My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.

"Sir Galahad"
Lord Alfred Tennyson 

Story Notes

            Type: drama, AU ending to The Shroud

            Rating: PG

            Warnings: language

            Spoilers: Season 10, references The Quest Part 2, Fallen/Homecoming, Memento Mori

            Length: about 9000 words

            Author’s Note: originally written for iiiionly in celebration of friendship and Christmas

The Worthiest Knight

The Chronicles of Galahad #1

Part I

Strength of Ten

The infirmary was mostly empty.  Jack, sitting on a butt that had gone numb.  Sergeant Matt Wetherly, the night nurse, browsing through a magazine at his duty station.  Carolyn, settled out of sight in her office.  And Daniel in the only occupied bed, unconscious now for—Jack checked his watch—going on day three.  He’d collapsed into a coma on the Ori ship and still hadn’t woken.  After the Odyssey returned them all to the SGC, Jack had finally kicked everyone else out of the infirmary, ending their two-day vigil at Daniel’s bedside.  All Jack had done during the last mission was give an order.  And worry.  He knew the others were worried as well, but he didn’t want them headed on a mission without their sleep.  It was a sure bet that Hank would have to send SG-1 out soon, even without Daniel.  There were Ori followers to contend with, after all.

Jack wished he knew what they were going to do now.  With seven warships at large, bent on converting the galaxy, things weren’t looking so good.  Either the Priors didn’t get the message that their gods were dead, or else they were mighty pissed off that SG-1 had tried to kill their gods in the first place.  He wished they knew for sure whether Merlin’s Ancient device had worked or not.  Mostly, though, he just wished Daniel would wake up.

Daniel had assured them that his genetic alterations were on a time limit, and his body had gone through the promised makeover on schedule, shedding the ghastly Prior look and presumably, the Prior powers.  But Daniel had also insisted that his mind would revert to its pre-Merlin state.  Instead, an EEG revealed two distinct patterns still existing in Daniel’s brain.  It didn’t look as if he had lost his Ancient stowaway.

After experiencing the Ancient download twice, Jack could still remember the way it felt to have his mind slowly rewritten.  He’d had thoughts that made no sense and compulsions he couldn’t control.  It was a slow spiral out of control, and his loss of speech, the inability to remember words, had only made it more frightening. 

It seemed to be different for Daniel.  He and Merlin appeared to co-exist, sharing Daniel’s body, agreeing on the course of action that would hopefully save them all in the long run.  Daniel had admitted that the partnership wouldn’t last.  Either Merlin’s stronger consciousness would overpower his own, or his brain would shut down, unable to handle the influx of knowledge that came with a second consciousness.

Daniel had sounded so breathless, so tired when he asked—pleaded—for Jack to give that one order.  According to Carter, Daniel had knocked out Adria and sagged into the command chair with barely enough strength to lift his head.  By the time SG-1 returned to the bridge, he was unconscious.  What had it cost him to hold on as long as he had?

On the bed, Daniel stirred.  Jack leaned forward.

“Daniel?”

Daniel’s brow furrowed.  His eyelids fluttered.  After another minute of twitching, he gave a small moan and opened his eyes.

Jack’s entire body sagged with relief.  He reached out and tousled Daniel’s hair.  “Hey, sleepyhead!  What took you so long?”

Daniel blinked at him, looking disorientated.

“You’re in the infirmary,” Jack offered.  He knew that just-woke-up-where-am-I feeling.

The confusion didn’t clear.  If anything, it deepened.

“Arthur?  Is that you?” Daniel said, except Jack was pretty sure it wasn’t Daniel.

“It’s Jack.  And I’m thinking you’re Merlin.”

“Ah.”  Merlin looked inward and sighed.  “I was afraid of this.”

“Afraid of what?” Jack asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.  He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Daniel resisted the transformation until he had completed our plan.”  Merlin shook his head sadly.  “Stubborn boy.”

“Yeah, that’s our Daniel.”  Jack glanced toward the duty station and saw Wetherly dozing, his head cradled on folded arms.  Since Daniel awake and talking hadn’t brought Carolyn running either, he suspected Merlin might have put them both to sleep.  Jack tried to ignore the shiver of apprehension that crept up his spine.  “How about letting Daniel out to play?”

“He sacrificed himself for our plan to work.” 

Jack felt dizzy.  Cold and hot all at once.  “He’s…dead?”

“Not quite.”

Jack sucked in a much-needed breath.  “Crap.  Don’t scare me like that.”

Merlin gazed at him through Daniel’s eyes, an expression of infinite tenderness, the way Daniel would look at him sometimes whenever a memory of Charlie caught him unawares.  “You do not understand.  Because he delayed the transformation, my consciousness did not fade at the set time.  Instead, parts of it have fused with his own.  If I remain, he will die.  His brain cannot hold us both.”

“Then leave,” Jack said harshly.

Merlin sighed again and closed his eyes.  “Always wanting your own way, Arthur.  When will you learn that the world does not spin at your command?”

“It’s Jack,” he ground out.

There was a long pause, and then Merlin said in a soft, pained voice, “Jack.  Yes, of course.  Forgive me.  Too many memories.”

“Daniel said you promised to leave.”

“I tried.  Truly, I tried.  He would not let me go, not until the weapon was on its way.”

Jack could just imagine how that tug-of-war had played out, Merlin trying to leave and Daniel holding on.  No wonder Merlin was still here.  Daniel had the tenacity of a pit bull.  It was something the Goa’uld had never understood.  Thinking Daniel was the weak link on the team because he lacked the military experience that the rest of them had, the Goa’uld would try to break him.  They didn’t realize that strength came in many different forms.  Daniel’s strength was intertwined with his integrity, and the combination of the two was damn near indestructible.  Of course, the fact that Daniel was stubborn as hell didn’t hurt either.   If he thought it was necessary, he could hold on until his fingers were broken and useless, and even then, Jack would bet good odds that Daniel would figure out a way to use his teeth.

