FOUR


"What do I need to do, Carter?"

Jack watched her pace the length of the room. He felt helpless and mindful. Knew and misunderstood. Sensed and analysed. Anticipated and excluded.

"I have been patient."

That remark earned him a dangerous glare. He reconsidered.

"Okay, so I've screwed up."

She stopped, barely giving him her attention.

"That big." His hands gestured and widened beyond a metre, then eased down a tad. "Perhaps bigger." Her frown made him squint. "Much, much bigger."

Her lips curled up slightly.

Good, headway, but his patience faded nevertheless.

"For crying out loud." He gazed to her as she looked away. "Wrong choice of words. You're not making this easy, you know. You gotta meet me halfway or some way or maybe just a little."

The relapse in confidence came when she turned and exited the room without indicating if she'd accepted his apology. He felt slighted, sure, but still deserving of the cold shoulder.

They had decided, or maybe he had decided, the line no longer mattered. He'd transferred east. She had transferred west. And however crazy it looked, it meant they could be together. Still, a piece didn't fit.

Absence – a void, a gap, a space not occupied.

Absence made the heart grow fonder, it just made him miserable, and the key to solving the problem evaded him painstakingly.

Bits and pieces. Coulds and could nots. Possibilities and failures. Submit or let go.

He was offering her everything they wanted, and yet they couldn't bridge the gap. They couldn't cross it. They couldn't work it through. They stood on opposite sides, calling out to each other, and one thing kept them apart. The moment they reached the deepest part of their relationship, they were subject to hurt and pain and rejection.

He only wanted them to open up and feel again, like they used to three years into their working relationship. More importantly, he wanted to stop fighting. He desired for her to stop fighting. 'Cause they needed each other to heal. They needed to just surrender and let the chips fall wherever they wished.

Sunlight glimmered beyond his line of sight.

Jack turned towards it and narrowed his eyes, but found no joy or recognition in such a magnificent sunrise, merely an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. And after weeks of brooding, the change in scenery no longer held much of an appeal. It made him tired and exhausted. But then again, it also forced him to acknowledge a vital component – he wanted them to be together on a more permanent basis. He couldn't go through another five years of tip-toeing around the subject of being in love and not having her by his side every waking hour. He dreaded the notion of ending up back where they started. Back at the beginning of their friendship. Back to where she was Captain Carter, and he, Colonel O'Neill.

He shuddered at the prospect.

As the glare from the sun subsided, he could hear the stream flowing nearby. Though out of sight, he still imagined its crystal blue appearance and its refreshing sound when he'd first visited. It had reminded him of a simpler time, when things weren't as complicated. But then her blue eyes saw him. She saw him, the real him, and even after all his harsh decisions and miscalculations, she stayed by his side. A trademark which showed her strength and authority, astounding him each time.

Looking back on SG1's missions, she'd given them hope and a sense of invincibility. During that time, he saw Carter the soldier and astrophysicist, but in this moment, he saw only her.

He could see her, and there was so much more to what he had discovered over the years, that it brought him close to overstepping. Each time, he pulled away, leaving no margin for feeling or emotion. In spite of it, they kept finding their way back to one another. Like a magnet, she drew him. Like a flame to a moth, he succumbed. He needed that flame. He needed her light. It was crystal clear, it always was, that relying upon someone as much as he had upon Sam, scared him terribly.

Jack glimpsed the door.

Coming here, already proved he'd waded into the deep end. He couldn't walk away. He'd made his decision, but implementing it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. Even though he knew, even though he understood and even if he had the answer. Slowly fading away seemed easy enough. Didn't it? Then he would miss the opportunity of living a good life with her.

He couldn't deny it. He didn't want to deny it. Not anymore. But what was best for Sam?

Their lives together as a team told the real story. What he dedicated his life to and what that amounted to in the aftermath, and even still, he trusted her to the fullest extent. And having this in mind, he always believed he did what was best for her. He did what was best for him, too.

What was he missing, then? Is that she is what he missed in his life. And what is best for her . . . was him.

The revelation led him towards the door without thought, and within minutes, he navigated the various corridors in search of her.

This was the scenario he had hoped would yield results. He wondered if he would get it right this time round, if she would react the way he thought she would.

It needed to work, it simply had to work, but what would he say after he found her?

A barrier stopped him dead in his tracks, forcing him to turn and look for a different way around. Finding it, his speed increased, but another barrier slammed down in front of him. He cursed under his breathe, knowing it wouldn't be straightforward.

The harder he tried the more barriers stopped the effort.

The more desperate he became the harder it was to keep track.

This maze wouldn't allow him to escape. That when he finally found his footing, her footing wavered.

Was it a preventive measure? Preventing him from doing what exactly?

Stalling tactic? And he was doing so well. At least he thought he was.

Coping mechanism? For crying out loud, what coping mechanism? Okay, so maybe he lacked patience and lacked listening skills. So maybe he'd learned to cope using humour. Life's too short. There, that's coping, right? Who doesn't?

When the last barrier kept him away from the exit, he slammed his fist against it, shaking his hand once the gruelling pain surfaced. Breathing exasperated, he frowned at the barrier behind him, then at the one in front of him, concluding that he was trapped, like a frantic bird. Ensnared and definitely not in the mood.

The last time he felt this trapped was when Carter announced her engagement. Like a gentleman, he'd accepted the crestfallen emotion and nudged her forward. But then later on, Carrie Johnson offered him a way out, suggesting he retire. It was Carter who actually gave him the permission by finally accepting the invitation to go fishing. And boy did he adore her for that.

He felt deeply, yes. Strongly, of course, and yet currently the final step eluded him. He only wanted to see her. Then, what was the problem?

"You know, I'm a man of few words. Haven't thought this much in years. And then when I do . . . think, when I finally admit . . ."

Shit, what was he missing? He'd come to the right conclusion; then why didn't it allow him to go free? Screw the fact that he hadn't listen the first time. It shouldn't be this complex. He's never been complex; then why should this trial be?

Exhaustion overwhelmed him again, pushing him down to his rump. With arms atop his knees and hands upon his head, the weight refused to subside. And along with it, came an immense compulsion to cry out, simply to make sense of it all.

What else did it require of him? He only wanted to find her, he had to, ardently, but he couldn't carry this pressure alone anymore.

Being alone, being without her . . . no, he shouldn't be thinking this way.

He'd set this into motion for a reason, and somehow, he couldn't find the damn door.

Leaning his head against the wall, he stared at the ceiling.

His chest felt like exploding. His emotions threw him for a loop. Fatigue threatened. Growling frustrated failed to calm him down. And sinking his palms into his eyes merely fuelled the annoyance.

Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't they been kept apart long enough?

"Whoever's watching this miserable, miserable display of torment, I very much hate this damn trial. Get me the hell outta here!"