True to Form

by Jb

part seven, of nine

Oh, no. It was getting bad again. Oh, please, no.

Covering his face with his forearm, Daniel lay in the moonlit semi-dark and tried to swallow the sounds of pain and frustration which rose in his throat. They escaped anyway; gasps and groans he was totally helpless to control. He moved his head slightly, seeking to burrow his mouth into the crook of his elbow and muffle the noise, and as he did so, renewed vertigo hit like a freight train. Oh God.

He knew all too well the nausea was just an instant away. Every time his world had tipped in the slightest over the last six days, his stomach had reliably, relentlessly, responded. It would be no different now; yet again, he'd end up on his hands and knees hurling like a pro. Except it would hurt a whole lot more this time. He'd felt the weird snapping sensation in his chest every time he took any appreciably deep breath - it had been there ever since Panter had slammed him up against the boulder - and it got much worse when he was sick. Every time he retched or threw up the faint 'snap' of breathing changed into something much worse, catching his entire chest in a fiery grip which robbed him of both breath and any semblance of composure. It was coming now, he could feel it starting. He'd done his best, he really had. This wasn't fair. This sucked.

He had been oh so very annoyed over the deception of the previous night. They had spiked his soup. He should have known, but he'd thought the very faint bitter taste was due to his abused mouth - he'd been chowing down on acid and bile and blood a bit too often to be in any way objective about whether the chicken soup tasted as chicken soup should taste. He would have giggled at the thought it may have been macaroni and cheese for all he knew, except that although the disconnected part of his brain worked well enough to supply that particular flashback, the part which was very much connected to the rest of him was far too miserable to indulge in such comfort.

He had tried, really tried, to help himself. Ever since the day following his alarmingly untenable blow-up with Sam, he'd made a point of at least trying to drink and eat whatever they had given him, even when it threatened to come right back up in the next moment. It had helped. He knew he'd never have been able to decipher the Earth glyphs if he had not have made that effort, if he'd allowed himself to sink even deeper into the spiral of nausea, dehydration, weakness, dizziness and nausea-dehydration-weakness-dizziness-nausea. He had done it, and he'd made it down the path to the Stargate, and he'd stood there and dialed... and... oh well. But he'd still kept trying, right on up through the previous day, throughout which he'd pretended he didn't notice Jack sneaking the tiny white pills into the drinks he brought Daniel at regular intervals. Daniel figured it was the least he could do for Jack; the man had to have something to feel a sense of control over, after all.

Shit. Party time. The whirling increased in severity and with it, his stomach contracted and his throat closed up. A rush of heat in his chest and numbing cold in his arms and legs preceded the full impact of the nausea by a scant few seconds. Sickness overwhelmed his senses, filled his body and his mind to the extent he was aware of nothing other than the intense pain in his chest and the powerful need to bring up anything and everything inside him. Instinct took over as he rolled onto his side and struggled to get up onto his hands and knees, to move away from the sleeping area and find a private place in which to puke up whole organ systems unobserved. But the dizzying, rapid revolving of all that he was and where he was defeated him, and he ended up splayed out face first in the dirt beside the sleeping bag he'd been laying on top of.

He lay there for a few moments, keeping as still as possible, and the worst of it ebbed slightly... just enough for cognitive awareness of the whole of it to snap back into place. Torturous vertigo which made control of his trembling body all but impossible. Pressure in his head, a fullness accentuated by the harsh pounding in his temples. An almost unbearable snap-crackle-pop-catch in the centre of his chest, and overwhelming nausea which left him desperate for some sort of release. He prayed, urgently pleaded for it to happen, for the ability to forcefully puke his guts out. Or anything else. He didn't care what came up, it could be his gonads for all he cared. Just... something to put an end to this.

Only he knew it wouldn't put an end to it. He'd spasm and jerk and puke up whatever was in his stomach, he'd silently scream with the pain in his chest, and then his traitorous body would search further afield, dragging his intestines like a dredge would a river bottom. Daniel groaned, swallowed against the heaviness in his throat, and redoubled his efforts to move. To sick-up all over himself where the others were sleeping, where they rested and ate and stored their supplies, would be worse than rude and disgusting. It would be thoroughly humiliating.

It wasn't easy going, pushing with legs he could barely feel existed and pulling himself along while trying to keep one hand firmly clamped over his mouth in an inept attempt to delay the inevitable. He wasn't sure how far he'd traveled, scrabbling along half on his knees and half on his belly, before he felt an arm around his waist and a hand on his shoulder. When he realized whose arms supported him, he wasn't sure if he wanted to accept the assistance. Jack. Sneaky Jack, who had stolen a whole half-day from him in the misguided belief it was going to actually help him. It wasn't. It hadn't. Look at him now... he'd had the great sleep and the short day, and he'd taken the oral compazine before dinner, of his own accord this time around. And here he was. A half-day's worth of work gone, and nothing to show for it except the inevitable worsening of his health.

Jack's arm tightened around Daniel's waist and it was more than he could handle. He lost the battle, the vicious intensity of the nausea and the pressure around his middle forcing the issue. He retched. Somewhere amid the agony in his chest he felt his toenails working their way up through the spasms and constrictions, riding a one-way, reverse direction wave of peristalsis that he both feared and welcomed.

Only one-way travel allowed. The wrong way, but who cared. Dredge it, suck it up, spit it out. Like sucking scum up off a river bottom and ejecting it out into a stinking, slimy... Agh. God. Wait... Oh, God! In the middle of a particularly violent retch, Daniel suddenly visualized the third glyph, the gracefully curved tube and tilted triangle which formed Cra, Corona Australis. Insert here, please. In this end, around the curve, out the other. A perfect one-way U-turn. Then he puked, with a great, agonizing heave which darkened his vision and sent a shaft of pain through his chest the likes of which he doubted he'd survive. And similtaneous with delivering the goods, he understood just where to start in deciphering Cra.

What a difference a day makes. Actually, a day and a half. Jack glanced at his watch; thirty-three hours to be exact.. What a goddamn, frigging, dismal difference. Thirty-three hours ago, Daniel had downed most of a pot of drugged soup, had kept it down, and had ended up blessedly down for the count for the next fourteen hours. He'd had a decent high-energy fluid brunch when he'd woken, courtesy of Carter, Carnation, and the US Military. He'd then spent the next eight hours glaring accusingly at them and suspiciously refusing almost everything they'd brought him to drink throughout the day unless he himself had observed them fetch it. Of course, Jack could be oh so very sneaky when he wanted to and due to his great skill at carrying out covert action, Daniel had unknowingly received a decent amount of demerol throughout the day, not to mention the decent dose he'd downed with his chicken-a-la-surprise soup at dinner.

But that was then, and this was now. Jack lay on his bedroll staring up at the stars, listening to the almost frantic sounds of distress coming from the direction of the DHD. He'd not been quite fully awake when he'd heard the beginnings of it - the dragging, scrabbling noises which he only realized was Daniel hauling himself away from them when he'd turned over and found himself confused at the sight of the empty sleeping bag beside him. He was thoroughly awake now, though. And just as thoroughly helpless to do anything about this turn of events.

He had peered across the dimly moonlit clearing to see the kid crawling his way over there - funny how Daniel instinctively gravitated toward the DHD or the Stargate when he was suffering. It had happened before, both on and off-world, but until now Jack had never really given any thought to it. It was almost as if Daniel unconsciously found some sort of solace there. Or maybe not. Maybe it was just the opposite... like desperately trying to find a way home, or to escape whatever or wherever the torture of the day was, or something?

Whichever, Jack wasn't welcome to join Daniel there. He never had been - no one had, really - and this time was no different. He had tried. He'd helped him get there, but had been thoroughly rejected when it came to dealing with the messy stuff. That was probably for the best, given the disturbing images and odours, flashbacks, which ran through Jack's mind. But still , Daniel couldn't be left alone like that. He'd had to resort to ordering Teal'c to ignore Daniel's pleas and angry attacks of invective, and stay there with him doing what Jack couldn't bring himself to do. To watch the suffering. The compazine and the morphine were in and all of what Daniel had eaten earlier was well and truly out, along with some other stuff which had never seen the light of day, nor ever should to begin with. All there was left to do now, was wait.

Despite the late start, work on the glyphs had literally raced along the previous day. According to Daniel, they now had the first, second, and fourth symbols for Oannes sorted out, the sixth was done and waiting for one last final confirmation check, and the fifth was Cancer, which they had already proven through the Earth address. One glyph to authenticate, which Daniel had felt wasn't going to be a problem, and one more to figure out. They were short the third symbol, and today was supposed to be the day they would nail that sucker and test out the full address on the DHD. Supposed to be. Before this happened. Now, who knew what the day would bring.

Lost in his thoughts, Jack was startled when Carter slumped down to sit next to him, drawing her legs up and resting her forehead on her knees. She jerked slightly when a particularly loud retch came from across the clearing. "Teal'c said he thinks the drugs are starting to work." Her muffled voice cleared, becoming more audible, as she raised her head. "Doesn't sound like it to me." There was a worried frown on her face.

