marzipan77 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
marzipan77) wrote2011-10-18 03:47 pm
marzipan77) wrote2011-10-18 03:47 pm
Entry tags:
"Renaissance: S is for Strength"
“Title: “Renaissance: S is for Strength”
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: Daniel needs the strength of another to help him along the road.
“She’s dead.” Daniel had known it all along, with an understanding deeper than memory and vaster than the grief that held him tight. A grief that was echoed in the dark eyes of the alien warrior before him, the man he’d sought out within the dim tunnels, whom he’d found at the end of his stumbling search. “I loved her very much.” The realization slid through his heart like an icy spear.
The candlelight glistened as the bald head bowed, weighed by far more than the sympathy of one friend to another. Daniel frowned, the ache within him suddenly growing to encompass more than just his own soul.
The pain beneath the hard-won control on Jack’s face, the longing in the intense blue eyes of Samantha Carter, the general’s hope and the doctor’s joy – Daniel’s need to recapture his past could no longer be the cautious personal journey of one man groping through the darkness. He needed more – they all deserved more.
He turned the photograph face down and placed it carefully on the table, out of sight but still seared indelibly into his mind’s eye. Frustration shook him as the scenes and memories slipped away, hiding again within him. Why? Why would this Oma, this Ascended being, choose to punish him like this? To bury every thought, every action, beneath a heavy coverstone of emptiness?
The other man answered, hesitantly, as if afraid to speak, and Daniel watched the growing unease on his broad face.
“Tell me about Anubis.” The name tasted hot and bitter, laced with a sense of grief so raw it ate at Daniel’s soul. “Why’d I break the rules to fight him?” Daniel was filled with so many ‘whys’ as well as the absolute conviction that it was this solid, silent warrior who could help him back to himself.
Teal’c leaned back, distancing himself from the question. “Do you not believe it wise to remember on your own accord?”
Daniel clenched his teeth. Please. No more stumbling blindly, searching for any hint, any trace of memory. Jack had locked him away, Sam had demanded, pushed. And the others couldn’t seem to see him past their own emotions. “No. I need to know why this is happening to me.”
Uncertainty warred with compassion in the warm dark eyes.
“Please, Teal’c.” Daniel would beg, he’d plead, even in the face of what he knew was the Jaffa’s legendary, mountainous resolve.
… the grimace pulled down the expressive mouth, smears of paint decorating his face and body as if his guilt was printed in every line … the staff weapon heavy in Daniel’s hands, he’d watched the honest acceptance – the forgiveness – written in Teal’c’s bearing as he stared at him through the thin passageway of Thor’s Hammer … the fierce pride as Teal’c stumbled – finally – from the unstable event horizon clutching a massive weapon and his own accomplished revenge …
“Daniel Jackson – others believe it would be harmful to force you to remember your human life,” the large hands tightened and released against his knees, “and I would gladly die myself rather than bring you any more harm.”
Daniel carefully lowered himself to sit within the flickering forest of candle flames, drawing his spine up straight, settling his hands on his knees, and breathing in the calm that expanded around the warrior’s being. “I believe that, Teal’c.”
One eyebrow rode the fragrant smoke upwards. “Perhaps you should not.”
… the stench of fear and despair nearly overwhelmed him, his eyes focused on the armored figure grasping Jack’s wrist … “The moment the child is born, the Goa’uld within Sha’re will re-emerge” … “I said I’m not leaving her, Teal’c!” … blinding pain between his eyes … scorched human flesh … the golden glow of possession receding to leave his wife’s dead eyes staring up at him …
Loss. Anger. Bottomless grief. Blame. From the stark regret on Teal’c’s face Daniel saw that his emotions were scrawled in every line and muscle, his throat tight, breathing loud in the silence between them. His vision narrowed to see only the pinpoints of flame reflected in the Jaffa’s accepting stare.
… “you must continue your journey through the Chappa’ai, and you must forgive Teal’c” … slender arms wrapped him in love and small hands brushed the hair from his forehead … “You must hear me, my Danyel” … a bolt of energy took her from him forever … “you must forgive Teal’c” …
She was dead – buried beneath the sands of her homeland – soul as light as a feather. She was finally free.
