Fic: E is for Eternal Writing Struggles - Stargate SG-1 - Epistolary Alphabet Soup
Written for Stargate SG-1 Alphabet Soup. You can find the other 25 stories here
Summary: Five times Daniel Jackson didn't finish his writing - and one time he did
Word count: 2246 words
Characters: Daniel Jackson and the rest of the gang + Sha're and Skaara
Era: Stargate (The Movie) - post-series
Categories: angst, drama, humor
Author's notes: I had so many ideas they didn't fit into a normal story. So I wrote a 5+1. Tissue warning!
Excerpt: “Daniel?” Jack tried again, an edge creeping into his tone.
Daniel finally stopped his manic typing and spared his team leader a short glance before turning back to his work. “What?!” he asked, impatient and not in the mood for one of Jack's lectures. Yes, he'd screwed up - again. He'd almost died - again. So what else was new?
“Daniel.” This time, it was a sigh.
E is for Eternal Writing Struggles
or
Five times Daniel Jackson didn't finish his writing - and one time he did
by immertreu
February 21 - 27, 2016
1. Stargate (The Movie) / Children of the Gods
“Dan'yel, what are you writing?” Sha're asked her husband. He was busy scribbling away on a clay tablet he'd made with his own hands, scratching as many markings into the still wet material before it dried up and turned too hard for his purpose.
His brow was furrowed, his eyes intent behind the glasses he needed to be able to read. The light from the flickering fire he was using as a light source gave him a mysterious look Sha're secretly cherished.
Daniel didn't react for a long moment while Sha're patiently looked on. When he finally gazed up, he smiled bashfully at his beautiful wife.
“Uh, what?” he asked, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and realizing that Sha're was still waiting for an answer. Work always had this effect on him that he forgot his time and place in the universe. Add to that the sight of his lovely, intelligent, courageous wife, and he even forgot how to speak or think.
Sha're laughed out loud at this. She'd long learned to accept and even love his eccentricities. It was what made life with him so much more interesting. Before she could repeat her question, though, her brother's voice interrupted.
“I think he is writing 'The Epistle of Dan'yel',” Skaara joked, remembering what Daniel had told them about the Bible and the various beliefs on Earth.
Daniel and Sha're snorted in unison, sharing an amused glance.
“Not quite,” Daniel finally said, switching to Abydonian so Skaara would have an easier time following his words. “I was only trying to record the events of last year, how we defeated Ra and his Jaffa, and reclaimed your freedom.”
Skaara perked up at that. “Are you finished?” he asked curiously.
Daniel sighed and shook his head. “No, I'm not. It is difficult to translate my ideas into written Abydonian. And it's slow work, so I have only reached the moment when Ra and his ship descended onto the pyramid.”
“Oh.” Skaara looked disappointed at this, but then he perked up. “Never mind that then,” he said with renewed enthusiasm. “You will soon have even more to write about.”
Daniel gazed at him sharply. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
“I came to tell you, we have finally dug out the Chappa'ai again.”
“So soon?!” Daniel jumped up and ran out of the room, leaving behind his amused wife, his bemused brother-in-law, and the clay tablet, forgotten by the fire until it crumbled into dust.
2. The Torment of Tantalus
“You're not gonna finish that essay, are you?”
Jack O'Neill had appeared in the doorway of Daniel's office with a scowl on his face and his arms securely crossed in front of his chest, ready for a fight. Funny, wasn't this usually Daniel's stance when things didn't go his way?
Not bothering to look up, SG-1's resident archaeologist and walking dictionary continued hacking notes and observations about their recent mission to PB2-908 and its consequences, the remnants of the mysterious races they had encountered, and Ernest Littlefield's experiences into his computer.
“Daniel?” Jack tried again, an edge creeping into his tone.
Daniel finally stopped his manic typing and spared his team leader a short glance before turning back to his work. “What?!” he asked, impatient and not in the mood for one of Jack's lectures. Yes, he'd screwed up - again. He'd almost died - again. So what else was new?
