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Last semester I found out the uni mag was doing a short story competition. I dug out one of the few half-way decent stories I've started AND finished and submitted it maybe a day before the deadline. This Tuesday I stumble across a copy of said magazine and discover that out of the 100 or so entries I made the shortlist of 15. They managed to spell my name wrong, but I so don't care :) I'm floating between elation and mortification: for some reason I'm physically incapable of reading my work on the published page.
So, in the spirit of being too embarrassed to read my own work back, (It's utterly unchanged, even though I can think of a thousand things I'd do different, including the title which was beta-suggested) and in the elation that some objective and un-biased stranger thinks I can write...
"Let's Just Go Home"
By Maharet
Jack knew something was wrong when it was Dr Warner who came to check on him instead of Janet.
He thought: must have been a lot of wounded. After all, they'd been getting their asses kicked when he'd been hit. Then he looked properly at the man who was examining him and knew immediately - someone was dead.
Even as Jack opened his mouth, his brain was churning through the names. Dixon, Bosworth, Wells - God, not Wells, he had a baby due soon - Balinski...
"Janet," Warner said. "It was Janet, she was KIA..." He swallowed hard. "She was stabilizing Airman Wells...excuse me, Colonel." Warner finished scribbling something on his clipboard with careful, precise movements and walked away, a hand over his face.
For several seconds, Jack simply refused to believe it. He heard the sharp click of high heels approaching the curtains around his bed and hoisted himself into a sitting position, ready to tear a strip off her for scaring the hell out of him, but it was Nurse Clark, her face red and blotchy, who pushed aside the curtain.
"Colonel," she croaked in greeting.
He nodded in return, the horror starting to sink in as she took his blood pressure by rote. Jack mentally fumbled for her first name - Joyce? Sharon, maybe? - Daniel was better at this, made far more effort... Daniel. A bolt of absolute terror surged through Jack.
"The others - was anyone else hurt?"
Clark shook her head, seemingly missing the urgency in his voice.
"Cuts, bruises. Wells...Janet got him..."
Jack grabbed Clark's hand, squeezed it as she fought for control.
"Sharon." Her name was there suddenly, solid on his tongue. "She saved his life okay?" Jack had no idea if it were true - Wells could still die for all he knew - but he had to offer her something. She nodded, pulling her hand free and patting his shoulder, and he offered his arm for the inevitable blood drawing without complaint.
~*~
As soon as they let him out, he went looking for Daniel. He checked the labs first; Daniel's, then Carter's, then went to the library, commissary, locker rooms and gate room. By the time he was checking the gym and his own office, he forced himself to admit that he knew where Daniel would be.
The window in the infirmary door was cold to the touch. The room beyond was dim, and Jack hesitated with his hand on the doorknob for a long time. He remembered standing in Charlie's room for the first time after the accident: the cold, irreversible fact of death biting savagely. He wasn't sure he could have done it for even Teal'c or Carter, but this was Daniel, so he turned the knob, pushed the door open and stepped inside in a silent rush.
It wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Jack scanned the beds. Wells was asleep at the far end but there was no sign of Daniel.
It was only as he turned to leave that Jack spotted him. Daniel was hunched on the floor between the beds, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. The shadows that fell across his face looked like bruises.
"Daniel..."
He looked up at the sound of Jack's voice.
"Jack." He sounded exhausted "I...I wanted to be there when you woke up, but NID's been investigating us all afternoon. Warner said you'd be okay. Are you all right?" There was no accusation, only a lover's concern, but Jack felt the stab of guilt anyway. He nodded. Oh, yes, he could imagine how the subtext of that particular conversation had gone: Colonel O'Neill will be fine, but Janet's dead, dead, dead...
Jack sank down next to Daniel and reached for him, screw the cameras just this once, but Daniel flinched away.
"I'm fine, Jack."
"No, you're not."
Daniel jerked to his feet, evading Jack's reach. For a second he almost looked angry, about to yell, but he caught sight of Wells asleep at the end of the room and winced.
