Title: Without Menaces
Author: Major Clanger
Email: majclanger@aol.com
Category: angst, h/c, epilogue
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Spoilers: Menace (Season 5), Forever in a Day (Season 3) and other various
titchy ones
Season: 5
Rating: PG-13 (language!)
Content: Warning: this is a slash story.
If you don't like the idea of men kissing other men, please turn back now.
(althouh, it's only a wee tiny little bit)
Status: Completed
Summary: Jack and Daniel have to come to terms with the breakdown of their
relationship after what happened at the end of Menace.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and it's
characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. These stories are for
entertainment purposes only, and no money exchanged hands. Really. Honestly. No
copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and
stories are the property of the author. That is me, and I write under the name
of "Major Clanger" for reasons that are unclear, even to me. These stories may
not be posted elsewhere without my consent, although if you really want to, you
could send me an e-mail and ask. After you get the smelling salts under my
nose, I'll probably say "yes".
Author's notes: Thanks to Sazz for the patient beta and her suggestions (all of
which I used), and TinyCoward for her edits and suggestions (again, I used them
all I think). This is my first attempt at a slashfic, so any and all feedback
is welcome.
Without Menaces – by Major Clanger
The worst thing about closing down the mountain, grumbled O'Neill to himself as he stalked in the direction of the commissary, is the food.
Arriving at his destination he surveyed the packed tables and revised his opinion Nope, not the food. The people. Just too many of 'em.
He collected a tray of nondescript food and gave a resigned nod in the general direction of the other occupants of the small table at which he'd found a space. Scowling at the faces surrounding him, in order to pre-empt any attempt at conversation, the colonel looked resignedly at his plate. His hunger won-out over a natural aversion to unidentifiable rations and he started forking the egg-like-substance into his mouth.
One thing a military person learns early on in their career is that when food is there you should eat. Likewise: take any opportunity to sleep, use the bathroom, and smoke (even non-smokers). These life-skills are the most basic of basic training and are ignored at their peril.
Of course an adult lifetime of eating rations ensured a cast-iron stomach and an asbestos coated gullet – Jack allowed a wry, almost sympathetic, smile as the young SFs at his table abandoned a half-eaten meal at the sudden shouted order from a Master Sergeant. The gentle hum of conversation was replaced by an awful screeching sound as the metal tips of a forest of chair legs scraped across the concrete floor, and the stamp of booted feet heading for the exit.
The sudden silence was eerie but not unwelcome. In the week since the replicators had invaded the SGC, Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to finish a meal in silence.
Come to think of it... when was the last time I actually finished a meal anyway?
The week had passed in a blur of fevered activity, for which Jack had been grateful since it had given him no chance to reflect upon the events immediately leading up to the destruction of the techno-bugs. Again he shied away from thinking about it and turned his mind to the stand-down which he expected the General to announce that day.
The door scraped open once more and he turned expectantly towards it, hoping for some further distraction.
Unfortunately his eyes met those of the last person he wanted to see at that moment. Eyes of china blue that were ringed by dark shadows, topped with tired, heavy lids. The eyes blinked furiously, the head withdrew and the door closed with a bang that reverberated in the silence.
Heaving a heavy sigh, not knowing if it was one of relief or not, Jack pushed himself away from the table and, not for the first time that week, thanked the God of Regulations which forbade smoking in the facility – he'd have been back up to two packs a day.
Easily.
One of the commissary staff sidled warily up to the table. He'd had to deliver messages to O'Neill before, and still bore the scars. Admittedly that had been whilst his superior had been under the influence of some strange alien virus or other, but still... who knew what sort of residual effect the replicators might have? And he'd just seen the way that even a member of the Colonel's own team had gone hungry rather than brave the man alone.
The airman made a noise clearing a few plates before speaking. It never paid to appear to be creeping up on someone with the reactions of the Special Ops trained Colonel.
"Ah, Colonel O'Neill, sir?" his voice, he was glad to note, sounded nowhere near as shaky as he felt, "General Hammond wants to see you in his office right away, sir."
O'Neill turned round, "Thanks... um..." he rubbed his eyes and peered at the man's name tag "...Stevens..." recognition dawned "... how's the ... er... you know?"
"Oh... um... healed well, sir," emboldened, he added "the doc says there will be no lasting effects if I stick to the physio schedule..." Stevens scurried away at the answering growl, only venturing back around the serving counter when he heard the door slam.
~oOo~
The General was talking on the red phone when Jack entered. Hammond motioned him to sit, and he sank into the leather visitor's chair. Jack's eyes slid closed of their own accord and it was a struggle for him to open them again. He looked around for something to keep his brain occupied – or else it would go there – and started counting the books on the shelf behind his Commanding Officer.
"I'll keep you apprised of the situation, sir. Yes sir..." the General rolled his eyes "...of course sir, as soon as we have the all clear. You too, sir. Goodbye." The receiver was replaced violently in its cradle.
"Desk pilots!" he muttered under his breath, loudly enough to startle Jack out of his book-counting exercise.
"Excuse me, sir, didn't quite catch that?"
"Nothing... nothing at all," the General leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes, "We're all getting a little stir crazy I think, but we should have cleared the whole facility by 17:00hrs tomorrow. I'm ordering a general stand-down for the weekend – skeleton personnel only."
Jack stood up "Great news sir, I'm getting a little sick of the wallpaper myself."
"Hold on..." Hammond gestured him to sit again.
The colonel sighed. He'd seen Hammond's 'I'm concerned for one of your team' face before.
He ran a quick inventory check. There was nothing wrong with Teal'c – even if there were, there was nothing he or the General, or anyone else for that matter, could do about it.
Carter had been in her element these past few days. Examining and re-examining the blocks that had been delivered to her lab in vast quantities. She'd subjected them to particle bombardment; electrical charges; various types of radiation; immersed them in water, acid and who knows what else. She'd exploded and imploded them. He knew for a fact that she'd had most fun subjecting them to 'the hammer'. No, Major Carter was extremely happy right now. In fact Jack anticipated trouble getting her to leave the complex and take two days off.
Which left Daniel.
Or himself.
Jack had spent the week organising the sweeps that had lead to the recovery of hundreds of thousands of the tiny replicator blocks. He'd overseen the repairs. He'd mucked in as much as he could on the clean-up, knowing full well that as a morale booster, a senior officer doing some of the dirty work was one of the best.
He'd ensured that the designated sleeping areas had been swept first, and made it clear to the section commanders that the off-shift personnel should take every opportunity not only to sleep, but to use the gym and recreation rooms. Using every command skill – and some special ops ones – that he'd ever acquired, he'd kept up the morale and the momentum going. He had to admit to also being in his element as he'd barked orders, and snapped and shouted at everyone except the General.
Which left Daniel.He hadn't even spoken to Daniel in a week. Hell, he'd only ever seen him ducking back through doorways or disappearing rapidly around corners to avoid him.
Shit.
Hammond regarded O'Neill and saw the thoughts flit across his face. You didn't get to the rank of Major General, without learning a thing or two about people – nor indeed the rank of Colonel – he knew that Jack knew what he was about to say, but still it had to be said. The USAF could not yet rely on telepathy as a means of communication.
"How are SG-1 coping with the enforced quarantine?"
"Oh you know. Teal'c lives here anyway, and Carter is happy as a pig in..."
"... clover," supplied his superior with a faint smile.
"Yessir, clover." Jack waved his hand around "I don't think we're any nearer to a solution to the replicator problem than we were a week ago, but I'm sure if there is something to find, she'll dig it out."
"When we're one hundred percent sure that we have all the replicator blocks under containment I'll authorise her examination of the robot."
Hammond had studiously avoided thinking of Reece as a person, but it was difficult. The association between her outward appearance as a very lovely young woman with the mind of a child, and the wanton destruction that the replicators brought, was still a big leap in his mind. It was much easier to think of Reece as an 'it', although he knew that some of the people who had come into contact with her – it he reminded himself – were still having problems.
He wondered, momentarily, if the colonel who had put an end to the menace of the techno-bugs – yet again – was suffering any after effects from, apparently, having killed a girl.
Hammond dragged himself back to the subject at hand.
"And how are you holding up, Colonel?"
"Oh, you know. I'm a military man. I love it here!" he met the General's eye square on. "Sir... I'm fine. As you know we've all got some leave coming up, I'm going to Minnesota. Can't wait... you know, those fish are calling my name."
"What about Dr. Jackson?"
"I don't think they're calling his name."
There was an uncomfortable silence as the General waited it out. He knew from experience that the important bit would be given in a throwaway line.
"You know, sir," the colonel continued. "I haven't seen him much this week. I mean he doesn't do clean-up detail, and with me supervising that for most of the time..." his voice petered out but the sentence carried on in his head "...and I couldn't really face him after doing that, so I didn't look him out... and now I can't talk to him because he keeps running away from me. He hates me. And I don't blame him. I'd hate me after that."
He rubbed a hand across his face and stood up again.
"I'll check-up on him, Sir."
The General kept silent until he was almost through the doorway, "Don't be too hard on him, Jack."
~oOo~
Jack pulled his jacket away from his body, stuck his nose into the opening and inhaled deeply. He made a face. No way was he going to approach Daniel before he'd showered, shaved, changed clothes... he wasn't kidding himself. Not normally one to procrastinate, however uncomfortable or painful the task ahead, what he really needed was time to work out what to say. What was there to be said? He'd seen it in Daniel's face and heard it, not only in the words he'd said, but in his voice too.
Jack had never thought he'd hear Daniel call anyone a son-of-a-bitch, let alone him. Sure he was convinced Daniel had thought of him in those terms more often than not, but for him to actually articulate the thought... Something had happened between them that day, and there was no going back for either of them.
Glad to see the locker room empty – a quick glance at his watch told him why: even working these shifts, not many people took a shower at 4am – Jack quickly stripped off the clothes he'd put on Ack! Two days ago?, grabbed his bag and stepped into the shower. With the temperature as hot as he could take it, he stood with his eyes closed tightly, face-up to the spray, hands braced on either side of the stream of water. After ten minutes of this, he roused himself and washed quickly.
