What Dreams May Bring

By Sioux

Minute spoilers for Meridian and Revalations

PG

Jack settled back into his easy chair, wriggling shoulder blades against the comforting embrace of the upholstery.

Tonight hadn't been such a bad night, all things considered. Sam had managed to lighten up a little, Teal'c had been less sombre and he'd felt fine. Well, OK, not fine. But the two bottles of wine Sam and he had consumed between them with their food and the three JD's afterwards had eased the hollow pain in his chest a little.

Lazily he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and took a cautious sip. He had a fair idea he was going to be having a heavy head tomorrow, but what the hell. This was his way of giving Daniel a good send off. Sadly, Jack realised how much the military lack of emotion was beginning to cripple him. Hell, he hadn't even shed a tear when he'd watched Daniel take those first steps into the unknown. He hadn't even reached out to touch him one last time. Probably why Sara had walked away in the end. Who wanted to live with a man who apparently couldn't care less if you stayed or if you went?

That was him, Colonel Jack O'Neill, military first, man, very much last. He stared down into his glass then lifted it reverently, toasting the dimly lit room.

"To you Danny. May the road always rise up to meet you."

He took a healthy gulp of the spirit, held its burn in his mouth for a few seconds then swallowed. He leaned his head back against the chair, turning slightly to look out of the window. He had only bothered to switch on a small lamp, just enough light to see his way around the room without breaking his neck tripping over the furniture.

He sighed at his reflection. How many times had he and Daniel sat here and cheerfully debated the hockey matches while drinking beer and eating take-away food? The ache in his chest intensified. He knew that pain, was intimately familiar with it. It was loss, grief call it what you will. It was always there lurking around, ready to strike at the most unexpected moments. He knew he would eventually get used to it and the wound would scab over until the next fresh one was inflicted. Charlie, Kawalsky so many other comrades in arms and now his precious Daniel. Wearily he closed his eyes against the lonely figure looking back at him in the window.

A faint breeze lifted his hair, like the wind of passage of a body walking past him to get to the settee.

"Mind if I help myself?"

"Have I ever?"

"No. Always generous with your booze."

He smiled at the compliment. Hearing the sound of a bottle clinking against a glass.

"Got any ice?"

"It's…"

"…in the ice box. Where else?"

Deliberately Jack kept his eyes firmly closed. He heard the ice box door open, the sound of cubes being poured into the ice bucket then the sound of the bucket being put on his coffee table. Next to the bottle he guessed. So, his visitor intended to stay a little while.

"Sam thinks I'm a cold unfeeling bastard," Jack said.

"I know."

"You don't sound surprised."

"Don't think I am really."

"You agree with her?"

"Didn't say that."

"Do you?"

"No. I don't."

"Soooo, how long are you staying?"

"Do you want me to leave?"
"I can't believe you don't know the answer to that one!"

A chuckle greeted his remark.

"What's it like?"
"I can't really describe it in a way you'd understand."

Jack hesitated before asking the next question. Part of him desperate for the right answer, part of him dreading hearing the wrong one.

"Are you happy?"

"Happiness is a relative value."

"Fer cryin' out loud! I didn't understand her when she said all that stuff and I don't understand you either! Are you happy?"

"I'm not in pain. I'm warm, I feel loved. I can do a lot more and I know different things."

Jack was not unaware his question hadn't been answered.

"What kinda things?"

"I know how people are feeling. I can sense what they're thinking. And you'd like me to prove it?"
"Wouldn't be me unless I asked that."

"No, you wouldn't be you. Well then. Teal'c is happy for me. He's also mourning for me. You know Sam needs to work through her grief. So does the General and Janet. You know I don't think I actually realised so many people cared for me so deeply before I got here. It's an amazing experience seeing all this emotion, being able to touch it, letting flow through me…"

Jack swallowed hard. God that sounded just like the Daniel he knew when he found something new and fascinating. His enthusiasm knew no bounds.

"Language!"

"What?"

