Wreath at the Gate
Wreath at the Gate
by Jaz
Summary: Alternating Team POV's during the episode Fire and Water
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene/Epilogue, POV
Episode Related: 112 Fire and Water
Season: Season 1
Pairing: Team
Rating: FAM
Warnings: minor language
Author's Notes: Special thanks to Darcy--this would not be the same without your awesome beta! You are the best! Any remaining errors (especially medical ones!) are mine and mine alone. And to Sid--if you hadn't kept asking 'Are you finished yet?' this story would still be lost on my hard drive. Thanks for keeping me going.
Disclaimer: This story is solely for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringements were intended and no money is being made. The characters and situations are the property of Gekko Film Corp., Sci-Fi Channel, MGM Television and probably a boatload of other folks. They're not mine--more's the pity. July, 2005
Archived on: 04/04/06
*Jack*
Hammond gave us a go. About damn time.
When I think about how long Daniel's been stuck on that planet, with God knows what being done to him... Something nasty is being done, no doubt about it. This is Daniel, after all, and bad things always seem to happen to him. He's probably spent the entire time thinking we'd just up and left him. Knowing him, he probably figures it was his fault anyway. In fact, I'm sure that's what he's thinking.
He IS thinking. Which means he's alive. You have to be alive to think. Although, if anyone could figure out how to keep on thinking beyond the barriers of death, it would be Daniel. But I'm holding on to the fact that his hyperactive, overly curious, slightly absent-minded brain hasn't quite developed that far yet, which returns me to my original theory that for the thinking he's currently doing, he has to be alive. Right now, I refuse to believe anything else, no matter what that damn thing did to my mind.
We're going to bring him home.
**********
*Teal'c*
I have failed in my duty to Daniel Jackson.
When I first joined SG-1, and learned it was the wife of the young scholar I had doomed by my choosing, I swore I would do all I could to protect him from further harm. I knew I could not possibly make restitution for the pain I had caused him, but this at least was within my capability.
I was uncertain, upon learning of our placement on the same team, whether DanielJackson would accept my presence; whether he would be able to overcome the hatred I knew must burn within him for my part in his wife's fate. There was no need to overcome it. This hatred simply did not exist. Never have I met a man such as him, with the mind of a scholar and the heart of a warrior. To lose him would be a truly great loss indeed.
I do not think I can forgive myself for becoming convinced he had perished on the planet.
Doctor Frasier took it upon herself to find us on our way to the Stargate room. She attempted to convey to us once again that it was not our fault DanielJackson had been left behind. The chemistry of our brains had been altered beyond our control.
Though well-intentioned, I find little comfort in her words. From the looks on the faces of my teammates, especially that of O'Neill, I can see they feel the same way. It does not matter. We are on our way to find our young friend and bring him home.
I will not fail him again.
**********
*Sam*
Oh, God. I can't believe we left him behind. Not Daniel. This shouldn't have happened. Why does everything have to happen to him? He doesn't deserve it, not any of it. He gives so much; he fights so hard. He's worked so hard at his training, wanting desperately to keep up with those of us who are military, to never give any cause to lose his place on SG-1, but he's still not trained to handle this. Are any of us trained to be left behind?
He deserves a break, a shot at a little happiness, but instead he gets beaten down over and over again. Only this time, it was our fault for leaving him.
When I think about these past couple of days...the service, the wake...the pain of losing him...I haven't felt such grief since Mom died. I never wanted to feel that again, not ever. But it...it's Daniel. He's become like family. He IS family. Over these past months, with everything we've gone through together, how could I not feel that way? We've done and seen things I never would have believed possible before walking through the gate. I'm closer to Daniel and the colonel and Teal'c than I am to my own father and brother. SG-1 has become my family. We're a team. We stand together, at least we're supposed to, but this time we screwed up and left Daniel behind. Damn them for messing with our minds, for making us believe he was dead! No matter what they did, I'm not sure I can forgive myself.
I look across the room to where the colonel's gearing up. I'm pretty sure he won't forgive himself either. His eyes are black, darker than I've ever seen them. I can see the anger there, and something else. He has his game face on, the one he gets before he goes up against the enemy. Only this time, there's more. The rage in his features is frightening. That's a look I'd never want aimed in my direction.
He knows he's going back, and he knows why. He and Daniel have the strangest friendship. They couldn't be more different, and under different circumstances, they would never have become friends. But they are friends. It works. There's something there between the two of them, something I think that must go back to that very first trip to Abydos. It's something the rest of us may never understand, but it ties them together in spite of their differences. And even though they may never come out and admit it, they'd do anything for each other.
I've always wanted a friend like that.
I know the colonel thinks it's his God-given responsibility to keep Daniel from harm, and what an awesome responsibility that is. But he does it, and he does it well, and he does it without complaint...well, mostly...and if sometimes it seems like he's getting a little bit too protective, he has the right. Like I said, bad stuff always happens to Daniel.
It's more than a teammate he's planning to rescue here. It's his friend. I knew from the minute he held me as I fell apart in the infirmary after MacKenzie hypnotized me. I knew exactly how much the colonel cares about us, about all of us. Maybe it's not appropriate for a commanding officer, but he saw me losing it and pulled me into his arms. For a minute, he wasn't just my CO, he was my friend too.
I could feel his despair as he held me. This time it wasn't simply because we lost someone dear to us, but because it was our fault. We left him.
The three of us are making our way down to the Gateroom when Janet stops us. She lays a hand on my arm, but speaks to all three of us, telling us it's not our fault. We had no control over the images that were planted in our minds.
I wish I could believe her.
I can't wait to get through that gate. Just hang on, Daniel, we're coming. I promise... **********
*Daniel*
I don't think they're coming.
I also don't think I'll ever be warm again. Right now I am SO cold. I'm trying to imagine myself on Abydos, remembering the way the heat of the sun-baked sand would warm you through to the bones, scorching your feet if you dared walk out without the sandals the women crafted. But it feels a lot more like the bone chilling nights I'd spent in the cartouche room after the sun went down, my mind swept away by the infinite possibilities, long into the early hours of the morning.
It doesn't matter how long it's been since I was actually brought to this place through the water. I still feel wet. Nem's gone right now. I wish I could tell him what he wants to know, I really do. I'd give anything to help him. I know what he's going through. Not knowing can drive you insane. What happened to Omoroca? To Sha'uri? I don't have any answers. Not for him. Not for me.
Both of us are left to wonder.
Jack and the others aren't coming back. At first, I figured they were here somewhere. After all, there's no way you could convince me Jack O'Neill would leave someone behind. Not anyone. Not even a complete stranger. Certainly not a team member. And, I'd like to think this applies to me...not a friend.
Nem told me he gave them the memory of me being `no more.' I can only assume that means they think I'm dead, which leaves little doubt that they're gone, and they aren't coming back.
I have to admit that thought scares me. I'm not sure I can get out of here on my own. When Nem comes back, I plan to offer him an idea. I've been thinking it over. He says the knowledge he's looking for is there, inside my brain. I can't remember it, but maybe he has some way to access it. If he can see it's there, he must have a technology far more advanced than ours. Maybe he can find what he seeks through that. I've been told that only a small percentage of human brain cells are actually put to use (although Jack informed me once he figured I was already way beyond the legal limit.) Maybe Nem's right, and the information is there. I guess we'll see.
**********
*Nem*
This life form in unlike any I've experienced. Perhaps this is why my love chose to go to their world to battle for them. She must have known.
Of the four that ventured forth through the Portal of the Ocean, only he contains the knowledge I seek. It is there, hidden within his mind. He says he cannot tell me. He offers to allow me to search it out on my own, but I fear the damage such a procedure would do to him.
He is most insistent. He says he would rather risk the damage than never be able to return to his mate or his friends. It is apparent he means what he says. He too knows the pain of loss.
I don't want to damage this frail, yet surprisingly strong life form.
But I must know her fate.
**********
*Daniel*
Hurts. Oh, God, my head hurts. I don't think I've ever felt anything quite like this. I was hoping the pain would ease up when he was done, but it still feels like that device is drilling into my brain. I was going to say it was like the ribbon device, but it's not. It's my whole head. It feels like it's going to explode any second. Nem's gone. He took off. Just left through that wall of water. I wonder...he strolled right through it. Maybe I can too.
