• SPOILERS : The First Ones, Past and Present. Small ones for : the film, Solitudes, Crystal Skull, Shades of Gray, Legacy, Need, Maternal Instinct, Secrets.
• Takes place after 'The First Ones'. Daniel is struck down by a mystery illness.
• PG [A] [S] [Hc]

Sam stopped walking and turned to look closely at Daniel, "Are you sure you're alright ?" she asked. It was the same question she had asked only a few minutes before.

"Yeah, just tired, I guess. That translation… you know… the stuff SG-7… brought back…" Daniel leant against the wall for support, fighting for breath between words.

They were on their way to the commissary, where they were supposed to be meeting the rest of SG-1 for a team lunch. Knowing O'Neill was buried in paperwork, Carter had informed her CO that the archaeologist had barely left his office in the last three days, so Jack had suggested the get together as a way to make him take a break. It had been her turn to perform the 'drag Jackson out of his office if necessary' routine. The Major had arrived in plenty of time to allow for the usual wait while he finished at least two or three things. He was still typing, when her patience finally ran out and she threatened to unplug his computer and call Jack if he didn't get out of his chair immediately.

As the two scientists resumed their walk, Sam was growing increasingly concerned. Daniel was ambling along on automatic, eyes almost closed and she had to slow down to let him catch up. She was contemplating telling the linguist to stop by the infirmary and get checked out; knowing just how well that suggestion would go down, when he suddenly gasped, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he doubled over. Before she could get to the stricken man his legs had folded and he collapsed to the floor.

"Daniel !" Carter immediately lunged for the phone a few feet away. "Medical Emergency, corridor C2." Replacing the receiver she rushed back to the linguist, dropping to her knees by his side. Noting the flushed tinge coloring a complexion she'd thought too pale only moments ago, the Major placed a gentle hand against his forehead... too hot. Her heart pounded with fear at the sound of the sinister wheeze accompanying the uneven shallow breaths as the scientist struggled to draw air into his lungs.

"It'll be okay, Daniel," Sam lightly stroked his brow, trying to soothe away the pain etched furrows, "Janet's on her way."

***

An hour later, Sam, Jack and Teal'c were sitting outside the infirmary, anxiously waiting for news. Janet emerged from the double swing doors, a solemn expression on her face.

'Oh God !' SG-1 thought collectively.

"He's comfortable for now," Janet began, "I've a lot of test results to get through, but at this point I'm guessing it's either some sort of virus, or maybe… poisoning. His respiratory system is suffering badly. He's protesting that he's okay, but if his breathing gets any worse we'll have to put him on a ventilator. His oxygen level is already down to the minimum." The petite doctor gave them a small smile, shaking her head in exasperation. "Of course all he wants to do is get back to work."

"We'll see about that !" Jack started toward the doors, but Janet put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Colonel, please, I have only just managed to stabilize him, I don't want him getting into any arguments right now." She hesitated before she said softly, "Besides, you may not want to do anything you'll end up regretting."

"What's that supposed to mean ?" O'Neill shot her an incredulous look.

"His condition is deteriorating and I don't have any answers yet," she looked directly into Jack's eyes, then at Sam and Teal'c. The intensity of her glare and its unspoken meaning initiated an exchange of worried glances. Jack felt like his heart had dropped into his boots.

***

"You know you really don’t have to go to these lengths to avoid having lunch with me," Jack sauntered up to Daniel’s bedside, his best 'not a care in the world' face plastered on.

"Sorry I… stood you… up," Daniel tried to be jovial, but his breathing belied him. "Could you have a word with Janet," he carried on, rushing the words to get them out between labored breaths. "She's insisting I stay here… but I've got…" his voice started to fade and with a pained frown beginning to mar his boyish features; "so much… work to do," came out in no more than a husky whisper.

He slumped back onto the pillows, his fevered eyes turned pleadingly toward the Colonel, sparkling against his pale face.

"It'll still be there in the morning, Daniel," Jack kept his demeanor calm but he could not prevent his mind from completing the sentence with 'even if you're not'.

"Yes it will," Janet reiterated as she came in and began a sweep of the various monitors attached to the archaeologist, scribbling notes and numbers as she went.

A shiver raced through Daniel and he sighed, obviously frustrated with his situation. "It's only the flu," he grated, swallowing hard to diminish the dry tickle in his throat. It didn't work and a fit of coughing stole his breath and set several of the monitors' alarms off.

Janet grabbed for an oxygen mask. She handed it to O'Neill, "Keep that on him," and busied herself with assessing the readouts.

