TITLE: Understanding
AUTHOR: Cyn(di)
EMAIL: custardpringle@yahoo.com
RATING: PG (Mild language)
CATEGORY: Angst, missing scene, POV
SUMMARY: Daniel watches his friends grieve for him.
SPOILERS: Meridian, very minor for Revelations
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism would be
highly appreciated. Praise is nice too.
And before people start complaining about accuracy: The end is meant to
correlate with "Revelations"; the scene with Sam is not.
-------------------------------------------------- Daniel wished he could have explained better. He didn't want to see them suffering like this, believing him to be lost forever. There had been no time, though. He had had to stop Jacob-- and quickly. Daniel had only had a moment to speak to Jack, to say goodbye.
---
The worst, though, had been watching them right afterwards. Even had Daniel explained more thoroughly, they wouldn't have gotten it then. They were far too stunned, staring at the straight line crossing the monitor as if, by willing it so, it could start moving again. Daniel could sympathize; he had been the same way for a moment. All his thought beforehand, all his conversation with Oma Desala, all his listening to his friends by his bedside had not prepared him for that one simple realization: I'm dead.
Worst of all, they had been trying to save him, and he had told them to stop. Daniel hadn't even thought about it at first. He had simply trusted Oma Desala's judgment. It hadn't been until later that he had realized that he would rather be dead than half-alive.
But he had faith that Jack would eventually comprehend, and explain to the others that they need not mourn. Jack always understood.
-----
Understanding wasn't helping Jack much at the moment. Nor was it helping the unfortunate punching bag upon which Jack had chosen to vent his frustration.
Daniel felt a twinge of relief not to be Jack's sparring partner and on the receiving end of that pummeling. Relief swiftly became guilt, though; he knew that, were he there, the pummeling would never be taking place at all. He also knew that, in the long run, this would ultimately be therapeutic. Right now, however, Jack was inclined to abuse that punching bagm and he continued for almost an hour.
Finally, the colonel sat down and mutterd-- almost as though he knew his friend was there-- "Dammit, Daniel. Why the hell did you have to be such a hero?"
-----
Why indeed? Daniel wondered. Come to think of it, he wasn't certain. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
It was a good idea.
But he hadn't foreseen this, hadn't realized until too late. He should have known that he and his friends (more than friends, almost family by now) would have to suffer to balance out the preserved lives of a million others.
It was fair, Daniel supposed. But it wasn't just.
O'Neill had covered his face with his hands. Daniel didn't want to watch this, especially not when he himself felt so uncertain. Perhaps Teal'c was meditating. Maybe Daniel could join him and gain a measure of stability.
-----
Teal'c was indeed going through kal-no-reem in an attempt to control his emotions. He wasn't doing very well, though. At first glance, Daniel envied his apparent serenity, but he soon noticed that the normally stoic Jaffa's fists were clenched in an effort to focus and remain calm. Far from being relieved, Daniel found that he was more troubled than before.
He wished he could reach out and reassure Teal'c, but he wasn't sure he could.
-----
Again he was forced to wonder: Was this worth it? True, Daniel had saved a million lives, giving only his own in return. But of those million, all but one were strangers, and all but a very few believed he had been acting against them. They had probably smiled to hear of his death. On the other hand, here, now, the threepeople he cared about most were in terrible pain. Just as much as he had been in-- but different, and deeper. More disturbed than ever, Daniel fled to the security and familiarity of his old office.
-----
Even that was not the sanctuary he had been hoping for, because Sam was there. She had recovered those last notes he had written-- awkwardly, with his left hand, in the first few hours before it too became useless. She placed them gently, almost reverently, on his desk, then sat down and looked around at everything her friend had left behind. She could not know that Daniel shared her thoughts at that moment:
All these hundreds of of books and papers-- his entire life for the past five years-- had no purpose now. They would be disposed of, in time, like so much refuse. And what would be left of Daniel Jackson then?
Daniel himself had already relized this, and accepted it, although he worried about what would happen to his many valuable artifacts. To Sam, though, it was a new, unexpected, and entirely overwhelming idea. She buried her face in her arms and burst into tears.
His first reaction was that his work would be blotched, and he would have to rewrite it, but he swiftly dismissed this as unimportant and outdated. A second, stronger reaction swiftly took over, which was that Daniel would have given just about anything right then to have hands so that he could pat Sam on the back.
He felt terribly helpless, but he stayed this time, hoping that she might somehow sense his presence and be slightly comforted.
-----
Maybe that worked, maybe it didn't, but eventually Sam departed, and Daniel was at last left to himself. No one else entered the office for a while, and he was free to spend some time bidding farewell to his past existence. He went through some of his old work, but kept returning to that last sheaf of papers.
Even though Daniel had wrtten them himself, they might as well have been in an unknown language; unsurprisingly, they were almost illegible. But he could decipher them, gradually, and they reminded him sharply of his discoveries about those ancient naquadriah experiments. Daniel knew now, with more certainty than ever, what would have happened had he not done what he did.
At last, he was sure that he had done the right thing, no matter how much pain it caused his friends.
-----
So, finally, Daniel summoned the courage to reveal his presence, if only for a moment.
Teal'c, logical as always, dismissed it as a fault in the ventilators-- but with a hint of uncertainty. Sam didn't look convinced, either. And Jack agreed with Teal'c, apparently casually-- but there was that little knowing smile on his face.
