applesaucedream | Can't Stand the Distance, Can't Dream Alone [open to all]

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Can't Stand the Distance, Can't Dream Alone [open to all]

The sleeping rifties might have a difficult time realizing they're dreaming this evening, in part because tonight's dreams are atypically vivid, even compared to the rift's usual efforts. Perhaps that is because it's drawing so heavily from the memories of the dreamers, themselves, and using that information to recreate their home worlds in stunning detail. And that is the real reason the dreamers might not be eager to accept the unreality of the situation: the situation is one that many of them have been hoping for for months or even years. In their dreams tonight, the rifties are going home.

Perhaps they arrive in the same moment that they left. Perhaps months have passed at home, or they might even find themselves arriving before their departure point. But those are small details when compared to the overwhelming realization that they're back where they belong.

They're not alone. Many dreamers will find the rift has given them a companion for the return trip. Well, an uncomplicated return home is probably more than anyone could have hoped for, anyway. And for the unwitting visitor, perhaps another universal displacement will be easier to bear with the addition of a local guide.

[ooc: usual dream party rules apply; all are welcome, and dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. Also at the players' discretion: when their character arrives in their 'home universe,' and how many (if any) locals they'd want to run into.]

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Things mostly seems to go by in a blur at this point. The numbness is not just in his body now, but also starting to cover his mind. Thankfully, it makes it a lot easier to deal with being forcibly dragged around, and not be completely terrified out of his mind by all the explosions. Or perhaps this is being terrified out of his mind, he notes distantly, because his mind does seem pretty far away. As they run, he's starting to feel disconnected from it. He sees and hears just as much but it seems only tangentially related to him.

He gives a detached nod at Daniel's words. It's not like Seth has any suggestions. Well. Maybe there's sewers or something. But Seth does not want to go back underground.

Now the guy's just faded into complete desensitization it looks like, which is really not good. That kind of compartmentalization is what precludes a sliding lack of caution, and Daniel did not just destroy the lives of what was probably at least a dozen people to watch this unnamed, unarmed civilian die due to his own manufactured apathy.

"You're gonna be okay," Daniel says, offering his shoulder a tight squeeze before releasing him. "Just - okay, here. Tell me your name, your world."

Get him talking, get him communicating, get him alive in every sense of the term before they need to move again. Relation. Connect. Keep him breathing, get him out of this.

The good thing about this detachment is it offers a bit more clarity of thought. He can go through what he knows. Daniel knows this place. Daniel is here deliberately. Daniel is not the same one Seth knows. This is not Manhattan, or probably anywhere near it. It doesn't look like the same timeframe either. Yet it doesn't feel like a dream, even now.

The amnesia and time passage theory is not completely unthinkable, but he's wearing the exact same thing he was when he was at his apartment. And there's just a lot of shit that must've happened between then and now for this all to make sense. And, well, the only other time he's experienced this extreme kind of displacement... So. The Rift's spit him out somewhere else. Daniel's universe. At this point it seems to be the only reasonable conclusion.

So, where are they? When are they? Hell if he knows. Daniel looks about the same age. 2005, or a few before? Except this doesn't look like 2005. Well. Daniel's an intergalactic explorer, right? This might not even be Earth, and that's a strange thought. But it makes sense, especially with how Daniel is asking him what his world is.

Right. He blinks and looks up when he remembers Daniel just spoke to him. It takes him a moment to realise he should probably answer.

"Um... Seth. Earth, England. Mostly," he answers. He doesn't quite seem to be at the stage of full sentences yet.

"Earth? You're from Earth? You mean - you are Tau'ri." Daniel squints at him, momentarily flummoxed. "How did you - never mind, not, not really important, okay." He sucks in a quick breath, runs a scratched and dirt-stained hand through his equally dust-covered hair. This isn't good. This is - the odds of this, he's sure, are astronomical. He'll have to ask Sam when he gets back to the SGC, when they get back, because Daniel isn't just going to leave this guy here.

"Okay. Okay." Rapidfire explanation. They're running out of time. "This? This is a planet called 'Tegalus.' Right now it's in open civil war between, uh, between the two continental powers and a third faction of fanatical insurgents, and -"

The shrieking whistle of an incoming ballistic projectile breaks him off. The building they've taken cover behind rattles ominously in response to the too-close-for-comfort collision but its foundations hold. Daniel can't imagine it'll survive a second strike.

