Good Man by Random

Good Man

By: Random

CATEGORY: Drama, Friendship, Missing Scene

WARNINGS: Language

AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:

http://www.alldanielfic.com/viewuser.php?uid=110

"To Paul Emerson," Cam raised his glass. It was orange juice. The Odyssey didn't have beer. Three other plastic glasses thunked dull against his, and one ceramic coffee mug touched without sound. They all sipped, except Jackson, who pulled his mug back and stared into it with a faint, accusatory frown.

"He was a good man."

Cam nodded, had to agree with Jackson on that one. "Yeah, we're losing too many of those."

Eyes bright with feelings she'd stuffed deep, Sam glanced at him. "We always do."

Looking up at her, Jackson gave a small shake of his head, his frown going tight enough to deepen the habitual lines between his eyebrows and above his glasses. "No, you don't understand. He was a good man--that's a problem. I think we need more bad ones."

"Huh?" The word startled out with a puff of air as Cam's stare swiveled to Jackson for an explanation, and the second he did he knew he shouldn't have.

Looking into those very clear, very blue eyes, he was damn sure he didn't want to hear an answer from a man with that much aggressive edge flashing warning lights.

Jackson's stare flickered back to his coffee again, then up and around the group--looking to see who cared, Cam judged. Or maybe who'd argue with him. With a shrug, as if it didn't much matter, Jackson tucked away some of the ragged showing. And Cam tried to see what the other man had.

Teal'c had lifted an eyebrow and held his head high, like a man who could smell stinky trouble coming and would head it off at the pass. Eyes bright, Vala was wrapping the end of one pigtail around a finger, and she'd sat up a little since she liked trouble. Sam wasn't meeting Jackson's stare.

Jackson's glance went to his coffee again. "Emerson shouldn't have been giving orders that would get people killed. He should have been looking for deals to keep himself and everyone under his command alive."

"Little harsh," Cam muttered, and he wondered just when Jackson would stop shocking the hell out of him.

He'd figured Jackson would be the one to come out of this whipped hard, regrets piled high and losses deep. Hell, he'd seen that before in the guy, like when they'd lost the Prometheus and a world along with it, and damn near SG-1, too. Didn't Jackson make everything just a little too personal?

That didn't seem to be the case here.

Teal'c, detached as a Buddha, seemed to see it the same as Jackson--or he wanted to. He nodded and said, "I concur with Daniel Jackson. As we heard from the recording, Colonel Emerson was honorable but most unwise in his choice of tactics."

"So this is about us giving up the good fight now?" Cam asked, couldn't stop the question, because, damnit, he'd signed on to be one of the white hats.

Mouth twisting, Jackson looked up from his coffee. "How many lies did you tell to pull off acting like a member of the Lucian Alliance? Just the fact that you can masquerade as a--"

"Lying, cheating, thief?" Vala said, her tone and eyes bright as the lights overhead. She offered a wide smile, then her voice dipped low and knowing. "Sounds like you're living in my part of the universe now."

Lounging in her chair, the only one at the table still relaxed, she gave Jackson a wink as he shot her a frown. Then Jackson's expression and his eyebrows lifted into a speculative stare as if he was weighing her comment.

Cam shifted in his chair, unsure where this was headed, but sure as sure that becoming an intergalactic thug had never been one of his ambitions.

Glancing away from Vala, Jackson said, voice still blunt, "Yes, I suppose we are." And what, Cam wondered, the hell had happened to all that amazing empathy he'd heard stories about? Then Jackson added, "Until you put in the reasons behind the lies, the cheats, the thefts."

Cam swirled his OJ. "What? A good enough reason excuses anything?"

"No, a good enough result."

"Oh, that's such bull, Daniel."

All eyes turned to Sam, but she stared at Jackson as if he was the only other person here. "The result! That's such--you're angry because Emerson almost got me killed. And you know it's not--"

"Emerson had no business endangering you the way he did. He had a gun on him. He should have known it would turn to you next, and what did he do? He goes all military stupid." Jackson finished with a hand lifted, and a calm sharpened by more than a little sarcasm.

Sam echoed it back when she asked, "And you wouldn't have put yourself in the way?"

Stare fixed on a drip of coffee that had made it to the table and which he was now dragging around with a fingertip until it disappeared, Jackson frowned. Then he glanced up. He wasn't smiling, but the light glinted off his glasses and the voice went summer soft. "Sam, I'm still alive to argue with you about it."

