Chapter 3-A Time To Build Up

"Yeah, man. This is good," Cam drawled into his mask as he piloted the F-302 through a series of maneuvers. He could almost hear the general smiling behind him in the second seat. "Still a rush."

The incentive flight had come as a complete surprise. When General Landry had casually asked if he would be willing to pilot an F-302 so an old pilot could catch up on his flying hours, Cam had jumped at the chance. He hadn't even been annoyed when the pilot in question was late for the pre-flight briefing. And then to find out that his second seat would be General O'Neill…Cam had been walking on cloud nine all the way through the pre-flight briefing, his checklists, and the boring climb to military air space.

"Yeah," the general replied distractedly.

"I don't know why I didn't get back on the horse sooner, except I really didn't think you could take one of these things out for a joy ride," Cam replied nervously. The general had been quiet most of the flight, and Cam had been nervous and excited enough to chatter inanely almost the whole time. Crap, he was boring the hell out of the general.

The general's chuckle surprised him, "Now, see, that's one of the great things about being a general. You pretty much get to do whatever you want."

Cam grinned, "I suppose after you've saved the world seven or eight times…"

"Yeah, but who's counting?" the general replied casually, apparently in a better mood than earlier.

"Teal'c," Cam replied almost sourly. "Teal'c's counting."

"Really?" the general replied, sounding surprised, though Cam couldn't really tell based on voice alone.

"Yeah. Actually, it was the first thing he mentioned when I talked to him," Cam replied trying to get rid of his annoyance at the Jaffa's attitude and dismissal.

The general left him alone for a few moments, before he interrupted his thoughts. "So, Mitchell, I hear you haven't picked out your team, yet."

Shame and disappointment flushed through Cam. Yeah, he wasn't prepared to pick his team, because he was supposed to join a team, not build a new one. "I'm hoping I won't have to, Sir." Then he suddenly realized that it wasn't just any general he was speaking to, it was General O'Neill, former leader of SG-1 and the SGC and current head of Homeworld Security. Great, Cam, just make yourself look like an ass in front of your boss's boss.

"Why, did General Landry say something about it, Sir?" he asked in a worried tone. The last time they had talked, he got the impression that General Landry was a bit annoyed at him.

"He did," the general replied.

Cam's worry meter pegged. Shit, I'm going to be fired. He took a deep breath, "Are you going to tell me what he said, Sir?" Cam hated the nervous tone that was so obvious in his voice.

"He said you're going to be fine, Mitchell," the general replied with a chuckle.

Relief flooded through his system. He wasn't fired from the best job in the Air Force…hell, on the planet. "Thank you, Sir."

Cam was distracted as Range Control lit up his targets and he began his simulated attack run. He allowed the aircraft to dominate his attention and he found great satisfaction as each target was reported as a kill. Once the small fighter was again high in the atmosphere, his mind started to plague him again about the problem with his team.

"Sir?" Cam asked tentatively.

"Yeah, Mitchell," the general replied easily.

Cam didn't know quite how to phrase his questions. He was confused and conflicted about how best to populate his new team. How was he supposed to ask for help from one of his biggest heroes? He took a deep breath and just pushed forward, "How did you pick your team? I mean the original SG-1, Sir. How did you know that they had to be on the team? That they were the right ones?"

"Good question, Colonel," the general replied pensively. "Honestly, I didn't pick them… They picked me."

"Sir?" Cam asked confused. He knew the general history of SG-1 and how Colonel O'Neill had fought tooth and nail to have Dr Jackson and Teal'c on his team. How could he have NOT picked them?

The general chuckled again, "Mitchell, have you ever wondered why I chose you for SG-1?"

Cam's mind was effectively diverted. In fact, he had wondered, quite often, why he had been chosen. He didn't think that saving the lives of SG-1 was enough to warrant a position on the team, because others had accomplished that same feat, multiple times, on other occasions. Hell, other than that little fact, he had nothing to recommend him to the SGC, let alone to SG-1. He was a good pilot. He had even been told that he was a good leader, but he had no field experience. He had never served at the SGC on a field team. He wasn't a brilliant strategist, scientist, or anything. Cam made a pretty picture, but he knew his limitations. He was, at best, a diamond in the rough kind of USAF officer.

