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The touch to
his shoulder jerked Daniel awake. He banged
his head on the nuclear weapon and his
glasses fell off. Jack, crouched in front of
him, caught them neatly and put them back on
for him. Daniel sat up a little straighter
and blinked at him, very confused by his
unexpected proximity.
"Let's take a walk," Jack suggested, pulling
Daniel to his feet and away from the cargo
deck, blandly ignoring Sam and her team of
engineers as if they weren't there.
Teal'c was engaged in Kel'No'Reem, oblivious
to them as Jack gathered up their gear.
Daniel found himself outside the ship and
inserted into his jacket before he could
pull himself together enough to say anything
and when he was finally feeling reasonably
compos mentis, he couldn't think of what to
say. He allowed Jack to lead him down the
sodden dirt track, wondering why he was
here.
"Could you give me a few days to change
mental gears here?" he said at last. Not
that Jack had been totally uncommunicative
in the past day or so. In fact, in the
briefing, he'd been in danger of actually
being pleasant. Daniel was wary of his
sudden inclusion, to say the least.
Seeming a bit strained, Jack pulled a face,
awkwardly patting Daniel's shoulder.
Daniel was so embarrassed he tensed up,
almost shrugging Jack off. He shot him a
deprecating look and Jack only smiled a
little, giving him a reassuring squeeze as
he moved closer to him, their arms brushing
as they walked. It used to be part of who
they were, their closeness unthinking. What
had once come so naturally to them was
studied now, as if by appointment. Frankly,
Daniel didn't feel he'd been granted
sufficient notice and he wasn't particularly
grateful for the attention.
"This is an ambush," Jack noted
unnecessarily, for the record.
"I gathered," Daniel replied ironically.
"I didn't ask how you were doing, having to
leave Sarah Gardner behind on the space
station," Jack stunned him with somewhat
inept sympathy. "Did anyone?"
"Teal'c. Later," Daniel told him awkwardly.
"I guess he felt obligated. He was the only
one to come see me before we gated through
to Revanna."
Jack winced. "I'm sorry about that," he
apologised. "I know it wasn't easy for you."
Daniel thought he was being sincere. "It's
okay," he assured him. "Everyone was caught
up in the situation, what Lantash was trying
to say to Sam, obviously that was important
to her, and there was - there was Elliot."
He stumbled, his tongue twisting over the
name. "What was happening with him." He
didn't want to talk of it, didn't want to
think. His naïveté was everything Jack
always insisted it was and he had only his
own wilful blindness to blame. He saw what
he wanted to see, he got it wrong,
frighteningly wrong, trying to play the
mentor, and he wasn't going to be taken that
way again.
"Daniel?" Jack's hand was on his shoulder
again and he realised he'd almost stopped
them in their tracks.
"I'm okay," Daniel blurted. "It's okay.
Really." It was. He meant it to be. No more
losses. No more risks, not for him. He'd
finally, finally learned to be careful.
"You were ready to assassinate," Jack began.
"I didn't see you arguing the necessity,"
Daniel reminded him sharply. Teal'c had
assured himself Daniel saw the tactical
necessity of the mission and then he left it
alone. He must have been the one to draw the
short straw because Jack and Sam hadn't come
near Daniel before he left for the space
station. "Jacob was the one who, he, um."
"He what?" Jack prompted, steering him into
walking again.
"He asked if I were ready, if I could go
through with what had to be done." Daniel
smiled tensely in Jack's general direction.
"I think mostly he thought I'd freak or
something, screw it up."
"I think he cared about what it would do to
you," Jack countered gently, glancing at him
frequently as they walked.
"Then I guess he was the only one," Daniel
said matter-of-factly.
Jack looked away. There was a time he'd
cared about damned distasteful things, about
what they did to Daniel, and his caring had
showed.
"Maybe I'm being unfair," Daniel conceded.
"When it looked like the Goa'uld were
planning to make all the human slaves into
hosts as opposed to killing them, Jacob was
ready to get me out of there. He seemed
concerned about the chemical weapon falling
into Goa'uld hands. I guess I didn't give
him any choice about Osiris."
"Osiris?" Jack seemed surprised.
"Sarah was never there," Daniel admitted
uncomfortably, well aware of his sentimental
tendency to see host, not symbiote. "I tried
to reach her, to get her to fight, but that
was, it was just Osiris wearing her face."
"You were ready to kill her," Jack commented
with a certain empathy. He'd been there
himself. He'd been ready to kill Daniel, and
even Sam, when the situation demanded it. "I
read your mission report."
"I was out of options the moment I accepted
the mission. It took me some time, almost
too much time, to see that. I'm slow that
way. Saving Sarah's life wasn't a good which
could ever outweigh all the evil Osiris and
the other System Lords could do. Yes," he
answered Jack's point, "I was ready to kill
her. It's ironic the threat of Anubis was
what saved her life and all the others on
the space station."
"This isn't you," Jack said insistently,
frowning.
"Seeing the bigger picture? I thought you
read my mission report, Jack. That was me.
Pyjama Boy with the Poison Pill, right
there."
"You find another way."
"Not this time."
"Daniel, it's what you do," Jack countered
patiently.
"That was the way I found."
"You didn't let that stop you from trying to
save her when the situation changed, just
like you…"
"Pay attention, Jack," Daniel interrupted
crisply. "I failed. I often do."
"You've never let that stop you before. I,
er, I," Jack mumbled, "admire that about
you."
"I hadn't noticed," Daniel said dryly.
"You've been trying to get me to wise up for
years and when I finally buy into the
programme you've been peddling since the day
we met, big surprise here, I'm still wrong."
"Is that what you think of me?"
"I don't think it matters what I…"
"Because you're right."
"I - I - what?" Daniel stammered painfully,
shocked into silence, stumbling to a jarring
halt.
"You're right. You are. You're right about
me."
Daniel shook himself, struggling to
comprehend this astounding capitulation.
"I'm everything you say I am, probably
everything you think."
Daniel's eyes fluttered closed, he lifted a
hand to his head, fingers twining in his
hair. A childlike gesture he'd lost long
ago. Only Jack seemed to have the power to
move him this way, into helpless reaction.
"Are you, are you okay?" he asked, frowning
deeply, not ready yet to look.
"No." Jack took hold of Daniel's arms. "No,
not really."
"Can I help?" he offered gruffly, braced in
expectation of the usual rebuff.
"I feel like that's what I should be asking
you."
"I'm fine."
"I'm not." Jack was rubbing Daniel's arms,
with tentative gentleness, as if he were the
one expecting to be slapped down here. "I
don't think you are either."
Daniel was choked and resistant, stubbornly
refusing to give in to self-pity, not for a
moment, not for Jack, who hadn't cared so
much that he could remember. For a long
time. "It doesn't matter," Daniel said more
strongly, opening his eyes. All of Jack's
empathy, all of his friendship, had been
reserved for Teal'c and Sam. Daniel got
that. He got his place. He, he'd crossed a
line with Jack, he felt too much. Jack
hadn't exactly gone the positive
reinforcement route but Daniel learned his
lesson just the same. He backed off. "We
work together, Jack. The team functions. I
function. I see to it."
"There's more." Jack was flinching, like
he'd taken a blow.
"No." Daniel shrugged him off, uncomfortable
with having him this close. The whole
friendship thing? Well, he'd learned to see
their relationship with some basis in
reality. "We're colleagues, a little more."
The way Jack needed it to be. How could
Daniel argue? What they accomplished
together as SG-1 was worth far more than how
it made him feel to be so excluded.