“Daniel.” This time, it was a sigh.
Jack uncrossed his arms and finally stepped into the cluttered room. He picked up a tiny statue of a goat - or was that a sheep? - that sat strategically placed within his reach on a nearby shelf, and started fiddling with it. “You do know that you'll never be able to publish, right?”
With a frustrated and angry huff, Daniel hit the enter key with more force than strictly necessary, saving his draft, and finally turned to look up at Jack with squinting eyes. Ouch, how long had he been down here? A glance at his watch made him wince. Far too long. Obviously. Or Jack wouldn't have come looking for him.
Rubbing a hand across his tired face, Daniel got up to pour himself another mug of coffee from the pot by the door - only to find it empty. “Great,” he muttered, putting down the cup and turning back to Jack, knowing there was no way he could avoid the confrontation now.
Instead of the expected argument, he got a surprise.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder and started to steer him out the door. “Come on, you need food.” Forestalling any further protests, he grabbed Daniel by the arm and dragged him along in the direction of the mess hall. “I know how important your work is, and that you're great at it, but this thing you've been obsessing over for the past few days isn't going anywhere, not unless the Stargate Program becomes public knowledge and you - and yes, Ernest, too - can finally get the recognition you deserve.”
Startled, Daniel ground to a halt in the middle of the hallway, forcing Jack, who hadn't let go, to stop as well. “What?” he repeated dumbly, his brain not able to process Jack's deviation from his usual rules of using simple sentences and not inundating his resident troublemaker with undue praise.
Jack merely grinned and started walking again, tightening his grip on Daniel's biceps while rattling off, “What, you want me to spell it out for you? No? Okay, let's go. I'm hungry!”
Internally shaking his head, Daniel finally regained his footing and tagged along. Damn it, but he hated it when Jack was right.
One day, though, Ernest Littlefield would be remembered for the brave deeds he had done. And the world would know what wonders lay out there in the vastness of the galaxy.
One day.
3. Fire and Water
Daniel had been staring at his computer screen for more than an hour. His unfinished e-mail sat there, glaring at him accusingly. And shouldn't that be the other way around?
Rubbing his tired eyes, he questioned his motive of writing this message to his estranged grandfather for the hundredth time that day. Re-reading the first paragraph definitely didn't help with his decision on whether to send it or not.
Dear Nick,
Just so you know, I'm not dead after all. I don't even know if you got the notice, but in case you did: Well, I didn't drown (I think that was the official cause of death on my death certificate). It was all a mistake. So, uh, if you get this and maybe want to talk again sometime, just send me a message. By the way, last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary...
Disgusted with himself, Daniel shook his head violently to clear it. When the world finally stopped spinning again - and wasn't that a very familiar feeling these days? - he marked the text he'd painstakingly written and deleted it just as Sam poked her head into his room.
“Ready to bust out of here?” she asked, cheerful and happy to see her recovered teammate alive and well although still a little bedraggled and far too thin. At least he didn't smell like sea water anymore.
Forcing a grin for her benefit, Daniel closed the program and shut down his computer. “Yeah, Sam, let's get Jack and Teal'c and some pizza.”
Grabbing his jacket from his other chair, he pushed the guilt away. Nick had never been interested in his disappointment of a grandson anyway.
Right?
4. Evolution
Dr. William Lee showed bravery in the face of unforeseen violence and...
Swallowing convulsively, Daniel stopped typing and turned away from the screen, shivers of dread shaking his frame.
His ordeal in Honduras was over. Daniel and Bill had been home for more than two weeks, but the nightmares and memories still wouldn't go away.
Some sane part of Daniel's psyche laughed at the silly idea that the archaeologist turned adventurer turned warrior would be able to shrug off such torture and pain in a span of a dozen days or so. The other, childish half of him screamed for release, for it all to just go away, not to have to remember anymore...
