Fic: Lonely Goodbye 1/1
Fic: Lonely Goodbye
Author: petite_stars
Rating: PG
Season: Post S7 Grace
Summary: Secret santa fic for bluewillowtree who wanted the first time Sam and Jack get together season 6/7. Probably not quite the happy fic you wanted but this is what came out!!
The party lasts longer than she expected, but by the end, Sam is feeling the warmth that only a good meal and a night with friends can bring.
Janet and Cassie leave first, the doctor pauses before the couch which Sam rests on, warning her to take it easy and to call if she experiences any vision loss or dizziness.
Sam gives a faint smile and reassures her friend with a firm, “Of course, Janet.”
“I'll call you in the morning to make sure you wake up,” Janet squeezes her arm as she passes by and Cassie, more young woman than teenager now, gives Sam a tight hug.
“Glad you're okay, Sam,” Cassie whispers and presses a kiss to her cheek.
Sam nods in agreement, but inside, her mind whirls over the statement. Is she okay? Physically, aside from the odd headache, Sam isn't feeling too worse for wear. But it's something else that bothers her. When she looks at the colonel, her stomach twists into knots and an odd aching sensation pounds in her chest. It feels like she's lost him, like she has let him go; but that makes no sense as she never had him in the first place.
Sam waits patiently as Daniel and Teal'c are the next to leave. They don't exchange words; the relief in their eyes speaks for itself. The way Daniel's arms hold her tighter than usual and Teal'c's hand lingers on her shoulder practically shouts that they are glad she is home.
The colonel shows the two men to the door. She strains to hear the words spoken; Daniel's voice is low, too low for her to translate the muffled murmur, but she can just make out the colonel's response.
“I know, I'll talk to her.” The implication of a serious conversion to come.
Sam presses herself harder into the cushions, waiting for him to return; to talk to her, as he put it. The idea of the colonel talking to her is almost laughable. He prefers silence and jokes as his main method of communication; he avoids conversations involving emotion and any real depth, preferring to deflect to lighter topics or send Daniel in his place.
No, the colonel and Sam do not talk. Or rather, Sam and Jack don't talk. Carter and the colonel converse within the appropriate constraints of their military ranks and positions. But that was about as far as it went between the two of them.
“Carter,” Jack returns to the room and drops two bottles on the coffee table, “You want a beer?”
Sam raises her eyebrows, “Janet will kill you if she finds out.”
“Eh,” Jack waves a hand at the comment and instead places the drink in her hand, “What the little doc doesn't know, won't hurt, uh, me. Or you.”
Sam smiled and took a long swig of beer, ignoring the way the colonel's eyes took in the skin of her throat as she tipped her neck back to swallow. She licks her lips as she releases the bottle and the colonel shifts slightly in his chair, his eyes momentarily frozen on her damp lips.
“On the prometheus, something happened.” The colonel's statement comes out of nowhere and Sam is disoriented for a moment. Her mind slips back to empty grey corridors, the suffocating silence and constant headaches. She doesn't realise her hand is trembling until she feels the colonel's hand remove the bottle from it.
“Carter?” the colonel's voice is sharp, “Do I need to call the doc?”
The mention of the doctor shakes Sam out of her daze and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and gathers her thoughts.
“I'm fine.”
“Don't seem fine.” It's then that Sam notices the colonel is no longer seated in the armchair next to her. He is perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward to where she sits on the couch. It's the closest she has been to him in months, and for a moment the smell of his cologne almost sends her back into another daze.
“Tell me what happened.” He holds her eyes as he speaks, the thin thread of an order interlaces his voice but there is kindness there as well, encouraging her to speak.
“I don't know where to start,” Sam mumbles. Her eyes drop to the floor to stare at his feet; he is barefoot and it seems strangely intimate to have her own naked feet next to his.
“I've read the report,” the colonel's voice is steady, “Tell me what you left out.”
Sam thinks of little girls with curly hair; blowing bubbles and bowls of bright fruit in an otherwise dull setting.
“I saw things,” Sam swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, “Hallucinations of people.”
“People you know?”
“Yes,” Sam paused her mind flitting to the little girl, “And no.”
Jack leaned back slightly and she can feel as his eyes slide over her appraisingly, “You did hit your head pretty hard, Carter, hallucinations are probably par for the course.”
