NOT LIKE NICK

by: PHO
Feedback to: phowmo@mindspring.com

Author's Notes: This one's been playing in my head for a while and finally demanded to be released.



DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.  Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).    Portions of the dialog were taken from "Legacy".


I'm not like Nick. Not at all. Except for the archaeology bug. I'll admit that I have that rather badly. But other than that, I'm not like Nick. Get a grip, Daniel. I am not hearing voices. No, I'm not. Someone really did call to me down here ... in the locker room. Probably one of Makepeace's men playing 'fool the geek'... again. I'd never tell Makepeace about that, though. His team works well together, they've just never learned to be, uh, tolerant. Not sure Makepeace has either, for that matter. There! Heard it again. Or did I? What the hell is going on? Fine. They want me out of the locker room. No problem. I'll leave. I gotta get to the debriefing anyway. Jack'll shoot me if I'm late again.

Damn, it's lonely down here when no one's around. What am I saying? Of course someone's here. I heard them.

"Daniel."

It's Sam. She probably called me. "Were you calling me just now?"

"No, it wasn't me. General Hammond's waiting for us in the briefing room."

No? No? But, you had to be. Well, someone was. Why is she looking at me like that? Get a grip, Daniel.


I was eight when they finally found him. His only child dies and it's three years before he gets the word. Go figure. I barely knew him. My grandfather, Nick as he likes to be called, never visited us very much. Actually, not at all. At least, not that I can remember.

I remember being very apprehensive while I was waiting for him to arrive. Apprehensive, and excited. Oh, I really liked the Rogers. They were a really nice couple in their sixties. Miss Mary made the best brownies. I don't think Mom cooked. At least not that I remember. Yes, I really liked both Miss Mary and Mr. Bob. But they weren't family. Nick was.

God, he looked larger than life. Dark blond, bushy hair. Wild eyebrows, and his eyes... they were positively filled with passion. With his love for ... his career. I wasn't even a consideration. He simply didn't care.

What? Why is everyone looking at me? Oh. Must be my turn to say something brilliant. Gee, General Hammond, I really wish I could, but I'm not real sure what the others have said. Thank God. Hammond's talking again. Listen this time, Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, what about that Goa'uld tablet device?"

Oh. I know this. "It's a Goa'uld dialect akin to Latin. From what Teal'c and I have made out so far, it's some sort of attack plan. I'm still trying to figure out how to scroll to the next page. If there is a next page."

He's nodding. This is good. "Dr. Jackson, I want you to make translating that device your top priority."

"Yes, sir." I was going to anyway. What's that noise? Oh, the Stargate. Wonder who's returning? SG-7? Oh, yeah. They were due back. I think. I feel incredibly ... nervous, like I'm about to jump out of my skin. Gotta do something. Go watch SG-7 return. That should be safe.

Oh God! It's not SG-7. It's the Lindris. They're here. Coming through the gate. Why aren't the alarms going off? For that matter why isn't Jack reacting? No. I am not seeing things, not like Nick. They're here, dammit, they're really here. But Jack isn't doing anything. What? That's SG-7. What the hell is going on?


Okay. That was weird. The Lindris were there. In the Gateroom. I'm sure of it. But ... no one else saw them. Surely someone saw them. Other than me, I mean. Nick sees things. The doctors say so. But he's getting better. I guess. Haven't seen him in a while. Not since he threw me out.

What's that noise? That's odd. It's coming from my closet. God, are they in here with me? Maybe they're invisible, like the Retu. But how? They all looked so, so dead in the chamber. But something touched me. I swear it did. I wonder if what Nick sees ever touches him? Don't go there Daniel, you're not like Nick.

Okay. That time I know I heard something. I have to look, but... I don't want to. Jesus! An event horizon? In my closet? "This isn't real."

I reach out and touch it. It's there. No. It can't be. No one will bel... Nooooo! Hands. Dead hands. The Lindris are here. Someone help me! "Help! Somebody help!"


I was fifteen when Nick committed himself. Couldn't face his colleagues anymore. Not where that stupid skull was concerned. Teleportation. God! Giant aliens. Well, that I can at least relate to ... now. Couldn't back then, though. But still, all those things he sees, and hears. The straw that sent him over the edge were the voices in his closet. Right. Closet, how ... Oh. My closet. But that's different. There weren't any voices. Just an event horizon. I'm not like Nick. Nope. God! What's that noise? Why is it dark?

Oh. My eyes are closed. Brilliant Daniel. That's why it's dark. And the noise... well, that's the monitors in the infirmary. Special. Another day, another bedpan. What the heck is Jack doing with that IV bag?

"Hello." Hmm, he's taking a neutral tone. Not good.

"Hello." I can be neutral, too.

"What happened?"

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Uhm, no."

"Neither do I. Which means there has to be a logical explanation."

"For what?"

Now that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question. I find that I'm barely listening as I throw a theory his way. A sane theory. Full of holes, but sane. He's not buying this. Okay. Fess up, Daniel. "... the only other theory I can come up with is that I'm having some sort of nervous breakdown, or ..."

"Or something." He finishes my thought with me. Please. Let's go with the something. I'm not like Nick.


Never knew how really boring the VIP quarters are. Oh, they're nicely decorated, plush chairs, make a really nice place for very important persons to stay. Like the SGC has spend the night guests. Right. I know why I'm here. Jack's trying so hard to be relaxed. I've never seen him work so hard at ... comfortable. But something's wrong. They think I'm having a collapse or something. I don't know what scares me more... collapse or something. Huh? What the heck? How could I miss that move?

"... I should have done that two moves ago, I don't know what I was thinking."

"You're a little off."

"I don't feel off... I feel fine. No headaches, no tension... I feel normal."

"That's because it was just stress and I have a very calming effect on stressed out people. ... How about a game of gin?"

I hate gin-rummy, but Jack likes it. Cause he can win. Sometimes I get lucky... oh God. I hear the 'gate dialing up. But it's coming from the cabinet. Where the cards are. Why doesn't he hear it? Get a grip, Daniel. There's nothing wrong. Nothing happening. Just open the cabinet and get the cards. Nothing to it. Right. Oh God! Oh. It's just a cabinet. See, Daniel, you were right. Nothing there. Just get the cards and go back to the table.

Uh oh. There's a Goa'uld on Jack's neck. Why doesn't he know it? Surely he can feel it move? Keep calm, Daniel, mustn't let on that you see it.

"Jack."

"What?"

"It's nothing."

He's looking at me so strangely. "You all right?"

SHIT! It's gone into his neck. Stay calm, Daniel. "I'm fine. ... How are you feeling?"

"Good. Real good."

I can't stand this! "There's a Goa'uld in you! I've got to get it out!" He doesn't understand, he's shoving me away.

"There's no Goa'uld in me!"

I don't feel so good. "I'm sorry. Sorry." The whole room's whirling. They're here. They're really here. I'm not seeing things, not like Nick.


Noooo. Please. I'm not imagining things. Jack, please. Don't let them take me. The Lindris ... they're here. Really. Can't think. Please, no more needles. Too many drugs. Can't think. They're real. They're here. Why can't you see? Please, God, please, I'm not like Nick. Don't leave me alone!


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