This one is for
tejas, who asked for Daniel and Jack, the first night home after Sha're's funeral. A bit depressing, I'm afraid. Also, possibly a little melodramatic. Word count: ~550
I should mention that I haven't committed to going in order of request - it's just worked out that way, with these first two ficlets. Also, please remember that I've only said I'll write at least 100 words. These first two turned out longer, yes, but no promises! :)
Toos
It was too much. Too many... toos.
Too cold. He missed the comforting heat of Abydos, the warmth of the sun and sand and people. Instead there was cold, outside and inside - the freezing rain that rattled the windows, the echoing chasm of loss. The roaring fire in Jack’s living room couldn’t warm that pervasive, deadening chill.
Too quiet. Eight days of mourning on Abydos, and he’d never actually been alone in all that time. Now he huddled in isolation, and the distant sound of traffic and the other city noises only highlighted his own silence. His own heartbeat was too loud in his ears, his ragged breath an underscore to the threnody that sang in his blood.
Too adrift. On Abydos, he’d had focus - the wrapping of... her body, the ceremony, the little feather that drifted, soft as eiderdown, to touch lightly on the greened bronze of the scale. The formality of the days of mourning, with the comfort of ritual and measured gesture to keep him grounded. Here, he had only Janet’s cruelly kind enforcement of bereavement leave, which left him with nothing but empty hours of stagnant thought.
Too solitary. With Kasuf and Nau’wi and Ahrim and the others, he’d celebrated Sha’re’s fierce spirit with laughter and tears. They’d known her: the woman who inspired children to take up arms for their right to their own legacy, the humor and warmth of the proud, amused bride with her other-worldly husband. Here on Earth, no one knew her as anything but victim and quest object. They mourned his loss, but they didn’t grieve for her - Sha’re’s fire, her intensity, her love and her strength and her courage.
Too bereft. Everything tangible was elsewhere: her grave. Her father, her cousins, her still-missing brother. The little trinkets they’d owned, the home they’d shared together. He cringed, thinking with loathing of the double bed he’d installed in his apartment in anticipation of the day he and Sha’re would be united again. Now, he was afraid to sleep at all, dreading where his dreams might lead.
Too alone. Kasuf had listened quietly, and accepted. His teammates, on the other hand... Ribbon-induced hallucinations and near-death experiences, they said. A mind desperate for new purpose, their eyes added with patronizing sympathy. No starting point, no encouragement, no support for what they rejected and dismissed. He was left with nothing.
All those toos folded inwards on themselves, muffling his surroundings to a distant, empty roar. He was smothering under their weight, he couldn’t -
“Hey.”
Daniel blinked.
Human touch: the weight and warmth of the hand on his shoulder, the casual bump of elbows as Jack sprawled comfortably on the couch next to him. A stillness that was no longer echoing and oppressive, but a calm, companiable silence. A bottle pressed into his hands, wet with beaded condensation: a physical totem of friendship. And this was Jack - Jack, who had first stepped onto Abydos with him, and who also remembered the determination of the woman who had orchestrated their rescue and fought against Ra by their side.
Jack, who knew loss and loneliness... and was still here.
“Hey,” Jack said again, without pressure, and Daniel felt his tense muscles ease, just a little.
Oh.
Once upon a time, he’d helped Jack find his way out of the toos.
Maybe Jack could do the same for him.