(no subject)
More String Theory: An AU Series
Dr. Samantha Carter joins the SGC and discovers a life she never expected.
Action/Adventure, Drama, Angst, Romance, S/J
Teen: language and violence
I made myself a banner, how self-indulgent is that? ;)
Ficlet 36-Better Angels
Hearing a soft knock at his front door, Jason Reynolds curses under his breath. He’s in the middle of the daily regiment his physical therapist has insisted upon, no matter how often Jason comments that the cure seems to be a lot worse than the injury. If she says, “No pain, no gain,” to him one more time he might just lose it.
There’s another, even more timid knock at the door, and Jason slips his brace back over his right hand, strapping it into place. “Coming!” he calls out, really hoping he isn’t going to have to deal with a door to door magazine salesman on top of everything else today.
When he finally pulls open the front door, though, he finds probably the last person he expects to see on his doorstep: Sam Carter.
It’s the first time he’s seen her since that day in the cell. He’d been sent straight to the local military hospital for extensive surgeries on his hand and side. By the time he ever set foot on base again she was long gone, no one seeming to know if she was ever coming back.
But here she is in jeans and a light sweater, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face is completely free of bruising and he can’t see any sign of a cast. If it weren’t for the enormous brace on his hand and the wariness in her eyes, he might be able to fool himself into thinking they were back on the Beta Site and that none of this had ever happened.
“Dr. Carter,” he says in belated greeting, trying not to openly grimace at his uncharacteristic use of her title. He’d always called her Sam. Before.
She seems to take it in stride though. “Jason,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind me just dropping in on you like this. I would have called, but...” She just sort of shrugs and she doesn’t have to say anything for him to know why she hadn’t called. This is hard enough in person.
“No, it’s no bother,” Jason manages to say. “Do you want to come in?”
He pulls the door open, not missing her hesitation on the threshold, but with a look of determination she steps inside. Jason closes the door behind them and they stand in the middle of his entryway for a few minutes, mired in awkward silence.
“You want something to drink?” he finally asks in desperation.
“Sure,” she says.
He leads her back into his kitchen and she leans self-consciously against a counter as he pulls out two glasses. One of the glasses sets down awkwardly, his grip not quite strong enough and it slips off the edge of the counter, shattering on the floor.
“Dammit!” Jason swears more out of frustration than anything. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam flinch at the outburst.
“Let me help you,” she says, dropping to the floor.
“Sam, no, you’re going to cut yourself,” Jason says, rummaging for a dustpan under the sink. He kneels next to her, trying to sweep in some of the larger pieces, but he can’t quite get the right angle with his cumbersome hand.
“Jason,” Sam says lowly, her hand reaching out to touch the back of his. “Let me.”
He lets her take them, sitting back against his cabinets, wondering how this could possibly be any more awkward.
“Your hand,” Sam says after long moments, her eyes intent on the floor. “Did...did he do that?”
She doesn’t have to say his name for Jason to know who she’s talking about. “Most of it,” he answers.
“Is it permanent?” she asks, dumping some of the larger pieces into his wastebasket.
“No. They think with a few more surgeries that I might get my original range of motion back.” He would be out already if there wasn’t that hope. What kind of airman would he make if he couldn’t even hold a gun?
She’s swept up all of the glass by now, but she’s still moving the brush across the floor, sweeping up imaginary dust. He watches her without comment.
“I blamed you,” she blurts, still not looking at him.
Jason feels his head nod, not really surprised, just...not particularly looking forward to dealing with her anger, no matter how natural it is. They were never close friends, but they had worked well together, built that place from the ground up together. Everything had hinged on their mutual respect. Now, looking at her, all he can remember are her screams.
She finally looks up at him, only there’s none of the anger he’s expecting. He wonders what she’s forced to remember when she looks at him.
“My therapists have lots of fancy terms for it,” she says. “Reasons why I felt the way I did. But I’m not really looking for an excuse. The truth is, I have no idea what it must have been like for you, to make those decisions, to...watch what they did to me. I can’t claim to understand that. Maybe I never will.”
He can tell she really doesn’t want him to explain anything or make up excuses for what happened and he’s relieved, because he doesn’t have any of that to offer her.
“But I can accept that you did what you had to, that it wasn’t easy for you either,” she continues. “I’m just sorry...for so many things. It’s insanity the way I can go over it again and again in my mind, nitpicking for that one thing I could have done differently. If I’d just run faster, or shot that Jaffa. If I’d just been a little stronger-.”
Jason reaches out for her arm, stopping her mid-sentence. “I know,” he says, his voice gruff. “I know, Sam.”
And he does, because he’s spent every moment of the last two months thinking the exact same things. They stare at each other, some form of clarity there, born of their shared experience.
She nods her head in acceptance and he pulls himself up off the floor, reaching his good hand down to help her up.
“You still want that drink?” he asks.
“No, thanks,” she says, some of the awkwardness creeping back in. “I think I’m okay.”
He knows she’s said what she came here to say. He walks her back to the door, pulling it open. “Thanks for dropping by, Sam.”
She nods, giving him a tight smile.
As she steps out onto his front walk, he calls out after her. “What are you going to do now?”
She pauses, turning back to him with her hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun. “I’m going to go back to work, back to my life,” she says. “Apparently they need a lot of help reverse engineering our new acquisition and I’m always up for a challenge.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he says.
“What about you?” she asks. “Will I see you back on base?”
Jason wiggles his fingers, feeling the stiffness of his ravaged ligaments. He has months more ahead of him of clumsiness and pain, but after that...there is always a chance.
“Count on it,” he says.
She smiles, giving him a small wave.
Jason watches her until she disappears around the corner before going back inside and finishing every one of his exercises.
next