Teetering on the Edge (The Intricately Rearranged Remix) [Stargate SG-1; Daniel, Jack, Sam, Teal'c]
Title: Teetering on the Edge (The Intricately Rearranged Remix)
Author: Karen T (poohmusings)
Summary: How hard can it be to reunite the man he is now with the man he was then?
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Spoilers: Everything through "Fallen" (ep 7.01).
Original Story: "The Edge of the World" by katie_m (will need to scroll about halfway down page to find correct drabble)
Notes: Thanks so, so much to my inimitable betas. The remix subtitle is from Silversun Pickups.
There is a box. One box that contains all his possessions from a life he can't remember living. All the possessions, that is, that remain after the military confiscated everything that was classified and donated most of what wasn't. So, there is a box.
And in that box is a tape. A nondescript, non-threatening videotape with the words 'Daniel Jackson' scrawled on the label in an unfamiliar handwriting. (Although, to be fair, everyone's handwriting is unfamiliar to him these days, even his own.)
Resting the tape in the palm of his hand, Daniel assesses its weight and wonders about the footage it contains. What will he find when he plays it? A video diary of some of his more notable offworld archaeological finds? An inconsequential recording of something someone erroneously believed was more important than it actually is? The secrets to everything he can't remember but wishes (as well as fears) he could?
He tries not to think too much about that last possibility as he slides the tape into the VCR conveniently waiting for him beside his desk, turns on the attached TV, and presses 'Play'. At first only black and white static fills the screen, but the recording soon kicks in and Daniel sees himself.
Except it isn't him.
And yet it is.
Daniel leans closer to the TV screen, the image's enlarged pixels distorting what he can see, but he doesn't look away or pull back. He's wearing a hospital gown. He's sitting on a hospital bed. He's dying.
Daniel's sure of this even though his memory of the event doesn't return, regardless of the visual reminders. The silent footage of what he believes must be from a security camera rolls on, and Daniel sees himself saying something to someone just out of the camera's view. He strains to hear the words he knows have been lost, except, perhaps, by the one -- or ones -- who originally heard them.
The him on the TV screen smiles through a grimace and then the static returns, bouncing, dancing, an inadequate reflection of how he feels. For he feels nothing.
Other than a natural curiosity for what he must have been feeling and thinking as he sat in that hospital gown on that hospital bed, dying, Daniel feels somewhat detached from the proceedings. He wants to know everything that went through his mind as he prepared to die. If he could, he'd gladly reach into the TV and transport himself back to that moment, back into his original body -- even if it meant dying all over again.
But he knows he can't do any of that, so Daniel waits.
He presses the 'Rewind' button and waits. He rolls a chair in front of the TV and waits. He watches the six minute and thirty-eight second footage of silence and waits.
Surely he'll remember something soon, he assures himself. How hard can it be to reunite the man he is now with the man he was then?
More than two hours later, he's still waiting, and watching, when Jack barges into his office.
"Hey, Daniel, I know you probably don't remember, but this is usually the time of day when all that caffeine you're always mainlining starts to wear off and you come looking for-- What are you watching?"
"Hmm?" Daniel reluctantly looks away from the TV and stares, with unfocused eyes, at Jack's somewhat horrified face. "Oh, a tape I found. Of me. Dying."
"What? Why are-- How did--"
"Hey, you were there, weren't you?" Shifting forward in his chair, Daniel adjusts the position of his glasses and eagerly waits for Jack's response. "What was it like at the end? Did I say anything really profound? Was I sad about dying? Mad?"
"God, Daniel, I--" Jack ducks his head and takes a step backwards, his hands fluttering in front of his chest as if he's trying to swat away Daniel's barrage of questions. "I don't know. It was-- So much was happening and-- You were in pain, Daniel. You-- When the time came, you were ready to go. You wanted to go."
Daniel tips his head to the side and considers this new information for a second before nonchalantly saying, "Okay."
Jack's brows furrow and he appears ready to say something, but instead shakes his head and turns to leave. "I've gotta-- I'll talk you later, Daniel."
"Sure. Bye."
Daniel doesn't even wait for Jack to be out of view before he swivels his chair back around and unfreezes the TV screen.
"I wanted to go," he says to himself in a reverent whisper, his eyes zeroing in on the serene face of his former self.
*
"He found the tape."
Jack finds a perverse sort of pleasure in the way his abrupt declaration makes Carter jump in her seat from behind her computer.
She looks up, her eyebrows raised, and asks, "Tape?"
"Yeah. The security tape of Daniel's dea-- ascension," he says, his words clipped with annoyance and barely restrained anger. "I wanted to destroy it and you said we couldn't. Well, now he's found it, and he's watching it, and he's asking questions."
Never breaking eye contact, Carter calmly says, "Just to be clear, we're talking about the security tape that doesn't belong to you and would have led to your dishonorable discharge if you'd destroyed it, right? That tape, sir?"
Her logic returns him to reality -- as it often does -- and forces him to sigh, his shoulders slumping as the air exits his lungs. "He found the tape," he says, his tone weary. "I walked into his office, planning to drag him out of the mountain, and there he was: watching himself die."
"He didn't exactly die, sir."