Jack had to hold Daniel up in a sitting position in order to get the mask over his mouth and nose. The heat radiating from the body in his arms disturbed the older man. As the coughing eased, Daniel relaxed against the Colonel, his eyes closed, his energy spent.

After some adjustments to the monitors, Janet took Daniel's pulse the old fashioned way. Telling herself it was to check on the equipment and not simply because she just felt the need to give her own caring touch to him.

"Flu my ass," Jack snorted as he gently lowered his friend's now limp form back down. He looked questioningly at the doctor, "What now ?"

"Now I need to get on and do those tests. If that" she tapped the screen showing the dangerously low oxygen level of Daniel's blood, "doesn't improve in the next half hour, I'm putting him on a ventilator." She stomped back to her office, heels clicking noisily on the floor, her head down in concentration and concern.

O'Neill took a long look at the now peaceful linguist, not at all reassured by the slight rise and fall of his chest and then went to find the rest of his team to give them an update.

***

The briefing room was quiet. General Hammond leaned back in his chair and observed his flagship team, minus one - the one who usually made this room such a lively and un-quiet place. O'Neill had remarked before that Daniel Jackson was the voice of their team and it certainly seemed that without his presence, they really did struggle to communicate. It was also ironic, Hammond thought, that that particular sentiment had been expressed at a memorial service for their supposed deceased comrade, something which may well have to be faced again all too soon, if the scientist's condition did not begin to improve.

Dr Fraiser walked briskly into the room and acknowledged the General. Sitting in the nearest available chair, she placed a pager on the desk and arranged her armful of papers before looking up to address the expectant faces around her.

"Well I have found something," she began, "Although at this stage it is still unclear as to what it means," she did not want to get their hopes too high. "There is evidence of a foreign substance in Daniel's blood. While his symptoms are similar to that of a severe form of influenza with some other complications, the organism does not behave as I would expect a virus to; so it looks more likely that it is some sort of poison. Whether this is accidental or deliberate it is impossible to say."

She could see that the General was preparing to ask a question and guessed what it was, so she pre-empted him, "I have also re-tested all blood samples from SG-1's last post mission examination and the organism is not present in any sample except for Daniel's. I can't guarantee that the rest of them are not affected but at the moment it looks as though Dr Jackson is the only one of you who is… and no, I don't know why yet." She stared down Colonel O'Neill, knowing what he would have asked.

"There is more to this problem though," her delivery slowed as she was still analysing this puzzle in her head, "A very similar substance showed up in the autopsies of both Dr Rothman and Major Hawkins."

"Are you saying Dr Jackson is infected with a Goa'uld ?" Hammond could contain his curiosity no longer.

"No Sir, only that it is possible that they all came into contact with this thing on P3X888."

"But we were all there too, so how come we aren't ill ?" O'Neill asked what Sam and Teal'c were both thinking as well.

"That is the sixty four thousand dollar question, Colonel and one that we had better come up with an answer to soon, very soon." Dr Fraiser answered glumly.

The silence that followed the doctor's statement was overwhelming. Hammond viewed his best team uncomfortably avoiding each other's eyes. Teal'c, erect in his chair as usual, simply gazed toward the window overlooking the Stargate. Carter looked at the fingers she twiddled distractedly in her lap, the glint of an unshed tear sparkling from under her long lashes. O'Neill, stared intently at a small scratch on the table for several moments while rubbing at his temples, it was he who broke the reverie when he quietly asked, "So, how's he doin' ?"

All eyes turned toward the doctor. Feeling the gazes burning through her, Dr Fraiser composed herself to reply, "Not so good." 'This is what I hate most about being a doctor,' she thought to herself. 'Everyone looks to you for the answers, to say that it's going to be alright, that we know what we're doing; but we haven't always got the answers. We can't always say that it's going to be okay and we don't always know what to do…'

She realized they were expecting her to say more, "He's awake and I'm sure he'd appreciate some company. I took him off the ventilator when his oxygen level improved, but he is still having some difficulty breathing, so he's got a mask, but he doesn't use it unless he's really struggling. I've got him on high doses of pain meds but it doesn't seem to be helping much with either the headache or the severe stomach cramps he's suffering. It's also been difficult to keep his temperature stable. We're doing everything we can to make him comfortable in the circumstances."

Looking around the table at the collection of stunned faces Janet continued, "I don't want him to get too tired, so I suggest you don't all go at the same time." She turned to the General, "If you'll excuse me Sir, I have more work to do on this."

