Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - [SFP #1] Bad, Bad Day [Complete]

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

There are certain things one should never see before the morning dose of coffee. Your son’s culinary experiments re-imagined through canine regurgitation was one of them. Olivia stood in her pajamas and robe and wondered why the dog’s puke was purple; with a sense of distant shock, she realized she was stunned beyond comprehension. I should clean that up, she thought, but she didn’t move, because the next thought was, Dom should clean that up.

Stepping over the mess gingerly, Olivia headed for the coffee pot, its addictive aroma nearly overwhelmed by the stink on the floor. She moved with a slight hitch in her step; her left knee didn’t bend properly. It was an old fracture that had never healed perfectly. Despite her slight handicap, she managed to get her coffee creamed and sweetened without stepping in the mess. She walked through the living room, sighing at the clutter on the floor. Hadn’t she just cleaned?

That was all she did anymore: cleaned. And mothered. And worked. As she stared at her home, she acknowledged what she had been trying not to think for a while. She loved Dom; she loved being his mom. But she missed being sexy. She missed having the freedom to stay up all night and sleep until noon. She missed all the things that meeting Vinny had taken away from her: being sexy, being free and being irresponsible.

You made your choices, she sighed, tightening her robe around her waist. She wouldn’t change any of the ones about Dom, not even the ones that she was currently regretting. But there was a part of her that knew she’d never meant to end up here, in this place. And it wasn’t just Dom that had put her here. She was supposed to be a journalist or teaching anthropology but thanks to Dr. Daniel Jackson, she was an academic pariah who couldn’t work anywhere but for the secretive government agency, Homeworld Security.

At least, she consoled herself, she’d been able to stick to her diet for the last six months, and she almost felt like herself again. Her desk job and tendency to eat too many carbs had put twenty extra pounds on her which had been a bitch to get off. But now she was back in her old clothing and her office-chair butt was almost gone. Some of the fat left was the natural slump as she got older, but she was proud that she’d done what she could to offset it.

All pleasure and happy thoughts were forgotten when she got to the top of the stairs and saw more purple goo in the hallway. This was fresh; it hadn’t been there when she’d come downstairs. But what really destroyed her good mood was the fact that someone had stepped in it and tracked it into the bathroom.

“Dominic Wright Jenings-Izumi!” Olivia roared in her best ‘mom-voice’. From her son’s bedroom came a rustling of fabric, and Olivia marched in without knocking. As always, his area was a shocking change from the rest of the house, which was decorated in ‘disorganized scholar’. Dominic’s room was more ‘Air Force meets kindergarten’. Model fighter jets hung from the ceiling; the wall had posters that Dominic had picked up at the last Memorial Day Air Show. G.I. Joes and other military toys festooned the floor and shelves. The room was a near-shrine to the ideal of Dom’s father – an ideal that Olivia herself had encouraged. It had seemed better for Dom to believe that his father was a hero saving the country rather than an asshole who couldn’t live up to responsibility. Someday, Olivia would have to tell him the truth, but she hoped that by then, her son’s self-esteem could take the blow. Looking around, she wasn’t sure that was a good idea. For now, Dominic believed his father was a good man, and that Olivia and Dom were sacrificing being with him for the betterment of the world.

Yeah, she really should have just told him the truth from the start.

Her son blinked up at her from his bed; he must have gotten up, went to the bathroom and come back, despite the fact that his alarm had already gone off. The snooze light was blinking as her six-year-old child looked at her and said, “Address me by my rank.”

Olivia counted to three. “Dom,” she said softly, her tone a clear warning.

Her son gazed up at her with fearless eyes and said, “General, I can only respond to my rank.”

“Fine, Lieutenant,” Olivia said, after counting to five. “Sergeant Dogson has been sick in the hallway and the kitchen. Your mission is to clean up both messes.”

Her son didn’t hesitate. Dominic bounced to his feet – still on his bed, Olivia noticed as she tried not to feel a tick coming on – and snapped off a salute. “Yes ma’am!” he said and hustled out of the room. Olivia sank onto the bed, weak with relief. The only good thing about her son’s fascination with the military was his insistence that everyone in the house have a rank and that military procedure be followed – or what Dominic thought military procedure was. Olivia had tweaked his expectations on the matter enough to make things a bit easier for her. So long as his obsession persisted, he did as she asked if she phrased it as an order. She knew most people would kill to have a mechanism to make their children so obedient, but she worried about the long-term effects on his psyche. Apparently, she didn’t worry enough to stop doing it, which was another worry.

