First Contact, Last Encounter

by Jb

part five, of five

Keeping a stiff upper lip in the face of adversity was something to strive for, but no doubt he was taking that metaphor far too literally. Both of Jack's lips were tightly drawn to the point that he imagined them being so thin as to have disappeared off his face entirely. He could feel lines and furrows of grim perseverance digging ever deeper into his forehead and at the sides of his mouth as he marched on farther and farther in the opposite direction of where he really wanted to be headed. With each impact of his boots on the damp ground he reminded himself he basically had no choice, and with each breath in and out of his body he knew that was a pile of reeking dogshit deeper than anything ArseButt had or ever could have produced.

There was always a choice, and he had made the one he thought was best. The one he knew he had to make. He was responsible for all these people, and given the proven dangers of this godforsaken world it was time to get them home. Or at the very least get them started on the road to home. It felt as though there was a long, tense bungee cord wound around his waist, its opposite end anchored in the clearing where he had found Teal'c. With every step he took it stretched tighter and tighter, pulled against his forward motion more and more, got closer and closer to the point where it'd snap back with enough force to rip his body in two.

He had to go back.

But he couldn't go back.

But, he would go back. Just not yet. Right now the priority was getting this motley crew to the previous night's bivouac site, and deciding from there if they had enough time before nightfall to safely travel any further. It was obvious they wouldn't make it back to the dig site before the sun set, and equally obvious that to try to travel in the dark was a last resort option. From his position at the back of the pack, he critically assessed the group. The two uninjured members of SG3 manned the travois, a grunting and grimacing Griff securely strapped in place in the contraption, the double layer of blankets underneath him doing nothing to soften the rough ride. The other two marines gamely marched on side by side just behind the travois, occasionally offering quiet words of encouragement to Griff and one another. Their wounds disinfected and bandaged as well as limited supplies would allow for, and given the careful pace needed to spare Griff at least some portion of agony, the two men were managing just fine even though the group had been toiling down the trail for close to an hour already. They were doing better than fine, actually, considering they were injured, as even now they were still doing their part in staying alert, weapons at hand as they diligently watched for any lions-tigers-bears-things, Unas, crazed hosts, or any other dangers which might pop out of the woods.

Carter was on point, just visible ahead of the rest of them. Other than being impatient as hell with him and doing her disciplined best not to let it show, she was fine too. He knew she'd be finer, though, if he'd have let her in when making this decision. She had beseeched him with her body language and her eyes as he'd stood alone in the brush wrestling with duty versus desire, knowing and hating what he had to do all the more because not only was his decision a foregone conclusion, but also because he didn't doubt for a moment he was doing the right thing in choosing duty. He knew what she had wanted, and he knew why. She'd wanted to be asked to put forward options, to give voice to considerations and alternatives. He understood that for her, even when she already knew how the dice would roll, examining the variables out loud was her way of working through a situation, a means of meeting her own need to protect her conscience while reconciling herself to the inevitable.

He hadn't let her do that. He hadn't asked, and with one sharp glare had told her in no uncertain terms that unsolicited analysis was unwelcome. He really didn't want to hear it, didn't need it in order to make his decision, and certainly didn't need such an explicit reminder of just what he was doing. Which was, of course, leaving Daniel behind. Albeit a short term temporary situation - he hoped. But of course she didn't know that, because he'd shut her out and had no intention of changing that.

Teal'c, walking just ahead of Jack, was slowing down. Jack frowned, hoping Teal'c was all right. While it was obvious Teal'c was uncomfortable and tired, at least the shoulder looked much better now it was cleaned and the arm supported in a makeshift sling. Jack was concerned about that bang Teal'c had taken to the head, though. By both Jack's observation and Teal'c's own admission he'd been unconscious for a considerable amount of time, and that he'd been disorientated enough to attack Daniel in error was especially worrisome. A probable grade two or three concussion was nothing to take lightly, even considering Teal'c had a personal, built-in, holistic healer.

Jack needn't have worried, however. Teal'c shortened his stride enough so that Jack fell in alongside him, and if anything Teal'c looked stronger than he had at the outset of their hike. He gave Jack an appraising look. The old up with a single eyebrow coup. Never failed to get results. Despite himself, Jack found himself asking, "What?" Ah, crap. Please, Teal'c, there were things no one ought to speak of. Please, just let it be.

Teal'c let them walk on in silence for too many more paces for Jack's comfort, before the eyebrow dropped back down into its natural position and he answered, "You have no reason to doubt your decision to escort us, O'Neill."

Fine, yes, already knew that bit. Thanks for the support. Jack didn't answer, knowing Teal'c would understand he really didn't want to discuss it. Teal'c simply nodded, and they walked on side by side in companionable silence for a while. But there was another decision, the details of it made both necessary and unwise by the same sense of duty which had him walking away from Daniel; a decision he wasn't so sure about, the uncertainty tearing at him, and eventually he just had to ask.

"Teal'c..." How to say this? "Do you... what do you think about -"

"Made host or not, the Daniel Jackson I last saw was not under the control of a Goa'uld."

Oh, shit. Jack lost his temper, his hand slashing through the air with a vehemence equal to that in his voice. "Oh, cut the crap, Teal'c! I don't need you dancing around this. Shit, you've been hanging around Daniel far too long if you can't give a straight answer to a straight question. Do you think Daniel has one of those snakes in him, or not? If you can't be honest with me, just don't bother at all, then."

