"This is it."
Daniel, knelt, the hint of a satisfied grin on his face as the prison cell rocked from the impact of a violent barrage. He watched, unmoving as Jack struggled to stand. Once Jack was on his feet, Daniel did the same, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.
"All you ever wanted was a fighting chance, Jack. If anyone can make it out of here, you can."
The confidence of Daniel’s words vanished with the image of the man, before Jack could argue their merit. His friend was wrong. Jack was drained, emotionally, mentally and physically. He had nothing left to give. Jack knew he was standing metaphorically on the edge of the abyss separating life from death. Only moments ago, his overriding desire was to die, begging Daniel to kill him and end his suffering. Ba’al’s repeated sadistic torture, followed by uncounted revivals in the sarcophagus had pushed Jack beyond the brink of endurance. He wobbled, feeling as unsteady as the vibrations rippling through Ba’al’s fortress. Apparently, Lord Yu was one very pissed off snakehead. As with everything that had happened to him since awakening in the sarcophagus the first time, Jack was unsure whether any of this was actually happening or were fever induced hallucinations from the illness ravaging his body.
"Daniel?" he called to the empty air as renewed bombardment echoed throughout the besieged fortress.
The wall indicator began to move, apparently on its own or, perhaps, with a little encouragement from a now unseen friend. Jack felt the gravity alter, as the floor tilted to become the wall and the wall the floor.
Imagined or not, what did he have to lose? Daniel had given him a chance; he may as well take it. It was either that or stay here cowering in this cell, awaiting his death. As he adjusted his body weight to the leveling of the wall, Jack glimpsed the tattered holes in his tunic-like shirt, the remnants of the knives impaled into his body or the drops of acid which ate with searing slowness into his chest. The remembered agony of Ba’al’s torture was very real to him. So apparently this was not a fever induced hallucination. Irrationally, he clung to the belief Daniel had been here, offering comfort, not conjured from his mind as a means to escape the torture.
The rotating cell ceased its movement. Jack took a hesitant step forward, amazed when he didn’t fall, and rushed from the cell. One of his Jaffa captors came into view. Instinct and Black Ops training took over. Without hesitation, Jack leapt onto the guard, knocking him down. He pummeled the Jaffa into unconsciousness. Reveling in the physical contact — that had not been imagined — Jack swiped the discarded Zat and stood.
Beating the crap out of the Jaffa invigorated him. Jack’s confidence grew. Empowered by the solidness of the weapon in his hand, he no longer felt the victim. Renewed hope flooded him. He could do this. Daniel said so.
Randomly selecting a direction, Jack hurried onward, intent on escape. One step at a time as Daniel had said. A chance. All he needed was a chance.
Jack quickly, but cautiously, rushed down the orange-hued corridor, rounding a corner leading into a maze of branching hallways. He caught movement out the corner of his eye and skidded to a stop before a cell identical to the one he’d fled.
She stood there, paralyzed with fear, garbed in black, as glimpsed in flashes of memory Jack knew not to be his own. It was the woman, the one Daniel told him didn’t exist, the one Kanan had fallen in love with, the one he’d apparently come back to rescue. So much for the all-knowing Mister Glowing Octopus, Jack snorted to himself. He entered the cell. The woman shrank away from his advance, her fear engraved on her beautiful, pale face.
"Ca’mon!!" Jack beckoned. They did not have time for this.
"No! He’ll stop us!" the woman pleaded even as Jack grabbed her hand and dragged her reluctantly behind him into to the corridor.
The feminine hand clutched in his felt real enough, Jack mused as he lead them down passageway after passageway. This maze was never ending. He had no idea where they were. Finally he heard his rational voice telling him this frenetic running was unproductive, evading Jaffa and hoping the next explosion wasn’t the one to blast them both into oblivion. Jack halted, the woman cowering behind him. He could sense her fear as a tangible thing. He eyed the corridors fingering into all directions. He hadn’t lied to Ba’al. The Tok’Ra had been here before, Jack hadn’t.
