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dragonfly11~*~SG1~*~
It seemed like he’d been falling forever. He could feel Jack’s grip tighten around his waist and his heart speed up at the thought of the inevitable. He could see a rainbow in every drop of mist they passed and hear them as they collided with their bodies; spreading their colorful delight all over them. He counted three birds that flew by, singing a tune that sounded suspiciously to Daniel like laughter and countless bullets whiz by, not even aware they missed their target.
People always talked about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die…or think you’re going to die. But as many times as Daniel had experienced this… unpleasant re-occurrence, never could he remember his life flashing before his eyes. What he did remember was pain, agonizing and all encompassing pain. He remembered the world slowing down and nearly coming to a complete stop right in front of him; disturbingly clear, as if asking, “Are you sure you want to get off this ride? Look at what you’ll miss.”
And what was it with the, “flashing of the life” thing? Was it your soul’s final and desperate attempt to catalogue all the monumental things in your life before it’s forced to leave your body? Or was it only adrenaline pushing through your veins, eliciting memories that would keep you fighting until the last possible second?
Either way, Daniel figured it didn’t really matter as the world suddenly rushed up to meet them.
Pain. Blinding, freezing pain enveloped his fevered body and stole the protective warmth of Jack’s grip. He was tumbling…tumbling with no anchor. Grabbing frantically for something, anything that could give him a clue as to which way would offer him release for his burning lungs. He had to get out. He had to hold on. Jack trusted him to. All he had to do was hold on and Jack would pull him out.
Finally, breaking the surface, he could hear Jack calling his name, but the need for air and his waning strength prevented him from calling out.
“Daniel!” Was the last thing he heard before the fierce river swallowed him whole again.
He was falling again, churning madly down its esophagus to where it awaited eagerly to devour him. Closer and closer he got, until he could see the opening at the end of the tunnel where its acidic juices bubbled up in anticipation.
Suddenly, he wasn’t falling anymore…but remained dangling above the pool like a fresh piece of meat over a lion’s den. Someone or something had caught him, but it was too late, he thought, as he watched a hand come up from out of the river’s stomach and cloak him in darkness.
~*~SG1~*~
***
“How long after you are gone will the ripples
remain as evidence that you were cast into the pool of life?”
-Grant M. Bright
***
“He’s not breathing!”
Shit!
Several miles down stream, Cornelius helped Jack pull Daniel onto the bank.
“He’s not breathing.”
“I heard you the first time, Wallas!” Jack snapped, gently laying his lifeless friend on the ground. Steam eerily rolled off the archeologist’s body—produced by the cool river water and Daniel’s raging fever.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening, became Jack’s mantra as he desperately tried to breathe life back into the younger man.
“No pulse!” Cornelius announced from Jack’s side and began to do compressions.
“Damnit! Come on, Daniel! Breathe!” he begged.
Daniel’s lips were cracked, and his cheeks were sunken in from nearly a week without food or water. Blood was caked through his fine hair despite its assault from the river, and cuts and bruises marred his entire face—clashing with those intense blue eyes Jack feared he’d never see again.
He seemed so small, so fragile on that bank, where life threatened to escape him. But there was also something else…something more, that Jack had rarely seen grace the archeologist’s face…peace. Somehow the raging river had brought him what life had been so adamant about denying him his entire life.
“One and two and three…”
Listening to Cornelius count the number of times he forced blood through Daniel’s heart, Jack wondered if they were being heroes saving his best friend’s life, or just selfish. Would he be the one to deny Daniel peace, even if it meant losing him again…letting go?
Hell yes.
It was unquestionable. “Cold dead hands,” remember?
Cornelius finished counting to five and it was Jack’s turn to fight the reaper. “Come on Daniel, I just got you back.”
~*~SG1~*~
***
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.”
-Robert Frost
***
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.
He was so cold, he burned, and his lungs refused to expand. The agonizing pressure on his chest didn’t help any either. He just wanted to go home. Hell, even the infirmary was looking good to him now. Ahh the infirmary…where he’d be all nice and warm in his very own bed.
He couldn’t think of a reason why he should be so cold, and then he remembered the river and Jack wrapping an arm around him, catching him…again. He couldn’t feel Jack now though and it scared him. All he could feel was an intense pressure on his chest that threatened to snap his already battered body in half.
He was so tired. He just wanted to rest—to give into the need to sleep for a week and pray his dreams had mercy on him. But he knew he couldn’t. Not so far from home. Not with this drumming on his chest.
