Ficathon Story: Silence, Part I
Author’s reflection on challenge: I got the hurt/comfort requirement in spades. Water is less present through the whole story, but important in the scene which inspired the story. Escape from hostile aliens happens prior to the real action.
Many thanks to catspaw_sgjd for a super-fast beta reading!
Daniel had finally, after a difficult few months, adjusted to his life again. He didn’t remember much about being ascended, but he did wonder why it had ever seemed so appealing. He couldn’t do anything, from what Jack had told him and what little he recalled. And leaving Jack - well, he could only attribute that to the radiation poisoning, because why else would he do a stupid thing like that? But Jack forgave him, even if he didn’t think he deserved it.
There were times, especially after his body was taken over by other consciousnesses, and after a particularly bad nightmare about dying, that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. He’d thought that his gnawing apprehension would fade, but it didn’t, not even when his memories were back and he felt, otherwise, like his life was back to what passed for normal. Gate travel still filled him with wonder, but also fear that he hid behind the trauma of memory loss. He tried not to dwell on it, but couldn’t help feeling that he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And then it did.
It took SG-1, SG-3, and SG-12 to rescue Jack, and they got him back, but in a way, they were too late. The damned Oglani did some kind of fusing of Jack’s vocal chords. Apparently that was the first step in making him a good, obedient slave. Janet said that the Oglani had to be medically advanced, because they somehow managed to remove the potential to make sound without interfering with breathing and swallowing.
Jack spent five days in the infirmary. He refused to acknowledge any visitors after the first two hours. In fact, he scribbled a note demanding that Janet not allow visitors.
Janet spent all of her time trying to find a way to allow Jack to speak, consulting half the scientists on the base and specialists from around the world, but even she knew it was a lost cause. This was simply beyond them. Not even the Tok’ra had any ideas, reported Jacob Carter regretfully.
Daniel stayed in the infirmary, just on the other side of the curtain that blocked his view of Jack. When Janet or Dr. Warner made him, he left for a shower and a few hours of sleep in lockdown quarters before returning. He couldn’t leave, couldn’t function, couldn’t do anything at all but wait. He couldn’t even work up the energy to be angry at Jack for shutting him out, because he suspected that if their positions were reversed he might’ve done the same thing. It was too much, too terrible.
Sam and Teal’c, being unable to comfort Jack, had tried to comfort Daniel. And for the first time, Daniel wished that they didn’t know about his relationship with Jack. He refused to be comforted while he couldn’t be with Jack. Eventually they got the picture. Sam retreated to her lab to bury herself in research. Teal’c took up a semi-permanent residency in the gym that scared even the hardest of the Marines.
General Hammond wisely didn’t interfere with their various methods of coping (or not coping). Every morning and every afternoon he visited the infirmary to see if Jack was up for company, respecting his 2IC’s requests when Jack inevitably failed to allow the general to see him. Then Hammond spent a couple of minutes in silent support with Daniel before leaving.
On the fourth day, Daniel had had enough. “Could I speak with you privately?” he asked Janet.
“Of course. My office?”
That suited Daniel perfectly. “I have to see Jack,” he told her once the door was closed.
“I’m sorry, Daniel, but Colonel O’Neill has made his wishes very clear.” Her voice was compassionate but firm.
“You don’t understand.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”
He looked at the floor, dejected. “Jack’s going to get a medical retirement, isn’t he? Be honest.”
“I can’t…”
“Jack’s my partner, Janet. We’ve been together - well, if you count when I was ascended, which he does, almost three years now.”
“I see,” she said, calm and collected. “And I have to admit, I’m not entirely surprised.”
“Medical retirement?”
She nodded. “I hate to give up, but this is way beyond anything we’re familiar with. If his vocal chords had been cut, there are technological advances that could help. But this… it’s going to take a miracle, Daniel.”
Her words hurt even though he’d known they were coming, but Daniel forced himself to speak. “I know that I have no rights, but… I have to see him. It’s killing me, because I know him, and I know what he’s thinking. Trust me, Janet, he’s not going to snap out of this by himself.”
“I didn’t think he would,” she admitted. “Alright, Daniel. You may not have legal rights, but in view of your longstanding relationship, in my opinion, you have moral rights.”
“Thank you.”
She gave him one of her knowing gazes. “He’s going to need you.”
“I know.”
When Daniel slid the curtain open, Jack was clearly expecting Janet or one of the other medical staff, so he couldn’t pretend to be asleep. He could, however, promptly turn his back on Daniel.
Not easily deterred, Daniel dragged a chair over and sat down. First, before he said a word, he put Jack’s notepad and pen right beside him on the bed. The last thing Daniel wanted to do was make Jack think he was trying to trap him into a lecture.
Jack grabbed the pen and wrote, Go away.
“No.”
Please.
“No, Jack. I’m not going away. Not ever.”
Jack scowled. Go away, Daniel. Don’t try to fix me.
“I’m not going to fall for it, Jack. You can try to push me away, but I’m not going anywhere.” Because Daniel knew Jack, and therefore he knew Jack would somehow twist this so he saw himself as a burden on Daniel.
It’s better if you do.
He’d expected this martyr complex. “No. Jack, look at me.” When his partner reluctantly complied, Daniel tried to pour his love into his gaze. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
That was at nine-thirty in the morning. Jack didn’t respond until almost three. He was reading the spy novel Teal’c had dropped off, although halfheartedly. In that time Daniel only left once, to go to the bathroom. He sat beside Jack and waited. Janet brought him a word search book, and he finished every single puzzle.
Finally Jack wrote again. Be realistic, Daniel. Nobody wants to tell me, but I know my career is over.
“I know too. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But it doesn’t change us.”
Don’t be stupid. Of course it does.
He leaned in, speaking quietly. “How?”
Because you’ll be on SG-1 and I’ll be fishing in Minnesota.
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
Jack crossed his arms in a blatant dare. Daniel had come prepared. On day two, he’d asked Teal’c to go to his new rental and retrieve his private journal. He knew Teal’c wouldn’t even be tempted to read it, such was the Jaffa’s respect for privacy. He’d bookmarked one especially clear page, waiting for the right moment to show it to Jack. It was his most recent thoughts on how he was no longer sure how long he could keep traveling though the gate, at least happily and possibly sanely. Not long before Jack’s accident, he’d finally admitted to himself that this state of mind was permanent and had in fact been working out how to broach the subject with his partner.
