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The sun was directly overhead … it's heat intense in the midsummer afternoon. Although there was a breeze coming in off the bay near the excavation, it provided little relief, only adding to the humidity of the day. Sweat rolled down Daniel's forehead, past the twisted bandana and into his eyes, causing them to sting with the salt. He stood up from his crouch and looked around. The hills and desert sand stretched for miles. The excavations were proceeding nicely. It felt good to be in the field again.
// Not as good as some of the sites we found with the Gate… // He caught his mind beginning to follow that old familiar path and wrenched his thoughts away from it.
// I'm not there anymore. // He sighed. // My life is here now. Thank God Catherine had enough friends and influence to find me a spot on a grant site. Gonna need to rebuild my reputation to find a spot with tenure somewhere. //
"Dr. Jackson! Dr. Jackson!" He turned toward the voice. "Ah…. Dr. Jackson … come see what we've just uncovered. It's fascinating!"
// Ya' … right… If it isn't written in Goa'uld, it isn't all that interesting… // "I'll be right there, Joseph." he told the dig assistant as he turned to follow the agitated young man toward his most recent find.
// Probably another old potsherd. // He sighed again. // They're not exciting unless you're watching the pots being made by living hands right in front of you. //
This was the end of his fourth week on this site in Southern Turkey and he still had yet to recapture the fire … the excitement … that was his when he was in the middle of what he loved: archeology in the field. Leave the Ivory Towers to others. All he wanted was to feel the dirt of ancient civilizations trickling through his fingers. To uncover artifacts that hadn't seen the light of day since they were first constructed thousands of years ago.
// 'Find any old rocks to dig up, Danny Boy?' 'Artifacts, Jack. They're called artifacts!' // The sound of O'Neill's voice slipped in the edge of his consciousness before he could stop it. The voice of comfortable banter echoing in his memory.
The voice of the reason he had left SGC.
"Dr. Jackson? Are you coming?".
// Stuff a sock in it, Joe! // "Yes, Joseph, I'll be there in a moment. If it's waited all this time to be dug up… it'll wait a bit longer."
Jack O'Neill. Commanding Officer of SG-1. Daniel's best friend and the reason he'd left everyone he was close to along with his greatest professional challenge behind. The man he cared for more than his own life.
God, it hurt! The day he told them all in front of General Hammond that he had a chance to do some original field work that could shed new light on the System Lords and the Stargate. That he was taking - how did he put it? - an 'extended leave of absence' to work this other project.
Jack had looked everywhere but his face… couldn't bring himself to meet Daniel's eyes. O'Neill knew what it meant. He'd known Daniel would never return to the project; he also knew that he was somehow at fault. But he never knew why. He'd spent almost the entire night before trying to talk Daniel into staying. Promising not to insult him any more. No more sappy nicknames. No more arguments about Jackson's ideas or opinions on a mission. In short… Jack practically promised to give Daniel carte blanche over the scientific end of the missions if he wouldn't leave the team.
Every single reason O'Neill could think of, he offered the blue-eyed anthropologist except the one that Daniel needed. That he would be able to accept Daniel's feelings for him without disgust or repugnance, whether he ever felt those same feelings in return or not. That he would accept that Daniel loved him as more than a friend. And that was something Daniel couldn't ask of him.
It had to come from the heart. Jack's heart.
"Dr. Jackson!"
He groaned. // I am going to kill that kid! //
"Dr. Jackson, there are some men here to see you." Daniel stopped his walk and looked up. "They're from the military."
// The military? Something's not right here. // Uneasiness grabbed him.
Jackson turned and started off toward the tents that acted as headquarters, storage and what all for the excavation site. As he grew closer, he saw the standard government sedan parked beside the tents, it's dark finish repainted a tan-gray with dust. Beside it were three men in Air Force blue talking with the leader of the dig. Daniel picked up his pace.
As he rounded the edge of camp to where the sedan was parked, the uniform details of the men standing there became clearer. One was enlisted. // Driver // he tagged him. The other two were officers: a Captain and a Major. And on the Major's jacket lapels were small, gold crosses. The emblem of a military chaplain.
// Oh no. God, no! // He covered the last few yards at a run. Dr. Ansbagh heard his footsteps and looked over his shoulder to confirm that it was Daniel.
"Gentlemen, this is Dr. Jackson." He turned to Daniel, looking at him quizzically. Why the military would be interested in one of his team personal, he had no idea. "Daniel, these men want to speak with you for a moment." Nodding his head to the four of them, the team leader left them alone.
"Are you Dr. Daniel Melburn Jackson?" the Captain asked. Daniel found ll he could do was shakily nod his head. "I'm Captain MacFarland and this is Major Arnold." MacFarland cleared his throat and continued. "Dr. Jackson, I regret to inform you that Colonel Jonathan O'Neill died in the line of duty on June 15th of this year while in the service of his country."