I walk over and touch it, almost expecting it to feel like the event horizon, but my finger goes right through, and comes back wet.
I am so outta here.
**********
*Jack*
It's there waiting for me as I step through the gate, and I trip over it, wind milling my arms and catching my balance just in time. It takes a second before I realize what it is--the damn wreath Carter and I sent through a few days ago.
The flowers are browning at the edges; another testament to the frailty of life. Its presence disturbs me, as if mocking the reason we've returned, and I refuse to acknowledge what it's telling me. That Daniel is dead.
I shove it off to the side with my foot before Carter and Teal'c step through. I should have expected it would be here. Where else would the damn thing go? Never stopped to think about it. I sure had enough other things keeping my mind occupied.
I hear the other two members of my team behind me, and the gate shuts down. Giving them a quick look and a nod, I walk down the steps and we're off. I'm not wasting any time on this one. Not any more.
There's a soft murmur of distress behind me. Carter's discovered the wreath as well, but I give her some privacy and keep right on moving, my body intent on the path it's traveling, even if my mind is still back on that damn wreath by the gate.
Hammond had ordered it, taking care of all the details for the memorial service. He's a stand-up guy, our general. One of the best CO's, if not the best, that I've ever served under.
Pretty good at keeping a secret too. I know for a fact my recent request for retirement went no further than his ears. I'm glad for that, since I'm not sure what I was thinking. Must have been a knee-jerk reaction.
Don't know why this freaked me out so much. I've lost men before. Good men. Good friends. Shouldn't be different this time. I sure as hell never decided to retire because of losing someone.
At least, not because I lost someone in my command.
But standing there the day of the wake in my driveway with that hockey stick in my hands and the broken glass scattered around my feet, retirement was sounding like a pretty good option. Maybe the only option. Because the only thing that had saved me from the man I'd become the first time I retired was the man we were holding the damn wake for. And I think, maybe, without him around...well, let's just say I wouldn't be the man I am.
I've managed to keep that little fact to myself. Kept it very well hidden, especially when I went back to Abydos to get him and snubbed him for Skaara. Not what I meant to do. Not what I'd planned to do, all those long, cold nights sitting up on my rooftop, trying to figure out which speck of light I'd left him on. Sitting there, watching my breath and freezing my tail off, I thought if I ever had the chance to see him again, I'd...hell, I'd probably hug him. Hold onto his shoulders, look him in the eyes and tell him thank you. Thank you for saving my life. In more ways than just taking that staff blast for me.
But if I'd done that, he'd have known. Known what I already knew even way back then, that I cared about him more than I'd let myself care about anyone in a long time. It's funny how the simple act of sacrificing yourself to save a person's life can cause that to happen.
These past couple of days, I'm fairly certain I've made a complete and total idiot of myself. Sitting hunched up in that infirmary, hugging my knees, not really caring if Teal'c took out the orderly. Blazing out of there faster than a bat out of hell when Frasier said the exam could wait. Losing it, nearly, in front of General Hammond. On camera, for God's sake. That one was pretty priceless.
Of course, it doesn't quite compare to the hockey incident. What the hell was I thinking? Could I have made it any more obvious to EVERYBODY that I was over the edge? That losing Daniel, my own personal geek, was what sent me over the brink? My life has always been about control, about discipline, about cover-ups and deception. Let people see only what you want them to. How the hell could I have blown that so royally? Might as well just cut open my chest and let my heart bleed out for everyone to see.
Except that's kind of what it felt like. That God-awful hurt that consumes you, leaves you unable to think about anything else, leaves you begging for anything that will make the pain stop. That black hole of all-encompassing pain that leaves you wishing for those blissful few seconds before you're fully awake, before you remember...
Remember that your life's been ripped apart.
And it can never be put back together.
I'd felt that kind of grief before. Never wanted to feel it again. Losing Charlie was...
No. Not going there. It's not the same. Daniel's not my son, for all the parental guidance I give him, he's not Charlie, even if those blue eyes look so remarkably similar gazing up at me from under that long blonde hair. Nothing will ever compare to losing my Charlie.
But losing Daniel comes damn close. He's not my son. Just my friend. My best...
Alright, hold up here. Where the hell did that come from? Best friend? I haven't had a best friend since...well, since never, unless you count Sara. Best friend sounds so...junior high.
Except I think it's more than that. Daniel and I have been through hell and back, and we've done it together. There's so much more to him than that sneezing mass of geekiness I saw the first time I ever laid eyes on him, standing next to that blackboard. May not have shown on my face, but I was laughing inside. Laughing at all the so-called brainiacs in that room. They had two years of their best work shown up in two weeks by a long-haired archeological reject. If you'd told me then that I'd be ready to retire after losing Dr. Daniel Jackson, I'd have...
Well, I guess I might have believed you, because I knew it even then, back on Abydos, the first trip, the maiden voyage. I wouldn't have admitted it. Maybe not even seen it. My view was a little cloudy back then. But I would have believed in the potential.
Like I believe in Daniel's potential. I truly believe he is the smartest man I have ever known. And not just book smart. Common sense for his own well-being may not be his strong point, but aside from that, he doesn't just think outside the box, he lives outside the box. I don't think he even knows there IS a box. Because that would mean limits, and that's a word I know he doesn't understand. It's too close to the word `orders.' Also not a personal favorite of his. I know this, because I know him. I know him well.
After all, he's my best friend.
Okaaaaay. So maybe admitting it wasn't that bad. To myself anyway. Don't think I'm ready to admit it to him, or anyone else for that matter. May never be. That's just not my style. But here, in the privacy of my own mind, I can say it. No harm done. And maybe, just maybe, it gives me an excuse for acting like a total idiot these past few days. Even if it's only an excuse to myself. Everyone else, well, they can draw their own conclusions.
And if they draw the same one, well, they'd better keep it to themselves. Because no way am I `fessing up to that one.
The water's getting closer now, and I break into a trot, Carter and Teal'c keeping pace without missing a beat. My eyes scan the horizon, but there's no sign of him.
"Daniel!" Somehow, calling out his name makes me feel better.
"Maybe we're too late."
I can't believe Carter said that, and I give voice to my thoughts without being aware of it. "I'm not leaving here without him this time, Captain."
There's a disturbance in the water. I don't know what it is, but at the same time, it seems oddly familiar. I keep my weapon ready, and I wait.
**********
*Daniel*
Okay, okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. It must be a long way up. Oh, wow. Not sure I'm going to make it. But I can't turn back now. I've got to make it. This is my only chance.
Suddenly, my body breaks through the surface, and I draw in the most wonderful breath I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Air! God, this is good. I struggle to stand up in water that's still almost too deep, and I see them.
It doesn't make sense. They're not supposed to be here. They think I'm dead. And yet, here they are. They came back for me. I should have known they would. I should have believed in them.
I suddenly notice their weapons are pointed straight at Nem. No...God, Jack, no. Don't...
"Don't shoot!" I yell it out and hastily try to make my way to the shallower water. I feel the uneven ground beneath me, and I slip back into the water. Only me.
But just as quickly I'm back on my feet, standing on the shore, and I see, thankfully, that Jack hasn't fired. He actually listened to me. Wow. That's...that's different.
I remind Nem I told him all I could, and I ask if I can go.
He says yes. Thank God. I'm going home. I could sleep for a week.
**********
*Jack*
Okay. Not sure I believe this. The kid's standing there, looking like death warmed over and talking to blue and scaly. Something about giving him the answer. Fish-guy says he can go. And how typical is this? Instead of saying thank you and making his way out of this popsicle stand as fast as his wobbly legs can carry him, my archeological geek decides to try and negotiate, see if he can't hammer out a treaty while we're here. My scientist geek chimes right in, explaining that's why we'd come in the first place. Never misses an opportunity, our good Captain-Doctor.
Seems like fish-guy is the only one with any sense, as he politely declines. And just before he heads off into the sunset, er, ah, ocean, he says something that sets my Daniel-radar tingling...
"And in time, Daniel, you will find what fate Sha'uri."
He knows about Sha'uri? Now that's a conversation I would have liked to have been part of, seeing as my good friend Daniel tends to be the most tight-lipped guy I know when it comes to discussing anything personal. Second only to me, but I've got my reasons.
So does he, I guess.
