CHAPTER NINE: BATTLELINES
"Okay, I get it." Sam sighed, still smarting from the news she'd received shortly before the end of her shift that Elder Maxson had upheld his initial command; essentially, she was the Deck Chief and for the immediate future her orders were to remain on board the Prydwen and direct the upgrades to the Airport HQ and even the Vertibirds from above. Of course she'd thought about banging her fist against his damn door and giving him a piece of her mind but she'd been stopped by Ingram who shook her head at her in clear warning. 'Leave it a few weeks at least' she'd advised.
Bullshit! she groused, taking a mouthful of beer from Jack's dwindling supply and popping the can on the pork 'n' beans he'd acquired for their 'dinner date' in the lower levels. Surrounded by the ships ordinance, it might not have seemed like the most romantic place but with a few blankets and a radio, sat with her back to Jack's chest, wrapped in his arms as they ate their picnic, she thought it might be the perfect way to unwind after the flare in her temper earlier. She really thought Maxson would have listened to her on this, at least consider keeping her happy, but apparently her 'value' was too high. The thought that somehow that made Jack what… expendable? … that made her furious. As for the man himself, she hadn't yet decided how best to broach it with Jack, given as he'd all but vanished after the run and only appeared long enough to drag her down to the lower decks for their impromptu date.
"Get what?" he asked after a few moments, around a mouthful of something she'd not been brave enough to ask about but suspected was potted meat. She hadn't been able to touch the stuff even before she'd known what had once gone into it. Even with their Minutemen now manning the factories she still couldn't stomach the idea of it.
"Wanting to needle Elder Maxson… guys got a stick up his ass." she confessed with a dry unamused laugh and took a draught of her beer just to wash away the flavour. "I think my promotion to Knight Captain was almost a demotion back to damn Initiate for sticking missile turrets up all over his walls without permission." she started. "And don't even get me started on this ridiculous idea to ground me." she shook her head.
"Oh well, you know. He's an important man, with important goals… yadda, yadda, yadda. Big ol' stick probably helps keep him upright against all that weight of the world crap you know." He winked and she smirked, feeling tension leave her momentarily at Jack's easy humour. "You know, I speak from experience here, that world saving crap gets old fast. And there's never any cake when you do save it. I feel like there should definitely have been more cake." Jack groused in a mostly teasing tone and she recognised his patented distraction technique, more than happy to go with it.
"There was cake at that Presidential ceremony that one time." Sam corrected with a smirk knowing what he thought of that.
"It was fruit cake." Jack muttered darkly. "Who does that? It's practically an insult to the planet. Like they don't want it saving again." he joked. "But seriously," he sighed, "He wasn't going to demote you. I overheard him and Kellis after, guy thinks the sun shines out your ass, although he did wonder how it was I'd ever kept control of you as a CO. Something about resorting to a ball and chain …" he rolled his eyes and she smirked, leaning back and stroking his jaw.
"You like me giving you orders you can pretend are your own remember." Sam teased.
"Hmm." he replied with a soft smile as he threaded his fingers through hers, resting his head on her crown as they sat still for a little while. He still seemed troubled, almost distant; quiet even for him. She recognised his jokes earlier for the deflections they were, there was something bothering him.
"Are you happy?" she murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his throat which made him swallow heavily. "Aside from being stranded in a nuclear apocalypse I mean …" she worried the skin with her teeth and he groaned, his hand sliding around her waist to grip firmly. Sam knew he'd hate that question but she wanted to get some sense of what was going on inside his head right now.
"Aside from that …" he rolled his eyes, as if that could ever be an aside. "I'm happy. I mean I've got beer, a beautiful woman in my lap, who I somehow convinced to marry me… meat of a questionable source and quality… my very own sparkly promotion to Knight Commander..." he trailed off. "Why?" he asked and she could hear a slight tone in that; she realised he was genuinely asking or at least curious as to why she was.
"I just…" she sighed, trying to formulate her words in way that didn't offend him. "Does it feel wrong to you, to be happy?" she asked gently, not certain of the answer herself, or if he really was, but something was clearly eating him. It was a very Jack O'Neill thing to feel bad for not feeling bad. She certainly had felt guilty enough for feeling it at one point or another out here. He glanced down at her and leant in, giving her a kiss so thorough she could feel it all the way down to her toes as they curled inside her boots. She clutched onto the shorter hairs at the back of his head, holding him there.
"It never feels wrong with you." he promised and she stared up into his completely sincere eyes. "Hell, I was quite happy dying on that popsicle stand in Antarctica sharing a sleeping bag with you. This is pretty much heaven in comparison." he added with a grin that she lifted her finger to trace. She'd seen him happy with the Minutemen too, carefree almost. This wasn't quite that; it was quieter but no less real she suspected, except for the shadow that seemed to lurk behind his eyes. She was loathed to poke the depths of it but she had felt the tension and anger bubbling inside of him for weeks, even if he'd tried to mask it. She knew this man better than she ever wanted to know anyone; sometimes there was a downside to knowing too much which was pretty much the story of her life.
Right now, all she wanted to know was what she could do, if anything, about whatever was rattling around in his head. Talking wasn't Jack's strong suit but maybe there were a lot of issues he was still unpacking about their life here. Like the people they'd left behind. He'd mentioned Daniel and Teal'c once or twice recently, like a barrier somehow had lowered around them; she decided to seize on it for the moment.
"Do you think Daniel and Teal'c would be happy for us?" she asked. Jack went noticeably still for a moment before seeming to recover and press a chaste kiss to her lips. Then he pulled back so that he could drop his head to her shoulder and hold her closer; his arms going around her midsection again, effectively hiding his face from her.
"You need to talk about them?" he asked finally, just as she was beginning to worry she'd scared him off, as if that was the last thing he wanted to do.
"They were… are," she corrected, "our family." Sam reasoned annoyed with herself for the past tense slip; she wasn't writing off the idea of ever seeing them again just yet but equally, she didn't want to make Jack uncomfortable. He was right, sometimes she did need to talk about what and who they'd lost.
"I just never imagined my life without them." she admitted finally. "I mean, I certainly never imagined our wedding without them or Janet, or Cassie and my Dad, General Hammond, Mark and the kids …" she trailed off feeling a lump in her throat. "But do you think they'd be happy for us, if they could see us like this?"
