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In the last twenty-four hours I've been working on a new Stargate fic, which, rather deceptively, begins like this:
After the first mission to Abydos, when Daniel had been dead to his own world, Jack had gone down to the holding cell Daniel had been sleeping in, on those rare occasions when he slept, and gathered up his belongings. He’d packed it all into boxes with the fastidiousness of a man who’d spent his entire adult life in uniform, neatly rinsing and bagging the toothbrush and paste, folding the non-regulation blankets tangled on the bunk, carefully rolling the few dress clothes so they wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. Daniel’s will, made out on a photocopied form they’d handed him, had named Jack as executor and beneficiary both, mainly because Jack had been the one responsible for making sure he got his paperwork in order, and so had been standing over him in a uniform with a nametag on it. O’Neill, with two L’s. Jack had taken the boxes home, after, and put them in his garage, and never told anyone that he was saving all that stuff in case Daniel ever wanted it again.
Daniel knew all this because when he finally did have to come back to his home world (home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in) Jack had taken Daniel back to his place, given him a beer and a bed and in the morning gave him the tattered remnants of his former life, all neat in labeled boxes.
After the first mission to Abydos, when Daniel had been dead to his own world, Jack had gone down to the holding cell Daniel had been sleeping in, on those rare occasions when he slept, and gathered up his belongings. He’d packed it all into boxes with the fastidiousness of a man who’d spent his entire adult life in uniform, neatly rinsing and bagging the toothbrush and paste, folding the non-regulation blankets tangled on the bunk, carefully rolling the few dress clothes so they wouldn’t wrinkle too badly. Daniel’s will, made out on a photocopied form they’d handed him, had named Jack as executor and beneficiary both, mainly because Jack had been the one responsible for making sure he got his paperwork in order, and so had been standing over him in a uniform with a nametag on it. O’Neill, with two L’s. Jack had taken the boxes home, after, and put them in his garage, and never told anyone that he was saving all that stuff in case Daniel ever wanted it again.
Daniel knew all this because when he finally did have to come back to his home world (home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in) Jack had taken Daniel back to his place, given him a beer and a bed and in the morning gave him the tattered remnants of his former life, all neat in labeled boxes.