"I liked Emerson." The others tuned and glanced at Vala. Eyes going wider, she looked back at them, lifted her shoulders in a quick shrug. "Well, I did."

"Yeah--good man," Jackson said again, left it so neutral you could put any spin on it, but Cam was going for pretty much good and stupid.

And just when had their civilian become such a hardass?

Oh, sure, he'd always delivered when they needed him.

Cam could remember Jackson shooting uber-Goa'uld Anubis' second chance at glory, Mr. Frosty-Defreezed himself. But Jackson hadn't liked it, or wanted jokes, or even a pat on the back afterwards. He'd bottled up so tight after, Cam had wondered if he'd go off at some point like a shook-up soda on a hot day. But he hadn't. Now, he and Vala had spaced some guy who'd shot some good folks, like Emerson, with Sam next on the target list, and both of them looked no big deal relaxed over it. So what gave?

Seems like Sam did.

With a shake of her head, she got up, walked out. Cam waited for someone to follow her, but no one did, so he got up and went after her, and maybe that's what made him team leader. He got sweep-up detail.

He didn't have to sweep far, since he found Sam in the hallway right outside the room, her shoulders braced against the wall, head tilted back, hair blonde-pale in the artificial lights, and her stare on the pale ceiling.

As he stopped next to her, she glanced at him, managed a tight smile that left her big blues almost as cool as Jackson's. "God, it's far enough in between that I forget what a ruthless bastard he can be."

"He who? Jackson?"

Her smile warmed with some sympathy--about time he got some from someone. "Sorry. I also forget sometimes that you've only had the official versions of our lives."

Putting his shoulder on the wall next to her, he hooked his thumbs into the edges of his pockets. He knew the start of a good story when he heard one, so he put on an interested face and waited. Sure enough, she let out a sigh, twisted so she was leaning on the wall, didn't quite need it holding her up anymore. Then she pulled in a breath, let it out slow, and he could see the memory drifting into her eyes even as she kept her arms folded.

"The second time we went back to Chulak, we were there to help Teal'c and his family."

He nodded, started rummaging in memory for that mission file--his year of light reading and heavy lifting, as in getting his ass out of a hospital bed so he could learn to walk again. And he thanked his mama's side of the family for good genes and a mind that held more junk than any attic.

"Yeah--Rya'c got his own junior that outing, didn't he?" Then the other penny fell. "And Jackson shot the hell out of a tub of baby Goa'uld. But how's that make him…look, hate to say it, but that sounds like maybe it was just some good housekeeping."

"It's what didn't make the report. Not fifteen minutes later, Daniel pulled out a snack. A snack! And he asked me if I thought the Goa'uld larva we had taken needed to be fed--like it was a pet goldfish."

Okay, that was--well, little chilly there. You'd expect that thick a skin from someone who'd been dealing death twenty-years, and Jackson had been what then--an academic with not even a year doing this?

"Sam, that's only the one--"

"Then there was the time he waved bye-bye to a few thousand Jaffa just before Oma toasted them."

Hearing her tone sharpen, Cam changed tactics. Fast. "Okay, not a one-time. Still, I'm hearin' an anti-snakes theme developing."

Sam nodded. It did sound like that, and for a long time she had assumed it was only the Goa'uld who brought out the worst in Daniel, or at least they brought out this callous part of him. But she'd also seen him after Euronda. He'd fought everyone about their interference in a war where they hadn't known who was right and what was wrong. Then, after a Eurondan had died by slamming into the closed Iris, she'd told Daniel about O'Neill's orders to close it behind them. And Daniel had shrugged off her words.

"Jack warned him--Alar made his choice. Besides, do you really want a man who supported genocide within the NID's reach?"

She'd understood his point. But that implacable tone in Daniel's voice, his seeming approval of O'Neill's action, had stunned her almost as much as what the colonel had done. She didn't see the need to bring up that story now, but there were a few others she also didn't want to remember. Unas armed by Daniel because he thought they deserved freedom, and because one of those Unas had become Daniel's friend. Daniel, arrogant and fighting dirty for a woman who could destroy worlds--putting another world at risk--because he had decided what was right. And Daniel's attitute towards anyone from the Trust who'd eneded up dead had always been more than casual.

