EPILOGUE
General Hammond walked into his briefing room after SG-1 had gone through medical and taken their seats. They all looked tired, but thankfully in one piece. "Okay, people, tell me what happened to make you totally incommunicado. We couldn't even establish a gate lock on the planet." As he finished asking his question, Major Carter stiffened with a surprised look on her face.
"Sir, before we start, can we try dialing P6X318? I think it was building another charge as we were leaving. I wonder if it's shifted realities again."
"Shifted realities?" George repeated, thinking it was probably a miracle that his team had made it home at all. He shook his head and picked up the phone to call Walter downstairs. "Dial P6X318. See if we can get a lock on it."
SG-1 turned to look out the large window and watched as the gate turned and clicked on the fist six chevrons. The seventh wouldn't lock. Walter confirmed what they had already seen, and George told him not to try again.
"Guess that answers that," O'Neill commented to no one in particular.
"Other reality?" the general asked, sitting back for the amazing story he knew would unfold.
It turned out to be far more horrifying than he had expected.
"That was some experience," he finally expressed after they had concluded the story. "You're all very lucky to make it back."
"We had a lot of help," Daniel said, and George had to nod his agreement with that.
"So, what's been happening here?" O'Neill inquired. "Anybody take out Anubis while we were gone?"
George smiled. "Sadly, no. But right after you left, we received a visit from your father," he said, nodding in Major Carter's direction. "They haven't been having a lot of luck reverse engineering the reanimation device's technology into a weapon. But according to Jacob, Malek has come up with an idea on how to make it work So, I sent Doctor Lee to the alpha site to help create the prototype. I'd like you -- " He stopped when all four of them exchanged looks. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. They'd left out something significant, apparently.
"Why the alpha site?" Sam asked. "Couldn't they use the facilities here at the SGC? My lab is better equipped."
"Apparently Malek refused to come to Earth. Jacob didn't have an explanation for why," George shrugged a little.
They didn't look surprised. Daniel narrated the whole story of who they believed Malek's host to be and their hypothesis of what had happened to him.
"It makes a sad kind of sense," Daniel concluded. "If the NID did force him to come and work for them, and especially if they threatened his family to make him cooperate, he wouldn't want to endanger their lives by magically reappearing as a Tok'ra. That would make him even more valuable to them. I can't say as I blame him for not trusting the military. In fact, it's amazing he's willing to have anything to do with us at all."
George sat back thinking about it. He'd thought Malek was a more typical Tok'ra, disdainful of the Tau'ri, despite Jacob's claims otherwise, but this put a new spin on his reaction. "I agree. He's showing us a small amount of trust; we had better not do anything to betray that trust. Therefore, Major, I'll leave it to your discretion how much you tell him."
"Yes, sir," she said.
"Be gentle with him, Sam," Daniel warned. "If we're right, he might be kind of skittish about his identity being blown."
George decided to place a few calls, and see what rotten fruit he could get to fall to the ground. Someone had forced a civilian scientist into Tok'ra exile, and he was going to find out who.
--- ---
Sam couldn't help sending covert glances at Malek as they worked together. Sam was holding onto the faint hope that his host wasn't Markus, though they were physically identical, since he made no effort to make himself known. To think of such an intelligent and charismatic guy feeling the need to hide behind his symbiote made her incredibly sad.
On her first night at the alpha site, she had asked her father if he knew Malek's host's name. He didn't.
"It's not that unusual, Sam," he'd said. "Many hosts just want to forget their previous lives. He usually only emerges among other Tok'ra. I think it was a year or more before he spoke to me. But that was probably my big Tau'ri mouth scaring him off," he smiled, half-joking, but Sam thought it was probably true.
He paused and added more thoughtfully, "Something happened, we know that. When Malek first came with this new host, it seemed to be a difficult adjustment for them."
"How long ago was that?"
"Not long before I blended with Selmak," Jacob mused. "Maybe seven years ago, or so. His former host, Chuan, was in deep cover in Lord Yu's ranks. Somehow the first prime found out his true identity and Malek had to get out fast. The Jaffa chased Malek for several weeks, but in the end Chuan was shot. They were saved by a stranger, who killed the Jaffa with a weapon of his own invention. Chuan died anyway, and Malek blended with his new host. They returned to us and went immediately to report to Per'sus, which is not a common practice, I should tell you."
