ficpost: "Managing My Madness" Sam/Daniel
[edited subject line, 2007-09-14. original subject "okay, so I lied"]
Still might go offline. But not going offline now.
This began as a drabble for wistful_fever about two hours ago, but it insisted that it didn't want to be a drabble. So it's about 800 words.
Managing My Madness
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Daniel
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Forever in a Day
Season/Episode: 1-3/goes AU during the middle of Forever in a Day. Anything you know the second half of S3 (including Ke'ra) is a lie.
Summary: Insane with grief, Daniel turns to Sam, again, and again, and again.
Notes: This fic is dedicated to wistful, because she claims my insomnia is for her entertainment. Inspired by her vid "Dark Side." Title is from "Your Mistake," sung by Sister Hazel.
Warnings: Dark. Very dark. Scary stalker Daniel.
Sam could be subtle, Daniel realized; the first time she drove him home, she talked about a differential equation for a full ten minutes. "I spent weeks trying to solve that thing. I stayed up all night for the first time. It became a matter of pride. The grade didn't matter. My other classes didn't matter. I thought of nothing else; I had to solve that problem." Daniel smiled at her. "And then I solved it, and I didn't care anymore. The joy was in the search."
It took him a minute, but he got it. "I'll find her," he said. "And...I will find her." There was no and.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The pain of loss cut like shards of glass in his heart. He thought he'd gotten used to pain, but it hurt now more than it had three years before. Jack told him to get laid, "hair of the dog that bit you and all that." Jack wasn't very good at being sensitive, but Daniel forgave him. Daniel was always gracious; he didn't know why he put up with Jack, who was crass and thought sex was the solution to all problems, who had probably never, ever known what it was like to loose someone he loved. Daniel knew he was being unfair, but he had every right to be unfair, since the universe was never fair to him.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Sam didn't want to, she didn't care what the Colonel said, that was just creepy. "Don't look at me like you want to eat me!"
"I miss Sha're," he said dully, and then, "and I do want you."
Her face softened for a moment and she said, "I know." She almost whispered, "There was a time when I thought..." but her voice trailed off. Daniel knew what she would have said. She would have said she wanted him. That meant... he wasn't sure. It meant something important. He was too tired to think clearly; it was as if every all-nighter he'd pulled for Sha're had finally caught up to him.
Ah yes. It meant she was his.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
He didn't try to rape her or anything; he hadn't lost his mind, only his wife. He was just a little tired, and he was having trouble thinking, and the memory of Sha're was very distant and Sam was so close. If only she would stop looking at him like that, first with pity, then with fear, when he watched her too closely. He knew she loved him. Of course she loved him. She'd told him that, many times. So why couldn't he bring himself to kiss her? He'd once had so many reasons not to, but none of them made sense anymore.
The last reason fluttered to the floor when Sam touched his shoulder to get his attention while he was leaning over a book, engrossed. He felt everything inside him break. Sha're's garbled last message; he couldn't remember much of it, just that Sam had been there, that Sam had hugged him softly and healed him. He wondered, briefly, if the healing device could fix grief. He'd ask her. Later. Now, he grabbed her hands and pulled her down till she knelt by his side. Then he touched her face and told her, "You're mine, Sam. You will always be mine."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sam was scared of him. That would have hurt, last year. This year, nothing hurt anymore. Daniel didn't know the meaning of the word pain. Daniel had no grief, only grievances, only righteous indignation that Sam was refusing his overtures. But Sam, clever Sam, did more than refuse. Sam told Jack, and Jack told someone else, and Daniel couldn't remember much beyond that, except being called into General Hammond's office like a recalcitrant schoolboy and being told his tenure was over. Funny, wasn't it, how the Air Force didn't want him anymore when he wanted one of theirs.
Funny, too, that the Air Force had trained him in infiltration and subterfuge, that the Air Force had taught him patience. Daniel had a strategy; Daniel had a plan. He spent his nights thinking about it; he spent his days thinking about her. How he would wait until she had forgotten to be wary, then surprise her with flowers sent to her house. He'd stand outside her front door, car idling in her driveway, and then--but he always stopped thinking at that point. He'd have her, in any event; that was all that mattered.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As he sat at his kitchen table at three in the morning, a map of her neighborhood in front of him, a cup of coffee sitting soothingly by his right elbow, Daniel thought of a younger Sam solving differential equations, and he shuddered with pleasure. Sweet Sam, driven Sam, Sam who would rest at nothing till all obstacles were cleared away. His Sam.
She was right. The joy was in the search.