"Thank you Dr Fraiser, if you need any help just let me know, I'll get anyone or anything you need." Hammond nodded his approval for her to leave. Seeing the self-doubt in her eyes, he realised the tiny doctor feared being unable to save the young man they all considered a friend, he added reassuringly, "I am sure that you will do everything you can to solve this mystery. Keep me informed."

The General was also saddened at the doctor's news. He saw the anguish of the team seated around him, as Daniel Jackson had touched the lives of so many with his quiet, amiable nature he had found a place in Hammond's usually well defended heart too.

"Well people, I don't think I need to remind you that we need answers fast. Maybe by talking with Dr Jackson you could jog his memory about the events on P3X888, it might help crack this nut."

"He doesn't need anything to make him remember that place, Sir," Jack countered. He had been witness to some of the nightmares Daniel had suffered as a result of his capture by the Unas.

***

O'Neill stood in the doorway to the infirmary, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets, studying the lonely looking figure. Daniel was propped up against the crisp white pillows, his complexion almost a perfect match, save for the dark shadows around his eyes. Jack grinned, somewhat sadly, to himself as he watched the archaeologist try to juggle turning the pages of a book, while having to take occasional breaths from the oxygen mask. The monitors beeping and winking merrily away like some weird disco.

Damnit he wasn't going to let this happen ! He wasn't going to lose another person he cared about ! Not if he had anything at all to do with it.

Daniel looked up as Jack approached his bed. "Hi," he said weakly.

"How ya doin' ?"

"Peachy," a small smile played across lips that had been tight with pain just moments before.

Jack couldn't help but chuckle as one of his favorite phrases was used with such brave sarcasm. Inside he felt no more like laughing than he did putting a 'Welcome' mat at the bottom of the ramp to the 'gate for Apophis, but he hoped he could keep up the pretence of being blasé about the current situation.

Pulling up a chair, the Colonel settled himself in for the afternoon. "Sam and Teal'c will be along later, you'll have to put up with me until then." Noticing the faraway look in Daniel's eyes he put a hand on the linguist's arm. "Hey, we'll beat this thing," he said encouragingly.

"Hope it's soon," Daniel suddenly leant forward, clutching his stomach tightly, "Must remember… to ask Janet… if anyone can have… two appendices," his humor a valiant attempt to control the pain. As the wave ebbed, he took several deep breaths from the mask, closing his eyes, trying to relax.

The realisation of just how ill his friend really was hit Jack like a slap across the face. All Dr Fraiser's words were here in front of him, in the form of one very sick, young man and it scared him. "Should I get Janet ?"

"No… 's okay. N-Nothing seems to help much," Jackson chewed on his bottom lip as he felt the muscles in his chest constricting again.

O'Neill nodded disconsolately, patiently waiting for the linguist to gather himself.

"What are you doing with that ?" pointing at the book, he tried to sound like the belligerent Colonel he used to be. What he would still have been if it were not for one stubborn, sneezing, four-eyed geek.

No actually, correct that, he wouldn't still be anything at all, because he would have been dead. Either by Ra's flunkies or by his own hand with the bomb that he should have blown Abydos up with.

"Still got this… translation to finish. Janet… said I could, as long as… I didn't get t-too… tired. I'm not getting… very far… with it though; what with this" he held up the mask, "this" he flicked the IV line in his hand which threatened to get tangled each time he tried to write notes, "this" he tapped his head and winced at the touch, squinting a little at the obvious flare that shot through his head, "and" he paused, bracing himself for the full force of the deep throbbing ache he could feel building inside, "th..i..s" he ground out as he doubled over again.

O'Neill could not stand seeing Daniel in such pain, he moved to sit on the bed. Put his arms around the shaking body and held him firmly until the agonizing wave subsided.

"Thanks," Daniel sighed as Jack's grip on him eased.

"Hey, what are friends for ?" The two men regarded each other as Jack's question penetrated both their thoughts. That is what they were. Despite the arguments and differences in their characters, they had forged a bond strong enough to withstand the many trials put upon it.

It surprised them as much as it did many of those around them. Everyone at the SGC knew how close the two men had become in the years they'd worked together, each of them bringing out the best in the other.

Daniel ducked his head, composed himself with a little cough "So, ah, Janet told me… about Robert and Major Hawkins. I've been… trying to think, but I don't know… how we… would have been in contact with something… that nobody else was. I mean, Robert and I worked… p-pretty closely for those three weeks, but I… didn't really have… anything to do… with the Major… and as far as I can remember, n-neither did Robert." He stopped to take a long haul on the oxygen mask, recalling the last time he saw his friend, before they brought back the body.