"Yes, well, that's a really not helpful technicality right now, Carter," he snaps.
"Sorry, sir. You were saying?"
"I ..." Jack closes his eyes and immediately sees Daniel, his skin ashen, blood oozing through various raw patches of skin as his body slowly dies. Jack can't suppress the shudder that rocks his body. "When he saw me, he started asking questions. Did I remember what he felt at the time? Did he have any last words of wisdom? Did he-- It's just not ... normal to watch yourself die, right? And to ask questions, like you're something cool we found offworld?"
"I don't know." Carter's words are so soft that they compel Jack to look up and see her staring off into the distance, her expression melancholic. "We might think it's weird, but Daniel hasn't spent the past year trying to forget, like some of us have."
Jack nods, all too cognizant of the averted gazes, strained silences, and ignored outbursts that marked the months following Daniel's 'death'.
There was a lot they'd worked hard on forgetting.
"I think we just need to give him time," Carter says, yanking him out of his reverie. "I'm sure all of this is kind of overwhelming to him."
"Yeah, you're right." He nods and tries to lighten the mood by offering her a small smile. He doesn't completely succeed with either endeavor. "He'll be back to his old self soon enough."
"I'm sure he will. And then you'll be wondering why you ever wanted him to be."
This time Jack manages to don a full smile and accompanies it with a chuckle. "Thanks, Carter. Sorry about all that ... stuff before."
"Don't worry about it, sir."
He turns to leave and has almost escaped from Carter's lab without any further incidents when he hears her say, very, very quietly, "It's not your fault what happened to Daniel on Kelowna. You need to stop blaming yourself."
With one foot already out in the corridor and the other foot still in her lab, Jack freezes. He can feel Carter's eyes boring holes in his back, and is tempted to turn -- has a feeling it would be the best thing for his mental health -- but he doesn't. Instead, he propels himself forwards and hurries away. To anywhere except where he'd been before.
He's not ready to stop trying to forget.
*
She's been avoiding Daniel.
It began innocently enough. She was busy. He was busy. She figured it'd probably be best to give him some space. No need to crowd him while he's still getting used to being back on Earth, right?
But the truth is that she was -- and still is -- scared. She'd list off each of her exact fears and how they relate to Daniel's return, but she can't. No, her fear is more of a generalized feeling, a nagging worry she can't shake. So she avoids him.
She's been careful not to be too blatant about it because the last thing she (or Daniel) needs is for some godforsaken rumor to start spreading through the SGC, as they're wont to do. But she can't lie to herself anymore about what she's been doing, so Sam forces herself to walk to Daniel's office, where she finds him ... daydreaming.
She smiles when she realizes this, wistful and yet also relieved that despite everything, she can still tell when Daniel appears to be working but really isn't. She leans against the doorframe to his office, careful to keep her presence unknown.
It feels strange, but also not, to see him back where he belongs, amongst his worn books and crumbling artifacts; back from the dead (so to speak -- she's not going to quibble over the minutiae of where he's exactly been and what his body exactly became), daydreaming as if the past year never occurred. But it did and she does know exactly where he's been and exactly what his body became, and she's finding it very difficult to refrain from hugging the hell out of him.
So, of course, she knocks on his door instead.
He, of course, jumps and almost falls off his chair. Yes, this is all so familiar. But also not.
"Sam. Hi," he exhales after whipping his head in the direction of his doorway.
Her eyes watch as the fingers on his right hand unclench a videotape and color slowly returns to his knuckles. "Hey." She lifts her eyes and forces herself to grin from ear to ear. "Already back to pulling an all-nighter, I see." She prays her voice doesn't sound as shrill and artificial as it does in her head.
"Oh, well, I ..." He fidgets in his seat, runs a hand through his hair, reaches for the coffee mug off to his right, waves at the tablet halves lying on the table in front of him, and drums his fingers on his thigh, all seemingly at the same time despite how he only has two hands. "I thought I'd try doing a more thorough translation of the tablet you guys found on Abydos. Gotta find that lost city, right? Jonas gave me all his notes and all my notes, but ..." He shakes his head and sighs.
"No luck," she finishes, stating the obvious. She crosses the room towards him and pulls out a rolling stool from underneath his worktable. A skim of the items on top of the table tells her that, yes, his and Jonas' notes are right there. But she just knows Daniel hasn't glanced at them, never mind read them. "You'll figure it out," she says reassuringly while also flashing another bright smile in his direction.
He stares at her for a long second, his eyes suspicious, and her chest tightens in apprehension. She opens her mouth to say something -- her brain's working on the specifics -- but he breaks their staring contest to watch his right index finger run down the spine of the videotape.
"Could you stop doing that, please?" he mumbles down his shirtfront.
"Doing what?"
"Scanning my office to make sure I haven't completely lost it." He looks up in time to catch her in mid-wince. "Yes, I can tell that's what you're doing. I was ascended, Sam, not dead," he says, which causes her mouth to grow slack because those exact words have been echoing through her own mind for months now.
"And here I thought I was being impressively subtle." She shrugs and offers up an apologetic half-grimace-half-grin.
"I'm fine," he says, poking the tape twice to emphasize each word.
