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"Two stars, poised on the peak of
midnight Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;
There will be stars over the place forever, There will be stars
forever, while we sleep."
-Sara Teasdale
"Sir?"
Jack turned at the sound of Carter's voice.
She was hurrying down the hall towards him as if she was afraid
he'd be disappearing into the elevators and she'd never see him
again. "Carter?" He made a point of looking at his
watch.
"It's Daniel," she said, looking
up at him. He waited when she said nothing more than that one
cryptic comment, although his mind raced at thoughts of exactly
what that comment might mean.
"I'm worried about him, sir. Sha're..."
Carter stared at the floor. "Don't you think Daniel is a
little too...?" She looked up, gesturing in the air.
"I don't think he's handling it very well, sir," she
finished, her chin thrust up as if daring him to disagree.
"There's not a right way to grieve,
Carter," Jack said, aware that his voice sounded gruff,
memories of people telling *him* how to grieve his son's death
filling his head. But Carter was looking as if he'd just kicked
a puppy. "Look, SG1 is a team. We're going to get him
through this," he said playing team commander to the hilt.
He swiped his card and the elevator doors opened. He stepped in,
relieved that Carter didn't follow. He looked at his watch
again. Past midnight and he'd planned on going to Daniel's
apartment. Maybe there wasn't a right way to grieve, but it sure
as hell helped when a friend was there to see you through.
He had plenty of time to reflect on the
past month as he drove to Daniel's apartment--from the moment
he'd heard the sound of Teal'c's staff weapon to the moment of
seeing Daniel lying on the floor of the tent, turned toward his
dead wife, to a memory of his friend wrapped in his Abydonian
robes speaking in a soft clear voice, to Daniel's decision to
work himself into a stupor so he no longer needed to think about
lost dreams or the end of hope. Jack grimaced as a headache
blossomed sending tendrils of pain down his neck and into his
shoulders.
He had nothing to offer Daniel, nothing but his friendship. The
memory of his promise to Daniel three years ago echoed in his
mind as it had ever since Sha're's death. He'd broken his
promise to Sara--to protect her and their son, the marriage vows
that had said he'd be with his wife in sorrow and in joy. It
didn't matter that Sara had filed for the divorce. It had been
his failure to communicate with her, his decision to shut
himself off from her, that had been the catalyst.
He'd broken his promise to Charlie--that
promise he'd made when he'd held the eight pounds, three ounces of the miracle that was
his son, the promise to keep him safe, to never let him come to
harm. Oh yeah, Jack O'Neill had screwed that one up big time.
Now, he'd broken his promise to Daniel--that they would get Sha're
back. And now Jack was afraid; afraid that he was going to lose
yet another member of his family. He didn't care about how
valuable Daniel Jackson was to the SGC. What mattered to Jack
was how valuable Daniel was to him. Who would have every thought
such an unlikely friendship would have ever existed?
Jack pulled into the parking garage at
Daniel's apartment building waving to the guard on duty. He
parked his truck next to Daniel's car, taking a moment to bow
his head against his steering wheel. Daniel had left the SGC
earlier that evening but only after General Hammond, backed by
Doc Fraiser, had made it an order. And even Jack had to admit,
Daniel wasn't looking himself the past weeks. Sure, Daniel went
on the missions scheduled for SG1, did his job, and searched for
a whisper of a dream--a planet called Kheb and his last
connection to his dead wife. He said he was working through
things, he was all right, he was fine, and Jack didn't believe a
word of it.
Riding the elevator up to Daniel's
apartment, Jack's hand curled around the key Daniel had given
him last year. He stood in front of his friend's apartment door
all too soon. He hesitated, unsure of whether to knock or not.
If Daniel was sleeping, Jack certainly didn't want to wake him,
remembering the insomnia after Charlie died, when it seemed a
good night's sleep would never exist again. He turned the key
and entered the apartment, not surprised to find Daniel awake.
There was however, no response to his entrance, Daniel standing
in front of his piano, unmoving, but every line of his body
screaming exhaustion and a grief too much to bear alone.
"Daniel?" Jack walked to his
friend's side, unwilling to let Daniel push him away. Daniel's
fingers rested on the piano keys and Jack noticed the sheet
music placed on the stand.
"Sha're," there was the merest
catch in Daniel's voice as he said his dead wife's name and he
took a deep breath before speaking again. "Sha're loved
music. She would have been fascinated by a piano. They didn't
have pianos on Abydos." The words were so earnest, Daniel
sounding so lost.