"It's not just Goa'uld. He's...Cam--Daniel is a very complex person. He has his weaknesses. His doubts. He just doesn't let them out when it comes to his own definitions of what he'll tolerate. And it drives me crazy when he gets like this."

Cam let the idea settle. Then he shook his head, still wasn't wrapping his brain around that kind of reaction from Daniel Jackson, the book guy, the diplomat, the high moral ground guy of SGC legend.

"You worry about it?" he asked.

She shook her head, and the hard lines around her eyes and mouth eased off a notch. "No. Well, yes, I do. It seems like I see this side of him more than I used to, and--" She broke off, seemed to run out of steam, or maybe had as much trouble as he did with the idea of Daniel Jackson not being such a peaceful explorer, after all.

"One of these days he may not pack it away again--that it?" he asked.

"No. No, I know Daniel would rather not have to shoot people. That is his first choice. And his second, and his last. And I think it's always going to be the one he looks for until he runs out of options."

"But there's also more than a few reasons he and Jack O'Neill hit it off?" Cam offered, filing in the blanks she'd left. He more than knew O'Neill's reputation as a man you did not cross. Ever.

Sam's smile flickered, went to sixty watts instead of the usual two hundred. "Yes, but, honestly, if I had to pick, it might be Daniel's bad side that I'd put down as the one to avoid. General O'Neill's temper tends to be explosive and then its gone. Once you've made Daniel's list--"

"Not only will he give you a shove off any slippery slope you're on, he'll tell you to have a good trip on the way down--and he can wait a very long time for his chance to give you that shove?"

She shook her head. "Something like that. The trouble is, I'm not sure what Daniel thinks about that part of himself. He's too self-aware not to know that it exists, but I don't know how he's able to reconcile it with his basic beliefs."

"So, what, that crack about good men? That for real?" Cam didn't want it to be. He wanted to know he was doing the right thing. Hell, being on the same team, he wanted to think of Jackson doing the same. He didn't like when the natural order of things got shook up like this. And this--well, it was wrong.

Teal'c was the muscle of the outfit. Sam the brains. Jackson was supposed to be the...well, he was brains, too, but was supposed to have a heart about it. Vala--well, he hadn't asked for her on the ride, but she seemed to fill any need for cunning just fine. And he led them.

That was what it was supposed to be. At least in his mind. That was the SG-1 who went in and did it right. They were the good guys doing right.

But here was Jackson going all Jaffa revenge-worthy harsh, screwing with the way it ought to go down, while Sam was doing feelings. What next--Teal'c for brains? And he was so not repeating that to the Jaffa. No, he kinda liked not having his face rearranged.

But Sam gave him some reassurance. She shook her head as if she wasn't buying all Jackson's talk, and he liked that, but then she started talking, too.

"I think a lot of things Daniel says just come out. Sometimes, it's as if he has to hear an idea before he can make up his mind about it. Or he says things because he does hold that beliefs should be challenged, even his own. But a few things...well, he more than means them."

Cam thought about Jackson talking a few months back about regret for not shooting a young girl--okay, so the kid was stomp-your-ass Ori in human form. But Sam hadn't bought it. Only now Cam wasn't so sure. Baby snakes; baby evil alien. Might be about the same to Jackson. Something he'd decided the world was better without, and the man did what he had to when he was looking out for others. Cam got that well enough.

He glanced at Sam, frowned hard. "So you think he's mostly blowing off steam right now?"

"Mostly. Yes. But I also think there's a very small circle of people that Daniel allows himself to care for deeply. The rest of the world exists as something of an abstract construct to him--its value isn't so much personal to him as it is a moral standard. And Daniel can be flexible in how he applies that. He's not a rigid thinker."

Cam pulled back at that one, jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "What? Dudley Do-Right in there?"

"Come on, Cam, you have to have noticed. The only absolute for Daniel is his connection to those he allows close to him. He's angry with Emerson right now. Later--well, later, he'll cool down, he'll regret the loss of a man he knew. It will be a little more personal then. Right now, he thinks of Emerson as someone who put me in danger. That's what he's focused on, and that's what he's not going to forgive--that's what he's angry about. It's not about a philosophical discussion of good and bad, even if he'd like to try and pass it off as that. He hates losing anyone he cares about, and he's only gotten worse at dealing with that. But he really doesn't seem to give a damn about those who've crossed that line with him."