"Really?" She means for the question to come out much more innocuous than it does.
Daniel groans, sounding exactly as aggrieved as he used to when they'd be offworld and the colonel would pepper him with annoying questions just to get a rise out of him.
"I'm not trying to say you're not fine," she says, the words slow to form in her mind and even slower to leave her mouth. "Because you clearly are. Fine. It's just ..."
He stares at her with that expression of mixed horror and bemusement he usually saves for the colonel, and this causes her cheeks to burn. "I have no idea what I'm saying."
"No, you don't say."
This sarcastic comment is just so ... Daniel that Sam finds herself leaning towards him, eager to push aside the distance that's formed between them, even if it's all in her head. "Daniel, I--" That's when she sees him, in her peripheral vision, resume stroking the videotape. She pulls back. "That the tape?" She purposely doesn't elaborate on its contents.
"What?" He follows her gaze down to his right hand and immediately yanks it away, aghast. "Have I been touching that this whole time?"
She finds it difficult to swallow as she nods, her eyes still locked on the infamous tape. "Not the whole time, but ..."
Sighing, Daniel picks up the tape and holds it up for both of them to see. "Jack tell you what's on it?"
"He mentioned it once. In passing."
"Bull." He grins and Sam's so struck by how normal this feels that her breath catches in her throat. "I bet he went straight to you after he walked in on me watching it. I could tell it freaked him out."
"He's just ..." She works on a way to spin the truth, but then simply opts to spit it out, unembellished. "He doesn't understand why you'd want to watch it so much. It's a little morbid, Daniel. You have to admit that."
"Oh, it's a lot morbid, I know," he concedes, his expression chagrined. "But," he drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I can't help myself, Sam. I keep watching it, thinking that maybe this time I'll remember something, I'll feel something, I'll--"
"Do you?" she blurts out despite not entirely wanting to know.
"No." He shakes his head and allows the tape to fall onto the cluttered tabletop with a thunk. "It's like it's someone else. It might as well be."
"Maybe you just need to give it some more time," she says, cringing the moment the sentence leaves her mouth. How the hell did she become the person stuck spouting that truism?
If Daniel notices her cringe, he doesn't let on. Looking over her shoulder, he murmurs, "Jack says I wanted to go. I've been trying to figure out what that means. If I ... Did I abandon you guys, Sam?" He turns to look at her now, and the tears in his eyes alarm her.
Instinctually, she reaches out and grabs hold of his foreman, her grip firm. "Daniel, no, you ... you didn't abandon us. You were dying."
"But I gave up," he argues, his tone growing frantic. "To ascend, I had to let go. I had to willingly let go. And by doing that, I left you behind. You, and Jack, and Teal'c, and the other people here, and--"
"Daniel, stop." Digging her fingers into his arm, Sam gives him a strong shake. "Listen to me. You. Were. Dying. There wasn't anything you could do. There wasn't anything anyone could do. But then you were given the option to ascend and ... no one blames you for taking it. It was the right thing to do."
"I don’t know ..."
"Yes, you do." Her hand is still clutching his arm, so she gives it one last squeeze before releasing her hold. "You may not think so, but you do. And I'll keep reminding you until you believe it."
Daniel meets her gaze and narrows his eyes, almost as if he's testing her and wants to see if she'll break her promise by looking away. She doesn't.
"Like you don't already have enough on your plate," he eventually scoffs.
"I'll make room. It's what we've always done for each other, Daniel."
And as she tells him this, the desire to envelop him in a long hug again overwhelms her senses. And, once again, she checks herself.
She tells herself this is because Daniel might not be ready for such intimacy. While he remembers a nebulous her, he doesn't remember her or them, and she doesn't want to scare him with a sudden hug. But even as she repeatedly tells herself this, she knows that she's the one who isn't ready.
Who knew it'd be so hard to welcome back someone you spent more than a year wishing wasn't actually gone?
"You're not alone here, Daniel," she finally tells him as she rubs his shoulder. "Let your friends help."
Not knowing what else to say, Sam retreats from his office, but doesn't leave him alone. Instead, she stands just outside his doorway and watches -- a pseudo-guardian angel, if you will. And when she sees him nudge the videotape with a finger rather than slip it back into the VCR, she smiles.
It's only a small step, but she plans on being there for all his other steps as well. Even if he may never be aware of it.
*
Daniel Jackson is not the same.
Teal'c has known this from almost the first moment he laid eyes on him back on Vis Uban, but he did not feel it necessary to share this information with others. Unlike O'Neill or Major Carter, he never viewed Daniel Jackson's ascension as something to mourn. Repeatedly he overheard O'Neill refer to it as a 'death', and Major Carter would quickly correct him. But Teal'c could tell she did this to be accurate, not because it was what she truly believed.
He, however, understood the power bestowed upon those who accepted ascension. Even though Daniel Jackson no longer moved among them, Teal'c often felt his spirit, and knew this was not a figment of his imagination.
While Teal'c grew to become quite fond of Jonas Quinn, he'd always been vigilant to keep from him how he never stopped referring to Daniel Jackson's office as 'Daniel Jackson's office'. He'd tried to make the change, but his brain had refused, perhaps sensing, somehow, that Daniel Jackson would one day return.