As he dressed again he reflected that the old 'shit, shower and shave' routine, especially when accompanied by fresh clothes, never failed to revive his flagging spirit. Sitting down to lace up his boots, he still didn't have a clearer idea of what he was going to say when he finally managed to pin Daniel down, but he now felt up to the task of the actual pinning, at least. That was progress, he figured. He stood up, closed the locker, gave a huge sigh and pulled himself together for the task in hand.
Now or never, Jack, now or never. His hand had just reached the door handle when he was knocked off balance by it being flung open by someone on the other side.
"Sorry! I didn't ..." The breathless apology was cut short when Daniel realised who it was he had bumped into. He backed into the hallway, with downcast eyes as though he suddenly found the floor extremely fascinating.
Jack righted himself and stepped out of the room.
"It's all yours, I'm done here." But his resolve was gone – half a minute ago he'd wanted to confront Daniel. Now, however, faced with the reality of the fact that the man didn't want to look him in the eye – he chickened. Giving what he hoped was a bland but friendly smile he marched off along the corridor. Not caring about where he was headed, he was worried about the brief glimpse he'd had of the lookay in Daniel's eyes as he realised who he'd just sent flying onto his ass in the locker room.
Panic.
And Contempt.
Contempt with a capital C.
"Crap!" A passing team of four flinched as Jack spat the word at the world in general and himself in particular, but he didn't notice. He was surprised to find himself standing outside Teal'c's quarters, and wondered why his subconscious had taken him there.
He stood awhile, not sure what to do next, thinking about what had just happened with Daniel. That look in his eyes was gnawing away at Jack, and it hurt. Either Daniel had some deep-seated fear of his team leader that he'd kept carefully concealed, or he'd been practising his 'deer in headlights' look in his mirror for fun.
"Shit-fuck-damn!" glad to know that he'd reverted from the introspective back to military type by swearing at his problem, Jack listened carefully at Teal'c's door. There was the faint sound of a television. That was good, Teal'c was awake and not doing that weird Kel-no-reem thing.
Don't knock it until you've tried it, O'Neill he thought oh yes... I have tried it... wasn't that bad I guess.
For the second time within the hour, Jack was surprised by a door opening, apparently under it's own steam in front of him.
"O'Neill" Teal'c's voice boomed around the corridor. "Do you require my assistance?"
"Um... not sure..."
"Come in." It sounded more like an order than a request. Jack complied.
"Um... yeah..." he surveyed the room, the candles were giving off a fierce heat and suddenly Jack felt very warm. He felt the closeness of the room, and the weight of the mountain pressing on top of him – not just Cheyenne mountain, but the mountain that he was beginning to think of as 'that thing with Daniel'. Jack had no idea why he'd come here, he certainly wasn't about to cry on Teal'c's shoulder because a member of his team had stopped talking to him.
Stopped talking to you? Who are you trying to kid... he's avoiding you and who can blame him?"The base will soon return to normal, O'Neill." Again a plain statement of fact rather than a question.
"Yeah... we're all stood down for the weekend," he had an idea "I expect you'd like to get away from here? Why don'cha come to Minnesota with me when we have leave? We're due some after our next mission to that Colona place."
"I do not enjoy fishing, O'Neill. Even if we catch fish."
"Ah."
"I have already spoken of this matter with General Hammond. I will visit my son and my wife."
"Of course."
O'Neill nodded Wish I could too, big fella. He spoke aloud and his voice, when it came out, was steadier than he thought it would be after a thought like that. "Soooooo... seen much of Carter and Daniel this week?"
"I have assisted Major Carter several times in her experiments this week. She needed my weapon."
Jack coughed. He could have sworn he saw a mischievous glint in the Jaffa's eye.
"You've been watching too much Jay Leno."
"Indeed. I find him most amusing."
"Well... it's all a matter of taste. I prefer Johnny Carson myself," Jack decided to take the bull by the horns. "What about Daniel? Have you seen him?"
"He has eluded me."
"Were you looking for him?" Jack was faintly surprised. Daniel and Teal'c's relationship wasn't what he'd have described as 'buddies' but then – there was no accounting for Daniel sometimes. After all, he wouldn't have thought he and Daniel would get on as well as they did if he'd been looking in from the outside.
"Major Carter thought he would prefer talk to another male."
"She tried talking to him?"
An affirmative eyebrow arched itself.
"And...?"
"Major Carter had no success. They ate together, but he said nothing. After that she had no more contact with him."
Jack sighed. Daniel was in full avoidance mode. "And when you spoke to him?"
"As I said, he eluded me. I have had no conversation with DanielJackson this week."
"Okay. Well... if you see him... um... tell him I really need to talk to him... about... er... next week's missions."
"Very well. If I see him."
Jack left Teal'c to his television and thoughts of his family. He stood in the corridor for a minute or two wondering what to do next, then turned towards his office. He was no nearer to working out how to approach Daniel so, ever the military man, he decided to go to ground and regroup.
As the elevator approached the levels where the offices and other facilities not directly related to the Stargate itself, were located, he decided to check on the troops. It was shift-change and the hallways were full of tired-looking search parties both going-on and coming-off shift. He made a few encouraging remarks here and there, but his general demeanour didn't invite idle conversation and, having checked the sleeping quarters and rec room, he made his way quickly to his sanctuary.
There were a few notes on his desk to call various people, one of which, written in an angry red ink, demanded that he report to the infirmary at his earliest convenience. He turned the note over and over in his hand. Although he was no graphologist he spotted the angry undertone to the bare-bones message which coupled with the bossy writing style, left him in no doubt that it was an order. The terse sentence had been written on half a page of a legal pad, which had been torn off untidily across the middle. He held it up to the light.
There was a small tear in one of the downward strokes, and a quick flick through the pad showed the indentations of the message on at least the next four pages. He put it on top of a similar pile of notes and looked at them for a while, before pushing them all off the desk into his conveniently placed trash can.
The phone rang.
Caller ID is a wonderful thing, thought the colonel as he saw the incoming call from the control room. Deciding that now would be as good a time as any, he ignored it and hurried off to the infirmary.
~oOo~
Daniel sat on the bench and removed his boots. One was lying on the floor, on its side with laces trailing in a fashion that would have annoyed a certain Air Force Colonel if he'd been there to see it. That thought flicked through Daniel's mind, and he sighed.
Dropping the second boot somewhere near the first, he unconsciously decided that he didn't give a flying fuck what anally retentive, Mr. Tidy-Boots thought, and started to undress. He started with the sling, which supported a severely sprained wrist. Grateful that it wasn't broken and in a cast, effectively barring him from taking a shower, he unwrapped the bandage and winced when he saw the still livid bruising underneath.
Prodding the wrist gave pain but some satisfaction too, since it took his mind off what he had started to call 'that thing with Jack'. Every day, though, the pain in his arm grew less, so the opportunity to think of.... "no don't go there..." he admonished himself, and fumbled one-handed with the buttons of his jacket. Yet again he cursed himself for his injury, if he had only held out a little longer with his attempt to calm Reece she wouldn't have lashed out at him. He was sure she hadn't meant to hurt him...
Down to his boxers now, he sat on the bench again, head resting on his good arm and tried to block the flood of emotions. After 15 minutes, he started to feel cold so he finished undressing and stepped into the shower stall.
The water always took a while to warm up, but he didn't give his customary flinch as the icy spray bounced onto this skin. Unconsciously mimicking Jack, he stood face up with his eyes tightly closed and his forearms braced against the shower wall. The water warmed and became uncomfortably hot before Daniel remembered where he was and began to wash.
After the warm steam of the shower, the locker room felt cold, so he hurriedly dried and dressed and almost ran back to his office. To him this room was the only place where he felt he could relax, somewhere he could take refuge in his books and keep the rest of the world at bay.
Daniel felt slightly guilty that he'd not been of much help during the clean-up campaign – his injury didn't allow him to do much – but only slightly guilty. He was more relieved that he didn't have to see much of Jack. Those times he had been about to encounter the Colonel he'd ducked and run like a frightened deer – which he was sure hadn't earned him any points with Jack.
The simple fact was that he just couldn't face him. Not yet. It would take time, and Daniel knew that time was something that he was rapidly running out of. Five years of working with the military had taught him that after a sustained period of activity a stand-down would be ordered. He wondered if he could avoid Jack until after their mission to Colona.
Better still, he'd heard that SG-9 were on P2A-018 where there was a defence system that the Goa'uld couldn't penetrate. Perhaps he could get a secondment to them.
He looked at his empty mug. The coffee machine was at the end of the corridor and much as he wanted a cup, he didn't want to encounter anyone.
Especially Jack.
Daniel stood by his desk and looked around. He was very tired, but didn't want to sleep because that would just bring the night-terrors back. His eye fell on a note written in a familiar scribble, which he immediately screwed up and tossed in the trash can.
No way.
He'd seen enough of the infirmary last week, what with the blow to his head and injured arm.
Nope. He'd just sit here and catch up on his reading – there was a huge pile of magazines that he'd put by to read 'when he had time'. He settled down in his chair and plucked the top magazine off the, admittedly huge pile and settled back to read.
Within minutes he'd nodded of, without even getting past the editorial page.
Within minutes he was dreaming.
Daniel knew that he was dreaming, but he'd avoided sleep for so long he was too tired and unable to wake himself. He vainly fought the images that presented themselves. He knew that he was dreaming, and still he was horrified and shocked at the images...
He lay on his side in a tent, beside him Sha're lay dead, her hair spread around her head in soft brown curls, her brown eyes open but unseeing. Slowly stretching out his hand he touched her. She felt cold, not warm and soft like the living, breathing woman he'd loved so much. Daniel dragged himself closer to her, to inhale her scent for one last time. He closed his eyes and tried to make himself believe that everything was as it should be, and that come morning, they would wake up together to face another day. Instead he heard voices. It seemed as though they were coming from a great distance. They were laughing and wouldn't let him sleep. Holding up his arms as if to fend them off, he looked again at the body of his wife. The bullet holes in her chest were black circles edged with her blood. The laughter grew louder and more insistent, he tried to ignore them but they were getting louder and louder.
Daniel tried to shout at them to go away, but no sound came out. they pointed at him and laughed harder and louder. his eyes focused on the laughing men: Teal'c and Jack – Teal'c holding his staff weapon ramrod straight, but Jack holding his deadly P90. Pointing it at Daniel. He looked back at his beloved, but instead of Sha're, he found himself looking at Reece, her eyes accusing him of betrayal. Blinking back tears, he tried to call to her, that he didn't hate her, that he wanted her to live, but no sound came, and as his eyes cleared again he saw his wife's eyes, vacant. Staring at nothing.
