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Starting to Heal
By Lianne Burwell
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Colonel Jack O'Neill hummed a cheery tune under his breath as he walked 
through the silent corridors of the Cheyenne Mountain facility that 
housed the Stargate Project. It was a Sunday morning and the base was 
nearly deserted.

Sundays were usually quiet at the base. Most military and scientific 
facilities tended to be filled with people around the clock, despite 
family, friends and other outside responsibilities. Soldier and 
scientists tend to be very 'married' to their jobs.

But the personnel of the Stargate Project were different. On a daily 
basis, they dealt with wonders that outsiders would consider 
unbelievable. They traveled to distant worlds and fought aliens. They 
encountered beings who had once been worshipped as gods on Earth. They 
faced death -- and the possible destruction of their world and everything 
on it -- more often than anyone should.

And as a result, the Project had the most religious staff of *any* 
institute in the world.  Not all the *same* religions, of course, but 
still regular attendants of whatever ceremonies their religions 
celebrated. And since Sunday was a day of worship for most of them, the 
base was very quiet. Those who weren't at church tended to stay away as 
well, spending the day with their families. Project personnel also tended 
to have solid marriages and stable families. Jack was pretty sure that 
there were psychiatrists out there somewhere, studying them. They'd 
probably even come up with some sort of silly name for it. Jack didn't 
mind. After all, they were a pretty great bunch of people, if he did say 
so himself.

Jack was one of the exceptions to this trend, though. He'd never really 
been overly religious, and he preferred to count on himself and his 
teammates rather than a god. Maybe it was because he'd *met* too many 
gods. Ra. Chronos. Thor. Others that he'd never even heard of before 
meeting them. While this might get others to head to their local church, 
Jack found himself more than a little suspicious of other gods. Besides, 
he'd never spent much time in a church other than for weddings and 
funerals. As for family, the team *was* his family. His son was dead and 
his wife had divorced him. SG-1 filled the void that they'd left behind, 
a void he'd simply accepted until he'd noticed one day that it had been 
filled. It had been a surprise, but a very pleasant one.

Still, he usually managed to find something to do on a Sunday. Yard work, 
housework or just getting dragged into the games of the kids in the 
neighborhood. When he'd first moved to town, the parents had been a 
little suspicious of the new man who spent so much time with their kids. 
Hell, he would have been *more* than suspicious in their place. But 
eventually they'd come to trust him and he was now a regular at the local 
school and playground, an acceptable playmate and guardian for the kids 
when their parents or teachers were distracted. He loved it. Kids were 
so... uncomplicated.

But on this Sunday he was at the base, catching up on some work. SG-1 had 
been on several hairy missions recently and he was way behind on his 
paperwork. God, he hated paperwork. Its only purpose seemed to be to 
drive simple soldiers like himself insane. Fortunately, reports didn't 
have to be done in triplicate anymore. Computers had solved *that* little 
problem. Unfortunately, the powers that be had compensated by tripling 
the amount of paperwork required.

So he'd spent most of his Sunday slaying the evil bureaucratic beast, 
clearing off his to-do list before SG-1 was sent off on a diplomatic 
mission the next day. Nothing to worry about this time (he hoped). Just a 
return visit to Orban. He even had a new jumbo box of crayons and a thick 
pad of construction paper for Merrin. Jack smiled to himself at the 
memory. He was still pissed off at what had happened to the young girl, 
but she'd chosen to go through with her Averium, and in the process she'd 
changed her world. He had to admire the courage that had taken. Still, 
she'd lost so much in the process. All he'd been able to do was to take 
her out for an afternoon of fun -- something she was completely 
unfamiliar with. Something her *world* had been unfamiliar with until 
she'd passed it on through the nanotech thingies they'd removed from her 
brain to pass her knowledge on to her people. The price, though, was 
high, leaving her essentially brain-damaged. The painting she'd done of a 
field of flowers and trees was framed and hanging on his living room wall 
at home.

