Enduring Time Chapter 5

Title: Enduring Time

Author: Su Freund

Email: su_freund@ficwithfins.com

Category: Angst, romance, friendship, drama

Content Level: Age 13+

Content Warnings: Major character death, mild language, sexual situations

Pairings: Jack/Sam, Sam/Teal'c, Daniel/Vala

Season: Future

Spoilers: Up to and including "Unending"

Summary: Maybe memory could convey "essence of Jack" after all. If only Sam could have bottled that unique essence to open, breathe in deeply and luxuriate in at whim...

Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to Unending Time and Chapter 4 of Enduring Time

Status: Continuing Series

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright 2008 Su Freund

Author's notes: Many thanks to ImmerRDA for beta reading this story and thereby helping improve it in so many small, and sometimes large, ways. Any remaining errors are entirely my own.

Enduring Time: Chapter 5

Previously:

Teal'c remembered those moments with fondness. She had been right about the necklace, which steadied and comforted him in times of doubt and pain. He would hold and caress it in his fingers, looking upon it and recalling her love, that it had been real and true and deeply felt.

Many times in retrospect, Teal'c was pleased he had accepted the token of her love, that part of her heart and soul that had belonged to him for years. So too would he be content that he had accepted this new token of her friendship, the photograph of Jack and Sam in its frame filled with memories. It represented their enduring and deep friendship and that remained more precious to him than almost anything.

The story continues:

When Teal'c eventually returned to his home and Sam found herself alone, she ruminated about her gift to her Jaffa friend. He seemed pleased she had given him something he knew she valued. That was satisfying, but the act prompted her to look for her and Jack's old photographs.

Damned if she could remember where they were, she frantically searched through cupboards, desperate to wallow in the memories they would summon. Finally, Sam found them in a few boxes stashed behind some old clothes and pulled them out, taking them into the living room and lovingly placing them on the couch.

After making coffee, she curled up beside the boxes as best as her old bones would let her, starting to sift through them. Quickly finding the other wedding photographs, both official and informal, Sam began to leaf through the albums.

Jack's glorious smile beamed at her from the first one. He looked so happy, and so did she. That smile really was something. It was the kind of smile that could bowl you over and make your heart skip a beat, and it had done so frequently both before and after they had become a couple.

Sam could feel tears pricking at her eyes as she recalled that day, and the fact that she would never see that smile beaming at her again, at least in the flesh. A photograph, and even the memory, simply did not do it justice. Her husband's smiles, and personality, were so much larger than that. Some of his charisma was lost in translation and a mere camera could not capture Jack's larger than life presence.

If she closed her eyes... perhaps that was better. Maybe memory could convey "essence of Jack" after all. If only Sam could have bottled that unique essence to open, breathe in deeply and luxuriate in at whim. She sighed, unshed tears brimming on her eyelids as the memories of their wedding day assailed her.

They say getting married is one of the happiest days of your life, and one of the most stressful, and they are both right and wrong about that. The fact is, Sam was so darned scared and nervous that much of her wedding day was a blur.

Sam remembered thinking she glowed. After becoming Mrs. O'Neill, she figured the glow must have gained sufficiently high wattage to light a galaxy. She recalled walking down the aisle and seeing Jack waiting at its end with Daniel by his side. The smile that greeted her had been special, as if she was the only person in that church, and she could remember nothing else whatsoever about that walk, except it seemed interminably long.

She barely remembered the ceremony itself, had a vague recollection of vows and saying I do, but that was about it - until the priest pronounced them man and wife. That part she remembered vividly. Jack had called her Mrs. O'Neill for the first time, looking happier than she could ever remember, and he had kissed her, as was the tradition. Sam melted into a puddle and could not remember much else that had happened immediately afterwards. It was like the momentous occasion pulled her into a dream and events passed her by.

There was a hazy recollection of what seemed like chaos as people took photographs and everyone congratulated them. The next thing she recalled clearly was snatches of speeches, cutting the cake and forcing some food into her excitedly agitated stomach. If she was honest, a lot of the speech making was a blur, but cutting the cake stuck in her mind because of the way Jack looked at her. Sam imagined she had a similarly idiotic grin on her face too, and that her eyes were dancing with delight along with his.

