Author: Jeanine
Category: Sam/Daniel, Character Death.
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended
Archive: My own site, The Band Gazebo (www.oocities.org/helsinkibaby), Heliopolis, Stargate Saga, anywhere else, please ask.
Season: No specific one, but sometime in the future.
Spoilers: Vague references to "Fire and Water" "Enigma" "Pretense", all the Tok'ra episodes, and "Singularity"
Summary: Based on Heliopolis Challenge no. 1,122. Daniel falls into a coma. What will Sam's reaction be when Janet tells her that Danny is going to die?
Author's Notes: So, I've been away from Stargate fic for a while. Something to do with the lack of new episodes from Sky. And I decide to look at the Heliopolis challenges, because I haven't in a while. And this is the result. I have no idea where this piece crawled out from, and really don't want to revisit it, but I'm posting it anyway.

This can't be real.

This can't be happening.

Not to me. Not to us.

We've only just found each other. Only just admitted that what we feel for each other goes beyond simple friendship. We've gone through so much to get to this point - we've both lost family members, either one way or another, to the Goa'uld. We've lost friends, lost colleagues, travelled hundreds of thousands of light years away, been trapped underground, over ground and in space and we've always found a way out of it.

I honestly thought that the same thing would happen now. That we'd beat the odds, that the worst wouldn't happen, even though everyone here has been preparing themselves for it. Preparing me for it.

But this couldn't be happening to us. Because we're SG1. We beat the odds, that's the way it is, that's what we do. We do that for a living.

Except this time.

When Janet pulled me out of the infirmary, sat me down in her office, I thought she was going to give me a nice long lecture about lack of sleep, and not eating, and how I really should take care of myself because when you woke up, you were going to need me strong and healthy to help you get better. I even had points made up to refute her concern. I was all ready to open my mouth and steam right in there.

It was the look in her eyes that stopped me.

I've seen that look in her eyes before and it's never been good news.

I thought that she was going to tell me that there would be some permanent damage of some kind, something that would mean you couldn't be on SG1 anymore. But that was ok, that was fine, we could get through that.

But that's not what she told me.

She told me that you weren't going to get better.

That your brain wasn't working anymore and that it was only the machines that were keeping you alive.

I couldn't reconcile that with you. Your brain was one of the things that I loved most about you, how fast it worked, always leaping ahead, moving in quantum leaps of logic and theory, moving so fast that you couldn't keep up with it sometimes. You'd be leaning over the table, scribbling in your notepad, and we'd look at the words and it'd just be a scrawl on the page, but woe unto the person who tried to stop you writing until you'd got your thought down on that page. You wouldn't even hear them as they tried to speak to you, you'd just look up when you were good and ready and you'd blink and have this really innocent look on your face and you'd just ask, "What?" And I'd try not to smile, and the Colonel would be exasperated, and Teal'c would just raise an eyebrow.

And then Janet told me that she thought we should let you go.

There were tears in her eyes when she said it, but mine were dry. I should be used to letting things go. I've had plenty of practice after all. I let Mark go when he moved to the other side of the country. I let my dad go when he joined with Selmac. I let Narim go. I let Martouf go.

But how could I let you go? You were the one person that I could rely on totally, the one person that I knew would never desert me, because you'd let things go as well. You knew how badly it hurt, even when I didn't show it, because a good soldier never shows their emotions. You were the one person that I could turn to when things got bad, and I knew that you'd be there to talk or to hold me or to listen to me. You were the one person that I trusted absolutely, with my life, and you knew all about me, all the things that I'd never told or shown anyone else, and you accepted them all. And loved me anyway.

I can count on the fingers of one hand the times I've cried since being assigned to SG1. One was when we lost you before. We were convinced you were dead, we even held a wake. But you weren't, you were just being held prisoner by Nem, and we recovered our memories and we got you back.

Another time was when we found Cassandra and we were so sure that she was going to die. I was watching her sleep, and you came in, sneaking up behind me quietly, like you always did. I was trying so hard not to cry, and you were shocked that I thought I had to be that strong. You let me know that you didn't mind my tears and you comforted me.

I never knew the meaning of the word surreal before today. Oh, I knew the dictionary definition; I could have explained the meaning. But I never knew what it truly meant. It's surreal to be standing here now, at the foot of your bed, the Colonel on one side of me, General Hammond on the other. Teal'c is standing beside Jack and Janet is beside the machines.

There are so many machines around you, all hooked up to you, keeping you alive. I'm looking at the one that shows your heart beating. I can see that the beat is steady and strong - just like the man. You have a good heart, the best that I've ever known I think. There were nights that I woke up and saw you sleeping beside me, and I would curl up and rest my head on your chest so that my ear was right over your heart, and that steady strong beat was my lullaby, rocking me back to sleep. I was looking forward to years of that.

I keep expecting you to wake up. Even with the machines and the tubes and the lines, I'm still waiting for you to wake up. They warned me the first time that I came to see you that I might be frightened by how you looked. Don't be afraid of the machines they told me. They're just doing their job, helping him to get well. But I wasn't afraid, could never be afraid. Even with the machines, it was still you. How could I ever be afraid of you? So I sat and I talked and I waited for those beautiful blue eyes to look up at me and waited to hear you complain that everything was fuzzy without your glasses. I'd give anything to hear you complain about your terrible eyesight.

Janet says something to a nurse that's standing on the other side of you, and then she reaches out and flicks a switch, then another. One by one, all the machines are switched off until the one that I'm looking at, the heart monitor, is the only one left. The line goes from wavy to flat, and a high pitched keening noise breaks the silence of the infirmary. I'm almost afraid that it's me, but I know that it's only the machine. Janet flicks that one off too, and there's quiet once more.

I look at you, and I'm still not afraid. Not of you. I'm afraid of the future without you. I'm afraid of waking up alone. I'm afraid of going home tonight and seeing all your belongings there, waiting for you. I'm afraid of the first time that I come back into the base and see all the places where you've been. I'm afraid of walking into your office and seeing someone else there. I'm afraid of the first time I go through the Stargate and I'll look around for you and you won't be there.

In front of me, something splashes on the bedclothes and I realise that tears are running down my cheeks freely. A good soldier never cries, I remind myself, and I'm being very quiet and discreet about it all, but I can't stop these tears.

I'm obviously not discreet enough, because the Colonel puts his arm around me and tries to pull me into a hug. I try not to register the hurt look on his face when I pull away, putting some distance between the two of us. I can't do this now, can't let him comfort me like this.

I've only ever let one man do that, and he's gone.