Alpha-bits - L - Laira, leaving, loss, longing
For GenFic Day
L - Laira, leaving, loss, longing
warnings: language, spoilers for A Hundred Days
They set out from the village--it was a hike to the 'gate now, long and dusty. But at least the Stargate was upright, and they were leaving power since the DHD was scattered to hell and gone.
Jack didn't look back. He'd said his 'fair days', after Laira had said it to him. Carter had moved ahead. Teal'c was with her, matching strides. Daniel slowed his step, almost looked like he had their six; Daniel was also being careful not to look Jack's way, and Jack wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about anything.
Pissed maybe. Excited. Wanting to go and stay, and why the hell was he leaving? Except he had a duty, he had a life. And it wasn't here.
It was like no time away from his team, and like about a lifetime. He'd made a new life, or he thought he'd been doing that, but he was walking from it as if he hadn't been. He'd had no hesitation about that. So did that make him an idiot?
Then Daniel asked, "She wouldn't leave?"
Jack slanted a glance over, because, what the hell--Daniel had telepathy now? And he let out a breath because he'd forgotten just what Daniel noticed when Daniel was paying attention.
"Couldn't," he said, and didn't want to say more.
Daniel gave a nod, one of his knowing ones that said of course, and his head tipped and that left about a dozen possibilities in there.
That irritated Jack--and he smiled. God, he'd missed this. Then he frowned because he was also going to miss the fishing. He wasn't going to miss the homespun, and he glanced down at them, thought how they itched, and how he wished someone would hand him a damn gun--and how he didn't want that either. That would take him home all too fast.
The 'gate was in sight, at the end of the road. The Edorans had been left to their reunions. Jack was glad he didn't have to see that. It would have left him feeling the outsider he'd become again. But he glanced at Daniel's radio, waved one hand at it.
"She was going to toss it today--I told her to. I was done."
Daniel's head dropped and he frowned, but it wasn't one of the tight thinky ones; his eyes had gone vague and distant, and Jack wanted to reach out and tap him with the back of his hand to bring him back. And then he wanted pockets to shove his hands into. He hadn't known how to reinvent the damn pocket.
Daniel put his stare on the Stargate. He was smiling now, just a curve of his lips. "You're never done. Laira's smart enough to know that."
"Oh?"
"She didn't toss anything, did she? She said no about leaving." Daniel's stare slipped over then, with his eyes narrowed against the bright sun. "It's never easy knowing where you belong. But she knows."
Jack heard it then--that wistful undertone, that thread of what he was feeling. Longing. Loss. The echo of someone who knew what it was like a little too well to always be the one to have to be doing the leaving.
Now he had no trouble knowing what to do with his hands. He grabbed the back of Daniel's neck, had bare, warm skin and the short hairs under his fingers. He shook once, finally let go after he'd had the tension under his grip ease and felt muscle soften.
"Who the hell ever said anything's supposed to be easy?" And he thought of the easy life he was leaving--early up to chop wood, and up late to bank fires, and between you dug food out of the ground or went hunting for it. But you didn't duck enemy fire, didn't have buttons to press to launch bombs, didn't have paperwork to file after someone died.
He thought of the family he might have had here--then he looked ahead to the family taking him home; he lost one to get the other.
Giving a nod to Daniel, and a sharp elbow, he said, "Dial us home, Daniel."
He watched Daniel glance at him--eyes clear, a fraction of a hesitation, and then the nod firm. And Carter glanced back. Teal'c looked like he was going to dine out on being the hero for about a month. Jack smiled. And he stepped through the 'gate, already planning the face he'd put on as he put the last hundred days behind. He'd always been better at looking to the horizon.
L - Laira, leaving, loss, longing
warnings: language, spoilers for A Hundred Days
They set out from the village--it was a hike to the 'gate now, long and dusty. But at least the Stargate was upright, and they were leaving power since the DHD was scattered to hell and gone.
Jack didn't look back. He'd said his 'fair days', after Laira had said it to him. Carter had moved ahead. Teal'c was with her, matching strides. Daniel slowed his step, almost looked like he had their six; Daniel was also being careful not to look Jack's way, and Jack wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He wasn't sure how he felt about anything.
Pissed maybe. Excited. Wanting to go and stay, and why the hell was he leaving? Except he had a duty, he had a life. And it wasn't here.
It was like no time away from his team, and like about a lifetime. He'd made a new life, or he thought he'd been doing that, but he was walking from it as if he hadn't been. He'd had no hesitation about that. So did that make him an idiot?
Then Daniel asked, "She wouldn't leave?"
Jack slanted a glance over, because, what the hell--Daniel had telepathy now? And he let out a breath because he'd forgotten just what Daniel noticed when Daniel was paying attention.
"Couldn't," he said, and didn't want to say more.
Daniel gave a nod, one of his knowing ones that said of course, and his head tipped and that left about a dozen possibilities in there.
That irritated Jack--and he smiled. God, he'd missed this. Then he frowned because he was also going to miss the fishing. He wasn't going to miss the homespun, and he glanced down at them, thought how they itched, and how he wished someone would hand him a damn gun--and how he didn't want that either. That would take him home all too fast.
The 'gate was in sight, at the end of the road. The Edorans had been left to their reunions. Jack was glad he didn't have to see that. It would have left him feeling the outsider he'd become again. But he glanced at Daniel's radio, waved one hand at it.
"She was going to toss it today--I told her to. I was done."
Daniel's head dropped and he frowned, but it wasn't one of the tight thinky ones; his eyes had gone vague and distant, and Jack wanted to reach out and tap him with the back of his hand to bring him back. And then he wanted pockets to shove his hands into. He hadn't known how to reinvent the damn pocket.
Daniel put his stare on the Stargate. He was smiling now, just a curve of his lips. "You're never done. Laira's smart enough to know that."
"Oh?"
"She didn't toss anything, did she? She said no about leaving." Daniel's stare slipped over then, with his eyes narrowed against the bright sun. "It's never easy knowing where you belong. But she knows."
Jack heard it then--that wistful undertone, that thread of what he was feeling. Longing. Loss. The echo of someone who knew what it was like a little too well to always be the one to have to be doing the leaving.
Now he had no trouble knowing what to do with his hands. He grabbed the back of Daniel's neck, had bare, warm skin and the short hairs under his fingers. He shook once, finally let go after he'd had the tension under his grip ease and felt muscle soften.
"Who the hell ever said anything's supposed to be easy?" And he thought of the easy life he was leaving--early up to chop wood, and up late to bank fires, and between you dug food out of the ground or went hunting for it. But you didn't duck enemy fire, didn't have buttons to press to launch bombs, didn't have paperwork to file after someone died.
He thought of the family he might have had here--then he looked ahead to the family taking him home; he lost one to get the other.
Giving a nod to Daniel, and a sharp elbow, he said, "Dial us home, Daniel."
He watched Daniel glance at him--eyes clear, a fraction of a hesitation, and then the nod firm. And Carter glanced back. Teal'c looked like he was going to dine out on being the hero for about a month. Jack smiled. And he stepped through the 'gate, already planning the face he'd put on as he put the last hundred days behind. He'd always been better at looking to the horizon.