"I joined this program so I could find my wife. I found her. End of story..."
Long eyelashes blinked. The blue eyes slowly refocused, staring intently at the journal in his hands as the words he'd uttered in a virtual experience echoed hauntingly in his mind.
Daniel Jackson leaned back on the couch in his apartment. The sun's warming rays had ceased to illuminate his cluttered living quarters, scattered with books and artifacts from cultures long past. A single 100-watt bulb from the lamp beside him now cast its long shadows into the room. He laid the pen down on the end table, then shut the book, realizing that by doing so, he'd symbolically shut a chapter in his life as well.
It had been a week since that fateful day on P8X-873, a remote and forlorn world located … somewhere. A pin mark on a map, another computer-generated designation to be dutifully logged away in the annals of the top-secret SGC complex.
A week since finding Sha're … only to lose her forever.
The burial ceremony had taken place on Abydos, two days after the battle on P8X-873. The vast sand dunes which rolled lazily across the arid planet had seemed both welcoming and desolate at the same time. A world that had once opened its arms to him seemed smaller, perhaps because the most important person in the world to him was now being confined to its depths.
In a bizarre manner, the ceremony replicated the virtual experience he'd been through. Jack had been there, in his dress blue uniform. Daniel couldn't recall seeing him in that suit more than half a dozen times, if that, since they'd met. Sam, General Hammond, and Dr. Frasier were there again ... and Teal'c. That part had changed. The Jaffa had been conspicuously absent in that other 'reality,' banned by Daniel's own quiet grief and anger over Teal'c's responsibility for his wife's death.
He'd lived days within seconds as Amaunet's ribbon device had burned into his very being. Sha're's voice had broken through the sheer agony, imploring him to listen and then… it was though time distorted and he was at the SGC, dealing with her death, her resurrection, and then back again, to Amaunet's sadistic smile, and finally, full circle to Sha're's death.
He honestly couldn't remember how long he'd lain on the carpet inside the tent, his body still reeling from the ribbon device's effects but more so, his mind fighting to accept what was now his reality. He would never forget Sha're's last moment of life. The cold white glow from Amaunet faded away, leaving the warmth of his wife's eyes. The loving eyes he'd looked into countless times on cold desert nights, the joy they'd shared where no words were ever necessary.
Amaunet hadn't broken her spirit. As her body lay dying, Sha're had summoned the strength to say that she loved him. He hadn't been able to utter those words in response – so great was his shock -- before her eyelids closed and her life slipped away.
The words didn't need spoken, she'd known how much he'd loved her, and somehow in her last moments she'd help him realize the inevitability of her fate.
Looking back, in the cold, clear light of day, he'd come to recognize that Sha're had seen what Amaunet had chosen to dismiss: Teal'c. Amaunet's pride, along with her desire to rid her host of what she valued the most, had blinded her to the threat the Jaffa posed. But Sha're -- she'd seen it, had known what her captor's arrogance would cost them both -- and gave Daniel a glimpse of that future.
Amaunet would have killed him. Deep in his heart, he knew he would never have been able to take Sha're's life, even if it cost him his own. If Teal'c hadn't fired the fatal shot, then Daniel would have died with the horrible knowledge that Sha're would have remained under the Gou'ald's tyranny forever.
Kasuf had entered the tent to find his son-in-law lying next to his fallen daughter, although now their heads touched in mute testament, and Daniel's hand laid lovingly upon her cheek. Together, the two men mourned the loss of the women they'd both loved.
Jack had helped Daniel to his feet, and both he and Sam had gently escorted the young man out of the tent. The sunlight had seemed unusually harsh and despite the noonday sun, Daniel felt no warmth. He realized the firefight had ended. No more explosions, weapons fire from either side... just that long, terrible silence that followed death.
The SGC side of the battle had been lucky. Considering the insurmountable odds, only two soldiers had died. Six Abydonians, seven, if Sha're was counted, had perished. Daniel felt numb and didn't care that his friends steered him toward a small hill and set him down. Jack had quickly commandeered one of the medics who'd come through the gate to treat the wounded. His words were still clear in Daniel's mind, because they were so Jack O'Neill… to make sure that that 'damn Gou'ald brain-frying thing' hadn't hurt Daniel.
Daniel was sure it hadn't. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd been subject to its cruel powers. What piece of Gou'ald technology hadn't inflicted its injurious elements on him? Ribbon devices, Jaffa staff weapons, grenades, the sarcarphagus. And those damned Zat guns. God, they hurt like hell, like having your nervous system ripped out and then seared with a flamethrower. Yet it was temporary, just like all his other experiences, even his own deaths. Sha're's death was not. It was permanent, the staff weapon damage far too severe for even the Gou'ald symbiote to heal.
