SG: Toy Soldiers [1-4]
toy soldiers
Spoilers: Set around Lost City, before & beyond. Also has sort of spoilers for Atlantis’ “The Rising Pt 1”
Rating: Teen
Category: Mini!Fic. AU. has a bit of everything in it.
Summary: Jack’s not sure how he lost them all.
Notes: Obviously this is an AU. I’ve taken a lot of liberties with timelines and events and twisted them to suit my own purposes. Please remember that when things appear slightly wrong ;) All mistakes are my own; it's had a few read throughs but everyone's busy with Nano so it, unfortunately, hasn't had a beta. And of course I'm on my "Give me Reviews!" kick so I'm too impatient to wait to post it!
---
prologue
Jack’s not sure how he lost them all.
It feels like one day he woke up and they were just gone. In reality, he knows it didn’t happen that way, but things went kinda hazy after he lost Carter. He thought losing Daniel again would be easier than the first few times he lost him - Jack figured he’d practiced so he should have had the routine covered. His first grade teacher had lied to him though - practice didn’t make anything any easier.
He never thought he’d lose Teal’c - Teal’c was invincible. The type of warrior kids grew up dreaming they could be. Hercules crossed with Will Smith, except possibly Teal’c missed out on Will’s rapping talents. Jack still isn’t entirely convinced Teal’c isn’t coming back. Then again, he isn’t entirely convinced Carter and Daniel aren’t coming back either. He keeps staring at the infirmary door, waiting for one of them to stick their head around the corner and make a smart-ass comment.
Only they never come.
And Fraiser never comes by either. Jack doesn’t ask where she is.
---
It takes exactly four weeks and five days for the SGC to fall apart without Carter and Daniel’s brains to hold it together - that’s four weeks and five days longer than Jack thought it would hold. He stands in the control room and watches as the technicians flail about in panic, fingers smashing at keyboards and swearing at blank screens.
They shoot the hostiles before talking, and Jack can hear Daniel telling him it’s better to ask the questions before you kill everyone; dead men don’t talk very well. Spent cartridges fall with a gentle tinkling; it sounds like pieces of the SGC falling down around him, accompanied by the steady rhythm of bodies thumping to the ground, and harmonised by the screaming of the dead.
Standing with his crutch under his arm and a sidearm held loosely in his fingers, Jack watches the soldiers neutralise the dead - he thinks it’s unlikely the dead men will still use their weapons.
It takes Siler eight days to get the programs back up and running. It used to take Carter less than eight hours.
---
Jack wants to retire; his knees ache whether it’s warm or cold, and he walks with a limp. SG-1’s roster for the month is empty, and dust gathers in lockers which haven’t been emptied out yet.
Hammond won’t let him retire; he sends Jack for counselling.
Jack’s no stranger to grief, loss, or mourning, and he doesn’t think the counselling helps. Especially not when the counsellor is a twenty eight year old graduate who’s greatest loss was her pet cat when she was twelve.
Hammond doesn’t make him go back, and Jack stops handing in letters of resignation.
---
Five months, two weeks and three days since the SGC should have fallen apart it’s still standing. They found small pieces that almost fill the spots where Carter, Daniel, Teal’c and Fraiser used to be, and as long as the road doesn’t get to bumpy everything teeters just fine.
It’s a mild fall morning in September when suddenly the road turns to a rutted track leading straight down the mountainside and into hell.
Hammond gives Jack an address; it’s written on lined paper torn from the corner of a legal pad. Five names are listed under the address, and there are photos paper-clipped to the scrap. Jack stares at the pictures; he is numb inside.
Hammond looks old and tired and worn beyond his years.
“We need them.”
one
One bathroom between five people is simply not enough. Especially not when two of them are girls, and all of them are sort-of teenagers.
Carter’s banging on the door again, but Jack ignores her as he studies himself in the mirror. It’s been almost a year since Thor turned him into a mini-me, and Jack’s beginning to wonder if something went wrong in the cloning process and he’s now doomed to stay fourteen years old for the rest of his life. Not, he thinks privately, that being ‘young’ again is all bad, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of bulk and height again. He never realized just how much he enjoyed being tall and able to buy alcohol before.
“Come on, sir!” Carter hassles, still pounding.
“Give me a minute,” he yells back, “I’m shaving.”
“You don’t need to shave yet, you don’t even have bum-fluff,” she retorts.
Once upon a time he thought he was in love with Carter. That was before she realized that with no chain of command between them, there was no need to keep her opinions in check. And Carter has a lot of opinions these days.
“I’m practicing,” he yells back. “I don’t want to forget how and then cut myself when I really need to.”
He studies his face in the mirror, moving his head as close as possible to the glass. Smooth as a baby’s bottom, he thinks with disgust. At least he’s got a bit of growth under his arms and in other areas, so maybe his body will grow up again.
Jack doesn’t like remembering he was a very late bloomer the first time around; he was half hoping it would be different this time.
“I’ll buy some balloons and shaving cream after school,” Carter’s saying, “and you can practice to your heart’s content on the deck. I need the bathroom now, Jack.”
She only uses his name at school and when she’s really pissed at him.
Jack sighs and climbs off the small stool they keep by the tub, making sure he puts it back so no one knows he stands on it to stare at himself in the mirror.
“Alright already,” he grumbles, shrugging into his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. “I’m done.”
Carter’s standing in front of the door in her pajamas - pink shorts and a little white tank top - with bed-hair and unmatched socks on her feet.
“We’re going to be late again,” she informs him icily.
“Only if you take too long.”
She glares. “What were you doing in there? Wait, I don’t want to know.”
She stalks into the bathroom and slams the door shut behind her. It rattles in its frame, and Jack is mildly relieved they don’t have pictures on the wall, because there’s no way they’d hang straight with the amount of times Carter slams the doors.
He never knew what a temper she had before, and is glad he isn’t in love with her anymore, though sometimes he wishes he still was.
---
School is… school. Jack didn’t like it the first time around, and he doesn’t think it’s any different this time. Lunch is spent in the cafeteria at a table they marked as theirs the first day back after summer break.
Carter spends her time racing through textbooks thicker than the bible, and Daniel spends his time flicking through colorful books from the library with titles like ‘Life as an Ancient Egyptian’ and ‘Visit Ancient Rome in a Day’. He chortles to himself, and Jack knows all the teachers think he’s quite mad. Fraiser reads trashy romance novels or tells rude jokes he’s sure she didn’t pick up at the SGC. Teal’c eats an ice cream sundae with chocolate sauce every day, and won’t talk until it’s finished. Not that Teal’c talks anymore than he used to.
Jack sighs and uses a plastic fork to churn lukewarm lasagna into a gooey mess.
“Do you have to do that?” Carter demands, not looking up as she uses her plastic fork to accurately spear a small tomato in her salad.
“Do what?”
“That thing with your fork.”
He scrapes his plastic fork across the plastic plate again. “You mean that?”
She glares at him without looking up from her book, and he resumes twirling cold cheese around his fork without scraping it across the plate.
Once upon a time he was in love with Carter. They ate Jello in a commissary because the commissary didn’t stock red wine, candles and romantic music. And there was that pesky thing with the regs to think about too.
Jack really misses Jello - the school won’t serve it because of the sugar content. Jack doesn’t point out that ice cream with chocolate sauce probably has more sugar, because doubtlessly Teal’c would take offense and flatten him on the sports field. Again.
---
He’s in basic science with Teal’c (Fraiser, Carter and Daniel are all in advanced, of course) and doodling chevrons on his legal pad when someone knocks on the classroom door. The class rustles with interest, and he looks up from his sketch, curious.
He’s spent so much time staring into the mirror at his baby-smooth face and admiring his lovely brown hair, that he almost doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is grayer than he remembers, and something about his skin just looks old. He walks with a limp, and there’s no smile or skip in his step.
Jack stares at himself - past or future, he can’t really tell - and thinks that he remembered himself looking better.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your class, Ma’am,” he says to the teacher, “but I need to talk to Murray ... er... Murray Jones, and Jonathan O’Reilly.”
The teacher nods and beckons him forward; he can feel everyone in the class watching his back as he approaches Jack O’Neill.