"So the guy they spaced...?" Frowning, Cam glanced over his shoulder again to the three people still seated at the table.

Leaning back in his chair, Teal'c was watching Daniel and Vala. Those two had gotten into a discussion--Cam wasn't going to label it an argument even if it looked like it was about to start walking and talking like one. They had their heads close, had voices low and intense. But Teal'c was smiling wide, indulgent as an uncle who didn't have to live with the brats but who knew how to make them behave if he had to.

Cam looked back at Sam. "No problem with the spacing then?"

Her smile slipped to the indulgent side, too. "My bet--Daniel made some stupid joke. A Jack O'Neill special. But that man's death--no, that's not a loss. Not for Daniel. He has the deepest sympathy for innocents dragged along by fate into a choiceless hell. Less for people who make bad choices--and he includes himself and us in that list. Those are his regrets. And he doesn't show any for people who make bad choices with the worst intentions."

"Y'know--this conversation is not making me feel a whole lot better. I kind of...well, I had this idea...."

Eyebrows lifting, she stared at him, and Cam rubbed the back of his neck, knew he was going to have to rethink this whole team-order idea he'd had. Not so many boxes. Less trying to slot folks in one way. More understanding for just how complex these people were. And, yeah, maybe it sounded a plan to stay on Jackson's not so many bad choices made list.

He was also going to have to keep a better eye on threats toward anyone Jackson cared about, too, just so the man did not start thinking he had to stray too far into Boogeymanland. Besides, no way Jackson and Vala should hog all the fun.

"Ah, hell--let's go back and finish our juice. Think we could round up some food maybe?"

For a minute, he wasn't sure if she'd take the offer, but this time the smile made it to a sharp glint in her eyes. Nudging him in the side with her elbow, she asked, "Only if there's something other than orange juice."

"Oh, there's always military coffee--hell, we should give some to those Alliance guys. Stuff'd kill off anyone not used to it."

She didn't laugh, but the smile widened, and she at least came back with him to the others--nice he could get one of his team to follow him some of the time.

* * * *

From his peripheral vision, Daniel watched Sam and Mitchell walk back into the room. No need to make a show about it, but Sam was upset, and if Mitchell had made it worse...

But, no, Sam was smiling again, even if her eyes were shadowed. Sometimes Sam needed that military-to-military understanding. And he wished Jack was here to kick her butt and remind her that she had done good. Emerson had been an idiot. God, even Maybourne had never been so brainless. But Emerson had reminded Daniel just why it was that military personnel were not really well-suited to this job. They tended to think other people would follow rules, too.

Thank god, Jack had been special ops trained; the man had taught everyone at the SGC that sometimes it was better to smile, act stupid, and wait for a chance. Even Vala knew that. Emerson should have, too. Damn the man. Damn this ridiculous Alliance, as well. Jumped-up warlords out to exploit anyone at whom they could point a gun; they were almost as parasitical as the Goa'uld, and didn't have the excuse of genetic memories driving their delusions.

But Sam was partly right; he'd wanted her safe and he hadn't been bothered by Vala's solution if it got him what he wanted. Vala, however, had also just admitted that the other guy whose body they hadn't found had probably been the one who'd pulled the trigger on Emerson. He'd guessed they would never find that body, and he wondered if the man might be part of the Odyssey's hull now; Vala really had liked Emerson. But it wouldn't be good for Vala to start thinking she could make troubles disappear with a button and an Asgard beam.

She had a point, however, about some troubles being good ones to simply put out of sight like so much trash.

But, right now, what he wanted was something to lighten the shadows in Sam's eyes. Damnit, Emerson--you were supposed to stay alive. Jack's first rule--you stay alive. And, okay, that was a rule he'd more than bent himself, but Emerson had been military, so he should have been better at something like that.

Only he hadn't been.

But Mitchell seemed to be. He was making bad jokes now, too. Teasing Sam out of her mood, and Daniel watched, waited to see how it went. Under the table, Vala kicked his shin. When he glanced at her, she widened her eyes, stared hard at him, then nudged her head toward Sam.

Stiffened, he frowned back at Vala.

He knew what she'd been angling for in trade for her most recent confession--she'd told him. But he wasn't sure this was the time or place for that. But she started drumming her fingers on the table and when he looked at her again, she cocked her chin and lifted her eyebrows with expectation and he could guess she wasn't letting this go. And maybe she was right.