Why Sha're? Why not him?
Daniel buried his face in his hands, clinging desperately to his memories of Sha're. He felt a hand on his shoulder, thought he heard Sam's voice nearby, cracking with emotion as she offered her sorrowful condolences, but he wasn't sure. He was tired, so very tired.
The days had passed after that. The return to Earth, the debriefing he'd sat through with the rest of the team after Dr. Frasier had checked him over. He'd offered little input. Jack and the others had taken up the slack. His report remained on his computer screen, unfinished.
After the funeral, he'd remained on Abydos with Kasuf and the other Abydonians who had become his extended family. The two days he'd spent there were bittersweet. The sounds and smells of Abydos all conspired to bring the memories of Sha're back in startling clarity, from his first meeting to the end. Kasuf had weathered the death of his daughter. He was a strong man who, although he mourned the loss of his child, also celebrated her transition to the gods above, where she would be forever free of the demon that had possessed her.
Daniel would always be welcome on Abydos, for he was Kasuf's link to his lost daughter, and to Daniel, Kasuf was his link to Sha're. The elder man had always treated him kindly, and in a way, had been a surrogate father. No matter where he ended up in the future, Daniel would never forget his ties to the desert world.
He'd returned to the SGC. There was no pomp or circumstance, just a simple step through the circular gate into the large gray embarkation room that was more familiar to him than his own apartment. He was greeted with a hearty welcome back from General Hammond, who'd been in the observation deck at the time. Jack and the others shown up shortly thereafter, still walking on eggshells around him.
Sam had smiled hesitantly, the strain of the past few days evident in her face. She might have been career military, but when a friend was in pain, she took on that pain as well.
Teal'c remained stoic, but that was his nature and inside, Daniel knew the Jaffa anguished over what he had had to do. But there was nothing else he could have done.
And Jack – the older man had grinned like a Cheshire cat, given him a slap on the arm, but his eyes remained guarded, perhaps wondering if Daniel was back for good. Sha're had been his reason to join the project and it hadn't been a secret.
Daniel assured his friends he wasn't some fragile piece of pottery unearthed at a dig and that he wouldn't crack. They could stop skulking in the shadows of every corridor, making sure he was okay.
At his own request, he'd thrown himself back into his work that very day, isolating himself in his dimly lit lab, researching Kheb, the mythical lair where the harsees'sis, Amaunet's and Apophis' child, remained hidden away from the Gou'ald lords who would destroy the child with malice and without hesitation. He'd promised Sha're that he'd find the boy. He was both frightened and excited that the child held such a vast reservoir of Gou'ald knowledge. Perhaps Sha're knew what that information would mean in the fight against the parasitic race and…
Daniel throat tightened. The child was also part of Sha're. She'd spent nine months free of Amaunet's evil grip as life grew inside her. He remembered her fear over the unborn baby's safety. Her baby.
Daniel blinked as the words and images on the computer monitor before him blurred into streaks of blue and white.
Her baby… a part of Sha're would live on in the child.
Stinging tears trickled down his cheek. He removed his glasses and wiped a hand across his eyes in a futile gesture. The world in front of him blurred even more as a sob escaped his trembling lips. The grief he'd refused to let out finally broke free. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and cried. The emptiness in his soul from Sha're's loss was unimaginable, and more painful than any torture the Gou'ald could ever inflict. He would give anything if he could hold her just one last time…
And then someone was there beside him, letting him cry into a shoulder. Strong arms gently held him and he'd heard Jack quietly say, "You're not alone, Daniel."
No more words were spoken. Just Jack's presence helped assuage his pain to a bearable level.
Several hours later he'd gone to General Hammond's office and requested some personal time off. The General hadn't questioned why – which made sense. Daniel's eyes were probably redder than any allergy attack he'd ever experienced. Hammond only asked that Daniel check in at the end of the week, just to let them know how he was doing. Daniel had nodded in thanks and left, part of his mind flashing back to his other encounter with the General, who'd thought Daniel's decision to resign was 'rash.'
Did Daniel truly see Hammond in that vein? No. He knew that Hammond made what sometimes seemed to be cold-hearted decisions, like the time he called off the search when Jack and Sam were lost, but he was also in the unenviable position of having to sacrifice the few to save the many. And that each decision like that hurt him just as much as any real injury.
Daniel had gone straight home, but not to run off to 'the most remote dig' he could find, as he'd told Jack when the ribbon device had been searing into his skull. He needed to distance himself from all the well-meaning looks, the sideway glances as friends and co-workers wondered how he was dealing with Sha're's death. Everything at the base reminded him of Sha're. He just wanted some time alone.
