Chapter 9

Some time later, Jack had revived, but the unfortunate duo's tempers were beginning to wear thin. It didn't help that the gentle glow from the alien box had gone out, leaving them trapped in the dark. As of yet, they had failed to find a way out, and Daniel could only hope that the creature he'd conversed with would decide to help them, rather than leave them here to starve...

Suddenly, Daniel simply couldn't stand the silence any longer. He'd been without speech too long to neglect it now. "Jack?"

An annoyed response snapped back from the darkness, characteristically Jack. "What?"

In the dark, Daniel winced at the annoyed response, but forced himself to continue. "I was just going to apologize." He deliberately made himself sound slightly offended, knowing that this would only irritate the colonel further. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

A long silence ensued, but to his surprise, Jack eventually unbent enough to respond, "You're forgiven."

Daniel was just trying to come up with a sarcastic reply, when Jack floored him by adding, "And…hey. For what it's worth, I'll stop picking on you."

For once, Daniel couldn't think of a safe answer to that, so he cleared his throat slightly, and settled for a quiet, "Thanks."

Another awkward silence ensued, and this time it was Jack that broke it. "Hey, Daniel?"

The archeologist was careful to keep his tone neutral as he responded, "Yes, Jack?"

"You okay? You know…after everything that's happened…"

Daniel sighed audibly, but responded, "Yeah...but I'll be a lot better when we get out of here."

As though in answer to his rueful comment, a female voice filled the air, "Next time, children, save us all a lot of trouble and read the damned warning."

A sudden, bright light blinded Daniel, and he felt the world shift around him for the second time that day.

An indefinite period of time passed for Daniel before he became self-aware again. He felt warm…Safe. A comforting strength was wrapped around him, confining him, but he had no reason to fear this presence. He had no name for what this feeling was. He had no words for anything, in fact, and simply reveled in the feeling of calm as he tried to remember what he had forgotten. There was something important, he knew, but it was just out of reach.

Without warning, he felt the comforting warmth drawn away from him, to be replaced by a frightening sense of loneliness and cold. Without thought, he screamed at the top of his lungs, beginning to get angry that he had been forced out of his comfortable home.

"Shhhhhh….Danny. Mother's here. It's okay." He calmed. That's what he had forgotten. This was his Mother. He had a word for something now, and it made sense. It was good.

Time sped by, faster and faster, bringing with it more knowledge. He began to enjoy the excitement of the smallest revelation, thrilling at the sheer joy of learning. Daddy. Teddy. Bottle. And then more abstract concepts: Want. Mine. Gone.

He found himself once again in the familiar New York Museum of Art, but there was no trepidation. He was fascinated by the artifacts surrounding him, reading the plaques and absorbing the new information like a sponge. He had learned something new. They actually took the guts out of people before mummifying them, and he just couldn't wait to share this with his parents! Wouldn't they be just so shocked? His parents were working on a new exhibit, so he ran to where he knew they were working, ignoring the warning of the woman who was supposed to be watching him, and arrived just in time to see the chain snap, and a huge stone slab fall from the ceiling and crush his parents.

He learned the true meaning of a new word that day: Grief.

He would be reacquainted with this concept from time to time, but life went on. High school arrived, and his vocabulary grew exponentially as he became intensely interested in languages. There was so much to learn, and as long as he buried himself in the knowledge, he could not be hurt again.

He met his first crush in French class. She was the top of the class, even better than he was at making the odd sounds required by the language, though of course he had the better vocabulary. He had adored her from the moment he saw her, and she had felt much the same about him. When they graduated high school, they went their separate ways, but he would never forget her. Because of her, he knew there was more to life than knowledge…There was love.

He grew older and wiser, but still there never seemed to be enough time. Languages seeped into his mind, filling it to bursting, and he thought sometimes that his head really would explode. It never did. He received two Ph.D.'s and a Master's degree, and he knew now what it felt to be proud.

He studied ancient Egypt, and made shocking new discoveries… Not only about Egypt, but about words he had only thought he knew the meaning of. Shame. Disgrace. Ostracism. Ridicule. He was a genius ahead of his time, and he had begun to believe the nay-sayers when he found himself on the street without a job or a credible reputation to get a new one.

Then came the Stargate program: Hope.

His year on Abydos was the happiest he had been since his parents had died. It was one of the rare times in his life that he knew love.

When he lost that, it had seemed hopeless to him, but back with SG-1, he had found something new that was all too unexpected. Friendship. Family.

It should be over now, shouldn't it? Part of his mind now knew that he was not really going on each mission, continuing to grow and learn with each trip through the Stargate, but the images paraded on unabated.

The last few days passed before his eyes, and he knew the word for that as well. Frustration and anger on his own part. Determination from his team.

As Jack chased him into the dangerous light, a tear came to his eyes. Loyalty.

Finally, the last memory filed past his eyes, and he realized what he had forgotten: Danger. Jack was in danger. A stabbing fear pierced him, as he realized it was his own foolishness that had put his friend in this predicament.

Gradually, he came back to himself, and became aware that he was back in the present. Somehow he knew that he was fully whole, and with a new shock, he realized that he had fallen to the floor and was curled in the fetal position. He shook with cold, and he could feel a bruise on his hip and elbow where his bones had barked against the stone floor, but he could only think of one thing... What had happened to his friend?

"Daniel?" He heard his name called, and forced his eyes to open, wincing as lingering sparks of white danced before his eyes. He tried to focus on the blur of shapes moving around him, but he couldn't make sense of them just yet.

"Jack …?" He was met with a relieved laugh, and he tried to sit up, still somewhat woozy, only to find hands pulling him up, helping him to sit and pressing a canteen to his lips.

"I'm fine," the colonel replied with amusement, and without warning his glasses were placed back on his nose. Jack's face came into focus, framed by sunlight and vegetation, and Daniel realized they were back in camp. "C'mon, say something, Danny-boy."

Still woozy and in shock, Daniel stared at Jack, blinking to clear the last of the spots from his vision. "Jack?" he finally managed, his expression twisting to one of wry annoyance.

Jack's amusement melted away as his old worry came creeping back in. "What is it, Danny? Come on, talk to me."

"...Stop calling me that."

As laughter erupted around them, the two friends shared a more sedate smile, and as they made eye contact, they each knew what the other was thinking without having to say a word.

They were alive. Whole. Once again, SG-1 had pulled through, and lived to fight another day.