Learning To Say Goodbye

by Mystic

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asm/mystic/learning.php
Summary: Unable to find the words for saying goodbye to his lost son, Jack runs, carrying the pain of his loss, never suspecting he'd run into the one man who would save his very soul

Colorado Springs, late June 1996

He stood there in silence, hearing the sound of voices but not truly understanding them, nor did the sound of sobs from others reach beyond the cold emptiness that was growing with leaps and bounds within him. He stood tall and watched his only son be put to rest in the ground at the tender age of ten.

He wore his dress uniform as a sign of respect for his once vibrant son, whose eyes shone with pride when he had spoken to the other kids of his father, the Air Force pilot. His ability to fly was more important to his son than his real duties of late...duties he now regarded as vile because they prompted him to keep a gun...his gun, in the house...their once happy home. It took all of his discipline not to rip the uniform off his body, the material making him itch. He wanted to scratch so hard his skin would bleed and bleed, even then he doubted that it would make the true itch go away.

He felt a nudge on his shoulder as his wife got up to place the flowers and the handful of dirt upon the tiny white coffin of their boy, "Jonathan Charles O'Neill III, born May 4th 1986, died June 1996, beloved son to Sara and Jonathan O'Neill II". This cued him into moving like the rest; except he was more stone in face and drone in movement. He couldn't let anyone know how he truly felt, as all his years of training told him such things were a sign of weakness and he would never want to appear weak in front of his son, even in death. But he knew it was only a matter of time because what little strength he had left was fading; and soon there would only be emptiness and pain.

"I'm really sorry, Jack" a deep male voice said from beside him.

He turned to look and saw his best friend, Charles Kowalski, also dressed in his finest, offering his condolences to him and Sara for their loss.

"Thank you for being here," Jack said, almost on automatic, for there was a fraction of thought involved, mainly whether to speak or remain silent. He registered that a response was required, so he spoke. He then turned back as the last of the many mourners passed. Many friends and family from both sides had come on this bright sunny day.

He looked up at the sky and felt angry; it shouldn't be sunny, it should be cloudy and raining, reflecting the sorrow of what he, and everyone else, was feeling. It should show that God was mourning the loss of his son too, by shedding tears and flooding the world, so they too would know how deep the loss went; how deep his loss went...yet he could not shed a tear himself, and this only made him angrier and emptier.

"Come on, Jack, let's get you and Sara home," Kowalski said, gently taking him by the arm, but he shrugged it off.

"No, take Sara," he said, his eyes behind the shades focused on the white box that held the body of his son that was now covered with flowers and smatterings of dirt.

"Jack..." Kowalski said, hoping to get him to come with them. Sara was already in the car, leaning heavily on her father and sharing her loss with Jack's parents. Charles then realized that everyone was keeping a distance from Jack as if by some unspoken agreement. The reason escaped him until he saw Jack's behavior and now he had a good idea why.

"I'm staying," was all he had to say on the matter despite several attempts to sway him otherwise, he remained silent and still, only looking away for a brief moment, to be sure the others had left. They had, but Kowalski had managed to get one of the cars to remain behind for him...'a waste', he thought, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

After the attendants lowered Charlie into the prepared ground, they looked at Jack, who looked like one of the Marines at Arlington, though Jack didn't stand at attention nor parade stance, just tall and still, staring at the hole, watching over it.

"Hey mister, you want us to come back?" one of the men asked, not wanting to interrupt the man in his grief. They could do the job later, and the look on this man's face scared them. They only saw him shake his head no, and so with shovels in hand, began the process of filling in the hole, the area chosen too narrow to bring in the larger equipment normally used.

When the driver of the hired car came to ask him if he was ready, he told him to leave, nothing more. When the two men who had finished covering his son's still body, forever sleeping in the white oak box, asked if he wanted them to call him a cab, he said no. He was staying with his son as he needed to find a way to tell him goodbye; to tell him how much he loved him and how very, very sorry he was for being a reckless and irresponsible parent. Many things ran through Jack's guilt-ridden head; he felt remorse for having the gun in the house in the first place that allowed Charlie the opportunity to get his hands on it and kill himself. He wanted to tell Charlie how sorry he was that their last words together were spoken in anger.

He recalled how Sara had tried to smooth things over between them, telling him that it was only a water pistol, and that all the kids had them. She said he shouldn't get so upset over it, before she headed out front to tend to the front garden. He realized that perhaps she was right, but instead of going upstairs to talk with Charlie, he had gone out front to speak with Sara, bringing Ice cream as a peace offering.

"I should have gone to find you," Jack whispered to his son's grave, ignoring the wind that picked up on that cool Colorado evening. He had been at the graveside since mid-morning. "If I had, I could have stopped you...could have..." his voice broke and he staggered a breath. "You'd be here now if I had been a better father," he said, struggling to find the words. "Your Mother asked me to retire last year, but I...I wanted to do another tour of duty...I..." he closed his eyes, finally removing the shades that hid his pain filled but still tear free eyes.

He wiped his eyes and then opened them again. "I wasn't there as I should have been...I missed out and you lost out..." he began to say and again his voice broke and he went silent. His eyes closed again and the horrible image of his son, laying on the floor, dark red blood oozing over the carpet, Charlie's eyes wide open and unmoving, as if staring at him, his whole body still and pale. ***

"Call 911," he shouted to Sara as he grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed, as Sara screamed in anguish. "CALL 911!" he shouted at her again and literally shoved her toward the phone, then dropped to his knees, and used the blanket as best he could as a pressure bandage, while he felt for a pulse...It was there, but weak. He looked into Charlie's eyes, but they were dilated, glassy and unfocused, and more fear struck his heart.

Without thinking, he removed the gun that was still in Charlie's hand and shoved it away with disgust, then he reached for another blanket, his mother's comforter, and pulled it from the bed and down on the floor to keep his boy warm. He tucked a bunch under Charlie's feet to help prevent more shock.

"Hang in there, sport," he urged, fighting his own impulse to grab his son up in his arms and run him to the nearest hospital, but he knew the paramedics could do more for Charlie than he could, so waited for what felt like ages. Soon the sound of sirens filled the air, along with Sara's sobs. "Get the door," he ordered her, as if she were one of his men. He bundled his son up in his arms and dashed down the steps and out the front door to meet them. "He shot himself in the head," he told them, laying him on the gurney, uncaring about any blood on him or his hands, his son for he was injured and needed help.

*** "WHY?" he shouted to the darkening sky, his memories of that night still vivid and painful. "Why him?" he asked God again, so desperately wanting an answer and knowing he'd never get one. His son was a good boy, bright, funny, and innocent of many things in the world. Where he was not so smart, just lucky, and far from innocent as he knew the kinds of things he had done over the years. Was this his punishment, to live while he buried his sweet son?

A cold acceptance swept over him as he slowly moved forward and knelt in the soft dirt next to Charlie's headstone. He removed one by one, each of his medals and adornments on his uniform and placed them on the base of the headstone. Then he removed his wings and placed them in the center, "These are for you, an extra set," he whispered. "I won't need them where I'm going," he added. He raised his right hand, kissed his fingertips and laid them lightly on the stone. "I love you, Charlie," he said, then got up and walked away.

Brooklyn - late September 1998

It was going to be another cold winter, of that he had no doubt, as he bundled his thin, worn, brown jacket around his body. He was glad he still had the scarf and gloves he got as a Pollyanna-gift for Christmas last year, while he had still been at the Institute, they were coming in handy right now, keeping at least a bit of him warm. Damn, he thought Chicago was cold; New York at present was giving Alaska competition.

"Should have listened, should have waited, but no...I 'had' to blaze the trail, break off all ties and forge ahead and present my theories..." he griped at himself under his breath. He scurried down the sidewalk always mindful of the few people that were passing as it was getting late. It was never a good idea to be out at night, especially on this side of Brooklyn. He knew that this part of the city had its reputation for a reason, but after his fiasco three months back, it was all he could afford, and even then, he was barely keeping above board.

The wind stirred up the litter and dirt off the sidewalk into the air, causing him to look down, for even his glasses were of little help. Moments later he stopped just under an awning, to remove his glasses and wipe the dirt from his eyes. He replaced them and sighed heavily, watching the gray skies grow dark and feeling himself do the same thing. "Two PhD's and a Masters and what are you doing? Tutoring at the university for minimum wage...part-time," he said with disgust at himself, glad he was alone.

The sound of his stomach growling, reminded him he needed some groceries, so he replaced his glasses and started he journey to his apartment. It wasn't close to the nearest bus line but that was the reason it was so cheap. Thankfully there was a general store, run by Mr. & Mrs. Pachinko, who liked him and gave him credit, and let him work it off by helping their son with his High School French.

Seeing the tiny store just ahead, he felt relieved, as it meant he was practically home. The streets had a lot of 'shifty' characters, as he thought of them, and wanted to avoid them as much as possible. Thankfully, most could see he was poorer than a church mouse and left him alone, though from time to time, he got harassed. He hadn't been here that long and with fall present and winter on its way, he didn't think folks would be too picky about who they bothered, and though he could handle himself in most situations, he knew it wise not to push his luck.

He crossed the street and entered the store, seeing them getting ready to close in a few minutes. "Evening," he greeted as he removed his scarf, glad for the warmth.

"Daniel!" Mr. & Mrs. Pachinko greeted warmly, and Mrs. Pachinko came around the counter and gave him a huge hug.

"You look tired, and too thin," she chided.

"I had to tutor early this morning," Daniel replied, gracefully backing out of the heavyset woman's arms.

"I though it was only part-time?" Mr. Pachinko asked, moving to gather a care box, his wife made for Daniel, knowing he would be stopping by.

"It is, but the guy could only meet in the morning, and then my next session was two hours later, no reason to come back, so..."

"Daniel, when are you going to get yourself a better job?" Mrs. Pachinko asked, shaking her head. "You are too good for such a menial position. Why put yourself through this?"

"Why? Because after my last fiasco, I can't get a reference to save my life...and is case and fact, why I'm tutoring," Daniel chuckled, but there was little humor in it.

"Something will come along," Mr. Pachinko said, handing him the box. "God has his reasons for having you here, Daniel," he smiled warmly.

"Well, Mike does need to know his French if he's to become a successful international entrepreneur," he grinned. "Thank you," he said, gesturing to the box, now in his arms, touched by their generosity and their kindness.

"You are most welcome," Mr. Pachinko smiled and began to walk him to the door.

"I put in there something special, to fatten you up," Mrs. Pachinko called out, as she headed back around the counter to close out the register for the evening.

They were just at the door, when a man stumbled in, probably slightly drunk judging by his actions, He wore a long overcoat and had filthy long dirty blond hair and a matted beard. He smelled horrible, as he took a few more steps toward the nearest isle.

"We're closed," Mr. Pachinko said firmly, hoping to get this bum out of his store.

"I...I've got...money," the man said, pulling his hand from his pocket to produce the twenty dollar bill, unknowingly indicating he was probably homeless by his worn mitten, that let his fingers show through. "I'll be quick," he added, sounding less intoxicated, then he smelled.

Daniel took one look at the man and felt for him, for if it wasn't for the kindness of the Pachinko's and Mr. Trevino, who let him move in his apartment without a deposit, it would have been him standing there, trying to scrape by. Plus, there was something in the dark brown eyes that called to him, "He'll be quick," he said to Mr. Pachinko, hoping that would sway him into letting the man get his supplies for the evening, even if it did probably consist of alcohol.

"Ah...fine, but be quick, we're closed," Mr. Pachinko said, closing up the door and locking it, sharing a look with Daniel that he would have to wait until the man was out of his store before he could leave.

Daniel didn't mind waiting, it was warm in here, and he still had a block to go before he reached the old four-story house, renovated into apartments. He lived in the top right corner that gave him a four-flight climb to look forward to. He moved to the side and placed his box on the counter, and tried to be casual as he watched the other man grab a cheap bottle of something, scotch probably, then quickly gathered up some of those 'just add water and heat noodles' and bring it all to the counter.

"Pack of Marlboro 100's?" the man asked.

Daniel didn't smoke, but knew that was expensive taste for a man with no home, as there were generics that would cost him less, but said nothing, as it wasn't his business what the man spent his money on. He then watched as it was rung up, and saw the total come to twenty dollars and thirty-three cents. Then he saw the silent frustration in the dark eyes, as the man laid the twenty-dollar bill on the counter and searched his pockets, only to come up ten cents short.

"I don't suppose...?" the man asked, his voice sounding a tad charming to Daniel's ears. The man's eyes had almost a sparkle, and probably at one time did.

"No credit," Mr. Pachinko said firmly.

Daniel felt his face flush and his heart fill with guilt, for that was what he was doing...getting credit. The only difference was, they liked him and judged him to be someone in need, and they judged this man unworthy. "I got it," he said, reaching into his pocket, going for his bus fare, as he saw the man looking over his purchase to put something back. "It's just a dime," he said casually, so it didn't sound too much of a big deal, though he could see Mr. & Mrs. Pachinko were NOT happy with him as he did this.

"Thanks," the man said, and took the bag from Mrs. Pachinko and headed out, as Mr. Pachinko unlocked to door for him to leave.

"You shouldn't do that," she scolded. "They'll get the idea that it's okay to come in here short and expect to get what they want. First a dime, then a quarter, than a dollar...it'll never end. No, best to let them know what to expect up front," she added firmly.

Daniel just nodded, not wanting to debate what she said and what she did with him, for though he wanted to discuss ethics and double standards; fact was he needed the food. So, he silently took his box and gave a small smile and a wave and headed out to his apartment.

********

It was Friday, and Daniel was feeling good, not even bothered by the cold, as he stepped inside the little general store. "Evening," he greeted, Mr. And Mrs. Pachinko.

"Daniel," they both greeted just like they did most evenings.

"You are in a good mood tonight," Mrs. Pachinko grinned, seeing Daniel's eyes light up and his face all smiles.

"Yes I am," he grinned. "I got a full-time job," he told them.

"Congratulations," they both said, moving to give him a partial hug.

"Tell us about it," Mr. Pachinko instructed.

"It's still tutoring and doesn't pay more, but it's more hours, so more money all together," Daniel explained. "I also get regular hours, so I don't have to worry about the nights anymore."

"I'm glad..." Mrs. Pachinko started to say, when she saw the front door open and saw the homeless man enter. She lowered her voice, "He comes in here, every two days, and buys the same thing, though at different times of the day."

Daniel turned and noticed it was the same man he saw last week. "He still short?" he asked, wondering if that was why Mrs. Pachinko was so upset about him coming into the store so much.

"No, he brings exactly twenty-dollars and thirty-three cents," she replied, keeping a sharp eye on the man, just as Mr. Pachinko was doing.

"Then what's the problem?" Daniel asked, also keeping his voice low, but he had a feeling the man was very aware they were talking about him.

"He smells and is filthy," she spat quietly.

Daniel just remained silent, again, not wanting to bite the hand that fed him, for though he was going to be pulling in more money, he doubted it would be all that much, especially considering how far behind in his bills he was.

"Excuse me," the man said, having moved closer to the counter, but not too close. "Do you have some cough medicine?"

"We have regular drink over there," Mr. Pachinko said curtly, pointing to the isle, which held the liquor.

"I know that. But I need to buy some cough medicine, do you have any?" the man asked again, sounding patient, as if he had met this kind of response before.

"I'll show you," Daniel said, feeling it was his only option of handling the situation without saying something to the Pachinko's. He didn't like that side of them, which thankfully they didn't show too often. It also helped him feel less guilty, since he never spoke up, feeling he should, but again trying not to be as stupid as he had been in the past. He was still smarting after that forum he gave on his ideas, where everyone laughed and his so-called friends abandoned him.

Daniel noticed the man kept a distance from him, unsure if he was bothered by Daniel or was mindful of the fact he needed a shower, but at no time did he give Daniel reason for pause or concern, as they headed down to the far isle to the left.

"Thank you," the man said, and stepped back, so Daniel could pass him, to return to the front counter.

Once again, Mrs. Pachinko lowered her voice. "I don't see why they waste their money on cough syrup, it's not going to do them any good, drinking and smoking...and the alcohol levels in most of them are not that high..."

"I don't think it's for him," Daniel said, wanting to change the subject or at least the prejudgment. "He's not coughing," he added, seeing the looks he got from the two storeowners.

Before the conversation could continue, the man brought up the same items as he had when Daniel first saw him and the box of Vick's Formula 44D. And once more watched as Mrs. Pachinko rang it up.

"Excuse me, but the price on the shelf said, $4.54, you just rang up, $5.54," he said politely.

"The price on the shelf is wrong, that's the price," Mrs. Pachinko said, showing the tag on the box. "Do you want it or not?" she asked, sounding annoyed and put out by this man.

Again, Daniel was torn between his needs and his ethics, but before he could chose, the man nodded and removed two of the noodle cups from his pile, having chosen drink and cigarettes over a meal. He paid for what he had before him, getting twenty cents back in change, and then silently took his purchase and headed out.

"Why?" Daniel heard himself ask.

"Why what?" Mrs. Pachinko asked, shoving the noodle cups aside to be put back later.

"Why did you not give him the lower price? That is the law when it comes to pricing discrepancies," he said, trying to make a point without stepping on toes, but it was very difficult for him. He knew he could probably get them to see the 'light' as it were, with some time and patience, but when his temper got in the way or his moral compass started spinning wildly, it was a challenge to speak, much less say the right words.

"He could have put the cigarettes back and get a cheaper pack, or the drink," Mr. Pachinko replied for his wife. "He chose the food. Besides, it might persuade him to go somewhere else," he added as he moved and gathered Daniel's care package, again lovingly made by his wife.