The man, Jack is gratified to see, looks just as uncomfortable and freaked out as he feels. They’d parted amicably enough, both happy not to have to deal with each other again, and now suddenly, here they both are.
That could be me, Jack realizes. That is me.
As he and Teal’c follow the older man out of the classroom into a hall where Carter, Frasier and Daniel are already waiting, Jack thinks for the first time that he is possibly better off being the clone.
two
Sam can’t remember exactly whose idea it was to begin with. She thinks maybe Daniel said something (It’s going to be hard for him, being all by himself) and that started the ball rolling. Maybe the actual idea was hers, the thought that if they were all cloned Jack wouldn’t be alone and they’d be there as a sort of ‘backup’ if they were ever needed.
It took her exactly ten minutes after waking up in her thirteen year old body to realize it was a really, really dumb idea. Possibly her dumbest idea ever.
Maybe she’d imagined in some twisted, illogical part of her brain, that without the military between them they could just be… them. Them. She’d liked the idea of them at one time. She used to lie awake in the dark and imagine his eyes and his hands and his smile. She had shivered inside when he looked at her, and when his eyes softened she thought she might melt.
Now Sam is fourteen and older than ever, and she doesn’t know if she made the right decision. She didn’t count on his bitterness, or her own regrets. Didn’t bargain on the awkwardness or unease. She also hadn’t thought about Janet, Daniel and Teal’c.
She wonders when exactly she fell out of love.
---
Janet’s elbow is digging into her ribs and Daniel’s thigh is hot against her own. Being young again means four of them can pile into the back of a car, all arms and legs and hips that still have no shape. From her seat in the middle she can see both their profiles - old and young.
The cloned Jack - she can call him Jack now - looks surprisingly young today. His scrawny shoulders and too long neck emphasize the stubborn defiance in his chin; he’s not happy or comfortable, but Sam forgot how to talk to him so she can’t ask him what’s wrong. He stares out the window, ignoring them all, and she wonders how he feels - at least she had a choice about being cloned. She turns away when her eyes burn, and looks at the Colonel driving the car.
She studies the man she remembers, surprised at his age. She doesn’t remember his hands being so big or his shoulders so hunched. She wonders what she’ll look like now; whether the three gray hairs she found have multiplied, and whether the sunspot on her left hand has gotten bigger.
Sam looks at her palm. Her skin is smooth and soft; inside she feels anything but.
---
It must have been her idea, Sam thinks as she follows the Colonel down a familiar hall. No one else would have an ego big enough to think she might be irreplaceable. Daniel is walking next to her, and he stumbles over nothing, jostling her. Actually, she amends, Daniel might also have had the ego issue. No way would it have been Janet or Teal’c’s idea.
She tries very hard to ignore the stares of personnel they encounter - it isn’t every day children are allowed in the SGC, much less five teenagers following Colonel Jack O’Neill around like a string of ducklings. It’s hard though, when the people staring are people she knows, and they have no idea who or what she is. She wonders what they’ll think when they find out.
She wonders what the Colonel thinks.
They reach the briefing room in silence; she doesn’t ever remember her friends being so quiet for so long a period of time. The Colonel shuts the door behind them, and stands awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his BDUs.
“Well,” he says, “take a seat.”
She’s still not sure she’s used to hearing his adult voice again, and she’s not sure she likes how old he really is.
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on now?” Daniel asks. His voice is uncertain, as though he’s not sure how to address the old man they used to know. Sam understands how he feels - she’s just spent a year getting used to deferring to everyone older than twenty again. It’s not easy to suddenly treat this man as an equal like before.
And he’s old. She’s not sure she can get over that.
General Hammond enters the room before the Colonel has a chance to answer - Sam is surprised to realize she has to look up to him. She’s not short for a fourteen year old - she’s taller than everyone else - but she had always thought of Hammond as…short.
“Would you all like to sit down?” Hammond says, echoing the Colonel’s earlier request.
Sam may have been at school for the last year, but even she remembers the basic chain of command. The briefing room chairs are roomier than she remembers, and much more comfortable than the chairs in fourth period math.
There is silence around the table; Sam fiddles with the hem of her T shirt and stares at the young hands in her lap.
“Well,” the Colonel says finally, “this is awkward.”
Hammond, Daniel and Janet all force a chuckle, but the sound is strained.
“I’m sure you’re all aware that this isn’t just a social call,” Hammond beings once the awkward chuckle dies a quick death. “When Major Carter suggested… well…” he stumbles over the words, unable to phrase it.
She’s not sure she could phrase it herself - after all, how do you tell someone you suggested you should get yourself cloned into a mini-me so that one day you could save the world if you were needed. That not only sounded very egocentric (and Sam is quite ashamed now, of her ego) but also very stupid. People just didn’t get cloned into mini-me’s in the real world.
“Seeing as no one is getting to the point, I’m going to assume our older selves aren’t around anymore?” Daniel asks bluntly.
She sees the Colonel flinch at the words, and wonders whether they’d ever done anything about how they felt. She looks at her Jack, and thinks that no, they probably didn’t.
“Yes,” General Hammond says. “Almost six months ago.”
“So why are we here?” Janet asks.
“We need Dr. Jackson,” Hammond says simply.
Sam is almost offended that they don’t need her too, before she remembers she’s working on her ego.
“For what, exactly?”
“We need to find the lost city,” Hammond says. “Anubis is gathering his forces, and we haven’t got a chance in hell to stand against him. Our best bet is finding the Ancient’s city and hopefully something we can use.”
“Like a weapon,” Sam says.
“But I don’t remember anything about the Lost City,” Daniel says calmly. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
“SG-9 found some ruins - they’re Ancient.”
“And?” Daniel asks rudely - high school hasn’t done anything for his manners.
“The work our people have been able to do on the translating suggest there could be some information about the location of the lost city in those ruins,” Hammond explains. “The truth is, Dr. Jackson, we’re desperate and I believe you are our best bet.”
There is silence in the room again as Daniel mulls over the request, his smooth forehead crinkled in a familiar frown of concentration.
“What about the rest of us?” Janet asks, breaking the silence. Sam looks at Janet; if the situation weren’t so serious she might almost be amused - Janet is so small she looks like she’s been swallowed by the chair she’s sitting in.
A flicker of something ignites inside Sam. Maybe things will change now. Maybe she’ll remember that there’s more to life than science homework and worrying about zits and a future she has to relive.
“We need to discuss your possible options,” Hammond says at length. “I know this last year can’t have been easy for you all. When you suggested and agreed to the cloning process, you did so under the belief that you might one day be called into service with the SGC again. Given our current situation, that time has come a lot sooner than we all anticipated, but I would like to offer you the opportunity to be involved with the SGC again, in your former positions.”
Realistically Sam knows she’s an adult, and that she is perfectly capable to work at the SGC. But living as a child again for a year has done something to her confidence, and she’s begun to believe people when they look at her and see a child. How will the personnel in the SGC react to having five children as working members of a highly classified military operation? How will they react to those children being the clones of four members who they buried six months ago?
And for that matter, how will they react to having two Jack O’Neills?
Sam’s not entirely sure it’s a good idea, but then her last few ideas haven’t been all that great anyway. “Well,” she says, “it’s got to be better than school.”
It’s not really like there is much of a choice between math and wormholes anyway.
three
Jack’s not sure if he’s more upset because they exist, or because he wasn’t told about them.
“They didn’t want to tell you, because you wouldn’t have wanted them to do it,” Hammond announces, as though he’s reading Jack’s mind.
“Damn right I wouldn’t have wanted them to do it.”
“They didn’t just do it for you, Jack.”
Jack’s not egotistical enough to believe that they’d all ‘sacrifice’ themselves just for him. He’s more inclined to believe Daniel or Carter realized it would be a way to semi-immortalize themselves and persuaded the others it was a good idea. Jack might have been persuaded himself, he thinks, if he’d been given the choice. After all, being young again would have to have its perks. Particularly along the lines of knees that worked and hair that was still the right color.
“Someone should have told me.”
Morally Jack has a right to be upset, but realistically everything is need-to-know, and quite frankly, Jack didn’t need to know.
“Maybe,” Hammond says, “but what good would it have done?”