"Let's...Let's just go home, okay?"
They rode the elevators to the surface in silence. Jack kept sneaking glances at him while Daniel stared resolutely at the floor. In the light, Jack could see his eyes were dry but his face was tight with pain. Daniel was holding himself perfectly still, arms around his middle. Jack tried to side-step towards him and without even glancing up, Daniel shifted away.
They scanned their palms at the final interior checkpoint.
"Uh, Colonel, Dr Jackson..."
For the first time, Jack consciously registered the young airman guarding the checkpoint. He'd addressed both of them, but seemed to be focusing on Daniel.
"Dr Jackson, we've all heard...I'm so sorry..."
Jack watched, almost marveling, as Daniel uncurled and reached out to touch the younger man's arm.
"Thanks, Jake," he murmured.
Jack nodded to the guard, keeping an eye on Daniel.
As they walked to his truck, Jack watched the walls return. His lover's shoulders hunched, his head ducked and arms returned to wrap around his middle. They drove home, the silence building in the car like a scream. Daniel rested his forehead against the passenger window and Jack saw him reach under his glasses and rub his eyes again and again.
They pulled into Jack's driveway and Daniel was out of the truck before Jack had even killed the engine. He watched Daniel stalk up to the front door, digging in his pockets for his key. Jack, knowing full well that Daniel's keys were on the kitchen counter where he'd forgotten them that morning, rested his head against the steering wheel. Exhaustion was settling in and the pain meds he'd been given in the infirmary were starting to wear off and the staff wound was throbbing. Taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the truck seemed to take far more energy than necessary.
"Here," he said, coming up behind Daniel and leaning over his shoulder to unlock the door. Daniel paused momentarily inside the threshold as if he wasn't sure where to go, giving Jack just enough time to get the door closed, step in front of him and trap him in a bear hug. Daniel froze.
"Don't, Jack."
Jack tightened his grip and Daniel jerked, trying to free his arms pinned between their bodies.
"Let me go." He kicked out blindly and connected with Jack's shin. Jack hissed with pain then staggered, fighting for balance as Daniel collapsed against him with a groan.
"I gotcha," Jack grunted, shifting his hold, determined to keep Daniel on his feet until his lover's legs remembered how to stand. "It's..." Jack managed to stop himself before he said It's okay, but only just. Daniel was starting to shudder, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Jack felt him start to slip and looked desperately towards the couch but with the steps down to the living room and neither of them particularly able-bodied it may as well have a mile away. He shuffled toward the bedroom, tugging Daniel with him.
"I gotcha," he murmured again and let himself fall back onto the bed. Daniel landed awkwardly on top of him, agony flaring in his stomach until Daniel realised and took some of his weight. They rolled onto their sides, legs intertwined.
Jack leaned back to take off Daniel's glasses. His lover's eyes were squeezed shut, two tears slipping their way down his cheek. Jack kissed them away, tasting the salt on his lips.
"It was so fast," Daniel whispered. "So fast. We were kneeling over Simon, talking to him and then she -." His voice cracked and he abruptly opened his eyes. "I gave them the tape."
"The doco guys?" Jack hazarded.
"Yeah, they need to see - everyone needs to see - who she was, what she did."
Jack only had the vaguest idea what Daniel as talking about, but he nodded. Daniel pressed his face into Jack's neck and Jack held him while he grieved.
~*~
Jack awoke groggily to find Daniel kneeling over him, pushing up his pants leg to reveal a spectacular bruise on his right shin.
"Ouch," Daniel murmured. "Sorry. Janet's gonna..."
Jack saw Daniel's expression freeze, then contort as the realisation hit, as it was going to hit in a thousand different ways in the coming weeks. Jack opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his throat closed up, his eyes burning. He opened his arms instead and Daniel crawled into his embrace. They clung to each other, trying to banish the pain through touch, just for a little while.
~finis~
I'm gonna go hide under the bed now.
