The cramps woke him from a restless sleep. Daniel groaned as he rolled out of bed and walked hunched over to the bathroom. Bile rose in his throat and he got to his knees in front of the toilet, dry heaving. Ten minutes later he was wondering how on earth anything could be left inside of him. He shivered as his fever rose, and sweat coated his face.
So much for finishing up getting all his stuff unpacked in his new house, he thought before a new bout of cramps had him doubled over once more. The night and early morning became surreal—a haze of pain and fever. By the time sunlight was lighting a small patch of tile in the bathroom, Daniel was certain he was going to die. He'd felt fine when he came home from the Mountain yesterday morning. SG-1 had completed a mission with no mishaps and despite Jack's urgings for company, Daniel had begged off, coming home instead to his new house. He'd eaten some chicken he'd bought from the supermarket deli a day before their latest mission and then settled down to trying to get things organized. At least he hadn't needed to worry about all the paperwork involved in bringing a man back from the dead. General Hammond and his staff had taken care of those details with supreme efficiency. Unpacking was taking him longer than usual, memories surfacing with each box he sorted through. He knew Jack would have helped if he'd asked, but this was something he needed to do alone. Needed to feel he had some control over his life once more. And now the few days off he had were evidently going to be spent being sick.
Daniel pushed himself up from the floor and stood on wobbly legs. He
knew he was getting dehydrated, the headache behind his eyes and the
fact he'd stopped sweating a sure sign of it. For a moment he thought
of calling Jack but then decided against it. There was no point another
member of SG-1 got sick too. Besides he was pretty sure Jack was
talking about going up to
Whoa, he was dizzy. Daniel stopped walking about halfway to his kitchen, standing still until the moment passed. Cramps in his stomach caused him to curl over, holding his belly and spots danced behind his eyes. He raised his head, thinking he could make it to the couch. Daniel managed one step, then two before his world went black.
* * * *
Jack whistled as he strode up the sidewalk to Daniel's house. Daniel
may have insisted he didn't need help to get all his stuff unpacked,
but Jack knew better. The task of packing up all of Daniel's belongings
after
He wanted new memories now. Daniel being returned to them was an unbelievable gift. Their friendship had gotten far off-track before, and he wasn't even sure why. Jack only knew that a year without Daniel in his life was a year he didn't want to ever live again. They were settling back into what felt right, a rhythm to their relationship, a give and take of equals—at least on the work front. The easy friendship they'd had outside of work was taking a little bit longer to rebuild. But at least he knew Daniel wouldn't kick him out. Daniel would insist he didn't need help, Jack would persuade him he did, and another brick would be added to the foundation that had crumbled into disrepair.
Jack knocked on the door, surprised no music was coming from the house. When there was no sound from inside, Jack frowned. He'd seen Daniel's car parked in the street.
Knocking again, he called, "Daniel?" Jack shook his hand after he pounded on the door once more. He'd told Daniel he needed to get the doorbell fixed. Maybe he could work on it later. Jack dug in his pocket for the key to the house. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Daniel had given him the copy when Jack had helped him move in.
"You used to have one, didn't you?" Daniel had asked, studying the floor after offering the key like a present.
"Yeah. I had one." Jack nodded and stuck the key on his ring right next to his own house key feeling that there was something right about the gesture.
The smell of sickness hit him as soon as he opened the door, and Jack's heart pounded in his chest when there was no sign of Daniel.
"Daniel?" he looked in the bedroom, seeing a pile of dirty clothes in the corner and wrinkling his nose at the smell emanating from them. The bed had been slept in, but the blanket was falling half off the bed. The bathroom door was half closed and Jack knocked on it before opening it. Jack closed it just as quickly when the smell of vomit and other bodily functions assaulted his nose.
He walked back into the living room and headed down the short hall to the kitchen.
"Daniel!" Jack's mouth went dry when he discovered the other man lying in the doorway to the small kitchen. He got to his knees, reaching out to feel for a pulse when there was no response from his friend. The heartbeat raced under his fingertips, and Jack was reaching for his cell phone when Daniel let out a groan.
"Daniel?" Jack shook at his shoulder. "Daniel? You with me?"
"Unnhuhh."
"Daniel?" Jack turned him over.
Blue eyes opened a slit. "Jack?"
"That would be me. You wanna tell me what you're doing on the floor?" Jack was concerned at how weak Daniel seemed, his hand barely able to find purchase in Jack's khakis.
