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dragonfly11***
"As it is not proper to cure the eyes without the head, nor the head without the body, so neither is it proper to cure the body without the soul."
- Loomis
***
Part III- The Race
The wind had died down as quickly as it had raged, swallowing the light in its retreat. And the silence in the hut was just as deafening as the single shot that rang out from Jack’s 9millimeter.
Handez lay slumped against the wall, the now silent artifact still loosely grasped within his hand. The only mourners of his death were the crimson tears that slid down his face.
Jack wasted no time reaching Daniel, his mask thrown to the merciless floor on the way. “Daniel?” He wanted to cradle him, lift him up in his arms and carry him out of this hell, but he was afraid to touch him. Not an inch of him looked spared and the last thing he wanted was to cause his friend more pain. “I’m here, Daniel. I’m here,” he whispered, lightly cupping his feverish cheek.
But Daniel just stared on.
Jack’s heart plummeted when he saw the absence of Daniel in his best friend’s eyes. “It’s okay. It’s safe to come out now. Come on, Danny… please. Look at me,” he begged. It was what he had feared. Daniel’s mind had resorted to seeking comfort within itself…and Jack was left holding its broken armor.
Of all the things Janet thought to pack, there was nothing in her care package that could fix this.
“Damnit, Daniel,” Jack whispered dejectedly, gently pulling his friend up and cradling him to his cheek. The same thing he’d done with Charlie after…
Daniel lay limp against him. His only reaction was the slight rise and fall of his chest—oblivious to the fact that tears soaked his face, tears that were not his own.
Handez’s words echoed in Jack’s mind. You are too late. His soul is already lost to him. “No,” he cried as he began to rock him. No. He couldn’t be too late. He couldn’t.
No longer concerned about his broken body, Jack held the limp form in his arms tighter—as if sheer will could bring the gentle soul back to him. He had pretended for too long, had sought comfort behind the mask for far too long. And Daniel would never know. His body would absorb the words, but they would never reach his heart.
When the radiation had poisoned Daniel’s body, Jack had told him that he “admired” him. Though it was the truth, it was only a fraction of it. He had closed up as quickly and as pathetically as he had opened up. And when Daniel had died…ascended…whatever, he left…Jack had held onto his belief that a man could survive anything in this world, as long as there was a world in which to survive on.
It was this belief that had pushed him through the abrupt mission that followed Daniel’s death. It was this belief that had refused to let him mourn. It was this belief…that left him cradling the husk of a man he regarded as a friend, a brother…maybe even a son—who would never know. Because ultimately, it was this belief that had prevented him from admitting the truth to himself, and to Daniel.
The truth… that the world he fought for, sought comfort on, and even hid behind in the shadows of his beliefs, was not nearly as precious as the one he held in his arms. Let the universe claim the world, he thought. He didn’t care. Just as long as they left him his.
It’s hard to say when Daniel had wiggled his way into Jack’s heart. It’s hard to say why it frightened Jack so much. All he knew was that, when Daniel descended, Daniel wasn’t the only one given yet another chance, and damnit Jack wasn’t going to let either of them give up on it just yet.
He could here Cornelius yelling for him, but he ignored it as he held Daniel against his chest. Tucking his head in the crook of his neck, Jack took his battered hand in his. He’d gotten Daniel’s soul back after his addiction to the sarcophagus…and he was going to get it back again. He was going to get it back now.
~*~SGI~*~
***
‘Til the storms fill my eyes
and we touch the last time
I will love you, love you…”
-Fisher
***
He awoke in the dream, screaming Jack’s name and clutching reality to his heart. Looking up at Sha’uri, he noticed tears, silent in their descent to the desert floor. He barely got out her name before she turned away from him and covered her face.
“Please stay,” she cried.
Getting up, he wanted to run to her, pull her into his embrace and tell her everything would be okay. Instead, he just stood there, a breath behind her. “Sha’uri, I don’t understand this. I don’t know what this is…but I know it’s not real.” It couldn’t be. He thought, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. I watched you die. I held your broken body. I…I buried you. Tears filled his eyes now and threatened release. They all died because of me.
“Yes, it is my husband,” she sobbed, turning around to face him and raising her voice to be heard over the approaching sand storm. “It is in here.” Gently she pressed her hand over the side of his head. “You brought us here, my Danyel.”