Close to panic now, Daniel jumped up, turned around - and bumped into something soft and solid at the same time. His hands shot up to defend himself against the unexpected assailant, but his wrists were caught in a strong yet gentle grip. “DanielJackson,” a deep voice rumbled above him and brought him back to the here and now. Teal'c!
Embarrassed, Daniel stepped back and regarded the Jaffa filling his doorway, blocking out the light from the hall. “Sorry,” he mumbled, unconsciously rubbing his now free hands together. “I didn't see you there.”
An expressively raised eyebrow was the not so succinct reply. “May I inquire about what you were doing?”
Daniel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I was writing up Dr. Lee's evaluation. He's up for a raise.” He knew he wasn't fooling Teal'c one bit, though. His hands were shaking. He was sweating. Great, another flashback.
“Hmm.” The big man thought about it for a moment, not asking any more questions Daniel wasn't yet ready to answer. Then he stepped aside and gestured for his teammate to precede him into the hallway. “Will you accompany me, DanielJackson?” he asked.
Daniel knew it for the command it was. Giving in to the inevitable - it was either this or being dragged to the infirmary again - he stepped out into the corridor. Teal'c followed suit, and together they walked to the Jaffa's quarters on base. Once there, Teal'c motioned for Daniel to sit down on one of the meditation pillows scattered across the floor, and proceeded to light every single candle in the room.
Daniel didn't offer to help. His hands were shaking too badly and besides, preparing for meditation was almost as important to Teal'c as the act itself.
When the Jaffa finally sat down opposite Daniel, he had recovered enough from his remembered ordeal to look at Teal'c quizzically. “Is this your new technique of dealing with everything?” he asked, half in jest, half serious. This wasn't the first time he'd been dragged off for an impromptu meditation session since his return from the Ascended. It probably wouldn't be the last.
Teal'c almost smiled, which Daniel counted as a win. It was still hard to get the Jaffa to show any emotional reaction at all, so the slight twitch of his lips was as good as it would get.
“No, it is not,” came the half-humorous reply. “I think calming down will help us both regain our equilibrium, though.”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest Teal'c's assumption, but his friend wasn't finished.
“You are not expected to do everything at once, DanielJackson,” Teal'c admonished. “You have just begun to heal.” His stern gaze dared the archaeologist to protest.
Quailing under the knowing look, too tired to fight and knowing he wouldn't have to, not here, Daniel finally nodded and acquiesced, closing his eyes. There was no one here to see him giving in, and Teal'c would never tell.
Daniel had a reputation to uphold, after all.
5. Unending
Silence reigned. Odyssey hung in space, protected and detained at once by the time dilation field that had saved SG-1's lives and the knowledge the Asgard had bestowed upon their human friends. But at what cost?
Everyone else was asleep. Daniel sat alone, as close to the “window” as he could, curled up against the cold metal separating him from space. He looked out at the Ori energy beam threatening to tear them apart.
Would that really be so bad?
The notebook the ship's computer had created for him balanced on his knees, Daniel contemplated the past fifty years - and the additional decade leading up to this moment in relative time. There had been so many successes. So many failures. So much pain and love and happiness. Friendships found and lost. Enemies conquered, allies gained, only to be destroyed again.
And for what?
Chewing on the pencil in his right hand, Daniel made a decision. He put the point to paper and started to write about whatever crossed his mind, for once not caring about order or logic or doing it right, switching between languages without even noticing.
What better place and time to finally get lost in words and thoughts and memories?
This was the end.
Until suddenly, it wasn't.
+1
Do not mourn
For I am at peace
Do not regret my choice
For I made it knowingly
Remember our purpose
Not just here on Earth
Remember how we met
And how we parted
Do not mourn for me
I go in peace
Never to return
Sam choked out Daniel's last, prophetic words she had found among his belongings and broke down sobbing. She clung to Jack for support, not caring who saw strong, independent Carter cry. Teal'c took her arm, and Vala and Mitchell inched closer yet.
