Times Like These
YIPEEE!!!! Made it to 5!!! I'm back! Thought I'd post 4 and 5 together. In this chapter, we get a bit more of O'Neill's P.O.V, as well as Sam's. Thanx to Danni, Nicki, Gater101 and Pamela, who all keep me writing. BTW, it pains me to say, but I don't own Stargate Sg1. That lovely job goes to MGM, Michael Greenburg, and a lot of other lucky people. No more talk, here's the next chap.
Chapter 5
Sam stumbled through the trees, as branches and twigs lashed at her thin frame, scratching her face and hands, and tearing at her uniform. But the freezing cold conditions had numbed her body, and the pain did not register. The mist had made visibility so poor, that she could barely see her hand in front of her face, and midnight was fast approaching. As she continued to push her way through the undergrowth, all rational thoughts fled. Rage burned within her, consuming any sensible voices of reason that tried to guide her.
Going against every piece of survival training she had ever been taught, Sam strayed further from camp, with no equipment, compass, or any way to find her way back.
Carter's eyes were glassy from the tears streaked her cheeks. She wiped the tiny drops away angrily, not willing to show any weakness.
The only thing Sam wanted at that moment was to be as far as possible from the rest of SG1. *They're just too much, I can't take any more!* Her head was spinning wildly, making her feel dizzy and disorientated. Meanwhile her feet carried her further and further from safety.
***
Jack O'Neill was torn. Torn between two choices. In one hand, he had his 2IC. Samantha Carter, *his* Sam. In the other, he had the safety of the rest of his team, men which he would do anything to protect.
It had been been almost 4 hours since the major had stormed off, and the team was fast losing hope that she would find her way back. To make the situation even worse, she had no supplies or equipment with her, and no way to find them. Also, the everpresent rain would make tracking more difficult, washing away tracks and clues to Carter's whereabouts. It did not look good. The colonel had ordered that they pack up camp, and be ready to begin searching when dawn broke in a few hours. Daniel contacted Hammond to inform him of the team's plan, before assisting Teal'c and O'Neill in packing up their heavy, waterlogged gear. This was no easy feat, especially with Carter's tent and pack to add to their own equipment.
Jack was first packed, and proceded on to Carter's tent. He felt like a spy, when looking inside her tent. There was something very wrong about going through her stuff like that. The tent was immaculately clean and neat, in typical Carter fashion. The first thing the colonel noticed was the still-lingering scent of her perfume, which sent a wave of emotions over him; guilt at their quarrel, and the pure longing for her presence. A pair of pale pink pyjamas were folded crispy at the base of the sleeping bag. O'Neill allowed himself a grin before placing them carefully in her pack, keeping his eyes discreetly averted away from the major's underwear. Next came the sleeping bag and pillow. He rolled the standard issue sleeping bag, and wrestled it into its tiny cover. Placing that on top of the pyjamas, he added the pillow to the pack and took a final glance around to make sure he'd gathered everything. A small square-shaped scrap in the far corner of the tent caught his eye. Crawling over, he reached for it, and turned it over. His heart clenched inside his chest. It was a photograph of a pretty young girl, waving at the camera. On one side of her sat a man with dark hair, his arm around her. On the other sat a woman, with shoulder length, blonde hair, smiling the same smile O'Neill saw every day. Even then the resemblance between mother and daughter was striking. Slowly, Jack turned over the photo. Written on the back, in neat print, was a short sentence. *Little Sammy, her mother and I.* Very gently, the colonel placed the worn photo in his pocket. He then made a silent vow to himself. He would return that photo to Sam, no matter what.
***
The first rays of dawn began to creep through the trees as Carter finally collapsed under an elm tree. Unfamiliar surroundings confused her battered mind, as she crawled further under the shelter. Hours of walking had combined with fatigue and exhaustion, and the soaking wet, freezing material of her fatigues. She shivered violently, and brought her knees up to her chest for warmth. Rocking slightly to keep the blood flowing to her exhausted legs, the full realization of the stupidness of her actions hit her like a freight train. She was lost, with no way to contact the team, and had no food or water to sustain herself. Cursing her temper bitterly, Sam searched for the actual reason she had left the camp. She groaned inwardly as she found the answer. Colonel O'Neill. He had come out, demanding a reason for why she had not called him to relieve her of sentry, and had tried to point out that she wasn't being very intelligent sitting out in the cold, trying to act tough. Much as she hated to admit, he did have a point. She had been stupid, and had let her pig-headed pride make the desicions. But it was the *way* he had reacted to her; snapping, and telling her he "thought she knew better that that". Apart from angering her, it had weakened her, and added to her fears over what he thought of her. But, no matter his opinion on her capibility, Carter knew she had hurt him deeply with her biting parting remarks. The flash of pain deep in his brown eyes was proof enough. She pledged to herself, that she would apologise to him the next time they saw each other. That was all she could do to ease her guilt over the matter. *Next time...* Her vision began to cloud as she was pulled towards unconcsiousness. As she gazed up through the canopy of the majestic tree she lay under, her final thoughts played like a record through her mind. *Next time...* *Next time...* Her eyes slowly closed as she succumbed to the darkness.
