Good Night, Jack
Rated: PG-13 (language)
Category: Jack/Daniel Friendship, Jack Angst, Episode Tag
Season: Three
Spoilers: Shades of Grey
Summary: Jack POV Vignette, About 2 Weeks Post-Episode
Note: This is only my second story, so please be kind.
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I said it because I had to. I didn't want to. I knew it would hurt him. Hell, I knew it would hurt ME. But, I did what I had to do. Always the dutiful one, that's me. Got to do what's best for humanity and all that. Have to protect everyone else, you know. Even if it hurts me and those close to me. I have a long history of this behavior. You'd think I would learn. Nah. Not Jack O'Neill. Always sacrificing himself to save others or get the job done. Yeah, that's it. So why do I feel so terrible about this? I knew it would hurt, but I wasn't prepared for the level of pain and the confusion that it brought with it.
Ok, so maybe that is a bunch of bullshit. I mean, I did want to say it in a way. A part of me wanted to wipe that smug little grin off Daniel's face, and I did it the best way I knew how. It worked, too. Just a little better than I thought it would.
Why did it have to be DANIEL? Why couldn't Teal'c have confronted me? T can take care of himself. Even if he were upset, he wouldn't show it. Besides, he's a warrior, he would understand after the fact. Just like it had been with Carter. Carter is military. She didn't push the issue. Despite the fact that there are some serious complications underlying my relationship with my 2IC, she would get it. And what I said to Carter wasn't all false. I have been a different person since I met her than I was before. I'm not the same man I used to be. Most of the time I think that's a good thing, but there are times when what they made me do isn't that far off from my own thoughts. Suffice to say that while it would have sucked, it wouldn't have left me in this swirling void of emotion that I am simply not prepared to deal with.
Daniel…when did I start feeling this way about DANIEL? When did I start caring about what he thought of me? How do I even feel about Daniel? I've always been fond of the boy. Yes, boy. I can't help but think of him that way sometimes. I hated the geeky little dork when we first met, but I still had a soft spot for him. I wouldn't have admitted it, but I did. He proved he was more than a bookworm, anyway, even on that first Abydos mission. More things changed slowly over time. I was so proud of my little soldier boy. He was smart enough to decode a million languages, fast enough to save the day, and military enough to blast a hole through a Jaffa warrior or a brick wall. Of course, that last part was compliments of life taking advantage of a soft-spoken gentle soul and turning him into a jaded journeyman, but that's not the point. Always saving the day, that Daniel. I felt like he was the son I had lost in a way, or a long lost brother. A yin to my yang. Every accomplishment of Daniel's was mine. He was part child, part man, and I loved every bit of it. He was my best friend, my teammate…I felt a normal affection for him plus an almost fatherly love. I still accepted the fact that I might lose him at any time, though. That was part of our lives. The big risk. That was out of my control. But hurting him like that myself, just to complete a mission…damn…I thought it was no problem. I thought I had kept him at arm's length well enough that I would be ok. That the walls guarding who I really was were high enough and thick enough that he hadn't made his way inside, even after all we had been through. I was wrong. Big time, earth shatteringly wrong.
The look on Dr. Daniel Jackson's face when I told him our friendship had no foundation tore me up inside like a thousand tiny pieces of shrapnel. I was unprepared for the effect that it would have on me. Sure, I played the stoic bastard. My poker face served me well. A mask of complacency and annoyance covering pain and apology. Never let it be said that I can't lie when I have to. A dubious skill, but it has served me well. I completed the mission, I did my job, and then squared everything away with my team. Yeah, right. Everything back to normal. Everyone understood. The risk of telling them the truth was too high. It was just the way it had to be. Everyone got that. So why do I still feel like Daniel is accusing me every time he looks at me? AND WHY DO I CARE? It's not like I haven't intentionally hurt people before, often with much less reason. Often just because I could. Contrary to popular belief, I am sometimes not a very nice guy. My marriage fell apart because when I hurt, I want to make others hurt, too, and I know how to do just that. So, why am I up here on my roof at this ungodly hour of the night thinking about the pain I caused Daniel freakin' Jackson, for cryin' out loud? Why can't I get his mumbling little acceptances from the gateroom out of my head? Why do I think Carter and Teal'c covered for him on the drawing straws thing? That Daniel made that up on the spot to cover his discomfort at being called out for caring about me? I can't take it anymore, so I get into my truck. I have to do something about this. I'm not sure what, but something.
When I arrive at Daniel's place, I suddenly can't remember why I am here. I don't want to go in. I don't want to knock. I almost leave, but then remember the sleepless nights. I feel so incredibly guilty about this. I have to let him know. So, I knock.
Daniel opens the door with that characteristic 'what's going on' look on his face and is clearly puzzled to see me. Our conversation starts like a thousand others.
"Jack."
"Daniel."
"Jack."
"Daniel."
"Um…Jack? What are you doing here? Everything ok?"
"Oh, just driving around. Thought I'd say hi."
"Jack…it's three o'clock in the morning."
"Oh, is it? I didn't realize."
"Jack, what's going on?"
"Can I come in?"
"Um…yeah…sure."
"Thanks."
We move into the living room and sit down. Daniel looks at me with this expectant look on his face like he knew I was coming all along. Like he knows I have something to say and knows I will say it when I am good and ready. Damn him for always being so bloody smart.
"So…how ya doin'?"
"Well, I was sleeping. Come on, Jack, what's this about?"
"Well…um…ya see…" I fumble around a bit, but don't really say anything. Daniel just sits there, looking at me with that infuriating mixture of patience and expectation that I have seen so many times. Just waiting for the idiot to figure out what he wants to say. Well, excuse the hell out of me. I don't know a gazillion languages and I don't speak like a UN moderator on speed. It takes me a while to talk about shit. Finally, Daniel, as always, stops my ramblings and bails me out. He has long since dropped his head into his hands and is shaking it a little, when suddenly the head comes up, and the face shows just a bit of exasperation and irritation, if not anger.
"JACK."
Huh? What? Oh, right. What I came for. I just look at him. He looks back. We make eye contact and hold it for what seems like forever. I try to put every bit of apology in my soul into my eyes. I try to tell him that I didn't mean it. That the strongest foundations are those that are built with a little conflict. Suddenly but slowly, Daniel gets up and walks over to be beside me, facing away from me. He reaches down, pats my shoulder like I am a small child, then squeezes it in a supportive gesture. His hand lingers for just a moment, and the words he says make everything ok. I finally feel at peace with what I had to do.
"I know. It's ok. Go home. Good night, Jack." He leaves me there to let myself out.
It's the first part that makes everything right with the world. I think he does know. I think we feel the same way, but just can't say anything about it. It's not what grown men do. Well, at least not THIS grown man. For the record, though, I love this man like I have never loved anyone in my life. It's not sexual, and I couldn't put it into words if I tried, but none of that matters. I don't have to. We are ok. 'Good night, Jack.' he said. Indeed. I think this will be the best sleep I have had in a while. Thanks, Spacemonkey.