Rating: PG-13

Spoilers:  Vague 4th season up to "Beneath the Surface"

Disclaimer:  The characters and situations contained within are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Notes:  Inspired by wonderful discussions regarding "the demise of Stargate".

I miss you.

There.  I said it.  Doesn't bring much relief, though, it's not like I'm actually saying it to your face.  I'm just standing here
looking into a fogged mirror, talking to you in my head because it's the only way I can lately.

I'm so tired and I ache all over - the last mission was, well, exhausting is the best way to describe it - and I don't think I
have the energy to drive home tonight.  I'm drained, not just physically, but emotionally as well.

I miss you.

Wait, I said that already, didn't I?  It's true, though, and the worst thing is you don't notice.  I don't think you'll ever notice,
not with the way things are going.

It feels like I've been dumped.  I know we were never dating or anything like that but we had a relationship that was kind of
special.  To be honest, for a long time there you were my only friend: the one person who knew me and certainly the only one who bothered to look out for me.  I can still remember your smile from the early days, a mixture of exasperation and affection.  You had a way of making me feel wanted in the SG program even when no one else did.

I guess that's why I feel so lost now.  You and Sam, you're so wrapped up in your little world that you don't notice anyone else.  Which leaves me kind of stranded.

Oh, I know there's Teal'c, but I don't think he's ever going to be best friend material.  I respect him and I would do almost anything for him, but he has a warrior mentality that only you understand.  He's not the type to sit back and relax and I certainly can't see myself going fishing with Teal'c for a week.  I know he'd end up staring at the water thinking about the futility of the exercise: it would be written all over his face.  Not exactly relaxing, is it.

So...I can hear your response...what about Janet?  Sure, she's a friend, but it's a work friendship.  She's my doctor.  She knows more about my body than anyone else and that's a little unsettling, if you know what I mean.  Of course you do.  Even though we're worlds apart there are some things we see eye-to-eye on, the things that really matter.

Well, we used to anyway.  Now it seems like you'd be quite happy to watch me accidentally get killed so I won't be in your way anymore.  Or better still, blow me up yourself to save others who are far more important.  Of course they're more important even if you hardly know them.  Everyone's more important than me lately.  To be honest, I haven't felt this insecure in years, knowing that you'd easily leave me behind if the mission demanded it.

Less guilt, is that what it's about, Jack?  God knows you're probably feeling worried enough already about the inappropriateness of your relationship with Sam.  Or maybe you haven't even noticed.  Everyone sees it, Jack, the way you two have looked at each other for a while now and part of me is happy for you, but I just wish...I just wish....

I know she's your new best friend.  I know you don't need me anymore.  But it would be nice if you'd just notice me once in a
while.  Say hi, maybe spend some time off base together like we used to.  Because the only attention I seem to get lately is when you want to disagree with me and to be honest, they seem like the most inane reasons to fight.

Do you like fighting, Jack?  Is it your way of distancing yourself from me?  Or maybe it's just to keep me and Teal'c far away from you and your new best friend.

I'm sorry.  I'm being cruel to Sam - I mean, she was one of my closest friends until lately when she got wrapped up in you.  At
least she still speaks to me civilly instead of barking orders at me.  God, Jack, what is with you lately?

I wish you'd talk to me.  Maybe we can fix up this thing we used to have, this thing called friendship, when I was a person instead of an annoying member of your team.  Then again, maybe you're just not interested and I think that knowledge hurts most of all.

I lean forward and trace a sad face in the steamed mirror.  It's a little melodramatic, I know, but I can't keep everything bottled up and maybe all you need is one little hint.  As if on cue, you walk in.

"Daniel," you nod, and then continue straight past.  You didn't even notice.  There was a time when you would instantly know when something was wrong and drag it out of me.  I remember the time after Sha're died and you let me lean on your shoulder, me trying not to cry while you told me it was okay.  You cared, Jack, but I don't think you do anymore.

Now you dash back past again and there's a smile on your face and I just know you're going to see Sam.  Go, Jack.  Have fun.

Not much else to say, is there, except for goodbye.

---
End.

