Title: Trigger
Author: mcat
Date: June 24, 2003
E-mail - mcat40@hotmail.com
Rating: PG
Pairing: J/D.
Category: Episode related
Season/Episode: 7, Fragile Balance
Spoilers: Fragile Balance
Summary: Daniel remembers…
Notes: Thanks to Linda and Jill for the beta/look-see
Disclaimer: No profit, no money gained, no money to be sued for… yadda, yadda, yadda…
I don't know what we're doing, what we're looking for. Not really. I mean, I don't think the Asgards are going to leave a business card or anything. At least I don't think so. But we all go to Jack's house anyway, under the impression that we'll find some clue to tell us what happened to him.
We get in the house and it does seem familiar, and the thought pops into my head that "nothing's changed."
Nothing's changed? Nothing's changed as in, the furniture's where I remember it, or nothing's changed, as in, yeah, Jack's a lousy housekeeper. Or nothing's changed, as in, here we are, SG-1, in a weird situation again.
Okay, back to why we're here. Hmmm… no UFO's parked in the back yard, everything seems to be in working order, lights, television, appliances… the take out's from the usual place. The usual place? Sam's checking out the food, probably gonna have it tested for weird chemicals or poisons.
The kid, uh, Jack, has headed down the hall. Bedroom. This seems familiar, too… Why would Jack's bedroom seem familiar? I mean, beyond knowing where it is, maybe once or twice putting a drunken Jack to bed after a night out.
Before I know it, I'm opening one of the drawers to his dresser. Jack calls to me and I realize that I'm holding up a pair of his underwear. Embarrassed, I quickly shove it back into the drawer. I look around the room, no one else seems to be looking in anything, just around and on top of things. What are we looking for again? Alien sleep devices, transporter signalers, growth hormone stealers…
I can't help but look at that dresser drawer again. Something about it. Something in there, beyond Jack's underwear; I swear something's calling me to it.
Everyone's heading back to the living room. I excuse myself, telling them I need to use the bathroom and head for the one adjoining the bedroom. As soon as everyone is out of the bedroom, I go back in. Back to the drawer.
There's some hesitancy, I mean really, I am going to check out my best friend's underwear drawer for cryin' out loud, but I open it. And move things around. And freeze.
Sam's calling me, wondering if I'm okay, that I'm taking a long time. I shout back that I'm coming, and shove the drawer closed again before joining the group in the living room. I catch a questioning look from Jack, but I just start up about needing to do some more on-line research about alien abductions and stuff.
* * * * *
It's finally over. Well, the situation with Jack's "mini-me" and the renegade Asgard scientist, Loki, anyway. We've got the old Jack, no pun intended, back. I'm not sure the world is gonna survive with both versions out there, one is enough for me.
As for the rest of my life, it seems, at times, like it's just beginning. There's still so much I don't remember and still so much I have to relearn. And there're definitely things, from what I've been told, that I don't ever want to remember. But the way things have been coming back to me, I'm sure I will remember the good, the bad and the ugly.
It's strange, though, the way some things have been coming back to me. I can spout out details of missions from five years ago, tell you just how many children were at my sixth birthday party (three, including me), and still speak most of the twenty three languages I once knew, as if those memories were never gone. Other times, it'll take someone repeatedly telling me a fact for it to remain in my memory. I think Jack'll have to tell me when his birthday is about ten more times for it to stick, for example. And other times, I won't remember something until I get some sensory trigger first, like hearing General Hammond tell a team that they have a "go" over the loud speaker in the 'Gate room reminded me of our trip to Nem's planet, for some reason. Smelling the gourmet blend of coffee in the cafeteria brought back all the names of the kitchen staff for me. Seeing the silk boxers at the bottom of Jack's underwear drawer…
Seeing those... If the real Jack was there in the house, I would have dragged him back into the bedroom and nailed him to the wall, regardless of whether Sam and Teal'c were still there, for all the memories they brought back. But the young Jack? No. Talk about bad timing. Despite knowing that inside he was still the Jack I knew… and loved, I couldn't get past the fifteen-year-old body.
But now? Now, I've got the real Jack back. And he's going to know that I remember. He's going to know what I remember, as I lie on his bed waiting for him, wearing my black silk boxers, the ones that he's kept hidden at the bottom of his underwear drawer.