A Christmas to Belong Page 3
Sam turned back to Jack. "Why did the Asgard want to copy you? I mean, the Colonel?"
Jack sighed, then coughed. "Loki wanted to study him, so he made me to take his place. Only the rest of the Asgard did something, so I turned out as a kid with O'Neill's memories instead of full grown."
Sam's eyes grew even wider. "You've got Jack's memories, too?"
"Yep"
Cory's eyebrows pulled together as he thought. "Aren't the Asgard the good guys? The ones with the treaty and all?"
"Treaty?" Mac asked.
"Protected Planets Treaty," Sam explained. "That's what keeps the Goa'uld from invading Earth any time they want. They're afraid the Asgard can kick their collective butts if they give them enough cause. But the Asgard said they'd leave them alone as long as they don't touch certain planets, and O'Neill helped them place Earth on the list."
"So why did they want to duplicate Jack?" Cory waved at the kid in front of him.
"Because Jack is the next evolutionary step in the human race," Mac answered trying to keep a straight face.
"He is? We're doomed," Sam announced.
"Hey!" Jack protested.
"So the end result is that we have two Jack O'Neills," Cory summed up.
"Yeah," Jack replied. He sounded exhausted and still on edge.
"Which isn't all that much weirder than sentinels and guides." Sam pulled out a chair. "Here, sit down."
"You'd like a drink, DJ?" Cory asked, also noticing the kid looked ill.
"Sure."
"DJ?" Mac asked.
"Double Jack."
"Ah."
As Cory turned, he caught Sam's eyes and tapped his chest, looking worried. Sam mouthed, 'pneumonia', and Cory nodded. The two silently exchanged a look, then continued to make their guest comfortable.
* * *
A clone. An honest-to-god human clone. The very thing that governments, scientists and theologians had hotly debated, secure in the knowledge that such a feat was at least a decade out into the future. And here was their greatest hope and fear, sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of soup and discussing The Simpsons with Sam.
Cory was still trying to work his mind around the latest twist for his friend's family. Jim wasn't kidding when he told him two years ago that trouble followed the MacGyver clan, though he doubted Jim could have foreseen this.
In the midst of his turmoil, two things stood out. The kid was very human and still sick. Those two facts kicked at Cory's protective nature. He could hear DJ's weakened lungs working hard. The exhaustion in the young face declared how much it was taking out of him. The sentinel could understand why soft-hearted MacGyver brought him home. No matter how the kid came into being or whose memories he held, he needed help to recover.
He also needed security. Cory could easily imagine the uproar the clone's very existence would cause. There would be those who would consider him an abomination who should be killed immediately. Then there would be those who'd want to tear him apart to figure out how the Asgard had done it. Considering Cory had his own nightmares of being a lab rat, he could sympathize. Then there would be the elderly and the sick lining up, wanting their own clone to transfer their memories into and thus stay alive. DJ wouldn't stand a chance and he knew it. His very survival depended on his true origins remaining secret.
O'Neill hadn't asked to be duplicated. DJ hadn't asked to be made or be given O'Neill's memories. Yet Cory firmly believed that life was precious. DJ was here and very much alive. It was up to the sentinel and his guide's family to make sure he stayed that way.
* * *
"Grandpa!"
Jack looked up from the table to spy Ian race to MacGyver. The curly blond cherub was picked up and hugged tightly. Mac had a huge smile on his face. Jack was going to miss not being Ian's other grandpa.
"And who is this young fella?"
He must be tired to have missed the lady behind Ian. The large African American woman, her hair full of white and gray streaks, was studying him intently.
"This is DJ, Mama Colton," Sam spoke up. He gave Jack a reassuring smile. "He's a nephew of Dad's cousin."
'Mama' Colton only lifted an eyebrow at that. "You look tired, child. You feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," Jack softly replied.
Now Mac was looking him over. "It's been a long day, considering you just got of the hospital this morning. Why don't you take a nap?"
Before he could declare that he wasn't an invalid, Mrs. Colton scolded, "You've kept that boy up this long? Go on, child, scoot off to bed."