… “you must forgive Teal’c” …
Daniel felt the wetness on his cheeks, heard the gasping sobs that shook him, let the grief pour out through every nerve and pore. He blinked to clear his sight, head back, twisting right and left, the pain that wrapped him in misery and failure slowly unwinding, falling away. Vision finally clear in the candlelight, he could see matching stains on the other’s face where he knelt before him.
“You did the right thing, Teal’c.” A younger, stronger voice seemed to join his and the Jaffa’s head bowed for a long, long time.
They talked quietly until morning and Daniel’s memories began to take form and substance even as the candles melted to indistinct shapes and lumps and the air grew heavy with smoke. Laughter joined with grief as Teal’c told the story of an innocent, young scholar and an embittered warrior/slave who had been caught up in a friendship unlooked for. Daniel remembered the comfort of his friend’s presence and carefully filed the fleeting thoughts and bright, vibrant scenes away with his other few memories.
Jack and Sam and Teal’c. A hardened Air Force colonel, twice retired. A brilliant, ambitious scientist. A rebel alien bearing a form of the enemy in his body. And him – Daniel Jackson – a stubborn linguist who’d solved a two thousand year old puzzle. SG-1. It must have been quite a team. Warmth seemed to suffuse every unfilled space within him.
A quick knock at the door quieted them as Teal’c snuffed out the last flame. The pale, eager face that poked into the room startled, eyes wide, at the sight of Daniel stretched out on the floor.
“Jonas Quinn.” Teal’c’s voice held no censure, just a small measure of encouragement.
“Uh … sorry to interrupt.”
Daniel felt a few more memories shift into place. A passing sense of futility. A brief splash of regret. He pushed to his feet.
“It’s okay,” he replied softly, nodding. Things had changed. Some losses were permanent.
“It’s just – well, there’s a briefing in about an hour and I wanted … uh …” The young man’s gaze darted towards Teal’c, “I mean, for me and the colonel, and …”
Daniel smiled. “For SG-1.”
Teal’c’s broad hand lay gently on his shoulder. “Daniel Jackson.”
Some losses were permanent. But, Daniel realized, looking up into his friend’s strong gaze, some were not.
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: Daniel needs the strength of another to help him along the road.
“She’s dead.” Daniel had known it all along, with an understanding deeper than memory and vaster than the grief that held him tight. A grief that was echoed in the dark eyes of the alien warrior before him, the man he’d sought out within the dim tunnels, whom he’d found at the end of his stumbling search. “I loved her very much.” The realization slid through his heart like an icy spear.
The candlelight glistened as the bald head bowed, weighed by far more than the sympathy of one friend to another. Daniel frowned, the ache within him suddenly growing to encompass more than just his own soul.
The pain beneath the hard-won control on Jack’s face, the longing in the intense blue eyes of Samantha Carter, the general’s hope and the doctor’s joy – Daniel’s need to recapture his past could no longer be the cautious personal journey of one man groping through the darkness. He needed more – they all deserved more.
He turned the photograph face down and placed it carefully on the table, out of sight but still seared indelibly into his mind’s eye. Frustration shook him as the scenes and memories slipped away, hiding again within him. Why? Why would this Oma, this Ascended being, choose to punish him like this? To bury every thought, every action, beneath a heavy coverstone of emptiness?
The other man answered, hesitantly, as if afraid to speak, and Daniel watched the growing unease on his broad face.
“Tell me about Anubis.” The name tasted hot and bitter, laced with a sense of grief so raw it ate at Daniel’s soul. “Why’d I break the rules to fight him?” Daniel was filled with so many ‘whys’ as well as the absolute conviction that it was this solid, silent warrior who could help him back to himself.
Teal’c leaned back, distancing himself from the question. “Do you not believe it wise to remember on your own accord?”
Daniel clenched his teeth. Please. No more stumbling blindly, searching for any hint, any trace of memory. Jack had locked him away, Sam had demanded, pushed. And the others couldn’t seem to see him past their own emotions. “No. I need to know why this is happening to me.”
Uncertainty warred with compassion in the warm dark eyes.