When General O'Neill had made the offer, Cam had been both stunned and honored. It was just the incentive he needed to push through re-hab and back to full health. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime and he had grabbed it with both hands. And frequently, while he had worked to be worthy of the position he had been offered, he had wondered about the general's reasoning.

"Yes, Sir," Cam replied, swallowing nervously. He was almost dreading the general's answer.

"I chose you because you had already been chosen," the general replied cryptically.

Okay, that didn't make any sense. "Sir?"

"Mitchell, it took me a long time to understand how SG-1 works. It's not a job. It's not a position to be filled by the most qualified applicant. It's more like a calling or a vocation. You don't get chosen for SG-1. SG-1 chooses you," the general replied, his voice strangely wistful.

"When I first visited you in the hospital, I just knew that you would lead SG-1. You weren't even fully awake yet." The general chuckled, "You were so high on pain meds, I doubt you even knew your own name. But… I KNEW you would get here. I don't know how to explain it better than that."

Cam could hear the general shifting in his seat. "I wasn't really thinking much when I first when through to Abydos all those years ago, but Daniel struck a chord with me. He was the least qualified of all the scientists to go on that first mission, and I was sure he was lying out his ass about being able to get us home… which as it turned out, he was… But, somehow, I just knew that he had to come…against my better judgment, I let him come with us."

"Carter was a whole other story," the general continued as Cam's attention was purely focused on the seat behind him. "Carter was the most qualified. Hell, she was almost too qualified. And I was drawn to her in a way that I can't even describe. But this time I fought that feeling. I fought against her being assigned to my team. And in the end, Hammond just said that it was non-negotiable." Cam drew in a breath in surprise, that wasn't in the reports. Of course, he knew Sam better than most other people would. He had been in awe of her intellect and raw leadership qualities since their first year at the Academy. He just couldn't see how anyone wouldn't want her on their team, let alone O'Neill. It shifted Cam's entire world on its side.

"I had that same feeling again with Teal'c," the general stated with fondness. Cam smiled, this part was SGC history. "I knew from the moment I saw him, even though he was leading the enemy troops, that he could be trusted. I did what I could to convince him, Hammond, hell, damn near everyone on Earth, and in the end, my gut was right once again."

Cam heard the general sigh regretfully, "and then there was Jonas." The general's voice was laced with old pain. Cam had completely forgotten about the Langaran and his role as a member of SG-1. "I couldn't stand to even look at Jonas, at first. I refused to acknowledge that he was even alive those first few weeks. I tried other members for SG-1, but each time, I knew before we even went through the gate that they would fail. They weren't SG-1. They didn't feel right. And as much as I didn't want Jonas, he did. If Hammond hadn't forced my hand, I might have never given in to that feeling. That was when I realized that SG-1 was more than a just a team… when I finally realized that I was never in charge of filling positions on SG-1. My job was to follow orders and those orders didn't come from the Air Force or even the President."

The general cleared his throat, "I didn't choose you, Mitchell, but you were chosen. You are the right man for the job. And I have a feeling that you know that, somewhere, deep down. Your team doesn't have to be found. They will eventually come to you. And you will know… you just have to have a bit of faith."

Cam considered his next words carefully. It all made a perverse bit of sense. But… "And if my gut is telling me that I need the old SG-1, Sir?"

Once more the general chuckled, "Then my words stand, they will come to you. Maybe not willingly at first, but they will come. Of that I am confident."

Cam thought carefully how best to word this next question. "Sir, why did they leave in the first place?"

Cam heard a sharp intake of breath before a deep sigh, "Because something happened, and each of us were so torn up with guilt, fear, pain, and shame that we forgot where we were needed the most. We lost our way for bit… our faith, if you will."

Cam sighed, "and how do I fix that?" he whispered to himself.

