...secrets of sorrow and anger...
....."Forgive me..."
Daniel sat on the sofa in his office, Shau're's words repeating in his head, just as the rest of his conversations with her did. Only those words were filled with so much sorrow, words he'd never wanted to hear come from her. Hadn't he already told her? "There's nothing to forgive."
Daniel bent over, his head in his hands, his fingers clutched in his hair, trying to get rid of the memory of those words uttered a few days earlier. They'd invade his mind when he wasn't expecting them and he wasn't able to concentrate on much afterward. Like now.
These latest tragic events were bad. Not just for him, either. Jack's despondency over the death of the reporter, Armand, had Daniel wishing for some way to help him, help them both. But he was at a loss.
He was also angry: very angry.
He tried to hold onto that anger, too, because the moment he let go, he knew he'd fall apart and cry until his heart burst. Logically, or rather, psychologically, he knew he needed to grieve, to let it out; but his old nemesis, fear, kept him angry instead. He and Jack had hardly spoken since they'd returned from Abydos and Daniel knew they'd both need time to process...but couldn't they do that together?
No, he supposed not. Everyone knew that the reporter had likely been killed by the NID. The fucking NID. They hadn't needed to do that. There were other ways. There were always other ways.
Daniel knew that Jack illogically blamed himself for Armand's death, too, and he just wished he could do something to help him. It hadn't helped that Hammond had denied responsibility for the reporter's death. He had made the report, after all; had issued the orders for Jack to find out how much Armand did in fact know...and then smack! The reporter was killed by a so-called hit and run. All Hammond had told him, from what little Jack had said, was that it wasn't their fault. "We didn't do this."
"No, sir," was all Jack had replied.
Jack's anger was just as all-consuming as his own and Daniel supposed that was another reason they weren't spending this time together. Anger had a tendency to make one lash out and Daniel knew that was why Jack was staying away from him. He didn't want to take it out on him. His current pre-occupation with trying to help Jack was offering some comfort. He wasn't thinking of Shau're. How she'd had to endure a pregnancy that was, for all intents and purposes, a rape. She hadn't even told her father...but why the fuck didn't Kasuf know? Why the hell had he acted as if things were just fine? And why...WHY...did they uncover the stone from the gate early?
Daniel gave a disgusted, derisive snort, got up and began to pace.
Fucking Kasuf! The man wasn't that damn stupid! How could he have acted so...normal...when he came through the gate? Why did he have to greet Daniel as if it were Daniel's fault Shau're had come home alone...and pregnant? Why hadn't he asked her, the stupid bastard?
The anger welled up in Daniel as he blamed Kasuf for things he really couldn't have known or done anything about. Daniel started to calm a moment, knowing full well that when Shau're didn't want to talk, no one could make her. And her shame prevented her from talking, didn't it?
Daniel felt the tears well up and he sniffed angrily, shoving them back. His eyes were hot, his head pounding. The yo-yoing between growing rage and all-consuming grief was taking over his mind. For once, he didn't care. He wanted to wallow in it for a while, feed off it. He knew that he didn't know how to deal with this; it had been different when Shau're was taken...but that was then, this was now, and now was worse. The thought that he couldn't break out of his grief and anger scared the shit out of him. That fact pissed him off even more. The thoughts seemed to grow and the more he paced, the worse it became. He was going to break, he was sure of it. And yet, he didn't care. For once, he really was glad that Jack wasn't there to help him.
Jack sat in the chair in his office, going over and over what had happened. His years of experience told him that what had happened was a likely scenario. A man's life for a secret. A fucking secret. Hammond's denial had only made it worse. No, his C.O. hadn't had anything to do with the killing, but it was guilt by association.
If Jack hadn't done his job, his duty, and hadn't such a high honor about doing his job, his duty, he would have remembered that Armand was in danger. He could have warned him.
Jack's logical side told him to stop that thinking way right damn now. Hadn't Armand told him he'd been in the 'game' a long time?
Well, if that were true, if he truly was experienced about these things, wouldn't he have known his life was in danger? When a flag went up in front of someone's face that said "for reasons of National Security", common sense dictated discretion and self-preservation, none of which Armand seemed to have. So was he that cavalier about his own safety, or was he actually so naïve as to think that he was above being killed to protect a secret?