Jack was shouting at him, his words were indistinct, and with tears streaming down his face Daniel shouted back, his mouth silently forming the words "you stupid son-of-a-bitch you killed them both!" He knew he was still dreaming but he couldn't wake himself. Finally he could move and flailed at his wife's killer and somehow one of his blows connected...
...a sharp pain in his arm brought Daniel jerking back to become aware of his surroundings. Janet was holding him firmly by the shoulders, as one of the medics tried to still his feet. Shouting incoherently and fighting, as if for his life, it slowly dawned on Daniel that they were trying to help.
"Come on, Daniel, it's me Dr. Frasier." She was holding his head now, hands on either side of his face trying to look into his eyes.
He squeezed them shut – he had no idea if he'd been shouting or not, he suspected he had – and he didn't want to see the pity that the Doctor's professional demeanor never quite managed to hide. He wondered idly if she had the same compassion for all her patients.
"C'mon, let's get you down to the infirmary."
Janet barked a command and Daniel was manhandled onto a stretcher. He realised with surprise that he had been on the floor, wedged between the bookshelf and the corner. His head hurt. Correction, his head hurt more than it had that morning, which meant that he'd probably hit it again.
Groaning, he closed his eyes and covered them with his good arm. He was beyond caring what people would think when they saw him being carried to the infirmary again, but he sure as hell didn't have to see their faces as he was taken by. He knew what he'd see written on those faces: contempt. Contempt for the man who'd tried to save the robot who'd tried to kill them all with its toys. He just hoped that they didn't bump into Jack in one of the hallways or elevators, although for the life of him he couldn't think why that should bother him so much. After all, as far as Jack was concerned he was the lowest of the low. The stupid civilian who'd nearly gotten them all killed again…
He started thrashing wildly about and only dimly registered the shouts of the medical staff. Feeling a prick in his arm he welcomed the soft blackness. His last conscious wish was that he would never have to wake up.
~oOo~
Having given his customary grumbles at being poked and prodded by a medic, O'Neill sat on a bed and waited for the man to finish fiddling around with the BP cuff. He looked idly around as he felt his arm being squeezed as the cuff was inflated and the cold stethoscope pressed against his inner arm. He felt rather than saw or heard the tramp of feet and the slamming open of the infirmary door, and turned instinctively at the sound.
Struggling free of the cuff, and ignoring the protest of the medic, he scrambled over to the gurney where the stretcher had been deposited. Janet was giving quiet instructions to the nurses who were setting up unidentifiable – to Jack at least – machines and monitors.
Finally the crowd of people around the supine figure on the stretcher moved away and Jack's heart sank as his suspicion of who the casualty might be was confirmed.
Typical – Daniel's fallen over something again... Jack dismissed his first impatient angry thought recognising it for what it was – anxiety for his friend. It was a feeling comparable to those he'd had when Charlie had hurt himself as a small child, and he knew it came from the relief that as long as he was still breathing, the accident, whatever it was, hadn't been fatal.
Yet.
"Colonel?" the medic he'd just shaken off approached Jack clutching the blood pressure cuff.
"Uh?" the answering growl made the man stop just out of arm's reach.
"Sir, I have to finish this, or Dr. Frasier will have my balls," Jack looked at the young man with sympathy, but didn't move. "Look, Sir, I know Dr. Jackson is on your team... Why not let them settle him in, and then you can see how he's doing?"
Jack looked at the activity around Daniel, who was now sitting up on the bed like a compliant child having his t-shirt removed by one of the nurses. Another of the medical staff was preparing what looked like electrodes, while yet another was removing the patient's boots and pants. She looked up and met O'Neill's eye, then stopped what she was doing, gave him a half-smile, walked around the bed and drew the curtain.
Her head reappeared "Colonel O'Neill, sir! You can come and see him when you're done with your check up. Leave him to us, he's in good hands you know."
O'Neill nodded resignedly and went back to his own examination.
"Blood pressure – normal... well, normal for you sir, it's a little on the low side." The medic wrote something on his board. "Okay, so last thing now, I'm just going to draw some blood. We'll need a urine sample too, but that has to be given first thing in the morning, so if you could take a sample bottle and bring it back tomorrow?"
Jack grunted his assent, and looked away as the needle slowly entered his vein. Hard-boiled he may be, but needles and arms didn't go together in his book. Craning his neck round he tried to see what was happening to Daniel behind him, but the curtain was still drawn. He could, however, hear a few reassuring bleeps, and was glad to see the nurses exit swiftly followed by Janet. The nurses stopped at the end of the bed where Jack was pinned down by a needle, like a butterfly in a display case. One of them spoke:
"When shall we three meet again, in Thunder, Lightning or in Rain?" They dissolved into giggles and walked off, safe in the knowledge that the colonel couldn't follow.
The Chief Medical Officer came up and looked down at his arm.
"Glad to see it's the right colour now, Colonel."
"That was ages ago." Jack gave a theatrical sigh.
"Tell that to Stevens... he's going to have those scars..."
Jack interrupted her, "Never mind him, he looked fine to me last night. How's Daniel?"
The doctor frowned a little and then decided to be straight with O'Neill. "To be honest he's giving me cause for concern. As you know I wanted to give everyone a check up..." she glared at Jack's even more exaggerated sigh "... just to be sure that everyone and everything is okay before General Hammond gives the stand down order. I know you think we're a load of blood-sucking vampires..."
"Witches," he corrected.
The doctor ignored him and carried on speaking, "...I mean, it might come as a big shock to you, but I have a life outside here and getting called back half an hour after I've collapsed in a heap in front of the tv is no fun!" Janet shifted from foot to foot, a little uneasy after the uncustomary long speech.
"um... hang on a sec there Doc..." he turned to the medic. "Hey! How much are you taking out? That's nearly an armful there!"
"It's okay," the Doctor waved the man off. "I'll finish up here."
She turned back to her patient. "As I was saying... I just wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any problem letting everyone home. Daniel has two injuries that, while not life threatening, needed checking. Anyway, he has stitches that need to be removed."
Jack nodded.
Janet carefully wrote on some sticky labels and attached them to the small vials of blood. She looked around impatiently and putting the pen between her teeth transferred the samples into a Ziploc bag. Peering at the small puncture hole in O'Neill's arm she shook her head. "You're a real bleeder alright" She gave him a small wad of cotton wool. "Here old this on that until the bleeding has stopped."
"What? No Mickey Mouse band-aid?" He stuck his lip out like a small child and was rewarded with a slap on the hand.
The pen was replaced carefully in her pocket and Janet fiddled nervously with her stethoscope. Half-turning away from him the doctor straightened the already straight instruments on the tray, took her stethoscope from her pocket and hung it round her neck. She gripped the ends of it tightly before turning and speaking again. Jack patiently waited her out.
"I saw him a few times, around the place," she waved her arm vaguely to indicate the whole complex, "and told him, and e-mailed him to come in for the stitches. I left him notes and phoned too..."
"And he never showed up, right?"
"Right."
"So... you're telling me this because...?" Jack raised his eyebrows.
"Because you're his team leader... and his best friend. Although God only knows why the way you two carry on sometimes."
"Hey! It's not that bad."
"No, it's worse. Honestly, Cassie and her friends behave better than you two! You're worse than a pair of adolescent boys!"
"Are not!"
"Are too!" She grinned at him briefly. "Anyway, then I tried to contact you. But you've been Colonel Busy-Boots this week... although I did leave several notes," the accusatory glare bored into him.
Jack had the grace to look shamefaced as he remembered the pile of paper that he'd swept from his desk earlier that morning.
"Look, I don't want to talk about this here, come into my office." The doctor turned abruptly and left the colonel sitting on the bed staring at his hands.
"Uh.. yeah. Right with you... just as soon as I get dressed..."
~oOo~
The familiar whirring of mechanical wings made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Hundreds of tiny metallic feet tapped as they manoeuvered their bodies so that hundreds of metallic bugs could stare at him in their strange way. He tried to suppress the terror and revulsion he was feeling as he held out his hand towards her and mumbled words without knowing what he was saying. He knew that he was offering sanctuary. Telling her that she was trusted. She gave him a dazzling smile then carefully walked down the ramp towards him, looking at her feet so as not to tread on her toys. After an endless walk she reached the foot of the ramp. She held out her arms and drew him towards her. In slow motion she turned up her face to him with eyes closed for his kiss. Long, slow and deep, he was lost in her. He smiled into the kiss, as long as they were together everything was well with the world.
He released her unwillingly as she pulled away and smiled up at him. Opening her eyes wide as they glowed yellow she pushed him away. He staggered back and lost his footing among the replicators swarming around him. Swarming all over his body. He could feel their sharp metal feet cutting through his clothes, nicking his skin in painful reminder that they were the most deadly threat to the Universe and not harmless little toys.
He looked up transfixed as Ammonet spoke through his wife. "You will serve us." He struggled up as far as his knees before she raised her hand. Face twisted in contempt for the weak human before her. He felt his brain turn to molten lead as the hand-device worked its terrible way into his head.
"Nooooooooooooooo!" the scream was painful in his throat – but now the bugs had him pinned to the ground. They were bigger and stronger now, he felt one of them dig its foot into his arm and the welcome velvet of blackness came to claim him once again...
~oOo~
"So, doc, how long has he been having the nightmares?" Jack's attempt at sounding flip didn't fool her at all.
"All week, as far as anyone can tell. At first he was rather... shall we say elusive... but my medical staff have been around the facility a lot, we did most of the check-ups on site. Nobody has reported seeing him sleep in the gym with the rest, but then, most of us with offices have been using them to sleep in."
"You mean, you think..."
"Yep."
"So now he's hallucinating?"
"Kind of... when we found him he'd fallen off his chair and didn't have a clue where he was." The Doctor massaged the back of her neck. "I mean… we're all finding it difficult, but he seems to have a fear of sleeping."
"He's always suffered an overactive imagination… I wouldn't want his nightmares," Jack looked like a protective father when he talked about Daniel like that, thought the doctor, not for the first time.
