[Updated 29/08/2017]
Chapter Eight: Accepting the Truth
Jack O'Neill awoke to air moving down his throat, willing his lungs to breathe. His chest was enflamed and hurt as if someone had beat him for sure.
CPR? Why?
Jack's mind spun in confusion – everything felt blurry and messy. Nothing fit were it should fit and he wanted to scream, a long guttural scream. At that moment, water forced its way up his throat, and raspy coughing carried on for a few seconds, racking his body.
Sand? What the heck is going on?
Gentle hands rolled him onto his side and immediate relief travelled through his body. He could breathe something he immensely appreciated.
"Carter?" O'Neill asked through shortness of breath.
"No. No, you are close. Yet so far." The woman coaxed.
Jack's brow furrowed in uncertainty, and he slowly tilted his head to the woman still rubbing his back in soothing circles.
"Far might be an understatement." The words echoed gravelly, but the woman heard enough to quirk a sly smile.
"Thanks, for the rescue." Jack supplied.
She gazed out over the rippling waves, her eyes softening. "I've never seen a man brave enough to die so that he could escape the ocean."
Oh, so that's what happened.
Jack turned unto his back, his rescuer filtering into view. His heart raced, long eyelashes blinked a few times. He examined her with a soft gaze, this woman could explain away, still, she looked like Samantha Carter without, but he doubted that she was so within. None possessed the same treasure of a mind than the Major.
His hand extended towards her. "Colonel Jack O'Neill." He relayed politely.
Her forehead creased in a frown, eyes scrutinizing the man's courtesy. She decided to stand up from her kneeling position, and then extended her hand to him instead. "You can call me Protector." A beautiful smile reaching up to her eyes, laced her lips.
The Colonel scowled at her vague reply, took her hand, and allowed her to pull him up. Once on his feet, a slight dizziness cascaded inside his head. Clearing his throat, he ignored the spell with a charming smile.
"Ah, okay. I doubt that's your real name, but I'll go with it."
Protector mirrored his smile, which caught him off-guard. Normally, the Major exhibited proper military conduct, yet this woman was unabashed, not afraid to be herself. As this was unreal, he had to keep his distance or his heart would suffer . . . terribly.
The Colonel cleared his throat once more, avoided her gaze, and instead admired the scenery around him. For once, it was not threatening, nor killing him, it was indeed breath taking.
The beach stretched on in both directions with palm trees, mangroves, and green undergrowth lining the interior, while transparent bluish green water lined its exterior. It reflected one of those beaches found in Maui. It was amazing and tranquil at the same time. To the east, O'Neill saw the cliff he had plunged from, it looked exactly like the white cliffs of Dover.
A shudder crawled down his spine, that cliff was the reason he had plunged to his death.
Jack's brown eyes combed the beach once more, shifting the near death experience from his mind. It suddenly came to him that this was exactly how he had pictured it in his dreams . . . his face fell.
With Sam . . . and, Protector here looks just like her, except, her eyes are a different shade of blue, sun-tanned skin and long hair. She is very beautiful.
Du'oh! Concentrate, O'Neill. Get your mind out of the gutter.
The sudden pull on his hand, shattered his internal debate, and his feet walked in tune with the Protector's, as she led him from the beach in the direction of two prominent Palms. They towered above them, gently swaying with the rhythm of the breeze. A five-foot sandy path extended from the guarding giants, and moved amid clusters of jagged rocks and lavish shrubbery that coated the tropic island.
Farther in, he noted the edge of a treeline, and amidst it, a wooden staircase curled around an ancient Red Cedar. An elegant tree house hung ten metres off the ground.
Jack gaped, mesmerized by its beauty, as its appearance reminded him of his log cabin in Minnesota; however, this one enfolded a tree, it's exterior existing of smooth reddish timbers.
It's a thing of beauty! Wouldn't change a thing.
The whole setup seemed too good to be true, his countenance portraying as such. He was like a boy that had received his very first tree house. It was outstanding, rugged, and most probably still had the fresh wood smell. He was curious to see the inside.
Within a few minutes, he was on the deck, overlooking the beach and ocean. This was paradise, the perfect getaway, what dreams consisted of. Jack inhaled a deep breath revelling in the salty smell and calm waves lapping against the shore, and exhaled as feet padded behind him, reminding him of who he now faced.
"Not to sound ungrateful, but why am I here?" His gaze remained fixed on the beach. "I've paid my bill, it's time to go and die in the next scenario."
Nonchalance betrayed Jack's true feelings. He desired to stay here and enjoy this peace. Yet, he had to get back to the desert planet, back to his team. If this were not the goal, he would stay lost in this world's euphoria, and with Protector here, it would be a difficult task to stay on topic.
Why did she have to resemble a familiar face, a person he had come to rely upon in the field?
He needed a way out and she could be the key to his escape.
