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crossoverficTitle: 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 Eleven:
Secrets plague us all.
Some joyous.
Some dark.
Some unfaithful.
Some tragic.
Whatever the secret,
Whatever it holds,
Its disloyalty taints
That which is true.
So please,
Be utterly careful
When a secret finds
You.
0 o 0 o 0
Too many secrets haunt the mind of Daniel Jackson. Too many to know. Too many to tell. Too many.
Jack stands in the middle of a hall, surrounded by those who want to know, who cannot know but must. They stare with accusing eyes, feeling forgotten and abandoned by the one they feel so passionately for.
Daniel trusts Jack with these unspoken memories, these words that no one has ever had the confidence to ask about. Jack has held them silently, boldly daring anyone to ask who must not.
But now comes the time when that dare has been accepted, when Jack’s defenses have been beaten upon and feel weary and weak. The barrier once hiding the unknown has now cracked, and a shimmer of light has quaked their hibernation.
Daniel’s secrets are no longer safe.
0 o 0 o 0
“Uh . . .” the geek that continues to drool over the military personnel raises a hand in question. “What’s a Stargate?”
Shit. This cannot be good.
Jack and his team stare at the others stoically.
‘How did that man find out? Danny, if that damn snake doesn’t do you in, I certainly will,’ Jack thinks angrily.
“Sorry. Don’t know what you’re talking about,” the colonel says the same words he had been told to say had the question of the Stargate ever come up in public.
“It’s an alien technology,” Giles says crossly. “It’s said to-”
Before the man can finish his sentence, Jack lurches forward, slapping his hand over the librarian’s mouth and shoving him against the wall as he leans on his injured knee painfully.
“Not another word,” he seethes into Giles’s ear, directing his gaze to the cameras hanging high above them throughout the abandoned hallway. Buffy starts forward in an attempt to defend her mentor, but Giles motions for her to stay where she is.
“Um . . . Sir?” a timid voice says from the desk down a ways.
They all turn to see the nurse, standing from her chair and placing her hand nervously on the phone.
“I-I’m sorry, Sir, but we do not allow that type of behavior in this hospital,” she explains, swallowing audibly. “If you don’t stop, I’ll have to call security.” Her hand clenches tighter around the receiver she has removed from its cradle.
“It’s fine,” Wesley explains in his most pleasant of voices. “We were just leaving. Thank you.”
The nurse gives a sigh of relief as they start their way towards the exit.
0 o 0 o 0
“Alright,” Giles says as Jack is escorted to the rumpled couch in his living room. “It’s time for an explanation. You owe us that much, at least.”
Jack winces as Sam lifts his aching leg onto an ottoman, looking around at the other inquiring gazes.
“Fine,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.
“Sir?” Sam questions cautiously. “Are you sure-”
“He obviously already knows about it, Carter,” Jack explains. “And if we don’t tell them, he will. I’d rather it be us then some . . . librarian.”
Giles crosses his arms indignantly and leans against the wall opposite of the couch.
Jack takes a breath and releases it slowly before starting into his exposition.
“Alright . . . A few decades ago in Egypt, some scientists found this big stone ring . . .”
/Nearly an hour later/
“ . . . And that’s what we do. We travel to other planets, we make contact with their civilizations, and we try to form alliances against the Goa’uld.”
A silence coats the room for a moment before an outburst from Xander breaks the tension.
“I knew it! All those years of being paranoid about the government have finally paid off! I knew there had to be something they were keeping from us!”
“That’s all fine and well,” Giles says grumpily, having had to sit through almost an hour of something he was already told about, “but it doesn’t explain Daniel’s daughter being in Sunnydale.”
Jack sighs. Can’t it just be over already?
“Yea, about her . . .” he starts, leaning forward and stretching out his aching muscles. His knee had soothed itself to a dull throb over the period of the eventful story telling. Hopefully, he would be able to walk on it again after this whole mess.
“Apparently, before Sha’re, the woman Daniel married on Abydos, had Apophis’s kid, she was pregnant with Emily, Danny’s little bundle of joy . . . and screams.”
“How the hell did she end up here? Wouldn’t Apophis have killed her?” Ferretti asks in confusion.
“That was the plan . . . but Sha’re convinced that snake in her to save Em,” Jack continues. “I don’t really remember what he said . . . I think it might have been one of the servants . . . but somehow, Em was able to get to the Asguard.”
“The Asguard?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Yea,” Jack shrugs. “One night, they beam Danny up, say ‘Congrats. You’re a dad,’ and send him on his way. Needless to say, Daniel’s a little bit shocked and confused. What the hell’s he supposed to do with a kid?”
“Take care of it, maybe?” Buffy jumps in accusingly. “So he just decides he can’t be a father and dumps her in Sunnydale?”
“No,” Jack defends. “The Asguard told Daniel about Apophis’s plans to have her killed and that he would probably come after her. Danny took her to the only place that no one would think to look for her. Somewhere he had never told anyone about.”
The room falls silent at the revelation of Daniel’s plight over the past years. A child appears out of nowhere, and he is forced to give her up in order to keep her safe.
“Anyway, that’s all I really know about that. He never said who this friend was that he left her with,” Jack explains. “Giles, you know where we can find this person?”
“Yes,” Giles says grimly. “The Sunnydale Cemetery. Third grave in the seventh row.”
“Damn,” the colonel sighs, not only because they no longer have any more links to Daniel but because the archaeologist had never mentioned the loss of his friend. “Do you know anything about them?”
“As a matter of fact, I believe they were an ex of his,” the librarian replies, straightening out of his leaning position.
“Really?” Ferretti asks in amusement. “This lucky lady have a name?”
Giles returns the man’s look of amusement as he says, “His name was Aaron.”
Chapter Twelve:
We used to be so happy in this place we called a home.
But now your gone and no one's there. I'm left here all alone.
And if I dream I know I'll see your sweet and shining face.
The one and only thing that I can see inside this place.
The darkness now surrounds me. Save my soul. It's not too late.
If no one comes to save me, what becomes my destined fate?
0 o 0 o 0
"Aaron?" Jack asks, a hint of jealousy in his tone.
"Yes," Giles smirks, glad to see the colonel shift uncomfortably. "His ex husband."
"Husband?" Jack nearly jumps up off of the couch, sucking in a tight breath of air as his knee is jolted. "What do you mean husband?"
