Oscar
Year Five
Stepping out of the men's room, Jack looked up and down the corridor to see if he should continue his conversation, but there was no pesky major in sight. He got the sneaking suspicion that Carter had pulled one over on him, but he didn't have time to investigate the idea. He needed to get back to his meeting with General Hammond. During the less-hurried walk back to his CO's office, Jack contemplated the sorry state of his team.
Daniel was in a snit because he didn't feel his archeological and linguistic skills were being utilized to their fullest on missions. Earlier, over a hurried burrito, he had ranted on the subject with the rapidness of a P-90 on automatic setting. Jack replayed Daniel's outburst in his head. 'We go out on missions to explore possibly the greatest archeological finds of a lifetime – actually more than one lifetime – not that I can ever tell anyone in the academic community about any of it – but that isn't the point – I mean there are whole thriving civilizations that mirror extinct civilizations on this planet, and we barely scratch the surface. Just when I get involved – or as involved as you let me be – because you're always rushing me to hurry up – and you think I'm just looking at rocks – just when I really start exploring, we have to leave. I tried to explain all this to you before the whole time looping thing but you never answered me about your opinion on the subject. I assume it's because it's not as important to you as, say, hockey scores or cleaning your guns and practicing knife throws.' Daniel had stopped at this point to frown – a partially eaten burrito raised in oratory punctuation. He continued with somewhat less enthusiasm as if he realized the ridiculousness of brandishing a burrito at the seasoned airman. Daniel lowered his hand and his voice. 'Jack, what I'm trying to say is that I'm tired of all the soldiering – tired of being rushed through my job – and . . .' he continued more softly '- tired of all the killing.' Jack had been distracted from replying when Teal'c arrived with a tray laden with carbohydrates.
Looking back on the conversation, Jack realized that Daniel had left in a quiet huff since the attention had become focused on making the alien member of SG-1 feel welcome in the commissary. The less-than-surreptitious stares from SGC personnel were downright annoying to the Colonel and probably unbearable to the Jaffa. Teal'c was trying to return to normal after his ordeal with Apophis, but he was constantly reminded of his defection by the untrusting looks he received. Though Teal'c outwardly appeared unaffected by the stares, Jack suspected they were painful. It had taken years for the former First Prime of Apophis to earn the trust and respect of base personnel. Now that trust had been severely shaken, and it wouldn't be easy to reclaim his former position. It didn't help that O'Neill himself was keeping a close watch on the recently returned warrior. One could never be too cautious. It was important to Jack that his trust in Teal'c be absolute, while on a mission he was entrusting not only his own life, but the lives of Carter and Daniel as well.
Jack hesitantly knocked and entered his CO's office. The balding man was still on the telephone. As he was gestured to take a seat by Hammond, Jack thought back to Daniel's accurate assessment of an archeological career – hell, any scientific career – while on SG-1. He grudgingly admitted that the younger man's complaints were valid, but only because Jack was doing 'his' job of protecting Daniel and Carter while they were doing 'their' job of scientific research. Though he made it look easy, Jack O'Neill's job was a precarious balance between staying long enough to allow his team to gather valuable information in their fight against the Goa'uld and staying longer than was prudent without additional backup. Because the Goa'uld had dominated the galaxy for so long, they had an extensive network of Jaffa warriors who had nothing better to do than to monitor activity on old planets – increasing the likelihood they would invade the planet that SG-1 was currently exploring. Because of Teal'c's long experience training and commanding Jaffa warriors, O'Neill relied on him for tactical planning. The Jaffa usually patrolled the outer perimeter due to his extra-sensitive hearing while the Colonel provided much closer protection. Jack was under no illusion that he was irreplaceable – unlike the two National Treasures on his team. At all cost, he and Teal'c needed to protect the two individuals responsible for figuring out the Gate system, advancing Earth's space exploration, and protecting both the SGC and the planet through their expertise in their respective fields.
