Stargate SG1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money was exchanged. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are property of the author. This story may be linked, but not be posted anywhere else without the consent of the author.

Notes: (1) Unbeta'd!
(2) The title 'Grey Rooms' comes from a Damien Rice song called 'Grey Room'...I thought it was appropriate (and I just love that song =P ); This little story was semi-inspired by my favourite line: "'Cause nothing is lost; it's just frozen in frost; it is open in time..." Ever since I heard the song the first time, I thought it was so reflective than Daniel and Jack, and their friendship. *is rambling*

"It's choice--not chance--that determines your destiny." ~ Jean Nidetch

"Fine. Glow me."

In the seconds, or years, or eons that followed, Jack decided he really regretted those words--in fact, he found himself wondering once again just what the hell Daniel had seen in this whole 'ascension' thing. Time and space were torn away and he was yanked blind through a void of glaring white, pitched forward into oblivion, into the unknown...

...Into a forum.

"What the..." Jack whirled in place just inside the solid doors, and the muted clang of metal doors falling into place signalled his arrival while his surroundings came into clear and immediate focus. It was a forum, all right; the sights, the smells, everything was familiar, from the plain concrete walls in the porch to the old, nearly see-through rubber mat on the floor. It was like being home again; he was between two sets of doors; one that obviously led outside and another set that opened to the ice surface and stands beyond. Through them, Jack could hear the unmistakable sounds of a hockey game in progress. "This is too weird."

Experimentally, he pushed the outer doors open again--and quickly yanked them shut. There was nothing outside--nothing except that unending white glow, as if the forum was just floating in the middle of nowhere. "Okay," Jack murmured. "Going in."

As he stepped through the inner doors, Jack was assailed with rink atmosphere--the faint smell of used hockey gear and exerted bodies that mingled with the slightly mildewy scent of an old rink and the mouth-watering aroma of all sorts of treats, from hotdogs and popcorn to french fries and hot chocolate. Slowly moving through the wide corridor that diverged around the ice and up into stands that rose on either side, he paused at a glass display case in the center of the hall. Trophies, medals, plaques and pictures adorned the shelves inside, some of the souvenirs fairly new, others obviously having been sitting there for years. Jack found his attention drawn to one trophy in particular. "Chicago Blues--Midget Major CS champions, 1970"--Jack's jaw dropped. It was his rink.

The sudden sound of skates on the floor, of sticks banging off gear, other sticks, and wood, made Jack look up. A team of players dressed in navy blue jerseys trimmed with white and black, and matching socks marched off the ice; it would have been perfectly normal if the fifteen or sixteen young men and women hadn't been completely void of conversation. Jack couldn't remember any game or practice when the air wasn't filled with shouts and laughter and teasing among his teammates, arguing over missed shots or passes, and predictions over upcoming playoff races. Curious, Jack slowly approached them just as the 'coach' shut the gate behind him and the Zamboni rumbled onto the ice.

"Weird," he muttered again; as he watched, the coach followed his players into the dressing room--the door opening onto the same ethereal white glow and slamming shut behind the team. "O...kay..."

The glass was fogged up and he couldn't see the ice, so Jack climbed up high enough to see over it, and watched the Zamboni slowly make its rounds, spreading a new layer over the torn-up surface. The driver looked...familiar, and as the machine rumbled toward him, Jack's eyes widened and he took the steps down to the glass two at a time. "Hey!" he shouted. "Hey, stop!"

The Zamboni hissed as the driver put it in park, and Oma smiled at him from the driver's seat. Jack grimaced, shaking his head. "Colonel," she greeted.

"What the hell is this?"

Not a bit fazed, Oma glanced around, adjusted the toque on her head. "I believe you call this 'home-ice advantage', Colonel."

"No, no." Jack studied her intently. "If this were home ice advantage, you wouldn't be here, and the doors, I think, would not lead to purgatory."

"Purgatory, Colonel? Hardly."

"Well I'm obviously not on Earth anymore, right?"

"Correct."

"And I can only assume this isn't your usual digs, because my whole 'Heaven is what you make it' thing would have an open canteen."