"Are you unaware of what the term 'husband' means, Colonel?" Giles asks, his eyebrows raising in mock inquiry. "I would be glad to-"
"I know what it means, smart ass," Jack spits, glaring daggers at the other man. "I'd just like to know when Daniel had a . . . husband."
"Oh, it was years ago," the librarian explains to Jack's relief. "Before he went to Colorado, I'd imagine. Even before he met this Sha're of his."
"Yea, so what's his story?" Ferretti asks, annoyed that the man seems to take pleasure in torturing his friend. "He's dead, right?"
"Yes," Giles nods sadly. "He was an upstanding member of the Council. It's how he and Daniel met."
/Flashback/
"Damn. I hate these blasted meetings. They're so . . ."
"Dull," Daniel finishes for the Scottish man sitting next to him. He had been watching the older man for a while with interest . . . as the older man had been watching him.
He has shaggy black hair that is cropped just below his ears, and his eyes are a brilliant shade of green that the younger man has never seen before.
"Exactly," the man smiles warmly at him. "You must be new. I've never seen you here before. My name's Aaron Stewart." The man extends a hand towards him.
"Daniel," he smiles back, taking the offered hand. "Daniel Jackson."
"Ah, yes, the one I've been hearing so much about," Aaron says. "I heard you gave our Mr. Giles quite an introduction. Good show!"
Daniel looks to his white and blue streaked sneakers, sighing as he sees them spotted with dried blood.
"Never can get the blood off your shoes, can you?" he asks quietly, causing Aaron to look down as well.
"Well, that's why you have two pairs," he replies, placing his neat, black shoes next to his own to compare. "One for the dull, depressing meetings, and one for fighting the ugly, ooze-dripping demons."
Daniel laughs at this, his eyes sparkling for what has to be the first time since his parents had died.
"Wish I could afford another pair of shoes," he chuckles. "At the moment, I can barely pay the rent on my apartment."
"Oh, Danny me boy, that won't do at all," Aaron says reprovingly. "Tell you what, I have an old pair of shoes, still fairly decent looking, that I've grown out of. They might be a little big, but what do you say?"
"Oh, Mr. Stewart, that's very kind, but-"
"And we'll have none of that 'Mr. Stewart' nonsense, will we? Aaron's my name, and Aaron it shall be til the day I die. Now, no buts about it, Danny boy, the shoes are yours. I'll have them to you by the time of our next meeting."
"Thank you, M- . . . Aaron," Daniel blushes slightly.
"Your accent," Aaron points out suddenly. "It's Egyptian, yes?"
Daniel's eyebrows raise in surprise as he nods. He had tried very hard to hide it, adapting as much of an American accent as possible.
"You must be a linguist," the older man deducts. "You can always distinguish a linguist amongst the others. Their voices are a little more lyrical, their tongues a little more in tune to the language than most."
Daniel sits and listens to Aaron through the whole meeting, not really caring who is giving it or what it is about.
/End Flashback/
"Council?" Ferretti asks.
"It's . . . confidential," Giles says, staring at Jack with a small smirk.
"Whatever," the colonel glares back. "We need to get back out there and find him . . . We might be able to stop him if we stick together. Just remember . . . It's not Daniel anymore. We shoot to kill, no matter the circumstances."
"Sir, the Tok'Ra-"
"The Tok'Ra won't help us, and you know it," Jack says harshly. "They're too busy wrapped up in their war with Anubis to bother with us . . . I promised him, Sam. I promised him I would never let this happen."
The last sentences are uttered so faintly that only the major can actually hear them. Her eyes take a look of pity and she nods.
"Yes, Sir," she whispers, standing to her feet and helping her commanding officer to his.
0 o 0 o 0
I damn this place for which they push
Me into everyday.
They make my life so miserable in
Every possible way.
I wish they'd go, I wish they'd die. Why
Won't they leave it be?
They say that I'm so lucky but the
Tortured one is me.
Chapter Thirteen:
The beast sleeps . . . for the moment. Daniel may not agree with what it has done, but they seem to have the same goal.
They must stop the destruction of earth . . . again.
The archaeologist weaves through a tattered alleyway, his vision blurred and his head aching in protest against every step that shoots up through his body. The only thing that drives him onward is the thought of Jack.
Jack loves him.
He had detected the faint metallic taste of blood on his lips when he had awoken in the hospital, and the bandage on Jack’s arm that he had noticed in the museum only confirmed his suspicions.
There was only one ritual like that in the entire realm of spells and hexes. Wesley must have mentioned it, hoping that Daniel had a wife or girlfriend of some sort.
The archaeologist laughs at the thought of not being able to see the look upon the other scholar’s face when Jack suggested that he do the ritual. What other pleasant adversities had he missed out on?
He places his hand against the crumbling brick wall as his eyes distort his vision into nothing more than a watery world.
“Hey, buddy, you look lost,” a soft, lilting voice says from behind him. He stops, not daring to turn. He does not sense any sort of demon, but not everything is always as it seems, especially in Sunnydale.
“You wanna head back to my place? I could show you a good time,” the woman steps in front of him, and Daniel tries his best to focus his flaming eyes. “You drunk or something? Doesn’t matter, really . . . as long as you have money.”
A hooker. Nothing more than a hooker. Daniel almost laughs, but the sound that escapes his mouth is that of a whimper.
“Man, you must really be wasted,” the woman says, placing a hand on his forehead, and, feeling how hot it is, pulls away quickly. “Oh, man. You’re sick, aren’t you? Come on, I know a place you can crash for the night, buddy. They’ll take good care of ya.”
Daniel feels his arm being slung over her shoulders and the insistent tug that pulls him in the direction further down the alleyway. Suddenly, his senses spike.
Blood. He can smell it. Close, very close. So near that he can almost taste it in his mouth. He stops their forward motion, causing the girl to look at him in confusion. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as she releases him and backs against the wall.
“What the fuck are you, man?” she screeches, staring at his blood-red eyes and the two fangs that have grown from his teeth.
Daniel moans in agony, clutching his head as he falls towards the ground. Slowly, the girl steps forward, curious as to what might be happening to him.
“Hey . . . Buddy, are you-”
Before she can finish her sentence, the man lurches at her, shoving her against the rough, uneven bricks and sinking his teeth deep into the side of her neck. Her lips part in an attempt to scream, but her voice seems stuck within her throat.