Jack's hand began to stroke idly down her forearm, "I think they'd be happy if we're happy." he admitted finally. "Although Daniel will definitely throw a hissy fit that he didn't get to be the Maid of Honour. Teal'c will be furious we didn't get to go to jello wrestling for my bachelor party." he added and she frowned up at him. "What, it was a thing… he made me promise. I think a deal made over donuts was involved."
"But do you think they're happy?" Sam asked quietly and Jack's fingers stilled against her.
"I hope so. I mean, let's be honest. We don't even know if they made it back to Earth."
Sam froze, "What?" she snapped and he startled at the sudden flash of anger in her tone and pulled back as she spun on him. "That's why you haven't wanted to talk about them? You thought they were dead?!" she exclaimed, certain her ire was clear in her expression.
Jack opened and closed his mouth. "Well we have to consider it Sam." he managed, trying not to sound like it wasn't a wrench every time he did and she bit the inside of her mouth to avoid calling him something unpleasant for his sheer idiocy.
"No… no we don't Jack!" Sam hissed at him. "It takes approximately 3.2 seconds to traverse a wormhole. They went through it a good 30 seconds before we even reached the dais. Jack, there is no question they made it through. The blast didn't hit until we were in transit long after they would have reached the other side, destabilising it."
Jack looked genuinely startled by this news then somewhat relieved. "Really?" he managed finally, "Like a hundred percent sure?" Sam slapped him hard across his chest and he caught her hand deftly with a feigned 'Oww'.
"Yes I'm sure, you insufferable ass." she bit out losing the battle to remain polite. "You do realise that should be your new call sign?… 'Jack 'Ass' O'Neill'." she bit out and he grinned not looking nearly mollified enough if this had been the cause of his darker musings. It was so not the response she wanted right now but he didn't give her a chance to argue; launching himself at her and pushing her to the floor, pinning her as his hands held her wrists.
"Now that's just rude." he growled. Jack pressed in and stole a kiss. She pulled back, not quite done with him.
"You really thought they might be dead?" she asked more gently this time, wondering if that had been the shadow haunting his happiness here; that their family, their team were dead.
He shrugged. "I was about 60/40 on it." he admitted. "Although not about Daniel. I mean he's got more lives than a cat but you know T's got form with malfunctioning gates." He ground his jaw working through his tension and leaned down to nip at her neck, hiding his damn face again and Sam groaned despite herself at the feel of his mouth. His lips pressed against her ear. "I thought it best not to dwell given as I figured I had no way of knowing." he confessed finally and she felt a part of her want to reach out and protect this ridiculous man-child she'd bound herself to, from himself. It was a terrible way to live; with the uncertainty and denying your own emotions in case they were wrong.
"Jack honey, I love you but you're an idiot sometimes. Honestly, you've spent the last year practically joined at the hip to the world's foremost expert on the Stargate and wormholes. Did it not occur to you to simply ask me?" she chastised with a hint of fond exasperation creeping into her voice. Her anger bled away as his mouth began a trail down her neck and up under her jaw. He was doing a damn fine job of distracting her.
"True, I could." he acknowledged. He pressed his pelvis against her and she groaned softly pushing up to meet him and demonstrating just how joined at the hip there were. "But she has this damn infuriating habit of descending into this technobabble speak that I find frankly unappealing. Proper nerd." he goaded, clearly wanting to change the subject and get back to snarking with her; only Jack O'Neill would find a back-and-forth snark-fest arousing.
"We're done talking then?" she murmured as his lips found hers and silenced her. Very mature response but she didn't quite have it in her to be mad right now with his tongue stroking along hers and his hands round her ass, squeezing it just the way she liked.
"For the record …" Jack started, leaving her mouth to press a series of little kisses along her jaw, "… and at the risk of sounding like a cliché… being with you is my happy place." he replied. She felt his lips curve against her throat as he dipped lower until he was at the top of her collarbone, lowering a hand to her breast to tease the nipple through her shirt. "But when we do this… that's my Nirvana."
She snorted, clutching the back of his head and holding him there, threading her fingers through his dark hair, feeling him hard and hot against her thigh. She supposed regularly sending her husband to Nirvana was enough to assuage any concerns she might have been harbouring about their sex life recently. She was glad that after eight … no nine years now … she wasn't some sort of disappointment compared to whatever fantasies he'd harboured in all the time they'd not been able to do this.
"Anyone could see us down here. You know the Initiates use this as their rec area." Sam rasped as his hands began trailing beneath her top and traced a pattern beneath her clothes.
"No one's coming down here." he promised, his mouth tracing a path over her stomach, which he'd just revealed. He looked up at her with a smirk playing over his lips.
"What, did you bribe someone to watch the stairs?" she laughed lightly, only half joking as he freed a breast from her bra and in seconds had his mouth fastened around it. He didn't answer and she forced his head up. His lips released her with a wet pop that made her insides clench with fresh arousal. "Oh my God! You did, you bribed someone!" she realised, slightly horrified.
He gave her a mischievous little smirk and took her other breast, ending her argument as she let herself fall back and just enjoy it for a moment. It was bad enough that they were sneaking around to have sex. Jack putting some poor lacky on watch was a little mortifying; they'd know exactly what they were doing down here. At least the Castle had dark little nooks and crannies and their every move and action wasn't on someone's bloody rota.
"Stop thinking." he groused around her breast. "My new job comes with perks… getting to boss other people around and make them stand on random duty to block a random exit, just because I say so, is one of them." he added, which soothed her slightly. Although she supposed, as abuses of power went, that one barely ranked and she was quite pleased at the forethought right about now.
His hand spanned to her abdomen and for the barest of moments he brushed his fingers between her clothed legs. Sam shot up and almost knocked him off her. Her heart pounded as she clutched at her top, trying to calm her suddenly erratic breathing. It felt like he'd stuck her in an electrical socket. She was so frazzled she could barely talk for a moment. She just stared panting up at him as he scrambled back from where she'd knocked him and hovered on his knees over her. A look of abject horror and regret clear on his face.