Sam nodded. It made sense, though her father didn't understand why. Malek would've learned his host was Tau'ri, and that was important enough to bring to the grand counsel.
"He was assigned to Garshaw's tunnel where he stayed for several years, before being assigned his own. Which was a bit of a surprise, since Malek's never been interested in leading anybody before." He shrugged. "Whoever he is, the host knows a lot. Malek's a chemist; but he's recently moved more into advanced tech and engineering. So I suspect it's really his host who came up with this new idea for the weapon."
"Does he trust you?"
Her father looked taken aback. "Why wouldn't he trust me?"
"Malek wasn't happy when he had to rely on us after he evacuated Raisa."
"It was the rebel Jaffa he didn't trust. He knew, through me, that SG-1 and Earth were to be trusted."
She wasn't sure of that. Markus hadn't said a word around anyone from Earth, not Pierce on Raisa, and not at the Alpha Site or on Pangar.
Her dad had gone back to his work, so she reluctantly had ceased her questions.
When her father had gone to Earth to report their progress to Hammond, she thought she'd have more opportunity to catch Malek alone.
The occasion came when the technicians decided to leave for lunch, but Malek declined, saying he wanted to finish up the calibration of one of the components first. Sam offered to help.
At first they worked in silence, but she couldn't help watching him, looking for signs that Markus was the one in control.
Malek eventually caught her at it, "Have I done something to offend you?"
She laughed guiltily. "No. You haven't. I'm sorry. I'm just thinking about our previous mission and I guess I'm not paying as close attention to what I'm doing as I should."
'Come on,' she urged silently. 'Ask me about my mission.'
"Are you referring to the mission where you were missing for two weeks? Is it not classified?" he asked. "Jacob has led us to believe that you cannot reveal to outsiders what has happened to you."
"I don't consider you an outsider. We are allies," she reminded him gently.
"Yes. We are. I would like to hear. Jacob was most distressed by your absence."
Sam turned away from the bench and faced him squarely. She wanted to see his face as her story unfolded. "We went to a planet that had a device made by the Ancients that transported us to an alternate reality. But, at first, we didn't know that. So, when we went through the gate, thinking we were going home, we ended up at Cheyenne Mountain, but it wasn't the SGC."
"Interesting," he responded. "What did you find?"
Sam pulled her chair up closer to where Malek sat. "The SGC had been transformed into a home for hundreds of kids who had survived a virus epidemic that had nearly killed all living adults back in '89. These kids watched their parents die in front of them. Then they had organized and found a way to survive. They were led by a truly charismatic young man who was the oldest when the virus hit. He was the son of a doctor stationed there, and a genius in his own right, and kept everything running. He was trying to make a better world. He was opposed by the remnants of the military, who'd grown corrupt."
"Was he killed?" He didn't sound very shocked by the idea of military corruption. And he'd lost the symbiote voice.
"No, but not for lack of trying. While we were there, Markus had organized a meeting to create an alliance of all the scattered communities, trying to rebuild civilization."
He tensed at the name, but remained silent.
"Valhalla -- that was the name the military government gave themselves -- they attacked and captured Markus and Daniel. You haven't met Daniel, yet," she added as an aside. "For awhile their situation seemed pretty bleak, but Colonel O'Neill got them out, with the help of a few of the locals, who believed Markus' ideals were worth preserving."
Malek was very pale and she could see his hands clenched at his sides. Yet he managed to keep his voice level. "Did you know this Markus also?" he asked, trying to test whether he could get away with ignorance.
"Not as well as Daniel. They became very close while they were prisoners. But yes, I knew him." She added gently, "He looked exactly like you. We know who you are, Markus."
He stared at her. Shallow, rapid breaths came out his open mouth. Sam thought it was a good thing he was sitting because she doubted his legs would have supported him.
Suddenly his eyes flashed and Malek took over. "You must not reveal what you know to anyone," he cautioned and abruptly left the lab.
Sam sagged into her chair. She had her answer, but wondered what Malek or Markus would do. She wanted to reassure him that the SGC would stand by him and give him any support he needed, but he'd left so quickly she hadn't had a chance.