She stands helplessly, her body becoming weaker and weaker as her life is sucked away. A meaningless life, really. One full of betrayal, endless one-night stands, beatings, and much more. Why shouldn’t it end?
Daniel slowly steps away from the now motionless body, watching as it crumples to the ground. His own body begins to shake in horror, his eyes wide with fear as he realizes what he has done . . . and what he has become.
No, no, no. It isn’t supposed to be this way. This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be human. Human. God, what in the hell has happened?
No. No time to think of that now. There is something to do . . . Something he must finish. Without another glance at the lifeless body at his feet, he starts down the alley once again, his steps quickening as he realizes his new-found strength.
0 o 0 o 0
Blood has a distinct smell.
Metallic, almost bitter in your nose . . . but always detectable.
0 o 0 o 0
“So where do we go first?” Willow asks quietly of the silent group in Giles’s living room.
“We need to research the local ‘animal worshippers,’ ” Jack replies solidly. “You said there were some cult freaks that broke into the museum, right?”
“Yes,” Giles nods. “The fact that Bastet is a cat should narrow it down some . . . I think we may be able to find them tonight.”
“Get on that,” Jack orders, ignoring the glare he receives in return. “Carter . . . We’ll hold off on the troops for now, but if the situation gets out of hand, we make the call, got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” Sam replies dutifully.
“Alright,” Jack sighs, looking around the room at the pitiful excuse of a team he has been forced to work with. “Let’s get to work.”
0 o 0 o 0
This is it. This is the place where he has been trying to find his way to.
“Found it,” he smiles with a hysterical chuckle.
Stepping forward, he places a hand on the rusty door of the abandoned apartment complex. Upon entering, he finds a single robed figure standing in the center of the empty lobby, a small, lit candle sitting on the tiled floor before them.
“Daniel,” the figure says in a deep, unpleasant voice. The archaeologist cringes as the familiar accent echoes throughout the room, and he stares solemnly into the eyes that he has missed for so very long.
“Aaron,” he replies calmly, his blue eyes flashing with distant memories.
Chapter Fourteen:
Save me from the wandering days that pass so aching slow my heart can bear the moaning of its darkest depths no longer.
Save me from the gnarled hands that pull with a strength I can no longer fight against into the raging abyss from which there is no escape.
Save me from the nightmare that has come to life in such a dreary, gray world and dragged me from the echo that was once what we used to be.
Save me from my wildest fears that scratch the hope from my body and tear at the safety of my dreams where we were once guarded by a cocoon of warmth.
Save me from myself.
0 o 0 o 0
“Apartment!” the creature in Jack’s grasp screeches in agony as the colonel digs his fingers even more tightly into its windpipe. “Abandoned . . . Apartment . . . C-Complex.” It wheezes out the answer through a liquidy, blood spattered voice.
Jack drops what is left of the disgusting demon to the ground and turns to the others.
“You know where that is?” he demands harshly of the Sunnydale natives. The group hesitates, still staring at the remains of the rasping pile at his feet.
“Well?” he barks loudly, making them jump.
“Y-Yes,” Giles stutters, clearly wanting to avoid a confrontation. He is seriously regretting getting on this man’s bad side. “The complex is a few blocks away. That way.” He points.
“Let’s go,” Jack orders, stalking off towards the military jeep. The others follow cautiously, none wanting to disobey after what was just seen.
They had started at the local demon informant bar. Many demons were hell bent on protecting their own, but when the apocalypse was involved, they tended to save their own skins.
The first was very little help and, currently, a splatter on the bar wall, courtesy of the colonel. The second had been a dead end, and, ironically, had been slaughtered in one, also courtesy of our favorite colonel. Finally, the last that they had attempted to get information out of, and the most helpful; still alive, but most likely not for very long.
Giles does his best to keep up with the speeding vehicle ahead of him, wary of the other cars that line the streets at such a late hour. The colonel weaves dangerously through traffic, seemingly unaware of the others that honk and have to swerve so as not to be hit.
This colonel must really like Daniel, and Giles does not want to be the sorry soul that gets in his way when the younger man is in trouble.
0 o 0 o 0
“Danny,” the dark figure across the room sighs with contentment. “I knew it would be someone important, but you . . . this is such a surprise! We can reunite, you and I! It’ll be like old times.”
“Old times,” Daniel’s eyes glaze with memorable anger. “The old times are gone, Aaron. The old times were when we were a family. When you and me and Em lived happily ever after in such a dark and dreary place . . . When you were still alive.”
“But I am, Danny,” Aaron spreads his arms and twirls around, his long robe flaring in the process. “Look at me! So young, so strong. I can’t imagine why I didn’t turn in the first place.”
“Because we promised, Aaron,” the archaeologist says weakly, his body sagging in exhaustion from keeping his desires at bay. “We promised. We never wanted to see each other like this. Never like this, Aaron.”
“But you couldn’t do it,” the other man boasts proudly. “When push came to shove, you couldn’t kill me, could you? I was right there! I was screaming for you to do it! I begged and I sobbed and I pleaded . . . and you left me.”
“I-I know,” Daniel whispers, tears in his voice. “I know that we promised . . . but I could never hurt you, Aaron . . . Not even if you are what you are now.”
“Then come with me, Danny,” Aaron extends a hand in his direction. “Come with me, and together we will rule this pitiful world hand in hand, side by side. You and me, together forever.”
Daniel hesitates, his eyes searching the lifeless ones before him.
“Forever?” he questions, quivering where he stands.
“And always,” Aaron smiles warmly, slowly starting forward towards the younger man.
He reaches out, his fingers splayed as if willing him to take the offered hand. Daniel extends his own hand forward . . . driving the hidden sword behind him into the gut of his former lover with the other.
Chapter Fifteen:
The sound that emits from Aaron's lips is that between a laugh and a sob. It wrenches Daniel's stomach into a knot, causing bile to rise towards his throat, but he forces it at bay, keeping steady eye contact with the other . . . man, if you could even call him that anymore.
"A sword, Danny?" Aaron asks breathlessly, a smile spreading his lips widely in a sort of animated grin. "Is that all you came with?"
"No," Daniel shakes his head as the whisper escapes his tight throat. "I haven't the heart to use what else I brought with me, Aaron . . . I only pray you will forgive me when you die by my hand."
