My Whimsical Solution
My name is Doctor Jackson. Claire Ballard-Jackson to be precise and I was only thirty-four years old when I died. Thirty-four! What a travesty! I had my whole life in front of me and I allowed it to slip through my fingers. My death was such a pointless accident, and as much as I have searched my soul, I cannot forgive myself.
Therefore, I am condemned to roam, not quite in this world and not quite in another. The reason for my grief should be obvious; I left behind my small child. Daniel was eight years old, just a boy, and I left him alone in a world that forgot to care. I couldn't help him, and it tore me apart with exquisite precision. A thousand cuts, a thousand wounds, and a thousand tears.
Despite being granted the great boon of witnessing his life unfold, it afforded me no peace. My father should have taken Daniel into his home, he was his flesh and blood after all, but like Don Quixote, Papa chased imaginary windmills and drove himself to madness.
Foolish, ridiculous man. He lived with a fantasy that colored his life and stole his compassion.
Strangely, Danny understood, and all alone, he struggled through a lonely childhood. He felt unloved and unworthy, and ultimately failed to find the unconditional acceptance that children crave. It was my fault. I allowed myself to die, and so, I must suffer interminably.
Until now. I agonized over my choice, but I found the perfect solution.
My lonely child has become a child again. He laughs with an abandonment that fills my heart with joy. How is this possible you ask? Simple, I made it so. I allowed this strange occurrence to happen, and I refuse to feel regret or sorrow for my interference! I am finally at peace, and my damaged soul is light and blissful. The others were furious with me and censored me cruelly, but no matter. What is done is done, and I will accept any punishment gladly.
I had to move quickly and I made my only mistake. I hurried, and when I was done, Daniel was only a babe. However, to my defense, I was choiceless, Danny was dying, and I could not allow that. My child had so much to offer and he'd suffered for a hundred lifetimes over. I wanted too embrace him, and keep him safe, but there were other plans for my Daniel. It seems there were always other plans for the child of mine.
Daniel forced himself to be strong, but even so, he barely survived those many childhood homes. I watched him grow up wary and cautious, determined to leave his fractured life behind. He always loved with a passion, but never really expected to have his love returned. With that self-hug he learned so well, he lowered his eyes and walked away from love time and time again. Daniel broke my heart, and if I could have wept, I would have.
How is this possible? How could a child of mine not feel worthy of love? These thoughts were my torment and never allowed me to rest. I knew I had to fix Daniel's life but I did not know how. Daniel's name means 'God is my judge', and ironically, that same God now judges me.
Mel and I shared a passion that engulfed us and we defied everyone. I disregarded my father's wishes, and we bravely laughed at his family's snobbery. I was frowned upon; my flat vowels were not considered marriageable material! However, we were the love of each other's life, and what cannot be changed must be endured. Mel suffered greatly from his family's indifference, and it hurt me to hear him weeping at night.
In the end, we were all the family we needed; I can still picture the curve of his face, the crooked smile that effortlessly melted all of my resistance. Believe me; we loved with an intensity that wouldn't be tamed. My body no longer feels my lover's gentle strength, and I grieve for him silently.
We waved them all goodbye, and traveled the world, living in exotic places and eating their exotic food. The dunes of the deserts became our home, and our child was born a nomad. Mediocrity was never acceptable, and Danny was taught to question the ordinary. The world is ripe for the taking my husband would lecture, and it is your duty to embrace it.
Daniel Nicholas would sit cross-legged on the rugs, and listen to his papa, nodding his head gravely. Our Egyptian workers swore he was an old soul, and they could never have known how close they were. A superstitious race of people, they would have feared and loathed us.
When I see the colonel throw Danny into the air and hear his screams of delight, I wonder if we were too earnest in his upbringing. Nevertheless, that was a different time, and we were vastly different to the complicated Jack O'Neill. What we may have missed in spontaneity we made up for with our unbreakable bonds. Mel and I were so in love, and we reared our son to feel nothing but protected and loved.
One day we left our desert home and accepted the coveted position at the New York Museum of Art. We couldn't have known, but and all our love, our protection disappeared under a cold, grey slab. All the kings' horses and all the kings' men couldn't put Humpty together again.
All our plans and hopes for Danny died in the tomb. I suppose it was a fitting place for archeologists to die, amid the spirits of those long gone.
Taken into the States dubious care, my son obviously learned his lessons well, and has three university doctorates. One in Archaeology, Anthropology, and Philology, and he is a brillaint academic. Despite his achievments, my greatest pride is the knowledge that he learned the meaning of true love from us. He met the love of his life, and like us, refused to accept mediocrity, and fell deeply in love. Sha're adored him, and in return, my Daniel was smitten, and eagerly returned her love. They both loved with such a fire; they stole each other's souls.
This is as it should be. Love with every fiber of your being. There is surely no other way.
This little peasant girl with the nut-brown eyes was a good wife, and I loved her dearly. I admired her indomitable strength, her sensual warmth, and her unconditional zest for life. She caused my boy's heart to ignite and burst into life. They shared a great passion, and with the wants and desire of the young, expected their love would last forever.
However, that wasn't to be.
One day, an evil so foul, so despicable, descended upon my beloved children, and as much as I wanted to, I was powerless to stop it. I stormed, I begged, I threatened, but to no avail.
Sha're and her proud magnificence were lost forever. However, I did have a final victory, but at a great cost. The gentle brown-eyed beauty is forever free. No longer will this child of the desert live in purgatory. Her nomadic soul is free, and pestilence and disease can no longer torment her.
Teal'c is a warrior of great note, and a brave and selfless man. He doomed the daughter of my heart once, but with pride of spirit, refused to do so again. I will never forget the resolution of this silent man, and as such, will forever watch over his child.
Had I known Jack's family, maybe I could have helped? Maybe I could have sent that message to them to beware. I will never know of course, and it is arrogant of me to think any different. He is a good man, and it hurts me to think of his suffering. This is how I came to my solution.
The man who lost his son loved my son who lost his father. I watched over Daniel and his family of soldiers closely. I still find it difficult to believe my peaceful child has the soul and mind of a warrior. Despite his love for Samantha, his respect for Teal'c, he felt the strongest connection to Jack O'Neill. This cantankerous, brave, loving man will rear my son with an abundance of love.
See, it is perfect solution.
Jack O'Neill is a good man and Daniel and I chose well. He will forever slay my son's many dragons and for now, we are content.