Title: Enduring Time

Title: Enduring Time Chapter 7

Category: Angst, romance, friendship, drama

Content Level: Age 13+

Content Warnings: Major character death, mild language, sexual situations

Spoilers: Up to and including "Unending"

Summary: Sometimes it feels good to share with a close and dear friend. Sometimes it doesn't take much to warm frozen hands and cheer a desolate heart.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Copyright © 2008 Su Freund

Author's notes: Thanks to ImmerRDA for beta reading this fic and putting up with my idiosyncrasies. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Enduring Time: Chapter 7

Previously:

Deliberately, Sam pulled herself back to the present and realized she had been daydreaming or reminiscing about Jack for hours. She imagined him berating her for that, and telling her to get on with her life, but he remained a huge part of her life, even if he was no longer physically there. It might be upsetting to remember, but the memories were also a comfort. So many of them were good ones.

She could invoke him at a whim, it seemed - his scent, his touch, his smile, his voice. Although these recollections were mere phantoms, they seemed very real to Sam, and she was grateful for them.

The thoughts of phantoms prompted her to consider reality. Getting up from her chair, she went to the phone and called Daniel and Vala, yearning for the consolation of their company, and pleased they were around to provide it. Jack probably would have said something about hating it when Daniel was right, and that thought made Sam smile.

The story continues:

The grief stricken Sam valued the unwavering support Daniel and Vala had provided since Jack's death. Unsurprisingly, Jack's loss hit her hard and the consolation of such dear friends proved essential. Although Sam knew she had to learn to cope with his death on her own, having a shoulder or two to lean on in her bleakest moments helped keep her sane.

The couple had surprised her by renting a cabin nearby so they could see her through this heartbreaking time. Sam wanted time to mourn by herself, to lament and rant and rave as she chose, to adjust to the gut wrenching, soul destroying aloneness.

So, at first, she was concerned Daniel and Vala would intrude too much, try to take over her life. This was before she inadvertently stumbled across such a clear demonstration of Daniel's grief that she realized how much they needed each other - that sharing the sorrow and emptiness might help them both heal.

Daniel had been such a rock in supporting her since Jack's loss that it was easy to forget he must be broken hearted as well. The two men had been close, despite their many differences – like brothers or occasionally even like father and son, despite that Jack was not actually old enough to be Daniel's dad.

Sam was disappointed with herself for being so self-absorbed that she failed to truly consider Daniel's feelings. She should not, however, have been disappointed or surprised. As a grieving widow she had a right to be egocentric. Jack was her husband, her greatest love. She had always loved him and had never stopped – never would. Inevitably, Sam was miserable, feeling so sorry for herself that considering others was not at the forefront of her mind during those first days after his loss.

While she sat waiting for Daniel and Vala to arrive, Sam recalled the day shortly after Jack's funeral when she had first realized the depth of Daniel's grief and need. That bright but chilly day, Teal'c, Vala and Daniel went for a walk in the woods near the cabin, or so Sam thought. She wanted to be alone so did not join her friends, although she enjoyed walking among the trees, having frequently done so both with her husband and alone.

The woodland took on a different character and form with every season, each of its changes beautiful in their own unique way. Sam loved the diverse greens of the trees in late spring and summer, and the different shades of browns, oranges, reds and yellows in the fall. In winter, the starkness of the bare deciduous varieties could be eerie but gloriously regal. When snow lay on the ground and covered their branches, the light would take on a unique tone, and the place could become almost picture book in quality. Spring brought forth buds, which would slowly reach up and unfurl into those diverse greens again. She loved all of these moments.

On some of their many walks together, Jack would regale her with stories of the youth he had spent in this place. He might point to the dilapidated remains of the tree house in which he had played with friends, for example, amusing her with recollections of their fantasies and antics. Or he might indicate other landmarks of his past and reveal small tidbits of his youth.

In balmy weather, the young Jack had often set up camp in those woods and stayed out all night. He had fallen from the branches of one tree and broken his arm, running home in tears. His first real kiss had occurred under a different tree and he had believed himself to be in love. Once, he and his friends had come close to starting a forest fire and his mom grounded Jack for a week.

Sam loved listening to these revelations, learning about Jack's past. He had many good memories of those years and now Sam did too, both those he divulged to her and those they had shared.

When younger, and made of sturdier stuff, Jack and Sam had sometimes made love in those woods, overlooked by wildlife but undisturbed by human souls. Jack would carry a blanket, choosing a secluded spot deep within the tall ancient trees under which to unfold it and seduce her. They were wonderful times.