“Read this.” He handed the journal to Jack, who gave him a questioning look. “I want you to read it, Jack.”
A few minutes later, Jack closed the journal and reached for his pen. I had no idea.
“I thought it would go away,” Daniel confessed. “And then I just didn’t know what to do. I’m not saying I want to leave SGC. I’d really like to stay here. Just not on SG-1. Which would, of course, mean something resembling normal hours.”
The program needs you.
“No, it doesn’t. SGC continued just fine while I was ascended. Still, I think I can contribute from the mountain. We never have enough translators.”
But you love digs.
“Yes. I do. Tell me, how often do I get a proper dig?”
SG-11?
“You know as well as I do that my skills are needed more in translation and understanding the bigger picture than uncovering individual artifacts.”
Jack had no response to that.
“So I want you to think about something, Jack. Maybe we find another miracle. I hope we do. But if we don’t…”
Medical retirement.
“Yes. And if that happens, we wouldn’t have to hide anymore. There have to be fish around here.”
It’s about the fish-ING.
“Right. So you can find a fishing spot around here. Of course we’ll still go to the cabin.”
Not the same.
“Maybe I don’t have the right to ask this, after what I did. But please, Jack, don’t run away from me.”
Jack hadn’t written anything, but he didn’t need to. He grabbed Daniel’s hand and clutched it like a lifeline.
*****
General Hammond, who was probably starting to guess the true nature of their relationship, had given Daniel two weeks off before it was time to begin his new duties. He admitted that the Pentagon was happy to stop risking Daniel in the field anyway. During those two weeks, Daniel moved into Jack’s house (which wasn’t hard, because he didn’t yet have many belongings - his rental was furnished) and started teaching both of them sign language.
He’d tried keeping his talking to a minimum, in case that made it easier for Jack. That lasted about three hours before Jack shoved a notebook at him. Damn it, talk!
Why are you here? wrote Jack the first night.
“You’re my partner and I love you. That hasn’t changed, Jack. We haven’t changed.”
You don’t have to do this.
“I want to do this, Jack. I’m not here because I feel obligated or any other reason and you’d better get that through your head, because I’m not going anywhere.” When Jack didn’t look convinced, he asked, “If our positions were reversed, what would you do?”
Jack pulled him down on the couch and held his hand tightly, so Daniel figured he’d gotten the message.
“No more blocking me out. I’ve tolerated it this long, but no more, Jack. We’re not over.” He’d let this go because he knew Jack, in some twisted way, was allowing him a chance to leave because he felt honor-bound to let him be ‘free.’ But no more.
Jack nodded. He got the message. Things were as they always were. Daniel wasn’t one to make his partner talk, most of the time, but he demanded the right to be present, physically and emotionally.
They spent the rest of the evening watching a hockey game, or at least pretending to. Daniel’s interest in hockey was limited to begin with, and his thoughts kept circling back to Jack. He was pretty certain, at least, that Jack knew he was in this for the long haul. For better or worse.
But he still wondered how the hell they were going to navigate this new life.
They went to bed early, but Daniel woke up in the middle of the night. Jack was shaking, breathing hard, and... taking Daniel’s pulse? Oh. That could only mean one thing. “Nightmare?” asked Daniel groggily.
Jack nodded. Daniel eased over until they were holding each other, feeling Jack’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. He didn’t ask what it was about, because just then moving to get the pen and paper would’ve been too much. “I’m here, Jack. We’re both here.”
Carefully, deliberately, Jack traced onto his back. Daniel realized his partner had found a way around the pen and paper issue. F-l-o-o-d. C-o-u-l-d-n-t w-a-r-n y-o-u.
That was about as much as Jack had ever explained when he had his voice. Nightmares tended to come with the territory on SG-1. Daniel rubbed circles on Jack’s back, trying to ground him in the present.
“Oh, Jack,” he whispered, a few tears leaking out. “I’m sorry. I keep thinking, maybe if-”
Jack put his hand over Daniel’s mouth and shook his head. In the moonlight, Daniel could see his partner automatically mouth No. Then he reached for the pad of paper.
Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault but the damned Oglani.
Rationally, Daniel knew that. He hadn’t mistranslated anything, and they’d followed procedures exactly. Jack was on point, and he activated the trap. It was as simple as that. They couldn’t have predicted a slave-catching trap, couldn’t have done anything to get Jack back sooner once he was transported away.
Still, he kept searching his mind for something, anything that would’ve led to a different outcome.
Jack lay down again, and they stayed like that for a long time. Not sleeping, just taking and giving what comfort they could.
*****
Daniel tried to be compassionate, but annoyance was creeping in. He suspected that Jack’s lack of interest in ASL was a denial mechanism, because learning ASL would make it all real. In fact, Jack wasn’t interested in much of anything. Sam and Teal’c had been over earlier with a movie, but Jack wasn’t great company and they didn’t stay long after the movie ended.
“Fine,” he announced. “You don’t have to. But I’m learning ASL, Jack, and you’ve had the TV all afternoon, so it’s my turn now.”
Jack scowled and buried himself in a book. Daniel was on the letter G when Jack slammed the book shut, stalked over, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV off.
“I was watching that.”
Jack sat on the other end of the couch in stony silence. Daniel slid over a notepad and pencil. “I at least deserve an explanation,” he said.
Jack scribbled and threw the notepad back. I just can’t.
That was not very informative. Daniel moved over, taking the notepad with him, and pulled Jack so they were leaning together. “You’re not alone,” he said, tracing the veins on Jack’s left hand.
I know.
“And we’ve established that I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”
Jack nodded.
“No more shutting me out, remember?”
Slowly, Jack took the paper. I’m not whole.
Daniel thought he understood where this was going. He kissed Jack and then made eye contact. “They took your voice, Jack, and that ended your career, not your future. Not your life. Not anything else that matters. This isn’t what we planned. But we’re both here, alive, and I for one am grateful for that much.”
Jack nodded again, and Daniel continued, “Besides, once you can sign, you can tell me all those comments you don’t want anyone else to overhear.”
