Ficathon Story: Silence, Part II
Janet and Cassie came over with homemade fudge, and since Cassie was naturally talkative it was less noticeable that Jack couldn’t speak. Cassie had an entertaining take on the inadequacies of her high school physics class and an even more entertaining rendition of Sam’s horrified reactions to said inadequacies.
When that topic was exhausted, she looked around the living room and said, “So, I guess this means I don’t have to pretend I don’t know about you two, huh?” When both Jack and Daniel stared, she added, “If you didn’t want people to see you kissing, you really should’ve closed the door all the way.”
Daniel recovered enough to ask, “When?”
“Thanksgiving.”
That made sense, he supposed. He hadn’t been back from the ascended plane long, and Jack had been very, very thankful to have him back. Daniel was thankful to be back, and they had apparently failed to close the door entirely in their haste to express that gratitude. He was glad they’d only been kissing.
“You didn’t even tell me?” asked Janet.
Cassie looked at her mother, slightly guilty. “I thought maybe you knew, but if you didn’t, then I shouldn’t… not that I thought you would say or do anything, but I didn’t want to put you in a position where…” she trailed off.
Janet considered this, then nodded. “You were protecting all of us. When did you get so grown up?”
Never one to let a good opportunity go to waste, Cassie suggested, “That has to have some weight in curfew negotiations, right?”
At that, Jack smiled - a sight Daniel appreciated now that its appearance had become less frequent.
By the time they left Jack was in a pleasant mood both because Cassie was a great storyteller and because Janet had finally given up and grudgingly agreed not to make Jack see a counselor, at least for the time being. Since he couldn’t actually talk to a counselor, it might only frustrate him more. However, she insisted that he had to keep a journal and write in it every single day. Nobody had to see it, she promised, and Daniel swore he’d never open it. Jack wasn’t exactly thrilled, but since Mackenzie (or Quackzenie, as Jack called the psychiatrist) was the alternative, he dutifully kept the journal. She’d also made him promise to at least look at the online support group she’d found.
That afternoon was the first time Jack actually seemed to enjoy their daily ASL lesson. It was entirely possible that the amount of fudge they’d consumed gave them sugar highs. They left the video behind altogether and made up their own signs, for words like stargate, zat, and Goa’uld. Jack’s suggestions for Goa’uld got a little outrageous, and they ended up laughing. Of course, Jack’s laughter was silent now, with the occasional gasp, but it was the first time he’d laughed since being captured.
“Are those glowing eyes or beer goggles?” asked Daniel through his laughter.
Better than an undulating vampire, wrote Jack.
This was good. This was them, the same as they’d always been. When Sam stopped in to drop off a casserole and brownies, both Jack and Daniel were grinning like idiots over prospective signs for staff weapon. The joviality was contagious, because Sam’s face lit up with a smile as Jack rummaged around for ice cream to put on brownies.
When Jack had another nightmare that night, Daniel clung to the recent memory of the afternoon, of the laughter and fun. Jack had a nightmare at least once a night, usually some variation of not being able to save people because he couldn’t speak.
F-l-o-o-d, Jack signed out.
Daniel pulled up the blanket, which had ended up around their shins somehow, then settled back down facing his partner. Since Jack didn’t seem inclined to fall asleep right way, he suggested, “We never did decide on a sign for staff weapon.”
Jack had another idea altogether, which was to roll so he was half on top of Daniel and proceed to kiss him with clear intent. This, Daniel decided, was an even better middle-of-the-night activity, and he joined in wholeheartedly.
*****
Daniel had coaxed Jack out for a matinee and was pleasantly surprised when Jack suggested picking up a few groceries on the way home. He hoped that meant Jack was slowly accepting this new reality. They were in the cereal aisle when someone called out, “Jack O’Neill!?!” Jack turned, recognized the man, and looked at Daniel.
“Jack was recently injured in the line of duty,” he explained, holding out his hand. “I’m Daniel Jackson.”
