The Mobius Strip
The Mobius Strip
by SueS
Summary: What would happen if Daniel Jackson was able to go back in time and change one event in his life?
Category: Angst
Episode Related: 001 Stargate - The Movie, 101 Children of the Gods, 204 The Gamekeeper, 310 Forever in a Day
Holiday: Christmas
Season: any Season
Pairing: Daniel/other, Jack/Sam, Jack/Janet, Jack/Sara, Jack/other, Sam/Teal'c, Sam/Jonas, Sam/Martouf, Sam/other, Teal'c/Janet, Teal'c/other, Janet/other, Martouf/Jolinar, other pairing, none
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).
Archived on: 10/19/03
Daniel brushed off the dusting of snow that had fallen on his deep brown hair and the shoulders of his over-sized jacket as he looked down at the old man peering out from behind the apartment door. Daniel could see that he had once been a hefty man, but the heft had been replaced by a roundness acquired with age and the once towering frame was now hunched over with arthritis. A faint ring of dull grey hair was all that remained of the male-pattern baldness that had long since lay claim to the old man's head. He wore a drab grey sweater over a faded dark blue plaid flannel shirt and a pair of dingy brown pants.
Daniel's wire-rimmed glasses began to fog up from the heat emanating from the room. He removed them and squinted. "Professor Lloyd?"
The professor smiled and opened the door wide. "Daniel, come in."
Putting his glasses back on as he walked into the apartment, Daniel could see that it was a small efficiency apartment. Off to the left was the kitchen area, a wall that held a stove, a sink, and a small refrigerator in a neat little row. On the wall opposite the door were two grimy windows. The professor had long since abandoned any thought of keeping the windows clean in the hopes of catching some natural sunlight. Being a third-story apartment surrounded by much taller buildings left little room for natural or even unnatural light to find its way into the room. A small, round wooden table sat under one of the windows. Next to that was a large leather steamer trunk of the kind used during the glamour days of traveling by steam ship. The only other furniture in the room was a couple of miss-matched chairs - 2 wooden straight-back chairs, a well-worn green brocade over-stuffed chair and a small Queen Anne style end table. Daniel wondered for a moment where the professor slept before he spied a fold-away bed propped up against the wall next to the door. The right wall was completely covered by a bookcase that ran from floor to ceiling. Books and artifacts were jammed onto the shelves every which way - horizontally, vertically and diagonally.
The room was dark, dusty, musty and crowded. Books, artifacts, knick-knacks, bric-a-brac, ledgers, journals, and odd bits and pieces seemed to fill just about every available space in the cramped little room. Daniel eyed the books with a twinge of jealousy. What he wouldn't give to spend a week, a month, a year poring over a fraction of those books. He knew that some of them were original manuscripts and he wondered how many of them the professor had actually read.
The professor busied himself in the kitchen area.
"It's getting quite cold out there, isn't it?" he remarked.
"Umm, yes it is," said Daniel as he removed his jacket. While it was below freezing outside, it had to be at least 80 degrees in the professor's apartment.
"Would you care for some coffee?"
"Yes, please."
After several moments of silence, Daniel wondered if the professor was going to wait for the water to boil before starting up the conversation again. Professor Lloyd had been a friend of his parents. Daniel had met him only once, very briefly, when he was quite young. A few days before his parents were to set up their exhibit at the New York Museum of Art, Professor Lloyd had stopped by their apartment to wish them well. Daniel's father had introduced him as a close friend and mentor.
"I was surprised to hear from you. I thought you were, umm ...?" Daniel began.
"Dead?" asked Lloyd.
"Ah, yes," Daniel replied with a twinge of embarrassment. Several years ago a rumor had spread through the archeological community that a Professor Elton Lloyd had electrocuted himself in a freak accident at a dig in Giza. At the time, Daniel was almost certain this was the same Professor Lloyd who had been a friend to his parents. After all, how many archeologists were there named Elton Lloyd?
"No, no, no. The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." The professor smiled at his own little joke as he shuffled over to Daniel holding a cup of steaming hot coffee. He handed the cup to Daniel.
"Here, sit," he said as he pointed to the over-stuffed chair next to the end table. Daniel sat and placed his cup on a small unoccupied corner of the table. Daniel liked his coffee hot, but this seemed almost too hot, so he decided to let it cool down a bit before taking a sip.
Professor Lloyd shuffled over to the bookcase. After a while, Daniel wondered if the professor had once again forgotten about him as he seemed to have gotten lost in looking for something. Daniel cleared his throat, hoping the sound would remind Professor Lloyd that there was someone else in the room. Whether or not he heard Daniel, the professor continued to mutter and look.
"Where is it, where is it? I saw it just last week. It was ... Ah! Here it is." Professor Lloyd smiled as he reached out for a small stone box. Turning around to face Daniel, he held up the small box victoriously "Here it is." He dragged one of the wooden chairs to a place directly opposite Daniel, sat down and held out the box to Daniel.
Daniel took it and began to examine the box. It was made of sandstone and had no discernable markings on it.
"Well, it looks Egyptian. Second dynasty?" he asked.
"Open it."
Daniel removed the lid and let out an audible gasp as he peered down at the contents.
"You've seen one of these before?" asked Elton as he peered suspiciously at Daniel.
"No, umm, I haven't. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it."
Daniel held up the object. It was a solid gold bracelet. The band was about 1 inch wide with a single twist in it - a Mobius strip. Attached to the band was a turquoise scarab with its legs wrapped loosely around the band letting a person move the bug around so that at one point the scarab was on the outside of the bracelet, and at another point on the inside. What had caused Daniel to gasp was that the bracelet was covered with the glyphs from the stargate.
"Umm, where did you say you got this?" Daniel asked, trying to regain his composure.
The professor went to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. "I didn't." He sipped his coffee and pointed to the cup he had poured for Daniel. "That's probably cool enough now. You can drink it."
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Daniel took a sip. The coffee was actually a little too cool now.
"You know, I was at that famous lecture of yours," the professor said as he sat back down.
"You mean the umm .."
"Yes, that one."
"So, umm, what did you think?"
"I thought it was pure poppycock," snarled Professor Lloyd.
"Oh." Daniel raised his eyebrows and wondered if the professor had invited him over simply to tell him that he thought he was nuts. Daniel wanted nothing more than to say it wasn't poppycock, that everything he had theorized in his lecture had turned out to be true. It was just his bad luck that he was unable to talk about it, so Daniel simply bit his lip.
"But since you are in to that sort of stuff," the professor continued, "I thought you might like to see that."
Daniel wanted to get off the subject of THAT lecture as quickly as possible. "Ah, yes. That. Umm, this." He said as he held up the bracelet. "Exactly what is this?"
"According to the shopkeeper who sold it to me at a bazaar in Cairo, it's a time machine." Professor Lloyd replied matter of factly.
Daniel coughed and stuttered. "Wha ... whoa ... umm ...time? This? This is a time machine? How?"