No, it didn't sound that way to Jack, either. It had been twenty minutes since Carter had given the injections and then been rudely ejected from the area. Over that time there had been short periods of relative silence, but by and large... not. The gagging, groaning, and gasping had been more or less constant companions to the sound of the wind in the trees and the distant rush and swirl of flowing water in the creek. The breeze carried a familiar, faintly mulchy, mossy green odour. Gee, such an idyllic setting. Jack gazed up at the stars, just beginning to fade as dawn approached, and really, sincerely, deeply wanted to goddamn fucking go home.

"Sir, I think we have a problem."

Jack almost bolted upright to smack her a good one. Well, Duh. He slowly turned his head and stared at her, the sarcasm and anger welling up and just about to spill over when he saw the expression on her face. Her eyes were wide and serious, full of intense worry. He was surprised to see uncertainty there as well. This trip was wreaking havoc with his Captain's usual strong demeanor, that was for sure. He tempered his response accordingly, limiting it to as bland as possible a, "Ya think?"

She looked straight at him, gnawing her lower lip, her forehead creased in an ever-deepening frown. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again before anything came out. Okay, so obviously she meant they had yet another problem, a new one he wasn't already aware of, and she was having trouble figuring out how to tell him about it. One of the louder moans of distress floated across to them, and he amended his thought to specifically include problems in addition to the one he was so unwillingly listening to right then. He sat up, rested his forearms on his knees and gave her the old C.O. stare, the one which all non-coms and junior officers instantly recognized as meaning they'd be in deep shit if they didn't come up with something really good, really quick.

It worked. She straightened noticeably, as if some instinct told her body that even under the present circumstances the correct response to 'the look' still involved implementing the ramrod, and admitted, "About finishing the glyphs today, Sir... you won't like this much. It turns out Daniel has been keeping something from us."

The groan which escaped his mouth was but a shadow of the one which swelled inside him, filling his chest with cold dread. He didn't think he wanted to hear this. Whatever it was, she had to be wrong. Daniel wouldn't do that. He wanted to get home as much as the rest of them. He was working hard on the glyphs; he'd said there was just one more to decipher and once that was done, they'd test the address. Daniel seemed pretty sure it would work. He'd said he knew how to do this, and Jack believed him. There was no problem, because Daniel knew what he was doing.

He scrubbed his hands across his face. Even though he knew she was wrong, he had to ask anyway. Just in case. "He wouldn't keep anything from us, Carter. He knows how to do this, and he wants to get home as much as we do." There. He'd asked. End of subject.

"No, I know that, Sir. I apologize, I think I mislead you. It's not specifically about doing the glyphs themselves. It's about... Daniel doing the glyphs."

Ah, hell. Damn, damn, damn. Hadn't he said, a few times, enough was enough? He tilted his head right back and stared accusingly into the dawn sky, daring the non-existent gods of the universe to throw yet another trauma in his face when he'd already repeatedly said it and done everything he could possibly have done about it - enough was enough. He forced out the question, croaking slightly due to the hyperextension of his neck. "What now?"

"He just admitted to Teal'c, that when Panter threw him against the boulder... well, he just told Teal'c that since then, he's had a snapping sensation in his chest."

So? He brought his head back down, wincing as his neck cracked slightly, and stared at her. "We already suspected there was something more than just a bruise under that bruise. So, sounds like he did fracture his sternum. That's not news, Carter."

She shifted uncomfortably, and repositioned herself to fully face him. "No, that's not what it is. If his sternum is fractured, which we really have no way of confirming, it'd likely be a very stable break or he would have been in severe trouble long before now. It was pretty solid when we checked it. In any case, I don't think a sternal injury would account for him feeling that sensation with breathing, Sir. There has to be something else... but that's not the point, Colonel."

Jack cast a belligerent glance at the sky, which was lightening considerably as dawn entered full swing. No one up there was listening to him; how many times did a guy have to say enough? "It's not? Then what is the point, Captain?"

"The point is, with all this..." She waved a hand toward the DHD where the only sound to be heard was the faint rumble of Teal'c's low voice, "...well, from what Teal'c has said, it looks like something's really snapped now. The pain is much worse even with the morphine. We have to check him out, Sir, but Teal'c thinks he's beyond the help the pills can give him. And we know Daniel doesn't function very well on the injectable pain killer we have on hand." She stared at him with solemn, wide eyes. "Sir, if Teal'c is right..."

Jack filled in the rest of the sentence, brusquely. "If he's right, Daniel may not be able to do any more than he already has... which means because the rest of us don't even know where to start with this stuff, he'll be just the first of us to die here, Carter." Angry beyond measure, he climbed to his feet and glared down at her. "But that's not going to happen. You got that?"

Her answer was a bare whisper. "We may not have any control over that, Sir."

She was wrong. The only control you lose is what you surrender. Jack detoured to grab an extra blanket and pillow from the stack of supplies and then made a beeline for the DHD. It had been more or less silent there for the last five minutes; with any luck, the shots had fully kicked in and Daniel would be able to tolerate some gentle poking and probing. Somehow, this was going to work out. It had to.

Well, it wasn't exactly working out the way Jack had hoped, but it wasn't a total disaster... yet... either. Daniel had restlessly slept until mid-morning, and awoken to more dizziness, pain, and the remnants of disconnectedness caused by the morphine. He'd accepted compazine, but refused to eat or drink anything. Jack knew that was out of fear of a return of the nausea Daniel had suffered through in the pre-dawn and early morning hours. Teal'c had settled down next to him on the ground and they had tried to do some work, but Daniel's concentration was sorely lacking.

They knew the morphine was a no go if they wanted to get off the planet so they'd tried loading on the oral stuff, but the Tylenol 3's were hopelessly inadequate. Teal'c had just given Daniel some more pills and the last of the compazine, and now, late in the afternoon, Jack sat there staring at a med kit which contained only one more dose of demerol, at a complete loss as to what to do. He sorely regretted the use of the pills throughout the previous day and night, during the time that Daniel was eating and drinking. They should have gone with double doses of Tylenol 3's.

Jack crouched next to where Daniel sat propped up against the large boulder and purposely avoided looking at the rough upper surface of the rock upon which their hopes of getting off this planet had all but died. He was certain if he saw the exact spot where Daniel had been forcefully pressed against it, he just might go totally stark raving lunatic nuts and try to reduce the boulder to crumbs with his fingernails and teeth. That would be unseemly; his dignity was at stake, so he carefully concentrated only upon his reason for being there.

Leaning back against the pillow Carter had placed at his upper back, Daniel sat with his eyes closed, and one hand clamped in a fist on the centre of his chest. The effort being put into remaining quiet and under control was readily visible in the alternating tension and forced relaxation of the muscles in his jaw and the accompanying ebb and flow of the lines furrowed into his forehead. The abandoned computer sat on the ground next to him, the screen blank and dark, the power-down feature having activated.

Jack reached out to turn off the power but stopped at the sight of Daniel's other hand reaching out, blindly groping, and the sound of Daniel's voice. "No. Don't." The words came out as breathless groans. Daniel opened his eyes, not moving his head, as his hand found its mark. "Please. Leave it on."

Jack covered Daniel's hand with his own, where it rested on his forearm. Cold. His hand was cold, and trembling. "Daniel, it's just eating up the battery. We can always power it up again later. There's lots of time."

A low noise Jack took to be a possible cynical laugh came from Daniel. "No, Jack. It can't be... later." The young man rolled his head against the rock behind him to bring his gaze around to Jack. The action was followed immediately by a deep moan and Daniel squeezed his eyes shut. Jack gripped his hand tighter, and felt a faint increase in Daniel's own grip in response. "I'm okay. Just dizzy." There was a pause, and Daniel opened his eyes once again, looked straight into Jack's face, and pretty near stole Jack's breath away with the depth of sorrow in his voice. "Jack. God. I am so sorry."

It was all right. Wait, no. No, it wasn't. But it wasn't Daniel's fault and he was suffering enough as it was. "Hey, it's okay. Just a minor bump in the road. We'll still get there. " Jack knew he was on the wrong track when Daniel's throat constricted visibly and he shook his head in mute rejection of the all too obvious platitude. Try something else. "Hey, c'mon, Daniel. Anything I can do for you? Uncork the wine, peel you a grape, bring on the dancing girls... anything?"

He wasn't surprised at the response. "Yeah. Computer. And, I need Teal'c back."

"Teal'c just left with Carter. They're out gathering firewood. Daniel, I'm not going to give you the computer. You're in no shape to be trusted with valuable equipment."

This time the noise was recognizable as a short laugh, and not at all cynical. It was more like a snort than a real laugh, but hey, Jack wasn't about to be picky. "Oh? So that one you liked, eh? Nix on the dancing girls, but that lame piece of..."