After the paperwork was done, he'd decided to go to the base gym for a 
workout before heading home for dinner. He made sure he did that on a 
regular basis. It would be embarrassing to find himself panting and 
wheezing on a mission while everyone else was still fresh as a daisy. It 
was important for the team leader to keep up the appearance of being 
Superman, after all.

As he neared the gym, he heard the sounds of grunts and bodies hitting 
the mat. Obviously he wasn't the only one to go for a workout. There was 
a low rumble that he recognized as Teal'c's voice, even if the words 
weren't clear enough to understand. The response was equally indistinct, 
but he recognized Daniel Jackson's voice. He wondered what Jackson was 
doing in the gym on a Sunday evening. The anthropologist usually filled 
his spare time with research -- either his own or reading the journals 
filled with other people's research. Dry as sand as far as Jack was 
concerned, but Daniel seemed to enjoy it. Then he frowned. Teal'c's voice 
was like its owner; calm and impassive. But Daniel's voice... There was a 
slightly strident quality to it, one that had been there more and more 
since the death of his wife. Publicly, Jackson said he understood and 
accepted her death, but privately, he wasn't talking. After two years 
together on the Stargate Project, Jack knew the younger man well enough 
to know that he was hurting and that it was just a matter of time before 
that hurt erupted into anger.

And now an angry Daniel Jackson was alone in a room with the man who'd 
had no choice but to kill his wife to save *his* life.

Jack picked up his pace and almost burst into the base gym.

What he saw was not exactly what he'd expected. Yes, Daniel and Teal'c 
were facing off against each other across an exercise mat. However, they 
were both dressed for it in T-shirts and sweatpants and neither looked to 
be hurt. Daniel looked pissed, but Teal'c didn't seem worried. Jack 
blinked as both men turned towards him.

"So..." he said casually, eyeing them. "What's up?"

"DanielJackson requested instruction in self-defense techniques," Teal'c 
told him solemnly.

Daniel didn't say anything; he was breathing too heavily for that. His 
hair was plastered to his scalp with sweat and more sweat made dark 
smears on his shirt under the arms and in a V from the neck back and 
front.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you've had enough for now?" he 
asked Jackson.

"No," Daniel spat out between gulps of air. Jack's eyes went wide at the 
amount of suppressed anger in the man's voice. This wasn't like Jackson. 
It looked like he'd reached critical pressure. Mt. Jackson was about to 
blow.

Jack looked at Teal'c and jerked his chin towards the exit. Teal'c nodded 
and headed for the door. Teal'c was a difficult man to read, but to 
Jack's eyes he looked relieved. As he left, Jack heard the faint snick of 
the door being locked behind him. Jack approved. The last thing they 
needed right now was for someone to walk in on them.

"Hey!" Jackson said, stepping in the same direction.

"Don't you think you've punished him enough for one day?" Jack asked in a 
mild tone.

Daniel stopped in his tracks. "I'm not punishing him."

"Aren't you? Maybe you're punishing yourself, then."

Daniel's expression went mulishly stubborn. It wasn't an attractive 
expression on him. "I'm not punishing anyone," he said defensively.

"Then what?"

"Like Teal'c said, I want to learn to fight."

"Why?" 

"Because I'm not pulling my weight," Daniel said, turning away.

Jack reached out and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "What are 
you talking about? You pull your weight all the time."

Daniel immediately shrugged off the hand, stepping out of reach. "Then 
why is it that every time there's a fight, the rest of you end up having 
to cover *my* butt?" Daniel said, said, anger and pain bleeding through 
into his voice.

"And how many times have you pulled our chestnuts out of the fire when 
dealing with touchy natives?" Jack pointed out. "How many times has the 
knowledge you pack away in that brain of yours been all that kept a 
mission from complete disaster?"

Daniel's expression hardened. "Didn't do Sha're much good, did it?" he 
said bitterly.

Jack relaxed a little. Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. 
If anything, he was a little surprised at how fast they'd gotten to it. 
"You did everything you could."