The professor pulled out a small dog-eared notepad from a pocket in his sweater and showed it to Daniel. The pages were filled with numbers and glyphs, divided into two columns. On one side were combinations of four stargate symbols and on the other side were written - year, month, day, and hour. "It appears that moving our little friend here onto different combinations of symbols brings you to different moments in your own history."
"Your own history? So, I can't use it to go back in time and have a conversation with Ramses?"
"Unfortunately, no." Professor Lloyd sat back in his chair.
"How do you know this thing works?"
"I don't." The professor took another sip of his coffee. "I suspect if you went back in time and somehow managed to change anything about your history, that would become your reality and any previous memory you might have had will disappear. So ..."
"So," Daniel continued, "If I went back in time and changed something, I wouldn't know I had done anything."
"I think you are beginning to get the picture," the professor said with a nod.
Then he let out a sigh and looked down at the coffee cup he held in his hand. "Oh well, I suspect it really doesn't work. More likely than not, I was probably duped by a very effective con-artist. But, imagine how much good something like that could do, if it did work?" The professor looked up at Daniel, who was studying the device and the notes intently. "Imagine all the pain and suffering one could erase from their life. Take you for instance, Daniel."
Daniel was a bit startled to hear his name. "What?"
Professor Lloyd slowly leaned forward again in his chair until his face was just inches from Daniel. "Daniel Jackson, what would you give to be able to go back in time and prevent that cover stone from crushing your parents?"
Daniel was taken aback by the question. This wasn't something he had considered. He hadn't looked at the device in terms of what it could do for him.
"I would give anything if I could, but I'm not so sure that would be the right thing to do."
"What would be so wrong about it?"
Well, something was gnawing at him, telling him it was wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Perhaps he didn't want to. He had thought about the Grandfather Paradox Carter had mentioned when they were transported back to 1969, but that had to do with killing your grandfather, not saving your parents. He thought about the other time travel dilemmas they had discussed, but at the time none of them seemed like a good enough reason NOT to do something to prevent his parents from dying. Saving someone's life would be a good thing, would it not? "I don't know," he finally replied. "I just don't think we should arbitrarily run back into our pasts and change things we don't like."
The professor nodded. "Yes, you are probably right," he replied.
"You are quite like your father, you know," the professor said with a slight smile. "It's a shame that he never got the chance to see what a fine young man you turned out to be, and it's a shame that a young child, such as yourself, had to go through life without the benefit of two loving parents. It must've been very lonely for you." Daniel said nothing. Lloyd moved closer and practically whispered in Daniel's ear. "Daniel, haven't you ever thought that you deserved more out of life?"
Daniel never really thought about what he deserved. He tried not to look at life in terms of rewards and punishment. If he did, then his punishments would surely outweigh his rewards. His reward for making one of the most important discoveries in the history of the world had been to become the laughing stock of the archeological community and to live with the knowledge that he would never be able to tell them he was right. His reward for loving Sha're had been for her to become a host to Amonet and wife to Apophis. Later he had been rewarded with watching her die from a staff weapon blast delivered by his friend Teal'c. His reward for having two loving parents had been to watch them die a horrible death.
"Ice cream," Daniel said quietly with a melancholy smile on his face.
"Ice cream?"
"Yeah, my mom and dad promised to take me out for ice cream after the exhibit was set up, if I promised not to touch anything in the museum."
The two were silent for a moment. Daniel hoped the professor hadn't seen him wipe away the tear that had gotten caught on his glasses.
"I truly am sorry, Daniel. You have always struck me as someone who deserved more than the hardships life has dealt him." Elton took a sip of his coffee, and then placed his cup back down on the table. "Oh well," he continued slowly, "as I said, this thing probably doesn't work anyway. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, and I'm truly sorry for bringing up so many painful memories."
Professor Elton reached over and took the device from Daniel. "Did you know you have your mother's eyes?" The professor asked as he started to place the device back in the box.
"Wait," said Daniel as he put up his hand to stop the professor. "I suppose there wouldn't be any harm in seeing if this thing works."
"No, I suppose not."
"And, I suppose if it works, I could go there and back again and let you know you weren't taken in by the greatest con artist west of the Nile."
"And I suppose if it doesn't work we can all have a good laugh," responded the professor as he handed the device back to Daniel.
Daniel took a deep breath as if he was diving into the deep unknown and placed the Mobius band on his wrist. The professor handed Daniel the notepad. "Here," he said, pointing to four symbols. Daniel moved the scarab over each symbol. Each time the scarab glowed and hummed as it stopped.
Suddenly Daniel felt himself being turned inside out or was it the outside turning in on him? A sweet melodious tone filled his ears and deepened until he was blanketed in a low black hum.
Open your eyes, Daniel thought. He did. And with that simple action Daniel found himself in the New York Museum of Art. The place was dark and deserted. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim light before he started to explore. He saw several large packing crates and trunks filled with equipment. On one of the crates was a packing slip "The Melbourne and Claire Jackson Exhibit. Temple Entrance" Daniel ran his fingers across his parents' name. No, it couldn't be. Had the device actually worked? Daniel picked up a clip board lying on top of one of the crates.
EXHIBIT SET UP
JACKSON EXHIBIT
EQUIPMENT CHECK LIST.
SET-UP: 7:00AM
Daniel looked at his watch. It was 6:36AM. His heart began beating wildly in his chest. Daniel Jackson has always been a man of his word, and when he had told Professor Lloyd that he was simply going to go there and come right back, he had honestly and truly meant it, but now this opportunity was staring him in the face. How could he NOT do something? How could he turn his back on this? It was as if the Fates were saying "We're sorry for all the heartache we've caused you and we want to make amends." Daniel knew exactly what he had to do and he didn't have much time.
First, he knew the only people in the museum at this time would be the workmen setting up the displays, so he found an extra pair of workman's overalls in a supply closet and put them on. Daniel returned to the checklist and ran his finger down the list of items until he came to the one he was looking for - Grade 80 Alloy Chain. He quickly looked around the room. His heart pounded more wildly in his chest. Time was running out. There, over in that corner. A pile of chains. Daniel grabbed some in his hands and .... "Now what?" he asked himself.
Daniel knew that it was a broken chain that had caused the cover stone to fall and crush his parents. It had been one faulty link that gave way, but Daniel would be here all day trying to find it.
"This is useless," he said as he let the chain slowly slip out of his hands.
The chains sounded almost liquid as he let them slip and slurp through his fingers. He watched as the last link thunked against the rest of them. Thunk? That didn't sound right. Daniel grabbed the end of the chain and held the link up to the light. There it was. It wasn't very big, but it was definitely there. A crack in the link.
Daniel ran over to a tool box and started rummaging. Once again he was overcome with a feeling that time was running out. He had to work fast. That nagging feeling of "is this the right thing to do," would have to be dealt with later. He found what he was looking for, a hacksaw.
