It's dark in this room, but not nearly so dark as the hole of depression into which I've fallen. In that is a blackness so thick even the love shining from Sara's eyes and the brightness of Charlie's smile cannot penetrate.
I'm pulling Sara and Charlie into this living grave with me. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I am as helpless now as I was when Frank left me behind, as I was when I waited desperately for him to come back, as I was for those months I survived in Hell.
Helpless then, helpless now.
God, that is so hard to admit, even to myself.
But it's true.
The impact is only now sinking in. The affects of the hatred I fed on when there was no food to fill my aching gut. The results of the loss of a trust that was ripped from my soul with the disappearing sound of chopper rotor blades. The change from who I was.
Altered irrevocably, with one decision.
He left me behind and trust was shattered. I never realized how eggshell fragile trust truly is. I trusted him, oh God, I trusted him! We were like brothers and he walked away.
How can I trust again? How can I trust my country, my wife, myself? The darkness is winning and like a Black Hole, it is sucking me in. Sucking the life out of me. I have become that void.
Frank's gone. Oh, he tried to come back, visit me in the hospital, tried to apologize, to explain, but it's impossible to repair a crushed shell. And that's how I feel. What I have become. The shell of trust I took for granted has shattered. It has been ground to dust and trampled into the dirt.
I feel Sara's grief as she lays silently, stiffly, next to me. I'm aware of her tears, her fears. I know what I'm doing to her, but I can't make myself reach out. A pit separates us, filled with quicksand waiting to swallow what little of me remains.
Sara cries, but if I reach for her will she pull away? Will she abandon me like Frank did? How can I be sure? I can't even allow myself the comfort of hope. A hope that things will get better. The inability to put my trust in hope was one of the first lessons the Iraqis taught me. And I learned my lesson well. No trust, no hope, no comfort, no end.
There are those who would have me forgive Frank. Forgive him, not only for his sake, but for my own. But I can't and I won't. The blackness has become too much a part of who I am, who I have become.
Hatred is better, easier. I can trust hate. It won't let me down. It has become as much a part of me as the scars on my body. Hatred won't leave me behind.
The darkness is safe. It brings what little comfort I can allow myself. I clothe myself in it. It fits me better than my uniform now. It brings the only peace I can find.
Damn Frank to eternal Hell for what he did to me. Damn me to eternal Hell for what I am doing to Sara, and to Charlie.
Hatred and darkness has become my friends, my only friends. Please God, don't let them abandon me, too. I will cease to exist, if they leave me behind.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Happy Birthday, Flora. This one's for you. Many thanks go to Karen for her willingness to drop everything and beta for me. As always, feedback is appreciated.
© March, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.