Jack shook his head. Blaming Armand for his own death was stupid, but part of the blame rested with him anyway. Not a big part, but a part nonetheless. Jack couldn't help but put a larger part of the blame on himself. He should have known that killing Armand would have been an option.
He also realized right then that that was it. It would have already been considered. He knew that he and Armand were being monitored and when Jack hadn't done his best to discourage the man, whoever it was that had been watching took control of the situation...permanently. It wouldn't have been Hammond's fault, even peripherally. Hammond's call wouldn't have alerted those folks because they'd have already known. Armand's investigation would have already thrown up red flags. The NID or the NSA would have known and would have had him investigated and tracked.
But did they have to kill him? They could have devised some sort of disinformation to discredit him. That would have been much easier...and more in keeping with the NID. A murder was too high profile...which meant that someone else had probably done this. A rogue department within the agency perhaps. The car speeding out from nowhere wasn't a coincidence. Whoever did it, didn't give a shit about subtlety. The NID weren't exactly subtle sometimes, but they were neat and efficient and what had happened was sloppy.
After thinking it out, the anger dissipated, though the sorrow for the man's death remained. Jack knew that he had to keep his eye on things. If these people were able to do this and not get caught, there was a lot more that they could get away with. Perhaps they were sending him and Hammond a message? That they were everywhere and could do anything.
Knowing those thoughts were futile for the time being, Jack dismissed them and let his mind focus on Daniel...and his own grief for him. When Daniel had told him, in the infirmary, what had happened, Jack couldn't believe how...normal...Daniel had been acting. How calm he'd seemed to be.
Jack's anger reasserted itself and was now aimed directly at the Goa'uld...where it ended up most of the time. How could they have done this to his best friend, to Shau're? How was Daniel going to cope with this? How? Jack didn't know but he knew he had to get out of his own rut and help his friend and lover. The thought of something yet again coming down to land on Daniel's head threatened to break Jack's anger loose again...the only thing that prevented it was knowing that it wasn't what Daniel needed.
What Daniel needed.
Oh God.
Jack bounded out of his chair with sudden intuitive dread and ran down the corridor for the elevator.
Daniel grabbed the nearest breakable object and hurled it at the bookshelf, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
It didn't belong to the SGC; it was his, so why shouldn't he break it?
He picked up another object, a piece of pottery, and treated it as if it were a pitcher's fastball. It smashed against the bookshelf, tiny remnants flying in every direction, including hitting his clothes and bouncing off his forehead. Another object was hurled, and with it, every curse word he could think of and in as many languages as he could remember, including those he didn't speak fully. Funny how one picked up on a few curse words before ever learning a foreign language.
"Cocksucking motherfucking sonofabitch!" he spewed in English as another item smashed against the bookcase. The tears threatened to break free, but Daniel held them back and focused on the anger and rage. He'd break every fucking thing in his office, if necessary, if it would only help him get rid of this anger...and Shau're's guilt-ridden words.
Just as Jack raced around the corner for Daniel's office, he found Sam and Teal'c already there, worry and alarm written on their faces while Sam repeatedly swiped her card through the access port without success. A few SFs stood just off to the side, looking ready to arrest someone. Jack wanted to hit them...but knew they were just doing their job...which almost irritated Jack more. He waved them off.
"It's alright, fellas. I'll take care of this."
"Yes, sir." They were unwilling to leave, but at Jack's scowl, they did.
"Sir, we were coming to see how he was doing and heard the commotion inside," Sam told him. "I tried to open his door but he's over-ridden the lock."
Jack nodded. "It's alright, Carter. I'll handle it. I know what's wrong."
"Shau're," both Sam and Teal'c said softly.
Jack nodded.
"Do you wish assistance?" Teal'c asked.
Jack shook his head then. "No, I think I should be the one to handle this. I'll calm him down, take him home. Carter, do me a favor and tell Hammond we're leaving early for the day."
"Yes, sir. Good luck, and...give him a hug for me."
"And me as well," Teal'c added.
Jack gave them a small grin. "I'll do that. Now..." and he motioned them to move away, which they did...reluctantly. Jack slid his card through, punched a long series of numbers, then slid his card through again. The green light appeared. He looked over at his teammates. "I'm locking this on the inside, to keep this private."
