3 stories; Stargate SG1; PG13
May. 17th, 2009 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriPrompt: Nightmare (#389/657)
Title: Clarity
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Sam Carter (canon), Sam Carter/Jolinar (NM), Paul Davis (NM), Martouf/Lantsh (NM), Baal (NM)
Word Count: 702
She knew with terrifying clarity that this was real. The rich tapestries over concrete walls, the deferential nods of men and women in drab uniforms that were somewhere between Tok'ra and US military. Martouf - she knew he was called Lantash here, more often - and Paul Davis walking on either side of her and the whisper of Jolinar in the back of her mind, all subtly wrong in more than simply those who were dead were not.
The knowledge came unbidden that she was the leader of more than the SGC, and these two the most important men in the new regime that had carefully suborned world governments and militaries until she had enough of a power base to bring the rest of the world under her thumb. Made the Earth into a power that had brought the goa'uld to their knees with careful alliances and ruthless efficiency that had no regard for collatoral damage.
It was the sort of victory that made her ill to think of supporting, much less organizing, and yet there was the sense that her doppleganger was satisfied with it - even proud of it - curling at the back of her mind. Even Jack and Daniel had supported her in it, in this twisted reality, so unlike the one she called her own. A cold knowledge that made her shiver in the corner of her mind that was her own for a moment.
When they stepped into what should have been the briefing room, she would have blinked if she could. It wasn't the lack of familiar furnishings - only a broad desk with a comfortable chair that her doppleganger called her own - or even the guards that stood at the top of the staircase leading into the control room. Not that, but the man standing at the observation window overlooking the embarkation room, his hands clasped behind his back, without even the j'affa guards she'd expect him to have.
"Baal." The voice that came from her mouth didn't have the distortion of the symbiote, nor did she hear Jolinar whispering the words in tandem, which made her all the more disturbed by the familiarity in the single word. "Trouble keeping your end of things up?"
There was silence for a long moment, Baal continuing to watch the gate without moving. "Nothing in our agreement denies me the privilage of visiting Earth, Colonel Carter." His voice, at least, had the reverberation of the symbiote overlying the host's rich natural cadence. "I took the opportunity to do so."
"Nothing in it allows your visit, either."
Baal tilted his head in acknowledgement of that before turning from the window to face her. "Indeed."
"Why are you here, Baal?" Arms crossed, her doppleganger gave Baal a brief smile that felt foreign to this face. "You didn't come just to prove you could, I'm sure."
"No." Baal paused, a small, smug smile on his face as he watched her - studying her, she thought. "I would like the opportunity to renegotiate our temporary alliance, Colonel Carter. Informally," he added, his gaze flicking to the men flanking her. "Over dinner, perhaps?"
~ ~~ ~
Sam woke with a start, pushing herself halfway to sitting as she stared blindly at the bare concrete walls of the small room in the SGC she was sleeping in, the after-images of her dream fading slowly. They were still burned into her mind's eye, vivid memories of the nightmarish mockery of her own life.
"It's just a dream," she muttered to herself, pushing aside the blankets as she sat on the edge of the bed. Probing at the empty space at the back of her mind that had once been Jolinar, dredging up the memories of holding Martouf in her arms as he died, she used the dull ache to reinforce her words. Warding herself against that nagging sense that it had been more than a dream.
Taking a deep breath, Sam pushed off the bed, padding toward the bathroom. She wouldn't be able to sleep more tonight, and she did have that project waiting in her lab, the reason she hadn't actually gone home that night. The work, she hoped, would let her shove the dregs of the nightmare out of her mind.
Prompt: Life (#328/657)
Title: Satisfaction
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Sam Carter (canon), Sam Carter/Jolinar (NM), Martouf/Lantash (NM), Janet Fraiser (NM)
Word Count: 594
She was watching an isolation room this time, her doppleganger and Lantash alone on the observation deck. Watching a scene she'd orchestrated, even if this wasn't where a tok'ra blending should take place. Nor was the bitter satisfaction she could feel from her doppleganger, that Jacob wouldn't be allowed to die so easily. No affection, and no regret for the estrangement that still kept them apart.
Nor was there encouragement from Jolinar to repair the rift, like Selmak's influence had encouraged Jacob to repair the damage done to his relationships with his children. Only quiet concern for the depth of her doppleganger's emotions concerning Jacob's behavior and inability to express his affection. An affection that this stranger wearing her face doubted even existed.
The sound of a door opening caught her attention, and the faint shadow she could catch out of the corner of her eye made her wish she had some small measure of control over this dream.
"He'll survive the blending, Colonel, but I don't know how well he'll adjust to being part of the symbiotic relationship."
The voice confirmed the familiar shadow was Janet - not a surprise, with the others who should have been dead, but still disconcerting. Painful, almost, reminding her of everything she'd lost over the years she'd worked with the SGC.