"What... what are they wearing?"

"What would you like them to wear? Nothing could be arranged."

The corners of Daniel's eyes crinkled slightly and his mouth curled into a slight smile. "Not gonna let you off so easy. No work in arranging nothing." He squinted his eyes in mock concentration, gasping slightly, whether due to pain or dizziness Jack wasn't quite sure. "Okay. I want... I want red g-strings, v-violet tassels and gold tiaras. Oh... and, uh, thigh high bl-black leather boots."

Jack grinned. "Well, I'd date you."

"Wine and dine?"

"Sure. And my place afterwards."

Jack caught Daniel by the shoulders as the beginnings of a hearty laugh transmuted into a cry of pain and he collapsed forward, pulling at and twisting the front of his t-shirt. Jack slid right up next to him and hugged Daniel's body against his own, trying to help him ride out the spasms caused by the attempt at laughter. "Okay, okay... sorry. Shhh, try to relax. Guess that wasn't such a good idea."

Through short, grunting expirations, Daniel managed to force out, "Oh, sure. Back out now. Cheapskate. You just wanted... to see... the tassels."

It was Jack's turn to laugh. "Daniel, your tassels are no different from my own. Now, if it was Carter we were talking about, that'd be..."

"Strange and... sick." Daniel peered at him, shaking his head slightly. "Scary."

Speaking of sick - Jack reached behind Daniel and pulled the pillow back into place against the boulder, gently settling Daniel back against it. He was pleased to see the pained expression on Daniel's face had lightened, and his breathing seemed easier. "Those pills Teal'c gave you should be kicking in by now."

Better able to suck air and talk at the same time, Daniel smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah. Except for you making me laugh, I'm in tip top shape." His face grew more serious. "Jack, this can't wait until later. There may not be a chance to follow this one through, later."

"Daniel..." Jack was only too well aware of the harshness which entered his voice.

"No." Daniel raised a hand, trying for the familiar wait-a-minute finger wag, but wasn't able to pull it off. His finger wavered uncertainly, and as his arm did a quick-fade he allowed his hand to drop back into his lap. He stared at it, and frowned. "That didn't turn out so good."

Jack felt a very familiar mixture of irritation and fondness ping in his chest. Daniel may have lost control over the efficient use of his index finger, but he still hadn't lost his touch. "Okay. Okay. I know I'm gonna regret asking, but what do you mean?"

"I think I know where to go with this. But like I said before, it's deductive. Have to follow a train of thought, a thread. If I let it go now, I don't know if I'll be able to... to, pick it back up." He stared at his hand again, a deep frown creasing his forehead, and whispered in a voice so quiet Jack had to lean forward to hear him, "Oh my God. A pointer. Like my finger. Not a specific direction of travel, but an indicator. Teal'c didn't think it was going anywhere... but it was. It is."

Suddenly Daniel's head snapped up. Jack reached out to support him as the abrupt movement set off a new round of whatever-the-hell ailed the kid and Daniel let out a low cry and slumped to one side, reaching up to hold his head. Jack considered paying another visit to the med kit, but he wasn't quite sure what to look for. "What? What's with your head... dizzy again?"

"Still. But never mind that." Daniel waved a shaking hand at him. "Jack! I just realized... Teal'c thought it was a dead end... but he couldn't find the proper ideographs because, because - I need the computer. I have to see the computer..." Trying to reach out for the laptop, the obvious dizziness got the better of Daniel and he sagged back against the rock for a moment, grimacing, his hands twitching. Even before Jack could recognize signs of an impending flurry of activity, Daniel tried again, throwing himself forward to land on his hands and knees and scrabbling to grab the computer before he lost the ability to hold himself up.

Jack's better judgment told him to dump the kid with a well-placed swipe to his knees, right then and there. To lay Daniel down and sit on him either until the meds kicked in fully or he gave up on this foolishness. But his instincts hollered at him to do just the opposite. With a huge sigh, he gave in and forcefully grabbed Daniel around the waist, up-ending him back onto his butt. "I'll get it. Knock it off, before you do more damage to yourself. I'll get it." Pinning Daniel's shoulder to the rock with one hand, he retrieved the laptop with the other. Daniel reached out for it, but Jack pulled it out of his grasp. "No. I'll take it. You can tell me what file to pull up."

"No, no... I thought it was... it, it, it was a directional ideograph I needed, but I think I refined it too far. I have to see the..."

Jack didn't even try to moderate his voice. His annoyance came through loud and clear. "No, Daniel. You just sit there and do the thinking part. Dammit, this is ridiculous. You're so dizzy you can't even see straight anyway." At the desperate look on Daniel's face, he softened his tone. "I'll help you as much as I can. Explain to me what you're doing, bounce the ideas off me, let me be your eyes, okay? Just trust me... tell me what to look for."

Daniel's frustration was clear. "It won't work that way. You won't understand. I have to see the symbols, to try to recognize..."

"Well, that's the only way we're going to do this, Daniel. It's me, or nothing. Look, you said it yourself, later might not work. You said you need to concentrate, to follow your train of thought. If you're not even capable of turning your head without falling over, how is trying to manipulate the computer going to help you do that?" Jack knew it would be a low blow, but he needed to impress upon Daniel that he wasn't capable of doing this on his own. "You don't even know what end is up or down right now, Daniel. What if you do it all wrong? If you push yourself past the point of barely coping and it turns out it's all wrong, are you going to be able to start again later?"

All Daniel's agitated efforts ceased abruptly, and he ducked his head. When he brought his face up, there were wet trails down both cheeks. "Jack. I feel like shit. I've tried... for days and days, I've really tried. But, there's something bad in my chest and my head still isn't right. I don't know if I can... if I can hang on much longer." His voice faltered at the end.

Jack sat in silence, struggling to control the urge to stand up and scream violent curses at the heavens. He wanted to set fire to the O'Neill Almanac, to forever rid the universe of the fine print which, once again, had come back with a vengeance. He wanted to reach out and tell Daniel he knew he could do it, that he knew he wouldn't get it wrong, that if Daniel felt like giving up now, it was all Jack's fault and Daniel should just ignore him. He even opened his mouth to do it, but in the end, he couldn't.

But then, it became clear he didn't even need to try. As Daniel tipped his chin up higher and regained control over his voice, Jack felt awed by his resilience. "I don't have much left in me, Jack. If I can't do this now, today, we might all die here. I certainly will. I don't need you to tell me what's at stake if I screw it up. I don't need you to tell me I can't do this." Stopping to catch his breath, Daniel turned his head, stared right at Jack. Slight oscillations of his eyes told of lightheadedness, the lines on his forehead and around his mouth told of pain. "I... I need you to tell me, I can. I'm on the right track here, Jack."

As much as Jack respected - hell, admired - Daniel's tenacity, it would do neither of them any good for him to patronize the kid. "Maybe you are on the right track, I don't know. How would I? You're refusing to share it with me. The one thing I know for sure is there's no way you can do it alone. If you're going to get us out of here, you're going to have to find a way for me to help you."

He leaned forward and place a hand on the side of Daniel's neck, determined they would figure out a way to do this together. "Look, it seems those pills are doing their stuff. You're breathing better - the pain is less? Right. So let's take advantage of it while we can." Lightly, he clapped Daniel's neck with his hand and then withdrew it to flip the laptop around so he could get at the keyboard. "Explain it to me. Tell me what to do to help, and let's try to get off this goddamned planet."

Daniel stared at him for a moment, then leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and capitulated. "You need to open both the manuscript and the translation file. Translation file in front as the active window. Use the 'find' command..."

"Wait. Hang on. It's just waking up. Okay, Teal'c left both files open. 'Find' is in the edit menu, right?"

"Yeah. Need to run a search for whatever words I tell you. We have to do them one at a time. If it's there, you need to use the cross-link to locate the ideographs for that word in the manuscript, and... ah, wait, catch my breath, hang on... then carefully draw them on a piece of paper." Daniel paused for a second, and grimaced as he tried to take a deep breath. "We'll try 'point' and 'pointer' first, although I don't think they're going to be there. Then we'll try 'indicate' and 'indicator ', and I want to try the root and reasonable elaborations of 'directive' as well, to start."

Jack wondered why the paper was necessary, but really didn't want to ask. Instead he simply nodded. Daniel clearly recognized his confusion, though, because the explanation came anyway. "All of the DHD alterations we've deciphered so far have expressed complex ideas. The language we're dealing with is both ideographic and syllabic. There's probably more than one symbol associated with each word I want to look for, and there's likely to be more than one Altarian symbol incorporated into each glyph."

"Ah. So if we copy all of the ones we're interested in down on paper, we can mix and match, looking for a combination that's the same as one of the altered DHD symbols." Jack puffed his chest out with pride. He'd be a bona fide linguistic expert in no time, at the rate he was catching on.