I should really go to bed now; I have a quiz tomorrow at ten in the morning. Goodnight, people!
Still might go offline. But not going offline now.
This began as a drabble for wistful_fever about two hours ago, but it insisted that it didn't want to be a drabble. So it's about 800 words.
Managing My Madness
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sam/Daniel
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Forever in a Day
Season/Episode: 1-3/goes AU during the middle of Forever in a Day. Anything you know the second half of S3 (including Ke'ra) is a lie.
Summary: Insane with grief, Daniel turns to Sam, again, and again, and again.
Notes: This fic is dedicated to wistful, because she claims my insomnia is for her entertainment. Inspired by her vid "Dark Side." Title is from "Your Mistake," sung by Sister Hazel.
Warnings: Dark. Very dark. Scary stalker Daniel.
Sam could be subtle, Daniel realized; the first time she drove him home, she talked about a differential equation for a full ten minutes. "I spent weeks trying to solve that thing. I stayed up all night for the first time. It became a matter of pride. The grade didn't matter. My other classes didn't matter. I thought of nothing else; I had to solve that problem." Daniel smiled at her. "And then I solved it, and I didn't care anymore. The joy was in the search."
It took him a minute, but he got it. "I'll find her," he said. "And...I will find her." There was no and.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The pain of loss cut like shards of glass in his heart. He thought he'd gotten used to pain, but it hurt now more than it had three years before. Jack told him to get laid, "hair of the dog that bit you and all that." Jack wasn't very good at being sensitive, but Daniel forgave him. Daniel was always gracious; he didn't know why he put up with Jack, who was crass and thought sex was the solution to all problems, who had probably never, ever known what it was like to loose someone he loved. Daniel knew he was being unfair, but he had every right to be unfair, since the universe was never fair to him.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Sam didn't want to, she didn't care what the Colonel said, that was just creepy. "Don't look at me like you want to eat me!"
"I miss Sha're," he said dully, and then, "and I do want you."
Her face softened for a moment and she said, "I know." She almost whispered, "There was a time when I thought..." but her voice trailed off. Daniel knew what she would have said. She would have said she wanted him. That meant... he wasn't sure. It meant something important. He was too tired to think clearly; it was as if every all-nighter he'd pulled for Sha're had finally caught up to him.
Ah yes. It meant she was his.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
He didn't try to rape her or anything; he hadn't lost his mind, only his wife. He was just a little tired, and he was having trouble thinking, and the memory of Sha're was very distant and Sam was so close. If only she would stop looking at him like that, first with pity, then with fear, when he watched her too closely. He knew she loved him. Of course she loved him. She'd told him that, many times. So why couldn't he bring himself to kiss her? He'd once had so many reasons not to, but none of them made sense anymore.
The last reason fluttered to the floor when Sam touched his shoulder to get his attention while he was leaning over a book, engrossed. He felt everything inside him break. Sha're's garbled last message; he couldn't remember much of it, just that Sam had been there, that Sam had hugged him softly and healed him. He wondered, briefly, if the healing device could fix grief. He'd ask her. Later. Now, he grabbed her hands and pulled her down till she knelt by his side. Then he touched her face and told her, "You're mine, Sam. You will always be mine."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Sam was scared of him. That would have hurt, last year. This year, nothing hurt anymore. Daniel didn't know the meaning of the word pain. Daniel had no grief, only grievances, only righteous indignation that Sam was refusing his overtures. But Sam, clever Sam, did more than refuse. Sam told Jack, and Jack told someone else, and Daniel couldn't remember much beyond that, except being called into General Hammond's office like a recalcitrant schoolboy and being told his tenure was over. Funny, wasn't it, how the Air Force didn't want him anymore when he wanted one of theirs.
Funny, too, that the Air Force had trained him in infiltration and subterfuge, that the Air Force had taught him patience. Daniel had a strategy; Daniel had a plan. He spent his nights thinking about it; he spent his days thinking about her. How he would wait until she had forgotten to be wary, then surprise her with flowers sent to her house. He'd stand outside her front door, car idling in her driveway, and then--but he always stopped thinking at that point. He'd have her, in any event; that was all that mattered.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As he sat at his kitchen table at three in the morning, a map of her neighborhood in front of him, a cup of coffee sitting soothingly by his right elbow, Daniel thought of a younger Sam solving differential equations, and he shuddered with pleasure. Sweet Sam, driven Sam, Sam who would rest at nothing till all obstacles were cleared away. His Sam.
She was right. The joy was in the search.
I should really go to bed now; I have a quiz tomorrow at ten in the morning. Goodnight, people!