Snapshots 1: Not Enough
The first "Snapshots" vignette.
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Snapshots: Not Enough
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Series is rated NC-17
ARCHIVE: Only on author's website
SPOILERS: Through "Ripple Effect"
CATEGORIES: Angst, implied Sam/Martouf, shades of Sam/Jack, team
This is the first installment in a series of vignettes collectively titled "Snapshots: Some Kind of Love Story". The stories do not always fall in chronological order, but in an artistic one. Each of the vignettes can likely be read alone (to varying degrees), though taken as a whole they're meant to paint a larger picture -- of some kind of love story.
Huge beta thanks to kudra1, majorsamfan, pax89, surrealphantast, and Teddy E.
NOT ENOUGH
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2006
Daniel watched the shadows above Janet's cheekbones. She'd been near the end of a 16-hour shift when the Klaxon had sounded and SG-1 had rolled in hot. The team had been unhurt--strictly cuts and bruises--except for Sam. Sam had taken a nasty hit from an alien weapon and hit the ground screaming. She'd been conscious through it all, but hardly able to walk.
Hours of assessment and testing had led Janet to believe the effects of the blast would wear off in a day or two, likely with no lingering effects. But the pain was severe. Daniel had never seen Sam in this kind of prolonged agony. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and she lay curled on the infirmary cot, clutching her stomach, breath catching on every inhale.
Janet had upped the doses of painkillers coursing into Sam's vein. The staff was waiting for the drugs to take effect, and the wired hush in the air crackled electric. Nothing worse for a medical staff than watching suffering they couldn’t stop. Most of the personnel on duty tonight knew Sam Carter well enough to sit at her table for lunch.
Whatever chemical Janet pumped into those tubes wouldn't be enough to keep the next 48 hours from being damned miserable for Sam, Daniel knew this. Jolinar had left some lingering marks on Sam's physiology--she could weather enough painkiller to take down a horse and still feel little relief. Even Sam's occasional migraines had become a challenge to treat. Not the best legacy, but a fair exchange for her life. Sam's words.
Daniel slumped in the molded plastic chair shoved up against the infirmary wall. Jack stood not five feet away, arms crossed as he hovered beside the door, an immovable sentry. He hadn't taken his eyes off Carter since their return. Janet had conceded to let a brave nurse check O'Neill’s vitals as he stood by Carter's bedside.
Sam shifted beneath the stiff bed sheets, caught her breath and released it on a trembling sigh. Daniel wasn't certain she knew how many of the team were still around. She was groggy from the meds, more wrapped up in survival than head counts. Janet moved closer and stroked Sam's hair.
"I'm all right," he heard Sam whisper. Leave it to Sam to be worrying about Janet right now. Anything to keep the sympathy off of her.
"Ssssshhhhh, just rest," Janet soothed. Daniel closed his eyes. Janet's voice had quieted all their nightmares at one time or another. Their house mother. House angel, perhaps.
Jack sniffed sharply, and Daniel opened his eyes. The frown creases in his friend's brow were running nearly as deep as Sam's.
"She's gonna be all right, Jack," Daniel said.
Jack nodded, eyes still locked on Carter's curled form. "Yeah, she will."
"Have we sent word to the Tok'ra?"
Jack blinked, turned to face him, confusion hazing his dark eyes. "What?"
"The Tok'ra. Have we sent word?"
Jack's eyes narrowed, his expression forming an unspoken question.
"About Sam,” Daniel continued, "I--"
"I thought Jacob was off on an undercover mission. As long as Carter's gonna be all right, I don't think she would want to--"
"Oh, uh.... well, yes, yes, I think he is, I just...I meant Martouf...actually. Don't you think we should contact Martouf?"
Jack's throat muscles worked as he swallowed.
"I mean...Sam probably would like..."
Daniel let the words hang in the air.
Jack nodded, his expression closed. He returned his gaze to Carter's cubicle. "Yeah. Sure, yeah, that'd.... Could you, uh...could you ask Harriman to get on that? You were going for some coffee, anyway, right?"
Daniel nodded, watching Jack's profile in the unforgiving light. He wanted to say something. There was nothing to say. "Yeah, I did need coffee. You want some?"
"What?"
"Coffee."
"Oh. Yeah, thanks. Could be a long night, hunh?"
"'Fraid so. Teal'c should be back soon, we can take shifts. And hopefully the meds will help." The words were empty.
"Never have before." The threadiness in Jack's voice made Daniel's throat hurt. He nodded at the inevitable truth, gripped his friend's shoulder as he passed, and Jack grunted vague acknowledgement.
This wasn't the first time they had all drawn together when a teammate was down.
It was the first time they felt they weren't enough.