A heavy hand on his shoulder yanked against his forward motion, stopping him and hauling him around to face Teal'c. The look on Teal'c's face was calm, however grave, and his voice was clear and steady, but the strength of his fingers digging in to Jack's shoulder to the point it hurt was a clear sign the Jaffa was also angry. "Listen to me, O'Neill. You do not ask a straight question. You ask me to approve of your unspoken decision to leave and search for Daniel Jackson on your own. You ask me to assure you that you are safe in doing so, that you will not be required to fire upon and kill your friend as you were to kill his. In this, you ask too much of me."

Oh, crapfuck. Hell. Jack stood there, the truth of Teal'c's words biting deep, feeling as if he was turning to stone. A hard knot formed in his chest. That was exactly what he was doing - seeking some sort of false assurance, looking for a way to deceive himself that his determination to ignore the lack of manpower and go alone to look for Daniel had more to do with certainty over Daniel's situation than it did uncertainty. He was so fucked up.

Teal'c suddenly stiffened, his grip on Jack's shoulder tightening even further and his attention turning to the group in front of them. Jack looked ahead to see they had all abruptly stopped, and the travois was being slowly and carefully lowered to the ground. Beyond that he caught a glimpse of Carter, frozen in place facing forward down the trail, one hand supporting her upraised weapon and the other held up high in an unmistakable gesture of alert. Admonishing caution. Demanding silence. She stood there for a few seconds longer, slightly hunched over, leaning forward, and then very slowly began walking backward, placing her feet carefully and silently as she backed off from the head of the trail where it entered a blind curve in front of her. Her wariness and tension infected the entire group, and Jack found himself hefting his weapon in tune with the others, his breath hitching in his chest as he strained to see and hear the invisible and inaudible.

Taking a good look around in his heightened state of alertness, suddenly becoming aware of just how close they were to their pit stop now, Jack cursed his own preoccupations. He should have traded places with Carter long before now. The second Teal'c dropped his hand from Jack's shoulder Jack sidled away from him, seeking more distance lest they inadvertently impede one another or make any unwelcome noise as they moved forward. Teal'c was silent accompaniment as Jack instinctively moved in the way of the hunted and the hunter, gliding forward, his boots dancing over the dirt so as to produce only the most insignificant and natural of noises. The commanding officer in him made a mental note of the almost equally fluid, noiseless way Carter moved as she came back to them, and filed it away in the approvals and commendations basket in his head. In only a few short years, she was really getting the hang of it. A damn good officer.

His damn good officer was relaxing somewhat now as she got farther away from the head of the trail. Once she reached the main group she lowered the upraised hand and allowed her weapon to sag to half-mast. So, apparently nothing was imminently about to bear down on them, then. Jack quickened his pace to meet her, allowing the occasional out of place noise to escape, no longer quite as concerned as he had been. He sensed Teal'c at his side loosening up ever so slightly as well, and when he and Carter met up Teal'c was right there with him.

Her voice was a whisper. "Sir, I was sure I heard some noises up ahead, but then they stopped. I think there's something there."

What? That's it? Noises. What kind of noises? They were in a godammed forest, Carter. He narrowed his eyes at her, mentally placing a note in the not-so-commendable filing basket for the uncharacteristic ambiguity.

She looked slightly flustered in response to his wordless criticism, and then simply shrugged as she tried to clarify it. "I don't know... just, something that didn't sound like it belongs here. It was faint, Sir, hard to identify." Then her jaw tightened and her voice firmed. "I may not know exactly what it was or be able to describe it, but I did hear it and I know there's something up ahead other than trees and wildlife, Colonel. I'm certain."

Okay. Fair enough. Jack quickly advised the others to stay put, earning himself an unhappy stare from Teal'c as he clarified that order included the Jaffa, and motioned for Carter to lead the way. Once they'd left the rest of the group and were almost at the bend in the trail, they slowed their advance to an almost painful extent, each step forward an exercise in tight muscle control as they tried to avoid making any noise which would prevent them from hearing what may be ahead and reveal their presence to... it, whatever.

They stopped at the apex of the curve and Carter leaned in close to him, her voice softer than a light breeze on his ear and her warm breath tickling his skin. "The bivouac is just around the bend. You can hear the water if you listen closely."

Yes, he could hear it. A faint swish and trickle underneath the noise of the woods... the rustle of foliage, the gentle drip of moisture off the leaves on the tall bushes next to them, the intermittent scuttle and scurry of some small animal on the ground or in the trees. A barely audible ebb and flow of water, life-giving father and mother of the forest. He squinted his eyes and cocked his head and with all his heart and soul hated the sound and very existence of it, spawning ground of evil that it was.

Carter suddenly leaned forward, and at the very same moment as her he heard it too. Something else other than the native sounds of woods of water, an indefinable low cadence which carried on for several seconds until it faded away. She was right; it wasn't identifiable as anything in particular, but it clearly didn't belong. He took point, staying as close to the bush along the side of the dirt trail as he could without risking brushing against it and making too much noise as he carefully advanced around the bend. Carter was but a wisp of sound and substance behind him as the noise repeated itself, a quiet grumble which began abruptly, rose slightly in tone and volume, and then once again faded away before he could place what it might be.

If his memory served him, the large log which he'd pillowed against the night before was adjacent to a heavy thicket of brush, the stump of the tree it used to be sitting just at the point where the dirt track they were following began to straighten out. So, just a bit farther. He felt Carter's hand on his back, and turned, then shook his head in a definite negative as she signaled a suggestion that one of them split off to the far side of the pathway. No, not even though it was a scant twenty feet of separation. No way. This time, they stay together. Like glue, dammit.