Daniel let them chat about their son and his girlfriend and other things, but he was barely listening, as he was so filled with guilt and felt like a hypocrite, as he smiled, nodded and walked out the door. He believed in fairness and equality, yet he was taking charity that would not be bestowed on others who needed it, just as much if not more than he did.

In the distance, Daniel saw the man turning the corner, half a block in the opposite direction from where he lived. Then he turned to look down the block seeing the outline of his building, and then once more to the corner where the man had gone, and decided he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to do something. So, box in hand, book bag on his shoulder, Daniel headed down the half block in a hurried pace, not wanting to lose the man, and turned to see the man had a long stride. "HEY WAIT UP!" he shouted after the man and then dashed down the side street as fast as he could. He saw that the man only slowed, but had not stopped. "Hey, wait," he said again.

Finally the man stopped, his dark eyes narrowing at him in puzzlement, his face highlighted by the streetlamp, the only one still working on this block. Daniel gave a small smile, feeling very nervous as he approached. "I ah...well...here," he finally said, realizing that for a linguist, he couldn't find the words to express himself at the moment, as he handed over the box made for him by Mrs. Pachinko.

Daniel saw the tall, fairly lean man by his stance, just stare at him and the box, not a word said and no attempt to take the box either. "Please," Daniel said, taking a step forward, almost touching the man's chest with the box, but not quite. "I want you to have it."

"Why?" was all the man said, his dark eyes saying so much more, like what's in it for you...what's the catch...is this your good deed for the day. It was the latter part of that look that got to Daniel the most.

"She shouldn't have overcharged you," Daniel said firmly. "And...and...no one should go hungry if it can be prevented," he added, meeting the other man's gaze.

"But she makes that for you," the man commented, blowing Daniel's mind, as he was not expecting that.

"How...?"

"I've been in there before, I've heard her talk," was all he said. "From what I hear, you need it too."

"But I have a place, I have...leftovers...I...ah..." he sighed out in frustration. "Damn," he said to himself. "I can speak over twenty languages, and I can't seem to explain this right," he chided himself. "Look, please, just take it.... share it."

"Sure, whatever," the man finally said, taking the box from Daniel, but no sign of gratitude in his eyes.

"Look, I just want to help..." he tried to say.

"Perhaps you should try learning more of what the problem is instead of jumping to conclusions. You're only out here because you feel guilty, not because you want to help. But if that's what you want...no skin off my nose. I know of some folks who could use this," he said, gesturing to the box in his hands.

"But..."

"Oh, you figured because I look like a homeless bum, I must be starving as well, and that I would be gushing with gratitude that you decided to share your box of goodies with me...well, again, you would be wrong," the man replied coolly.

"I just..."

"You really want to help?" the man asked, a challenge in his voice, again his dark eyes narrowing as if sizing Daniel up.

"Well...I guess...yeah..." Daniel said, not sure what the man was going to say.

"Fine...then follow me," he said and turned and started down the long side street.

Daniel stood there for a long moment, debating to follow or not, but could tell the man was not going to stop and wait for him. He didn't know why, but there was something about how that man looked at him that pushed his buttons all the wrong way, so instead of going home as he knew he probably should, he rushed off to catch up with the man. He matched his stride as they walked, if for no other reason, than to show the man he would follow him.

"By the way, my name is Daniel Jackson," Daniel said, hoping a form of introduction could get some conversation going, as they turned down an alleyway another half block from where they last were.

"Jack," was all the man muttered, going up some sidesteps to what looked like an abandon building.

Daniel followed, a bit of fear sneaking up on him, the place was cold and dark like most of the decrepit buildings around them. He remained silent as he followed Jack, at least that was what he believed the man said was his name, as they headed towards the back where he could see the glow of a light coming from a back room. As he approached, he could see two other men were there, huddled close to a large trashcan, being used to burn wood for heat, one of the two men in a wheelchair.

"Bringing home strays now, Jack?" one of the men called out his voice raspy and rough, heaving a heavy cough to follow his words.

"You should at least get one that's got some meat on the bones, he's so thin he wouldn't make an appetizer," the other man said, this time. Daniel could see it was the one standing who spoke.

"Shut it, Dryer," Jack snarled, moving into the light. He placed the care package down on man in the wheelchair's lap and pulled out the bottle of medicine. "Here, this should help, Owens," he said, as he handed it to the older man before him.

"Thanks, Jack, you're a lifesaver," Owens rasped and coughed, sounding more like he belonged in a hospital then the streets.

"He's a bloody saint, now, where's the rest?" Dryer asked impatiently, his eyes on the bag in Jack's hand.

Daniel watched as Jack removed the pack of cigarettes and opened them taking five and then splitting the rest into two piles, one going to Owens, the other Dryer. Dryer lit one up immediately and held his drag for the longest time and then let it out slowly, a little moan of satisfaction along with it. Then Jack opened the bottle and divided it in three tin cups that suddenly appeared, giving all three men a large cup full, then gulped his own, wincing at the burn of the cheap liquor.

"You did good, Jack, did good," Dryer chuckled, enjoying his drink and smoke. "So, what's with the kid?"

"He provided dinner," Jack said, moving to open the box, showing the others the thick turkey and roast beef sandwiches that were in there and the two slices of chocolate cake, along with some oranges and two small bags of chips.

"Wow," the other two men gasped, not having seen such a haul in a while.

"You alright, kid," Dryer said, reaching in and grabbing one half of the turkey sandwich.

"Eh," Owens muttered, taking the food, but not having any time for Daniel.

Jack took the fruit and placed it in his pocket along with a bag of chips, grabbed his five cigarettes, and his cup of noodles and turned to face Daniel. "Let's go," he said, and practically herded him out, though never laying a hand on him.

"Hey, wait, what's going on?" Daniel asked, not understanding why he was being pushed out.

"Go home," Jack told him flatly.

"But you said if I wanted to really help to follow you. Well, I'm here, so tell me," Daniel replied, annoyed at being treated like this.

"Look, I didn't really expect you to follow me, kid. Fact is, there isn't anything you can do, unless you can provide a proper roof over their heads and regular meals along with medical treatment for Owens...can you?" Jack challenged.

"Well...no," Daniel replied, knowing he was barely taking care of himself. "But there are shelters, soup kitchens..."

"You ever been in a shelter, kid?" Jack asked, his eyes showing he already knew the answer to that. "Well, let me tell you," he said, not even waiting for Daniel to respond, "they are crowded and far from safe, especially for men like Owens and Dryer. Owens's vulnerable to any bully who would want to push him around. His weakened health, and loss of legs that happened when he was overseas, would only make it worse. If you haven't guessed, Dryer has a mouth and the skill to back it...which could get someone killed, so its best if he's not in that situation, got it? As for the kitchens, they're not open twenty-four seven. This isn't exactly the Ritz but we make do. Now, thank you for the box of food kid, but go home."

Daniel didn't know what to say, he knew Jack was right, he knew nothing of shelters and had nothing to provide these men. So with a nod, he turned and headed back, feeling worse for his troubles, even though he had brightened up the other two men's night, it seemed Jack, the man he had originally tried to help, was far from pleased with his efforts. He wondered why it should matter to him as he headed back. As he walked, he started to think, and as he thought, he started to get mad because he realized Jack had been pushing him, hoping he'd back off when he first asked him to follow, like some test. He never really wanted help he was just playing him!

Daniel stopped walking and did an about face, and started marching right back to where he left Jack and the others. He was just on the steps of the abandoned building when he heard the voices. There were more than just the three men inside now, and something in the air made Daniel's stomach clench as he froze, feeling scared. He could just make out some curse words, and decided he needed to see what was happening, if Jack and the others were all right, not even considering the fact he didn't know these men. He moved just enough to see around the corner and saw five other men...no, boys, by the dress and colors...gang colors, surrounding the three men. Daniel debated on what he should do, but in seconds the choice was taken from him and he could only watch.

Daniel could now understand that the gang wanted the house for themselves and wanted the three men out. Jack was unhappy with the turn of events but was willing to do it. Dryer, on the other hand was not so agreeable and his foul words didn't sit well with what Daniel could only guess was the leader of the gang. Jack was right about Dryer having a mouth on him. The largely built kid went to backhand him, which turned out to be a mistake; as Dryer grabbed the kid's wrist and twisted it so fast and so hard, the crunch of bone echoed over into the night, only to be washed out by the kid's scream of pain.

Another punk went to pull a gun, but Jack was swift, grabbing his arm and twisting the kid around, until he was in an arm lock, moaning in pain. The other three also went to pull their weapons, but Owens socked one in the groin so hard he doubled over, as Dryer belted one in the face, knocking him out. Jack used the kid in his grasp as a battering ram, and banged him into the other kid, knocking them both out. Then he proceeded to gather up their weapons and remove the bullets with care and skill, as if he knew how to handle a gun, placing the bullets in his pocket and tossing the empty gun in the fire.

"You guys okay?" Daniel asked, his concern for the men, overtaking his good sense.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jack growled as he looked up to see him.

"What does it matter?" Daniel replied, then noticed Owens didn't look so good and rushed to his side. "You okay?" he asked, but the heavy cough, followed up with pinkish foam, was a strong indication the man was very ill. "He needs a hospital," he told the other two men.

"They'll only send him to the VA," Dryer replied, "and he hates the VA."

"Jack..." Daniel said, pleading for a little support.

Jack saw how the kid cared, even if he didn't know the man, but there was another matter at hand. "We need to get out of here first, we'll discuss it on the way," he said, giving a kick in the face to the one kid that was not out cold for one reason or another, and then gathered what little they had and handed it to Dryer, and he and Daniel got Owens outside and headed back up the way Daniel had come as fast as they could.

"Look, kid..."

"Daniel, my name is Daniel, I'm not a kid," he snapped. "This man needs a doctor..."

Jack stopped and then signaled for Dryer to wheel Owens forward, letting him and Daniel talk for a moment. "Look, ki...Daniel. The man has a right to chose where he's going to die, and Owens is dying, Daniel, don't make any mistake about that. He's been through the VA system and he doesn't want to do it again...it's his right..."

"JACK!" Dryer shouted.

Daniel and Jack ran over to Dryer who looked panicked, as Owens was now silent and hunched over. "Oh no," Jack whispered, and knelt down next to the older man and felt for a pulse, then some breath, then bowed his head. "FUCK!" he suddenly roared, and whirled away from them and kicked a few trashcans and tossed a few more. "Fucking sons-of-a-bitches," he snarled with anger, though deep down he knew Owens was dying, he had hoped not so soon.

Daniel was stunned, for though he had seen death up close before, it had been a long while, and was unsure how to react. Jack was filled with anger, Dryer, who a moment ago was all mouth and sass, now blubbered like a baby at the feet of the man who had died moments ago.

"We need to call the police," Daniel finally said.

"Why?" Jack snapped, just barely coming down off his rage.

"You don't plan on just leaving him here do you?" Daniel snapped back.

"Hell no..." Jack started, only to be cut off by Daniel.

"Then we need to call the police, so they can...get the ball rolling and contact the coroner's office...it has to be reported," Daniel explained.

Jack was silent for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay, you call them," he told Daniel and moved to kneel down next to the other man still crying. "Dryer...Dryer...you need to get it together, we need to call the police."

"NO!" Dryer suddenly growled and got to his feet, eyeing both Jack and Daniel as if they were the enemy. "No cops!"

"We have to, unless you just want us to leave him out here to rot?" Jack said, side stepping slowly between Dryer and Daniel. "Daniel, go call the cops," he said in a calm, controlled voice, but didn't take his eyes off the man before him.

Daniel didn't understand what was happening, but after seeing them fight, he knew enough to guess these men were former military. Jack appeared to be the youngest of them all, and his gut was telling him that Jack was protecting HIM, from Dryer. Not wanting to make matters worse, he just carefully walked backwards and down the block, keeping one eye on the two men and another where he was going. The nearest phone was the payphone just outside the Pachinko's store.

Daniel wasn't too happy with the police dispatch after he told them what happened and that the man was dead, as they informed him they would send a car and the coroner as soon as they could, no estimated time of arrival given, and then hung up on him, after obtaining his information.

Daniel headed back around the corner, wondering suddenly if it had been some kind of trick, as he didn't see anyone off hand, but then he saw Owens' body still sitting in his wheelchair, but no sign of Dryer or Jack. "Jack...Dryer?" Daniel called out, thinking he had been left with the bag...er...body to hold until the police arrived. Not getting any response, Daniel felt like an idiot, but he wouldn't abandon the man, so he bundled his coat around himself and waited.

Five minutes later, Jack arrived, but he was limping as he walked. "What happened?" Daniel asked, as he could see Jack's face was bruised and his lip bleeding. Jack just shook his head no, as if that should cover it all. "Jack, you're bleeding," Daniel told him.

"No, really? And here I thought that red stuff was lipstick," he replied, moving until he could lean on the nearest wall near Owens' body and slowly lowered himself to the ground.

"What happened, Jack?" Daniel asked, his voice softer but no less concerned.

Jack sighed, knowing he would have to let the kid in on what was going down. "Look, when the cops get here, don't mention about the gang or Dryer...it'll only bring trouble..."

"Why? They attacked you?"

"You think they'll care?" Jack asked, looking up from under matted bangs, toward Daniel. "No, they won't, they'll only arrest me and go hunting for Dryer and believe me when I say, we don't want that."

"He did that to you?" Daniel asked, suddenly seeing things a bit clearer.

Jack sighed, his body sore. "He was once a Navy Seal, something...happened, which you don't need to know about. He couldn't handle it anymore and went AWOL. He's wanted and he's bound and determined not to be taken in. Most of the time he's fine, but..."

"Tonight was not a good night I take it," Daniel said. "But why did he attack you...?" Daniel trailed his words as he suddenly realized why, "He wanted to stop me from calling the cops, didn't he?" he asked, Jack's moment of hesitation enough to give him his answer. "Jack, I..."

"Look, you can make it up to me, by sticking to the story we're going to make up, you understand?" Jack asked firmly.

Daniel nodded, "I can do that. But...you're military too; I mean..." he saw the look he was getting. "I saw you move in the fight back there and if he was Navy Seal and you held your own, it only stands to reason..."

Jack couldn't help the small chuckle, though his ribs ached for it. "You're something kid," he smiled. "Yes, I was once Air Force, you don't need to know more, but I didn't go AWOL."

"Can I ask why you're..."

"No," Jack firmly, clamping down on that line of questioning. "Look, kid, I'm glad you're here," he said, trying to soften the moment a bit. "You've been a help, but...my past is just that, mine, it's not up for discussion, okay?"

"Okay...sorry, I didn't mean to..." Daniel sighed, and wrapped his arms around himself, again wondering why he was bothering with all this mess.

Jack looked at the younger man and saw the expression and it made him feel like he just kicked a puppy. "It's not personal Daniel, I just don't want to talk about it, okay?" he said, wanting to see that expression gone from that face, for it was a nice face, a kind face.

"Okay," Daniel replied, as he felt a bit better.

The two men discussed their stories having plenty of time to go over the finer details. In the long run it was unnecessary, as the officer and the representative of the coroner's office wrote it off as another homeless man dying. They used a lot more technical words that Daniel didn't follow, but saw it added up to the same. Once they had Randle Owens, former Staff Sergeant in the United States Marines, loaded in the van, the basic questions answered, they left, taking the chair and his belongings with him, the two of them forgotten.

Daniel saw Jack watch the van disappear down the street, seeing the mask of neutrality, slipping here and there, then run a hand through his messy hair. "Where are you going to go now?" Daniel asked.

Jack turned to look at Daniel, then gave a slight smile, "I'll find someplace, don't worry about me. You best be getting home."

"You going to find Dryer?" Daniel asked, ignoring Jack's suggestion.

"Not tonight, he'll go under, his paranoia's getting the better of him. Perhaps later," Jack said, placing his hands in his coat pocket, and shivered a bit.

"Come back to my place," Daniel said, not wanting to see this man, who was hurt, obviously in need, just go off into the night without at least trying.

"Daniel..."

"I've got a long sofa, not the best, but not cramped, hot water...hot chocolate," he added, hoping to tempt the man to come in out of the cold. "You're hurt. At least let me clean up your wounds..."

Jack knew he should just go, but...the kid...man, wanted to help, and he was freezing, plus it was rather late to scout out a new place tonight, and...he was tired. He pulled out a cigarette, and found his lighter and lit it. "Well, I am rather fond of hot chocolate...but only if you have those tiny marshmallows in it, or no deal," he said as seriously as he could, only his eyes laughing. Something about this guy warmed Jack inside, and it was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Daniel smiled, "The marshmallows I can handle, though...the smoking..." he looked at the cancer stick as he saw it and coughed a little. "Bad allergies," he said, as it was true and they made him sensitive to smoke.

Jack thought about it a second, then took one last drag and tossed it to the street. "I was planning on quitting anyway," he smiled. "Lay on McDuff," he said, gesturing for Daniel to lead the way.

"Shakespeare?" Daniel asked, arching a brow.

"I can read," Jack replied, only a bit offended. "And libraries are good places to keep dry on a rainy day...well, that is, when the sports bars are too full," he smirked.

Daniel shook his head, and led the way, wondering again, why was he letting himself get involved in all this and what was it about this man that made him want to extend his hand like this. He didn't know and he only hoped it wouldn't come back and bite him on the ass later.

It didn't take long to get back to Daniel's place and up the four flights of stairs, to his cold apartment. "Brrr, I thought it would be warmer in here, but it's freezing," Jack commented as he stepped inside the one bedroom apartment.