"Which way outta here?" he shouted over his shoulder to his terrified companion.
"Jack! This way!"
The calling of his name, clearly heard over the sounds of battle, came from Jack’s left. He peered down the long hallway to see an amorphous white object at the far end, a glowing tentacle pointing down an unseen intersection.
"Hell, why not," Jack muttered, advancing towards the glowing light, dragging the woman along. He had to be nuts. Definitely nuts. "I thought you weren’t supposed to interfere?" he commented sarcastically as he rounded the corner and turned left again.
"I’m not interfering," he heard Daniel’s answer from behind him.
"Right."
"Whom are you talking to?" the woman asked, her query similar to the one Daniel had asked of him in the cell.
"A major pain in the ass. Can’t you give me a little help here?"
"He’ll find us. He’ll kill us," came the predictable answer.
"Yeah, so you said."
The unmistakable sounds of Jaffa on the move echoed ahead of their location. Jack stopped and ushered the woman into a convenient alcove. He followed, shielding her with his body, Zat held ready to shoot anyone who came into view. He tried to ignore the tremor of the weapon in his shaking hand. His adrenaline rush was starting to fade, the sarcophagus withdrawal was beginning. Or a combination of both. Whatever, Jack refused to succumb. He was not going back into that torture chamber or that damned sarcophagus. He’d kill them both right here to prevent their capture wondering if there was the slightest chance he could zat the two of them into oblivion. If that were his only option, Jack would take it. That had not been a hollow threat to Daniel. After all, he’d been willing to sacrifice himself in the past to achieve a goal.
Jack squeezed his eyes closed to focus on regaining his composure and ordering the quivering of his body to cease. He experienced a flash of déjà vu, of running in the dark, pursued by Jaffa. Death before capture was a time honored Tok’Ra mandate. Jack opened his eyes. You could never trust a snake. When he got back to the SCG he would demand to know how this had happened. As he told Daniel, his last memory was being sick, consumed by a fever that was burning him alive. If he had been rational, he never would have agreed to have a snake in his head. Obviously someone had made that decision for him. They were so gonna pay. So, therefore, he was not going to die here. And neither was the woman.
He turned slightly, keeping the empty corridor in view but better able to address his reluctant companion. "Hey, I know you’re scared. So am I. But help me out here. You must know how to get out of this place."
Her answer was to adamantly shake her head and resume struggling to free her hand from Jack’s grip.
They so did not have time for this, but Jack realized if they were to survive, he had to make time. He couldn’t depend on Daniel to save their asses. If his friend had been here, Jack guessed Daniel had interfered way more than he should have. He’d given Jack this chance, a fighting chance. Despite Daniel’s emphatic denial, Jack was convinced his ethereal friend was, indeed, responsible for this long shot opportunity for freedom. It was up to him to see it wasn’t wasted.
"Look, what’s your name?"
"Shalen," came the tremulous reply.
"Shalen. That’s a nice name," Jack said, hoping he was grinning, not grimacing, to calm her and gain her confidence. "Hi, I’m Jack."
"You’re not…not Kanan?" Shalen asked. "Your voice, it sounds so different."
"Ahh no. As far as I know, he’s no longer with us…me. In me. Whatever." Jack took a deep breath to calm himself and school his face into one of friendly confidence. He had bad news to impart and the wo—Shalen—was scared enough already. "Kanan is dead. He died trying to free you. He loved you. That’s why I’m here. Unless you help me, we’re going to die, too. Do you want that?" Shalen shook her head. Jack took note of the sudden silence within the catacomb fortress. That was their cue to go. "Which way out of here?"
Shalen pointed down one of the branching corridors.
"Good girl," Jack praised squeezing her hand. "We are going to get out of here. Trust me?"
Shalen nodded her head. Jack mirrored her action before leading her from the alcove down the hallway to hoped for liberation from the fortress.