Is that even remotely enough of an explanation? It'll have to do.

"Right, we need to move." He turns to the guy, the civilian - Seth, apparently - and jerks his head tersely at the cityscape. Now that he's forming words and working his way up to complete sentences, hopefully it means he's recovered enough coordination to get moving on his own. Daniel doesn't want to manhandle him all the way there, especially since the guy isn't even wearing shoes. "City's our safest bet. They're less eager to fire on densely populated areas."

Okay, well, apparently Tau'ri means... Human? Earthling? From the Milky Way? Who even knows. Hopefully not important. He tries to absorb the explanation, though most of it has already been made decently obvious. He doesn't really care about much more than that. He knows he'll just follow Daniel for as long as possible. What he'll do if that becomes no longer possible, well, that depends on where he is then.

This time when he nods, he seems a little more present and conscious. He even thinks of a question that seems important enough to ask. "And, uh. People who won't, won't shoot us?"

"Depending on who they are and who they think we are, it's really - not easy to tell. I think we're best avoiding everyone until I can recognize a friendly." With a slant of his chin, he indicates their next available cover, the slightly smoking skeleton of what had probably once been a house at some point, now bereft. Some thin walls still cling to their structure, upright enough to shield them for a few seconds.

"If you see anyone, if anyone sees you - don't answer, just run," Daniel warns. "Come on." After a rapid sweep of the horizon, he darts from one temporary shelter to the next.

Seth hurries along right behind him, though honestly he's not really able to keep much of a look-out while he's moving. It wasn't so bad out on the grass, or inside the base, but out here it's a different story. He needs to be very aware of where he's putting his feet, and yeah he's most definitely going to end up scratched and bruised, but he'd like that to be the worst of it. If he steps on something particularly painful, he might end up losing his balance, which is not something he wants while he's running for cover. Still, he manages.

They make their ducking, halting progress from cover to cover, and gradually the sounds of weapons fire become faint enough that Daniel can nurse that tentative hope starting to wriggle in his chest. If he can just figure a way to draw the rebels away from the gate, he can get him and Seth home and it won't be -

They're just at the city's edge, populated areas well within sight, when it feels like everything around them goes off at once.

Daniel instinctively torques, about-faces, slams into Seth and brings them both to the ground once more but that protective measure is the exact opposite of what they need, Daniel realizes too late, because the architecture surrounding them is groaning overhead, buildings threatening to topple - teetering -

The structures fold inward, rubble pouring at them, Daniel curses himself for not thinking to run instead, and his thoughts fly to the innocent who was dragged into this without reason or purpose, and he thinks of being crushed to death in rockfalls, and this will be his fault. Isn't it always?

Getting slammed onto his back on the incredibly solid ground is not fun, his back probably bruised from his very first landing here. But at least this time he doesn't get his breath knocked out of him, there's just pain, and right now he can deal with pain. Pain is focusing, in a way.

He can see the walls crumbling at them, about to bury them, and he acts in pure instinct, making the rubble fall through them instead of onto them.

"Don't let go of me," he orders Daniel, with a hell of a lot more intensity than he's shown since he got here.

This is important. If Daniel lets go, it won't end well. But they can't stay here. Seth can't keep them phased out like this forever, especially with his current physical state. And if they get properly buried by rubble, even if they won't get crushed by it, there won't be any air to breathe. Holding onto Daniel tightly, he pushes at him and tries to get to his feet.

Daniel braces himself for the hail of rock and debris that would seal them in their impersonal detrital cairn.

He waits for the ring of a boulder against the base of his neck that will shut off his brain functions all at once.

(Again.)

And the skidding and sliding of rubble is clear and distinct in his head, and he opens his eyes and can see the rocks moving through him and the civilian, the, the - Seth, Seth warns that he can't let go but Daniel's immediate reaction is to tear away, he is intangible, no, no no no no no no this is not good, he -

Seth is moving him. Daniel grips the fabric of his shirt far too tightly; it is his turn to shake, it is his turn to freeze, just for a moment until they can get - the hell - away -

As soon as they're in the clear, Daniel jerks away from other man, hands raised in a half-defensive, half-surrendering gesture.

"What was that?" he asks, his hands trembling, one fist clenching and unclenching to assure himself of his solidity, his heart roaring in his throat, his epinephrine spiking horribly even though he could stay so calm as he murdered dozens in their sealed little hatchway, distantly sickened and fascinated in equal, horrible measure. "What the hell did you do."

