Chapter 8
He slept again and dreamt of Antarctica. It was cold, so cold. It sapped all his strength. And there was Sam crushing him; he couldn't breathe. She knocked the air out of him with her brains and youth and choices. And he – just a stupid old fool, dying, while she packed up the supplies as she set out to abandon him. And he let her go; he sent her away. He ordered her toward the light, to safety, to get a life. He ordered her to take everything; he kept the cold and the pain.
She was a little restless and she wondered if he was already asleep. She wanted to snuggle closer; it was so damned cold and the man was usually a furnace. But he was burned; she didn't know how badly and was afraid to touch him lest she wake him or cause him pain.
She wondered when it was that she fell in love with him. At first it was all hero worship, a silly little crush. She could help thinking of the planet where Daniel got addicted to the sarcophagus and the rest of them got sent to the mines. Both Teal'c and the Colonel protected her there, working harder and funneling part of their rations to her. When they took the Colonel shackled hand and foot to have an audience with Daniel she didn't know exactly what emotion filled her as they led him away. It was a mixture of fear and pain and longing; hoping he would succeed in freeing them and panicked that he would die on his knees before the crazed Daniel.
There were also many times he annoyed the crap out of her. Gradually she began to learn the measure of the man. She knew, although this exciting life was extremely perilous, O'Neill would do all in his power to keep them safe. And so the hero worship grew to admiration of the man and the silly school girl crush became caring a lot more than she was supposed to.
He listened to the members of his team, he valued them and their expertise, he brought them home and suffered if he failed them.
It wasn't until Edora that it slapped her in the face and she realized that she needed to step back.
It was in the ship Apophis was building that she knew for sure – no doubt whatsoever - that he loved her. He wouldn't save himself and it scared her. He made the conscious decision to stay and die with her. She loved him and needed him to live. When it did fall apart – or had it… Was ignoring it on her part what smothered their love, killing it in the cold and dark?
He felt her fingertips brush his arm and emotion long buried flooded him with its dreadful sensation. It was the moment he was becoming conscious in Hathor's little SGC mock up, only he didn't know it at the time. They told him it was the future – well he could deal with that. Then they told him they were dead, his team was dead, they were all dead and it hurt. It hurt more than he could speak. He refused to believe it in his heart but the emptiness at the loss of his friends, the loss of her, undid him and he needed solitude. He pushed it away; he sought action to bury his pain and he found her and he could breath again.
Now, now she was gone to him, there was someone else. And it hurt just as bad. And he had to get over it. Grow up, O'Neill. Move on, forget. Fat chance!
It must be these damned drugs that were making him so maudlin; they were also dragging him down to the depths of sleep. And as sleep took him, memory and dreams mingled – he was freezing and holding Carter in his arms. She was hold tightly on to him as well and the feeling of comfort at the thought of just being alive and having each other.
In the evening a young boy brought Sam a loaf of warm bread and a large mug of broth. O'Neill had begun to stir again and she helped the groggy man sit up. She held the mug of warm soup to his lips and he drank. First time he had felt warm in, what, he had no idea. But it felt so good, tasted good; he'd been so cold, so hungry, and definitely better than the bitter medicine she insisted he swallow first. He only then began to realize that his trembling finger were over her hands. He stopped to look at her to thank her and to see if she were hungry and cold too. He was embarrassed at his greed. But she smiled and offered him the soup and he drank it all.
The inner warmth and the quieting of his hunger lulled him back to sleep. He tried to fight it, tried to ask her all the questions that swirled around in his mind. He slid back to the pillows as she tucked the blankets around him. Looking at her he just then noticed that she was not dressed in her uniform. Somehow he though he already knew that but all certainty seemed beyond his grasp. As he drifted off he saw her bend her head to her hands and felt the soft warm fur of the pup under his hand.