Despite the fact that Daniel couldn’t feel Jack right now, he knew what he had to do. All he had to do was reach out. Reach out and Jack would find him and take him the rest of the way home.
Just reach out, Daniel. e told himself. Just reach out…
~*~SG1~*~
If fear could make a man piss his pants, then Jack guessed it was a good thing he was already soaked. Could this be it? Could this really be it? No Goa’uld, no higher beings, or big stinkin’ overgrown sushi…just a river. A fuckin’ river was gonna do what nobody in all the universes and all the worlds could do? Kill Daniel…and keep him dead?
If Jack hadn’t already pissed his pants, he probably did when Daniel suddenly reached out, grabbed his hand and sucked in the most painfully beautiful breath Jack had ever heard.
Jack’s surprise, however, didn’t stop him from tightening the grip instantly. “I got you. I’ve got you,” he eased as Daniel coughed and sucked in greedy breaths. “I’ve got you.”
Daniel opened his eyes and searched Jack’s face. “C-c-c…cold,” he stuttered hoarsely through teeth, Jack feared, would shatter from the force of his quaking body. Looking down at his shivering friend with mixed emotions, “Ssshh, I know,” he comforted, stroking his brow, “I know.”
Daniel was breathing. Daniel was breathing. Daniel was breathing. ack preferred this mantra to the latter. Once again, Daniel had beaten the odds, come back from the dead and scared him shitless.
Jack had tossed out his plans of gracefully growing old to the wind practically the second after he had met Daniel. And now, hunched over and holding his best friend after yet another heart stopping episode…for both, he was forced to accept the fact that since he already had a full head of gray hair—thanks to Daniel—it was now going to start falling out.
They had better find a way to get Daniel off of Murphy’s Hit list, before Jack had to start shopping for a military standard toupee`.
“If I may say so myself, Colonel, that is one stubborn kid you got there,” Cornelius laughed as he patted Daniel on the shoulder and went to retrieve the packs they had dropped on the shoreline.
“Tell me about it. One pain in the ass too,” Jack teased as he eased Daniel into his lap. Never letting go of his hand, he winced at the heat radiating off of him.
Daniel’s fever induced body didn’t burn Jack nearly as badly though, as the pained expression on the younger man’s face. He hated feeling helpless, but even worse was feeling helpless when it came to Daniel. “How ‘bout I give you some more of Janet’s magic juice? That should make you feel better…help bring your fever down even.”
“It hurts, Jack,” Daniel rasped brokenly.
“Where?” the older man urged. If Daniel was admitting to pain it was bad.
The only strength that remained in Daniel’s body was in the hand that squeezed Jack’s. The rest of him lay limp; moving only by the force of his tremors. “Everything,” he said, then started to laugh and cry at the same time, wincing as the action pulled at his broken body. “God, Jack, I really am weak, aren’t I?” he asked, trying desperately to reign in his emotions.
Jack had been torn between wanting to slap Daniel for scaring him so badly, or, well…slap him for scaring him so badly. But his face was serious as he gently placed two fingers below his friend’s chin, demanding his complete attention. “Daniel…you…” Jack had to swallow the overwhelming pride he held for the younger man before continuing. “Daniel, you have strength in you that warriors seek, but would never be strong enough to carry. A truth that believers seek, but would never be able to comprehend. You, Daniel, have lived and even died with so much conviction, that it would bring the heroes the world actually knew about to their knees. Hell, Daniel I’ve seen you inspire greatness in the most desolate situations and people, including myself, by just being you. So don’t talk to me about weakness, Daniel, because the person I’m looking at now is stronger than I, or any Jaffa will ever be.” Jack suddenly felt awkward and looked around to see where Cornelius was. Did he just say that out loud
“Jack?”
Looking back down at Daniel, he was relieved to see that he was breathing easier, but a little confused when he saw concern in the archeologist’s eyes. “What is it, Daniel?”
“Jack....” Daniel’s voice caught and Jack was gonna have a stroke.
“Daniel. What is it?” he urged more forcefully with fear.
“D…did you hit your head on the way down? Cause that…that was really…”
“Daniel! For cryin’ out…!” Relief washed over him. “What are you trying to do to me?” he chastised, lightly cuffing him on the head. “I’d kill ya, if I weren’t afraid you just used up your last, “Get out of Dead Free” card.”
