Solace
Daniel helps Jack recover from the events of Desperate Measures. (Jack/Daniel)
Sleeping was a nightmare. They'd released him from the infirmary (as much, Janet admitted later with a teasing smile, to save them from his griping as anything else), and it was nice being in his own bed, but everything hurt. The heavy-duty pain meds had worn off, and even the white horsepills weren't quite enough. Arm hurt, back felt like one solid bruise, and Jack was only able to lie curled up on his good side, dozing in pain-hazed fits.
He'd been through this before, been shot before, but practice wasn't making it any easier.
And so, when he woke up for the hundredth time, groggy and cranky, and Daniel was crouching half-shadowed next to his bed, he was too grateful for the company to snap at him for being there. "Hey."
"Hey." Daniel didn't move. "You're okay."
"Not particularly," Jack muttered.
"No, I mean..." Daniel's hand drifted towards Jack's face, fingertips brushing the side of his face so lightly that Jack could barely feel it. "You could've been killed."
Oh. "Daniel," Jack said, raising his hand towards Daniel, "you know that I -- fuuuuuuuck." He'd moved without thinking, forgetting that his injured arm was the one closest to Daniel, and the wound was not shy at protesting. Jack dropped his arm back down, gripping it with his other hand to try to ease the pain, but the motion had him rolling half onto his back, directly against the bruise. Eyes closed, hissing against the pain, he twisted and arched up.
"Easy, easy." Daniel's hands were on him, then, warm and solid, one hand on his shoulder above the wound and one on Jack's thigh, rolling him back over. "Shh, don't move, it's okay."
"God," Jack gasped, when the pain had eased. "Ow."
Daniel's hands stroked over him, down the thigh in one long caress and then up to cradle his face. "You're okay," he said again.
With effort, Jack managed to continue his train of thought. "You know that every time we go out, every time we face a new enemy, every time we explore a new world -- every day on this job, we're risking our health. Our lives."
"You think I don't know that?" Daniel asked, softly. He dropped a light kiss on Jack's temple and moved off; before Jack could do more than moan a wordless complaint at his absence, Daniel had tugged Jack's pillow away, sitting in its place at the head of the bed and resting Jack's head on his thigh. Gentle fingers stroked rhythmically through his hair, temple to behind the ear, top of head to nape of neck, again and again in a soothing pattern.
"I know the risks," Daniel continued in a low voice. "I may not like them, but I accept them. But..."
"...but?" Jack murmured after a moment.
"...doesn't stop me from worrying," Daniel finished in something close to a whisper. He fell still for a moment -- probably, given that it was Daniel, lost in thought -- and then continued the easy strokes. Jack found himself drifting, anchored only by the touch of Daniel's hands on his head.
"I'm glad you wore the vest," Daniel said, startling Jack slightly.
"S' standard operating procedure."
"Still. Kept you safe."
Jack, after a moment, murmured, "Needs sleeves."
Daniel gave a soft, startled laugh. Jack's eyes were closed, but he could almost see Daniel smile and duck his head. "Love you," he said quietly, and Daniel's hands paused briefly.
"Go to sleep," Daniel said, and even if the words weren't there, Jack could hear the I-love-you-too in his voice.
Sleeping was a nightmare. They'd released him from the infirmary (as much, Janet admitted later with a teasing smile, to save them from his griping as anything else), and it was nice being in his own bed, but everything hurt. The heavy-duty pain meds had worn off, and even the white horsepills weren't quite enough. Arm hurt, back felt like one solid bruise, and Jack was only able to lie curled up on his good side, dozing in pain-hazed fits.
He'd been through this before, been shot before, but practice wasn't making it any easier.
And so, when he woke up for the hundredth time, groggy and cranky, and Daniel was crouching half-shadowed next to his bed, he was too grateful for the company to snap at him for being there. "Hey."
"Hey." Daniel didn't move. "You're okay."
"Not particularly," Jack muttered.
"No, I mean..." Daniel's hand drifted towards Jack's face, fingertips brushing the side of his face so lightly that Jack could barely feel it. "You could've been killed."
Oh. "Daniel," Jack said, raising his hand towards Daniel, "you know that I -- fuuuuuuuck." He'd moved without thinking, forgetting that his injured arm was the one closest to Daniel, and the wound was not shy at protesting. Jack dropped his arm back down, gripping it with his other hand to try to ease the pain, but the motion had him rolling half onto his back, directly against the bruise. Eyes closed, hissing against the pain, he twisted and arched up.
"Easy, easy." Daniel's hands were on him, then, warm and solid, one hand on his shoulder above the wound and one on Jack's thigh, rolling him back over. "Shh, don't move, it's okay."
"God," Jack gasped, when the pain had eased. "Ow."
Daniel's hands stroked over him, down the thigh in one long caress and then up to cradle his face. "You're okay," he said again.
With effort, Jack managed to continue his train of thought. "You know that every time we go out, every time we face a new enemy, every time we explore a new world -- every day on this job, we're risking our health. Our lives."
"You think I don't know that?" Daniel asked, softly. He dropped a light kiss on Jack's temple and moved off; before Jack could do more than moan a wordless complaint at his absence, Daniel had tugged Jack's pillow away, sitting in its place at the head of the bed and resting Jack's head on his thigh. Gentle fingers stroked rhythmically through his hair, temple to behind the ear, top of head to nape of neck, again and again in a soothing pattern.
"I know the risks," Daniel continued in a low voice. "I may not like them, but I accept them. But..."
"...but?" Jack murmured after a moment.
"...doesn't stop me from worrying," Daniel finished in something close to a whisper. He fell still for a moment -- probably, given that it was Daniel, lost in thought -- and then continued the easy strokes. Jack found himself drifting, anchored only by the touch of Daniel's hands on his head.
"I'm glad you wore the vest," Daniel said, startling Jack slightly.
"S' standard operating procedure."
"Still. Kept you safe."
Jack, after a moment, murmured, "Needs sleeves."
Daniel gave a soft, startled laugh. Jack's eyes were closed, but he could almost see Daniel smile and duck his head. "Love you," he said quietly, and Daniel's hands paused briefly.
"Go to sleep," Daniel said, and even if the words weren't there, Jack could hear the I-love-you-too in his voice.