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tampered2006-12-20 08:47 pm
thorsbuddy.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-12-20 08:47 pm
Log; Complete
When; December 3rd [backdate like whoa]
Rating; PG
Characters; Jack O'Neill [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thorsbuddy] and Vala Mal Doran riteofmaldoran
Summary; Vala's locked herself in her room, Jack is worried.
Log;
Jack sat on the floor leaning back against the door jam. He sighed softly. Vala had been in her room for that last three days and it was starting to piss him off. He lifted an arm and knocked on the door. He turned his head, "Vala? You gotta come out sometime." He was worried about her, after what she had gone through in the past few days. Jack didn't know what it was like to be a host to a goa'uld, since he was only ever a host to a Tok'ra, and he could never imagine what it was like to have it happen twice. "That's it." He muttered under his breath and stood up. He knew the door was locked, but then he had been in Black Ops. He braced himself and grasped the doorknob. He smashed his shoulder into the hard wood and felt the door give way beneath the force. He smiled triumphantly as he stepped over the threshold, though the feeling faded when he took in the form laying on the bed. "Vala?"
Her bed was in the centre of the room, large enough to fit two people, and while that wasn't ridiculously large, the figure curled in its centre looked too small to belong there. Knees tucked up, she rested on top of the comforter thrown across the bed. One hand was curled under her chin, the other in a loose fist against the pillow in front of her mouth. The doorway was at the foot of the bed, though, and with black hair strewn across pillow and shoulders alike, chin tucked, it was impossible to tell if she was awake. She was so still it hardly looked as though she were breathing, and even though Jack had-- for all intents and purposes-- just smashed her door in, she appeared completely unaware.
Jack paused for a moment just inside the room, taking in the picture Vala made. His mind flashbacked for a moment, to a time when Sara would lay on their bed in the same position, mourning. He shook his head to rid himself of the image and stepping further into the room, to be in Vala's line of sight should she open her eyes. He moved closer to the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge of the matress. He hated seeing her like this, seeing anyone like this, really. So frail when he knew she was anything but. He reached out a hand and brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His movements were careful, not wanting to wake her up if she was sleeping, even though he needed her to talk.
Even when he dusted hair from her face she didn't stir, though when it was moved, it became clear that she wasn't actually sleeping. Instead, her eyes were down-cast, half-lidded, staring blankly into a portion of space only she could see. She looked unfocused (or too focused?), out of touch with what was going on around her. In her state, had he come in raging and screaming, it was unlikely she would have even lifted her head to acknowledge him. As his fingers brushed passed her ear, though, her eyes closed.
He smiled sadly down at her, "Vala? I know you're awake." He wished the situation was different, and that he wasn't in here trying to get her to talk about something he knew she didn't want to talk about. However, there was nothing he could do to change the situation. "C'mon, you gotta talk sometime." He moved his hand over her should and down her arm, before he rested it on her side. "Please." His voice softened to a whisper, though it still seemed loud in the quiet room.
She stayed quiet, remained that way for so long that had it been anyone else, they might have given up and left her to her own devices. Finally, when she moved, all she did was turn her face slightly into the down-filled pillow, loose fist curling into a tight one to grip the fabric of the pillowcase. It looked more like she were hiding from his words than anything. How could he even talk to her? Everything--
Jack sighed softly at her reaction. He lifted his hand to her hair and gently ran his fingers through it. "Vala...Please, just talk to me." He knew he was repeating himself, but he just couldn't really thing of anything else to say. He knew it wasn't her doing all those things, it was Qetesh, or a impretion of Qetesh, he didn't really get the whole slug not snake thing, all he really knew was that it was not her. "You gotta talk to someone, and I'm not leaving til you do."
She turned further, jaw tightening, face screwing up as she fought another onslaught of tears. She had been coping, slowly pushing everything one by one back under the surface. But all it took was a kind word, a soft touch, and it all exploded forward again, leaving a lump in her throat. She clenched her teeth, gripped the pillow hard with a trembling hand, but as hard as she tried she could stop the choked, inarticulate sob from erupting, unwelcome, from her throat.
Jack's expression turned worried at the sob that escaped from the woman. He moved closer to her on the bed and reached over with his free hand to hold the hend clenching the pillow. He managed to remove her hand from the pillow and held it in his own as he moved her into a seating postion. "C'mere." He gathered her in his arms and held her, rocking her back and forth.
She went, almost limply, into his arms. As he encased her in an embrace, her first reaction was to stiffen, choking on tears as she tried to stem the flow. When he didn't let go, simple hushed her and held her, her shoulders slouched and a shattered sound left her. Shaking violently, her hands fisted into the hem of his shirt, face pressed into the curve of neck and shoulder, and she wept loudly, the sounds pulled from somewhere low in her gut.
Jack held her tightly to him, his arms encircling her protectively. He ran one hand along her back, trying to sooth her. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her hair as she continued to weep. He didn't try to stop her or shush her, knowing that she needed to let it out. Jack simply sat there and let it happen, just sat there and held her.
