True to Form

by Jb

part four, of nine

It was almost impossible to concentrate. No matter how hard he tried, Daniel couldn't seem to revive that premonition of insight he had experienced at the SGC when he first viewed the altered DHD glyphs. It was unreachable, crushed under monumental exhaustion and discomfort. He knew he had run across this before, somewhere, somehow... but four hours of studying the markings carved into the outer rock walls of the dwellings had brought him no closer to remembering just where or in what context he had encountered similar inscriptions. He had made no progress whatsoever.

As Daniel drew a shaky hand across his mouth and slumped against the wall, pain seared across his forehead and a taut band squeezed around his head, as if it were caught in a vise. He closed his eyes against it. The weakness and nausea he'd valiantly tried to deny existed surged to the forefront and his legs suddenly gave way. Strong hands grasped his shoulders and safely guided him in his unscheduled journey to the ground.

"Shall I call Colonel O'Neill or Captain Carter?" Teal'c's normally impassive tone was soft and full of concern, even though despite his best intentions Daniel had been unmercifully rude to the Jaffa since their arrival there. Guilt joined with the pain and nausea.

Swallowing hard, Daniel only just managed to keep from choking on the bile which rose to the back of his throat. "No, Teal'c. I'm okay. Just a bit nauseated, and tired." He leaned back against the rough stone wall and rubbed his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you before... I don't know what's wrong with... "

"Captain Carter is concerned about the seriousness of your head injury. She has explained to me that persons who suffer from trauma to the brain may exhibit uncharacteristic behavior. We have discussed your ability to undertake this task in your present condition."

Daniel's eyes snapped open. On one level he understood Teal'c was trying to reassure him, to say he need not apologize - that his irritable behavior probably wasn't his fault - but at the same time Daniel felt an overpowering flash of anger at what seemed to be the callous manner in which the Jaffa had chosen to do that. And at the alarming intimation that his headache might be more than just a headache, and at the unspoken suggestion he would fail.

"What?" Even as the annoyed cry left his lips Daniel recognized how quickly that intense anger had surged. The irritation dissolved as quickly as it had come and an uncomfortable knot of anxiety formed in his chest. Anger was not what he normally would have expected to feel over such a comment... amazement, confusion, yes, and concern his friends were worried he might not be well enough to do what had to be done, and certainly fear for himself. But that burning, overwhelming anger... that just wasn't right.

"I am sorry, Daniel Jackson. Unlike Captain Carter, I feel it is advisable that you be aware of all factors which might influence your success here. You are the only one who can impact our situation. If there is more to your injury than is apparent, that is an important consideration which must be taken into account."

Daniel pushed himself up onto his knees, one hand resting on the wall for support. He took stock of himself, of the marginally diminished nausea, the dizziness, the sharp pains and associated uncomfortable throb of his head. It hadn't gotten any worse than it was before, really... his vision was fine... he felt weak, sure, but he wasn't excessively drowsy or anything, and it had been one full night and close to a full day - what, almost, uhm, twenty-something hours? - since he had hit his head. He was still up and kicking. Surely if it was more than a concussion, if he had a bleed or something bad like that, he'd be getting more drowsy, he'd be disoriented, wouldn't he? Or something?

God, it was hard to concentrate, though. No. That was to be expected. It was okay, he was okay. "No. No, Teal'c... no, it's just a bad headache, that's all. I'm, I'm pretty sure. It's just... hard to think...but that's because the headache is distracting. And I'm tired." There. See, he was all right. None of them could afford for him not to be fine. He was just fine.

"As that may be, I agree with Captain Carter you are not yourself, Daniel Jackson; your behavior is cause for concern. If you feel capable of continuing, I will help you as much as I can. The sooner we solve this puzzle, the sooner you will receive attention."

Oh, hell. Daniel sorely wanted to yell at Teal'c to forget his damn behavior and quit talking in circles. He realized with some chagrin, however, that was exactly the sort of behavior which provoked their concern. "I'm sorry. I, I didn't realize... have I really been that much of a pain in the butt?"

Two voices, rather than one, answered him. Simultaneously, Daniel heard Teal'c's faultlessly honest "Yes" and the sharp counterpoint from Sam as she quickly crossed over to him from the pathway.

"No, Daniel... it's okay. You've been a bit irritable, but that's understandable. You have a heck of a concussion; you're bound to be a bit labile."

Daniel fought the urge to snap at her, to tell her in no uncertain terms that she need not patronize him. He raised his eyebrows - oh, ow, bad idea - and widened his eyes at her in an unmistakable quest for honesty. She glared pointedly at Teal'c. "Boy, Teal'c. Thanks ever so much." Sam turned her attention from the Jaffa to Daniel. "Okay, look, Daniel, you haven't been just a bit irritable. You've been a lot irritable. And you're obviously having trouble concentrating. Nobody wants to jump to any conclusions here; we just want to keep an eye out for you. Like right now, I think you should stop and take a break, maybe close your eyes for awhile, okay?"

Daniel stared up at Sam, searching her face. Her attempt at tact was unwelcome. He suspected it hid an honest assessment which she had decided to keep from him. "You don't need to treat me like a child. You think there's something really bad wrong, that I might get worse instead of better, don't you?" He gathered his thoughts. "You think I should slow down because you're afraid I'm going to get sicker more quickly, if I keep working." He kept the rest of it to himself - the part about her thinking he couldn't do this, and being afraid the rest of them would be stuck here forever because he'd keel over dead before he could translate the glyphs.

He was certain the look on her face confirmed his interpretation. She thought there was something seriously wrong, and he couldn't do it. Great. Really positive thinking. He wanted to rail at her, at both her and Teal'c, to thank them for the wonderful prognosis and all the moral support. They were scaring him shitless. But it occurred to him that the issue of what might be happening in his head really was moot. They didn't exactly have a CT scanner here, and it was a catch 22 anyway. If there was something really awful going on in there - which he seriously doubted - he could either lay around and rest himself to death, or he could work himself to death. And for him, at least, it was a no-brainer as to which it ought to be.

Gathering himself, hoping his voice sounded a lot steadier than he felt, Daniel pointed out, "Sam, if Hammond's not going to send any food or supplies through, we can't afford to go slow here. No matter what anyone thinks might or might not be going on with me." His sore shoulders felt like the weight of two worlds was bearing down on them.

"We can avail ourselves of the water and plant life of this planet should our supplies run out. That is not of concern. It is you who is our most valuable resource, Daniel Jackson, however I do agree with you." The rebellious look Teal'c shot at Carter surprised Daniel. "If there is any possibility, no matter how uncertain, that you may become increasingly ill then we must assume we do not have much time. Tell us how we might assist you with the translation. Whatever it is that you may need."

Thankfully, Sam sat quietly, her lips pressed together in a narrow line, as Daniel rubbed his forehead and answered Teal'c. He really didn't think he could have curbed his mouth if she chose to challenge his decision. "Uhm... it's not a translation, Teal'c. I mean, I don't actually have to translate anything. I need to figure out the morphology of these symbols in comparison to the altered ones on the DHD, uhm... and, and... oh, determine how they relate to the astrological pictographs that are supposed to be on the DHD. I don't actually think you can give me anything I need. At this point it's too soon for you to be able to... to...

"...okay, yeah, wait. There is something I need. Sam? Coffee? Lots of black coffee."

She shook her head at him and with what looked to be a mixture of resignation and possibly anger, turned away toward the fire. "Okay, fine... but Teal'c, if he falls flat on his face it'll be on your head."

