The White Feather

by Jb

Well, it’s all done with now. It’s over.

As I watch the Abydonians slowly gravitate toward Daniel and Kasuf, I hear a slight noise at my side and turn to see Carter quickly wipe her hand across her cheek. She gives me a forlorn smile and bows her head low. I can’t help but agree with her; the sand at our feet is as good a place as any to be looking right about now.

I sure don’t want to look at what lays in the ground a few paces forward of us, and watching as these gentle people encircle my Danny – their soft touches on his arms, his chest, his face saying much more than words ever could – makes me feel almost like an intruder. Their shared grief is almost oppressive; their shared intimacy heightened by the native robes Danny wears and by the melodious lilt of the language he speaks.

I feel like an outsider. I don’t belong here.

Belong… here. I feel my heart tighten painfully as I think those words, but I’m not sure why. This is done with now and I suddenly, inexplicably, feel like I need to scoop Danny up and sprint for the Stargate, as fast as I can.

Kasuf is speaking to Daniel; their heads are bent together and I see the older man place his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. From where I’m standing it seems to me to be a compassionate gesture… No, it’s more than that. It’s fatherly. Daniel is tilting his head even closer to the old man, and just as Daniel suddenly dips his chin and allows his forehead to come to rest on Kasuf’s shoulder I have to look away.

Somehow, seeing that hurts me more than anything else has in this whole tragic thing.

But I’m not sure why.

To distract myself, I turn to Carter. General Hammond and Doc Fraiser are milling around behind Carter; they all look a bit uncomfortable but from the looks of it, maybe not as bad as I feel because at least they’re moving around. I feel like if I try to take a single step, my legs will melt out from under me and I’ll end up at the bottom of the burial pit.

"Carter…"

She turns to look at me, and I can see the glimmer of wetness in her eyes. So I guess maybe she needs the distraction as much as I do. I lean my head toward her, dropping my voice to a whisper.

"So, tell me… just what is it with this feather thing?"

She smiles at me, not quite as faintly as before but it’s still a pretty sad look nevertheless. "Daniel told me before we started, that it’s part of an ancient Egyptian burial ritual which ensures that the soul of the departed can live happily in the afterlife. The feather is the symbol of Ma’at, who was the Egyptian goddess of truth and judgment."

Janet Fraiser’s head tips in to my left and she adds her two cents worth. "Apparently, according to Daniel, the soul… or maybe it’s the heart, I can’t remember… can be weighed against the weight of the feather. It’s kind of like judging the value of the life of the deceased, and their worthiness."

How do they know this stuff… when did he tell them that? Since Sha’uri died, I haven’t had two words with him. I guess I just didn’t know what to say, or how or when to even try. It’s pretty clear that they must have figured that out, though. Suddenly I feel even more isolated than ever.

Some distraction that turned out to be.

He just called me ‘my son", and in a tone which I’ve never heard from him before.

Kasuf is the ultimate patriarch; he’s the leader of his people and there’s a specific persona attached to that position. In all the time I lived on Abydos he was fair and impartial toward me, giving me his respect and his ear but never the open love he demonstrated, in the privacy of his own home, for his children, Sha’uri and Skaara.

He’s called me his son before, of course, but generally as a passing reference or an acknowledgment of my relationship with Sha’uri; kind of like, you’re-the-husband-of-my-daughter-so-that-makes-you-my-son, kind of thing. This… is different.

"My Son…" he’s saying it again. I wait, but there’s nothing else, just those two words. There’s something that sounds like affection in his voice and a hint of what might be tears in his eyes as he says it… and I just can’t handle that revelation right now. There’s a sudden lump in my throat and my own eyes are stinging, and before I even know I’m doing it my forehead is resting on his shoulder.