In no time at all Daniel was holding that hideous link in his hand. That hated piece of metal. That crack that had divided his life so completely and painfully no longer existed. He wanted to toss it, to fling it out into the darkness.
Before he had a chance to deal with the dreaded object, Daniel Jackson was suddenly filled with a completely new sensation, something he had never experienced before. Daniel looked down at his hands and was horrified to realize that he was fading away. He watched in amazement as the molecules that made up his body slowly separated themselves and melted away.
Gil's Tavern.
It wasn't that the regulars at Gil's didn't take kindly to strangers; it was just that strangers had a tendency to upset the natural order of things. Jack O'Neill pushed open the door and had a quick look around. It was just like any other bar in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, or the Land of 10,000 Bars, O'Neill thought. That was a good one; he'd have to try it on someone some day.
The place was dark and dingy, and smelled of stale beer and stale cigarette butts. A heavy haze of smoke lingered at nose level. The only sign of what might be going on in the world outside was a Christmas wreath hanging from the mouth of a large blue shark mounted on the wall behind the bartender. A hockey game blared on the TV in the corner. Jack noticed an empty barstool not too far from the television. Just the place he wanted to be.
"So, what'll it be?" asked the bartender as Jack took his seat.
"Beer. Whatever you have on tap."
The bartender drew a large stein and slid it down to Jack. He watched Jack watch the game. "So, are you a fan?" he asked, nodding towards the TV.
"Yeah, something like that." Jack was not in the mood for conversation. He never was. The fine art of conversation, making small talk, enjoying the little things in life, meeting new people, having new adventures had died with his son Charlie one hot summer day.
Jack hoped that Gil, or whoever was the bartender du jour, would take the hint as he fixed his gaze intently on the game. He did. Gil walked away and busied himself with rinsing and stacking beer steins on the back shelf.
Now, this was the way life was meant to be. A seedy bar, a cold beer, and a hockey game. What more could a man ask for. Jack felt a heavy poke on his left shoulder. He turned around, looked up, and saw a Bubba looming over him. It was always a Bubba or a Biff or a Bo.
"Hey buddy, that's my seat," he snarled.
Jack took a quick glance up at the Budweiser clock on the wall before turning his attention back to his new found friend. A little quicker than most places, but certainly not a world's record. It wasn't that Jack went looking for fights; they seemed to find him on their own.
"Well, it's my seat now. Finder's keepers and all that."
Jack went back to watching the game, hoping Bubba would take a hint as quickly as Gil had. Unfortunately, Bubba types were generally slow learners. Jack felt two heavy hands clamp down on his shoulders. "Yep, definitely a slow learner," Jack said under his breath. "Slow, but strong."
Jack felt himself being pulled off the barstool and dumped on the floor. Bubba and a few Bubba-ites laughed at their accomplishment.
Jack knew the smart thing to do would be to just walk out the door, but he was in no mood to be smart right now. He brushed himself off as he stood, lightly tapped Bubba on the shoulder and met the man's face with a right hook as the guy turned around.
The fight was on. Size and numbers-wise the odds were not in Jack's favor, but he didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed the challenge. As Jack ducked low to avoid a wide sweeping blow from Bubba, he delivered a roundhouse kick to the midsection of a Bubba-ite on his right. The Bubba-ite let out an oof and started to fall back.
Hey, things aren't going too bad here, Jack thought. His assessment was a bit premature, however. He felt a heavy blow to his gut that took his breath away. Jack coughed. A few drops of blood splattered onto Bubba's left cheek and the tip of his nose. Jack felt his shirt. It was hot and wet. The room began to spin. Jack looked down. The last thing he remembered seeing before everything went white was a bloodstained knife in Bubba's hand.
Something had to give.
By now, the neighbors were used to the yelling and screaming coming from the yellow house with the privet hedge. It was a common occurrence.
"Where the hell are you going?" the man yelled.
"Out!" she screamed as she walked out the door.
"Fine!" he yelled from the porch as she got into her car. "This time, don't come back, ya bitch."
Mrs. Feldman had been walking Fifi, her toy poodle at the time and had witnessed the whole ugly exchange. Poor Fifi was trembling with fear. Mrs. Feldman stood there dumbfounded, watching the man standing on his snow-covered porch, ragged bathrobe flapping in the wind.
"What the hell are you looking at?" he quipped.
Mrs. Feldman picked up Fifi and scurried home.
Samantha Carter had always been a driven woman who achieved her goals. Everything had been right on track - Air Force Academy, Pentagon, NASA - until the accident. It hadn't even been a heroic accident. She hadn't been injured in the line of duty. It had been a stupid freak accident. She had been standing on the stairs giving directions to a new cadet when her foot slipped and she fell. She cracked three vertebrae, spent a year in traction, two years in intensive physical therapy and the rest of her life in constant pain. To add insult to injury, her father had been diagnosed with lymphoma and died during her last year of therapy. They had had a strained relationship, but perhaps if he had been around he would've advised her not to get back with Jonas Hanson.
She and Jonas had had one of those on-again off-again relationships right from the get-go. The relationship had been more on than off at the time of the accident and he had been one of the few people who actually stuck by her and gave her the encouragement she needed, but that had soon changed.
Sam had no idea how far she had driven. She wasn't even sure which direction she was headed. What she did know was something had to give. She wasn't going to live her life like this any more. She was tired of the constant fighting, tired of feeling sorry for herself, tired of feeling so damn miserable. This was not the life she was meant to live. This was not the life she had planned.
Sam reached over and opened the glove compartment to retrieve a map. A temporary glance away from the road. An unruly map. Coffee spilt in the cab of an 18-wheeler. A patch of black ice. Carter watched in horror as the tanker serpentined across three lanes of traffic. The driver desperately tried to regain control of the unruly monster. Too much. He over-compensated and the tanker flipped over on its side and started screeching and scraping towards her.
The impact was inevitable. Swerve left! It was her only chance, she thought. The back-end of the sleek silver cylinder crashed into the passenger side. The explosion sent Samantha Carter flying out the window like a rag doll and deposited her in the middle of the road.
The last thing Jack remembered was being on the wrong end of a hunting knife. He instinctively reached down to touch his wound. Nothing. No blood, no stab wound, no pain.
Jack now found himself in the middle of a huge stadium. At least that was the first thing that came to mind as he looked around the big, dark blue metallic dome. A stadium, but without the important stuff, like ice or hockey sticks or hockey players or concession stands or fans or goalies or ... Jack noticed an opening that led to a long cathedral-like hallway that seemed to go on forever.
"Hello, anybody home?" Jack yelled as he peered down the hall.
"Colonel O'Neill," a soothing voice responded. "So nice to see that you are okay."
"And it's nice to know that I am okay. Do I know you?" he asked, looking around for the source of the voice.
"No, you do not, but we have known each other for many years."