I shake my head...I can't keep my eyes off Daniel, can't believe he's standing here with us, whole and unharmed. I think. I huff out a little breath and make my way over to him, along with the rest of my team.
He waves vaguely at the water, catching my eye. "Uh, this...this is a long story."
"I'll bet," Carter answers, with a super-sized grin on her face. Even Teal'c is smiling. On the inside. I'm sure of it.
"Tell us about it over sushi?" I ask, and Daniel looks up at me. I can see his lips twitching, and I'm insanely pleased that despite whatever happened to him here, he's still our Daniel. I feel an ache in my cheeks and I'm embarrassed to realize my own smile rivals Carter's.
**********
*Sam*
The scientist in me wonders how much emotional turmoil one person can take. These last few days have held more ups and downs than the Dow. This `up' though...this is better than I would have believed possible after everything that's gone on.
I shudder when I think about what would have happened if we hadn't started questioning our memories. If the colonel hadn't stubbornly refused to accept what should have been obvious, that Daniel was dead.
But he's not. He's safe, and he's here, and we're heading home. He mentions that he just wants to get some sleep.
The colonel starts the walk back to the gate, and even with his eyes hidden behind his shades, I can see the mischief written there. "Ahhh, home...about that apartment..."
Daniel's reaction is everything he hoped for, as he once again seems to know exactly what the colonel is thinking. "Oh, you didn't..."
I decide to join in the fun. "The day after the memorial service."
"Memorial service?" Daniel parrots, and he looks a little taken aback, so I try to boost his spirits.
"The colonel said some really nice things." I notice the same colonel has suddenly gone silent, though a smile still plays on his lips. I imagine the eulogy he gave isn't a topic he'll ever discuss with Daniel.
"Oh, he did... he did?" Now the disbelief is plainly evident, and my heart takes pity on him. I honestly don't think he realizes how much grief we've endured over his `loss.' I walk up next to him and take hold of his arm. Looking down at me, I can see the question in his eyes, and I smile and nod, squeezing his bicep. Yes, Daniel. It's true. We missed you. We all missed you.
And we're glad you're back.
**********
*Jack*
The gate's just ahead of us now, and it's a damn welcome sight. Daniel's been shivering and doing his best to hide it from me. I don't even have a jacket to offer him. The fact he's feeling that cold in 90 degree heat raises my Daniel-radar another notch. Add to that the fact he's been reasonably silent on the walk back, rather than chattering away about his experience like a dozen monkeys on speed, and I get that feeling in the back of my neck, the one I've learned to hate with a passion.
Whatever's coming, it ain't gonna be good.
He glances up at me, and I see him attempt a smile. He doesn't say anything, but I hear him as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud. `I'm fine, Jack. Nothing to worry about, okay?'
How many times have I heard that before? And isn't it usually just before it all hits the fan?
I shake my head at him, and offer a half-hearted smile. He stumbles, and my hand reaches out automatically to grab him by the arm. He catches himself and keeps going, so I move my hand up to his shoulder and give him a little squeeze, leaving my hand there for reassurance as we make the final leg of this journey.
That damn wreath is still sitting there, mocking me. I glance over at Carter and she catches my eye. I can see I'm not the only one who hates the sight of it. With a nod of my head, I indicate the DHD to her, and she walks over to it to begin dialing us home. My hand slips off Daniel's shoulder as he turns to look back at the flowers, and I feel my face harden even as I know exactly where his mind's going. Don't, Daniel. Just don't.
Don't ask us about it...
**********
*Daniel*
Jack's been giving me that look again, the one where he's trying to figure out whether I'm capable of standing on my own two feet. Or, rather, capable of remaining on my own two feet, which is actually starting to look doubtful. This headache is reaching monumental proportions, and 'm not stupid enough to blame my lack of glasses. I feel a little dizzy too, though I'm not admitting that out loud. I try and smile at him, but I can see he's not buying it. Damn. Gonna have to work on that. Worked on every foster parent I ever had, and more than a few social workers. Don't tell me it's failing me now.
I stumble and nearly go down again, but Jack is quicker, and his hand on my shoulder is a welcome comfort, more than he'll ever know, and I finally figure out how it is he can see behind the smile I offer when all the others couldn't...
He actually gives a damn whether I'm alright or not.
The others, well, let's just say their life was easier if they believed I really was fine. Easier for them, since they didn't need to deal with me, and easier for me, since they usually left me alone.
Worked for both of us.
I can't really say whether or not I'm glad it no longer works with my current `foster family.'
We're at the gate at last, and even as I register I'm mere moments from my home away from...well, I guess just home, I notice something unusual lying on the steps by the gate platform and feel Jack's hand slip away even as his face darkens.
"What's this, guys?" I ask stupidly.
Jack's face hardens and he says nothing. Carter blinks and turns away. Apparently the DHD needs her total concentration. It's Teal'c who answers.
"They are flowers, DanielJackson. It is a custom of the Tauri to use flowers such as these as a memorial to a warrior who has fallen in battle."
A warrior? Me? Yeah, right. Except as I'm standing there next to Jack, shivering in spite of the sun shining down on my back, it hits me. They thought I was dead. I mean, really dead. They thought I wasn't coming back. They had my *funeral.* The thought of the word sends a chill racing down my spine.
I take a look at Jack, and don't like what I see. This mask he's wearing, I've seen it before. It's the look he gets when he's keeping the tightest control of his emotions, making sure not the slightest glimmer of feeling or pain escapes. And I get it finally. I have an idea what this must have done to him. At least, I know what it would have done to me if the situation were reversed; if he were the one who was never coming home.
I can rationalize my own reaction if it had been Jack that had died. Or supposedly died. It's not like I have a whole lot of friends. Not a whole lot of people in my life right now that I can count on, that I can lean on. My wife, my beautiful wife...she's gone. What little family I had is now light years away. The only people know I can rely on are the ones standing by my side right now. Sam, and Teal'c. And Jack, most of all.
I tell myself it's because I've known him the longest. That makes sense, right? That whole thing we went through together that first time on Abydos; it's only natural I would feel a certain closeness, a certain kinship with him. And when he came back a year later to get me...well, if our reunion wasn't exactly what I had imagined, it did seem pretty typical of Jack. At least, the Jack I know now. The one, I have to admit, I like a whole lot better than the first Jack I met.
When we returned to the SGC that day, I remember how lost I felt standing in that hallway in someone else's clothes, without a friend in the world. That's where Jack found me that first night. He took me home, gave me a place to stay, and made sure I knew I did have a friend. At least one.
He opened up his home to me, and I stayed with him until I got back on my feet. When I finally moved into my own apartment, I had mixed feelings about it. I liked having someone around to talk to on the nights I actually made it off the mountain. I'm not sure, but I think Jack liked it too.
It makes sense that to me, losing Jack would be like losing my best friend. I'm not sure I could stand it if I lost him too. Not after Sha'uri. And he promised me we'd get her back. I believe him. God, I just hope it's soon.
I'm not quite sure if losing me would have the same effect on Jack. I know we're teammates. I think we're friends. But I'm not sure he holds me in the same high esteem I hold him.
Then again, it's not like he has a whole lot of people in his life right now. Certainly not many he's close to. I've gotten the feeling that he doesn't let people inside that inner circle. He keeps to himself and uses his humor to deflect any breeches of his personal world. I know he prefers it that way. He doesn't talk about himself much. But he's talked some to me.
So maybe he does rely on me a bit more than I'm aware of. Maybe it would bother him if I were no longer around. Or maybe not. I'll probably never know.
Sam's got the gate going, and I watch as she punches the code into the GDO. Won't be long now.
God, I'm so tired.
**********
*Teal'c*
DanielJackson does not look well. Though he does his best to hide it from us, I believe him to be in great pain. His eyes are tired. I have watched him as we have traveled back to the Stargate, ready to offer my assistance if needed. However, O'Neill has been by his side for this journey, and I believe his need to help his young friend is greater than my own. I could see clearly how the death of DanielJackson affected my warrior friend. Of the humans I have met, none have better control of their emotions than O'Neill. I believe he would have made a fine Jaffa.
The fact that his emotions were clearly displayed gives evidence to how deeply they were felt.
DanielJackson has nearly fallen yet again, and I see O'Neill reach for him. My own pace quickens. We must get our comrade home quickly.
**********
*Sam*
I don't think the Colonel has taken his eyes off of Daniel since he popped out of the water behind Nem.
