Daniel laid his head down on the desk and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair. He’d showered and scrubbed himself as clean as he could, but he was certain he’d missed a spot. There was probably still some stain, some hint of the four days he’d spent in the Kereben village. With a groan, Daniel closed his eyes and tried to divest himself of the throbbing headache that was beating its fists against the inside of his skull.
Earlier, he had sat through the post-mission debriefing in a haze. Mitchell and Teal’c had done most of the talking, and thankfully, Landry had kept the questions to a minimum. When they had been dismissed, Daniel had withdrawn immediately to his office for some over-the-counter painkillers and silence.
For a moment, he considered heading to the infirmary for some real meds, but in his line of work, the doctors tended to be a little overcautious when it came to minor health issues. He didn’t need to be barred from going through the ‘Gate while some well-meaning guy in a lab coat tried to decide if his headache was due to ‘Gate travel, alien influence, or good old fashioned stress.
Instead, he decided to stay where he was and hope the relative silence of his office would eventually lift the ache from his brain.
***
After a while, Daniel felt a presence near the door and mentally groaned at the loss of his solitude. It was probably Mitchell, coming to check up on him. For weeks, Mitchell had been fretting over Daniel’s well-being, and this recent incident with the Kerebens had only added to his list of Daniel-related concerns. Before the debriefing, he’d been pestering Daniel to “hit the bars” with him. Going out to the local dives in search of female companionship was Mitchell’s version of therapy. To be sure, there were days Daniel was tempted to take him up on the offer, but he had never been the kind of guy who picked up women in a bar.
When his visitor didn’t move to leave, Daniel lifted his head and gazed toward the door. To his surprise, Mitchell wasn’t standing there at all. It was Sam, and she was leaning against the door, gazing at him like one would look at a sunset.
Daniel blinked several times and suddenly felt aware of his probably disheveled appearance.
“Hey, Daniel,” she said quietly.
“Was I asleep?” Daniel asked, glancing at the clock. “I just laid my head down for a minute.”
“I’ve been here for ten.”
“You were watching me sleep for ten minutes?” Daniel felt a smile creeping to his lips, but he clenched his jaw to stop it, because he didn’t feel like he had the right to smile.
Sam squirmed a bit and averted her eyes from Daniel’s. “Maybe it wasn’t that long,” she said quickly. “I just came to tell you we’re on stand-down for three days. General Landry says he doesn’t want to see us on base until Tuesday.”
“Yeah, all right.”
“You want a ride home?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, I can make it.” He knew he should probably take her up on her offer, but he didn’t think he’d be good company right now.
For a moment, Sam looked like she might argue with him, but instead, she nodded and said, “I’ll be in the locker room if you change your mind.”
As Sam turned to leave, Daniel suddenly blurted, “I killed Morlan.” As soon as the words flew from his mouth, he winced internally at his own candor. Sam had a right to know what happened on the planet, but Daniel was opening up a conversation he didn’t want to have.
Sam twisted her body toward him. She looked predictably stunned and hurt, and for a long while, she just stared at him, a mist forming in her eyes. Finally, she walked over and sat down on the edge of the desk. “What happened?”
Daniel rubbed his eyes. “They got to him Sam. The Ori. It was like he was some distorted version of the Morlan I met two years ago.” Daniel cleared his throat and stood up. “He came at me with a knife. He’d just done in one of Reynolds’s men, and then turned on me, knocked me down, screamed that I was an unbeliever and that I should pay for doubting the Ori. Instinct took over, and I turned the knife on him.”
Sam laid a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “There wasn’t anything you could do,” she said.
On some level, Daniel knew Sam was right. He hadn’t put that knife in Morlan’s hand, and he certainly hadn’t told the young man to embrace Origin. Still, Daniel hurt deep in his gut, as much as he would have if Morlan had stabbed him. “I guess,” he said. “What was he, though? Nineteen?”
“Listen, Daniel,” Sam said. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I just figured you’d want to know.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I just need to get some sleep.”
She leaned forward and patted him on the arm. “Okay. See you.”
***
After Sam left, Daniel let out a breath and started debating his next move. He could drive home and sleep, or he could grab a bunk on base. Sleeping on base would probably be the most prudent decision.
But before he had time to act on either option, Cam appeared in his doorway. “Hey, Jackson.”
Daniel flashed an obligatory smile. “Hey, Mitchell. Heading home?”
“Heading out, actually,” Cam said. “I’m thinking you should come with me. Come on. Couple of drinks. Loud music. Sports on the wide-screen.”
“Sounds like a blast,” Daniel deadpanned. “But no.”
Cam stepped inside the office and pulled the door closed, leaving Daniel with the immediate urge to bolt out of the room. In his experience, a closed office door was never a good thing. Closed office doors were reserved for yelling or lectures or heart-to-hearts about “sensitive issues.” Daniel was certain he was in for the latter.
“Listen,” Cam said, the Southern lilt in his voice more prominent than usual. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about what happened in the Kereben village.”
