The planet was unoccupied. Nothing but trees, trees, and more trees flourished in the damp rainforest world of P3R 257. The soil was a deep, rich brown and Samantha Carter's knife cut easily through the dirt floor of the forest. But she wasn't here to marvel at the fertile soil of this particular alien planet, so in went the dirt into the standard, plastic hazmat bag and off went the major to a new spot of interest. Colonel Jack O'Neill had ordered a sweep of the perimeter and even if Doctor Jackson had been with them, he probably wouldn't have been much help, no doubt leaving the work up to the other two men and going off in search of some lingering sign that intelligent life had once roamed this planet. 'Yeah' Jack thought, 'he would have been off in a flash and Teal'c and I would have had to spend the entire time dragging him away from some rock.'
Artifact.
Even in his mind the words sounded fond. Not cruel, like he had meant them to be. It had been like that for nearly eight months now. Ever since that mission when Jack had turned his back for a second and Daniel had disappeared. Poof. Into thin air. As if he had never been standing there in the first place, his face calm, hiding a growing anger as Jack yelled at him louder and louder.
It's okay.
Jack grunted sullenly to the empty wilderness. How did you shut up a voice that was coming from inside you? How could he stop hearing Daniel correcting everything he said, comforting in words small enough for him to understand? Words that sounded so simple and yet so elegant coming from the mouth of such an accomplished linguist and friend? How could he shut up a voice that really, deep deep down, you didn't want to shut up?
You-
"Shut-up!"
Jack could feel two pairs of eyes on him as he recovered from his little outburst. He turned.
"I'm fine." He said gruffly but truthfully to his two remaining teammates.
They nodded, not quite believing him, and went back to their work.
Jack turned again to the dense forest he was surrounded by.
It was just like when Charlie died, not directly his fault but he still felt he had had a part in it. As if not yelling at Daniel would have made any difference to whichever bastards had taken him. At least he would've had a picture of Daniel happy, smiling even, burned into his brain. Or a sulking Daniel not allowed to finish at the Temple they had left not long ago. A good picture, not one of Daniel standing stock still, afraid to move for fear of eliciting even more of the colonel's wrath, his face stonily neutral, devoid of all emotion. That was what really got Jack going, he could never be sure whether the young man was taking any of his ranting in or if he was just running on autopilot. Jack never could tell. But looking back on the picture forever branded into his memory, the last time he had ever seen Daniel, he could see the fear, the overwhelming fear spilling out through his eyes. The blame, the disappointment he was directing not at Jack, but at himself for somehow bringing this on. Years of abuse and neglection had taught Daniel one thing, that whatever was directed at you was brought on by yourself. Jack knew now what he hadn't known then: that every degrading and belittling syllable that was thrown at Daniel would not come back to you, but would instead be directed back at himself a hundred times more powerful than anything, any pain Jack could inflict.
'I'm sorry Daniel. For everything.'
Silence.
That was the answer, the same answer he came back with every time he uttered a true apology to the wind.
Silence.