He didn’t know what had brought him here. Didn’t know what had happened to Jack, Sam or Teal’c either but he had to find out. Something was terribly wrong. Nothing good could have brought him here. But he couldn’t remember what had happened. Did they get captured by a Goa’uld? Was he given the Blood of Sokar? Did they stumble upon another Game Keeper?
Was he in a coma? Was he dead? Oh God…not again. Jack was gonna be pissed, he thought. But no, that couldn’t be it. He’s been dead and dead has never felt so… good...free. Pushing aside the disgust that he would, yet again, need to unpack all his stuff and, yet again, need to find a new place to live after, yet again, coming back from the dead, Daniel took in a shaky breath and tried to clear his mind.
Suddenly, he could hear Jack calling for him, but as he look down at Sha’uri to see if she heard it too, he realized that he didn’t so much hear it, as he did feel it. He could sense the desperation in his voice as he begged him to come back…to remember, and it gave him the strength he needed.
Cupping her face, his mind knew what he had to do. The hard part was convincing his heart to say it. When he had first woke up and saw her standing over him crying, he had toyed with the idea of staying. This was after all, all he ever wanted. But watching her now as he gently wiped away her tears, a painful realization hit him. It was all he ever wanted…but he needed more. He needed it to be real.
And as much as he wanted to give up and live out the rest of his life in this dream…this beautiful dream, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave his friends again, and he couldn’t stand by and let the world pass again without being able to touch it. After all these years, he finally knew where he belonged—with his friend…with his family, fighting the good fight.
Even if it meant trading a lifetime of happiness in for a universe of pain, Daniel solemnly thought, as he prepared to say goodbye to forever…again.
Stroking the cheek Daniel would never again feel the warmth of, he sobbed, “I’m sorry, Sha’uri…but I have to go.”
“No, my Danyel, please,” she pleaded, grabbing his robe.
The words caught in his throat, but he choked them out. “…and I’m sorry, Sha’uri. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I was never able to give you the life we dreamed.
“But Danyel, you can,” she cried. “Just stay with me, please, my husband…stay with me,” she begged, burying her head in his chest.
He cursed the truth that now plagued his heart and cursed it again for making her cry.
“I can’t,” he whispered, pulling her away from his body and cupping her face again in his hands. “It wouldn’t be real. This isn’t real…” He could barely see her through his own, now flowing tears, so he just pulled her back into his arms and held on tight. “It’s just a memory, Sha’uri. A memory dancing with hope.” Even as he said it, he clutched the memory tighter. Breathing in her scent, he tried to memorize the feeling of her pressed against him. “I love you, Sha’uri….I love you,” he cried, as he desperately tasted her lips for what he knew would be the last time.
Salty tears soaked through the passion of their final kiss…already leaving them mourning in each other’s embrace….
Suddenly, he was torn from her grip by the raging sand storm and tossed into the merciless winds. Below, he watched as she stood there; unmoving. No longer protected by the tent, yet untouched by the winds, whispering goodbye, as she faded from his sight.
Goodbye…
Memories were assaulting him now…and he remembered everything, including the pain. Pain…so much pain. “Jack…Jack! Help me!” he screamed into the raging winds, but was only rewarded with a mouthful of sand. Sand that hit him with such a force, he feared there would soon be nothing left of him—that he’d end up just another grain in the blinding storm.
There was nothing for him to grab onto, nothing to ground him. He was at the storm’s mercy.
Please Jack, help me…
~*~SGI~*~
***
"I dreamed a thousand new paths,
I woke and walked my old one.”
- Chinese Proverb
***
Jack didn’t know how long he’d been holding onto Daniel, begging him to wake up, reminding him of the good times they had and how Carter would never forgive him if he didn’t come back to them, but it seemed like an eternity.
If the world could see him now…hardass military colonel lying in a heap on the floor, cradling an archeologist with his gun forgotten by his side in a middle of a mission. Years ago he would have shrugged it off as a moment of weakness. Today, however, he would say that it was his strongest moment ever. He would tell whoever saw, that a certain archeologist taught him that compassion was a gift, and the most priceless and greatest strength any human begin could possess.
He was about to reach up and close Daniel’s eyes—although he hadn’t gotten his soul back yet, he could at least protect those beautiful windows to it, when Daniel squeezed them shut and started bucking wildly in his arms.
