Title: David Lane (Chapter 1)
Series Title: Making Peace

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate in any way, shape or form. If I did, I would need a lot more closet space for Michael, Ben, Chris, Joe and David. ;-) I am not making any money on this so please don't hunt me down. David, Patrick, Shannon, Kevin, Deidre, Frank and Moira are original characters. Basically I don't own anyone recognizable.

Note: I have only the first three pieces finished at this time. This is only my second foray into SG territory. I'll only post the rest if there's interest as I have many various fics to read from awesome writers already here in the "genre."

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I look up from my roses to find Colin running out to the curb where he's parked his car. He needs a haircut, but I know nothing I say will ever change that fact. I chuckle to myself and use the porch rails in front of me to pull myself to my feet. Getting old has never been something I imagined for myself. Being the youngest kid of a family of seven means it's always your older brothers or sisters who have to face the black balloons and "over the hill" jokes long before you do. And leave it to my wife Anna to remind me that I should look for payback next week when I make it to fifty.

My niece Angie called yesterday and drove that age right into my brain for me. She had a college assignment that was meant to torture her family, I'm sure. So she came asking me about my life. Nothing much exciting there. I work at the nursery I founded years ago with my sister Dee, Angie's mother, and spend my free time playing with the roses while keeping Colin on track. Anna insists it's more along the line of Colin keeping me young.

That project has been bothering me though it pains me to admit. Anna has never agreed with my theory on family. Maybe it's because her own was small and less annoying. Or maybe it's because her parents are still alive. Might even be that she's never seen a child die. To be honest, never have I. My nephew was dead long before I last saw him. That's the skeleton in my family closet: a boy who never got to live.

I scowl at a muscle car as it comes speeding down our street. It nearly hits a black truck as it runs the stop sign. Damn kids will only kill someone one day. And with the way this world works lately, it'll be a minivan with a family of six in it. I toss the trowel in the wheelbarrow and begin my trek back to the garage. The roses will be ready for the state fair next month. Anna had been disappointed when I mentioned I might not participate this year. So I sucked it up and entered.

It's not the fair itself, mind you. It's more the roses. I started working on this breed almost thirteen years ago. I meant it to be a tribute to a life cut too short. Every spring the roses bloom and bring my nephew to mind. His laugh often put mine in motion. He loved the silliest jokes and had no problem learning new ways to gross out his mother. I smile to myself and finish setting my tools aside. I walk out the side door and stare out at the backyard. I want to win him a blue ribbon. I need to. Maybe I'll even mail it to my brother.

Now there's a topic: my older brother. I haven't seen him in thirteen years. I think I got a letter in the mail seven years ago. He mentioned something about being busy and not having time to visit. I frown at the memory. Our father had turned eighty, and he had something better to do. I stalk to the backyard and decide to dig holes for the two new trees I bought yesterday. It might calm me down. My brother always gets me riled.

Anna's voice drifts from the front lawn as I work. After this, I'll get out the grill, and we can make some brats. There's a short grilling season in Michigan. Unless you've lived somewhere colder or were born in Michigan, the season lasts five months due to rain, temperature and snow. Anna's from the Upper Peninsula, and I have the good grace of being born in the great state of the lutefisk. Sometimes I miss it and then I remember that the lake cuts some of the snow we get here. It's less shoveling in the long run.

There are steps on the sidewalk next to the house. And I can now make out some of what Anna is saying. She's talking about the weather and my last win at the state fair up north. I chuckle to myself and put aside the shovel. Must be one of the neighbors. Wiping my forehead with a handkerchief, I turn. The sky suddenly cracks open, and I try to think of something to say.

"Dave." His greeting is the same as it used to be. I notice Anna standing behind him glaring at me. She's wanted this for years; me, I don't know what I want anymore.

I fold the handkerchief and put it in my pocket to give myself some time. Then I look up at my brother and plaster a grin on my face. Better to look welcoming than brokenhearted, I remind myself. "Jack."

His brown eyes dart around the yard as he takes in what little of my life I want to share with him now: a backyard full of trees and bushes. "You do all this?"

I nod, "Colin helped."

His eyes darken for a moment, and I know the tone I used hurt him. I wanted it to. "Looks good. Nice trees." I remember enough about my brother to see the amusement in his face. Must be a joke I forgot over the years.

I look at Anna and smile, "Put out another place, hon?"

Anna pats Jack's shoulder and replies, "Already did."

That's news to me. "You knew he was coming." The accusation is barely hidden in my expression.

"Dave." His eyes become angry. "Let Anna be. I'm the ass here. Not her."

I snap, "Damn straight." I turn and grab the shovel I stuck in the ground beside me. "Toss that leather aside. You can at least be helpful." I try to ignore him as he kisses Anna's cheek and sets his coat on her arm. He walks over to the first tree and grabs hold of it.

"I wanted to come out and..." I cut him off.

"Do I care, Jack?" I look at him and try to keep tears from my eyes. "You certainly didn't give a damn."

He sets the tree down and slouches a bit. "I know. I..." his voice breaks a little. "I made a lot of mistakes, Dave. With you. With all of you."

I take the tree from him and set it in the hole. "Did you see the roses out front?"

Jack looks grateful for the lifeline I've thrown. He sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. "I did. You're taking them up north?"

I motion for him to pick up the shovel and begin to fill in around the roots. "I planned on it. They're finally ready. Anna kept at me last year to take them, but I'm glad I didn't."

"Another nursery had something similar?" His question almost sounds normal. But his voice gives away how hard he's trying. I decide to give in.

I reach out and grab his arm. "Jack and Charlie."

His face almost crumbles. "What?"

"I was right, Jack. They weren't ready last year. Now..." I let go of the tree and take his face in my hands. "I call them Jack and Charlie. Started them when I got home that year. Figured it would be something he'd love." I'm surprised by the tears I can't hold back any longer. I used to be stronger than that. Or maybe it's that I've missed my brother that much.

He steels himself and grins shakily. "Yeah. They're finally ready." He pulls back and grabs me in a hug. "I'm sorry, Dave."

I just let myself feel whole again. The empty spot in my heart fills up with peace: all because Jack's found his.