That got a smile. A very small smile, but the first since he’d been captured. Daniel was relieved to see it. He knew this would be hard for Jack, but he was determined to show his partner that they still had a great future in store.
*****
Daniel slept in their bed every night, but he waited for Jack to initiate sex. Jack had always been vocal during lovemaking, for one thing, and he needed Jack to know that he was sticking around, no matter what. So, to his frustration, their physical relationship remained stalled at brief kisses and cuddling on the couch. He wanted the affirmation of life he got from their lovemaking after a close call, but didn’t want to push Jack.
They spent most of the next two days working out the rhythms of their new life: turning the guest room into Daniel’s study, working out a system where Jack could get Daniel’s attention by whistling a specific series of notes, and learning sign language. Jack wasn’t happy about the ASL lessons, but he worked at it anyway. Daniel had his suspicions that Jack would rather spend the time learning sign language than explaining why he didn’t want to. He picked up the alphabet easily enough. Jack was a physical person, so the kinetic knowledge of ASL was not terribly difficult for him.
Friday evening, Teal’c showed up and announced that Daniel was going out.
“No, I’m staying with Jack,” corrected Daniel.
“You are not,” insisted Teal’c. “You must care for yourself as well, Daniel Jackson. Major Carter is expecting you shortly.”
“She is?”
“The two of you have been anticipating this day for some time. She has prepared her larger purse to covertly bring additional snacks into the movie theater.”
He’d forgotten. The movie theater - he and Sam had been looking forward to this release for a month.
“I have purchased a new chess set.” Teal’c held it up. Chess was a good idea. He and Jack had long been able to spend hours playing highly competitive chess and barely speak a word.
“Star Wars chess?”
Clearly pleased with this latest find, Teal’c magnanimously announced, “I will allow O’Neill to play as the Jedi.”
Jack pulled out a bag of Doritos and jotted a note telling Daniel to have fun and eat too much junk. Daniel managed to do both once the screen lit up. The movie was even better than they’d hoped. Sam had outdone herself sneaking snacks in, so they left on a bit of a sugar high. On the way back they had an animated discussion about the movie, disagreeing over whose acting deserved award nominations.
But then they got back to Sam’s place, and reality came crashing down again. He’d thought for a second what Jack would say about the plot, and then it hit him that Jack wouldn’t say anything again. Daniel slumped down onto Sam’s couch as he processed that.
Sam sat down beside him, declared, “You look like you need a hug,” and proceeded to do just that. When she pulled back, she said, “You know it’s not your fault, Daniel.”
“I know.” He did, and was sure that in time his heart would catch up to his brain on the matter.
Sam knew him too well. “Then why the guilty face?”
“I miss his voice,” admitted Daniel.
“Of course you do.”
Her acceptance stunned him for a moment, because Daniel had been busy chastising himself for being so selfish.
“But Jack’s the one who -”
He never got to finish, because Sam cut him off with, “I’m sorry for his losses - his voice, the team. But I’m also going to miss having him as my CO.”
“He’s a great commander,” agreed Daniel.
“Yes. But I notice you’re not telling me that I am being selfish.”
“It’s a change in your life too,” he retorted before the meaning sunk in. It applied to him as well as her.
Sam nodded, seeing his understanding dawn. “Don’t deny your loss, Daniel.”
“I love him, voice or no voice.”
“I know. That’s what’s going to get him through this. Without you I think he’d go hide away in his cabin.”
She was right about that. “He was going to, you know.” At that, he sat up. “I should go home.”
Sam didn’t argue, just gave him another hug and sent him home with her homemade white chocolate macadamia cookies.
When he got home, Teal’c called up from the roof, “Daniel Jackson, we are viewing your moon.”
Daniel brought the cookies up with him. It was a clear night, and while it was the cold typical of a Colorado winter at least there was next to no wind chill. Teal’c leaned back from the telescope and announced, “It does not resemble cheese at all.”
Jack looked at the bag in Daniel’s hands, which was hard to see in the shadows. Hesitantly, he signed out, C-o-o-k-i-e-s?
“Yes, Sam sent her white chocolate macadamia cookies.”
Jack promptly made a ‘gimme’ motion. Daniel handed the bag over, relieved. Jack had actually used sign language to communicate with him, and he might not even have realized the importance of that step, but it wasn’t lost on Daniel.
*****
Daniel opened the door, even though Jack was closer to it. Jack didn’t like opening the door now, and Daniel wasn’t inclined to push the issue, at least for a while. So he put down his book, went to the door, and found General Hammond on the front steps.
“Come in,” he invited. “Jack’s in the living room.”
Hammond followed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but took note of the new additions to Jack’s living room: Daniel’s favorite picture of the pyramids at Giza just as the sun rose, a small abstract sculpture given to Daniel by the King of Y’hal (a planet also known as P7Y-928), and the Egyptian-motif throw Sam had given Daniel for Christmas. The kinds of things one didn’t bring just for a temporary stay. Hammond observed but made no comment.
“Hello Jack,” he greeted.
Jack gestured to the couch, inviting the general to sit, which he did after handing over a gift-wrapped box.
“I know you’re not celebrating your retirement,” said Hammond, “but it seemed unfair to deprive you of gifts. Tessa wrapped it,” he added, which explained the purple, kitten-covered wrapping paper.
Jack adored presents and thought it was practically a crime to unwrap them carefully. He tore off the paper and revealed a fly-tying set, complete with instructional DVD. It promised to make tying great flies easy. Daniel was impressed with the general’s gift selection. Jack had commented a few times over the years that someday he wanted to learn fly fishing, and now was a good time for a new hobby.
Thank you, sir, Jack wrote. It’s great.
“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Jack nodded.
“It won’t be the same without you, Jack, but I’m damned glad you’re alive. We weren’t sure at first.” After a glace at Daniel, the general amended, “Except Dr. Jackson. He was convinced that the Oglani intended to keep you alive.”
Daniel had been certain. If the Oglani wanted visitors dead, there were easier ways than the trap Jack fell into. The trap itself hadn’t shown any signs of being ritualized, either - it was a quick, practical way to catch live prisoners. Of course, he had no way of knowing how long the Oglani would keep Jack alive. They’d moved quickly, but not fast enough.
