A Little Thing
by Keiko Kirin

"Sir," the guard's voice came clipped through the network. "There's a, uh, visitor here I think you should see."

The general waited as the guard stepped aside and on the monitor he saw an old, white-haired man standing and looking around the detainment cell.

"How'd he get in?" General Reynolds asked.

The guard held something up to the monitor. A high-level security clearance ID card. One of the old ones.

"How'd he get in?" Reynolds asked again, losing his patience, then read the information on the ID. "Never mind. Have him escorted down to my office."

Reynolds frowned as he waited. Colonel O'Neill had retired years -- decades -- ago. What in the hell was he doing here?

Several minutes later, an airman showed O'Neill into the general's office. Reynolds stood up and held out his hand. "Colonel. It's nice to see you."

O'Neill didn't take his hand. He stood in the doorway and looked around. Reynolds dismissed the escort and watched him. He was holding up well. Still tall, though a little stooped. More guant than lean -- his clothes hung on him. Weathered, crinkled face under severely short, snow white hair. Beneath thick, heavy, white brows, his eyes were dark, and Reynolds was taken aback when they finally focused on him. They regarded him blankly for several seconds, then moved on to something else, always searching.

Reynolds went back to his desk. "Please. Sit down."

O'Neill looked at him again, then warily came forward and sat down in front of the desk.

"It's quite a surprise to see you here," Reynolds said. He was unable to look away from O'Neill's eyes, they were so changed. Maybe O'Neill was going blind.

Reynolds set aside some reports and clasped his hands over his desk. "I don't think you should have had that ID card, you know, but now that that's been taken care of, we don't need to discuss it. So. What can I do for you?"

O'Neill, who had been looking around the office from his chair, faced the general again and sat forward. He held onto the edge of the desk. "We have to find Teal'c. Let me hand-pick a team and get started, sir. I don't know where he is, but we can start from where he was captured. The Tok'ra might have some intell. I've asked Major Carter to contact Jacob."

Reynolds stared at him in silence, and thought carefully before he spoke. "Colonel," he said gently, "Teal'c is with his family." He glanced down and moved his pen from one side of the desk to the other.

O'Neill frowned and shook his head. "No! Don't you understand? He's in trouble. We need to do a search and rescue. Let me get a team together. We've got to act fast." His fingers trembled, he was gripping the desk so hard.

"How do you know he's in trouble, Colonel?" Reynolds asked.

O'Neill's frown deepened. He sat back and looked down at his lap and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Daniel told me."

General Reynolds watched him fidget. Poor bastard. Didn't they have drugs for this now? What in the hell was he going to do with him?

"You mean Doctor Jackson?"

"Yes, I mean Doctor Jackson," O'Neill snapped.

"Doctor Jackson... isn't here."

"I know that, you idiot. I took him to Oma myself. He's an energy being. How else do you think he knew that Teal'c was in trouble?" O'Neill glared at Reynolds, and for the first time during this reunion, his eyes had that sharpness, that edge, which Reynolds remembered so well, even after all these years.

"I remember you," O'Neill said, sitting forward again. "Reynolds, isn't it?" He looked around. "Where's General Hammond? Let me see the general, and you can go back to licking boots or whatever the fuck it is you do around here."

General Reynolds took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Let it slide. "Colonel O'Neill, please. I'd like to help you. But the fact is, you retired some years ago, as did Colonel Carter, and Teal'c. Teal'c's not in trouble, and Colonel Carter can't contact her father because he died with the rest of the Tok'ra many years ago. And General Hammond, God rest his soul, is no longer with us." He paused and added, "I'm sure you remember all this."

O'Neill's fingers shook, then he let go of the desk. He slumped back in the chair, closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he kept his gaze lowered. He clasped his hands over his lap and said quietly, "I want to go home."

-----

"Mrs. Hillman?" The woman's voice was polite, with an undercurrent of urgency, over the network. "This is Juanita at Oak Grove. I'm so sorry to trouble you, but it's about Mr. O'Neill. He's... left us again."

Sara Hillman turned off the television, walked into the kitchen, and sat down next to the network monitor. "How did he get out?"