"Well, it wasn't enough, was it?" Daniel said, his tone full of 
self-mockery. "Two years of hunting. Two years of praying. Two years of 
trying everything I could to save her. In the end, all I could do was 
hold her while she died!" By the end, Daniel was shouting.

Reacting instinctively to the all-to-familiar pain in the other man's 
voice, Jack stepped forward and wrapped Daniel in a tight hug. Daniel 
shook in his arms, then tried to pull away, but Jack refused to let go. 
Finally, Daniel stopped fighting and just buried his face in Jack's neck.

"I haven't gone back to Abydos to tell Kusuf yet," Daniel said, and Jack 
could hear the start of tears in his voice. Tears that had gone unshed 
for too long. Tears that *needed* to be shed. "I couldn't face him. I 
couldn't tell him that I failed my promise. That I failed *her*!"

"You didn't fail her, Danny," Jack said, rocking the now-crying man back 
and forth. Not like he'd failed Charlie. The gun should never have been 
stored in the house loaded, even though he'd made sure to teach Charlie 
that guns were not to be touched. But while the memory was still painful, 
he no longer hurt in the way that had made him an ideal candidate for the 
suicide mission through the Stargate.

And yet, without that mission, he never would have met Daniel Jackson, 
and his life would have been the poorer for it. Daniel made him feel... 
things he hadn't felt in years. There was something about the man's 
combination of brains and innocence that made him so very appealing.

"It *hurts*, Jack!"

"I know it does. But tomorrow it will hurt a little less. And the next 
day and the day after that. And someday you'll be able to look back and 
remember all the good things. The bad will have faded." The way he could 
now remember playing baseball with Charlie without remembering the sight 
of him lying dead on the floor. Without remembering having to bury his 
only child. Faded enough that he could be playmate to what seemed like 
half the kids in town without agonizing over what might have been, what 
should have been.

"I don't *want* it to hurt less," Daniel hissed, pushing away from Jack, 
brushing away the tears. His face was twisted into a very un-Daniel 
expression, full of hate. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Why not?"

"Because I want to hurt *them* as much as they hurt me."

Jack winced. By 'them,' he knew that Daniel meant the Goa'uld. The ones 
who took his wife away. The ones who destroyed the life he'd built for 
himself on Abydos. This was obviously the real reason why he wanted 
Teal'c to train him; not so that he could hold his own in a fight but so 
that he could go out and kill as many Goa'uld as possible.

"Revenge, Danny?" Jack said as gently as he could. "Doesn't sound like 
you."

"Why not? How do *you* know what is or is not me?"

"I dunno. Maybe two years of working with you almost every day?" Jack 
reached to brush back the sweat-soaked bangs from Daniel's forehead. 
Perversely, he found himself missing the old haircut with the bangs 
falling in the younger man's eyes. He'd never asked when Daniel had shown 
up one day with a short, almost military haircut, several months earlier. 
Maybe Sha're's death was just the last in a string of events that had 
brought about this change in the gentle man he remembered so well.

The man he'd fallen in love with, although he'd never been able to bring 
himself to say that out loud.

Daniel flinched from his touch and Jack sighed. He sat down on the mats 
and patted the space next to him, waiting until Daniel finally sat down 
before he said anything. "Talk to me, Danny."

"I was happy on Abydos."

Jack waited a moment, but Daniel stayed silent. "I know you were," he 
finally said. "That's why you decided to stay when the rest of us came 
home."

"I mean, I was able to use all the things I'd studied in a practical 
situation. No other Egyptologist can say the same. It was the chance of a 
lifetime. I had people who respected me, after years of being laughed at 
as 'that crackpot, Jackson.' And I had... Sha're." Daniel looked up. His 
expression was so sad that it made Jack's heart ache.

Jack wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders. "And then Apophis came 
and took it all away. But he's dead, Daniel."

"Do we know that? Do we *really* know that? He was dying. We sent him 
through the Stargate. How do we know that he isn't going to show up again 
in a new body? After all, Ra had a whole series of hosts. The only one we 
*really* know won't be coming back is Amonet." He nearly spat the name 
out.