Pulling out of her reverie, she glanced at the photo again. It captured the cake cutting, and they looked as dumbly happy and idiotic as she remembered. Was the memory born from the photo, or was it real? Sam was uncertain and it probably did not matter. She could envisage the moment so perfectly in her mind, the emotions and the way Jack looked, that the photo seemed almost irrelevant.

Tears coursed down her cheeks now. She simply could not help herself. Sam thought she had cried so much over the few days Teal'c had stayed with her that she was all out of tears. Obviously not. She still had a lot of crying left to do, so she let it come, shuddering and shaking and placing the photo album to one side so she did not spoil it with those salty tears.

Over the days following Jack's funeral, Sam was a rollercoaster ride of emotions. She felt bitter anger at her husband for leaving her, cursing about betrayal and broken promises. Jack had sworn he would never leave her. They were for always and forever. He had promised. Damn the man! She hated him. She loved him. She hated him.

Sam's fury at his abandonment seemed to know no bounds. Physical violence with the inanimate was not unknown. Things got broken amongst the harshly insulting and stridently vocal curses. This was unlike Sam but, on occasion, her rage seemed to lack the restraint she had exercised throughout the rest of her life.

Of course, these outbursts usually ended in tears. A couple of times, she swung for Teal'c as if Jack's death was his fault, and beat her hands against his solid chest. He let her vent her spleen and pummel him for a while before grasping her and pulling her close until the tears came and she trembled in his embrace. Afterwards, Sam's behavior mortified her, but Teal'c was at his steadfast and stoic best. He knew exactly how to calm her down. His enduring friendship was exactly what she needed at such times.

Sometimes, there were long silences as she seemed to enter a world of her own, thoughts unknown to all but her. Or she would disappear and mourn her loss in hushed aloneness. She might happily, or sadly, reminisce with her friends about better and less lonely and sorrowful times. Her mournful sobbing might start up quietly and suddenly, and she would ask one of her friends for a hug to chase those blues away.

If an emotion existed, Sam probably experienced it at one time or another. She supposed such violent swings were natural and would continue for a very long time as she came to terms with losing Jack - if she ever came to terms with it. Such a thing was almost impossible to contemplate.

Jack had been fundamental to her life. She loved him and missed him so much, finding it hard to imagine living without him in that life. Sam was pleased he had died peacefully and painlessly, instead of due to some long drawn out illness, but the shock of that sudden passing made it all the more difficult to bear.

This was one memory that was as vivid as if it had happened merely minutes ago, and yet it was one of the worst of her life and probably always would be. Waking up to find your husband dead next to you in bed is not a memory to cherish. No one should have to suffer that, although many probably did. The fact she probably was not alone in suffering a loss like that offered no consolation to her grieving heart.

She had tried to wake him, gently at first and then more frantically. Sam had not wanted to accept he had gone and the reality that Jack had died in his sleep took a while to sink in. Then she remembered screaming, or more of a keening actually. And she had sobbed her heart out over his unmoving and lifeless body, wetting the t-shirt he wore to bed - anger, heartbreak and a whole range of emotions bombarding her.

Sam remembered kissing him - lips, face, and neck. She had caressed his pale flesh, grasped him and held on desperately, as if he might wake and smile and say "Hey, Sam" as he had done so frequently in the mornings. He had always been a joy to wake up next to, ever since their first time of discovering that pleasure.

She recalled thinking about that at the time, the first night they had spent in each other's arms. Both of them were so nervous about lovemaking the day before. They had so much baggage that could not simply be forgotten or lightly passed over. Sam invited him to lunch at her place on the weekend of their very first date. Instead of eating food, they had eaten each other, but it had been tentative at first, despite the years of waiting and secret yearning.

Eyes closed, she could almost feel his delicate, loving touch, the pent up emotion that poured out of both of them and eventually made that first time such a delight, and so special. They giggled like a couple of teenagers on heat, as if it was the first time they had ever had sex in their lives.

Ultimately, despite their shy nervousness, the sex was great, and she recalled Jack voicing this opinion more than once. She agreed. He was hot, terrific in fact - gentle, unselfish, affectionate, and darned good at lovemaking. He excelled at those small loving moments that accompanied such an act between two people who loved each other dearly, although neither had yet declared it in words.

