![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
magickmoons.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Apocalypse As Usual
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Prompt: 341 - Mouse
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack and Daniel are both having trouble adjusting after months alone.
Notes: follow up to After the End
Jack stared at the moonlit trees through the window. The flakes from earlier had turned into a heavy snow and everything he could see was silver, white, shining, a stark contrast to the golden red firelight coming from the hearth. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, his body too jarred by the sudden warmth and comfort, his mind too preoccupied.
Jack had rigorously avoided thinking about the possibility of finding any of his team again, much less Daniel. But if he had thought about how he expected their reunion to go, this wasn’t what he would have pictured. There was no desperate embrace, no thank god you made its. Just a reserved nod, a practical assessment, and apocalypse as usual.
Daniel had tended to his arm, methodically cleaning and dressing the wound. His careful lack of reaction told Jack more about how bad it was than anything he could have said. Afterward, Jack sat on the couch, slowly sipping some water and watching as Daniel returned to the porch to retrieve a skinned rabbit and set it roasting over the fire.
Once that was set, Daniel disappeared behind a panel of hanging fabric and plastic sheeting that separated this room from the bedroom hallway. He shuffled back into view a few minutes later, dragging the mattress from the master bed.
“You can sleep on this, but you’ll have to sleep out here. It’s the only room I’ve been keeping warmed.” He toed the table back a few inches to allow the mattress to lay flat. Jack wondered why Daniel hadn’t brought it out for himself earlier. "I've been sleeping on the couch since I got here. It didn't feel right...”
Daniel stopped himself, an agonized expression crossing his face as four months of pent-up fear, pain, and grief crashed down on him all at once. Jack stood and reached a hand out, his need to comfort Daniel as strong as his own to desire to be comforted. In an instant, Daniel’s expression shuttered and he stepped away, turning instead to check on the fire.
Jack hadn’t tried to go there again.
He did catch Daniel staring though, like his brain couldn't believe what it was seeing. Jack knew long solitude, the tricks the brain could play when you were pushed beyond your limits. He wondered what Daniel had seen, imagined, how long he had been alone. He hadn't even tried to bring up the SGC, or more specifically SG1. Daniel wouldn't answer and Jack was too tired to deal with what he was sure to hear. The morning would be soon enough.
A persistent sound caught Jack’s attention. At first he thought it was a wild animal out on the porch, but it was coming from inside. Maybe a mouse, he thought, and made a mental note to check for mouse droppings once it was light. But the more he listened, the less it sounded like an animal.
He sat up quietly and focused and soon realized that it was Daniel. He was asleep, facing the back of the couch. HIs hand was pushing against the couch, occasionally trying to ball into a fist, his nails dragging against the rough fabric.
Jack moved so that he was sitting against the leg of the couch. He dragged the blanket over his body with his good arm before reaching up to rest his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. A shudder ran through Daniel, then slowly, he pulled his hand back to rest against his chest. “Jack,” he murmured, sleepily, and burrowed back down into the pillow.
No, this wasn’t how he had imagined it. But there was hope.
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Prompt: 341 - Mouse
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack and Daniel are both having trouble adjusting after months alone.
Notes: follow up to After the End
Jack stared at the moonlit trees through the window. The flakes from earlier had turned into a heavy snow and everything he could see was silver, white, shining, a stark contrast to the golden red firelight coming from the hearth. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, his body too jarred by the sudden warmth and comfort, his mind too preoccupied.
Jack had rigorously avoided thinking about the possibility of finding any of his team again, much less Daniel. But if he had thought about how he expected their reunion to go, this wasn’t what he would have pictured. There was no desperate embrace, no thank god you made its. Just a reserved nod, a practical assessment, and apocalypse as usual.
Daniel had tended to his arm, methodically cleaning and dressing the wound. His careful lack of reaction told Jack more about how bad it was than anything he could have said. Afterward, Jack sat on the couch, slowly sipping some water and watching as Daniel returned to the porch to retrieve a skinned rabbit and set it roasting over the fire.
Once that was set, Daniel disappeared behind a panel of hanging fabric and plastic sheeting that separated this room from the bedroom hallway. He shuffled back into view a few minutes later, dragging the mattress from the master bed.
“You can sleep on this, but you’ll have to sleep out here. It’s the only room I’ve been keeping warmed.” He toed the table back a few inches to allow the mattress to lay flat. Jack wondered why Daniel hadn’t brought it out for himself earlier. "I've been sleeping on the couch since I got here. It didn't feel right...”
Daniel stopped himself, an agonized expression crossing his face as four months of pent-up fear, pain, and grief crashed down on him all at once. Jack stood and reached a hand out, his need to comfort Daniel as strong as his own to desire to be comforted. In an instant, Daniel’s expression shuttered and he stepped away, turning instead to check on the fire.
Jack hadn’t tried to go there again.
He did catch Daniel staring though, like his brain couldn't believe what it was seeing. Jack knew long solitude, the tricks the brain could play when you were pushed beyond your limits. He wondered what Daniel had seen, imagined, how long he had been alone. He hadn't even tried to bring up the SGC, or more specifically SG1. Daniel wouldn't answer and Jack was too tired to deal with what he was sure to hear. The morning would be soon enough.
A persistent sound caught Jack’s attention. At first he thought it was a wild animal out on the porch, but it was coming from inside. Maybe a mouse, he thought, and made a mental note to check for mouse droppings once it was light. But the more he listened, the less it sounded like an animal.
He sat up quietly and focused and soon realized that it was Daniel. He was asleep, facing the back of the couch. HIs hand was pushing against the couch, occasionally trying to ball into a fist, his nails dragging against the rough fabric.
Jack moved so that he was sitting against the leg of the couch. He dragged the blanket over his body with his good arm before reaching up to rest his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. A shudder ran through Daniel, then slowly, he pulled his hand back to rest against his chest. “Jack,” he murmured, sleepily, and burrowed back down into the pillow.
No, this wasn’t how he had imagined it. But there was hope.
