Little Boy Lost

Author:  Orrymain
Category:  Pre-Slash, Angst, Drama
Pairing:  Jack/Daniel ... and it's all J/D
Rating:  PG-13
Season:  Before the Series  - Summer 1973
Spoilers:  None
Size:  11kb, ficlet
Written:  August 3, 2017
Summary:  In the blink of an eye, a little boy's life changes forever.
Disclaimer:  Usual disclaimers -- not mine, wish they were, especially Daniel, and Jack, too, but they aren't.  A gal can dream though!
Notes:  
1) Silent, unspoken thoughts by various characters are indicated with ~ in front and behind them, such as ~Where am I?~

Little Boy Lost
by Orrymain

Joy.

Happiness.

Peace.

Fun.

Safe.

Protected.

Learning.

Playful.

Innocent.

Alone.

Darkness.

Lost.

One moment life was normal.  The little boy was playing, but not rambunctiously, cautiously.  He loved the place where he was.  It was full of wonder and history and art and treasures from all over the world.  There was so much to know and so many questions to ask, and he was not afraid to ask anything that popped into his young eight-year-old mind.

“Danny, don't come so close,” his mother warned.

“Son, wait over there like we talked about,” his father instructed.

“I want to help.”

“You can help us set up when the cover stone is in place,” his father responded.

“I can ...”

“Danny, please,” his mother begged.  “We need to get this done.  Go on.”

How the boy loved his parents.  His mother was love and his father was strength.  Both were educators, mentors, and nourishers.  There was trust and understanding, and always, there was warmth and caring.  His world was perfect.

Change.

Ending.

Fear.

In a split second, the boy's world changed.  In front of his innocent eyes, the cover stone fell, hitting one wall of the display and collapsing onto his mother and father.  He let out a wail, louder than any noise he'd ever made before.  He ran to the bodies that once held him, bathed him, soothed him, fed him, tickled him, groomed him, played with him, shared secrets with him.

Blood.

Flesh.

Stillness.

The boy kneeled down and cried out, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”  Only silence answered his cry.  He crawled to his father.  “Daddy!  Daddy, wake up.  Please wake up.”  More silence.  He didn't understand.  Their bodies were crushed, their heads smashed.  ~Where are my mommy and daddy?  They aren't here anymore.~

People.

Shouts.

Shoves.

Panic.

Glasses.

They were her glasses, pushed aside, shoved out of the way by strange men who pushed the boy aside, too.  The boy picked up the glasses, held them, caressed them, and longed to see his mother's eyes looking at him through them.

“Get out of the way, little boy.”

“Move, kid.”

The little boy stood and slowly walked over to where his parents had told him to wait for them.  He shouldn't have moved from the spot earlier.  He shouldn't have asked them questions.  He shouldn't have interfered with their tasks.  They were busy.  They had a schedule to keep.  He slowed them down.  He took away their focus.

Fault.

Guilt.

Pain.

Numb.

Noise.

Struggles.

Groans.

No tears.  No cries.  No sobs.  Nothing.  The boy withdrew into himself as he watched people he didn't know work to pull his parents away from the killer stone.   He saw men doing funny things to his parents, who never moved, not even after being freed from the realm of the stone.  He observed workers standing, watching, peering at the human remains who were once his parents.  He was barely breathing himself.

Invisible.

Scared.

Homeless.

It was quiet again.  Employees left the area.  The medical intrusion was gone.  He'd watched them put his mommy and daddy on funny tables that sprung up and down.  He saw a blanket put over what was left of his mother and he watched as another was placed over his father.  His eyes followed as the strange tables were rolled away.  It was quiet except for someone who cordoned off the immediate area where the fallen stone was.

Investigators.

Sadness.

Empty.

Hours passed and the boy sat alone in his thoughts and memories, only he had no thoughts and his memories were quelled by his loss.  He didn't move.  He sat in his spot, his knees brought up to his chest, his hands overlapping his knees, and his head forward, hanging down on the back of his hands.  He was lost in himself with no one to save him.

Hand.

Word.

Inconsequential.

A woman was speaking to the boy, who looked at her and saw nothing.  She was saying words, but he had none to reply with.  His hand was taken, but it was pulled by a strange hand.  It wasn't the gentle hand of his mommy, the woman who cuddled with him and taught him how to make great peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  It wasn't the calm hand of his daddy, who tossed him up into the air and made him laugh and taught him how to tie his shoelaces.  The hand was cold.

Walking.

The boy felt his feet moving.  He looked back over his shoulder and saw the blood and pieces of clothing left by the big stone that murdered his parents and sentenced him to unhappiness.

Sorrow.

Blame.

~I'm sorry, Mommy.  I'm sorry, Daddy.  I didn't mean to be a bad boy and distract you.  I won't be bad anymore.  Please come back.  Please find me.  I want to go home to Egypt and ride a camel.  Please?  Please!  Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.~

Night.

Dorm.

Yapping.

Cold.

In a strange place, the boy sat where he was placed, on a bed in a room of beds with other boys, some loud, some quiet, some sad, some laughing, some scheming, some domineering, some ... just there.  He heard the order, a voice calling for lights out.

No hugs.

No kisses.

Little boy lost.

Sleep came unwillingly to the boy without a home, without a family, without love. What would happen to him now?

A calming hand ran through the boy's shaggy hair and along his chest.  A spirit kissed his sweet face and held his hands.

“Sleep, Danny.  It won't be easy now, My Little Pharaoh.  We can't keep you safe and fill your life with stories of our ancestors anymore.  You'll have to find the discoveries on your own.  Danny, we're so sorry.  We've let you down.  We didn't want to go away; but, someday, it will get better.  We don't know how, but we know it will.  Your daddy says happiness always comes after sadness.  Be strong, my angel.  Find a way to make your way through whatever darkness comes your way.  We'll always be here, Danny.  I have to go now.  Oh, my sweet baby, forgive us for leaving you alone like this.  We love you.  We love you.  We ... love you.”

A dream.

A beautiful dream.

A beautiful dream with one last moment.

A beautiful dream with one last moment with his mommy and daddy.

In the quietness of the aftermath of his parents death, the boy's mind recovered from the nightmare and survived the horror that his childhood became.  He buried the bad even as he endured it, but he retained the love for those that bore him.  His mother was in him - her caring, her sacrifices, her patience, her devotion, her passion, her curiosity, and her longing for justice.  His father was in him - his kindness, his dedication, his questioning of everything, his playfulness, his studiousness, his seriousness, and his compassion for all living creations.  The little boy was the product of their union and he was the very best of both of them.

Little boy lost, for now, but not forever.

~~Finis - Finished - Done - The End - But is it ever Really?~~

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