The Captor and the Captured
Jack didn't hear the door shut. He didn't hear the growl from his captor. He didn't hear the command that he'd be dealt with later if he tried to escape. He was too busy screaming. Deposited into the darkened room, he'd shown that O'Neill spark of defiance that those he knew him either admired or detested.
He didn't care. Jack was a fighter and he never cared what others thought.
Hurling himself against the door of his cell, he pounded on it, giving the woodwork savage kicks. His howls lessening as his throat began to constrict, he felt tears prick his eyes.
"No! No! I won't give him the satisfaction!" Scrubbing at his eyes, he felt the red mist of rage lift and despair settle in.
How had this happened? He was smart, streetwise and fast, but he'd zigged instead of zagged, and his captor had been upon on him. Like a snake, he reached out an arm and captured him, and no matter how much Jack struggled, he couldn't break the larger man's grip.
Blood still pounding in his ears, he looked over at the bed and scowled. If he lay down and shut his eyes for a minute, would that be a sign of defeat? Would his captor look in while he slept and know he'd won? Tumultuous thoughts clouded his brain, and with a sigh that came from the depth of his being, Jack sunk to the floor.
He was tired. He ached all over, and he wanted to be a million miles away.
Shutting his eyes, he dreamt of his grandmother, and for the first time that day, he felt at peace. Her voice, her scent, her laughter filled his thoughts, and Jack sighed with an aching want.
"Jack... Jack!" a voice called from somewhere far away.
As Jack began to stir, a feeling of regret washed over him. "No, don't go Grams! Come back! Please! I'll be good!" But it was too late, she had gone and the dream was already fading away. Within a few moments he'd have trouble even recalling her face.
His arms and legs ached from lying on the floor, and as he stretched out painfully, he knuckled the sleep from his eyes. The room was quiet and very dark, but the shiver that ran down his spine wasn't from the cold. Far from it. There was the telltale sound of footsteps approaching and Jack knew his captor was about to return. The gig was up, time to pay the price for his defiance.
The door handle jiggled and after a few seconds, finally turned. The man who stood, arms folded, in the doorway seemed monstrous to Jack, and he cowered even further.
"Well!?" then man asked in a voice so stern it seemed to bounce around the room. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
Jack ran his tongue across his lips his eyes darting back and forth, looking for an escape. The next words out of his mouth would determine his fate.
"I-I'm really really s-s-sorry," he finally whispered, the last word coming out in a sob.
The man walked forward and bent down on one knee, his face now almost level with Jack.
"That's all I wanted to hear, little buddy," he said gently and opened his arms. "Come here and give me a hug."
The six-year-old leapt from the bed and flung himself into his guardian's chest, burying his face into his neck, and sobbed as though he heart would break.
Standing to his feet, Daniel Jackson held Jack tightly, and rubbing his back gently, told him all was forgiven. It was like this now. Jack couldn't and wouldn't accept the limitations his new size put on him, but Daniel had the small boy's safety to consider. If that meant scooping him up and carrying him to his room for a necessary time-out, then that's what he'd do.
With a deep sigh, Daniel walked down the stairs, Jack resting on his hip. Swollen eyes, stuffed up nose, he was the picture of childish misery, and Daniel felt like howling with him. Was he up to this? Would Sam be better? Teal'c? One warrior caring for another? Was he really the best solution for Jack?
There were so many questions that had no answers, and Daniel pushed the thoughts from him mind. He'd need to be both mother and father to his small friend now, and whether he felt capable didn't matter. It was only Jack that mattered now.
Daniel was distracted by a small voice whispering in his ear.
"Daniel? I know I can't drive my truck but can I drive your sedan?"
He knew they'd make it after all.
The End
