Author's Notes: A response to those little voices that asked... "What about Danny?". Girls, what you do to me...
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.
"You okay for this?"
I can't help but think how stupid that question is.
If I was okay, if...we...were okay we wouldn't be heading back to the Stargate in the first place. Jack gives that little half-shrug of his and starts walking and, having little choice, I follow.
God, my head hurts....
Looking at Jack's back the whole way is going to get a little redundant, but I think I'm safer back here...less opportunity to shoot my mouth off again.
Why did I say that?
Aside from the fact that he had to go and hit me with another stupid nickname...I'm still trying to live down 'Space Monkey'...and that 'flaky' remark....
Still, I shouldn't have said that...
Sure Jack's a little...arrogant. He knows it, I know it, the whole SGC knows it; actually I think Jack's kind of proud of it. And I noticed that wasn't the one he objected to...
I shouldn't have said he was condescending, but sometimes he can make me feel like a wet-behind-the-ears kid. I'm thirty-four years old for God's sake...How is it that he can make me feel so...inadequate. I'd give all my degrees if just once he'd see me as an equal....
That's not fair. He does...most of the time. It's just....
My head hurts....
Jack calls for a break and I just collapse where I am. The sun's so bright....it's sure not helping this sick feeling in my stomach....
Jack's trying to give me that 'look' of his....
I figured that one out a long time ago. I can see where that look would work on those military types, almost like a reflex, but hey, Jack...as everyone is so fond of reminding me...I'm not military. No conditioned responses here....
Jack's ready to get moving again. I'm...as ready as I'll ever be. He's not talking, not a good sign. Just as well really, no telling what else we might say that we'll regret later.
It's my fault really....
I don't know why it's so important for me to film that plant...I just know it is. There's something there...something vital to figuring this out. I just don't, exactly, know what it is....
I shouldn't have let my inability to express that feeling affect me so completely, though. At the best of times Jack has trouble understanding my theories, but I shouldn't have yelled at him just because I couldn't explain this one....
I've got to close my eyes for a minute, the nausea is getting worse...
I can hear Jack ahead of me, slowing a little and shifting to look back at me. I ought to tell him I'm okay...just a little...sick...
And then it hits me, an awful rush of sickness that puts me on the ground. I'm glad I haven't eaten since...when? If I can't remember, I guess it's been awhile....
I can feel Jack's hand on my back, trying to help....
The awful retching feeling passes and I just sit down; I really don't want to open my eyes right now to find a better place...
Jack hands me something wet. I don't know what it is, but it's exactly what I need right now. I make some kind of thank you gesture, I think, and just lay the cloth on my face...
Jack's trying to hand me his canteen, but just the thought starts my stomach start churning again.
He looks worried. Seems like I cause him to look at me like that a lot. I don't mean to, it just happens...sort of.
I just can't do things Jack's way. Jack has years of field experience on me and I know I'll be a long time trying to gain half of his instincts, but I just can't close my mind and feelings off the way he seems to.
And I know him well enough to know it only seems that way. Jack feels things deeply....there is no doubt in my mind about that. It's in his eyes, that little flinching thing that tells me something has gotten through to the very soft heart underneath that military barrier he so often uses as a catch-all for all the rough...read: emotional...stuff.
Jack's ready to move again. I'm not, really, but we're not getting any closer to home at this pace. He reaches out to help me up and....
God! The pain is blinding....
I feel Jack holding on to me and try to tell him I'm okay, but...
"Uh huh."
I guess it's hard to convince someone you aren't in pain when you can't stand up straight.
Jack keeps a firm grip on me until I can stand. He relaxes it a little, but doesn't let go. I'm kind of glad he doesn't.
I want to tell him I'm sorry to be such a pain, sorry I said all that...stuff...back in the village, but right now I can't concentrate on much more than walking upright...
I don't know how long we walk this way, his hand on my arm...guiding, supporting...but I feel him stop beside me and open my eyes.
Jack's looking at the Stargate in pain and relief.
I'm looking at Jack, trying to find some way to express how much I regret everything that's happened between us over the past day...the words, the anger, my own weakness...
He just gives me that other 'look'. That exasperated "we're going to talk about this later" look that I've come to know so well...and dread. I can handle Jack's military look. This look comes from a different place, a place in Jack that I know and respect more than the other. A place that cares, that feels, that understands....
It's a look I have yet to figure a way around...
But I'm working on it.