Until she spied him from the window, Sam was under the mistaken impression Daniel was walking in the woods with Vala and Teal'c. Instead, he was perched on the end of the dock with his feet dangling above the freezing water. His presence there on such a cold day was puzzling, and Sam grew worried when she realized he was not wearing an overcoat. So she pulled on a warm jacket and picked up his coat, slinging it over her arm. Then she ventured outside, shivering as she left the warmth of the cabin and the frigid air hit her.

Daniel did not seem to hear her approaching and as she got closer Sam was shocked to hear him sobbing softly. The peace and quiet carried the sound to her ears from a few yards away. She paused in her step to consider whether she was intruding, then purposefully made her way forward because she was his friend and Sam believed friends should be there for each other.

"Daniel?" she said as she drew near and he turned briefly, his features filled with sorrow.

"Leave me alone," he said, sounding a little like a petulant child.

"I don't think so," she replied, her tone reminding him of Jack. As she sat down next to him, he said nothing, turning his face away as if he did not want her to see his tear streaked cheeks. "What is it Daniel?" she asked, wishing he would face her.

"You don't listen do you? I said leave me alone," he replied irritably.

"Pot and kettle," she commented because Daniel was not a person who would simply leave things be either. He grunted a response. "Talk to me. I'm your friend."

He took a deep breath and turned toward her, eyes reddened with tears, and looking embarrassed as well as upset. "I didn't want you to see me like this, Sam."

She frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Why not?"

Daniel made a humph noise in his throat. "Because… just because."

If Daniel had not been so upset, Sam night have been amused by his child like tone. "What, you're a man and men shouldn't cry?" she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Daniel frequently wore his heart on his sleeve, so she was surprised by his reticence.

He almost chuckled at her comment, brightening slightly and thinking maybe sitting there talking to Sam could be a good thing after all.

"Jack would probably call me a wimp," he said.

"Jack cried – sometimes," responded Sam, daring to place a hand on Daniel's shoulder and squeeze it gently. He didn't shrug it off, which she thought was a good sign.

"He did?" Daniel seemed shocked. He sniffed and reached into his pocket for a tissue, blowing his nose.

"Rarely, admittedly. He didn't like it either. He never wanted anyone to see. Mostly he must have agonized and cried inside, but very occasionally…" She tailed off, sighing and thinking those rare occasions were Jack's definitive demonstration of total trust in her.

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "That's not why. I always was a wimp so nothing's changed," he said self-deprecatingly, a half smile on his lips. "But I'm supposed to be here for you, not the other way around."

Suddenly Sam thought she understood. Daniel was trying to be strong for her in her moment of need and did not want to show his weakness.

"Is it Jack?" she asked and Daniel nodded again, this time in agreement.

"I can't believe he's gone. I'm gonna miss him so much."

"You and me both."

"Yeah."

She said nothing at first, instead proffering the coat she still held over her arm. He smiled weakly and took it from her, throwing it over his shoulders. "Thanks," he said.

She waited a moment for him to settle before speaking again. "You shouldn't feel ashamed of grief, Daniel."

"I'm not, it's just… you need me to be strong." His words confirmed her suspicions. "I've been trying so hard… I've been so worried about you that-that… I haven't had time to think about how I feel. I guess I haven't wanted to think. It-it's only just sinking in."

"Oh Daniel, c'mere," she whispered, echoing Jack, then wrapping an arm around him and pushing his head onto her shoulder and softly stroking his hair. "I know you loved him too. Just cry if you need to. If that's what it takes to mourn, then do it. We should be here for each other. It isn't a one way street."

Sam could feel tears welling up in her own eyes, realizing she should shrug off the notion that Daniel and Vala were going to be an intrusion into her grief. Daniel needed her as much as she needed him. They should mourn Jack's loss together. It was the right thing to do.

Daniel snaked an arm around Sam. They did not speak for a long time and neither of them shed any tears, but they both took comfort from each other's embrace.

"If Jack could have seen me earlier he'd have laughed his ass off," Daniel commented eventually.

"No he wouldn't."

"You think not?"

"Yeah."

Daniel shivered and drew away, pulling the coat on and groping in its pockets for a pair of gloves. They were missing and he swore under his breath, glancing at Sam. She grasped one of his hands, which was icy cold.

"I think we'd better continue this inside," she said getting up and tugging his hand gently to encourage him to follow. Sam did not know how long he had been out there before she spotted him, but probably too long in such a chill. They were both old and the elderly require warmth.

He grimaced. "I guess you're right."

"You can drink a warming brandy or two while I heat some soup. You need to thaw out."

"Probably," he agreed and they started toward the cabin until Daniel paused in his step. Sam eyed him curiously. "I just wanted to mourn my friend alone, say goodbye, you know? That's why I came out here to the dock."

