Title: A Risky Path

Rating: Teen or older audience.

Pairing: Daniel/Janet

Setting: Takes place during season 7, with a bit of season 10 thrown in at the very end (although no real references to season 10 events). Somewhat AU as we ignore Janet’s death in “Heroes”, but otherwise takes most canon into account.

Synopsis: This was my assigned challenge for the Daniel/Janet Ficathon. Written for Brynn H, in response to her submitted challenge as follows: Due to an alien device, Daniel lives an entire lifetime with Janet before his team finds a way to disrupt the device. How does Daniel deal with being back in "reality"?

Notes: I have no medical knowledge, and I didn’t bother to do a whole lot of research either. So the basic mind whammy scenario I concocted for purposes of this story is just that, a concoction. Apologies in advance for inconsistencies or errors any medical professionals may encounter while reading. Much thanks to my beta, Sonia. She not only provides a much needed pair of editorial eyes, but somehow helps me to fall in love with my own stories.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I don’t technically have permission to use them. But I don’t think they’re much the worse for wear for my borrowing them for the purposes of this story. And I didn’t receive any financial remuneration for this foray with my muse.

A RISKY PATH

- by Michelle Lunsford (October 2006)

“Hey, Doc?” The voice was familiar but slightly unnatural, as if coming from a distance through a viscous murk. “I think he’s coming around,” the voice continued, clearer this time, and a name suddenly pierced the fog of his mind.

Jack.

But it wasn’t the name he was looking for, hoping for, and with considerable effort he fought against the fog once more.

There were other sounds now, louder and increasingly distinct. He began to notice the acrid odor of antiseptic. The infirmary, his mind slowly registered. I must be in the infirmary.

The sense of desperation increased with that realization, although he couldn’t perceive why, and he clawed his way closer to the surface of full consciousness. He felt movement – of someone or something, he didn’t know – just above his face, a light but unmistakable fragrance wafting with it. Whatever it was, it signaled instant relief to his confused mind and reflexively he reached out, grabbing for it.

“Daniel?”

Composed, in control, but with a tinge of concern. Others would have missed that part, he knew, but he was as accustomed to those vocal inflections as he was the sound of his own breathing.

Carefully he opened his eyes, vision confirming what touch had already communicated. He was holding onto her arm, lightly but firmly. Wide, slightly questioning brown eyes stared back at him. He dare not blink, much less release his grasp of her arm. It felt far too real to be a dream, and he would not let it slip away.

“So young,” he whispered, his own voice sounding not quite right to his ears, and reached up to lovingly trace the line of one flawless cheek. “And as beautiful as ever.”

In place of the affectionate smile he’d hoped to see was a disconcerted frown and furrowed brow.

“Daniel, I need you to tell me how you’re feeling.” Janet’s tone was far too detached now. “I need to know if you remember what happened.”

He blinked, awareness of his surroundings coming into sharper focus now.

Something’s wrong… His mind began to race.

Janet wasn’t merely young again, she was dressed as one of the medical staff rather than in the well-worn burgundy cardigan he’d given her years ago. And although this room felt undeniably familiar, he now realized it was not the same hospital room he’d been in moments ago. His eyes darted, quickly scanning the area. Without his glasses he couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if Jack was younger and dressed differently than he should be as well. Sensing a rising panic, Daniel reached up with his free hand to touch his own face. No deep wrinkles, and hair still thick, as in his youth.

He turned pleading eyes toward her again, his grip on her arm tightening slightly. “Jan, what’s going on?”

“That’s what we’re going to try and find out.” Her voice was softer now, more reassuring. “But in order to do that I need you to relax,” her eyes momentarily flicked to where his hand still grasped her wrist, “and answer my questions.”

He released her arm and nodded.

“What do you remember?”

Daniel closed his eyes, trying to sort through the increasingly jumbled images that ran through his head.

“I was in the hospital. You were there.” He felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought of her, the older her, clasping his hand, her tears stinging where they fell onto his face as she continually whispered over and over, I’ll always love you… “And I was dying.”

He was just about to open his eyes again when another mental image took precedence among those competing for his attention.

He was dressed in green military fatigues and seated before a stone altar, fingers gently tracing over the strange yet recognizable patterns carved on its surface. His friends were nearby; Sam and Teal’c, sharing some conversation that he intentionally tuned out. The patterns formed words in his mind. Ancient text, but he knew the Ancient rhyme pattern would be lost in the translation. Slowly, in a hushed voice, he spoke them aloud…

The path to joy may be found

Among what lies without

Only when one chooses to see

What truly lies within.