Surprised, Jack jerked his hand back.
“Jack!” he cried from a throat that was hoarse from dehydration and pain as he grabbed blindly with his hands.
Jack grabbed his flailing arms with one hand and pulled him closer with the other, grounding him. “Ssh. Its okay, I’m here, Daniel. I’m here,” he soothed while rocking him.
Still, his friend struggled and gasped for air in the midst of desperate pleas for Jack to help him. His entire body vibrated in Jack’s arms and the only thing Jack could do was hope his presence was enough to comfort him.
Finally, Daniel stopped screaming and slowly focused on him. His eyes were wide with terror, but gradually he began to relax into him, grabbing onto Jack’s shirt like it was the only thing that kept him from slipping away again. His breath still came in quick short gasps, but at least he was calming down…at least he was back.
“Ssshh, Daniel. You’re safe…you’re safe. Just breathe. That-a-boy, easy breaths,” Jack whispered, stroking his sweat and blood stained hair back. Daniel just stared at him, unable to look away and unwilling to let go, as he trembled in his arms
“You c-caught me,” he finally managed to croak out.
Jack didn’t know what he meant, but his reply was instant. “I’ll always catch you, Danny.&rdquo
At that, Daniel closed his eyes and welcomed the peace of being safe in his arms—never letting go of the iron grip he had on him…and never noticing as Jack gently wiped away the single tear that had slipped from the, “windows to his soul,” carrying the memory…of what might have been.
~*~SGI~*~
***
“If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend,
I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.”
- E.M. Forster
***
As the fallen star slipped from consciousness, Jack tried to ignore the little voice in his head that reminded him of how many times he hadn’t been there to “catch” him. How many times he wasn’t there to prevent the younger man from getting hurt and how many times he had been there, but could do nothing more than watch.
Hell, he hadn’t even been there for the biggest one of all…his fall from grace. He should have been there. He should have been the one to catch Daniel, not some strange village people. Okay, so yes, everyone was strange to Daniel because he couldn’t remember anything. And, okay, so yes, how was Jack supposed to know that his friend was being tossed back into the corporeal plan like a slab of unwanted meat?
Still, he felt he was severely lacking in the, “Never Let Your Best Friend Down” category. God, Daniel, he thought, as he surveyed the damage done to his friend. Welts covered his body where gashes and bruises did not and all of him was coated in a thick layer of blood. Jack couldn’t even imagine what the bastard used. A belt? A two-by-four? Both?
Easing his hand around Daniel’s side, Jack cringed at the feel of ribs giving way, eliciting a heartbreaking moan from his friend. Thankfully though, he didn’t wake up. Jack knew he’d be carrying him at least part of the way, and thought it would be best for the both of them if he remained unconscious. That way, neither one would have to feel the pain Jack would unintentionally be inflicting while marching them home.
“Colonel!”
Jack looked up and saw an out-of-breath guide leaning in the doorway.
“We must go, Colonel. No doubt the Beta Camp heard the shot you fired and are on their way now.”
“Beta camp?” Jack raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, a camp used as reinforce…”
“I know what the camp is used for!” Jack snapped. “What I don’t know is why you never thought to mention it before?”
“I thought, Colonel, that we’d be out of here by now,” he replied, gesturing to the figure still cradled to Jack.
Looking down at his arms, Jack swore to himself and to the man he held in them that never again would he be so far out of reach that he wouldn’t be able to catch him again.
“There’s a bag in my pack; get it out and put that thing in it,” he commanded, tossing a glance towards the artifact. “Oh, and don’t touch it! Or…touch it as little as possible… I guess,” he finished at the horrified and confused look he got from Cornelius.
Now that the artifact was silent and secured in a thick sack around Cornelius’ shoulder, Jack tried to pry Daniel’s hand off of him. Not such an easy task, when said hand is slick with blood and you’re trying to spare the man it belonged to from more pain. Jack wished he could bandage Daniel up in and secure him in bubble wrap here, but they just didn’t have the luxury of time on their side.
Finally, Jack succeeded and received a tiny whimper for his achievement. Careful of his ribs, Jack placed Daniel in a fireman’s carry. He wished he could just carry him in his arms with his head secure against his chest, but speed and agility would suffer severely for comfort.
