Title: Identity and Reconstruction

Author: Moonshayde

Season 7

Spoilers:  Stargate the movie and all previous seasons. Tales place after Homecoming and before Fragile Balance. Epilogue takes place after Orpheus.

Character: Daniel. Includes the rest of SG-1, Hammond, and Janet.

Summary: Daniel's quest to rediscover himself reaches its climax when he finds his life plagued with dreams, nightmares and flashbacks. Only by his strength and through self-discovery, will he be able to accept his past and embrace his future.

Rated: PG-13

 

 

Breathing hard, he gazed upward.  He ignored the heavy pounding in his head, and the throbbing pain at his side.

 

This would be it.  This was the time.  It had to be.

 

They were coming back now.  It was them.

 

He could barely contain himself as he gazed into the fluctuations of the event horizon.  From here, the Gate seemed so peaceful, inviting, and open.  From here, in this moment, he couldn't imagine anything negative being able to spring forth from beyond that doorway. From here, it was…

 

Just them. Only them.  They were finally coming home.

 

Feeling the excitement bubbling to the surface, almost too much to bear, he took a step forward, reaching the base of the ramp…

 

"Doctor Jackson!"

 

Daniel blinked, and jerked, gasping as he found himself staring at the barrel of berretta. The SF holding the weapon did not flinch, or make a sound, steady in his position, as he remained trained on Daniel's form.

 

Daniel blinked again, his mind struggling to make sense of what was happening.  More soldiers rushed into the Gateroom, weapons drawn, nearly surrounding him.  Astonished, Daniel raised his hands, swallowed hard, his gaze becoming one of fear and pleading as General Hammond entered the room.

 

"Doctor Jackson, do you mind telling me what this is all about?"

 

Daniel stared at the general dumbly. "I-I-What's going on?"

 

Frowning, the general regarded him seriously. "That's what I'm hoping you could tell me."  Always business, Hammond kept his arms by his side, and his voice remained stern in front of his men. But Daniel did not miss the softening in his eyes. "What are you doing in the Gateroom, son?"

 

Daniel stared at him, his mouth agape before turning to steal a glance at the Stargate.

 

Down. Deactivated. Nothing but emptiness.

 

They weren't coming. Not this time.

 

A wave of disappointment flooded his senses.

 

"Doctor Jackson?"

 

"I-uh," He stole another glance back to the Gate before turning to General Hammond. "I thought they were coming back."

 

General Hammond was studying him now, scrutinizing him with those piercing blue eyes.

 

Suddenly Daniel felt angry, resentful.  Why did everyone have to look at him that way? God, he hated this.  He hated this so much.

 

Of course they weren't coming.  They were already here.

 

 

"Okay, Daniel, do you want to tell me what just happened?"

 

He sighed, staring at the wall. Not really, he thought.  What was he supposed to say?  Everyone thought he was crazy anyway.

 

"Daniel?"

 

"It's nothing," he muttered, too embarrassed to look into Janet's eyes. "Just a headache."

 

"Just a headache?" Her voice sounded doubtful. "General Hammond told me you were looking for someone. In the Gateroom.  Is that true?"

 

"It might be."

 

He stole a glance her way and cringed.  For such a short woman, Doctor Janet Fraiser had an overwhelming presence.

 

"Doctor Jackson, if you aren't forthcoming with me, then I will just have to keep you in the infirmary." She glared at him firmly. "Indefinitely."

 

Sighing heavily, Daniel allowed his head to sink. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone?  He needed some quiet, some peace from all the thoughts swirling in his mind.  So much buzzing.  It made him feel dizzy…

Daniel jerked, snapping his eyes open as he felt Janet's hand on his arm.  Her features were full of worry, and she had about a half a dozen nurses and aides standing in wait.

You have to be kidding, he thought, realizing he had slumped and nearly fallen off the gurney where he had been sitting.  When was this going to end?

 

"Daniel, why don't you lean back and rest your head on that pillow.  One of the aides here is going to get you something for your headache and something to drink, okay?"

 

"Janet, I don't need…" He let his voice trail off as he licked his lips, realizing he was indeed thirsty. Sighing softly, he eased himself back into the bed. "Thanks," he said.

 

"It's not a problem," she said gently, stroking his arm.  "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

 

He hesitated, studying her closely.  Janet continued to smile at him warmly, running her hand up and down his arm in that soothing manner she always seemed to possess. But under her gentleness ran a current of authority.

 

"Daniel," she said softly, "I am both your doctor and your friend. Don't make me use my rank as medical officer over that friendship."

 

He sighed. What could he do?  The more he resisted, the longer he would be stuck here.

 

Daniel closed his eyes, rubbing his right side absently. "I thought they were coming back."

 

"Who?  Who was coming back?"

 

Despite feeling his cheeks redden, he continued. "SG-1.  I thought they were returning through the Stargate."

 

There was silence from the diminutive doctor.  He chanced a glance by opening his eyes.

 

Janet kept her grip firm on his forearm.  "SG1 isn't off-world at this time.  In fact, Sam and Teal'c are on base.  I can call them if you'd like."

 

"No, I know. I know. I just had thought…they were off-world.  It was my mistake. I was just a little confused."

 

"Another flashback?"

 

He sighed.  At first, he'd welcomed the flashbacks.  They always felt so real. Now that he had a way to associates images to his feelings, he could look into the past. Relive the past.  The words that he read, the things people told him…now, they could be real. Actual living memory to compliment the few scattered thoughts he'd been able to recall on his own. The experience was amazing.

 

Then, the flashbacks changed.  No longer were they informative and fresh, offering him new life.  They had become draining and tiresome, showing him events that horrified him.  He felt more and more uneasy as the flashbacks increased, and a deep brooding sense of guilt and loathing had started to settle in himself. Why?  Why would he feel like this?

 

These people—his friends.  They were good people. They genuinely cared about him and his well-being.  He had witnessed it himself.  He read about it in the reports.

 

So why was he afraid?

 

He had joked around with Jack. He had watched a couple of movies with Teal'c.  He'd hung around with Sam. But something was off; something just wasn't right. What was he missing? Was he missing something at all?

 

Why couldn't he seem to distinctly remember all the good times they had together?

 

"Daniel."

 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, suddenly regretting the move.  Another wave of dizziness struck him, and he clutched the sides of the bed, cursing to himself over his condition.

 

Why couldn't Oma Desala allow him to be himself?  Why hadn't she wanted him to stay with her?

 

"Daniel," Janet repeated. "Daniel, I need to know how many times you've acted out one of your flashbacks."

 

He just stared at her. "What do you mean?"

 

"Oh, you know what I mean." She crossed her arms across her chest.  "You were looking for SG-1 in the Gateroom.  How many other times have you snapped out of a flashback to find yourself somewhere different?"

 

 This wasn't a good conversation to have, he decided.

 

"This was the fir—" He halted, chilled as he watched her eyes narrow.  How could she always tell when someone was lying?

 

"A handful of times."

 

"A handful?"

 

Daniel stared at the ceiling. "Three. Four."

 

Her expression became hard.

 

"Maybe seven."

 

Her arms flung to her side. "Seven?  And you're sharing this information now?" she shook her head. "How do you get past the SF's—"

 

"Most of the time they don't know. I don't know. The few flashbacks I have acted out, as you say, have been about work in my office.  All of us just end up there." He shrugged, placing his glasses on the bedside table.  "Or they happen at night, when I am asleep.  Usually at night."

 

"Daniel," Janet started gently, "It's very important that you tell me these things. You don't have to take on this burden alone."

 

Alone. But hadn't that always been the case?

 

He was suddenly feeling uncomfortable again.

 

"I've been honest.  Can I go now?"

 

Janet cocked her head, eyeing him carefully. Daniel sighed, knowing that look.

 

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Daniel," she said in her kindest voice. "I just want to run a few tests and give you something for the headaches and the dizziness."  She whispered something to another one of her aides before the man left. "And I also want your word that you will tell me the next time this happens."

 

What good would it do?  What if the next time he came to his senses he was just about to be swallowed by an establishing wormhole?  He'd just come so close…

 

He shivered at the thought. Oma Desala wouldn't be there to save him then.

 

"Daniel?"

 

"I'll let you know," he said in a hollow voice.

 

"Have you been keeping a journal?" she asked abruptly.

 

He nodded, bringing his hands to his head. "Yes."

 

Sam's idea. Since Daniel loved to write and loved to ponder written texts, Sam had thought it useful for him to record his experiences.  So day-by-day, Daniel would chart out the events from morning until night, jotting down the most mundane, like what he had chosen to eat for breakfast, to the most outlandish, like screaming in the shower, with the hope of piecing together his life.

 

He had to admit that in some ways it helped, especially since his reports only showed him his intellectual side and his personal journals only went so far.  He chuckled to himself, feeling both irritated and amused, thinking back to journals of several occasions where he had found it more important to write pages and pages on his impressions of an artifact, instead of writing his feelings at the time.

 

But everyone told him that was perfectly normal for him. Leave it to him to even rob himself of his emotions now, years after writing some of these entries.

 

"Why?" he asked Janet, pressing his fingers to his temples.

 

"If you're keeping a journal faithfully, then perhaps you have recorded your thoughts and impressions right before you have a flashback." She tugged gently at his hands to further gain his attention, motioning to the aide beside her.  "We might not be able to predict them precisely, but we could develop a better understanding of your state just prior to a flashback."

 

"You mean like a warning sign?" Daniel asked, gratefully accepting the pills and water from the medical assistant.

 

"Something like that.  Though, I do admit it will be difficult. Your flashbacks are triggered by certain events, words, sounds, smells…they can come very quickly.  That is why it is important for you to stay alert and aware so that you can record what is happening and then provide that information to us."  She smiled at him.  "We just want to help you and get you back on your feet again."

 

"I know." He pressed his head deeper into the pillows.  "I know."

 

They all wanted him back.  The person that had died a year ago.  But could he give them that person?  Did he even want to be that person?

 

He'd read the reports. He had felt impressions of his past.  He had seen some video from the security camera. He had experienced several flashbacks.

 

He hated it.  He hated it all. Why? Why couldn't he find peace?

 

He should have remained on Vis Uban.  He should have never come back.

 

"Daniel?"

 

Closing his eyes, Daniel pushed Janet's voice out of his consciousness. He didn't want to deal with this anymore.  He just wanted to be alone.

 

Why couldn't anyone leave him alone…

 

He was alone.

 

Dark, cold…

 

Tired, scared…

 

He was going to die here. Alone.

 

Daniel curled into himself, chattering his teeth as he heard the grunts and moans of the Touched all around him. They were eating now—God only knew what that was—and had gathered by the warmth of the fire.

 

Maybe…

 

Daniel moved slightly, attempting to slip away undetected, as the Touched lay absorbed in their meal. If he could just sneak away, hide away, he would buy himself some time.  Surely, Jack would come for him…

 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, refusing to recall the images of his friends at the SGC. There was little time for thought now.  Already, he had begun to feel differently, his mind more sluggish, but his senses were heightened, and he felt more alert. More alive.