Jack stayed with her that night, before he returned to DC, and this first lovemaking session was not the last that day, or night. She woke and realized he lay next to her with his arms entwined around her naked body, and she felt unbelievably happy and content. Sam could not recall feeling anything quite like it before. He opened his eyes, meeting hers and saying "Hey, Sam," as if this was something that happened every day.

They spent the longest time possible in each other's arms, right up to the moment he had to get ready to leave for the airport. When he left, in an overly emotional state of mind, Sam cried because she missed Jack's embraces and caresses so much, especially not knowing when she would experience them again.

Jack called when he got back to DC, and the conversation might have been lacking, but the feeling was there. Words did not seem to matter. It was obvious they both felt something and could sense it in each other, even through the silent long pauses. He felt the lack of her presence, just as she did his, but the telephone had to suffice.

He called her a lot after that. They spoke, or not, virtually every night until they met again. She went to DC. Jack sent her a key to his place in Virginia and told her to let herself in. When he came home late from the Pentagon, she was waiting for him in bed as if she lived there, and Jack seemed delighted about that. It was so natural, so normal, so right.

They never looked back. The notion of getting married seemed natural and right too, and so unlike how she had felt when her previous two fiances had popped the question. Sam had not hesitated. She knew. Before, with Jonas and Pete, she had never really been sure - not blessed with the same certainty that she was doing the right thing.

Sam could not let go of that, of him. The time they had spent as a couple was too short, even while it had been long. Longer than many marriages, and probably way more satisfying. Accepting loss takes time, and she still had a long way to go. The funeral had seemed unreal, even the time spent with her friends afterwards, when she had tried to shed her loss in falling tears and sobs that had wracked her aging body, and her heart and soul, just as they did now.

By the time she finished crying, Sam had used up almost half a box of the Kleenex that would always make her think of her husband. Daniel had once told her a tale about Jack contacting him on Abydos all those years ago. The tissues make her recall it, and she smiled about him coming up with something so simple to prove a point. So like Jack. She loved that about him, but she loved so many things.

Her coffee remained untouched and was cold, so she went to make another before settling down with her wedding photographs once more. She looked at half a dozen before coming across something she actually remembered happening - their first dance together as husband and wife.

As they danced, it seemed as if they were the only people in the room, eyes only for each other. Jack had a grin plastered on his face, not that there was anything fake about it but because he could not have stopped grinning even if he had wanted to. She felt the same, mentally describing the feeling as deliriously overjoyed.

They had danced together before, had held each other in their arms many times, but this felt special. No doubt it was, given the situation. Once again, Jack whispered "Mrs. O'Neill" in her ear and kissed her.

Their union excited him incredibly, more than she had ever imagined he might be. After all, Jack had been married before when she had not. But this might as well have been his first time, and he could have been years younger than he was, because he felt younger. He looked it too.

In fact, he cut a dashing and handsome figure in his dress blues, dripping with the medals he'd fought long and hard to attain. He would never have asked for any of those accolades. A simple thank you and a pat on the back for a job well done might have sufficed. But Sam knew he was proud of those medals - each and every one. Jack appreciated being appreciated even if he had rarely sought it. He took great pride in his life's work, defending the country he loved so much, despite its faults.

Jack was a natural at that, and it showed. He might come over as cynical but he groomed this trait deliberately. For him, however, the honor of serving and protecting meant more than anything. It was fundamental to Jack O'Neill, something he was born to do and that he prized highly.

Most of the other events portrayed in the photographs were only vague memories in Sam's head - Cassie looking thrilled and happy, Daniel's smile, Teal'c's small bow, and hug. Even her brother and his family seemed pleased, something she never anticipated given Mark's views about the military. He liked Jack, thought he was a stand-up guy, even if he resented that she had not married his friend Pete as hoped. Mark realized this was what his sister really wanted, why marriage to Pete would never have worked. Jack O'Neill was the real deal for Sam.

The things she remembered most vividly about their wedding day involved Jack directly, and that outrageously gorgeous smile of his or his simple touch. The photograph of them getting into the car to leave brought back such a vivid memory, Sam could almost smell and feel it.

When it came down to it, what she recalled after that did not appear in any photograph, thank the Lord - Jack making love to her as Mrs. O'Neill for the very first time. He insisted on doing all the hard work, sweeping her off her feet both literally and figuratively, and out of her mind. Hot2, she thought.

