stargateficrec | This is Not Wartime (by Cofax) (G to M)

Show: SG1
Rec Category: Apocafic
Characters: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, Teal'c, et al
Categories: the stories are a mix of gen, het and multi (Jack/Sam/Daniel)
Warnings: Serious apocafic, so there are many deaths and other tough things to read. The author "chose not to warn".
Author on DW:

cofax7
Author's Website: See the AO3
Link: This Is Not Wartime the series on AO3.
If anyone prefers to read the series as a complete ebook, I compiled it previously and have it in pdf and for kindle, and I could make an epub file as well if preferred. Just message me on DW.
Why This Must Be Read: Earth is invaded by the Goa'uld in a sudden attack, and the members of SG1 are scattered - embattled or enslaved. This is a long series with short fics, snippets, and some very long stories all telling the tale of the aftermath of the invasion, the resistance, and what happens to Earth and to our favourite characters. It's pretty grim in places, but really gripping and well-written. A thoroughly good read if you like apocafic.

[Here's a bit from the end, to reassure you - and Teal'c survives as well. It's not really spoilery as such a lot happens in the series until they get to this point, and it's only very briefly summarized here.]

There's a weight against Sam's back: Daniel leans against her and hooks his fingers into Jack's beltloops. "C'mon, Jack..." His voice rumbles against Sam's neck, and she twitches her ass backwards. Daniel ignores her and tugs on Jack's pants, pulling them all backwards a step.

"Oh, fine," grumbles Jack, and turns the burner off. But the smile he can't hide creases the skin next to his eyes. Sam pulls him around and kisses him there, then slips out of the way for Daniel. She doesn't look back at them as she heads for the bedroom, pulling her sweater over her head as she goes.

This isn't where she thought she'd be now: no rank, no children, no command. Instead she has too many bitter losses, blood on her hands from friends and enemies alike, and a betrayal by her own people she can never overcome. This happiness she clutches to herself, to warm herself against the two of them, is no more than deserved. Jack, whom she found it frighteningly easy to stop calling "sir", and Daniel, alive in spite of all expectations, paid as high a price as she did: higher, maybe, in different ways.

They don't count their scars, but they touch them, in the darkness, so the losses will be remembered.