Jack raised an eyebrow at the word 'scoot', but knew when not to argue. This woman could give his old drill sergeant lessons. He stood up.
"Ian." Mac walked over with his grandson still in his arms. "This is your cousin DJ."
"Hi, DJ," Ian greeted him, brown eyes huge.
"Hi, Ian," Jack returned with a smile. Seeing another glare from Mrs. Colton, he added, "Maybe we can play later."
"Play?" Ian repeated hopefully.
"Scoot!" Mama Colton ordered.
"Scooting," Jack replied as he walked towards the hallway. He could hear Mac launch into his defense as to why 'DJ' wasn't in bed if he was only just out of the hospital. Jack smirked. There were some benefits to not being an adult.
As he sat on his bed and kicked off his shoes, he considered his new nickname. He had been in military establishments most of his life, so the habit of giving people nicknames wasn't new. As an Army brat, Cory had a knack for it. There were usually two reasons why a person got a nickname -- either they were universally hated, or it was a sign you belonged to the group. The hated people rarely had their nickname spoken to their face. So that meant he fell into the other category. It was a sign Cory was welcoming him into the group. That Sam used it as well also indicated that he had been accepted.
He was a clone, a copy of someone. He hadn't been accepted by anyone who knew the original Jack. Yet first Mac, then Sam and Cory had welcomed him with a speed that made him dizzy. Jack didn't understand it. As his head hit the pillow, he wondered how long this lucky streak would last. He hadn't reached any conclusions before he fell asleep.
* * *
December 19 , 9:30 am, MacGyver's firehouse
Jack tapped his pencil against his geometry book as he read the word problem. The firehouse was quiet with everyone off to work or daycare. He had decided to wade through his backlog of homework before taking a turn at Cory's playstation.
So far, life at the firehouse wasn't too bad. Jack was finding that he still enjoyed talking with Mac, Sam and Cory. They didn't talk down to him, which was a nice change from all the other adults he'd had to deal with since going back to high school. They had also allowed him to set his own schedule. Mostly, Jack had slept. It was frustrating, but his body simply didn't have its normal energy. He would be so glad when he was over this crud. At least he seemed to be doing better today.
After writing down the equation he had gleaned from the problem, Jack quickly calculated the answer and wrote it down in the format Mr. Randell insisted was proper. Carter would be so proud of him, after she died of shock that he could do it. Sure, it wasn't naquada generators, but it was math. Jack was still in shock that he kinda enjoyed it. Not that he would ever admit it, not even under pain of torture.
Jack shook the unpleasant memories that were not really his out of his head and turned his attention to the homework. After three more problems, a knock on the front door broke his concentration.
Frowning, he stood up and walked over to peer through the peephole. Mrs. Colton loomed large on the step. Jack was puzzled, but touched the keypad with his thumb and punched in the code. Once the alarm was disarmed, he opened the door.
"Hi, DJ!" Ian exclaimed as he walked by his startled cousin.
"Ian?" Jack stepped back to allow Mrs. Colton through. "What's up?"
"Apparently, the flu has struck the daycare center, so they're sending all the kids home. MacGyver asked if I could pick up Ian for him." It was all
Jack could do to keep from squirming under the woman's intense gaze. Then she smiled warmly at him. "You're looking better, young man."
"Thank you, ma'am." He glanced over his shoulder to see Ian dragging out his dump truck.
"Are you up to babysitting? MacGyver said you wouldn't mind."
Jack smiled, understanding the level of trust implied by the request. "No, I don't mind, ma'am. Ian and I are buds, aren't we, Ian?"
"Yep," Ian interrupted his engine noises to reply.
"You can just call me Mama, like my boys and all their friends do, child." She studied him a moment more. "I've got a pot of my chicken soup working at home, so I'll just bring some of that over for lunch. That should be good for what ails ya."
"Thank you, ma'am. I mean, Mama. I don't want Ian to get what I had."
"Sam said that Ian had a flu shot, so that should help. His asthma places him in high risk, you know."
Jack nodded. He could easily imagine Sam taking all precautions possible to protect his son. He would do the same in his place.
