"all that I've got" by sam carter oneill wagtail
chapter 2: time heals all wounds
Jonothan O'Neill sat at his dining room table nibbling at a piece of toast and flipping through the morning paper. He made a habitual movement to reach for his coffee cup and lifted it to his lips only to find the cup was cold and the coffee drunk. It was now about eight in the morning and he had been up hours earlier, with the sun— just one of the things he'd picked up (and retained) from being in the military for so long. Even now as he'd been retired for a few years, Jack still craved routine. In fact, he would still be in the military if it didn't make him think of…
Speaking of things he would have done, during the fall or spring or summer, Jack would normally be outside instead of inside, doing the one thing he knew best—fishing. But with winter came frozen ponds.
Suddenly, here was a light scratching sound coming from the patio door. Jack immediately got up and peered outside to see a border collie staring up at him with big round eyes, begging to be let in from the cold.
Jack opened the door, "Come on, Luke. It's freezing out there. "
After his retirement and permanent residence in his cabin, Jack had gotten lonely. Dogs being among his favorite people, Luke Skywalker (or just "Luke") moved in, too.
Jack walked back over to the table where he'd been sitting and picked up the empty coffee cup to toss it in the sink. He also picked up the newspaper and walked into the living room. At a desk in a corner, he opened a drawer and fished around in it until he found the scissors. Sitting down on the floor near the coffee table and began cutting an article out with meticulous precision—being sure to cut in perfectly straight lines.
When his task was complete, he disposed of the rest of the newspaper and walked over to the closet in the hallway, Luke following and watching him as if Jack were about to pull a doggie treat from the closet.
When Jack opened the closet, he reached for the topmost shelf and maneuvered a large box down. He blew on the box to rid it of the dust which had been collecting on top of it now for almost a year. . . No, a year exactly.
He placed the box on the coffee table and picked up the televison remote control, turning on the tv for background noise—just anything but the news in case he saw a story about…
He removed the still-dusty cover from the large cardboard box that had once held… a microwave? He couldn't remember, but that wasn't important. The other side of the box's cover bore a very familiar design.
The contents of the box made his heart rate race and retard at the same time… the same insignia on the inside of the cover was imprinted on a patch on his SGC jacket—the first item out of the box.
Second, he pulled out a scrapbook. Such a cliché, he thought, as he opened the cover to reveal a picture of SG1. He studied the faces, not having seen any of them in the past year. He wondered briefly how much those faces had changed since he'd seen them last. Nostalgia flooded over him as the next picture showed SG1, not serious and stern as in the previous picture, but this time relaxed and smiling. The photograph was taken their second year together, at a picnic with George Hammond and Janet and Cassandra Fraiser. The picture of the team's third year was missing but his favorite, from their fourth, was in its rightful place.
In this picture, taken at a local diner the very night before the memory-stamping incident, the team was in civilian clothes. They were all squeezed into one side of a booth—Teal'c frowning uncomfortably at the end, Daniel next to him trying his best to smile, and…she and Jack were sitting next to each other, starting stupidly at one another. Jack had just made some ridiculous joke about the… was it the fries? And she had the biggest grin on her face, like he'd said the funniest thing ever. The camera, which had been on auto-timer, not only caught him staring at her, but it also captured a storm of emotions in his eyes that weren't completely obvious but if you looked hard enough and if you knew the situation, you know that he was thinking about…
Jack turned the pages of the book until he reached the first blank page. He stuck the freshly clipped newspaper article, titled SGC 5 Years Later, on the page. He sighed. Five years? In most ways it seemed so long ago. But it seemed like just yesterday that she'd…
The phone rang.
Jack replaced the book in the microwave/mystery box, got up and reached the phone just in time.
"Hello? General Jonothan O'Neill?" said a woman's voice from the other end.
Jack winced. It scared him when people called him 'Jonothan'—it sounded too… serious.
"Retired. Speaking."
"Oh God, Jack! It's so good to hear your voice!"
"Uh… not to spoil a moment here, but—"
"It's me! Cassie! Cassandra Sull—Cassandra Frasier!"
"Cassie!"
"Yes, Uncle Jack, It's me!"
"Oh Christ, you sound so…"
"I'm older, yes, Jack."
"Well, Cassandra, it's so good to hear your voice, too!"
She laughed, but not whole-heartedly—as if something were bothering her.
"Jack… where have you been?"
There was an uncomfortable silence. Cassie had breached the one… well one of the subjects Jack was hoping she wouldn't. Five years ago, Jack had disappeared to live like a hermit in his cabin in 'the land of sky-blue waters.' He spoke to no one from the SGC, went to no reunions, no birthday parties . . . no weddings
"I've been… here."
"We all thought you were in D.C."
"I was. I left. Retired four years ago." Told no one where I went… except one person…
"Jack, George Hammond is dead."
Their conversation relapsed into silence.
"What?"
"Last night."
"How?"
"He's been sick for three years, Jack."
"No one told me!"
"No one knew where you were!"
Jack felt the sting in her words and was suddenly very ashamed of himself, as a child reprimanded for a stupid mistake. "… I'm so sorry, Cassie."
"He wanted you to be here, for his funeral… it's in Colorado Springs, I hope you still remember how to get here."
"I'll be there." Apparently time didn't heal all wounds... but then he knew that for himself.
"The wake will be held day-after-tomorrow. At Frank's Funeral Home, about twenty minutes from the SGC. 7pm. The funeral mass and burial are the day after that. "
"Thank you, Cassie."
"…You're welcome, Jack."
"I'll see you there."
"Yes… and Jack?"
"Huh?"
"I'm looking forward to seeing you after all these years. So much has changed."
"I know… Bye, Cass."
…T o b e c o n t i n u e d…
A/N: feedback is once again appreciated. Thanks for the great reviews of the first chapter… I just hope you like this one as well. Next chapter will be up ASAP. Thanks again, guys! Also I've fixed some embarrassing typos from the first chapter but these page breaks in this one just... snuck up on me—I have no clue where they came from. Just ignore them. XOXO