Chapter 19:
Jack awoke laying face down on his bathroom floor. He was still clutching the bottle of half empty vodka he had switched to after he finished off the scotch. Not his liquor of choice for getting drunk but it still did the job. It allowed him to forget, even if it was only for a few short hours.
He forced himself slowly into a sitting position against the wall facing the commode. He took another long, deep drink from the bottle. A last hurrah, homage to his binge and everything he tried to forget. And because his mouth tasted like hours old vomit and he did not have the strength yet to pull up to the sink to brush his teeth. His body thanked him by throwing up again.
And his head, well, a Goa'uld hand device felt like a tickle compared to the pain in his head right now. Throw up, check. Massive hangover, check. Ibuprofen for said hangover, coming up. He needed a pee, shower and coffee in that order.
Thirty minutes later he sat at his kitchen table, showered, shaved, teeth brushed, and coffee in hand. He was already miserable. Just as he told Jacob; he was on leave. Forced leave. At first it was only suggested that he take some time off. That was until he punched the new guy in the face for a comment he made about Carter. Asshole. He didn't even know her. How dare that punk think he could replace her?
What the hell was he going to do on a vacation? He couldn't even go to his cabin unless he happened to have a snow plow handy. It was the middle of January and it was Minnesota. No offense to Daniel, who always meant well, and Teal'c, who was like a brother, but he did not think he could take an undetermined number of days hanging out and watching movies. If he was being forced to take time off, he sure as hell was not going to stay here.
Decision made, he grabbed a duffle bag, threw in some clothes and left. If they wanted him gone, he would go.
He was in Kansas on I-70 somewhere between the state line and Wichita when his cell phone rang. "That didn't take long," he muttered to himself as he contemplated whether he was going to answer. He really wanted to let it keep ringing or better yet just throw the thing out the window and keep driving. He already knew who it was. Daniel.
In his not so subtle way, Jack knew he probably drove to his house on the pretense of just being in the neighborhood. He may or may not have dragged Teal'c with him. Maybe since they were already there, they would have a few beers and maybe they would end up talking about what happened with the new guy and then maybe it would drift over to the real issue. And maybe he was not in the mood. The phone kept ringing.
They probably were still at his house he surmised, panicking. Well, Daniel was panicking and Teal'c was being Teal'c. Damnit.
"Yes, Daniel," he finally answered before his voice mail picked up. He tried for his best 'everything is fine' voice.
"Jack." Daniel tried to play it off, but he could hear the panic.
"Daniel."
"Where are you? Teal'c and I were just in the neighborhood and stopped by your house. You're not answering."
"Right. I'm not there."
"Where are you?"
"Driving."
"Um…okay, where are you driving?"
"I don't really know, somewhere in Kansas."
"Kansas? Seriously?" Daniel questioned, clearly thrown by the response.
"Yes, Daniel. I'm on vacation. Remember?"
"Right. So, where're you headed? Minnesota?"
"Nope." There was a long silence as Jack did not offer any further information.
"You're not going to tell me are you?" Daniel finally asked taking the silence as his answer.
"Daniel," he said sighing wearily. "I know what you and Teal'c are trying to do. I appreciate it, but right now I need to be alone. And before you ask again, I don't know where I'm going. I'm just driving. When I get too tired, I'm going to stop, sleep, get up and drive some more."
"Do you really think that's such a good idea?" Jack could hear the concern in his voice.
"What? Take some time off? It's what everyone, you included, has been trying to get me to do for the last six months. So, I'm taking some time. I'm officially on vacation."
"I know, but…"
"Look, Daniel, I've got to go. I'll call you when I finally get to where I'm going."
"Where ever that is," Daniel replied, clearly not liking the cryptic answers or non-answers he received.
"Right," Jack said ending the call. He threw the phone over on to the passenger side of his truck and kept driving. Five minutes later the phone rang again. "Damnit, Daniel," he said loudly and grabbed his phone.
"What?" He barked.
"Colonel?" He heard the voice drawl his name over the line.
He immediately sat up a little straighter in the seat. "General?" He said through a grimace when he realized who was on the other line. "Sorry, sir, thought it was someone else."
"No need to apologize, son."
"So, General, what can I do for you? Has my leave been rescinded already?" He joked.
"Afraid not, Colonel."
"Right, just checking."
"I just wanted to call and see what you plans were."
"Plans?" He asked already thinking the worse. He was going to be court martialed and probably discharged for punching that punk. What a way to end his career.
"Are you going to go to that cabin of yours you're always talking about?"
"Cabin? Oh. Ah, no, sir. It's January, no way of getting up there until the spring thaw. Right, now, I don't have any plans." He chose not to tell the General he was currently in the middle of Kansas driving to some unknown destination. "Did Daniel call you, sir?"
