[FIC] The Call Home, PG-13, Stargate: SG-1/Buffy/Angel

[jacks-boonie.livejournal.com]

Title: The Call Home
Author: Sanskrit (jacks_boonie)
Fandoms: Stargate: SG-1/Buffy The Vampire Slayer/Angel
Rating: PG-13 (If there are any complaints about the rating, feel free to contact me, and I will be more than happy to change it.)
Warning: Slash!
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Summary: Daniel's been called to Sunnydale . . . Somewhere he hasn't been for a very long time.

This fic is not yet finished, and I cannot guarentee the date that it will be . . . but if you're patient, I'll finish it soon enough.

Scroll down for the beginning of this fic!!



Chapter Six:

Wesley stares in frustration at the pages upon pages of the illegible squiggles known as Daniel Jackson’s handwriting.

“You’d think he would be a decent writer for being a linguist,” he scoffs, switching to the Greek dictionary to his left. “Damn it! I think he’s gone and used a Greek-Latin hybrid word again! Giles, this is impossible!”

“Well, I suggest you do what you can,” the older man sighs from his small kitchen as he takes a whistling kettle off of the stove. “His life essentially remains in your hands.”

“Comforting,” the other man mumbles, jotting something onto a notebook that rests on his knee. He sighs, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at his tired eyes.

“Would you like me to have a go at it for a while?” Giles offers as he holds out a small cup of tea.

Wesley takes it gratefully, saying, “No, no. I’m . . . Well, I just . . . Oh, dear.” He sighs once more, taking a rather large gulp of the steaming liquid.

“He was always too smart for his own good,” Giles says with a slight grin, sitting himself on the couch. “I just wish that he hadn’t felt the need to leave after . . .” He trails off as he becomes lost in thought.

/Flashback/

“Rupert! Rupert Giles!” Daniel yelps as he runs into the library, wielding a crimson-splattered sword in his right hand and a crucifix in the other. Giles runs out from his office, taking in the younger man’s appearance.

Blood coats his tattered outfit and streams in trickles down his face and the side of his neck. The fingers that so desperately clutch the wooden cross in his hand are mangled and caked with only God knows what.

“Umm . . . Can I help you?” Giles asks in confusion, staring at the man as if people such as himself walk into his library everyday.

“Yes, I’m Daniel Jackson. I was sent from the Council,” Daniel replies quickly in full lecture mode. “They thought you might need some help.”

“Oh, they did, did they?” the librarian asks indignantly. “Well, you can just go back to the Council and tell them-”

His words are cut off as a creature bursts through the double doors, flashing its sharp teeth in pure vampiric fashion. Within a flash, Daniel’s sword is up and swinging, coming down on the creature’s neck. With a sickening /squish/ and a gut wrenching /crack/ the head lops off, barely having time to hit the ground before it turns into dust.

“You were saying?” Daniel breathes heavily, backing away from the door as more rushing feet are heard from behind it.

“I was . . . um . . . Well, since you’re here, I wouldn’t mind, I suppose,” Giles manages to stutter. Truthfully, he was only just assigned to Sunnydale. He had just taken the job as the librarian, his first ever assignment on his own.

He had heard and read much of the youngest member, this Daniel Jackson, but had never thought very highly of him. He had seemed more of a snobbish attention hoarder than that of the illustrious academic he was made out to be.

Looking upon him now, Giles wonders how this man . . . this boy could be what the stories had spoken so highly of. He looks nothing like the intellectual the Council makes him out to be.

It would take a few years for Giles to truly appreciate the one known as Daniel Jackson.

/End Flashback/

“After what?” Wesley inquires. “Did something happen?”

Giles shakes himself of the memory, drawing in a tight breath.

“That, dear Wesley, is something that only Daniel has the right to expose,” he sighs with a sad smile. “And I suggest you not bring it up in front of our oh-so-favorite friend, the colonel.”

0 o 0 o 0

Jack stands over the Summers’s fireplace, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the cell phone to his ear as he listens to the other end ring . . . and ring . . . and ring . . . and-

“Hello?”

