CHAPTER 9 - NEED
Trust
Part 1 - Prologue
I'm back on active duty, as of tomorrow. I went out with the team last night to dinner and a movie, and while we were eating I told Jack I was ready to come back.
I'm the first to admit I was having some problems dealing with everything that happened in that virtual New York Museum of Art on the Keeper's planet, but I'm also the first to admit I was refusing to admit I was having problems. When Jack put me on bereavement leave, I'm afraid I became a little defensive. When I asked him how long he planned to keep me on stand down, he told me it wasn't up to him, that I'd know when I was ready to come back. When I was ready, all I had to do was tell him. That pretty much took the wind out of my sails.
As it turned out, I took a week off. Jack was right when he said I needed some time off and he was also right when he said that I'd know when I was ready to come back. Sometimes I wonder just when it was Jack got to know me so well.
As we were settling up the bill at the restaurant I saw him pull Sam aside to talk to her. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when we were heading for Jack's jeep, he said our plans had changed. It was Sam's turn to pick the movie, and she had chosen a little foreign film she'd been wanting to see (and I think she knows it annoys the hell out of Jack to have to read subtitles), but she was relinquishing her turn to Jack. Jack wouldn't give us a clue as to where we were going, and Sam had a grin on her face but wasn't talking, so Teal'c and I just sat back for the ride.
When we finally arrived at the theatre, a little place clear across town, it was to something called the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'm a linguist, but I admit that words fail me when it comes to describing the experience. I finally decided to look at it through the eyes of an anthropologist studying a strange and alien culture. That seemed to help.
But what I want to know is, how is it that both Jack and Sam knew all the lyrics to every song in that movie...
Okay, the truth is, we had a great time. By the time we left the theater we were all laughing (well, Teal'c was puzzled, but I think he was amused as well) and relaxed. And, of course, that was Jack's intent all along. It hadn't escaped my notice that everyone had been walking on eggshells around me since getting back from P7J090, not wanting to upset me, not wanting to say anything to remind me of what happened there. Even after I told everyone I was ready to come back, I could tell they were still trying to be careful around me. If we had gone on a mission with those little tensions between us, it could have been disastrous.
But by the time we came out of that theater, holding our sides from laughing too much -- not only at the performances on the screen but at the antics of the audience around us -- we were back to normal. No more eggshells. And I realized the rest of the team needed this release just as much as I did.
I've never had friends like this before, people who cared about me so much. Along with Sha're, they are the most important people in my life, and I would die to keep them safe.
D. Jackson
***
Part 2 - "You can get through it."
*Jack O'Neill*
"What now?"
My voice is so hoarse I hardly recognize it as I force the question out. After sobbing himself into unconsciousness in my arms, we carried Daniel from the storage room to the infirmary. He's still unconscious, but his body is twitching as if tormented by some deep, unrelenting pain, and his head is rolling back and forth on the pillow restlessly. It's all I can do to stand here and look at him like this.
But I have to. This is where I have to be.
From across the bed, Janet Fraiser lifts her head, and one look at the expression in her eyes tells me just how grim this situation is. "Now," she says quietly, "I try to keep him as comfortable as possible. But there's only so much I can do, Colonel. His body is going through a very painful physical withdrawal."
"I thought you said he was through the worst of it." It comes out as an accusation before I can stop myself, but dammit that's what she said and I let myself believe it. All that got me was a face-off with a loaded gun in the hands of my best friend, a man who can barely tolerate having one strapped to his thigh when we go on missions.
She straightens and meets my gaze without a flinch. "I did. But bear in mind, Colonel, this isn't addiction like we've ever encountered before. The sarcophagus is a Goa'uld device --"
I wave that aside as I acknowledge the truth of her statement. "I know, I know. Sorry. It's just..." I break off with a sharp shake of my head, not really able to put it into words. Christ, just look at him! He's hardly recognizable as Daniel, our Daniel. Our Daniel wouldn't have left his friends to slowly die in a mine while he lived it up topside; our Daniel wouldn't have callously pushed aside all thoughts of Sha're and agreed to marry that little sarcophagus-pushing bitch on P3R636; our Daniel wouldn't have beaten up a guard or thrown Janet Fraiser halfway across a room. And our Daniel would never, not in a million years, have held a loaded gun on me.