 

No, he couldn't stay. He had to leave.

 

Summoning the courage, Daniel began to crawl away, tasting the freedom just out of arm's reach.  Almost…

 

Almost. He had almost made it.

 

Daniel lashed out, struggling against Teal'c.  They were there.  Dammit, why couldn't anyone see them?

 

Daniel jerked, watching the small metallic blue worm wriggle into Teal'c.

 

What the hell was that?

 

"Something just went into Teal'c!"

 

God, they were all staring at him. Staring! Staring at him with pity and sympathy. No, fear. No! he screamed to himself, I am not crazy!  It just went into Teal'c.

 

He panicked, watching the orderlies enter, ready to restrain him.

 

"Don’t just stand there! Get it out of him!"

 

Closer, closer. They were coming closer.

 

 No, he thought, no I can't be locked up here alone.  Don't leave me…

 

"They are gone."

 

"No," Daniel said defiantly, feeling his reserve energy starting to fail him. He rose, pointing to the alien. "No, they wouldn't leave without me."

 

"You are no more."

 

"Wha—They think I'm--?"

 

"This memory I gave them, so they would not return."

 

Daniel stared at the alien known as Nem with disbelief. Gone. They were gone. And he was left here alone.

 

"Why?" he cried despairingly. "Why are you doing this?"

 

Daniel glared at him, feeling his anger, fear, bubbling to the surface.

 

"What right do you have to judge the value of my life?" he asked irately, struggling through the weakness of his new body.

 

Ma'chello gazed at him with cold indifference. Daniel never would have thought his own face could be so chilling. "I have suffered more than anyone should suffer in a lifetime. For fifty years, I fought against the Goa'uld. Then I was betrayed by my wife, whom they secretly turned into a host."
 
"So was mine. She is still with them."

 

"At least you still have a planet. And friends. Two billion of my people died rather than surrender me to the Goa'uld," Ma'chello said coolly.

"You have made great sacrifices. We owe you gratitude. But still it does not give you the right to take another's life."
 
"If you had the technology, you would do the same."
 
"No, I wouldn't. Because then I would become no better than the Goa'uld."

Ma'chello glared at him angrily. "I am not a Goa'uld. I hate the Goa'uld."

Daniel stood his ground, despite his weakness. "The Goa'uld use hosts because they think they are better than humans. Because they believe, they deserve it. You're a Goa'uld, Ma'chello. I am nothing but a host to you."
 
"I am not a Goa'uld."
 
"My wife is still alive. There is a chance I can still save her. You are stealing that chance."
 
"Even if you still had this body, you will never find her."

"I will find her," Daniel answered defiantly. He couldn't die here now, trapped in this old man's body.  He felt the tears welling, spilling from his eyes. "I will find her!"

 

"Sha're!"

 

Daniel stood with disbelief as he gazed at the face of his wife. The wife he had lost only a year ago. And now, she was here, on Abydos. Pregnant.

 

"Daniel!"
 
"It's all right, Sha're.  Push," Daniel instructed while he remained waiting at her feet.

 

"No! The demon will come back!"
 
"You have to push."

 Sha're cried desperately. "But I will lose you, Daniel!! Please!!"
 
"Look at me."

 

"Please!!!"
 
Daniel clenched his fists, gathering his strength before gazing intensely at his wife. "Look at me! I love you! I will always love you. You understand?" He choked, struggling to hold back the strong emotions he felt. "The Goa'uld will never be able to take that away from us. Do you understand me?  Never."

 

 Never…

 

No, they hadn't. The Goa'uld had never taken that love from them, not even when she passed away.  Not even when he had died. Nothing. No one could come between Daniel and for whatever, for whomever, he felt so passionately.

 

He was loyal and steadfast, unwavering.

 

Was that what drew these people to him?

 

Daniel was suddenly acutely aware of noises around him, but he felt neither the strength nor the need to open his eyes. He was so tired…

 

"I came as soon as you called. How long has he been lying there?" Jack's voice asked.

 

"A few hours," Janet responded. 

 

"Sleeping?"

 

"Yes, sir.  We've noticed some intense REM readings during his time here in the infirmary."

 

"Flashbacks?" That was Sam's voice.

 

"I think so, Sam.  Though, I won't know for certain until he wakes up and might be able to tell us."

 

"So wake him up," Jack said.

 

Nice, Daniel thought. So considerate.

 

"Would it not be best for DanielJackson to awaken on his own, O'Neill?"

 

 Ah, thank you, Teal'c.

 

"Maybe we're pushing him too hard," Sam informed them.  "I mean, we have been grilling him for information on a daily basis. Maybe he just needs some time to adjust on his own terms."

 

"I thought that was what we were doing?" He heard Jack sigh impatiently. Patience was never one of Jack's strongest suits, he thought to himself. "What he needs is some beer. Beer will fix everything."

 

Daniel chuckled to himself, recalling a time where Jack had sworn that beer was the cure for sore throat. And for a stubbed toe. And for eye strain…

 

"I do not see how beer will be effective, O'Neill."

 

"Nevermind."

 

"Well, I know you're all concerned for Daniel, but I can't have everyone crowding the infirmary," Janet said sadly. "As soon as he wakes up, I will call you."

 

"SG-12 having some troubles again?" Jack asked off-handedly.

 

Janet sighed. "Yes."

 

"I thought they just came back."

 

"They were authorized back to the planet, sir," Sam stated.

 

"Yes. Okay, enough stalling," Janet said authoritatively. "Time to go.  Let my patients rest."

 

He sighed with relief, hearing the sounds of shuffling near the exit.  He cautiously opened one eye, then his other, testing the light, and wiping the residual stickiness from his lids.

 

Had he been crying? Wonderful.

 

He turned his head to his left and then to his right, noticing there was an airman lying on one of the beds. He appeared to have a burn—perhaps from a staff blast or some other weapon—on his right shoulder.  Daniel felt his own shoulder, rubbing it tenderly, as he felt another memory struggling to bubble to the surface.

 

Not this time, he told himself, grinding his teeth.  I've had enough fun for one afternoon.

 

Angry, Daniel flopped back down on his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Why?  Why did this have to happen?  Why did he deserve this?

 

They cared for him.  They seemed to care so deeply.

 

Why?  How?  After what he had done to them…

 

He cared for them.  He felt the emotion acutely, so deeply it lit his mind on fire.

 

And yet, he had hurt them just as deeply.

 

Opening his eyes, he stared upward, focusing on that painful, searing light above him.  So painful…

 

The pain was everywhere, like someone stabbing him with a thousand needles over every inch of his body.  Oh, God, it hurt.  It hurt so badly.

 

Not quickly.  It wouldn't end quickly.  No, it would be long and hard, like a kind of torture.

 

No, stop it. That's over.  I don't want to think about this.

 

He could hear their voices, but he couldn't see anymore.  Not at this point. Everything was numb, over the pain, but he could hear them.  He felt detached though, almost as if he had already slipped away. The sedatives and painkillers couldn't help him now.

 

No!  I don't want to remember this!

 

Each one came to his side, mourning him. Each friend came, trying to find peace with him, desperate to try to find a way to save him.  No one wanted to lose him. No one wanted to say goodbye.

 

God, they loved him. Loved him so deeply.

 

There was nothing he could do. Not here. Not this way.  Another way…there was always another way.

Please…

The pain.  The light. The light no longer stung, but was warm, comforting.

 

She was there now, talking to him, guiding him.  She held wisdom, knowledge, and friendship.  She could save him.  She could lift him from his despair. She was the answer.  And then maybe one day, he could return to them all that they had given him.

 

He loved them.  So very much.  He'd miss them. So very much.

Oma, why did you leave me this way? Did you?

He gasped, feeling his body spasm.  It was ending now. Time to move on. He released Jack from his mind, his thoughts, knowing this was the hardest thing he ever had to do.

 

It was time to go.

 

"Oh my God, no!"

 

Daniel cried out, feeling the pain rip through him as he thrashed around the bed.  Within moments, he was surrounded and he was being pinned down.  He grinded his teeth, screaming, ignoring the pleas from the aides and assistants.

 

"I'm dying! I don't want to die!"

 

"Daniel, hold still. You're not dying," Janet's voice stated evenly, cutting through the madness.

 

Daniel gasped again, his eyes wildly searching through her, through the haze that had obstructed his vision. "Janet?"

 

"I'm here. Hold still.  I am going to give you a little something to calm you."

 

Daniel shook fiercely, breathing hard. "I am not a Goa'uld!  Don't give me that!  Where's Dr. Fraiser?  Don't give me that.  I am Dr. Daniel Jackson.  I need to see Colonel O'Neill."

 

He heard Janet's voice again, and blinked.

 

"Daniel, I'm right here.  If you need Colonel O'Neill, I can get him for you."

 

Daniel whimpered, feeling the tears escape his eyes once again.

 

I'm crazy, he thought.  I have no control over my thoughts or feelings.  They all must think I'm crazy.

 

He had to get out of here.  He couldn't take this scrutiny any longer.

 

"Get out of my way," he snapped at the nurse hovering over him. "Get that needle away from me."

 

"Daniel," Janet said sternly. "Daniel, I need for you to lie back down."

 

"No." Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing the nurse away.  He couldn't stay here.  It was driving him mad.  He had to leave.

 

"Daniel. Doctor Jackson," Janet declared, snapping her fingers to two of her larger assistants. "Don't make me order you to stay."

 

"No."  Daniel grabbed onto his head, feeling the pain shoot through him.  Damn these headaches.  "I can't do this anymore!" he yelled.

 

"Daniel, I am given you one last—"

 

"No!" Daniel jumped to his feet, struggling to push through the two male aides that were blocking his path.  They grabbed him by the arms and started to drag him back to the bed. "No!" he yelled again.

 

His mind was like jelly.  He couldn't separate anything. Moaning softly, he slumped in their grasp, grinding his teeth as he struggled through the blur of thoughts and emotions that were flooding him.

 

"Get Colonel O'Neill," Janet ordered sharply. "Make sure Teal'c is with him."

 

"No!" Daniel yelled again, kicking his legs and lashing out his arms.  "No, stop this!"

 

"Daniel," Janet's voice was straining now. "If you don't calm down I am going to have to restrain you.  I don't want to do it, but it's for your own protection."

 

"Your own protection," he spat bitterly.  "Let me go."

 

"No," she told him firmly. "Let's get a sedative ready," she whispered to one of the nurses.

 

"No. No! No!!" Daniel cried, shaking his head back and forth. "No more!  I don't want to dream anymore!"

 

"Daniel!"

 

The agony. The pain seared through him once again and he struggled hard against it, trying to push it away.

 

"I have to go back!" he yelled, still struggling. "You're killing me!"

 

"What happened?" Daniel heard Jack's voice, but he couldn't see him. Damn, he just couldn't see him.