Daniel ignored her typically optimistic approach and worked at thinking past the powerful headache and the new fear their conversation had generated. "Okay, so, I can't quite remember, but there's something about these symbols that seems familiar. I'm hoping it'll come back to me as I go along. Ah, God, this headache. So far, from looking at individual symbols I don't think they're likely to be pictographic. If they were pictographs, especially if in an early form, then there should be some of them that at least in some general way, resemble the concrete objects they represent."

Sam turned back toward Daniel. "But do pictographs have to be recognizable as anything? You've said many times that the DHD symbols are pictographs. Personally, Daniel, I've just never really been able to understand it that way. They're just general shapes, mapping out angular relationships between stars. I mean, I know we have names for them and some stories attached to some of them, but face it, other than their resemblance to astrological symbols from Earth, most of them don't really look like anything at all."

"Well, yes, actually, they do. Just not necessarily from our perspective. The symbols are abstract pictographic representations of star formations... you already know that, Sam. In fact that's what you just said yourself, right now, without even realizing it. Representations of angular relationships between the stars. Particular stars were chosen and visual relationships established beween them... they were linked together with imaginary lines that turned into pictures. We have names for all of the resulting shapes, and for some of them that we routinely recognize in Earth's night sky the names and shapes of the pictographs do seem to relate to objects, like Triangulum being the shape of a triangle, or Libra, looking like scales. On Abydos I found combinations of a few of the DHD pictographs in the night sky, in their constellations, and the Abydonians have long-established conceptualizations of what those visual relationships amongst their stars represent. Just like on Earth. So, extrapolate that to all of them."

"I don't know, Daniel. Even if that's so, I don't see how it's at all helpful here. Like I said, most of the DHD glyphs aren't really recognizable as much of anything in particular except for the names we associate with them. And we're on an alien world here, with a completely different night sky and completely altered glyphs."

Daniel paused to once again rub at his forehead. The headache was getting worse. "Remember, the Stargate was created by an alien race. We aren't familiar with exactly how they might have perceptually interpreted star formations, or on what basis they originally chose particular stars in relation to whatever other stars for the representations, so if the shapes seem nonsensical to us, that's the reason. It really doesn't matter, though. We have names for them all, and our interpretations of the shapes have been passed down through the ages. That's courtesy of the Ancients, and that means we can use those interpretations here." All right, Sam... end of debate, okay? Daniel was sure he was going to throw up any minute.

"But Daniel... Okay. All right, maybe all the Stargate symbols are pictographs representing star formations, and even though we can't recognize what they objectify we have names for all of them. But if you say the interpretations of the shapes, not just the names, are constant according to one race's perceptions, then you're claiming the builders of the Stargate had something to do with the way people on Ancient Earth originally located and interpreted the star constellations."

Daniel sighed, his impatience with her growing by leaps and bounds. "Christ, Sam. Isn't that obvious? Didn't I just say that? It stands to reason, doesn't it? We've got our little Earthman symbol we've named Gemini carved out in dirt and rock, my God, literally centuries ago, and more recently it's next to the Saturday night funnies in the newspaper... and then it shows up on an ancient alien mechanism that's a gateway to the stars. So it never was ours, originally, to begin with."

Feeling both frustration and exhaustion taking over, Daniel gave Carter a withering look. "God, I never thought you would be this obtuse. All of the DHD symbols represent angular relationships between stars - the constellations, you said so yourself - and over the ages people have associated the star formations with ideas of what tangible objects they look like. They're pictographs, Sam. And pictographs are supposed to be pictures of things. The only reason these pictures might make any sense to us here on Earth is that's what we've been indoctrinated into seeing. The builders of the Stargate influenced our very perceptions of the stars, and because the same glyphs are used throughout the galaxy it's a pretty safe assumption that the same influence occurred elsewhere, as well as on Earth. And later, especially with civilizations established through Goa'uld migration of established cultures from Earth, the interpretations of the glyph pictographs would have been ported across the galaxy right along with the people."

Enough digression. Daniel dragged one hand through his hair and returned to the subject at hand. "This writing, though..." He waved at the surrounding wall. "It's hard to figure out where to start. I don't see anything here that even remotely could be representative of any of the natural or man-made objects I've seen on this planet. Mind you, that's not all that significant because the only things left here now are basically trees and rocks. It's more than that... the forms seem too elaborately abstract, too complex to be pictographs in the sense that I'm used to. But there's too many of them for this to be an alphabetic language."

The headache was fierce. "I don't know. They must be either syllabic or ideographic. Oh hell... I don't know just what all this is. Right now I'm not sure I care. I'm gonna puke." Leaning back to rest his head against the wall Daniel fought to control his stomach, and slowly closed his eyes. As he did so, he was certain he saw barely restrained fear on Sam's face as she bent over the fire to make the coffee.

"So he crashed on us, did he?" Settling down next to Carter, Jack waved at hand at the nearby still figure, laying huddled in a sleeping bag.

Carter poked at the fire. "We'll need some more wood if we want to keep this fire going much longer."

"Captain?"

"Four and a half hours, Sir. He lasted all of four and a half hours."

It was his turn to poke at the fire now while he considered her concerns. Carter wasn't the only one worried about Daniel, but Jack was trying hard to keep his pessimism under control. "Well, that's not entirely accurate... he did make it all the way up here today." He looked sideways at Carter just in time to see the flash of sorrow in her eyes.

"Yes, Sir." She stood and brushed the dirt off her rear. "I'll just go and gather some wood, now that you're here to keep an eye on Daniel."

Jack let her go. "Take Rykert with you." He just wasn't in the mood right now for Carter's particular brand of realism - her propensity for realistic appraisal and pointing out the downside of any plan was omnipresent - and luckily for him, it seemed that nor was she. It wasn't necessary to discuss anything; they both had the same doubts about their chances of ever getting off this world any time soon. Even with a healthy Daniel and the full resources of the SGC, O'Neill knew deciphering the complex changes in the DHD glyphs was not likely to be a slap and tickle affair. Now, with no way to contact Hammond and with Daniel barely able to concentrate long enough to figure out which way to pull the zip on his fly...

Jack couldn't help but notice the rising level of tension amongst his team members. Carter and Teal'c disagreed on what Daniel should or shouldn't be doing and when he should or shouldn't do it, and Daniel... well, O'Neill figured if he ever ran across anything in the Colorado woods that growled like that, he'd probably just shoot at it and run like hell. While Daniel couldn't be blamed for his uncharacteristic behavior, it was just that - Daniel's condition - which was the root of everyone else's temper.

It wasn't hard to figure out why, either. Only ten days ago Carter and Teal'c had been shocked to see the evidence of Daniel's suffering on Klorel's ship - the bloodied jacket with almost the entire left chest blown away. Each in their own way, they were trying to help him now; Carter by trying in vain to look out for his immediate comfort and safety, and Teal'c by concentrating on whatever had to be done to get Daniel back to Earth as soon as possible.

"Jack..." He looked up from the fire to see Daniel peering out from under the top edge of the sleeping bag. "Christ." Daniel started squirming around, working his hands out and fumbling at the zipper. "She's got me zipped up outta sight in here like I was a pair of Fruit of the Looms..." He tugged at the zipper to no avail. "Help me with this, will you. I gotta get out of here."

There's our boy. Relief at Daniel's ability to joke about his predicament, however irascibly, provoked a wide smile as O'Neill rose and made his way over to answer the challenge. The zipper was well and truly stuck, though, and he ended up yanking at the bottom of the sleeping bag as Daniel laboriously twisted and crawled his way out the top.

"You should still be resting, Daniel. You'll get us both in big trouble here."

