Category: Sam/Teal'c
Rating: PG
Email: jeanine@iol.ie
Archive: My own, The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net)
Feedback: Always welcome.
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Frozen, Revelations Into the Fire are the major ones; smaller for a whole host of other eps
Summary: Teal'c thinks of promises he's made and promises he's kept.
Author’s Notes: So, I haven't been writing much SG fic, when a friend asks me to write a Jack/Janet as her Christmas present. I tried. This is what I wrote instead. Where the confusion arose, I don't know, but there you have it!

I have made many promises over the course of my life, both spoken and unspoken. In death, I promised Drey'auc that I would take care of our son, and seeing the man that he has become, I believe that I have done this. I promised myself that I would avenge my father's death, and that of Shan'auc, and this I have also done. I pledged my life to the people of the Tau'ri, promised to stand shoulder to shoulder with them in the fight against the Goa'uld.

These are all promises that have meant a great deal to me.

However, they pale into comparison to the one that I made many years ago, one made sitting on the top of Cheyenne Mountain, at a time when it seemed like everything we knew was being stripped away from us.

I had gone to find her, knowing instinctively where she would be. I had heard both General Hammond and Doctor Fraiser express concern as to her whereabouts, knowing that she had not left the base for the night, but that she was not in her office, nor in the lab, nor any other venue where one might reasonably be expected to find her. No-one, they said, had seen her since O'Neill was taken by the Tok'ra, and they were worried about her, about how she would react. Doctor Fraiser was considering inviting her to dinner with her and Cassandra that night, not wanting to leave her alone, but being unable to find her was a detriment to her plans.

I did not suffer from that problem.

The place I went to was the same place that I stand now; the first that O'Neill showed me when I first came to this planet. It was a logical choice for him to show me, I later learned; a wilderness unspoiled by progress, full of the bounty of nature, yet still on the grounds of Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base, and thus safe from prying eyes. The bluff afforded a clear panorama of green grass below, while above, the sky was blue, with dots of white cloud floating by. Every now and again a bird flew past, and each time, it recalled to me my first sight of such a creature, the awe, the wonder that it produced in me, to say nothing of the humorous response it drew from O'Neill. After all, such a sight to him was commonplace.

After my initial introduction, I continued to come to this place, soon grew to cherish it; the peace and solitude a welcome relief from the daily travails of fighting the Goa'uld. Added to that was the fact that it was reminiscent of a place from my youth, a place where my father and I spent many long hours as he taught me the rudiments of combat.

It had only been a year previous, not even that, that I realised that MajorCarter also cherished this place, that she came there when she needed to think, or to be alone. The first time I saw her here was after the destruction of Tollana. We had received the transmission from Narim, detailing the attack, ending abruptly, and on the orders of General Hammond, a probe was prepared. However, upon trying to dial the address for Tollana, the seventh chevron failed to lock, leaving us looking at one another in silence, fearful of the possibilities, knowing them all too well.

I did not notice MajorCarter leaving the Gate Room, nor did I notice her absence throughout that day. Only when I heard DanielJackson and O'Neill discussing her did I realise that I had not seen her all day either, but I simply presumed that she was working on something in her lab, or that she had perhaps returned home for the day. I do not know still what brought me to that place that day. Perhaps it was seeing Tanith again, memories of Shan'auc overwhelming me. Perhaps it was some deep-held knowledge that that was where she would be, some clue left behind with the protein marker in her blood and the symbiote that I carried within me.

Perhaps it was merely coincidence.

Either way, she jumped when she heard me approaching, turned her head hastily towards me, then away again. She was not quick enough though; I could clearly see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, the redness of her eyes. The thought came to me that I should turn around and leave her to herself; however, something prevented me from doing this. Instead, I walked closer to her, sitting down beside her, not saying anything, waiting for her to speak.

Eventually, she did. "Are they going to try sending a probe through?"

I heard the strain in her voice, and hated having to give her the bad news. "No. We believe that the Stargate may have been buried, or destroyed."

She closed her eyes, and I could see her swallow hard. "The Tok'ra…"

"Have been contacted." Anticipating her words, I spared her the pain of voicing them. "However, they do not have a ship in the vicinity, and the journey there will take several weeks."

She nodded slowly. "So," she pronounced finally. "We wait."

I said nothing, merely inclined my head in acknowledgement of her words. It was far from an unreasonable assumption that MajorCarter would be taking this news badly; after all, she and Narim became close upon their first meeting, and had remained so in the aftermath. On Tollana during that mission, I had observed that Narim had feelings of a close personal nature for MajorCarter, and while it was clear to me that MajorCarter's feelings may not have been as strong as his were, I believe that they were there.

Narim's apparent death put paid to any notions she may have had regarding such a relationship, and I thought that perhaps she would be angry, as I was angry after Shan'auc died, reaching out for someone to blame.

I had not expected this silence, this stillness.