Oma crossed her arms over the top of the steering wheel and smiled a bit more warmly at him. "You are in a transition point, Colonel O'Neill, where humans who have achieved the right to ascend make their final decisions, release their final burdens, and leave their physical bodies behind. From here, they either live lives of enlightenment and virtual immortality, or they may choose a mortal death."

Jack wiped at the condensation on his side of the glass. "So I have to pick?"

Oma leaned toward him slightly. "You have already chosen, Colonel.This place is simply safer for you at this point. We have something we must discuss; something that affects yourself, your friends...your entire galaxy."

"Ah." Jack chose a seat and flopped down into it, watching disinterestedly as Oma slid off the Zamboni and crossed the ice without a hint of caution that her feet might slip out from beneath her, and opened the gate at the far end of the ice. "Junior not around?" Jack asked when she climbed the stands to sit beside him.

"Shifu has other important matters to attend to," Oma replied smoothly.

Jack arched his eyebrows. "Ominous."

Oma sighed heavily. "Colonel, I realize your current situation is not what you are accustomed to, but I can assure you your presence is greatly required."

"That's where you lost me the first time." Jack put his foot up on the back of the seat in front of him and slumped further into the hard plastic. "Daniel's way better at this stuff than I am--he'd be your best bet."

"I disagree--as do the Others." Oma sat across from him, solemn. "The Others have watched Daniel, during his ascension and his time on Earth. They feel he is too..."

"Pain-in-the-assy?" Jack felt remotely guilty for talking about Daniel like this behind his back...but anyway. Besides, Oma seemed amused. As long as she wasn't shooting lightning at him, he was happy.

"Something like that," she replied evasively. "The Others had their hands full with Daniel, as you can imagine. He would not happily bend himself to their rules and what they so often deemed the 'right' thing to do."

"Yeah," Jack said proudly. "He's certainly got a mind of his own."

"Indeed he does. He is strong-willed, but often among us he allowed the beliefs he held as a human to influence his decision making as an ascendant."

"And you don't think I'll be the same way?" Jack challenged.

"Colonel, Daniel knew things about the universe and the people that no one else could or should ever know."

"Oh yeah? Why don't I know them, then?"

"Because you are not yet ascended."

"But you just said--"

"Technically you are ascended. Literally you are not. Those who come to this point are not entirely ascended, and only when they release their burden and are willing to leave their former lives behind can they fully attain enlightenment. When you have heard what I have to say, you will join us."

Jack mentally sighed, but made an 'interested' face for Oma's. "Fine. I'm all ears."

"There are others among the ascended who are a quite real threat to the existence and freedom of all in the Milky Way." Oma's tolerant smile had long since vanished, and she was tense in her seat, dark eyes unreadable and intense. Jack fidgeted slightly.

"Other Others?"

"They are called the Ori, Colonel O'Neill. Generations ago, when those you call 'Ancients' learned to ascend, there were those among them who, with their fundamental differences of opinion, broke off and formed their own community. The difference between the Others and the Ori is that a great deal of the Ori's power and influence depends on the faith of those who follow their religion--Origin."

Now Jack did groan aloud. "Not more god wannabes," he begged. "We're just getting the upper hand on ol' Anubis and the other Goa'ulds...we really don't need this."

"I am afraid so, Colonel. The Ori have been focussing on expanding their ranks for many years. Their entire galaxy has already been converted to Origin, but their thirst for power is not yet sated."

"They're gods to an entire galaxy," Jack muttered. "What more could they be after?"

Oma didn't smile, didn't flinch. "They intend to destroy us."

Jack rose from his seat and slowly paced up and down the row. "I don't understand why you're telling me this. What do you expect me to do; join you and be a soldier in your army of Ancients against an army of anti-Ancients? I thought I was supposed to play peacemaker between you and your gang and the original Others."

"No, Colonel. You are not intended to be a direct part of this battle. However...Daniel is."

"Daniel?" Jack scoffed, washed a hand over his face in irritation. "You just said your buddies don't--"

"The Others have an entirely different idea of what Daniel can contribute to this fight than I do, Colonel. They do not want him to fight with them as an equal; they want to use him as a potential tool for the destruction of Ori."

