As My Tears Evaporate (G)
Title: As My Tears Evaporate
Author: dvshipper
Rating: G
Spoilers/Warnings: death fic, future fic, can be read as any pairing that includes Daniel (though originally written with Vala in mind.)
Summary: “Why do I have to keep going if you aren’t here?”
A/N: Thanks to
taraleesg1for putting up with this sad fic and beta’ing it. Any other errors are mine, cause I changed a couple things last minute. Don’t really know where this one came from but it just popped out. Keep in mind this is my first first person fic.
So, here I sit, grass indenting my shins and a white rose in my hand. There’s a light breeze, but it does nothing to calm the heat of summer. I know the sky is clear and the sun is shining but all I see is stone, stiff and harshly carved. Why is it so quiet? Why can’t a single bird just open its beak? The silence just reminds me of why I’m here and that reminder sends tears down my cheeks.
As I look at the engraving, I wonder why it just doesn’t seem right. All the details are correct but there’s just something missing. Then it dawns on me. It doesn’t say anything personal, just the stuff other people witnessed. I saw so much more, but there’s too much to put into stone. It’s more of an overall feeling than anything.
Before I can stop them, my lips open. “I miss you, a lot. Why did you have to go?” I pause, almost expecting an answer to my whispered question. “More than anything though, why couldn’t I have gone with you? I was standing right there, why not me too? I don’t want to do this anymore. The looks of pity, the whispers, the pain, the cold because you’re not next to me; it’s too much. Why do I have to keep going if you aren’t here?” The tears continue hot on my face, dropping to sprinkle the ground.
The breeze picks up into a warm wind as if it’s an answer. Trees rustle in the distance and the blades of grass dance. It’s at just the right angle and the gust feels like a caress on my cheek, drying my tears. A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. I lean into the caress and am surprised to find there’s almost a weight to it. My eyes close as I let out a small laugh, faint and weary. “You’re still here aren’t you?”
I set the rose on the top of the marker in front of me and take a deep breath. I know what happened and how, but somehow things are different. The heaviness that settled on my chest these last few months is gone, much to my relief. When I leave, I know that my sadness will stay evaporating on the grass. With this knowledge, I sit back on my heels and stand up in a single motion.
As I walk back to the SUV that’s waiting for me, I look back one last time. The grey headstone is still the same but I’m not. My hand goes to my hip of its own mind, just where he used to place his palm. There’s a warmth across my back and I notice it even with the sun blazing. Even though the inscription on the headstone reads: DANIEL JACKSON JULY 8, 1965-APRIL 13, 2009 HERO IN SPIRIT AND ACTION, I know that he’s still with me. He’ll always be with me, in some form; I don’t doubt that anymore.