Genre: Angst, apocofic
Pairing: slight S/J
Rating: PG to PG-13, just to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: I'm posting from a $150 laptop. Obviously don't own Stargate, or anything else that would result in riches and/or fame.
Summary: As it turns out, the end of the world is a spectacularly boring event.
Feedback will be met with the happy dance. You'll be happy you won't actually see me do it, because I'm a spaz.
As it turns out, the end of the world is a spectacularly boring event.
It’s harrowing, of course. And heart breaking, and all the guilt associated with surviving it rises. But the slow creep of white across the planet, while unstoppable, takes months.
And the boredom makes her and Jack feel worse, because Anubis stole the Stargate and no one can get off the planet (except for Jack, because the Asgard have always liked him, and he’s not leaving Carter behind, dammit) which means there’s no rescue to mount, no rush to the Beta site to oversee. Just a slow creep towards the population dwindling to something around fifteen, if you count the SG teams stranded off world.
In her lighter moments, Sam thinks about Adam and Eve and if the whole world could start from two people surely fifteen would be enough.
She doesn’t think about the flood and Noah because that’s too close to what she sees out the viewport every morning.
She and Jack meet in the observation room every morning to see the crawl of winter across their planet, watching every day in tense fascination. Their loyalty comes from the ridiculous certainty that if they stop watching, something even worse will happen and the least they could do is stop the world from being destroyed even worse. After all, they guess, it’s kind of their planet now, being that they’re the only ones who are there to witness its slow decay. Sudden responsibility and ownership of an entire planet is something so inconceivable that all they do is watch it carefully. It reminds Sam of kindergarten and waiting for an egg to hatch in the nest she made.
Her mom was too nice to tell her that it was an egg from the fridge and there was no way.
Jack looks like he wants to make a joke, sometimes, to ease the tautness in her face, but knows he can’t. He doesn’t ever smile, and neither does she, in case it’s disrespectful. There is one time when she asks Thor if he has any jello – the blue kind – and his mouth quirks up, and she sees it, but then he hides it away, and she’s pretty sure his heart wrenches the same as hers as he looks at his plate and the knuckles around his fork slowly turn white.
She stalks the ship mercilessly, and he doesn’t think she sleeps.
She finds him in a corner one night as she walks, his whole body shaking as he cries shamelessly for Sara and his dad. She wants to comfort him but she doesn’t know how. She can’t bring herself to cry for Pete, yet, and she still has her dad. So she sits down, and lets him cry himself dry, and then tells him she misses her Sting albums. Jack looks at her for a moment before saying he liked him better in The Police.
Sam comes up with a thousand theories as to how she could have saved Earth, and he tells her not to worry, not to think about it, but he feels a twinge when she comes up with a plausible scenario and tries not to hate her, and himself, for not figuring it out earlier. He tells her she’s only human, and there’s no way she could have figured all this out in the three days they had. He carefully hides away the part of him that expected her to, and refuses to cast her in bitter disappointment, though he thinks that would makes her feel better.
Sometimes, he wants her to hate him too.
She figures out how long it will take everyone down there to die but she doesn’t tell him, and he gets confused when one day she locks herself in her room and won’t come out. He sits outside her door, then goes to the observation room to look for a hint of green or brown on the surface and can’t find any and figures it out.
He goes back to her door and sits down again and waits for her. When she comes out she’s finally crying and he wants to hug her, but he knows if he does, when they’ve both just lost everything and there’s no rules anymore, hugging will lead to hugging for too long and that will lead to his tongue in her mouth and her hands pulling his hips against hers and his weight pushing her down and them both slurring their words together to say hardermorepleaseughyestherepleasedon’tst
And one day, Sam announces that the temperature has settled, and Jack says that there must be plenty of canned food, and the cycle of season must start up again soon, right? And Sam nods, and thinks maybe even some people could have survived.
And they find warm clothes and go home.