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Bring two Sunsets
He woke to the sensation of rocking, his body gently shifting. Back and forth, back and forth. As he rocked, his face scraped against stone, rough, cold and wet on his cheek. His chest and stomach, barely protected by the thin material of his shirt, dragged across the sharp barnacle and algae encrusted surface. Back and forth.
Slowly pulling his eyes open and raising his head, he squinted into the wavering sunlight and saw an expanse of dark gray. Weathered, eroded stone abraded his upper body; his legs were nearly floating in shallow water, insistently pushed by waves from the endless ocean behind him.
He pulled the rest of his body from the water, dragged himself up the stone sluiced rough and uneven by the erosion of the waves, his arms trembling with effort. He collapsed onto his back, and the twin suns blazing in a lavender-tinged sky seemed more a manifestation of his disorientation and increasing vertigo than any reality to which he could have woken. He had to squint against their dual white brightness. The heat assailed him, already starting to dry the wetness from his clothes.
Daniel knew he should try to move away from the suns, find some shade to protect him from burning, but he was so tired. His limbs were leaden, his head ached with a ferocious throbbing that echoed in his ears, that mingled with the roaring of the waves behind him. His stomach roiled threateningly from the incessant dizziness and all the water he had swallowed.
He knew he was alone on the planet�or at least the sole traveler of SG1�but the full impact of his situation hadn�t sunk in yet. Not when he was so tired. Daniel rolled onto his side and tried to sit up. The motion caused his overworked lungs to spasm and he coughed, long and hard, until his chest tightened with searing pain and he was gasping to catch his breath. His stomach clenched, bile rose in his throat until he was helplessly retching and expelling the saltwater and contents of his stomach onto the rocks.
Unaware that he was moaning�soft cries of pain and exhaustion escaping his lips�he managed to pull himself onto his aching and scraped hands and knees, and half-crawled, half dragged himself further up the rocky beach toward the cluster of jagged, weather-beaten rocks a few feet up. They were tall enough to provide him some shade, and reaching them was the only goal in Daniel's mind.
Willing himself not think of anything beyond reaching their shelter, Daniel forced his body to move long past exhaustion, long past knowing anything but the need to collapse and to close his eyes and sleep, and hope that when he woke, this would just be some dream. Like so many of the nightmares that haunted his sleep.
When Daniel finally reached the rocks, feeling the coolness of their shade on his back and against his scraped palms, he tucked himself behind one of the taller boulders, turned his face toward the cool stone and knew no more.
*****
The sound of unfamiliar animal cries, waves slapping on the rocks, and something tickling the back of his hand slowly coaxed him into consciousness. Daniel opened his eyes, saw some sort of multi-legged insect marching across the hand he held tucked up against his chest. He shook the invader off and carefully uncurled himself from a near-fetal position. His hand still itched from the phantom sensation of the insect�s microscopic feet on his skin and he rubbed it hard against his other hand until the feeling dissipated.
He sat up, rubbed his eyes and brushed away the dirt coating his face, wincing as his hand passed over a long scrape on his cheekbone. His fingers rasped over the faint stubble on his jaw, and he estimated that he'd only been unconscious for a half-day or so. He pulled himself to his feet, tugging his slightly damp T-shirt away from adhering to his body. The skin on his chest and stomach felt raw, and he absently rubbed his hand across his abdomen as he squinted into the distance. He realized his glasses were gone, probably sitting on the ocean floor, or swallowed by some alien fish.
His body was sore and bruised, but he felt better, his strength somewhat restored. Now that he could think clearly again, Daniel could only marvel at the sheer fact that he was alive. Beating ridiculous odds, once more. This planet was a far cry from Cimmeria�the halfway point to Earth he had tried to gate to. He must have misdialed in his haste. As he looked around at his surroundings, the aches in his muscles, the blurriness of his vision, and the hot suns on his face told him that he was very much awake, and this, unfortunately, was not a dream, but some living, breathing, sweltering reality.
He tried to think why anyone would build a Stargate underwater, but he supposed maybe the planet had become flooded since the Stargate had been erected. He was only grateful that the force of the wormhole had pushed him upward, toward the surface. Daniel had somehow had the presence of mind to shed his heavy gear that threatened to pull him down, but still, he had come so close to drowning. So terrifyingly close, that as he fought his way to the surface, his lungs near bursting, he had seen another kind of tunnel�one which he had seen before. That tunnel of light that led to Sha're, to his parents. One that had enticingly beckoned him once again, showed him the way to the ones he'd lost. But like the last time, the light had turned him away, or maybe he had fought against its seduction. He couldn't remember anything beyond that light. That eternal, waiting promise.
He didn't know how he found his way to shore, if he had swum, or if he had been carried by the waves. All he had left were the very clothes on his back. He only hoped that Sam, Jack and Teal'c had made it home safely, and that the vicious blow Jack had taken to his head wasn't life threatening. Under the onslaught of the Goa'uld attack, they'd had to scurry for the gate in pairs. Teal'c carrying Jack's unconscious form draped over his large shoulder, Sam and Daniel covering them. He knew Sam had made it through to safety before the wormhole unexpectedly closed right in front of Daniel's face, just as he was about to step through it. He had very nearly lost an arm in the process�luckily his P-90 had been longer, and the snub nose had been severed as if sliced off with a power saw.
Daniel had ducked back to the DHD, dodging bullets and staff blasts, dialing while trying to keep his head down. He could only blame himself for misdialing, or maybe the gate had somehow malfunctioned�he had no way of knowing, but here he was. A long way from home and the only way back, so far as he knew, was a gate lying hidden under God only knew how many feet of water.
Sam, Jack and Teal�c more than likely had made it back home, he firmly told himself. His gaze was still fixed on the water, but it was the hopeful image of his friends, safe in the gateroom, that filled his vision. It just wasn�t plausible that they�d all been separated through the wormhole.
No, they were fine, he surmised. Fine and safe, and home at the SGC. Home. They were home, and they were probably wondering where the hell Daniel was.
Or maybe not.
Maybe instead they thought, this time, old Danny really bought it. As probable as it was that they had made it home, it would have to be just as probable to his friends that Daniel hadn�t made it at all. Not this time. Daniel had survived more close calls than anyone had a right to�even he knew it. So maybe they were home preparing his wake, once again. And maybe, this time, they were all a little relieved that it was for the last time.
After all, he hadn�t been much of a team player since Sha�re had died. He was surprised that she had been dead for almost a year. Sometimes it felt like only yesterday. And sometimes, he had to admit, it felt like forever. But since he�d lost her for good and his hope had died along with her, he hadn�t been able to join in the moments of revelry that once characterized his team. All he�d wanted was to be left alone with his grief and his guilt, and his obsession with fulfilling his final promise to her. In doing that, he had pushed his team away, as if they were the very embodiment of his grief. He had pushed them so far away that he wasn�t sure if he�d ever be able to find his way back, even if he did make it off this planet.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, shutting out the stretch of rock, the lavender sky and the luminous green of the ocean which, to Daniel, seemed much more counterintuitive than his fatigued, but troubled mind was willing to deal with.
Standing alone on the alien sea shore, an incalculable amount of light years from home, Daniel was overcome by the sudden thought that maybe he had wished this separation upon himself. He wondered if that was why the tunnel of light and salvation had turned him away. He wondered if somehow, instead of death, fate had stepped in and granted his heart its wish�isolation.
*****
He had been walking along the water's edge for what seemed a long time, and still there were no signs of civilization. Ahead in the near distance was a stretch of forest, perhaps there would be signs of sentient life. As he walked, varicolored birds flew overhead, crab-like crustaceans peeked from the cracks in the stones, threatening him with their multi-clawed appendages as he passed. As his stomach started rumbling, he wondered if they would be any good to eat.
The birds were a good sign, he thought, watching flocks of them moving from tall tree to tall tree. Where there was animal life, there was fresh water. He knew he would have to find water soon�he was already getting dangerously dehydrated. His throat felt swollen, like it was edged in sandpaper. His eyes itched and burned and his head felt muzzy. Before he�d set out for the forest, he remembered to mark the spot where he had washed up on shore with a ring of small stones�an appropriate symbol, he thought. Finding food and water was imperative, but what was the use in getting hydrated and back to full strength if he couldn�t find the gate again?
The two suns were lower in the horizon, shining relentlessly on his unprotected head. Daniel�s face and neck were already stinging with sunburn. When he finally reached the trees and stepped into their shelter, it was as if he had stepped into an air-conditioned room, the coolness of the shade a blessed relief.
As he moved further into the trees, he could hear a faint gurgling. His dry mouth already trying to water in anticipation, Daniel headed toward the sound, his body all but crying out in pleasure at the sight of the small stream. He sank to his knees at the muddy edge, dipped his hand in the water. He made himself cautiously sniff the water before tasting. It smelled clean, and the stream was clear enough for him to see the bottom of it. He licked the water from his palm and it was fresh, tasting better than any fine Merlot.
Daniel cupped both his hands, scooped more water, and drank until his stomach complained. He sank back, sitting heavily on the ground, allowing the water to settle. He breathed deeply, taking in the lush scents of the forest�damp leaves, the mustiness of the heavy moss coating the trees and rocks in a fuzzy blanket of purplish-blue, the faint ozone of the stream.
Leaning forward again, he splashed some water over his face, his neck, ran his hands through his hair. He pulled off his T-shirt with a wince and looked down at his aching and stiff torso. The skin was bruised, abraded from his upper chest to belly, the scrapes deep enough in some places that tiny dots of blood beaded the raw flesh. He carefully washed away the blood, cleaned the scrapes as best he could, then eased his shirt back over his head.
That taken care of and his thirst sated, he still had to find something to eat. He knew some forms of moss and leaves were edible, but all his survival training wasn't going to help him identify such alien flora and fauna. He worked his way further into the underbrush and spotted bushes with small, round, purple berries�almost like blueberries, except they were surrounded by fuzzy, cactus-like needles. The berries were pitted with peck marks from the birds, blackish juice dripped onto the needles, almost like blood, Daniel observed. If the birds were eating them, they may be safe, he rationalized, but didn't relish the thought of subjecting his fingers to those needles. He'd keep the berries in mind, if desperation called for it.
Not far from the cactus berry bushes, Daniel spotted trees that resembled thick palm trees. High up, amidst the branches, dangled some sort of fruit�pale yellow, elongated, curved in a fat c-shape and shielded by fan-like heavy leaves.
Daniel gave the trunk a shake, watched as the melon things�for lack of a better word�waved above his head, but none dislodged. He glanced around for a stick, and finding a thin sapling, he twisted and tore off the long, supple twig, then poked it up at the fruit. After a few attempts, he heard a snap, and then a small avalanche of fruit crashed down on him, thumping off his head and shoulders. Daniel jumped back with a startled yelp, threw his arms over his head to protect it and tripped over a root behind him. He landed heavily on his tailbone, his teeth snapping down on his tongue, sending a bright flare of pain right up to the top of his skull. He instantly tasted blood in his mouth, his spine protesting his rapid shift in gravity with a sharp twinge.
Daniel sat still for a moment, surrounded by melons, some split open, bleeding juice around him. Daniel spat on the ground, adding his own blood to the mix. He took a brief moment to wonder if he wanted to laugh or cry, but in the end, he did neither. He picked up one of the split melons, dipped his finger into the juice, rubbed a trace amount over his lips, waited to see if there would be any adverse reaction. When there was none, he tasted a small piece of the pale flesh, ignoring the eager rumbling of his stomach, and forcing himself to wait to see if it would make him ill or not. When the only response was another impatient grumble from his stomach and a faint sting in his bitten tongue, Daniel ate the strangely sweet, mixed with salty tasting fruit, feeling absurdly like Tom Hanks in 'Castaway.'
If only there were a downed FedEx plane nearby, he'd be set.
*****
Dragging himself back to the beach after the fifth near-fatal attempt to swim out to where he estimated the gate to be, Daniel was too tired to curse anymore. He had already cursed the water, swore in twenty-four languages at the waves crashing over his head, nearly drowning him countless times. He saved the Russian curses for letting God and the fates know how goddamned pissed off he was at his situation. Russian was a great language for cursing, as his Russian instructor had told him, but all the expletives and release of his anger did nothing to alter Daniel's plight. Until he built up his muscles and lung capacity to be able to swim out far enough, until his eyes became desensitized enough to keep them open in the salty water so he could try to see where the gate was, he was marooned. Stuck.
He collapsed onto the rocky shore, winced at the scrapes on his abused knees, lay back on the rough stone and tried to catch his breath. The realization that he wasn't going anywhere for a while was slowly sinking in. He had spent the previous night camped at the edge of the trees, shivering and staring out at the waves and the canopy of constellations never dreamed of, the three moons casting long, rippled spotlights over the water. He was awed by the beauty, allowed it to distract him from thoughts of what if.
Tonight, he told himself, he would have to build some sort of temporary shelter to stave off the chill of night. Something that would last the few days it would take until he figured out how to get home.
*****
On the eleventh night, Daniel began to understand what true loneliness was. He thought that loneliness had long since become an old, familiar adversary, but the solitude he had experienced in his youth and early adulthood didn�t come close to reaching the magnitude of this complete isolation. His self-imposed exile back home, when he�d kept himself safely hidden behind stacks of books and translations, was nothing compared to the utter desolation that befell him in the late hours of those long nights with only the sounds of the waves for company.
He tried to remember why being alone back home had been so important, why he�d imposed it on himself. Perhaps it had been as punishment for his failures. Once again, he realized he had received his wish.
Sitting huddled in front of a small campfire outside his makeshift shelter, his arms wrapped around his upraised knees for warmth, Daniel could see the stars and the moons winking in and out from behind the leaves. Their very alien-ness made him feel as if he were the last human alive, made him wonder if his own voice would be the only human voice he would ever hear again. Being inside the shelter was worse. Made him feel closed in, vulnerable, so he waited until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore before crawling into its meager protection and passing out in exhaustion.
The nights were endless, the constant whirrs and chirps of cricket-like insects disrupted his sleep. Even the eternal white noise of the waves against the rocks failed to drown out their hums. He fell asleep to their songs, their music interspersing his dreams so that he felt in a continual state of half-wakefulness. When he was finally able to sleep deeply, he was plagued by nightmares that left him exhausted and wrung out.
In the mornings, he woke to streamers of sunlight shining through the foliage, peeking through the spaces in between the leafy roof of his shelter, warming him, the chattering of the various species of birds replacing the cricket songs. Sometimes the tears were still drying on his face when consciousness returned. Daniel could never remember the dreams that caused him to cry in his sleep, finding himself shocked by the emotions that came forth when his defenses were down. During the day, he never allowed himself to feel anything but hope for survival, for a way to return home.
After a breakfast of nuts and concussion melon, as he had so ineloquently named the oddly shaped fruit, Daniel headed back to the beach, determination winning out over the fear of venturing into the water that had nearly killed him time and time again. He had found some fallen logs, but still needed something to use for rope to bind them together. If he could do that, he could construct a raft on which to paddle out into the powerful current to where the gate may lay. In the meantime, he wanted to practice diving and building up his endurance, since he'd never taken the time to learn to swim all that well. There hadn�t been much opportunity for swimming in Cairo, or on Abydos, he thought wryly. Something he was coming to regret.
As he walked carefully along the water�s edge and watched for sharp edged rocks, the waves lapped at his bare feet, while his boots dangled around his neck, thumping softly against his chest. Daniel absently played with the heavy-duty Swiss Army knife he had been pleased to discover survived his underwater gate trip. Ever since Jack had given it to him, Daniel always carried the knife in the zippered pocket of his fatigues whenever he went on missions. Everything but the kitchen sink was on the thing, and since it was the only piece of his gear left, he knew the knife was not only indispensable, but crucial to his survival.
He remembered the day Jack had given him the knife. It was their first team mission after Chulak, and Daniel had just finished his basic military training. As he was suiting up, his muscles still sore from the unaccustomed and sadistic amounts of sit-ups and pushups he had been ordered and screamed at to do, Daniel found himself nervous about going out in the field. He was officially a member of a military team, as unbelievable as that was to his scholastic and anthropologist's sensibilities. He'd been certain that he'd gotten himself in over his head.
Jack had waited until they were alone in the locker room, made a few geek jibes to ensure enough macho posing had been performed before offering Daniel some big brother-like support. Jack had obviously sensed Daniel's trepidation, could always read him too well, Daniel knew. Jack had casually tossed Daniel the knife, telling him to never leave home without it. Then he had surprised Daniel by clasping his shoulder, giving him an oddly mingled look of concern and affection.
"You're gonna be great out there," Jack had told him, slapping Daniel lightly on the back. Daniel had stammered a thank you, looked at the folded up, red handled knife in his hand. It was definitely far superior to the standard military issue, and he felt absurdly touched by the gift, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. As Jack sauntered out of the locker room, he paused at the door, pointed at Daniel and said with a smirk, "Just remember, if you mess up, I'll kick your ass all the way back to basic training. Be ready to embark in ten minutes."
Daniel was surprised at how much he missed Jack in such a short time. How much he missed all of his team, his adopted family. Missed Sam's easy and uncomplicated love and friendship. Teal'c's steadfastness. He was surprised how greatly he missed them because he could scarcely remember the last conversation he�d participated in with them that wasn�t work-related. That wasn�t rushed, or stilted because he couldn�t wait to get away, to escape to his office, or his apartment�anywhere, but where he had to face his demons head-on. He didn�t want to chance revealing his grief to them. Didn�t want to open the floodgates, which he knew would only lead to a greater sense of failure and despair.
No, it had been easier to pretend that he was fine, even if that pretense had come at the price of straining and diminishing their friendships.
He looked down at the waves pulling at his feet and ankles, as if they were attempting to pry him into the sea�s fathomless depths. Daniel wondered if he ever found a way home, would he even know how to reach out to them anymore? Or was the chasm he had dug himself into as vast and possibly as impassable as the sea before him?
As he wiped the moisture from his cheeks�doing his best to rationalize that the brightness of the suns was making his eyes water�he wondered if he would ever see them again.
He wondered how long he�d be able to pretend it was the suns that brought him to tears.
He wondered if they missed him, too.
*****
After finishing yet another meal of concussion melon, Daniel stood, stretched out the stiff muscles in his spine, feeling each vertebrae crack. As he stretched, his pants slid lower on his hips. Daniel had already tightened his belt a notch, and would probably have to poke another hole in it soon if he kept losing weight at such a quick rate. He could see his limbs already becoming thinner, wiry. A small but vain, prideful part of him was quite taken by how sinewy his muscles looked, but soon enough, he knew they too would be suffering.
He tried to supplement his diet with more protein, but the birds were impossible to catch, and the crab-like creatures were too far and few between for him to have caught more than a handful at a time. The crustaceans were tiny, with very little meat on the small, delicate claws, but with some garlic butter, they wouldn't have been half-bad appetizers. He figured he would have to take up fishing for lack of any better resources, and belatedly wished he had gone on one of Jack's fishing trips so he'd know what to do.
Another regret to add to the list, he thought. If he'd had his journal with him, Daniel was certain that all he'd write in it was, 'things I wished I'd learned to do before I became marooned on an alien rock.'
After relieving his bladder, he headed back toward his camp. The second sun was starting to set, and it became very dark, very quickly when that happened. He stepped carefully through the twigs and branches, the fading light making him have to squint to see properly. Daniel would have given nearly anything for his glasses. The eyestrain was a constant misery, causing a slight, but relentless ache in the center of his forehead.
Daniel yelped in surprise when he felt something hurl itself at him, latch onto his shin. He blindly reached down to fling the small attacker off. His fingers closed around soft fur, and as he threw the creature off him, he heard an outraged wail, sounding almost kitten-like.
The creature curled itself into a tiny, fluffy ball, whimpering on the mossy ground. Even though Daniel�s heart pounded from the sudden spike of adrenaline, he edged closer to the creature, saw that it was shaking with terror. It was about the size of kitten, as well, covered in soft, green-tinged, downy fur. Daniel cautiously crouched down, picked up the animal, cradled it in the hem of his T-shirt, hoping he hadn't hurt it. The creature remained in a ball, tucked up protectively like a hedgehog. He could feel it still trembling in his shirt-covered hands and felt a wave of sympathy for the tiny scrap of life he held at his mercy.
Daniel stood, and carefully walked back to his campfire. He sat down cross-legged on the ground, close to the warmth of the fire. The nights were gradually becoming colder. As soon as the first sun set the air became damp and chilly. The cold settled in Daniel's bones each night, and he wasn't able to fully warm up until mid-afternoon.
He looked down at the animal huddled in his lap, unaware of the expression of tenderness on his face. "It's all right. I'm not gonna hurt you," he said softly, but his voice sounded too loud, startling to his ears. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken above a mutter or a whisper to himself.
He stroked the animal's fuzzy back with an index finger, whispering platitudes and reassurances until finally, he was rewarded with some movement. The animal stirred, then peeked a fuzzy face up at him, tiny black nose twitching, wide, dark gray masked, coal-black eyes blinking. Daniel thought the creature resembled a spider monkey mated with a raccoon, minus a long or ringed tail. Instead, this one had a short stubby tail, the same odd shade of greenish gray as its body.
"Hey, little guy." Daniel smiled as the animal clutched at his shirt with its almost human looking hands and gazed up at him, small head tilted speculatively. From the downy texture of its fur and the roundness of its features and muzzle, Daniel suspected it was still a baby. "What happened to your mom, huh?"
The animal sniffed at him, squeaked in reply and settled itself more comfortably on Daniel's lap.
"You lost? I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Daniel leaned over and reached for his stash of fruit and the berries he had collected. He paused before offering the berries to the creature. After all, he�d had to pick them using the tweezers on his knife, and still ended up getting a painful collection of the thin needles under his fingertips.
He offered one small berry to the animal, holding his hand steady in front of its little face. It reached up a hand, the fingers almost comically long, and snatched the berry from Daniel's hand with surprising agility. It held the berry between two long fingers, nibbling delicately.
"That good?" Daniel asked, popping a berry into his own mouth. They were sugary sweet and juicy, which nearly made all the effort of picking them worthwhile. The animal sat up on its haunches, wobbled on Daniel's thigh and squeaked at him.
"Okay, here's one more, but that's it. You're gonna have to pick your own, if you like them that much." He held out another berry and smiled at the creature's oddly graceful eating habits. "I guess you're a lot a cuter than a decorated volleyball, huh?" Daniel grinned as the animal plucked at his shirt again, begging for more treats.
*****
Daniel woke the next morning, fully expecting his furry friend to be long gone, but was surprised to see that it was curled up in the hollow of his chest, purring softly. In his sleep, Daniel had placed his arm protectively around the creature. He sat up slowly, cradling the animal, resting it on his forearm. It stirred, then gripped the front of his T-shirt will all four of its paws, poking through the thin fabric with its tiny claws and lightly scratching Daniel�s still healing skin.
"Ow," Daniel protested, shifting slightly to dislodge the claws. "It's a good thing I don't have any hair on my chest, or you would have pulled half of it out there. Guess you've decided to stick around, huh?" Daniel said, finding himself strangely pleased at that notion. "You know, I never had a pet before," he said, his voice soft, pensive. "Other than fish, of course, but they're more like living wall decorations than pets."
Daniel walked to the stream to splash some water on his face. His new friend scampered up to his shoulder, clamping its feet around Daniel's collarbone and shoulder blade, balancing. It cooed softly in Daniel's ear before hopping down to the stream's edge and lapping up some water.
Daniel studied his rippled reflection in the stream, ran a hand over the light beard covering his jaw. It itched, and he wished he could shave, but had to settle for using the scissors on his knife to trim the whiskers as close to the skin as he could.
He splashed more water on his face, drank some from his cupped hand and tried very hard not to think of how badly he wanted a hot cup of coffee.
His suspicion that his pet would run off once it grew bored of him swiftly turned out to be unfounded. Daniel had spent the day exploring the forest, searching for more of the vines which he�d discovered that when braided, made a fairly study rope. As he searched, the little animal bounded happily behind him, close on Daniel�s heels, never straying more than a few feet from him.
When Daniel found some more vines, and chopped and unwound them from an elaborately twisted tree trunk, the creature perched on a nearby branch, watching him. It chattered at him in various noises that alternately sounded raccoon-ish, to monkey-ish, to cat-like yowls. To Daniel, it sounded as if the animal was asking him what the hell he thought was doing. Daniel found himself wondering the same thing. Did he really think he�d be able to build a raft sturdy enough to withstand the fury of the waves and the sharp rocks close to shore? But he supposed risking his life was better than doing nothing. Besides, what else did he have to do?
He spent his evenings sitting in front of his campfire, carving a paddle from a smaller log and when that was done, he began the task of braiding, knotting and tying the vines into rope. If he kept busy until exhaustion forced him to give in to sleep, he could just tune out the insect hums and the ever-present underlying fear of not being able to find the gate. Sometimes, he could sleep through the night. Sometimes, he would even manage to sleep without dreaming.
After over a week of seemingly endless hours of making his rope, Daniel finally had enough to begin piecing together his raft. His fingertips were sore and blistered, his shoulder muscles spasmed and ached from the repetitive motion, but stubbornness and determination belied any discomfort. His focus had narrowed to one specific goal: getting home. His only distraction was the little animal who had decided that Daniel was its lost mother and who remained firmly entrenched by Daniel's side.
Close by the water's edge, Daniel knelt by the three large logs, weaving the uneven rope around the ends, tying the logs together to construct his raft. The raft wasn't much, or very sturdy for that matter�he'd barely be able to stretch out on it�but it would have to do. Impatience was winning out over concern for his safety. As he wove more of the rope around the logs, adding extra reinforcement, his furry friend watched him, incessantly chittering at him, cocking its head from side to side, studying Daniel's motions.
"So how's it look?" Daniel asked, glancing up in its direction. The little creature settled itself closer beside him, laying its tiny long fingered hands beside Daniel's on the vine, mimicking his motions. "You wanna help? You've got thumbs�maybe you can tie this knot for me, because it feels like mine are going to fall off any minute."
His friend chirped and sat up higher, nuzzling Daniel's face, its whiskers tickling his nose. "Thanks, fuzz face." Daniel wrinkled his nose, then swiped a hand under it to relieve the itch. He completed his raft by tying his decidedly inept-looking anchor to one end. The anchor was nothing but a large rock tied like a bundle with the rope, but again, it would have to do.
Daniel sat back on his heels to study his workmanship. The raft looked like something Tom Sawyer would have crafted, he critically thought.
"Now, question is, do you think this thing is gonna float?" Daniel said, still eyeing the bundle of logs and vines. "Of course you realize, finding the gate is going to be hard. I mean, I don't even know where I surfaced. I could have been pushed by the waves, ended up miles away from it."
He paused to think for a moment, flexing and unflexing his fingers, wincing at the ache in the tendons. He reached down and patted the top of the animal's head. Its fur was soft as down under Daniel's callused fingertips. "But no, I probably would have drowned by then. No... the gate's gotta be close by." Daniel looked out at the jade green water for a moment and let its constancy shore up his resolve. "It has to be."
*****
On day 33, Daniel lay across the raft on his stomach, catching his breath, feeling the suns beating across his bare sunburned back. He had been diving for too long�every muscle in his body ached, he felt dizzy, his head throbbed from the heat, but he didn't want to give up. Not yet. He reasoned he was far enough out, the water was deep enough to easily conceal a Stargate, but he wasn't so far from the beach that he wouldn't have been able to make it to shore alive that first day.
He had been stubbornly diving for five days, edging out a little farther, a little more toward the rocky edge of the horizon on the first three days, more toward the forested part the next two. He was getting more adept and stronger at swimming, able to hold his breath for nearly two minutes, according to his watch.
This was the farthest out he had ever been, the shoreline a distant speck. He�d moored his raft by lodging the anchor in a jumble of rocks. Deciding to give it one last try before calling it a day, he climbed up on the raft, found his balance, then dove neatly into the water. Forcing himself down the murky depths, his open eyes stinging from the salty water, Daniel thought that he actually, after all this time, had finally spotted something. There was another long stretch of rocks along the ocean floor, sea life crusted in its hollows. Daniel almost decided to resurface for a quick breath of air, when he saw an arch�a graceful, man-made arch, nearly hidden against the craggy, ubiquitous gray of rock.
He swam closer, near enough to touch it. The outside of the circle was crusted with barnacles, tangled with seaweed and trapped in a jumble of boulders. He ran his hand along the familiar embossed shapes before his lungs started burning, his head pounding. Daniel surfaced, gasped in a few gulps of air and tried to contain his excitement. As he treaded water, he struggled to catch his breath�his lungs felt as if they were caving in, threatening to turn themselves inside out. His gaze darted across the luminous, sun-drenched horizon but all he could see was the image of the watery, seaweed shrouded Stargate.
He took a few more slow, deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Taking one final, lung-expanding breath he dove under. He easily reached the gate again, grasped it around its inner diameter and pulled himself down to the bottom. The Stargate was still perched on a badly corroded platform, the boulders surrounding its base carved in an almost perfect U-shape from the force of the exploding wormhole he had been expelled from over a month ago.
He glanced around, felt another flare of excitement when he saw the seaweed draped DHD beside the gate. His lungs were already desperate for air, but Daniel ignored the need to breathe, and worked his way over to the DHD, using the boulders and the remainders of a railing flanking the platform to pull himself along.
He reached the DHD, which was surrounded by more boulders, holding onto the edge with one hand. He pushed away the weeds blanketing the device and saw that its edges were uneven, badly decayed, one side was more square than circular�a ragged chunk had broken off. His gaze fell on the center, and�
Oh, God, no. Dammit, no�
Stunned, Daniel ran his other hand along the glyphs, their familiar upraised surfaces dull and eroded, almost erased by corrosion and salt water. He pressed one of them and nearly let go of the DHD in surprise when a few of the glyphs dislodged from their axis around the long shattered and empty crystal chamber and floated lazily up toward him. One glyph passed over the hollow and useless center, twirling slowly, almost tauntingly in front of his disbelieving eyes.
Rage, frustration and desolation simultaneously crashed over him. Pushing up furiously, his lungs screaming, Daniel broke for the surface, flailing his arms, his legs kicking wildly. His head burst from the water and he gasped in a frantic, desperate gulp of air only to let it out with a raw, wordless scream.
Daniel dropped his head backward, floated on his back, his heart pounding, chest heaving with fury and barely suppressed sobs. When a wave crashed over his head, dunking him underwater, the shock forced him into moving. He coughed up the acrid saltwater, swam for the raft, and flung himself over it. He yanked on the rope securing the anchor and arms trembling with exertion, he hauled the anchor from the water and onto the raft. Feeling oddly numb, as if he were watching himself from far away, he picked up his roughly carved paddle, and somehow, made his way back to the shore.
He dragged the raft back onto the rocks, and finally gave in to the despair. This island was his atonement, he realized. He had unwittingly tempted fate to provide him with a place of isolation, and he would be ever alone on this one. He supposed he had finally run out of second chances, and he had no one to blame but himself. He sank down to his knees, leaned over his bent legs, wrapped his arms around his head and listened to his harsh sobs mingling with the crash of the waves. The cries of the birds flying overhead, oblivious to his anguish, provided an unwitting accompaniment to his sorrow.
*****
Daniel woke when he felt something tapping at his face. He opened his eyes, swollen from tears, and was met with a dark gaze. He was lying on his side, curled up, his head resting on his arms�he hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep. Too despondent to move, Daniel watched the little animal watching him. It hopped onto his arm, leaned its little face toward his and nuzzled his cheek, chittering softly.
Daniel finally pulled himself up to a sitting position, more to get away from the incessant chattering in his ear than any desire to move. His head was heavy and throbbing with congestion. The creature hung onto Daniel's upper arm, curling its fingers and toes around his biceps, but careful not to scratch him with its sharp little claws.
"Looks like you're gonna be stuck with me, my friend," Daniel said as he swiped a hand under his nose. He stood shakily, feeling his skin prickling and stinging from sunburn, but he didn't care. The encroaching pain of his body was nothing compared to the crushing realization that he was never going to see home again.
He spent the next two miserable days in his shelter, shivering with an internal chill running through his veins while his skin burned and throbbed. He could see the skin on his chest and arms was an angry red, blistered and hot to the touch. From how painful it was to lie on his back, he imagined that it probably looked even worse there. The burn was a welcome distraction, though. It helped him focus on something else, kept his mind numb, distracted, concentrating only on the pain and discomfort. Daniel lay curled on his side, stared sightlessly out at the trees, his teeth chattering slightly, and willed himself not to think.
Once his burn healed enough to move almost comfortably, and when the shock and grief had abated enough for him to think rationally again, he realized that his backpack may still be somewhere down by the Stargate�s watery resting place. He knew he had two choices�he could give up and give in to despair, or he could live. Even through the paralyzing depths of his misery, he knew he wanted to live. Wanted to pick himself up and find a way to go on. There was still a big island, or planet, or wherever the hell he was, to explore.
That was what his brain said. His heart, however, well, that was taking a little more time to convince.
I'll think about it tomorrow, he told himself. The Scarlett O'Hara method of coping, he knew, but it was as far as his exhausted mind and body were allowing him to go. Tomorrow, he would look for his pack.
His eyes drifted shut, the distant sound of waves lulled him and he accepted the meager comfort the deceptively peaceful sounds gave him.
*****
Daniel burst from the water with a shout of triumph this time. He kicked over to the raft, struggled to pull his heavy, wet pack out from beneath the surface and against the pull of the waves. His head ducked underwater from the shift in weight as he, with considerable effort, hefted the pack into his arms, and blindly shoved it up and onto the raft with more luck than precision. He swiped the water from his face, and climbed up on the raft after the pack, straddling the soaked canvas with his legs.
When he had caught his breath, he retrieved his anchor, then made for shore. He had spent most of the morning diving before finally finding his treasure. It had been caught on a sharp outcropping of rock, held fast by the shoulder strap. Unfortunately, his vest and jacket were gone, but finding the pack was enough to keep him going, give him a sense of purpose and accomplishment. Something he desperately needed.
Once on shore, he started to drag the raft high up on the rocks. Along the way, something caught his eye, and he paused, looked at the rocky ground with a frown. An oddly shaped stone was sitting at the bottom of a small tide pool, glinting in the sunlight. Lowering the raft to the rocks, and stooping down, he plucked the stone from the warm, shallow water.
Looking closely at the sliver of stone, Daniel realized it was the remnant of a glyph. The symbol for Orion. The first symbol he had deciphered on the Stargate, seemingly a lifetime ago. Orion the hunter, eternally attacking a bull with his upraised club, shoulder marked by the red super giant Betelgeuse, and his left leg by the blue-white super giant Rigel.
Orion supposedly was able to walk on water and had greater strength and stature than any other mortal. Orion could walk on water, and Daniel's first journey through the rippling, mysterious wormhole had seemed as near impossible and miraculous as Orion's feat. Daniel had been able to take a leap of faith and walk through the gate that first time, into the unknown, and step into a life of which he could only have dreamed. He looked at the glyph once more, the glyph that had led him to another world, to where he'd found Abydos and found Sha're. He'd found everything he could have ever wished for on that alien desert, but even then, it hadn't been enough for him to leave it alone. He should have left the rest of those mysteries for someone else to discover, but he hadn't been able to resist tempting fate.
He'd never been able to resist, and look what his curiosity had cost Sha're. Had cost him.
After he'd lost Sha're, he wondered why he couldn't make a leap of faith with his friends. Why he couldn't trust them with his grief and allow them to help him through it. He supposed maybe he'd pulled away from them, because he'd reached a point where he couldn't face being vulnerable again. It was easier to do the leaving, than to be the one left behind.
Maybe, Daniel thought, I wanted to be the one, for once, who did the leaving.
He ran his thumb over the raised, rough symbol, turning the sliver of naquaada over once more. He squeezed it hard in his hand, feeling the rough edge press almost painfully into his skin. Sometimes he wished he'd never made that connection between those ambiguous lines bisecting on a mysterious ancient stone with constellations. Sometimes he wished Orion had stayed shrouded in mystery. Sometimes the mysteries of the universe should be left to the heavens, for the deities to unravel.
