Being on the Subject of Loss
Rating: PG
Word Count: 591
Disclaimer: I can't own anything. The pygmies and debt collectors own me.
Summary: Sam muses on the subject of loss.
Pairings: Sam/Daniel friendship
Author's Note: This is for chris4short, whose pen name I can't remember, written when she had just lost her uncle. I don't know that this is actually any good at helping with that, but I tried. This has only a vague setting probably somewhere after Moebius, I guess.

Being on the Subject of Loss

They say what is lost can never be found.

I say Daniel Jackson is an exception to that rule.

I don't know how many times he has come back from the dead, but it's enough to make one stop believing in the afterlife. If I stop to think about it, he wasn't dead when Nem kidnapped him, and he wasn't really dead when he ascended... I know I thought he was dead when Apophis' ship blew up, when the weapon on Dakarra destroyed the Replicators... And still he keeps coming back.

The general would make some sort of crack about Daniel being like the energizer bunny or maybe that watch that takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. But he's not.

He is my friend, my team mate, my fellow geek, lover of knowledge, and so much more. And every time we've lost him, it gets harder and harder. Because everyday we know him is a day we love him more, just for being who he is. If he ever died for good, no ascension, no return, we'd be lost. We wouldn't be able to believe it. Because Daniel has always defied death. And he always comes back somehow.

A knock comes on my door, and I look up. "You okay, Sam?"

Speak of the devil, I think, though the man is closer to a saint. "I'm fine, Daniel."

He comes into my lab. "I'm not so sure that you are, Sam. You just lost someone very important to you."

I frown. "What?"

He shook his head. "Don't play innocent with me, Sam. We all lost someone important to us."

Oh, that. But I don't want to think about that. "I miss him."

"We all do," Daniel agrees. "And we always will."

"And it hurts," I whisper, tears sliding down my cheeks. I feel so helpless, so lost.

"And we wish we'd never met him, right?" Daniel asks gently, touching my arm and taking the pencil I was doodling with away from me. I don't know why I drew Little Bo Peep searching for her sheep. I think a shrink might say it was symbolic, but I also would have to deck him. I am not Little Bo Peep.

"Sometimes," I finally agree. "Do you?"

"No," he says softly. "I did, but I try to remember how much my life has changed since I met him. I also like to remember that I will always have memories, wonderful memories, good and bad, that no one else could give me. He was a good man. A good friend. But he's still with us, even if he's only a voice in our heads."

I giggle. I can't help it. "You make him sound like Urgo, Daniel."

He laughs. "No, not Urgo. Though..."

I playfully smack Daniel, rubbing tears out of my eyes. "Stop making fun."

"Only if you stop overworking," he challenges. I look at my desk and wonder when the last time I left this room was. I don't even remember stopping for coffee. Daniel offers me his hand. "Come on, Sam. Let's go. We'll call the others, get some food, and remember our friend properly."

I smile. "I'd like that, Daniel."

I take his hand, and we walk out into the corridor. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to; he has already said enough. A very selfish part of me is glad it wasn't Daniel that we lost.

But then again, Daniel Jackson is the exception to the rule. He'll always be found. Even if only in our hearts.