Daniel laughed, then immediately cried out in distress and bent forward, clutching his chest. The words coming out in strained gasps, he quite efficiently dashed Jack's newfound confidence. "No. It's not... that simple. If we did it that way, we'd... we'd be dealing with, uhm, trying to combine at least twenty symbols by the time we've done the searches, to find a match to one of the, the twenty-nine glyphs we still haven't identified. And we have to factor in the shape of the original DHD glyph as well. That way's impossible."

Oh. Jack wasn't sure if he should feel sheepish or disturbed. "So, okay, we don't do it that way. Let's just do a few words at a time, then." Oh, wait, no. Stupid. Jack didn't need the raised eyebrows from Daniel to tell him he had just pulled a boner. "Ah, right. Then we'll run the risk of missing the right combination." Typing in the first word and initiating the search, completely perplexed, he asked, "So, what the hell do we do with the symbols we get from the searches?"

"We follow the thread. If I'm on the right track to begin with and the manuscript contains what we need, we'll figure it out. We compare the symbols we find with the original glyph we're looking for, and manipulate combinations according to the ideas they represent. We need to find conceptual, visual images that might be consistent with Altarian-based cultural and astronomical interpretations of the original DHD glyphs. Then we try to do the matching. "

Oh, Jesus. Okay, not sheepish. Alarmed; definitely disturbed. Jack knew Daniel had said the process was both complex and interpretive, but oh crap, he'd had no frigging idea - he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it. All that did was jar his eyeballs. He glanced over at Daniel, relieved to see he still had his eyes closed. Jack really didn't want him to see the grave doubts he knew he couldn't entirely hide. "Uh, Daniel? I have all the faith in the world in you, but I don't think it's going to be a we kind of thing. You know me, the best conceptualizing visualizing thing I could probably come up with is to just sit here and dream of tassels and tiaras. I'd just be riding on your coat-tails. You sure there isn't an easier way?"

Daniel opened his eyes and gave him a weak version of what Jack thought was probably intended as a playful grin. Between the kid's discomfort and dizziness, though, it came off as a cross between a leer and a grimace. Jack didn't mind, because the words which accompanied the look more than made up for that.

"S'okay, Jack. I promise, you help me get through the translation part, and I can handle the application. You can catch a ride on my tassels any time."

"Carter, you about all set?"

Turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of the Colonel's voice, Sam watched him survey the Stargate clearing. She followed suit, taking what she hoped would be her last long look at this planet. Or, at least, at what she could see of it outside the glow of the lanterns. With the moon and stars hidden behind thick clouds which threatened rain, the battery lamps were all they had; their light spilled out in bright arcs which fell victim to the dark shadows all too soon and all too suddenly. The surrounding darkness outside the reach of the lights seemed oppressively impenetrable.

She stood at the DHD, holding the piece of paper with the six glyphs drawn on it, Teal'c standing to her right. The computer, Daniel's files and texts, and the med kit were packed up with the few other essentials they'd decided should be taken back with them. It was a manageable stack, if Daniel was able to walk with minimal support. If he wasn't, they'd forego just enough of the second choices so two people could manage the rest.

Sam opened her mouth to answer, to tell O'Neill everything was a go, but as the same uneasiness which had dogged her on and off for the last few hours surged, she closed her mouth without saying anything. She was missing something. Something wasn't quite right. Looking down at the piece of paper in her hand, she studied the symbols for Oannes. For about the fifth time, she peered over at the DHD and did a quick comparison to locate the proper glyphs. As it happened, when Daniel had finished decoding the last of the altered symbols for Oannes they had found four of the six to be in the same locations on the dialing panels where they most frequently encountered them, on other planets. The same as they had discovered with the Earth address.

Just out of interest, she had tried to dial Oannes not using Daniel's translated glyphs, but by following the usual location of glyphs. It hadn't worked, just as it hadn't worked to do it with the Earth symbols upon their arrival here. But they had a correct dialing sequence for Earth now, and she didn't doubt for a moment that they now had a valid sequence for Oannes. Daniel had done an amazing job. No, it was something else which niggled at her. She just wished she knew what the heck it was.

Daniel. At the thought of his name, her unfocused discomfort grew to the point of provoking physical restlessness. She shifted, shuffled, and had to lock her knees to avoid starting to pace. Okay... so, it must have something to do with Daniel.

"Carter?" The Colonel was looking at her with some impatience.

Sam looked over to where Daniel sat on the ground, his back up against the same boulder which had been his fickle home away from home for far too long. The angled, harsh beam of light from the lantern atop the boulder washed across the top of his head and fell to illuminate his lap and legs, sending ugly shadows over his face and chest. Head tipped back to rest against the hard stone, his still bruised eyes closed and mouth open, limp hands resting in his lap, he looked more dead than alive. It was a good thing they were getting out of here now, because after six days of trying to cope with injury, illness, and impossible stress and responsibility, it was only a matter of time before - Oh, wait... Daniel. Yes. That was it.

Suddenly realizing the source of her worry, she gave the Colonel a quick nod and moved over to Daniel. "Just let me check him out one more time, Sir." Crouching next to Daniel and putting her flashlight on the ground, she gently placed both hands on his face, at his temples. "Hey, Daniel. Sorry about the cold hands. How are you doing?"

The only response was a wheezy gasp and a slight nod. Didn't matter; she'd known the answer before she had even asked the question. It was an inane pleasantry she probably should have kept to herself, given that the energy required to falsely reassure her was more than what reasonably could be expected of him at that point. Work on the final glyph hadn't been completed until well past dusk, by which time they had used all the remaining compazine and demerol. As soon as it was done and confirmed - as soon as the original shape of the final glyph was confirmed to be incorporated within the symbols Daniel had felt were the correct ones, and the resultant representation of Cra was actually located on the DHD itself - Daniel had all but completely decompensated. In a collapse reminiscent of, but not quite as brutal as his earlier catharsis up in the village, he had succumbed to the stress by curling up into as small a ball as the pain in his chest would allow and pulling the plug on the rest of the world.

They had all agreed - waiting until morning was out of the question. It was time to go planet-hopping. Final destination, Earth, by way of Oannes and Cimmeria. But not quite yet, because now Sam knew they had missed something very important, a crucial piece of planning. "Daniel? Look at me?" He opened his eyes, and she tilted his head up a bit so she could see his face in the light. She caught the immediate, equal contraction of his pupils as the harsh flashlight beam fell across his face.

Satisfied, she wormed her hands up under his shirt. As she gently palpated Daniel's sternum and rib cage, barely using enough pressure to indent his skin, he squeezed his eyes closed and gasped again, flinching slightly. Muttering her regret and a quiet warning, she placed her hands on either side of the centre of his chest, slid them out to either side along his ribcage and carefully squeezed, very slightly compressing his chest inward. Her stomach twisted and she felt faintly dizzy at the sickening sensation, the snap and give, under her hands. The queasiness abruptly intensified as Daniel's hips bucked and his legs kicked out weakly in involuntary reaction to the pain. She immediately withdrew her hands. Taking deep breaths as she smoothed his t-shirt back into place, Sam promised both Daniel and herself that was the last time she would need to do that. He didn't acknowledge her apology.

She rose and walked the few steps over to the Colonel and Teal'c. Not quite sure how to say what she knew O'Neill might not want to hear, she resorted to some temporary filler. "It doesn't look like he's actually worse physically, Sir. The give in his chest feels the same as it did before. We already know some of the symptoms he had before with his head seem to have cleared a bit over the last day or so, and he's managed to keep down at least some fluids. Still pretty dehydrated, though. I think it's just that he's not able to fight it anymore."

"Carter, is there some special reason for this unsolicited medical update?" O'Neill's words were spoken quietly, but with enough sarcasm and force that she knew she had made an error in not just spitting it out. "Once we get him home, Fraiser can do all sorts of exams and spout enough jargon to last you a while. She might even let you watch the icky stuff." He stared at her, clearly annoyed at the delay. "We need to get going."

"Yes, Sir. But Daniel... he can't go, Sir."

She found herself on the receiving end of incredulous looks from both her team members. O'Neill's vehement, "What?" was quickly followed by Teal'c's, "For what reason?"

She shifted nervously and looked behind her, at Daniel, as she spoke. "If we go dragging him around through wormholes, I'm worried we'll be placing him at risk. We don't really know what's wrong in his chest, but it's pretty clear something's given way. And we don't know how long we'd need to stay on Cimmeria before we get hold of the Sagan Box and the SGC responds."

"Oh, well, right then. So we'll just stay here. Maybe put up some curtains, a little paint, dig a swimming pool - Dammit, Carter!"

O'Neill looked over her shoulder and cursed, and she followed his concerned gaze. Daniel was obviously aware there was some sort of serious discussion going on. Trying to sit up straighter, his attention clearly on the three of them, he was having trouble getting himself rearranged. Sam placed a hand on O'Neill's chest as he tried to go around her, to go help. She spoke as quickly as she could, to get the rest of it out before he moved any closer to Daniel.