It wasn't Jack's fault. It wasn't. Jack was
acting the only way he knew how to protect
the integrity of the team, to keep Daniel
part of it when his feelings…Daniel went too
far, he was the one. Of course Jack was
never going to share his attraction, not
Colonel Jack O'Neill, poster boy for the SGC
and the Asgard's feted favoured son. It was
just a - a stupid dream. Daniel thought he
knew the man but he wanted too much from
him, had passed limits he'd never known were
there. Feeling had blinded him.
Thoughts of Elliot, of where blindness took
him, knotted his gut.
Daniel knew better now.
"I'm fine," he said with finality. "If you
want to talk?" Shrugging, he left it open,
inviting, not like his life depended. He was
here, that was all.
Looking at last, seeing Jack's face, Daniel
swallowed regret with difficulty. It never
got easier for him and he knew this, he knew
the place where Jack was. He'd worn the same
stricken expression. Realisation was a
bitch. Jack couldn't touch, not now, and he
couldn't conveniently forget that only when
he needed the comfort of it.
"It's not the end of the world, Jack,"
Daniel assured him with mordant irony,
consciously referencing their mission.
Jack caught him around the waist, hauled him
up close, his P-90 crushed between them.
Staring at him, grey-faced, Jack tried to
say something, couldn't, wouldn't let Daniel
push him away.
Kissed him.
Oh, god, Jack's mouth on his, kissing him,
shaking and hard and not well, Daniel's arms
flung up around his neck, more in shock and
grief than feeling.
Jack's radio chirped and they jerked apart
violently, staggered and guilty.
Teal'c, checking in. They had to go back.
Daniel touched his stinging lips for a
moment, then turned away, hugging himself
and shivering in the clinging damp. He began
to walk back the way they came, back to the
ship and the team, to obligations and
limitations. Jack's hand came up to hug his
shoulder. Stayed there, as they walked. Jack
stayed close to him and Daniel couldn't
think.
They were back on board, gear safely stowed,
the control console between them before
Daniel breathed again. His mind cleared and
at last he could look at Jack, even if it
made him wince to do so. Jack was
shit-scared and painful but his eyes were
gentle. Despite the pounding pressure in his
chest, Daniel found he couldn't look away.
He had no idea what this meant, where Jack
wanted to go, where he…If it meant anything
at all. He was assuming. It was hard to keep
safe when Jack could kiss him and say more
with his mouth in moments than he had for
months.
They stood either side of the console,
stealing, sharing looks and not speaking.
Daniel wasn't fine, Jack knew it, Jack was
very far from fine. They weren't good at
talking and they'd kissed. Daniel was
horribly conscious, closer to Jack than he
had been for a long time and he didn’t know
what they were supposed to be to each other
now. Panic slithered.
"Okay. Guess we'll have to assume there
isn't one on board." Sam's furtive
pronouncement finally diverted Jack's
attention from Daniel as she came through
from the cargo bay.
"One what?" he demanded.
Daniel, feeling claustrophobic and terribly
exposed, picked nervously at an imaginary
speck of dust on the console.
"We're about ready to attempt an engine
start, Sir," she reported, not answering his
question.
"Yeah, fine. Assume there isn't one what?"
"Recall device," Sam admitted a trifle
reluctantly, looking down to avoid Jack's
eyes.
Daniel glanced at the engineers then back at
Jack to see how he was taking this
revelation.
"The X-301? That was you guys?" Jack glared,
pointing an aggravated finger. The engineers
seemed to be experiencing the same
difficulty with gravity Sam was. They were
looking at their boots too.
"You have to admit it performed beautifully
right up until the point you and Teal'c were
sent into deep space," Webber argued.
"Yeah," Jack grimaced, cataloguing faces and
names for his pain.
"Nice work," Daniel said sarcastically.
Webber didn't seem especially sensitive to
atmosphere but even his smile faded.
"Carter?" Jack prompted, rolling his eyes.
"Attempting engine start." Sam punched some
buttons on the jewel-like green control
thingie Jack kept trying to hypnotise
himself with. Some lights came on. The ship
hummed and vibrated. Then the lights went
off. Behind Sam, the engineers slumped,
deflating visibly.
Daniel straightened up, man enough to admit
he was, um, he was nervous here.
Sam's eyes closed.
"Carter?"
All of them staring at the green control
thingie, apparently willing it to come on,
Sam activated the controls again and this
time the lights stayed on. "That's got it,
Sir. We're good to go. I'll repair the
remaining systems on the way." She turned to
the engineers and gave them their orders as
Jack shared a pained look with Daniel. "Once
you get to the Revanna Gate, dial the Alpha
Site. They'll be expecting you."
"I think I speak for about six billion
people when I say good luck," Spellman told
them.
No pressure, Daniel thought. With this team
of self-proclaimed experts, he figured
they'd need all the luck they could get. It
wasn't exactly reassuring the fate of the
world was in those hands.
"I'm gonna want to talk to you guys!" Jack
called out as the engineers gratefully made
for the airlock and escape. He often had
that effect on people. At some point, they
really wanted to get away from him.
"Teal'c, try to take it easy on the engines
when we take off," Sam instructed.
"Why?" Daniel asked apprehensively,
stiffening. He had some very clear memories
from this ship, mostly to do with lack of
seat belts and what useful accessories they
could prove to be when one was plummeting
from the sky.
"Well, I'm just slightly concerned that if
we push them too hard and they burn out
before we reach escape velocity, that," Sam
hesitated, searching for the right words,
"we'll come crashing back to the planet."
Her smile in Daniel's direction was tight,
not reassuring, looking painted on.
"I'm confident," Daniel insisted, trying not
to dwell. He was uneasily aware of his
ignominious track-record as an individual
lightning tended to strike at least twice.
It was hard not to imagine there was more
plummeting from the sky in his immediate
future.
"Me too," Jack seconded him with about the
same level of conviction.
"As am I." In the pilot's seat, Teal'c
turned to prepare for take-off.
"We, um, we should've fitted seatbelts,"
Daniel remarked to no one in particular.
"Or seats," Jack complained, hanging on to
the control console as the vibrations
increased and the ship soared straight up.
Daniel's stomach sank to about ankle height
then tried to slam out his mouth. He grabbed
onto the console, his fingers finding
Jack's, and hung on for dear life as the
ship knifed through a torrent of sky into
dark. "Take it," Daniel gulped.
"Easy," Jack finished for him, squeezing his
fingers. "Smooth, big guy," he praised
Teal'c, "Very smooth."
Teal'c inclined his head in gracious
acknowledgement, activating an instrument
display as Sam went past Daniel to take the
co-pilot's chair. "Should I engage the
hyper-drive, Major Carter?" he enquired.
Sam got that smile again, the one that said
no, but she had to know now if the engines
were working and the repairs would hold.
"Punch it."
Space streaked in the now familiar
kaleidoscope of blues, spiralling before the
windows. After several tense seconds, the
ship continued to fail to explode.
Sam brightened up, flipping open her laptop
with the air of one vindicated. Teal'c
refused to demean himself with any show of
relief.
"Could I borrow a book?" Jack asked Daniel
with a strange, significant look.
"A book?" Off-balance to begin with, Daniel
was stupefied by this. He honestly didn't
know which was more surreal, Jack kissing
him or wanting to read his books.
Sam and Teal'c turned around as one.
"I read," Jack argued defensively, glaring
at them all.
"When?"
"Forget your batteries, Sir?" Sam asked
dryly.
