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applesaucedream2014-11-28 03:50 pm
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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.]
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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Weirdly enough, Daniel swearing seems to snap some of his mental faculities back into place, and there's a certain perplexedness mixed in with the way Seth is looking at him now. (Not that the terror has quite left him yet.)
"That's - That's the first time I've heard you swear like that," he comments blankly. Not sure exactly why this is important to note right now.
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The guy shows up out of the blue - the literal blue, mind, straight from the stargate without even realizing it - allegedly from Earth, and he can inexplicably shift phase and knows Daniel's name and is clearly familiar with him in some way. That's too many strange variables lining up under Seth's name. Daniel's definitely going to need an explanation.
This'll have to be later, it seems like, because a fresh barrage of explosions rips through a strip of buildings that's little more than a few blocks away, and Daniel is forcibly reminded that they are in fact standing in the middle of an intraplanetary civil war.
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"Look," he says, gesturing a little jerkily with his still raised hands. "The, the.. The gate. Dialing. Whatever. How long does it take, between getting there and uh, getting, um, out of there?"
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"I can draw their attention, it's not a big deal." Yes, casually murdering a couple dozen individuals isn't a big deal, clearly. Daniel wonders what kind of awful first impression he's making before realizing that, evidently, this isn't the first impression he's made. Which is confusing. Moving on. "Your job will be to get to the pedestal in front of the gate, looks sorta round and has a bunch of symbols on it. I'll show you the ones you hit to dial Earth."
And here's where it gets complicated. Well. More complicated.
"The important bit: you can't go through right away. You do not go through until I say, understand? I have to input the right code so we don't die the minute we step through." He has to make an effort to slow down to make sure Seth gets all of it and not go at his usual breakneck pace. "Transfer itself takes about oh-point-three seconds, it's just the setup we have to be careful about."
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"But. I can, I mean--" he begins, reaching up to run a hand through his dust-covered hair. Words don't seem to be coming easy at the moment, what with everything he has to absorb, and how he is trying not to have an emotional breakdown regarding what they've been talking about and Daniel's sudden, terrifying distrust. Seth is stranded in a new universe, and the one person he knows and trusts seems to decide shooting him is a viable option, even just for a second. It's not easy to cope with all of this.
"Phasing. I can make us both, you know, so they can't... We can still dial, but they won't be able to attack us," he tries to explain. Badly.
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Ideally.
Seth really, really is not suited for combat. At all. Daniel mentally kicks himself for ever suggesting he be the one to cause the diversion.
"But," Daniel continues, knowing full well that a worst case scenario is probably imminent, "you'll probably hear me coming back if there's gunfire. In which case, phase yourself out or hide until I can send the GDO and give you the signal to step through. If you're out of phase you'll still make the transfer. You can trust me on that," he adds darkly. "I know that much from experience."
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Daniel's last comment provides another small glimpse into the source of his problems with phasing, even if it's not overly specific.
"But. Can we get in there, with my power, but without," Seth says, gesturing at the grenades to finish his question. Not being in immediate danger is not currently his concert, it's Daniel he's worried about. And if at all possible, he would like as little bloodshed as they can manage.
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Daniel smiles thinly, regretful and entirely without humor.
"It's not looking like." He says it as gently as he can. Hopefully Seth will be well away from the center of the conflict, enough that he won't have to see. "If all you have is a few minutes, I'm going to need to buy you as much as I can. And these're all we have for distractions."
He holds the grenades up for a minute, eyebrows drawing into a concentrated, mournful knot before he drops his hand again.
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Perhaps it's a good thing Daniel doesn't know him, because it's painful enough having this conversation. If this Daniel knew Seth as well as the other does (did? will?), it would surely be even harder to discuss.
"We're friends," he says, swallowing and staring at the ground as he walks, clenching his fists a little. "You and me. Where I come from. In an.. alternate universe."
It's nowhere near a complete explanation, and it's not really where he comes from either. Not originally, at least, even if it's where he was last. And where Daniel was last. The other Daniel.
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"Well, once we're on Earth we can try to figure out how to send you home," he offers. "Back to, well, back to me, I guess."
