Author: Jackiwi
Title: Home for Christmas
Disclaimer: They aren't mine! MGM, double secret and Gekko own 'em.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/ Sam
Spoilers: None
Summery: Lots of angst and what not.
Authors note: Just sat down and started writing. This is the result, hope
you like it! Feedback is always welcome.
Home for Christmas
Bare feet pad delicately on tip toes along the cold stone-tiled floor. A lateness of the hour is given away by the desertion of the lower levels of the house, the darkness beyond the windows and the soft sound of clocks ticking, the radiators refilling and readying themselves for another cold winter's day.
Standing at the sink in the kitchen, she fills the kettle as quickly and as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Cassie, who stays with her sometimes when Janet is out of town. Turning off the jet of icy cold water, she replaces the lid and takes it over to the worktop, plugging it in with a small 'click'.
With nothing better to do in the four minutes the kettle takes to heat the water to 100oC, she goes to the coat stand and pulls out his biggest and warmest coat. A black puffer jacket which he often wore on his fishing trips, once the climate turned hostile. Wrapping it around her, she heads for the back door, opening it and pulling it aside.
The night air is full but still. The cries of owls and their unwilling victims rings through the frosty darkness and the moon, only a crescent, sits high up, resting on a solitary bed of clouds. A million sparkles glitter in the sky, each trying to outshine its neighbour, and tiny red and white lights move busily across the sky, each following its own path.
A chill catches her as she steps out onto the decking, and she moves swiftly as her feet hit the frozen wood panels. Making it to the bench she settles down and pulls the coat tighter around her, tucking her feet up underneath her legs to keep them warm.
Sadness swells her heart. She always misses him on nights like this. Nights when they would go up to his roof and watch the stars as they fell from the sky. She won't cry anymore, she has cried enough. Now the tears are internal and the pain still so fresh, is constant and beyond her understanding.
She has this dream sometimes; she sits watching the tiny pinholes of light, and as one tumbles she makes a wish, a wish he was here with her, now. The star disappears and she closes her eyes, knowing that wishes only come true in fairytales. But then she feels his breath on the back of her neck, his deep voice whispering in her ear and his soft, warm, beaten hands enclosing on her own. But when she turns to look at him, he vanishes, leaving wisps of fine sliver mist behind him. The dream always wakes her, and over the first few weeks, when she forgot he was gone, she would get up and search the house. Call his name, but the only response she ever got was silence.
Six months have gone by since he was pronounced 'missing in action, presumed dead'. 84 days since that day, June 21st. she fell apart that day, and try as they might, no one has been able to put her back together. It was by pure chance that Teal'C walked in on her, the small hand gun she kept in her nightstand resting in her shaking hands. She had being playing with its cold black metal barrel for hours, unloading it and reloading it. She didn't want this life without him and if one tiny little golden bullet could make the pain go away then she would hold it to her head and pull the trigger.
But Teal'C stopped her, he talked her round. Convinced her that until they knew for sure he was dead; she had something to live for. She still has his stuff in her house; his toothbrush in the bathroom, his aftershave on her dresser. She can't let go of him. Because there's a feeling hidden somewhere inside that tells her not too, though she can't explain it.
Lost in her thoughts, the smell of coffee drifting on the air steals her attention. She didn't make the coffee yet, so why was the smell coming from her home? Maybe Daniel came over, saw the lights on and let himself in? She picks herself up and runs across the cold deck until she reaches the warmth of the carpet covered floor in the lounge. Closing the door and locking it, she moves through the house to the kitchen silently. Surly no intruder would be making coffee, but you can never be sure. At the doorway she stops dead in her tracks. A man with his back to her is busy adding milk to the hot drinks. Turning around, his eyes lock on hers.
Adrenaline races through her veins as her heart pumps so fast she can barely breathe. Her throat tightens and her eyes sting with the tears she was sure had run dry. A moment of hope, of sudden joy gives way to rational thinking and she kicks herself for believing this elusion.
"No, it can't be. It's just a dream, it must be?" she tells herself out loud, waiting for the moment when the man standing before, the man with dusty grey hair, deep brown eyes and scars that had to remain unexplained to most, the moment when he would vanish from her sight. The clock on the wall becomes as loud as thunder as every second ticks past. He does not move, just looks at her. She blinks, and still he stands there, the opening and closing of her eyes had not carried him away.
Inching closer, she looks at him, really looks. Everything about him is real; she even thinks she can smell him. No dream had been like this, not one had lasted this long. Daring to believe, she reaches out a shaking hand and lays it on his chest.
Solid. Her hand didn't pass through him like a ghost, he is solid, and not only that but she can feel his heart beating under her touch. A steady strong heartbeat. If this was some kind of dream then she never wants to wake up. She takes hold of his black t-shirt and holds on with all her might as she draws so close to him now she can feel his breath. He is not leaving her now.
"Jack?" she whispers and the thick emotion filled sound of her voice takes her by surprise.
The man nodded and smiled softly.
"Merry Christmas Sam."
His voice! Exactly as she remembered it, thick and deep. Suddenly her knees give way and she falls in a heap on the floor, pulling him down with her. She can't keep it in any longer and tears fall like rain on to her face. He holds her tightly, her face in his hands as he looks her in the eye.
"I'm home, baby. And I'm never leaving again, I promise." He whispers as he kisses her hair.
