Full Circle: The Moment
Category: Vignette. S/D. Inherent sentimental sappiness.
Spoiler: Season Six. Full Circle.
Summary: All the little things. "Why didn't a get a visit?" Sam asks. (Full Circle Vignette)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
***
Moments. All she seems to have of him, ones that really matter, are only brief moments. These fragments of the moments that never seem enough, that never could be enough, have been burned into her memory, every sense and every color of emotion remembered and held onto, until they've become her only companion on sleepless nights.
So this moment, right now, is familiar despite its surreal quality. The dim light with the dusty yellow glow, the musk of the desert, the faint sound of the wind against the ancient stone walls, the deafening bangs of crossfire and bombardment echoing in the background, all of it. And this friend in front of her.
His eyes are tracing the hieroglyphs on the wall, and he quickly exchanges information with Jonas, their words rapidly firing against each other's to find the ever-elusive Eye of Ra before Anubis completely annihilates Abydos. They don't have much time, and the fate of the world is on them, yet again. The rush of the situation is the same. His eyes are still the same blue she remembers. His small smile is still familiar. It's almost as if he has never left.
This is the epitome of repeated deja vu.
She appreciates so much of what she sees now, what she feels, what they are all trying to do, what they are, in fact, doing, and most of all who she is with. It's all real. It has to be. But after a year of wonder and pain that she wouldn't admit, the reality of this is too difficult to accept. As much as she wants to deny it, she knows that he has left, ascended, and this dreamlike moment is really vaporous and incorporeal. It'll be gone, and she'll be left only with the moments that will never be enough.
"No, no, that doesn't work," Daniel shakes his head at Jonas, "I tried that before I left Abydos six years ago. It didn't work."
Jonas stops from whatever he's been attempting and turns to Daniel. "What haven't you tried? What haven't *we* tried?"
At that, both men sigh. Jonas, deciding to take another approach, takes a few steps back, as if examining the wall from the long corridor might give him the answer. Daniel, for all intentions and purposes, looks exactly like how he used to look just before consuming a whole pot of coffee. Sam just stands back, as she's been, watching, staring.
His familiar blue eyes are patiently bearing into the inscriptions and his fingers are almost touching the wall as if they've forgotten to be incorporeal. She remembers this scene; she's seen it a thousand times before. Sans glasses, in Abydonian costume, and slightly more cryptic, but this man in front of her is still Daniel. So, so, Daniel.
It becomes too much, and she finds herself tightening her grip on her weapon just to steady herself.
"Daniel, why didn't I get a visit?" The question comes out without any thinking on her part, and she is startled into wondering where it has come from.
"Hmmm?" Daniel answers distractedly, his eyes still on the mystery that doesn't want to be solved.
This time, she knows what she's asking, why she's asking, and even though she's perfectly aware that she shouldn't even be thinking of this, once the idea is rooted in her head, there's no avoiding it. "Are we still friends?" she asks softly, almost afraid of the answer.
At this, Daniel blinks innocently, as if glasses are still a part of his life somehow, as if he is still, really, here. "Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"
"The Colonel and Teal'c got to see you. I never did."
Understanding flashes across his face. He takes a moment, his arms crossed and head bowing slightly as if in reverence. He speaks softly, looking up, "Sam, Jack and Teal'c...they were dying at the time."
She's been briefed about their encounters, so she knows. And so she has wondered. "I had my share of near-deaths after you were gone, Daniel, but I didn't see get to you, not even once."
Jonas, who's been lurking in the back for a while, steps forward, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Major Carter, uh, maybe this isn't a good time to discuss this?"
Of course it isn't, if the loud thuds coming from outside between the crossfire and the bombardment are any evidence, and Major Doctor Samantha Carter doesn't waste time asking questions with no answers and discussing emotions and feelings when she knows perfectly well that lives are at stake. Daniel's might not be, but hers certainly is, along with the every life on this planet they have come to save.
Yet she doesn't withdrew her question. She can't. She fears she'll never get to even see him again after this moment.
All the while, Daniel's eyes never leave hers. "You were never lost, Sam. Jack, Teal'c...they were lost, but you weren't. You were always the strongest one." There's a bemused smile on his face. "You still are."
So, ascension doesn't make one omniscient, she sees it now. He doesn't know, she whispers to herself. He doesn't know.
"Daniel, I was lost. I was lost every single moment when I stepped into the Gate without you, when I turned around to find that you weren't there where you were supposed to be, when I looked up from whatever report I'm reading and saw your coffee mug that I couldn't throw away. Every time, I was lost. I still am. You don't know, Daniel. You don't." He doesn't know how important he was to her, how important he is still, that every one of her waking moment is fraught with tragedy because of him, if he doesn't think she was lost all along without him.
He watches her with his discerning eyes, in silence. It shouldn't be this quiet, with the lives dying outside and things destroyed, while she shares her frivolous emotions with him. She should be ashamed for being so selfish, but oddly, she isn't.