"Still, now we have him here I can get a good look at him, maybe keep him slightly sedated for the night… give his body a chance to recuperate."
"Oh sure... he'll love that!"
"Got any better suggestions?"
"Um…"
"Exactly," Janet gave him a curt nod and looked at her watch. "Okay, I'm all finished here for now, and I have a load more work to do. Excuse me."
Jack watched thoughtfully as she walked off and then wandered back out into the infirmary. He was still standing there a few minutes later when the nurse Jack had begun to think of as 'nurse Shakespeare' came back into the room. She disappeared behind Daniel's curtain, but stuck her head back out again almost immediately.
Jack immediately struck a theatrical pose, and boomed in an atrocious attempt at an English accent "Speak if you can, what are you?"
The nurse blushed. "Sorry, Sir. Couldn't resist…" she shook her head "… anyway, what I wanted to say is that he's waking up. Do you want to see him?"
Not really… Jack took a step closer to the curtained off area. "Uh… I guess…"
A small groan caused the nurse to duck back through the gap in the curtains, followed reluctantly by the Colonel.
"Wha' happened?" Daniel croaked.
"Shhh. Wait. Drink something first." The nurse held out a glass of water and gently placed the straw between his lips. "Better now?"
"Not really."
"Well, the grogginess will wear off soon." She put the glass back on the nightstand. "Look, you've got your first visitor."
A shout from beyond the small enclosure sent 'nurse Shakespeare' running out leaving Jack and Daniel looking anywhere but at each other in an uncomfortable silence.
The silence yawned between them until it became unbearable. Their eyes met. The blue full of pain, sadness and longing. The brown equally full of sadness and longing, but also with a spark of hope.
A spark which was slapped down, as soon as the man on the bed spoke to him for the first time in a week (Jack didn't count their meeting in the locker room earlier).
"Go away."
"Daniel... I..."
"Get out of here! I don't want..."
"No," he was emphatic. "I'm staying."
Daniel closed his eyes in reply. Jack was shocked to see how pale Daniel was, how when he exhaled he seemed to sink into the bed as if in an attempt to disappear. Jack stood by the bed for a while, looking at the man lying still and quiet and felt a flood of tired sadness.
"Jack. Please. Just go." Daniel's voice barely rose above a whisper, but quiet though it was, Jack didn't miss the tremble in it.
How the fuck did it get to this? He didn't want to leave, but he knew that Daniel wouldn't truly rest until he'd gone. His shoulders drooped as he took a last look at the body on the bed – 'body' Jack gave an involuntary shudder as that word repeated itself over and over in his mind. The temptation to bend and kiss the forehead and smooth the sheet was strong but he managed to resist and left the infirmary without saying another word.
~oOo~
Daniel lay still until he heard the door slam. He fought the urge to cry himself to sleep by reciting the names of the pharaohs in alphabetical order, something he'd learned to do a long time ago. Getting half-way through the list he was momentarily distracted by a commotion outside his curtained area. This was enough to open him up to the flood of conflicting emotions.
He knew that Jack had done the right thing in shooting Reece, but it had deeply shocked Daniel to see how calmly Jack dealt with shooting what was, in effect, a child. True she had the outward appearance of a teenager, but she displayed all the emotional maturity of a five year old.
The ease with which he'd stepped through the doorway, P90 already up and firing before Daniel had had a chance to say anything had shown him a side of his CO that he hadn't often seen. A wave of grief swept over him as he recalled the shock in Reece's eyes as she realised that she was going to die. Even as he thought this, Daniel knew that he was being emotional and irrational. Reece was a machine, and maybe it had been a mistake – his mistake – not to make that clear to her from the start.
Who are you kidding, it would have made it clear for you... but in that moment, the moment of her death it had been Sha're all over again. Definitely not going there... but he was going there: it was like sticking your tongue into a tooth when a filling had fallen out, or picking a scab - irresistible.
How could he do that to me... again? the question was unfair and self pitying, and Daniel knew it, but now he was going down that path he couldn't stop, and he knew that he'd worry at this as though it were some archaeological puzzle until he was satisfied he had the right answer. He mentally drew himself together to face it and delved into his memories again.
Jack had killed Reece, who was no more than a child.
Why?
To save the earth. Obviously saving the planet wasn't getting old, that had to be a good thing, right?
Jack had killed Reece, who was no more than a child playing with her toys.
Toys?
Okay, admittedly, she wouldn't have been able to keep control of them for long – unless she no longer felt threatened by the members of the SGC. Well, that was easy... Daniel had started to regain her trust very quickly... Oh God! Further evidence of her childlike behaviour, she'd trusted him too quickly. Don't go there... don't go there... don't go there... he pulled himself together.
Jack had killed Reece, who was no more than a child playing with her toys, who was shutting them down for Daniel.
Was she?
Daniel was still convinced that she – he tried, but to him she wasn't an it, she was a girl, a child – was shutting down her toys. Because she trusted him. And he'd betrayed her trust and gotten her killed.
He had betrayed her trust.
He. Daniel.
He'd let her down. Let someone down.
Again.
He'd as good as killed her.
No!Yes.
Jack didn't trust him, and had gone in intending to put an end to it. Had been deadly in his decisiveness. But Daniel had seen the look on Jack's face as he'd let rip with the weapon. He'd been horrified. He was looking at the machine that had invented the replicators: the biggest threat to mankind, even worse than the Goa'uld.
He was looking at the machine that could destroy mankind, however unintentional, and he'd been surrounded by the techno-bugs that had only seconds before been trying to kill him. And he was horrified.
Horrified that Daniel was making nice with her... it. And he'd killed her without a second thought.
What was it Jack had said... Oh yes.
'Heck I don't like most of what you say but I try to resist the temptation to push you through walls.'
It was blindingly obvious, and not for the first time, that Jack didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. Nobody did.
Maybe there was something he was missing, but it eluded him. Unlike sleep which chose that moment to sneak up behind him and throw her cloak over his head.
They were walking towards the door hand in hand. The bugs skittering behind them like so many ants protecting their queen. He put his arm around her waist and stopped her to stroke her stomach. Rounded with their child. He pulled her protectively towards him as the door burst open and Jack let rip with his P90. Bullets spraying indiscriminately around the room. He couldn't move, his body wasn't obeying his command to throw himself in front of his wife and unborn child. He could only watch helplessly as bullets ripped into her and robbed him of his wife and son. She fell backwards, eyes wide and frightened and he looked on helplessly as she landed dead on the floor. His brain faintly registered that there was no blood. Merely a neat line of black puncture marks across her chest. There was a click as the machine-gun had no more of its deadly projectiles to fire and finally Daniel was able to crouch, weeping, over Reece while all around him the replicators were reduced to small harmless piles.
Jack had tears of laughter streaming down his face. Or did he? He walked over to Daniel who tried to speak, but his mouth refused to form the words and no sound came out. He looked at Jack's face and saw the horror at what he'd just seen and done. He spoke "this is the way it had to go down, and you know it."
And finally Daniel knew.
"Sorry Jack! Sorry Jack!! Sorry ... oh God!"
~oOo~
The woman rapped loudly on the door for the third time, and waited.
No reply.
She banged harder with the ball of her fist and shouted and was finally rewarded with a shout. 'Nurse Shakespeare' waited, but when the door didn't open a minute after she'd heard the voice within, she opened the door and called into the blackness.
"Colonel O'Neill... Colonel! Wake up!"
"I am awake," the answering growl reminded her of a cartoon she'd seen of a bear being woken in the middle of the hibernation season.
"Could have fooled me," she grumbled under her breath.
"I'm not deaf just because the lights are off." A hand came from nowhere and pulled her into the office by her wrist.
"Um, any chance of some light, Sir?" Her heart was thumping, it was more than a little thrilling to be dragged into a dark room by Colonel O'Neill. This will be something to tell the girls, she thought.
There was a click and the strip lights hummed into action.
"So," he stood in front of her rubbing sleep out of his eyes like a little boy. "Where's the fire?"
The image of the man she always thought of as 'Grumpy' standing there rubbing sleep out of his eyes like a seven-year-old temporarily threw her and she said nothing, just gave him a blank stare.
"Hey!" He clicked her fingers in front of her face. "You Okay?"
"Oh," she shook her head, "sorry, I guess it's getting to me... um... Dan... I mean, Doctor Jackson is awake and asking for you."
"So?" he shrugged.
"He's very insistent."
"I'm busy."
"He said 'please'..." She stopped talking as the full power of the brown eyes bored into her.
"Did he. Glad to see a blow to the head hasn't affected his manners."
"So, you'll come with me then?"
"Nope."
"I'll tell him he'll have to do without the pleasure of your company then," she spun round and made as if to leave, "of course, then he won't be able to apologise..." she left the room.
To be was stopped in her tracks by a hand clapping itself down on her shoulder and half-dragging her back into the room.
"What did you say?" somehow 'nurse Shakespeare' managed to translate the growl into something closely resembling the English language.
"Nothing really... it's just that he's been jabbering away in his sleep – over and over – just 'sorry Jack sorry Jack sorry Jack' and ..." she stopped abruptly. "Anyway, we think it would be a good idea for you to come and see him."
"Well... if you remember he didn't welcome me with open arms last time."
"No... but... Oh, I don't know... this time he's... look, just come and see for yourself," she grinned. "Pretty please?"
"How can I refuse?" he was halfway out of the door when she called him back.
"Sir!"
"What?"
"Boots?"
"Ah."
~oOo~
"So?" Jack leaned against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He'd seen 'defensive Daniel' often enough to know that if he folded his arms over his chest, it would look as though Jack needed to protect himself against his friend.
"Um… I'm not sure why they called you down here," Daniel lookayed a little better, still pale and tired, but not as defeated as he'd been the last time Jack saw him, "I mean… well…" he gave an embarrassed cough and shrugged.
"Nightmares, huh? Were they about me?"
"What?"
"You were calling my name," Jack tried to sound as if he wasn't really interested. "Must've been awful. I mean, it's bad enough spending nearly every waking moment with me, right?" He couldn't keep a shade of bitterness out of his voice.
"Oh. That. I'm sorry, I didn't know that I was calling for you."
"Look, I came down to say that Dr. Doom over there won't sign your release forms if you insist on going back to your place. Alone."