Daniel let out a breath. “Mitchell, I appreciate you concern—”
Cam held up a finger. “Hold on, let me finish. What happened with Morlan was not your fault. You were defending yourself.”
“You’re right,” Daniel said, grinning a little too broadly. “I feel much better now.” He rose to leave.
“Oh sit down,” Cam said, his voice a little louder than before. “I know you well enough to know that you’re finding some way to blame yourself for this.” Leaning his elbows on Daniel’s desk, he continued. “Listen, I’ve been thinking. What do you think about taking a week off? I could—”
“No way,” Daniel protested. “I’m not taking time off. I—”
Cam raised his voice to talk over Daniel. “Jackson, will you just think about it? You’ve been stressed out for weeks, and—”
“Mitchell,” Daniel snapped. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”
Standing up straight, Cam gazed at Daniel for several moments, and then he said, “I just don’t want you to let things fester. This is me talking as your friend, and your team leader.”
Cam didn’t usually play the team leader card so Daniel was caught off guard. “You’re right,” Daniel relented. “I’m just not really in the mood to talk. I need to process it for a while.”
“Fair enough,” Cam said. “I won’t push. But if you need me, call me.” He gazed at Daniel for a moment, rapped on his desk with his knuckles, and then disappeared into the hall.
***
“I should be home in bed,” Daniel muttered to himself, as he parked his jeep and headed up the walk to Sam’s house. Yet here he was.
After Cam left his office, Daniel had been relieved. He had won the privacy and solitude he thought he wanted. As he climbed into his jeep and started to drive home, though, his grief and pain over Morlan’s death had become tangible, and he realized how alone he really felt.
He wasn’t sure what made him drive to Sam’s house, or what made him stop for pizza, DVDs, and booze. But as he stood outside her door, waiting for her to answer, he couldn’t help but feel like he was in the right place.
After a few moments, Daniel heard shuffling from inside the house and soon, the door opened to reveal a slightly disheveled-looking Sam. She was dressed in pajama bottoms and a white tank top, and Daniel wondered at once if he’d awakened her from a much-needed post-mission sleep.
“Hey,” she said, taking a step backward so Daniel could enter the house. She pointed to the pizza. “Is that BBQ chicken?”
“Yep. Hot out of the oven.” He flashed a guilty smile. “Did I wake you?”
“Nah. I was just alphabetizing my CDs.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t they already alphabetized?”
A bit of red crept into her cheeks, and she smiled. “I had absolutely nothing to do, so I thought I’d order them by genre. Some social life, huh?”
Grinning, Daniel walked briskly through Sam’s house to the kitchen and placed the pizza onto the counter. He turned to see Sam following him into the kitchen, so he held up the bottle of vodka. “Got any orange juice?”
“Yeah, hang on.” Sam wrenched open the fridge and pulled out a carton of juice. She motioned toward the contents of the refrigerator. “I have beer, too.”
“Then we’re all set.”
***
Two and a half hours later, Sam and Daniel slumped lazily on Sam’s couch, watching the credits some cheesy ‘80s comedy. The coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles and an open bag of Cheetos, and Daniel felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. Of course, he suspected the five beers he had may have contributed to his tranquil mood.
“What’s next?” Sam asked, snatching a DVD from the floor. When she read the title, she let out a laugh. "Back to the Future?"
“You’re mocking me?” Daniel said playfully. He laid his newly opened beer bottle against the bear skin of Sam’s neck, and she recoiled, sending the contents of the bottle all over Daniel.
“Whoops,” she said with a crooked grin.
“Well now I smell like a brewery.” He threw a mock-glare at Sam and sat his bottle down. “Can I ask you something?”
Sam nodded, looking a bit more serious now. “Yeah, Daniel. What is it?”
Daniel cleared his throat. “Do you ever feel like we’re fighting a battle we can’t possibly win?”
“Against the Ori?” She cocked her head. “I felt like that sometimes with the Goa’uld and the Replicators, and we kicked both their asses.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Jack said when we first met the Ori,” Daniel said, sounding a bit more deflated than he intended. Had he hoped Sam would validate his fears? He shifted so that he was facing her. “I don’t know. With them, we were fighting a physical enemy. With the Ori, we’re fighting an idea, too. I… I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Sam placed a hand on both of Daniel’s shoulders. “You’re just worn out. We all are.”
“Mitchell wants me to take some time off. I think he’s waiting for me to…snap or something.”
“He’s just concerned. He pesters me, too.”
Daniel laid his head against Sam’s forehead. “I kind of spoiled our night with all my doom talk, didn’t I?” He took a breath and caught a burst of Sam’s shampoo.
“No,” she said, laying her hand against his cheek. “You needed to talk.”
“Yeah.” He suddenly became aware of the fact that Sam was caressing his jaw with her thumb. He closed his eyes and let the tiny sensation sweep over him.
Gradually, they inched a closer to each other, settling into the calmness of shared strength and warmth. And at some point—Daniel wasn’t sure when—his lips found themselves pressed against Sam’s.
For a brief instant, he thought about pulling away, but that feeling of rightness he’d had when he found himself on her doorstep earlier that night rushed over him again.