Fic: The Eternal Question
Nov. 21st, 2003 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galaxysoupFANDOM: Stargate SG-1
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Angst, hurt/comfort
SUMMARY: Someone comes to Daniel looking for answers.
SPOILERS: None
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by a scene in one of the Harry Potter books.
THE ETERNAL QUESTION
Airman Matthias Pieper stood in the hallway next to Doctor Jackson's office door. His left shoulder ached dully beneath the onslaught of two extra-strength apirin and his eyes were gritty with fatigue. He leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the cement seep through the fabric of his uniform, and concentrated hard on the chill. For a moment the screams in his head almost seemed to fade, and then someone slammed a door down the hall and his concentration was broken. He straightened and knocked quickly on Doctor Jackson's door before his courage could fail him.
There was a pause, and a voice said absently "Yes?"
He opened the door and leaned partway through, good hand still on the knob. Doctor Jackson squinted up at him from a small pool of light illuminating a cluttered desk and a patch of gray painted floor.
"Can I help you?"
Matthias swallowed. The doctor didn't seem upset to be disturbed, so he eased his way in and closed the door softly behind him. "Airman Matthias Pieper, sir. I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment."
The doctor nodded, looking surprised. "Of course. Have a seat." His hands fluttered over the books scattered on his desk, picked up and discarded a pencil, and finally came to rest on the arms of his chair. "Would you like some coffee?"
Matthias stepped over a stack of papers heaped on the floor and seated himself gingerly in the chair the doctor had indicated. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
The doctor gave him a quick smile, the light from the desk lamp flashing on the lenses of his glasses, and busied himself with the coffee pot. He handed Matthias a mug. "What's on your mind?"
Matthias stared down into his coffee. "I... well, you've been here for a long time."
The doctor watched him gravely, waiting for him to get to the point. "Since the beginning, yes."
"You've... seen a lot."
"Yes." He frowned suddenly. "You said your last name was Pieper, right?"
"Yes, sir." He glanced up. "I was on SG-6."
"SG-6," the doctor repeated. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you, sir." Matthias tugged on a fold of his fatigue pants, rubbing the stiff fabric between his fingers. "I've heard of some of the things you've done, sir. As part of SG-1, I mean. I thought, maybe..." his voice trailed off. Sitting on that gurney in the infirmary, aware of the covert scrutiny of the nurses, it had seemed like such a simple question to ask. Such an easy way to answer all his questions. Now that he was here, in this dim room smelling of dust and coffee, he was starting to realize what a terrible thing it was to do to someone.
The doctor cocked his head to one side and watched Matthias fidget, his eyes gentle. "Well, I'm guessing it's not something military, or you wouldn't be asking a civilian," he said. There was a trace of humor in his voice. "And as much as I would like to think you've come with a question about archaeology I get the feeling that's not it, either."
"What is dying like?" Matthias blurted.
The doctor went still. "Ah." It was a tiny sound, more of an exhalation than anything, heavy with understanding and sorrow. "Dying. Yes." He leaned back in his chair, his hands disappearing under the desk to rest quietly in his lap. The word seemed to hang in the air between them.
"A lot of dying has to do with what you believe when you're alive," the doctor said softly. "Some people who have had near-death experiences say they see friends or family who have died. Some report seeing various gods from their religion, or a tunnel and a bright light." He glanced up at Matthias. "I don't actually remember anything about dying, myself. I remember it getting very dark and then I remember waking up." He shrugged. "Maybe that's because I don't believe in any particular religion, maybe it's because that's what I want to believe is waiting. I really have no idea."
Matthias put his still-full cup down on the edge of the desk, the quiet scrape it made against the wood sounding abnormally loud in the dark room. "Oh."
The doctor's eyes were kind behind his glasses. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't help."
Matthias stared down at his lap, reaching up with one hand to rub his aching shoulder. "It's okay. Thanks for talking to me."
"Matthias."
Matthias looked up. The doctor was leaning forward now, his elbows on the desk. "I don't remember dying very well, but... I do know what it's like to have people I know die."
Matthias nodded jerkily, recognizing the offer for what it was. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"And I know it's a cliche, but... as long as you remember them, they'll never really be gone. As long as you're here SG-6 still exists."
"Yes, sir." Matthias' good shoulder hunched.
He heard a rattle and looked up to see the doctor holding out a bottle of aspirin. "Look... I have a cot set up in the corner, if you don't feel like going all the way back to your bunk right now."
Matthias smiled a little and shook his head at the painkillers. "Thank you, sir, but that's okay. I'm sharing a room with Sergeant Zandy. I'll be fine."
"All right." The doctor looked at him over the tops of his glasses. "Don't let Janet catch you out of bed this late. She'll lecture."
"I'll be careful, sir." Matthias stood and went to the door, pausing for a moment before turning back. "Sir... are you going to be around tomorrow?"
Doctor Jackson watched him gravely from the pool of light illuminating his desk. "I'll be here."
