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Daniel Jackson Drabbles & Micro Fiction

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This isn’t home. At least that’s what they tell me. Jack says we’re friends, but from the look in his eyes, the body language, the obvious if-I-actually-touch-him-he-might-break hesitancy tells me it’s something more. That I'm more important to him than just friendship. I don’t feel gay, and Jack being a Colonel leads me to think he’s not either. So what is it?

I fumble with the glasses Sam gave me. I don’t really know what to do with them. She seemed so proud when she gave them to me. Like giving me—apparently—my glasses would somehow make “Daniel” come back.

Sam casts me these long looks, her eyes wide and imploring. Is there some sort of more-than-friends relationship here? She feels familiar—safe—but how can I be sure? I woke up alone and naked. Do I really know these people? I sure as hell don’t know the man they say I am.

I wrinkle my nose and slip the glasses on. They feel heavy.

Teal’c is hard to read—quiet and unexpressive. Or rather very expressive, but you have to know how to read him. How do I know that? How do I know that he’s glad to see me even though he hasn’t said anything—has hardly looked at me—but I can tell he’s relieved. Even that he missed me. He and I aren’t—?

Why is it that I assume that everyone is in love with me?


Jack startles me. He keeps doing that. He appears behind me and I don’t know if I didn’t hear him because I’m lost in my thoughts or because he’s just that good.


“Yes, Jack?” I cross my arms over my chest. It’s natural and feels like something familiar. Is this my usual stance with him?

He smirks. I take that to mean I’m acting like Daniel.

“We’re ready to go. If you—are.” Jack gestures up and down my body, palms upwards. He rests them back on his gun again. The gun is obviously a natural extension of his body. His stance seems as familiar to me as my own and I can’t help but think we’ve had this conversation before.

“I—” I don’t know what to say—‘No,’ ‘I’ll think about it,’ ‘Okay, I’ll follow you—wherever’?

He takes a step closer and for a brief second I see all the uncertainty leave his eyes. This is Jack. The confidence mingled with concern. This is Jack. I know it deep in my being. Even if I don’t remember him—I know him—I want to know him again.

I want to be Daniel.

That’s what I see in these people. I see Daniel. I see what I was—what I will be—what I am. I see my love for them reflected back to me. I see family.

“Okay.” I uncross my arms and step forward. “Let’s go.”

“You’re sure?” Jack lets the gun dangle from the strap over his shoulder. I think he expected more of a fight.

“Yeah.” I hesitantly place my hand on his shoulder. “Jack. I’m ready to go home.”