Title: Manifestations of Fear
Rating: T
Ship: Jack/Sam
Spoilers: None really. Basic knowledge of the show.
Summary: Future fic. It was always the same. He'd close his eyes, and the images of the way he lost her flooded his eyes. Haunting him. Shippy.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the characters, I just manipulate them into situations that my chaotic mind devises.
It was always the same. He could live his life, go about every single day as normal, but at night the images flooded his mind. As soon as his head hit the pillow and sleep engulfed him, he would see it. Graphic and unrelenting. The images assaulting his mind in rapid fire. It was so real. The sound of staff blasts echoing in his ears. The smell of burnt flesh assaulting his nose. And the thick red of the blood clouding his vision.
It was always the same. One, two then a third staff blast would ring out. The last whirling past him as he dived out of its path. Then the fourth, going over him and hitting its target. He would turn his head and he would see her. As if in slow motion, her body would tense first. Her arms flail second, her face registering the blast, the hit, and then she'd start to fall. A slow, agonising drop to the ground. The loud, resonating thud of her body hitting the ground vibrating through him. He'd call her name, and push his battle tired body to its feet, and run toward her.
Ignoring the pain in his knees, he'd drop beside her. His hands automatically reached for her face. Her beautiful face. His eyes were drawn to the line of blood trickling from her mouth, and he couldn't deny the truth he'd known all along. This was the moment he'd lose her.
Her blue eyes looked up at him, shining with unshed tears as he lifted her head into his lap. He felt the wet warmth of the blood that stained her hair, and his eyes closed momentarily, trying to fool himself into believing that this wasn't happening. That this moment was not happening to them and they would get up and walk away. But it wouldn't be their fate. It wouldn't be hers. His fate it seemed would be to live with the ghost of her memory and the beauty of her eyes at that moment. Looking up at him with love and adoration. The images of horror staying with him forever.
But it was the smile that was most haunting. As she lay prone in his arms, her head in his lap, she looked at him and smiled the smile that always made him weak. Their silent communication had never failed them in the field or in life, and it wouldn't fail them now. She loved him. She loved him with everything in her, and even in so much pain, in the last moments of her incredible life, it was him she was loving til the very end. It was her smile she was leaving him with.
There was no need for dramatic whispered confessions on a last breath. The smile she reserved only for him said more than any words ever could. He didn't try to hide the tears that fell from his eyes. Not now. Not in this moment. Holding the woman he loved in the last moments of her life. He could feel when the life left her body, and she exhaled her last breath, her body going limp in his arms. And he knew the moment a part of him died too. It was released with her breath. Following her wherever she was now going. Leaving him alone. Left only with the warmth of her blood seeping through the material of his BDUs to burn his skin. His eyes closed and all he could see was the deep red behind his eyelids. His breathing started coming faster and harder, each intake becoming more difficult as he held her to him.
The pain in his lungs became unbearable, matching the pain in his heart. He opened his mouth, readying to scream. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, preparing himself for the sight of her lifeless body in his arms.
But as the scream of her name left his throat, and his eyes opened, he saw no blood. Only the darkness of his bedroom. And the warmth that trailed along his chest came from the soft arm beside him. The breeze by his ear, her breath as she whispered to him. And the tingle over his heart, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.
"Shhh. It's ok baby. It didn't happen. I'm right here," she whispered before kissing the skin on his neck, just below his ear. His hand instinctively reached for hers. He linked their fingers together and squeezed her hand tightly for a moment.
"Sam?… I love you. So much." His voice strained to say the words he needed to say so desperately, against the lump in his throat. And the unshed tears that shone in his eyes blurred his vision slightly.
"I love you too. I'm not going anywhere Jack. Ever. I promise."
It was always the same. Whenever she was off world. Or home after just barely surviving the latest close call. The images would flood his mind. The times he woke up alone, in DC, he could never get back to sleep. Too terrified the images would assault him again. But when she was home, safe with him in their bed, he would sleep again. With his wife held tightly against his chest. Her breath tickling his neck gently. He could sleep. Because the fear was gone... until the next time.