"Well, I better get back home. Got some invoices to ship out, but I should be in all day. MacGyver has our card on the fridge, so if you have any problems, give me a hollar."
"Will do. Thank you, ma'am. I mean, Mama."
Jack closed the door behind her and turned back to Ian. "No daycare, huh?"
Ian looked up. "Starry and Sage didn't come, so I got to play with the fire truck. Miguel didn't want to play. Miss Lam didn't come, either."
The four-year-old looked healthy enough, but Jack didn't want to take any chances. What was good for colds? Oh yeah, vitamin C. Surely it should work for the flu, too "You want some orange juice?"
"Yum!"
"I'll take that as a yes." Jack walked to the kitchen. Stopping in front of the refrigerator, Jack spied the business cards held to the freezer door with magnets. After a moment, he spotted the one declaring, 'The Colton Brothers: You lose them, We find them.' Jack could feel his mouth drop open. That woman ran an office for bounty hunters? And MacGyver called her to pick up Ian? Maybe clones weren't all that strange in this household.
* * *
Five hours later
A sudden shift of his environment jolted Jack out of a light doze. Lifting up on his elbows, he discovered Ian bouncing on his bed, his teddy bear Tubby held by a paw.
Seeing his new cousin's eyes open, Ian squealed. "You wake!"
"I am now," Jack groaned. He'd forgotten how much energy a four-year-old had. After they had eaten the chicken soup Mama Colton had dropped off, he had hoped to get some peace while Ian napped. Unfortunately, the nap did not last nearly long enough for the still recovering Jack.
"I wanna play!" Ian declared.
Rubbing a hand up and down his face, Jack pondered his options. "Didn't your dad take you to a park yesterday?"
Ian nodded. "I like the swings."
"Do you think you could find the park if I went with you?"
Ian nodded excitedly. "Yep."
"Let me get my shoes on."
The small park was three blocks away from the firehouse. Large trees shaded the grassy landscape. Ian broke away from Jack to run towards the playground in the corner. Jack followed his charge, noting the sturdy construction of the swings, bars, and slide. It was a nice place for kids. A couple of young mothers sat on the nearby bench, watching their young children in the sandbox.
Ian was running around through the loose sand surrounding the equipment. "I wanna swing high, DJ!"
"So you shall, young man, so you shall," Jack returned gaily. Soon he was pushing the small back, watching Ian kick his feet into the air. Reflectively, he wondered what the System Lords would think if they could see him now. Probably be the first time the snakeheads collectively laughed their butts off. On the other hand, he was actually kinda enjoying himself. He could see why Mac lit up every time his grandson was mentioned. The little guy reminded him how wonderful the simple joys of life could be.
Later, while Ian climbed up the steps to the slide, he noted a large white van drive by slowly. As he watched Ian climb the lower rungs of the monkey bars, he spotted it again. Jack frowned. It could be a delivery van, but there was no insignia on the side. It could be just someone looking for a new address. Yet the old covert ops training made Jack memorize the license plate.
Glancing at his watch, Jack called out, "Come on, Ian. Your Dad and Grandpa should be home soon."
"Okay." Ian obediently joined Jack and took his hand. Apparently, the arrival of Sam and Mac were part of Ian's happy routine.
Swinging the small arm, Jack listened to his excited chatter while studying the neighborhood. He and Ian were walking down a quiet side street when the white van skidded to a stop next to them. The side door slid back to reveal two men with black nylon pulled over their heads.
Jack's old training kicked in. "Run, Ian!" he ordered, shoving Ian in the direction of the firehouse. As the boy race down the sidewalk, Jack turned to face the men. As one bogey reached for his arm, Jack spun and kicked him in the gut. Ducking another grab by bogey number two, he sent two sharp jabs into the man's side. Knowing he had achieved a few precious delaying seconds, Jack ran after Ian.
At the end of the block, a red Jeep Cherokee had stopped. Dark arms were pulling Ian into the vehicle. Jack fought back the coughs bubbling up from his chest as he forced a burst of speed. He couldn't let them get away with Ian. As Jack approached, a black teenage boy inside the jeep held out a hand. "Hurry, they're getting back into the van."
