Suggested Rating:  for teen and older readers

Category:  Daniel/Janet, angst

Setting:  post-events of Forever in a Day

Synopsis:  Daniel grieves.

 

Author’s Comments:  Part 13 in The Journey series.  I’d been looking forward to addressing this particular Stargate episode since I began this series.  Yet, once I arrived here, I discovered it wasn’t quite the delight I anticipated.  In other words, this one worked my muse and took it places that didn’t always make sense to me.  I’m still not sure everything this completed piece is supposed to communicate, or if it does so adequately.  What can I say – Daniel and grief are tricky bedfellows sometimes.  But my editor really liked it, so that’s something.  And I adore her and thank her all the time for her proof reading, comments, and suggestions.

 

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places (the Stargate SG-1 stuff) are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions.  This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment only and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended.  Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are creations of the author.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

 

 

 

BROKEN

 

- by Michelle Lunsford (May 2006)

 

 

There was a bustle of activity in the Gate room, typical for the return from a mission gone bad.  Hammond stood just outside the flow of traffic as Jack gave a status report.  Sam assisted the medical team with the injured Abydonians.  Somewhere from the midst of the organized frenzy a voice barked out orders in perfect efficiency.

 

Yet the entire scene was surreal, as if Daniel were watching it from some point outside himself.  He knew he was walking down the ramp, but couldn’t feel it beneath his feet.  And once he reached the bottom, he froze, blinking dazedly around him.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to do next.

 

“Daniel?”

 

The tone was unexpectedly gentle, but familiar, as was the touch at his elbow.  Still, when Daniel turned to look at Jack, all he could do was continue blinking in confusion.

 

“They’ve brought the gurney,” Jack said evenly, nodding toward the clean, sterile object that had, without warning, appeared in front of them.

 

“I want to carry her myself,” Daniel protested.  His voice sounded strained and distant to his own ears.  “I can carry her.”

 

He caught the way Jack’s eyes tightened, ever so slightly, at the corners and braced himself for the fight he instinctively knew was coming.

 

“It’s okay, Colonel,” a new voice suddenly intervened.  It was warm and soothing, pulling Daniel’s attention toward it.  A light touch rested on his upper arm now, drawing his focus even closer, away from the dreamlike tumult around him.  “Daniel, will you allow me to help you?”

 

He gazed down at the petite figure standing beside him.  Her expression was calm and professional and Daniel shook his head, reflexively pulling Sha’re a little closer to his chest.

 

There was an imperceptible squeeze on his arm as she softly urged, “Daniel, please?”

 

Something in her eyes reflected his anguish in that instant and Daniel realized that Janet’s question had been in reference to him, not in assistance of carrying the body to the base morgue.

 

All resolve drained from him then, like water from a toppled glass.  He nodded, numbly, and slowly eased the lifeless form onto the gurney.  With one hand he lovingly traced Sha’re’s cheek in a final caress.  Then his arms fell limply to his side as two men in white began to wheel the cart away.  From his right Daniel heard Janet’s voice again.

 

“Can you make it to the infirmary on your own, Daniel?  I want to take a look at--”

 

He suddenly was very cold.  Janet’s voice began to echo, as if coming from far away, and then faded altogether as Daniel’s legs gave way beneath him and the world turned to darkness.

 

 

 

^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *  

 

 

Slowly, and with great effort, Daniel opened his eyes.  For a moment it didn’t seem to make any difference; then, as he blinked, blurry images started to take shape in the scant amount of light.  It was noticeably quiet but the scent was recognizable enough.  And the pounding in his head was added confirmation.  He was in the infirmary, most likely during the night shift.

 

It occurred to him that his recent nightmare was beginning all over again and panic flourished in the pit of his stomach.  But then other memories came to mind and he forced his breathing to slow.  He remembered Sha’re’s final message and his promise to save the boy.  He remembered watching her fall after Teal’c fired his weapon.  And he remembered watching the life slip away from her as she whispered, one last time, that she loved him.

 

So she really is dead, he thought bitterly.  This isn’t another attempt to communicate through the hand device.  She’s gone.

 

He half expected tears but all he could feel was a hollow emptiness, burning with an intensity that rivaled the fire with which he’d loved her.

 

No!  His mind screamed and his fists reflexively clinched at his sides.  He would not allow himself to think of his love for Sha’re in the past tense.  She might be gone, but I love her – I will always love her!

