Chapter Twenty-Three - Trevor
The drive to the White House was tense with everyone a little more aware of what the experience would be like today than they'd all been yesterday. Trevor kissed Grace's temple, one arm looped around her shoulder. She squeezed his hand as it rested in his lap.
Maybe he hadn't lost as much as the other three when he came into this new timeline, but it had been comforting to have Grace reach out to him instead of pushing him away.
They were escorted through the corridors of the White House, and Trevor actually took a moment to look at the symbol of his country as he walked. It wasn't that the building was any more grand today than it had been yesterday. It was just that he'd been so focused on everything that had happened, so focused on the potential threats.
Today, however, he would drink in all the grandeur of the White House before they met with the President.
Dr. Jackson and Colonel O'Neill were debating something outside the Oval Office, possibly the cultural origins of a sport called curling.
Grace rolled her eyes, though she was far from annoyed. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."
Trevor raised an eyebrow, hoping she would further explain, but she just shook her head.
The president walked out of the office, smiling at her guest. "Thank you for coming in, Major Knight. We owe a great debt to our veterans and our military families."
Trevor's ear twitched at the sound of the name. Major Knight.
"It was my pleasure, Madam President. If I can be of any further help, please don't hesitate to call." That voice, higher than he remembered it, stirred some of his earliest memories.
Trevor's head snapped up, apparently winning Grace's attention. "Trevor?"
He couldn't acknowledge her. Had to focus on the man in front of him. With the graying buzz cut. The Air Force dress blues that almost looked like his. The calloused hands. The gold wedding band.
Apparently feeling the weight of Trevor's gaze on them, the major turned, and Trevor's breath hitched. All his military training couldn't have prepared him for this moment. To see his dead father again.
There was no hint of recognition in the man's face. Just a nod. "Captain."
The president's eyes studied Trevor. "Captain?"
Grace squeezed his hand. "Trevor?"
Trevor forced himself to breathe again. Here was his father. A man who did not recognize him in the slightest. That was worse than having lost him after a short five years of good memories. He inclined his head, trying not to notice how the president seemed to stare at him. "Major."
The president's lips lifted in a smile. "Bring your family next time you come to Washington, and we'll give them the presidential treatment."
Knight smiled. "My grandkids would like that, ma'am."
Major Knight gave another quick nod to all the people waiting outside the president's office, then walked away.
Grace leaned in close to him. "Was that—"
Trevor cleared his throat. "Yes."
"But I thought he died."
The president's blue eyes widened as she looked after the major.
"He did."
Grace rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Trevor didn't answer her. Only looked ahead as the president ushered the group back into the Oval Office for another round of discussions about the ethics of rectifying the timeline. A position that seemed a lot harder to defend now that Trevor had seen his father again for the first time in over twenty years.
The Stargate program had taken his father. He should have known that without it, there would be a chance that his father would still be alive and well.
The president's eyes were compassionate, and he guessed she'd figured out some of what had just transpired. "Captain, are you ready?"
Trevor nodded. "As I'll ever be."
They all sat on the sofas in the Oval Office, the president taking a seat at the head of the group. She crossed her legs, the gray stripe of her pantsuit making her legs look even longer than normal. "I think it's fair to assume where we all stand on the issue of correcting the timeline. Those who came from the old timeline are in favor of returning. Those who are from the new timeline, are generally, in favor of keeping this one."
Trevor didn't allow his emotions to show on his face. Whatever the president decided was going to be how it went. He'd learned that much from his fairly short military career.
"Frankly, I didn't sleep last night. This dilemma kept rolling around in my head. On the one hand, it seems cruel to ask our newcomers to give up any hope of seeing their loved ones again just because they were intelligent enough to crack a technology which has eluded us for years. On the other, there are people alive today who wouldn't be alive if the Stargate program had been operational."
The president looked at Trevor. "Am I correct in assuming Major Knight was one of them?"
Trevor's throat thickened, and he bobbed his head once.
The president sighed. "Your argument that we should not leave the rest of the galaxy in the hands of the goa'uld has been compelling, but I'm not sure that it's enough to convince me that we need to go back in time again."
Grace stiffened beside Trevor.
The president straightened. "To that end, I will be negotiating with the Egyptian government to get control of the ring or at least work in tandem with them to get an international program up and running. Any intelligence you could give us to assist us in destroying the goa'uld threat would be appreciated."
Jacob started. "But—"
The president silenced him with a look. "Can you assure me that you can fix this without creating a third timeline?"
Jacob fell silent.
"I'm sorry. I truly am. The best I can do now is get you set up as comfortably as possible. If and when we need your assistance, we'll contact you."
She turned to Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill. "Colonel. If we're successful, you will be reactivated and promoted to Brigadier General. Dr. Jackson, if we can tear you away from your current professional obligations, we would appreciate your linguistic and cultural expertise."
She looked at Trevor. "It sounds like the original SG-1 required the assistance and insights of a theoretical astrophysicist. If everything works out the way I hope, we'll reassign you to the Stargate program on a permanent basis. If not, I'm sure we can find a place for you in the Air Force. The FBI and the CIA will work together to create the appropriate backgrounds for the rest of you to find employment and education in your chosen fields."
The president grew serious. "If and when I get any other information, I will reconsider my stand, but for now, I think we need to make the best of a difficult situation. Please don't do something foolish like trying to do this on your own."
Trevor stole a look across the group at Nicole, but she was trying to appear as stoic as he did. Jacob's expression was tight. Grace's hand gripped his.
If he had to guess, Nicole was most likely to go rogue, but that was mostly because of her family history. He was disciplined enough to follow orders, but the other three members of their party... Every one of them had proven that they were capable of ignoring orders. Even though the president hadn't gone into what she planned to do if they attempted to go rogue, she wouldn't have said anything if she hadn't had an inkling that they might.
No, that last sentence was a warning. One that he hoped the rest of the group had caught.
The room, which had been so full of opinions just last night, almost reverberated with its silence as the president's decision sank into the newcomers.
Grace cleared her throat, and every eye turned to her. "Thank you for your consideration, Madam President."
She sounded almost on the verge of tears.
The president's expression was sympathetic though there was no hint that she would budge from her decision. Not without a serious, new extraterrestrial threat. "Colonel, Dr. Jackson, you're free to go. We will contact you when and if your services are required. The rest of you, Colonel Paul Davis from the Pentagon will introduce you to your handlers and get you settled in your new lives."
Trevor swallowed down bile as the whole group stood and filed out of the room. New lives. How could a hopeful turn of phrase leave him so utterly depressed?