"OK, now that answer made absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"We know each other, but we have never met."
"Am I dead? Is this some sort of eternal punishment?"
"I assure you, Colonel O'Neill, you are very much alive," the voice replied.
Jack heard a low hum coming from the far end of the hallway.
"If you will excuse me, Colonel O'Neill, I have an urgent matter to attend to," the voice replied.
"More urgent than me? Hey, what's your name?" Jack yelled.
There was silence. Jack wondered if the voice was mulling over its decision as to whether or not to reveal his true identity at this time.
"My name is Thor," the soft comforting voice finally replied.
Again there was silence. When Jack felt certain that his invisible host had left he decided to take a stroll down the hall.
Pain. There should've been lots of pain. There was none.
Sam blinked. She looked around the room. Except for a clear platform hanging from the ceiling which held several triangular shaped crystalline disks, the deep blue, almost black room was completely barren.
"Major Carter?" a voice said.
"Thanks for the promotion," she said looking around the room. "But I retired from the Air Force and I was never a Major."
"Ah, forgive me," the voice replied. "It's just that when I last knew you, you were a Major."
"How do you know me?"
"Through a mutual friend."
"Who?" she asked as she scanned the room. She could not see any P.A. system or cameras, but knew there had to be some way for her invisible captor to keep tabs on her.
"Someone you have not yet met."
"If we haven't met, how can we be mutual friends?"
Her question was met with silence.
"Well, then, can I ask you who you are?" Sam continued
"I am Thor," the voice replied. With that, a section of the wall slid away revealing a long hallway. Carter peered down the hall and noticed a man walking towards her.
"Thor?" she called out.
The man stopped. "No," he replied rather hesitantly. "You ... Thor?"
"No. Samantha Carter."
"O'Neill, Jack O'Neill," he said.
Sam backed away slightly as the man entered the room and began looking around. He looked just as lost and confused as she felt.
"I don't suppose you know why we're here?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Haven't a clue. Just moved in down the hall myself. Although, my room isn't furnished," he said tapping the platform. "How about you?"
Sam shook her head in response.
"Well, it would be nice if our host would show his face," Jack shouted into the room.
Carter and Jack looked at each other wondering if their invisible host would respond.
"I apologize for my apparent rudeness, but I'm afraid it would be too great a shock to your system if you were to see me now, but if you will each take one of those disks ..."
"And if we don't?" O'Neill challenged.
There was no response.
"Perhaps we should," Carter reasoned. "It may be the only way we can get out of here."
Sam picked up one of the disks and tossed another one over to Jack. He held up the disk for the voice to see. "OK, now what?"
Suddenly, their minds were filled with memories of lives they had never lived. They poured down upon each of them like a cleansing shower until they were etched upon their souls and became their memories. Stargate, wormhole, Hammond, Abydos, Teal'c, Daniel, gate travel, SG-1. They each relived a wonderful life that had never been lived before, complete with all the sights, sounds and emotions that went with it. The sound of the chevrons engaging and the wormhole being established; the smell of General Hammond's after-shave and Daniel's coffee; the reassuring presence of Teal'c; the anticipation of stepping through the Stargate onto an uncharted planet; the exhilaration of fighting the Goa'uld. These were memories that renewed their spirits.
Sam looked over at the man who had only moments earlier been a complete stranger. "Colonel O'Neill?"
Jack raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the now familiar face. "Major Carter, I presume?"
"Sir, I don't know how to explain this, but I have memories of two distinct lives."
"Yeah, I know the feeling. So, what's the last thing you remember?"
Sam thought for a moment. "It's either watching the back end of a tanker crash into my car or wrapping your Christmas present."
"You brought me a Christmas present?" Jack asked surprised.
"Yeah. How about you?"
"Oh, yeah, sure I got you a present."
"No. I mean what were you doing before this happened?"
"Oh that." O'Neill made a mental note - buy Carter a Christmas present when I get back. "I was either at a bar drinking a beer trying to watch a hockey game and getting stabbed, or I was at home ... drinking a beer ... watching a hockey game, ... but without the stabbing." He smiled sheepishly.
"So, whatever happened to us was not a result of gate travel," Carter theorized.
"Nope, I guess not."
"Nor is this some sort of parallel universe, since we each have two very distinct memories of the same timeframe," she continued.
"Yes, that's very true," Jack replied in his "I have no idea what you are talking about, but I'm going to pretend like I do" voice.
"Sir, I'm thinking someone may have figured out a way to tamper with our pasts."
A small bluish-grey creature appeared in the doorway. "I'm afraid Major Carter is not far from the truth."
"Thor! Nice to see ya, old buddy!" Jack exclaimed. "Care to fill us in on what's happening?"
His great dark eyes blinking, Thor looked at O'Neill and then Carter. "In less than twenty-four hours, your planet will be destroyed."
"Ok, I was hoping for something a little more pleasant," Jack replied.
Daniel Jackson had a wonderful life. It was a blessed life. Some might even call it enchanted. Being the only child of two world famous archeologist had provided him with countless adventures in many different lands. By the time he was fourteen he had lived in more countries and been exposed to more cultures than most adults. His only experience of a traditional classroom setting had been when he was eight years old and his parents had set up a display of some of their artifacts at the New York Museum of Art. His father had taken a temporary job as head curator, and his mother had accepted a guest lecturer's position at NYU. Claire had enrolled Daniel in the Hunter College Elementary School for Gifted Children. It didn't last long, though. The headmaster contacted the Jacksons' two days into the semester and told them young Daniel was being disruptive in class. It wasn't Daniel's fault, though; the teacher had been wrong, but rather than sit there and argue, Claire felt she would do a much better job of educating Danny herself. So, while most children were learning that the Nile was the longest river in the world from stale textbooks while seated in stiff backed chairs, Danny Jackson was kneeling next to his father digging in the sand by the great river itself. While fourth graders were struggling to create crude shoe-box dioramas of a Maori tribe, Danny was living with them and playing games with the boys and girls of the tribe.
Major Carter was clearly upset. "You're telling us that Daniel, our Daniel, somehow figured out how to go back in time and screw everything up?"
"Hey, give the kid a break," said Jack. "It sounds like this Goa'uld really did a number on him."
"Sir, this is exactly the kind of thing I warned Daniel about when the Stargate accidentally sent us to 1969."
"Yeah, I know, the whole grandfather clock thing."
"Paradox."
"What?"
"It's the Grandfather Paradox."
"Right. Well, whatever it is is not as important as how we are going to get out of this mess." Jack turned his attention to Thor. "Ok, explain to me again who this Ta-Ta Goa'uld is?"
Thor sighed. "Ptah was a minor system lord. The Alliance had paid very little attention to him since he did not seem to be much of a threat. Somehow Ptah managed to unlock the secret of time travel. He realized that Dr. Jackson was a key element in getting the Stargate working on Earth. He knew if he could change Daniel Jackson's history then the Stargate on Earth would never become a reality. With the true secret of the Stargate hidden, at the appropriate time Ptah would activate the gate and use it to launch a ground attack on Earth. Once Earth was conquered he would use the planet to launch attacks on other worlds."