“‘Bout time,” he grumbles. “How far are you on those notes?”

“Um, Colonel, it’s . . .uh-” Giles stutters nervously.

“The notes, Mr. Giles,” Jack demands sternly. “What the hell are you two doing over there? Drinking tea?”

“Well, um . . .” Giles clears his throat. “Wesley believes that he can have them done in-”

“I want them now, Mr. Giles. I don’t want when they can be done. I want them now.”

“Well, as you said, Colonel, Daniel did write them in a good many languages, some that aren’t even in any of the books we have here, and-”

“I’ll give you one more hour,” Jack interrupts. “After that, we pack up and take Daniel back to Colorado. I’ll be in touch.”

Before Giles has a chance to answer, Jack snaps the phone shut, his eyes trained on a photograph of Buffy and Mr. and Mrs. Summers. His mind wanders to a strange day that had escaped his memory until now. Then, it had not made a lot of sense, but now . . .

/Flashback/

“Daniel?” Jack asks worriedly as he stares at the shocked face of his friend. “What’s wrong?” Jack had just been about to drag Daniel from his studies to force some food down his throat when his phone had rang.

“Yes,” Daniel says softly, his voice seeming distant and choked. “Yes, thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Slowly, he sets the receiver back in the cradle.

“Danny?” Jack inquires cautiously. “You okay?”

“I have to go,” Daniel says dazedly, grabbing the jacket off of the back of his desk chair and quickly walking towards the door.

“Whoa!” Jack says, halting him with a hand on his shoulder. “What’s the rush? Go where, Daniel?”

“I . . . I’ll tell you about it when I get back,” is Daniel’s response. “Please, Jack. I have to go.”

Jack did not see him for another week, and when he finally did return, it was with a small child by the name of Emily.

/End Flashback/

“Something happened here, Danny,” Jack whispers to the photos lining the mantle. “Something horrible . . . And I’m going to find out what.”

Chapter Seven:

Darkness is a scary thing when one is alone.

Daniel had never been afraid of the dark. The nights in the desert always dimmed to a pitch black. He had never needed a night light, even when his foster parents insisted. He had always preferred a dark room to the sunny outside.

But now . . .

Now the darkness holds something frightening. Something so terrifying that Daniel wishes that Jack were here with him.

A silly thing, to want the leader of his team there.

Out of everyone that he knows . . . which is still not very many people, but there are a few . . . Sam, for instance. She has the same training as Jack. She is in the military as Jack is. She has the brains that Jack possesses yet refuses to expose.

But she does not have the deep, chocolate color of his eyes that sparkle only ever when he is looking at the archaeologist.

Teal'c is strong like Jack. He has the mind of a warrior like Jack. He can think quickly on his feet and never hesitates to act on his instinct such as Jack does.

But he does not have that perfect, Irish grin that Jack only ever flashes in Daniel's direction, especially when he needs it the most.

Jack is who he wants.

Jack is who he needs.

But Jack is not here.

And Daniel has never felt more alone.

0 o 0 o 0

Giles and Wesley stand apprehensively at door of the Summers's house. They had desperately tried to translate Daniel's notes in the small amount of time that Colonel O'Neill had given them. Most of the notes had been somewhat understandable. Only a few words had totally taken them aback, and even then they had not seemed that important.

The door is opened roughly and Jack stands in the frame with a scowl and a glare.

"I said an hour," he asserts accusingly.

"Well, um . . ." Giles replies, glancing at his watch. "We're only five minutes late."

"Ten by my watch," Jack replies gruffly. "Did you finish?"

"For the most part," Wesley tries a smile, but decides otherwise as the colonel turns his piercing gaze upon him. "Um, well, you see . . . uh . . ."

"A few words were a little difficult to translate, but with most of the passages complete, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out what they are."

"Right," the older man says, unconvinced. "Just get in here and show me what you have."

"Yes, of course," Giles responds quickly, entering the home as quietly as possible. It is extremely late . . . or extremely early. One of the two, depending upon a certain preference.