He halted as the noise came again, and... what? Wait. His neck muscles tensed and lips squeezed into a tight line as he concentrated, as if that in conjunction with the almost painfully tense squint of his eyes might somehow improve his hearing. The noise continued for slightly longer this time, and... God, yes. Yes. He knew what it was now, and his grip on the P90 tightened automatically in anticipation of what he was probably going to be called on to do.

A voice. It was a human voice. Male. Muted mumbling so quiet that he could only now, this close to the clearing where it had to be coming from, recognise the noise for what it was. The words themselves were still too faint to be decipherable, but it was definitely language. There were two men unaccounted for - any two of Pierce, Sanchez, and Pankratz - and at least one of them was right around the corner. Carter's hand clutching the back of his vest was a sure sign she was thinking the same thing. Jack turned to her, drew her in close, and whispered into her ear, "Stay behind me. Follow the edge of the thicket to the near end of the stump."

She nodded her acknowledgement, and he moved them forward at a snail's pace. The voice was intermittent, and as he approached the last portion of the corner it silenced. He heard some indistinct scraping and crunching and carefully picked up speed, worried that whoever it was might leave the clearing and enter the woods before they could get a good fix on him. He led Carter to the right of the trail to skirt the edge of the thicket, and they were just rounding the last of it toward the large stump when the muttering started up again, and oh God it wasn't possible, he was mistaken, had, had, had to be, didn't want to be, wanted it to be true so badly he could taste it even as he was deathly afraid of it being true; but it couldn't be true, it was too good to be true so it wasn't possible...

He could see the clearing now. And yes, it was far too good to be true. He'd known it was too good to be true. Known it, and now the sight and sound of both what he'd most wanted and the concrete unassailable evidence of what he'd most dreaded hit him pretty much as hard as one of the worst gut-punches he'd ever received. Set him reeling back on his heels to the point he barely got his arm out in time to stop Carter as she excitedly moved to go past him into the clearing. Shot an arm out just in time and nabbed her hard, clutching her forearm and hauling her back so brutally she hissed in surprise and discomfort. He allowed himself a split-second's glance away from the clearing to give her a warning look and a quick, non-equivocal shake of his head. She stared at him, her eyes wide and uncomprehending, but that was too bad. She was going to have to figure it out for herself, because there wasn't enough spit in the mouths of all the billions upon billions of people populating the galaxy to adequately moisten his own enough so he could speak just then.

Many of the words carried to them now. "...know how they expect...for God's sake..."

Hands. Daniel's hands were untied. It was all Jack could see. Untied. It filled his awareness, sharpened the realised fear and dismay in his gut, brought sour bile to the back of his throat. Daniel's hands were untied.

"...crazy. Given what the thing is supposed...think they'd...easier to..."

It took Jack a moment. Needed a moment. Then as the rusted chains wrapped around his lungs loosened enough so he could breathe again, he was able to take in more of the scene. Daniel was all alone in the clearing, as far as Jack could tell. Sitting there on his butt at a slight angle to their position, hunched forward, right leg curled under him and the other awkwardly extended out in front of him, knee slightly bent and heel dug into the ground. He was surrounded by the scattered contents of two empty packs discarded in the dirt beyond him. Hands, untied. Doing... something.

Daniel / not-Daniel was obviously frustrated. He was rocking back and forth slightly as he fumbled with something in his lap, alternately muttering so softly that there was no hope anyone would hear it unless they happened to reside in the man's vocal chords, and then loudly enough so Jack and no doubt Carter could easily make out most of the words from where they stood twenty feet away. Jack stared in distress at the chaos, at the items large and small haphazardly littering the area immediately around Daniel. He'd taken the contents from both packs and literally strewn them all over the place.

His hands were untied, and he'd made it all the way here on his own when he could barely stand up straight the last time Jack had seen him, and he'd ransacked the packs.

"...God! Come on!" The rocking intensified, and suddenly Daniel / not-Daniel yelled loudly, "He doesn't have time for this!" and with a convulsive movement hurled the two items he'd been hunched over away from him. They flew through the air, one of them landing in clear view almost right in front of the bushes where Jack stood. He only just began to get a glimmer of understanding of what Daniel was up to, felt a small precious spark of hope ignite in his chest, when Daniel abruptly reached up and yanked the coiled leather leash up and over his head and arm, jerkily forcing it off his body and throwing it in the dirt. He kicked at it with his outstretched leg, and Jack clearly heard the pain and frustration in his voice as he accused it, "This is all your fault. Get away from me. He's going to die and it's all your fault." He pounded the ground with his fists, and immediately yelped and brought both arms up across his chest, hugging his hands and wrists to himself. Head down. Rocking.

Carter was straining at the bit beside him, her arm still in his tight grip. She hissed at him, "Sir! For God's sake, let me go to him! You can cover me. Having an audience shouldn't change anything. You can still blow him to kingdom come if you think you need to, if he spits at me with a forked tongue or you see the whites of his eyes. Just..." She pulled at her arm, "...let me go!"

She knew. She'd known all along, and he was a fool. He very nearly did let her go right then, but Daniel stopped rocking to roll off his rear onto his side, looking and reaching with one arm toward something large, dark, and lumpy lying by the log, just at the edge of Jack's view. Jack's heart plummeted, the spark dying, as Daniel plaintively choked out, "I'm sorry. I tried. I'm sorry, Robert, but I can't do it. I don't see how we're going to make it."