The buildings are thinning out. They've made one great loop and are now approaching the bunker from the side, where Daniel estimates most of the nearest weapons facilities are based. He doesn't see any figures on the slight incline of grass that would indicate someone's seen them, and the explosions still sound like they're based more deeply in the city.
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He looks up once he notices the grass, looking towards the bunker. He figures this is probably the last chance they have to talk before they're either dead, captured, or back on Earth. Preferably the latter.
"When we get there, don't... don't tell them what I can do. Please," he requests tensely, and there's just a slight hint of desperation. He knows they are basically heading through an enemy base into a friendly base, but it is still a miltary base, and one that has no particular reason to trust him. Or, really, do anything at all for him. But as far as he can tell, it's his only option, and it's where Daniel is going, so that's that.
"I've spent enough of my life being experimented on," he adds darkly, more quiet. At least Daniel doesn't know how Seth came upon this phasing power. If they don't know about that, they might decide he has limited usefulness.
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"It'll have to be selective," he says finally. "I'll tell them as much as I need to but there's no reason it should reach the people who have the authority to take you into custody. As long as I'm there I can tell them you're a refugee. It's true, technically, and you won't be deemed a security risk."
It won't be the first time he's abused the bureaucratic loopholes for someone else's sake, after all.
Daniel smiles, taut and fixed.
"Now let's get ourselves back to Earth, hm?"
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He doesn't manage to return the smile. There is, at the moment, very little to smile about. Currently he's leveled out a little, but he knows as soon as they're inside, he'll be fighting off another breakdown. Which could get not just him, but also Daniel killed. He needs to focus on keeping it together. On just following Daniel and doing what he needs to.
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His stomach wrenches a little at the thought and Daniel fervently hopes Jack isn't bargaining his life for the offer of military support to the rebels. He knows he's been gone long enough for Jack to get desperate, maybe desperate enough to pull something as ill-advised as that. Moral qualms aside, that scenario would just see more lives pointlessly lost on the battlefield.
They get close enough where Daniel can glimpse a few sentries around one corner. He ducks back before they notice and nods to Seth.
"All right. Stay behind me, phase out if they get too close in case a shot gets lucky. Gateroom isn't far but it'll be packed and it'll be noisy. First grenade is the diversion. The second is my signal that you move in." He digs out a pencil and a slip of paper and scribbles seven symbols on it, offers it to Seth.
"Those are the symbols you dial. Stick to that order, and don't go through until I say. All right?"
He searches the other man's gaze, jaw locked. He wishes Seth still had the gun. He doesn't want to send him in defenseless, but at least he has a means of evasion.
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Finally he looks up and nods, teeth gritted. He doesn't quite trust his voice at the moment. And to be honest he's almost a little glad he doesn't have a gun. One less thing to focus on, and he doesn't think he'd be much good with one anyway.
Now he can just concentrate on a few simple things. A) Try not to get shot, B) try to avoid Daniel getting shot if he can, and C) open the gate. He supposes as long as it's not a fatal wound, they can deal with getting shot as long as they get through the gate. A military base would probably have the equipment to patch that up. That's one good thing at least.
tw: npc deaths galore
He shoots Seth a brief, fortifying smile and tears out from around the corridor, opens fire on the two sentries. Before they've even slumped against the walls, now slick with trailed red, the sounds of running footsteps and shouting indicate he's raised a decent ruckus. Daniel stoops to retrieve one of the fallen rebels' weapons and bolts down one of the adjacent hallways, praying Seth will wait for his signal. He leads his pursuers on a brief but merry chase before he's able to pick them off, then doubles back to start shooting his way to the bunker's gateroom.
The one-man assault works surprisingly well, at least at first, primarily thanks to the confining nature of the halls and the rebels' general disorganization. They've been gaining ground through force and conquered resources, not necessarily due to any great tactical skill. As anticipated, most of them have clustered around the gate as their holy symbol. Daniel pulls the pin out of grenade number one and lobs it into the small, vulnerable tomb that is the bunker's gateroom, steels himself against the crescendo of panicked shouts and the scramble of doomed footsteps.