“Ben Ewell. Injured?” asked the man through their handshake.
Having applied himself to learning ASL, Jack was improving, but he still had to do a lot of spelling out. On the other hand, Daniel found that sign language wasn’t quite as easy for him as verbal language, so they were making progress together.
He translated, “Jack says it’s good to see you.”
Daniel was thankful that Ben handled the situation well. He was clearly thrown off-balance, but addressed Jack. “I saw you on TV about a year ago. What’ve you been up to?”
“Classified,” said Daniel, four letters into Jack’s spelling.
“Of course. Bitch of an injury, but give the fish hell.”
Smiling, Daniel translated, “Planning on it.”
“Some of us have a poker game every other Tuesday. I’m in the phone book. Look me up if you want in.”
“Thank you,” relayed Daniel.
“I’ve gotta run, hot date later tonight. Good to see you, Jack. Daniel, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, and then, “Jack says take care.”
“You too.”
“So, poker nights,” he said when Ben was gone.
Maybe.
He didn’t know if it was his disability stopping Jack, or the very real concern that old Air Force buddies weren’t likely to approve of their relationship, or something else he couldn’t even think of at the moment. He doubted Jack would pursue the invitation, but decided that overall this encounter could be considered a success.
And if later Jack threw the remote at the TV during their ASL lesson when they got home, well, he had good reason to be angry. Daniel just picked up the remote and rewound the DVD. He focused on learning the signs himself, as that was the most effective tactic when Jack was less than engaged in the learning process. Jack would sulk, but eventually get back to the lesson. Also, he had a truly amazing capacity to absorb material while sulking. That was proving very useful with ASL.
*****
The day before Daniel went back to work, General Hammond stopped by again.
“This is partially an official visit,” he explained, “Jack, I know your retirement paperwork is being processed, but you have a wealth of knowledge about the stargate program and what it’s like offworld. You know how difficult it is to train new personnel, both civilian and military. The Air Force would like you to consider writing a training manual. You’d be well compensated, of course.”
Jack nodded, which prompted Hammond to hand over a laptop case. “We thought you’d say yes. This computer doesn’t go online. It can’t be hacked into, or so I’m told. Major Carter personally transferred your files and set it up as you prefer.”
Bless Sam for that. Jack liked his computers to operate more or less the same way. It had taken him months to adjust when the Air Force switched manufacturers and the new computers were organized differently. Jack already had more than enough frustration to deal with.
Daniel was a bit concerned about leaving Jack alone all day to wallow. Realistically, he knew he had to get back to work, and there was only so much he could do to help. Jack would have to muddle through adjusting to retirement. Still, the training manual was going to help. It would give Jack something useful and productive to occupy his days.
“I have a list of topics we’re particularly interested in,” said the general, handing Jack a sheet of paper.
Jack scanned the list, then grabbed a pen and wrote on the back, Can do. Missed a few, though.
“We’re counting on your additions,” Hammond said.
Personally, Daniel was looking forward to seeing how Jack’s unique sense of humor manifested itself in the training manual. This could be very interesting.
“He can write a whole chapter on Goa’uld baiting,” commented Daniel.
“I don’t think we need to encourage that.”
“Strategic,” clarified Daniel. “How to keep the Goa’uld focused on you and thus protect your team.”
When your archaeologist lets you, added Jack with a pointed look at Daniel.
“In my defense, sometimes I was a necessary diversion.”
Jack held up his hands and gave an exaggerated sigh.
Hammond smiled and shook his head slightly, in the way that always made Daniel feel a bit like the general was indulging them. “Do take time to indulge yourself, Jack.”
Carter’s got the indulgent baked goods covered, wrote Jack. It was Sam’s way of feeling like she was helpful.
“He’s already planning an extensive garden.” Daniel thought that, given it had been years since Jack had last had a garden, starting small might be a good idea. Jack disagreed. Maybe he needed the grand plans to occupy his mind. “I think he’s going to plant every vegetable that has a chance of growing in Colorado.”