Merlin opened his eyes and turned his head to look directly at Jack.  He looked weary beyond imagining, the same deep-set fatigue that had haunted Daniel’s features for the first week after Sha’re’s death.  “If I leave now, I will tear from Daniel everything that has merged with my consciousness.”

Jack swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to his suddenly dry mouth.  “What—what does that mean, exactly?”

With another inward look, Merlin said, “Memories.  Experiences.  Learning.  He will be…as a child.  Pure of heart and mind.”  Merlin blinked and re-focused his gaze on Jack.  “I am truly sorry.”

“So, either he’s dead or he forgets everything?  Is that it?”

Merlin didn’t answer, but the confirmation was in his eyes.  In Daniel’s eyes.

“Let me talk to him.”

Merlin hesitated.  “He is…very tired.”

“I can’t make this decision by myself.”

Merlin winced at something only he could hear.  “He says the decision is already made.”

“He wants you to stay, right?  He’s just going to wait until his brain explodes and…  Dammit, let me talk to him!”

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, and Jack put every ounce of authority into his expression.  There was no way in Netu that Daniel was just going to slip away from him without even talking about it.  Merlin gave the tiniest of nods and closed his eyes.

Then Daniel was there.  Jack wasn’t sure how he knew.  A hunching of the shoulders, the pinched look that usually accompanied a headache, the hardening of his chin as if he knew he and Jack were about to argue.  Hell, yes, they were arguing about this.

“Daniel,” he said in a tone that meant Daniel damn well better open his eyes.

Daniel didn’t bother to obey.  His eyes stayed closed, and he turned his head away.  “Let me go, Jack.”

“I’ve done that before.  It’s never stuck.”  Thank God, Jack thought.

“This one seems pretty permanent.”

“Not if Merlin leaves.”

“And then what?”  Daniel’s eyes snapped open, flaring with sparks of anger as he looked at Jack.  “Locked up in a white room?  Been there, done that.  No, thanks.”

“No white room.  Word of honor.”  He leaned closer and placed a hand on Daniel’s arm.  “You know you wouldn’t be alone in this, don’t you?  I’d take care of you.”

Daniel snorted.  “A mentally incapacitated adult?  You already have a job.”

“I’ll retire.”

Daniel stared at him as if he were nuts.  “You just don’t get it, do you?  I’m not going to remember anything.  My brain is the most important thing I have.  If I lose it…”  He shook his head.  “I don’t want to live like that.”

“You’re losing some memories, not your brain.  You can relearn stuff.  I’ll help.  Maybe we can teach you to appreciate the Simpsons this time around.”

“Dammit, Jack, this isn’t a joke.”

“Do you see me laughing?”

Daniel’s breath hissed through clenched teeth.

“I hate to break it to you, Dannyboy, but your brain is not that important.”

Daniel lifted an eyebrow, conveying a haughty skepticism.

Jack tightened his fingers over Daniel’s arm and made sure he had Daniel’s full attention before he continued.  “All that matters is your life.  That’s it.  I don’t care if you never translate another word as long as you’re still here.”

“Jack, I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but we both know--”

Jack tuned him out.  God, would the man never stop arguing?  Why couldn’t he understand?  It was like reliving every nightmare from the last ten years.  Nem’s planet.  Apophis’s ship.  A burst appendix.  Radiation poisoning.  Kidnapped by an Unas, by crazy South American rebels, by Replicators, even by Oma.  Jack could hardly breathe, remembering them all.

Daniel was looking at him expectantly, as if the reasonable argument he had just made that Jack hadn’t heard should have been sufficient.  It wasn’t.  Nothing was going to convince him that losing Daniel again was going to be worth it.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought you were dead?  I can’t…”  Jack choked on an unexpected lump in his throat.  “Don’t make me do that again.  Not when there’s a choice.”

Daniel’s expression, which had softened at Jack’s mini-breakdown, shifted into bleakness.  “Not much of a choice, Jack.”

“You’re right.  Dead or alive.  Pretty easy one to figure out.”  Jack hoped Daniel could see the fierce determination in his own expression.  “And who knows?  Maybe when we defeat the Ori, you’ll get caught up in some ascended backwash that puts everything back the way it was.”

“Or not.”

“Or not,” Jack conceded, because when had things ever been that simple for them?  “But that’s my point.  I don’t know what could happen.  Neither do you.  You give up, toss it all in right here and now, we’ll never know, will we?”

After studying him for a moment, Daniel sighed and closed his eyes.  He was so pale, almost as if the Prior-ness had returned to turn his skin into ash.  And there was a hitch to his breathing that Jack recognized with trepidation.  He knew death well enough to hear it when it was approaching.  Jack moved his hand downward to check Daniel’s pulse.  It was there.  Barely.

“Daniel?”

Daniel’s eyelids twitched.  His lips moved, and Jack saw, more than heard, the faint answer, “Still here.”

Jack took Daniel’s hand, squeezed it, and gave one quiet order, “Then stay here.”

“Jack…” Daniel’s voice lifted in a whine, and Jack could hear him pleading silently, Let me go.

“No, Daniel,” he said, his own voice firm and unyielding.  “No.”

Daniel heaved another sigh and muttered, “I hope you won’t regret this.”

“Never,” he whispered back.  The uneven breathing continued, and Jack decided he wasn’t above begging.  “Please, Daniel?”

A moment later, Merlin opened the eyes of his best friend and gazed at him, looking exhausted but content.  “Galahad has always been the worthiest of the knights.  Always so strong, so valiant, even at the cost of his own life.  Thank you for saving him.”

“You leaving?”

“Yes.  But I think I can give you something to ease Daniel’s concerns.”  Merlin smiled gently, his eyelids drifting shut once more.  “Farewell, Arthur.”

Merlin exhaled, and for a second, Daniel’s body was utterly still.  Jack caught his own breath, waiting for Daniel to breathe again.  Then Daniel began to glow, transformed into a brilliant white light that pierced Jack’s eyelids even when he automatically closed them.  Jack’s heart screamed in denial, Not that, not again.  Damn you, Merlin, not that.  When the light faded, he was afraid to open his eyes, afraid to see that Daniel was gone.

