For those of you worried that I didn't explain the 'sting' operation, please know that the explanation will come. It is part of the overall plot. I will not leave you hanging, I promise.
Okay, please be warned – this is full of angst – very full of angst!
"Another cup of coffee hon?" the bleach-blond, overly made-up waitress asked. He was on his third cup and figured he'd better quit. He'd stopped at the little diner after driving for ten hours straight, knowing he desperately needed some caffeine and a break.
"No thank you. Uh, can you tell me where I am?" The waitress looked surprised but pleased. This guy was a hunk all right, although he looked a little care-worn. Maybe he'd be interested in something more than coffee.
"Sure doll. You're in Wallace, Idaho – silver capital of the U.S.A. So, where ya coming from?"
Oh God, he should never have tried to speak with her. He could recognize that gleam in her eye and he was so not interested! Standing up he put his money on the table.
"No where important." With a curt "thanks" he turned and walked out of the diner.
Looking down the small main street he debated whether or not try and find a motel or to keep going. He'd thought about heading across the border into Canada but worried that someone somewhere would track his location as he went through customs. Shrugging, he decided he'd better find a place to stay and rest. He could decide tomorrow where to go.
That's how his entire journey had gone. For the last five months he'd simply driven, never knowing where he'd end up and not really caring. He'd seen more of his own country during that time than he had in his entire life. The sad thing was it hadn't meant a thing. He'd seen things that were stunningly beautiful, awe-inspiring, weird and just plain 'American' and it hadn't so much as left an impression or caused a tiny bit of interest or pleasure.
Mostly he was passing time because he had nothing else to do. He laughed without humor – he actually had nothing left to live for. Long ago, after returning from Abydos, he had promised himself he'd never again contemplate taking his own life. Well, he was sticking to that promise but that didn't mean he had any desire to live.
Somewhere down deep he recognized that he was suffering from severe depression. Considering all that he had gone through in his life it really wasn't surprising. In actual fact it was surprising that he'd gone on so long without being hit before. But even that small bit of self-awareness meant not a thing. He was existing, nothing more.
As he walked to his bike he allowed himself one brief thought about what was happening back in Colorado but then quickly shut that down. Since he'd undertaken this journey to nowhere he'd refused to think about anything or anyone. He drifted from one town to another, one place to another, not thinking, not feeling, not caring.
He allowed himself nothing that would bring pleasure. Actually, it wasn't so much a matter of not allowing– the fact was that nothing did. One of the few refuges he'd had after Charlie's death had been looking at the stars. That was now denied him. It brought too many memories, something he avoided at all cost.
He'd thought at one point on his journey, that physical pleasure would give him some release, some relief from the numbness. He'd gone so far as to find out where he could buy sex. He'd spoken to a woman and had headed off to his hotel with her. It was as she had begun to take off her blouse that he realized he had no interest. He stared at her dispassionately, knowing that there was no way his body would respond, even if he wanted it to, which he didn't. He'd reached for his wallet and gave her a wad of money, way more than she usually got for a night's work and called a cab. That was the last time he'd attempted that. The self-loathing he felt was the first bit of emotion he'd experienced in a long while.
He got on his bike, in Wallace, Idaho, and drove it a small distance to the Daisy Inn. It looked just like the dozens of other places he'd stayed. After paying– with cash as always – he made his way to his room. He took his small pack and entered the dingy space which was like countless others. As he walked in and tossed his pack on one of the beds he had a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Slightly perturbed, he looked around. He noticed that one of the beds was a coin-operated vibrating bed. The slight pang told him that this place reminded him of the motel he and Teal'c had stayed at that time in Montana, when they were checking out Martin Lloyd. Like all other such random thoughts he quickly plucked it from his mind.
Lying down on the bed he closed his eyes. He knew he should probably get something to eat but again, it took too much energy to get up and find something. He could have had something back in the diner but hadn't been hungry. The fact was, he rarely was hungry. He existed mostly on coffee and ate only enough to keep going. He didn't even realize that he had lost so much weight that his normally baggy clothes now hung on him.
He also was suffering pretty severely from sleep loss. When he was sleeping was the one time he couldn't control his thoughts. They'd come randomly and fiercely, often leaving him gasping in pain – emotional, not physical. As a result he avoided sleeping as much as he could. Occasionally, when it got so bad that he knew he was a danger to others, he'd buy a case of beer and drink himself into a stupor. Other than those few times he stayed away from alcohol, knowing that eventually that would only cause the pain to get worse.
He let himself wonder, for a few brief moments, if people were looking for him. He had done as he promised and had sent the occasional message to George, letting the General know he was alive. His notes simply said exactly that – "I'm alive. J. O. and arrived without any indication of where they'd come from." He knew it was thoughtless and unkind but really, what else could he say? "Hi George, having a great time. Wish you were here." No, George knew he hadn't blown a hole in his head or anything like that and that was all he needed to know. The less he worried about his former officer the better. He figured that pretty soon people would forget Jack O'Neill and would simply go on with their lives. He wasn't worth much anyway.
