"Jack."
O'Neill knew without conscious thought that the gun was his own. How many times had he held the weapon that the little boy was holding? How many times had it saved his life when it was all he had to fall back on when he'd run out of ammo for the other weapons? He knew.
The man in him froze as a flash of memory came. A different boy. A different weapon. A gunshot that broke through the stillness of a quiet summer day. Fear, then sorrow, then a dead emptiness. The man saw it happening again, as though he were living those painful months all over again in an instant, and felt fear.
The soldier acted instantly, instinctively, long before the man had a chance to. Far quicker than Jack could have just then. Far more rapidly than Sam, who was equally frozen. The soldier knew that the boy wasn't an instant threat. Instinct that had saved Jack from the Gou'ld - and worse - countless times stepped in and moved the man when he couldn't move on his own. His hand snapped out, grabbing the weapon from the boy's limp grip and jerking it away with a force that would leave a long lasting mark on the finger that had been caught in the trigger guard.
The soldier started to turn the gun on the boy, an automatic reaction to such a confrontation, but then the man stepped in and took control once more. Nominal control, anyways. The fear had turned to anger and disbelief so quickly that only Shawn had actually seen it in Jack's eyes, and he was so stunned he didn't recognize it for what it was.
Jack looked down at the weapon in his hand, staring it at as though he'd never seen it before.
"I'm sorry!" The voice was high-pitched, and terrified. Not as terrified as Jack had been, though. His lightening quick temper took control.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
The shout was filled with rage, and it shook Sam out of her instant paralysis. She'd never heard him so angry. Had never heard the loathing in his voice that she heard just then. She didn't know if it was directed at Shawn or at himself, but there was no denying that O'Neill was as close to losing control as Carter had ever seen him.
"Sir!" It was an automatic reaction of her own. She immediately switched from lover to fellow soldier, knowing instinctively that as his lover she had absolutely no chance of stopping him from doing anything he'd regret later. The fellow soldier might remind him of the discipline that she needed him to fall back on so desperately just then.
"SHUT UP, CARTER!"
He knew what she was doing, and wasn't going to be placated. Would never be placated. He took a step to the boy, gripping the barrel of his pistol so tightly that his entire fingers were white and not just his knuckles. Shawn was too shocked to move. Both by the surprise of finding Jack, and by the fury he saw on O'Neill's very pale face. He turned his full attention and anger back on the boy.
"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?"
"I-I-"Shawn couldn't have answered him if he wanted to. He had made a terrible mistake, and was paying the worst price ever as far as he knew. Jack hated him. There was absolutely no doubt in the little boy's mind that Jack hated him more than he'd ever hate anything.
Jack wasn't waiting for an answer.
"WHERE!"
The shout was louder than the last, and Shawn flinched from the fury even as Carter stepped between Jack and the boy.
"Sir!"
Shawn had had enough. He bolted. Ran from the hate in his hero's eyes, and the hate in his voice. Ran as fast as he could, trying to flee a mistake that couldn't be undone, no matter how much he wanted it to be. He crashed through the woods, running blindly as tears started to fall, and didn't stop, even when he heard Carter call his name.
"Shawn!" Carter watched as the boy took off, understanding completely why he was running, but afraid he'd hurt himself in his headlong flight. Very few men would have been able to stand firm under the anger in O'Neill's voice, and definitely not one little boy. Shawn didn't stop, though, and he didn't look back. She heard the brush cracking underfoot as he ran further away.
She turned back to look at O'Neill, who was watching the boy run as well, the fury still very much alive in the firm set of his features. Sam had never seen him so angry. She reached for the weapon, but he jerked his hand away before she even came close.
"Sir?"
"Go find him, Carter, before he hurts himself." The rage in his voice wasn't even enough to veil the irony of that statement.
"Then what?"
"Keep him away from me."
He stalked off into the night, his gun firmly in his hand, and his temper barely under control.
~**~
Carter watched him go, still stunned by sudden turn of events. This was absolutely the last thing she would have expected, and she knew it couldn't have been worse. She wanted to go to Jack. She knew he'd need to talk, eventually. Once the anger that consumed him burned out and he was rational again. But she also knew, as Jack had pointed out even in his fury, that Shawn needed to be dealt with and O'Neill wasn't the one to do it. He was the last one to do it.
She sighed, and headed off toward the direction she'd last seen Shawn running, hoping that he wouldn't go too far, and that she'd be able to find him in the dark.
