A quick little fic
Well, I had the urge to write this and I'm not sure why, so I'm sharing it here. Please be kind.
Thoughts and Ruminations
AUTHOR: SGC Gategirl
RATING: Ages 10+
CATEGORY: Angst
SUMMARY: A quiet, snowy evening gets Jack thinking.
SPOILERS: None
WARNINGS: None
AUTHORS' NOTE: Not sure where this came from, but I do know I should have been writing something else—three other something elses, really. Thanks to Yllek for the quick read and beta.
ARCHIVE: Do not archive without the author's express permission.
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Sci Fi and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles, and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea, and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
***
Thoughts and Ruminations
By SGC Gategirl
Sitting in the darkness of his den, the crackling of the last logs dying in the fireplace his only company, Jack O'Neill sighed.
The moon, shining brightly when it first appeared several hours ago, its brilliance reflecting off the fresh layer of snow blanketing this bedroom community, was long gone, covered instead by thickening clouds. Another snowfall soon to come, quickly followed by the cheers and cries of children in the streets playing games and building snow fortresses to offer their meager protection from the incoming snowballs.
But some voices would never be heard, forever silent. No more games to be played, no more snowball fights to win or lose.
The snap of the wood in the fireplace made him jump, his eyes immediately glancing toward the source of the offending sound. Shifting on the couch, he pulled his arms closer to his body, hugging himself slightly before releasing his grip, his arms dropping down to rest at his sides, his hands falling beside his fleece-covered thighs.
There was a time once, when he was younger, that he thought the world was an adventure waiting to happen. He planned that once he was of age he'd spend his youth exploring and finding out what the world was all about.
How naive he had been.
He'd seen the world, but not the way he'd dreamed he would.
Finding bits and pieces of happiness when they presented themselves. He adjusted to this new life, to this new set of rules, growing and thriving amid loss and death. Love found him and gave him a son and, for a brief time, he'd been content, happy even.
But things were always changing and never for the better.
He lost friends and colleagues as well as sons and wives. He also discovered there was a world beyond the losses, beyond the grief. With another family, a new family, a different family by his side, he learned to live again—even if it were just the barest amounts.
But because of his at-arms-length approach to the world, his decision never to be hurt the way he'd been before, he found himself alone, isolated from the world he loved and protected with the very essence of his being.
But some nights he wondered if this was all there was to life, to living. Working the hours he did, facing death and injury on a weekly basis didn't leave much room for introspection and contemplation.
Was this the life he wanted?
He couldn't imagine doing anything else, living his life any other way, but there were times that he doubted and wondered if things could have been different. If maybe, in another life and another universe, he might be happy.
He lived a lonely life; a solitary existence interspersed with periods of sheer terror as life and death hung on his next decision.
But knowing what he knew, could he turn and walk away?
He knew that answer without hesitation.
Rising to his feet, he approached the now-dead fire, taking the time to clear away the warm ashes. Padding silently through the house on his sock-clad feet, he shut the few lights that illuminated his way to his bedroom.
There was work to be done in the morning and he planned on being there every step of the way.
***fin***
Thoughts and Ruminations
AUTHOR: SGC Gategirl
RATING: Ages 10+
CATEGORY: Angst
SUMMARY: A quiet, snowy evening gets Jack thinking.
SPOILERS: None
WARNINGS: None
AUTHORS' NOTE: Not sure where this came from, but I do know I should have been writing something else—three other something elses, really. Thanks to Yllek for the quick read and beta.
ARCHIVE: Do not archive without the author's express permission.
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Sci Fi and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles, and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea, and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
***
Thoughts and Ruminations
By SGC Gategirl
Sitting in the darkness of his den, the crackling of the last logs dying in the fireplace his only company, Jack O'Neill sighed.
The moon, shining brightly when it first appeared several hours ago, its brilliance reflecting off the fresh layer of snow blanketing this bedroom community, was long gone, covered instead by thickening clouds. Another snowfall soon to come, quickly followed by the cheers and cries of children in the streets playing games and building snow fortresses to offer their meager protection from the incoming snowballs.
But some voices would never be heard, forever silent. No more games to be played, no more snowball fights to win or lose.
The snap of the wood in the fireplace made him jump, his eyes immediately glancing toward the source of the offending sound. Shifting on the couch, he pulled his arms closer to his body, hugging himself slightly before releasing his grip, his arms dropping down to rest at his sides, his hands falling beside his fleece-covered thighs.
There was a time once, when he was younger, that he thought the world was an adventure waiting to happen. He planned that once he was of age he'd spend his youth exploring and finding out what the world was all about.
How naive he had been.
He'd seen the world, but not the way he'd dreamed he would.
Finding bits and pieces of happiness when they presented themselves. He adjusted to this new life, to this new set of rules, growing and thriving amid loss and death. Love found him and gave him a son and, for a brief time, he'd been content, happy even.
But things were always changing and never for the better.
He lost friends and colleagues as well as sons and wives. He also discovered there was a world beyond the losses, beyond the grief. With another family, a new family, a different family by his side, he learned to live again—even if it were just the barest amounts.
But because of his at-arms-length approach to the world, his decision never to be hurt the way he'd been before, he found himself alone, isolated from the world he loved and protected with the very essence of his being.
But some nights he wondered if this was all there was to life, to living. Working the hours he did, facing death and injury on a weekly basis didn't leave much room for introspection and contemplation.
Was this the life he wanted?
He couldn't imagine doing anything else, living his life any other way, but there were times that he doubted and wondered if things could have been different. If maybe, in another life and another universe, he might be happy.
He lived a lonely life; a solitary existence interspersed with periods of sheer terror as life and death hung on his next decision.
But knowing what he knew, could he turn and walk away?
He knew that answer without hesitation.
Rising to his feet, he approached the now-dead fire, taking the time to clear away the warm ashes. Padding silently through the house on his sock-clad feet, he shut the few lights that illuminated his way to his bedroom.
There was work to be done in the morning and he planned on being there every step of the way.
***fin***
2 Comments:
>If maybe, in another life and another universe, he might actually be happy<
Yeah, don't we all feel like that once in a while. But our Jack. He gets up, tends the fire and knows what he's got to do.
Wonderful fic. Nice characterization, spot on.
T
Nice! Very nice! As always, you did a great job of capturing Jack and a side of him that they hint at on screen, but that you rarely see. I think that is one of the things I like the most about your fics: you aren't afraid to get into their heads and poke around a little, but at the same time you manage to uphold and enhance the character traits we all know and love.
Keep them coming!
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