A shuddering inhale from the bed made his eyes fly open.  He blinked hard, trying to clear the afterimage, and realized that he was still holding Daniel’s hand, had been holding Daniel’s hand the entire time.

Daniel’s hand was smaller.

As the spots of light faded from his vision, Jack saw that everything about Daniel was smaller.  That a little boy, maybe three years old, lay on the bed in Daniel’s place.  And Jack understood.

He will be...as a child.  Pure of heart and mind.

Merlin had given Daniel the body to match that purity.

The boy’s eyes fluttered open, and Jack’s stomach lurched.  He wasn’t sure what he expected.  Charlie?  Merlin?  A stranger?  But when the blue gaze focused on him, what he saw was a child-sized version of the Daniel they had found at Vis Uban.  Bewildered, vulnerable, lost.  There was no recognition in his eyes, but it was undoubtedly Daniel.

“Hey, Daniel.”  He kept his voice soft.  Moving with deliberate slowness, he reached out with his free hand and brushed the bangs away from Daniel’s worry-creased forehead.  “How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts.”  Daniel’s voice was tiny and scared, and all of Jack’s long-buried parenting experience rose up to soothe the kid.

“I bet it does.  It’s all right.  You were…in an accident, so you might not remember some things.  That’s okay too.  You’re gonna be fine.”

Daniel searched Jack’s face as if looking for something familiar.  “Is you my daddy?”

Jack cupped the small cheek of his best friend.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I am.”

Part 2

Pure of Heart

A moment later, he heard the clip of Carolyn’s heels as she hurried out of the office.  She was muttering to herself, “Falling asleep on the job.  My God, Carolyn, what is your problem?”  Then, as she came closer, she spoke louder, “General, is he awake?  I thought I heard—Oh.  My.  God.”

She stopped abruptly.

Though his hand tightened around Jack’s, Daniel smiled at the newcomer, ready to make friends as usual.  “Hi.  Me Daniel.  Who you?”

Carolyn’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“This is Dr. Lam,” Jack said.  “She’s gonna have lots of tests for you because you were hurt, but I’ll be here the whole time.”

Daniel nodded, and his grip on Jack’s hand relaxed.  Daniel’s courage had always astounded Jack.  He remembered how the man had trusted SG-1 on Vis Uban, how he’d had been brave enough to follow them home on the basis of some hazy memories and their assurances that they knew him.

After a few false starts, Carolyn found her voice.  “General, could I have…a moment…alone?”

She squeaked the last word, and Jack shook his head ruefully.  Even though he had recommended Carolyn for the SGC posting, he still wished for Janet sometimes.  Daniel could have shown up with green skin and purple spots, and their former doctor wouldn’t have blinked.

“Sure, Doc.”  He turned back to Daniel.  “We’ll be right over there, okay?”

Daniel released his hand reluctantly, but he didn’t protest when Jack stood and walked a few feet away with Carolyn.  As he quietly explained what had happened, Jack kept one eye on Daniel.  The kid had sat up and was looking around, interested in his surroundings.  Nervous but not overwhelmed with panic, he peeked occasionally in Jack’s direction and then continued his visual exploration of the infirmary.

Carolyn began to rant, explaining the impossibility of Daniel’s situation despite the evidence of her own eyes.  Give her a few more years, Jack decided.  After that, the alien stuff would be normal.  While Carolyn was still in mid-rant, Vala strolled into the infirmary, stopping as abruptly at the sight of Daniel as Carolyn had.

“Where’s Daniel?” she demanded, hands on hips.

Daniel gave her a big smile.  “Me Daniel!”

Vala scowled and looked as if she might throw a tantrum and stomp her foot.  “Where’s my Daniel?”

Daniel’s eyes widened, and he twisted on the bed to survey the rest of the infirmary.  “More Daniels?  Where?”

“That’s what I want to know!  Where did you come from?”

Daniel shrugged.  As Jack stepped closer to intervene, Daniel caught sight of him, flashed another smile, and pointed.  “Me him Daniel.  Dat my daddy.”

Jack faltered, off-balanced by the sense of pride that surged through him at Daniel’s confident statement.  The pride wilted as Vala spun to face him.  Her eyes were narrowed.

“What did you do?!”  The venom in her tone scorched him.  “He’s…little.”

“He’s alive.”

“You…you selfish son of a bitch.”

He recoiled involuntarily, as if she had slapped him.  He wasn’t sure whether the words and her fury stunned him more.

“You decided this, didn’t you?  You made him feel guilty, and he gave in to what you wanted.  Because this—” she waved a hand toward Daniel, “you think he wanted this?!   You destroyed everything he was.”

“It saved his life.”

“He would’ve preferred to die,” she snapped back.

“Daddy?”  Daniel’s voice trembled, and he lifted his arms in a silent plea to be picked up.  Responding without thought, Jack strode to the bedside and scooped the kid into his arms.  Daniel wrapped around him like an octopus and buried his face against Jack’s neck.

Tears brightened Vala’s eyes and slid down her anger-reddened cheeks.  “You call this a life?  This is a farce you created because you couldn’t let him die with dignity.”

Her hair billowed out like a royal robe as she whirled and stalked from the room.  The moment she’d stepped past the infirmary threshold, he heard the muffled sobs and then the pad of her footsteps as she fled.

Carolyn stepped closer and touched his arm.  “General, are you all right?”

He nodded and then shook his head, immediately negating his automatic response.  He stood there, staring at the empty doorway, with Vala’s condemnation ringing in his ears and Daniel’s little arms clutching his neck, and he didn’t know what he should be feeling.  Should he be crying like Vala because Daniel was gone?  Should he be happy because some part of Daniel remained?  Should he be disgusted with himself because Vala was right, he’d begged Daniel to make a choice he wouldn’t have made otherwise?  The emotions skipped through Jack, fleeting wisps that brushed his heart but didn’t stay.  He couldn’t feel anything at all.  It was a surprise when Daniel’s tiny finger traced a wet path down his cheek.