Matthias nodded and slipped back out into the hallway.
THE END
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Angst, hurt/comfort
SUMMARY: Someone comes to Daniel looking for answers.
SPOILERS: None
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by a scene in one of the Harry Potter books.
THE ETERNAL QUESTION
Airman Matthias Pieper stood in the hallway next to Doctor Jackson's office door. His left shoulder ached dully beneath the onslaught of two extra-strength apirin and his eyes were gritty with fatigue. He leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the cement seep through the fabric of his uniform, and concentrated hard on the chill. For a moment the screams in his head almost seemed to fade, and then someone slammed a door down the hall and his concentration was broken. He straightened and knocked quickly on Doctor Jackson's door before his courage could fail him.
There was a pause, and a voice said absently "Yes?"
He opened the door and leaned partway through, good hand still on the knob. Doctor Jackson squinted up at him from a small pool of light illuminating a cluttered desk and a patch of gray painted floor.
"Can I help you?"
Matthias swallowed. The doctor didn't seem upset to be disturbed, so he eased his way in and closed the door softly behind him. "Airman Matthias Pieper, sir. I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment."
The doctor nodded, looking surprised. "Of course. Have a seat." His hands fluttered over the books scattered on his desk, picked up and discarded a pencil, and finally came to rest on the arms of his chair. "Would you like some coffee?"
Matthias stepped over a stack of papers heaped on the floor and seated himself gingerly in the chair the doctor had indicated. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
The doctor gave him a quick smile, the light from the desk lamp flashing on the lenses of his glasses, and busied himself with the coffee pot. He handed Matthias a mug. "What's on your mind?"
Matthias stared down into his coffee. "I... well, you've been here for a long time."
The doctor watched him gravely, waiting for him to get to the point. "Since the beginning, yes."
"You've... seen a lot."
"Yes." He frowned suddenly. "You said your last name was Pieper, right?"
"Yes, sir." He glanced up. "I was on SG-6."
"SG-6," the doctor repeated. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you, sir." Matthias tugged on a fold of his fatigue pants, rubbing the stiff fabric between his fingers. "I've heard of some of the things you've done, sir. As part of SG-1, I mean. I thought, maybe..." his voice trailed off. Sitting on that gurney in the infirmary, aware of the covert scrutiny of the nurses, it had seemed like such a simple question to ask. Such an easy way to answer all his questions. Now that he was here, in this dim room smelling of dust and coffee, he was starting to realize what a terrible thing it was to do to someone.
The doctor cocked his head to one side and watched Matthias fidget, his eyes gentle. "Well, I'm guessing it's not something military, or you wouldn't be asking a civilian," he said. There was a trace of humor in his voice. "And as much as I would like to think you've come with a question about archaeology I get the feeling that's not it, either."
"What is dying like?" Matthias blurted.
The doctor went still. "Ah." It was a tiny sound, more of an exhalation than anything, heavy with understanding and sorrow. "Dying. Yes." He leaned back in his chair, his hands disappearing under the desk to rest quietly in his lap. The word seemed to hang in the air between them.
"A lot of dying has to do with what you believe when you're alive," the doctor said softly. "Some people who have had near-death experiences say they see friends or family who have died. Some report seeing various gods from their religion, or a tunnel and a bright light." He glanced up at Matthias. "I don't actually remember anything about dying, myself. I remember it getting very dark and then I remember waking up." He shrugged. "Maybe that's because I don't believe in any particular religion, maybe it's because that's what I want to believe is waiting. I really have no idea."
Matthias put his still-full cup down on the edge of the desk, the quiet scrape it made against the wood sounding abnormally loud in the dark room. "Oh."
The doctor's eyes were kind behind his glasses. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't help."
Matthias stared down at his lap, reaching up with one hand to rub his aching shoulder. "It's okay. Thanks for talking to me."
"Matthias."
Matthias looked up. The doctor was leaning forward now, his elbows on the desk. "I don't remember dying very well, but... I do know what it's like to have people I know die."
Matthias nodded jerkily, recognizing the offer for what it was. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"And I know it's a cliche, but... as long as you remember them, they'll never really be gone. As long as you're here SG-6 still exists."
"Yes, sir." Matthias' good shoulder hunched.
He heard a rattle and looked up to see the doctor holding out a bottle of aspirin. "Look... I have a cot set up in the corner, if you don't feel like going all the way back to your bunk right now."
Matthias smiled a little and shook his head at the painkillers. "Thank you, sir, but that's okay. I'm sharing a room with Sergeant Zandy. I'll be fine."
"All right." The doctor looked at him over the tops of his glasses. "Don't let Janet catch you out of bed this late. She'll lecture."
"I'll be careful, sir." Matthias stood and went to the door, pausing for a moment before turning back. "Sir... are you going to be around tomorrow?"
Doctor Jackson watched him gravely from the pool of light illuminating his desk. "I'll be here."
Matthias nodded and slipped back out into the hallway.
THE END