" 'Haven't the heart.' How sweet, Dannyboy. You always were the sentimental one," Aaron scoffs, grabbing hold of the blade penetrating his chest. "I forgive you for trying, Love, but only one of us will die tonight. And, well, since I didn't exactly make any plans to . . ."
As he trails off, his grip tightens upon the sword's blade. With a sharp, piercing shout of agony, he jerks it from his chest, blood spilling onto the ground and staining his shirt. Before Daniel has time to react, Aaron has the blade turned around, and a hot, wet pain invades his abdomen.
Staring into his former lover's cold and lifeless eyes, his eyebrows knit together in a look of innocent confusion. His chin slowly drops to his chest, and his fading, blue orbs rest upon the swords blade . . . submerged almost to the hilt into his stomach.
He takes a gasping breath and grabs Aaron's shoulder roughly as the blade is twisted, his eyes growing wide and his entire body trembling with exertion.
"Damn," Aaron winces with fake sympathy. "That must really hurt."
The young archaeologist tastes a metallic liquid pool into his mouth from his throat and feels it dribble past his lips like drool. His head, suddenly, becomes too heavy for his neck and it lolls forward, his only sight, now, three pairs of feet.
. . . Three?
0 o 0 o 0
He had told them to stay in the car. He had told them he would settle this on his own. He had ordered them. He had pleaded with them. He had begged them.
And still they would not listen.
Even threatening a court martial was of no use. They simply did not care about their careers as much as they did Daniel. And, in a way, that made Jack proud to call them his team. His own. His kids.
The Sunnydale group was also very difficult to deal with. Even with his most intimidating glare and loudest, most frightening voice, they refused to follow his orders.
'We're not some little militia that you can just boss around,' the blonde one had argued. What was her name? Barbie? Babby? Biffy? Whatever.
'This is our town,' she had said. 'And we intend to fight for it.'
Right.
It had seemed like a good plan. The more the merrier . . . but now, the colonel wishes he had left them all there. Tied them to the car. Knocked them out one by one. Hunted this damn thing on his own. Because now . . . now he and the others walk in upon a scene that makes Jack's insides turn ice cold.
He does not register his feet moving towards the pair in the center of the room. Only the metal object protruding from Daniel's back.
He does not realize his eyes are slowly dimming and a low, deep growl is emitting from his throat. Only the muffled gurgling noise that Daniel makes as the sword is wrenched sharply to the right.
He does not comprehend the look of amused surprise that the other man gives him as he comes to an abrupt halt next to them both. Only the fact that he is the one holding the handle.
He is the one causing Daniel this pain. He is the one that is responsible for all of the happenings that have transpired these past couple of days. He is the one that must pay.
Jack's hand comes up in a lightening speed, aiming to rip every muscle causing that grin to exist from the ugly, pale face before him. But weak, cold fingers grab his trembling hand before he can reach that disgusting smile.
The colonel's head whips around to Daniel, who stares at him with wide, pained eyes as he sways on his feet.
"Please . . . No, Jack," he gurgles through a voice of liquid. "I . . . I can t-take c-care of this."
"Danny," Jack shakes his head in disbelief, but Daniel only smiles that shy, innocent grin, raising his violently shaking fingers to the colonel's face and stroking his cheek, leaving a smear of crimson liquid in its wake.
"I got it, Jack," he whispers softly.
Aaron stares at the exchange curiously.
"So," he says, his tone sounding almost indignant, "this is the man you fuck now, is it? I wasn't good enough then? I can see he's the strong, military type. Didn't know you went for those, Dannyboy. You really are a fuck toy, aren't you?"
Jack's face turns a brilliant shade of angry red, his teeth clenching painfully.
"St-Stay out of this . . . Aaron," Daniel's quivering voice demands to no avail. Jack looks to him, eyebrows raised.
"This is Aaron?"
Daniel nods as he stares with loathing orbs into those lifeless eyes, truthfully uncaring of how Jack found out about him.
"So he's a . . ."
"A vampire," Daniel finishes weakly, his knees shaking but refusing to collapse. "J-Jack, please . . . Please go . . . I need to finish this . . . a-alone."
Daniel's watery blues turn to the colonel in a begging attempt to get him to leave.
"Not like this, Danny," Jack whispers, shaking his head as he once more glances at the sword still jutting from his abdomen. "No, I-"
"Is it this that bothers you?" Aaron gives the swords a small jiggle, causing Daniel to hiss in pain. "Oh, well, why didn't you say so! We can be rid of that if a jiffy!"
Before either of them can react, Aaron tears the blade from Daniel, causing the archaeologist to cry out and collapse into Jack's arms.
"There! All better!" Aaron smiles, licking Daniel's blood from the metal weapon as his eyes shine with bemusement. "See, Danny? We have so much fun together!"
"You son of a bitch!" Jack can only yell at the creature before him, afraid to move the younger man in his arms for fear of worsening his condition.
"Now, now, Jack," Aaron tilts his head as he uses the name he had heard Daniel say. "Let's be gentlemen about this. Obviously, he can't die. Otherwise I wouldn't have run him through, now would I?"
"What-" before Jack can finish, Daniel jerks in his arms, breaking into spasms of agony. His mouth opens in a silent scream as he writhes within the colonel's grasp.
"What'd you do to him?" Jack demands harshly, turning burning eyes onto the vampire.
Before anymore can be said, the archaeologist sits up and turns to Jack, long fangs glistening as he lunges towards the colonel. Jack has just enough time to grab Daniel's shoulders and hold him back, the sharp-edged teeth coming within centimeters of his neck.
"Holy shit!" he breathes as his stomach drops with the sense that he has lost Daniel once and for all this time. He notices the others starting towards them.
"Stay there!" he commands. They hesitate, but move no further. "Just . . . don't come any closer!" Daniel continues to strain against the colonel's hold, his eyes a blood red.
"As I said, Jack," Aaron smiles that strange, wide smile again. "He can't be killed . . . And he can't return to you. So I would suggest leaving him here with me . . . You can go as long as he stays. And in his current condition, I would take the offer."
Jack stares in disbelief at this Aaron character, then back at Daniel . . . or what used to be Daniel.
If the Daniel he knew is gone . . . then that means that this incantation that was supposed to prove they loved each other did not work, which means . . .
Jack's heart twists at the thought. But his mind is set.
He could never leave Daniel here. Never . . . Right?
