Aveo Amacuse by Jude
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Category: Jack/Daniel
Genres: Angst, Established Relationship, Missing Scene/Episode-Related
Rated: Teen
Warnings: None
Series: Bedtime Stories
Summary: Daniel remembers Jack's good-bye to him. An episode tag to Season Seven's Lost City Part Two.

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Daniel walked into his bedroom, flipping on the light switch. He stood unmoving in the doorway, his eyes roving over the disarray in the room. Had it been only yesterday morning that he and Jack had made love there on the bed?

Daniel bit his lower lip, remembering. Hot tears, which had been threatening all day, prickled behind his eyeballs. His throat closed, and he had to concentrate on breathing past the constriction. Jack. Jack.

He sagged into the doorjamb with one shoulder and all it took was one blink for the tears to scroll down his cheeks. Wiping them away would have taken too much energy and effort, so he didn't bother. Sniffing, he gazed at his bed. Their bed. Oh, God.

Jack had watched Daniel's face as they'd made love yesterday morning, never closing his eyes, never turning away. He'd almost totally lost his ability to speak English by then. But he could still say Daniel's name, and as he'd studied Daniel's eyes, his lips, watching his expression as Daniel had thrust into his warm body, Jack had whispered it over and over. The name, uttered in simple trust and with such intense longing and love, had sounded like a benediction to Daniel. A blessing.

Afterwards, their passion spent, the sweat of their joining cooling on their bodies, Daniel had held Jack close and murmured into his ear. Daniel remembered making outrageous promises to him then, that all would be well, that Jack would be coming home again with him soon, and that they'd be together always. Daniel's words may not have been rooted in reality, but they were filled with hope, and they had been what he hoped Jack needed to hear. Jack had only nodded, seeming to understand.

Now, leaning in the doorway, Daniel sniffed and wiped at his nose with the back of one finger. He took off his glasses for a moment, and lifted his tee shirt to wipe at his wet face. Jack.

Daniel went to the two windows and pulled the drapes closed. Turning to the room, he surveyed the clothing and damp towels they had left strewn around the room in their rush to get to work on that last morning together. He looked at the bed, which looked like someone had stirred it with a stick.

With a sigh, he started to pull the dirty sheets and pillowcases off the bed, and then bent to scoop up the laundry from the floor. Holding the large bundle in his arms, burying his face in it to momentarily savor the scent of Jack and sweat and sex, he made his way to the utility room.

He started the water in the washer, loaded in some detergent, and then stuffed everything in, mixing jeans, sheets, towels, and underwear. He just needed to wash away the perspiration, the semen, the dampness of their last morning together. He couldn't bear to see it or smell it anymore.

He grabbed some clean sheets out of the linen closet in the hall and then went in to make up the bed. The sheets were stretchy, hard to get on without someone working with him on the other side of the bed, but finally he managed. They were sky blue, Jack's favorites, made out of a soft jersey tee shirt material. Jack always said the same thing when those sheets were on the bed, that they matched Daniel's eyes. He loved to crawl on top of Daniel and look down at him, sprawled underneath him on the blue sheets.

Daniel growled to himself, impatience rearing its head at memories he couldn't seem to control.

Once the bed was made up, he snapped off the light at the bedside. In the gloom, the sheets looked gray. The blue was gone. One less painful recollection to deal with.

A half hour later, showered, dressed in sweats and a tee shirt, the laundry stuffed into the dryer to worry about later, Daniel slipped between the clean sheets and lay back on his pillow. He ran his right hand back and forth on the other side of the bed for a moment.

Rolling over on his side, his eyes wide open, he looked at Jack's pillow. "I miss you, old man," he whispered. He swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Not sure what I'm supposed to do now." With a pang that was almost physical, it struck him that he'd been alone most of his adult life. The idea of once again living in solitude held no appeal.

He thought about the last time he'd seen Jack, encased in some kind of alien stasis device, entombed in what looked like ice but felt like plastic. Jack 's eyes had been staring at nothing, and he seemed lost to Daniel in a kind of living death. Turning his back on Jack, leaving the Antarctic outpost, turning Jack's care over to armed guards, had been one of the hardest things Daniel had ever had to do.

"Sam's in love with you, you know," he told the air above Jack's pillow. "I'm more sure than ever now. She was so upset when we had to leave you there." Daniel reached out and caressed the pillow, imagining that his lover were there to talk to. "Maybe the time has come to tell her and Teal'c about us, babe. When you get out of there. When you come home to me." Daniel's voice broke,and he took a deep breath. Jack.

"I lied, you know. When you said good-bye to me." A small smile played at the edges of Daniel's mouth as he remembered Jack's last words to him, a kind of secret message, uttered in that strange Latin dialect that apparently was Ancient. "You sly devil. You knew I was the only one who would understand, didn't you? I told Sam and Teal'c that you said good-bye. And only I knew that you were saying good-bye only to me. Aveo amacuse. Good-bye, my dear friend. My dear male friend."

Daniel rolled onto his back and regarded the dark ceiling of his bedroom. He ran his hand through his hair and tucked that hand behind his head. "It's not good-bye though, Jack. We'll be together again, you'll see. Sam and T and I will work to get you home again as soon as we can, I swear it."

He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. He had taken the strong sleeping pill the infirmary doc had given him, and he hoped it would kick in soon.

"Te amo, Jack," he whispered a few minutes later, just before sleep claimed him. "Amacuse."

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