Speaking of the female member of his team, Jack felt guilty because he hadn't noticed that Carter was breaking under all the stress. He had failed in his duty to protect this valuable member of the SGC. He was very aware of the precious cargo Hammond had entrusted him to protect. The silver-haired airman's stomach turned with regret because he had failed to do so. Sam had always been so strong that he never considered it a possibility that she would need help. Her nervous breakdown – or whatever it was – on the planet could have been avoided if he had only been paying attention. With good intentions, they put her through the embarrassment of wire tapping her house only to find out that it was all probably a hallucination. Despite this 'fact', Jack kept an open mind, but all the intel appeared to negate alien invasion. Though he worried about her current state of mind, he knew the Major's condition was beyond his area of expertise. Janet and her medical team would have to address this situation. In this case, he would have to leave Carter in their very capable hands.
And then there was the matter of Teal'c. Ever since his capture and brainwashing by that scum sucking snake, Apophis, Teal'c had not been reinstated to his hard-won ability to leave the base and wander Earth's surface – even with an armed escort. General Hammond was on the telephone right now with the Joint Chiefs trying to get permission for an excursion away from the SGC. Despite all the Jaffa had done for the planet, they were balking. From a strictly strategic point of view, Jack realized that they were correct. But that still didn't prevent him from sticking his neck out for a member of his team. Unfortunately, right now, he only had one neck and it was sticking out so far it was in danger of dropping his head off. Daniel and Sam would have to wait and care for themselves. O'Neill reasoned that Teal'c was the only alien member of the team and thus needed more intervention by his CO.
Jack refocused his attention to the here and now as it seemed Hammond was nearing the end of his conversation. The junior officer fixed eager eyes on his CO's face to see if he could determine the outcome of the telephone call. It sounded like the same call. This was much more promising than the flat out rejection of a week ago. Both airmen had weighed the strategy of exactly how long to wait between requests – too soon and they would risk a flat out, 'No.'
"Yes sir. I'm aware of that. Yes, sir. We'll do that . . . . I know that, sir. Yes . . . ." He looked toward Jack and pursed his lips tightly while heaving a silent sigh. It wouldn't do to show impatience with one's commanding officer when one was begging for a favor. "Right, sir. Thank you. . . . You won't be disappointed. Yes . . . . We'll do that, sir." He hung up the telephone carefully and left his hand on the receiver before snapping his head up to look up at Jack. "We got the okay, Colonel, but I think we just traded in the SGC's soul in the bargain."
Jack pulled down an imaginary chain with a loud, "Yessss!" When he saw the censure on the face of his CO, O'Neill regained his composure – as befitting a senior officer – by clasping his hands behind his back. "Uh! Thank you, sir."
Hammond's face was still red from the long and unaccustomed begging that he had had to do. "Jack. I don't think I have to tell you about some of the favors I had to pull in for this one."
"Come on, sir." Jack cajoled, "This is Teal'c we're talking about. He's one of the reasons we have those favors to 'pull in' in the first place." Despite the cockiness of his words, Jack had trouble meeting Hammond's eyes. He risked a direct look.
Hammond's eagle eyes stared at him intensely with a face devoid of expression.
O'Neill was, once again, pulled up short from underestimating the General's intelligence. He resorted to using the Eddie Haskell School of compliments to deflect attention. "Right! Sir, thank you for all your supreme effort." That tactic resulted in an annoyed wave of dismissal from his CO. After walking to the door and touching the doorknob, the Colonel turned as an afterthought. "Oh and you are the other reason we have those favors to pull in, sir." The general's pursed smile of disbelief let him know he may have gone too far. He obeyed the silent command to get the hell out of Hammond's office.
Jack continued into the hallway and quietly closed the General's door on the way out. He again pulled the chain with a more quiet, "Yessss," then continued down the hallway to break the news to the big guy. He wondered what Teal'c would want to do with his first outing planet side since his abduction. If Jack had his way, they would do a team thing. God knows they could use some bonding. Now that Teal'c was on his way to becoming trusted again, he could concentrate on the other members of the team. Maybe they could get a pizza and watch a movie at Carter's house. They hadn't had team night in a long time.
