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Danny Taylor and Marton Fitzgerald

  a vid by AnnieVanHelsing on Youtube

Danny Taylor

  a video by smitta24 on Youtube

Daniel Jackson bringing sexy back

  a video by me!

Ryan Wolfe

Daniel Jackson and Stargate


this isnt my video, its  csimiami69 on Youtube, but i thought as its so good i would share it


Category:  Angst, H/C
Rating:  FRM
Season:  any!
Spoilers:  none!
Size:  25kb
Written:  01-29-08
Summary: Spencer feels alone and depressed, can he be saved?
A/N: ****warning**** may trig SH. Song by Brand New - Jesus Christ
Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face
The kind you'd find on someone that could save
If they don't put me away
Well, it'll be a miracle

Spencer shivered. They would lock him up for sure this time. ‘I am not my mum’ he muttered to himself, ‘I am not my mum’

He was scared. After the Hankel incident he had dabbled in drugs, and now he was feeling really messed up. He shouted at the normally useful voices to be quiet.

Despite being agnostic, Spencer couldn’t help but blame God for his current situation. Slowly he thought back to when his mum had taught him the Bible. Eloi eloi lama sabachthani? My God, my God why have you forsaken me?

Do you believe you're missing out
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
But with nobody in your bed
The night's hard to get through

He sat on his bed, quietly contemplating his options. People said suicide was selfish, but really he was a hassle on the team, he would be doing them a favour, right? Morgan didn’t like him, he always teased him. Garcia hardly knew him, so why would she care? J.J tended to think of J.J. He stopped. He didn’t want to keep thinking of the team. It was obvious they wouldn’t care.

And I will die all alone
And when I arrive I won't know anyone

He was afraid of death and yet he embraced it. He thought of his mum. She wouldn’t notice either; she could hardly remember him half the time. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly released it.

Well, Jesus Christ, I'm alone again
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
Cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend.

It was a case of now or never. He thought he could hear the phone ringing, but he wasn’t sure, all other noises seemed to have been dimmed. He got up and walked to the bathroom. It was his choice. Standing in front of the mirror a razor blade in hand he thought of God and what happened when you die.

Well, Jesus Christ, I'm not scared of dying,
I'm a little bit scared of what comes after
Do I get the gold chariot?
Do I float through the ceiling?

It would be just like going to sleep. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again. he didn’t care where he ended up, just as long as it wasn’t here and he wasn’t him anymore.

Do I divide and fall apart?
Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark
And the ship went down in sight of land
And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands

He slowly sliced and watched entranced as the blood ran down his arm and slowly filled the sink. The blood seemed to fall like petals, staining the harsh white of the sink a watery pink. He felt his breathing slow, and wondered about what to do now. The realisation of what he had done becoming stingingly obvious. His fear caught his cries in his throat. He was too weak to cry out, the ever ringing phone being the only sound that penetrated the silence.

I know you're coming in the night like a thief
But I've had some time, O Lord, to hone my lying technique
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust
But I'm scared I'll get scared and I swear I'll try to nail you back up

Edging across the floor, over to the phone. leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He knocked it off the receiver. ‘Reid?’ came a familiar voice.’ Hotch!’ he managed to cry before the loss of blood overwhelmed him.

So do you think that we could work out a sign
So I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try

He was floating, he was truly free. Somewhere he could hear a loud banging. Suddenly reality smashed its way back into his consciousness as he was shaken into awareness.

It was Morgan. ‘Reid, Man! Come on, don’t do this to me’

I know you're coming for the people like me
But we all got wood and nails
And turned out a hate factory

He could see the flash of lights and the blare of the sirens as he was rushed to hospital. The paramedics franticly trying to stop the flow of blood.

We all got wood and nails
And turned out a hate factory

Two days later:

Hotch stood and watched the nurse attend Reid. He should have seen this coming. He turned quickly wiping away a tear. He hated himself for missing all the signs. Looking up at the ceiling he quietly exclaimed ‘why God?’ 