There are simply certain warriors one cannot banish. Teal'c has no doubt Daniel Jackson is one such warrior.
But the Daniel Jackson who returned is a different warrior. He is now one with whom Teal'c may make amends.
With a three-by-five photograph clasped in his hand, Teal'c walks the short distance from his room to the one in which Daniel Jackson temporarily resides. His two knocks are sharp, somewhat jarring, and Daniel Jackson soon opens the door, his glasses askew and the image on his television frozen in place.
"Teal'c?" Daniel Jackson says with surprise. "Everything okay?"
Teal'c finds no need for pretense. "I killed your wife." Extending his hand, he presents the photograph. It is one of Daniel Jackson with his wife, taken on Abydos, their smiles joyous and unfettered.
"I ..." Daniel Jackson accepts the proffered photograph and stares at it, his mouth falling open.
"You loved her very deeply," Teal'c informs him. "Even after she was taken by Apophis and made a Goa'uld, you never ceased loving her."
"Okay." Daniel Jackson says the word with much caution and slowly raises his eyes to meet Teal'c's.
"Your love for her is something to honor. If you remember nothing else, Daniel Jackson, you should remember that."
"Uh. Thanks. I think."
"When your memories return, you will remember that I never apologized for my role in your wife's death. While I was sorry for how her death affected you, I was not sorry she died by my hand."
Daniel Jackson's sharp intake of air comes as no surprise to Teal'c, so he ignores it and presses on.
"I realize now how wrong that was of me. Your wife may have been a threat to those I love and have vowed to protect, but I should not have taken any pleasure in her death. For that, Daniel Jackson, I am deeply sorry."
Teal'c waits a moment with his head bowed in reverence and contrition before dismissing himself.
"Wait! Teal'c. Why-- Why are you telling me this?"
With his back to Daniel Jackson, Teal'c ponders this for a second before turning around and saying, "It is time. Before, you would not have understood. I believe you do now."
And with that, Teal'c takes his leave, allowing Daniel Jackson to be with his wife, unhindered by the nuisance of memory.
*
It's his first time out of the mountain by himself since his descension, and Daniel's spending it concealed in his rental car. Jack's house is three up from the one he's currently parked in front of, but he can't bring himself to leave the car's sanctuary.
Truth is, he doesn't entirely know why he left the mountain in the first place.
Jack's 'invitation' certainly wasn't very enticing: "Friday. Seven-thirty. My place. We're gonna watch some movies, eat some food, have a good time." "But--" "No buts. Teal'c and Carter'll be there. It'll be fun." "But--" "What?" "I don't know where you live." "Oh. I'll draw you a map." And his stomach almost instantly twisted in knots at the idea of spending an entire evening in a place he couldn't easily flee.
But Daniel managed to ignore his anxieties as Friday night arrived and he changed out of his BDUs, got into his car, and followed Jack's directions to his house. The minute he turned onto the correct block, however, he found himself almost paralyzed with fear, which prompted him to park several houses away from Jack's.
He could leave, he tells himself. He could tell Jack he got lost or found Jack's chicken scratch illegible. Or he could be honest and say he just wasn't ready for a team building night. Or he could--
Roll down his window because Sam's knocking on the glass.
"Hey," she says with a warm smile when his window's down. "Did you get the number wrong? Colonel O'Neill's house is up there."
"Oh, yeah, I know. I was just ..." The words 'psyching myself up' are too embarrassing to say, so he simply waves a hand.
Confusion and concern flit across Sam's face. "Sure," she says, despite not having any idea what she's agreeing to. "Of course. So ... you coming?"
And thus closes the door to any chance he had of ditching 'team' night.
"Yeah. Right." He quickly scrambles out of the car and sends a message to his stomach to stop with all the goddamn churning.
He falls into step beside Sam -- not realizing until later how easy and comfortable it feels to do so -- and jams his hands into the pockets of his jacket. This will be fun, he reminds himself. No stress involved. None at all.
"This'll be fun," Sam suddenly declares, as if reading his mind. She flashes him a quick smile when he glances at her, surprised.
"So, did we do this a lot?" he asks in attempt to calm his nerves. "Get together as a team after hours?"
"Um, not really. Colonel O'Neill's always wanted us to, but things kept getting in the way. And we tended to have more than our fair share of ... offworld incidents." Her expression becomes one of amused nostalgia as she laughs; Daniel thinks it's one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard. "So they never really happened. But that doesn't mean they can't start now, right?"
Sam's tone is so hopeful -- almost desperate -- that Daniel finds himself nodding before he's thoroughly processed her question. But then he does think about it and ... yes, why shouldn't they start now?
He still can't remember his past, and doesn't know if he ever will. But perhaps it doesn't matter.
And when Teal'c, in a garish, tie-dye T-shirt, greets him and Sam at Jack's door, and Jack yells at them to "get inside already and stop letting in the cold air," and Sam looks over her shoulder and motions, with a smile and tip of her head, for him to follow her, Daniel becomes convinced it really doesn't matter. Because a year old, six-minute thirty-eight second tape from some security camera can't -- and won't ever -- tell him about the friends he had then, has now, and will continue to have in the days to come.
end
Author: Karen T (poohmusings)
Summary: How hard can it be to reunite the man he is now with the man he was then?
