TITLE: 2:10pm
AUTHOR: tigermoth26
CATEGORY: DJR, ANGST o RAMA!, vingette, future story
SUMMARY: When there's nothing but darkness, your friends will always be with you.
DISCLAIMER: The stargate people aren't mine.


She lies awake under the choking cover of darkness, deep in the bowels of the fire-scarred mountain. Nothing can touch her here. A fury rages, far away, up high, above the ground, outside the cold, grey shelter of her concrete room.

Out in the open, away from the chilled shelter of Cheyenne Mountain, echo the sounds of falling bombs. Fire, heat, grime. A furnace. One great, big, festering cesspool of rage. Of hatred. Of revenge.
Two ways in, but only one way out. Peace, or war. War begets Death. The Children of Darkness. One way out. The pathway to destruction.

To think...oh, the irony of it all! A war against their own. A lust for blood, and the death of their own people. No aliens, no False Gods. Just people of the Tau'ri. Woman against woman, man against man. The bible said; 'eye for eye, tooth for tooth,hand for hand, foot for foot'. Take only what is taken. Take revenge, but do not take vengeance. Never throw back more than what is thrown at you. Your own flesh and blood. Love them, forgive them...for they know not what they do.

They fight for revenge, they fight for hate. They fight for dominance, for power.

They fight: For the thrill of war.

Sighing, she tosses in her bed. Her daughter slumbers next to her, taken deep underground like Persephone to hide her from the evil light of day. In the darkness, she reaches out to stroke the sweet child's cheek. Soft, warm. The gentle, radiating heat of a real live person.

So much is lost now. So many gone for the siren song of war. Come, kill with me. I will be your ebony friend. Dance with me, I will teach you how to weep.

Dropping her hand from Cassandra's cheek, she flings away her coarse blankets, and stands up quietly from the bed. She turns around in the darkness and fumbles the blankets back up around the child's neck. The muted thunder of A-26 bombs prod at the deafening silence as she quietly opens the door and out into the hallway.

The night-lights cast an otherworldly glow along the smooth grey corridors. She follows the taped blue line, hugging her arms against the cold.
Finally, finally, she reaches her destination. Knock knock, gently upon the closed door. Waiting anxiously for an answer. Surely, he must still be awake.

Cree-ee-eak, the door slowly opens. Sleep-mussed hair, hastily donned glasses. Boxers, not briefs. He looks at her in surprise. "Janet?"

She casts her brown eyes into his. Her arms still clasped tightly around her chest. In all her angsting, her sadness, and her longing for the human touch, she forgot that she was clad only in a blue silken negligee. Embarassment flashes briefly over her cheeks, but is vanquished with the return of her sorrow and her pain. "I couldn't sleep." She mumbles. Perhaps seeking his comfort was not such a good idea after all...

Stepping forwards, he pulls her into his arms. Love your neighbour, my children, as I would love you. His warming heart banishes the cold. Far back into the whispering shadows.

"I'm here for you."

Ah, such is friendship, such is love. 'I will give up whole nations to save your life, because you are precious to me. Do not be afraid - I am with you.'

She relaxes slowly into his embrace. His love for her flows from within. She loves him back. It is true.
A cliche, within a cliche, within a cliche. Love - sprung from war. The soft, white rose. Banishes the dust. There are no shadows, there is no darkness. Only love. Bittersweet, but real.

Above the mountain, the fury rages. Still hating, still jealous. Still coveting your neighbours goods. I do not love. My friend is war.

My child is Death.
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