Carter yanked her arm free and was past him before Jack could react. Daniel's head jerked up, his body twisting around to her as she moved into the clearing. He stared, then let out a strangled cry at the sight of her, and she responded by moving more quickly toward him. Jack sucked in a breath and then released it with relief as she continued on to crouch at Daniel's side without being cut down in a hail of bullets, and as nothing came hurtling out of the shadows at her. But she was too close. Considering the unknowns here, she was far too close. He moved forward, his P90 at the ready sweeping the surrounding area carefully, continually flicking his gaze from Daniel to Carter to the water to the treelines to the pathway. Daniel gasped out Carter's name, and Jack picked up the pace as he heard him gush something about how they didn't have much time, he was right over there, and they had to hurry if they wanted to save him.

Save...? Okay, so that was definitely the Daniel part of the unknown in the equation speaking. Too bad he was certifiably nuts, though. God, Daniel, surely even a loony could see it was far too late for that. Carter was kneeling next to Daniel, holding on to both his forearms as he clutched at the lower portion of her vest. Too close! Jack reached their side in time to hear Carter's gentle reply, "Daniel, no. No, it's too late. I'm so sorry."

Daniel sat there staring at her with a stricken expression on his face, his mouth open but no sounds coming out. Jack leaned forward, grabbed the back of her vest, and yanked her away. Daniel didn't release her in front though, and Jack only succeeded in pulling both of them off balance. They hit the ground, Carter on her butt with Daniel pitching forward almost on top of her before letting go and scrambling sideways. Carter got up and reached out for him, but filthy and swollen hands waved her away. "No! No, it's not me needs help! You're wrong, you have to be wrong." An equally filthy face turned up to Jack, the depth of pain in Daniel's eyes making Jack cringe. "Jack! No, no it can't be too late! I just checked him, I did, it couldn't have been more than ten, no, five, probably only five minutes ago..."

Carter shifted uncomfortably beside Jack and shot him a pleading look. No. The answer was no. Stay put. Setting himself in protective stone, he faced Daniel square on. "Hello, Daniel. Got a question for you."

Daniel stared uncomprehendingly up at the two of them, his mouth moving slightly but no words coming out. He was a mess, looking impossibly tired, deep black circles under his eyes. Dirt streaked his pallid face and his grubby damp clothing, his hair equally a disaster area as the rest of him. Along with the swollen fingers, Jack noted the streak of dried blood along the outside of Daniel's right thigh, and the way he wasn't placing much weight on his left knee as he wobbled there in front of them. Overall, Daniel was a pitiful sight.

Carter tried again. "Sir, please. I'll be all right."

Jack ignored her, allowing a quick beat of silence, then launched the million dollar question. "How did you get your hands free?"

Beside him, Carter sighed deeply. Whether it was because she hadn't thought of that wrinkle herself or because she had and had decided to put it aside in favour of showing compassion, Jack wasn't sure. He was all too damnably certain, though, that him doing his job here precluded giving in to compassion right now.

The confused expression on Daniel's face slowly cleared and was replaced by flustered disbelief as he awkwardly levered himself to his knees. "What?" The word was sharp, more of a condemnation than a question.

Jack gestured to the rope laying on the ground beyond Daniel. "Nice trick. How'd you manage it?"

Daniel stared at him, his face darkening. "What? God, is that all you care about?" He made a gesture of his own, a vehement wave in the general direction of the log at the edge of the trail. "For God's sake, please! Go check him again!"

Carter's voice was gentle, her tone soothing. "Daniel, I'm sorry. He's gone. It happened hours and hours ago... surely you can see that?"

"Wh... what? What?" Daniel was suddenly struggling to his feet. "What the hell are you talking about? You don't know what you're..." He paused, stumbled in place, and gaped at them. "Oh my God. You think I... you're..." Suddenly he leaped forward unsteadily, reaching out for Carter. Jack pulled her back as Daniel grabbed for her, yelling, "No! Not Robert! For pity's sake, shit, no - "

Startled, Jack roared back at him. "Stop right there, Daniel! Answer the question! How did you get the rope off?"

"Fuck, Jack, that's not important right now! God!" Daniel was obviously over-exerting himself; he staggered and almost fell, but his mouth was still working in fine form. "I can see Robert is dead, shit, I'm not fucking insane here Jack! No, it's Pierce, you shithead," he pointed to the treeline at the far side of the dirt trail, across from the big log. "Go, Sam, go check him... he's just there, just in the bushes; he's been shot in the back."

Carter took off like a deer in the direction Daniel had indicated even before Jack had fully processed what he'd just heard. Having delivered the message Daniel abruptly went down like a stone, dropping to the ground to sit with his right leg again curled underneath him, both hands supporting his left knee as he shook his head, eyes closed, mumbling something barely audible to himself.

Jack wondered if she should even try to regain control over the situation - not that he'd ever actually had it to begin with. Where ever Daniel was involved command was an illusion, dependent more upon comradeship, communication, and respect than upon authority. He chastised himself for not having remembered and used that, and crouched down beside Daniel, just out of touching distance. "What was that?"

Daniel brought his bowed head up, opening red-rimmed, tired eyes. "What?"

"That." Jack flicked a hand toward Daniel, meaning, that, what you said.

Daniel didn't get it. "That? What, that?"

Okay. Start again. "What was it you just said? I didn't quite catch it."

Daniel rubbed his knee. "Nothing. Not important."

