|Genres:||Angst, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort|
|Summary:||Jack's not coping well with "Meridian."|
Author's Chapter Notes:
Special warnings: Violence. Specifically, a realistic depiction of "going postal." (A suicidal Jack beats the snot out of Jonas with a hockey stick.)
Jack sat on his bed with his gun, remembering the last time he felt like this. That time it had been Daniel who pulled him back. Now Daniel was gone, and there was no one to stop him. He looked at the pictures of Charlie and Daniel, side by side on his nightstand. He wondered if the gun would taste the same after all these years, cold and metallic and slightly salty with sweat and tears. He wondered if he should put some action video on the television to mask the sound of the gunshot, but decided it didn't matter. Eating your own gun blows away your brainstem and your autonomic functions with it; they can't save you. Not quite as final as nuking yourself, but the best he could do on such short notice.
He wondered if he should leave a note. He decided not to bother, and put the gun in his mouth... and realized that he had unfinished business.
Jonas Quinn. He had a sudden impulse to shoot Jonas Quinn first.
No, not shoot. Shooting was too quick. And not very satisfying. He remembered the hockey stick he put through General Hammond's car window, and smiled. Appropriate.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that lying, smirking, cowardly, snivelling loser Jonas was alive and Daniel--brave, brilliant, compassionate Daniel--was dead. Sweet, so sweet; beautiful Daniel. Dead. Ascended. Whatever. Jack was just going to have to remedy that. He put on his coat, put the gun in his coat pocket, and went to get his hockey stick, whistling "The Flight of the Valkyries."
No one had stopped him from wandering the base with a hockey stick. He had a cover story about teaching Teal'c the game, but no one asked.
Quinn was in Daniel's office. Bastard! Daniel's office! No right, he had no right to be there! There was a faint roaring in his ears, almost a singing; the universe had taken on a red tint and Jack was dizzy with hatred, trembling slightly with energy waiting to explode. Jack opened the door. Quinn looked up at him and smiled. "Colonel O'Neill?" he started. Jack grabbed him by the arm and dragged him bodily into the hall, then started hitting him with the hockey stick. He was distantly aware of Quinn screaming, but he was lost in a shrieking whirlwind of fury and loathing and misery that was so pure it was almost joy. An SF tried to stop him and he sent the man careening into a wall, knocking him unconscious. Quinn took the opportunity to stagger down the hall away from Jack. Jack pursued him, striking, over and over.
General Hammond was there, suddenly, demanding that Jack stop, telling him it was a direct order. Jack ignored him; he could barely hear him over the banshee chorus of adrenaline howling through his veins and throbbing in his head anyway. Hammond grabbed Jack's arm, and Jack menaced him with the hockey stick. It had blood on it. How did it get blood on it? Jack looked at the stick, confused, then looked at General Hammond.
"It's okay, son," Hammond soothed. "Let it go. Give it to me."
The hockey stick? No. Jack was doing something important with it, if only he could remember...
Oh yeah. He was clubbing Jonas Quinn like a baby seal with it.
"Jack, don't," Daniel said.
Jack froze. A light began to coalesce in front of him, then it began to look like Daniel.
No. Daniel was dead. He was losing it. He turned back to Quinn, who really wasn't looking that great. Which was strange, because Jack didn't feel he'd burned off enough of his anger for Quinn to look that bad. Maybe the hockey stick was too quick.
"Colonel O'Neill!" Hammond called. "I'm ordering you to stop!"
Some SFs stepped between Jack and Quinn, guns drawn. Jack tossed the hockey stick aside, laughing, and pulled out his own gun, cocked it, and put it in his mouth. The glow that might be Daniel moved, lightning-fast. There was a white flash, then nothing.
The ocean. It was like the ocean, only warm, and very dark. He felt rocked, supported, bouyed up.
Jack, Daniel's voice murmured softly. But somehow Jack knew he wasn't hearing it with his ears.
Jack opened his eyes, and the ocean was gone. He was in the infirmary. Strapped down. Jonas Quinn was in the next bed with tubes and wires everywhere. Jack struggled. Janet appeared with a needle.
"No," Jack protested. "Daniel!"
"He was here, sir," Carter reassured, audibly shaken. "Daniel was here. We saw him." Jack looked in the direction of her voice. She and Teal'c were standing by his bedside, looking worried. Carter looked like she'd been crying; her eyes were red and swollen. Jack felt his brow furrow, and was about to ask what was wrong when she added, "He's probably still here, just..."