He’d suddenly become enveloped in a bright, golden light. In his mind’s eye Daniel could see himself, slumping over onto the floor, could hear the alarm in Sam’s voice as she noticed and cried out, and then…

His eyes snapped open as he bolted upright in the infirmary bed. “How long have I been out?” he demanded.

Janet blinked at him, clearly taken aback by his brusque demeanor. “A little over seven hours.”

“Only seven hours?” He stared at her, unbelieving. But he knew it had to be true. Because somehow, beyond logic or reason, he knew what had happened. And with that realization a new wave of grief washed over him. “Then it wasn’t…” Daniel reached up to touch his forehead, which now seemed to throb with a very physical manifestation of his emotional pain, and noticed his hand was trembling. “None of it was real.”

A sob tore from his throat, quickly turning to a scream as sorrow mixed with anger. Blindly he jerked at the wires connecting him to the medical monitors and sprang from the bed.

“Hey!”

Daniel heard Janet’s cry of surprise a split-second before he felt something solid slam him across the chest. An equally solid arm immediately landed against his back, effectively securing him in place.

“No!” Daniel shouted, struggling in vain against his friend.

“Dammit, Daniel,” Jack’s tone was even more firm than his locked handclasp, “just calm down.”

Daniel knew there was no reason to continue struggling, that there was nowhere to go. But the desire to escape this sense of loss was overwhelming. Digging bare feet against the cold floor he strained for one more shove against his friend’s iron-grip hold… and then felt Jack suddenly let go.

He barely made it two steps before the room began to spin. The last thing he saw, before blackness took him, was Janet, hypodermic in hand, and a look of genuine regret on her face.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

Janet was in the midst of her usual end-of-shift paperwork when a light rap, rap, rap sounded from the doorway.

“So, how is he?” Colonel Jack O’Neill asked without preamble.

Janet stilled her pen and tried not to sigh in exasperation. “He’s resting, but there’s been no change in his condition.”

O’Neill nodded but his gaze was already directed above and behind her, to where she knew Daniel lay in the far infirmary bed.

“You’re welcome to sit with him,” Janet said softly, choosing for once not to wait and make him ask. “Put I’d prefer if his rest was not disturbed.”

The barest hint of a smile momentarily pulled at the corner of the colonel’s mouth. “Thanks, Doc, I owe you one,” he whispered before easing past her.

Janet simply shook her head, smiling in return. But her good humor quickly faded as her thoughts involuntarily settled on the object of O’Neill’s current concern. She pointedly ignored those thoughts, making an effort to resume her paperwork. Who am I trying to kid, she mused after several seconds ticked past and she’d written nothing. Closing the file on which she’d been working, she dropped her ink-pen on top and pushed up from the desk.

Hands buried deep in the pockets of her lab coat, Janet strode down the empty hall, the soft click-clack of her military heels echoing almost mockingly back at her. Two weeks, two long weeks in which she’d stood by and watched Daniel’s condition deteriorate while also failing to arrive at any viable means to help him. It was times like this when she really hated her job.

She stepped onto the elevator, punched in the floor for the mess hall, and leaned back against the wall with a heavy sigh. Part of the problem was, she knew, that Daniel’s condition involved aspects that were clearly outside her field of expertise. But even Doctor MacKenzie hadn’t been very successful, and what frustrated Janet all the more was her suspicion that it had more to do with Daniel in this instance than it did MacKenzie.

The corridor leading to the mess hall was slightly more populated, even this late at night, and the few people Janet encountered offered nods of acknowledgement as she passed. But she was grateful to find the mess empty and settled at one of the corner tables, alone with a cup of coffee and her thoughts.

She’d read the report. Read it several times in fact. And the truth was, despite how much Daniel’s attitude disheartened her, Janet wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be responding similarly if this situation had happened to her.

How does one experience an entire lifetime in another reality and then just return to the present reality as if it never happened?

It was a question she, and others who knew and cared about Daniel, had been dealing with in recent days. Unfortunately, the one who’d actually experienced it was the one having the most difficulty coming up with a real answer.

Janet ran a hand through her hair in aggravation. She’d been through this in her mind so many times she’d lost count. If you’re going to invest mental energy on this, woman, at least do it in some way that isn’t a total loss!

Taking a sip of coffee, and wrinkling her nose at the too-bitter taste, she redirected her thoughts toward the more medical side of Daniel’s case. Is there anything I might be missing..?