A little over an hour later, Delek stormed into the lab. "What happened between you and Malek?" he asked, outraged.
"Nothing," Sam answered untruthfully. "Is he alright?"
"He is gone and I was told he went through the gate some time ago." He leaned toward her, glaring. "Without letting anyone know his destination. He was last seen in here with you and I hold you responsible for his flight."
"Did anyone see --"
"No one was close enough to see the address. The Tau'ri are a duplicitous group, and more like the Goa'uld than we are!" He stalked out, letting the door slam behind him.
Feeling wretched, Sam bent her head into her arms. She wanted to cry. What had she done? She should have raced after him and made him understand she would keep his secret. Her own inaction had led to his fleeing the planet. Fear had driven him away, fear that the NID or some group like them would find out and use the knowledge to get him back. Thinking of the morals of the old NID, she had to agree with Delek. Maybe some of them were as bad as the Goa'uld. But not the SGC. Not SG-1.
She hoped he had fled somewhere safe and that he would return and give her a chance to say she was sorry.
--- ---
The Tok'ra didn't believe in doors, so Markus had chosen quarters at the end of a short corridor for the most privacy. He was pacing there now, feeling ridiculous after the stern lecture given to him by Delek for disappearing for more than a week.
They'd gone back to where he had met Chuan and willingly taken his place as host. He hadn't wanted to deal with the Tau'ri or what Sam and the military now knew about him
Malek had eventually talked him into returning to the tunnels, but not into contacting the Tau'ri. 'I understand your need to hide in a burrow like those rabbits on your world. But I do not believe Major Carter would have turned you over to her government.'
'I can't risk my father's life. I won't. She'll have to tell her superiors and from there it'll get to them. He's all I have left on Earth.' He stopped pacing and sank down on the floor, against the wall. The only protection he could offer was his absence, but it was hard. It had been a long time since he'd seen his dad.He didn't even know if his father was still alive. Maybe he had died years ago.
A noise from outside caught his attention and Jacob peeked inside. "Hey, you're back. Are you okay?"
"We are well. I thought you were on Earth?" Malek asked.
Jacob grunted in disgust and entered the small room fully. "We're all back. The Tau'ri alliance is over."
Markus and Malek were stunned. "We have cut all ties with Earth?" Markus asked.
Jacob nodded. "At least for now. Everyone's upset after the alpha site was destroyed. At least Sam's going to be okay." He settled on the floor not far away, pulled up his knees and looked toward the open doorway. "In case you were wondering, your father's still alive. He's doing fine."
Markus felt a jolt of panic and shifted as if to stand up, but Malek stopped him.
Jacob turned his head to look at him, and his gaze was kind. "Daniel told me. But no one else knows. There was nothing in their reports that would connect you to anyone in the alternate reality they visited. I could hardly believe what Daniel told me about what happened to you."
His heart was slowing, and the fear was fading into anger at the bastards who had ruined his life. "The part where I got framed for my graduate student's murder and drove my car into the Pacific?" His tone was bitter. "They gave me a copy of my suicide note. It was very convincing."
Jacob nodded. "That, and the part about you getting kidnapped. By the same traitors who were running that artifact theft ring with Maybourne, presumably. What did they want you to work on?"
It was a relief to finally talk to Jacob about it. "Everything. It started with modeling the gate. When I'd done that, I was apparently so useful they wouldn't let me go. They made sure no one would come looking because I was dead, and even if I escaped, I'd be a wanted fugitive. At first I told them to go fuck themselves, no matter what they did to me, but then they showed me a video of someone following my dad to work." The implication had been clear enough. He'd known they would do it, too. So he'd caved. He slumped and murmured, "I couldn't fight that. I worked on alien tech, phase cannon, naquadah bombs, whatever they wanted. Eventually they took me through the gate and I got a personal cloaking device working, blew up half the complex to fake my death again, and escaped. I ended up finding Malek."
He didn't mention the two months on the run, alone in Goa'uld territory before he'd found Malek. His symbiote was the only good thing to come out of all the horror.
Malek's love and support filled him, soothing the ragged emotions and keeping his memories from overwhelming him.
