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Chapter 4: Season on the Threshold
~*~
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent flooding in, the main.
~ Arthur Hugh Clough
~*~
The Tau’ri were weak and much too easily manipulated. As he had expected, they saw precisely what they desired to see when Teal’c smiled at them and spoke the words that would make them release him.
Doctor MacKenzie was a thousand kinds of fool, even by Tau’ri standards, and Teal’c had decided he would take great pleasure in snapping the man’s neck when he secured the Tau’ri base and thereby this world for his lord Apophis.
To accomplish that divine goal, he had no choice but to smile, and exert all of his effort into making them believe.
O’Neill was hesitant, but his desire to believe proved much stronger. As he welcomed Teal’c back with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, Teal’c uttered reassuring words he did not feel but infused with as much assurance as he was capable of. After long moments, O’Neill finally stepped aside, allowing Teal’c to exit the hated room he had been confined in so long… and to step directly into the view of Master Bra’tac.
Teal’c tried not to panic.
He had never been able to deceive his Jaffa master. He was not able to do so now. Bra’tac told the Tau’ri Teal’c was not himself, but Teal’c knew the shol’va was wrong. He was more himself than he had been in the past five insufferable years, more importantly he was his god’s.
Realizing the Tau’ri believed Master Bra’tac, Teal’c attempted to run. He only managed a few steps when he found his way blocked by Major Carter and Daniel Jackson. The latter regarded him with grave sadness in his eyes. The foolish scholar still believed there was hope to return Teal’c to what he believed him to be. The hasak was sorely misguided.
For a long moment Teal’c stood poised between continuing the deception and fighting his way out of the corridor. Bra’tac had destroyed his chances of talking his way out and despite the zat’nikatel in the major’s hand Teal’c did not believe she would try to stop him.
He was very much mistaken.
~*~
Twice in as many weeks one of them had been placed in the intolerable position of being forced to shoot Teal’c.
As necessary as Daniel knew it had been, he could only find himself shamefully glad it had not been him who had done it. Daniel realized how selfish it sounded, but refused to apologize for feeling the way he did. He was having enough difficulty dealing with the hateful things the Jaffa had been spewing since their return to Earth, not to mention he had a very large problem dealing with the fact Teal’c had tried to kill him.
Jack said Daniel had hit a nerve, probed too deeply into the irrefutable, and by Goa’uld standards inexcusable, fact that Teal’c had killed his goddess Amaunet. As hard as it was for Daniel to say, it was apparently even harder for Teal’c to hear. It was harder still to watch Teal’c continually try to pass his actions off as the “will of Apophis”. Teal’c almost sounded convinced, but in the end they both knew it was a lie - so Daniel called him on it.
That was when Teal’c had gone for his throat.
It had happened so quickly Daniel remembered very little except a flurry of unexpected movement, the stretching of his back across the table to the point he thought it would snap at any moment, a deadening pressure around his throat, the tangential realization that the handcuffs Teal’c wore had way too much slack, just before his vision greyed out…
Daniel knew just how extremely lucky he was that Jack and Feretti had been right outside the door.
According to Bra’tac, the Rite of Mal’sharran would either bring Teal’c back to them - or kill him. Daniel wanted so much to believe Teal’c was not the person who had looked him in the eye that morning and - with just a few spiteful words - had reopened wounds of uncertainty Daniel thought long healed.
He hated feeling like this, hated himself for doubting…
In a word, several words actually and Jack’s words in fact, it ‘sucked the big one’.
Predictably, Jack was trying to keep everything as light as possible and Daniel was trying damn hard to let him, but it was not easy. It didn’t help matters at all that Daniel’s head was still hurting. Headache was the standard after-effect he always experienced following exposure to a ribbon device, although they had rarely lasted this long before. It was something he had taken great pains to hide from Doctor Fraiser - along with the small additional detail that he was having trouble sleeping again. He was reasonably certain the two problems were related, but he also knew Fraiser well enough to be quite sure she would strap him down to an infirmary bed next to Teal’c if she found out…and that was so not a place he wanted to be any time soon.
Surely if he could just make it through the next few hours things would settle down again. If only for a little while…
A hand clutching tightly onto his shoulder interrupted Daniel’s thoughts and caused him to jump in near panic. He looked up to see Jack, only then realizing he had closed his eyes and nearly gone to sleep, almost falling off the stool he was sitting on. It took a moment for his vision to clear, then he could see Jack’s dark, concerned gaze boring into him, noticing in only a few moments the very things Daniel was trying so hard to hide from Janet.
Before he could say anything to redirect Jack’s attention elsewhere, Sam came in. Jack filled her in on their disappointing progress so far - then he came up with the rotation plan. Daniel wanted to protest but he knew the other man was right. The trouble was Daniel knew very well that the moment he tried to lie down he would be wide awake again. There was just too much in his head right now, the new nightmare and the old one both vying for equal attention as soon as he let his guard down.
‘I know I can’t keep it up, I just don’t know how to make it go away...’
Heading out of the door ahead of Jack, Daniel headed for his office and the pot of coffee he had made that morning; if he was very lucky the stuff was probably strong enough to walk on its own by this time…and he needed a concentrated jolt of caffeine in the worst possible way. He was too tired to notice Jack was on his heels until he had gotten inside and started rifling his desk for a relatively clean cup. He had no sooner found one than Jack was taking it away and steering him toward the sofa in the corner.
Daniel tried to protest, tried to tell Jack he couldn’t…
“Sleep, Daniel. I’ll be right here.”
He felt his head being pushed down onto the soft pillow Sam had bought him years ago after waking him with a stiff neck one too many mornings after he’d fallen asleep there. As his eyes closed without his permission and a rough-gentle hand began to slide through his hair, Daniel almost smiled at the bitter irony of the situation. It was so not fair, no one was ever supposed to know that trick worked every time with him, no one still alive did - only Jack. Daniel felt like he should say something, tell Jack he was a grown man who in no way needed a babysitter…
But the words refused to come, and he could not seem to fight the comforting pressure - or the shockingly soothing presence behind it - anymore…
With a small private smile, Daniel realized he didn’t really want to. He was still smiling as sleep finally came.
~*~
Sam sighed in resignation.
Janet was thoroughly and completely pissed off - at the general, at Bra’tac, and probably even at SG1 for not backing her up concerning Teal’c and her desire to replace the symbiote in order to save his life. Sam hated that her best friend was angry, but she trusted Bra’tac. And if the Jaffa master said this was the only way to get Teal’c back, then they really had no other choice. This was what they had to do. The only alternatives were to allow their friend to remain an enemy and keep him locked up - until either Junior matured and they had to stand around and watch him die anyway, or more probably until they were forced to turn him over to Area 51 for ‘study’.
