[identity profile] magickmoons.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: After the End
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Prompt: 316 - dilapidated
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: There's only one place to go
Notes: This is the seed of what I imagine will be a larger story. It might follow a drabble I wrote a while ago, Just Another Dinner. ETA: on further thought, it can't follow on from Just Another Dinner, other than in spirit.



   After the End   

Jack stopped walking when his cabin finally came into sight. Heavy breaths sat in the cold air as he leaned tiredly against a tree and watched for any signs of life. The cabin looked all wrong somehow, sitting there whole and solid and almost exactly like he remembered it. It had been, what, four months since he’d been here? No, he corrected himself, four months since the attack. He probably hadn’t been up here for a good couple of months before that. But even six months of disuse couldn’t muster the ruin and dilapidation he had half-expected to find. Apparently, the attack had focused primarily on metropolitan areas, leaving the few out-of-the-way, rural buildings he’d come across strange monuments of normalcy.

He played with the idea of just turning and leaving, leaving the cabin forever unchanged, memories of love and laughter and passion safe within walls that could now conceivably outlast humanity itself. He watched and waited for five minutes, ten minutes, before he admitted that he wasn’t going any farther any time soon. He needed rest and food. There wouldn’t be anything fresh in the cabin, but he always kept it well-stocked with non-perishables for emergencies.

Small snowflakes started to dance in the air around him. Jack winced as he pushed off the tree trunk and trudged slowly up to the porch. His eyes continued to scan the area. He told himself he was looking for evidence of squatters, someone who might take exception to the cabin’s owner showing up unexpectedly. He was not in any shape for an unexpected confrontation.

But still, the slow crushing feeling in his chest worsened when no one made themselves known when his boots thudded on the porch, when that hinge he had meant to oil last time he was here creaked as he pulled the screen door open. They were supposed to be here. At the end of the world, they would all meet here. He shook his head; It was a vow that had been made in another life.

Letting the screen door rest against his all-but-useless left arm, he made sure his sidearm was easily accessible, then slowly tried the knob. Unlocked, he pushed the door open and cautiously entered the cabin, easing the screen door shut behind him.

There were definite signs that someone was staying here. A pillow and a pile of blankets sat on the couch, an empty glass on the table in front of it. The fireplace showed signs of recent use.

Jack slowly pulled his gun from his jacket pocket and walked over to the couch. His pulse was racing and he tried not to let hope blind him as he looked at the few remnants of the cabin’s current occupant. Nothing to tell him who it was.

He stilled when he heard heavy bootsteps on the porch and the creak of the damn screen door. Bringing his gun up as he turned, he found himself face to face - well, gun to gun - with Daniel.

TBC...

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