Daniel sighed, the sound loud in the quietness of his office. It was well past midnight and most of the base personnel had left hours ago. Daniel sat back in his chair, yawning and stretching, as he idly glanced around the room he spent so much time in. The shelves were crammed with books and artifacts. His books. His artifacts. His desk was buried under the weight of dozens of unfinished translations and yet more artifacts and tablets awaiting his attention. He smiled, a feeling of contentment filling him. This is where he wanted to be – it just felt so right.
Only hours before he’d sat in Kel-no-reem with Teal’c and told his large friend that, for the first time in his life, he felt he was part of something, something important. And it was true.
Daniel really hadn’t felt like he’d belonged anywhere since he’d lost his parents at the age of eight. The expanse of years did little to dull the feelings of overwhelming love his parents had showered on him. Their sudden deaths had left him isolated. All through his years in the foster care system he carried this feeling of seclusion. The only real connection he’d felt was with the written word.
His immense intellect had created further isolation for him, isolation due to the age difference between himself and his fellow students at college. His off-the-wall ideas had distanced him further when he’d ventured out into the archaeology community.
When he was at his lowest, a savior in the unlikely guise of an elderly woman had offered him a chance, a job. That had led Daniel to a life on a distant world. But again he faced a degree of isolation. Not by Sha’ri, who accepted and loved him for who he was, or by Kasuf or Skaara but there were those among the Abydonians who viewed him with trepidation and awe and never truly accepted him as one of them.
Then suddenly, a year later and after life shattering, tragic events, he found himself part of a team. He’d been on teams before, of course. Debating teams in college, archaeology teams in remote parts of the world. Nothing like this though. And his teammates . . . he’d never met people like them before either.
Daniel remembered the tentative friendship he and Jack had started during that first mission to Abydos. He and the Air Force Colonel had parted, thinking to never see each other again, and they had both felt the loss.
They steadily built a solid friendship over the following years. Jack had been Daniel’s rock during the years he’d searched for Sha’ri, though Daniel had already begun to chafe at the restrictions Jack had placed him under even before his wife’s death.
Daniel had found Sam to be a delight from their first meeting. So many times they were able to communicate without words, allow their love of discovery to overwhelm them, blot out everything and everyone else. They shared amusement at Jack’s frustration with them. Daniel had found a true friend in one of the smartest people he’d ever meant. Sam supported him when Jack was too harsh, quietly sympathizing with him.
Out of all his teammates Teal’c was the one Daniel had the most difficulty accepting as part of SG-1. It had been a struggle to overcome his intense resentment for the Jaffa’s part in Sha’ri’s predicament. Nevertheless, he could see the events from Teal’c’s point of view and came to truly appreciate the warrior for his sense of honor. It was strange, over six years later that it was Teal’c he would come to feel the closest to, considering Teal’c’s unwitting role in the death of the person Daniel had loved most in his life.
Early on in SG-1 there were days Daniel feared the rest of the team saw him as more of a hindrance than a help. Daniel knew, at times, he tried the patience of those around him. He just hoped they felt it was worth putting up with his idiosyncrasies for the contribution he made.
Daniel continued to feel he had to fight to keep his place on the team and the constant struggle to prove himself wore him down. Daniel spent a lot of time worrying Jack was going to pull him off the team and ground him on base permanently. But, still he couldn’t change who he was, what he believed in.
Just when he’d started to feel like he was becoming a real part of the team, being seen as an important contributing member, Sha’ri was killed and everything fell apart again.
In his grief when Sha’ri was gone, Daniel had built a wall between himself and the rest of his team. This was what he’d done as a child when his parents had been ripped away from him, only this time the immense grief was accompanied by guilt and anger. Anger at Apophis for taking his beloved, anger at himself and his insatiable curiosity, which overwhelmed his good sense, and guilt that he’d unburied the Stargate again.
The rest of the team, not knowing how to deal with him had backed away, allowing him room. It was General Hammond, who had lost his own wife, who decided Daniel had had enough time alone. He’d calmly braved Daniel’s stony silences. Once the lines of communication had again been opened, Sam had done the rest. She’d reached out and eventually, while Jack had been marooned off world on Edora and Daniel was feeling particularly dejected and lonely, pulled him out of his depression and back into the real world.
Daniel’s life was divided into periods. Before his parent’s death. Before he graduated. Before he lost Sha’ri. Before he ascended. The period between losing Sha’ri and ascending was the hardest of his life. When he came out of his grief he was a different person – he could see the rest of the team struggling to learn how to deal with the new Daniel. He became more and more determined to do whatever was necessary to accomplish what he thought was the right thing, even if it meant going up against the rest of the team. And, sometimes, that was exactly what he had to do.
Regretfully, the missions they went on changed – the focus of the SGC shifted. Daniel often felt like a fifth wheel, having no necessary function within the team. He strived to be the best soldier he could, taking more weapons and defense classes. If his team needed him to be a soldier then that is what he would be, and he’d be the best soldier he was capable of being. He didn’t want to let them down.
His relationship with Jack never went back to the closeness they’d shared during the early years of SG-1, before a combination of events changed them. This rattled Daniel’s confidence. At times he wondered if he was doing the right thing, staying in the team but couldn’t envisage them going off world without him. What if they ran into a situation only he could solve and, with him not there, they were killed? He’d never forgive himself. So he learned to juggle the feelings of inadequacy against the companionship he shared with his teammates, which he so cherished. However, he still never really felt like he belonged.