"Let's get started, then," Jack sighs, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table that sports Daniel's messy notebook and the two men's even messier translation.

"Right," Giles clears his throat, sitting on the couch and jumping into what reminds Jack of Daniel's lecture mode. "What Daniel has is more than just the translation of the scroll we gave him. It's an entire history behind the scrolls."

"Don't ask me how he does it," Jack shakes his head. "The kid knows too much for his own good."

"He most certainly does," Wesley says with another attempted smile, which is, yet again, shot down by one of Jack's glares. "Well . . . He talks of some type of . . . symbiote, I suppose would be the closest translation we could find-"

There is a silence as the two watch the colonel shift uncomfortably and stiffen slightly.

"Do you . . . know anything about that, Colonel?" Giles inquires, looking at the other man rather suspiciously.

"What else did it say?" Jack shifts the subject back to Wesley, who grabs his own translation and begins to shuffle through it.

"The name given to this symbiote is Bastet, the Egyptian Goddess of Cats. She is said to be the daughter and wife of Ra."

"Hold up," Jack raises his hand. "I thought Hathor was the daughter and wife of Ra."

"That's . . . correct, Colonel," Wesley says with some surprise. "You know your history!"

"Yea," Jack says indignantly. "I know . . . some history."

"Right," Wesley continues. "You are correct, Colonel. Hathor was the daughter and wife of Ra, but so was Bastet. Remember, he was a god and able to have as many wives as he wanted."

"Right," Jack mumbles. "So, what about her?"

"Well, she is said to be here, in Sunnydale," Wesley explains carefully. "Apparently in some sort of . . . sacred jar. He mentions something about a canopic jar in the Sunnydale Museum . . . A jar with a lid shaped like a cat's head."

"Bastet," Jack says matter-of-factly. "Way to go, Danny."

"This jar was stolen from the museum almost three months ago," Giles informs him. "The newspaper said it was some sort of gang, but we've always believed it might have been a cult."

"Apparently, Daniel had the same idea," Wesley shrugs. "He says here that many Animal Cults have been known to steal relics and such from local museums. They believe that by 'returning' this relic to the afterlife will bring them great immortal power."

"Great immortal power?" Jack questions skeptically.

"Yes, well . . . Animal Cults tend to be ample with the ignorant," Giles sighs. "The point is that if we can gather information on a Bastet cult or something of the like, we may find this jar that Daniel is referring to."

"What's this jar supposed to do, anyway?" Jack asks curiously.

Wesley and Giles exchange a glance.

"We think it could bring the next apocalypse," the younger of the two explains quietly.

Chapter Eight:

Sam jolts into a sitting position as her shoulder is shaken. Her disoriented mind takes a moment to adjust to her surroundings, and she looks up to find her commanding officer standing above her.

“Sir,” she says in surprise, glancing at her watch. “Uh, what-”

“We gotta go, Carter,” Jack responds gruffly.

He sneaks a look at the prone archaeologist across the room, still looking as though he is sound asleep and could awaken at any moment. But they all know that may not be a reality anymore.

“Did they finish with Daniel’s notes?”

“Yea. Something about some crazy cult and the apocalypse,” Jack shakes his head in frustration. “I don’t get it, but Daniel apparently did. We have to stop this thing before it goes down. Otherwise we may not be here tomorrow.”

“Sir . . . How is this going to help Daniel?” Sam questions softly, causing the man to look very lost for a moment.

“It isn’t,” he whispers, avoiding her eyes. “Daniel’s on his own at the moment. But we’ve got to finish what he started.”

Sam stands, her head slowly clearing of its former grogginess.

“Yes, Sir,” she replies gently.

0 o 0 o 0

“What do you mean stay here?” Buffy asks indignantly.

“The colonel thinks it would be best if you all stayed here,” Mrs. Summers explains to the four teenagers gathered at the bottom of the stairs. “He and his friends left early with Mr. Giles and Mr. Price.”