"Why? I'm fine."
He looked a lot less than fine, but Jack wasn't about to say it as plainly as that. "Well… why not come over to my place, it's big enough, you've been there before. I mean it doesn't suck…"
"No. I'm going home."
"Well… that sounded final." He pushed himself away from the wall. "See you when I get back."
"Yeah."
"Don't annoy the nurses."
"I'll be at home."
Dr. Frasier came over and looked at his chart. "Nope. You'll be right there, or you'll be at the Colonel's house."
"I'm not…"
"Yes you are. You haven't slept or eaten properly in a week. You have a head injury that we had to re-stitch. You can't drive with that arm and you need some time away from here, and not alone. It's either Chez O'Neill or …" she waved her arm around and indicated the gloomy infirmary.
"No."
"Okay, well, I'm off then. See you next week." Jack gave Daniel a sloppy salute and held the door open for the doctor. They stopped a little way along the corridor.
"Colonel O'Neill. I'm going to agree that he can leave the infirmary, but if I find out that he was at home, alone…" she didn't need to finish off the dire threat.
"I'll work on him, I've got a few things to finish up, which will give him time to consider his options. By the time I get back he'll be begging me to bust him out of there."
"I'm not sure I like what you're insinuating, Colonel," but her eyes were twinkling. "Whatever it is between you two, you had better sort it out, or else I'll have to ask Dr.MacKenzie for a …"
"Bye Doc!"
~oOo~
Jack fumbled with his keys, and dropped them twice before he managed to get his front door open. He dumped an armful of mail – mostly junk – on the table and threw his bag in the general direction of the hallway.
"Come on, Danny, I'll show you where to put your stuff," a redundant offer since Daniel had lived there before, but the silence was making him uncomfortable.
"Uh."
Daniel hadn't said more than three words to Jack, apart from the 'get me out of here' a few hours after Doctor Frasier had given her ultimatum. He tossed his bag onto the chair in the spare room, and sat on the bed to take off his shoes. Hanging his jacket on the back of the chair he looked over at Jack, who was stood in the doorway.
"Tired," he said, stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes.
"Okay, want me to call you for some food later?"
"Uh-uh."
"I'll take that as a yes" Silence was the only answer so he pulled the door to and left Daniel to it.
He didn't really know what to do with himself. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to bring Daniel home and try to talk to him, but he now had an awful feeling that it was only going to make things worse.
He clicked through a few channels and found some improbable science fiction show and settled down on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table. He usually laughed at this one, but even the Big Giant Head – who he recognised from somewhere – couldn't raise a smile this time.
~oOo~
Charlie was sat in his room building a small robot out of Lego bricks. Jack walked in and ruffled his hair, and felt the swell in his heart as the child looked up at him with shining eyes. "Look what I made for you Dad!" He held out the toy and the robot whirred and clicked and walked slowly and deliberately up Jack's sleeve. Fascinated by its delicate construction, and proud that his son had made such a clever toy, he didn't notice the rest of the toys swarming around his son.
Sara's voice came up from the kitchen "scrub up you two, dinner's almost ready." Jack looked down at Reece, sitting cross legged on the floor, bending her head over something. He couldn't make out what it was, with the bugs crawling all over it. At a command from Charlie they dissipated and Jack saw what remained of Daniel. Most of his body now constructed of the small metal blocks. Only the face and hands still human looking. Reece stood up and smiled a slow smile that was bone-meltingly evil and innocent at the same time. She held out her hand in invitation, but Jack's instincts were telling him to run away. He stared wildly around him and finally found what he was looking for, a moment later he'd unhooked the P90 from the wall, pulled the trigger and let rip into the child before him. Charlie's eyes widened in surprise and his mouth was wide open as if to scream but making no sound. Jack closed his eyes as the bullets tore through her body and Reece fell to the ground next to Daniel, and he screamed "Daniel! Get away from her. No no no no! Noooooo!"
As he surfaced from the nightmare Jack was aware that there was someone bending over him in the semi-darkness. He tensed and gripped the person around the upper arms, and struggled into a sitting position.
"Watch the arm, Jack!"
"Daniel?"
"Who were you expecting?"
It was almost like old times, but only almost. Daniel pulled away and spoke again.
"You were shouting."
"Oh, sorry. I woke you?"
"No," he turned to leave.
"Wait," Jack grabbed his good arm, "…erm… you… ah… hungry?"
"Uh."
"Okay – gimme a hand then, there must be something edible in the kitchen."
Daniel hesitated but followed as Jack left the room. There was something comforting about eating in the middle of the night. "Triumph of hope over experience..." he mumbled.
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
Jack rummaged around in the fridge and made two piles: food that could be eaten and food that was likely to have evolved teeth of its own. The latter pile was way larger than the former. He gave Daniel, who had busied himself making coffee, a few sneaky glances, and saw that he still looked dog tired – even more so than he had at the SGC. He was pretty sure he hadn't been asleep while Jack had been having nightmares.
"So.... we have... um..." He poked a block of cheese that was only slightly mouldy on the outside "a small amount of cheese, some crackers..." Jack bit into one and it dissolved on his tongue "...okay, a small amount of cheese."
"Not really hungry anyway."
"Here, we can share this," Jack had pared the cheese down to two small cubes, one of which he held out to Daniel.
"Thanks." He held out a mug of coffee. "Take this... sorry, black."
They stood in the kitchen drinking their coffee, neither wanting to be there but neither wanting to go to sleep. It was both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.
Jack leaned back against the counter, wearing the jeans and t-shirt he'd had on earlier. The top two fly buttons were undone – he didn't remember doing that – and he looked dishevelled. Somewhere along the line he'd taken off his socks and his feet were getting cold. He drank slowly and looked at Daniel over the rim of his coffee cup.
Daniel had removed shoes, socks and shirt earlier on, and replaced them with a pair of pyjama bottoms he'd swiped from the infirmary – having nothing else with him – fully intending to try to get some sleep. He stood by the kitchen table, barefoot and bare chested and didn't seem to notice the cold. He was fidgeting: moving from foot to foot, leaning against the table then standing straight, twisting his mug round in his hand, rubbing his hand through his hair.
In other words: they were behaving normally. Which gave Jack some hope. He set his mug down on the counter.
"Want some more?"
"Sure." Daniel held out the mug he'd emptied almost as soon as he'd picked it up. His hand was shaking.
"Here..." Jack put his hand over Daniel's to hold it steady and poured the coffee. When he'd filled the mug, instead of letting go he pulled the other man towards him. He put his other hand on Daniel's chest. "You're freezing! Wait there, I'll get you something."
He re-appeared after a moment or two with the afghan from the sofa, and wrapped it round his friend's shoulders, "The heating has been off all week..." He patted Daniel's arm.
"Ow Jack!"
"Crap – sorry... here, lemme take a look." He took the coffee away from an unresisting hand and moved the blanket aside. The sling was gone, but Daniel still wore a bandage, which Jack inspected, making sure it was still in place. They were very close, he could feel Daniel shaking. "Ah, hell, leave it. You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You don't look okay." He pulled Daniel closer and wrapped the blanket tighter. Daniel passively allowed himself to be lead into the living room and pushed onto the sofa.
"Hey, I could get used to you doing what you're told..." he trailed off as Daniel flinched at the words.
"I... um... I mean..." he hesitated then reached up and pulled the other man down beside him.
Daniel twisted round so that he could look Jack in the eye. "We have to talk."
"This isn't the time, Daniel, we're both tired…"
"Yes but if we don't talk now…" he left the rest unsaid.
Jack draped his arm over Daniel's shoulders and spoke gently. "Daniel, go back to bed now, and get some rest. We can talk in the morning."
"Can't."
"Doc Frasier gave me some stuff."
"No not doing that." He leaned into Jack's body and tucked his head under the other man's chin.
"They're not strong, just take a half?" Jack was absently stroking Daniel's hair, slow strokes from the crown of his head down to his neck. Slow gentle strokes, as though he were comforting a child. Daniel pressed closer into Jack and snaked his arm around his waist. Jack's hand stilled and he bent down and kissed the top of Daniel's head – then froze as he realised what he'd just done. Thankfully Daniel hadn't noticed. It felt oddly natural though, that they should be there like that.
O'Neill realised that he was content simply to sit and hold Daniel, having decided that talking could wait. He'd hardly noticed the arrival of the other man's arm, but felt the loss of warmth when it was moved away. Daniel fidgeted a little, and then lay down on the sofa with his head across Jack's legs. Twisting round onto his back so he could look at his friend, Daniel gave an an embarrassed laugh.
"Dead arm," he explained. He reddened as he realised where he was and what he was doing and made as if to sit up, but was prevented from doing this by a firm hand pushing him down again.
"Danny, 'sokay..." Jack left his hand on Daniel's chest preventing his escape.
The silence was deafening and would soon stretch from companionable into the realms of uncomfortable, but for now neither of the men trusted himself to speak. The hand on his chest was warm and comforting somehow for Daniel, and Jack was soothed by the heartbeat under his palm – it had slowed to a more gentle rhythm in the last few minutes.
Unnoticed by Jack, Daniel's eyes closed and he drifted in a comfortable half-sleep, the hand on his chest spreading warmth with the blood that his heart was pumping through his body. He felt like a child again and let his mind drift back to the days before his parents had been killed, when everything had been good with the world.
Jack regarded the quiet face and was again reminded of a sleeping child. He made small circular motions with his hand, then reached over and tucked the blanket more securely around both of them. He settled back into the sofa and closed his eyes. The steady breathing of his companion was soporific but he fought it and settled back, thinking about his life, waiting for the inevitable.
Which came only about half an hour after he was sure Daniel had fallen asleep.
Daniel jerked awake this time with a soundless scream, struggling to free himself from the confines of Jack and the afghan. When he felt the arms go around him, he fought for a second or two, then seemed to realise where he was and calmed somewhat. Only when he'd stopped thrashing around did Jack let go and move away from him. He kept his eyes on Daniel as he reached over and switched on the table lamp.
Daniel was rubbing his face and looking around in confusion. Even by the soft diffused light which now spread over the room, Jack had seen the tears, and wordlessly handed over a box of Kleenex. After a minute in which Daniel visibly drew himself together, he broke the silence.