Thank God, Jack didn't say out loud. "Maybe," he said. "I certainly 
*hope* he's dead and gone. But if he shows up again, we'll whup his ass 
again. And again and again until he get the point. We're getting pretty 
damn good at ass-whupping," he added, lightly elbowing Daniel in the ribs.

Daniel snickered a little at that, and Jack beamed. The atmosphere in the 
room lightened considerably at the sound.

"Listen, you really don't want to go looking for revenge. No," Jack said 
when Daniel opened his mouth to protest, "if you go on a rampage, killing 
all the Goa'uld you can, then they win. You've let them change you into 
something you aren't. You won't be the person Sha're fell in love with. 
I've seen this happen to other people, you know. In the end it turned 
them into lonely, bitter men that no one wanted to be around. And sooner 
or later, it was suicide. You helped me get past that. Let me help you 
now."

"I don't want to be alone," was the whispered reply.

"Oh, Danny, you aren't alone," Jack said, turning Daniel's head so that 
he could see the young man's eyes. Fresh tear-tracks were joining the 
barely-dry ones from before. His eyes were blood-shot and his nose was 
swollen, glowing red and running, but even looking like a mess, he was 
still the most attractive man Jack had ever seen.

Forgetting himself for one brief moment, Jack leaned over and kissed 
Daniel, like he'd wanted to for more than a year now. Just a quick kiss. 
Long enough to taste the tear-salt on the younger man's lips. Then common 
sense caught up with him and he pulled away. "Sorry," he said, 
embarrassed and more that a little apprehensive. "I shouldn't have done 
that."

Daniel just sat there staring at him, gape-mouthed. Jack held his breath, 
waiting for him to react. If he wanted to, Daniel could probably destroy 
his career over this, although he didn't really believe that the man 
would. Still, what he'd just done could be considered sexual harassment, 
not to mention the whole idiotic "don't ask, don't tell" business. The 
military was no more forgiving of bisexuals than it was of homosexuals. 
He could find himself out on his ass so fast that he'd leave skidmarks.

"Danny?" he finally ventured when there was no apparent reaction. "You're 
making me a little nervous here."

Daniel closed his mouth, then opened it again. Nothing came out.

Jack seriously considered dragging Daniel down to the med center, where 
someone was *always* on duty. Of course, what could he tell them: I 
kissed him and he went into shock?

He was beginning to think he was going to have to do just that when 
Daniel moved. Well, he *assumed* that Daniel had moved; he didn't exactly 
*see* it. Suddenly he was flat on his back with Daniel on top of him, 
kissing *him* breathless.

Brainless, even.

Jack pushed Daniel away. At least he tried; it was like wrestling with an 
octopus. But he did finally succeed long enough to say, "Danny?"

The expression on the other man's face was desperate. "Jack, please..."

Jack felt his expression soften. "What do you want?" he asked.

Daniel's chin started to quiver a little, melting Jack's heart even more. 
It wasn't fair. On anyone else, the quivering would look silly, childish. 
On Daniel's face it was almost... endearing.

"I need... I need..."

"Yes?"

Daniel slumped against him, face hidden against Jack's chest. There was a 
hard lump, resting against Jack's thigh in a way that made his breath 
quicken. This was *not* what he had expected to happen when he came in, 
but it felt so damned *good*. He knew that whatever Daniel needed, he was 
going to give it to him.

"I need to know I'm alive," was the almost inaudible reply before 
Daniel's mouth came down on his again, hot and hungry. Jack mentally 
thanked Teal'c for locking the door and Hammond for removing the 
surveillance cameras from the gym after one enterprising soldier had been 
caught, for his personal viewing, female personnel getting hot and sweaty 
during their workouts.

Then he decided to abandon thought altogether. After all, he had Daniel 
trying to devour him like a fine steak dinner. What could be better? Bare 
skin, the thought occurred to him, and he started tugging at Daniel's 
clothes while hands with obviously the same idea fumbled with the buttons 
of his own casual fatigues. The T-shirt and sweatpants went easily, so 
once he had Daniel naked, Jack helped dispose of his own clothes.