Jack could have said something flippant
about pianos not growing on trees, but the raw pain, the
continuing stunned quality of Daniel's voice, brought back the
memory of those awful first days after Charlie's death. He
settled for a 'yeah' and placing his hand on the bowed neck.
"She would have been fascinated by
everything." Daniel stepped away from Jack's touch and
wandered to his over-flowing bookshelves. He stood staring at
them, running his fingers over them. "She loved my books.
The books I took on our mission. I taught her English with them,
and the alphabet, and how to read. We used to sit..." he
stumbled over the words, "sit by the fire at night and I
would read to her. Once she learned how to read, we'd take
turns."
Jack smiled at the image in his head,
memories of stretching out on Charlie's bed, his son curled up
next to him, reading the books Charlie loved so much. When
Charlie learned to read, he'd missed those quiet times they'd
shared, but when his son had been sick Jack was still allowed to
read to him. Precious memories, different than Daniel's, but
tinged with the same bittersweetness.
Daniel turned back to face Jack and pushed
up his glasses before looking at him. "I'm okay, Jack. It's
just..." another one of those deep breaths, "...taking
some time, you know. I realize my work hasn't been up to its
usual standards. I know I took too long with that translation on
P3R-112. It won't happen again."
Recognizing the chatter for what it was,
Jack held up a hand. He knew the signs. When things veered
towards Daniel's feelings, Daniel's pain, the younger man had a
habit of changing the subject away from himself, and much as
Jack wanted to push Daniel to speak of his grief, he knew he
must tread softly. "I'm sorry Sha're died, Daniel. Sorry we
couldn't save her."
Hel turned shocked blue eyes on Jack,
surprised maybe that his dead wife's name was even mentioned.
"There was nothing you could have done," Daniel
finally said after a long moment of silence.
"Nothing."
"Maybe, but I'm still sorry she
died." Jack repeated his apology. "Sha're..." He
was interrupted by Daniel holding up his hand.
"You hungry, Jack?" Daniel moved
towards his kitchen area. "I can make some coffee. I
probably have some stuff for sandwiches or I can throw a frozen pizza in the oven."
"Coffee sounds good." Jack
followed his friend. He might like beer better but he knew he'd
need all of his faculties clear dealing with Daniel. He looked
at his watch again, wondering how long Daniel had gone without
sleep. He was sure insomnia was becoming a habit with Daniel. He
thought back to the missions since Sha're's death, all those
nights when Daniel stayed up for an extra watch with whoever had
drawn second or third shift. The deepest part of night always brought back loss, Jack
knew.
He leaned against Daniel's refrigerator,
watching his friend pull a canister closer and open it, giving a
gentle smile as he heard Daniel's instinctive inhalation as the
aroma of freshly ground coffee hit the air.
"How about if I make us some
sandwiches?" Jack offered when he saw Daniel reach for the
coffee pot with a shaky hand. He wasn't hungry, but Daniel needed to eat. The man's blood sugar was
probably plummeting right about now.
Daniel grunted, which Jack figured was
about the best reply he could hope for. He opened the fridge and
began pulling out cold cuts and some individually wrapped cheese
slices, giving surreptitious sniffs to the food. With their
schedules cleaning out the refrigerator after each mission was
par for the course. But everything smelled edible. Jack placed
the food on the table along with a jar of mustard and reached
for the bread on Daniel's counter when he realized that the
faucet had been running for a long time, certainly longer than
it took to fill up a coffee pot.
"Daniel?"
"Running water," Daniel said.
"Funny how we take something like running water for granted
isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess we do." Jack
tossed the bread next to the cold cuts on the table. He held his
hands out to his sides, then jammed them into his pockets,
unsure of what to do, what to say.
"Sha..."
Jack heard the choked back sob, saw
Daniel's shoulders begin to shake, and knew only one thing. The
grief held at bay for nearly a month was coming to the surface
and Daniel needed his best friend by his side to see him
through.
"Daniel." Jack touched the other
man's shoulder, not surprised when it was shrugged off. It
didn't matter; Daniel wasn't going to go through this alone.
He'd made the mistake in his own life. He wasn't going to watch
Daniel go down the same self destructive path of pushing those
who could help him away.
The coffee pot slipped from Daniel's hands,
shattering in the sink.
"Oh God," the words could barely
be heard over the running water, spoken in a whisper, almost a
prayer. "Oh God."
Jack reached out and shut off the water
when Daniel appeared incapable of thought, Daniel gripping the
edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles were white.