Oh, like the rope supposedly wasn't important? Irritation rose, and Jack knew it was all too evident in his voice when Daniel's eyes widened as he lectured him. "Everything I ask you or say to you is important right now, Daniel. You got that? I need answers. So, give them to me, right now. How did you get the fucking leash off? How the fucking hell did you find your way through the forest from way over there to way over here?"

Instead of answering his questions, Daniel jerked upright from his slouch, looking both alarmed and ill. "Teal'c! Jack, Teal'c is in trouble, he was shot... oh shit, hours ago! God, it's been - "

"Teal'c is fine, Daniel." The immense fear and disbelief in Daniel's eyes softened Jack's tone. "It's okay. He's just down the trail from here. He's bouncing right back; you know Teal'c. We heard the shooting just as we found Griff. I left Carter to look after him, and hightailed it back there and found Teal'c. It was you firing the staff, right?"

"Griff?" Daniel's voice sounded as weak and as lost as he looked. "What?"

"Yes, Griff. Never mind that. Was it you using Teal'c's staff weapon back there, Daniel? And was that before or after the rope came off? You have to answer me."

Carter came loping back over, breathlessly excited, before Daniel had finished with his carp imitation. "Pierce, Sir. Daniel's right. He's taken three slugs to the lower back, and one in the thigh. He's alive, but pretty badly off. Amount of blood loss is critical, I think." She gave Jack a blatantly rebellious look and reached out to give Daniel a touch on the shoulder. "Daniel's done the best he could to help him, Sir. Cut away from around the entrance wounds and cleaned and bandaged them." She pushed the envelope further by crouching down right next to Daniel, keeping her hand on his shoulder as she directed a question to him. "Did you try to move him at all, Daniel? To turn him or anything?"

Daniel looked at Jack, exhaustion and surrender plain on his face. "No. I was scared to. Sam, maybe you should back off from me for the time being." He twisted his upper body, pulling his shoulder out from under her hand, and gestured toward the litter on the ground. "There wasn't enough gauze or tape and I couldn't find anything else clean enough to use but bits and pieces of wrapping and stuff. Not very sterile. I gave him an IM shot of antibiotic, not that that's going to help much." He gave Carter a miserable look, and Jack grimaced guiltily as he watched Daniel scoot back from the reassuring, supportive expression which settled on her face.

Carter recovered from the sight before Jack did. "SG3 is just around the corner, but we've got a short rotation period here, Sir. It's going to be starting to get dark in an hour or so. It's a long way, a long time, back to the Stargate."

Daniel flopped back to lay spread out on his back on the ground, hands over his eyes. A low groan was throttled off, replaced by a dismal whisper. "I tried. I tried, Robert. I couldn't do it."

Yes. It was going to be a long way back home. She'd got that right.

"What, Daniel? What couldn't you do?" Oh, Carter. Jack could have throttled her for asking; he really didn't want to know the details of any conversations Daniel might have had with the corpse of the friend Jack had killed. It was all just far too insane.

"The rescue stretcher." Daniel's voice was muffled; he had both hands covering his entire face now. Jack wondered if maybe he ought to pull them away to try to keep that scrape on his cheek from... wait. That was a stupid thought. "I couldn't get the side tubing put together. My wrists are too sore. Not strong enough to twist the pieces into place."

Ah. The items Daniel had flung away from himself in frustration. Daniel had found Pierce, done his best to help him, and had been trying to put together the stretcher when they'd come on the scene. The spark of hope Jack had felt and then lost struggled to resuscitate itself, despite his misgivings. The minor blip of Daniel also having been talking to a dead man was something Jack found a bit scary, but in an entirely different way than compared to the major blimp of not knowing just how Daniel had gotten here, and had gotten that leash off. Jack was afraid to let that ember get going too strongly. Teal'c had pinned the butterfly to the wall when he'd said the snake in Rothman was at fault for all of this. Jack now knew, too fucking late for it to do him any good, that he could trust the Daniel they'd saved from the Unas, the Daniel who had in turn saved Teal'c's life, even the one who was lying right here in front of him. He could trust the Daniel of the last hour, the last minute, of the last second and of this very second, this very right here and now. But he had eight people other than himself to think about here, and that meant he couldn't trust the Daniel of the next hour, the next minute, or even of the very next second after this one.

"Call the others. Tell them to come on ahead. And stay back from Daniel." Without a parting glance at either Daniel or Carter, Jack pushed off toward the trees where Carter had been with Pierce. He found him lying semi-prone in the low underbrush, sat down next to him, and did a quick assessment. When Carter had said he was badly off, she hadn't been kidding. He fingered the chain holding the man's dogtags, and remembering the set in his pocket, he pulled them out. Wiped off the blood. Shit. Pankratz.

Laying a hand on Pierce's shoulder, he mulled over the problem and silently promised the unconscious man he'd do what he could, provided the risks to the others were acceptable. Full well knowing it was an empty promise - that given how far from the 'gate they were, Pierce's fate whether for better or for worse was well out of his hands - Jack stood up, dusted off, and crossed the pathway to retrieve the side tubing pieces for the rescue stretcher. He found the ones Daniel had thrown away, and then gathered up the rest of them and the cordura stretcher fabric, and dumped the whole pile next to Carter where she stood on watch a couple of feet away from Daniel. Daniel had one arm at his side and the other thrown across his face, and didn't move, his breathing sounding a bit on the sonorous side. He sat down and started to fit the titanium tubing pieces together.

"He looks bad."

Carter glanced at him. "Who? Pierce, or Daniel?"

Touché there, Carter. "Pierce."