None at all, Jack admits reluctantly.
“Jack,” Hammond sighs, sounding old. “Bring them back safely.”
A funny smile tugs at Jack’s lips, and he looks at Hammond still seated in his chair. “Why does it feel like I’m taking them on a field trip?”
Hammond smiles too. “They’re not kids, Jack, as much as they might look like them.”
Jack remembers his robot clone on Altair. He remembers dropping his mini-clone off at school. Both times he’d felt uncomfortably relieved that it wasn’t him, even though they were the same person.
“I better not find anything about baby-sitting on my resume,” he says.
“As long as you make sure Dr. Jackson doesn’t touch anything he’s not supposed to touch.”
Jack thinks Hammond looks entirely too innocent.
---
They troop into the gate room one after the other, looking far too young to be carrying weapons and balancing packs on their backs. As it is, the BDUs are too big even for Teal’c who’s still the most solid out of all of them, and his staff weapon towers over his head.
Carter wears her hair long now, and it’s tied back in a neat, regulation braid hidden beneath the large shadow of her Kevlar helmet that’s too big for her head. She stares at him stubbornly, daring him to comment on her appearance, and Jack wisely turns his gaze to Daniel.
Daniel’s hair is shaggy again, but Jack’s relatively relieved to see Daniel kept up the use of contacts - glasses and field work just didn’t go well together in the past. The BDU sleeves are rolled up, and Jack raises an eyebrow when he catches sight of a bright blue T shirt poking through the rather large gaps between the buttons.
The clone which started this entire mess is the smallest out of all the four clones before him. Jack recognizes his familiar stance, hands in pockets and a blank look on his carefully controlled, very young features. Jack lets his gaze rest for a minute on the distantly familiar lines of his clone’s face, before looking up at the control room where Hammond is waiting.
“We’re ready, sir,” he says finally.
Next to Hammond, Sergeant Harriman looks completely gob smacked at the presence of the four teenagers in the gate room, and Jack wonders idly if Hammond has informed the rest of the SGC who exactly these children are. He almost wishes he could see people’s reactions, but something about watching people meet the clones of his dead team mates is unnaturally painful.
“Dial out,” Hammond orders.
Jack watches the clones as the gate dials; they look apprehensive but he can detect a glimmer of excitement on Carter’s face and a look of relief on Teal’c’s. He realizes that maybe life hasn’t exactly been easy for them, and maybe they regret making the decision to clone themselves.
As the gate locks into place, Jack thinks about his own Carter, and wonders what she’d thought when she woke up and saw her clone for the first time.
---
The planet is quiet and secure, Hammond said, and the ruins are abandoned. Daniel’s clone almost hyperventilates at the sight of the huge stone columns and buildings and broken rooms, his eyes bulging with excitement. A strange, enthusiastic staggering of his feet reminds Jack of Daniel’s very first forays through the gate. Jack wonders when Daniel became so jaded that he failed to skip and dance and bounce with excitement at the sight of new ruins.
Rittevon and Parkes, the resident geeks under the care of SG-9, look shocked to see four children under Jack’s care, until Jack explains who the children are. Then they look absolutely stunned, and neither of them can string together a coherent sentence for several minutes. The members of SG-9 are much the same, though they do manage to keep their mouths from hanging open in surprise.
“God, I hate BDUs,” the Daniel clone mutters irritably. He glances at Jack, and tips his head back defiantly. “I can’t move,” he states.
“What do you want me to do?” Jack demands.
The clone’s eyes narrow. “You’re even more of an ass when you’re old than when you’re a teenager,” the clone says pompously before dumping his pack on the ground and unbuttoning the BDU jacket.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack demands, staring at the unexpected behavior.
“Getting rid of the damn things.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
Jack had forgotten how much Daniel annoyed him at times. Funny how death makes you remember people’s good points and gloss over their bad.
“You’re on a mission!”
“So? I can’t move in these things!” By now, the clone has stripped off the jacket and is working on shedding his trousers. He struggles with getting the legs over his boots though, losing his balance and landing on his ass.
“Nice,” Jack’s clone says breezily. “That was almost as graceful as the last time in gym.”
“That was your fault,” the Daniel clone counters sharply, tugging ineffectually at the trousers. “Damn it. Sam, give me a hand?”
“How is you making an idiot of yourself my fault?” Jack’s clone asks, watching as the younger Carter grabs hold of Daniel’s trousers and starts tugging.
“Daniel Jackson is correct, O’Neill,” the Teal’c clone inserts, also watching as the two clones struggle with Daniel’s trousers. “You did tie his shoelaces together.”
The Carter clone succeeds in tugging one leg free of a boot, and moves onto the second. If they weren’t on another planet, and they weren’t the clones of his dead team mates, Jack would find the spectacle of Carter dragging Daniel along on his ass by one leg of his trousers pretty damn funny. However, they are on a mission, and missions didn’t usually involve archaeologists offering everyone a free strip-how, much less a strip-show that involves a Major in the USAF undressing him.
“Excuse me, but does the word ‘mission’ ring a bell for anyone?” Jack demands.
“Chill, Jack,” Daniel’s clone grunts. “Sam! That hurts!”
“You should have taken your boots off first,” Carter snaps, tugging again. The trousers jerk free of Daniel’s boot, and the clone stands up, dusting off his jean-clad backside and straightening his bright blue T Shirt.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” the clone announces, gathering up his abandoned BDUs and stuffing them back into his pack.
“You sure you don’t want a cup of tea?” Jack asks acidly, glaring at the clones. They’re acting like children, he thinks with disgust, instead of the trained professionals they supposedly are. Maybe somehow during the cloning process, Thor stuffed up and reverted their brains back to adolescents as well as their bodies.
“That attitude is what’s making your hair turn gray,” Daniel’s clone says after a few moments of following in silence.
Jack wonders if killing Daniel’s clone would be counted as murder, seeing as the real Daniel is technically dead.
---
Hammond had told them the planet was secure, abandoned and untouched for a long time. Jack makes a mental note to tell Hammond that whenever he says something along those lines, it always backfires and SG-1 ends up in trouble.
“Hurry it up!” Jack yells, aiming his P-90 up at the swooping death gliders.
“It’s not that easy, Colonel!” Carter’s voice, even yelling at him, sounds so much higher and more girly than he’s used to.
“We can’t hold these bastards forever!” Captain Delaney yells over to Jack, his P-90 also spitting bullets at the oncoming craft.
“Damn it, Carter!” Jack yells. “Cover me!” he orders SG-9.
The clones, minus Teal’c who is with SG-9, are all crowded around a familiar device attached to the wall.
“Oh, crap,” Jack says, realizing what it is. “That… that thing…”
“Yeah,” his clone agrees, understanding.
It’s strange to have someone understand what it was like with all that stuff in his head, and Jack looks at his clone for a second before looking back at the device stuck to the alien wall.
“We need to get that information downloaded,” Carter is saying, “but I haven’t got time to interface it before Anubis’ forces arrive.”
“They’ve already arrived,” Jack points out sharply.
Carter rolls her eyes at him, and then looks slightly surprised at her rudeness. “Sorry, sir,” she mumbles, blushing.
“Just work on getting the damn thing downloaded!” Jack snaps, turning to look at the clear blue sky.
“You don’t understand, Colonel,” Carter says, “I can’t do it in two minutes. We have to destroy it, or Anubis will get it.”
“Destroy it?” Jack repeats dumbly, looking down at Carter.
Blue eyes, so achingly familiar, meet his evenly. “I can’t do it, sir,” she says quietly.
He nods. “Fine, fall back to SG-9. I’ll set the C-4.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she says, licking her lips.
“Just go, Carter,” He snaps impatiently. “You too, Daniel. And you… you.”
His clone grins briefly at the stumbling order, and Jack thinks that he’s the only person he knows who would find that remotely amusing. Despite the situation, the awkwardness and the unreality of everything, a smile tugs at his lips. Someone with his sense of humor… excellent.
“You’re not going to, are you?” his clone asks, ignoring the order.
“Not going to what?”
“Plant the C-4.”
Jack scowls at his clone. Someone with his tactics too, apparently. “Follow you orders,” he tells his clone.