"I don't need to know how well he'll adjust, just that he'll survive. Selmak will do the rest." Her doppleganger's voice was almost icy, echoing the emotions she could feel as well as she could her own.
Lantash rested his hand on her back, supportive even as he kept a respectful distance from her. He wouldn't allow himself to demonstrate his affection for her - or rather, for Jolinar, and Martouf's for her - where those who were their subordinates could see. Even if they were already aware of that affection.
There was an almost inaudible sigh from Janet before she replied, her tone a bit warier than before. "I'll stay and moniter him, Colonel. I'll let you know the moment he wakes up, if you want to return to your own rooms and rest."
"Good." The annoyance from her doppleganger made her wince, and wonder what had gone wrong between her and this Janet that she found the doctor so irritating. What made her level a vicious glare at Janet before beckoning Lantash to follow her as she stalked through the corridors to a richly decorated suite she called home. That they - three of them - called home.
~ ~~ ~
It wasn't as abrupt a waking from the dream this time, a lingering sense of two pairs of warm arms leaving Sam's empty bed feeling that much colder. The image of her father in an isolation room, and the bitterness of the dream made her wrap her arms around herself, trying to recapture those last, more pleasant moments.
"Just a dream," she insisted to herself, her voice lacking the conviction she wished she could inject into it. One more dream she wouldn't be able to forget, twisted memories lingering at the back of her mind for an indefinite length of time.
Running a hand through her hair, Sam closed her eyes to try to go back to sleep. Real sleep, without the dreams of a stranger wearing her face that left her more tired than when she fell asleep. They had a mission in the morning, and she couldn't afford to be tired then.
Prompt: Optimistic (#403/657)
Title: What Is Lost
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Jack O'Neill (canon), Jack O'Neill (NM), Charlie O'Neill (NM)
Word Count: 682
He was fishing, at his cabin in Minnesota. In a pond without fish, with a cooler beside him with lunch. The occupant of the chair on the far side of the cooler had to be a ghost, or a hallucination. Or this was a very cruel dream, even though he didn't think he actually dreamed. Not like this, anyway.
"Do you have to go, dad?" Charlie was slouched slightly, his shoulders hunched forward as he watched his pole instead of Jack. He had to be at least twelve - was twelve, he remembered. Except that it wasn't his memory, and this wasn't real, couldn't be real, not those memories that filled those years since his son had died.
"I'm looking for a house, so you and your mom can join me in Washington." While he played the nice with the other political appointees, and smirked inwardly at their mad scramble to ingratiate themselves with him, hoping for more security in their positions. A brigadier general appointed by the Lady herself to the Pentagon, except the promotion was too soon, and he didn't want to believe what the memories not his were providing to go with the appellation of 'the Lady'.
"But mom doesn't want to leave the Springs. Neither do I; all my friends are there." Charlie had a scowl on his face, though he still didn't look up from his pole. Angry, maybe, or afraid.
"You can come up for the summer. Make some new friends before school starts." He was grasping at straws, trying to find something that would get Charlie to agree with him, to want to come to DC with him, instead of staying in Colorado Springs with his mother.
"Maybe." Charlie wrinkled his nose, sounding and looking dubious. "It wouldn't be the same though."
There was silence again, stretching out uncomfortably between them as they both focused on poles that wouldn't bend toward the water with a bite. Pretending to fish so they didn't have to talk. Jack almost wanted to open his mouth and declare this all a dream, if he could have figured out how to do so.
"No one's going to have a problem with your chair." That finally broke the silence, coming from him. He wouldn't let anyone have a problem with Charlie's wheelchair. Not even himself, not where Charlie could see or hear about it. He didn't need the kid feeling guilty about his guilt in not protecting him better.
"It's not the chair, dad." Charlie sighed, reeling in his empty hook, his expression set mutinously. "I just don't want to move and have to make new friends. I like the ones I have, and I like the school in the Springs, and I'm not going to shuttle back and forth between you and mom, either. I'm staying there."
He carefully packed the pole away, even though Jack doubted he really cared if he did or not, and backed the chair off the pier before spinning it around to go back to the cabin as quickly as he could push himself to go.
~ ~~ ~
Jack woke up with his eyes stinging and a dull ache that he told himself wasn't grief, that the tears were just because his eyes were dry or something had gotten into them. The dream had to be nothing more than an overactive imagination fueled by listening to Sam lecturing on parallel universes and some bad carryout. Something that would fade by the time they went on their next mission.
He sat up at the edge of the bed, shaking his head to try dislodging the image of an older Charlie in a wheelchair. Alive and safe, even if he was losing him a little bit at a time. Something he might wish for a moment was real, but knew couldn't be anything more than a dream to him, no matter how vivid a dream it had been.
The alarm went off, and he reached out to turn it off automatically before he headed for his bathroom. No time for lingering dreams, he had a battle to wage with paperwork.