"Daniel's asleep. He's exhausted, Sir. Probably dehydrated too. We have to move it with Pierce; thing is, I don't think Daniel will be able to keep up even if he gets some rest right now. I think there's something wrong with his left leg."

Yeah, noticed that. "We can't go anyway, not all of us." He fitted the end of one tube into the next, twisted firmly, then slid the small cotter pin into place. Efficiently did the next one, and then the next. "Not enough pole-bearers to handle both Pierce and Griff." Heard noises from up the trail and knew the others were just around the bend. "Not enough able-bodied people to keep an eye out." Picked up the last piece of tubing, thinking about all the empty activities he'd engaged in throughout his life. He slid the two lengths of tubing into the sides of the cordura, and Carter bent over and helped to pull them through.

There may not be such a thing as choiceless, but pointless, that was another story.

Daniel woke to pain, too much pain - a huge headache, and an incredible ache in his hip and deep throbbing in his knee which combined to steal his breath away. And to the sound of a lowered deep voice somewhere just off to his right, accompanied by indiscriminate noises telling of movement. To semi-darkness, and to delayed awareness of a silent presence at his side. He turned his head to see, trying to separate dry lips which grated across one another like sandpaper. His mouth tasted like shit.

Teal'c! "Here is water, Daniel Jackson." Before he was ready, a stream of water came jetting from the bottle in Teal'c's hand and hit him only more or less in the general vicinity of his mouth. It barely wet his lips, most of it running down his chin, over his neck. He nodded his thanks anyway. It was nice of Teal'c to try. To even be here sitting so close to him. Oh, look. What was that Teal'c was... oh. A sling. Right. That made sense.

"Sit up. We shall try again." A big hand fisted in his jacket, and Daniel was drawn up. He put his hands down and tried to support himself as best he could as Teal'c pulled. His hip screamed at him long before he was actually sitting upright, and his head swam, vertigo upping the ante his headache had staked. Teal'c stared at him in the dying light for a moment, and then slid an arm under his own and hauled on him even moreso. "You are unable to sit unsupported. Come with me."

Daniel mumbled, "Maybe I should just lie back down then," but he was already halfway up, the part of him not actively trying to stifle tears - wouldn't that be mortally embarrassing - marveling at how Teal'c's being shot and concussed evidently hadn't put much of a dent in his ability to throw Daniel around like he was a dried-up leaf on the wind. Limping painfully, he closed his eyes against the dizziness, leaned on Teal'c, and hoped to hell they weren't going very far because if so there was no way he'd make it. Damned if he wasn't already about to pitch over onto his face the minute Teal'c relaxed his grip. He was eased down a few staggered steps later, though, and felt the big log at his back.

Oh God. The log. His eyes snapped open and Daniel looked around wildly, everything slip-sliding and spinning around him as the vertigo increased with the movement of his head. He squeezed his eyes closed again and put his hands out to feel the ground at either side of him. Robert. Where was -

"On the other side, Daniel." Jack?

Daniel slowly opened his eyes, experimenting. Okay, if he didn't move his head much it was bearable. Teal'c sat perched on the log, towering over him with water bottle in hand, and Jack was crouched in front of him. Daniel couldn't help but notice the three feet of open air between them, and at the reminder wished he hadn't woken. At least this time there was no challenge, no fearful suspicion, in Jack's voice as there had been before. Jack had answered his question softly, with concern, even though he hadn't actually asked it - Robert was still here, just on the other side of the log. That knowledge was both reassuring and horrifying. Daniel morbidly wondered how the others felt about hanging out in the dark with the dead. Sam, Teal'c... uhh, Jack said they had found Griff, too, right? And that SG3 were here. So, Sam, Jack, Teal'c... uhm, Jack, Teal'c...

He looked around, peering into the dimness of the clearing lit only by the lingering rays of the setting sun. Getting dark out. Why were they still here? For that matter... just who was here? He squinted everywhere looking for any sign of anyone other than the three of them, very aware of Jack watching him closely. That MRI wouldn't come soon enough, damn it. Sam? Where was she? He asked it. "Where's Sam?"

"She isn't here right now." Jack gave a slight flick of his head, and Teal'c stood up and moved off without a word.

"Where'd she go? Did she leave to take Pierce home? With SG3? To the Stargate?"

There was a deep sigh. "She went to the Stargate with SG3, yeah."

Good. That was good. "Who's still here?" He looked around once more, seeing no one else.

"Daniel..." Jack drew his hands through his hair, a sure sign Daniel was trying his patience. "Who do you see here? Never mind. How are you feeling?"

Daniel leaned back against the log, but relaxation was a long ways off. Despite Jack's nicety, there was something immensely heavy hanging in the air between them. It was huge and evil and scary as hell, and Daniel couldn't stand it. It was him, between them, and he was so afraid that he was wrong and Jack was right. "Yes. It was me."

"What?"

"It was me. Firing the staff. What else was it you needed to know? About the rope, right? I got it off later on, in the woods."

"Yeah?" Jack reached down and picked something up off the ground beside him. The rope. It was right there, right next to Jack. Oh, Jesus. "Really? All by yourself? Mind if I ask how?"

Daniel cringed away from the rope, then swallowed against the lump in his throat and admitted to himself that it was probably for the best. Took a deep breath. "Teal'c had already gotten it started. I just found the loop he'd pulled up and worked on it from there. It was easy, actually. It wasn't even really knotted, so to speak." Jack was playing with the rope, drawing the trailers across the ground, making sweeping faint lines in the dirt, and didn't answer.

