Author's Notes: Almost done...
Light flashed again and Daniel found himself sitting in a bedroom, at a desk that faced a window. Crinkling his brow, he saw the quiet street outside – it was obviously suburban – he saw a woman walking her dog and could see a young boy across the street, stargazing in the front yard with his father, who was pointing out the first stars of the early evening.
Looking at his surroundings inside, Daniel examined his studies. Illuminated in the darkened room by a small, but bright desk lamp, Daniel saw several books piled up: Chemistry, Calculus, Sociology... he hadn't taken these classes since high school... in fact, he remembered being distinctly irritated with the sociology class, finding he already knew far more about paradigms and social structure than the flimsy 300 page text and even flimsier teacher could ever tell him.
Directly in front of Daniel, however, were rubbings of an ancient text. It was a narrative... one of the first languages Daniel had learned when he was just a boy and one of his first loves. He read over the script and smiled... he remembered doing this; he'd pored over it again and again, putting his already disciplined brain through little tests and games, sharpening his knowledge of the culture and context and intricacies... but he hadn't done this here... not in this place. This was completely unfamiliar to him.
Puzzled over what was going on in this particular scene of potentiality, Daniel was broken out of his reverie by a knock at the door. He turned in his seat and almost fell out of it when he saw a familiar face peer around it.
Daniel's father smiled and entered the room.
"Sorry, Danny. I know you're studying." He came up beside his son, peering over to the parchment on the desk. "Ah. Good choice." He affirmed as his eyes skimmed over the text. "Your mother took that rubbing at –"
"I remember." Daniel interrupted, finding himself entirely lost in the moment, staring at his father, slightly older than he remembered. "I was six. I remember her teaching me the symbols."
Melbourne Jackson placed a hand affectionately on his son's head, smoothing the fair hair... Daniel couldn't prevent the moisture that began gathering at the corners of his eyes.
Bringing his other hand around, Daniel's father placed a small package in front of him and on top of the parchment. "I wanted to give you this, Danny. I was going to wait, but... I thought maybe you might enjoy it." He waited. "Open it." He encouraged as Daniel continued staring, memorizing his father's face all over again. Blinking a few times, he forced himself to look down at the small, clumsily wrapped package. Tugging the twine, Daniel pulled away the rough, heavy brown paper to reveal a battered but well-loved copy of the Book of the Dead. He recognized it immediately.
"But this is yours." Daniel held the book out, as if to give it back.
Melbourne nodded and smiled. "Like I said, I thought you might like to have it at school... UCLA is pretty far away, and your mom and I will be in Egypt... it'll be a little piece of home."
"It's from you and it's from Egypt." Daniel mumbled thoughtfully.
"Egypt is in your blood, Daniel. You've done so well; your mother and I..."Melbourne nodded again and placed his hand on his son's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, Danny."
---
"Why." Daniel stared piercingly at Fortuna. "Why me?" he questioned again, his anger and irritation barely contained.
"Why not you?" She responded.
Daniel clenched his jaw and turned away, willing himself to regain some sort of composure before facing her again. "Why won't you tell me how this is possible?"
"That is not important."
"It is!" All self-control was lost as Daniel gave a frustrated hop and waved his arms about. "It is important! I don't understand how –"
"There is no trick, Daniel." Fortuna interrupted... and for the first time, there was something similar to compassion in her voice. "You are in a position to change your life."
Daniel sat heavily on his cot. "But if I choose to change things for me, everything changes." he looked at Fortuna for confirmation. "I mean, if I decided to act differently..." he shrugged his shoulders, going through the possibilities. "I bring Sha're back through the gate with me, the Abydonians bury it, we never meet Teal'c. Kawalsky stays alive. Sam never is blended with Jolinar. We never meet the Tok'ra. Sam's father dies of cancer. I mean, all of that could happen, right? You change one thing and everything else could change."
The impartial tone came back. "It could."
Daniel stood again, crossing one arm over his chest while holding up a finger, asking for patience while he processed scenarios. "But I could also go back far enough so that Jack's son doesn't die; so that Sam's mother doesn't die; Dreyauc..." he raised his eyebrows and gave a sardonic smile. "I could go back to being an academic disgrace, Jack would never go through the gate on that first mission to Abydos, Sam would go into the astronaut program…" the smile went away "...but Teal'c would still be a slave to Apophis.
"It is a possibility."
Daniel threw up both hands and made a face. "But there's still no telling if I went back all that way and everything stayed exactly the same. There's no telling whether I go back all that way and everything turns out worse than I could ever even imagine." He looked half-accusingly, half-thougtfully, at Fortuna. "You've shown me the good things that are possible, but I haven't seen any of the bad."
"Would you like to see the bad?" she asked, still expressionless.
"No." Daniel replied quickly. "No, thanks." he paused and thought again before continuing. "Look, I can't do this. I don't have the right to change anything. Not for myself, not for Sha're, not for Jack or Sam or Teal'c." Daniel resumed his place on the cot, leaning wearily against the adjacent wall.
"Are you sure, Daniel? You could have it all back. You could have your parents and your wife."
Eyes closed, Daniel nodded. "I understand."
"There will be no changing your mind." Fortuna knelt before him, staring intently. "Are you absolutely certain?"
---
"Come to bed, husband..."
"Danny, I'm so proud of you..."
"Charlie! Hey Charlie! I brought you something!"
---
"Why are you doing this?!" Daniel's eyes were open again as he pleaded for respite, and he was sitting forward, hands grasping the edge of the cot.
Fortuna remained kneeling in front of him, her voice and face finally truly and fully impassioned. "Would not the potential good be worth the risk of the potential bad? Haven't you always wanted the chance to change things?"
"Of course," Daniel replied in earnest. "but… but one man can't have that power. No matter how much I want it – that – that doesn't make it right!"
Fortuna leaned back and stood, all emotion washed away once more. "I will ask again: you are certain you will not take anything back?"
Daniel remained forward, his eyes and voice full of resolve. "I'm certain."
"It is as you say, Daniel."