"I would have you… perhaps you…" He clears his throat. I’m surprised. I’ve never seen Kasuf at a loss for words before. I raise my head slowly, hesitant to let him see the moisture that has leaked out and is visible on my cheeks. Kasuf has never been one to engage in overt expressions of painful emotion – in other words, open weeping in public – and I was always careful to try to keep my own displays of passion within what I saw as his carefully maintained boundaries. I sure don’t want to lose his respect now.

But he simply raises a hand and carefully wipes the tear from my cheek, and oh god my chest feels like it will burst open, messily spilling all of my pain and sorrow.

"You did truly love my Sha’uri." His hand pauses, then cups my face. I simply nod at first, speechless in my grief and my surprise at this demonstration of affection for me. Then I find my voice.

"Good Father, I still do. I will always love Sha’uri." My dam breaks; the tears fall swiftly now and I lower my eyes, unable to look at him.

Kasuf raises his other hand and takes my face in a gentle two-handed embrace, tilting my head up so that he can meet my eyes with his. "My Son, you are my family. This is your home; I would have you stay here."

"Stay here with me."

We have got to go. Not so much because there’s something urgent to attend to back on Earth, or because these people can’t wait to get rid of us – just the opposite, in fact – or because General Hammond has really suffered in this heat and could really use a good shower and a dose of Right-Guard… but because if I stay here one minute longer I think I might just lose control over the accelerating need to vent my anger.

At least I think that’s what it is I’m feeling… anger. Sure seems like it; there’s a constant pressure in my chest, my guts do a flip every few minutes, I feel like yelling at anyone who crosses my path, and adrenaline is simply oozing out my skin. So, I guess I’m angry.

But I don’t know why.

All I know for certain is that I need to find Daniel and we need to go. I’ve already bullied the rest of them along, and everyone is getting ready to head over to the Stargate. There’s just the good-byes left to do, and if I can find Daniel and haul him over there right now, we can get that done with and be on our way.

Kasuf’s stiff formality with me, when I asked him if he knew where Daniel was, still worries me. For the millionth time in two days, I wonder if he blames us – me – for Sha’uri and Skaara’s abduction by Apophis... and, by extension, for Sha’uri’s death.

There he is… sitting on that far dune over there. Just where Kasuf said he’d be. I’m almost hesitant to approach; Daniel’s huddled posture and the very choice of where he’s settled makes it clear that this is a man who wants to be alone right now. But we really do have to go.

"Hey, Daniel." He turns his head to look up at me. I can’t see his eyes because he’s wearing those impenetrably dark clip-on sunglasses, but I guess I don’t need to see his eyes to know that he’s suffering.

"Hey, Jack."

Somehow I don’t have the heart – or is it the courage that I’m suddenly lacking – to just say the polite equivalent of ‘hey c’mon Daniel let’s get the hell outa here’… despite the fact that for some reason my whole body is screaming at me to just grab the guy and take off at a dead run. Standing next to Daniel, watching him sitting in the sand absently toying with the white feather he’s holding, I feel my tension notching steadily upwards until I’m almost in a full rage.

And I don’t know why the hell I’m feeling this way.

Okay. A distraction… before I scream. I sink down to the ground, and wriggle my butt into the soft, sun-warmed sand. The heat and the way the sand gives way underneath me and molds in shape to envelope and support me feels good; almost comforting. I look up to find a ghost of a smile on Daniel’s face as we watches me nestle in beside him.

"Comfortable, isn’t it?"

"Yeah." My mind races, looking for something to say to him. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell him I’m sorry, so very very sorry, about Sha’uri; to tell him that my heart is breaking for him, that I’d give anything – do anything – to take his pain away. But what comes out of my mouth is anything but that, and a big surprise to me… I hear myself saying it and immediately want to take it back.

"So… what’s with the feather?"  God, I’m such a moron.

He just smiles at me, though. "Jack, it’s okay. I understand."

Oh shit. I can feel my mouth opening and closing, like a fish out of water. I find myself mumbling at him, "Sorry, Danny."