In response to the invitation, the Jaffa responded, "O'Neill. Should we not ask Major Carter first before arriving at her home?"
Jack tried to convey assurance with a slight smirk. "Ah come on. This is Carter we're talking about. Remember? I had to order her to get a life." He put his arm around the Jaffa's shoulders. "Besides, she told me she missed you out there." He jerked his finger up toward the surface and left it there. He looked at the tip of his finger and frowned before shaking his hand down and walking purposefully out the door. Teal'c raised his head and sighed stoically. Though O'Neill could be annoying at times, the younger leader of SG-1 had procured permission for him to leave the confines of the base.
Jack flipped his cell phone closed with a snap. He had grabbed the phone back from Teal'c after losing the gamble that the archeologist wouldn't refuse his alien friend. Jack would have to climb that bridge later. "Well, Daniel can't make it tonight either. We're on our own, my man."
Raising his face to the peaceful Colorado sky, the alien's slight smile remained un-dimmed. Nothing could ruin this evening for Teal'c. He was just pleased to be off base. These were his people now, and this was a giant step toward the trust from them that he craved.
Jack O'Neill returned home and, for once, left the sliding door fully closed. He needed to be alone without distraction. The sickening feeling that he was losing the cohesion of his team was at the forefront of his attention. When he had asked Daniel to join them, the archeologist had stated distantly that he was too busy. And Carter was being downright and uncharacteristically secretive about her date. Neither of them seemed overly interested in making Teal'c feel welcome back planet side. This distance was unusual for the closely bonded team. Jack considered the idea that it might be time to break up the band. This team had been together much longer than any team on which he had served. But the airman quickly rejected the idea. Despite their current emotional distance on Earth, the team dynamics when operating through the Gate was still functional.
Deep in thought, Jack was oblivious to the furry gray critter sitting patiently outside the closed sliding glass door.
:-x
Colonel O'Neill looked into the earpiece of his telephone before blaring, "Carrterrr!" He tested to make sure his ear would be safe from further assault by tentatively placing the receiver back to his ear. The dead silence could only mean one thing – his favorite 2IC was self-righteously insulted by his outburst and had shut down into her hurt state. He was just glad that he wasn't in the same room to see it. His team had quickly learned that their tough CO had a soft spot and they weren't afraid to use it to their advantage. Thus, his strategic maneuver to address this situation over the telephone. Unfortunately for O'Neill, he no longer needed to see his team to see how they were reacting. If he knew his blond Major correctly, her big, blue eyes were rounded into shiny hurt saucers at being reprimanded; she was unused to and uncomfortable with any kind of censure from her CO.
The current conversation was a direct result of the incident with Orlin. The NID had been waiting for any reason to attack the SGC's administration, and the incident with Carter had provided the ammunition. The Major had disobeyed Jack's very public order to keep in radio contact, and had, instead, followed the descended Orlin out through a Stargate in her basement. The Powers That Be decided to use the incident to tighten the thumbscrews on George Hammond and the SGC by claiming a blatant lack of discipline in the ranks. Due to the NID's involvement, the President was handed a pile of manure – which he slid down onto the Joint Chiefs. They in turn promptly sent it down the chute to the commander of the SGC. The General had no choice but to make a public show of suitable punishment by confining her to base. O'Neill shook his head. It was ironic that she was finally getting a life, and now they took it away. Not that dating a technically dead Ancient was getting a life, but . . . . Considering how smart the blue-eyed powerhouse was, no mere mortal could probably earn a place at her side. Jack had to hand it to her. When she screwed up, she screwed up big.