"Yes, sir," Sam replied, with Teal'c nodding in understanding, then they both walked slowly down the corridor to the elevator, repeatedly looking back.
Jack opened the door just as another object, Daniel's coffee carafe, smashed into fragments and splinters of glass. He winced, then shut the door and locked it, using the same over-ride code he knew that Daniel had used.
"Danny, stop..." Jack said softly as he went to him, taking him by the shoulders and making Daniel look at him.
"I can't..." Daniel said and tried to pull from Jack's grasp. Jack noticed that Daniel's glasses weren't on his face and he looked around without letting Daniel go, finding with relief that they were on the desk.
"Jack, let me go," Daniel said, gritting his teeth as he tried to twist away.
"No," Jack replied. "I shouldn't have stayed away. I'm sorry. We're going home."
"No...I...no...."
Daniel didn't know what he wanted to do. His anger was all that filled his mind and all he wanted to do was hear the breaking, the smashing...the symbols of his heart and his pain.
"Yes, home. So you can let go."
"No...I'll...no."
"Yes, Daniel!" Jack said, his voice rising slightly as he tugged on Daniel's sleeve, thanking God that Daniel was letting himself be tugged, when Daniel suddenly seemed to withdraw.
Crap.
Jack was worried. Daniel had allowed him to get his things, to skip the locker room and take him straight home...to his house. Not once did he object. In fact, Daniel was doing his shut down routine which worried Jack more than the angry hurling of objects.
Jack poured them each a glass of JackDaniel's and handed one to Daniel, who simply stared at it before taking a hesitant sip. The glass began to shake as his fingers whitened around it. Jack saw the look, recognized the reaction, and knew it was the anger threatening to release again.
"Oh no you don't," he said, taking the glass before Daniel could hurl it or break it in his hand. He wrapped his long arms around Daniel, holding him tightly.
"Jack, let me go," Daniel said, his jaw clenching, his voice strained but soft.
"Not gonna happen, Daniel. It's time to let go of the anger...at least a little of it."
"Fuck you, Jack!" Daniel suddenly spat, using all of his strength to try and get away but Jack had expected it. All Daniel had succeeded in doing was pushing them backward so that Jack was pressed up against the outer kitchen wall, his grip just as tight around Daniel as it was before.
"Let it go," Jack whispered, his face grave. He knew what he was doing - what he wanted Daniel to do, and though he didn't want it to happen, it was necessary. Daniel's anger would consume him if he didn't release it properly. He had to let most of it go and allow himself to grieve. "Daniel, you have to let it go or it will burn you."
"Fuck you, Jack! Stop analysing me!" Daniel screamed, trying to break free, and Jack heard the crack in his voice. "Fuck you, Jack..." Daniel repeated, his voice considerably quieter. He felt the heat from Jack's body, the warmth, the arms holding him, the love holding him, and he suddenly let go. The conscious acts brought tears, and his legs gave out. He slid down Jack's body, holding onto it like a lifeline as he fell to his knees. His head dropped down lower than his shoulders and he started to shake with the wracking sobs that now flowed from him. Jack, his knee now healed, dropped down as well and pulled Daniel against him as much as he could, rubbing his back.
It'll be okay.
It's what Jack wanted to say but he knew he couldn't because they both knew it wouldn't be. Instead, he whispered comfortingly, "Daniel...Daniel..." holding tight while his friend and lover fell apart for a little while. Daniel tried to talk but he couldn't, and the unintelligible sounds he made were of obvious anger. It took long minutes before his emotion was calmed down enough for him to make sense.
"She didn't deserve this," he cried softly.
"Of course she didn't," Jack echoed, continuing to rub his back, his lips kissing his hair, his temple. Daniel cried softly now, not saying anything more. He didn't need to. Jack knew what he would say so he simply held him against him long after his body stopped shaking. When he felt Daniel tense, he realized the anger was welling up in him once more. Daniel seemed to maintain control of it this time as his hands balled into fists, clutching the back of Jack's fatigue shirt so tightly that it threatened to rip.
"I hate them. I've never hated anyone or anything so much in my life, Jack. Never."
"I know, Daniel. I know. Me, too."
Daniel felt his pain beginning to well up again and he tried to divert it, to stifle it somehow. But nothing he thought of was helping...until he became aware once more of Jack's body holding him; aware that his lips were against Jack's warm neck. He turned toward his face, clutching Jack even tighter, if that was possible.