"What if," Jacob suggested tentatively, "you could go back? The NID is crippled now, and they don't have any influence inside Cheyenne. George steps on them like roaches. He'll protect you, Markus."
'He's right. We could go. I would like to see your homeworld,' Malek said.
But Markus shook his head. No matter what Jacob said, he couldn't risk it. If he visited Earth, the same evil cycle might begin all over again, with Sean as a hostage for his son's good behavior.
--- ---
After the burial was over and Carter and Daniel led Cassie away, Jack lingered at the gravesite, looking blindly at the flower- and flag-decked hole that now held the mortal remains of Janet Fraiser.
After a moment, he became aware that someone else in Air Force blues had approached on the other side. Studiously he didn't look up, giving whoever it was a chance to say his own goodbye in private.
"I'm sorry," the other man whispered. "I wish … " he choked up and he had to clear his throat. "I know you wouldn't want me here. And I know it was my own stupid fault. I pushed you away, and I lost both things that ever mattered to me. I should have told you a long time ago. I'm so sorry… "
Jack couldn't help listening, once he recognized the voice.
"I shouldn't have been such a fool," the man continued with painful regret. "I knew you hurt as much as I did. More. But I was so wrapped up in myself, even when you needed me, I couldn't see what I was doing. And so I made you hate me, as much as I hated myself. But you were right, Mary. You were always right. I … I just wanted you to know. Even though it's too late now."
Mary? The odd name caught Jack's attention. He knew Mary was Janet's middle name, but no one called her that. He glanced up.
Colonel Albert Devon Samuels kissed a single red rose and dropped it into the grave. Only then did he look up, right into Jack's face, and realize he wasn't alone. His face first went white and then flushed deep red. He stiffened and clenched his jaw.
Suddenly Jack understood a lot of things that had never come together before. "You and Janet were married," he realized.
Samuels nodded. "We were. A long time ago," he said repressively, to make it clear he didn't want to talk about it.
But too bad, Jack wanted to know some things. "Why'd you call her Mary?"
He could see Samuels' was tempted to ignore him, but he gave a little shrug. "We always called each other by our middle names, from when we met in the eighth grade. She liked calling me Devon," he shrugged again, as if it didn't matter, but then added more softly, looking down at the flowers, "She was the only one who made it sound okay."
Jack inwardly winced, figuring out the story now. High school sweethearts, who had married young and then tragedy struck and it had fallen apart. Like him and Sara, but with an even more bitter ending. Nothing had happened to lift Samuels back up, like Skaara, Daniel, and the Stargate program had done for him.
"You had a child, but he died," Jack said, knowing it was true. He'd never heard anything about it from Janet, or seen a picture, but then, until very recently no one would have looked at his things and known about Charlie, either.
Samuels' throat worked and it took him a moment to find his voice. He didn't look away from Janet's grave. "He was almost five. Meningitis. He might -- he might have lived if we'd gone to the ER. But I didn't think the fever was that bad …" Old pain and guilt threaded his soft voice, full of regret. "She was right. Always a doctor," he observed with a choked laugh. "Even before she was one."
A fresh rush of grief for Janet's loss filled Jack, realizing what he'd missed. He could have told her about her son, grown and well in that other universe, but he hadn't known. Hadn't known, because he'd never asked.
"His name was Jeremiah," Jack murmured. "Wasn't it?"
Samuels jerked as though Jack had hit him. "How the hell do you know that?" he demanded roughly.
Jack looked in his eyes, seeing not the jerk he knew, but the echo of Devon, the one who had sacrificed his life for his son and the cause of hope and freedom. Jack knew what it was like to live in the shadow of regret and guilt until it seemed like there was nothing left. Duty was a cold comfort once one's family was gone, he knew that too. If he could make things a little better, he thought Janet would approve. "You still have clearance for the SGC?" he asked.
Frowning in puzzlement, the other colonel nodded. "Yeah. Why?"
"Come on back to my place," Jack invited. "I should have told Janet, but I didn't know. So we'll drink beer and I'll tell you all about how I got a chance to meet another version of you. And how I met your son."
"You met…" For what felt like a very long time, Samuels stared at him, blinked twice as he considered whether Jack was putting him on or not, and gave a hesitant nod. "I -- I'd like that."
