Roses in December, by Rheanna (PG)

[figs_sg1_rec]

Rec Category: Gen

Characters: Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, Teal'c
Category: Team, Jack and Daniel Friendship, Character Study, Drama, Angst
Warning: Emotional whumpage
Author on LJ: rheanna27
Author's Website: Palimpest
Link: Roses in December

Why This Must Be Read: This story, set sometime in the first two seasons, is that most exquisite of treats: a real team fic, with everyone working together to come to a solution.

SG-1 is busy exploring an intriguing, dying world when Jack begins to suffer from amnesia, losing the memory of his earlier years. As the memory loss both deteriorates and accelerates, SG-1 tries to find the cause as well as the solution. The Jack O'Neill they know is quickly vanishing. What will convince this sudden stranger to help them get Jack back?

I love this story for its team dynamics, as each member of SG-1, including Jack himself, show unflagging moral courage in getting to a solution.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Daniel nodded.

"Don't panic or anything... but where do I know you from?"

"Abydos. Do you remember Abydos?"

Jack shook his head. "Tell me about it."

"I, uh... Hot planet. At least, the part we were in. It was the first trip through the Gate. We met the locals, made a few friends, killed their deity, that sort of thing."

"Sounds like a blast."

"It was." Daniel rocked back and forth on his heels. "Jack, are you..."

"I'm scared, Daniel. At this point, I'm getting scared." He rubbed at the side of his neck, fingers locating the small, hard lump which nestled behind his ear. He was tempted to dig it out with his nails, and damn the consequences. "I should have taken you up on that offer."

"There's still time."

"Not enough." He took a deep breath. "There are things I want remembered, by somebody. Listen. This is important. I want to tell you..."

The way her skin smelt. The feel of her hair under his fingers.

A child, bleeding on the carpet.

A rainy day, a small coffin lowered into the earth, a woman crying beside him.

A feeling of sadness, drifting, unmoored, like an iceberg in his heart.

And then the pain faded, even as he fought to hold on to it, and he was left with something, or rather a lack of something, which was far more frightening. The dull ache of longing which he had carried with him for so long, which he knew was a part of himself, was gone, and he was left with only blank emptiness within. He shut his eyes, struggling to regain it, but the effort was futile. Something which had defined him was gone, and he did not know what it was.

"What have you lost?"

He opened his eyes again, and found himself in a cold, dark cave, sitting on hard, damp ground. The man who had spoken to him was resting a hand on his shoulder, and there was an expression of sorrow in his eyes which Jack could not fathom.

"Who are you?" he asked.