This wasn’t right. The sun shouldn’t be shining. The flowers shouldn’t be blooming. There shouldn’t be the an echo of a child’s laughter in the wind. Nor the quiet murmurings of voices, whispered condolences. Jack scowled at the group of men and women shuffling their feet behind him. The scholars were uneasy at being there. And so you friggin’ should be. You didn’t support him before, don’t friggin’ start now when it means crap all.

"Jack." He felt Sam’s hand squeeze his. "Stop glaring."

"Why?" he growled. "They’re a bunch of hypocrites. They don’t deserve to be here. He…" Jack had to swallow the lump in his throat. "He deserves better than this."

"Do you wish me to remove them, O’Neill?" Teal’c was standing by his side and sent a look at the unwanted people that had many of them taking a step back.

"Stop it," Sam hissed.

"Don’t you just want to rub it in their faces?" Janet whispered, taking her place at the front next to them.

"You too?" Sam couldn’t stop her eye roll. "Remember why we are here, not them."

Which brought Jack back to his original thought. This day was too chirpy…too sunny...too normal. It wasn’t right! And yet at the same time it was. He knew that his best friend was finally happy. Jack felt like he’d had his heart sliced open, but Daniel was happy. Happy, happy, happy…he kept repeating it in his head. It made the constant hollow ache he’d had for days a little easier to bear. If truth be told, figuratively speaking, the hole in his heart had been there for months. It had been a sharp unexpected wound that had never been given the chance to heal, and now today, Jack knew it never would.

Jack pretended he was listening to one of Daniel’s briefings. In other words he tuned out the words of the man speaking. He didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to listen, for that would mean having to face facts. And, nope, he wasn’t quite ready to do that. And just like Daniel, this man managed to make a few key words penetrate the haze of his self-protective daydreaming.

"…And now we lay Doctor Daniel Jackson to rest, next to his wife whom he loved so much. Daniel and Annika’s love for one another was truly a wonderful thing to bear witness to, and we can take solace in the knowledge that Daniel is once again reunited with His Angel…"

Jack’s eyes blurred as they lowered the coffin that held the remains of his best friend into the ground. There had been no glowy jellyfish-thing this time. No scrap of hope that one day they would stumble across a man named Arrom without his memory, with Daniel’s face. Oma hadn’t stepped in, although Daniel would have learned to Ascend all by himself if he had wanted to. There had been a flicker of purple light reflected in his blue eyes when he breathed his last breath. Jack was sure he hadn’t imagined it. Though he didn’t believe in ghosts, he believed that Casper’s soul had come to spirit him away to wherever soul mates go to be together when their bodies died.

Sam sniffed beside him and he wrapped an arm around her, not giving a shit about maintaining the formality expected of him as a Colonel in the Air Force. He may be wearing his dress blues but right at this moment he was a man burying his best friend. And dammit, Daniel hadn’t been formal. He wouldn’t have wanted all this pomp and ceremony. Would have much preferred to have all the expense of his funeral donated to some archaeological dig in the middle of nowhere.

There was the sound of a car door closing and Jack’s eyes flickered across the green. Hell, no! No way in hell am I going to let that slime ball grandstand at Daniel’s funeral.

"Chaplain, hold that thought." The colonel strode across the grass. Sam and Teal’c were right by his side, General Hammond and Janet barely a step behind.

"Kinsey, get your yellow-livered ass back in your car right now."

"Now, Colonel, I’ve only come to pay my respects."

"If it wasn’t for you, this wouldn’t be happening."

"Colonel, you can’t blame me for what transpired." Kinsey was deliberately obtuse. "You and Doctor Fraiser were the ones to withdraw medical treatment after Jackson’s reckless heroics."

Rage engulfed Jack and without thought he raised his fist, wanting to smash the smirk off the senator’s face, regardless of the consequences.

Teal’c’s hand closed over his wrist. "O’Neill, you will be court martialed." In one fluid move the Jaffa’s other hand shot out, planting a punch squarely on the senator’s nose.