Making their way back under the cover of the forest, Jack knew of one person that would be able to cradle Daniel to his chest and run for dear life through a jungle. Teal’c.
// After prying himself away from Carter, he considered for a moment showing his sweet side more often. Then, maybe the ladies wouldn’t be holding onto him like he was the last piece of chocolate in the galaxy…not that the male part of him minded. It was the colonel part that worried about his image being smudged by affection.
Finally, stepping into the locker room, Jack wasn’t surprised to see Teal’c turn to face him with his arms placed, ever so Teal’c-like, behind his back.
“It is my wish to accompany you, O’Neill,” the ever stoic Jaffa stated without an ounce of uncertainty. He was the physically strongest man Jack had ever known and very protective of the young archeologist—which was why refusing his help, was going to be like trying to divert a shark that just got a scent of fresh blood.
“I know you do big guy, but Carter needs you.”
“DanielJackson needs me,” he replied unflinching.
What else could he say? They both felt the pain of having to choose between friend and country, and neither would wish it upon the other. So, Jack did the only thing he could do…he chose for him.
Grabbing his cap out of the locker, Jack stared down at it. “I know Teal’c…I know. But hey, when I bring him back, I swear he’s all yours,” he offered, looking up into the mask the Jaffa wore. “You can spoil him rotten and have your own personal leash that will match the harness the SGC is gonna spring to get him.”
He expected to see an eyebrow rise at the mention of a harness, or pure Jaffa stubbornness in the eyes looking back at him. What he didn’t expect to see, however, was a slow nod of acceptance and a single tear slipping out from underneath the mask of a warrior.
“Teal’c…” he didn’t know what to say. What could you possibly say to a man…whom you just asked to abandon his friend to save a world of strangers?
“DanielJackson is a resilient man, O’Neill.”
“Yes, he is, Teal’c.”
“Then DanielJackson is all the help you shall require in rescuing him,” Teal’c declared, as if convincing himself of this would lessen the pain of not being able to carry him all the way home himself.
Suddenly unable to speak, Jack nodded his head in agreement. Keeping his head down, he slowly made his way to the door but stopped before reaching it. “T…um…you didn’t want…um… a hug did you?” he asked, looking quite embarrassed as he glanced up at Teal’c out of the corner of his eyes. He had to be sure. He’d been passing them out like a “Blue Light Special” all day.
Jack had never, in all his snake infested life seen Teal’c’s eyebrow go up so high. Clearing his throat, he reached for the doorknob. “Just checking,” he threw over his shoulder before running away with his tail between his legs. //
Stumbling, but miraculously never losing the grip he had on his precious package, Jack wished he had let the big guy come.
Behind him he could hear shouting and knew the second camp had found the remains of the first one. Luckily his little “Forget Me Nots” should be going off any second and hopefully they’ll greatly reduce the number on their hides.
Hopefully, he could get Daniel home with the pieces that remained of him.
~*~SGI~*~
***
“The road is long, with many a winding turn
that leads us to who knows where, who knows where.
But I’m strong, strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy- he’s my brother.”
- Glen Campbell
***
The jungle was not built to accommodate a speedy escape, Jack decided. However, it did offer great cover. In their retreat, they heard the echoes of explosions bounce through the jungle walls. Jack silently prayed that it helped even their odds, but he feared it only succeeded in pissing off a bunch of already really pissed off guerillas. They had been running and ducking detection by the hair of their chinney-chin-chins for nearly three hours now, coming so close that Jack swore he could smell their hunters’ sweat on a number of occasions.
Daniel had woken a few times, but barely, and only long enough to latch onto Jack and realize he was finally safe. Only long enough for Jack to calm him, give him more medication, apply more bandages and throw him back over his shoulders mindful, of course, of the ever increasing number of wounds Jack had been noticing during their desperately needed breaks.
Cornelius wanted to help by taking turns carrying the battered archeologist, but Jack wouldn’t hear of it. He kept shrugging off his assistance, saying he wasn’t heavy. Besides, Daniel was his responsibility. Even though his knees ached to be released of the extra weight and his back threatened collapsing in on itself. It didn’t matter. If he had to, he’d carry him all the way back into Frasier’s open arms. It was what friends did for each other…it was what brothers did.
Resting again gave Jack another chance to check Daniel’s vitals, (or suffer the wrath of the Napoleonic power monger). It also gave Cornelius a chance to check the map. God only knew where they were.
