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Title: “Not By Halves”
Author: [personal profile] marzipan77
Fandom: SG-1
Pairing: Jack and Daniel friendship
Rated: T+ for memories of canon character death, torture
Summary: Set immediately after Abyss.
Warnings: Angst/Emotional Whump/Memories of Death
Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate, or Jack, or Daniel, or anything but my cats.
Written for the Thon for Sid, in memory of true friendship



When Jack opened his eyes, a dark figure stood in the infirmary doorway, backlit by the bright hall beyond. Even now, even with his skin crawling, his head pounding, reality and memory and weird-ass fantasy overlapping in his over-sarcophagused mind, he couldn’t mistake that silhouette. “T-“

“O’Neill.”

Okay. That didn’t sound right. Jack squirmed against the too-crinkly white sheets. “’s up, Teal’c?”

The broad shoulders squeezed through the door, muscles bunching and unbunching like some kind of zoom-focus on a camera. Or maybe that was just Jack.

“I would confess something to you, O’Neill.”

Uh-oh. “Not a priest, Teal’c.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Not even an altar boy.”

“No, you are not.”

“’s long as we’re clear.” No. Jack wasn’t clear. Ba’al had put the screws to him something awful. Good thing Danny was there … wait … Jack turned, squinting into the shadows that gathered around his bed. “Dan-“

“O’Neill?”

Teal’c. Right. Focus, O’Neill.

Teal’c was leaning in, looming. Loooooooming. Quite a loomer, their Teal’c.

“Did you speak of Daniel Jackson?”

Whoa. Loud. “Ya gotta work on your whisper,” Jack hissed through clenched teeth, the gong inside his head thumping.

Teal’c blinked. “It was Daniel Jackson who spoke to me, O’Neill. Who sent me to find you.”

“Oh yeah? That’s nice.” Somebody in white was flitting around in the background. Frasier. Or another minion. As long as they kept that penlight holstered, he was good with it. Especially when something warm and heavy swept through his veins. “Niiiiice.”

When he blinked his eyes open again, Teal’c’s eyebrow was on the rise.

“Perhaps I will return when you are feeling better, O’Neill.”

“’Kay.” Jack twizzled his fingers ‘good-bye.’ Twizzled? Finkled? He did it again, just to be sure. “Tell Danny I said thanks.”

“Should I see him I will do so.”
When he looked again, big shoulders was gone and he was alone. Jack pushed his lips together, making a smacking sound. Alone. Didn’t like that. He shivered. Alone meant thinking. Remembering. Remembering badness. Hurt. Sadness. He tapped his fingers restlessly against the mattress.

“Hey. It’s okay.” A cool hand pressed against his fingers. Long fingers. With different calluses than Jack’s.

“Where’d you go?”

Daniel’s smile was nice. Kind. “I’ve been here, Jack. I’ll be here. Whenever you need me.”

Jack sighed. “Promise?”

The smile went away, but the eyes … those eyes. Jack knew those eyes. Serious. Honest. Sure, right down to his toes.

“Did you ever read Jane Austen, Jack?”

That was funny. Funny. “Girly books.”

“Yes, Jack, I like girly books, too.”

Jack snickered.

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest.

Oops. Don’t make Danny mad. “Sorry.”

Daniel’s smile came back. “Listen, Jack. Ms. Austen wrote something once. About friendship.” He perched his hip beside Jack’s on the narrow infirmary bed. “I want you to remember this, Jack. Even when your memory of Ba’al fades. Even when you convince yourself that I was never there. Just a hallucination. A dream. I want you to remember this.” He leaned forward and laid two fingers against Jack’s forehead, the cool touch drawing away the pain, the stuffiness, the weird rainbow colored blurs.

Jack jerked his head forward, really awake for the first time in … in too long. “Danny?”

“Remember this, Jack. Remember.”

Two weeks later, Jack found himself in his basement, pulling open the tape on some cardboard boxes. Looking for something. Not sure what it was. But sure he’d know it when he found it.

“Aha.” He lifted out a book among the few he’d kept, the few he had brought home from Daniel’s office after … Just after. Northanger Abbey. He flipped through the pages, found the quote immediately, slid his finger across the page as his best friend’s voice filled the air.

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

Blinking away tears he would deny later, Jack raised his face to the unseen sky. “Thanks, Danny.”
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