True to Form

by Jb

part six, of nine

Daniel lay on his stomach, his cheek to the ground and his head turned away from his friends, struggling to catch his breath and regain some control over his still trembling body. Sam's life depended on his cooperation but when Panter had turned away, Daniel really thought he could do it. The gun was right there, not five feet away... and then all their lives were put into the balance because of that decision; everything had depended on him. And he had blown it. It looked like Panter had decided they weren't worth the effort; he'd let them live. But for what? Unwilling to even try to dredge up and expend the energy required to lift his head and spit out the mixture of bile, blood, and saliva which threatened to choke him, Daniel swallowed it and immediately his gut rebelled. He gagged it back down. God... this really sucked.

He heard the gate shut down. With a thankful sigh and a huge effort he turned his head and, resting his forehead on the ground, opened his mouth to let the reflux of fluid drain out down his chin and into the dirt. Yeah. This really sucked, all right. In addition to the problems which had plagued him for days, now his whole body tingled painfully and his chest... there was definitely something wrong there. This really sucked big time. Majorly, big time. He suddenly, incongruously, found himself giggling. Majorly sucked, as in Major Panter, Majorly Sucked Big Time. This was all just too much. He was so bloody tired. He giggled again. Bloody Majorly Sucked Big Time. Daniel was aware he was in danger of losing it completely, but he didn't care. The giggle swelled.

He had just struggled for three days through the most massive headache he'd ever had in his entire life and one big long marathon bout of nausea, to successfully complete the linguistics challenge of a lifetime... and for what? So Mr. Bloody Majorly Sucked Big Time could go home and tell Hammond that the rest of them were dead, killed off by an irate army of Jaffa.

What a fucking joke. A Majorly Sucked Big Time Fucking Joke. The giggle turned into laughter... and as the whatever-it-was-that-had-happened in his chest majorly-big-time-protested, the laughter was joined by tears. As it turned out, there wasn't much time for wallowing, though.

"Daniel... hang on for just one minute, buddy. Just one more; you can do it. Come on over here and untie us." Jack. Loud. Overly encouraging.

"Daniel Jackson. We require your assistance." Teal'c.

The giggle briefly renewed itself. Of course it was Teal'c. Who else would say that?

"Daniel? Are you okay?" Sam, her voice shaking.

Oh God... another stupid statement. Yeah, fine, just peachy - How are you? This time there was no giggle.

For as long as possible, Daniel tried to ignore them. One part of him understood they had to be pretty uncomfortable laying there all trussed up, and he also realized that they had to know he'd just gone a tad bit hysterical here. It was likely they were just as concerned for him as for themselves. But there was another part of him - the disturbing part that had surfaced a few days ago and now, with this terrible turn of events, felt like it was making itself right at home, settling in for the duration - that really couldn't give a shit about what they thought or felt.

"Danny... for crying out loud, answer us..."

Why? What was the rush? There really wasn't anywhere to go, anyway. After he'd tried so hard, done his best... oh, shit. Reluctantly, Daniel raised himself onto his forearms, spitting to get rid of the blood which just kept seeping from the bruised and torn area in his mouth. He'd worked so hard - As Daniel stared at the disgusting glob of sputum soaking into the dirt, he felt his confused mass of emotions morph into white-hot anger. They hadn't believed in him. Jack hadn't even wanted him to be here, to try this. That old wimpy part of him said that was because Jack cared, had wanted to keep him safe, but Daniel pushed it aside. He preferred to be angry than confused just then. Let's see... what else was there he could get mad about? Ah, Teal'c. Teal'c had patronized him to the point of being insipid, and Sam... Sam... Daniel shoved her name aside.

"Daniel Jackson. Are you able to rise?"

Rise? Oh, yeah, sure, Teal'c. Rise to the occasion... don't I always?

"Come on, Daniel. This isn't exactly the way I planned on spending my old age..."

Hell, even he himself hadn't held out any solid hope, at least not until he'd remembered about Altair. He'd lucked out, that's all. Simply lucked out. Daniel snorted. The only person who had really lucked out, the only one who had thought even for a red hot minute that Daniel could solve this, was now back at the SGC no doubt being fussed over in the infirmary and looking forward to a nice long hot shower. Daniel allowed his head to sink back down into the dirt. What he'd give for a long hot shower right about now.

"Daniel, it's okay. Don't try to move. We're okay... you just stay there." There were scraping noises. "Just hold on a second, just let me - " Sam's voice was uneven.

"Carter..."

"With respect - Shut up, Sir." There were more noises; soft indistinguishable words, then scraping and shuffling and grunting. "Daniel, I'm coming over to you. I'm coming. Hang on, okay? It'll be all right. I'm on my way."

Whatever it was that had given in his chest was like a stab of pleasure compared to the heart-rending eruption Daniel suddenly felt. Oh, Sam. He couldn't take it any more, it was over, he was done. Scared, so scared. He put his face in his hands. Oh shit, oh God. Sam... Sam please help, so tired so very very... sorry, so so sorry...

He was conscious, moving around a little, they could see that. He'd been giggling... and he wasn't responding, apparently not even making the effort to get up and help them. It wasn't hard to tell the Colonel was about to become more than just a little insistent. He obviously thought that was a form of encouragement, a way to be helpful.

"Daniel... it's okay. Don't try to move. We're okay... you just stay there." Sam rolled over and fought to maneuver onto her knees. She wobbled slightly, finding it difficult to keep her balance with her hands tied behind her back. "Just hold on a second, just let me - "

"Carter..." She looked over to the Colonel. He seemed impatient.

"With respect - Shut up, Sir." To Sam's amazement, he did. O'Neill gave her a tight-lipped look and squirmed around to glance back toward Daniel, but he kept his mouth shut. What sure looked to Sam like uncertainty flooded his face. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Sir... he can't, okay? I think he's hit his limit." She tried to shuffle forward on her knees, but the ropes on her ankles were too tight for that.

"Daniel, I'm coming over to you. I'm coming. Hang on, okay? It'll be all right. I'm on my way."

"Try it on by wriggling forward on your side. I'll head over to Teal'c; we can work on these ropes."

Sam nodded gratefully at O'Neill and dropped forward onto her side, one shoulder against the ground. That was better... it wasn't easy, and she knew she'd end up with bruised shoulders and hips for certain, but she'd get there. Snaking forward, she began to make her way over to where Daniel still lay on his stomach, sparing one quick glance behind her to see the Colonel and Teal'c moving closer to one another.

It didn't take her long to cover most of the distance between them. Daniel looked up when she was about six feet away. "Wait. You'll hurt yourself." The words were indistinct. He raised himself up onto his knees, and wobbled there momentarily before getting to his feet. He looked awful, and not just because of his obvious emotional state and visible physical injuries. Sam thought there was something else there, something beyond what she already knew about - the split lip and lacerations, the headaches and nausea. She pasted an encouraging smile on her face and balanced on her knees, waiting for him.

Daniel knelt beside her, and just before he ducked his head and reached around behind her Sam caught and held his eyes with her own for a split second. Something terrible lurked there. He fumbled with the tight knot and then dropped his hands. "I... it's... the knot's really tight. He took my knife." He raised his hands to his face, turned his head, and spat out a bit of blood.

"That's okay. We'll find something else." She struggled up off the ground, raising herself onto her knees to make it easier for him.

He returned his hands to her wrists, and she felt him working at the knot. "There is... nothing... else." Sam's arms were pulled backward as Daniel yanked on the ropes in frustration. As he leaned against her, she heard a faint grunt and felt the uneven vibrations of his chest against her arm.

"Daniel?" Sam twisted to get a look at his face but he shifted his position, dropping from his knees to sit on the ground further behind her. She settled back onto her heels and Daniel leaned forward, resting his head on the back of her shoulder. She could hear his breathing - short, pained gasps - and felt the tremors which ran through him. "Daniel... he hurt you, didn't he? Let me see you."

