Tumble and Fall [10 - 11]
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author’s Notes: This chapter went through so many permutations, hence the months between updates. I hope this is sufficient. I decide I would only write one response to The Quest, even though that story was two episodes long. Anyway, this takes place after The Quest Part II.
Summary: For when she’s this vulnerable and this open, I see her for who she really is and I sympathize. I sympathize and hate myself for liking her as much as I do. [Sam/Vala friendship; eventual Sam/Vala; spoilers for all of season 10]
Tumble and Fall
by e-dog
10-11. The Quest: Checkmate
I know Cameron meant well. He’s tough on Vala because he knows she can take it. She can handle anything and he only speaks sharply, with edge in his words to reiterate the seriousness of our situation. He only means to help strengthen her, but just because Vala understands war and loss and sacrifice, doesn’t mean she’s ever experienced it first hand. She’s just as fragile as anyone.
Daniel was her first real friend, way back before they even realized they were friends. Their bond is unique.
While Cameron’s approach is usually the most appropriate for military officers, it will take more than ambitious words to console Vala.
I stand next to Cameron in silence, long after Vala’s resentful exit. Finally, he breaks the quiet and says, “She’ll be alright. We all will be. Jackson doesn’t die easy.”
His humor falls flat and I try to agree anyway, but I know what I feel. I don’t feel good. I know Vala doesn’t feel good either.
“Checkmate. Again.”
“No way,” I mutter, viewing the board before me in disbelief. I glance up at Teal’c warily and ask for probably the umpteenth time, “Are you sure you’ve never played chess before?”
“Perhaps I haven’t been entirely truthful,” Teal’c answers simply, a hint of a smile on his lips. If it weren’t so rare to see the Jaffa smile, I might just smack that smirk right off his face. He nods toward the board and asks, “Would you like to set up again?”
“And keep losing? I think my ego has been bruised enough, thanks,” I joke, gathering up the pieces. Teal’c and I continue to clean up in silence.
We’re going into day three of our mandatory seven day vacation. Playing chess with Teal’c has helped to pass the time. I have yet to win a game, however. I’m thinking tomorrow we’ll pick a new game.
Currently, our orders are to take it easy, the loss of Daniel hurting us in more ways than one. While we’ll always appreciate his language deciphering wizardry, Daniel has grown into quite the soldier himself over the years. Planning our missions will definitely change tactically, having one less gun on our side. His interpersonal skills will also be greatly missed. He has a way with Vala that the rest of us don’t.
She hasn’t spoken to any us since we lost him.
We leave the recreational room in relative order, and while we stroll down the empty corridor, I know we both secretly hope for some galactic emergency that’ll require SG-1 to join the front lines.
Teal’c muses aloud, almost reading my thoughts, “The halls have been quiet.”
“Yeah,” I agree, even though the SGC itself hasn’t gone on vacation. There are still missions and intelligence gatherings and strange Goa’uld springing up from time to time. Landry’s just keeping SG-1 away from it all. Keeping me from my lab. Truthfully, I’m mostly upset that I’ve been banned from my work.
We round another corner, the next corridor leading to our private quarters. Vala has spent much of her time locked within hers. Yeah, I know. When Teal’c says ‘the halls have been quiet’, he really means to say ‘Vala isn’t gliding around on roller blades up and down the halls, wreaking havoc every which way and turn’.
I can’t help but sigh aloud as it occurs to me how much I actually miss the disruptions.
“I have not seen Vala Mal Doran for quite some time,” Teal’c says. Yet another obvious observation, a reiteration of his first statement, but this time more direct in its meaning. I would suspect that Teal’c is trying to hint at something, but he’s really not that surreptitious. This is real concern emitting from him. Maybe he misses the spontaneity as well.
“Cameron said he checked in with her this morning,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. “He said she seemed okay. She was flirting. He was uncomfortable. Normal stuff.”
Teal’c looks at me as we reach his door. “You are not convinced?”
I half-smile at him. Sometimes, I wish he didn’t know me so well. I nod toward her door, say, “I’ll go check on her.”
“She will be fine,” Teal’c tells me, his tone warmer than usual. It’s that tone that has me reconsidering the sneakiness I once thought absent in my friend. He’s not stupid and while I haven’t mentioned this dance between Vala and myself to Teal’c, I think he suspects something. He observes, just like everyone else. He can come to his own conclusions. He just won’t overtly tease me like Cameron does, but he is trying his best to lead me. Maybe get me to admit something I’m not ready to admit yet.
Teal’c adds, “She’s dealt with loss before.”
On this, I’m not sure I agree. “I don’t know, Teal’c. She’s a lone con artist. No family, no connections to a home, if she ever had one. Losing Daniel is different.”
“Perhaps.” We stand there a moment, before Teal’c reminds me, “You were going to check on her.”
“Right,” I say, chuckling nervously, though I’m not sure why I’m nervous.
Teal’c bows, his customary way of saying goodnight. I say goodnight with a smile.
So, down the hall I go and once I reach Vala’s door, I knock boldly.
Then a sudden wave of apprehension comes over me as I honestly don’t know what to expect from Vala right now. It could be buckets of tears, bitter and violent behavior, overt sexual advances. I just don’t know and as the door creaks open, I stiffen up and brace for impact.
