20,000 Questions

By BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Season: 7

Episode: Revisions

Spoilers: Revisions

Category: drama, missing scenes

Pairing: None

Summary: Jack meets Nevin

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, SciFi Channel, Showtime/Viacom ; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent

Author's Note: Jack's reaction to Nevin was unusual... perhaps this is why.....

==============================

"What's that called?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill, in the midst of removing his equipment vest, looked down at the boy who was questioning him. "An equipment vest."

"Why do you wear that?"

"So I can carry things I need when I travel."

"Like what?"

Jack reined in his impatience. "Important things," he said smugly, beginning to strip off the bulky orange protective suit.

The boy was staring at the strangers in undisguised wonder. "That's a color I've need seen before. What's it called?"

"Orange."

"Or-ange." Nevin pronounced the word carefully.

"Like oranges," Jack explained.

"What are oranges?"

"Fruit. Round. This color," he pointed at the suit.

The boy shook his head.

"Oranges," the man continued. "Squeeze `em for juice_"

Still no sign of recognition from Nevin.

"Maybe they don't have such things here, Sir," Carter suggested. "And the suits are actually, well, more the color of a tangerine, Sir." She added, noting too late O'Neill's hand motion waving at her to desist.

The boy looked from Jack to Carter, forgetting the strange color and the unknown fruit in sudden interest of an entirely different, but equally intriguing, topic with his newly met friends.

"Did she just call you `Sir'?"

Jack nodded.

"You said your name was Jack," the child said with sudden suspicion, and a tinge of accusation. Was this adult trying to fool him somehow?

"It is. `Sir' isn't my name, it's my_" Jack searched for the appropriate word, "ah, title."

"It's a reference of respect," Daniel offered.

Nevin peered at the younger man. "But you don't call him `Sir'."

Jack sighed. Count on a kid to make things difficult. "He doesn't have to call me `Sir'.

The boy looked from one man to the other. "He doesn't respect you?"

Jack threw a sidelong glance at Daniel, who was carefully avoiding saying anything. "He's a civilian."

The boy looked confused.

"Civilian means someone who is not in the military," Daniel supplied the definition.

"What's the 'military'? Is that a town?"

"No. It's people whose job is to be soldiers, warriors, protectors, like police officers," Daniel explained.

"We don't have any of those," Nevin still looked perplexed as he turned back to Jack. "So who do you protect people from?"

"Other people. Bad people. Nasty aliens."

The child paused, seemed to be thinking hard, digesting the information. Looking now at Teal'c, he asked, "And him? He's 'military' or 'civilian'?"

"Military, sort of," Jack said with a grimace, knowing that answer was only going to provoke even more questions.

"Does he call you 'Sir'?"

"No, he calls me `O'Neill'." Jack knew he'd just made another mistake. The kid was *never* going to stop asking questions.

"What does that mean, 'O'Neill'? Another word of respect?"

"Yes. Very respectful," Jack smirked.

"Actually, it means that he's Irish," Jackson noted.

"What's Irish?"

Jack wiped a hand across his face in exasperation, throwing Daniel a pleading look.

The SG-1 linguist took up the challenge. "Irish means that his people came from a place called Ireland."

The boy was back to suspicious. "I thought you said you were from Earth."

"Earth is our planet. Ireland is a place on that planet," Daniel clarified.

"So you're all Irish?" the boy looked from one to the other of the visitors, who by now were all out of their odd 'orange' suits and wearing clothes the color of the leaves on the iefentha trees.

"No, Jack is Irish. My family is Dutch and English, and Sam's is English. But we're all from a place called America. Except for Teal'c, he's from Chulak."

"That's a place on Earth, like Ireland?" Nevin pronounced the new words proudly.

"Ah, no," Jack grinned. "It's another planet."

"So he's an alien?" the boy looked at the big man with wonder, thinking he did not look so different. "How come you're not protecting them from him?" he asked the gray haired man, pointing at the dark skinned alien.

"He's a good alien."

"Why?"

"Because I said he is." Jack's smile had disappeared. "Isn't there a limit to how many questions you're allowed to ask visitors?"

Nevin shook his head, "No. We've never had visitors before."

"Never?" Jack asked with more interest.

"Never," the boy answered with certainty.

"Maybe your father, or the leaders of your city have met_" Carter started.

The boy shook his head once more, adamantly. "No."

"But_" Carter started.

O'Neill waved a hand at her. "We'll just ask when we get to the city." Turning back to the boy, "how *do* we get to the city?"

"I can show you. If I can wear that," he pointed at the strange orange suit.

"Ah, no, I'll need that when we leave."

"But you just got here."

