He regretted the words the moment he said them.
Of course there were things he'd kill to go back and change, knowing what he knew now. The look on Jack's face – his face, if he wanted to get technical, his face as it would look in thirty-five years or so – was an echo of what was on his own.
The weight almost fifty years of grief and loss pressed down on fifteen-year old shoulders. All the things he'd done wrong, all the opportunities missed, all the decisions that could have been made better, if only he'd known...
If he'd have realized how curious a ten-year old boy could be, he would have left his gun at work. He would have locked the drawer. He would never have made his job sound romantic.
If he'd understood how hard it would be for a woman to lose her son, and then to lose her husband to a drunken, suicidal depression, he would have gone to therapy. He would have tried to listen. He would have never let himself get so far away from her that he barely noticed when she packed his belongings and tossed him onto the street.
If he'd thought about how the missions were affecting SG1's civilian member, he would have spent more nights trying to get them drunk enough to talk about it. He would have requested more of those boring, scientific trips through the gate. He would have stopped juggling artefacts and started listening to his friend, and done something to keep him on Earth and the lower planes of existance where he belonged.
But he no longer had to worry about facing Daniel every day, or writing monthly cheques to Sara, or staring at a picture of Charlie taped in his locker...
He was losing his life, *his* life, for crying out loud. *His* job. *His* friends. He was getting a chance to start over, and all it was costing him was everything.
The shock and sadness on Jack's face was gone when he looked back across the cab of the truck. Only he knew it had ever been, and that he had put it there. And he knew he had to get out before he made the situation worse.
He bluffed and bravado'd his way out of the truck, and out of his... out of *Jack's* life, forever.
It was easier than he thought. After all, he still had his special ops knowledge. He could fool anyone, even himself.
He pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and slid them on before he turned and walked away.
This is completely unbeta'd. Any and all errors are mine. Comments and criticism welcome, flames will promptly be doused in ice water.
© 22 Jun 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.