The episode with Reece shook him to the core and he said things to Jack he immediately regretted, his anger and frustration building to a point where he lost control, lost sight of who he was and who he was talking to. He’d apologized to the older man later, after all the sweeps had been done, and had seen the understanding in Jack’s face but Daniel had seriously begun to think of leaving SG-1 and possibly the SGC.
Kelowna. Daniel frowned. His memories of this time were still pretty fuzzy and he surmised this was probably for the best. Even though he’d saved the Kelownans and again done what he’d thought was the right thing, he’d ended up hurting not only himself but all those in his life who loved him.
Daniel wondered if Oma had deliberately prevented him from remembering the very worst of his death. If she had then, after reading up on the effects of radiation poisoning, he was truly grateful to her.
Flashes of memory came to him. Memories of Sam crying at his bedside. Memories of Teal’c standing so tall and proud but with heartbreak in his eyes. Memories of Jack struggling to articulate his feelings, managing to convey more with the few awkward words he uttered than if he’d rambled on for hours.
More than anything else these memories convinced Daniel exactly how much his three teammates loved him.
It was only recently, when he’d been struggling to remember what he’d witnessed of Bra’tac and Ry’ak while he was ascended, that these memories of his death had come to him. He was glad he’d been alone and had been able to cry in solitude. He didn’t tell the others he’d remembered. They still believed he didn’t remember anything after the accident on Kelowna. Daniel decided it was best to let them go on believing that.
Human memory can be a strange thing. He may not remember much of the time he was ascended but he remembered every detail of suddenly finding himself naked in a field with strangers standing above him and no memory of . . . anything. Just a vague feeling that he’d done something wrong.
In the two months he’d been on Vis Uban he’d failed to connect with anyone there, except for Shamda. The people were unsure of him so held themselves apart. He was unsure of them, and himself, so made no moves to breach the gap. Only Shamda had time for him, mainly because Daniel was prepared to sit for endless hours and listen to the old man’s stories over and over again. Daniel felt comfortable with Shamda. The old man’s obsession with the past seemed to suit Daniel. It gave him peace as he felt they shared a common interest.
Daniel was so sure he was being punished for something he had done. He almost convinced himself he was a bad person, even though he couldn’t reconcile that with the feelings of compassion he harbored for his fellow man.
Daniel studied Jack as he sat in the tent before him that day, the tension obvious in the way the other man held himself. Daniel, while taking in Jack’s words, was studying the stranger’s body language. It was with some surprise he realized that this man cared for him, it was so obvious and he was making no attempt to hide it.
This man wanted him to return with them to another planet. Earth. The name stirred feelings inside of Daniel. He was not sure what these feelings were but they made him uneasy. Earth. Something bad had happened there, something painful that he, even now, shied away from.
Samantha Carter was a beautiful woman and so committed to convincing him to return with them. He studied her too, her words provoking more feelings in him but this time different. His eyes roamed her face and he was filled with warmth. If he was such a bad person, would she so obviously care for him?
The big man, Teal’c, held himself with such pride but those brown eyes were so expressive, more than Daniel would have thought. The feelings Daniel glimpsed within those eyes as they made their way towards the Stargate convinced him he had made the correct decision to return to Earth.
Jonas, the fourth member of this team of people, stood back from the rest. Daniel was unable to read him at all. Jonas hadn’t contributed to trying to convince Daniel to return with them, had barely uttered a word since Daniel had announced he was going home, going back to Earth. It wasn’t until they reached the Stargate and Daniel watched Jonas dial Earth on the DHD that their eyes had met. This time the other man smiled and Daniel smiled in return, his confidence that he’d made the right decision returning.
The trip back through the Stargate was . . . amazing. He nearly stumbled over his feet as he both tried to walk down the strange metal ramp and crane his neck to see as much of this barren room as he could. Earth. Not what he’d expected.
Daniel turned to the front and felt another surge of feeling flow through him at the sight of the man in uniform waiting for them at the foot of the ramp. Daniel didn’t recognize this man but his voice instilled a sense of security and courage within him.
Another voice that instilled courage was this doctor, Janet Fraiser. Though small in stature she exuded confidence and an air of command. Daniel felt a flutter of memory, of another time he’d been in this complex under this woman’s care. He remembered her compassion and caring and happily stayed with her while she ran a multitude of tests before Jack came to collect him and show him to his temporary quarters.
It was as if the photograph of Sha’ri was a switch. He held the photo, fell asleep and dreamed of his lost wife then woke with the first real memory he’d been able to hold onto and the first feeling of hope. It was like a door had opened. He’d see something that would trigger another memory which in turn would trigger another. Some days he simply spent the time sitting staring at the wall seeing a movie playing in his head, filling in the gaps in his life.
He’d been repeatedly asked the same question since he’d descended. "How does it feel to be back?"
Daniel sat still for a moment, considering the question for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months. How did he feel? The doubts and feelings of being a failure that had overwhelmed him in the weeks before Kelowna and during the hours Oma had helped him to ascend were gone. What the distance of a year hadn’t done to dispel these misconceptions, his teammates had.
He guessed he would never remember all of his life. Most people didn’t. He knew Oma had a reason for not letting him remember his ascension. He could live with that. He had a life he enjoyed, doing a job with people he loved. Daniel smiled and sighed contentedly. What more could a man ask for?
Thanks to Judy DeV for this story idea - I wrote 6 stories dealing with SG-1, Janet, Hammond and the Chevron guy’s feeling about Daniel’s return. I hadn’t even thought about doing one from Daniel’s POV until Judy suggested it. Thank you. Again thank you to Aloysuis. Without her support I would never find the confidence to post these.
© November 18th, 2003 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, SCI FI Channel, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. These stories are for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. These stories may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.