"Dr. Jackson? No, I haven't heard from him since yesterday. Why do you ask?"
"No reason, sir."
"Jack, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have ulterior motives for calling. Whether you like it or not, you need this time off. SG-1 has had a rough fourteen months. I should've done this earlier and maybe the incident with Captain James could've been avoided."
"With all due respect, General, but Carter's the one who's had the rough fourteen months."
"I stand corrected, Colonel," Hammond conceded. "But her ordeal affected all of you as evidenced by your actions against your own teammate."
"He deserved it."
"So no plans?" Hammond asked changing the subject.
"If you must know, General, I'm in Kansas right now."
"Really? Where are you headed?"
"No idea."
"I have a friend who has a beach house. He's always trying to get me there."
"But there's never time when the fate of the world is always hanging in the balance."
"Something like that. Let me call him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you stayed there. It's not the backwoods of Minnesota but I think you'd like it. Quiet. Secluded. Perfect for you."
Jack did not immediately answer as he thought about Hammond's proposal. Seeing as though he did not have a choice about his time off and the fact that he had already decided to go somewhere, Jack made his decision.
"So, where am I going?"
"North Carolina. Frisco, North Carolina."
After two days of driving and a two and a half hour ferry ride, he found himself the sole occupant of a beach front cottage in Frisco, a small community on Hatteras Island located on the North Carolina Outer Banks. Not really known for anything but near the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, the tallest lighthouse in the United States, or so the brochure said in the Welcome Book he found for vacation renters. General Hammond was right. It was everything he said. Quiet. Secluded. Perfect for sulking.
He did not leave the cottage except to take a walk on the beach in the evenings. Often times he would end up sitting in the sand, his only company the lighthouse beacon that streaked across the sky, until late at night. Eventually, he would make his way inside and drink toasting his screwed up life and contemplating his future.
He needed more beer. Jack remembered seeing a convenient store coming off the ferry and decided that today, his fourth day on the island, was the day to explore the area and get more beer. He showered for the first time since his arrival, put on clean clothes, also the first since his arrival. He skipped shaving. He was on vacation he reasoned and headed to his truck.
Click, click, click.
"Damn, damn, damn," he yelled to the empty cab in frustration as he hit the steering wheel for good measure. "Great! Just great. And it's Sunday. Just fucking great." He got out of his truck, slammed the door, and stomped back to the cottage.
He grabbed the phone book and flopped down on the sofa turning toward the Yellow Pages. Nothing. Nothing in the area was opened on Sunday. The only service station Frisco had, according to the ads was Ernie's, and was only opened Monday thru Friday between October and May. Great.
He threw the book down in disgust. After a few minutes of more sulking, which Jack decided he was becoming quite good at, he picked up his keys and headed out the door. He needed beer. If he could not drive, he would walk. It would be just like an off world hike except with a better outcome, beer.
He had been walking for about twenty minutes when he saw the first signs of the town or what you could call a town. A few scattered business, all closed he noted.
Pop saw the man walking down the road. He was obviously looking for something as he watched him stop in front of store fronts and read the business hours posted on windows and doors. He knew they were all closed. Nothing was opened on Sunday, well, except for him. It was eerily reminiscent of the day Sam showed up.
He watched the man wander up to his building and watched his face light up when he read his open sign. Sometimes, he guessed, it was worth opening on Sunday.
He was a good looking man maybe in his late forties; he was not good with ages. He usually judged age as he was old and everybody else was younger. He was tall, looked like he kept himself in shape. Yep, good looking fella.
"Can I help you young fella?" Pop asked when the man walked in.
"Yes, sir. I need beer and a mechanic preferably in that order."
Pop laughed. "I can help you with the mechanic beer'll have to wait until Monday."
"Really?" The man, like most first timers to Pop's, looked at him skeptically.
"Yep. I'm a one stop fix-it shop, toasters to cars. Got the best mechanic in the county. She can fix anything," he said proudly.
"Great. Too bad about the beer, it really would be a one stop shop."
"I'll keep that in mind. Let's go see Sam," Pop said as he headed toward what Jack suspected was the garage, "and we'll see about getting you towed back. She'll have you fixed up in no time."
He followed the owner but had not heard anything after he said his female wonder mechanic was named Sam. What were the chances? Carter would know.
"Hey, Sam." The man said walking into the garage to a pair of legs sticking out from under a car.
"Gimme a sec," came the muffled reply. The wait was short and they heard another muffled, "coming."
She pushed out from under the vehicle. He recognized her an instant before she saw him. There was no mistaking her even covered in grease and grime.
Carter.