Daniel managed a smile. “Sorry, it’s just…”
“Hey! I can be…nice, even profound…though it’s usually when nobody’s looking…or listening.” Jack made a face that looked like he was pondering his own words.
“Anyway,” he continued, snapping back to the moment. “I meant every word. Just…just promise you won’t tell anyone I’m turning into a softy, or I’ll be forced to leave you here.”
This time it was one of those rare, full blown smiles. “Promise.”
~*~SG1~*~
***
“We are not now that strength which in old days
moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
***
“Good news,” Cornelius reported, returning with the miraculously salvaged artifact and packs. “I figured out where we are. And we’re on the correct side of the river.”
Jack grabbed his pack and started digging through it with one hand. “Hear that, Danny? No more impromptu dips.”
“Yippee,” Daniel mumbled weakly. Seeking warmth, he tried to nonchalantly bury himself further into Jack’s chest.
“Easy on the enthusiasm there, Daniel. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Jack admonished, as he finished laying out dry bandages and medication.
“Colonel, five more minutes and we should really head out. I’m estimating that we are just over an hour away from the rendezvous point.”
“Okay, Wallas why don’t you do a perimeter,” Jack ordered, not even looking up from his ministrations.
Finally noticing all the pills and syringes, Daniel raised an eyebrow. “What have you been giving me?”
Jack studied the portable pharmacy. “Uuuhh...” Shrugging, he reached out to grab a syringe and inject Daniel with it.
“W-w-wait! You don’t know?” The archaeologist held up a shaky hand in a feeble attempt to fend off the happy-go-lucky injector.
“Well, yes…and no,” Jack defended. “Frasier just kind of started pointing to all this stuff saying, ‘If Daniel has these symptoms, give him this. If Daniel suffers from this, give him this. If Daniel experiences this…’ I mean, Daniel, she went on like that for at least five minutes and as far as I can tell, you’re experiencing just about everything she covered.”
“So you’ve just been giving me…?”
“Well, everything pretty much. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. I like to call it, ‘Daniel’s Oil.’”
“Uh-huh…” Daniel studied his friend and decided that Jack wouldn’t risk giving him something if he thought it would do him more harm than good. “I’m confident.” Besides he had been feeling better before the polar plunge.
“Good!” Jack smiled and continued in his task, barely receiving a wince when the needle bit into Daniel. “Besides, what’s the worse that could happen? You overdose on antihistamines and Kleenex goes bankrupt?”
“Ha-ha.”
Jack could tell he was fighting to stay awake, fighting to remain in control of, not only his body, but his emotions as well. He knew reality hadn’t completely caught up with his archeologist yet—that parts of him were still huddled and terrified in that God forsaken shack. That no matter how hard he tried, he would never get that part of him back. And that one day, Jack was going to have to help him say goodbye to it and fill that part of his life up with something else. But he figured that at least for now, he could help him focus on something else. “You know, Daniel, you should have seen Frasier. Would you believe me if I told you, that she actually tried to fit a portable AED in my pack?”
He realized Daniel knew what he was trying to do, but luckily decided to play along. “Really?” he asked, trying to raise an interested eyebrow.
“Yup. And I have to admit that a few minutes ago I was cursing myself for not letting her strap it to my pack.”
“She wanted to strap it to your pack?” Daniel asked incredulously.
“Oh yeah. Actually if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she spent a good five minutes trying to figure out how to tie herself to it.”
Jack was rewarded with a full blown giggle, followed by a wince, a curse and a hand reaching up to grab his vest. Guilt racked Jack, as vessel popping coughs racked Daniel. “Sshh, sorry, buddy.” Jack held the younger man tighter, who had somehow, not filled, but lessened the void his son’s death had left behind.
After the debilitating coughs subsided, Daniel lay limp in Jack’s arms. His tired and pain-filled eyes held Jack’s concerned ones, but a smile touched his lips. “What…?” he croaked. “…worried you’d be charged with Involuntary Laugh-Slaughter, or something?”
Shaking his head seriously, Jack patted his linguist on the cheek. “Of course not, Daniel…the charges would be dropped before the first click of the cuffs. The President and I are like this, remember?” Jack said, crossing his fingers and ducking a weak swat to his head.
Daniel grinned, but started coughing again. “Here, drink some of this. Easy, take it slow,” Jack cajoled, putting his canteen to Daniel’s mouth and steadying it in the archeologist’s trembling hands.
