Safe Harbor
Spoilers: Once again, major Lifeboat spoilers (it is an episode tag, after all.) There's also a spoiler for the season seven premier Fallen/Homecoming, and more spoilers for Season three's Legacy.
Warnings: One little swear word hidden in there. Blink and you'll miss it.
Author's Note: Well, here it is. Chapter two. It's kind of short, but I really hope you enjoy it. I've been kind of busy with school lately and haven't had much time for writing (at least not anything I actually wanted to write.) I've decided to leave this story at two chapters, at least for now, because the longer it's out of my mind the harder it is to get it on paper. There was just one scene that I had to get down on paper before I felt comfortable ending the story, and now that I've got it, I'm going to move on to other projects. If inspiration strikes, or if the response to this chapter is good enough, I may continue it, get back to the full extent of my original vision. For now, however, that's all she wrote.
Thanks again to Shellgazer and Bannerlee for their help and encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you, guys!
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, (though I wouldn't say no to Daniel) nor do I own Pasta Roni, unless you count the boxes of it in my kitchen cupboards. Suing me would be pointless as I am broke.
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Chapter Two
"They're in your mind, Martice."
I'm back in the isolation room again. I can't see Janet, but I can hear her. I'm standing by the two-way mirror at one end of the room. My hands, in restraints, are cupped over my ears.
"No. No no no no no no, what you say cannot be so. I have responsibilities to attend to. I-I cannot remain here!"
As I say this I turn. I catch a glimpse of Janet out of the corner of my eye, standing next to a gurney in the middle of the room. I walk to the other side and pace. My body's moving and talking, but I'm not the one controlling it.
"You cannot leave!"
"3,000 of our people depend on me to lead them. I am their sovereign, they have sworn an oath to me."
"I'm sorry."
"It is my destiny to rule over Ardena!"
"No listen. You don't understand the seriousness of your condition."
"And you still don't realize who you are talking to!"
I suddenly find myself overcome by a feeling of anger toward her that is so strong it scares me. I feel my hand reaching toward her. If I wasn't restrained I think I probably would have hurt her.
"I don't give a damn! You don't belong in that man's body and I intend to take it back!"
The being in control of my body recoils at Janet's intensity. Even I'm a little stunned. I've never heard her like this before.
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A tug on my fishing line startles me out of my slumber. I jump, and Jack looks over at me.
"You okay?"
"Sure," I say, trying to sound casual and likely failing miserably. "I think I've actually got one."
If I do sound strange Jack doesn't seem to notice. "Well, reel it in already," he says, as I start to do just that.
I fight with the good-sized fish for a while, finally managing to get it on the deck, where it flops around a bit before finally laying still. It's enough to get us all dinner and still have plenty of leftovers. Next comes the fun part: cleaning and gutting. I think I'll leave that to Jack though. Every time something bad happens on his watch, he goes into his "mother hen" mode. So, I may as well take advantage of it.
We both take our chairs back and Jack carries my fish into the kitchen. He tosses it onto the counter with a flourish, announcing, "once again, the men-folk have provided dinner, and now it's time for the women to cook up the feast." If anyone but Jack O'Neill had said that, he probably would have gotten slapped by at least one, and quite possibly both, of these women. In response to the acid glares they both toss his way, he throws up his hands in a gesture of surrender and starts the messy job of filleting the fish.
The minute Jack's back is turned, those glares turn to smiles and Janet starts rummaging in the cabinets for ingredients to make a marinade. Janet's cooking is always excellent and I look forward to tasting whatever she comes up with this time.
Twenty minutes later, they are finished prepping the fish. It's marinating in a honey-mustard sauce that smells great. Jack and I don't, so we head upstairs to shower. Jack beat me back to the sitting room and I catch the last part of the conversation.
"…Cassandra while we're here, anyway?" Jack asks Janet.
"Oh she's staying with a friend for a few days," she replies, before excusing herself to start getting together the rest of the meal. I offer my assistance, as an excuse to talk to her alone.
