"Renaissance: J is for Judged"
Sep. 30th, 2011 09:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marzipan77Title: “Renaissance: J is for Judged”
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
marzipan77
Fandom: SG-1
Pairing: None
Rated: T+ for language and memories of violence
Summary: A series of fics beginning at Daniel’s descent back to Earth from the Ascended Plane. Chapter by chapter, these fics, about 1000 words each, beginning with “A”, will explore Daniel’s attempt to regain his memories, his mortal existence, and his place within the SGC and on SG-1.
Warnings: Angst/Emotional Whump/Memories of Death
Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate, or Jack, or Daniel, or anything but my cats.
Written for the Alphabet Challenge on the Stargate Drabbles List.
Summary: Is Daniel going home?
The clanking sound drew Daniel’s gaze to the Stargate. A moment later a strange, gangly device lurched through the puddle of suspended sky and the familiar, tinny voice issued from its thin neck.
“Colonel O’Neill, report.”
More than impatient now, somehow Daniel knew that that tone meant apprehension, concern; the powerful man who stood behind a sheet of glass on a world one step and a million miles away was worried. He frowned, pain pounding behind his eyes as he watched Jack move quickly to stand before the camera – the camera that would send a video signal back to the other man.
THAT he remembered. He remembered that a video or audio signal could preserve a voice or an image through the warping tunnel in space that connected one world to another, but not the names of his friends. What if he never remembered? What if those flashes of pain, the momentary snatches of connection were all he’d ever have, and these people who now crowded around him, herding him towards Jack and the Stargate – what if they only received back these tattered remnants of Daniel Jackson’s life? How could that be enough? He stumbled and tried to focus on taking one breath, and then another.
It wasn’t the teasing lightness that Jack meant them all to hear that echoed within Daniel’s aching mind. Something else colored the soldier’s easy tone, something darker and more desperate. “Well, General, we’d like your permission to bring along a hitchhiker.”
Permission? The winter wind raised bumps along Daniel’s skin.
… “You’re in no position to make demands, Jackson.” …
Panic caught at him. The man at the other end of the wormhole, the powerful man, could make Daniel’s exile on this planet permanent.
“Care to explain, Colonel?”
One hand snatched off the brown cap and brushed through the short silver hair. “Turns out the nice people here got a visitor about two months ago-”
“- closer to three by Earth measurements, sir,” Samantha hurriedly corrected from her position on Daniel’s left.
Daniel glimpsed narrowed brown eyes turn to her for a moment, but the interplay brushed past him, unimportant. No. He couldn’t – not now. Just one day ago Daniel would have fought to stay, to shelter in his tent cloaked in the reassuring loneliness of disconnection. But now – his gaze flickered from face to face, a wail of protest rising to a piercing screech within him, and, shaking, he grasped at the thick forearm of the Jaffa. This voice of power may choose to reject him as thoroughly as those ‘Ascended Beings’ had.
Was that his punishment for whatever dark deeds had led his conscience to accept this overwhelming feeling of utter failure? To be alone – abandoned by those he’d known as Daniel Jackson, whether in life or in whatever afterlife he’d been granted?
“As I was saying,” Jack continued his explanation. “About two months ago they discovered a stranger along one of their footpaths – didn’t know who he was. He first appeared in a bright flash of light.”
“It’s okay, Doctor Jackson.” Daniel jerked his attention to the young man in green who whispered nearby, one hand briefly resting on Daniel’s wrist where his fingers were clenched in the fabric of Teal’c’s sleeve. The man smiled and gestured. “This is just a machine we use to talk-”
“I know,” Daniel interrupted impatiently. He tightened his grip, unwilling to lose what tentative connection he might have to these people.
“ – but you – ”
“Jonas Quinn.” The deep voice of the Jaffa silenced the young man and Daniel raised panicked eyes to calm brown ones. “Daniel Jackson will be fine.”
Fine. He would be fine. It sounded like a promise. Daniel felt the fear loosen its grip and turned back to watch Jack’s side of the conversation. They hadn’t wanted to leave him with Shamda and the villagers, he reminded himself. They’d seemed anxious to convince Daniel to leave, to ‘go home.’
“Goa’uld?” The disembodied voice was angry, sharp, demanding answers. “Did Anubis get there ahead of us?”
