TITLE: Given The Opportunity

AUTHOR: Pheral

E-MAIL: kamishka@hotmail.com




SPOILERS: Window Of Opportunity

CATEGORIES: Angst, Jackís POV.


Content Level: 13+

CONTENT WARNINGS: Just donít read it if youíre depressed for Godís sake!

SUMMARY: One of the things that Colonel OíNeill decided to try during a loop in ĎWindow of Opportunityí.

ARCHIVE PERMISSIONS: ThePointOfOrigin site, Helio, JackFic site.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and itís characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, this story is for fun and I sure as hell didnít get any money. No copyright infringement is intended and you canít post this story anywhere else without asking me first damnit! But Iíll probably say yes Ďcos Iím orfully nice.


AUTHORS NOTE: Yay for Ruth the wonder-horse (no, wait, wonder-beta. Sorry, got carried away!) And massive thanks to the JackFic group who helped me think of a title and revise the end to make this a better and much more depressing drabble! Mmm. I repeat Ė poor old Jack. Feedback? (if you survive the fic that is) Read on MacGyver. (sorry, MacDuff)

Given The Opportunity

I donít know quite why Iím here. Some perverse curiosity I guess. Iíve imagined myself in this situation so many times Ė desperate to go through with it. Iíve dreamt of it, daydreamed of it, longed for it. But that was when Charlie died, when my soul was lost and I had nothing, now things have changed. I remember the longing though Ė I remember how badly I wanted something to end my life for me, so I wouldnít have to find it in me to pull the trigger and send myself to hell. Because whatever hell is like, it has to be better than what I was feeling back then, what I occasionally feel now.

So here I am, fingering a cold, hard gun. Examining all its parts, staring down the barrel, wondering if this means Iím crazy. I didnít do it then, but I could do it now. Knowing things would always go back to normal, go back toÖFruitloops. What could be so harmful about that?

I canít help but wonder what it feels like - suicide. Something I was so desperate to have the strength to do back then, something I had to try and get the Stargate mission to do for me instead. I also canít help but be a little scared that once Iíd done it I might become blasť. It sounds weird but itís like the feeling you get when youíre sitting in a totally silent room full of people and you get this terrible feeling that youíre about to stand up and scream, just because you can.

I used to get that feeling for a while after the Abydos mission, when I had decided that perhaps suicide wasnít the answer, decided that there were other ways and that I had to find the strength to face them. I found the strength Ė to live Ė and Iím glad. Itís led to a great many good things. But I used to get that feeling for a long while after I decided to live. I used to get back to my temporary quarters, take my gun out of the holster and experience that flash of fear that I might suddenly pick it up, aim it at my head and pull the trigger. Iíd stare at it for long moments waiting for it to happen, but it never did, the fear passed and Iíd jam it down on some table Ė out of reach and out of mind.

It looks the same as it always did, my faithful sidearm, itís saved me a good many times. Now I am both scared and exhilarated to see what it would feel like to have it save me from life, from memories, from fear and pain and terrible regret.

I check my watch, itís nearly time, close to the gate activating and the loop happening over again. If Iím to do this I have to do it just before the loop ends - I wouldnít want anyone else to get involved, this is mine and mine alone to do and feel. Once it is over it will be gone, and there will be no repercussions, no pain, not for me nor for any of the people here on base. That would not be fair. And certainly Tealíc is not aware, I told him I needed privacy this loop and he respects that, I believe he has things of his own to do given this opportunity.

It was strange that this was the first thing that popped into my head when Daniel suggested that we could do anything. It wasnít a dominating thought of course, it just flashed by in a millisecond Ė hardly noticed while other evil and very interesting ideas came to mind. It disappeared while I went about my fun, I didnít really notice it at all.

Then the thought came back, and it stayed, and I find myself here staring that thought in the faceÖdown the barrel. I can feel fear curling round my hand as I grip the gun hard, watching my knuckles turn white. My breath speeds up, I can feel myself ready to do it, and that scares me. It scares me that I have it in me to end my life, that I was so close to doing it after Charlie died.

Charlie. He died like this. Is there some justice in that? That I should wish to die as he did? Wished Jack, not wish. Wished. I no longer wish to kill myself, Iím doing this out of curiosity Ė a stupid, clumsy word to describe this, but fairly accurate I guess.

One minute. One minute Ďtil Fruitloops. Time to go Jack. Time to go. I finger the barrel, finding myself morbidly wondering what Iíll look like after I pull the trigger. I canít help it, every detail fascinates me, and if Iím to dispel it from my dreams I feel I must absorb every moment. I lift it to my head, settling it against my temple on the right side. Itís cold, like my heart, steely and hard.

Half a minute, half a minute Ďtil Fruitloops Jack. Now or never.

I pull the trigger.


ĎAnyway Iím sorry but that just happens to be how I feel about it, what do you think?í

What do I think? What do I think.

I think it wasnít as spectacularly earth shattering as I felt it should have been. Here I am, and there Charlie is.

It didnít hurt, and that is some small comfort, but it didnít change anything for me, I have the same fears and the same regrets. The same pain. I suppose it is foolish to expect that someday it will just go away, foolish but one of the only things that allows me to function every day Ė without hope we are nothing and I feel the truth of that every day. Suicide was my miracle cure all those months, my last resort should all else fail and should my heart give out. It stayed there, floating in dreams, I was always aware that there was a back door and as time passed it floated further and further away. Strange then that now Ė when it is at itís furthest Ė I should get the opportunity to face it.

Not many people can say theyíve taken their last resort, not many can say theyíve died, not many can say theyíve died the same way their son did. It wonít be the last time Iíll blink away to nothing, Iíll die again someday.

Someday it will be over, someday the choices, the responsibility and the decision to live will be taken away from me once and for all. Nothing lasts forever - why is it that we notice that most in the things that we love? The love for Charlie that made me so inconsolably high every time I saw him sleeping, every time I made him smile, every time he called me dad. Nothing lasts forever Jack. But if only he could have lasted for just a little longer. Just a little longer.


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