Suddenly the room was shaken by a violent concussion that left O'Neill and Carter slightly off-balanced.
"OK, what was that?" Jack asked as he regained his footing.
"Dr. Jackson's actions have had more far-reaching repercussions than you might have imagined. Because the Stargate program was never successfully initiated on Earth, the System Lords that you had defeated are still in power. Apophis is currently launching an attack against the Asgard."
Sam shot Jack a look. He countered before she had a chance to voice her disapproval of Daniel once again. "Carter, don't say anything."
"I believe that was one of Apophis' deathgliders," Thor continued, "most likely piloted by his First Prime, Teal'c."
"Teal'c? Great, beam the big guy up."
"I'm afraid Teal'c's symbiote would prevent the memory device from working"
`Well, speaking of beaming up, why don't you just beam up Daniel and tell him to fix this damn thing?" Jack asked.
"I'm afraid it is not that easy, Colonel O'Neill."
"Why not?" Jack asked. "It seemed easy enough with us."
"Dr. Jackson needs to be on Earth in order for the time device to work. As much as I would like to beam Dr. Jackson up here, I'm afraid the resources of this ship are already taxed to their limit."
Thor walked over to the platform and picked up the other disk. He then placed the palm of his hand over the wall. A small shelf slid out. On it was piece of paper and a device identical to the one Professor Lloyd/Ptah had given Daniel. Thor gathered up the objects and handed them to O'Neill.
"Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter. You will need to find Dr. Jackson and convince him to go back in time again and put things right."
The snow was falling steadily now. Tendrils of snow spiraled and danced upon the growing snow drifts, swirling around like miniature hurricanes. Through the swish of the wiper blades, through the drifts of snow forming on the hood and threatening to cover the windshield every two seconds, Jack strained to find some discernable landmark, but outside was nothing but a world of white. White road. White fence. White sky. Flanked on either side of them were fields and fields of white, white snow. Jack surmised that even if they had made this drive in summer it wouldn't have been much different. Instead of fields and fields of white, white snow it would be fields and fields of green, green corn.
"Kansas? Kansas? What the heck was Daniel thinking? Carter, do you have any idea where we're at?"
Carter looked up from the map. "I haven't the foggiest idea where we are, sir. But Chip at the gas station did say the Jackson house was up the road a piece."
"Up the road a piece ... a piece? What kind of measurement is that? Why can't these people learn to speak good old American English? I swear if Daniel asks us to sit a spell, I'm going to clobber him!"
"There." Carter pointed off into the distance.
It was your garden variety farm house. Two-story, wood-framed. The house stood silently, alone in the world. A porch wrapped itself around the front of the house. It reminded Jack of Daniel. Tendrils of smoke from the chimney waved to them, inviting them into a place of warmth and tenderness and caring. Snowflakes frolicked and twinkled in the beam of a single lamp that shone upon the house. From the main road two parallel tracks, hinting at a driveway led to a rickety old barn off to the right and slightly behind the house. As they drove up the path, Jack noticed a family decorating a Christmas tree in the window.
"Are you sure we have the right house?" he asked.
"Well, if we don't, we can always ..." Sam stopped in mid-sentence and grabbed Jack's arm.
Jack followed Carter's gaze to the window. The father in the group had turned his head slightly towards them. There was no mistaking, it was Daniel. Jack watched as he lifted a young boy no more than 3 years of age up in his arms.
"So, now what?" Sam asked.
"Just follow my lead," he said, as they got out of the car.
The door was answered by a man who wore horned-rimmed glasses and had jet black hair that was starting to go grey at the temples. "May I help you?" he asked.
"Ah, yes. Umm ..." Jack stammered. "Me and the little lady had some car trouble and we were wondering if we could use your phone?" Carter shot Jack a look at the little lady comment.
"Sure, come in," the man said as he held the door open.
Carter and O'Neill walked into the front room. Daniel was still holding the child, who was placing an ornament - a Santa on a sleigh - on the tree. Two women, one older, one younger, were sitting by the fireplace, laughing and talking and looking at Christmas cards. Daniel looked over at the two strangers who were standing in the entranceway. He put the young boy down and walked over to them.
"Hello," he said with a smile. "I'm Daniel Jackson. This is my father, Melbourne," he said pointing to the man who had invited them in. "That's my mother, Claire, and my wife, Kathy." The two women smiled and waved to the visitors. "And this," Daniel said of the little boy who was now hiding behind his legs, "is my son, Charlie. Do you want to say hi, Charlie?"
Charlie peeked out from behind his father and said a bashful, "Hi."
Jack O'Neill's heart split in two when he heard the boy's name. His well thought out, spur of the moment plan vanished. He barely noticed as Sam continued with the introductions. "I'm Maj ... I'm Sam and this is ... umm ... Jack. We kind of lost our way."
"Had car trouble," Jack finally said.
"Yes," Carter continued, "we were wondering if we could use your phone."
"I'm afraid the storm has knocked out the phones and they won't be back up until morning," said Daniel as he lifted up Charlie who had remained close by his father the whole time. He placed a protective hand on his son's head has the boy buried his face in his father's shoulder. "but we can give you a nice warm meal and a place to sleep tonight. Then, in the morning we can see what we can do about your car."
On the drive up through the miles and miles of mind-numbing snow-covered country roads, Jack had come up with a list of 101 Ways To Kill A Would-Be Archeologist. He had entertained thoughts of wringing Daniel's neck and shouting, "What the hell were you thinking?", but those thoughts quickly dissipated when he saw Daniel interacting with his son. After that, thoughts of wringing his neck were replaced by thoughts of patting Daniel on the back and telling him "Good job Daniel, you finally found the happiness you've always wanted." Jack's biggest regret now was that once again Daniel would be losing everything he had gained.
Jack couldn't blame Daniel for all that had gone wrong in his present life. Sure, in his other life the Stargate had been his salvation, but what was going on in this present life was a result of his own choices. After Charlie's death he had slipped into a deep depression. He had even contemplated suicide. He was going to do it, had the gun in his hand and everything, but in a moment of ... Weakness? Clarity? ... he decided to dial the number of a crisis hotline he had seen in the back section of the newspaper. They "talked him down," hooked him up with a psychiatrist who pumped him full of anti-depressants, who then hooked him up with other parents who had suffered the loss of a child so he could talk about his "feelings". He had tried that for a short while, but then realized it was easier and tastier to numb the pain with alcohol, and group therapy was replaced by impromptu drinking sessions with the occasional Bubba encounter.
"Well, we don't want you to go to any trouble." Jack remarked.
"It's no trouble at all." Daniel said with a smile.
The serpent-headed Jaffa entered the throne room. The headgear opened to reveal an impressive, muscular black face bearing the gold emblem of the First Prime.
