The Stuff of Nightmares Part 11
There was something so familiar about this, sitting, gun in hand in a silent house.
The last time that he had done it, he had felt that presence beside him, calling. His heart had been closed to it then. Closed to everything but grief, but he had been touched momentarily by something. It had been enough to make him hesitate, make him rethink the unthinkable.
That time he had put the gun down, unused, images of other deaths too close beside him.
Too much blood to see clearly.
It was too easy and Jack O'Neill never took the easy road.
There was something so familiar about this, sitting, gun in hand in a silent house.
The last time that he had done it, he had felt that presence beside him, calling. His heart had been closed to it then. Closed to everything but grief, but he had been touched momentarily by something. It had been enough to make him hesitate, make him rethink the unthinkable.
That time he had put the gun down, unused, images of other deaths too close beside him.
Too much blood to see clearly.
It was too easy and Jack O'Neill never took the easy road.