Last semester I found out the uni mag was doing a short story competition. I dug out one of the few half-way decent stories I've started AND finished and submitted it maybe a day before the deadline. This Tuesday I stumble across a copy of said magazine and discover that out of the 100 or so entries I made the shortlist of 15. They managed to spell my name wrong, but I so don't care :) I'm floating between elation and mortification: for some reason I'm physically incapable of reading my work on the published page.
So, in the spirit of being too embarrassed to read my own work back, (It's utterly unchanged, even though I can think of a thousand things I'd do different, including the title which was beta-suggested) and in the elation that some objective and un-biased stranger thinks I can write...
"Let's Just Go Home"
By Maharet
Jack knew something was wrong when it was Dr Warner who came to check on him instead of Janet.
He thought: must have been a lot of wounded. After all, they'd been getting their asses kicked when he'd been hit. Then he looked properly at the man who was examining him and knew immediately - someone was dead.
Even as Jack opened his mouth, his brain was churning through the names. Dixon, Bosworth, Wells - God, not Wells, he had a baby due soon - Balinski...
"Janet," Warner said. "It was Janet, she was KIA..." He swallowed hard. "She was stabilizing Airman Wells...excuse me, Colonel." Warner finished scribbling something on his clipboard with careful, precise movements and walked away, a hand over his face.
For several seconds, Jack simply refused to believe it. He heard the sharp click of high heels approaching the curtains around his bed and hoisted himself into a sitting position, ready to tear a strip off her for scaring the hell out of him, but it was Nurse Clark, her face red and blotchy, who pushed aside the curtain.
"Colonel," she croaked in greeting.
He nodded in return, the horror starting to sink in as she took his blood pressure by rote. Jack mentally fumbled for her first name - Joyce? Sharon, maybe? - Daniel was better at this, made far more effort... Daniel. A bolt of absolute terror surged through Jack.
"The others - was anyone else hurt?"
Clark shook her head, seemingly missing the urgency in his voice.
"Cuts, bruises. Wells...Janet got him..."
Jack grabbed Clark's hand, squeezed it as she fought for control.
"Sharon." Her name was there suddenly, solid on his tongue. "She saved his life okay?" Jack had no idea if it were true - Wells could still die for all he knew - but he had to offer her something. She nodded, pulling her hand free and patting his shoulder, and he offered his arm for the inevitable blood drawing without complaint.
~*~
As soon as they let him out, he went looking for Daniel. He checked the labs first; Daniel's, then Carter's, then went to the library, commissary, locker rooms and gate room. By the time he was checking the gym and his own office, he forced himself to admit that he knew where Daniel would be.
The window in the infirmary door was cold to the touch. The room beyond was dim, and Jack hesitated with his hand on the doorknob for a long time. He remembered standing in Charlie's room for the first time after the accident: the cold, irreversible fact of death biting savagely. He wasn't sure he could have done it for even Teal'c or Carter, but this was Daniel, so he turned the knob, pushed the door open and stepped inside in a silent rush.
It wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Jack scanned the beds. Wells was asleep at the far end but there was no sign of Daniel.
It was only as he turned to leave that Jack spotted him. Daniel was hunched on the floor between the beds, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. The shadows that fell across his face looked like bruises.
"Daniel..."
He looked up at the sound of Jack's voice.
"Jack." He sounded exhausted "I...I wanted to be there when you woke up, but NID's been investigating us all afternoon. Warner said you'd be okay. Are you all right?" There was no accusation, only a lover's concern, but Jack felt the stab of guilt anyway. He nodded. Oh, yes, he could imagine how the subtext of that particular conversation had gone: Colonel O'Neill will be fine, but Janet's dead, dead, dead...
Jack sank down next to Daniel and reached for him, screw the cameras just this once, but Daniel flinched away.
"I'm fine, Jack."
"No, you're not."
Daniel jerked to his feet, evading Jack's reach. For a second he almost looked angry, about to yell, but he caught sight of Wells asleep at the end of the room and winced.