As Sam moistened the washcloth in her hand again and stroked it over Teal’c’s forehead, she remembered the contempt in his eyes after MacKenzie had declared him cured and cut him loose. One thing she and Teal’c had never had any issues over was her gender. The Teal’c she had met in that corridor had plainly seen the female warrior as lower than low, so negligible as to be insignificant - and certainly not any sort of threat. Sam remembered the shock on his face when she had shot him - a shock completely unrelated to the physical effects of the zat charge.
Remembering everything Teal’c had said and done since the first moment he had raised a weapon against them on the ha’tak, Sam found it almost impossible to believe that total stranger was the same man they had gone through so much with over the years, taken such strength and wisdom from, shared so many secrets with….
Sam missed her friend and the simple truth was she wanted him back. Their Teal’c…not this hateful impostor who looked at them all with such contempt and took such pleasure in twisting what he knew of them to hurt them so bitterly.
What he had done to Daniel…
The colonel, Sam, and probably the general, were the only ones who really understood how hard Teal’c and Daniel had worked to get past their personal feelings from the moment they had discovered the intertwining of their mutual fates as they related to Sha’re. Over time and through their own unique personalities, the two of them had not only learned to work together but had become deeply close friends. Neither of them had ever forgotten the history they shared, but never allowed it to come between them or the team. Sam had to believe the Teal’c who Daniel had formed that hard-won friendship with still existed inside the eyes of the stranger in front of her.
She just hoped, when all was said and done, Teal’c came back to them and they could all return to the way things had been before. They had only just gotten it back; it couldn’t be gone again so soon…especially not like this. They had to get it back.
They just had to.
~*~
The humans felt things far too deeply.
Despite this failing, Bra’tac believed Teal’c’s friends would make excellent Jaffa, with a quantity of training of course, though he would never tell them as much. The three, as well as Hammond of Texas, understood the bonds of warriors and of friends well, and Bra’tac was glad to know he did not need to worry for Teal’c when the time came when Bra’tac could no longer carry a primta.
Daniel Jackson believed Bra’tac should go to Kheb again when that occasion arrived. The scholar was very wise for one so young; he understood the higher path an old Jaffa such as Bra’tac would desire to take when his duty to the living was done.
He had feared Teal’c’s friends would desert him; their hurt at his words and actions since they had rescued him from Apophis lived in their eyes. But they never wavered in their desire to return Teal’c to himself.
It was most encouraging.
Waiting had been extremely difficult for all of them, and Bra’tac could see the strain it put upon the humans, but they still looked at Teal’c with hope as Bra’tac called upon him to choose.
Long moments passed as he watched a myriad of emotions pass across Teal’c’s face - the Mal’sharran was at its height. Teal’c was seeing the truth of his life within his mind, he would either live or die within the next few moments. IT was a great risk, but Bra’tac knew death would be preferable to continuing to live a lie.
Bra’tac knew it.
Teal’c knew it.
And Bra’tac believed Teal’c’s friends knew it as well.
The human physician begged to be allowed to save Teal’c regardless, but she could not.
They had come much too far to surrender now…
~*~
The big guy was back.
Jack knew it was going to take some time for his team to recover from everything that had happened, but he had every confidence they would do it in the end.
Eventually.
After the weird Mal-Sharon thing, Teal’c gave them his ‘we are brothers’ line, and begged their forgiveness with his eyes. Daniel had nodded and smiled in all the right places, but it looked more to Jack at that moment like Daniel wished he were adopted.
Over time, after everything that had happened between them, Daniel had swallowed a lot of perfectly natural and human anger to continue being a friend to Teal’c. Jack knew - now - just how his friend had done it, but he also knew how hard getting past this one would be. It was not just Sha’re, nor any of the history between them…it was the inescapable fact that Teal’c had used it against Daniel. The one taboo topic between them and Teal’c had wielded it with surgical precision to get to Daniel in the most hurtful way possible.
It was not so very unlike what Jack had done during the Maybourne mess, and it had taken them a long time to completely get over that. There were only so many times a person could have their foundations cracked or shattered beneath them before they lost interest in ever rebuilding in the same place again. But Jack was determined they would do it this time.
‘Maybe we can do some team bonding…dinner, movies or something. Get the hell out of this place and just be normal for a while.’
At least, try to be as normal as they ever were….
~*~
"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."
~ H. Jackson Brown Jr.
~*~
The guys had been so great about everything…
Orlin…was gone, and even though they had not known each other very well or for very long, Sam could definitely say it unquestionably ranked high as one of the most intense and sensual experiences of her life.
That merging thing….
Wow.
With a pleasant sigh of remembrance, Sam slipped down the hall to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible she raided the refrigerator for a bottle of water. In the living room, Teal’c was doing his trance thing in the armchair; Daniel was asleep, huddled on the too-small couch, and the colonel had wound up sleeping on the floor after falling asleep there in the middle of The Empire Strikes Back.
‘You snooze; you lose. Sir.’
Sam couldn’t help smiling as she remembered the guys all showing up at her door. Pizza, beer, videos, and her team. What more could a girl want?
She could never thank them enough for the support they had given her. With the exception of the initial belief that she was overstressed, they had backed her up all the way, even if Daniel had gone a little overboard with Colonel Simmons.
God, that one had been hilarious, proving what she had already long suspected: Daniel really had been hanging around their own unique colonel for far too long - inside his head and out. Daniel had always possessed his own unique brand of cutting wit; it just seemed to have taken on greater proportions with continued proximity to the colonel’s.
She had told him all the stories Orlin had shared about his ‘people’. Sam wanted to believe it helped Daniel to hear that Orlin was from the same race as Oma Desala. Now he knew with as much surety as was possible that Shifu was in good hands. She thought maybe Daniel had always known it, especially after Shifu’s little visit, but she had quite a few reasons of her own to know that confirmation made a difference.
The knowledge and power those people possessed….
Daniel thought they might be Ancients, and Sam believed he was almost certainly right. From what they had seen of the technology, and knowing the Ancients had mysteriously disappeared, it made sense that they had ascended beyond the need for the devices they had left behind. They had seen both Oma and Shifu operate the gate with only a thought, which implied a connection Sam was a little uncomfortable thinking too deeply about. The Nox could do it too, and their level of psionic control was incredible enough to believe. Sam wondered if perhaps in a few more generations of evolution the Nox might become what Oma and Orlin were. The thought made her more than a little sad…the Nox were so special just as they were.