"Language. I've spent so much of my life studying language hoping to communicate and now I see it is such a barrier to real communication. We cover our feelings with words so the edges are blunted. We use language to take a step back in case we get hurt. Instead of using it to let others get close to us, we use it as a suit of armour to keep them at bay."

"Yeah," Jack replied softly.

"For example, I would never have thought of substituting the word admire for the word love. I'm not sure I could have held on to the insides of my trouser pockets until my hands bled so I wouldn't reach out to touch someone. Then immediately afterwards do the bravest thing I've ever felt and let someone go, when all you wanted to do was to keep them with you."

Jack sniffed hard. Scalding tears forcing their way out from under his closed eyelids.

He heard the sound of a glass being put on the coffee table, then a body raising itself up from the settee. A faint scent of a familiar cologne washed over him, he breathed deeply trying to hold the memory for a while longer.

Without warning gentle fingers brushed his tears away, nearly shocking Jack into opening his eyes.

"You're a hell of a brave man Jack O'Neill and I've come to admire you, despite what a pain in the ass you can be!"

Despite himself Jack smiled.

"That's better!" The well remembered voice even seemed to smile as it said the words.

Soft, warm lips placed a butterfly kiss on his forehead.

"And I love you and I miss you all."

Jack sensed the other man standing and preparing to leave again. It was now or never.

"Danny!"

There was no reply, but Jack took a chance and said the words anyway.

"I miss you."

"I know."

"You knew? You just wanted to hear me say that, didn't you?"

"I didn't need to hear you say it. I know you miss me. Just like I know you keep looking at that photograph of us all you keep locked in you desk drawer at work. Just like I know how much you hate Jonas' people for what happened to me. You need to let that hatred and guilt go." The voice paused, before adding softly, "Just like I know how much you love me."

Jack swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"Are you coming back?" he asked, unsteadily.

"Leave that for now."

Jack nodded.

"Jack!"

"Yeah?"

"I am happy where I am. It's where I need to be for a little while."

Jack felt his mostly empty glass being taken out of his hand. Still he refused to open his eyes. If he opened his eyes, his dream Daniel would go and there would just be a lonely, grey-haired man sitting in a chair looking at his own reflection in the dark mirror of his window, once again.

"Now go to sleep. You've a busy day tomorrow."

"Will you come and see us sometimes?" Jack asked almost shyly.

"Do you think I would stay away?"
"Hope not."

"Sleep. Now!"

Jack cracked open a gritty, sore eyelid and glared at the strong shaft of sunlight which had dared to wake him from such pleasant dreams. Despite his tongue feeling as if it were growing a carpet and his head being dull and heavy he felt remarkably peaceful, until he tried to move. Sleeping in a chair wasn't the most highly recommended position for the older damaged back. He squirmed experimentally until most of the kinks had eased, then he hunched forwards, rubbing his eyes. Tracks of dried tears on his cheeks told him he had been crying last night in his sleep. Grief dreams he called them, his subconscious working its way through things for him. Briskly he rubbed his face and stood up, looking around on the floor for where his glass have fallen from his hand. It wasn't on the floor anywhere. His eye fell on the coffee table, then he sat down again, slowly. Two glasses, side by side. Both had been used and his ice bucket was there too, half full of melted ice cubes. He didn't like ice in his drink. Instinctively he looked at the settee. The corner cushion bore the slight imprint of a body. He sniffed as a wonderful heavenly scent reached him from his kitchen. He raced through to find the coffee pot hot and full of the fragrant brew. Jack raced across to his guest bedroom, where Daniel used to sleep when he stayed over, and threw open the door. Empty. So was his own bedroom. Slowly he made his way back to the kitchen and filled a mug with coffee. He turned to reach into his ice box for milk then caught sight of the new addition stuck to the door with a magnet. The mug slid out of his hand and smashed. He didn't even notice where the hot coffee splashed him, as he stared in total disbelief at the photograph. The last time he had seen that was the previous evening, just before Sam, Teal'c and himself had headed off to grab some dinner. Just before that strange breeze in the mountain. He had been gazing at this photo, remembering happier times, then he had locked it in the drawers of his desk, at work.