Title: Time Waits For No Man
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Cameron Mitchell, Sam Carter, team
Rating: T
Warnings: A little on the dark/heavy side
Spoilers: none
Summary: Cameron is alone drifting in space...
Time Waits for No Man [prompt - ‘alone’]
There is a right time for everything:
A time to be born; A time to die...
A time to kill; A time to heal...
A time to find; A time to lose...
A time for war; A time for peace."
--- Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
Time. It’s supposed to be relative. It’s money. It’s good or bad. It flies. There never seems to be enough of it. Or there’s too much. Or you try to kill it. Or you waste it. Or you lose track of it.
Time. It seems to lose its meaning eventually, as if it’s done its job and if you can’t follow it, it just stops.
‘Just stop,’ a quiet voice penetrates deep in Cameron Mitchell’s mind. It’s too far away to tell, it could be his. Or Daniel. Or Teal’c. Or Sam. It’s all of them in one, maybe, with subtle tones of other friends long gone. He’s heard it before, a long time ago, or recently, and it’s been getting louder...
A blink, or a week, passes. Hours (minutes?) spent staring out into deep space. Stars so far away they barely move. Stars so unfamiliar Cameron can count the chance of rescue on one hand. Hours spent staring at the busted control panels, waiting for the call that will never come.
The dead silence of the escape pod is punctuated only by the angry growl of Cameron’s stomach, ignored since the emergency rations ran out yesterday. Or a week ago. Emergency rations for the ten people the pod could contain. Cameron thinks sometimes the pod would have been crowded with ten people crammed in it, and the food would have run out a long time ago. But the company might have been nice. Even one other person. The woman he’d found. The one he’d tried to save, holding her hand as they ran through corridors. But she went back for her kid. She’d let go.
‘Let go,’ the voice is back. Closer this time. More cruel, sending a shiver down Cameron’s spine. Not his own, he can tell now. And it’s not deep enough to be Teal’c’s. Though Teal’c would be good company right now. He could play cards. Poker. He could play poker with him. He’d lose every time against the Jaffa poker face, but the amusement in Teal’c’s eyes would be so good to see right now. Being beaten up in a sparring session would be so good to feel right now. Feeling something, anything, would be so good right now.
Sleep is restless. Or it could be deep. Lasting only hours. Or days. Sleep is full of nightmares of destruction. Fireballs. Loneliness. Death. Guilt.
SG-1 got separated, running for their lives from someone else’s enemy in a war they had no part in. For a change. Escape pods. No shame in surviving. They’re all over the ship; the others will find some too. They’ve survived too many situations like this not to. This wasn’t their war! This wasn’t fair! This isn’t how they die. This can’t be the end. Thumbing his radio: ‘Get out guys! Save yourselves! I’m sorry!’
“They had to have made it!” Cameron’s voice cracks out loud, angry tears streaming down his face. His mouth and throat feel like sandpaper. He hasn’t spoken since he stopped trying to radio for help. Though the voice of his thoughts is so loud in the silence he might be speaking them.
‘We didn’t make it,’ that evil voice is back. So close to Cameron’s ear that he gasps as a shiver runs involuntarily down his spine once again. He turns his head to look.
“S-Sam?” Eyes wide, searching for the source of the eerily familiar voice. Of course it was Sam. It had always been Sam. But she’s not there.
“Sam?” Cameron cries out in a sob and turns his whole body in his chair to search the small pod. He stands up on wobbly legs and searches with his hands, “Where are you?”
‘Here,’ behind him. Cameron spins fast and sees blond hair and a strange smile before darkness wraps its welcoming arms around him.
...
Floor. Hard Floor. Escape pod floor. Achy arms. Weak arms. Shaky legs. Cameron scrambles to stand up and holds the wall for support, leaning his head against its friendly cold surface.
‘Take your time,’ Taunting, evil, cruel. Totally familiar and welcome.
Cameron coughs out a laugh, not turning towards her.
“Time,” he says with a smile. It’s turned into a very good in-joke.
‘Were you planning on sitting this one out?’ The voice continues. It sounds like it’s moving, getting closer. ‘We waited for you. Almost too long.’
Cameron feels small hands placed gently on his hips. Human contact. Other human contact. It feels great. But then something’s wrong. Burning. Pain. Nails are digging in, puncturing the skin through the layers of clothes. Palms burn white hot, searing the skin they touch. Contact. Good contact. Pain, feeling. Pleasure.