“Mom! We’re supposed to be helping them!” Buffy pouts childishly. “Where did they say they were going?”

“Buffy, I really think the colonel is right,” the older woman protests. “I think you should stay out of this one. Why do you always have to-”

Mrs. Summers barely has time to finish her sentence before Buffy and the other three are heading towards the door.

“They probably went back to the hospital,” Oz suggests. “They still had Major Carter there.”

“Yea, but I’ll bet they’re long gone by now,” Xander points out.

“True,” Buffy agrees, “but maybe we’ll find something. Come on.”

0 o 0 o 0

“The soldiers?” a nurse at the front desk says rather hotly as the teens question her. “Humph! Those rude, inconsiderate people? What about them?”

“Well, they were here earlier, weren’t they?” Buffy asks quickly, full-heartedly agreeing with the woman. “They came for the blonde woman, right?”

“Yes,” the nurse’s eyes soften slightly. “The only one of them that seemed rational enough to talk to. Such a sweet lady.”

“When did they leave?”

“I’d say around six o’clock.”

“Holy cow,” Xander says, glancing at the clock on the wall to see it is already 9:30 a.m. “Man, I couldn’t get up that early if my life depended on it.”

“Thank you, very much,” Willow says to the nurse as the four make their way down the hall towards the exit.

“Oh, wait!” the nurse calls out, causing them to stop and turn. “If you do find them, would you be so kind as to tell them that their friend is awake?”

0 o 0 o 0

Come

Do not fret

Everything is fine

Though

All is lost

Everything is fine

Darkness

I have met

Everything is fine

Lives

It has cost

Everything is fine

Walls

Fall to ash

Everything is fine

Light

Shines no more

Everything is fine

Teeth

They rip, gnash

Everything is fine

Nothing

Worth fighting for

Everything is fine

But

Do not cry

Everything is fine

All

Ends in death

Everything is fine

Morning

Fades to nigh

Everything is fine

Take

Your final breath

0 o 0 o 0

Everything will be fine.

Isn’t that what Jack always says? Everything will be fine?

And what Jack says is usually right, right?

Maybe.

0 o 0 o 0

Daniel Jackson walks swiftly down an alleyway outside the hospital. His form adorns an outfit taken from a locker belonging to one of the surgeons. A little large, but it was the best he could do on such short notice.

He presses himself against the brick wall, glancing around the corner and into the brightness of the morning sun. Squinting his eyes, he rushes towards a nearby bench where a bus is just about to leave.

Squeezing his way into the closing doors, he places what little change he can find in the black jeans pocket into the small machine next to the driver.

“Just made it,” the driver smiles brightly.

“Yea,” Daniel replies unemotionally, turning and heading towards the very backseat. As the bus pulls away, the words on the front flash a bright yellow: Sunnydale Museum.

Chapter Nine:

Jack moves through the abandoned museum with a smooth silence, his P-90 poised and ready at his shoulder.

Wesley and Giles had explained that the building remained closed on Sundays.

His motions towards Sam, Teal'c, and Ferretti to follow him as he swiftly continues through the darkness, avoiding as many of the displays as he possibly can with his limited vision. He used to have 20/20 vision on even the darkest of nights. It seems old age had somehow crept up on him while his back was turned.

'Damn,' he thinks. 'Now I remember why I retired the second time.'

A sudden movement catches his eye from a few yards away, and he quickly turns his weapon on the intruder, his light catches the faintest color of blue before it disappears entirely.

"Sir?" Sam questions apprehensively, having seen nothing. Jack motions for her to be quiet, and she complies, searching the room carefully as her commanding officer listens intently to the silence that coats them all.

"Thought I saw something," the colonel finally responds when he deducts that it must have been his frail, old mind playing tricks on him . . . again. "Probably nothing, though."

"I'm not so sure, Jack," Ferretti replies, also searching the room with great care. "I thought I might have heard something when we came in. I figured it was one of you, but-"

"Shh," Jack stops him mid-sentence as his ears prick with an unfamiliar sound.