Home felt strange and empty. It was incredibly quiet except for the barely perceptible gurgle of the fish tank's air regulator. He wandered over to the large tank where assorted, brightly colored fish swam lazily around the fronds of plastic plants. He dumped some fish food into the water and peered down. The fish reacted like miniature piranha, eagerly attacking the tiny flakes of food in a small feeding frenzy.
"Guess I forgot about you guys." Daniel ran a finger along the inside of the tank. "Ugh, slime."
The next several hours were spent cleaning the fish tank, followed by the kitchen, then the rest of the apartment. In an almost obsessive mania, he mopped, dusted, vacuumed – and sneezed. He never knew so much dust could accumulate, or maybe he'd just kept pushing the task aside, placing artifacts atop books that went atop old papers that went on top of old napkins and crumbs. In the end, exhausted, he'd crawled into bed and let sleep take him.
Mid-afternoon light had streamed in through the bedroom windows, and that's what his bleary eyes had opened to some twelve hours later. The sleep had been deep, something he'd desperately needed, and unlike his dreams on Abydos from days before, he hadn't awoken with a shocking start, the cold talons of a nightmare reluctantly releasing their grip.
Sha're had been in his dreams, smiling and laughing. He'd dreamt of more joyful times. She'd been so real… the softness of her hair, the touch of her lips. Some of the memories evaporated like sparse clouds on a windy day, but their residue of hope remained.
He got up, showered and ate, then went to the park for a walk just as the sun was setting. He wasn't ready to run into people who wanted to talk. It suddenly struck him that no one on Earth knew of his marriage to Sha're. Only his friends at the SGC knew of that part of his life. A pang of guilt ran through him as he realized he'd just left the complex, and hadn't said a word to Jack, Sam or Teal'c. Was he distancing himself from his friends because they were tangible reminders of his loss?
He'd gone home, again facing an empty apartment. He fed the fish, wondering where the tiny blue one had gone to, and was the larger silver one now fatter?
The rooms looked so orderly it was unnerving. The rows of books on the shelves beckoned. Reference books for everything, from ancient languages to history books he'd unearthed at library book sales, were packed in tightly, some shoved atop others. He found himself drawn to the series of journals he kept of each Stargate mission. He'd need new shelves soon if he kept writing the way he did.
A part of his mind, at times overburdened with military regulations and procedures, had been surprised the books been returned to him after his house had been packed away when they'd thought he'd died on Oannes. Jack had raised an eyebrow, then sarcastically drawled that the journals probably read like bad science fiction and who in their right mind would believe any of it anyway? Daniel had been insulted, at first because they'd confessed to actually reading some of the pages, and then at the 'bad' fiction remark, but then realized Jack was right. No one would believe tales of traveling to other worlds through a round gate. He'd been a bit steamed about the 'bad writing' remark, though… but then he had written them to be read by someone, but preferably in the far future.
Daniel reached out, tentatively, and his fingers gently pulled the first book from the shelf. Abydos.
He grabbed a cup of hot coffee and settled down on the couch. The pages of the book clung together, parting only with a tug at the corner. He'd packed them tightly on to the shelf and had kept adding to the collection. He skimmed the journal briefly, smiling when he read his own words about his dire situation of being stranded in another part of the galaxy. He'd been worried about a paycheck! Money had never been one of his pursuits in life. If it had been, he surely wouldn't have followed in his parents' footsteps of exploring ancient cultures.
He'd been literally out on the streets, soaking wet from the rain, when Catherine had approached him with an offer. His belongings were in a suitcase, his career in shreds after a disastrous presentation at a professional conference. The Stargate project had given him a chance to prove his theories correct, and to get a check to pay the rent.
Colonel Jack O'Neill hadn't impressed him at all on their first meeting. Military through and through, his disdain for civilians and scientists was worn as clearly as a badge on his crisp uniform. Daniel had gone through the gate with O'Neill and his men, to discover another world and civilization he would have never dreamed possible.
The gate was both a curse and a blessing. A Pandora's box – once opened, it could never be closed. It had brought him Sha're, and taken her away as well.
His emotions peaked and waned as the hours passed by. His mind journeyed back through past memories, the good and the bad, as each page turned. He hadn't realized until now that as his writings progressed over the years, Sha're was featured less prominently – not because he loved her any less, but because his pursuit of knowledge, and his friends, occupied much of his life now.
