Obselete

by Jara



Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. I'm just borrowing.

A/N: This is the most angstiest (so it isn't a word just yet but I'm trying to promote it) fic I have ever written. It's born out of my own fears for Stargate. Hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you hya and nhawk for betaing.

I'd like to dedicate this fic to the queen of angst: nhawk.

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As he sagged down in the chair behind his desk, Jack felt useless. Obsolete, even.

This wasn't how he had imagined it ending. Finally the Goa'uld were defeated. Some minor system lords were still in power but they were being dealt with as he was sitting here. The Asgard had managed to overcome their problems and their whole fleet together with all SGC teams had crushed the Goa'uld like bugs. It was the ending everyone had fought for for the last seven years.

He should be happy; he should be celebrating with the rest.

But he wasn't, he couldn't. His work here was done, the letter lying in front of him would finally be handed in, but it wouldn't bring the catharsis he had been hoping for.

The SGC didn't need him anymore. Most missions remaining would be diplomatic and let's face it: Colonel Jack O'Neill wasn't a diplomat. Sure, they would still go out and explore planets and part of him craved to continue. It was strange thinking about SG-1 being out there without him in command. But he couldn't cut it anymore. He was getting too old for it all. The soft ache in his knees confirmed his thoughts. Every time he came back from a mission the soreness was worse. It didn't go away anymore, not with a long hot bath, not with a massage. It was constantly there and he knew that if he continued, one day his team would pay for it.

But who was he kidding? From the first day he had known this time would come. He also knew that the SGC would do fine without him, something that hurt but he could live with. No, it was something else. It was the fact that the one thing he had been hoping to get when this time came, wasn't possible anymore.

Jack shook his head and sat up in his chair. He wouldn't think like this; he wouldn't let himself get dragged down by it. So she had moved on, he could do it too. As he was about to pick up the letter a soft knock on the door startled him. His hand froze above the paper and he remained perfectly still. As far as he knew, no one was aware of where he was. Praying they would just give up and leave, he remained silent.

He wasn't in luck. The knocker rapped on the door again and as there still wasn't an answer, they opened the door. Blonde hair poked inside and soon blue eyes were looking at him, concerned.

"Sir?" His soon-to-be ex-2IC asked.

Jack sighed. "Come in, Carter."

He didn't have to say it twice as she quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and studied him for a moment.

Jack wasn't sure what she was thinking. There used to be a time when they just had to look at each other for a second and they both knew exactly what was going on in the other's mind.

Not anymore. Things had changed.

"What's up, Carter?" He finally broke the silence and seemed to pull her out of her thoughts. She pushed off the door and took two steps towards him before changing her mind and standing still. Her hands slipped in front of her and she clasped them together. The object of his sorrow now painfully visible.

"Nothing, sir. I just noticed you weren't at the party and..." She stopped talking and looked down at her feet.

"And what?" He asked, suddenly annoyed at her for actually caring and noticing he was gone.

"I just wondered if you were alright." She finished, choosing to ignore the annoyance in his voice even though he was sure she heard it.

He shrugged. "Peachy. We saved the universe... with help from the Asgard. Why wouldn't I be alright?" His eyes rested on her accusingly and she didn't miss that either. There was something in the way she looked at him, almost as if she regretted the decisions that had been made. But he didn't make them, it wasn't his fault things were like this.

"You don't look it." She pointed out and the tone in her voice betrayed that she wouldn't be able to hold on to her calm. He didn't care, he wanted to shout at her. He wanted to know why she had done this to them. Why she couldn't have waited like he thought they had silently agreed. He wanted to walk up to her, shake her with all his force in the hope that she would get things right again. He wanted to kiss her, show her he still wanted her.

But he didn't. He kept sitting in his chair and his eyes wandered back to the letter. "I'm leaving the SGC." He stated matter-of-factly. It wasn't an answer to her question.

For several minutes an aching silence settled in his office. Then finally, after what seemed like centuries, Sam spoke again.

"Why?"

The question tore something inside him as realisation dawned. How many times had he dreamt this scenario? He almost knew the reason by heart: 'Because I'm not needed here anymore. The SGC doesn't need an old soldier like me who will mess up any diplomatic mission. It's time for me to move on... for us to move on. We fought for seven years and now finally I can give this up without guilt and take what I want. Finally I can build up a future and I want you to be in it.'

He didn't say the words; they didn't mean anything anymore, not to her.

"It's the right time," he said instead.

She nodded, somehow understanding that the reason why he had stayed here had expired. Her eyes didn't meet his as he studied her. They were fixated on his desk, on the letter. He wished he could reach out to her, ask her what she was thinking.

"You'll do fine. Hammond will probably give you command of SG-1." He started, it was so much easier to talk about.

All he got from her was another nod. "You will be missed." She said in a hoarse voice, and for a second he allowed himself to believe that she was talking about herself. For a second he wanted to believe that she actually cared about him.

Only to have the fantasy be squashed by the next words that came out of her mouth.

"Will you be coming to the engagement party?"

All he could do now was nod. Of course he would be there. Even if it was just to see her again. But he also knew that she wouldn't see him, he would slip the package inside and sneak out again without making his presence known. It would be too painful to talk to her but he wanted to see her happy. She deserved it, he knew that. He just wished that it was him who was making her laugh. At the SGC there had been days when the only thing that kept him going was that he was able to make her smile.

The dull ache in his chest, a constant presence ever since she had walked into the mess with the diamond ring on her finger, intensified. Another silence settled between them and he wondered if things had ever been this awkward not even after having to keep everything in the room had he felt this bad.

Sam seemed to be aware of it as well as she shifted nervously and for the first time really looked into his eyes. Hers were glistening mysteriously and he wished it was because she would miss him. But he didn't know, he couldn't see through the haze; he could no longer read those blue mirrors that were once transparent for him.

"Will you at least say goodbye to everyone?" She asked in a shaky voice. He kept looking into her eyes, trying to calculate which feelings were causing the unsteadiness.

He nodded again even though he knew he wouldn't. "Yeah, I will."

She nodded with a sadness he hated to see on her face. Samantha Carter was no fool, she knew perfectly well that he wouldn't go back to the celebration. That he would quietly slip out of the base. "I'll see you there then." She said not moving.

"Yeah, you will." No goodbyes, that was good. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to walk out of the mountain if he had to go through that.

There came no response from her as she nodded once more and then turned around. She walked back to the door and slowly opened it. Something in her movements made him think she wanted him to stop her. Another false hope. She turned to look at him and give him an apologetic, regretful smile. He knew what it said: 'I'm sorry for not waiting. I'm sorry for breaking our promise. I'm sorry I can't make you happy. I'm sorry I love someone else.'

He smiled back at her, telling her it was alright. It really was, he didn't blame her. They had gone through a lot and it was hard to do that without having someone there for you. If only she would have come to him instead of... But he didn't want to go there, not now. She stayed one more second and then slipped through the door, leaving his office as empty as his heart.

Sighing Jack O'Neill picked up the letter and stood up. He walked through the desolated corridors, the music of the party in the mess echoing vaguely in the background. His footsteps an empty sound in contrast to the cheery beats. There was no one in General Hammond's office as he put the letter of resignation on the desk. There was no one in the corridors to stop him from leaving. No one in the elevator to ask him where he was going.

The airmen at the gate let him through without problem.

"Goodnight, Colonel O'Neill." The guard at the last security post leading out of the Mountain complex told him as he handed back his ID.

Jack took it back from him and stuck it in his breast pocket. "Just O'Neill." He corrected and drove unto the road, leaving the SGC one final time, leaving his heart buried deep into the bowels of a secret complex.

THE END