"Yeah? Where is she, anyway? Maybe we oughta take off out of here while the getting is good."

Jack shook his head, smiling. Not nice, not nice at all... Danny, Danny, Danny. He let his eyes travel over the kid, noting the general tension, shaky hands, and red-rimmed eyes. "What? You need something for pain, Daniel?"

"No, it's okay. Look, Jack, I think I might know what it is with these symbols." Daniel's voice trembled as noticeably as did his hands. "I need some help though... I need you to come over here." Daniel was scrambling awkwardly on all fours toward the far wall. Jack wasn't sure if that was because he didn't have the strength to get up onto his feet, or if whatever was of most interest was down there at knee level. It really didn't matter; either way, himself, he preferred to walk it.

"I was just laying there, and it sorta came to me. Remember PX... uhh, P3... whatever, 989? Altair, Harlan? Our clones?"

Jack winced at the memory as he joined Daniel at the wall. The young man was sitting down tracing some carvings low on the wall with one finger. "Yeah. What does that have to do with this stuff?"

"Okay, well, you remember the other Daniel and Sam gave us some stuff to research when we left? Some of it was in Harlan's writing, and Daniel, I mean, I... um, sort of..." It looked to Jack as though Daniel was completely stymied as to how to express just who it was he was talking about.

"Ah, anyway, he, I...gave me the translation and it turned out their written language was basically ideographic. The individual shapes looked fairly simplistic, but actually the conceptualizations were pretty complex. It was interesting stuff, but I knew we couldn't ever go back there so I put it away. Now, because it evolved from an abstract pictographic system of writing and many of those symbols were retained..." Daniel was getting into it nicely, picking up speed so that Jack couldn't find an opening, "...and incorporated into words, they could be taken as either representations of individual objects or as concept-representative ideograms depending on the context of the..."

Jack rolled his eyes and nodded, making a windmilling motion with his hand to hurry Daniel along past the frighteningly gory scientific-linguistic bits. The remainder of the sentence was abruptly bit off and Daniel's cheeks flushed as a flash of irritation passed across his face. Jack immediately regretted the flippancy. "Oh... sorry. Really, go on."

The look on Daniel's face said he didn't think the older man was at all sorry. His voice was tight as he continued. "Okay. Fine. See this symbol... the one here, that includes this cross-hatch here and the diagonal line to the left?" Daniel waved a hand at the wall. Jack had no idea what Daniel thought he had just so explicitly pointed out. "Okay, so if we isolate that combination of markings from the rest of the symbol, that exact combination is the ideogram representing the concept of applying previous knowledge to resolve an unknown, on Harlan's world..."

Hoo Boy. The baffling string of words, rattled off at top speed by an obviously annoyed Daniel, barely made it past Jack's outer auditory canal never mind into his brain. "An integral part of a concept about applying... Daniel, what are you talking about?" Jack almost winced as Daniel's disapproving stare bored into him. Oh, crap. Speaking of applications, he'd sure like to apply for a change of duty right about now.

"Oh for Christ sake." Daniel raised his voice and flapped his arms. "Problem solving, Jack. Something I should have realized you know nothing about. Look..."

Jack tightened his chest muscles against his own rising irritation at the uncharacteristically hurtful insult from Daniel, as the young man impatiently drew a pattern of long and short overlapping lines in the dirt. "This is the written representation of the word for problem-solving in Harlan's native language... and if you look here at the wall, there it is, right there." Daniel impatiently jabbed his finger in the general direction of the complex mass of carvings on the wall. "Now, are you going to help me here or not?"

O'Neill stared longingly at the drawings on the wall for what seemed like forever, praying for some sort of comprehension to miraculously rise up and hit him between the eyes before a concussion-crazed Daniel upped and did it. Then he saw it. On the right hand side, in a compact little grouping... cross-hatching, and just to the left of that, a diagonal line. "There!" He pointed to it, vaguely surprised at just how pleased he felt at his discovery, and for no good reason he was aware of, he leaned closer to it to have a good look.

Then it hit him. God... they already knew all of the altered glyphs on the DHD were on the wall here, and if there were symbols from Harlan's world on this wall, and if Daniel knew what they meant - Jack turned to the symbol Daniel had drawn in the dirt, pointing to it with an excited appreciation he had never thought he'd feel for Daniel's chosen field. His look of self-satisfaction vanished as Jack turned to Daniel and found the young man slumped against the wall, pale and sweaty, his eyes closed and one hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Just as that sight had barely registered in Jack's consciousness, Daniel promptly leaned forward and threw up what used to be four cups of black coffee right on top of the focus of Jack's proud revelation.

Teal'c rummaged through the small stockpile of what was left of their supplies, searching in vain for what he knew he would not find. The only person's pack which might have proved useful simply wasn't here; ninety-seven hours ago, Daniel Jackson had come through the Stargate without so much as a daypack.

The last of the MRE's had been divvied up the previous day, but Teal'c and Rykert had found the treed areas in the valley below to be a haven for small animals. The meat for this day's evening meal was at this very moment being closely examined by Captain Carter for any visible signs of parasitic or otherwise potentially harmful contamination. Their canteens were full; the creek below provided an abundant source of fresh clean water

But food and water were not the issue here. There was no more coffee left, and no medication in the medkits which would be of any use at all. And without Daniel's pack there wasn't the steady supply of caffeine-rich dark chocolate which accompanied SG-1 on most of their missions. Teal'c looked over his shoulder in the general direction of where he had last seen his young friend and Colonel O'Neill bent over Daniel's sketches of Altairian symbols, comparing them to the drawings of the altered DHD and the actual wall carvings. Both men had moved out of Teal'c's line of sight, relocating further around the bend in the inner wall which separated the dwellings from the central clearing where they had stowed their gear and laid out their camp three days earlier.

"You won't find anything useful there, Teal'c." He looked up in surprise to find Captain Carter standing at his side. He had been so intent on his own thoughts that he had not heard her approach. Teal'c mentally berated himself for his carelessness. At Carter's chuckle, he raised his eyebrow.

"Did I sneak up on you? You're losing your edge, Teal'c." She knelt next to him, placing her hand on top of his own, stilling him from his search through the packs. "Teal'c... we need to talk about this. I don't agree with what you're doing. I know you've let up a bit, but I still think you're pushing him too hard."

This was not an unexpected topic of discussion. Teal'c was well aware of Captain Carter's opinion, and in truth, over the last several hours he had begun to recognize the issue was not nearly so clear-cut as he had first believed. The 'sooner-we-get-back-the-sooner-he-gets-medical-attention' argument seemed to be, as O'Neill might say, wearing a bit thin, even to Teal'c. As it became apparent that Daniel Jackson's condition, while seeming to be in slow decline, had not as yet radically deteriorated, Teal'c had been forced to direct his attention toward Carter's list of long term residual effects of concussion that she maintained Daniel might conceivably end up with as a result of the lack of recovery time.

Teal'c was sorely tempted to defend himself, to retort that there was no choice in the matter in any case. He could point out the obvious... Daniel Jackson was well aware he was their primary hope for finding a way back to Earth, and the young man was pushing himself harder than Teal'c ever had or would. But he didn't defend himself. Teal'c knew he had facilitated the overwork through his repeated offers to help and his willingness to ply Daniel with coffee and stir him back to wakefulness when he drifted off in the middle of his work.

"I understand your concern, Captain Carter. I was uncertain if Daniel Jackson's condition would deteriorate rapidly. That is why I felt it was important to hasten the work. Now, however..."

