He stood at the window of the briefing room looking at the Gate. It was 0400 and although he knew that it was mid morning on P4X 678 in his minds eye it was night and she was sitting by a fire talking to him. Not that they talked much any more, not since that night in her lab when he felt his world crashing around him and all he could do was push her away. Most nights he was so Goddammed tired that he didn't have to put himself through this. Then there were the nights like tonight where he was awake waiting for a team to return and he'd feel her absence like a physical ache. He hated that he had to send them out there without him, hated the waiting for them to come back, the bile that rose in his throat as the gate techs called out that it was SG-1's iris code. He would hold his breath and hold back the fear until he saw all three of them exit the Gate then count their limbs and look for injuries. Sometimes the fear was so great he'd snap at them as they reported in and he'd see the disappointment on Carter's face and puzzlement on Daniels. Teal'c would only stare and do the eyebrow thing.
He missed their conversations. They almost never went off world together any more, so there were no night watches to share. Since Pete had been on the scene he never phoned her when she was off base unless it was an emergency – and even then he would almost always have Daniel, Teal'c or Walter call. Their new ranks had meant more work for both of them and less time to spend just talking – late nights at the base usually were spent ploughing through the stack of paper on both their desks, not the companionable chatter they had got used to. He knew that he had changed; got quieter and harder again more like the man who had taken the first Abydos mission, although not suicidal as he had been then.
He stifled a yawn and a few moments later Walter appeared beside him with a cup of coffee. Taking it with a smile of thanks he allowed his mind to drift as he contemplated the Sergeant. O'Neill had a sneaking suspicion that Walter's name wasn't really Walter. The man was morphing into the character Walter "Radar" O'Reilly from the TV show MASH with his little glasses and spooky ESP thing. He realised that "Walter" was starting to twitch nervously under the speculative stare of an extremely unpredicable one star general and so directed his gaze back to the Stargate.
O'Neill's mind wandered again to the ancient ship and the time device inside it. For the hundredth time he tried to work out where he would need to go back to, to fix it all. He replayed over and over again the grin he'd got when he made the ship work. He didn't see her smile much anymore and that grin was going to have to sustain him for a long time. He didn't think there would be much to smile at in the days to come. His soldier's instinct was telling him that something bad, really bad was coming. It was going to take every ounce of their strength and courage and he didn't see how they could all come through it unscathed. All he could do was prepare them as best he could and make sure they had all the support the SGC could provide. All he wanted was to have her at his side and yet he knew that if they were going to win this fight he would have to send her out there, into harms way.
So he waited, sad and wistful.
But wait, there's more..