Together SG-1 stood and said goodbye, a silent elegy wailing in their hearts.
The End
Summary: Five times Daniel Jackson didn't finish his writing - and one time he did
Word count: 2246 words
Characters: Daniel Jackson and the rest of the gang + Sha're and Skaara
Era: Stargate (The Movie) - post-series
Categories: angst, drama, humor
Author's notes: I had so many ideas they didn't fit into a normal story. So I wrote a 5+1. Tissue warning!
Excerpt: “Daniel?” Jack tried again, an edge creeping into his tone.
Daniel finally stopped his manic typing and spared his team leader a short glance before turning back to his work. “What?!” he asked, impatient and not in the mood for one of Jack's lectures. Yes, he'd screwed up - again. He'd almost died - again. So what else was new?
“Daniel.” This time, it was a sigh.
E is for Eternal Writing Struggles
or
Five times Daniel Jackson didn't finish his writing - and one time he did
by immertreu
February 21 - 27, 2016
1. Stargate (The Movie) / Children of the Gods
“Dan'yel, what are you writing?” Sha're asked her husband. He was busy scribbling away on a clay tablet he'd made with his own hands, scratching as many markings into the still wet material before it dried up and turned too hard for his purpose.
His brow was furrowed, his eyes intent behind the glasses he needed to be able to read. The light from the flickering fire he was using as a light source gave him a mysterious look Sha're secretly cherished.
Daniel didn't react for a long moment while Sha're patiently looked on. When he finally gazed up, he smiled bashfully at his beautiful wife.
“Uh, what?” he asked, rubbing his eyes under his glasses and realizing that Sha're was still waiting for an answer. Work always had this effect on him that he forgot his time and place in the universe. Add to that the sight of his lovely, intelligent, courageous wife, and he even forgot how to speak or think.
Sha're laughed out loud at this. She'd long learned to accept and even love his eccentricities. It was what made life with him so much more interesting. Before she could repeat her question, though, her brother's voice interrupted.
“I think he is writing 'The Epistle of Dan'yel',” Skaara joked, remembering what Daniel had told them about the Bible and the various beliefs on Earth.
Daniel and Sha're snorted in unison, sharing an amused glance.
“Not quite,” Daniel finally said, switching to Abydonian so Skaara would have an easier time following his words. “I was only trying to record the events of last year, how we defeated Ra and his Jaffa, and reclaimed your freedom.”
Skaara perked up at that. “Are you finished?” he asked curiously.
Daniel sighed and shook his head. “No, I'm not. It is difficult to translate my ideas into written Abydonian. And it's slow work, so I have only reached the moment when Ra and his ship descended onto the pyramid.”
“Oh.” Skaara looked disappointed at this, but then he perked up. “Never mind that then,” he said with renewed enthusiasm. “You will soon have even more to write about.”
Daniel gazed at him sharply. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
“I came to tell you, we have finally dug out the Chappa'ai again.”
“So soon?!” Daniel jumped up and ran out of the room, leaving behind his amused wife, his bemused brother-in-law, and the clay tablet, forgotten by the fire until it crumbled into dust.
2. The Torment of Tantalus
“You're not gonna finish that essay, are you?”
Jack O'Neill had appeared in the doorway of Daniel's office with a scowl on his face and his arms securely crossed in front of his chest, ready for a fight. Funny, wasn't this usually Daniel's stance when things didn't go his way?
Not bothering to look up, SG-1's resident archaeologist and walking dictionary continued hacking notes and observations about their recent mission to PB2-908 and its consequences, the remnants of the mysterious races they had encountered, and Ernest Littlefield's experiences into his computer.
“Daniel?” Jack tried again, an edge creeping into his tone.
Daniel finally stopped his manic typing and spared his team leader a short glance before turning back to his work. “What?!” he asked, impatient and not in the mood for one of Jack's lectures. Yes, he'd screwed up - again. He'd almost died - again. So what else was new?
“Daniel.” This time, it was a sigh.