Behind her, a shaggy reddish-brown lump of fur rose from the foot of the bed and thumped to the floor. Sergeant Dogson stretched and yawned lazily, his massive frame making Olivia frown. He looked like he’d grown in the night – again. The guy at the pound had sworn that the puppy wouldn’t get big. He’d said that the mop of ginger fur was half-Irish Settler and they weren’t a large breed. But whatever Dogson’s other half had been, he or she had given the puppy the genetics for a pony-sized body. Olivia suspected that one of the parents had been a Wolfhound, just from his build.

The dog moved out into the hallway, trailing after Dom. It was his dog; Olivia could pet and play with him, but Sarge had one master. Olivia heard Dom chatting with Sarge, as if he were really a man under Dom’s command. She doubted that telling the dog not to vomit would do any good, but she gave her son props for trying. Stepping out into the hall, she added, “After that, Lieutenant, get ready for school – er, ROTC. And remember to get all your homework. I don’t want the teacher telling me you’re forgetting things again.”

“Yes, General!” Dom barked, bent over his task. He was diligently working on the vomit; they’d still have to shampoo the carpet, but it was a start.

Things were looking up and she felt better as she went to get ready. Olivia carried her coffee into her bedroom suite, sipping it around showering and dressing. Today, she decided to celebrate meeting her goal weight by dressing up a little. She put on a lacy spaghetti strap top, the one that covered both a work-appropriate amount of her breasts and her belly. She wore one of her voluminous skirts with a high slit; it only showed leg when she moved in a certain way, so it was decent for work. She selected a suit jacket of the same color as the skirt; the jacket made it more professional, softening the sexy top to something sensual instead. A pair of comfortable flats and a few accessories completed her outfit. A touch of subtle makeup and some gel in her hair to control the frizz, and she was done. Her coffee was gone, but she felt awake finally, like she could face the day. Giving her reflection a smile, she walked into her bedroom.

Dom was sitting on her bed, his arms wrapped around Sarge. Olivia’s immediate reaction was to shoo the dog off her bed and demand to know if Dom had his homework ready, but a second look changed her mind. “Baby?” she asked, before she could stop herself. He hated to be called that. “What’s wrong?”

“Uncle Carl is in the living room,” Dom whispered. Sarge whimpered softly, responding to Dom’s distress.

Shit. Shit. Carl had been stationed in Afghanistan and she thought he wasn’t due back for two more months. That had been two months she’d been counting on to come up with a plan to get him away from them – for good. “Go get dressed and get your schoolwork,” she said quickly. “Take Sarge with you.” How did he get into the house? He’d never tell her; he’d enjoy lording it over her, knowing she couldn’t risk calling the cops.

Dom bolted back to his room as Olivia straightened her shoulders. Her keys were downstairs, along with her ID and her purse. She had to get them, and get Dom out to the car without setting Carl off. Once she had Dom safe, she could think about what to do.

Olivia walked downstairs, feeling her knee tighten with each step. It was psychosomatic, a reaction to being close to the man who had broken the joint so many years ago. She ignored it and walked into her living room, glaring at him. “Carl,” she said softly, swallowing the urge to order him out of the house with all the hate she felt. “Wasn’t expecting you. Or expecting to find you in my house.”

He just smiled, his dark eyes mocking as he stared at her. Her breath caught as she realized he had her ID and her phone in his hands. “I got home early, honey. Thought I’d come see my favorite lady.” His lips twisted cruelly as he added, “Little Dominic didn’t seem happy to see me.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Olivia said stonily, her eyes roaming the room looking for her purse. “He remembers your last visit.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I brought him a gift,” Carl smirked. “Something nice for a growing boy.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Olivia replied, spotting the purse next to the television. Now, for the keys. To her surprise, they were in the bowl by the door. She was sure that Carl would try to keep them from her. “This isn’t a good time, Carl. Dom has school; I have work.”

“I see you’re working at Groom Lake,” he said, hefting her ID. “Studying little gray men?”

“You know I can’t talk about that,” Olivia said, clenching her fists. She knew that putting it like that would only challenge him to break her. Perhaps he’d respect the restrictions of classified information. She casually walked over and picked up her purse, checking to be sure her wallet was there. She wanted to check and make sure her cash and cards were there, but didn’t dare in front of him. One way to control her was to control her money, but she didn’t want to telegraph that.