Unbelievable and unforgettable even in the light of the many occasions they had made love before or since. Perhaps it was something to do with having got married, Sam was never sure, but it certainly seemed extra special.

Later in life, sex had become less important. They grew too old for it to be something they participated in so frequently, although they had their moments, even in Jack's old age.

Age mellowed Jack, mellowed both of them. Or perhaps it was nothing to do with age, but that they had mellowed each other. More likely, it was something to do with creaking joints and the onset of arthritis, the thought of which made Sam chuckle lightly, despite her self-pity. Jack and his wretched knees! Those knees always had been something of a standing joke, however serious they might be in reality.

Instead of the hot2 sex, companionship and affection became paramount in their lives, and they became pretty darned good at both of those. Jack was a demonstrative man, more with actions than words. The simplest of acts could speak of his enduring love and he felt she was similarly expressive. They were happy, content. Always.

Sure, they argued. Humdingers sometimes. One or other of them might stomp off lividly, leave the room or house and go elsewhere to cool off, calm down. They were a passionate pair, sometimes foolishly stubborn, but their military training and lives made restraint and self-control fundamental to both of them. Without that characteristic, their arguments might have been explosively volatile.

Often these rows were about something so stupid that, afterwards, they could barely recall what it was, or fathom why it had seemed so important. Frequently, it was one of those man/woman, Venus/Mars kinds of things that drove them to it, just as it was in most long term relationships.

Making up again was the best thing about their arguments. Jack always seemed to make up with her so stylishly. There was something about those moments; something about the way he did it and what he did. They hung heavily in the memory because they were unique, and Sam recalled the making up moments much better than most of the arguments that led to them.

Mostly a simple touch or kiss was enough, sometimes a gift, or a couple of words. The next thing she knew, they would be in each other's arms and all would be forgiven. She had nothing to regret about their relationship and, for this, Sam was grateful. She knew she had made him happy, just as he did her, and this meant a lot to her.

No, the only true regret she had was his death. Inevitable it might have been, eventually, but it had come too soon for her liking. She knew there never would have been a right time for it to happen so his loss ripped her heart to shreds. Sam knew her life had changed forever and, no matter how long she lived hereafter, she would always miss him and yearn for him.

But there were so very many wonderful memories, and she would have to console herself with those because there was nothing else left. Friendship and company could not compensate for her loss, but it might ease the pain somewhat.

Although tempted to continue her trawl through their old photographs, of which there were many, Sam decided against it. Getting up, she went to hide them away again, knowing there would be other days to seek them out once more. There would be other days to reminisce about their honeymoon, vacations, their parties and barbeques, and old team pictures - probably lots of long and lonely days.

When she had removed the photos from the old closet, Sam had been so preoccupied with finding them she had paid no heed to their location. Now, as she stood up from crouching to secrete them away, she realized the old clothes they lurked behind also brought back memories of Jack.

Both Daniel and Vala had offered to help her sort out her husband's old clothes and possessions, but Sam had resisted such action. She could not bear to part with him, or those memories of him, not yet. One day, she knew she would have to face that task, but why did it have to be so soon? Sam could not imagine any earthly reason why, so she stubbornly clung to what she possessed of Jack.

Her gifts to Teal'c were the first things she had parted with and, no doubt, more would follow. Daniel, for example, might want something to remember Jack by too, but there was no hurry for any of that.

Now, she found herself confronted by an array of Jack's old clothing, including uniforms. Fondly, she reached out to touch the blue fabric, running her fingers over the eagles that had designated him as a colonel, her team leader.

Old memories rushed back to her, memories of the days before they had come together as husband and wife and settled into their happy peace with each other. And, along with those old memories, the tears came unbidden to her eyes yet again, dampening the blue fabric of the uniform she caressed against her cheek.

This uniform had signified his rank as her Commanding Officer. It had meant so much to her, just as he had, inextricably uniting and bonding them, but also standing as a powerful obstacle to their feelings for what had seemed an unending time. Sam had admired, respected and loved Jack for so many years that it was almost too hard to recall a time in her life when she had not.

That love would remain with her until her dying day - always - and something about that notion made her smile. It was as if Jack reached out to her from beyond the grave. She could feel his touch, the whisper of his breath on her neck and his softly spoken words of love. The thought that he was watching over her, continuing to care for and protect her, calmed her. It always would.

TBC

Fic With Fins