Realizing the silence had gone on long enough, the Colonel returned to the telephone conversation with a much gentler tone. "Look Carter, I've been in hot water so many times, I can show you how to swim without having your clothing shrink." He decided the situation might need a little self-deprecating humor to ease her worries. His voice rose in pitch and cracked with off-handed sincerity when he continued. "Just lay low for a while. The next time you save their squirmy little butts, they'll forget all about this." Jack looked up to the dark wooden rafters in his living room and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe they were making such a big deal out of this incident. After all Carter had done for this planet, . . . . He had had to do a lot of fast talking to make sure they didn't place a Disciplinary Notice in her file to mess up her spotless record. She would have been intolerable with misery about that for at least a month. He couldn't afford to have her distracted on missions by such an inconsequential thing. Truth be told, he was kinda proud of her for going against the rules, even though it meant that Carter had lied to him. He had a sudden insight and idea.
He managed to convey just the correct balance of command, humor, and hurt when he continued. "Besides, I'm the aggrieved party here. If anyone should be upset, it should be your CO who gave a very public and direct order . . . that was subsequently disobeyed, I might add." He winced at the angst he knew he would cause her with his delivery. But he needed to distract her from worrying over something about which she could do nothing. He heard a choked gasp from the receiver. A small smirk lightened his face while he waited. He didn't have long to wait.
A contrite voice tinkled from the earpiece. "Colonel. Sir, I meant no disrespect to you."
He remained silent for a pregnant pause to keep her guessing. "Ohhhh Carter! I forgot all about it eleven minutes after if happened. Let's not dwell on it. It's in the past. Hindsight is 20/20. All's well that ends well." He stared intently at a stain on his palm before ending the call on a lighter note. "Hey, if you hear from Daniel, tell him we're still on for Friday, wouldja." He abruptly ended the call knowing that he had successfully distracted her from her worries.
:-x
As Jack arrived home, he had the distinct sense that something was wrong. The lack of birdsong indicated an imbalance in nature that his unconscious mind attributed to possible danger. It was sometimes hard for him to relax on his home planet after being so diligent on another world just hours earlier. Consequently, instead of entering through the front door, Jack slunk around the side of the house. He saw nothing unusual at first glance. Something made him look under his deck. A pair of green eyes stared back at him intently before the pupils widened suddenly and jerked to the side. Jack followed the animal's pointed gaze to find . . . nothing unusual. When he looked back, the green eyes were gone. Damn, he hated when the little rascal pulled that. What he hated more was that he fell for it every time. He had to try that tactic one time when confronting an evil bad guy. He quickly dismissed this strategy as something Maxwell Smart would do to try to trick Sigfreid.
The temporary lull in nature ceased and the normal chattering of the woods returned. Satisfied that there was no danger, Jack turned to enter the back door and almost tripped over the pile of fur at his feet. Oscar didn't jump out of the way as quickly as usual. That's when Jack noticed the blood. "Ah damn it Oscar. Not again." He stepped back to survey the damage. It was apparent from his appearance that Oscar had once again seen the wrong side of a fight with another critter. Over the years the warrior gray cat had appeared on Jack's doorstep for occasional field first aid. After a little clean up, a couple easy meals, and a warm place to sleep, the scoundrel would disappear back into the wilderness. Jack wondered if this was how Janet felt every time he hobbled into her infirmary looking a little rough around the edges. He dismissed the thought – it was way too deep. Besides, he had work to do. He stooped down to pick up the acquiescent feline and gruffly commented, "Come on, the sooner we fix you up, the sooner I can eat." Despite the gruff tone of voice, the silence of his back yard rumbled with Oscar's loud purring. "Wouldja knock it off! Somebody might hear you." Impossibly, the volume of purring increased. Jack O'Neill rolled his eyes and hurried inside with the bundle of fur.