I can't say I blame him. I feel the same way. In fact, my hand is itching to reach out and grab Daniel, just to make sure he's real.
He doesn't look so good, and I'm not the only one who's noticed. He's quiet too, despite my attempts to draw him into conversation. He's shut down after that little burst of energy when we first found him. That's not like Daniel. He never runs out of energy. But then, from what I can gather, not only has he not had a lot of sleep these past few days, I'm reasonably certain he hasn't had any caffeine either. Not a good combination where he's concerned.
I can tell by the way he's holding himself that his head hurts. No wonder, between the lack of caffeine and the lack of glasses. The colonel had silently offered Daniel his sunglasses just after we started out, and Daniel took them with a look of thanks. Strange how words seem unnecessary between those two.
Won't be long now, Daniel. Just hang in there a little longer.
We get to the gate, and both the colonel and I make a point of ignoring that stupid wreath. I don't know why the dumb thing bothers me so much, but it does. The colonel gives a silent order for me to dial us home, and I'm grateful for something to do. I glance up at Daniel as he processes Teal'c's response, and I can see the moment he gets it. The moment he realizes exactly how hard this was. On all of us.
He catches my eye and shrugs in that self-deprecating, slightly embarrassed manner he has. God, I would have missed that. Suddenly, it hits me. He's here, right in front of me, and we're bringing him home! The dark feelings lift, and I find myself smiling as I punch in the code. Without waiting for a response from the SGC, I walk over and wrap my arms around him.
He looks at me, startled. This time it's my turn to shrug in response to his unasked question, and I gaze into his eyes as I answer. "Just glad we're bringing you home, Daniel."
He smiles in return, and for a moment, there's a light in his eyes. The response comes over the GDO and it's back to business. "We're cleared to go, sir," I say, as my gaze shifts to my commanding officer.
He acknowledges it with a nod of his head. "Ladies first, Captain."
"Yes, sir." I give Daniel a last little grin and step through the gate to a room that's standing room only. General Hammond is at the bottom of the ramp, flanked closely by Dr. Frasier and Sergeant Davis. Surrounding him are more than two dozen other various personnel, aside from the normally assigned SFs, and every single one of them has their gaze locked on the gate. I know they're all waiting for a miracle to step through.
I so glad we don't have to disappoint them...it just so happens we brought one with us.
**********
*Jack*
Daniel looks a little lost at the moment. Carter's stepped through, and I expect him to follow, but he's just sort of standing there. His hand sneaks up to his face, and I watch him remove the sunglasses and pinch the bridge of his nose before moving it to the back of his head and working the muscles in his neck. Still, he hasn't taken a step toward the event horizon.
"Danny?" I call out, keeping my voice low, so as not to further aggravate his all too apparent headache.
He turns a questioning gaze on me, eyes not quite focused, and that radar of mine moves up another notch.
I walk up to him and place a hand under his elbow. "What say we get you home, okay?" My tone is quiet, that same voice I used to settle Charlie after a nightmare, gentle and reassuring.
"Oh." I can tell by his face he feels a little stupid for not having gone through on his own. He's not quite firing on all cylinders, so I leave my hand on his elbow and guide him towards the shimmering blue light.
I glance over my shoulder at Teal'c, and see my favorite Jaffa has not missed the meaning behind this interchange. He stands watchful and vigilant, ready to assist if needed. Knowing he'll be right behind us, I lead Daniel through.
The trip through the wormhole has improved greatly since Carter and Siler installed those inertia dampeners on our gate, but it's still not without that lovely roller coaster feeling. I can only imagine what it feels like to Daniel in his current state. And despite the fact our molecules are supposedly broken up into millions of pieces, when we emerge on the other side, my hand is still holding onto his arm.
That never ceases to amaze me.
Carter's waiting ahead of us on the ramp, smiling again, and she is most definitely not alone. I haven't seen this many people in the Gateroom since...well, since the memorial service a few days ago. Not so surprisingly, they're mostly the same faces. A collective sigh goes through the crowd, and I see the grin on Hammond's face before it begins reflecting on those around him. He's nodding his head with definite approval. Next to him stands our good Dr. Frasier, and I have to say, she's a lot less scary when she smiles. Someone in the back begins to applaud, and within seconds the noise in the gateroom is deafening.
Daniel is reeling from the trip, and I tighten my grip. His complexion has gone a couple of shades lighter than pale, and there's a startled look on his face as he takes in the crowd. He turns to me, and I can see his mind trying to process it all.
"Jack?" he says hesitantly.
"Easy, Daniel. Just a few folks who wanted to make sure you made it home." Low voice, soothing tones. Nothing to be afraid of here.
He nods absently, still obviously stunned by the reaction of all these people who have come to know and respect him without his even being aware of it. "Oh," he says, glancing down at his feet. "Really?" he murmurs, his eyes darting briefly up to my face, and I feel my gut clench at the realization that even with the evidence right here in front of him, he still can't believe it. Can't believe there are people in this world who give a damn about him. Who care whether or not he lives or dies.
"Really," I confirm, putting as much conviction into my response as I can. I hold his gaze for a moment, making sure the message gets through.
It's not long before he drops his eyes, and I take pity on him. I let go of his elbow only long enough to slide an arm around his shoulders, intending to lead him down the ramp and into the capable hands of Dr. Frasier. I can tell by the daggers she's shooting in my direction she wants him in her infirmary. As in now.
Daniel's feet aren't cooperating. He hasn't taken a step. Anxious to get him taken care of, I prod his arm. "Daniel? You doing okay?" If possible, he looks even paler, and it isn't because of the standing ovation he's currently receiving.
He glances at me again, looking lost. "Actually, I'm not feeling too hot..."
Even as the words are leaving his mouth, I watch his eyes roll backwards in his head and feel him go limp and slide to the floor. "Daniel?" My other arm comes around him immediately, taking his weight, and I manage to control his descent and keep him from going headlong off the ramp until we're both down and he's lying half on top of me.
"It's okay, buddy. I've got you." The words are out without any conscious thought on my part.
I see Frasier double-time it our way, her heels clicking on the metal beneath us, and then she's bending over, Daniel's wrist already grasped in her hand. The medics are right behind her, no doubt having been standing by for our return.
His head is cradled in my lap, his eyes fluttering as he struggles to stay awake. I lay a hand on top of his head, wanting to offer comfort but afraid to get in the medic's way. The touch draws his attention to me, and as he looks up, I can see the fear in his eyes. "Relax, Daniel. It's okay. Doc's going to take care of you. We've got you covered. Just take it easy, alright? Take it easy."
My words continue, meaningless ramblings that I repeat over and over, wanting him to know that he's not alone. His hand comes up, seeking something to hold onto, and I offer him mine. This more than anything seems to relax him, and his eyes slide closed.
Within moments they've loaded him onto the gurney and I'm forced to relinquish his hand as they move off toward the elevator at a rapid pace.
Without a glance to Carter or Teal'c, both of whom I know will be steps behind me, I make my way from the gateroom, stopping briefly in front of the general. "Sir," I begin, ready to plead with him and hoping desperately for his understanding.
It seems I have it, as he waves me off. "Go. I'll be right behind you, Colonel, and you can fill me in on Dr. Jackson's situation."
Nodding gratefully, I stalk out of the Gateroom, not even aware of the sea of people parting before me.
**********
*Janet*
Damn. I was hoping Dr. Jackson would be brought back through the gate in one piece. Somehow, I don't think that's going to be status quo where this young man is involved. I wish he'd at least make it further than the ramp before collapsing. My medical team is already working on an assessment, even as we navigate the hallways. I shine my light into his eyes, not surprised to see his pupils are dilated. His reaction is not unexpected, as he tries to pull away and groans deep in his throat. We make the turn into the infirmary, and his lids flutter as he starts to come around.
"Daniel?"
"S'ck. Oh, God. Gonna be sick."
"Alright, roll him!" I yell, watching as the orderlies come to a stop and turn him on his side to keep his airway clear. He loses the contents of his stomach over the edge of the gurney and one of my nurses scrambles to get a basin under him. Once the nausea passes, he's returned to his back.
"Blood pressure is 90/40. Pulse is 118."
