"Leave the academy?"
Ian nodded.
"I want to resign, Sir. From the school."
The Commandant leaned back in his chair, looking up at Ian, who was still standing in the middle of the room.
"Have a seat, Mr. Brooks."
Ian did as he was told, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come, but the Commandant simply looked at him for a few long moments, his expression unreadable and his eyes flat and gray. Finally, he spoke, and his voice was just as toneless.
"Request denied."
"What?"
That wasn't what Ian had expected to hear.
"Is there a problem with your hearing, Mr. Brooks?"
"No, Sir."
"Let me ask you this; is there something wrong with you – something physically wrong with you that makes you feel you are unable to complete your arrangement with this institution?"
Ian shook his head his.
"No, Sir. But I-"
"I've read your file, Mr. Brooks." He opened his desk drawer and pulled a manila file out of it, as if to prove that. Sure enough, it had Ian's name on it. "From your grades at the last exams, there's obviously nothing in your classes keeping you from continuing. You haven't missed a question on a quiz or exam since you've arrived."
Ian scowled.
"Sir. I just…"
"You just what, Ian?"
"I don't want to be here… I-"
"Let me explain something to you, Ian," the Commandant told him, leaning forward. "You made a commitment to this school – to the Military institution of the United States of America. You signed papers, and you've given your oath. That's fairly binding, young man."
"Yes, Sir, but-"
"Don't interrupt me."
"Sorry, Sir."
He scowled, though; annoyed that he was getting a lecture on top of everything else.
"Because you've signed the papers committing to this school, and I am in charge of this school, that makes me ultimately in charge of you and your future. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, Sir. Which is why I'm asking you to-"
"And why I'm telling you no."
"But-"
The Commandant sighed, and shook his head.
"Ian. I know you've had it rough the last few months – even longer. Rougher than you should have, certainly. But you've pulled through the difficulties amazingly well, and you've still managed to stay on the top of your class."
Ian shook his head. That was just because he was smart. Big deal.
"Colonel O'Neill came by to talk to me this morning."
"What?"
"O'Neill…" The Commandant repeated, knowing Ian had heard him just fine the first time. "The Air Force guy with the big dog? He came by to see me today, and we had a long discussion about you."
"Sir…"
"Jack asked me to transfer you – temporarily – to Cheyenne Mountain. Apparently, he needs help with his long-range telemetry and he feels you might be able to come in handy with it."
"But-"
"There's more to it, I'm sure," The Commandant told him, waving a hand. "I don't know what it is Jack actually does there, but I'm fairly certain you don't know diddly-squat about deep space – although you could certainly pick it up quick enough. However, I told him I wasn't sure I was willing to allow the transfer."
"Good, because I don't-"
"Shut up, Mr. Brooks. Your father can interrupt me – most days – but you can not."
"Sorry, Sir."
"I'm not worried about you falling behind if I allow him to take you from the school, and it's not uncommon for cadets to go to other bases and start internships of a sort – although these are usually done in the summer time, and almost exclusively by Seniors. What I'm worried about is allowing you a chance to run from whatever your problems are, here. I want you here in one piece, and unless you deal with whatever it is that caused you to run in the first place, I have no guarantee that you won't run again. This is what I told Jack O'Neill."
He waited, but Ian didn't say anything, and the Commandant sighed.
"This is what I'm going to do, Mr. Brooks. I am not going to allow you to resign from the Academy. You have given your oath and your allegiance to this place, and to the country we're training you to defend, and I won't let you worm out of it – no matter how many times you go AWOL. Jack O'Neill wants you. I want you to talk to him and find out what he wants, and decide if it's something you're interested in doing. Then I want you to talk to Shawn Adams – who is still staying at the O'Neill's – and I want you to get whatever you're bottling up inside you out before you explode."
Ian stared at him, wondering how he could have known that it had anything to do with Shawn, but the Commandant didn't answer the unspoken question.
"You have until tomorrow morning at 0900 to do these things. At that time, I want you right back here in my office for another… chat. Do I make myself clear?"
Ian hesitated, but it was pretty apparent that the Commandant wasn't going to give him a chance to argue with him. He debated telling the General to fuck himself – see if he could get tossed out of the academy instead of resigning – but he had a feeling the old man would see right through that. Damn it. He was waiting for an answer, and looked as if he was willing to wait all day long if necessary, and Ian finally nodded, well aware that he didn't have any choice in the matter.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Get out of my office, Mr. Brooks. And don't you dare leave Colorado Springs again without my permission."
"Yes, Sir."
If he did, chances were the next person coming to find him wouldn't be Daniel and Teal'c – it'd be his father.
He stood up and left the Commandant's office, the General still sitting at his desk as he walked out the door.