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 Eleven:
Secrets plague us all.
Some joyous.
Some dark.
Some unfaithful.
Some tragic.
Whatever the secret,
Whatever it holds,
Its disloyalty taints
That which is true.
So please,
Be utterly careful
When a secret finds
You.
0 o 0 o 0
Too many secrets haunt the mind of Daniel Jackson. Too many to know. Too many to tell. Too many.
Jack stands in the middle of a hall, surrounded by those who want to know, who cannot know but must. They stare with accusing eyes, feeling forgotten and abandoned by the one they feel so passionately for.
Daniel trusts Jack with these unspoken memories, these words that no one has ever had the confidence to ask about. Jack has held them silently, boldly daring anyone to ask who must not.
But now comes the time when that dare has been accepted, when Jack’s defenses have been beaten upon and feel weary and weak. The barrier once hiding the unknown has now cracked, and a shimmer of light has quaked their hibernation.
Daniel’s secrets are no longer safe.
0 o 0 o 0
“Uh . . .” the geek that continues to drool over the military personnel raises a hand in question. “What’s a Stargate?”
Shit. This cannot be good.
Jack and his team stare at the others stoically.
‘How did that man find out? Danny, if that damn snake doesn’t do you in, I certainly will,’ Jack thinks angrily.
“Sorry. Don’t know what you’re talking about,” the colonel says the same words he had been told to say had the question of the Stargate ever come up in public.
“It’s an alien technology,” Giles says crossly. “It’s said to-”
Before the man can finish his sentence, Jack lurches forward, slapping his hand over the librarian’s mouth and shoving him against the wall as he leans on his injured knee painfully.
“Not another word,” he seethes into Giles’s ear, directing his gaze to the cameras hanging high above them throughout the abandoned hallway. Buffy starts forward in an attempt to defend her mentor, but Giles motions for her to stay where she is.
“Um . . . Sir?” a timid voice says from the desk down a ways.
They all turn to see the nurse, standing from her chair and placing her hand nervously on the phone.
“I-I’m sorry, Sir, but we do not allow that type of behavior in this hospital,” she explains, swallowing audibly. “If you don’t stop, I’ll have to call security.” Her hand clenches tighter around the receiver she has removed from its cradle.
“It’s fine,” Wesley explains in his most pleasant of voices. “We were just leaving. Thank you.”
The nurse gives a sigh of relief as they start their way towards the exit.
0 o 0 o 0
“Alright,” Giles says as Jack is escorted to the rumpled couch in his living room. “It’s time for an explanation. You owe us that much, at least.”
Jack winces as Sam lifts his aching leg onto an ottoman, looking around at the other inquiring gazes.
“Fine,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.
“Sir?” Sam questions cautiously. “Are you sure-”
“He obviously already knows about it, Carter,” Jack explains. “And if we don’t tell them, he will. I’d rather it be us then some . . . librarian.”
Giles crosses his arms indignantly and leans against the wall opposite of the couch.
Jack takes a breath and releases it slowly before starting into his exposition.
“Alright . . . A few decades ago in Egypt, some scientists found this big stone ring . . .”
/Nearly an hour later/
“ . . . And that’s what we do. We travel to other planets, we make contact with their civilizations, and we try to form alliances against the Goa’uld.”
A silence coats the room for a moment before an outburst from Xander breaks the tension.
“I knew it! All those years of being paranoid about the government have finally paid off! I knew there had to be something they were keeping from us!”
“That’s all fine and well,” Giles says grumpily, having had to sit through almost an hour of something he was already told about, “but it doesn’t explain Daniel’s daughter being in Sunnydale.”
Jack sighs. Can’t it just be over already?
“Yea, about her . . .” he starts, leaning forward and stretching out his aching muscles. His knee had soothed itself to a dull throb over the period of the eventful story telling. Hopefully, he would be able to walk on it again after this whole mess.
“Apparently, before Sha’re, the woman Daniel married on Abydos, had Apophis’s kid, she was pregnant with Emily, Danny’s little bundle of joy . . . and screams.”
“How the hell did she end up here? Wouldn’t Apophis have killed her?” Ferretti asks in confusion.
“That was the plan . . . but Sha’re convinced that snake in her to save Em,” Jack continues. “I don’t really remember what he said . . . I think it might have been one of the servants . . . but somehow, Em was able to get to the Asguard.”
“The Asguard?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Yea,” Jack shrugs. “One night, they beam Danny up, say ‘Congrats. You’re a dad,’ and send him on his way. Needless to say, Daniel’s a little bit shocked and confused. What the hell’s he supposed to do with a kid?”
“Take care of it, maybe?” Buffy jumps in accusingly. “So he just decides he can’t be a father and dumps her in Sunnydale?”
“No,” Jack defends. “The Asguard told Daniel about Apophis’s plans to have her killed and that he would probably come after her. Danny took her to the only place that no one would think to look for her. Somewhere he had never told anyone about.”
The room falls silent at the revelation of Daniel’s plight over the past years. A child appears out of nowhere, and he is forced to give her up in order to keep her safe.
“Anyway, that’s all I really know about that. He never said who this friend was that he left her with,” Jack explains. “Giles, you know where we can find this person?”
“Yes,” Giles says grimly. “The Sunnydale Cemetery. Third grave in the seventh row.”
“Damn,” the colonel sighs, not only because they no longer have any more links to Daniel but because the archaeologist had never mentioned the loss of his friend. “Do you know anything about them?”
“As a matter of fact, I believe they were an ex of his,” the librarian replies, straightening out of his leaning position.
“Really?” Ferretti asks in amusement. “This lucky lady have a name?”
Giles returns the man’s look of amusement as he says, “His name was Aaron.”
Chapter Twelve:
We used to be so happy in this place we called a home.
But now your gone and no one's there. I'm left here all alone.
And if I dream I know I'll see your sweet and shining face.
The one and only thing that I can see inside this place.
The darkness now surrounds me. Save my soul. It's not too late.
If no one comes to save me, what becomes my destined fate?
0 o 0 o 0
"Aaron?" Jack asks, a hint of jealousy in his tone.
"Yes," Giles smirks, glad to see the colonel shift uncomfortably. "His ex husband."
"Husband?" Jack nearly jumps up off of the couch, sucking in a tight breath of air as his knee is jolted. "What do you mean husband?"