An indeterminate time later, Jack and Shalen knelt concealed behind some bushes and trees. Explosions and fires burning from Ba’al’s fortress marred the nighttime. The unrelenting bombardment of energy blasts fired from Yu’s mothership, or ships, from planetary orbit had ceased some time ago.
The mass exodus of fleeing Jaffa had ended. Either Ba’al was dead or he had abandoned his slaves to fend for themselves. Jack decided the latter explanation was more realistic. After his fifth tumble to the forest floor during their desperate run for freedom, Jack determined it was best to remain secluded. They would wait for the Jaffa to disappear before attempting to find the Stargate. If the Stargate remained to be found.
He didn’t want to admit to his exhaustion, but he knew it was a losing battle. Jack rested his forehead against the rough bark of an alien tree on another planet. He was so tired. The thought of simply collapsing and giving up tempted his half aware state, beguiling and seductive. Jack fought back the memories of his ordeal in the torture chamber, the pain, the suffering, growing weaker and weaker, losing more and more of himself. As Daniel warned, if he kept dying and going into that sarcophagus he would cease to be the Jack O’Neill they both knew. Jack questioned whether enough of him remained to justify struggling onward.
"Jack, you can’t give up now."
"What?"
Jack wearily opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded him. Shalen’s warmth and solidarity leaned against him as she rested. There were no sounds to disturb the quiet except muted booms of explosions from the collapsing fortress.
"You can’t give up now. It’s time to go the Stargate."
Jack peered into the blackness and saw Daniel kneeling beside him. "What?"
"I know you’re tired. But you have to hang in there a little while longer. It’s time to go," Daniel encouraged.
His meager strength faded as Jack’s forehead thumped against the tree trunk. "Danny, I can’t," he sighed grimacing as his muscles ached with tiny contractions. Sarcophagus withdrawal. Damn. He could not do this.
"Jack, after all Sam, Teal’c and Jonas did to help you, you can’t give up now. They’ll never forgive themselves. You don’t want them to carry that guilt forever, do you?"
"Good one, Daniel. Play the guilt card," Jack whispered with no trace of sarcasm.
He roused himself. Daniel was gone, if he had ever been there. Jack was becoming more convinced he was imagining all of this, despite Daniel’s insistence he wasn’t. His friend’s existence aside, there was one reality Jack clung to. No way in hell was he dying here. No way he was letting some damn snakehead destroy him. He had to ream someone’s ass for getting him into this mess in the first place. And the woman, Shalen. She trusted him to save her. How could he abandon her now?
"Shalen": Jack whispered, gathering his fading resolve for one, final dash towards escape.
The woman stirred and opened her eyes.
"Hey, time to go. Lead us to the Stargate, okay."
Shalen nodded her head and stood. She leaned over shouldering most of Jack’s weight onto her slim body. Together they stepped from their hiding place and moved forward. Jack, disoriented, the cramps in his muscles increasing in intensity, allowed the woman the double burden of carrying most of his weight and guiding them.
An agonizing eternity later, Jack became aware he was leaning heavily against the DHD. He could barely stand, the muscle cramps on the verge of becoming debilitating.
"Do you know a gate address where we can go?" he gasped.
"No. Knowledge of the Chaap’ai was forbidden to us."
"Great."
"Jack."
"Oh, I was so hoping you’d show up. I gotta tell you Daniel, this not inferring crap--."
"I’m not interfering," Daniel’s voice interrupted, a tiny timbre of denial in the tone.
"Right."
"Jack, look."
Jack pried open his eyes. One glyph on the DHD shimmered, encompassed by a nimbus of white mist. Even his pain-hazed muddled brain registered what that signified. "Shalen, press the glyphs when they light up," he hissed lowering his head as the contractions in his muscles worsened. Damn sarcophagus withdrawal.
His command redirected Shalen’s attention from a panic induced survey of the immediate surroundings back to the DHD and their current predicament. Obeying Jack’s order, one timid hand reached forward and compressed the highlighted glyph. "Where are we going?" she asked after the distinctive clang of the activated glyph faded and a second glyph was illuminated.
