KWAIDAN - A weird tale.
Kwaidan: stories and studies of strange things.
Daniel, recently returned from Ascension is hearing voices. Is he recalling vital memories or is he being haunted?
Chapter 1of 8
Daniel shut the door to his apartment with a sigh. It had been a very long day. The faint odour of fresh paint still hung in the air, sharing the atmosphere with the musty smell of books stored too long and an underlying tang of beeswax. Dropping his keys on the table he hung his jacket in the closet, and made his way to the kitchen.
As he waited for the coffee to brew he let his thoughts drift back over the day. His damned Swiss cheese memory had played him for a fool yet again. So many major things were now fully restored and at his mental fingertips, and yet the silliest things sometimes still eluded him. Standing in the commissary he had surveyed the day's culinary selection dubiously, realising that in this simple matter he couldn't remember what his preferences were, but give him a translation of the most obscure dialect and he knew every nuance. Thankfully Teal'c had been behind him, stopping him from making the wrong choice. His careful reminder that 'Daniel Jackson' was allergic to that particular dish saved everyone a very uncomfortable time.
The wonderful aroma of fresh coffee brought his wandering thoughts back. Grabbing a handful of cookies from the jar he settled himself on the couch. He still wasn't used to the layout or the unfamiliar view but this was home now. He had fought hard to get off the base, finding the four walls of the guest-room claustrophobic. He had argued that if they trusted him enough to go through the Stargate on missions that could save the Earth then surely they could trust him to get to and from his own home.
The frustration he felt now was a huge improvement on his initial feelings. The time he had spent as Arrom had been terrifying. To have no sense of self had been almost overwhelming. He had clamped his emotions down so hard that he couldn't feel a thing, and that was how he wanted it, how he needed it. Should he let go, even for a moment, he had the absurd feeling that he would shatter into a million pieces to be flung from one end of the galaxy to the other, never to be restored. He still felt that way though he was sure the others didn't suspect anything. His head told him these were his friends, that he could trust them with his life; and he probably would, but his heart was lost in some limbo. His returning memories had crowded him with loss after loss, battering at his senses until he wanted to scream and shout and punch his fists into the nearest wall. A side of himself that must never be let loose. Instead he showed the world a calm face, gave them measured tones and the occasional smile, hiding himself deeper and deeper.
A second cup of coffee relaxed him a little, contrary to the usual effect of caffeine on his system. He munched another cookie and mused that Sam had been right, he did like them. And that was another thing that he found so damned confusing, his relationships within the team. From his returning memories he knew just how things had been between them, all the dynamics, all the emotions, but he found himself still judging everyone and everything by his first impressions as 'Arrom'. Though he knew that he and Jack were good friends, that he could trust his life to the colonel without a second thought, it had been to Teal'c that he had gone for information. The stoic Jaffa wouldn't hide the truth from him in order to 'spare his feelings'. He had asked Teal'c to explain what had led to his expulsion from his other existence; and he had been given them in all their damning details. His failure to save Abydos, the place he adored most in the galaxy, had been spectacular in its fall out, gone because of him. In his arrogance and desperation he had underestimated Anubis.
Sitting in that tent, waiting for the world to crush him, he had made snap judgements about his erstwhile team. Jack had a wall around him that Daniel could almost see, and that sat at odds with the relationship he now knew they had shared. And then there was Sam. He sighed out his frustration. Closer than brother and sister, friends in a way that he had never experienced with a woman before, she was very dear to him. His initial thought when he had seen her, seen the concern in her eyes as she approached him that first time, had been just how beautiful she was. Even though he didn't know who she was he had felt connected to her somehow, and the question had slipped past his lips before he could stop it. Now, every time he saw her, his heart gave a lurch that was an uncomfortable reminder that they were not close in that way and never had been… and never would be.
Musing was getting him nowhere. Downing the last of his coffee he found a knife and began opening the boxes stacked around the room. Most of his stuff had been stored at the base, with some at Jack's place and the rest in Sam's basement. And although Jack had said they had disposed of a lot of it, from what Daniel could remember most of his possessions were still here. Books took up most of the packing cases. As he unearthed them, he let his fingers trace down each spine, opening pages to glance at various passages before arranging them on the brand new shelving. Daylight faded outside his window and soon he needed the lights on to continue. Working diligently he finally had all the books sorted and up in their rightful place - just the last of the artefacts to unpack now. His clothes had been given to the goodwill and a brand new set of clothing now hung in the closet and rested in the drawers. He missed some of them; his favourite jeans, the cream sweater Sam had bought him one Christmas, silly things considering that he had no right to expect them to save anything of his.