Jack beckoned him to move toward him. "Let's go." When Samuels didn't move, Jack added deliberately, "Devon."
The name startled him into a bit of a smile and he cast a reflexive glance at the grave. But he straightened his shoulders and joined Jack on the path back to the cars, without question or complaint about his choice of name.
Jack glanced at him as they walked and nodded to himself. Maybe Devon was alive in this reality after all.
--- ---
The flight to Atlanta was uneventful, and Daniel took a taxi to the CDC. He showed his i.d. to the security desk to have them notify Doctor Sean Alexander that he was there for their appointment.
It hadn't been hard to get Hammond's approval to offer the elder Alexander a position at the SGC. His expertise in disease and epidemiology was sorely needed after Janet's passing, but more, it would provide a safe place for Markus and his father to be reunited. He'd persuaded Hammond that the Tok'ra break from the alliance was temporary, and Markus and Malek would eventually come through the gate. Even if they didn't, at least Sean could know what had happened to his son, and the SGC would get a good doctor.
"You don't look like a spook," a man spoke behind him.
Daniel turned around to see a gray-haired man, eyeing him with suspicion. He wasn't as tall as Markus nor resembled him too closely, but there was something in that sharp gaze that was very familiar. "I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson. Pleased to meet you, Dr. Alexander." He held out his hand, which hung unclasped in midair. Self-consciously he returned it to his side.
"Doctor of what?" he asked. It was not a friendly question.
Daniel smiled sheepishly. "Archeology and linguistics."
"Yet you're here representing the military offering me a job."
"What makes you say that?" Daniel asked curiously.
Sean folded his arms. "At least every six months someone offers me one." His lips twisted in an ironic smile. "And here you are. At least your visit tells me Markus is still alive."
Daniel was surprised. "You think he's alive? I thought he was dead?"
Sean snorted. "That's the story, isn't it? But I don't believe it. I never have. I think he fled into hiding. And I won't be used to get him back. So you can tell your bosses that my answer's the same as it always is: I haven't heard from him. Knowing how watched I am, he would never risk contact. He's too smart for that. And if anything happens to me, I have files and protections in place to expose your operation, so leave me alone."
His answer delivered, Sean turned to go, and Daniel blurted, "Sean? Please. I'm not with them, I swear. I just want to talk to you."
He waited, biting his lip, hoping that Sean would listen. Hoping that he would hear something of what Daniel could not say in this very public place.
Sean turned back around slowly, frowning at Daniel. "All right," he agreed finally, with some reluctance.
Daniel understood the wariness and tried to smile, reassuring that he only wanted to help. "Can we go someplace a little more private? I promise you, I have no intentions of forcing you to do anything."
Sean led him into an elevator and up to an empty conference room. "Will this do?"
"Nicely." Daniel took a seat in one of the plushy chairs absently twirling it from side to side. Now he didn't know where to begin. He couldn't get over that Markus' dad was still getting pestered. That meant they knew Markus was alive, they just didn't know where. Markus had been right to be cautious.
"So, what is it?" Sean prompted.
"You're right, sort of," Daniel began. "I was going to offer you a job. But not by coercion and not to keep tabs on Markus. I work for the Air Force, but as a consultant."
"Doing what? What does the Air Force need with an archaeologist?"
"We're involved in tricky first contact situations, and my grasp of languages and education helps them, helps us, communicate with those we are, uh, contacting," he stumbled, wishing this would have gone more to plan.
Sean didn't ask for clarification. Daniel wondered how much he had found out about the NID project that had kidnapped his son. There was information out there if someone was persistent, and he had the feeling that Sean Alexander was at least as persistent as Markus. "And me?" he asked. "What would I be doing?"
"Taking care of soldiers and the occasional civilian that gets caught up in something he can't fight on his own. Lots of research into, uh, foreign diseases, the kind you've never run into before."
Sean hesitated, mulling that over. "You seem to know about Markus and his disappearance. What can you tell me?"
Daniel didn't think Hammond would approve, but he knew if he didn't give some concrete information Sean would never go for this. He dampened his lips, and answered, "As of two weeks ago, he was alive."