It goes off in a loud spray of dust and howls, then silence.
Daniel breathes.
The remaining rebels will start spilling his way any minute, and Daniel needs to head them off to give Seth time. He tosses the signal grenade in with a nauseating tearing in his chest; he doesn't dare confront what kind of man he is in that moment.
He locates suitable cover a safe distance from the gateroom, takes his position, loads his second-to-last magazine, waits for them to come and hopes they come quickly, before he has enough time to examine what he's doing for his and Seth's sake.
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He mostly manages to keep out of sight, though at one point two rebels spot him unexpectedly and start shooting. Being on as high alert as Seth is probably capable of, the bullets pass right through him, and he ends up ducking through a wall into a thankfully empty room. While there, he can hear the first grenade go off and he closes his eyes for a moment, trying not to contemplate what is happening, trying to distance himself from the reality of it.
When he steps back out through the wall, the two who had spotted him are gone, and Seth continues on his way, his mind filled with steely resolve to try to block out the fear and disgust. Once the second grenade goes off, he hurries into the gateroom.
It's not pleasant. For a moment it's all he can do not to throw up again. The worst thing is the smell, he realises, which is also the hardest to block out.
But the pedestal is easy enough to spot, and at least he can focus on that. Just dial Earth, and it will be fine. It's a bit more complicated than a phone, with something like three dozen symbols, and he unfurls the piece of paper, which has gotten pretty wrinkled from how hard he's been clenching his hand around it. It takes a lot of effort to hurry while still being certain he's pressing the right keys.
But each one lights up in an encouraging way when he presses it, with satisfying chinks, and there's lights on the gate as well. He presses in the seventh symbol and looks up at the gate. Nothing seems to be happening, and there's a flash of panic that he did something wrong.
tw: explosions and injury and pain
A fresh wave of blue sprays outward then compresses into the shimmering wall of its localized wormhole. Immediately, a good dozen or so heavily armed soldiers pour through, all clad in SG-team BDUs. Several train their weapons on the first figure they see, the one that apparently was attempting to dial out before Earth could get a lock on Tegalus.
"Rebel?" one of them asks, directing the question at the colonel present.
Daniel, meanwhile, is being forced into a retreat. His last magazine stutters and the gun clicks, useless, and he's left with no other options than to run and hope that Seth's managed to dial the gate successfully. He sprints down the hall but there's no sound of pursuing footsteps, just a clatter that would indicate -
He grimaces and speeds up. Why would he be the only one with grenades?
With the constraining nature of the bunker's schematics, Daniel knows there's no way he'll be able to clear the blast in time. He registers it hollowly and tries anyway, pushes himself forward, he can see the bunker gateroom just ahead an instant before the outward projection of force slams into him and kicks him forward. The momentum carries him in a stunted, skidding roll and he can hear distant shouts, make out the faint pulsing glow of blue from the gate - Seth got it open, he did, but there are too many people in front of it, did the diversion not work? Daniel knows the explosion's done something but his nerves feel like they've been burned out and he can't distinguish one form of pain from the other.
He needs to get up and move but he's having enough trouble staying conscious.
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And then suddenly there are guns being pointed at him again, and Seth's arms go up automatically, the universal sign of oh God please don't shoot. The outfits match Daniel's though, which affords him a glimmer of hope and relief. As much as you can have when you are being threatened with firearms. Hopefully these are the reinforcements Daniel mentioned.
When someone asks if he's a rebel, he shakes his head fervently, even if they weren't actually asking him. And just in case they decide to open fire, he's keeping himself intangible, despite the toll it's taking on him. He knows he'll have to stop doing it before they decide to touch him, lest they find out what he can do, but while all those guns are trained in his direction, well...
And then all of sudden there's another explosion, and Seth whips around immediately. "Daniel!" It would be impossible to stop himself from reacting, and equally impossible to keep the desperation and terror out of his voice. Seth's frozen in place, wanting to run to Daniel, but terrified they'll shoot him if he does. Oh God, please let him be alright, oh God...
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"Oh, fucking christ."
"Come on, get him out, get him out!"
