Author’s Note: Written for ximeria for…I think a Teal’c ficathon but I can’t remember anymore.

A Jaffa learns at a very young age that loss is to be expected. Nothing is truly ours and nothing is permanent: everything is subject to the will of the Goa’uld who owns your destiny. A master who will not hesitate to destroy anything he perceives to be held in higher regard than himself.

If my mother and I had not been banished to Chulak, it is likely that I would have known this from the time Cronos murdered my father. Instead, I remained loyal to my father, even as Apophis punished me for that loyalty. It was this stubbornness, so Bra’tac tells me, that first drew him to me and inspired him to take me on as a protégé.

Still, I would be forced to learn the lesson of loss many times; I even killed the friend whose life I had once spared, so Apophis would not learn of my betrayal. Even a parent’s greatest fear–that my son might die before me–was out of my hands. Rya’c would come of age, he would receive his symbiote, he would train as a warrior, and perhaps one day he would perish in the service of his ‘god.’ The only power I had to change his destiny was to teach him as I had been taught, to teach him the skill he would need to survive.

It was not until I met O’Neill that I realized that such was not the belief of every world. It was from him that I learned a new maxim: “No one gets left behind.” To the Tau’ri, resolving to simply accept one’s fate is to give up, to betray the trust that those you love have placed in you. And the will to fight that fate is what bestows the strength to sometimes win the battle.

It was this spirit which first drew me to O’Neill on Chulak. It was what I saw in his eyes that made me believe he could indeed save those people. It was what made me follow him when he offered me sanctuary on this world for my choice, and when he fought to allow me to join SG-1.

When I chose to betray Apophis and join the cause of the Tau’ri, the separation from Drey’auc and Rya’c was painful, but necessary. I was what the people of this world call a “defector,” yet my loved ones were still in enemy hands, a fact that could, understandably, cause doubts about my true loyalties. I accepted this as part of the cost of my freedom, and hopefully someday the freedom of all Jaffa. And if I–or they–did not survive to be reunited, I could accept that as well. But for the first time I saw hope that Rya’c’s destiny was not predetermined. So, when the day came for him to receive the primta, following the example of my new companions I chose to fight that fate, even if it was a battle I could not win.

Nevertheless, I believe I did not fully appreciate the value of my own life to them until Daniel Jackson went before the Cor-ai to rescue me from a most appropriate sentence for my crimes as Apophis’ First Prime.

Daniel Jackson had the least reason of any of the Tau’ri to be concerned with my welfare, as I was responsible for the enslavement of his wife and brother-in-law by the Goa’uld. I did not blame him for his reluctance to do as O’Neill commanded and destroy Thor’s Hammer to preserve my life. Yet only a short time later, I would be confronted with the truth that he chose not only to forgive me, but also to willingly include me in the very ‘family’ that I had helped to destroy.

Lying here now in the aftermath of Mal Sharran, I am once again amazed by the depth of their commitment to each other and to me. It would have been simple for O’Neill and the others to curse me for betraying them, to believe that I had in fact been deceiving them all along, yet they refused to do so. While under the influence of Apophis, I believed that they were fools to place such faith in one who had manipulated them, yet now I am grateful. If they had not had faith in me, I would still be enslaved far more than I was before I first joined the cause of the Tau’ri.

I am told they fought Bra’tac’s decision to invoke Mal Sharran because they would rather have me alive and their enemy than dead in the attempt to recover myself, but in the end they agreed because they knew I would not wish to live in such a manner. And for this too, I am grateful. They guided me back to the path I had chosen long ago, even though they suffered to see me close to death along the way. This is the mark of a true friend, a true brother or sister.

Even Bra’tac has changed as a result of our contact with the Tau’ri. Before I left the service of Apophis, he too believed our fate was not in our hands, and considered me foolish to wish for what could never be. He believed we ought to live for the rare moments when we could make a difference, but be resigned to those times when we could not. Now he too believes the Jaffa can be free.

“Hey.” I hear O’Neill’s voice, and turn to see him standing several feet from the bed that Doctor Fraiser has instructed me to remain in until she can be sure that I am healed. When I acknowledge his presence with a nod, he comes closer, finally pulling up a chair and placing himself in it at my side.

“Well, Teal’c, you’re looking more…stoic than usual. What’s on your mind?”

Not so long ago, this expression would have puzzled me. Now, however, I know that he desires to know what I am thinking. For a moment I consider whether or not to grant his request–my thoughts and memories are private and precious to me, yet I am aware that in my delirious state I have already revealed many of them unwittingly. And there is no one I trust more than this man except for perhaps Master Bra’tac.

“The Rite of Mal Sharran has brought back many memories, O’Neill.”

He nods. “So I heard. Did you know you called Daniel a woman at one point?”

There is a sort of glee in his eyes as he reveals this to me, and I surprise even myself by smiling in response. O’Neill delights greatly in teasing Daniel Jackson, so I am certain he did not hesitate to use my delirious words to his advantage. “I must have been experiencing a memory of Drey’auc,” I reveal.

“Oh.” He appears almost disappointed, then looks at me again, more closely this time, as if he cannot believe the expression on my face. “Well, you should’ve been there.”

“I believe I was there, O’Neill. Did you not say I was the one who addressed Daniel Jackson as such?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “You know what I mean.”

I do indeed, however over the years I have come to enjoy O’Neill’s attempts to explain to me things that he believes I still do not understand. Daniel Jackson would most likely say we have fallen into a comfortable pattern of behavior with each other. Perhaps this is correct, however since it was this familiarity which permitted my friends to continue to believe in me despite all evidence to the contrary, I do not believe this is a bad thing.

“So…” O’Neill claps his hands together and looks at me. “How’re you feeling, Big Guy?”

“My symbiote has almost repaired the damage,” I tell him dutifully. “Soon I will be strong enough to return to duty.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I asked. How are you *feeling*?” The emphasis on the last word surprises me.

“Do you doubt me now, O’Neill?” I ask, seeking clarification.

“No!” His answer is immediate and adamant. “I mean…hell, Teal’c, you just had pretty much your whole life flash before your eyes, and from what I gather a lot of it wasn’t exactly pleasant. I just want to know you’re…okay. Not feeling down or anything.”

Now I understand. He is concerned for my emotional as well as my physical welfare.

“On the contrary, O’Neill–what I feel at this moment is gratitude. While my memory of my time in Mal Sharran is not entirely clear, I am aware that you and Daniel Jackson and Major Carter were with me. You helped guide me back to my true path and for that I thank you. I believe I could not have survived the Rite of Mal Sharran without your guidance.”

O’Neill looks embarrassed. “Yeah, well…you would’ve done the same for me. That’s what friends are for, right?”

I merely smile again and allow my head to fall back against the pillows that Doctor Fraiser placed beneath my head once it was safe to do so. O’Neill takes my silence as agreement and stands, clapping one hand against my shoulder before he turns to go.

“O’Neill.”

He looks back.

“I remember at one point during the rite, you said you are my ‘best friend.’ My recollection has revealed to me that this is not entirely true.” He looks surprised and somewhat wounded by my words, so I explain. “You and Major Carter and Daniel Jackson…are not merely my friends. You are my family.”

O’Neill grins at me and departs.