“I guess,” Sam shakes her head slightly even as she agrees with him, “Mostly it was just Daniel and Teal'c telling me to figure out a way to get home.”
“And me?” the colonel's voice is serious and she expects it to turn into the joking tone that brushes the question away.
When he doesn't, Sam has no choice but to answer, “You told me to let you go.”
For a long moment there is silence and Sam stands, stepping clear of the colonel where he sits, motionless, absorbing her words. They might not discuss the feelings between them, but he's not stupid, and Sam knows he understands the words she just uttered.
“My dad appeared too,” Sam keeps talking, even though she wants to stop, “Told me I deserve to be happy. And then you showed up, my safe bet,” the words come out bitter, “And you tell me to let go of you.”
“Is that what you want?” Jack's voice is absent of any emotion she can read but his eyes are darkened with what Sam thinks is hurt.
“No,” it's the most honest answer she can give, “But I'm sick of being alone.”
And that's the heart of the matter. All her life, Sam's closest friends have been the scientific discoveries she has made. Her lab is more of a home to her than her sparse little house will ever be. It never used to bother her, but now, some days when she comes home, she wants someone to talk to instead of constantly being alone with her own thoughts. She wants something more. A warm body to sleep next to, dancing to soft music and kisses to greet her when she walks through the door.
But it's something she can't have as long as she ties herself to Jack.
“Carter,” Jack, still sitting on the coffee table, rubs a hand over his face. His voice is pained and Sam is frozen, not knowing what to do, “I don't want you to be lonely.”
“There isn't another choice,” Sam whispers, “I don't want to let you go,” she chuckles harshly, “I never even had you in the first place.”
Jack stands before she finishes her sentence, stepping close to her and reaching out and placing his worn hands on her shoulders, “What if you could?”
“Could what?” Sam is confused by the dark emotion swirling in his eyes.
Jack nods at her, his eyes flick to her lips, “Have me.”
Sam's mouth goes dry again, “But-”
“Maybe if we do this, get it out of our system, it will be easier for you to let it go,” Jack explains.
Sam doesn't miss the fact that he doesn't mention himself letting go and for a moment the perceived rejection stings, “You don't feel the same way, do you? There is nothing for you to let go?” Her voice is bleak and she feels the red flood of humiliation blush her skin as she realises the feelings are one-sided.
But then Jack's hands are on her cheeks, drawing her eyes to his, “It's not what you're thinking,” he smiles at her, “I'm never letting you go.”
Sam closes her eyes at the unconcealed passion in his voice, “But you want me to let you go?”
A sad smile graces his lips, “You deserve better.”
“No,” Sam steps so their bodies are pressed together, “I don't.”
She kisses him. Her mouth opening immediately to his questing tongue, her own teases the roof of his mouth as they kiss without stopping, their mouths greedy and unrelenting. Her hands sweep over his torso and she presses her soft body against his hardening erection, causing him to gasp and break the kiss for a moment.
Just a moment.
Then his mouth descends again and Sam is lost in the heat of desire that rushes through her belly at the feeling of his hands on her breasts over her shirt. He presses her against the wall and Sam, without thinking, wraps her legs around his hips. He takes her weight effortlessly and for a long time they lose themselves in the pleasure of touching unexplored skin, and the freedom that comes from the release of their self-imposed boundaries.
Jack pauses for a moment, his face buried into her neck, “I need you to be sure.”
Sam doesn't answer with words. She kisses him roughly, her hand sliding down to touch his obvious arousal.
Jack growls into the kiss, then carries her to the bedroom.
*
In the aftermath, neither of them sleeps.
Sam lays with her head resting on his chest and her legs tangle warmly with his. Jack's fingers trace aimless patterns over the skin of her back and her body tingles in response to his touch. He bends slightly to place a tender kiss to her temple, and Sam can sense the words he is about to say.
“It can't happen again,” Sam murmurs before he speaks, “This is,” she pauses as the heaviness of loss in her chest returns in force, “Goodbye.”
Jack takes a long deep breath, and Sam shifts away from him, pulling the sheet to cover her nudity. She pulls her legs into her chest and looks out the window at the darkened sky.
“It's not goodbye for me,” Jack rests a warm hand against the exposed skin on her back, “Nothing will ever change for me.”