With Oscar resting peacefully, Jack had time to contemplate the latest, disturbing mission. Even now, a small part of him remembered that Lieutenant Tyler was a slim, black man who had been assigned as a member of SG-1. Jack marveled in the fact that he felt such loyalty toward someone he had never met. Somehow, the loyalty he felt toward his team was transferred to the alien. Not that it mattered, because Jack would have protected him just as fiercely had Tyler told him the truth from the start. It was the 'protecting fiercely' that was disturbing Jack at the moment. The sheer number of casualties while trying to get to the Gate added to the toll of dead by his hand. Though the airman was skilled at bringing death, it didn't mean he liked it. Every victory – every death – meant a chance that the victim could have been a member of his team. Not that he would have done anything differently while surrounded by so many Jaffa, but Jack contemplated the circumstances that had brought them into danger in the first place. Their job as the leading exploratory team placed them in potential danger. He knew that each mission was fraught with danger. As he did after each mission, Jack reviewed the successes and near failures of the mission. Part of that review included contemplation of whether the death meted out was unwarranted or unnecessary. He gave a quick nod to himself at the conclusion of the meditation as he reassured himself that the level of violence was warranted due to the sheer number of Jaffa preventing their return to the Gate.
Jack paused before rising from the couch when he replayed Daniel's earlier diatribe about returning to his peaceful archeological roots – away from the killing. With a start, he realized that Daniel, the peaceful, geeky scientist, had probably taken more lives than Jack had when they had first met. The airman slowly shook his head in denial at the mental image of Dr. Daniel Jackson wearing the beret of Special Forces while wearing the frighteningly cold look of a killer. But Jack couldn't escape the fact that the mousy archeologist had changed. He closed his eyes and sighed his grief at the loss of innocence in his friend and colleague. Daniel's rejection of the military made more sense now. This last mission spotlighted the violence that the young scientist was trying to avoid. O'Neill vowed to assist Daniel in re-finding himself as much as possible – as long as it didn't risk safety.
While still sitting, Jack contemplated the fact that Daniel probably thought he didn't listen to him. The airman remembered all the times Sara had thrown her hands up in frustration at her husband's lack of outward response to her verbal expressions of feelings. But just like in his marriage, the airman heard every word spoken by his friend and colleague; it just wasn't his way to be overly sentimental by acknowledging that he cared. He assumed they knew his feelings because he stuck around. Wasn't it obvious?
Oscar was startled as O'Neill exclaimed, "Gah!" The airman quickly reassured the cat with a gentle pet. Getting back to his line of thinking, Jack squirmed inside at the discomforting thought of 'expressing' his emotions. He would rather face down the Joint Chiefs – wearing his underwear! He vowed to work on his friendship skills. How hard could it be? His eyes glazed over with resignation – it was Daniel he was dealing with. But the O'Neills were never ones to back down from a challenge . . . unless you counted the time with Aunt Rose. With a sigh of resignation, he got up to prepare for the evening.
SG1SG1SG1SG1
While looking down through the observation window at the writhing body of his friend, Jack O'Neill contemplated all the opportunities he had missed over the past months to tell Daniel about what their friendship meant to him. And now time was swiftly running out. There was no rescue this time. His best friend was dying before his eyes and there was nothing Jack could do about it. Though no stranger to the pain of losing close friends, it never got any easier. He vowed that this time it would be different. No locker room pats on the back, no jokes to diffuse close moments, and no words left unsaid. He would do it Daniel's way – the way Daniel wanted – needed. O'Neill moved down the stairs with determined, slow steps. His expression was grim. Looking older than he had that morning, Jack's face held an expression of defeat and deep sadness. But the sadness fueled his determination to finally express what he felt for his friend. The medical personnel were used to the look of someone who needed time alone with a loved one, so they gave him sympathetic, gentle smiles before leaving the two men alone.
Jack approached the bed with trepidation. He looked over the electronic medical equipment and incongruously contemplated the fact that he could actually read the things now. What he saw didn't look so good, so he shifted his gaze to the object of the machine's measurements. Part of him hoped he could leave without having to speak, but a bigger part of him knew he needed to do this or he would regret it for the rest of his life – and he already had too many regrets.