“That’s a good way to see what plants take to your land,” agreed Hammond. “If you need help weeding, the girls are always trying to hire out their services in the summer.”
I’ll keep them in mind.
It turned out that the general was a gardener himself, of a sort. He had a garden because it was a good grandfather-granddaughters activity. Hammond was a good man, and if he felt a bit awkward - about relating to Jack or their increasingly obvious relationship - he showed no sign of it. Before he left, he promised to give Jack some pumpkin seeds, saved from last summer’s bountiful crop.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Teal’c called because someone on base had talked up the “Die Hard” movies and he wanted to schedule a movie marathon. Jack and Teal’c always nitpicked action movies, pointing out flaws like unbelievably stupid villains (a perennial favorite) or points where the hero could’ve minimized civilian casualties. They seemed to enjoy it, so a “Die Hard” marathon was planned for Saturday. Senator Kinsey made the national news with his latest pledge to curtail ‘this country’s profligate, wasteful military expenditures,’ which led to a long recounting of the senator’s hypocrisy and Jack filling Daniel in on what their elected nemesis had done while Daniel was ascended. They opted for comfort food after that, specifically by finishing off the banana bread Sam had dropped off. Daniel got an email from Cassie; Jeopardy! was going to be in the area looking for contestants and she thought Daniel would make a great one. The Air Force was unlikely to approve and Daniel had more important matters, but he appreciated Cassie’s confidence in him.
He and Jack had developed a comfortable ritual of writing in their journals before bed. Daniel, who’d always found writing to help him process events and thoughts, did this much more willingly than Jack, who was only doing it to avoid Janet insisting on therapy. (And because Janet could always tell when someone lied about following medical orders.)
Jack moved closer to Daniel on the couch and handed his journal, tapping the right-hand page. “You want me to read it?” asked Daniel, surprised. But Jack nodded.
Evidently Jack had taken the instructions to record his activities and emotions literally, or possibly he just found list format easier.
Emotions:
1. Surprisingly happy about training manual project. Something useful to do.
2. Damned lucky to have Daniel. Would become miserable, lonely bastard without him.
Thank you, signed Jack.
“Oh, Jack.” Daniel returned the journal and kissed his partner. “We’re both lucky. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Jack scrawled on the side of his journal, Lucky? Now you’ll be stuck translating for me.
“Lucky. I spent a year on another plane of existence and you still loved me, took me back without hesitation. When we were at Olive Garden, and I realized you did that for me, Jack, I felt incredibly fortunate to have such a loving partner. Besides, I won’t have to translate for you all the time. I happen to know that Sam, Janet, and Teal’c all bought DVDs to start learning sign language. And before you even start in, they’re doing it because they want to. Because they care about you. You’d do the same, and you know it.”
His partner thought for a second before nodding. Both of them went back to their journals; Daniel abbreviated his own entry when Jack finished. They turned off the light and settled in bed, Daniel lying on his back with Jack close against his side.
It occurred to Daniel that the Oglani had taken Jack’s voice, but in doing so given them a freedom they’d never enjoyed before. They could go to bed like this every night now, and not worry about being found out. It was something, at least, and any silver lining was better than none.
*****
Daniel had never been a fan of text messaging before. Practically overnight he grew an appreciation for it. His first day back he had to work late, but he didn’t want to call Jack. It didn’t seem fair that only he could communicate. So, thankful for Cassie’s lesson on text messaging, he used that feature to tell Jack he had an emergency translation for SG-2. Jack sent back, What else is new?
It was weird to be back but no longer on SG-1, but Daniel didn’t regret his decision. That choice hadn’t been made hastily or lightly. He would miss it, of course, but gate travel had taken its toll on him, and leaving active field duty was the right choice. It wouldn’t have felt right without Jack, but that was only the final factor. Daniel had been trying to pretend nothing had changed after his ascension, but gate travel was dangerous, and he had finally admitted that the danger and risks (and, of course, dying) outweighed the adventure and excitement.