"Fly the ship, Carter," Jack ordered,
reaching across to take Daniel's arm. "You
can practice your humour on Teal'c while
Daniel helps me pick out that book." He
towed Daniel away from the control console
into the cargo bay.
"I look forward to seeing you reading it,
Sir," Sam called after them.
The panic slithered right up Daniel's
throat, biting. He guessed it was better to
know now how big a mistake Jack had made
with him back there on the planet and what
it would take to put it behind them. Not
that he…well, it wasn't up to him. Jack had
been making this perfectly clear for months.
The ship's meagre living quarters were
squeezed into the stern behind the engines.
A small galley, the heads, two narrow living
spaces tucked between the bulkheads at port
and starboard, two tiers of broad
utilitarian bunks in both the outer
compartments, three tiers in the inner, each
with a washbasin, accommodation for ten crew
in all. This was the first Tok'ra ship
Daniel had been on which hadn't stripped out
the bunks for extra storage space or
weapons. He'd always slept on packing crates
before now.
Jack didn't say anything. Daniel, following,
wished he would, that they could break the
tension between them somehow, but they were
both doing about as well as before and he
felt a bit nauseous. When Jack randomly
opened one of the compartments, his fingers
clumsy on the keypad, Daniel hovered warily
at the entryway, much preferring to talk in
the larger space of the galley. Jack gave
him little choice, pulling him inside only
to turn him around and push him with curious
gentleness against the compartment wall. The
hatch slid closed behind them.
Daniel was breathing hard, so loud Jack had
to hear it. He didn't know whether to push
back, to free himself, or not. He couldn't
read Jack's mood the way he should and Jack
still wasn't talking. They were edgy and
staring, on the cusp of fighting, or backing
away, and then Jack's mouth was on his, the
arms carefully holding him against the wall
dropping to slide tightly around him.
The kiss wasn't gentle or passionate but it
made them both tremble and it felt to Daniel
as if Jack didn't know what he could do. As
Daniel wrapped arms around his neck, wanting
to hold him, Jack jerked back from him,
breaking off the kiss to look searchingly at
him. When Daniel reached up, though, he
lowered his face with more ease than before,
and they kissed again, rubbing their mouths
together.
Elliot had never kissed him. The thought
intruded, making him shiver. Afraid and
fighting it, he pushed at Jack, almost
shocked when he opened to him, took him into
his mouth. It shook them to taste each other
and they fell against the wall, Jack turning
fast so he was the one who hit. He held
Daniel so tight, so close to him, as if he
never meant to let go, almost rocking him as
they clung together. A careful, satin rasp
of sliding, tasting pressure and they
stroked tongues, a coil of heat licking
between them as well as panic. It was very
good, Daniel pushing into Jack, Jack pushing
back. They thrust together more strongly and
deeply, more certainly than before.
Daniel was charged, his heart jumping as he
rubbed his body into Jack's, hard, rangy
muscle and easy, practiced power very
arousing to him. The swell and throb of his
cock shocked a gasp from Jack despite the
answering bulge straining into him.
Jack pulled away from him, seeming
astonished by Daniel's wet, parted lips. "I
never did that before in my life," he grated
as if it were a cause for blame. He was
angry, but not at Daniel, who he was holding
as close as when they were kissing, leaning
the whole of his body into him, certain
Daniel would take his weight.
"You're the first man I've kissed too,"
Daniel told the truth steadily, struggling
to keep his difficult memories at bay.
Refusing to give in to his humiliation, he
whispered his lips over Jack's. "What are we
doing?" he sighed, more confused than ever.
"You're asking me?" Jack barked out a
humourless laugh. "I can't do this," he
pleaded, his face hovering so close to
Daniel's, close enough to kiss, and looking
like he wanted to. "I can't want you the way
I do."
Hurt, unable to help himself, Daniel
stiffened up and tried to back away, the
panic rising again to choke him.
Jack let go of him only to lean forward and
take his mouth, kiss him again, more softly
than before. With Jack's hands held stiffly
at his sides, Daniel could have broken the
kiss at any time. He didn't, maybe couldn't,
taking Jack's confusion for what it was,
hesitantly accepting of the honesty being
offered him. Jack deepened the pressure at
his mouth, slipped gently into him as he
stepped closer and again wound tentative
arms around his neck. Jack held him then,
kissing him tenderly, with great warmth.
They were both turned on, hips butting
restless friction. It made more sense to
kiss than to talk and they stayed close,
stayed gentle, tasting one another's mouths
for what seemed to them a long time.
"We should go back," Daniel prompted
dutifully, reluctantly pushing away from
Jack, who let him go this time, fingers
trailing down his arms and lingering over
his hands until they slipped from the tips
of his fingers. His throat tightened at the
unexpected gesture. "Sam and Teal'c will
wonder."
"Let them," Jack interrupted quietly.
"Then we should go into the galley."
It was the smart thing to do, though it
darkened the frown on Jack's face. They
could talk there and it wouldn't look so…it
wouldn't be compromising. They were both
aroused and ready for more than kissing but
it wasn't going to happen. They would have
to sit and wait out their aching bodies.
The galley had a small table, fixed to the
floor, a bench to either side. There was
another basin, waste disposal, a storage
unit for whatever rations the Jaffa
escorting the cargo would've been supplied
with. Looking pained, Jack sat first, Daniel
walking around to sit, with equal care,
opposite him, where he could see his face.
"I'm attracted to you," Jack launched in
with preamble, about as happy as a man going
to the electric chair. "That's what this
is."
"I think we've established I'm attracted to
you too."
"I didn't know," Jack said quickly, almost
anxious Daniel believed him.
"Y-y-you didn't?" Daniel stammered, his face
flaming. "Then what?" he asked, bewildered.
"What went so wrong between us?"
"It was me." Jack glared down at the dull
metal of the table top. "What I wanted." He
clasped his hands together, held them still,
staring at them. "I freaked," he said
flatly, not offering it as an excuse, but a
bare statement of fact.
"You're still freaked."
Jack's lips twitched. "Yeah. You too."
"All this time, I thought," Daniel said
painfully. "I…"
"It was me," Jack interrupted.
"I got that."
They sat in tight silence for a minute or
so, finding it difficult to speak or look
away. Daniel found it difficult to even
think.
"I'm not sure how to take this, Jack," he
said at last, speaking out mostly because
Jack couldn't. "I thought you knew I was
attracted to you, that you didn't, you
couldn't…" He hated having to talk about
this. "That we didn't feel the same."
"I didn't know how you felt. I didn't even
know you were interested in sex," Jack said
miserably. "You never…"
"You didn't want to know!" Daniel
interrupted sharply, stung. He was slow, he
always had been to see how people felt about
him, but he was finding some small focus
amid all these shocks to the system. He
wasn't about to allow Jack to shift blame
onto him. "You cared about yourself."
Jack was shaking his head, glancing up
fleetingly, his dark eyes troubled. "I cared
more for you than for anything. Anything,"
he said again, almost grimly, his clasped
fingers tightening.
"You felt too much?" Daniel strove to make
sense of this. He had held back from being
honest with Jack because he believed it
would be unwelcome and hurtful. He'd hoped
he hadn't been thinking of himself, that it
wasn't cowardice. It distressed him Jack's
motives for keeping him away were so
self-centred.
"I'm in love with you."
The devastation in the dignified promise
punched out Daniel's heart, left him drained
and clammy and trembling. He had no time to
respond, Sam's voice rising teasingly above
Teal'c's bass rumble as they strolled around
from the engine compartment.