Title: Clarity
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Sam Carter (canon), Sam Carter/Jolinar (NM), Paul Davis (NM), Martouf/Lantsh (NM), Baal (NM)
Word Count: 702
She knew with terrifying clarity that this was real. The rich tapestries over concrete walls, the deferential nods of men and women in drab uniforms that were somewhere between Tok'ra and US military. Martouf - she knew he was called Lantash here, more often - and Paul Davis walking on either side of her and the whisper of Jolinar in the back of her mind, all subtly wrong in more than simply those who were dead were not.
The knowledge came unbidden that she was the leader of more than the SGC, and these two the most important men in the new regime that had carefully suborned world governments and militaries until she had enough of a power base to bring the rest of the world under her thumb. Made the Earth into a power that had brought the goa'uld to their knees with careful alliances and ruthless efficiency that had no regard for collatoral damage.
It was the sort of victory that made her ill to think of supporting, much less organizing, and yet there was the sense that her doppleganger was satisfied with it - even proud of it - curling at the back of her mind. Even Jack and Daniel had supported her in it, in this twisted reality, so unlike the one she called her own. A cold knowledge that made her shiver in the corner of her mind that was her own for a moment.
When they stepped into what should have been the briefing room, she would have blinked if she could. It wasn't the lack of familiar furnishings - only a broad desk with a comfortable chair that her doppleganger called her own - or even the guards that stood at the top of the staircase leading into the control room. Not that, but the man standing at the observation window overlooking the embarkation room, his hands clasped behind his back, without even the j'affa guards she'd expect him to have.
"Baal." The voice that came from her mouth didn't have the distortion of the symbiote, nor did she hear Jolinar whispering the words in tandem, which made her all the more disturbed by the familiarity in the single word. "Trouble keeping your end of things up?"
There was silence for a long moment, Baal continuing to watch the gate without moving. "Nothing in our agreement denies me the privilage of visiting Earth, Colonel Carter." His voice, at least, had the reverberation of the symbiote overlying the host's rich natural cadence. "I took the opportunity to do so."
"Nothing in it allows your visit, either."
Baal tilted his head in acknowledgement of that before turning from the window to face her. "Indeed."
"Why are you here, Baal?" Arms crossed, her doppleganger gave Baal a brief smile that felt foreign to this face. "You didn't come just to prove you could, I'm sure."
"No." Baal paused, a small, smug smile on his face as he watched her - studying her, she thought. "I would like the opportunity to renegotiate our temporary alliance, Colonel Carter. Informally," he added, his gaze flicking to the men flanking her. "Over dinner, perhaps?"
Sam woke with a start, pushing herself halfway to sitting as she stared blindly at the bare concrete walls of the small room in the SGC she was sleeping in, the after-images of her dream fading slowly. They were still burned into her mind's eye, vivid memories of the nightmarish mockery of her own life.
"It's just a dream," she muttered to herself, pushing aside the blankets as she sat on the edge of the bed. Probing at the empty space at the back of her mind that had once been Jolinar, dredging up the memories of holding Martouf in her arms as he died, she used the dull ache to reinforce her words. Warding herself against that nagging sense that it had been more than a dream.
Taking a deep breath, Sam pushed off the bed, padding toward the bathroom. She wouldn't be able to sleep more tonight, and she did have that project waiting in her lab, the reason she hadn't actually gone home that night. The work, she hoped, would let her shove the dregs of the nightmare out of her mind.
Prompt: Life (#328/657)
Title: Satisfaction
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Sam Carter (canon), Sam Carter/Jolinar (NM), Martouf/Lantash (NM), Janet Fraiser (NM)
Word Count: 594
She was watching an isolation room this time, her doppleganger and Lantash alone on the observation deck. Watching a scene she'd orchestrated, even if this wasn't where a tok'ra blending should take place. Nor was the bitter satisfaction she could feel from her doppleganger, that Jacob wouldn't be allowed to die so easily. No affection, and no regret for the estrangement that still kept them apart.
Nor was there encouragement from Jolinar to repair the rift, like Selmak's influence had encouraged Jacob to repair the damage done to his relationships with his children. Only quiet concern for the depth of her doppleganger's emotions concerning Jacob's behavior and inability to express his affection. An affection that this stranger wearing her face doubted even existed.
The sound of a door opening caught her attention, and the faint shadow she could catch out of the corner of her eye made her wish she had some small measure of control over this dream.
"He'll survive the blending, Colonel, but I don't know how well he'll adjust to being part of the symbiotic relationship."
The voice confirmed the familiar shadow was Janet - not a surprise, with the others who should have been dead, but still disconcerting. Painful, almost, reminding her of everything she'd lost over the years she'd worked with the SGC.