Sean thumped back in his chair, his eyes unseeing. "All this time," he breathed to himself. "All these years. I've believed that he was alive. But I didn't know." He took a deep, though unsteady breath, and rubbed at his eyes. "Where is he?"
"I can't tell you that unless you agree to come work for us and sign some official non-disclosure documents." Daniel realized what that sounded like and rushed to add, "He's not a prisoner, though. And if you say no, we won't do anything to him or to you. That's not what this is about."
"Still sounds like blackmail to me."
"You're right. It does. And there's nothing I can say or do that will persuade you that I can be trusted. I can't blame you for that, after what happened." Daniel got out of chair feeling defeated. He had thought convincing General Hammond would be the hard part. "I just want you to know, I genuinely think you'd like working with us. It was an honor to meet you."
"Sit down, Daniel," the older man said, with some of the snap to his voice that Daniel remembered from Markus. "I admit, you're different from the usual guys. They usually aren't sincere, but use it to let me know they haven't forgotten. What are they going to do if I come with you?"
"I don't know," Daniel answered truthfully. "I do know that once you're with us, they can't touch you."
"So, you're saying I'll be safe with you." The skepticism was back in his voice.
"Safe, no. Safe from them, yes. We do dangerous work, but it's fun, important, and mind boggling." He paused. "Your choice."
"Where is it?"
"Colorado Springs." Daniel began to feel hope that he had talked Sean into joining their team after all.
The two men stared at one another. Sean looked confused, maybe even wanting to believe, but finding it hard. Daniel wanted to reassure him, but could only let him go on gut instinct, because without the signed non-disclosure paper, he'd already said too much.
"Well, you're the first person to confirm he's alive. Give it to me." Sean took the paper from Daniel's hand, and with a quick scrawl, signed his name. "Can I see him?"
Daniel smiled. "He's not here. But we've got a plan to reunite you two, and right a terrible injustice that happened to you and Markus. So I think you will, and soon."
--- ---
The klaxons sounded signaling an incoming wormhole. Daniel rose from his desk and headed to the gateroom. While researching the scribblings from the latest planet they had visited was important, his mind was not really focused enough to make headway and he could use the distraction. Janet's death last month had hit the whole base hard. At first, bringing Sean on board had helped, but now, he found he couldn't concentrate on anything. He missed Janet.
He met Jack in the hall on the bottom floor. "Got any idea who it is?" he asked, trying to be interested.
"Not a clue," Jack responded as they entered the gate room.
General Hammond was standing at the foot of the ramp. "Tok'ra IDC," Hammond told them as the iris opened.
"Thought the Tok'ra didn't want to play with us anymore?" Jack voiced out loud.
Daniel repressed a smile. It could be Jacob to update them on the dissention amongst the other Tok'ra. Or maybe they'd kicked him out as a human sympathizer.
Daniel's attention was arrested as a single man came out of the event horizon clad in brown Tok'ra garb. It wasn't Jacob. Recognition hit him at the same instant it hit Jack. They exchanged a look of amazement. Hammond, because he was standing in front of them, didn't see. He took a few steps up the ramp. "Welcome to the SGC. I'm General Hammond," he greeted.
The Tok'ra looked around the room, wary and alert, with a hand on his holstered zat. He recognized Jack and took his hand away, focusing on Hammond with a nod. "I am Malek of the Tok'ra, General Hammond. It is good to meet you."
"You're Malek?" Hammond exclaimed. "Then -- "
Malek smoothly cut off anything else he might say. "I have come to offer our condolences for the recent passing of Doctor Frasier. And also to discuss the possibility of reinstating our alliance."
"Oh, yes, of course," Hammond said automatically, sounding confused by Malek's formality.
Daniel stepped forward. "General? Maybe Jack and I should escort Malek to the briefing room?" he suggested. Markus was never going to come forward with all the guards watching and the cameras recording everything.
"Right," Hammond said, with a nod, realizing the same thing. "Of course. I'll join you in a moment."
Jack gestured elaborately, "This way."
But as Malek passed, Hammond couldn't help touching his shoulder and murmuring, "Welcome home, son."
Malek's step faltered, and his mouth twitched as if he would speak, but he followed Jack in silence, while Daniel brought up the rear.