He heard some kids outside his door and idly got up and peered out the window. He could see them looking at his bike but they weren't touching it so he didn't mind. He'd sold his truck, knowing it was too conspicuously 'him' and had purchased a Harley touring bike. It was something he had often dreamed of doing. He briefly thought of Sam and his conversation with her about riding across America on their bikes. It had been a fantastic dream but, like so many of his dreams, had never and would never come to fruition.
For some reason, he was feeling particularly maudlin tonight. The memories seemed to be poking their noses in no matter how hard he tried to keep them out. His thoughts flipped back to Sam and the way things were going before everything went to hell.
He'd been transferred to Washington and she'd gone to Nevada to work at Area 51. For the first time they thought it might just be time for 'them'. They'd taken things slowly, agreeing that rushing into a relationship would be dangerous. They needed to discover each other as people, as friends, not as commander and subordinate. Still, even though it was slow it was exciting and exhilarating. They talked regularly on the phone and sent little daily emails to each other. They were slowly connecting in a way that was new and different, but equally as meaningful. They had even begun to hint at a life together. After a few months it had finally taken the next step – they planned to go away together for the Thanksgiving weekend – when suddenly it had all gone wrong.
To this day he quite couldn't figure out why. Like he'd said to George, he would have bet his last dollar that SG1 would support him and believe in him. He hadn't doubted for even one second. Oh, he hadn't been happy when Thor had approached him and asked him to help route out the corrupt Asgard faction that had started to cause real trouble. He'd insisted that his former team be contacted and informed what was going on. Thor had resisted but then agreed. It was only when Jack realized that they were off-world on an extended mission and that the issue was urgent, that he'd agreed to go ahead with it.
He'd promised himself, and Thor, that he'd contact SG1 as soon as they were back and tell them what had happened. That was the reason he'd gone to the SGC, to talk to them. He could remember clearly the shock he'd felt when he'd received the message through Landry that they would only see him if ordered to do so.
Not understanding, but thinking that it must be some kind of joke that Daniel had perpetrated he'd walked down to the archaeologist's office. He was planning to go see Sam afterward and surprise her with a gift he'd had made for her. When he walked into Daniel's office it was to see all three members of SG1 standing there. He was so pleased to see them that he didn't, at first, notice their expressions.
"Hiya campers. Long time no see."
"General", Teal'c was the only one to answer.
"So, what's up? Didn't want to come up to see me?" He still thought it was all a joke. As the silence grew he began to feel uncomfortable. It was then he noticed the blank look on their faces.
"Hey! What's up guys? What's wrong?" He was seriously worried that something had happened, something that he hadn't heard about due to his little adventure with Thor.
"You tell us General." Daniel spoke softly but without emotion.
"Tell you what?" he asked, confused. "What's with you guys?" He looked at Sam, hoping she'd fill him in. She answered him all right, just not the way he'd expected.
"We found out General."
"Found out? Found out what?"
"What you did. Thor told us – no, he showed us. How could you?" she asked, also softly but this time with emotion in her voice. Unfortunately it was not the kind of emotion he had hoped to hear from her.
"How could I what?", he asked, a dreadful sinking feeling in his chest. He began to get an inkling of what this might be about.
"How could you betray everything we've worked for, fought for all these years? What about all the people who have sacrificed themselves to make this a safe place for all of us and then you throw that all away? I'm ashamed to say I even knew you. No – I take it back, I guess I never did know you." She turned away, unable to go on.
Jack looked then at Daniel, hoping to see something, some sign of friendship or the affection he'd always counted on. There was nothing. As a last hope he turned to Teal'c, the man he considered a brother, the man who had fought at his side for so long. Teal'c said nothing either; he simply turned his back on Jack.
Jack stood there a moment longer, now knowing what it felt like to die while still breathing. He slowly moved, feeling a thousand years old, and left. He didn't try to tell them the truth, didn't try to convince them. No, his friends, his former friends, had killed whatever trust and belief he'd had.
As he walked away from Daniel's office he took the small package he'd brought with him, the necklace he'd had made on Orilla, - a tiny circle with a deep blue stone in the middle - and dropped it in the garbage. He then walked out of the SGC, knowing he would never return.
Dropping the curtain, forcing the memory back into the little box of hell he kept at the back of his mind, he returned to the bed and lay down. Maybe tonight was a drinking night, he thought. With the way the memories kept popping up he was going to need something.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
It had been almost six months. Six months since she'd seen the man she loved and stabbed him in the back. It had been six months of hell and it wasn't getting any better.
As soon as she'd realized what they'd done she'd spoken with Teal'c and Daniel. It had taken surprisingly little to convince them. When they'd seen the proof of what Jack had done they'd been shocked, shocked and horrified. But it had been Thor who had shown them; Thor who was their ally, their friend – and a huge fan of Jack O'Neill. If it had been anyone else they would have laughed and not believed. But, because it was Thor and because he had shown them irrefutable evidence they had all decided that Jack was guilty.
