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Suggested
Rating: for teen and
older readers
Category: Daniel/Janet
Setting: Around the events of Out of Mind and Into the Fire.
Synopsis: There’s nothing like a little
cryogenic sleep to bring one to a startling discovery. And because it’s Daniel, there’s
bound to be lots of angst involved.
Author’s
Comments: Part11 in The Journey series. Um, Isabelle, I know I told you
I’d address the shorter hair issue in this one, but it didn’t
work out. Don’t worry
– I still want to tackle it at some point in the near future. And thanks to Sonia, my editor –
she makes me look good. ; )
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, belong to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living
or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
BREAKDOWN
- by
Michelle Lunsford (October 2005)
“I’m
sorry, but I just can’t
remember!”
Daniel was
too weary to mask his hostility toward the man standing in front of him.
“I
think we’ve done enough for this session,” Dr. Raully interrupted,
breaking the tense silence. From
the corner of his eye Daniel saw her direct her attention toward the general and
add, “We can try again in a few hours. But now he needs rest.”
Trofsky shot
the woman a distinct look of dissatisfaction as he barked out, “Very
well.” Then, turning on his
heel, he exited the room.
“Why
don’t you lie down, Doctor Jackson?” Raully suggested, placing a hand
firmly against his shoulder.
“I’m sure you’ll feel better, and be able to
concentrate more, after a little sleep.”
Daniel
huffed in frustration but allowed the dark-haired doctor to push him back
against the sterile bedding. He
found himself wondering, again, why no one had brought him any clothing. Guess
in 2077 they don’t even bother with those embarrassingly flimsy
infirmary gowns, he reflected sarcastically. He then fixed his gaze at the ceiling
overhead in an effort to rein in his haphazard thoughts.
He didn’t
know if it was a residual effect of the actual freezing process, the drugs
associated with the process, or simply the shock of what had happened to him,
but he’d been unable to focus his mind since they had revived him. And considering what had happened, he desperately wanted to
be able to focus. It seemed at
least one small way he might achieve authority in a circumstance that was so
desperately beyond his control.
What happened? he asked himself for the
hundredth time. Jack, Sam, and Teal’c are dead? He couldn’t bring himself to
believe it. He couldn’t
believe he alone had survived.
And he certainly couldn’t believe that whoever had done this had
seen fit to preserve him in cryogenic storage.
His
vision was becoming increasingly blurry now and he began to feel slightly
light headed. He guessed that was
a sign the drugs they were administering would soon take effect, forcing him
into medicated slumber. He fought
against it, grasping at snippets of images as they flitted through his mind.
None of
it made any sense. He recalled
the pre-mission briefing and the locker room prep. He even remembered Jack rambling on
and on to Teal’c about the latest episode of The Simpsons as they’d come strolling into the gate room. But everything after the moment they
had stepped through the gate was a complete blank. And added to his frustration was the
fact that, although it felt to him like those events had occurred only hours
before, it had actually been almost seventy nine years ago.
So not only are my friends dead, he thought bitterly, everyone I ever knew is dead.
He saw
Sha’re then, in his mind’s eye, from some memory when she’d
been smiling and happy. It
occurred to him that she might still be alive. No sooner had that notion registered
than he also comprehended that would mean Sha’re had endured almost
eighty years of imprisonment to Amonet.
I’d almost rather she had
died than suffer that fate…
One after
another, in some random order only his subconscious seemed to know, faces appeared
before him. This was a grief
unlike any he’d experienced before. Certainly he’d lost friends and
family in his life. He’d
also known how it felt to die or be presumed dead by others. But none of that compared with the
pain of being left alone after everyone
else was gone.
Suddenly
one visage fixed itself before all the others and Daniel nearly choked aloud
at the unexpected flood of loss that ripped through his heart.
I’ll never see her again
– the friendly smile or the stern look. I’ll never hear her gentle
voice, her laughter. I’ll
never feel her touch…
The
medications beckoned him closer to unconsciousness and he struggled fiercely
against it, inexplicably fearful now that should he drift off he’d no longer
remember her when next he woke.
As the drugs finally claimed him the last thought that went through
Daniel’s mind was how much he regretted never realizing that Janet
Frasier had meant so very much to him.
^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *
Finally!
It had
taken all his will to maintain the necessary attentiveness to complete his
report of their latest mission. He
was exhausted, both mentally and emotionally, making concentration a
continual challenge. But at last
it was complete. Daniel knew it
would need proofing, but that part could wait until tomorrow.
As he
pressed the key combination to save the file, Daniel glanced at the time
readout on the bottom of his computer screen. As he’d suspected it was over an
hour past when his shift had ended.
He’d already decided to spend the night on base. The injury to his leg wasn’t
serious but sufficed to prevent his being able to drive. And although the SGC could have
arranged transportation for him, he’d not wanted to go to the bother. Still, the idea of making his way to
his quarters was not appealing.
He’d have to move slowly on account of his leg. And despite his fatigue and the pain
meds Warner had prescribed for bedtime, he feared sleep would prove elusive.
Removing
his glasses Daniel rubbed at tired eyes and sighed heavily. When
did my life become so complicated?
“Now
why did I know you’d still be awake and working?”
The voice
that suddenly called from his doorway was plainly amused but he knew it well
enough by now to recognize the trace of worry hiding beneath the surface. Repositioning the spectacles he
managed what he hoped would be a welcoming smile even as he inwardly
acknowledged that this was the last person he needed to see.
“Because
I’m incorrigibly predictable,” he replied, aiming for a sense of
levity he did not feel.