"Sam baby. I'm sorry. I got carried away in the moment. I just… Jesus I forgot." he stammered looking sick and clenching his fists at his side.
Sam stared at him, feeling her heart rate returning to normal as the knot of tension that had almost instantly formed in her stomach unravelled, as quickly as it had formed. "It's okay." she murmured, wrapping her hands around her midsection. My God, she'd forgotten, or thought she had. She'd thought she was okay. They'd had sex, he'd got her off with just his thigh there enough times… but then he'd been careful not to touch her with his hand until now. A precaution she hadn't thought they'd needed but apparently she'd overestimated her recovery. She felt sick. She closed her eyes for a minute trying to block out his haggard expression as she took steadying breaths. It was like getting doused in ice water and her skin itched suddenly with unease.
"I'm sorry." she mumbled, "I'm sorry. I want you to forget. I want me to forget too… I just… I didn't even think. My body just reacted." she admitted, wiping tears she hadn't meant to let fall as she opened her eyes to watch as Jack scraped his hands through his hair roughly, his nervous gesture, as he stared firmly at the ground, his shoulders tense, clearly castrating himself for the mistake.
"Jack." she reached out to him, touching his tensing arm and sliding her hands to link her fingers with his which didn't seem to want to give. "Please, it's my fault." she pleaded trying to rescue this situation; the sharp knife-like pain in her gut at the thought that she'd somehow damaged them was back.
"The hell it is!" Jack snarled and she watched the anger she'd seen building in him flash for a moment. He released her hand and stood, taking a few calming breaths, stalking across the floor until he reached a girder and bent his forehead to it. His back to her, taking a moment to compose himself. Sam suspected he'd rather have hit something right then. So she waited. Jack wasn't prone to emotional outbursts. She felt guilt and resentment crawl through her. She was breaking them again; hurting him because she couldn't just get over this like a normal person. He turned.
"Stop." he told her firmly and she blinked looking up at him. "Stop that. I see it on your face. This is not on you. For Christ's sake! This is on me." he admitted, his voice breaking with emotion as his dark eyes blazed at her, "I'm a lecherous old bastard that can't keep his damn hands to himself!" he growled, clearly furious with himself for the slip up.
"Jack!" she cried out scrambling to her feet with nervous energy. "I'm your wife. You shouldn't have to censor yourself for me." she responded. "And it isn't lechery. I want you to touch me, okay? I want that. I want you. Just like I wanted you the last few times we've done this!" she felt the desperate need to remind him that she'd been instigating too, that she wasn't shrinking from his touch… not really; just the memories and the feelings his hands on her, like that, apparently evoked. Nor was she playing games. God she hoped he didn't think that. "I didn't mean to react like this, it's just… I can't control it. I'm not trying to lead you on … it's just … it's not like I've got a manual on how to get over this." she snapped feeling a touch of anger that he was taking it onto himself so badly and making her feel worse.
"I shouldn't have touched you like that. You've been clear on what you want and what you don't right now." he rasped, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, like he felt physically ill at the thought of having hurt her.
"Please stop blaming yourself, okay?" she rasped wrapping her arms around her waist, feeling insecure with the man she loved, putting distance between them, as she swallowed down tears she didn't want to fall. "It's not either of our faults… I'm just still work through it I guess." she trailed off shrugging helplessly, trying to explain something that she couldn't even process herself – how could they be intimate in every way but the touch of his hand there could slam the brakes on. Either way it wasn't fair on him and she didn't think it was especially fair on her either, on both of them, but she didn't know how to fix it.
"I got careless." Jack snapped, looking physically sick, his eyes black pits. "The last time I got careless with someone I loved, they got shot!"
Sam recoiled as if he'd hit her, not sure how he'd gone from a slight overreaction on her part to his son dying. His face whitened and he turned and slammed his fist through the nearest wooden crate, letting out a yell as he did it again, this time with his foot, again and again with terrifying force until he'd reduced the thankfully empty thing to a wreck of splinters. Sam merely watched, wanting to intervene and stop him but not quite daring. He needed to vent; she owed him that at least. His words rang inside of her darkly. This wasn't a healthy line of thought for him, not ever. Not when Charlie was concerned.
When he'd stilled and was stood surrounded by the wreckage of the crate she approached him, cautiously, shrugging herself back into her top which had fallen off from their previous activity. She reached out to gently touch his back. Wondering how the hell it had gone so wrong so quickly. Surely this was about more than just her reaction?
"Jack honey." she said softly, surprised to hear tears in her voice. She raised her other hand quickly swiping them away. "Please. Just talk to me." she beseeched him.
"I screw up. Every time I have something good. I screw it up!" he bowed his head and she heard something like a sob tear from him. His shoulders shook and she hesitated; Jack O'Neill was crying. Sam couldn't bear it. She knew he'd hate her to acknowledge it but she couldn't just stand here and not comfort him. Her hands wrapped around his waist and she pressed her front to his back, holding him there.
"I love you. You're not screwing this up. I won't let you." she promised. He turned suddenly, wrapping his arms around her in a patented O'Neill hug; his nose buried in her neck as she stroked his head, holding him there and letting him regain his composure. "I love you." she whispered into his ear. His arms tightened a little, as if on reflex, then he was letting her go, swiping violently at his eyes and moving to their meagre belongings, shoving them into a bag hastily. Preparing to flee rather than talk about whatever was really bothering him.
"Jack, please don't do this! Just talk to me." she pleaded, real pain blooming in her chest as she stifled her own sob. She couldn't let him storm off like this. It was her fault.
"We should go back." he said sharply, "Lights out soon." Jack stood and shoved his pack over his shoulder. Then he just stood there staring at her, clearly uncomfortable. Sam closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. He didn't mean it, she knew that, but right now he was making her feel like he was punishing her for rejecting him. It must have been written all over her face because he was suddenly in front of her, lifting her chin.
"I say stupid shit when I'm upset." he replied. "I don't want to say something stupid right now. But this isn't your fault. I'm not trying to make you feel like it is I swear. I just, I can't be down here right now." he confessed.
"With me?" Sam ground out and he shot her a dark look.
"That's not it and you know it." he growled in warning at her clearly putting words in his mouth.
