July 1999 - Tollana
Daniel emerges from behind the dividing bench unsteadily, wandering, but with purpose, an aim in mind. I’m stood side by side with Teal’c waiting for Lya so we can say our goodbyes and get the hell outta here. Carter’s following in Daniel’s wake, her face a mask of indifference. Daniel looks sick, which isn’t so surprising I guess - we’ve had a hell of a day. Averted Gould invasion, proved “superior” Tollan technology isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and freed a friend from a lifetime of slavery – for a second time.
As Daniel gets closer I see how pale he is, blue eyes slightly glazed over, but not so much they hide the magnitude of what has occurred here today. Score one for the good guys! It’s just a shame this victory is so bitter sweet. I’m aware my own stony expression might not be putting folks at ease, it’s taking all of my will power to hold it in place, but I know full well if I don’t the Tollan are going to get a mouthful. I know why Daniel’s upset, he’s asking himself why were we prevented from saving Shau’re. The answer: Skara was lucky enough to crash his ship on the Tollan planet. Simple as that.
If it had been the other way around, and we’d taken him to the Tollan – not that the SGC had a clue where they were mind you – they’d have gave us the standard party line and sent us packing. So if I know the truth, I’m sure Daniel does too. We would never have been able to save Shau’re by ourselves. And I know that home truth is going to sting pretty damn badly.
I’m extremely happy for Skara, it feels like a great weight has been lifted, but like I said, the bittersweet feeling of regret still lingers. Daniel’s wife is still dead, and he still has to live with the fact that he couldn’t save her.
Eyes flickering briefly over Teal’c’s features to gage how he is taking all this, I quickly return my focus on the person making a beeline for me.
I recognise Daniel’s path and prepare myself without forethought, arm’s opening at just the right moment as Daniel walks, unfaltering, into the space provided. Like a moth drawn to a flame, sometimes I wish I didn’t have this pulling power.
Bringing his hands up to grip at the back of my vest, he’s not caring where he is or who’s watching. I think the only thing Daniel is aware of now is need. The need to be assured he won’t have to go through this alone, not again.
I can make that promise to him at least and promptly close both arms tight around Daniel’s waist and hold him, keeping my own head held high, as if I’m doing nothing out of the ordinary. How I’ve come to obtain this drawing force I’ll never know. Nor do I know what I’ve done to deserve such high affection. I mean lets face it; I’m not exactly the most sensitive of people when it comes down to it. I’m simply aware of its existence and divine to never question it.
I’m starting to get a little hot under the collar with Carter giving me that soppy look again, but Teal’c’s doing his usual eyebrow trick, like this is something not worth batting an eye lid, so that makes me feel better about it. It’s not like I hadn’t known this was coming the minute we’d stepped into the Stargate, but I also knew there was nothing we could have done then. We couldn’t have protected Daniel from this anymore than he could have prevented it to begin with.
This is hard, not for me, but for Daniel. For him to reach the point where he actually needs out and out comfort immediately means he’s finally hit his limit, there’s no more room to bury anything no matter how small. Funny how it is always the smallest of things that makes the biggest of impacts. Getting stranded in an alternate reality and watching his worst nightmare come true as friend's died around him hadn’t done this. Finding Shau’re Pregnant on Abydos hadn’t forced Daniel to relent to his need to feel something other than harsh reality. Even Teal’c resorting to killing his wife in order to save his life hadn’t driven Daniel to seek solace in another person – quite the opposite in fact. No, this is something far worse and far more painful than anything I could have thought possible.
I casually hold him, and furtively hope Daniel can hold it together for a little while longer.