“J’ck?” It was barely whispered, but the trust it voiced broke Jack’s heart.
Smiling at the sight of seeing those big blues for the first time, really, since Daniel had come back to him, Jack gently placed his hand over a feverish cheek. “Hey, sleepy head.”
“Where…?” he asked, seeking out Jack with his still trembling hands and grabbing a handful of material around Jack’s waist.
The confusion on Daniel’s face scared Jack. “Remember, Daniel, we’re in Central America. You decided to play “Beat the Tourist” with the native rebels.”
“Oh…yeah,” Daniel croaked, bringing up his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
Jack pulled away from his cheek and Daniel missed the security of it. So he held on tighter. Tightening the grip he had on Jack’s shirt gave him comfort, despite the screaming protests of his fingers.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Jack asked, holding up two.
Daniel studied the object in question for what seemed like an eternity. “On which hand?” he finally responded, dropping the hand that had been resting on his nose.
Jack looked back at the only hand he held up. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”
After accepting the water, with forced slowness, but sweet blessed bliss, and the pills Jack handed him, Daniel cleared his throat and tried to ignore the childlike need to crawl into Jack’s lap and cry. “How bad is it?”
Jack studied his friend. “How bad is what? The fact that we’ve been given the highly respectable, yet dangerously dramatic roles of “mouse” in a cat’s playground? Or, the fact that, from what I can tell so far, for I am no doctor—you’re suffering from one hell of a concussion, a few broken fingers …um?…oh, broken ribs, which by the way, mixed with this environment, makes for excellent pneumonia conditions…infection from burns, cuts and gashes…and did I mention your left knee looks really, really swelled and…well, gross? This assessment, of course, is solely based on what I can see. God only knows what that “tell-a-chick” thing did to ya.” Pausing to take a breath and to see if Daniel would correct his mangled pronunciation of the device, Jack noticed Daniel’s expression. The one he gave when he’s just been given a shit load of information and is trying to find a way to catalogue it in that brain of his. He probably didn’t even hear half of what he had said. “Does that answer your question, Danny?” His tone was not harsh, accusing or irritated for that matter, just… informative.
“Umm…yeah. That…that pretty much brings me up to speed. Thank you.” Daniel blinked. “Um…except…um…where’s the device?”
“It’s off…from what we can tell and Wallas has it tucked safely away.”
Raising his eyebrows in question of the name, Jack explained, “Wallas helped me find you. Cornelius Wallas,” he clarified, gesturing to the man behind him, studying something in his hand. Cornelius half-waved, never taking his eyes off the map.
“Oh…good…thanks,” Daniel mumbled, his eyes already starting to droop.
Jack watched as what he hoped was a peaceful slumber, called to his friend again. His hand lightly stroked his fevered cheek urging him to answer its call. “Rest, Daniel, we’ll be home before you know it.”
After removing the iron grip Daniel once again had on Jack, he gently placed the precious bundle back over his shoulder—only half-hearing Cornelius apprising him of their current location as he continued their escape with the comforting rhythm of his best friend’s heart beating against his back.
~*~SG1~*~
Safe. I’m safe.
He could hear Jack’s breathing as he marched them to safety with Daniel as his burden. Slightly rocking back and forth on his shoulders, Jack’s presence was as comforting as a strong but gentle sea. Daniel knew he would come, knew that his would be the hand that would reach out and take him home.
He didn’t know what Jack had been giving him, but he felt a lot better…well, compared to what he’d been feeling like the past few days. The pain that had been circulating endlessly through his body from the artifact had died down to a bearable level and he found that he could also breathe more easily. Woo-hoo he thought, in a pitiful attempt at enthusiasm.
His tremors had subsided for the most part, but every lingering stab of pain brought a rush of nightmares along with it, shaking Daniel to the core. At first, he’d grab onto the back of Jack’s vest, but he felt silly… that simple material could make him feel safe, so he stopped and instead clenched his teeth until his jaw threatened to snap.
Somehow though, Jack still sensed…. Even while he raced for their lives, he was still so receptive to Daniel’s needs. So every time a wave assaulted him, he could feel Jack’s grip comfortably tighten. As if saying, “I’m here Daniel. Nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore.”