 

"I think he's passing in and out of particularly painful flashbacks, sir," Janet said softly. "I may need to restrain him."

 

"No!" Daniel tried to move, but they were holding him down now.  They were all holding him back.

 

No…

 

"Stop killing me!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

 

"Damn," he heard Jack mutter.

 

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as the assistants held him in place on the bed. He kicked a couple of times to show them he couldn't be restrained so easily before he relaxed his body.  When he had calmed his breathing, he noticed Teal'c and Jack were two of the people gripping him.

 

Squinting, Daniel focused on Jack, fighting to keep his rage at bay.

 

"Boerenlul," he swore angrily.

 

"What the hell, Daniel?  Cursing at me in different languages now?" He turned to an aide. "What language was that?" He narrowed his eyes at Daniel. "What did you just say?"

 

"Loop naar de hel," Daniel started again, remembering another one of his grandfather's favorite phrases.

 

"I think I understood that one," Jack growled irately.  "You satisfied now?"

 

Daniel jerked under their grasp. They were unyielding.

 

"No more drugs, please," Daniel whispered, motioning to the syringe in Janet's hand.

 

"Love to have it go that way, but you just went ballistic on Doctor Fraiser's team here and I don't think she appreciates that much."  Jack regarded him seriously. "And I don't appreciate the mouth on me. No one is trying to hurt you, you know."

 

"I know." He sighed.  He knew that. "I know. Sorry."

 

He forced himself to relax again, breathing out deeply.  He knew they were trying their best.  He knew.  What was wrong with him?

 

"You gonna stay put?"

 

"Sir?"

 

Jack released one of his hands and waved Janet away.  He focused hard on Daniel.  "If we let you go, are you going to stay right there?"

 

"Yes."

 

"I am holding you to your word, Daniel.  If you don't keep it, I will have Teal'c beat the living crap out of you, you hear?"

 

"I will do no such thing, O'Neill."

 

Jack rolled his eyes. "You got to work with me here, T."

 

Teal'c straightened his back, and arched an eyebrow at Daniel as he continued to hold him effortlessly. "I would never intentionally bring physical harm to you, DanielJackson."

 

"Thanks, Teal'c," Daniel said weakly.

 

"Okay, then, it's decided?"

 

"I won't create a fuss."

 

Slowly, carefully, Jack released his grip and the other follows suit. Daniel exhaled again, not realizing he kept holding his breath.

 

"Want to give Doc Fraiser the courtesy to tell her what just happened here?"

 

 He sighed. No, not really.

 

"I needed some space," Daniel conceded, avoiding Jack's gaze. "I-I felt trapped."

 

 "Flashbacks?" he asked him.

 

 Another sigh. "Yeah."

 

 "Do you recall what may have triggered your memories, DanielJackson?"

 

 "Yeah."

 

 He said nothing after that, watching Jack squirm impatiently.  "Okay, so? And?"

 

 "I was remembering what it was like to die."

 

No one responded to that comment. He didn't really expect them to answer. Since his return, he had easily noticed that everyone on base had avoided the subject of his death, and whenever he went hunting for details, he hit a wall.  There were some details in the reports he read, but not enough for him to understand. Even when he had asked Janet to explain to him what had happened, and how he had reacted to the radiation poisoning, she had only released partial information, keeping it as vague as possible. Finally, Daniel had gone searching online for information, once his identity had been reestablished in the network. He had cringed with disgust reading on what he could have gone through, but he had never known for sure.  Now, he knew.  He remembered every bit of it. The bleeding sores, the loss of his hair, the liquefying of his tissue.  Every last gory detail, he remembered.

 

"Then, I saw the syringe and that brought back some other pleasant memories," he added sardonically.

 

"I'm sorry, Daniel," Janet said softly. "You were extremely agitated and we—"

 

"No, no. I understand.  I'm just tired.  Very tired."

 

The flashbacks drained him, depleting him of his strength in a way he didn't think any of them could understand.  These horrible, horrible memories.  He was beginning to wonder if there was anything positive left to his existence.

 

"I'll take that sedative now," he asked hopefully. "I won't dream that way."

 

"Daniel," Janet started softly, passing the syringe to a male nurse. "I only like to use them as a last resort. If you are calling up these images and feelings, then your mind must need them to be processed."

 

 "What are you trying to say?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

 

"She means let what happens, happen," Jack said bluntly. "Unless…" he waved his hand around, nonchalantly. "You don't want it to happen."

 

Daniel narrowed his eyes.  "I don't like what you're implying."

 

"Don't have to like it," he said with a listless smile. "But think about it."

 

Pursing his lips with frustration, Daniel scowled and turned away from him.

 

"Just saying…" Jack said, allowing his voice to trail off. "Let's go, Teal'c.  We'll come back when Daniel feels more like sharing."

 

Daniel let them go, ignoring the slight tremor that shook his body.  He needed to be alone.  He didn't need anyone right now.

 

He was so tired.

 

"Daniel?"

 

 He rolled his head so that he could see Janet.  "Yes?"

 

 "Do you need anything? Food? Water?"

 

 "No, I'm okay.  Just tired."

 

 I don't want to dream, he thought to himself.  Don't let me dream this time.

 

 He could already feel himself slipping.

 

 "Okay, well call me if you need anything, okay?

 

 "Okay…"

 

 The light started to fade, and he felt his eyes slipping shut, his mind lulling into some other reality.  He thought once more of the pain, of his anger and his confusion. Of all the guilt and shame. What if Jack was right? What if--?

 

 "But there was a moral issue."

 

 I was always the one who sought morality in the face of death.

 

"Well actually Jack asked me to give him another choice so…technically I’m following an order."

 

 A little headstrong, I didn't always follow orders, but I did listen to the important ones. 

 

"I’m sorry; I just don’t understand why you would continue to fight a war when there’s another choice."

 

 And I always tried to find another way. 

"Well, it was his choice. I told them they didn't have to kill."

 A better way.

"Well, we have to give them the option. Then it's their choice."

 Something to counter the destruction that we saw each day.

"We are killing a whole race of people here!  How can I not care?!"

 

 I was also always known as the compassionate one.

 

"Actually, sir, I kind of told them it’d be ok. I told them we’d have to leave them in the halls, sort of a…compromise."

 The mediator.

"I’m just saying that if we know what we’re worth, maybe there’s something we can offer for our freedom."

 Somewhat of a negotiator.

"Your Eminence, our government has asked us to return to Tollana to arrange for formal diplomatic relations with your people."

 The diplomat.

 "It sounds familiar. A bit like Berber. Maybe Chadic or Omotic."

 The translator.

"Yes. I’m, uh, Daniel Jackson, the person you were talking to before. This is Major Carter, Colonel Jack O'Neill and Teal'c."

 The linguist who usually took the first step.

 "We’re peaceful explorers from a place called Earth."

 An avid explorer.

"W'uh, well we should stay awhile longer and study the society. Learn how they've evolved from Minoan culture. I mean, see those statues over there, those are bulls. The bull is all throughout Minoan culture on Earth but we never really knew why."

 The anthropologist.

"SG-11, Archaeological survey P3X-888, dig site four...Five. Subject Queen, primordial Goa'uld as evidence by the enlarged pectoral musculature and dorsal structure. This Goa'uld ancestor appears to have been a…"

The archaeologist.

 

"Teotihucan flourished for centuries as a religious and economic mecca before suffering a great upheaval in 750AD. Now, I think your people could be the descendants of that civilization."

 

The historian.

 

"How did you incorporate the three-dimensional nature of the information? Of course. You measured the element's distance from a central point.  Degrees from zero around in a circle, and height above the floor."

 

The scientist.

 

"How do you ensure universal communication?  You reduce the method of communication to the most basic elements common to everyone and everything that exists in the universe.  Jack, this is a true universal language."

 

The scholar.

"Now, on the outer track these figures that you would believe to be words to be translated were…in fact…were in fact star constellations."

 Sometimes thought to be brilliant.

 "I was just thinking that maybe you’d want to put Urgo in you."

 With a tendency to think outside the box.

 

 "The truth is our defense."

 

 A little naïve.

"Well something about this place says we all shouldn’t rush in there waving guns around."

 And then sometimes not.

 

I had grown over time, and changed.  I was no longer the "geek," the inept linguistic archaeologist that had started out on that first mission to Abydos. No, a lot had changed.  I had changed. It scared me. I felt…I felt as if I was losing an important part of myself.

 

How does one cope with the death of their soul?

 

Daniel pushed harder, forcing away his thoughts and feelings, desperately attempting to find the solitude of nothingness.

Was that what he had sought on that fateful day?

I didn't want to die. But I had become so…disillusioned.

He'd remembered all the fights, all the times he'd come back from a mission wondering, why, why, why?  What was the point anymore?  Traveling through the Gate seemed to have lost all its meaning.  There was no life, no vibrancy anymore.  All it held was the stench of death.

"I believe my entire life has been a failure."

The failure.

That thought stung hard, causing Daniel to clutch the side of the bed with despair. Everything had culminated into that one statement, hadn’t it?  His entire life. His entire career…

I don't want to be that person!

No, he didn't.  He didn't want to be a failure.  He didn't want to feel worthless.

Why had it come to this?  How had he gone from someone who could find every possible alternative to death and yet could not prevent his own demise? How? Why? 

Why in the end no matter what he tried, he still felt alone?

I don't want to be alone anymore.

I never really wanted to die.

I just wanted a place to truly belong.

 "Daniel?"

Stifling a yawn, Daniel slowly opened his eyes.  His vision blurred, and he felt slightly dizzy, but he was able to make out the form that was seated next to him.

"Sam?" he asked sleepily.

"Hi," she said with a smile. "I heard you talking so I had come by to see you. I hadn't realized you were still sleeping."

He paled, wondering how long she had been there and what she could have possibly heard.

"Don't worry," she said, sliding a tray in front of him. " It sounded like Russian."

He looked down at his tray, blinking a few times as he struggled to clear his vision.  "What's this?"

 She pointed to the bowl. "Soup."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Hey," she started defensively. "I know you're not sick. But when I was little, soup always made me feel better, even when I wasn't sick and just had a lot of my mind.  So did chocolate, but you ate all my chocolate."

"That was good chocolate," he admitted, licking his lips.

 "I am glad you enjoyed it, but now soup will have to do."

He glanced down at the soup and sighed.  He didn't have the heart to tell Sam he didn't want any company right now, let alone a bowl of whatever the hell this stuff was.  He took the spoon and stirred the mixture, watching the clumps of vegetables bob around the broth.

"God, Daniel, it's not some science experiment," Sam joked.

"I guess I'm just not that hungry," he said dejectedly.

"That's okay." Sam seized the soup before he could give it a second thought.  She shoved it over on the end table that was by the side of his bed, and grabbed his glasses, handing them to him. "I figured you were going to say something like that so I brought this."

 Daniel slipped on his glasses and stared at the box in her hands. "A puzzle?" he asked.

