He didn't see me at first, standing there in his doorway, so I watched him pack up his books and his rocks with the lightest step I've ever seen on Dr. Daniel Jackson. With the beard - and I'm not sure I know yet why he grew it - he looks older, but he's acting younger than he has in years.

He's leaving earth, bound for the Pegasus Galaxy, on board the Daedelus.

This is the age Daniel should've been when we started planet-hopping and intergalactic butt-saving. He was too young then, especially when you consider that he's younger than he always claims.

He doesn't know I know this, but I discovered very early on - right after we survived the Gamekeeper – that Daniel's parents died when he was eight, in nineteen seventy eight. That makes Daniel a full five years younger than is noted on all his paperwork. I remember the shock I felt when I realized I'm just old enough to be his father. And I can't even begin to do the math of how young he was at every stage of his educational life. But he was definitely too young when we started all this.

Now though, now that the goauld are finally defeated, the Jaffa are free, Sarah is safe from Osiris and Anubis is out of our hair, now Daniel has the physical strength and emotional maturity that I wish he'd had from the beginning.

Not that he hasn't been emotionally strong all this time. You take a look at everything he's been through in his whole life, and I can't imagine a stronger person. But a lot of his strength used to come from internalizing everything that happened, taking the blame whether he deserved it or not, and carrying all his hurt and regret and anger on his then quite thin shoulders.

But now, he's grown. He's learned that he not only doesn't but he can't control the literal universe. So a lot of his guilt and depression has dissolved and resolved, and he's been happier these past couple of years than I've ever seen him.

We had a rough couple of years there between us. When things were new, he was so young, and hurting so much from losing Shaare and feeling so lost, not only in the hallowed halls of the Air Force, but lost even on our team. He wasn't used to being part of a team, part of a family. He wasn't used to arguing, fighting, forgiving, and fighting again. And I think it was the forgiveness part he had the most trouble with, being forgiven most of all.

When he was that young and socially vulnerable, I made sure to take care of him. I watched his six on the field and off. I'd give him a literal pat on the back for things done well and things gone to hell. There were times I'd give him a hug because I could see in him the little kid lost in the high school hallway, getting his books knocked out of his arms and being subjected to swirlies.

But now, busy in front of me, getting ready to fly to a different galaxy, all I saw was a strong, smart, confident man.

The years in between weren't always easy. I can't say what happened or when it started but we lost a lot of ground between us. I remember when he still called me "Colonel". I remember when he called me "a stupid son of a bitch". I learned all his inflections of "Jaaaack", from "you can't be serious" to "you really are a moron" to "if we don't do things my way, life as we know it will cease and my head will explode".

Then it seemed like we stopped talking, really talking, altogether. Maybe it was my fault. Daniel seemed closer to Teal'c and maybe I resented it. I don't know. I really don't know.

I do know that everything seemed to get very military, so that very little archeology and linguistics happened on our expeditions. And with all the Air Force scandals, the brass went into overdrive about political correctness and recognizing women in the service, so Carter got a lot of shine, leaving Daniel's contributions and accomplishments in the dirt.

It was like when he was out of phase; Daniel was there, but we didn't really see him.

It was my fault. It had to be. I was the CO of our team, and I'm the older wiser one in our friendship. If things broke down between us it was my fault because I should've been paying better attention, I should've taken the initiative to fix things.

But I didn't. And our friendship drifted apart.

Now we're going to have the actual light years between us that we figuratively had for several awkward years. Just when it seemed we'd gained all that ground back.

Things greatly improved between us when they put me in charge of the SGC and I loaned Daniel out to Elizabeth for the Atlantis project. Daniel was so happy when I told him he was practically bouncing as he dashed around his office, grabbing books and poring through journals. Actually, he was bouncing. He was so preoccupied getting all that stuff ready that I had to remind him to pack warm clothes and boots.

I went to his apartment the night before he left, for a last informal debriefing, and to wish him good luck and Godspeed. He was so happy and so excited that I stayed there until dawn and barely had to say a word the whole time. He just talked and talked all night. It was good to hear.

He was disappointed when I wouldn't let him gate with Elizabeth and the rest to Pegasus, but I think it also meant something to him that I wanted him to stay with us. With me. Because later on, when I had to shoot him in the Gate Room, it didn't bother him. Aside from losing all that blood and needing surgery I mean. He accepted it and then he let it go. The old Danny would've taken the blame for it and worn it like a flak jacket. The new Danny barely registered it at all.

Danny. How long has it been since I called him that?

"Jack!" How long have you been standing there? I was going to come see you as soon as I was done, but it's taking longer than I thought to pack up my office. It's a good thing I speak 'Daniel' so that he didn't have to take time from his brisk work to actual say all that.

"Daniel."

He smiled at me. Grinned actually. He didn't lose the grin even when I said,

"Not to late to change your mind you know."

He only grinned a little more broadly. He didn't answer me.

"So, are you getting all set here?" I asked then.

"I think so. I guess I won't know until I get there. If I need anything, you'll bring it out to me, won't you?"

I wasn't expecting that question. He sounded liked he was serious.

"You betcha."

Right. Not that I wouldn't fly all that way just to bring him a forgotten leaflet on ancient Aztec corn growing requirements. But I had this feeling that I'd get out there only to find that Daniel had already found his place on a new team, in a new family. He'd be grateful for my effort, even happy to see me, but ultimately it would be that he needed the leaflet more than he needed me.

I didn't think I'd ever be ready for that.

"So am I going to get to see you before I leave?" he asked me, over two handfuls of books being set into boxes.

"Uh, no. I'm going to be in Washington for a week at least, arranging the new regime here."

"Oh." He actually seemed disappointed. "When are you leaving?"

I looked at my watch. "Wheels up in two hours. I'm on my way topside now."

"Oh." He said again. He sounded even more disappointed. "So - so this is it?"

"Seems like."

"Oh. Oh." He started looking around himself, like he'd lost something. "I was going to give you something. An artifact. Something to remember me by." He flashed a grin in my direction, but kept looking, digging through shelves and looking in his desk drawers.

"Don't worry about it Daniel. You can give it to Walter to give to me." When he kept digging I added, "You should keep packing, you don't want to be late for your flight."

"What? Oh. Yeah." he straightened up. "I guess I thought we'd have a little more time."

"There's never enough time." I thought back over the past decade and all the times I've had to say goodbye to Daniel. Only once did I say it willingly: when I left him on Abydos with Shaare.

"No, there never is." He agreed with me. He didn't take any step closer.

"Well - take it easy Daniel. Don't give Elizabeth too much trouble."

"Right."

I waited a minute, I'm not really sure for what. This was it then. I started to turn away.

"Goodbye Daniel."

"Jack?" And I didn't recognize that inflection. I turned back and Daniel walked right up to me and gave me the mother of all hugs. "I'm going to miss you, Jack."

We stood back apart and Daniel looked at me the way I think I used to look at him. "Take care of yourself Jack. And safe home, OK?" He was encouraging me; wanting to be sure I'd be OK when I was out of his sight.

Our boy had grown up.

I am still old enough to be his father though, so I allowed myself a small indulgence. I patted the side of his face and let my hand rest there.

"Safe home Danny."

The end.