"I also witnessed an energy being I believe to be DanielJackson," Teal'c confirmed.
Jack started cursing and struggling. Daniel appeared, and Jack stopped struggling. "Danny?"
"Shh," Daniel whispered, reaching a finger to Jack's lips, but he had no substance. "Just... let me."
Daniel became light again, moving closer, and then Jack was back in the ocean again, only this time everything was white light, and it felt like Daniel.
Jack felt himself calming. God! what had he... attempted murder? He felt Daniel soothing him, gentle.
Daniel had no body, so he'd never know what it was like to make love with Daniel. Never. This was as close as he'd ever get. He felt tears on his cheek as Daniel pulled away, startled...
"No!" Jack struggled against the sudden loss, and Janet grabbed his arm and injected him with something, and he was back in the dark ocean again. Only this time he knew Daniel was the ocean.
Jack cracked an eyelid open and looked around. White. Not Daniel-white.
Padded room white.
His wrists hurt. They were bruised from him struggling against the leather straps. He rubbed them thoughtfully.
Part of the room was a little whiter than the rest. He squinted at it.
Yes, I'm here, Daniel's voice said. I won't leave you here alone.
"You did something to me," Jack whispered. "Helped."
"I tried," Daniel replied softly, appearing lying on the floor next to Jack.
"I freaked you out," Jack observed wryly.
"Your imitation of Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining' freaked me out," Daniel corrected gently. "I was just... not expecting..."
"So you're saying whipping out my dick with the comment, 'Here's Johnny!' would be a poor seduction technique?" Jack retorted.
"I don't know, does that usually work?" Daniel riposted.
"Why don't you try it on me?" Jack replied mischievously.
"Um... no," Daniel demurred, blushing faintly.
"You blush?" Jack asked.
"Residual self-image," Daniel explained carelessly. "I think we should talk about this later, when you're not..."
"Nuts?" Jack offered helpfully.
"Um, well, basically," Daniel sighed.
"I was in love with you before I was nuts, if that helps," Jack sighed.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Daniel asked gently.
"I wasn't nuts?" Jack replied uncertainly.
Daniel smiled slowly at Jack.
"Besides, since I'm about to be discharged as nuts, 'Don't ask, don't tell' won't matter any more," Jack observed.
Daniel looked distressed.
"It's okay," Jack reassured. "Just... don't go anywhere, okay?"
"Okay," Daniel promised quietly.
Jack smiled quietly and relaxed, closing his eyes. He opened them again for a moment, adding, "Will you do that thing again?"
Daniel smiled quietly, and like the Cheshire cat, the smile was the last thing to disappear when he became light again, moving towards Jack.
The ocean. The ocean of light and love. Jack lay back, held and rocked gently.
Daniel loved him, too, and he wasn't going anywhere. Sweet.
Jack unlocked his front door and pushed it open with his elbow.
Daniel. Sitting on his couch in his bathrobe, hair damp. Daniel looked up and smiled.
"So, they declared you not nuts?" Daniel asked.
"Yeah, the more fools them," Jack retorted. "And I have to take these nifty pills for awhile." Jack sat down next to Daniel and set the bag of Chinese take-out on the coffee table. "And yes, I'm still in love with you, which makes the possible sexual side effects a pain in the ass."
"Pun not intended," Daniel observed mildly.
Jack made a wry face, then looked Daniel up and down. "You look startlingly corporeal."
"I am," Daniel replied. "I told you I wasn't going anywhere and I meant it."
"And you're sure whipping out my dick and saying, 'Heeeere's Johnny!' isn't a valid seduction technique?" Jack teased.
Daniel gave Jack a withering look. Jack leaned over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. Daniel's face softened.
"Can I do that again?" Jack asked.
"Um, okay," Daniel agreed, blushing.
Jack kissed Daniel on the cheek again, then on the lips, cautiously at first, but he had to taste that sweet, longed-for mouth, explore it, caress Daniel's tongue with his.
Daniel tasted like coffee.
"You descended and immediately brewed coffee?" Jack asked incredulously. Daniel just blushed and shrugged. Jack kissed him again.
"So we're...?" Daniel asked.
"Yeah," Jack answered. "If you want me."
"I do," Daniel replied quietly.
Jack pulled a bottle of pills out of his pocket. "Maybe you need these more than I do," he teased.
