damn, he thought. The sight of her crying really almost changed his mind. "It's over, I'm done."

"Pete, wait . . ."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know I said that I was gonna love you forever, but I'm gonna need that ring back."

She clutched her left hand protectively. "Pete we can talk about this. Just tell me what's wrong and we can work it out."

He shook his head again. "There's nothing to talk about," he said, keeping his voice quiet and calm. "Just . . . just give me the ring and I'm gonna walk away."

Tears slipped from her eyes as she pulled the ring off her finger. "Pete, I just-" she dropped the ring in his outstretched hand.

"I know," he said. "But, I'm done." He stepped past her, opened the door, and stepped out onto her porch. "I wish you the best of luck, Sam, and I hope that you can be truly happy one day."

He walked away. He knew she was still standing in the doorway, watching him leave. He got into his car, glad that he decided to back into her driveway so he didn't have to look at her again. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

And he walked away.

- . - . -

O'Neill, the letter said.

Don't you think for one second that I'm "letting you have her." Because I'm not. I wouldn't do that. For one, on principle, I wouldn't let anyone "have" my fiancé.

I left her because she should never would have been happy with me. Sure, for a short while things would have been great. But, one day, she would have realized that she didn't love me and that marrying me ruined her life. She would end up hating me and hating herself. I couldn't do that to her.

I couldn't do that to myself, but I definitely couldn't do that to her.

So, when things finally change for you two, make her happy. Make her happy because, in the long run, I never could.

It was signed, simply, Pete Shannahan.

Jack frowned at the letter. Shannahan had sent it to his home, obviously meaning for Carter to never see it. That was good, he never wanted to show it to Carter.

Jack looked out the window absent mindedly. Kerry Johnson had wanted to go to dinner with him. He was going to call and cancel. To be honest, he only took the date because Carter was getting married. Hey, what do I have to lose? he had thought at the time.

Carter had always been his "issue," his "baggage." He thought that since she was getting married, she wouldn't be anymore. But, now she wasn't getting married, and he -- sure as hell -- wasn't going to move on now.

He was going to wait it out a little longer, and then try to make her happy.

He nodded slowly to himself, staring out his back window. One day, he was going to make her happy. Because it was the right thing to do.

- . - - - . -