Shared Spaces
by SaraC
E-MAIL: silk1023@aol.com
STATUS: Complete
RATING: PG
SEASON: 7
SPOILERS: Through current season (7) and "Lifeboat"
SUMMARY: Just how much of you can remain when your body plays host to so many
different people?
DISCLAIMERS: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. I made no money off the production of this fan fiction and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, this is my first stab at writing a "Daniel" fic. Yes, it's got
some undertones of Dan/Jan (my new fav ship) and might have more pieces, like
Janet's thoughts if people are interested. Again, this is a little angsty, and
hopefully, somewhat true to what our favorite archaeologist might be thinking
every now and then, being that aliens (and other people) love to possess his
body. (Not that I wouldn't enjoy it myself... but I digress). So as my first
ever contributing fic, I hope you at least give it a try and let me know what
you think!!
I wonder sometimes if there's something about SG-1 that sends out a message
to every parasitic alien- or human for that matter- we encounter: "Take me! I'd
make a great host!" Stupid I know, but all you have to do is look at the,
well, things that have taken over our collective minds and bodies in our time
with the Stargate Program.
Luckily, we've all ended up okay- well, at least as okay as one can be after
having a totally different person living inside of you. Still, the affects
linger and there are times when you wonder if you lost a part of yourself while
merged with that other person.
At least, I wonder.
You might be asking why, I, Dr. Daniel Jackson, professor of archaeology and
linguistics master, the man who made the Stargate work and opened the door to
new worlds, am spending one of my few on-world free nights wondering about the
various entities that have possessed me at one time or another over the past
few years.
The answer? Because it was only a month ago that I had, among others, a
scared young boy, an authoritarian ruler and a brilliant engineer fighting to
control my body. Janet said I probably wouldn't remember much of what had happened,
since my body apparently has learned enough over the years to protect itself-
more importantly, my mind, by shutting down.
But my mind cannot shut down and I do remember- at least, some things.
For the past few weeks, I've been getting flashes, even feelings sometimes,
of the boy's fear, the engineer's panic and the ruler's fierce desire to make a
better life for his people, despite his rather brusque manner. It's like
their voices still have something to tell me- like they became a part of me that
my mind can't seem to rid itself of.
I still hear Ma'chello's voice in my mind at times, telling me something that
I can't quite understand but I know he needs me to. It's an urgency that I
can't ignore, not that I try extremely hard, since it usually provides some
knowledge we need to defeat the Gou'ald.
Oma Desala's image lingers as well- whether to guide me and my friends, or to
remind me of what I gave up to come back to my family here on Earth. Not that
I can remember anything of my 'ascension' but the feeling of something all
powerful and wonderful lingers, again in a way, like whispers and images in my
mind.
And then, as always, there is Sha're. While her image is always at the back
of my mind, her soft voice always able to be heard above the clamor of the
others, she chooses mostly to remain silent. It's a blessing and a curse at times.
Times I so desperately want to talk to her, to hear her words of wisdom, or
her simple "Daniel"- spoken as two syllables with the 'el' drawn out, she
remains silent. Times when I want to banish her voice and memories and the
wonderful, painful pleasure I feel when I remember our too short time together, when
her voice will not leave me alone. I don't know if it's a comfort or a blessing
really.
Those whispers, words and images mix and intermingle in my conscious- and on
nights like these, when I am not exploring new worlds with my SG-1 family or
pouring over my 'rocks and research' as Jack likes to call them- their voices
ring like a cacophony in my mind.
I know, it sounds as if I am a classic 'schizophrenic' case. Voices in the
head, images that only I can see, messages that only I can hear. Funny how no
one questions the 'second conscious' of a Gou'ald symbiote. Sam, Jacob, even
Teal'c are accepted- while it's always "Dr. Jackson" who is doubted.
Not that I blame them, especially with my history. Heck, if I were a medical
doctor, like Janet, I'd probably request to have myself committed. I am not a
medical doctor, however- but I am a doctor of the mind in many ways.
I figure out puzzles, minds and collective consciousnesses, patterns and
images that might one day save our world and countless others. I've always loved
the challenge of finding the missing piece of the puzzle, the satisfaction of
solving a mystery that has stumped the greatest detectives in the world. It is
more than likely, the reason I chose to leave wherever it was I had "ascended"
to- I wanted the challenge of figuring things out myself- even if, a lot of
the time, I get them wrong at first.
Or end up getting that information from yet another person who has taken my
body and used my mind to convey a message to others.
Janet once told me it is as if I were being abused- "mind raped"- I believe
she frankly put it. These voices, these people, take over my mind without my
acceptance, without warning. It sounds brutal, but at times, that truly is the
only way I can describe it. It's not something I enjoy, even when it appears to
be 'for the good' of someone else. While I'm all for doing whatever it takes
to preserve a people, to save lives instead of take them, there is only so
much one human mind, and one human body can handle.
I wonder sometimes, how much of me, plain ol' Daniel Jackson, is left inside
this body and this mind.
I am tired of these voices. Tired of the fears and insecurities and knowledge
they try to impart. I hate the fact that there are people, races out there,
who have no problems with taking over someone's mind and body- using it to
their will, no matter what the cost to Daniel Jackson.
I want my own memories, the memories that make up the life of Daniel Jackson,
good and bad, painful and joyous that it has been. While I will be the first
to admit, many of my memories are not the most pleasant, there is one
important thing about them- they are mine.
Memories of my mother and father, school, my grandfather, and more
importantly, now Sha're, Sam, Jack, Teal'c, and the SGC.
Memories now that more often that not, involve Janet. I don't know if it's
the fact she's become a trusted friend, after patching me up so many times- or
the way I can still hear her impassioned "Daniel!" when I surfaced for a brief
moment during that 'occupation' of my body. All I know is that Janet's was the
first face I saw- as it is so many times when I awake in the infirmary. It
gave me the courage to hold on and hang onto myself while my body was controlled
by others.
While those memories are still there, however, it gets harder and hard to
separate them from one of the many consciousnesses that still seem to linger.
I hate having to stop and think about whose memories I am remembering- and I
hate myself for feeling like that. Look at Sam. She has Jolinar's memories,
vague though they can be at times and we've all seen what they do to her. Jacob
has Selmac's thoughts and memories and unlike Sam, he has a living, breathing
symbiote that reminds him daily.
Sha're- well, I don't like to think of what she went through with Amonet. The
image still has the power to make my stomach turn as I remember my wife's
goodness and sweetness. Thankfully, that part of her will always be with me-
painful as it is to remember.
I know I should feel guilty for pitying myself when so many of those I love
have gone through, and are going through worse things daily. I am the lucky
one- I've survived every one of my experiences and returned to my body, my mind.
These 'possessions' have provided SG-1 with countless answers to solving
potentially deadly problems.
If asked, I would gladly give up my body and my mind- if it would save the
people I love. If it would save the planet that we fight so hard to defend.
Thankfully, it has not been asked of me yet, just taken without my consent.
But I fear for the day it will be asked.
I fear for the answer I will give.
~*~*~*~*~*~
End
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