"Sam... I..." Daniel's voice was muffled as he spoke into her jacket. "I'm all right. Just forget it."

He straightened up and she felt him go back to work on the knot again. The tension eased enough so she knew that he had gotten it undone, but he didn't release the ropes. Sam flexed her wrists intending to pull her arms apart, but she felt his hands cover her own and she stopped. His hands were cold. She waited.

"Sam, look... I... I didn't mean any of it."

Her heart broke at the distress in his voice. "Oh, Daniel."

"I think... there's something wrong with me, Sam. With, my head, like you... I think you were right." He backed off, away from her. "I'm... I'm not..." The words turned into a grunt, and he coughed.

Sam twisted her arms, pulling them out from the grip of the loose ropes. The coughing degenerated into gagging, and she heard him spit again. She turned and reached for him, the rope dangling from one wrist as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "No, Daniel. Oh, God, I am so sorry. Your head is okay, please, don't worry about that." He closed his eyes, shook his head, and she gripped him tighter. "You're just sick, Daniel, you need some rest, that's all. I was wrong, I had no right to say what I did."

Daniel shook his head again and raised his hands to cover his eyes. He licked his lips and winced as his tongue passed over the sore spot. "No. You, I... Oh, hell. Never mind. You get the rest of these ropes off. I'll... I'll go get Jack and Teal'c free."

Daniel got to his feet, wrapping one arm around his chest, and would have staggered off had it not been for the restraining hand Sam placed on his thigh. "No... I can get them in a minute. Daniel, what's wrong with your chest?" He simply shook his head again, and she glared at him.

"I think it's a cracked rib or something." He turned to leave. "It'll be fine."

She quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, almost overbalancing with the effort. "Does it hurt to breathe?" He didn't answer, but the look on his face was enough. More than enough. Oh God, not this too. "Wait... Daniel, please..."

Fear for him, for all of them, flowed through her. If he didn't trust her enough to tell her what was wrong, how could she help? It was past time to admit her own culpability in all that had happened between them. To admit it to herself, as well as to him. "I was wrong before. I was wrong about the symbols, I was wrong to treat you the way I did, I was wrong about you. God, Daniel..." Her voice cracked as she fought to control herself. It wouldn't help either of them if she gave in to the overwhelming urge to cry right now. She'd do that after they were out of this mess, later, back home... if there was a later-back-home. "I was worried, and I was overbearing. Look, I was wrong to say what I did. It was cruel."

Sam looked at him, noticing the way he held himself, the way he refused to meet her eyes. His entire stance screamed of an internal battle going on, the need to believe and find some way to trust warring with exhaustion, fear, and pain. "Daniel, don't end up punishing yourself for something I did. Some of the things you said, well, I think you did mean them at the time, and that's okay because there is some truth in it. But we have to get past that. You can't go on like this. You're sick, and now you can hardly breathe. You're hurt, Daniel. Please, we need to take care of it. I don't want... God, I don't want to lose you because we can't back up."

He looked at her briefly with a tortured expression on his face which plainly said he couldn't handle this right then, and dropped his gaze to stare at the ground. He looked totally spent, lost. Sam bent and tugged at the ropes around her ankles, hoping Daniel would stay there long enough for her to free her feet. He did. She took him by the arm and he didn't look at her, speak, nor resist as she led him over the DHD. Her throat constricted with the effort of holding back the tears and her voice cracked as she tried to gain some sort of acknowledgment from him. "Daniel, are you with me here? Sit down, okay? Just lean up against here, and I'll go free Teal'c and the Colonel." He allowed her to guide him to the ground, and she lightly kissed his forehead as he leaned up against the DHD pedestal. There was no response. "We'll be right back, Daniel."

When she reached the other two, despite her worry Sam couldn't help but shake her head and throw up her hands in mock resignation. The exaggerated look of exasperation on O'Neill's face, as he and Teal'c lay back-to-back in an entirely futile effort to loosen one another's bindings, would had made even Daniel crack a wry smile. Sam took a look behind her at Daniel as she crouched beside Teal'c. He was leaning up against the DHD where she had left him not two minutes before, but with one big difference. He was fast asleep.

Jack figured he wouldn't even bother with the 'what have we got what do we need' shtick. They had nothing, and needed everything. They had the bedrolls and cooking utensils back up in the cave, but they didn't have any canteens - they had all been with the now disintegrated daypacks - nor any weapons for hunting. They didn't have even so much as a nail file between them, their vest pockets having been picked clean by Rykert. Sleeping bags and pots wouldn't put a dent in their situation.

And all of Daniel's notes - every scrap of the Altairian writing he had so desperately dredged up, every one of the myriad of pages of painstaking transcription from the village, all of the hard work he had put into identifying the Earth symbols - were gone too. Sure, they had the address to Earth but even if they used it, there was no way they'd be able to actually make contact with the SGC without a transmitter. Hammond wasn't in the habit of sending new MALPs on spec to planets where teams were off-world, when unexpected incoming wormholes were established. But, then again...

Jack was desperate to know what Panter and Daniel had spoken about at the DHD, but Daniel was asleep and Carter had made it perfectly clear she wouldn't need so much as a nail file for what she'd do to anyone who disturbed him. Truthfully, though, Jack was just as glad she had stopped him from rousing Daniel. As he'd crouched next to the kid, fully intending to wake him, Jack had been alarmed at the hitch in Daniel's breathing and the coldness of his face and hands. He rather doubted Panter would have given Daniel details about any contact the Major might have had with Earth, in any case.

"There is the matter of the zatnikatel."

Yeah, Teal'c. So true. Again, Jack wondered about just that. Panter had obviously been in contact with the SGC. So, what else might have been sent? "Right. He got a zat gun, and we know it didn't show up until sometime after we found Daniel and set up camp at the village. Unless Panter's got super powers we know nothing about, Hammond must have sent another MALP for communication." He stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. "It has to be around here somewhere. Let's go see if we can find it."

"Sir. Even if you find it, it probably won't be intact... but Major Panter couldn't just ask for a single zat gun and nothing else, could he? Wouldn't General Hammond wonder about that?" Carter stood as well, seemingly intending to come along.

"Yeah, he probably would. No matter what Panter told him about the rest of us, he'd still need supplies for himself. So... we're looking for a secret stash. Although if he had a single brain cell left in his head, he used the zat to blow away anything we'd find useful " Jack motioned toward Daniel. "We'll go, Carter. You stay here. If Daniel wakes up, see if you can find out what Panter told him."

Indicating the treed area right next to the DHD, Jack motioned to Teal'c and the two of them set off. It took less than five minutes to find the now-exposed dug-out hollow in the ground where Panter had lain in wait. Jack groaned to himself. He and Carter had scouted there when they'd arrived in advance of Daniel and the others, but obviously Panter had crept in behind them after that. They should have swept the area again before Daniel went to dial out. Another oversight on his part... one that had left Daniel, at the DHD not twenty feet away, wide open to the attack from Panter. Visions of a metal-lined corridor and the smell of blood and burnt flesh assailed him. It sure looked like this was the 'out to get Daniel' month of the year, and if there'd have been a contest to see who was best at it, Jack figured he'd have won hands down.

Ten minutes later, Jack found to his infinite pleasure that he hadn't been alone in screwing up. No more than fifty feet beyond Panter's hiding place, barely enclosed by the edge of a deep thicket, Jack found the other man's oversight. The Major hadn't used the zat gun to it's fullest potential after all. Ineptly buried under a huge pile of loose shrubs and branches was a FRED, loaded with SGC issue duffel bags, a couple of plastic box containers, one medium-sized metal trunk, and a much, much larger trunk. All right. As he started pulling away the brush, Teal'c joined him. Jack was pretty sure there was gloating scorn in the big guy's eyes.