He considered tossing the sliver back into the ocean, but something made him stop. Without looking at the stone again, he placed the representation of Orion in his pocket, unsure of why he felt the need to keep it. Maybe it was to remind him of all he had lost. And all he had left behind long before he had become stranded.
He heard a sharp squeak, the sound thankfully distracting him from thoughts of his troubled past and mythological deities. His furry companion was sniffing at his pack, chirping and squeaking. It could probably smell something good in there. Daniel figured at least one of his chocolate or protein bars had survived the elements.
Picking up his pack, water dripping off it and splattering onto the rocks, Daniel allowed himself to be heartened by the fact that he had some supplies to make his life a little easier. He swung the pack onto his back, made for his campsite, his ever-present companion bounding in front of him, chittering excitedly, its happiness elevating Daniel's mood to something resembling hope.
As soon as he reached his camp, Daniel sat down cross-legged in front of his shelter and unbuckled the pack. Slowly, one by one, he took out each item, as if savoring the moment, and he supposed he was. This was his last tie to home.
First came the medkit, then the foil packaged MRE's, a handful of protein bars, a wet extra T-shirt and pair of boxers, pants, socks... then, wonder of wonders, his hand closed around a hard plastic case.
"Yes!" he shouted, pumping a fist in the air in an unconscious Jack imitation. Pulling open the case, Daniel took out the battered frames, unfolded and placed them almost reverentially on his face. For the first time in over a month, he could see properly. The glasses were his old, spare pair, the ones he had worn in Abydos. The lenses were scratched, the frames slightly bent with one bow held together with wire. He had kept them more as a memento than anything else, because Sha're had liked them so much�she had said they were a part of him. He remembered how she used to run her finger around the wire framing each lens before lightly trailing the finger down the bridge of his nose to his lips, then gently kissing him. He had forgotten that they were even in the pack, and to Daniel, they were a godsend.
Daniel glanced around at the forest, surprised at the sharp detail. He could finally see the various species of trees, bushes, shadows and rustles in the dense vegetation. He tensed at the sight of something low and large moving, and quickly looked away again, wondering if he'd been better off when the world had been blurred.
Reaching into the pack again, ignoring the tiny hands that plucked at the canvas and the fuzzy face that tried to peer inside, Daniel pulled out a plastic-wrapped package�his journal. Unwrapping the heavy layers of plastic and pulling the leather-bound book from its industrial strength baggie, he was surprised and pleased to see that it wasn't even damp. He laid the book down beside him.
"Hey, hands off!" he said, gently slapping away the curious fingers reaching for it. Finding his spirits tremendously lifted, Daniel gazed at his friend. He really was a pretty little thing, Daniel thought. He'd decided that his furry friend was a male after having spotted a few similar other creatures scampering around in the trees. Some were greenish, like this one, while others were more gray, subtler in color, which he assumed were the females.
"I think you need a name," Daniel decided, smiling as fuzz face hopped in front of him, pulling at the Velcro straps on his pack. He knew it was stupid, but he'd hesitated on naming his pet because of an irrational fear that by giving the animal a name, he would be making their relationship a permanent one. That it would somehow seal Daniel's fate as an outlander. Now that the fear had become reality, he reasoned there was no sense in worrying about it anymore.
Looking into the bright black eyes, Daniel said, "A name is important, you know. Someone once said that you become your name. I've always wondered if my life would have been different if I'd been named Steve, or Joe, or Bob." Daniel continued to empty the contents of his pack, spreading them around him. A knife, fork and spoon. Hunting knife, sheathed in a leather cover. Binoculars. A foldable camping stove. A shaving kit�will definitely be using that in the morning, he thought. A canteen full of water and packets of purification tablets. A roll of soggy toilet paper. Some nylon rope, which would have really come in handy a few weeks ago. A sleeping bag. Basic gear, but to Daniel they had become wondrous luxuries.
"Now Daniel means, 'God is my judge,'" he continued, "which I was never sure what that truly meant. Does it mean that God alone judges me and my actions? Am I special to God? Does he have some divine plan in mind for stranding me on a planet with nothing but a noisy ball of fluff for company?"
Said ball of fluff squeaked as if in protest, then sat up on his haunches. He carefully placed his hands over his raccoon masked eyes, then peeked out between the long, skinny fingers.
Daniel smiled and said, "Forget it fuzzball. Wait until dinner, or find your own food."
The animal's talent for mimicry was a good source of entertainment. Daniel had been suffering from a particularly bad headache one night, and he�d glanced up to see the animal watching him intently. It was grasping the fur between its eyes, in exactly the same way that Daniel was pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the incessant pain that had settled in his forehead. He'd stared at the animal in amazement, then tried other motions�the see no evil, hear no evil routine, which was copied with solemn concentration. Then, they had graduated to peek-a-boo, which so far, seemed to be the creature�s favorite.
"Now, this is very important, so pay attention." Daniel raised an index finger. "And don't worry�I won't call you Wilson, or Vogt, or Mizuno. I've been thinking about your name for a while, actually, and I'm going to give you the gift of a good name. I think you look like a Dazhbog."
His pet chittered, still peeking at Daniel through its fingers.
"Dahhsh-bogg," Daniel repeated, over-enunciating each syllable. "Now, Dazhbog was a Slavic sun god who ruled happiness and rewards. He is sometimes referred to as a personification of the sun. Also, he really had it good�even for a god. He lived in a palace of gold that enjoyed a perpetual summer. He drove a diamond chariot and had two beautiful women who lived with him in his palace. Now, I realize I�m not a beautiful woman, but somehow, I don�t think that matters much to you, does it?" Daniel said, shaking his head.
"Anyway, he also had access to any material treasure that could be imagined, and had his youth restored every morning. All celestial bodies were at his service�the moon was his wisest advisor, the planets acted as his attendants, and comets were his personal messengers. He didn't have a care in the world. A bit like our not-so good friends, the Goa�uld, and not that I�m saying you�re anything like them, but if you�re going to be named after a god, it�s best not to name you after one whose identity was stolen by a parasitic race. That would just be asking for trouble, wouldn�t it?" Daniel frowned, paused for a moment. "At least I don�t think there�s any Goa�uld named after Slavic gods. They seem to prefer the more romantic Egyptian and Roman names."
Daniel broke off his monologue, realizing that he had been babbling, but then again, it wasn�t as if there was anyone around to complain about it. His pet didn�t seem to mind, anyway. The newly christened Dazhbog hopped onto Daniel's lap, grasping his T-shirt in a leathery fist and giving it a tug. The shirt was already getting worn in that one spot. The animal cuddled up to him, almost melting against Daniel�s chest.
"Now don't be getting any delusions of grandeur either. You've already got a pretty good deal going on."
Dazhbog made cooing happy noises as Daniel scratched behind the animal's ear and perused his supplies at the same time. Unfolding the small, portable cooking stove, Daniel decided that he was going to be eating well tonight. Normally the MRE version of Shepherd's Pie left much to be desired, but after eating nothing but melon, nuts and berries for over a month, it would taste like a royal feast�fit for a Slavic sun god, even.
*****
Daniel had walked along the shore as far as he could, then climbed onto the raft where the flattened beach gave way to sharp rocks, leading to cliffs and heavily forested patches. He paddled along the edge of the rocks, his pack and Dazhbog balanced on his back. It had taken some coaxing to get the animal to come onto the raft, but Daniel figured the thought of losing his free meals and pillow at night had won out over Dazh�s fear.
Daniel felt a faint qualm about leaving the beach where the Stargate lay, where he knew to find food and water, but the inactivity was making him despondent, close to giving up hope. He had no idea what was on the other side of the cliffs, but he was willing to take any chance to find some sort of life, of respite. He supposed he could always go back if he found it too inhospitable.
He had to fight against the waves trying to push him further out, away from the shore. In some places, he had to slip halfway into the water, and kick with his legs to negotiate the raft around sharp corners in the carved-out landscape.
Finally reaching what he estimated to be the opposite side of the beach he'd been on, he looked for a place to climb up. Finding a calmer spot with a stretch of rock that looked sloped enough for him to be able to climb, Daniel pushed toward the rugged shore.
He grasped the edge of the rocks with one hand, stepped off the raft into knee-deep water and onto the seaweed-slicked rocks. He pulled himself up, skidded a few times while awkwardly tugging the raft behind him. Once on the nearly flat surface at the top of the short incline, all he could see was rock and dense, thick vegetation.
Daniel stepped up to a dry rock, pulled off his pack and sat down. Dazh sat next to him, clawing at tiny insects scampering across the rocks, managing to catch some and sucking them off his fingers like some tasty delicacy. Daniel tried to ignore Dazh's slurping noises and looked over the watery landscape he and his furry travel companion has just crossed. So far, the ocean looked exactly the same on this side. Nothing but an endless green stretch of water, unbroken by any land. Not even a small island was visible. As he looked at the waves, Daniel wondered what the hell he should do now.
Well, the first thing to do, he decided, surveying the thick vegetation behind him, would be to protect himself from being scratched and cut to ribbons by those twigs and blades of grass.
He opened his pack and removed the extra pair of pants, socks and boots and laid them out on the rocks. Daniel stood up and stripped off the ragged pair of cut-offs he had been wearing, made from his faded, torn fatigues. He kicked the threadbare shorts onto the rocks and suddenly wondered why he was being so Puritanical in his need to keep his body clothed. Was it for protection, or merely force of habit?
Much of human behavior came from the expectations and enforcement of the society in which they existed. That enforced behavior swiftly broke down when society no longer existed or was taken away. Daniel wondered if after a few more months of solitude and a lack of societal confines, he'd be running around in nothing but a loincloth.
Or maybe not, Daniel thought, trying unsuccessfully to picture himself making like Tarzan. Somehow, he didn't think he was the loincloth type, lack of society, or not. He shook his head, wondering if the solitude was slowly starting to get to him. He reached for his pants and tugged them on, the material sticking uncomfortably to his still-damp legs. He glanced at the trees behind him again, then at Dazh.
"So what do you think, fuzz face?" The animal looked up at Daniel from his lunch of the tiny insects. Daniel wrinkled his nose when he saw Dazh pick up a particularly large, multi-legged bug and shove it, still wriggling, into his mouth.
"God, Dazh! How can you eat that?" Daniel quickly looked away again.
Dazh blinked at him, chewing his morsel, then continued pawing at the rock. Daniel decided that he was going to stop sharing his hard-earned berries with the animal. Dazh was more than capable of finding his own treats, Daniel thought, suppressing a grimace.
"So when you're finished there, what do you say we check out the other side of the island?" Daniel said. As he pulled on his boots and crouched over to tie his laces, he half-sang under his breath, "To see what we can see."
He greatly hoped that there was more to this side of the island than the same furtive creatures, rocks and tangled trees, but at the same time, he steeled himself against the very likely disappointment of finding nothing.
Just take things one step at a time, he told himself. He knew that was the only way to get through, and to cope with this new existence. Daniel reached over and picked up his shorts, shoved them into the pack and tugged the pack back on.
As he tried to see further into the trees, he felt strangely nervous about his new surroundings. A feeling he knew was uncharacteristic for a guy who'd spent most of life moving from one new place to another, playing catch up to the new languages sounding melodiously around him. Finding himself working through and deciphering alien and foreign tongues at an effortless breakneck speed. Daniel knew too well of change, but perhaps there was such a thing as a limited amount of change a guy could adapt to in one lifetime.
Or maybe, he thought, it was simply the complete lack of sentient life, of language, or anything he could make sense of that was so unfamiliar. That was so difficult for his analytical and linguistic mind to comprehend.
Dazh looked up at Daniel and saw that his ride was about to leave. The animal abandoned the rock and hopped onto Daniel's back, climbing up to the top of his pack, digging his claws into the thick canvas, then settling himself comfortably. Daniel began to negotiate the uneven rocky ground and work his way further into the trees, pushing aside twigs and branches as he walked. There were more concussion fruit trees, more of the cactus berry bushes, but the undergrowth was thicker, lusher, as if this side of the island received more precipitation.
He stepped onto something hard, which crunched under his boot. Daniel froze in place. Brush and breaking twigs made one noise, dried grasses another, but this sound� he knew this sound. He glanced down to see that he had stepped on what looked like a piece of pottery. His eyes widened in surprise. His skin all but prickled with anticipation.
God, finally a sign of civilization, he thought, a wild surge of hope rising in him. He picked up the shard, turned it in his hand, studied the muddy brown clay. The outside was decorated with seashells and badly weathered. The piece looked old�it had been sitting on the damp ground for at least a few years, he estimated.
"Okay, what do we know," he muttered under his breath, still studying the shard. "We, um� we have primitive use of tools, ability to form complex shapes--prehensile thumbs. The clay�" he studied the colorations more closely, "yes, the clay would have to be fired. Knowledge of fire and ability to control fire. The piece is decorative, which demonstrates a sense of history, a sense of tradition and ritual."
He allowed his soft voice to trail off, realizing that he had been talking to himself in his excitement at his discovery. Don't get too excited though, he cautioned himself, everyone could be long gone by now. But at least the planet had been inhabited at one time�maybe there were still traces of civilization left.
He pushed further into the trees, kept his eyes fixed on the ground. The hope for further remnants of habitation replaced any other thoughts, or caution. Another shell, the remains of a crab, crushed pungent rotten melon, then something bleached stark white amidst the earthen gray and green.
Daniel bent down to retrieve it. A thin, narrow bone. Some animal maybe? He turned it over in his fingers, perusing it more closely. On closer inspection, Daniel realized the bone looked human. Possibly a human metacarpal. It was ridged with what he thought were teeth marks.
Daniel tried to ignore the feeling of unease settling into his own bones as he let the skeletal remains drop from his hands. His eyes darted from tree to tree, but he had no idea what he was looking for. Only intermittent screechings and cries from unseen birds and whatever else lurked in the forest interrupted the strange, disconcerting silence unnerving him.
The air was cool, much cooler than it had ever been. He felt goosebumps rise on his bare arms. Daniel decided that he'd better see about finding some shelter. It was too late to go back to 'his beach' and the night was going to be cold. He edged further in, seeking fresh water, listening carefully for the sound of running streams. He had carried enough water with him, but wanted to be prepared anyway.
After a few steps, the fine hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end. He stopped and sensed rather than saw someone watching him. His hand instinctively went to the sheathed knife on his belt.
He felt a flurry of motion at his back. His heart skipped a beat.
"Shit!" Daniel ducked his head instinctively. He saw a blur of greenish gray as Dazh streaked from his pack and disappeared into the foliage, instantly blending with his surroundings. Daniel held still, not wanting to even imagine what would have startled the creature so badly. Dazh's fight or flight instinct would probably serve the animal well, Daniel hoped. He only wished his own instincts were so acute.
Then, a rustle, a snap of twigs. Daniel's head darted in the direction of the sound and he only spotted movement�branches parting to accommodate the passage of something large.
He stood perfectly still, his fingers intermittently clenching and unclenching on the handle of the knife. A drop of sweat trickled down the bridge of his nose, then dripped onto the ground. Daniel's senses were so hyper-alert he could almost hear the drop landing on the moss covered rocks by his feet. He stood motionless until the movement and sound faded, and all he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears, the leaves rustling in the wind and the muted waves on the shoreline. When the rustles of the trees ceased, and he no longer felt alien eyes watching him, Daniel slowly allowed himself to resume normal breathing. He didn't completely relax though�he knew that whatever had been watching him was still out there, just waiting for him to let down his guard.
Daniel softly clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Dazh? Where are you? Come on out. It's okay." I hope, he thought as he continued to scan his surroundings. The forest was still. And quiet.
Too quiet, he thought. His hammering heartbeat gradually slowed as he stayed still, waiting. But waiting for what? he wondered.
Daniel took a breath, then edged forward again. Looking around, he saw no sign of his friend or whatever had startled him. He hoped that Dazh hadn't been so spooked that he became lost. Despite his initial reluctance to allow himself to become attached to the creature, Daniel found he had come to rely on Dazh's constant presence. He realized he had even come to care about his pet a little more than he thought possible.
Daniel tried to reassure himself that Dazh was probably far more adept at finding his way around the forest than Daniel was, and would find his way back on his own. Or so he hoped. Daniel didn't even want to think about having to go it alone again after becoming accustomed to having a companion with whom to share his new existence. Even if that companion was merely an alien primate, or whatever the hell Dazh was.
Daniel continued on his exploration, staying close to the edge of the trees, cautious and fighting every instinct to turn back and head for the safety of his familiar beach.
The wind was picking up in intensity, ruffling Daniel's hair and loose clothing, parting and clumping the thick underbrush surrounding him. As the wind separated the vines, tangles of bushes and branches, he saw a gleam of tall, pale gray through the green. Daniel walked in the direction, pushing aside the twigs blocking his path.
As he edged closer, he saw that the gray was a statue, nearly as tall as he was, and carved from the same dull rock that made up so much of the land. The statue depicted the figure of a slender, bearded man wearing a cap, which was surmounted by two tall elaborately carved plumes. Daniel stepped close to the figure and studied the face, its familiarly lined eyes. He ran his finger along the carved adornment around its neck and draping its shoulders.
"Amun�the hidden one," he quietly said to no one, but it had become habit to speak the pedantic words as they came to him, so he continued on with his lecture, the tall grasses and trees his only students. "Or Amen-Ra. Self created at the beginning of time. Believed to be the physical father of all Pharaohs. Early on, he was a god of air and wind. Later, a fertility god. The Creator of all things, and during the New Kingdom he became 'The king of the gods.'"
Daniel wondered if Ra himself�or rather, the false god, Ra of Abydos, had made his mark on this planet as well, assuming the name and myth of another, as his namesake had also done. Edging around the damp, algae encrusted figure, he noticed that his boots were again crunching on something. Glancing down, his eyes widened. He looked up slowly, finally taking in his surroundings, his mouth dropping open in shock.
"Oh my God," he whispered, stunned motionless.
All around him were bodies. Skeletal remains of human looking bodies. A graveyard, a hidden resting place for the dead. There were scattered stone markers to designate a number of upraised graves, but many of the bodies lay on the ground, unprotected and exposed to the elements. The bodies were tightly wrapped in only thin sheet-like material, the skeletal imprints of their crossed arms protruding from beneath the cloth. Some of the wrappings had come off�either torn by animals, or decayed from the dampness of the climate, revealing withered, rotted strips of skin and flesh that dangled from startling white bones.
An uncovered skull was close to his foot, the top of its head still wrapped in its shroud like a hood, empty jawbone gaping open, almost in mockery of Daniel's own horrified expression. Daniel had stepped on some broken pottery beside it, had almost stepped on the skull itself. The pottery, along with weapons, and small, carved figures was placed alongside the body�the personal affects of the person long passed from the land of mementos and into the land of light.
He spotted more bits of shattered pottery, jewelry, weapons, and greenish-tinged flowers growing amidst and around the bodies and the objects. More belongings of the dead, he surmised with an oddly mingled pang of unease and grief for all those mysteriously ended lives.
He'd seen death many times, even genocide, but he'd always been with others to share witness to the indescribable�of so many deaths it was hard to comprehend the sense of loss and underlying horror of it. He'd never had to face it on such a grand scale alone, before. Most of the bodies appeared as if they had been there a while�at least five or six years.
Daniel took a few deep breaths, tried to ignore the acrid stench of decay he was surprised he hadn't noticed before, tried to mentally distance himself from what lay before him. He was an archaeologist, after all. He was accustomed to burial sites and mass graves, however, he couldn't help but feel a terrible sense of dread. It was bad enough being stranded alone, but being alone with only the dead for company....
Get a grip, Daniel. Just a bunch of skeletons. Nothing you've never seen before.
He was uncertain what to do next. He redirected his gaze to the statue�something he could make sense of. Again, he had the feeling he was being watched. Continuing his perusal of the statue, he ran his hand over the smooth surface, taking a moment to admire the artist's skill, despite his fear of what lurked in the underbrush. Daniel turned his head slightly, looked toward the trees, moving only his eyes. He saw the branches off to his left shifting again.
He froze, his breath caught in his lungs.
The rustling ceased, the branches so still he wondered if he had imagined it. He turned back to the statue, still keeping his eyes fixed on the bushes. A rush of movement so fast that Daniel didn't have time to react, then something launched itself at him.
Claws and fingers clutched at his shirt, scrabbling at him.
He shouted, stumbling back. Daniel banged into the statue, falling hard against it, his heart skipping a beat. He looked down at his chest, grabbed at the attacker, almost afraid he'd find skeletal fingers clutching at him�a corporeal spirit angry with him for disturbing its resting place
He heard a sharp squeak, and it took a moment for his adrenaline-hyped brain to recognize what had attacked him, what still clung to his shirt. He felt soft fur instead of hard bone. Saw greenish fuzz instead of gray withered flesh.
"Jesus God, Dazh!" he gasped and shoved his glasses back from falling off his nose. "Are you trying to give me a goddamned heart attack? I could have hurt you!"
Dazhbog climbed up to his shoulder, wound a fist in the neck of Daniel's T-shirt as a handhold, and whined and skritched in his ear. Daniel could feel the animal trembling. He reached up a hand and scratched behind Dazh's ears. "It's okay. It's nothing," he said as reassurance for both of them. "Just some� animal checking out the new neighbors. Everything's okay, we're both just being jumpy."
Dazh let out another chitter, sounding less nervous as Daniel continued to pet and comfort him. Once Daniel's heart resumed a normal rhythm, he straightened up shakily and said, "And, if you ever do that to me again, you're on tomorrow night's dinner menu."
Dazh chirped, rubbed the top of his head against Daniel's cheek. "Don't try to suck up to me, either," Daniel scolded, but found himself incredibly relieved to have his pain in the butt friend back. He was getting seriously spooked and having Dazh around instantly lessened Daniel's unease.
Daniel felt a drop of water splash onto his face, run down his neck. He glanced up, saw that the sky was now a deep, ominous purplish-black, like an angry bruise. The trees swayed and rustled overhead, offering him some protection, but Daniel knew he'd better find shelter quickly. Another drop of water fell on him, then, as if someone had turned on a shower faucet, rain poured on him, an onslaught of water instantly soaking him to the skin.
Cursing under his breath, Daniel made his way past the macabre clearing, carefully stepping over the bodies, not wanting to disturb their resting places. He pulled his glasses off when the lenses became foggy and clouded with sheets of raindrops. Ducking under the water gushing down on him, the large leaves overhead acting like spouts, Daniel blurrily found what was left of a hut. Only two corner walls and a portion of the roof remained, but it was better than nothing. He darted inside, tucked himself in the corner, shivering.
Bodies. Huts. Statuary, he thought, trying to catalog the experience as distraction. This was the groundwork for a marvelous dig that would normally have had him eager and thrilled with the anticipation of discovery. Instead, he was only grateful to be out from the deluge and from the watchful eye of whatever had been lurking in the forest.
He realized he could still see the open graveyard from his position, even through the torrential downpour. The force of the water and the rushing wind caused the bodies to move slightly, or maybe it was only his imagination. Daniel felt ridiculously like a scared child conjuring monsters under his bed again. He knew he had nothing to fear from the dead, it was the living you had to watch out for. But, huddling against a damp and moldering wall, the cold and wet sinking into his bones, the rain so loud it seemed to echo in his head, and hope for salvation further and further from his grasp, Daniel could easily let his imagination run away with him.
In the midst of life we are in death. Who said that now? he thought. The lyrics of an old Smiths song rang in his head inappropriately. "Etcetera, etcetera, in the midst of life we are in death..."
No, it's from the Book of Common Prayer, he irritably corrected himself, and once more, wondered if the solitude was finally getting to him. He shivered, in response to both the relevance of the verse to his current situation, and to the cold.
Pulling his pack off, Daniel reached inside and took out his spare T-shirt. Peeling the soaked material off his back, he then put on the dry shirt, instantly feeling a little better. He unrolled the sleeping bag and slid into it, burrowing in its warmth, propping himself against the corner wall of the hut.
Dazh clambered onto Daniel's tightly crossed arms hidden beneath the sleeping bag, the animal's dripping wet ears unhappily flattened against his head. Daniel swiped a hand over his wet face, shifted his arms so Dazh could sit more comfortably, then tucked his hand under his arm again.
"You know, I'm starting to think this was a bad idea."
Dazh pressed himself against Daniel's chest, his small body shaking as much as Daniel's. The animal whimpered, seemingly in agreement, and as they both looked out at the monsoon, Daniel's heart felt as gray and bleak as his surroundings.
He wondered if someday, another lost and weary traveler would find his bones.
*****
He felt something clutching at his legs, pulling at him, grabbing onto his arms, pulling, dragging him. He fought them, grasped at any handhold he could find, but the hands were too strong. He looked into the faces, some rotting, some stripped of all flesh to reveal nothing but bone. He looked frantically past the empty faces to see more figures standing back, watching him.
Come with us, join us, you belong with us, you walk among us. Come, come with us....
He fought wildly, tried not to look at the empty eye sockets, then saw a familiar pair of eyes watching him. Well loved, liquid brown eyes, framed by long curling hair. She was looking at him, her eyes filled with sorrow, with regret, standing away from the others, her small hand reaching for him. He shook his head desperately in negation, fought against the other hands pulling at him�
Daniel startled himself awake with a short cry bursting from his lips, his heart racing. He looked around, frantic, completely disoriented. His clothes were still damp, sticking clammily to his skin, the ground soggy around him.
As he took in his surroundings, the night slowly came back to him. The heavy sheets of rain. Gusts of wind. Intermittent splashes of freezing drops on his face. Sleeping in fits and starts, jolting awake from every sound, every rustle.
The rain had stopped, but everything was still wet and dripping, the wind spraying droplets of water in the air, as if the sea itself had taken flight. The air smelled pungent, heavy with decay and wet soil. Daniel ducked out of the dilapidated hut, tried to clear his scattered thoughts. He was exhausted from the long, restless night. His eyes were gritty with fatigue, but he didn't want to stay in the same spot a moment longer. He turned in the direction of the graveyard and froze. Daniel�s breath caught in his lungs with an almost painful start. His gaze locked with another's.
A woman's eyes. Wide, fearful, but steady.
He thought for a moment he was imagining her. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, disbelieving what they beheld. Took a cautious step forward. "Hello?" he said in a soft voice. The woman's eyes widened, her features stamped with fear. She turned away and stepped back into the underbrush.
"No! Wait! Don't go!" Daniel rushed toward where she had disappeared, all caution pushed aside. "Please, come back! I won't hurt you!" He whipped his head from side to side, his eyes darting in every direction. The branches swayed from the wind still pushing through the trees, rustles and snaps of twigs all around him. He couldn't tell which direction she had gone. He held still for a moment, his eyes wide, every sense on alert as he waited for any signs of her.
Please don't let me have imagined her, he pleaded with the fates, with himself.
Then, he saw a glimpse of hair, a flash of skin. Hardly even aware that he was moving, Daniel tore through the branches, cursing as they caught on his clothes, slapping against his arms and face, slowing him down.
"Please wait!" Daniel's plea went unheard or unheeded, as she kept moving. His foot caught on a root, and he slammed face-first to the ground, hard, his breath rushing out of his lungs in a painful whoosh.
"Ahhh, God!" he gasped at the flare of pain shooting up his left forearm, tried to draw a breath into his shocked lungs. "Goddammit."
He pulled himself to his feet, and looked around desperately, but she was gone. Daniel felt a sting of tears prick behind his eyes. Tears of frustration and pain. He glanced at his forearm, wincing at the sight of the long, ragged gash. Looking down at the ground, he realized he had cut himself on a sharp rock sticking out from the dirt, his blood gleaming wet and bright red on the mossy upraised edge of the stone.
Daniel held his arm up, elbow bent, hand closed over the gash, blood dripping through his fingers and made his way back to the hut, to where he had left his pack. The front of his clothing was glued to his skin�wet and splotched with rainwater and cold mud�only adding to his misery.
She'll be back, he told himself. That is, if I didn't just imagine her.
If he'd imagined her, then he supposed he wouldn't be feeling lonely for too much longer. He'd be just as mad as when he'd had Machello's bug inside him, listening to ghosts calling him once more, seeing imaginary inhabitants on an island of the dead.
*****
Daniel could be on any other planet, on watch, with his team sleeping in their tents behind him, if he didn't allow himself to think too much. He'd been too damned tired to gather any food, so he broke open another MRE�fettuccini alfredo this time�and decided to write in his journal while he ate. He tried to ignore how achy and cold he was, yet his face felt too warm and flushed. How the cut on his arm throbbed faintly in time with his heartbeat, with each breath. He uncapped the ballpoint, pen poised on the page.
He hated the thought of spending a second night with only Dazh and the dead for company, but the belief, the hope that the young woman would come back won out over any trepidation, and he'd already set up camp anyway.
Daniel had overcome his nervousness of the graveyard and had spent the previous day looking through the pottery and artifacts, careful to return the objects to their owners when he was done meticulously cataloging the lost culture in his journal.
He'd explored only a small area beyond the graveyard, finding more broken-down huts and shattered artifacts. He wanted to stay close, in case she returned. If he stayed in one place, where she could watch him from afar and undetected, and see that he was harmless, he hoped maybe she would come back.
As he worked, he saw vague outlines of large animals moving stealthily through the camouflage of the trees, but they'd left him alone. A few times, he'd had the feeling of being watched again, but he couldn't see any sign of who, or what was observing him.
He glanced up at the jet-black night sky, the moons and stars obscured by fog and clouds. The only light came from his campfire, which was a relief, in a way, since he couldn't see farther than the flames, couldn't be reminded of the graveyard that lay nearby. Couldn't be reminded of how far from home he had come.
He looked back down at his page to write, and his vision swam, turning his careful handwriting into wavering, fuzzy blurs. He closed his eyes for a moment�they stung with fatigue, the skin on his face felt hot and too tight over his bones. His head throbbed with a relentless, dull ache that made him feel muddled, disoriented.
When he opened his eyes again, his pen was pressed into the page, poking through the paper. He realized that he'd forgotten what he was going to write, and he frowned at the book in his lap as if the page itself would tell him what thoughts and observations were suddenly eluding him.
He'd been staring at the page for God knows how long when a sharp squeak from Dazhbog startled him. The animal took off, climbing up on the roof behind them.
Daniel looked up from his journal, turned toward the vicinity of the clearing, and held very still when he saw her step up to his campfire. He hadn't even heard her approach. Her motions were tentative, quiet as a shy deer. She paused, studied him warily.
Daniel kept still, said nothing, but gave her a gentle smile, his demeanor deceptively calm�inside, his emotions were churning, his thoughts racing. He was rewarded with a slight relaxation of the woman's posture, but she kept her eyes fixed on his, cautious and appraising. After a moment, she sat down across from him, watching him over the glow of the campfire, orange and crimson reflecting in the depths of her eyes.
They were unusual but remarkably beautiful eyes, Daniel noted. Very light, almost silvery gray, in stark contrast to her olive complexion. Her hair was a long tangle of dark brown, her features strong, exotic�almost like the Abydonians. It was difficult for him to judge her age in the dim, fiery light, but he estimated her to be anywhere between her late-twenties to early thirties.
"Hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm very glad I didn't imagine you."
She tensed again, frowned with incomprehension at his words.
"Do you speak English?" he asked, and when he was met with another look of confusion, he tried the variation of Egyptian the Abydonians spoke, recalling the statue of Amun, the familiar looking artifacts in the graveyard, which were so similar to those on that alien desert.
She seemed to react to this, so Daniel repeated the first words he had spoken to her in the language.
She gave him a fleeting smile, then stood again, stepping away from the warmth and the light of the flames.
"No, wait! Please, don't go," Daniel said, getting to his feet. He staggered at the wave of dizziness that poured over him and gritted his teeth against the resulting nausea, holding out his arm to steady himself. "Wait," he said to her again, his voice tinged with desperation, but it was too late. She had disappeared back into the night, like a teasing apparition.
"Please, come back! I won't hurt you! I just want to talk to you!" he called into the blackness, hoping she'd hear. When the only reply was the cricket-like chirps, the night otherwise so silent he could hear each wave crashing and slapping at the rocks, he sat down again. His head was still spinning with vertigo, and wavering spots of black obscured his vision.
Propping his head on one hand, Daniel felt the heat of his skin scorching his palm. He looked through the fire, at the place she had vacated. The brief reprieve made him realize how terribly he missed human companionship.
She'll be back, he once more tried to reassure himself. He wished he had touched her, just to see if she truly was real.
*****
He had woken the next morning feeling shaky, drained somehow. His body felt cold in his sweat-dampened clothes, but his face was clammy, hot and ruddy with fever, his muscles heavy with a dull ache that seemed to have settled into the marrow of his bones. Daniel had slept off and on for most of the morning, unable to summon the energy to do more than swallow a few aspirin.
When he woke again, it was cooler, late afternoon. He sat up, winced at the jolt of pain shooting through his arm when he put his weight on it. Daniel noticed that blood and serum had seeped through the gauze. He dragged himself out of his sleeping bag, and clenched his teeth as he unwound the bandage. The gash was swollen and inflamed even though he had cleaned and sterilized it twice already. Reaching for his medkit, he opened it and pulled out a tube. His eyes burned as he concentrated on applying the antibiotic ointment, his hand trembling so much he smeared the substance in a messy, wavering line over the angry wound. The fresh bandage he wound around his arm was sloppy, uneven, but he couldn�t seem to focus well enough to do a proper job of it.
He wondered if something had entered his bloodstream through the gash, or if spending too many nights in the cold were catching up with him. Maybe the tropical heat, basically an incubator for bacteria, was to blame. He rummaged through the kit and found some penicillin tablets and washed them down with a gulp from his canteen.
Daniel wanted to explore the area further, wanted to see if he could find his furtive visitor from the night before, but making the short trek to the small stream he found the day before would likely take all the energy he would be able to muster.
Forcing himself to stand and trying to ignore how alarmingly rubbery his legs felt, Daniel made the walk through the underbrush, consciously avoiding the graveyard�he'd seen all he wanted to see of it. He was distantly aware of Dazh following beside him. The animal looked up at Daniel with an expression almost like concern on its face every time Daniel faltered. With more effort than it seemed possible, Daniel stumbled down the slight incline, very nearly losing his balance, scrabbling at the rocks to right himself. His chest ached, his lungs felt obstructed, making it difficult to catch his breath. He leaned over the rocks, dipped his hand in the water and washed the sweat from his face and upper chest. He was too tired to do any more.
As he stood again and pulled himself up the rocks, his limbs started trembling with exhaustion. Daniel staggered back toward his camp, felt himself listing from side to side, his vision fading in and out as he walked. He felt a vague, dissociated sense of panic when he wasn't sure if he was going in the right direction.
His vision edged with black, reducing his line of sight to a narrow hazy tunnel. He could hear his ragged breathing seemingly coming from far away, as if someone else was making the sound. Sweat dripped into his eyes, fuzzing everything to a stinging blur of green. His fingers, all of a sudden, were clutching at the grass and brush on the ground, and he wondered when his legs had given out. It occurred to Daniel that he could die where he fell, joining the others in the clearing somewhere nearby.
Maybe the dead had come to claim him after all.
*****
Daniel opened his eyes, and saw a corpse sitting propped up across from him. The corpse's eyes were fixed on him, watching him. Daniel wondered if he were in some sort of purgatory, and wasn't surprised when the corpse's eyes blinked, flickered with a spark of recognition. Of judgement.
Daniel supposed he was dead. He was floating, everything was a haze. Sha're's face flitted in and out of his line of vision. Speaking to him, telling him to wake up, open his eyes, try to drink some water. Sometimes his parents were there. His mother calling him, telling him to come inside now, or he would be in very big trouble. Tucking him in bed, telling him one of his favorite stories, gently stroking his long hair from time to time as she spoke. His father kneeling down beside him, showing him how to tie his shoelaces. Jack leaving him behind on Klorel's ship, laying a hand on Daniel's cheek before abandoning him to his fate. Jack�s voice breaking through the madness and pain of withdrawal, of need so great, Daniel would do anything to make it stop. But that wasn�t right. Jack wasn�t dead. Jack shouldn�t be here.