Carter settled down beside him with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. It's okay. I've been worried it's more than just a concussion, too. But whatever it is - a brain contusion, maybe, I don't know - he doesn't seem to be getting much worse neurologically." A derisive laugh escaped her. "Not that I'd be able to recognize it until it's too late, if he did get worse, or that we'd be able to do anything about it even if I did."

"How does such a brain contusion differ from what you call concussion? Is this a condition from which Daniel Jackson can recover?" Teal'c wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, but if there was information he was missing which might help him to better understand their situation, how could he decide what actions were best to take?

"It's kind of one step up, or down I guess, from a concussion. It's when the brain smacks the skull hard enough to actually cause bruising, and I think there's a likelihood of swelling as well. It's not a good thing because it means there's actual damage done, but I don't really know a whole lot about it, Teal'c." She placed a hand on his arm. Her touch only marginally reassured him. "Please don't dwell on that. I can't be sure if that's what happened to Daniel; I'm only guessing. I just know his symptoms seem to be pretty severe for a concussion and I'm concerned about how long they've lasted." A wry smile passed quickly across her lips. "He's not exactly the man he used to be."

Teal'c nodded. Daniel Jackson was quite ill, but Teal'c understood that what Captain Carter referred to was not simply his continued pain, increasing weakness, and intermittent vomiting. The physical illness was accompanied by a change in character which Teal'c found quite disturbing. The normally tolerant and pleasant young man was now more often than not irritable and miserable. He was openly impatient and dismissive of the attempts of others to help him, yet it was clear to everyone, except Daniel Jackson himself, that he was not capable of managing on his own.

"What worries me the most is he still can't seem to keep much of anything down. He's already getting dehydrated, Teal'c." Carter pulled her hands through her hair, looking dejectedly at the ground. "As long as this nausea keeps up, he'll continue getting weaker and everything will be just that much harder. Daniel needed a solid week of rest, and instead he's been dragged up a mountain to spend three days trying to, to do..."

Teal'c could see the words forming on her lips - the impossible - but to her credit she didn't say them, instead evidently choosing to perform the activity he had often heard O'Neill refer to as 'taking the high road', "...whatever it takes to get us out of here. He needs rest, Teal'c, not more stimulants. Not that there's any coffee left anyway."

"Indeed, this is difficult." Acceding to her gentle pat on his arm, Teal'c withdrew his hands from the pack and dipped his head in Carter's direction. "It seems it will take considerable concentration on Daniel Jackson's part to solve the problem, and much time. I no longer know what is best to do."

"I don't know either, Teal'c. I guess we just have to make sure he gets some rest and try to rehydrate him. He's not going to be able to concentrate on anything if we let him get much sicker than he already is." A full canteen was thrust into Teal'c's hands. "Go on. Tell them Rykert and I will have dinner ready in about an hour."

Daniel impatiently shoved away the canteen Teal'c thrust at him. No... not now, not right now. He was close - far too close to tolerate such a distraction. He scuffed his boots on the ground where he sat, the urge to jump up and pace almost overwhelming. But he simply didn't have the physical energy for that.

Ideograms... they were definitely comprised of ideograms; that had been clear to him over two days ago, from the moment he had recalled the writing his clone had given him. And not only were these inscriptions ideographic, every one of the Altairian symbols he'd managed to dredge up from the inner recesses of his mind were incorporated into this alien language. From that, Daniel knew there had to be a direct cultural relationship between the ancient, long gone people of this world and those of Harlan's world. A relationship which probably far surpassed parallel evolution of their written languages due to incidental contact.

Jack had dismissed any discussion of that theory with a curt comment that, as interesting a question it was as to who came from where and went to where, it wasn't very relevant to the here and now. Daniel was certain Jack was so very wrong... and he was so tantalizingly, tenuously perched right on the brink of making a huge leap across the chasm of incomprehension that so tormented him, it was sheer torture to be just not-quite-able to get his mental feet off the ground.

The annoying canteen was withdrawn, but unfortunately it was replaced with a firm hand on his arm and a voice in his ear. "You must drink, Daniel Jackson. I will not allow you to resume your work until you do so." Daniel looked up at Teal'c and with great difficulty bit back the ill-tempered retort which was on his lips. Irritated beyond measure, he yanked the canteen out of Teal'c's hand, took large gulp of water, and with a convulsive movement threw the container to the ground. Water splashed out of open neck, dampening both the dirt and his pantleg. He kicked out at the vile object, and turned back to the wall.

Was this language strictly ideographic, like Harlan's? Or had it evolved? Most of the shapes seemed morphologically more complex than the Altarian writing; maybe it was syllabic and what he was looking at was words made up of individual syllabic symbols? Daniel could feel his excitement building - his stomach spasmed, this time not as a result of nausea but of expectancy. Yes, yes! Now Daniel did jump to his feet... he couldn't do any less than that or he'd explode; he'd spontaneously ignite into a fireball of epic proportions. If the Altarian language was ideographic and this one was actually syllabic... God! The evolution of this language could indicate that Harlan's people were the ones who came here, and if that was so...

That distinction was important. It could make all the difference to interpreting the glyphs.

As his chest seized up with intense anticipation, Daniel thumped his fist against the wall in what was intended as a gesture of triumph. With his weakness, it came off more like an ineffectual swipe borne of frustration. Sure enough, a hand closed on his shoulder and Jack applied gentle pressure, pulling Daniel away from the wall. "Daniel, come on. You can't do this right now; you're too tired and it's too hard. Carter's cooking up a feast..."

Daniel felt his whole body spasm in anger at the inopportune interruption. He jerked away, coming to rest with his back up against the wall, growling in frustration. "No! You don't understand. Don't tell me what I can and can't do! Just let -me -be." Jack's hand reached out for him again, and this time the grip was firmer, more insistent. It was unbearable. Daniel slapped at Jack's arm, and his mouth took off at top speed. "You're such a shit, Jack, you know that? You didn't want me here because you don't think I can handle it, but then you haul me up here and encourage me... and now that I'm so close..." Daniel's voice rose in both volume and pitch, to match his growing agitation. "Jack! I'm so close..."

Daniel flung his arms wide and came perilously near to losing his balance as a wave of dizziness passed over him. "You never listen to me, Jack. The Earth would be a smouldering ball of death right now if it were up to you. Listen to me now, Jack." As Daniel stared intensely at Jack, he saw the look on the other man's face quickly transform from amazement to barely concealed anger, but Daniel didn't care. He twisted away and to his satisfaction the hand was removed. Daniel was fully aware of the probable topic of conversation which quietly started up between Jack and Teal'c as they moved away from him. Give them about five minutes, he figured, and they'd both be coming over to gang up on him, to haul him off to Sam to be mothered to death.

To be mothered... no, smothered... with misguided condescension. Treated like he wasn't a grown man at all, but more like some helpless child, like an infant belonging in a cradle. Like a baby... a baby...

Oh God! God! Dropping to the ground like a stone, Daniel scrabbled around for his pencil and paper, studying the wall for the symbols he hoped would be there somewhere, for the symbols he desperately needed to jog his scattered memory. Baby... cradle...baby... infant... kids... A vivid image of the star formation of Auriga and it's nearby companion Capella filled Daniel's vision. From an Earther's perspective, Capella, the Goat - A raw laugh erupted from his throat; the goat, kids; words, words related to words leading to understanding, and more importantly leading to Auriga, the Charioteer. The chariot, a vessel. What about from an alien perspective? Specifically, from an Altairian point of view? Cognitively, Daniel twisted Auriga on its axis, visualizing it from as many perspectives as his disorganized mind would allow.