"I don't turn the heat on until I get home, though with winter coming sooner than later, I'll have to do it or the pipes will freeze," Daniel explained, moving over to the wall where an old fashioned iron water heater was, and turned the knob. He gave it a hard kick and then the sound of water bubbling up could be heard. "May be old, but it works," he smiled.

"I can relate to that," Jack sighed, moving to stand by the window.

"Relax, I'll get the hot chocolate together," Daniel suggested over his shoulder, stepping over piles of books as he went.

"You saving up to open your own library?" Jack asked, noticing pile after pile of books, some ten books high, all over the place.

"No, I'm actually an Archeologist, Linguistic and Anthropologist," Daniel called out from the kitchen. "I have my PhD in the first two, just finished my Masters on the last one a few months ago."

"Then why the hell are you living in a...tiny...place like this?" Jack asked, not wanting to call the man a liar, but men with two PhD's don't live like this.

"Ah...that's a long and...embarrassing story," Daniel replied, having moved to stand in the archway, folding his arms around himself, as the hot water was on the stove heating up.

"Ah...well, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to," Jack said, seeing the pain and other emotions behind what he could now see were very intense blue eyes, indicating to him, that Daniel was telling the truth.

"Perhaps another time," Daniel nodded. He then looked over his shoulder, "Look, it's going to take some time to heat, why don't I get you a change of clothes. I have some sweats that are a bit big on me that should fit you, then you can take a hot shower while I get the sofa made up," he grinned, feeling better that he had a plan and he could do something to help Jack. "Plus, I have some first aid stuff in the bathroom...for your lip and all," he smiled, suddenly feeling shy.

"That's very kind of you, Daniel," Jack said, not sure what to say, he didn't usually like charity of any kind, especially since his situation was of his own making, and he knew it. There was something about the younger man that, made him 'want' to let him help; especially if it got that depressed kicked puppy look off his face.

"Ah, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but...do you, I mean, would you like your hair cut?" Daniel asked, as Jack's hair was really scraggy not to mention dirty and could be hiding other 'hygiene' issues.

"You any good?" Jack asked, feeling that perhaps a trim would be nice.

"Oh...so-so," Daniel replied, for he hadn't cut anyone's hair but his own, and only recently as he couldn't afford the barbers. "It's not like I could mess it up," he quipped, then paused, wondering if he insulted the man.

Jack chuckled, "No, I guess you couldn't...at least not by much. But why don't we just wait until morning and see what she brings. It's late, and I thank you for the shower and bed," he added, for he suddenly didn't want to lie on Daniel's sofa being as dirty he was. Normally he didn't give a damn about most people, but recently that began to change; first Owens, then Dryer, now Daniel. He hoped it wasn't a new pattern in his life, he didn't think he was up to it. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to drink would you?" he asked, for suddenly he really could use one.

"Ah, not really, just some cheap wine, I have with dinner..." Daniel replied.

"Never mind," Jack said, undoing his coat and finding an isolated area, laid it down.

"Bathroom's this way," Daniel said and then went to get things ready showing Jack that the bathroom was through his small bedroom. He got the sweats and handed them to Jack with a couple of towels. He showed Jack where he stored his shampoo, conditioner and shaving kit if he wanted it, and then got an extra sheet out and some blankets and made up the sofa for him. He went and made a small snack; soup and crackers and kept it warm until Jack came out...which was about an hour later.

"Sorry," Jack said apologetically, having gotten lost in the warm mist and the chance to really bathe without constantly watching over his shoulder. He was dressed in the sweats, which fit him nicely, his form a bit bigger than Daniel's and only a bit taller. He was drying his hair with the towel as he suddenly stopped and lowered it, smelling the food. "Chicken soup?"

"Thought you might be hungry," Daniel said, already having eaten his.

"I am, thank you," Jack smiled, moving to sit at the tiny kitchen table, and dug in without hesitation, a tiny indication to Daniel that the man was starving.

Daniel went to take his own shower; pleased to see Jack had cleaned up after himself. When he came back out, also dressed in sweats because his apartment was too cold not to wear them, he found Jack already asleep on the sofa. Daniel placed a few extra blankets on him, put the dishes in the sink, and then decided before he turned in to leave Jack a note asking him to stay for breakfast. He headed off to bed himself, unaware of how much he hoped Jack would be there in the morning.

************

The first thing that penetrated his senses was the smell of coffee, calling to him, like a siren to sailors, beckoning him to rise and get some. As he rose and peeked at his clock, he realized it was late in the day, most of the morning was already gone. He panicked as he grabbed his organizer and looked and saw he didn't have a session today. He blew out of breath of relief. His new position didn't start until Monday, but he had from time to time, scheduled sessions on Saturday.

The smell of hot food suddenly drifted in among the partial opening of his door, and Daniel slipped into his socks and headed out to see what was going on. He couldn't help the smile he felt, at seeing Jack, dressed in his old clothes, cooking breakfast...bacon, eggs, toast and was that...yes, it smelled like cinnamon raisin... "Mmmm, that sure smells good," he said, his eyes widened with hunger. It normally took several cups of coffee to do that.

"Here," Jack said, handing him a cup of black coffee. "Didn't know what you took in it. Rest will be done in a minute, have a seat."

Daniel took a seat, drank his coffee straight as he liked it that way best, unless it tasted awful, then he would mix it with sugar or milk. "You know, I'm pretty sure I didn't have any of that stuff in my refrigerator last night," he said, wondering where it all came from.

Jack, his long hair pulled back in a rubber band, brushed his bangs aside, and washed his hands before getting the warmed bagels out of the oven and placed them on the table. "I've always been an early bird," Jack said, as he turned and placed the butter holder near Daniel along with a butter knife. "Mr. Stanley, who runs the bakery, usually loads and unloads supplies first thing in the morning, but his son Jason hurt his back, and his other son Mark is apparently a lazy bastard. When I saw him struggling a few weeks back, I offered him a hand. I don't handle any of the fresh products, he does that, but I get the heavy boxes and fix up the storeroom. He gives me a bit of cash under the table and some of the day-olds," Jack informed him, as he brought over the small plate of bacon and then divided the scrambled eggs on two plates and brought them over to the table as well.

"Oh, you also have some muffins and bread in there. Thought you could use it," Jack added, grabbing his bottle of scotch, which he poured into his coffee, before sitting down to eat.

Daniel had mixed feelings at seeing the scotch, but said nothing and dug in. The eggs just melted in his mouth as he savored the light cheesy flavor Jack had given them. "These are good," he raved suddenly aware of how hungry he was for a proper hot meal. "You know, if you can cook like this, you could get a job as a chef," he commented off hand, then winced, as he didn't mean to be insulting. "Sorry," he muttered.

Jack knew Daniel didn't mean anything by his comment and was flattered, "My ex-wife wouldn't agree with you. She said the only reason the dog ate my cooking was because he lost his taste buds years ago," he chuckled.

Daniel stopped eating, eggs mid-way to his mouth. "Ex-wife?"

Jack took a large drink of his spiked coffee, "Sara," he said. "Pass the butter will ya?" he asked, changing the subject.

Knowing Jack didn't want him to pry, he let it slide and passed the butter. "So, what are you planning to do?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he enjoyed the delicious meal before him.

"Find Dryer. Someone has to keep an eye on him, he's a ticking time bomb, and the wrong situation could cause him to go off," Jack said, mainly looking at his food while he ate.

"If he's so...bad off, wouldn't it be better to get him some kind of help?" Daniel asked, leaning back and staring at the bruise on Jack's cheek, though the thick beard covered most of it.

"He's AWOL, Daniel, which means the moment he tried to get any kind of help, his name will flash on someone's screen somewhere and they'll send the MPs after him. That would only make matters worse. Sadly, there really isn't much anyone can do for him because he'll either run or hurt those trying to take him in," Jack shrugged, continuing to eat as if nothing was wrong.

Daniel saw another flicker in the neutral mask, giving him more proof that Jack cared a lot more than he was letting on. "Where will you go?" he then inquired.

Jack sat back, his plate now empty, and reached around to refill his coffee mug with both coffee and scotch. "Not sure yet. If we can't find something, then we'll have to go to a shelter as the temperatures are dropping. The subway is warm but dangerous. Spots may seem open but they tend to be claimed by someone willing to fight over them, most times. Plus, there's a place out by the docks off the dumpsite, but Dryer's mouth keeps getting him into trouble," Jack told him, taking another large sip and relaxed.

Daniel, his bacon all gone, and was half way through his bagel, when he suddenly started playing with the remains of his eggs. He didn't like the thought of Jack out there in the cold, but he didn't like the idea of Dryer here in his apartment. "What if you don't find him?" he heard himself ask, then looked up from under his lashes, nibbling on some of the eggs.

"Don't worry about it, I'll find something," Jack said. "I can take care of myself..."

"I don't mean to pry, but why are you..." Daniel sighed, for that was definitely a prying question and Jack had said the other night he didn't want to discuss it. "Never mind."

"Daniel," Jack sighed, seeing the sincere concern before him. "I...I'm not really good around people right now. I'm okay for a day or two, but after awhile...things get to me. I came to New York to get lost, not start over," he explained, feeling deep down he owed the kid a little something for his hospitality and gestures of friendship.

Daniel just nodded, head still down, playing with his eggs. After a while, he gave up the pretense of eating, and looked up and saw Jack wasn't even there. The man had moved off and didn't make a sound. He got up and found Jack, putting on his coat. "You don't have to go so soon, I mean...if you don't want to..."

Jack smiled, "You're a good kid...man," he corrected himself, for Daniel looked so young. "But the sooner I get started the sooner I'll find Dryer and a place to rest my head," he added as he moved to the door.

"If you can't find Dryer, you're welcome to come back here..."

"I don't think so Daniel," Jack started to say as he opened the door to leave.

"Please, Jack...just...keep the option open. It's going to be a very cold winter," Daniel insisted, a part of him not wanting to see Jack leave. He didn't know why he felt so desperate, but he did.

Jack just stared at Daniel a long moment, then gave a soft smile, "Okay, kid, I'll keep it in mind," he said, then left, closing the door behind him.

Daniel stood there a long moment, arms automatically going around himself, unsure why he felt so bad. The man made his decision, he would just have to accept it and move on.

Daniel then turned and went back into the kitchen, wrapped up what he could. He opened his refrigerator and gasped for inside was a gallon of orange juice, a bag of apples, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of grape jelly, along with two fresh loafs of sliced bread and more bagels. Daniel closed the refrigerator door and rushed to his own front door and down as fast as he could. He ran outside in hopes of catching Jack, even more determined to get the man to say. But as he looked around, Jack was nowhere to be seen; he was too late.

***********

Winter, it seemed, was going to push itself on fall with a vengeance, as the temperatures dropped, making the walk from the bus stop to his apartment harsher than it had to be. Daniel thought about stopping in at the Pachinko's or going past. He had placed a bit of distance between himself and them, not having liked their attitude towards Jack or his lack of speaking up on the matter. But he found himself going in from time to time, asking them if they'd seen the 'man' as he referred to Jack, as he knew the Pachinko's didn't really know him. Sadly the answer was "thank goodness, no we haven't."

He knew it was crazy; he didn't know the man, only really met him that one time and spent that short morning with him, but some somehow the man made an impression on him. He tried to shake it off as guilt, but when the dreams of dark amber pools began to fill his nights and worry about the temperature and how cold Jack must be, filtered into his day, he knew it was something more...desperation. That's how he saw it, for he couldn't figure out why Jack mattered to him so much. He even went so far as to go back to the house he had last seen Jack and the others, but didn't go in, as it now belonged to the gang, as was evident by the boys that hung out on the steps outside.

Daniel knew he had to accept the inevitable, that his desire to have Jack around was just pure loneliness and that Jack had moved on. There had been no sign of the man since he left that morning two weeks ago. He knew tonight would be no different, and decided to forgo stopping by the little general store and head right home. He arrived at the same time Mrs. Wenchick did, a fifty-three year old woman who could be as moody as the weather at times, pulling her two-wheeled cart of groceries behind her. "Evening Mrs. Wenchick," Daniel smiled at her, and only got a grunt in return. "Would you like to me to get that for you?" he offered, and saw that had earned him a smile.

"You're a good boy, Daniel," Mrs. Wenchick beamed and released the cart and headed upstairs. She also lived on the forth floor where she had lived over twenty-five years. Rent control had allowed her to stay where she was.

Daniel shifted his backpack and grabbed the two-wheeled cart and started to pull it up the small flight of stairs outside and into the narrow lobby, and then began the long climb up, wishing the place had an elevator. The house was never designed to have one nor would Mr. Trevino shell out the cost to remodel the place to put one in, for it would mean an entire overhaul, and it wasn't really worth it.

Daniel was huffing and puffing by the time he got up to the fourth floor and wondered how in the hell Mrs. Wenchick would have managed. He figured she had to be a heck of a lot more fit than she appeared for a five foot two old woman, or she was going to wait until someone came along and helped. No way to live, he thought, but was just glad he was on the top floor and rolled the cart into her apartment just down the short hall from him. "Here you go," he puffed.

"Thank you, Daniel, I hate bothering Mr. Trevino, but an old woman has to do what she has to do," she smiled. "Would you like some blueberry pie for your trouble?" she offered.

"Oh, that's kind of you, but you don't have to," Daniel said, holding his right hand on his right side as it was cramping on him.

"Nonsense, I'm an old woman, I have plenty of time to bake. You go to your place and I'll bring it over in a few minutes after I get the groceries away," she smiled and went about doing just that.

Daniel slowly headed down to his place and unlocked his three locks and headed inside, glad he could afford to keep the heat on now, though he still had to watch his budget very carefully. He plopped his backpack down on the sofa and hung up his coat. He removed his scarf and gloves before going to see if there were any messages...there were none.

Daniel went about his business, placing the books he used for his tutoring away as they changed from day to day depending on who he was tutoring and what language the student was learning. He then strolled into his kitchen and stared at the inside of his refrigerator as if something would jump up and say "Hey, eat me!" but nothing was looking very appealing. When he heard the knock on the door, he closed it and went to let Mrs. Wenchick in. When he opened it, his eyes bugged out and his jaw hung opened at who was leaning on his door jam, "Jack!"

"Sorry to bother you," Jack started to say then went into a coughing fit.

Daniel didn't need to be a doctor to see Jack was hurt, badly hurt and he looked sick. "What happened?" he asked, as he reached out and gently but firmly helped Jack lean on him and led him to the sofa. "Should I call an ambulance?" he asked, as he was worried at how ill Jack looked.

"No, just a cold and a few cuts and bruises..." Jack said then winced as he sat down, "perhaps some bruised ribs too," he smirked to cover the pain he was in.

Daniel helped get the long dirty overcoat off Jack, noticing how much in pain he was, and then ran to get a warm wet cloth and a towel along with his first aid supplies. Sadly it was not as much as he wished as he hurried back and knelt before Jack and started to wash away the dirt to see the bruises and cuts better. "Tell me what happened, Jack," Daniel said firmly as he needed to know, so he had some idea how hurt Jack was.

"Dryer is dead," Jack said flatly, and then coughed hard, wincing in pain as he did.

"Dead?" Daniel said, snapping his eyes up at Jack in a mix of horror and surprise, wondering if Dryer was responsible for this.

"I finally found him down by the docks, he likes to go there a lot. Things were a bit rough since Owens was the one who usually handled him. The other night, he started getting mouthy with some other guys while I was picking us up some food. I returned in time to see all hell break loose...Daniel...he killed a cop," Jack said, the weariness and remorse clear in his voice. "If only I..." he closed his eyes and this time the pain that crossed his face was not from his ribs but guilt.

"You had no way of knowing what was going to happen," Daniel said softly, still washing the blood and dirt from Jack's face.

Jack gave a small sigh. "The second cop on the scene was going to shoot Dryer, but was too slow, Dryer pounced on him and snapped his wrist clean, then was going in for the kill...I had to stop him...I...I had to," Jack explained softly, then swallowed hard.

"He didn't take well to that, did he?" Daniel prompted, feeling it would be best if Jack talked about it, as he started washing his hands, knuckles scraped and bleeding and bruised as well.

"No," Jack said, then coughed some more.

Daniel stopped what he was doing and rushed to get some water, wishing he had some cough medicine. Even though he had a lot of allergies, he didn't catch a lot of colds so he didn't have the need to keep cough syrup on hand. He grabbed the pain reliever on his way back and in moments was again kneeling in front of Jack, brushing his long bangs out of his face, "Take it easy, here," he said offering the water.

Once Jack could relax, he sipped the water and then took four pain pills, as he was hurting and then finished the water, "Thank you," he said softly.

"So, you two fought..." Daniel prompted, taking a towel and padding the knuckles on Jack's right hand dry as they were injured the most.

"It got crazy, Danny," Jack sighed, lowering his face into his left hand, "I'm guessing the cop got his gun and used his left hand...the next thing I know, I'm laying on the ground, and Dryer is dead on top of me."

That was when Daniel noticed bloodstains on the overcoat, but the dark material had hidden them at first. "Oh Jack," Daniel gasped, seeing the pain of remorse and regret.

"I should let you know, Danny, I didn't stick around, I got the hell out of Dodge," Jack told him, his dark eyes searching Daniel's wondering how he would react. "I was afraid they might pin the dead cop on me...I've heard of things like that happening, but...I didn't want to take the chance..."