"If the wormhole opens, I think just two of us should go through, Sir. The Cimmerians aren't exactly technologically advanced. Other than offering us a place to hang out, they can't help him any more than we can. Until we get back to Earth, taking Daniel with us isn't going to change his situation. Except that if we get a rough ride he may pop a rib or something worse, with all the activity."

"Major Carter. I believe it was yourself who indicated the former host Kendra was proficient with a Goa'uld healing device."

The Colonel had a definite 'yeah, so there' look on his face, and Teal'c wasn't exactly lacking in the smug department either. They both looked down their noses at her and moved to walk around her, and she quickly sidestepped to stay in their path. She wanted to yell at them to just listen to her, but for Daniel's sake she kept her voice and her rising anxiety under control. "That's taking an unnecessary risk, Teal'c. He'd be safer just staying here."

With an appreciative glance at Teal'c, O'Neill nodded and looked almost cheerful. "We all go together, Carter. Teal'c can help him through." As Teal'c tilted his head in the affirmative, he added, "You're worrying about nothing. Teal'c has a good idea. As much as I hate snakestuff, we can always take him to Kendra if we need to. But we won't need to."

In her mind she saw Daniel hurtle out of the 'gate on Oannes, hit the stone dais with a sickening thud, roll down the steps and onto the ground... geysers of gases erupting into flames - No. No way. She was right. She wanted to throttle both of them for their shortsightedness. "Well, we're going to Oannes first, and the Cimmeria 'gate isn't exactly in Kendra's living room. So that works only if we find her before he drowns in his own blood when his ribs shred his lungs. I don't recall mention of any sarcophagus on Cimmeria, do you, Sir? Besides, we don't even know if the healing device fixes anything worse than a broken wrist, in the first place."

She barely had time to acknowledge the vague stirrings of guilt over her cruel choice of words. Grim-faced and obviously angry, the Colonel stood frozen in place for a moment before he pushed her in the shoulder, spinning her away from him, and marched on past. Teal'c's frown settled back into his usual impassive mask as he slowly stepped forward with her to watch the Colonel kneel on the ground next to Daniel. When he spoke to Daniel, it was with a soft enough voice that she and Teal'c had to move closer in order to hear.

"Hey, Daniel. When the wormhole opens, I'm going to send Teal'c and Carter through. You and I will stay here."

Daniel looked up at him. The word, "Why?" came out in a faint rush of air, laden with confusion and worry.

Sam hurriedly joined them. "Sorry, Daniel. We should have thought of this sooner. We don't want to run the risk of hurting you, going through the wormholes. We can go, and bring back a rescue stretcher. We have Earth's address, so it would be a quick one-way ride for you."

He closed his eyes briefly and reached out for her with one shaky hand as he tried to take a deep breath and failed, with unpleasant consequences. She grabbed hold of his forearm, offering support in the form of a steady grip as he struggled to catch his breath. His voice was as unsteady as his hand, and his eyes pleaded with them. "Sam, please. I, I really... I don't want to stay here."

Oh, Daniel. She felt her heart drop about six inches in her chest. This was hard. How could she sit here and calmly tell him it was for the best that he stay here, after all this planet had meant for him. In a surprisingly insightful speech, the Colonel's soft voice offered Daniel the reassurance she was having trouble finding the words to deliver.

"I'll be here with you. Look, I know you want off this rock, we all do. God knows, Daniel, you deserve to get up and be the first to walk through that 'gate. But hey, you know she's right." A soft smile lit his words with a mild touch of humour. "No matter about Carter going on and on about wormhole physics... what, something to do with the velocity of in-one-end ought to equal that of out-the-other or some other garbage-in garbage-out thing... we all know we can't predict when the wormhole is going to do an imitation of a wood chipper. I'm going to stay here with you, and they'll be back with help before we know it."

Daniel visibly relaxed, giving in to the logic and the sentiment behind it. "Yeah, okay." As O'Neill stood, Daniel suddenly took a pretty successful stab at a grin and reached out to take a swipe at his pant leg. "Jack, tell me you don't want them to leave us here because you want to see..."

Sam had no idea of what he was talking about but the Colonel obviously did, as he quickly stooped down and cut Daniel off with a short laugh and a playful almost-cuff to the side of his head. "Oh, been there, done that. Not a pretty sight. And when we get home, I'm going to get t-shirts made up and hand them out."

T-shirts... oh! Now she understood. Grinning, she shared in the joke with them, gently poking Daniel on the arm. "Hey, right. Go Big Or Go Home, right?"

Both of their heads turned as one and they stared at her, no trace of humour or camaraderie anywhere in sight. Also as one, two serious voices flatly pronounced, "Wrong." Which didn't end the intense staring.

Confused, she stood up and backed away, muttering over her shoulder to Teal'c, "Uhm, do you know what's going on? What did I say? "

He stood at her shoulder, one eyebrow raised as he looked from O'Neill to Daniel and then at her. "I do not. As to what you said, I believe you offered a choice between some sort of enlargement and a return to one's domicile. Perhaps it was the inexplicability of your words which provoked such a reaction."

"Teal'c that's not what it...." Sam sighed, all too willing to give up on it. "Never mind that now. We should get ready to go."

He joined her as she moved toward the DHD. "As O'Neill and Daniel Jackson often say, you will explain later?"

"No. Teal'c. I don't think I will." She placed a hand on his arm. "Let's just go home, okay?"

Oh damn shit damn. As the chevrons winked out of existence yet again, Jack felt his knees go weak and concentrated upon setting a good example in successfully remaining upright. As long as he didn't look back, as long as he avoided the sight of Daniel's overwhelming despair, he figured he might be up to the challenge.

Uneven, dragging footsteps, crunching and shuffling on the dirt slowly approaching, were evidence he wasn't the only one feeling a bit on the unsteady side. Carter appeared out of the gloom, the expression on her face so close to the one he was so studiously trying to avoid that it was almost his undoing. Her flashlight dangled carelessly from where she had attached it to her vest, casting an irregularly bobbing light in advance of her. Upon reaching his side, she dragged a hand through her hair and didn't meet his eyes.

As a distraught cry of denial carried across to them, they both turned, equally reluctantly, toward its origin. Toward where Teal'c and Daniel sat with the laptop. Where Teal'c was just in the process of saving the computer from an untimely demise at the hands of a very upset Daniel. Jack watched dumbfounded as Daniel violently pounded his fists on the keyboard and hit out at the screen, breaking the hinge, and then, moving far more quickly than Jack thought the man would be able to at this point, grabbed the whole thing up and went to hurl it away from him. Teal'c neatly fielded it just as Jack's legs responded to his brain and he moved forward.

He and Carter arrived at the same time, almost tripping over one another as they both aimed for the same single square foot of ground space next to Daniel. The young man sat bent forward, his head down, both arms hugging his chest. He rocked back and forth noticeably. Jack found the irregular, vaguely moaning, noises coming from him alarming. Ominous. Placing a hand on Daniel's shoulder, he was dismayed at the vehemence with which the young man tried to pull away from his touch. He looked over at Teal'c, who was studiously attempting to close the cracked top of the computer without doing damage to the one remaining, albeit barely intact, hinge. "Teal'c?"

The Jaffa continued to fiddle with the laptop. Jack sorely wanted to do a Daniel-imitation, to rip it out of his hands and throw it as far away as possible. Instead, using as much control as he had left in him, he simply placed a firm hand flat on the top of the thing, effectively interfering with Teal'c's effort to lose himself in that particular avoidance activity. As Teal'c looked up at him, Jack tilted his head in Daniel's direction - who sat totally involved in primal rocking, quietly and unintelligibly mumbling to himself - and raised an eyebrow.

"We have intensively reviewed the process for identification of the first four glyphs. Daniel Jackson asserts the symbol for Cra must be correct. I told him he is in error; it simply cannot be. He... reacted unfavourably."

That was an understatement. At Teal'c's words, the rocking intensified and the quiet muttering became louder. As the sounds swelled, becoming recognizable as actual speech, Jack sat frozen in place, his own earlier feelings of worry and discouragement growing into an overpowering fear for his friend. Because Daniel was sitting there unmistakably repeating in time with the rhythmic movement of his body, the word barely penetrating a weak and faintly hysterical overlay of desperate, deprecatory laughter, "wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong..."

Alarmed and dismayed past caring about self-control, Jack found himself pushing out at Teal'c, snarling, almost babbling. "Oh way to go, way to go, fuzz-brain. Think maybe you can find a way to put a little more negative emphasis on that advice? Think you could have found a better way to doom us all here? Where the hell do you get off thinking you know better?" Carter placed a restraining hand on his arm and he angrily cast it off, swinging around to face her. "No, don't even try to tell me to settle down, Carter. Look. Just look at Daniel. You hear that? You hear what..."

Her hand reappeared on his arm and tightened, almost painfully so. Her whisper was a sibilant hiss, full of urgency. "Sir! Stop... stop." She shook his arm slightly and indicated Daniel with a quick jerk of her head.