"Huh? Floor?" Daniel pushed his hands to the floor, and Jack saw his expression change to one of alarm.
"Hang on, buddy." Jack put his hands under Daniel's armpits and pulled him up, supporting most of his weight when it seemed Daniel wasn't going to take much of his own.
"Bathroom." Daniel gasped and they made their way down the hall, Jack knocking his elbow against the wall and trying to keep Daniel from ending up face down on the floor.
"Agh." Daniel clutched at his stomach, and Jack held him up as he opened the bathroom door. "Leave me alone, Jack."
"I've seen you throw up before, Daniel."
"Not gonna throw up." Daniel said between gritted teeth.
"Ah," Jack helped him to the toilet and then left the small room, letting the door open slightly. "I'm going to get you some water and juice, Daniel." Jack called in, trying to ignore the pained sounds coming from the bathroom.
He walked back to the kitchen, searching for a glass in the cabinet. A take-out carton was on the counter marked with the name of a local supermarket, and Jack was on the phone to Fraiser.
"Hey doc. I'm at Daniel's. I think he might have food poisoning. Wasn't there a story on the news today about contaminated chicken from Webster's? Yeah, well, he seems pretty sick. I found him on the floor when I got here. I don't know how long he's been sick." Jack filled a glass with water, closing the refrigerator door with disgust when he saw the empty shelves. He listened to Fraiser's instructions. "Yeah, I think Mercy General is the closest. I can take him there. I'll call you from there."
By the time Jack got back to the bedroom, Daniel was standing at the door. Standing might not have been the best word for it, Jack quickly revised. He slipped an arm around Daniel's waist, supporting him and taking some of his weight, not liking the tremors he felt beneath his hands.
"Here, Daniel, try and take a few sips of this." Jack held the glass to Daniel's lips when Daniel made no effort to take the glass himself.
"Blood," Daniel whispered. "There was blood."
"When you just…?" Jack jerked his head back in the direction of the bathroom.
Daniel's breath was coming in short gasps, but he managed to nod.
"Okay, let's get you lying down in bed." Jack started to take a step and had to turn to ease Daniel to the floor as his friend's legs buckled. He kept one hand on Daniel's chest as he hit the speed dial for Fraiser. Daniel's heart was pounding under his hand as if the other man had just been running.
"Doc, Daniel just told me there was blood when he went to the bathroom and he's passed out on the floor now. His heart is going a mile a minute." Jack's words tumbled out in his fear for his friend. This wasn't like being on a mission where he knew strategy. All he knew now was that Daniel was in deep trouble.
"Colonel, I want you to get a pillow and elevate his feet." Jack scrambled on hands and knees and pulled a pillow off the bed.
"Okay, doc. Got the pillow under his feet.."
"How's his breathing?" Fraiser's voice was calm. "Transport is on its way. They should be there in about ten or fifteen minutes. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, doc. I understand. His breathing sounds normal now, but it sounded like he was gasping earlier."
"Can you take his pulse for me?" Fraiser continued. "Do you have it, sir?"
"I have it." Jack pressed fingers to Daniel's neck. "It's too fast, doc."
"Start counting now." Fraiser ordered and Jack concentrated on the racing beat under his fingers, trying to concentrate only on counting and not on the pallor of Daniel's skin.
"Stop." Fraiser told him and asked for the number. "Can you rouse him, sir? Is Daniel responsive?"
"I'll check." Jack put the phone on the floor and tapped Daniel's cheek. "Daniel. Come on, Daniel. Wake up." He was rewarded by a slight fluttering of Daniel's eyelids. Encouraged by the movement, Jack tapped his face once more. "Hey, wake up." Daniel turned his head and frowned, opening his eyes and looking at Jack.
"Jack? You here?" Daniel mumbled.
"He's awake, doc." Jack said into the phone. He moved so Daniel could see him better. "I'm just talking to Doc Fraiser, Daniel. She's got an ambulance on the way."
Daniel stared at him as if he was speaking an unfamiliar language. He licked at his lips. "Thirsty." He managed to say before pulling his arms across his stomach. "Jack, help."
Jack saw the heaving begin and rolled Daniel to his side as the little bit of water Daniel had drunk came back up.
"Sorry," Daniel gasped out as he began heaving once more.
"Help's on the way, Daniel." Jack felt helpless, as helpless as he'd felt a year ago when his best friend lay bandaged and dying on a bed in the infirmary. Damn it, he wasn't going to let Daniel be taken from him again. He wasn't going to allow Daniel to suffer alone this time. "I'm right here," he said, rubbing a circle on Daniel's back as he reached for the phone.