I hear the vitals called out and do a little mental calculation, not liking what I come up with. We've made it as far as the bed. One of the orderlies moves to his head and grabs the gurney sheet while two of the medics do the same along various points of his body.
"One, two, three," and he's shifted over to the bed with nary a bump.
"Daniel? I need you to look at me, okay?" He opens his eyes to half-mast, struggling to focus on my face. I shift until I'm directly in his line of vision. "Daniel, tell me what's going on here."
He licks his lips, grimacing at the taste left in his mouth. "Headache. Bad."
No further information seems to be forthcoming, so I keep prodding. "Like your migraines? Or different?"
"D'ffrent. Worse. Much worse. Oh, God..."
"Alright, Daniel, we'll get you something for the pain as soon as we can. But I need to run some test firsts, okay? Can you tell me if you hit your head recently? Lost consciousness?"
"Not `xactly."
His eyes roll back again, and I know it won't be long before I lose him. "Daniel? Stay with me, Daniel!"
He tries to rally, and I lay a hand on his arm to get his attention. There's movement beside me, and I see the colonel out of the corner of my eye. Just as I'm about to tell him to get the hell out of my way, he looks at me directly, before reaching to take Daniel's hand, the one the nurse isn't currently inserting an IV into.
"Daniel?" His voice is quiet, but it cuts directly through the noise and confusion around us. "Danny, we need some answers here. Come on. Wake up enough to tell the Doc here what's going on, okay?"
Like magic, Daniel's eyes open again, and this time it's the man next to me that holds all his attention. "J'ck?"
"Right here, Danny. Answer the doc, okay?"
I take my cue and jump in. "Daniel, did you or did you not hit your head while you were gone?"
The head in question gives a slight shake in a negative response. "There was a machine," he begins, his words sliding off.
"A machine? The one that was used on Colonel O'Neill and the others?"
"I guess." Again, his eyes drift shut.
"Daniel!" Only to open again at the sound of the colonel's voice.
"What about the machine, Daniel? Did he use it on you?"
The nurses work on cutting off his wet clothing, and warming blankets are nearby. The cool air hits his exposed skin, and seems to waken him further, and there is the first bit of lucidity within his gaze.
"He...he needed answers. About what happened...to his mate. Said the knowledge was there in my mind. I told him to take it."
"Take it?" This came from the colonel, and it was impossible to miss the edge of steel in his voice. "How the hell did he take it, Daniel?"
"Don't know. Hooked me up to the machine. Looked for the answer. H'rt. He said...s'd it might damage me." He gave a weak chuckle as his eyes lost their battle to remain open. "Guess he was right, huh?"
"Alright, Daniel, you can rest now, okay? I'm going to order a CT scan and a few other tests. Then we'll make you as comfortable as possible." I reach for the clipboard nearby and begin jotting down the various tests I want performed.
The colonel hasn't moved yet. "What the hell were you thinking, Daniel? Offering yourself up to let him do that to you?" The harshness of his words is belied by the softness of his voice, and his hand repeatedly strokes the hair back from his friend's forehead.
"Sorry...J'ck."
The hand doesn't stop or even falter. "It's okay, Danny. It's going to be okay. Doc here is going to make sure of it."
I turn away before they can read the doubt in my eyes, incredibly touched at the faith placed in me, yet afraid of it at the same time.
I hope to God he's right.
**********
*Sam*
We've been waiting in the hallway outside the infirmary forever. Seems like hours, even though I know we came through the gate less than 45 minutes ago. Teal'c hasn't moved from his position by the door. Me, I've been pacing back and forth, while the colonel is slumped down on the floor with his back against the wall, his arms draped over his bent knees. There's been no further word from inside since the colonel emerged nearly half an hour ago.
General Hammond walks towards us, and the colonel makes a move to get to his feet before the general waves him down.
"At ease, Colonel." Hammond comes to a stop near his 2iC and gazes down at him with a look of compassion on his face. "Any word yet?"
"No, sir." The colonel's voice is low and gravelly and he clears his throat. "Doc's running a bunch of tests."
"Yes, I imagine she is. Did Dr. Jackson give you any indication of what he was feeling or what might have caused this?"
"He told Janet that alien guy used the same machine on him that he did on the rest of us, sir. But instead of giving him a memory, it appears he took something instead."
"Did Dr. Jackson tell you what the creature was looking for?"
"He said that it was looking for information about his mate. We didn't really get any details, sir."
"Daniel didn't talk much on the walk back to the gate, General," I chime in, feeling a need to rescue the colonel.
"Yes, well, maybe if you'd taken the time to question him, we'd have a few more answers right now." Janet exits the infirmary, removing the white mask from her face.
This time the colonel does climb to his feet, running a hand over the back of his neck and looking impossibly weary. "Yeah. You're probably right."
He sounds more than defeated, and hearing our normally upbeat CO not bothering to defend himself raises my hackles. I face Janet head on, though it's to the general I speak. "He wasn't exactly up to questioning, sir. We could see he was in pain, and we just wanted to get him back here as soon as possible."
Something of the fire I'm feeling must show in my eyes, because Janet holds up her arms in acquiescence. "Easy, Captain Carter. I'm not laying out any accusations here. I'm just wishing I had more information to deal with, that's all."
I nod and stand down slightly, but not before the colonel flashes me a grateful, if weary smile.
"What do you know, Dr. Frasier?"
Janet faces the general to give her official report, but she's surrounded by three other pairs of anxious eyes. "At this point, sir, I don't know anything for certain. I'm still waiting for the results of the CT scan. The lumbar puncture we did shows there was blood in Daniel's cerebrospinal fluid, which, combined with his other symptoms supports my theory that he's suffering from a brain aneurysm, which has more than likely ruptured since his symptoms are evident. While I don't know anything about this alien technology, from what Daniel was able to tell me it sounds very probable that the repeated heavy exposure he experienced caused a weakening of one of the blood vessels in the brain. The CT scan should show us for certain if an aneurysm exists."
"An aneurysm?" the colonel echoes, his voice subdued. "Those are treatable, right Doc?"
Janet shifts her gaze to him and sighs. "Usually, colonel. However, time is of the utmost here. We have two options for treatment, and he'll more than likely be in surgery within the hour. But if it hasn't been caught in time...it could result in stroke...or death." She drops her gaze to the floor, and for the first time, I wonder how often in her career she's been forced to deliver this kind of news.
And I wonder how many times we'll be called upon to hear it.
**********
*Jack*
She couldn't have just said what I thought she said. Stroke? Daniel? I thought...I thought it was just a headache. I mean, we found him, right? It had to have been in time. What kind of a sick cosmic joke would have us find him, bring him back from the dead, only to lose him all over again?
"Stroke?" The word comes out wrong, like something's stuck in my throat. This was the one fear I latched onto, somehow sensing that in Daniel's case, having that incredible mind of his locked within a body that followed only half of its commands would be a fate far worse than death.
"It's one of the possibilities, Colonel, but it's only that...a possibility. Daniel is young and strong and he could come through this with no residual effects at all. We'll know more in a little while."
"Keep us posted, Doctor." General Hammond's voice barely cuts through the buzzing in my ears.
"Of course, sir. I've already taken the liberty of getting Daniel prepped for surgery, and I've put in a request for one of the neurovascular surgeons from the Academy hospital. He's on his way in as we speak."
"Excellent. Is there anything else you need?"
"Actually, sir...the second treatment option I mentioned is far and away a better choice for Daniel if he's a candidate for it. It's a much less invasive procedure with a quicker recovery period and fewer risks of disability called endovascular coiling. It's not a surgical procedure. There is a colleague of mine who specializes in this procedure out of Denver. With your permission..."
"Absolutely. I'll get on the horn immediately and see about getting him flown in asap." Fraser gives him a name, and he walks away to carry through on his promise.
Frasier nods and starts to make her way back into the infirmary, but I grab hold of her arm until she turns her questioning gaze upon me.
"Doc? Can we see him? Before?"
Her eyes soften slightly. "I need to make sure he's prepped and ready, Colonel, but I'll try and make certain you can have a minute with him, alright? No promises, though."
I release her arm and watch her go back through the door where Daniel is. Glancing briefly at Carter, whose emotions are clearly displayed on her face, and Teal'c, whose face appears to be set in stone, I slide back down the wall and resume my wait.
I'm grateful beyond words when the other two-thirds of my waiting team slide down and join me.