She nodded, shaking the box.

"Don't you have work you need—"

"I've been told that I work too much and that I needed to take a break," she muttered, prying open the box.

"Ah, Jack locked you out of your lab again," he said with a smile.

"I wouldn't take it lightly, Daniel. I saw him with your key card too."

Daniel frowned at that comment as he watched Sam spread some of the puzzle pieces down on his tray.

"How did he get them?"

"I think he managed to get to Teal'c," she answered, shaking her head.  She stared at a conjoined puzzle piece before tossing it on the tray. "My theory is that Teal'c has been acting as his informant for some time."

 "Spy on the inside, then."

"Who knows what other information he could have divulged," she said, grinning.

He smiled back. Anyone listening to this conversation would surely think some alien device had compromised them. In some ways, this was fun, and struck a chord deep within him. But in other ways, it caused him sadness, and allowed that sense of guilt to start creeping back.

"You know, Sam, I really appreciate that you came by to see me, but—"

"I see it two ways," she said, interrupting him.  "I can either dictate the mathematical patterns and probability of each and every puzzle piece in relation to each other, or we could have fun and do the puzzle."  She arched an eyebrow at him, her blue eyes cool and knowing. "Which will it be?"

He sighed, sending her a mock glare. "The puzzle."

"Good."

"So what's the picture we're putting together?"

 She held up the box and grinned.

 "Oh, a pyramid."

"Oh, a pyramid?  I thought you would be more excited than that."

"I am. I am."  He smiled softly, appreciating the gesture. "Just a little tired."

She appeared concerned. "Maybe if you ate some—Hi, Teal'c."

Daniel turned to watch Teal'c enter the infirmary and step to the side of his bed.  He bowed slightly.

"Good day, DanielJackson. Did you enjoy a restful sleep?"

"Yes," he lied.

Teal'c nodded, and then halted, arching his eyebrow as he regarded Daniel knowingly. Feeling his face redden, Daniel looked down and fingered the puzzle pieces.

"Teal'c, we are about to work on a puzzle.  Did you want to join us?" Sam asked hopefully.

"I do not understand," Teal'c stated, examining one of the puzzle pieces and then eyeing the box in Sam's hands. "It appears this picture is broken."

"It's a puzzle, Teal'c. It's supposed to be broken," Sam told him.

He seemed more confused.

"You put it together," Daniel explained. "To make the picture."

"I see."  He grabbed a chair and pulled it to the opposite side of Daniel's bed.  "Then I would be honored to join you in this puzzle making."

"Great," Sam said cheerfully.  "Okay, so the trick is to find the pieces that correlate and then fit them together."

Teal'c picked up two pieces and stared at them.  "How does one know which pieces are to be fit together?"

"Well, that's the fun part, Teal'c," Sam said pointing to the pieces. "You have to sift through all the pieces to find the right ones."

Teal'c stared at her.

"It's fun," she replied to his silent question.

"This does not appear to be fun."  He surveyed the tray. "In fact, this appears most tedious."

Daniel chuckled.  "It actually is fun, Teal'c."

"I do not understand who would do such a thing," he said, motioning to the picture.

"But it is fun," Daniel said persuasively. "Just try it."

"If you insist, DanielJackson."

"Okay, Teal'c, you take—"

Sam stopped mid-sentence as the sound of blaring klaxons filled the halls. Quickly, she jumped to her feet, and ran to the exit, following Teal'c.  Glancing over her shoulder, she threw Daniel a curt apologetic look.

He understood.  Duty called.

And here he was, sitting in bed.

Well, this just wouldn't do anymore.

Tired and sore from lying in the same position for so long, Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed, testing his feet one at a time.  He seemed to be steady, and he noted the lack of dizziness, which was a good sign.

He knew he'd promised Jack he would stay here.  He promised.  He wasn't going to go anywhere.  Just for a little walk around the infirmary.  That was all.

Daniel stumbled forward, clutching his head, ignoring the watchful gaze of one of the SF's that had been tailing him for days. He was sure they were about as happy babysitting him as he was.

"Be right back," he told the woman, motioning to the facilities.

With a yawn, he fumbled for the door, only to jerk away when he heard a rush of activity behind him.

The infirmary was packed.  People were everywhere, restrained or being restrained. He could even hear people moaning and screaming from some of the private rooms.  Had he missed something?  He must have passed out, or lost time or…

He frowned watching a marine being wheeled away covered in what appeared to be…

The Touched virus.

Oh no, he thought.

Daniel edged away from the man, slipping past all the commotion. He moved where it was quieter, and where he could stay clear of the contagion.

Okay, so how had he ended up in the hallway?

Walking slowly, he pondered the many thoughts that were whirling in his mind.  He felt so detached, and the dizziness had started to creep back in again.  Ignoring the sensation, and pushing back the pain, he continued forward, keeping a watchful eye for anything suspicious.

"All debts have been paid," he heard echoing through his head.

There was a sudden click in his mind.  Breaking into a run, he tore down the corridor.  Why had she done this?  Why, now, just when he thought he could feel again?

Daniel gasped, feeling himself slow as if a tremendous weight had been thrown onto his shoulders.  It burned, pulling down harder and harder.  He blinked at his surrounding, feeling as if he should be surprised that he was no longer in the SGC.  But he wasn't.

Stumbling, he tried to regain his composure, but he crumpled to the floor, feeling the weight of the naquadah bringing him down. He called out, trying to explain to Sam and Jack…something wasn't right. Something with the armband?

When he regained consciousness, he realized he was back in the SGC again. A little unsteady, he rose to his feet, feeling a sudden urgency to get to the guest quarters.  There was some problem with the Goa'uld staying for the treaty; he couldn't allow anything to disrupt these proceedings.

He broke into a jog, and then to a run, grabbing a flashlight, feeling the pressure to make it out of the ziggurat as quickly as possible.  The ceiling wasn't secure, and he coughed from all the debris that was falling all around him.

They had to help the Tok'ra evacuate.

Just a moment, just one, away from the system lords so he could communicate to Jacob.  Sarah was here. There was another Goa'uld.

They had to get to Jack before another alien waved their arms and made someone disappear.

No, right behind him…hide quickly.

He heard the footsteps, gaining momentum as the person broke into a steady run.  Daniel dodged to his right, dashing into the nearest room.  Gasping for air, he stumbled, tripping over something in the darkness and crashed into metal shelving of some sort.  He cried out, feeling material shift.  Holding his head, he braced for it, wincing in pain as a box smacked into his back.

"Daniel?"

He paused, gasping for air.

"Jack?"

He heard tentative shuffling. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Don't put the light on!"

"Why?"

Daniel sighed nervously, glancing around the room, squinting in the darkness.  "Just-just leave it off." He licked his lips, pushing away the box that fell on him.  "Where am I?"

"You don't know?"

He sighed again. "No."

No, no.  He didn't know.  He didn't even know how he had gotten here.  Everything was so jumbled.

"Why don't I put the lig—?"

"When I was little, when I felt overwhelmed, or scared, or angry, I would go and hide someplace cool and dark," he confessed, interrupting Jack. "I became very good at hiding, and only could be found when I wanted to be found."

"So I've noticed," Jack said wryly.  "That's what's happening now?"

"Somewhat," he admitted, feeling embarrassed.  "And somewhat not."

"What?"

Biting his lip, Daniel took the object he was holding and slid it across the floor.  It made an audible thud when it hit what he believed to be Jack's boot.

"Please tell me that is a flashlight or something."

Jack bent over and picked up the object, turning it over in his hand.  "Well, it's definitely an "or-something." There was a pause for silence. "How did you get the gun, Daniel?"

Holding his head, he moaned, shaking his shoulders as he attempting to fight off the coming sobs.  A gun. Lovely. How had he managed to grab a gun? What if he had fired? 

"Daniel?"

"A minute ago, I tried talking into it."

The tension was palpable. Daniel felt eternally grateful that the he was shrouded both in darkness and in silence. He shook, trying to block out the images and insecurities he felt creeping into him.

"Geez, Daniel," Jack said at last, his voice nearly breaking.  "I told you to stay in the infirmary. You gave me your word."

"I know. I know I did."

"You could have hurt someone.  Or yourself," Jack said darkly, holding the gun.

"I know that! I don't even remember taking it!  All I remember are lots of jumbled thoughts.  It's all over before I can get a handle on what's happening!"

 Jack didn't respond.

"God, Jack, where the hell am I?"

"Storeroom," Jack said weakly.

 Oh God…

 "I didn't-I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"Nothing severe.  You knocked out one of the SF's before I saw you run in here." There was another pause. "Déjà vu all over again," he said quietly.

 "Yeah."

Daniel heard more movement, slow at first, then with what felt like renewed steadiness.  He tensed slightly as he felt his shame return. How could he continue to live like this?  What if he had actually…

"Listen, Daniel, I know you're going through a lot here, and—" Jack paused, his voice cut off by a crunching sound. "What was that?"

 "I think you just stepped on my glasses," Daniel commented mournfully.

 "Sorry."

"It's okay."

More silence.  Daniel squirmed uneasily before finally admitting defeat, and dropped his head into his hands.  The headaches were becoming unbearable now, and the thoughts in his mind kept swirling in an eddy of confusion, all fighting for dominance.  Even if he made it through this nightmare, he doubted he would leave with a shred of sanity.

Daniel lifted his head, wiping some of his tears away as he felt warmth by his side.

"Hey, push over."

He obliged, sighing as he slid against the wall and rested his head on along the side of the metal shelving.  He remained silent, watching and waiting for the next flashback to ravage him.

"So?"

"So what, Jack?  What do you expect me to say?"

"Tell me what's happening."

He shook his head, refusing to face the older man, even in the dark.  What was he supposed to say anyway?

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Oh, nothing. That's right.  I forgot. Everything is perfectly fine," he muttered sarcastically.

"Jack, look.  This is my problem and I have to deal with it in my way."

"That's the problem!  You aren't dealing with it!"  He felt Jack shift his body weight. "You just keep pushing it away. What are you afraid of anyway?"

"I'm not afraid," he snapped.

"Then, what was that little bit you went off about a couple of minutes ago about hiding and all that?  Just for my amusement?  I don't find that too amusing."

"Yes, Jack, this is all fun and games for me.  Now leave me alone."

"No, I don't think so.  Leaving you alone is not an option this time."

Daniel didn't really know how to answer, but felt his anger outweigh the shock. What he should have said was how grateful he was for Jack's continued support, especially now.  That's really what he should have said.

Of course he didn't.

How difficult was it to try to console a man that couldn't remember the man he used to be? Would he be so patient if their roles were reversed?  And what was he thinking? Jack was never patient. Ever. Everything was always on Jack's terms. Why did Jack have to grate at his nerves so much?  If he wanted to be alone, he wanted to be alone.

"Why?  Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Because I know deep down, it's not what you want."

"How the hell do you know what I want?"

