DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
"Colonel, you've got to stay still, if this blade slips..." Janet Fraiser let the unspecified threat hang in the air between herself and a decidedly grumpy Jack O'Neill.
"I just want the damn thing off, Doc. The sling on my arm came off two weeks ago."
"Perhaps if you'd hadn't insisted on walking too soon, this cast would have come off then as well." Janet smiled all-too-sweetly as she positioned the blade over the plaster once more.
Jack had the grace to look embarrassed. "How did you..."
"I have my sources, Colonel. Special Ops isn't the only branch of the military with good intel. Covering it with a sock. Really! Now hold still." The blade whirred loudly against the plaster, effectively eliminating Jack's retort. As Janet worked, Jack's thoughts turned back eight weeks to when he'd been carted home from PRS905. He remembered very little of the trek from the cellar to the 'gate. Daniel had ensured that he'd been doped to the gills, and for much of the trip twin archaeologists whirled anxiously around his head, adding to already nauseating dizziness. The prelude to his journey, however, was still fresh in his mind.
"Teal'c, are you sure he's strapped in tightly? He doesn't need to fall out on the way to the 'gate." Daniel eyed the makeshift stretcher doubtfully.
"I am certain, Daniel Jackson. I secured the knots myself."
"He's looking awfully pale, Sam. Did you give him enough morphine? I don't want him to be in any pain. I mean, he's been through enough."
The young woman sighed. "Yes, Daniel, he's had enough."
"And what about the DHD? What if Lieutenant Hancock can't fix the DHD?"
"I'm sure he won't have any trouble, Daniel. Marne went with him. He knows which crystals to replace." Ferretti checked his hand-hold on the stretcher, smiling to himself as he saw Spenser and Anderson do likewise. "Are you ready, gentlemen?"
"Wait!" Daniel interrupted, and quickly knelt by Jack's head. "Jack, we're gonna get you out of here now. You just hang on a little longer. We'll take it as easy as we can, but if you start to hurt just make sure you let us know."
Sam laid a gentle hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel, I'm sure the colonel appreciates your concern, but he's not really up to answering right now."
Blue eyes widened as the younger man looked up. "He is looking a little foggy, Sam. You didn't give him too much morphine, did you?"
Sam shook her head and pulled Daniel to his feet. "No, Daniel, he's had just enough."
The young archaeologist blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm just--"
"Worried. Yes, we know, Daniel. We're all worried." Sam smiled at her friend.
Ferretti decided that perhaps a distraction would help. "Daniel, I heard a rumor that you managed to kill one of those beasts with one shot. Any truth to it?"
"Well, yeah, I, uh, well, uh, it was going after Elden and Laro. I couldn't let it hurt them."
Sam checked Jack's vitals once more, smiling in response to his drowsy smile at Daniel's discomfiture then nodded to the men to go ahead and lift the stretcher off the ground. "On three...one, two, three."
With a slight grunt, the four men pulled the stretcher into the air. Daniel bobbed nervously around, as anxious about Jack's well-being as he was annoyed at not being allowed to help carry. But Ferretti and Sam had been firm. The gash on his back was healing, but the strain on the fragile tissues could well start it bleeding again unnecessarily. The stretcher and its precious cargo swayed between the men, and Daniel gasped. "Teal'c, will the stretcher hold?"
"DANIEL!"
No, no one, least of all Daniel, realized that he'd been awake enough to hear that interchange. Jack had been waiting for this day for quite some time. Oh, the walking cast had been great when the doctor had finally consented to him having one. It had allowed him to roam the halls, almost freely, and brought a semblance of normalcy back to his life. The weeks he'd been forced to spend trapped in a chair, with his leg elevated and his arm strapped to his chest had been miserable. Everyone had been so nauseatingly nice to him, so concerned about his mental state, trying to comfort him. And he admitted to himself that at first it was nice to have that constant presence to interrupt the nightmare images of his time in the cellar. But he'd dealt with nightmares for years. Actually, he considered himself to be something of an expert in nightmares. And it hadn't taken long for him to see that one of his team was also plagued with night terrors.
For Carter and Teal'c this had been nothing more than a mission gone very, very wrong. Simply one mishap after another. For Daniel, however, it had been one trial after another. He'd always known that Daniel would come through for the team, no matter what the odds. That his young friend could go it alone when necessary. Hell, the escape from Apophis' mother ship had been proof of that. But this time, Daniel had been forced to choose between saving Jack and saving the rest of the team, as well as SG-2. The younger man had made the right decision, but it could easily have cost Jack his life, and the colonel knew that Daniel's sleep was being interrupted by visions of his death. Not that he'd mentioned it, of course, but Jack knew the signs. The too-tired eyes, the nervous movements that indicated waaaay too much caffeine. Yep, now that he was finally free of the cast, he could take Daniel on a short hike up the mountain.
Daniel was sitting in the back corner of the cafeteria, eyes half shut, hands wrapped protectively around an oversized mug. Jack approached silently, determined to surprise the man ... a feat that had not been possible with the heavy plaster on his leg. The colonel stood absolutely still next to the table studying the tired face of the younger man. 'Not good. This is not good. And he's probably had too... Empty mug? What the...' As the thought registered in Jack's mind that the mug was not only empty, it was clean; Daniel registered a concerned pair of eyes boring into his face.