"Let's...Let's just go home, okay?"
They rode the elevators to the surface in silence. Jack kept sneaking glances at him while Daniel stared resolutely at the floor. In the light, Jack could see his eyes were dry but his face was tight with pain. Daniel was holding himself perfectly still, arms around his middle. Jack tried to side-step towards him and without even glancing up, Daniel shifted away.
They scanned their palms at the final interior checkpoint.
"Uh, Colonel, Dr Jackson..."
For the first time, Jack consciously registered the young airman guarding the checkpoint. He'd addressed both of them, but seemed to be focusing on Daniel.
"Dr Jackson, we've all heard...I'm so sorry..."
Jack watched, almost marveling, as Daniel uncurled and reached out to touch the younger man's arm.
"Thanks, Jake," he murmured.
Jack nodded to the guard, keeping an eye on Daniel.
As they walked to his truck, Jack watched the walls return. His lover's shoulders hunched, his head ducked and arms returned to wrap around his middle. They drove home, the silence building in the car like a scream. Daniel rested his forehead against the passenger window and Jack saw him reach under his glasses and rub his eyes again and again.
They pulled into Jack's driveway and Daniel was out of the truck before Jack had even killed the engine. He watched Daniel stalk up to the front door, digging in his pockets for his key. Jack, knowing full well that Daniel's keys were on the kitchen counter where he'd forgotten them that morning, rested his head against the steering wheel. Exhaustion was settling in and the pain meds he'd been given in the infirmary were starting to wear off and the staff wound was throbbing. Taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the truck seemed to take far more energy than necessary.
"Here," he said, coming up behind Daniel and leaning over his shoulder to unlock the door. Daniel paused momentarily inside the threshold as if he wasn't sure where to go, giving Jack just enough time to get the door closed, step in front of him and trap him in a bear hug. Daniel froze.
"Don't, Jack."
Jack tightened his grip and Daniel jerked, trying to free his arms pinned between their bodies.
"Let me go." He kicked out blindly and connected with Jack's shin. Jack hissed with pain then staggered, fighting for balance as Daniel collapsed against him with a groan.
"I gotcha," Jack grunted, shifting his hold, determined to keep Daniel on his feet until his lover's legs remembered how to stand. "It's..." Jack managed to stop himself before he said It's okay, but only just. Daniel was starting to shudder, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Jack felt him start to slip and looked desperately towards the couch but with the steps down to the living room and neither of them particularly able-bodied it may as well have a mile away. He shuffled toward the bedroom, tugging Daniel with him.
"I gotcha," he murmured again and let himself fall back onto the bed. Daniel landed awkwardly on top of him, agony flaring in his stomach until Daniel realised and took some of his weight. They rolled onto their sides, legs intertwined.
Jack leaned back to take off Daniel's glasses. His lover's eyes were squeezed shut, two tears slipping their way down his cheek. Jack kissed them away, tasting the salt on his lips.
"It was so fast," Daniel whispered. "So fast. We were kneeling over Simon, talking to him and then she -." His voice cracked and he abruptly opened his eyes. "I gave them the tape."
"The doco guys?" Jack hazarded.
"Yeah, they need to see - everyone needs to see - who she was, what she did."
Jack only had the vaguest idea what Daniel as talking about, but he nodded. Daniel pressed his face into Jack's neck and Jack held him while he grieved.
~*~
Jack awoke groggily to find Daniel kneeling over him, pushing up his pants leg to reveal a spectacular bruise on his right shin.
"Ouch," Daniel murmured. "Sorry. Janet's gonna..."
Jack saw Daniel's expression freeze, then contort as the realisation hit, as it was going to hit in a thousand different ways in the coming weeks. Jack opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his throat closed up, his eyes burning. He opened his arms instead and Daniel crawled into his embrace. They clung to each other, trying to banish the pain through touch, just for a little while.
~finis~
I'm gonna go hide under the bed now.