"Then why does it feel that way?" she pressed wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She should have known; it was all going too well. She'd been genuinely happy for the first time in what felt like months.
"Sam… I'm not perfect, alright. I'm a 54-year-old divorcee clearly having a mid-life crisis. I got a shit-tonne of baggage that literally drags me down sometimes. I just don't want it dragging you down too."
"Tough." she replied sharply. "Your crap is my crap. Or have you been out of a marriage so long you forgot that part!" she hurled at him and he winced.
"Alright, fine. I deserved that. You know what… I deserve more than that. I know you're angry, so go on, tell me what you really think." He waited, as if braced and Sam frowned. This wasn't what she wanted. Hell, she wasn't even that angry, just desperately confused and scared by her own reaction. She stalked forward, lifting her head up so that he was inches from her.
"I'm not angry."
His eyes fluttered shut for a minute and he took in a shaky breath. "You really should be." he replied finally.
"Why?" she asked, reaching up and brushing the longer hair off his forehead. She'd never seen his hair this long. It seemed to be growing quicker since the serum; coming in darker and fuller which only added to his youthful appearance.
"Talk to me, please. Just tell me what you're thinking. This is more than just our stuff. I know you. You've been wound up for weeks." she insisted, tension beginning to pool inside her.
Jack blew out an exasperated breath and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You really are too good for me, you know that?" He stepped away and threw his eyes up to the heavens for a moment, as if contemplating where to start. Sam watched with bated breath, certain she wasn't going to like where this was going but knowing something was there, festering beneath the surface – she needed to see it in the cold light of day if they were going to deal with it.
"Maxson came to see me after the demo." he admitted, his tone carefully neutral. Sam frowned, okay that maybe wasn't what she'd been expecting. "Wanted to congratulate me on that nifty bit of flying and the work I'd been doing. Confirm my squad request before he made it official with my promotion." he grimaced. "He wanted you out of the field in a bad way Sam. He thinks it's an unnecessary risk."
Sam rolled her eyes. "I know. I spoke to him about it and told him we were better as a team. He said he'd think about it… guess he didn't think very hard on it." Jack's eye twitched in response to that. "Please tell me you backed me up on that?" He ran his hand through his hair and suddenly she understood why he thought she should be damn well angry with him and the sudden disproportionate guilt, his almost distraction… he'd done something, said something to push this with Maxson!
Anger, the likes of which she hadn't felt in a long time, erupted and she fisted her hand, grateful for once she was unarmed as she seriously feared she might shoot him if he'd done what she thought he had. "Tell me you didn't. Tell me you didn't agree with him side-lining me!" she growled, feeling the rage blistering the words. Her emotions were all over the place and this, well this was like adding nitrous to an already volatile combination. His dark almost unrepentant expression, with the faintest flicker of guilt in his dark eyes, was enough to condemn him and she bought her hand up to her mouth for a moment to compose herself. How could he?! He knew what their mission was and it wasn't for her to sit around on her fucking ass up here! But he knew that. When she dared to look at him again, he had his chin out, waiting for her blow, almost daring her to challenge his decision on this, like it was his fucking right to.
"You're not my CO anymore Jack!" she snarled and his eye twitched at that; a sore point she thought no matter what he said because she knew that he, out of the two of them, struggled with being subordinate to anyone again. But more importantly, "You're my husband." she threw at him and he looked away then, finally ashamed and she chalked a win up in her column as she finally breached his armour.
"We agreed we'd discuss things like this. But instead, what?! The two of you got your heads together and decided you knew what the hell is best for me?" she accused, feeling her anger building even as she tried desperately to understand what was going on with him. Oh, she'd expected it from Maxson. Proctor Ingram had more than warned her about what would happen if she made herself 'too' valuable and after her demonstration today, despite what he'd said, she'd known she'd be on shaky ground. But she'd expected Jack to back her up, not throw her into the damn safety net. Now his earlier comment about Maxson questioning how he'd managed it as her 'former CO' made a lot more sense. They'd dragged Jack in to see how best to 'control' her. Like she was some problem to be managed!
"Yes… God damn it. YES!" Jack barked and for a moment there was ringing silence between them as his words fell heavily and the desperation and anger in them hit her. He did an angry little spin on the spot, his hands fisting.
"Yes I want you off the frontline Sam. Yes I want you out of the Wasteland especially after everything that's fucking happened to us down there and it's barely been a year!" he snapped. A fleeting expression of irritation flickered across his features that she didn't miss, as he tried to pull on a bit of false calm.
"Look." he sighed, sweeping a hand over his brow in clear agitation. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea, you know, to be valued… up here on this flying nuclear blimp. It's a pretty sweet ride. You've got all the tech you could dream of. Maybe we should think of it as a gift." Jack reasoned trying to smooth over the clear bomb he'd dropped on their little evening, perhaps even their relationship. Sam felt her frown sliding into a full-on glare. Annoyance and irritation swept over her at the alpha-male attitude that had reared its ugly head again. Their worst row out here had been about his insistence that she cover her damn face. She didn't want to admit he'd been right about that in the long run. Like she didn't want to admit that there was a certain appeal to what he was saying, if she was willing to accept that this was her life now… that there wasn't another option. Which she wasn't and he damn well knew that.
"Why the hell would you say that? You're still going to be on the frontline. Why the hell would I hide away up here when you're having to go out there and risk your life day after day?" she countered, feeling a genuine spike of fear at the thought of him out there without her.
"Because he made some pretty fucking sound points Sam." he replied sharply. "Like how its hell down there. Like how you're too valuable. Like how you're a target because of the way you look, your smarts and the god damn legend that's growing up around you since that damn Ghoul cure!" he hissed, striding towards her. "The Blonde Bombshell out of Vault 111 remember? That little mouthy shit painted a target on your back a mile wide!" Sam rocked back; that was the first time in a while that he'd mentioned her 'fame'. It had never bothered him before. No, he wasn't thrilled about the attention of the sudden Ghoul influx but he hadn't questioned her safety over it. Not until now. Sam wondered if this was more than just a reaction to what had happened to her. Maybe it was also a reaction to what had happened to him. He'd nearly died. Clearly that had taken its toll on his confidence out here. Perhaps he felt that their luck was running out.