Jack never said anything, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t be home all the time worrying about Daniel, out in the big bad galaxy without him. Daniel still felt badly about staying late and leaving Jack alone for so long after all the time they’d spent together, but it couldn’t be helped. At least Jack had his training manual to work on, and when Daniel left that morning his partner had been sliding the fly-tying DVD in. Jack had things to occupy him.
Still, it had been hard to leave and go to SGC knowing Jack was at home, that Jack would always be at home. Oh, he might get called in from time to time, but that was different. And if it was hard for Daniel, it had to be worse for Jack. Daniel was not fooled by Jack’s too-cheerful demeanor as he unpacked the fly-tying kit and asked if Daniel would consider getting a dog. Jack was hurting, and that hurt him.
Daniel was giving serious consideration to the dog idea, because Jack had mentioned on more than one occasion that he wanted to get a dog once he retired. Daniel didn’t mind dogs, but he thought any dog would be Jack’s - Jack’s companion and responsibility. Dogs, Daniel thought, were rather needy. But he thought it would make Jack happy, so he was strongly inclined to agree.
Janet had, predictably, visited Daniel in his office to ask about Jack. She was particularly concerned with his state of mind, but Daniel was able to reassure her somewhat that Jack was doing about as well as could be expected. She was pleased and more than a little surprised that Jack wasn’t bottling all of his feelings up. Daniel suspected it was probably the first time anyone called remote-throwing a ‘more or less healthy’ reaction. Janet then proceeded to inquire about Daniel.
“I wish I could do more,” he admitted.
“You’re doing more than you realize,” she replied. “But don’t lose sight of what you need, Daniel. And you know where I am if you need to talk.”
She couldn’t have the answers he really wanted, like how long it would take before they worked out a new kind of normalcy. Still, she was a good listener and Daniel knew she meant every offer of help or a sympathetic ear.
On impulse, he asked what she thought of getting a dog. Janet’s advice was, “Only if you’d enjoy having one around, Daniel. If you would, I think it could be good for him. If not, neither of you needs the added stress.”
Clearly, this matter of a dog was going to require more thought.
When he got home that night he couldn’t find Jack in the house, so he headed up to the roof. There he found his partner, but not looking through his telescope. No, Jack was screaming without making a sound other than the gasping noise that sometimes came out.
Daniel walked over and hugged Jack from behind, holding him while he silently raged. It wasn’t fair, and the powerlessness of the situation had to be grating on Jack. They stood like that for a few minutes, not moving even when Daniel’s tears had made a wet spot on Jack’s shoulder. It was Jack who turned around, and he was crying too. Daniel had never seen Jack truly cry, and he wasn’t sure he ever would again.
Jack backed up far enough to free his hands. G-l-a-d me and not you.
Daniel hadn’t cried so hard since his parents died, not even over Sha’re, because he had been too busy with anger and guilt then. “God, Jack.” But to have Jack sign that just as his inability to speak was tormenting him - the selflessness of it was almost too much. It was a blow to his already aching heart.
You n-e-e-d to talk.
He crushed Jack to him, and even that couldn’t be close enough. They clung to each other, and Daniel whispered, “I love you, I love you.” He was overwhelmingly relieved that Jack wasn’t shutting him out anymore. Those first three days had been hell. He was happy with his new position at SGC, and he liked that they could discuss being more open about their relationship sooner rather than later. But Jack’s injury pained him, because he could only do so much and he hated to see Jack so lost.
He had no idea how long they stood together up there, both of them silent, but eventually they were both breathing normally and no more tears were falling. Hesitantly, Jack stepped back. For the first time, he signed, I love you, D-a-n-i-e-l.
They kissed on the roof. That was another first, because of course they’d always had to worry that the McKinleys across the street would see. After they just stood there, foreheads together, recovering from all the emotion. Daniel was cold, he could feel his eyes puffing up from the crying, and yet he felt better than he had since Jack’s abduction. Because he knew then with absolute certainty that they would be better than okay - in time, they would be great again.