A quick examination showed the duffle bags and containers were packed with MREs, clothing, one large field tent, and most thankfully, a complete field medical kit. One of the well equipped ones. In the large metal trunk was a disassembled field generator and a supply of fuel. No wonder Panter hadn't bothered with the zat. It probably would have taken forever to poof all this stuff. Evidently, the single working brain cell which must have been responsible for Panter's probable recognition of that, hadn't survived Daniel's assault on him with the gun; Panter had left them alive despite this stuff being here.

Teal'c broke open the smaller trunk to find an assortment of Daniel's reference books, a digital video recorder, and a laptop computer complete with two spare batteries and an external digital tape player. A broad smile spread across Jack's face at the thought of how pleased Daniel would be. It wasn't enough to offset Jack's feeling of having failed Daniel, but it sure would help to keep him from dwelling on it. Now, if they could just find that MALP. Panter had left all this stuff; maybe he had kept the MALP intact as well. Jack glanced up at the darkening sky. They had about another hour of daylight in which to seek deliverance.

Daniel buried his head in the compact pillow, trying to block out the insistent dull roar which had... uhh, which had... had, what?... had woken him... up... ah, wait just a minute here -

A pillow?

All right... confused. Very confused.

He could have sworn he was still on P-whatever. The quick flash of scenery he'd noted when he cracked his eyes open sure looked like the planet he'd last seen before everything went away. Shadowy images of rocks, dirt, stars in a foreign night sky, and the flickering glare of a nighttime campfire directly in his line of sight. True, he hadn't gotten a really good look before squeezing them shut again as twin bolts of pain darted right through his retinas into his brain. But he was sure he could feel the uneven ground he lay on and the hard stone base of the DHD pedestal against his hip, as he struggled to either fully wake up or blessedly drift back to sleep. He was pretty sure he preferred the latter, but it just didn't seem to want to happen.

Something smelled different. Okay, well actually, it seemed to be him that smelled different. Fresher, cleaner, tinged with a faint odour of soap and starch. Ah, oh-kaay? A pillow, a downy fresh scent and, oh what's this... a vague memory of being prodded and shuffled around, of hurting and not being able to do anything about it, of touches and sounds and voices he couldn't quite interpret. Daniel began to bring his arm up to shade his eyes, preparing to risk opening them again, and was surprised to feel ridged fabric covering his body. It wasn't soft but it was obviously, even just to the touch, clean. And warm. Okay. Maybe he wasn't on the planet any more. He'd been rocked and rolled and apparently cleaned up, blanketed and pillowed. Maybe he was in heaven.

No, that wasn't right either, because the more awake he got the more aware he became not only that the objectionable noise was actually in his own head, but also of the deep ache in his chest and the way his body seemed to float and twist with the slightest movement. Even with his eyes closed, with no visual point of reference, he was certain the world around him was tilting and sliding in a most sickening manner. Surely heaven would offer more comforts than just a clean smell, a pillow, and a warm blanket. Like, maybe an end to this far-beyond-ridiculous constant sickness?

So, not heaven. Not yet, anyway. Shifting slightly, the state of his mortal coil was all too clear as the roar in his head swelled and pressed at his skull, threatening to force his eyeballs right out of their sockets. It was a good thing he still had his eyes closed - it was probably all that kept them from shooting out like cannon balls. Sam had thought something bad was going on in his head and if this pressure was any indication, she was likely right. Intense panic and fear welled up and he felt an overpowering urge to bolt upright, to go, to run... to, where? Nowhere. There was nowhere to go. It had taken him over three days to find the path to Earth, and Panter had come along and promptly stolen their ticket home. If Sam was right - which she was - Daniel doubted he'd live long enough to figure out another route.

He may as well just lay where he was, fear and regret and headache-head-rush and all. He may as well just turn his face into the pillow and - a pillow? Where the hell did a pillow come from? Daniel turned his head as far into the softness as he could without risk of asphyxiating himself and cautiously opened his eyes. Yes... a pillow. A standard SGC-issue compact camp pillow. They didn't have any pillows in their gear. That meant... it... that... oh God! Daniel's eyes snapped all the way open and he pushed himself up onto his hands, but he went both up and back at the same time and the top of his head came into abrupt contact with edge of the dialing pad.

It hurt. But more than that, the world viciously tipped to one side and Daniel reached out with the hand not firmly plastered to the top of his head, groping for some sort of anchor. Trees and rocks and dancing flames spun in assorted directions all at once and his stomach joined in, matching the sickening dance with unique steps of it's own. Loud voices and a crunching noise added to the assault on his disturbed senses, and he felt himself falling over as his hand came into contact with... nothing at all. Just in time, a hand gripped his arm and he felt himself being safely guided back to the pillow.

"Jesus, Daniel! A real glutton for punishment, aren't you?" Jack's voice was just that little bit too loud to be entirely welcome. Daniel peered at the concerned face which floated in slow circles above him, and carefully moved one finger up to his mouth in what he intended as a 'shush'. He ended up poking himself in the nose. Ah God. No, please, no. A hand closed around his own and Jack's voice, much softer this time, was accompanied by a low chuckle. "Okay, okay, I get the idea. Just do us all a favour, okay, don't try to do anything. Just lay there. You're likely to take your eye out or something."

Oh, yeah, real funny. Here he was dying of a brain injury - he couldn't see straight and he couldn't even coordinate his own limbs any more - and Jack was joking around. Daniel felt the tears spring into his eyes and the cry move into his throat, and was helpless to hold back either of them. Crying. He was crying... in front of Jack. Shit. What a way to go. Leaving with style, Jackson.

Jack was shushing him, murmuring in a steady voice and Daniel felt a warm hand on the side of his face. He did his best to suck back the sounds of his own distress and was rewarded with a slight smile from Jack. "Hey, bug guy. It's okay. I know you feel like shit, but we can help you now. Everything is going to be all right." What? Help? Daniel barely had time to recognize his own confusion over those words, before Jack's head turned away as he called out behind him. "Carter, how long has it been? He's all messed up."

Then there were two faces rotating above him, and more words to puzzle over. "At least a couple of hours, Sir. What's wrong?"

"I dunno. Just all - discombobulated."

Sam's gentle smile floated off her face to the left, twisted first one way and then the other, and then slowly settled back to it's proper place. "Ah. I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that diagnosis, Colonel. Daniel? Daniel, can you understand me?"

Yes. Oh, okay, well, he could hear her. Understanding was another story. He didn't understand much of anything just then. When her smile turned into a frown, Daniel realized he was staring at her and hadn't actually responded aloud. Clearing his throat, he gave it a try. "Y..hmm... yeah. I-I'm hear, no, I mean, I hear you. I don't understand, though. What's, what's going on?"

The smile returned. Daniel found if he screwed up his eyes just right and really concentrated, it even stayed put on her face where it ought to be. When she spoke, though, the movement of her lips seemed out of sync with her voice. "Okay, well, do you think you can answer a few questions for me?"

Oh yeah, he knew this drill. "Daniel Jackson. July 8th, '65. He's Jack, you're Sam, my head hurts, my chest hurts, and everything is going around in circles." As Sam nodded her approval, it occurred to Daniel that he shouldn't be able to see her as clearly as he could. It was full night, wasn't it? He lifted his head to have a look around, and just as everything seemed to tip so far over that it seemed the ground would slip right out from under him, he caught a glimpse of a bright spot of light - a battery lantern resting atop the boulder not three feet from where he lay. His eyes pulsed in time with the pounding in his head and spots of red and black appeared in his field of vision. He tried to bring his other hand up to his face to cover his eyes, but couldn't seem to get it out from under the blanket.

The blanket. A lantern, a pillow, and the blanket. Okay, he had a few questions of his own to ask. Closing his eyes against the light and unsuccessfully struggling to free his imprisoned hand, the only thing he actually managed to force out was an incoherent curse of frustration. He kicked out at the uncooperative blanket, only to entangle his legs in it. Then Jack's hands pushed lightly on his shoulders, and Daniel heard the concern in Jack's voice as he addressed Sam. "Carter, how much did you give him, for Christ sake? He's got all the coordination of overcooked spaghetti."

