Author's Notes: A sort of response to the h/c first person challenge...many first person pov's revolving around a single theme...
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).
Home...
Not a word I think about often. From early childhood onward, home was little more than the place where I'd finally sleep when my body crashed from too much work for too many hours. It's hard to remember a time when I had a real home...I'm not really sure I ever did. After I lost Sha're I thought I never would again.
But I do now...
Home is where my friends are. Without them, this place is just...a place.
Nine days...no word, no clue, no way of knowing if they lived or died after Thor's ship crashed into the ocean. Nine days of pure hell wondering if I'd ever hear Jack's lousy puns again or Sam's exuberant rapid-fire explanations or see Teal'c smile at all of our quirks in his ever-so minimalist way...
Between Doctor Fraiser's expected nagging and General Hammond's completely unexpected hovering...well, I never lacked for attention. They both conspired to make me eat and take it easy. They seemed to think I was overdoing things...I was fine, mostly...but they did it because they cared and it meant a lot to me. It helped...but nothing could keep my mind very far away from the nearly overwhelming fear that SG1 might never come home again.
They...whoever they might be...say that home is where the heart is, but they're wrong. Home is where your family is...be it a family by blood or by choice. Looking at Jack, Sam and Teal'c coming down the ramp...I can't seem to remember a definitive moment of choosing, yet the choice has been made.
My family, my home...
I wouldn't want it any other way.
Daniel Jackson looks well. He is still quite pale but looks quite...relieved. We have been away many days with no means of relating our survival. The uncertainty must have been very difficult. I see many things in his eyes, things he will not speak.
It is not necessary.
We know.
I see the softening in my teammates' eyes, the glistening traces of emotion impossible to express in words. We are together again. It is a moment perfect in its silent simplicity.
We are home.
O'Neill offers more of his strange words to lighten the moment. General Hammond responds in kind and I can see the heavy weight release itself from Daniel Jackson's eyes as he finally accepts we are real.
As we leave to shower before debriefing, I touch Daniel Jackson's arm in reassurance and am rewarded by a smile. Our young friend was sorely missed on this mission...we were all most aware of the loss of balance his absence created.
It is very good to be home again.
Daniel looks like he wants to laugh and cry at the same time...a few years ago he would have been. He's learned to hold it in more, but it still shows in his eyes. Right now his eyes are telling me just how scared he's been. The worry lines on his forehead tell me he was afraid we were dead. The tightness around the mouth speaks of lingering pain. The deep smudges under his eyes talk of too little sleep as he worked to maintain hope. I doubt he slept much at all...and then only if somebody made him. From the covert glances the general is giving Daniel...it's not hard to figure out who took on that job.
The colonel notices too...a quick appraisal and tightening of lips says he isn't very happy with what he sees. Back on the planet, the colonel called it right on the money...my money actually. I knew I shouldn't have made that bet. The colonel said Daniel would be worrying himself sicker than what he already was; I bet him that Janet would have Daniel tied down in the infirmary by now.
The general and Janet probably deserve the credit for the fact Daniel is still ambulatory. There's a distinctly paternal relief on the general's face as he and Daniel trade smiles while the colonel goes into his goofball routine.
Looks like it's been a tough week on both sides of the gate.
It's really good to be home.
SG1 is together again. I can almost hear the 'click' as they welcome one another back into the unique rapport they share. I'm glad we finally got the gate back up and running, I don't think Dr. Jackson could have maintained his remarkable tenacity much longer. The physical and mental strain was almost too much for a man recovering from surgery. Three days into his vigil, it suddenly struck me that the boy hadn't slept at all...at which point I exercised a little 'command prerogative'...blackmail in civilian terms. It worked...and if the military has taught me anything, it's that results are what matters. I think Dr. Jackson appreciates my motivation if not my tactics... and that's okay, too.
Colonel O'Neill expresses the need for a shower and I can't help but agree...emphatically...and Dr. Jackson plays straight man to perfection. The smile on his face is worth the breach of decorum.
SG1 has come home.
Daniel looks better now.
When we first stepped through I could see the pain around his eyes and mouth, the hard breathing like he'd been running...bet Janet hasn't cleared him for headlong rushes through the halls of SGC. He steadied out after a few minutes, his eyes going from dead-scared to pretty-darn-pleased.
Hope Carter remembers she owes me fifty bucks.
Funny how coming home never seems to get old, even funnier the places we come to see as home. I live in a house on the edge of Colorado Springs...my 'home' is a little harder to define...or not. Actually, it's pretty simple when I think about it.
Standing here at the bottom of the ramp, surrounded by SF's with guns, grey walls towering up to the control room where a dozen faces look down on us...it seems all too clear.
This is home...the only home that matters.