He didn’t want to break Jack’s stride, but he also didn’t want to be a burden any longer. He didn’t want to sleep anymore…didn’t want to think about what he gave up…didn’t want to think about Bill. He just wanted to concentrate on the moment. He could only imagine how much farther they had to go and he wanted to help. He was about to say something, when he felt Jack tighten his grip and bring him around to ease on the ground.
~*~SG1~*~
***
“Trust men and they will be true to you; treat them greatly and they will
show themselves great.”
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
***
Oh for cry’in out loud!
Cornelius frantically searched his map. “I…I don’t understand,” he stammered.
Jack gently lowered Daniel to the ground and patted his cheek in reassurance. “We’re just gonna take a little pit stop. You holding up okay?”
Daniel nodded, as he sought a more comfortable position and Jack turned around and put his hands on his hips.
“Colonel…I don’t understand how this could have happened.”
Frustrated, tired and sick with worry, this was the last straw for Jack. “Well,” he snapped, whipping his hand out to encompass their newest problem, “isn’t it obvious?”
Cornelius studied Jack, thinking the only thing that was obvious, was that they were in deep shit.
“Somebody has clearly seen, “Speed” and thought that it would be a laughing riot to put a honkin huge hole in our escape route!” Jack finished through clenched teeth. He knew it wouldn’t do any good to scream and give their exact location away.
Blowing out a breath, Jack scratched his head as he took in the vast ravine. It was at least a half a mile wide and a hundred feet to the river that ran through it below. They stood on the edge near a waterfall. Its mist felt refreshing to Jack, but he knew it couldn’t be good for Daniel with his broken ribs and weakened state.
“Think we can jump it?” he asked, trying to shake Cornelius out of his shock induced stare.
It worked.
“Colonel, even if we did have a bus, hydraulics, and movie magic on our side…no, I do not believe we would make it,” he simply stated before desperately searching his map again.
“Pessimist.”
Turning back around and crouching beside Daniel, he saw Cornelius put the artifact down and tell him he was going to scout for another way.
Daniel didn’t miss the suspicion in Jack’s eyes as he watched Cornelius leave.
“What’s wrong?” he cursed the weakness that still claimed his voice.
“Let’s just say he has more to lose by sticking it out with us, than he does if he skedaddles right now,” Jack replied, never looking up from checking Daniel’s bandages.
Jack tried not to think about the shit his best friend had been through the past few days, or the shit he has yet to go through, just to put former shit behind him. Nor did he want to let the pain in Daniel’s eyes register in his heart, or he’d be forced to just hold the kid until either death or help found them.
He wanted to ignore the slight tremors that danced under his fingertips during his ministrations. He wanted to curse, scream, damn the universe and everyone in it, including himself, for letting more pain find probably the most important person in his life. But he couldn’t. He knew that. Not here. Not now. Probably not ever. So he was thankful when Daniel’s good old curiosity started to peak.
“Why are you always so paranoid, Jack?”
“Hey! I think I have the right to be! Shall I whip out the list of people who have totally screwed us, in one way or another…time and time… and time again in some cases?”
“Um…no, no that won’t be necessary.”
“Cause I can.” Jack looked up at Daniel and continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “Let’s see, there’s the Tok’ra…”
“Jack.”
“The Tollans…”
“Jack.”
“The Aschen…or they would have …anyway…”
“Jack!”
“Did I mention the Tok’ra?”
“JACK!”
“And I have it on good authority that Humpty Dumpty was pushed.”
“Ja…What?”
Whatever Jack’s explanation would have been was cut off and replaced with “Oi!” when an automatic weapon was shoved in his face.
Looking up, Jack’s saw the feral grin behind the gun at the same time he felt Daniel tug on his arm. Realizing that Daniel couldn’t see the big nasty standing behind him, Jack filled him in. “Nothing to worry about, Daniel. Just looks like one of the cats have caught up with the mice.”
Just then the irate guerrilla walked around and faced Daniel.
~*~SG1~*~
Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. He tried to keep a straight face…tried not to show his fear—even as searing pain shot through his fingers and up his arm.
He recognized this man. He was one of Handez’s happy little helpers and suddenly he was back in that hut, wondering which would be lost to him first…his life or his sanity. Finding it hard to breathe, Daniel’s vision swam and he tightened the grip he had on Jack’s sleeve. Damnit! he cursed himself. He had survived worst than this, suffered more severely from the hands of Goa’ulds…so why couldn’t he swallow the fear that was trying to consume him?