Daniel made a face, then leaned over and kissed Jack. "Maybe we should go to bed."
Jack blinked, thought about it for a moment, then leaned over and untied Daniel's bathrobe.
"Jack?" Daniel started, uncertain.
Jack smiled reassuringly, moving one side of the robe aside. It was there! Daniel's appendectomy scar. He grinned at a now-confused Daniel, delighted, and reached out with trembling fingers to touch it. Daniel flinched slightly at his touch, ticklish, but smiled back. Jack moved to kneel on the floor next to the couch so he could kiss the scar, gently, which made Daniel flinch again with a small, soft laugh.
Real. Scars and all.
Shaky hands skimmed up Daniel's chest, Jack kneeling up to push the robe over Daniel's shoulders, then trailing palms and fingers down Daniel's arms. Daniel leaned forward to help. "You want me to..." Daniel started.
"Just..." Jack interrupted, then trailed off, momentarily distracted by Daniel's erection. "Just let me," he asked softly, running greedy hands over Daniel's torso, then looking up for approval. Daniel smiled one of his brighter-than-the-sun smiles and nodded, granting permission.
Jack kissed Daniel's knees, which made Daniel giggle. Inquisitive fingertips lightly skimmed up Daniel's thighs. Jack looked up at Daniel, seeking his eyes. Daniel's eyes were dark and dilated with arousal, his chest moving with quickened breath. Jack glanced down again, quickly, at Daniel's dick, pinkish among the brown-blonde curls, so hard it was pressed firmly into Daniel's stomach, then looked back up into those dilated eyes. Daniel licked his lips nervously, watching intently, and Jack slowly and deliberately moved his hand to gently stroke the warm, soft length. He felt rather than saw Daniel's abdomen contract, his eyes still fixed on Daniel's face as Daniel bit his lip lightly with a strong gasping exhalation.
Jack had no idea how he got back on the couch, but he was kissing Daniel, frantically, jerking him off while Daniel kissed back, hands on his face, in his hair, pulling off Jack's clothes feverishly and moaning Jack's name into his mouth almost continuously. Jack yanked his t-shirt off over his head as quickly as he could, then went back to the task at hand with a renewed frenzy. Daniel tried to get Jack's pants off, with no cooperation from Jack and no luck, finally giving up and wrapping his arms around Jack to stroke Jack's back, neck, hair, suddenly falling still and silent. Jack's hand became wet and slick, and he gentled, kissing tenderly.
After a few soft kisses, Daniel lifted Jack's hand and kissed it, then, curiously, his tongue swiped the dampness. Jack let out a hissing breath, flinching, and Daniel looked up with mingled mischief and flattered surprise, straddled Jack's lap, grabbed Jack's hand with both of his to hold it still, and slowly, deliberately licked it clean with long, luxurious tonguestrokes. He paused to look at Jack, gauging reaction. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but only a strangled sound came out. Daniel beamed at Jack, then sucked his thumb suggestively, watching his eyes.
Daniel started sucking on each finger in turn, maintaining eye contact, and Jack wondered if he could come just from Daniel licking and sucking on his hands. As he reached Jack's pinky and seemed to be about to work his way back, Jack groaned, "Daniel!"
Daniel smiled mischievously, and knelt in front of Jack, undoing Jack's pants and pulling them off. Was he going to... oh, God, he was. Daniel leaned forward and breathed the lightest kiss on the tip of Jack's penis, followed by an upward glance and shy smile, followed by a cautious, tentative lick. Jack gasped, and Daniel wrapped his mouth around Jack and started trying some of the things he'd done to Jack's fingers.
Jack ran his hands up Daniel's arms, thinking he might pass out. Just the sight of Daniel--Daniel!--on his knees in front of him, sucking... oh, God! "Daniel!" he breathed, coming, and for just a moment it was as though he were back in that dark ocean again. Then he opened his eyes and Daniel had his chin resting on his arms, arms folded across Jack's thighs, looking happily up at Jack. Happily! He made Daniel happy. Jack wondered for a second if he'd succeeded in shooting himself and was in heaven. If so, heaven had a strangely carnal edge to it. And he didn't think he'd be hungry in heaven. He glanced at the bag of take-out and asked, "Food?"
"And coffee," Daniel replied. "I really missed coffee." He looked sad for a moment. "I missed you more."
"I missed you more," Jack retorted.
Daniel considered this. "I think you did. You win," he teased.