According to the report, Daniel had passed out while off-planet. They’d brought him back to earth, where Janet had run numerous tests and concluded that he was not in any physical danger. Nor was he in a coma. If anything, his condition reminded her most of the dream-like state into which Shifu had once induced him. Daniel had remained unconscious for a little over seven hours, at which point he’d returned to consciousness on his own. There was nothing to indicate that his body had lived a whole other life. However, successive MRI results showed an increase in brain activity, specifically in the area that experts believed dealt with memory. It had been a steady increase since Daniel first returned to consciousness, leveling off only within the past 48 hours. It had also affected his serotonin levels, which she’d deduced was why Daniel likewise was having difficulty sleeping and eating.

Janet had put out some queries and sought research from those with more experience in this area – or, at least she had as much as was possible without endangering security clearance – but even she knew enough to be worried about what this kind of increased brain activity might mean long-term.

And in the short-term?

Janet stared down into her now empty mug. They were attempting to balance his levels of serotonin artificially, and she could give him sedatives to help him sleep, but those solutions merely palliated the situation. And the longer this went on, the more she began to question if there was potential of a genuine cure for her friend.

Especially, she reflected sadly, when he doesn’t appear to want one.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

“You’re sure you understand what this means, Doctor Jackson?”

Daniel starred back, blinking only once, before he answered the General. “Doctor Frasier’s assessment is that unless I develop proper coping skills to help deal with the emotional and mental problems caused by the increase in brain activity, I will continue to sink further into a state of depression. Doctor MacKenzie’s assessment is that any potential recovery I can hope to achieve will be in large part due to my own desire to do so. Yes, sir, I understand completely. And I still wish to remove myself from the care of both doctors, as well as tender my resignation from the SGC.”

Daniel noticed the fine lines around the general’s eyes tightened slightly as he digested that response. Then he slowly, deliberately, rose from his desk and walked around to the other side.

“Doctor Jackson,” he paused, and with only a hint of hesitation placed his hand on the archaeologist’s shoulder. “Daniel, I know this experience has been especially difficult for you. But you have a lot of friends here who care about you very much, myself included. We just don’t want you making any rash decisions that you’ll come to regret later.”

And all those other friends, in my other life… Despair pulled at him and Daniel shoved the unbidden thought away. There’s no way I can make you understand, General. I’m sorry. He put as much sincere regret into his tone as he could manage and answered aloud, “I appreciate that, sir. But, as my friend, I’m asking you to accept my decision. Please.”

Hammond’s hand returned to his side but his expression remained determined. “And as your friend, I’ll make this concession. You presently have twenty-three days of personal leave. At the end of that time, unless I’ve heard from you otherwise, I’ll file your official resignation.”

It hardly matters, but no harm in placating him, Daniel reflected. “Very well,” he acquiesced.

“And my advice is to take that time and carefully consider the full ramifications of your decision.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He glanced away, knowing the older man would see right through the lie.

When the general said nothing further, Daniel turned to go. But at the last moment Hammond reached out again, gently catching him by the arm.

“And don’t shut out your friends, son. They’ve helped you through a lot of scrapes. And they’ll help you now, if you let them.”

Hammond’s expression was so genuine, and Daniel desperately wanted to believe him. If only it weren’t for…

Daniel said nothing more. He simply waited for the general to release him, then turned and walked away.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

He wasn’t even sure why he was bothering to pack up items from his office. This life, his supposed real life, felt just as authentic as the one he’d experienced in the dream, and yet he felt he no longer belonged to it. Or, at least, he wished he no longer belonged. These mementos and personal belongs seemed to be just so much purposeless stuff now.

There will be less questions if you at least make a show that you care, he reminded himself, and continued packing.

He was barely half-way through the endeavor when he received the unwanted visitor.

“So, you were just going to leave without even saying good-bye? I thought I deserved at least that much, if not as a friend then, as your doctor and co-worker, from professional courtesy.”

The hurt was evident in her tone, seeping through the veil of anger layered around it, and Daniel’s eyes momentarily closed in remorse. Earlier he’d been thankful that he’d yet to be returned to active duty, and so SG-1 currently being off world meant he could take care of this unpleasant business without them being around to interfere. But at the moment he would gladly have taken on all three of his friends at once if it meant avoiding the confrontation now before him.

He turned to face her. She was standing with feet planted firmly apart and hands on hips, emphasizing the façade of her anger. But in the ensuing silence her stance eased slightly, and her voice was a little more even when she spoke again.