***
O'Neill's body ached from worry and weariness. They had been searching for a little over two hours, without finding a trace of the major. They were fast running out of time before they would have to return to the 'Gate. Before leaving their camp site, the three remaining SG1 members had agreed to take seperate routes. O'Neill took the east route, Daniel the south, and Teal'c the west. Due north was the Stargate, so if Carter had not yet been located by the time they needed to return, they could search on the way back. As the colonel struggled through the dense scrub, he thought about Carter and the photograph. *It must be one of the only ones she has of her mother,* he realized. That made it even more precious. He knew how it felt to have someone missing in your life, and could understand why the major would carry the photo. Away in his thoughts, he misjudged the height of a log on his path, and went flying. He landed sprawled on his rear. Cursing colourfully, he attempted to pull himself up from the damp ground. Suddenly a crackle from his radio distracted him. Jack? Jack, do you read? O'Neill scrambled to his feet. "Yup Daniel," he replied. Jack, I think we've got something. The colonel's heart leapt. "Ok Danny, where are you?"
***
Daniel wasted no time with greetings when Jack came crashing through the scrub, simply pointing to a small scrap of the unmistakable camouflague secured to a low-lying branch. "We found that first," the doctor explained, "Then, we scouted around a bit for any other signs, and we found this." He walked a few paces to the right, and poined to distinct boot-print, set in the damp muddy ground. "We're on the right track then." O'Neill stated, before turning in the direction of the print. "She can't be far, keep looking." He led the way through the thick, treacherous foliage, being careful to keep watching for any other signs of the major's path.
Twenty minutes later, Jack caught a flash of gold through the trees. Calling to the other two, he raced through the scub, careless of the branches scratching and tearing at his face. Finally he reached the tree under which Carter lay.
She looked so peaceful, so serene, but for her blue-tinged lips, and dishevelled clothing. He knelt beside her, lifting her torso to his chest, alarmed at how wet her clothing was, and how cold and clammy her hands were in his. As he held her to him, she felt like lifeless doll in his arms.
***
A/N - Well, there's a little cliffhanger for ya (not a very good one, I know) Thanks for reading this so far, and there's more to come soon! StarKate
YIPEEE!!!! Made it to 5!!! I'm back! Thought I'd post 4 and 5 together. In this chapter, we get a bit more of O'Neill's P.O.V, as well as Sam's. Thanx to Danni, Nicki, Gater101 and Pamela, who all keep me writing. BTW, it pains me to say, but I don't own Stargate Sg1. That lovely job goes to MGM, Michael Greenburg, and a lot of other lucky people. No more talk, here's the next chap.
Chapter 5
Sam stumbled through the trees, as branches and twigs lashed at her thin frame, scratching her face and hands, and tearing at her uniform. But the freezing cold conditions had numbed her body, and the pain did not register. The mist had made visibility so poor, that she could barely see her hand in front of her face, and midnight was fast approaching. As she continued to push her way through the undergrowth, all rational thoughts fled. Rage burned within her, consuming any sensible voices of reason that tried to guide her.
Going against every piece of survival training she had ever been taught, Sam strayed further from camp, with no equipment, compass, or any way to find her way back.
Carter's eyes were glassy from the tears streaked her cheeks. She wiped the tiny drops away angrily, not willing to show any weakness.
The only thing Sam wanted at that moment was to be as far as possible from the rest of SG1. *They're just too much, I can't take any more!* Her head was spinning wildly, making her feel dizzy and disorientated. Meanwhile her feet carried her further and further from safety.
***
Jack O'Neill was torn. Torn between two choices. In one hand, he had his 2IC. Samantha Carter, *his* Sam. In the other, he had the safety of the rest of his team, men which he would do anything to protect.
It had been been almost 4 hours since the major had stormed off, and the team was fast losing hope that she would find her way back. To make the situation even worse, she had no supplies or equipment with her, and no way to find them. Also, the everpresent rain would make tracking more difficult, washing away tracks and clues to Carter's whereabouts. It did not look good. The colonel had ordered that they pack up camp, and be ready to begin searching when dawn broke in a few hours. Daniel contacted Hammond to inform him of the team's plan, before assisting Teal'c and O'Neill in packing up their heavy, waterlogged gear. This was no easy feat, especially with Carter's tent and pack to add to their own equipment.