“Why you crying, Daddy?” Daniel whispered.  “Cuz of dat mean lady?  Why dat lady mean, Daddy?”

Carolyn steered Jack toward a chair, looking at Daniel as she answered, “I think everyone’s a little shell-shocked right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you were hurt and they were scared.”

Daniel beamed.  “Me gooder now.  See, Daddy?  All gooder.”

Jack bit back the urge to laugh hysterically.  He dropped into the chair Carolyn had urged him toward and rested his forehead on Daniel’s small shoulder.  Daniel’s arms moved upward, encircling Jack’s head.

“All gooder, Daddy,” Daniel crooned as he hugged Jack’s head and petted his hair and planted sloppy wet kisses on his ear and neck.  “All gooder.”

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, trembling as if he’d barely made it through the Gate ahead of horde of Jaffa.  Finally, Carolyn’s murmured “Uncle Jack?” penetrated the fog in his mind.  Even though Jack had known Carolyn since she was ten, formality was her unwritten rule, and she never called him anything other than “General” when they were on base.

He dragged in a heavy breath, untangled himself from Daniel’s roving arms, and lifted his head.  “I’m okay.  I’m fine.  Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Carolyn said, rising from her crouch in front of him.  “I’d be more worried about you if you hadn’t done that.”

“Daddy?  You gooder?”  Daniel peered at Jack’s face, practically touching their noses.

Jack took another steadying breath and turned his attention to Daniel.  “I’m good, squirt.  How about you?  Two ears?”

Looking alarmed, Daniel reached up to pat his ears.  He grinned at finding them in place and nodded hard.

“Ten fingers?”

Daniel examined his fingers, counting.  “Tree, one, four, tree, ten!  Ten, Daddy!”

“One tongue?”

Daniel stuck it out and wiggled it.  “Thee?  Thee it?”

“Yup.  Looks like you’re all in one piece.”  Suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that Daniel was alive and well, despite the odds, Jack pulled the kid close and hugged him.  Daniel returned the hug enthusiastically.  After a moment of mutual comfort, Jack loosened his hold.  “How’s your head?”

“All gooder,” Daniel announced, but his smile wavered on that one.

“Still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Daniel shrugged and gave a tiny nod.

“It’s okay.  I’m sure Doctor Lam can help out.”  Jack looked at Carolyn.  “I think we should keep Daniel isolated until you’ve had a chance to run some tests.”

“And you’ve had a chance to talk to the rest of SG-1?” Carolyn added wryly.

“Give me the hard job, why dontcha?”  He tried to smile, but it was hard to joke about something so completely true.  Going by Vala’s reaction, telling SG-1 would probably rank right up there with getting a root canal.

Carolyn patted his arm.  “Matt can watch the door.  We’ll get started in a few minutes.  I just need some stuff from my office.”

“Some stuff” turned out to be a collection of toys, the infirmary’s emergency stash for the occasional visit by alien kids.  Daniel played happily while Carolyn took blood, checked vitals, and basically rewrote the chart on one Daniel Jackson.  As Daniel attempted to tie a bow around a teddy bear’s neck, Carolyn looked up from her note-taking and watched with interest.  Apparently, the toys had an ulterior purpose, but if Carolyn was looking for something in particular, Jack couldn’t determine what it was.

 She was surprisingly patient throughout the tests.  Jack wondered if her usually brusque bedside manner had softened because she was dealing with Daniel, who had that effect on people, or because she was dealing with a child.  Daniel’s inability to answer most of her questions frustrated Jack and Daniel more than it appeared to frustrate Carolyn, and Jack was grateful for her matter-of-fact calm.

They ended with the MRI.  As Carolyn studied the monitors in the control booth, she remarked, “With any luck, he’ll fall asleep.”

Sitting beside her, Jack waited with one hand near the mike.  Carolyn had administered a light sedative, standard procedure for children who might panic at the claustrophobic isolation within the MRI machine, but he was ready to offer Daniel reassurances if they were needed.

“He’s only been awake a couple hours.”

“His body went through a dramatic change in a matter of minutes.  Even with Merlin’s help, the strain of that transformation is showing.  He needs the sleep.”  She peered at a readout, muttered something, and jotted a note on Daniel’s expanding chart.

“Any good news?” Jack prompted.

“Plenty.  All traces of Merlin’s consciousness are gone.  And despite the aforementioned strain, Daniel is perfectly healthy.  I suspect he’ll grow almost as normally as any other child his age.”

“Almost?!”

Carolyn adjusted a monitor and looked at Jack with a reassuring smile.  “It’s not a bad almost.”

Jack gave her the I’m-the-General-and-you’d-better-explain-yourself look.  Unfortunately, she’d lived through several I’m-your-pretend-uncle looks during her childhood, which lessened its intimidation factor.  She chuckled and gave the impression that she was humoring him as she settled into her explanation.

“Our memories are basically divided into three categories: episodic, semantic, and procedural.  His memories of major episodes and experiences are completely wiped.  His semantic memory, the facts and knowledge he’s accumulated in his lifetime—most of that is gone as well.  He’s only retained what an average three-year-old would be expected to know.  However, his procedural memory appears to be intact.”

“Procedural?”

“That’s your unconscious awareness of how to do things.  Walking, talking, drinking from a cup, tying your shoes.  Things you do without thinking about them.  Daniel didn’t have the motor coordination to tie the bow on his teddy bear, but he knew how it was supposed to be done.  The memory patterns are still in place.  You see the implications?”

“Um…  No.”

“First, it means certain memories will cause unconscious reactions.  Set him on the eighteenth floor, engage his concentration so he’s not focusing on where he’s going, and I’ll guarantee you that he automatically ends up at his office.  Second, he’s going to learn fast.  He may not remember any foreign languages, for example, but his brain knows how to connect sounds and how to organize that sort of information.  What it’s done before, it will remember how to do again.”

“So you’re saying Daniel is a perfectly normal kid with a freaky intelligence, and it’s the intelligence I’m gonna have problems with?”