Kinsey stumbled back, clutching his face, blood spurting through his fingers. "Oh, you’re going to pay for that," he threatened.

"I don’t think so, Senator." Hammond’s voice was cold.

"There are over a hundred witnesses who saw that man assault me."

"There are over a hundred witnesses who will testify that you tripped," Sam contradicted.

"Let me give you a hand, seeing as you’re so unsteady on your feet." Jack firmly gripped the man’s arm and propelled him backwards.

The senator’s driver scampered to the passenger side door and flung it open before his boss was thrown against the car.

"Watch your head, Kinsey," Jack snarled, pushing the man down, getting a spurt of satisfaction at the resounding crack of skull against the metal frame. "Oops, sorry." He slammed the door shut.

The driver took one look at the colonel’s livid face and the glaring posse behind him and jumped back behind the wheel, peeling out of the graveyard with as much dignity as he could muster.

Jack turned back to the SGC personnel and made a show of brushing his hands together. "And that’s that."

With satisfied smirks they resumed their positions around the lowered mahogany coffin.

Lya had prepared Daniel’s body in the tradition of the Abydonian people. It didn’t really surprise anyone that she had known of the intricate ritual involved. Considering the Nox were one quarter of the Alliance of the Great Races, it made sense that they would converse with the other members, including the Ancients who were now the Ascended. Jack absently wondered what Kasuf and Skaara were making of their existence as all-powerful jellyfish. Beneath the solid wood paneling of the coffin, Daniel had been carefully wrapped in a shroud, trinkets of good luck for the afterlife placed in specific areas within the folds of cloth. Jack couldn’t think of a better way for his friend to be interred. Daniel had lived and breathed the Egyptian culture and mythology for most of his life. It was fitting that he take this last journey in the custom of his adopted people.

Jack saw that Janet’s face had drained of color, her eyes tinged with guilt, and he knew Kinsey’s snide comment had hit a nerve. "Hey," he caught her smaller hand in his. "We did the right thing."

Her fingers wrapped tightly around his. "Doesn’t make it any easier."

The image of that moment three days ago flashed before Jack’s eyes. Of Daniel bleeding from a bullet wound in the chest. An injury that he had received saving a child monarch off-world who’d been the target of an assassination attempt. Of Janet trying desperately to stop the blood flow long enough to get him back to the SGC for surgery. Having those blue eyes gaze up at them both and Daniel’s voice pleading, yet with a quiet dignity. "Please, let me go. Let me be with My Angel." For the second time Jack heeded his best friend’s dying wish. Sat by his side as his last breath slipped from his body. Though this time there had been no bandages to cover the grateful smile on Daniel’s lips.

The rest of the service was finished without further interruption. As they all started to disperse to their cars, Jack’s eyes narrowed on the unwanted academics clustered off to one side. In a loud voice he announced to everyone else, "For those of you who are friends of Daniel, I don’t need to tell ya’ll where the wake will be." He pointedly looked at the scholars daring any one of them to ask for more details.

None of them took him up on the offer.

Hammond watched them scurry away and he let out a resigned sigh. "Was that really necessary, Colonel?"

Jack’s face was the picture of innocence but before he could give a flip reply Teal’c butted in.

"Indeed it was, General Hammond."

The commander took in the slightly mutinous expressions and head nods of the rest of his staff and let it slide.

Daniel’s wake was being held at the SGC, on the second floor so the few people without security clearance could attend. It was an hour into the quiet mingling when Janet was paged to one of the internal phones. When she returned it was clear from her face that the news hadn’t been good.

"What’s happened?" Sam asked.

The doctor’s eyes were troubled. "I’ve just received word from Doctor MacKenzie."

The three members of SG-1 exchanged glances, recognizing the name of the psychiatrist who worked at the base’s associated mental health facility.

"He’s had to place Major Ferretti under suicide watch."

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. "Was not Major Ferretti making progress in recent weeks?"

"He had been," Janet confirmed. "Since Daniel’s visit last month reassuring him that he didn’t hold him responsible, he seemed much better."