When that topic was exhausted, she looked around the living room and said, “So, I guess this means I don’t have to pretend I don’t know about you two, huh?” When both Jack and Daniel stared, she added, “If you didn’t want people to see you kissing, you really should’ve closed the door all the way.”
Daniel recovered enough to ask, “When?”
“Thanksgiving.”
That made sense, he supposed. He hadn’t been back from the ascended plane long, and Jack had been very, very thankful to have him back. Daniel was thankful to be back, and they had apparently failed to close the door entirely in their haste to express that gratitude. He was glad they’d only been kissing.
“You didn’t even tell me?” asked Janet.
Cassie looked at her mother, slightly guilty. “I thought maybe you knew, but if you didn’t, then I shouldn’t… not that I thought you would say or do anything, but I didn’t want to put you in a position where…” she trailed off.
Janet considered this, then nodded. “You were protecting all of us. When did you get so grown up?”
Never one to let a good opportunity go to waste, Cassie suggested, “That has to have some weight in curfew negotiations, right?”
At that, Jack smiled - a sight Daniel appreciated now that its appearance had become less frequent.
By the time they left Jack was in a pleasant mood both because Cassie was a great storyteller and because Janet had finally given up and grudgingly agreed not to make Jack see a counselor, at least for the time being. Since he couldn’t actually talk to a counselor, it might only frustrate him more. However, she insisted that he had to keep a journal and write in it every single day. Nobody had to see it, she promised, and Daniel swore he’d never open it. Jack wasn’t exactly thrilled, but since Mackenzie (or Quackzenie, as Jack called the psychiatrist) was the alternative, he dutifully kept the journal. She’d also made him promise to at least look at the online support group she’d found.
That afternoon was the first time Jack actually seemed to enjoy their daily ASL lesson. It was entirely possible that the amount of fudge they’d consumed gave them sugar highs. They left the video behind altogether and made up their own signs, for words like stargate, zat, and Goa’uld. Jack’s suggestions for Goa’uld got a little outrageous, and they ended up laughing. Of course, Jack’s laughter was silent now, with the occasional gasp, but it was the first time he’d laughed since being captured.
“Are those glowing eyes or beer goggles?” asked Daniel through his laughter.
Better than an undulating vampire, wrote Jack.
This was good. This was them, the same as they’d always been. When Sam stopped in to drop off a casserole and brownies, both Jack and Daniel were grinning like idiots over prospective signs for staff weapon. The joviality was contagious, because Sam’s face lit up with a smile as Jack rummaged around for ice cream to put on brownies.
When Jack had another nightmare that night, Daniel clung to the recent memory of the afternoon, of the laughter and fun. Jack had a nightmare at least once a night, usually some variation of not being able to save people because he couldn’t speak.
F-l-o-o-d, Jack signed out.
Daniel pulled up the blanket, which had ended up around their shins somehow, then settled back down facing his partner. Since Jack didn’t seem inclined to fall asleep right way, he suggested, “We never did decide on a sign for staff weapon.”
Jack had another idea altogether, which was to roll so he was half on top of Daniel and proceed to kiss him with clear intent. This, Daniel decided, was an even better middle-of-the-night activity, and he joined in wholeheartedly.
*****
Daniel had coaxed Jack out for a matinee and was pleasantly surprised when Jack suggested picking up a few groceries on the way home. He hoped that meant Jack was slowly accepting this new reality. They were in the cereal aisle when someone called out, “Jack O’Neill!?!” Jack turned, recognized the man, and looked at Daniel.
“Jack was recently injured in the line of duty,” he explained, holding out his hand. “I’m Daniel Jackson.”
“Ben Ewell. Injured?” asked the man through their handshake.