He lifted her phone. “Who’s Darian?” His tone seemed casual, but she heard the dangerous undertone.

Olivia sighed. “He’s a co-worker, Carl. I don’t have time to date, so just stop that bullshit.”

“I get concerned when I see men calling my girl.” He frowned. “And Michael. And Omar. Goodness, but you’re a popular woman. Looks like it’s good that I’m back in town to keep an eye on you.”

Olivia clenched her teeth but didn’t argue. She’d have her chance to tell him off later, she promised herself. Someday, she’d get away from him and she could tell him everything she’d ever thought. “It’s a business thing.” Olivia walked over and held out her hand. “I have to get going. My phone and my ID.”

Carl stared at her for a long moment. That smirk didn’t fade as he handed her the ID badge. “I’ll keep the phone for today,” he told her. “You can have it back tonight.”

Tonight. Olivia didn’t like the implication in those words. “Fine,” she said testily. “Dom! We’re leaving.”

He had to have been waiting at the top of the stairs. Dom came bolting down like the upstairs were on fire, Sarge close on his heels. Olivia didn’t object to the presence of the dog; if he was throwing up like that, he needed to go to the vet. She gave her keys to her son and said, “Go start the car.”

Dom started to leave, but Carl said, “Domy, wait.” Olivia tensed; her son stopped and looked at her. Olivia took his hand, knowing that their fear was only making Carl enjoy it more. “I have a gift for you. You want it?”

“We have to go, he’ll be late,” Olivia protested, not wanting to see whatever Carl thought was a ‘nice gift’ for a six-year-old kid.

“It’ll take a moment,” Carl snapped. Olivia fought a flinch; that tone meant that she was earning herself more pain for later.

“Sure, of course,” Olivia said, hating to relent but knowing that she was saving herself worse later. “Where is it?”

Carl pulled a box out of his inner coat pocket. It looked more like a jewelry box than something more ominous. “Come here, Dom,” he ordered.

Olivia nodded to her son. “Go on,” she said softly. Carl had never offered violence to Dominic before, and so long as the boy was cooperative, she believed that he wouldn’t hurt him. It was why she tried to keep Dom on his good side.

Her son crossed to Carl and stood before him. Carl looked him up and down and said, “My, you’ve become a big boy.”

“Thank you,” he said with a wan smile.

“And so polite,” he said. “You’re a good boy. Here.” He handed the box to Dominic, who tore off the wrapping and opened it, revealing a large pocket knife. “Every boy’s father should give them a pocket knife when they’re old enough. I know your daddy isn’t around, so I thought I’d do it for you.”

Anger clouded her son’s face and he growled, “You’re not my father.”

Carl’s face twisted into a familiar scowl and Olivia acted. Darting forward, she grabbed Dom’s arm and said, “That was very rude! Tell Uncle Carl thank-you.”

“No!” Dominic barked, pulling against her grip. “He’s not my father! I want a pocket knife from Daddy!”

“You’re in so much trouble, young man,” Olivia snapped, but in truth, she was filled with fear for her son. He was drawing Carl’s wrath, and in a second her fears were confirmed. Carl slapped the boy across the face.

[z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi]

Dominic stared at him in shock, and in that moment of incomprehension, Olivia acted, pulling the boy behind her. “Carl, I can discipline my son,” she said, her voice hard. Fear made her bold and she said, “He loves the knife, and he’ll have a proper thank-you for your tonight.” There would be no tonight. No matter what she had to do, she wouldn’t let Carl within sight of her son ever again, no matter the cost. Last time she had defied Carl, he’d nearly killed Wakiki; now, he’d crossed a line and Olivia would do whatever it took, pay whatever cost required. She’d make other people pay the price, too, so long as Dom was safe.

Carl sat back, his ego soothed. “Tonight, then,” he said, putting his arms along the back of the couch like some decadent lord. Olivia started to leave, but Carl called her back. “I want a kiss before you go.”

“Dom, wait in the car,” Olivia said. “Take the dog with you.” He wasn’t looking at her, and his posture was sullen as he pulled away from her and stalked out the door. God, he looked just like his father.

Carl cleared his throat and Olivia reminded herself that she’d figure out something today; that all she had to do was get through this and get Dom to safety. Then she’d find a way to make him pay. That thought gave her enough of a good mood to smile at him as she leaned down to kiss him. She was unsurprised when he pulled her down into his lap, his fingers digging painfully into her arm. His kiss was possessive and made her sick, just as it always did. She tolerated it, knowing that this was the last time she’d have to endure his touch.