"So what happened?" Jack demanded.

"The major overheard one of the orderlies mention Daniel’s death. A half hour ago they found him in his room." Her voice was pained. "He tried to hang himself."

A solemn silence descended around the four friends. It had been months since the disaster and still they were feeling the repercussions. The damage had physically been repaired, but the emotional fallout would take much longer to heal, if it ever would.

With heavy hearts they let themselves be drawn into the conversations of their colleagues circulating around them.

A  A  A  A  A  A

Sam looked up from speaking with Siler, her eyes scanning the room for her lover. Daniel’s death had shattered pretty much everyone in the room, herself included, but none more so than Jack. Those two had shared an extraordinary friendship that had defied the odds of their chalk and cheese personalities. In a lot of ways it was even closer than Jack and herself. There were some things that Jack wouldn’t or couldn’t share with her but had been able to tell his best friend. She had never been jealous of that, had in fact been grateful that Jack had someone with whom he could work through whatever demons plagued him.

She didn’t see him anywhere in the room. Excusing herself, she first stopped off at the buffet table and carefully selected three specific items. Wrapping them in a napkin she headed for the elevator, knowing precisely where her colonel had gone. When the doors slid open on level twenty-six she slowly approached the office and peeked around the doorway.

Jack was sitting on top of the large work table in the center of the room, absently rolling an odd looking stone rod back and forth across the wooden top with one hand, nursing a steaming cup of black coffee with the other.

"Thought I’d find you here," she said softly, perching herself next to him.

"You know me, I’m not one for small talk." He gave her a sad lopsided smile, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Considering this is the third wake we’ve had for Daniel, ya’d think I’d have the chitchat down pat."

Sam snaked her arm around his waist, leaning into him. She wasn’t fooled by the sarcastic quip. Humor was usually how they dealt with the serious subjects. "It is getting a bit repetitive."

They sat quietly for a few moments, taking comfort in not only each other’s support, but in being in the room where their friend had spent the majority of his working life. Over the years Daniel’s office had become their unofficial meeting place. It had started out as a way to make sure the archaeologist actually made it to the briefings, since his ability to lose track of time was legendary. There were a lot of memories created in this room. Good, bad, serious and funny, this room had seen it all.

Well, not this room itself, Jack mentally corrected. Daniel's office had been shifted from the eighteenth level since before Christmas, but the set up was the same. Daniel had had a system that Jack had long ago given up trying to work out, and had rearranged his new office so it was almost an exact replica of the one he'd vacated. Jack didn't envy the poor sod who would have to make sense of Daniel's filing system. As yet not a thing had been touched, and it was so typically 'Daniel' that it made Jack smile even as it made his heart ache. Desk spilling over with books and scrolls and tablets. Pen still resting on the open page of a notebook he'd been writing in before that last mission, his favorite coffee cup beside it. Even a BDU shirt he'd discarded at some point was scrunched between the arm and back of his office chair.

"I still keep expecting him to walk around the corner all passionate about a new translation," Sam admitted.

"With his arms laden with rocks, and glasses falling off his nose," Jack added with a hint of a smile.

"And coffee mug balanced precariously on top."

The couple looked up to see Teal’c in the doorway.

"Run out of small talk too, T?"

The Jaffa nodded, taking a seat in what had been Daniel’s chair. "I felt in need of some peace and solitude after the yabbering of the guests above."

"Yabbering?" Sam grinned at the slang from her usually phonetically stoic friend.

"A term Annika Jackson taught me. It seemed appropriate."

Jack sipped the coffee and grimaced. "Jeez, I don’t know how Daniel could drink it this way."

"Here, may be this will help with the taste." Sam reached into her pocket and pulled out the food laden napkin. She peeled back the paper to reveal three chocolate-walnut cookies.

"Or perhaps these will satisfy your taste buds, O’Neill." Teal’c produced a handful of Fifth Avenue bars.