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me.
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Spoilers: Everything through "Fallen" (ep 7.01).
Original Story: "The Edge of the World" by katie_m (will need to scroll about halfway down page to find correct drabble)
Notes: Thanks so, so much to my inimitable betas. The remix subtitle is from Silversun Pickups.
There is a box. One box that contains all his possessions from a life he can't remember living. All the possessions, that is, that remain after the military confiscated everything that was classified and donated most of what wasn't. So, there is a box.
And in that box is a tape. A nondescript, non-threatening videotape with the words 'Daniel Jackson' scrawled on the label in an unfamiliar handwriting. (Although, to be fair, everyone's handwriting is unfamiliar to him these days, even his own.)
Resting the tape in the palm of his hand, Daniel assesses its weight and wonders about the footage it contains. What will he find when he plays it? A video diary of some of his more notable offworld archaeological finds? An inconsequential recording of something someone erroneously believed was more important than it actually is? The secrets to everything he can't remember but wishes (as well as fears) he could?
He tries not to think too much about that last possibility as he slides the tape into the VCR conveniently waiting for him beside his desk, turns on the attached TV, and presses 'Play'. At first only black and white static fills the screen, but the recording soon kicks in and Daniel sees himself.
Except it isn't him.
And yet it is.
Daniel leans closer to the TV screen, the image's enlarged pixels distorting what he can see, but he doesn't look away or pull back. He's wearing a hospital gown. He's sitting on a hospital bed. He's dying.
Daniel's sure of this even though his memory of the event doesn't return, regardless of the visual reminders. The silent footage of what he believes must be from a security camera rolls on, and Daniel sees himself saying something to someone just out of the camera's view. He strains to hear the words he knows have been lost, except, perhaps, by the one -- or ones -- who originally heard them.
The him on the TV screen smiles through a grimace and then the static returns, bouncing, dancing, an inadequate reflection of how he feels. For he feels nothing.
Other than a natural curiosity for what he must have been feeling and thinking as he sat in that hospital gown on that hospital bed, dying, Daniel feels somewhat detached from the proceedings. He wants to know everything that went through his mind as he prepared to die. If he could, he'd gladly reach into the TV and transport himself back to that moment, back into his original body -- even if it meant dying all over again.
But he knows he can't do any of that, so Daniel waits.
He presses the 'Rewind' button and waits. He rolls a chair in front of the TV and waits. He watches the six minute and thirty-eight second footage of silence and waits.
Surely he'll remember something soon, he assures himself. How hard can it be to reunite the man he is now with the man he was then?
More than two hours later, he's still waiting, and watching, when Jack barges into his office.
"Hey, Daniel, I know you probably don't remember, but this is usually the time of day when all that caffeine you're always mainlining starts to wear off and you come looking for-- What are you watching?"
"Hmm?" Daniel reluctantly looks away from the TV and stares, with unfocused eyes, at Jack's somewhat horrified face. "Oh, a tape I found. Of me. Dying."
"What? Why are-- How did--"
"Hey, you were there, weren't you?" Shifting forward in his chair, Daniel adjusts the position of his glasses and eagerly waits for Jack's response. "What was it like at the end? Did I say anything really profound? Was I sad about dying? Mad?"
"God, Daniel, I--" Jack ducks his head and takes a step backwards, his hands fluttering in front of his chest as if he's trying to swat away Daniel's barrage of questions. "I don't know. It was-- So much was happening and-- You were in pain, Daniel. You-- When the time came, you were ready to go. You wanted to go."
Daniel tips his head to the side and considers this new information for a second before nonchalantly saying, "Okay."
Jack's brows furrow and he appears ready to say something, but instead shakes his head and turns to leave. "I've gotta-- I'll talk you later, Daniel."
"Sure. Bye."
Daniel doesn't even wait for Jack to be out of view before he swivels his chair back around and unfreezes the TV screen.
"I wanted to go," he says to himself in a reverent whisper, his eyes zeroing in on the serene face of his former self.
*
"He found the tape."
Jack finds a perverse sort of pleasure in the way his abrupt declaration makes Carter jump in her seat from behind her computer.
She looks up, her eyebrows raised, and asks, "Tape?"
"Yeah. The security tape of Daniel's dea-- ascension," he says, his words clipped with annoyance and barely restrained anger. "I wanted to destroy it and you said we couldn't. Well, now he's found it, and he's watching it, and he's asking questions."
Never breaking eye contact, Carter calmly says, "Just to be clear, we're talking about the security tape that doesn't belong to you and would have led to your dishonorable discharge if you'd destroyed it, right? That tape, sir?"
Her logic returns him to reality -- as it often does -- and forces him to sigh, his shoulders slumping as the air exits his lungs. "He found the tape," he says, his tone weary. "I walked into his office, planning to drag him out of the mountain, and there he was: watching himself die."
"He didn't exactly die, sir."
"Yes, well, that's a really not helpful technicality right now, Carter," he snaps.
