Year Three - Snake Queen
Jack O'Neill waved a dismissive 'Thanks' to the airman who dropped him off at home. The Colonel paused in the driveway to look at his house. He had a momentary flash as he wondered if this was real or another Goa'uld mock up. Jack's thoughts returned to the feeling he had had when walking through the familiar, yet unfamiliar halls of the SGC. He explored whether he had the same feeling now – while standing in his driveway. After a moment, he shook his head in disbelief at his paranoia and continued up the drive.
Jack yanked the Domino's Pizza circular from his door handle with annoyance. He wondered if there were any idiots who actually bought pizza based on the bothersome litter attached to doors all across America. Deciding to bring the offending material directly to the trashcan, the tall Colonel walked to the side of the house. As he raised the lid of the can, something caught his eye. He looked at the circular more closely and read about the two for one meat-lovers special. His eyebrows raised and his lips pursed in admiration for the deal. He folded the coupon and placed it in his back pocket for later.
Jack continued into his backyard and decided to enter through the sliding glass door. As usual, when he was home now, he kept the back door partially open. He thought about installing a small door for Oscar, but frowned quickly at the idea. It wasn't like he had a pet for crying out loud, and especially not a cat. No, this was a matter of convenience. Though he wanted to be alone right now, that solitude didn't exclude company of the four-legged variety. They didn't ask questions. They didn't ask how he was feeling about having a fing snake jam itself painfully into the back of his neck. Wasn't the answer obvious? Why did they want him to say it?
Jack eased himself back onto the couch with a sigh of relief. Even when they didn't ask the question, he could see it in their eyes. He had even caught Fraiser looking at him with concern and what looked suspiciously like pity. Carter had looked at him with a knowing look in her eyes. Let her believe what she wanted. But this was nothing like being taken by a Tok'ra. The agony inflicted upon him inside his own head to make him surrender control was unimaginable. This was not like the insidious unfolding of information from the ancient download either. This was more like a spike of pure evil trying to forcefully wedge itself into the core of what was Jack O'Neill. He shuddered in his place on the couch. Now that he was really home, he could explore his actions during the events and determine if he could have done things differently. He had gotten into this habit after each mission to preclude future mishaps.
But his thoughts kept returning to the more recent past on base. Was he avoiding thinking about 'it' like the Quack Doc said? His head raised to look searchingly at the ceiling when today's session came to mind. In the solitude of his home, he remembered how Daniel looked at Jack almost like he had betrayed him. In the mandatory group session led by Dr. MacKenzie, Daniel came to realize that he had started to go through the stages of grief. A grief with which he was very familiar due to the loss of his wife Sha're to Goa'uld possession. It seemed that the two, younger teammates were trying to foist attention on Jack's ordeal and minimize their own to avoid their feelings. Jack didn't want to deal with his feelings on the matter so publicly, so he remained silent during the 'sharing.' His only pleasure was watching MacKenzie get more and more aggravated at what he perceived was Jack's silent sabotage. Teal'c was almost unreadable, but Jack could sense a renewal of his resolve to defeat the Goa'uld. He thought, 'I'm with you there, big guy.' They shared a knowing look while the group continued talking.
The touchy feely gladness from the whole of SGC was unbearable to the returned airman. It seemed everybody was glad to have their premier team back amongst the living. Even General Hammond got into the fray by privately telling the Colonel how relieved he was to have him back. The rescue of SG-1 represented hope in the fight against the Goa'uld and confirmation of their power to defeat this enemy. This morale building Jack could understand, so he tolerated it. Just the same, his forced quarantine on base was agony, and he couldn't wait to go home.
Deciding to take a nap, Jack laid back on the couch and slowly closed his eyes. Sensing that something wasn't quite right, he opened his eyes only to find a large, alien face looming inches from his. Jack involuntarily shouted out, scaring Oscar into retreating a couple of feet away. Jack tried to slow his pounding heart and even out his quick breaths. He placed a hand unconsciously onto his heart. He huffed, "Don't do that!" With his heart rate almost back to normal, Jack took pity on the uncertain cat. "C'mere." The anticipating cat leaped forward and shoved his large, scarred head into the warm human's hand for a pet.