"I never really missed Earth much," he begins, his voice of a quiet confession the only sound in this space, "I missed you guys, maybe even Abydos, but not Earth. Just as well, because I'm not supposed to miss much. Our way, our search for the truth, is...different. Missing and longing for things, such things are very human, and they're not for us. Yet, I missed you. Maybe a little too much. The clay coffee mugs that made that clang sound against your tea spoon, the oak scent of the overused desk, the squeaks of the leather chairs, pens and pencils rolling off on the cement floor, Jack's fishing rod, Teal'c's candle, your smile, tears, orange and flowers. Just little, ordinary things. And these little things I missed the most about Earth, I was reminded of them when I was near you, when I saw you. So I thought it would be the best to stay away."
She wishes to be able to hug him at this moment, to feel and sense his tousled hair, his crisp shirt, the dusk scent of his, all the little things. She blinks, swallows the tears. "You're supposed to be above and beyond all this."
"Yes." A little self-deprecating smile plays across his face. "But, obviously, I'm not."
"Will you find your way?"
He lowers his eyes, the smile lost. "It's a long journey, but I hope I will. Otherwise, what I have lost is too much."
Whatever the truth and the ways he is searching for, they don't seem to matter right now. She would give everything, even his precious truth, just to be able to hold his hand, to touch his cheek and lift his face to meet his eyes. To have him back.
All the little things.
"Me, too," he says softly.
She loved him more for his compassion than his genius, for his quiet affection than his seemingly bottomless knowledge, for his pain and despair as much as his passion, for his understanding, empathy, all things he gave her without asking anything in return. She has watched his journey for six long years, and she now knows.
"I guess I loved you," she tells him, strangely unafraid.
She's never known Daniel to be afraid of anything, but he seems hesitant as he takes steps toward her, his hand nearly touching hers. The gesture is hopefully tentative and infinitely gentle, and the impossibility of it leaves her with the tears that will not be shed and the knots in her chest that will never dissolve. "I-I guess I loved you, too," he tells her, his voice barely a whisper, "Sam, Sam, for what it's worth, I'm here now."
She smiles through the tears that threaten to blind her eyes, because she knows this will end.
She knows that this moment will end, with Jonas awkwardly coming back into the picture and all of them going back to work. Daniel and Jonas will read the inscriptions. Daniel will see the depicted sunrays turning bright red, and the wall will slide open, revealing its mystery.
This moment will end, this surreal moment of watching him, all the old familiar gestures, his eyes, his intangible hands and his all-so-tangible smile, will end.
This surreal moment will become real when he disappears again and leaves her only with the moments.
This will end.
Yet, she is glad.
Because the moment is still so beautiful, will always be, and it is enough. More than enough.
Because she still loves him all the same.
THE END
(03/04/10)
Category: Vignette. S/D. Inherent sentimental sappiness.
Spoiler: Season Six. Full Circle.
Summary: All the little things. "Why didn't a get a visit?" Sam asks. (Full Circle Vignette)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
***
Moments. All she seems to have of him, ones that really matter, are only brief moments. These fragments of the moments that never seem enough, that never could be enough, have been burned into her memory, every sense and every color of emotion remembered and held onto, until they've become her only companion on sleepless nights.
So this moment, right now, is familiar despite its surreal quality. The dim light with the dusty yellow glow, the musk of the desert, the faint sound of the wind against the ancient stone walls, the deafening bangs of crossfire and bombardment echoing in the background, all of it. And this friend in front of her.
His eyes are tracing the hieroglyphs on the wall, and he quickly exchanges information with Jonas, their words rapidly firing against each other's to find the ever-elusive Eye of Ra before Anubis completely annihilates Abydos. They don't have much time, and the fate of the world is on them, yet again. The rush of the situation is the same. His eyes are still the same blue she remembers. His small smile is still familiar. It's almost as if he has never left.
This is the epitome of repeated deja vu.
She appreciates so much of what she sees now, what she feels, what they are all trying to do, what they are, in fact, doing, and most of all who she is with. It's all real. It has to be. But after a year of wonder and pain that she wouldn't admit, the reality of this is too difficult to accept. As much as she wants to deny it, she knows that he has left, ascended, and this dreamlike moment is really vaporous and incorporeal. It'll be gone, and she'll be left only with the moments that will never be enough.
"No, no, that doesn't work," Daniel shakes his head at Jonas, "I tried that before I left Abydos six years ago. It didn't work."
Jonas stops from whatever he's been attempting and turns to Daniel. "What haven't you tried? What haven't *we* tried?"
At that, both men sigh. Jonas, deciding to take another approach, takes a few steps back, as if examining the wall from the long corridor might give him the answer. Daniel, for all intentions and purposes, looks exactly like how he used to look just before consuming a whole pot of coffee. Sam just stands back, as she's been, watching, staring.
His familiar blue eyes are patiently bearing into the inscriptions and his fingers are almost touching the wall as if they've forgotten to be incorporeal. She remembers this scene; she's seen it a thousand times before. Sans glasses, in Abydonian costume, and slightly more cryptic, but this man in front of her is still Daniel. So, so, Daniel.
It becomes too much, and she finds herself tightening her grip on her weapon just to steady herself.
"Daniel, why didn't I get a visit?" The question comes out without any thinking on her part, and she is startled into wondering where it has come from.