"Are you unaware of what the term 'husband' means, Colonel?" Giles asks, his eyebrows raising in mock inquiry. "I would be glad to-"
"I know what it means, smart ass," Jack spits, glaring daggers at the other man. "I'd just like to know when Daniel had a . . . husband."
"Oh, it was years ago," the librarian explains to Jack's relief. "Before he went to Colorado, I'd imagine. Even before he met this Sha're of his."
"Yea, so what's his story?" Ferretti asks, annoyed that the man seems to take pleasure in torturing his friend. "He's dead, right?"
"Yes," Giles nods sadly. "He was an upstanding member of the Council. It's how he and Daniel met."
/Flashback/
"Damn. I hate these blasted meetings. They're so . . ."
"Dull," Daniel finishes for the Scottish man sitting next to him. He had been watching the older man for a while with interest . . . as the older man had been watching him.
He has shaggy black hair that is cropped just below his ears, and his eyes are a brilliant shade of green that the younger man has never seen before.
"Exactly," the man smiles warmly at him. "You must be new. I've never seen you here before. My name's Aaron Stewart." The man extends a hand towards him.
"Daniel," he smiles back, taking the offered hand. "Daniel Jackson."
"Ah, yes, the one I've been hearing so much about," Aaron says. "I heard you gave our Mr. Giles quite an introduction. Good show!"
Daniel looks to his white and blue streaked sneakers, sighing as he sees them spotted with dried blood.
"Never can get the blood off your shoes, can you?" he asks quietly, causing Aaron to look down as well.
"Well, that's why you have two pairs," he replies, placing his neat, black shoes next to his own to compare. "One for the dull, depressing meetings, and one for fighting the ugly, ooze-dripping demons."
Daniel laughs at this, his eyes sparkling for what has to be the first time since his parents had died.
"Wish I could afford another pair of shoes," he chuckles. "At the moment, I can barely pay the rent on my apartment."
"Oh, Danny me boy, that won't do at all," Aaron says reprovingly. "Tell you what, I have an old pair of shoes, still fairly decent looking, that I've grown out of. They might be a little big, but what do you say?"
"Oh, Mr. Stewart, that's very kind, but-"
"And we'll have none of that 'Mr. Stewart' nonsense, will we? Aaron's my name, and Aaron it shall be til the day I die. Now, no buts about it, Danny boy, the shoes are yours. I'll have them to you by the time of our next meeting."
"Thank you, M- . . . Aaron," Daniel blushes slightly.
"Your accent," Aaron points out suddenly. "It's Egyptian, yes?"
Daniel's eyebrows raise in surprise as he nods. He had tried very hard to hide it, adapting as much of an American accent as possible.
"You must be a linguist," the older man deducts. "You can always distinguish a linguist amongst the others. Their voices are a little more lyrical, their tongues a little more in tune to the language than most."
Daniel sits and listens to Aaron through the whole meeting, not really caring who is giving it or what it is about.
/End Flashback/
"Council?" Ferretti asks.
"It's . . . confidential," Giles says, staring at Jack with a small smirk.
"Whatever," the colonel glares back. "We need to get back out there and find him . . . We might be able to stop him if we stick together. Just remember . . . It's not Daniel anymore. We shoot to kill, no matter the circumstances."
"Sir, the Tok'Ra-"
"The Tok'Ra won't help us, and you know it," Jack says harshly. "They're too busy wrapped up in their war with Anubis to bother with us . . . I promised him, Sam. I promised him I would never let this happen."
The last sentences are uttered so faintly that only the major can actually hear them. Her eyes take a look of pity and she nods.
"Yes, Sir," she whispers, standing to her feet and helping her commanding officer to his.
0 o 0 o 0
I damn this place for which they push
Me into everyday.
They make my life so miserable in
Every possible way.
I wish they'd go, I wish they'd die. Why
Won't they leave it be?
They say that I'm so lucky but the
Tortured one is me.
Chapter Thirteen:
The beast sleeps . . . for the moment. Daniel may not agree with what it has done, but they seem to have the same goal.
They must stop the destruction of earth . . . again.
The archaeologist weaves through a tattered alleyway, his vision blurred and his head aching in protest against every step that shoots up through his body. The only thing that drives him onward is the thought of Jack.
Jack loves him.
He had detected the faint metallic taste of blood on his lips when he had awoken in the hospital, and the bandage on Jack’s arm that he had noticed in the museum only confirmed his suspicions.
There was only one ritual like that in the entire realm of spells and hexes. Wesley must have mentioned it, hoping that Daniel had a wife or girlfriend of some sort.
The archaeologist laughs at the thought of not being able to see the look upon the other scholar’s face when Jack suggested that he do the ritual. What other pleasant adversities had he missed out on?
He places his hand against the crumbling brick wall as his eyes distort his vision into nothing more than a watery world.
“Hey, buddy, you look lost,” a soft, lilting voice says from behind him. He stops, not daring to turn. He does not sense any sort of demon, but not everything is always as it seems, especially in Sunnydale.
“You wanna head back to my place? I could show you a good time,” the woman steps in front of him, and Daniel tries his best to focus his flaming eyes. “You drunk or something? Doesn’t matter, really . . . as long as you have money.”
A hooker. Nothing more than a hooker. Daniel almost laughs, but the sound that escapes his mouth is that of a whimper.
“Man, you must really be wasted,” the woman says, placing a hand on his forehead, and, feeling how hot it is, pulls away quickly. “Oh, man. You’re sick, aren’t you? Come on, I know a place you can crash for the night, buddy. They’ll take good care of ya.”
Daniel feels his arm being slung over her shoulders and the insistent tug that pulls him in the direction further down the alleyway. Suddenly, his senses spike.
Blood. He can smell it. Close, very close. So near that he can almost taste it in his mouth. He stops their forward motion, causing the girl to look at him in confusion. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as she releases him and backs against the wall.
“What the fuck are you, man?” she screeches, staring at his blood-red eyes and the two fangs that have grown from his teeth.
Daniel moans in agony, clutching his head as he falls towards the ground. Slowly, the girl steps forward, curious as to what might be happening to him.
“Hey . . . Buddy, are you-”
Before she can finish her sentence, the man lurches at her, shoving her against the rough, uneven bricks and sinking his teeth deep into the side of her neck. Her lips part in an attempt to scream, but her voice seems stuck within her throat.