"I have no idea," Jack moaned. "Anywhere but here is my choice."
"The Tok’ra home base," Daniel’s voice answered.
This encouraged Jack to look towards the hazy shape. Assuming that was Daniel, he directed his ire towards it. "Oh, do we really have to go there?" he bitched before his voice and his pissyness waned.
"Yes, Jack you do," Daniel’s voice stated with infinite patience. "You don’t have a GDO," came the calm, logical reply.
Too tired to utter a snappy comeback, Jack hunched over the DHD trying to remain both conscious and standing. If he passed out now, Shalen could never hope to haul his dead weight to the wormhole. Maybe he should tell her to leave without him. He’d done his duty, gotten her away from Ba’al’s clutches to safety. Because of him, Kanan’s last mission would be a successful one. He gave the Tok’ra a begrudging kind thought despite the fact the symbiont kidnapped his body, brought him here, then abandoned him to torture hell. Because of his feelings for the woman, Kanan had risked everything, unfortunately Jack included, in attempting to rescue her. Jack’s experiences with the Tok’ra demonstrated they were more than willing to sacrifice anyone and everyone to achieve their goal of annihilating the snakeheads. Maybe Kanan’s little aberration was a sign Jacob’s influence was beginning to have an affect on the Tok’Ra mindset.
The unmistakable kawoosh of wormhole formation garnered all of Jack’s fading attention.
"You coming, too?" Jack directed his question to Daniel
"Yes, I will help you," was Shalen’s answer.
Whatever. Jack was in too much pain and too exhausted to even care anymore. He supposed Daniel was gone, if he had ever been here. He vaguely felt his right arm being lifted and repositioned over someone and a supportive grip around his waist. Under Shalen’s encouragement, Jack told his cramp beleaguered legs to move and he stumbled forward relying on her physical presence to keep him upright. He blearily saw the wormhole shimmer come closer then felt the sensation of falling into the event horizon, then nothing.
"Jack, do you want another beer?"
Physically startled by the question, Jack’s body shifted. He barely caught himself from tipping over with the canvas lawn chair. Righting his body, satisfied he wouldn’t fall on his ass, balance was restored. Now that the ground wasn’t moving, Jack reclined into the chair and took note of his surroundings.
Nice sunny day, azure blue sky, dotted by puffy white clouds, mild temperature accented by a warm breeze. This smelled exactly like Minnesota in summer. Before Jack could further explore that insane thought, the physical presence of a fishing rod made itself known as it rested securely in his right hand.
Jack straightened in his chair and looked, dumbfounded, at his surroundings. Trees, lots of trees, unmistakable Minnesota trees. On an impulse he looked over his shoulder and saw his grandfather’s cabin. Now wait a minute. He very definitely had a vague recollection of being somewhere else, somewhere very unpleasant.
"What the hell…." he muttered, his gaze focused downward to take in his attire: boots, faded jeans and light colored T-shirt. A tiny noise broke his confusion and he looked for the source.
To his left sat Daniel in an identical lawn chair, dressed in his white sweater and khaki pants. His friend was peering at him over the rims of his sunglasses, as he held forth a dark bottle of beer.
"What the hell," Jack repeated.
"You’re repeating yourself," Daniel corrected. "How about a yes or no to the beer?"
"Yeah, sure," Jack managed to say, accepting the cold, condensation glazed container. "Hey, if you’re energy now, how come you can hold this bottle?" he asked, unsure where the question came from.
Daniel grinned his enigmatic grin. "If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, then the meal was cooked a long time ago."
"Yeah, okay, forget I asked," Jack scoffed, twisting the cap off the bottle.
Relieved of his offering, Daniel retrieved a second beer for himself, flipping the cooler lid closed with the back of his hand. Jack noted Daniel also had a fishing pole resting across his lap. Daniel twisted off the bottle cap and took a sip beer.
"I thought you didn’t like beer." The statement was definitely inane to his ears, but right now Jack was too polaxed to stray from what he definitely knew to be a reality from the past.
