Title: N is for Nick
Category: Brief Introspective Musing
Notes: Written for Gen Fic Day, hosted by
sg_fignewton, who pointed out, drat her and her keen observational skillz, that this is as much about Sam as it is Daniel. Still, I think it's mostly about Daniel.
Daniel thought about his grandfather occasionally, usually when he was thumbing through the journal he'd been keeping at the time--it had a little crease on the front cover that he rubbed his thumb over as he turned the pages, a small defect that had become somewhat comforting over the few months he'd taken to fill it and after, when he'd studied it for clues.
Daniel wondered a lot about where, exactly, Nick had gone. Some other plane of existence, he guessed, but when he'd asked Sam about it he'd gotten exactly the same excited theories about it that she had about all the other weird things they'd seen.
Today he pulled out the journal for the first time in three years. Four, he guessed, if you looked at it another way. And his finger found that ridge and he found himself wondering again.
His original purpose forgotten, he put the journal on his table and flipped through it idly, looking at all the sketches he'd done, the notes he'd made. The special coded words that only he could read. Nick was all the family he'd had left, and he always felt a little guilty that he hadn't believed him about the giant aliens. But then, before he'd seen the Stargate, he'd only believed in aliens abstractly, as a means to an end.
A knock at his door. Sam, hanging onto the doorjamb like Vala was in the habit of doing--Daniel shook away the image of younger, less...comfortable...Sam and waited expectantly.
"Lunch?" she said, not letting go of the doorway but rocking back to keep her balance. They'd all changed so much.
Daniel nodded and set the journal aside as he stood. He joined Sam in the hallway, and as they meandered toward the commissary, he thought that if he asked her where Nick was, today, she'd give him a different answer.
He didn't ask. He didn't need to anymore.

Category: Brief Introspective Musing
Notes: Written for Gen Fic Day, hosted by
Daniel thought about his grandfather occasionally, usually when he was thumbing through the journal he'd been keeping at the time--it had a little crease on the front cover that he rubbed his thumb over as he turned the pages, a small defect that had become somewhat comforting over the few months he'd taken to fill it and after, when he'd studied it for clues.
Daniel wondered a lot about where, exactly, Nick had gone. Some other plane of existence, he guessed, but when he'd asked Sam about it he'd gotten exactly the same excited theories about it that she had about all the other weird things they'd seen.
Today he pulled out the journal for the first time in three years. Four, he guessed, if you looked at it another way. And his finger found that ridge and he found himself wondering again.
His original purpose forgotten, he put the journal on his table and flipped through it idly, looking at all the sketches he'd done, the notes he'd made. The special coded words that only he could read. Nick was all the family he'd had left, and he always felt a little guilty that he hadn't believed him about the giant aliens. But then, before he'd seen the Stargate, he'd only believed in aliens abstractly, as a means to an end.
A knock at his door. Sam, hanging onto the doorjamb like Vala was in the habit of doing--Daniel shook away the image of younger, less...comfortable...Sam and waited expectantly.
"Lunch?" she said, not letting go of the doorway but rocking back to keep her balance. They'd all changed so much.
Daniel nodded and set the journal aside as he stood. He joined Sam in the hallway, and as they meandered toward the commissary, he thought that if he asked her where Nick was, today, she'd give him a different answer.
He didn't ask. He didn't need to anymore.