"Don't worry about it," Daniel said, running his hand through Jack's long mop, trying to soothe him. "Let's just get you into a hot bath and soothe those ribs and get you feeling better," he stated, wondering just how bad off Jack was and if he would be able to convince the man to see a doctor.

Jack had another coughing spasm as Daniel helped him to the bathroom and had him rest on the toilet as he got the tub water running. He went to get the same pair of sweats he gave Jack the last time he was there, having found them folded on the sofa along with the blankets and sheets. He rushed back in and placed them on the sink along with some towels when there was a knock on his door. "I'll be right back," he told Jack, seeing the man struggling to get his clothes off, his movements hesitant because of the pain he was in.

Daniel hurried to his front door and opened it to see Mrs. Wenchick there with a pie in hand and a small carrying bag. "I heard you coughing, young man," she said as she moved right inside. "You should have said you were sick," she softly chided.

"Oh, it's not me, it's my friend Jack. He's running a fever and has a terrible cold," he replied without thought.

"Oh, I didn't see anyone come up..." Mrs. Wenchick stated, as she laid the blueberry pie down on the small coffee table Daniel had and then handed Daniel the carryall. "Two cans of chicken soup and some homemade cough syrup, soothes and fights the congestion...better than any of that hog-swill you'll find out there," she stated firmly with a smile. "You give your friend some soup and two tablespoons every four to six hours, depending on how bad he's coughing and let him sleep," she said, turning to make her way to the door. "If he starts getting worse, you just let me know, I've got lots of old fashion remedies that work better than any of those new-fangled items they try pushing on us old folks," she said over her shoulder, then gave Daniel a smile and showed herself out.

Daniel came back in time to see Jack, towel around his waist, trying to get into the tub. "Here, let me," he said, then helped Jack; even if the man protested...loudly, Jack didn't do anything to really stop him. Once Jack was in the tub, he shut the water off and brought over the shampoo and conditioner and a washcloth, "Do you need help?" he asked sincerely.

"I think I can get it," Jack groaned, as he reached out and took the washcloth and grabbed the soap.

Daniel only nodded and waited, taking a moment to eye Jack's body to see how hurt he was. He could see the large bruise on the right side of his rib cage and mentally cringed, as that had to hurt. He also noticed other bruises, but the one on the ribs appeared to be the worst. Jack also looked flushed with fever, his body probably in shock after all that happened and fighting a bad cold.

Once he was convinced Jack could manage, even though his movements were slow, Daniel went and stripped his bed and remade it so Jack would be comfortable. He then gathered some extra sheets and blankets for himself to sleep on the sofa. He knew Jack would protest, but the man was sick and needed to rest and with those ribs...well, he'd make Jack take the bed. Then Daniel went and got the carryall and pulled out the two cans of chicken soup, placing one in the pantry and then opened and started to heat up the other. He got more water, the pain reliever and the homemade cough syrup Mrs. Wenchick brought and placed them on the nightstand close to where he figured Jack would sleep...after all, he slept on the right, he figured Jack would as well.

"How you doing in there, Jack?" Daniel called out; feeling that all was done that could be at the moment.

"Oh...slow," Jack replied.

Daniel came in and saw Jack had not gotten very far. "Let me help," he said softly.

Jack didn't care for it, but he felt filthy and sick and wanted to sleep, but he wouldn't lay down on Daniel's nice sofa without a proper bath first...he owed the kid that much. "Okay," he sighed.

Daniel wasn't concerned if his pants or shirt got wet, just rolled up his sleeves and took the washcloth and slowly and gently washed Jack from thigh to toes and waist to neck. "You want me to wash your hair before or after you take care of the rest?" he asked.

"Before," Jack said, trying not to fall asleep, though a few cough spasms helped him stay awake.

"Oh, Mrs. Wenchick from next door heard you coughing and brought some homemade cough syrup. Since I don't have anything else, I can't see it hurting. You want to try it?" Daniel asked as he got up and grabbed a small cup size bucket he used to hold odds and ends in for the bathroom. He dumped them on the counter and rinsed it out, before kneeling down beside Jack again. He started using it to soak Jack's long hair.

"Sure, why not," Jack replied, finding Daniel's touches soothing and comforting, then he had another coughing spasm.

Daniel decided not to wait until Jack was out of the tub and got the jar holding the golden thick liquid and spooned out a tablespoon as directed and gave it to Jack followed by a second one. "There," he said, seeing if Jack was going to be okay.

"Has honey in it, that's for sure," Jack said, smacking his lips gently, aware of the light split on the bottom one.

"Well, I just hope it works," Daniel said as he closed the jar and put it aside. "I also have some chicken soup you can eat before going to sleep. Help you fight that cold of yours," he smiled.

"Regular mother-hen," Jack teased.

"No, Mrs. Wenchick brought it and told me to give it to you, but she's right. I also have an ace bandage to wrap your ribs...should help a bit," Daniel replied.

After getting Jack cleaned up and changed, Daniel took on the protest from Jack about the bed with ease, getting the man in and under the covers. Daniel immediately put a tray on Jack's lap so he had to eat. He was happy to see Jack did eat it all before falling asleep, still propped up. Daniel couldn't help the grin on his face as he slowly removed the extra pillows so Jack could lie properly, seeing the man so relaxed and safe. It mattered to him greatly that Jack was safe and he was sure with some time, Jack would be well soon too. He pulled the blankets up and tucked Jack in, resisting the urge to place a kiss on the man's temple, then blanched, for it was the first time he realized he found Jack attractive.

Shutting off the light and closing the door, Daniel headed to his living room and paced. He knew there was something about Jack that mattered to him, even though he had had a boyfriend or two in the past, he didn't think it was that. That was the LAST thing he or Jack needed. "Okay, so he's attractive, so what?" he said in a hushed voice to himself. "Means nothing. He's a good man and in need of a friend...that's all he needs, that's all I need," he added, feeling good on his resolve.

"Good," he said, after a long moment, then went to close his place up for the night and get ready for bed. He relaxed now that the moment of crisis was over. Jack was just a friend, nothing more...no worries. The fact that he dreamed of Jack meant nothing, as he didn't really recall the details in the morning

********

Jack was rather beside himself. Had he not been sick and hurt, he wouldn't have come back to Daniel's place, but he had been and he did, and so far he had been here five days. Though he griped and bitched a lot, Daniel never lost his gentle manner towards him or that happy glow about him when he came back from his work at the University. He was glad he was still there.

Jack knew he should just pack up what little he had, but kept putting it off, telling himself he would just wait until his cold was completely gone or his ribs fully healed, but deeper down he knew he rather liked being here. He liked seeing that smile on the kid's face and he LIKED being wanted. So, he continued to stay, though as of last night he had moved to the couch, insisting Daniel have his bedroom back. He even went as far as to threaten to leave if Daniel protested, which after hearing that, the kid didn't say a word.

Today he was feeling a bit better. Part of the reason he was so sick, besides just the cold, was his withdrawal from all the alcohol he had been drinking. As he had told Daniel before, some days he was good, other days the memories returned like a knife to his gut and he needed something to keep away the pain and make him forget; drinking usually did that for him. Today was not such a good day and Daniel had nothing in the place to drink, so, using what little bit of money he had saved up, he headed out and got a bottle of scotch, recalling the looks the Pachinko's had given him while making his way up to the top floor. Normally it wasn't an issue, for he kept himself rather fit for a homeless bum, usually challenging Dryer to some competition of pushups or something...but his ribs and his chest being congested from the cold were making things slow going.

He rested on the third floor landing for a moment, his fingers rubbing against the material of the long wool coat Daniel had picked up for him to replace his old one, which had to be burned. They both worried about the blood being found on it, though as far as either he or Daniel were able to tell, there was no report of anyone looking for him. Jack gave a tiny smile, feeling gratitude and annoyance, for he loved the warmer coat, but knew Daniel was struggling with his finances and now had another mouth to feed, even if Daniel said it was no problem, Jack couldn't help but feel it was.

Getting his breath back, Jack continued up the last flight and saw an older woman, who by Daniel's description had to be Mrs. Wenchick, trying to manhandle two garbage bags to the garbage slot. "Can I help you with that?" he asked. He frowned when he saw the older woman startle at his appearance and take a step back. "You look like you could use a hand," he said again, keeping a distance as not to alarm the woman.

"Who are you?" Mrs. Wenchick demanded.

"My name is Jack, I'm a friend of Daniel's. You were kind enough to give him that homemade cough syrup for me...thank you," Jack smiled sincerely. "Worked great."

"Oh...you're...you're Jack?" Mrs. Wenchick said, eying the scruffy man before her. Then she relaxed, "Well, if you're a friend of Daniel's then you must be okay," she replied, having decided Jack was no threat. "I'd appreciate the help," she then said, letting Jack take the larger of the two bags and walked with him to the garbage chute at the end of the hall.

"Out of curiosity, Mr....er.."

"Jack if you please," Jack said, not wanting to bring up his last name if he could help it.

"Jack," Mrs. Wenchick smiled. "How are you at fixing things?"

Now that was a question Jack had not anticipated and arched a brow, "Depends, though I have been known to be a bit handy at times. What seems to be the problem?" he asked, curious as to what the woman wanted.

"Mr. Trevino is a good man, but still a cheapskate, even at the best of times. I have this drip in my kitchen faucet that is driving me insane...Do you think you can take a look at it?" she asked, I've asked Daniel, and though he's a bright boy, brighter than most, he's all thumbs," Mrs. Wenchick chuckled warmly. "There are mostly old folk or kids living in this place; and hardly anyone knows anything about fixing things...outside of simply getting a new one, and I can't afford that."

"Well, I'd be glad to take a look, Ma'am, but I don't have any tools," Jack told her honestly.

"Oh, I have plenty of those from when my dear Winston was alive. Man loved to fix things...reason my place has held up as good as it has, but he's been gone six years this coming winter," Mrs. Wenchick said, as she stepped inside her apartment and let Jack follow. She showed him to the kitchen where the dripping was very obvious.

Jack went underneath and turned off the water and went to get the toolbox where Mrs. Wenchick said he'd find it. He brought it back to the kitchen and in moments saw the problem. "It's a simple fix, you need a new washer and this little rubber piece is shot," he told her, showing her what was wrong. "I'm not sure where the nearest hardware store is, but it wouldn't cost much to get a new one and I'd be glad to replace it for you," he smiled.

"Oh dear, I'm not sure either," Mrs. Wenchick groaned.

Jack could tell the woman's nerves were on edge, "How long has it been dripping like this?" he asked.

"I don't know, weeks...months, feels like forever," she replied honestly.

"Hmm, just a moment," he said and headed out and back to Daniel's apartment. He didn't think the rubber part would cost that much, he still had a few dollars, and he could give them to Daniel so he could pick up the part and he would replace it later, as for now he was going to use Daniel's good one to give Mrs. Wenchick some peace and quiet.

Twenty minutes later, Jack turned on the water in Mrs. Wenchick's kitchen and showed her the leak was gone. "There you go," he smiled, feeling good that he was able to do something for someone today.

"You're a genius in your own right, Jack," Mrs. Wenchick beamed with happiness. "Where did you get the part?"

"I borrowed it from Daniel's kitchen. I'll give him the money to buy a new one tonight and replace it in the morning. One night of dripping won't kill anyone," he smiled back.

"You know anything about bathrooms?" Mrs. Wenchick asked, a gleam in her eye that made Jack shiver, suddenly realizing his afternoon was going to be busy after all.

********

Daniel hobbled into the bathroom, the light still on from earlier and tossed the dirty clothes he had in his hands into the laundry basket. He caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror and noticed the shiner he was now sporting. Slowly he brought up his right hand and fingered gently around his eye and then leaned on the sink in despair, wondering how in the hell he got into this mess and if he should cut his losses while he still could.

Yesterday had been a good day as far as Daniel could recall, and he had really been thinking that things would only be better, he never imagined...he looked in the mirror again as he turned on the cold water. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked himself, the accusatory undertone clear in his mind. He cupped some of the cold water and splashed it on his face, not only to soothe the deep bruise, but to clear his head. He then shut the water off, grabbed a clean hand towel and sat on the toilet drying his face carefully, as he recalled the events that led up to his current situation. ***

He was running late by an hour as he climbed the steps of his apartment and fingered the key to unlock his door. The first thing that hit him upon entering was the smell...Jack had been cooking again, and Daniel absolutely loved it. "If your wife thought it sucked, she was a chef's daughter or needs a taste bud transplant," Daniel muttered to himself, as he closed the door behind him. "Jack, I'm home," he called out.

"I'll be out in a few," Jack called out from the bathroom, the door not fully closed, but enough for privacy.

Daniel went into the kitchen and snuck a peek into the pots and pans and found Eggplant Parmesan, asparagus tips freshly steamed, a delicious smelling sauce in a smaller pot, and Linguini, being kept warm in another. Daniel was sure he gained five pounds just drooling over it. "Looks great," he called out. "I see you've been busy."

"You don't know the half of it," Jack called back. "I ran into Mrs. Wenchick this morning and long story short, she talked me into helping her fix a few things in her apartment."

"Ah...she tried to get me to help, but..."

"All thumbs, I know, she told me," Jack said, his laughter ringing down the hall. "Turned into an all day affair. I made a list of parts she was going to need and she gave me some money to get them. Gave me some extra for my trouble....got some food and a few...other items," Jack said, his voice drifting closer.

Daniel opened the refrigerator and gaped at the groceries, then looked at the pantry and saw it was stocked half way with cans and boxed goods. "Wow," he gasped.

"One thing I learned on the streets was how to stretch a dollar," Jack said as he entered the kitchen.

"If so, then how come you got the expensive cigarettes..." Daniel started to ask as he turned to look at Jack and froze. There before him was a six foot two sex machine, tall, muscular and lean, as seen by the clean black T-shirt and jeans that hugged his hips just right, along with a semi-long hair cut and clean shaven face that deep down he knew would be staring in all his wet dreams for sometime to come. "Jack?" Daniel gasped; glad he wasn't holding anything for he knew for sure he'd have dropped it by now.

Jack gave a bashful smile and rubbed a hand over his clean shaven chin, "Well, as I said she gave me some extra and I didn't like how I scared her in the hall, so I thought I'd get a haircut and shave, oh, and I stopped at the thrift store and picked up a few extra clothes," he said, gesturing to his attire.

"Um...nice...ah...you look..." Daniel fought himself from saying, gorgeous, sexy as hell, and be mine, so settled on, "real nice. You're looking good today too," he added, finding some source of calm to drawn upon.

"Thanks," Jack replied, not really looking at Daniel as he moved to get the plates. "I noticed that on that one channel you get reception on, since you don't have cable, there's a hockey game on, do you mind if we...watch it over dinner?" he asked, while dishing out the food on to the plates.

"Ah...no. You a hockey fan?" Daniel asked, going to the living room to remove the books off the coffee table and get his tiny TV set up for the game.

"Yeah, played it as a kid all the way up to high school. Some days I think I would have been better off taking the scholarship to College instead of going to the Air Force Academy," Jack replied, his thoughts a million miles away as he spoke, so his guard was not fully up.

"You were an officer?" Daniel asked, catching the part about the Academy.

"Was a lot of things another lifetime ago," Jack said, carrying out the food and placing it down on the placemats Daniel had gotten and laid out.

Daniel heard the unspoken 'change this subject' tone, he got a lot from Jack, but he didn't mind, so long as the man spoke to him. "I'll get the drinks," he said, heading back into the tiny kitchen.

"Oh, I don't know much about wine, but I picked you up a bottle, the clerk at the story said it would go with tonight's meal," Jack called out over his shoulder.

Daniel opened the refrigerator and smiled. It would go with the meal, but was far from the best choice, but it was the thought that counted. He opened it and grabbed two glasses but noticed that Jack had a glass of scotch already, the bottle on the table already half gone. He didn't have anything against alcohol itself, but something inside made him frown at seeing the already half gone bottle...but yet he said nothing.

Daniel sat down, enjoyed his meal, his wine, Jack's enthusiasm for the game, which made Daniel confess he knew nothing about; by the end of the night he probably could have matched hockey info with...the average watcher, but it was enough to make Jack happy, and for some bizarre reason, seeing Jack happy, made him happy.

The evening ended with Jack passing out from exhaustion and the other half of the bottle of scotch in his system. Daniel had tucked him in, and then cleaned up. He knew Jack preferred to do it, as he said that he'd pull his own weight around the place while he was there, but Daniel didn't mind, then he went to his bed looking forward to a goodnight sleep...that didn't happen.

"GET AWAY FROM ME MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Daniel snapped awake to the sound of the loud shouting, only taking a second to realize that the voice belonged to Jack. He jumped out of bed, not thinking, and headed down the hall, as the shouting turned to Arabic, which surprised Daniel greatly. The foul curses and anger scared him as he moved closer and noticed Jack was not on the sofa but in the far corner of his room, huddled and to his surprise, holding a gun. "What the fuck!" Daniel gasped, for he didn't know Jack had a gun and feared for Jack and at the moment even a little for himself. "Jack," he called out, but he could see Jack was not looking at him, still in his dream or flashback.

Daniel had read how soldiers have flashbacks to overly traumatic experiences, and by the sounds of the anger, curses and pleads he could piece together that something horrible had happened to Jack. The scars he saw on the man's body now made a lot more sense too. Not sure what to do, he moved slowly towards Jack, calling his name and reassuring him he was safe, though inside Daniel began to shake. When Jack snapped his head around to look at him, the dark eyes scared him to the core; there was such anger and hate in them, directed at him. "It's me...Daniel, please, Jack, you don't want to hurt me, please, put the gun down, please..." he begged, feeling his gut clench with fear as Jack started snarling obscenities at him in Arabic.