"Doc, where the hell is that ambulance?" Jack barked into the phone, regretting it when he saw Daniel's wince.
"They'll soon be there, sir. You need to stay calm. Daniel needs you to stay calm." Fraiser continued speaking in her professional manner. "Can you hear the ambulance? They just turned up Daniel's street."
Jack pulled the phone away from his ear but didn't take his hand off of Daniel's back. The siren came closer and Jack spoke into the phone. "I'm coming with him, doc."
"I know, sir. I already told the medics to allow you in the ambulance." Fraiser said. "They'll take good care of him until he gets to me. You need to go let them in the house, sir. I'll be waiting for Daniel here."
Jack nodded, only realizing after he hit the off switch that Fraiser couldn't see him through the phone. "Door's open." He shouted to the medics who were knocking on the door. "We're in here."
Jack recognized the two medics from the infirmary and scooted out of their way. Within a minute, they had Daniel on IV lines, hooked up to a heart monitor and oxygen and on the gurney.
"Doctor Fraiser said you are to come with us, sir." One of them said as they began wheeling Daniel through the house.
Getting to his feet awkwardly, Jack followed them out the door and down the sidewalk. The ride to the base was one he would always remember as a blur. He sat on the bench opposite from Daniel, pulling his legs up to keep them out of the way of the medics. Jack wasn't an expert on medical speak by any stretch of the imagination but he was excellent at reading people, and the controlled chaos surrounding Daniel's body told him things were definitely going to hell in a hand basket.
A burst of even more frantic activity a few miles from the base entrance had Jack leaning forward, trying to understand. He could hear Daniel's breathing, seeming even more labored in the past few minutes. A noxious odor filled the ambulance, and Jack closed his eyes as he heard Daniel groaning. He clenched his fists and hit his thighs.
"Let's go," one of the medics called as they pulled inside the mountain. Jack felt caught up in a whirlwind as they rushed Daniel to the infirmary, and he followed.
"Doc, he started having PVCs a few minutes ago. They've been increasing in frequency. BP is 80 over 40 and falling. Patient has been non-responsive to verbal stimulation although he roused to pain."
Fraiser nodded her head, looking up to see Jack standing there. "Colonel O'Neill I need you to leave." She turned her attention back to Daniel, glancing at the monitors. "Now, Colonel, sir."
Jack nodded, leaving the room, his own stomach turning somersaults. He heard Fraiser giving some rapid fire order and then her command to Daniel. "Stay with me, Doctor Jackson." And for some reason, that had him chilled to his core.
Two hours, thirty seven minutes and twenty three, no make that twenty four second. That was how long he was sitting in a plastic chair waiting for Fraiser to come out and tell him how Daniel was doing. His lower back ached, and his knee was giving him hell for kneeling on Daniel's hardwood floor. Jack leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, visions of Daniel's pale face appearing in his mind every time he closed his eyes.
"Sir?"
Jack's head came up at Carter's voice. "What are you doing here,
Carter? I thought you were headed up to
"I was, O'Neill. The cadets were rapid learners. MajorCarter provided transportation for me."
"General Hammond called me, sir. He told me Daniel's sick." Carter's eyes flicked from Jack to the infirmary doors and back again. "Sir?"
"I don't know, Carter." Jack slowly rotated his head from left to right, hearing a crackling noise as he did so. "He ate some chicken…you know Daniel, he doesn't usually turn on his radio or TV to catch up on anything, so he probably missed the news that the stuff was contaminated."
"How long, sir?" Carter was worried. He could tell by the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers tapping on her thigh.
"Carter, I said I don't know." Jack rubbed at his hair. He stood up, motioning for her to sit. If Fraiser didn't come out of there in the next five minutes, he didn't give a damn. He was going in there to find out just what was taking so long.
"O'Neill. Perhaps you are in need of sustenance." Teal'c offered.
"What I'm in need of is knowing what's going on." Jack said, his words sharper than he intended. He couldn't stand this waiting. It reminded him too much of waiting before, waiting for Daniel to die in his own fluids while his insides melted away. Jack took eleven steps, enough to get him away from the others, enough for him to start to exorcise those memories, enough for him to try to forget his failings. The pacing didn't help, he decided. He looked at the cement wall and wondered if he could put his fist through it—the need to do something, anything overwhelming. He rested his hand on the wall, letting the cold seep into his fingers.