Her boot swung again, but he was ready and moved his leg so she only brushed by him. Then her fingers slid onto his thigh and into his lap. That got him to his feet. He not only did not trust Vala's hands, he didn't trust her ideas of motivational stimulus.

But the challenge in her expression softened as she glanced at Sam, then she looked back, all imploring stormy gray eyes. It wasn't just Emerson whom Vala liked. So he left her to cover his exit, headed into the kitchens.

It took fifteen minutes, abject begging, and a shameless promise to speak to General O'Neill about approvals on the next set of requisitions for the Odyssey's re-supply. He hadn't asked how Vala knew what he'd find, some gifts should just be accepted. She had taken a odd liking to kitchens; given her appetite, any place with food seemed to her to be something worth cultivation, enough so that he wondered how at times long it had been between feasts and famines for her.

Walking back with two plates and forks and slices of chocolate cake the size of which would impress even Teal'c, he had to focus on not toppling the cake, so he couldn't judge reactions. Damnit, Vala better be right about doing this now.

One slice of cake went to Sam, the other to Teal'c. Then he straightened and finally had a chance to take in their expressions. Teal'c already had his fork in hand and pleased appreciation warming dark eyes. Sam sat staring at the cake, wary of it, as if it might explode, then she glanced at him, her mouth quirking.

"I thought pie was the answer to everything?"

"Yeah, well, they didn't have pie. Jack'll have to fix that."

Eyeing Sam's cake, Mitchell leaned over her shoulder, then glanced up. "Two slices? The rest of us don't rate?"

Daniel glanced at Mitchell, folded his arms and stayed on his feet, out of Vala's reach. "Compensation for capture."

"Well, hell, I was in enemy hands," Cam protested, his own hands lifted.

"No, you were pretending to be enemy hands."

Picking up her fork, Sam gestured between Vala and Daniel. "What about you guys? I seem to remember both of you being behind a locked door earlier."

Vala smiled and sat up straighter. "I wouldn't say no to sharing. Isn't that one of your sayings--sharing always makes it better?"

"I think that's something about shared work and lightened load," Cam said, mouth pulled down and his stare kept on Sam's cake.

"Don't sulk--it's not pretty on a man. Well, maybe on Daniel."

"I don't--"

"Yes, you do. But if Sam shares her cake with me, I'll cut you in on my part of it." Vala started to lean across the table, but Teal'c slid his cake toward her and offered his fork.

"I would be most honored if you would partake of my portion."

With a smile, Vala scooted her chair closer to him, made the plastic-tipped legs scrape across the metal floor.

"Damn, am I the only one left out?" Eyes narrowing, Mitchell glanced up, and Daniel wasn't sure how to judge the man's expression. Then Mitchell dove in, swiped a large chunk of frosting from Sam's cake and settled back with a smirk.

Sam held up her fork, tines pointed at Mitchell. "Hey, my cake."

"Yeah, and didn't Jackson just say we need more bad guys? Maybe we can make do with being a little sneakier instead."

Head dropping down, Jackson shook out a slow no, then looked up and said, "Mitchell, you're an optimist."

Cam nodded. It sounded an accusation, but he'd take it anyway. "Whatever keeps you on your feet--and running," he said. And that was pretty much the truth.

He got another of those looks from Jackson, something between calculation and uncertainty, and it was good Jackson didn't know where to file him any more than he knew what to make of the other man. But he'd figured a couple things out.

One being he was glad Sam had come back with him with a smile. If she hadn't, going by Jackson's frown, there'd have been some words. Lots of them, and he already knew Jackson had a tongue on him sharp as a Thanksgiving carving knife.

Next thing was Jackson looked a whole lot more natural carrying plates of cake than he ever did hauling a P90 around. Which had to be part of the reason Jackson was still walking--the man really was forever being underestimated. Cam had just about made that same mistake, too, because a lot of times Jackson was that clueless geek, the guy who talked too much, or too little, who didn't know how to quit but who sometimes needed a push to start something, too.

