WiP Amnesty Day
Feb. 6th, 2004 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
graculusWell, if it's good enough for everyone else, who am I not to follow, sheep-like? ;)
He still heard the whispers as he paced the endless corridors of the SGC, but by now Daniel had become so used to it he didn't even bother to turn his head. He'd become accustomed to the looks - pity in the eyes of those who had sympathy for him and scorn on the faces of those who didn't.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. All that once mattered to him had died in flames, screaming his name.
Even the thought of it was enough to make his eyes prick with unshed tears. Not here, Daniel told himself, and somehow bit back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. If he let them. Though at least the fact he could cry meant something, didn't it? Before that, in the immediate aftermath, he'd felt numb. Felt nothing. Even as Daniel had gasped his first breath of sulfur-free air as he hit the other side of the wormhole, it was as though he'd left his heart behind on that planet.
With Jack, or whatever was left of him.
His mind spun with unspoken thoughts, all the conversations he'd never have, all the things he wished unsaid. He'd wasted words when he could have said more important things - instead of talking about the past, about what they'd lost, he could have looked to the future. To a time when they'd rescued Sha're and Skaara, when the universe would be free of the Goa'uld. When they'd be explorers, setting out for the other side of the universe for the thrill of discovery, not for a desperate need to find allies and prevent their own inevitable destruction.
Those hopes had perished in flames too.
Everything that tied him to the SGC, all the victim of one mis-step on a newly-discovered planet, a monumental misjudgement on all their parts.
Sam had got them home, half-dragging him back to the Stargate when he'd frozen at the sight of his friend engulfed in flames. He could still hear her disbelieving shout, feel Teal'c's strong grip hold him back as he'd tried to struggle to where Jack was, though Daniel had known it was too late even then. Too late for all of them.
Too late for him to drink beer on a lazy Sunday afternoon, his feet propped up on the railing of Jack's carefully made deck, ignoring the scowls that resulted. Too late for the jibes he'd so quickly become accustomed to, seeing them for what they were, the overtures of friendship between two unlikely comrades in arms. Too late for anything more, for another soul who'd do whatever was necessary to help Daniel find his lost family, regardless of the cost.
He turned the corner then stopped in his tracks.
"Daniel?" Sam's worried voice, drawn face. "Janet sent me to look for you, you missed your appointment with her."
Damn. Was it really that time already? Daniel glanced at his watch, wondering where the day had gone and marvelling at how long it was since he'd last slept. When he'd been a student he'd tried to exist on caffeine alone and that particular part of his history seemed to be repeating itself.
"I'm fine," he said, recognizing the denial on Sam's face even as he said the words. He didn't blame her for not believing him; Daniel was sure he wouldn't have believed himself either. "Janet's worrying over nothing."
"And I've got a bridge you can buy," Sam replied, as she took a tentative step closer to where he stood. Once she hadn't been so wary, Daniel remembered - they'd known each other only a few months but their friendship had blossomed. Now she looked almost afraid of him, of how he'd respond to even a casual touch. "Please. You're not fine."
When he didn't react, Sam seemed to take that as tacit encouragement, reaching out and taking hold of his sleeve. She still had the same expression on her face, as if she expected Daniel to suddenly break free and run screaming down the corridor. He couldn't remember having that much energy - not recently, anyway.
"I'm fine," he repeated.
"No, Daniel, you're not." Sam's voice was quiet, reassuring in its calmness. "But you will be."
-------------------
Waking up soaking wet and alone hadn't been the highlight of his week so far, but in hindsight Jack decided it was looking like one of his better days.
It had been a few hours before he'd discovered he wasn't alone, the only other occupant of wherever-the-hell-they-were turning out to be a scaly alien with an attitude to match his own. And his own attitude left a lot to be desired.
He couldn't help wondering about the rest of his team, and Scaly wasn't being much help with that. All he did was glare at him, or swing those big-ass claws around like he was lecturing and needed the talons to make his point. Not that Jack had any idea what the subject of the lecture was - if Scaly wanted information of some kind, he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to know, even if Jack was inclined to tell him.