"We don't know yet, ma'am." Juanita sounded defensive. "But we thought we should notify you, in case he tries to get in touch."

Sara picked at the edge of a fabric placemat next to the monitor. "Have you checked the house?"

"We're doing that now, ma'am. We've sent some people to your old house on Spring View Road, as well as to Mr. O'Neill's former residence. I just wanted to notify--"

"Thanks," Sara cut in, and pressed the 'off' button. She got up and started doing things in the kitchen: cleaning the breadcrumbs out of the toaster, washing a coffee cup in the sink, straightening the decorative plates on the wall. She'd always been able to work while her mind was somewhere else.

Damn those idiots at Oak Grove for their incompetence. Once was bad enough. Twice meant it was time to start looking into some of the other places, before Jack hurt himself. Assuming he was okay now.

Sara opened the dishwasher and took out the clean dishes to put them away. She hadn't asked for this. Had never imagined she'd have to deal with this. Jack had been out of her life for so long. How was this fair? How was it fair to lose her husband, only to be saddled with her ex? She'd had a peaceful, pleasant life. She should have known, she thought bitterly, that after Al died, Jack would find a way to turn her world upside down. Again.

She shut the cabinet door and clenched her hand into a fist. Why wasn't it him? Why is he still here? She bit her lip. Why hasn't he died?

She unclenched her fist and closed her eyes. No, God, she didn't mean it. She didn't mean it. Please, let him be all right. Please. I'll find him a new home. I'll find people who can manage to keep him medicated this time. Such a little thing. Was it asking too much for them to do their damn job?

She was mopping the floor when General Reynolds of the United States Air and Space Force called. How they'd managed to find her, she wasn't sure. Personal files on ex-spouses of retired officers? She shouldn't be surprised, she thought.

Sara fed the dog, took the Nissan out of the garage, and drove all the way into town and across, to the visitors' entrance near Cheyenne Mountain. General Reynolds was there with Jack, waiting. A nice-looking balding man, Reynolds smiled and shook hands with her, doing his best not to notice how awkward the situation was. Sara thanked him without belaboring it and embarrassing him further. She took Jack's hand, helped him into the car, and started the long drive to Oak Grove.

Jack was silent. He stared straight ahead with his hands clasped over his lap. Probably couldn't figure out who she was. Sara made a couple of attempts at neutral small talk, then gave up. She was too old for this, dammit. They both were.

When he spoke, he was so quiet, and his voice so hoarse, she almost didn't hear it. She had to pause and think back to figure out he'd said, "Thanks."

Sara glanced over at him. "It's all right." She watched the highway ahead. "Oak Grove called and told me. They thought you might try to go to our old house again."

"I needed to..." Jack stopped himself. They both knew that whatever he thought he needed to do, it wasn't possible anymore.

"General Reynolds seemed nice," Sara said. "I bet the place has changed a lot. You were lucky someone was around who knew you. I'm surprised he knew to call me, though."

"I asked him to."

Sara glanced at him again. "You did? Why?"

"I..." Jack swallowed and worked his jaw, like he was chewing the inside of his mouth. "I couldn't remember where I lived." The tremble in his voice made her look over again. He was crying, with his eyes wide open, staring ahead. Tears made a path along the wrinkles in his face.

Sara focused on the road before she swerved and killed them both in an accident. Damn him. Once she'd waited years wanting to see him cry, just to know he could. Damn him for crying now.

She blinked rapidly and took a steadying breath. Crying was contagious. As she took the exit for Oak Grove, she silently muttered to herself about how they'd cut his hair. They always did it too short. He didn't like it that short. Ex-military didn't mean buzz cuts. How many times did she have to tell them? And they couldn't keep him medicated and keep him safe. She was going to have to find him another place. Damn. She was too old for this.

-----

"Hi, Jack."

Jack ignored him.

A pause. "You do remember who I am, don't you?"

Jack glared at him. "Of course I remember who you are. But I'm not listening to you anymore. I listened to you earlier, and look where it got me."