"I peeled off into the woods not looking where I was going, and I got lost, Jack." Daniel's voice cracked, his throat dry and sore, and he had to pause. Jack dropped the rope and reached behind him to the back of his belt. A water bottle appeared and Jack held it out to him. Gratefully, Daniel squirted a small amount in his mouth, just enough to wet his throat. "It was only luck I made it to here. I had no idea where I was." Please, believe me.

"Drink, but only small amounts at time to start with or you might puke it all up. You got a headache?"

What? Daniel answered cautiously, "Yeah," drawing out the word in his confusion over the change of subject.

"Yeah. Thought you might. Bit of dehydration." Jack picked up the rope again, fiddled with it. "Daniel, the snakes in the water. They're different. The hosts behave... different."

Daniel thought back to his and Teal'c's attacker, to the frenzied, insane chase through the woods. The barrage-style shooting, the howling, the apparent homicidal rage which Daniel had felt the creature blasting at him even from a great distance. "The one chasing me wasn't very rational. Probably too primitive to exert any degree of sophistication of control over emotions." He remembered the fracas in the water, over the plastic bottle. "From what I can tell, they're pretty much out of control in their natural environment, too."

Jack was staring at him strangely. Far too intently. Feeling like a bug under a microscope he hurried on to explain himself, not really understanding why he felt such a strong need to do so. "I mean, they don't seem to be capable of any sort of impulse control. I witnessed a bunch of them ripping each other to shreds in the water, and in a host... well, the one that got Teal'c was on a full-out rampage. It was insane, really. It has to be the same one that shot Pierce and killed Robert. Totally out of control. Look, I know you think that these Goa'uld can somehow hide their existence from the host. I know how worried - "

"What makes you think that?"

Daniel cut off the flow at Jack's interruption, wincing to see Jack's face harden and his whole body tense up. Shit. Think what? He'd just spouted off a ton of stuff Jack likely hadn't wanted to hear; figuring out which part in particular was in question would be hit or miss at best. His confusion was read by Jack before he got a chance to ask, and he got a clarification so carefully worded and precisely enunciated that it was intimidating. "Just what is it makes you think your and Teal'c's attacker shot Rothman?"

Oh. That. "Robert and Pierce, both. Hawkins was killed with a staff blast, and he's the only one of the three with an entry wound. At first I thought he must have done it and then Teal'c shot him. But I realised the trouble with SG2 only happened later. Pierce is SG2. You didn't know there was a problem with SG2 until after we came out of the caves."

Jack turned his head, looked away. Didn't look back. Daniel sat there, silent, his headache slamming at his skull, feeling the pinch in his hip, only too content not to discuss the means of Robert's death further. God, Robert. Daniel stared up at the darkening sky. Robert had been so excited at the prospect of studying the remains of the primitive Goa'uld. Had wanted to do a proper job of it, with proper excavation techniques and documentation. To write it up as a formal academic study, just in case some day the information could go beyond the SGC. Daniel felt a small smile of fondness tickle at his lips. No conclusions allowed without checking sedimentary timelines, Robert had chided him. Rightfully so, too.

"You're wrong about the symbiotes." Jack was looking guardedly at him, his voice so soft Daniel wasn't quite sure he'd caught it correctly until Jack's next words made it clear he had. "At least some of them are capable of far more sophisticated control that you know, Daniel. Hawkins was all but completely devoid of emotion. So damped down in affect I knew right from the start there was something not quite kosher." Daniel nodded as Jack paused, not because he was interested in hearing more but because it was obvious Jack was struggling with getting this out. It was important to Jack.

One sentence later he wished he hadn't encouraged Jack, wished he'd told him to go away, not to talk to him at all. "Rothman was just the opposite." That he could block it all out as if it had never been said. "No way we could tell, none of us, until it was far too late to do anything but react to save lives. We have no way of knowing if the snake was imitating him, or if it was concealing its presence even from its host. Whichever, it was fucking perfect, Daniel. Too damn fucking perfect."

Shut up. Shut up. No. Not Robert. Not to the Goa'uld, not that way.

"I killed Rothman. It was me, Daniel. I did it."

No. Not true. Daniel locked his arms around his stomach. He'd known it. Had. No. Hadn't. Couldn't have because it wasn't true. He swallowed convulsively. Sick. He was going to be sick. God, no, make it not true. It wasn't true when Teal'c had alluded to it back before they'd been attacked. It wasn't true when he realised his team believed he might have a Goa'uld that could fool even its host. It wasn't true when he'd known it before, when he'd pulled the zipper down to reveal tousled dark hair and had known it, had known it, known...

He leaned to one side and with a great cramp and violent jerk, retched up his toenails. Once, twice, then again. He couldn't breathe. The nausea took total control and he was dying from it, the dry retching ripping his guts apart in huge painful heaves. He was cold, like ice, and then so hot he was aflame. Pitching over, unable to hold himself up. Falling short of the ground into something both strong and hard, and soft. Gradually it eased and he was left panting, the muscles in his abdomen aching and his throat seared by bile.

"Okay?" Jack. It was Jack, so strong and hard and soft, supporting him. Daniel nodded; yes, okay. Jack maneuvered him back to lean against the log. The water bottle appeared in front of his face. "Here. Just a bit." The water picked up the sour taste of his mouth, and Daniel couldn't bear to swallow it. He spit it out, but Jack wouldn't let him get away with that, and made him actually drink some. Warm, vile water.