Daniel debated whether to reply in Arabic, and then thought better of it, as he wanted Jack back to the present, not facilitating his nightmare. "Jack, please, you're in New York, Brooklyn," he said, moving to the floor on to his knees, so he appeared less threatening and hoped it helped. "Jack...put the gun down, you're safe," he said again softly, noticing how his hands shook as he rested on them and crawled forward, little by little, glad to see Jack taking longer pauses in between his shouts of fury and rage.

It looked like for a moment that Jack had understood what was happening as he lowered his gun and closed his eyes, his breathing heavy, his body sweating. Daniel was less then a foot away from him and went to reach for the gun, feeling it would be better if Jack didn't have it, when suddenly the gun was up and in his face, aligned with his nose. Daniel could feel his heart freeze, his whole body tensing with fear, but the greater fear was for Jack, and it propelled him to speak. "Jack, it's me, Daniel, you don't want to hurt me, do you?"

Jack's eyes lost the hate, but they still looked clouded and uncertain. Then his face grew soft, "Charlie?" he asked, and gave a tiny relieved smile. "You're...you're alive?" he asked, the hand with the gun beginning to shake.

"Jack...the gun," Daniel said, fear overcoming him, as he saw Jack's hand shaking and saw his finger was on the trigger. He then saw Jack notice the gun for the first time and his face filled with horror as he threw the gun away as if it were burning his hand. He reeled into on himself, as a wail of grief followed, and Jack began to rock back and forth, the sorrow and grief crystal clear upon his face, though no tears fell.

"Jack..." Daniel tried to say again, but Jack only rocked, calling out to someone named Charlie and how sorry he was. Unsure what else to do, Daniel moved next to Jack and pulled the man to him and was pleased that Jack curled into him and accepted his warmth and comfort. Daniel sat there with Jack, holding Jack as the man rocked in his arms, saying soothing nonsense, until after who knew how long, Jack finally fell back into real sleep again.

Daniel's body ached and he knew he had to get Jack to bed and deal with the gun, but first he had to slide out from underneath Jack, which he managed, but sadly Jack woke up. "Sorry," he said softly.

"What...how..." Jack was groggy and confused.

"Let's get you to bed, Jack," Daniel said softly, as he reached over, once he himself was standing, and helped Jack to his feet.

Jack moved towards the sofa and began to sit down when he saw the gun lying on the floor and it all came crashing back in on him, making him jump to his feet. He turned to Daniel with horror in his eyes, "Please tell me I didn't hurt you?" he begged, while scanning up and down Daniel's form to be sure he was alright.

"I'm fine, Jack, you scared me, nothing more," Daniel said gently. "Jack...about the gun...where...?"

"It was here already," Jack said, wrapping his arms around his chest, feeling disgusted with himself. "I found it under the sofa, secured there...I take it that you didn't know about it."

"No, that sofa and half the furniture was already here when I moved in," Daniel said, wondering what other surprises were laying around that he didn't know about.

"It's not loaded," Jack muttered, moving into the kitchen and grabbing the rest of Daniel's wine and gulping it down.

"Not...not loaded?" Daniel asked, not sure if he was relieved or angry, for he had been scared shitless.

"I...I didn't know what you wanted it for, but I...I know...the bullets are in the coffee can, in a plastic bag," Jack muttered, finishing off the wine, hoping the lesser drink would help calm his nerves.

"I don't like guns, Jack," Daniel said, feeling anger bubbling up inside, but trying to calm himself as he realized Jack had not meant to harm him or this situation to come about.

"Me neither," Jack said, moving to the leaky kitchen sink, reminding himself he needed to fix that tomorrow...today, sometime soon, and turned on the cold water and splashed his face with it. "I'll get rid of it if you like, or you can...recommend off a bridge, since it has my fingerprints on it," he said, then put his whole head under the cold water, only then feeling a bit better.

Daniel carefully picked up the gun and found a dishtowel from earlier, still in the living room, and wrapped it up and placed it behind some cushions on the chair, not wanting to deal with it just yet. "What happened, Jack?" he asked, wanting some idea of what he had just experienced. "You were first shouting in Arabic...I didn't know you spoke Arabic, then you called me Charlie..."

"You never asked me if I spoke other languages," Jack snapped, his hair dripping as he stormed into the living room and started gathering his belongings. "As for the rest...it was a nightmare...a bad one," he said, picking up the duffle bag he had bought, feeling it would come in handy, and started shoving his stuff inside.

"Where are you going?" Daniel asked, suddenly realizing that Jack was packing.

"I told you, Daniel. I'm no good around people. One-two, days at most, then the shit hits the fan..." Jack stated, while searching for a few other minor items.

"You've been here for a week, Jack, and this is the first thing that's happened," Daniel protested, not wanting Jack to leave. "Why don't you just tell me what happened and what to expect, so I know how better to deal with it in the future...?" Daniel pleaded.

Jack stopped and faced Daniel, "You don't need this shit, Danny. You have your whole life ahead of you. Face it, I'm fucked up, have been for a while now. I can't control when the flashbacks to that hellhole will show up, I could hurt you, Danny...I don't..." he turned and pulled the bag closed, the moved to get his coat.

"You didn't hurt me, Jack," Daniel insisted, stepping in Jack's way. "You knew, on some level, you knew it was me, you wouldn't hurt me."

"You don't know that...I don't know that," Jack said, and swiftly, but without pain, grabbed and maneuvered Daniel out of his way. He grabbed his coat and headed to the door and started opening the 'million' locks Daniel had on the thing. "Look, I appreciate all you tried to do for me, but...it's just not going to work," Jack said as he started out the door and down the steps.

Daniel ran out the door and saw Jack barreling down the steps and felt the desperation overwhelm him because he didn't want Jack to leave. He didn't care at that moment if it was pathetic of him, it was what he wanted and so flew down the steps, hoping his desperate mind could come up with something that could get Jack to turn around and stay.

Jack was on the second floor landing when he heard the thump, the cry of pain not that far behind him. He turned and saw the body tumble down the stair and slide the rest of the way. "DANNY!" he called out in fear, uncaring if it was the early AM, and dropped his bag and rushed to Daniel's side. "Danny," he said, carefully checking the younger man over, noticing nothing but a bruise on his face, but his heart wouldn't stop running a marathon in his chest, as he checked for broken bones. "Daniel, speak to me, please," he begged, his heart only slowing a bit when he didn't find anything broken.

"Don't...go," Daniel said in between moans of pain.

Feeling even guiltier, Jack simply agreed, he wouldn't go. He very carefully carried Daniel upstairs to his bed then returned to get his own bag. He locked up and then returned to tend to Daniel, getting an ice pack for his face and helping him get ready for bed. Hours later he finally went to sleep himself on the other side of the bed.

*** Daniel got up from the toilet and opened his medicine cabinet and grabbed the new bottle of pain reliever, and took a few, knowing how he was going to ache even more throughout the day. He was covered in bruises from his pathetic effort to keep Jack from leaving. He wished he could hide the shiner on his face and hoped no one would think Jack did it, for the man, no matter how ruthless he probably could be, would never harm him. His gentleness last night clinched that in Daniel's mind. He only wished it hadn't taken such an act of stupid desperation to get Jack to stay. He didn't think Jack would think too highly of him if he knew Daniel fell down the steps on purpose, hoping the 'injured man' routine would work...and it did. Now, he would have to decide...let Jack go, or milk his guilt for all it was worth.

Daniel turned off the light Jack had left on from earlier, and headed back to his bed, where Jack was twisting in his sleep, the guilt pouring through him. Daniel slid into bed, and couldn't help it, as it had worked before, and reached for Jack. The moment he touched Jack, the man rolled over into him and curled up...and became still. That simple act is what sealed it for Daniel...Jack needed him. If he needed to use guilt to make the man stay until the man could see for himself he belonged here, he would...whatever it took, he would do. With his mind made up, Daniel shifted down in bed, Jack curled up next to him and fell asleep, a protective arm around Jack, never letting him go the entire night...both men slept in peace.

**********

October was even more bitterly cold than September, but Jack had spent many years in Minnesota so he wasn't bothered too much by it, especially with the nice coat Daniel had gotten him. That gesture along with all the other honest, compassionate gestures were wheedling under Jack's defenses, and his own guilt over what happened to Daniel, getting hurt on the stairs because of him, didn't help guard his heart much either.

Jack had settled into a small routine, working around Mrs. Wenchick's place, after coming to an agreement on labor and hours in exchange for cash under the table. That was how it started, but soon others were coming asking for Jack to fix this or that, and Jack didn't mind the money one bit, as it helped him pull his share around the apartment so Daniel didn't have to do it all. It also kept him busy, and not around a lot of people, most allowing him to work in peace...this he really liked, for people reminded him of his past and that was something he was trying hard to forget.

Then around four o'clock on Fridays, Jack would go down to the corner store to the Pachinko's, as a favor to Daniel, and pick up the care package Mrs. Pachinko would still make for him. Daniel explained how he still tutored their son, not wanting to back out of his agreement, but felt...two-faced about not telling them how bothered he was at how they treated Jack. The hemming and hawing after he said that made Jack laugh, Daniel suddenly realized who he asked to get the box. Jack just brushed it off, wanting to help Daniel any way he could, and in truth he didn't mind one bit.

Friday at four o'clock arrived and Jack was about to enter the Pachinko's store. He had been there twice already to pick up the care packages for Daniel. Daniel had gotten Mrs. Pachinko down to one care box a week but she wouldn't hear of anything less. The Pachinko's treated Jack nicely though they didn't really know who he was. Jack figured he had more than enough time to get the box, get home, put things away and meet Daniel downstairs where he would carry his book-bag up. The thing was very heavy and Jack still felt guilty for Daniel was still very sore after that fall a few weeks ago. He was glad the bruises were almost gone. Jack was just grateful nothing was broken, and carrying a few books so Daniel could make the trek more easily to the apartment was really nothing. Besides, he felt out of shape and could use the exercise...it was partially true, and what he told Daniel.

"Afternoon," Jack said as he entered the small store and was greeted warmly by both Mr. and Mrs. Pachinko, though he refrained from the hugs Daniel would get when he was here.

"You are a very punctual man, Jack," Mr. Pachinko chuckled. "I could set my watch by you or just use you instead."

Jack gave a small smile, seemed some military training was still at work. "Save you five bucks," he joked back, getting a few chuckles.

"I'll have it for you in a minute," Mrs. Pachinko said, then went behind the deli counter and went about finishing up her projects.

Jack moved aside as the door was opened again, and a man, probably homeless like he was not that many weeks ago, came in and grabbed a bottle of cheap wine and a pre-made sandwich. He watched the scowls cross both Mr. and Mrs. Pachinko's faces as the man went about his business then came up to the counter and paid for his items in full and left.

"I think we should raise the price of the alcoholic beverages," Mrs. Pachinko grumbled, as she carried two small boxes with her to the front. "Might keep that kind from coming in here," she added. Then she smiled at Jack, "Here you go. One for Daniel and one for you Jack, you're such a good young man," she said while handing the boxes over.

Jack looked at them in his hands, the top one had his name on it and he was going to just take them, but he recalled how Daniel felt and realized he did too. "Tell me something?" he asked, his voice even. "Do you recall a man that came in here several weeks back, beard, long matted brown/blonde hair, always got a bottle of scotch, cigarettes and heat up noodles?"

Mr. and Mrs. Pachinko thought a moment, and Mr. Pachinko nodded. "Yes, thank goodness he moved on. We don't need his kind here," he added, looking at his wife who nodded in agreement.

"So, you figure he's not worth...say, this?" he picked up the care box with his name on it.

"No, they only want drink, drugs, and smokes...why waste good food on bad rubbish?" Mrs. Pachinko replied.

Jack just nodded and placed his box down on the counter in front of her and moved to the door. "I'll take Daniel his, I'm sure he'll be happy with what you made him," Jack said and started to open the door.

"Wait, Jack, your box..." Mrs. Pachinko said, picking it up and handing it outward towards him to come get.

"Mrs. Pachinko, you said that man wasn't worth your food, why should my having a bath and a hair cut make a difference now?" Jack stated calmly and left, smirking after the door closed having seen the stunned expressions on their faces.

Jack was walking up the block that led home and saw three very large teenagers, gang members by the colors they were all wearing, picking on a much smaller kid who was no more than 13 years old. The boy was trying to protect the remains of his ripped open backpack, which Jack could see was done by the teens. As he approached the base of the steps that led to the small sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he could see the fear on the smaller boy's face and hear the words of the others, taunting him....this didn't sit well with Jack one bit.

Jack placed down Daniel's box down on the steps to the side, and then started toward the small group, "Hey!" he shouted, to get their attention.

The kid who was probably leading this small bunch, not the leader of the gang, looked up, his caramel complexion paled by the winter light. "Bug off old man," he snapped. "This is none of your business, unless you're looking to get hurt," he grinned, then shared a look with the other two and they all laughed.

Jack looked at the boy in the center, "You want to go home?" he asked, and saw him nod, though his head was bowed and his yellow/black knit hat covered his head so little was seen of his face. "Then go home," he said, taking another step closer.

The small boy tried to go but one of the teens reached out to grab him and he winced. Jack grabbed the teen's wrist and lifted it up, "Go," he said and saw the boy run fast and furious into the building next to his, then turned to face the teen, not releasing his wrist. "You have enough playmates, leave the kid alone," he stated evenly.

"Look old man," the punk snarled, moving into Jack's space. "You want trouble, you've got some."

Jack reached up with his left hand and removed his sunglasses, a habit he developed from his time in the military and still had, and lowered them, and giving the punk the same glare he gave new recruits and the enemy. It was a mess-with-me-and-die look, where anyone with any sense of self-preservation knew to take seriously. It seemed the punk had one after all as he slowly backed up, his mouth running about how the 'old bone bag' was not worth his time. Jack just kept up the look and watched them leave.

Jack turned to go when he was sure the punks were far enough to no longer be a concern and noticed a math book on the ground. He picked it up and opened it and saw it belonged to a Joey Waters and figured it was the kid's. He then looked up and saw Daniel hurrying toward him. "Daniel," he smiled, having not replaced his glasses, so he knew Daniel could tell he was glad to see him, which he was.

"Are you okay? I saw you and those...ah...guys..." Daniel asked, eyeing Jack to be sure he was all right.

Jack laughed, "Those punks don't concern me. They were harassing another kid, I thought it best they play with themselves, if you know what I mean," he chuckled. "Oh, here," he said, going and getting the care box and handing it over to Daniel and taking Daniel's bag despite Daniel's protest.

"Jack..."

"Ack, please. I need to return the kids book, but I want to run an errand first," Jack told Daniel.

"Then let me get my..." Daniel tried to say, but was cut off.

"No...my job," Jack protested, lightly slapping Daniel's hand when he tried to reach for the bag. "You go upstairs and figure out what you want for desert. I have dinner planned, just have to finish getting it together...go...shoo," he smiled, as he gently shoved Daniel toward the steps to the apartment building.

Daniel grinned, for he found that no matter how irritating Jack could be, on some level he rather liked it. Jack was a mother-hen, which didn't amaze him as much as he thought it would, having seen how he tried to take care of Dryer and Owens. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going," Daniel gripped, but couldn't stop from smiling. He was so happy Jack was there.

Jack watched Daniel go inside and then headed around the corner to a thrift shop where he had gotten a lot of clothes for himself. It always amazed him the name brands one could find if they bothered to look. He picked up a new backpack, in excellent condition, and then headed to the building he saw the kid go into. He looked on the mailboxes and saw Waters apartment B-2. That suited Jack because he didn't relish a long climb, he still had one of his own to make.

Once outside the door he knocked politely. "Who's there?" a woman's voice called out.

"You don't know me, my name is Jack, I..."

"We don't want anything, go away," she snapped through the door.

"I'm not selling anything. I'm returning your son Joey's math book," Jack replied and then was a bit startled by the quick opening of the door and the chain lock that wouldn't stop him if he really wanted inside that apartment.

"Why do you have my son's book?" the woman asked, but didn't wait for a reply. "Give it here," she demanded and snatched it from him.

Jack could see Joey hovering in the back, looking scared, but remained silent.

"I also have..." Jack sighed and closed his eyes for patience as the woman slammed the door in his face. "Very nice folks here," he muttered under his breath. He knocked again, "You forgot something," he said, biting his lip to keep any other comment from slipping passed.

Once again the door snapped open, "What?"

"Here, Joey will need this," he said, handing her the backpack and then started to leave.

Jack was two steps down the stairs by the time she had the chain lock off and stepped into the hall. "What is this? My son does NOT need charity, Mister," she growled.

"It's not charity, Lady," Jack snapped back, not able to hold his tongue much longer. "His pack is in shreds thanks to those punks who were harassing him. He needs SOMETHING to carry his stuff in, unless you want him to use a garbage bag. If you don't want, throw it out," he growled and turned to continue his descent down the stairs.

"Wait...what do you mean, punks harassing him?" she asked, this time concern overshadowing her animosity.

"Didn't your son tell you? I found three gang members harassing him, saw they damaged his bag, that's how I got his math book. It was in the street," Jack replied, and some of his own anger leaving when he saw the fear in the mother's eyes.

"I ah...I guess...thank you is in order," she said, at a loss for words. "Um...what did you say your name is again?"

"Jack, I live next door on the forth floor," he replied. "Look, ah..."

