![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sarbear12456.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Realisation
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Prompt: 218 - Explosion
Warnings: ???
Rating: Teen
Summary: Tag for Heroes Pt.1. Sam realises Jack's been hit.
A message was sent.
That was a staff blast. It was a little prickling pain, something you ignore at first because you had no explanation for it. She knew what she was seeing was wrong, but couldn’t process why. She was trying to puzzle out why it was important that it had hit him. Her train of thought continued in a similar fashion for what seemed like a while, but was probably only milliseconds. He always said her brain went too fast. Then it hit her. Oh.
The message was received, set to cause destruction on a massive scale.
That was a staff blast…it hit him. It had dawned on her that he couldn’t get up. Then for another few milliseconds that seemed to extend for eternities she was furious. Desperate, enraged, angry, incensed, irrational, manic. Her aim had never been better as she shot down enemy Jaffa, blaming them for what had happened.
Contrasting massages added up, subtracted, processed. Yes or no, 1 or 0, wait or blow.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me. Risking her life, rather stupidly, she left the cover of the rock she was crouched behind to reach him. Not his body, him. He could still be alive if she could just get to him in time. She could get in the way of any more staff blasts, just getting him out of the way.
Yes, 1, blow.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me…he’s not getting up. A much more powerful realization came to her. It caused neurons to fire up everywhere, recalling everything. Apophis’s ship. When he broke the centrifuge. Machello’s anti-goa’uld slugs. Meeting him in the briefing room that first time. Confessing he wasn’t a Za’tarc. Going to the Balisner to help with replicators. Firefight after firefight. Every instant in his presence was scrutinized for a why or a how or a when or a where. In every instant she had known this was coming. It ate her up, memories torn apart and mixed together to make some kind of sense of what she saw. It was a violent eruption in her mind. It absolutely decimated her.
Things settled, became orderly and normal once again. Things were different, but the space was no longer occupied by bursts of light, heat and sound.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me…he’s not getting up…but I can still survive. Once again her mind was orderly and rational. Memories all accurate and in chronological order. She accepted that he was dead, but it didn’t mean she was too. She began to move toward the ‘gate. She could get everyone else home. Then she would grieve.
You find something you thought was lost. It wasn’t, just buried under grime and soot, waiting to be found again.
He’s moving. He’s alive!
(A/N: This relates the five stages of grieving (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance) to a bomb being set of (detonator pressed, message sent, message decoded by the detonator, explosion and aftermath))
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Prompt: 218 - Explosion
Warnings: ???
Rating: Teen
Summary: Tag for Heroes Pt.1. Sam realises Jack's been hit.
A message was sent.
That was a staff blast. It was a little prickling pain, something you ignore at first because you had no explanation for it. She knew what she was seeing was wrong, but couldn’t process why. She was trying to puzzle out why it was important that it had hit him. Her train of thought continued in a similar fashion for what seemed like a while, but was probably only milliseconds. He always said her brain went too fast. Then it hit her. Oh.
The message was received, set to cause destruction on a massive scale.
That was a staff blast…it hit him. It had dawned on her that he couldn’t get up. Then for another few milliseconds that seemed to extend for eternities she was furious. Desperate, enraged, angry, incensed, irrational, manic. Her aim had never been better as she shot down enemy Jaffa, blaming them for what had happened.
Contrasting massages added up, subtracted, processed. Yes or no, 1 or 0, wait or blow.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me. Risking her life, rather stupidly, she left the cover of the rock she was crouched behind to reach him. Not his body, him. He could still be alive if she could just get to him in time. She could get in the way of any more staff blasts, just getting him out of the way.
Yes, 1, blow.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me…he’s not getting up. A much more powerful realization came to her. It caused neurons to fire up everywhere, recalling everything. Apophis’s ship. When he broke the centrifuge. Machello’s anti-goa’uld slugs. Meeting him in the briefing room that first time. Confessing he wasn’t a Za’tarc. Going to the Balisner to help with replicators. Firefight after firefight. Every instant in his presence was scrutinized for a why or a how or a when or a where. In every instant she had known this was coming. It ate her up, memories torn apart and mixed together to make some kind of sense of what she saw. It was a violent eruption in her mind. It absolutely decimated her.
Things settled, became orderly and normal once again. Things were different, but the space was no longer occupied by bursts of light, heat and sound.
That was a staff blast…it hit him…not me…he’s not getting up…but I can still survive. Once again her mind was orderly and rational. Memories all accurate and in chronological order. She accepted that he was dead, but it didn’t mean she was too. She began to move toward the ‘gate. She could get everyone else home. Then she would grieve.
You find something you thought was lost. It wasn’t, just buried under grime and soot, waiting to be found again.
He’s moving. He’s alive!
(A/N: This relates the five stages of grieving (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance) to a bomb being set of (detonator pressed, message sent, message decoded by the detonator, explosion and aftermath))