We all got wood and nails
And we sleep inside of this machine


Category:  Angst, Drabble
Rating:  FRT
Season:  any!
Spoilers:  none!
Size:  11kb
Written:  03-26-08
Summary:  Spencer feels depressed and alone.
A/N: ****warning**** may trig SH
Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

He hated feeling like this, disjointed, unconnected and distant from others. He was a member of the BAU, but he felt like an observer of the team, not a member. He had only ever wanted to belong, to feel the warmth of love that he had seen in others, in real life, on TV or in the numerous books he had read.

But as he wiped away a sly tear, he knew that this warmth was an illusion. He had sought it out and in return ‘love’ had left him hollow. Sitting looking at his old pen knife in his hand he felt slowly comforted. The metal blade had become his one true friend; he had poured his heart out to it.

And yet this ‘friend’ that disguised his inner turmoil with harsh glaring red marks filled him with repulsion. He hate what he did, and although he felt in control, deep down he knew he had never had control to begin with. He wanted to ask for help, to talk, to open up; but each time he tried to, and the thoughts of such an act crossed his mind, he felt ashamed. It was the shame that stopped him asking for help every time. What would others think?

‘That freak can’t cope’, ‘just like his mum’

He hated the shame, he couldn’t comprehend it. Why did he feel it? What he was doing wasn’t wrong, just misunderstood he told himself, hoping to make himself truly believe it, but as always the relief he felt from his acts and from his words was always short lived.

Run and Hide

Category:  Angst, H/C
Rating:  FRM
Season:  any!
Spoilers:  none!
Size:  12kb
Written:  03-26-08
Summary: a case hits Danny hard, and has startling consequences
A/N: ****warning**** may trig SH
Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

He watched, fascinated as the blood pool around his wrist slowly formed. He had seen so much blood, so much horror that it had numbed him; yet this was different, this was his blood. Everything had happened so quickly, one snide comment from a perp had flicked the switch in his head, which he had tried so hard to ignore. That one comment had led to another and another, only now it was his mind that was coaxing him, and he couldn’t escape it.

He had tried to ignore the building pressure within him as he fought the voice in his head. He had gone home early, reassuring his friends that he was fine and he had firmly locked the door to his apartment, blocking out reality; leaving him alone with his mind. That had been a mistake.

Hours later he was unable to sleep, he kept fidgeting as he watched TV. The images meant nothing, just passing blurs of the world that had overwhelmed him. He thought he had control of his depression but tonight he gave into the voice that had haunted him for years.

He thought he would have felt something, but al he felt was the finality of what he had done. Checking the letter he had written was still on the kitchen table, he had taken a knife and cut into his left wrist watching as his flesh ripped and blood oozed out.

Now that he had started this process, he felt uncertain. Did he really want this, or was it the voice?

His confusion won through. Despite the ever growing pool of blood, he managed to find the strength to stagger off the sofa and over to his mobile which he had left on a pile of magazines in the far corner. He could feel his breath catch in his throat as it became even harder to breathe and his vision began to blur as he glanced back at the trail of blood he had left. There was just so much. Fumbling with the phone that felt slippy in his grip he pressed one, and speed dialled Mac.

He felt the frustration grow as it rang. When Mac eventually picked up Danny released what felt like a mountain of words;

‘Mac, I’m sorry, I just... I...’ stuttered Danny through ragged breaths, ‘help me, I shouldn’t have... I went home and it just...’

He fought to remain conscious, but the darkness that was clouding his vision consumed him, and he slid to the floor dropping the mobile.

Mac heard the phone smash; worried he grabbed his coat and quickly left the lab ignoring the stares of those who watched as he raced out punching 911 into his phone.

As he arrived at the apartment block he was blinded by the blue lights of the ambulance. Running over he could see Danny being lifted into the awaiting ambulance on a stretcher. Flashing his badge he pushed through the crowd that had gathered, feeling sickened by their voyeurism. He reached the ambulance just as the paramedic was about to close the back door, flashing his badge yet again he demanded that he was allowed to join Danny in the back of the ambulance.