"Any coffee left?"
"Stone cold... I can nuke some?"
"Yeah. Please." Daniel shivered and sat down again, this time in the easy chair, drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly.
Jack stood for a while in the kitchen doorway, two mugs balanced in one hand and a bottle of brandy in the other. He looked over at his friend and didn't like the appearance of the pale, tired looking man with red rimmed eyes trying to make himself small and unnoticeable.
The very thought of six feet of distinctly non-dweeby archaeologist trying to become invisible by curling into a ball like a little kid made Jack laugh. Daniel looked up in surprise at the sound and pulled Jack back into reality.
Thrusting a mug into Daniel's hands, Jack unscrewed the cap from the brandy bottle and poured an overgenerous measure into the coffee, then did the same for his own. He was mildly surprised that Daniel hadn't protested. In silence, Jack replaced the cap, stood the bottle on the coffee table and resumed his place on the sofa. He drank deeply and pulled a face at the taste. If he were honest with himself he'd admit that brandy wasn't really his drink, but as an aid to sleep it couldn't be bettered.
If only it came beer flavoured, he mused and pulled another face at himself. If his thoughts were going in such strange directions, he probably wouldn't need help sleeping. He threw a glance at his companion over the top of his mug. He too was making a face, and Jack remembered that Daniel didn't really drink much.
Except for that moonshine stuff they made on Abydos. Wasn't a military man. Wasn't a sports – not even fishing! – man. What the hell were they doing here like this? They had nothing in common.
And then their eyes met, and held each other's stare.
In that moment Jack knew that whatever it took, he'd have to make things right with this man, who had become more than just a member of his team, more than a friend outside of work, more than...
More than what?Daniel shivered again and swallowed the last of the revolting coffee/brandy concoction. He hadn't really wanted it, but it was warming and... well, if Jack gave it to him then it was probably okay. Wondering where that thought suddenly sprang from he looked over, into brown eyes that seemed to mesmerise and hold him there, unable to move.
He shivered again.
That broke their stare as Jack roused himself and stood up.
"Have you finished that?"
"Mmm."
"Good. Get back to bed."
"Uh... no."
"You're freezing."
"Gimme the blanket then."
"Go to bed," Jack grinned suddenly. "I can make that an order."
"I'm a civilian..."
"Daniel!"
"Sorry... force of habit." His face became serious. "Look, I just don't... you know..."
"No, I don't know." Jack feigned ignorance.
"It's pointless. We both know that in half an hour or so I'll be climbing the walls. I'll stay here, you go to bed."
"What? And have you watching the Discovery channel?" Jack was standing in front of Daniel now." Not on my TV!" He held out his hand. "I'll sit with you."
"What, no bedtime story? I'm not your..." Daniel stopped suddenly as he saw the look on Jack's face. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."
"I know." He hauled on Daniel's good arm. "Come on before you freeze to death. Believe me, that really sucks."
Jack pulled gently, and this time the other man followed him up the stairs and into the main bedroom. Daniel looked around with interest, although he'd been at the house before he'd never been in this room. It wasn't as tidy as he'd expected but other than that he wasn't surprised. Not exactly spartan, it wasn't overdecorated either, more comfortable/functional.
Jack waved an arm around, "if I'd have realised you'd be coming in here I'd have picked up after myself." He turned down the comforter and pushed Daniel first into a sitting position, and then when he merely sat there unmoving, Jack made him lie with his head on the pillow.
"Jack I..."
"Daniel. It's okay. I'll be right over there." He indicated a wicker chair in the corner currently occupied by a pile of neatly folded laundry. Picking up a book from the nightstand he carefully moved the pile of clothes onto the floor, switched off the overhead light in favour of a reading lamp and settled down. Daniel watched as Jack stared at his book, his eyes showing no indication that he was reading anything. His own eyes were getting heavy, and he tried his pharaoh counting trick again. It didn't work and within ten minutes of entering the room he was asleep.
This time Jack was still wide awake, so when Daniel made the first sound, he was out of the chair and by his side before he'd even opened his eyes. He laid his head on the pillow next to Daniel, and rubbed a soothing hand on Daniel's exposed shoulder. Jack pushed gently and a sleepily compliant archaeologist shifted towards the middle of the bed. He twitched in his sleep and looked as though he were straining against something, or someone. He tensed then started to thrash around, but at Jack's touch relaxed into sleep again.
Carefully Jack stole back to the wicker chair, but this time had no need to make a pretence of reading. He glanced at the cover again and wondered if Daniel had noticed. Probably. He didn't miss much, even when he was totally out of it, and a title with the words Classical and Literature in the incongruous setting of Jack's bedroom would have been like a beacon to him.
The air force colonel had to admit that it was gripping stuff, if only 'A Guide to Classical Literature for Complete Idiots' had been available when he'd been in high school history, his history, might have taken a totally different path. Of course, then he'd never have met Daniel, never have gone through a wormhole, never...
The man on the bed stirred and mumbled in his sleep, but there were no more of the blood curdling yells.
Jack looked at his watch.
Early o'clock, he wondered if it was worth trying to snatch some sleep. Glancing once more at Daniel he decided to go for it and tried to get comfortable on the chair.
In vain.
Every time he thought he'd achieved maximum comfort, a small piece of the wicker would dig into him, causing him to shift again. After what seemed like an hour but was, in reality, only ten minutes, he gave up trying to be comfortable. He looked over at the bed. Daniel had moved over to the side furthest from the door – he was still mumbling and restlessly, moving his head and arms, as though still trying to fend someone off. The wind blew through the open window, billowing the curtains and making Jack shiver. That made up his mind for him. He had no problem watching over Daniel to make sure he got some rest, but he was damned if he was going to freeze to death.
Again.
Okay so that was a little melodramatic, but still he didn't fancy getting cold, so he switched off the lamp and climbed into the bed. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling in that strange half light that comes before the dawn. He closed his eyes, but of course he couldn't sleep. He could feel the warmth radiating from Daniel's body, could hear his breathing and, if he looked out of the corner of his eye, could see the rise and fall of his chest. It felt strangely comforting to be so close to him but at the same time Jack was extremely disturbed to be enjoying that comfort.
From past experience, he knew that he was waiting for the next nightmare. The next scream. The next opportunity to get closer to Daniel.
Whoa! What the...? Jack had really surprised himself there. Or had he? He resolutely closed his eyes again, and tried to think of anything but the man next to him. And of course his brain had other ideas. His eyes snapped open again so he glanced over at the clock.
Still early.
The false dawn had given up the attempt and the night-time blackness had returned. The air coming through the window was very cold. That, and the number of stars he could see in the small patch of sky revealed by the shifting curtain, told him that there was no cloud cover. Rubbing a hand over his eyes and face, Jack tried to come to a decision.
He was comfortable and warm in bed with Daniel.
In bed with Daniel.
His telescope was permanently set up on the deck. With the window open he'd hear if Daniel needed him. The stars twinkled their invitation. Colonel O'Neill, hard bitten black-ops trained member of the USAF, looked once more at the man sleeping beside him.
And then, pausing only to grab the top item of clothing from the pile of laundry, Jack fled the room in panic at the sudden and overwhelming realisation that he'd fallen for his teammate. Tugging the sweatshirt over his head, and reflecting that it was lucky that the top item hadn't been a pair of pants or something equally useless, he swiped the half-full bottle of brandy from the living room, launched himself up the ladder and found himself breathless on the deck.
Heart pounding, blood making a terrible din in his ears, he sat and put his eye to the telescope. He stood up, slowly, walked deliberately round and removed the cap from the end before walking back and resuming his seat.
The stars were bright, there were no clouds, the moon was almost completely gone. It was a perfect night for stargazing, but all he could see was Daniel.
Daniel.
"Aw, f'r cryin' out loud!"
Daniel!
Trying to breathe calmly and stop the rushing sound in his ears, Jack strained for any sounds coming out of the bedroom. He wasn't sure how he'd have reacted to discovering that Daniel was in the grip of another terrible nightmare. Now that it had dawned on him, in what he had to admit was almost a blinding flash of the obvious, that he was in love – he winced as his inner voice spoke that word – with Daniel. He had to face up to the fact that he was afraid.
Jack had no use for anyone who claimed never to have been afraid. That was plain stupid. As someone who'd been in danger for his life countless times since the age of about five – starting with falling out of a badly constructed tree-house and going downhill from there – he had become well acquainted with fear. The way it seemed to sink from your brain as it sent out the first messages to the rest of your body, twisting around your gut and trying to hide as deep as possible in your body. He'd always imagined fear itself to be a small frightened reptile – which didn't really help him much, but whenever he got that sinking feeling he imagined a gekko or something slithering around his intestines.
He shook his head at the thought Get a grip, O'Neill, he tried to drag his thoughts in any direction but Daniel. He remembered well meaning people talking to him after Charlie had... died. He knew that confronting his feelings would be the best course of action but... Feelings? All that 'touchy feely' stuff left him cold.
Yet, he'd wanted to give Daniel comfort. Jack tried to think back to when it had all started, but wasn't really surprised at the realisation that it had crept up on him, more stealthily than anything he'd ever encountered. Certainly after Sha're's death he had tried to give Daniel support and understanding. After the whole thing on Kheb and the next encounter with Shifu.
Boy, that kid had really taken it out of Daniel. Jack had always assumed that it had more to do with the fact that he was Sha're's child – now he wasn't so sure. What if he'd been trying to grab at something like a family? O'Neill gripped at the brandy bottle and fought the urge to open it and drown his feelings. He didn't really know why he'd picked it up – he'd done the whole 'drinking to forget' thing and wasn't sure he would survive it a second time.
Daniel had certainly tried hard to make SG-1 work as a team rather than a dictatorship. Jack snorted as he remembered the occasions when Daniel had wilfully disobeyed orders. Of course, it was difficult to bawl out a civilian – not that they hadn't had their altercations on this subject in the past – especially when Daniel's actions had been proved correct. Time and again. But now Jack looked at it in a different light. His years with SG-1 were highly likely one of the only times that Daniel had been part of a unit. Considered on-side rather than a geek with off-the-wall ideas.
Jack looked upwards to the heavens for inspiration and saw with a jolt of surprise that this time the dawn wasn't false. Peering at his wrist, he remembered that he'd taken off his watch before getting into bed with Daniel.