“I’ve tried to be understanding. I really have. But none of this makes any sense.” She took a few steps into the room, and Daniel felt his apprehension begin to rise as the distance between them lessened. “I know this has been a difficult ordeal. I know you’re dealing with alterations of brain chemistry. But, Daniel, this is just not like you.”

“And what is ‘like me’? I’m not sure I even know any more.” The words, raw and tortured, were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He didn’t think it was possible but the pain in her eyes actually intensified. She stepped even closer and her voice came out as little more than a whisper. “Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Janet, please…” Daniel moved, angling away in an effort to put the large laboratory table between them. “I’m leaving. And I’m not going to change my mind. Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

“Make it worse?” Janet’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How can it be made worse if you won’t even allow us, your friends, to help you?”

He offered no answer. There was no way he could help her understand. So why bother trying.

Daniel watched as she took a slow, deep breath, her posture relaxing further. Any moment now she would say something. It didn’t matter what, because he knew it would be so full of sincerity that he’d have to consider it. And then the tenuous grip he held on what was left of his sanity would begin to falter. So he did the only thing he knew to do. Did it, despite knowing how much it would hurt her.

Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Daniel turned his back to her and, not bothering to keep the chill from his voice, said, “Janet, go away.”

He waited in utter stillness, silently counting off each painful second before he could be certain that she’d made her way down the corridor outside his office, before he could just get the hell out of this place.

When Daniel felt the warmth of a gentle touch on his arm it pulled him so forcibly from his self-imposed paralysis that he jerked away as if burned. A deep sense of foreboding welled in the pit of his stomach even as his eyes locked with hers, seemingly of their own volition.

Dear God, not tears – anything but her tears, he silently cursed as the final threads of his composure began to unravel.

Daniel shook his head. “My friends can’t help me. Not this time.” He swallowed hard as his thoughts echoed, and you least of all.

“And I refuse to believe that, especially when you haven’t allowed us to try,” Janet retorted, some of her original ire returning. “Daniel, you won’t even talk to us about it.”

“Talk?” The word came out almost as a laugh, hollow and bitter. “And how, precisely, am I supposed to talk about…” he waved a hand in the air, back and forth between them, but couldn’t bring himself to actually say anything more.

She reached to touch him again, but fortunately stilled herself when he took a step back. “Daniel, I’m your friend. And so many times in the past we’ve been able to help each other through our troubles by talking. You even once told me that there were things you felt you could tell me, when you couldn’t talk to anyone else.” He watched as she attempted a smile, but didn’t quite succeed. “Can’t you trust me, just once more, enough to talk about this?”

“I don’t ¾” It took a great deal of willpower to halt himself. No, I can’t do this!

“I imagine it’s been so painful for you,” she began, taking one tentative step toward him. “Experiencing that entire other life, with your friends still around you and yet things so different from what you know here.”

He’d been as vague as he could in the details of his report, offering only what he felt was absolutely necessary – like the information that in his dream reality all his friends had been a part of his life, but all the circumstances had been changed. He’d been a successful and quite satisfied professor at the university. The others had similar professions suited to their skills and personality. But there’d been no SGC. And as for Janet…

He immediately clamped down on that line of thinking as his mind screamed, why am I allowing her to do this? But he simply nodded numbly in reply as Janet continued speaking.

“And having a wife and children,” she took another step closer, “spending all those years together with them…”

“The memories are so vivid,” his voice was haunted. How many times had he uttered those words in the past weeks? And yet it seemed there was no way to completely communicate just how real that other life had been to him.

“You must miss them terribly.” She was standing right in front of him now, her voice as soft and warm as a comforting embrace.

“Yes.” Hearing the almost imperceptible tremor in his own voice, Daniel realized then that he was trembling.

“It’s okay,” she gently assured. And this time her smile, though slight, was completely genuine.

Daniel didn’t know how long he stood there, just staring down at her, scarcely daring to breathe. Oh, how he wanted to… Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he sensed a warning. He had to keep to fighting.

This would be so much easier if I could only forget that other life…

But gazing down into that lovely face – even knowing how much it pained him – Daniel had to admit that he didn’t want to forget. Not ever.

“No,” he said in a quiet voice. He began to shake his head, perhaps more to convince himself than her, and took another step back to increase the space between them once more. “It’s not okay. And it can’t be okay. It… it just can’t.”

Confusion was clearly reflected in those deep pools of brown but her voice remained soothing and affectionate. “Why?”

Daniel could only shake his head again in reply.

He felt, more than heard, her sigh. As the silence grew he prayed that perhaps this would be the end of it. Perhaps she’d finally give in and just walk away.