Taking in Daniel’s labored breaths and exhausted body, Jack could tell that pneumonia was trying to get a hold of the archeologist, but prayed the antibiotics would be able to hold it at bay—at least until he got him into Dr. Frasier’s more capable hands. “You sure you’re up for this?”
Daniel let the hand drop that had been weakly holding the canteen and Jack put it away. “Piece of cake, right?” he replied breathlessly.
“Yeahsureyoubetchya.” Jack smiled, patting Daniel on the cheek. He wanted nothing more than to let his friend rest, but they just couldn’t risk staying in one place any longer. They had no way of knowing the position of their hunters. They could be moving in on them right now, or the river could have given them a decent head start…either way, Jack wasn’t about to wait around and see.
Helping Daniel stand, Jack bore most of the weight, steadying him when his legs refused to hold him at first. Then placing his arm around his shoulder and grabbing him around the waist, Jack waited a moment for him to get his balance.
Confidently, Daniel looked up at him, wincing a little as he attempted to straighten himself. “Let’s hit the road…Jack.”
“And don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more,” Cornelius casually sang as he passed the two up and took the lead.
Jack and Daniel watched as Cornelius trekked ahead, then they look at each other, and then back at Cornelius. Finally, looking back at each other, raising their eyebrows they simultaneously shrugged and followed in his wake, Daniel still being supported by Jack.
Their voices could faintly be heard over the sounds of the jungle.
"Jack?”
“Yeah, Daniel?”
“You’re a bad influence on him.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
~*~SG1~*~
His mind was swimming and demanding colossal amounts of energy—energy he didn’t have, just to concentrate. His muscles ached and shook with fatigue and abuse, and sweat poured off of him despite the chills that racked his body. When they had first started out, Janet’s drugs were already taking effect, making him confident that he would eventually be walking unassisted. However, now—not forty minutes into their hike, it took all he had just to put one foot in front of the other.
Jack’s grip had already tightened to keep him standing and so had his. And somewhere along the line, his head had ended up on Jack’s shoulder—not that he knew how he could still walk that way—body vertical, head horizontal.
He was still walking, wasn’t he? Yep! Because he just stumbled and would have taken them both down, if not for Jack’s killer reflexes.
He knew Jack wanted to carry him. And if he thought that it would get them out of there any quicker, he might even consider it. But Jack was just as exhausted as he was. Daniel could see it in his eyes, though his friend would never admit it.
He just had to keep concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, reminding himself that each step brought him closer to stiff white sheets, prying nurses, bright lights, needles and an overwhelming odor of antiseptics. Aaahh, Daniel sighed as he stumbled again. I can’t wait.
~*~SG1~*~
After pulling Daniel upright again, Jack decided it was time to take a break. Daniel’s head was already lying limp against his shoulder and he doubted the scientist even had his eyes open. Of course that didn’t stop his feet from moving. Jack had seen Daniel on auto pilot before, where all of his energy and concentration was diverted to only the most essential areas. His mind and tongue, while translating for their lives, his heart and soul, while trying to save a civilization…and now, his two feet, to walk him home.
Stopping and pulling Daniel back when his feet were about to walk out from underneath him, Jack signaled for Cornelius to scout ahead. “Dannyboy and I are gonna take a little breather.”
Jack eased himself onto the ground, taking Daniel with him. He became concerned when it looked like Daniel didn’t even notice. Tilting the younger man’s chin up so he could get a better look at him, he cursed at the sight of the flushed face. “Aww shit, Danny, look at you. Your fever’s up again.”
Daniel looked up at him with confused and fever-glazed eyes, finally becoming aware that he wasn’t moving anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling worse?” Jack asked gently, smoothing aside his sweaty bangs.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Daniel said weakly, lying listlessly against him.
“The hell you are,” Jack snapped, damning such helpless moments. He had already given Daniel more than the prescribed amount of medication just to keep him on his feet…hell, just to keep him breathing. He knew how important it was for Daniel to be able to walk out of there…to be given some kind of control after having every ounce stripped away while laying in that hut. But looking at him now, racked with fever and labored breaths, barely able to keep his head up, let alone his eyes open…he just didn’t think it was going to be possible.
“Really, Jack…” Daniel still didn’t sound convincing, “…just hit me with 10ccs of coffee and I’ll be good to go.”
“Now, I know it’s bad,” Jack replied grimly. “You’re attempting humor.”
“Hey,” Daniel feigned hurt, closing his eyes. “Actually, double, “hey!” because I was serious. Where’s the coffee?”
“See, now Daniel you must be delusional if you think Janet would actually prescribe, let alone allow you within a hundred feet of caffeine in your condition.” He hoped that Daniel didn’t argue that out of all the drugs Jack had been giving him, there was bound to be at least one with some sort of stimuli in it…so he quickly changed the subject.
Digging out his canteen, he placed it against his friend’s mouth, causing him to jump and lazily open his eyes. “Here, I need you to sip on this until the mummy gets back. Slowly,” he added when Daniel started to suck it down. “Janet will kick my ass if I show up in her infirmary with a dehydrated archeologist.”
“Jack, I think that’s the least she’ll be concerned about. Besides, I’m already dehydrated.”
Man, is she gonna kick my ass.
“Yeah, but I promised I’d return the archeologist with at least a 1/3 of a tank, and thanks to your fever, I doubt I’ll be allowed to take you out of the mountain for at least a week.”
ldquo;I’m touched,” Daniel rasped.
“As you should be,” Jack replied, gesturing that he take another sip.
They sat there in silence for a few moments, Jack cringing every time Daniel’s breath would hitch and Daniel slowly losing the battle to stay conscious. Jack had thought that the younger man had finally fallen asleep…until he heard the faintest of words spoken into his chest. “The mummy?”
“What?”
“Until the mummy gets back?”
It took Jack a second. “Oh. Wallas…Cornelius…whatever—doesn’t he remind you of that mummy guy from…well, “The Mummy”?”
“Imhotep?” Daniel asked, trying to remember what Cornelius looked like. He really hadn’t been paying much attention.
“Imo…um, sure, yeah, that sounds about right.” Jack marveled at Daniel’s ability to still think circles around him while half unconscious.
“Yeah…I guess you’re right. He does. Hmm.”
“Hmmm…?”
“Hmmm…”
The resounding sound of crickets was finally silenced when Cornelius returned. “It’s all clear, Colonel, at least for about another mile.”
“Good to hear.”
“How’s the kid?”
Looking down, Jack took in said kid’s sleeping features and they cried pain. They screamed of nightmares to come and endless bouts of uncertainty. They begged for reassurance and safety in a friend’s embrace. And prayed for mercy from the merciless life he lived
Hugging Daniel against him, Jack absorbed the tremors that ran throughout the younger man’s body and they reverberated through his soul, leaving it aching for a way to ease them.
He cursed the answers he wouldn’t have, and the chance that would never come so he could trade places with him. He damned the bastards that did this and the pain he wouldn’t be allowed to bear for him…
“Colonel?”
“He’ll be fine, Wallas.” There wasn’t any other option. Daniel’s stubbornness just wouldn’t allow it…and neither would Jack’s.
“Dannyboy will be just fine.”
~*~SG1~*~
***
“The problem in defense is how far you can go without destroying from within
hat you are trying to defend from without.”
- Dwight D. Eisenhower
***
Jack decided he wasn’t going to wake Daniel. He’d just place him over his shoulder and let him sleep the rest of the way if it came to it. Reaching over to take his pulse, Jack was startled when he suddenly started screaming and whipping his head back and forth as if trying to escape a memory.
“No! You bastards! Bill? Bill!” Daniel was struggling now in Jack’s arms, oblivious of his attempts to soothe.
Worried that Daniel would cause himself more harm, Jack was about to order Cornelius to get a sedative out of his pack, when Daniel suddenly snapped out of it with such a force…that Jack could hear the gunfire echoing from his nightmare.
“Jack?” He sounded so small, so lost.
“I’m here.”
“Jack?”
The nightmare had left him more exhausted and breathless than ever, but his hand still managed to reach out to find Jack.
“Sshh, it’s okay, buddy.”
“Jack…” he cried brokenly, as salty tears slipped to the ground in the wake of his mask.
“I know, Daniel.” He lightly stroked his cheek with his thumb in what he hoped was a consoling way. “I know.” In one word, he knew what Daniel was telling him—that he was tired. And not just body tired…but soul tired. Because…at times, Jack felt the same way.
Because, as much as they believed in what they were doing; defending the world. Sometimes…sometimes one couldn’t help but wonder when it would end. When the macabre dance between battles and wars would finally cease. When pain would have time to heal and hearts have time to mourn before the next call.
