That Meaning of Life Stuff

Author: BadgerGater

Email: [email protected]

Category: Sequel, drama, H/C

Pairing: None

Rating: G, Jack's feeling mellow tonight; Safe for all the children, the faint of heart and even those who can't stand the sight of blood

Season/Sequel: Two, sequel to The Fifth Race

Summary: Jack's POV after his experiences in the Fifth Race; a little introspection from a normally not very introspective guy

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted without the author's consent.

Authors Notes: So what did Jack really think of those alien Roswell guys?

Okay, so I lied.

It wasn't quite true, my saying I didn't remember a thing. Call it a little white lie. Because I did remember things, a lot of things, just not anything of importance to the SGC or the Air Force or anyone else but me. And to tell the truth, I wasn't too sure about the alright part either.

Once we all got over looking at each other with silly grins of relief on our faces, Fraiser pulled rank over me and made me stop in down at the infirmary.

----------------

"Look, Doc, there's nothing wrong with me," I insisted.

"Colonel, I'm sure you're fine. But just let me do my job and check, okay? You definitely weren't fine a few hours ago." There was genuine concern in Doc's eyes. Good doc, Fraiser. I knew she'd tried her best to help me.

"No need to worry, Doc. The Asgard fixed me all up."

"I'm sure they did, Sir, but I have to verify it. You know how it is, Colonel, this is the Air Force. Nothing is official until it's been reported. So, a few questions, just to make sure things are copasetic. Name?"

I leveled an exasperated look at her, but I couldn't really be mad. I was just so glad to be *me* once again, to be able to talk, and to communicate. "Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Today's date?"

"No fair, Doc. Don't know. I, uh," I waved a hand in the air, "I had a rough couple of days, with all that 'stuff' stuffed into my head. Didn't exactly take the time to look at my calendar."

"Have you got an idea how many days have passed since..."

"Since we went to Pxwhatwasit? No, two, maybe three."

"Close enough. What's the last date you do remember?"

"Tuesday, when we went to that planet. The third."

"Okay. What happened?"

"On that planet? I looked into that alien thingy, saw a bunch of colored lights, and then I woke up back here. Afterwards, strange stuff started happening..."

"Like?"

"You know better than I do, Doc."

"Humor me, Colonel. Tell me what you remember."

"Okay, I started using strange words, and I couldn't remember the right words for things, and pretty soon I couldn't speak anything at all but that alien Latin speech; I couldn't understand you and you couldn't understand me, except for Daniel, sometimes." I paused, shivering, remembering how lost I'd felt and left out. "And then I drew that diagram of the DHD, to fix it so Carter and Teal'c could come back; and I built that power converter doohickey so I could go visit those nice Roswell-Asgard alien guys, who rewired my brain and sent me home, and now I'm fine." I finished with a triumphant grin. See, I did remember it all, err, most of the important parts, anyway.

"Okay. Now Colonel, I need to test your verbal responses. I'll say a word, you say whatever word pops into your head. Like I say in, you say out, I say front you say back, like that. Got it?"

I gave her an annoyed look, but nodded. "Okay."

"Young," she said.

"Old," I countered

"That's it," Doc said with a grin. "Left."

"Right."

"Day..."

"Night."

"First..."

"Base."

She chuckled. "Black..."

"Hawks."

Fraiser laughed. "Well, those are not exactly the standard responses, but they sound normal enough to me, Colonel, at least for you."

I answered a bunch more of her questions, proved I knew when and where I was born, my serial number, my mother's maiden name, my address and phone number and could count to ten, backwards and forwards. Passed all her tests without any more of those odd alien words popping out of my mouth. Quite a relief, actually.

"Well I can't find anything physically wrong with you. And your verbal acuity seem normal."

"But..." I added, knowing Doc always had one.

She grinned. "No buts this time, Colonel. You seem fine, despite everything. My prescription is a good dinner and a good night's sleep, neither of which you'll get here, so go home."

I looked at her in surprise. "You're kicking me out?"

"I'll keep you here if you'd like," she said with a wicked grin.

"No, no. I'll be happy to go."

I didn't get to go home right away, of course, because Hammond called all of SG-1 into a lengthy briefing about the whole incident. I told him everything I remembered about the Asgard, and about us being the 'Fifth Race' and the weird architecture or whatever it was on their planet out there in the Ida galaxy. It wasn't much actually.

As soon as we were done, I headed for home. I didn't even take the time to change from my BDUs to civvies because I had to get out of the mountain before Hammond or Fraiser or someone else decided I should stay. I needed space, a cold beer, some fresh air and a lot of time to think about what had happened to me.

---------------

I'd been up on the roof for a couple of hours before I heard the car pull in, then soft footsteps crossing my driveway. He rang the doorbell, pounded on the front door calling my name, walked around the back, and then came into the backyard by the ladder.

"Jack, are you up there?"

I considered not answering, but I knew he'd come up to look anyway. What the hell. "Yeah."