To this day she couldn't figure out why. Why had they even for a second considered it might be true? They knew him, they had believed in him but so quickly they had turned on him. She could still see his face as they'd condemned him, one by one. It was the face of someone who saw everything they believed in, everything they hoped for, come crashing down around their feet. The remembrance of his face kept her up night after night until she too suffered from loss of sleep. She was also thin, too thin, but it didn't matter. She deserved to suffer. She had destroyed the best thing in her life.
They had tried. Immediately after they realized what they had done they tried to make it right. They'd asked for leave and had flown to Washington. When it was clear he was gone they'd gone to Minnesota, sure they would find him at his cabin. It was locked up tight, no sign of anyone having been there for a long time. They spoke to a neighbor who said Jack had told him he wouldn't be back, that he was thinking of selling the place. A shame, the neighbor said, it'd been in the O'Neill family for generations.
Where could he be? They'd tried everything they could think of. They'd even enlisted Barrett's help, sure that the NID would know where he'd gone. But they didn't know either. Finally, in desperation, she'd arranged to see the President. He had agreed to see them but could tell them nothing. He hadn't been friendly – he blamed SG1 for the loss of his best General – but they could tell he wasn't lying. No one knew where Jack O'Neill had gone.
They had visited General Hammond who had refused to say anything at all. When he realized how terrible they felt, how remorseful, his attitude towards them had changed and thawed. He was their friend and he forgave them but still told them he could say nothing.
No, he didn't know where Jack was either and even if he did he wouldn't say. He'd promised, he said. It was the only thing Jack had asked of him and he owed the man that much and more.
They realized, then, the extent of the pain they had caused. They understood that Jack was lashing out at them – it was the one way he had now of causing them pain. He knew that they would realize, that they would learn that he was not guilty, that they had accused him unfairly, and he would know that they would come looking for him. By disappearing, by refusing to let them hear whether he was even alive, he returned the pain they had caused ten-fold. He caused them to suffer as he had suffered.
They understood and they accepted. They knew that they deserved this pain. But still, they searched.
"Anything Sam?" Daniel looked like he had aged ten years. Gone was the fresh-faced young man full of principles and wonder. In his place was a weary, guilt-ridden man.
"No, nothing. Landry spoke to me again."
"What did he say?" Daniel asked, with little interest.
"He wants us to stop. Said he wouldn't allow us to waste more time looking for Jack; that the General obviously doesn't want to be found and we should leave him in peace. He told me that we were to return to full duty status or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else we'd be reassigned."
"What did you say?"
"I resigned. I'm finishing out the week and then I'm out of here."
"And he just let you go like that?"
"No, he argued. Told me he wouldn't accept it."
"But?"
"I asked him what was the point of keeping me – I'm no good to the program or to anybody else. Doc won't let me off-world and I haven't exactly been productive in the science department. I think he realized it was no use keeping me on."
"So he's let you resign?"
"No, told me I could take personal leave – as much as I wanted. I think he's hoping I'll change my mind and come back."
"And do you think you will?"
"No. This isn't my life anymore. I don't want any part of it." She reached for the chain around her neck and rubbed the small object hanging from it. She knew it had become a tic, a habit she couldn't stop, but it was the one thing that gave her a small bit of comfort.
The day after they'd condemned Jack one of the cleaning staff had approached her. He told her they'd found a small package with her name on it in one of the garbage cans. Curious, she took it and had instantly recognized Jack's sprawling handwriting. She didn't know what to do with it, still so angry she almost tossed it out. Something made her put it in her pocket, but she refused to open it.
It wasn't until after she'd realized what they'd done that she remembered the small package. She'd run to her room and searched until she found the pants she was wearing that day and which were at the bottom of her hamper. Grabbing the package out of the pocket she ripped it open. A small note fell out. On it was written a simple message, "It reminds me of our journey and your eyes; of where we've been and where I hope we are going - together. Wear it with my love, Jack.
She'd sat down on the bed and had cried until there was nothing left in her. She determined, that day, that she wouldn't rest until she found him.
"So, what are you going to do?" She was brought back to the present by Daniel's voice.
"Do? I'm going to find him, that's what I'm going to do."
"Do you want some company?"
"What about your job here?"
"I quit yesterday. I just came in to clean out my things. I planned to find him too."
"What about Teal'c?"
"I am coming as well Colonel Carter." Teal'c had entered her room as they were speaking. She looked at him and bowed her head once, in acknowledgment. He solemnly returned the gesture.
"Good. Come to my place this evening and we'll decide what we're going to do."
As Sam looked at the friends who were like brothers she reached up and again touched the necklace that was like a talisman around her neck. They each knew they were embarking on a difficult journey, probably the most difficult one they'd ever undertaken. But, as always, they went fearlessly forward, knowing the reward was worth the battle.