“I should do it,” the clone says abruptly. “They need you at the SGC. I’m just… a clone.”
Death gliders are flying overhead, and the air is filled with the rattle and scream of weapons and battle. Jack stares at his clone. “No,” he says honestly. “I’m an old man. My knees are shot and my team is dead. You… you still have your team and your knees. Not to mention the hair. You and the clones are what the SGC needs now. They don’t need me.”
“Jack…” His clone stops after saying his name, staring up at him.
Jack shakes his head. “We need this knowledge,” he says quietly. “I have to do it, and you have to be there for the SGC now. All of you. Things are heating up, and earth needs them more than me.”
“Carter and Daniel were stupid enough to believe they were irreplaceable,” the clone scowls.
“They’re right,” Jack agrees quietly. “So you need to keep an eye on them and their egos.”
The clone hesitates for a second. “Don’t take too long,” he says, and turns away to give Jack privacy as he sticks his head into an alien machine.
He hopes, vaguely, that it won’t be as bad this time as it was last time. His eyes have barely shut before the device grabs him, and his last thought is wondering whether his clone might remember how to speak Ancient.
---
“I told you not to touch anything!” Hammond snaps angrily, glaring at Jack.
Roomy or not, it’s not like Jack’s happy about having his head turned into a storage archive again. “No, sir, I believe you told me to make sure Daniel didn’t touch anything.”
“Me?” Daniel splutters. “If we look back on all missions, Jack gets us into trouble more than I do.”
“You died more than I did.”
The words hang in the air, a dark crystal of nightmares Jack’s trying very hard to escape.
“Apparently,” Daniel whispers.
The crystal shatters and Jack wonders how his world became so fucked up.
four
It happens a lot faster this time, Jack knows. He doesn’t remember much about his own turn before, when the Ancient’s knowledge invaded his brain the first time, but he recalls the feeling of panic and the headaches and confusion. He hated the way he seemed to lose control, and the way the knowledge inside him used his body as an empty vessel.
His older self, the original Jack O’Neill, is sitting silently next to Jack into the humvee, eyes glazed with a deceiving blankness. There is more knowledge and power and hope inside the man’s head, Jack knows, than the vacant eyes give credit too. If Daniel or Carter knew what was inside the man’s head, they would have fought tooth and nail to be the one allowed to stick their head in the device.
Pity, really, that neither of them possesses the damn Ancient gene. It would be more useful with one of them, Jack thinks dully, turning his attention away from the older man and staring at the empty strip of runway.
Two seconds later a Tel’tac materializes, a familiar Tok’ra stepping from it.
Jack studies Jacob curiously; the man looks a lot older than Jack remembers him looking. Then again, everyone looks older than he remembers. Still, out of everyone Jack’s seen again, he would have thought that Jacob would age the least given his Tok’ra. Apparently even Tok’ra got old, Jack realizes.
Hammond intercepts Jacob before the Tok’ra reaches the vehicles, and Jack guesses Hammond is explaining the situation to him. His guess is confirmed when Jacob lurches backward awkwardly, staring with a stunned expression at the vehicles. Hammond reaches out an arm and steadies Carter’s father, still talking.
Eventually, Jacob nods. Hammond turns to the vehicles and jerks his thumb across, indicating they can get out.
Jack’s the first one out, feeling significantly younger and shorter than a General he used to consider a friend, even if the man had a snake in his head and was the father of his second in command.
“Holy Hannah,” Jacob whispers after a heartbeat, his eyes settling on Carter. “Sam…”
“Hi, Dad,” Carter says, smiling shyly.
“Oh, God, Sam,” Jacob says, and lurches toward her. Jack feels like a voyeur as he watches Jacob reunite with his daughter, and wonders why cloning wasn’t around when he lost Charlie.
“I really hate to interrupt this,” Hammond says gently, looking awkward, “but we really need to get you going.”
The Tel’tac, like everything else, appears bigger and roomier and almost more interesting from his shorter perspective. He picks his usual corner and settles down silently as the others climb on board and the Tel’tac smoothly takes off.
---
He had dreams about flying through space, but the dreams never quite lived up to the color and silence and immenseness of its reality. Jack stares down at the planet below where everyone except him and Teal’c have ringed down to.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Jack asks Teal’c, shattering the silence in the Tel’tac.
“Yes.”
Apparently a year in high school with air-heads and jocks hasn’t done anything to improve Teal’c’s vocabulary.
“What are you going to do to now?” Jack asks, turning from his view to face Teal’c.
The Jaffa, looking small and childlike against the hull of the Tel’tac, is silent for some time, but Jack’s used to Teal’c’s silence before speaking.
“The Jaffa would not understand or accept me as Teal’c,” he says quietly. “They believe Teal’c is dead, and any attempting to replace him would be met with distrust.”
“You’re quite important to the Jaffa,” Jack says blandly.
“No,” Teal’c denies. “Once Teal’c was a great name amongst Jaffa, but his death has damaged the Jaffa conviction of freedom.”
Jack was suspicious that maybe Teal’c was placing himself on too high a pedestal, but he knew the Jaffa had seen Teal’c as a savior. As someone who stood up to fight against oppression and won time and time again. For Teal’c to lose and die would be a harsh bite of reality, and Jack supposes that if the rebellion is as shaky as it used to be, Teal’c’s loss of legend status could throw the rebellion into disarray as people lost faith.
“So what are you doing to do now?” Jack repeats his question.
“Grow strong and old again,” Teal’c says simply. “Fight again for Jaffa freedom.”
Teal’c’s always been tenacious, and Jack’s in awe of his friend’s strength of convictions. “I’ll help you,” Jack says quietly. “I’ll help you as much as I can.”
Teal’c nods. “Thank you, O’Neill.”
The Tel’tac falls silent once more as the two of them are lost in thought. Jack’s not sure what he’s going to do now, whether he even wants to be at the SGC with his older version still around. Not to mention, he thinks with a smile on his face, the fact that the BDUs are too damn big.
---
The Tel’tac is zipping over the ice fields of Antarctica, skimming over blinding white and glaring snow. Jack shields his eyes and tries to take in the vastness. He’s been here before, long ago, when he and Carter inadvertently discovered the second Stargate. And then there was that jaunt when he got himself infected with an Ancient’s virus. He wasn’t really in a frame of mind then, to appreciate the awesomeness of the landscape, and the weather was exactly conducive to sightseeing. Currently he’s got nothing to do except worry and fuss and panic, so he decides staring at the scenery would be more productive.
Unexpectedly, the Tel’tac jerks to a halt, and Jack is caught unawares. He sprawls across the hard floor of the Tel’tac and tumbles to a stop in the rings device. His older self is already standing there, looking down at him.
Without stopping to ask anyone or say anything to Jacob, Daniel and Carter join them in the ring device. Teal’c hangs back, shaking his head. A second later the rings flash and when Jack opens his eyes he’s lying on a smooth floor in an alien room that feels hauntingly familiar.
“Atlantis,” Daniel’s saying, moving around the room with a barely controlled eagerness. “We found Atlantis, Jack! The lost city!”
The older Colonel ignores Daniel’s ramblings and heads straight the middle of the room, clutching the ZPM in his hands. There’s a chair, which Carter immediately tells him is like the chair on the planet where they found the ZPM.
“So we’re going to look at pictures of more planets?” Jack asks dryly, watching his older self fiddle with the ZPM and the chair.
“I don’t think so,” Carter says, shaking her head.
Two seconds later the Colonel climbs into the chair, and the room lights up. Ten minutes later Anubis’ ships are blown out of the sky, and the Colonel is lying unconscious in a stasis pod.
Jack’s not sure exactly what happened, or what will happen next, but suddenly he’s staring at the chair. He climbs onto it carefully and settles into it. It holds him easily, and he gains a strange feeling of comfort from the alien technology. He closes his eyes and relaxes, and feels something whoosh to life. When he opens his eyes, he’s staring up at a bright display of planets and stars swirling gracefully through the sky.
“You can do it too,” Daniel whispers in awe, staring at him.
Maybe there is room for two Jack O’Neill’s on Earth after all, Jack thinks, staring at the model of earth spinning slowly on its axis.