"Daniel…"

"Jack!  I can't do this anymore!" he cried suddenly, feeling his body tremble.  "I can't rest.  I can't sleep.  It's all flashbacks that hurt, and come together.  I can't tell whatever is real or imagined, or what I am doing anymore!  I don't even make any sense!"

"You got to let it go, Daniel," Jack told him, his voice softening a notch.  "You can't keep fighting this or you're going to hurt yourself."

"Fight what? What am I fighting?"

"Oh, I think you know.  We both know."

Daniel did not answer, but he felt his heart thumping hard. Suddenly, feeling restless, he didn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to get up and walk away and at the same time, he didn't want to leave.

I am insane, he told himself.  I have really lost my mind this time.

Choking back a sob, he dropped his head into his hands.  He hated being like this.  He hated feeling so weak.  He hated that others saw him this way.

"Daniel?"

He shook his head, trying to give Jack the hint, but didn't know how successful he'd been in the dark.

"Hey, you know, people hate change.  They try to fight it.  Some people are better at handling it than others," Jack said softly. "You've always handled change rather well, better than the rest of us. If you stop fighting, fighting everything, you'll be okay."

Words of wisdom from Jack.  What alien virus had poisoned him this time? He must have really screwed up for Jack to drop the dumb façade and get right to the point.  With a sigh, Daniel dropped his head down between his knees, wrapping his arms around his body.

"Problem is…I don't really remember what I was like. Fully."

I don’t want to be that person!

"Look, Daniel." He felt a hesitant grip on his shoulder.  "I really haven't a clue what is going on in that big head of yours unless you share. But I can take a guess.  I know…I know that there is a lot about you, you before what happened, that isn't pretty.  I know that.  I wish we could take it all back. But it's there and you got to face it." He cleared his throat. "Once you do. Once it's over…well, I mean—ultimately, you're the one to decide right?  You can't ignore all the events and stuff that made you, you can't ever forget it, but you can decide whether you move on and overcome that stuff, or whether you stay stuck in that forever."

Daniel choked back a sob, but at the same time, he felt strangely light. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Awestruck…

Jack wasn't just spewing out words to make him feel better.  He just wasn't preaching information he'd read somewhere in a Reader's Digest.  He wasn't even just speaking the words of a mourning friend.

These were words based in experience.

Charles Tyler O'Neill. Charlie.

It was something they never really talked about, he remembered, feeling the chill of old memories creeping up his spine.  Just an understanding between the two of them.  Sure, by now, many people knew what had happened to Charlie and the grief and turmoil that Jack had gone through, but not many people really understood the extent of that grief. Daniel had been able to remember fairly early the focus of that grief, and the reasoning behind Jack's enlistment for the first Abydos mission, and he cursed himself for talking about it in such a detached and curious manner.  He couldn't help it. Any information had been new to him, and he had relished it with great enthusiasm. Any amnesiac would.

But he hadn't been able to comprehend the depth, or the meaning that was attached to it. To some extent, he still couldn't and most of it was a haze, well beyond even a distant memory. But bits of it were returning, and he could appreciate the power and wisdom that Jack was capable of possessing.

Now, why didn't he just show it more often?

 "Daniel?"

He couldn't answer him. He couldn't possibly answer to that.

He was the one to decide. His decision.  In the end, he could be who he wanted to be.  Sounded so cliché. Maybe there were deep truths hidden in clichés. Maybe that's why Jack seemed to live and breathe them.

"Hey, Daniel?"  He was shaking his arm.  "You alright there?"

So, he could really decide.  Control.

He was in control.

"I'm in control," he repeated, this time aloud.

"Control? Yeah, no kidding.  You've always been," Jack admitted, causing Daniel to turn his head. "And if anyone says otherwise, then they're an asshole."

Daniel replied with a short chuckle.

"Hey, not kidding," Jack answered, taking advantage of the shift in Daniel's mood. "You never follow my orders and you have this annoying habit of always being right."

"Not always," Daniel whispered, hoping his appreciation and sincerity shone through his voice.

Jack didn't answer that one.

Why was it neither of them could take a compliment?  Why instead did they always seem to fight, bicker and squabble?

Maybe because that was their way to show how much they cared?

God, he was more dysfunctional than he initially thought. The journals and reports never covered details such as these.

Breathing out, he stared into the darkness and made a decision. His decision.

I'm in control, he reasserted to himself.

"Jack?" he began, suddenly angry and embarrassed that his voice was weak and cracking.

 "Yeah?"

"Close the door."

 "Excuse me?"

Inhaling deeply, he bit his lip and nodded to himself. Okay, you can do this. "I said, close the door.  Close the door and keep the lights off."

"O-kay… Mind explaining why?"

"I will," he answered, nearly whispering.

Jack obliged without further question. Amazed, Daniel sat is silence, wondering how he had earned the other man's complete trust.  It was like faith, at this point.

"Okay." Jack had returned, through some stumbling, and seated himself next to Daniel. "Now explain?"

"You're right, Jack." Don't lose your nerve, he told himself. "I can't go on like this."

"Daniel."

Now, that was a warning tone. Jack had become nervous. There was no doubt in his mind.

Pushing away the throbbing pain that pulsed in his head, Daniel continued. "No, not like that. Don't-don't worry." He bit his lip, feeling the insecurities chasing after him.  He quickly shut them out. "I can't-I can't fight anymore.  I can't run anymore.  I want to, but I can't."

"It's easier to run," Jack said softly. "But we both know you're stronger than just running."

"Thanks," Daniel said weakly. Fight or flight, it was called. Perfectly natural reaction. "I know."

"So?"

Daniel froze again, feeling a shiver touch the nape of his neck. No, he was wrong. He couldn't do this.  He couldn't face this.

I don’t want to be that person!

"I'm scared," he blurted out quickly, before he had a chance to withdraw into himself.

"I know." Jack's hand was on his shoulder, again, and he was greeted with a comforting and reassuring squeeze. "Change is scary."

"More like terrifying." He swallowed hard, wringing his hands together nervously. He could do this.  He had to do this. Come on…

"Jack, I'm afraid I am not going to like myself.  In fact, I know I am not going to like what I was before I died. Things were bad, and you can't deny that."

"No," he said, his voice hollow.  "I can't."

"I-I can't deal with being unable to live--?"

"What?"

"What if I can't meet everyone's expectations?" he blurted out abruptly.

"Whoa. What?" Jack's voice had the distinct sound of pain in it. "Expectations? What do you think I am, some sort of dictator or something?"

"Don't-don't make light of this. Don't act dumb now," Daniel muttered. "I just-I just don't want to mess things up."

"Keep obsessing on it, and you will," Jack muttered. "You think too much.  What did I just say?  You got to let it go."

"What if we pick up right where we'd left off?  Would it have been worth me coming back?"

He instantly regretted those words.

"Don’t you ever, EVER, say anything like that again, do you hear me?" Jack growled angrily, the darkness in his voice matching the room. There was a rage in that voice that made Daniel cower. Almost.

"But, see? What if this is it?" Daniel stated, unable to stop himself.  "What if this is what will continue if I—"

"Daniel, I don't want to hear it." Now his voice was shaking. "We didn't just find you on some strange planet for no reason at all!  Look, everyone, and I mean everyone, has their ups and downs. Even the wonderful Doctor Jackson.  We had our moments.  We all have. Oh, and I am sure we'll keep having them, too. I hate it as much as you, but it's normal, Daniel. Normal.  Now, you've got to get that through your head or you'll never, ever, feel whole ever again.  Do you get it?"

He couldn't.  Why couldn't he wrap his brain around this concept?  Supposedly, he could speak well over twenty-three languages, had multiple degrees, and had been referred to on more than one occasion as a walking encyclopedia…but he could not grasp such a simple concept?

 "I can't!" Daniel cried exasperated.  "What if—"

"No what if's, Daniel.  Save that for the field. Save that for your research.  Stop living in some limbo world and pull your act together."

"Pull my act together?" Now, he was livid.  How dare he speak to him that way? "How dare—" He caught himself before he even finished vocalizing the thought. They were fighting again.  Again!

"See? God, we're fighting again."

 "Daniel…"

 "No, don't. Just don't."  He held his head, sizing up the pain. No, he wouldn't succumb.

 "Look at you.  You can't live like this way. You know that you can't.  You're smarter than—"

"Jack! I don't want to go back!  I was losing myself!" he yelled.  "I was losing myself. Everything that I ever was. Nothing was important anymore. Nothing!  Can't you understand that?  Sha're was gone. Shifu was gone. Sarah was gone. Everyone was gone.  Everything I held dear. And us?  What happened to us?  And Sam? And Teal'c? God, it was awful. Awful." Daniel was appalled.  He just couldn't stop.  It was as if someone had taken control of his mouth and would not relinquish control. "We used to be a team. We used to work together.  We all valued each other. Not in the end. No, not at all. It was all wrong somehow. I don't know how. Did you even hear some of the things coming out of my mouth?  I sounded like you!  God, I was turning into you.  You, of all people. I lost myself. We were all blurring into each other. Where was I? What happened to my individuality?"

Daniel stopped, allowing himself to catch his breath. Where the hell had that all come from?

"It's good to know how you finally feel," Jack said quietly.

Great, now look at the damage he had caused.

"I-I-no, I didn't mean it that way." He bit his lip, struggling for words. "You're-you're an experienced and capable leader. More than capable, really.  You're seasoned, and intelligent. Your wit and cleverness are why the Asgard love you so much."

"And all this time, I thought it was because of my ass," he joked.

"Stop interrupting." He exhaled. "I'm-I'm serious.  It's also why Hammond trusts you so much. Why Teal'c respects you. Why Sam admires you."

"And you?"

 "I…I think…um."

"You're so eloquent when you speak.  Now, I know why you're the linguist on the team."

Daniel sighed, massaging his throbbing temples. Jack was hurting. His voice cut with painful sarcasm. This was too much.

All too much.

Just push it away. Push it…

What was he doing?

 Dizzy…

He awoke to find Jack's arms around him, while his head rested lazily on the older man's shoulder.  Moaning, Daniel tried to move, bringing his hand to his head.

"Passed out?"

"Yeah," Jack answered, none too pleased. "Now, you’re starting to scare me here."

"I scare myself," he muttered. Sighing, he pinched his nose, fighting against the lightheadedness he felt. "But sometimes it brings clarity."

"Really…starting to scare me. You got a headache? Damn, why didn't you say something?  Let's get you to the infirmary."

"No."

"No?"

"No."  He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift momentarily. Not only was Jack right about his fears, but also Jack was right about his memories. Not that he wanted to admit it. Ever. But Jack deserved the credit at least once in awhile.

"I-I think you're right."

"It's about time," Jack glowered, tugging at Daniel's waist.  "Now get up so we can get you back to the infirmary."

"No."

"No? Dammit, you just said—"

"No." He paused, his throat feeling like sandpaper. "I think I don't want to remember."

Jack remained quiet for a minute. Daniel said nothing to draw him out of his silence.