"My Lord, Apophis," he said bowing his head and placing his right fist to his heart. "We have just received word that Ptah is set to enter the Stargate to the Tauri homeworld. Our transport ship should be in position soon."
"Very good, Teal'c" replied the golden robed man. "Have you received much resistance from our attack on the Asgard?"
"I believe we are in control of the situation," Teal'c lied. Even with their limited resources, the Asgard were proving to be a formidable foe, but Teal'c had learned that any sign of failure, any sign of weakness was met with certain death from Apophis. Better to lie to this god, than to face certain death. This god, Teal'c thought, was no more a god than the dog who stole scraps from under the table.
There was a time when Teal'c believed that freedom from Goa'uld domination was attainable. It was his mentor, Bra'tac who had put those ideas in his head. However, when Apophis became aware of a planned uprising headed by Bra'tac, he chose to make an example of him to any other would-be Shol'vah. The message was quick and to the point. Bra'tac was beheaded in a public execution. A simple wave of the hand and the rebellion had been crushed. At that moment an overpowering hatred began coursing through Teal'c's blood. He hated Bra'tac for having failed. He hated Apophis for having killed Bra'tac, but most of all; he hated himself for the cowardly way he had acted. Teal'c had stood at Apophis's side and had done nothing to prevent Bra'tac's death.
Teal'c's fate had been sealed. He would deny himself the opportunity to seek freedom. Freedom had become an unattainable goal, because Teal'c considered himself unworthy of freedom.
The dinner was served with a healthy helping of lively conversation. Major Samantha Carter would have enjoyed both if it had not been for the bitterness that was growing in the pit of her stomach, a bitterness that was troubling her greatly. All the SG-1 members knew Daniel had suffered a great deal of loss in his life - his parents, his wife, even his standing in the archeological community, and they would all agree that if anyone deserved a shot at happiness, it was Daniel. However, Sam was finding herself jealous of the happiness Daniel now possessed. She found herself blaming him for all that was wrong in her present life. If she had been involved in the Stargate program she wouldn't have fallen down those stairs and ruined her life. If she had been in the Stargate program her father would still be alive. If she had been in the Stargate program then her life would've had meaning.
It might've been easier for Sam to justify her feelings, if this Daniel had been arrogant or rude or uncaring, but this man who had opened up his home to them and had provided a warm meal and a place to sleep was no different than the kind, caring and loving Daniel that she had come to know as a member of SG1. Carter couldn't tell which was worse, her jealousy and anger at Daniel or her anger at herself for feeling this way.
"Not hungry?" Kathy asked as she watched Sam pick around at her food.
"What? Oh, no. Sorry, just tired from traveling."
"So, where are you two headed?" asked Claire as she passed the potatoes to Kathy
Where were they headed? Good question. Here in this farm house was as far as they had gotten, what happens next, Sam had no idea, but she was in no mood to think fast.
"Umm, darling," she said, playing up the "little woman" role Jack had thrown at her. "Why don't you tell them where we're going?"
"What?" asked Jack looking up from his plate.
"Tell them where we're going."
Sam waited with as much anticipation to Jack's answer as everyone else. "Oh, umm ... Cheyenne," he finally said with a smile.
"Cheyenne?" said Daniel. "Do you have family there?"
"Yes, we're hoping to get there for a big family reunion. It's just that we've hit this snag."
"Well, hopefully we can help you fix your snag. I don't think there is anything more important than family." said Daniel as Charlie crawled into his lap.
Jack returned the smile and replied, "Me too."
"So Daniel, what is it that you do?" asked Sam.
"Daniel's a writer." said Kathy, beaming with pride.
"Science Fiction," said Daniel rather sheepishly.
Perhaps it was because she had two distinct life memories jockeying for position, but it finally dawned on Sam, she had read one of Daniel's books. "Oh my God, Daniel Jacksons" she said in a moment of revelation. "You wrote `Door To Heaven'."
"Yeah, that's me."
"You didn't want to follow in your parent's footsteps and become an archeologist like them?" she continued.
The conversation stopped. Had she made a faux pas?
"How did you know we were archeologists?" Claire finally asked.
Oops.
"Perhaps she read one of the articles that Daniel has framed on the mantle." replied Melbourne.
Sam glanced over at the mantle and for the first time noticed what amounted to a Daniel Jackson Family Museum. Pictures and mementos of varying shapes and sizes were all lovingly displayed. There was a framed newspaper article announcing the success of the Jackson Exhibit at the New York Museum of Art; several candid shots of a young Daniel of varying ages on digs with his parents; a wedding picture of Daniel, Kathy, his parents and her parents; Kathy, Daniel and Charlie at the beach; Claire planting a kiss on Daniel as he held his new born son; Daniel, Melbourne and Charlie at Charlie's first birthday. And many more. Artifacts of love. A pictorial representation of Daniel Jackson's life.
The pictures were not making it any easier on Sam. Her original plan of reading Daniel the riot act suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea. How could she tell Daniel to give all this all up? She was beginning to have second thoughts about this line of questioning, but now she had to complete it.
"Yes. So, why the career choice?"
"I don't think I would trade my life for anything. I spent my whole childhood on digs with my parents and I absolutely loved it. There was always something new to be discovered. It was exciting, but there was also a lot of down time. Lots of time spent on airplanes or driving to remote sites or waiting for the rain to stop or waiting as my parents dealt with some governmental red tape. It was during those times that I started to write these stories." Daniel smiled, somewhat embarrassedly. "Most of them were about aliens building the pyramids."
Jack coughed and turned to Daniel's father. "Ahem, yes. So ... Dr. Jackson."
"Please call me Mel."
"Ok, Mel. Are you and Claire planning on going on any digs soon?"
"Why, yes. Next week we're headed to a dig site in Turkey."
"And I really wish you two would reconsider," said Daniel. "There's been a lot of political unrest in that area lately. I just think it might be safer to wait a little longer."
Claire got up from her chair, went behind Daniel, put her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. "Oh, Danny, you worry about us too much. We'll be fine. Tell you what, why don't you entertain our new friends for awhile, while we take care of these dishes?"
"Ok," he said standing up, still holding on to Charlie, who was falling asleep, "but first I need to put this munchkin to bed."
The fleet of deathgliders flew silently passed Jupiter on its way to the Tau'ri homeworld.
After Charlie had been safely tucked into bed with a story and a kiss from his dad, Daniel found himself alone with Jack and Sam in the barn. Jack knew he had to get Daniel alone, away from any possible distractions, so he came up with a preposterous story of really, really liking barns, and asked if he could see what Daniel's looked like.
"Like I said, it's not much," said Daniel as he stood in the middle of the barn, his hands in his pockets.
"It's big," said Jack.
Daniel nodded his head.
"So," said Jack.
"So?" responded Daniel.
"So, you're a writer?"
