Changing of the Guard

Changing of the Guard

a Stargate SG-1 AU

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate. This story is an unfinished WIP, placed in the Campfire Bunny Farm because I doubt I’ll ever actually write the rest of it. If someone else wants to adopt it, be my guest – just don’t forget where you got it, that’s all I ask.

Starting Premise: This story started out very political – I got the idea around 5 or 6 years ago, right after a presidential election. What would happen if a new Commander in Chief took over who had very definite ideas of his own about the Stargate program and the people in it? What if he decided to make some radical changes? And what if the agenda behind those changes was really, really bad? In the never-written opening to this story, certain personnel who might cause problems had been temporarily moved out of the SGC – Jack and Teal’c to meetings in Washington and Sam to consult on a project at Area 51. As soon as they were gone, General Hammond was replaced. When Daniel realized what was happening, and what it meant, he took a chance on escaping through the Stargate at the end of an unmanned MALP run, and from there made his way to Abydos.

What Part is This?: Part of the beginning and middle of the story.

Daniel didn’t dare turn from his headlong rush up the ramp when he heard the heavy pounding of booted feet behind him interspersed with the shattering clicks of weapons being readied. He ignored the deep, angry voice commanding him to stop, warning him, threatening. The rippling liquid surface of the wormhole drew nearer, promising the cool relief of escape. Almost there…

The voice barked a command—not at him—and more clicks were followed by ominous sharp barking whines. Fire, too warm and quick to be painful, tugged at his leg and pushed at his lower back, providing the impetus he needed to hurl himself through the Stargate. His last thought as his feet left the ramp was a silent farewell to General Hammond and the rest of SG1.

Jack O’Neill peered through a rent in the heavy curtain and watched the class progress with an unreadable expression. A dozen children of assorted sizes sat within the small room, fidgeting in the aftermath of their reading lesson as their teacher smilingly began a story. The soothing cadence of the man’s voice quickly settled even the most restless, and soon everyone—Jack included—was caught up in the tale.

A hand on his shoulder startled him, although no one who didn’t know him well could have interpreted his reaction that way. “Skaara.”

“You will not go in, O’Neill?” The young man kept his voice low, respecting the older man’s desire for secrecy without understanding it. “Are you certain?”

A nod, followed by a sigh. “I’m certain. After we’re finished…”

Skaara nodded his acceptance and pushed past the curtain alone. Jack faded into the corridor’s shadows briefly as he passed, then resumed his place beside the door. Through the torn cloth he watched the young man take up a position behind the listening children, waiting with a smile on his face. The story drew to a close soon after and the children were dismissed, some of the smaller ones darting forward to hug their teacher before racing out with their friends in a cloud of happy chatter. Jack pulled his hood down to conceal his face as they ran past, thankful that his presence drew no attention.

Skaara was still smiling. “Perhaps I should come to class as well, Dan-yer; the story you told was new to me.”

Daniel smiled up at him tiredly from his pile of cushions. “I’ll have to start telling stories after dinner again, then; it’s not only the children who need to learn their history. How goes the watch?”

“Boring,” the young man replied with a shrug. “We will continue to watch, but the Chappa’ai does not move and the skies are empty. Perhaps I should take you back with me so we will not be bored, et?”

“Neet,” Daniel replied, his blue eyes twinkling softly. “Then we would all be bored, and I would be sick from your cooking.” He sighed and pushed his blankets off to one side, holding out his hand. “Help me up?”

Jack watched as Skaara helped his friend out of bed and supported him into another curtained room, the soft murmur of their voices interspersed with involuntary grunts of pain. He shuddered, fists clenching in his robes, and took the opportunity to leave his hiding place and return to the main room, dropping to sit against the first convenient wall. A shadow fell across him. “You did not see him.”

“I saw him.”

Kasuf shook his head, not quite frowning. “He did not see you. Why will you not tell him you are here? My son would be pleased to see you, O’Neill.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jack snorted softly. He turned troubled brown eyes to the old man leaning over him. “As soon as we’re all done, then I’ll let him know I’m here. Okay?”

“It is your decision,” Kasuf replied. “I will not tell Dan-yer unless I believe he is worrying; I will not allow my son to become ill again because of your fear.”

O’Neill winced. “Understood.”

“Neet,” the old man said gently, shaking his head again. “If you understood my son’s heart, you would be at his side—not hiding for fear he will ask you to leave.” Then he sighed and motioned for Jack to stand up. “Come; you will do Skaara’s work this night if you will not do your own. The mastdage pens are in need of cleaning…”

“O-kay,” Jack muttered petulantly as he climbed back to his feet; Kasuf had a way of making him feel like a disobedient teenager instead of a forty-something Air Force colonel. “What’s Skaara going to do, then?”

The Abydonian elder’s expression was stern but not unkind as he drove his point home. “He is with Dan-yer.”

One week later…

Kasuf may have been right, Jack decided.

He’d been sitting here on the sandy floor for an hour, watching his friend sleep. Daniel’s peaceful, too-thin face gave him no clues as to what his reception was going to be, and every time he twitched in his sleep Jack’s stomach tied another knot in itself. Putting off talking to him seemed like such a good idea at the time, he thought bitterly. But now I have to explain why I waited…

And that was just the problem. He couldn’t.