"What else did Maxson say about this cure?" she probed, certain there was more to it than he was saying; picking up on the cues she'd come to know so well and wondering if needling Maxson the other day might not have been her wisest decision.
Jack gave her a dark look. "That damn cure." he looked away. "Maxson had a few things to say about that too. You know me, I'm good at playing dumb. Maybe I encouraged him to talk." He swept his thumb over his lips thoughtfully and stared across at her and for a moment she felt an aching chasm of distance opening up between them, so she inched forward.
"I'll admit I've heard some things up here," he intoned darkly, "Particularly from the flyboys and the troops down at the Airport. You've normally got your head buried in a machine but I listen and I can parrot a line or two back." Sam didn't think she was imagining the rebuke somewhere in there about her lack of awareness. Maybe he was right; she had never paid that much attention to the people around her. She'd never had to, Jack did it for the both of them. He was staring at her quietly now; something deep was brewing in him and she flinched slightly at that look. On the surface, Jack was a man that didn't seem to feel much of anything but that old saying 'still waters run deep', that was Jack all over. People always assumed she was the softer of the two of them, probably based largely on the fact that she was a woman, but really, he was the heart and soul, and definitely the more empathetic of the two of them.
He'd taken years to soften her edges; to get her to let the woman rather than the soldier out every now and again. Out here she wondered if some of her ice was starting to creep back over her, like the protective shell it had always been. She hadn't survived the loss of her mother, growing up with her father 'the General', an education where she was singled out and a career where she had always got twice as much to prove, by being the first one to break down.
"Just tell me." she sighed, "Even if you think it's going to piss me off or upset me. Please just tell me. Because this, right now, knowing there's something you're not saying, is pissing me off more."
"Sam, I get where you're coming from with the Brotherhood. I really do. But you gotta understand something. If you're looking for what's left of humanity up here… you're looking in the wrong damn place. Because I tell you now, what's left of humanity is down there in that cesspool on the ground." He pointed beneath their feet. "What's up here flying above it …" he helicoptered his finger to represent the blimp, "… that's what's left of the military and of the people that made the Vaults. The ones who launched the nukes and who wiped out the world." He looked grim as he delivered his scathing opinion.
Sam blinked. "You really think we've signed up with the bad guys?" she asked a little startled by that and the thought that he'd have let her do it if he really thought so ill of them. She was also a little thrown; he'd seemed to be enjoying himself up here. If that wasn't the case then she was surprised it had taken him almost two months to come to her with it. But then Jack wasn't impulsive. Not always anyway, not when it mattered. He liked to get the lay of the land, ask questions and poke his nose around; get his proof. Daniel had taught him better than anyone how to do that, after Black Ops had taught him where and how to look. Right now, he was being deliberately hard-headed and blinkered she thought, particularly when it came to her.
He shrugged. "It's the end of the damn world. There's no good guys and bad guys left. No black and white hats." he pointed out. "There's just the guys that want to keep on standing at any cost and the ones who are in the way." he sighed, seeming resigned.
Sam placed a hand on her hip and he clocked the movement as she glared soundly at him. "So that's it? After all these years doing what we did out there, even with those birds you pinned on my shoulders, you think I'm what?! Some sort of naïve fool?" she snapped. "You're not the only one that listens Jack but you might be the only one hearing what he wants to hear right now!" she bit back, feeling that he was being a sanctimonious prat.
"For example, when you were listening to that Brotherhood doctrine, did you once notice how often Maxson has broken it?" she paused to let him take that in. "Or how his directives directly countermand some of the Brotherhood's core beliefs?" she added, "Because it surely couldn't have escaped your notice that he has held something of a recruitment drive and I'm not just talking about us. He's welcomed a lot of soldiers up here, Danse included. Brotherhood are born, isn't that what Ronnie told us? Looks like she was wrong on that." she pointed out with satisfaction, seeing the twist of his lips as he took that in, like a bad taste. "The Brotherhood is an ideal, not a bloodline. That's on page one of Maxson's personal manifesto. Or did you skip that class up here Jack?" she prodded.
He tightened his jaw and glared at her, looking far from impressed. "Let me guess. This is where you tell me he's a stand-up guy?" he snorted. "And of course your new best friend Ingram's been telling you all about her hero right? Hardly an unbiased point of view there."
"Oh and Shaw was?" Sam retorted, not appreciating him thinking her so easily swayed. "I'm perfectly capable of making up my own damn mind. Granted, him going back on his word to me doesn't exactly do him any favours right now but then I'm certain you were motivated in your little chat, and we both know how charming you can be when it suits you." She put the blame for that squarely on his shoulders, still smarting from it more so than anything else.
Jack raised his hand palms up, warding her off slightly. "Say what you want about me but I'm doing what I'm doing for you. Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me that you trust this guy?" he challenged. She didn't answer and his eyebrows went up, demanding an answer.
Sam shrugged, "As much as anyone out here. But at least he's up front about it. His beliefs, his goals are right there on the page for everyone to see. He's not hiding." she responded coolly. "I know where he stands which is more than I can say for some people!" she snapped back sharply, feeling a little shook-up by how much of a left turn this evening had taken and the obvious unease he'd been hiding, not to mention the sudden abrupt shot of adrenalin she'd felt when her arousal had been snuffed out so sharply. To say she was reeling would have been an understatement. She stared back at the man that was supposed to steady her, only to find a chasm between them.
"You've really been drinking the Kool-Aid up here haven't you?!" he tossed at her and she felt the blow solidly, as she rolled her eyes at the childishness, throwing her hands up in the air in annoyance her anger building into a white-hot rage, replacing the gnawing pit in her gut with bile. Oh that part of her husband she knew all too well. Things got too serious, he retreated behind it.
"Don't be a child." she chastised hitting him where she knew it hurt and watched with some measure of satisfaction as the amusement slid off his face so she continued to hammer home her point. If he wanted to distract from their personal issues with a bloody row about the Brotherhood she'd oblige.