Getting into bed with Daniel – what the fuck??!! Although he had to admit, that the thought had brought on the warm fuzzies. They vanished when his reptile of fear poked its ugly head up and made a scary face: the reason he'd taken off his watch? So it didn't catch on Daniel when he...Jack had the top off the bottle and was glugging down liquid fire before he'd gotten to the end of that thought. But his brain was as stubborn as he, of course, and the thought made it quite clear that it wanted to be in the forefront of his consciousness. And the complete thought was: I took off my watch so that it didn't scratch Daniel when I cuddled up to him.
He inhaled deeply.
...when?That 'when' was important. The intention had been there all along, he simply hadn't seen it. His brain flexed itself and deposited one more little gem for Jack to mull over: What's the boy wonder going to say about all this then?
~oOo~
Disturbing images were flashing through Daniel's mind as he tossed and turned during one of the frequent nightmares. The brandy was, unknown to him, suppressing the worst of them, which meant that he was looking at a few hours of unbroken sleep. Something he hadn't had in over a week.
He was in a darkened room. The only light came from a very small lamp in the corner, which didn't so much light the room as emphasise the darkness outside of its limited sphere of radiance. As Daniel approached what he knew in his soul to be the safety of that tiny pool of brightness, something – somethings – started to crawl all over him. Frantically brushing at them, he looked around for help and saw a man, who he hadn't noticed before, unstretching from his sitting position near the lamp and walking very slowly towards him.
Daniel opened his mouth to scream, but before any sound came out, he was pulled into an embrace. Strong hands stroked his back and when he was calm he was taken slowly towards the light and made to lie down. The man lay behind him and rested one arm on his shoulder. The light, although it was no brighter than before, seemed more powerful, and the darkness receded. Feeling warm and protected, Daniel sank into a deep sleep.
At some point during the night, he'd wriggled free of the comforter and was lying crosswise on the bed with only his feet covered. The breeze was cool on his exposed skin and this together with the usual result of an excess of liquid before bedtime, conspired to wake him. It was, however, a slow process. Daniel had been so tired for so long, he really had no desire to wake, especially from a dream that left him feeling calm and secure. He kept his eyes closed and patted around with one hand until he found what he was looking for and pulled the warmth up over himself. He tried but was, of course, doomed to failure. Bladders have almost total control over the rest of the body, and the Jackson bladder is no exception.
With a grunt he pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. For a split second, he was completely confused, but then images of the previous evening attacked him from all angles at once. He was assaulted with the memory of a hand over his heart; the burning sensation as the brandy rushed along his oesophagus; hearing Jack's cry and rushing to his aid in the living room; not wanting to sleep. More than that, he had a feeling of having been watched.
Looking around he shook that feeling off: he was alone in the room. But the impression that he'd not been alone, the warmth and protective feeling from his dream persisted as he finally made it to his feet and stumbled towards the door.
He stood in the bathroom with that feeling of relief that only a really good long piss in the morning can give, and wondered how much of last night wasn't real.
Oh, there you go again Mr.Glass-half-empty... Daniel bent over the washbasin and splashed his face ...oh and... 'get out of my head, Jack I don't need you in there'... some of last night was good... wasn't it?
Stomach rumbling, he shuffled out to the kitchen after having unhooked one of the bathrobes hanging on the back of the door. The silence was odd – he had only ever heard noise in this house. Except for that time when he'd gone to see Jack after... Daniel cut that thought off abruptly. It had been an awful experience.
For once in his life he'd been completely sure that someone actually liked him and wanted to be his friend. To have Jack metaphorically kick him in the teeth with that whole 'foundation thing' speech, had hurt him deeply. At the time, he couldn't believe that the emotion that had passed between them on Klorel's ship – followed by Jack's euphoria at his safe return – hadn't been real, but there was Jack, spelling it out for him. Even afterwards, getting in the 'we drew straws' dig at Jack had felt good for all of two minutes, then he'd begun to worry if he'd hurt him too. That evening at home, he'd come to realise that Jack meant a lot to him but he'd given it no more real thought.
Until that time on the balcony. Then he'd been convinced that Jack really cared.
And then it had hit him.
Jack loved him.
Jack loved him and didn't know it.
Daniel being Daniel, had said and done nothing to scare him off, because a Jack that loved him unknowingly was a Jack that would stick around. Daniel didn't want to think what the consequences might be if Jack ever realised that what he felt for his 'Spacemonkey' – since he'd been thinking about Klorel's ship, it was only natural that the word would pop into his head – was more than mere friendship.
Daniel had loved Jack since that time on Ernest's planet when they had so spectacularly nearly not made it through the gate. It was a new experience: Daniel had never loved another man before. He'd loved, really loved, precious few women, but this was something completely different. Too dangerous for him to say anything, however, he'd loved from afar at first, and then stamped that emotion into a tiny box and locked it away.
Jack had given him a few wobbly moments, but when all was said and done, what he felt for Jack had been his rock.
And Jack still loved him.
And still didn't know it.
By now, he was starting to worry. Jack was conspicuous by his absence. Usually there would be some sort of singing in the shower, or music of some description – depending on his mood – emanating from the kitchen. Come to think of it, Daniel had never ever woken in this house to anything other than music and the smell of coffee.
In his heightened state of sleepless despair, he began to panic. Rushing around the place, he double – triple- checked the rooms. He looked everywhere for messages. As he was going past the door for the fourth time, on his way to phone the police, he heard the crunch of the gravel drive.
He wrenched open the front door with near perfect timing. Near perfect because Jack remained standing with his key poised to open the lock. A second later and he'd have had the Colonel on his ass for the second time in two days.
"Better luck next time, Danny," Jack breezed in clutching a bulging grocery bag which he set down on the kitchen counter. He waved a hand at it, "Provisions," was his terse explanation.
Jack made a great show of sniffing the air. "Coffee smells mighty good!" He heaved a sigh and fiddled around the coffee machine.
"Jack! I just got up, and you scared thehelloutofmewherehaveyoubeen?"
"Whoa! Hold on there. I left a note."
"Note?"
"There," he indicated the fridge door, "you can read I take it?"
Daniel snatched the small piece of paper that was taped to the fridge door. He peered at it close up. He squinted at it at arm's length. Finally holding it disdainfully between two fingers, he elegantly extended his arm and handed it back to Jack.
"Nope. You've got me beat. I could be mistaken but it looks like a till receipt from your last trip to Wally World."
"Wha… gimme," Jack snatched it out of his hand and gave a start as he looked at the scrap "Ah. I can explain. Um…" rummaging around in his pockets he came up with a grubby scrap of paper which he held out to Daniel.
"Shop," Daniel enunciated. "Well, it's hardly 'War and Peace' is it?"
"It's concise and to the point. Not to mention totally, 100% true."
"It could be the command form of the verb. It could be an instruction to me to go shopping. As a means of getting a message across… you get a D-minus."
Jack stared at Daniel, who was shaking uncontrollably, in disbelief.
"Did I miss something here?"
"Did you… miss… something?" the 'miss' was hissed through clenched teeth, "only me getting frantic with worry… I was just about to call the goddam cops!"
"Daniel 'goddam' what is this?" Jack was using the tone guaranteed to drive Daniel into a fury, but he couldn't stop himself. Daniel knew the kitchen was empty, Jesus, they were both starving enough to eat mouldy cheese last night! What the fuck did he expect?
"I mean, first you call me a … lemme see, what was it now… ah yes a 'stupid son-of-a-bitch' and now it's 'goddam'… you've been hanging around with the military too long!"
Daniel was suddenly very still. His face showed several of the emotions that he went through, before settling on white-hot anger.
"Well, maybe you're right. But I can do something about that right away!" He spun on his heel and ran to the guest room, snatching at his pyjamas along the way. He didn't want to be in Jack's kitchen, his house, his life one moment longer than he had to.
By the time Jack had realised what was happening and given chase, Daniel was putting on his second shoe.
"I'll call a taxi if that's okay." Daniel said, sullenly.
"No, it's not okay."
Daniel merely shrugged, "Oh well, I'm sure I can hitch a ride, the highway down there," he jerked his thumb. "Gets quite busy."
"I meant it's not okay to call a taxi, because you're not leaving," Jack was almost growling, and his normally warm brown eyes were hard and cold.
"I'm your prisoner now?"
"I told the doc I'd look after you…"
"You call getting me drunk, scaring me half to death, then joking about it 'looking after' me?"
"I thought I left a note."
"I'm not telepathic. You could have woken me…"
"Daniel! You were dead to the world," Jack shifted uncomfortably at the sudden flash of memory at how Daniel had looked when he'd gone in to the bedroom, fully intending to wake him. He'd merely stood in the doorway and watched the man he loved – the phrase made him inwardly cringe– sleep. Nothing more. But he'd felt like a voyeur and he had to admit that if he'd stayed there much longer he'd have been in need of some… ah, what was the phrase he'd heard one of the guys on base use… 'light relief'… yeah, that was it. He'd definitely have been in need of some 'light relief'.
Daniel asleep, now that was something Jack could look at forever and then some. He'd been sprawled on his front across the bed, torso and legs uncovered, one arm tucked under the pillow, with his injured arm flung out carelessly. His legs were stretched out, slightly apart, with only his feet covered. The too large pyjamas had ridden down and were bunched around his hips which meant that – since he was shirtless – there was an awful lot of Daniel's skin for Jack to look at.
It was all he could do not to go over to the sleeping man and touch him. Oh he'd wanted to all right, but there was a part of him that knew he never would. Anyway, someone like Daniel would never go for someone like him… that thought came out of left-field and had shocked him completely.
There it was again, the admission that whatever it was he felt for Daniel – he'd decided not to use the l-word – it was unnatural. Men couldn't love each other. Well, he was sure that some men did, but not men like he and Daniel.
They were to... ah... masculine.
Very.
He looked over at Daniel's muscled back, tapered waist and well defined shoulders and biceps.
Definitely Masculine.
With a capital M.
He'd abandoned his plan to wake Daniel, and instead left a note. Or so he'd thought.
Daniel didn't miss the softening in Jack's face, and wondered what had caused it. Most of him was flattered and excited that Jack loved him. There was, however, a small part of him still suffering from the 'I don't like most of what you say' jibe, which added to the scene this morning made him want to stick the knife in.
