A Life Lost
By immertreu
(Slightly revised version December 2010)
Chapter 1
Daniel Jackson stopped in front of the apartment door: No. 1001 – tenth floor, first door on the left, next to the elevator. So it wouldn't take the cripple long to reach his apartment after entering the building. That unwelcome idea, unintentionally provoked by the people who had meticulously planned his new life for him, stirred the anger Daniel thought he'd buried just minutes ago when he'd stepped out of the cab in front of the building. He pushed the notion aside and looked around.
The gray corridor with apartment doors on both sides and only one small window at the far end was dimly lit; black-and-white photographs of the city decorated the walls. Luckily, none of his new neighbors were in sight. If they had been, he would have ignored them anyway, as he did everybody these days.
Truth be told, he seemed to have lost the once sensitive and caring part of his being the moment he was forced to say goodbye to the remaining members of his team at Elmendorf Air Force Base. This was not his world, his Earth; he didn't belong here. All he wanted to do was go home with his friends. And that was the one thing he couldn't do.
With a sigh, he eyed the door of his new "home" suspiciously. Daniel really didn't want to go inside, but what choice did he have? He could hardly stand in the middle of the hall all day. Besides, the pain in his left leg was increasing rapidly, and he knew he needed to sit down very soon.
Finally, he leaned his right-hand crutch against the wall, turned the key and pushed the door wide open so that he would be able to enter, using the crutches he already hated so much. He took a deep breath, adjusted the strap of the green duffle bag that cut into his shoulder, gripped the handles of his crutches tighter than before – if that was even possible – and hobbled over the threshold.
Darkness welcomed him. How appropriate, he thought.
Daniel's custodian had told him about his apartment on the plane, but of course, he hadn't listened to anything the man had said while they flew further and further away from Sam and Mitchell and their former life together.
He buried that thought again and took another step, ignoring the nausea and vertigo which threatened to overwhelm him any moment now.
Daniel stood in a narrow hallway, one door on either side and an archway that had to lead to the living room in front of him. Someone had drawn the curtains over the windows on the opposite wall, but he could make out the shape of a sofa with a lot of cushions leaning against the back and a stool sitting in front.
He slammed the door behind him with his elbow, dropped the bag where he stood, and carefully made his way through the gloom, ignoring the sudden sharp pain in his arm that had made contact with the wooden door. At least it made him feel alive – in a scary kind of way.
Daniel headed straight to the sofa, slumped on the nearest, end and settled back, crutches clattering unnoticed to the floor. Exhaustion and despair finally took their toll, and he sank into oblivion.
"No!"
Daniel woke with a start, eyes wide and unfocused in the unfamiliar darkness surrounding him. Biting cold from his dream still clung to his rigid body. He couldn't feel his leg! Daniel reached down with his left hand, found nothing but air and the pillows he was resting on – and realization hit him. It hadn't been a dream!
He clenched his teeth to muffle the pained groan that escaped his throat and sank back, closing his eyes again to shut out reality. This time sleep wouldn't come that easily. And when it eventually did, his dead and lost friends' faces appeared before his inner eye, followed by more nightmares filled with cold and darkness and stabbing pain.