God, he was so hot. Burning as if a fire was consuming him from within. He saw the apparition of the woman with the quicksilver eyes looming over him. He knew she was truly a figment of his imagination, because he wasn't in the forest anymore. She probably had been a product of his hopes and loneliness all along. Maybe she was even a spirit watching over her ancestors and had come to appraise him that one night by his campfire. Or maybe she was his guide to the netherworld, come to show herself to him, readying him for his journey.
He was lying on something soft, but his bones still hurt, everything hurt so much. He heard a soft, agonized moan. Wasn't sure if he had made the sound, or not. His hazy surroundings were cast in a muted reddish light. Her strange eyes studied him, her lips moved, but he couldn't comprehend the words.
Daniel's blurry gaze flicked to the back corner, saw the corpse's dark eyes look him up and down, a slight movement of its hand. Judging.
Daniel closed his eyes and feared the sentencing of his soul.
*****
The fire had been replaced with ice. He couldn't stop shivering, shook so hard his muscles throbbed, his teeth and jaw ached from their relentless chattering, but at least with the cold came coherence. Slowly, he managed to pull his eyes open, wondered where he was. Maybe the gate had pitched him into another ice age planet. Maybe the power to his apartment had gone off again because he hadn't had the money to pay his bill, maybe�
"Kaifa halak?"
The soft voice startled him. He tried to focus his gaze, force his eyes to fix on where he thought the sound had come from. The voice spoke again, sounding closer, a moving blur became clearer to form the shape of a woman. She looked at him, frowning in concern. Her gray eyes focused intently on his.
Daniel remembered those eyes. The eyes of the spirit. The eyes that had followed him into his dreams.
"W-where... am I?"
"Ana ma fehempt," she said, shaking her head, her frown deepening at Daniel's words he hadn't intended to speak aloud. He realized he had spoken English�that was why she couldn't understand him, but he was too exhausted to try to think in any other language. He tried to force his lips to form the words, tried to make his resisting brain form the correct synapses, but the darkness was trying to steal him back into its fathomless depths, making everything seem far away, like his surroundings belonged to someone, sometime else.
She touched his face gently, laying the back of her hand against his cheek, testing the warmth of his skin. He jerked his head away with a sharp gasp. Couldn't tell if her hand was too hot or too cold�either way, it had sent an unpleasant jolt almost like pain through him.
She spoke again, reached for a cloth and stroked it across his forehead. Daniel tried to pull away again but she took gentle hold of his chin, kept him from fighting her. He flinched, a low moan escaped his lips when she placed the wet cloth on his brow, leaving it to cool, or warm his tortured skin. His nerve endings were far too over-sensitized to recognize the distinctness of his misery. He groaned, tried to shift his position, to ease the ache of his skin, of his bones, but none of his limbs were listening to him.
She rearranged the piles of blankets under his head and upper body. Daniel let out a soft cry at the pain searing through his head at the motion. She spoke again and Daniel watched her lips moving for a while until the pain eased, the sounds started to register, and the foreign but familiar syllables made sense again.
"You are very ill," she said. "You must allow me to help you."
Daniel hazily remembered falling in the woods, remembered that he hadn't been feeling well. Was it possible she truly was real, tangible?
He reached out his hand, saw how badly it trembled. His skin looked too white, even with the deep tan. The limb felt leaden, but he was determined to make sure this time. He blindly managed to grasp her arm, just above the wrist. She looked surprised, but held still. Daniel tried to tighten his fingers around her arm, to feel the warmth and solidity of her flesh, but it was so hard to get his fingers to obey. She seemed to understand what he was doing and laid her other hand over his, squeezed his fingers in a gentle but firm grip.
"You... you are r-real?" he managed to whisper in the Egyptian variant, not too weary to be pleased he had been able to accomplish that much.
She smiled and nodded. Squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Yes, I am real. I am here."
"It's s-so c-cold... in here," he told her, his teeth chattering to further illustrate his statement. "How... did I... I gg-get here?" he said. "Wh-where... are we?"
"You are in my home. You are safe, but you are very ill," she said. "You have the fever that has taken my people. You must fight against the spirits that call to you and hold onto this life. Do you understand?"
Daniel nodded. Yes, he knew he was sick and yes, he knew death was near, and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and go back to sleep, didn't want to feel this cold, this misery anymore. Before he did that though, there was something he could do. Something...
He forced his gaze past her, ignored the corpse still propped in the corner. He wanted to ask her why she shared her home with a corpse, but that would have taken all his minimal strength and waning cognition. Finally spotting what he was looking for, Daniel said, "Can you...please b-bring me... m-my... my pack? The...the bag over there," he whispered, trying to jerk his head in the direction, clenching his teeth at the instant jolt of pain.
She glanced over and brought his pack as requested, placing it beside him. He reached into it, fumbling until he found the square box. Pulling it out with effort, the box slipped from his tenuous grip and dropped to the floor. She retrieved it and laid it beside him. Daniel had to ask her to open the medkit for him, then he felt around inside it until he found the foil sheet of penicillin tablets. He had no idea if it would help, but it couldn't hurt at this point, could it?
Grasping the foil with both hands, straining to see, he was far too exhausted to raise his head, Daniel groaned in frustration when he couldn't push the pills through their blister-sealed packaging.
She took the sheet from his hand and looked at him, uncertain. "Push t-two of�of them out, and g-give me... th-them... please," he told her, surprised he could still think that far. She followed his directions and handed him the tablets. Daniel nearly dropped the pills on the way to his mouth but managed to push them past his chattering teeth, barely tasting the bitterness as they started to dissolve on his tongue. His mouth was so dry he couldn't swallow.
She reached for a wooden cup, raised Daniel's head, and helped him sip from it. He started coughing after one swallow, his congested lungs searing and burning. Most of the water ended up dribbling down the sides of his face and his chin, sending renewed shivers through his aching bones. She quickly wiped the water away, and when she lowered his head to the softness underneath him, the dark had already reclaimed him.
*****
shushshushshushshushshush....
Daniel felt the air stirring around him. A faint breeze of motion, a steady, continuous sound in his ears. He wondered if he was back in the forest with the hush of the waves all around him. Wondered if he had been dreaming when he'd spoken to the woman. He couldn't remember what they had talked about, but he remembered her holding onto his hand.
shushshushshushshushshush....
He pulled his eyes open, turned his head in the direction of the repetitive sound. The corpse�no, he realized that the man moving restlessly beside his bed wasn't a corpse, after all. Unless the man had achieved reaching the afterworld, bringing Daniel with him.
The shushing sound continued, and Daniel realized that the noise came from the man's soft moccasins dragging on the ground as he paced. Five steps forward, turn, five steps back, turn, only to do it over and over again. The man's eyes were upturned, vacant. His mouth moved in a repetition of inaudible syllables, his fingers danced in a staccato of rhythm only he could hear.
Daniel tried to moisten his lips, and winced. They were chapped and blistered. When he tried to speak to the man, his voice came out as a hoarse gasp. Daniel felt as if he'd been hit by a truck, shot by a staff blast and going through sarcophagus withdrawal simultaneously. He was amazed that he could feel this bad and still be alive. He desperately wanted a glass of water, but the waiting cup was set on a roughly carved wooden table, beyond his reach.
Daniel eased himself onto his side, gasping with exertion. He strained his arm to reach, his fingertips just touched the rim of the cup. He tried to edge it closer, shifting his body further toward the edge of the piles of blankets that served as his bed.
Almost got it, he thought with a trace of triumph as he pulled the cup closer. He curled his fingers tighter and cursed when the cup tipped over, the water spilling over his hand and onto the floor. Daniel dropped his head, rested his forehead on his arm and tried to catch his breath. He wasn�t sure if he blacked out for a moment or not, but he stirred when he felt something nudge his shoulder. He looked up into the now almost clear eyes of whom he had deliriously thought of as a dead man.
The man handed Daniel the refilled cup he had been struggling so hard to reach. Daniel mouthed a 'thank you,' his throat too parched to get the words out. He wasn�t sure if he�d said it in English, Egyptian or Chinese, for that matter, but he was fairly certain the man understood, regardless of the actual words.
Propping himself on his elbow, Daniel held the cup between both shaking hands and gulped the water down. The cup slid from his grasp after a few sips, spilling water onto the blankets and on his chest. Falling back against the pillow, he was too exhausted to care that he was lying in the water, that his shirt was wet against his skin. He realized after a moment that the coolness felt good, soothing.
He jumped when he heard a thumping sound coming from behind him, the creaking of something opening, then closing with a hollow thud.
"You are awake," a woman's voice said in Egyptian, sounding surprised.
Daniel turned his head, saw the woman whose face had been flitting in and out of his consciousness for the past who knew how long. "Yes... apparently," he said, looking at her uncertainly.
She set down the bundle of leaves and berries she'd been carrying and perched beside him. She laid her hand on his cheek and frowned when she noticed the wet stains on Daniel's shirt.
He glanced down at his chest. "I guess I spilled," he said, wondering why he found it necessary to explain his wet clothing to a possible hallucination.
"You are looking much better." She smiled. "Would you like some more water? It seems as if more ended up on you, than in you."
Daniel looked into the remarkable eyes and nodded. He allowed her to hold the cup for him as he took a few more sips. He heard the shushing sound again. The man had resumed his pacing. The woman hardly seemed to notice though, as if she were accustomed to it.
She followed his gaze and watched the man briefly, then smiled at Daniel again. "Do not be concerned with Jehiah, he is quite harmless. His mind walks with the spirits, yet his body remains bound here."
Daniel frowned, blinking tiredly. "He gave me a glass of water."
"He did?" She looked surprised. "He must like you. Jehiah has a very kind heart when he is able to join this world every once in a while. He does not like to be confined inside�that is why he is so restless. He likes to wander and I did not want him to become lost because I have been unable to watch him."
As he listened to her speak, Daniel noticed that her accent was different from the Abydonians, but he could still understand her if he concentrated. He focused on the nearness of her. Felt the warmth radiating off her body, her slight weight pressing down the blankets beside him and the strange sense of unreality gradually eased. He finally allowed himself to believe that she was real and that he truly was in some kind of hut. Not floating in a netherworld purgatory.
He saw that the bandage on his left arm was smaller, the cut nearly healed, pink scar tissue peeking out from underneath the white. He wondered how long he had been out of it, helpless under her care. Wondered how she had managed to get him here on her own. Daniel flicked the tip of his tongue against his dry lips, wincing again at the sting.
She noticed his discomfort and reached for a small clay pot on the table. Dipping her finger in the pot, she then gently daubed at Daniel's lips, coating them with a gel-like substance, almost like aloe. She added a little extra gel to the deep split in the center of his lower lip, a sliver of dried blood still covering the tear. The substance felt cool and soothing as aloe, as well, almost instantly easing Daniel�s pain. Setting the pot aside again, she stood and went to the back corner of the room.
Daniel noticed with some surprise creeping through his exhaustion the stone carved icon of the eye of Horus which sat propped on a small shelf filled with seashells and brightly colored clay pots. The same symbol Catherine had given him as a luck charm to take to Abydos.
So many reminders of home, he thought, wondering at the significance of them, trying to discern the emotions filling him. So many different homes he�d had, too many to ever feel any sense of permanence. Daniel watched as she returned holding a soft-looking garment in her hand.
Setting the cloth beside her, she said, "I will help you put on something drier."
She eased Daniel's damp T-shirt off him, then pulled the soft shirt over his head, working his arms into the sleeves. His limbs were too leaden to offer her any assistance and his mind too exhausted to feel any fear or dismay over his helplessness. He simply watched while her hands manipulated his limbs, and found the experience of being so helpless in her care somehow comforting.
"Now that the fever has broken, we must keep you warm," she explained, pulling the leather strips at the neckline and tying them loosely. She then eased away the damp blanket and re-arranged the rest of the layers of blankets around and underneath him.
"Thank you," Daniel said, finding himself needing to sleep again, but he fought against it. Not yet, he thought. He'd been hovering in and out of the past, present and the imagined for far too long. "I do not even know your name," he said as the realization hit him.
"I am Noelani, and that is Jehiah, as you already know." She waved an arm in the man's direction, then tucked the blankets snug around Daniel's shoulders. "I do not know your name, either."
"Daniel." He swallowed, his throat still felt sore, scratchy. "I thought I was all alone on this planet. All those bodies..."
Noelani nodded. "Jehiah and I are the only ones left. And now you." Her face took on a somber expression. Her eyes clouded with shadows of the past.
"What happened to everyone?"
"The fever took them. I feared it would take you as well, but you are slowly getting well. Perhaps you did not have the same fever, but your spirit is strong," she said, taking hold of his hand. "You must rest now, Dan-i." She frowned stumbling over the unfamiliar name and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
The touch of her hand on his was soothing, making him feel safe for some reason he couldn't quite define. "Heavenly sky," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open.
She looked at him frowning in confusion.
"That's what your name means," Daniel said, hearing his voice slurring with exhaustion. "Heavenly sky."
Kind of fitting, he realized, seeing as he'd first thought she was an apparition, a spirit. He saw her smile at his words, apparently pleased by them. He watched Jehiah pace relentlessly behind her, the man's motions and the sounds of his feet strangely hypnotic. Daniel allowed his heavy eyelids to flutter shut, his senses dulled until there was nothing left but the sound following him into sleep.
shushshushshushshushshush....
*****
Daniel sat on the sun-warmed rocks with his chin tilted toward the sky, his eyes closed, the dual suns warming his face, tingling the delicate skin of his eyelids. He listened to the calming sounds of the endless waves crashing over the rocks below his dangling feet. The air smelled clean, with the underlying tang of sea life and salt.
The sheltered, tide pool strewn beach was only a short walk from the hut, but the activity had exhausted him. Daniel wrapped his arms around his chest, pulling the soft shirt tighter against his body. Despite the warmth of the day, he still felt cold, his limbs still ached with a dull throb, he was still plagued by an insistent cough, but all those discomforts were welcome ones. They told him he was still alive.
"There you are."
He opened his eyes to see Noelani looking down at him. She held a cup of tea in her hands.
"I thought you might be here," she said with a smile. "You like the water as much as Jehiah does." She leaned forward, handed him the blue-fired clay cup, pressing it in both Daniel�s hands.
"Thank you." Daniel gratefully felt the warmth seep into his cold fingers. The aroma of mint and something sweet wafted from the cup. All sensations seemed overly acute. Every smell, sound and taste almost something to be relished. He wondered just how near death he had come.
Noelani moved to head back to the hut, but Daniel turned to look up at her. "Sit with me for a minute?"
She seemed surprised, then nodded and positioned herself beside him on the warm rock. Noelani watched his profile for a moment. "You look better. The color is returning to your face."
"I am feeling much better." Daniel gave her a shy smile. "Thank you. For... for taking care of me."
"You are welcome."
Daniel gazed at the water again, squinting against the brightness of the light reflecting off the green depths. She was right�he did like the water. Strange, because he had always been drawn to sand and the dry heat of deserts. Maybe this water reminded him of home, the rush of the waves such a familiar sound. It was one sound that was the same.
He looked into his cup, the tea rippled in his trembling grasp and he could see the event horizon in its blue depths. Maybe the vision was only a manifestation of how greatly he wanted to go home, because he was fairly certain he�d never again see a working Stargate. He pulled his thoughts from that, concentrated on the suns warming him, renewing his strength.
"The suns feels good," he told her. "It is good to have someone to talk to again, as well."
Noelani nodded. "Yes, it is. Jehiah is not much for talking anymore."
Daniel turned his head at the undisguised sorrow in her voice. She looked out at the water as he had, her expression difficult to read.
"Have you been alone with Jehiah a long time?"
She nodded, tucked her long hair behind her ear. "How did you come to be here, Dani?"
"Well," he paused to collect his thoughts for a moment. "It is a long story."
Noelani ducked her head for a moment, then smiled shyly at him, her straight, white teeth bright against her olive skin. "I have plenty of time, and it has been a long while since I have heard a story. I would like to hear it, if you would like to tell it."
Daniel returned her smile, took a sip from his tea and began to tell the tale of how one linguist/archaeologist had come to be marooned on a planet with 'a spirit,� �a walking corpse� and �a Slavic sun god' masquerading as an alien creature.
*****
"Jehiah, try to listen to me, okay?" Daniel said, hoping to somehow reach the old man. The man�s vacant expression gave him an innocence and softness of features that belied his age. His waning cognition reverted him even further to a childlike state. The older man muttered incomprehensibly, shaking his head in anger, as if Daniel were willfully denying him the object of his desire.
"If you show me what it is you want, I can help you," Daniel said, trying to meet the man's shifting gaze, trying to still the restless motions with his own calm demeanor.
Noelani looked up from the shirt she was mending. She was surprised at Daniel's patience with Jehiah. Sometimes she found herself wondering what malediction had been inflicted on her and Jehiah to be designated as the sole survivors of her entire people. Sometimes, she was ashamed to admit to also wondering what curse had deigned her to be left alone with one so afflicted for the remainder of her days. Jehiah was old, but his state of mind went further than the gradual deterioration of age. He had been cursed with the malady of his spirit dying before his body was ready.
Noelani sometimes felt that even with Jehiah�s presence, she still had been very much alone for a very long time. At first, she had been frightened of Daniel, but she�d come to realize that his arrival had been as much a blessing to her as it had probably been a stroke of bad luck for the tall, blue-eyed man.
Jehiah turned away from Daniel, started the pacing that always seemed to be the only outlet for his frustration, still mumbling, some words audible, but making no sense in any context.
Daniel glanced over at Noelani and shrugged in resignation. "I'm sorry. I thought I could find out what he wanted."
Noelani looked at him. "You have a very good way with him, but sometimes it is difficult to make him understand and for us to understand him."
Daniel nodded. "Sometimes he is almost coherent. This must be very frustrating for him. I wish I could better communicate with him, though."
"I have learned to guess much of what he wants, but many times it is very difficult..." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged.
Dazhbog clambered down from his perch in a tree, deciding it was safe to come out again. The creature was nervous around Jehiah�whenever he became upset or agitated, Dazh would flatten his ears and make for the nearest hiding spot. The animal wove through Daniel's feet as he walked up to Noelani's perch in front of the hut, and Daniel had to watch his step, careful not to tread on one of the tiny paws.
"Dazh, knock it off, will ya?" he muttered, irritated, speaking in English without realizing it. He sat down cross-legged near Noelani.
Noelani gave Daniel a shy smile, then glanced briefly at Dazh before returning her gaze to her mending. For the first few days after she had found Daniel and had dragged him back to her hut on a travois, the creature had huddled outside her home, whimpering and crying to be let in. She had finally relented and taken pity on the animal, allowing him to come inside. Dazh had curled up close to Daniel�s bed, reluctant to leave his side except for when Noelani set a bowl of food outside. She�d been touched by its loyalty to Daniel, had never know that the familiar creatures of the forest could become so fond of a human. She watched Dazh scampering over Daniel�s boots and smiled again when Daniel spoke once more to the animal in that strange language.
"You are most unusual Dani," she said. "Speaking in different tongues, and to the creatures of the forest as if they too, can understand you."
Daniel blinked at her, uncertain how to respond to that. He wasn't sure if it was an insult or a compliment. "Well, that's what I do," he tried to explain. "Back on my world, and the worlds I traveled to, I mean. I communicate with people, try to understand them. Learn about their cultures and their languages."
Noelani frowned, tried to comprehend this idea of other worlds existing beyond her own small one. If Daniel hadn't appeared out of nowhere, and his belongings weren't so unfamiliar, so unfathomable, she would have scoffed at this idea of other lands. She thought of when Daniel had been lost in the fever. Many strange words had come from his mouth. She had thought they were ravings, but perhaps they were the other tongues of which he spoke. "You have been to many other worlds?"
Daniel nodded, his blue eyes lighting with renewed excitement. "Yes, it... it's amazing. There is so much to see, to learn. Sam used to always say-"
Daniel abruptly cut off his words. Looked down at Dazh batting playfully at his boots. He kept his eyes averted from Noelani, pursed his lips, his fingers plucking at a loose thread on his pants.
"Dani?"
He gave her a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Nothing. It's not important."
"You must greatly miss your home," she said, her voice soft.
Daniel glanced at her through the shelter of his thick eyelashes. "Yes," he admitted. "I do... sometimes."
"Perhaps one day you will find a way to return."
Daniel reached down to rub at the soft fur on the top of Dazh's head, his expression pensive. "Maybe."
The forest was suddenly quiet, save for the ceaseless ocean sounds that had almost become part of Daniel�s being. Jehiah had stopped muttering, he realized. The old man had sat down against a tree, his body perfectly still, eyes fixed straight ahead, eerily reminding Daniel of the corpse he once thought he was.
"Will you tell me more of your world, someday?" Noelani asked, quiet, tentative.
Daniel looked away from Jehiah to the expression of hope and interest on her face. He wasn't sure if she truly was curious about his world, or if she was merely trying to cheer him up. Either way, he found he appreciated her effort.
"I can tell you of it now... if you like," he offered. Maybe he would miss home less if he allowed himself to talk about it. He smiled at her eager answering nod. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything," she said, and settled herself more comfortably as Daniel nodded, then began to speak. He decided to start with the beginning. Well, with his own particular beginning. Where he'd come into the universe, where his view of his world had taken shape.
"I was born in a place called Cairo," he said. "I arrived in the world three weeks early, so my parents weren�t properly prepared. In fact, I was nearly born on a dig�that�s a place where you look for traces of the past. Things that people have left behind long after they have died," he explained and Noelani nodded, so he continued. "I�ve lived in many places in my life, but somehow, Cairo, is still special to me. Far outside of the city, the sand goes on forever�like a golden, rippled sea. The pyramids around Cairo," he paused and steepled his hands to demonstrate the shape, "are so incredibly high you have to tilt your head back to see the very top of them. When I was a little boy, I used to think the pyramids could touch the moon and the stars at night."
Noelani stared at him, eyes wide with fascination. Daniel remembered that look from when he�d been on Abydos. The Abydonians could never get enough of Daniel�s stories of Earth. He smiled, remembering the mingled expressions of adoration and awe on their faces as he told them the tales and mythologies of his world. He had been their storyteller, their source of wonders. The willing giver of the gift of knowledge and a world never before imagined.
Seeing that familiar expression on Noelani�s face helped ease his sense of loss, helped him forget for just a little while, as he continued to tell her of that place that had seemed so magical to him as a child.
*****
"Jehiah!" Daniel paused, cocked his head slightly to one side to listen. Nothing but the rush of the waves, the leaves rustling through the trees and the startled ceasing of the insect whirrs at his shout. The cessation of their relentless songs made the forest seem preternaturally quiet. The first sun had already set, the second one becoming lower, casting the world in a deep violet-tinged twilight.
"Jehiah, answer me!" Daniel called again. This was the longest they had been unable to locate the older man. Noelani had already berated herself for not watching him more closely, knowing Jehiah's tendency to wander off, unable to find his way back on his own. She and Daniel had split up to better their chances of finding him. If it became dark before they found him, Daniel feared Jehiah would have to spend the night alone in the cold and dark.
Daniel worked his way toward the nearby beach, hoping Jehiah had returned to his favorite spot on a smoothed, eroded rock facing the waves. He paused at the tree-lined rocky edge, glanced down, unconsciously holding his breath and praying he wouldn't see the older man laying sprawled and injured across the rocks. His eyes scanned the shoreline. Seashells, bits of driftwood. He climbed down the short incline to the beach, dodged the random tide pools�plant life, tiny fish and mollusks trapped in the carved-out depths like miniature worlds.
"Jehiah!" Daniel paused, took in a worried breath, then finally, he saw something beige amidst the dull steel gray and black of the landscape. A shirt.
He rushed closer, not noticing that his boot splashed in one of the more shallow tide pools. When he reached Jehiah, the old man's eyes were closed, the sockets so sunken and shadowed they appeared empty. Daniel laid his hand on Jehiah's thin chest, unsure of what to expect. He felt the man's heart thudding in an uneven rhythm through the leather shirt, and let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Jehiah? Are you all right?" He tapped at the old man's cold face gently, and after a moment, the creased weary eyes opened, regarded him. Jehiah blinked in confusion.
"Ilias?" The voice was breathless, faint and barely audible over the waves. Jehiah blinked at him again. "Why are you still awake? It is late."
Daniel noticed Jehiah shivering in his thin shirt. "It's Daniel, Jehiah. Come on, let's get you back home, okay?" He took hold of Jehiah's arm, gently tried to coax him to stand.
Jehiah nodded. "Your mother will be worried about us. She worries so, even though you are no longer so little." Jehiah allowed Daniel to help him, and he leaned heavily against Daniel for support. His feet skidded on the loose rock, and Daniel had to wrap his arm around Jehiah's waist to keep him upright as he led him off the beach.
The older man stumbled and Daniel tightened his grip on him. Jehiah glanced up at Daniel, looking at him as if he'd just noticed him for the first time. "Ilias? It has been so long since I have seen you." He stopped walking, reached up, patted Daniel's cheek and smiled at him, his dark eyes glistening with tears.
Daniel returned the older man's smile, felt his heart wrench a little and allowed the man his fantasy and the small comfort it gave him. "I know," he said. "Let's get you home. Noelani's worried about you."
Jehiah nodded. "She worries so. She is a fine girl. Eyes just like that foreign demon that came here. Poor girl to have inherited those strange colored eyes."
Daniel frowned at Jehiah's words. He half-carried the exhausted man up the incline, led him into the rapidly darkening forest. "What do you mean?"
"Flavian�the one with yellow hair, eyes like the rain. He came from nowhere, but left his mark, he did. Noelani is all that is left of that mark."
"Jehiah, do you mean someone came here, from another place... a...another world?" Daniel said, surprised. He felt a twinge of excitement in the pit of his stomach, but forced himself to remain calm so he wouldn�t upset the old man.
Jehiah stared at Daniel, confusion and worry filling his pale features. "Have you seen Ilias? I must find him. It is growing late. His mother will be worried."
Daniel nearly sighed, realizing Jehiah's brief moment of awareness had passed. "Ilias is fine. You do not have to worry about him anymore," he reassured the man, feeling a faint pang of guilt, but he knew Jehiah would forget his false words in a few minutes, anyway. His thoughts turned over what Jehiah had said as they walked. He saw the glow of firelight up ahead�they were almost at the hut.
As they neared the hut, Noelani flew out from inside to meet them. "Jehiah!" She all but gathered the old man in her arms, and rushed him toward the door. "I am so sorry, Jehiah, I did not see you walk away. You must not do that anymore," she scolded gently. Glancing over her shoulder she said, "Thank you for finding him, Dani!"
Daniel followed them into the welcoming warmth inside, but he hardly noticed the chill that had seeped into his bones. A demon, Jehiah had said. Could he have meant the Goa'uld?
*****
Jehiah had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head touched his pillow. They listened to his strained breathing from behind the curtain that separated his bed from the rest of the hut.
Daniel held a bowl of fish stew in his hands. It smelled wonderful, but his appetite seemed to have left him. He stirred the various foreign vegetables, the pieces of fish in the bowl, frowning, lost in thought.
"Dani?" Noelani's voice broke in as if from far away. "Is it not to your liking?"
He glanced up, blinked at her. "What?"
"Your food. Is it not to your liking?" she repeated.
"No�um... yes. I mean, it is delicious, I was just thinking about something Jehiah said."
"What did he say to you?"
Daniel stared into the stew for a moment before answering her question with another question. "Did Jehiah have a son named Ilias?"
Noelani glanced down, nodded. "Yes. Ilias was his youngest son. He still talks of him the most of all his sons. When everyone became sick with the fever, Ilias and my brother, Aleron, set out in the sea to find others, to see if they could find help, or medicine. They did not know what lay out there, but they were willing to take the chance."
"Did they find anyone?"
Noelani shook her head. "I do not know. They never returned. There is legend that another land and another people lay beyond the sea. Some of us believed it, others thought it was the foolish talk of the young and the romantic. Perhaps it is true, you are proof that there is much more out there than this place." She paused to take a breath, her brow creasing in a frown. "Jehiah and Ilias's older brothers were angry with him for wanting to leave his people when they were in need, so Ilias and Aleron stole away in the night. They told no one but my mother who they knew would not stop them. That is why Jehiah still waits. He hopes one day his favorite son will come back."
Daniel wondered what fate had befallen the two men, and if the legends were true. He wondered if this 'demon' Jehiah had mentioned possibly came from that mythical place. "He uh, he also... talked about 'a demon' with eyes the same color as yours," Daniel said, hesitant, watching her reaction carefully. "Do you know what he meant?"
Noelani blushed, self-conscious, and let out a soft humorless laugh. "He speaks of my great grandfather. Flavian, his name was."
Daniel nodded. "Yes, he said that name. What do you know of him?"
Noelani shrugged. "Not much. It was said that he came to be here much as you did. One day, he was... just here. He found our people, came to live among them. He was called a demon for the way his eyes would sometimes seem to be lit from within. Sometimes, when he spoke, he would sound as if the voice of the very gods were speaking through him. He was the one who first spoke of another land, and another people past the sea, though few believed him. After a while, the people of my village came to accept him, although they still feared him."
"What happened to him?" Daniel leaned forward, watching her intently, his thoughts racing, and he felt his heartbeat begin to accelerate. From Noelani�s description, Flavian sounded too much like a Goa'uld for his liking.
"He disappeared as swiftly as he came and was not heard from again. But not before he left one of the women with child. My great grandmother. She was scorned for taking with the demon and was never able to marry. My own mother was dismayed when she saw that I had the same eyes as the 'demon.' She was relieved to discover that I could not light them from within, though." Noelani gave him a rueful smile.
Daniel tried to analyze the information, the realization that shouldn't surprise him. It was possible that the gate may have been on solid land back then�allowing a foreigner to come to the planet without warning. Seeing the influences in the artwork, the statue of Amun, Noelani's dialect, the eye of Horus which always seemed to watch him with an impassive gaze from its perch on the shelf were all things that clearly indicated Earth, or Goa'uld influences.
What did surprise him was a Goa'uld possibly choosing to live among humans, conceiving a child with one of them. He supposed it wasn't the same as conceiving a Harcesis, seeing as the mother had been fully human, but Noelani's words still brought the sudden image of Sha're's child into startling, painful focus. The memory of his tiny hand curling around Daniel's finger, gazing up at him with complete trust as Daniel held him in that amazing, seemingly mythical temple on Kheb.
Noelani mistook Daniel's silence for disapproval, or maybe even pity. "I always hated my eyes," she said, inferring Daniel's thoughts, her voice soft. She shrugged, trying to make her words sound casual. "When I was a little girl, I hoped that when I grew up and became a woman, they would turn dark like the others, and that I would not be teased anymore." she shrugged again, and glanced at Daniel's own eyes. "Yours are the first I have seen that are more unusual than mine. The color of caerule blossoms."
Daniel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and forced his thoughts back to the present. "I never liked my eyes either. The children on my world used to tease me about my glasses and because I was different from them, too." Daniel met her gaze, realized the sorrow within her, saw the sadness softening her features. "I think you have beautiful eyes, Noeli."
Noelani blinked as if startled and quickly averted her face, but not before Daniel saw the sudden tears.
"Did... did I say something to upset you?" Daniel asked, confused by her strong reaction.
She shook her head, blinked away the tears and swiped a hand over her face. "My... my mother always called me Noeli. I just have not heard that in so long. It surprised me, that is all."
"I am sorry-" He hadn't even realized he'd shortened her name.
"No, don't," she interrupted, then blushed, a hint of a smile passing her lips. "Do not apologize. I... I would like it if you would call me that... once in a while."
"Okay." Daniel looked down, hiding his shy smile, embarrassed and surprised by how pleased he was that he had caused her to blush and had given her a brief moment of happiness. He thought he was probably blushing as well, so he kept his eyes lowered and said, "I can do that."
Noelani watched him, finding her heart warming at his endearing gentleness. He reminded her of one she had lost so long ago, and felt the warmth in her heart being replaced with the wrenching memories of her people's suffering and demise. Of her own heartache.
"It is hard to believe they are all gone, sometimes," she said, almost to herself.
"You must miss your family and your people very much."
She nodded. "Have you ever lost anyone, Dani? Before you came to be here?"
Daniel nodded, met her tear-filled gazed. "Yes," he said, and looked down for a moment. "Yes, I have."
Noelani nodded again, as if she had sensed a common sorrow within him.
"When did everyone start getting sick?" Daniel asked, keeping his voice soft. She hadn't spoken much of her people's fates before this, and he knew he had to be careful not to dissuade her growing trust. "What happened?"
She set her bowl aside, appetite as diminished as Daniel's. "I do not know exactly how long ago anymore, but it has been at least five years from what I can guess." She stood, started slowly walking from one end of the room to the other, fingering the small decorations she had placed about to make the hut prettier. As she paced, she understood the comfort and distraction the motion gave Jehiah.
"Balint returned from hunting after having been gone for three days. He was ill, raving with fever. We did not know how he came to find his way home in such a state. He had terrible welts all over his skin, he was so hot we could scarcely touch him. He suffered for many days, could not keep anything in him, his lungs filled until he could no longer breathe. These were things we came to be very familiar with," she paused, took in a deep breath before continuing. "Even before Balint died, others started getting sick with the same fever. More died and there was nothing we could do to stop it." She paused at the eye of Horus, seeming to seek its strength.
The irony of the symbol's meaning of regeneration, health and prosperity struck Daniel. He wondered if she knew what Horus signified. Probably not, because if she did, she likely would have thrown the symbol into the ocean for the little help it had offered her people.
"We did not know what to do," she said after a long, silent moment. She turned to glance at Daniel, as if judging his reaction. "I do not know why only Jehiah and I were spared."
"I'm so sorry. That must have been terrible for you," Daniel said, although he knew there were no words that could offer her any repose, any comfort, even after all this time.
She nodded anyway, resumed her slow perusal of the room she had seen thousands of times. "Yes, but their spirits are free," she said in a voice that sounded as if she had practiced telling herself those words too many times until she had nearly come to believe them.
Daniel understood. He had told himself similar reassurances since he was eight and even still, he had to once in a while remind himself of what he hoped was his family's and now Sha're's salvation and peace. For what little comfort it gave him.
He watched as Noelani ducked her head, her long hair hiding her face. She paused at the corner where her bed and personal belongings lay, then decisively picked up a shawl, wrapped it tightly around herself. As she strode to the door, pulled it open, all the while keeping her back to Daniel, he heard the quietly spoken words. "I must check on something outside. Do not wait up for me."
"All right," Daniel said, but he did wait up for her and watch for her through one of the shuttered windows. He stayed up until he saw her steal into the hut a few hours later, moving soundlessly. She pulled the heavy curtain around her bed, and Daniel could just make out her silhouetted form slipping under the covers, then disappearing from sight. He thought he heard soft muffled sobs coming from her, but he wasn't sure. He didn't call to her, or check on her because he knew Noelani had been alone a long time and he understood her need to hold onto the safety and familiarity of that solitude a little longer.
He understood that need too well. He'd been doing the same thing for far too long, shutting everyone out as if he had been as alone as Noelani had. Stretching out on the primitive bedding and staring at the rough, patched ceiling, Daniel wondered if, shortly after Sha're's death, his friends had felt as helpless against his sequestered grief as he felt against Noelani's.
In the silence of common, yet not conjoined grief, Daniel listened to her uneven, muted breaths until they finally slowed, deepened and gave way to sleep. And then he waited for sleep to take him. Take him away from a sorrow he felt utterly powerless against.
*****
Daniel looked up from his journal at the burst of laughter coming from Noelani. She was sitting by the fireplace in the hut, playing peek-a-boo with Dazh, taking a break from her relentless sewing, grinding of seeds, mashing of leaves�her small hands never still. Daniel sometimes had to coax her to stop, to just sit and talk with him. He supposed she had adopted the restless motions due to boredom and loneliness in the past, and it was a difficult habit for her to break.
She handed Dazh a nut, giggled when he repeated his trick without prompting. She had become accustomed to the idea of having a creature of the forest as a pet, and was as taken with Dazh's antics and affectionate nature as Daniel was. Noticing Daniel watching her over his journal, she met his gaze and smiled at him before bashfully lowering her eyes.