In the stairwell, Jack looked back over his shoulder. "'Bout time you showed up. We've been waiting. Anything in particular you want to catch up on? Sports? T.V? You've been gone awhile."
"Tell me about it," Markus muttered, looking a bit overwhelmed. His hand was very tight on the railing, as they paused there.
Daniel took pity on him. "Jack, give him a chance to settle in before you warp his mind with Tiger Woods and Bart Simpson."
"The Simpsons? I loved that show," Markus returned with a nostalgic look in his eyes.
Daniel wanted to talk to Markus, too, but first he'd want to see his dad. "Jack can get you up to date on the stuff happening in Springdale--"
"Spring-field," Jack corrected.
"Whatever," Daniel responded nonchalantly, knowing he was giving Jack a taste of his own medicine. "I'm going to grab something from the infirmary before we get started. Jack can keep you company. I'm glad you're here, Markus."
Markus frowned at him, puzzled by the friendliness from someone he didn't know. But they emerged into the corridor, and instantly he was Malek again, with no trace of Markus in his posture or expression.
Daniel walked off, with one glance back, to watch Jack usher Malek into the briefing room. Their gaze met and Jack nodded, knowing exactly what Daniel planned.
As soon as they were out of sight, Daniel hustled back to the stairs and up, until he came out on the main research wing. Sean's lab was just a few doors down. Stopping to catch his breath, Daniel opened the door to find Sean staring at the computer screen doing some sort of genetic analysis. Daniel had no idea what any of it was. He was almost as bad as Jack in this department.
"Sean?" Daniel interrupted. "You got a moment?"
Sean looked over at him, taking a few minutes to bring himself back from his thoughts. "Yes. Has something happened?" Almost before he asked the question, he read something in Daniel's manner that brought him to his feet. "He's here?"
"Just arrived," Daniel affirmed. "In the briefing room. He doesn't know you're here, so we'll have to take it easy --"
"Bullshit! My son is not some hot house flower you have to baby."
With that Sean tore out of his lab and Daniel raced to keep up with him. Sean flung open the briefing room door, with Daniel at his heels. Daniel saw Jack and Malek seated on opposite sides of the table, their discussion interrupted by the noise.
"Markus?" Sean called huskily.
Markus looked up. At first, the blood drained from his face as he stared at his father in shock. Slowly a smile tilted the corners of his lips. "Dad?" he asked in wonder.
Sean rushed to him as Markus jumped to his feet and the two men embraced. Daniel could feel tears well in his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Hammond in his office watching through the partition, and the general gave Daniel an approving nod.
Jack cleared his throat a few times. "Guess The Simpsons can wait," he said, although Markus wasn't paying him the slightest attention.
"Come on, Jack," Daniel urged him from the room. "We can talk to them later."
--- ---
Jack finally made it home. He plopped groceries on the counter and put away the ones that would spoil, but left the rest in the bags. Pulling a beer out, he went outside taking sips as he sat in one of his lawn chairs. The stars were out and the nights were still getting nippy. Spring was almost over and soon the nights would warm. But now, the fresh air, even with the bite, felt good.
Jack couldn't help the melancholy feelings that pervaded his soul. Yes, it was nice to see Markus reunited with his father, yet the father-son interaction reminded him of Charlie. The only place they'd be reunited was in heaven, if he made it. Taking another drink from his beer, Jack reflected on everything that had happened since their misadventure on the Ancient Time-Shifting Arches Planet. So much had happened, yet, except for Janet's death, he was glad to have experienced it.
What the alternate Markus Alexander had accomplished was a bright light for humanity. There was hope against corruption. In the old good versus evil war, good had triumphed. But it did show how easy it was to breed corruption without the necessary checks and balances. It was too bad Charlie hadn't lived in that reality, it would have been something to see how he would have turned out.
This train of thought made him think of Jeremiah. Even Devon was a surprise. To think of Colonel Weasel Samuels being married to Janet and producing a son like Jeremiah...