"Hey, it’s okay. So do you really want to know about the feather?" He holds it up to the slight breeze, a long white crescent of softly wavering tendrils. I try a smile, hoping it doesn’t look too much like a grimace.

"Okay… well…" I can see and feel him settling into what I call his ‘lecture-mode’, and although usually I dread that, today it seems like a pretty safe haven.

"In many ways, Abydos is an embodiment of Ancient Egypt. Culturally, I mean. Religiously, we kinda interfered when we showed them that Ra was not what they thought he was. They’re slowly picking and choosing what parts of their religion they want to lose and what parts they want to keep, but they still follow a lot of the basic rituals which went along with it."

His tone changes; becomes soft and pensive. "Some of the best rituals…"

He brings the feather down to his lap, and strokes it carefully along it’s length. Then he glances at me and he’s abruptly back to the lecture. "In ancient Egypt, Ma’at was the goddess of truth and justice. She was considered to be the first emanation of Ra, and was the patroness of the magistrates and court officials."

"So she was kind of like, the U.S. Supreme Court?"

Daniel takes off his glasses and gives me an amused look. I can’t help but notice how red his eyes are.

"Sort of… when we translate old inscriptions, the writing ‘priest of Ma’at’ gets interpreted as ‘judge’.  Anyway, the symbol of Ma’at is a single white feather…" He holds it up again. "… an ostrich feather; only they don’t have ostriches on Abydos, so this has to do."

It looks to me like it’s an ostrich feather. It’s big, long, and white. Judging from the matted stink and slimy drool of the mastadges they have here – the Abydonian version of an ox – I don’t think I care to know what kind of fowl they have here that’s big enough to produce that size of feather.

Clearly knowing what I’m thinking, Daniel grins at me. "It doesn’t smell bad or anything, Jack."

Then he continues. "The ancient Egyptians had a lot of rituals which centered around the dead. This is one of the more beautiful ones. See, they believed that a person’s heart recorded all the deeds done in their life, so the heart was very important in judging the person in the afterlife. Because Ma’at was patron of justice and the Truth, the heart was weighed against the weight of a feather upon death. Anubis was watcher over the Scales of Truth, and Thoth recorded the result."

I’m not entirely sure exactly who Anubis and Thoth were, but I’m not gonna ask, because Daniel’s biting his lip and his hands are starting to shake a little. Maybe lecture mode isn’t such a safe haven after all, at least not on this subject. I place my hand gently on his shoulder, and he takes a deep breath.

He gives me a bit of a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "If the person lived a worthy life – if their good deeds exceeded any bad – then the weight of the heart balanced with the feather." He can’t hold it in, and a small whimper escapes as the tears start to run down his face. I feel like I have to do something, say something, but I’m not very good at this.

"Danny… Sha’uri had a good heart."

It must have been the right thing to say, because the look he’s giving me is full of gratitude. There’s something else there too now… something powerful has entered his eyes, but I can’t quite place just what it is.

"Yeah. She’s with Osiris now, Jack. She’s going to live in everlasting paradise, forever peaceful."

Now I can recognize what’s in his eyes. It’s relief.

"The nightmare is over, Jack. She’s at rest now." And then he’s crying openly, leaning against me, and I can’t help but shed a few tears of my own as I hold him close to me.

It doesn’t last long. True to form, Daniel’s ability to interpret, accept, and express his emotions serves him well, and bolstered by his not inconsiderable natural strength of character; long before I can clear the haze of sorrow and a million other unidentifiable feelings from my own mind, he’s got himself together and is pulling away from me.

Only to utterly shatter the mood of shared intimacy with his next words.

"Kasuf wants me to stay."

Suddenly, painfully abruptly, I know why I’ve been feeling the way I have. It’s not anger I’ve been feeling at all… it’s fear. It’s been fear, all along. Sha’uri is gone now… and gone along with her, a huge chunk of Daniel’s soul and just maybe a huge chunk of his motivation for being in the Stargate Project.