Carolyn considered his interpretation and nodded.

Jack snorted.  “Trust me, the intelligence part?  Piece of cake.  I’ve been dealing with it for years.  It’s the ‘perfectly normal kid’ thing that’s going to throw me for a loop for the first couple of years.”

Years.  Oh, God.  For the first time, Jack looked ahead and saw years of fatherhood stretched before him.  Years to screw it up once again.  Crap, Daniel, what did I get us into? 

“He trusts you, you know,” Carolyn said, gazing at Jack with all-too-discerning eyes.  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.  He tries to cover it sometimes, but yours is still the first name he says when he wakes up in my infirmary.”

“I talked him into…this.”  He gestured hopelessly toward the other room.  Only two small legs were visible, as if the MRI machine had swallowed the boy’s body.

“You talked him into living,” Carolyn corrected.  “In my book, that’s always a good thing.”

#

As Carolyn predicted, Daniel fell asleep.  Jack was shooed out of the infirmary, with the doctor’s assurance that Daniel would probably sleep several hours, and if he didn’t, she would call Jack immediately.  Jack set off in search of SG-1.

Not surprisingly, he found them in Daniel’s office.  Teal’c stood in front of a bookshelf, silently perusing the many titles.  Mitchell sat on the desk chair behind Daniel’s computer, slowly revolving back and forth, his fingers drumming on his knees.  Jack recognized the nervous energy and was impressed that Mitchell had the good sense not to fiddle with the artifacts on the desk.  Carter was leaning against Daniel’s workbench, holding one of Daniel’s journals.  Tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks, and her eyes were distant, as if she were seeing a different journal at a different time.

Jack stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.  SG-1 straightened and looked at him expectantly.

“How’s Daniel, sir?” Carter asked.  Belatedly, she set down Daniel’s journal and swiped the tears away with her palms.

Jack stalled.  “What have you heard?”

“Vala Mal Doran was most distressed,” Teal’c answered, “but less than forthcoming about her reasons.  She inferred that you had made a decision concerning Daniel Jackson’s health with which she disagreed, but she appeared too upset to disclose any additional information.”

“Ah.”  Jack wandered farther into the office, picked up a pen from the workbench, and twirled it between his fingers like a mini-baton.

“Sir?” Mitchell prompted at the long, heavy silence.

Jack sighed and dropped the pen.  “Right.”

He launched into the tale, looking everywhere but at their faces as he took the blame for the decision he’d forced onto Daniel.  It felt more like a confession than a briefing.  Even Merlin’s solution of a child’s body and Carolyn’s description of Daniel’s memories, or lack of them, felt like sins.  When he trailed off and glanced up, he was expecting their condemnation.  Instead, the expressions that met his were filled with understanding.

“A hard choice,” Teal’c said.  He crossed an arm over his chest in salute and inclined his head.  Oh, yeah.  Sacrifice was something Teal’c understood well. 

“A selfish choice, do you think?” Jack asked, hating himself for needing their approval.

Mitchell stood.  “You once told me that the hardest part of leading SG-1 would be keeping Daniel alive.  You said as long as I kept Daniel alive, everything else could be worked out.  Sounds like you kept him alive, sir.  So now we just gotta make sure everything else works out.”

“Can we see him?” Carter asked.

Hope shone in her eyes, and Jack hated to crush it, but it was better done now, before she encountered the non-recognition in Daniel’s eyes.

“This isn’t like him coming home from Vis Uban, Carter,” he warned.  “Daniel’s not going to gradually remember who we are or what he does here.  He’s a kid now.  Starting over from scratch.  He doesn’t know any of us.”  Jack paused as the truth of the situation struck him anew.  “Shit, he doesn’t even know himself.”

“We are his family,” Teal’c stated simply.  “Whether he knows us or not, we will be here for him.”

Jack gazed at the trio of determined faces.  He imagined SG-1 trooping through Washington DC, scowling at everyone who came anywhere near the kid, Daniel’s own self-elected cadre of bodyguards.  Once Jack followed through on his plan to formally adopt Daniel, he might as well move back to Colorado.  There was no way SG-1 would allow themselves to be separated from Daniel.  Regardless of his physical appearance or mental condition, Daniel would ever and always be part of SG-1.

The phone rang.  Closest to it, Mitchell snatched it up as if grateful for the distraction.  He listened for a moment, acknowledged the information, and hung up.

“That was Lam,” he said, glancing at Jack.  “Jackson’s awake.”

“Already?”

Desperately hoping that nothing was wrong, Jack shot for the door.  As he headed down the corridor, he realized the others were right behind him.  A peek over his shoulder revealed that same set of determined faces, and he decided to let it go.  They were coming with him, and the only way to stop it would require throwing them all in the brig for insubordination since they were likely to disobey any order to stay put.

Sergeant Matt Wetherly looked a little freaked at the whole group bearing down on him, probably wondering how he was going to follow Lam’s orders and refuse entry to a Jaffa and two lieutenant colonels.  The freak-out moment relaxed into relief when Jack indicated the group behind him with a jerk of his thumb and said, “They’re with me.”

Inside the infirmary, Jack headed straight for Daniel.  Focused on the boy who sat clutching the teddy bear with its lopsided bow, Jack barely heard Carter’s choked-off sob or Mitchell’s muttered curse behind him.  Daniel, still looking bewildered and lost, lit up when he noticed Jack.

“Daddy!”  He held out an arm, and Jack obliged by scooping the kid off the bed and hugging him close, the teddy bear tucked between them.

“Hey, squirt.  I thought you were sleeping.”

“Me woked up.”

“So I see.”  He glanced toward Lam standing near her office, who mouthed, He’s fine.  Jack let himself relax, though he still asked, “How’s your head?”

Daniel’s forehead scrunched.  “Gooder.  But still can’t re-nemmer fings.”

“Doctor Lam told you that it would happen.”

“Cuz of the ask-dunt.  Me know.”  Daniel nodded and then studied Jack’s face intently, as if memorizing it.  “Wanna re-nemmer you, Daddy.”

