FIC: Five Things
Author: Regency
Title: Five Things
Rating: G
Word count ~900 total, broken up into 10 ficlet/drabble-ish things.
Summary: Five things that make the two Jack O'Neills very different men, even if sort of makes them the same.
Author's Notes: Written on the fly for stargateland 's five things challenge.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone here, but I do adore them.
~!~
Five Things that Made Jack O'Neill Different
1. His Instincts
It had seemed too good to be true, so Jack had taken it at face value. Daniel had thrown himself face first into the newest in a long line of “archaeological finds of the century” and Carter had followed along, with her naquadah detector and her collection of handheld gizmos that did everything. He’d be surprised if none of them could find out what was for dinner. She had that many. Still, he kept at her back with Teal’c at Daniel’s and waited for the other shoe to drop. Nice folks, plenty of minerals, and an advanced society to boot screamed Goa’uld.
Unluckily for these guys, Jack was already listening.
2. His Sarcasm
“No, I’m definitely having a good time, Daniel,” he grinned caustically while kicking his feet to stay afloat. “You know how I love getting caught in flash floods.”
3. His Perseverance
He was going to do this, one way or another. He was going to survive this, one way or another. He hadn’t lived through the worst the galaxy had to show him to die of a hit and run in his own neighborhood. Lieutenant General Jack O’Neill was not going out like that.
4. His Gene
It was almost a relief not to be at the SGC anymore. It was harder to hear her from D.C. Atlantis, that is. She called him like a prodigal son every time the expedition reported in. He'd been and gone once, nearly died in the process, and come straight back home after. Atlantis had her golden son in Sheppard; Jack was just going to have to stay prodigal.
5. His Hair
“Silver foxes are very in where I’m from. Not your thing?” The natives pointed their spears balefully at his hair, which had been covered up until Daniel suggested they uncover their heads as a sign of respect. In the future, Jack would just have to make sure Daniel read the travel advisories for the planets they visited before they visited. Jack had gone half a century-he was not thinking about that, not thinking about it-without being scalped; he figured he was good for a few decades more.
Five Things That Made Clone Jack O'Neill Just Like Everyone Else
1. His Age
He hated looking in the mirror. He saw a kid even he wouldn’t take seriously, one that no one else seemed to either. He was dragging himself across trodden ground and he hadn’t exactly skipped over it the first time. This had been a bad idea and he saw that everyday.
2. His Face
Jack hadn’t been a particularly attractive kid. Oh, he’d done all right with the girls and a few of the guys had been notably impressed as he hit puberty and grew, but he’d never been Rick Springfield, even when Jessie’s Girl was the girl all the guys wanted. In those formative years, Jack was ordinary. He didn’t mind that, really; it was just one more way of blending in, one more way he wasn’t Jack O’Neill anymore. He was just like every other kid in class: ordinary.
3. His Loneliness
He always felt stupid feeling lonely. As an adult, he’d thrived on time alone. He had his telescope and his stars, his beer and his TV, his truck and his cabin. He’d had all that the trappings of a hermit, but with a better bank balance. Turned out that made all the difference. He had a crap telescope and a crap TV now. His car-way too small for his sprouting limbs-was piece of crap pain in the mik’ta and his cabin was just…not an option anymore. Jack had been willingly alone for so long that he’d forgotten how to find people. So, he didn’t find them and they didn’t find him.
4. His Fear
He didn’t want to fail again. He refused. He’d prove that he was different: better, faster, smarter, worth keeping around. His old self at this age had been too easily discouraged. Oh, he’d talked a lot of trash, but it had hidden a racing heart and sweating palms. If they’d failed at the Air Force they had nowhere else to go. If he failed at the rest of his life this time, it was the only place he had.
5. His Determination
Jack O’Neill was very good. Young or old, big or bigger, he was very good. He wasn’t brilliant and, depending on the subject, he wasn’t even especially motivated, but his momma had always said he was determined. It got him just through high school the first go round and it got him to the top 5% this time. He could have aced it the whole way, been number one and probably done the whole top of the class thing if he wanted. It just hadn’t seemed fair to the kids who didn’t need a do-over, so he’d slacked a bit more and just done a cut above all right. Even if he’d just done his teenage years over, it felt good this time, it felt better. What felt even better was seeing his old team, and even his reluctant, older self there to cheer him on when got his diploma. It may have taken all of his determination not to bawl like a big kid, but he definitely wouldn’t be telling anybody that. After all, Jack O'Neill didn't cry.