 

As that assurance resounded in his mind, he began to relax and once again focused on slowing his breathing.  This time he tried to remember the last thing that had happened, and why he was actually here.  He vaguely recalled stepping through the Gate, and the flurry of activity around him.  He’d placed Sha’re on the gurney and watched them roll her away, and then… had he passed out?  Why had he felt so weak?  Was it just the shock of her death, or…?

 

Of course.  The hand device.

 

Cautiously, Daniel reached up and touched his forehead.  There appeared to be some type of salve there, probably to help with the burns.  Lifting his head to look around – and getting a most unpleasant wooziness for the trouble – he saw he was completely alone.  There was the familiar foam pitcher of water on the bedside table, but no tiny white paper cup with pain meds.  Groaning slightly he fell back against the pillow.

 

Where is Janet when I need her?

 

It was an innocent enough thought, but the underlying innuendo hit him with enough force to engulf him in a wash of guilt.

 

“Oh, Sha’re,” he whispered into the darkness.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

 

And as the emptiness clawed at him again, he rolled onto his side and began to weep.

 

 

^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *  

 

 

I don’t even know where to begin.

 

Daniel sighed heavily as he glanced around the tent at the haphazard collection of his and Sha’re’s personal belongings.  It meant a great deal that his father-in-law wanted him to keep any of the items he wished, and take them back to Earth.  But at the moment, even the simple task of going through them seemed overwhelming.

 

For the first time in my life, I think I understand why Nick was so troubled at the prospect of taking me in.  Grief just takes too much out of you, he reflected, dropping into a cross-legged position on the well-worn rug.  And it certainly doesn’t help that I’ve had to go through this day twice.

 

The real funeral had played out very much as it had in the dream through which Sha’re had communicated.  But this time there’d been no mysterious messages, no transporting to different locations and suddenly seeing his wife standing there.  She was truly dead.

 

Oddly enough, that certainty was comforting.  The dream version of Sha’re’s death had been confusing and, in its own way, a slow torment.  Still, he wouldn’t begrudge the experience.  It had allowed him opportunity to make a farewell and a promise – a promise that was one of the few things preventing him from giving in to the current struggle against purposelessness and loss.

 

“My own father was known to say, ‘We are the entirety of our memories.  And in both the good and the bad is opportunity to make us strong.’”

 

Daniel wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, lost in thought, but it bothered him slightly that Kasuf had slipped into the tent without his noticing.  “Sounds like he was a very wise man,” he replied, not bothering to get up.

 

“He was,” Kasuf replied evenly.  Daniel felt the older man draw closer and then sit beside him.  “He was indeed.”

 

It was going to take more effort than Daniel wanted to put forth, but he knew he should at least try to pull himself from this gloom.  “Good Father,” he began, “I appreciate your offer to select from these personal items, to take some back with me, but right now--”

 

“You need not decide at this moment,” Kasuf interrupted, waving his hand as if it were not important.  “I can have them packed up and sent to you at a later time.”

 

“Thank you,” Daniel answered softly and reached out with a finger to absently trace in the sand along the edge of the rug.

 

As they sat in silence a light, hot breeze ruffled the edges of the tent flaps, bringing with it the echo of voices from outside.

 

“My father taught me many things,” Kasuf picked up the conversation again.  “But the lessons of grief… those each man must learn for himself.  Still, I would offer you what I can in the way of advice.”

 

“Of course,” Daniel replied, turning to look at his father-in-law.

 

Kasuf kept his gaze focused forward.  “You loved my daughter well, Good Son.  I could not have wished for her any better husband.  And it has always given me great comfort to know that you have fought with all of your strength to find her and bring her home safe.”

 

Daniel’s stomach twisted.  “But…?”

 

Kasuf turned to him then, and Daniel saw in his expression the utmost resolve.  “But I have grown to think of you truly as my own son, not only the husband of my daughter.  And my desire is for you to be well and happy.”  He placed a hand, firm and supportive, on Daniel’s shoulder.  “Promise me that you will not allow yourself to be destroyed by guilt, by feeling that you failed Sha’re.”

 

Daniel swallowed hard but held the man’s stare.  “I promise that I will try to fulfill your wish, Good Father.”

 

Kasuf nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and patted Daniel on the back.

 

The sound of conversation outside, though still too low to make out specific words, was steadily increasing and Kasuf nodded toward the tent entrance.  “And now, perhaps it is good that you should go and be with your friends.  Isolation is fine for reflection, but it is apt to lead them to worry on your behalf.”

 

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Daniel’s mouth.  “You always were very perceptive.”  He stood and offered a hand to help his father-in-law up, but the older man didn’t release his grip right away.