He is solid. He is solid. He is solid. He is here and he is solid, he has always been solid except for the times when he hasn't, but those times are not now because he is here and he is solid. He is solid.

Seth doesn't expect Daniel to react the way he does. What with how calm and collected he's been so far, and how he's surely died at least once at this point, you'd think he'd be more okay with weird shit.

But he hadn't reacted all that great the last time Seth had done it to him, had he? The one time he'd been properly conscious for, back in that underwater place. Perhaps it's a thing with him. Not when Seth does it maybe, but when it's done to Daniel.

It's almost more frightening than anything that's happened so far, seeing Daniel so scared. Seeing Daniel so scared of him, even. Jerking away like that. It's painful to see, in a way more painful than the beating he's taken today.

Breathing hard himself, temporarily exhausted by the effort of that, Seth sinks to his knees and sits down, trying to gather himself. Doing it briefly isn't too hard, but having to maintain it for ages while they got clear took its toll on his already worn body.

"I can pass through things. And, um, extend the effect," he explains. That much had been obvious of course, but he's saying it mostly to acknowledge and confirm that he knows what happened, that he did it intentionally.

He watches Daniel worriedly, waiting for Daniel to regain some of his calm, cause Seth has neither the energy nor the knowledge to actually take charge of this situation.

Clearly exerting that heretofore unknown reflex is exhausting on some level, because Seth is breathing heavily and looks like he's about to collapse from sheer weariness. Daniel eyes him with faint suspicion, horribly tempted for a minute to point his weapon. He decides against it. The guy did not react well to weapons fire of any sort, and it wouldn't be necessary.

"And you're from Earth?" he demands dubiously. This guy is an anomaly on every level. Wouldn't this have attracted someone's attention? Shouldn't the SGC know? "And you can do this naturally? No that - that isn't a Tau'ri thing. That isn't an Earth thing, do you realize, do -"

A nearby line of buildings rumbles menacingly, their unstable frames shuddering, and Daniel flinches.

They don't have time for this right now.

"No, I'm," he breathes, shakes himself, stretches out a faintly trembling hand to help the guy to his feet, "I'm sorry. That isn't important, not now, just - just warn me. Before you. You know."

Seth nods in response to the request, and takes Daniel's hand, getting to his feet. He would very much like to lie down and sleep for a week, but that's hardly an option.

"Sorry," he says honestly, giving him an apologetic look. There really wasn't much time for an explanation, and it hadn't yet occurred to him that he might need to give one. Seth wonders if his Daniel is this uncomfortable with it too. Whether it makes him uncomfortable that Seth can do it? He hadn't acted like it the first time - nerdy excitement had probably been the phrase Seth would use to describe his reaction to it.

"It's a long story, I promise I'll tell you later," he adds. He wants to reassure Daniel, and showing he has faith in them getting out of here seems a decent way to do it. Not that he isn't still having trouble coping with everything, but for the moment he seems to have adjusted enough to function for the time being.

"Yeah, okay." 'Long story,' right. He can believe it. At least it was well-timed, Daniel can give him that. The edged anxiety of combat intermingled with the sheer unexpectedness of the thing had simply been so - jarring.

"It's - that whole thing, that - is also long story. Bad experiences with, with phasing," he mutters, but that's about as far as he's willing to take that explanation at the present time.

He's starting to worry that the city itself won't actually be safe due to how eager the rebels apparently are to fire on populated buildings. Yet he can't think of where else they could go. They can't afford to move too far from the gate's current location and whatever passes for a standing government now would be situated here unless it's been dismantled already, and they're completely isolated from Earth. Daniel doesn't have the rest of SG-1 with him on this one. They're on the other side of the silent gate, trying to navigate the red tape to get the military firepower to extract him, or to approach the rebels diplomatically, except Daniel has tried diplomacy and look where that got them.

He pauses for a minute, paralyzed by indecision, then moves in the unerring direction of the city. He simply doesn't have any other ideas.

"Keep behind me," he warns Seth, completely unnecessarily. If they get hit by a close enough explosion, it won't matter where Seth is standing in relation to Daniel unless he's close enough to phase them again. As wary as Daniel is about the thought, it's still the best defense tactic they have.

Seth nods, first to the explanation then the warning. He has no desire to go first, but he keeps very close. Close enough to grab him should it be necessary. Which it very well might be. But at least Daniel seems to realise this too.

