LINK BY PHOENIXE
||Jack and Daniel involved in a loving and committed
relationship, which usually involves sex.
||First Time, Angst, Drama, Hurt, Comfort
||Season 4 First Story in the "Wild Side" Series.
||A desperate night rescue...
||Violence, Language, Intense emotional situations.
||37 Kb Originally completed some time in 2002? I received
some requests to have a follow-up story retelling it from the perspective
of the other participant and finally got around to doing it a year or so
later. A slightly revamped version of this story, along with Primal Instinct,
became the "Wild Side" series and first debuted in June 2003 in the JD
Six Pack #2 zine by Yadda Press. The 'Wild Side' series was also included
in the Reprise in 2004, and now here it is online.
him, they've taken him. Thought they
were clever, thought no one saw, thought
they'd escaped undetected. They
don't know I saw them; don't know I'm
behind them. Coming for them.
others, the others, I tried to get them to
come but they're sleeping - how – how -
how can they sleep
when enemies have stolen in amongst
us, taken him! Can't wait for them,
can't wait, the longer I wait the farther
away they take him.
left them, locked in their useless
slumber, slipped out and into the night,
feeling it wrap around me, an ally, and a
friend. Running swiftly, surely,
following, one with the darkness, silent,
relentless. Following the enemies, despoilers,
mauraders, following him. No stopping,
no resting, no faltering. Won't fail
him, they can't have him, they won't
take him from me.
can run to the ends of the Earth and I'll
still find him. I can smell him, feel him,
singing in my blood, calling to me.
His scent flies to me on the wings
of the wind, blazing a trail as bright
as midnight. They can't keep him from
me, can't hide him from me. It
doesn't matter where they take him I'll
mine, mine, singing in my blood running,
panting, smelling, feeling, wanting,
mine, must have him, you can't have
him, nothing will stop me, keep me
from him, not darkness, distance, obstacles,
His blood, the smell, sweet and
terrifying, mingling with the scent of
sweat and pain. Faster, must run faster,
feed on the darkness around me, draw
strength from the wind, fly, feel the
ground vanish beneath me as I race,
barely touching, stronger, faster,
closing the distance, closer, coming
closer, they don't know I'm coming,
death flying on the fully furled wings
of darkness, coming for him.
dead men, they don't know the tattered
threads of their miserable lives are
about to be cut short. I'm right behind
them, they touch him, they hurt him, dead, dead,
they’re dead, kill them all nothing
matters but him.
to me, he's still calling, his scent
filling my nostrils, his taste on my
tongue, need burning me, pulling me,
binding me, drawing me forward.
the wind, drinking the night, feeling the
fire of him beating in my chest. Not far beyond me
now, I can smell all of them, stopping,
resting, they think they're safe.
Not long 'til dawn, can feel the night
around me shuddering with the knowledge
of its inevitable surrender to the
day but for now it's still with me,
hiding me, there's still enough time.
The darkness is my friend; together
we'll save him.
scenting, prowling the outskirts. Hidden,
burning, stalking, sensing. Not close
enough to see the camp but my other
senses tell me everything I need to
know. His scent, brighter, stronger
than all the rest, calling, filling
me. Feel his pain, confusion, rage,
burning, searing, no, mustn't - mustn't
lose control, must stay calm, focussed,
he needs me, job to do.
are the bastards, the beasts who have
taken him, hurt him. The ones who
stand between me and what's mine.
of them, foul-smelling, sour, their
disgusting musk cloying in my nostrils.
Easy to find them in the darkness.
Confident, careless, they think anyone
who would hunt them, stop them is miles
away, safely sleeping, no one is following
them, they have time to rest, sleep,
nothing to worry about.
one sentry. Moving clumsily, making
enough noise to clearly mark him even
if I couldn't smell him. Easy to find
in the darkness I glide toward him
silent, determined, knife drawn, hungry,
up swiftly, grasping, hand over his mouth,
he doesn't even have time to make a
sound as I draw the knife swiftly across
his throat, slashing cleanly, his blood
spurting warmly across my hand. Covering
me, cloying, stinking, reeking, wet,
Drop him quietly, carefully, no
mistakes, he's dead before he hits the
ground. Not a sound, nothing betrays his
passing. He never saw me, never knew. Now he knows nothing.
for the rest of them.
enough to see the camp now. My eyes
strain through the flickering light of the
campfire as I crouch in the darkness,
looking, trying to see him.
There he is, on the far side of the fire,
almost out of the light. Lying on
the ground, on his side, bound hand and
foot; even from this distance I can
see they've hurt him. Smelled his
blood, feeling it at the back of my
throat, now I can see, bruises on his
face, his beautiful, beautiful face.