"When Shan'auc died," I found myself saying, my words breaking the silence, surprising us both. "I vowed that I would have vengeance on the one responsible for her death. I have not forgotten that vow MajorCarter, and I renew it today." Her head turned to me then, tears in her eyes, her jaw set. "Tanith will be brought to account for his crimes. And on that day, both Shan'auc and Narim shall be avenged."

She took a deep breath, managing a smile, and nodded once, before her gaze turned back to the sky. I considered moving, but something held me in place, stopping me, and I do not recall how long we were sitting there. I only know that minutes after I affirmed my vow to her, she leaned in towards me, her head resting on my shoulder, and we sat there like that for the rest of the time, without a word being exchanged.

I remembered that incident months later when I encountered her leaving DanielJackson's bedside, when we knew that he was dying and that we could do nothing for him. I wished to speak to him, to tell him of my feelings of deep friendship for him, to tell him that I believed that with his death, we would lose one of our greatest allies in the fight against the Goa'uld. I did not expect to meet her on my way, with tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, her pain written all over her face for everyone to see. I stopped upon seeing her, as much in surprise at this rather un-MajorCarter like behaviour as to issue salutation. I waited for her to speak first, but she did not. Nor did she stop walking until she was right in front of me. Then she looked up into my face and shook her head once, closing her eyes and leaning forward slightly, so that her forehead rested on the middle of my chest. I did not know what to do at this display, but my hands reached up of their own accord, resting on her back lightly, and it seemed to be what she needed, for she straightened up then, bestowed upon me a quick, shaky smile, before going on her way.

I expected that reaction from her, given my previous encounter with her. Hence, her behaviour following DanielJackson's ascension perplexed me. While previously, her emotions were kept firmly concealed from those around her, she made no effort to do so in the immediate aftermath of his leaving, wondering why there was no memorial service held for him, why O'Neill preferred to go on working rather than taking time off. Moreover, she showed no sign of her usual warmth, instead appearing surly and combative, most unusual behaviour for MajorCarter. Thus, when we were alone on our way to our next mission, I seized the opportunity to talk to her, to attempt to ascertain how her state of mind would affect our mission.

At least, that is the reason I gave myself at the time.

"You continue to mourn the loss of DanielJackson," I told her.

"Yeah I do." The tone of her voice surprised me, anger simmering barely controlled under the surface. "Tell me I'm not the only one."

We had lost people at the SGC prior to that. Never had all activity ceased while we came to terms with it. I saw no reason why it should this time, and told her so. "I will perform the proper rituals when the opportunity presents itself. Until that time this mission must take priority." No matter the pain that we ourselves were experiencing, our true fight, our only objective, was victory against the Goa'uld. That was an objective that I believed we should never let out of our sight.

I would have expected MajorCarter to agree with me. However, my words were met with more ire. "Please Teal'c, don't give me that way of the warrior crap. I get enough of that from Colonel O'Neill." I was suddenly glad that O'Neill was not here for this conversation; at the time, he had not spoken of DanielJackson since his ascension.

Perhaps, I realised, it was to be expected that the humans would react so to this turn of events. To them, death is natural, even when it is unexpected. Ascension however is unheard of, almost science fiction, something not to be dreamed of. Thus, I attempted to provide MajorCarter with some context. "DanielJackson has ascended to a higher plane of existence. Many Jaffa have dedicated their lives to achieving such a goal."

Context, I soon learned, which was lost on her. "So I'm supposed to celebrate?"

Once more, her tone was angry, almost bitter, and there was something in it, something in her eyes perhaps, that cut me to the core of my being. For I knew that I should be happy for DanielJackson. That I should have been rejoicing in his accomplishment. I knew that I was telling MajorCarter that she should do the same, but in my heart, I did not believe it. In my heart, I was feeling the same emotions that she was. Which may be why it took me a long time to respond, and when I did, my words, "It is a great accomplishment," rang distinctly hollow.

In my years in the service of the Tau'ri, never had I known MajorCarter to keep back her feelings, and once she had started on this topic, they could no more be turned back than the incoming tide. "We were a team Teal'c," she told me. "No-one can even begin to understand what we went through together, what we mean to each other."

I had to admit that she had a point, remembering the many times that either she or DanielJackson or Colonel O'Neill had aided me. Remembering all the times we faced death side by side. Remembering how he aided me to bring Ry'ac back to himself, how he spoke up for me on Chartago, told the Council of Ancients that while I may have condemned his wife to a living death, that I was now his friend, that he had forgiven me. I remembered his face when Sha're returned with Apophis through the gate after giving birth to the Harsesis Child, remembered his face again when I was forced to fire upon Sha're, ending her life.

Remembered that DanielJackson was a good man. And my friend.

She had continued to speak, heedless of the effect her words were having on me. "So maybe Daniel has achieved something of great cosmic significance, I don't know, and to be honest with you, right now, I don't really care."

The feelings she spoke of had been buried deep within me, locked away, and her words, the conviction burning in them, brought my buried emotions to the fore, and with them, tears that stood in my eyes.