Sam turns sad eyes to his, “It's not going to change for me either.”
Jack sits up and wraps his arm around her tense body, “You deserve more Sam.”
The sound of her name on his lips makes her shiver, “I'm not sure this is going to help me let you go.”
Jack presses a kiss to the back of her neck, “I'm not going to stand in the way of your having some happiness Sam.”
“I'm happy with you,” Sam fights, even though it's an argument she can't win.
“We can't be this,” Jack says softly, “You might find happiness elsewhere, I want you to.”
“It won't be the same,” Sam turns back to look at him.
“No,” Jack agrees with her, “But it doesn't mean you can't be happy with someone else.” The pain and sacrifice in his voice is easy to read. Sam doesn't know how he can understand what she wants; remain so firm when she is asking him for something she has no right to ask for. She wants to find someone else to fill the void in her life; she can't have Jack, but maybe she can have even a bit of the happiness that is in the world. Something to make the long days of war seem a little shorter, be a little more bearable.
Sam sighs, her body relaxes even though the words he speaks are not the ones she wants to hear. Jack slides onto his back, into the soft mattress, pulling Sam's pliant body to rest within the circle of his arms.
“It's going to be okay Sam,” he pulls her closer, “Go to sleep.”
Sam sleeps.
*
Sam wakes to sunlight on her face and a warm hand on her naked belly, her back is pressed against Jack's body, they fit together perfectly. Sam could lie like this forever.
But she can't.
Jack doesn't protest when she slips out of his arms, gathers her clothes, strewn across the bedroom, and disappears into the bathroom. She dresses quickly, lingers at the sight of her pale, sad face in the mirror, before pulling open the door and readying herself to face the colonel.
He is dressed in a t-shirt and boxers, sitting on the bed facing the bathroom door. Waiting for her.
Sam opens her mouth to speak, but when she does, no sound comes out. Instead, she crosses the carpeted floor so that she stands in the space between his knees. Leaning down, she presses a kiss against his lips that says goodbye.
“Go do whatever you need to do,” Jack's hand cups her cheek as he whispers against her mouth, “I'm always gunna be here.”
Sam kisses him once more. Then leaves.
*
End
Author: petite_stars
Rating: PG
Season: Post S7 Grace
Summary: Secret santa fic for bluewillowtree who wanted the first time Sam and Jack get together season 6/7. Probably not quite the happy fic you wanted but this is what came out!!
The party lasts longer than she expected, but by the end, Sam is feeling the warmth that only a good meal and a night with friends can bring.
Janet and Cassie leave first, the doctor pauses before the couch which Sam rests on, warning her to take it easy and to call if she experiences any vision loss or dizziness.
Sam gives a faint smile and reassures her friend with a firm, “Of course, Janet.”
“I'll call you in the morning to make sure you wake up,” Janet squeezes her arm as she passes by and Cassie, more young woman than teenager now, gives Sam a tight hug.
“Glad you're okay, Sam,” Cassie whispers and presses a kiss to her cheek.
Sam nods in agreement, but inside, her mind whirls over the statement. Is she okay? Physically, aside from the odd headache, Sam isn't feeling too worse for wear. But it's something else that bothers her. When she looks at the colonel, her stomach twists into knots and an odd aching sensation pounds in her chest. It feels like she's lost him, like she has let him go; but that makes no sense as she never had him in the first place.
Sam waits patiently as Daniel and Teal'c are the next to leave. They don't exchange words; the relief in their eyes speaks for itself. The way Daniel's arms hold her tighter than usual and Teal'c's hand lingers on her shoulder practically shouts that they are glad she is home.
The colonel shows the two men to the door. She strains to hear the words spoken; Daniel's voice is low, too low for her to translate the muffled murmur, but she can just make out the colonel's response.
“I know, I'll talk to her.” The implication of a serious conversion to come.
Sam presses herself harder into the cushions, waiting for him to return; to talk to her, as he put it. The idea of the colonel talking to her is almost laughable. He prefers silence and jokes as his main method of communication; he avoids conversations involving emotion and any real depth, preferring to deflect to lighter topics or send Daniel in his place.
No, the colonel and Sam do not talk. Or rather, Sam and Jack don't talk. Carter and the colonel converse within the appropriate constraints of their military ranks and positions. But that was about as far as it went between the two of them.