"Finished your book already, Colonel?"
Jack straightened like he had a poker up his
spine, made some grumpy retort to Sam which
Daniel didn't hear, his mind racing. Jack
was career military, he was trying to tell
Daniel his feelings for him overturned all
the standards by which he'd lived his adult
life, his whole belief system. Jack was far
more rigid about these things than Daniel,
slower to change if he would embrace change
at all, and he was afraid. Speaking out this
way, confronting his feelings, it was as
right for him as it was wrong.
Daniel found he could empathise with Jack's
devastation, and more than that, he could
respect it. He stretched out his foot,
nudging him. When he glanced up, Daniel
managed something by way of a smile, hoping
it was enough. Jack's response was nothing
more than a slow blink, but some of the
strain was gone from his eyes.
Teal'c helped Sam to open the crate of MREs
and she made the old joke she trotted out
now and then about them tasting better than
her cooking.
"I'll go grab my stuff," Jack said
mechanically, swinging his legs clear of the
bench and walking away before anyone had a
chance to comment.
"Chicken Tetrazzini?" Sam offered
doubtfully, proffering a foil pack.
"Whatever," Daniel said unenthusiastically.
Teal'c sat opposite him and began his
methodical extraction of the manicotti meal
he'd selected. He always did this with a
deliberation which sometimes maddened
Daniel, removing each item he needed and
placing it precisely to hand, in its
allotted space on whatever flat surface was
available. Only when he'd gathered
everything required to assemble his entrée
would he begin to heat it, and that had its
own routine too. Daniel knew which order the
items would be removed from the packaging,
which order they would be eaten in, exactly
when Teal'c would take his first sip of the
apple juice which came with this menu.
"You ever think we spend too much time
together?" Daniel asked gloomily, not
particularly looking for an answer. It was
second nature to him to carry on
conversations like this one no matter what
he was feeling or how badly he wanted to be
left alone. The instinct of denial was so
strong in him, he doubted he would ever
break it. Only Jack had ever come close
enough to see behind the mask, and those
times were past.
"You tell me," Sam replied briskly, pushing
one MRE over to Daniel, another to the empty
place beside him where she'd just decided
Jack would sit, then she went back for her
own. She liked them to do this, to eat the
same food. It wasn't conscious on her part,
it was just, for her, what families did.
They sat together, talked and shared a meal.
As often as not, Jack would put back
whatever he was given and choose something
else, but that was Jack.
"Looks as if you'll have to fight the
colonel for the top bunk." Sam slid
elegantly onto the bench beside Teal'c,
grinning as Daniel craned around in time to
see Jack sauntering into the far compartment
where he'd put his own books and belongings
earlier.
Daniel was taken aback Jack would simply
move into his quarters in full view of
everyone. There was absolutely no need for
them to share and no reasonable excuse to
offer if Sam or Teal'c commented on this
strange lapse, which seemed likely after
months of edgy distance between the two of
them. It wasn't as if they'd been living in
one another's pockets. That said, he
wouldn't put it past Jack to swagger up to
the table and announce they'd kissed and
made up.
Annoyed and embarrassed by Jack's
indiscretion and, frankly, his presumption,
Daniel attacked his MRE, a real snap to his
impatient fingers. As willing as he was to
hear whatever Jack had to say to him, to
help in any way he could, he hadn't offered
or intended to share his space. He needed
his privacy, now more than ever. Sleep was
not easy for him just now. There were too
many memories and they were too near. He
didn't want Jack - he didn't want anyone…No
one would know. No one.
He didn't look up when Jack came back to the
table, he went on getting his meal ready to
boil. There were limits to how ordinary, how
fine he could seem for others, even with his
long years of pretence and obfuscation.
"You found a book?" Sam was amazed.
Daniel looked up at that.
"Auden," Jack replied casually. "Way cool."
"What is Auden?" Teal'c wanted to know.
"Not what, who," Jack corrected him, putting
the book down in a spot between himself and
Daniel. "He's a poet."
"I was reading this book," Daniel
complained, his fingers twitching along the
table.
"Now I'm reading it too."
"You like Auden?" Daniel challenged.
"Adore him."
"Seriously," Daniel insisted, tired of
bickering.
"I picked out the book," Jack shrugged.
"You read poetry?" Sam was staring at Jack,
fascinated.
"He saw 'Four Weddings And A Funeral',"
Daniel countered dryly, wise in the ways of
Jack. "Andie MacDowell."
"Ah." Sam lost interest in the book.
"I am familiar with that name," Teal'c
commented as he took a cautious mouthful of
manicotti.
"Auden?"
"MacDowell." Teal'c selected his salt-free
seasoning blend, tore off a neat corner, and
evenly distributed the contents of the
sachet. He liked to keep them hanging on his
every word. "She portrayed a nun in a
humorous motion picture."
"Andie MacDowell played a nun?" Jack
appeared to have difficulty taking this in.
"She was funny?" Sam muttered, rolling her
eyes in pained disbelief.
"Most amusing," Teal'c insisted firmly.
"Are you thinking of Roddy McDowall?" Daniel
suggested, trying to puzzle this out.
"Because you're worth it!" Sam twittered
obscurely at her chicken before vindictively
spearing it.
"Not a fan, I take it?" Jack asked her
sarcastically.
"Oh, she's not nearly as annoying as Milla
Jojobabitch," Sam conceded generously,
stabbing again.
"What was the movie?" Daniel asked Teal'c,
wondering where SG-1's six degrees of
separation were taking them, and if Jack
could work in Mary Steenburgen someplace. He
usually did.
"It was entitled 'Hudson Hawk,'" Teal'c
replied calmly.
Gaping, Jack sat back, almost falling off
the bench in righteous indignation. "How in
hell did you get to see that pile of
steaming cinematic shit, buried alive in the
mountain? About three people saw that
movie!"
"Two of them at this table," Sam commented
dryly. She caught Jack's eye. "Sir."
"Armageddon," Daniel interrupted, playing
his part, distressed how easy he found it
when all he wanted was to bury his confusion
under a heap of warm blankets and not come
out until the world ended. "Six degrees of
separation from W.H. Auden to Armageddon.
Although, to be fair, most of them are Bruce
Willis."
"Was that the movie they blew up Paris?"
Jack enquired.
"No, no," Daniel corrected him, almost giddy
at the crap he could spout without thinking
about it, without anyone seeing…no one ever
seemed to know how he was feeling. Or even
to care. It wasn't too much to ask, was it,
that his friends would know when he was
lying, when he was hurting and babbling and
hiding from them. He didn't want to be
better at this than they were. "I think that
was the other movie where Earth faced
imminent destruction from a rogue asteroid
hurtling towards it. Lots more slow-mo.
Bruce Willis cried." Jack should know Daniel
was hurting. He should.
"If I inflicted 'Hudson Hawk' on the
unsuspecting filmgoer, I'd cry too," Jack
sneered.
"Theoretically, it's possible an alien
species could receive a transmission of
'Hudson Hawk' as their first contact with
the peoples of Earth," Sam speculated,
visibly daunted by this prospect.
"Maybe that's why none of 'em will take our
calls," Jack suggested darkly. "The poor
bastards are already on re-run."
"Save the world which gave you 'Hudson
Hawk'?" Daniel obediently took his cue, just
like he always did, his heart aching,
confused resentment insensibly dulling.
"It makes a terrible kind of sense," Jack
decided after a moment of solemn
contemplation of Earth's intergalactic
karma. "More sense than that stupid
Protected Planets crap they keep boning us
with."