"I'd rather have him back," she concluded, and there were tears in her eyes too.

With a deep breath, I made my confession. "As would I."

It was then that the mission began to interfere with our talk, yet strangely, while we never spoke further on the subject, I felt that what was said was cathartic for both of us. It seemed that afterwards, we were able to go on with our lives, the task made easier by the knowledge of our common, yet unspoken pain.

These instances weighed on my mind that day when O'Neill left with the Tok'ra. The day I heard Doctor Fraiser and General Hammond talking about Major Carter, and I did not have to think before realising where she would be. Hence I found myself here, and that time I approached her without hesitation, sitting down beside her, once more waiting for her to speak first. I noticed that there were no tears on her face, though her expression could only be described as melancholy. However, there was none of the hostility that marked her bearing in the aftermath of DanielJackson's loss. At the time, I was unsure of whether this was a good or bad thing.

"I knew you'd come here," she said, a hint of a bitter smile hovering around her lips, regarding me from the corner of her eye.

I tilted my head to one side, lifting an eyebrow. "I fail to see how that could be MajorCarter," I observed. "Since I did not myself know that I would come here."

There was a moment's pause from her, then a full smile crossed her face, and she shook her head, the slightest of chuckles escaping her. I took this as a good sign. "Don't pretend you don't understand me," she said, and received another quirk of my brow in response.

"I would never presume to insult your intelligence in that manner," I told her, and she shook her head some more, in a display of mock exasperation that I was most familiar with from her, though usually it was directed at Colonel O'Neill.

"Don't try to make me laugh," she ordered, but despite the apparent harshness of her words, there was still the tiniest of smiles on her face.

I nodded my head, acceding to her wishes, an easy task having ascertained her state of mind. Upset she may have been, but angry she was not; in fact, considering my worst fears, her ability to laugh came as something of a welcome surprise. "Very well."

Silence ensued, until she made an observation of her own. "We're the only two left now." My confusion must have been obvious, because she continued, "Of the great SG-1." That phrase bought a smile to her face that was one part amused, two parts bitter, and it was then that I understood.

"O'Neill will return MajorCarter, once the Tok'ra have cured him."

"But we don't know how long that's going to be Teal'c," she reminded me. "We're not even sure if it's going to work."

"Is not a slim chance better than the alternative?" I asked, but she did not respond to that.

"I just…" Her voice trailed off, laced with frustration. "I hate this Teal'c. I mean, we lost Daniel." Her voice broke on the name and she looked away for a long moment. When she spoke again, I could hear both the tears in her throat and the effort it was costing her to keep them back. "And I really miss him." That admission out of the way, her words came in a rush. "And I'm still getting used to looking around for him and him not being there, and now, I have to do the same thing for the Colonel, and I just…" She ran out of breath then, and shook her head. "I really, really hate this."

I did not look at her. Instead, I looked straight ahead, my word an echo of those spoken scant months previous. "As do I."

I also missed DanielJackson greatly, and the memory of the recent death of Drey'auc made its presence known, heavy like a rock in my heart.

I heard a deep sigh from beside me, and her voice was so quiet that I could barely hear her. "Everyone leaves Teal'c," she told me. "My dad… Martouf…Narim…Orlin… Daniel, the Colonel…"

It fell to me to point out the obvious omission. "I have not left."

I looked at her when I made the observation, and she turned to me, a bright smile coming to her face, staying there, transforming her countenance. She had, I suddenly realised for the first time, the loveliest smile I had ever seen. "No," she agreed. "You haven't."

I inclined my head once again, a smile hovering around the corners of my own lips, and it was then that I made her the promise.

"You are not alone," I told her. "Nor, as long as I am here, will you be, Samantha."

That was the first time that I had ever used her given name, rather than her rank and surname, and her eyes widened in surprise as she realised that, a suspicious sheen taking hold. She did not speak, just nodded again, and leaned towards me. I shifted slightly, my arm going around her shoulders, so that she rested in my arms, and we sat there together, her head resting on my shoulder, the passing clouds a witness to the promise I had made and her acceptance of it.

That scene played out many years ago, and the mountainside on which I stand today is almost unrecognisable as the one on which I sat with her so long ago. Hardly am I recognisable as the man who made that promise, the promise I kept, the promise from which she released me only days ago. With heavy heart, I now take my leave of this place, this world, returning to live the remainder of my days on a free Chulak, a world once a pipedream, a world made possible by my involvement with the people of the Tau'ri.

I shall miss these people.

I shall miss her.

I cast a final glance at the panorama before me, then one more at the small pile of disturbed earth at my feet, still able to feel the cool ceramic of the urn against my flesh. Behind me, Ry'ac takes careful note of its position, mindful of the instructions with which he has been issued.

"Rest peaceful Samantha," I tell her, sure that wherever she is, she can hear me, hear my final promise to be kept. "Until I join you here again."