Jack raced through the corridors of the SGC, his heart hammering furiously.  Behind him he could hear Sam calling his name, telling him to wait, but he wasn't listening, nothing would stop him.  He tugged off his tie as he raced - it had been a stupid idea anyway, even if Sam had smiled when she saw him so dressed up - and didn't miss a stride.

He roughly pushed aside a wandering airman, not pausing to mutter an apology.  He had to get to the infirmary, he had to see for himself, he had to find out if Daniel was okay because he refused to believe that it could be as bad as they said it was, even though his gut reaction told him otherwise.  Jack could hear his own harsh breathing indicative of how long he'd been sprinting, but it was nothing compared to the pure terror and horror running through his body, coupled with the absolute denial that it couldn't be true.

The infirmary was eons away, he was never going to get there.  Part of him was absolutely petrified of what he would find.  The rest of him was consumed with guilt.  Terrible guilt, because it was his fault.

*

"Colonel?"  The phone call which interrupted his dinner date caused Jack to grimace and he cursed the cell phone for the hundredth time.  He hadn't wanted to accept it in the first place but, as someone, maybe it was Daniel?  Jack couldn't quite remember, had so patiently explained, it was necessary for so many classified reasons.

"Yes," he grunted into the phone, letting his annoyance come through in his abrupt greeting.

"There's been an accident."  And those four words, so unexpected, had caused Jack's entire world to change, because he knew, somehow, that it could only mean one thing.  Fragments of the explanation came through, the words interspersed with the static of his pounding heart and the incongruous noise of the restaurant.

"Dr. Jackson...stepped in front of a truck...deliberate...."

"No!" he shouted at the last word, denying the knowledge and not caring one bit when everyone turned to look at him.   "Daniel would never..."

"Jack?"  Sam was calling him Jack now, and that should have made him immensely happy, but this time he barely noticed.  "Jack, what's wrong?"

"We have to get back to base," he said, frantically pulling out some bills and throwing them on the table.   He didn't even give
Sam a chance to ask why before he was out the door and in his car, Sam following close behind.

*

Deliberate...deliberate...  The word echoed over and over in Jack's mind as he pounded against the elevator doors in frustration.  It couldn't be deliberate, not his Daniel.  Daniel would never do that.  Daniel had so much to live for....

And then Jack paused, both in his exertions and in his thoughts.  What did Daniel have to live for?  Sha're, his reason for becoming part of the Stargate program, was dead.  His scientific reputation was in tatters.  And his friends...his friends, or to be more accurate, his ex-best friend had tried to kill him recently and disagreed with him at every turn.

Jack couldn't even remember the last time he and Daniel had had a conversation.  Sure, they'd discussed mission necessities, or maybe even discuss wasn't the right word, it was more of Jack saying, "Daniel do this," and Daniel saying, "Okay," except for the occasions when he disagreed which was happening more and more frequently.

What had happened to their friendship?  Jack didn't know.  In his mind, one day it was there, the next day it wasn't, and Jack hadn't even noticed until now because he'd been too busy enjoying his new-found friendship with Sam and to hell with regulations.  He was allowed to have friends, right?  No one complained when he went out to dinner with Daniel or Teal'c, so why should Sam be any different?   That was Jack's story, anyway, and he didn't want to probe too closely at his real feelings because if he didn't know then it wasn't his problem.

Just like if he didn't know Daniel was depressed it wasn't his problem.  But that logic completely failed even as Jack tried to
cling to it, desperately seeking some excuse.  There was no excuse. Daniel used to be his friend and it was Jack who had so callously dumped him in favour of someone new.  Jack who had pushed Daniel as far away as possible.  Jack who had made sure that Daniel had nothing left in his life but  grief from an arrogant commander.

The doors finally opened and Jack stepped through, slowly, numbly.  The world seemed to be spinning around him and he barely noticed as Sam also slipped into the elevator before the doors closed.  She put a hand on his arm, an action which would have thrilled him only hours earlier, but now it was nothing more than a reminder of what he'd done.