She stands helplessly, her body becoming weaker and weaker as her life is sucked away. A meaningless life, really. One full of betrayal, endless one-night stands, beatings, and much more. Why shouldn’t it end?
Daniel slowly steps away from the now motionless body, watching as it crumples to the ground. His own body begins to shake in horror, his eyes wide with fear as he realizes what he has done . . . and what he has become.
No, no, no. It isn’t supposed to be this way. This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s supposed to be human. Human. God, what in the hell has happened?
No. No time to think of that now. There is something to do . . . Something he must finish. Without another glance at the lifeless body at his feet, he starts down the alley once again, his steps quickening as he realizes his new-found strength.
0 o 0 o 0
Blood has a distinct smell.
Metallic, almost bitter in your nose . . . but always detectable.
0 o 0 o 0
“So where do we go first?” Willow asks quietly of the silent group in Giles’s living room.
“We need to research the local ‘animal worshippers,’ ” Jack replies solidly. “You said there were some cult freaks that broke into the museum, right?”
“Yes,” Giles nods. “The fact that Bastet is a cat should narrow it down some . . . I think we may be able to find them tonight.”
“Get on that,” Jack orders, ignoring the glare he receives in return. “Carter . . . We’ll hold off on the troops for now, but if the situation gets out of hand, we make the call, got it?”
“Yes, Sir,” Sam replies dutifully.
“Alright,” Jack sighs, looking around the room at the pitiful excuse of a team he has been forced to work with. “Let’s get to work.”
0 o 0 o 0
This is it. This is the place where he has been trying to find his way to.
“Found it,” he smiles with a hysterical chuckle.
Stepping forward, he places a hand on the rusty door of the abandoned apartment complex. Upon entering, he finds a single robed figure standing in the center of the empty lobby, a small, lit candle sitting on the tiled floor before them.
“Daniel,” the figure says in a deep, unpleasant voice. The archaeologist cringes as the familiar accent echoes throughout the room, and he stares solemnly into the eyes that he has missed for so very long.
“Aaron,” he replies calmly, his blue eyes flashing with distant memories.
Chapter Fourteen:
Save me from the wandering days that pass so aching slow my heart can bear the moaning of its darkest depths no longer.
Save me from the gnarled hands that pull with a strength I can no longer fight against into the raging abyss from which there is no escape.
Save me from the nightmare that has come to life in such a dreary, gray world and dragged me from the echo that was once what we used to be.
Save me from my wildest fears that scratch the hope from my body and tear at the safety of my dreams where we were once guarded by a cocoon of warmth.
Save me from myself.
0 o 0 o 0
“Apartment!” the creature in Jack’s grasp screeches in agony as the colonel digs his fingers even more tightly into its windpipe. “Abandoned . . . Apartment . . . C-Complex.” It wheezes out the answer through a liquidy, blood spattered voice.
Jack drops what is left of the disgusting demon to the ground and turns to the others.
“You know where that is?” he demands harshly of the Sunnydale natives. The group hesitates, still staring at the remains of the rasping pile at his feet.
“Well?” he barks loudly, making them jump.
“Y-Yes,” Giles stutters, clearly wanting to avoid a confrontation. He is seriously regretting getting on this man’s bad side. “The complex is a few blocks away. That way.” He points.
“Let’s go,” Jack orders, stalking off towards the military jeep. The others follow cautiously, none wanting to disobey after what was just seen.
They had started at the local demon informant bar. Many demons were hell bent on protecting their own, but when the apocalypse was involved, they tended to save their own skins.
The first was very little help and, currently, a splatter on the bar wall, courtesy of the colonel. The second had been a dead end, and, ironically, had been slaughtered in one, also courtesy of our favorite colonel. Finally, the last that they had attempted to get information out of, and the most helpful; still alive, but most likely not for very long.
Giles does his best to keep up with the speeding vehicle ahead of him, wary of the other cars that line the streets at such a late hour. The colonel weaves dangerously through traffic, seemingly unaware of the others that honk and have to swerve so as not to be hit.
This colonel must really like Daniel, and Giles does not want to be the sorry soul that gets in his way when the younger man is in trouble.
0 o 0 o 0
“Danny,” the dark figure across the room sighs with contentment. “I knew it would be someone important, but you . . . this is such a surprise! We can reunite, you and I! It’ll be like old times.”
“Old times,” Daniel’s eyes glaze with memorable anger. “The old times are gone, Aaron. The old times were when we were a family. When you and me and Em lived happily ever after in such a dark and dreary place . . . When you were still alive.”
“But I am, Danny,” Aaron spreads his arms and twirls around, his long robe flaring in the process. “Look at me! So young, so strong. I can’t imagine why I didn’t turn in the first place.”
“Because we promised, Aaron,” the archaeologist says weakly, his body sagging in exhaustion from keeping his desires at bay. “We promised. We never wanted to see each other like this. Never like this, Aaron.”
“But you couldn’t do it,” the other man boasts proudly. “When push came to shove, you couldn’t kill me, could you? I was right there! I was screaming for you to do it! I begged and I sobbed and I pleaded . . . and you left me.”
“I-I know,” Daniel whispers, tears in his voice. “I know that we promised . . . but I could never hurt you, Aaron . . . Not even if you are what you are now.”
“Then come with me, Danny,” Aaron extends a hand in his direction. “Come with me, and together we will rule this pitiful world hand in hand, side by side. You and me, together forever.”
Daniel hesitates, his eyes searching the lifeless ones before him.
“Forever?” he questions, quivering where he stands.
“And always,” Aaron smiles warmly, slowly starting forward towards the younger man.
He reaches out, his fingers splayed as if willing him to take the offered hand. Daniel extends his own hand forward . . . driving the hidden sword behind him into the gut of his former lover with the other.
Chapter Fifteen:
The sound that emits from Aaron's lips is that between a laugh and a sob. It wrenches Daniel's stomach into a knot, causing bile to rise towards his throat, but he forces it at bay, keeping steady eye contact with the other . . . man, if you could even call him that anymore.
"A sword, Danny?" Aaron asks breathlessly, a smile spreading his lips widely in a sort of animated grin. "Is that all you came with?"
"No," Daniel shakes his head as the whisper escapes his tight throat. "I haven't the heart to use what else I brought with me, Aaron . . . I only pray you will forgive me when you die by my hand."