Jack was first packed, and proceded on to Carter's tent. He felt like a spy, when looking inside her tent. There was something very wrong about going through her stuff like that. The tent was immaculately clean and neat, in typical Carter fashion. The first thing the colonel noticed was the still-lingering scent of her perfume, which sent a wave of emotions over him; guilt at their quarrel, and the pure longing for her presence. A pair of pale pink pyjamas were folded crispy at the base of the sleeping bag. O'Neill allowed himself a grin before placing them carefully in her pack, keeping his eyes discreetly averted away from the major's underwear. Next came the sleeping bag and pillow. He rolled the standard issue sleeping bag, and wrestled it into its tiny cover. Placing that on top of the pyjamas, he added the pillow to the pack and took a final glance around to make sure he'd gathered everything. A small square-shaped scrap in the far corner of the tent caught his eye. Crawling over, he reached for it, and turned it over. His heart clenched inside his chest. It was a photograph of a pretty young girl, waving at the camera. On one side of her sat a man with dark hair, his arm around her. On the other sat a woman, with shoulder length, blonde hair, smiling the same smile O'Neill saw every day. Even then the resemblance between mother and daughter was striking. Slowly, Jack turned over the photo. Written on the back, in neat print, was a short sentence. *Little Sammy, her mother and I.* Very gently, the colonel placed the worn photo in his pocket. He then made a silent vow to himself. He would return that photo to Sam, no matter what.
***
The first rays of dawn began to creep through the trees as Carter finally collapsed under an elm tree. Unfamiliar surroundings confused her battered mind, as she crawled further under the shelter. Hours of walking had combined with fatigue and exhaustion, and the soaking wet, freezing material of her fatigues. She shivered violently, and brought her knees up to her chest for warmth. Rocking slightly to keep the blood flowing to her exhausted legs, the full realization of the stupidness of her actions hit her like a freight train. She was lost, with no way to contact the team, and had no food or water to sustain herself. Cursing her temper bitterly, Sam searched for the actual reason she had left the camp. She groaned inwardly as she found the answer. Colonel O'Neill. He had come out, demanding a reason for why she had not called him to relieve her of sentry, and had tried to point out that she wasn't being very intelligent sitting out in the cold, trying to act tough. Much as she hated to admit, he did have a point. She had been stupid, and had let her pig-headed pride make the desicions. But it was the *way* he had reacted to her; snapping, and telling her he "thought she knew better that that". Apart from angering her, it had weakened her, and added to her fears over what he thought of her. But, no matter his opinion on her capibility, Carter knew she had hurt him deeply with her biting parting remarks. The flash of pain deep in his brown eyes was proof enough. She pledged to herself, that she would apologise to him the next time they saw each other. That was all she could do to ease her guilt over the matter. *Next time...* Her vision began to cloud as she was pulled towards unconcsiousness. As she gazed up through the canopy of the majestic tree she lay under, her final thoughts played like a record through her mind. *Next time...* *Next time...* Her eyes slowly closed as she succumbed to the darkness.
***
O'Neill's body ached from worry and weariness. They had been searching for a little over two hours, without finding a trace of the major. They were fast running out of time before they would have to return to the 'Gate. Before leaving their camp site, the three remaining SG1 members had agreed to take seperate routes. O'Neill took the east route, Daniel the south, and Teal'c the west. Due north was the Stargate, so if Carter had not yet been located by the time they needed to return, they could search on the way back. As the colonel struggled through the dense scrub, he thought about Carter and the photograph. *It must be one of the only ones she has of her mother,* he realized. That made it even more precious. He knew how it felt to have someone missing in your life, and could understand why the major would carry the photo. Away in his thoughts, he misjudged the height of a log on his path, and went flying. He landed sprawled on his rear. Cursing colourfully, he attempted to pull himself up from the damp ground. Suddenly a crackle from his radio distracted him. Jack? Jack, do you read? O'Neill scrambled to his feet. "Yup Daniel," he replied. Jack, I think we've got something. The colonel's heart leapt. "Ok Danny, where are you?"
***
Daniel wasted no time with greetings when Jack came crashing through the scrub, simply pointing to a small scrap of the unmistakable camouflague secured to a low-lying branch. "We found that first," the doctor explained, "Then, we scouted around a bit for any other signs, and we found this." He walked a few paces to the right, and poined to distinct boot-print, set in the damp muddy ground. "We're on the right track then." O'Neill stated, before turning in the direction of the print. "She can't be far, keep looking." He led the way through the thick, treacherous foliage, being careful to keep watching for any other signs of the major's path.
Twenty minutes later, Jack caught a flash of gold through the trees. Calling to the other two, he raced through the scub, careless of the branches scratching and tearing at his face. Finally he reached the tree under which Carter lay.
She looked so peaceful, so serene, but for her blue-tinged lips, and dishevelled clothing. He knelt beside her, lifting her torso to his chest, alarmed at how wet her clothing was, and how cold and clammy her hands were in his. As he held her to him, she felt like lifeless doll in his arms.
***
A/N - Well, there's a little cliffhanger for ya (not a very good one, I know) Thanks for reading this so far, and there's more to come soon! StarKate