"Janet?" Carter sounded scared, and Jack turned to see Fraiser standing near the chair.
"How is he, doc?" Jack took those eleven steps back, searching the doctor's face for some clue to Daniel's condition. He wasn't overjoyed at what he saw there.
"Definitely food poisoning, sir. You were right." She nodded in his direction. "He's dehydrated. From what we were able to gather from Daniel, he got sick sometime last night and spent most of that time vomiting. It's good you found him when you did, Colonel, because his condition was deteriorating." She placed her hands in her lab coat pockets. "We have him on IVs to replace the fluids. We're also giving him a unit of blood due to bleeding. His blood pressure remains low, and we're keeping a close eye on that. We have him hooked up to a heart monitor. He was exhibiting some heart arrhythmias when he was brought in. I have every reason to believe that will resolve itself as we get his electrolytes back in balance. His temperature is high but isn't going higher for now which is a good sign." She stopped looking at all of them.
Jack saw Teal'c place a hand on Carter's shoulder. Looking at the infirmary doors, Jack motioned to Fraiser. "Can I see him?" he said, his voice coming out hoarse and almost a whisper.
Fraiser hesitated. "We've moved him to the intensive care unit, sir. For now, Daniel is being monitored closely."
If he needed to, Jack was ready to beg, but it wasn't necessary as Fraiser studied his face.
"I'll give you a few minutes, sir, but that's it. I don't want any added stress on Daniel." She held out her hand, indicating for him to walk ahead of her.
"Sir?"
Jack turned at Carter's soft call, raising his eyebrows in question.
"Will you tell him Teal'c and I are thinking of him?"
"Yeah, yeah, Carter. I'll do that." He nodded and followed Fraiser through the doors.
The ICU in the infirmary wasn't big, not much more than a few beds in a more secluded area arranged in a semi-circle to allow easier access for the medical staff.
"Sir," Fraiser stopped him with one arm on his hand, "we've given Daniel an injection of morphine for the pain. He's not going to be very awake. He's hooked up to a lot of equipment. As I said, I believe Daniel will make a full recovery."
"He'll know I'm there." Jack said. If there was one thing he was sure of it was that.
Daniel looked small, that was Jack's first thought seeing him lying in the bed. He had to close his eyes and shake his head when bandages superimposed themselves on Daniel's form. 'Get a grip,' Jack told himself and took the few steps to the bed.
"Hey, Daniel." Jack said, keeping his voice low.
An IV line snaked from near Daniel's collarbone while another line fed blood into his arm. Bags hung from the side of the bed, and Jack quickly averted his eyes from those. Although he couldn't see them, Jack knew the wires coming out from underneath Daniel's hospital gown were connected to the heart monitor. A clip on the end of Daniel's right index finger monitored oxygen in his blood. Jack could hear Daniel's breathlessness even with the oxygen being provided by a nasal cannula.
"Hey there, buddy." Jack whispered, placing his palm on Daniel's forehead, the only place he felt was safe to touch him. Although Fraiser had warned him there was a fever, he wasn't prepared for how hot Daniel felt. "How you doing?"
Daniel turned his head at Jack's voice, opening his eyes and blinking a few times. "Papa? I feel sick, Papa. It hurts."
"It's me, Daniel." Jack bent closer, his throat hurting with the lump that had formed there. "Jack. You're in the infirmary, Daniel. At the SGC. You're gonna be okay."
"Hurts." Daniel repeated. "Make it stop hurting."
"Hey, the doc is giving you some of her happy juice. It's gonna stop, Daniel. I promise." Jack brushed back Daniel's hair from his forehead. "You're sick, but you're gonna get better."
"Don't want to die. Jack, don't want to die alone." Daniel murmured, rolling his head away from Jack and his touch.
Jack let his hand fall to the pillow, his mouth gone dry.
"Sir, you'll need to go now." Fraiser whispered, and Jack straightened from his bent position.
"He thought I was his dad." Jack looked down at her. He wouldn't tell her the other, the accusation of his mistakes.
"He's on pretty strong medication, sir. And combined with the infection, I'm not surprised he's confused." Fraiser said. She looked at the monitors and gave a small nod. Jack wasn't sure if it meant good or bad.
"You can come back in two hours, Colonel O'Neill. Not before then."
"Yes, doc." Jack said. He was going to get Carter to drive him to Daniel's apartment to pick up his truck and while he was there, he figured he could at least get the mess of Daniel's sickness cleaned up.
August 7, 2005 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.