The three friends exchanged smiles. They had the makings of an impromptu ‘Howdy-do’. None of them had discussed it, but they all seemed to be on the same wave length, gathering the prerequisites for the quirky ‘ritual’ Annika had introduced them to on Christmas Eve. Despite the rawness of their grief they wanted to do this, to talk to Daniel’s spirit.

"Sweet!" Jack passed the cup to Sam and broke off a piece of cookie, then reached for a chocolate bar.

"Indeed, they are, O’Neill."

Jack rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Danny, I’m sorry, but I must have words with your wife. Her bad influence has turned T into a smartass."

"Do not believe him, Daniel Jackson," Teal’c replied. "I have always been a witling."

Sam chuckled. "Of course you have." It came out dryly sarcastic.

"It appears that you, Major Carter, have been unduly influenced by O’Neill." The Jaffa gingerly took a sip of the strong coffee being passed around, then quickly washed it down with a bite of cookie.

"Hey, Daniel?" Jack singsonged. "Just so ya’ know, I’ll eat your favorite foods and drink your rotgut coffee, but I draw the line at futzing with a stack of moldy rocks."

"Um…Jack, you kind of already have." Sam used her half eaten chocolate bar to point at the rod he’d been rolling about when she arrived.

The colonel looked down at the stone piece in surprise. He hadn’t even realized he’d been playing with it. "So I have." He began sliding it back and forth again.

"I believe it is a fertility implement." Teal’c’s voice was typically neutral in his opinion, and Jack missed the amused glint in his eyes.

Jack’s hand froze as really studied the ‘rock’ for the first time. It was approximately half a foot long and two inches wide, with a bulbous knob on top. The length was decorated with a recurring ridge pattern. "Please tell me that I’m not fiddling with a caveman version of a dildo."

Sam and Teal’c were pretty certain that it wasn’t an actual sexual tool in spite of the phallic symbol it clearly represented, however it was just too tempting an idea for them not to torment their team leader with.

"Ritual orgies were commonplace in ceremonies to appease the gods," Teal’c supplied.

"Sam?" It was a strangled plea.

"What do you think, Daniel?" Sam tilted her head skywards to ask their archaeologist’s expert opinion. "I wouldn’t have thought so either…"

Jack started rolling it again with a sigh of relief.

"…The detail is too advanced for prehistoric man. More likely it was Egyptian or Ancient Greek, they were much more sexually liberated and adventurous than cavemen."

"For cryin’ out loud!" Jack snatched his hand away and wiped off any ‘residue’ against Sam’s dress blues. "Daniel, you planned that on purpose," he grumbled to the surrounding air.

Sam and Teal’c couldn’t stop their laughter and continued to tease the colonel mercilessly, making sure to involve the spirit of their friend at every opportunity.

General Hammond paused in the corridor listening to his primary team. It hadn’t been all that difficult to work out where they had retreated to. The wake was more for the benefit of the rest of the personnel. SG-1 had their own way of dealing with the loss of one of their own, of saying goodbye. Though from the sound of it, they weren’t saying farewell at all. Were they talking to Doctor Jackson? For a heart stopping moment he was concerned for their mental state. Talking about Daniel in the first person, like he was really there, was not healthy. If they hadn’t accepted that he was dead… The thought was cut off as the laughter died, then after a few seconds of silence, Sam’s voice softly began describing the funeral. When her throat closed up, Jack picked up where she’d left off, then Teal’c added his interpretation of when Kinsey showed up. He could hear the occasional sniff from the major and the sorrow in the men’s tone. Hammond laid his fears for their mental stability to rest. He may not understand precisely what was going on in Doctor Jackson’s office, but he was satisfied they were not in denial. He stepped into the open doorway, giving a light rap of his knuckles on the door. He didn’t want to interrupt, but he had a bit of a situation forming in the ‘gate room and unfortunately only SG-1 could help.

"Howdy-do, General." The colonel looked up at the knock, as did the others.

"I’m glad to find you all together," he began. "We have a situation. I need you to come down to the ‘gate room."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him in disbelief. Today of all days they couldn’t possibly be required to work.

