![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
SG-1 - From the Ashes
I was home from work today. After sleeping in an obnoxiously long time, I finished this up.
Title: From the Ashes
Genre: SG-1, Gen
Rating: PG
Season/Spoilers: After “Fallen”
Synopsis: The power of people to make a difference.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no money from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Daniel watched the newscast with feigned disinterest, but Jack knew him better than he thought. The shadowed eyes, the way he kept almost biting his lower lip, only to stop himself and dart a weary glance at his surroundings gave him away to his friend.
“What are you watching?” Jack asked with forced casualness.
Daniel quickly reached for the remote and turned off the television. “Just the news,” he said too fast, blinking his eyes rapidly behind his glasses.
“So, what’s going on in the world today?” Jack inquired, taking the control from lax hands and flicking the set back on.
He caught only the last few seconds of the report the other man had been watching. The portion of the building being shown looked completely gutted, and he believed the reporter when she said at least another third of the building suffered from severe smoke damage. The thing that struck him the strongest were her final words before she signed off, “The children, most of whom escaped uninjured, will be displaced to temporary homes and a makeshift dormitory has been set up at the Social Services office for the time being.”
He sighed, turning off the set and craning his neck to face his friend. “Saint Sebastian’s?” he guessed.
Daniel’s head whipped around, the surprise evident in his eyes. “How did you know?” he demanded.
Jack gestured towards the couch, pleased when the younger man sat down with no argument. He settled in beside him, fidgeting with the remote for a moment as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he decided the direct route was always the best route with Daniel, and got right to it. “For some, unknown, reason, you left me in charge of your accounts in case of an emergency,” he reminded him. “After you died/left/ascended/whatever you want to call it, I was going through the paperwork and noticed several very large transactions being forwarded to something notated only as ‘St. Bat’s’ and needed to know if this was supposed to continue or what.”
“So you looked into it,” Daniel supposed, taking off his glasses and running a tired hand across his face.
“Actually, I had Carter look into it,” O’Neill corrected with a shrug. At the look he received, he clarified, “I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, the way it was channeled through another account to be all anonymous and stuff. She figured out where it was going, and it was a short process to find out why.” In an aside, he added, “You don’t even want to know how many Saint Bartholomew’s and Saint Sebastian’s and Saint Other Things That Could Be Shortened To Bat’s there are in the U.S.”
“And?” Daniel prompted quietly.
“And, we figured the place you grew up at was a worthy cause and made sure the payments continued to be made,” Jack finished.
Daniel sat there for a moment, no longer resisting the urge to bite his lower lip. Finally, he spoke. “I didn’t grow up there, not technically,” he said. “I was funneled to several foster homes as needed, but Saint Bat’s was this safe place for me, a ‘home base’ between trips to other families. Lonnie was a sweetie and always had a warm bed and a meal for me, even if I just needed a break from wherever I was at the time.” He looked up, blue eyes rimmed with wetness. “I just wanted to give something back, you know? I know she’s not there anymore, but they still live by her principles, and it’s a good place, Jack. It’s a good place.”
Jack wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, letting him soak in the comfort he so obviously needed. “Let’s see if we can keep it that way,” he promised.
Daniel pulled back slightly, but did not try to break away. “How?” he asked, almost plaintively. “They don’t have a lot of money, especially not enough to recover from this,” he explained, waving a hand towards the silent television.
Jack chuckled, low and deep. “Ah, Danny, you underestimate us,” was all he said, leaving the other man truly confused.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was nearly three weeks later and Daniel was watching the news again, this time surrounded by his friends. “The surprise donations of both time and money have truly made a difference,” the newscaster was saying. “The orphanage that was expected to close after the devastating fire now hopes to reopen its doors as early as next week.”
A round of cheers went up in the small room. “We did it!” Sam enthused, grabbing Daniel into a brief hug before reaching for a celebratory soda.
