(no subject)
Title The Death Routine
Fandom Stargate: SG1
Rating G
Summary She hated The Death Routine
Notes So, I signed up to participate in stargate_las. This is my second attempt to write for this weeks prompt. This is also the second time I've realized that I didn't write for the prompt. So typically me. Also, this is not a happy story.
Sam sighed as she ran through her mental list once again, trying to make sure that she wasn't over looking anything.
She hated The Death Routine.
Some might call what she did a ritual, but she preferred to think of it as a routine. It was easier to separate herself from the sadness and trauma of the moment if it was a routine and not a ritual. She sighed a little to herself as she straightened her dress blues once again, making sure her ribbons were on straight and her rank pins were shiny.
Her hat was sitting beside her on the bed, her trench and shoes by the front door. The note cards that she probably wouldn't even really need were tied together with a rubber band and tucked neatly into her purse.
She was ready to go but couldn't seem to make herself stand up from the bed and leave the room.
She was burying her father today and some small part of her was convinced that if she didn't go through with The Death Routine, it wouldn't happen. Mark and his family wouldn't be waiting for their escort to the funeral, she wouldn't have to be reminded that Daniel was still missing, that Pete was no longer in her life and that her relationship with General O'Neill was just as complicated and ambiguous as always.
But the logical part of her brain won out. The Death Routine was going to go on whether she was there or not. Mark and his family would meet their escort at the entrance to their hotel, Daniel would still be missing and she and O'Neill would still be whatever the hell it was that they were.
"Sam?" Her head jerked up at the sound of a very familiar voice and she wasn't sure what shocked her more; the fact that O'Neill had made it this far into her house without her hearing or that he had called her Sam.
"I'm ready," was all she said as she stood from the bed. He grabbed her hat before she could and stood aside to let her slip out of the room before him. Faintly, she felt his hand come to settle on the small of her back as he ushered her towards the front door. He helped her put on her coat and helped her make sure she had everything she needed before slipping out the front door ahead of her so she could lock it.
On the drive, she let her mind wander, the landscape outside the windows of the car turning into a blur. Things snapped back into focus when she felt O'Neill take her hand in his and simply hang on. She glanced down at their hands for a moment before turning her attention back to the window. As the car came to a stop and he offered her a hand to help her slip out of the car, she couldn't help but wonder when The Death Routine had expanded to include him by her side.
"Ready?" he asked quietly, slipping his own hat on and handing her hers. She'd nearly forgotten that he had it.
"As I'll ever be," she said quietly, slipping her own hat on. He drifted away from her as she met up with Mark and his family and she couldn't help but miss his calm already.
Fandom Stargate: SG1
Rating G
Summary She hated The Death Routine
Notes So, I signed up to participate in stargate_las. This is my second attempt to write for this weeks prompt. This is also the second time I've realized that I didn't write for the prompt. So typically me. Also, this is not a happy story.
Sam sighed as she ran through her mental list once again, trying to make sure that she wasn't over looking anything.
She hated The Death Routine.
Some might call what she did a ritual, but she preferred to think of it as a routine. It was easier to separate herself from the sadness and trauma of the moment if it was a routine and not a ritual. She sighed a little to herself as she straightened her dress blues once again, making sure her ribbons were on straight and her rank pins were shiny.
Her hat was sitting beside her on the bed, her trench and shoes by the front door. The note cards that she probably wouldn't even really need were tied together with a rubber band and tucked neatly into her purse.
She was ready to go but couldn't seem to make herself stand up from the bed and leave the room.
She was burying her father today and some small part of her was convinced that if she didn't go through with The Death Routine, it wouldn't happen. Mark and his family wouldn't be waiting for their escort to the funeral, she wouldn't have to be reminded that Daniel was still missing, that Pete was no longer in her life and that her relationship with General O'Neill was just as complicated and ambiguous as always.
But the logical part of her brain won out. The Death Routine was going to go on whether she was there or not. Mark and his family would meet their escort at the entrance to their hotel, Daniel would still be missing and she and O'Neill would still be whatever the hell it was that they were.
"Sam?" Her head jerked up at the sound of a very familiar voice and she wasn't sure what shocked her more; the fact that O'Neill had made it this far into her house without her hearing or that he had called her Sam.
"I'm ready," was all she said as she stood from the bed. He grabbed her hat before she could and stood aside to let her slip out of the room before him. Faintly, she felt his hand come to settle on the small of her back as he ushered her towards the front door. He helped her put on her coat and helped her make sure she had everything she needed before slipping out the front door ahead of her so she could lock it.
On the drive, she let her mind wander, the landscape outside the windows of the car turning into a blur. Things snapped back into focus when she felt O'Neill take her hand in his and simply hang on. She glanced down at their hands for a moment before turning her attention back to the window. As the car came to a stop and he offered her a hand to help her slip out of the car, she couldn't help but wonder when The Death Routine had expanded to include him by her side.
"Ready?" he asked quietly, slipping his own hat on and handing her hers. She'd nearly forgotten that he had it.
"As I'll ever be," she said quietly, slipping her own hat on. He drifted away from her as she met up with Mark and his family and she couldn't help but miss his calm already.