But the third thing was that, when he clued in, Jackson wouldn't ever see any glass half-full--or cake half uneaten. Hell, he'd probably see things as not only on the way to empty, he'd be looking for the cracks and leaks. And be trying to fix them. Which is pretty much what he was trying to do here--fix things for Sam, because the rest of it he'd written off already. That's where that hardness in Jackson came from; the man expected bad to happen. It was a case of how bad it would be, and making sure those on his side were kept there and kept safe.

And now he knew why O'Neill had said what he'd said after he'd heard Cam had the band back together.

"You're going to have to watch out for Daniel."

Cam had taken that to mean look after--take care of the guy, try and keep him out of trouble, as if anyone ever had. Now he saw the other side of it--watch out for him. Jackson wasn't just a civilian you had an oath to protect; he was a guy who opened up Stargates, who stepped across galaxies, stirring up Ori and god knew what next. He was a guy who was damned dangerous because he worked outside conventional values--he had his own score card. Hell, no wonder the NID pretty much walked soft where the guy was concerned.

Part of Earth's best defense, and the man who'd dragged everyone into some of the worst disasters. A wild card in any deck. And Cam was a little more happy to have Vala around. She was more rogue than standard issue, so Daniel could push against her and against that side of things, and maybe that'd help.

On the other hand, these two brought out the juvie delinquent in each other, and it seemed like every time the two of them went off on their own, stuff more than happened. It wasn't just Jackson who'd opened this galaxy up for the Ori, after all.

But, watching Vala eat Teal'c's cake now, seeing Jackson snipe at her, hearing Sam snicker around a mouthful of food, it all seemed pretty easy. However, Cam had a wave of awareness hit hard that he was playing in the big time, and the price tag for failure just kept moving higher.

He glanced up, found Jackson's stare on him. He gave it back, caught a hint of something like deep water moving fast, then Vala said something, pulled Jackson's attention away. But he knew then that Jackson knew about that price tag, too. Oh, yeah, the guy way more than knew.

And that was one of the reasons Jackson was so pissed right now. They were fighting the Ori and didn't have time for this Alliance crap. They had it anyway. But this wasn't the time for worrying about that right now. No, tomorrow would show up in its own time.

His people seemed to know that, too. Cam watched Sam brighten as she washed the day away with cake and bad coffee that Daniel had also brought her. And then she got off into a tangent about that damn junker cargo ship Vala had gotten them. Teal'c wasn't bothered by any of it, but he'd also just about pounded a guy into jelly a few hours ago. That seemed to do him for the moment. Then the cake was done and folks were getting up, leaving. Cam headed for Jackson's side, stopped next to him, because he'd figured out what lay under all those other words and this guy's idea of a fishing trip.

"You're a good man, Jackson."

The comment startled Jackson's eyebrows into lifting, then falling fast and lifting again. "You sure?" he asked, didn't sound sure at all himself.

"Oh, yeah. You wouldn't be bitching about not having more bad ones otherwise. Way I see it, guys who can't tell the difference, they're the ones you really have to watch out for."

And, yeah, that had been tucked into General O'Neill's words, too. Watch out for Daniel--make sure the guy could keep seeing a difference. In himself. And the world around him. Cam had a pretty good idea that, for Jackson, it was a little too easy to see all sides of everything when all those ideas got going in his head. And that meant not seeing your way home all that clear.

Jackson's head lifted now. His face stayed blank, but his eyes narrowed a fraction, and Cam had seen this look on the man's face before. Careful consideration. Then he gave a small nod, only Cam wasn't sure if that was because he agreed.

"How much difference is there really?" Jackson asked, the strain of the day only now slipping into his words. "Force used--people dead."

"Yeah, but you said it before. Sometimes it's the reasons. 'Course, sometimes it's just not being the first one who pulls the trigger."

This time when Jackson nodded, Cam knew it was agreement--capitulation on a point made and Cam wanted to punch a hand in the air with a tight, "Yes!" Just for getting it right. But he kept that inside, slapped the other guy on the shoulder and called out, "Hey, who's up for seven card baseball no-peakie, jacks are wild?"

And he knew he was dealing Jackson into this hand, along with the rest of his team, even if he had to drag every one of them into it. Because, yeah, sweep-up was pretty much all a team leader could do at times. And these people were a little too good not to need very careful sweeping up and off after this hard a day.

But Jackson was wrong about one thing. They didn't need more bad people. Didn't need more good ones either. Just careful ones who knew how to look out for each other. And that sure as hell included Jackson.

** The End **

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