Title: Empty Words
Author: annaK
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.
Rating: Kid Safe
Spoilers: "Revelations"
Classification: S/J, Angst
Summary: "He has never been one for words."
Many thanks to Rowan for the super-beta!
**
Empty Words by annaK
**
Three days since Daniel went glow-ball and she still won't meet his eyes. He
realizes he needs to fix things, really fix things, not just keep cracking
jokes until he makes her smile. But he has never been one for words.
On the fourth day, the Asgard call, and he accepts the silent reprieve. They
gear up in silence, and he pretends not to notice the bitterness behind her,
"Ready, sir." He pretends not to feel sick when he automatically packs a
spare pair of glasses.
He realizes he needs to fix things, but he's never been one for words.
**
There is a relief in finding Thor alive that he didn't quite expect. It's
not a cold, strategic victory; it's a momentary sense of things going right.
He is a soldier, trained to protect.
He may have let Daniel down, but at least there is three foot nothing of
little gray alien he might be able to save.
Another three foot nothing of little gray alien is expected to watch
Carter's six. He knows this is not good enough, but recognizes the futility
of pointing this out. So he makes a joke instead.
Nothing will ever be good enough again.
**
It is strangely comforting to escape from a Goa'uld cell and run around a
mother ship with Jaffa on their tail. It is normal. It is SG-1.
Carter the hologram is oddly entertaining, and he walks straight through. He
knows the slight twitch of her lips may have been a ripple in the illusion,
but he likes to think she smiled.
And then the image is gone in a sparkle of blue, and he takes a second to
pray he won't have to remember her as the woman he was only allowed to touch
when she wasn't really there.
**
The mission ends with a whimper instead of a bang, and he hopes this isn't
because an ascended being is watching their asses. He has always enjoyed the
fireworks.
Carter is quiet and subdued, sitting with her back against the far wall of
the Tel'tac, knees hugged tight to her chest. He recognizes the position
like he recognizes all of Carter's body language. It manages to scream 'stay
away' and 'hold me' at the same time. He has always been better at following
the first.
He takes a moment to stare out at the passing stars and wonder if Daniel's
out there.
When his gaze falls again on Carter, her head is on Teal'c's shoulder, the
Jaffa's massive hand rubbing infinitely tender circles on her arm.
He stares at the stars and looks for Danny.
It should be his shoulder she's leaning on, his hands in her hair.
**
Teal'c follows him to the locker room after the briefing, and he knows
what's coming. So he talks a mile a minute about anything and everything,
and eventually he's making deeply meaningful statements about the color of
the walls. He's almost glad to be interrupted. Almost.
"I believe you should speak with Major Carter."
"There's nothing to say."
"I do not believe Major Carter feels that to be true."
"She's Carter. She'll be fine. Dinner?"
The Jaffa nods in acceptance, and, being Teal'c, does not press. But Jack
knows there's much, much more to say.
He's getting tired of the lies.
**
He's had a few beers, but he's nowhere near drunk, so the fact he's having a
full blown internal argument with Daniel Jackson should probably worry him.
He started cursing the archaeologist-come-glow-ball shortly after the breeze
that wasn't a breeze (and he had expected something more original from
Daniel than a 'spooky' draft) followed them into the elevator.
And then he started talking back. Not
ascended-Daniel-with-powers-to-communicate-telepathically, but Jack O'Neill.
He's talking to himself and the side he recognizes as his conscious is
mimicking the late archaeologist.
It should probably worry him, but Daniel Jackson ordering him to stop being
an idiot and talk to Sam Carter is nothing if not ordinary.
The evening is awkward. She occasionally speaks, but he can tell her mind's
miles away. They split the check and Teal'c receives a goodbye hug. Jack
receives a muted smile.
Probably time he listened to Daniel.
**
Her house is quiet when he arrives, the street outside near deserted. The
lights are off and he wants to presume she's asleep and walk away, but the
voice in his head calls him on the cheat.
He needs to fix this.
He knocks twice and listens for movement, something like nervousness
bubbling under his skin. And then the hall light flickers on, and she's
there, velvet soft in sweats and a shirt. He wonders if she'd push him away
if he tried to hold her.
He pushes his hands into his pockets and thinks of something to say.
"Sir?"
He wonders what he'd do if she slammed the door in his face. He thinks he'd
be relieved. He thinks he'd die inside.
"Carter, I have no idea what to say." They always say honesty's the best
policy.
"Don't worry about it, sir. Goodnight." She still won't meet his eyes and
the door's half shut before he reacts. A foot in the house and he expects
her to curse him, expects her to order him off of her premises, expects her
to keep pushing at the door until it's move back or lose his foot. He
doesn't expect her to slump against the wood.
The tears terrify him.
"Please, sir, just go."
He never knows what to say to a crying Carter. Talking was Daniel's
department.
Jack O'Neill is a man of action. So he acts.
"C'mere."
He pushes through the gap in the door and pulls her to him, buries his face
in her neck and tries to breathe. The hands on his chest still push him
away, so he kisses her shoulder where her shirt's slipped down, holds on a
little tighter.
"I miss him, too, Carter. I'm sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry..."
And then she stops fighting him, grabs handfuls of his shirt, and her breath
is hot against his neck. He's drowning in Sam Carter, and for a moment he
can't remember why he was so afraid.
When she pulls away, she meets his eyes.
He smiles.
He leaves.
He has never been one for words.
**
End
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