**********
*Teal'c*
We have returned DanielJackson to the capable hands of Dr. Frasier, but I fear it may not have been soon enough. He has suffered greatly at the hands of this creature who had altered our own memories. Anger burns within me at this injustice.
Dr. Frasier attempted to explain the condition of DanielJackson to us. There is much I do not understand regarding the medicinal practices of the Tau'ri. The long life and healing powers afforded to me by the infant Goa'uld I carry have not made it necessary for me to seek medical attention. There were no healers on Chu'lak. None were needed.
The identical expressions on the faces of O'Neill and CaptainCarter have led me to believe that our young friend is in grave danger. I find this unacceptable.
I watch carefully as O'Neill resumes his earlier position of comfort, yet I do not believe he is capable of resting. These past several days have taken a toll on this warrior beside me, and I can see the exhaustion he is no longer capable of masking. CaptainCarter lowers herself to sit beside him, and I observe that he is comforted by this gesture. Though I do not believe I am capable of Kel'no'reem at this time, I too lower myself to the floor.
And when I receive his smile in return, I am confident I have done the right thing.
**********
*Janet*
As I suspected, the CT scan has revealed the source of Daniel's trouble. Dr. Williams, the neurosurgeon, is already gowning up in the other room, but I've received word that our specialist is only 5 minutes away from the mountain. Williams has agreed to give Dr. Phillips a chance to review our findings in order to give Daniel the best treatment options.
I've explained everything to Daniel, told him what each treatment entails and which treatment is preferred if his condition permits. The pain having receded a bit due to the meds I've given him, he was able to follow every word, and I feel fairly certain he understood. One thing he couldn't do was hide his fear. It was there, written plainly in his deep blue eyes, and I think I know why. Having read his personnel file and seen the type of life he's had since the death of his parents, something tells me this particular young man has a survivor's instinct unlike any I've yet seen.
I have to get myself gowned up and prepare to meet with Dr. Phillips, but before I do, there's a promise I have to keep. I gently pat Daniel's leg and give him a reassuring look, leaving him in care of my nurses as I make my way out the infirmary door. The sight that meets my eyes is no surprise, and I smile slightly for the first time in what seems like hours.
"Colonel? There's someone who'd like to see you."
He unfolds his long frame from his position on the floor and stands, immediately heading for the door behind me. I place a hand on his chest before he passes. "Hold on, sir." He glances at me impatiently, fairly vibrating with tension. He's doing his best to play by my rules and steps back to give me his attention.
"How is he, Doc?"
I remove my hand and slide it into the pocket of my lab coat. "I gave him something to take the edge off the pain, but not enough to knock him out. He's actually quite a bit more alert than when we first got him to the infirmary."
"That's good, right?"
He turns hopeful eyes to me, and I'd give anything to be able to tell him that this will turn out alright. I know him well enough to know he'd rather have the straight truth than false hope, so I level with him. "Daniel's case is complicated simply by the fact that we don't know much about the technology we're dealing with. His CT scan did reveal an aneurysm, and due to the traces of blood in his cerebrospinal fluid, I have to assume it has ruptured. He's been prepped for surgery, but we're waiting for the endovascular coiling specialist to arrive. No matter how you look at this, Colonel, there are serious risks involved. For one thing we don't know if this is an isolated incident, or if the device has caused weakening in other areas of the brain. I'd like to be able to tell you that Daniel will be fine, but I can't promise you that."
He deflates before me. I can't think of any other way to describe it. But just as quickly, he rebounds, steeling himself for whatever lies ahead. I take in the anxious gazes of Sam and Teal'c behind him, and as much as I'd love to let them all in, I know it's the colonel right now that Daniel needs.
I lower my voice and look him directly in the eye. "He's scared, sir. He knows what the possibilities are, and he's trying to put on a brave front, but..."
"Got it, Doc," he responds quietly, scrubbing a hand back and forth through his hair.
For the first time I notice that he and the rest of his team have yet to change out of their desert cammies, and they all still need their post mission checks. Making a mental note to inform Dr. Warner before I scrub in, I step aside and allow Colonel O'Neill to enter the infirmary.
**********
*Jack*
He's lying on the same bed I left him on, only there's a whole lot more wires poking out from under the blanket. He's wearing one of those stupid hospital gowns that undo at the shoulders and hang open at the back. I don't know which is whiter, his face or the sheets he's lying on. It's a toss-up. I do know that he looks small and vulnerable there with his eyes closed, and I'm reminded painfully of another hospital, another time...and sheets that were not so white.
I move forward slowly, not wanting to wake him if he's dozed off, but still feeling a need to connect with him somehow. His eyes open at my approach, and I'm relieved to see their blue depths once again. I step up to the bed and shove my hands into my pockets. "Hey." I wish I could say I'm amazed at my lack of lingual ability here, now of all times, but it seems to be the norm for me.
"Hey."
Well, it's nice to see I'm not the only one lacking words. Though in his case, it's probably due to the fact that he's drugged and his brain is bleeding out, rather than just the residual emotional constipation combined with overwhelming terror that I'm currently faced with.
I don't want to lose him. Not yet.
Not again.
He reaches out the hand that doesn't have quite as many wires attached to it, and my own hand is out of my pocket so fast I'm surprised it doesn't have fabric burn. I take hold of him, and I feel the life running through his body, and suddenly I'm reassured. This is Daniel. He can beat this. I know he can.
I'm pretty sure he will.
"You doing okay?" D'oh. Lingual paralysis strikes again. Or maybe lingual stupidity this time.
He gives me a small smile. "Well, all things considered..."
"Yeah. Dumb question."
"No, not dumb. Just...okay. Dumb."
I snort a little at that, and pull up the hard-backed chair next to the bed, sitting without ever letting go of his hand. I rake my gaze over his face, quietly assessing. "You scared?"
"You know, Jack, I think that might be another..."
"Dumb question," we finish is unison.
"Sorry. I suck at this." Surprisingly, this is no great revelation to him.
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
I almost believe him. Snarky little punk.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, neither one acknowledging that I'm holding onto him for all we're worth.
"Actually," he starts to say something, but pauses for thought.
"What?" I can tell he's thinking it over, not sure whether he wants to lay this particular thought on me, and an urgency I don't want to explain comes over me. I squeeze his hand and hold his gaze, letting him know without words that I'll listen to anything he has to say. I know he's gotten the message when he speaks up again.
"I...uh...well, I'm afraid."
"Of what? Dying? You've got to trust the Doc on this one, Daniel. She's brought in the best to help you through this."
"I know that. And I'm not afraid of dying. Not really. But...if I do...die...I need to know..." He stops again and takes a big breath, turning so he's facing the ceiling and I see the control he's trying to maintain here, and I want to let him know its okay. He can let go with me. I won't mind.
He takes a deep breath and blows it out through pursed lips. This is it. "Promise me, Jack. Promise me, that if something happens, you'll keep looking for Sha'uri. You have to find her. You have to save her. If I don't make it..."
"Don't talk like that, Daniel." I can hear the anger in my voice.
"Jack, listen to me...please. Just promise me. I need to know she'll be okay."
His eyes are pleading with me, bluer than ever now that they're not hidden behind those glasses, and I see desperation clearly in them. I know he needs to hear it out loud, so I say it, a long sigh escaping before the words take shape.
"I promise, Daniel. No matter what happens, I'll keep looking for Sha'uri every time I go through that gate." Retirement be damned. This is not a promise I make lightly.
My words seem to calm him and the tension in his body eases. His grip relaxes on my hand, though he doesn't let go. His eyes close for a moment, and I give his hand a little shake to get his attention.
"Now you listen to me...you have to promise me too. You have to fight this, Daniel. Don't give up, you hear? You've got to make it through this. You've got to hang on. We need you here." My voice drops a little, becoming rougher as I struggle to contain my emotions, and I focus on the hand held within my grasp. "I need you here, okay?"
There's silence for a long moment, and I feel him staring at me. I return my gaze to his face to see a smile starting to form. It's a good sight.
"Wow," he says, the smile growing. "That was...so not what I expected you to say, Jack."
His grin is contagious, and I feel myself starting to relax a little. "Yeah, well, you know me. Never let it be said I've become predictable."
"No...no, I don't think you need to worry about that rumor going around."
"Good. Because I've got this reputation to maintain..."