"Hey Jack!"
Daniel's weak voice startled the airman. He hadn't expected the archeologist to be awake. O'Neill felt a great internal motivation to lighten the mood like he always did, but he squelched it down in order to complete what he had set out to do. Remembering the last coherent moments with Kawalsky many years earlier, Jack resolved that this occasion didn't deserve lightening. There was nothing to be gained by pretending this wasn't the end of a very important man's life. With deer-in-headlights eyes, Jack croaked, "Hey. I uh, I just wanted to…" Realizing that his very perceptive friend probably knew why he was here, Jack smiled and admitted, "I'm really bad at this."
"Yes, you are." Daniel's weak response confirmed Jack's self-assessment. The acknowledgment contained no judgment. "I hear that Sam thinks the Naquadria might be an important discovery."
Ah! Safe ground. Jack responded with relief. "Yeah, apparently. If we can get some. For what it's worth, I tried to get your point across to Jonas."
"He's in a tough position." Daniel appeared to have difficulty talking through the mummy wrapping of bandages.
Realizing that his friend had changed the subject for his sake, a shot of pain at the pending loss went through the Colonel's heart. It was so obvious at that moment that this man who lay dying understood him perhaps more than any other being on the face of the earth. And he was losing him by the second. Doing the thing he knew how to do best, he reassured Daniel with passion. "You're not gonna take the fall for this. I don't care what's at stake."
"Why do you care?"
The question was unexpected, but it solidified Jack's resolve to finally put into words how he felt about Daniel. "Because despite the fact that you've been a terrific pain in the ass for the last five years, I may have, might have, grown to admire you a little, I think." He winced at the closeness and strength of his own words. Yet at the same time, he was aching inside because he knew Daniel deserved more than this inept expression of friendship.
Daniel's response was sincere. "That's touching."
The airman continued, "This will not be your last act on official record." Jack was getting wound up as he found an outlet for his desire for action. He was programmed for defense.
"Oma."
Jack responded with confusion at the non-sequitor. "What?" Had Daniel just said something profound? Or was he hallucinating? A wall of dismay hit him as he saw that Daniel was no longer aware of his presence. He was mumbling and reacting to a world that Jack couldn't see. His long military experience gave Jack the unwanted distinction of having seen a number of people dying. Eerily, sometimes the dying person would seem to be holding a conversation with people in the afterlife. Was Daniel already gone? Jack wondered if this was going to be the last coherent conversation he would have with his friend?
Despite the very exposed public room, Jack O'Neill deflated onto a nearby stool. He no longer had the energy to stand. He no longer had the energy to wear an unaffected mask. The beginnings of grief were bleeding his strength. Had anyone been able to see his face at that moment, they would have seen an unfamiliar sorrow. It's not that Jack O'Neill was unfamiliar with sorrow; it's just that it was usually kept hidden. He wasn't ready to let his friend go. Not like this. Daniel deserved more. The silver-haired man felt like he had just been sucker punched. All the fighting in the world wouldn't bring back his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the window above the deathbed. He nodded acknowledgment to General Hammond before rising from his seat with a heavy heart.
:-x
Jack mostly felt numb. This loss was so much more devastating than any he had felt in a while. He had vowed not to get close enough to anyone to risk being hurt so badly again. So he clung to the knowledge that he wouldn't have to say goodbye to this friend. Daniel wasn't dead. If it was a false hope, then so be it. He could escape the pain and loss. All he had to do was keep busy. Jack carefully picked up the cat from his lap and gently placed him on the floor. He didn't pause as he went to grab his gear to report back to the base. What he and the rest of SG-1 needed was to go back out there on a mission. If he kept busy it wouldn't hurt so much. If he kept busy, grief wouldn't have a chance to settle into his being. If he kept busy, maybe he could pretend his friend wasn't gone.
TBC