He’d been on Abydos for nearly two weeks now; Daniel had been here for twenty-five days, six of those spent hovering between life and death, four more on wondering between waves of pain if he would ever walk again, and the rest patiently tolerating his weakened body’s slow progress toward recovery. The Abydonians told Jack when he arrived on the twelfth day of the ordeal that Daniel had cried out repeatedly for his friends while he was delirious but had not spoken of them since, responding to anyone else’s mention of his former life only with a grim warning to keep a vigilant armed watch on the Chappa’ai at all times. His sleep was disrupted by nightmares he would not describe, even to Skaara. Kasuf and Jack had managed to put together the pieces of the story they both possessed to form a horrifying picture of what must have happened, and that was when Jack had decided unilaterally that his former teammate should not be told that anyone had found him. He should get stronger first, was Jack’s original excuse.

Then, I’ll tell him when we’re finished.

And finally, Once I’m settled in. Kasuf had called him on that one, and here he was. Trying desperately to figure out what to say to the man he’d let down with near-fatal results. Wondering if Daniel blamed him for not being there to protect him. Fighting the fear that his best friend might just hate him now.

A small groan as the man in question shifted his weight told him he was about to find out, and Jack tensed. Long eyelashes fluttered and then slowly drew back from sleep-dulled blue eyes that blinked at him, squinting through imperfect vision to see…

Daniel jerked upright and away, what little color there was draining out of his face, hissing in pain as his body protested the less-than-cautious movement. His eyes were wide with horror. “You’re…you’re here,” he whispered. “Oh god no…”

“Good to see you, too, Dr. Jackson,” Jack sighed, taking refuge in familiar sarcasm. “I’m guessing you didn’t miss me?”

Daniel shook his head, but not in response to the barely-registered comment; he was trying desperately to put a safe distance between himself and Jack. “Why…why did you come?” he gasped. “Couldn’t you have told them I wasn’t here…that you couldn’t find me?”

Jack was confused; this was not the reaction he’d expected. “Them?”

A weak snort. “You let me go once before; why couldn’t you do it again, Jack?” His back was against the wall now; he let it hold him up, bracing himself for the inevitable. His eyes were rapidly filling with tears. “Do you really think I’m such a danger to the program that you had to hunt me down? I just wanted to come home!”

“You wanted…” Jack’s mouth dropped open, understanding dropping on him like a cartoon anvil. Oh god, I screwed this up so bad. Kasuf was right… “No, Danny, it isn’t like that! I’m not here to take you back…” That produced another gasp and an obvious attempt to back through a stone wall; Jack smacked himself in the forehead. “God damn it, that’s not what I meant either!” He took a deep breath and tried to think calm. “Danny, I came here to find you…not to take you back, not to…geesh! Just to find you, okay? Make sure you’re all right, that kind of thing.” He slowly put out his hand, flinching in spite of himself when his friend cringed, feeling tears sting his own eyes. “Oh hell, Danny, I’m so sorry. We had no idea what was happening until it was too late.”

“Y-you’re not here t-to…”

“No! God no, how could you even think that? Of course not!” Jack suddenly found himself holding an armload of sobbing, trembling archaeologist. He stroked the younger man’s hair comfortingly, holding on as tightly as he dared. “Oh Danny, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, Jack,” a shaky voice breathed against his shoulder. “I should have realized…”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Jack said soothingly. “It’s okay. Everything is okay now.”

A sniff. “The others?”

“Safe. Sam, Janet and Cassie with the Tokra, Teal’c in the Land of Light, you and I here on Abydos.” He took a deep breath. “And Skaara’s boys and I sealed your Chappa’ai for good. You’re safe, Danny; the SGC can never bother you again.”

Daniel pulled away from him slowly, wincing, and just stared. “You sealed it? But how will you…”

“I won’t.” Jack allowed himself a small smile. “I’m home now too—if that’s all right with you.”

A blink, followed by a tired smile; then Daniel dropped back into his cushions and shut his eyes. “Okay by me, Jack. I should warn you , though; Kasuf will put you right to work doing chores right away.”

“Already has,” Jack confessed, clearing his throat. “Um, Daniel, I’ve…been here for a while.”

The eyes opened, slightly narrowed with pain. “How long is a while?”

Jack hesitated. “Two weeks?”

Daniel looked surprised, then shrugged and shut his eyes again, too tired to ask for an explanation. “Did he make you clean the mastdage pens?”

“More than once.”

The archaeologist nodded. “Yep, you pissed him off, all right. What does he have you doing now?”

Another hesitation, this one long enough to make Daniel open his eyes again. “Um, taking care of you.”

To Jack’s surprise, Daniel chuckled. “Oh, Father is not happy with you, is he?” He shifted and winced again. “Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to get you back on his good side. If you’ll hand me a cup of that tea over there I’ll start on him at dinner.”

Jack spotted the tea and poured out a clay cupful of it, sniffing it with evident distaste. “This medicine?”

“Painkiller,” Daniel corrected, shoving himself up painfully on his elbow to take the cup. “Tastes like shit, but I love the results.” A strong arm slipped around his shoulders, supporting him, and Daniel gratefully leaned some of his weight onto it. “Thanks, Jack.”