---
Parts 5-8 Here.
Spoilers: Set around Lost City, before & beyond. Also has sort of spoilers for Atlantis’ “The Rising Pt 1”
Rating: Teen
Category: Mini!Fic. AU. has a bit of everything in it.
Summary: Jack’s not sure how he lost them all.
Notes: Obviously this is an AU. I’ve taken a lot of liberties with timelines and events and twisted them to suit my own purposes. Please remember that when things appear slightly wrong ;) All mistakes are my own; it's had a few read throughs but everyone's busy with Nano so it, unfortunately, hasn't had a beta. And of course I'm on my "Give me Reviews!" kick so I'm too impatient to wait to post it!
---
prologue
Jack’s not sure how he lost them all.
It feels like one day he woke up and they were just gone. In reality, he knows it didn’t happen that way, but things went kinda hazy after he lost Carter. He thought losing Daniel again would be easier than the first few times he lost him - Jack figured he’d practiced so he should have had the routine covered. His first grade teacher had lied to him though - practice didn’t make anything any easier.
He never thought he’d lose Teal’c - Teal’c was invincible. The type of warrior kids grew up dreaming they could be. Hercules crossed with Will Smith, except possibly Teal’c missed out on Will’s rapping talents. Jack still isn’t entirely convinced Teal’c isn’t coming back. Then again, he isn’t entirely convinced Carter and Daniel aren’t coming back either. He keeps staring at the infirmary door, waiting for one of them to stick their head around the corner and make a smart-ass comment.
Only they never come.
And Fraiser never comes by either. Jack doesn’t ask where she is.
---
It takes exactly four weeks and five days for the SGC to fall apart without Carter and Daniel’s brains to hold it together - that’s four weeks and five days longer than Jack thought it would hold. He stands in the control room and watches as the technicians flail about in panic, fingers smashing at keyboards and swearing at blank screens.
They shoot the hostiles before talking, and Jack can hear Daniel telling him it’s better to ask the questions before you kill everyone; dead men don’t talk very well. Spent cartridges fall with a gentle tinkling; it sounds like pieces of the SGC falling down around him, accompanied by the steady rhythm of bodies thumping to the ground, and harmonised by the screaming of the dead.
Standing with his crutch under his arm and a sidearm held loosely in his fingers, Jack watches the soldiers neutralise the dead - he thinks it’s unlikely the dead men will still use their weapons.
It takes Siler eight days to get the programs back up and running. It used to take Carter less than eight hours.
---
Jack wants to retire; his knees ache whether it’s warm or cold, and he walks with a limp. SG-1’s roster for the month is empty, and dust gathers in lockers which haven’t been emptied out yet.
Hammond won’t let him retire; he sends Jack for counselling.
Jack’s no stranger to grief, loss, or mourning, and he doesn’t think the counselling helps. Especially not when the counsellor is a twenty eight year old graduate who’s greatest loss was her pet cat when she was twelve.
Hammond doesn’t make him go back, and Jack stops handing in letters of resignation.
---
Five months, two weeks and three days since the SGC should have fallen apart it’s still standing. They found small pieces that almost fill the spots where Carter, Daniel, Teal’c and Fraiser used to be, and as long as the road doesn’t get to bumpy everything teeters just fine.
It’s a mild fall morning in September when suddenly the road turns to a rutted track leading straight down the mountainside and into hell.
Hammond gives Jack an address; it’s written on lined paper torn from the corner of a legal pad. Five names are listed under the address, and there are photos paper-clipped to the scrap. Jack stares at the pictures; he is numb inside.
Hammond looks old and tired and worn beyond his years.
“We need them.”
one
One bathroom between five people is simply not enough. Especially not when two of them are girls, and all of them are sort-of teenagers.
Carter’s banging on the door again, but Jack ignores her as he studies himself in the mirror. It’s been almost a year since Thor turned him into a mini-me, and Jack’s beginning to wonder if something went wrong in the cloning process and he’s now doomed to stay fourteen years old for the rest of his life. Not, he thinks privately, that being ‘young’ again is all bad, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of bulk and height again. He never realized just how much he enjoyed being tall and able to buy alcohol before.
“Come on, sir!” Carter hassles, still pounding.
“Give me a minute,” he yells back, “I’m shaving.”
“You don’t need to shave yet, you don’t even have bum-fluff,” she retorts.
Once upon a time he thought he was in love with Carter. That was before she realized that with no chain of command between them, there was no need to keep her opinions in check. And Carter has a lot of opinions these days.
“I’m practicing,” he yells back. “I don’t want to forget how and then cut myself when I really need to.”
He studies his face in the mirror, moving his head as close as possible to the glass. Smooth as a baby’s bottom, he thinks with disgust. At least he’s got a bit of growth under his arms and in other areas, so maybe his body will grow up again.
Jack doesn’t like remembering he was a very late bloomer the first time around; he was half hoping it would be different this time.
“I’ll buy some balloons and shaving cream after school,” Carter’s saying, “and you can practice to your heart’s content on the deck. I need the bathroom now, Jack.”
She only uses his name at school and when she’s really pissed at him.
Jack sighs and climbs off the small stool they keep by the tub, making sure he puts it back so no one knows he stands on it to stare at himself in the mirror.
“Alright already,” he grumbles, shrugging into his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. “I’m done.”
Carter’s standing in front of the door in her pajamas - pink shorts and a little white tank top - with bed-hair and unmatched socks on her feet.
“We’re going to be late again,” she informs him icily.
“Only if you take too long.”
She glares. “What were you doing in there? Wait, I don’t want to know.”
She stalks into the bathroom and slams the door shut behind her. It rattles in its frame, and Jack is mildly relieved they don’t have pictures on the wall, because there’s no way they’d hang straight with the amount of times Carter slams the doors.
He never knew what a temper she had before, and is glad he isn’t in love with her anymore, though sometimes he wishes he still was.
---
School is… school. Jack didn’t like it the first time around, and he doesn’t think it’s any different this time. Lunch is spent in the cafeteria at a table they marked as theirs the first day back after summer break.
Carter spends her time racing through textbooks thicker than the bible, and Daniel spends his time flicking through colorful books from the library with titles like ‘Life as an Ancient Egyptian’ and ‘Visit Ancient Rome in a Day’. He chortles to himself, and Jack knows all the teachers think he’s quite mad. Fraiser reads trashy romance novels or tells rude jokes he’s sure she didn’t pick up at the SGC. Teal’c eats an ice cream sundae with chocolate sauce every day, and won’t talk until it’s finished. Not that Teal’c talks anymore than he used to.
Jack sighs and uses a plastic fork to churn lukewarm lasagna into a gooey mess.
“Do you have to do that?” Carter demands, not looking up as she uses her plastic fork to accurately spear a small tomato in her salad.
“Do what?”
“That thing with your fork.”
He scrapes his plastic fork across the plastic plate again. “You mean that?”
She glares at him without looking up from her book, and he resumes twirling cold cheese around his fork without scraping it across the plate.
Once upon a time he was in love with Carter. They ate Jello in a commissary because the commissary didn’t stock red wine, candles and romantic music. And there was that pesky thing with the regs to think about too.
Jack really misses Jello - the school won’t serve it because of the sugar content. Jack doesn’t point out that ice cream with chocolate sauce probably has more sugar, because doubtlessly Teal’c would take offense and flatten him on the sports field. Again.
---
He’s in basic science with Teal’c (Fraiser, Carter and Daniel are all in advanced, of course) and doodling chevrons on his legal pad when someone knocks on the classroom door. The class rustles with interest, and he looks up from his sketch, curious.
He’s spent so much time staring into the mirror at his baby-smooth face and admiring his lovely brown hair, that he almost doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is grayer than he remembers, and something about his skin just looks old. He walks with a limp, and there’s no smile or skip in his step.
Jack stares at himself - past or future, he can’t really tell - and thinks that he remembered himself looking better.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your class, Ma’am,” he says to the teacher, “but I need to talk to Murray ... er... Murray Jones, and Jonathan O’Reilly.”
The teacher nods and beckons him forward; he can feel everyone in the class watching his back as he approaches Jack O’Neill.