Daniel returned her smile, surprised to find something stirring in him. Something he hadn't expected to feel for anyone ever again. He didn't count that brief interlude with Ke'ra. Then, he'd been too encapsulated within the fog and numbness of grief to fully realize what he had been doing, but this... this was something different. Something he couldn't yet define. Wasn't even sure if he even wanted to.
He broke the eye contact, looked down at his journal again, re-read what he had written to distract himself from such thoughts and sensations. Except, he found that no matter how many times his eyes started at the beginning of the sentence, the words would not stick in his mind.
It was hard to believe he'd been on the planet for over three months. He no longer felt that underlying sense of despair, but the despair had been replaced with a strange longing that incessantly niggled at him. Sometimes that feeling of longing frustrated�no, almost frightened him, he had to admit.
Since he'd found his pack and resumed writing in his journal, he'd recorded his observations of the planet, of Dazh, his loneliness and desperation to find the will to keep going, but he'd described those days like one serving a prison term.
I made it through one more day. Don't think of the next.
But since his recovery from his illness and this new existence he'd found with Noelani and Jehiah, he felt a renewed sense of hope. That his new life didn't have to be something to be endured. At the same time, he was unsure how to proceed. He felt in limbo, as if he were still waiting for something.
He closed the journal with an unintentionally loud snap that made Noelani jump and look at him with a questioning look on her face. Daniel stood from his cross-legged position on the floor, no longer able to ignore the restlessness, the indefinable sensations and emotions clouding his thoughts.
"Sorry," he said. "I did not mean to startle you. I'm going to go outside and get some fresh air. I need to be alone to be able to write, as well," he said, then winced inwardly at how his words had sounded. A brief look of hurt passed Noelani's features, but she quickly lifted her chin, fixed her expression in a semblance of disinterest and nodded.
Dazh batted his paw at her arm and squeaked, impatient to get on with their game. She redirected her attention to the little animal, patted Dazh's head and turned away from Daniel.
Daniel paused, uncertain, and watched her play with Dazh for a moment, then turned and headed for the door and stepped outside. He headed for the beach, for the water and the rushing sounds that always had the ability to calm him. He sat on Jehiah's favorite rock, watched the waves, breathed in the lush scents around him. When he felt that uneasy sensation begin to dissipate, felt his tense muscles start to relax, he opened his journal, balanced it on his lap and started to write.
He'd managed only a few paragraphs, when a shadow passed over his face and settled on the page, darkening the white paper to a shade of indigo. Glancing up at the clear, cloudless lavender sky, he realized that the first sun was beginning to set. Its rays shone on the shell-strewn beach, lighting everything aglow with beams of amber.
A large purple colored shell close to the water's edge gleamed with iridescent rainbow colors, setting it apart from the thousands of other shells on the rocky beach. Daniel placed his journal beside him on the rock, then stood and rescued the shell from being reclaimed by the sea. The shell was unbroken and fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. Its surface was washed smooth by the waves, the inside striped with blue, white and lilac mother-of-pearl luminosity.
The shell was deep enough to fill, and he thought that Noelani might like to have it. Daniel wondered what she was doing back in the hut. He supposed she would soon need help with making dinner. Jehiah sometimes demanded her attention just as she began a task, trying her remarkable patience.
Tucking the shell in his pocket, Daniel stepped over to the rock he had been using as a chair, picked up his book and headed back for the hut. Along the way, he collected an armful of kindling, recalling that they were getting low.
Ducking into the hut, he smiled at Noelani when she turned and looked at him, an unspoken question on her face. He dumped the kindling close by the fireplace and noticed Jehiah pacing behind her, muttering to her as she chopped some vegetables.
"You were not gone long. Is everything all right, Dani?" she asked, her brow creasing in slight, worried frown.
Daniel nodded. "Yes. Everything's fine. It looked as if it might rain soon, that is all," he said, unable to admit the truth. That he hadn�t wanted to be alone anymore. "Would you like some help?"
Noelani nodded again, let out an almost exasperated sigh. "If you could entertain Jehiah for a moment, I could finish this."
"Okay," Daniel agreed and moved to steer Jehiah away from under her feet. He suddenly remembered something. Reaching into his pocket, Daniel handed her the shell, feeling ridiculously embarrassed at the same time. His face felt about ten shades of red. "I... found this. Thought it might make a nice bowl, or something."
Noelani looked surprised and took the shell with both hands. She studied it for a moment, then gave Daniel a startlingly radiant smile. "Thank you, Dani. It is lovely."
He returned her smile, then Jehiah finally noticed him and shuffled over to Daniel, stared at him, asking Daniel who he was, where had he come from. He took hold of Daniel's arm in a tremulous grip, asking him if he'd seen Ilias and did he know when Ilias was coming back.
Daniel placed his arm around Jehiah's thin shoulders, directed the old man toward the fireplace, and spoke soft, meaningless reassurances. Daniel glanced back at Noelani, saw her place the shell amidst the small collection of her favorite trinkets on a shelf, lightly running her finger over the delicate colors once before returning to her work
*****
Over four months on the island, and Daniel found himself surprisingly, ridiculously homesick. In his entire time on Abydos, he'd never missed home. Not for a moment. Maybe because he had chosen to leave it, or because then, he had nothing to go back to�everything he needed or wanted was on the alien desert.
But this time, he missed his friends, he missed his work, missed his apartment and its conveniences. Missed coffee, the pleasure of sitting down to a meal with a glass of perfectly-aged wine. He even missed his fish, as ludicrous as that seemed to him. He missed his planet, his world, his life, he supposed.
He�d also dreamed of Sha�re the previous night. He remembered her watching him from far away but he could no longer see her features clearly. She was speaking to him, but he couldn�t hear her voice. Standing in the blowing, shifting sands, he�d made no motions to move closer to her, though he'd wanted to. He had woken in the morning feeling drained, a deep sadness slowing his motions, dulling his senses. The sadness, he supposed, was what had brought on the renewed homesickness.
He tried to distract himself from such futile longings by helping Noelani reinforce the small hut they shared. The roof looked precarious in places, and at night, wind sometimes snuck through the cracks, draughts of air tickling his face when he tried to sleep. As hard to believe as it was through the humid, stifling heat of the day, the winter season was coming. Noelani told him that it became very cold at night, and they had to prepare for it.
Daniel once suggested that he could move into one of the nearby empty huts to give her back her privacy, but the crestfallen look on Noelani's face made him drop the subject. She was slowly becoming less diffident, spoke more of herself and her people when Daniel prompted her, and he knew she had come to rely on his presence. The comfort of having someone she could talk to in her life again.
Over the past few weeks, Jehiah seemed to withdraw even further into himself, growing thinner and frailer with each passing day. Every motion was an effort, his breaths came in strained gasps when he walked any farther than the nearby beach. Much of the time, he thought Daniel was his long-lost son Ilias, and Daniel did nothing to dissuade the man from the comfort it gave him. Strangely enough, Daniel felt almost flattered that the man had taken so to him, even if it was merely for the attributes of one probably long-dead.
Daniel glanced up and noticed the older man looked distressed. He was rocking himself, wringing his hands. Daniel moved from his seat on a fallen log, and crouched beside Jehiah's perch under a tree. "Jehiah? You okay?"
The man ignored his words, hummed softly under his breath, his face pinched. The tune sounded vaguely familiar. Noelani started singing the same tune quietly as she shelled vegetables that vaguely resembled peas. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but heartbreakingly sweet. The sound of her voice seemed to calm Jehiah, and his features relaxed.
She glanced up, noticed Daniel watching her with a faint, but sad smile on his lips.
Noelani blushed, then returned his smile. "Jehiah sometimes likes it when I sing to him."
"My wife used to sing like that too, while she worked," Daniel told her. "I almost forgot about that." He realized that he had never even mentioned Sha're before when he saw the look of surprise pass Noelani's features.
"I did not know you had a wife," Noelani said, her voice careful. "You must worry about her and miss her greatly."
Daniel nodded. "I do... miss her, I mean." He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but wasn't sure if he had succeeded. He got up from the ground and returned to the log where he had previously been sitting and picked up the long chunk of wood resting against it. In between patching the roof, he was making a cane for Jehiah since the older man had been having such difficulty walking. Daniel was trying to decorate the cane, make it more esthetically pleasing by carving the handgrip into the shape of an eagle's head. He hoped the great bird's various symbolisms of messengers to the afterworld, of creation and strength would somehow be reassuring to the older man.
"I will always miss my wife," he continued, "she died close to a year ago, but I lost her long before then." Daniel looked down and missed the succession of looks of relief, guilt at that relief, then shared sadness on Noelani�s face.
"The one you spoke of when you said you had lost," Noelani said, nodding in understanding. She set the bowl of vegetables beside her. "When my husband was one of the first to be taken by the fever, I did not at first know what do�what to do without him. We had been betrothed since we were children. I had first thought we were cursed with being barren, but luckily, we never did have children. Children who would only have become lost, and rejoined with the spirits before they could grow old." She came to sit beside Daniel on the log and watched him work.
"You must miss your husband greatly, as well," Daniel said, glancing at her.
She nodded, her face solemn. Daniel looked down again, unable to meet the sorrow in her eyes. It somehow only exacerbated his own.
"How did your wife die, Dani?"
He kept his gaze fixed on his task, dug his knife into the pale wood, watched the muscles of his forearms flexing with the effort. The scar on his left arm was a jagged streak of white against the tanned skin. He was surprised how hard it still was to talk of Sha�re and what he thought of as his failure to protect her, but for some reason, he wanted to tell Noelani.
"Do you remember the Goa�uld�the demons, I told you about?" He saw her nod. "She was taken by them. They um... she was possessed by one of them."
"Oh..." He heard the soft articulation of surprise beside him.
Daniel scraped his hunting knife over the wood harder than intended, gouging a deep, thick chunk in the soft pulp. He cursed under his breath. "I... I tried to save her, but I couldn�t. I failed her. It was my fault what happened to her, and I..." He trailed off, the last few words were spoken so softly, he didn�t think Noelani had heard them. They were words he�d never dared speak aloud before, even to Sam or Jack. He wasn�t sure why he was revealing that failure�that truth to her. Maybe he hoped she�d understand even though he himself didn�t.
The other truth was that he�d been too busy trying to find her child to allow himself to think of Sha�re. Then, he�d been unable to sift through and make sense of his shattered emotions after that search for her child had ended, so he had forced himself to dive fully and completely into his work. So he wouldn�t have time to think of Sha�re. To properly grieve for her, as she deserved�another way of failing her, he knew. If he�d only done that, when he did talk about her, it wouldn�t be such an open, gaping wound anymore. Maybe if he�d done that, he could remember her the way she deserved to be remembered.
Everything�his work, his diversionary tactics, had all come to a screeching halt. In this place, all he had time to do was think. His mind churning with thoughts and recriminations he thought he had successfully closeted away forever in his subconscious.
He scraped the knife over the deep flaw he had made in the wood, tried to smooth the gouge, but it was too deep�the damage irreparable. Some scars went too deep to be hidden, he thought.
He felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Noelani leaned up against him, curled her small hand around his arm. He realized he must have stopped talking in mid-sentence, but she seemed to understand.
Daniel abandoned the knife and the wood, entwined the fingers of his other hand with her much smaller ones, felt the warmth of her body against his. In that moment, it was what he needed. What she needed too, he realized when she laid her head on his shoulder. They held onto each other, listened to each other's breaths, lost in their own regrets and memories of ghosts that still had such a grip on their hearts. They said nothing, but the contact, the shared sense of grief was a solace. It was enough.
It was enough, and that solace they were able to offer each other was something neither of them had ever anticipated being granted.
*****
The sounds of the wind howling, splashes of water against the wooden door startled Daniel awake. The small hut shook with the force of the wind and he sat up from his pallet of blankets on the floor, looked up at the ceiling and hoped it would hold. He'd spent the better part of the week patching and strengthening the roof.
Just in time, he thought, jumping at another rattle.
He heard Noelani murmuring to Jehiah, heard the old man's frightened gasping breaths.
"It is all right," Noelani soothed. "Only a storm. Remember the storms from last year, Jehiah? They will not harm us."
Jehiah ignored her, pushed past her, stumbling toward the door. He pulled on it, crying out in frustration when it wouldn't open. Another loud crash made them all jump. The shutters rattled against the unpaned windows. The wind howled like some distant pack of wolves.
Daniel jumped up from bed, pulled on his T-shirt and pants and went over to the old man and grasped his upper arm gently.
"Jehiah, you cannot go outside now," Daniel told the old man. "We are much safer in here."
"I must check the animals," Jehiah moaned. "Must..." He frowned, train of thought lost. He tried to pull away from Daniel, shaking his head with confusion. "Must..."
"Come, sit down, the animals are fine," Daniel said, and tried to ease the man away from the rattling door.
Jehiah glared at him angrily. "Ilias, you are still but a boy. Do not tell me what to do."
"I am sorry, but please stay here�I... I cannot sleep from the storms and we would feel safer if you stayed inside." Daniel said, recalling one of the numerous stories Jehiah had told of Ilias as a small boy.
"Yes, frightened," Jehiah nodded in agreement. "You would keep us all awake. Tell me a story, Father, you used to say. Such an indulged boy, you were. You were always so willful. I should not have indulged you so." Jehiah shook his head, regretful at his parental skills. How he had raised such a child, beyond him. He shook his head again and sent the boy a bruising look.
There was a sharp crack, causing them both to start and look up. A large piece of the roof lifted, flapped a few times in the gusts of wind, then dislodged. Daniel saw it turn end over end, disappearing into the night. A deluge of water poured into the gaping hole, wind rushed through the small hut, shaking the decorations on the shelves, rattling the pottery like old bones.
"Shit!" Daniel cursed. He rushed to the door.
"Dani?" Noelani called over the howls of the wind. "What are you doing?"
"I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder, fighting to keep the door from smashing into the inside wall of the hut once he released the latch. "Stay here with Jehiah, and lock the door behind me."
He pulled the door shut behind him, ducked under the onslaught. He reached for one of the shingles he'd prepared and climbed onto the roof. It was so low, he only had to stand on a stump to pull himself up, ducking his head against the water splashing in his face. He lay flat across the roof, held down the shingle with his arms to keep it from flying away.
Shoving the shingle under the others, he tried to weave it underneath the boards, hoping it would hold. He felt splinters gouge into his palms, the freezing pelts of rain flew into his eyes, obscuring his vision. He clambered back down, grabbed a heavy chunk of wood from the ground, hefted it onto the roof and pushed it over the makeshift repair job to keep it in place.
Climbing back down from the roof, panting with exertion and shaking from cold, Daniel banged on the door and waited for Noelani to open it for him. He ducked inside, holding onto the door and nearly tripping over Dazhbog darting in between his feet, seizing his opportunity to come in from the storm. The animal perched in front of the fireplace, now ablaze with fresh wood�an irresistible invitation to be warmed and dry. Dazh shook the water from his ears, licked his paws.
Noelani moved back to Jehiah, tried to comfort the old man who still swayed from side to side with distress, trembling.
Daniel shoved the door shut, put the bar back in place, locking it against the elements. Rain dripped from his hair, pools of water puddled around him. He quickly tugged off his wet shirt, shivering. Next came his drenched pants. He glanced up when he finally noticed that he had an audience. Jehiah stood watching him, wringing his hands, eyes wide. Noelani, however, watched him with a different expression.
Daniel felt his cheeks redden, realizing that he was standing at the door clad in only his drenched boxers that clung a little too closely to his body. He ducked his head at the same time she discreetly looked away, her olive complexion decidedly pink-tinged. He also finally noticed that he'd gone outside without his boots, and his bare feet were ice cold and coated with mud. Swiping his wet shirt over his feet, he cleaned off the mud as best he could. "I... uh, I'll be right back."
Ducking over to his corner of the hut and holding his balled-up shirt in front of him, he grabbed the leather shirt that Noelani had given him, tugged it on, then changed from his clinging, wet boxers into his cut-offs. He pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his waist. He was still shaking from the cold and wet, his hair dripping water onto his face. Padding over to the small fireplace giving off a welcome heat, he crouched as close as he could without burning himself.
Noelani stepped behind him, a thick cloth in her hand. She gently pressed the cloth against his dripping wet hair, catching the raindrops running down his neck and into his shirt. Daniel turned his head in surprise, and she stopped, suddenly uncertain.
She turned away, started to step toward Jehiah, paused, then turned again to face Daniel. "Here... this�here," she stammered, thrusting the cloth at him, ducking her head, embarrassed.
"Thank you." Daniel smiled at her, almost amused at how flustered she had become. He rubbed the cloth over his face, then swiped it over his head, drying the worst of the rain from his hair.
"Will it hold?" Noelani asked worried, looking up at the ceiling, trying not to bring attention to the fact that she was still blushing. Puffs of cold air darted in between the shingles, clattering noisily, but at least the water had stopped pouring in.
"I sure hope so," Daniel said, pulling an exaggerated wry face that made her smile. They both noticed that Jehiah had moved over to the far wall and huddled against it, rocking and moaning softly.
Daniel went to him, knelt in from of the old man. "Jehiah, come over to the fire where it is warm." He reached around the man and nearly lifted the unresisting thin frame and helped him sit on the chair by the hearth.
"Must go..." Jehiah whispered, swaying tremulously. Noelani sat beside him, laid a hand on his arm. Jehiah pulled away sharply�not wanting to be touched anymore. She lowered her arm, but stayed close, looking as distressed as Jehiah.
They all started at another loud rattle, then at an almost human sounding wail from the wind.
"It'll hold," Daniel said, glancing quickly at the ceiling again, hoping his words would hold true.
Jehiah started rocking faster, muttering incomprehensibly. Daniel wished there was something he could say to ease the man's fear. Something to take away the forlorn look marring Noelani's features. What had she told him helped calm Jehiah?
Daniel tried to remember the words to the song Sha're had always sung when she bustled around their home, Daniel listening with half an ear while he wrote in his journal. The tune, then the words came to him suddenly, and shyly�he'd never thought he had a good voice�Daniel sang the ancient words in a soft, pleasant baritone.
It was a song telling the listeners to follow their hearts wishes as long as they are alive, so that on their funeral day, their hearts will be tired and content and not hear the mourners surrounding their bodies, allowing their spirits to go freely to the afterworld.
Daniel watched Jehiah, saw his features relax incrementally, his rocking become less frantic. Daniel wondered if his words were comforting to the old man, helping him prepare for his imminent demise, or if they were merely pleasant words sung to a pleasant tune. A salve against the sting of fear.
Noelani had glanced at Daniel in surprise, then smiled, let the sound of his voice wash over her. Jehiah's mutterings slowly eased, then stopped. He still rocked, but his motions slowed to be in time with the gentle cadence of the tune. After a few verses, Jehiah picked up the melody and hummed along in a perfectly sonorous tenor.
Jehiah kept humming the song long after Daniel's soft voice trailed off. Daniel's eyes met Noelani's, and the sounds of the storm seemed far away. She met his gaze full on, unabashed, her expression tender.
Daniel tried to read her thoughts, wondered if she were grateful for his companionship and friendship, or was there more? He was surprised to find himself hoping so. Looking into her eyes, he realized their scarred depths echoed the wounded look to his own eyes that he used to meet every morning in his mirror. But in those gray depths so marred by loss and loneliness, he also saw strength and maybe even hope.
Daniel wondered if either of them were capable of being open to the possibility of another chance.
Noelani finally broke their gaze, pulling in a sharp intake of breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe. She looked down at her lap and tugged at the shift she wore to sleep in, pulling the material to fully cover her legs. She tugged at a loose thread, fidgeting on her chair. Finally, she stood and swiping her hair back from falling into her face, she said, "It has been a long day. I should try to sleep."
"Okay," Daniel said, his voice a soft whisper, and he tried to hide the unexpected disappointment filling him. He wrapped his arms around his chest, though he was almost dry and pleasantly warmed by the fire. Or perhaps, the warmth was something else.
Reaching down to Jehiah, she took the old man�s arm and coaxed him to stand. He was already half-asleep and willingly allowed her to help him. She led him to his bed, tucked him in and pulled shut the curtain around his bed.
Noelani paused on the way to her own bed. "I hope the storm does not keep you awake."
"I�ll be all right," Daniel answered with a faint smile. "I hope you sleep well, too. Goodnight, Noeli."
Their eyes locked again, but this time it was Daniel who looked away first. He directed his gaze to the flimmering crimson flames. The hypnotic flickers and sparks of the blaze were safer to look at, gave him less cause to wonder.
"Goodnight, Dani."
There was a clatter as she closed the drape around her bed. Glancing over, he could see the glow from her candlelit lamp through the curtain, saw her shadowed form slide under the covers, but she sat up in bed for a moment. Daniel could see her slowly running a comb through her hair, her head tilted to the side, the long hair a rippling shadow framing the side of her face. He tried to guess what she was thinking, wondered if she felt as out of sorts as he did.
The bed creaked and she leaned forward. Cupping her hand around the lamp, she blew out the flame, and disappeared from sight. Daniel redirected his gaze to the fire and suspected that he would not sleep well at all that night. The wind continued to howl, but with less intensity. He hoped it was a sign that the storm was passing.
He felt Dazh cuddle up beside him, laying his head on Daniel�s leg and purring, happy to have a warm pillow.
No, Daniel didn�t think he would be sleeping well at all.
*****
Noelani shrieked with laughter, then quickly covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles at Daniel's plight. He'd stepped outside into the chill morning air to peruse the damage to the roof and slipped in the slick as ice mud, landing heavily on his butt, mud splashing around him, spraying his shirt and face.
"I am sorry," she gasped through the giggles. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he grumbled, then reached for her proffered hand of assistance. Instead of taking it, he grinned and swiped his mud-covered hand over her cheek, leaving a pale brown smear across her face.
Noelani shrieked again, bent to scoop up some mud and threatened to throw it at him. Daniel protested, tried to scramble away from her, his boots skidding and slipping. He managed to stand only to slip to his knees again, sliding into her, knocking her down into the cold puddle with him. She landed with a loud splash and a surprised yelp. This time, he couldn't help but join in with her helpless giggles as they flailed around in the mud like two overgrown children.
Noelani grabbed two handfuls of mud, smeared them over Daniel's already soaked shirt and spattered face, leaving twin clean patches of skin under his glasses. He threw a soft clod at her in retribution. She ducked and it hit her shoulder, sliding across and down her cleavage, which Daniel watched with his breath caught in his throat.
Her long, dark hair was tipped with light brown spatters, clumping the ends together, strands sticking to her face, painting it with muddy streaks, almost like badly applied camouflage paint. The thought made him grin at her again.
He gave up trying to free himself from the mud puddle and flopped backwards into it, spreading his arms wide as if he were going to make a mud angel, his eyes squeezed shut.
Noelani let out a breathless burst of laughter, then dropped beside him, mud spraying around them, her head falling on his outstretched arm. They lay there for a moment, gasping, helpless laughter stealing their breaths. They both glanced up to see Jehiah, wrapped in two heavy coats, scowling down at them as if they'd both lost their minds, which sparked another round of giggles.
When he'd recovered his breath, Daniel carefully managed to get to his knees, offered Noelani his mud-painted arm with the gentlemanly air of one decked out for a night on the town with his girl. She graciously took his arm and they slowly, carefully got to their feet.
Jehiah stared at them wide-eyed, as if he didn't recognize the light brown colored apparitions in front of him. Noelani smiled at him in reassurance. "I think it is time for a swim, do you not, Jehiah?"
He nodded, his face brightening at the prospect of going to the water. "Why are you so dirty?" Jehiah asked, staring at Noelani, then Daniel.
"Ask her," Daniel said nodding his head in Noelani's direction and grinning. He took careful steps over to Jehiah to offer him assistance. The old man leaned heavily on the cane Daniel had made for him. The eagle's head handle had a slight caustic look to its features, the deep gouge gave the eagle one cocked brow, but Daniel supposed it gave it character. Jehiah had been delighted with it anyway, and took the cane everywhere he went.
Daniel and Noelani walked protectively close beside Jehiah as the old man positioned his cane with a grandiosity with each shaking step, his gaze firmly fixed on the water ahead. They negotiated the incline of rocks, each of them holding onto Jehiah's arms so he wouldn't fall, then settled Jehiah on his favorite rock where he liked to sit and watch the waves.
The air by the water was heavy, like a chilled, wet blanket enveloping them. Curls of fog hovered over the ocean, entwining the surrounding trees like thin strips of cotton. Daniel could only imagine how cold the water would be. He took off his glasses and placed the frames on a low-hanging branch for safekeeping. Scrunching his face in anticipation of the cold, feeling the already drying mud flake off his skin like tiny scales, and letting out a loud whoop, he ran into the waves and dove under.
He emerged with a shocked gasp. "Shit! Christ, that's freezing!" he shouted in English, hugging himself, hopping from one foot to the other. The water was so cold it had nearly stolen the breath from his lungs.
Noelani stood on the shore, her feet barely in the water, arms tightly crossed over her chest, unconsciously mimicking Daniel.
Daniel waited for her, his teeth chattering, treading water, and wondering if he would ever see his balls again. They felt as if they'd crawled up into his ribcage in horror.
"Come on, don't be chicken!" he said in English, then made clucking noises at her.
"What does that mean?" she said, watching him suspiciously, unable to understand his jibe.
"It means that you are acting like you�re afraid of a little cold water!" he called back in Egyptian. "Come on! Unless you want to keep frightening Jehiah. And me," he added with a mischievous grin.
She shot him a mock evil look, then took a deep breath, ran into the water, screeching almost like Dazh did when he got excited, and dove under with a spectacular splash. Daniel ducked against the spray, and she shot up right in front of him. Throwing her arms around him, she planted a sloppy, playful kiss on his cold cheek.
He laughed, surprised, and wrapped his arms around her still mud covered back, holding her up from the water that was almost chest-deep on him. "What was that for?"
"For making me laugh for the first time in a very long while," she said, her voice soft, solemn. She looked into his blue eyes, noticing the way the water spiked his lashes, how the cold paled his features, somehow making him look younger.
Daniel hesitated for a moment, blinking rapidly, then lowered his head, brushed his lips against hers, tasting the salt on them. "Thank you for doing the same." He gave her a fleeting smile, laid his hand on her cheek for just a moment, his other hand holding her at the small of her back. He glanced down at the steel-colored water, feeling inexplicably self-conscious. "I can't feel my... feet anymore," he said with a soft laugh.
"Nor can I," Noelani said smiling, then gently pushed away from him, ducked underwater, and began washing the rest of the mud from the her hair and clothing.
Daniel held still for a moment, his mind wanting to analyze, interpret what had just transpired, but instead, he for once, tuned out the intellect. Shouting almost joyfully, he dove underwater, the icy temperature shocking his system again. Despite the cold, despite everything, he felt the oddest sensation�a sense of peace that warmed him from the inside out until he scarcely even felt the cold anymore.
*****
Daniel sat in front of a small campfire outside their hut, his body warmed by the flames against the chill, damp night. The distant, ubiquitous sound of the ocean washed over him, his body almost listing in time with the waves.
For nearly a week, he�d been having trouble sleeping, a storm instantly brewing in his mind as soon as he lay down, closed his eyes and tried to rest. And so that night, like most of those long nights, he had given up on sleep, sat alone in the dark by the fire, and wrote by the scant light of the flames while his breath misted around him.
Dazh lay curled on the log beside Daniel, purring softly in his sleep. Daniel looked at his journal, realized that he hadn't made an entry in a while and had lost track of how much time had passed altogether. His last note had been over two weeks ago, he estimated. He supposed it didn't really matter anymore. SGC and the life he had left behind were slowly becoming memories instead of longings and wishful thinking that he would one day return to that life.
The planet was gradually beginning to feel like home, an almost reluctant sense of permanence. Reluctant because he had never really felt a sense of permanence before, even on Abydos. His life on Abydos had been too much like a perfect dream to feel anything but transitory, and this new sensation of permanence was a strange, but not unwelcome one. The only material things he greatly missed were his books. The written word that was such a large part of who he was�had been, he corrected. He glanced down at his journal, the white page obscured by dancing red and orange shapes from the glow of the firelight.
He thought of his father's journal, which he'd carried around with him until the binding fell apart, until he'd had to wrap it with elastic bands to keep the pages from falling out. The journal had become a talisman of sorts to the boy he had been, his only tie to the family he had lost. His father's written words a comfort to him when sometimes there was no other comfort to be had. He supposed that was where his love of the written word originated, that timeless eternal tie between author and reader. He wondered if one day, his own future child would have only Daniel's journal for company, to remember him by.
The thought startled him with its unexpectedness. Daniel had never even considered the possibility of becoming a father once Sha're had died. He'd thought that expectation had died along with her. He looked away from his journal, tried to pull his thoughts to something less disturbing. His neck was stiff from looking down so long. Taking off his glasses and laying them on the book, he reached up a hand to his neck and winced as he massaged the tight muscles.
Hearing the door creak open behind him, Daniel glanced at the brief shaft of dim light appearing from inside the hut, then fading as the door shut with a muted, hollow thump.
Noelani stepped up to him, wrapped in her shawl. She stood behind him, laid her hands almost tentatively on his shoulders, and began to massage the aching, sore muscles for him. Daniel tensed for a moment, then dropped his hand to his lap, relaxed into her soothing touch and closed his eyes. Her hands kneaded the tense, stiff muscles, loosening the knots and calming him, his body swaying gently along with her motions. He started to drift off, then felt her hands eventually slip around to his front and he opened his eyes to see her facing him.
"Are you all right, Dani?" she looked into his eyes. "It is very late."
"Yes, I am sorry," he said, blinking to bring his tired eyes back into focus. "I hope I did not keep you awake. I lose track of time when I am writing."
"You did not keep me awake," she said. Daniel shifted so she could sit on the other side of him. Dazh stirred, curled himself into a tighter ball and went back to sleep. "I was unable to sleep, my mind is restless, as my mother used to say." Noelani shrugged.
Daniel nodded. "I know that feeling. I have the same problem tonight."
Noelani moved closer to him and he felt that familiar stirring. She leaned against him, tucking her cheek on the underside of his neck, her motions hesitant, as if testing his reaction. He felt the faintest whisper of a kiss in the hollow of his throat.
Daniel found himself responding almost instinctively. He lowered his head, trailed his lips down her forehead, to her soft mouth. He heard a faint groan escape his lips as she turned, pulling him closer against her. Her mouth opened, her tongue sought his at first cautiously, then hungrily. Her cool hand stole under his shirt, sliding up his ribs, causing him to shiver.
His hand moved to her slender neck, then up to caress the soft skin of her cheek. He felt her press tighter against him. Her fingers kneaded the lean muscles on his lower back and he felt his body responding, eager. He kissed her with growing urgency. Their breaths quickened. His teeth nibbled at her lower lip. He felt her start trembling under his hands.
When he felt that tremble, that display of her vulnerability, Daniel had an overwhelming urge to pull away, to... to protect her, he thought, without fully understanding what that meant. He abruptly broke their embrace, untangled himself from her, ducked his head down, struggled to catch his breath and fought to will his eager body into submission.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, then realized he had said it in English. "I did not mean to do that," he continued in Egyptian.
Noelani looked confused. "It is all right, Dani-"
"No. I should not have done that," he said, standing and taking a few steps back from her. His thoughts whirled with conflicting emotions he couldn't even begin to identify. "I�I am sorry," he repeated, shaking his head.
Noelani got to her own feet. "Do... do you not find me desirable, Dani?" she said, her voice shaking with what he thought were suppressed tears of hurt.
Daniel cursed himself for his ineptitude. He'd never been very good at this sort of thing. "No, no. That�s... I do, I-" He licked his lips nervously. They still tasted of her. "I find you, um... very... desirable.... it's just... it's..."
Noelani nodded, looked down to hide her expression. "I understand. I am an ignorant villager, and you are a learned scholar and traveler. I am not worthy to be your mate. I apologize."
Daniel silently berated himself again, stepped closer to her, and took hold of both her hands. "Noeli, stop it�don't ever say that. You are an amazing, remarkable woman, who is most... desirable. It is I who is not worthy to be your mate."
She frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath. "Do you remember me telling you about my wife?"
She nodded.
"I loved her so much, but when I lost her..." Daniel paused to collect his scattered thoughts, released one of his hands from hers and tore his fingers through his hair. He realized his hands were shaking. "I made a promise to myself that I would never... do that to someone again. Be...responsible for them�I cannot be responsible for someone like that again. I cannot risk failing someone I loved so much again." He stepped further away from her. "I can't do it again," he whispered, but even as quietly as he spoke, the words and the fear all but screamed at him. Weighed heavily, painfully on his heart. He tried to let go, but Noelani kept a firm grip on his hand.
"Dani," she said, reaching for his other hand and grasping them both firmly in hers. "Listen to me." She tried to meet his gaze, but he looked down at the ground, his lashes casting deep shadows on his cheekbones, his breath coming in short rasps. She pulled his hands to her chest, clasping them against her heart. He could feel her heartbeat against his fingers.
"I do not believe that you failed your wife, and I know that you will not fail me," Noelani said and kissed his hands, then each of his fingers. "I believe that you did everything in your power to save her, but sometimes even all you can do is not enough. You are not the only one who has lost, Dani. I know what it is like, but there is no blame, there is no responsibility. Death chooses whom it chooses, and all there is to do is mourn, and to love those we have left."
Daniel finally allowed himself to look into those unusual eyes appearing almost silver in the moonlight.
"Their spirits are free, and they are with their loved ones. But we have been alone so long," she whispered.
"Yes, we have," he said, surprised to hear his voice wavering. He blinked back tears, allowed her to move closer to him, place her slender arms around his neck.
Forgive me Sha're. I'll always love you and long for you, but maybe all there is left to do is go on.
He heard a soft gasp, or maybe it was even a sob escaping his lips, and Noelani covered his mouth with hers, stealing his next breath. There was no more turning back. He couldn�t hide himself or his grief away any longer, and he didn�t want to. He leaned into her embrace, pulled her to him, and stopped fighting the reawakening of feelings, of sensations he thought had died years ago. He twined his fingers in the downy hair at the nape of her neck, caressed the soft skin, felt the tight grip of guilt and regret leave his heart for the first time since that fateful day on Abydos.
Noelani took a step back, laid the shawl on the ground, close to the fire. She wore only her loose shift, and when she pushed the straps over her shoulders, the soft material slid down the length of her body, gathering in a pool at her feet. Grasping Daniel's hand, she pulled him down to the soft material so that he knelt, facing her.
Her skin was a glowing amber in the firelight, and he tentatively ran his hand along her shoulder, down her arm, then pressed his mouth against hers. She reached for Daniel's belt, laying her hand for a moment on the hardness below it, making him gasp. She loosened the belt as he shed his shirt, and tossed it aside. Daniel somehow thought this should feel awkward, but instead it suddenly felt right�simple even. The realization surprised him after all the years of being alone with the anguish that had numbed his heart. That had stilled any desire for so long.
He had no idea what to expect from Noelani, for she had been far more alone than he had been. Instead of fear, there was sudden levity when he became caught in the rest of his clothing, having forgotten to remove his boots first. She helped him untangle himself, their soft laughter mingling with the crackling of the fire and the insect whirrs.
"I guess I am out of practice," Daniel said, smiling sheepishly when he was finally freed from his boots and his pants. He felt the warmth of the fire against his bare skin, smelled the charred wood and the faint perfume of the oil she used to soften her skin.
"As am I, but it does not matter," she said with a faint smile.
"No, it doesn�t," Daniel agreed and she moved closer to him. Their bodies pressed together, seemed to meld as one. Her skin felt like silk against his and he suppressed a gasp when her fingers ran the length of his ribs to his hip, raising goosebumps, tickling him. She felt him shiver and smile under her kiss, and he laid his hand against her back, pressing her even tighter to him.
He rolled to the side, moving her gently with him in one smooth motion. She shifted to lie on her back, holding onto him, savoring the feeling of his strong body against hers. The eventual joining of their bodies surprised them both by its ease, its urgency and simple need. And their finishing, which came far too quickly, surprised them even more with its intensity.
They lay back, caught their breaths, felt the cool air caress their skin. There were no embarrassed glances, no awkward words. They simply held each other and each understood when they silently promised that the next time would last longer, because each knew there would be many more next times.