"I'm sure he'll be okay," she said softly.  Jack just stared at her, wanting to shake off the contact but then he really looked
into Sam's eyes and saw the tears, an emotion he knew was reflected in his own face.  There was nothing he could say, because he was the one who had spoken to Hammond on the phone and he had heard the finality in the General's voice.

The precious seconds ticked by as the elevator descended, the countdown of floors flashing past Jack's eyes like a countdown to the end of Daniel's life.  It could well be.  Or maybe it was already too late.  He wanted to pace, to scream, to pound the
walls, but nothing would make it get there any faster and he needed all of his energy to run those final corridors below.

Again he left Sam far behind even though she was running too.  Jack was drenched with sweat by the time he reached the infirmary doors yet his entire insides were chilled, and even more so with the sight of the guard.  "Colonel O'Neill, I can't let you in there."

"Why the hell not?" he shouted back, throwing protocol to the wind.  "My friend is in there and I have to see him!"

"I'm sorry sir," and it was amazing that the guard kept his cool, "but Dr. Frasier is in the middle of a delicate operation and has
given me strict instructions that no one is to enter."

"Listen to him, O'Neill," said a new voice.  Teal'c.  Jack hadn't even noticed the Jaffa, so focussed on his goal had he been.

"I don't want to listen," Jack protested.  "I want to see Daniel!"

"That will not help."

Sam finally arrived, breathing just as heavily as Jack.  "What's going on?"

Jack leaned against the wall and sank to the ground, his head in his hands.  He understood why they weren't allowed in there - and it was a good sign, right?  If Daniel was dying then surely they'd let Jack in to say goodbye, so the fact that good old Doc Frasier was keeping them out meant that Daniel had a chance and the longer he stayed in the sterile environment, the better.  Right?  Right.  Jack kept telling himself that.

If he listened closely enough, there were sounds coming from the room - beeping, a voice snapping orders, machiines whirring.  They were small distraction and soon Jack found himself staring at the floor.  All was silent in the corridor as three friends kept vigil, waiting, waiting for the news that everything would be all right.

Seconds turned into minutes, and then an hour or two had passed with still no word from inside.  And as much as Jack hated to admit it, his bladder was giving him problems.  He slowly got to his feet.  "Call me the second something changes," he said, not
directing the order at any particular person.  "I'll just be..."  He nodded, indicating his direction, and then hurried down the
hall.

The bathroom was mercifully empty, and Jack was grateful for this because he didn't want to speak to anyone.  A glance at his watch showed it was much earlier than he'd thought - it seemed forever since the restaurant, forever since he'd left the Base, forever since he'd passed Daniel in this same bathroom....

The memory hit him in the gut, worse than a punch.  Daniel had been in here.  Staring at the mirror....  Jack slowly approached the position where Daniel had stood.  What had been going through Daniel's mind at that moment?  Jack had no idea.  He'd barely glanced at his friend, too busy thinking of the night ahead, then again, Daniel hadn't said anything either.  He'd just stood there, like...like what?  A wounded puppy?  Like someone who was hurting inside and didn't know how to ask for help?

The mirror had been fogged over and Jack suddenly found himself turning on the tap full blast, the hot water soon causing small
puffs of steam.  He did the same thing at the next two sinks, hoping to recreate the effect even though the showers weren't
running, and was soon rewarded with a frightening image.  Two eyes, a facsimile of a nose, and a down-turned mouth.  The fog figure looked so sad, it reminded him of Daniel, and in horror Jack realised that the evidence had been right there and he hadn't even noticed.  Daniel had been crying for help.  Some friend Jack was.

He didn't know how long he stood there, staring.  There were no tears this time, just the quiet sensation of constant bile in his
throat as he fought to keep his stomach contents in place.  He watched the image fade as the steam dispersed, drifting away into nothingness, just like Daniel, perhaps.  By the time Sam came to find him it was completely gone.

"Sir?"  The voice was frighteningly hesitant and formal.  Jack slowly turned.

"He did it, Sam," and there was no emotion in Jack's words, just the terrible statement of truth.

She stifled a sob.  "You can't know that.  Maybe he was tired, anyone can slip...all it takes is one second of not paying
attention and then you don't get a second chance."  She paused, straightening her shoulders, one hand coming out to brace against the doorframe for strength.  "Sir -"

This time, the way she said it, Jack knew but he refused to listen to her.  He pushed past and bolted back towards the
infirmary.