Sam sighed again, this time in contentment, as she sat down at her kitchen counter and simply enjoyed the stillness of her home, the silence punctuated only by the intermittent street noises and the familiar sounds her friends made as they slept.
She missed Orlin, as strange as that sounded after only a few days…his gentle voice, and the small -and not so small - gestures of affection, his intensity and wonder. One thing she could say about the Ancients, they sure knew how to treat a lady. Having Orlin in her life for those few days had made her feel - needed, and not so alone. Poor Daniel, if what she was feeling was even close to what he had felt every day for all these years of missing Sha’re then Sam could not begin to imagine how he had managed to stay sane.
Or maybe she could….
There was them.
The team.
When all else failed, they had each other…and now more than ever that counted for a hell of a lot.
~*~
He burned…
Wave after wave of intense fear and wrenching nausea washed over him as the unforgiving reality of his fate sank in, and he knew with an utter certainty he was going to die…
He felt as if his soul was imploding under the weight of it all, tracking along his nerves and threatening to burst itself out of his rotting skin, breaking free of the chains of flesh it had been encumbered by too long.
And he was alone.
So completely alone.
No hope, no friends, no reason to stay - and still yet he held on.
Oma came, offering freedom of a sort, but in truth Daniel knew it was just another form of imprisonment. He wasn’t sure how he knew but he did. If he went with her he would be exchanging one kind of stricture for another, he wouldn’t be any freer to help than he was now. Just freer to be frustrated because he had the power to help and could not...
And still he would be alone…
It almost felt like the battle against the darkness that was Klorel, more and more bits of him scattered to the winds, pulled from every side with nothing left to ground him. No Jack to pull him away from the edge and soon, all too soon, he would fall…
“Oh, God…”
Daniel barely registered that he’d come awake shouting. He was on his feet and heading for the bathroom before he was fully awake, or even remembered he was not in his own home.
‘Sam’s house, wrong direction…’
He narrowly missed falling over Jack as he stumbled down the hall, barely managing to make it to the toilet before throwing up the pizza and beer from what started out as such a wonderful evening. Once the first wave passed, Daniel sat back against the bathtub, gulping in deep shuddering breaths in what he knew was a futile attempt to settle his stomach and his nerves. Thankfully, Sam’s bathroom was small enough he only had to reach out to push the door closed and tap the lock, securing his privacy…if he was really lucky, no one had heard him.
It had been a couple of weeks since Daniel had been bothered so strongly by the dream, largely thanks to Jack’s presence and support. Weeks of getting over the thing with Teal’c, ‘bonding’ in Jack’s own inimitable and slightly tacky way. Stressful weeks certainly, but not so much so that the dreams had started again. Daniel thought they were doing better; Teal’c was so apologetic it was painful sometimes, and Daniel was quite sure if Teal’c begged forgiveness for what he’d said and done under the influence one more time he was liable to hit the Jaffa, mountain of a man or not.
A light tap at the door disturbed Daniel’s concentration on keeping what was left of his stomach where it belonged… and he was launching himself at the toilet again even as he heard Sam’s voice calling his name.
“Daniel?”
“Daniel, you okay in there?”
Sam got louder, but Daniel was still preoccupied with his one on one porcelain communion so she was just going to have to wait or…
“Daniel!”
‘Oh, shit, she woke up Jack. Or did I…?’
This was just great.
Like it wasn’t bad enough he was feeling pretty damn stupid for hanging out in Sam’s bathroom in the middle of the night doing his best to dislodge his spleen over a bad dream…
One hard knock on the door, then there was a louder cracking sound and Jack was inside the room, leaning over him with that pained-concerned expression Daniel was getting far too used to seeing on his face. Jack swiped back Daniel’s sweaty hair with one hand as he grabbed a washcloth from the rack on the wall with the other.
‘- not the company linen, Jack -‘
Wetting the cloth in the sink, Jack brought it around to Daniel’s face at nearly the same time he finished up the latest round of what was now painful dry heaving. Too wiped out to argue, Daniel just sat back and let Jack do what came naturally. The damp cloth eased the lingering nausea somewhat but now he was cold.
Jack was talking to him, asking if Daniel was sick.
‘Duh, Jack…I’d think the smell in here would be your first clue.’
Daniel shook his head in denial of the obvious evidence.
‘No, I’m not sick...this isn’t the first time this has happened. Just the first time anyone’s been around to see it.’
Oh God, the dream was so real…
Daniel realized he was shivering, and knew it was not entirely due to the cold bathroom tiles. He tried to shake his head again, to tell Jack he was not exactly sick sick, he was just…sick.
The washcloth moved away from his face and Daniel could see Jack was giving him the ‘look’. The one that told the recipient in no uncertain terms not only was their veracity being called into question, it was being dissected on the cellular level.
‘Well, he knows now….’
“Ready to get out of here?” Jack’s voice was soft, infinitely gentle.
Not entirely sure that he was, Daniel nodded anyway and let Jack help him up, but instead of going back to the couch, he realized he was being led to Sam’s bedroom.
No, no…
He started to rebel, but then Sam was beside him. “Daniel, you’re sick…you need to lie down in a proper bed…”
She had just been through so much herself, Daniel hated doing this to her now. Before he could protest again, he was not so gently shoved onto the bed, the abrupt movement causing him to curl around his overstressed and sore stomach. Blankets were piled on top of him and he felt Sam’s cool hand stroking through his hair.
This was so different from the dream… he was surrounded by the people he cared about most, who cared about him.
Not alone.
“Go to sleep, sweetie…” A light touch across his clammy cheek and she was gone.
As Sam said goodnight and the light went out, Daniel felt a weight settle beside him.
Jack.
“Get some rest, Daniel. I’m not going anywhere…”
Yeah…
Jack knew.
~*~
Teal’c watched quietly from the hallway as Major Carter and O’Neill led Daniel Jackson to her bedroom. Teal’c lingered outside the door in concern, unsure how to help or even if he should attempt to.
Eventually Major Carter came out and they returned to the living room together. They spoke briefly of their separate concerns, then the major bid him goodnight and made herself comfortable on the sofa. Teal’c returned to his former place in the armchair, his thoughts in great turmoil.
Daniel Jackson was most unwell.
Teal’c had heard their friend dreaming earlier, had observed the panic in his eyes when he first awoke.