Daniel sat down in the ugly yellow guest chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jack folded his arms over his chest. "You told me Teal'c was in trouble, and I listened to you, ran off to Cheyenne Mountain like I was still somebody and there was still a Stargate Program, and made a fool of myself." He uncrossed his arms and sat forward in the dining chair. He tapped the table top with one finger. "Guess who's General now. Remember that dork Reynolds, who wanted to fire up Orlin's big, honkin' spacegun? He's a general."

Daniel furrowed his brow and blinked at him. Jack frowned slightly and raised an eyebrow. Maybe energy beings got senior moments, too. "Orlin. You gotta remember him. Sam's alien boyfriend for a week. He was like you. One of the Oma crowd."

Daniel closed his eyes and held up one finger. "Okay. Jack. Just listen..."

"No."

Daniel's eyes flew open and he pursed his lips. Jack inwardly smiled. He'd missed Daniel's indignant, pissed off look. Too many years.

"Jack."

Jack shook his head and ran his hand over the table top. "No. I listened to you before, and it only got me into trouble."

Daniel stood up. Uh oh. He looked earnest. That was never a good sign. He moved his hands, one above the other, working up to whatever his argument was going to be. Jack sighed. Didn't Daniel realize Jack was too old for this? I can't argue anymore, Daniel. I've forgotten what the point was.

"Okay," said Daniel. "Look. I wasn't here earlier, didn't tell you about Teal'c, but that's not important anymore." Daniel stopped next to Jack's chair. He crouched down and looked up at Jack. "I came here to get you."

Jack twitched an eyebrow. "Get me to do what?"

Daniel smiled a little and shook his head. "No, no. I'm here to take you with me."

Jack stared at him for a moment, then blinked, and looked away. He looked down at the table top. Damn. It was raining again. The roof was leaking. Just like it had in Sara's car on the way over here. He could feel the rain on his cheeks.

"Jack? It's true. I'm really here. I've really come to get you, take you with me."

"No," Jack said, and hoped Daniel could hear, because he couldn't make his voice louder all of a sudden. The rain was pouring down his cheeks and getting on his lips now. Dry lips, always dry. He licked the rain. Salty rain.

"Jack," Daniel said quietly, with pain in his voice. Such pain that Jack turned around and looked at him.

"I can't," said Jack. He winced at Daniel's intense, concerned look.

"Why not?" Daniel asked.

Jack clasped his hands over his lap. He had to clasp them tight, otherwise his fingers shook, and he hated that. Shaky hands, shuffling walk, white hair. So old. He stared at his hands. "I can't." He blinked the rain out of eyes. "I can't ascend."

"Jack."

"Can't ascend. Had my chance, gave it up." Damn rain. Couldn't they fix the roof in here?

"Jack," Daniel said again, to get his attention.

Jack was unhappily surprised to see him smiling. What the fuck was so funny about it?

Daniel said, "You can. You can ascend. That's why I'm here."

"But... You said you couldn't do it for me. You said you couldn't do anything." Jack paused, feeling more himself now that the rain had stopped. "Damn useless, by the way, in case I never mentioned it."

Daniel narrowed his eyes for a moment. "You did mention it. Several times." He closed his eyes and blinked them open, and smiled again. A nice, warm smile. Jack couldn't remember when he'd seen it last. He just knew it was decades ago. A lifetime ago.

"You trust me?" Daniel said.

"I trust you."

"Then it's time." Daniel stood up from his crouch. "Just take my hand. We'll go together. It won't be hard, you'll see." Daniel held out his hand.

Jack looked up at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Will I have to speak in koans?"

Daniel shook his head. Maybe it was raining on the other plane, where the Oma people hung out, because Daniel's eyes were wet.

"It won't be hard? It won't hurt?"

"No." Daniel held his hand steady, in front of Jack.

Jack took his hand and stood up. "Okay, then. Let's go. Show me this big journey of yours, what you've been up to all this time."

Daniel sighed and squeezed his hand. "I missed you, Jack."

Daniel's hand was firm and strong and warm, and Jack noticed his own hands weren't shaking now. He clasped Daniel's with the same strength. He was so distracted by this that he didn't look back before they left. And Daniel was right, as he always was. It wasn't hard, and it didn't hurt.

(the end)

August 2002