Beta: Renee
Genre: Slash, 9/11 Aftermath
Pairings: Daniel/Paul Established Relationship
Rating: PG - maybe some language.
Spoilers/Season: Anything before Meridian since that episode never existed in my world.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I've written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original story is mine, with nods of thanks to Tamy for the inspiration. Not to be archived without permission of the author. 

Notes: Tamy tossed out a fic challenge to write a story about how our favorite pair dealt with the events of 9/11 and this story immediately came to me. While I know how difficult it is to think about that horrible day, while I wrote this, I was constantly thinking back to what I remember about the day. I'm not in the military, I've never been in the Pentagon, and I have no idea what happened at Cheyenne Mountain that day. This is just my interpretation of how Daniel reacted to the situation and the worry that may have seized him after the Pentagon attack. I hope I don't offend anyone with this story but if I do please accept my sincerest apologies. As always special thanks to my wonderful beta and best friend, Renee. You make writing fun and worth every minute of effort.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. What's happened? They said it was an accident; then the second tower was hit. It seems like it wasn't five minutes until we were hearing that the Pentagon was hit as well. The Pentagon of all places! Daniel raked a hand through his short hair as he nervously stared up at the television screen. The room was filled with silence and Sam was clenching his hand so tightly he thought the bones just might break. "Who's responsible for this?" Someone whispered.

"We don't know yet," Jack said flatly. Daniel could hear the anger in his voice and it echoed the emotion rising in his own chest. Daniel watched as Jack stepped further into the recreation room and raised his hands to get everyone's attention. "OK, People listen up! We are on lock down.  I repeat, the Mountain is locked down. No one gets in or out until we have word from Washington. Watch the news, go back to work, and be prepared for anything. We are on alert. Someone has attacked the United States and as soon as we have a target we will be retaliating."

"Any word from the Pentagon on casualties?" Sam asked in her most professional voice. Someone would have to know her very well to pick up the tremor in her voice. Daniel heard it and squeezed her hand reassuringly though his insides twisted with fear when Jack shook his head.

"Not yet, but the plane did not hit near the Air Force corridors. We are still waiting for more information but at this point our people at the Pentagon are a little bit busy." 

It was obvious to Daniel that Jack was trying to come across as supportive and reassuring but for once, it wasn't working. He simply sounded like he was pissed off, and Daniel couldn't blame him. However, Daniel wanted - no, needed information now. He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood in order to keep from asking, "What about Paul?"

The question echoed in Daniel's head as he moved back towards his office. He couldn't stare at the plumes of smoke, or watch in horror as the twin towers collapsed inward and fell. The image was branded into his mind and he wasn't sure he would ever be rid of it. How could something like this happen? HE was the one that was supposed to be in danger, not Paul. The Pentagon was one of the most secure buildings in the entire world. Paul worked in the Joint Chiefs' office, the most protected sector of the entire complex. He had to be all right, but until Daniel heard from him, Paul's fate was a mystery.

"This isn't happening, this is nuts, this isn't happening," he repeated to himself as he sat down at his computer checking his email in hopes that Paul was able to get word to him. How had such an atrocity take place on American soil? After living in the Middle East for a large portion of his life, Daniel knew about terrorist actions and their aftermath. In the U.S. terrorists were almost unheard of, certainly nothing to the extent of the damage caused by the four planes that were deliberately crashed that morning.

"How're you holding up?" 

"What?" Daniel looked up from the now blank computer screen as if he were in a daze. He barely even registered Janet Frasier's movements as she walked into the office and moved to his side. 

"How are you holding up?" She asked again. Other than Sam, Janet was the only person who knew about his relationship with Paul; it wasn't surprising that she'd sought him out.

Daniel shook his head, "This is all a bad dream right?"

A sad smile crossed Janet's face and she shook her head, "I wish it were. God I wish it were. No word yet huh?"

"Nothing. God, Janet, this isn't the way it's supposed to be! What good are we doing out there," he gestured wildly in the direction of the Gate Room before continuing, "if the people back here are just going to try and destroy us anyway?! Do you know how many people could have been in the World Trade Center or the Pentagon? Do you know how many people were on those planes? And we don't even know who did this!"

Daniel jumped up from his chair and began pacing the length of his office. His hands flailed as he ranted about the state of the world and the murderers that hijacked the planes essentially unaware of Janet's continued presence. Finally he turned towards Janet and said in a voice that was almost desolate with worry, "What about Paul? What happens now?"