Jack uncrossed his arms and finally stepped into the cluttered room. He picked up a tiny statue of a goat - or was that a sheep? - that sat strategically placed within his reach on a nearby shelf, and started fiddling with it. “You do know that you'll never be able to publish, right?”
With a frustrated and angry huff, Daniel hit the enter key with more force than strictly necessary, saving his draft, and finally turned to look up at Jack with squinting eyes. Ouch, how long had he been down here? A glance at his watch made him wince. Far too long. Obviously. Or Jack wouldn't have come looking for him.
Rubbing a hand across his tired face, Daniel got up to pour himself another mug of coffee from the pot by the door - only to find it empty. “Great,” he muttered, putting down the cup and turning back to Jack, knowing there was no way he could avoid the confrontation now.
Instead of the expected argument, he got a surprise.
Jack clapped him on the shoulder and started to steer him out the door. “Come on, you need food.” Forestalling any further protests, he grabbed Daniel by the arm and dragged him along in the direction of the mess hall. “I know how important your work is, and that you're great at it, but this thing you've been obsessing over for the past few days isn't going anywhere, not unless the Stargate Program becomes public knowledge and you - and yes, Ernest, too - can finally get the recognition you deserve.”
Startled, Daniel ground to a halt in the middle of the hallway, forcing Jack, who hadn't let go, to stop as well. “What?” he repeated dumbly, his brain not able to process Jack's deviation from his usual rules of using simple sentences and not inundating his resident troublemaker with undue praise.
Jack merely grinned and started walking again, tightening his grip on Daniel's biceps while rattling off, “What, you want me to spell it out for you? No? Okay, let's go. I'm hungry!”
Internally shaking his head, Daniel finally regained his footing and tagged along. Damn it, but he hated it when Jack was right.
One day, though, Ernest Littlefield would be remembered for the brave deeds he had done. And the world would know what wonders lay out there in the vastness of the galaxy.
One day.
3. Fire and Water
Daniel had been staring at his computer screen for more than an hour. His unfinished e-mail sat there, glaring at him accusingly. And shouldn't that be the other way around?
Rubbing his tired eyes, he questioned his motive of writing this message to his estranged grandfather for the hundredth time that day. Re-reading the first paragraph definitely didn't help with his decision on whether to send it or not.
Dear Nick,
Just so you know, I'm not dead after all. I don't even know if you got the notice, but in case you did: Well, I didn't drown (I think that was the official cause of death on my death certificate). It was all a mistake. So, uh, if you get this and maybe want to talk again sometime, just send me a message. By the way, last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary...
Disgusted with himself, Daniel shook his head violently to clear it. When the world finally stopped spinning again - and wasn't that a very familiar feeling these days? - he marked the text he'd painstakingly written and deleted it just as Sam poked her head into his room.
“Ready to bust out of here?” she asked, cheerful and happy to see her recovered teammate alive and well although still a little bedraggled and far too thin. At least he didn't smell like sea water anymore.
Forcing a grin for her benefit, Daniel closed the program and shut down his computer. “Yeah, Sam, let's get Jack and Teal'c and some pizza.”
Grabbing his jacket from his other chair, he pushed the guilt away. Nick had never been interested in his disappointment of a grandson anyway.
Right?
4. Evolution
Dr. William Lee showed bravery in the face of unforeseen violence and...
Swallowing convulsively, Daniel stopped typing and turned away from the screen, shivers of dread shaking his frame.
His ordeal in Honduras was over. Daniel and Bill had been home for more than two weeks, but the nightmares and memories still wouldn't go away.
Some sane part of Daniel's psyche laughed at the silly idea that the archaeologist turned adventurer turned warrior would be able to shrug off such torture and pain in a span of a dozen days or so. The other, childish half of him screamed for release, for it all to just go away, not to have to remember anymore...