There are numerous hands moving him and apparently trying to be gentle about it but Daniel's ears are ringing too loudly for him to make sense of it, much less recognize who any of the words belong to.
He dimly registers, however, the one figure that is not uniform, that stands with its hands up and is so plainly terrified, and Daniel remembers Seth, Seth needs to get back to Earth too but those are an awful lot of guns aimed at him for a precautionary measure and Seth doesn't do well with guns, even with Daniel's limited exposure to him he knows this but the foreign hand that reaches to support his head comes away slick and red. At some point he exists in an upright state though not of his own volition. Someone must be supporting him. Someone - he can't tell who.
"Seth." Daniel must align all his focus to make the word articulate, he concentrates all his willpower to get his eyes to stare at the shape that he desperately hopes is Seth, that certainly resembles Seth but his perception of movement is so delayed that he's having trouble believing it.
"He's a friend," he slurs, wishing he had the muscle memory to implement pointing, just so he could pick Seth out from the smeared mass of shapes that is all he can distinguish currently. "He's a friend. Doyouundersan'?"
There's a colonel nearby, probably, and that's who he's going to assume that question got forwarded to. The SGC puts a great deal of faith in its colonels.
"You sure, Jackson?"
"He's pretty bad off. Sir."
"You think the man's taken a complete leave of common sense?"
"Think he had any to start with?"
"For fuck's - you!" The words are barked with more hostility. Directed at Seth? Daniel hopes so. "Come on, let's move!"
Daniel needs to warn Seth about the transfer, how disorienting it can be the first time through, but he's falling through the gate before he can pin down the words necessary.
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His voice is so weak and slurred that Seth can barely hear him, and when he realises Daniel is calling him a friend, there's a sharp twist in his stomach that reminds him yes, he does still have a body and it is capable of feeling things that is not fear. And all he can do is watch, he wants to help, he wants to run over and help carry Daniel and reassure him it's going to be alright, to not let him out of his sight, but he can't.
He flinches a little at being suddenly addressed, the combination of worry about Daniel and the guns pointed at himself giving him an incredibly heightened sense of anxiety and skittishness.
However, there's only about a second's hesitation before he does what he's told, following towards the gate. He assumes at this point they won't actually shoot him unless he does something obviously aggressive, but he doesn't know what they'll do with him, and it's pretty obvious they're not even slightly inclined to trust him. He keeps his hands out from his sides and clearly visible, even if he is very obviously unarmed. It's not like he could really hide a weapon in what his basically his pyjamas. But he's hardly going to take his chances with this.
He hesitates again at the liquid-like substance, but he's not given any chance to steel himself for it, because almost immediately someone roughly nudges him in the back with the butt of their gun, and he more or less stumbles through.
It's not a fun experience, but at least it's over quickly. He doesn't have time to really take in the room he enters, except for it being grey and utilitarian and filled with even more guns pointed in his direction, because going through the gate after already being so weakened and strained and pushed to his limit makes him completely disoriented. He half trips, half simply sinks forward onto his hands and knees, and for a moment he can't stop himself from retching, even if he probably expelled all he could earlier. He lifts his head and he can see Daniel being carried off, and he desperately wants to follow, but he neither thinks he's allowed nor able to.
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"Stand down," growls the colonel wearily at gateroom security, his name patch indicating him to be Col. Reynolds. "Just a refugee. I'm assuming?"
The gate security teams reluctantly lower their weapons, eying the latest recipient of Daniel Jackson's insufferably charitable humanitarianism guardedly.
"All right." He's not pointing a weapon at the guy but he's looking at him like he'd like to. "We're taking a walk to iso, so you can spill. Why was Jackson so sold on getting you here?"
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He wipes at his mouth with his sleeve, though there's nothing there but some spit and dust. He's remained remarkably blood-free in this whole affair, apart from the few scrapes and minor wounds he's gotten from shrapnel and debris. He hasn't had time to examine himself, he just knows he kind of hurts all over. But surely some of that is simply his mental state, shock, whatever.