*****
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, the SG-1 guys are all property of MGM, World Gekko Corp, and Double Secret productions. This is all in fun, no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. All other characters, ideas, etc., herein are copyrighted to the author.
TITLE: Snapshots: Not Enough
AUTHOR: Rowan Darkstar
RATING: Series is rated NC-17
ARCHIVE: Only on author's website
SPOILERS: Through "Ripple Effect"
CATEGORIES: Angst, implied Sam/Martouf, shades of Sam/Jack, team
This is the first installment in a series of vignettes collectively titled "Snapshots: Some Kind of Love Story". The stories do not always fall in chronological order, but in an artistic one. Each of the vignettes can likely be read alone (to varying degrees), though taken as a whole they're meant to paint a larger picture -- of some kind of love story.
Huge beta thanks to kudra1, majorsamfan, pax89, surrealphantast, and Teddy E.
NOT ENOUGH
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2006
Daniel watched the shadows above Janet's cheekbones. She'd been near the end of a 16-hour shift when the Klaxon had sounded and SG-1 had rolled in hot. The team had been unhurt--strictly cuts and bruises--except for Sam. Sam had taken a nasty hit from an alien weapon and hit the ground screaming. She'd been conscious through it all, but hardly able to walk.
Hours of assessment and testing had led Janet to believe the effects of the blast would wear off in a day or two, likely with no lingering effects. But the pain was severe. Daniel had never seen Sam in this kind of prolonged agony. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and she lay curled on the infirmary cot, clutching her stomach, breath catching on every inhale.
Janet had upped the doses of painkillers coursing into Sam's vein. The staff was waiting for the drugs to take effect, and the wired hush in the air crackled electric. Nothing worse for a medical staff than watching suffering they couldn’t stop. Most of the personnel on duty tonight knew Sam Carter well enough to sit at her table for lunch.
Whatever chemical Janet pumped into those tubes wouldn't be enough to keep the next 48 hours from being damned miserable for Sam, Daniel knew this. Jolinar had left some lingering marks on Sam's physiology--she could weather enough painkiller to take down a horse and still feel little relief. Even Sam's occasional migraines had become a challenge to treat. Not the best legacy, but a fair exchange for her life. Sam's words.
Daniel slumped in the molded plastic chair shoved up against the infirmary wall. Jack stood not five feet away, arms crossed as he hovered beside the door, an immovable sentry. He hadn't taken his eyes off Carter since their return. Janet had conceded to let a brave nurse check O'Neill’s vitals as he stood by Carter's bedside.
Sam shifted beneath the stiff bed sheets, caught her breath and released it on a trembling sigh. Daniel wasn't certain she knew how many of the team were still around. She was groggy from the meds, more wrapped up in survival than head counts. Janet moved closer and stroked Sam's hair.
"I'm all right," he heard Sam whisper. Leave it to Sam to be worrying about Janet right now. Anything to keep the sympathy off of her.
"Ssssshhhhh, just rest," Janet soothed. Daniel closed his eyes. Janet's voice had quieted all their nightmares at one time or another. Their house mother. House angel, perhaps.
Jack sniffed sharply, and Daniel opened his eyes. The frown creases in his friend's brow were running nearly as deep as Sam's.
"She's gonna be all right, Jack," Daniel said.
Jack nodded, eyes still locked on Carter's curled form. "Yeah, she will."
"Have we sent word to the Tok'ra?"
Jack blinked, turned to face him, confusion hazing his dark eyes. "What?"
"The Tok'ra. Have we sent word?"
Jack's eyes narrowed, his expression forming an unspoken question.
"About Sam,” Daniel continued, "I--"
"I thought Jacob was off on an undercover mission. As long as Carter's gonna be all right, I don't think she would want to--"
"Oh, uh.... well, yes, yes, I think he is, I just...I meant Martouf...actually. Don't you think we should contact Martouf?"
Jack's throat muscles worked as he swallowed.
"I mean...Sam probably would like..."
Daniel let the words hang in the air.
Jack nodded, his expression closed. He returned his gaze to Carter's cubicle. "Yeah. Sure, yeah, that'd.... Could you, uh...could you ask Harriman to get on that? You were going for some coffee, anyway, right?"
Daniel nodded, watching Jack's profile in the unforgiving light. He wanted to say something. There was nothing to say. "Yeah, I did need coffee. You want some?"
"What?"
"Coffee."
"Oh. Yeah, thanks. Could be a long night, hunh?"
"'Fraid so. Teal'c should be back soon, we can take shifts. And hopefully the meds will help." The words were empty.
"Never have before." The threadiness in Jack's voice made Daniel's throat hurt. He nodded at the inevitable truth, gripped his friend's shoulder as he passed, and Jack grunted vague acknowledgement.
This wasn't the first time they had all drawn together when a teammate was down.
It was the first time they felt they weren't enough.
*****