I’m afraid of losing Daniel.

There’s slight noises and a shifting of sand, and then I feel his presence behind me. I need not look; there’s only one person it could be. His shadow, stretched dark and long in the lateness of the day, falls across the sands to my right. Not turning around I tip my head in that direction, acknowledging his presence and giving silent assent, so that he knows it’s all right to be there, all right to speak to me.

"They have departed." I nod. I knew they would have by now.

"You will stay here." It’s not a question, but a statement; for a second I’m concerned at his presumption and turn to look at him, but as I see what he has brought I realize that I have misunderstood. Kasuf extends his arm, handing me the blanket, and I understand that he was simply acknowledging my need to be alone; telling me that he understood that I would not be returning to the family home this night. Not just yet.

As I accept it from him; he glances at me and then looks away very quickly.

"Kasuf… Good father, what?" I think I know, though.

He’s holding something in his other hand, something wrapped in woven cloth, and with his reluctance to look at me I’m pretty certain I know what it is. He doesn’t want to give it to me, but his honesty and fair-mindedness win out and he gently places his package down on the sand beside me. He touches my shoulder, and then in a whisper of sliding sand and faint rustle of his robes, he’s gone.

I know what it is, and I ‘m not sure I want to unwrap the cloth. Looking at it, touching it, would just confuse things for me further, and I’m already feeling overwhelmingly confused as it is, thank you very much. It’s presence at my side reminds me of Jack; of the pained and unbelieving look on his face when I told him that, yes, I was seriously considering Kasuf’s offer of a home here on Abydos.

He didn’t want to hear me; didn’t want to hear me saying that my life with the SGC was centered around hate… my hatred for the Goa’uld, and that I was tired of living for that. Didn’t want to hear me tell him how much I admire him and Sam and Teal’c, and how much I wished that things were simpler for me, but they weren’t, and that I didn’t know what to do anymore. He just wanted me to go with him, back home…

Home…

I don’t think I even know what that word means… what a home is. Living here on Abydos with Sha’uri – that glorious period; over a year of feeling like I truly belonged like I never had before and never have since – I thought I had a home. Then, on Earth, it had taken a year or so, but eventually I came to think of the SGC as a home.

But now I know that it’s all been a wicked lie.

I feel like I don’t really truly belong anywhere. Kasuf wants me here because he respects me and because I’m his son-in-law, because I touched and tasted and made love to his only daughter. And because he’s lonely. They want me back at the SGC because my knowledge is valuable to them, and Jack and Sam and Teal’c want me because they consider me a close friend. I have a bond of shared family and shared loss with Kasuf, and a bond of shared experience and shared purpose with SG1. They each think they want me, but…

They seem to want me, but nobody loves me. Nobody has ever loved me like Sha’uri did; wholeheartedly, unconditionally, passionately. She’s gone now. I lived for years without her, but in all that time she was never gone… just absent. She was my reason for living, for trying, for pushing ahead with new things and new experiences. I always felt her, out there somewhere, as an intangible force that gave me the will and the motivation to carry on even in the most difficult of circumstances.

Looking down at the feather I still hold in my hands, I try to tell myself that Sha’uri is still with me, that she will always be with me. I try to convince myself that her essence is held in my very soul – and that although I will never again hold her close and smell her sweet scent, never again slide my body passionately against hers in deep need borne of love – I try to tell myself that somehow nothing has changed; that she is still with me.

But I don’t think I believe that. I look at the feather, and somehow I feel that it is all that is left of Sha’uri. There’s nothing else. I grip it tightly, but reverently all the same. This feather is Sha’uri… all that is her is here in this white lacy softness. She’s not in my soul; all I find there is emptiness. And I can’t seem to locate her in my heart.

In my… in my… heart?

If home is where the heart is, then I have no home.