She nodded understanding. "I get it, but we could do this together. If you're hanging around Minnesota for me, then let me be here for you too. Mutual support is good."

He said nothing and started walking again. When they got inside, Sam led him to a chair by the fire in the living room.

"Get yourself warm. I'll pour that brandy and put some soup on the stove."

Jack and Sam made the cabin their home and refurbished the place when they moved there permanently. During more infrequent visits, some of the less comfortable and quaint things about the cabin had not seemed to matter. Once they decided to move, Sam persuaded Jack they needed some luxury in their lives.

Thus, they extended the place, making it much larger and more visitor friendly, and they changed the furnishings to the cozier comfy kind. They stripped and replaced the kitchen, equipping it with more modern appliances. Sam wanted an easy retirement after the long years of hard work, and Jack did not take much persuading to fall in with her plans.

The couch and chairs they had purchased were the adjustable kind you could sink into and relax, covered in lushly soft dark brown leather, and Daniel sat on one of these chairs now. Cold, he took no immediate advantage of the chair's more luxurious features.

The chair's cushions were plump with soft filling. The back could tilt to a horizontal position and it had a built in footrest which extended to fit even the tallest of people. A lever on the side easily accessed all of these features. So comfortable were the chairs that one could easily sleep in their welcoming embrace. But Daniel sat on the edge of his as close to the fire as he could get, warming his frozen fingers.

When Sam returned shortly, she passed him the drink and sat on the couch opposite with one of her own. She was willing to talk all he wanted, or just sit quietly. Whatever it took.

It was not long before he returned to the subject of Jack. Now she had started him off, it seemed he needed to get some things off his chest. That pleased Sam. They could mourn, laugh or cry and become angry and frustrated together. Maybe it would help both of them.

"We were friends for a long time," he said, staring into the fire and watching its flames dance and flicker. Real log fires can be alluring, if not downright hypnotizing. "Damn it, he was my best friend! Who'd have thunk?" he added with a small smile to himself.

Sam smiled too at his use of a Jack like phrase. It was true that the two men were strange bedfellows, but circumstances had flung them together when in any other life they might never have become friends. That bonding was hard to break even if you wished to.

"A very long time," she echoed but she wasn't certain Daniel heard.

"Funny, isn't it? Jack and I were like chalk and cheese, but…" He trailed off thoughtfully. Theirs had been a peculiar kind of friendship, but a true one.

"Yeah. Actually, you always seemed more Laurel and Hardy to me," she said with a grin and Daniel laughed.

"Which one of us was which?" he enquired, glancing at her with an arched eyebrow.

"I'll let you figure that one out," she retorted with a smirk.

Simultaneously, they paused to sip their drinks, the warming liquid sliding down their throats with ease. Warmer now, Daniel sank back in the cozy chair, adjusting it so the back tilted slightly and the foot rest sprang out. Sam noted the small smile that curled up the corners of his lips and wrinkled his eyes.

"I so love these chairs. Vala and I should get a couple," he said with a contented sounding sigh.

"They are probably the most expensive single items of furniture we ever bought," she commented with a smile, "but sooo worth it."

Daniel fell silent for a while, nursing the remains of his brandy by turning the glass in his hands. "He could drive me nuts," he said suddenly and Sam looked over to him and nodded, but he remained distracted by the fire, so missed the acknowledgement.

"Sure," she agreed. "He could drive everyone nuts." Jack O'Neill could sometimes be the most infuriating and frustrating person in the world, she thought, but he made up for it in so many other ways. There was something about him. Sam did not know what it was, but just something indefinable. Charisma perhaps.

"I know I could make him crazy too," Daniel said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes you could. Back when we were SG-1, you two could chip away at each other all day and drive the rest of us crazy too, even the usually stoic Teal'c." She smiled wistfully at the memory.

"Did we?" he said, raising his eyes to meet hers.

"Sometimes. Actually, now I think of it, even after SG-1 you two continued to do it." She tossed back her drink, placing the empty glass on the small table at the side of the couch.

Daniel sniggered and rolled his eyes. "All of our lives. We were so different, and he never could take me seriously."

She peered at him curiously, not certain if he really believed that or not. Maybe he did, but it was not true.

"He listened to you more than you ever knew," she countered and he gesticulated with a dismissive hand.

"He never listened to me!" he declared emphatically.

"That's crap. He admired you, Daniel, respected you."

His expression was disbelieving. "Didn't seem that way."

"Well, you know Jack. He never made it easy to read him, and sometimes what we saw was what he wanted us to see, not what he held in his heart."

Daniel snorted with frustration and then nodded, shrugging. "I know," he said and a smile appeared on his face, "but he could be such an asshole."