"Maybe we should forget about the NID and
take on TV Guide," Daniel suggested
ironically.
Sam shook her head as if to clear it,
staring at them wonderingly. "How do we end
up on these bizarre conversational
tangents?"
"It's Daniel's fault," Jack said firmly.
"It's his book."
"Finally, something we agree on," Daniel
replied promptly, launching a rescue bid.
Somehow, what he ended up holding was mostly
Jack's hand. His fingers were taken in a
strong clasp, pinned to the table top as
Jack made a production out of perusing his
literary booty, to Sam's great amusement.
Heart slamming against his ribs, all Daniel
knew was that Jack had found a way to reach
out to him. It should have been reassuring,
it was meant to be, but Daniel found it
draining. He was exhausted, Jack had no
idea, everything in him braced for a fight.
He didn't know what he would do if that
fight didn't come, he didn't have the
strength for anything but stubborn
resistance. Jack's sudden empathy was
killing. There were too many times he could
have reached out to Daniel, and he hadn't.
He was relieved when Sam steered the
conversation back to the mission and the
engine diagnostics she was running with
Teal'c's assistance, the system repairs she
still had to complete. For once, Jack let
her prattle on, eating absently, the book
open by him and his mind clearly elsewhere.
Yawning, Sam excused herself, hinting that
she would sleep, but really headed for an
all-nighter with her laptop. She smiled at
Daniel's offer of help, anything he could
do, squeezing his shoulder gratefully as she
walked past him, with a murmured joke about
the dishes when he took her trash and his
own. He dealt with it, then quietly slipped
away, longing for a few moments of solitude.
Jack was probably watching him, but he
didn't look back.
Inside the sleeping compartment, he took off
his glasses then stood there with them in
his hand, looking blankly across at his
books and tools, now neatly stowed on the
top bunk along with Jack's gear. He was
completely out of it for a moment. It hardly
seemed possible to him the world could end
while Jack was so blatantly, so
unapologetically obsessing over bedding him
he was making all the moves where the whole
damn team could see them. If they cared to
look.
Daniel got it together enough to make it
over to the basin, to wash and brush his
teeth, to strip down to his baggy regulation
issue boxers and t-shirt, and clamber under
the blankets, limbs leaden and trembling. He
hadn't slept enough since it had happened,
smothered by a specific weight and touch,
his skin crawling from intimacy he either
remembered or imagined. He didn't know.
Eyes on the door, he guessed he was waiting.
Huddled into the weight of the blankets,
feeling heat everywhere but in his skin,
Daniel drifted, his mind on Jack. He'd been
in love with his friend for a long time, he
carried scars from being so alone with his
feelings. Jack wanted to be with him now, a
reality he could hardly take in. Whatever
Daniel had, whatever Jack wanted, he would
give. They both knew this. Yet there was no
anger in him, just a quiet, shivering
fatalism. He'd given up hope only to find
Jack loved him back, and he couldn't think
beyond this. It wasn't easy to admit, but
he, he hurt.
The compartment door hissed open, he wasn't
sure how much time had passed, but Jack was
there, coming straight to him like nothing
else mattered.
"I didn't want you left alone," Jack
apologised, crouching down by the bunk.
"There's been too much of that." He reached
out and smoothed the blanket, his hand
ghosting up to touch Daniel's face. "I want
to be with you. Can I?" he asked softly, a
real choice offered in his gentle eyes. He
was ready to be banished to the top bunk and
not bitch about it.
Daniel had missed this look of Jack's,
missed it so much.
"I don't expect," Jack began hesitantly,
tweaking at the blanket. "I mean. Er." He
stumbled into wincing silence, then let out
a gusting breath. "It's not about jumping
your bones," he explained hurriedly,
beginning to look anxious when Daniel didn't
respond. "I wish you'd yell at me," he
grumbled. "Something. I'd know what to…"
"I don't have the energy," Daniel
interrupted, hitching back against the wall
to make room.
Jack fleetingly touched his face again, then
backed off to briskly shuck his boots and
BDUs, clearly not about to push his luck. He
slid beneath the blankets without fuss,
turning onto his side and reaching for
Daniel, pulling him up close and holding him
tight. "Jesus, you're frozen."
Daniel was cold, and his body felt stiff and
difficult. It wasn't easy for him to do, but
he reached out to rest a tentative hand on
Jack's waist, tucking the other neatly
beneath his chin. He could hardly breathe;
it was all Jack and questions, questions.
"Not how I imagined our first time in bed
together," Jack observed with conscious
irony, wrapping his legs around Daniel's,
bringing him closer, closer. "Making like a
hot water bottle instead of making out." His
watchful eyes never left Daniel's, worry
etching deep lines. All the fight had gone
out of Daniel, and he knew it. Jack was
scared.
"I want to trust this," Daniel whispered.
"You can," Jack promised almost angrily.
"It's done, Daniel. I'm done." He moved his
face closer, asking for a kiss, then taking
it anyway, frighteningly tender, his strong,
capable body cradling, warming, protective.
Daniel wanted to kiss, he wanted heat and
Jack and a quiet mind. He wanted to know
Jack loved him. He slipped his fingers out
from beneath his chin, touched them to
Jack's cheek. Had to swallow another lump in
his throat when Jack consciously nuzzled
against his fingers, inviting, offering
more.
"Anything," Jack whispered. Another promise.
Lines furrowed Jack's throat, his skin, the
marks of his life, some for joy, many not.
He was aged and tanned by weather, by long,
hard experience and the damned distasteful
things men do to one another. He was ugly
inside at times, dark and angry, and that
showed too. Daniel knew all the parts of
him, accepted. His cold fingers trembled
against Jack's lips, speaking with the force
of touch, of possibility and love.
Jack was rubbing Daniel's back, doing his
best to soothe, to reassure, but his body
was confused and wanting, reacting with
arousal to Daniel's nearness.
Understanding that he had some power here,
Daniel kissed Jack slowly, tasting him,
touching him, reaching up to hold his head,
to stroke soft silvering hair he'd coveted.
Jack was hot and hard against him,
trembling, taking anything Daniel did to
him. He shuddered when Daniel pushed up his
t-shirt to bare and stroke his belly, his
throat arching. And yet, there was a look in
his eyes, a careful, contained gentleness in
him that said Daniel might break if he
pushed.
Daniel never did break.
There was some heat in him now, from Jack's
mouth and Jack's hands, some strength. He
pushed his thigh up, rubbing himself against
the bulge at Jack's crotch. Jack's confused
jerk pleased him and he pushed some more,
tugging the t-shirt up, up, clenched in his
fist as he kissed the lined throat, then
down, rubbing his face into coarse grey hair
and warm skin. A sigh welled up, sorrow and
pleasure, the confusion of loss and gain.
His fingers roamed blind, greedy, swiping
across a nipple. Jack jerked again, grating
out Daniel's name in protest.
Ignoring this, wanting more, Daniel moved
back to give himself room to pull off his
own t-shirt. Jack's eyes flared, a shaken
hand dancing over Daniel's bared chest to be
snatched back, knotted in the blankets.
Fisting the t-shirt bunched at Jack's
throat, Daniel hauled him face to face.
"Still holding back?"
Jack's face burned with a surge of feeling
far beyond this consuming control he was
exerting. He jerked free of Daniel's hold,
rearing up to yank the t-shirt over his head
and toss it and then he was moving, all of
his weight coming down on top of Daniel, a
shaking, clenched mouth ravishing him with
tenderness.