He couldn't see them here. Almost frantic now, Daniel rapidly scanned the carvings on the wall. If only he could remember the symbols... he knew he'd seen it, read it; the Altairian documents had included the ideograms for it, he knew it, but he couldn't quite remember... couldn't quite see them. He scrambled over to his left, ignoring the scrape of sharp stone across his knees, completely uncaring that he'd inadvertently trampled and scattered most of the papers - the drawings they had so carefully made up to this point - which had lain at his side; totally disregarding Jack and Teal'c as they hurriedly moved to rescue what they could of the valuable research before Daniel could destroy any more of it in his distraction.

And then he saw it. To hold close. His memory snapped back with a jolt at the sight of the symbol, and with absolute clarity he visualized the second one he had been struggling to find. Two diagonal lines, crossed in their lower quarter by a third curved line - the ideogram for safety. Once he knew what he was looking for, it was absurdly easy to find. Daniel's eyes stung with the precursor of tears as not five inches to the left of the first symbol, he came across the second one. He visualized the proper DHD glyph for Auriga, saw the relationship and possible marriage of the lines in his mind. Hoping against hope, struggling to push an immense fear of failure aside, he turned to retrieve the DHD drawings.

But they weren't there. God, no... Daniel twisted violently, trying to locate the pile of papers he'd been sure were on the ground at his side. He dropped onto all fours. The inevitable tears began to flow, and he heard himself making unintelligible noises of desperation as he crawled to his right to look for them. And then they were there... shoved right underneath his nose. Daniel was only vaguely aware of Jack speaking to him, he didn't understand the words nor care about the hand that held the drawings, nor did he attend to the appearance of small wet spots as his tears dropped onto the piece of paper.

All he cared about, all he really saw, right on the top page, was the hand drawn representation of the altered DHD glyphs containing the exact combination of the Altairian ideograms 'hold close' and 'safety' - shelter - on the top left panel of the inner ring on the DHD.

All he saw... was that they were going home. It was Auriga. And where there was the basis to decipher Auriga, there was means to decipher the others. Overwhelmed with immense relief, Daniel immediately fell victim to an uncontrollable catharsis. He dropped onto his side on the ground, unconsciously curling himself up into a tight little ball, laughing, shivering, and crying all at once.

Within moments, he was asleep.

"Geez... Daniel..." Alarmed by Daniel's agitation, Jack kept hold of the sheaf of papers with one hand and reached out toward Daniel's shoulder with the other. Even before his hand could cover the short distance and make contact, Daniel rapidly shuffled back against the wall and slid to the ground, curling up as he went. Shaking arms wrapped themselves firmly around legs which drew most of the way up to Daniel's chest, and the young man's body shivered noticeably. Jack watched, stupefied, as the inexplicable tears were joined by overt laughter... only for the laughter to almost immediately become virtually indistinguishable from open sobbing.

Teal'c joined Jack at Daniel's side. The Jaffa loudly called Daniel by name and reached out to grasp hold of their friend, clearly driven by the same concern Jack himself felt. Even as alarmingly irrational as Daniel's behavior seemed, Jack recognized the emotional release as a product of total exhaustion and almost unbearable stress, and knew better than to interrupt it. "No, Teal'c. Leave him."

"O'Neill, we should tend to him... this behavior if highly abnormal. He is unwell." The concern evident on Teal'c's face touched Jack; the big Jaffa did not easily replace his normally detached facade with such an open display of emotion. Together, the two men looked down at their friend, at the tightly closed eyes, the bruised face twisted in distress. Teal'c modified his movement, reaching out to bring his fingers to within a hairsbreadth of Daniel's cheek.

Jack changed the direction of travel of his own hand, placing it on Teal'c's arm rather than on Daniel's shoulder. "No. Teal'c, it's all right. He needs this; I have no clue just what exactly brought it on right now, but I know it's important. He's just... overwrought..."

"Daniel Jackson is an intelligent and passionate man. He is also usually very resilient."

Jack didn't understand why Teal'c felt it necessary to point out the most obvious of Daniel's qualities right now. He wondered if perhaps the terse statement was meant more as a negative commentary on the situation than an optimistic view of Daniel's recuperative abilities. Puzzled, he took the easy way out and nodded, hoping he looked more insightful and confident than he felt. Daniel appeared to be settling; the tremours had lessened and the all but hysterical mixture of laughing and sobbing was performed more or less silently. Placing the papers on the ground, Jack covered his eyes with one hand and settled back onto his haunches. He knew Daniel was exhausted, yes, and sick... but this...

Jack and Teal'c had watched as Daniel had become increasingly more active in his search for the answers which the young man clearly thought were looming. Jack had witnessed before, in the past, the outward signs and results of whatever mysterious process of revelation Daniel's brilliant mind underwent when he was immersed in solving a problem. He knew he would never even come close to understanding just how that worked. All he'd been able to do so far was learn to recognize the signs that it - that something - was happening, and stand back well out of the way. So he and Teal'c had sat quietly, watching, on guard for any sign that Daniel might need them. Maybe this time, though, that had been a mistake.

"O'Neill. Daniel Jackson is sleeping."

Jack removed his hand and took a look. Daniel was fast asleep, laying in roughly the same position as before with his knees drawn up to his chest, but his arms had fallen from around his body and his face had relaxed, slackening into an almost vacant expression. Jack looked from Daniel to the DHD drawings and wished he knew for certain just what Daniel had experienced which had driven him past the point of being able to cope, to the point of emotional and physical collapse. He figured, though, whatever it was had to be some pretty bad news.

When Daniel had started scrambling around looking for the drawings Jack and Teal'c had rescued, Jack had felt a bright flare of hope and had actually looked forward to the expected non-stop chatter of discovery. But no sooner had he put the drawings under Daniel's nose, trying to encourage his friend to slow down, to take it easy, had Daniel clamped his eyes tightly shut, curled himself up, and lost it completely. There was only one conclusion Jack could draw from that.

Jack became aware that Teal'c was looking at him. "What?"

"I expect we should make ourselves comfortable on this planet." Teal'c's usual impassive mask was back in place.

"Yeah. I guess." Confirmation; Teal'c was thinking just what he'd been thinking. Jack rose to his feet and looked down with regret at his sleeping friend. "Damn. We should go back to the Stargate. Move our camp there. Maybe Hammond will eventually send another MALP through... it looks like that's our best hope now."

"Oh God." At the shaky voice, Jack looked up to see Carter and Rykert standing at the bend in the wall. Carter's eyes were huge and shiny. Rykert shuffled his feet and stared steadfastly at the ground. As Teal'c rose from his crouch beside Daniel to stand at Jack's side, Carter brought her hand up to her face and stifled something that sounded like it might have been the beginnings of a sob. Jack looked at her with raised eyebrows, feeling both confused and mildly irritated. What was her problem? Didn't they have enough to deal with as it was?

"Problem, Carter?" His tone was harsher than he'd intended.

Her eyes widened further and she practically stuffed her whole fist into her mouth. Rykert's head jerked up as though he'd just stuck his finger in a light socket.

Teal'c caught on before Jack could even begin to try to make sense of their behavior. "It is all right, Captain Carter. Daniel Jackson is merely asleep."

Ohhh. Jack felt mildly foolish. He supposed that given his last statement about the MALP being their best hope and what with Daniel laying there in a motionless heap at their feet, her reaction shouldn't have confused him.

"Rykert, go fetch a blanket for him, will 'ya. And hurry it up." There. That was better. Things were back on track now.

Sam watched Daniel and bit her lip, unsure of just where they stood, and of whether to be glad or sad the Colonel's interpretation of Daniel's behavior had been wrong. Or... had it?