Sam tittered. Daniel was right about that one, but it had never stopped either of them loving him in their own different ways. "Yes he could, but he was our kind of asshole," she replied.

He grinned, but it faded quickly and he appeared reflective. Saying nothing for a while, he seemed to stare off into space. Then he swiftly finished his drink but continued holding the glass and turning it in his hands.

"So how come we all loved him, huh?" he asked abruptly looking toward her. When she responded, Sam's demeanor was jokingly mocking as she widened her eyes, looked at him as if he were stupid, and waved her hands in a gesture that seemed to convey the answer was obvious.

"Duh! Because he was Jack O'Neill, for crying out loud!"

Daniel laughed outright at her comical tone. It felt good sitting there with Sam trying to cheer him up. "So that explains it?" he said, his own expression humorously incredulous.

"Amazingly, yes." She winked at her friend. "Although I suppose I could be accused of bias."

"Yes, I suppose you could," he replied with a grin. "Not sure I can remember a time when we actually agreed about anything..."

Sam raised a hand to halt him and sniffed the air. "Hold that thought. I'd better check the soup."

She got up and Daniel decided to follow her out to the kitchen. "Smells good," he said.

"Home made. I made it yesterday, so it just needed reheating." Sam was leaning over the pot of soup, stirring, and she lifted the spoon to her mouth to taste it. "Mmmm. Perfect. Here." She ladled some soup into a bowl and handed it to Daniel with some bread on a plate. Go, sit," she ordered, waving him over to the table. Then she served some soup for herself and joined him.

Daniel sipped a spoonful of soup and made an appreciate noise. "Delicious."

Sam was delighted. "I remember the first time Jack and I created that soup."

Daniel looked at her with surprise. "Jack and you? Jack never cooked. Neither did you."

"Yeah, well that's our TEI soup," she said with a grin, forming the initials into a word rather than enunciating them separately.

"Thai? Doesn't taste very Thai," he said dubiously. It tasted good, but not anything like he would expect from Thai food.

"Not Thai, TEI," she explained, which did nothing to illuminate Daniel's understanding. He saw a wicked glint in her eye and knew she was teasing but did not get the joke.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked good-humouredly, sipping another spoonful of the soup and Sam laughed.

"Throw everything in – TEI." This time she spelled out the initials.

Daniel stared at her in disbelief, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and then he laughed.

"You mean you make it up as you go along?"

"Something like that, yeah." He noticed her eyes drift off into a dreamlike state, knew she was remembering, and waited for her to elucidate. "Jack and I could be hopeless about shopping for food," she started after a lengthy pause. "So, one time when we were staying here we just threw everything we had into a pot – leftover vegetables, a little bacon, a few cold chicken scraps, tomatoes, whatever – added stock cubes and water and hey presto…"

"TEI soup," he finished for her.

"That's about it. Jack coined the phrase. You know what he could be like. It became a one of those little private jokes, know what I mean?" Daniel nodded, knowing exactly what she meant because he and Vala shared plenty of those. Sam chuckled and shrugged. "At the time we were pretty hysterical with laughter. I guess you had to be there."

Daniel smiled, tucking into the soup and bread with gusto. Sam followed suit, but he could see she had drifted into private thoughts and wondered what she was thinking.

"Penny for 'em," he said and she started, looking up at him with a huge grin.

"Can't go there. You really do not want to know what else we got up to that night."

In fact, Jack had snuck up behind her as she was stirring the soup, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the back of her neck. His hands snaked up to her breasts and he started to seduce her. They had ended up making love right there on the kitchen table, where she and Daniel now sat eating. They never ate the soup that night. Neither of them was bothered about eating in the face of other preoccupations. But it tasted surprisingly good the next day.

"TEI soup," Daniel said, bringing her back to the present day. He laughed. "You know something, Sam? Sometimes you can be just as much of an asshole as Jack."

She met his eyes and saw the mirth in them. "Of course. A match made in heaven," she said with a wicked grin and Daniel rolled his eyes.

"I guess," he replied, meeting her smirk with one of his own.

After that, they had more soup and bread, eating in silence, until Sam spoke again.

"He loved you too, Daniel. Believe me. Every time you were injured, went missing, ascended, died… you could see it in his eyes. No matter how much you two disagreed about anything, how much you irritated him… it was always there." Daniel did not respond, but she could see her words pleased him. "Feeling better?" she asked.

He knew she was not referring to thawing out from the cold. She was talking about his grief.

"Yeah," he replied, smiling.

"Me too."

And they both were, for now. Sure, they would have ups and downs while they grieved. That is the way of things when you lose someone you love. But sometimes it feels good to share with a close and dear friend. Sometimes it doesn't take much to warm frozen hands and cheer a desolate heart.

TBC