"As a hard-ass colonel with a heart of stone? Relax. I think you've got that one pretty well sewn up."
I smile in earnest at the thought. "Excellent. Then my work here is done."
The orderly comes to wheel Daniel's gurney into the waiting OR, and for a moment, the fear returns. "I meant what I said, okay? Don't give up..."
He gazes at me pointedly. "Not likely. Got too much to stick around for." All too soon he's being rolled out of my line of sight.
I sit back down in the chair, and the vigil begins. I have a feeling the wait may be long.
I believe with all my heart, stone or not, that it will be worth it.
**********
*Sam*
He's been in surgery for more than two hours now, and there's been no word whatsoever. We're still here in the hallway, though someone was thoughtful enough to bring us a few chairs. I shift yet again on mine, but the colonel has barely moved. I found him sitting in the infirmary long after they'd taken Daniel down. He was staring at the floor, bent over with his hands clasped together behind his head. Much the same way he is now. He didn't look up until I'd called him several times, and when he did, there was emptiness in his gaze. I suggested he join us out in the hallway, and surprisingly, he did. That was well over an hour ago, and he has yet to say a word.
Teal'c is also beside me, as silent as ever. General Hammond has been by several times; he even brought us coffee. A few other folks have come and gone, but the wait belongs to us.
**********
*General Hammond*
It's times like these I truly feel the weight this burden of command brings. At other times, it gives me great joy to know I'm responsible for overseeing this journey into the unknown, watching as the men and women under my command bravely step forth to face things they've never seen or even imagined.
Now, though, when that thirst for knowledge has come back and bitten us on the butt, it makes me feel old beyond my years.
Dr. Jackson didn't make much of an impression when I first met him, coming through the gate with long hair, glasses held together with rotting tape and robes that smelled distinctly of yak waste. Getting in my face and demanding to be placed on the team that went searching for his wife did not exactly endear him to me. I had little use for a multiple PhD who apparently felt no guilt over allowing the world to believe he was dead.
It didn't take long for my initial feelings to change. There's something special about this particular young man. Something Colonel O'Neill saw and tried to convince me of when we first discussed his placement on SG-1. The colonel assured me Daniel was far and away worth any field training or other resources that we would have to expend to ready him for a first contact team.
He was right. In the few short months since he's been a part of the SGC, Dr. Jackson has proven his worth in the field countless times through his knowledge of languages and cultures. The mission reports from his team members have shown not only his dedication to our objective, but also his unflagging loyalty to his team members. There's no doubt he's looking for his wife every time he steps through the gate, but that search has only added to his value on SG-1, not detracted from it.
And now, that drive and dedication has led him to harm. I would like nothing more than to be able to lay aside my duties as base commander and join in the vigil taking place several floors above me. But that isn't possible, nor is it my place. The chairs outside the infirmary aren't empty. They're filled with the people who share his life day to day. His team. His family. I know not one of them would leave him alone, not after the events of the past few days. Teal'c and Captain Carter have shown their devotion to their team member by doing whatever was necessary to bring him home. I have no doubt they would be devastated by the loss of Daniel Jackson, but I believe they would survive it.
I'm not certain the same can be said of Colonel O'Neill.
He depends on that young man far more than I would have expected of a hardened, seasoned officer. At times, I find it unbelievable that a man who bleeds military would choose a vague academic for his best friend. Yet I do believe they are the best of friends. Perhaps it is the losses they have shared that bind them together, I don't know. But I don't think O'Neill can handle yet another loss.
I pray to God he doesn't have to.
The clock on the wall reminds me that regardless of the duties that await me, I'm accomplishing nothing here. It seems my place may be in the infirmary after all. I push away from the desk and go to lend my support to my people. My team. My family.
**********
*Sam*
The general has just joined us when there's a noise down the hall by the OR, and then Janet is there, still in hospital scrubs. The expression on her face doesn't offer any clues to Daniel's condition.
The colonel stands as I jump out of my chair. He watches Janet approach, and I can't help myself. I grab hold of his forearm and stand next to him, preparing myself to hear whatever news she's going to deliver. Oh, God, I hope it's good.
Teal'c has come to stand so closely beside me that I feel his chest brushing up against my back, and I'm grateful for the additional support. The three of us turn to face Janet as one unit. As it should be.
Except we're a member short.
Janet pulls the cap off her head, not bothering with niceties before reporting to General Hammond. She's not exactly smiling, but she's not exactly not, either.
"He's stable, sir. As I'd hoped, he was a good candidate for the coiling technique, so there was no surgery involved. In layman's terms, we inserted a catheter through his femoral artery and threaded the coils into the aneurysm, thereby blocking the flow of blood. There was no sign of any other weakened areas; however, there was substantial bleeding around the sight of the aneurysm."
For once, the colonel doesn't fade out at the technical explanation. "Which means?" he asks, and I feel the muscles in his forearm tighten.
Janet sighs. "The affected area of Daniel's brain is the area responsible for speech, sir. We have no way of knowing whether the damage was significant enough to cause any lasting impairment."
"So that means what, Janet? Daniel won't be able to speak?" The thought horrifies me. To have that incredible mind trapped inside, unable to communicate... Ernest's words come suddenly to me from our time with the `meaning of life' stuff. Daniel told me he'd said `there is no prize worth attaining if you can never share it.'
Daniel would hate that.
"Like I said Sam," Janet turns to me, "we have no way of knowing at this point. He could be absolutely fine. He could have a slight speech impediment, or he could have lost the ability to speak altogether. However, in the case of many brain-injured patients, the ability to speak is often something that can be re-learned. Or, Daniel can learn to communicate in other ways, through sign-language for example. But we're jumping the gun here, people. Let's not borrow trouble, okay? For now, we can be thankful that he came through the procedure as well as he did." Her gaze moves to each of us in turn, and I feel myself nodding.
"Brain-injured?" Colonel O'Neill chokes out the word, and I wonder how likely it is that his arm will rip out of my grasp and slam into a nearby wall.
"When will we know if DanielJackson will be returned to us as we know him?" Teal'c's question hits me between the eyes, and I realize how desperately I want Daniel back the way he was.
"I don't know, Mr. Teal'c. We're moving him into one of the isolation rooms now, and I expect he'll be in and out for quite a while. Though the procedure wasn't surgical, it was still performed under general anesthesia. Unfortunately, we're going to have to wait and see."
"Thank you, Dr. Frasier. I'm certain you've done the best job possible." General Hammond's voice booms from behind me. For a moment, I'd forgotten he was there.
"Can we see him now?" It's the colonel who asks the question on all our minds.
Janet's face softens. "Not yet, sir. We'll get him settled in Iso first. I'll have one of the nurses come and get you when he's ready. But please remember to limit visitors--I'm sure you all know he needs to rest." She turns and walks away, and we're left waiting again.
I become aware that I'm still hanging on to the colonel's arm, and I self-consciously let go. Heading back to my chair and sitting down, I take up his habit of staring at the floor.
He sits beside me, and to my surprise, lays a hand on my arm. I lift my eyes to see warm brown ones gazing back at me, and I'm embarrassed by the moisture I feel rapidly gathering behind my lids.
"He's going to be okay, Carter."
I react to that with a laugh of disbelief. Looking deeper into his eyes, there's only confidence, and I'm confused. "How do you know, sir?"
"I just do."
For some reason, that's enough for me.
**********
*Jack*
It's quiet in here now. Damn quiet. Just me, the nurse hovering in the corner, the beeping of several machines and the soft sound of Daniel's breathing. The last is rhythmic and soothing, though not as soothing as it would be if he'd wake up and launch into some incredibly fascinating diatribe on the merits of Akkadian vs. Sumerian cuneiform.
God. I'm actually wishing I were listening to one of his lectures instead of wanting to shut him up. How pathetic am I?
Carter and Teal'c hung in here with me for the last four hours, until I finally ordered them to have their post-mission checks done and get some sleep. They left, but they weren't happy about it. I'm so going to be hearing about that later.
Frasier was kind enough to come in and do as much of my own check as she could here in the room with Daniel, allowing me to leave the rest of it until later. She didn't even try to order me out of here.
Huh. Imagine that.
It's a little after 2100 hours now, and Daniel hasn't so much as fluttered an eyelid. I tell myself that doesn't mean anything.