She didn’t.

“Daniel,” her own voice was quivering now and tears were welling in her eyes again, “I know this is painful, but I care about you too much to just let this drop.”

He tried to back away, but she moved with him this time, and within two steps he found his back pressed against the wall, with no room for escape.

“You’ve faced so much trial and sorrow in your life, but you’ve persevered. Why is this time so different?” She was so close now that he could feel the warmth of her. “I know it can’t be easy to experience losing Sha’re all over again, but why, why are you so intent on letting it destroy you this time?”

Perhaps it was the feeling of being trapped, physically and emotionally. Maybe it was her unrelenting persistence. Or possibly it was that he just didn’t care any more. But with Janet’s final, impassioned plea, Daniel allowed the dam to burst.

“Because this time I didn’t lose Sha’re!” The words were low; so low that for a moment he wondered if she’d even hear them. But they carried the full weight of all the anguish, all the frustration, and all the love he’d been feeling since this whole nightmare began. “This time, I lost you!”

She gasped, eyes widening in astonishment. Daniel used that moment of surprise to move, stepping toward her and driving her back.

“In my other life I was married to Janet Frasier, brilliant medical doctor and university professor.” He willingly allowed his voice to rise with emotion now. “And I loved her so much, and she made my life so unbelievably complete, in ways that I never even dreamed were possible again. But that life was never real. And even though every memory of that life, every memory of her is still here,” he tapped at his temple, “with as much clarity and feeling as if I had actually lived it, I have to live with the realization that it was never real.”

Daniel was vaguely aware that they’d moved the entire length of the room, their situations reversed now as Janet stood back pressed against the shelves along the opposite wall. But he inched even closer, using the advantage of his height to tower over her.

“And now every time I see you or hear your voice…” Images suddenly flashed in his mind, unbidden, and he squeezed his eyes shut in a vain effort to block them. “I hate that it causes me to have thoughts I know I shouldn’t… I hate that it makes me question everything I feel toward you. I hate that I want something I cannot have.”

The intensity of his confession had lessened with each word, the fury of his struggle now spent. Slowly Daniel opened his eyes and forced himself to meet hers. There were myriad emotions reflected there – remorse, astonishment, maybe even a little fear. But nothing of what he saw surprised him. He’d seen it all, and much worse, every time he looked in a mirror these days.

Wearily he stepped away from her, disgusted with himself for losing control. But he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. And as long as he’d bared his soul, he might as well utter his final thought. Even if it means sealing the end of our relationship, forever.

He swallowed hard. “And as much as I care about you, as my friend, Janet, I can’t… I can’t seem to stop hating the fact that you’re not her.”

Daniel turned, walked out of his office, out of the mountain complex, and drove home.

And he never once looked back.

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

“And I thought I was the one with the workaholic reputation.”

Janet’s head snapped up in surprise. She’d been so engrossed in her reading that she hadn’t even heard the woman walk in.

“Hey, Sam,” she replied, rubbing at a newly discovered crick in her neck. She gave a quick glance at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning. “Wow. Guess I lost track of time.”

“That’s easy to do,” Sam said as she approached the desk. “Especially when one is emotionally invested in the work.” There was a light heartedness to her tone, but her expression was far more serious, especially when she met Janet’s eyes and asked, “So, how are you doing?”

Janet, knowing her friend wasn’t asking about the progress of her research, leaned back in the chair and sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I still don’t know quite what to make of the whole situation.”

The situation was common knowledge to the entire base by now. SG-1 had returned from their mission, not at all happy about discovering Daniel’s abrupt departure. They were even less happy when Janet chose to confide in them the nature of her final exchange with Daniel. In the days that followed they’d attempted, both alone and together, to talk to Daniel. They’d called his home and cell, only to leave repeated messages. They’d sent e-mail, which remained unanswered. They’d visited his home multiple times, but the best communication they’d managed to achieve was one-side conversations with his front door. Janet knew that O’Neill had tried, at least once, to break through one of Daniel’s windows in order to get inside and, as he said, beat some sense into that thick archaeologist skull. But thankfully Sam had been able to dissuade him.

During this time Janet had also attempted to sort through the varied emotions recent events had stirred in her. It had been confusing, to say the least.

Sam offered a sympathetic smile and gave Janet’s shoulder a squeeze. “Why can’t our lives ever be normal, right?”

Janet managed a smile in return. “Right.”

Sam drug over the extra office chair and sat down. “Well, as long as I’m here, can I lend a hand?”