Having applied himself to learning ASL, Jack was improving, but he still had to do a lot of spelling out. On the other hand, Daniel found that sign language wasn’t quite as easy for him as verbal language, so they were making progress together.
He translated, “Jack says it’s good to see you.”
Daniel was thankful that Ben handled the situation well. He was clearly thrown off-balance, but addressed Jack. “I saw you on TV about a year ago. What’ve you been up to?”
“Classified,” said Daniel, four letters into Jack’s spelling.
“Of course. Bitch of an injury, but give the fish hell.”
Smiling, Daniel translated, “Planning on it.”
“Some of us have a poker game every other Tuesday. I’m in the phone book. Look me up if you want in.”
“Thank you,” relayed Daniel.
“I’ve gotta run, hot date later tonight. Good to see you, Jack. Daniel, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, and then, “Jack says take care.”
“You too.”
“So, poker nights,” he said when Ben was gone.
Maybe.
He didn’t know if it was his disability stopping Jack, or the very real concern that old Air Force buddies weren’t likely to approve of their relationship, or something else he couldn’t even think of at the moment. He doubted Jack would pursue the invitation, but decided that overall this encounter could be considered a success.
And if later Jack threw the remote at the TV during their ASL lesson when they got home, well, he had good reason to be angry. Daniel just picked up the remote and rewound the DVD. He focused on learning the signs himself, as that was the most effective tactic when Jack was less than engaged in the learning process. Jack would sulk, but eventually get back to the lesson. Also, he had a truly amazing capacity to absorb material while sulking. That was proving very useful with ASL.
*****
The day before Daniel went back to work, General Hammond stopped by again.
“This is partially an official visit,” he explained, “Jack, I know your retirement paperwork is being processed, but you have a wealth of knowledge about the stargate program and what it’s like offworld. You know how difficult it is to train new personnel, both civilian and military. The Air Force would like you to consider writing a training manual. You’d be well compensated, of course.”
Jack nodded, which prompted Hammond to hand over a laptop case. “We thought you’d say yes. This computer doesn’t go online. It can’t be hacked into, or so I’m told. Major Carter personally transferred your files and set it up as you prefer.”
Bless Sam for that. Jack liked his computers to operate more or less the same way. It had taken him months to adjust when the Air Force switched manufacturers and the new computers were organized differently. Jack already had more than enough frustration to deal with.
Daniel was a bit concerned about leaving Jack alone all day to wallow. Realistically, he knew he had to get back to work, and there was only so much he could do to help. Jack would have to muddle through adjusting to retirement. Still, the training manual was going to help. It would give Jack something useful and productive to occupy his days.
“I have a list of topics we’re particularly interested in,” said the general, handing Jack a sheet of paper.
Jack scanned the list, then grabbed a pen and wrote on the back, Can do. Missed a few, though.
“We’re counting on your additions,” Hammond said.
Personally, Daniel was looking forward to seeing how Jack’s unique sense of humor manifested itself in the training manual. This could be very interesting.
“He can write a whole chapter on Goa’uld baiting,” commented Daniel.
“I don’t think we need to encourage that.”
“Strategic,” clarified Daniel. “How to keep the Goa’uld focused on you and thus protect your team.”
When your archaeologist lets you, added Jack with a pointed look at Daniel.
“In my defense, sometimes I was a necessary diversion.”
Jack held up his hands and gave an exaggerated sigh.
Hammond smiled and shook his head slightly, in the way that always made Daniel feel a bit like the general was indulging them. “Do take time to indulge yourself, Jack.”
Carter’s got the indulgent baked goods covered, wrote Jack. It was Sam’s way of feeling like she was helpful.
“He’s already planning an extensive garden.” Daniel thought that, given it had been years since Jack had last had a garden, starting small might be a good idea. Jack disagreed. Maybe he needed the grand plans to occupy his mind. “I think he’s going to plant every vegetable that has a chance of growing in Colorado.”
“That’s a good way to see what plants take to your land,” agreed Hammond. “If you need help weeding, the girls are always trying to hire out their services in the summer.”