Title: Five Things
Rating: G
Word count ~900 total, broken up into 10 ficlet/drabble-ish things.
Summary: Five things that make the two Jack O'Neills very different men, even if sort of makes them the same.
Author's Notes: Written on the fly for stargateland 's five things challenge.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone here, but I do adore them.
~!~
Five Things that Made Jack O'Neill Different
1. His Instincts
It had seemed too good to be true, so Jack had taken it at face value. Daniel had thrown himself face first into the newest in a long line of “archaeological finds of the century” and Carter had followed along, with her naquadah detector and her collection of handheld gizmos that did everything. He’d be surprised if none of them could find out what was for dinner. She had that many. Still, he kept at her back with Teal’c at Daniel’s and waited for the other shoe to drop. Nice folks, plenty of minerals, and an advanced society to boot screamed Goa’uld.
Unluckily for these guys, Jack was already listening.
2. His Sarcasm
“No, I’m definitely having a good time, Daniel,” he grinned caustically while kicking his feet to stay afloat. “You know how I love getting caught in flash floods.”
3. His Perseverance
He was going to do this, one way or another. He was going to survive this, one way or another. He hadn’t lived through the worst the galaxy had to show him to die of a hit and run in his own neighborhood. Lieutenant General Jack O’Neill was not going out like that.
4. His Gene
It was almost a relief not to be at the SGC anymore. It was harder to hear her from D.C. Atlantis, that is. She called him like a prodigal son every time the expedition reported in. He'd been and gone once, nearly died in the process, and come straight back home after. Atlantis had her golden son in Sheppard; Jack was just going to have to stay prodigal.
5. His Hair
“Silver foxes are very in where I’m from. Not your thing?” The natives pointed their spears balefully at his hair, which had been covered up until Daniel suggested they uncover their heads as a sign of respect. In the future, Jack would just have to make sure Daniel read the travel advisories for the planets they visited before they visited. Jack had gone half a century-he was not thinking about that, not thinking about it-without being scalped; he figured he was good for a few decades more.
Five Things That Made Clone Jack O'Neill Just Like Everyone Else
1. His Age
He hated looking in the mirror. He saw a kid even he wouldn’t take seriously, one that no one else seemed to either. He was dragging himself across trodden ground and he hadn’t exactly skipped over it the first time. This had been a bad idea and he saw that everyday.
2. His Face
Jack hadn’t been a particularly attractive kid. Oh, he’d done all right with the girls and a few of the guys had been notably impressed as he hit puberty and grew, but he’d never been Rick Springfield, even when Jessie’s Girl was the girl all the guys wanted. In those formative years, Jack was ordinary. He didn’t mind that, really; it was just one more way of blending in, one more way he wasn’t Jack O’Neill anymore. He was just like every other kid in class: ordinary.
3. His Loneliness
He always felt stupid feeling lonely. As an adult, he’d thrived on time alone. He had his telescope and his stars, his beer and his TV, his truck and his cabin. He’d had all that the trappings of a hermit, but with a better bank balance. Turned out that made all the difference. He had a crap telescope and a crap TV now. His car-way too small for his sprouting limbs-was piece of crap pain in the mik’ta and his cabin was just…not an option anymore. Jack had been willingly alone for so long that he’d forgotten how to find people. So, he didn’t find them and they didn’t find him.
4. His Fear
He didn’t want to fail again. He refused. He’d prove that he was different: better, faster, smarter, worth keeping around. His old self at this age had been too easily discouraged. Oh, he’d talked a lot of trash, but it had hidden a racing heart and sweating palms. If they’d failed at the Air Force they had nowhere else to go. If he failed at the rest of his life this time, it was the only place he had.
5. His Determination
Jack O’Neill was very good. Young or old, big or bigger, he was very good. He wasn’t brilliant and, depending on the subject, he wasn’t even especially motivated, but his momma had always said he was determined. It got him just through high school the first go round and it got him to the top 5% this time. He could have aced it the whole way, been number one and probably done the whole top of the class thing if he wanted. It just hadn’t seemed fair to the kids who didn’t need a do-over, so he’d slacked a bit more and just done a cut above all right. Even if he’d just done his teenage years over, it felt good this time, it felt better. What felt even better was seeing his old team, and even his reluctant, older self there to cheer him on when got his diploma. It may have taken all of his determination not to bawl like a big kid, but he definitely wouldn’t be telling anybody that. After all, Jack O'Neill didn't cry.