The human practice of knocking was one Teal’c had picked up quickly, especially after a rather embarrassing incident involving Captain Carter and the shower, but this time he knew better than to invoke it. It would not be good to startle the room’s occupants.
He wasn’t sure what he’d find when he silently opened the door and went in, but it wasn’t what met his eyes. The bed in the center of the room was empty and Daniel Jackson was instead crouched in the far corner, arms wrapped around his legs, much as Rya’c would curl up after a bad dream when he was still much younger. Only this was no dream, nor did Teal’c have words of comfort that would help his friend as they’d helped his son.
The other person in the room rose even at his soundless entrance and turned to meet him, pale face furrowed with fatigue. Captain Carter smiled at him as she usually did in greeting much to his pleased puzzlement, but even an offworlder like he had learned to read the worry that settled behind her light eyes. She was his teammate and such familiarity was important tactically, but perhaps just as importantly, she was his friend. And he could feel her distress nearly as much as the object of her concern, still huddled across the room.
"Teal’c. I thought you were asleep--"
"It is morning. I have slept," he said, nodding his head once.
"0300 doesn’t quite count like morning--I’d still call it the middle of the night," she protested, but she was smiling more now.
Teal’c was glad to see it. "I have rested, but you have not. I would like to stay now with Daniel Jackson." One glance at the corner revealed a certain set to the anthropologist’s body that showed awareness of Teal’c’s presence, perhaps even understanding of the quiet conversation, but no other sign of response.
Captain Carter’s glance followed his own, her eyes lingering sadly on their teammate. "You don’t have to do anything, just...be with him. It seems to help him not to be alone." She looked back at Teal’c, hesitating like she or Daniel Jackson sometimes did when they weren’t sure he would understand something. Apparently she decided he would. "He’s still a little rocky but he’s getting better."
Teal’c looked back at her, eyebrow rising. What Daniel Jackson’s disquiet had to do with stones, the Jaffa wasn’t quite sure, but he did understand the context. And the tone of the last part of the statement, that bravado humans seemed to call "optimism." He knew he was to respond in kind and simply nodded once again.
Captain Carter appeared to relax a little with his agreement, and she pressed her lips together in a silent thanks before walking over to Daniel Jackson, kneeling for a moment at his side as she talked to him. Still no response, aside from shying away from the hand she touched to his arm, then a jerky, almost apologetic nod before he lapsed into ignoring her once more. With a sigh Teal’c could hear across the room, Captain Carter pushed herself back to her feet and crossed the room again, giving him a last glance before she went out the door and shut it behind her.
Teal’c stood a moment, then moved to the chair she had vacated and sat down, his eyes on Daniel Jackson as if he were on guard duty. In some ways, he was.
From this distance, Teal’c noticed, the anthropologist wasn’t quite still after all, but rather rocked ever so slightly back and forth, his eyes blankly gazing at the floor. It was...unnerving to see the friend he’d grown so used to being constantly active and full of life reduced to this. All because of a sarcophagus, yet another "gift" of the false gods. Teal’c’s lip curled at the old anger. He had not understood this..."addiction" that his teammates spoke of, although O’Neill had quietly taken him aside and explained the basics. But even before that, Teal’c had still known that the callousness and violence of the usually wide-hearted younger man was not of Daniel Jackson’s volition or control. Indeed, being the first to arrive upon the alarm’s sounding and seeing the anthropologist on the floor of the supply closet, shaking in O’Neill’s arms, had been all the proof Teal’c would have needed that the rest of the team didn’t blame Daniel Jackson for his actions, either. They were even willing to help him until he regained control once more. That evident compassion was one of the reasons he had left the Serpent Guard to join these humans. And why he had eventually become an avowed friend instead of just a teammate.
And why, 24 hours later, he was here to take his turn at his comrade’s side. If company, as O’Neill called it, helped in Daniel Jackson’s recovery, then Teal’c would willingly sit there all day.
Daniel Jackson abruptly shot to his feet and out of the corner, heading for the door.
There had been no warning, but surprise and his desperate speed were still no match for Teal’c’s reflexes and determination. The Jaffa was at the door in two long strides, taking a stance calmly in front of it.
"Let me out, Teal’c." The voice was low, hoarse and angry. "I’ve gotta get out of here." He pulled ineffectively with both hands at one if Teal’c arms, trying to pry him away from the avenue to freedom.