Within days of their return from General Hammond’s cabin, Cassandra had reluctantly spoken to Doctor Fraiser, Major Carter and himself of the dream Daniel Jackson had experienced. Further probing had elicited confirmation of the story from O’Neill, who had reluctantly confirmed that Daniel Jackson had suffered the dream quite often since that time.
Judging from the sounds Teal’c had overheard moments before; this dream was very similar.
Very early in their service together, Daniel Jackson had often suffered vivid dreams of his loss. Teal’c had heard the younger man’s mournful voice many nights as he lay dreaming, reliving the day his beloved Sha’re had been lost. It was unsurprising given Daniel Jackson’s history and his tendency not to speak of what he felt. Teal’c had come to understand that human emotion would inevitably find an outlet, be it conscious or subconscious.
Many Jaffa believed in prophetic dreams and Teal’c feared this might be such a dream. If it was, he knew they had to take all precautions to assure this particular nightmare in no way became reality. Teal’c would speak with O’Neill at the first opportunity.
While Daniel Jackson expressed forgiveness concerning Teal’c’s behavior under the influence of Apophis and the sarcophagus, Teal’c had not yet begun to forgive himself. He had greatly wronged his friend; the fact it had been unintentional in no way excused his actions, regardless of what Daniel Jackson said.
One thing was more certain than any other; he would not fail his friend again.
~*~
Jack watched helplessly as Daniel curled up on his side, moaning a little as his body curled around his sore stomach and squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the nausea. He was beginning to get the uncomfortable feeling their little adventure with the Nox was a whole lot further from being over than any of them believed.
There was no way this was a normal dream.
Even a few months before Jack might have dismissed it, might have passed it off as too much stress or maybe just something Daniel had eaten - the man’s dietary habits were a nightmare all their own.
Now? Now he was worried.
Something about this whole thing was so not right.
They needed to talk to Lya or Antaeus, needed to find out if what Jack suspected about the dream was possible. Or if it was possibly some after-effect of what had happened to them there.
They had a mission to P7S441 in two days, but Jack was determined that while Daniel was occupied with Fraiser, he would talk Hammond into giving them permission to contact the Nox by way of the Tollan device Narim had given Carter…the only means of communication they had even now. Especially after Klorel, the Nox world remained forbidden territory unless one had prior permission.
Daniel could not keep going the way he was, and neither could the team. If this was some sort of ‘psychic dream’, if Daniel really was seeing his own death so clearly it was making him physically ill and causing him to dodge sleep like week old leftovers, then SG1’s effectiveness would inevitably be compromised.
‘Hell it already is….’
He and Daniel had - mostly - gotten over the mind-meld stuff - it was largely just bits and pieces of feelings now. But Jack had a feeling something else had moved in to take its place. Something was a lot like that other something they had once known and done easily without even thinking about it, but different too…stronger. It was actually even better now because they had lost it and, against incredible odds, had gotten it back. Whatever it was, whatever all this was, it was pinging every well-honed personal and professional radar Jack had, telling him trouble was coming and they were very quickly running out of time.
They had to figure this thing out…and soon.
Daniel’s dream could not come true. From what Daniel had told Jack about it after the first time, and sporadically since on those occasions he had been dodging sleep to avoid it, the dream was more than a little horrifying - and far too real to be just a standard ‘Daniel in repression mode’ dream.
Fraiser would be their first stop the next morning. Jack had no intention of making Daniel talk to her about the dream, though he hoped Daniel would, but she did need to know he was puking his guts up on what Jack was willing to bet was a fairly regular basis.
Jack figured the hurling could be attributed to an ulcer; he had plenty of reason to know the symptoms fit. The kind of stress they lived under during so-called normal times was enough to have them all regularly living on antacids. Add in Daniel’s normal coffee intake, which was higher than ever these days, and something was bound to give.
Jack had a really bad feeling about it all…
If Daniel’s dream was something that could happen, they needed way more details than they had in order to be able to watch out for the place or time or situation - and to keep it from happening.
No ifs, ands, or buts…they had to.
If Jack knew nothing else, he knew without a doubt that Daniel’s journey, and thus the team’s journey, was a long way from being over. The two were inseparable, just like SG1. Nothing was going to blow it for them now.
Jack rubbed a gentle hand over Daniel’s tense shoulder.
“No way in hell, Danny…no way in hell…”
Chapter 6: Season of Passing
~*~
"In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer."
~ Albert Camus
~*~
‘Who is this idiot?’
Sam and Teal’c had both told Janet about their ‘interviews’ with Colonel Simmons. The guy definitely seemed to be out for blood and it looked to Janet like SG1 was the specified target of the day.
Daniel refused to say anything but the look on his face when Simmons had finally let him out of the briefing room was more than enough to tell Janet their talk had been far from pleasant and she would be well-advised to back the hell off. She had taken that advice.
It was bad enough Colonel O’Neill was missing and presumed compromised - meaning no rescue mission until they figured out the Tyler question - but the rest of SG1 had to deal with a creepy NID spook undermining their loyalty to Earth and to the Stargate Program, as well as their commitment to each other. Daniel was not in the best frame of mind - or the best of health - to be dealing with overpaid, over-paranoid government idiots. He was even less so with his friend and team leader missing - and the inability of any of them to do a damn thing about it.
When the colonel brought Daniel in to see her after their get together at Sam’s place, Janet had almost been ready to ground him: the weight loss, the obvious sleep deficit. Although Daniel had denied stress headaches, Janet knew better. The vomiting had indeed been at least partially the result of an ulcer, just like the colonel had suspected, and it had immediately raised a red flag with Janet.
Headaches and insomnia were Daniel’s usual stress reactions - she always expected to find those - but in the nearly five years she had been his primary physician, five years of stresses like no one should ever have to know, Daniel had never gotten himself into a physical state like this.
There was far more going on than they were letting her in on, she was sure of it, and Janet intended to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime she had put Daniel on Zantac for the ulcer, and a mild tranquilizer she hoped he was actually taking, though Janet had her doubts knowing his feelings about drugs designed to override personal controls. She knew better than to offer him something for the headache, but had given him the usual admonition about taking too many over the counter pain relievers, plus a brand new speech on the care and feeding of ulcers.
The colonel had hinted at an idea to help, an idea he had intended to implement after the team’s current mission. In addition to worrying about him being lost, for Daniel’s sake they could only hope the colonel managed to keep himself alive - if anyone could do it Colonel O’Neill could - and got himself back to take care of it. Whatever it was.