Daniel nodded his head. "Science fiction. You read any of my books?"
Jack shook his head.
"That's okay." Daniel said with a shrug.
Daniel had never been good with small talk. Give him a few sheets of paper and a pencil and he could have two strangers talking eloquently for hours, but put him alone in a room with a couple of people and that eloquence ran for the nearest exit.
"So, Sam, did you like my book?" It was vain. He knew it. But he'd rather have them think he was vain than to let them feel uncomfortable with this awkward silence.
"Yes, I enjoyed it very much," she said. "Daniel, what would you do if I told you that the stories you've written for the most part are true?"
Daniel stopped. He hadn't figured these two for the kind of crackpots he often encountered as a science fiction writer. He spoke very slowly and distinctly. He had learned that this was the best approach with these types. "I'd tell you that there is a fine line between science fiction and science fact, but the line is there." Daniel smiled nervously and started to slowly back away towards door. "I think we should ... umm ... probably get back to the house now." Too late, the man, Jack, was now standing in front of the door.
"Wait, we're not trying to scare you," said Sam. "We know you. You know us. You're Dr. Daniel Jackson, I'm Major Samantha Carter and that's Colonel Jack O'Neill. We're members of a team called the SG-1 along with another guy named Teal'c. We travel through a device called a Stargate that sends us to planets in distant galaxies."
Daniel felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, his hands held up defensively. "Look, umm, I don't want any trouble, but I think it's time for you to go. If you want our money, fine, take it. You can have the Christmas presents if you want. You can even have my car. Just ... Just ... just don't do anything to my family."
"Oh, for crying out loud" Jack said. He took the memory device out of his pocket and pressed it into Daniel's hand. A jolt ran through Daniel's body that knocked him to his knees. Memories, new memories, not his - yes, his. A life, not his life - yes, his life -wove in and out of him until it became his own. His parents- a horrible death, Sha'are, Abydos, Rothman, Apophis, Goa'ulds, sarcophagus, Hathor. It was a life filled with pain and sorrow and loss.
He let the device fall from his hand. He was panting, on his hands and knees now. His voice shaking. "What was that?"
"That ... that ..." said Jack pointing to the devise on the floor, "is your life."
Daniel shook his head. "No, no," he said as he scooted away from Carter and O'Neill. "That's not my life."
Although he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had a loving family who cared for him waiting for him in the house, Daniel suddenly felt completely and utterly alone. He wrapped his arms around himself and stared with fear at the device which now lay on the floor. Jack knelt down beside him. "Come on, Daniel. This is me. Your old buddy, Jack O'Neill. You have to remember."
Daniel closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breathe. He looked at Carter and then Jack. "Jack? Sam? What have I done?"
"Listen, it's not your fault," said Jack. "There's this new Goa'uld, Toto."
"Ptah," corrected Carter.
"Yeah," continued Jack. "Anyways, this Goa'uld took your friend Professor Lloyd as a host and tricked you into using this thing." Jack held up the gold Mobius strip.
"I remember now," said Daniel as he stood up. "But, if you're asking me to go back and put things the way they were, I can't."
Daniel could see by the expressions on their faces that they were completely taken by surprise by his reaction.
"Daniel, you have to!" Carter exclaimed.
"I have to? I have to?" he asked incredulously. "Why do I have to give up this great life that I have? I have everything I've ever wanted. I have two great parents who are alive, a wife who's never heard of a Goa'uld, and a son, a son who makes me smile every day. Why, why should I give that up for a life that's given me nothing but pain?"
"Because if you don't, this," Jack made a sweeping gesture with his arm, "everything will be gone when you wake up in the morning. There won't be any Christmas presents to open. There won't be any more bedtime stories for Charlie. This guy used you. He knew how important you were to the discovery of the Stargate and he figured if he could get you out of the picture ..."
"God, Jack do you have any idea what you are asking of me?" Daniel's piercing blue eyes desperately pleaded with Jack. He wanted a reassuring hand on his shoulder and a `Don't worry Daniel, we'll find another way out of this mess. You can keep your family intact.' But all he got from Jack was a look of frustration.
"Listen, I know this has got to be one of the hardest things you've ever done in your life, but this guy is set to launch an attack through the Stargate tonight, and if you don't do something soon, this is all going to end. And it's going to end badly."
Daniel closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He wanted to open his eyes and find out that this whole mess had been one ugly nightmare. He wanted to be holding Kathy in his arms as they watched Charlie's eyes light up when he saw the presents under the tree. He wanted to see his mother smile and call him Danny. He wanted to hear his father laugh. But he knew that when he opened his eyes Sam and Jack would still be there. He also knew in his heart that Jack was right. He was the only one who could fix this.
"Ok," he said quietly, choking back the tears. "But, umm ... can I have a few minutes alone with my family, first?"
Daniel walked over to Sam who was standing by the door. He wasn't sure if she was going to let him go. "Sam, please?" he begged. She looked to Jack who nodded. Carter hesitated for a moment, and then opened the door.
Ptah watched with eager anticipation as the wormhole formed in the Chappa'ai. The taste of victory was sweet on his lips. Soon he would lay claim to the land of the Tau'ri and they would all bow before him as their god. Then, he would conquer many other worlds. He had received word that a fleet of Apophis' deathgliders were on their way to earth, but he also knew that Apophis continued his attack on the Asgard homeland as well. Apophis is a fool, thought Ptah, he wears himself too thin.
Daniel walked into his house. His parents and Kathy were wrapping the last of the Christmas presents. Melbourne let out a hearty laugh at a story Kathy was telling them about the first time Daniel had given Charlie a bath. Claire was the first one to notice Daniel standing in the doorway. "Danny," she said with a smile.
As soon as Kathy realized Daniel was standing there, she ran to him and gave him a smile, a hug and a kiss. "Oh, Daniel, this is going to be Charlie's best Christmas ever. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees all his presents."
Daniel tried to smile, but he must've been doing a lousy job of hiding his true feelings because Kathy's smile turned into a look of concern. She lightly stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked.
How could he tell the people he loved that he was about to do something that would snuff out their very existence? "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Umm, I think I'll check on Charlie and make sure he hasn't kicked his covers off."
"Where are our guests?" asked Claire.
"They're still in the barn," Daniel replied, bounding up the stairs.
Daniel walked into Charlie's room. The child was still tucked safely in bed. Daniel knelt down beside him and gentle brushed the light brown hair from his forehead. Charlie opened his eyes, and rubbed his sleepy blue eyes. "Hi, daddy," he whispered. "Is it Christmas?"
"No, not yet." Daniel's eyes filled with tears.
With his left cheek pressed against the pillow, Charlie reached out with his little hand and placed it on his father's.
"When is it going to be Christmas?" Charlie asked in a small raspy whisper.