Teal’c met the bloodshot stare with an even look of his own. "I cannot do that, Daniel Jackson. You have been forbidden to return to P3R-636."
The sweaty brown hair shook violently. "I don’t want to go to the ‘gate. I just want to take a walk. I’m sick of this room. That’s all."
"I am sorry, I do not believe you can yet control the urge to return to the sarcophagus. I cannot let you pass."
One last anxious jerk of his arm, then Daniel Jackson let go at once, face crumpling in fear and near-hatred. "I can’t stay here, don’t you understand?!" He whirled away. "I’m losing my marbles in here."
Teal’c frowned at that. "What are ‘marbles’?"
A snort of bitter laughter from his friend. "Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna lose ‘em either way." He sank to the floor, arms wrapping around himself. "It’s so cold in here."
Was this a trick to get him away from the door? Teal’c studied the anthropologist from behind, seeing the shivers running through him. Doctor Fraiser had said that it was possible excess heat and cold would be among the symptoms of withdrawal, and besides, Teal’c would not be far from the door. He stepped forward, taking a rumpled blanket from the bed and laying it around Daniel Jackson’s shoulders, his movements slow as though around a wounded creature. In many ways, the comparison was apt. His teammate’s only reaction was to pull the covering close and huddle into it.
Teal’s waited a moment longer, but when that seemed the end of the anthropologist’s escape attempt, the Jaffa returned to his seat several feet from the crouched Daniel Jackson’s side.
Minutes passed in silence.
"I don’t mean any of it," the scientist croaked abruptly, gaze yet again on the floor.
"I did not think you did."
Quiet fell again. Daniel Jackson shuffled a little closer to the bed, leaning against it even as shivers continued to shake him.
Cold? Or the struggle for control? That he held at bay the powerful forces in him at all, deeply impressed Teal’c.
"You can go back to bed now," the anthropologist spoke up again, his eyes closed but weary hope in his voice.
"I do not believe so, Daniel Jackson."
"Why do you use two names for everyone, Teal’c?" Daniel Jackson went on as if he hadn’t even heard the Jaffa’s refusal, one eye opening to peer at Teal’c with bleary curiosity. "You only have one."
An interesting thought. Teal’c canted his head as he considered. "Daniel Jackson was what I was told when we first exchanged names. Both names are used by others as well, are they not?" He knew already that they were, but the conversation was the first one he’d had with Daniel Jackson since that Go’auld-cursed planet, and Teal’c welcomed the return to normalcy.
"Well...yeah...but we’re friends now. You can call me just Daniel."
"Just Daniel," Teal’c tried it out. "That is still two names, Daniel Jackson."
"No, no," the anthropologist rolled his head from side to side. "I don’t mean...never mind, it’s not important."
The topic interested Teal’c and he would have liked to understand, but he didn’t press. Perhaps he could ask O’Neill to explain it to him later--at least one person he did not call by two names, but it did not seem the time to remind his companion of that.
He fell silent instead, watching carefully as Daniel Jackson once more got to his feet, this time slowly and with tired difficulty. The Jaffa briefly considered offering to help, then decided against it. He had seen from Captain Carter’s actions that physical contact made the anthropologist uncomfortable.
Daniel Jackson didn’t even look at the door, heading for the far wall instead, then turning so he paced its length. The blanket dropped off his shoulders but he didn’t seem cold anymore, merely unable to be still despite his obvious fatigue. One silent circle of the room followed another, the door passed each time as if it didn’t exist.
"Say something, Teal’c," Daniel Jackson finally spoke up as he reached a corner and, instead of rounding it, turned back to pace the wall in the other direction. "Talk about something."
Teal’c raised an eyebrow. "What do you wish me to talk about, Daniel Jackson?"
The path became back and forth, a slow turnabout at each corner to retrace his steps. "Anything. Tell me a Jaffa legend."
Again, there was a momentary reminder of Rya’c and his love for stories of his father’s exploits. Teal’c’s other eyebrow rose. A story? Perhaps Daniel Jackson needed merely to hear a voice, but still...
"Very well," he nodded, thinking for a moment. Yes, there was a good story he could tell. Rya’c had enjoyed it, too, but it seemed more appropriate now. "There is a legend only whispered among the Jaffa, a forbidden tale. It the legend of Idris, he who was a god and then was no longer."
A pause. "You mean he was destroyed," Daniel Jackson mumbled, still moving. At least he was trying to listen. Teal’c silently approved.
