Title:Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow
Summary:Jack O'Neill looks to the stars.
Disclaimer:I do not own Stargate SG-1, as much as I wish I did. I do not own either the title of this particular work of fiction, which is in fact a quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth.
How long had he been here? A year? Three? Five? He had no way of knowing. The days lasted what seemed like forever, and the nights twice as long. He watched through what would be best described as a small window the stars as they light up his lonely nights.
"Last mission, I promise."
She smiles, and he grins back. "Sure. I know it is."
"I'll be careful, I know."
The small boy in her arms laughs suddenly, and his parents smile at him. His father leans over and kisses him on his soft, velveteen hair, then kisses the boy's mother.
"I'll be back before you can say... something really long and scientific!"
She just smiles and watches him leave.
They would come for him, at what passed for dawn on this far-flung world. They would poke at him with needles and instruments and would give drugs, drugs that sent his mind past any mesure of time or space. The pain would be intense, and it was in these moments that he hoped to die, to drop dead in silent and ever-lasting peace.
But then he would remember her.
"I'll love you forever."
"I know you will."
The door to his cell opened suddenly, and three armed guards came in. He was confused; it was the middle of the night, what did they need him for? They yanked him to his feet roughly and half held him, half dragged him through the quiet hallways of the cold prison, the darkness penetrated only by dim lights on the ceiling.
He slipped in and out of consciousness, as the sudden movement was doing horrors to his battered and broken immune system. His head rang with the pounding of a thousand drums, and he whispered for them to stop. A guard heard him, and swiftly struck him across the face. Everything faded.
"Be good for your mother," he whispers slowly, softly.
He awoke to find himself tied to table in a quiet courtyard. A acrid smell was in the air, and a foul taste in his mouth. Something within him was weakening, and he knew that they have no longer a use for him.
-You've become a philosopher in your prison time... he though, as he chided himself mentally.
He looked straight up into the night sky, and noticed a shooting star tumble from its pedestal in the heavens. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow..." he whispered, as the star faded from sight and his eyes closed one final time.
A million light-years away, a young boy watches a star flicker and blink out.