The man, Jack is gratified to see, looks just as uncomfortable and freaked out as he feels. They’d parted amicably enough, both happy not to have to deal with each other again, and now suddenly, here they both are.
That could be me, Jack realizes. That is me.
As he and Teal’c follow the older man out of the classroom into a hall where Carter, Frasier and Daniel are already waiting, Jack thinks for the first time that he is possibly better off being the clone.
two
Sam can’t remember exactly whose idea it was to begin with. She thinks maybe Daniel said something (It’s going to be hard for him, being all by himself) and that started the ball rolling. Maybe the actual idea was hers, the thought that if they were all cloned Jack wouldn’t be alone and they’d be there as a sort of ‘backup’ if they were ever needed.
It took her exactly ten minutes after waking up in her thirteen year old body to realize it was a really, really dumb idea. Possibly her dumbest idea ever.
Maybe she’d imagined in some twisted, illogical part of her brain, that without the military between them they could just be… them. Them. She’d liked the idea of them at one time. She used to lie awake in the dark and imagine his eyes and his hands and his smile. She had shivered inside when he looked at her, and when his eyes softened she thought she might melt.
Now Sam is fourteen and older than ever, and she doesn’t know if she made the right decision. She didn’t count on his bitterness, or her own regrets. Didn’t bargain on the awkwardness or unease. She also hadn’t thought about Janet, Daniel and Teal’c.
She wonders when exactly she fell out of love.
---
Janet’s elbow is digging into her ribs and Daniel’s thigh is hot against her own. Being young again means four of them can pile into the back of a car, all arms and legs and hips that still have no shape. From her seat in the middle she can see both their profiles - old and young.
The cloned Jack - she can call him Jack now - looks surprisingly young today. His scrawny shoulders and too long neck emphasize the stubborn defiance in his chin; he’s not happy or comfortable, but Sam forgot how to talk to him so she can’t ask him what’s wrong. He stares out the window, ignoring them all, and she wonders how he feels - at least she had a choice about being cloned. She turns away when her eyes burn, and looks at the Colonel driving the car.
She studies the man she remembers, surprised at his age. She doesn’t remember his hands being so big or his shoulders so hunched. She wonders what she’ll look like now; whether the three gray hairs she found have multiplied, and whether the sunspot on her left hand has gotten bigger.
Sam looks at her palm. Her skin is smooth and soft; inside she feels anything but.
---
It must have been her idea, Sam thinks as she follows the Colonel down a familiar hall. No one else would have an ego big enough to think she might be irreplaceable. Daniel is walking next to her, and he stumbles over nothing, jostling her. Actually, she amends, Daniel might also have had the ego issue. No way would it have been Janet or Teal’c’s idea.
She tries very hard to ignore the stares of personnel they encounter - it isn’t every day children are allowed in the SGC, much less five teenagers following Colonel Jack O’Neill around like a string of ducklings. It’s hard though, when the people staring are people she knows, and they have no idea who or what she is. She wonders what they’ll think when they find out.
She wonders what the Colonel thinks.
They reach the briefing room in silence; she doesn’t ever remember her friends being so quiet for so long a period of time. The Colonel shuts the door behind them, and stands awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his BDUs.
“Well,” he says, “take a seat.”
She’s still not sure she’s used to hearing his adult voice again, and she’s not sure she likes how old he really is.
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on now?” Daniel asks. His voice is uncertain, as though he’s not sure how to address the old man they used to know. Sam understands how he feels - she’s just spent a year getting used to deferring to everyone older than twenty again. It’s not easy to suddenly treat this man as an equal like before.
And he’s old. She’s not sure she can get over that.
General Hammond enters the room before the Colonel has a chance to answer - Sam is surprised to realize she has to look up to him. She’s not short for a fourteen year old - she’s taller than everyone else - but she had always thought of Hammond as…short.
“Would you all like to sit down?” Hammond says, echoing the Colonel’s earlier request.
Sam may have been at school for the last year, but even she remembers the basic chain of command. The briefing room chairs are roomier than she remembers, and much more comfortable than the chairs in fourth period math.
There is silence around the table; Sam fiddles with the hem of her T shirt and stares at the young hands in her lap.
“Well,” the Colonel says finally, “this is awkward.”
Hammond, Daniel and Janet all force a chuckle, but the sound is strained.
“I’m sure you’re all aware that this isn’t just a social call,” Hammond beings once the awkward chuckle dies a quick death. “When Major Carter suggested… well…” he stumbles over the words, unable to phrase it.
She’s not sure she could phrase it herself - after all, how do you tell someone you suggested you should get yourself cloned into a mini-me so that one day you could save the world if you were needed. That not only sounded very egocentric (and Sam is quite ashamed now, of her ego) but also very stupid. People just didn’t get cloned into mini-me’s in the real world.
“Seeing as no one is getting to the point, I’m going to assume our older selves aren’t around anymore?” Daniel asks bluntly.
She sees the Colonel flinch at the words, and wonders whether they’d ever done anything about how they felt. She looks at her Jack, and thinks that no, they probably didn’t.
“Yes,” General Hammond says. “Almost six months ago.”
“So why are we here?” Janet asks.
“We need Dr. Jackson,” Hammond says simply.
Sam is almost offended that they don’t need her too, before she remembers she’s working on her ego.
“For what, exactly?”
“We need to find the lost city,” Hammond says. “Anubis is gathering his forces, and we haven’t got a chance in hell to stand against him. Our best bet is finding the Ancient’s city and hopefully something we can use.”
“Like a weapon,” Sam says.
“But I don’t remember anything about the Lost City,” Daniel says calmly. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
“SG-9 found some ruins - they’re Ancient.”
“And?” Daniel asks rudely - high school hasn’t done anything for his manners.
“The work our people have been able to do on the translating suggest there could be some information about the location of the lost city in those ruins,” Hammond explains. “The truth is, Dr. Jackson, we’re desperate and I believe you are our best bet.”
There is silence in the room again as Daniel mulls over the request, his smooth forehead crinkled in a familiar frown of concentration.
“What about the rest of us?” Janet asks, breaking the silence. Sam looks at Janet; if the situation weren’t so serious she might almost be amused - Janet is so small she looks like she’s been swallowed by the chair she’s sitting in.
A flicker of something ignites inside Sam. Maybe things will change now. Maybe she’ll remember that there’s more to life than science homework and worrying about zits and a future she has to relive.
“We need to discuss your possible options,” Hammond says at length. “I know this last year can’t have been easy for you all. When you suggested and agreed to the cloning process, you did so under the belief that you might one day be called into service with the SGC again. Given our current situation, that time has come a lot sooner than we all anticipated, but I would like to offer you the opportunity to be involved with the SGC again, in your former positions.”
Realistically Sam knows she’s an adult, and that she is perfectly capable to work at the SGC. But living as a child again for a year has done something to her confidence, and she’s begun to believe people when they look at her and see a child. How will the personnel in the SGC react to having five children as working members of a highly classified military operation? How will they react to those children being the clones of four members who they buried six months ago?
And for that matter, how will they react to having two Jack O’Neills?
Sam’s not entirely sure it’s a good idea, but then her last few ideas haven’t been all that great anyway. “Well,” she says, “it’s got to be better than school.”
It’s not really like there is much of a choice between math and wormholes anyway.
three
Jack’s not sure if he’s more upset because they exist, or because he wasn’t told about them.
“They didn’t want to tell you, because you wouldn’t have wanted them to do it,” Hammond announces, as though he’s reading Jack’s mind.
“Damn right I wouldn’t have wanted them to do it.”
“They didn’t just do it for you, Jack.”
Jack’s not egotistical enough to believe that they’d all ‘sacrifice’ themselves just for him. He’s more inclined to believe Daniel or Carter realized it would be a way to semi-immortalize themselves and persuaded the others it was a good idea. Jack might have been persuaded himself, he thinks, if he’d been given the choice. After all, being young again would have to have its perks. Particularly along the lines of knees that worked and hair that was still the right color.
“Someone should have told me.”
Morally Jack has a right to be upset, but realistically everything is need-to-know, and quite frankly, Jack didn’t need to know.
“Maybe,” Hammond says, “but what good would it have done?”
None at all, Jack admits reluctantly.