"You’re joking, right sir?" Sam hastily wiped a hand over her cheeks to remove the wet trails of tears.

"Oh, I wish I was."

"Ya’ know there are twenty-four other teams that wear the SG patch?" Jack didn’t even try to hide his irritability, not particularly caring that he was being insubordinate. However he was already sliding to his feet, with Sam and Teal’c only a hair’s breath slower than him.

"I know that, Jack," Hammond deliberately used his first name indicating that it wasn’t an official request. "But we have a few visitors who have requested to see you all."

The four of them started for the elevator.

"We’re not exactly up to being social butterflies today, sir," Jack thought it prudent to remind his CO.

"These people aren’t expecting you to be."

They exchanged glances over the shorter man’s bald head.

"Please explain, General Hammond."

The lift pinged its arrival and they all stepped in.

"For the last hour we have averaged about two wormhole activations per minute." He paused and the major butted in.

"A malfunction, sir?"

"No, Sam. Each time we have received IDCs of friendly planets we have made contact with. We’ve allowed the people to come through."

The lift doors opened and Hammond gestured for them to first make their way to the control room.

"Is such a course of action wise, General Hammond?" Teal’c enquired.

"In this case, yes, I believe it is."

As they climbed the metal stairway that was only a few meters from the open entrance of the ‘gate room, the soft rumble of many voices greeted their ears. Now intensely curious they immediately looked through the viewing window and their mouths dropped open in astonishment.

"It seems that word of Doctor Jackson’s death has spread quickly around the galaxy." The general wore a poignant smile. "They have come to pay their respects."

Below them the ‘gate room was filled with over a hundred people. Most they recognized but there were a few unfamiliar faces, after all Daniel had been loaned out quite a few times over the years. Gazing out at the sea of faces they began to mentally tick off who was there, some standing out more than the others. Princess Shyla, La Moor of Madrona, Toané the Salish Indian, Eliam of Enkara, Gairwyn from Cimmeria, Marul of Latona, Namadu of Vis Uban…

"Is that Nem?" Sam asked spying the aquatic creature who was the sole survivor of his race standing to the side of the ramp.

"I believe so, Major Carter." Teal’c had just spied Chaka who was warily being watched by the SG personnel trying to keep a semblance of order in the jam-packed room.

"The briefing room is just as crowded," Hammond added quietly.

There was a quiet clearing of a throat and they turned to see Jonas at the top of the stairwell. He’d been allowed upstairs because of his previous association with the SGC.

He gave them a sad smile in greeting, happy to see his friends despite the circumstances. "You know, it was the strangest thing," he said, leaning against the rail. "Last night as I was just drifting off to sleep a bright white light appeared above my bed and a woman’s voice told me that Daniel had died. I asked around at the crowd down there and they all experienced the same thing."

"Oma?" Sam asked.

"Pretty sure it was," the Kelownan confirmed.

Jack’s attention was drawn back to the mass of people and he couldn’t help but start a new tally in his head. He began counting off the species that without Daniel’s intervention he would have gladly given up on or worse opened fire on. Every person down there was testament to the compassionate, endlessly curious, eternally optimistic man who had been his best friend. "Are you seeing this, Space Monkey?" he whispered. Are you seeing how many lives you touched? How many worlds you made a difference on?

With Sam’s hand tucked into his right hand and Teal’c’s solid presence on his left, Jack headed down to be with the people who had had their lives changed for the better because Daniel Jackson had crossed their path.

A  A  A  A  A  A

General Hammond accepted the plain white envelope Jack handed to him. He knew what was inside without reading it. Had already received a similar one from Major Carter. Teal’c was cleaning out his quarters, intending to join Bra’tac and the Jaffa rebellion on a permanent basis. "I won’t try to talk you out of it."

"Thank you, sir."

"What are your plans?"

Jack took a seat, his pose deliberately nonchalant. "Well, sir, Sam and I were hoping to retire off-world. There’s nothing keeping us here anymore. We’ll planet hop for a bit and then find us a nice quiet place to set up house."