"Monica," the woman replied, feeling ashamed at how she acted moments earlier. "I'm sorry...I mean...well, you get a lot of wackos around here and..." she sighed. "Thank you."

Jack nodded, "No problem. If Joey comes home around this time normally, I'd be glad to keep an eye out for him."

"That's ah...very kind of you Jack, thank you," Monica Waters said, holding the backpack to her chest, feeling awkward.

"Okay then, good night," Jack said and then left and hurried next door. He was barely inside when he was met by a large man, about his height, burly and smoking a cigar.

"You Jack?" the man asked, his Italian accent thick.

"Ah...yes. Can I help you?" Jack asked, not sensing any danger from the man, but was cautious nonetheless.

"I've heard you've been doing a lot of fixing around my apartment building," the man said.

Jack then knew this was Mr. Trevino, the man that had been kind to Daniel when he needed a place to stay. "Yes, but if you wish me to stop..." he started to say, not wishing to cause Daniel any trouble.

"No...I wish to offer you a job," Mr. Trevino replied, removing the cigar from his mouth. "A little chat with Mrs. Wenchick, the women likes to talk," the slightly older man chuckled, his belly shaking to show it was not all muscle. "I'll supply the parts...but there'll be a budget, so be selective on what you do," he quickly added, "You supply the labor. In exchange you can have apartment S-2. It's small but good enough for one person, free of rent and four hundred a month...under the table, since that's how Mrs. Wenchick said you prefer."

Jack was a bit stunned by the offer, but not too stunned to not think on his feet. "I like where I'm living now. I'll accept your offer, but the free apartment goes for the one I'm sharing with Daniel...agreed?"

Mr. Trevino thought a second, puffed his cigar then nodded. "Daniel is a good kid. Okay, deal. You can start Monday, so any side projects you have...ah...going, finish up. Then the rest has to come through me, understand?"

"What if they're not in the budget...and they're willing to pay...?" Jack asked, for he didn't think the budget would be very much and from what he was seeing there was a lot of work to be done around this place.

"Just don't let me hear about it," Mr. Trevino said, and then gave a good-natured smile and headed down to the sub-basement where he lived.

Jack grinned, feeling rather great and rushed up the steps and inside, almost colliding with Daniel. "You are NOT going to believe this, but I got you free rent," Jack panted out, grinning ear to ear.

"Free rent...Jack...how...what?" Daniel asked, but could see how happy Jack was and couldn't help but grin in return.

Jack put the book bag down and removed his coat. After catching his breath, he went into the kitchen and began to cook dinner while explaining all that happened to him today. From the extra jobs he got for this week and how he needed to finish them over the coming weekend, to Mr. Trevino(,) and Joey and Monica Waters, and then the Pachinko's.

"You should have seen their faces," Jack chuckled, and then noticed Daniel wasn't smiling. "I didn't link anything to you. I said you would be grateful for the box....ah...did I..." he went silent. "I'll apologize if you like," Jack said, not a man that did that a lot, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause Daniel trouble. He could swallow his pride; besides he didn't have much of that left anyway.

"No, I don't want you to apologize. In fact, I should apologize to you. I should have said something earlier. I should have..." Daniel was feeling ashamed.

"Hey," Jack said, reaching out without thinking and lifted Daniel's chin with his left hand, the other holding a knife and some green pepper he was dicing into the sauce he was making. "You have NOTHING to apologize for. You were and ARE in a tough situation, Daniel. It's easy to have ethics and morals when you have a roof over your head, food in your stomach and a safe place to be..." Jack replied.

"You know that's a poor excuse," Daniel said, folding his arms around himself. "People deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, it's their basic right. I'm not talking authority respect...that's something different, just a basic right of respect...I mean..." Daniel was getting flustered.

Jack smiled, for he really liked this kid...guy. "Yeah, Daniel, I know what you're talking about, but that's not the reality of it, is it? Ideally if that were true, we wouldn't have half the problems we do in the word, but..." Jack shrugged. "They are basically good people, Daniel, that have a few issues...I don't know anyone who doesn't...except perhaps you," he snickered.

Daniel was quiet for a long moment than then laughed, "I'm sure I have my share too," he confessed. Then Daniel went to get the plates and stuff to set up the coffee table that doubled as their dining table. "So, you work as a handy man and..." Daniel asked, wanting to change the subject, still feeling a bit out-of-sorts not having spoken up himself to the Pachinko's.

"Well, I get four hundred dollars on top of it, between the two of us, I figured..." Jack shrugged, paying attention to his cooking and not Daniel.

Daniel smiled. "Perhaps after dinner we can sit down and work out the bills and things...you know, so things are even," he suggested, seeing how proud Jack was that he was now able to pull more of his share of the financial load around the place.

"Sounds good, but..." Jack said, looking knowingly, "I want to know how much you've already spent on me...I may not be able to pay it off all at once, but if we add a bit more to my side of things...then, well..." he didn't like owing people, and felt he owed Daniel a great deal.

"You're covering rent, that's quite a sum, I'd say..." he thought long and hard, rounding up on purpose, "Four months, that would cover all I spent and some," he stated, knowing it was probably less than two, but he really wanted Jack to stay and the man had a sense of honor; a rarity in today's world. Daniel knew he should feel guilty using this along with his 'fall' down the stairs, to keep the man here, but Jack was looking good, smiling...happy, and Daniel couldn't help it; it made him happy too. Someday he'd make it up to Jack, he was sure of it.

Jack didn't think much on what Daniel said, he just nodded, "Okay, I'll let you work out the figures. I believe there is a hockey game on that single channel you have," he beamed, having missed watching the game over the last couple of years, but then he didn't feel good enough inside to want to...he did now.

"You know, with the extra income, we probably could get cable," Daniel suggested.

"Sweet," Jack grinned, taking a wooden spoon, that had a bit of the sauce on it, and offering Daniel a taste.

Daniel tasted it and closed his eyes, "Mmmm, I think your ex was crazy, this is great," he grinned, and looked up into warm expressive eyes that were beaming under his words of praise. For a long moment, there was nothing but those warm eyes as the world melted away...until the water boiled over and Jack turned to keep from making a mess.

Daniel shoved things around so the tiny TV was centered on the coffee table since he never watched it much, he didn't have a stand for it. He placed some phone books under it for height so they could watch it without hurting their necks.

Not too long after, dinner was served and the game was on. Daniel was learning about the game of hockey by what must be an expert as Jack was shouting out comments and how things should have gone down and why. Daniel could care less about the game, but he had not seen Jack so animated except when watching; it was wonderful, especially the smiles and the touches. Jack would grip his shoulder and shake him just before leaping to his feet as if he were at the game itself. Other times Jack would rub his hair, which slightly annoyed him, but the grin that went along with it, soothed his annoyance at Jack. Either way, Daniel was enjoying the evening very much.

After the game, the news came on, talking about the latest crime, murder, or natural disaster that was happening around the world. Jack sat back and watched, enjoying his scotch, probably the third tonight, a record low for him, and Jack found he didn't need more...he was doing good tonight. Most times he'd have five or six drinks so he would not only sleep but sleep heavily enough to keep the dreams away. He didn't like what happened not that long ago and was afraid of a repeat, but tonight he felt good.

He decided he'd had enough of the TV and leaned forward to turn it off and that was when he noticed he had Daniel's head in his lap, pillow from the floor tucked in between, and Daniel was sound asleep. Jack smiled at seeing the younger man so relaxed. He looked like a kid, though Jack knew he was a full-grown man, his face just made him look so innocent. Subconsciously, Jack brushed some of the long bangs from Daniel's face and slowly removed the half-cocked glasses. Daniel was a handsome...no, Daniel was a beautiful man, inside and out, and Jack felt moved at having that kindness turned towards him.

As Jack sat there, staring at the sleeping man in his lap, the TV forgotten, Jack also saw the sensitive, vulnerable, and needy soul. He couldn't fully understand why Daniel was alone; the man had so much to give, yet kept himself so guarded. For some bizarre reason Daniel had let him inside the walls, and Jack was suddenly humbled. He also realized he was getting a second chance at life, one that until this moment he didn't even know he wanted, but now that he had it and he wasn't ready to let it slip away. The kid needed him, but to be truthful, he needed Danny,(;) though he couldn't put words to why, he just knew he did. "I'll do my best to make sure you don't regret this," he whispered, and continued to watch Daniel sleep.

After another half hour, Jack's thoughts had roamed up and down the scales of should he wake him or not, Jack decided he needed to move and slipped out from under Daniel's slumbering form. He picked up his scotch bottle and went to take a gulp from it and then stopped. He didn't know if he could go cold turkey and just give up drinking all together, but he now knew, if he were going to give this a real shot, he needed to cut back. This wasn't the military where he had help when he kicked the heroin habit he was forced to have when imprisoned in Iraq, he couldn't afford to lose it all together. He would NEVER hurt Daniel...he'd leave before he did that, even if there was still hurt, emotional hurt is easer to overcome than physical he figured; he'd just never do it. Jack then turned and placed the bottle away in the kitchen and then came back out, turning the TV off. "Danny," he whispered shaking the young man.

"Jack?" Daniel said, blinking trying to focus his tired mind.

"Time for bed...you're sleeping in mine," Jack smirked.

It took a second for Daniel to comprehend and then leapt up, "Oh...oh, sorry," he said feeling self-conscious. Then he ran a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts.

"No problem," Jack chuckled, gathering his blankets to make up the sofa for himself.

"We'll need to get you something better to sleep on, I mean, it's a nice sofa, but..." Daniel said, not sure what he was saying.

"I don't plan on hauling up a sofa bed four stories in that narrow hall. It's probably why the other owners left this," Jack replied, knowing there was the other hidden garbage he had tossed out as a reason too.

"Oh...yeah," Daniel nodded.

Jack could tell Daniel was out of it. "Come on, Danny, bed time," he said, gently marshaling the other man into his bedroom, then to his bed. "Beddy-bye," Jack smiled, helping Daniel into bed, pulling off his shoes and pants. "Time for all good archeologists to get some beauty sleep," he teased, pulling the covers up and tucking Daniel in. The exhaustion of the past few days had caught up on the younger man. "Night, Danny," he whispered, turning the light off.

"I'm glad you're here," Daniel muttered half asleep already.

"I'm glad I'm here too," Jack replied and closed the door to let the man sleep. He then went to his made up bed and laid down, "Glad, I'm here too," he agreed after some thought and closed his eyes and found peaceful dreams waiting for him.

***********

The routine that had developed between the two men was comforting. Daniel got up, however reluctantly, to find coffee and toast waiting for him so he had something hot in his stomach before heading off to work. Jack then would go about the few basic chores around the apartment before tending the huge list Mr. Trevino gave him of things needing to be fixed. As Jack suspected the budget was small, so Jack had to be creative so he could fix more of the problems the tenants were dealing with and not use his budget up too quickly. So far the folks were impressed with their new handyman, and Jack was rather impressed with himself. By late afternoon, Jack made it his business to tend to whatever outside work that might need to be done or the small yard the place had, so he was outside as the kids were coming home from school. After a week, the gang kids stopped hanging around the block, and this pleased Jack a great deal, and others, though they didn't know why the kids left or who to thank.

Daniel would come home around 4:30, choosing to skip lunch so he didn't have to travel the city in the dark, and began to see Jack out in the street with the kids, teaching them the 'rules' of hockey...in their case street hockey. It was great. By Halloween, when he came home, he was not surprised to see the building decorated for the holiday and Jack sitting on the front step helping out kids with their costumes, though they would not be going Trick-or-Treating as was custom in the old days; The city was not safe for such things, instead going would go to the school where they would celebrate with games that gave out candy for trying and more candy for prizes.

"Hey," Daniel said, taking a seat next to Jack as he helped a kid with his goalie mask. The fake knife showed the kid was not pretending to be playing for a team but was dressed as the murderous lunatic that was all the rage.

"Hey," Jack grinned, "All set, but remember, don't hit anyone with that thing and take OFF the mask when it gets dark, so you can see better, okay?" Jack advised and then watched the kid run off to join his friends and the other parents that were walking their kids to the school that night no comma to keep them safe.

"You coming, Jack?" one of the women shouted from across the street, her son dressed as a vampire, and her daughter a ballerina.

"Nah, wouldn't want to show all the kids up and win their candy," Jack teased back with a wave.

"You've become rather popular," Daniel teased, though he suddenly felt a wave of jealousy as well.

"I wouldn't go that far," Jack said, pleased to see the kids, but the ache inside was still there for his own son and if he had not promised to help the kids with their costumes he'd be inside right now hiding inside a bottle of scotch. He had done so much better at not drinking so much, but he was feeling the draw tonight. "Let's go inside," he then said, his smile fading as he turned away and headed inside, grabbing Daniel's book-bag out of habit, and headed up the stairs.

Daniel was caught off guard by the change of mood and wondered what was wrong with Jack. As he trailed the other man, he realized he had known the man for over a month and still didn't know his last name. It seemed no one knew but no one cared, as Jack just danced around the issue with a smile or change of topic. He waited until they were inside and the door closed. "Jack, I've been thinking...I don't even know your last name," he said as easily as he could.

"Does it matter?" Jack replied, dropping the book-bag on the chair by the door and then went to get the bottle of scotch he had purchased the other day.

"Don't you think it's a bit early..."

"DON'T," Jack snapped, not wanting Daniel to lecture him about his drinking. He'd cut way back, but today was not a good day, regardless of the smile he plastered on his face moments ago. "Just...don't," he said, then turned his back on Daniel and opened the bottle and gulped down some to take the edge off. He could then feel the tension in the room, and knew he'd put it there. "Today's not a good day for me Daniel...I'm sorry," he said and then took his bottle and moved to the sofa and stared at the much larger TV, which was now hooked up to cable, and took another drink.

Daniel had noticed how Jack cut way back on his drinking and thought he was doing so well. It pained him to see him backslide like this, but he could also see there was something else going on too. He removed his coat and hung it up and then went to get himself some coffee. He saw that dinner was done, only needing to be warmed up. Jack was spoiling him over the past few weeks, but he could sense there was something else at play here. Once he got his mug he sat down next to Jack, who was just shrugging his own coat off. "I'm sorry..." Daniel began, not meaning to upset his friend.

"O'Neill...with two L's," Jack muttered, then sat forward; the bottle held between his two hands, his head bowed. "Jack O'Neill."

"It's nice to meet you, Jack O'Neill...with two L's," Daniel, replied warmly.

Jack couldn't help the smile; Daniel could always chase the demons away with such ease. He looked up and then reached out a hand as to shake Daniel's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Doctor Daniel Jackson," he grinned, and the two men shook hands, and then laughed.

Seeing Jack was fighting something, but obviously not ready to talk about it, "I'll go heat up dinner, looks great. There a game on tonight?" he asked, figuring there had to be something, since they had all those sports channels.

"Not really," Jack said, knowing he'd been hogging the TV since they got the cable. "Want to see if there is a movie or something?" Jack asked, wanting to be fair to his roommate and friend.

"Sounds good," Daniel called out from the kitchen.

Jack grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV and started surfing the channels. Quickly moving past any sports event. He stopped on something, the flare of lava spouting up catching his attention. Then he noticed it was a National Geographic presentation on Volcanoes. He was about to change the channel when Daniel came out and oohed like a small kid, and knew his roommate was hooked and by default so was he.

The show was followed by a special on King Tut, which really made Daniel thrilled, but then less than half-way through, Jack got a surprise as he watched Daniel shout at the TV, correcting their information, fuming at how idiotic this was, and how wrong that was, and how anyone using some thing or someone called Budge were first rate morons. It was the first time Jack got an impression of what he must look like during a hockey game, and smirked and sat back and watched the show...the Daniel show, the one on the TV was boring as hell.

After dinner, Daniel forgoing his books this evening was a treat, and both men relaxed on the couch, Daniel having had two glasses of wine, Jack only one more glass of scotch and a beer. Their feet were up on the coffee table and paid little attention to the fact at how they both drifted from the outer region of the couch to the center, shoulder to shoulder, entranced by the flickering light of the screen.

The early news rolled its credits and Jack and Daniel both reached for the remote control, their hands grasping the other's instead. Both men laughed and turned to see the other was so close. Jack nor Daniel would be able to tell who made the first move, but suddenly they were kissing, their lips moving tenderly over the other's. Then their bodies twisted and arms wrapped around each other as the kiss fired up and passions began to flair. Before either knew what was happening, Daniel was straddling Jack's lap, devouring his mouth, as Jack's strong hands were roaming up and down his body, one hand squeezing his butt the other undoing the buttons to his shirt. Daniel's hands were also undoing buttons, wanting to touch Jack's skin. Soon Daniel's hands were caressing a firm muscular chest, the light dust of hair felt good under his palms, as he moved to rub Jack's nipples, receiving a deep moan of delight from his soon-to-be lover.

Feeling skilled hands on his chest and the electric fire at Daniel's touch, Jack broke the kiss, not only to breathe but savor the feeling flowing inside him. His mind was fogged with lust and desire, so when he looked all he saw was a sexy, beautiful man, his shirt open revealing his perfect lean chest, barely any hair, and pink rosy nipples begging to be sucked. He leaned in and took Daniel's left nipple and began to suck on it, bringing his hands around and caressed up his back, drawing him closer.

Daniel groaned with delight as Jack took his nipple with determination, and slid his own hips in, his crotch making contact with the hard groin beneath, and both men hissed at the sensation. Jack then went back to sucking his nipples, moving between the two, keeping a firm hold on his waist, Daniel began to writhe under his ministrations, unconsciously performing a lap dance on the man beneath him.