"I don’t," Daniel confirmed setting the open bottle on the deck beside his chair. "But since you always emphatically declared you can’t fish without beer…" Daniel shrugged. He lifted his rod took a few practice flips then cast his line. The hook and sinker flew a respectable distance before popping into the mirrored surface of the lake creating tiny, quick fading waves.
Okay, Jack thought, he was so definitely not in Kansas anymore. He decided he had to do the most rational thing he could think of. "You can’t watch sports on TV without beer."
"You can’t eat pizza without beer," Daniel quickly countered easily falling into their familiar game.
"You can’t, fill in the blank, without beer," Jack declared. God, how he missed this. He watched Daniel’s profile. The shy little grin appeared. Touché. Enough of fun. Now, time to get answers. "What the hell are we doing here?"
"Fishing."
"Daniel." Jack’s further protests were cut short by Daniel’s upraised hand and habitually pointed finger.
"This is your safe haven, Jack. The place in your mind where you retreat to escape pain, any pain." Daniel paused, his gaze roaming, taking in the solitude and peace this place of sanctuary offered. "I can see why you’d come here when you can’t deal with …stuff."
"Okay, I admit I’ve been on a really bad trip of late: fever, snake in the head, seeing ghosts. But wasn’t I going through the Stargate?"
"Yes," Daniel confirmed, "You lost consciousness en route. Right now, your physical body is at the Tok’ra home base. But your mind, is here. Because you’ve endured too much too quickly, your illness, the implantation."
Jack winced.
"Sorry," Daniel apologized before continuing, "The torture, dying repeatedly, the sarcophagus, escaping, your mind couldn’t cope any more and shut down. Subconsciously you’re trying to decide whether you want to give up and die or struggle past all the pain and live."
"So, what are you doing here?"
"I’m here for you, Jack. Like you were for me after Kelowna. Like you said in the cell, putting ourselves in each other’s shoes." Daniel peered over the sunglasses again, his blue eyes emphasizing the seriousness of Jack’s current situation. "I’m here for you," he repeated.
"I thought you weren’t supposed to interfere?"
"I’m not interfering. I’m fishing." Daniel emphasized his declaration with a graceful arch of his eyebrows.
"Right." This is too weird, Jack thought.
"So, this is your grandfather’s cabin in Minnesota," Daniel continued the conversation. "It’s nice. Sam doesn’t know what she’s missing. I can’t understand why Teal’c didn’t find this place relaxing."
"You never came." Jack heard the hurt accusation in his words and immediately wanted to take them back.
"I know." All of Daniel’s forgiveness of Jack’s accusation, and sorrow at an opportunity lost, were given voice with those two words.
"Invitation’s still open," Jack offered.
"I know that, too. Maybe, one day."
"You’re assuming, of course, there will be a one day," Jack scoffed.
Lowering his fishing pole, Daniel removed his sunglasses, focusing his attention on Jack. "I won’t lie, Jack. If you decide to live, the sarcophagus withdrawal will be another torture to endure. Remember, I know. I can still help you ascend if that’s what you want. Or, you can let go and die. No one would blame you, least of all me. Whatever you decide, you won’t be alone.’
"Because you’re fishing."
"Exactly."
Daniel returned the sunglasses to his face. He reeled in his line and recast settling in to wait.
Jack watched, expecting Daniel to say more. His friend, or Jack’s imagined version of Daniel as he remained undecided whether this manifestation of his friend was real or conjured from his own desperate desire to share Daniel’s company once more, remained uncharacteristically silent.
A sudden thought burst into Jack’s frontal lobe. "The woman, Shalen—"
"She’s fine, Jack. You saved her."
"No, she saved herself. She was scared but she hung in there."
"Yes, she did," Daniel agreed, "because you gave her that hope, Jack."
"Maybe."
Jack looked around the familiar setting. The warmth of the sun, real or imagined, felt good on his face. He relaxed, his body melting into the comfort of the lawn chair. No pain, only peace, serenity. He knew he couldn’t indulge for long as he had a major decision to make.
