The Fastest Color
written by: Sid
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Daniel reached out for his coffee cup, knocking the stapler off the desktop and onto his left thigh. “Damn!” Dropping
his pen, Daniel grabbed his aching leg with both hands. Janet had taken the sutures out two days ago, but it was
definitely still tender. Daniel exhaled slowly, gently massaging the area, distracting himself while the pain started to
subside by glancing around his office. He contemplated the two most obvious things: one, his coffee pot was empty
and two; so was his office. Jack was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Daniel looked at his watch and then picked up his
phone. Dialing an extension, he went back to examining the small green artifact he had been working on for the last
five hours. ‘Nope, still doesn’t make any sense,’ he thought.
“Major Carter.”
“Oh, hi Sam. Is Jack with you?”
“No, I haven’t seen him at all today. Something up?”
“Well, no, it’s just that he hasn’t been to my office today. Come to think about it, I haven’t seen him since the meeting
yesterday.”
“Maybe he’s in the infirmary, visiting Teal’c?”
“No, I called down there and Teal’c hadn’t seen him either. This is strange.”
“I can check around, the Colonel may be in a meeting. Want me to call you back?
“Oh, no, that’s ok, it just seems odd. But, if you see Jack…”
“I promise to have him call. How’s your leg?”
“Better, as long as I don’t drop anything on it. Never mind, just being clumsy. What about your cast?”
“Janet said I can go to just the sling next week. Poor Teal’c, I’m taking him two new DVD’s I ordered online, since he’s
stuck here for at least another week. Listen, call if you need me or if you find the Colonel.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
Daniel hung up the phone. Frowning, he dialed Jack’s office extension. No answer. Daniel chewed his lip. This was so
unlike Jack, usually Daniel couldn’t get him out of his office, now he wasn’t even coming by. Strange, and very unJack
like.
Daniel knew from Janet that Jack had stayed with his team in the infirmary for the first few days after P48-223. He also
knew it since every time he opened his eyes, Jack was just there. Reading out loud, walking between Sam and Teal’c’s
beds or just quietly sitting and keeping watch. Daniel had it on good authority that Janet had finally spiked Jack’s
coffee with sleeping meds as soon as she knew everyone was out of danger. Surprisingly, Daniel had been
discharged first followed by Sam a few days later. Teal’c had to remain due to having two broken arms and a
concussion. Daniel knew from the slight lift of Teal’c’s left eyebrow and the more than stoic silence that Junior was
being missed terribly. Jaffa do not good patients make.
Daniel thought back. Jack had been by his office Friday, and seemed fine, tossing the artifacts, bugging Daniel to
come and get pie with him. Something had happened during the weekend, because Jack had been quiet during the
meeting yesterday, ‘Too quiet.’ Daniel realized. ‘Something is going on.’
Daniel reached out for the cane leaning next to his desk and was just starting to get up when General Hammond
walked into his office. The General stopped in front of Daniel’s desk staring at the objects littering his workspace.
Daniel cleared his throat. “General Hammond?”
Daniel stopped, getting no response from the leader of Cheyenne Mountain. He slowly stood, using his cane to limp
around to the man standing in front of him.
“General, is everything all right? Is there something I can do?”
Hammond looked up at the archeologist and Daniel was shocked at the sadness in his face.
“I hope so, son. You may be the only one who can do anything.”
~*~*~
Daniel stood in the shade of the large evergreens. The wind was whistling gently through the tops and for the first
time in his life, Daniel thought the sound mournful. The sun was shining, but did little to warm him as he carefully made
his way forward, using his cane to help over the grass. He saw the solitary figure kneeling on the ground, the strong
shoulders slumped forward, grief covering the figure like a blanket. Daniel swallowed hard, eyes closing. He looked up
and slowly made his way forward, knowing that Jack knew he was there. He stopped about ten feet from
Charles J. O’Neill’s grave.
“Jack.”
Moving slowly, Daniel came up to Jack and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Minutes passed in silence as
Daniel waited. He could feel the strain in his leg, injured muscles still not quite back to normal starting to shake and
quiver from too much abuse. Daniel stood, more than familiar with the darkness of loss.
“Sixteen.”
Daniel studied Charlie’s gravestone, processing the dates.
“Sixteen?”
Jack leaned forward and placed a kiss on the top of the headstone Using the marker for support, Jack stood, his eyes
trained on the ground and spoke, his voice a mere whisper. This voice was Jack the father. This was the voice that
had read stories, the voice that had taken away monsters and quieted fevers. This voice little boys ran to.
“Charlie would have been sixteen on his birthday this year.”
Daniel waited.
“Charlie loved cars. When he was seven, he saw this beat up wreck in the neighbor’s back yard. I paid the guy a
hundred dollars for this old Camero. There was no top on it, it had been sitting outside for years, birds and squirrels
were nesting in it, but Charlie loved it. I had it towed to this garage that restored old cars, and about every third
weekend, Charlie and I would have Boy's day. Sara would stay at the house or go shopping, and Charlie and I would
drive down to the body shop and see what had been done since the last time.” Jack stopped. “Charlie wanted it
painted black. ‘Black’s the fastest color, dad, it has to be black.’ So black it was. Charlie never had the chance to
see it finished.” Jack closed his eyes. “I sent the owner a check, but never went back.”
“Then yesterday, I got a call, it was the new body shop owner.” Jack looked up into Daniel’s eyes,
“They didn’t want to store the car anymore. They delivered it yesterday. The owner sent a note with an offer to buy
the car for his personal collection, but.” Jack stopped. Looking over his shoulder, Daniel saw a 1969 black and
chrome convertible Camero parked at the curb.
“I wanted to bring the car over so Charlie could see it.”
Daniel turned back from the car and caught his foot on the grass. He felt himself caught up into a strong embrace as
Jack kept him from falling. Jack took a deep breath, and then leaned his head onto Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel steadied
himself, and then dropped his cane, wrapping his own arms around his friend and holding on. He pulled Jack close as
quiet sobs wracked Jack’s body, his tears unstoppable in the anguish of broken dreams.
“It’s ok, ok, I’ve got you.” Daniel murmured quietly, his arms holding tight as he listened to the falling pieces of Jack’s
heart. “Charlie would have loved the car, you know.”
~*~*~
Daniel stood in the evening twilight of the small cemetery with Jack by his side.
Daniel turned to Jack.
“I had the driver from the base drop me off. Do you think Charlie would mind if you gave me a ride in his car?”
Jack looked down at the grave of his son, and then smiled at Daniel.
“No, Daniel, I don’t think he would mind at all.”
Daniel smiled. “Thanks Charlie.”
Daniel watched as Jack looked away. He heard Jack’s softly murmur goodbye and the two men walked slowly towards
the curb.
~The End~
BACK
DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret
Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or
trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the
author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
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