" 'Haven't the heart.' How sweet, Dannyboy. You always were the sentimental one," Aaron scoffs, grabbing hold of the blade penetrating his chest. "I forgive you for trying, Love, but only one of us will die tonight. And, well, since I didn't exactly make any plans to . . ."
As he trails off, his grip tightens upon the sword's blade. With a sharp, piercing shout of agony, he jerks it from his chest, blood spilling onto the ground and staining his shirt. Before Daniel has time to react, Aaron has the blade turned around, and a hot, wet pain invades his abdomen.
Staring into his former lover's cold and lifeless eyes, his eyebrows knit together in a look of innocent confusion. His chin slowly drops to his chest, and his fading, blue orbs rest upon the swords blade . . . submerged almost to the hilt into his stomach.
He takes a gasping breath and grabs Aaron's shoulder roughly as the blade is twisted, his eyes growing wide and his entire body trembling with exertion.
"Damn," Aaron winces with fake sympathy. "That must really hurt."
The young archaeologist tastes a metallic liquid pool into his mouth from his throat and feels it dribble past his lips like drool. His head, suddenly, becomes too heavy for his neck and it lolls forward, his only sight, now, three pairs of feet.
. . . Three?
0 o 0 o 0
He had told them to stay in the car. He had told them he would settle this on his own. He had ordered them. He had pleaded with them. He had begged them.
And still they would not listen.
Even threatening a court martial was of no use. They simply did not care about their careers as much as they did Daniel. And, in a way, that made Jack proud to call them his team. His own. His kids.
The Sunnydale group was also very difficult to deal with. Even with his most intimidating glare and loudest, most frightening voice, they refused to follow his orders.
'We're not some little militia that you can just boss around,' the blonde one had argued. What was her name? Barbie? Babby? Biffy? Whatever.
'This is our town,' she had said. 'And we intend to fight for it.'
Right.
It had seemed like a good plan. The more the merrier . . . but now, the colonel wishes he had left them all there. Tied them to the car. Knocked them out one by one. Hunted this damn thing on his own. Because now . . . now he and the others walk in upon a scene that makes Jack's insides turn ice cold.
He does not register his feet moving towards the pair in the center of the room. Only the metal object protruding from Daniel's back.
He does not realize his eyes are slowly dimming and a low, deep growl is emitting from his throat. Only the muffled gurgling noise that Daniel makes as the sword is wrenched sharply to the right.
He does not comprehend the look of amused surprise that the other man gives him as he comes to an abrupt halt next to them both. Only the fact that he is the one holding the handle.
He is the one causing Daniel this pain. He is the one that is responsible for all of the happenings that have transpired these past couple of days. He is the one that must pay.
Jack's hand comes up in a lightening speed, aiming to rip every muscle causing that grin to exist from the ugly, pale face before him. But weak, cold fingers grab his trembling hand before he can reach that disgusting smile.
The colonel's head whips around to Daniel, who stares at him with wide, pained eyes as he sways on his feet.
"Please . . . No, Jack," he gurgles through a voice of liquid. "I . . . I can t-take c-care of this."
"Danny," Jack shakes his head in disbelief, but Daniel only smiles that shy, innocent grin, raising his violently shaking fingers to the colonel's face and stroking his cheek, leaving a smear of crimson liquid in its wake.
"I got it, Jack," he whispers softly.
Aaron stares at the exchange curiously.
"So," he says, his tone sounding almost indignant, "this is the man you fuck now, is it? I wasn't good enough then? I can see he's the strong, military type. Didn't know you went for those, Dannyboy. You really are a fuck toy, aren't you?"
Jack's face turns a brilliant shade of angry red, his teeth clenching painfully.
"St-Stay out of this . . . Aaron," Daniel's quivering voice demands to no avail. Jack looks to him, eyebrows raised.
"This is Aaron?"
Daniel nods as he stares with loathing orbs into those lifeless eyes, truthfully uncaring of how Jack found out about him.
"So he's a . . ."
"A vampire," Daniel finishes weakly, his knees shaking but refusing to collapse. "J-Jack, please . . . Please go . . . I need to finish this . . . a-alone."
Daniel's watery blues turn to the colonel in a begging attempt to get him to leave.
"Not like this, Danny," Jack whispers, shaking his head as he once more glances at the sword still jutting from his abdomen. "No, I-"
"Is it this that bothers you?" Aaron gives the swords a small jiggle, causing Daniel to hiss in pain. "Oh, well, why didn't you say so! We can be rid of that if a jiffy!"
Before either of them can react, Aaron tears the blade from Daniel, causing the archaeologist to cry out and collapse into Jack's arms.
"There! All better!" Aaron smiles, licking Daniel's blood from the metal weapon as his eyes shine with bemusement. "See, Danny? We have so much fun together!"
"You son of a bitch!" Jack can only yell at the creature before him, afraid to move the younger man in his arms for fear of worsening his condition.
"Now, now, Jack," Aaron tilts his head as he uses the name he had heard Daniel say. "Let's be gentlemen about this. Obviously, he can't die. Otherwise I wouldn't have run him through, now would I?"
"What-" before Jack can finish, Daniel jerks in his arms, breaking into spasms of agony. His mouth opens in a silent scream as he writhes within the colonel's grasp.
"What'd you do to him?" Jack demands harshly, turning burning eyes onto the vampire.
Before anymore can be said, the archaeologist sits up and turns to Jack, long fangs glistening as he lunges towards the colonel. Jack has just enough time to grab Daniel's shoulders and hold him back, the sharp-edged teeth coming within centimeters of his neck.
"Holy shit!" he breathes as his stomach drops with the sense that he has lost Daniel once and for all this time. He notices the others starting towards them.
"Stay there!" he commands. They hesitate, but move no further. "Just . . . don't come any closer!" Daniel continues to strain against the colonel's hold, his eyes a blood red.
"As I said, Jack," Aaron smiles that strange, wide smile again. "He can't be killed . . . And he can't return to you. So I would suggest leaving him here with me . . . You can go as long as he stays. And in his current condition, I would take the offer."
Jack stares in disbelief at this Aaron character, then back at Daniel . . . or what used to be Daniel.
If the Daniel he knew is gone . . . then that means that this incantation that was supposed to prove they loved each other did not work, which means . . .
Jack's heart twists at the thought. But his mind is set.
He could never leave Daniel here. Never . . . Right?
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