Even with the blanket the night had been very cold, but somehow the deep chill was just the thing I needed. The intense warmth of the Adydos suns produces a certain lassitude, a lethargy that I now realize had not only affected my body, but also had wrapped around my mind like a cocoon; insulating me from both the very intensity of my grief and from the efforts and feelings of those who had been there for me.

The discomfort of the long freezing Abydos night had fixed that, but good. As the first really hard chill of the dark night had descended, my morose and self-pitying mood of the evening had degenerated into an openly hysterical rant against the unfairness of life. Self-hatred came next, finally followed by an intense and uncontrollable outpouring of raw grief that left me so exhausted that it had been all I could do to gather the blanket around me before dropping off into a dreamless sleep.

Now, perched on my dune watching the suns’ rise, I’m more than ready to shift my perspective outside of myself. To Sha’uri, to Kasuf, to my friends on Earth.

I still feel ‘home-less’… but not ‘heart-less’. That had been an aberration; I was angry with my inability to save Sha’uri and unconsciously I was punishing myself. Now I know it, and I know also that Sha’uri really is still here with me; she always will be. No matter what I decide, no matter where I end up, she’ll be there too.

As for Kasuf… he is family, and he is lonely, but he and I both know he’s not alone.

The SGC will go on without me there. Sure, I’m useful, but I’m not indispensable.

And I am tired, so very tired, of living for the negative things in life; of living and working and sleeping and breathing my hate and anger for the damned Goa’uld. I just don’t think I can continue doing that any more. Sha’uri is back with me now, and she is finally free of the Goa’uld.  I hug the precious feather close to my heart.  From this point on, I want my life with her to be something more than a struggle against the Goa’uld. I want it to be… happy.

As I shift my position, my hip bumps the cloth-wrapped object which still lays, untouched, beside me. As I remove the GDO, a piece of paper flutters out from the folds of the fabric. My heart catches in my chest, and I know that despite the catharsis of last night, there’s still a lot of feeling left in me. Like, dread, and guilt. I hope against hope that it’s not from Jack, because that would be too brutal of a reminder of the fear and betrayal I saw in his eyes as I told him to go… "just go Jack; leave me be"… as he left me, uncertain that he would ever see me again.

As he went, his parting words were, "Just let us know what you decide to do, so we know if we should reassign your locker."

I hurt him… deeply, I think. I know that his sarcasm came more from that hurt than from bitterness, and I really do feel guilty about that, now. I didn’t, at the time… I was too wrapped up in my cocoon of loss and self-pity to worry much about how my actions would affect anyone else. This morning, though…

My hands are shaking a little as I unfold the paper. Sure enough, Jack’s distinctive handwriting appears. The letter is a long one… for anyone, but especially for Jack. I guess he’s got a lot to unload, and judging from the way we parted, I’m pretty sure most of it isn’t good. Swallowing hard, I start to read.

Daniel…

No, wait… Danny…

I don’t know just what to call you right now. I’d write Danny-boy, but I know you hate that. What about Space-Monkey? That any better? No, I guess not.

Okay, so I’ll stick to Daniel. You’re a grown man and I guess you deserve to be called by your proper name. Look, you and I both know that I’m pretty useless at this honesty stuff, so maybe I should just take a deep breath and get it over with. Sha’uri is dead. She’s gone, Daniel.

I smile; No, Jack. You’re wrong about that…

We’ve fought a hard long fight in her name, but know this, Danny-boy (oh sorry, I can’t help it, I guess) just because she’s dead doesn’t mean that we should give up. It doesn’t mean that any of us, not me and not you either, have the right to hide ourselves away and try to overlook the threat that the damned snakeheads pose to everyone else.

Look, I figure that even though years have passed, every day since she was taken away you’ve probably felt the loss just like the day it happened. Hey, if I’m wrong about that, come on back and tell me so. It hasn’t been fun for me either; the closer I got with you the more it hurt to watch you re-live seeing her on Chulak, seeing her possessed, every time the word Goa’uld was spoken. And it’s been spoken a lot.