Janet really didn’t want to think about what could happen if the colonel failed to return…
As an orderly brought in the newest lab reports, Janet strengthened her resolve to make sure that never happened.
There had to be something she could do to help…
~*~
Simmons was finally gone and Doctor Fraiser had convinced General Hammond that SG1 was not suffering some sort of mass hallucination. The team was gone now to bring back Colonel O’Neill and, if at all possible, whoever or whatever the mysterious Mister Tyler was.
The NID was getting way too big for their underhanded britches, and George was getting mighty tired of cleaning up after their messes. Once SG1 returned safely, George intended to take a trip to D.C. and drop in on the Oval Office. The name on the door might have changed since the Stargate program had first been conceived, but George was hoping the nature of the support for the program had not. There was no way he would stand by and tolerate the NID dictating the policies and personnel of his program…or the undermining of either of them.
George just hoped all of SG1 returned safely.
Daniel needed to see the Nox, almost as much as he needed not to be carrying a P90 through the gate on a search and rescue mission. George knew the scientist was well trained and more than capable, knew he would back up his team all the way, but he did not have to like that it was part of Daniel and his job now. They were all a lot less naïve than they had been five years ago, but of all them Daniel had changed, or been changed, the most.
George wished like hell things could be different….but at this late date he was not about to tell that young man he could not support his team as he wanted and needed to do. George had neither the courage nor the cruelty to even consider it.
~*~
Jack had rarely been so glad to see anyone in his life as he had been when SG1 appeared out of nowhere just as the Jaffa were closing in for what would inevitably have been the very last time.
Tyler, or whatever his unpronounceable name was, had almost gotten them all killed: Jack on the planet, and the team back on Earth at the mercy of some trumped up NID charges.
Simmons sounded like a real number, worse than Harry Maybourne even - at least there were times you could depend on Harry to do the right thing even if it was usually for all the wrong reasons. From what Carter had described, Simmons was nothing but a plainclothes spook, and Jack had learned the hard way how dangerous that kind could be.
Once they rescued Tyler from his foolish attempt at self-sacrifice, Jack had almost wanted to hit the man - Reol - whatever he was - for shooting Daniel with the zat. Knowing why Tyler had done it did not begin to erase the memory of coming over that hilltop and seeing Daniel just lying there alone on the ground…with no way of knowing if he was dead or alive until they had run full out to get to his side.
They had to see the Nox…and soon.
They needed to know exactly what they were dealing with and how to guard against it.
As they saw Tyler off, Jack asked the Reol to go fishing. An ally that could change his appearance at the drop of the clichéd hat could be a very good thing. Besides, Jack liked him - the floaty dreadlocks were a bit of a distraction, but what the hell…
Once Tyler was gone, Jack noticed Daniel was looking more than a little shaky and he was sure the unsteadiness could not be attributed solely to the zat charge Daniel had suffered. Jack made a mental note to pursue details at the earliest opportunity - and if they weren’t immediately forthcoming there were always surveillance tapes.
Part of Jack, the part he had tried long and hard to bury, knew very well the kinds of things Simmons could, would and probably had used on Daniel to make him doubt himself and his place with SG1. Not that Jack necessarily believed Daniel would buy into a load of spook crap, and he did know Daniel well enough to know the archaeologist would have no trouble at all spitting in the NID bastard’s face. The problem was Daniel tended to let the garbage fester beneath the surface. It had been a significant part of what had come between them before. Talking things out a little would hardly hurt, besides it had been a long time since Daniel had dropped over to Jack’s house for a little stargazing a la JackDaniel’s. Ulcer or no ulcer, it wouldn’t take much to get Daniel to loosen up, not now.
As Carter dialed up, Jack gave Daniel a look he knew the other man understood well. Daniel just shrugged then nodded, telling Jack without saying a word that he was okay, that they would talk about it later, and that he was glad Jack was alive.
Hell, Jack was glad too.
~*~
Sam wished something would happen.
Daniel was worried about the colonel, the colonel was worried about Daniel, and she was worried about both of them and Teal’c. Teal’c was worried about all of them as well and still feeling guilty about the brainwashing thing. If all this had happened last year, she had no doubt it would have been the beginning of the end for SG1.
‘Thank goodness this isn’t last year.’
Speaking of years, Cassie’s party had gone really well. A goodly section of the medical staff, a healthy representation from SGC, and SG1 had all been in attendance, showering the birthday girl with gifts and hugs she almost, but not quite, managed to hide her pleasure in receiving. Sixteen was traditionally a difficult age for most kids; for Cassie it was a milestone denoting incredible changes in her life over the past five years. Going from the backward, agrarian society of Hanka to Earth’s fast paced existence had been a hard adjustment at first, but Cassie had come through it all with flying colors and blossomed into an amazing and insightful young woman.
Sam had noted the tender attention her ‘niece’ showered on Daniel, who looked much too thin these days, and far too haunted. Most kids - young women rather - would never have noticed, much less reacted in the way Cassie had on their birthdays, the one grand excuse kids of every age had to indulge themselves without mercy. But Cassie had bonded very early on with Daniel, their two lost souls coming together in a remarkably positive connection.
Daniel always denied he was good with kids, but he was, and Sam believed it was largely because Daniel never treated kids as ‘kids’ but as small people capable of the wisdom of the ages he himself often seemed to possess. Remembering Cassie’s life with them, and all the good and bad experiences they had shared, Sam was pretty sure he was right.
The colonel had called it a night around ten, ostensibly to get an early start on reports the next morning, but Sam caught the many concerned and solicitous looks her commander had thrown in Daniel’s direction throughout the celebration. She had no doubt Daniel was in for an evening of the O’Neill special ‘Bedtime for Archaeologists’ routine. She would almost have felt sorry for Daniel if it were not so clear he needed it. Daniel had been so tired and distracted, Sam didn’t think he realized what the colonel was up to until they were saying goodnight at the door.
She just wished the Nox would get in touch with them; it had been well over a week since the general had given the go ahead to make contact, now it was simply a matter of waiting….
The guests were all gone now, and as she helped Janet clear away some of the dishes Sam wondered if Cassie would manage to work up the courage to invite her friend Dominic inside. The brief glimpse Sam managed when Cassie answered the door had shown her a handsome young man, much hotter in fact than she remembered boys being when she was that age. From the stories Cassie shared over their bi-weekly chess games, the young hottie in question had a lot more to offer than just looks.
Sam approved, at least so far.