I've learned the hard way that avoiding problems doesn't make them go away; it just makes them multiply. It didn't take me long to figure out that the dream I had on the dock was really a memory. As I was in the shower, mulling it over, my mind started to fill in some of the blanks. Apparently I didn't come out of this experience with as little memory as I thought. It seems that at least some of the memories are still there and it seems likely that, as when I first came back to Earth from Vis Uban, the memories will come back on their own and the only thing to do is to deal with them as they come.
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I follow Janet into the kitchen, asking how I can help. When I close the door, it earns me a strange look from Janet, but she decides not to press the issue. She starts the fish cooking and assigns me the task of figuring out side dishes. I look through the kitchen and find a box of Pasta Roni, angel hair pasta with herbs, and some corn in the freezer. I measure out the water, milk, and butter for the pasta and set it on the stove to boil, according to the instructions on the box.
Now that dinner is underway, I broach the subject of my dream on the dock.
"Janet?"
"Yes?" She turns and looks at me. Whatever she sees on my face, it must not be good because when she continues she sounds worried. "Daniel, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just… I was just wondering. When I was in isolation before, I remember I was in restraints. Why is that?"
She hesitates, probably trying to decide how best to phrase her answer. "Well, some of your… visitors weren't very nice."
"Like Martice." It's a statement, not a question. I already know what she's going to say.
At this, she scrutinizes me further. "Yeah, like Martice. Why?"
"Well, when I was fishing with Jack earlier, I had what I would like to call a nightmare. However, the unfortunate fact is that it actually happened."
Her voice is softer when she next continues. "You're starting to remember."
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"Martice was hearing the voices of the others. He, well all he cared about was his reign as sovereign. You tried to tell him that the situation was far more serious than that. He wouldn't listen."
As I speak, I see the realization in her features. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops slightly open, which all tells me one thing; she knows what's coming next.
"And as he reached out, I could feel his anger towards you. I could feel exactly what he would have done if he hadn't been restrained. His desire to wrap his hands—my hands—around your throat. He was in a situation where he didn't have all the power, and he wanted to take it back, no matter who he hurt in the process."
Janet clearly has no idea what to say to this, so after a minute I rescue her.
Actually, there's something else I've been wanting to talk to you about."
She visibly shakes her head in an effort to focus on what I'm saying now. "What's that?"
"It's not your fault."
Her surprised look is replaced by a carefully neutral expression as she realizes what I mean.
"What's not my fault?" She asks, though we both know she's well aware what I'm talking about.
"None of it. Nothing that happened to me was your fault. Not even the fact that I ended up in isolation and restraints. None of it."
"And what makes you think I was blaming myself?"
"Janet, I know you. I also know that after the incident with Ma'chello's little toys you blamed yourself for locking me up in Mental Health."
The minute I mention Ma'chello, pain contorts her features briefly. I feel bad for reopening this wound, but this is something I never really told her at the time, and she needs to hear it.
"Janet, I know how you feel about what happened back then, but you need to know that it wasn't your fault. At first, I tried to blame you. Wanted to. But I couldn't. You did everything you could to help me. You ran all the tests you could, and they all led to the same conclusion. You had no reason to believe it was due to any alien influence. Eventually the only thing left to do was to make sure I didn't hurt myself, or anyone else. Hell, even I was worried you might be right! It wasn't your fault." I put special emphasis on the last sentence, to make sure she's getting this. Looking at her face, I'm pleased to realize she is. She still doesn't seem completely convinced, but seems to understand I don't blame her. And so, I press on.
"So again you were faced with the necessity of locking me up, and once again you made absolutely the right decision; the only decision that you could make. I still don't blame you. So there's just one more thing I want to say."
Her voice is unusually quiet when she responds, and I think I hear a hint of a tremble in it. "What's that?"
"Thank you for fighting so hard to get me back."
I smile, feeling much better for having gotten that off my chest. I look down at Janet and can see that she feels better too. I don't think she's forgiven herself for either incident, I don't know if she ever really will, but I hope she's taken the first step on that path.
The End…
…for now
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Well, there it is. The end of my first fanfiction. Short but sweet, or at least, I like to think so. I hope you liked it, and I hope more will be coming. I had a lot of fun, and I want to thank BizzyLizzy and Terri16 for your kind words. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as you enjoyed the first.