Soldiering On
by jackwabbit

Jack

“I’m afraid not.”

They’re just three little words.  They shouldn’t mean much.

But they do.

All too much.

They crash into me like a wave, and their meaning slices my soul like a bullet.

I somehow feel it first in my shoulder, and it sags under the pressure.  Then my gut betrays me and I have to fight the taste of bile in my throat.

I want to cry.  My chest aches with an indescribable pain.

But my pain won’t help you.  My actions might.

Come on, O’Neill.  Don’t give up.

Soldier on.

There’s still a job to do here.

Daniel

His face is almost hidden by his hat.

Almost, but not quite.

He tries to hide his reaction, but a snippet of it slips out from under the brim, and my heart breaks to see it.

I love Jack O’Neill like a brother, and while his feelings now are anything but surprising, I feel the intensity of his pain like a physical blow.

Jack’s weakness only lasts a second, though, and before I can think he’s back on his feet.

Soldiering on.

I look at his back as he retreats and I wonder.

When will he be allowed to feel?

Teal’c

O’Neill kneels in the dirt as the message comes through.

Twelve survivors.

That is indeed good news.

O’Neill hesitates and I know what is coming before the words leave his mouth

His voice does not betray him as he questions Colonel Reynolds, but his reaction to the answer does.

It is subtle, but obvious.

I sympathize, but this is not the time for personal feelings.

Later, perhaps, we may grieve or rejoice, but now is a time for action.

When O’Neill stands after only a second, I am relieved.

Though it is difficult, he soldiers on.

As do we all.

The End