Sure, they’ve won their share of battles. They’ve been to the other side and found, that yes, the grass is greener. But never have they gotten the chance to smell it, to take their shoes off and smoosh it between their toes before the other side’s demands forced them to return.
It was demands like these that left you waking up in the morning, wondering if you had the strength to make it another day. It was the constant pressure and worry that left you crying over a bottle of scotch when nobody was around… or, in Daniel’s case, coffee.
And finally, when the ache of exhaustion weakened you to a point beyond the pain…it left you lying in the jungle, hanging onto your best friend, while you wept everything you’ve been harboring away.
Reigning in his emotions, Daniel wiped at his face with a shaky hand. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Leave it to Daniel to apologize for the sky being blue.
“For being such a head case.”
Jack’s breath caught at the choice of his words. It wasn’t a pleasant memory—for either of them, but, perhaps, in this case, he could use it to his advantage. “Anybody else here getting a sense of deja`vu`?”
Daniel furrowed his brow, and Jack watched as he sorted through that mind of his. He figured that he had probably stored that memory in one of his many, “Do not, under any circumstances, open this!” boxes. So he was a little surprised and relieve when Daniel smiled. “Yeah.” Although, he doubted it was at the memory.
“Well, it wasn’t your fault then, Daniel, and it sure as hell isn’t your fault now.”
“Jack…”
“Daniel.”
“Ja’…”
“Daniel, I’m serious!” When his archeologist was forced to look away, or risk shedding more tears, Jack knew that he had won that battle…at least for now.
“You think you can walk?”
He could visibly see Daniel shoving his latest nightmares into one of those boxes, readying himself and forcing himself into the moment.
“Um…no. But I’m going to anyway.”
It was then that Cornelius decided to make his presence known. He had been standing on the sidelines the whole time, watching their backs. Perhaps Jack had underestimated him. He’d have to find a way to help him and his wife when they got back.
“It is not much farther, Colonel. Only a few more miles.”
“Only a few more…you know, that…that just doesn’t comfort me like it should,” Daniel admitted as Jack handed him back the water.
“Don’t worry about it, Daniel. If you get too tired, I’ll just hide you in some bushes and send Teal’c back for you later.” Jack grinned mischievously.
“Wow, you’re just full of knee slappers today aren’t you?”
“What can I say, Danny? When you got it, you got it.”
“Which you obviously don’t.”
“Oooh, blood loss and dehydration makes for one crabby archeologist,” Jack teased back, enjoying the return of their banter more than he would ever admit. He realized Daniel’s little siesta couldn’t have been that helpful…especially when plagued with nightmares, but he was relieved to see Daniel being Daniel again—his good ‘ole witty, if not sarcastic self.
Carter says that Daniel has been hanging around him for too long. This brought a smile to Jack’s face.
After taking a few more guarded sips, Daniel handed the canteen back to Jack. “Well, if we’re going, we’d better go now—before I come to my senses and let you knock me out. Not a word, Jack.” he added at the opening of Jack’s mouth.
“What?” Jack feigned innocence and was rewarded with a knowing glare from both, Daniel and their precious guide.
“What?”
~*~SG1~*~
HomeHomeHomeHome,HomeHomeHomeHome,HomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHome.
Those “Meow Mix” kitties had nothing on Daniel.
He couldn’t wait. They were so close.
He could already taste the mountain’s recycled air, imagine the klaxons abruptly yanking him out of sound sleep and hear Jack complaining about hospital chairs not being so hospitable.
He ached to sleep. He already decided that he was going to, for at least three days…make that a week. He had thought he was exhausted when Chakka took him on a little cross country hike, but being supported almost completely now by Jack, he realized that it didn’t even compare.
At this point, not even a hot shower could curb him from belly flopping onto the first bed he sees. Oooh, and coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Just smelling it would probably give him a caffeine high right about now.
And just beyond those trees lay the ticket to them all. Just a few more feet and they’ll be in the clearing. Just a few more seconds and Cornelius will return with the all clear.
Just a few more…
“Colonel!”
Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.
He could feel Jack let up and tighten his grip so Daniel wouldn’t lose his balance after stopping their memento.
“What is it, Wallas?”
“The aircraft isn’t at the rendezvous point and I can’t reach anybody on the radio. I also detected movement on the other side of the clearing.”
“Oi.”
So very, very, very close…