“Indeed, we did,” Teal’c agreed with a nod, looking a bit odd with a baseball cap still pulled low on his forehead.
The linguist still looked shell-shocked. “I still can’t believe it,” he admitted. “So many people, and so much money, in such a short amount of time.”
“I told you that you underestimated us,” Jack grinned from behind his beer. As soon as word got out on the base about the fire, and a certain team member’s connection to the institution, not much could stand in the way of a determined base full of military personnel. A donation box had been set up, and was soon overflowing, Carter creating an account for all the funds. Fraiser and her people had donated time and medical supplies to the few children unfortunate enough to get caught in the fire, and Hammond had approved every single time-off request to travel to New York and volunteer on the rebuilding project, joking that the Goa’uld better not attack during the next month or Earth was truly in trouble.
Three weeks, several thousand dollars and several thousand man-hours later, and Saint Bat’s was nearly looking good as new.
Daniel was in awe. Part of Jack was as well, having hoped for half as much but, once again being proved wrong. As far as his teammate was concerned, people were doing this because of the children in need and maybe because they found out there was a connection to one of their coworkers on base. Jack knew better. Though they worked with good people, he also knew the fact this was the place that raised and helped create one Daniel Jackson was the driving force behind all the charity. He really could not say that he disagreed.
The thing that really made the day was when a letter was delivered. He watched as Daniel opened it, seeing a note inside on the now familiar letterhead of Saint Sebastian’s. It read simply, “Thank you, Daniel.” Underneath were the signatures of every child who currently called Saint Bat’s home, written in crayon, marker, and colored pencil. He made a mental note to buy a frame for it for Daniel’s office.
“How did they know?” Daniel asked, completely dumbfounded.
Jack knew it was most likely through the less-than-subtle hard working Marines and Airmen who had donated their time and skills cleaning and rebuilding. Even if they had not given it away, it would have been a relatively simple matter of tracking them down. Instead, he smiled and said, “Maybe Lonnie told them.”
Daniel’s face broke into a wide grin as he laughed in agreement.
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Title: From the Ashes
Genre: SG-1, Gen
Rating: PG
Season/Spoilers: After “Fallen”
Synopsis: The power of people to make a difference.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no money from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Daniel watched the newscast with feigned disinterest, but Jack knew him better than he thought. The shadowed eyes, the way he kept almost biting his lower lip, only to stop himself and dart a weary glance at his surroundings gave him away to his friend.
“What are you watching?” Jack asked with forced casualness.
Daniel quickly reached for the remote and turned off the television. “Just the news,” he said too fast, blinking his eyes rapidly behind his glasses.
“So, what’s going on in the world today?” Jack inquired, taking the control from lax hands and flicking the set back on.
He caught only the last few seconds of the report the other man had been watching. The portion of the building being shown looked completely gutted, and he believed the reporter when she said at least another third of the building suffered from severe smoke damage. The thing that struck him the strongest were her final words before she signed off, “The children, most of whom escaped uninjured, will be displaced to temporary homes and a makeshift dormitory has been set up at the Social Services office for the time being.”
He sighed, turning off the set and craning his neck to face his friend. “Saint Sebastian’s?” he guessed.
Daniel’s head whipped around, the surprise evident in his eyes. “How did you know?” he demanded.
Jack gestured towards the couch, pleased when the younger man sat down with no argument. He settled in beside him, fidgeting with the remote for a moment as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he decided the direct route was always the best route with Daniel, and got right to it. “For some, unknown, reason, you left me in charge of your accounts in case of an emergency,” he reminded him. “After you died/left/ascended/whatever you want to call it, I was going through the paperwork and noticed several very large transactions being forwarded to something notated only as ‘St. Bat’s’ and needed to know if this was supposed to continue or what.”
“So you looked into it,” Daniel supposed, taking off his glasses and running a tired hand across his face.