"Danny?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I’ll sit here and fish awhile."
Daniel nodded his reply.
Jack rewound his own fishing line and recast. This felt great. No suffering, physical or emotional, no command decisions of life and death, no fighting the snakes, no burden of saving the world weighing heavily on his shoulders. Maybe it was all getting old after all, and it was time for him to step away from the Stargate program, life, all of it. He slowly reeled in his line, conscious of Daniel’s comforting presence beside him. If this is what awaited him in the afterlife….nice. Daniel’s second offer of ascension was well meaning but like he’d said before, he was not Daniel. The gift of ascension was a reward offered to those special souls of the universe, those unique and rare people. Daniel was more than worthy of this gift; but Jack wasn’t, no matter how hard his friend tried to convince him otherwise. Reviewing his life, Jack believed he had always fulfilled his duty with honor and integrity. He had given what service to his country, and planet, had demanded of him and done it well. Didn’t he deserve the reward of rest and peace? Jack decided he didn’t have many regrets—Sara and Charlie, the two major exceptions. Well, he amended, glancing towards Daniel, maybe a few outstanding ones he could fix now.
"Danny?"
Again the sunglasses were removed as Daniel turned his head to face Jack.
Jack cleared his throat. "About what I didn’t tell you before you ascended…"
"I already knew, Jack. You didn’t have to say it."
Accepting Daniel’s absolution, Jack blew out his breath. "And that crack about Jonas being as smart as you, I didn’t mean it."
"I know."
"I miss you, Daniel."
Daniel’s shy grin reappeared. "I miss you, too, Jack."
Knowing they were bordering on total mushiness, which manly men do not do, Jack steered the conversation to safer ground.
"So….what if I decide to retire from life permanently?"
"If that’s your choice, I support it."
‘What, no trying to talk me out of it?"
"No."
"How come not now but before?"
"Before you were asking me to help you die. You’re in a different place now, Jack. If you won’t accept ascension, I’ll let you go."
"Before, in the cell, after I’d asked, and you said no, you weren’t there, and I thought…" Jack’s words failed. It was very difficult for him to confess how scared he’d been thinking Daniel had abandoned him after all, or worse, had never been there.
"I know. I’m sorry," Daniel apologized again. "I promised I wouldn’t leave you."
"So, where were you?"
"I had something to do," Daniel repeated his previous explanation.
"Something to do with Carter and Teal’c?"
Daniel remained silent. The silence was answer enough for Jack.
"Because you’re not allowed to interfere."
"Right," Daniel confirmed.
Jack glanced away from the blue-eyed gaze full of compassion, understanding and sadness. The message was very clear. Daniel was his best friend. Because of their relationship, Daniel had broken the rules to help Jack, to help him live. Daniel would miss Jack but he would let his friend go if that’s what Jack wanted. Jack laid his fishing pole on the deck and vigorously rubbed his face with his hands. Decision time.
"I’m so tired, Danny," Jack confessed before dropping his hands into his lap.
"I understand." There was no censure in Daniel’s voice, only sad acceptance.
Jack inhaled, straightening his posture in the lawn chair. He took in the ambience of this place, reminding himself why he loved it, why it was his sanctuary, and why the only people he ever considered sharing it with had been his three teammates, his family. He was convinced if he let go of life, this is where he would stay for eternity. But did he want to spend eternity here alone? Jack refocused on Daniel, his gaze steady and level. He chose his words carefully.
"But not tired enough to give up just yet. I can’t abandon Carter and Teal’c after they," Jack emphasized in case someone was eavesdropping, "thought up this great plan to give me a fighting chance. I mean, if I go, who’s Thor gonna beam up the next time the Asgard need us to save their little gray butts?"
The hint of a relieved smile graced Daniel’s face, encouraging Jack to continue.
"It’s Cassie’s birthday next month. I promised her a grown up celebration. I can’t disappoint her, can I?"