That alone held its own joy.
So they kissed, and they giggled against the other's mouths. They touched and became familiar, and when their eyes grew heavy, and the flames from the campfire died down to fiery embers, they gathered their cast-off articles of clothing and rose from their place of reawakening.
When they stole into the hut, careful not to wake Jehiah, and pulled themselves under the covers of Noelani's bed, sleep came quickly for Noelani, her small body curled against Daniel's, her head tucked securely under his chin.
For Daniel, rest came slower. He held her in his arms, forced himself to stay awake, for he wanted to savor the new feeling of absolution, of contentment and of belonging.
*****
She reminded him of Sha're in some ways. Her hunger for learning and knowledge. Her endless fascination with Daniel's stories of his travels, and Earth. He�d even begun teaching her English, and found her to be a remarkably quick learner. But there was that constant darkness of grief, that encompassing sorrow within her that Sha're never had�at least not in their year, their lifetime on Abydos. It was a sadness that echoed Daniel's own. One they shared, one they understood, which somehow made things easier.
Daniel had moved his few things over to Noelani's corner of the hut and they settled into a familiarity with each other that made their earlier trepidation seem so unnecessary. Falling asleep together, listening to their breaths mingling with one another's was a cure for Daniel's troubled dreams. Waking with her curled against him was a simple pleasure he had nearly forgotten.
As the weeks passed and the days became shorter and the nights were filled with rain, their life settled into a routine of tending to their garden replete with its winter crop, of gathering food, and watching out for Jehiah. It was a simple life, one that Daniel had never anticipated leading again, but he found that for now, he was content, happy even.
Daniel stood from his crouched position of checking on the squash-like vegetables, brushed the dirt from his hands. The previous night had been stormy, but the garden seemed intact. He heard a shuffling sound and glanced over at the hut to see Jehiah limping through the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane.
Daniel watched Jehiah tottering outside, his thin body shaking with cold, even though he was dressed in his thick coat. Jehiah refused to remain indoors when either Daniel or Noelani were outside. It had been weeks since Jehiah had spoken a single coherent word, seeming to have retreated even further into his mind. The only enjoyment he outwardly displayed was when he was accompanied on his walks to the beach. Jehiah was already heading in the direction of the water and Daniel considered calling to Noelani to ask if she would go with the older man so Daniel could finish his chores.
After a moment of indecision, he figured he could take a break and go down to the beach with Jehiah for a little while. Daniel was still looking for the right shapes of driftwood to make the rest of his chess pieces. He'd already finished the board, had carved all but the final pieces�the kings and queens. It was a frivolous endeavor, but he thought he could teach Noelani to play and it would give them something to do during the long, rainy nights. Besides, he had to admit that he missed his weekly chess games with Jack.
He jogged up to Jehiah, carefully took hold of the older man's arm. Sometimes Jehiah rejected being touched, but today, he hardly seemed to notice and continued walking, placing his cane carefully with each step. They made their cautious way to the beach, and Daniel helped Jehiah sit on his favorite rock.
Daniel stayed close, walked along the rocks, looking down, hunting for his driftwood. Glancing behind him, he saw that Jehiah was still safely on his perch on the flattened rock, his gaze fixed on the dark, churning water. Daniel wondered if Jehiah was still aware enough to watch and to hope for Ilias's return from the jade expanse of unknown.
Daniel walked further on the beach, pausing to retrieve the odd unusually shaped shell or brightly hued rock, which Noelani loved so much. He found a spot where a collection of driftwood and seaweed had become trapped in a hollow, and crouched down. He sifted through the rough ocean detritus and was pleased when he found just the right shape of smoothed wood for the queen. He tucked it into his pack, along with the other shells and stones. Negotiating the sharply angled rocks with an ease of familiarity, Daniel made his way back to Jehiah.
"Are you ready to go, Jehiah?" he asked, walking up to the man who sat in his customary rigid posture. "You must getting hungry."
Jehiah didn't answer, but Daniel was used to that. He laid a hand on Jehiah's shoulder to get his attention. When Jehiah didn't even flinch, Daniel felt a wave of fear pass through him. He quickly moved in front of Jehiah, realized the man's half-closed eyes were glassy, empty.
"Oh, God-" Daniel fumbled at Jehiah's neck for a pulse and found none. "Don't do this, Jehiah, not now, please," he pleaded. He noticed that Jehiah's lips and his fingers, still clasped around the head of the cane, were tinged blue. He was gone.
"Dammit!" Daniel shouted, sudden anger replacing the shock, his outburst evoking startled squawks and flutters from the birds in the water. He raised a shaky hand, closed the old man's dark eyes for him. He sat down heavily when his legs became rubbery, felt a sting of tears as he watched Jehiah's still features.
Daniel noticed through the watery blur of tears, that the old man had a faint smile on his lips, his expression serene, as if his last thoughts had been happy ones, or so Daniel could hope. Perhaps Ilias had finally come back to Jehiah, come to show his father the way to peace and to the ones he had lost.
The waves crashed behind him, Daniel felt sprays of water against his neck, sending chills through him. He felt his breath quicken, realized that he was crying a little. He took slow, deep breaths, tried to compose himself, tried to still his own emotions so he could break the news to Noelani. It really shouldn't have hit him this hard�Jehiah's health had been rapidly declining, but death always caught you by surprise, even when you thought you were expecting it. Daniel knew you could try to prepare for death, know that it was imminent, but he didn�t think it was ever possible to accept it without shock, without it leaving another rend to your heart.
He swiped his arm over his face, stood finally, then gathered the old man in his arms, lifting him easily. Jehiah had become so thin over the past few months, and somehow, with his soul gone to the afterworld, his body felt even less substantial. Daniel stumbled up the rocky incline, made his way to their home, his heart leaden, his face wet with either perspiration, or renewed tears�he wasn�t sure which.
He saw Noelani straighten from tending to the garden, having taken over where Daniel had left off. The weeds she grasped dropped from her hands when she saw Daniel emerge from the trees, saw what he held.
She shook her head in negation, her mouth dropping open with a gasp. She backed away a few steps, as if she could deny the truth. Daniel held the lifeless body to his chest, and as he passed by the stricken woman he paused to look into her wide, tear-filled eyes. He wanted to try to tell her how sorry he was. Somehow try to express his deepest sorrow for her loss, but she turned her head away, pinched her mouth to a grim line, still trying to convince herself that this was not happening.
As light as Jehiah�s body was, Daniel�s arms still began to tremble, his muscles growing tired. He glanced at Noelani, saw her gaze flicker for a brief moment in his direction. Carrying the man into the hut, Daniel laid him on his bed, arranged the limp limbs as gently as he could, then covered the still form with a soft blanket. He'd expected Noelani to follow him inside, but when he turned, the hut was empty behind him. Heading back outside, he found that she had resumed her weeding, her back turned to him.
"Noelani," he began, but when he tried to take her hand, she stiffened, pulled away, glaring at him with sudden acrimony.
She shook her head, hands clenched together. "Don't."
Daniel stood close behind her, saw her shaking with the shock, anger and effort to keep from falling apart, but he was uncertain how to proceed. "Noeli, I am so sorry," he said, but he knew the words were futile, meaningless to the enormity of her loss.
Noelani nodded, crouched down next to a neat rows of vegetables. "I must cover these. It will likely be stormy again tonight," she said in a wavering voice.
"I'll do it later," Daniel told her. "They can wait for now." He tried to reach for her again, but she yanked away so abruptly that she lost her balance and nearly fell. Daniel caught her, held her against his chest. She shoved her hands against him, fighting him. Daniel held her, not tight to his body, but just enough to rein in her fury.
"Shh," he whispered into her hair while she writhed in his arms, protesting with all her might the kindness and compassion he was trying to offer her. "Shh, Noeli..."
One last shove, one final jarring push away, and then all her strength disappeared. She collapsed against Daniel, shuddering, clinging to him, her eyes staring into nothing. Her breaths were rapid and uneven, but she made no sound.
Daniel smoothed her hair from her face and across her back, stroked her trembling shoulders and kissed her. "It's okay..."
She tried to pull away once more, as if she thought she should, but her arms shook, and her body trembled. Steeling her resolve to not capitulate to death's grip on her heart yet again, Noelani succeeded in standing without Daniel's assistance. She stumbled away from him, hands held out in a warding-off gesture. She summoned the old, brittle hardness of loss and began to work again, savagely wiping away the remaining tears.
"I must cover these," she repeated, her voice tremulous, pulling strips of cloth from the ground beside her.
Daniel stood behind her, watched her near-frantic motions, wrapped his arms around his chest, at a loss what to do. He unexpectedly saw himself in Noelani, remembered that he'd reacted very similarly when he'd finally lost Sha're for good. He remembered how he'd hidden himself behind an impenetrable wall of grief from that very first day she'd been gone.
He could see that same, familiar wall surrounding Noelani, understood the protection it afforded her. He knew exactly what it was like to be within the walls of denial, but with Noelani, he was decidedly the one pushed outside those walls. He was the one on the outside, and his attempts at comfort were being abruptly rejected. He was startled by how terribly it hurt, how helpless it made him feel.
Daniel watched her small, efficient hands covering the fragile plants, and while he watched her, he thought of those times in his office, when he'd enveloped himself in the surrogate actions of grief�his work. He remembered with visceral pain the agony of loss, the struggle to force it inside and shut it away. Remembered his friends trying to comfort him, when comfort was the last thing he could allow himself to accept, and so he'd turned them away.
He watched her and saw her actions for what they were�a repudiation of her thrumming pain, doing the same thing he�d been doing for nearly a year.
He tried to think what to do. What could he offer her? What did she want, or need to hear?
Should he leave her to her sorrow, and allow her to grieve in her own way, and in her own time? Or should he force her to immediately deal with her loss and drag her into the hut, demand that she look at the body of the man she had come to think of as a father.
"See? He is dead," he would have to tell her. "I�m sorry, Noelani, but he is dead, and you have to face it."
No, he didn�t think he could do that to her, whether it was for her own good or not. What harm was there in a few moments of pretending that all was still well, when she had a lifetime to deal with the reality of yet another loss? Maybe, he could simply give her those few moments that she so desperately fought to hold onto. There was plenty of time to work through her grief later, when she was feeling stronger, Daniel told himself, but he wouldn�t allow her to shut him out again after this short reprieve. He would do everything he could to save her from making the same mistake he�d made.
He lowered himself to the ground next to her, picked up a strip of cloth and started covering a row of plants. She never looked at him, never said a word, only tucked the strips over and around the fragile plants. They worked in silence, efficiently covering the plants so that each stem was protected against the imminent onslaught of harsh frost. The routine chore protected Noelani from facing her loss head-on. The mindless physical act shielded her from the pain as surely as the cloth protected the thin stems from the cold.
Together, in the vacuum of grief, they covered every plant, as if the routine chore would erase the fissure in the short-lived happiness they had found in one another.
*****
He tried to give Jehiah what he could only hope was a fitting send-off, since Noelani was too withdrawn and too deeply in shock to tell him of her people's customs. Daniel assumed they were similar to the Abydonians and had recited the same funeral rites with as much decorum as he could muster. He tried not to remember the last time he had spoken those words, and for whom he had spoken them.
Just digging the grave had taken him nearly the entire day. The muddy ground swiftly gave way to layers of slabs of rocks a few feet down and Daniel's hands were blistered and bleeding after digging only a few feet with the poor excuse for a shovel he had hastily crafted for the occasion. His arms and shoulders felt as tired and heavy as his heart. He finally understood why so many of Noelani's lost people had been laid to rest on the ground instead of buried like the others.
Placing the cane he�d made for Jehiah in the grave beside him, Daniel superstitiously hoped the eagle would protect and help guide the man on his final journey. He carefully covered the still form with the muddy, rock-strewn dirt, while Noelani watched, silent and withdrawn in her grief.
Looking down at the freshly-covered grave, Daniel quietly spoke the words to the song he had sung to Jehiah that one stormy night, hoping Jehiah�s heart was too tired and too content to hear him.
Over a week later, Noelani had scarcely spoken a word to Daniel, and when she did, they were only curt, irritated replies to his questions. She'd hardly slept or touched any food. Despite Daniel�s promise to himself that he�d prevent Noelani from shutting him and her grief out, she had become fairly adroit in doing just that. Daniel worried that maybe Jehiah's death was one loss too many for her to endure. Feared that this loss had shattered her irreparably, and that fear made him insistent and relentless in his attempts to console her, to distract her from her near-paralysis of grief.
"Noeli, you have to try to eat something," he said, noticing another untouched bowl of breakfast she had placed beside her. She challenged him with a glare, then went outside into the pouring rain, carrying the bowl, and dumped the contents in the dish set out for Dazh.
Daniel frowned with concern when she came back inside and didn't even glance at him. She started bustling around the small hut, picking up objects, then replacing them without seeming to be aware of her actions. Daniel watched her restless motions, listened to the rain drumming on the roof. Decided to try again.
"Noelani, I know how hard this is for you, but making yourself sick isn't going to help anything. Come on, talk to me, or something. Do you want to try a game of chess?" he offered. He'd finally finished carving all the pieces though his heart hadn't been in it. He thought the mental distraction of the game might be good for both of them.
She abruptly turned to scowl at him. "I am fine, Dani. I do not need, nor want you coddling me like I am a small child. I have taken care of myself for a long time before you came, and will continue to do so."
Daniel blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness of her tone. "I'm not coddling you, I'm just... worried about you," he said, his soft voice holding a tinge of hurt he hadn't intended to reveal. "You haven't-"
"I am fine," she repeated, interrupting him curtly. "I do not want to talk. I do not want to do anything. Just... just let me be and leave me alone." Turning her back on him, Noelani stepped over to what once served as their bedroom. She�d made it clear that when she did sleep, she wanted to sleep alone, so Daniel had returned to his old bed by the back corner. She tore the long drape shut around her bed with a noisy clatter, sealing him out.
Climbing onto the bed, she lay back, curling onto her side, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle the cries that wanted to come. She heard the door open and close. Daniel had gone outside, she realized, even though it was raining heavily. She felt an instant pang of regret and guilt over her harsh words to him. She wanted to go after him, but found she lacked the energy or the will to move.
Noelani felt something brush against her forearm�Dazhbog had snuck inside, or perhaps Daniel had let him in. The animal climbed up on the bed, nuzzled her cheek, then curled up, pressing his small body against hers. He was damp from the rain, but she didn't mind. She stroked the soft fur on his head, allowing herself to accept his attempts at comfort and distraction.
She wondered why she couldn't accept it from Daniel.
*****
Noelani woke, uncurled herself, her muscles too stiff and too sore to lie still anymore. She sat up, ran a hand through her tangled hair. Dazhbog was no longer snuggled up with her, and she couldn't hear any signs of Daniel. She stood, pulled back the drape and looked around the empty hut. She noticed Daniel's pack was gone. Heading outside, she saw that the cleared area where Daniel was always building something was empty save for a few curls of wood on the ground. More wood was stacked neatly alongside the hut.
Noelani shivered, wrapped her arms around herself and ignored the growing sense of an almost overwhelming fear. Her eyes scanned the still forest. She noticed it was late afternoon, near dusk, the rainfall had tapered off to a light, chill mist in the air.
"Dani?" she called out, her voice hesitant. When there was no reply, she called his name again, this time tinged with panic. "Dani, where are you?"
She rushed into the trees, calling his name over and over, aware that she was panicking but she couldn't stop, couldn't fight the terror that was turning her veins to ice. She heard her own frantic sobbing gasps echoing in her ears, couldn't catch her breath. Heard something crashing through the trees, and tried to look in the direction of the sound, but she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She staggered, nearly fell, then felt sudden strong arms around her, grasping her tightly, holding her up.
"Noeli! What is it? What is wrong?"
She looked up into Daniel's face. His eyes were wide with fear and confusion. She collapsed against him, her breath hitching almost hysterically.
"Noeli, what is it? Please, tell me what's wrong!" Daniel sounded near as upset as she was, and she struggled to find her voice. She gulped in a deep breath of air, threw her arms around his neck, holding him with all her strength, for fear if she let him go, he would disappear as suddenly and as mysteriously as he had come all those months ago.
"I-I th-thought you were g-gone. Thought p-p-perhaps you had found a way to return to your w-world, or that something had h-hap-happened to you," she choked out against his neck, her tears dripping onto him, running into the collar of his shirt, already wet from the rain. I thought I had driven you away.
Daniel rubbed her back, kissed her tear-stained temple. "Oh, God, Noeli. I'm sorry. I should have told you where I was going, but I did not want to wake you. I was just gathering some kindling. I'm sorry, honey, shh," he whispered, rocking her. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
She tried to answer but her throat was too tight, the fading but still encompassing terror stealing the breath from her lungs, gripping her heart, making her chest ache. She was trembling from head to foot. She could see that Daniel wore his pack, shards of wood protruding from it�collecting kindling, as he had said.
Daniel pulled back as much as he could from her near stranglehold on him, placed his hands on both sides of her face to make her look at him. "Noeli, I promise you, that I will never, never leave you like that. I will never leave you alone. Do you understand?" His blue eyes were bright with intensity, with emotion. "Never."
She nodded mutely, brought her trembling hands away from his neck to grasp his forearms. She needed to assure herself of his reality�an unwitting echo of Daniel's fear of her own tenuity a few months ago.
He brushed his lips over her forehead then gently pulled his arms free from her grip. Placing one arm around her waist, he helped her stand, nearly picking her up. She clasped her arms around him, holding his shirt so tightly it made it her knuckles ache and they slowly made their way home. She scarcely noticed that she was walking. Hardly registered that the rain had started again, dripping onto her face like tears. Everything felt strangely numb.
Daniel led her into the hut, to her bed, sat her down and wrapped her snugly in her shawl. She slid back to lean up against the wall, felt her body still trembling.
"I'll be right here, I'm just going to re-light the fire, okay?" Daniel said.
She nodded, hugged her knees to her chest and tried to stop shaking. After a timeless moment, she wasn't sure how long he'd been gone, Daniel returned, helped her sip some tea he�d made for her. She was surprised to have finished most of the tea before she found she could speak again.
"I have dreaded this for so long, and now that it has happened I don't know how to feel," she whispered, setting the cup aside, wrapping her arms around her legs again.
Daniel sat close beside her on the bed. "What do you mean?"
"Ever since all... since... then... I feared the day when Jehiah would die and leave me alone here. I am all that is left of my people, Dani," she whispered, her voice breaking. The realization overwhelming. "I am all alone now."
"No, you're not alone, Noeli," Daniel corrected. "You may be the last of your people, but you are not alone."
He heard the sob escape from her and she pressed her hands tightly against her mouth, trying to hold it in. Daniel slid behind her, pulled her to his chest. Noelani collapsed against him, dropped her head into the hollow of his shoulder, tucked her face in the folds of his shirt. Her body quaked with the force of her sobs, and Daniel held her, rocked them both. She clung to him desperately, twining her fingers in the damp shirt he still wore. Daniel kissed her hair, whispered softly to her, telling her it was okay, let it out. He wrapped his arms closer around her, assuring her of his presence, his permanence.
She cried for a long time, tears he suspected had been withheld for far too long, and when her cries faded, then subsided, and she fell asleep from exhaustion, Daniel still held her. Though his eyes burned with fatigue, the muscles of his arms ached, he never let go, and he saw her through the long night.
*****
Noelani slowly started to recover, to regain her equilibrium and sense of humor. They began to settle back into the gentle ease of their life before Jehiah's passing, though it was further tinged with sadness.
They found that they had more freedom to explore, and Noelani showed Daniel all the places she and her brothers used to play. The cave she had discovered when she was ten years old, where she could hide from her youngest brother, Aleron, who had always trailed her like a shadow. The place where she and her husband, when they had been scarcely out of their childhoods, had exchanged their first kiss, and he had given her the shell necklace he'd made for her. The necklace she still wore around her neck, though the leather tying it together was worn and frayed.
When it was near dusk, she showed Daniel an almost overgrown path, which led to a flat precipice that had a breathtaking view of the water. They sat on the ground, snuggled together, Noelani's back against Daniel's chest, his arms securely around her, and they watched the first sun go down in a blaze of lilac, violet and crimson�a myriad of colors reflecting luminously off the water. The second sun was a low ball of amber, gleaming in the deep lavender sky.
"I remember when I was a young girl, sometimes all I wished for was to be able to be alone. Just for a little while," she said, looking out at the second sunset, the fireball sinking incrementally, the amber transmuting into a deep orange, the light painting her face in a delicate kaleidoscope. "I used to be thrilled to escape for a while in my hideout, so I could make up stories in my head, or just be alone with my thoughts. After they all... after... I used to wonder if the gods cursed me for wishing so."
Daniel nodded, understanding. "Be careful what you wish for." His voice trailed off as he remembered that he�d had similar thoughts the first few weeks he'd been on the island. That he had somehow brought his isolation upon himself. That he somehow deserved to be alone. She glanced up at him questioningly. "It's an expression on my world," he explained, and laid a soft kiss on the top of her head.
He felt her nod against his chest. "Be careful what you wish for, for it may come true," she said.
"Yes," Daniel said. "But the gods don't punish you for something like that. And you can't make something happen just by wishing it." Even as he spoke the words, he wished he had believed that sentiment those first few miserable weeks when he thought he'd never see another human again, never feel another's touch.
Noelani pondered Daniel�s words, knew the truth he spoke. But sometimes your wishes do come true, she thought, remembering her other wish that someone would one day come and rescue her from her near-solitude. Whether the gods had heard her silent longing, or not, Noelani could only be grateful to them for sending Daniel to her.
She glanced up at him, saw purple flecks from the sky reflecting on the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his eyes. He noticed her watching him and he gave her a sweet smile, tucked his head down to brush his lips against her forehead.
"It is so beautiful here," he said almost wondrously, gazing at the second sun again just as it seemed to dip into the water, lighting the emerald depths afire. He was amazed how the feeling of Noelani in his arms and the beauty of their world seemed to envelop him like a salve, a soothing balm for his troubled soul.
He wondered if it were possible that the fates had sent him here, not as atonement, but as sanctuary.
*****
They both emerged from the watery depths, gulping in deep breaths of air, both of them shivering as they draped their arms over opposite sides of the raft. It was early spring, but the water was still too cold to be swimming, a fact that hadn�t dissuaded them from their underwater excursion. At least the suns shining on their heads helped stave off the worst of the chill, warming their faces and arms.
Noelani looked at Daniel, wide-eyed and shook her head in wonder. "It is amazing, Dani! You can actually travel through such a device?"
"Yes, you can," he said, smiling at her childlike excitement. It had taken surprisingly little time to find the Stargate again. It seemed as if the location of its watery grave was sealed forever in Daniel's memory. He didn't know why he�d brought her back to the beach on which he�d washed up all those months ago and shown her the gate. Maybe it was to offer her proof of the other worlds he had been to, and had come from. Maybe it was a way to remind himself of its reality, useless though it may be.
"To think it has been here all this time," Noelani said, glancing down at the water, as though she could see the Stargate through its murkiness. She had never imagined that one could build such a magical device, never chanced to dream that it were truly possible to travel to the stars that shone down on her at night. "Let us look at it once more!" Noelani thought she could gaze upon the wondrous machine forever and not ever grow tired of it.
Daniel smiled at her again, and agreed. He found that it didn't bother him to look at the gate anymore. It had become a relic, another artifact. A reminder of the past. That's all.
Noelani leaned over the raft, gave him a quick kiss then gulped in a breath of air and dove under again. Daniel grinned and went after her, following her long legs down into the murky depths, to where he had left his old life behind.
They spent the night in the shelter Daniel had made on his second day on the island. It was still intact, exactly as Daniel had left it. Except now, it wasn't as desolate, and he no longer felt trapped within its confines. Before, when it was just him inside, the shelter seemed too small, the leafy walls closing in on him, making it difficult to breathe.
But when he shared the space with Noelani, the small hut no longer felt like a trap, but an embracing shelter for his new-found serenity. A serenity that he knew was hard-won. One that was found only after breaking down the last of his protective but isolating walls, and freeing his soul for the healing it was ready for. With those walls finally gone, Daniel was able to enjoy that renewed freedom, able to give his heart what it had been crying out for�the love and compassion of one who understood.
He saw Noelani granting herself that same release. Saw a similar peace and contentment enfolding her as she snuggled up against him, her arm draped over his chest, her breath in synch with his.
The next day, Daniel and Noelani made their way back to the other side of the island, back to their home. Both of them hung onto the wildly rocking raft, negotiating the force of the waves, laughing when the water splashed high enough to drench them with an icy spray.
Back home, and listening to the rain drumming on the roof of the hut, seeming to thrum in their heads, Daniel and Noelani huddled in blankets on the floor in front of a blazing fire, studying the square of wood between them.
"Check!" Noelani said, banging the rook down with a thump, sitting up straighter, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
Daniel lay stretched out on his stomach, chin resting on his hand. He glanced up at her through his eyelashes, pursed his lips, pretended to ponder the chessboard. He picked up his queen, hovered the elaborately carved figure over the square for a moment, then set it down with precision. "Checkmate."
Noelani gaped at him in disbelief, then glared at the board. Scanning the figures, scowling furiously, her features softened after a few moments with the realization of her defeat.
Daniel grinned at the pout forming on her face. "Sorry," he said, wincing in sympathy. "But you're getting better!" And she was. In fact, it turned out that she was a far more enthusiastic opponent than Jack had been. She�d challenged Daniel to a game nearly every night since he�d taught her how to play. Daniel was amused, and he had to admit, pleased at how Noelani had taken to the game. It seemed as if her new ambition in life was to beat him at chess.
"One day, I will beat you," she said, crossing her arms and lifting her chin with determination.
"Even if it takes you the next twenty years?" Daniel grinned, repeating what she had said after their last game.
"Even if it takes the next thirty!"
"Well, by then, you'll easily beat me. I will very likely be blind and half-deaf and won't be able to tell the pieces apart," he said, raising his eyebrows. He sat up, gathered the pieces and started setting them back in place.
"And I will be just as fond of you then, as I am now," she said, smiling.
"Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?" Daniel sang in English, in an intentionally off-key British accent as he finished replacing the pieces on the board.
Noelani laughed. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, really," Daniel smiled at her. "It's just a song on my world about growing old together." He leaned over the chess board, his hand stealing around to cup the back of her neck, and he kissed her, his tongue flicking lightly against hers. He shifted and winced when something dug into his hipbone. He glanced down, then remembered.
Sitting back, he pulled the shard from his pocket, looked at it for a moment, rubbed his thumb over the carved surface, then handed it to her.
"What is it?" she asked, carefully turning the sliver of stone in her hand.
"That is the symbol of my world. The Tau'ri�where I come from. I don't know why... but I thought you might like to... to have it," he said, shrugging. He had taken the glyph from the deteriorated DHD when he'd shown her the gate, unsure of why he had done it. He felt suddenly self-conscious about giving her the reminder of the home he'd never see again, a small piece of himself, he supposed, but Noelani seemed entranced by it.
"Thank you, Dani," she said, curling her fingers around it, sliding forward to brush her lips against his. She leaned into him, knocking a few of the chess pieces over with a clatter. She glanced down at them, her brow creasing slightly with irritation, then she moved over to him, ran her hands through his hair. Her mouth found his small, surprisingly delicate ears, gently nibbled at the almost non-existent lobes.
Daniel groaned, arching slightly in pleasure. He lay back pulling her down with him. Their rapid breaths, soft moans and the rustle of their clothes mingled with the hard, incessant drumming of the rain. The sound of distant thunder, a brief flash of lightning outside lit the room, the flimmering electrical charge echoing the crackling of passion inside.
*****
Daniel grimaced as the slippery fish nearly fell from his grasp, entrails and blood dripping over his hands. He thought he was almost getting the hang of this gutting a fish thing, but still the smell and the... sliminess always bugged him. No wonder he'd never gone fishing with Jack.
Noelani stepped from the hut, a carved wooden bucket in hand for the cactus berries she was heading out to pick. Striding up to Daniel, she leaned over the tall stump he was using as a chopping block, kissed him, and giggled at his struggles with the fish.
"You are a very learned scholar, Dani, but I must tell you that you do not make a very good fisherman." She grinned at him and looked down at the mess of scales, tails and entrails at his feet.
"How about you finish this then, and I'll go pick the berries?" he said raising his eyebrows, a hopeful expression on his face.
Noelani studied the mess on the ground again�some of the fish pieces had fallen on Daniel�s boots, leaving wet smears on the scuffed leather. She shook her head. "No, you need as much practice as you can get," she said in mock seriousness, the corners of her mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. She kissed him again to soften her teasing words, slowly ran her hand down the middle of his chest, her lips lingering at his mouth just long enough to make him groan low in his throat.
"I will be back soon," she said, smiling at the mingled look of frustration and desire on Daniel�s face. She turned toward the thick underbrush, long hair swinging against her back, the bucket dangling from her arm.
Dazhbog darted down from the trees and trotted after her. The animal had outgrown his babyish cuteness, his body longer, sleeker. The downy fur had thickened to a luxurious greenish-gray pelt. He would sometimes disappear for days at a time, making Daniel and Noelani wonder if their furry friend had found a furry girlfriend.
Daniel watched until they had disappeared into the forest, picked up another fish. Noeli was right, he sucked at this fishing thing, but you couldn't be good at everything, right? Even as he thought it, Daniel decided that he would prove Noelani wrong, and try not to make such a mess with the rest of the fish. He'd just have to pay attention to what he was doing and stop thinking about... other things.
He sucked on the inside of his lower lip, tasting the sweet salty taste of the melon Noelani must have just been eating. His mouth and other parts of him still tingled from her kiss, his thoughts definitely on something other than fish.
He sighed, laid the fish down on the stump, wiped his hands on his pants without thinking, then reached up to push back the bandana tied over his head�made from one of his worn-out T-shirts. His hair had grown so long it hung in his eyes whenever he worked. He would have cut it, but Noelani protested when he'd mentioned it, claiming she liked the near-blonde sun-bleached color and the fact that it was long enough for her to properly run her fingers through.
Taking a breath, Daniel focused his thoughts on his less than pleasurable task, and picked up the fish again, scraped his knife over the sides, working carefully this time.
"Dani!"
He jumped at the sound of Noelani's terrified, breathless voice, saw her sprinting toward him, her face and bare arms scratched by thorns and branches. She couldn�t have been gone longer than fifteen minutes.
"What?" Daniel let the fish fall from his hands, rushed to meet her, a wave of fear coursing through him. "What is it?"
She stopped in front of him, struggled to catch her breath. Daniel grasped her upper arms and could feel the tremors racing through her body. "Slow down, just tell me what's the matter."
"Demons," she gulped out. "Demons are here, Dani! I saw them. I saw a... a great structure. It came from the air, like a giant bird. Fire came from underneath it. Dani, it was just like you described."
Daniel felt the blood drain from his face. God, no. Not again. Please, not again.
"Where?" he said, when he found his voice. It came out steely, deceptively calm. Inside, his blood was running cold with fear and encompassing fury.
"By... by the cliffs," she gasped, unable to extricate her arms from his grip. "What do they want?"
Daniel's mind raced frantically. He tried to imagine what the Goa'uld would want with an uninhabited planet. He looked at Noelani. "I want you to hide�that place you showed me where you used to hide from your brother. Go there, and do not come out until I tell you it's safe, do you understand me?"
Noelani's eyes widened at the harshness of Daniel's usually gentle voice. "But-"
"No!" Daniel gave her a light shake. "Please, Noeli�do as I say."
She stared wide-eyed at him. The look of fear, and more shocking, the incandescent hatred marring Daniel's features silenced any further protests. Her throat tightened with terror. She nodded mutely, and Daniel released his tight grip on her arms.
"Go," he urged with a wave. "I'll come find you soon. I promise."
She nodded again, reached to touch his arm as he passed by her, and headed for the trees. Her fingers barely brushed his tanned skin, she watched his retreating back for just a moment, then ran for her hiding place.
*****
Daniel crept low through the trees, hunting knife gripped in his hand. He reasoned that it must be a transport ship, or a death glider, otherwise he would have seen and heard a larger ship. He could only hope and pray that it was a wayward glider�one Goa'uld he could probably take out if he had the element of surprise on his side. If it were a transport ship... he didn't even allow himself to finish the thought. He snuck toward the cliffs, pulled out his binoculars.
He had to shift his position to see the top of the flat precipice where he and Noelani liked to watch the suns set, cursing under his breath when a twig snapped loudly under his boot. Adjusting the focus, Daniel could make out the peaked metallic upper portion of the roof of a ship. Frowning, he focused in on the figures standing beside. His heart raced, his hands trembled slightly, the enlarged image in front of his eyes shaking in time.
No, it couldn't be, he told himself. He looked through the lenses again, tried to zoom in more. Dark hair, brown tunic, then an older man, balding, with slightly stooped posture passed across the lens view. Daniel's arms suddenly felt numb and he allowed the binoculars, held in place by the neck strap, to drop back to his chest with a thump.
Without thinking, he darted up the path he and Noelani had recreated, tearing through the wayward branches ripping at his clothing and skin. A branch caught at his shirt, pulling at the leather before giving way with a sharp snap. He felt the bandana being ripped from his head by a low-hanging branch. Twigs clawed at his face, and he ducked, swiping a hand over his face and smearing a tiny a streak of blood on his cheek, but he hardly felt the sting of his scratched skin. Daniel forced himself to slow down, to calm himself just before reaching the clearing.
He stopped, leaned forward for a moment, hands resting on his knees while he caught his breath. Waited until his respiration and heart rate had attained a semblance of normalcy before he started walking again. Taking a deep breath, he stepped from the shelter of the trees as nonchalantly as he could.
The two figures turned, raised their zats. Pointed them at him, their faces filled with surprise at Daniel�s sudden appearance. Another figure emerged from the ship, then froze, as startled as his companions.
Daniel raised his hands, and he couldn't help the grin stretching across his face. "Hello, Aldwin. Jacob."
The two men nearest him exchanged a look, frowned in confusion, then Jacob's face softened with shock, with recognition. "Daniel?"
"Yeah, it's me," Daniel answered, aware that he was still grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't stop.
Jacob's mouth gaped open in disbelief. He tucked his zat back onto his belt, rushed up to Daniel and grasped him around the shoulders, matching his grin, staring at him in wonder. "Jeez, Danny, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Daniel answered, then burst out laughing, feeling near hysterical with the conflicting emotions that had passed through him in such a short amount of time.
Jacob. The Tok'ra. Here. What were the chances of that? Daniel laughed again, shook his head in happy, utter disbelief. God, the math. Sam would have a field day calculating the astronomical odds.
Jacob continued to watch him in astonishment. He realized that he had never heard Daniel laugh before and it was a wonderful sound. He pulled the younger man to his chest, hugged him with unexpected affection and ruffled Daniel's long hair before releasing him. "We thought you were gone for good this time, kid."
Daniel took a few deep breaths, slowly managed to get his scattered emotions under control and wiped his eyes. "I thought so, too."
He looked at the Tok'ra ship, and couldn�t stop smiling. The dull, dusty, metal looked far more beautiful than the alleged diamond chariot Dazhbog's namesake had been said to have ridden.
*****
"This planet used to be one of our bases. We originally thought it was uninhabited. When we realized there were a few scattered groups of people living here, we cleared out, but we still like to keep tabs on them in case our presence attracted Goa'uld activity," Jacob explained.
Daniel walked close beside the older man, watching the ground as he walked, deliberately keeping his pace slow, still trying to get his rattled emotions in check.
It was strange to be speaking English again. The words were unmelodious in comparison the Egyptian he spoke so effortlessly and so unconsciously with Noelani, but in a way it was good, almost comforting to hear the language of his home again.
"We were especially concerned when the Stargate became submerged underwater about 60 years ago," Jacob continued as casually as if they were back at the SGC instead of on some unnamed, alien habitat. "We thought maybe the Goa'uld had attacked, but it turned out to be a case of a few years of monsoons that nearly flooded half the planet," Jacob paused to pick up a large stick in his path, tapped it against the rocky ground as they walked.