"Sorry, sir. You were saying?"
"I ..." Jack closes his eyes and immediately sees Daniel, his skin ashen, blood oozing through various raw patches of skin as his body slowly dies. Jack can't suppress the shudder that rocks his body. "When he saw me, he started asking questions. Did I remember what he felt at the time? Did he have any last words of wisdom? Did he-- It's just not ... normal to watch yourself die, right? And to ask questions, like you're something cool we found offworld?"
"I don't know." Carter's words are so soft that they compel Jack to look up and see her staring off into the distance, her expression melancholic. "We might think it's weird, but Daniel hasn't spent the past year trying to forget, like some of us have."
Jack nods, all too cognizant of the averted gazes, strained silences, and ignored outbursts that marked the months following Daniel's 'death'.
There was a lot they'd worked hard on forgetting.
"I think we just need to give him time," Carter says, yanking him out of his reverie. "I'm sure all of this is kind of overwhelming to him."
"Yeah, you're right." He nods and tries to lighten the mood by offering her a small smile. He doesn't completely succeed with either endeavor. "He'll be back to his old self soon enough."
"I'm sure he will. And then you'll be wondering why you ever wanted him to be."
This time Jack manages to don a full smile and accompanies it with a chuckle. "Thanks, Carter. Sorry about all that ... stuff before."
"Don't worry about it, sir."
He turns to leave and has almost escaped from Carter's lab without any further incidents when he hears her say, very, very quietly, "It's not your fault what happened to Daniel on Kelowna. You need to stop blaming yourself."
With one foot already out in the corridor and the other foot still in her lab, Jack freezes. He can feel Carter's eyes boring holes in his back, and is tempted to turn -- has a feeling it would be the best thing for his mental health -- but he doesn't. Instead, he propels himself forwards and hurries away. To anywhere except where he'd been before.
He's not ready to stop trying to forget.
*
She's been avoiding Daniel.
It began innocently enough. She was busy. He was busy. She figured it'd probably be best to give him some space. No need to crowd him while he's still getting used to being back on Earth, right?
But the truth is that she was -- and still is -- scared. She'd list off each of her exact fears and how they relate to Daniel's return, but she can't. No, her fear is more of a generalized feeling, a nagging worry she can't shake. So she avoids him.
She's been careful not to be too blatant about it because the last thing she (or Daniel) needs is for some godforsaken rumor to start spreading through the SGC, as they're wont to do. But she can't lie to herself anymore about what she's been doing, so Sam forces herself to walk to Daniel's office, where she finds him ... daydreaming.
She smiles when she realizes this, wistful and yet also relieved that despite everything, she can still tell when Daniel appears to be working but really isn't. She leans against the doorframe to his office, careful to keep her presence unknown.
It feels strange, but also not, to see him back where he belongs, amongst his worn books and crumbling artifacts; back from the dead (so to speak -- she's not going to quibble over the minutiae of where he's exactly been and what his body exactly became), daydreaming as if the past year never occurred. But it did and she does know exactly where he's been and exactly what his body became, and she's finding it very difficult to refrain from hugging the hell out of him.
So, of course, she knocks on his door instead.
He, of course, jumps and almost falls off his chair. Yes, this is all so familiar. But also not.
"Sam. Hi," he exhales after whipping his head in the direction of his doorway.
Her eyes watch as the fingers on his right hand unclench a videotape and color slowly returns to his knuckles. "Hey." She lifts her eyes and forces herself to grin from ear to ear. "Already back to pulling an all-nighter, I see." She prays her voice doesn't sound as shrill and artificial as it does in her head.
"Oh, well, I ..." He fidgets in his seat, runs a hand through his hair, reaches for the coffee mug off to his right, waves at the tablet halves lying on the table in front of him, and drums his fingers on his thigh, all seemingly at the same time despite how he only has two hands. "I thought I'd try doing a more thorough translation of the tablet you guys found on Abydos. Gotta find that lost city, right? Jonas gave me all his notes and all my notes, but ..." He shakes his head and sighs.
"No luck," she finishes, stating the obvious. She crosses the room towards him and pulls out a rolling stool from underneath his worktable. A skim of the items on top of the table tells her that, yes, his and Jonas' notes are right there. But she just knows Daniel hasn't glanced at them, never mind read them. "You'll figure it out," she says reassuringly while also flashing another bright smile in his direction.
He stares at her for a long second, his eyes suspicious, and her chest tightens in apprehension. She opens her mouth to say something -- her brain's working on the specifics -- but he breaks their staring contest to watch his right index finger run down the spine of the videotape.
"Could you stop doing that, please?" he mumbles down his shirtfront.
"Doing what?"
"Scanning my office to make sure I haven't completely lost it." He looks up in time to catch her in mid-wince. "Yes, I can tell that's what you're doing. I was ascended, Sam, not dead," he says, which causes her mouth to grow slack because those exact words have been echoing through her own mind for months now.
"And here I thought I was being impressively subtle." She shrugs and offers up an apologetic half-grimace-half-grin.
"I'm fine," he says, poking the tape twice to emphasize each word.
"Really?" She means for the question to come out much more innocuous than it does.