I'm not here for that Daniel. I'm here for the Daniel who's going to have to fight his way through one version of hell to find himself again, and the Daniel who's going to be riding a tidal wave of guilt if he remembers what he's done.
I see his right hand trembling on top of the covers and cover it with mine to still it.
"Why's he so cold?" I blurt, immediately registering the iciness of his skin.
"His temperature hasn't stabilized yet." Fraiser lays a hand against the side of Daniel's face, both checking his temperature and momentarily stopping the restive thrashing of his head. Sighing, she moves her hand to brush back the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead, and says softly, "As I said, I'll try to keep him as comfortable as possible, but his body has to do the repairs on its own. There's no short cut to that." She checks a reading on one of the many monitors hooked up to him, then continues, "I'm going to have him restrained in case --"
"No." Absolutely not. No. Fucking. Way.
"Colonel --"
"I said no, Doctor," I repeat flatly, and we hold a staring contest. We both know I have no say in this; Fraiser's the doctor and if she says a patient needs to be restrained, I have no authority to countermand that order. But there is no way I'm letting anyone put restraints on Daniel again. This time I will be with Daniel. If he needs restraining, I'll restrain him.
Fraiser's mouth firms for a moment, then she slowly nods. "If you're sure..."
Actually, I'm not sure of anything at this point except that I'm going to be here with Daniel while he goes through whatever is in store for him. Forget what happened on that planet and in that mine. And the storeroom... Not even gonna go there. We'll deal with that later. Right now the only thing that matters is getting Daniel well again, getting our Daniel back. I need to be here because he needs to see me when he wakes up; he needs to know I haven't abandoned him, that I haven't decided he's not worth the effort. He needs to know that I am still his friend and will stand by him and with him no matter what.
"I'm sure."
***
Twelve hours of tending to someone through cold sweats, fever, delirium, chills and dry heaves is exhausting business. So it isn't surprising I'm asleep when the call finally comes.
"Jack?"
I've been waiting for this, even in my sleep, so I snap awake immediately, even though his voice is painfully hoarse and barely audible. He was out of it so much through those twelve hours that, although I think he knew there was someone with him, someone's hands holding him when he tried to puke up his empty guts, someone who kept him covered when he was chilled, and wiped him down when the sweat poured off him, he didn't know who. And at the time I'm sure he was too sick to care. But he's awake now, and aware, his red-rimmed eyes are open, and for the first time in days I see Daniel there.
He looks so scared and so uncertain I feel my heart twist in my chest. Realizing the need to go slow, but also to immediately reassure him, I lean forward and lay a hand on his arm. "Welcome back, Daniel."
He's staring at me with something like disbelief, then his eyes slide to my hand on his arm and a choked sob catches in his throat. "You're really here."
I wonder how long he's been awake, staring at me, unsure if I'm real or a hallucination? A part of me congratulates myself on knowing Daniel so well I called it perfectly; but another part of me is so damn sorry I was right. I rub his arm lightly. "Of course I’m here," I say evenly. "Where else would I be?"
He won't meet my eyes and I can barely hear him when he mumbles, "I didn't think you'd..."
I can fill in the blanks with my eyes closed: I didn't think you'd want to be my friend any longer. I didn't think you'd care enough to stay. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me any more.
There's a lot more healing to be done before our Daniel is really back. Deciding there's no time like the present to start, I reach over and touch his face, bringing it up so his eyes meet mine. He's still so scared, so terribly unsure of his welcome, of his place... with me, I realize. "I'm here, Daniel," I tell him carefully, making sure he understands every word, "because you're my friend. What happened on P3R636 didn't change that. We lost you for a while, but we got you back. That's what matters."
Not unexpectedly, considering what he's just been through and his current weakened state, tears well in his eyes and he looks away quickly. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry. So sorry."
"I know you are, Danny," I say softly, deliberately employing the nickname only I ever use.
He flinches, as if he thinks he doesn't even deserve that. "Sam... Teal'c..." He can barely choke their names out.
"Sam and Teal'c only left when Janet threw them out, or they'd be with me here right now."