Again he seems to focus just as much on simply where he's putting his feet, which are becoming more and more sore. He can't even remember the last time he went barefoot outside, so it's not like they're adjusted to it. At least his anxiety levels are holding steady as a reasonable level. Small mercies, and all that.

"Um... Weird question," he says suddenly, even if he realises this will cause even more confusion and suspicion from Daniel. "What year is it?"

The city, made up of uniform brown-gray buildings, looks vaguely like it belongs in some past era of human industrialism and the streets are almost completely empty. The civilians have all either fled or are in hiding, which has Daniel peripherally worried but he's more concerned about his unexpected charge at the moment.

"Um." He looks at him oddly, but it's hardly the strangest question he's gotten in this line of work. With the variation of planets and different sun cycles, there's bound to be discrepancies. "2004. At least, it is on Earth. I don't know how they record time here."

He pokes a door of one of the innumerable houses open with the nozzle of the P-90 and peers inside, but the place looks deserted. A quick sweep of the floors and walls don't reveal any access to an underground shelter, so Daniel assumes the place is deserted. A faint rumble rattles some unseen cutlery in the drawers but he goes and rummages through some of the cupboards and boxes anyway.

"Here." He exits with a pair of extremely battered looking boots and holds them out to Seth with a mild grimace. "Hope they're your size. Cutting your foot open around here is, well, really not something we wanna have happen." But Daniel imagines Seth's gathered that by now.

2004. So, anywhere between just under two years or almost no time at all before Daniel fell through the Rift, depending what time of year it is now and what it was when Daniel fell through -- will be when... But then, if Seth met Daniel in his past, then Daniel would know Seth, wouldn't he? So maybe this isn't the same Daniel. Or maybe -- who knows? Seth sure doesn't.

He doesn't know what Daniel's looking for, so he keeps a lookout while Daniel rummages around, though he makes sure not to let him completely out of his sight or too far away to reach him in time, should something happen. He suddenly becomes more aware of what he's wearing, and remembers his shirt has been open this entire time, so he reaches up to button it. He fumbles a little, but his hands aren't shaking as much as they were earlier.

When he realises what Daniel was looking for, he is immensely grateful. "Thanks," he says, taking them from him and brushing off his feet a bit before putting them on. They're a little tight, but it's a far cry better than being barefoot. Hopefully now they can move a bit quicker too, and maybe he looks a little bit less like he's just rolled out of bed. Although the dust and dirt that covers them both probably does that well enough.

In this process, he also suddenly realises that he can't feel the weight of the gun anymore. He feels for it, but there's nothing there. He realises he must've lost it before Daniel rammed into him, or he's pretty sure he would've felt landing on it. It probably happened while Daniel was practically dragging him along. Seth hadn't been aware enough to notice then.

"I.. I've lost the gun," he tells Daniel self-consciously. Not that he had any intention on using it, but he feels guilty for losing it.

He keeps a lookout while Seth gets the things on. Daniel wishes he could find him better protection, especially seeing as shrapnel and bullets have been aimed at them both in high capacity.

"I have enough clips to last us a while," Daniel assures him, but he can't fully mask the low twist of disappointment. Now the man really is defenseless. He's hoping his phasing power should keep him safe, providing he gets fair warning to use it. "Couple grenades, though ideally it won't come to that."

The sentence trails off as an idea starts to solidify. A very very supremely bad idea, but they're cut off and alone and up against three warring factions that have no interest in them save for what they mean as a military resource.

"Or maybe it should come to that." He glances at Seth again, chest tightening. He's loathe to ask the man to risk his life, but it might mean their only chance of getting back to Earth. "How, er, how long can you shift phase for? Can you localize it?"

"Uh," Seth answers, frowning up at him in confusion. "Yeah. It, uh, it depends. Longer with smaller areas. Few minutes in total, at most."

He walked through a lot of walls when he escaped from the base, which had left him completely drained, and had mostly been fueled by desperation. But he's not all that great with extended phasing. When he just has to get through something, it only takes a few seconds. If he's stuck in something for longer, like just now with the rubble, it takes a lot more out of him.

"Why?" he asks warily. Something in Daniel's question makes him worried. Not to mention the discussion of grenades.

"Just a plan," he explains cautiously. "Well, the beginnings of one. The seeds of an idea that might hopefully mature into a plan, possibly. We shouldn't stay in one place for too long, come on."