Jack always understood.
--------------------------------------------------
"Though we pass like dreams, our spirits stay,
Held fast by love which is just what we are,
Yet in a form that cannot be destroyed.
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
...
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there."
---Anonymous, "I Did Not Die"
--------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------- Daniel wished he could have explained better. He didn't want to see them suffering like this, believing him to be lost forever. There had been no time, though. He had had to stop Jacob-- and quickly. Daniel had only had a moment to speak to Jack, to say goodbye.
---
The worst, though, had been watching them right afterwards. Even had Daniel explained more thoroughly, they wouldn't have gotten it then. They were far too stunned, staring at the straight line crossing the monitor as if, by willing it so, it could start moving again. Daniel could sympathize; he had been the same way for a moment. All his thought beforehand, all his conversation with Oma Desala, all his listening to his friends by his bedside had not prepared him for that one simple realization: I'm dead.
Worst of all, they had been trying to save him, and he had told them to stop. Daniel hadn't even thought about it at first. He had simply trusted Oma Desala's judgment. It hadn't been until later that he had realized that he would rather be dead than half-alive.
But he had faith that Jack would eventually comprehend, and explain to the others that they need not mourn. Jack always understood.
-----
Understanding wasn't helping Jack much at the moment. Nor was it helping the unfortunate punching bag upon which Jack had chosen to vent his frustration.
Daniel felt a twinge of relief not to be Jack's sparring partner and on the receiving end of that pummeling. Relief swiftly became guilt, though; he knew that, were he there, the pummeling would never be taking place at all. He also knew that, in the long run, this would ultimately be therapeutic. Right now, however, Jack was inclined to abuse that punching bagm and he continued for almost an hour.
Finally, the colonel sat down and mutterd-- almost as though he knew his friend was there-- "Dammit, Daniel. Why the hell did you have to be such a hero?"
-----
Why indeed? Daniel wondered. Come to think of it, he wasn't certain. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
It was a good idea.
But he hadn't foreseen this, hadn't realized until too late. He should have known that he and his friends (more than friends, almost family by now) would have to suffer to balance out the preserved lives of a million others.
It was fair, Daniel supposed. But it wasn't just.
O'Neill had covered his face with his hands. Daniel didn't want to watch this, especially not when he himself felt so uncertain. Perhaps Teal'c was meditating. Maybe Daniel could join him and gain a measure of stability.
-----
Teal'c was indeed going through kal-no-reem in an attempt to control his emotions. He wasn't doing very well, though. At first glance, Daniel envied his apparent serenity, but he soon noticed that the normally stoic Jaffa's fists were clenched in an effort to focus and remain calm. Far from being relieved, Daniel found that he was more troubled than before.
He wished he could reach out and reassure Teal'c, but he wasn't sure he could.
-----
Again he was forced to wonder: Was this worth it? True, Daniel had saved a million lives, giving only his own in return. But of those million, all but one were strangers, and all but a very few believed he had been acting against them. They had probably smiled to hear of his death. On the other hand, here, now, the threepeople he cared about most were in terrible pain. Just as much as he had been in-- but different, and deeper. More disturbed than ever, Daniel fled to the security and familiarity of his old office.
-----
Even that was not the sanctuary he had been hoping for, because Sam was there. She had recovered those last notes he had written-- awkwardly, with his left hand, in the first few hours before it too became useless. She placed them gently, almost reverently, on his desk, then sat down and looked around at everything her friend had left behind. She could not know that Daniel shared her thoughts at that moment:
All these hundreds of of books and papers-- his entire life for the past five years-- had no purpose now. They would be disposed of, in time, like so much refuse. And what would be left of Daniel Jackson then?
Daniel himself had already relized this, and accepted it, although he worried about what would happen to his many valuable artifacts. To Sam, though, it was a new, unexpected, and entirely overwhelming idea. She buried her face in her arms and burst into tears.
His first reaction was that his work would be blotched, and he would have to rewrite it, but he swiftly dismissed this as unimportant and outdated. A second, stronger reaction swiftly took over, which was that Daniel would have given just about anything right then to have hands so that he could pat Sam on the back.
He felt terribly helpless, but he stayed this time, hoping that she might somehow sense his presence and be slightly comforted.
-----
Maybe that worked, maybe it didn't, but eventually Sam departed, and Daniel was at last left to himself. No one else entered the office for a while, and he was free to spend some time bidding farewell to his past existence. He went through some of his old work, but kept returning to that last sheaf of papers.
Even though Daniel had wrtten them himself, they might as well have been in an unknown language; unsurprisingly, they were almost illegible. But he could decipher them, gradually, and they reminded him sharply of his discoveries about those ancient naquadriah experiments. Daniel knew now, with more certainty than ever, what would have happened had he not done what he did.
At last, he was sure that he had done the right thing, no matter how much pain it caused his friends.
-----
So, finally, Daniel summoned the courage to reveal his presence, if only for a moment.
Teal'c, logical as always, dismissed it as a fault in the ventilators-- but with a hint of uncertainty. Sam didn't look convinced, either. And Jack agreed with Teal'c, apparently casually-- but there was that little knowing smile on his face.
Jack always understood.
--------------------------------------------------
"Though we pass like dreams, our spirits stay,
Held fast by love which is just what we are,
Yet in a form that cannot be destroyed.
Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
...
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there."
---Anonymous, "I Did Not Die"
--------------------------------------------------