Daniel’s smile grew.
"Besides, how’re you gonna fulfill that open invitation to come here fishing if I’m not around? So I guess the universe will just have to deal with a cranky Jack O’Neill a little while longer. And I have to find out who gave the okay for me to get snaked without my say so. We’re so gonna have a nice little chat about that." Jack’s tone left no doubt retribution would be sought. He paused, gathering his thoughts before resuming. "We both know I tried the dying thing once before. Some geeky archeologist, who’s way smarter than I am, stopped me. Looks like he’s stopping me again."
"No," Daniel denied. "You made this decision on your own, Jack. I’m not—"
"Allowed to interfere, yadda, yadda. Whatever. You know, the glowing white octopus look just isn’t me. Looks good on you, though," Jack teased. That earned him a familiar long-suffering stare from Daniel. "But thanks for the offer. For believing I’m a better man than I think I am. So," Jack straightened, using the action to steer them clear of that mushy stuff again. "I take it my body is still at the Tok’Ra base?"
Daniel nodded, his smile never wavering.
"What the hell is taking so damn long?" Jack groused, shifting in his chair. Now that his decision was made, he wanted to just get on with it before he changed his mind.
"Actually, Sam, Teal’c, Jonas and Janet have just arrived to take you home." Daniel tilted his head as if listening to something only he could hear. "They’re here. Time to go."
"Hey, will I see--" Jack’s question remained unfinished. His vision blurred into nothingness, his last memory that of Daniel sitting in the lawn chair at his grandfather’s cabin in Minnesota.
Doc’s drugs were working miracles, considerably easing the pain from the multiple muscle spasms of the sarcophagus withdrawal. The sedatives were welcomed, too. Jack could never recall experiencing the benefits of a batch of happy juice this potent. Nonetheless, deep restive sleep eluded him as it had during Daniel’s withdrawal so long ago. Jack dozed hinging on the edge of awareness. The passage of time had no meaning for him. He vaguely recalled the nurses routinely checking his progress, occasionally sensing the supportive presence of one or more of his teammates as they came and went. He slit open his eyelids hoping, as with the previous times, to see Daniel had changed his mind and decided to stick around for this special occasion after all, standing vigil at his bedside, arms crossed, effusing calm with that hint of a relieved look on his face that Jack was going to be okay. But there was no Daniel, no glowing light, and no sense of his friend’s presence. Disappointed, Jack closed his eyes.
He was still not totally convinced Daniel had been with him throughout this ordeal. Jack decided he wasn’t going to tell anyone. His debriefing, when he was well enough to give it, would be short. Snaked by Kanan, he was abandoned by the Tok’Ra, captured and tortured by Ba’al, miraculously escaping when Yu attacked the secret fortress with the help of Shalen. No mention of Daniel because everyone would think he was nuts if he did. Yet, a part of Jack didn’t want to believe Daniel had never been there for him, or was gone forever. What he did know without reservation was he could not have survived without Daniel’s help, real or imagined. Not allowed to interfere his ass, Jack mentally snorted. Daniel interfered from the moment he appeared in that cell, or Jack conjured the essence of Daniel in that cell. Daniel had given Jack unwavering support, guidance and most importantly, a fighting chance to live when Jack had given up all hope of leaving Ba’al’s fortress alive. Deja’vu. Before Daniel departed, he assured Jack that both of them were going to be okay as their paths diverged once again. Jack trusted Daniel and that trust and belief in his astral friend was the strength Jack would rely upon to see him through this recovery. It would be hard but he had obligations to people he cared about.
And a long overdue fishing date in Minnesota he was going to hold Daniel to even if it took forever.
Finally, Jack slept, at peace with himself, for the first time since Daniel’s ascension.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story was first published in Iris Code 4. For those of you avoiding the majority of the season-that-shall-not-be-named (as I am), see the summary. This should be safe to read.
© March 2004 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are not owned by me. They are the property of SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is written for entertainment purposes only: no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended.