PART TWO
He wakes abruptly as a sharp sting pierces the back of his hand. His eyes fly open, and he can see Janet looking down at him.
“Easy, Daniel. We’ve got you. I’m just running a little saline into you. You’re dehydrated from your fever.”
Sure. Whatever.
He trusts Janet. Trusts her to do what’s best for him, despite the Linvris and MacKenzie, because Janet has more than made up for it in her ceaseless efforts to keep him and the rest of his team alive. Also, she makes a mean Singapore Sling.
So he trusts Janet. Just as he trusts his team.
He trusts Jack, despite the lies for the Tollan and the failure with the Eurondans, because Jack is human and flawed, but still his closest friend.
He trusts Teal’c, despite the death of Sha’re and the past service to the Goa’uld, because Teal’c is Teal’c, and as loyal as it is possible to be.
He trusts Sam, despite the blind faith in technology and the thrill with explosives, because both are driven by her love of knowledge, and Daniel understands that as well as anyone.
Besides, Sam has brought Janet, and Janet will make him better.
Daniel rolls his head to the other side to find Sam there, leaning over him, concern all over her face. He wants to thank her, but the thought of it alone is enough to exhaust him.
She seems to understand, even without the words. She smiles and whispers, “You’d have done the same for me.”
Of course he would have. He just hopes she doesn’t need it anytime soon, because he doesn't think he's quite up to nursing anyone back to health at the moment.
Janet seems to read his mind. “There’s an ambulance on the way, Daniel. It’ll take us back to base, and we’ll get you fixed up.”
Good. That’s good.
Something catches in his throat and Daniel starts to cough, deeply and painfully. The muscles around his ribs hurt, and he realises he must have been doing a lot of coughing lately, though he doesn’t remember it. Sam and Janet pull at him until he’s sitting upright, leaning on both of them as he desperately gasps for air.
He doesn’t remember being laid back down.
XXXXXXXXXX
He’s in a bed again, although it’s hard and narrow and not his own. It rocks back and forth irregularly and seems to have an engine under it. His headache is bad enough that he doesn’t try to open his eyes.
“What’s his temp at?” an unfamiliar man asks.
“106.3,” Janet answers, and he can hear the strain in her voice. She must be worried. “We need to bring it down.”
He feels a cold pack slide under his neck, and another is laid on his forehead. Several more are placed along his body.
The ambulance races back to the SGC and as his awareness lapses again, Daniel knows he should be frightened. But this has happened to him before...
XXXXXXXXXX
He wakes slowly, overheated and aching all over. He turns his head and groans at the impact the movement has on his headache. Something soft and damp slips off his forehead, falling on the headrest beneath him.
“Dan’yel? Can you hear me?” There’s a gentle caress along his cheek, then the sound of water swishing. A newly-dampened cloth is placed on his forehead, and he realises that it must have been what fell. He sighs at the cool relief it brings and slips back into a restless slumber.
Sometime later, Daniel stirs again. He drags his eyelids open this time, instantly regretting it as the half-light in the tent pierces his skull. His wife looks down at him, trying to look calm, but he can see from her reddened eyes that it’s an effort for her.
He says her name, but no sound comes out. He clears his raw throat and tries again. “Sha’re?”
She smiles at him, looking more like herself. “You know me this time, my Dan’yel?”
“How could I not?”
“You have been very ill. In your fevers, you were not always aware of where you were or who I was.”
Daniel looks down at himself and sees that he has a large damp cloth draped over his chest, another across his groin and thighs. He’s not wearing his robes, or anything else, for that matter. With no anti-pyretics and no refrigeration, Sha’re has been trying to keep his fever down as best she can. He raises a shaky hand to caress her face in gratitude but stops, distracted by what he sees.
His arm is covered in irregular spots, some newly formed, some already scabbing over. He turns his arm and sees that they cover the underside as well. “What is wrong with me?”
Sha’re takes his hand in hers and holds it against her chest. “It is Ra’s Penance.”
He frowns. “Ra’s Penance?”
Sha’re nods. “A punishment inflicted by the god on disobedient children. I was punished with it as a small girl after I broke my parents’ marriage cup. It is not usually so serious, and you are the first adult I have seen to suffer from it.”
“Like chickenpox,” Daniel says in English.
Sha’re cocks her head at him. “What?”
“Chicken, uh, pox. Illness. Curse. Chicken curse. It’s a disease on Earth that normally affects children.”
She looks bemused. “Children on Earth can be cursed by chickens?”
He’s annoyed by his mistake, but doesn’t want to deal with it now. He will later, when his head isn’t about to explode and he can summon the energy to explain how the corruption of an old word can begin to sound like a new one.
She hesitates for a moment, tears forming in her beautiful brown eyes. “Dan’yel, what if Ra is not truly dead? What if he is punishing you for trying to harm him? What if he takes you from me?”
“Ra is dead.” Nuclear weapons are hard to duck.
“How can he be dead if he still casts his Penance down on us? Little Kes’ka is ill with it. She pushed her brother down a dune last week.”
“I remember.” Kes’ka is seven and is one of his favourites. She always begs to hear stories of what life is like on Earth, and how things work, and the multitude of questions she asks show an intelligence that astounds him at times. Her brother tumbled down the dune because Daniel tried to explain gravity to her. She probably passed on the sickness when he comforted her after the caning her mother gave her for her ill-conceived experiment. “It’s just an illness, Sha’re. A disease. I wasn’t here as a child, so I never had it and don’t have the immunity Abydonian adults do.”
Sha’re shakes her head. “It always strikes after a child has been disobedient.”
He smiles softly. “Every child is disobedient. You can’t show me a child who has done nothing wrong in the last week. Kes’ka was already sick; she just didn’t know it yet. She gave me the, uh, the virus, and now it will have to run its course.”
“Virus? What is this? You make no sense, Dan’yel.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to explain better later. I’m too tired to argue right now.”
Her fingers trail across his cheek once more, and she makes an attempt to smile. “Then you truly are gravely ill.”
He sends her a mock glare and is relieved to see her smile widen. It’s quick to fade when his eyes unfocus at the renewed pain in his head.
“Do not leave me, my Dan’yel. Please.”
He doesn’t want to, but the fever pulls him back into darkness far too complete to fight.
XXXXXXXXXX
This time when he wakes, there is the constant beeping of a monitor beside him. And the drone of what sounds like a newscaster’s voice.
“While experts are still working on isolating the exact strain of the virus, they have traced the point of origin in North America to Colorado Springs, Colorado. The spread has been rapid, and epidemiologists expect it to affect most parts of the globe within a week. The confirmed death toll has reached 214 in Colorado alone, and is expected to rise dramatically. In a statement issued this morning, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention advised the public to stay at home and minimize contact with others as much as possible until a solution has been found. Frequent hand-washing with detergents and the wearing of N95 compliant masks may protect you and your family. Mandatory reporting of all cases of flu-like symptoms to your local hospital will be enforced. You will then be advised of quarantine procedures. This is a time for caution, not for panic. Further details will be released as...”
Daniel stirs slightly, and the broadcast is immediately silenced. He opens his eyes to find Teal’c frowning down at him.
“How are you feeling, Daniel Jackson?”
Good question. How does one describe a feeling of complete lethargy combined with a skull-crushing sinus headache and a ton of weight in his chest? “Not great.”
Daniel looks around and finds he’s in one of the isolation rooms at the base. A speaker sits on a table nearby, along with several books that Teal’c has obviously been reading. “How long was I out?”
“You have not been this lucid since you were brought in three days ago.”
Daniel doesn’t miss the ‘this lucid’ part. He wonders idly what he said while he wasn’t lucid, and decides he doesn’t want to know. His thoughts are interrupted by a violent coughing spasm, after which Teal’c tilts the head of his bed higher and brings him some water. He sips it gratefully. “Is it your turn on sentry duty? Where are Jack and Sam?”
Teal’c frowns and Daniel realizes he isn’t going to like the answer. “I am here because my symbiote protects me from the virus. Major Carter is ill, as is Doctor Fraiser. O’Neill was ordered back to base when the situation in the city became severe. He is unable to visit you at this time due to quarantine procedures.”
“When the situation...what’s happening outside?”
Teal’c’s frown deepens, as does Daniel’s concern. “There has been an outbreak of influenza. Colorado Springs is what the radio announcer has called the epicentre. There are thousands of sick and hundreds of dead.” Teal’c’s expression turns from sadness to disgust. “Others who are healthy rampage in the streets, stealing and causing destruction.”
“Looters. And rioters. Bastards.”
Teal’c inclines his head in agreement, and then lets Daniel hang onto his arm as another coughing fit tears through him.
“Do they know the cause?” Daniel asks once he’s able. “Of the influenza, I mean.”
Teal’c shakes his head. “The medical scientists are still attempting to ‘isolate’ it. They only know that the first confirmed fatality was a small girl four days ago. She has been referred to as Patient Zero.”
And suddenly Daniel has a very bad feeling about the whole thing. A feeling of foreboding. And imminent guilt. “Did they say what the girl’s name was?”
Teal’c nods. “She is known as Baby Chelsea.”
The bottom drops out of Daniel’s stomach as he wishes it would out of his congested lungs. The girl in the supermarket. The one he held in his arms less than a week ago.
Oh, God. Hallen’s sneeze. Daniel brought back an alien ‘flu and it's now sweeping through the population. Killing little girls who’d done nothing more than hug him when they’d lost their fathers.
A shudder runs through him, the first that wasn’t induced by fever chills in days. Poor dead Chelsea isn’t Patient Zero. He is.
Why didn’t he tell Janet about the sneeze? Why didn’t she catch that he was carrying something?
And where is Janet, anyway? Daniel mentally backtracks in the conversation. Oh, God.
“Janet’s sick? And Sam, too? When? How long? How are they?” He needs to know. Badly. There isn’t anything he’ll be able to do for them, but he needs to know.
Teal’c watches him carefully and seems to read his need in his eyes. “Doctor Fraiser became ill yesterday. She is in one of the other isolation rooms. Major Carter joined her this morning, though her symptoms do not appear to be as severe.”
“And Jack? What about Jack? And the General?”
“Neither O’Neill nor General Hammond have contracted the disease at this time. It is unlikely that they will in the future due to the quarantine procedures now being practiced on this base.”
Daniel nods distractedly. He’s glad that he hasn’t infected Jack or Hammond, but his mind is still on Chelsea and Janet and Sam. And Chelsea’s father. And the cashier who served him at the supermarket. And the other sickened thousands and dead hundreds and everyone who will follow them. “This is my fault.”
Teal’c frowns again and Daniel can see he is trying to figure out the logic, no doubt hampered by the memory of three days of non-lucid ramblings on Daniel’s part. He gives up eventually and says, “Explain.”
So Daniel does. About being sneezed on by Hallen and being hugged by little Chelsea. About a lot of other things too. His guilt over Janet and Sam. His memories of his bout with Ra’s Penance, when Sha’re kept him on the healthy side of the line between life and death through sheer force of will.
He realizes about halfway in that he may not be done with the non-lucid ramblings, though Teal’c is far too much of a friend to tell him so. Eventually he winds down and collapses back against his bed, exhausted.
He coughs one more time and Teal’c finally calls for a nurse. He probably should have done so to start with, but Daniel is grateful that he didn’t. He doesn’t want to face them once they learn that this is all his fault. Doesn’t want to see their eyes hate him over the masks he’s forced them to wear. Teal’c can be the one to tell them.
The nurse arrives and asks Daniel a couple of questions, but he’s not really paying attention. He hears Teal’c take his leave, promising to return after he’s spoken to General Hammond. Hears the hushed tones as the nurse reminds Teal’c to wash before leaving the infirmary.
It all becomes too much and Daniel voluntarily retreats back into oblivion.
XXXXXXXXXX
“How’s he doing, Teal’c?” Jack asks. His voice sounds tinny to Daniel’s ears.
“There has been no change that I can detect,” Teal’c answers. He sounds normal and close-by. “Has there been word from the Asgard or the Tok’ra?”
Tinny-Jack mutters a curse and a sigh. “Of course there hasn’t. We need their help, therefore they’re nowhere to be found.”
“I do not believe they do so purposefully, O’Neill.”
“That makes one of us.”
Daniel lets out a soft snort of agreement.
“Is he awake?” Tinny-Jack asks, his voice softer somehow, more...reverent. Which is an odd thing for Daniel to think. Jack has never been reverent of anything.
There is a pause and then Teal’c answers, “I do not believe so.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“Look, I’m feeling much better. I’m not trying to leave isolation; I just want to see Daniel,” Sam’s voice is reasonable, persuading, but Daniel can hear the frustration behind it, even as it wakes him up. He turns his head and opens his eyes. Sam is standing in the doorway wearing a set of white scrubs, one hand on a portable IV stand and the other on her hip.
“You should be resting, Major,” Dr. Warner replies. Daniel can’t see his face, but he can see the straps of his mask striping the back of his head. “And even if you are as well as you claim, Dr. Jackson needs to be resting.”
Sam rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to wake him up.”
“Too late.” Daniel is barely able to recognize the rough croak that’s his own voice.
Sam’s eyes widen as she looks over at him, half-smiling an apology.
“You should be sleeping,” Warner admonishes, as if it’s Daniel’s fault they woke him. “Major Carter was just leaving.”
“No, please,” Daniel says. “Let her stay. I promise I won’t let her drag me back to my office, no matter how much she begs.”
Warner stares at him suspiciously for a moment, clearly not getting the joke, but then nods. “For a little while, then. Not too long.” He makes a note of something on his clipboard and leaves.
Sam pulls up a chair beside Daniel’s bed. She takes his hand in one of hers, and places her other on his forehead. “You’re not as warm as you were before.”
Daniel picks up his other hand, the one with the IV attached, and gives it a gentle shake. “Something in my cocktail, I think.”
Sam nods. “Just enough acetaminophen to keep your fever from reaching dangerous levels. They don’t want to eliminate it entirely; it’s helping you fight the virus.”
The virus. Daniel swallows painfully. “How many?”
She pulls her hand away from his head and wraps it around her stomach. Her other thumb traces the back of his hand. “Daniel, don’t.”
“Sam,” he says, willing her to understand why he needs to know. “How many?”
“About 1200 confirmed in Colorado. Others in London, Vancouver, Tokyo. Just about everywhere.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. She squeezes his hand.
“It’s not your fault.”
Daniel lets out a derisive snort, even as he feels a tear slip down his cheek. “How could it not be?”
“You couldn’t have known, just as Janet couldn’t have known. You followed procedure.”
“I should have mentioned my contact with Hallen, and Janet should have caught the infection, if not in her initial examination, then in my blood work. Both of us are to blame, and the procedures are clearly inadequate.”
“That’s exactly what Janet said, and since she helped write them she’s not feeling very good about herself at the moment. You’re both just going to lie around feeling guilty instead of concentrating on getting better, aren’t you?”
Daniel doesn’t deign to answer that. He’s silent for several minutes, until curiosity gets the better of him. “Why am I alive?”
There’s a pause as Sam processes the non sequitur. “What do you mean?”
He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I was the first person infected. Why are 1200 others in this state dead while I’m still alive?”
“Ah,” Sam says, and her fingers squeeze his hand again. “Well, you’re on a new antiviral which is slowing the progress of the virus. You’re also on antibiotics because of the secondary infection you picked up. Pneumonia.” She chuckles humourlessly. “You were never one to do anything half-assed.”
“So, what?” Daniel asks, aware of how bitter he sounds. “You’re saying I’ve survived because I’ve got a better health plan than the others? Because the SGC has access to classified drugs the public doesn’t?”
Sam sighs. “It’s not classified. We just have a well stocked pharmacy. And before you ask, no, the SGC doesn’t have enough to share. There’s enough for you and Janet. Just.”
Daniel nods tightly. His eyes land on the inside of her elbow, and he notices the cotton ball there, taped over her vein. “Why aren’t you iller?” He flushes as he realizes how that must sound. “Not that I’m not glad you aren’t.”
“Iller, Daniel? I thought you were a linguist.” Sam smiles gently, and he’s relieved.
“I’m sick, remember?” His lungs decide it’s a good moment to seize up and cough, just to prove his point.
She waits it out and then answers his question. “I don’t know why I’m not as sick as you and Janet. Probably something to do with Jolinar. The docs are working on it. They thought it was the naquadah in my system, but it didn’t have any affect on the viral cultures.”
It’s Daniel’s turn to squeeze her hand. He’s relieved that at least one person will get through this. But he doesn’t want to be morose, so instead he asks, “What’s Jack doing while we’re in here? I assume they didn’t let him go fishing.”
Sam tilts her head to the side. “In a way, they kinda have.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Daniel’s feeling worse again. He’s started coughing up blood. Warner’s taken a throat swab, and a couple of other samples Daniel doesn’t really want to think about.
He’s also put Daniel on oxygen. As a rule, Daniel hates nasal cannulas, but since his nails and apparently his lips are starting to turn blue, he doesn’t think it’s wise to complain.
He really does wish Janet was treating him rather than Warner, though. A smile would be nice to see once in a while. Maybe even a joke or two. Or at least some form of bedside manner.
He’s just starting to doze again when he’s interrupted by Jack’s voice through the intercom. “Daniel?”
Daniel turns his head towards the observation window. It’s still a mirror. “Can’t see you.”
“Crap, sorry.” Jack flips the light switch and Daniel can make him out through the glass. He looks good. Healthy. “How you feeling?”
Daniel cocks an eyebrow at him. “How do you think?”
“Like a million bucks?”
“Worth of fertilizer.”
“You certainly look it.”
“Thanks, Jack. You’re bored I take it?” Daniel’s not sure how long he’ll be able to stay awake, but he’s thankful for the company.
“I went back to the planet.”
That gets Daniel’s attention. “You what? Are you nuts?”
“We spoke to them by radio first. No one there has been sick. Not even the kid who sneezed on you.”
Daniel frowns. That doesn’t make sense. “Maybe they’ve acquired an immunity and just carry the virus?”
“Maybe,” Jack says. “Their docs gave me some blood and some other fairly disgusting-looking samples, including some from your sniffly little friend. Warner’s got ‘em. He’ll work it out.”
The last sentence almost sounds like a question. Daniel guesses he’s not the only one wishing Janet could be running the show. Still, it’s progress. If Hallen and his people are immune to the virus, then maybe a cure or at least a vaccine can be found for the people of Earth. Daniel closes his eyes. All the people of Earth. How many were there now? Something like six and a half billion? Daniel desperately wants at least partial redemption by having the stargate solve the mess he’s responsible for.
“Daniel?”
“Jack?”
“Just don’t die, okay?’
He’s not sure it’s entirely up to him, but he nods anyway.