“Sam?”
Well. I find myself gawking and I really shouldn’t be.
Vala’s wrapped up in a long terry robe, a rather conservative choice of sleepwear and that alone should give me pause for concern. It’s not just her attire, however. It’s everything about her. Her hair is tied up. What little make-up she has applied is light and natural. It’s all very much the opposite of her usually exuberant color choices.
Her arms are crossed and her stance both timid and aloof. She’s not the Vala I’m used to.
“Well?” Vala huffs out, her impatience also dismaying.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, break the trance I was in. I feel bashful.. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Vala studies the floor, her arms crossed even tighter. “And if I said that I was?”
Quietly I tell her, “I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Well, believe it,” Vala says firmly. “And I’m not hungry, I don’t want to ‘take a walk’ or do anything. I’m perfectly alright staying in here until our next mission and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind.”
The look of determination on her face is rather adorable, even if I shouldn’t think so at this moment.
Maybe I should fight her, pressure her to live again, but I never was one to purposely seek out confrontation. Besides, I know if I were in her position, I’d lock myself away too.
I back away from the doorway and tell her, “Okay. If you need anything, let us know.”
She’s clearly surprised by my response. “Wait. What?”
I shrug. “What?”
“You’re not going to lecture or tell me how much better I’ll feel if I eat something or exercise or some dullard crap like that?”
I shake my head, “Nope.”
Vala studies me, assessing my answers. Finally, she says, “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes looking a bit glazed with grief.
I want to tell her we’ll find Daniel. That she’ll be okay. We’ll get through this together, but it sounds cheesy in my head and it’ll sound even cheesier said aloud.
I take a step back, go to say goodbye, but I’m suddenly in her arms as she clutches me toward her. Her fingers grasp at my black tee, her embrace bordering desperation, dread. I timidly return the hug as her head settles against my shoulder and I feel every ounce of her sorrow seep through my skin. I have to steel myself, not in order to strengthen myself for Vala, but to keep my own heart from falling to pieces.
I miss Daniel just as much as she does, if not more. I cried once over his death. I don’t plan to cry again.
“C’mon, let’s get something to eat,” I say. “We can talk. Or not talk.”
Vala won’t really budge, but she does speak, almost a whisper into my shoulder. “I miss him.”
“I know,” I say.
That’s when Vala pulls back just enough to see my face, her cheeks stained with tears. She asks inquisitively, perhaps almost painfully, “Why am I the only one who’s an emotional wreck? Have you grown so accustomed to losing one another that you’re now numb to it all?”
“I’ve been trained to accept losses,” I reply steadfastly. Vala’s eyes seem to darken at my answer, so I grasp her arms and say firmly, “But don’t think for a second that I’m accustomed to this. You never get used to losing people close to you. It’s the risk you take, joining a team.”
“You sound like Mitchell,” Vala huffs stubbornly.
“Cameron knows what he’s talking about,” I say softly now, letting Vala go and stepping back again. “The offer to join me for dinner is still on the table.”
Vala uses both hands to wipe at her cheeks, erasing remnants of running make-up and angry tears. She mumbles something about having to make herself more presentable and shuts the door.
I stare at the door for several long minutes, then turn loose a shuddering breath. Quivering lips won’t stop trembling and if I start crying now, I might just die. I might just crumble right now and I can’t do that because I’m Samantha Carter. I’m a member of SG-1 and I . . .
I’m tired of losing people.
Vala reopens her door, wearing attire more like herself, hair done up in pigtails. I straighten up, smile as warmly as I can. She eyes me curiously, probably sensing my unease, but she says nothing on it. We walk together in silence and I think how close I just came to shattering.
Vala has the freedom to break. She doesn’t necessarily have to be strong for anyone else, but I’ve built a reputation here. I can lead, if necessary. I am strong and will be strong for others, but hearing Vala accuse me of numb regard toward the loss of a friend ignites a jealously unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Vala can fall apart if she wants to. I can’t. I’m not supposed to.
I stop, suddenly. She stops with me, looks at me. Maybe I’m not supposed to break, but I can try to bend.
I meet Vala’s eyes, admit reluctantly, “The last time I allowed myself to really cry for someone, I mean, really cried. . .we lost Janet. For weeks, I cried myself to sleep.”
“Who’s Janet?” she asks innocently.
I smile sadly now, proudly say, “She was my best friend.”
Vala grabs hold of my hand, gently squeezes. She requests shyly, “Tell me about her?”
So I do. I share my memories of Janet. Some secrets, my adoration. All of this for the first time in nearly two years. In return, Vala does something I never once considered she was capable of doing.
She listens.
Previous chapters:
( 9. Company of Thieves: Honesty)
( 8. Memento Mori: Telling Stories )
( 7. Counterstrike: Responsibility )
( 6. 200: Believe )
( 5. Uninvited: Cuddle )
( 4. Insiders: Battle Makes The Heart Grow Fonder )
( 3. The Pegasus Project: Sleepover )
( 2. Morpheus: Lunch and Loot )
( 1. Flesh and Blood: Trust is a Two Way Street )