 

“They care for you very much,” Kasuf said, his tone compassionate.  “Allow them to help you.  Allow them to offer comfort, in whatever way they can.  It will be good, for all of you.”

 

Daniel’s mind flashed to earlier, and how it had meant so much to see his friends standing beside Sha’re’s grave, taking part in the burial ceremony.  Except this time, unlike in the dream, Teal’c had been there too.  Thank you, he whispered silently, thinking of his wife once more.  You also gave me opportunity to begin forgiving Teal’c.

 

“I will, Good Father.”  Daniel shook the strong hand still clasping his own.  “I will.”

 

 

^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *   ^   *  

 

 

Daniel remained mostly silent during the trek back to the Gate, but he welcomed the encouraging camaraderie of the small entourage.  Several of the Abydonians had decided to accompany them, and they were dispersed among the SG personnel as they made their way across the sand.  He noticed that Sam and Teal’c were walking together, chatting with some of the young men who had been involved during that first mission to Abydos.  Jack was regaling Kasuf with some tale from his earlier military service, and by the expression on his father-in-law’s face, Daniel surmised it was a rather humorous one.  As he continued to survey the crowd, Daniel spotted General Hammond and Janet, walking near the front of the group.

 

Like the other SG members, she’d changed from her dress uniform into military fatigues for the journey between the village and the Gate.  The sight of her in such attire – the bulky pockets and combat boots appearing outlandishly conspicuous on her small frame – seldom failed to bring a smile to his face and this time was no exception.  Unexpectedly, Janet paused and glanced over her shoulder, as if she’d somehow read his thoughts.  Daniel’s smile quickly faded in the sensation of culpability, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look away.  She found him in the crowd then, offered a somewhat hesitant smile of her own, and then turned back to her conversation with Hammond.

 

Daniel pulled off his glasses and mopped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of one sleeve.  There was something slightly off kilter about Janet’s behavior lately, but he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.  She’d seen to his physical recovery, of course, with the same gentle yet unyielding competence he’d come to appreciate.  And she’d been supportive and kind, nothing less than he would have expected of such a good friend.  But…  Well, if he didn’t know better, Daniel would have sworn she was walking on egg shells around him.

 

Maybe she’s just not sure how best to offer sympathy, he considered, slipping the spectacles back on.  But even as he proposed that explanation, another part of his brain scoffed at it.  Hadn’t Janet been one of the few who seemed, on so many occasions, to know exactly what to say or do to get through to him?

 

He shook his head, irritated that his thinking was even following this path.  You know full well that part of the reason you’re so wound up about this is because of the way you feel about her.  And, as expected, the confession brought a fresh wave of self-reproach.

 

He was beginning to work through his feelings of guilt much in the same way he was beginning to work through his grief – small steps forward in what seemed a journey of little to no progress.  He only hoped that, given enough time, he’d be able to recognize some sense of accomplishment in the struggle.

 

Granted, he had thought he’d made certain strides.  After recognizing and admitting his feelings for Janet, Daniel had worked to keep them in a nice and tidy, but determinedly hidden, part of his life.  But losing Sha’re seemed to be threatening that little secluded area in ways that, frankly, he didn’t fully understand.  Nor was he too comfortable with the idea of even attempting to understand it.  All he knew for certain was that he feared his grief over Sha’re, and his guilt regarding his feelings toward Janet, would forever be bound together.

 

They’d reached the pyramid by now and Daniel blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust as he stepped out of the harsh sunlight into the cool dimness of the inner chamber.  Sam was already at the DHD, dialing the coordinates, and Jack was offering farewells to the Abydonians he knew.  Daniel began making his own good-byes, patiently but gratefully accepting the words and embraces of each who came up to him.  Kasuf was the last, and Daniel surprised himself by clinging to his father-in-law a bit longer than perhaps was customary.  But when they finally parted, his father-in-law merely nodded in understanding.

 

“You will always be welcome here, Good Son,” Kasuf said.  “This will always be your home.”

 

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered, feeling the unwelcome sting of tears.  He turned to go but the older man reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

 

“And you will be whole again.”  Kasuf’s eyes bored into Daniel’s with an intensity that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.  “I know it.”

 

The older man’s advice from earlier echoed in his mind once more.  Don’t allow guilt to destroy you.  Let your friends help you.

 

Daniel nodded, turned and stepped toward the Gate.  He desperately wanted to believe that his father-in-law had spoken the truth, that he would be whole again some day.  But he couldn’t help wondering if, where Janet Frasier was concerned, such a thing was any longer possible.

 

 

~ FINIS ~

 

 

 

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