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applecameron) wrote2004-05-31 12:26 pm
applecameron) wrote2004-05-31 12:26 pm
(SV) SG -1: T Minus Everything (R (lang)-- D/J)
title : T Minus Everything
author : SV, 2002, reprinted by permission
category : internal dialogue, vignette
archive : NO
spoilers : vague spoilers for "The Serpent's Lair"
It's funny, the things you think when you're dying. Take Dr. Daniel Jackson, for example.
Okay, Danny boy, get a move on. There's a sarcophagus around here somewhere. Gotta find it. Gotta get back. Gotta keep going.
"Not enough. I can't." The voice was probably his. There were dead gou'ald in the hallway of the ship. Enough C-4 to make even Sam wince at the thought of the explosion. Jack had slipped back to the rest of the team, and he'd heard the transporter device take them away, to Apophis' ship.
All Daniel Jackson had to do now was die. Easy. Everyone gets to do it at least once. Still, the Jack-voice in his head wouldn't let him. It kept talking. It kept egging him on.
C'mon, Daniel. C'mon. There's one of those things around here somewhere. We'll get you in it, good as new.
He moved about a foot, dragging his body behind after the one working arm. The rest of him hurt with a pain so unbelievable he couldn't actually think about it. A pain the size of the sun and about twice as hot.
And there was Jack's voice, taken up residence in Daniel's head.
It was like Jack hadn't actually left, the son of a bitch, couldn't even let him sacrifice himself. Just like Jack to swoop in and rescue him at the last moment. Just like him to shrug it off, afterwards.
"Jack, I can't." It's too far.
C'mon, Daniel. One little push.
He pushed.
And now another.
"No." But it was just a sob.
The Jack-voice grew hard, not cajoling any more.
You giving up on Sha're, then, is that it?
"No." He moved again, a convulsion that left him sprawling, oh, whole inches closer to his destination.
You want to die and just leave her to them? Is that what you want?
"No." Another push. The broken bits of his body weighed down, pinning him, and Daniel Jackson laid his cheek down on the coolness of the floor. Only for a moment.
Daniel, get moving. You don't have much time.
There was a lip in a doorway Daniel had to work himself over. "Oh, god," he said in a conversational tone, heaving his chest up and over it. Then screamed when the agony slammed a spike all the way down his left side, shoulder to toes.
Can't die with things left undone, Danny. Places to go, people to see. Hop to it, boy.
"Jack. Please don't make me."
What do you have left undone, Daniel? C'mon. Get your legs up there and tell me a regret you don't want to die with.
He heaved and felt something pop, the resulting scream abruptly truncated when all the air in his lungs just squeezed out. The sarcophagus, visible now, was at the end of a long tunnel.
Daniel.
He pulled forward, the tears on his cheeks a solid stream.
"Sha're."
That's one, Danny. Keep moving. What else?
Drag.
I regret not having a child with Share when we had a chance. I regret not finishing the exploration of Abydos's artifacts. I regret never scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef. I regret not learning photography. I regret that I have but one life --
Drag.
"I regret that I have but one life to give"
C'mon Daniel. Keep it coming. You're getting there.
Drag.
I regret never telling you --
Almost there, Danny. Now, just hook that arm over and pull yourself up.
"Ah, God, no."
Oh, you can do it, Daniel. You can do it. That can't be everything, can it?
"No."
He pulled, up and away from the voice, but it drilled on behind him, not letting him rest. "Damn you."
Regrets, Daniel? Are you telling me you have regrets? Are you saying you want to live?
"I regret not bending you over and fucking you until your eyeballs popped, Jack." His legs were moving, now, feet scraping.
"How do you like that for a regret?" He rasped. "I regret not doing you so hard and so long you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week."
He was levered up, teetering on an edge, one numb leg braced somewhere. His hands were slick, scrabbling for purchase.
I regret never going down on you in the shower like I wanted to.
I'm not really here, you know.
"Bastard."
That's me. Now get your ass in that thing.
The expletive came as two distinct exhalations. "Fuck", and "you". And then Daniel was on the surface of the sarcophagus, its controls just a fingertip away.
