Spoilers: Season Six's Full Circle
Summary: When you're on the brink, how can you move forward, when the past won't let go?
Disclaimer: Stargate, Stargate SG-1 and all of its characters, titles, names, and back-story are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, SciFi Channel, and Showtime/Viacom. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be printed anywhere without the sole permission of the author. Realize this is for entertainment purposes only; no financial gain or profit has been gained from this fiction. This story is not meant to be an infringement on the rights of the above-mentioned establishments
Time was meaningless. His existence no longer mattered.
As he stood there, just a speck between dimensions, lost amongst the vastness of eternity, he felt it burn, that something, that spark.
That spark twitched as it always had in that other place, a lifetime ago. Just as before, it threatened to grow, to burst forth and consume.
The passion. The fire.
It compelled him and made him remember.
Though, he knew that he had never forgotten. No, he could never forget. So he allowed it to breathe, guardedly, like cooling embers, and buried it, hid it, waiting, watching…
But the time had come where he could no longer stand by and watch the events unfold in the patterns upon patterns before him. The inactivity only fed the burning, the inferno. It summoned him, the flame pumping throughout his form like liquid fire. It unlocked the depths of his heart and soul, bringing forth the essence of what once held his humanity; it contained that final link to what he was and could have been. And it called to him.
Now was the time to act.
"Stop!" he exclaimed, bringing his form into being. He strode across the floor, his image in tact and focused even as the Jaffa fired his weapon.
The shot passed through him, leaving his form untouched.
Anubis, with all his negativity and putrid deformities of time and space gone wrong, laughed at him, laughter without sound, mirth, or color. Just darkness, coolness.
"Stop me if you can," he taunted.
His words meant nothing to him. He had already made his decision the moment Anubis made his. Intertwined, they hovered above and beyond the mere hum of this earthly existence. But the divide between them was enough to carve their differences into something palpable and real.
The difference between fire and ice, love and hate.
Focusing, he willed his being, the very core of himself into an internal funnel and allowed for his energy to rupture. The fire spread quickly, devouring him whole. With his guided will, he directed his fire into concentrated form, shaping it into the power of light and passion, spinning them in glowing orbs at his form's envisioned fingertips.
Anubis countered his passion with his cold empty façade. "Strike me down. Do it now or I will destroy Abydos."
He would not let it happen. Not in this time. Not in this place.
He channeled his energy, keeping his form unbroken, and filled himself with his passion, his life force, and even his anger. He glared at the rippling robes, the walking prison of Anubis, and willed himself to strike.
This was for them. For all their pain, their heartache, and their suffering.
This was for their health, their well-being, and their life.
For the people of Abydos, his people, those he had sworn to protect.
For the SGC. General Hammond. Doctor Fraiser.
For his former teammates and friends, and for all those he had left behind.
Those for whom he had shed his mortal coil.
This was for Jonas, Teal'c, Sam, and Jack.
This was for Skaara and Kasuf.
This was for her. Her memory.
This was for Sha're.
Rattling his very form, he lashed out, releasing his fire, his light, his energy, his very essence. Through the infinite possibilities and the cataclysmic sadness, on the brink of the threshold, he brought himself outward and burst forward, against the blackness.
His energy, himself, sailed forward, locking onto their mark. Aglow with the fire of his compassionate soul, it centered on Anubis.
Only to halt and press against an unseen wall of tension.
He gasped, feeling the resistance both within him and pressing onto him, pushing him back, pulling…
Tearing. He felt the tearing, the splinter as if he were ripped in two.
"No!" he cried, feeling the split intensify, his energy shattering. His voice, hollow and desperate, echoed throughout the vessel, floating until it fell silent. "Don't do this!"
In that second of power, at the time of fracturing, he was sure he heard Them, felt Them, crowding around him, ready to strike.
He felt Oma.
Then he was ripped, torn from his form, his essence obliterated.
And then he awoke.
Daniel panted hard, gripping his sheets tightly as he stared into the darkness that engulfed his room. Over the next few minutes, he struggled to regain his composure and to calm his heart that was thumping uncontrollably against his chest.
He felt battered, beaten, and worn.
Worst of all, he felt as if the shreds and fragments of a memory were at his fingertips, fading away as quickly as the morning light. There was something there, something he was supposed to remember. He was sure of it. These lost memories were windows to his past, embedded in dreams that refused to stay with him.
The dreams and nightmares continued to haunt him, even months now, after he had been found on Vis Uban. He'd struggled to regain his memories, and had succeeded in reclaiming most of the man he used to be.
But he couldn't help but feel he was missing something. No, he knew that there was something important that was lurking out there, somewhere.
Would he ever be able to claim it? Would he ever be whole again?
Part of him didn't want to fill the gaps in his memory, or to remember what brought him to the end. The other part, the part that needed to know, urged him to keep trying and never give up.
Daniel never asked for this. Sinking back down into the sheets, he covered himself, wrapping himself in a cocoon of his own making.
He would slip into sleep soon, and once again would be plagued by the nightmares that he could not remember. He shook at the thought, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing he had no choice but to face them again.
And as he drifted, tumbling down into the burrows of his subconscious, he thought her heard her soft compassionate words.
"Rest now. Your time will come."