The guard, and Teal'c, were gone.  The door was open.   Inside, medical staff were lined up against each wall, almost like a
vanguard, with Frasier at the head of the formation.  Beyond that was a bed, with a frail figure upon it.  Daniel.

Jack took a step forward, and another, roughly throwing aside the doctor's comforting touch as he approached.  Blood, there was so much blood, but that wasn't what drew his attention.  No, it was Daniel's face to which his eyes were drawn.

The blue eyes were closed, the lashes starkly visible on the white cheeks.  Jack took the last few steps forward until he was finally at his friend's side.  He lifted Daniel's hand but the fingers were lax, uncommunicative.  The vibrancy was gone.  The laughter and the seriousness and the thousand other emotions that made up the archaeologist - and friend - were gone.  Daniel was gone.

"I'm so sorry," Jack whispered, bringing the hand to his lips as his tears began to fall.  "Danny, I am so, so sorry."  His knees
gave out and he found himself sitting on the side of the bed, not caring about the mess, not caring about anything anymore.  "So
sorry."  He must have whispered it a thousand times, knowing he could never apologise enough.  With each litany he hoped for a response, a forgiveness, perhaps, or even an acknowledgement, but the eyes remained closed.  They weren't even decorated with the glasses, and widening his vision a little, Jack could see the smashed frames haphazardly placed on a nearby table.

He touched Daniel's cheek, shivering as he realised it was already cold.  This wasn't possible, this whole night, it was wrong,
damnit, it was wrong!  Daniel couldn't be dead, any moment now he would open his eyes and blink sleepily, asking Jack why he was crying.

"Because I love you," Jack would answer, and then Daniel would blush with embarrassment but squeeze his hand at the same time.  Then Daniel would tell him that it had been an accident, nothing more, because Dr. Daniel Jackson certainly wasn't suicidal no matter how bad things were.  And then everything would be like it used to be, or even better, because now he knew how lonely Daniel was feeling and how much of a bastard he'd been and he could do something to fix it.

But that wasn't going to happen now.  It was too late.

"Colonel?"  There was a soft voice in his ear, a hand on his shoulder, someone pulling him away from Daniel.

"No," he protested.

"Sir - Janet has to...she has to...."  Sam's voice broke but Jack understood.

"You were right," Jack said softly, not letting go just yet.  He had to finish this in front of Daniel, so that somehow, Daniel
would know.  "It was an accident.  He wasn't paying attention - Sam, you know what he gets like when thhere's a lot on his mind.  He wanders down the wrong corridor, wanders into doors, even in front of a truck."  He paused, needing support for his words.  "It wasn't suicide, right, Daniel?"

"That's what the official report will say," Janet said softly, approaching from the other side.  Teal'c was right beside her.
Jack watched, numb, as Teal'c performed some kind of ritual goodbye, and Sam managed to choke out words of farewell.  It  was time to go.

One final squeeze of the hand, one final parting.  Jack took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.  "Daniel...."  But neither
a military speech nor more apologies were appropriate.  He settled for a single word.  "Bye."

And then he turned and he walked away.

---
End.

I was angry with the writers of SG when I wrote this.  The recent (Season 4) characterisation and team interaction
has been disappointing and if you take it to extremes, you can justify that the growing relationship between Jack and
Sam as cause of the growing rift between Jack and Daniel.

So by default, I was also angry at Jack and Sam.  I retaliated in the only way I could - to hurt them through fan fiction.  I'm sorry. I had to kill Daniel and make them all feel bad, I had to make them PAY for hurting darling Danny.  And pay they did.  Kind of.

This story was supposed to be 3 parts, part 3 revealing that it was just an accident, but to do that, Daniel would have to be alive.  But my fingers/mind story didn't let him live.  He died and so did part 3.

And now this nasty little story is out and I should feel better, but to be honest, I don't.   And that's my story.
 

Feel free to share your thoughts: stardestiny@bigfoot.com

Back to Stargate Fan Fiction