"You don’t think you’ll get bored?"

"A bit of boredom is sounding pretty good around about now," he sighed. "And Thor has offered to keep Carter amused with gizmos when her fingers start to itch."

The base commander outlined the crisp edge of the stationery, studying his 2IC. "I was hoping that you’d delay this for SG-1 to undertake one last mission."

Jack shook his head. "That is effective immediately."

"It’s not official until I process the paperwork."

The colonel’s expression turned to one of disbelief. "Please, don’t play that game with me, sir. We did what was asked for us. Time and time again we put our asses on the line but this time the cost has been too high. I’ve had enough…we’ve had enough."

"Perhaps I should have called it a project, rather than a mission."

"Pot-ahto, pot-aetoe, sir."

Hammond ignored the flip remark. "At the end of February, Lya approached me with the idea of establishing a retreat on an uninhabited planet…"

In spite himself the colonel’s interest was tweaked.

"…The plans took a back seat with everything that has happened, but she came yesterday to see if we were still interested."

"Retreat, sir?"

"A place for people of any race or species to put aside the battles they’re fighting, both physically and emotionally. She knows of the secrecy of our Stargate program and that as such we have nowhere our personnel can speak freely outside the SGC about their experiences. She thought we might help with the construction of the facility."

"You know how I feel about all that cluck like dog, bark like a chicken crap, sir."

Well, at least he hadn’t flatly refused the assignment, Hammond thought. "There won’t be any psychiatrists or psychologists, Jack. It’ll be primarily run by the Nox themselves."

Jack was silent for a few moments, taking in the idea. "Why do they want our help? Can’t they just…" he waggled his fingers about indicating their ‘magical’ abilities.

"As you know the Nox are a very secretive race. They haven’t had much contact with other species and Lya would like our insight into the types of accommodation that would be most suitable for the guests. They’d also like for us to help spread the word once it’s set up."

"Have the Nox suddenly had a personality change?"

"Colonel?"

"Well, sir, excluding Lya, they’re a touch ‘xylophonic’…"

The general automatically translated the term to ‘xenophobic’.

"…What’s making them take an interest in the rest of the galaxy now?"

"Actually it’s only Lya’s clan who will be participating. Their contact with Annika and Doctor Jackson…and with the rest of SG-1," he conceded, "made them curious."

The colonel’s lips tweaked. "Who da’ thunk Lya would lead a rebellion?" The mere idea of the passive Nox doing any such thing made both men smile.

"For the most part the retreat would be for short term stays," the general paused, keeping his face blank. "However since it would only take up a small area of the planet, there would be plenty of space for anyone who wanted to stay on a more permanent basis."

The only acknowledgement Jack made of the veiled suggestion was to tap his fingers in a repetitive cascade motion on the armrest of his chair, and Hammond played his final hand. "Annika and Doctor Jackson were already working on finding a suitable planet before…well, before."

"This was going to be their pet project, huh?" It didn’t surprise Jack that those two had embraced the idea. Both had dedicated their lives to helping people. Daniel had always been the one to try and save everyone without thought to his own personal safety. Hell, the man had been injured more times than he could count and had died at least a half a dozen times because of his instinctive compulsion to help, this final time included. And Annika, in the short time she’d been at the SGC, had saved everyone on base at least once due to her premonitions. It had torn both of them up when the Fates stepped in and foiled their attempts.

"They’d narrowed it down to five possible locations."

Oh, Hammond is good, I have to give him that. He knew that Jack and the surviving members of SG-1 wouldn’t be able to say no to this particular last mission. "Let me talk it over with Sam and Teal’c, sir?"

Hammond nodded. He couldn’t nor wouldn’t order them to do this, but he knew them like his own children. They’d do it, and hopefully working side by side with the empathic Nox, would unwittingly become the first guests of the retreat.

Jack rose to leave but paused in the doorway. "General, I don’t suppose any of these planets have a lake?"

"I believe a lake was one of the prerequisites Lya stipulated."

"Sweet."