The first time he'd woken up strapped to the table hadn't been all that much of a surprise.
Jack hadn't noticed anything strange in the food he'd been left, though the taste and texture of it wasn't all he could wish for. But one night he'd clearly slept deeper than usual and he'd woken up restrained.
And that was when the fun *really* started.
What the hell was this 'Omorroca' anyway?
-------------------
"No."
"Dr. Jackson," Hammond began, straightening up a little in his chair as if pulling his authority from somewhere.
"No. I won't do it."
He probably sounded crazy. It had taken what seemed like forever before Daniel had been able to persuade Janet to let him leave the infirmary, and he could still feel her gaze heavy on him as the doors had swung closed behind his grateful exit.
"He would have wanted you to," Sam said, interjecting. Daniel turned to her, anger flooding his system at her temerity. She paled a little under his expression, further words clearly waiting to be said.
How dare she? How dare either of them say what Jack would have wanted? How dare they want him to do this?
"You know he would have, Daniel."
Daniel closed his eyes, just the thought of a memorial service enough to drain away the anger he'd felt only moments before. Kawalsky's was fresh in his mind, the seried ranks of dress blues, somber faces as the last post had been played. He couldn't do this for Jack, no matter what - he couldn't stand there and tell them about Jack. That was private, personal, not a matter to be shared with people whose only contact with Jack O'Neill had been passing him in the SGC hallway.
He couldn't tell them what they wanted to know. He didn't know what they wanted to hear, what the acceptable truth was about someone he'd come to consider his closest friend. That was more than he was able to give them.
"I'm sorry, general," he said. "My decision is final."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Dr. Jackson." Hammond's voice was full of empathy - in the aftermath of anger, Daniel recognized the kindness of long experience. "If you change your mind..."
"I won't," Daniel said, quickly. He knew it for the truth the moment the words were spoken. If he had his way, if it wouldn't have upset the others more than he cared to do, he might not even have agreed to attend the memorial service itself. But Sam and Teal'c deserved better than to face this alone.
He was out of his chair and halfway to the door even before he'd been dismissed.
----------------
And that's all she wrote...
He still heard the whispers as he paced the endless corridors of the SGC, but by now Daniel had become so used to it he didn't even bother to turn his head. He'd become accustomed to the looks - pity in the eyes of those who had sympathy for him and scorn on the faces of those who didn't.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. All that once mattered to him had died in flames, screaming his name.
Even the thought of it was enough to make his eyes prick with unshed tears. Not here, Daniel told himself, and somehow bit back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. If he let them. Though at least the fact he could cry meant something, didn't it? Before that, in the immediate aftermath, he'd felt numb. Felt nothing. Even as Daniel had gasped his first breath of sulfur-free air as he hit the other side of the wormhole, it was as though he'd left his heart behind on that planet.
With Jack, or whatever was left of him.
His mind spun with unspoken thoughts, all the conversations he'd never have, all the things he wished unsaid. He'd wasted words when he could have said more important things - instead of talking about the past, about what they'd lost, he could have looked to the future. To a time when they'd rescued Sha're and Skaara, when the universe would be free of the Goa'uld. When they'd be explorers, setting out for the other side of the universe for the thrill of discovery, not for a desperate need to find allies and prevent their own inevitable destruction.
Those hopes had perished in flames too.
Everything that tied him to the SGC, all the victim of one mis-step on a newly-discovered planet, a monumental misjudgement on all their parts.
Sam had got them home, half-dragging him back to the Stargate when he'd frozen at the sight of his friend engulfed in flames. He could still hear her disbelieving shout, feel Teal'c's strong grip hold him back as he'd tried to struggle to where Jack was, though Daniel had known it was too late even then. Too late for all of them.
Too late for him to drink beer on a lazy Sunday afternoon, his feet propped up on the railing of Jack's carefully made deck, ignoring the scowls that resulted. Too late for the jibes he'd so quickly become accustomed to, seeing them for what they were, the overtures of friendship between two unlikely comrades in arms. Too late for anything more, for another soul who'd do whatever was necessary to help Daniel find his lost family, regardless of the cost.