"How can you..." He turns his head back slowly and forces himself to meet my eyes. I've seen Daniel just about every way you can see another man, but I have never seen such a combination of confusion, guilt, anguish and despair as I see in his eyes now. "How can you stand to look at me? How can you forgive me? The things I said... what I did... the mine..." His eyes widen suddenly in horror. "Oh god... I had a gun -- I --"
"Daniel, enough," I say sternly. I can feel the tremors in his arm under my hand and I'm starting to wish I'd summoned Janet the minute I knew he was awake. A good strong sedative wouldn't go amiss right now. But I know that won't solve anything. We've got a whole lot to hash out between us, but he's in no condition to go into that now. What is important is that he has to understand he hasn't lost us. In a way, I think Daniel has taught me everything I know about being a friend. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that if our situations were reversed, he'd be sitting here right now giving me all the forgiveness and support he could muster. And I've seen just how much of that this compassionate man can give.
In a gentler tone, I say, "Let's forget it for now, okay? We'll talk about it later, I promise. Right now, you just need to know that I'm here, and Sam and Teal'c are going to be here just as soon as Janet clears it, and we are all going to be here to see you through this." And very clearly, so he can't misunderstand me, I tell him, "We are still your friends, Daniel." I can see I haven't yet managed to punch through that wall of guilt he's erected around himself and I lean over until I'm practically in his face. "Daniel, have I ever lied to you?" I demand, injecting a touch of impatience in my tone, hopefully just enough to infuse this very un-normal situation with some normalcy.
His eyes go wide, then fill with the trust I see every time he looks my way. It shook me, right down to my boots, the first time I saw that look in his eyes. It still shakes me a little, but I hope I never do anything to lose it. "No," he whispers.
He's right. I've never lied to him, no matter how hard the truth is, how much I know it's going to hurt, or how much I'd like to. For some reason -- maybe it's that trust I see in his eyes -- I just can't lie to him.
"And I'm not lying to you now." I pause for just a beat and then hit him with my best shot. "You trust me, don't you?"
The 'of course' is out of his mouth before he even thinks about it. It takes a moment, but even with a brain recently scrambled, Daniel's not slow. I can see the moment he makes the connection: He hasn't lost us; we're here and we're not leaving. It must be true because, after all, I never lie to him.
A long, shuddering sigh leaves his body as he struggles to maintain a precarious control over his embattled system. Tears spring to his bloodshot eyes again and he whispers, "I'm sorry, Jack. I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. I'm --"
Sighing, I lay a hand on his forehead and shush him. If I know Daniel, there will be a lot more of this, and we'll have to let him get it out of his system eventually, but now is not the time. "I know, Danny," I soothe, "I know. But right now you just need to rest and concentrate on getting stronger, okay?"
His eyes search my face and I see a hint of panic there. "You won't... leave?"
I shake my head. "I'm not going anywhere."
There's that trust again, replacing the panic in his eyes. He stares at me a while longer, fighting sleep. I don't blame him; I can only imagine what nightmares are waiting for him when he does succumb. But he's too exhausted to fight it, and soon his eyelids droop and I see his breathing slow and even out. I give it a few minutes, then carefully remove my hand from his forehead and sit back.
He's back. There's still a lot of healing to do, but he's back. That's the first battle. We'll fight the others one day at a time, as a team. Just like always.
***
Part 3 - Epilog
Journal entry, Earth
I've never had friends like this before, people who cared about me so much. Along with Sha're, they are the most important people in my life, and I would die to keep them safe.
Every time I've tried to write in my journal since our mission to P3R636, I see those words and I am so ashamed.
The people I would die to keep safe are the very people I allowed to remain in slave labor in a naquada mine while I enjoyed every luxury on the planet surface. The man I call my best friend was the one I held off with a loaded gun and could have killed with a twitch of my finger. As out of it as I was at the time, it's a miracle that isn't exactly what happened.
No. The miracle is that these people are still my friends, are still my team mates. The miracle is, I have not lost either their friendship or their trust.
When I finally got past the withdrawal, the insane craving that was tearing my whole body and mind apart, all I could think of was that I had lost all that and more, and nothing I could do would ever get it back. I didn't deserve to get it back.