"Just look at his people Jack. They follow him, not some damn code. They believe in him. He's stood there on the frontlines and earned his position, and now he's trying to change things for the better. The blanket ban the Brotherhood had on new technology; he's rescinded it. He's working to improve technology, just not for technologies sake. To use it as intended, as a tool not a crutch." she bit out. "He's investing time and resources into improving medicines and RadAway. Or did you skip Scribe Neriah's little zoo tour too?" she probed, wondering if he was just being pig headed about this or if he really was worried. His expression seemed to fall into resignation at her impassioned defence. Perhaps he'd really thought she'd gone into this blind and blinkered by her drive to get them home. If so then he had done her a serious disservice. Maybe he was right, she should be damn well mad at him!
"Sam, I just don't want you to put your faith in something that's going to let you down. Because whatever we've done out here or become to survive, you're not an 'at any cost' kind of person. Not if that 'cost' is the rest of the damn Commonwealth… or what's left of humanity." he reminded her. Sam felt herself deflate; at least he wasn't accusing her of going native just yet. Just of being naïve which was almost worse. She thought he'd respected her opinion more than that.
"It won't come to that Jack." she replied quietly, feeling her hands tremble slightly. It couldn't, surely not. She thought she had a better read on Maxson, Danse and Ingram than that.
"Well, that's why we're here isn't it?… to keep an eye on things." His smile was thin and pained, she felt the falseness of it. She'd seen that look on his face once before. Back when he'd lied to her; when he'd been working an angle to get them to believe he'd gone rogue for the NID. She stepped up to him and reached up cupping his cheek. Jack lying to her or withholding his opinion was a new and unpleasant experience. Perhaps he hadn't followed her here blindly after all; swept up in her excitement to pitch her tent with the most technically advanced group. He'd had his own agenda, his own plans; to calmly and methodically evaluate this new threat that had cast its Shadow of Steel over the Wasteland below, up close and personal. Apparently, you could take the man out of Black Ops but not Black Ops out of the man. And here she thought she'd learnt her lesson with Jonas.
"You're here for the Minutemen." she realised quietly and he bowed his head, looking thoroughly uneasy. "I mean, I know you're here for me, for us, but you're also here for them, aren't you?" she clarified knowing that his split loyalties were the real problem. If it came right down to it, she was certain he'd put her first, they both would, but the question was: would he put her goal first? – to get them home.
"Yeah, I guess I am in part." he confessed grimacing and she felt her eyes widen. "Sam don't look at me like that. It's not some sort of official mission. I just get this feeling alright." he sighed, and suddenly it was her that was trying to pull away while he was the one slipping his arms around her waist to keep her there.
"Wait… don't." he stumbled over a suitable explanation for that last comment, "Look, I talked to Shaw that last day we were at the Castle when we said our goodbyes." he explained, "She had some things to show me about the Brotherhood that, well, frankly didn't sit too well. All that talk of purifying the Wasteland. Today its Super Mutants and Ghouls. All ex-people by the way." He pointed out. "Tomorrow who knows?… maybe it'll be the people on the surface whose blood isn't quite as clean as ours, whose DNA doesn't stack up or whose skin's a different colour." He was making a point and she felt her stomach turn slightly at the idea. He'd touched on it before but perhaps all their recent 'lessons' and indoctrination had made it a little more prescient.
"Or those who just don't want to agree with everything the Brotherhood is selling." he finished, giving her a look that said, 'please don't make me point out the god damn obvious again'.
Sam flinched. Oh she knew that party line well enough. She just didn't believe the Brotherhood would go that far. Not to its unpleasant conclusion. "They're not complete fascists Jack." she snapped, irritated that he'd take the extreme angle of their rhetoric to try and hang them all with it. "They're realists. With zero sense of humour and a healthy fear of tech in other people's hands. Given what happened here on this planet I can't say they're entirely wrong!" she countered, realising that perhaps their thoughts on this weren't as in sync as she'd imagined.
He looked away. "It's how it starts. That's the problem Sam, we've seen it before. This world's barely hanging on by its fingertips as it is. It doesn't need another shockwave to blast it all apart."
Anger flashed inside of her and she tried to temper it down. She couldn't invite him to talk to her and then cut him down for trying. They'd not always seen things eye to eye before but she hadn't expected this nihilistic pessimism from him either. Ronnie must have really gotten into his head; she'd have to have words with the good Captain for that. "You're projecting things that happened in our world onto them." she challenged.
"Fine. I'll concede I don't know the man. But until I do, I'm just suggesting maybe we don't go unveiling the giant honking space guns for him!" he snapped at her, clearly exasperated. She felt like a child being admonished for accepting cookies from a stranger.
"Oh but it was okay for me to unveil them for the Minutemen?" she quirked an eyebrow at him, calling him on his damn hypocrisy. "Or did it slip your mind that so far, I've not given Maxson and the Brotherhood anything other than defensive technology. Technology that's necessary because I did arm the Minutemen. I gave them mortars, rocket launchers, enhanced Fat-man yields. I made them a threat." she pointed at him sharply. "And you didn't have a God damn problem with that!" she finished, her point well and truly made.
"That's different and you know it." he snarled.
Sam smiled thinly at him. "Why? Because they followed you and your code. Or did you forget that we recruited from the Gunners, the farmers, the mercenaries? Not everyone was an upstanding member of society."
He got very stiff, his eyes blazing, but he didn't have a comeback for that and nodded sharply. "Okay. You got me on that one. But the Minutemen aren't the Brotherhood… they're all creeds and codes. But these guys have the real chance of going full on slash and burn here."
"You're right. You don't know Maxson." Sam replied firmly, refusing to listen to this anymore. So far Maxson had done nothing to harm them; if anything, he'd embraced them. "And I'm starting to think you've forgotten why we need to be up here. Unless you have a better idea of how to locate the Institute without these suits."
"Oh yes, the fabled Institute." he huffed, "Talk about frying pan, fire." he muttered shaking his head at her. "In case you've forgotten Sam, if there is one thing the Brotherhood, the Minutemen and just about the entire Wasteland agrees on, it's that the Institute really are the bad guys!" He crossed his arms, "They're making people disappear, babies… killing entire Vaults. Spreading damn Synths everywhere." he reminded her sharply. She thought back to Diamond City, to the missing person fliers and the feeling of eyes, to the despair and hopelessness in each picture.