“Sure,” Janet accepted enthusiastically. “Although I think I may need to take a little break.” She stood and made her way to the small coffee pot that occupied Daniel’s office. “Want a cup?”

Sam shook her head in the negative but didn’t look up, her attention already absorbed in the papers she was scanning.

Janet filled her mug and wrapped her hands around it, allowing it to warm her a moment before taking a sip of the steaming brew, and watched her friend work. Sometimes she didn’t know what she’d do without Sam’s friendship. Sure, all the members of SG-1 had been there for her as a source of comfort and strength through this situation – as they had countless times before. And they’d all agreed to do what they could to find some kind of solution to this mess. Teal’c and Sam had been working with her the past week as they scoured Daniel’s notes and recordings about the mission where he’d fallen under the influence of this strange stone altar.

But it was Sam who had picked up on the subtle clues Janet hadn’t even realized she’d been broadcasting. And it was Sam who had patiently listened and offered hugs and understanding when Janet tearfully confessed that this entire affair rattled her far more than she liked.

As much as Daniel’s outburst had startled her, as much as it had pained her, she couldn’t fault him for any of it. Because she really couldn’t deny that, had the situation been reversed, she would have responded all that differently.

Although Janet never regretted her decision to divorce, it had still been painful and included its own kind of grief. She’d tried to imagine what it might be like to share your whole life with someone you loved, and then lose them forever. She was convinced that kind of grief was far beyond what she’d experienced. Yet how much more difficult would it be to go through all that, only to wake and learn it had all been a dream?

And by the way, your spouse just happens to still be alive, except you’re only friends in real life, she reflected ruefully. Yeah, that’s just cruel no matter how you slice it.

With a sigh, Janet moved back to her chair and began perusing one of Daniel’s notebooks again. It was a page she’d read countless times before, and as her eyes fell to the inscription scribbled along one margin she heard the words echo in her head almost by rote.

The path to joy may be found

Among what lies without

Only when one chooses to see

What truly lies within.

Sounded like your average path-to-enlightenment mumbo-jumbo. Daniel’s notebook was full of such snippets. But for some reason Janet kept coming back to this one. She knew from the report that it was when Daniel had spoken this passage aloud, while seated at the stone altar, that he’d been washed in some kind of light and subsequently passed out. She couldn’t shake the notion that something in this passage was the key, and began to absently tap a pencil against the notebook as she let her thoughts wander.

So it involves looking inside oneself… that makes sense – based on everything Daniel’s ever told me, the Ancients are all about that sort of thing… But how is that connected to finding ‘the path to joy’..? And are they speaking of enlightenment here, or just your basic, everyday universal quest for happiness..? Although either way, it seems not to make much sense – the only thing Daniel’s found since this happened is depression and increasing misery… Unless¾

She shifted in the chair, not quite sure she wanted to follow where this new line of thought was headed.

Unless there is some truth to this ‘path to joy’ but it’s in the context of what Daniel experienced in his dream reality. He did say that life with Janet – good grief, has it really gotten so bad that I don’t even flinch when referring to an alternate reality version of myself? She almost chuckled out loud as her mind ran down that tangent, but quickly reined in her focus. He said that life with her was complete and happy… Could it really be as simple as the key to his finding happiness again already ‘lies within’ himself? That he just needs to realize that kind of love in his life once more, to have opportunity to express that kind of love to someone..?

And does at least some part of him want that someone to be me?

Janet suddenly felt eyes on her and glanced up to find Sam starring back. She had the sudden crazy notion that her friend might have actually surmised her thoughts, and her cheeks flushed, but then she realized her pencil-tapping had probably been distracting. She stilled the offending instrument and offered a hasty, “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, that’s not it,” Sam replied, leaning forward to place her chin in her palm, elbow propped squarely on the desk. “You looked pretty intense there. I was just curious about where your brain was going.”

Janet shared the gist of her recent thoughts. At least, she shared everything except the bit about unexpectedly wondering if Daniel was secretly in love with her.

“I see what you’re saying,” Sam commented. “Although, based on our supposition that this device was designed by the Ancients, with the intent to somehow impart knowledge or insight, we have to consider that their idea of the ‘path to joy’ may be something completely different from ours. And we also have to consider what’s happened in similar situations, like the time Colonel O’Neill had the Ancient database downloaded into his brain.” Janet noticed a hint of emotion flicker across Sam’s features at the memory, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. “Even what the Ancients intended for good can sometimes have very negative consequences.”

Janet nodded. “I agree. But I still can’t shake the feeling that this passage,” she pointed the eraser-end of her pencil to the writing in Daniel’s notebook, “is the key.”