He turned the corner then stopped in his tracks.
"Daniel?" Sam's worried voice, drawn face. "Janet sent me to look for you, you missed your appointment with her."
Damn. Was it really that time already? Daniel glanced at his watch, wondering where the day had gone and marvelling at how long it was since he'd last slept. When he'd been a student he'd tried to exist on caffeine alone and that particular part of his history seemed to be repeating itself.
"I'm fine," he said, recognizing the denial on Sam's face even as he said the words. He didn't blame her for not believing him; Daniel was sure he wouldn't have believed himself either. "Janet's worrying over nothing."
"And I've got a bridge you can buy," Sam replied, as she took a tentative step closer to where he stood. Once she hadn't been so wary, Daniel remembered - they'd known each other only a few months but their friendship had blossomed. Now she looked almost afraid of him, of how he'd respond to even a casual touch. "Please. You're not fine."
When he didn't react, Sam seemed to take that as tacit encouragement, reaching out and taking hold of his sleeve. She still had the same expression on her face, as if she expected Daniel to suddenly break free and run screaming down the corridor. He couldn't remember having that much energy - not recently, anyway.
"I'm fine," he repeated.
"No, Daniel, you're not." Sam's voice was quiet, reassuring in its calmness. "But you will be."
-------------------
Waking up soaking wet and alone hadn't been the highlight of his week so far, but in hindsight Jack decided it was looking like one of his better days.
It had been a few hours before he'd discovered he wasn't alone, the only other occupant of wherever-the-hell-they-were turning out to be a scaly alien with an attitude to match his own. And his own attitude left a lot to be desired.
He couldn't help wondering about the rest of his team, and Scaly wasn't being much help with that. All he did was glare at him, or swing those big-ass claws around like he was lecturing and needed the talons to make his point. Not that Jack had any idea what the subject of the lecture was - if Scaly wanted information of some kind, he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to know, even if Jack was inclined to tell him.
The first time he'd woken up strapped to the table hadn't been all that much of a surprise.
Jack hadn't noticed anything strange in the food he'd been left, though the taste and texture of it wasn't all he could wish for. But one night he'd clearly slept deeper than usual and he'd woken up restrained.
And that was when the fun *really* started.
What the hell was this 'Omorroca' anyway?
-------------------
"No."
"Dr. Jackson," Hammond began, straightening up a little in his chair as if pulling his authority from somewhere.
"No. I won't do it."
He probably sounded crazy. It had taken what seemed like forever before Daniel had been able to persuade Janet to let him leave the infirmary, and he could still feel her gaze heavy on him as the doors had swung closed behind his grateful exit.
"He would have wanted you to," Sam said, interjecting. Daniel turned to her, anger flooding his system at her temerity. She paled a little under his expression, further words clearly waiting to be said.
How dare she? How dare either of them say what Jack would have wanted? How dare they want him to do this?
"You know he would have, Daniel."
Daniel closed his eyes, just the thought of a memorial service enough to drain away the anger he'd felt only moments before. Kawalsky's was fresh in his mind, the seried ranks of dress blues, somber faces as the last post had been played. He couldn't do this for Jack, no matter what - he couldn't stand there and tell them about Jack. That was private, personal, not a matter to be shared with people whose only contact with Jack O'Neill had been passing him in the SGC hallway.
He couldn't tell them what they wanted to know. He didn't know what they wanted to hear, what the acceptable truth was about someone he'd come to consider his closest friend. That was more than he was able to give them.
"I'm sorry, general," he said. "My decision is final."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Dr. Jackson." Hammond's voice was full of empathy - in the aftermath of anger, Daniel recognized the kindness of long experience. "If you change your mind..."
"I won't," Daniel said, quickly. He knew it for the truth the moment the words were spoken. If he had his way, if it wouldn't have upset the others more than he cared to do, he might not even have agreed to attend the memorial service itself. But Sam and Teal'c deserved better than to face this alone.
He was out of his chair and halfway to the door even before he'd been dismissed.
----------------
And that's all she wrote...