But it was true, wasn't it?  At first, he'd tried so hard to remember who he was and hit nothing but a stone wall.  He'd admitted to Sam that he had been nervous, that maybe he didn't want to remember who he was. Yet in the end, strengthened by her words and Jack's words, he'd agreed to leave Vis Uban and had come back to Earth with them.

Daniel thought he'd left that all behind him on Vis Uban.

Apparently not.

Why had Oma Desala wiped his memories anyway?  Had she?  Or was he responsible?  Maybe something they both had agreed on?  He barely remembered Oma Desala or her teachings of love and wisdom, but based on his notes and the impressions of his teammates, she seemed to care deeply for him.  If that was the case, why this?

Could something else have gone wrong? Maybe she didn't want this to happen, but it had anyway? Had the Others intervened?

Maybe he never was supposed to have lost his memory and his subconscious held too much guilt and blocked them out? Maybe this was only temporary, so Oma could save face, and still watch over those she had helped to ascend?

Daniel choked, remembering the reports he'd read about Abydos and its inhabitants. Even though he couldn't remember well, he knew he felt close to Skaara and Kasuf, and the impact of his failure curled his stomach into knots. No one knew he knew. He was quite good at keeping it a secret.  He hoped beyond all hope that they were all happy and safe now, and hoped that one day he could thank Oma for saving them where he had failed.

Failure. The fear of failure…was this what was holding him back?

It often feels like the memories are right there in front of me, just out of reach, he thought, thinking back to his many conversations with his friends.

They aren't out of reach, he realized.  They are just waiting for him to accept them and he kept refusing it.

I could have ended this long ago.  What am I doing?

"Alright," he said, feeling a little stronger. "I've decided."

"So, that's it then?" Jack's voice was biting. "That's your choice? Not to remember?"

"Noo," Daniel dragged out, releasing himself from Jack's grip.  "I'm ready to accept it. All of it."

"Really?"

"No, not really," Daniel admitted. Exhaling nervously, he slid to the floor, resting his head on the cold concrete. "But it's something I have to do.  Or you'll have to lock me up in Mental Health for real this time."

"Okay, that's not funny." There was a pause. "Daniel, what are you doing?"

"Getting ready," he answered simply. Daniel stretched out his arms and situated them next to his torso, and elongated his legs, so he was flat on the ground. "I'm going to need your help."

"Mind sharing?"

Daniel cracked his back and exhaled again.  Boy, he was nervous.

"My memories are right there, Jack. Just waiting for me and I keep blocking them out.  I'm scared," he admitted again, before Jack could interrupt him. "Very scared. But I have to do this.  I have to let them come.  I don't-I don't know what will happen and I need someone I can trust to hold me down in case I get out of control." Now his voice was starting to crack. "Okay? Can you do that, please?"

"Sure," he said softly. "I can do it."

Carefully, almost hesitantly, Jack moved on top on him, pinning Daniel's arms to the ground, and then holding Daniel's legs together between his knees.

"You do know if anyone walks in on us…"

Daniel chuckled. More blackmail material on the already "in-neck-deep" Colonel O'Neill.

"Just tell them you're doing CPR."

"Yeah, that'd work."  Daniel heard a soft crack and a moan. Jack started to rub one of his knees. "You so owe me when this is over."

"I'll pay you back, don’t worry." Daniel sighed.

 "You okay?  You ready for this?"

 "No."

"Good, just checking." He paused, stopping to touch Daniel's arm. "So, what? Do you just like flick a switch or…"

"I have no idea." He suppressed the fluttering in his stomach. "I'm going to close my eyes now and see what happens."

 "Say hi to Dorothy for me."

"Sure…"

Daniel allowed himself to drift, moving over and through the pain in his head, and past the light airy feeling that danced around his body.

It was warm, fuzzy, almost electric and made him invisible…no different.

The skull? The skull had done this to him?

Nick, no, please don't go Nick…

No? Not the skull? It was a device. To walk through walls. He was walking with Omac.  It was incredible. Incredible…To the child, through the wall. He was there. So beautiful and so bright, so innocent. He could see Sha're in his eyes, in everything about him. Teaching him. Teaching him the truth about the power of the Goa'uld. Shifu had ascended. Oma would care for him. Oma and her power, her might and wisdom protecting the child. Like lightning in the sky. Down hard on the Jaffa below. But it was the Canon, and he had some ring that sent down the charge. Was it?

No, just a scabbed knee. He'd fallen. She was there, his mother, picking him up and cradling him softly. Soft, a blanket, so comforting during the desert nights. His father, reading to him. But, no, there was hard, aching…

The pain…the pain, like torture. It stuck to his mouth, the Blood of Sokar. Bleeding, he was bleeding everywhere, puck marks all over his skin. Like fire. The fires of hell.

No, he would never tell. Not through the pain. Never. Never give away that Teal'c was off with Nyan, no matter how they tortured him. Never even with the memory recall device. No, he wouldn't say.

A prisoner here. With Hathor. God, not Hathor again. Her lips, her touch…Ke'ra? Shyla? Hadante prison. The smells, the despair. All prisoners. In Netu. Trapped in hell. Captured by Klorel on his ship, heading for Earth.

No, he wouldn't let it happen. He had to get back to his own reality. How could he? Trapped here, the evening meal for some Unas. Chaka…captured.  This was his fault. All his fault…Sha're, please forgive…

But the pain…the infirmary?  Oh, his appendix. Jack and Sam were missing. Never came through the Gate. He would find them, he swore. He swore to find Sha're and Skaara. They would help Jack. He wouldn't die, an old man. Never. He actually agreed with Jack—Teal'c would not be sacrificed at the Cor-ai. His plea, his impassioned argument. The Tollan still refuse? But he was persistent.  He kept asking the Nox questions, repeatedly.

The young do not always do as they are told…Cassie? Cassandra sent them back through the Gate, to their own time. Time? 1969? Where? Abydos? Cimmeria? Where??

No, Chicago. Steven. Sarah.

Osiris.

No, not right. His parents?? Why! Why replay this over and over in his mind? Like cheap software. New software…He would not leave him this way. He would not leave Jack alone with the knowledge of the Ancients. He would never leave him like this.

And as Janet cried and struggled over the possible loss of her daughter, he would be there. He was always there. Teal'c had confided in him. He told Sam he was always there to talk. Jack, in pain over the death of Teal'c.

Teal'c is alive! Apophis? Brainwashed. Where had they been? Therra? Tor? Jonah? No, Jack…

Daniel cried out, the pain and agony ripping through him.  What? What was it? So painful. His head.  Clenching his teeth, his forced his gaze upward, to the light and into…

A ribbon device. Sarah! No, Osiris. Klorel, it was Klorel. Damn Goa'uld, release Skaara!  Ra? No, it was Osiris. Ra was killing him. Ammonet…Oh God, Sha're, no not this way. 

My Daniel, hear me…

Sha're, no, please Sha're don't die and leave me…

Death. All around him. The stench…

Body pounding, the alarms blaring. It needed to be disabled.  Jack, Sam, Teal'c—they would all die.  All these people would die. He fired repeatedly, breaking through the shattering glass.

No more death. Daniel ran and darted between Ra's Jaffa and Colonel O'Neill, waving his arms.

Staff blast…a flare. Cutting…searing…

"Jack!"

Dying, he was dying. Jack stood there, his face frozen, seized with pain, knowing the truth, knowing there was no hope. Jack didn't want to leave him. He never left anyone behind. God, the pain was numbing him…

"I'll stay…and watch your back," Daniel whispered.

 I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying…

"Stop killing me!"

Sarcophagus. Klorel's…Dragging this dead weight.

Where? Shyla has a sarcophagus? Wait no, not dead? He checked his body. Ra's ship…it could save Sha're…

"Wait for me."

No…no…I need it. I need it. They’re killing me.  I need to go back. Why can't they see it? I need it!

The light…so beautiful…

"…can't get it back…"

Stop! No! The pain. It hurts. It hurts so much. So numb…Oma…

Oma…Oma Desala…Oma…Omaroca! The pain, like needles…Omaroca!

"I believe my entire life has been a failure."

 NO!

"I want to go with you."

Warmth, kindness… a way to escape the pain and the hopelessness. The despair.  All those he cared about. All those he loved. All those he reached out to—nothing but death and loneliness. Nothing but death and failure. Disappointment.  He's disappointed them all.

"You stupid son of a bitch," he muttered, sobbing over Reese's body.

Peace and sincerity…a place to finally belong, to make change, to do something worthwhile.

I don't want to be that person!

The pain! Pain…

He sobbed, crying as the pain tore through him. He was bleeding, the sores, he could barely breathe…choking…blood…

Oma, why? Why?

He continued to sob, feeling as if the pain would finally tear him in two. Sam was crying. Teal'c…Jack admired him?

"Spacemonkey."

Oh God, Oh God…

His skin so raw. Medication could not help anymore. Bubbling, festering, his lungs were filling…

"I'll be seeing you around, Doctor Jackson."

He was shaking. He was dying. He was surely dying. Jack was reaching for him…holding him. Stop, stop killing me, he thought…Soothing me. He was soothing him. Calming him in the throes of darkness, through the addiction. But Oma was calling for him. This failed experiment known as his life would end now.

I am not going to be that person!

Daniel screamed out as the throbbing seized him, and he jerked, before slumping into quiet nothingness.

Release your burden…

"Wha-?" Daniel breathed, trying to swat the spots from his eyes. He was shaking, trembling uncontrollably, his heart thumping as if it would leap from his chest. He couldn't tell if he was sitting, or standing, or lying down and felt like he was floating. Through mud, that is. No, not mud.  He was wrapped in a blanket. In white gauze.

Then, a sudden cold shiver ran down his spine. The smell of sweat, plastic, the biting taste of iron in his mouth…

I'm dying!

He tensed, clutching desperately to the warmth, the life in front of him.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?" Daniel asked, muffled as he talked into the older man's shoulder. He felt a swell of panic. "I don't want to die," he said, nearly choking.

"Yeah, it's me," Jack answered, though his voice was quiet. Far-off. Distant…"You're not dying. Not this time."

"No, there's no other way," he whispered, holding on tightly. The ache, the hollowness. "I'm sorry."

"Not dying, Daniel," Jack said softly.  "You're here with me at the SGC. Alive and well. Remember?"

Daniel frowned, pulling through his muddled thoughts.

"Where am I?"

"Uh…" Jack hesitated, causing Daniel's heart to thunder nervously. "You don't remember?" he asked cautiously.

"No. I mean, yeah…" He answered, some of the panic subsiding as the cool chill of fatigue took control.  "Just dizzy."

"Then, let me lie you down."

"Lie down?" Daniel forced his sleepy eyes open, trying to make sense of his surroundings through the darkness. Wasn't he lying down already?

"You’re one hard man to hold down," Jack admitted.

He realized at this point he was clutching Jack, his fingers digging into the older man's arms and now sweat soaked shirt.

