Precious Are They
I want all the Teal'c fic in the world, after that, because, fifty years! Side-splittingly hilarious things, heartbreaking things and just, so many things must have happened, and he can't say any of it. It would be angst, but I think Teal'c is too cool for angst school, so he'd just reflect. (and laugh a lot, whenever Daniel and Vala totally failed to get together, or when Mitchell lost at stick-fighting, or when Sam's eyes lit up when they passed a music store. well, okay, that last one might be a little sad.)

I got bitten by a plotbug, whoops. Also, ha, I am cute when I thought that this would be funny.

For saramir

Precious Are They
Teal’c remembers. “Unending” tag.




Teal’c remembers. He always will remember as well, unafflicted by the plague called Alzheimer’s, unlike Mitchell. That has not happened, and never will, so Teal’c finds himself in the curious position of knowing and not-knowing, remembering something that has not, and will not, happen.

He knows what could have become, and he is grateful that he could reach over, prevent Major Carter from moving that device, prevent the time dilation bubble from ever forming, Or forming for them, because it had formed for him, and he knows everything in those fifty years.

He recollects, perfectly, the attempts each of them had made at cooking. Major Carter’s mashed potatoes, the spicy peppers and lamb that DanielJackson insisted fixed every problem. (Teal’c does not think it was lost on Major Carter, the way DanielJackson’s voice caught for a moment. Not every trial can be solved by spices, or even effort.) Mitchell’s lemon-cake and honeyed turkey, made while he insisted that he’d never cooked this before, but his Ma made it every holiday, and well, if Mitchell wanted to make the middle of the tenth year a holiday, Teal’c would not argue. General Landry insisted that he could only handle simple things, but baked pies, fondly looking out on his new family, as he called them. Even Vala tried; the first time she made fudge, it was brittle and over-sweet, but after many tries, accomplished it. Teal’c had been pleased; they had the Asgard technology, and when he wanted a root from Chulak for his special sauce, he did not feel that it was at all cheapened for appearing suddenly on the counter, rather than after days of hunting.

Every failed attempt to escape the bubble was firmly cemented in Teal’c’s mind. Major Carter’s endless perusal of the Asgard database, with every possible manifestation of anything that could go wrong documented, but there was nothing of use. Occasionally, she would be excited for weeks over a possible solution, but as the years passed, those moments slowed, until there would be months without a glimmer of hope. DanielJackson continued to read the store of Asgard literature, and still rejoiced in it, finding new information, without ever finding anything to help them. He would rush to find one of them to share a discovery with, even at moments of extreme unease, such as during training, or, as Mitchell insisted, in the showers. Teal’c offered to assist both of them, as did the rest, but Major Carter gently persuaded him away, and DanielJackson looked grief-stricken at the possibility of not reading everything. He did scan certain of the passages onto tablets; the Asgard had included everything about themselves; from science to battle, and Teal’c found the ship schematics interesting.

The endless entertainments stuck firmly in his mind; Vala had established a schedule, and badgered the rest until they stuck to it. She was delighted that there were so many things to do; the rollerskates came after a watching of Xanadu, and she took to them like a duck to water; Teal’c was pleased that she was finally showing her abilities to them all, for he had felt unease when she seemed to be hiding. DanielJackson had told them all that there was more than bad films to Earth culture, which Teal’c knew, but he still appreciated the evenings when they worked on the dramatic recitations and stories. Teal’c thinks he made a fine Prospero, although he admits that General Landry’s voice was well-suited to Scrooge. Major Carter had explained that she and Vala were sick of endlessly needing to be rescued, and began a war-like tournament of bridge. Vala had been unexpectedly good at it, which she gleefully explained, lay in how you were supposed to count cards. The sound of the cello, first wildly, then gently, wafting though the ship was relaxing, even as Major Carter tried to convince Mitchell to resume his violin studies; none of the others showed the slightest inkling, although they all listened attentively.

He recalls the relations, the new friendships. One morning, early in their confinement, when they all still thought of it as a short vacation, when DanielJackson and Vala had appeared at the table together, full of sideways glances and possibility. General Landry had gently asked them, after several years of glances, and more obvious exploits, including, according to Mitchell, one time in the corridor, if they were ready to take each others’ hands in marriage, and how Major Carter had orchestrated the announcement frequency to play a traditional procession. The games had splintered off, and Mitchell and General Landry played many rounds of chess, becoming more talkative and almost discarding the command structure entirely. Teal’c thinks, after years of Jack telling him so, that this is a very good idea, indeed. While the first time Mitchell had bested him in the gym had been tempered by an apprehension over Mitchell’s health, it had been gratifying, later, to see how well he fought.

As the years wear on, Teal’c assists in many celebrations. Faithfully, they observe Earth holidays, and Major Carter, Mitchell, General Landry and DanielJackson tell stories about their time on Earth; Mitchell helps decorate, and seems to be childishly excited, even in the third and fourth decades, retelling stories and inventing new ones. Vala insists that each and every birthday and anniversary be commemorated, which leads Teal’c to wonder if they all need quite this much cake, but he is pleased when Vala gifts him with her closely-guarded never-fail-fudge recipe, and three pounds of it. He silently remembers Drey’auc, and even though time does not pass for those outside the bubble, lights an extra candle for Rya’c, on the anniversary of his freedom from the false Gods.

When the bubble is broken, Teal’c remembers the rush of flames around him, the peacefulness, for he knew if this failed, it would be a comfortable way to go. The sudden snap to the past, or the now; Teal’c could hardly hear after the crackle of the ship, and the explosion of the vacuum.

On Earth, he holds his promise; he will not tell of what he knows. It is a trial, at first, for there are many moments when he thinks that it would be easier, to simply disclose. But he has made a promise, and that is precious. When he sees Mitchell make the same misstep he saw for years aboard the ship, Teal’c wants to tell him that he can learn, he will stop making the same mistake, one day. One morning, DanielJackson enters a meeting with a reddening palmprint on his cheek, and Vala slinks in behind him, looking satisfied. For many weeks, Teal’c wants to tell both of them that they have commemorated their forty-fifth wedding anniversary, and that this can become something greater. He holds his tongue, and seven months later, when they both slip into Cheyenne Mountain, late, but looking sated, Teal’c is pleased that they can figure this out for themselves.

In General Landry’s office, there is a small tree, bound and twisted by the ages; Teal’c sympathizes. He recalls, on the ship, how the General’s quarters quickly filled with living greenery, but how he most carefully tended the small tree. Some days, when he is feeling most frustrated, but there is not yet time for kel’no’reem, he thinks about that tiny tree; older than everything else here, yet stuck, endlessly curtailed. He does not often see the tree, though, but he is pleased when General Landry requisitions a green light, for his office.

One winter day in Colorado Springs, when it is still bitterly cold, and Teal’c does not feel out of place, for his new bright-orange hat fits in very well, he and Major Carter make a trip to buy liquor, for a party that she insist will be wonderful. Walking back from the liquor store, they pass a small shop with a few brass instruments hanging against a faded blue cloth. Teal’c slows slightly, and Major Carter, without thinking, turns and stares in. She can see the faint outlines of a cello inside, and Teal’c makes up his mind.

"I have contemplated taking up the guitar. I believe it would be most conducive to relaxation."

Major Carter smiles widely at him. "Really, Teal’c? Well, I’m sure that they won’t miss us if we’re a little late..."

-

Precious are they, with forms that are free from injury, and feebleness and age do not affect their limbs.
-Canto One of the Huvidagman, from the Manichaean Hymn Cycle.