"Let it go, Daniel," Jack said.
His friend's face was pale and his breath came in little gasps
as he tried to hold in the grief that was threatening to make
him lose control.
"I loved her. I *loved* her. I *loved*
her." Daniel looked at Jack, confusion, anger, loss, so
many emotions playing across his face. "Why?" his
voice rose. "Why, Jack? Why her? Why not me?" Daniel
was leaning into Jack's space and Jack was prepared for
anything, even the chance that Daniel might strike out in anger.
But the anger was short-lived and Daniel's voice dropped to a
whisper. "Why?" He sounded like a lost child and the
tears Daniel had managed to hold at bay since Sha're's death
began to fall. Jack reached out a steadying hand as Daniel
pushed away from the sink, grunting with effort as he guided
them both to the floor when Daniel's legs gave way. He placed
his arm over Daniel's shoulders, a reminder to his grieving
friend that someone would be with him as he mourned.
His shirt was damp, his ass was numb, and
his back ached, but Jack didn't move from his position on
Daniel's kitchen floor. Jack shifted slightly, his left arm was
asleep and the pins and needles tingling feeling was starting to
become a major irritant.
"Huh?" Daniel started, lifting
his head from Jack's shoulder and blinking in the harsh
fluorescent light. "Jack?"
"The one and only." Jack shook
his arm, curling his hand into a fist and then releasing it to
stretch his fingers. He looked at Daniel who was rubbing his
face with his hands and nearly knocking off his glasses in the
process.
"Um, sorry," Daniel muttered,
staring at the floor. "You must think I'm..."
"I think you're a widower, Daniel; a
man who lost his wife and his dreams." Jack motioned for
Daniel to stand and then reached up to the sink to pull himself
up. He couldn't help the groan that accompanied the movement as
his knees protested.
Daniel was looking at the shattered remains
of his coffee pot and when he reached in the sink to start
pulling out the pieces, Jack grabbed his wrist. "I'll get
it. You're still half asleep and I so don't want to take you to
the infirmary at this hour to get a zillion stitches in your
hand."
It was a testament to how tired Daniel
really was, because there was no argument, no protest, just a
simple nod before he turned and walked out of the kitchen. Jack
busied himself, cleaning up the broken glass, throwing the cold
cuts and cheese into the trash can. When morning came, he was
taking Daniel out somewhere for the biggest breakfast he could
find and he was going to make sure his friend ate every bite.
Bracing his arms against the counter, Jack
hung his head and closed his eyes for a moment. He glanced at
the clock on Daniel's microwave, Three thirty three. Hoping
Daniel had managed to find his way to bed, Jack gave the counter
a swipe with a damp sponge and then left the room, figuring he
could bunk down on Daniel's sofa or love seat for a few hours
sleep.
Daniel was lying on his side on the sofa,
his legs pulled up slightly and half-falling off the cushions.
His glasses had been tossed on the coffee table and he was
blinking slowly.
"Here." Jack pulled a patterned
throw off the back of the sofa and tossed it over Daniel's legs.
When Daniel made no move to adjust it, he spoke softly,
"C'mon. Cover up. You're shivering." At Jack's words,
Daniel obeyed, pulling the cover up to his chin and closing his
eyes. Knowing his friend wouldn't appreciate the gesture at the
moment, Jack made a mental note to check Daniel's temperature
once he fell back asleep. Jack suspected Daniel was just a
little bit shocky.
"Thank you," Daniel said as Jack
settled on the love seat. Jack saw him make a meager effort to
push his body up but Daniel's muscles had other ideas. "You
said her name. No one wants to talk about her or say
her..." there was a long pause and Jack saw Daniel wipe at
his eyes before continuing, "...name. Like if no one talks
about her, it won't hurt."
"And it always does," Jack
finished for him. There were times he still ran into an
acquaintance who knew of his son's death, his subsequent
divorce, and they skirted the issue by never mentioning Charile
as if by not saying his name Jack wouldn't miss him anymore. He
regretted that he'd done the same to Daniel, thinking the
younger man would come to them on his own to speak of his grief.
"Yes," Daniel said and then was
silent. Jack thought that Daniel might have fallen asleep again.
Surely his friend had to be exhausted from the onslaught of
emotion. Leaning forward, Jack glanced at him, getting up to
grab a box of tissues and place them within reach when he saw
the tears trickling down Daniel's cheeks. He patted Daniel's
shoulder and then walked back to the kitchen. Opening the
refrigerator, he grabbed a bottle of water and rummaged in one
of the cabinets for a bottle of aspirin.