"I don't need to know how well he'll adjust, just that he'll survive. Selmak will do the rest." Her doppleganger's voice was almost icy, echoing the emotions she could feel as well as she could her own.
Lantash rested his hand on her back, supportive even as he kept a respectful distance from her. He wouldn't allow himself to demonstrate his affection for her - or rather, for Jolinar, and Martouf's for her - where those who were their subordinates could see. Even if they were already aware of that affection.
There was an almost inaudible sigh from Janet before she replied, her tone a bit warier than before. "I'll stay and moniter him, Colonel. I'll let you know the moment he wakes up, if you want to return to your own rooms and rest."
"Good." The annoyance from her doppleganger made her wince, and wonder what had gone wrong between her and this Janet that she found the doctor so irritating. What made her level a vicious glare at Janet before beckoning Lantash to follow her as she stalked through the corridors to a richly decorated suite she called home. That they - three of them - called home.
It wasn't as abrupt a waking from the dream this time, a lingering sense of two pairs of warm arms leaving Sam's empty bed feeling that much colder. The image of her father in an isolation room, and the bitterness of the dream made her wrap her arms around herself, trying to recapture those last, more pleasant moments.
"Just a dream," she insisted to herself, her voice lacking the conviction she wished she could inject into it. One more dream she wouldn't be able to forget, twisted memories lingering at the back of her mind for an indefinite length of time.
Running a hand through her hair, Sam closed her eyes to try to go back to sleep. Real sleep, without the dreams of a stranger wearing her face that left her more tired than when she fell asleep. They had a mission in the morning, and she couldn't afford to be tired then.
Prompt: Optimistic (#403/657)
Title: What Is Lost
Fandom: Stargate SG1
AU: Night Mirror
Rating: PG13
Characters: Jack O'Neill (canon), Jack O'Neill (NM), Charlie O'Neill (NM)
Word Count: 682
He was fishing, at his cabin in Minnesota. In a pond without fish, with a cooler beside him with lunch. The occupant of the chair on the far side of the cooler had to be a ghost, or a hallucination. Or this was a very cruel dream, even though he didn't think he actually dreamed. Not like this, anyway.
"Do you have to go, dad?" Charlie was slouched slightly, his shoulders hunched forward as he watched his pole instead of Jack. He had to be at least twelve - was twelve, he remembered. Except that it wasn't his memory, and this wasn't real, couldn't be real, not those memories that filled those years since his son had died.
"I'm looking for a house, so you and your mom can join me in Washington." While he played the nice with the other political appointees, and smirked inwardly at their mad scramble to ingratiate themselves with him, hoping for more security in their positions. A brigadier general appointed by the Lady herself to the Pentagon, except the promotion was too soon, and he didn't want to believe what the memories not his were providing to go with the appellation of 'the Lady'.
"But mom doesn't want to leave the Springs. Neither do I; all my friends are there." Charlie had a scowl on his face, though he still didn't look up from his pole. Angry, maybe, or afraid.
"You can come up for the summer. Make some new friends before school starts." He was grasping at straws, trying to find something that would get Charlie to agree with him, to want to come to DC with him, instead of staying in Colorado Springs with his mother.
"Maybe." Charlie wrinkled his nose, sounding and looking dubious. "It wouldn't be the same though."
There was silence again, stretching out uncomfortably between them as they both focused on poles that wouldn't bend toward the water with a bite. Pretending to fish so they didn't have to talk. Jack almost wanted to open his mouth and declare this all a dream, if he could have figured out how to do so.
"No one's going to have a problem with your chair." That finally broke the silence, coming from him. He wouldn't let anyone have a problem with Charlie's wheelchair. Not even himself, not where Charlie could see or hear about it. He didn't need the kid feeling guilty about his guilt in not protecting him better.
"It's not the chair, dad." Charlie sighed, reeling in his empty hook, his expression set mutinously. "I just don't want to move and have to make new friends. I like the ones I have, and I like the school in the Springs, and I'm not going to shuttle back and forth between you and mom, either. I'm staying there."
He carefully packed the pole away, even though Jack doubted he really cared if he did or not, and backed the chair off the pier before spinning it around to go back to the cabin as quickly as he could push himself to go.
Jack woke up with his eyes stinging and a dull ache that he told himself wasn't grief, that the tears were just because his eyes were dry or something had gotten into them. The dream had to be nothing more than an overactive imagination fueled by listening to Sam lecturing on parallel universes and some bad carryout. Something that would fade by the time they went on their next mission.
He sat up at the edge of the bed, shaking his head to try dislodging the image of an older Charlie in a wheelchair. Alive and safe, even if he was losing him a little bit at a time. Something he might wish for a moment was real, but knew couldn't be anything more than a dream to him, no matter how vivid a dream it had been.
The alarm went off, and he reached out to turn it off automatically before he headed for his bathroom. No time for lingering dreams, he had a battle to wage with paperwork.