Disclaimer: God, I wish Jack and Daniel were mine! Then they could beat up my boyfriend for making me feel bad enough to write something like this...
A/N: I like Jack and Daniel very much, and normally wouldn't treat them this way, but this short story - written in half an hour an unbetaed - is the result of my own bad relationship. I'm sorry for hurting our lovely boys, but I promise to fix them later.
Warning: DEATHFIC!! Or at least most of the characters believe that one of the characters is dead. You don't have to agree, and I haven't yet decided if I'm going to leave him that way. But don't say I didn't warn you.
Storm
by cestmoi01
No.
No, no, no, no.
No!
Daniel wouldn't believe it. He would. Not. Believe it. It couldn't be true. It absolutely could not be true. He clung to that thought; it could not be true.
But Daniel could hardly think straight, could hardly see straight. He chanted over and over in his head: not true, not true, not true.
He had to get out.
Not true, have to get out, not true, have to get out, not true, get out, not true, get out!
He ran.
He ran past a sea of swirling, grief-filled faces, past comforting hands, past soothing voices. He had to get out, it wasn't true, he wouldn't believe it.
Daniel flung himself, stumbling, outside into the harsh air and the tumbling, wind-driven snowflakes. He sank to his knees, gasping. He would show them. It wasn't true.
Jack would come get him. Jack always made sure that he ate and slept. And was warm. Jack would come get him. He'd show them. It wasn't true, the liars. It wasn't true. They'd see.
He knelt there, shivering, hands tucked into his armpits, as the snow got into his eyes and ears and dampened his hair and made it stick to his forehead and drip down his shirt. He knelt there as the blizzard's raging wind buffeted him about and tried to rip his shirt off.
He was cold and wet and freezing, but that was ok because they were all lying, and Jack would come get him any minute now. He'd wake up, and ask for Daniel, and berate them all for letting him go outside in this weather, and then he'd come and gently pull Daniel up by his elbows and wrap him up in his strong arms and take him inside and they'd have hot chocolate and laugh about how everyone thought he was…
No, he wouldn't even think the word. It wasn't true, he didn't need to think it. They'd see.
A hand softly touched his shoulder, and he squinted up through the blurring snow, but even without his glasses he could tell that the eyes were blue instead of brown and the hair was blond instead of grey and it was Sam instead of –
"Jack," he croaked brokenly. But Sam's eyes filled with sad compassion, and he couldn't look any longer, he couldn't –
"No, no, no. Jack," he cried, shoving Sam's hand away. "Jack!" He stumbled a few more paces before falling to his knees again. Heedless of the wind and the snow and the cold, he rocked himself back and forth, back and forth.
"Jack," he whispered lovingly, "Jack, no…Jack." His voice broke, and he sobbed out the name. "Jack! No, no, no, no! JACK!!" The inhuman cry of grief and pain at a soul being torn in two was not quite lost to the storm.
Jack was dead. And Daniel wished to join him.
A/N: Feedback is love, of which I am in sore need. Let me know what you think!