I heard his footsteps on the ladder. In a moment, Daniel Jackson settled himself on the other chair on my little rooftop observatory. I waved at the six pack of beer sitting near my feet, I thought there was probably a full one left.

He shook his head no. "You left the base in such a hurry. You okay?"

"Fine." So that was what I always told everyone, and everyone knew it meant either, yes, I'm okay; no, I'm not okay at all; or maybe, I'm not sure; but mostly, it meant I wasn't going to talk about it.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to think about it. Contrary to what people might assume about me, I *do* think about a lot of stuff, that's why I spend so much time up here, thinking about things, things too big to be contained inside a room in my house. Things that need the peace and the space I find up here. Things I really can't face, down there, in a regular, normal kind of place. Things that get pretty heavy for a straightforward man like me to contemplate. I'm military, I like things to be black and white; I like things clear cut; I like things to fit in an orderly world where I know who the good guys are and who the bad guys are.

There's not much of that in life, and even less in the Stargate program.

So I come up here to the roof to deal with things. Things like having worlds full of knowledge stuffed into my head, leaving me alone and disconnected from everyone and everything I knew; things like meeting aliens, maybe the first human in who knew how long, if ever, to come face to face with those...people and talk to them; things like feeling terrified that I was coming apart, from the inside out.

Terrified. Whole new feeling for Jack O'Neill, that, and not one I liked.

The silence stretched into long minutes. Surprisingly, Daniel can be awfully quiet sometimes for a guy who usually talks so much.

"Nice and quiet up here," he said finally.

"It was. Before you came." I took another sip of my beer, it was my fourth, or maybe fifth. But it wasn't working, not getting me drunk and relaxed, just getting me drunk and thick headed. Damn. "Sort of nice, to be alone in my own head for a change."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly.

I surprised myself. "No. Glad you're here." The last couple days I'd been so alone, even in a room full of people, that I suddenly realized I really didn't want to be alone, now.

Daniel said nothing, neither did I, for a quite a while longer. We just sat and looked out at the stars.

Finally Daniel said, very softly, "I always sort of thought, when we finally met someone out there, that they'd have some big secret for us, some wonderful revelation. You know, they'd explain the meaning of life stuff."

"Disappointing so far, aren't they?"

He smiled. "Yeah." It was quiet again for a few minutes before he continued. "All those people, spending their lives speculating on things we know and can't tell. Makes me crazy, sometimes, knowing the truth and that I can't reveal it."

"Thinking about that will drive you crazy." I took another sip of my beer. "And I know a lot about crazy."

"You weren't crazy, Jack, just a little, ahh, overloaded."

I grinned. "Rather overloaded right now."

Daniel smiled.

"I wish I could remember what it was like, knowing all that. Must be what it's like to be you, or Carter. Smart. Knowing things."

Daniel laughed. "We know nothing, compared to what they know," he said, waving his hand out there at the stars.

I was silent a long while again, and then I leaned forward, staring at the empty bottle I was holding in my hands. "I touched him."

"Touched who?"

"Thor." I smiled. "I touched his hand, and it felt just like yours or mine. Soft. Warm. Looked funny but it felt the same. Odd little guys, big eyes, tiny hands." I took the now empty bottle, went to set it on the little table, missed, heard it roll down the roof and hit the hard concrete driveway, and smash. I'd have a mess to clean up in the morning. "And what did you do at work today, Mr. O'Neill? Oh, just took a nice little wormhole ride to another galaxy and talked to a couple of little gray men." I fought back the urge to giggle, not funny giggle, but a slightly hysterical giggle. "They lock people up for telling stories like that."

We were both quiet for a long time. Strangely, I didn't feel drunk anymore, not like I'd just chugged five beers. "I don't think I'll ever feel quite so alone again."

I heard Daniel stir. "What do you mean?"

"When all that alien stuff was in my head, all that information, it was crowding out the part of me that's me. I couldn't remember the important things, things like what I ate for breakfast, or where I was born, or whether I like to eat broccoli..."

"You hate broccoli."

"I remember that now," I said testily. "But then, everything that was me was going or gone. Disappearing. I was disappearing. It was like trying to swim against the tide, and I was losing ground." I paused. "Except you were there, anchoring me, keeping that part of me that was human from being swept away by the tide."

"You would have done the same for me."

"You don't know that."

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do."

I chuckled. "You're a good man, Daniel. I just needed to say thanks." In the darkness, I couldn't see his face very well, but I thought I saw it color a little.

"You didn't have to."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

I started to laugh. It felt good, human, natural, normal to laugh out loud, sitting up here on my roof, looking up at the night sky. It felt like Jack O'Neill, Air Force Colonel, Stargate explorer, smart ass, cocky SOB, and thoroughly human. A guy whose best friend's name was Daniel.

"I think I can sleep now." I said softly.

"Yeah? You're gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." I answered. "We're all gonna be okay." I paused, trying to find a way to explain it. "See, that meaning of life stuff, Daniel, the answers aren't out there. They're in here," I said reaching over and tapping his chest. "They're inside all of us."

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