Her first instinct was to hug Daniel the way Janet had hugged Sam when she asked similar questions, but the doctor could see that Daniel wouldn't welcome any sort of physical contact. "I don't know, Daniel," she said reluctantly. "I wish I could tell you what we do now, but I just don't know. Paul is a resourceful man. He'll get word to you as soon as possible, but the chances of him being in the part of the building that was hit are minimal."

"But there is a chance, and it's that chance that's driving me nuts right now," Daniel told her as he wrapped his arms around his chest. 

Janet reached out to him then and squeezed his forearm. "I can't stay, but Sam could use some company. Remember, she has friends at the Pentagon as well."

For a moment, Daniel closed his eyes then nodded. "I'll go see her."

Janet patted his shoulder and received a slight smile in return. "Good. I think it might help you both if you weren't alone."

Daniel wasn't sure he agreed but he acknowledged her suggestion and quickly punched the forwarding code into his telephone before he headed down to Sam's lab. When he arrived he found her staring at a small dorm sized TV. "Sam?"

"Daniel," she wiped the tears off her face and turned towards him quickly, "Any word?"

He shook his head, "None. Any new information?"

Sam glanced towards the television and sighed, "No one's claiming responsibility. According to NBC, several groups have stepped forward to say they had absolutely nothing to do with it. They're estimating more than three thousand deaths at the World Trade Center."

"And in Washington?" Daniel asked in a soft but gruff voice.

For a moment Sam didn't say a word then she said, "Possibly as many as 800, but they think that's too high."

"Eight hundred? Oh God..." Daniel felt his knees buckle and he braced his hands against Sam's worktable. "We've got to find out something soon right? Won't the survivors let people know they're all right?" 

"How?" Sam asked with a sniffle. "Cell phones aren't picking up signals, phones in the area aren't working properly, and there are people trapped in the E ring still. I don't think we're on the top of their priority list at the moment."

"Sort of like Jack said huh?" Daniel asked reluctantly. He knew if Paul was all right he would have more important things to worry about but Daniel was dying to hear from him. "How are you doing?" Daniel asked suddenly. He was aware that he had focused on his own worry but now that he knew he would just have to wait, he turned his attention to Sam. 

"Me? I'm in the same boat you are. Waiting. Worrying. Hoping my friends are safe," she told him in a voice that was little more than a whisper. Sam left several friends behind in Washington when she was assigned to the SGC. Now she was wondering just what had happened to them and praying they were among the survivors instead of the casualties.

"Let's go you two," a clipped voice semi-ordered from the doorway. When they turned around Jack said, "Dr. Frasier's organized a blood drive. New York and Washington are gonna need all the blood we can send them." 

Without a second thought, both Sam and Daniel followed Jack down the hall. While they still didn't know what was going on at least they were doing something to help. When they reached the Infirmary, it was obvious that word had spread and everyone on base wanted to do their part. 

Slipping into the growing line, Daniel's thoughts returned to Paul and the conversation they'd had the night before. Nothing special was said, no eternal vows of love and devotion, simply lovers indulging in light hearted banter, something to take Paul's mind off the series of meetings and political wrangling he was engaged in on a daily basis. As far as Daniel was concerned, Paul was far too serious. The young Major only cut loose when he was with Daniel. When Daniel hung up the phone the night before Paul had been laughing. Paul's laugh was a rare thing, and suddenly the sound of it was one of Daniel's most cherished memories. When all this was over, when Daniel was sure Paul was safe, when all the retaliation against the unknown terrorists was finished, Daniel vowed that he would make sure Paul laughed more often. He knew there would be little to laugh about until the victims were avenged and the U.S. was safe once more, but Daniel also knew that he needed to enjoy every moment he could with his lover. He'd started taking Sha're's presence in his life for granted before she was taken, and he now refused to do the same thing with Paul - especially since he had far too large a reminder that life was so incredibly precious.

It was late in the afternoon by the time Daniel returned to his office. He checked his voice mail both at work and at home but Paul hadn't called. He tried to believe that no news was good news, but the knot of fear in his gut refused to leave him. The longer he went without hearing from Paul, the more worried he became. Would he even be notified if Paul was injured or killed? Would he have to wait until a casualty list was compiled to learn what had happened or would someone take pity on him and tell him what was going on? Knowing that he was accomplishing nothing but working himself into a panic, Daniel tried to focus on a translation that was waiting for his approval. After fifteen minutes of reading the same phrase repeatedly without grasping what it said he threw the translation down in disgust and said quietly, "Jesus, Paul, what's happening? Where are you?"

As if in answer to his question the telephone rang loudly. Daniel jumped in surprise but grabbed the receiver franticly, "Hello?" 

A tired sigh echoed over the line and Daniel heard the three words he'd been praying he would hear all day long, "Daniel, I'm OK."

-End