Not his fault, Daniel reminded himself. Not anyone’s fault but the Oglani's.
Hammond didn’t stay long, which worked out well because there was a History Channel special Daniel had missed the first time it aired. Jack made a face when reminded about this, but Daniel had been very generous in not subjecting Jack to many specials the past few days. And anyway, he decided that the History Channel fell under the category of their relationship being the same as before. Jack never cared for the History Channel unless the show was about planes, but he suffered through and liked to prove he paid attention by citing them two or three weeks later.
They lay down together. Jack’s couch - their couch - was nice and wide, bought with just this in mind. That was familiar. The silence wasn’t. Jack’s body was warm behind him, but Daniel kept expecting the usual sarcastic remarks his partner invariably made.
This was going to be harder than he’d anticipated, he realized. They would work things out, but Daniel was struck with a pang of regret that he’d never hear Jack’s commentary again.
During the first commercial break, Jack sat up and grabbed his pen and paper. What’s the matter?
“Nothing.”
Liar.
Daniel raised his eyebrows in a slight challenge.
You didn’t complain about the retroactive assumption of the codification of Hinduism.
The History Channel had an unfortunate tendency to blindly follow the common view that Hinduism had been a codified religion for millennia, a pet peeve of Daniel’s. Modern Hinduism had in fact been shaped significantly by the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British, who wanted a codified religion that they could neatly label as such, as opposed to an incredibly diverse collection of rituals and beliefs that formed a way of life. Since he always objected, Daniel couldn’t very well deny that the special hadn’t captured his full attention. Jack knew he’d caught Daniel and was waiting for his explanation.
“I don’t-” began Daniel. That wasn’t right. “I feel selfish,” he admitted, first and foremost, “but I was just waiting for your… unique comments.”
Nice to know I’m not the only one who misses my voice.
“You know it doesn’t change anything, right?”
Jack nodded before looking down to write. In a minute he handed Daniel the paper. You were pretty clear that you’re sticking around. I’m glad you are. But I know this isn’t easy for you either.
“Not easy,” he admitted, “a lot of it because I wish I could do more. But, it is what it is. We’ll figure it out together.”
Jack nodded and grabbed Daniel’s hand. It had been somewhat reassuring for Daniel to hear from Sam that his own sense of loss was understandable, but it was considerably more reassuring coming from Jack. He leaned against Jack and let his partner pull them back down to their former position in time for the resumption of his special.
*****
Jack declined to accompany Daniel to the grocery store, and Daniel didn’t push even though he thought his partner really should get out of the house. But Jack moped around most of Monday, and by evening Daniel had had enough.
“We’re going out to dinner,” he announced.
Jack shook his head.
“Olive Garden.”
Jack loved Olive Garden, in no small part because of the unlimited breadsticks, but he shook his head again. Daniel was having none of it. “I’ve only had fettuccini alfredo once since I’ve been back.”
In a moment, Jack handed him a legal pad on which he’d written, If it means that much to you.
“It does.” That was mostly true, even. Thinking about Olive Garden, Daniel had worked up a craving for fettuccini alfredo.
It was all very normal at first. Jack drove, and if the ride was quiet, it wasn’t the first time. Everything was unremarkable until the waitress asked if she could interest them in wine. Suddenly, Daniel feared he’d made a terrible mistake. They should’ve gone to the movies, or gone to shoot pool, or anything else that didn’t usually require speaking. Even the ice fishing Jack was always trying to get him to try.
“Just water,” he said, “for both of us.” Jack always got water with his meals. He said soda did nothing for thirst. And Janet hadn’t yet cleared him for alcohol, although Daniel suspected this was a measure to prevent self-medication more than anything else. For his part, Daniel was too busy with self-recrimination to think about his own drink order.
“Jack,” he said when the waitress left. “We can go, if you want.”
Jack shook his head and pulled a little notebook out of his jacket. You’re right.
“If you’re sure.”
I could hide, but this isn’t just me. Not going to make you hide too.
Daniel was overwhelmed, wondering how he’d been so fortunate to get Jack for a partner. Jack was doing this - more than Daniel had realized he was asking - out of love.
He reached out and brushed Jack’s hand ever so briefly. Later, when they’d adjusted more to Jack’s muteness, they could discuss if they wanted to be more out. Now was not the time, so Daniel settled for that fleeting contact.
“Thank you,” he said, but what he meant - and Jack heard - was ‘I love you.’
They didn’t linger, but the meal passed without incident. Jack wasn’t entirely comfortable, which put Daniel a bit on edge, but Jack was alive and otherwise well. Daniel reminded himself that it could’ve been much worse.
The ride home was a bit more eventful, and not in a good way; they very nearly took off someone’s car door. A young woman parked on the side of the road failed to look before swinging her door open, and only Jack’s quick reflexes prevented an accident. Daniel was planning to seduce Jack as soon as they got home, so he was especially glad the door-shearing was avoided. It would’ve entirely killed what little mood he’d managed to build up.
As soon as the front door was closed behind them Daniel pulled Jack in for a long kiss. His partner responded, if not with the intensity that such a move usually elicited. This kiss was a slow burn. Daniel added a little friction, waiting until he felt the beginnings of Jack’s arousal to speak. “I want you,” he said, voice already husky with love and desire. “I need you.”
His choice of words was entirely honest as well as deliberate. Daniel was not accustomed to admitting personal needs. Oh, he would admit that he needed more hours in a day or another reference book, but rarely confessed his deeper needs. Jack had never said a word about it, but on the rare occasion Daniel actually said he needed something, Jack did his best to provide. Daniel still voiced his personal needs infrequently, but using the word conveyed to Jack the importance of a request, because it wasn’t done lightly.
Jack ran his fingers over Daniel’s kiss-swollen lips and mouthed, Daniel. He then replaced his fingers with his lips and they kissed again, this time with a bit more vigor.
Daniel needed to show Jack all the love in his heart, everything Jack’s going out to dinner had stirred up. He needed to feel how alive they both were. Making out in the entryway was a good start.
Later, twined together enjoying the aftermath of their lovemaking, he felt a little lighter. It turned out that Jack had needed the same affirmations, and either hadn’t known or hadn’t admitted it. Daniel felt another piece of his world slip back into place.