"Jack," he whispered, his throat still clogged with tears. Jack made an effort to look Daniel in the eye but soon found Daniel's lips locked on his, kissing him with fierce longing. The tears on his face, around his lips where they'd fallen, now wet Jack's face as well. The raw openness of it took hold of Jack and he kissed Daniel back, hard. Daniel's need and desire grew and Jack felt him hardening against his hip. He tried to pull away but Daniel wouldn't let him go...so he had to push.
"Daniel," he whispered gruffly, swallowing with difficulty as he broke their kiss and stared into Daniel's eyes.
Daniel cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Making you uncomfortable."
"You didn't, Daniel. I just don't want you starting something that might make you feel worse later."
Daniel stared hard at him, then shook his head. "It couldn't. It wouldn't," and he then brought up a hand up to brush away the tears that had fallen from Jack's eyes. "I'm sorry for that."
"For what now?" Jack asked.
"For making you cry."
"You didn't. It hurts me to see you hurt. You didn't do anything, Daniel."
Daniel was silent for a while, taking in that honesty from Jack. It made him feel better somehow, though his pain wasn't any less. "It's going to take me a while to heal from this."
"I know."
"Promise me something."
"If I can."
"Don't leave me."
"I'll try."
"That's not good enough."
"That's all I can promise, and you know that."
Daniel knew he was right. They could never predict when something bad might happen. He reluctantly nodded his agreement. "Yes, I know."
"You promise to try, too, okay?"
"Okay," Daniel replied, sniffing hugely.
Jack brushed the remaining wetness from Daniel's face, then grimaced comically as his hand came away with more than wetness above Daniel's upper lip.
"You need a tissue."
Daniel managed to smile as he sniffed again. "I know," and he rubbed his sleeve against his nose.
"Daniel," Jack laughed. "That's so gross."
Daniel laughed sadly. "You're a guy. How can that be gross?"
"I have civilized manners," Jack said drolly, making Daniel snort. "Okay, I do when it comes to wiping my nose. You still need a tissue, not your sleeve."
Daniel snorted again. "I know...it's just that I don't want to let go. Not yet. Can you understand that?"
Jack hugged him hard. "Yes. You don't ever have to let go, Daniel....except to blow your nose."
Daniel laughed against his shoulder...his nose inadvertently wiping on Jack's shirt...and it caused a case of the hysterical giggles. Jack pulled away, wondering at the sudden shaking, and Daniel fell forward, then down onto his side, hiding his face in his arms. Jack couldn't see his face at first so he thought the silent shaking of his shoulders was from crying...until Daniel turned his face to look at him. Jack sighed with relief...and a little irritation. Sitting down, he couldn't help but grin at Daniel's laughter, wondering what was so funny. Daniel seemed to get himself under control but when he met Jack's eyes, he burst out laughing again.
"Daniel, what's so funny?" he asked, his irritation growing despite himself.
Upon asking the question, the humour of the situation seemed to abate. Daniel pushed up on his elbow and wiped his eyes. "I kinda accidentally wiped..." and he started to laugh, "my nose on your uh, shoulder."
"What?" and Jack looked over his left shoulder and found a small dark spot...then made a noise of disgust as he took off his shirt. Daniel was laughing quietly as Jack balled the shirt up and threw it at him. "Needs to be washed anyway so knock yourself out." Jack should've known better than to be surprised when Daniel sat up and went ahead and did just that, blowing his nose, loudly, on his shirt. Jack followed it with another disgusted snort.
"Daniel."
Daniel snorted again, then got to his feet and cleared his throat. "I'm, um, just going to put this in the laundry room," and without waiting for Jack to respond, he disappeared down the hall, with Jack following quickly behind. Instead of just putting it in the dirty clothes basket, Daniel picked up the other stuff and began to fill the washer. He felt he needed something to do because he was embarrassed. He didn't think he'd ever cry in front of Jack...not like that...and though it could be excused, he still felt awkward about it.
Jack watched his actions for a minute, then walked up behind him as Daniel closed the lid and turned on the washer. Wrapping his arms around Daniel's waist, he leaned his chin on his shoulder then gave him a gentle squeeze.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked.
"Eventually," Daniel replied. "You?"
"Eventually."