Daniel was a sopping mess.

"Oh," Daniel whispered. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. Lie down."

"Are you sitting on me?"

Jack sighed, an irritated sigh. "My knees gave out.  You asked me to do this."

Daniel felt Jack release him, gently placing him on the cool concrete floor. "I asked you to hold me down in case I needed it.  Not to sit on me and cut off my circulation." Daniel grunted. "I don't think I'll ever feel my legs again."

"Sorry."

He thought he heard Jack mutter something to the effect of "ungrateful" or "bitchy."

With a sigh, Daniel closed his eyes, bringing his hands to his face to wipe off the beads of sweat that had formed there. He felt cold, and hot, tired, but energetic and amazingly clean and clear.

"So, uh, Daniel?" The nervousness was back. "What's the verdict?"

"The Wonderful Wizard sends his regards."

"Oh does he? What about Dorothy?"

"She ran off with the Scarecrow."

"Damn," Jack swore. "I guess she's just too young for me. Though, she's probably two timing him with the Cowardly Lion."

Daniel attempting to chuckle, but coughed instead. "You do realize we're talking about the sex lives of fictional movie characters in the storeroom of a military base underneath a mountain."

"So we are. Imagine that."

"Yeah."

After that, Daniel held his silence, taking a few moments to clear his head.  Still somewhat jumbled, like a puzzle missing some pieces, but surprisingly in tact. And the pain? Gone. No more headache. He hadn't gone insane. To his knowledge.

He sighed.  It was going to take quite some time to process all these feelings and information.

But Jack was waiting. What could he possibly say?

"I'm sorry," Daniel said at last.

"Sorry?" Daniel heard another cracking sound, along with swearing, as Jack slid down to sit beside him. "Why are you apologizing? It's just a little sweat."

"You know what I mean," Daniel said wearily, fanning his body with his damp shirt. "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for everything. The grief that I caused. The trouble I got us into."

"Or the times you saved our asses…"

 With a smile, Daniel rested his arms by his side.  The good times and the bad, right?

"I guess I've-I've been a little blind," He continued, his voice nearly inaudible, even to himself. "Things had gotten so bad that I didn't realize how much I could hurt everyone by leaving. But, by the same token, you do understand that I didn't have much choice, right?  If I had stayed, I would have been a cripple, Jack.  I didn't think I could contribute much that way."

"I know," he said quietly.

"And don't feel guilty about the Kelownan naquadria bomb. Someone had to do it or we would have all died."

"Might have knocked some sense into those damn—"

"Jack…"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He paused and Daniel thought he heard a more severe curse. "It's just…a bad judgment call on my part. I should have—"

"What?  You should have done it? What good would that have done?" Daniel pointed out. "Then you would be dead. And if you'd left Teal'c or Sam, then they would be dead too. It was a no win situation. I just got lucky that Oma Desala had been watching me."

"I wouldn't call it just luck," Jack muttered. "You're just…better than us."

Better? Daniel blinked. Grumbling, he rolled onto his side, trying to muster enough strength to press himself to his feet. Jack simply eased him back down.

"Don't," Daniel said, but didn't resist the comfort of lying down. "Don't belittle yourself like that."

"It's true."

"No, it isn't. Sam's brilliant. Teal'c is brave. And you're…"

 "What?"

Daniel swore, feeling the coolness prick at his neck. He was a linguist.  An expert on several cultures. He could tell you all you need to know about ancient Egyptian cooking habits. And yet, he could not seem to mutter anything coherent when it came to feelings and compliments?

Dysfunctional just wasn't the right word.

"Uh. Let's just say that in the middle of a bad—uh, real nasty situation, I, uh, I wouldn't want anyone else by my, um—you know. Side."

Jack was silent. Then he started to snigger.

"Hey, I'm not good at this stuff."

"Neither am I, but that was just bad. Remind me never to recommend you for any more speech writing."

"Jack, you really are an ass."

"Thank you.  At least that made sense."

There was another long pause between them, but it suited Daniel just fine.  That was their way. Between the bickering and the long pauses, and the glares and heartfelt glances, they had an understanding.  They always did. It's just sometimes feelings, events, and the hard times got in the way.

Not anymore. He couldn’t allow that anymore.

He felt as if something had finally been lifted from him, and that maybe he really was going to be okay. Someday.

"So, really, you okay?"

"Think so," Daniel answered, rubbing his eyes. "I've got most—" He made a gesture with his head and then stopped, realizing they were in darkness. "Most of it's here, just some holes." He frowned. "Nothing from when I was Ascended, though."

"Give it time."

"Yeah." He breathed out, feeling suddenly very worn and fatigued. "It's going to take time, isn’t it? You, me, the team. Everything."

"Yeah. But it'll be okay. Time will make it better, right?"

Like a second chance. Or a new start.  He could handle that.

"Now, just lie still and I am going to call a medical team to bring you back. Must be going crazy wondering where the hell we went."

"Okay. But no wheelchair. I don't want to be wheeled out of here."

Within minutes, a medical team had flooded the storeroom, checking his vitals and poking him with he couldn't remember how many needles. Janet was asking him a myriad of questions, and he answered in kind, even though his mind was elsewhere.

Was that a stretcher? No, that was even more embarrassing than the wheelchair.

Mumbling, Daniel protested as he was placed on the stretcher, nearly pleading to the staff that he was in perfect health.

Janet had them trained well. They would not budge.

But even his protests were weak, as he turned his attention to Jack. He was standing near by, barking some orders to some of Janet's nursing staff, ticking off Janet in the process.

Some things would never change.

Daniel smiled. Jack said it would be okay. Jack trusted him, and had faith in Daniel to overcome this slump. If that was the case, then he was confident that he would pull himself out of this. This was his second chance.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?" he asked, coming to walk beside him. "What's the matter?"

"What I said before, about, uh…" He licked his lips. "Uh, about you. That wasn't entirely true," he whispered. "There are a lot of things I admire…like your leadership skills.  We can't help but rub off on each other, I guess. I was just angry that I was losing an important part of myself somewhere along the way."

"Doc!" Jack yelled, but with a sly smirk in Daniel's direction. "What did you give him?  He's babbling nonsense here."

Daniel frowned, arching his eyebrows as he regarded Jack curiously.

"Can't copy what you've already got, right?"

His smile was devious.

Grinning, Daniel gave him the thumbs up sign before effectively passing out from exhaustion.

Yes, he was truly going to be just fine.

 ~Epilogue~ (After "Orpheus")

Daniel ran his hand over a Swedish pendant he'd acquired years ago, given to him by a colleague from his undergraduate days.  The pendant depicted what he had concluded to be Freyja, who was in turn wearing a beautiful gold necklace called the Brisingamen, a wonderful treasure supposedly created by handy dwarves.

As he stared at the craftsmanship of the pendant, he couldn't help but think back to the K'tau and how they were faring.  How had they adapted after overcoming the near disaster to their planet? If they were to study the pendant he held now, what would they think? Did they recognize Freyja, wife of Freyr? How did gender work in the Asgard society? And who were the dwarves? Another race? Or just myth, like the time the K'tau thought they were elves?

Sighing, Daniel placed the metal accessory in soft tissue paper, wrapping it carefully.  He would probably never know, he thought dejectedly as he slowly placed the artifact in a cardboard box. The nature of his position just didn't allow him to have everything. He learned to accept that fact long ago.

But he would never trade his place on the flagship SG team for anything else in the world. At least, not anymore.

"Hey, here."

Daniel paused, listening to the whispering outside his quarters on base. Quietly, he walked to the end of the room, and focused his attention to the conversation outside.

"Sir?"

"Here, I said. You give it."

"You want me to give Daniel a box of chocolates?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Well, you're a girl and all. It should come from you."

"A woman," she emphasized staunchly. "And that shouldn’t matter.  Why don’t you give it to him?  People will talk if I do it."

"More people will talk if I do it, so you do it," Jack hissed.

"I do not understand this ritual," Teal'c interjected.

"Often here in the States, and some other countries, people give each other chocolates as a sign of affection, or to make amends for something they might have done wrong," Sam explained.

"For which reason are we giving DanielJackson chocolates?"

"Uh, for both, I guess," Jack said quietly. "I wasn't too pleased with his Ascension talk lately."

Quietness had overcome his friends, and Daniel suddenly felt a twinge of guilt prick at his brain.  He had not really understood just how deeply his friends had missed him while he was gone, or even realized his worth to the team and the SGC.

Things had been going well since he'd returned, and especially since he'd accepted his past and his memories, but when the first of his Ascended memories began to nag at him…

Sometimes he just could be so blind. Sometimes he didn't think before he spoke.

"You speak of the imprisonment of Rya'c and Bra'tac," Teal'c stated.

"Well, no. Not exactly. Believe me, Teal'c, I'm glad that worked out for the best. I just mean--I thought we'd gotten past all that I-could-have-done-more-if-I-were-Ascended crap."

"I'm sure Daniel is just trying to adjust, sir," Sam said, her voice sounding as if she was reassuring herself.

"I believe that he has."

"Excuse me?"

"Just recently, DanielJackson confided in me that he had believed he could accomplish more if he were Ascended."

"We already knew that, Teal'c," Sam said pointedly.

"However, DanielJackson also informed me that he has realized this was not the case and that he has found that he truly does belong here with the SGC."

"Really?" Sam asked hopefully, her voice cutting through Daniel.

"Indeed," Teal'c responded.

"He told you that? For real? Why did he tell you?" Jack asked, almost defensive. "Hey, why are you just telling us now?"

"DanielJackson provided me with this information in confidence.  I only speak of it now due to the nature of this conversation."

"Wow," Sam said.

"Yeah, that's, uh, good to know. So, about these chocolates…"

"I do not see the problem, O'Neill." There was a pause. "If these chocolates are a symbol of love and affection, then I would be honored to present DanielJackson with such a gift."

Daniel couldn't help but smile.

"Usually, it's sort of done in a romantic way," Jack added.

 "I see."

"Yeah, so…here you go, Carter. Have fun."

"No, I-Sir? This box is heart shaped."

"So?"

"So? Valentine's Day was months ago." He heard shuffling. "You’re giving Daniel old chocolate?"

"It's chocolate!  It's perfectly fine. He won't taste the difference. I doubt they have much chocolate Upstairs."

"Upstairs?" Teal'c questioned.

"Sir…is this box taped?  It is taped!" she exclaimed in a huff.  "You opened this."

"Those bastards," Jack muttered. "I paid good money for that chocolate."

"So, not only are you giving Daniel old chocolate, probably bought on discount, you opened it too?" She snorted. "Remind me never to accept any gifts from you."

"Indeed. A true gift is not often tampered with before presentation, O'Neill."

"Yeah, but what do you know?" Jack bit sarcastically. "It's the thought that counts."

Stifling all out laughter, Daniel chewed on his lip.  He really couldn't take much more of this.  He had to end this debacle now.

Opening the door, Daniel faked a surprised gasp, staring at the chocolate box caught between Sam and Jack's hands.