“That boy of yours is getting uppity,” Carl said when he finally released her from the kiss.

Olivia clenched her fists. “I’ll speak to him,” she promised.

“Good,” he said. “Boy needs a father, and someone might have to step in if you can’t keep him in check.”

“I can discipline my son,” Olivia said, her voice hot. She wished she’d been able to temper it, but she couldn’t stop the rage in her tone. “I have to go to work. I’m late as it is.”

As she pulled herself up, he said, “I’ll see you tonight, sweetstuff. I’ve been saving some special things for you.”

“Yeah,” Olivia said coldly. “I can’t wait.” She wished she’d had time to get her photographs out, but there wasn’t time. She had a thought and hurried into her den, grabbing her laptop. She’d had some of her newer pictures scanned, mostly ones of Dominic. Those were what she really wanted anyway. While she was there, she grabbed one of the copies of Vinny’s picture; it wasn’t Dominic’s favorite one, but if Carl tried to strike at her through her memories, he’d still have one picture of his father.

She hurried back through the living room, finding Carl flipping through channels. She ignored his waved good-bye, her body tensing at that defiance. Thankfully, he chose to let it go, though she would have paid for it later. As she closed the door, Olivia felt herself relax, a little. He was less likely to attack her out here, in the open.

She hurried into the car, stuffing her laptop into its carrier. The wretched pocketknife had been dropped on the sidewalk, and Olivia picked it up, mostly to keep it from littering her front walkway. She dumped it into her laptop bag, intent on throwing it away later.

The ride to Dominic’s school was quiet. The red mark on his face remained a constant reminder of what had passed. Olivia mulled over what to say; how to explain the wrenching changes he’d be facing. She wanted to provide stability, but she had been fooling herself. Safety first, then stability, and the devil be damned. As she pulled up into his parking lot, she started to explain, but her son spoke first.

“You are a bad person,” Dominic said, his voice hard.

Olivia felt as if she’d been stabbed. “What?” she gasped.

“You said Daddy helped good people around the world,” her son stated. Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could see the tears in his eyes. “So if he isn’t here, helping us, it’s because you’re not a good person.”

“Dom, baby, please,” Olivia whispered, her heart breaking. He’d never spoken to her like this before.

“I hate you! You’re the reason Daddy isn’t here!” he barked and jerked open his door, running for the front of his school. Sarge bounded after him through the door he’d left open, the car shaking from the dog’s shifting weight.

Olivia just sat there for a moment, not even responding when Sarge – denied entrance into the school – came back and sat next to her, gazing at her with soulful brown eyes. When another parent honked at her, she startled, feeling tears on her face. Somehow, she gathered her senses enough to lean over and shut the door. Half-blind, she drove to the vet and dropped Sarge off. In a daze, she managed to get to the base without crashing.

She tried to focus on work, but she had to take frequent breaks to cry. She hadn’t been this emotionally messed up since she’d decided to keep Dominic. Her mind couldn’t stop moving – considering how to get rid of Carl and keep her family safe. He wouldn’t stop on his own; she couldn’t buy him off or scare him away. She couldn’t call the cops; Carl would hurt Dom or Wakiki or her brother’s family. Her nephew was only a few weeks old and her stomach knotted at the thought of how tiny and helpless the baby was.

If she told the cops about him, someone she loved would be hurt, or perhaps killed. She knew – that was what had happened last time she’d sought help from the authorities. He’d shattered her knee when she’d had the restraining order slapped on Bill. When she’d told the cops that Carl had assaulted and raped her, her brother had been run off the road. The police never found who was responsible, but Carl had told her that unless she dropped the charges, something worse would happen to Wakiki. Dear god, how she wanted to let someone trained and official take it from her and fix the problem. But Carl had shown her that he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone she loved to punish her. She dreaded what he’d do this time.

As she went outside to take her mid-morning break, she was still mulling over the problem. Around and around her mind went in circles, slowly drawing toward one terrible conclusion. Carl wouldn’t stop so long as he was alive. He would never stop so long as he felt the desire to control her. He’d never stop until he was forced to stop, or she was dead.

So, she had to kill him first.