"No. He lived but the Go’auld in him did not. He was no longer of the gods."
Daniel Jackson’s head came up at that and he paused, one hand on the wall next to him. "You mean he was a host but he was able to get rid of the Go’auld? He was cured?"
"So it is told. A plague swept the land, one that struck the Go’auld but not the host. The other gods left before it could destroy them, but Idris was lost by then. Only the host, a man by the name of Rakesh, survived."
"A plague that kills Go’auld but not the hosts," Daniel Jackson breathed, fascinated despite himself. Teal’c nearly smiled to see it; it was no surprise to him that his teammate’s curiosity was greater than even the sarcophagus could quench. "Do you know where that place is, Teal’c?"
The Jaffa shook his head. "I am sorry, Daniel Jackson, I do not. As I have said, it is only a legend among my people, whispered in secret to keep from angering the Go’auld lords."
The slump returned to the anthropologist's shoulders, but he was listening with more attention than before. "Go on."
"Once Rakesh was freed of Idris, he was filled with shame for his actions while under Idris’ control. The Go’auld had used his knowledge to seek out and kill many of the friends of Rakesh and had brought much grief to his people. Rakesh could not face the hatred of his loved ones and resolved to exile himself from his land."
"It wasn’t his fault," Daniel Jackson whispered. "He couldn’t control Idris."
"Indeed." Teal’c looked at him steadily. "But Rakesh could not comprehend this. All he could see was that he had brought great pain and misery to those he cared for."
"So he left."
"He attempted to do so. However, his people would not allow him to. They rejoiced at the death of Idris their tormentor, and welcomed back the long-lost Rakesh into their midst. Rakesh could not understand. How could they bear to look upon his face after what he had done? He attempted then to end his life, to die more honorably than he had lived. But again his wife and closest friends halted his intentions. It grieved them to see what Idris had done to Rakesh, but they had no anger toward Rakesh for Idris’ actions."
Daniel Jackson was silent, slumped against the wall to the right, his hair dark with sweat and limp in his face. Teal’c could not see his eyes, but he knew the anthropologist was listening.
"It was not easy for Rakesh to accept that he was free of Idris and accepted back among his people, but in time he did understand that we not to blame for the Go’auld’s actions and that his loved ones could truly take him back as he once was. To atone for Idris’ shame, Rakesh devoted himself to helping his people and became legend for all the good he did in his lifetime."
Daniel Jackson was breathing heavily, his arms once more wrapped around himself. "The sarcophagus isn’t the same as being taken over by a Go’auld, Teal’c," he finally scraped out.
"I did not say it was, Daniel Jackson. However, I believe both do not allow you to control your actions."
"I could still choose."
"As could I when I served under Apophis. Yet I served for him many years."
Daniel Jackson shook his head. "That was slavery, Teal’c. You didn’t have any real choice."
It still amazed Teal’c that one with as much innocence as Daniel Jackson could be the equal of his warrior teammates, yet he was. Perhaps because his innocence allowed him to consider all without prejudice. Except for himself now, thanks to the sarcophagus. "It was still my choice to act as I did, and to turn on Apophis when I did, just as you chose. You chose not to shoot O’Neill. You chose to have us freed when you were able."
"After you all nearly died in the mines." Daniel Jackson seemed to be conversing with the floor, his voice nearly gone but still fed by raw feeling.
"But we did not perish."
"You almost did."
"But we did not."
Another unamused laugh. "Tell that to Jack."
Teal’c tilted his head. "I do not understand."
Daniel Jackson dragged himself back to the bed, pulling himself up on its edge with visible effort. "Jack blames me. He knows you three almost died down there while I was...feasting with Shyla."
Ah, Teal’c understood. O’Neill he saw better than any of the others. "That is not true, Daniel Jackson--O’Neill does not blame you. He is angry, but it is anger for you, not against you."
"He told you that?" The question wasn’t intended to be an honest one--there was a heaviness of what humans called "sarcasm" in it--but the look he gave Teal’c did not show the same feeling. Why did humans so often not say what they really meant?
"It was he who explained to me this ‘addiction’--" Teal’c saw his friend wince at the word and resolved not to use it again, "--and said you were not to blame. I believe his exact words were, ‘It was all that frigging snake coffin.’ I do not know this ‘frigging coffin,’ but I expect he meant the sarcophagus."