Before Jack could figure out what was going on, the kid and his own momentum propelled him into the back seat. Coughing, he found himself being jumped on by Ian as the jeep roared away from the curb. "That was fun, DJ!" Ian told him excitedly.
Jack stared at him, shocked. Yep, the kid was thrilled. Looked like the family had another adrenaline junkie on their hands.
"Do you know who those guys are?" a deep, slightly accented voice asked from the driver's seat.
Warily, Jack shook his head as he continued to cough. A teenage girl, dark hair a mass of braids and colorful beads, turned from the front seat and asked worriedly, "Are you okay? Grandma Colton said you'd been sick."
Relief relaxed Jack's muscles. They were connected to Mama Colton, who led a family bounty hunting business. He and Ian were relatively safe. "I'm -- okay." Then Jack coughed some more, glancing out the window. The van was still following. The Jeep picked up speed.
"Man, those were some sweet moves you pulled on them!" the teenager next to him declared with admiration. He handed Jack a water bottle.
"Still a good thing we spotted you." Jack pegged the driver's accent as Asian. Yet the two teenagers sounded American. The driver suddenly ordered, "Everybody, hold on!"
Jack grabbed Ian and the seat as the jeep made a series of sharp turns through a business district. He had to hand it to the driver. The young man was obviously both skilled and knowledgeable of the area. When he finally merged onto a highway, the white van was no-where in sight.
The girl breathed a sigh of relief. "I think we lost them, Willy."
"That was fun, Unca Willy!" Ian declared with a deep chuckle. "Can we do again?"
Jack could only shake his head. A swig from the water bottle only seemed to aggravate his raw throat.
The girl was studying him. "You don't look too good."
"Yeah," the boy next to him agreed. "Maybe we should take him to the hospital."
"I'll be--" Jack attempted before another coughing fit hit him.
"DJ needs howler," Ian stated seriously.
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "We're not far from Community General. LaShawna, call Grandma Colton and let her know where we're going. She can call MacGyver and Sam."
As the girl pulled out a cell phone, the teen next to him clicked a seatbelt around Ian. Then he smiled. "I'm Levon Smith Colton. LaShawna is my twin sister up front, and Willy's our cousin. I'm guessing you're DJ."
Jack nodded as he took
a cautious breath. "Smith Colton?" he rasped.
Levon nodded. "When our mom married Frank, he adopted us, but said we should honor our Daddy by keeping his name. So LaShawna and I came up with Smith Colton."
Jack had no idea who Frank was, but decided he could figure that out later. "How'd you find us?"
"Willy was driving us home from school, and I spotted Ian running down the block. When we saw you kicking that one guy, we knew you were in trouble."
The Jeep smoothly pulled into a parking space near a building with a sign declaring 'Community General Hospital'. Willy shut off the car, and turned to the back seat. "Let's get you checked out."
* * *
MacGyver's Firehouse
The telephone ring cut off as the answering machine clicked on with a loud 'Beep'.
"Mac? Sam? Cory? Ian? Well, guess none of you are home yet. Anyway, this is Blair. A case we're on is about to crack, so I'm not going to make the flight tomorrow morning. I'll try to arrange something for next week... I'll call back when I've got the details. But I'm really looking forward to seeing everybody. See you in a few days."
~Beep.~
* * *
Community General
As MacGyver and Sam entered the waiting room, Ian jumped up from his chair. Racing away from the Smith Colton twins, he grabbed his father's legs. "Daddy!"
"Hey, Buddy." Sam picked him up and gave him a tight hug. Mac understood his son's feeling of relief. "What's going on?"
"Unca Willy drove the car fast!" Ian declared as he leaned back, legs tight around his dad's waist. "It was fun!"
Sam shifted his gaze to LaShawna and Levon. Levon explained, "Some men in a white van tried to grab Ian and DJ. We picked them up, and Willy lost the van down near the business district."
Ian nodded excitedly. "DJ told me to run, and I did. Willy, Levon and LaShawna picked us up."
"Was DJ hurt?" Mac asked worried.