Then suddenly it stopped as quickly as it started. Daniel was panting, finding his hips held in a vice like grip, and Jack's head bowed, his chest heaving. "Jack?" he asked, hoping and praying Jack was not regretting this...please don't let him regret this!

Jack then looked up, his eyes black as midnight, "I do not want to come in my pants," Jack panted. "And not on the sofa," he leered, his eyes drinking in the sensual creature before him.

Daniel grinned ear to ear, Jack wanted him, really wanted him. "No...but how about the bed?" he suggested, feeling bolder than he ever had been with a lover. Jack brought out a part of him he didn't know existed, the part that wanted to be sexual, sexy(,) and pleasing to his lover. He reached up and removed his shirt, not really knowing how his movements were driving Jack insane...but he found out, as Jack grabbed him and began to kiss him within an inch of his life, while standing up, and carrying him to the bed room...whoa, talk about a major turn on for Daniel. He'd been with a men before, but it was NOTHING like this...his Jack was a force of nature and at the moment that force was all HIS!

Daniel was then on his back, in his bed, with a ravaging animal bent on taking him, claiming him, and he couldn't have been happier about it. At this moment, whatever Jack wanted was more than okay with him, and told him so. "Take me," he panted out, then groaned with desire as Jack nipped and licked over his body, leaving love bites wherever he went...Daniel was loving it. He'd never felt so wanted or desired as he did that moment.

Jack's mind was on fire, his body demanding its mate, wanting to claim him, possess him. Before Jack's brain even fired another brain-cell, he had two fingers inside Daniel's ass, stretching him open. He leaned up and saw the sexy young body before him, covered in sweat and little marks where he had bitten and saw the fevered bliss on that sweet face. "Like this?" he purred, his own cock pressing hard against his pants. Having managed to get Daniel undressed but not himself...yet.

"Yes..." Daniel panted. "More, Jack...please...more," Daniel said, his head twisting on the pillow, his hands clenching the sheets.

"More what, Danny. Tell me what more do you want?" Jack asked, his face smug with satisfaction that he brought Daniel to this stage...his Daniel to this stage, looking so beautiful, so wanton, so sexy and needing HIS touch.

"You, I want you inside me, Jack...please...fuck me, please Jack," Daniel begged, his body on fire and aching for the release he knew only Jack could give him.

"You got anything?" Jack asked, a bit of sense sneaking inside his fevered brain.

"Drawer...old, but still good," Daniel replied. "Please...hurry."

Jack shifted, but had to pull his fingers free to the disappointment of Daniel to reach the drawer and found the lubricant and condoms that would be needed. He then shucked the rest of his clothes and opened the condom. "Put it on me," he ordered, handing the free rubber to Daniel. He took pleasure seeing Daniel's fingers shake with desire as he rolled the rubber over his hot, hard cock, and then had to close his eyes and focus on control at the sight of Daniel placing a small kiss on the tip of his penis, then lay back and lifted his legs up and open.

Finding the strength needed, Jack then opened his eyes, the sight of Daniel holding himself open for him, motivated him to hurry. He placed the lube on three fingers, wanting to be sure he didn't hurt Daniel, that promise still full in his mind as he worked that hot hole open. He then placed some on his cock and then slipped it in, slow and easy, using the discipline he'd learned over the years to keep himself under control. He'd pleasure his Danny, then he'd fire his cum inside him. A part of him wished he didn't need the condom, but he wouldn't risk his new lover for anything, especially for a moment of selfish pleasure.

Daniel was filled with Jack's cock and he reveled in the feeling of being filled, for it felt as if Jack was merging with him and his soul soared, as did the fire within him. "Take me," he shouted, wanting Jack to make him his. "Make me yours Jack...please," he begged.

"You are mine, Danny, all mine," Jack growled, and almost savagely took Daniel's mouth with his own, fucking it with his tongue as he moved in and out of Daniel's ass with the same rhythm, taking, claiming, possessing.

When air was needed more than kissing, both men broke the hold and their focus was then only on their lower bodies merging, Jack's cock shifting in and out of Daniel's ass, and Daniel pushing back to meet Jack's cock, pushing him deeper inside, forging a deeper connection. Soon Jack's rhythm was becoming erratic, he was getting close. He reached up and grabbed Daniel's hard, and leaking cock in his right hand, and began pumping it. "Cum for me, Danny," he ordered. "Fucking cum for me," he growled.

Daniel couldn't do anything but what Jack ordered, not wanting anything else but do as his lover requested, and his body exploded not only at the touch(,) but Jack's deep husky words and command...He was Jack's and he knew it, and now his body knew it too, as he came, his cock pulsing his cum all over Jack's hand, chest and face.

Jack felt and saw Daniel's body pull taunt, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut, his kiss-swollen lips open in the perfect O...making Jack want to slip his cock between them. Jack also felt the muscles in Daniel's ass clench his dick and the vision of loveliness and the tightness was enough to pull him over the edge, and he too began to cum, "DANNY!"

Daniel felt Jack's body lying heavy upon him, and loved it. With only a tiny shift, which was all he could manage, for he felt like pure butter on a summer day, he was very content and sated; he wrapped his arms around Jack and held him close. He didn't know what was going to happen next, he only hoped Jack wouldn't regret what passed between them, for he sure didn't. He had known he was attracted to Jack, and now he knew Jack felt the same way. Though in truth, he knew he was falling in love with Jack, but he learned long ago, you never pushed for more than you got, for then you would lose it. He didn't want to lose Jack...or this, whatever this was. He felt Jack shift, after his cock slipped out. He then looked to see groggy and sated brown eyes looking at him moments after Jack had disposed of the condom, and could see the hesitation. Not sure what to say and not mess things up, Daniel leaned in and kissed Jack with all he had left. The smile he got was enough to let him know he did good. "Happy Halloween, Jack," Daniel whispered.

Jack had been unsure how Daniel would react. He didn't even stop to think if Daniel had been with a man before, only taking the sexy man and making him his. He laid there looking at Daniel, who looked even more beautiful, finding the thoroughly fucked look good on him, and waited. When he saw the warm, sated and happy blue eyes turn to him, he felt a bit better. But when Daniel kissed him, he knew everything would be okay. He wasn't sure what was happening between them, but he hoped Daniel wouldn't push it...just let things happen. He heard Daniel's words and smiled, "Happy Halloween, Danny," Jack sighed, and then closed his eyes, letting the feeling of happiness overtake him...for it had been so long since he felt like this and before he knew it he was asleep.

Daniel heard the soft snore and chuckled, not insulted in the least that Jack had fallen asleep after their...union. He wanted to think of it as love making, but that would be pushing it and again, he didn't want to do that. Whatever there was between him and Jack he wanted and wouldn't rock the boat over something as simple as 'clarification'...at least not today. Daniel laid there deciding if he should get up and clean the both of them off, but fell asleep before he could contemplate his choices further. His body made the decision for him. It was the best night of sleep that either man had in what felt like ages.

*********

Daniel sat on the narrow ledge, that was as close to a window seat as he had in his apartment, and looked out. He took note of the light snow that was falling; the snow on the ground being kicked up by the November winds added to the view. He looked down to the street, which held the most important thing in his life - Jack. He grinned, feeling his heart and soul light up at seeing the man he KNEW he loved mingling in the streets with the local kids, teaching them street hockey because there was no ice yet. They acted like they were all Jack's kids. Daniel tilted his head a bit upon that thought and knew, that in a way, they were...all Jack's kids, as they were all special to the man, as he had become special to them.

Content to just sit and watch the big kid at heart, Daniel had to force himself to move away from the widow and gather the thermos of hot coffee he was making for Jack. He had been working around the building, prepping it for the harsh winter that he was sure was to come. Daniel had learned it was best not to argue with the man when it came to weather; Jack had a sixth sense about it. Daniel went to get his coat and gloves before heading down. He had the day off because the University closed one day before the public schools for the Thanksgiving break. It was the reason why all the kids were gathered down below with Jack. Jack promised to send them all off with a bang...a hockey game bang, and all the parents who could come were gathered to watch as well. The street was closed off as a favor by the local police department, thanks to Mr. Trevino.

Daniel headed down the stairs, feeling as if he was as light as a feather. In fact, he had felt that way all month, ever since they first made...well, became lovers. It was too soon to think more, but Daniel was happy, and he could see Jack was too. There hadn't been a nightmare in a long time, and Jack slept even better in his arms, which to Daniel was proof there was at least something good between them.

Once outside, Daniel made his way down the clean path, Jack having taken care of it with a proper know how, clearing a few others, some with pay, others because they needed it. Daniel felt himself beam with pride at the good man he had fallen for and again, felt blessed. "Hey," he greeted and handed over the thermos to Jack.

"Just in time, Danny. The Red Rovers and the White Rabbits are about to go head to head," Jack panted. He had rushed to set everything up, making sure everyone was wearing their safety equipment, which had been donated by a local sporting store, and though used, worked well.

Daniel chuckled, more so at Jack's red face, having rushed around and the weather was cold, and Jack's breath was like smoke as it puffed out. "Who chose the names, Jack...you?"

"I most certainly did not," Jack said as if offended. "The teams did, and I'm told by Pricilla Drake that White Rabbits may look all fuzzy but are truly nasty if you make fun of them," Jack said in mock seriousness, causing Daniel to burst out laughing. "Seriously, it's going to be a good game, now if only Joey would hurry up, we'd get this party started," Jack said, as he opened his thermos and sipped right from the container. "Mmmm, you make the best coffee," he smiled as he capped the thermos, and without thinking, planted a quick kiss on Daniel's cheek.

"Jack..." Daniel started to say, but Jack winked at him and headed back to the group of kids that were calling for him, and Daniel followed.

"Can we start now, it's cold?" Little Timmy Mathews whined, all bundled in his hooded down coat.

"We're waiting for Joey, he's your team captain," Jack said, and then looked up and around because Joey was late. He saw some of the few parents that were home at this time, either out of work, or off early or due to holiday, coming to watch the big event. He then looked at his watch, a cheap one he picked up at the thrift store, and was a bit concerned. He also saw the parents wanted to get things started too. "Okay, we'll get started, Tommy, you'll have to captain until Joey shows up," Jack stated, and was drowned out by cheers as all the kids heard was they were starting the game.

The game was going well, both teams as evenly matched as Jack could get with little practice and know how of the local kids. He suspected the girls were just as good if not better at the sport than the boys, with few exceptions. Jack played referee and kept it fair and fun, or they sat out, as fun was the point of the game. Then Jack purposely called the game when it was a tie, stating time was up. Even though the kids whined a bit, the parents were very pleased, and Daniel was even more proud. In fact, he stood there wondering why Jack wasn't a father because he was so good with kids, "The big kid himself," he muttered warmly to himself.

Daniel helped Jack pull in the two nets to be stored in the basement of the building, and noticed Jack was distracted. "Something wrong?"

"Joey Waters never showed up and I'm a bit worried. His mother is due back soon, and I said I'd keep an eye out for him as it was an early release day..." Jack explained, then locked the basement door and looked at Daniel as if looking for ideas of what to do. "I was thinking of heading to the school, to look for him..."

"Why don't I go with you?" Daniel agreed, knowing that Jack was concerned, and though not related or officially the boys sitter, he cared and wanted to take some kind of action. He saw his words pleased Jack by the warm smile he got with a half hug.

"Come on," Jack said and led the way.

"You know where he goes?" Daniel asked, unsure of where the local school was around here, as he himself only traveled to and from the bus stop, and only when he had to.

"Yeah, Franklin Middle School, few blocks down," Jack nodded, brushing some of the show(snow) out of his golden honey hair, now a bit damp, then putting on a wool black cap, he neglected to put on earlier. "Joey's in eighth grade there," Jack added.

"Speaking of Joey, have you decided if you wanted to accept Monica's invitation to Thanksgiving dinner or not?" Daniel asked as they moved out of the small yard of their apartment building and across the street. Daniel saw Jack withdraw a bit and figured Jack was not inclined to go for some reason, and didn't want to say he didn't want to go, so..., "I was kind of hoping for a small dinner together, myself," he added, hoping that would help matters and not make it worse. By the relieved look in Jack's eyes, Daniel figured he did well.

"Yeah, I was kind of leaning that way too," Jack replied.

Daniel had come to know that even though Jack was a man to speak his mind, he didn't speak his heart, or any deep emotion. Jack was a man of actions and he showed how he felt, be it with a smile, a touch, fresh coffee in the morning, to being met at the bus stop with an umbrella and a hot thermos when it rained unexpectedly. Daniel may have been a man of words himself, but he had found in his short life that they could be quite hollow, and though he did long to hear Jack say how he felt, he had little doubt of what that would be, by what he did for him. "I'll let Monica know we have other plans," Daniel said, knowing Jack would probably prefer that.

"Thanks," Jack said, and then looked up smiling...but the smile faded as his eyes shifted quickly away into the distance.

Daniel turned and saw a group of teens rushing off, and by the jackets and colors, knew they were part of the same gang that had once tormented their block, and had been the ones to take over that abandoned house where he'd met Dryer and Owens. "Jack..." he began to ask, but then he noticed Jack had started running so without hesitation ran in pursuit of Jack.

Daniel was only seconds behind Jack, so as they both turned the corner, he saw Joey on the ground, blood pooling underneath, his body covered in dirt and bruises. He saw Jack pale and drop to his knees, a deep painful wail escaping his lips. "I'll call an ambulance..." Daniel started to say, and began to turn.

"NO!" Jack snapped. "We need to get him to a hospital, not wait for help," Jack growled, as he gathered the beaten boy's body into his arms and stormed passed Daniel into the street, literally daring the car that had been turning to hit him, and making them stop. "This boy needs to get to the hospital," Jack said, his tone commanding and brooking no argument from the man behind the wheel, who reached behind him and unlocked his door.

Daniel was torn between the horror of seeing Joey so pale and hurt, and Jack, so withdrawn and angry at the same time. He could feel the rage and fear radiating from Jack; and something inside him feared it. "We should have waited for an ambulance," he heard himself say, not sure why.

"The cop's average response time is fifteen minutes, about the same for EMS, and with traffic and snow, it could be worse. No, we need to get him to the emergency room...crap," Jack growled. "You should have gone to get Monica..."Jack went silent, closing his eyes to reign himself in...withdrawing more. Then he opened them and looked at the boy hurt boy in his arms and pulled him closer as if willing his own life force into the boy.

The driver didn't say much, and thankfully knew where the nearest hospital was and took them to the emergency entrance, where Daniel rushed in to get some help. Jack entered moments later with Joey in his arms, and was met by an orderly and a nurse with a gurney, where he laid the boy down. Jack was held back by Daniel as they wheeled Joey off to be treated; Daniel already explained that his mother needed to be contacted. Daniel then led Jack to the men's room. "Go wash up, I'll call Monica," Daniel said, glad he knew the number from Jack. He was also glad the pay phone was nearby so he could keep an eye on Jack or at least watch for him to exit the washroom. Twenty minutes later and Jack still had not emerged from the washroom.

Daniel walked in and felt his heart break, as he found Jack sitting across the way, his back to the wall, his face buried in his hands. "Jack..." he said softly, moving to help Jack stand, and was a bit taken back when Jack looked at him with anger in his eyes.

"Leave me alone," Jack snapped.

"Jack?" Daniel didn't understand what was going on. "I know you're upset..."

"Upset? Why should I be upset?" Jack growled as he got to his feet. "Why should I care if some...brat...gets himself killed," he added, moving to finally wash his hands and face, to remove the blood still there from holding Joey so tight.

"Jack, please," Daniel said softy, and went to place a hand on Jack's shoulder only to have Jack pull away.

"Leave me alone!" Jack shouted, and then stormed out of the bathroom.

Daniel, hesitated a few seconds, not sure why Jack was acting this way, but decided to go find out why and followed. To his surprise, Jack was not in the waiting area, so he moved to the exit doors and stopped in stunned silence to see Jack getting into the back of a cab, not bothering to wait for him; not that he would go with Monica on the way and Joey hurt. "Son of a bitch," he growled under his breath, shocked and angered that Jack just took off like that. Deep down he knew there was a reason, but he was dammed if he knew what that would be.

Daniel went back into the lounge to wait for Monica Waters to show up or word from the nurse or doctor on the condition of Joey. He found it hard to sit, so he paced a little, staying off in a far corner so he didn't annoy the other people who were probably waiting for word on the condition of a loved one. As he paced, Daniel recalled that Jack had mentioned someone named Charlie...he didn't know why, but for some reason, he had a gut feeling it was relevant, but couldn't put the pieces of the puzzle together.

As he continued to pace and think, a familiar voice echoed into his ears and he looked up to see Monica had arrived. He was surprised at how much time had passed with him lost in his thoughts. He went over to greet her and was stunned as she fell into his arms, an emotional wreck. Considering why she was here, he could understand. He felt torn though. He wanted to be here and help and find out how Joey was, but he also needed to go find Jack. The fear that Jack might take off again was beginning to fill his heart; he didn't want to lose the fragile happiness he had found with the strange(,) beautiful man. Jack may have been a mystery to him on many levels, but he was no stranger...at least not as far as his heart and soul were concerned, and it was on this basis alone, he wanted...no needed to get back to him. He couldn't just walk out though and leave Monica all alone when she desperately needed support.

Daniel looked up as the nurse that he remembered taking care of Joey came looking for Mrs. Waters, and Daniel found himself holding his breath.