“Jack,” Hammond sighs, sounding old. “Bring them back safely.”
A funny smile tugs at Jack’s lips, and he looks at Hammond still seated in his chair. “Why does it feel like I’m taking them on a field trip?”
Hammond smiles too. “They’re not kids, Jack, as much as they might look like them.”
Jack remembers his robot clone on Altair. He remembers dropping his mini-clone off at school. Both times he’d felt uncomfortably relieved that it wasn’t him, even though they were the same person.
“I better not find anything about baby-sitting on my resume,” he says.
“As long as you make sure Dr. Jackson doesn’t touch anything he’s not supposed to touch.”
Jack thinks Hammond looks entirely too innocent.
---
They troop into the gate room one after the other, looking far too young to be carrying weapons and balancing packs on their backs. As it is, the BDUs are too big even for Teal’c who’s still the most solid out of all of them, and his staff weapon towers over his head.
Carter wears her hair long now, and it’s tied back in a neat, regulation braid hidden beneath the large shadow of her Kevlar helmet that’s too big for her head. She stares at him stubbornly, daring him to comment on her appearance, and Jack wisely turns his gaze to Daniel.
Daniel’s hair is shaggy again, but Jack’s relatively relieved to see Daniel kept up the use of contacts - glasses and field work just didn’t go well together in the past. The BDU sleeves are rolled up, and Jack raises an eyebrow when he catches sight of a bright blue T shirt poking through the rather large gaps between the buttons.
The clone which started this entire mess is the smallest out of all the four clones before him. Jack recognizes his familiar stance, hands in pockets and a blank look on his carefully controlled, very young features. Jack lets his gaze rest for a minute on the distantly familiar lines of his clone’s face, before looking up at the control room where Hammond is waiting.
“We’re ready, sir,” he says finally.
Next to Hammond, Sergeant Harriman looks completely gob smacked at the presence of the four teenagers in the gate room, and Jack wonders idly if Hammond has informed the rest of the SGC who exactly these children are. He almost wishes he could see people’s reactions, but something about watching people meet the clones of his dead team mates is unnaturally painful.
“Dial out,” Hammond orders.
Jack watches the clones as the gate dials; they look apprehensive but he can detect a glimmer of excitement on Carter’s face and a look of relief on Teal’c’s. He realizes that maybe life hasn’t exactly been easy for them, and maybe they regret making the decision to clone themselves.
As the gate locks into place, Jack thinks about his own Carter, and wonders what she’d thought when she woke up and saw her clone for the first time.
---
The planet is quiet and secure, Hammond said, and the ruins are abandoned. Daniel’s clone almost hyperventilates at the sight of the huge stone columns and buildings and broken rooms, his eyes bulging with excitement. A strange, enthusiastic staggering of his feet reminds Jack of Daniel’s very first forays through the gate. Jack wonders when Daniel became so jaded that he failed to skip and dance and bounce with excitement at the sight of new ruins.
Rittevon and Parkes, the resident geeks under the care of SG-9, look shocked to see four children under Jack’s care, until Jack explains who the children are. Then they look absolutely stunned, and neither of them can string together a coherent sentence for several minutes. The members of SG-9 are much the same, though they do manage to keep their mouths from hanging open in surprise.
“God, I hate BDUs,” the Daniel clone mutters irritably. He glances at Jack, and tips his head back defiantly. “I can’t move,” he states.
“What do you want me to do?” Jack demands.
The clone’s eyes narrow. “You’re even more of an ass when you’re old than when you’re a teenager,” the clone says pompously before dumping his pack on the ground and unbuttoning the BDU jacket.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack demands, staring at the unexpected behavior.
“Getting rid of the damn things.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
Jack had forgotten how much Daniel annoyed him at times. Funny how death makes you remember people’s good points and gloss over their bad.
“You’re on a mission!”
“So? I can’t move in these things!” By now, the clone has stripped off the jacket and is working on shedding his trousers. He struggles with getting the legs over his boots though, losing his balance and landing on his ass.
“Nice,” Jack’s clone says breezily. “That was almost as graceful as the last time in gym.”
“That was your fault,” the Daniel clone counters sharply, tugging ineffectually at the trousers. “Damn it. Sam, give me a hand?”
“How is you making an idiot of yourself my fault?” Jack’s clone asks, watching as the younger Carter grabs hold of Daniel’s trousers and starts tugging.
“Daniel Jackson is correct, O’Neill,” the Teal’c clone inserts, also watching as the two clones struggle with Daniel’s trousers. “You did tie his shoelaces together.”
The Carter clone succeeds in tugging one leg free of a boot, and moves onto the second. If they weren’t on another planet, and they weren’t the clones of his dead team mates, Jack would find the spectacle of Carter dragging Daniel along on his ass by one leg of his trousers pretty damn funny. However, they are on a mission, and missions didn’t usually involve archaeologists offering everyone a free strip-how, much less a strip-show that involves a Major in the USAF undressing him.
“Excuse me, but does the word ‘mission’ ring a bell for anyone?” Jack demands.
“Chill, Jack,” Daniel’s clone grunts. “Sam! That hurts!”
“You should have taken your boots off first,” Carter snaps, tugging again. The trousers jerk free of Daniel’s boot, and the clone stands up, dusting off his jean-clad backside and straightening his bright blue T Shirt.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” the clone announces, gathering up his abandoned BDUs and stuffing them back into his pack.
“You sure you don’t want a cup of tea?” Jack asks acidly, glaring at the clones. They’re acting like children, he thinks with disgust, instead of the trained professionals they supposedly are. Maybe somehow during the cloning process, Thor stuffed up and reverted their brains back to adolescents as well as their bodies.
“That attitude is what’s making your hair turn gray,” Daniel’s clone says after a few moments of following in silence.
Jack wonders if killing Daniel’s clone would be counted as murder, seeing as the real Daniel is technically dead.
---
Hammond had told them the planet was secure, abandoned and untouched for a long time. Jack makes a mental note to tell Hammond that whenever he says something along those lines, it always backfires and SG-1 ends up in trouble.
“Hurry it up!” Jack yells, aiming his P-90 up at the swooping death gliders.
“It’s not that easy, Colonel!” Carter’s voice, even yelling at him, sounds so much higher and more girly than he’s used to.
“We can’t hold these bastards forever!” Captain Delaney yells over to Jack, his P-90 also spitting bullets at the oncoming craft.
“Damn it, Carter!” Jack yells. “Cover me!” he orders SG-9.
The clones, minus Teal’c who is with SG-9, are all crowded around a familiar device attached to the wall.
“Oh, crap,” Jack says, realizing what it is. “That… that thing…”
“Yeah,” his clone agrees, understanding.
It’s strange to have someone understand what it was like with all that stuff in his head, and Jack looks at his clone for a second before looking back at the device stuck to the alien wall.
“We need to get that information downloaded,” Carter is saying, “but I haven’t got time to interface it before Anubis’ forces arrive.”
“They’ve already arrived,” Jack points out sharply.
Carter rolls her eyes at him, and then looks slightly surprised at her rudeness. “Sorry, sir,” she mumbles, blushing.
“Just work on getting the damn thing downloaded!” Jack snaps, turning to look at the clear blue sky.
“You don’t understand, Colonel,” Carter says, “I can’t do it in two minutes. We have to destroy it, or Anubis will get it.”
“Destroy it?” Jack repeats dumbly, looking down at Carter.
Blue eyes, so achingly familiar, meet his evenly. “I can’t do it, sir,” she says quietly.
He nods. “Fine, fall back to SG-9. I’ll set the C-4.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she says, licking her lips.
“Just go, Carter,” He snaps impatiently. “You too, Daniel. And you… you.”
His clone grins briefly at the stumbling order, and Jack thinks that he’s the only person he knows who would find that remotely amusing. Despite the situation, the awkwardness and the unreality of everything, a smile tugs at his lips. Someone with his sense of humor… excellent.
“You’re not going to, are you?” his clone asks, ignoring the order.
“Not going to what?”
“Plant the C-4.”
Jack scowls at his clone. Someone with his tactics too, apparently. “Follow you orders,” he tells his clone.