He made fresh coffee and perched himself on the couch once more, pulling forward a small box marked fragile. He skimmed down the length of the tape with care, and opened it curiously. The only thing he remembered being particularly fragile in his collection had been some Egyptian pottery and a glass vase Nick had brought back from an Etruscan dig, and they had already been put away safely. Layers and layers of soft packing lay on top of a selection of carefully wrapped small objects. Daniel plucked the first one from its cocoon and uncovered the artefact. Frowning, he turned it over in his hand. A netsuke; and a very fine one at that. The ivory, yellowed with age, emphasised the quality of the workmanship. He set it down on the table and tried to remember where he had acquired the piece. He thought he recognised the image, Hotei, one of the seven gods of luck in Japanese mythology. A happy looking fellow with his huge bare belly hanging over his loin-cloth. It was the only one he did recognise. He moved to the next object uncovering another netsuke, and then another, until he had a collection of twelve standing on the table. Each one was exquisitely carved and each represented a Japanese deity or mythological creature. Try as he might, Daniel could not recall ever having collected them. His studies into Eastern and Far Eastern myths and legends had been but a passing glance; his passion had been for Egypt and European studies. He turned the box over and studied the printing on the side. He didn't recognise the writing, but that didn't mean anything. Although half the boxes had been packed by Jack, Sam and Teal'c, the others had been by any passing service personnel they could rope in to helping.
Leaving them aligned on the table he headed to bed. Perhaps in the morning his obstinate memory would come up with the answers.
He slept badly, waking time after time to the feeling that he was not alone. Once, he even went so far as to turn on the bedside lamp; his room was, of course, empty. By the time his alarm announced a new working day Daniel had given up on sleep. Even now, with daylight beginning to lighten his room, he had the odd sensation that something was with him, that there had been a vague whisper of a voice that died as the first rays of sun hit his windows. As he got ready for the day he considered what it could mean. Was his memory trying to reassert itself perhaps? Was this something that he needed to know; was it relevant to a mission as had been his recall of Bra'tac's plight? Or perhaps the apartment was haunted he mused, smiling ruefully at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He had put the coffee on before he hit the bathroom and now downed a mugfull before rushing out the door, running late. On the coffee table the netsukes that he had left standing upright the night before lay scattered across the table-top. Two had landed on the floor – in his hurry he didn't notice.
Traffic was surprisingly bad for that hour of the morning and he was aware of the time dragging by with each traffic report on his radio.
As he stepped out of the elevator he was greeted by Jack's dry, "You're late. Hammond called a briefing for 0800."
Daniel checked his watch, cursed and made a run for the locker room. He didn't think the general would appreciate him turning up in his civvies.
For all his rushing he was still too late. As he hurled himself up the steps he almost collided with the colonel about to make his way back down.
"You're too late," O'Neill stated, slapping a folder against Daniel's chest. "Read, learn and digest… or not. We're through the gate in," he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes."
"But!" Daniel watched Jack's retreating form with a stunned expression. It was Sam's touch on his arm that brought him back.
"You okay, Daniel? It's unlike you to miss a briefing."
He turned to catch the slight frown on her face. He'd seen that expression too many times since his return, and always aimed at him. It was about time he pulled himself together.
"Traffic up here was hell this morning. Accident." He gave her his best 'I'm fine' smile.
"Let's get our kit, I'll fill you in on the way." She was already heading away from him, and he hurried to catch up.
"SG7 checked this planet out over two months ago, there was no obvious signs of Goa'uld occupation; everything seemed very quiet. Then, last night, the gate activated itself; nothing was received that we know of. No emissions, no signals, and nothing hit the iris. We checked all the systems and this is the origin of the dialling signal."
As he walked along beside her, Daniel had begun to flick through the folder. Surveillance photo's showed a garden similar to the style of a Japanese temple or palace. A wood structure dominated the scene. Nothing in any of the pictures showed any Goa'uld influence.
Entering the locker room, they began to kit up.
"Did the team encounter the natives?" Daniel inquired.
"No. They searched the whole of the grounds, no sign of life at all but everywhere was spotless." Sam shrugged into her jacket and bent to pick up her weapon. Daniel was still rooted to the spot, eyes speed-reading the dossier. "Daniel!"
He looked up.
"Your kit. The colonel's going to be waiting."
"Right. Coming." Tossing the folder to one side, he finished getting ready and followed Sam's eager steps.