Daniel focused, listening, trying to find a reason to expect the nameless man would let him through the iris – he clamped his teeth painfully over his lip at the ease of memory – the metal shield that could bring his journey to a quick stop against its impenetrable surface. Others had been shut out by it before. Those unwanted, who hadn’t earned their place, labeled enemies. Daniel screwed up his eyes, headache throbbing. He needed to remember enough to get beyond the suspicion and irritation, to cover the distance from anger to acceptance. Harsh words rang in his ears, and then, later, softer, compassionate ones.
... "a good friend of mine is lost" ... "yes, he's a very good friend" ...
Perhaps this name – Anubis – that caused such distress. He’d heard it before. Jack had described him as an ‘over-the-top cliché bad guy’ but other sights, other words played across Daniel’s memories. Anubis. Anpu. Jackal-headed, Old Kingdom god of the underworld. Ruler of the bows. Weigher of hearts. He breathed in the sweet incense, the herbs and unguents of preparation.
… the chill desert wind scoured his flesh … “Grant me a place in your blessed dwelling” … the slender figure wrapped in white linen bands. … “If my heart weighs more than a feather my soul still contains sin, if not, may my soul join the gods.” … The scale of judgment, poised to accept or reject the sundered soul …accept or reject …
“No, sir. No sign of the Goa’uld here.” Jack turned towards him and frowned. “Hey,” he called, the word suddenly gentle, the older man’s expression kind in the face of what must be Daniel’s palpable dread. “It’s okay,” he urged, cocking his head towards the device and reaching out one arm in invitation. “C’mon over and say a few words to the boys back home.”
What could he say? What would allow him entrance to the place that must hold his memories?
Samantha grinned, nodding. Teal’c steered him with a large hand on his back. Daniel felt Jack’s light grip on the back of his neck as he guided him into position.
Still, he groped for the right words, the code, the set of syllables that held the key. “I don’t know … what should I …”
He heard a gasp, the clatter of metal against metal, a jumble of raised voices, the scrape of chairs and booted feet. And then silence.
“Doctor Jackson? Son?”
Daniel breathed, tears in his eyes. Perhaps, somehow, his heart was light.
Author:
marzipan77Fandom: SG-1
Pairing: None
Rated: T+ for language and memories of violence
Summary: A series of fics beginning at Daniel’s descent back to Earth from the Ascended Plane. Chapter by chapter, these fics, about 1000 words each, beginning with “A”, will explore Daniel’s attempt to regain his memories, his mortal existence, and his place within the SGC and on SG-1.
Warnings: Angst/Emotional Whump/Memories of Death
Disclaimer: I don’t own Stargate, or Jack, or Daniel, or anything but my cats.
Written for the Alphabet Challenge on the Stargate Drabbles List.
Summary: Is Daniel going home?
The clanking sound drew Daniel’s gaze to the Stargate. A moment later a strange, gangly device lurched through the puddle of suspended sky and the familiar, tinny voice issued from its thin neck.
“Colonel O’Neill, report.”
More than impatient now, somehow Daniel knew that that tone meant apprehension, concern; the powerful man who stood behind a sheet of glass on a world one step and a million miles away was worried. He frowned, pain pounding behind his eyes as he watched Jack move quickly to stand before the camera – the camera that would send a video signal back to the other man.
THAT he remembered. He remembered that a video or audio signal could preserve a voice or an image through the warping tunnel in space that connected one world to another, but not the names of his friends. What if he never remembered? What if those flashes of pain, the momentary snatches of connection were all he’d ever have, and these people who now crowded around him, herding him towards Jack and the Stargate – what if they only received back these tattered remnants of Daniel Jackson’s life? How could that be enough? He stumbled and tried to focus on taking one breath, and then another.
It wasn’t the teasing lightness that Jack meant them all to hear that echoed within Daniel’s aching mind. Something else colored the soldier’s easy tone, something darker and more desperate. “Well, General, we’d like your permission to bring along a hitchhiker.”
Permission? The winter wind raised bumps along Daniel’s skin.
… “You’re in no position to make demands, Jackson.” …
Panic caught at him. The man at the other end of the wormhole, the powerful man, could make Daniel’s exile on this planet permanent.
“Care to explain, Colonel?”
One hand snatched off the brown cap and brushed through the short silver hair. “Turns out the nice people here got a visitor about two months ago-”
“- closer to three by Earth measurements, sir,” Samantha hurriedly corrected from her position on Daniel’s left.