Daniel didn't break, he never knew why, he
didn't break and he could kiss, he kissed
Jack back with everything he had. Elliot was
here, but not in this weight, not in this
touch. Part of him was deadened and for that
he had to push his body, he had to know
nothing was more real than the ache in his
balls and the pulse of his cock. His love.
Passivity panicked and he pushed out again,
shoving at another smothering layer, hands
snaking down to grab at Jack's bare ass.
"Easy, Daniel, easy," Jack breathed.
Nothing was easy. His fingers bit glorious
flesh, trying to pull Jack into him, into
his very bones, humping his crotch against a
sharp, protruding hip, a fold of fabric
rubbing, rubbing…
Jack braced himself and lifted clear,
leaning all his weight on one elbow as he
took Daniel's face into his other hand and
held him, stilling his confused protest with
a hushing thumb stroked over his lips.
Daniel reached up convulsively, closed his
fingers over Jack's.
"I want you," he said clearly.
"Daniel…"
"I love you."
Jack's weight was awkward across him, but he
reached regardless, began to push his shorts
down, a clear, simple visual. His cock
sprang free and he fisted his erection
tightly, his eyes fixed on Jack. "I need
this. I need you." He was hoarse and
pleading, shuddering from a wet mouth
ghosting, gulping down his come, and these
eyes, these hot brown eyes, Jack wanting him
so bad, devouring him…
His Jack.
"I need you." Raw, he was raw and scalded
inside, humiliation, Eliot and the deadening
fear. "Jack, please." Please. He was losing
himself. He hurt, he hurt inside. He had to
know Jack, to know what was real.
"Trust me," Jack said roughly, from a
confusion of shifting weight, clumsy,
exaggerated care and echoing, tinny
distance.
Daniel was hot at last, hot and quaking all
through, sweat pouring, stinging his eyes
and pooling in the small of his back, his
face buried in a hard, stale pillow. Jack's
hands, though. Jack's heavy, rough-gentle
hands and the murmuring sound of his voice,
loving, soothing words that struck, taking
Daniel to all the empty spaces Jack could've
been, if he'd been stronger.
Loneliness was an honest pain he clung to,
like the pain of Jack's trembling, ignorant
fingers reaching, stabbing inside him.
Bourbon slipped like silk over his tongue,
honeyed words sounded, fucking was blinding,
practiced taking in his nightmares, fear and
confusion wound around his throat, stifling
his voice.
Reality was Jack, wanting him and hurting
him, asking and asking. Reality didn’t slip
away when he tried to touch it, he couldn't
push it away. He sweated and panted through
it all, aching with love for Jack, still raw
and still pleading when he slowly pushed
inside him. A whimper of inarticulate
astonishment sounded, then Jack buried his
cock in several short, staccato thrusts with
all his weight behind them, and frantic
kisses to Daniel's neck and shoulders.
Daniel burned, oh, god, he burned, he
couldn't breathe for it, his whole body
clenched against the pain and Jack
incoherently sorry, face buried in the
pillow beside his, rubbing against his
cheek, hurting with him. Daniel felt. He
felt everything. The slam of his heart
against his ribs, Jack's skin on his, hair
and muscle between his legs, the pulse and
throb of steely heat inside him, soft,
remorseful kisses.
He had rarely felt so alive, so, so certain
as this. He turned his head and took Jack's
mouth, tried to give back a little of what
Jack was giving him.
A choice.
"I hurt you," Jack bit out, horrified at
himself. "I don't know what the hell I'm
doing."
"Making love."
"Daniel!"
"Kiss me, Jack."
"Daniel…"
"Trust me."
"I'm hurting you."
"Not now." It was true, his body was
quieting, easing everywhere around Jack. He
thought they could fit, the two of them.
They were starting to. "Please, Jack."
Daniel stole another kiss, watching Jack's
angry, blame-filled face soften. "You don't
know what it means to me just to be able to,
to touch you," he said gruffly.
"I think I do, Daniel," Jack promised
caressingly, his eyes melting. "I love you,
y'know?"
"I'm beginning to," Daniel said quietly.
Part of him knew he was pushing Jack, and
himself, too far, taking them from one
extreme to another, but he didn't want to
stop. He wanted this commitment, this, this
sharing. He wanted to trust.
"You tell me," Jack whispered, "You tell me
what feels good for you, Daniel." He eased
himself up to wrap his arms around Daniel's
chest, hugging him close as he rocked slim
hips, cock softly rubbing deep inside.
There was no pain, not now, only warmth as
Daniel relaxed consciously, by careful
degree, beneath Jack's weight and constant,
reassuring touch, lassitude as he gave
himself over to their slow, gentle
lovemaking and the sound of his name,
murmured by Jack again and again, whispered
into his hair and against his skin, breathed
into his mouth as they kissed.
Voice like velvet, Jack shattered Daniel
with the love he'd hidden for so long. He
said Daniel's name like it really meant
something to him, a different tone, a
different weight each time, until Daniel
finally understood he meant everything to
him, everything. Jack was with him now,
nothing held back from him.
Jack loved him.
Daniel wanted to trust that more than
anything. He wanted to have the strength for
it.
Jack finally caved to temptation and hitched
across the narrow gap separating them to
spoon against Daniel's back. He was touched
when Daniel took his arm and tucked it more
comfortably beneath his own.
"I don't know what I should to say to you,
Daniel," he confessed.
Nothing was going according to expectation.
Jack hadn't been in control since he first
grabbed Daniel and kissed him. Whatever
metaphorical white charger he thought he was
riding in on, Daniel wasn't looking to Jack
for any kind of quick-fix rescue. He'd
knocked Jack right on his ass and this, what
they were to each other now, this was going
to take work. Jack was grimly hanging in
because despite all the ways he was screwing
up, Daniel wanted him.
The last, absolutely the last thing he'd
intended was to have sex with Daniel.
Daniel, damaged in ways Jack hadn't looked
for, but needing him anyway. He couldn't
evade responsibility, couldn't shift blame
with Daniel focused so relentlessly on him.
This was all on him. He'd come inside this
man, his friend, hurt him taking pleasure,
too much pleasure when he was the only one,
and it killed him to have Daniel so low, so
beaten he was grateful for that lousy excuse
for sex.
Daniel was better for it, somehow, a little
better, and Jack didn't know what to do with
that. Nothing he knew seemed to apply. "I
don't know about men," he blurted out, then
cringed from the stupidity of this
pronouncement. "I don't know about you," he
elaborated, pissed at himself for being so
crass and incapable.
"I'll tell you." It was a promise, and
Daniel finally turned his head so Jack could
see him and amazingly, dear god, he was
smiling, the first smile Jack had had from
him in forever. "It's okay, Jack." He took
hold of Jack's hand, squeezed it. "Really."
"It's not okay," Jack countered roughly. His
body still sang with orgasm but he'd had to
finish Daniel with his hand, later, too much
time later, and with difficulty. Even though
Daniel had seemed to like having Jack's
hands on him, it felt, it felt perfunctory.
Nothing like he'd meant when he gave in to
his desire. He'd wanted to show Daniel it
could be good with someone who loved him,
that love made the difference, only to find
love had made no difference to ignorance.
He was proud, fiercely proud Daniel hadn't
seized up on him, hadn't freaked. The man he
loved was a fighter, not a victim, a
stubborn bastard who drove him insane.
Daniel was down, so down he needed Jack, but
he was still fighting, still knocking Jack
off-balance. He was the one who'd called the
shots, who'd wanted to go on with making
love when Jack would've stopped.