Harsh, choked breaths come from the darkness, echoing off of the tall, slanted ceiling above and making it almost impossible for the four to tell where it is coming from.

"O'Neill!" Teal'c suddenly shouts, raising his zat as a dark form rushes by the colonel. A blue streak of lightening bolts nearly inches from the figure itself, but only manages to hit an odd sort of mask from an African tribe of some kind.

The dark form, once again, disappears.

"Damn it!" Jack mutters in frustration as the light attached to his P-90 frantically searches the room. "Where the hell did it -- oomph!"

"Colonel!" Sam shouts, finding no sign of either her commanding officer or the being that most likely took him.

0 o 0 o 0

"But the museum is closed on Sundays," Xander protests as Buffy tells him to turn right at the stoplight ahead of them.

"Xander, they're military," she reminds him. "Think about it for a minute."

Xander remains silent.

"Xander!"

"What? You said a minute! I'm thinking!" he shrugs innocently, gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly. "Okay, so obviously they wouldn't really care if it was open, right? They'd just . . . walk right in."

"Or sneak in," Willow says timidly.

"Or break in," Oz suggests calmly.

"Alright. We'll try and find them. If we can't we're . . . back to square one, I guess," Buffy issues her orders. "Now . . . Wait! There they are!"

Xander pulls his truck into the parking lot of the Sunnydale Museum, stopping at the curb as three fatigue-clad figures hurry briskly down the steps.

"Where's the colonel guy?" Xander questions, rolling down the window as the military personnel approach them.

"You didn't happen to see Colonel O'Neill come out, did you?" Sam asks.

"No, we just got here," Buffy replies. "He's missing?"

"At the moment," Ferretti sighs deeply.

"There was something in there," Sam says dazedly, almost as if talking to herself as she turns back toward the looming building.

"Oh, yea," Xander says conversationally, leaning his elbow out the window. "Daniel's awake."

0 o 0 o 0

"Damn it! Son of a bitch! Let me go!" Jack struggles relentlessly against the tightening grip that has his arms pinned behind his back.

"Jack . . ." a faint, familiar voice strains, causing the colonel to cease his movement. "Please . . . Please stop."

"Danny?" the older man breathes, trying to look behind him. The clutch on his arms loosens and he is able to slip from the weakened grasp, turning quickly to have the archaeologist collapse exhaustedly into his arms.

"Jack," he whispers breathlessly. "You have to listen . . ."

"What're you doing out of the hospital?" Jack demands, his voice, though strict, coated with worry. "For God's sake, Daniel! When did you wake up?"

"Th-This morning. Jack, I have to tell you something . . . Bastet, she's-"

"A Goa'uld. Yea, I know. Those geeky guys told me all about it," Jack cuts him off. "Daniel, what're you doing here?"

"No, Jack, I . . . I-"

Daniel's breaths come more laboriously as he becomes even heavier in Jack's arms.

"Danny?" the colonel asks with worry, shaking the younger man gently. "Daniel! Come on!"

Suddenly, Daniel stands up, his grip on Jack tightening to a painful ache. The older man cries out and drops to his knees, rekindling the arthritic agony that lies within what little cartilage he has left.

As he looks up, his mouth drops open and his eyes widen.

Daniel's once beautiful, blue orbs now flash a disgusting, alien gold.

Chapter Ten:

"Awake?" Sam exclaims, her skin nearly jumping off of her bones as her mind reels with the information just given to her and the others behind her.

"Yea," Xander says casually. "But he's missing . . . too."

Before the young man can finish his sentence, the three are running towards their own military-issued vehicle.

"Think they heard me?"

"I doubt it," Buffy sighs. "Follow them. Maybe they'll find something we didn't."

"What about the colonel?" Oz asks.

"We'll deal with him after we find Giles and Wesley," Buffy replies, another sigh escaping her lips. "This is not what I had in mind for my spring break."

"Speak for yourself," Xander smiles as he excitedly pulls out into traffic after the speeding jeep in front of them. "Air Force soldiers, missing coma patient, secret encryptions . . . These are the kind of things people dream of, Buff."