He gazed at Danny’s face. It was scrunched up as he tossed and turned on the gurney fighting an invisible enemy, knocking his oxygen mask aside.

Mac grabbed Danny’s hand, offering words of reassurance, while inside his heart sank as he blamed himself. The blood on Danny stained Mac’s hands as he ached even more when the thoughts of Danny’s blood on his hands became a reality.

The paramedic had done her best to bandage Danny’s left wrist, but she had needed to sedate him in order to complete her job.

Mac hoped that now that Danny had stopped fighting his invisible aggressor that he hadn’t lost his fight to live.

Dinner Plate Glasses

Category:  Angst
Rating:  FRT
Season:  pre-SGC (young Danny)
Spoilers:  none!
Size:  29kb
Written:  11-01-07
Summary:  the angst of being a young Daniel Jackson 
A/N: i wrote it for a laugh as one of my friends always calls Daniel 'dinner plate glasses' to wind me up as i love him!! so this is for her, you know who you are!
Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Daniel hid. He had been running, the school bullies were after him again. He was wheezing. He hadn’t taken his antihistamines this morning and the pollen count was high. Damn this just isn’t my day, he thought to himself. He knew he had to sneeze, but he fought it, if he did they would find him. Too late he sneezed.

Before he knew it, they had found him. He could fell them tug at his shirt as he was pulled from his hiding place, his glasses slipping down his nose, he quickly pushed them up the bridge of his nose, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself if he couldn’t see, the again, he couldn’t defend himself anyway he thought to himself.

He was pushed to the ground; he could hear all sorts of insults rain down on him in between the blows. He curled up into a ball, hoping to protect himself. ‘Look it’s no parents Jackson’ one of the boys yelled. He could feel his glasses being yanked from his face, ‘no’ Daniel yelled reaching out to retrieve them but it was useless, he couldn’t see what he was searching for. ‘Ha’ yelled a boy Daniel couldn’t see, ‘look at his glasses! Dinner Plate Glasses!’

He could see a faint blurry of what he assumed were his glasses fall to the ground and be crushed under someone’s shoe. Although he couldn’t see his glasses he knew that sound only too well.

Again he curled into a protective ball shape hoping the bullies would get bored. He had brought this on himself this time though. He knew that. He was only occasionally a target. But he always got in their way when they were after others, he just couldn’t stand by and do nothing, and now he was paying the price. It had happened before, and he still hadn’t learned. His foster mother said he was stubborn, maybe that was it. To stubborn to learn not to help. It just didn’t feel right not helping. His parents would have wanted him to help. Although they probably hadn’t envisioned this.

He could hear voices yelling at his attackers. Everything was a blur and as arms gently lifted him off the ground he let go of his consciousness. He gave up, thoughts of his parents letting him drift off, into the nightmares that plagued him of their death.

When he woke up he was in hospital. Again. How many times was it this year? He had lost count and no matter how hard he tried he ended up here, no one seemed to believe him when he told them he was fine. He lay back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling and the glaring harsh lights. Dreams of a happier future letting him drift off into a dreamless sleep.



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A neutron walks into a bar and orders a drink. But when he asks how much it costs, the bartender says, ‘Hey, for you, no charge'


Two atoms are walking down the street when one stops and says, Oh no, I’ve lost an electron.’ The other stops and says, ‘Are you sure?’ And the first atom replies—”

“‘I’m positive!’


If you don’t make light of a dark situation, you’ll lose the reason you keep going


What is this thing that having it, you can no longer give it away, but by lacking it, for the moment at least, you can give it to those who’ve wronged you? – Death –


"Time can heal all wounds, but the reminder of a scar will stay." (New Found Glory, "Tell Tale Heart")


"Man, it takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has, but Lord it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all."– Dashboard Confessional, Carve Your Heart Out Yourself


Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live: - Norman Cousins


Without suffering, there would be no compassion. Tell that to the ones who suffer - A Walk to Remember -


Did you ever think that maybe the crazy people are the ones who see the world like it really is and it’s the rest of us who are delusional?

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