They've beat him, hurt him, I know
he fought them, he would fight them,
he wouldn't be still, wouldn't have
let them take him without a struggle.
The bruises the price he paid for his
won't let them hurt him any more. He
doesn't know it yet, doesn't know I'm
here, not for sure, but he must know I'd
never stop, never rest - he has to know
I wouldn't let anyone take him away
from me. He's lying so still, his
eyes closed, but he's not unconscious.
I can feel the rapid beating of his
heart pounding in my blood; can hear
the harsh pain of his breathing. Don't
worry, it won't be long. I'm here.
I won't let them hurt you any more.
can see all four of them, sitting around
the fire. Close to him, they're still too
close to him. They could still - but
I can't wait much longer. The dawn
is coming, prickling my bones, stripping
away the mantle of my friend the night.
I have to be swift; it has to be soon.
of them, getting up, laughing at his
fellows, looking back at him.
Laughing again, starting to move toward
him, the firelight sheering across the
shining surface of the knife in his hand.
even thinking, just moving, surging up
from the blackness, breaking cover, my gun
jumping in my hand, the rising man screams
as the back of his head explodes, he crumples to the
ground, firing again, first one, then
the other, two, three murdering bastards
who will never hurt anyone ever again,
running to him, still firing, the last
one, crawling, sobbing, sighting on
him, no mercy, dead man, all of you
dead, dead, dead, dead, dead -
to me, he's calling to me, struggling to
sit up, straining to reach out to me, to
show me he's all right. Stop?
Telling me to stop? Don't have to?
No more killing?
last sniveling cur runs sobbing into the
darkness, it won’t help him the way it
helped me. He no longer matters, Jack
is all I see, I run to him, fall to
my knees beside him, crush him to me,
his smell, his reality filling me,
safe, safe, found you, touching you,
tasting you, Jack, Jack. Did it, I
did it. Found you, found you, found
free his hands, still holding him, I can't
seem to let go. His arms come around
me, stroking, comforting, I hear him
speaking quietly to me, but I'm not sure
what he's saying. Lost, lost in the
feel of him, the need for him, falling
farther and farther away from thought,
reason, the smell of blood, the smell
of him all I know.
Danny, easy," he says as I take his
face in my hands. His eyes are wide,
dark, filled with confusion and wild
disbelief. He doesn't understand I've
earned him, I claim him, he's mine.
Doesn't understand what I want but I'm
past being able to hold it back. The
blood is calling, rising, screaming
inside me for release.
makes a small sound of surprise as I take
him, hungry, devouring, brutally grinding
my mouth into his, feeling, seeking,
tasting, wanting so much more. I
kiss him furiously, mindlessly, clutching
the back of his head, clasping his
warm, gasping body tight against me.
Not fighting me, he's still not fighting
me, not moving, feeling me moaning
into him, thrusting my hardness against
him, not moving toward, not moving
away and then –
like steel surround me, hot answering
breath, panting my name, wet, seeking lips
pressing, tongue rasping hungrily across
my mouth, God, oh
God, the smell of his
feel of his hands, sweet salt on my
tongue, blood boiling, bliss roaring,
falling as my senses scream and short –
been pretty quiet so far. I'm not
much inclined to conversation myself, for
a change. I just look out the window
and content myself with not watching
the scenery flowing past the window
as Jack drives me home.
is probably the most time we've spent
together since we returned from P3G-956.
We got back three days ago but Janet only
just released me from the infirmary.
Jack was luckier. The Mallik raiding
party kicked him around some while
they were trying to get him back to
their lines to use him as a bargaining
chip in their war against our hosts,
but all he got out of the experience
was a few bumps and bruises. His face
is still looking quite spectacular,
but thank God, he wasn't badly hurt.
then there's me.
I wasn't so lucky.
I seemed to have had a rather
severe reaction to the sleeping potion the
Mallik spy slipped us at the banquet
that night. Maybe I was allergic to
something in it – or it reacted badly
with my body chemistry, or something,
I have no idea, but whatever it did
to my system had Janet shaking her
head at my blood work for days. Apparently
instead of putting me out for a lovely
ten hour nap like it did everyone else
it sorta kinda had the opposite effect. For some reason
what was supposed to be a knockout
drop acted like a powerful stimulant,
enhancing my senses and generally making
me act a bit…nuts.
For considerably longer than ten
hours. The hallucinogenic
effect was what had them really concerned.
Apparently I was on a raging high, out
of my mind and a bit - dangerous - for
over thirty-six hours.
been telling them I don't remember much,
if anything, about the whole incident.