I’ll keep them in mind.
It turned out that the general was a gardener himself, of a sort. He had a garden because it was a good grandfather-granddaughters activity. Hammond was a good man, and if he felt a bit awkward - about relating to Jack or their increasingly obvious relationship - he showed no sign of it. Before he left, he promised to give Jack some pumpkin seeds, saved from last summer’s bountiful crop.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Teal’c called because someone on base had talked up the “Die Hard” movies and he wanted to schedule a movie marathon. Jack and Teal’c always nitpicked action movies, pointing out flaws like unbelievably stupid villains (a perennial favorite) or points where the hero could’ve minimized civilian casualties. They seemed to enjoy it, so a “Die Hard” marathon was planned for Saturday. Senator Kinsey made the national news with his latest pledge to curtail ‘this country’s profligate, wasteful military expenditures,’ which led to a long recounting of the senator’s hypocrisy and Jack filling Daniel in on what their elected nemesis had done while Daniel was ascended. They opted for comfort food after that, specifically by finishing off the banana bread Sam had dropped off. Daniel got an email from Cassie; Jeopardy! was going to be in the area looking for contestants and she thought Daniel would make a great one. The Air Force was unlikely to approve and Daniel had more important matters, but he appreciated Cassie’s confidence in him.
He and Jack had developed a comfortable ritual of writing in their journals before bed. Daniel, who’d always found writing to help him process events and thoughts, did this much more willingly than Jack, who was only doing it to avoid Janet insisting on therapy. (And because Janet could always tell when someone lied about following medical orders.)
Jack moved closer to Daniel on the couch and handed his journal, tapping the right-hand page. “You want me to read it?” asked Daniel, surprised. But Jack nodded.
Evidently Jack had taken the instructions to record his activities and emotions literally, or possibly he just found list format easier.
Emotions:
1. Surprisingly happy about training manual project. Something useful to do.
2. Damned lucky to have Daniel. Would become miserable, lonely bastard without him.
Thank you, signed Jack.
“Oh, Jack.” Daniel returned the journal and kissed his partner. “We’re both lucky. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Jack scrawled on the side of his journal, Lucky? Now you’ll be stuck translating for me.
“Lucky. I spent a year on another plane of existence and you still loved me, took me back without hesitation. When we were at Olive Garden, and I realized you did that for me, Jack, I felt incredibly fortunate to have such a loving partner. Besides, I won’t have to translate for you all the time. I happen to know that Sam, Janet, and Teal’c all bought DVDs to start learning sign language. And before you even start in, they’re doing it because they want to. Because they care about you. You’d do the same, and you know it.”
His partner thought for a second before nodding. Both of them went back to their journals; Daniel abbreviated his own entry when Jack finished. They turned off the light and settled in bed, Daniel lying on his back with Jack close against his side.
It occurred to Daniel that the Oglani had taken Jack’s voice, but in doing so given them a freedom they’d never enjoyed before. They could go to bed like this every night now, and not worry about being found out. It was something, at least, and any silver lining was better than none.
*****
Daniel had never been a fan of text messaging before. Practically overnight he grew an appreciation for it. His first day back he had to work late, but he didn’t want to call Jack. It didn’t seem fair that only he could communicate. So, thankful for Cassie’s lesson on text messaging, he used that feature to tell Jack he had an emergency translation for SG-2. Jack sent back, What else is new?
It was weird to be back but no longer on SG-1, but Daniel didn’t regret his decision. That choice hadn’t been made hastily or lightly. He would miss it, of course, but gate travel had taken its toll on him, and leaving active field duty was the right choice. It wouldn’t have felt right without Jack, but that was only the final factor. Daniel had been trying to pretend nothing had changed after his ascension, but gate travel was dangerous, and he had finally admitted that the danger and risks (and, of course, dying) outweighed the adventure and excitement.