I dare you to try, Danny. Get out of here alive and I double-dog dare you.
"You're on." Daniel muttered as the sarcophagus closed shut around him.
author : SV, 2002, reprinted by permission
category : internal dialogue, vignette
archive : NO
spoilers : vague spoilers for "The Serpent's Lair"
It's funny, the things you think when you're dying. Take Dr. Daniel Jackson, for example.
Okay, Danny boy, get a move on. There's a sarcophagus around here somewhere. Gotta find it. Gotta get back. Gotta keep going.
"Not enough. I can't." The voice was probably his. There were dead gou'ald in the hallway of the ship. Enough C-4 to make even Sam wince at the thought of the explosion. Jack had slipped back to the rest of the team, and he'd heard the transporter device take them away, to Apophis' ship.
All Daniel Jackson had to do now was die. Easy. Everyone gets to do it at least once. Still, the Jack-voice in his head wouldn't let him. It kept talking. It kept egging him on.
C'mon, Daniel. C'mon. There's one of those things around here somewhere. We'll get you in it, good as new.
He moved about a foot, dragging his body behind after the one working arm. The rest of him hurt with a pain so unbelievable he couldn't actually think about it. A pain the size of the sun and about twice as hot.
And there was Jack's voice, taken up residence in Daniel's head.
It was like Jack hadn't actually left, the son of a bitch, couldn't even let him sacrifice himself. Just like Jack to swoop in and rescue him at the last moment. Just like him to shrug it off, afterwards.
"Jack, I can't." It's too far.
C'mon, Daniel. One little push.
He pushed.
And now another.
"No." But it was just a sob.
The Jack-voice grew hard, not cajoling any more.
You giving up on Sha're, then, is that it?
"No." He moved again, a convulsion that left him sprawling, oh, whole inches closer to his destination.
You want to die and just leave her to them? Is that what you want?
"No." Another push. The broken bits of his body weighed down, pinning him, and Daniel Jackson laid his cheek down on the coolness of the floor. Only for a moment.
Daniel, get moving. You don't have much time.
There was a lip in a doorway Daniel had to work himself over. "Oh, god," he said in a conversational tone, heaving his chest up and over it. Then screamed when the agony slammed a spike all the way down his left side, shoulder to toes.
Can't die with things left undone, Danny. Places to go, people to see. Hop to it, boy.
"Jack. Please don't make me."
What do you have left undone, Daniel? C'mon. Get your legs up there and tell me a regret you don't want to die with.
He heaved and felt something pop, the resulting scream abruptly truncated when all the air in his lungs just squeezed out. The sarcophagus, visible now, was at the end of a long tunnel.
Daniel.
He pulled forward, the tears on his cheeks a solid stream.
"Sha're."
That's one, Danny. Keep moving. What else?
Drag.
I regret not having a child with Share when we had a chance. I regret not finishing the exploration of Abydos's artifacts. I regret never scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef. I regret not learning photography. I regret that I have but one life --
Drag.
"I regret that I have but one life to give"
C'mon Daniel. Keep it coming. You're getting there.
Drag.
I regret never telling you --
Almost there, Danny. Now, just hook that arm over and pull yourself up.
"Ah, God, no."
Oh, you can do it, Daniel. You can do it. That can't be everything, can it?
"No."
He pulled, up and away from the voice, but it drilled on behind him, not letting him rest. "Damn you."
Regrets, Daniel? Are you telling me you have regrets? Are you saying you want to live?
"I regret not bending you over and fucking you until your eyeballs popped, Jack." His legs were moving, now, feet scraping.
"How do you like that for a regret?" He rasped. "I regret not doing you so hard and so long you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week."
He was levered up, teetering on an edge, one numb leg braced somewhere. His hands were slick, scrabbling for purchase.
I regret never going down on you in the shower like I wanted to.
I'm not really here, you know.
"Bastard."
That's me. Now get your ass in that thing.
The expletive came as two distinct exhalations. "Fuck", and "you". And then Daniel was on the surface of the sarcophagus, its controls just a fingertip away.
I dare you to try, Danny. Get out of here alive and I double-dog dare you.
"You're on." Daniel muttered as the sarcophagus closed shut around him.