Eyes squeezed shut, rocking, rocking, arms clasped tightly around his chest... but with his head up now, his face fully visible, chin tilted at a defiant angle and overt anger evident in the tight set of his jaw and curl of his lips, muscles clenching in his cheek -

In a low tense whisper, Daniel was talking to him. "Jack, ssshhh. Shut up. Can't think. Jack, listen, it's wrong... shut up, shut up..."

Okay. Shut up it was. Carter transferred her hand to Daniel's shoulder. "Okay, Daniel. It's okay. We're listening."

In amongst the tormented to and fro, Daniel's head nodded in acknowledgment. But then his eyes abruptly flew open and he jerked forward, both hands flying out in front of him in an instinctive effort to break a fall as he pitched head first toward the ground. Jack barely managed to catch him before Daniel could end up flat on his face. Held in place by Jack's hands on his chest, Daniel sat pushed back onto his haunches, his hands splayed out on the ground, fingers spasmodically clawing at the dirt. A line of red-tinged spit appeared on his chin as he managed to grind out, "Agh... sick," just a scant second before fulfilling the promise. With a shout and a convulsive backward movement which sent a sympathetic spasm of pain into Jack's own gut, Daniel violently retched and brought up a small amount of thick, slimy stuff onto both himself and Jack's hands.

Jack felt the powerful muscle spasms in Daniel's chest under his hands, and before Daniel had even recovered enough breath to give voice to the pain, Jack was on it. "Morphine... Carter, go get the med kit." She didn't hesitate, and he returned his attention to Daniel, trying to transfer his grip to anywhere else but that chest without allowing him to fall over. He was surprised when the young man's weight suddenly entirely lifted off his hands, and looked up to see Teal'c taking over the burden of supporting a still choking, hacking, Daniel.

Carter was at his side again in a flash, and gratefully he indicated she should do the honours. Amazingly enough, though, Daniel batted at her hand when she went to gain access to his upper arm. Shaking his head, he managed to stammer out an objection. "No. Hate... that stuff. Can't think straight." He folded over on himself one more time as he dry retched.

Carter persisted, trying to raise the arm of the t-shirt high enough to get a clear shot at the muscle, but Daniel pulled his arm away and with a push of his legs, propelled himself back sharply enough that he effectively deposited himself right in Teal'c's lap. Teal'c wrapped strong arms around him, and there was nowhere else to go after that. Jack swore in frustration as Carter hesitated, sitting back on her heels instead of diving in for the kill.

"No. I won't force it on him." She gazed squarely at Jack, her expression a complex mixture of old guilt, immense sadness, and new determination. Frustrated and tired of the whole mess, he wanted to snatch the syringe out of her hand and do it himself, but the innate rightness of her words held him back. She seemed to see that realization dawn on him, and gave him a fleeting smile before turning to Daniel. "Okay. Daniel, it's okay. We'll put it away for the time being."

Teal'c bent his head down, softly speaking into Daniel's ear. Jack didn't catch what was said, but he couldn't miss the effect of the words. Daniel nodded, closed his eyes, and made a visible effort to relax his breathing and his body, sagging slightly in Teal'c's arms and leaning his head back against the strong chest behind him. Jack spread his hands apart in a request for information and with a droll expression on his face, Teal'c gave it to him. "I advised him that should he persist in this behavior and continue to appear to require the medication, it would soon be myself he must deal with rather than Captain Carter. I advised meditation."

Ah. That was good. It certainly seemed to work. Daniel lay passively in Teal'c's embrace, obviously doing his best to comply. If he was going to refuse the hypo, this had to be the next best thing. "Oh, all right. Way to go, Teal'c."

Teal'c frowned. "O'Neill, have I erred?"

"Ahh, what?" Jack didn't understand what the heck Teal'c meant by that, but it seemed Carter did because she let out a slight chuckle. Daniel evidently, even in his condition, had more surviving brain cells than Jack himself, because he followed up on the chuckle with a faint snort of his own, jerking forward slightly as the quick exhalation obviously hurt.

And it was Daniel who answered Teal'c's question. Laying one hand over Teal'c's own on his chest, Daniel curled up his lips at one corner and gave Teal'c's hand a sloppy pat. "No, no. That was fine, Teal'c. I'll explain later."

If anything, Teal'c's frown intensified, and as Carter's clearly strained laugh tinkled over him Jack was thoroughly lost as to what the problem was. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know. It was pretty clear that unless he was going to figure it out for himself, he wasn't about to find out, as Carter changed the subject. He willingly let it go as she leaned closer to Daniel, placing the syringe in her jacket pocket. "Daniel, can you talk to us now? What was it you needed to say?"

Daniel rolled his head against Teal'c's chest, looking up behind him at the Jaffa. A grimace crossed his features and he visibly bit down hard on his lower lip. Jack winced at the sight of red appearing on Daniel's teeth. Closing his eyes, Daniel brought his head back around to face forward. "Ugh. So dizzy. God, Sam, isn't this ever going to go away?"

Jack knew the answer to that one. "Yes, of course it is, Danny. As soon as we get you home, Doc Fraiser will stick tubes into, out of, and up and down every hole you've got and then poke some new holes. And then you'll feel much better."

Daniel's voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Gee, thanks, Jack." He'd re-opened the split in his lip, and Jack watched as a small trickle of fresh blood made it's way down to his chin, where it deviated to follow his jawline for an inch or so before tracking on down his neck.

"Daniel, we'll get you home. We'll figure it out, together." Even as Jack said the words, he was aware of the strength just voicing them aloud imbued. Even though he knew it was a long shot at best, he felt better for having said it.

He was rewarded with a faint smile. "Yeah." Daniel's head cautiously rolled back once again, and looked up at Teal'c's face. Both his voice and expression held sincere apology. "Teal'c, I'm sorry, I know you were just trying to help, but you're wrong. It isn't Cra."

Carter broke in. "But Daniel, the address craps out at the fifth glyph, and we know that one is right. Bootes and Eridanus are the first and second glyphs and Equuleus is the fourth, and they're all located in the right spots on the DHD, so it has to be Cra."

Daniel began to shake his head in an assertive contradiction of what she had just said. Jack reached out, allowing his flailing hand to find an anchor as the young man reeled wildly from obvious vertigo, once again showing signs of nausea. They waited for it to settle. Still gasping, his hand cold and dry in Jack's grip and his face twisted with effort and worry, Daniel tried again, this time without the head shake. "No. Sam, that's not necessarily so. Just because the symbols are in the place we most often see them... " His expression clouded further, grew more anxious. "But I was so sure. I really thought they were right."

Ahh, uh oh. Oh, shit. No, no, don't want to hear this. Carter turned to him, her eyes wide as she clearly considered the implications of Daniel's statement. "He has a point, Sir. While it doesn't happen very often, they aren't always in the same place everywhere we go. And that means..." He waved her off abruptly. He knew damn well what that meant. Don't say it. Just don't... la-la-la-la-la-la-laaa...

"While it is most likely Cra, we cannot ignore the remote possibility it could be any of them that are the wrong one, O'Neill."

Shit. Teal'c said it. Jack glared at him.

"Yes. Sir, the implications are worrisome. I agree with Teal'c that it's probably Cra, and as for the rest, well, the fifth symbol is defintely correct; it's part of the deciphered Earth address. So if the others form a valid address up to and including the fourth symbol, then if for the moment we ignore assessment of the process used to decipher the glyphs, logically it could be any of the first four symbols that don't form a valid address with Cancer."

Oy. Why was it everyone around him always felt the need to nauseatingly explain all the crappy bad stuff with such earnest persuasiveness? Jack looked at Daniel, working hard to keep his own worry off his face. "Daniel?"

Confirmation of the depth of their problem came in the form of a deeply despairing look, and the exact words Jack would not accept. "I... I don't... I can't... I just don't understand. It doesn't make any sense. I'm so sorry."

"No. No, don't apologize, Daniel. It's a glitch, like I said before. A minor glitch. We'll work it out in no time."

"Uh, actually, Sir..." Arrrggh! Carter! His head pulsed with sudden pressure and he wanted to scream at her. He thought he was, he was certain he had just blown up like a wad of detonated C4 - but evidently not, as after a moment he realized she was still talking and no one was running around in a panic with his brains all over them. "If we accept the possibility it could be any of the four of them..."

"Three. It's not Cra." Daniel's voice was barely present, but the meaning came through loud and clear. He was certain.

She placed a hand on Daniel's arm, her tone persuasive. "Okay. All right, Daniel, let's look at this, then. If we go on the assumption it's not Cra, then where do we start? It took two days to come up with this sequence, even with the computer files. And we pretty much exhausted all of what you thought were reasonable conceptual alternatives for each of the three glyphs, in doing that." Her voice became more forceful. "Except for Cra."