“Carter,” Jack returns to the room and drops two bottles on the coffee table, “You want a beer?”
Sam raises her eyebrows, “Janet will kill you if she finds out.”
“Eh,” Jack waves a hand at the comment and instead places the drink in her hand, “What the little doc doesn't know, won't hurt, uh, me. Or you.”
Sam smiled and took a long swig of beer, ignoring the way the colonel's eyes took in the skin of her throat as she tipped her neck back to swallow. She licks her lips as she releases the bottle and the colonel shifts slightly in his chair, his eyes momentarily frozen on her damp lips.
“On the prometheus, something happened.” The colonel's statement comes out of nowhere and Sam is disoriented for a moment. Her mind slips back to empty grey corridors, the suffocating silence and constant headaches. She doesn't realise her hand is trembling until she feels the colonel's hand remove the bottle from it.
“Carter?” the colonel's voice is sharp, “Do I need to call the doc?”
The mention of the doctor shakes Sam out of her daze and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and gathers her thoughts.
“I'm fine.”
“Don't seem fine.” It's then that Sam notices the colonel is no longer seated in the armchair next to her. He is perched on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward to where she sits on the couch. It's the closest she has been to him in months, and for a moment the smell of his cologne almost sends her back into another daze.
“Tell me what happened.” He holds her eyes as he speaks, the thin thread of an order interlaces his voice but there is kindness there as well, encouraging her to speak.
“I don't know where to start,” Sam mumbles. Her eyes drop to the floor to stare at his feet; he is barefoot and it seems strangely intimate to have her own naked feet next to his.
“I've read the report,” the colonel's voice is steady, “Tell me what you left out.”
Sam thinks of little girls with curly hair; blowing bubbles and bowls of bright fruit in an otherwise dull setting.
“I saw things,” Sam swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, “Hallucinations of people.”
“People you know?”
“Yes,” Sam paused her mind flitting to the little girl, “And no.”
Jack leaned back slightly and she can feel as his eyes slide over her appraisingly, “You did hit your head pretty hard, Carter, hallucinations are probably par for the course.”
“I guess,” Sam shakes her head slightly even as she agrees with him, “Mostly it was just Daniel and Teal'c telling me to figure out a way to get home.”
“And me?” the colonel's voice is serious and she expects it to turn into the joking tone that brushes the question away.
When he doesn't, Sam has no choice but to answer, “You told me to let you go.”
For a long moment there is silence and Sam stands, stepping clear of the colonel where he sits, motionless, absorbing her words. They might not discuss the feelings between them, but he's not stupid, and Sam knows he understands the words she just uttered.
“My dad appeared too,” Sam keeps talking, even though she wants to stop, “Told me I deserve to be happy. And then you showed up, my safe bet,” the words come out bitter, “And you tell me to let go of you.”
“Is that what you want?” Jack's voice is absent of any emotion she can read but his eyes are darkened with what Sam thinks is hurt.
“No,” it's the most honest answer she can give, “But I'm sick of being alone.”
And that's the heart of the matter. All her life, Sam's closest friends have been the scientific discoveries she has made. Her lab is more of a home to her than her sparse little house will ever be. It never used to bother her, but now, some days when she comes home, she wants someone to talk to instead of constantly being alone with her own thoughts. She wants something more. A warm body to sleep next to, dancing to soft music and kisses to greet her when she walks through the door.
But it's something she can't have as long as she ties herself to Jack.
“Carter,” Jack, still sitting on the coffee table, rubs a hand over his face. His voice is pained and Sam is frozen, not knowing what to do, “I don't want you to be lonely.”
“There isn't another choice,” Sam whispers, “I don't want to let you go,” she chuckles harshly, “I never even had you in the first place.”
Jack stands before she finishes her sentence, stepping close to her and reaching out and placing his worn hands on her shoulders, “What if you could?”
“Could what?” Sam is confused by the dark emotion swirling in his eyes.
Jack nods at her, his eyes flick to her lips, “Have me.”
Sam's mouth goes dry again, “But-”
“Maybe if we do this, get it out of our system, it will be easier for you to let it go,” Jack explains.