Oscar was glad he hadn't misinterpreted the invitation to visit with his friend. Warm Tall, as the human was affectionately known, had been gone for quite a while on his last hunt. Oscar tried to puzzle why he never came back with his kill. He wondered how big the prey must be and what methods the human used to kill it. He could sense disquiet in his friend and he attempted to provide his calming presence, but Jack was too twitchy to sit still. So Oscar remained quietly in the sidelines . . . not in the way, but not out of sight. He wanted to be available when Jack needed him. For now, he followed the movements with his head and green eyes.
:-x
Jack busied himself by cleaning the house. Thoughts of the last month kept invading his mind. Every time he passed the television, he thought about the painful recall device that sucked images from his head. He avoided dusting his coffee table because it looked too much like the confining platform where he was strapped, waiting to be infested. Jack went to clean the bathroom instead, but the brass fixtures reminded him of the gaudy gold in the hallways of Hathor's base. As he tried to avoid the many reminders of his ordeal, Jack left all his tasks unfinished. He was accomplishing nothing. He finally sat back on the couch in front of the offending coffee table to face his fears. He closed his eyes and his thoughts were invaded by the image of Hathor's hand coming to grab his face with her vivid green eyes in the background. The helplessness and fear he had felt at that moment overwhelmed him just before the memory of the painful invasion came back at full force.
Jack screamed out in rage, "Noooo!" He grabbed the edge of the coffee table and slung it into the television. The resulting explosion spurred on his rage as he began throwing any reminders of the ordeal. The sounds of smashing glass and destroyed furniture were punctuated by obscene curses and barely-recognizable-as-human grunts and growls of rage. Oscar kept himself protected by retreating into another room. He growled in sympathy as he remembered a recent fight with another Tom Cat. Jack's frenzy resembled the blur of fur, claws, and teeth that he had experienced. The noises in the other room were quieting, with longer pauses as the human tired.
Jack felt the tears running down his face as he looked at the mess that was his living room. His breathing had been reduced to shuddering sobs as he sat on the floor in exhaustion. He had his back resting against his overturned couch while sobbing his rage into his hands. The feelings that he had been avoiding overwhelmed him as he loudly cried out his frustration and anger through clenched teeth. Moments after his sobs quieted to out-of-breath sniffling, he felt an insistent, but soft bang under his elbow. He opened bloodshot and teary eyes to see Oscar rubbing the length of his body soothingly along Jack's side. Oscar sat with his tail curled around Jack and the top of his head touching the man's trunk. This resulted in a comical upside down look as Jack lowered his gaze to the cat.
Jack began laughing while tears of relief continued to stream from his eyes. "You're right, cat. It's all okay now." He ruffled the cat's fur affectionately. The airman gave a long, shuddering sigh while looking up at the ceiling - then wiped his face before getting up to straighten out the house.
:-x
As the rest of SG-1 walked into Jack's living room for Team Night, they all noticed the change immediately and paused in question.
Jack acted puzzled by their reaction, "What?"
Daniel was the first to break the silence. His deep frown changed into questioning raised eyebrows. "New TV, Jack?"
Jack stood in the middle of his living room and bounced on his feet with pride. "Yup. I decided it was about time to get a big screen television." His statement was met with silence. He gave a disarming grin. "It's great for watching sports." His smile and the twinkle in his eye caused the two younger members to exchange a dubious look.
Teal'c broke the silence. "I believe the larger screen will display "Star Wars" to greater advantage, O'Neill." Jack raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the comment and nodded.
Though Sam and Daniel wondered about the changes they saw in the house, they didn't question it. They were just glad to have Jack back as himself and whole once again – he exuded familiar peace. They didn't care how it was managed.