“I should do it,” the clone says abruptly. “They need you at the SGC. I’m just… a clone.”
Death gliders are flying overhead, and the air is filled with the rattle and scream of weapons and battle. Jack stares at his clone. “No,” he says honestly. “I’m an old man. My knees are shot and my team is dead. You… you still have your team and your knees. Not to mention the hair. You and the clones are what the SGC needs now. They don’t need me.”
“Jack…” His clone stops after saying his name, staring up at him.
Jack shakes his head. “We need this knowledge,” he says quietly. “I have to do it, and you have to be there for the SGC now. All of you. Things are heating up, and earth needs them more than me.”
“Carter and Daniel were stupid enough to believe they were irreplaceable,” the clone scowls.
“They’re right,” Jack agrees quietly. “So you need to keep an eye on them and their egos.”
The clone hesitates for a second. “Don’t take too long,” he says, and turns away to give Jack privacy as he sticks his head into an alien machine.
He hopes, vaguely, that it won’t be as bad this time as it was last time. His eyes have barely shut before the device grabs him, and his last thought is wondering whether his clone might remember how to speak Ancient.
---
“I told you not to touch anything!” Hammond snaps angrily, glaring at Jack.
Roomy or not, it’s not like Jack’s happy about having his head turned into a storage archive again. “No, sir, I believe you told me to make sure Daniel didn’t touch anything.”
“Me?” Daniel splutters. “If we look back on all missions, Jack gets us into trouble more than I do.”
“You died more than I did.”
The words hang in the air, a dark crystal of nightmares Jack’s trying very hard to escape.
“Apparently,” Daniel whispers.
The crystal shatters and Jack wonders how his world became so fucked up.
four
It happens a lot faster this time, Jack knows. He doesn’t remember much about his own turn before, when the Ancient’s knowledge invaded his brain the first time, but he recalls the feeling of panic and the headaches and confusion. He hated the way he seemed to lose control, and the way the knowledge inside him used his body as an empty vessel.
His older self, the original Jack O’Neill, is sitting silently next to Jack into the humvee, eyes glazed with a deceiving blankness. There is more knowledge and power and hope inside the man’s head, Jack knows, than the vacant eyes give credit too. If Daniel or Carter knew what was inside the man’s head, they would have fought tooth and nail to be the one allowed to stick their head in the device.
Pity, really, that neither of them possesses the damn Ancient gene. It would be more useful with one of them, Jack thinks dully, turning his attention away from the older man and staring at the empty strip of runway.
Two seconds later a Tel’tac materializes, a familiar Tok’ra stepping from it.
Jack studies Jacob curiously; the man looks a lot older than Jack remembers him looking. Then again, everyone looks older than he remembers. Still, out of everyone Jack’s seen again, he would have thought that Jacob would age the least given his Tok’ra. Apparently even Tok’ra got old, Jack realizes.
Hammond intercepts Jacob before the Tok’ra reaches the vehicles, and Jack guesses Hammond is explaining the situation to him. His guess is confirmed when Jacob lurches backward awkwardly, staring with a stunned expression at the vehicles. Hammond reaches out an arm and steadies Carter’s father, still talking.
Eventually, Jacob nods. Hammond turns to the vehicles and jerks his thumb across, indicating they can get out.
Jack’s the first one out, feeling significantly younger and shorter than a General he used to consider a friend, even if the man had a snake in his head and was the father of his second in command.
“Holy Hannah,” Jacob whispers after a heartbeat, his eyes settling on Carter. “Sam…”
“Hi, Dad,” Carter says, smiling shyly.
“Oh, God, Sam,” Jacob says, and lurches toward her. Jack feels like a voyeur as he watches Jacob reunite with his daughter, and wonders why cloning wasn’t around when he lost Charlie.
“I really hate to interrupt this,” Hammond says gently, looking awkward, “but we really need to get you going.”
The Tel’tac, like everything else, appears bigger and roomier and almost more interesting from his shorter perspective. He picks his usual corner and settles down silently as the others climb on board and the Tel’tac smoothly takes off.
---
He had dreams about flying through space, but the dreams never quite lived up to the color and silence and immenseness of its reality. Jack stares down at the planet below where everyone except him and Teal’c have ringed down to.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Jack asks Teal’c, shattering the silence in the Tel’tac.
“Yes.”
Apparently a year in high school with air-heads and jocks hasn’t done anything to improve Teal’c’s vocabulary.
“What are you going to do to now?” Jack asks, turning from his view to face Teal’c.
The Jaffa, looking small and childlike against the hull of the Tel’tac, is silent for some time, but Jack’s used to Teal’c’s silence before speaking.
“The Jaffa would not understand or accept me as Teal’c,” he says quietly. “They believe Teal’c is dead, and any attempting to replace him would be met with distrust.”
“You’re quite important to the Jaffa,” Jack says blandly.
“No,” Teal’c denies. “Once Teal’c was a great name amongst Jaffa, but his death has damaged the Jaffa conviction of freedom.”
Jack was suspicious that maybe Teal’c was placing himself on too high a pedestal, but he knew the Jaffa had seen Teal’c as a savior. As someone who stood up to fight against oppression and won time and time again. For Teal’c to lose and die would be a harsh bite of reality, and Jack supposes that if the rebellion is as shaky as it used to be, Teal’c’s loss of legend status could throw the rebellion into disarray as people lost faith.
“So what are you doing to do now?” Jack repeats his question.
“Grow strong and old again,” Teal’c says simply. “Fight again for Jaffa freedom.”
Teal’c’s always been tenacious, and Jack’s in awe of his friend’s strength of convictions. “I’ll help you,” Jack says quietly. “I’ll help you as much as I can.”
Teal’c nods. “Thank you, O’Neill.”
The Tel’tac falls silent once more as the two of them are lost in thought. Jack’s not sure what he’s going to do now, whether he even wants to be at the SGC with his older version still around. Not to mention, he thinks with a smile on his face, the fact that the BDUs are too damn big.
---
The Tel’tac is zipping over the ice fields of Antarctica, skimming over blinding white and glaring snow. Jack shields his eyes and tries to take in the vastness. He’s been here before, long ago, when he and Carter inadvertently discovered the second Stargate. And then there was that jaunt when he got himself infected with an Ancient’s virus. He wasn’t really in a frame of mind then, to appreciate the awesomeness of the landscape, and the weather was exactly conducive to sightseeing. Currently he’s got nothing to do except worry and fuss and panic, so he decides staring at the scenery would be more productive.
Unexpectedly, the Tel’tac jerks to a halt, and Jack is caught unawares. He sprawls across the hard floor of the Tel’tac and tumbles to a stop in the rings device. His older self is already standing there, looking down at him.
Without stopping to ask anyone or say anything to Jacob, Daniel and Carter join them in the ring device. Teal’c hangs back, shaking his head. A second later the rings flash and when Jack opens his eyes he’s lying on a smooth floor in an alien room that feels hauntingly familiar.
“Atlantis,” Daniel’s saying, moving around the room with a barely controlled eagerness. “We found Atlantis, Jack! The lost city!”
The older Colonel ignores Daniel’s ramblings and heads straight the middle of the room, clutching the ZPM in his hands. There’s a chair, which Carter immediately tells him is like the chair on the planet where they found the ZPM.
“So we’re going to look at pictures of more planets?” Jack asks dryly, watching his older self fiddle with the ZPM and the chair.
“I don’t think so,” Carter says, shaking her head.
Two seconds later the Colonel climbs into the chair, and the room lights up. Ten minutes later Anubis’ ships are blown out of the sky, and the Colonel is lying unconscious in a stasis pod.
Jack’s not sure exactly what happened, or what will happen next, but suddenly he’s staring at the chair. He climbs onto it carefully and settles into it. It holds him easily, and he gains a strange feeling of comfort from the alien technology. He closes his eyes and relaxes, and feels something whoosh to life. When he opens his eyes, he’s staring up at a bright display of planets and stars swirling gracefully through the sky.
“You can do it too,” Daniel whispers in awe, staring at him.
Maybe there is room for two Jack O’Neill’s on Earth after all, Jack thinks, staring at the model of earth spinning slowly on its axis.
---
Parts 5-8 Here.