She didn't know where he'd been, or how he'd got back, but she didn't care. All she cared about was that he was back now, home, where he belonged. And this time it was for good.
THE END
Home for Christmas
Bare feet pad delicately on tip toes along the cold stone-tiled floor. A lateness of the hour is given away by the desertion of the lower levels of the house, the darkness beyond the windows and the soft sound of clocks ticking, the radiators refilling and readying themselves for another cold winter's day.
Standing at the sink in the kitchen, she fills the kettle as quickly and as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Cassie, who stays with her sometimes when Janet is out of town. Turning off the jet of icy cold water, she replaces the lid and takes it over to the worktop, plugging it in with a small 'click'.
With nothing better to do in the four minutes the kettle takes to heat the water to 100oC, she goes to the coat stand and pulls out his biggest and warmest coat. A black puffer jacket which he often wore on his fishing trips, once the climate turned hostile. Wrapping it around her, she heads for the back door, opening it and pulling it aside.
The night air is full but still. The cries of owls and their unwilling victims rings through the frosty darkness and the moon, only a crescent, sits high up, resting on a solitary bed of clouds. A million sparkles glitter in the sky, each trying to outshine its neighbour, and tiny red and white lights move busily across the sky, each following its own path.
A chill catches her as she steps out onto the decking, and she moves swiftly as her feet hit the frozen wood panels. Making it to the bench she settles down and pulls the coat tighter around her, tucking her feet up underneath her legs to keep them warm.
Sadness swells her heart. She always misses him on nights like this. Nights when they would go up to his roof and watch the stars as they fell from the sky. She won't cry anymore, she has cried enough. Now the tears are internal and the pain still so fresh, is constant and beyond her understanding.
She has this dream sometimes; she sits watching the tiny pinholes of light, and as one tumbles she makes a wish, a wish he was here with her, now. The star disappears and she closes her eyes, knowing that wishes only come true in fairytales. But then she feels his breath on the back of her neck, his deep voice whispering in her ear and his soft, warm, beaten hands enclosing on her own. But when she turns to look at him, he vanishes, leaving wisps of fine sliver mist behind him. The dream always wakes her, and over the first few weeks, when she forgot he was gone, she would get up and search the house. Call his name, but the only response she ever got was silence.
Six months have gone by since he was pronounced 'missing in action, presumed dead'. 84 days since that day, June 21st. she fell apart that day, and try as they might, no one has been able to put her back together. It was by pure chance that Teal'C walked in on her, the small hand gun she kept in her nightstand resting in her shaking hands. She had being playing with its cold black metal barrel for hours, unloading it and reloading it. She didn't want this life without him and if one tiny little golden bullet could make the pain go away then she would hold it to her head and pull the trigger.
But Teal'C stopped her, he talked her round. Convinced her that until they knew for sure he was dead; she had something to live for. She still has his stuff in her house; his toothbrush in the bathroom, his aftershave on her dresser. She can't let go of him. Because there's a feeling hidden somewhere inside that tells her not too, though she can't explain it.
Lost in her thoughts, the smell of coffee drifting on the air steals her attention. She didn't make the coffee yet, so why was the smell coming from her home? Maybe Daniel came over, saw the lights on and let himself in? She picks herself up and runs across the cold deck until she reaches the warmth of the carpet covered floor in the lounge. Closing the door and locking it, she moves through the house to the kitchen silently. Surly no intruder would be making coffee, but you can never be sure. At the doorway she stops dead in her tracks. A man with his back to her is busy adding milk to the hot drinks. Turning around, his eyes lock on hers.
Adrenaline races through her veins as her heart pumps so fast she can barely breathe. Her throat tightens and her eyes sting with the tears she was sure had run dry. A moment of hope, of sudden joy gives way to rational thinking and she kicks herself for believing this elusion.
"No, it can't be. It's just a dream, it must be?" she tells herself out loud, waiting for the moment when the man standing before, the man with dusty grey hair, deep brown eyes and scars that had to remain unexplained to most, the moment when he would vanish from her sight. The clock on the wall becomes as loud as thunder as every second ticks past. He does not move, just looks at her. She blinks, and still he stands there, the opening and closing of her eyes had not carried him away.
Inching closer, she looks at him, really looks. Everything about him is real; she even thinks she can smell him. No dream had been like this, not one had lasted this long. Daring to believe, she reaches out a shaking hand and lays it on his chest.
Solid. Her hand didn't pass through him like a ghost, he is solid, and not only that but she can feel his heart beating under her touch. A steady strong heartbeat. If this was some kind of dream then she never wants to wake up. She takes hold of his black t-shirt and holds on with all her might as she draws so close to him now she can feel his breath. He is not leaving her now.
"Jack?" she whispers and the thick emotion filled sound of her voice takes her by surprise.
The man nodded and smiled softly.
"Merry Christmas Sam."
His voice! Exactly as she remembered it, thick and deep. Suddenly her knees give way and she falls in a heap on the floor, pulling him down with her. She can't keep it in any longer and tears fall like rain on to her face. He holds her tightly, her face in his hands as he looks her in the eye.
"I'm home, baby. And I'm never leaving again, I promise." He whispers as he kisses her hair.
She didn't know where he'd been, or how he'd got back, but she didn't care. All she cared about was that he was back now, home, where he belonged. And this time it was for good.
THE END