Seconds, minutes, hours... Vala had, over the last three days, completely lost track of time, and so she was unsure how long she stayed like that, clinging needily to Jack's shirt and sobbing her heart out. Slowly, although her body still shook like a leaf in a hurricane, the sounds ebbed, and the tears slowed, and she swallowed thickly. She focused on breathing when the worst was over, the scent of his cologne, the solid grip of his arms-- anything to keep herself grounded. She wasn't used to this kind of kindness, tangible, physical concern. And as foreign as it was, she was surprised by how comforting it was to be held by somehow who cared.
Jack continued rubbing her back, remembering that it always made Charlie calmer when the boy was upset over something.Though this moment was different from any he had with Charlie, Jack figured the feeling would still remain constant. He pulled back slightly and lifted her head to look at her. Smiling softly, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, "There, not so bad was it?" He began rubbing her back again and waited for her to say something.
Vala normally took a great deal of care in her appearance, and were she in a less distraught state of mind, she would have made a sideways comment about Jack seeing her in such a manner. Lips swollen, eyes red, face streaked with tears. She didn't quite meet his eyes as he thumbed the water-tracks from her skin, but she was too tired, mentally, emotionally, to fight him in any way. She just closed her eyes, exhausted, pained, and leaned her face into his palm.
He layed her head on his shoulders and ran his fingers through her hair, combing it slightly. He gathered her close once again and shifted them so he was leaning back against the headboard, with her laying against his chest. Jack kept his arms around her, not wanting to let go. "Vala," He talked softly into her ear, "What happened? What's got you so..." He didn't even have words for the emotional state she was in, sad and depressed didn't even cover it. "Other than the obvious." He wanted to know, needed to know, to help her.
All the fight, if any had remained over the passed three days, left her. As he tugged, she went, body stretched between his legs and across his chest, head tucked under his chin. She sniffed, one hand untangling from its grip on his shirt to wipe uselessly at her face. She opened her mouth, ready to attempt to speak, but her throat closed again and she shut her eyes tight, tensing. It was still so fresh. So painful.
Jack tightened his hold on her when he felt her body stiffen, "It's okay, it's okay, I get it. Not ready to talk." He did get it, he knew what it was like to not want to talk. After Charlie, he didn't talk to anyone, not even Sara, not wanting to revisit the pain again. He brought her in closer and just rocked her slightly, trying to calm her down, waiting until she was ready.
She whimpered softly, turned her face against his collarbone, and went still again. Once again, it took a while before her body eased, but slowly she relaxed against him again. In fact, she went so loose against his chest, pliant and warm, that it was almost a sure thing she had fallen asleep. No whimpering, no trickling sobs, no hitch of breath. She just lay there, curled against his chest.
Rating; PG
Characters; Jack O'Neill [
thorsbuddy] and Vala Mal Doran riteofmaldoranSummary; Vala's locked herself in her room, Jack is worried.
Log;
Jack sat on the floor leaning back against the door jam. He sighed softly. Vala had been in her room for that last three days and it was starting to piss him off. He lifted an arm and knocked on the door. He turned his head, "Vala? You gotta come out sometime." He was worried about her, after what she had gone through in the past few days. Jack didn't know what it was like to be a host to a goa'uld, since he was only ever a host to a Tok'ra, and he could never imagine what it was like to have it happen twice. "That's it." He muttered under his breath and stood up. He knew the door was locked, but then he had been in Black Ops. He braced himself and grasped the doorknob. He smashed his shoulder into the hard wood and felt the door give way beneath the force. He smiled triumphantly as he stepped over the threshold, though the feeling faded when he took in the form laying on the bed. "Vala?"
Her bed was in the centre of the room, large enough to fit two people, and while that wasn't ridiculously large, the figure curled in its centre looked too small to belong there. Knees tucked up, she rested on top of the comforter thrown across the bed. One hand was curled under her chin, the other in a loose fist against the pillow in front of her mouth. The doorway was at the foot of the bed, though, and with black hair strewn across pillow and shoulders alike, chin tucked, it was impossible to tell if she was awake. She was so still it hardly looked as though she were breathing, and even though Jack had-- for all intents and purposes-- just smashed her door in, she appeared completely unaware.
Jack paused for a moment just inside the room, taking in the picture Vala made. His mind flashbacked for a moment, to a time when Sara would lay on their bed in the same position, mourning. He shook his head to rid himself of the image and stepping further into the room, to be in Vala's line of sight should she open her eyes. He moved closer to the bed and gingerly sat down on the edge of the matress. He hated seeing her like this, seeing anyone like this, really. So frail when he knew she was anything but. He reached out a hand and brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His movements were careful, not wanting to wake her up if she was sleeping, even though he needed her to talk.
Even when he dusted hair from her face she didn't stir, though when it was moved, it became clear that she wasn't actually sleeping. Instead, her eyes were down-cast, half-lidded, staring blankly into a portion of space only she could see. She looked unfocused (or too focused?), out of touch with what was going on around her. In her state, had he come in raging and screaming, it was unlikely she would have even lifted her head to acknowledge him. As his fingers brushed passed her ear, though, her eyes closed.
