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I enter my old office and put my books and laptop down on the table located there. Then, for some reason, I stop and look around. It seems different. The absence of him has forever changed its appearance in my eyes. Okay, maybe it is a little more organized than before. Things are piled in neat stacks instead of being spread around by subject matter. I notice that someone has changed the light bulbs again. I'll need to call Siler, or his replacement, to reinstall lower wattage bulbs. The bright light will damage the pigments on the artifacts I'm sure will be showing up soon. Luckily my desk lamp is still here complete with a soft-white bulb.
Objects are shuffled around, relocated to areas not of my choice; but I've brought some of my more personal items back, the talismans that go with me everywhere. I have my wedding cup, and the infamous Camel picture taken when I was so much younger and more naive. Then there's my picture of the team. We four were so close for such different individuals. Some said we were joined at the hip. Where you'd find one, you'd find at least one other member of SG1. It's how we worked in the beginning. We were all still trying to prove ourselves to each other and to everyone else. Jack had to show that he was still capable; Sam wanted to let everyone know she was more than just a pretty face; Teal'c needed to demonstrate his loyalty to this planet; and me, I had to convince everyone I was willing and able to do anything to find my Sha'uri.
My poor lost dead Sha'uri. She's gone forever now. At least she's at peace and no longer being tortured by the knowledge of what Ammunet could force her to do. In my more wistful moments I can see her meeting with my mother and dad to discuss their lives and their deaths.
I look around at the shelves that line the wall. There seems to be many more books somehow. I don't know where they've come from and I don't want to ask. Maybe someone had ordered more. Maybe they've just all returned like the sheep in the nursery rhyme, but the corners are all full . . . full of what used to be. Because, you see, the room is also full of ghosts.
If I look in that niche, I can see Robert Rothman, bent over a book trying to decipher some esoteric symbols. There are furrows on his forehead above his black-framed glasses, his dark curly hair is, as always, falling down over his forehead and he's wheezing from the dust that invariably accumulates on books. "Jeez, Daniel," he'd complain. "Why don't you clean up in here once in a while? It's no wonder you can't find anything." Then he'd grin at me and ask for another cup of coffee, "Cause you always have the good stuff."
There, perched on the corner of my desk, is the spirit of Janet Fraiser. She's in her blue uniform with the white lab coat on over it. "Daniel, have you eaten today?" she always asks. "Daniel, when was the last time you slept?" And I'd always give her grief back. "C'mon Janet, you've been practicing on Cassie again. I'm fine. Just let me finish this project. General Hammond needs it, tonight." Then she'd laugh at me, pat me on the back and go on, but not before calling over her shoulder, "If you don't do as you're told, I'll tell the Colonel." Oh Yeah, like that would work.
On the couch, I can see Charlie Kowalski sitting there. He's just lolling back, watching me with amusement, waiting for the geek to do something outrageous. "C'mon, Doctor J. What cha got up your sleeve today? Anything exciting?" No, Charlie, just more research. Are you surprised that I'm still alive? I know I am."
Then there are other specters: Nick, Elliot and Narim, Martuff and Jacob, Skaara and Kasuf. Lives of my friends, lives of my family, lives that were cut too short too soon.
And I won't look too deeply into the darker shadows for fear of finding less friendly ghosts. They are the haunts of Hathor, of Apophis, of Cronus and of Niriti. They are the spirits that color my nightmares.
But this office is also home to fond memories. General Hammond, more a father figure to me than a commander. He's retired now, enjoying his time with the two granddaughters who are now more young women than the children I remember.
I have fond recollections of Sam Carter here with me. The two of us bent over some impossible task involving some alien artifact, trying to fix it, break it, or just understand what it does. She's on some super secret assignment now and I'm betting the numbers 51 figure prominently in the equation too.
Teal'c is also gone, the mighty warrior who tried so hard to make up for his wrong doings. He's off planet, leading the Jaffa rebellion now, with his mentor Bra'tac and his son Rya'c by his side. I wish them well and success in their great undertaking.
But there is one phantom of my imagination that won't leave me alone. He's everywhere I look but just out of my line of sight. He's my mentor, my plague, my friend, and my protector, Jack O'Neill. He's chivvied me from one end of the galaxy to the other, watching my six and guarding my soul. I can picture him leaning against my doorframe, see him juggling my artifacts and watch his expressions shift as he helps me translate a script of the Ancients. I visualize his silver hair as he lifts his scarred eyebrow and tells me some off color joke. I note that his old coffee mug is still on the table next to mine. I bet his extra boots are under my couch, and I'm afraid that there's still a dirty tee shirt balled up in my bottom drawer. Don't ask, because I won't tell.
I miss him because Jack is not in my everyday life now. He's gone on to bigger, if not better, things. He bestrides the halls of the Pentagon faster than an X-301, more powerful than a Goa'uld mother ship, and leaps tall stacks of asinine policy manuals in a single bound. His days consist of bedeviling bureaucrats, pestering politicians, and annoying the hell out of pompous authority figures. He's there because someone's got to do it and he's the best man for the job.
And me? I'm back here at the SGC again. There's a new general on station and a new commander for SG1 due in any time. I don't know why I've been recalled. The briefing is a 1500 and I'll go to the command section and sit at the table with the new team that General Landry has selected. He'll no doubt speak of new dangers in the offing, new adversaries to fight, and new threats to be guarded against.
However, it won't be the same. Now instead of searching the galaxy for things of intellectual interest to satisfy my longings, I know that what I really want and need is waiting for me here on Earth. I'm confident that in a few more years I'll retire to the fabled cabin in Minnesota by the pond with no fish. There I will reacquaint myself with the man I dream of spending the rest of my life with and we'll live out our days together. But, for right now, I'm here in my office again, and I have work to do.