Setting his beer down, he went inside and started a fire in his fireplace. Then he rummaged through his utility drawers until he found a legal pad and a pen. Reclining in a chair, he began writing. At first it was to Jeremiah, thanking him for the shared insights and companionship during their campaign to Seth's place. Of course he had to mention Markus and his father, but soon Jack began pouring out his soul to his son. He apologized for not being there when Charlie went for the gun, for even having the gun in the house in the first place, but soon his writing lost the edge of desperation and he wrote of the times they'd had together. Whether it was walks around the block while Charlie was in a stroller, or trips to the hockey rink for games or just a quick trip to McDonalds in the morning so Sara could sleep in, he mentioned them all.
Soon the pad was filled. Saying goodbye was the hardest. Slowly Jack tore out each page, piling them in front of him on the floor. Then one by one, he put them in the fire until only ash remained.
--- ---
Only a few miles but a whole universe away from Jack, Markus hiked up the trail toward the worn sign that read, "The End of the World." He headed along the path out to the rocky promontory on the shoulder of Cheyenne Mountain.
The sun was high and bright in a clear sky, except for the high narrow clouds, like a child's fingerpainting of white streaks across a field of deep blue. But the view was perfect, overlooking the steeply wooded canyon that separated Cheyenne from its nearest neighbor, with the other peaks and ridges rolling off into the distance. It really felt like standing at the edge of the world.
Meaghan was there, her long black hair whipping backward in the wind, as she looked out at the view. For a moment his heart caught in his throat with fear, since she stood so close to the edge. But then the image took hold in his mind -- there was something fierce and beautiful about the way she stood on the cliff, like a falcon launching from a perch.
She deserved to fly free. He didn't want to let her go, but that was selfish. He'd had her to himself for fifteen years, and he couldn't ask for more. It hurt to imagine her leaving, but also brought a sense of peace, because he knew it was the right thing to do.
Malek, thankfully, kept quiet, perhaps sensing that this was his time alone.
He moved to stand near her, close but still a few feet distant. She didn't turn to look at him, but he could see her smile a little.
After a little while, she spoke, "You promised I would feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair."
He agreed in as neutral a tone as he could manage, "I did."
"And here I am." Her smile widened with joy, and she waved a hand at the mountains and the incredible, dizzying immensity of the sky. "You kept your promise."
"I had some help."
Her smile dimmed somewhat at the reminder that he was no longer alone, and she turned her head to look at him. "True. And I am thankful to you. Both of you." He just nodded. After a moment, she asked, "So, what happens now?"
"I don't know," he answered and glanced away from her, to look out to the distant peaks and valleys beyond. "I thought you might want to go as far away from your jail and your jailer as possible."
"You were not my jailer, Markus," she said, and her sharp tone made him look back at her face. She shook her head once. "I never blamed you for something that wasn't your fault. You made that jail time worth living. And I'm not leaving, if that's what you're afraid of. I might spend some more time outside," she added with a smile, "But you're not getting rid of me so easily."
He had to return her smile, but couldn't keep it. "I -- you -- we're not the same people we were," he reminded her softly.
"I know," she answered. "But we can't be that different either, not after fifteen years of knowing each other as we do. We'll take it slow, and go on from here. Right?" she asked, the look in her eyes suddenly worried, until he nodded. Then she smiled again, relieved. "But, you know what?" she asked rhetorically. "I think we'll be okay."
He looked in her eyes, shining in the bright sun, and he saw that all the things he loved about her had not changed. He reached out, tentatively, to touch her hand, just as she was reaching for his. At first, it was somewhat awkward, since they'd never done this before, but then her hand gripped his and it was as if they'd been holding hands all their lives.
As he stood at her side, with the wind cool against his cheeks, he deliberately did not think of any of the things he should be doing or any of his plans or fears for the future. He simply focused on living the moment. He was here, and she was here, and for this small eternity, that was the only thing that mattered.
The End
We hope you've enjoyed our story! If you have, we'd love to hear from you, especially if we haven't before! Short or long, it's all good.
We want to thank all of our faithful commenters who kept us going along the way. It meant a lot. (Hugs all of you)
Finally, since someone is going to ask: we can't promise a sequel -- and certainly no time soon! -- but if there is one, we know what happens. There are seeds planted in this one specifically for the sequel (though not the ones you think, I guarantee).
Thanks for reading!
Lizardbeth and Lowri, January 2008