And twist it.
Twice.
"Okay Jack," Daniel removed his shoes and socks and dropped them in an untidy heap. "You wanna talk? Let's talk."
Leaning back on his elbows he assumed an attitude of deep thought.
"Oh wait, there is just one thing though…" He stood up suddenly and moved very close to Jack, purposefully invading his personal space. His voice dropped to a low growl.
"… you don't like most of what I say, so you do the talking," he jabbed Jack's shoulder. "Right?"
Jack rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed a few times "Jesus Daniel! Is that what this is all about?"
"All what?"
"You've been avoiding me. That whole thing in the gate room…" He winced as Daniel glared at him, then sagged and sat back on the bed "…not sleeping?"
"So? What do you care?"
"Daniel… I… you know that was what I had to do… you know that!"
"There are always options."
"Not this time. Daniel… you've seen what those suckers can do to a planet."
"You still don't get it, do you Jack?"
"Obviously not. Care to explain?"
"Not really."
Jack had had enough of dancing around the subject. He took two strides over to the bed and sat beside Daniel. The other man was now crosslegged in the middle, twisting his glasses about in his hands. His head sagged and a single tear dropped onto one of the lenses.
"Daniel… I'm sorry, I have no idea what I've done to set you off… Sarah would tell you, I'm no good at this stuff… If you just tell me we can get through it."
"If I have to tell you…"
"What is this? You're making it sound as though we're an old married couple!"
"Feels like it sometimes…" The solitary drop of water was joined by several more.
Daniel sniffed and looked so dejected that Jack couldn't help himself. He shifted closer and put his arms around the other man. Turning his face so that his mouth was in Daniel's short hair, he kissed it and hugged him closer.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"You're squashing my glasses."
"Oh." He put them on the nightstand and turned back to Daniel, who wouldn't look at him. Jack didn't have a clue what to say, so he said nothing, and bent his head even closer to his dejected friend, who was mumbling something.
"You'll have to speak up…"
"Uh? Oh, nothing." Daniel coloured. He suddenly noticed the other man's proximity and pushed himself away.
"What? What did I miss?"
"Nothing!"
Jack took a deep breath. It was now or never, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.
"I think I have to leave the SGC."
"Excuse me?"
"I can't … we can't go on like this."
"Like what?"
"You haven't noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
"Aw c'mon Jack… you don't trust me… you never really have. You don't trust my judgement, my decisions…"
"That's not true."
"No? Look me in the eye and say that? You can't because it is true. You can't believe there is ever another way than the path chosen by the almighty Colonel Jack O'Neill. Well I've got news for you and it's all bad. There is always another option!" Daniel's face was flushed and his eyes shining with the passion of his feelings. "You took one look at those replicators and…"
"Nearly pissed my pants, that's what…"
"…and decided that Reece had to be killed. And you weren't happy until you killed her."
"It was a robot…"
"She was a sentient being Jack… she was self-aware and afraid to die! And you …"
"Well, so am I… and so are 6 billion other people on this planet. And that, if I may remind you, wasn't Lego she… it… was playing…"
Daniel, ignoring the interruption, was almost talking to himself by this time. "You killed her. In cold blood. You stormed in that room, and I saw it in your eyes. You were horrified that I was talking to her, trusting her and asking her to trust in me…" Tears were trickling down his face as he looked up at Jack "… you were disgusted that I could want to talk to her…"
Jack was shaking his head, his eyes widening in realisation of what Daniel was saying "Daniel! Stop!" He shook him gently by the shoulder. "Stop! It wasn't like that… Daniel!"
Daniel had stopped talking and was looking at his hands again, the tears were coming faster now and he was paying no attention to Jack, who had no idea what to do.
He inched closer and put his hands on either side of Daniel's face, then forced him to look up. They were so close their noses were almost touching.
"I can see how it might have looked to you. And, sure, part of me was protecting the planet. Again." He gave a small twisted smile. "But the one thing that pushed me into that room – more than anything else – was you."
Jack spoke very quietly, but there was something in his voice that got through to Daniel. He had Daniel's complete attention. His eyes wide, and fixed on Jack's, he was hardly breathing he was concentrating that much.
Jack tightened his embrace and rocked gently sideways until they were both lying on the bed. Face to face, chest to chest. Daniel pushed his good arm under Jack's body and draped the other around his waist. They moved legs, bodies and heads until they were comfortable, all the time Daniel's eyes were locked on Jack's. Dry eyes now, Jack was glad to note.
Jack continued on talking, his voice low and soothing, rubbing his hands up and down Daniel's back "I didn't want you to get hurt. Okay, you get bashed around all the time, so I know you can take it… but," he reached up and tapped Daniel's forehead, "… in here… you take the knocks." His voice choked up and he fell silent.
Daniel closed his eyes and pulled himself closer, if that were possible, to the man lying next to him. Their bodies touched from chest to toe. Taking a deep breath, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Jack's mouth, tightening his arms around him and pushing his leg between Jack's legs.
Daniel stopped breathing and time stood still. He tensed against how Jack would react, his ears pounding. He was sure that Jack must feel his heart trying to beat a path out of his chest and into Jack's. And then he felt it, Jack pulled him even closer – their embrace was almost painful – and returned the kiss.
Daniel's surprise made him open his eyes and mouth and Jack took his chance. Jack tasted of toothpaste, Daniel was suddenly embarrassed that he hadn't even showered yet, let alone brushed his teeth. He pulled back, but Jack followed – pressing himself closer.
Daniel yelped and pulled his head away "Arm!"
"Jesus, sorry! You alright?"
"Mmmm…."
"Let me see."
"Nothing to see… it's okay. I'm fine."
"Ah… Daniel… fine? You're fine?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
"You okay Jack?"
"Daniel… I don't want to make a big deal out of this, but we're … ah… we're… aw crap… we're making out here!"
"Mmmm," Daniel moved forward again and pressed gently with his chest, when Jack obligingly rolled onto his back, he rolled with him, so Daniel was lying on top of him. "So we are!"
They kissed again and now there was no gentleness from Jack, just the release of a need that had been building up inside him for a long time. He grasped Daniel firmly on either side of his face and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss.
The kissing became more frantic, Jack's hands were roaming around Daniel's back and Daniel's good hand seemed to have a mind of its own. They rolled onto their sides, Daniel tugging at Jack's shirt until he could slide it up and feel the chest concealed underneath. He pushed the shirt up until his skin was revealed and moved back a little so that he could lick and bite the exposed flesh.
He was overwhelmed with the smell and taste of Jack's skin, he'd showered using a musky scented gel and that combined with the underlying Jack smell, was turning him on. Licking slowly up from the stomach to the hollow just underneath the ribs, then along the indentation in the middle of Jack's ribcage, he was finally confronted with a mouthful of t-shirt. He tugged and pulled, but Jack pulled away from him, rolling abruptly onto his back.
Surprised, Daniel looked up to meet Jack's eyes – the shock, regret and – surprisingly – fear he saw there, pushed him off the bed in possibly the quickest move he'd ever made.
"Oh God, oh God… sorry, sorry…" Daniel was sitting on the floor, pulling on his shoes and socks, invisible to Jack who lay on the bed with his hands covering his face, hiding his eyes, hiding the turmoil.
Feet finally encased in cotton and leather, Daniel stood and regarded the recumbent man for half a second before turning on his heel and exiting the room.
Totally out of his depth, Jack didn't have a clue what to say and suspected that anything that did come out of his mouth would be completely wrong. So he said nothing and remained where he was, until he had heard the bedroom door slam and Daniel's feet thundering down the stairs.
Jack lay on the bed, listening to the sounds outside the window. Sounds of life, sounds that felt out of place of his own life which was seemed as if it were unravelling. He knew that he and Daniel had just crossed a line, and he had jumped back from it like a scalded cat. He didn't know why he had pulled away like that. No, he did know. It was fear, plain and simple. His love for his friend had caused him to reach out to him, and Daniel had responded, reluctantly, and finally eagerly.
And Jack blew it.
Fear had caused him to hurt his friend. Again.
He wondered if Daniel would ever want to look him in the eye again
The telephone gave a small bleep as the receiver was replaced in the cradle. Jack lay on the bed for 20 minutes, watching the bedside clock tick away the minutes. Each minute taking him further away from the ability to jump up and go after his friend.
"If he still is a friend," he groaned.
As the 20th minute clicked by, he made the decision and jumped up. He couldn't let Daniel leave just like that. Jack was halfway down the stairs when the front door slammed, and opening the door, just as the cab pulled away.
Jack O'Neill watched the receding vehicle and didn't know whether he'd had a lucky escape from one of the biggest mistakes in his life, or if he'd totally blown it.
Closing the door again, he noticed a note propped against the telephone. He was tempted to screw it up and toss it out with the trash, but something made him stop and take it into the kitchen. The coffee machine was still switched on – he could hardly believe it had only been just over an hour since he'd returned from the market – so he poured a cup and sat, with the note, at the kitchen table.
Smoothing it out, he was astounded that Daniel had managed to cover a whole page – both sides – of a legal pad in his barely legible scrawl. His writing, that normally resembled the footprints of a drunken spider that had been dipped in ink, was worse than usual, and it took Jack a while to decipher some of it. His coffee waited, forgotten and cold as he read, and re-read what Daniel had written.
'Jack,
I know you think that I'm a waste of space. I don't fit in to your military ideal. And now you know about me, I'm sure you just want to punch me in the face.
I'm sorry.
But this wasn't just about me, was it? There are things we need to discuss – this weekend isn't long enough. We need some time.
I'm going to ask General Hammond if I can join SG-9. I'll stay with them for a week – we have a mission to Colona (Sam is really excited about some stuff she wants from them) and after that two weeks leave.
Can we get through a week without you killing me? Or wanting to kill me?
Tell the Doc I stayed with you.
Daniel
PS. Naquadria or something. That's what Sam is after.'
Jack reached for the phone, and dialled Daniel's number. He knew that the cab wouldn't have arrived, but didn't actually want to talk to him, just leave a message. He only hoped that Daniel would forgive him.
"Hi, Daniel. It's me. Jack. Two weeks… come fishing?"
~The End~