There were several seconds of silence before Sam spoke again. “This would probably be a lot easier if we had Daniel here.” Janet noticed her friend didn’t quite manage to eliminate all the sadness from her tone. “He never got around to completing the translation of all the text on the altar before--” she faltered, even as Janet finished the statement in her own mind. Before he succumbed to his depression. “Anyway,” Sam went on, “there might be something else in the text that would give us more clues.”

They stared at each other, but it was Janet who finally gave voice to what she knew both were thinking.

“We have to try and talk to him again. We have to go see him.”

“He won’t let us in,” Sam stated the obvious.

“Then maybe Colonel O’Neill had the right idea about that window,” Janet pressed back, giving in to some of her exasperation.

Sam opened her mouth to make some kind of protest but Janet didn’t let her finish. “No, Sam, I’m right about this. And I think you know it. Besides… I think I can get him to talk to me.”

Sam cocked one eyebrow. “It was my understanding, based on how you described that last conversation, that you’re more likely the last person who can get him to talk in this instance.”

Janet scowled, but it wasn’t in response to her friend’s challenge. I’m going to have to tell her, she silently sighed.

“I know I’m not his Janet Frasier. But if he loved her enough to marry her and raise a family, then maybe he also…”

“You think he may be in love with you.” It wasn’t a question.

Janet nodded. “Even if he wasn’t before, all those feelings and memories from his other life have influenced his relationships here. So yes, I think it’s at least a possibility to consider.”

Sam held her gaze for what seemed an uncomfortably long time. “And are you in love with him?”

The question couldn’t have hit Janet with more force had it been a physical blow. But it’s an issue your inner thoughts has been skirting for days now, she chided herself, so maybe it’s time you bucked up and dealt with the idea.

“I honestly don’t know,” she finally answered. “But if it means I might be able to save Daniel from his own self-destruction, then I’m really beginning to hope that I am.”

~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~ ^ ~

They had banged on the door, and tried a variety of spoken persuasions for cooperation from their side of the door, for a good twenty minutes before Sam finally acquiesced.

“Okay, Janet,” she sighed, pulling the lock-pick kit from her pocket. “We do this your way.”

It was nearing mid-day now - both women had thought it prudent for them to get at least a few hours sleep before facing Daniel – but the stream of sunlight peering through the now open front door did little to dispel the darkness inside. Janet couldn’t help but note the dispiriting cast to this atmosphere had little to do with pulled shades or drawn curtains. She flipped the nearest switch and additional light filled the foyer, spilling over into the rooms beyond. Sam closed the door behind them as, wordlessly, the pair moved forward.

The place was as neat and tidy as Janet remembered it being on her occasional visits before, but as her eyes fell upon a few open and, if the smell was any indication, half-eaten Chinese take out containers on the kitchen counter she felt part of her heaviness unexpectedly fall away.

Thank goodness he’s at least eaten something.

They called his name but Janet wasn’t terribly surprised at the lack of answer. They methodically searched from room to room, but as each came up empty she began to perceive a new worry. What if he wasn’t even here? What if he’d just left, run off somewhere, and they never found him?

“Janet?”

Sam’s voice was soft, and her touch on Janet’s arm light, but it was enough to draw her attention toward the short side hall she’d missed before. It led to a guest bedroom, but they found it too was empty, and Janet’s hope sank further.

“We’ll find him” Sam said into the stillness, echoing Janet’s thoughts from a moment ago. “No matter where he’s gone, we can still find him.”

Janet nodded but it seemed just so much pretense. What was the point? She’d been foolish to even consider coming here, thinking she could talk to him. Why would he want to talk to her, the woman who could only remind him of what he’d lost?

I don’t blame him for hating this life, she thought. And I don’t blame him for hating the fact that I’m not her. She cast a slow, mournful glance around the empty room. But, so help me, Daniel Jackson if you go off and die somewhere, without giving me the chance to at least offer what I can, to share what affection I do have for you, then yes – I will blame you for that.

“He’s here,” she said.

“What?” Sam, who had already headed out of the room paused and turned back to her.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but he is here,” Janet insisted. “And I’m not leaving until I talk to him.”

She marched into the guest room’s tiny bath and jerked back the shower curtain. Nothing.

“Janet, don’t do this.” Sam’s voice was slightly pained.

Janet ignored her friend, dropping onto all fours to peer under the bed. Still nothing.

“Janet.”