Daniel's face twisted and his throat constricted. It was his turn to look as though he might go off with a bang, although in this case it was clear to Jack the explosion would collapse inward rather than blow outward. Protective instincts flowing at high tide, Jack turned on Carter. "Shit, you know, he was right about you before. What the hell is your doomsday point this time, Carter?"

There was an anguished moan come from Daniel, and Teal'c's voice, loud and firm, interrupted the nastiness. "Stop this. It will not assist us." He bent his head and once again spoke infinitely softly into Daniel's ear. This time, Jack caught it. "You know she is correct. Cra is the one you had most difficulty with even beginning on, and it is also the only one of the four with which you did not consider concepts other than your initial selection."

Daniel seemed close to tears. Jack's jaw clenched so abruptly his teeth hurt. That grinding only got worse when Daniel spoke, as it became readily apparent he was actually well past that point. Jack realized only Daniel's lack of body fluids and shortness of breath had hid that fact. Gasping, his throat working convulsively, Daniel managed to choke out, "No, Teal'c, please... that's because it was right the first time. Oh, God, please. I don't... I don't understand. They're all right, all four of them... they have to be right... please believe me." Then the scant, precious fluids did make their way to his eyes, single tear tracks making their way down each cheek as Daniel closed his eyes against the skepticism directed at him.

Carter spoke equally as softly as Teal'c had. "Daniel, you know that's impossible. It isn't working." Her voice changed, became slightly louder and more assertive as she transferred her gaze to Jack. "Sir, we have to dial out, taking Daniel's incorrect glyph for Cra and sequentially replacing it with each of the other glyphs on the DHD until we get past the point where it shuts down, and then try continuing on with the ones we have. There may be quite a few which work in the third spot, but still are the wrong one. We won't be sure which is the correct one until the entire sequence is entered and remains active. But if it's just Cra we're trying to replace, it shouldn't take too long to get it. If any of the others are also incorrect, though, it won't work at all. But then at least we'll know it's either not Cra that's the problem, or it is, but there's more than just that one wrong. We'd need to start from the first glyph and try the same process of elimination."

God. And if that was the case, it could take forever to figure out. Days, weeks, months, longer. It was all too obvious to Jack neither Teal'c nor Carter were prepared to discard their disbelief in the job Daniel had done, even in the face of such a task and Daniel's desperate plea for acceptance. Considering the address clearly was wrong, Jack could understand why. As much as he wanted to demonstrate blind faith, he couldn't. One or more of the glyphs weren't right, it wasn't working; that spoke for itself. And if Cra wasn't the problem, then what was? Having blind faith in Daniel was not something Jack would dismiss out of hand... over the last year he'd seen a few rabbits pulled alive out of flaming hats, most of them by Daniel, when it had seemed impossible. But in this case, to rely on blind faith in contravention of the facts when standing on the edge of a cliff - To accept Daniel's assurances about Cra meant they had an infinitely worse problem, and no where to go to try to solve it.

Shit. Carter's suggestion about Cra looked like the best they had, but unless they lucked out, it would take at least a few hours. But the alternative would take longer - like, forever. He turned to Carter, his gut hardening at having to say it aloud. "Okay. All right. So we have to start with Cra, then." Daniel simply opened his eyes, looked at him for a few seconds, and closed them again. Jack wasn't entirely sure who he had just stabbed through the heart, himself or Daniel. Probably both. Yeah. Definitely, both. He placed a few fingers on Daniel's face and tapped gently on his cheek. "Daniel? I know how sick you feel, but it would be great if we could find some short cuts here. Do you think you can manage to help us with that?"

The sense of betrayal was huge. Overwhelming. Daniel jerked away from the soft touch on his cheek. Once again, as it had just over two weeks earlier, their lack of faith in him cut deeply. He hadn't given up then - the fate of Earth had hinged upon him forcing the issue - but this was different. The only thing which, as an absolute certainty, hinged upon making them listen to him now was his own survival. The others had time. There were plenty of supplies for the three of them; Carter could bang away methodically at the DHD for weeks. And while there was time for them, there was hope.

But he didn't have time. Especially not time to waste on fruitless chases after solutions to non-existent problems. Cra was correct. Daniel could understand Teal'c's resistance; the Jaffa had been with him through deciphering the other glyphs and knew just how many variations they had needed to try before hitting upon a conceptualization which yielded symbols found on the DHD. But with Cra, not only had Teal'c had seen that process greatly abbreviated, but they'd had some initial difficulty in making a connection between the concept and the symbols.

Sam... well, Daniel had been there, done that. He knew Sam's objections were based upon her preference to place her trust in linear thinking. While she intellectually understood his rationale for the process he used to do the glyphs, Daniel knew she still didn't entirely buy into the underlying assumptions he had made, and certainly the leaps of faith and intuition he used in pulling it off were a source of worry for her. She saw the end result, it wasn't working, and was opting for systematic reconstructive surgery rather than intuitive diagnosis in dealing with the problem.

Jack was another story all together. Jack had been there at his side, had seen the individual pieces slot together perfectly, so very elegantly, to form Cra. Jack had to know it was right, he had to... but he'd just thrown it all away. Daniel heard the soft whine as Carter booted up the laptop, heard Jack repeat his request for Daniel to help, and this time it wasn't bile which rose in Daniel's throat. It was bitterness. They were wasting his precious time

Daniel felt the breath-stealing heaviness on his chest, the pounding in his head, sensed the nausea waiting to pounce once again should the precarious balance between he and his surroundings waver, to tip and slide off-centre. He was all too aware of the tingling in his arms and legs, the hollow feeling in his gut, and the immense weakness which dragged him down, stealing his ability to so much as care for his own basic needs. In fact, he was finally at the point where it was a damn good thing his bladder capacity was so far in excess of his fluid intake, because he was pretty sure he hadn't enough strength remaining to so much as manage to expose himself, never mind sit up and aim straight.

So... help them? How? As if they needed his help to systematically work their way around the glyph panels in a totally doomed attempt to find a working replacement for Cra. If he'd had the breath to laugh out loud, he would have. If they were dead set on using the time he had left in this way, then he figured maybe his best way to use it was to just lay there, maybe try to drop off to sleep. That would be just as productive an activity as what they were planning on doing.

He felt Jack's hand drop to his shoulder, heard him repeat the question, elaborating on the request this time. "Daniel? Come on, buddy, open your eyes for a second here. There must be other interpretations of Cra we could work through. Some way to try to reduce the number of possibilities."

When he didn't respond, a shake of his shoulder drove a pain through his chest and a spike of anger through his gut. Jack wanted him to open his eyes, did he? Daniel figured it wasn't just him who had them closed in the first place. Okay, fine. He could open some eyes. He would. Snapping his own eyes open, ignoring as best he could the way the light from the lanterns and Jack himself twisted and flipped and tipped, Daniel didn't even try to soften the bitterness in his voice. "Me open my eyes, Jack? I don't think that's going to be much help, when it's the three of you who are blind. I can't help you with finding an alternative to Cra. There isn't one."

There was a quick and vehement exhalation of air from Jack, and it wasn't possible to miss the increased tension in Teal'c's body as he stiffened behind him. Daniel both felt and heard the man's disapproval as Teal'c's voice vibrated against his back and rumbled into his ear. "You would refuse to assist us? Daniel Jackson, unless we are able to correct the error within the next day, it seems likely your condition will advance to the point where you may not survive."

"Teal'c..."

Daniel interrupted Jack. "No, Jack. It doesn't go away just because you don't talk about it." He tried to turn his head so he could at least direct his voice over his shoulder to Teal'c, but it was too much of an effort. He ended up with a compromise, his head turned to one side, his cheek resting against Teal'c's chest. He closed his eyes again and struggled to keep his voice steady. "I... not even a day, Teal'c. I, ah, I think it would be pretty hard to reverse this trend now. No matter how much I want to live, I'm pretty sure not even Apophis coming through that 'gate could get me up off my ass."

There was a period of silence which seemed to stretch out so far that were it not for the warmth and strong support of Teal'c behind him, Daniel might have thought his teammates were no longer there. It was broken by the same deep vibration at his back and rumble in his ear, this time minus the judgment; a simple a statement of fact. "Apophis is dead."

Daniel smiled against the fabric of Teal'c's jacket, knowing full well what struck him as amusing would only be disconcerting to the others. He said it anyway, because it was the truth. "Yeah. Well, just goes to show you, not even the appearance of the living dead is going to stir this tired old body."

Sam's voice sounded odd, strained and kind of uneven. Daniel didn't open his eyes to check to see if it was out of fear, sadness, or irritation. Or some combination thereof. He didn't want to know. "All the more reason to get going on fixing Cra, Daniel. If you can work on some alternative concepts while I make my way around the DHD, we'll be increasing our chances of finding the solution. And the sooner we get it figured out, the sooner you get medical attention."