Daniel took in the man�s words, processing and analyzing them the same way as if he�d been sitting at the huge table in the briefing room, scribbling down his observations in his notebook. That briefing room, the base, everything really, seemed to have happened a long time ago, almost to someone else, so greatly had Daniel come to accept the fact that he�d never see that world, that life again. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, something like fear or anticipation�something he wasn�t quite ready to acknowledge yet.
Jacob stopped walking, realized that Daniel wasn�t replying to anything he was saying. He stared at Daniel incredulously again, marveling at the sheer fact that the younger man was standing right in front of him, alive and well. "How the hell did you manage to survive emerging from an underwater wormhole, kid?" Jacob shook his head, still amazed at Daniel's story of how he had come to be a castaway.
Daniel smiled. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Well, Jack wasn't kidding when he said you had nine lives," Jacob told him. "I think I'm going to have to start calling you Morris."
"Oh, I really wish you wouldn't," Daniel said, wincing. They walked in silence down the slope for a moment. Something occurred to Daniel suddenly. "Jacob, do you know of any Goa'uld who might have visited this planet recently? Came here alone, maybe?"
Jacob looked down. He thought about the question for a moment and when he looked up again, his features were arranged impassively and Selmac answered for him. "Not recently, no. Most likely there were, thousands of years ago, when they transplanted people to this planet. We had our base here nearly one hundred and fifty years ago, and there were no Goa'uld then, nor any recent traces of them."
"Nearly one hundred and fifty years ago," Daniel mused, his mind forming a quick realization. "Was there ever a Tok'ra among you named Flavian?"
Selmac used Jacob's face to look at Daniel in surprise, then nodded. "How do you know of Flavian?"
Daniel ignored Selmac's question, looked at him intently. "Was he ever on this planet?"
"Yes, he was among us then. He became quite fond of the people after we had encountered them. Flavian was very passionate. He did nothing but wander the dunes on our first base, and then the forests here. He could never keep his mind on his tasks and his mission." Selmac shook his head, still irritated with his wayward comrade even after so many years.
"Flavian, unfortunately, had offered himself up as a host not quite understanding what it meant to devote yourself to the Tok'ra cause," Selmac continued. "I suspect he only did it for the longevity, and he very quickly came to miss living as a human and having a simple human life. He tried to sneak away to do just that with the people on this island, but he eventually came to his senses and rejoined us in our battle."
"Yes, I'm sure he came to his senses, and realized the error of his ways," Daniel responded, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Typical Tok'ra arrogance, he thought, pulling a wry face and reining in his irritation. He was surprised that he'd almost forgotten about that attitude of theirs. "What happened to Flavian?" Daniel asked after a moment.
"He was killed in a battle with Sokar about ten years back," Selmac said. "Why?"
Daniel explained Flavian's short legacy on the planet, how he had probably, unwittingly, left his mark on the people. Daniel felt an odd satisfaction in leaving Selmac speechless with shock at his words. Secretly pleased that he had been able to ruffle the Tok'ra's usually unflappable demeanor.
"You know, Daniel..."
Daniel glanced at the man beside him, saw that Jacob was back in control.
"Flavian�s symbiote, Sevra, was a bit of a loose cannon, too. They were both restless, but Selmac thinks Sevra was the one who in the end, decided that his destiny was to be amongst the Tok�ra. Flavian probably didn�t have much say in the matter, or maybe he thought he�d be able to return one day."
Listening to Jacob�s words, Daniel decided that Flavian was one Tok'ra he would have liked to have met. He found himself wondering how difficult it had been for Flavian to have to leave his chosen people. Daniel thought of the horrible, fateful day he'd left Abydos behind, how it had nearly torn his heart in two.
As they neared the hut, Dazhbog decided to make his presence known from wherever he had been hiding. He clambered off a tree, hopped neatly onto Daniel's shoulder.
Jacob jumped back, moved to pull his zat from his belt, his eyes flashing gold-white.
"No, don't!" Daniel raised his hand, then gathered Dazh protectively in his arms, turning his body away from the zat, shielding his pet from harm. "He's... uh, he's friendly! It's okay."
Jacob blinked at him, the older general once more back in control. "Sure, fine." He shook his head again. "I think we have a lot to talk about."
Daniel slowly relaxed his grip on Dazh, and the animal jumped down to the ground, sniffing at Daniel's feet and keeping a wary gaze on Jacob.
As Daniel watched Jacob place his zat on his belt again, he had a sudden, irrational moment of regret. A moment where he wished he'd stayed hidden in the trees, waited until Jacob and Aldwin returned to their ship and left Daniel and his new life alone.
"Daniel?' Jacob frowned at him. Daniel had all but frozen in place, his eyes fixed on Jacob's zat as if he'd never seen one before. His mouth was slightly open, an expression that seemed almost fearful creasing his features.
No, Jacob realized, looking closer at Daniel. The younger man looked upset, ready to bolt. He laid his hand on Daniel�s shoulder, felt the slight tremble. "You all right?"
Daniel blinked, startled. His muscles were bunched up, tensed. He realized that he'd been staring at the zat on Jacob's belt for too long. The weapon, the symbiote, the ship, the never-ending Goa'uld threat�all things he thought he'd left behind for good. Things he thought he'd never have to worry about again. He tore his gaze away, met Jacob's warm, concerned brown eyes.
Daniel wondered why he hadn�t had the foresight not to have shown himself and not to have run out from his cover so blindly, so irrationally. But something inside him, some instinct had made him run from that spot, and he knew he couldn't truly regret what his soul had pushed him to do.
No, making himself known to Jacob and the others was the right thing to do. It was the right decision and ultimately what he�d wanted, and he couldn�t deny it. Even if the decision brought with it an innumerable amount of unwelcome complications to his renewed happiness. To his sanctuary.
It'll be okay. It's just a little much to take in right now, Daniel tried to reassure himself. Too late to turn back now, anyway.
"Yes we do have a lot to talk about, " he finally answered, relieved that he�d managed to speak without his voice wavering. "But first, I'd like you to meet someone."
*****
Jacob followed Daniel to a small clearing and took a moment to study the younger man more closely now that he'd had enough time to overcome his shock at finding him.When Daniel had emerged from the trees, grinning from ear to ear, Jacob hadn't even at first recognized him. Even with his glasses on, Daniel looked more like a renegade Tok'ra warrior than the solemn, scholarly man Jacob had come to know. Daniel wore a simple leather tunic, the sleeves rolled up to reveal sinewy, well-muscled forearms, and a ragged pair of green camo pants�torn and patched at the knees. His cropped hair had grown out to past his collar, the strands streaked by the harshness of the suns. He had lost a good deal of weight he hadn't needed to lose, and his cheekbones were sharp and prominent under eyes that seemed bluer and more piercing against his tanned skin.
Even more surprising than the physical changes were the differences in the young man's demeanor. Jacob thought that Daniel no longer seemed clouded and defeated by circumstances, made cautious from bad experience. Instead, he seemed alert, intense with self-assurance, even in the midst of what had to have been an incredible ordeal.
They stepped up to a small clearing, and Jacob glanced around, taking in the small, neat hut and the lush, carefully arranged garden. Thin, reedy sticks held up the plants, twists of driftwood bordered the vegetation from the rest of the ground.
"Where is everybody?" Jacob asked, looking around for furtive villagers. The entire island seemed deserted, eerily quiet. He'd expected to encounter the curious and friendly natives once they got further into the clearing, but there was no one. He and the other Tok'ra had been surprised when they'd landed and not one single islander had come to greet them, or at least stare at their ship from afar, thinking they were safely hidden in the trees. It had been a long time since any Tok'ra had been on the planet, but Jacob couldn't imagine anything outside a Goa'uld attack causing such disruption.
"I'll explain everything in a minute, Jacob," Daniel said, all but bouncing on the toes of his boots with sudden impatience. "There is someone still left here, but I told her to hide until it was safe to come out. I'll just go get her, all right? She's the one I wanted you to meet."
Jacob nodded in reply and frowned with confusion as to why Daniel was being so hesitant in answering his questions. He watched as the younger man turned in the opposite direction from which they'd come and sprinted through the trees. Hearing a rustle coming from behind him, Jacob saw the strange alien creature that had jumped on Daniel earlier emerge from the underbrush, studying him the same way Jacob figured he must have just been studying Daniel.
"Hey, critter," Jacob said. "So what are you supposed to be, huh? This planet's version of a housecat?"
Dazhbog tilted his head, chirped and waddled cautiously up to Jacob. The older man crouched down and patted the silky head, at the same time, wondering what the hell he was doing. For the umpteenth time, Jacob found himself still incredulous at the different situations in which he'd found himself since beginning his new life as a host.
*****
Daniel tore through the forest, dodging low-hanging branches, hurtling over gnarled, upraised roots. It took him a moment to find the cave�it was so obscured by the thick vegetation, and in the rattled state his nerves were in, he realized he'd nearly run right past it.
"Noeli!" He pushed back the branches in front of the mouth of the cave, stepped halfway inside and saw her huddled against the stone, almost hidden by the shadows, close to the entrance. There was a vague outline of her body, and something large and threatening in her hands.
He ducked instinctively. "Hey! It's me! Everything's okay!" he nearly shouted, raising his hands protectively when he saw that she had armed herself with a large, knotty stick readying to swing it at him.
Noelani stared at him wide-eyed, then lowered the stick, allowing it to drop from her hands. She threw herself at him, and he caught her, stumbling a few steps backward, bringing them both outside the cave.
She gave him a frantic, breath-stealing embrace, stepped back to look him over. "Dani! Are you all right? What about the demons? Have they left? Did they harm you?" She ran her hands down his arms, then up to his branch-scratched face, searching for signs of injury.
He took hold of her hands, kissed her, a smile lighting his eyes. "Everything's fine, honey. They're not demons, they're... friends. Very good friends." As he spoke the words the reality fully sank in, and a tremendous sense of relief flooded over him, making him feel drained, exhausted, his limbs heavy and trembling with the cessation of fear. He pulled her to him, suddenly needing to feel her safe and close in his arms.
When he'd expected Jacob's ship to be a Goa'uld ship, he knew with an absolute certainty that he would have gone mad if he'd been forced to watch Noelani being taken by the parasitic race. Thought they would have had to kill him and Noelani first, before he'd ever allow that to happen to anyone he loved again.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her, tucked his face against her neck, breathed in her familiar scent. Forced himself not to think. He didn't want to think about anything other than the fact that she was safe, and he didn't have to face his worst nightmare again. They were safe and he wasn't going to think about how Jacob's arrival had altered everything so irrevocably. Not yet.
"Dani?" Noelani pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and found she couldn't read the expression in the blue depths. He seemed overwhelmed, and she realized that he must have been as terrified as she had been.
She carefully laid her hand on his scratched cheek. "Are you certain that you are all right?" He was shaking visibly and struggling to control the shuddering breaths racking his body. Caressing his cheek and brushing a sweat-dampened lock of hair from his face, she said, "Dani, please tell me that you are all right."
He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. When he looked at her again, he seemed calmer. He gave her a smile that seemed oddly sad. "I'm okay, everything's okay," he said, but it seemed as if he were talking more to himself than to her.
Daniel wondered if he had convinced her, because he most certainly wasn't sure that everything was okay. Wasn't sure what new path his impulsive soul had led them onto when he'd shown himself to Jacob. Once again, he wondered what the fates had in store for him, and for Noelani. Wondered how much control one had over the events that disrupted your life time and time again.
Maybe all you could do was take that first step, and see where it brought you.
He glanced down again before taking Noelani's hand, his motions suddenly decisive. "Come on, I'd like you to meet one of my friends." Daniel started negotiating the thick underbrush, tugging gently on her hand. "I'll explain everything as we go, okay? But you have nothing to fear from him."
Despite Daniel's reassurances, Noelani found that her unease had only heightened. Seeing him struggling so greatly to rein in his residual fear had only renewed hers. She knew she had come to rely on his quiet strength and assurance, and because of that, she followed him, but her motions were hesitant, cautious.
As she walked alongside Daniel, she readied herself to face another stranger for the first time in so long. When it had been just her and Jehiah, she had sometimes felt as if her grip on her memories and cognition had been as tremulous as Jehiah's. She knew that Daniel's arrival had saved her life as surely as she had helped save him from the fever and the lure of the spirits.
She suddenly didn't want to share Daniel with the stranger. Wanted things to remain the same. She felt her grip on Daniel's hand loosening as she walked slower, while he maintained his pace. Kept slowing her steps as if she could delay the inevitable. Force back the tides of change.
Daniel glanced behind him at the tug on his hand when she all but stopped. "Noeli?"
She looked up from her feet, forced herself to meet his gaze, though she knew her eyes were tear-filled and wary. He gave her another sad, heartbreaking smile and she knew he understood. Hoped that he shared some of her reluctance in allowing someone to alter their lives in ways she couldn't even begin to imagine.
Once back outside their hut, she saw a man about the same age as her father had been before the fever took him. The man was strangely dressed�his clothing even more unfamiliar than Daniel's almost worn-out ones.
To her surprise, he held Dazhbog in his arms, petting the animal cautiously, like he halfway expected Dazh to bite off his fingers. Taking his kindness to the creature as a good sign, Noelani thought perhaps she did have nothing to fear from him, as Daniel had said.
The stranger saw them, carefully placed Dazhbog on the ground and stepped up to them, smiling.
"Noelani, this is my friend, Jacob," Daniel said, then repeated the introduction in English for the man's benefit. Jacob held out his hand in greeting. Noelani warily looked at the proffered hand and glanced at Daniel for confirmation.
Daniel smiled at her and nodded. "It's okay�Jacob is a very good man. Do you remember my friend, Sam, who I told you about?" he waited until she nodded. "This is her father. He comes from the same world that I do, and you can trust him, all right?"
Noelani once more trusted Daniel�s word and gave the stranger a tentative smile, and offered her hand. Jacob clasped it gently in his warm, dry one and smiled at her again before releasing it.
Daniel redirected his gaze to Jacob. "She's a little shy because she'd been pretty much alone for a long time before I got here, so could you... um, not do the glowing eyes, creepy voice thing for a while? At least... until she gets used to you?"
Jacob suppressed a chuckle. " Sure. Fine. Selmac's Egyptian is pretty rusty anyway, so why don't you just keep translating for me, here?"
"Okay," Daniel said. "Thanks, Jacob."
"Now are you going to let me in on what the hell happened here?" Jacob said, his impatience starting to grow. "Where are all the people? What happened to them?"
Daniel glanced at Noelani, then at his feet for a moment. He'd taught her enough English for her to be able to follow at least some of their conversation, so he chose his words carefully.
"Everyone's dead, Jacob." He paused at the look of surprise on Jacob's face. "The people all came down with a... plague, or fever of some sorts." He explained how Noelani and Jehiah had been the only survivors, and how they had been alone for nearly five years until Daniel had come.
Noticing the slight frown on Noelani's face at the mention of Jehiah's name, Daniel stroked her arm and looked deeply into her eyes while he told Jacob his story. How she had taken care of him, how she had saved his life, and how together, Daniel and Noelani had laid Jehiah to rest. By the warmth of his tone and the comfort of his touch, he thought that Noelani was able to understand perhaps not his words but his heartfelt sentiment.
Jacob looked at Noelani with sympathy. Couldn't even begin to imagine what the loss of her people had been like for her. "At least the people on the mainland seem to be fine," he said, his voice soft as he looked around at his surroundings. He glanced at the home she and Daniel had made for themselves. At the still, silent forest, thinking of the graveyard, which Daniel had described that lay not far beyond, where all her people had been laid to rest.
He noticed Daniel and Noelani had become much too quiet. Jacob looked at Daniel and saw that the younger man was staring at him, shock evident on his face, his mouth slack with surprise.
"The mainland?" Daniel finally said, shaking his head slightly, thinking he'd misunderstood. "Do... do you mean there's more people on this planet?"
Jacob nodded, his brow creased with concern. Had they not known? "Yes, the mainland's not far from here. There's only about two hundred or so people though, just a small village."
Noelani's wild focus darted across Daniel's bewildered face, desperately trying to absorb some of the unfathomable information from him. She urged him to tell her what Jacob had said, so Daniel translated, finding his own words difficult to take in even as he spoke them.
"Another village..." Noelani whispered, her eyes wide. She leaned against Daniel, her legs suddenly gone rubbery, and he quickly put his arms around her waist, holding her up. Daniel could feel her trembling against him.
"Let's go inside for a minute," Daniel said in English to Jacob, and kept his arm around Noelani's waist as they stepped into the hut. They sat in the chairs by the fireplace, allowing Noelani a chance to regain her bearings.
"You mean... all this time, there have been more people here?" Daniel said after a long moment of silence and configurations. He and Noelani had dealt with their loneliness for months, had commingled their isolation to form a life together, only to find out there had been people nearby the whole time. Daniel shook his head and nearly laughed at the irony.
"Yeah, there are�but you never would have made it there by any of the primitive boats they have here, Danny. It's much too far," Jacob said, reading Daniel's thoughts too clearly from the look at bemusement on his face.
"There aren�t any boats here, anyway," Daniel said quietly under his breath, "not anymore." Noelani had told him that Aleron and Ilias had taken the largest fishing boat, and the only other one had been irreparably damaged and fell into the sea after a storm a few years back. Daniel knew the quiet words he had spoken were irrelevant, but in a way, it was a relief to know that there was nothing he could have done differently to ease the isolation of his and Noelani's lives. An isolation that had become their own private world.
In the tumult within his mind, with Jacob's new, amazing information swirling like an eddy, Daniel almost forgot that Noelani would have missed most of it. His face shot up. He nervously tapped his fingers against his mouth and scrambled to form a coherent thought. When he translated for Noelani again, he tried to lessen the enormity of his words by keeping his voice soft.
She pondered what he said, and with each word, she sat up straighter, her eyes grew wider.
"Dani, do you realize what this means? Ilias and Aleron were right! There truly is another land beyond the sea!"
But then, when the full realization of what Daniel had told her became clear, that it was too far to reach the land by boat, she brusquely pushed aside any hope she might have still retained from all those years ago. She had already mourned for Aleron and Ilias, there was no sense in resurrecting their ghosts.
She tried not to think of Aleron, the long ago, gentle little boy who then had seemed such a nuisance to her. Tried not to think of the kind, quiet man he had become and how he had come to the end of his life. She could only hope that he and Ilias had found their own peace on the sea, so far from home, so lost from their loved ones.
"Would you be able to take us to the mainland, Jacob?" Daniel asked, glancing at Noelani, seeing the mingled looks of excitement, fear and the familiar sadness passing her features. He couldn't even imagine how overwhelming this must be for her�his own heart was racing at the thought of another civilization not far from their isolated corner of the planet.
"I can take you there now, if you like," Jacob said.
Daniel nodded and thanked him softly.
"Yeah, I'll take you there," Jacob continued, still thinking. "And after that, I can take you to a planet with a Stargate and get you back to the SGC, too." He looked at Daniel closely, and the younger man seemed almost startled at the prospect of going home.
Daniel's brows drew into a frown, he dropped his gaze and chewed on his lip for a moment. He nodded his head once, curtly, showing Jacob that he had heard both parts of his offer, but that he was in no position to discuss the second half. He was not ready to deal with that. Not yet.
Daniel took a breath, turned to face Noelani. "He said he'd take us to the mainland if we'd like," he told her, careful to leave out the rest, knowing there would be time to discuss that later. It was a time for finding others, not facing having to make a decision Daniel wasn't sure he'd be able to make.
"Wh-what are these people like?" Noelani asked, her voice uncertain, fearful. "Has he seen them?"
Daniel translated her question. Jacob looked at her, and Selmac noticed for the first time the trace resemblance to the Tok'ra, Flavian, who had been plagued with wanderlust from the first moment he had taken his symbiote.
"The people, I suppose, are very much like those that have... passed on from your village," Jacob answered. "We spent the last few days getting to know them as much as we could with the language barrier, but they are a very friendly, peaceful people. I do know they would welcome you."
And while Jacob spoke, Daniel quietly translated, keeping his eyes lowered so that the words would pass through his mind as effortlessly as possible.
Noelani listened to Daniel's soft voice, and the incredible words he spoke. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms tight over her stomach, feeling almost sick with the realization that kindred of hers still lived, still had a village, families with children. A life she thought had been taken from her forever. The prospect of meeting those mysterious people was still too unbelievable to fully comprehend, but she couldn't help but try to imagine what they would be like, how it would feel to be part of a village once more.
At the same time, she had been content in her life with Daniel, happy for the first time in such a long time. She glanced at Jacob with something close to anger, wondering why the gods had decided to bring forth this cataclysmic turn of events. Why they had turned her and Daniel's world upside down.
Daniel noticed Noelani withdrawing into herself, her posture slumped, her forehead creased with worry. He could all but see her thoughts racing.
"Jacob?" He turned to the older man, his voice soft. "Do you mind giving us a minute?"
Jacob leaned forward, grasped Daniel's shoulder. "Sure. I'll go check with Aldwin and have him prepare to take off�in case we need to."
"Thank you," Daniel said. "We'll come meet you there in a little while."
Jacob nodded, then stood, pushed back his chair and stepped from the hut, closing the door behind him.
Daniel turned to Noelani, gave her a reassuring smile. He rubbed her arm, watched her troubled face. "Are you all right, Noeli?"
She let out a derisive laugh. "I do not know. I cannot believe this, Dani," she said, shaking her head. "There are more people here. To... to think that if you had not come here, I would have spent the rest of my days alone, never once knowing."
Daniel nodded. "I know, but this is a good thing, right? Perhaps these people are ancestors of yours."
"Perhaps."
"Do you want to do this, Noeli?" Daniel asked, looking at her, worried. "I mean... you don't have to, if you don't want to."
She shook her head. "No. I want to. I am... I am being foolish," she said, and then smiling sheepishly she admitted, "and a little afraid." She looked up at him with eyes overly bright from a glimmering of tears.
"I know," he said, his voice gentle, sliding his chair closer to hers and taking her hands in his. "It is all right to be afraid, but it's going to be okay." He leaned forward to kiss her and gave her an encouraging smile. "Think of this as a marvelous adventure�like the ones I told you about."
Noelani laughed softly, then nodded. "It is an adventure, is it not? You must think I am very cowardly after all that you have seen."
"Of course not," Daniel reassured her. "I think you are one of the bravest people I have ever met. And you know what?"
She tilted her head, frowning slightly. "What?"
"I am a little nervous about this myself," Daniel told her. He gazed down at the floor, hiding the uncertainty in his eyes, his words hesitant. "It has been just the two of us for a while, and... and it was... it is so good between us. It feels safe, and wonderful, and-" He stopped talking, smiled shyly, still looking down. "I don't know what I'm trying to say."
She released one of her hands from his and reached up to gently touch his face. "I know exactly what you are trying to say, Dani."
He met her gaze, and their eyes locked, each of them knowing that once they did this, once they stepped off their sanctuary, everything would change and there would be no going back.
"How will we get there?" she finally asked, preparing herself for the inevitable.
"We'll go in Jacob's ship," he told her, knowing the simple details were a way of distracting themselves from the implications of what they were about to do. Knowing that their life together seemed on the threshold of becoming irreversibly altered. "It may look a little frightening, but it's a lot of fun, actually."
"Will the ship go by sea, or will it take to the air?" she asked, trepidation in her voice.
"By air, but trust me, I've done it many times so there is nothing to worry about."
Noelani nodded, raising her chin with resolve and determination. She summoned the old reserve of strength that had seen her through so much. "All right. I am ready. Let us go on this adventure."
*****
A mere hour later, Noelani and Daniel were seated in the back of the ship, Jacob, Aldwin and the other Tok'ra, Giles, at the helm. Daniel gazed at the metallic interior encasing him, the alien, yet familiar technology such a reminder of the life he thought he had left behind. He found himself once again amazed at how quickly life could change, throw you off-kilter, hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath in between. Just as soon as you found yourself settling in, accepting the circumstances fate presented you with, something always, inevitably disrupted it.
He shifted in his seat, tried to straighten the arm Noelani was clutching. From her death grip on him, Daniel was certain that in a few hours he'd have a perfect imprint of bruises in the shape of Noelani's small fingers. On her face was an almost comical mixture of thrill and terror. Luckily, the trip was short�not even half an hour�and then the small craft landed with a soft thump under their feet.
The Tok'ra warriors stayed at the helm, preparing the ship for docking, while Jacob came to the back.
"Ready?" Jacob asked with an expectant look.
Daniel glanced at Noelani for confirmation. She was decidedly pale under her dark complexion. "You ready, Noeli?"
She took a few visible deep breaths before finally nodding, keeping her tight grip on Daniel's arm. As they stood and went to the open door, she stopped. "Dani..."
He laid his other hand on her back, ducking his head to look into her eyes. "What is it?"
"What if... what...." She paused, tried to collect her scattered thoughts, tried to articulate the renewed fear halting her in her tracks.
Daniel gave her a reassuring smile, thankfully understanding. "It'll be okay, and I'll be right here with you the whole time, all right?"
She nodded, looked out the open doorway, at the land she had tried so hard to imagine. Its reality was incredible, difficult to comprehend.
Noelani stepped out the door and glanced down at the ground. Instead of rock, there was dirt and sand and more open land than she had ever seen. There were still scattered patches of trees, only they were sparsely distributed, their trunks thinner, taller than the ones to which she was accustomed. The openness of the space and sky above her nearly made her feel dizzy, vulnerable.
"Come on, I'll take you to the village," Jacob said, striding forward, leading the way.
Noelani hesitated for a moment, then felt Daniel's reassuring presence beside her, and she steeled herself to face the unknown.
Set back in the trees, nestled against a smoothly sloping hill, lay the village. There were rows of huts interspersed with tangles of gardens, exotic flowers growing everywhere and brightening the landscape with splashes of red, purple and bright yellow. A huge fire pit marked the center of the village, surrounded by small, colorful tents containing vegetables and cloth.
The people looked just as Noelani's lost ones had. Dark hair, dark eyes. It made her heart wrench to look at them. So familiar, and yet strangers. Many of the people paused to stare with interest at Jacob, Daniel and Noelani as they stepped unexpected and uninvited into their world. Uninvited, but not unwelcome from the looks of greeting on their open, friendly faces.
The people seemed to recognize and trust Jacob, and relaxed when he greeted them and introduced Daniel and Noelani. She felt a strange hybrid of joy and terror at seeing so many faces at one time.
More curious faces appeared, eager to greet the visitors, crowding around them, marveling at the foreignness of Daniel's coloring and how much Noelani seemed their kindred. She shrank back against Daniel overwhelmed, and he noticed her fear, positioning himself in front of her, speaking words of reassurance. She was too bewildered to take note of what he said, but just the sound of his voice was enough to help calm her.
A sudden odd, almost tingling sensation passed through Noelani and she looked out from behind the safety of Daniel's back. Her gaze met with a man's inexplicably familiar eyes. Dark charcoal gray in color, straight, even teeth like hers. He stared at her and his smile of welcome faded.
Noelani felt her breath catch, and she stepped out from behind Daniel. Time seemed to have slowed. Everyone but the man in front her seemed to fade and become transparent. She vaguely heard Daniel call her name, sounding worried, but she couldn't answer him. Noelani took a few steps forward, eyes locked on the other man's. She faltered, uncertain, then stopped. Searched his face again.
"Aleron?" She heard her voice come out as a soft disbelieving whisper.
The man stared at her, his features slack with shock. "Noelani?"
She nodded, felt tears springing to her eyes. She brought her hands to her mouth to stifle the cry of joy that wanted to spill forth, scarcely daring to believe that it was true, that the man standing in front of her was truly made of flesh and bone.
He rushed to her, crushed her against him in his arms, laughing, crying, repeating her name over and over.
"My big sister, I never thought I would see you again," he wept against her neck.
Noelani held him tighter, unable to speak just yet, her own joyous tears speaking far more of her ebullience and relief than any words could have sufficed.
*****
When the two had recovered enough to speak, they both gazed upon each other's faces, studied each other's features to see the changes brought by the passage of time. Both began to speak at once, rambled, hurried questions, exclamations of wonder and amazement. They laughed through their tears at their mingled, disjointed words, and each took a breath, tried to calm their overwhelming excitement and joy.
Aleron finally framed Noelani�s face in his trembling hands. "I cannot believe you are here! Are you... are you well, my sister?" he said, and searched her eyes for the answers to questions he thought he would never know, unable to ask the most important question of all, just yet.
She nodded, still blinking back tears. When she spoke, her voice came out in a tremulous waver. "Yes, I am. And you?"
"Yes, I am�very well... Better now that�it... it is..." He shook his head, his mind swimming with possibilities. If Noelani were here, perhaps others would be coming, as well. "I cannot believe that you are standing here, right in front of me. Lani, the rest? How are they?"
She paused, had to look down, unable to meet his gaze. His old nickname for her that had stuck from when he was a small boy and couldn't properly say her name, gripped her heart, brought back a time when their days had been filled with hope and their hearts had been light. She took a deep breath, forced out the words she knew would stagger him. "They are all gone."
"All?" Aleron�s voice came out as a choked gasp.
"Yes."
Aleron's face drained of color, and it was more than he could possibly take in at once. So many gone...
He closed his eyes for a moment, let out a quiet, helpless sob, and tears of grief this time coursed down his face. Small hands took his, and when he opened his eyes again, he found that he was lost once more in the watery image of a sister he thought he'd only see once his time among the living was over. Through the tumult of his grief, her presence was a reprieve of consolation. That at least one of his own blood had been spared.
"Aleron," Noelani squeezed his hand in reassurance, "how did you come to be here? Jacob has told us that it too far to reach this land by boat. Is Ilias here, as well?"
Aleron wiped the tears from his face with his free hand, took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself, and explained that he would not have survived his journey to the mainland had it not been for a wayward fishing ship that had discovered him. The ship had been pushed far out to sea by a storm, and the fishermen's misfortune had turned out to be Aleron�s salvation.
He told her that Ilias had died within a few days of setting out to sea, having been overcome by the fever. Aleron's voice wavered slightly when he described how he'd had to push his friend's body into the ocean, saying a prayer so that the spirits would find the young man's soul in the watery depths.
Daniel stood close behind Noelani, and as he listened to Aleron's words, he immediately thought of Jehiah, and with fondness and sadness, remembered how the old man had always watched the waves, as if he'd somehow known his beloved son was still out there.
Aleron continued by describing how he had been readying to embark on his own journey to the netherworld after an endless amount of time of drifting alone with scarcely any water or food. He had barely been breathing when the lost ship found him. It had taken weeks for the fishermen to make it home to the mainland, and had taken Aleron many more months to recover. When he did recover, Aleron had been horrified, then heartbroken to discover that he could never return to his home and to see what had become of his family, his people.
In time, Aleron had come to accept his fate and became one with the villagers. He had married and he and his wife had just celebrated the birth of their second child just over six months prior.
He took Noelani's hand, a proud smile breaking through on his face and led her through the crowd of people. They stopped in front of a plump, pretty young woman and she smiled in greeting.
"Noelani, this is my wife, Medea," he told her, then gestured to the toddler whose hand the woman held. "And this is Ilias, named to remember my best friend. And this," he continued, gently touching the small dark head of the infant in her other arm, "is Cerelia."
Noelani blinked back yet more tears, smiled at the baby the young woman held. "For our mother," she said, nodding, her gaze meeting with Aleron�s own tear-filled eyes.
"I have heard a great deal about you," Medea said, looking at Noelani with something close to wonder. "Aleron speaks of you all the time. He has missed you."
Noelani still looked at her brother, at the face so dear to her heart. "And I missed him greatly, as well." She redirected her gaze to the woman and the two small children, and she felt a combination of happiness for her brother, and a small pang of regret for the family she and her lost husband had never been blessed to have.
"We welcome you here," Medea said, bowing her head slightly. She glanced down at a tug on her hand. The little boy, Ilias, had leaned up against her, his cheeks pink and eyes drooping with fatigue. "I am afraid these little ones are growing tired. I should bring them home to their beds."
Aleron nodded, scooped young Ilias up in his arms. The little boy laid his head on his father's shoulder, cuddling up in the position so familiar to him�one of sleep, comfort, and warmth. Aleron urged them all to come see the home and the life he had made for himself.
Daniel moved to follow Noelani and her newly found family, but he noticed Jacob staying behind. He turned his head, looked at the older man. "Jacob, are you coming?"
"Nah, I think I better go tell the others that we�ll be staying a while longer," he said with a smile. "You go ahead, and I'll come find you later."
Daniel nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Jacob." He smiled at Jacob's answering nod. Daniel turned his back on Jacob and the man's representation of home. It felt strange to be turning away from that familiarity, and to follow Noelani into a world in which he suddenly felt he had no place. No right to invade.
He faltered a moment, startled by the strong sensation of displacement. Noelani turned to look at him and she spoke his name softly, questioningly. He summoned a smile, caught up with her and she tucked her hand in his arm, pressing close against him as they walked, and the tender gesture made him feel a little more at ease.
Daniel and Noelani continued to follow the young family through the village under the watchful, inquisitive gaze of the villagers. Daniel stayed close by Noelani, but took in his surroundings as they stepped through the settlement. The village brought back more reminders of Abydos. The scattered homes, the random snatches of conversation as they passed, the people�s camaraderie with one another was so much the same.
They went up to a small, neat hut, similar to the one he and Noelani shared. Inside there were more similarities. A roughly carved eye of Horus adorned one wall, a small depiction of Amun, in the same pose as the statue guarding the graveyard on the island stood on a shelf. Daniel wondered if Aleron had carved it himself as a reminder of his lost family.
Once they had tucked their sleeping children into bed, Aleron and Medea joined them around a small table. Noelani sat close beside Daniel, Aleron and Medea across from them.
Aleron met Noelani�s gaze, and his eyes became somber when the knowledge of his people's demise hit him once more with the force of an almost physical blow. "I cannot believe they are all gone," he whispered, tremulously close to renewed tears. "I should not have left you to have to face that alone. I am so sorry."
Noelani stood, moved to his side and pulled him to her in an embrace, rubbed his back, remembering the many times she had comforted him when he was a child. "Do not apologize, my little brother." And then she blushed at the description, feeling the breadth of his shoulders and noticing the faint lines around his eyes. "Maybe not so little anymore, I think," she said with a smile.
Aleron smiled as well, but just as quickly his countenance returned to the intent expression of remorse, and then grief. So, too, did Noelani's.
"There would have been nothing you could have done," she softly reassured him. "Perhaps it is what the gods wished, that you would find this land and a better life. There is no need for you to apologize. We have found one another again, and that it all that matters now."
He nodded against her shoulder, pulled back to gaze upon her face he thought he�d never see again. "Yes, we have found one another and I will not abandon you again�that I promise you," he said. "You must tell me how you managed on your own and how you came to be here."
Noelani paused to wipe away tears that had spilled down her face, smiled at him, happy despite how Aleron's grief tore at her heart. She felt that she would never grow tired of looking at him. In the five years since he had been gone, his features had lost all traces of the boy he had once been, and she thought he had grown into a fine, strong looking man. What remained the same were his gentle mannerisms and soft way of speaking. Mannerisms that were similar to Daniel's, she suddenly realized.
She moved back to her chair, but continued to hold her brother's hand and told him how she had been left alone with only Jehiah for company for so long. Glancing at Daniel, giving him a tear-filled smile, she then spoke of Daniel's miraculous arrival and how he had saved her from despair and how had been able to grant Jehiah some solace in his final days.
Aleron directed his gaze to Daniel, bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for bringing my sister back to me."
Daniel shook his head. "Do not thank me, thank Jacob, for he is the one who has brought us here."
Aleron nodded. "Then I will do so when he returns. But I must thank you, Dan-iel, for taking care of my sister. I am indebted to you."
"No�there is no need for you to thank me," Daniel said. "Noelani saved my life, I am the one who is indebted to her. Your sister is a very remarkable woman." Though he spoke the words to Aleron, he looked at Noelani. He wondered who had needed the other more back on the island. Wondered if now that she had found her family again, and that need was no longer so urgent, would the tie they shared begin to unravel?