"Is that chocolate?" he asked.

"Hi, Daniel," Sam greeted sheepishly.

"Of course it's chocolate," Jack said while he rolled his eyes. "How long have you been listening?"

Daniel ignored him, taking the box from their hands and unwrapping the red wrap that covered the casing. He couldn't help but chuckle as he ripped off the crude tape Jack had plastered all over the backside of the heart. Once he had managed to make his way through the tangled mess, he opened the box itself, scanning over the variety of chocolates inside.

"Uh…"

Sam's mouth dropped open and she looked into the box.  "Sir? You ate some?"

"Huh?  You mean there are some missing?" Jack asked offhandedly, peering into the box.

"You ate all the creams, Jack."

"What? Me?" He pulled his most innocent face. Then, it darkened as he regarded Daniel carefully. "How the hell can you tell just by looking?"

Daniel glared at him.

"Right, I forgot. Mr. Archaeologist here is an expert on excavating chocolate boxes."

"I've seen a lot in my career," Daniel mumbled, picking through the box. He sighed. "Caramels."

"I love caramels," Sam said with a grin, popping one in her mouth.

"And the coconut ones are there, too." Jack informed him.

"No one likes coconut, sir."

"What is this coconut of which you speak?"

Jack eyed the box and pointed.  Daniel shook his head and motioned to a different chocolate. Jack nodded, rolling his eyes, and handed the selected candy to Teal'c. "Coconut. Here, try it."

Teal'c eyed him suspiciously. "If you will not partake of the coconut, then why shall I?"

"Different strokes for different folks," Jack answered.

Teal'c stared at him.

"He means, people have different tastes and appetites, so you might like it." Daniel motioned with a slight nod of his head to the candy Teal'c held. "I've eaten coconut before. It’s not my favorite, but it's not bad."

Teal'c seemed to consider this, and carefully placed the chocolate in his mouth. "This coconut of which you speak is most…" Teal'c chewed some more. "The coconut has a interesting texture." His face soured. "And a most displeasing flavor."

"Oh, well," Jack said. "That happ—"

All three of them stared, mouths open, as Teal'c removed the soggy piece from his mouth and placed it back in the box.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Teal'c, you don't put it back!"

"Well, I guess then we've all had enough chocolate for the day," Daniel announced, turning his heels as he re-entered his room.  He placed the box on the table, and allowed enough room for the others to follow him. "So, what can I do for you?"

Jack scratched his neck, looking around Daniel's base quarters. "We just came by to, you know…"

"The colonel wanted to give you chocolate," Sam said with a grin.

Jack shot her a look that could only be described as murderous.

"I appreciate the chocolate, guys. I really do."

"Good," Jack said with a smirk, rocking on his heels. "Glad to hear."

"Even if you ate all the creams."

Sam chuckled, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Hey, Daniel, if it makes you feel better, I'll order you a whole box of imported—" Her voice cut off suddenly as she stared at one of the tables that furnished his room.

Jack and Teal'c were eyeing the table now as well.

"Going somewhere, Daniel?" Jack asked guardedly.

"Uh…" His gaze settled on a cardboard box, filled with some of his personal belongings. "No."

"No, huh? Good to know you're on the ball with the honesty bit," Jack muttered angrily.

"I'm just organizing," Daniel told him. "I'm not going anywhere just yet."

"Yet?" Sam asked nervously.  She stopped, frowning, as she sifted through some newspaper on the bed. "Ads? Are you looking for an apartment?"

"Not exactly…"

Now, Sam, Teal'c and Jack were all exchanging nervous glances.  He sighed. Daniel supposed to would take some time before they were completely comfortable with him again and realized he had no intention of leaving.

"Actually, I was thinking about a house."

"A house?" Jack's jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"Wow, Daniel, a house? That's a big step for you," Sam told him, flipping through a real estate book he had ordered.

"Yeah, I know," he said almost shyly. "But, I was looking for something…Well, I was looking for something more permanent."

"Permanent," Jack repeated, a pleased smile tugging at his lips. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too," Daniel agreed, gazing at him sincerely. He truly meant what he said.

"Then, if that's the case…" Sam flipped through more pages in the book. "We've got to plan this out completely. First, we'll sort through the ones that you like the most.  Then, we'll look at the ones in your price range. Next, we'll compare and contrast, and make a list of pros and cons so…"

Daniel shot Jack a pleading look, blocking out Sam as she continued her lecture on real estate pricing. He nodded, passing a knowing look, and intervened.

"Uh, Carter? Why don't you leave the house hopping to me."

"Sir?" She frowned, not quite understanding the hint in his voice. "All I need to do is call this friend of my brother Mark…"

"Which I am sure is great and all, but why don't you leave the house hunting to me," Jack said again.  "You can take on his wardrobe."

"Um, excuse me?" Daniel asked.

"Wardrobe?" Sam seemed to consider the thought. "That might actually be fun. Janet and I know this great place in town."

"What's wrong with my clothes now?" Daniel asked defensively.

"Yeah, just make sure you don't pick out any more plaids. He's got enough of those. And please, no more tweed."

"I like tweed. What's wrong with tweed anyway?" Daniel crossed his arms. "And my wardrobe has much more variety to it than when I first started working here, so I don't know what your problem is."

God, he was talking about his clothes. This had to stop.

"If Major Carter will be choosing clothing for DanielJackson, and you will be preparing housing, how shall I be of assistance?"

"Uh, Teal'c, guys, it's okay, I don't—"

Jack shrugged, glancing at Sam, and then back to Teal'c. "Don't know. What about food?  You want to handle food?"

"I need a house before I can buy food," Daniel pointed out.  How all of a sudden had he been kicked out of this conversation?

"Food is acceptable."

"Though, Daniel would need a refrigerator first before we could purchase any food.  And a house," Sam reminded them.

"I just said that."

"Okay, then, Teal'c.  You can handle furniture."

"I need a house—"

"And the food." Jack turned to Daniel. "Okay with you?"

Daniel blinked at him. Since when had they completely taken over everything?

The three of them waited expectantly, anticipating his next move. Daniel shrugged, throwing his hands up in the air.  What was the point in arguing anyway?  They had already decided. Besides, even if he didn't want to admit it, he enjoyed the attention, and he knew this made them feel closer to him, and helped them fight any insecurity they still might harbor.

"Fine." He paused, taking a moment to carefully wrap a Greek stamnos depicting Apollo as he played his cithara. "Teal'c has good taste anyway."

"Have you even eaten his food?" Jack asked incredulously.

Daniel glanced at Teal'c—and his cool gaze at Jack—before he finished packing the wine jar. "I wasn't talking about the food. I am talking about his taste in furniture."

"You into all that candle stuff?" Jack made a face.

"No, but I have seen a lot of the furniture on Chulak.  And I enjoyed what I saw on Tuplo's planet. And Cimmeria…"

"Okay. Okay." Jack held out a hand. "I'll be more than happy to help you find a house, and help you move.  But there is no way in hell that you're going galactic shopping and having me haul furniture through the Stargate just to decorate your house."

Sam giggled, flopping the real estate book back on the bed. "If you go furniture shopping planet to planet, we can get you some clothes out there too.  I know this planet where everyone dresses in this brilliant blue…"

"I still have those robes," Daniel commented.

"Still? God, throw those out!" Jack exclaimed. "Why do you keep so much junk? Nevermind, I don't want to know." 

He sighed, but Daniel couldn't help but smile, finding the whole conversation amusing, in some sort of twisted fashion.  But it felt good. Really good.

"Whatever. This is dull," Jack muttered, changing the topic. "And my stomach is roaring. How 'bout we grab some lunch and then figure this out later?"

"Sounds good to me, sir."

"Sure."

"I am in agreement."

"Great," Jack said, shoving his hands in his pocket and motioning to the door. "Let's get going."

"Okay, I'll be right with you guys," Daniel said.

As he watched them leave, he paused for a moment at the doorway and then shot a forlorn look back at his room. He felt as if he was leaving something behind, and stumbling into something new.  It was purely symbolic, he conjectured, but he felt it all the same. Slowly, his life was coming into focus; he was rebuilding his past to solidify a new future.

With a sigh, he slipped on his jacket, stood there, and stared.

Anyone who said that life was easy must have not really lived at all, he thought to himself as he soaked on the details of a Malaysian mask that was hanging above his bed. With all his knowledge and all his experience, it had still taken him years to realize just how much he was missing, and how much more he could accomplish.

Death and rebirth can give someone that kind of revelation, he imagined.

Jack had told him that he couldn't ignore all the difficult times of the past.  That embracing both the positive and negative were crucial to the soul-searching process. Well, he might not have said it in those words, but the meaning behind them stuck with Daniel.

Not unlike the teachings of Oma Desala, he mused. How ironic.

In the end, he was the one to decide what he must do with his life and how he must handle his life experiences and all the qualities that have made him the person he is today.  If he could understand and grasp this concept, then he was sure that he could do anything.

It would take time, just like it would take time to rebuild his friendships and his place here at the SGC. But already, the boundaries were crumbling, and as each day passed, he felt more and more like himself, and more comfortable with those around him.

He knew they felt the same.

He would not be going back to the disillusioned time before his death. Not at all.  In fact, he felt more renewed, like he could take on any task.

It was a good place to be.

"Hey, Daniel? You alright there?"

Daniel turned his head, noting Jack standing behind him, his features slightly distressed. With a deliberate nod, Daniel smiled back at him. "Yes. Everything's fine."

"You sure?"

Daniel smiled again, this time a soft, appreciative smile. "Yes.  I was just thinking, that's all. Thinking about something a wise man once told me."

"Oh." Jack had that look of both disinterest and worry. "Do anything for ya?"

"Actually, it did," he said softly. "Much much better than his old mantra."

 "Old mantis? What?"

 "Mantra. His old mantra," Daniel enunciated. "Beer will fix everything."

"Ah." Now Jack was grinning. "This man sounds very wise indeed. Didn't he also say great things such as… the flame burns—"

"No, no. This wise man should not get metaphysical," Daniel said wryly.

Jack cocked a half-sure smile, shaking his head. Daniel took the opportunity to become serious once again.

"Jack…thanks." He gazed at him warmly, hoping that his expression could do more than his words. "Thanks for everything."

Jack nodded, but there was a softening in his eyes.  "Hey, it's nothing," he said quietly. "Thank yourself." Pursing his lips, he patted Daniel on the shoulder, lingering for just a moment as he gazed at him gently. "It's good to have you back." Then he withdrew, and cleared his throat, motioning to the door. "Let's go. Teal'c is hungry and we know what can happen if he doesn't get fed."

Daniel chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure he'd appreciate you talking about him that way."

"He won't know if you don't snitch," Jack told him, his tone obvious. "So, shh.  And let's go. Now, I'm hungry."

Daniel chuckled again, shaking his head, before catching once last glance at his room.  All he had wanted was a place he could truly belong…

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