"Well, it was you wanted me to do it, Sir. I thought we should wait until he was fully awake so I could judge..."

"Don't give me that. You were the one who insisted we had to change his clothes and clean him up."

"Well, yes. It was the perfect time to do it. He was pretty much unconscious. Do you really think he would have let us do that otherwise? You're the one who wanted him to have the shot even though he wasn't really awake."

Wait a minute... give him how much of what? A shot? Daniel listened to the peeved voices, trying to sort out what was going on here. He'd thought his current state had to be because he was finally showing the effects of increased pressure in his head, bleeding into his brain, but then again - God... maybe not? Oh, please.

"Oh yeah, and you expected me to just go ahead with it once he started moaning and groaning like that?"

"For all we know, he wasn't consciously feeling anything. He'd probably never remember it even without the shot, Sir. "

Disconnected awareness of moving, being pulled on, rolling, of pain, of touch and sound and helplessness. Daniel licked his lips, felt the raw and still very sore split on the inside of his lower lip, and did his best to speak loudly enough to be heard. "I remember."

"Well that's not the point, Carter. You don't have to remember pain to be in pain. Christ."

"We don't know for sure he was - Well, anyway, I didn't give him very much. I'm not sure why..."

Okay, so evidently he'd failed. Daniel drew in a breath and tried again. "Sam. Jack. I do."

"What?" Two voices answered him, two concerned and surprised faces drew closer. He tried to smile at them, but from the deepening frowns he figured it must not have been an exactly award-winning attempt.

"You do, what?" Jack looked worriedly from Daniel over to Sam as he spoke. "See? All messed up."

Sam peered at him for a moment and reached for his face. He felt the coolness of her finger as she gently pulled his eyelid up further. Oh, no. He knew what that meant. The dreaded bright light. He muttered a denial and tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him. And then there it was, a beacon of torture first directed into one eye and then the other. "Pupils are fine, Sir. A bit small, but that's natural considering the drug and the low light. I think..."

"I remember!" Daniel all but shouted it. Bad idea. He squeezed his eyes closed. Head-rush.

There was a moment of silence which quickly was broken by a crunching noise. The sound grew closer, louder, and Daniel heard and felt Sam and Jack draw back from him a bit just before he heard Teal'c's voice. "Daniel Jackson is awake?"

He slitted his eyes open to see the big man standing behind Jack, who was still crouched at his side. He seemed to be carrying something bulky. Looked heavy, whatever it was. Jack rose as he answered Teal'c, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Yeah. He's not quite with us here, though." Daniel felt a flash of irritation. He was beginning to think it was them, not him, who was brain injured.

"What is it he claims to remember, O'Neill? The information we require?"

"No. We haven't asked him about that yet. He just woke up a minute ago."

Sam face still hovered directly above him. She was staring at him. He stared back.

"Then what is it he recalls? He sounded quite adamant."

"The hell if I know. Nothing, I guess." Jack and Teal'c began to move away, their voices fading as they walked toward the fire. "We were just sitting here, and suddenly he pops up like some damned jack-in-the-box and - never mind, I'll explain that later - bangs his head on the DHD. Next thing you know he's squirreling around and..."

Yup, brain damage for sure. Receptive language deficit. Mind you, in Jack's case, it wasn't a far walk - Never mind. Daniel stared at Sam. She stared at him. She suddenly narrowed her eyes leaned forward, tilting her head. He suspected his perceptual difficulties were responsible for the almost impossible angle her head ended up at. Thankfully, she straightened up again as she quietly exclaimed, "Oh! Ahh." Daniel was just thinking of adding expressive language deficits to his diagnosis when she suddenly smiled warmly at him. "Hey there. Hi, Daniel." He saw understanding light up her face.

Thank goodness. "Hi."

"So you do remember us getting you all cleaned up." There was a faintly embarrassed look on her face. Daniel didn't know, nor really care, if it was because she had been wrong or if it was there out of some sort of misplaced empathy for him.

"Yeah. And I remember it hurt." Ah. It was because she had been wrong. The embarrassment had deepened to obvious, outright chagrin at his comment. He tried to raise his hand, to reach out to her, but his arm didn't seem to want to co-operate and his hand ended up dropping to the ground at his side He felt tingly all over. Oh, no. "Sam? I feel... I, I'm having trouble..." Her body seemed to flux, wavering and sliding between light and dark and left and right. God, please. "Sam, help. I can't...." What he couldn't do was finish what he'd started to say. It was too hard. He didn't want to die. He couldn't. Not yet. Not there, not then.

"It's okay, Daniel. You're okay. The SGC sent supplies after all. Food, clothing, even a generator and some fuel. They included copies of your files, too. Panter hid everything in the woods and we found it all after you fell asleep."

So? So what? God, she didn't understand after all. He wasn't all right, he was - supplies? The pillow, the blanket. Supplies. His files and stuff? Oh, shit. How long had they been there? Right from the start? Fat lot of good they'd be to him now. He felt as though he'd start crying again. Unfair. It was all so fucking unfair.

"There's medical supplies, Daniel. We started to get you cleaned up, but you became really restless. The Colonel wanted you to have some morphine. It worked, you settled right down, but I think I might have given you a bit too much."

Daniel did as he had earlier; he screwed his eyes up, concentrated until he got it just right, and found she looked almost normal. Okay, so, would he be able to do that if his brain was being squeezed into mush? He had no idea. Maybe yes, maybe that only meant he was at the beginning instead of the middle or the end of the end. "Am I... Sam, I think I'm..." Tears stung his eyes and he lost his precious hold on his emotions. Fear and anger constricted his chest and rose into his throat. He choked it out, feeling like a pathetic wimp. "You were right. You were right... I'm... I must be..."

She swooped down on him, gathering him up in her arms, her cheek cool and soft against his. He closed his eyes against the sudden, nauseating, disorientation. Her voice was in his ear, her words broken. She was upset. He had upset her. Moron. "No no no, Daniel. No, that's not it." He felt moisture on his face, felt both angered and humiliated by his weakness and grateful to her for the comfort. "I promise, Daniel. It's okay. I wasn't right, I was wrong. You're okay. It's just the morphine. I should have told you right away when you woke up." As she spoke, he heard the catch in her voice and realized the dampness on his cheek was not only his own. "That's all it is. Just the morphine. God I was so stupid to have given it to you while you weren't awake. You're all right, you are fine, it's just the drug..."

He was vaguely aware of the sound of Jack and Teal'c returning and of their questioning voices. He ignored them, allowing himself the luxury of burrowing into her support, losing himself in the warmth of her arms around him, the feel of her face against his, the soft murmurs of encouragement and reassurance which flowed unceasingly into his ear. She said he was okay. She promised he was okay. Right then, little else mattered.

Sam felt Daniel start to slide out her arms as he relaxed and tightened her hold on him, completely ignoring the Colonel's repeated question as to whether Daniel was all right. It was a stupid question, but there was by far something even more absurd than that here. Her. She had been so... stupid. She only now recalled the first and last time she had ever seen him on morphine, and it hadn't been a pretty sight. Dr. Fraiser had ordered special guest accommodation and an injection of painkiller for Daniel, after he'd been beaten by the Touched. It had been morphine, and a totally floppy Daniel had ended up figuratively on the infirmary ceiling, swearing the entire room had taken off on an interstellar flight without providing seatbelts. Not so figuratively, he'd been over the side-rails and on the floor within short order.

Now he had woken to find himself caught in the same swirl of misperception, unable to coordinate his movements, and having no true idea of just why. Given his condition before he'd gone to sleep and her own negative and all too verbal pronouncements about his head injury, it shouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the natural conclusion he'd likely come to. But she hadn't seen it coming. Even when his control had slipped and his distress became obvious, it had taken her far too long to catch on. She'd sat there and prattled on about the supplies. She'd been a total idiot on two counts; one for not remembering and giving him the drug while he wasn't alert enough to understand what was being done, and two, for not anticipating his reaction and reassuring him the moment he had woken.