Daniel groans, sounding exactly as aggrieved as he used to when they'd be offworld and the colonel would pepper him with annoying questions just to get a rise out of him.
"I'm not trying to say you're not fine," she says, the words slow to form in her mind and even slower to leave her mouth. "Because you clearly are. Fine. It's just ..."
He stares at her with that expression of mixed horror and bemusement he usually saves for the colonel, and this causes her cheeks to burn. "I have no idea what I'm saying."
"No, you don't say."
This sarcastic comment is just so ... Daniel that Sam finds herself leaning towards him, eager to push aside the distance that's formed between them, even if it's all in her head. "Daniel, I--" That's when she sees him, in her peripheral vision, resume stroking the videotape. She pulls back. "That the tape?" She purposely doesn't elaborate on its contents.
"What?" He follows her gaze down to his right hand and immediately yanks it away, aghast. "Have I been touching that this whole time?"
She finds it difficult to swallow as she nods, her eyes still locked on the infamous tape. "Not the whole time, but ..."
Sighing, Daniel picks up the tape and holds it up for both of them to see. "Jack tell you what's on it?"
"He mentioned it once. In passing."
"Bull." He grins and Sam's so struck by how normal this feels that her breath catches in her throat. "I bet he went straight to you after he walked in on me watching it. I could tell it freaked him out."
"He's just ..." She works on a way to spin the truth, but then simply opts to spit it out, unembellished. "He doesn't understand why you'd want to watch it so much. It's a little morbid, Daniel. You have to admit that."
"Oh, it's a lot morbid, I know," he concedes, his expression chagrined. "But," he drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I can't help myself, Sam. I keep watching it, thinking that maybe this time I'll remember something, I'll feel something, I'll--"
"Do you?" she blurts out despite not entirely wanting to know.
"No." He shakes his head and allows the tape to fall onto the cluttered tabletop with a thunk. "It's like it's someone else. It might as well be."
"Maybe you just need to give it some more time," she says, cringing the moment the sentence leaves her mouth. How the hell did she become the person stuck spouting that truism?
If Daniel notices her cringe, he doesn't let on. Looking over her shoulder, he murmurs, "Jack says I wanted to go. I've been trying to figure out what that means. If I ... Did I abandon you guys, Sam?" He turns to look at her now, and the tears in his eyes alarm her.
Instinctually, she reaches out and grabs hold of his foreman, her grip firm. "Daniel, no, you ... you didn't abandon us. You were dying."
"But I gave up," he argues, his tone growing frantic. "To ascend, I had to let go. I had to willingly let go. And by doing that, I left you behind. You, and Jack, and Teal'c, and the other people here, and--"
"Daniel, stop." Digging her fingers into his arm, Sam gives him a strong shake. "Listen to me. You. Were. Dying. There wasn't anything you could do. There wasn't anything anyone could do. But then you were given the option to ascend and ... no one blames you for taking it. It was the right thing to do."
"I don’t know ..."
"Yes, you do." Her hand is still clutching his arm, so she gives it one last squeeze before releasing her hold. "You may not think so, but you do. And I'll keep reminding you until you believe it."
Daniel meets her gaze and narrows his eyes, almost as if he's testing her and wants to see if she'll break her promise by looking away. She doesn't.
"Like you don't already have enough on your plate," he eventually scoffs.
"I'll make room. It's what we've always done for each other, Daniel."
And as she tells him this, the desire to envelop him in a long hug again overwhelms her senses. And, once again, she checks herself.
She tells herself this is because Daniel might not be ready for such intimacy. While he remembers a nebulous her, he doesn't remember her or them, and she doesn't want to scare him with a sudden hug. But even as she repeatedly tells herself this, she knows that she's the one who isn't ready.
Who knew it'd be so hard to welcome back someone you spent more than a year wishing wasn't actually gone?
"You're not alone here, Daniel," she finally tells him as she rubs his shoulder. "Let your friends help."
Not knowing what else to say, Sam retreats from his office, but doesn't leave him alone. Instead, she stands just outside his doorway and watches -- a pseudo-guardian angel, if you will. And when she sees him nudge the videotape with a finger rather than slip it back into the VCR, she smiles.
It's only a small step, but she plans on being there for all his other steps as well. Even if he may never be aware of it.
*
Daniel Jackson is not the same.
Teal'c has known this from almost the first moment he laid eyes on him back on Vis Uban, but he did not feel it necessary to share this information with others. Unlike O'Neill or Major Carter, he never viewed Daniel Jackson's ascension as something to mourn. Repeatedly he overheard O'Neill refer to it as a 'death', and Major Carter would quickly correct him. But Teal'c could tell she did this to be accurate, not because it was what she truly believed.
He, however, understood the power bestowed upon those who accepted ascension. Even though Daniel Jackson no longer moved among them, Teal'c often felt his spirit, and knew this was not a figment of his imagination.
While Teal'c grew to become quite fond of Jonas Quinn, he'd always been vigilant to keep from him how he never stopped referring to Daniel Jackson's office as 'Daniel Jackson's office'. He'd tried to make the change, but his brain had refused, perhaps sensing, somehow, that Daniel Jackson would one day return.