"It's not always about you," Daniel said
softly, hesitantly, meaning more, far more
than he guessed Jack knew.
Jack arms closed tightly around him, a
protective reflex he couldn't get the better
of, and didn't want to, and he kissed a
cool, bare shoulder. Daniel couldn't sleep,
he wasn't that secure, but he seemed okay to
just drift, and for Jack to be with him.
"I," Daniel began again, "I was maybe
looking for something, something different
than you. Than what you expected." He was
painfully reluctant to hint even that much.
Jack was disappointed, and relieved, at his
exclusion. He had no right to want a trust
he knew in his gut he had to earn, but he
was a greedy sonovabitch, and he wanted
everything of Daniel, even his pain. He knew
there was nothing he could say about Elliot,
nothing he could allow to show. He would
crush Daniel with it. All he could do for
him was take care.
"I'm trying to accept that," he said softly,
because Daniel needed him to. "But I wanted
it to be better for you. To be good, good
for both of us."
"Jack, I…"
"It has to be better for you," Jack
insisted, glad his voice came out kind. He
meant it kindly.
"It will get better."
Mentally supplying 'because it couldn't be
worse', Jack sighed, trying not to be stung
the only thing they seemed to have got out
of lovemaking was lowered expectation. He
knew his own propensity for making
everything about him, but he was struggling,
really struggling to understand how poor sex
could've brought Daniel to this quiet place
he was in right now. Lashing himself because
he felt he'd only compounded what Elliot had
done was pointless. Daniel didn't want his
guilt, refused, in fact, to let him off any
kind of hook by accepting it. "You are such
a pain in the ass," he sighed, surrendering
ungracefully to the maturity demanded of
him, because it was the only way. He'd kept
back so much, he had no choice but to give
now.
"You're a grumpy old bastard," Daniel
retorted with sneaking fondness.
"You love me?" Jack asked, despite himself.
He smiled when Daniel's only response was a
shy, speaking squeeze of the hand he was
still holding onto. "You've got no sense at
all," he mourned, daring to tease, to try to
lighten the mood a little. He had his reward
for giving in when Daniel let out a small,
contented murmur, leaning into him for the
first time, instead of just letting him hold
him.
"Don't go resting on those laurels too
soon," Daniel advised him firmly. "I plan to
make you work."
"Looking forward to it," Jack said promptly.
He didn't need to be told he hadn't merely
made a commitment here, he was in completely
over his head. His ass was grass and Daniel
was the mower. He was doing pretty good with
that; it fit his sense of the rightness of
things. It was balance. Reparation. Whatever
you wanted to call it. He reached out,
stroking Daniel's silky hair. "You're
necessary to me," he said quietly. "I know
you don't get that, I know I haven't given
you cause, but you are. I don't, I really
don't know what I'd do without you."
"I want to trust that, Jack."
Daniel had said this to him, earlier, but
there was something new in his voice now,
comprehension maybe, and a fugitive warmth.
Daniel was speaking to him from a different
place than before and he didn't pretend to
understand it. He was only grateful to have
made a difference, however small.
"Did I? Did we do something?" he asked
hesitantly, hoping.
"We made love."
"That needs work," Jack said instantly.
"Lots of work."
"Looking forward to it," Daniel echoed him
naughtily.
They were lovers now? Was that it? Was that
enough? Jack thought the sex was a horrible,
unlooked for complication but he wasn't
always right about these things. He tried
again to think what sex could mean to Daniel
and it finally occurred to him that he
wasn't the only one here who knew he was in
over his head. "You've got me," he
recognised slowly. "You've got me right
where you want me and you know it." Daniel
looked around at Jack, lips twitching when
he sarcastically crooked his little finger.
"Got me wrapped around this," Jack grumbled.
He smiled then. "You've no idea what you're
letting yourself in for," he informed Daniel
smugly. "All the stuff you hated about me
when we were just friends? You have to take
it from the guy you're sleeping with, you
have to roll with it."
"I don't have to…" Daniel started to argue,
showing pleasing signs of firing up.
"Me," Jack said gleefully. "Me with all the
brakes off." He planted a gloating kiss on
Daniel's resistant pout and gathered him
into an outrageous hug. "I get to take care
of you. I get to love you." He sobered then,
burying his face in Daniel's hair. "I get to
love you," he said again.
His choice was
made, irrevocable. He was damned if he
wasn't going to give it his all. How could
he give anything less when he knew what this
meant for him? He was a different man than
he'd always believed himself to be and he
felt the loss of what was being stripped
away. But out of that he'd found what was
necessary to him and it was up to him to
make what good he could of that. He couldn't
lose Daniel, that was his absolute, that
defined him now. In all his life, he'd
affected others, they'd changed for him and
that had cost him everything he'd loved. He
could see a balance there now in the changes
he would have to effect in himself to make
this work with Daniel. There was loss, but
he'd learned something too, and he had to
move on. "I'm done, Daniel, I'm done."
"You said that before."
"Maybe in time you'll believe it."
"I do." Daniel turned onto his back, then
turned again so he was facing Jack. "I'm
starting to." He kissed Jack softly on the
mouth then slid closer to him, nuzzling into
his face, his hands cupping Jack's head.
"But you'll have to tell me why, Jack. I
need to know. I need to understand what
changed for you."
"I changed."
Daniel kissed his cheek, his brow. "That's
not enough," he said directly.
"Making me work for it, huh?"
Daniel kissed him consolingly.
"I really hate the way you insist on talking
about things. I hate talking," Jack
complained in martyred tones. "Not talking
is what cost me most of what's important in
my life."
It was a start.
A solid, stinging smack to his face jerked
Jack awake. Disoriented, he reacted
defensively, grabbing the flailing hand to
pin it across his chest. He realised what he
was doing when Daniel's entire body lurched,
thudding into the compartment wall. Daniel
let out a terrible, stifled sound that
shifted Jack into a fast, scrambling roll
from under the blankets onto his knees
beside the bunk, instinctively getting his
intrusive ass the hell away until Daniel
could bring himself all the way out of his
nightmare and actually take in where he was
and who was with him.
Jack offered what help he could think of,
reaching across to touch Daniel's shoulder
and say his name, feeling a fist in his
chest when Daniel literally cringed away
from him. He could only kneel there by the
bunk, watching while Daniel gasped for
breath, then broke away from the wall he was
huddled against. He stumbled past Jack as if
he weren't there and stood poker-backed,
lost, looking vacantly down at the floor.
When Jack stood and took hold of Daniel's
arms, he shied violently from him, unable to
meet his gaze, visibly humiliated and
distressed by his nudity. "I'm with you,"
Jack offered compassionately, not able to
come up with a single other reassuring
platitude he could offer.
"I, I," Daniel stammered, "I need…"
Jack let go, looked around, stooped, scooped
and handed him his shorts without a word,
then backed off to sit on the edge of the
bunk while Daniel dressed. He carefully
stared down at his feet, giving Daniel what
little privacy he could. He didn't try to
say anything else because Daniel just wanted
to get the hell away from him, lick his
wounds alone for a few seconds precious to
his dignity.
Even though he was expecting it, it hurt
when Daniel walked away from him, but it was
also a truth about them Jack had to accept.
He didn't know Daniel well enough to be
allowed in, not for this. Not now and
realistically maybe not ever. Daniel was too
private, too reserved to be anything but
crucified by this cruel exposure of his fear
and vulnerability. There might have been a
time he would've trusted Jack, his friend,
with his rape, but he wasn't up to trusting
the sudden stranger he was having sex with.