Over the next few days, Aleron insisted that Daniel and Noelani stay in their home and had offered them a small, but warm, comfortable room in the back of the hut. In those few days, the people of the village already welcomed Noelani and Daniel as one of their own and it had taken little convincing for Noelani to decide that she wanted to live among them�a decision that didn�t surprise Daniel. He was happy that she had found her brother again, relieved that after her initial fear, she had taken so readily to the villagers, meshing with them as if she had known them all her life, their similarity to her own people such a comfort to her.
And even though their openness and easy acceptance was comforting to Daniel, as well, he felt as if he were more on the outside looking in. Like a bystander observing the culture as part of an anthropological study, rather than making a place for himself, as he had done so easily in the past, with the Abydonians.
He found himself growing restless, unable to sit still, for if he did, his thoughts would begin to race, wanting to analyze where he fit into this new world. His soul trying to comprehend which path to take. His heart fearful that it could not withstand another goodbye, but his mind knowing he would soon have to.
Daniel firmly pushed all that aside, unable to face dealing with his doubts and his fears just yet. He couldn't think of those things, couldn't bring himself to fully question where he belonged. He was afraid that if he did allow such musings, he would come to realize that he no longer belonged anywhere.
He felt himself withdrawing almost instinctively, drawing on those old habits learned so harshly in childhood�protecting himself from growing attached to the welcoming population without fully taking note of why he was doing so.
Daniel knew that he was distancing himself from Noelani, as well, giving her that time to become familiar with her family and the villagers without him. That was the rationalization he told himself, but he knew the real reason was far less magnanimous, and was more something closer to self-preservation
As he slowly wandered alone around the small settlement, becoming acquainted with the layout and the culture as a method of keeping his thoughts at bay, he noticed there were further traces of Earth influences, as well. Statues of Amun and Sekmet were scattered throughout the landscape, and the people's dialect was nearly identical to Noelani's.
The village lay so far in-land that Daniel could no longer breathe in the familiar redolence of the ocean. Could no longer hear the rush of the waves, though a part of his subconscious still continued to list with its motions, as if the ocean had become part of his internal rhythm.
Instead of brine, the scents around him were the combined aromas of various foods cooking. The air itself held a faint tinge of dust and smoke from the wood stoves. The sounds were the mingled voices of the villagers�men and woman conversing, children laughing, playing, darting around him as he walked. They were good sounds, sound of life, but Daniel missed the island and the ocean already. Missed its constancy and its peaceful escape.
He looked down, startled, when one child nearly banged into his legs. Placing a hand on the dark, curly head, he gently steered the boy around him. The child giggled, continued chasing his playmates. Daniel watched the children for a moment, smiling at their joyful antics, then stepped past one of the tents filled with fruits and brightly woven scarves.
An elderly woman called to him, beckoning him to come closer and giving him a cherubic, gap-toothed smile. "Perhaps your wife would like one of these?" she said, gesturing to the colorful fabric.
Daniel stepped up to the tent. He started to explain that Noelani wasn�t his wife, but decided against it. He found himself too out of sorts to even attempt to explain what they were to each other. How they had found such unexpected solace in one another.
"I know that she would greatly appreciate such beautiful work, but I have nothing to trade you," he said, giving the woman an apologetic smile.
She reached up a gnarled, wrinkled hand, patted Daniel's straight, blonde-streaked hair as if he were a large dog, and she looked into his foreign, bespectacled eyes, staring with amazement at the color so different, and so alien from the villagers� jet-black ones.
Daniel held still, patiently allowing her to marvel over him. He had become accustomed to such scrutiny from his days on Abydos. The first few weeks after he had been left alone on the alien desert, many of the Abydonians had felt the need to touch him with the same sense of wonder, as though he were a fascinating new discovery�which to them, he supposed he was. At least this time, he didn�t have to endure the scrutiny alone. Noelani�s pale eyes merited a similar interest, although not nearly so intense as Daniel�s. He also had the bonus of his glasses providing even more cause for curiosity and more hands reaching toward him, yearning to touch and to explore the strange adornment.
The woman tore away her gaze long enough to pluck a cerulean blue and purple scarf from the table, and pressed it in Daniel�s hand. "This one will go with well with her eyes. It is gift, to welcome you both to our land."
Daniel blinked, surprised at the woman�s kindness. He thanked her and took her fragile hand in his, grasped it gently for a moment in gratitude.
He gradually made his way back to Aleron's home, saw Noelani and Medea outside the hut, talking, laughing together. Noelani held Cerelia in her arms, balancing the infant on her hip with a familiar ease. She noticed Daniel coming up to them, turned and gave him a smile.
"Dani! I was wondering where you had gone."
"I was just walking around, giving you two a chance to get to know each other." The baby turned her head to study Daniel with huge, solemn dark eyes, reached out a pudgy hand toward him.
Daniel gently clasped the soft, tiny hand with his fingers and was rewarded with a grin wide enough to show off Cerelia�s only two teeth.
Noelani laughed. "I thinks she likes you, Dani. Would you like to hold her?" Without waiting for an answer, she deposited the baby in Daniel�s arms.
He shifted his grip, balancing Cerelia on his arm, gently taking her hand again to deflect the tiny fingers from snatching his glasses. She curled her hand around his index finger and made happy, cooing baby noises. Daniel hadn�t held a baby since Sha�re�s child, but the realization didn�t fill him with sadness as he had anticipated. In fact, holding the child felt good, right even. Children, especially wide-eyed babies, brought a world of hope and acceptance. Possibilities. This child, begot of love and respect, held in its grasping hands the future, as did all the children of the village and all the children yet to be born.
Looking at the child in his arms, a child of Noelani�s people, a part of Noelani herself carried on in the child�s very blood and bone, Daniel felt his spirit at once fill with happiness, then dampen with something else. Perhaps a child born to Noelani one day in this village would be her own legacy to hope. A legacy of which he wasn�t certain he�d be a part.
"I think he will make a good father one day, do you not, Noelani?" Medea grinned, and both of them giggled, watching Daniel�s awkward, yet gentle way the baby.
Lost in thought and in the deep jet-black eyes of the child, he glanced at Medea, then Noelani. "What?" Daniel raised his eyebrows. Their soft laughter had startled him from his thoughts. He wondered what they found so amusing. "Did you say something?" The baby squawked, and he started bouncing her up and down, started humming to her. Cerelia gazed at him wide-eyed, small hand patting at his mouth, his cheek.
"I said that you are very good with children," Medea said with a grin.
Daniel mumbled a �thank you,� feeling inexplicably self-conscious at the compliment. Noelani noticed his embarrassment and the faint tinge of pink on his cheekbones. She smiled, gave him a tender look and moved closer to him, laying a hand on his upper arm.
Cerelia began to fuss, so Daniel handed her over to Medea with an odd mingling of relief and immediately missing the warm, sweet smelling weight against his chest. Medea took the baby, chattering to her and went toward the garden to check on what Ilias was doing.
Once Medea was out of earshot, Noelani looked up at Daniel, noticed that he seemed distant, troubled in ways she hadn�t seen since the first few months after he had recovered from his illness.
"Dani, is something the matter?"
He blinked at her as if she had again pulled his thoughts from some far away place that didn�t include her.
"Wh�no, everything�s fine." And looking at her lovely face and her concerned expression, he used her features to pull himself completely from his ruminations. "It seems as if you and Medea are getting along well."
She noticed the diversionary tactic, but decided to let it go for the time being. She knew Daniel well enough to accept that he would talk to her when he was ready, and not a moment before. She smiled, returning her thoughts to her joy at once again having a family to call her own. "She is wonderful. I am very happy for Aleron."
"I am glad," he said, glancing over at the happy shriek coming from Ilias as his mother pretended to chase him around the garden. "And, I have something for you." He pulled the scarf from his pocket and draped it around Noelani�s shoulders, explaining how he had attained it. It was but one more gift he could give her, another physical manifestation of his love, so that she would always have a part of him, even if he wasn�t there.
Noelani gasped with pleasure, fingering the silky fabric. "I must thank her when next I see her, and offer her something in return," she said, her face lit with an incandescent smile.
The old woman was right, Daniel thought, watching Noelani as she spoke. The colors set off her eyes beautifully. He noticed an even greater renewed confidence in her, the way she seemed to have already meshed with Aleron and his family along with the villagers. Her shyness was all but forgotten, as if she had discarded her shroud of grief and isolation and stepped back into the sunlight.
Noelani hugged him, pulled back to give him a quick kiss, then went to show Medea her new treasure, leaving him standing alone on the walkway.
*****
Five days after their arrival to the mainland, they set out on another journey to return to the island to retrieve Noelani's belongings and so she could say her final good-byes to her home. Daniel knew he had his own peace to make with leaving behind the island that had become his entire universe for so long. That he suspected had been his place of salvation.
Aleron insisted on accompanying them. It was agreed that he needed the time to see what had become of his people so the reality would fully set in, and he could, for once, give closure to his guilt and his grief.
Once at their destination, Daniel gave the two siblings their time alone to comfort and console each other. It was a comfort he knew he couldn�t offer Noelani. This was a time for her and her brother to reconnect, to let go of the ones that had been so cruelly taken from them.
Daniel made the short walk alone to the beach close to their hut. A walk he could nearly do in his sleep, so familiar had the terrain become. He climbed down the incline of rocks, watched the waves from Jehiah�s favorite rock. He closed his eyes for a moment, let the sounds of the crashing tides wash over him for what he knew to be the last time.
Pulling the sliver of naquaada from the pocket of his battered fatigue pants, he paused to study the glyph of Orion. The symbol that had thrown his life in directions he then couldn�t have even begun to imagine. A life that, despite his regrets and misgivings, he knew, deep down, he wouldn�t have traded for anything.
Orion who could walk on water. Do the impossible. Perhaps Daniel's time on this island had also done the impossible�restored a battered and empty soul.
He bid Orion a silent farewell, knowing in his heart, he would be seeing its familiar tracings somewhere else again, soon. He placed the glyph face-up on the flat portion of the rock, tucking it against a deep ridge to keep it in place.
Leaving the glyph was a sentimental act�something he wasn�t normally prone to, but he wanted to leave some sort of trace that he had been here. Leave behind a reminder of himself, or perhaps even give back a token of gratitude to the island that had so enmeshed him in its embrace. That had brought him the one person who had been able to accomplish that near-impossible task of healing his shattered spirit. And he hers.
He headed off the beach, and he didn't need to look back to memorize its craggy, ruggedly beautiful shore, its swaying branches. They were already in his memory, etched deep within that place that held all the most important images of which a life is made.
Once back on the precipice where they had landed, Daniel sat perched on the wing of Jacob's ship. He absently played a game of fetch with Dazhbog while he waited for Noelani and Aleron to return. Dazh hadn�t appeared when they first arrived, and Daniel had wondered if they would have to leave without finding the animal. He supposed that Dazh was busy making a life of his own that didn�t include two-legged creatures. Finally, the animal had decided to come out, jumping onto Daniel�s shoulder without warning, giving Daniel yet another near-heart attack.
Would he miss this? he wondered. Miss having his heart nearly jumping through his ribs whenever the animal felt like lighting on his shoulder? Probably. Yes. He would.
Jacob sat with him a while, trying to engage Daniel in conversation, but Daniel only replied with monosyllabic utterances, or didn't seem to hear him at other times as he continued to toss the twig for Dazh, which the animal would promptly return with tireless exuberance.
"How are you holding out, kid?" Jacob finally asked, giving up the attempts at small talk, realizing the tumult within the younger man.
"I�m fine," Daniel said, giving his quick, standard reply, which didn't allow him any time to think about how he truly felt.
"I know this must seem strange," Jacob offered sympathetically. "You�ve been gone a long time�you�ve probably gotten a little attached to this place, huh?"
"How long... have I been away?" Daniel finally thought to ask. He realized he had lost all track of the days and weeks, had no idea how much time anymore had passed since he�d woken so battered, exhausted and lost on the rocky shore.
"Over seven months, Danny," Jacob said, watching him with concern.
"Oh..." he breathed out, shook his head with something close to astonishment. Seven months. It simultaneously seemed a lifetime and no time at all. Displaced time, almost.
Dazhbog dropped the twig on Daniel's lap, slapped at his hand, squeaking with impatience when Daniel didn't react. Daniel picked up the twig, threw it, not even paying attention to where it landed.
Jacob spoke to him again, but hadn�t heard the man�s words. He glanced at him, tried to clear his scattered thoughts. "I�m sorry, what did you say?"
Jacob gave him a rueful smile, patted Daniel�s shoulder with affection. "Never mind, kid. It wasn�t important. I�ll give you a minute to yourself, okay? It looks like you need it."
Daniel nodded in thanks for Jacob�s understanding and watched as the older man stepped into the ship, leaving Daniel alone. He felt irritated with himself, guilty for brushing off Jacob's kindness and attempts at distraction. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Jacob, his thoughts were just far too jumbled and conflicted to be able to articulate anything that would make any sense. He suspected that if he did start talking, all his disjointed thoughts and fears would spill unchecked from his mouth, and he wouldn't be able to stop.
Dazh returned with the twig, all but threw it at him again, and Daniel was about to toss it back toward the trees when Noelani and Aleron finally emerged from the path, Aleron carrying a full satchel over his shoulder. Daniel noticed that both of their eyes were swollen and rimmed with red, but he thought they seemed at peace. Ready to move on.
Noelani stepped up close to Daniel, and he stood, embraced her, and gently kissed the top of her head. "Are you ready to go?"
She nodded. "Let's go home."
"Okay," he agreed, but the word �home� caused his conflicted emotions to churn again. Daniel wondered where home truly was for him. Was it meant to be with Noelani, or was it time for him to move on? He wasn�t even sure if he had anything to go back to at the SGC anymore. Wasn�t certain that he still had a place back on the base, or if he would even be able to reconnect with his team, with the friends he had so carefully evicted from his encompassing grief, but not from his heart.
He gave Noelani a smile, which he knew came nowhere close to genuine, but he made the effort for her, didn�t want his fears and indecision to interfere with her own heartache at leaving her old life behind. He pulled her to his chest again, held her close, feeling a faint tremble coursing through her body.
"Are you okay, Noeli?" he whispered near her ear, tenderly kissed her temple.
She nodded, took a wavering breath. "Yes. It is time to go to my new home and to be with my family again."
He rubbed her back, released her from his embrace, noticing suddenly that she had this time excluded him from the mention of home. Maybe it had merely been a slip of the tongue, or perhaps she had sensed the trepidation in his thoughts, or had read it on what he knew were his far too expressive features.
They could deal with where their futures lay another time, he told himself, but before he faced all that, first he had one final goodbye to endure. One he couldn�t push aside. "All right. Just� give me one second though, okay? You two go ahead and get settled."
Two pairs of eyes looked at him questioningly, then Noelani noticed Dazhbog sitting perched on the wing of the ship and she nodded, understanding. She took Aleron's arm and they ducked into the ship, leaving Daniel alone outside.
They'd reluctantly decided to leave Dazhbog behind on the island, uncertain whether or not the drier, sparser habitat of the mainland would be suitable for him, and Aleron didn�t recall seeing any similar creatures on the mainland in the years he had been living there. Besides, Dazh was old enough to fend for himself, Daniel reasoned, but he still felt a qualm of remorse and sadness, he had to admit, at leaving the animal�his friend�behind.
Daniel turned, looked down at Dazh. "I wish I could take you with me, fuzz face, but I don't think you'd like it where we're going very much. Not enough trees and other fuzzy green critters like you over there."
Dazh sat up on his haunches, begged for a treat he knew Daniel always carried in his pockets. He carefully placed his leathery little fingers over his eyes and chittered, waiting to be rewarded.
Daniel smiled, handed him a small nut. As Dazh nibbled on his treat, Daniel picked him up, scratched behind Dazh's ear, just where he loved it the most. He walked over to the trees, stopped about fifteen feet away from the ship.
"Thank you for being a good friend when I needed one," he said, cuddling Dazh near his chin for a moment, feeling the animal's silky fur against his skin for the last time. Daniel set him down on a low branch. "You'll be okay," he said, more as a reassurance to himself. "You'll find yourself a nice mate and make lots of baby... whatever it is you are."
Daniel glanced past his friend, looked up at the lavender sky with its twin suns, now so familiar, the island so close to having become his home. A permanent home. He listened to that ever-present crash of the waves, the sound so deeply ingrained in his subconscious. He hoped he could still one day, retrieve it from his memory when he needed its solace.
Redirecting his gaze to Dazhbog, he watched as the animal delicately nibbled the crumbs off his long fingers. Dazh looked up, met Daniel's gaze with his bright, intelligent dark eyes, as if he somehow knew this was the last time they would see each other.
"'Bye, Dazh." Daniel swallowed against the tightness in his throat, took a deep breath, placed the remaining treats from his pocket on the branch. He quickly turned away, ignoring the animal's almost questioning squeak, forcing himself not to look back as he walked to the ship.
Swiping an arm over his face before anyone noticed the dampness on his eyelashes, Daniel ducked his head, and stepped through the door.
*****
Back on the mainland, Noelani settled into Aleron's home, immediately placing her belongings around the small room, making it her own. Aleron had offered to help construct a new hut that she and Daniel could share when they wished, but for now, she was content in her brother's house, catching up with them of the past five years, helping Medea with the children and the garden surrounding their house.
In the near-week they had been back, Daniel scarcely saw her alone, but he could see that she was happy, all but the faintest traces of the losses she had suffered were gone from her eyes. He noticed that when they did have a few moments alone together, they were suddenly cautious with one another, unsure of how their relationship fit within their new environment. And so they were too careful, too polite, too quick to ask how the other was. Uncertain and unsure how to adapt the love and support they had provided one another on the island to this new constricture�one that came with others included.
Earlier in the day, the villagers had performed the marriage of a young couple and were still celebrating into the late hours of the night, dancing around a bonfire glowing garishly orange, red and yellow against the black of the night sky.
Daniel and Jacob sat on the ground near the fire, smells of cooking meat, sweet burning wood and wafting smoke enveloping them like a cloud. Laughter surrounded them, but the aura of joy and happiness seemed to have excluded Daniel. He watched the newlywed couple laughing, dancing and gazing into one another�s eyes, lost in their world of hope and promise.
The coupling of the two villagers reminded him of the amazing night he and Noelani had first made the ultimate connection with one another and make love in front of the warmth and firelight. That joining had also been a promise of sorts. A promise that they would be each other's anchors against their isolation. And that promise, had been enough to sustain them until now.
Jacob looked away from the celebration to study the younger man sitting close beside him, quiet, lost in thought. "So now what?" he asked, hoping the bluntness of his question would surprise Daniel into talking.
Daniel jumped, as Jacob suspected he would, and Daniel looked at him for a moment before speaking. "I don't know," Daniel said, turning his face away, once more. He had no better answer, because he truly didn�t know. Hadn�t allowed himself to ponder that same question, because he didn�t want to know the answer.
Jacob continued to study Daniel's inscrutable profile, carefully watching his reaction. "You're not thinking of staying here, are you?"
Daniel's gaze flicked over to Jacob's before returning to watch the dancing figures silhouetted against the brightness of the flames. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice a near whisper, almost inaudible over the music and laughter around them, encapsulating them.
"I know this is hard," Jacob said, choosing his words carefully, "but Aldwin, Giles and I have to rendezvous with the others soon." He paused at the silent, answering nod. "Daniel, your team misses you. They were afraid that you'd been captured by the Goa'uld, but they've never stopped looking for you. Not for one day."
Daniel was startled by Jacob's words. He hadn�t even thought that SGC would think he�d been taken by the Goa�uld. When he fully thought about it, he supposed it would be natural for them to assume he'd been captured back on P4C764. He found himself surprised to hear that they were still looking for him after so much time had passed. Recalling his thoughts the first few days on the island, he�d fully expected them to be relieved to write him off as dead because it would have been easier, more logical to assume.
Their loyalty, despite the way he�d distanced himself from them, was another surprise, wrenching a pang of guilt over his lack of faith in them.
He knew now, that he hadn't meant to shut them out, but he was so used to dealing with everything on his own, he hadn�t even known how to reach out to them. He remembered when he�d even had moments where he'd considered resigning from the SGC, because it was easier to run away than to admit to needing someone. To admit that he didn't want to go it alone anymore. He knew that he no longer wanted to run away, no longer had the strength to pretend that he could manage on his own. The admittance made his heart clench with a sudden realization.
He realized that he missed them with an acuity that made his chest ache. Jacob's words had brought it into sudden clarity. He wanted to go back to them. He wanted to stay here with Noelani. He didn't know what he wanted.
"Daniel-"
"I... I need some time, Jacob," Daniel said. He dropped his head, cursed himself for his indecision. Cursed himself for allowing himself to care so much for Noelani, for thinking that for once, he had inadvertently found something that would last, no matter how greatly he missed his home.
The older man watched Daniel's downcast profile. The deep shadows made him appear tired, almost weary. "All right, Danny."
He saw Daniel's head nod. "Thank you, Jacob."
Jacob squeezed Daniel's shoulder for a moment, giving it an affectionate, gentle rub before releasing him. He didn't speak again, leaving Daniel alone with his thoughts and watched the happy villagers dancing and laughing around him. Jacob nodded in thanks when a young man handed him a drink of something that smelled vaguely like coconut.
Daniel accepted his own drink, set it down as if he hadn't fully taken note of it. He looked up again and smiled at the sound of a familiar giggle rising over the others. Noelani was dancing with a few of the other unmarried woman, laughing when she couldn't follow the steps. She glanced in Daniel's direction and grinned happily at him before being distracted by one of the women speaking to her. She threw back her head, laughed at whatever the woman had said, and Daniel noticed some of the other men casting shy, appreciative glances in Noelani's direction.
He realized that she belonged here as surely as if she had been born among the villagers. The realization was followed with the immediate certainty, the unshakable truth that he did not.
Ignoring the questioning look from Jacob, Daniel stood, suddenly missing the shelter and privacy of the thick forest back on the island. He stepped away from the circle of villagers, from the close-together, warm, inviting huts and well-tended gardens, and headed for the sparse trees.
The moons were bright enough to make it easy for him to see as he continued walking aimlessly, without direction. The air smelled clean, wonderfully fresh after breathing in all the smoke from the bonfire. He kept walking until he reached a nearly hidden, forgotten statue of Amun. This version was seated on a throne, head slightly upraised as if the ancient god were studying the stars. Daniel ran his hand along the cool stone and he could still hear the sounds of the music and laughter, its cadences echoing faintly, sounding almost dreamlike.
He didn't know how long he stood there, watching the moons, listening to the distant celebration when he heard a rustle in the trees. He turned his head, saw Noelani stepping carefully through the underbrush. She walked up to him as silently as that first night back on the island. Placing her arm around his waist, she leaned up against his back, rested her head on his shoulder.
"Dani, are you all right?"
Daniel turned, her hand tracing a line around his waist until it rested on the small of his back. He nodded. "I'm fine. You should go back to the celebration. I do not want to spoil your good time."
"You do not feel at home with these people as I do," she said, her voice sad, pensive. "This place is so much like what my own home once was."
Daniel smiled slightly, but it came nowhere near his eyes. "I can see that. It is a wonderful place. You belong with them."
"Yes, these people are my kindred," Noelani said, her voice transmuting to certainty, and the pleasure of recapturing the sense of family she had so cruelly lost.
"Ubi bene, ibi patria," Daniel said. When Noelani frowned, not understanding, he translated. "Where you feel good, there is your home."
She smiled, but it was a sad smile, filled with a growing acceptance. Noelani glanced down, and when she met his gaze again, her eyes were somber. "You will not stay, will you?"
He took a deep breath, captured her hands in his. He shook his head, glanced at her through his eyelashes. "No," he answered after a long, silent moment, his voice a soft whisper.
"I will return to the island with you, if that is what you wish," she said.
Daniel blinked, surprised that she would even offer to make such a sacrifice for him. "No, honey, I would never ask you to do that. Never. Not even if I... if I wanted you to, I... no. You�re happy here. You... you belong here, and I..." He looked down at his feet, tried to articulate the thoughts that had been building over the past week. Truths he�d avoided until he could no longer hide from them.
He knew it was his and Noelani�s shared loneliness, their common isolation that had drawn them together�the proverbial last man and last woman on earth. It was foolish to think the instinctual need to connect could ever sustain them, not when they were faced with the choice of lost brethren, and a place where they belonged.
And much as Daniel tried to avoid it, tried to hide from the reality of Sha're's death, he had made a promise to her. One of which he knew he had to fulfill - he owed her that much.
Noelani had her people, her family�those who would love her because their blood spoke of ancestral love and devotion. She would be fine. And so would he, because Daniel had his own family of sorts, people who loved him because they chose to, not because he was all they had, though he hoped Noelani�s feelings for him ran a little deeper than that.
He knew his did for her�he loved her more than he ever thought it possible to love anyone again. That was why he�d found the truth that their paths were about to part so difficult to face. The truth that the love they shared was transitory, one built on the need for solace, rather than a connection that would see them through the day to day act of getting through life.
Perhaps they had been brought together long enough to heal each other�s souls, and now that those souls were ready to let go of the memories of the lost and rejoin the living, perhaps it was time let to go of each other, as well. Time to take the paths fate had laid out for them. Paths that led to where each of their true homes lay.
"I think we both know you belong here," he finally told her, forcing out the words he wished he didn't have to speak. Wishing he could smile, but feeling the tight grip on his composure crumbling instead. "And I think we both know that I do not."
She laid her head on his shoulder, let out a soft breath that brushed across the skin on his neck. "I wish that you did," she said.
Daniel felt his breath catch in his lungs, a dull ache settle in the middle of his chest. "So do I. I wish that... so much. But it is time for me to go home."
She lifted her head, looked at him again and nodded, as if she had known the truth for as long as Daniel had. "You must go where your heart belongs, as I must stay where mine does."
"There is a big piece of my heart that will always remain on the island, where we found each other. I will leave a bigger piece of my heart here, with you." Daniel raised their clasped hands and pressed them to his chest. "You healed my heart, just when I thought it would never be whole again. And now... can you feel it? It is breaking again."
"Oh, Dani..."
"But that's okay, because I know this time...I know what to do. Because you taught me what to do," he told her, his eyes glimmering with tears. "Taught me how to live again. For that, I will always be grateful."
"I think perhaps we taught each other," she whispered, stroking his chest, feeling him trembling beneath her fingers. "I am reborn because of you."
Daniel nodded, his words pinched in the stranglehold of emotion.
"Someday, we shall see each other again, yes? Not on this world, not on your world. With the gods. Do you think, Dani?"
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"I know that your world has many wonders, but I hope that until then, you will remember me, from time to time."
"I could never forget you,� Daniel said, his voice tremulous, and he looked at her through a blur of tears. "You will always have a place in my heart, Noeli."
She blinked back her own tears, but a few spilled over her face, gleaming silver tracks in the moonlight. "And you in mine."
Daniel could see her shoulders shaking in the dim light, felt her hands trembling in his. He felt something tickling his face and realized that his own tears had escaped. He didn't want to let go of her to wipe them away, so he allowed them run freely down his face and neck.
"I shall miss you when you leave, Dani."
"And I you." He pulled her to him and enfolded her in his arms, closed his eyes against the sting of tears and the relentless ache in his chest. But he didn�t pull away. He faced his heartache head-on.
They held each other under the shimmering stars and the three moons spotlighting the world in a surreal glow of silver light. Each of them cried tears of loss, of understanding and, finally, regret that the fates hadn�t allowed them more time.
*****
His last night with Noelani had been filled with a calm acceptance, both of them trying to slow time, make every moment count. A part of Daniel wished they could have gone back to the outlook on the island where they used to watch the suns set, but at the same time, he had said his goodbye to that place already.
Instead, far away from the village, they found an isolated spot by a small stream where the trees were cleared enough so they could watch the suns go down. Faint cricket chirps sounded in their ears, the songs a slightly lower pitch than the insects on the island. The accompanying soft trickles of the stream were a meager substitute for the rush of the waves, but to Daniel, the water sounds were still soothing to his aching heart.
He and Noelani settled by the stream's edge and held each other, neither of them speaking, seeing no need for it. Just being close was enough. Once the suns had set in a spectacular blaze of color, the dwindling periwinkle light of dusk sparkling off the gurgling stream, they stretched out on a blanket laid on the cool grassy ground.
Though neither of them had anticipated it, they felt their bodies crying out for a final release. The night air was cool on their skins as they shed their clothing, their hands on each other's bodies ever cooler, sending shivers of cold, of anticipation and eager longing.
They tasted the salt of each other's silent tears as they kissed, and their last joining was quiet, full of sorrow. A final act of solace and love they could grant one another, and they took their time, leisured in the pleasure they were able to give each other. The sensations of their bodies allowing their minds to forget their heartache for just a little while.
When their heartbeats had slowed, and their quick breaths returned to normal, they lay back, ran their hands over each other's bodies, memorizing each already familiar line and curve.
They forced themselves to stay awake, beginning to speak of meaningless things to prevent sleep from claiming them. Daniel held her tight in his arms, Noelani's hands on his arms. Her head lay on his chest, and she could hear his heartbeat, unconsciously matched her breaths with his. They stayed in each other's arms until the moons disappeared into a sky transmuting from inky purple to pale lavender. They watched one then the other sun rise, peeking up from behind the trees, spotlighting the branches in an orange glow. Bringing forth the day they had to say goodbye.
When they could no longer postpone the inevitable, they slowly dressed, made their way back to the village, never once letting go of each other's hand for the long walk back to the village. Once at Aleron's home, Daniel gathered his few belongings�he hadn't wanted to face doing it before. Wanted to drag out the reality of his leaving until the last possible moment.
Noelani helped him, silently handing him the few things she had given him�some shells from their beach back on the island, the extra shirt she had made for him. She started to gather the chess pieces from the table, but Daniel stopped her with a shake of his head.
"No, honey. I made that for you," he said, taking her hand. "Perhaps you can teach Aleron and the others to play."
She looked at him, surprised, blinked back sudden tears springing to her eyes.
"Perhaps you might even win, sometimes," Daniel continued, grinning at her in an attempt to make her smile, despite his own threatening tears.
She playfully swiped at his head, and he ducked, protesting, dodging her around her, and for a moment, they were both able to laugh.
The all-too brief reprieve of levity passed when a knock sounded on the door.
The little boy, Ilias, eagerly ran to the door, tried to tug it open. Aleron stepped behind his son, picked him up with one arm, tucking the two-year-old under his arm like a football, and opened the door with his free hand.
Jacob stepped in and nodded a greeting. His eyes met with Daniel's, and in a soft voice, he asked, "You ready, Daniel?"
"No," Daniel said, and shook his head. He looked at a place just past Jacob, unable to meet the older man�s gaze. "But let's get this over with anyway."
Jacob nodded, stepped outside. Daniel said a farewell to Medea sitting at the table with Cerelia cradled in her arms. He gently brushed his hand over Cerelia's soft hair and smiled when the baby grinned at him. Picking up his pack, Daniel swung it over his shoulder, headed for the door and stepped outside. Noelani started to follow, but ducked back inside, murmuring that she would be right out.
After a moment, she rushed outside again, pulling the door shut behind her and reached for Daniel's hand. Noelani had insisted on seeing Daniel off by the ship, but Daniel wondered if it would have been easier to say their goodbyes at Aleron's home, where she had her family to comfort her. Luckily, Aleron, in turn, insisted on coming with them to be there for Noelani after Daniel had gone. Fulfilling his promise to always be there for her.
Once on the outlook, Jacob and the other Tok'ra had settled themselves inside, and after he said his farewell to Daniel, Aleron waited a distance away by the trees, discreetly allowing Daniel and Noelani a moment alone.
They stood face to face, feeling suddenly awkward, hesitantly touching each other, neither wanting to be the first to say the words. Noelani finally stepped closer, caressed Daniel's face, then placed something into his hand. Daniel opened his hand, saw that it was one of the queens he had made for their chessboard. He realized the piece was what she had run back into the hut for.
When he looked at her questioningly, she said, "I think you made her look somewhat like me. I thought... perhaps, if you had her, you would look at her once in a while, and from time to time... perhaps, you would think of me, as well."
Daniel blinked back tears, closed his hand around the carved figure again. "God, Noeli, of course I'll think of you. Always."
Pulling her to him, he wrapped her in a final embrace, choked back the tears that wanted to come. "I hope you'll think of me once in a while, too," he whispered against her neck and felt her nod, felt her hand gently come to rest against the back of his neck, her fingers twining in the fine soft hairs. He kissed her mouth, memorizing the taste of her, then released her before he fully lost his composure and saw her struggling as greatly as he was.
"Goodbye, Noeli." The words nearly stuck in his throat, but he forced himself to say them first. Hoped to make their parting a little easier on her. They were words he couldn't ever recall speaking first�usually he was the one to be left behind. Somehow, he'd always thought having that chance to be the one to say goodbye would make things easier. But it didn't. He didn't think anything would make leaving her easier.
Noelani nodded, unable to speak. In her hand, he saw she held a sliver of naquaada. The Tau'ri symbol he had given her. Clutching it to her chest as if it were her last tie to him.
Daniel stepped into the ship, and he turned to give her one last look, unable to stop the tears from flowing down his face. He no longer cared who saw, there was no longer any reason to hide them.
She raised her hand in farewell, and he gave her one last smile, silently showing her that they both would be all right, or so he could hope. He held onto that hope, grasped the carved figure in his hand as tightly as Noeli gripped the naquaada. He needed something to hold onto, before he changed his mind and darted back outside, back to her.
Daniel forced himself to move to the rear of the ship, sank into one of the seats, dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to remember how to breathe without crying.
A short amount of time later, he stood in front of a DHD, on another alien planet, scarcely taking notice of his surroundings, only staring at the device as if he'd never seen one before. Jacob had, as promised, taken Daniel to another planet with a Stargate, and the older man had already sent a message to the SGC to let them know that Daniel was coming home.
Jacob stood a short distance behind him, waiting patiently for Daniel to dial Earth's address. Daniel was grateful to Jacob for giving him a moment, for understanding. For knowing that Daniel needed to be the one to dial himself home. That this was his decision all the way.
Daniel paused with his hand hovering over the device, and he wondered how greatly he would come to miss her. How much he would miss her quick laughter, her strength that had remained throughout all the loss and heartache she had endured. How she still couldn't say his full name after so many months, how she always seemed to understand when he needed to be alone with his thoughts, but still needed her close.
The truth was, he realized with a jolt�he missed her already.
Taking a deep breath, he began to dial the address for Earth, pressing each glyph carefully, each resulting thrum almost making him wince with its finality. His hand passed over Orion, lingered for a moment over another glyph�the Tau'ri symbol�and he saw a flash of a similar glyph, this one eroded and decayed by years of salt water, grasped in Noelani's small hand.
He tightened his mouth into a grim line, took a futile moment to wonder if he had made the right decision. He finally pressed the last glyph harder than necessary, almost angrily. Daniel saw Jacob punch in his ID code, then he stepped through the wormhole as soon as it fully materialized, knowing Jacob would follow. He didn't want to give himself any more time to think.
It was time to go home, and time to begin to the arduous task of reconnecting and healing other wounds.
******
His arrival in the gateroom had been a flurry of activity that made him vertiginous from the shock of the nearly forgotten effects of the wormhole, from the sudden impact of his feet stepping solidly onto the metal ramp. The dull gray of the gateroom filled his vision, the scent of metal, condensed air and the indefinable odor the gate activity gave off almost assaulted his senses with its artificiality, with its industry. Made his sinuses prickle irritably with congestion and the urge to sneeze for the first time in a long time.
General Hammond had stepped up the ramp, patted Daniel�s back affectionately, welcoming him home, speaking to him, but Daniel couldn't seem to make sense of the man�s words. Daniel heard himself asking in a quiet, flustered plea for Hammond to just give him a minute, just a moment to allow this new reality to take hold.
Jacob followed as Hammond led Daniel off the ramp, his hand still reassuringly on his shoulder, allowing him that moment to try to get his bearings. Then, before Daniel could even take a look around the gateroom and take note of any possible changes, Sam had appeared, all but hurling herself at him with a happy shriek, surprising him with her unabashed joy. Hugging him as if she'd never let him go.