"I don't know how long we'll stay."

"I want to try it on."

O'Neill looked to Carter for support. She shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt, Sir."

The boy was smiling now as he sat down on the ground and began pulling the suit over his legs. Noticing the strange symbols on the sleeve of the alien garment, he pointed to the patch and asked, "What's this?"

"That's my name."

The boy nodded. "Jack Sir O'Neill."

"Ah, just O'Neill."

"Jack Sir ah just O'Neill."

Jack gritted his teeth in frustraion, and realized he was developing one extra large headache. "My full name is Colonel Jack O'Neill." Pointing to the sleeve patch, "that's just my last name, O'Neill."

"But they know your name. Why do you have it on your clothes?"

"Because when I'm wearing that," Jack pointed to the hood "they can't see who I am. Each of us has our names on our suits. So we know."

The boy nodded.

Jack appreciated the momentary silence, which didn't last long enough.

The boy was quickly in the suit, and staring at Jack once again.

"Now what?" the gray haired man asked.

"That thing, on your head."

"It's my cap."

"What's it for?"

"Keeps the sun out of my eyes."

"Let me wear it and I'll show you the shortest way to town."

"You made a bargain, Nevin. You said you'd show us the way to town if I let you wear *that*," Jack pointed at the suit.

"I didn't say I'd show you the shortest way."

O'Neill sighed. "Are you sure your name isn't Nevin Jackson?"

"No. I've only got one name. Nevin."

The boy turned and marched toward town.

*******************

Ohhh, this was sooo a mistake. Bad enough he had to talk to the town council, and try to sort out who was what on this planet, but then he'd let himself get talked into staying overnight. At Nevin's house no less.

The kid was fascinated with him.

Couldn't stop asking questions.

Wouldn't stop asking questions.

Constantly.

Incessantly.

Endlessly.

About *everything.*

Oiy.

*************

Nevin had never met anyone quite so interesting as these strangers, most especially the silver haired man who was in charge of them. He was funny, not in a ha-ha way, but in a sneaky way, like he didn't want you to know he was amused. The boy walked along beside the tall man, showing him around the city, while the dark, silent man, Teal'c, followed behind them.

And though it was hard to get him to talk about them, Jack knew about other places, places Nevin had only dreamed about. Places he wanted to go. Sure, the link showed him pictures of what outside had been. But O'Neill had *been* outside.

He'd been to other places.

He'd been to other planets.

Lots of them.

O'Neill knew everything.

And unlike the other grown-ups, O'Neill wasn't too busy to talk to a kid.

Other grown-ups were always too busy.

No fun at all.

He knew all of the adults in the city, and he knew everything that they knew, thanks to the link. But these people weren't on the link. They were different. They knew things none of his people knew about the outside.

They were adventurers, O'Neill first among them.

"Why did you come here?"

"To meet your people."

"How did you know we were here?"

"We opened the Stargate and sent through a machine that sends us pictures."

"Of us?"

"No, of your dome. This place, the outside of it. So we figured that there would be people in here."

"What are the people on your planet, Earth, like?"

"Like us. Like you."

"Why?"

Jack threw him a blank look.

The boy persisted. "Why are we alike? We're on different planets."

"Your ancestors probably came from my planet."

"They did? How do you know?"

"Well, I don't know. Daniel probably will *know*. But we have met lots of people on lots of planets who definitely *did* come from Earth," Jack waved a hand through the air.

"So why are you looking for people?"

"You can never have too many friends," Jack answered.

"I'll be your friend."

Jack looked down with an indulgent smile. "Yes, Nevin, you can be."

*************

There weren't many people on this planet that Jack O'Neill gave a rip about, but, as much as the 20,000 questions irritated him, he couldn't resist the kid. He tried to; he tried to ignore the boy, but he couldn't; tried to look away, but he couldn't; tried not to let the little guy worm his way past his defenses, and couldn't; really, really really tried not to care about something that wasn't his decision, wasn't his right, and couldn't.

He couldn't help but feel bad for the kid, knowing the boy had never been anywhere but inside this steadily shrinking, closed-in space.

Nevin had never seen a real river, or a mountain, or the sky, or the sunset, or the stars.

He watched, and hoped, and said little. Deep down inside, in that empty place inside his own heart, Jack O'Neill ached for the things this father would get to do with his son, things he'd never gotten to do with his own.

It had been hard to look on, and do nothing, to wait and watch, when what he wanted to do was grab the man by the throat and shake him, remind him of what a precious thing he had, and how he damned well ought to be doing anything and everything he could for his son.

Wishing always, that someone had done the same to him.

That he'd had the chance to listen.

And answer 20,000 questions.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The end