Continued in Part Two
Many thanks to catspaw_sgjd for a super-fast beta reading!
Daniel had finally, after a difficult few months, adjusted to his life again. He didn’t remember much about being ascended, but he did wonder why it had ever seemed so appealing. He couldn’t do anything, from what Jack had told him and what little he recalled. And leaving Jack - well, he could only attribute that to the radiation poisoning, because why else would he do a stupid thing like that? But Jack forgave him, even if he didn’t think he deserved it.
There were times, especially after his body was taken over by other consciousnesses, and after a particularly bad nightmare about dying, that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. He’d thought that his gnawing apprehension would fade, but it didn’t, not even when his memories were back and he felt, otherwise, like his life was back to what passed for normal. Gate travel still filled him with wonder, but also fear that he hid behind the trauma of memory loss. He tried not to dwell on it, but couldn’t help feeling that he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And then it did.
It took SG-1, SG-3, and SG-12 to rescue Jack, and they got him back, but in a way, they were too late. The damned Oglani did some kind of fusing of Jack’s vocal chords. Apparently that was the first step in making him a good, obedient slave. Janet said that the Oglani had to be medically advanced, because they somehow managed to remove the potential to make sound without interfering with breathing and swallowing.
Jack spent five days in the infirmary. He refused to acknowledge any visitors after the first two hours. In fact, he scribbled a note demanding that Janet not allow visitors.
Janet spent all of her time trying to find a way to allow Jack to speak, consulting half the scientists on the base and specialists from around the world, but even she knew it was a lost cause. This was simply beyond them. Not even the Tok’ra had any ideas, reported Jacob Carter regretfully.
Daniel stayed in the infirmary, just on the other side of the curtain that blocked his view of Jack. When Janet or Dr. Warner made him, he left for a shower and a few hours of sleep in lockdown quarters before returning. He couldn’t leave, couldn’t function, couldn’t do anything at all but wait. He couldn’t even work up the energy to be angry at Jack for shutting him out, because he suspected that if their positions were reversed he might’ve done the same thing. It was too much, too terrible.
Sam and Teal’c, being unable to comfort Jack, had tried to comfort Daniel. And for the first time, Daniel wished that they didn’t know about his relationship with Jack. He refused to be comforted while he couldn’t be with Jack. Eventually they got the picture. Sam retreated to her lab to bury herself in research. Teal’c took up a semi-permanent residency in the gym that scared even the hardest of the Marines.
General Hammond wisely didn’t interfere with their various methods of coping (or not coping). Every morning and every afternoon he visited the infirmary to see if Jack was up for company, respecting his 2IC’s requests when Jack inevitably failed to allow the general to see him. Then Hammond spent a couple of minutes in silent support with Daniel before leaving.
On the fourth day, Daniel had had enough. “Could I speak with you privately?” he asked Janet.
“Of course. My office?”
That suited Daniel perfectly. “I have to see Jack,” he told her once the door was closed.
“I’m sorry, Daniel, but Colonel O’Neill has made his wishes very clear.” Her voice was compassionate but firm.
“You don’t understand.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”
He looked at the floor, dejected. “Jack’s going to get a medical retirement, isn’t he? Be honest.”
“I can’t…”
“Jack’s my partner, Janet. We’ve been together - well, if you count when I was ascended, which he does, almost three years now.”
“I see,” she said, calm and collected. “And I have to admit, I’m not entirely surprised.”
“Medical retirement?”
She nodded. “I hate to give up, but this is way beyond anything we’re familiar with. If his vocal chords had been cut, there are technological advances that could help. But this… it’s going to take a miracle, Daniel.”
Her words hurt even though he’d known they were coming, but Daniel forced himself to speak. “I know that I have no rights, but… I have to see him. It’s killing me, because I know him, and I know what he’s thinking. Trust me, Janet, he’s not going to snap out of this by himself.”
“I didn’t think he would,” she admitted. “Alright, Daniel. You may not have legal rights, but in view of your longstanding relationship, in my opinion, you have moral rights.”
“Thank you.”
She gave him one of her knowing gazes. “He’s going to need you.”
“I know.”
When Daniel slid the curtain open, Jack was clearly expecting Janet or one of the other medical staff, so he couldn’t pretend to be asleep. He could, however, promptly turn his back on Daniel.
Not easily deterred, Daniel dragged a chair over and sat down. First, before he said a word, he put Jack’s notepad and pen right beside him on the bed. The last thing Daniel wanted to do was make Jack think he was trying to trap him into a lecture.
Jack grabbed the pen and wrote, Go away.
“No.”
Please.
“No, Jack. I’m not going away. Not ever.”
Jack scowled. Go away, Daniel. Don’t try to fix me.
“I’m not going to fall for it, Jack. You can try to push me away, but I’m not going anywhere.” Because Daniel knew Jack, and therefore he knew Jack would somehow twist this so he saw himself as a burden on Daniel.
It’s better if you do.
He’d expected this martyr complex. “No. Jack, look at me.” When his partner reluctantly complied, Daniel tried to pour his love into his gaze. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
That was at nine-thirty in the morning. Jack didn’t respond until almost three. He was reading the spy novel Teal’c had dropped off, although halfheartedly. In that time Daniel only left once, to go to the bathroom. He sat beside Jack and waited. Janet brought him a word search book, and he finished every single puzzle.
Finally Jack wrote again. Be realistic, Daniel. Nobody wants to tell me, but I know my career is over.
“I know too. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But it doesn’t change us.”
Don’t be stupid. Of course it does.
He leaned in, speaking quietly. “How?”
Because you’ll be on SG-1 and I’ll be fishing in Minnesota.
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
Jack crossed his arms in a blatant dare. Daniel had come prepared. On day two, he’d asked Teal’c to go to his new rental and retrieve his private journal. He knew Teal’c wouldn’t even be tempted to read it, such was the Jaffa’s respect for privacy. He’d bookmarked one especially clear page, waiting for the right moment to show it to Jack. It was his most recent thoughts on how he was no longer sure how long he could keep traveling though the gate, at least happily and possibly sanely. Not long before Jack’s accident, he’d finally admitted to himself that this state of mind was permanent and had in fact been working out how to broach the subject with his partner.