I don't think I'm listening.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I nearly fall out of my chair. Frasier has snuck up behind me. Damn. I'm supposed to be Special Ops trained. So much for that.
She hands me a cup of coffee and I take it gratefully, wondering how she knew I take it black with two sugars. I imagine Carter had something to do with it.
"Sir?"
I clear my throat and stand up for a moment after placing the cup on the floor near my chair, stretching for all I'm worth. I think the knot in my back is becoming permanent. "Yeah?"
"Why don't you head over to your quarters, see if you can get some sleep? I'll send someone over if there's any change."
It's a request, not an order. Ranking officer or not, I know better than to cross the doc on an order, so I'm thankful she hasn't made one. "Thanks, Doc. But I want to be here when he wakes up. Let him see a familiar face and all that. Is he, uh, likely to be waking up anytime soon?"
She sighs with the weight of the world, and I decide I don't like that sound. Not at all.
"Honestly, Colonel, I don't know. We prefer to awaken most patients within an hour or so after the anesthesia, but Dr. Jackson doesn't seem to want to wake up. While this would normally concern me, I know he was exhausted after his ordeal and he does seem to be asleep, not unconscious. But I would have liked to see him open his eyes by now." She reaches over and takes his wrist and makes a show of checking her watch, but I'm no idiot. I know Daniel's pulse is clearly displayed on the monitor in front of us.
As if on cue, Daniel's head shifts slightly towards the sound of our voices. I hold my breath, waiting to see if he's going to open his eyes. They come reluctantly to half mast, close, and then open once again. I move around to the other side of the bed, allowing Frasier access while still maneuvering to stay in his line of sight.
"Danny?" I keep it soft and wait for his eyes to turn in my direction and focus on me, but there's no response.
"Daniel? Can you hear me?" Frasier's voice cuts through the background noise, and she has that damn penlight out faster than I can say Jackrabbit, leaning over the bed to pry open his eyes and shine it in. He doesn't even flinch, and I can't say I like that much.
Grabbing his arm, I give it a little shake, getting ready to put a little more command into my tone as I try again for his attention. But his eyes slide shut once more, and this time they don't reopen.
I'm still holding onto his arm as I catch Janet's eye. "Doc?" She seems to know what I'm asking, because she doesn't make me finish the question.
"Don't jump to any conclusions, Colonel. He's obviously still out of it, but that doesn't mean anything yet. Give him a little more time, okay? We'll know more by morning."
I nod, but not happily, and walk back to the hard plastic chair, pick the coffee mug up off the floor and settle in for more waiting.
**********
*Janet*
I know the colonel isn't happy. I'd have liked a little more recognition from Daniel myself. And a spoken word or two would have been a delight. However, taking into account the fact that he's had no sleep and little food for the past several days, I'm not surprised the anesthesia has thrown him for a loop.
It's times like these that make me glad I have no one to rush home to. I pat the colonel's shoulder in reassurance and decide to head back to my office. I can spend the night keeping watch from there.
**********
*Daniel*
God.
So tired.
Don't want to wake up.
Think I'm supposed to, but damned if I can remember why. Think I'll just roll over instead and go back to sleep. Except...
Someone called me? Did I imagine that?
Am I supposed to answer?
The voice is familiar, and something in the tone makes me want to respond. It promises safety and comfort. It promises home.
There's an extremely annoying beeping going on right next to my ear. What the hell is that? It sounds like something I should recognize. I puzzle it out a bit longer, but I'm still not opening my eyes. Not until they make me.
I finally identify the sound, and I sigh. Infirmary. Never really did like this place. Spend a few minutes more trying to determine why exactly I'm in here, before it comes to me, and my eyes fly open.
**********
*Jack*
My neck is killing me, and I think I'm drooling.
All I know for certain is that my head is at an incredibly awkward angle, and my checks are rubbing against sheets that feel like sandpaper. A beeping nearby speeds up slightly, and I lift my head, rubbing a hand across my face in hopes it will chase away some of the cobwebs. A quick glance at my watch tells me it's just after 0600 hours.
I recognize it's an infirmary gurney I've been resting on, and the memories rush in as I realize where I am and why. My gaze shoots up to Daniel's face, and it doesn't look any different.
Except maybe it does. His eyes are still closed, but there's something...
I stand next to him and call his name softly, willing him to awaken. He doesn't, but his faces scrunches up a bit, and I'm pretty sure it was in response to my voice. I take his hand in mine and try again.
"Danny?"
His eyes open, and I can't be sure, but he seems to be looking around for something before his eyes settle on my face.
I stare back at him, willing him with everything I've got to say something. Anything. Just one word.
Come on, kid. You're killing me here...
**********
*Daniel*
I don't know why it's important to me that he's here, but it is. I look around the room for him only to see him standing right next to me, looking at me rather anxiously. Even without my glasses, I can see it's him, but I feel compelled to make sure anyway...
"J'ck?"
**********
*Jack*
I can feel the grin that's currently splitting my face, but danged if I care. My name on his lips is definitely one of the best sounds I've heard in a while, and it was well worth the wait. I squeeze his hand a bit and share the grin with him, knowing it won't be long before Frasier or one of her gurus comes in here with guns blazing. But they aren't going to tell me anything I don't already know.
Daniel's going to be just fine.
**********
*Epilogue*
*Daniel*
"Jack! I can manage, alright? Stop hovering already."
I haven't even left the base yet, and already he's driving me nuts. I suppose it's to be expected, and though I feel some vague need to protest the way he's currently mothering me, I don't really mind. Actually, it's a nice change of pace--never did get too much mothering in my life.
Sam's gone on ahead to get the car, and Jack and Teal'c have taken the liberty of signing me out of the infirmary. Janet handed a list of do's and don'ts a mile long to Jack, and an equally ample amount of medications to Teal'c (apparently she doesn't trust Jack with the meds.)
Jack immediately showed up with a wheelchair, which I adamantly refused. No way am I being escorted off the base in that thing, not as long as there's breath left in my body.
Janet naturally sides with Jack, and though I suspect Teal'c is neutral on the subject, he stands behind them and manages to look menacing. I briefly consider holding my breath or stamping my feet. I mean, if they're going to treat me like a child, I may as well act like one. However, truth be told, I'm beat.
Glaring at Jack as menacingly as I can manage, I sink down into the chair and place my feet on the pedals. Jack merely smiles innocently, which I don't believe for one instant. With a salute to Janet, he grabs the back of the chair and pushes me out the door with Teal'c hot on our tail.
The ride to the surface is made in relative silence. We pass the guard desk and head outside, where Sam has Jack's car waiting. She convinces Teal'c to ride with her, and the two of them head off to follow us as Jack helps me into the front seat. He hands the wheelchair off to the guard before climbing in and gripping the steering wheel with both hands, but he makes no move to get going.
"Jack?" Something about his sudden silence unsettles me.
"Daniel?"
"Something bugging you?"
"Noooo. Not really."
Okay. That's helpful. I wait for a minute, hoping he'll either fess up or start driving.
He glances at me before returning his gaze to the parking lot. He's anxious about something, and that always throws me. "Jack?"
He lets out a deep breath. "You sure you okay with this? You know, staying at my place? `Cuz we can head back to your apartment if you'd be more comfortable there." His gaze shifts again to my face.
I think of my apartment--the nearly empty rooms with half of my things still in boxes and the pervasive loneliness in the air--and compare it with Jack's house, where everything is in its place and the guest room feels more like my room; where I know Sam and Teal'c will join us for dinner; where I'll inevitably end up falling asleep on the couch so I don't miss a moment with my friends, and I smile.
"Oh, yeah. I'm okay with it."
He grins again, and I know he's looking forward to the company as much as I am. A week of stand-down for the four of us, followed by a week of light duty for me, and then, hopefully, I'll be cleared for full duty.
I want to get back to searching for Sha'uri as soon as possible, but I know I'm not ready for it just yet. The wait may kill me, but when it's over, I won't be searching alone.
My family will be searching with me.
That's good enough for me.
*end*
37
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by JazStory Bemerkung:
Special thanks to Darcy--this would not be the same without your awesome beta! You are the best! Any remaining errors (especially medical ones!) are mine and mine alone. And to Sid--if you hadn't kept asking 'Are you finished yet?' this story would still be lost on my hard drive. Thanks for keeping me going.Site Navigation
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