"Yea," Buffy says absently. "It's what people dream of, Xander. It's what we live."

0 o 0 o 0

"Holy shit!" Jack wrenches himself out of Daniel's grip . . . or what used to be Daniel. He backs away as best he can, but finds only a hard, cement wall. As the Daniel impersonator starts towards him, he can see the gleam of something in its palm.

A hand device . . . being raised to rest merely inches above his forehead and flickering as it starts up. Jack's mouth opens to release a startled gasp as the small tendrils of light reach towards him.

Suddenly, the glowing of the device burns out, and the figure above the colonel seems to hesitate. With a sneer and what sounds like a growl, the figure turns abruptly and disappears from the room, leaving Jack in a heap of wonder and confusion.

0 o 0 o 0

"What do you mean he's gone?" Sam asks harshly of the nurse behind the desk.

"Bet she doesn't think she's so nice any more, huh?" Xander whispers to the three teens and two scholars around him. Ferretti snorts at overhearing this.

"Nah, Sam's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. I just wouldn't cross her when Daniel's in trouble," he says quietly.

"I don't doubt it," Giles replies softly as his eyebrows raise at seeing the woman's enraged features.

"I'm sorry, Major Carter," the nurse explains timidly as her voice fills with anxiety. "I checked on him this morni-"

"I don't want excuses," Sam pounds a fist on the desk, startling the middle-aged woman. "I want to know where he went."

"I . . . I-"

"He's gone," a voice echoes from down the hall. The group turns to see Jack limping down the hallway.

"Sir!" Sam rushes towards him, taking his arm and slinging it over her shoulder. He gratefully leans on her, flinching as he shifts his weight off of his burning knee.

"Thanks," he smiles with a wince. "Daniel's been snaked. That . . . Catwoman thing must have him."

"Bastet," Wesley corrects him.

"Whatever," Jack snaps. "This is over. We're bringing in a team. Carter, call Hammond. Get this town sectored off. We've got a fugitive on the run and a . . . a man down."

"Yes, Sir," Sam says, her voice cracking as his last words completely sink in.

"Hold on a minute!" Giles protests. "You can't just-"

"Yes, Mr. Giles, we can," Jack spits. "And we are. If I were you, I'd get outta here before you cause anymore trouble."

"Now, see here-" Wesley starts with an angered tone.

"No!" Jack seethes so quietly that the others almost do not hear him. "You see here. Daniel is gone. The only way he's coming back is in a body bag. He shouldn't have had to come here. He has a family, a daughter."

"Yes, Colonel O'Neill," Giles says boldly, stepping forward despite the evil glare he receives. "Please do tell us about this daughter of his. It seems only you know the details."

"Shut yer fuckin' mouth, buddy," Ferretti says, stepping in front of Jack to put him out of the line of vision. "He's done nothin' but save yer sorry asses since he got here. He doesn't need to explain anything to you hicks."

"That's enough, Lou," Jack says quietly before any of the Sunnydale citizens can respond. "He . . . He's right. Em does sorta tie into this place."

"What do you mean, O'Neill?" Teal'c inquires almost accusingly. He had taken a special liking to Daniel's daughter and had always treated her as if she were his own. Her favorite name for him was 'Uncy T,' a strange name, yet something he had become accustomed to.

"You remember Daniel kinda brought her . . . out of the blue?" Jack questions, seeing nods and continuing. "Well . . . the only thing I could get out of him at the time was that he brought her back to Colorado from here."

"Sunnydale?" Buffy asks. "What would his daughter be doing in Sunnydale?"

"That's . . . confidential," Jack tries to explain, painfully wincing as his knee flares.

"If you're speaking of the Stargate program, I suggest you not bother keeping information from us," Giles replies, crossing his arms.

A silence coats the hall as the man's words set in to all around him.

"Uh . . ." Xander starts, raising a finger in a feeble attempt at gaining everyone's attention. "What's a Stargate?"