I Could Not Stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

-Emily Dickinson

Summary; Daniel just won't die. Death decides he might as well make it official and make the Fates shut up.

Daniel, begin Daniel, disagrees.

Daniel Jackson sighed, stuffing his icy hands into armpits, shivering in his usual self-hugging posture. He'd just returned from a five-day mission on a desert-planet, and the chill winter cold was jarring. He regretted the decision to stop at the local market before returning home; he was in dire need of a sleep.

He walked on, thoughts drifting in that pleasant hazy way he only allowed on the relative safety of Earth. But it seemed that his decade as an almost-soldier had some effect, because he realized very quickly that someone was watching him.

He stopped.

A luxurious but definitely dated black coach drew up beside him. Two huge, ink-colored horses were in the harness, but his eyes slid past them in a disturbing way. Even more, in fact, than they did the old man driving the carriage,

"Daniel Jackson," came the voice. Daniel shivered against his will, stepping back warily. The voice was - not like the Goa'uld, exactly, but dissonant in a similar fashion; definitely not human. "Please, come with me."

Daniel brought up a cold hand to touch his hidden sidearm. "I'd rather not," said he, quietly.

The young man simply smiled. He looked forward, pointedly. Daniel looked around.

The winter sidewalk was empty of people. A few feet away a withered tree lay dead, oddly drained of color; even the freshly fallen snow adorning it's naked branches seemed drab and gray. There was utter, complete silence, of the sort that normally foretold some terrible disaster on an alien world. Most notably, though, the sun was gray.

Everything looked a little gray, in fact.

Daniel digested this a moment, and realized the wind - which he hadn't even noticed before - was gone. He let his hand fall from his gun, resigned. "Alright."

Almost mockingly, the man (Old? Young?") stepped down to open the carriage door for him. Daniel scowled.

The ride had an almost psychedelic quality; Daniel realized quickly that trying to pay attention to his rapidly deforming surroundings hurt his eyes and made his head pound.

Was it bad that he didn't even feel alarmed? Or surprised?

"Do you know who I am, Daniel Jackson?"

"I have a good feeling you're going to tell me," commented Daniel. "That's how it usually goes."

The man seemed almost disappointed. "I am Death."

"Sure," said Daniel, trying now to look properly at the giant horses. He paused. "We killed Anubis. So who are you?"

"I am not a Goa'uld."

"You're eyes don't glow," Daniel said affably enough. "I presume you're from another alien race - like how the Asgard became the Norse gods here on Earth."

"We are no longer on Earth."

"I sorta got the impression."

A pause. Death decided to continue. "We are at the planes between life and death - a place few mortals go to, and fewer live through; almost none remember."

"There's a bit of a Deja vu feeling," Daniel mused.

"You have been here often," said Death, irritated.

"...Huh." Daniel turned. Looked at Death, closely - or tried to. "...You mean 'Death' as in... actual Death? The true concept of the end of life, not an alien entity."

Death was triumphant. "Yes. I am not actually corporeal; your human mind only imagines me so."

"Interesting."

Death blinked slowly.

"So, if you are death, can I ask how much direct influence you've had on humans over time? Or other species, for that matter. Are some of the supposed representations of Death ones that you have used in the past? Or perhaps others you have entrusted to do your work? And you said most can't remember, which implies that some can recall being here; were those the ones who returned to Earth and told stories about the realm of Death?" Daniel's eyes grew wide with wonder at the thought. "That seems like an experience which could easily be the basis for an entire religion - "

"I have not brought you here to answer questions," Death interrupted. He was taken off guard; it had been many years since he'd spoken to humans - live humans - and this one didn't seem to be acting quite right.

"Oh. Are you sure? Just a few?"

It seemed to Daniel that Death mumbled something about archeologists being more annoying than Hercules. He might have misheard.

Suddenly he noticed that the carriage seemed to be slowing.

"Daniel. I have brought you here for a purpose."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You see - you have a most annoying habit of coming here, very briefly, and then returning. Occasionally, a portion of your spirit has remained partially in this plane as well, such as when you were ascended."

"It's that close to Death?"

"That is quite besides the point. Daniel Jackson, I do not welcome visitors. This realm has inhabitants; that is all."

"Ah. You want to kill me, then?" Daniel asked, somewhat interested but unalarmed.

"...No."

"No?"

"No. Quite honestly, I do not know if it is worth trying; I think the Fates are using you to have some amusement at my expense." Daniel blinked very rapidly, looking thrown for the first time since the conversation began. He began muttering something angry about Fate being a 'bitch'. Death decided to ignore it and continue. "Therefore, I have something else in mind."

The horses stopped.

"One moment." Death joined him in the carriage. From no specific area that Daniel could see, Death withdrew something strange and bright and shimmering, liquid and solid and soft and spiky. It glittered with a pale light and sucked in all darkness, and like the horses and Death his eyes slid by it and through it against his will.

"This, Daniel Jackson, is something very special - something I have never gifted freely. Immortality."

"Immortality?"

"Yes - the ability to pass between both realms at will. You will be touched by the true forces of the universe. I have begun watching you, Daniel, after your visits sparked my curiosity. You are a being worthy of this gift; and, more importantly, we shall avoid your involuntary visits, and the Fates will be thwarted, no longer in control of your life - because your life shall be endless, and empowered by me."

"I see."

"It is yours."

"No thanks."

"..."

Daniel squinted at the horses again.

"...Excuse me?"

"I don't want it. Thanks, though."

" - Why - "

"What's life if it never ends?" Asked Daniel, rhetorically. "Boring. It's like - eating only one food your entire life. You just get sick of it eventually. And I don't want to outlive my friends. When I come meet you - for good - that'll be that."

"..."

"You sound like you have some issues with these Fates," said Daniel, kindly. "Maybe you should talk to them." A pause. "Possibly ask them to stop screwing with me? I'm not too fond of the whole 'dying repeatedly' thing either, I'll admit."

Death just stared at him, a little lost.

He was Death. He was everything and nothing. He was all and he was devoid. He knew everything that occurred on the living world, but suddenly he realized that he knew nothing, too.

"Can we go? It's been nice to meet you," Daniel added, politely, "and certainly interesting - but I have shopping to do."

Wordlessly, the chariot turned around.

The next day at the SGC Daniel walked up to Cameron. "Would you believe me if I said I think I was dead for a few hours yesterday after I went to the market?"

"Yes," said Mitchell, unfazed.

"I thought so."