Hours passed, stretching into the next day. He found himself waking up at odd points, a journal laid against his chest as he'd fallen asleep while reading it. A cold cup of coffee was perilously close to the edge of the low wooden table by the couch. On top of that table were stacks of journals that resembled tiny tilting towers. Torn shreds of papers stuck out of some books where Daniel had begun marking notes on information that had seemed of little consequence at the time but might be handy in the future.
Daniel looked at the clock on the mantel. It was nearly seven. He'd spent more than the whole day reading, reflecting on the observations of the team who had once been strangers but were now the closest friends he had.
The last journal remained in his hand. It had taken him hours to make the entry... to detail his last moments with Sha're. Although he'd been releasing his thoughts and emotions on paper for years, this time it was particularly difficult because of the finality of his wife's fate. It had been cathartic, though, which was perhaps why he'd taken to writing journals in the first place. The last couple of days had helped him put his life in perspective and realize that although he had lost a great deal, he still had many wonderful things to hold onto, and most importantly, he had his friends.
He glanced at the phone, half-covered by an old spiral notebook. Hadn't he promised to call General Hammond at the end of the week, which was sort of … now? He tossed the plaid blanket off his khaki-clad legs and dragged the phone over. It didn't take long to connect to Cheyenne Mountain.
"Uh, hi, could I speak to General Hammond? It's Dr. Jackson calling."
A cut and dry military voice informed him that Hammond was tied up in a meeting. Was this urgent?
"Um, no, just tell him I'll be back tomorrow. Is Colonel O'Neill in?"
He was put on hold. Should he mention they could benefit from some bland elevator music, instead of a dry hiss where you really didn't know if you were still connected or not? A sharp click echoed and the voice informed him that Jack was currently unavailable. He received a similar response when asking for Sam and Teal'c. He thanked the guard for his time and hung up.
It hadn't been a secure line so 'currently unavailable' probably meant they were off-world on a mission. Daniel sighed. Hammond wouldn't sideline the entire team just because one member wasn't up to snuff. How many times had he gone off with another team while Jack was laid up with an injury? He hadn't bothered to call, and he knew he'd given Hammond the distinct impression he'd wanted to be alone.
Which wasn't what he wanted anymore.
He thought about heading up to Cheyenne Mountain that night, but he'd just arrive late and everybody would be tired from the day's work. He could get back to researching Kheb tomorrow. Maybe Jack would be back from his mission by then and they could talk.
His stomach grumbled, letting him know that no decent food had reached its depths since breakfast. A quick survey of the refrigerator was disappointing. He'd done a lot of trashing of food in his clean-up frenzy. He never knew how long he'd be gone when on a mission. Food had a tendency to go bad when left for too long, growing fuzzy little gray beards and white spots. Even a few of the frozen dinners had gone far past their expiration date.
He was reduced to cheese, saltines and a bottle of Pepsi. Soda didn't expire, did it?
Someone knocked on the door.
Daniel tilted his head and shut the refrigerator door, wondering if he'd heard right. Another loud rap, followed by a more impatient knocking. Who would be on his doorstep at this hour?
As he approached the door, a feeling of comfort enveloped him when he heard voices drift through the wood.
"It's an abomination," insisted Jack O'Neill.
"I bet you've never even tried it," argued Carter. "I'm sure even Teal'c has tried it."
"I have not, but I am willing," intoned the Jaffa's deep voice.
"It's unnatural. End of discussion," ordered Jack.
Daniel swung open the door. All of SG-1 stood clad casually in civilian attire, stood outside. Jack's dour expression vanished instantly, replaced by a heartfelt grin that brought a twinkle to his eyes. He waved his arm broadly at the archeologist. "See, he hasn't run off! Sam was betting you'd joined the Hare Krishna or something."
The blonde major, clad in denim jacket and jeans, made a noise of polite disgust.
That bit of sarcastic brevity was Jack's way of confirming that his friend was indeed all right, not some basketcase hiding in a dark closet. He'd been privy to seeing Daniel at his lowest moments, from the awful sarcophagus addiction and commitment to a mental hospital, to his grieving over his wife's death. He'd probably envisioned a million different scenarios for when Daniel answered the door, but apparently the current one made him happy.
Daniel found his voice. "I thought you guys were on a mission."
"Says who?" quipped Jack. "Can we come in or are we eating on the doorstep?"
"Huh?" Daniel's eyes focused on what his stomach had been yelling at him to notice – the wafting aromas from the four large boxes in Sam's arms. "Food."
"And they'll be artifacts if we don't get to it soon." Jack gently prodded Sam forward and Daniel quickly relieved her of her hot burden. Jack and Teal'c, both carrying six-packs of beer, brought up the rear.
"Sorry about the mess," said Daniel. He quickly cleared the journals off the table, placing them in stacks in front of the bookshelves.