Hurt and anger reasserted themselves and he couldn't help but point out again, "No, not the way you want to do it, Sam. If you want to waste time and energy on that, well, you'll just need to do it by yourself."

"Oh, Christ." There was a small explosion of sound from directly in front of Daniel as Jack suddenly moved away from him and spoke angrily. Daniel knew Jack had gotten up and was probably pacing, as his voice seemed to move back and forth. "Okay, Daniel. So what other suggestions do you have? What? We should take the other three and start from scratch, do them all over again? If you don't like what Carter wants to do, then come up with a viable alternative."

Daniel squeezed his eyes closed more tightly, burrowing his head into Teal'c's chest. Something powerfully nasty was writhing in his stomach, building in his chest, tightening a band of tension around his throat. A viable alternative. His definition of viable and theirs clearly was not necessarily the same, but even so, he wished he had an alternative to suggest, irrespective of whose perspective on viability was used. He didn't understand. Cra was correct, and he'd already done all he could with the others...

It was Teal'c who answered, and at his words Daniel felt himself painfully squeezed between a rock and a hard place, the inward collapse of the outside world rushing to meet with the relentlessly building pressure from within. "Multiple alternatives were explored in the search for the first three glyphs, O'Neill. It is my opinion they must be correct. Their placement on the DHD further supports this likelihood. In any event, if any of them are incorrect, it is highly unlikely we have the necessary information in the Altarian language database to explore viable further possibilities for them. We have no choice but to pursue Cra."

Oh, this was so, so much bullshit. Cra was correct. It was almost impossible to breathe. The crushing swell reached his head now, the pressure forcing his heartbeat to thrum wildly in his ears and pulse behind his eyeballs. But for the inward compression of the rest of the world, it felt as though his head would explode. It had to be one of the others, but he hadn't the faintest idea where to start. He was lost, unable to deal with that on his own. If only they would believe him, would help him to figure out where he had really gone wrong instead of insisting upon destroying what he'd done right -

Through the rising drumbeat in his head, he heard Sam add her advice. "I agree, Sir. I don't know how Daniel could... never mind. Cra is the only way to go. It's undeniable."

It was his undoing.

"No!" Pitching forward, eyes opening, hands going up to his head to hold in what he was sure was about to messily pop right out with the increase in pressure, he practically screamed at her. "You're wrong! You need to listen to me, why do you people have to deny, to destroy, everything you don't understand?" Daniel wavered precariously on his rear, his heels digging into the ground in front of him the only thing which kept him from overbalancing into a spectacular face-plant into the dirt. The absence of Teal'c's arms on his own, or any other support from the others, dimly registered. Pain flared, the unpleasant snap seizing into a prolonged catch of fire in the centre of his chest. He sagged back against Teal'c and felt the Jaffa move ever so slightly back away from him. It was not a removal of physical support, but something worse - an undeniable withdrawal of the comfort which had been freely offered up until this point.

He felt fingers grasp his chin, turn his head, and he found himself staring into Sam's eyes. There was hurt there, and a glimmer of tears, but her voice was rock solid. "That's out of line, Daniel. I always thought we people were your friends. And we don't destroy things just because we don't understand them." He wanted to tell her he knew that... that what he'd actually said was not exactly what he'd meant, but she continued on. "We try to figure out what we don't understand, and that's exactly what we're doing now. What we've just done."

At the last part of what she said, the air burst out of him in a sharp snort of disagreement which he couldn't have contained even if he had wanted to. His chest spasmed, preventing anything but a single word in response. "No..."

Her fingers tightened on his chin. "You ask why we deny what we don't understand? Well, the answer is, we don't. But now I have a question for you, Daniel. Why can't you ever accept anyone's view but your own? Why is it you're the one who's always right?"

Daniel wasn't sure what hurt most, her criticism, the pain in his head and chest, or the certain knowledge that even if he capitulated and falsely agreed about the glyph, there was no way it was going to change anything. Carefully gathering and controlling enough breath to ask for final confirmation, he looked over her shoulder, trying to locate Jack. He saw a vaguely black form against the darkness, out of reach of the beam of the light, and aimed his words in that direction in the off chance it was him. "Are you going to rework Cra?"

A single word, harsh and unyielding, came out of the blackness. "Yes."

Oh, Jack, no. "Can someone help me look elsewhere for the problem?"

This time the voice came from behind him. "I will help you explore alternatives for Cra."

Oh, God, please. No matter how many heads worked on Cra, the only possible end result was failure. And by the time they figured that out, he'd be past the point of being able to work on anything else. Not that he knew what the hell else there was to work on. This was impossible. He simply didn't know where to look, what to do. It was all over. It took a moment to dig rational thought out of the morass of disappointment and fear which immobilized his mind, only to come to the realization this was a pain he was no longer willing to bear. Tilting his chin upward, twisting his head slightly to indicate his rejection of the fingers still on his face, he forced himself to remain outwardly calm as he spoke, full well knowing they wouldn't miss the implication in the few words he managed to spit out.

"Hurts. Need morphine."

He heard Sam's quick intake of air, felt Teal'c tense up and then immediately draw back from him. Daniel's surface calm dissolved in the stunned silence which surrounded him. He felt his face twist, his jaw spasm, and knew it was coming despite his best efforts to hold it back. How could he not cry? The combination of disappointment in them for delivering what was essentially a death sentence and his hatred of himself for his weakness, for his willingness to desert them in favour of a drugged stupor, was enough to reduce anyone to tears.

It didn't happen, though. Instead, just as the intense nausea had done so many times, the feeling of distress grew and expanded until it filled his whole being. He hovered on the very edge of total desperation, praying for release in either direction - to regain control or to lose it completely; which one it would be, was not even important. He wasn't sure how long it was he struggled with it, how much time passed before the voice once again came out of the dark to shatter the last tenuous remains of hope.

"Give it to him, Carter."

Sam's face appeared in front of his own. He was sure he saw reproach there and closed his eyes so as not to have to look at it. "Daniel, are you sure?" Amazingly, the censure didn't come across through her voice. For a second he wondered if he had imagined it. But he couldn't, wouldn't, have imagined it, because he knew it represented the only thing she could possible feel for him right then. He was abandoning them. Guilt and defeat ate up his answer before the words could even make it to his mouth and the best he could do was to nod, dumbly.

Warm hands adjusted his clothing and grasped his upper arm. He felt Teal'c's arms strongly encircle him as the sting of the drug sent fire into his shoulder. He heard Teal'c tell him he'd stay there with him until he fell asleep... and the guilt increased to almost unbearable proportions. And then as he realized he was glad he hadn't been left alone this time, shame swamped him, grew arms which usurped those of his friend and enveloped him in an embrace devoid of comfort and warmth. He floundered, vainly trying to combat it, but memories and visions of better times, of gains and successes, were quickly trampled and negated by those of sorrowful events, of losses and failures. Sha're, Skarra, the destruction of the Hammer, Hathor - ugh - the dispute over the Cor-ai, Senator Kinsey, oh, double ugh...

He heard the dull sound of the glyph panels and the chunk of the 'gate chevrons, followed by the low whine as the DHD powered down, the address not valid. He heard soft murmurs of conversation between Sam and Jack at the DHD, and the process repeated. Again and again. Absently, he wondered what it would be like for them if by some incredible miracle it actually worked, if the 'gate opened for them. The thrill of success. He'd be happy for them. He'd like to be happy for them... A swirl of colour appeared in the black behind his closed eyelids and he tracked it for a few seconds until it faded into a dim grey blur. He felt the ground under him and the person behind him moving, drifting, following along with his eyeballs. Success... suk-sess... sucksses Sucks. Majorly sucks. The agony of defeat.

The pain and pressure in his chest and head slowly receded to be replaced with an ambiguously uncomfortable, hazy sensation of fullness. The repeated sounds of the 'gate and the DHD softened and blurred, becoming almost indistinguishable from the dull roar in his ears. With his limbs full of heat and so heavy as to be completely immovable, he lay against Teal'c and drifted. After some unknown amount of time, he thought perhaps the DHD and 'gate had fallen silent, but he really couldn't tell for sure.

Through an escalating distortion of time and space and increasing drowsiness, he heard and felt Teal'c's heartbeat, and once in a while he became curious about the intermittent slight stirring lower down against the small of his back. Ah, Junior. Upon finally being able to hold a train of thought long enough to recognize the source of that subtle prodding, it occurred to him it was actually four beings he had deserted through this surrender. The dense muzziness had taken full control, and even that dismal thought was not enough to pull him back from the edge of the deep black hole which opened up beneath him.

Vague awareness of what might be the 'gate chevrons and sudden strident voices filtered through the dense blanket of insensibility settling over him. A sudden jarring against his back, renewed pain in his chest, and an accompanying dizzying sense of abrupt movement coincided with a seemingly familiar yet not entirely comprehensible noise. The Stargate? A wormhole? Sucks-ess? Not even that was enough to pull him back from willingly toppling over the brink into darkness.

Go on to part eight

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