He sat on the coffee table, nudging
Daniel's hand with the water bottle. Daniel turned onto his back
and scooted up on the cushions, taking a swig from the bottle
and then rested the cool container against his forehead.
"Here." Jack turned over Daniel's
palm and dumped two aspirin into it. When Daniel regarded the
pills with suspicion, Jack shook his head. "You're beat.
You need to sleep some more, and you have a headache. Go on. They'll help."
Daniel stared at Jack a long moment and
then popped the pills in his mouth and drank almost half the
water. He started to put the bottle on the floor but Jack
stopped him.
"Drink it all. You're probably a
little dehydrated. It'll help the headache too." He didn't expect Daniel to speak, knowing that for the
moment, giving orders and thinking for Daniel was probably the
best course of action.
He finished the water and held out the
bottle for Jack, closing his eyes and sliding back down onto the
cushions. Jack sat for a long while, watching as Daniel slept.
Jack moved over to the love seat when he was sure Daniel was
sound asleep and sighed as he put his feet on the coffee table
and rested his head on the back of the cushions. It didn't take
long until he joined his friend in slumber.
It was the silence that woke him. Over the
past three years, Jack had grown accustomed to the pattern of
Daniel's breathing while he slept. When the archaeologist was
exhausted, as he'd been after his release of grief, and finally
slept, Daniel had a habit of letting out a huff of air after
every two or three breaths. It was the absence of that sound,
combined with years of Special Ops training, that had Jack up
and out of the love seat and fully awake within seconds,
although he regretted the motion as soon as he was standing.
Sleeping with his legs stretched onto Daniel's coffee table and
his head thrown back on the cushions had been not such a great
idea.
The throw was halfway on the floor and Jack
noticed the bottle of water was empty. Early morning light was seeping in the windows and a
light breeze from the direction of the doors to Daniel's balcony
gave him a good idea where his friend was.
"Hey Jack," Daniel said without
turning as Jack joined him on the small balcony. His voice was
hoarse and weary, the aftermath of the release of pain. Jack
studied Daniel's profile, able to see the slight puffiness at
Daniel's eyes, a crease on Daniel's cheek where he'd pressed it
into the sofa cushions. He was holding a small book, Jack
noticed, a slim volume that would fit in a pocket.
Daniel tilted his head back looking at the
dawn sky. "'There will be stars over the place
forever,'" he whispered. He held up the book. "Poetry.
This was my mom's. I had it with me on... Abydos," Daniel
faltered over the name and then continued. "Sha're loved to
hear it." He tapped the book on his palm before turning to
face Jack. "Tell me, Jack."
Jack gave a sad smile, wishing he had a
magic wand to take away the pain, knowing he couldn't. "It
won't always be this raw, Daniel. I can't tell you more than
that. First you work on minute to minute. Then you work up to
hour by hour. One day at a time. Step by step."
"I've been telling myself that. You
know, all that kind of mumbo jumbo." Giving a small laugh,
Daniel turned to look out over the park across the way. "It
doesn't make it easier."
"Nope," Jack agreed, because
Daniel was right of course. They stood in silence watching the
sun rise and Jack wondered what Sha're would have thought of
Earth--if Daniel would have brought her here or if he would have
returned to Abydos and had lots of fat, dark-haired, blue-eyed
babies.
Daniel shivered and Jack slipped back to
the present and reality. "Shower, shave, clean clothes,
then we'll go somewhere for breakfast." He gave the orders
to Daniel, knowing the fragile truce Daniel had with his own
emotions for the moment. It helped when someone else reminded
you of the ordinary things you needed to do. Daniel nodded and
turned to go in the apartment.
"Jack?" He stopped with one foot
on the threshold, squinting at Jack with red-rimmed eyes. He
brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I...you
know."
"I know, Daniel," Jack said and
made a shooing motion. He waited until Daniel was out of sight
and then let out a huge sigh. He looked up at the sky, wishing
it was night where he felt more comfortable.
"I'm sorry, Sha're," he said to the stars, knowing they were
there even if hidden from view. An image of Sha're and Daniel at
the feast when he'd returned to Abydos filled his mind, only to
be replaced with one of Charlie swinging on the swing set Jack
had put together for his fourth birthday, and Jack smiled as he
entered the apartment. Maybe this was his chance to make things
right for all the screw ups that had gone before. He hoped so.
He really hoped so.
FINIS
Feedback is gratefully appreciated; please contact me at babs@jd-divas.com
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