“Actually, I had Carter look into it,” O’Neill corrected with a shrug. At the look he received, he clarified, “I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, the way it was channeled through another account to be all anonymous and stuff. She figured out where it was going, and it was a short process to find out why.” In an aside, he added, “You don’t even want to know how many Saint Bartholomew’s and Saint Sebastian’s and Saint Other Things That Could Be Shortened To Bat’s there are in the U.S.”
“And?” Daniel prompted quietly.
“And, we figured the place you grew up at was a worthy cause and made sure the payments continued to be made,” Jack finished.
Daniel sat there for a moment, no longer resisting the urge to bite his lower lip. Finally, he spoke. “I didn’t grow up there, not technically,” he said. “I was funneled to several foster homes as needed, but Saint Bat’s was this safe place for me, a ‘home base’ between trips to other families. Lonnie was a sweetie and always had a warm bed and a meal for me, even if I just needed a break from wherever I was at the time.” He looked up, blue eyes rimmed with wetness. “I just wanted to give something back, you know? I know she’s not there anymore, but they still live by her principles, and it’s a good place, Jack. It’s a good place.”
Jack wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, letting him soak in the comfort he so obviously needed. “Let’s see if we can keep it that way,” he promised.
Daniel pulled back slightly, but did not try to break away. “How?” he asked, almost plaintively. “They don’t have a lot of money, especially not enough to recover from this,” he explained, waving a hand towards the silent television.
Jack chuckled, low and deep. “Ah, Danny, you underestimate us,” was all he said, leaving the other man truly confused.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was nearly three weeks later and Daniel was watching the news again, this time surrounded by his friends. “The surprise donations of both time and money have truly made a difference,” the newscaster was saying. “The orphanage that was expected to close after the devastating fire now hopes to reopen its doors as early as next week.”
A round of cheers went up in the small room. “We did it!” Sam enthused, grabbing Daniel into a brief hug before reaching for a celebratory soda.
“Indeed, we did,” Teal’c agreed with a nod, looking a bit odd with a baseball cap still pulled low on his forehead.
The linguist still looked shell-shocked. “I still can’t believe it,” he admitted. “So many people, and so much money, in such a short amount of time.”
“I told you that you underestimated us,” Jack grinned from behind his beer. As soon as word got out on the base about the fire, and a certain team member’s connection to the institution, not much could stand in the way of a determined base full of military personnel. A donation box had been set up, and was soon overflowing, Carter creating an account for all the funds. Fraiser and her people had donated time and medical supplies to the few children unfortunate enough to get caught in the fire, and Hammond had approved every single time-off request to travel to New York and volunteer on the rebuilding project, joking that the Goa’uld better not attack during the next month or Earth was truly in trouble.
Three weeks, several thousand dollars and several thousand man-hours later, and Saint Bat’s was nearly looking good as new.
Daniel was in awe. Part of Jack was as well, having hoped for half as much but, once again being proved wrong. As far as his teammate was concerned, people were doing this because of the children in need and maybe because they found out there was a connection to one of their coworkers on base. Jack knew better. Though they worked with good people, he also knew the fact this was the place that raised and helped create one Daniel Jackson was the driving force behind all the charity. He really could not say that he disagreed.
The thing that really made the day was when a letter was delivered. He watched as Daniel opened it, seeing a note inside on the now familiar letterhead of Saint Sebastian’s. It read simply, “Thank you, Daniel.” Underneath were the signatures of every child who currently called Saint Bat’s home, written in crayon, marker, and colored pencil. He made a mental note to buy a frame for it for Daniel’s office.
“How did they know?” Daniel asked, completely dumbfounded.
Jack knew it was most likely through the less-than-subtle hard working Marines and Airmen who had donated their time and skills cleaning and rebuilding. Even if they had not given it away, it would have been a relatively simple matter of tracking them down. Instead, he smiled and said, “Maybe Lonnie told them.”
Daniel’s face broke into a wide grin as he laughed in agreement.
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.