But my friends thought otherwise. Jack had stayed with me the whole time I was going through that hellish withdrawal. I have vague memories of someone being there, holding me, supporting me, cleaning me. But at the time I hadn't known it was Jack. When I finally came back to myself and saw him sitting there in that chair, sleeping, I was afraid I was hallucinating. It couldn't be real, I thought. No way would Jack want to be anywhere near me after what I'd done to him and the rest of the team. But he was real. And he made it clear that I had not lost the friendship of the three people who have become so important to me.
As soon as Janet cleared it, Sam and Teal'c were there as well. To my shame, I remembered the things I'd said to Sam in the lab when we had first returned to the SGC. I still cringe when I think about it. She let me apologize, then put her arms around me and gave me the biggest hug she could manage, whispering how much she'd missed me and how glad she was I was back.
Teal'c accepted my apology with the kind of dignity that I have discovered defines his character. He told me I was one of the most honorable men he had ever known and that he didn't blame me for my actions during my sickness. I was his friend and he would do everything in his power to help me in my recovery.
As for Jack, he's stuck by me through this whole mess. All I wanted to do after I got back on my feet was hide from everyone, wallow in the guilt that is still eating at me, question my worth as a human being, and wonder about my fitness to be a member of SG-1.
But Jack was having none of that. The first thing I knew I had a backpack on my back and Jack, Sam, Teal'c and I were heading for the mountains for a weekend of hiking and camping.
How did he know? How did he know that was exactly what I needed, when even I didn't know? Physical exertion, the kind of peace you can only find in the solitude of the mountains, my friends surrounding and supporting me.
I've been studying language for most of my life. But there are times when even I have to admit that actions speak louder than words. The actions of my friends during those two days spoke volumes.
Sam and I have always had a special rapport. From the moment we first met we've been able to finish each other sentences and pick up conversations we might have begun a week before without missing a beat. I was afraid I might have messed that up for good. But on our hike up, she dropped into place beside me and began talking, and I recognized immediately a conversation we'd never had a chance to finish from before our mission to P3R636. And I knew she'd chosen that topic deliberately, her way of showing me we were still okay, we hadn't lost that special empathy that we both cherish.
Teal'c was his usual solid, reliable presence. He can convey a lot without saying a word. Just like on our missions, he was always nearby, ready to reach out and steady me whenever I was inevitably looking up instead of down and tripped over a root or some loose rocks. He never loses patience with me, no matter how many times I stumble; he just makes sure that I'm okay and positions himself so he's nearby for the next time I do it.
And Jack... Jack was, as always, my safe haven. That first night I was so tired I actually fell asleep (something I'd been avoiding like crazy up to that point) and it was his hand I felt on my shoulder when I woke up with a scream frozen in my throat, his voice whispering in the dark that it was okay, I was safe, we were all safe. I don't think he got much sleep that night; every time the dreams came he was right there with me, that strong, supportive presence I've come to rely on.
By the end of the first day I could actually look them each in the eye. By the time we were heading back, I was laughing at Jack's bad jokes. By the time we were back at the SGC, I could acknowledge that I had made a terrible error in judgment where Shyla and her motives were concerned, and we had all paid the price. That's one thing each of them had impressed upon me: We were all victims in this nightmare. I think I can finally accept that, yes, I was a victim too. But there's still a part of me that believes I deserved everything I got for betraying my friends like I did.
I'm not sure I'll ever completely believe otherwise.
Our last night out on the mountain, Jack and I sat by the camp fire and talked until dawn. Finally, as the sun was beginning to rise, he said, "You make a mistake, you learn from it, and then you move on, Daniel. We need you to do that." He paused then, and gave me the kind of look I always thought could see straight into my soul. "I need you to do that."
Trust is a very strong, yet a very fragile bond between people. I know how close I came to irreparably snapping that thread. If I were not so fortunate in my friends, Jack and I wouldn't even have been having that conversation. But like always when I found myself in over my head, he was there, holding my head above water, making sure I didn't go under for the third time.
The rest is up to me. I can do it. I won't let Jack, or the team, down again.
D. Jackson
© January 20, 2000 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.