So far, all Sam saw was rudimentary headway, one possible glyph. And even that seemed a stretch. When Daniel had awoken he'd sworn up and down he knew with all his being he'd identified Auriga, but Sam hadn't been able to follow his erratic and impatient ramblings about shelters and babies. Then, as the dim light of dusk faded and true darkness fell, Daniel had taken roost right next to the fire. In an effort to control him by default, O'Neill had forbidden him to use any of the flashlights, citing the unrenewable nature of batteries. They had all tried to convince Daniel the day was done, that enough of the job was done so the rest could wait until the next morning... and that Daniel himself was all done in. He had steadfastly ignored them, gathering up all the papers and his pencil and settling as close to the light of the fire as he could without singing his eyebrows.

And he hadn't eaten anything. Sam knew she couldn't do anything about Daniel's insistence on working, but maybe she could do something about the other part. She gathered up the meat and root vegetables they had put aside for him while he slept and carefully placed them on a nearby rock. Moving over to the stack of supplies, she rummaged around noisily - there was no way she was going to approach Daniel unannounced, not while he was caught up so intently in whatever it was he was doing. A frontal attack with the plate of food would never work - he'd go for her head instead of the meal, for certain - so she'd need to employ a different strategy. Her concerted effort to be as subtly distracting as possible were rewarded by the Colonel looking up from where he lay a few feet back of the fire, and grumpily telling her in no uncertain terms to knock it off or he'd have her replace Teal'c and Rykert on the outside watch... all by herself. She was delighted.

Daniel raised his head and looked toward her. Seizing the moment, Sam moved over to him. "Daniel... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to distract you." Like hell.

"Are you going to stop now that you have?"

Sam winced. "I said I was sorry." Maybe a diversion hadn't been such a hot idea after all.

"Never mind." He dropped his head again, peering intently at his notes in the undulating light.

Sam leaned forward to look over his shoulder. Given the erratic firelight and the dark shadows which fell across the page, it was all but impossible to read what was written there. Whatever work Daniel was doing, it was pretty obvious the crux of it had to be concentrated elsewhere.

Daniel twitched his head slightly and sighed. "Sam." He turned and looked directly into her eyes. "You're hovering. If you have something to say, just say it."

Okay, an invitation. She could work with that. "Well, then, okay. I'd like you to put that stuff aside. Just for a little bit." Sam was aware of O'Neill quietly raising himself into a sitting position behind them as she softly coaxed, "Pretty much the only thing you've had all day is water. You should eat something solid, Daniel."

Not taking his gaze off her face, his movements slow and precise, Daniel shuffled the papers into a neat pile in his lap and placed his pencil on the ground next to him. His words were equally as precise, spoken in a carefully controlled, measured tone of voice. "You know, it's really annoying when you do that. I can decide for myself if I'm hungry or not." He turned his head slightly further to the right while still keeping his eyes fixed on her face. "You can lay back down, Jack. This is a private conversation." The head swiveled back again. "I'm fine, Sam. I promise I'll eat like a horse when we get home. But right now I need to do this, so we can go home."

Light from the fire flickered irregularly across Daniel's face, deepening the contrast between the bruising and the pale skin, intensifying the dark shadows beneath his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks. Sam studied his face, and received a faintly belligerent look in return. Her heart told her this was not the real Daniel she was looking at; this was a shell, a mask... but covering up, what? What was with him?

Sam was no physician, but she doubted it was reasonable to attribute his continuing physical symptoms - the ongoing headache, the nausea and dizziness - and his erratic behavior and emotional lability to the after-effects of concussion. He'd been unconscious for such a very long time and he was still so sick. It had to be something worse. Fear for him rose within her but she pushed it away, deciding instead to concentrate on the certainties. He needed to take a break. He needed real food, more sleep. Whether he believed it or not, Sam knew he needed her. She was reluctant to start an argument, though, and Daniel's attitude left no doubt that to further encourage him to eat would result in just that. So, maybe doing something about the food and water part wasn't going to be possible right away. As to the sleep part... perhaps, if he wasn't allowed to fall back into that intense state of whatever-it-was which drove him mercilessly, perhaps if she could support him in some way other than feeding him, maybe he'd be able to relax a bit.

"Okay. Okay, Daniel. You're not hungry. So, tell me about what you're doing here, then. Maybe I can help." Sam sidled over close to him, sat cross-legged beside him, her knee to coming to rest on top of the notes on his lap where they overlapped his thigh. Maybe a quiet chat, a chance for him to explain himself, to get some of what was consuming him out into the open - hopefully where she could control and direct the destructive energy he was devoting to it - would be a restful substitute for the sleep he refused to seek.

He pulled his leg away from hers. "Well, I'm... I'm relating the Altairian ideograms I can remember to the DHD symbols. So we can go home." He looked at her as if she had just asked him if he was still breathing. "I told you that before. I explained it before."

"Well, you said something about the Auriga glyph being comprised of two of the Altairian symbols that meant shelter..."

"Yes."

"...and something about Auriga being symbolized by a baby..."

"No! That, that's not what I said... well, I did say babies, but I don't actually remember if I said it like that, but if I did, it wasn't what I meant... No, no, I wouldn't have said that because that's wrong. I said that Auriga on Earth was the symbol of the Charioteer, and it's adjacent to The Goat..."

"Capella." Sam supplied. "And the lower star cluster that's her kids."

"Yes! And the chariot could be considered to be a vessel." The look on Daniel's face was both triumphant and oddly child-like. Under any other circumstances, it would have been enchanting. "You see? It's Auriga."

Sam heard a faint strangled noise come from the man behind them, and felt herself in full sympathy with the Colonel. She didn't have a clue what Daniel was talking about either. She worriedly wondered if she should add dementia to her list of concerns about him. She looked up to see him staring at her, his face darkening considerably.

"You think I'm crazy."

How perceptive - Sam struggled to force the worry from her expression. "No, of course not. I just don't fully understand why you think those ideograms are Auriga, Daniel. Maybe if you could slow down and explain it right from the beginning?" Yeah, maybe then she could decide how much of this was true progress and how much was the product of stress and illness. It was kind of important they figure that bit out.

"But I just did. You just don't believe me."

A voice from behind them rescued her. "Daniel, you know I can be really dense sometimes, okay..." Colonel O'Neill's tone was even and pleasant. "Explain it to me. Use tiny little words in tiny little sentences that go in tiny little steps right from the start to the end."

Daniel swiveled around and peered into the cavern behind them. Sam knew he couldn't see the Colonel's face in the dim light, and it was clear he was having trouble deciding if the words were facetious or not. Seeming to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, albeit reluctantly, Daniel adjusted his position and looked into the fire as he spoke, his voice soft and the words coming out in that same slow measured cadence as earlier.

"Fine. Tiny little words. On Earth, we have labels for the glyphs that are on the Stargate. Each glyph represents a star formation, and there's a story associated with each label for each glyph. The labels and stories are embellishments - in littler words, that's like elaborating on something, Jack - of what the builders of the Stargate somehow conveyed to our ancestors, about what the formations look like. Like Serpent's Caput. We've been indoctrinated into visualizing... oh, sorry, let me dummy that down a bit... conditioned into seeing the placement of those stars as looking like the head of a serpent, with a forked tongue sticking out. Caput means head, in Latin."

Jack grunted. Daniel shook his head slightly and continued. "I'll assume that means you're listening and not snoring. The foundations for how we visually interpret the stars had to have been laid, courtesy of the Stargate builders, through very early legend and mythology..." Daniel's voice softened and Sam heard the Colonel shifting closer to them in order to hear him, "...and if Earth historians think they know differently, well, they're wrong. The very existence and age of the symbols on the Stargate proves that."