“It’s okay.  You don’t have to.”

Daniel accepted Jack’s assurance with the easy resilience that most children displayed in difficult situations.  Peering over Jack’s shoulder, he grinned brightly at the watching members of SG-1.

“Hi!  Me Daniel!  Who you?”

“These are some friends of ours,” Jack said and proceeded to introduce the others.

In a short amount of time, Daniel had learned what each SG-1 member did for a job, where they lived, how they liked to spend their free time.  Carter, Mitchell, and even Teal’c seemed fascinated by the kid’s endless stream of questions and tended to answer without regard for any cover story Jack might have dreamed up.  Luckily, Jack hadn’t offered much of a cover story yet, so nothing they said contradicted what Daniel already knew.

Jack realized, as he watched Daniel chatter to the others, that this was Daniel as he was meant to be.  Outgoing, friendly, curious.  An enthusiasm untempered by tragedy.  Because of the memory loss, he was completely innocent, with a deep childlike trust that had never been betrayed.  He no longer remembered that strangers weren’t always friends, that life wasn’t always fair, that adults didn’t always listen to overly talkative children.  As far as Daniel knew, no one had ever told him to be quiet or sit still or keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

So, not just freaky intelligence, but an innocence that was as scary as hell.

Then, at an off-hand remark from Carter about Vala, Daniel’s chattering screeched to an abrupt halt.  He buried his face against Jack’s shoulder and squeezed his arms around Jack’s middle, squishing the teddy bear between them until Jack could feel the plastic button nose stabbing his chest.

“We had a rather unpleasant visit from Vala earlier,” Jack reminded the others.

Carter winced and touched Daniel’s back.  “I’m sorry, Daniel.  I forgot.”

Daniel turned his head.  “She was mad at Daddy,” he huffed, indignant on Jack’s behalf.

“She’s scared,” Mitchell replied, unconsciously mimicking Lam’s earlier explanation for Vala’s behavior.  “I had a talk with her before your…accident.  She’s not used to watching her friends take risks.”

There was something ominous in Mitchell’s tone.  Jack shot him a look.

“You think she’s gonna run?”

Mitchell answered slowly, “I think Jackson’s the reason she’s hung around as long as she has.  Now that he’s been…hurt, I wouldn’t be surprised if she took off.  Staying power isn’t exactly her strong point, if you know what I mean.”

“I will speak with her,” Teal’c said.

Daniel sat straighter in Jack’s arms and nodded hard.  “Me too.”

“Daniel, you don’t have to do that,” Carter said, beating Jack to the comment by mere seconds. 

“Wanna.”  He looked at Jack.  “Daddy, me wanna help dat mean lady.”

What adults really wanted to do with an innocence like Daniel’s, Jack decided, was wrap it up in cotton, surround it with unassailable walls, and protect it forever.  Unfortunately, that was rarely an option.  And with Daniel, it was even less of an option because Daniel would fight that well-meaning protection with everything he had.  Take the case in point.

Mitchell snorted.  “Oh boy, I’ve seen that look before!”

So had Jack.  Often.  There was a certain set to Daniel’s jaw, a hardness in his eyes, a single look that meant I’ve made up my mind about this, Jack.  Come along and keep me safe, if you must, but nothing you say or do is going to stop me.  Daniel’s stubborn expression got the point across without Daniel saying a word.  Obviously, the child knew how to go for the same effect.  Which suddenly made Jack wonder how Daniel’s parents had dealt with their kid’s stubborn streak.  And how he was going to deal with it.

“It intortant, Daddy.”

“What’s important?”

“Talking,” Daniel said in a tone that implied, Duh, Jack.  “Cuz dat’s how me turn the mean peoples into gooder peoples.”

Part 3

Sure Thrust

Slumped against the headboard of her bed, Vala gazed at the SG-1 patch in her hands, turning it over and over, rubbing her thumb across the material.  Mitchell’s words ricocheted through her memory.

Congratulations.  Now you really are one of us.

Ever since they’d found Daniel, stuck with some weird combination of Prior and Merlin inhabiting his body, she’d been thinking about what Mitchell had said and wondering if she could still do this.  Was SG-1 worth it?  Roaming around the galaxy by herself, she hadn’t worried about anyone.  She hadn’t bothered with those irritating twinges on her conscience; she hadn’t even realized she had a conscience.  And damn, she hadn’t cried so often either.

She wiped angrily at the tears that were forming again.

Why was she still here?  What difference did it make?  Obviously, the Ori followers still thought a holy war was the way to go.  The evil spawn she called a daughter might be dead, and even if Adria were alive, it didn’t seem likely that she’d see the error of her ways and come crying home to Mommy.  In the grand scheme of things, what could Vala bring to the fight anyway?  She might as well steal a couple artifacts to keep herself going and take off.

And why not?  What was keeping her here, after all?  With sudden decision, she slapped the patch down on the bed, jumped up, and found the satchel she kept under the bed.  After emptying the first and second drawers of her room’s bureau, she stuffed clothes inside her satchel until it was bulging.  She opened the third drawer.  And stopped.

Lying on top was a white flower, carefully preserved between pieces of waxed paper.  Daniel had picked up the flower that had fallen from her hair when she was kidnapped by Athena’s goons.  He kept it, pressed it, and had given it back to her later, a memento of their “not-a-date” that had been his way of saying thank you.

Damn, it always came back to Daniel.  He had taken a chance on her, trusted her when no one else would, fought for her to have a place here.  And she liked having that place.  She had finally found somewhere to belong, and she was glad for it.  Could she leave, after all Daniel had done to allow her to stay?

Now that her shocked fury had passed, she was honest enough to admit that she was glad for whatever O’Neill had done to keep Daniel here.  She remembered how desperate she’d felt they lost him to Adria.  Vala’s emotions had been so mixed up then, vacillating between anger that he’d risked himself and worry at what the Ori might doing to him.  The rest of SG-1 hadn’t coped much better.  They were all touchy, as if Daniel was the string that held them all together, and removing him had stretched the string so tightly that it threatened to break whenever anything stressful flicked against it.  Her relief when Daniel had shown up, seemingly normal despite the Prior appearance and occasional switch into Merlin-like behavior, had been so incredibly intense that she’d thought her heart would stop beating.  She couldn’t imagine her life—their lives—without Daniel around.