Blue eyes snapped opened. "Jack? What? OH! You got the cast off. That's great. I didn't know Janet was taking it off today. Is walking hard? Are you gonna have to use a cane? How--"
'Way to much caffeine,' Jack thought as he held up a hand to stop the flow of words. "Daniel, don't you think you've had enough coffee?"
"Huh? Oh, no. I haven't had any yet. All..day..long.. and it's almost noon!"
"It's ten am."
"Close enough. The coffee-maker was on the blink this morning, and I was out of coffee in my office, and Rothman only had decaf, and--"
"I get the picture."
"Dr. Jackson?" An airman smiled as he held up a fresh pot of coffee. "You've got dibs."
Daniel was out of the chair, and past Jack like he'd been shot out of a cannon. The colonel watched with bemused concern as the airman filled Daniel's mug to the rim, and offered the scientist cream. Daniel sniffed the brew, smiling as he inhaled its fragrance, but before he could take a sip, the mug was pulled from his hands. "HEY!"
"AH, ah, ah!" Jack slapped Daniel's hands away, and poured the coffee into a large Styrofoam mug. Snapping the lid closed, he smiled at his friend. "Come on."
"Where? And can I have that?"
"Outside. And not yet."
"But..."
"Later, Daniel. It'll stay warm." Jack moved toward the door with barely a trace of a limp. Turning, he barely stifled a laugh at the hang-dog expression on Daniel's face. Waving the cup back and forth, he sighed inwardly as Daniel's eyes followed the cup. "Coming?"
"Yes!" Daniel walked quietly beside Jack through the corridors of the SGC, noting absently as he entered the elevator, that the colonel had selected the topmost floor.
As the doors closed, Jack commented. "I hear that SG-7 is having a great deal of success on PRS905. The technology we're introducing should really help them in their fight against the Redcaps."
"Yeah, I heard. I'm glad, the Euloeans are really good people. The herbs they use for medicinal purposes have sent the botanists into spasms of ecstasy. If they could just do something about the burning sensation, though." He paused as he recalled the application to his wound. Janet had been quite shocked when it healed without leaving a scar. And that energy tonic rivaled caffeine on a good day, if one could just get past the taste. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued. "It was a pleasant surprise to find Naquada there, even though the supply is limited. But Sam says that every little bit we can get helps our research. After Tiamon's election to the High Council, he had no trouble persuading the rest of the council that we should get as much as possible."
"What happened to, uh, Rat's Ass?"
"Vraxas? Oh, well, he's been sentenced to house arrest for the next ten years. Should have been longer." The last sentence was barely more than a whisper.
The elevator doors opened, and Jack waited until they'd cleared the last guard station before replying. "Probably, but according to SG-10, that's almost a life sentence to the Euloeans."
"He should've gotten life. He tried to kill Sam and Teal'c, and almost did kill Tiamon. If Marne hadn't gotten the antidote down him... Sam was quite impressed with his loyalty, you know."
"Tiamon?"
"I guess, but I meant Marne."
"I'll make a note. She didn't like the Redcaps."
"Not much to like. ... He probably would have tried to do away with SG-2, too."
"I heard. You saved them, Danny."
"For what it's worth."
"What does that mean?"
"Tiamon was alive, Jack. A few more minutes and he'd have made his appearance, and everything would have been just fine! I didn't need to be there at all!"
"Daniel, you were definitely needed there. I know that and--"
Daniel's voice held a more than a hint of pain and anger. "No, you don't! You don't know that at all! You were in a cellar, in the middle of nowhere, hurt. I left you there! God, I left you to die, Jack!"
The colonel winced inwardly at the anguish in his friend's voice. "I didn't die, Daniel."
"No thanks to me! I..I'm sorry, Jack. I should have gone back to you."
"Don't second guess the right decision, Daniel."
"I mean, you could... what?"
"The right decision Daniel. You know, the one you made. Daniel, I've studied the reports. Your speech bought Marne time to get the antidote into Tiamon. And, the time for him to recover sufficiently to get to the stadium. Do you really think Rat's Ass would have allowed Sam and Teal'c to get out of that arena alive if you hadn't been talking?"
"I..I'm not sure." Daniel stammered slightly as he spoke.
"I am. You made the right call, Daniel. And thanks to your ammunition, I was able to defend myself." Jack didn't bother to mention how close he'd actually come to giving up. His young friend certainly didn't need to know that. "And I hear you saved the day for some other people."
"Oh, that." Daniel blushed in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't have a choice. That thing would've killed one or both of them."
"No choice, Daniel. That's what I've been talking about. You did good, real good."
"I, uh, thanks, Jack, I... Thanks." Daniel took a deep breath, and rubbed his arms. "It's a little chilly out here, Jack. Can I have my coffee now?"
Jack grinned and passed him the Styrofoam cup. "Sure, Danny, but I wouldn't drink it, if I were you."
"Why not, Jack?"
"The, uh, lid didn't fit quite right. It's cold."
"JACK!"