He starts walking in the direction intended to make a sweeping curve that will bring them, eventually, back toward the bunker. They need to draw fire away from the gate. That's the objective, simple, clear-cut. Daniel exhausted his C4 pretty much immediately, Seth is weaponless, leaving them with a soon-to-be useless P-90, a few grenades, and the power to phase through buildings for a highly limited amount of time.

Well, Daniel's worked with less.

"We don't need a whole lot of time," he explains as they go. "Just enough to get into the bunker, dial the gate, and get through to Earth. It's possible the SG - well, uh, it's possible reinforcements will be coming through too, but we can't hinge anything on that since it's not a given."

Seth follows along after him, suddenly very thankful for the existence of footwear. His feet are still sore, but at least now it's not like every step is making it worse (potentially much worse, depending on what he steps on). Now he can actually focus on his surroundings, try his best to be alert. Not that he feels all that alert. There are too many thoughts, and too many things happening, or at least the constant threat of too many things.

He doesn't really understand what 'dialing the gate' means, but presumably he won't need to. That thing he came through? It goes to Earth? Apparently. He's not enthused about going back down there, but neither would he like to stay up here. Seems no matter where he goes on this planet, they're getting shot at. So getting back to Earth sounds pretty appealing, all things considered.

Most important question first, though. "What do you need me to do?"

"Look, I -" He pauses, nibbling at his lip. He doesn't want to ask this of Seth - he shouldn't have to ask it of anyone.

"I don't want you to have to do this. I don't."

Neither did he plan on killing anyone when SG-1 made first contact, a simple routine mission. He hadn't wanted that either. He'd had every peaceful intention in mind when he stepped through that gate, again and again, in an attempt to fix a problem he helped create.

"But the fact is, you can - you can move where other people can't. You can, technically, be immune to weapons fire for a short time. Can't you?"

There is a definite building sensation of dread, coldly solidifying somewhere in his stomach as Daniel goes on.

He wants to pretend he doesn't know what Daniel is getting at. Perhaps Daniel is only asking him to put himself in the line of fire. Seth can do that. He doesn't want to do that, but if completely necessary, he is able to do that. Particularly if it means Daniel returning home safe. If he can bring that about, then it's worth it.

"Yeah," he confirms quietly.

He's never actually tested that. Funnily enough, letting people shoot at him to test the limits of his power hasn't seemed tempting. He knows he's been able to phase through other things purely by reflex, but it's one thing to pull your hand out of a fire before it burns you, and quite another to dodge a speeding bullet. But if he anticipates it, if he intentionally makes himself intangible to potential projectiles, however fast they are, then it should work.

He swallows hard, shuts his eyes, and slows his brisk pace for a minute.

"I don't want to have to ask this. Bottom line, no one should be asked to do this, no one short of, I dunno, military personnel who have already signed up for this." The iron tautness in his chest constricts, again. And again. The moral judgment, self-directed and entrenched in guilt as he considers the tactics that are so firmly polarized to what he is.

"And if anyone should do it? It should be me. This, the war, everything, it was - it is - my fault. I should be the one this comes down on, not -"

Not the entire planet. Not the innocent civilian who's been unnaturally, unfairly launched into this. Not the thousands or millions who will die because of failed diplomacy and his own stupidity and humanity's inherent, self-destructive damned curiosity.

Daniel pauses to retrieve two grenades and holds them in his free hand, simply displaying them. He will not offer them. This is not absolute. This is not fixed. There is a choice, and he has to make this abundantly clear.

He has that obligation.

"If we can draw them off," he explains evenly. "And divert them through explosive force, we would have enough time to get back through the gate."

Edited 2014-12-06 01:35 (UTC)

Seth remains quiet. It becomes increasingly difficult to pretend to himself that he doesn't know what Daniel is asking. He wouldn't be making such a big deal of it otherwise. He's already handed Seth a gun, with not nearly the same amount of gravitas. And the fact that weapons fire will be involved means people will be involved.

"You're asking me to kill," Seth clarifies.

He doesn't want to skirt around it, doesn't want to cover it in euphemisms. He wants Daniel to be clear in what he is asking, no matter how reluctantly he's doing it. Presumably the goal would not be death or injury, but it would undoubtably be an inevitable result.

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tw: mild panic

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tw: messed up moral dilemmas??