He paused, staring at the ground, and for a moment Sam was uncertain if he had anything else to say. A restless shift from behind them seemed to wake Daniel up to their presence, and he continued. "Auriga is sometimes called The Charioteer. When I realized that the written morphology of the symbols on the DHD and the walls here were visually identical to the written language from Altair, I started looking for conceptual similarities."

Daniel glanced over at Sam where she sat beside him. As the firelight licked at his face, she was shocked to see tears on his cheeks. He quickly looked away and blurted out, "You aren't really interested in any of this. I found them, okay? The chariot could be considered a vessel, and because Auriga is also sometimes thought of as carrying the children of The Goat... kids, babies... then it's perfectly reasonable to embellish Auriga as being something akin to a cradle. Or, if you use it as a predicate, 'to cradle'. It's also perfectly reasonable to believe the original builders of the Stargates didn't just foster Earth's mythology, so a sensible next step would be to look for Altairian symbols which conceptualize that particular elaboration."

Daniel paused. He brought his knees up and folded his arms across them, dropping his head onto his forearms. "And I found them."

"Shelter."

"Yes, Jack. In one tiny little word. Shelter."

Sam thought she was beginning to catch on. She felt her heart speed up and a familiar thrill of impending discovery raced through her. "Wait a minute... you're saying that the combination of the two individual Altairian ideograms..."

"Yes. The Altairian symbols for 'hold close', and the one meaning 'safety'. Together they read as 'shelter', or, 'to shelter'." Daniel's voice became muffled as he turned his face away from her, burying his head further into his arms. "I don't see why I have to justify myself to you."

Sam suppressed a flash of irritation at his petulance. She was awfully tired of feeling like she had tiptoe around everything. "We're just trying to understand it, Daniel. You're not exactly in peak condition, and it's our lives at stake here too." The moment the ill-conceived words left her mouth, Sam wished she could have them back. Daniel's head snapped up and he stared at her in what she would have interpreted as anger, except for the tears that stained his cheeks.

"RightFineWhatever-you-say." The words poured out at maximum velocity and intensity. Sam could almost feel them hit her as he launched the rest of it directly at her. "Chariot plus children is a visual representation of holding or cradling something valuable and in Altairian writing the symbols for 'hold close' plus 'safety' combine to mean shelter, and that exact combination is on the altered DHD and the Stargate ring... and it just so happens Samantha that perfectly incorporated into that exact combination is our original glyph for Auriga. It's even located in the usual place on the inner ring."

Daniel abruptly slid on his rear to several feet away, turned his back to her and waved one hand in her general direction. "I'm not crazy."

Sam couldn't move. For a moment, she couldn't even breathe. Auriga. He'd actually deciphered Auriga. Oh, God. If that was so, if he'd done that one...

"We know you're not crazy, Daniel. Carter..." She heard scuffling as the Colonel changed his position. The noises grew louder and then he was there next to her. "So. What he said... what exactly did all that mean?"

"He... he said he knew how to decipher the changes, Sir." God. She'd been so sure it was impossible. Oh, Daniel.

"Well, okay, that's good. So... let's go home."

The Colonel's obvious attempt at levity almost brought a smile to Sam's lips. Almost, but not quite. There was something - She looked at Daniel's back, at the tension there which was discernible even in the low, flickering light. Daniel's approach to the glyphs was predicated upon theory - that the gate builders originated and ported visual interpretations for the glyphs, regardless of the actual visible constellations from different areas of the galaxy. It was a workable theory; it would explain a lot about the Stargate. Press-here-to-go-there, no matter what alien night sky one was looking at. But they were about to pin all their hopes on it's basic truth. Sam was a born scientist, not only trained but actually hard-wired to seek out the truths in theories and follow the paths of logic and reason. She knew he was likely right about Auriga - it's incorporation into the new symbol and location on the DHD were unlikely to be mere coincidence - but could they automatically assume that meant the rest of them were possible? Had Daniel simply made that assumption, a huge leap without a tether in sight, or had he already worked it through?

"In a minute, Sir. I just want to talk to Daniel for a minute before we leave."

Her own attempt to lighten the mood was met with a chuckle from O'Neill, but if anything, Daniel's shoulder's tightened further. Sam suspected he knew pretty much what she was going to say. She stared into the fire, gathering her thoughts. Even as touchy as she knew Daniel was right then, this was something which had to be followed through to it's logical conclusion. It was important she ask what she had to ask without allowing any hint of judgment to creep in. There was no room for irrational resentment in this discussion.

"Daniel, you said before that we couldn't really know what an alien race's visual interpretations of the star formations might be. Now, you've done something incredible here, really incredible. But I have a question. You've used our Earth perspective to decipher Auriga, and I'm sure you're right about that one, but who's to say that applies to all of them? Even if the language is Altairian for all of them? I mean, I guess what I'm trying to say is that the meanings associated with other star formations could be so far from our frame of reference that we'd never..."

O'Neill's sudden strong grip on her shoulder stopped her. "Not right now, Carter." He gave her shoulder a rough shove, and she looked up from the fire to see that Daniel had leaned far forward, dropping his chin to his chest and placing both his hands on the back of his head. He remained mostly turned away from her, limiting her view to his hunched back and his hands, which dug into and twisted his long hair. Coarse tremours ran across his back and shoulders, evincing unbearable tension. It was an alarming sight. Immediately, Sam knew what she had done. She knew that from Daniel's point of view, to someone in Daniel's state of mind, it probably seemed that she had just tried to negate everything he had done.

She hadn't meant to do that. Had she? She was a scientist. He was a scientist. She understood now what she would have translated earlier as anger, except for the inexplicable tears, was more likely bitter disappointment at not receiving the support he so desperately needed... from her. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. She had to fix this. She clambered on all fours closer to Daniel, intending to fix it.

But the damage had been done, cracks turned into full fledged fissures unable to withstand the immense pressure from within. At the sound of Sam coming up beside him, the bomb that was Daniel went off. O'Neill jumped forward to intervene but he got there a second too late, as Daniel whirled around and violently pushed out at her. He caught her solidly on her upper chest and she was propelled back to land in a sprawled heap, narrowly missing the edge of the fire. Her own exclamation of surprise and pain was joined by one of dismay from the Colonel.

"Daniel!" O'Neill grabbed the young man by the shoulder and pulled him away. Daniel fell back onto his rear and immediately scrambled to right himself, pushing O'Neill's hands away.

"Leave me alone." Daniel moved backward, away from both of them.

Oh, so stupid. She'd known how close to the edge he was. "Daniel, it's my fault. I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything..."

"Right." Acid. If Sam could have touched the word, it would have burned her hand.

Sam motioned for the Colonel to move away. Instead, though, he crouched down in front of Daniel. "Danny, she's just worried about you. And you know her; she's always trying to find the downside. I swear, if it weren't for Carter we'd all never know just how upside we really are."

Encouraged that the Colonel was within striking range and still in one piece, Sam tried again. "We can talk about this, Daniel. We've always been able to talk to each other." She shifted forward slightly, leaning closer. "Sir? Maybe you could give us some privacy?"

"Yeah, okay, maybe that's a good idea." O'Neill stood and moved off. "I'll just go play with Teal'c and Rykert out there." He started to step back toward Daniel, but evidently thought better of it. "I'm trusting you two to share nice, now."