Olivia began to shake. She didn’t want to do this; she wasn’t a killer. But she didn’t see an option. Relentlessly, her mind continued to think, working out the details she needed to consider. She didn’t want to lose Dominic, so she needed to get away with it. And how would she do it? If it were a matter of shooting him, she could likely do it herself. Point and pull – that was the way guns worked. But getting away with it was much more complicated. Frankly, for all her knowledge and skill, she had no idea how to kill someone.

Olivia knew, intellectually, that she should be horrified by thinking things like this. But all she felt was relief that she’d finally be free of him. For years, he’d terrified, raped and hurt her. He’d earned death, and she wasn’t sure she could ever not feel this kind of hate for him.

She needed help. As much as she hated the answer, she knew one person who likely knew how to murder someone well. And he was the last person on Earth – or the galaxy – she wanted to ask. For the first time in seven years, she needed Vinny. They hadn’t exactly traded contact information after he’d abandoned her for the Air Force Academy.

Olivia felt better as she walked into the building. It was a relief to have a plan, even if she had to deal with someone objectionable to implement it. She called and left a message for Scott Moreno. The PI had found Vinny’s information for her before; likely, he could find him again. Hopefully, he could find him today. The sooner she could get in touch with him, the sooner her family would be safe.

As she finished that illicit personal call on Uncle Sam’s dime, Olivia received an email from her boss. Marv wanted her to go check out some new items from the Antarctica dig. Thankful that it wasn’t about her call, she went to do his bidding so that she could get back to her desk and hopefully hear from Moreno.

She took her laptop with her; like the phone call, having it in the building was a violation of policy, but she’d just decided to commit murder. Breaking a federal law seemed fairly minor in comparison. Mostly, though, she didn’t want to leave it in the car to cook in the summer sun. Likewise, she didn’t want to leave it at her desk to be found by a co-worker; if she had it with her, they’d think it was one of the work machines.

It was her haste to get back to her desk that caused the accident. Olivia was cataloguing the object in question, a softly glowing rectangle. The Ancient artifact reminded her of a door in size and shape, though it was much thicker than a door, about a foot deep. It had a frame that held it upright, the golden metal glowing with blue Ancient script. It was beautiful, but no one knew what it did. According to the email from Marv, she was to catalogue it, which included filming it from all angles and recording its dimensions in the database. It was all standard, something she’d done a hundred times before. Normally, she enjoyed doing this, but today she worked with unusual speed and carelessness, trying to get done. She finished in about half the normal time and probably with about half the quality.

Relieved, she packed the measuring equipment away and uploaded the data to the mainframe. As she swung around to leave, her computer bag shifted, and her weight came down on her bad knee. When she did that, she invariably lost her balance, and this time was no different.

With an oomph, Olivia fell against the Artifact. For a second, she was plastered against the hardened surface; then she felt a wrenching sensation and fell again. Only somewhere along the way, the fall became a throw and Olivia was sent spinning through the air.

She released a pained cry when she bounced off of something solid, hard. A second later, she thumped to the floor and lay there groaning. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, aware that her body was registering vehement complaints and she was freezing. But more frightening for Olivia was the utter blackness she saw when she opened her eyes. The blackness was complete; she blinked to be sure her eyes were open, desperately trying to see anything. “I’m blind,” she whispered, terrified, but as soon as the words left her mouth, the lights came on with a strange noise.

Shivering, she lifted her hand and saw that it was covered in a thin layer of frost. “F-f-f-fuck,” she chattered, letting herself go limp. For a moment, she lay still, aching and frozen. She had to assess what was going on here. She dragged herself upright with shaky arms, pulling on the console she’d been tossed against. She could feel the damage she’d done when she’d hit it, but she couldn’t care about that right now. Her knee was throbbing, and her wrist burned with a steady pain. She could only pray it wasn’t broken – she’d had enough fun with that when her knee had been broken.

She slowly became aware that she couldn’t stay here and hurt. She needed to get up and figure out where she was. Olivia peered around, trying to spot clues to her situation. It looked like the pictures she’d seen of the Antarctica base. “Where on Earth am I?”

Was she even on Earth anymore? “Oh fuck!” she whispered, clambering to her feet and trying to think. Her knee flared with new pain but that was normal for that joint. The wrist bothered her more. First, she needed to explore a little, figure out where she was. If she were on the Antarctica base, she would probably run into someone soon. If she were off-world, she needed to find a StarGate. She’d seen the home address once; she was sure she could remember it if she saw the symbols.

Shivering, Olivia went exploring, moving with a pained limp through the alien halls.