The general's chuckle caught him off guard, he had forgotten how sensitive the microphones were in these helmets, "You go with the flow and help when you can. I'm already doing what I can from my end… But most importantly, you keep the faith."

Cam smiled. He felt as if a great burden was lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps there was more to that feeling of destiny from his first day. Perhaps he wasn't doing such a poor job as the leader of a one man team. If General O'Neill had faith in him, perhaps he could live up to his expectations after all. "I think I understand, Sir. But if you don't mind, you never struck me as the religious type."

The general's laughter was almost infectious and Cam couldn't help but grin in response. "We kill false gods, Mitchell. What isn't religious about that?" the general quipped back.

"All too true, Sir." He absorbed the good humor and let the feeling of peace and rightness enter his mind. Flying really was a zen art. Cam grinned into his mask, "You mind if I kick in the afterburners, Sir?"

"Oh, please," was the general's enthusiastic reply.

Cam threw a casual "Thank you, Sir," over his shoulder as he pushed the small aircraft to full throttle.

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By the time Jack returned to DC, Daniel finally felt at peace. Before Jack had shown up, Daniel had missed his friend and had found solace only in his work, burying himself in his translations. But since Jack's visit, he found himself wanting more out of his life. He was finally able to forgive himself. In a way, he wasn't even sure why he had held on to his pain for so long. Jack had been right. It wasn't Daniel's fault that Jack had been hurt, but in the long run, it wasn't the physical pain that had caused his friend the most pain. Daniel had shut out the world, and in doing so, he had also shut out his friends.

Yet, Jack had even forgiven him that. So, each day after that first visit, he would send Jack a quick email with some little bit of nonsense in it, just to maintain contact. Jack always replied, even if it is a quick, 'no kidding'. It wasn't perfect. In fact, much of their conversations were initially, almost painfully, empty of all meaningful topics. But they both pushed through that initial awkwardness. The weather was fully discussed and shared, and in time, they were able to expand on that connection.

Now, Daniel was afraid of losing that hard won contact. Before the Incident, they had an easy friendship built on a foundation of understanding and shared experiences. Even when they were at odds, there was the feeling that nothing could shake their friendship. The Incident had changed that. Daniel had shut out Jack and all his friends, and until Jack had reached out, Daniel had tried to ignore how much he had come to depend on Jack's friendship. And how much Jack had depended on him in return. He felt worse for shaking the foundations of their friendship so badly. Only Jack's belief that those same foundations were still solid kept him from giving up altogether.

As the weeks passed, Daniel found the phone calls less stilted and the emails more meaningful. Perhaps the most surprising part was that Jack actually talked. Something his friend blamed on the mandatory counseling sessions he had been attending. And as they rebuilt their friendship, Daniel's faith in their friendship also grew.

Daniel was surprised when Jack admitted that he was dreading the Daedalus' departure. The fact that his friend felt comfortable enough with him to make that admission was almost as profound as Daniel's response to it. His healing friendship with Jack had dampened his enthusiasm for exploring the Lost City of Atlantis. Daniel was certain that he could bury himself in Atlantis' history and that it would no doubt be worth every bit of hardship. But…was he willing to sacrifice his newly renewed friendship with Jack? Would their fragile friendship survive the distance across galaxies? A year ago, Daniel would have said 'yes', but now…he wasn't so sure.

So when General Landry asked him to go to Washington, DC to brief the Senate Appropriations Committee on the state of the galaxy, he gladly accepted. Daniel really wanted to see his friend again, to affirm that Jack really was doing well. He hoped to heal their rift even more, even if he had to deal with politicians to do it.

As Daniel made his flight plans, he realized that he could easily lose all the careful hard fought ground in their friendship if he went to Atlantis. Daniel would no longer be able to call or email his friend on whim, just to see how the day went. But he had wanted to travel to Atlantis for so long that he was seriously conflicted. It was the find of a lifetime. It was HIS find. It was the crown jewel in his top secret career. And while Jack had blocked his transfers in the past, his friend now seemed almost unwilling to deny him this time. Perhaps it was another symptom of their fragile friendship?