It's all right; Hawkins can do a water run. Daniel drew in a deep breath. Closed his eyes. "It's because of Robert that you can't trust me."

There was a pause, then Jack said, "I don't know what to say, Daniel. I want to believe it isn't possible, but we all lived it. He blew up in our faces. Came damned close to killing someone. Too damned close."

Ah, well. "Then you had no choice. Robert would understand, Jack."

"Do you?" The quick question was urgent, clearly blurted out without forethought, hidden anxiety riding on each word.

Daniel bit his lip. He was so tired. Sick, hurting, tired. Scared. "Yes, I understand." His eyes stung suddenly, his nose blocking up. Don't. He held his breath and sternly told himself, don't. Don't cry. "I understand that you shouldn't trust me. You're doing the right thing, Jack."

Jack lurched to his feet and quickly walked away for a short distance, to stand with his back to Daniel. He knew Jack hadn't wanted to be reassured Daniel thought he was doing the right thing. Jack almost always knew whatever he was doing was the right thing, even when it wasn't. He probably wanted to know he wasn't going to end up having to kill him too, but they both knew Jack couldn't accept that reassurance, not until it was offered up in the form of an MRI result. No, there was something else. Something else Jack hadn't told him, didn't particularly want to tell him, but couldn't live with himself if he didn't let spill. Daniel rolled his head back against the log and hoped to God Jack would chicken out on this one. Shit, his hip and knee hurt like hell.

Slowly, Jack turned and walked back, then again crouched in front of him. "It's a long walk to the Stargate. Too long."

Oh God. Not another one.

"I'm sorry, Daniel." Jack picked up the end of the rope and fingered it, silence stretching between them for a few moments, then abruptly grabbed the whole thing up in both hands. "Show me how you got it off."

Fine. May as well tackle the bull by the horns. "So you can be sure to do it up right, so I can't get out of it again?"

Daniel cringed back against the log as Jack abruptly leaned forward and hissed at him, apparent anger at whoever and whatever turning his face into a twisted mask. "What? Did I say anything about tying you up again? What the hell kind of monster you think I am?" He turned his face away, his shoulders sagging. "Fuck, Daniel."

Sorry, sorry.

Jack bowed his head, staring at the ground. His voice was barely audible. "No one is going to tie you up. I'll make sure of it." He suddenly straightened and moved forward, swinging around and dumping himself down to sit against the log, shoulder to shoulder with Daniel. Actually touching him. He held out one end of the rope. "Show me." Daniel frowned at him. How, if he wasn't to put it on first? Jack shrugged, then turned slightly sideways and thrust out both his hands, wrists held closely together. "Show it to me, on me."

Daniel's chest seized up, and he couldn't hold back what had been threatening for most of the day. Before he could prevent it, one rough sob ripped out over the demonstration of such blind faith. Such a difficult, near impossible, thing for Jack O'Neill that Daniel's hands were trembling badly as he accepted the precious gift. Gently, he pulled Jack's wrists a bit farther apart. He held the rope at the base of Jack's left wrist, about three feet from the rope's end, then pulled that portion of it along, looping it over the right before then taking it back along to ensnare the left wrist. He stopped then, averting his eyes to stare at the ground, unsure about continuing.

"Daniel." Jack wiggled his hands. "Really. Show me." His voice dropped to a whisper, soft and rough at the same time. "Show me."

Daniel nodded. Show me you understand that I'm sorry for the things I have to do; show me you understand that I care even though I do what I have to. That was what this was all about, and yes, how could he not return in kind the hard wrought faith so painfully offered him? He took the working end portion of rope and began wrapping it around both of the lengths between Jack's wrists. Struggling with his swollen fingers to make a convoluted mess of the loops similar to what the Unas had produced, he didn't look up as he finished it off, laboriously tucking the free end of the rope he'd been working with into and underneath the messy bundle of loops between Jack's wrists.

"Ah. I see." Jack turned his hands over as much as he could. "Kinda like a figure-eight version of a hangman's knot. He shifted to sit back, once again shoulder to shoulder with Daniel.

"Jack..." He had trouble going on.

"Daniel." It's okay.

No, it wasn't okay. Daniel took a deep breath, twisted his shaky hands in his lap. "Is Robert ever going to get home?"

The only answer for a long period was silence, followed by a gentle bump of shoulder against shoulder. "I don't know, Daniel. I'll try."

Daniel knew from the way Jack answered him, from the grave tone, that he wouldn't only try, he'd fight for it. He reached over and fumbled with the rope binding Jack's hands, located the loop which was the last one he'd made before stuffing the end in underneath, and pulled on it until the end came right free. Jack grunted, and moved his hands apart.

The binding unraveled ridiculously easily, and Jack was free.

Daniel leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Jack's body next to his in the cool night air, hearing the gentle swish of water and low noises of the nocturnal forest awakening. Immense regret brought a renewed tightness to his chest. This world, 888, had been Robert's first contact with a chance to shine in the SGC, to control something uniquely his. And it was his last. That wasn't good enough.

If he was able, if he survived, so long as he wasn't hosting one of the symbiotes, he'd come back here. He'd come back to 888, for Robert. Not only that, he'd keep on coming back. He'd study the Unas, and he'd use proper anthropological methodology, and he'd do it in Robert's name. He wouldn't just ask; he'd fight for it.

There would be no last encounters here.

Feel free to contact the author...

Return Home

Within the context and limitations of the site Disclaimer, Any and All original characters, situations, story line, dialogue and narrative © March 15th, 2002, the author