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Daniel Jackson Drabbles & Micro Fiction

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Sure hands pull back the slide, stripping a round from the magazine, knocking it into the chamber of the barrel. Daniel's finger twitches on the trigger, hesitating before it hits the hammer catch.

The first shot surprises him only because it hits, because Khalek didn't stop it.

Blood pools quickly, like there was never a hole where his heart should have been.

He fires unrelentingly, stepping forward with every shot. When the magazine is empty he stops and forces himself to look into Khalek's dead eyes.

He summarizes for Jack over the phone, giving no more than what will pass over his desk in Washington.

"Woolsey upset?"

Daniel snorts. "Does that matter?"

He can hear Jack's shrug and knows that Jack doesn't care about Woolsey either. But Jack won't ask the question he wants answered, and he won't voice what they're both thinking. Instead Jack will be there at 3 A.M., on the other end of the phone, breathing into the receiver until Daniel falls asleep again. They won't talk about the empty echo a gun makes in the 'gate room, or that for the first time Daniel doesn't regret taking a life. They won't talk about the man Daniel's become.

Jack will just be there, doing what Daniel did for him for years. Now that Jack's only field missions are navigating his way around the Pentagon, he'll take up Daniel's role . . . after all, Daniel's already taken over for Jack.