Daniel needed advice. He needed all his friends back, not just Jack. But Jack wasn't the only one who could reach out and Daniel wasn't usually one to stand back and let others make first contact. That Jack was the one to remind him of this, was just one more mark of how far he had let his friendships slip due to inattention.

Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, Sam failed to return his calls. However, Teal'c took Daniel's request for a visit and immediately returned to the SGC to help him. The speed with which he came to Earth made Daniel wonder how long the Jaffa had been waiting for his call. He felt guilty about how he had neglected his friends, but he readily met Teal'c in the Gateroom. It was time to make amends. Jack's faith in their friendship bolstered his courage as he watched his Jaffa friend walk down the ramp.

"Daniel Jackson," Teal'c greeted regally, with an un-Jaffalike smile.

"Teal'c, welcome back," Daniel replied warmly. "Come on. We can talk in my office."

"Very well," Teal'c bowed respectfully to General Landry in the control room before following Daniel to his office.

Once in the privacy of his office, Daniel closed the door and turned to his old friend. Taking a deep breath, he started, "Teal'c, I want you to know that I consider you one of my dearest friends. And because of that, I am ashamed of my behavior these last few months. I was so locked into my own pain that I shut you and everyone else out. For that, I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

For a moment, Daniel would have sworn that Teal'c looked shocked. But Teal'c's expression quickly changed to a huge grin, "There is nothing to forgive, Daniel Jackson. But if it is my forgiveness you seek, then you have it. I only hope that you will accept my apology as well, for my sins are the same."

Daniel smiled and drew the big man into a hug, "You have it, my friend."

As the two men drew apart, Daniel couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't apologized sooner… and then he remembered Jack and his current problem.

"Teal'c," Daniel started cautiously, "I saw Jack the other day." He paused as he noticed Teal'c's posture change and stiffen. "He just stopped by…we talked, sort of…" Daniel tried to meet Teal'c's eyes and failed. "We're friends again."

Teal'c seemed to absorb the news stoically, but Daniel could see his jaw tightly clenched.

Daniel nodded to himself, "See, the thing is, with me leaving for Atlantis in a few weeks, I could lose that…I don't think I can lose our friendship again. I…I don't know if I should stay or go. I want to go… I should go. They need me. But… what about Jack?"

Teal'c seemed to swallow his reservations and think the problem through. "Have you talked to O'Neill about this?"

"Yes," Daniel replied. He had couched the question very carefully, but he had asked. Jack had easily deflected the question and told Daniel to do what was best for himself. "He said that he will support whatever decision I make."

Teal'c considered that new piece of information carefully. After a long silence, he finally asked, "What does your honor demand, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel felt that the question wasn't for himself so much as it was for Teal'c. Daniel suddenly realized how horribly painful Teal'c's position was. He turned a critical eye to his friend and found that Teal'c had lost weight. Dark circles were visible around his eyes. Stress lines, previously unknown on his Jaffa friend, were apparent on his face. For the first time, Daniel could see the years weigh down on his friend.

Is this what has become of us? Hollow shells of our former selves? Empty men with no room for life, just duty and honor? I used to stand for so much more than digging up the past. Teal'c used to be such a vibrant and honorable warrior. Why didn't I see this before?

The realization, though slow to take root, felt right. Jack's forgiveness had opened his eyes and his heart once again. I was blind but now I see… Jack, I have so much to thank you for, that I don't even know where to begin.

Daniel cleared his throat and stated with as much dignity as he could muster, "Honor demands that you come with me to DC to see Jack."

Teal'c froze. His face a mask of pain and longing. He contemplated Daniel's words for a long time, before he nodded, "Then we will go to Washington, DC."

Daniel smiled and nodded in return, "Good. But first, I say we eat. Our flight doesn't leave until tomorrow." Not to mention that I have to book a second seat, Daniel thought quietly to himself as he led his friend to the chow hall for a snack.

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TBC