(no subject)
He wasn't certain how long it'd been since he'd found the letter and the tags, but he was fairly certain it was late afternoon now, and he had a hunch that he'd missed a training session with Teal'c. Teal'c...he could probably explain things to Teal'c, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wasn't sure he should explain it to anyone from New Atlantis. He knew how much it'd hurt to find them, and he'd seen what it did to Doctor Lam--even if she tried to stifle it in her cool exterior.
Doctor Lam. Good God what was he going to do about Doctor Lam? Every time he tried to think about it, his mind just went into one huge, endless loop. There wasn't an answer to what he could do, and it was terrifying. He'd been afraid before, of course. He'd been frightened of plenty of things in his life, and he wasn't too arrogant to say that. The island was pretty damn good at finding new and inventive ways to terrorize or otherwise make his life a living hell...but this was...beyond anything he could have guessed. In retrospect, it was an entirely naive assumption to believe that he would be safe from something so simple. So common. It was willful ignorance to believe he would be when others around him were not.
Yet, he still couldn't believe, even now. It was dizzying and confusing, and he couldn't think about it, because he couldn't figure out what the hell he was supposed to do about it. He could barely dare to acknowledge it, because this wasn't home. This wasn't a safe place, there was no safe harbor to retreat to, there were no guarantees, there weren't even maybes or warnings. He could turn around, and Doctor Lam would be gone. Vanished as if she never would. He could accept it all with open arms and the excitement he'd planned once, only to have it wiped away before he'd even seen his child. His child. Now he was just spiraling again, retreading old territory, spinning around and around again and repeating the same reactions like a comically broken record.
It was all too much. The letter, the news, the future. There was too much to figure out, too much to process. too much to calculate and to understand. There was all too much to grieve. For Sam. For the hope of someone finding them and taking them home. For a child who might never know the amazing world it came from, or even see its grandparents. For a child who might one day way up and find themselves orphaned for no other reason than the island's sick sense of humor.
There was to much to choose from, so he chose nothing. He simply sat in the middle of New Atlantis, on the very table he'd found the letter, and turned twisted, charred tags in his hands. He'd figure out how or whether he should explain about Sam's death at all to the others once he could focus on it again. He wasn't certain when he'd acknowledge Doctor Lam enough to even consider speaking about it a possibility.
[OOC: Cam's official item reaction EP! He's in a bit of shock right now, due to the double revelation he's just suffered, but company would be greatly welcome. Especially company willing to distract him, or to play the missing part of the optimist. The letter is this, and in his hands are matching dogtags--although they're greatly charred and twisted. If you'd like your pup to know, Cam will not have the conviction to stop them reading the letter lying on the table. If you'd like them not to know, Cam can generally be evasive and make the letter go away.]
Doctor Lam. Good God what was he going to do about Doctor Lam? Every time he tried to think about it, his mind just went into one huge, endless loop. There wasn't an answer to what he could do, and it was terrifying. He'd been afraid before, of course. He'd been frightened of plenty of things in his life, and he wasn't too arrogant to say that. The island was pretty damn good at finding new and inventive ways to terrorize or otherwise make his life a living hell...but this was...beyond anything he could have guessed. In retrospect, it was an entirely naive assumption to believe that he would be safe from something so simple. So common. It was willful ignorance to believe he would be when others around him were not.
Yet, he still couldn't believe, even now. It was dizzying and confusing, and he couldn't think about it, because he couldn't figure out what the hell he was supposed to do about it. He could barely dare to acknowledge it, because this wasn't home. This wasn't a safe place, there was no safe harbor to retreat to, there were no guarantees, there weren't even maybes or warnings. He could turn around, and Doctor Lam would be gone. Vanished as if she never would. He could accept it all with open arms and the excitement he'd planned once, only to have it wiped away before he'd even seen his child. His child. Now he was just spiraling again, retreading old territory, spinning around and around again and repeating the same reactions like a comically broken record.
It was all too much. The letter, the news, the future. There was too much to figure out, too much to process. too much to calculate and to understand. There was all too much to grieve. For Sam. For the hope of someone finding them and taking them home. For a child who might never know the amazing world it came from, or even see its grandparents. For a child who might one day way up and find themselves orphaned for no other reason than the island's sick sense of humor.
There was to much to choose from, so he chose nothing. He simply sat in the middle of New Atlantis, on the very table he'd found the letter, and turned twisted, charred tags in his hands. He'd figure out how or whether he should explain about Sam's death at all to the others once he could focus on it again. He wasn't certain when he'd acknowledge Doctor Lam enough to even consider speaking about it a possibility.
[OOC: Cam's official item reaction EP! He's in a bit of shock right now, due to the double revelation he's just suffered, but company would be greatly welcome. Especially company willing to distract him, or to play the missing part of the optimist. The letter is this, and in his hands are matching dogtags--although they're greatly charred and twisted. If you'd like your pup to know, Cam will not have the conviction to stop them reading the letter lying on the table. If you'd like them not to know, Cam can generally be evasive and make the letter go away.]