Daniel was sure that the Captain had said more, but he couldn't make himself understand the words. // 'Line of duty'. 'Service of his country'. Those were the phrases Jack used when writing to Kawalsky's family after his death. //
He was peripherally aware of fingers clasping his elbows: of a chair being placed behind him and being guided to sit. Of someone placing their hand on his shoulder while he buried his face in his callused hands trying to hold back the tears. Of being touched the way that Jack would touch him ... would he had he been there ...
It was several moments before he could bring himself to raise his eyes. "How did it happen?"
Major Arnold was the one who spoke. "We don't know, Dr. Jackson. We weren't informed. Only that it happened while he was on active duty ... on assignment." His hand still lay on Daniel's shoulder. "I'm very sorry."
"Jack wouldn't have been sorry." Daniel whispered. "He would have done anything for his country. He is such ... ' his voice caught in his throat ' ... was such an incredible solder. An incredible man." He forced himself to swallow past the dry knot in his throat.
"He was my best friend."
"He must have felt close to you." The Major commented. "You were the only person listed in his will. His personal effects are to be turned over to you" Arnold reached into the folder he was carrying and removed an object. "This was in his personal effects packet.” The Major handed a crisp, white envelope to Daniel.
Jackson cupped it in his hands, deathly afraid to open it. It was the only link he had left to Jack and he found himself afraid of what he might find in it. But it had come from Jack's own hands and that in itself made it precious. He forced his trembling fingers to open the envelope. The letter itself was one page, single-spaced.
"Danny, if you are reading this, you know that I'm not around anymore.
I'm sorry I'm dumping my stuff on you, but you're the only person I'm
comfortable with going through my things. Maybe it's to make up for
going through your apartment after we had our heads messed around with
by Nem. If you just want to dump the whole place in storage, that's
okay, too. Don't deal with it if you aren't comfortable with it.
There's a couple of things I need to tell you and I should have said them a long ago, but I was afraid of making a real jack-ass of myself. Now that I'm not around, that's not a problem. I wish I knew if what I'm gonna say will make you think of me as some kind of perv, but none of that really matters any more, does it? Except to you, I mean. There it matters a lot.
I have to tell you, Danny, how honored I was to have served with you. You were my best friend. And how, maybe if the world had been a bit different, I would have found the courage to tell you how much I cared about you. Really cared. Maybe if I had, you wouldn't have left the project. Maybe I was pushing you away and didn't even realize it. I don't know. All I know is I'm sorry I never told you sooner.
The only thing that will ever really matter is: I love you, Daniel Jackson. I have for a long time and I will still be loving you as you read this letter. When you look up at the night sky, remember… I'll be one of the stars looking back at you. Watching out for you so you'll never be alone.
Take care of yourself for me.
Jack"
He read the letter through. Twice. Then slowly refolded it, gently
replacing it in it's pristine envelope and slid it into the top left
pocket of his khaki shirt.
"Ah … Dr. Jackson, there are a few more formalities we need to finish. Some forms and the like." Captain MacFarland gestured toward the inside of the tent in front of them. "Perhaps we could find a place to sit and get them out of the way?"
Nodding absently, Daniel led the three men in under cover from the sun looking for a table and chairs.
By early afternoon everyone in camp knew that something horrible had happened to Dr. Jackson. A soul torn empty man had replaced the usually gregarious young archeologist. So they left him to his own: leaning against a pile of rocks overlooking the desert: staring off to the horizon; watching the sun go down, feeling it's warmth gradually leave the land.
Daniel felt the desert chill making it's way through his shirt as he stared at the midnight heavens above. The reality of Jack's death was still incomprehensible. He imagined it would be for a long, long time. The only thing that compared with the vastness of the cold empty desert was the deep, frozen hole where his heart used to be.
He leaned back to stare at the night sky. The velvet blackness was
studded with fires of every color. He remembered a quote he'd heard
somewhere. "Oh God, your sea is so great and my boat is so small."
Such a vast sea and he had been a part of it and it's exploration.
He and Jack. He gripped his legs tighter to his chest, resting his
head on his knees.
// Why didn't I say something to you, Jack? Why did I run? And why did
you let me? // His hands clinched, crumpling the now tattered envelope. //
God, Jack! Why didn't you tell me? Damn it, you Son of a Bitch!
Why didn't you tell me!! //
As the silver light of a crescent moon crept up over the edge of the horizon, Daniel finally gave himself over to his pain. Beneath the pale moonlight he sobbed out his anguish and his terror; his love and his loss.
And in the jet-black, silken sky overhead… one single star glowed just a bit more brightly than all the rest.
{the end }
CLASSIFIED MISSION BRIEFINGS
RETURN TO SGC
OFF BASE