That's only partly true. I don't
remember anything after - after I found
Jack. How we got back, going nuts
when we got back, what I did or said
in the infirmary until the stuff worked
its way out of my system is pretty
much a blur. But the other stuff,
what happened before…
remember, but I've told all of them I
don't. Told Jack I don't – don't
It'll be easier on him, that way.
Better he thinks I have no recollection of
what I felt, what I did, no memory of the
hunting, the killing, I didn't take
him, didn't - didn't kiss him, he's
the only one who knows what went on
between us. Better this way, he won't
be afraid to come near me, to talk
to me. Be in the same room with me.
If he thinks I don't remember then
nothing really happened and we can
be friends again. The way we were.
I hope we can be friends again. I
hope I can learn to forget for real…
taste, his smell, they're still all
over me, branded on my memory by the
madness of that night. What was always
inside me lurking beneath the surface,
buried beneath layers of denial now
cries for him. It's alive and hungry,
sparked by the danger, erupted by his
peril, bound to him by the awakening
that linked us and enabled me to find
part of me.
He's part of me; imprinted on my
soul. How can I - how can I
bite down hard on my bottom lip, biting
back a sob and keep staring out the
window, turning my face from him until it
passes, until I get control of myself
again. It's just; he's so close, so
real, filling the compartment, his
scent swelling within me. I can't
take a breath without breathing him
in, wanting, wanting to touch, to taste.
he says gently. "You
nod. I don't dare say anything; I
don't trust my voice, and I sure can't
look at him. Are we there yet, are
we there yet, I have to get out of
the truck, maybe if he's not so close
it won't be so hard.
hard. Killing me it's so hard. I
grind my fist down into my lap.
Pain, aching, it doesn't help. I
can't make it stop, go away. God, oh
God, I have to get away from him before I
- before I –
look at me," he says. Not so
gently this time.
I turn toward him. I don't know what
I'll see. Confusion?
Revulsion? Can he even stand to look
at me now? After what he saw me do to
those men - what he felt me do to him?
All the blood on my hands, the stench of
it, covering me, and yet, his smell, the
feeling of his skin, hot and flushed
in my hands, wet, wild mouth.
God, I remember his mouth.
eyes don't leave the road until he pulls
the truck over to the side and stops.
He leaves the motor running and he shifts
about, laying his arm across the back
of the seat, reaching toward but not
quite touching. And his eyes…
eyes! So dark, searching me,
troubled but not - not the way I was
expecting. He's looking for
something, hoping and yet barely letting
for a sign?
much do you remember?" he looks
away from me suddenly as he starts to
speak, apparently becoming fascinated with
the part of the seat his fingers are
can barely breathe. I don't know
what to say, I'm not quite sure what he
wants to hear. I think I know, hope
I know, but I'm not sure. Then I see
it, smell it, the small beads of sweat
dotting his brow, the sharp, expectant
tang of musky excitement. He's
breathing hard, licking his lips
nervously, the pupils of his eyes dark and
dilated as he risks another glance
can't help myself, I feel my hand reaching
out, toward him, he doesn't move, doesn't
flinch, doesn't look away as I touch
his forehead, catch his sweat on my
fingers and then bring them to my lips.
I smell him, then slowly lick him from
my fingers, taste him. His eyes are
riveted to my tongue, watching me take
him in. Savour
him. He gulps, shudders, and closes
too," he gulps again and reaches out
and takes my hand. The one I’ve
a problem with that?" I can
barely get the words out, the feelings,
feeling him stroking his thumb so
carefully, tenderly across my palm.
I want to moan his name aloud, but hold
it, hold it back.
he murmurs, still stroking my hand.
"You?" he sighs just before he
raises my hand to his lips. They're
so soft, so tender against my skin.
That's good, right?" I want to
touch him, kiss him, hold him, feel him
once more, pressed up to me, naked this
time, skin against skin, skin I can feel,
taste, want to lick…
for me." His voice is low,
thick, aching. He puts my hand down
on my thigh, moves his over, starts
touching, stroking. Oh God, it feels
so good. The heat, burning through
me, caressing fire, so hot, so good.
too," I gasp, moving restively in the
seat. So hard it's hurting, I have
to get out of these clothes, I can't,
can't stand it much longer.
not looking any more comfortable.
And every bit as hungry. He strokes
my thigh carefully, reverently once more
and then looks up at me, his eyes burning
fast can you get us there?"
rams the truck in gear, his eyes locking
with mine once more before he has to give
his full attention over to the road.
Understanding arcs between us. Connection, agreement,
what we both want, what we both need,
what we've both been missing. The
way it is, the way it's always going
to Primal Directive
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