The woman gazed at him, expression kind, and relayed with voice stern. "Your bravado won't help you with what's to come. The next time you decide to die, you will remain so. No one will be there to save you."
"Is that so?" His eyebrow raised with the question. "Sounds like a threat to me."
Jack turned slowly and faced the woman who stood in the middle of the living room. When she failed to reply, an exasperated sigh followed suit.
"Why am I here?" He asked with more vigour.
Tiredness revealed in his posture. Surviving death seemed to have drained his will to argue, much less antagonize the woman. He wanted nothing more than to sleep off whatever drug was still in his system.
No answer came, so he indulged himself in exploring the interior of the tree house. It held the same dimensions as his cabin, except for the living room and kitchen, which occupied most of the space. Instead of three rooms, there was one main bedroom and another one large enough to hold a bed, and nothing more. One bathroom with all its necessities, situated to his far left.
Overall, it was simplistic, yet elegant in its making. Even the hammock appeared modest on the balcony that extended the width of the house, and reached around its corners to the back.
Movement suddenly drew his attention, his gaze scrutinizing the approaching beauty. Her left hand extended towards his chest and came to rest on his heart. It raced underneath her touch and heat spread along his ribcage. Jack stood astonished, regarding her grey blue eyes. She was treading a fine line he was hesitant to either accept or reject.
"You came for this." Protector said in a gentle tone. A loving smile stretched from ear to ear.
Swallowing nervously, Jack cleared his throat. "I have a heart disease?" He chuckled softly. "Just peachy. And here I thought I was drugged up on something crazy."
Protector laughed, and while removing her hand from his chest said. "No. No, you are here to discover what you are fighting for."
The veteran soldier submitted to her mesmerizing gaze, as it was not every day that a beautiful woman addressed him in such a manner. Therefore, he accepted her consideration and heeded to her reasoning – firstly, because the door had not appeared, and secondly, it had to be another test or trial. Either way, he was stuck. He rather liked the attention.
"Ah, I think I know what I'm fighting for." A smug smile curled his lips. "Been saving my world too." He was definitely acting like a teenager.
"By losing the one thing you should never have given up on."
"Explain?" He softly urged.
A sadness creased Protector's gaze and Jack's charming smile fell.
"You have lost the will to love." Her words hit him like a blow to the stomach, knocking the wind from his sails.
"You're treading dangerous territory, watch what you say next."
He broke the trance, turned, and firmly gripped the deck's railing, stern expression set on the sea. She had no right to stir what did not need stirring, and frankly, her resemblance only complicated the conversation.
Breathe Jack just breathe old boy. She's only doing what's expected of her – whatever that may be.
Whom am I kidding? It's been one heck of a rollercoaster ride and at some point, it has to stop. Hopefully soon, 'cause she's in uncharted waters and I'm not so sure I want to follow. In my opinion, history stays history and that's what Sam has become.
"Listen," Jack began jaw set along with his gaze. "Where I come from, the military forbids a male and female soldier from having a relationship, especially when you're in the same chain of command. It jeopardizes the rest of the unit; good soldiers die because of partiality. Whatever fight you are referring to ended, because the war we're fighting now is beyond our love for one another. We've accepted it. I even encouraged her to move on; she has, and now she can have what I could never give her. That's why I gave up, as you put it."
Wow, did I just say that? There's no way I could have . . .
He glared at her, eyes reflecting the awkwardness he felt. "You're using some kind of voodoo right?" He chuckled nervously. "'Cause I'm sure I wouldn't have confessed . . . to that."
"So you agree that you once did fight for her affection." Protector said.
O'Neill turned, casually leaned against the railing, and crossed his feet, while he folded his arms over his chest. A sly smile followed in addition to a raised eyebrow.
"It was the other way around; endearing at first, until I saw the truth. C'mon, what man would deny that kind of attention, particularly if said woman is beautiful and smart?" His expression fell, as a certain aching tugged at his heart. "Nor can I deny that I was and . . . still . . . might . . ." His brow furrowed as he fought the next involuntary declaration. ". . . I am fond of her."
Crap!
Dang, that shouldn't have happened. There's no way I would've confessed to this, to anyone, not even myself. It's like a truth serum is running through my veins, forcing me to open my mouth and speak. I hate this!
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
Everything's the wrong way around for crying out loud!
"Good, that's a start!" Protector stated confidently.
She knew O'Neill's confession was unintentional. Unfortunately, it was a main factor since entering this world – the Colonel had no option, he was to let go of the things he usually kept to himself.
Jack's head jerked up from where he had stared at the wooden floor. "What?" He questioned gruffly.
The woman disregarded his outburst, strolled towards him, and touched his shoulder. O'Neill schooled an angry glare; he was finished with this, no sentimental confessions, no stoking the fire. Yet it seemed she had other plans, for his world blurred and clear conception faded away like the setting sun over the horizon.
At that point, the memories began. Flashbacks Jack O'Neill could not control, only submit to as it reeled in his dreams.