Daniel stood rigid, self-conscious at first, as though he couldn�t comprehend the joy Sam was sharing with him. But then, he listened to his heart, granted it the release he so needed, and he held her just as tight, felt his already tenuous grasp on his emotions slipping, threatening to buckle him.
Luckily, Jack intervened before that happened, stepping up behind Daniel, started pounding him on the back, grinning openly for once, and telling Daniel he owed him fifty bucks, for some reason known only to Jack. Even Teal'c had greeted him with a suspiciously damp look to his dark eyes.
His three teammates had all but carried him to the infirmary for the routine, required checkup, his friends over-enthusiastic in their joy at seeing him alive and well, and returned from the dead, once more. Daniel wasn't sure how he felt. It was all a little too much.
Give me time, he wanted to tell them. I need time, and then I�ll need this. I�ll need you all, when I�ve had a little more time... But he couldn�t bring himself to speak the words, couldn�t get them out around the tight rein he held on his emotions, closing his throat almost painfully. He scarcely even remembered to breathe until they had unceremoniously deposited him on a gurney in the infirmary, looking down at him almost expectantly.
Janet immediately stepped out from behind a curtain, the look of shock and pleasure at seeing him evident on her face.
"Hi," Daniel managed, somewhat inanely, he thought, but at least it was something.
His response evoked identical grins from the faces staring down at him.
"Hi yourself," Jack said, his characteristic smirk firmly back in place. "Welcome back."
"Thank you," Daniel shifted on the gurney, sitting up a little higher, feeling disconcertingly like a lab rat on display. He wished they would stop looking at him like that, wished they would act like everything was back to normal, so he could stop feeling so out of place, so inexplicably... lost. A feeling he�d hoped would dissipate when he left the planet, but strangely enough, he felt just as out of sorts, just as caught between two worlds.
He gave his friends a smile that he knew probably looked uneasy. He noticed that Jack�s hair was a little grayer, Sam�s was a little longer. Only Teal�c seemed unchanged. As he watched his friends, Daniel realized that he hadn�t anticipated it being this strange to be home again, to feel as displaced as he did back at the village on the mainland. He wondered, once again, if he no longer had any place where he could say he belonged.
Jack�s features softened, sensing Daniel�s struggle to focus, then gently punched at his shoulder. "Hey, you beat my record," he said, his voice soft.
Daniel looked at him, brows knitted in a frown of confusion. "What?"
"You know."
"No... no, I don�t know." Daniel shook his head. He realized that he�d forgotten his old trick of reading Jack�s exasperating mind.
"For being MIA, AWOL, leaving home without a note, gonzo, as in gone." Jack spread his arms wide, bounced on the toes of his boots a few times. "The longest time being stranded off-world. In fact, I think you�re now the all-time reigning champion."
"Oh..." Daniel glanced down at his lap. "That record." He looked at Jack, suddenly remembering something. "How�s your head?"
"My head?" Jack looked confused.
"The last time I saw you, you were unconscious," Daniel reminded him.
"That?" Jack scoffed. "Ah, that was nothing. A little bump and a new scar to add to my collection." Jack pushed back the silver hair by his temple to reveal a faint, thin line.
"Major Carter and myself returned to the planet once the wormhole re-materialized to look for you, DanielJackson, but you and the Goa�uld were gone," Teal�c said, still managing to look remorseful even after so much time had passed.
"You also owe me fifty bucks, Danny," Jack happily added before Daniel could reply to Teal�c.
"I do?" Daniel frowned at Jack again.
"Yeah," Jack drummed his fingers against the metal railing on the gurney. "The Rockies versus the Cubs. They won 5-2, on July 30th."
"I�ve been away a long time," Daniel said, but his voice had been so quiet, he wasn�t sure if he�d actually spoken the words aloud, or merely thought them.
He felt someone touch his hand, and he looked up into Sam�s concerned blue eyes.
"Yeah, you have," she said. So he had spoken aloud, he thought, and he knew that Sam understood what he meant. That he had been away far longer than just his time of being off-world. That a part of him had been gone ever since the day Sha�re had died.
"Well, it sure has been a lot quieter around here without you," Jack said, tapping out a vaguely annoying pinging rhythm on the metal. "I finally managed to catch up on all my memos."
Sam grinned, squeezed Daniel�s hand and said, "Don't listen to the colonel. He missed you. We all missed you so much."
Jack looked embarrassed. "Well, of course I missed you. Teal'c isn't any fun to argue with, and Carter, well, she just starts babbling about quantum physics stuff, which just puts me to sleep. But you�you at least put up a half-decent fight."
Janet smiled to herself as she prepared her equipment, listening to the voices behind her. She pulled on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, turned and said, "If you all don't mind, I'd like to check my patient now."
"I'm fine, really-" Daniel protested, starting to sit up when he felt the sudden need to escape, but was stopped by a firm look from his doctor.
"You know the drill, Daniel," she said, looking stern, but her expression softened when she noticed the barely disguised bewilderment in Daniel's wide eyes. "I'll get this over with as quickly as possible, okay?"
Daniel nodded, sank back on the gurney, resigned, knowing it was pointless to argue.
Jack smirked at him. "You know, Doc missed you�her star patient. She was getting bored without you, in fact. I think some of the nurses were pining for you, too."
Janet glared at Jack, pointed past the curtain. "Out!"
"All right, all right," Jack grumbled. "See ya later, Danny." He ducked his head outside the curtain, muttered under his breath, "Nothing worse than a short person on a power trip."
"I will speak with you soon, as well, DanielJackson," Teal�c bowed his head before following Jack.
Sam grinned, then stepped closer to the gurney. "I'm going to go say goodbye to my dad, then I'll come back later and visit with you, okay?"
Daniel nodded. "Okay." He looked away for a moment, chewing his lip. "Sam, tell your dad... tell him thank you."
"I will." She nodded, reached out her hand hesitantly, then touched a lock of his hair spilling onto the white sheet, lightly running her finger along the golden strands. She finally noticed the worn leather shirt he wore. Noticed that he had on his old battered, repaired glasses, and her memory flashed back to that amazing day four years ago on an alien desert, at a place where she had never expected to find a kindred spirit�the man who had become her best friend.
"You look so different," she said with a pensive smile. "You know, you look just like you did the first day I met you."
"That bad, huh?" he said with a sardonic wince.
Sam laughed and shook her head. "No, you look wonderful. It�s good to have you back, Daniel." She impulsively leaned forward to pull him into her arms, and she felt the catch in Daniel�s breath, which he tried to hide with a cough. Kissing his cheek lightly, Sam promised once more to return later, when Janet had finished with him, and she ducked outside the curtain before they both lost it.
Janet pulled the curtain completely shut around them with a clatter, and the sound reminded Daniel of the first few months with Noelani and the drape she used to close off her bed. How he used to listen to the sounds of her moving against the blankets, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. The sounds of her breaths behind that curtain, and how he used to wonder what she was thinking all those nights when he knew she lay awake as late as he did.
Daniel�s reminiscences were interrupted by an assault on his already exhausted senses when Janet stepped up to him, pulling close a tray of equipment and began looking him over. At the same time, he scarcely felt the pinch of the needles in his veins, the tightness of the blood pressure cuff on his biceps or the metallic coldness of the medical instruments against his skin.
Janet continued her examination with her trademark efficiency, asking him questions, requesting that he open his mouth, look to the left, then to the right, as she shone a light in his eyes. Her questions were forgotten as soon as he answered in monosyllabic replies, her instructions were followed with his body responding automatically, but his mind surveying as though from another room.
She then sent him for an MRI, the nurses whisking him off in a blur of surrealism, an instinctive dissociation of which Daniel was too familiar. The sense of detachment from his own world was far too much like his first day back from Abydos. That sense of feeling lost, abandoned somehow. Of wanting to go back, but knowing he couldn't go back. Not to the island, and not to her.
He was returned to the same gurney after the MRI, and to his surprise, he had fallen asleep while waiting for Janet to come see him. He was startled awake when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Janet looking down at him.
She gave him a moment to sit up, and to rub the sleep from his eyes. When he seemed alert enough she explained that from Daniel's description of the fever that had nearly killed him, Janet suspected he had caught the planet's version of Melioidosis�a bacterial infection most likely introduced into his system through the gash to his arm.
She had no way of knowing for certain, but speculated that the island's inhabitants had succumbed to a more virulent and highly contagious, mutated strain of the disease. Perhaps their immune systems hadn't been strong enough to fight off the infectious bacteria and perhaps the two inhabitants who had survived had a natural immunity to the disease. Janet told Daniel that it was a good thing he'd had the presence of mind to take the penicillin in his medkit�a precaution she suspected helped save his life.
Daniel nodded in the appropriate places as Janet spoke, his brain still fogged from sleep and from something that felt suspiciously like grief. He supposed it was grief that was so dulling his senses and making his eyes and throat ache, but he didn�t think you were supposed to grieve for things you willingly gave up. He wasn�t sure, because other than leaving Nick behind with the aliens on P7X-377�and even then he hadn�t had a choice in the matter�he couldn�t recall every willingly giving up someone, or something he�d cared about before.
"I'm going to start you on a course of antibiotics," Janet continued and Daniel nodded. "There's a still a slight trace of foreign bacteria in your system," she told him as she stepped close to the gurney again, frowning at the distant look in his sleepy eyes.
"You�re also about 10 pounds underweight, so I want you to immediately report any flu or cold-like symptoms�no matter how minor they seem, all right?"
Daniel nodded again, but to Janet, he seemed miles away. "I�m going to give you some vitamins that I want you to take until your weight gets back up to normal."
When there was no reply, Janet frowned, looked into Daniel's eyes. "Daniel? You okay?"
He flinched slightly, as if she'd startled him. "I'm fine." He looked down at his hands resting on his stomach, averting his gaze. From the corner of his eye, he saw Janet give him a stern look that said she wasn�t falling for the ruse. He sighed, scowling at his hands. Who was he trying to kid anyway? He wasn�t anywhere close to fine, and they both knew it.
"I guess it... it just feels a little strange to be back home, you know?" he admitted, then immediately regretted it when he felt his chest tighten painfully, making it hard to breathe. The dull monotone of gray surrounding him felt confining, further dulling his already muddled senses. The knowledge that he was so far underground made him feel uncharacteristically claustrophobic, made him want to rush outside and gulp in the fresh air like a drowning man, even though Janet had told him that it was cold and snowy outside.
He glanced at the far wall of the infirmary, decorated with streamers of gold and green tinsel, those metallic accordion-like bells dangling with an artificial gaiety from the ceiling. It was December. Close to Christmas.
When did that happen? he wondered. When he had last seen this place, it was almost summer. For some reason, he expected everything to be the same when he got back, but it never was, was it? Nothing was ever the same when you came back.
Janet nodded, her brown eyes soft with sympathy. "It'll take a few days for you to get settled again."
"Right," he said, pulled once more from his thoughts. He'd almost forgotten what he'd said to her. "I'll be all right in a few days."
Janet soothingly rubbed his shoulder. "I�ll be right back with those antibiotics and vitamins, and then you can go, okay?"
She was relieved that the medical necessities were out of the way, and knew that having Daniel surrounded by his friends and his familiar environment would be better medicine than anything she could prescribe him. She gave him another look of concern when his only response was one more distant nod.
I'll be all right in a few days, Daniel told himself again. He wondered how Noelani was settling into her new home and new life. Wondered if she missed him as much as he did her.
He vaguely heard Janet step away from him and the metallic rattle of a cabinet opening. Closing his eyes, Daniel remembered the sea, imagined that he was on the beach once more. Remembered how the waves had pushed and pulled at his feet, giving and taking of the land as the fates gave and took from Daniel, until he wasn�t certain he could endure any more.
But the rush of the waves had helped calm back there, and he summoned them from his memory, focused on them. He let the illusory sounds wash over him, and for just a while, he didn�t have to think of anything else.
*****
Janet insisted that he remain on base for the first night, a demand Daniel hardly protested. In fact, he felt relieved, didn�t have the energy to do much more than stumble to the cot set up in his office.
The next morning, he lingered in his first shower in over seven months of having to bathe in cold streams, or the icy waves of the ocean. Instead of luxuriating in the warmth, he turned the water to a masochistically hot temperature, stood under the scalding spray for so long that he became dizzy and his skin stung from the needles of water drumming down on him. At the same time, the water and the heat felt good, scourging the last of the fog of detachment until he felt exhausted, worn-out.
He finally stepped from the stall when he feared he�d pass out, and he had to hold onto the tiled wall to keep his legs from buckling. His head was throbbing and spinning, his skin red and sore from the assault he had inflicted upon himself, but at the same time, he felt better. Raw and aching, but no longer numb.
If only the rest of his unease could so simply be washed away.
Nearly a week later, Daniel was still spending his days and nights on base, still trying to reconnect with a life he thought he'd never experience again. He spent his days in his office, shuffling through piles of papers he'd previously read, sifting through artifacts he had already catalogued. The fluency of the old tasks helped ground him, reacquainted him with the soul-weary man who had stepped through that gate seven months ago. The man who had returned was much the same, yet he thought he was finally ready to let go of what he'd lost and reach out for what he still had.
All there is left to do is love those we have left.
Noelani's words echoed in his mind, and he only wished he knew how to make that first step in reconnecting with those closest to him. Wished he could connect so readily as she had on the mainland. Unfortunately, for Daniel, old habits died hard, and as always, his first instinct had been to bear up, to continue as though everything was business as usual, and he was just fine, thank you very much.
Maybe tomorrow, when he had less work to do, he'd see if Jack was up for a game of chess, or if Sam wanted to have lunch, or if Teal'c maybe wanted to watch a movie. He reminded himself that that was what he had said the previous day and immediately told the knowing voice inside his head to shut up. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and all that, Daniel thought. The story of his life.
Thankfully, Jack made the first move for him when he poked his head inside Daniel's office and all but dragged him to the commissary for lunch, where Sam and Teal'c were already waiting.
Daniel chose his meal�a large order of fries with gravy, two pieces of chocolate cake and an extra-large cup of coffee. His preferred diet since he'd returned. Their table was decorated with a paper red and green tablecloth depicting Santa Clauses and dancing reindeer. The seasonal decorations still seemed so out of place to him, even after the constant exposure to them since he'd been back. Sam had even put a tiny tinsel-covered Christmas tree in his office, surrounded it with his favorite cookies�a gesture that had made him laugh with surprise and pleasure when he'd first seen it.
As he raised another heaping forkful of heaven toward his mouth, Daniel was oblivious to his friend's amused scrutiny. He immediately washed the cake down with a gulp of coffee. He had never thought he'd taste chocolate cake and coffee again in his life, and his body was all but tingling in ecstasy from the mingled rush of sugar and caffeine.
"Jeez, Daniel." Jack 's voice interrupted his near-orgasmic experience. "Take a second to breathe, for crying out loud!"
Daniel glanced up to see Sam and Jack grinning at him and Teal'c studying him, one brow upraised.
"What?"
"The last time I saw you eat like that was when Urgo was messing with our heads," Jack told him.
"Well, I'm hungry," Daniel protested. If Jack'd had to live on what he'd been eating for the past seven months....
"Let him enjoy his dessert, sir." Sam grinned, coming to Daniel's rescue. "Janet says he needs to regain some of the weight he's lost, so if he wants to do in the first week back on base, why not?"
"Thanks, Sam," Daniel muttered around another mouthful. He swiped a hand across his mouth, leaving a faint streak of chocolate icing on his lips, took a gulp of coffee. He needed another refill already. "I want to gain weight so Janet will give me the go-ahead to get back to work. I'm going nuts with boredom here."
"Not for another week, Daniel," Jack said. "And you can't be that bored. From what I've seen you've been already working too much, as it is. You haven't even gone home yet. We fed your fish, watered your plants... well, Carter watered your plants. I ate your food to make sure it wouldn't go bad. The least you could do is check the place out. Say hi to your fish, or something."
Daniel had been both surprised and touched almost to the point of tears when he heard that his friends had kept his place up for him, as if they had, in their hearts, known all along that he would be back. After all, he'd done it twice before, hadn't he? He wondered if three times was going to be his last and final stint at Nine Lives Jackson. He sure hoped so, because he didn't think he had the energy to pull it off anymore.
Despite the comfort of knowing his home was there, waiting for him, he didn't want to go there yet. He'd spent the entire week on base unsure why he didn't want to leave its confines. Maybe he just didn't want to be alone.
"So what did you guys do the whole time I was gone, anyway?" Did you kill any Goa'uld? Meet any interesting sentient life forms?" Daniel asked, diverting the topic away from himself.
"I'll tell you all about it over beer and pizza," Jack said, looking at him pointedly. "At your place."
Daniel darted his gaze over to Jack, realized his diversionary tactics were getting a little rusty, because no one seemed to be falling for them anymore. "Right. We'll do that," he said, feeling his face redden, and he studied his near empty coffee cup.
When Daniel returned to his office after his less than healthy lunch, he found he wasn't able to concentrate anymore on the books and the translations he had so greatly missed. He was feeling antsy, restless, and he knew it wasn't from the copious amounts of sugar he had consumed.
Slamming the book shut, he stood, ran his hand through his too-long hair, irritably reminded himself to cut it, then stepped out of the office.
*****
Sam closed the door to Daniel's empty office. It was the second time she'd checked it, only to find that Daniel still hadn't returned. She had already looked for him in the commissary, Teal'c's quarters, the infirmary, her lab, the colonel's own empty office, and still there was no sign of her friend.
He'd been far too quiet during lunch, and she didn't want to leave for the day until she at least had a chance to say goodnight to him and make sure he was okay. She hoped he might even be up for grabbing some take-out, although she knew he hadn�t been up for much of anything outside the base since he�d returned so miraculously and unexpectedly.
"Sir, have you seen Daniel?" Sam asked Jack as she passed him in the hallway.
Jack stopped, looked at her. "Since lunch... you mean?"
"Yes, this afternoon. He's not in his office." Sam leaned back against the wall, looked at her CO, wondering how much of her fears she should confide. She thought that Daniel was more withdrawn than ever�seemed continually lost in thought, tense around her, Jack and Teal'c. He'd start to say something, then clamp down on his words, as if he were afraid to articulate what was so troubling him. He would start at sudden noises, seemed uneasy when there were more than one or two people around him at a time. Sometimes he'd start speaking Egyptian without realizing it, then blush, self-conscious and flustered.
"I'm a little worried about him," Sam finally admitted. "He seems..." She shook her head, unable to pinpoint what was troubling her friend.
Jack nodded. "Yeah, what's going on with him, anyway? He's acting even weirder than usual." Though his words were spoken sardonically, Jack's eyes held an expression of equal concern.
"I guess maybe he's upset about leaving that planet," she said with a shrug.
"I guess."
Sam pushed herself off the wall. "I'll keep looking for him. Thanks, sir."
"If you find him before I do, tell him I'm not letting him off the hook on that pizza."
Sam nodded. "I will." As she continued down the hall, she wondered what she'd say to Daniel when she did find him. All her attempts at getting him to open up even before he'd been lost had been thwarted, almost rudely dismissed.
She knew her friend was hurting, but had no idea how to get through to him. That didn't stop her from giving it one more try. She wasn't ready to give up on her best friend just yet.
*****
Daniel closed the heavy metal door behind him, stepped outside into the chain-link enclosed yard of the base. Tiny snowflakes fell from a pale winter late-afternoon sky. The color of the sky hardly registered a hue at all, and it was all together unsatisfying to his eyes that were accustomed to the astonishing brilliance of the sky on the island.
Taking off his snow dusted glasses, he looked up into the darkening sky, and it was strange how this sky now seemed to be the alien one. Squinting against the snowflakes catching in his eyelashes, the blurring of his vision almost gave the illusion of two suns shining weakly on him. If he cleared his thoughts, listened only to the faint hum of machinery and traffic, he could almost believe they were the sounds of the waves, the oscillations that still echoed in his ears and his memory.
He missed those sounds. Missed the island. Missed Dazh. Missed Noelani so much it hurt to even think of her, to remember her touch, her smile. Missed falling asleep together and waking up with her curled against him. Missed the life they had made. But he supposed what he missed the most, what hurt the most, was to wonder what could have been.
Tearing his gaze away�his eyes were too blurred from sudden tears to see properly anyway�he slowly paced the small enclosure, not wanting to go back inside and face the small confines of his office just yet. He continued to pace in an attempt to quiet the turmoil in his thoughts, watched the snow start to cover the ground with white dust as fine as spun sugar.
His fingers were starting to turn numb, and he was shivering in his thin shirt when he heard the door open behind him. Daniel turned to see Sam stepping through. He smiled at her in greeting, something he thought he should do to show her that he was fine, and watched as she came up to him.
She rubbed his arm, looked at him with that worried expression she always wore around him since he'd been back.
"Hey, I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing out here?"
"I was just getting some fresh air. I'm not... used to being inside so much," he said, offering her another brief smile that felt far too forced. "Why were you looking for me?"
Sam noticed that his face was ruddy from the cold, and, she thought, from possible tears. His fingers twined in the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. His other hand swiped at his long hair, impatiently pushing back the wind-blown strands, and he shuffled his feet on the ground, his body never still, as if were uncomfortable in his own skin.
She ignored his question and asked another one of her own. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." He glanced quickly at her, nodded, looked away again when he knew the redness of his eyes belied his words. Let his hair fall back over his forehead, hiding his eyes from scrutiny.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked after a moment, watching the muscles in his jaw clench and his mouth tighten.
"I'm fine," he said again, but his voice broke on the last word and suddenly the pretense became too much, too hard to maintain. He dropped his head until his chin nearly rested on his chest, and he closed his eyes against the sting of tears.
After a moment, he raised his head, tilted it slightly to the side and Sam saw him give in to the truth, saw him shake his head no and pinch his lips hard to keep them from trembling.
"Daniel," she touched his arm again and felt him shivering against her hand, but whether it was from the cold or from his efforts to keep from falling apart, she couldn't tell. "Whatever it is that's... please, let me help you with this. Tell me what I can do to try to make things better."
When his face lifted to hers, and he looked at her once more, tears were glimmering in his red and puffy eyes, threatening to spill over. Daniel smiled again�a smile that held no joy, and said, "I don't know." He drew his hand over his eyes, and the tears were hot against his chilled skin. He took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "But I think that's what I need to find out."
"What's that?"
"How I can let you help me," he said, then let out a soft, humorless laugh. "I'm not very good at this... I mean, you know me."
He looked down at his feet, at the worn, scuffed boots�the leather scarred from the rocks on the island, discolored and cracked from the saltwater, but he still wore them. Took comfort in their familiarity. They had seen him through seven months, and he wasn't ready to let go of them yet.
While he studied his boots, he tried to articulate the multitude of thoughts filling his head, nearly derailing him with their intensity. "I have all these... I'm not sure what it is, but I think I could... no, I could really... I could really use a friend, right now, Sam."
"Okay," Sam said, surprised by his hesitant admission, but trying to keep from showing it. She felt her heart going out to her friend, felt tears of sympathy coming to her eyes.
Daniel looked at her, his eyes wide with his own surprise. "Did that... um, sound as strange to you as it did to me?"
Despite the threatening tears, Sam couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "From you, yes, Daniel. But not from anyone else."
"Well, maybe from Jack, too," he said, returning her smile.
"Yeah, maybe the colonel," she agreed.
Daniel averted his face again, looked up at the sky. Sam followed his gaze, wondering what he saw. Surely the sky alone wouldn't cause the pensive, heartbreakingly sad expression to return to his face.
"Keep talking to me, Daniel," she said, her voice soft. She halfway expected him not to answer, but he did. After a pause, when it seemed he almost visibly pulled his thoughts from whatever corner of the universe they mingled, he began to speak softly, hesitantly.
"This is going to sound stupid," he said, still watching the darkening sky. The moon was just becoming visible through the snowflakes falling faster and thicker, whirling from the increasing wind. "But I... I almost forgot what the sky looked like here�on Earth, I mean."
Sam looked at him. "Really? What was it like there?"
"It was..." he thought for a moment, trying to find the right word. "It was beautiful," he decided. "The sky was the color of amethysts, with two suns�one always higher than the other. The sunsets were the most spectacular thing I've ever seen."
"It sounds incredible," Sam said, keeping her voice soft, not wanting to break this fragile trust, this sharing of something important that Daniel was finally allowing himself.
Daniel nodded, pulling his gaze away. "Yes... it was."
"I guess you must miss it... a little, huh?" Sam asked, cautious.
He nodded again, pulled in a breath. "I miss Noeli," he said, the words spilling out before he could check them.
"You miss what?" Sam asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Not what. Who." His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt once more, and his gaze returned to the ground. He scowled at the increasing snow collecting at his feet, struggled to find the words that were so hard to speak. After a moment, he said, "God, Sam, there's so much...so much I want to tell you. So much I ...need to tell you, but...it's just... kind of hard for me to talk about."
She nodded, rubbed his arm again.
"But I want to try, Sam."
"You know that you can always talk to me no matter what it is, don't you?" she paused until he nodded, although too hesitantly, she thought. When had they drifted so far apart that Daniel would be afraid to come to her? She knew it had happened long before he'd been away for so long, before Sha're's death, even.
Maybe it had happened so gradually that she hadn't fully realized that the once easy, almost instinctive connection they shared had faltered. That the person she cared so much for had slipped away before her very eyes. Hadn't realized how tenuous even such a close friendship could be if you didn't take the time and the energy to nourish it.
"I've... missed you, Daniel," she said, blinking back the prick of tears, taking a futile moment to wish that she had tried harder to reach him back in the first few horrible months after he'd lost Sha're. Wished she hadn't listened when he'd pushed her away. This time, she wasn't going to lose him again. "I missed you so much, and I've missed how we used to talk to each other all the time. You've always been there for me, so let me do the same for you, okay?"
"Okay," he said in a shaky voice, clenching his jaw, squinting his eyes against tears she knew were still very near the surface. And then he tried to offer he a smile, but gave up on it when he felt his lips quivering. "I've missed you too, Sam."
A shadow passed over them, darkening the enclosure, and they both looked up, saw that the sun had gone down, and the white snowflakes swirling above them were in stark contrast to the indigo sky.
Daniel shivered, crossed his arms over his chest. "Can we-" he started.
"Let's go-" Sam said at precisely the same time.
They looked at each other and laughed. Sam hugged herself as her teeth began to chatter. They both were standing outside in the middle of December without their jackets, snow dusting their hair and catching in their lashes, both too entrenched in their thoughts and conversation to notice how cold it had become. "It's freezing out here. Let's go inside, huh?"
Daniel nodded. "I'm sorry, I... didn't... it is freezing," he said, then draped his arm over her shoulder, trying to warm her with his body. "Yeah, we can... let's... let's go inside."
Sam pressed against him, grateful for the warmth, her arm going around his waist. "I even have a new package of coffee with your name on it," she said as they went over to the door.
He opened the heavy metal door for her, and they walked down the empty corridor, stepped into the elevator. They headed for her office, and once inside, Sam shut the door, locked it behind her. She immediately went to the small coffeepot.
After a moment, the cluttered office was filled with the gurgling, sputtering sounds of the coffee machine and the rich, comforting aroma of Turkish coffee�Daniel's favorite. A small gesture that made him smile as he watched her take out two large mugs, sugar and creamers.
She waved off his offers of assistance, so Daniel cleared a spot for both of them on the long, narrow table they always used to prefer to perch on. He sat down and pulled a small piece of wood from his shirt pocket. Looking at the figure�the queen Noelani had given him�he realized that he had, in fact, carved her with a definite likeness to Noeli's strong features.
Sam handed him his coffee, and he thanked her, taking the cup with one hand. Sam sat down close beside him.
"What's that? she asked, gesturing to the figure in his hand.
He gave her a shy, slightly embarrassed smile, but at the same time, he wanted to show it to her. "It's a chess piece. I... uh, I made it," he said, handing it to her.
Sam studied the beautifully carved figure, the curls of driftwood simulating long, flowing hair and the robes of a queen. "Wow. You made this?" she said, her voice holding an equal tinge of disbelief and awe.
He nodded. "It's part of a set. I... I had a lot of time on my hands," he said with a shrug. "Noeli gave it to me to remember her by. She thought it looked like her, and... I guess it kind of does."
Sam handed the piece back to him, picked up her coffee. "I'd like to hear about her."
Daniel looked at the small, carved features, but instead of the wood, he saw Noelani's face. He saw her the way she'd looked the last time he'd seen her, standing outside the ship, waving goodbye, her face washed with tears.
He clenched his jaw, tucked the figure back into his pocket and picked up his own cup. Sam gave him a moment, sensing his struggle to contain his emotions. They both wrapped their cold fingers around the warm porcelain, their legs dangling over the floor, and each took a few sips of the rich brew, neither of them speaking, simply allowing the warmth to flow through their cold bodies.
The warm cup against his icy fingers suddenly reminded Daniel of that day on the beach when Noelani had brought him a cup of tea, and how she had so shyly asked him to tell her how he�d come to be on the island. The day they had begun the pleasurable task of opening up to each other, getting to know the other's worlds and hearts.
He supposed that day was a good a place as any to start, and he told Sam about that sun-drenched afternoon where he'd rested on the rocks, listening to the waves. How he'd been grateful just to be alive, and more importantly, to be granted a reprieve from his crushing isolation and loneliness.
He told Sam everything�the words tumbling cautious and uncertain, but he made himself keep talking. Told her how he had tried to cope those first weeks alone with only the fear that he would never again see another face his sole companion. The loneliness threatening to drive him to despair until Dazhbog had adopted him.
He then told her about Dazh and the animal's intelligence and friendly nature. How Noelani had magically appeared that one day by the graveyard, how she had saved his life in more ways than one. How they had taken care of Jehiah, become a family of sorts. How he and Noelani learned to go on after Jehiah had died, how they had loved each other, and how he'd had to let her go.
As he spoke, Sam listened quietly, urging him on when he faltered, feeling her heart breaking for him with each soft, hesitant word.
"I loved her, and I let her go," he said, then pressed his fingers against his lips to still the tremble that he hoped she hadn't noticed. Hoped she hadn't heard the waver in his voice. "I just left her there, and I didn't stick around long enough to make sure she'd be okay. How could I have done that?" He looked at Sam with eyes full of pain and guilt.
"She'll be okay, Daniel. She has a family and people who love her." Sam told him. "You let her go, because it was for the best for both of you."
"So, leaving her... that was a good thing?" His voice was skeptical and he picked up his empty coffee cup, ran his hands over the still warm surface.
"Yes, it was," she said looking at his downcast features. "It was the most loving thing you could have done for her, because you knew she wouldn't have been happy here, and you knew it was time for you to come home."
"Well, once again I have proven to myself that love stinks." Daniel shook his head, breathed out an acerbic laugh and leaned back against the wall. When he spoke again, his words were even more hesitant, his voice trembling. "If leaving her was the right thing to do, then why do I feel like I... maybe I should have stayed?"
"Because you�re missing her�and you have every right to miss her. She was important to you." Sam leaned back beside him, her shoulder touching his. "You were so alone, and so lost, and Noelani became everything to you. She became your entire world, and you hers, but that world was something that you both created so you could cope. There wasn't any way it could have lasted outside of that, from what you've told me. You helped each other until she found her family," Sam paused to lightly touch his arm, "and you found yours."
He looked at her, his brow creased, trying to work through what she had said.
"That's why you were strong enough to let Noelani go. You loved her enough to leave her with her family and her happiness." Sam watched his profile, saw the effect her words had on him as he sat still and quiet, nodded his head once. "And now it's time for you to find your own happiness."
His own happiness. That wasn't something Daniel could even imagine at this moment, but he thought about Sam's words and realized the truth in them.
And the truth was, he'd left Noelani because he couldn't make her world his anymore. He knew that he no longer possessed the sense of idealism and innocence he�d had back on Abydos, that ability to so easily begin anew. And this time, he had something to come home to, something waiting for him. Though he�d wanted to, he hadn't asked Noeli to come with him because he didn't want her to be faced with becoming as adrift as he'd always been since childhood. Since his notion of home and family had been forever shattered. His transience was something he'd grown accustomed to, but he couldn't have done that to her, couldn't allow her to give up her world and her family for him. That was why he'd let her go.
He did know that he'd made the right decision, but he wished it didn't have to hurt so much. He wrapped his arms tight over his chest as though he could ease the ache in his heart. Dropped his head to hide the tears forming in his eyes.
He noticed Sam watching him with that worried look on her face, and he wished he could say something to ease that worry and show her that he would be okay. Show himself, maybe, too.
Daniel took a deep breath, forced a smile and said, "So I guess this means I should start looking for women who live in the same solar system as me, huh?" Daniel laughed softly in spite of himself, and the flood of emotional release that washed over him helped relax him, if only for a moment. He ran his fingers through his hair, and finally understood Jack�s secret. Humor. The sarcasm and veiled words could hide a lot of what you were really feeling.
"I'm not so badly out of practice, anymore, either," he added. "I mean... Noeli thought I was pretty amazing."
Sam frowned. Looked at him, then smiled. "Were you?"
He shrugged. "Well, I'd like to think so. And besides, she'd been alone a long time, what did she have to compare to? I could have looked like... I don't know... Bill Gates, or something, and she still probably would have thought I was all that."
Sam let out a soft giggle and he joined in her laughter, again finding himself surprised by the release it offered. Their laughter faded, and he looked down at his dangling boots.
"What did she know from amazing..." he said, his voice trailing off. The truth was, she had been the one who had broken through to him. She had lost so much more than he had, yet she'd been the one to show him how to love again.
"She was the one who was amazing," he whispered. The too-near tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks before he could even try to stop them. He turned his head away, angrily swiped at the tears, the rough material on the cuff of his shirt scraping against his skin. "God, what a basketcase."
"No you're not," Sam said, leaning up closer against him, feeling her own tears coming. "You're just hurting, and you need to let this out, before it overwhelms you. It's going to be okay, Daniel."
She reached over his crossed arms and found his hand, pulling it toward her. He resisted for a moment, then allowed her to loosen his grip around his chest, and he clasped her hand in his, holding it tight.
"If you say so."
"Yeah, I do," Sam's voice was soft, and her hand in his felt reassuring.
Sam clasped his fingers, and she knew Daniel wasn't one for compliments, but then again he wasn't one for being physically comforted either, and here they were holding onto one another, giving comfort and accepting it, like friends do. Maybe he'd be able to accept, or even need a compliment, a validation that he had taken a difficult risk, and it had paid off.
"I'm glad you finally talked to me," she told him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
He nodded. "Thank you for listening, Sam. I..." His voice faded again, his words lost in the sea of pain and grief.
"Anytime�and I mean that. And you know what?" She waited until he looked at her. She grinned at him, and wiped the tears from her lashes, smearing her mascara. "You're a lot better looking than Bill Gates, so don't sell yourself short."
He laughed. "Well, I am a lot taller than he is." Sam giggled again and he smiled at her, realized that Sam was the one person he could do this with, could trust enough to be so vulnerable. Realized how much he'd missed her and their friendship. Realized that it was good to be home.
Her eyes became somber, and she snuggled against him. "I'm so sorry you had to lose someone you loved again, Daniel. But I'm not sorry that you came home."
Daniel tried to answer her, but his words turned into a sob and he couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the wall, and felt the tears collecting under his eyelashes, spilling down his face.
Sam's fingers tightened around his and she pressed closer to him, murmuring softly that everything would be okay, that she was going to help him through this. He remembered speaking the same words to Noelani after they'd lost Jehiah, and he hadn't realized how badly he needed the favor returned.
Daniel let Sam's soft voice wash over him, and he no longer listened to the actual words, just the comforting sound of her voice was enough. He allowed the tears to fall, felt the painful grip on his heart loosen a little. Despite how much he ached for what he'd given up, he finally knew that this was where he belonged, where he felt safe.
He kept a tight hold on Sam's hand, grateful to her for anchoring him against the overwhelming tides of his heartache. His loss and sadness moored against the solidity of a friendship stronger than the turbulent seas. Held fast by a friend who was his beacon, whether he knew to look for the light or not.
*****
~Finis~