Better Late than Never
By
Denise
She knelt in the grass, feeling the warmth of the sun at her back. Birds sang in the distance, their calls barely audible over the buzz of insects. This planet was fertile, full of life, an idyllic oasis of peace in a galaxy of strife.
The strife was ending, she knew. Word of Ba'al's death had come just weeks before, and with it, hope. Hope that their future would no longer consist of terror and fear. Hope that the galaxy would finally know peace.
But it was a peace that had come too late.
Someone walked towards her. She could hear the crunch of the grass, feel the presence growing closer and closer. She knew it was him. Even though it had been years, she could still recognize his distinctive pace.
Her hand twitched, her fingers ready to activate the imager. She relaxed her grip, letting the small device fall into her lap. No. She didn't need it anymore.
He came closer and she fought the urge to get up and run. She could beat him, she knew that. She was used to running. Used to staying one step ahead.
It was time to stop.
He stood right behind her, close enough that she could feel him, smell him. He said nothing and she could imagine what he looked like. His feet apart, hands clasped loosely behind his back. The bulky fabric of his fatigues making his legs look big while his jacket hung from his shoulders. A well worn cap covered short cropped hair, probably a lot more silver than she'd last seen.
There would be more lines on his face now. The stress and trials of the past few years would have left its mark, not only upon his body but also upon his soul.
She was afraid to look at him, afraid of what she'd see. Would he be disappointed in her? Angry at her decision? Or would he understand? Accept that she'd done the only thing she could do.
"How did it happen?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Last winter," she said softly, dreading the topic but knowing that he needed to know, deserved to know. "He loved being outside. Which was amazing. Even after Ba'al—I would have thought that outside was the last place he'd want to be, but I was wrong. There was a storm, a blizzard. He wandered off, playing in the snow."
Snow up to her knees, clinging to her leg, bogging her down. Tiny little flakes turned into minute missiles by a biting wind. Struggling to breathe, the icy air burning her lungs. The howl of the wind ripping their words away, rendering communication useless.
"We found him, but he was so cold."
Stiff, white skin looking like fine porcelain under the rough, hand-woven scarf. Dark lashes fanning over smooth cheeks atop blue lips. He looked like he was asleep, curled up in a peaceful ball.
"We brought him back."
Trying to make it home. Fighting to keep up with Ry'ac, her fingers digging into the back of his coat, knowing that, without his strength, she'd never get Daniel home.
"Warmed him up."
Cutting off the frozen clothes, trying to avoid hurting him, but knowing he'd never feel it if they did. Baring more and more skin to the warmth of the room. Nicking him with the knife, a cut that didn't bleed for hours. Lying next to him, shuddering as she came into contact with his stiff, cold skin as Ry'ac stoked the fire. Helping Syn'ac wrap him in warmed blankets. Lying there awake, afraid to fall asleep, afraid that, if she did, she'd awake next to a corpse.
"He survived. But he was so sick."
A pale form lying on the bed, his hair matted with sweat. Soft moans cutting through the stillness of the night. Endless hours spent bathing his body, trying to cool the fever. Harsh coughs that nearly tore his body apart, ending with gasping breaths.
Praying for him to survive, afraid that he would.
"Asha finally came. She healed the pneumonia but he was weak." She reached out, tracing the letters cut into the metallic surface. It'd taken her weeks to get it right. Weeks to find the acidic compound to etch the trinium. Weeks to precisely spell out Daniel's name. There was no date. She never could figure out which one to use. When his spirit died, or when his body finally joined it.
The presence at her back left and she closed her eyes. He'd gotten what he'd come for. There was no need to stay.
Much to her surprise, he knelt at her side. His hand joined hers, fingers trailing across the burnished metal. "After all the times he died, pneumonia's a little anti-climactic," he muttered.
"It wasn't pneumonia," she said, glancing at him for the first time. "Ja'kon started to walk this spring."
"Ja'kon?"
She smiled, looking down at her knees. "Ry'ac's daughter. He named her after her grandfather's best friend."
"Poor kid."
"She got too close to the paddock, crawled right under the fence. The horse was skittish and—Daniel never knew. He—" She closed her eyes, remembering that fateful afternoon.
It was a beautiful spring day, warm and sunny. The scent of wild flowers wafting on the gentle breeze. The ground was soft and muddy, fresh from the night's rain.
"There was a new foal. Ja'kon loved it. She was fascinated by a horse that was her size. She wanted to pet it. But the mare…"
A cry cutting through the air, mixing with Ja'kon's high scream and Ry'ac's panicked curses. Daniel yelling, flying into the paddock, throwing himself beneath the mare's feet. The wet slap of hooves into flesh. Ja'kon's sobs as a body laid so still in the mud.
"He never woke up."
Washing the mud off Daniel's still form, the water quickly turning a macabre mixture of black and red. Kissing every bruise, binding every cut. Combing the tangles from his hair before wrapping him in the shroud.
Following Ry'ac as he carried Daniel up to the hill top, not understand, but ceding to her wishes for a burial. Standing beside him as he pushed shovel after shovel of dirt into the hole. Relieved that Daniel was finally at peace, ashamed that she felt relief.
"Why didn't you come home?" He asked.
"Come home to what?" She frowned.
"Come home to me?"
She opened her eyes, looking up at him for the first time. "I—I was afraid," she whispered.
"I knew you were alive," he said.
"How?"
"Clicks," he answered. She shook her head. "Kalina said the stargate was thirty clicks away," he reminded.
"Oh." She looked down.
"It didn't hit me for a while." He grinned at her. "I thought about coming back. Tracking down one of the Tok'ra and making them tell me where you were."
"Why didn't you?"
"I figured you had a reason." Unconsciously her hand crept up to her face, her fingers finding the ridge of her scar. "A better one than that," he said, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.
"I had to take care of Daniel," she whispered.
"C'mere." Warm arms wrapped around her back, pulling her close to his chest. She sank into him, burying her face into his neck. "I'm gonna take care of you now."
Fin