She hugged him securely, allowing her own tears to mingle with his and doing her best to make up for her earlier cruelty. Deep inside, she knew nothing would ever negate what they had said to each other, just as she knew there was an element of truth in the words they had spoken. Even in the relatively short time since they had first met, they had come to know each other all too well, and the stresses of this mission had been a catalyst not for faulty insensitivity but actually for the release of insights into one another. It was true. He was right. She had a negative, analytically pessimistic streak in her which encouraged her to not only look for, but to want to actively point out - whether that information was wanted by others or not - the ultimate downside to any situation.

And maybe now was a good time for her to put to use his insight into her, to his benefit. Sam pulled back slightly from Daniel, looking at his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth drawn into a tight line which had to hurt, considering the swelling of his lower lip. He was calmer, but she wasn't altogether certain he was entirely reassured. She bought a hand up to his face and lightly tapped his cheek. "Daniel? Listen, something just occurred to me..." The moment he opened his eyes, she saw the evidence of vertigo and the instantaneous panic it evoked, in the coarse shimmy of his eyeballs, the sudden snap of his head, and barely audible gasp. She waited for a few seconds, and when Daniel's eyes focused on her face she smiled and gave it her best shot. "You know me, right, Daniel? You were right, I do tend to be mouthy about the worst of the worst." She ignored the faint look of protest on his face and it dissolved almost at once as he seemed to realize she wasn't interested in niceties. "I can be a real downer. So, it should really tell you something when I say that I'm sure - I am certain - that I was wrong. Okay?"

As she spoke, O'Neill crouched by their side. He looked very confused, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he commented, "Ms. 'what-if' and Mr. 'what-for'... you two make the perfect couple."

Their reward was a genuine smile from Daniel as he softly joked, "Yeah? And you being just plain old, Mr. 'what?'. You know what, I think we make a good team."

The Colonel's expression changed, darkened for a split second, and then he responded with a broad smile. "Yeah, I think so too. Well, okay, so maybe Carter still has some work to do on that..."

"Oh, thank you, Sir. Okay, if the Colonel is a 'what', I'm a 'what-if', and you're a 'what-for'... then what's Teal'c?

"I am a Jaffa. How are you, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel struggled in her grasp and Sam helped him to sit up. It was obvious he was extremely dizzy, but he managed to collect himself enough to locate Teal'c where he had come up on her left. Nodding at Teal'c and immediately swaying as a result, he reached out with one arm which O'Neill grabbed hold of. "Whoa. Remind me not to do that, okay? I'm okay, Teal'c. Feeling a bit weak and a lot dizzy is all."

"What is it you remembered? That which we require?"

A look of puzzlement passed across Daniel's face. Sam answered the question for him. "Just that we cleaned him up, Teal'c. We haven't had time to talk about anything, yet." She turned back to Daniel. "We were hoping you could tell us what Panter talked to you about. We've been dialing out to Earth every hour or so..."

She was shocked by the passion with which Daniel managed to respond. She'd though him too weak, but he proved her wrong as he pushed away from her and thrust himself up onto his knees, loudly protesting. "No! No, that won't work.. You can't do that. You have to stop doing that."

The Colonel caught him just as he slipped sideways. "Steady, Danny. We're just knocking on the door, that's all. We won't go through. We're hoping we're the only off-word team out of contact and Hammond will decide to send another MALP here to check out the activations..." He stared directly at her as he completed his thought, "...which he will, given enough time."

Sam bit her lip in concern as, if anything, Daniel's protest became even more forceful. He leaned heavily against O'Neill, gripping the older man's vest and trembling noticeably as he repeatedly shook his head. She bit harder into her lip, trying to stave off incongruous laughter as O'Neill drolly commented, "Don't do that, Daniel. You told us to remind you not to do that."

Daniel ducked his head and Sam was pleased to see he was with them enough to show some amusement of his own at the plainly facetious reminder. He shook his head yet again, obviously suffering unpleasant consequences as he wobbled and tightened his grip on the Colonel's vest. His words were becoming increasingly slurred. "Yeah, right. Well, when did I ever pay attention to you? Now, if it was Teal'c or Sam..." His expression changed, grew serious. "There's no way he's sending another MALP here. You can't keep dialing Earth, Jack. "

"Why?" As the word left her mouth Sam realized in the new order of things, that was the Colonel's line, not hers. With a wry grin, she amended it. "Err, I mean, what if we do?"

The lift of O'Neill's eyebrow contained a definite hidden thumbs-up, but Daniel didn't seem to appreciate her attempt at levity. He stared at her for a moment as if she had sprouted another head, before turning his attention back to the Colonel. Sam felt a stab of irritation and wondered why it was only the Colonel was allowed to engage in comic relief. But the seriousness of Daniel's next words, and the difficulty with which he forced them out, wiped the feeling away. "Panter was going to tell Hammond we were all dead. That this planet is the seat of a Goa'uld threat."

A heavy weight settled in Sam's chest. Panter's words came back to her. She was beginning to understand Daniel's alarm. "Halfway decent shot, Dr. Spacemonkey. But I'm still breathing, and you know, this is going to help things. Pretty good idea." Oh, God. If Hammond thought they were all dead and Panter had escaped home, injured, in the midst of a firefight...

"Dammit." The Colonel's voice was quiet. "What else, Daniel?"

"Just..." Daniel's strength gave out on him as he tried to answer. Sam reached out to help as the Colonel slowly guided him to the ground. "Sorry. Stuff you gave me, I guess. Just that he'd tell them the enemy had all our gear and the GDOs. Oh, and that he was pretty sure they saw the glyphs for Earth as I dialed, so they know who we were." A faint grin ghosted his face as he allowed his head to rest on Sam's arm. His voice was barely a whisper as he closed his eyes. "That's just about when I died, of course."

She stroked his hair. "Daniel?" He cracked his eyes open in acknowledgment, but they immediately drifted closed again. "It's okay. The General won't do anything rash. He won't risk the life of any locals just because Panter tells him they support the Goa'uld. He'll rely in the Iris to protect Earth. That's what it's for."

Her understanding of their situation increased as he replied, his words slow and faint, "There are no real locals on Panter's planet. Just a bunch of imports, on dead world with a few Goa'uld ships parked right near the 'gate."

Daniel was completely unresponsive as O'Neill gently unwrapped his fist from his vest. "Dammit, dammit, dammit. You're right, Carter, Hammond won't destroy a world without a lot more provocation than that. But Daniel's right too. We can't risk phoning home any more. Wouldn't do us any good anyway."

He found a new salutation for himself as he stood up and dusted off his pants. "So much for Mr. 'what'. Just call me, Mr. 'ah, what the fuck'." It was pretty clear to Sam he hadn't intended it to be in the least bit funny. And it wasn't.

"We begin again, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c looked over his shoulder to locate the other two members of SG-1. Good. They were some distance away, Captain Carter sitting on the dais steps in the morning sunshine and O'Neill unpacking supplies, neither of them attending to where he was or what he was doing. "This time, however, I have sworn to myself and now to you, that I will not ask anything of you. Nor will I take issue with any of my friends." He placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of the sleeping man and inclined his head. "I am sorry."

Satisfied on two counts - that he had admitted his culpability and sworn to support his friends in a more productive manner, and that the others were not aware of this open display of emotion - Teal'c withdrew his hand and stood. Not much could be done until Daniel Jackson once again awoke, however perhaps he could be of assistance to Captain Carter in preparing for that time. He looked at the digital video recorder he held. There was at least one way in which he knew he could help. He turned to the DHD and began taping.

It didn't take long to get all of the symbols recorded, however Teal'c was only part way over to where Captain Carter sat bent over the laptop when she suddenly straightened up and excitedly announced that she had found 'them'. Her face was beaming as he joined her. "Teal'c! They're right here. It was a bit hard to find, because when the files were loaded onto the laptop somehow most of the file names got truncated... but it looks like the entire manuscript was scanned in at high resolution, and Daniel had manually entered the translation into a separate file. Look. I can pull up both files, and open them side by side."