Daniel Jackson lay down along the edge of the bed and curled up on his side, facing the wall, but Teal’c could see that his arms were now around a pillow instead of himself. His voice, however, was wet with the sound of tears that Doctor Fraiser had also said would come.
"Yeah, Teal’c. That’s what he meant."
The Jaffa sat, uncertain whether this was good or not. Perhaps this further step meant the anthropologist was that much closer to the end of his withdrawal. It certainly seemed that he had gotten something out of Teal’c’s story, and that had been the older man’s intention.
The tremors of Daniel Jackson’s body, whether from release of emotion as Doctor Fraiser had said or the chills and struggle of the withdrawal, finally stopped, and Teal’c could hear the deepening of breath that signalled sleep. It was a fitful sleep, but the anthropologist still had not wakened when O’Neill came in to sit with him for a while. The team leader just soberly waved the Jaffa off.
Troubled, Teal’c left to return to his room.
By the time it would have again been Teal’c turn to sit with his teammate, Doctor Fraiser said that Daniel Jackson was "over the hump," which presumably meant he was finally improving and only required a great deal of rest and peace. The remainder of SG-1 was ordered to get some rest, themselves, and no longer seemed to be needed to sit by their teammate’s side to help the anthropologist keep control and stave off his panic. And put their own minds to rest, if Teal’c would have admitted such a need, but was another matter. If Daniel Jackson was healing thus, the Jaffa had no desire to upset that, and knew Captain Carter and O’Neill felt the same way. So Teal’c stayed in his room, watching television, meditating, and waiting to be summoned.
Which was why the hesitant knock on his door the third day was a surprise.
"Come."
The door opened with equal reluctance, and it was with both pleasure and concern that Teal’c saw Daniel Jackson peer inside. "Teal’c? Are you busy? I don’t want to bother--"
"It is not a bother. Please enter."
He did, shutting the door behind him and standing in front of it, shifting from one foot to another in what Teal’c recognized as awkwardness, another human characteristic. His eyes were still dark-ringed in memory of his ordeal and he fidgeted more than usual, the movement of his clothes as he did revealing a too-thin frame. Recovery would not be swift or immediate, Teal’c had always known, but was gratified to see Daniel Jackson was wearing his glasses again and the blue eyes no longer held that frightening fervent brightness, clear and themselves once more. It was a vast improvement.
"Would you like to have a chair, Daniel Jackson?" Teal’c prompted, nodding toward the only one in the room. Despite SG-1’s attempts, the room was still a barren one, as Teal’c wished it to be. He remained seated on the bed.
Daniel Jackson’s eyes immediately went to the chair. "A seat," he absently corrected, taking it. "Yeah, thanks." And with legs crossed, one hand rubbing against the uppermost leg, he sat in silence.
"I am glad to see you are doing well," Teal’c said. "It is good to see you out of the infirmary." And trusted to walk the base freely again, but they both knew that without his needing to add it.
"Uh, thanks." Again pause, as if summoning his courage, then Daniel Jackson’s eyes met his straightforwardly, still more improvement. "Teal’c, I just wanted to thank you for...what you said a few days ago." Another restless glance around the room. "I’m still not sure that you can compare what...what happened with me to what Apophis put you through, or being a Go’auld host like..." Teal’c did not need to have known Daniel Jackson for as long as he did to know what he would have said there, but his respect for the young man grew yet again.
The anthropologist’s fidgeting stopped. His gaze was steady on Teal’c again and this time didn’t falter.
"I just wanted to say...I don’t remember all of it but it did help. I’m still not sure I can trust me as much as you all seem to," a fleeting, sad grin, "but I talked to Jack and he told me about something he went through..." The eyes hadn’t moved but they didn’t see Teal’c for a moment. "I...I understand some of it now." His attention returned. "I’m going to ask Jack and General Hammond if we can go back to P3R-636 and try to help those people."
Teal’c nodded once approvingly, a smile pulling at his mouth.
The scientist stood. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that. Thanks for...everything." And he turned to go.
"Daniel Jackson."
He stopped, turned. His eyes still fought the shame of looking at Teal’c, but that would also heal.
"The measure of a man is not how he acts when he is not under his own control, but how he acts afterward."
A slow nod, one of real comprehension, accompanied by the first genuine, if small, smile Teal’c had seen his friend offer in many days. It was odd to miss such things, but he had. Daniel Jackson turned back to the door and left, his steps reserved but stubborn once more.
And in the privacy of his room, Teal’c sat back and grinned.
© July. 2003 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.