Placing the last of the plates in the dishwasher, Sam jumped as the lights flickered all over the house and a young, very scared male voice called out for Janet…
~*~
The call had come within an hour of Daniel finally getting to sleep. Jack had hoped, however briefly, the phone would fail to wake him, hoped even more briefly some new crisis had not arisen….
He really was getting too old to hope.
Daniel had come stumbling out of his bedroom before the second ring faded, joining Jack on the sofa as he answered the phone.
What neither of them had expected to hear was that one of their worst fears had come to pass, Cassie was ill. The little, or not so little anymore, girl was as close to each of them as a child of their own - that something bad could happen to her was simply unimaginable.
Considering how often similar scenarios had played out in his and in Daniel's life, Jack knew there was no way the other man was just going to sit at home, much less get any more sleep. Waiting at home was not Daniel's style any more than it was Jack's.
‘No, we can all wait right here on these hard plastic seats, not knowing what’s causing it and not knowing if Cass is going to make it…’
Barely holding back his anger at himself for not being able to make things better for their girl, Jack sneaked a glance at Daniel whose hollow-eyed and tense gaze burned a hole into the closed infirmary door. Worry marked every line of the other man’s body, the fear for the child they had all come to love as part of their family taking precedence over any personal considerations. For himself, Jack was divided in his concern. How many more times would Daniel be forced to shove his own needs to the side before it became one time too many? How much more could the man take before his body or his spirit just gave up and stopped trying?
The Nox were far too silent. After all they had been through, Jack had no idea why they would ignore a plea for help from SG1. They couldn’t go to the Nox. But the Nox sure as hell weren’t coming to them. The silence naturally led to troubling speculations. What if Klorel had returned? What if some other more natural crisis had the Nox occupied?
What if, what if, what if…
In the meantime Cassie needed them, and Jack had a really bad feeling that they sat on the cusp of yet another mission, that somehow whatever was affecting Cassie would lead them all into unknown and unprepared for danger. Yet another situation that could be 'the one'. Acceptable risk was part and parcel of what they did on a daily basis, but they still had no clue what to be careful of, how to guard against the dream…
As the doors in front of them opened, Janet’s face told Jack all he needed to know. It was bad, and it was going to get worse before it was over.
Fuck.
~*~
On her tenth round of pacing her office, Janet realized she could no longer stop. Almost ten years in the service and she had never, ever been in a place where she had lost control so badly. She would have killed Nirrti - and she still had to wonder if Hammond would have let her. Cassie had almost died and Janet had been willing to do anything to stop it.
…………
“Doctor Fraiser, stand down.” For the first time in her life, and there had been many occasions when she had come close, Janet disobeyed a direct order. The gun she held pointed at Nirrti had never wavered.
“I can't do that, Sir. I don't have a choice…”
”Janet? Don't do this.” Sam never begged, but she had then.
”I can't help Cassandra ...she can.”
There was nothing any of them could have said at that moment to change her mind. Nothing except…
”Doctor Fraiser, SG-1 has already convinced me to make a deal for Cassandra's life ... this isn't necessary.”
……….
Motherhood was a bitch, or made a person one... Janet was unsure which was truer at this point, but the maternal instinct had taken her over in a way so powerful and profound, Janet was still shaken by its intensity.
She had almost lost her daughter…
Of all the things Janet had seen in her service with the SGC, this situation had affected her more deeply than anything she had ever experienced or imagined in her life.
Cassie was sleeping now with Sam by her side, thankfully improving more with each passing moment. With an effort, Janet redirected herself to the door, peeking out to be sure all was as it should be with her daughter. Sam was reading by the bedside, pausing occasionally to stare at Cassie. Too close, it had just been too damn close.
Janet needed a drink…
Stopping at her desk, Janet reached into the back of the bottom drawer and pulled out the ‘for medicinal purposes only’ bottle of Glen Moray single malt - Daniel had given it her the Christmas before. Pouring a stiff shot into her coffee mug, Janet settled back in her chair and made an effort to relax, willing the drink to soothe her shattered nerves.
What a day….
As she let the events of the past twenty-four hours play themselves out over and over again in her head, Janet let her emotions flow away from her on the waves of artificial comfort the whiskey provided. General Hammond had not sent for her yet, so likely any reprimand would be a written one. And damn it all, Cassie was alive and getting better by the minute so disciplinary actions be damned, she would take that and so much more if it meant her baby would live. It was worth it, more than worth it.
Unsurprisingly, her friends on SG1 had backed her up every step of the way. They really were the best friends she and Cassie had. Anywhere, anything, anytime...it was more than just words with them.
She wondered if being part of a team was anything like what she was feeling right now. Family, but not by blood. Bonded on levels no logic could touch. It was frightening really…. She was entirely too aware of what she had been willing to do….
And she had seen each and every one of SG1 go to the mark and beyond time and time again for each other…for her and for Cassie. Janet bowed her head and accepted the blessing of the honor she knew she had been given when they had adopted her as well as Cassie into their circle.
Tomorrow would perhaps bring a new perspective on what had happened with Nirrti, for now Janet was content to know her family was safe.
She took another drink.
Chapter 7: Season of Burdens
~*~
Since what unnumbered year
Hast thou kept watch and ward
And o’er the buried Land of Fear
So grimly held thy guard?
~ Henry Howard Brownell, The Sphinx
~*~
Damn, damn, damn…
If not one thing, it was another.
Not only had they lost Chaka to a bunch of poaching slavers and gotten captured by self same poachers with sadistic streaks a mile wide, but Jack was now forced to sit there in the smelly straw of his cell and listen to Daniel thrash his way through a nightmare - that nightmare - with no way of getting close enough to him to help. Chaka and his buddy occupied the two cells between him and Daniel, and the Unas looked every bit as perplexed and concerned as Jack was sure he looked himself.
At least it was night; old Barshock, Burrock, whatever his name was, would leave them alone until morning so there would be no more painsticking. Jack hated to think what their jailer would make of Daniel’s nightmare, the kind of cruelty the man would twist it into, making Daniel suffer all the more.
Where the hell were Carter and Teal’c?
For what seemed like the thousandth time, Jack called out Daniel’s name, trying to keep his voice down. He almost wished Chaka was in the cell next to Daniel; at least it -- he cared. From the look of him, the big Unas would cheerfully tear down the bars to help Daniel if he could. For all Jack thought the things were big, smelly lapdogs, he’d seen the Unas react to the pain of its friends…including Daniel...in a way that was comfortably familiar. Despite what he had said to Daniel earlier, somewhere deep down Jack knew the Unas was a whole lot more than just a fairly intelligent animal. Chaka was Daniel’s friend and he wanted to help…but he was as powerless as Jack to do a damn thing about it...and he was not taking the current unacceptable state of affairs any better than Jack was.