***********

It was cold, bitter cold, and with each step it became more bitter and colder. He was tired, hungry, and most of all broken hearted. Daniel wiped the tears away from his cheeks, some small nagging voice saying if he didn't they'd freeze on his cheeks; he knew better, but he wiped them anyway. He had rushed back from the emergency room as soon as he was able and found Jack and his duffle bag not there, some clothes and a few hygiene products missing...Jack was gone.

Desperate to find him, Daniel had asked around, but no one had seen him, but all had heard about Joey Waters' accident...assault, he corrected them. Then he moved on and spoke to others with no luck. He even went to the Pachinko's, having not seen them in a while, and was pleased to hear their concern for Jack and that it was sincere. He also noted that when some of the transient or homeless men came in, they were not treated with such distain anymore. Daniel couldn't help but feel a touch of pride that Jack and his little 'speech' had reached the couple and made them rethink their actions. It also hurt his heart that Jack was not around for him to share this information with.

When he couldn't find anyone who had seen Jack leave, he went back and on a desperate hunch, called cab companies to see if anyone had been called. Most said no, a few wouldn't say, so either way he was out of luck. Not knowing what else to do, Daniel bundled up and headed out. He went to the same ally he first found Jack, where the gang now stayed, wondering if Jack would do something stupid and try to take them on, but from a distance, it looked calm and Daniel was not that stupid to force his way in there and ask. He then recalled Jack mentioning a few locations some of the homeless would go when it was cold like this and so he went in search of Jack, spending hours and money in his hunt for his missing lover, and came up empty on all accounts.

Daniel had just enough money to take a bus back, the last bus that would take him back to his apartment, as it wasn't home anymore...Jack was gone. Jack, who made the meals, kept the place organized, who made it feel warm and welcoming, just by being there. So, now he was heading back to his place, unsure of what he was going to do. He was starting to feel as numb on the inside as he was on the outside. The snow was falling again, blanketing the streets, almost making them look magical, instead of the dirty city streets they were.

"DANIEL!"

Daniel looked up and across the way, to see Mr. Ellis calling down to him from his third floor window. The man should have been born a woman, he was more of a busy body than any yenta could wish to be, yet, he was still a sweet old man, and Daniel didn't have the heart to brush him off as so many others did. "Yes, Mr. Ellis?" he called back.

"What is that crazy roommate of yours doing?" Mr. Ellis shouted down, looking a bit miffed and concerned.

Few had figured out the nature of Jack and his relationship, or no one had said anything, and neither did they. But at the mention of his 'roommate', Daniel felt his heart begin to beat faster and his body ached as it began to warm. "What do you mean? Have you seen Jack?" he asked, wondering why in the heck he hadn't asked Mr. Ellis in the first place. He mentally recalled not seeing the man at the window and didn't think more of it at the time.

"He's been sitting on that roof of yours for hours. He's going to freeze to death," the older man said, as he pointed upward.

Daniel looked up, be he couldn't see anything, but if Mr. Ellis said he was there... He didn't even hesitate to say a word to Mr. Ellis, just shot in the building and up the four flights until he reached the door that lead to the roof, a place he didn't even consider, and up as fast as his worn, and tired body would allow him. He turned around the door of the flat portion of the roof and there, sitting by the wall just around the small structure, whose sole purpose was to hold the door, was Jack, sitting on his duffle bag, covered in snow. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself, and his eyes were distant.

"Jack?" he said, moving up to him and squatting in front of him. He could tell Jack was somewhere else, and having recalled their short conversation on how to approach him if something like a nightmare or something happened again, Daniel stood up, took half a step back, and kicked him in the foot, rather hard, considering he was worried and angry all at the same time. "JACK!"

"I couldn't..." Jack said, barely acknowledging Daniel. He shook his head, then placed his face in his hands, as his body gave a shiver from the cold. "I couldn't watch another child die...I just..."

"Joey's going to be okay, Jack," Daniel told him, moving back to his original position, squatting in front and gently placed a hand on his arm. "He's going to be okay. The knife didn't hit anything vital, and we got to him in time," Daniel assured Jack.

"No," Jack said, raising his head, but keeping his hands over his face. "I saw the blood, I know what that means..." he protested.

Daniel pulled the hands down, wanting to see Jack's face, and look him in the eye. He could see the deep pain, but needed Jack to hear him. "No, Jack, he's going to be fine. He'll be home in a few days...you did good Jack..."

Jack jumped to his feet and Daniel fell back on his butt. It was so fast. "Good? GOOD! I didn't do GOOD, Daniel! I failed him. I was supposed to keep an eye on him...protect him," Jack raged. "I didn't do GOOD! I FAILED HIM. I KILLED HIM!" Jack shouted in anger, as he began to pace in the ankle deep snow that was on the roof around him.

Daniel scrambled to his feet. "Jack, you did the best you could. Joey himself admits that he should have come straight home..."

Jack wasn't listening as he paced. "I fail them all eventually. I should have known better...I should have gone to the school to pick him up..."

"Jack, you're not his father," Daniel stated, and was almost frighten by the dark painful look that he received when Jack whirled on him.

"Good thing, or he'd be dead too," Jack snapped. "I'm a menace," he said and turned his back on Daniel, his shoulders hitching from his heavy breathing.

Daniel wasn't sure if he understood what he was hearing, but he so wanted to comfort the man he loved, so went up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to be upset, Jack. Crying is good..."

Jack whirled on him again, his face a mix of rage and hysteria. "Cry?" he laughed but it sounded more hysterical then humorous. "I didn't cry for my own son when he died, why the HELL would I cry for...some..." his breath was hitching as he spoke. "...some...snot nosed...brat," he said, his body shaking with emotion and cold.

Slowly some more of the puzzle began to fall into place. Jack lost a son, and seeing Joey hurt, a boy he was responsible for, touched this sensitive spot in his soul. Lost for words, he did the only thing he could, he hugged Jack tightly, even managing to hold him as Jack tried to push away, but Daniel knew that Jack really didn't want to leave his embrace or he could have very easily done it. "I'm here, Jack," was all he said, and held the man he loved with all his might and willed the pain away.

Jack had tried to fight the warmth of Daniel's embrace, but deep down he wanted it. He wanted to feel the warmth of the man that had rekindled his heart and soul, and gave him back a reason to get up every morning and live again. Painfully slowly he wrapped his own arms around Daniel as he felt his breathing still hitching. "Charlie killed himself with MY gun," Jack whispered. "My gun..." he felt his body become heavy and he could no longer stand, he could no longer hold it all together. "OH GOD, MY BOY IS GONE," Jack wailed, the soul-deep heart break poured out of him, as years of grief and sorrow finally found release in Daniel's arms.

"I'm here, Jack, I'm here. It's okay to let go, I have you," Daniel said, knowing there was nothing else he could say or do, but hold Jack as the man finally...finally mourned the loss of his son. He didn't care that they were out in the snow or that his own knees were freezing, only that Jack needed him and he would be there for him. Soon, he'd move Jack inside, but for now, he was there, and kept watch over his love, and let him grieve.

Several hours later, Jack suddenly realized he was in a hot tub, his head resting on Daniel's chest, as the slightly younger man was caressing his hair. "Daniel?" he asked, trying to get his bearings.

"It's okay, Jack. We were both freezing and I needed to get you warmed up. I thought this would be good for both of us," Daniel said soothingly. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

It took a moment, but he suddenly recalled everything. Joey, running to the roof, and finally crying over the loss of his son, and then met Daniel's warm and understanding blue eyes and nodded. "You said Joey's going to be okay?" he asked; unaware of how vulnerable his voice sounded when he spoke.

"Yes, Jack. He'll be home in a few days," Daniel smiled warmly, and then placed a tender kiss on Jack's forehead. "Do you want to tell me what happened...to Charlie?" Daniel clarified. He wouldn't push it, if Jack said no, but they were in a warm, and safe place, and he felt this would be a good place to at least offer to listen.

Jack was going to say he didn't want to talk about it, but yet, having cried, even a little...a lot, he felt like a small weight had been lifted off his soul. He also felt he owed Daniel some explanation, and he felt safe in Daniel's arms. He couldn't recall the last time HE had felt safe in anyone's arms, but Daniel's were.

"I can't tell you what I did in the Air Force, specifically, but...I needed a gun. I had just come home from a long, tedious mission; and I just wanted to spend some time with Sara and Charlie. I went into the back yard and found him playing with a realistic gun...it was a water gun, but...I didn't want him to have it. I didn't want him to grow up..." his breath hitched as a small sob escaped.

Daniel held him and caressed his back, bringing up some of the hot water to warm his lover, and caressed his hair with his other hand. He didn't say a word; he'd let Jack speak at his own pace, if at all.

Jack was grateful Daniel was there, for he didn't think he could face this pain alone. "I got mad at him, and he with me, and he ran to his room. Sara and I talked, and I realized I had been too hard on Charlie, but instead...instead of going to Charlie, I went to Sara, to apologize for being an ass...I should have..." again, tears and a small sob came out and Daniel held Jack tighter.

Jack was no coward in the field, but he would rather face ten platoons then face his emotions, much less this pain, but being with Daniel made him want to be brave, so he cupped some of the water in his hand and wiped his face, then turned to see Daniel's eyes and saw no judgment, just tenderness, and he was sure, love. "We heard the shot...Charlie went into out room...I didn't lock the case up properly and he..." he stared to look away, but the touch of Daniel's hand on his cheek made him look back up at him. "He shot himself in the head, Danny....with MY gun. I...I killed my boy," he sobbed, burying his face into Daniel's neck and sobbed his heart out.

Daniel was no stranger to grief, or the illogical thoughts that went hand in hand with it. He knew from what Jack said that he didn't kill his son. Charlie had gone and done something he shouldn't have, and the consequences were fatal, but that wouldn't keep Jack from blaming himself. Nothing but time would help, and he would be there to do what he could, even just having a lot of hot baths and listening, he'd do it. He kissed Jack's wet hair, having already been washed earlier, and wrapped his body around his lover, and let him grieve.

After a few more minutes, when Jack calmed down, he said softly, "You didn't kill you son, Jack," getting the reaction he expected, Jack snapped his head up to look at him as if he were daft.

"I didn't lock up the case properly. I didn't put the bullets aside..." Jack protested.

"Did you tell Charlie he could go in there?" Daniel asked, knowing by instinct what Jack would say.

"No, of course not. In fact I told him over and over again he was never to go in there...ever," Jack replied firmly.

"He didn't listen, Jack..."

"I should have..." Jack tried to protest.

"Yes, you should have," Daniel agreed, and getting a shocked look from Jack at his agreement. "But Charlie should have also not gone in there and touched it. It was an ACCIDENT, Jack...a horrible, terrible accident, but an accident just the same."

"You don't understand," Jack said, moving upward, pulling away from Daniel, but Daniel wouldn't let him go.

"My parents died when I was eight," he said in reply, meeting Jack's challenging brown eyes. "For many, many years, I believed it was MY fault..."

Jack looked confused for a split second, but was able to process what was being said and shook his head, "You were eight, Daniel, how could you have been responsible?"

"They were both archeologists, and they were putting together a display of their findings here at the Museum..." Daniel began.

"You mean the one I mentioned about going to get a job at and you gave me 'that look' that translated to, when hell freezes over?" Jack asked, then it all made sense. "Oh...I didn't..."

"Of course not, and I didn't tell you," Daniel said warmly, not angry or upset for some reason. Other times this would be too painful, but for right now, it was easy to talk about, as if inside he knew that Jack would understand. Wasn't that the goal of his sharing? So Jack knew he too understood? "As I was saying, they were putting up this display. They were moving this huge cover stone, and were standing right under it, to make sure it would be placed properly. I remember, calling to them, wanting them to come see something, though I can't remember what, and my Mother and Father both told me to be patient...I sometimes still think if I hadn't irritated them, they would have been more focused and would have noticed the danger they were in...but, I also know, that I didn't do anything to cause their death...now."

"Oh, Danny," Jack said, moving back into Daniel's arms, but wrapping Daniel in his arms too.

"They are both horrible accidents, Jack," Daniel said, aware that a few tears were falling down his face. "What we did or didn't do really had little to nothing to do with it. They made their choices and they proved fatal...we grieve and we move on...what else is there?"

"Have you moved on?" Jack asked softly, forgetting his own pain for the moment.

"I have now," Daniel replied, leaning in and slowly and tenderly kissing Jack's lips, savoring the feel of his lover.

The kiss wasn't passionate, but loving. Jack rested his head on Daniel's shoulder and held him tightly. He closed his eyes and listened to Daniel's heartbeat, unsure what to say or do, but wanting to remain connected to Daniel in some way.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you on the roof?" Daniel asked, his voice low and soft, almost hesitant.

Another explanation that needed to be given, so Jack shifted so he could look at Daniel again. "I was running away from my pain. I didn't want to face what happened to Joey(,) or Charlie...it was...too much. But after I stepped outside of our apartment, I felt...torn," he said, finally looking away.

"Torn?"

"I didn't know where to go, Daniel. The only place I wanted to be was...where I was leaving...I..." Jack sighed heavily. Then he felt a hand on his cheek, his face being lifted up, and met Daniel's beautiful eyes, he could see the questions there, and knew he had to answer them. "I told you I'm terrible around people...lately. But..." he swallowed hard. "I've fallen in love with you," he whispered, then held his breath, hoping and praying the look in those vibrant eyes didn't turn cold with his confession. But as the seconds passed, those eyes grew brighter and more vibrant and the smile on Daniel's lips was all the answer he needed.

"I love you too, Jack," Daniel said, then silenced any reply by kissing Jack with all he had, and was moved and aroused by having Jack return that kiss, with all his lover had to offer in his.

Soon the passion between them flared, not only to share and celebrate the love between them, but also to celebrate being alive, which both of them needed to reaffirm. Jack had rolled on top of Daniel, uncaring if they made a mess with the water splashing, and felt the arousal of both their cocks touching, firing white lighting up both their spines, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from both of them. Their tongues danced in a mock battle of supremacy, that neither man wanted to win, as their hips ground together, as their hands touched, caressed, and grabbed the other's body, both men wanting to be closer.

"Oh Danny," Jack moaned after breaking the kiss to breathe, his hips grinding down upon Daniel's engorged cock, sending fire through his body. "You feel so good, baby," he panted.

"So do you, babe," Daniel replied, before pulling Jack down for another bruising kiss, as if he was going to eat his lover alive, and wrapped his legs around Jack's waist to pull them closer together. Then he broke the kiss, his chest heaving, "Jack..." he panted, as he was close.

Jack was looking down and saw how beautiful Daniel looked, and could feel his wonton pleasure beneath him and it tipped him over, "Danny, I'm....I'm going to..." he said, his hips continuing to buck into Daniel's cock beneath him.

"Yes, Jack, cum for me, show me how beautiful you are," Daniel ordered, and Jack did just that, his back arching his mouth open as he gasped out Daniel's name, his body shaking as his cock spurted out his orgasm. Seeing Jack cumming was all it took(,) and soon Daniel was following, his own body exploding.

Both men lay there, basking in the moment between them, the water, what was left of it, washed away the stickiness. Then it was Jack that began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Daniel asked, wondering if he had enough energy to get out of the tub, rinse off and go to bed.

"I'm wondering if any of the water we splashed on the floor leaked down to Mrs. Avery and what I'll say to her if she asked what happened," Jack said, knowing it really wasn't funny, but at the moment, everything was.

Daniel grinned, "Tell her the truth...she'll never believe you," Daniel chuckled, and then turned to kiss Jack's lips and met his gaze, suddenly feeling very serious. "I love you, Jack. I felt my heart break when I though you left..."

Jack understood, and kissed Daniel to quiet him, "I know, and I'm sorry. I promise...I won't leave again. I won't run away from us," he said, knowing in his heart he meant it. "I can't promise that I'll talk about what's going on, but...I'll try. But no more running away from us."

Daniel saw the seriousness and sincerity in that promise and nodded his acceptance of it. For in truth, he had no choice, he loved Jack, needed him and because of that love he would take him any way he could get him. "I'm glad," was all he said. "Now...let's clean this mess up and get to bed, okay?"

"Sounds like an excellent plan, Doctor Jackson," Jack smiled and helped Daniel clean them both up(,) and then the bathroom. They went to bed, feeling loved and cherished; and Jack knew then that this was his second chance, and he would do all he could not to blow it. As he felt Daniel's breath even out, he watched the younger man sleep and felt his heat flutter with love, and felt the warmth in his soul, a warmth he had not felt in a long time...like coming home after a very long mission. It was then that Jack realized he was home. His mission had been finding a way to let go of Charlie, come to terms with what happened and face living again; a mission he had been failing for over two years. With the simple, genuinely kind act of a selfless young man... an angel, he found his way, and now, he felt it in his heart that Charlie had forgiven him, and he was free to forgive himself and move on.

Jack looked up out the window and saw, even through the dark gray winter sky, a few sparse stars, "Thank you, Charlie," he whispered. "Thank you for giving me back my wings," he smiled, a few stray tears falling freely down his cheeks, his soul free to shed them now.

Jack then shifted and snuggled close to Daniel, his savior and lover, and closed his eyes, drifting in the warmth of love that surrounded him knowing he was safe, loved, and home. He knew somehow that everything would work out, and as he slept, he didn't see one of the stars twinkling a little brighter before it zipped across the heavens out of sight.

The End

Special Thank you to: Lorraine, Admiral Q O and Conner for their wonderful assistance in making this story even better.

Authors Note: The Shakespeare Quote in the story, "Lay on McDuff," IS CORRECT, regardless of popular misconception from the Scottish play and the popular use of the incorrect usage of the quote, meshing it into "Lead on McDuff" which is wrong.