The feeling escalates until Cameron gasps and wrenches free, throwing himself on the nearest chair and breathing heavily. After a few breaths, or eternity, he opens his eyes. Sam’s face is almost nose to nose with his, fire in her blue eyes. Cameron blinks and she’s gone, standing innocently by the opposite wall.
“What was that?” Cameron asks but Sam only smiles back at him in silence.
He places his hands on his hip and feels no evidence of marks, though the pain/pleasure is still ebbing away.
“What was that?” He asks again, putting his hands inside the sides of his pants and feels unmarked skin.
‘What you needed,’ Sam replies with a small shrug.
“I’m going crazy,”
‘People often go mad with guilt,’
“Guilt?”
‘Never leave a man behind,’ she’s closer again, ‘Sound familiar?’
Cameron lowers his eyes to the floor, “Yes,” he replies quietly.
‘And you still left us all behind!’
“NO!” Cameron yells and stands up fast. Fast enough he hits his head hard on the low ceiling, eyes widening as he sees Sam running straight for him, body position low, too fast to be trying to catch his fall.
Black.
...
‘Where are we?’ Cameron asks.
‘Nowhere,’ Sam answers from where she stands with her back to him, ‘and everywhere,’
‘I’ve - been here before,’ Cameron says as he looks around the featureless space.
Sam pauses, ‘Yes,’ she says and begins to walk, though she gets no further away from him, ‘When you were in Antarctica, after you got shot down,’
‘I’m dying?’
‘Perhaps,’ Sam replies simply with a shrug, continuing to walk.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Away,’
‘Why?’
‘This is your struggle,’
‘But - you’re here already,’
‘...Yes,’
‘And you’re not going anywhere,’
‘...No,’ she stops walking and they stand in silence for a long time. Or a heartbeat.
‘So,’
‘So,’
‘What now?’
Sam turns to face Cameron, ‘Now we wait,’
Cameron lets out a harsh laugh, ‘Right. Of Course,’
She begins to walk again, this time towards him. The space between them closes slowly.
‘Why are you here?’ he asks.
‘You wanted me here,’
‘No one was here last time,’
Sam shrugs, ‘I’m here now,’
‘Yeah,’ Cameron says with a smile, and Sam smiles back.
He moves to lie down and feels nothing pushing up against his back. Sam is lying next to him, watching and waiting with him. Cameron can feel her presence now, unlike in the pod. She hadn’t seemed all-real then.
‘How long will this take?’
‘How long did it take last time?’
‘...I don’t know,’
‘Then that’s how long this will take,’
There was silence. Cameron didn’t even try to fathom how long it lasted.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he says eventually.
‘Me too,’ he hears the smile in her voice and turns to see it in her face.
Lips are suddenly on his. Warm lips. Alive lips. Feeling without pain. Then they’re gone.
‘What?’ he asks, confused.
Sam smiles gently back at him, ‘Wake up,’
‘Wake up?’
‘Just - wake up,’
‘But-‘
‘Cam!’ Sam bursts out in a sob, tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks, ‘Just wake up, Cam, please!’
And now she’s over him, close again, but a different kind of close. She’s breathing warm on his face. Now arms are around his shoulders and a face in his neck. No pain. No burning.
‘What’s going on, Sam?’
‘It’s not me anymore,’ the voice is further away again. And it isn’t just Sam’s. It’s distorted again. It could be Daniel. Or Teal’c. Or General O’Neill. Or his Grandma.
‘Sam! Don’t leave me! What’s going on?'
Barely a whisper answers him.
“What’s going on?!”
“Cam?!”
Something jars, slamming hard into his brain. Cameron opens his eyes, which takes more effort than he would have thought was possible. He’s back in the escape pod, the cold floor hard against his back.
The face is gone from his neck and Sam’s face looms above him, red eyed and exhausted.
“Cam!” she sobs out again and Cameron can only stare at her as familiar, strong Jaffa arms haul him up like a ragdoll. He’s carried out of the pod door, into an Earth ship.
Voices mix incoherently around him. Daniel’s there. Vala. Teal’c. Sam...They’re all there. Dr Lam and her team. Everything mixing nauseatingly around.
But Cameron never takes his eyes from Sam as she walks beside them. His hand is in hers. Warm, familiar.
He uses all his strength to squeeze her fingers gently and she turns her face to his and smiles as she squeezes back.
“Thank you,” he whispers just before darkness smothers him again.