But was it really Daniel?  Was there anything of the man hidden inside the little boy she’d seen?  What would happen to SG-1 if there wasn’t?  What would happen to her?  Without Daniel to point it out, would anyone see her worth?  If she left, would anyone even notice?

The door chimed.  Tired of her own thoughts and grateful for the distraction, she called for her visitor to enter.  She changed her mind when she saw who it was.

“Go away.”

Teal’c didn’t move.  His right hand was wrapped protectively around the much smaller hand of a little boy.  Daniel.

“Daniel Jackson wishes to speak with you.”

“Tough.  I don’t want to talk to him.”  She kept her eyes on Teal’c.  She wasn’t looking at Daniel, not while he was like this.  “You babysitting, Muscles?”

“Indeed.  O’Neill is informing General Landry of the situation.”

Situation?  Is that what they were calling this?  A complete loss, a total tragedy, and they were minimizing it into a “situation”?  She finally spared a glance at the boy.  They’d found clothes for him somewhere.  Jeans, socks, and a blue T-shirt picturing a train.  Daniel had always been cute, but the little boy get-up was…adorable.

Teal’c crouched to Daniel’s eye level, an impressive feat for such a big guy, and asked in the quietest voice Vala had ever heard from him, “Do you wish privacy for your conversation with Vala Mal Doran?  I can remain outside in the corridor for you.”

“I’m not talk--”  She bit off the protest with a huff, throwing up her hands in frustration.  They weren’t listening to her anyway.

Daniel looked uncertainly at the door.  “Right outside?  Not go nowhere?”

“I will not leave.”

Daniel nodded.  “Dat’s good den.  Me talk to dat lady, you wait outside dere.”

Teal’c inclined his head and unbent himself without a grunt or even a push-off from the floor—another impressive feat.  His glare warned Vala to be nice.  She humphed inwardly.  Oh, sure, he’d protect the kid from Vala, but who was going to protect Vala from the kid?  Obviously not Teal’c.  One last mutual glare, and the Jaffa was out the door.

Daniel wandered farther into the room, glancing around curiously until he noticed the satchel.  Then his damn perceptive gaze went straight to her.

“You go away?”

“I might.  So what?”

“You go cuz of me.  Cam sayed so.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.  I don’t need a reason to take off.  There are too many rules in this place anyway.”

“Dis place?  Home?” 

Damn, Daniel always did know how to jump on the most important words.  She shrugged off his inquiry and turned away from his gaze.  With her back to him, she gently placed the pressed flower on top of the bureau.

“Why you not stay home?”

“This isn’t home,” she said through clenched teeth.  She sniffed and rubbed furiously at her nose.  She wasn’t going to cry anymore.  She absolutely refused.

“Sam here.  Teek here.  Cam here.  Docker Lam here.  Daddy here.  Me here.  You here.  Dis home.”  He paused and then said plaintively, “Stay home, Vala.”

Vala closed her eyes as a much older Daniel’s voice echoed from the past, You made a decision to stop running.  It’s over.  Now it’s time to come home.

Except it wasn’t Daniel anymore, was it?  Daniel had done the noble sacrifice thing, gotten his head screwed by some Ancient, and left this…imitation…in his place.

She spun on her heel.  “Look, I really don’t care…”

She stopped, caught open-mouthed by the sight of Daniel kneeling on the bed and shoving her clothes over the edge.  While she was fighting memories, he had obviously decided to dump the contents of her satchel.  As she watched, he checked to make sure the satchel was empty and then tossed it to join the piles on the floor.

“Why, you little...”

Daniel settled himself in a cross-legged position on her bed and blinked up angelically.  “Stay now?”

She wagged a finger at him.  “Don’t you try that all-innocent look on me.  You did that on purpose.”

His lips twitched, as if he were fighting a giggle.  He looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help chuckling, infected by his amusement.  Tricky little bugger.  It brought to mind Daniel’s shocked look when she had first slapped the Goa’uld “wedding band” on him.  Ah, well.  “Turnabout’s fair play” was the saying around here, if she remembered right.

She joined him on the bed, imitating his cross-legged posture so their knees were almost touching.  Would have been touching, if he hadn’t been this dwarf-sized version of himself.  Tears stung her eyes again.  Damn.

Daniel touched her knee.  “Why you scared, Vala?”

“I’m not,” she muttered.  It was a lie, but what did it matter?  She always lied.  That’s why people paid attention to her, after all.  Without the lies, she’d be invisible.

“You scared,” Daniel said with conviction.  He leaned forward and stared deep into her eyes.  “Me see you.”

A sob caught in her throat at the simple statement.  She had never been invisible around Daniel.  Though she still told them out of habit, she didn’t need the lies when she was with him.  He looked into her soul and saw things she’d tried to hide even from herself.

“Me gonna hold you.”  He reached out and grasped her hand.  “Den you stay home wif me.”

She felt tears slide down her cheeks as she thought of Daniel, facing down her gun and her confusion until she remembered where her home was.  If I let you go, I know you’re going to make yourself disappear.

As if he could hear the echo of himself, Daniel repeated in a whisper, “Me see you, Vala.”

She brushed away the tears with her free hand and finally admitted with a small, wry laugh, “You always did.”

Apparently, young or old, memory-impaired or not, he still possessed the ability to thrust straight into the heart of the matter and pull out what really mattered.

She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since he’d become this child.  He didn’t really look like Daniel.  His blond hair was more white than brown.  His cheeks still retained some baby fat so he didn’t have Daniel’s bony, “forgot-to-eat” appearance.  His forehead wasn’t scrunched in that “world-is-depending-on-me” way that would leave deep stress lines all over his face.  Without glasses, his eyes seemed more blue, more…

Ah, there was something she recognized.

