He’s a good man, is Dr Daniel Jackson.
He sees the best in everyone, hopes for the best in everything. Unfortunately the fates tend to knock his optimism and dish him the worst of everything.
But despite that he still manages to stay true to himself, and his outlook on life.
Too many people around here see his goodness as weakness, particularly those dyed-in-the-wool military types. Just because he’ll use words rather than bullets and looks for the peaceful route out - but he’s not weak, he’s not a coward.
I’ve been guilty of believing him weak myself, when I first met him – I wrote him off as a geek, a man who had never experienced anything of real life, of what made life tough. Someone who would run and hide rather than stand and fight. How wrong I was.
It takes guts to do the things he’s done. To live the life he’s led. He has an inner strength, and he uses that to deal with all the crap that the universe throws at him and boy does it throw crap at him – with a vengeance.
I remember when we were talking about losing our families that first night back in my house, when he’d been dragged back from Abydos, when he tried to pretend that the only reason he was close to tears was because he was drunk. Drunk – on two beers for crying out loud – I now know that he was embarrassed about his tears, that he would rather I thought he was unable to hold his beer than appear to be a man who cares. I also now know that if he’s in the right mood he can drink me under the table. What I didn’t find out until later was that he was trying to be considerate of my feelings, about losing Charlie. He thought his loss was somehow less than mine - that he shouldn’t be complaining.
And the universe wasn’t done with him then – it just shovels crap in Daniel’s direction by the truckload. First he lost his parents, and then Nicholas Ballard rejected him and left an eight year old kid to grow up alone. Somehow he found the guts to go on, and follow them all into the same field. He decided to stand by his beliefs, even at the cost of his career. He staked his future on something that he couldn’t prove, but that he passionately believed in. He became a joke.
He was proven right, but by a cruel twist of fate, he cannot use that proof to redeem himself in the eyes of the world, in the eyes of his peers. To the archaeological world, Daniel Jackson is still a joke, as his is grandfather – the nutty professors. The men who believe in the wildest theories, who talk rubbish. If only they knew, all those stuffy academics with their condescending attitude. If they realised that the nutters were out there in the universe, talking to the aliens, saving their world, keeping it safe. I so want to be at Daniel’s side when he can tell them, when they realise the truth. I want to see their faces and watch Daniel savour that moment; because of all people he deserves it.
He deserves it, because fate just goes on heaping shit on the doorstep of Daniel Jackson. He delivered his wife’s baby, the product of her union with another man. I could never have done what Daniel did. He saves it, takes it away, makes sure it’s safe, because the child is his wife’s. I would have tried to kill the bastard who fathered the brat. Not Daniel. He gives the evil son-of-a-bitch comfort in his dying hour, even though deep down he wanted to throttle Apophis. That takes the kind of strength and guts that most men wish they had.
Then he finds Sha’re, after years of searching and hoping – and what happens? His wife dies in his arms, killed by a friend. I’m not sure what I’d have done. I’ m not sure I’d still be speaking to Teal’c now if it was me, let alone calling him friend. And Daniel? His first words were to forgive Teal’c for what he’d done.
On the rebound, our Danny goes and meets a gorgeous girl. Real honey. Clever, attractive, obviously has the hots for him in a big way. Turns out she’s a mass murderer with amnesia. Somehow he gets over that one too.
One of his oldest friends is taken over by a Goa’uld. I killed Rothman to save us. Daniel told me that he understood why it happened - that I had had no choice. He said the same after we’d committed him. That he understood. We had no choice.
But he was wrong. We could have waited longer before shipping him off with Mackenzie and his goons, letting them stuff him full of their drugs. I could have merely injured Rothman so we could have brought him back and tried to save him.
And then, just as he’s getting over all that, his university professor dies. Turns out he’s died at the hand of Daniel’s ex – another real honey. But she’s got a snake in her head. Tries to kill another old friend, Daniel, Carter and Doc Fraiser. Daniel took longer to get over that one. I think that was one friend too far. He did get over it though, eventually.