"A little light reading?" Jack studied the apartment with an appraising eye. Daniel knew not much escaped Jack's razor-sharp mind, so the soldier didn't really have to ask what he'd been doing on the days he'd sequestered himself at home.
The pizzas were laid out on the table and at least one chilled six-pack placed beside them. Everybody grabbed a spot on the floor, as any chairs in the apartment were too low for the table.
Jack lifted a box lid and grimaced. He'd made a lesser face of disgust at the sight of a large alien slug leaving a slime trail across his boots on PL8 3G5. "This one's yours." He hurriedly shoved the box toward Daniel. The scientist arched an eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what hideous content lay beneath the cardboard cover.
"Hey, thanks!"
Jack snagged a large slice of pepperoni pizza, steering that particular box into an almost covetous manner toward his corner of the table. "Pineapple on pizza is disgusting," he muttered through a mouth full of food.
Sam shook her head in exasperation and helped herself to some mushroom pizza. Teal'c studied the square boxes briefly, deciding finally to sample a slice of the much-maligned pineapple topped pizza. Jack stopped munching for a moment, watching the Jaffa with the same keen interest he exhibited toward an approaching group of armed aliens.
"It is … interesting."
Jack jabbed his finger at Daniel. "Ha! See! Interesting! People only say 'interesting' when they can't think of how to say how horrible it is."
Daniel frowned in puzzlement. "Then why is Teal'c going for a second piece?"
The Jaffa nodded. "A most unusual taste combination. It is hardly an 'abomination.'" The large man cocked an eyebrow slowly toward Jack, who'd just tossed his leather jacket on a chair behind him.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Just what we need. A Jaffa Martha Stewart."
A curious smile crossed Teal'c's broad face. Daniel realized that the Jaffa knew who Martha Stewart was. On occasion, he did watch television, observing different cultures, and had sat through one episode and then proclaimed that humans were extravagant and strange if they could devote such vast amounts of time to folding napkins for meals.
The light banter continued and more slices were devoured. Daniel hadn't wanted to admit it, but he was famished. He'd eaten this and that out of his fridge, but nothing had constituted a true meal. Normally pizza was something just grabbed on the fly, but now it reminded him more of the long meals on Abydos, where it wasn't just a situation to refuel the body, but a time to bond with friends and families, as it had been in the olden days on earth before microwave and single-serving meals.
"You know, you said you'd call Hammond today," said Jack.
Daniel looked up from his crust. "I tried, but he was in a meeting."
"Not all day." Jack glared at the remaining pineapple slices, then quickly snatched the last slice of mushroom before Sam realized what happened.
"I got preoccupied," admitted Daniel.
"Yeah, you scientists types are sort of forgetful." Jack studied some of the mushrooms on his slice as though he'd never seen them before. He plucked one off and ate it. "Hammond's got a mission for us in a couple days, some little rinky-dinky planet the geologists think will be a treasure-trove of … something."
"Rocks," supplied Teal'c.
"Well, actually they're minerals," corrected Sam. She practically rolled her eyes at Jack, the obvious instigator responsible for breaking down a potential scientific discovery to its most base components.
While Sam insisted on eagerly elaborating to Teal'c just what the geologists were looking for, Daniel caught Jack quietly watching him, as if to mutely ask 'Are you coming with us?'
The older man across the table perhaps knew Daniel better than anyone else. He hadn't pressed and asked why Daniel had left the complex without saying a word to the team. He'd sat in Daniel's dimly lit lab and offered solace where Daniel had thought none could ever exist. Jack understood Daniel's loss all too keenly, having experienced the same horrendous loss of a loved one when his son Charlie had died.
Jack also had an uncanny way of knowing when to knock someone down and sit on them and make them face reality, and when to back away and let that person work out their problems by themselves. Daniel was grateful Jack had made the latter choice, but knew that it must have been painful for Jack to wait for the process to unfold.
Daniel stared at the pile of journals just past his friend. On top of the stack was the last one, the final words in it just hours old.
He knew without a doubt he'd continue traveling through the Stargate. The positives far outweighed the negatives, and most importantly, he'd be with those people who meant the most to him.
"Rocks," concluded Teal'c solemnly.
"Well, yes..." Sam sounded very disappointed the Jaffa had unfortunately picked up some of Jack's bad habits and pigeon-holed science at such a basic level. "Pass the pepperoni pizza, if you don't mind, Colonel."
Jack handed the entire box over to the woman, then studied Daniel from across the table. "You okay?"
A tiny smile played on Daniel's lips. "Yes." With help from his friends, he knew he would be.
© October 1999 by Elyse Dickenson. The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. 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.