Daniel glimpsed narrowed brown eyes turn to her for a moment, but the interplay brushed past him, unimportant. No. He couldn’t – not now. Just one day ago Daniel would have fought to stay, to shelter in his tent cloaked in the reassuring loneliness of disconnection. But now – his gaze flickered from face to face, a wail of protest rising to a piercing screech within him, and, shaking, he grasped at the thick forearm of the Jaffa. This voice of power may choose to reject him as thoroughly as those ‘Ascended Beings’ had.
Was that his punishment for whatever dark deeds had led his conscience to accept this overwhelming feeling of utter failure? To be alone – abandoned by those he’d known as Daniel Jackson, whether in life or in whatever afterlife he’d been granted?
“As I was saying,” Jack continued his explanation. “About two months ago they discovered a stranger along one of their footpaths – didn’t know who he was. He first appeared in a bright flash of light.”
“It’s okay, Doctor Jackson.” Daniel jerked his attention to the young man in green who whispered nearby, one hand briefly resting on Daniel’s wrist where his fingers were clenched in the fabric of Teal’c’s sleeve. The man smiled and gestured. “This is just a machine we use to talk-”
“I know,” Daniel interrupted impatiently. He tightened his grip, unwilling to lose what tentative connection he might have to these people.
“ – but you – ”
“Jonas Quinn.” The deep voice of the Jaffa silenced the young man and Daniel raised panicked eyes to calm brown ones. “Daniel Jackson will be fine.”
Fine. He would be fine. It sounded like a promise. Daniel felt the fear loosen its grip and turned back to watch Jack’s side of the conversation. They hadn’t wanted to leave him with Shamda and the villagers, he reminded himself. They’d seemed anxious to convince Daniel to leave, to ‘go home.’
“Goa’uld?” The disembodied voice was angry, sharp, demanding answers. “Did Anubis get there ahead of us?”
Daniel focused, listening, trying to find a reason to expect the nameless man would let him through the iris – he clamped his teeth painfully over his lip at the ease of memory – the metal shield that could bring his journey to a quick stop against its impenetrable surface. Others had been shut out by it before. Those unwanted, who hadn’t earned their place, labeled enemies. Daniel screwed up his eyes, headache throbbing. He needed to remember enough to get beyond the suspicion and irritation, to cover the distance from anger to acceptance. Harsh words rang in his ears, and then, later, softer, compassionate ones.
... "a good friend of mine is lost" ... "yes, he's a very good friend" ...
Perhaps this name – Anubis – that caused such distress. He’d heard it before. Jack had described him as an ‘over-the-top cliché bad guy’ but other sights, other words played across Daniel’s memories. Anubis. Anpu. Jackal-headed, Old Kingdom god of the underworld. Ruler of the bows. Weigher of hearts. He breathed in the sweet incense, the herbs and unguents of preparation.
… the chill desert wind scoured his flesh … “Grant me a place in your blessed dwelling” … the slender figure wrapped in white linen bands. … “If my heart weighs more than a feather my soul still contains sin, if not, may my soul join the gods.” … The scale of judgment, poised to accept or reject the sundered soul …accept or reject …
“No, sir. No sign of the Goa’uld here.” Jack turned towards him and frowned. “Hey,” he called, the word suddenly gentle, the older man’s expression kind in the face of what must be Daniel’s palpable dread. “It’s okay,” he urged, cocking his head towards the device and reaching out one arm in invitation. “C’mon over and say a few words to the boys back home.”
What could he say? What would allow him entrance to the place that must hold his memories?
Samantha grinned, nodding. Teal’c steered him with a large hand on his back. Daniel felt Jack’s light grip on the back of his neck as he guided him into position.
Still, he groped for the right words, the code, the set of syllables that held the key. “I don’t know … what should I …”
He heard a gasp, the clatter of metal against metal, a jumble of raised voices, the scrape of chairs and booted feet. And then silence.
“Doctor Jackson? Son?”
Daniel breathed, tears in his eyes. Perhaps, somehow, his heart was light.
no subject
Date: 2014-08-23 08:44 am (UTC)He was judged pure in my eyes.
Okay, so maybe not pure but definitely worthy.
(I do love Teal'c's "Daniel Jackson will be fine." response. May have done a back flip, cartwheel, punched the air hehe)
no subject
Date: 2014-08-23 12:42 pm (UTC)