Sitting back onto his heels, he looks up at the man speaking to him. He thinks he might be too exhausted to go anywhere without help, but judging by the phrase 'taking a walk', he's not sure he has much choice. The rest of his words take a bit longer to parse, and his brain seems to be working unbelievably slowly now he's no longer in mortal danger. He wouldn't go so far as to say he's safe, but he's no longer moments away from death.
Jackson, he realises after a moment, means Daniel. 'Iso' takes a bit longer. Isolation? He prays that's not what he means, because that sounds like the last thing he needs right now, but again he's not sure he can really argue. He also doesn't know what to tell them. Telling the truth isn't always the best idea with hostile government personnel, but since he has no idea what they want to hear, making something up would probably be even worse. Especially since Daniel is not here to speak for him. He'll at least have to stick with the things he's told Daniel, so that when Daniel wakes up, their stories will match.
"I'm from Earth," he says, his voice sounding surprisingly hoarse. He holds out the piece of paper he's been clutching this entire time, since he no longer has any need of it, and hopefully it shows that Daniel had definitely been intending for Seth to come here. "He was helping me-- We were helping each other get back."
Not that he was an awful lot of help. More of a burden, definitely. Daniel would probably still be fine if didn't have to drag Seth around everywhere. Sure, Seth had saved their lives earlier, but Daniel probably wouldn't have needed saving if it weren't for him. And now Daniel is injured, and who knows if he'll even make it, but no, Seth can't bear to think about that possibility right now.
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Someone does. Seeing as he's not in a state of medical emergency, two someones, both SFs and with very little consideration for Seth's apparent discomfort, escort him up six levels and through the subterranean halls into a small and windowless room furnished with one table and two chairs and little else, where their orders have apparently decided they leave him while the information makes its way up the appropriate strata of command and back down again.
For hours.
This is not typical protocol, but the implementation of subconscious terrors in nightmares hasn't stopped with Daniel's own past regrets; it's pulling from Seth's lingering fears as well and applying them just as liberally.
That doesn't mean Daniel's subconscious won't be throwing Seth a bone, however. Eventually, after the seemingly interminable waiting period, the door opens.
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As it is, Seth remains quiet, and they don't ask him anything further, and then he gets dumped into what is definitely an interrogation room.
Under different circumstances, he might've railed against this treatment. Demanded to be seen, to be informed what's going on, to be acknowledged at all. He knows himself well enough to know he's not above lashing out at his cage and his captors.
Two things are stopping him. One is the hope that soon Daniel will wake up and come see him, or speak for him, and that if Seth behaves aggressively then that will definitely count against him. The other is that he's just so completely exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Spiritually too, but he's not sure he's been all that great there for ages.
Most of his time is spent on the floor, leaned against the wall. There's a chair there, sure, but it's not actually that much more comfortable, and when he's all alone it somehow just makes everything more stressful. So exposed, in the center of the room. He'd rather be along the edges, back to the wall. It's easier on his claustrophobia, seeing as much of the room as possible, rather than having it pressing in from all directions.
Time passes unbearably slow, and it's impossible to guess how long he's been in there. He's tired and hungry and thirsty, but physical needs seem to take a backseat. Regardless of how tired he is, he couldn't sleep here. He wonders if they'll keep him in here long enough to go into withdrawal. He wonders if it's already starting.
He breaks down twice while waiting, each time until it seems like there's no more emotion or tears to wring out of him. He's not even sure what he's specifically upset about when it happens. It's just all too much, and it doesn't seem focused on one particular thing. Sometimes the sounds or the images of the people Daniel killed. Daniel asking him to kill. Memories of his Daniel, the one who knows him, both things that happened and things that didn't. Gabe, and Johnny, and his apartment. Kelly, or Shannon. Even Manchester, which he hasn't seen in years. Happy and sad things alike. The topics capable of upsetting him seem endless.
And then, at last, at long last, the sharp sound of the door opening, and Seth lifts his head to look.
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tw: suicide ideation, so much trauma, very heavy
tw: more trauma, more suicide ideation, this thread is awful
tw: actual suicide attempt
tw: injury, guns
tw: just assume the earlier warnings keep applying
see above re: this thread is in all ways terrible