Close to panic now, Daniel jumped up, turned around - and bumped into something soft and solid at the same time. His hands shot up to defend himself against the unexpected assailant, but his wrists were caught in a strong yet gentle grip. “DanielJackson,” a deep voice rumbled above him and brought him back to the here and now. Teal'c!
Embarrassed, Daniel stepped back and regarded the Jaffa filling his doorway, blocking out the light from the hall. “Sorry,” he mumbled, unconsciously rubbing his now free hands together. “I didn't see you there.”
An expressively raised eyebrow was the not so succinct reply. “May I inquire about what you were doing?”
Daniel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I was writing up Dr. Lee's evaluation. He's up for a raise.” He knew he wasn't fooling Teal'c one bit, though. His hands were shaking. He was sweating. Great, another flashback.
“Hmm.” The big man thought about it for a moment, not asking any more questions Daniel wasn't yet ready to answer. Then he stepped aside and gestured for his teammate to precede him into the hallway. “Will you accompany me, DanielJackson?” he asked.
Daniel knew it for the command it was. Giving in to the inevitable - it was either this or being dragged to the infirmary again - he stepped out into the corridor. Teal'c followed suit, and together they walked to the Jaffa's quarters on base. Once there, Teal'c motioned for Daniel to sit down on one of the meditation pillows scattered across the floor, and proceeded to light every single candle in the room.
Daniel didn't offer to help. His hands were shaking too badly and besides, preparing for meditation was almost as important to Teal'c as the act itself.
When the Jaffa finally sat down opposite Daniel, he had recovered enough from his remembered ordeal to look at Teal'c quizzically. “Is this your new technique of dealing with everything?” he asked, half in jest, half serious. This wasn't the first time he'd been dragged off for an impromptu meditation session since his return from the Ascended. It probably wouldn't be the last.
Teal'c almost smiled, which Daniel counted as a win. It was still hard to get the Jaffa to show any emotional reaction at all, so the slight twitch of his lips was as good as it would get.
“No, it is not,” came the half-humorous reply. “I think calming down will help us both regain our equilibrium, though.”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest Teal'c's assumption, but his friend wasn't finished.
“You are not expected to do everything at once, DanielJackson,” Teal'c admonished. “You have just begun to heal.” His stern gaze dared the archaeologist to protest.
Quailing under the knowing look, too tired to fight and knowing he wouldn't have to, not here, Daniel finally nodded and acquiesced, closing his eyes. There was no one here to see him giving in, and Teal'c would never tell.
Daniel had a reputation to uphold, after all.
5. Unending
Silence reigned. Odyssey hung in space, protected and detained at once by the time dilation field that had saved SG-1's lives and the knowledge the Asgard had bestowed upon their human friends. But at what cost?
Everyone else was asleep. Daniel sat alone, as close to the “window” as he could, curled up against the cold metal separating him from space. He looked out at the Ori energy beam threatening to tear them apart.
Would that really be so bad?
The notebook the ship's computer had created for him balanced on his knees, Daniel contemplated the past fifty years - and the additional decade leading up to this moment in relative time. There had been so many successes. So many failures. So much pain and love and happiness. Friendships found and lost. Enemies conquered, allies gained, only to be destroyed again.
And for what?
Chewing on the pencil in his right hand, Daniel made a decision. He put the point to paper and started to write about whatever crossed his mind, for once not caring about order or logic or doing it right, switching between languages without even noticing.
What better place and time to finally get lost in words and thoughts and memories?
This was the end.
Until suddenly, it wasn't.
+1
Do not mourn
For I am at peace
Do not regret my choice
For I made it knowingly
Remember our purpose
Not just here on Earth
Remember how we met
And how we parted
Do not mourn for me
I go in peace
Never to return
Sam choked out Daniel's last, prophetic words she had found among his belongings and broke down sobbing. She clung to Jack for support, not caring who saw strong, independent Carter cry. Teal'c took her arm, and Vala and Mitchell inched closer yet.
Together SG-1 stood and said goodbye, a silent elegy wailing in their hearts.
The End