"You might want to find them, use their tech or whatever you think we can get out of them. But what if they decide you're a risk or hell, a threat?!" he exclaimed and Sam saw fear there, for her. "Maxson… he says they're fucking everywhere. Everywhere Sam. I might not trust the guy but I don't think he's wrong about that." he insisted and she didn't doubt that he believed that. My God what had Maxson said to him?
"You're both being paranoid. Looking for monsters in the dark and seeing them!" she argued back. "It's as bad as Marcie seeing Synths everywhere she looked, even in me." Sam reminded him, still feeling the sting of being compared to something like that, like Fifth. Perhaps she really was growing cold if they thought she was that inhuman; enough for that stupid idea to keep following her.
"Paranoid huh?" he growled. He shoved his hand into his pocket and retrieved something, gripping her wrist and pressing it into hers with intent. "I got that out of a damn raven that was up on the Forecastle, watching us. Took it right out of its skull after I shot it point blank. Don't ask me how I knew but that damn raven was there that first night we went out there and it was there every night after. Watching. Same damn raven. Only it didn't move like a raven." he explained, sounding more ominous than she'd ever heard him. She shook her head. It couldn't be, could it?
"I mean just ask yourself… how the hell has a raven survived intact, looking just like always, when every other animal is mutated in some way?" Jack questioned her, pointing out the obvious that had been staring her in the face. The ravens. Sam opened her hand and looked down at what was clearly some sort of circuitry, a chip. She felt her blood run cold. "They're watching Sam." he told her uneasily, his jaw tensing as he fought with whatever he needed to say.
"And I reckon they've been watching us since we got here." He dropped his chin, his arms tightening over his chest as he stepped back, defensive. "I saw them, even before I realised what I was seeing. They were there in Sanctuary, up on the rooftops… in Diamond City, at the Castle, on the road, clustered at Parsons, at the Police Station. Always fucking ravens!" he told her, the unease in his tone making her feel slightly sick. She fisted her hand around the small device.
"The ravens are Synths." she acknowledged, her stomach sinking. "The eyes and ears of the Institute throughout the Commonwealth." She shuddered, "My God… maybe Maxson isn't paranoid enough. He's looking for human infiltrators." She looked up suddenly, the thought occurring, "Was this what you told him to have me grounded?"
Jack huffed. "Oh, I didn't tell him diddly squat about this." Sam opened her mouth to argue and he held up his finger. "Ah, ah, ah. You don't get it Sam. You gave the guy a cure for Ghoulism… or a potential one at least… and do you know what that asshole is doing with it?" he leant in, "He's using it to screen his own damn army. Looking for people whose blood might predispose them to a little case of skin melting. Only I don't think it's to cure them." he growled. Sam leant back away from him to take in his dark eyes, horrified by the implication. Somehow they'd swung back around to Maxson again.
Sam considered what he'd said and felt the need to ride to Maxson's defence on that one. No matter how horrified she was by the thought that he might corrupt the 'gift' she'd given, she didn't think it was for the reasons Jack was suggesting.
"So you think Maxson and the Brotherhood are exactly the type that would think that someone who had Ghoul markers might be deemed unfit to serve… unfit to live even?" 'Ghoul's like Edward' her brain hatefully supplied and she tried to stomp down on the thought ruthlessly. It didn't help her point and only made her angrier, though a darker part of her wondered if maybe there wasn't a grain of truth in there. Oh not consciously, but subconsciously, had she suspected? Jack might have dug around about the Brotherhood before he came here but so had she. Had she honestly believed the Brotherhood would be interested in curing Ghouls? Hell, it had been the devil to get them to pay fair price for the food supplies and the conveys she and Jack had set up with the Minutemen when they first got here; to ensure that they didn't just force the farmers to hand over their hard-earned crops from the moment they had arrived. A little show of force to get the locals in line hadn't sat well with either of them and Jack had made his point widely and loudly known. Maxson, to his credit, hadn't been pleased to find out that Proctor Teagen, the Quartermaster, had been pushing the 'might is right' mentality at the Knights he was sending down to acquire supplies. Sam knew Jack hadn't managed to get a civil word out of Teagan since but it seems Jack was turning a blind eye to Maxson's intervention there as well.
"Let me ask you a question Jack. What do you think the SGC and the Pentagon would have done if they found out that a soldier had been exposed to something that had a very real chance of randomly triggering them to turn into something feral?" she paused a moment to let that logic sink in. "Because let's be clear here, the number of Ghouls walking around fully in control of their faculties pales in comparison to the ones that go nuts. It's just bad luck." she reminded him, knowing he would have felt the shudder at the memory of the forest as well as she did and the inhuman horrors they'd run from there.
"Do you really think our Government would let them continue to serve on the front-line? Or serve at all? Or do you think they'd escort them to a laboratory somewhere to be poked and prodded for the rest of their natural lives?" she threw at him. "Or did you forget what our own people tried to do to Teal'c… and me?" she reminded him, distinctly remembering the feel of terror as doctor's held a needle filled with her death inches from her neck and watching Teal'c being frog marched out in a biohazard suit and chains for the crime of just having encountered the Goa'uld parasites.
Jack was breathing sharply, his anger matching hers as they went back and forth like this. "I can't say I was particularly fond of that part of our Government either. And I sure as shit didn't trust them all." Jack countered.
"But you still served. Wore the stars and stripes and defended that Government. Those people ..." Sam pointed out the obvious. "… played their games, General."
"Can't say I'm all that proud of that either." Jack bit back. "I'm older and wiser now. I'd like to think I've grown perspective and the balls to quit when assholes ask me to do something downright wrong."
They were getting diverted she realised. They could go around forever like this. "How long have you known Maxson was screening people?" she asked with quiet firmness, wanting to know how long he'd been keeping information from her; hoarding it to strengthen his 'Brotherhood is bad' argument and winding himself up before he let loose at her.
Jack's lips twisted. "Since he announced it to me like we were the best of buddies. I'd say he was testing my loyalty but he wasn't. My mask has been poked and prodded by better than him. He just honestly thinks that's why you bought him the damn thing. To help him reveal the evil in his midst."