Maybe he’d just blame it on side effects from the artifact.
~*~SG1~*~
“Mama said there’d be days like this” Jack muttered, his eyes never leaving the renegade’s as he waited for the right second to make his move. Daniel’s trembling had violently increased a few notches and Jack couldn’t wait to take the bastard out. Unfortunately, said bastard was trying to take both of them out with his arrogant ramblings.
Jack was beginning to wonder if all bad guys took a course on how to act superior while simultaneously dishing out a crock of shit. He was also beginning to wonder what the hell had happened to Cornelius. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted him. Now he was going to have to figure a way out of this, with a damaged archeologist, a babbling mad man, his bad knees and a gun he didn’t think he could pull fast enough. Who’d they think he was? MacGyver?
A few agonizingly intense moments passed and Jack couldn’t take it anymore. If he had to listen to another second of, “…my power, this…my power, that…your insolence, this…your insolence, that…” he was going too spontaneously combust and end up taking them all out. Which would be a shame, especially since a knife through the heart would just as easily work and spare both him and Daniel.
Luckily, that’s exactly what happened when Cornelius decided to make a fashionably late appearance. Jack watched as their would-be captor slumped lifelessly to the ground.
“Well, there’s another minute of my life I’ll never get back,” Jack complained, before asking Cornelius what the hell had taken him so long and checking on Daniel.
Daniel’s eyes were wide with fear and disbelief—his breathing, quick and shallow as he tried to convince himself that they were safe again. “Hey,” Jack whispered, tilting his chin so Daniel would look him in the eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay now, you’re safe,” he soothed.
Daniel nodded and pulled on Jack’s sleeve—a desperately needed reminder that he still wasn’t in that God forsaken shack.
As Cornelius helped Jack move Daniel behind a fallen tree for more cover, Jack couldn’t help but ask him what had happened to his precious bow. “I did not feel like digging it back out of my pack, okay?”
The smart ass remark on the tip of Jack’s tongue was swallowed when he heard movement in the bushes.
“They have found us,” Cornelius whispered.
“Ya think?” Was the remark he got in unison from both Jack and Daniel.
Suddenly a spray of bullets, way to close for comfort dusted them with debris. Jack threw himself over Daniel—a desperate attempt to protect the younger man from more harm.
“What now?” he yelled to the man huddled beside him as he returned fire.
“We jump.”
Jack stopped firing and stared incredulously at his guide. “Are you cracked? That’s at least a hundred feet…into a raging river. If the fall doesn’t kill us the river will!”
“Pessimist.”
If looks could kill…
“Listen, Colonel, I figure we have two choices. (A) We jump and maybe survive. Or (B) We stay here and die.”
“What about (C)?”
“There is no (C).”
“There’s always a (C)!”
“Not this time, Colonel.”
Jack looked back down at Daniel. He was still shaking wildly from their uninvited guest, but was desperately trying to rein in his emotions. Jack had seen many faces on Daniel. Happy, sad, scared, ecstatic, confused, hurt, even pissed; all of which he sought comfort in knowing he could identify each in a heartbeat, even predict them, regardless of how hard Daniel tried to hide his emotions. Jack could always see through the mask. The one face Jack had never gotten used to, however—never been able to understand, was the one that bore trust. Trust in him…even with all they’ve been through, even with all he’s put Daniel through since they met.
He saw this face now. Pushing through the pain to let Jack know that whatever he chose to do, Daniel would accept it as the best choice…even if Jack wasn’t so sure himself.
…even if the best choice would probably end up killing him.
Daniel could barely stand on his own, let alone swim a few laps in a rampant river. If the fall didn’t kill Daniel and the river didn’t kill Daniel…then the water would eventually. Jack could hear Janet now, yammering about begging for pneumonia.
Man, is she gonna kick my ass.
“Daniel…”
“Jack…” Daniel cut him off. He knew what he was going to say and there was no point in saying it, especially since it wouldn’t change anything. “I’ll be fine. Just…just don’t let go. And if you do…”
“I’ll catch you,” Jack finished, patting the younger man on his fevered cheek and letting his hand linger there when he noticed Daniel seeking the warmth.
CONTINUE