Right now Chaka was focused on the smaller housebroken Unas in the cage between him and Daniel. Amidst a bunch of Unas-speak, the quiet one watched Chaka closely, its eyes tracking from Jack to Chaka to Daniel and back again. Slowly it edged over to the bars, reaching out a hesitant, shaking hand toward Daniel's shoulder. Jack had to swallow hard at the sight of the big creature reaching out to Daniel - who lay helplessly immersed in his dream.
Their experience with the Unas to date had not included a wake up service with a toothy smile. Other similarly clawed hands they had encountered in the past had been far more inclined to hit than to nudge gently, but as Jack watched that was exactly what the smaller Unas did now.
Light, tentative nudging at Daniel’s shoulder, at first producing no results, then as the creature tapped a little harder Daniel woke with a shout.
“Jack! Ohgod….”
Lacking the capability to touch, Jack could only speak…. shooting over urgent calming words he might have been embarrassed to utter in front of another human. There was a certain freedom in knowing no one - or no thing - around you could understand a word you said. The little Unas touched Daniel’s shoulder again uncertainly, awkwardly patting at him urged on by Chaka’s low crooning voice. Between their combined efforts, Daniel gradually seemed to be coming back from wherever the dream had taken him.
Jack could see his friend’s slightly wild gaze take in the barn, the straw, the iron bars and shackles. He saw the memory of the past day settle over Daniel, saw the dream slowly recede and allow the nightmare of their present reality back in with a shudder.
Swiping a shaking hand over his face, Daniel sat up and laid his head on his knees.
“Bad?”
“Looked like…” was all Jack said out loud. Daniel always felt badly enough after the dreams were over; there was no sense in making things any worse for him.
Chaka was still crooning, albeit more softly, and Daniel turned his head to utter a few words of Unas to reassure him. Probably the usual ‘I’m fine’…which in English would be Daniel-speak for ‘I’m anything but’. The big creature looked about as doubtful as Jack usually was.
Rubbing at his head, Daniel looked over at them both and offered a brief, unsteady smile that wouldn’t have reassured a blind man - forget about a softhearted Unas…or colonel.
“Headache?”
Even as he started to shake his head in denial, Daniel admitted, “Yeah…and nausea,” giving up any pretense that all was well. Janet’s meds, even their usual first-aid supplies, Tylenol, and Band-Aids were all in their vests… which Burrock had taken away along with their weapons.
As Daniel concentrated on his breathing, visibly battling his own body to get the pain and the urge to hurl under control, Jack grimaced in sympathy. What he really wanted was to be over there where Daniel was. Twenty feet, three sets of iron bars, and it might as well have been on the other side of the galaxy for all the good he could do Daniel. Sitting on his hands when anyone was hurting was so not Jack's style; sitting on his hands when Daniel was hurting was damn near impossible.
They had to get out of there and soon…
Not only did Jack have a bad feeling about Burrock, he had an even worse feeling about what could happen to Daniel if things got any more intense on the slaver’s kill ‘em now and sort ‘em out later agenda.
When Burrock had gotten overzealous with his painstick and the P90 he had stolen from Jack earlier, Daniel had been beside himself. Even flat on his back trying to shake off the effects of the painstick charge, Jack had heard the outraged protests, the shouts of utter anguish as Daniel suffered with his friends, human and Unas alike. He heard Daniel go silent when it was his turn then get back up again to antagonize the man with the weapons after Burrock shot the big noisy Unas across the barn.
The slave master was the worst kind of bully - one with no natural empathy at all and a thirst for power that took precedence over anything or anyone else.
God, they had to get out before he came back…
~*~
Teal’c reached out a hand to steady Daniel Jackson as he stumbled once more. O’Neill had spoken only briefly of the torture the two of them had suffered at the hands of the Unas trader, but Teal’c feared there was much more to be concerned about.
The two Unas had parted from them, carrying their meager weapons and dreams of freedom into an uncertain future, as well as Daniel Jackson’s hope that killing was unnecessary. Teal’c knew the young scholar wanted to believe it was possible, even as he knew Daniel Jackson was realistic enough to understand freedom for the Unas would only come at a price.
“You okay, Daniel?”
O’Neill cast yet another concerned glance in Daniel Jackson’s direction.
Daniel Jackson nodded an affirmative, but they remained concerned.
Over the preceding three months since their return from the Nox world, things had not returned to ‘normal’ as they had so optimistically expected. While their bonds had grown stronger, their continued fear for Daniel Jackson’s life placed them all in jeopardy.
Teal’c knew O’Neill had only briefly considered removing Daniel Jackson from offworld duty, had considered leaving him behind for his own safety…to an extent they had all agreed it would be more prudent in many ways, but the notion had warred strongly with their instinct to keep him close under their protection, and that instinct had proven the stronger one in the end.
Teal’c had provided the diversion that facilitated the rescue so this was his first real opportunity to study Daniel Jackson closely and he was greatly discouraged by what he saw. The younger man was far too pale and seemingly more gaunt than he had been just the day before. Heavy creases between Daniel Jackson’s eyebrows bespoke headache and disturbing thoughts, dark smudges of too little rest, troubled eyes of too many stresses.
To Teal’c it seemed it required far too much of Daniel Jackson’s attention to simply remain upright; their friend was not well and he could not persist in his current state. They had been covering for Daniel Jackson with Doctor Fraiser and the general, though Teal’c did not honestly believe that the two were greatly deceived. He had no idea why they chose not to intercede. Perhaps it was for the same reasons that SG1 chose to keep Daniel Jackson close. There was no other way for SG1 to function…and function they must.
If the Nox were not available to help, surely there was someone who could….
Briefly, Teal’c considered the being called Oma Desala. He had felt the depths of her caring toward Daniel Jackson on Kheb, had sensed her solemn acknowledgment of him as a kindred soul. Yet Teal’c also knew Daniel Jackson’s nightmare involved her, that somehow she would play a part in his possible demise - it was reason enough not to go near her.
One simple fact remained: they had to do something, and soon.
~*~
Daniel looked like hell. Not that he had been looking too great for weeks now, but this was just so….
