Ice
Sam stared at her colonel—no, ex colonel, ex, ex, ex, she had to get used to it no matter how wrong it sounded—standing in the stasis pod, frozen there to preserve him like an Ancient relic. First Janet, now O'Neill... Feeling her throat tighten, she discreetly rubbed one of her eyes and looked away. "I'll... I'll go look... see the technology in here..." she said as she walked away, needing to be alone for a minute, not caring that her reason was rather awkward and not very well thought out: even if she did find interesting things, only Daniel could translate whatever writing would be on it.
Daniel knew that as well, but he didn't say anything, letting her walk away to regain her composure. He had barely heard her, actually, staring at Jack's face behind the thick cover of... was it ice? something else? Time stretched on as he just stood there in the dry, freezing cold of Antarctica, his normally hyperactive mind completely blank. He didn't even react when Teal'C walked away to join Sam.
Swallowing painfully, he took a step forward. His breath fogged up the icy surface, then crystallized into white, delicate frost.
Jack didn't show any reaction, even when Daniel rested his fingertips, then his whole hand on the surface. It was cold, but strangely, the heat of his hand didn't make it melt. Daniel drew in a shaky breath. How did Jack feel in there? Was he okay? Was he cold? Was he even conscious of what was going on around him? Was he trapped inside his body, screaming to be let out while no one could hear him?
That last thought made Daniel shudder. God, he hoped the real Jack was asleep or unconscious in there. He couldn't bear the thought of Jack imprisoned in this... pod against his will.
The surface was perfectly smooth against his finger as Daniel caressed it gently. "Sleep," Ancient Jack had said about the pod. But... was it a sleep Jack could be awaken from? Or was he going to stay here forever, just a vessel of the Ancients' knowledge that no one could use anymore? And if he could be awaken... how? And would Jack be back to normal, or still a walking Ancients memory database?
Daniel rested his forehead against the pod's surface. He refused to believe it could end like this. Jack couldn't just... end this way. That was too... lame. Heroes like Jack were supposed to go out in a blaze of glory, saving millions with their death. Or something along those lines.
Daniel snorted, a bit crazily. Weren't heroes supposed to be immortal anyway?
Whoever had said that surely had never set foot on a battlefield, he thought bitterly.
Raising his head slightly, he looked at Jack's eerily impassive face. "I'll find a way," he said softly, more to reassure himself than anything. They could do that. It wasn't the first time SG-1 had had to face the impossible. He rested his cheek against the pod for a moment to regain his strength. "You just had to go and stick your head in. Idiot." He snorted, then slowly pulled back, letting his lips graze the cold surface for an instant before he stepped back to join Sam and Teal'C, looking at the pod for as long as he could.
"I'll come back," he promised, then turned away, the silence only broken by the muffled creaking of his boots in the pristine snow.