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I stand on the back porch and survey my large back yard. I'm hosting one of my annual SGC picnic bashes. Every August, when its warm enough for an old Texas boy like myself to be outside here in Colorada, I have a big ole bar-b-que. It's turned into quite a tradition.
I almost didn't have one last year. It was a hard time for everyone, especially us veterans of Stargate Command. It had been unbelievable, so many deaths, so many disasters. Some of our allies were completely destroyed and some were on the run but then it really hit close to the heart. We had lost Daniel Jackson. It was more a wake than a picnic. It was downright depressing.
I thought the loss was gonna kill Jack O'Neill. He and Doctor Jackson were on the first team to go through the gate, along with Lou Ferretti. But these two oh so very different men had bonded like nobody's business. There'd even been a few rumors floating around the command about the two of them. But, thank God for the Don't Ask--Don't Tell ruling. I didn't wanna and they didn't hafta. And frankly, like Rhett Butler, I didn't give a damn. I know a team that works and by God, SG-1 worked.
Oh, they had their rough times like all families do. Fussing and fighting is good for a team once in a while, gets rid of the unnecessary shit. Clears the air, so to speak. Jack and Daniel had hit one of those patches in their friendships, just a normal thing in my opinion. You can't live in each other's hip pockets without rubbing a sore spot now and again. Unfortunately, the tragedy happened right in the middle of one of their fights.
It had been coming for a while, but the explosion happened over that robot gal with the replicators. Jack, being the man that he is, took care of the situation the only way he knew how. I gotta admit though, it was partially my fault. I had put us on a self-destruct countdown. Doctor Jackson didn't know about it until much later, and he blamed Jack for taking the robot out. I saw the security tapes later. The boy was hurt, but was trying his damnedest to get her to fix her mess when Jack comes in, P-90 blazing, and blows hell out of her. Jackson, not knowing the wheres and whatfors, and him being hurting and mad, called Jack a 'stupid son of a bitch'.
I had to admire Jack then. He clamped down on his own anger and turns the other cheek and leaves. But, it was too late. That little flare-up turned the milk sour for a good long while. They were just beginning to get it back together when the unthinkable happened. Daniel died.
Jack just started to whither up. I actually saw him in the armory cleaning his P-90 with a single-minded passion that scared me right down to my boots. I'd read in his psyche eval a long time ago about his self-destructiveness, but I'd never seen it in action before.
Doc Fraiser and I spent a lot of time Jack-watching after that. But he did his duty like the professional that he is. We had to put up with all the crap from the JCS about SG-1's new teammate being Russian. Then Jack surprised me no end and picked Jonas Quinn to fill out SG-1. Now, I was really in a fix. Was this some psycho way Jack was figuring on to get rid of the man? He was there when Daniel was poisoned. Was it a revenge move or was Jack really able to do this. I figured I'd give it a chance and depend on his innate sense of honor. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by my Colonel.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, Jack told me he'd seen Daniel, had actually talked to him. That he'd come and we needed to help the boy protect his family on Abydos. Hell, if Jack O'Neill told me Satan himself appeared in a puff of brimstone and talked to him, I'd be hard pressed not to accept it. But this was no stretch at all. I mean, I knew Daniel wasn't really dead...I'd been there in the clinic when he left...er, ascended. If he was gonna visit anyone, it was gonna be Jack. So, I let them go to Abydos.
But they lost the war, lost Abydos, lost the people...and Daniel. Jack was holding on by his fingernails again, but he was holding on, so it was business as usual. Then, they went to looking for the lost planet of the Ancients described on the tables Doctor Jackson had given Quinn. And, bless Pat, here they come back with Daniel; hale, hearty and not a memory in sight. But, being true to form, Jackson just gets back on the horse he fell off of and the whole damned team goes off to save a world...again...same world...Kelowna...go figger.
So now, here we are, one year later. Chef Siler is manning the grill with some help from a changing band of NCOs. Some of the other folks are pitching horseshoes and some are just telling tales. Daniel, Sam, Teal'c, Cassie Fraiser and some of the other young folks are over there playing a rowdy game of volleyball. Jack's stretched out on a chase lounge in the shade with a cold beer and somebody's baby on his lap. He's watching the game and grinning like a possum. I decided I'd wander over and set a spell with him.
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The General sat down in an empty lawn chair by his second in command. "How ya doing, Jack?"
"Doing good, George." He smiled up at his friend and commanding officer. "Just doing a little baby sitting for Lieutenant Jordan while her team gets their ass kicked by SG-1 and Cassie."
"So I see." The baby had fallen asleep on O'Neill's lap, instinctively enjoying the warm security to be found in the strong arms of a kind man. "How are things going with SG-1?"
O'Neill looked at him with a satisfied smile. "Good. It's going good. A little adjustment because of the personnel change, but it's smoothing out well."
"Glad to hear it. I've been a little concerned because of Doctor Jackson's memory loss."
"Yeah, well, it's coming back to him. He remembers the important stuff. Every once in a while there's a little piece of something that he has to get from one of us but his skills are intact."
The General nodded. He'd seen the young man's competence around the SGC. "I heard the two of you went fishing."
"Yeah, he needed to get out of the base...you know, see familiar things, breathe fresh air, walk on his own planet." Jack watched the man in question serve the ball over the net, then run to return it only to fall over Carter who was going for it too. The two friends were laughing and squabbling like kids.
"Well, he certainly seems happier now...than before."
Jack nodded, looking over at Hammond. "Yeah, much as I hate to admit it, it was probably good that he forgot some of the crap he'd been carrying around. And I hadn't been helping much back then either."
"Well, Jack, sooner or later shit happens to all of us." George watched Daniel pull Sam Carter to her feet and the two of them hug.
"I know, but he seemed to have more than his fair share there for a while."
"That's certainly true enough." Hammond agreed with a nod. He saw Siler waving at him from the big 55-gallon drum grill. "Well, looks like the cook needs me. Have a good time, Jack. You deserve it." He reached over and patted O'Neill's bare foot in a warm gesture.
Jack lifted the beer bottle in a salute, careful not to wake the sleeping infant. "Thanks George. I'm doing fine. I've got all I need right in front of me."