Teal'c looked over her shoulder to see what could only be the Altairian manuscript displayed on the small screen. He felt some measure of satisfaction at the sight; at least they had some portion of the work Major Panter had destroyed. The symbols from Altair on the computer would make it easier for Daniel Jackson this time around. As Carter scrolled down, Teal'c noticed some of the now almost familiar markings from the rough notes Daniel had made in the village, amongst the incomprehensible jumble of symbols on the computer screen. "I recognize some of these from the work Daniel Jackson has already done. There appear to be a vast number more symbols here than the ones he recalled."

Carter looked up at him for a second before returning her attention to the screen. "Yes. He tried to remember as many as he could... but, God, look at it all. This is a much bigger document that I expected."

"Will that be of assistance?" On the surface, the sheer number of symbols was confusing. It had been much easier to try to follow Daniel Jackson's progress when the comparisons and possible relationships were more limited. Teal'c was confused as to whether more was better, under these circumstances.

Carter bit her lip. "Well, even though it's all pretty confusing, I'm sure more is better, under these circumstances." Teal'c hid his small smile. He was beginning to understand the Tau'ri way of thinking. A distinct challenge he was pleased he had been able to rise to meet. "The thing is, Teal'c, when he worked on the Earth address, Daniel drew on his memory for symbols that matched the ones on the walls and on the DHD... so, for those he recalled which seemed relevant, as long as he could remember the Altairian translation for those symbols he could draw some contextual relationships. But it was a real struggle. Now, with all these..." she waved a hand at the laptop, "...he can do a computer search for any Altairian symbols he suspects might be integrated with the DHD ones, and the translation is right here."

In a flash, Teal'c fathomed how he could best help his friend; how he could make up for pushing Daniel so hard before. He touched Carter's arm. "Captain Carter, can you show me how to use this computer? You move the cursor by manipulating the small green button?"

She smiled at him. Teal'c knew she understood perfectly, when she not only showed him how to maneuver the cursor, but began to explain how to input the DHD symbols from the new digital tape he had made, and how to perform a search for those symbols in the database of the Altairian ideographs. Her explanations were clear and concise, and within half an hour Teal'c was confident he could manage. Not once did she protest that she could do the work more efficiently than him, even though there really wasn't anything else for her to do. Teal'c thanked her appreciatively, wishing he could find a way to support her needs as she now unquestioningly supported his.

Daniel vaguely remembered being awake before. He remembered Sam telling him about the equipment and supplies they'd found while he was asleep. And Jack talking about dialing home again, of knocking on General Hammond's door, as he put it. Daniel was sure he had told them not to do that... hadn't he? Hadn't he?

Alarmed, his eyes snapped open and he bolted upright into a sitting position. Agh. He shouldn't have done that; his head swam and his breath caught painfully in his chest. But never mind that. They shouldn't do that... they couldn't. He had to stop them. He struggled to stand up and ended up on his knees, leaning heavily against the DHD pedestal, facing the Stargate. His panic ebbed as he saw the three of them sitting on the dais steps, huddled together over what appeared to a laptop computer. Right. They'd said that. They'd told him the SGC had finally sent his stuff.

Daniel looked around. Everything seemed peaceful. The planet was still here, so either he had told them what Panter had said, or he hadn't given General Hammond nearly enough credit in the morals department. Where military ethics were concerned, Daniel often found himself irretrievably lost in ambiguity, never quite knowing what was realistic to expect. Even though the iris was in place and their code would be locked out, Daniel really had no clear idea of what lengths the SGC would go to in the face a continuing threat from this world. They hadn't blown up Chulak, sure, but that was home to a thriving society full of innocent people, pawns and slaves who were in need of support and liberation, not annihilation. Panter would make it abundantly clear there was nothing to be lost here, and Daniel had no idea just how closely the lunatic would be listened to. Had Hammond agreed with the ludicrous advice, Daniel, fast asleep at the moment of Armageddon, would never have known what hit him.

Sam looked up and saw him. Daniel couldn't help but notice the broad smile that spread over her face, and wondered what brought it on. Certainly, it couldn't be the sight of him; at the periphery of his mind, where he kept it firmly pushed as far from the light of day as possible, hovered a distinct memory of making a total fool of himself. Crying like a baby, allowing himself to be rocked and... despite himself, he had to smile... cradled. Okay, it must be something on the computer which she was so - Wait, his files, she must have located the Altairian manuscript. Feeling a stab of excitement, he started to disentangle his legs from the blankets someone had draped over him. He had to go over there. He'd managed to decipher the Earth glyphs with only the Altairian symbols he could remember; God, what he could do with the entire database!

About ten seconds. About ten seconds was how long Daniel had to look forward to the task. As he tried to rise to his feet, he felt something in his chest seize up and there was a fierce stabbing pain which drove him back down to his knees. God, it hurt! Daniel was barely aware of the exclamation from Sam and the commotion as all three of his friends ran toward him, but he was acutely aware of the burning in his lungs and the fierce nausea. He clenched his fists over his sternum and struggled to stay calm and control his breathing, and told himself over and over that it was just a spasm... just a spasm.

He felt hands supporting him. "Daniel! Jesus, what is it?"

He shook his head. He couldn't talk, not quite yet; it was still hard to catch his breath. Soon, though... it was just a muscle spasm in his chest wall... it would go away in a moment and then he could reassure them. A fresh stab rocked him, and he inadvertently bit his lower lip. Immediately, Daniel could taste the blood as the split on his lip opened up again. A souvenir from Panter; one Daniel could well do without. He gagged on the blood, and spat it out.

As he struggled to catch his breath, Daniel felt Sam's hand pressed against his neck and heard her quiet voice as she encouraged him. "Okay, Daniel, just slow it down. Take slow shallow breaths for now, okay? It's not serious, it just hurts. You can do it. Sir... it's 142..."

Relax, just try to relax. Daniel could feel each and every one of the 142 beats per minute slamming against his sternum, pounding in his head, reverberating in his jaw. God, he really didn't need this. He put everything he had into trying to remain calm, trying to slow his breathing and relax his constricted muscles despite the pain. He didn't have time for this now, he had work to do. Despite his best efforts to stay relaxed, he felt panic well up inside. He had to start all over again - he had a whole other address to decipher and he wouldn't be able to do it if simply breathing took all his concentration.

Jack gave the soup simmering over the fire one more quick stir on his way by. He glanced toward the Stargate before he resumed pacing the width of the clearing. This was way past being ridiculous. Ridiculous had been twenty-two hours ago when Panter had gone through the Stargate and left them back at square one with no way to safely dial out, only this time with an even more disabled Linguist. Now, hours of work and quite literally, blood, sweat, and tears later they were well into the realm of totally and completely absurd.

Blood, sweat, and... tears. Jack felt as close to tears as he'd ever been as he watched the dismal interaction taking place before him. Teal'c sat on the dais steps balancing the small computer on his lap, with Carter and Daniel on either side of him. Carter and Daniel were arguing. Again. About the same things they had been bickering over most of the day. About two things in particular... the first and most contentious of which was the amount of medication Daniel would - or, wouldn't, as the case may be - accept despite the fact he could hardly breathe, and the second being which address they were supposed to be working on.

There really shouldn't be any hurry now, as they had pretty much ruled out some sort of insidious, brain-blowing, progressive trauma as being responsible for Daniel's continued symptoms. They all agreed; five days post-injury was long enough to feel pretty safe in that regard. Daniel was as lucid and awake as circumstances and his general weakness would allow for, and he wasn't nearly as irritable or borderline irrational as he had been. They had enough food and supplies to last for a couple of weeks, and the drug kit was well stocked. The problem was, even if Daniel's remaining vertigo and nausea - and resultant dehydration - could be coped with, Panter had made all too sure there was still a need for haste. The prick had badly bruised, probably broken, Daniel's sternum. God only knew what lurked under the rapidly spreading, vicious-looking bruise on his chest.