He smiled sadly down at her, "Vala? I know you're awake." He wished the situation was different, and that he wasn't in here trying to get her to talk about something he knew she didn't want to talk about. However, there was nothing he could do to change the situation. "C'mon, you gotta talk sometime." He moved his hand over her should and down her arm, before he rested it on her side. "Please." His voice softened to a whisper, though it still seemed loud in the quiet room.
She stayed quiet, remained that way for so long that had it been anyone else, they might have given up and left her to her own devices. Finally, when she moved, all she did was turn her face slightly into the down-filled pillow, loose fist curling into a tight one to grip the fabric of the pillowcase. It looked more like she were hiding from his words than anything. How could he even talk to her? Everything--
Jack sighed softly at her reaction. He lifted his hand to her hair and gently ran his fingers through it. "Vala...Please, just talk to me." He knew he was repeating himself, but he just couldn't really thing of anything else to say. He knew it wasn't her doing all those things, it was Qetesh, or a impretion of Qetesh, he didn't really get the whole slug not snake thing, all he really knew was that it was not her. "You gotta talk to someone, and I'm not leaving til you do."
She turned further, jaw tightening, face screwing up as she fought another onslaught of tears. She had been coping, slowly pushing everything one by one back under the surface. But all it took was a kind word, a soft touch, and it all exploded forward again, leaving a lump in her throat. She clenched her teeth, gripped the pillow hard with a trembling hand, but as hard as she tried she could stop the choked, inarticulate sob from erupting, unwelcome, from her throat.
Jack's expression turned worried at the sob that escaped from the woman. He moved closer to her on the bed and reached over with his free hand to hold the hend clenching the pillow. He managed to remove her hand from the pillow and held it in his own as he moved her into a seating postion. "C'mere." He gathered her in his arms and held her, rocking her back and forth.
She went, almost limply, into his arms. As he encased her in an embrace, her first reaction was to stiffen, choking on tears as she tried to stem the flow. When he didn't let go, simple hushed her and held her, her shoulders slouched and a shattered sound left her. Shaking violently, her hands fisted into the hem of his shirt, face pressed into the curve of neck and shoulder, and she wept loudly, the sounds pulled from somewhere low in her gut.
Jack held her tightly to him, his arms encircling her protectively. He ran one hand along her back, trying to sooth her. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her hair as she continued to weep. He didn't try to stop her or shush her, knowing that she needed to let it out. Jack simply sat there and let it happen, just sat there and held her.
Seconds, minutes, hours... Vala had, over the last three days, completely lost track of time, and so she was unsure how long she stayed like that, clinging needily to Jack's shirt and sobbing her heart out. Slowly, although her body still shook like a leaf in a hurricane, the sounds ebbed, and the tears slowed, and she swallowed thickly. She focused on breathing when the worst was over, the scent of his cologne, the solid grip of his arms-- anything to keep herself grounded. She wasn't used to this kind of kindness, tangible, physical concern. And as foreign as it was, she was surprised by how comforting it was to be held by somehow who cared.
Jack continued rubbing her back, remembering that it always made Charlie calmer when the boy was upset over something.Though this moment was different from any he had with Charlie, Jack figured the feeling would still remain constant. He pulled back slightly and lifted her head to look at her. Smiling softly, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, "There, not so bad was it?" He began rubbing her back again and waited for her to say something.
Vala normally took a great deal of care in her appearance, and were she in a less distraught state of mind, she would have made a sideways comment about Jack seeing her in such a manner. Lips swollen, eyes red, face streaked with tears. She didn't quite meet his eyes as he thumbed the water-tracks from her skin, but she was too tired, mentally, emotionally, to fight him in any way. She just closed her eyes, exhausted, pained, and leaned her face into his palm.
He layed her head on his shoulders and ran his fingers through her hair, combing it slightly. He gathered her close once again and shifted them so he was leaning back against the headboard, with her laying against his chest. Jack kept his arms around her, not wanting to let go. "Vala," He talked softly into her ear, "What happened? What's got you so..." He didn't even have words for the emotional state she was in, sad and depressed didn't even cover it. "Other than the obvious." He wanted to know, needed to know, to help her.
All the fight, if any had remained over the passed three days, left her. As he tugged, she went, body stretched between his legs and across his chest, head tucked under his chin. She sniffed, one hand untangling from its grip on his shirt to wipe uselessly at her face. She opened her mouth, ready to attempt to speak, but her throat closed again and she shut her eyes tight, tensing. It was still so fresh. So painful.
Jack tightened his hold on her when he felt her body stiffen, "It's okay, it's okay, I get it. Not ready to talk." He did get it, he knew what it was like to not want to talk. After Charlie, he didn't talk to anyone, not even Sara, not wanting to revisit the pain again. He brought her in closer and just rocked her slightly, trying to calm her down, waiting until she was ready.
She whimpered softly, turned her face against his collarbone, and went still again. Once again, it took a while before her body eased, but slowly she relaxed against him again. In fact, she went so loose against his chest, pliant and warm, that it was almost a sure thing she had fallen asleep. No whimpering, no trickling sobs, no hitch of breath. She just lay there, curled against his chest.