Second Chances
Air Force Colonel Jack O’Neill was at his lake cabin, alone and drunk.
I shouldn’t have come here, he thought. This isn’t helping.
He stumbled out onto the porch, hoping the night air might clear his head.
Fuck, he thought. I can’t take much more of this.
He fell to his hands and knees, then rolled over onto his back, pressing his fists into the sides of his head in the hopes that it would all go away, knowing full well it would never go away.
Today was Charlie’s birthday.
***
He was on the down side of 45, headed quickly, it seemed, to 50, and he felt old and tired and lonely.
His life at the SGC was starting to cause a serious strain.
I’m too old for this shit. Was it all worth it? he wondered. More and more lately, he was thinking that it wasn’t.
It wasn’t just the SGC and the losses he’d suffered there, although Daniel’s ‘ascension’ or whatever in the hell that had been had hurt a lot more than he’d admitted.
It was everything.
It was Charlie.
***
From the moment he’d join the Air Force, he’d been eager and willing, a soldier all the way. The chance to join Special Ops, then Black Ops, had seemed like tremendous opportunities, and he’d advanced quickly. He did the work well, and even though a lot of it was damned difficult, he still did it. They’d trained him well.
He was a killing machine.
Charlie’s birth had been a very bright spot in what had become a very difficult life. He and Sarah had become closer, regaining some of what they’d lost while he was gone, all the time, it had seemed to both of them.
Charlie quickly became the center of their lives.
He’d been considering reassignment, had even spoken to his CO about it, but they weren’t that eager to let him go just yet. Give us a year or two, they’d said. Then we’ll give you the assignment of your choice.
So he’d bided his time, continuing with his missions, never able to tell Sarah or Charlie when or where he was going or what he was doing and when, or if, he was coming back.
Sarah would cry, Charlie would cry and O’Neill would stiffen with the pain that leaving them brought.
But he was lucky, most of the time. Sometimes it was months, in one case even years, but he always came home – to Sarah, and to Charlie.
When will this end? Sarah would ask, and he’d answer soon. They’ll reassign me soon.
Then it happened.
***
He was numb when he buried his son, half-aware of Sarah clutching his arm and sobbing, unable or unwilling to comfort her, he wasn’t sure which.
He was buried in a haze of a grief so deep that it’s unknowable to those who haven’t lost a child – it’s a pain overwhelming, exhausting. He was lost, hazy with alcohol, angry at everyone and everything, especially those who still had their children. But, he would think in his few clearer moments, this WAS his fault. He may as well have shot Charlie with his own hand.
He barely remembered the first month after Charlie’s death. He’d shut down. He retired, and took to spending days locked in Charlie’s room, staring at the gun, HIS gun, that had killed his son.
Sarah tried to reach him in rage, grief, comfort – but he couldn’t hear her. All he could think was ‘I did this, I did this, I did this.’
Before, he’d always thought suicide was for cowards.
Now he began to think otherwise.
He started to plan. Do it at the cabin, maybe. Call 911 right before he did it so Sarah wouldn’t have to deal with the mess.
He’d be doing everyone a favor.
That’s when the Air Force showed up, dragging him back into active service. Had they been one day later, he would have been dead.
***
And so now, here he was. Divorced, middle-aged, alone – most likely an alcoholic, he had no problem admitting that to himself.
But at first there had been the SGC, and he’d slowly begun to come out of the haze of pain that had blinded him.
He covered his grief with jokes, taking on the role of the smart-ass. SG-1 kept him busy, mentally and physically, so he only had time to grieve for Charlie and everything else he’d lost on his down time, when he was alone.
There was Daniel. He’d never thought two men so different could develop such a friendship, but they had. Losing him had been a blow, even though he knew he wasn’t really gone – he still wasn’t there to harass.
And Teal’c. Another amazing friendship. He admired Teal’c more than any man he’d ever met, and knew he could count on him for anything. He was rock-solid.
And Carter. He loved Carter, he would think sometimes; other times he wondered if he was confusing loneliness and longing and friendship with romantic love. His feelings for her were complex, but it didn’t matter anyway, they’d never be more than friends. He could see it in her eyes the few times they’d been on the verge of talking about it, or touching . . . she was scared as hell. He wouldn’t do that to her.
So, now what?
Now, nothing.
His time with the SGC was getting old, the casualties were piling up. He’d had enough death in his life; losing more and more of those who were under his command was starting to weigh him down again, dragging him back down into the depths.
And Charlie. Ever present.
He’d give ANYTHING to get him back.
***
Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to open his eyes and see Daniel standing above him.
He stood up and moved to one of the wooden rockers on the porch.
“Hey, Daniel,” he said quietly.
“Jack.”
Daniel took a seat next to him.
“So, why aren’t you glowing or something?”
Daniel smiled. “I could glow if you want.”
“No, no,” O’Neill said. “I just wanna see the old you. I’ve missed you.”
“I never really left, not really.”
They sat together in silence for a while before Daniel finally spoke.
“I can help you, Jack,” he said.
O’Neill was unable to speak. He’d started to weep silently, despite his strongest efforts not to – he could feel that Daniel knew what he’d been thinking.
“I can take you back,” Daniel said.
O’Neill scrubbed his face.
“Back?” he said.
“To the time before Charlie died.”
It took a moment for that to sink in.
“Back?” he said again. A spark of hope was starting to ignite inside him in spite of himself.
“Yes,” Daniel said. “You wouldn’t remember anything that has happened since and your life might take an entirely different course.”
“But . . . wouldn’t that be messing with time, or the laws of nature or something?”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “But you’re being given a second chance.”
“By who?”