Sam doesn't miss the fact that he doesn't mention himself letting go and for a moment the perceived rejection stings, “You don't feel the same way, do you? There is nothing for you to let go?” Her voice is bleak and she feels the red flood of humiliation blush her skin as she realises the feelings are one-sided.
But then Jack's hands are on her cheeks, drawing her eyes to his, “It's not what you're thinking,” he smiles at her, “I'm never letting you go.”
Sam closes her eyes at the unconcealed passion in his voice, “But you want me to let you go?”
A sad smile graces his lips, “You deserve better.”
“No,” Sam steps so their bodies are pressed together, “I don't.”
She kisses him. Her mouth opening immediately to his questing tongue, her own teases the roof of his mouth as they kiss without stopping, their mouths greedy and unrelenting. Her hands sweep over his torso and she presses her soft body against his hardening erection, causing him to gasp and break the kiss for a moment.
Just a moment.
Then his mouth descends again and Sam is lost in the heat of desire that rushes through her belly at the feeling of his hands on her breasts over her shirt. He presses her against the wall and Sam, without thinking, wraps her legs around his hips. He takes her weight effortlessly and for a long time they lose themselves in the pleasure of touching unexplored skin, and the freedom that comes from the release of their self-imposed boundaries.
Jack pauses for a moment, his face buried into her neck, “I need you to be sure.”
Sam doesn't answer with words. She kisses him roughly, her hand sliding down to touch his obvious arousal.
Jack growls into the kiss, then carries her to the bedroom.
*
In the aftermath, neither of them sleeps.
Sam lays with her head resting on his chest and her legs tangle warmly with his. Jack's fingers trace aimless patterns over the skin of her back and her body tingles in response to his touch. He bends slightly to place a tender kiss to her temple, and Sam can sense the words he is about to say.
“It can't happen again,” Sam murmurs before he speaks, “This is,” she pauses as the heaviness of loss in her chest returns in force, “Goodbye.”
Jack takes a long deep breath, and Sam shifts away from him, pulling the sheet to cover her nudity. She pulls her legs into her chest and looks out the window at the darkened sky.
“It's not goodbye for me,” Jack rests a warm hand against the exposed skin on her back, “Nothing will ever change for me.”
Sam turns sad eyes to his, “It's not going to change for me either.”
Jack sits up and wraps his arm around her tense body, “You deserve more Sam.”
The sound of her name on his lips makes her shiver, “I'm not sure this is going to help me let you go.”
Jack presses a kiss to the back of her neck, “I'm not going to stand in the way of your having some happiness Sam.”
“I'm happy with you,” Sam fights, even though it's an argument she can't win.
“We can't be this,” Jack says softly, “You might find happiness elsewhere, I want you to.”
“It won't be the same,” Sam turns back to look at him.
“No,” Jack agrees with her, “But it doesn't mean you can't be happy with someone else.” The pain and sacrifice in his voice is easy to read. Sam doesn't know how he can understand what she wants; remain so firm when she is asking him for something she has no right to ask for. She wants to find someone else to fill the void in her life; she can't have Jack, but maybe she can have even a bit of the happiness that is in the world. Something to make the long days of war seem a little shorter, be a little more bearable.
Sam sighs, her body relaxes even though the words he speaks are not the ones she wants to hear. Jack slides onto his back, into the soft mattress, pulling Sam's pliant body to rest within the circle of his arms.
“It's going to be okay Sam,” he pulls her closer, “Go to sleep.”
Sam sleeps.
*
Sam wakes to sunlight on her face and a warm hand on her naked belly, her back is pressed against Jack's body, they fit together perfectly. Sam could lie like this forever.
But she can't.
Jack doesn't protest when she slips out of his arms, gathers her clothes, strewn across the bedroom, and disappears into the bathroom. She dresses quickly, lingers at the sight of her pale, sad face in the mirror, before pulling open the door and readying herself to face the colonel.
He is dressed in a t-shirt and boxers, sitting on the bed facing the bathroom door. Waiting for her.
Sam opens her mouth to speak, but when she does, no sound comes out. Instead, she crosses the carpeted floor so that she stands in the space between his knees. Leaning down, she presses a kiss against his lips that says goodbye.
“Go do whatever you need to do,” Jack's hand cups her cheek as he whispers against her mouth, “I'm always gunna be here.”
Sam kisses him once more. Then leaves.
*
End