"Hmmm?" Daniel answers distractedly, his eyes still on the mystery that doesn't want to be solved.
This time, she knows what she's asking, why she's asking, and even though she's perfectly aware that she shouldn't even be thinking of this, once the idea is rooted in her head, there's no avoiding it. "Are we still friends?" she asks softly, almost afraid of the answer.
At this, Daniel blinks innocently, as if glasses are still a part of his life somehow, as if he is still, really, here. "Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"
"The Colonel and Teal'c got to see you. I never did."
Understanding flashes across his face. He takes a moment, his arms crossed and head bowing slightly as if in reverence. He speaks softly, looking up, "Sam, Jack and Teal'c...they were dying at the time."
She's been briefed about their encounters, so she knows. And so she has wondered. "I had my share of near-deaths after you were gone, Daniel, but I didn't see get to you, not even once."
Jonas, who's been lurking in the back for a while, steps forward, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Major Carter, uh, maybe this isn't a good time to discuss this?"
Of course it isn't, if the loud thuds coming from outside between the crossfire and the bombardment are any evidence, and Major Doctor Samantha Carter doesn't waste time asking questions with no answers and discussing emotions and feelings when she knows perfectly well that lives are at stake. Daniel's might not be, but hers certainly is, along with the every life on this planet they have come to save.
Yet she doesn't withdrew her question. She can't. She fears she'll never get to even see him again after this moment.
All the while, Daniel's eyes never leave hers. "You were never lost, Sam. Jack, Teal'c...they were lost, but you weren't. You were always the strongest one." There's a bemused smile on his face. "You still are."
So, ascension doesn't make one omniscient, she sees it now. He doesn't know, she whispers to herself. He doesn't know.
"Daniel, I was lost. I was lost every single moment when I stepped into the Gate without you, when I turned around to find that you weren't there where you were supposed to be, when I looked up from whatever report I'm reading and saw your coffee mug that I couldn't throw away. Every time, I was lost. I still am. You don't know, Daniel. You don't." He doesn't know how important he was to her, how important he is still, that every one of her waking moment is fraught with tragedy because of him, if he doesn't think she was lost all along without him.
He watches her with his discerning eyes, in silence. It shouldn't be this quiet, with the lives dying outside and things destroyed, while she shares her frivolous emotions with him. She should be ashamed for being so selfish, but oddly, she isn't.
"I never really missed Earth much," he begins, his voice of a quiet confession the only sound in this space, "I missed you guys, maybe even Abydos, but not Earth. Just as well, because I'm not supposed to miss much. Our way, our search for the truth, is...different. Missing and longing for things, such things are very human, and they're not for us. Yet, I missed you. Maybe a little too much. The clay coffee mugs that made that clang sound against your tea spoon, the oak scent of the overused desk, the squeaks of the leather chairs, pens and pencils rolling off on the cement floor, Jack's fishing rod, Teal'c's candle, your smile, tears, orange and flowers. Just little, ordinary things. And these little things I missed the most about Earth, I was reminded of them when I was near you, when I saw you. So I thought it would be the best to stay away."
She wishes to be able to hug him at this moment, to feel and sense his tousled hair, his crisp shirt, the dusk scent of his, all the little things. She blinks, swallows the tears. "You're supposed to be above and beyond all this."
"Yes." A little self-deprecating smile plays across his face. "But, obviously, I'm not."
"Will you find your way?"
He lowers his eyes, the smile lost. "It's a long journey, but I hope I will. Otherwise, what I have lost is too much."
Whatever the truth and the ways he is searching for, they don't seem to matter right now. She would give everything, even his precious truth, just to be able to hold his hand, to touch his cheek and lift his face to meet his eyes. To have him back.
All the little things.
"Me, too," he says softly.
She loved him more for his compassion than his genius, for his quiet affection than his seemingly bottomless knowledge, for his pain and despair as much as his passion, for his understanding, empathy, all things he gave her without asking anything in return. She has watched his journey for six long years, and she now knows.
"I guess I loved you," she tells him, strangely unafraid.
She's never known Daniel to be afraid of anything, but he seems hesitant as he takes steps toward her, his hand nearly touching hers. The gesture is hopefully tentative and infinitely gentle, and the impossibility of it leaves her with the tears that will not be shed and the knots in her chest that will never dissolve. "I-I guess I loved you, too," he tells her, his voice barely a whisper, "Sam, Sam, for what it's worth, I'm here now."
She smiles through the tears that threaten to blind her eyes, because she knows this will end.
She knows that this moment will end, with Jonas awkwardly coming back into the picture and all of them going back to work. Daniel and Jonas will read the inscriptions. Daniel will see the depicted sunrays turning bright red, and the wall will slide open, revealing its mystery.
This moment will end, this surreal moment of watching him, all the old familiar gestures, his eyes, his intangible hands and his all-so-tangible smile, will end.
This surreal moment will become real when he disappears again and leaves her only with the moments.
This will end.
Yet, she is glad.
Because the moment is still so beautiful, will always be, and it is enough. More than enough.
Because she still loves him all the same.
THE END
(03/04/10)