As Siler cut the shackle from Daniel’s ankle, Sam glanced over at her CO where he waited his turn on the next gurney. She knew the colonel saw it all too - the thinness, the nervous twitches, the strained effort to maintain the outward façade that everything was 'just fine’. But nothing was fine - Daniel was so far from being fine it was terrifying, and the only reason Sam could see for maintaining the pretense was because Daniel so badly needed for them to do so. He needed to control what little he could of his life right now - and because he needed it, they let him.
Janet hovered behind Daniel, clearly impatient to get him lying down on the gurney in order to get her many tests underway. If there was a medical solution to be found, Janet would do her damnedest to find it, but Sam knew how hard she had been trying all along…to no avail.
As Siler finished his sawing, the shackle fell to the floor with a clatter that broke their silent tableau. Sam saw Daniel jump, his attention drawn from his distracted reverie, and go even paler than he had been. To see Daniel, who generally faced the usual brand of threats - system lords, replicators, giant aliens - with consistent composure, so visibly on the edge of his nerves was shocking to her.
Where the hell were the Nox and why weren’t they answering the many messages SG1 had sent?
Sam watched Janet push Daniel onto his back with her best ‘I’m pretending I didn’t see that’ frown as Siler moved away to begin work on the colonel’s shackle. Even as Janet began applying the tools of her trade, Daniel’s eyes slid closed as he finally gave in to the exhaustion he had resisted so long. Glancing over to the colonel, Sam registered the expression of pure concern on his face, the intent focus that was so familiar. If she closed her eyes, Sam could almost see them all back in that small cave on the Nox world…
As she moved back to stand watch at the cave entrance, Sam had to shake her head at the concept of the two men joined in some sort of psychic bond. A few hours earlier she’d have been tempted to dismiss it outright, but Daniel’s reaction had been - frightening.
Sam had seen Daniel in various states of pain both emotional and physical: from a mild wince after barking his shins on his office furniture while distractedly expounding on one subject or another, to the addled confusion following exposure to the ribbon device, to the spasms of sarcophagus withdrawal. But never had she seen him in such outright agony. For several heart-stoppingly long seconds she had been afraid Daniel would die as she watched helplessly.
Sam had to shake off the memories of times she had thought he was dead, times much earlier in their friendship. Even then she had known their lives had already become entwined; now though, his loss to her life and the team was unthinkable - as deep a loss as a family member.
‘Little brother Daniel?’ she silently asked the quiescent face, resting quite peacefully under the security of the colonel’s arm. Sam smiled at the gesture; even asleep the colonel was on duty. If she and Daniel were brother-sister, what did that make the colonel? Big brother? Or more a case of father-protector?
The things that made the colonel and Daniel such good friends had always been a mystery to her, and eventually she had given up trying to analyze it. It simply was and whatever they might face in the days ahead, she knew that one basic, essential truth would go a long way to seeing them through it.
Sam had to wonder if something had happened back in that barn the rest of them had not been told about, something that had the colonel in ‘mother hen times infinity’ mode. Whatever it was, Sam was sure it was not good, and that if something did not break soon, they could face the very real possibility of losing Daniel for good. If not by way of the nightmare danger, then they could lose him from SG1 due to their own anxious protectiveness, or as a result of Daniel’s increasingly affected health. Whatever happened, she knew with the utter certainty of many years of experience that the colonel would not allow things to continue as they were for very much longer.
Looking over at Daniel, watching Janet poke and prod the sleeping man, producing hardly any reaction, Sam confirmed in her own mind that the colonel was right….
This had to stop.
~*~
Blurry white ceilings, dim lights, subtle beeps, and very familiar snoring drew Daniel reluctantly out of the depths of sleep. Blinking heavily he turned his head toward the most distracting sound and saw Jack, as similarly connected to monitors as he was.
Putting together all available clues, Daniel surmised Janet was being her usual, overly cautious medical self due to the painstick charges they had endured - extended electrical shocks were not exactly heart friendly. The IV’s, he assumed, were for dehydration, but without his glasses he had no hope of reading the small print on the clear bags of liquid hanging above their heads…he had no doubt he wouldn’t see his glasses again until Janet was good and ready to give them back.
A smaller pouch of something extra hung on the pole closest to him, so Daniel ventured another assumption that Janet was trying to guarantee he slept long and deeply. While Daniel supposed the additional pouch could contain something totally mundane, the wavering colored lines on the edges of his vision spoke more to him of narcotics than antibiotics.
With a sigh of frustration, Daniel decided not to fight the pull of sleep, be it drugged or otherwise. The past few hours had given him the deepest rest he had enjoyed in far too long for him to remember.
Shifting carefully onto his side, Daniel felt the small aches of too many muscles forced to endure entirely too much stimulation in recent days. With a tired sigh, Daniel assured himself that Jack was still sleeping soundly, then let the drugs carry him away….
~*~
His skin rotted away so rapidly he could feel the bits and pieces of himself detach and discard themselves from him - unnecessary, unheeding. It was as if his body were boiling from the inside out, the excess exterior wittering away under the internal pressure, and soon - all too soon - there would be nothing at all left of him but blood and bones, nothing would remain to hold him together…
And still he was alone.
No one to touch, or be touched by, even if it were still possible. Never to touch or be touched again, and soon it would no longer matter, for he would be gone. Too unworthy of the chance he was offered, recognizing the promised freedom as simply another form of the same chains that already bound him apart from who he was, who he could be...
Only by letting go could he make a real difference, if only in his absence, and it made no difference to him anymore if it was a positive change or not.
It was time to just let go…
So he did….
The clatter of a metal tray from the bedside stand hitting the floor brought Jack upright amidst a jumble of phantom aches, phantom emotions, and all too real panic…
On the bed beside him, Daniel stirred restlessly, brows drawn as if something disturbed his sleep, but Jack had a strange feeling it was not the dream. The very fact Daniel still slept after all the noise Jack had made waking up told him either the good doctor’s drugs were a lot stronger than he suspected or Daniel’s exhaustion had reached the point where any artificial help would inevitably push him all the deeper. Either way Jack was just glad Daniel was getting some real rest for once.
Especially right now.
Jack had no idea why Daniel’s dream had decided to make a Technicolor appearance in his head to the extent that he was still breathing hard and trying to convince his body it was still in one piece. What he did know was it gave him a deeper insight into what Daniel had been working past and against for so long now.
Part of Jack wondered if maybe something about their torture had reopened the gates of their former connection, another part realized it didn’t matter.
Jack had just seen the future - Daniel's future - and it was completely unacceptable…
Part 4
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