“Please, Teal’c.” Daniel would beg, he’d plead, even in the face of what he knew was the Jaffa’s legendary, mountainous resolve.
… the grimace pulled down the expressive mouth, smears of paint decorating his face and body as if his guilt was printed in every line … the staff weapon heavy in Daniel’s hands, he’d watched the honest acceptance – the forgiveness – written in Teal’c’s bearing as he stared at him through the thin passageway of Thor’s Hammer … the fierce pride as Teal’c stumbled – finally – from the unstable event horizon clutching a massive weapon and his own accomplished revenge …
“Daniel Jackson – others believe it would be harmful to force you to remember your human life,” the large hands tightened and released against his knees, “and I would gladly die myself rather than bring you any more harm.”
Daniel carefully lowered himself to sit within the flickering forest of candle flames, drawing his spine up straight, settling his hands on his knees, and breathing in the calm that expanded around the warrior’s being. “I believe that, Teal’c.”
One eyebrow rode the fragrant smoke upwards. “Perhaps you should not.”
… the stench of fear and despair nearly overwhelmed him, his eyes focused on the armored figure grasping Jack’s wrist … “The moment the child is born, the Goa’uld within Sha’re will re-emerge” … “I said I’m not leaving her, Teal’c!” … blinding pain between his eyes … scorched human flesh … the golden glow of possession receding to leave his wife’s dead eyes staring up at him …
Loss. Anger. Bottomless grief. Blame. From the stark regret on Teal’c’s face Daniel saw that his emotions were scrawled in every line and muscle, his throat tight, breathing loud in the silence between them. His vision narrowed to see only the pinpoints of flame reflected in the Jaffa’s accepting stare.
… “you must continue your journey through the Chappa’ai, and you must forgive Teal’c” … slender arms wrapped him in love and small hands brushed the hair from his forehead … “You must hear me, my Danyel” … a bolt of energy took her from him forever … “you must forgive Teal’c” …
She was dead – buried beneath the sands of her homeland – soul as light as a feather. She was finally free.
… “you must forgive Teal’c” …
Daniel felt the wetness on his cheeks, heard the gasping sobs that shook him, let the grief pour out through every nerve and pore. He blinked to clear his sight, head back, twisting right and left, the pain that wrapped him in misery and failure slowly unwinding, falling away. Vision finally clear in the candlelight, he could see matching stains on the other’s face where he knelt before him.
“You did the right thing, Teal’c.” A younger, stronger voice seemed to join his and the Jaffa’s head bowed for a long, long time.
They talked quietly until morning and Daniel’s memories began to take form and substance even as the candles melted to indistinct shapes and lumps and the air grew heavy with smoke. Laughter joined with grief as Teal’c told the story of an innocent, young scholar and an embittered warrior/slave who had been caught up in a friendship unlooked for. Daniel remembered the comfort of his friend’s presence and carefully filed the fleeting thoughts and bright, vibrant scenes away with his other few memories.
Jack and Sam and Teal’c. A hardened Air Force colonel, twice retired. A brilliant, ambitious scientist. A rebel alien bearing a form of the enemy in his body. And him – Daniel Jackson – a stubborn linguist who’d solved a two thousand year old puzzle. SG-1. It must have been quite a team. Warmth seemed to suffuse every unfilled space within him.
A quick knock at the door quieted them as Teal’c snuffed out the last flame. The pale, eager face that poked into the room startled, eyes wide, at the sight of Daniel stretched out on the floor.
“Jonas Quinn.” Teal’c’s voice held no censure, just a small measure of encouragement.
“Uh … sorry to interrupt.”
Daniel felt a few more memories shift into place. A passing sense of futility. A brief splash of regret. He pushed to his feet.
“It’s okay,” he replied softly, nodding. Things had changed. Some losses were permanent.
“It’s just – well, there’s a briefing in about an hour and I wanted … uh …” The young man’s gaze darted towards Teal’c, “I mean, for me and the colonel, and …”
Daniel smiled. “For SG-1.”
Teal’c’s broad hand lay gently on his shoulder. “Daniel Jackson.”
Some losses were permanent. But, Daniel realized, looking up into his friend’s strong gaze, some were not.