“Read this.” He handed the journal to Jack, who gave him a questioning look. “I want you to read it, Jack.”
A few minutes later, Jack closed the journal and reached for his pen. I had no idea.
“I thought it would go away,” Daniel confessed. “And then I just didn’t know what to do. I’m not saying I want to leave SGC. I’d really like to stay here. Just not on SG-1. Which would, of course, mean something resembling normal hours.”
The program needs you.
“No, it doesn’t. SGC continued just fine while I was ascended. Still, I think I can contribute from the mountain. We never have enough translators.”
But you love digs.
“Yes. I do. Tell me, how often do I get a proper dig?”
SG-11?
“You know as well as I do that my skills are needed more in translation and understanding the bigger picture than uncovering individual artifacts.”
Jack had no response to that.
“So I want you to think about something, Jack. Maybe we find another miracle. I hope we do. But if we don’t…”
Medical retirement.
“Yes. And if that happens, we wouldn’t have to hide anymore. There have to be fish around here.”
It’s about the fish-ING.
“Right. So you can find a fishing spot around here. Of course we’ll still go to the cabin.”
Not the same.
“Maybe I don’t have the right to ask this, after what I did. But please, Jack, don’t run away from me.”
Jack hadn’t written anything, but he didn’t need to. He grabbed Daniel’s hand and clutched it like a lifeline.
*****
General Hammond, who was probably starting to guess the true nature of their relationship, had given Daniel two weeks off before it was time to begin his new duties. He admitted that the Pentagon was happy to stop risking Daniel in the field anyway. During those two weeks, Daniel moved into Jack’s house (which wasn’t hard, because he didn’t yet have many belongings - his rental was furnished) and started teaching both of them sign language.
He’d tried keeping his talking to a minimum, in case that made it easier for Jack. That lasted about three hours before Jack shoved a notebook at him. Damn it, talk!
Why are you here? wrote Jack the first night.
“You’re my partner and I love you. That hasn’t changed, Jack. We haven’t changed.”
You don’t have to do this.
“I want to do this, Jack. I’m not here because I feel obligated or any other reason and you’d better get that through your head, because I’m not going anywhere.” When Jack didn’t look convinced, he asked, “If our positions were reversed, what would you do?”
Jack pulled him down on the couch and held his hand tightly, so Daniel figured he’d gotten the message.
“No more blocking me out. I’ve tolerated it this long, but no more, Jack. We’re not over.” He’d let this go because he knew Jack, in some twisted way, was allowing him a chance to leave because he felt honor-bound to let him be ‘free.’ But no more.
Jack nodded. He got the message. Things were as they always were. Daniel wasn’t one to make his partner talk, most of the time, but he demanded the right to be present, physically and emotionally.
They spent the rest of the evening watching a hockey game, or at least pretending to. Daniel’s interest in hockey was limited to begin with, and his thoughts kept circling back to Jack. He was pretty certain, at least, that Jack knew he was in this for the long haul. For better or worse.
But he still wondered how the hell they were going to navigate this new life.
They went to bed early, but Daniel woke up in the middle of the night. Jack was shaking, breathing hard, and... taking Daniel’s pulse? Oh. That could only mean one thing. “Nightmare?” asked Daniel groggily.
Jack nodded. Daniel eased over until they were holding each other, feeling Jack’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. He didn’t ask what it was about, because just then moving to get the pen and paper would’ve been too much. “I’m here, Jack. We’re both here.”
Carefully, deliberately, Jack traced onto his back. Daniel realized his partner had found a way around the pen and paper issue. F-l-o-o-d. C-o-u-l-d-n-t w-a-r-n y-o-u.
That was about as much as Jack had ever explained when he had his voice. Nightmares tended to come with the territory on SG-1. Daniel rubbed circles on Jack’s back, trying to ground him in the present.
“Oh, Jack,” he whispered, a few tears leaking out. “I’m sorry. I keep thinking, maybe if-”
Jack put his hand over Daniel’s mouth and shook his head. In the moonlight, Daniel could see his partner automatically mouth No. Then he reached for the pad of paper.
Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault but the damned Oglani.
Rationally, Daniel knew that. He hadn’t mistranslated anything, and they’d followed procedures exactly. Jack was on point, and he activated the trap. It was as simple as that. They couldn’t have predicted a slave-catching trap, couldn’t have done anything to get Jack back sooner once he was transported away.
Still, he kept searching his mind for something, anything that would’ve led to a different outcome.
Jack lay down again, and they stayed like that for a long time. Not sleeping, just taking and giving what comfort they could.
*****
Daniel tried to be compassionate, but annoyance was creeping in. He suspected that Jack’s lack of interest in ASL was a denial mechanism, because learning ASL would make it all real. In fact, Jack wasn’t interested in much of anything. Sam and Teal’c had been over earlier with a movie, but Jack wasn’t great company and they didn’t stay long after the movie ended.
“Fine,” he announced. “You don’t have to. But I’m learning ASL, Jack, and you’ve had the TV all afternoon, so it’s my turn now.”
Jack scowled and buried himself in a book. Daniel was on the letter G when Jack slammed the book shut, stalked over, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV off.
“I was watching that.”
Jack sat on the other end of the couch in stony silence. Daniel slid over a notepad and pencil. “I at least deserve an explanation,” he said.
Jack scribbled and threw the notepad back. I just can’t.
That was not very informative. Daniel moved over, taking the notepad with him, and pulled Jack so they were leaning together. “You’re not alone,” he said, tracing the veins on Jack’s left hand.
I know.
“And we’ve established that I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”
Jack nodded.
“No more shutting me out, remember?”
Slowly, Jack took the paper. I’m not whole.
Daniel thought he understood where this was going. He kissed Jack and then made eye contact. “They took your voice, Jack, and that ended your career, not your future. Not your life. Not anything else that matters. This isn’t what we planned. But we’re both here, alive, and I for one am grateful for that much.”
Jack nodded again, and Daniel continued, “Besides, once you can sign, you can tell me all those comments you don’t want anyone else to overhear.”