Sam had moved to block Janet’s path, adding physical weight to her already more forceful tone, but not before Janet managed to reach for the sliding door of the room’s closet and quickly push it to the side.

There was Daniel, on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. It looked as if he were trying to scrunch himself as far back into the tiny space as his tall form would allow. He was still dressed in the civilian attire he’d worn that last day they’d spoken. His face was turned away but Janet could make out the week’s worth of stubble along the side of his jaw.

He looks so… broken.

She felt a comforting touch on her shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” Sam said quietly and then slipped away.

Cautiously, Janet knelt down outside the closet. “Daniel, I’ve come to talk to you.”

She hadn’t really expected an answer but it still hurt when she didn’t receive one. She reached out, only to pause mid-way. He hadn’t exactly responded in the positive to physical gestures of comfort the last time they’d talked. But she was going to be treading new territory here anyway. Might as well risk it.

“Please come out and talk with me,” she encouraged, glad when he didn’t recoil from the light touch of her hand on his arm. “Or can you at least turn and look at me?”

He remained motionless and with a sign of resignation Janet settled into a slightly more comfortable sitting position. “Very well.” She kept her voice gentle but made no effort to hide her own stubborn determination. “We can do this your way. But I came her to say some things to you and I’m not leaving until I’ve said them. What you do after you’ve heard them – or even if you choose to hear them at all – is entirely up to you.”

She waited a couple seconds for any sign of response. All she noted was the tiniest fraction of tightening in the muscle of his arm where her hand rested on it. But she didn’t pull her hand away.

“Daniel, I--”

On the drive here, she’d rehearsed in her head a least a hundred different things she could say. But now that she was here, Janet wasn’t certain which seemed best.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the things you told me before you left,” she finally began. “I suppose we all just assumed, when you said you were married in the other life, that it was Sha’re. And I think I can even understand why you chose to let us go on believing that, because in some way maybe it was easier. But I’m glad you finally shared the whole truth, as painful as it was for you, because I think it’s helped me to understand a little better how you feel.”

She paused, waiting for any new trace of response. When there was none, she went on.

“Daniel, I am so sorry that you’ve had to go through all this.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “You’ve suffered so much in you life, more than your fair share it seems, and this latest round has been particularly cruel.”

Janet felt the familiar stinging contraction at the back of her throat, felt her vision begin to blur slightly as her eyes misted with tears. You can’t back down now. You have to tell him everything.

Her voice wavered, just a little, as she pressed forward in her confession. “And it breaks my heart to know that I have in some way compounded your suffering this time. I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His voice was so hoarse, and muffled as he continued to face the back of the closet, that Janet almost missed it.

“Daniel, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear wh--”

“I said,” he was beginning to turn his head now, but never made it full circle, still avoiding her direct gaze as he stared toward his bare feet, “you have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.”

“Maybe so. But I can still be sorry for your pain. I can be sorry that I’m not, that I can never be the Janet you knew and loved so much in that other reality. And I am sorry I’m not her because,” she sniffled and tried not to think about how much she was trembling, “I’m beginning to wish I was.”

His head rose slightly at that. Not enough that she could see his eyes, but she took it as a positive sign.

“Wh--” His hesitation was palpable. “Why would you wish that?”

“Because I hate seeing you like this,” she waved a hand to indicate his current condition. “You’re my friend and I want you to be happy.” She noticed he winced slightly at her use of the term friend, but she ignored it. “And, according to you, that Janet Frasier made you very happy.” She softened her voice and brought her other hand up to rest on top of his knee. “But mostly because I care about you, Daniel. I care about you a lot. Probably even a lot more than I’ve been willing to admit.”

The silence stretched out so long that Janet began to question the wisdom of admitting how she felt.

“Rather convenient, especially in terms of timing, don’t you think?”

His words were harsh, but Janet chose to take no real insult from them. After all, she’d asked herself that same question.

“Yes. But I’ll be the first to admit that it usually takes something drastic for me to admit my feelings, especially the really serious ones.” She paused, vacillating on whether to share the final admission. No, he’s been perfectly honest with me. He deserves to know everything.

“I should have said something before now. See, when you ascended… well, that was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever gone through.” Janet tried to keep the anger from her voice but some of it seeped through anyway. “Still, I told myself that it was wrong to be mad at you for leaving. After all, how could I blame you for not knowing how I felt, especially when I didn’t even realize how I felt until after you’d gone?”

“I see your point.”

Had there been a glimmer of mirth in his tone just then? With his face still aimed toward the side wall, Janet couldn’t be certain, but she latched onto that glim