The
effort earned him a momentary smirk in response which produced an undesired
fluctuation in his heart rate. As
Janet entered his office her look softened to one of affectionate concern. Daniel doubted he’d be any safer
in light of such expressions.
“I
heard about the mission,” she began, coming to a halt beside his
desk. She hesitated slightly, as
if choosing her words carefully, before adding, “I just wanted to stop
by and see how you were doing.”
Part of
him was genuinely touched by her solicitude. He knew that Janet would provide, with
overwhelming compassion, whatever he asked of her – a listening ear, a
comforting embrace, honest reassurances.
But in light of his recent epiphany Daniel wanted nothing more than to
retreat from every friendly gift she might offer.
“Oh,
not so bad,” he answered, knowing it was a bold face lie. “Doctor Warner did a pretty good
job of stitching up my leg.”
He’d added the comment in another attempt at light-heartedness,
but remembering that Janet had been busy with an emergency when SG-1 had
returned from their mission gave him what he hoped would be an opportunity to
change the subject. “By the
way, how was the surgery?”
“Extended
and tedious,” Janet admitted.
“Captain Monroe has a long road of rehab ahead of him but
he’s going to be fine.”
He
crossed his arms and nodded encouragingly. “That’s good.”
Janet
took a step closer and fixed her eyes on him. “But I didn’t exactly come
here to talk about my surgical skills or your injury.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and,
although the touch was light, it sent a jolt straight through him. “Daniel, I know Hathor was the
one behind what happened on this past mission.
“I’d
rather not talk about it,” he hastily replied.
She
raised her eyebrows in silent question, obviously not accepting this lie
either.
He did
long to tell her what was on his mind – how unnerving it had been
seeing Hathor again, how relieved he’d felt after learning that
Hathor’s breath no longer could control them, and how it tore him up
inside to watch Jack being taken as a host.
But at
the same time, now that he was in her presence, he distinctly felt other
things. Her eyes were so warm and
deep, adding to what was already an undeniable beauty. He couldn’t help but admire the
dark auburn of her hair and the way it framed her face. There was a light scent, pleasant but
not perfumed, that seemed decidedly her own. And although he knew there was great
strength in her petite form he now found himself wishing to discover what
gentleness or – dare he admit it – even passion might also lurk
there. It was these feelings,
combined with the guilt they also provoked in him, which forced him to shut
her out.
“I’m
sorry, Janet. I just can’t
talk about it. Not this
time.” He’d had to
look away with his admission, and when Janet pulled her hand from his shoulder
he lamented the loss of contact.
“I’m
sorry too,” she replied, the hurt in her voice clearly audible. “But I’ll try to
understand, and abide by your wishes.”
That comment
pulled his eyes back to her and he almost lost his resolve.
Oh Janet, I can’t even begin
to express what I wish…
She took
a couple steps back and slid her hands into the pockets of her medical
jacket. “I trust Doctor
Warner gave you strict instructions about taking it easy on that leg?”
As much
as it pained him to watch her retreat to the safety of professional
conversation he was also grateful for it. “Yes. And I’m staying on base tonight. In fact, I was just about to head to
my quarters when you dropped by.”
She
nodded and took a few more steps away from him. “Then I won’t keep
you.” She offered a tiny
smile but it did little to hide the sadness still lingering in her
demeanor. “I hope
you’ll rest well. But
don’t hesitate to call the infirmary if you need anything.”
He gave a
slight nod but said nothing.
Disappointment and relief battled within as he watched her turn and
walk away. She paused at the
exit, resting a hand against the door frame, and for a moment Daniel feared
he might give in and call her back.
Then she stepped into the hall and was gone.
It’s for the best, he tried to reassure himself as
he reached to shut down his computer for the night. But he couldn’t shake the
feeling that even if he somehow managed to suppress the depth of his
feelings, if he fought against this for all he was worth, it had already
begun to damage the friendship he so treasured.
And other relationships as
well…
Reflexively
his gaze wandered toward the picture on his desk.
“I’m
sorry,” he whispered to the photo of his wife as his eyes clouded with
tears.
That was another
part of what made this so maddening.
He’d never had any intention of developing feelings for his
doctor and friend. And despite
the fact it had happened anyway, he would do everything in his power not to act on them. Still, he couldn’t help feeling
horribly guilty. His love for
Sha’re had not abated in the least, but her absence from his life these
past two years had apparently taken its toll. He felt as if he’d betrayed her.
To make
it all the worse, he somehow knew Sha’re would never see it that way. She would understand. She would forgive him. And in the back of his mind a tiny
voice taunted him with the realization that even if he did, in a moment of
weakness, act on these feelings he had for Janet then – though it would
hurt his wife terribly – Sha’re would still manage to forgive
him.
“I
never meant for this to happen.”
Daniel
traced that smiling face with the tip of one finger, uncertain if the
statement had been more to reassure his wife or himself. Blinking back tears he murmured,
“I just miss you, Sha’re.
I miss you so much.”
He picked
up the picture and kissed it.
Then, with a final penitent gaze, he placed it back on the desk. Reaching into his pocket he fumbled
around for the prescription Warner had supplied. There was a bit of coffee remaining in
his mug and he winced at the tepid staleness when he swallowed. The burning pain in his leg had returned
as he’d been writing that report, but it was the promise of a dreamless
sleep that had prompted him to take the pills. Wearily he stood, wincing again as he
put weight on the injured leg. The
trek to his room was not going to be fun. But he doubted the throbbing in his
leg would do much to distract either his thoughts or the ache in his
heart. Sighing heavily, he braced
himself for the pain, and headed for the door.
~ FINIS ~
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