Combined with the assorted problems Daniel still experienced, that pain was pretty much the last straw. Barely being able to draw enough air to support life without collapsing in agony kinda wore out a guy. Yet, the kid refused adequate doses of painkillers because he had work to do, and he had to be alert to do it. Jack cursed under his breath. This really wasn't fair. But when had Jack O'Neill ever been a believer in fairness? Life sucked. That was the first and foremost incontrovertible fact listed in the O'Neill Almanac. It had been proven countless times and only rarely, fleetingly, had it's authenticity been challenged. Sara had challenged it for a while, Charlie had all but wiped acknowledgment of its existence from the pages of life... for a while. But the fine print came back. It always came back.

Jack watched as Daniel, one hand pressed firmly against his chest, jabbed at the screen with an out-stretched finger while Carter shook her head in the negative. She pulled his hand away and Jack saw her indicate the bedroll, and the medical kit beside it. And saw Daniel's refusal. In a flash of insight, Jack realized Daniel was challenging the first rule of the O'Neill Almanac right now. He was saying, loud and clear, that preserving the sucks-to-high-heaven lives of his teammates was worth just about anything, that even though the current situation sucked big time didn't mean you stopped trying. Ever.

Okay. So maybe it was time he stopped pacing around and started helping. So far he'd kept out of the discussion on which planet to aim for, not feeling he had anything worthwhile to contribute to that decision. But that didn't mean he should have backed off on the other problem. Striding over to the kit, Jack pulled out the insert which contained the medications and pawed through it all. He found the small ampoule he was looking for and pulled out a syringe. He'd said it before - enough was enough - and now it was time to do something about it. He snapped the ampoule open and drew up the contents.

As he crouched in front of the others, Teal'c acknowledged him with a curt nod of his head and the most recent update. "We have determined Daniel Jackson's initial advice was correct, O'Neill. We may proceed more quickly if we concentrate upon P3X866, rather than Cimmeria."

Oh, well, good. More quickly would be good. Carter looked over at him with a repentant smile. "I was wrong. Daniel tried to tell me he already suspected which glyphs might be Bootes and Perseus which along with the two we already know definitely gives that address the advantage but I really didn't..."

She was interrupted by an exclamation from Daniel, in an all too breathless and pained voice for Jack's liking. "There! There it is! Teal'c, scroll back up, slowly... riiight... there! Okay, good, now bring up the translation file..."

As Daniel and Teal'c bent over the laptop, Daniel mumbling in fits and starts interspersed with faint gasps as he read the squiggles on the screen, Jack indicated to Carter, with a slight windmilling motion of his hand, that she should finish what she had been saying. He normally wouldn't have bothered, but if Daniel could buck The Book, well, maybe Jack should try mounting a challenge of his own. Knowledge is power. Okay... just where had he heard that? Never mind. "Carter? You were saying?"

She looked surprised. No, actually, she looked astonished at his willingness to hear it. She glanced at Daniel uncertainly, obviously concerned about distracting him. Jack stood up and jerked his head slightly as he backed off a few paces. She followed him. "Sir?"

"How's he doing, Carter?"

She grimaced slightly, then shrugged. "That depends on whether you're asking about progress with the glyphs, or..."

"Let's do the glyphs first, then the 'or'. You said we aren't going to Cimmeria? I thought we were going to Cimmeria."

"Well, I wanted to concentrate on Cimmeria, Sir. Teal'c is safe from the Hammer, and we could use the Sagan Box to contact the SGC. But Daniel felt he had already encountered a possible solution for Perseus while he was doing the Earth glyphs. Since we already had two glyphs for each of Cimmeria and P3X866 - Eridanus and Cancer for P3X866 and Scutum and Cetus for Cimmeria - Daniel thought we'd be one ahead if we went for P3X866. He also said he was pretty sure he had stumbled onto a good lead on Bootes when we were up in the village, and that's one of the P3X866 glyphs as well."

Jack was confused and slightly irritated over the suggestion she had quibbled with that, especially considering all the trouble she and Daniel had suffered through. "So? Why was there a problem? You know, Carter, you need to lighten up on him a bit. Someone just might think you don't trust him or something."

It was a low blow. He could see it's effect in her eyes, but he felt it was called for. She needed to give Daniel some slack. Her voice was quiet when she answered. "It's not that. It's just... well, the thought of going there..." She fidgeted, uncharacteristically showing her nervousness. "I just didn't want to ever go there again, that's all. But if it's going to get us out of here, well, I guess it's necessary." She brightened considerably, obviously with some effort. "We can dial straight out to Cimmeria from there, though. We'll only need to be there for a few minutes, that's all. Right?"

Yeah, sure... right. Jack had no idea what she was going on about. One planet was as good as another if it got them off this rock sooner rather than later. He outright said so, and turned his mind to the next subject at hand. Which was the syringe burning a hole in his pocket. He didn't get long to think on it, though, as her reply filtered through.

"Yes, of course, you're right Sir. It'll have to be Oannes, then."

Oannes? Oannes... as in bubbling-blazing-sushi-skewered through the brain still having frigging nightmares about it all Nem-Oannes? Where the hell did she get Oannes from? His shock sent a cold chill down his body and a sour taste rocketing into his mouth. He knew his negative reaction showed when she took a half-step backward and in a small voice tentatively offered, "Uh... P3X866 is Oannes, Sir. I thought you knew that?"

No, no, he hadn't known that. He had worked very hard over the last however many months to erase the image and odour of burning flesh from his conscious and subconscious mind, so why the hell would he have made a point of remembering the esoteric goddamn planet designation? Perversity? Masochism? Well, didn't this just reinforce his life-sucks rule number one? Speaking of which... Jack pulled the syringe from his pocket. "Carter, it's almost sunset. I made some soup for Daniel. Just about time to break out the MREs for the rest of us, and call it a day."

She looked at the syringe. "He won't take that, whatever it is. He probably won't have much of that soup, either. He's been feeling sick again." She waved a hand in the direction of the battery lanterns, at present stowed with a large pile of gear near the DHD. "And now that we have lights, you know what he's going to want to do."

"Yeah, well, he looks like he's about ready to drop. I think he can be encouraged." Jack tucked the syringe into his pocket again and turned and walked over to the dais. He crouched next to Daniel. Carter wisely didn't follow him and with a slight nod to Teal'c, Jack effectively conveyed he'd like to be alone with Daniel. Without comment, Teal'c placed the laptop on the ground next to him and stood to leave. Daniel, who had been leaning against the Jaffa, practically toppled over. The predictable complaint took the form of a glare and a low mutter which Jack was pretty sure wasn't in English. He really didn't care to hear a translation. "Hey, Daniel. Here, lean on me." He swung around and sat next to the young man, forcibly pulling Daniel over to him.

"I don't need to..." Daniel pulled away, reaching for the laptop. Jack intercepted his hand, easily pulling him back, and Daniel snapped at him, "Jack! I need..." His protest was interrupted by the need to catch his breath. Jack winced in sympathy as Daniel pressed on his chest and closed his eyes, gasping slightly. He turned quite green, as well.

"What you don't need, Daniel, is to work yourself to the point of complete collapse. The situation has changed, remember? And what you do need, is this." He nudged Daniel with his elbow, pulling out the syringe with his other hand. Daniel opened his eyes and Jack waved the syringe in front of his face. "Don't have a fit or anything... it's just to settle your stomach. I made you some soup, and it'd be great if you could keep most of it down, okay?"

Daniel stared doubtfully at him, the suspicion flowing so heavily Jack could almost see the brick wall being erected between them. Jack pulled out the proof, the empty ampoule, from his pocket and showed it to him. "See? It's compazine. A two ml. ampoule, and two mls. in the syringe." He bent his head over the tiny brown glass container. "Compazine. Prochel... no, procloper,ah, azz... oh, hell, whatever. Anti-ralph stuff."