"What? How? Why?"

Oma shrugged. "Why not? Both the Others and now the Ori believe Daniel may hold the key to destroying all ascended beings, and indeed he may; there is no telling which memories of his ascension may return to him."

Something about her tone, or the way some faint glint of inner knowledge flickered across her face, made a slow, feral smile of admiration spread across Jack's face. "You didn't completely erase his memories, did you?"

"If I had indeed wiped out Daniel's memory, Colonel, he would not be in such standing with the SGC at this moment. He would remain Arrom, as he was on Vis Uban, very unhappy with his claustrophobic existence in your Stargate Command, learning to trust you all over again and reforging bonds made over the years."

Jack sat down heavily again. "You wanted him to remember all along," he said slowly.

"He must be able to defend himself, Colonel. I do not wish for him to be used in such a manner, but I cannot protect him forever. I could not bring him here himself because even at this point he would be subject to the rules of both ourselves and the Ori. If he were here with me at this moment, chances are you would never see him again. The Ori, and even the Others, lie in wait. They are, as you well know, very adept at choosing opportune moments to strike."

"So why me? What do you want me to do?"

"I have told you; you are needed as an intermediary between myself and the Others. You must intervene if there is ever an attempt made against Daniel; you are needed as a guide for him with this upcoming battle."

She couldn't be serious. "No way," Jack said flatly.

"Colonel, you agreed--"

"Agreed to referee yourself and the Others, yeah. You gave me no indication that I had to play Touched by an Angel with Daniel."

"And so you refuse to help us. To help Daniel."

"Hey," Jack held up both hands, "I'm all for helping Daniel. Sure thing, anything he needs, any backup, I'm here for him. SG-1 is there for him; the entire SGC is there for him. I am not, however, going to lead him half blind into a warzone of Jedi and Sith-Ancients who both want to use him to get rid of the other."

Oma obviously didn't catch the reference, but understood the gist of what he was saying. "Colonel, I believe you know as well as I that Daniel would agree to what I am asking."

"I know he would--but there's no way in hell I'm going to let him!"

"You cannot hide this from him, nor him from this."

"Maybe I can."

"Pardon me?"

Jack leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Send me back."

Oma frowned. "Colonel, I cannot--"

"Bullshit, you can't."

"Colonel, I cannot preserve your memories of what has transpired here, and they will find a way to come for him."

"I'll protect him."

A sad smile crossed Oma's face. "You cannot protect him every moment of every day."

"He doesn't need someone else's protection every moment of every day, but if you don't think I can stop a bunch of whacked-out pseudo-Ancients from coming in and warping his mind, I have two words for you: Watch. Me."

Oma met him stare for stare, and finally sighed. "Very well, Colonel. I will give you what you ask. All I ask if that you remember one thing...just one."

"Oh yeah?" Jack's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's that?"

As the glow intensified and his vision tunnelled, Jack heard one word that made absolutely no sense, and he made sure to tell her so as awareness fled:

"Maponos."

=====
=====

"Jack! Jack, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

I roll myself over, eyes still shut tightly, with a groan. There's something cool and soft under me, but oddly I feel quite...aerated. Fuck. With a sudden rush of understanding, my eyes fly open, and before I even focus on who's around me, I yell for help. "Shit! Daniel--clothes! Please! Now!"

Something hard hits and squeezes my shoulder, and I hear footsteps take off across the floor and call for Fraiser. "It is him! He's back, Janet! Sam, Teal'c, c'mere quick!"

Chaos erupts around me again as nurses and doctors and my team fly into action, and the only thing I can do is lay here, stare up at the dull ceiling and concrete walls and contemplate the fact that I'm apparently a cosmic joke. I'm a kid. Again. What the hell?! There's something big on the way..something...."Maponos". Maponos; what the hell is that? If there's something coming for us, what the hell am I supposed to do like this?

"Every moment of every day, Colonel."

Fraiser appears above me, that damn penlight in hand blinding me with pure white near-halogen beam.

God damn that wily...whatever she is.

I grin.

=====

To Be Continued...