Jack never said anything, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t be home all the time worrying about Daniel, out in the big bad galaxy without him. Daniel still felt badly about staying late and leaving Jack alone for so long after all the time they’d spent together, but it couldn’t be helped. At least Jack had his training manual to work on, and when Daniel left that morning his partner had been sliding the fly-tying DVD in. Jack had things to occupy him.
Still, it had been hard to leave and go to SGC knowing Jack was at home, that Jack would always be at home. Oh, he might get called in from time to time, but that was different. And if it was hard for Daniel, it had to be worse for Jack. Daniel was not fooled by Jack’s too-cheerful demeanor as he unpacked the fly-tying kit and asked if Daniel would consider getting a dog. Jack was hurting, and that hurt him.
Daniel was giving serious consideration to the dog idea, because Jack had mentioned on more than one occasion that he wanted to get a dog once he retired. Daniel didn’t mind dogs, but he thought any dog would be Jack’s - Jack’s companion and responsibility. Dogs, Daniel thought, were rather needy. But he thought it would make Jack happy, so he was strongly inclined to agree.
Janet had, predictably, visited Daniel in his office to ask about Jack. She was particularly concerned with his state of mind, but Daniel was able to reassure her somewhat that Jack was doing about as well as could be expected. She was pleased and more than a little surprised that Jack wasn’t bottling all of his feelings up. Daniel suspected it was probably the first time anyone called remote-throwing a ‘more or less healthy’ reaction. Janet then proceeded to inquire about Daniel.
“I wish I could do more,” he admitted.
“You’re doing more than you realize,” she replied. “But don’t lose sight of what you need, Daniel. And you know where I am if you need to talk.”
She couldn’t have the answers he really wanted, like how long it would take before they worked out a new kind of normalcy. Still, she was a good listener and Daniel knew she meant every offer of help or a sympathetic ear.
On impulse, he asked what she thought of getting a dog. Janet’s advice was, “Only if you’d enjoy having one around, Daniel. If you would, I think it could be good for him. If not, neither of you needs the added stress.”
Clearly, this matter of a dog was going to require more thought.
When he got home that night he couldn’t find Jack in the house, so he headed up to the roof. There he found his partner, but not looking through his telescope. No, Jack was screaming without making a sound other than the gasping noise that sometimes came out.
Daniel walked over and hugged Jack from behind, holding him while he silently raged. It wasn’t fair, and the powerlessness of the situation had to be grating on Jack. They stood like that for a few minutes, not moving even when Daniel’s tears had made a wet spot on Jack’s shoulder. It was Jack who turned around, and he was crying too. Daniel had never seen Jack truly cry, and he wasn’t sure he ever would again.
Jack backed up far enough to free his hands. G-l-a-d me and not you.
Daniel hadn’t cried so hard since his parents died, not even over Sha’re, because he had been too busy with anger and guilt then. “God, Jack.” But to have Jack sign that just as his inability to speak was tormenting him - the selflessness of it was almost too much. It was a blow to his already aching heart.
You n-e-e-d to talk.
He crushed Jack to him, and even that couldn’t be close enough. They clung to each other, and Daniel whispered, “I love you, I love you.” He was overwhelmingly relieved that Jack wasn’t shutting him out anymore. Those first three days had been hell. He was happy with his new position at SGC, and he liked that they could discuss being more open about their relationship sooner rather than later. But Jack’s injury pained him, because he could only do so much and he hated to see Jack so lost.
He had no idea how long they stood together up there, both of them silent, but eventually they were both breathing normally and no more tears were falling. Hesitantly, Jack stepped back. For the first time, he signed, I love you, D-a-n-i-e-l.
They kissed on the roof. That was another first, because of course they’d always had to worry that the McKinleys across the street would see. After they just stood there, foreheads together, recovering from all the emotion. Daniel was cold, he could feel his eyes puffing up from the crying, and yet he felt better than he had since Jack’s abduction. Because he knew then with absolute certainty that they would be better than okay - in time, they would be great again.