A dark thought occurred to her as she stared up at Jack's grim features. "So is that why you said it? Why you had me grounded up here, locking me away like a Princess in the tower. To get in with him. To gain his trust while you threw me and our way home under the bus? I clearly forgot just how comfortable you've gotten out here Jack." The accusation rung out between them; both his eyebrows went up as he rocked back slightly on his heels, clearly shocked she thought so little of him and that she'd actually voice it. She regretted it the minute it was out of her mouth but she couldn't deny feeling a twinge of doubt as to his motivations. Jack wanted her safe yes, but did he want it enough to be at the expense of even trying to find their way home? They'd both said things in anger now, just like he said they would. Maybe in hindsight she should have let him storm off she realised with an exasperated sigh, dropping her forehead into her hand.
"Wow." he managed. "You are a brilliant woman Sam but sometimes you say the stupidest damn things." he got out with real bitterness there, shaking his head at her.
"Well I guess we're a matched set on that one then aren't we?" she snapped waspishly.
He stepped back and Sam sighed, regretting that it resulted in a muck slinging row. She reached for him but his hand went up evading her touch and she frowned. Making this argument personal wasn't going to help but she bit down on the impulse to apologise. She honestly felt that he needed to be the first to take that leap. After all, he'd accused her of several unpleasant things now and had, whatever his reasons, most likely got her grounded.
"You know what Sam… no I'm not happy." he told her pointedly letting her read what she wanted into that and drawing them back to the damn question she'd asked at the start of their night. She felt tears threaten and she let her anger swallow them once more, not giving in to it.
"Well I guess neither of us are." she replied quietly. "Lovely as this evening was …" she added with heavy sarcasm, "… this row isn't getting us anywhere. And despite what you might think, I don't particularly want to stand here all night defending the damn Brotherhood or myself. But I will say this because I think your being damn pig headed! ..." she swore at him her finger pointed. "… The Brotherhood might not be here to build communities and farms but in their minds they're here to protect what's left of the Wasteland and the people in it. To protect humanity from its own ruin. Whatever way you look at it, everyone is out here for one thing. Survival. That's not always pretty." she tried to reason with him. "And it's not our place to say who's right and wrong."
"Says the woman deciding she has the moral high ground." he replied blankly and she bristled. Jack had always liked calling people on their bullshit and she didn't like him pointing that particular talent her way.
"Fine. Here's my moral high ground, you sanctimonious asshole. We're up here for the same damn reason as everyone else. Because they have something we need!" she snapped and Jack sighed, rubbing his temples as though he was getting a tension headache; she could relate.
"We might not like it but everyone left out here is out for themselves. Twisting things into new more useful shapes." she reminded him of what she was certain he already knew. "Isn't that why you made the Minutemen useful to the Brotherhood? It was you that suggested that little mortar test and cutting the Brotherhood into the supply-chain. Presenting them as allies not enemies, right?" she reasoned, wondering just how many games and schemes Jack had going on at any one time as she started to unravel this one. His tactical mind and all the planning he seemed to do; finally she was seeing Jack O'Neill the Special Ops soldier. The man with the plans A, B and C. He didn't correct her. They were twisting too she realised uneasily, into new and more useful shapes. The Wasteland making survivors of them as well. Jack didn't respond. She started to walk away to go cool off, or something.
"Fine… fine all valid points, but that doesn't mean I have to like them and I definitely don't have to like what this place is doing to you. Or to me!" he called after her as she walked away, certain if she stayed any longer they might actually say something unforgiveable. Sam stopped at his words, the hollowness in them, and wondered how the evening could have started so well when all of this had been bubbling beneath the surface. She was still rightly furious about him going behind her back with Maxson. She hadn't forgotten that, nor was she likely too.
"You say it like we have a choice." Sam turned back to face him crossing her arms. "You know the Minutemen weren't perfect when you found them. But you had faith. You gave them hope and showed them a better way to be. Why can't you offer these people the same? Up here you only have to change the heart and mind of one man. The rest would fall into line." she pointed out, genuinely wanting to know what had made the Minutemen so much worthier of his time and loyalty. Everything the Minutemen had built was because of Jack; even their goals and ideals were his. Without him, could they even survive? But the Brotherhood, Sam was starting to suspect, might honestly be humanities last best hope out here – they were certainly hers right now.
"I guess that Jack O'Neill was an optimist." he shrugged. "But he died on that rooftop." He patted his chest, right over his scar. "I only believe in one thing anymore. Me and you." he confirmed and she inhaled sharply, feeling the power in that statement; the intensity burning in his eyes as he willed her to believe it too. It was frankly alarming for him to place all his faith in her and in them like that, particularly if he thought she was being taken in the way she was.
"So you tell me black is white, up is down, I'll believe it. Tell me the Brotherhood is where we need to be and I'm right there beside you." he promised. "But I won't ever stop doing what I do. Making sure I've got all the angles covered." he warned. "Because one day Sam, Maxson's going to realise we don't have any loyalty to him or his cause and on that day we might just need our friends."
END NOTES:
Bit of a feeling feelings Chapter this – very word salad.
I've found it particularly interesting having to write Sam and Jack as back to being subordinates and not in complete control of their own destinies with the Brotherhood. Which is why I felt it was so important to seed the idea that Jack isn't exactly marching to the beat of anyone's drum but his own here, which I think is very in character for him. Even as we see Sam embracing having someone else give her orders and being a part of something bigger again. Both I think fit their characters.
The friction that we see here, I know some of you won't like (or you will – I mean who doesn't like angst), but there's a lot going on and Sam and Jack are both very strong personalities, with quite different moralities, goals in life and experiences. I can see them rubbing up against each other as often as they get along. These factions are going to be one way of continually exploring the different facets of their personalities and ambitions. Sam is very tunnel visioned at the moment and a little naive in her actions still (I've always liked that facet of her character). She still looks for the best in people. Jack, he sees things, and he knows from bitter experience that sometimes it doesn't go how you want and you can't just change how people are. He's being a realist in all of this. In his heart I don't think he thinks they will ever get home. Sam won't believe that, not ever. But what I will say is that they're both afraid now. Afraid of losing each other, and that's making them both act a little recklessly.