Daniel smiled. “Let’s just say I did a lot of talking on your behalf. You were . . . are my best friend and I think you deserve this opportunity. But there’s a lot you might be giving up.”
“Like what?”
“Like the SGC. The times we’ve had together. Sam.”
O’Neill’s brain was overwhelmed by the possible scenarios – but, he’d have Charlie back. Since Charlie died, that was the one thing he wanted most in the world.
“You can take your time on this, Jack. I can come back when you’re ready – or you can let things continue as they are.”
O’Neill was silent, thinking, breathing deeply.
“Gimme a day or two,” he said. “Can you meet me back here when . . . I’m ready?”
“Yes, of course,” Daniel said, knowing what was on Jack’s mind. “I’ll be here. Shall I glow for you before I leave?” He smiled, and before Jack could answer, he was gone in a flash of light.
“Show off,” O’Neill muttered, but he was grateful to have seen his old friend again and was amazed by the hope now rising within him.
***
First, he went back to the mountain, to see Teal’c.
“Look, I can’t really explain what’s going on . . . I saw Daniel . . . it’s complicated . . .” he’d fumbled.
Teal’c waited, patient.
“Anyway . . . I just wanted to say . . . you’re a good man and a good friend and I’m proud to have known you.”
“You sound as if you are saying goodbye, Col. O’Neill.”
“Well . . . I guess I am, kind of.”
“You said you saw Daniel Jackson.”
O’Neill nodded.
“Then I trust in his wisdom, and in yours. I wish you well, and I am proud to call myself your friend.”
They embraced, awkwardly at first, then fully – each knowing that in some way, this might mean they’d never see each other again.
O’Neill left without saying anything else.
***
He parked in front of Carter’s house. He sat there a long time, wondering if this was a good idea. Maybe he should just leave things as they were.
Then again, he thought, this might be the last time I ever see her.
He got out of the truck before he could talk himself out of it and went to her door. He knocked.
She answered immediately.
“Sir! Hi! Uh, come in,” she said, obviously surprised to see him there.
“Carter,” he said by way of greeting.
He eased into her house, uncomfortable, wondering if he should explain the whole thing, or . . . hell, he didn’t know.
She stared at him expectantly.
“Uh, Sam,” he said. “Something’s happened.”
“What?” she said sharply, worried there might be something wrong.
“I . . . I can’t tell you, maybe you can talk to Teal’c later, but . . .”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that . . . things are going to change.”
“Change how?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I actually have no idea. But I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?” she said, shocked. “You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
“Again, the whole ‘I can’t really tell you that’ . . . thing,” he said.
“Why not?” she demanded.
He sighed. She was making this more difficult than it already was.
“Just . . . take me at my word, Sam. I’m . . . leaving, so to speak . . .”
He broke off as he saw her tearing up.
“Oh, don’t do that,” he begged. He walked over to her and took her in his arms. “It’ll be okay, Sam . . . it’ll be for the best. I’ve been given a second chance.”
She pressed her face against his chest, fighting back tears. “Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?” she asked again.
“I just can’t,” he said. “Look at me.”
She turned her face up to his.
“I promise you, I’ll always be there for you.”
“How? If you’re not here, how?”
“Just trust me,” he said, and kissed her briefly. He let her go and turned to leave.
“Jack!” she cried, a pleading note in her voice.
He turned. “Just let me go, Sam, please,” he said. “This hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”
She stared at him, silent, arms crossed tightly across her chest, then nodded her acceptance, tears streaming.
“I love you, Sam,” he said quietly.
She looked down. That had hurt her, he regretted saying it.
“I love you, too,” she said, without looking up.
He smiled, relief tinged with hurt, and then he was gone.
***
He was back at the cabin when Daniel arrived.
“Are you sure about this, Jack?” he asked.
“Positive. Let’s do it.”
***
He was in his office cleaning his gun when Sarah came in.
“Jack, I really wish you’d get that thing out of here,” she said.
He looked at her, and then looked at the gun. “I’ve been thinking that same thing. I’ll take it with me to work today and leave it there.”
She smiled with relief and kissed him on the forehead. “Thank you, honey,” she said. “I’ll pay you back later.”
“Oh, really?” he said suggestively.
“Really,” she’d whispered back, shaking her hips as she left the room.
He smiled, then reassembled the gun and locked it in the tool box of his truck before going outside to play catch with Charlie.
***
Eventually, the Stargate made its way into his life. He was
recruited to lead the team to first go through it, met Daniel along the way,
and stayed on as they left Daniel on
Gen. Hammond was put in charge of the SGC, and he brought in Capt. Carter, the smartest woman, no, smartest PERSON O’Neill ever met. Daniel soon returned and the beginnings of the team started to gel. On their first mission they met Teal’c, and SG-1 was complete.
Two years into their time together Carter married a wonderful man named Ben, and within another year had given birth to beautiful twin girls, tow-headed and blue-eyed, just like their mother.
Sarah wasn’t far behind. After years of trying, she and O’Neill had a daughter of their own, a little sister to Charlie, who was growing like a weed and was kind of embarrassed by his mother’s pregnancy. “That means your mom & dad ‘did it,’” his friends would tease, and he’d knock them on their asses.
The team managed to rescue Sha’re and bring her back to earth, and Carter and Sarah tried to help her as she adjusted to her new environment and threw the inevitable baby shower when the time came.
O’Neill would sit on his back porch, daughter on his lap, watching Charlie shoot hoops and think how lucky he was. Happily married, healthy and happy kids, great job, great friends.
And, unbidden and somewhat puzzling, the thought would come to his mind – “Thank God for second chances.”
***