"The Commandant will see you now, Mr. Brooks."
Ian nodded, and walked past the secretary's desk and into the office, where the Commandant was sitting at his desk, watching as he came in.
"You're out of uniform, Cadet."
The piercing glare that cowed all the cadets – and any wrong-doing instructors – didn't have the same affect on Ian, who had grown up facing a far more intimidating scowl every day. But he did respect the General, and when he stood at attention, it wasn't mocking.
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry."
He hadn't known whether to change into a cadet's uniform or not, and had opted to stay in his jeans and t-shirt – although he did have his jacket on, so he didn't look quite so bad.
The Commandant nodded, and gestured for him to sit down. Ian didn't know it, but the General was watching him far more intently than he thought, and was pleased to see that even in one evening the young man had managed to lose the majority of the haunted look in his expression – although it lingered slightly in his eyes. Aside from him being out of uniform – which wasn't unforgivable – he looked much better than he had the day before.
"How are you feeling, Cadet?"
"Better than yesterday, Sir." Ian said, shrugging. He knew that was what the man wanted to hear – and besides, it was true.
The Commandant nodded.
"You look better."
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied Ian.
"You spoke to Cadet Adams?"
"Sir?"
The Commandant gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Never make the mistake of thinking I don't know what's going on here, Ian." He admonished. "I know what was bothering you the most, and I want to know if you've spoken to Cadet Adams and talked it through with him."
Ian scowled, but he nodded.
"Yes, Sir. We've spoken."
"And you're sufficiently convinced that you aren't responsible for what happened to his parents?"
"I didn't say that."
It might have been what the Commandant wanted to hear, but Ian wasn't going to lie to the man.
The General was silent, waiting for him to elaborate, since it was obvious that he'd come to some sort of conclusion – or he wouldn't look quite so at peace with himself.
"He's convinced me that he doesn't hold me responsible."
"Which isn't the same as believing it yourself."
"No."
The Commandant watched him for another moment, but Ian didn't speak up. Instead, he sat in the chair, watching and waiting for the next question. Finally, the Commandant spoke again.
"Have you changed your mind about your decision to intern under Colonel O'Neill?"
Ian nodded.
"He and I discussed it, Sir. It sounds like an opportunity I shouldn't pass up."
"Even though it will pull you away from your studies for the rest of the academic year?"
Ian shrugged.
"With respect, Sir. I can catch up. I can keep up, for that matter, if my teachers allow me to come by every now and thenand pick up the classwork. Major O'Neill isn't actually an instructor, but she is a graduate of this Academy – and my classes aren't anything she hasn't seen before. She could answer any problems I have with the coursework."
Of course, his tone indicated that he didn't expect to have any such problems, but the Commandant didn't comment on that. It was clear the cadet had thought this through – at least that part of it.
"And do you intend to return the next school year, eager and ready to settle in here?"
"I'll return, Sir." Ian said. "Unless something unexpected comes up and I am physically unable to."
"You mean that?"
Ian nodded, giving the Commandant a wry smile.
"If I don't get a Commission, General, I'm never going to outrank my father. I'm too blunt to become a politician, so Commander in Chief is out. Which means a Military commission."
The Commandant actually smiled at that. Unbeknownst to Ian, he'd already received a call that morning from Nathan Brooks – who he was friends with – and had fielded several questions about Ian's possible transfer – however temporary – from the academy. Mainly, Nate had wanted to know if his son's grades were suffering because of the time lost to recovering from his injuries earlier, and the General had been pleased to hear that his son held the top place in the class – and most likely would, even if he was allowed to complete his school year away from the school.
"Is that your goal in life, Mr. Brooks?"
Ian shrugged.
"It will do until I find a better one, Sir."
The Commandant shook his head, thinking that maybe it would be good for Ian to spend a bit of time with O'Neill. Jack definitely could give the boy some direction, at least, because Ian definitely was foundering if his only goal was for his father to have to salute him.
"I'm going to approve your transfer, Cadet – your temporary transfer. I expect you to come by the academy once a week and pick up any assignments your instructors might have for you, and I'm going to also insist that you ask Captain Patrick for extra work every week. He seems to think you have the makings of a fine Engineer, and I want to see if he's right. Major O'Neill can help you with anything that you don't understand and can't bring back to the Captain for explanation."
Ian hesitated.
"I don't know if she's going to be willing to-"
"I'll ask her, Cadet," He interrupted. "And then I'll tell her that if Jack wants you, she's going to have to let me have my few concessions, because otherwise I'm going to keep you here."
He smiled, because he knew exactly the look Colonel O'Neill would give Major O'Neill at that statement, and he knew Sam would sigh and roll her eyes, and then give in. And that was only if she were unwilling to assist Brooks – which he knew she wouldn't be.
Ian nodded. He was pretty sure Sam would help him – at least until she got closer to having the baby. By then, though, it would be close to the end of the school year, and he might not need the help.
"Yes, Sir."
"Go pack, Mr. Brooks. And tell your roommates you'll see them once a week when you check in."
Ian nodded and stood up, but the Commandant wasn't quite finished.
"I don't need to tell you that I expect you to be on your best behavior, do I?"
"No, Sir. I know you do."
Which wasn't to say that he was going to do it, the Commandant noticed.
"If you need anything, call."
"Thank you, Sir."
Ian wasn't in uniform, but he saluted the General anyways, spun on his heel and left the office, breathing a sigh of relief as he did so. He wasn't positive that this was the smartest thing he'd ever done in his life, but he was pretty sure that it was important that he do it. And he was glad that the Commandant was making him return every week. Not because he could get classwork, but because he could check on Shawn on his own, now, too.
The best of both worlds.