Yeah, Jack. And now I’m tired of it. I don’t want to hear it any more.

I know you don’t want to hear it anymore…

I’m shocked. Jack… understands.

Neither do I, pal. But there’s no choice. We have a world to protect; we can’t go back now and we can’t pretend any differently. And ya know what, Danny? I don’t think I can do it without you. No… I know I can’t. Sure, I can stay with SG1, with the Project, but I can’t really fight the good fight without you, because whether you like it or not, you and Sha’uri are the lynch pin of that fight.

I need you, Danny. Sha’uri doesn’t need you anymore. Kasuf thinks he needs you, he thinks he cares about you, but I don’t think so. He needs another reminder of his daughter, that’s all. Do you really want to slip away from being who you really are, into being just a token souvenir for someone else’s memories? So what happens after a few years, Daniel? When maybe you decide it’s finally time to move on… to love someone else? What happens to your purpose for Kasuf then? Who – what – do you become then?

Jack… oh god. Oh, Sha’uri, help me here. Now I know I still have a heart, because I can feel it breaking up into little pieces. The truth… hurts.

I need you, Danny. I… oh god, I knew this would be hard, but I didn’t think I’d feel like this… like someone was pulling my guts out through my nose. Shit, this is so hard. I’m sorry if what I am saying hurts you, but dammit, Daniel… Sha’uri doesn’t need you any more. She’s dead, Daniel. You said it yourself, she’s with Osiris now, in everlasting paradise.

I feel like screaming this at you, but it’s hard to do that with a pen and a piece of paper. She doesn’t need you… and she sure doesn’t need you to waste the rest of your life moping around Abydos just because that’s where you remember being happy with her. You can still be happy with her, Daniel. You carried her around with you for years, didn’t you? You didn’t need to be on Abydos to remember her. She’s dead, but she hasn’t left you. She’s not on Abydos, Daniel. She’s not on Abydos, and she’s not in Kasuf’s home… she’s in you, Danny.

Oh… oh. Just when did he get to be so damned smart? I thought I didn’t have any tears left. I was wrong. Kasuf would glare at me in disfavor if he was here… I’m bawling like a baby.

Look, kid, I won’t even bother with the whatever-you-decide-as-long-as crap. And I don’t care how selfish that sounds. I think I’m right about this.  Abydos is not your home, Danny.  Maybe it was, but it never can be again.

I need you.  I… oh shit. I thought I’d be able to write it down, even though I can never say it out loud… but I guess I can’t.  Sorry.  I guess the closest I can come to telling you the real truth is… Danny… you’re at the center of my life.

And by the way… as pretty as that burial ritual story was… she’s not in that damned feather, either.

He didn’t sign it. I can understand that; it’s hard enough for Jack to even identify and face his feelings, never mind to actually record them for all posterity. To expect him to be able to put his name to it all is expecting far too much. I… I care about you, too, Jack.   Shit… I can’t say it, either.

As the fierce morning suns rapidly heat up the remnants of cool night air, a stiff breeze is sweeping across the dunes. As sure as I can see the wraith-like forms created by the shifting sands, and as sure as I know that if I don’t get out of here soon I’m going to be painfully sandblasted, I know that everything Jack said is true.

I really need to go, now. The wind is picking up quickly, and on Abydos that can be dangerous. There’s something I have to do first, though.

Picking up the GDO and carefully wrapping Jack’s letter around it so I don’t lose the precious paper in the growing gale, I stand up and turn my back to the wind. I’m facing the village, and although I feel a flush of warmth and peace flow through me at the sight of it, I know I can’t go there. I have to go… home.

I bring the white feather to my lips and gently kiss it. I raise it high, and feeling the weight of my heart lighten to balance that of the feather, I let it go.

And while I watch it flutter and twist and turn in the wind as it rises ever higher into the air and quickly is borne far far away, I don’t say goodbye to Sha’uri… I say hello.

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