That got a smile. A very small smile, but the first since he’d been captured. Daniel was relieved to see it. He knew this would be hard for Jack, but he was determined to show his partner that they still had a great future in store.
*****
Daniel slept in their bed every night, but he waited for Jack to initiate sex. Jack had always been vocal during lovemaking, for one thing, and he needed Jack to know that he was sticking around, no matter what. So, to his frustration, their physical relationship remained stalled at brief kisses and cuddling on the couch. He wanted the affirmation of life he got from their lovemaking after a close call, but didn’t want to push Jack.
They spent most of the next two days working out the rhythms of their new life: turning the guest room into Daniel’s study, working out a system where Jack could get Daniel’s attention by whistling a specific series of notes, and learning sign language. Jack wasn’t happy about the ASL lessons, but he worked at it anyway. Daniel had his suspicions that Jack would rather spend the time learning sign language than explaining why he didn’t want to. He picked up the alphabet easily enough. Jack was a physical person, so the kinetic knowledge of ASL was not terribly difficult for him.
Friday evening, Teal’c showed up and announced that Daniel was going out.
“No, I’m staying with Jack,” corrected Daniel.
“You are not,” insisted Teal’c. “You must care for yourself as well, Daniel Jackson. Major Carter is expecting you shortly.”
“She is?”
“The two of you have been anticipating this day for some time. She has prepared her larger purse to covertly bring additional snacks into the movie theater.”
He’d forgotten. The movie theater - he and Sam had been looking forward to this release for a month.
“I have purchased a new chess set.” Teal’c held it up. Chess was a good idea. He and Jack had long been able to spend hours playing highly competitive chess and barely speak a word.
“Star Wars chess?”
Clearly pleased with this latest find, Teal’c magnanimously announced, “I will allow O’Neill to play as the Jedi.”
Jack pulled out a bag of Doritos and jotted a note telling Daniel to have fun and eat too much junk. Daniel managed to do both once the screen lit up. The movie was even better than they’d hoped. Sam had outdone herself sneaking snacks in, so they left on a bit of a sugar high. On the way back they had an animated discussion about the movie, disagreeing over whose acting deserved award nominations.
But then they got back to Sam’s place, and reality came crashing down again. He’d thought for a second what Jack would say about the plot, and then it hit him that Jack wouldn’t say anything again. Daniel slumped down onto Sam’s couch as he processed that.
Sam sat down beside him, declared, “You look like you need a hug,” and proceeded to do just that. When she pulled back, she said, “You know it’s not your fault, Daniel.”
“I know.” He did, and was sure that in time his heart would catch up to his brain on the matter.
Sam knew him too well. “Then why the guilty face?”
“I miss his voice,” admitted Daniel.
“Of course you do.”
Her acceptance stunned him for a moment, because Daniel had been busy chastising himself for being so selfish.
“But Jack’s the one who -”
He never got to finish, because Sam cut him off with, “I’m sorry for his losses - his voice, the team. But I’m also going to miss having him as my CO.”
“He’s a great commander,” agreed Daniel.
“Yes. But I notice you’re not telling me that I am being selfish.”
“It’s a change in your life too,” he retorted before the meaning sunk in. It applied to him as well as her.
Sam nodded, seeing his understanding dawn. “Don’t deny your loss, Daniel.”
“I love him, voice or no voice.”
“I know. That’s what’s going to get him through this. Without you I think he’d go hide away in his cabin.”
She was right about that. “He was going to, you know.” At that, he sat up. “I should go home.”
Sam didn’t argue, just gave him another hug and sent him home with her homemade white chocolate macadamia cookies.
When he got home, Teal’c called up from the roof, “Daniel Jackson, we are viewing your moon.”
Daniel brought the cookies up with him. It was a clear night, and while it was the cold typical of a Colorado winter at least there was next to no wind chill. Teal’c leaned back from the telescope and announced, “It does not resemble cheese at all.”
Jack looked at the bag in Daniel’s hands, which was hard to see in the shadows. Hesitantly, he signed out, C-o-o-k-i-e-s?
“Yes, Sam sent her white chocolate macadamia cookies.”
Jack promptly made a ‘gimme’ motion. Daniel handed the bag over, relieved. Jack had actually used sign language to communicate with him, and he might not even have realized the importance of that step, but it wasn’t lost on Daniel.
*****
Daniel opened the door, even though Jack was closer to it. Jack didn’t like opening the door now, and Daniel wasn’t inclined to push the issue, at least for a while. So he put down his book, went to the door, and found General Hammond on the front steps.
“Come in,” he invited. “Jack’s in the living room.”
Hammond followed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, but took note of the new additions to Jack’s living room: Daniel’s favorite picture of the pyramids at Giza just as the sun rose, a small abstract sculpture given to Daniel by the King of Y’hal (a planet also known as P7Y-928), and the Egyptian-motif throw Sam had given Daniel for Christmas. The kinds of things one didn’t bring just for a temporary stay. Hammond observed but made no comment.
“Hello Jack,” he greeted.
Jack gestured to the couch, inviting the general to sit, which he did after handing over a gift-wrapped box.
“I know you’re not celebrating your retirement,” said Hammond, “but it seemed unfair to deprive you of gifts. Tessa wrapped it,” he added, which explained the purple, kitten-covered wrapping paper.
Jack adored presents and thought it was practically a crime to unwrap them carefully. He tore off the paper and revealed a fly-tying set, complete with instructional DVD. It promised to make tying great flies easy. Daniel was impressed with the general’s gift selection. Jack had commented a few times over the years that someday he wanted to learn fly fishing, and now was a good time for a new hobby.
Thank you, sir, Jack wrote. It’s great.
“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”
Jack nodded.
“It won’t be the same without you, Jack, but I’m damned glad you’re alive. We weren’t sure at first.” After a glace at Daniel, the general amended, “Except Dr. Jackson. He was convinced that the Oglani intended to keep you alive.”
Daniel had been certain. If the Oglani wanted visitors dead, there were easier ways than the trap Jack fell into. The trap itself hadn’t shown any signs of being ritualized, either - it was a quick, practical way to catch live prisoners. Of course, he had no way of knowing how long the Oglani would keep Jack alive. They’d moved quickly, but not fast enough.
Not his fault, Daniel reminded himself. Not anyone’s fault but the Oglani's.