She knew just who he was talking to. She'd do her best not to provoke Daniel again, and maybe - just maybe - they could re-establish enough trust to work this out. Because chances were they'd never get off this planet if they couldn't work together at it. "Sure, Sir. Just don't fall off any cliffs in the dark."

His voice came from farther away. "Ha, Carter. I come from a long line of cliffhangers. I'll be back soon. Be sure to keep the fire alive."

Moments passed before Daniel's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. "I didn't hear you asking, but I don't particularly feel like talking to you."

"I think we need to talk, Daniel. I feel like we're... like we're fighting against each other. So much has happened, not just here, but over the last few weeks. We worked our way through all that, and we need to be able to work together here, too."

Daniel's voice was cold, his tone openly accusatory. "You don't want to work together."

Sam found herself feeling more than just a little unnerved; this wasn't the Daniel she was used to talking with. She doubted Daniel would ever have said that, especially in that way, if he was really himself. Before she could even frame a reply, Daniel leaned forward, pinning her with his eyes.

"You just want me to do what you say. What you think I should do. Because you don't trust me to make my own decisions. You don't trust me to know how to go about this."

Her nervousness increased, and not only because she was unaccustomed to hearing that tone from Daniel. When it came right down to it, he was right, but with one proviso... it wasn't a matter of trust; it was a matter of fitness.

"No. That's not true. This has nothing to do with trust, Daniel. You are one of the most trustworthy people I've ever known."

His answer was a surprise. An unpleasant one. There was a pause, a faint noise as he shifted, and then he responded, "Ah, but we aren't talking about me, Sam. It isn't about me, it's about you. We're talking about you." There were more noises as he unexpectedly moved closer, close enough so she could make out his face in the dim light from the nearby fire. She didn't like what she saw. "It's you who doesn't trust me, Sam. It's you who's the problem."

Oh, cripes. Just what planet was he on? This was just... "But it is about you, Daniel. You're not well. You've been hurt, you're sick, and I know the decisions you're making are hurting you even worse. God. Look at yourself. You haven't eaten more than a couple of bites of anything in over twenty-four hours, and before that you lost pretty much everything you did try to eat. You're weak and dehydrated, you've got headaches, you're still nauseated... and your mood is so erratic we don't feel like we can even come near you. You aren't even giving yourself a chance to..."

Daniel interrupted her with an abrupt sweep of his arm through the air between them. "Right. Sure. You want to catalogue all the things you think are wrong with me? Fine. I don't remember it, but I hit my head. I puke up all the time and I can hardly stand up long enough to piss against the wall. I can't take care of myself. And I'm being too impulsive and emotional. Now what about the rest of it? What about that you think I have an overactive imagination? That I'm naïve? What about that you - that all of you - think I'm so blind that I don't see you patronizing me all the time. There goes Danny, spouting off more nonsense, running off again on some worthless quest."

The verbal attack was vehement and unexpected. Sam couldn't fathom that Daniel could possibly believe what he was saying. She was so stunned it was even an effort to come up with a simple denial. "We don't think that. You can't really believe that."

Daniel laughed; an unpleasant sound that turned into a choked cry even as it came out. He put one hand up to his forehead and pointed at her with the other. "There you go. Telling me what I should believe. God. This headache. What it boils down to, Sam, is that it is a matter of trust. You've never had any real faith in me... that's one reason why you always feel like you have to take care of me, to smother me."

Sam stared at him, deeply disturbed. To smother him? She couldn't believe he could truly feel that way about their relationship. She couldn't even begin to figure out how to respond to that. The conversation was over. She moved to leave but he scrambled forward and reached out, caught her by the arm. "Daniel... let go."

"It was you wanted to talk, Sam."

"This isn't talking, Daniel."

"Why? Why? Why isn't it? Because, because you don't like what you're hearing? It's only talking if it goes the way you want? Just like my solution to the DHD is only right so long as you understand how it's done? If it gets the Carter seal of approval? You don't trust me. You've never trusted me."

"I didn't mean to imply that your solution..."

"Yes. Yes, you did. Jack is right, Sam. You turn things around and tear them apart until you find where you think they don't work. That's you... that's what you do. And that's okay if the things belong to you or if you're invited." Daniel leaned forward even further and poked her in the shoulder. "But this belongs to me. And I never invited you. I don't need you. Don't take out all your insecurities on me."

The sharp tone of voice, the accusations of lack of faith, her own building sense of hurt... none of these provocations came even close to doing the damage done by those last words. Sam wasn't exactly certain what he meant, but this was different than what had come before. Up until this, Sam had accepted Daniel's angry words as primarily the product of disappointment in her, of his being ill, and of the tremendous pressure he had placed upon himself. She knew, at the same time, there had to be an element of truth in there... but more as a projection of his own doubts about himself than a true comment on her. But this - this was different, too hard.

"All my insecurities?" She forcefully reminded herself this probably wasn't really Daniel but a head injury speaking and worked to keep the hurt and rising anger out of her voice, but knew she hadn't succeeded. Daniel just sat there, looking at her. "What insecurities would those be, Daniel?"

Sam waited, but he didn't answer. He ducked his head for a moment, and with that familiar and quintessentially-modest Daniel-gesture her heart softened... but when he brought his head back up, his face was a mask of indifference. He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Whatever? What do you mean, whatever? This just goes to show that I'm right, Daniel. You can't be yourself... you've got to be all screwed up, or else how could you be so hurtful. I've always had faith in you, tried to support you..."

Daniel let out a derisive laugh. "Support me, Sam? Oh, yeah, that's just fine. Like you trusted and supported me so much that you stood there and watched Jack make me destroy the Hammer. You shouldn't need to test faith you already believe in, Captain Carter. And just how many days did it take for you guys to agree to try the address I got in the alternate reality? Even then, you only agreed to try it because Jack did. And, like on Cartago? Like you supported me there? You want to know what insecurities? How about the Little Miss Negative one that makes you pull everything apart because you never learned to have faith? How about the one that makes you give me pitying glances as you scurry along behind whoever's giving the order of the day? That's you all over, isn't it? Follow the leader and be damned what's left behind."

Oh, God. He'd hit a nerve, and she felt her whole body jerk in response. She couldn't listen to this, couldn't do this. He was so wrong, he had to be wrong. "Daniel, that's not fair and you know it! This is the military..."

"Oh, yeah, it sure is. G.I. Jane in action... the perfect little soldier. Well you know what? The hell with the military! The bottom line is you cared more about the possibility of being court-martialed than you did about believing in me!"

"You self-centered son of a bitch! Daniel Jackson, world expert in tunnel vision... you couldn't see another point of view if it smacked you right between the eyes. Talk about insecure. You call me insecure? Look at you, listen to yourself! Poor me, nobody listens to me, nobody trusts me - How dare you put your lack of faith in yourself on me! Whether you see it or not, I'm doing what I can for you. I've been there for you, Daniel..."

"You've been there for me! How? By bringing me food when I don't want to eat? By patting me on the arm every time you walk by, like I'm some pet dog you want to train to follow you around? You've been there all right... trying to stop me from working, telling me in thousand different ways that you think I can't do it! Like you're there for me right now... like you believe in me right now, that I can do the glyphs and can get us home..."

Her mind screamed at her. He was wrong about her, this was crazy. "Okay, fine! So just maybe it's true, maybe I don't believe that! Why should I? You're head-injured Daniel, you're sick - you're not mentally competent! I don't think - "

Oh God. Sam bit off the rest of it, shocked she had actually said it aloud. To Daniel. She swallowed hard, and only upon recognizing her throat hurt did she realize they had been openly yelling at each other.

Daniel abruptly turned away from her and scuttled into the shadows.

Go on to part five

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