#003 Vibrations (Sam, mild Sam/Daniel)
Title: Vibrations
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Sam, Sam/Daniel (if you squint)
Prompt: #003 Iris [Purple set]
Word Count: 371
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for writing_rainbow.
A drilling noise sounded through the gateroom as Sam followed the rest of SG-1 down the ramp and towards safety. She glanced back just in time to see the iris close over the swirling blue depths that was the wormhole matter stream and flinched visibly when a loud thunk resounded through the room.
She could feel the vibrations from it run up and down her body and the knowledge that someone had just died because of them weighed heavy on her conscience. She swallowed and told herself once more that they had to do it. It had to have happened.
She moved quickly through the door, pushing past the rest of her team and made for her lab. She’d worry about changing later. Right now, she needed to sit and think. She needed to regain control of her emotions before she could no longer resist the urge to grab a P-90 and shoot something.
“Sam?”
She turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice and forced a grim smile onto her face. “I’m fine, Daniel,” she told him, simply. She ran her tongue over her lip and pierced him with level blue eyes.
Daniel nodded silently and she could tell he didn’t believe her, but he continued on his way without another word. She watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight.
It was just another day of the job; another meaningless day, she told herself.
She repeated it over and over.
It didn’t quite sink in and she knew it was because it wasn’t just another day.
Someone had died because of them.
Someone had died.
Her throat felt like it was closing in on itself and she could feel a burning at the back of her eyes. They had done this. They had…
She stopped herself and quickened her pace.
Once she had made it to her lab, she shut the door, locked it and allowed herself to slump into her chair, head in her hands. A loud sigh escaped her lips and she sunk wearily to her desk.
This, today, had happened. She couldn’t change it. All she could do was move on and make sure that next time…next time, there would be no deaths.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters: Sam, Sam/Daniel (if you squint)
Prompt: #003 Iris [Purple set]
Word Count: 371
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for writing_rainbow.
A drilling noise sounded through the gateroom as Sam followed the rest of SG-1 down the ramp and towards safety. She glanced back just in time to see the iris close over the swirling blue depths that was the wormhole matter stream and flinched visibly when a loud thunk resounded through the room.
She could feel the vibrations from it run up and down her body and the knowledge that someone had just died because of them weighed heavy on her conscience. She swallowed and told herself once more that they had to do it. It had to have happened.
She moved quickly through the door, pushing past the rest of her team and made for her lab. She’d worry about changing later. Right now, she needed to sit and think. She needed to regain control of her emotions before she could no longer resist the urge to grab a P-90 and shoot something.
“Sam?”
She turned at the sound of Daniel’s voice and forced a grim smile onto her face. “I’m fine, Daniel,” she told him, simply. She ran her tongue over her lip and pierced him with level blue eyes.
Daniel nodded silently and she could tell he didn’t believe her, but he continued on his way without another word. She watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight.
It was just another day of the job; another meaningless day, she told herself.
She repeated it over and over.
It didn’t quite sink in and she knew it was because it wasn’t just another day.
Someone had died because of them.
Someone had died.
Her throat felt like it was closing in on itself and she could feel a burning at the back of her eyes. They had done this. They had…
She stopped herself and quickened her pace.
Once she had made it to her lab, she shut the door, locked it and allowed herself to slump into her chair, head in her hands. A loud sigh escaped her lips and she sunk wearily to her desk.
This, today, had happened. She couldn’t change it. All she could do was move on and make sure that next time…next time, there would be no deaths.