The effort of stripping apparently gave Daniel time to think, because 
when Jack looked up he was met with a worried gaze.

"Jack, if you don't want..."

Jack silenced him by pulling Daniel back on top of him and down into 
another deep kiss. "Oh, I want, all right," he said huskily when their 
lips separated again. "So how about you shut up and fuck me?"

Daniel shook his head sadly. "Nothing to use." Jack cursed lightly, for a 
moment considering making a tube of lube a permanent part of his 
wardrobe. But the comment lifted his spirits, since it implied that 
maybe, just maybe, Daniel had been thinking about this too.

"Fine," he said. "I'm sure we can find something else equally good to 
do." Daniel was still almost vibrating with tension. At least this was a 
healthier sort of tension than before. And maybe if they released *this* 
tension, it would be a step towards releasing the other.

Jack grinned and rolled them over so that Daniel was on the bottom. He 
kissed him again quickly, then moved south, kissing, licking, nibbling 
and sucking his way down Daniel's body. Daniel tasted of salty sweat with 
the underlying tang of soap from an earlier shower. The scent of him was 
pungent and earthy, and Jack indulged his sudden addiction to that scent 
by burying his nose in the man's armpit for a moment, where the scent was 
the strongest.

Finally, he took pity on the quivering man and arrived at his groin. The 
scent here was as strong as in his pits, but with an overlay of heavy 
male musk, strong enough to make his sinuses prickle. This was one of the 
things he'd missed during his marriage: the heady smell of another man's 
arousal.

His very inconvenient conscience picked that moment to start the "you're 
taking advantage of your friend while he's vulnerable" chant in the back 
of his mind, but he told it to shut up. Besides, stopping now would just 
hurt Daniel even more. It might not be the smartest thing for them to do, 
but they were past the point of no return.

Fingers tangled in his hair, trying to pull him closer, and he responded 
by doing his best to swallow Daniel whole. It wasn't really the best 
angle and he was out of practice, but after a bit of shifting, he finally 
managed to deep-throat Daniel's cock. The shout that tried to deafen him 
told him that the effort was appreciated, and he grinned around his 
mouthful. Then he started swallowing, using his throat muscles to massage 
Daniel's erection.

Considering the young man's tension -- not to mention two years of nearly 
celibate life -- it didn't take long for Daniel to start pumping his hips 
up, his body caught in the spasms of orgasm. Jack swallowed every drop. 
If asked, he would have said that he knew that Daniel was clean and *he* 
sure as hell was, but the truth was, he just wanted to absorb a bit of 
the man into himself.

Besides, he tasted *so* good.

A tug at his ears coaxed him up to where Daniel could look him in the 
eyes. "Jack," he whispered, then pulled him down for a long kiss, tasting 
every inch of Jack's mouth. Jack rubbed against him, so far gone that the 
friction was all he needed to finish himself off.

The smell of sex filled the room. Jack knew that the longer they stayed 
there, the greater the chance of being caught, but he wasn't ready to 
clean up and get dressed. Not just yet. Instead, he rolled over onto his 
back, pulling Daniel with him. Daniel curled up against him, his head 
pillowed on Jack's chest. His breathing was slowing and he seemed to be 
falling asleep.

Jack combed his fingers through the sandy-colored hair, making it stand 
up in messy spikes. Daniel groaned faintly, more purr than protest. Jack 
smiled softly to himself, then lifted his head far enough to press his 
lips to the top of Daniel's head in a gentle kiss.

"You're alive," he said quietly. "And you're going to stay that way, if I 
have anything to say about it."

Daniel shifted against him, and Jack folded his arms around him. So 
strong and yet so fragile. So needy and needed.

"Alive," the young man echoed. He sighed, then relaxed even further. "I'm 
alive..."

Then Jack felt Daniel smile against his chest. "And next time, let's 
prepare a little better, 'kay, Jack?"

Next time. That had a wonderful sound to it.

Next time.


THE END