Jack wasn't sure Daniel was up to trusting
anything, maybe ever again.
After a while, he got up and put on his
shorts and t-shirt, picked up Daniel's tee,
then went out after him. There was nowhere,
literally nowhere to go on a ship this size,
no possibility Daniel could hide from him.
Daniel hadn't even attempted it. He was
sitting slumped at the galley table, his
face buried in his arms. Jack walked over
and sat down on the bench beside him, saying
nothing, but reaching out to hold his
shoulder again, ready to sit until Daniel
remembered he was once a friend, and could
still be.
He didn't know what he would do if Daniel
didn't talk to him.
Actually, he didn't know what he would do if
Daniel did.
He was pretty fucking useless, when it came
right down to it.
Daniel's skin was clammy. Jack slid the
t-shirt across in front of him where he
would see it when he was ready to surface,
and kept on patiently rubbing his shoulder,
not demanding anything, just letting Daniel
know he was here, he would be here for as
long as needed.
It frustrated him there was nothing he could
do to make this less traumatic or
confrontational when Daniel finally did
surface. He couldn't give Daniel a
distraction, composure time disguised by the
making of coffee or grabbing a cold beer,
there was no deck or balcony to walk out on,
no yard to pace, nothing to do but sit here
and face the situation.
It sucked.
Sex was a horrible complication.
"Thanks."
Jack didn't have time to react to the
comment before he was shrugged off, Daniel
suddenly up, up and moving, reaching for his
t-shirt with unsteady hands, pulling it over
his head, smoothing, smoothing some more,
emerging ruffled and pale, a gritted-teeth
smile bared in Jack's general direction.
"Don't," Jack pleaded involuntarily. "Don't
pretend you're alright." Don't shut me out.
"Please, Daniel." It upset him to be
performed for, as if he were a stranger. He
reached out, caught at Daniel's cheek as he
would've turned away, held him still. "It's
okay," he assured him vehemently. He
couldn't say he wanted to carry some of
Daniel's load but that didn't mean he wasn't
ready to do it. "I don't want you to let me
off the hook." Not this time.
Daniel pulled away from him, blinking in
confusion. He still didn't seem to be
completely with it and he closed his eyes
now, head tilted while he thought Jack's
offer through. "A nightmare," he admitted
huskily, after a long, deliberate pause that
had Jack at screaming point.
Jack's mouth was open to offer a prompt, or
an out, he didn't know which, and he snapped
his trap shut, mentally kicking himself.
This was not, it was not about him!
"I, I had a nightmare," Daniel said again,
more certainly and most definitely
uncommunicatively.
"Can't you trust me?" Jack asked him.
"I did." Daniel opened his eyes and looked
at Jack for the first time.
Jack wasn't that slow. He got it. Daniel at
least was sitting out here, he was letting
Jack in this much.
What did Jack expect, really? No man was
ever willingly going to admit to another, or
even to himself, that he'd been raped. It
was an incomprehensible failure of
masculinity, a degradation that couldn't happen, not to you. Except it could, and it
did, every day, everywhere. Jack knew more
than most, he knew better than most. Special
Ops training was good for nothing if not for
realism. He knew the psychology of it, he
could cross every 't' of the textbook stuff.
None of which was worth diddly when this had
happened to Daniel.
He had rarely felt so frustrated, so
helpless, and he turned away now, glaring
down at the table top, biting out some of
his anger on the inside of his cheek. The
sweet, sick taste of blood flooded, but it
kept his big mouth shut.
"Sorry," Daniel faltered, actually sounding
sincere.
"Oh, god!" Jack exploded away from the table
in horror at Daniel's apologetic belief in
his inadequacy, stalking, wanting to kill
something. Elliot was far beyond him, far
beyond them both, and that was another
horrible complication. It wasn't just the
rape Daniel was dealing with, but the death,
the sacrifice. It wasn't any kind of
expiation on Elliot's part Daniel was
capable of accepting, he didn't think like
that. It was just more weight for him to
shoulder, and for as little reason as the
rest.
He looked across at his friend, his love,
bereft, sitting small and contained, neat
even, at the table. Small. How did such a
big, vibrant soul get to be small? He
slammed back over to the table, planted his
fists with satisfying force and sat, facing
Daniel. "It kills me I can't help you," he
said, voice low and trembling. It was
probably going to come out wrong, not
communicating what he was feeling at all,
but he gave it a shot anyway. "Don't you be
sorry for me. Give me that much, okay?"
Daniel stirred in protest and Jack clasped
his hands over Daniel's, shushed him. "Every
mistake I've made before," he said
passionately, "I won't make with you. I
won't do it."
"Make new ones," Daniel retorted with a
fleeting ghost of a smile and thready,
gallows humour.
"When life turns to shit, you can let it
take you down," Jack went on, quieting down,
all too aware how easily anger could be
mistranslated. His was not directed towards
Daniel. To himself, to Elliot, to life and
the fucking universe in general, but not to
Daniel. "I've let it take me down." It
wasn't an admission that was new to Daniel;
he'd known Jack too long and too well, he'd
always known the demons that had driven Jack
through the Stargate in the first place.
"But you can learn something from it too.
You can let it take you forward. You can,
you can 'grow' from it," he added
distastefully, dutifully making with the
politically correct psychobabble.
"Loving me?"
"It's taking me forward," Jack interrupted
firmly. He didn't know how to be sensitive
to Daniel's subdued mortification and
lacking the ability to comfort, he ignored
it, trying to talk as normally as possible.
"What held me back, I swear, I swear to you,
Daniel, it wasn't you," he said earnestly.
"It was never you. It was me. It, it was the
past."
"You said you felt too much?" Daniel hinted,
with a fleeting, naked glance up at Jack's
face.
Achingly, Jack realised the moment had
passed, that Daniel wasn't going to confide
in him more than he had. He had taken a
wrong turn here, offering up what Daniel
wanted to hear most from him, and now he
couldn't take it back. He'd meant for Daniel
to make the connection, to make this about
what was troubling him, but Daniel wasn't
letting Jack shift focus. Understanding
Daniel was acting only to protect himself,
and maybe Jack too, didn't make it easier to
accept being shut out.
"Too much," Jack agreed gently, surrendering
because even if this was the wrong comfort,
it was what Daniel needed to hear from him.
"It was, it wasn't more than I'd felt in the
past," he tried to explain. "It was, it is,"
he corrected himself instantly, "different."
Daniel was frowning, struggling to follow
this. "I thought it was about your career,
about your commitment to the Air Force."
"It is."
"Then wh…"
"The Air Force cost me my family."
Daniel sat back, staring at him.
"That was the root of it. That was why
Charlie…" It was Jack's turn to smile
tightly, meaninglessly. "That was why."
Because he was never there, because he had
too much respect for guns, for violence, and
not enough for his son's love. He had played
the big hero, played it up because it was
easier than the truth, Sara playing into it
too, all the huge, important, impressive
reasons Daddy just couldn't be there. Jack
had had plenty of time to lay blame. Years.
He'd made some kind of peace with it. "I
don't know why I can talk to you." He smiled
again. "I just don't know."
"This is too much to take in," Daniel
responded, abjectly bewildered.
"I couldn't give up the Air Force for them,"
Jack said softly, "But I can for you."
"G-g-give it up?" Daniel stuttered in shock.
"I'm not asking…"
"I don't get to have both," Jack interrupted
tranquilly. "And I told you, I'm done." He
smiled at Daniel, really smiled at him.
Yeah. He'd made a kind of peace with it.
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