Chapter 1

Jack didn't know what he expected but of all the places he thought he might find Daniel Jackson, it wasn't this rundown neighborhood. He looked at the overflowing trash-cans, the graffiti, and the apparently abandoned buildings with plywood in place of windows and felt his heart sink. Was this what Daniel had been reduced to?

He checked the paper he held and then the number on the apartment building. He nodded and then walked into the dingy hallway, lit by one bare bulb.

103B. Jack felt his heart sink more as he noticed the D. Ballard listed on the door.

He raised his hand and knocked hard and loud. A woman looked out two doors down, her hair mussed and a cigarette loose between scarlet-painted lips. She stared at him, her eyes had the hollow look of someone barely living. She smiled then and held up her hand. Five bucks, she mouthed. Jack shook his head and she shrugged, pullling back into her apartment as if it was his loss.

The door opened beneath his hand and Jack found himself unable to speak as he looked at Daniel for the first time in two years.

"Jack." Daniel's voice had never quite recovered its normal timbre after Velera. There was a lot of Daniel that had changed with that last disastrous mission. "What do you want?" Daniel sounded weary.

"Can't a guy look up an old friend?" Jack felt his throat tighten even as he tried to keep his tone light.

Daniel just looked at him, and Jack made the mistake of looking away as he was confronted with that angry stare. "Yeah, that's what I figured," Daniel said, but he took two hops back on his crutches. "Come in. Don't want the neighbors to talk."

Jack followed him down a tiny hall into a room that was divided by a counter. It was surprisingly neat but then again, maybe not a surprise.

"Sit down," Daniel told him and gestured with his chin at a beat-up wooden table with two chairs. Jack did as he was told. Daniel leaned his crutches against the counter and hopped into the miniscule kitchen. "I have milk or water," he told Jack.

"Water's fine," Jack told him. "I can..." He started to get up as Daniel filled two glasses with water.

"I can do it," Daniel told him without even turning around.

"Yeah, sorry." Jack turned his attention to the living room. Although judging from the size of the apartment, the living room was also the bedroom and dining room. There was a threadbare couch with a pillow at one end and a blanket carefully folded over the back. Jack would bet his last dollar that it served as Daniel's bed. A small chest of drawers sat in one corner, one drawer not quite closed with a sleeve of a sweatshirt hanging out of it. There were no pictures, no decorations, only the sofa, the chest of drawers, an easy chair that looked like it had seen better days, the table and chairs at which he sat, and two shelves made of bricks and wood filled with books. It hurt to look at it.

"Here."

Daniel had come around the counter and placed one glass of water on the table. He pulled out the other chair before he hopped to the counter to retrieve his own. Daniel sat down across from Jack and took a sip of water.

"You get around pretty well," Jack said when the silence grew heavy.

Daniel shrugged. "No choice really." Daniel didn't back away from Jack's stare. "I've had plenty of practice." He shrugged and lifted the glass to his lips again.

Jack watched him. The scar that had been so livid on Daniel's face two years ago had faded from an angry puckered red to thickened shiny skin. The eyepatch, of course, was still necessary. He glanced down at Daniel's right hand resting on the table, the sight of the truncated fingers twisting his gut. At that moment he wanted to go back to Velera and kill all of them preferably with a knife and slow torture.

Daniel put down the glass and followed Jack's gaze. He lifted his right hand, closed it into a fist. "I asked you before what you want. Surely the great Jack O'Neill wouldn't deign to visit a traitor, would he?"

At that moment, Jack thought he might not know Daniel at all any longer. He had to hope that there was something of the Daniel he used to know left in the man who sat across from him. "I want you to come home. To come back to the SGC."

He didn't know what answer he expected. Maybe a vehement denial, anger, something, anything except the harsh, bitter laughter that was Daniel's response.

"Sorry, Jack," Daniel said a moment later, his expression gone serious. "The powers that be made it perfectly clear two years ago that my days at the SGC were over, and now they want me back?" He stood, balancing on his remaining leg. "I think it's time for you to go." He grabbed his crutches.

"Daniel." Jack couldn't give up now, not when he was so close. Damn it, he didn't want to leave even if Daniel was ready to kick him out.

"Jack." Daniel gripped the crutches tighter. Jack could see his knuckles turn white. "I don't care any more. I don't give a damn about the SGC. I'm happy here."

Jack looked around the apartment. "Yeah, I can see that."

"I didn't ask you to come here." Daniel said, his face pale, his body vibrating with tension. "When it mattered, no one from the SGC gave a damn. I was kicked out like so much trash, so forgive me if I choose to live my life here."

Jack was getting a very bad feeling in his gut. Very bad. "It's not a choice though is it?"

Daniel's swift glance away was all the answer he needed.

"Damn it, Daniel." Jack felt like punching a wall but he feared if he put a fist on one of Daniel's walls, his hand might go through to the next apartment. "Why didn't you..."

"Don't you dare pity me." Daniel headed towards the door. "It's over, Jack. It's been nice seeing you again. Tell Sam and Teal'c hi from me." He opened the door and stood to one side. "It's better this way."

"Daniel." Jack could barely force the name past his throat. "I..."

"Goodbye, Jack." Daniel didn't offer a hand, just stood there waiting.

And Jack found himself staring at the closed door without a memory of walking through.