O'Neill knew without conscious thought that the gun was his own. How many times had he held the weapon that the little boy was holding? How many times had it saved his life when it was all he had to fall back on when he'd run out of ammo for the other weapons? He knew.
The man in him froze as a flash of memory came. A different boy. A different weapon. A gunshot that broke through the stillness of a quiet summer day. Fear, then sorrow, then a dead emptiness. The man saw it happening again, as though he were living those painful months all over again in an instant, and felt fear.
The soldier acted instantly, instinctively, long before the man had a chance to. Far quicker than Jack could have just then. Far more rapidly than Sam, who was equally frozen. The soldier knew that the boy wasn't an instant threat. Instinct that had saved Jack from the Gou'ld - and worse - countless times stepped in and moved the man when he couldn't move on his own. His hand snapped out, grabbing the weapon from the boy's limp grip and jerking it away with a force that would leave a long lasting mark on the finger that had been caught in the trigger guard.
The soldier started to turn the gun on the boy, an automatic reaction to such a confrontation, but then the man stepped in and took control once more. Nominal control, anyways. The fear had turned to anger and disbelief so quickly that only Shawn had actually seen it in Jack's eyes, and he was so stunned he didn't recognize it for what it was.
Jack looked down at the weapon in his hand, staring it at as though he'd never seen it before.
"I'm sorry!" The voice was high-pitched, and terrified. Not as terrified as Jack had been, though. His lightening quick temper took control.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
The shout was filled with rage, and it shook Sam out of her instant paralysis. She'd never heard him so angry. Had never heard the loathing in his voice that she heard just then. She didn't know if it was directed at Shawn or at himself, but there was no denying that O'Neill was as close to losing control as Carter had ever seen him.
"Sir!" It was an automatic reaction of her own. She immediately switched from lover to fellow soldier, knowing instinctively that as his lover she had absolutely no chance of stopping him from doing anything he'd regret later. The fellow soldier might remind him of the discipline that she needed him to fall back on so desperately just then.
"SHUT UP, CARTER!"
He knew what she was doing, and wasn't going to be placated. Would never be placated. He took a step to the boy, gripping the barrel of his pistol so tightly that his entire fingers were white and not just his knuckles. Shawn was too shocked to move. Both by the surprise of finding Jack, and by the fury he saw on O'Neill's very pale face. He turned his full attention and anger back on the boy.
"WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?"
"I-I-"Shawn couldn't have answered him if he wanted to. He had made a terrible mistake, and was paying the worst price ever as far as he knew. Jack hated him. There was absolutely no doubt in the little boy's mind that Jack hated him more than he'd ever hate anything.
Jack wasn't waiting for an answer.
"WHERE!"
The shout was louder than the last, and Shawn flinched from the fury even as Carter stepped between Jack and the boy.
"Sir!"
Shawn had had enough. He bolted. Ran from the hate in his hero's eyes, and the hate in his voice. Ran as fast as he could, trying to flee a mistake that couldn't be undone, no matter how much he wanted it to be. He crashed through the woods, running blindly as tears started to fall, and didn't stop, even when he heard Carter call his name.
"Shawn!" Carter watched as the boy took off, understanding completely why he was running, but afraid he'd hurt himself in his headlong flight. Very few men would have been able to stand firm under the anger in O'Neill's voice, and definitely not one little boy. Shawn didn't stop, though, and he didn't look back. She heard the brush cracking underfoot as he ran further away.
She turned back to look at O'Neill, who was watching the boy run as well, the fury still very much alive in the firm set of his features. Sam had never seen him so angry. She reached for the weapon, but he jerked his hand away before she even came close.
"Sir?"
"Go find him, Carter, before he hurts himself." The rage in his voice wasn't even enough to veil the irony of that statement.
"Then what?"
"Keep him away from me."
He stalked off into the night, his gun firmly in his hand, and his temper barely under control.
~**~
Carter watched him go, still stunned by sudden turn of events. This was absolutely the last thing she would have expected, and she knew it couldn't have been worse. She wanted to go to Jack. She knew he'd need to talk, eventually. Once the anger that consumed him burned out and he was rational again. But she also knew, as Jack had pointed out even in his fury, that Shawn needed to be dealt with and O'Neill wasn't the one to do it. He was the last one to do it.
She sighed, and headed off toward the direction she'd last seen Shawn running, hoping that he wouldn't go too far, and that she'd be able to find him in the dark.