Hammond didn’t stay long, which worked out well because there was a History Channel special Daniel had missed the first time it aired. Jack made a face when reminded about this, but Daniel had been very generous in not subjecting Jack to many specials the past few days. And anyway, he decided that the History Channel fell under the category of their relationship being the same as before. Jack never cared for the History Channel unless the show was about planes, but he suffered through and liked to prove he paid attention by citing them two or three weeks later.
They lay down together. Jack’s couch - their couch - was nice and wide, bought with just this in mind. That was familiar. The silence wasn’t. Jack’s body was warm behind him, but Daniel kept expecting the usual sarcastic remarks his partner invariably made.
This was going to be harder than he’d anticipated, he realized. They would work things out, but Daniel was struck with a pang of regret that he’d never hear Jack’s commentary again.
During the first commercial break, Jack sat up and grabbed his pen and paper. What’s the matter?
“Nothing.”
Liar.
Daniel raised his eyebrows in a slight challenge.
You didn’t complain about the retroactive assumption of the codification of Hinduism.
The History Channel had an unfortunate tendency to blindly follow the common view that Hinduism had been a codified religion for millennia, a pet peeve of Daniel’s. Modern Hinduism had in fact been shaped significantly by the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British, who wanted a codified religion that they could neatly label as such, as opposed to an incredibly diverse collection of rituals and beliefs that formed a way of life. Since he always objected, Daniel couldn’t very well deny that the special hadn’t captured his full attention. Jack knew he’d caught Daniel and was waiting for his explanation.
“I don’t-” began Daniel. That wasn’t right. “I feel selfish,” he admitted, first and foremost, “but I was just waiting for your… unique comments.”
Nice to know I’m not the only one who misses my voice.
“You know it doesn’t change anything, right?”
Jack nodded before looking down to write. In a minute he handed Daniel the paper. You were pretty clear that you’re sticking around. I’m glad you are. But I know this isn’t easy for you either.
“Not easy,” he admitted, “a lot of it because I wish I could do more. But, it is what it is. We’ll figure it out together.”
Jack nodded and grabbed Daniel’s hand. It had been somewhat reassuring for Daniel to hear from Sam that his own sense of loss was understandable, but it was considerably more reassuring coming from Jack. He leaned against Jack and let his partner pull them back down to their former position in time for the resumption of his special.
*****
Jack declined to accompany Daniel to the grocery store, and Daniel didn’t push even though he thought his partner really should get out of the house. But Jack moped around most of Monday, and by evening Daniel had had enough.
“We’re going out to dinner,” he announced.
Jack shook his head.
“Olive Garden.”
Jack loved Olive Garden, in no small part because of the unlimited breadsticks, but he shook his head again. Daniel was having none of it. “I’ve only had fettuccini alfredo once since I’ve been back.”
In a moment, Jack handed him a legal pad on which he’d written, If it means that much to you.
“It does.” That was mostly true, even. Thinking about Olive Garden, Daniel had worked up a craving for fettuccini alfredo.
It was all very normal at first. Jack drove, and if the ride was quiet, it wasn’t the first time. Everything was unremarkable until the waitress asked if she could interest them in wine. Suddenly, Daniel feared he’d made a terrible mistake. They should’ve gone to the movies, or gone to shoot pool, or anything else that didn’t usually require speaking. Even the ice fishing Jack was always trying to get him to try.
“Just water,” he said, “for both of us.” Jack always got water with his meals. He said soda did nothing for thirst. And Janet hadn’t yet cleared him for alcohol, although Daniel suspected this was a measure to prevent self-medication more than anything else. For his part, Daniel was too busy with self-recrimination to think about his own drink order.
“Jack,” he said when the waitress left. “We can go, if you want.”
Jack shook his head and pulled a little notebook out of his jacket. You’re right.
“If you’re sure.”
I could hide, but this isn’t just me. Not going to make you hide too.
Daniel was overwhelmed, wondering how he’d been so fortunate to get Jack for a partner. Jack was doing this - more than Daniel had realized he was asking - out of love.
He reached out and brushed Jack’s hand ever so briefly. Later, when they’d adjusted more to Jack’s muteness, they could discuss if they wanted to be more out. Now was not the time, so Daniel settled for that fleeting contact.
“Thank you,” he said, but what he meant - and Jack heard - was ‘I love you.’
They didn’t linger, but the meal passed without incident. Jack wasn’t entirely comfortable, which put Daniel a bit on edge, but Jack was alive and otherwise well. Daniel reminded himself that it could’ve been much worse.
The ride home was a bit more eventful, and not in a good way; they very nearly took off someone’s car door. A young woman parked on the side of the road failed to look before swinging her door open, and only Jack’s quick reflexes prevented an accident. Daniel was planning to seduce Jack as soon as they got home, so he was especially glad the door-shearing was avoided. It would’ve entirely killed what little mood he’d managed to build up.
As soon as the front door was closed behind them Daniel pulled Jack in for a long kiss. His partner responded, if not with the intensity that such a move usually elicited. This kiss was a slow burn. Daniel added a little friction, waiting until he felt the beginnings of Jack’s arousal to speak. “I want you,” he said, voice already husky with love and desire. “I need you.”
His choice of words was entirely honest as well as deliberate. Daniel was not accustomed to admitting personal needs. Oh, he would admit that he needed more hours in a day or another reference book, but rarely confessed his deeper needs. Jack had never said a word about it, but on the rare occasion Daniel actually said he needed something, Jack did his best to provide. Daniel still voiced his personal needs infrequently, but using the word conveyed to Jack the importance of a request, because it wasn’t done lightly.
Jack ran his fingers over Daniel’s kiss-swollen lips and mouthed, Daniel. He then replaced his fingers with his lips and they kissed again, this time with a bit more vigor.
Daniel needed to show Jack all the love in his heart, everything Jack’s going out to dinner had stirred up. He needed to feel how alive they both were. Making out in the entryway was a good start.
Later, twined together enjoying the aftermath of their lovemaking, he felt a little lighter. It turned out that Jack had needed the same affirmations, and either hadn’t known or hadn’t admitted it. Daniel felt another piece of his world slip back into place.
Continued in Part Two