Daniel leaned forward and squinted at the ampoule, appearing to study it. Jack knew it was just for show. Without his glasses, Daniel had more of a chance of sprouting interstellar wings and flying through space back to Earth than he did of reading anything that tiny and close to him. Daniel was using the action as a means of giving himself time to think. Jack's impression that the kid was trying to figure out how to extend an olive branch and an apology was confirmed when Daniel looked up at him and with all seriousness, commented, "Shouldn't that be, Uncle Ralph?"

Jack just barely managed to suppress a grin. "Yup, good old Uncle Ralph. Well-brought-up product of the modern world of medicine." He clapped Daniel lightly on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get at you here." He tugged at the collar of Daniel's jacket and was pleased when Daniel acceded to the point of actually helping him gain access to his upper arm. When Jack poked at him again Daniel drew his arm forward across his chest, and his deltoid muscle bunched accordingly. Jack heard him hiss slightly as he injected the medication and received a harsh glare when he pulled out the needle.

"That hurt. You need to take lessons or something." Fumbling for the sleeve of his jacket, Daniel added, "If I fall asleep or start waltzing around to music only I can hear, because of this, I'm going to be the one to give them to you, too."

"Oh, yeah. As if you could teach me anything, wimp-boy."

"What? Oh, now you've gone and..." Daniel started to retort, Jack could almost see the rest of the words moving their way to the tip of his tongue, but suddenly he gasped and leaned against Jack. It took him a few long moments to catch his breath well enough to speak again. "Ahh, hell. Okay, if you make that 'limp-boy', I'd agree with you about now." He ducked his head and admitted in a low voice. "God. I feel so damned sick, Jack. So weak. And my head and chest hurt. But, I really don't want to stop working."

"You don't need to push so hard, Daniel. We'll get home; I know you can do it. You don't have to do it all at once, though." Jack raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. "Especially since I'm told it's Oannes you're taking me to. You got something against me, Daniel?"

A slight smile graced Daniel's face for a moment, but otherwise he didn't respond to the jibe. "No, you don't understand. I'm close to confirming Bootes, I think. I'm afraid if I stop now I'll lose the thread and have to start all over." He stopped, struggled to breathe, and cast an imploring look at Jack. "Look, Jack, it's all deductive logic based on interpretation, and while the files and the computer are invaluable, basically they're just a listing, not a fundamental frame of reference. The real frame of reference is in here..." Daniel tapped on his head and then made a motion toward his eyes with two fingers, "...and here."

In reply, Jack bent over, picked up the laptop, and carefully placed it on Daniel's lap. "Do you need Teal'c to hold you up?"

Daniel smiled gratefully. "Well, I need him, but not just for that. He's been really helpful, Jack. You know, he has an incredible visual imagination."

Oh yeah? Who'd've of thunk it? Giving Daniel his best skeptical look, at which the young man just shook his head slightly, Jack called over to Teal'c before advising Daniel, "We'll give that shot about fifteen minutes to get working and then I'm going to drag you over for dinner. Which you will eat, Daniel. And after that, you're going to lounge around the fire with us and give yourself half a chance of keeping it down. Got it?" Teal'c settled in on the other side of Daniel. "Hey, Teal'c. He's got twenty minutes, then it's quitting time." He quickly raised an index finger to stave off the protest he saw forming on Daniel's face and, without another word, pushed himself to his feet. There wasn't anything left to say, and anyway, perhaps at the considerable dose he'd give Daniel, the compazine just might exert enough of a light sedative effect to mellow the kid out a little.

Besides, there was always Plan B. Actually, it was part two of Plan A, and it was time to put it into effect. Crossing over to the med kit, Jack snuck a glance over his shoulder back toward the Stargate. Thankfully, Daniel was intent on the laptop and not looking his way at all. He stayed there for some time, watching as Teal'c supported Daniel both physically and intellectually. He remembered the beginning of it all, the abduction of Sha're and Teal'c's defection. Yeah. Who'd of thunk it, indeed. He picked up the kit and took the whole thing to the far side of the camp fire where Carter sat, morosely slopping the contents of several MRE packages into a pot.

She made a face as she looked up at him. "Well, I didn't touch the soup powder. We should leave as much of that as possible for Daniel; there's no way he'll be able to eat the MREs. So, for entrees, we have a choice of beef stew, parmesan chicken, or spaghetti with meatballs. I picked the beef stew. I figured I'd just put a few of them into a pot and heat it all up at once."

He settled down next to her. "That the one that comes with the little fruit side dish? And the crackers and strawberry jam?"

She gave him a tolerant look. "They all have the crackers and jam, Sir. You know that. But yes, that's the one that comes with the fruit."

"Sweet." He rummaged in the med kit, pulling out several different blister packs. "So, what do you think, Carter? We could go with the Tylenol 3's, or maybe with the demerol tablets, or..." He dug deeper, pulled out another one and turned it sideways and back again, peering at the label. "What the hell is lor-az-e-pam...?"

"Oh. That's not a painkiller, Sir. It's for anxiety, kind of a mild sedative. It's ativan."

"Ativan? Okay, I know that one. So is this the kind you stick under your tongue, or is it..." Finding the correct information imprinted on the foil package, Jack held up the pack for her to see. As if she wasn't already looking. He stripped off his jacket and laid it beside him on the rock he was sitting on. "Sweeter than sweet. These are the ones you gotta swallow." Carter frowned, obviously not quite understanding why it would make any difference.

Feeling pleased at how things were working out, he pushed two of the small pills through the blister foil and traded the package for the one with the demerol tablets. Checking the dose per tablet, a measly 50 mgs., he took three of them and, along with the ativan, placed them on top of his jacket. A few quick grinds and turns of the butt end of the handle of his brand new knife, and all five tablets ended up as a coarse powder.

Carter's eyes widened, understanding beginning to register on her face. He carefully scooped up the powder, and with great satisfaction and a flourish of his hand added the crushed drugs to the pot of soup which now sat off to one side. The few larger chunks made satisfying little dents in the surface skim which had formed on Daniel's dinner.

"Sir! I don't think..."

He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Leave it alone, Carter. Daniel took the compazine, and I want to be sure it has a chance to do its job. He needs fluids, and a good night's sleep." He carefully stirred the soup, watching the lines formed by the powdered medication swirl and blend with the thick liquid. He moved the pot further away from the fire. He wanted the meds dissolved in the tepid soup, not cooked any more than the heat of the soup already would do.

A mixture of alarm and reproach showed in her face and tinged her voice. "Well, yes, of course. I agree... but to add all that in the soup like that, it's not..."

His temper flared at the assumed suggestion he was taking a risk with the medications, taking a risk with Daniel's condition. He wouldn't do that. "You were the one who convinced us there was no risk, Carter, that his head was okay. You said the pain killers are okay. You just said it's a mild sedative."

"Well, yes, of course... but that's not what..."

Jack recognized the sudden death of his optimism for the coming night was more because of the situation than it was her comment. He was angrier with their predicament - with both the necessity of this and his own willingness to be this underhanded - than he was with her. All the same, he couldn't seem to hold back on expressing the feelings her shortsighted criticism unleashed. "What? I'm not a complete moron, you know. You think I really expect him to eat all that? Shit, Carter, we'll be damned lucky if he actually gets half what I put in there. Even if he did get it all, it's probably not enough! I don't know about you, but I'm tired of seeing pain." He turned his back to her, stirring the mixture all the more vigourously. "I'm tired of this whole thing. Go tell them to get over here. It's time to quit for the day."

He heard her get up and begin to move away. His back to her, he couldn't see her face, but he could hear the gently chiding tone of voice when she spoke as she left. "Yes, Sir. I understand. It's just that... well, I had been kind of hoping to have his leftovers."

Oh. Looking at the pot which contained the unmentionable horror the military misleadingly labeled as beef stew, he felt somewhat stupid. He'd completely overlooked that possibility.

Go on to part seven

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