There are simply certain warriors one cannot banish. Teal'c has no doubt Daniel Jackson is one such warrior.
But the Daniel Jackson who returned is a different warrior. He is now one with whom Teal'c may make amends.
With a three-by-five photograph clasped in his hand, Teal'c walks the short distance from his room to the one in which Daniel Jackson temporarily resides. His two knocks are sharp, somewhat jarring, and Daniel Jackson soon opens the door, his glasses askew and the image on his television frozen in place.
"Teal'c?" Daniel Jackson says with surprise. "Everything okay?"
Teal'c finds no need for pretense. "I killed your wife." Extending his hand, he presents the photograph. It is one of Daniel Jackson with his wife, taken on Abydos, their smiles joyous and unfettered.
"I ..." Daniel Jackson accepts the proffered photograph and stares at it, his mouth falling open.
"You loved her very deeply," Teal'c informs him. "Even after she was taken by Apophis and made a Goa'uld, you never ceased loving her."
"Okay." Daniel Jackson says the word with much caution and slowly raises his eyes to meet Teal'c's.
"Your love for her is something to honor. If you remember nothing else, Daniel Jackson, you should remember that."
"Uh. Thanks. I think."
"When your memories return, you will remember that I never apologized for my role in your wife's death. While I was sorry for how her death affected you, I was not sorry she died by my hand."
Daniel Jackson's sharp intake of air comes as no surprise to Teal'c, so he ignores it and presses on.
"I realize now how wrong that was of me. Your wife may have been a threat to those I love and have vowed to protect, but I should not have taken any pleasure in her death. For that, Daniel Jackson, I am deeply sorry."
Teal'c waits a moment with his head bowed in reverence and contrition before dismissing himself.
"Wait! Teal'c. Why-- Why are you telling me this?"
With his back to Daniel Jackson, Teal'c ponders this for a second before turning around and saying, "It is time. Before, you would not have understood. I believe you do now."
And with that, Teal'c takes his leave, allowing Daniel Jackson to be with his wife, unhindered by the nuisance of memory.
*
It's his first time out of the mountain by himself since his descension, and Daniel's spending it concealed in his rental car. Jack's house is three up from the one he's currently parked in front of, but he can't bring himself to leave the car's sanctuary.
Truth is, he doesn't entirely know why he left the mountain in the first place.
Jack's 'invitation' certainly wasn't very enticing: "Friday. Seven-thirty. My place. We're gonna watch some movies, eat some food, have a good time." "But--" "No buts. Teal'c and Carter'll be there. It'll be fun." "But--" "What?" "I don't know where you live." "Oh. I'll draw you a map." And his stomach almost instantly twisted in knots at the idea of spending an entire evening in a place he couldn't easily flee.
But Daniel managed to ignore his anxieties as Friday night arrived and he changed out of his BDUs, got into his car, and followed Jack's directions to his house. The minute he turned onto the correct block, however, he found himself almost paralyzed with fear, which prompted him to park several houses away from Jack's.
He could leave, he tells himself. He could tell Jack he got lost or found Jack's chicken scratch illegible. Or he could be honest and say he just wasn't ready for a team building night. Or he could--
Roll down his window because Sam's knocking on the glass.
"Hey," she says with a warm smile when his window's down. "Did you get the number wrong? Colonel O'Neill's house is up there."
"Oh, yeah, I know. I was just ..." The words 'psyching myself up' are too embarrassing to say, so he simply waves a hand.
Confusion and concern flit across Sam's face. "Sure," she says, despite not having any idea what she's agreeing to. "Of course. So ... you coming?"
And thus closes the door to any chance he had of ditching 'team' night.
"Yeah. Right." He quickly scrambles out of the car and sends a message to his stomach to stop with all the goddamn churning.
He falls into step beside Sam -- not realizing until later how easy and comfortable it feels to do so -- and jams his hands into the pockets of his jacket. This will be fun, he reminds himself. No stress involved. None at all.
"This'll be fun," Sam suddenly declares, as if reading his mind. She flashes him a quick smile when he glances at her, surprised.
"So, did we do this a lot?" he asks in attempt to calm his nerves. "Get together as a team after hours?"
"Um, not really. Colonel O'Neill's always wanted us to, but things kept getting in the way. And we tended to have more than our fair share of ... offworld incidents." Her expression becomes one of amused nostalgia as she laughs; Daniel thinks it's one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard. "So they never really happened. But that doesn't mean they can't start now, right?"
Sam's tone is so hopeful -- almost desperate -- that Daniel finds himself nodding before he's thoroughly processed her question. But then he does think about it and ... yes, why shouldn't they start now?
He still can't remember his past, and doesn't know if he ever will. But perhaps it doesn't matter.
And when Teal'c, in a garish, tie-dye T-shirt, greets him and Sam at Jack's door, and Jack yells at them to "get inside already and stop letting in the cold air," and Sam looks over her shoulder and motions, with a smile and tip of her head, for him to follow her, Daniel becomes convinced it really doesn't matter. Because a year old, six-minute thirty-eight second tape from some security camera can't -- and won't ever -- tell him about the friends he had then, has now, and will continue to have in the days to come.
end