If it had been left to me I wouldn’t be here now. If it hadn’t been for Daniel Jackson I would be dead. Poor Sara would have found another O’Neill with a bullet in his head… I don’t think she would have survived that, so Daniel saved her too in a way.
Daniel worked out what the Stargate was, how it worked, what the cartouche meant. They sent for me. If they had arrived twenty minutes later, they’d have been too late. It was that close.
Then he saved me again on Abydos – when Ra’s Jaffa were going to shoot me – he took that staff weapon blast that was meant for me. Why he did that I’ll never know. I didn’t believe I was worth saving. I was ready and willing to die.
And when he was supposed to kill the three of us - me, Kawalsky and Ferretti - he didn’t. Nope, the geek turned that weapon on Ra and his men. That’s the moment when I realised that this guy was something different – not just the stereotype that I had labelled him with. He handled that weapon like a pro.
And when he and I got the same idea at the same time, to blow Ra to kingdom come, that’s when I realised how alike we actually are. We both want the same thing; we just get there differently.
I shoot first ask questions later. Daniel does the reverse. He tries to get the answers first. Then when he doesn’t get the answers he is more than capable of blowing them away. Believe me; Daniel is scary when he’s shooting. I think I’d feel more comfortable if he really was a bumbling geek who doesn’t know one end of a gun from the other.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m really happy that he’s not especially when we’re in a tight spot. Having an intelligent man who really can watch your six is like having your cake and eating it. But somehow it feels wrong. It feels like every time Daniel uses a gun a little bit of his soul gets eroded away. Like when he was using that damned sarcophagus.
That was a close one. I really thought that he was going to shoot me - that the sarcophagus addiction had taken the last shreds of Daniel from us. But he was still there. When he looked at me, eyes wild over the gun, and then just crumpled into tears - that is the one time I think any of us have got close to seeing Daniel the lost, lonely little boy, the eight year old kid that fate dumped on.
But he got over that. Daniel always gets over everything.
I think he’ll even get over this one.
We’re sitting in the infirmary, waiting for the plaster cast to harden before Doc takes another x-ray of that wrist, to make sure it’s set right.
Our different methods have finally clashed head-on, and he is mad about it because my method won the day this time. We’re sitting in silence. In fact we’ve barely exchanged two words since he called me a stupid son of a bitch.
I’ll leave him to brood for a while. He knows I was right. He’s a smart guy. When he’s not hurting so bad, when he’s had time to think, he’ll realise that I was right about this one.
As for the insult - I’ll let it ride. I’ll even accept stupid from Daniel. Daniel is entitled to call just about anyone stupid, except possibly Carter. He’s insulting my mother, but Mom wasn’t here to hear it so it doesn’t matter. I know Daniel doesn’t mean it, not deep down. He’s just angry that his way didn’t work this time.
Because for all his apparent humility and self-effacing behaviour, Daniel Jackson is arrogant. I read the report on his translation of the original cartouche from Egypt. "This translation is wrong…who translated this" is not the way to endear yourself to people. Fortunately he’s learnt a bit since then. His people skills are much improved.
So he cannot bear to accept that he didn’t resolve this one. He may have got there in the end given time, but time wasn’t a luxury we had. I trust Daniel implicitly, whole-heartedly, without question, and if we’d had all the time in the world I’d have been confident that Daniel would have saved the day. He did with Lotan and the Gadmeer and the Enkarans, he did it with Ke’ra, he somehow did it with that Unas, and I know without a doubt that he would have gotten through to Reece if we’d only had the time…
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Found this on my hard drive when tidying up. Forgotten I wrote it…Once again, huge thanks to Ali for the beta.
© November, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. I have merely borrowed them, and promise to give them back the way I found them – well, more or less, anyway! Rats – TPTB want Danny back – I wasn’t quick enough there, although I’ve had lots of fun playing….<g>! The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author