"Soon. Just you close your eyes, and go to sleep and dream sweet dreams. Dream of presents and Christmas trees and candy canes. Dream of catching snowflakes on your tongue and making snowmen and snow angels. Dream of riding your first two-wheeler and your first kiss from a girl. Dream of growing old and a life filled with love and laughter and happiness and joy." Daniel gently kissed his son. "Good night, Charlie."
"Good night, daddy. I love you." said Charlie as he drifted off to sleep.
"I love you too," said Daniel as he gave his son one final kiss.
The mothership raced silently through the cosmos. His first prime, Teal'c, was at the controls. Apophis had just learned that Ptah was assembling his forces and had entered the Tau'ri home world through the Stargate.
When Daniel returned to the barn he said nothing. He tried not to look them in the eye. He didn't want to see their sympathetic eyes. He didn't want to know if they saw the pain and loss he felt. He knew if he didn't act quickly, if he hesitated, or said anything, he might change his mind.
Daniel simply put out his hand for the device Jack was holding and quickly put it on his wrist and started to move the scarab over the glyphs Jack had given him. As the scarab moved over the last glyph he finally looked up at them. They had tears in their eyes.
"I'm sorry Daniel," said Sam.
Once again, Daniel found himself in the New York Museum of Art. He ran his finger over a display case and smiled. "Charlie would love ..." Daniel's smile faded.
He found the exhibit hall that was to house his parents' display and noticed a man dressed in workman's overalls looking through a toolbox. It took Daniel a few seconds to realize he was watching himself about ready to hack through the link.
"Wait," yelled Daniel.
A startled Daniel holding the hacksaw looked up. "Oh, oh. This can't be good," he said as he saw himself standing in the doorway. It was an odd sensation to say the least. It wasn't like watching yourself in a home movie. It was more like being an active participant in an Escher print.
Daniel in the doorway shyly raised his hand. "Hi, I'm Daniel Jackson."
"Yeah, me too," the original Daniel replied with a puzzled look on his face. "Umm, there aren't any exhibits here with mirrors in them, are there?"
The other Daniel shook his head. "No, no mirrors," he replied. He pointed to the devise on the other one's wrist. "It works, you know. You do change history and you have a wonderful life."
"I do?" Daniel asked. "Mom and Dad?"
"They love each other, and you, very much." The other Daniel wondered if it was fair to let this Daniel know what his life would've been like when he would never have a chance to experience it. But, Daniel knew himself, and he knew he needed to do this. "You have a son," he continued.
"A son?" Daniel smiled
"And a wife who loves you very much," the other one continued. "She's a lot like Sha're."
"Sha're? Then you know about my life?"
The first Daniel nodded his head. "I have all your memories."
"You do? Then, can I ...?" The other one shook his head.
"But, I don't understand. If I have such a wonderful life, then why are you here?" He did not wait for an answer. "You've come to warn me. To ask me not to do this. But why?"
"Because it's a trick," the other Daniel replied. "That was not Professor Lloyd you were talking to in his apartment. It was a minor system Lord named Ptah."
"An Egyptian god of creation and rebirth," the original Daniel remarked.
"I knew that," the other one said, rather surprised at his own knowledge. "Anyway, Ptah knew your research was important to the discovery of the Stargate, so once he learned the secret of time travel, he made that device and tricked you into using it and changing your own history."
"So, my parents need to die?"
The other one nodded. "Look, I can't make the decision for you. This is something that you have to do on your own, but you have to make a decision very soon."
"I just wish I could experience some of your life," Daniel said.
"I wish I could help you."
Daniel looked at the hacksaw he held in his right hand and the chain in his left. He quietly placed the saw in the tool box and dropped the chain back onto the pile. When he looked back up, he saw that he was alone.
Daniel could've left at anytime. He had the coordinates to get back to his real time. Besides, he knew exactly what was going to happen. The scene had played out over and over again in his mind since he was a child.
First the sound of the chain creaking and moaning as it lifts a weight that would prove to be too much. Then,
"It's swinging," Claire remarks.
"It's okay, it's fine, we'll be fine. Careful. A bit more level, Jake. Okay, Jake, lets bring it dow..."
Suddenly, the chain holding the coverstone snaps and it crashes down on them.
Daniel was surprised at how quickly it actually happened. In his nightmares and memories it seemed to last forever, but it was really his pain that would last forever. When he couldn't bear to watch any more, he turned away. That was when he saw him, a small boy crouched in a corner hugging his knees very tightly to his chest, trying very hard not to cry. Daniel watched as all the workers and emergency personnel scurried around, completely unaware of the young boy.
This isn't right, Daniel thought. I remember someone trying to comfort me. It was a workman. He was wearing blue overalls, and ... Daniel suddenly realized what was supposed to happen. He walked over to the child Daniel, sat down beside him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Danny, I know how hurt and afraid and alone you are feeling right now. And I wish I could tell you that you will never feel pain like this in your life again, but I can't. I can promise you this, though; you will have some of the most amazing adventures you could ever imagine. You will know joy, you will know love. You will know family and friendship, but right now," Daniel looked deeply into Danny's eyes. "Right now, it's okay to cry." With that the child laid his head in Daniel's lap and began to sob. Daniel gently stroked his hair as he shared in his pain and loneliness.
General Hammond's home was a symphony of red and green on Christmas. Bing Crosby sang White Christmas over the stereo. The smell of cinnamon and evergreen mingled together. Members of the SG teams laughed and smiled and exchanged small gifts.
"Colonel O'Neill," the general called out. "I haven't seen Dr. Jackson yet. Is he coming?"
"Daniel had some place to go, sir."
Daniel stood in front of the abandoned farm house looking at the crude map Jack had drawn for him. Jack had been rather cryptic, but had said there was a Christmas present for him inside. The place was old and dusty. The floor boards creaked as he entered. He noticed a small triangular shaped crystalline disk sitting in the middle of the floor. He picked it up and suddenly his whole being, down to the deepest part of his soul was flooded with wonderful memories. Memories of this house. This house filled with love and laughter and life. He saw himself and Kathy marveling at Charlie's first step. He walked into the kitchen and smelled and tasted the food they had eaten as they all sat around the kitchen table. He felt an overwhelming sense of love and admiration for his father as he and his dad drank countless cups of coffee during endless conversations into the wee hours of the night. He felt himself beam with pride as he saw the joy on his mother's face as she sat in a rocking chair by the fireplace and held her first and only grandchild. He felt laughter as Kathy told one of her jokes. He felt her arms wrap tightly around his waist and felt her warm kisses on his lips.
He made his way up into Charlie's room. He stood with his back against the wall where Charlie's bed had been and slowly sank down. He remembered bedtime stories, and "no, Charlie, there are no monsters under your bed. Yes, I checked." He remembered good night kisses and "I love you daddy."
"I love you too," said Daniel quietly as he closed his eyes.
These were not meant to be permanent memories and they began to fade until Daniel was left with nothing but a small handprint on his soul. A feeling of something wonderful.
Finis
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