She lifted their joined hands and maneuvered them toward Daniel’s face, touching the point of his chin with both of their knuckles.

“I see you too, Daniel,” she said gently. 

He had always been good at hiding.  Unlike her, he didn’t desire attention.  He was happy to be left alone with his books, his research… and his guilt.  The walls he built around himself, the emotional distance he kept from others, the privacy he maintained despite his ability to befriend anyone—those things had enticed Vala as if he were a jewel locked behind the most elaborate security system.  She was constantly trying to breach his defenses, trying to reach that jewel.  It had seemed an impossible, though enjoyable, way of passing time.  Then she discovered the key.  He unbolted the door himself.  All she had to do was watch his eyes and be ready to slip inside the moment his guard was down.

“You’re scared too.”

Shadows flickered across his eyes, telling her everything.  Ah, Daniel.  All those years lost, and still feeling guilty.

“Don’t re-nemmer fings,” he admitted quietly.  “Ebby-buddy sad.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He tipped his head and studied her back.  “Daddy’s fault?  You sayed so.”

“No, not his fault either.”  She sighed.  “I didn’t mean that.  I was…”

“Scared,” they said together and smiled at each other.

She wondered if the child Daniel would shrug off physical comfort the way the adult had.  It would be nice to hug him, but she didn’t want to scare him, now that they’d found a more comfortable understanding.  While she considered his possible reaction to a cuddle, he tugged his hand free and then dug into his jeans pocket to pull out a folded paper.

“Gonna show you sumfing.”  He opened the paper and smoothed the creases.  “Teek taked me to a big room wif lots of books afore we comed here, and me finded a pitcher in one of da books, so Teek cutted it out for me cuz me ask-ted him to, and him sayed it was my book anyway.  Me show you.”

Daniel passed the paper to Vala.  She recognized it as an illustration from one of those humungous volumes about Camelot, Merlin, and such that Daniel had been scrutinizing for the last couple months.  The picture showed a handsome young man dressed in armor walking beside a white horse.

Daniel leaned forward, pointed to the young man, and whispered as if imparting a great secret, “Dat me.”

“You, huh?”

She read the caption.  Galahad, the Worthiest Knight.  Galahad lived and thought on a level entirely apart from other knights of the Arthurian legend and was one of the few to achieve the Holy Grail.

“Dat me,” Daniel repeated in a solemn voice, and then carefully and correctly pronounced, “Galahad.”

She glanced at him speculatively.  Come to think of it, Merlin had called Daniel by that name when they were in the cave looking for the Sangraal.

“Who told you that?  Sam?”

Daniel shook his head.  Damn, he’d closed the door on her again.  She knew from the guarded look in his eyes that she wouldn’t get anything else from him on this topic.  Looking for another way to re-engage him, she examined the picture again and noticed a long black mark from the young knight’s waist to the ground.  She glanced closer at it.

“Daniel, did you scribble something out on this picture?”

He glanced where she was pointing and nodded.  “Yup.  Dey drawed it wrong.  Me nebber used-ed a sword.”

“No sword?  How did he fight then?”

“Fighting bad.  Me just talk-ted.”

She snorted lightly, thinking of Adria’s fanaticism and the Ori’s crusade.  “I don’t think talking is going to win this war.”

“Nope,” Daniel said confidently as he scrambled down from her bed and started for the door.  “Not talking.  Not fighting eeber.”

“I don’t suppose you know what will win this war.”

He tossed an impish grin over his shoulder.  “Seeing.”

She stared, not certain if she should take his answer seriously or if it was part of their earlier conversation about each other.

“Come on!  Daddy sayed me getted ice cweem when ebby-buddy getted done talking,” he cried, hurrying for the door.  Then he stopped suddenly.  When he returned to her with his hand outstretched, she gave him back the picture, which he folded carefully and slid into his pocket.  He looked at her solemnly and lifted a finger to his lips.  “Dis secret.  You not tell.  Promise?”

She nodded.  He grinned brightly and ran for the door again.

“Come on, Vala!”  He sprinted into the corridor and grabbed Teal’c’s hand.  “Ice cweem, Teek!  Daddy sayed so.”

“Have you finished your discussion with Vala Mal Doran?”

“Yup.  Her all gooder now.  Her stay home wif me.”

“I am pleased to hear it, Daniel Jackson.  Let us proceed to the commissary then.”

She followed them slowly down the corridor, watching the boy chatter excitedly about ice cream flavors to his serene bodyguard.  A boy.  A seed that might grow into Daniel.  Or it might not.  She’d once ferreted out the secret that Daniel’s parents had died while he was growing up.  How much different would this Daniel turn out, with an Air Force general to raise him?  With two lieutenant colonels and two aliens who were as close as family?  With access to the memories of an Ascended being?

She wondered why he had shown the picture of Galahad to her.  Was it because she was the alien, the still-new member of Daniel’s clan who didn’t catch the in-jokes and the nuances of half-finished sentences?  Maybe she would have been the first to notice the otherworldliness that clung to Daniel, and the picture had been his way of preempting her from sharing that discovery with the others.

Or was it because she had given Daniel up for lost?  While the others looked for hints of the man they knew in the boy who remained, she had already started to grieve because the man who understood her best was gone.  Was this Daniel trying to show her that he still understood her?  Her life was about secrets, and he had given her one that might prove to be the most important secret she had ever kept.

The connection to Merlin wasn’t completely severed.

She looked at the boy skipping along ahead of her and whispered, “I see you, Galahad.”

There was no thunderclap.  No flash of lightning.  No gust of air.  Nothing to indicate that she was right.  But she knew she was.  She didn’t know how, when, or why, but somehow Daniel’s belief in himself as a knight of Camelot and his link to Merlin would end the war with the Ori and save them all.  For the first time since she’d felt the flames of the Ori devouring her, she felt hope.

Daniel glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her.

Here endeth the first

Chronicle of Galahad.

§

    
                                                                                                            #2  Closure