Jack could see that Daniel was exhausted. The breathlessness and the progressively more prominent stammer were testament to that, but he knew the scientist wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the problem at hand. So many times Daniel had come through for them. It always amazed Jack how that brain worked. It would keep tapping away at the roots, twisting and up-ending theories until finally the solution would be uncovered. 'Guess that's what an archaeologist does - keeps digging, brushing, scraping, to get to the prize.'

Who else, even in the throes of delusional paranoia and drugged up to the eyeballs, could have found the cause of his own schizophrenia, but Daniel ?

"Could you… p-pass me some water… p-please," Jack could see how much effort Daniel put into raising the trembling hand to accept the glass, he was nearly asleep, but fighting as usual. Then he saw something else, a narrowing of those bright eyes, not from weariness, but from thought - concentration, deep concentration.

"Daniel ?" he tried to meet the gaze.

"Water," Daniel was focussing on the glass, rocking it gently to make little waves slosh from side to side. "Water," he said again, so quietly, O'Neill hardly heard it.

"What about the water Daniel ?" Jack wasn't sure that the linguist was even aware of his presence at that moment. He put his own hand around the glass as it started to slip

"I drank… I drank… some of the water from that lake… the one with… the Goa'ulds in it."

Jack looked blank. He couldn't see quite where Daniel was going with this. 'Okaaay, so drinking straight from a dirty lake; particularly a dirty, off-world lake wasn't exactly the brightest thing to do but…'

"The Goa'ulds that infected Robert and… and…" he was fighting a losing battle against the need to rest, "Same water, maybe…" his eyes fluttered shut. As his breathing evened out, Jack looked at the glass he was now holding alone, the slim hand having dropped back to the bed; and hoped, hoped so hard it hurt, that once again Daniel had found the answer he so desperately needed.

***

Dr Fraiser's office was not the best place to meet, it was cramped at the best of times, but it was fairly heaving with bodies at present. O'Neill had strategically positioned himself near the open doorway, so that he could participate in the discussion, while keeping a watchful eye on his friend.

Listening to the plans being made to go back to P3X888 and what samples needed to be collected, he glanced back over his shoulder at the youngest member of his team, still asleep, the oxygen mask now secured over his face. He turned back to the conversation, but his mind was replaying earlier events.

"Okay, so we need to get some water samples to check Daniel's theory," Sam agreed with the doctor, "but how is it going to help us find a cure or antidote or whatever ?" they might find the cause, but that was not going to keep Daniel with them. What else did they need ?

"What about the Unas ? Do they drink from that water, if so maybe they have some kind of antibodies in their systems that have evolved to prevent them getting sick." Janet was thinking on her feet. She was tired, but she wanted to find a remedy just as much as the others and not simply because that was her job, Daniel was her friend too.

"Great," Jack was drawn into the discussion, "How do you propose we get samples from them ?" he almost laughed the idea was so ludicrous.

"Guess I'll have… to g-go with you."

The soft voice behind O'Neill made him jump, "Jesus Daniel ! I thought you were asleep." He was glad that the archaeologist's appearance had prevented him from saying his next comment about how to get blood from an Unas, as he didn't think his friend would have appreciated that thought, whether it was in his best interests or not.

"My ears were burning," Daniel gave a quick grin, sagging against the doorframe, the knuckles of the hand gripping the IV pole white with tension.

"Hey, Daniel," Sam looked up beaming warmly.

"What do you think you're doing out of bed ?" Dr Fraiser quashed her smile at seeing Daniel on his feet and gave him a stern matronly stare.

"This is m-my life on the line here." No arguments from anyone there, so he continued, "I communicated with Chaka before, I m-might… be able to get him to understand… what we… I… need. Let's face it… there probably isn't anyone else… who could even… get close enough to him to ask." They all knew that was true. No one else would have even thought about trying to talk to the creature and no one else would have hesitated in killing it when they had a chance to do so - that was Daniel for you and they wouldn't have him any other way.

"Daniel, you're in no condition to go anywhere. Listen to yourself, you can't even string half a dozen words together without getting out of breath, let alone make a cross country hike." Jack wanted to make sure Daniel knew what he was asking to let him do.

"Jack, please…" Daniel put a hand to his stomach and fought the cramps which almost claimed his upright position, "I can't just… lie there and do n-nothing… when I could help."

O'Neill considered the request, "If Daniel came with us, would you be prepared to come too, Dr Fraiser ?" he had the authority to order the doctor to go on the mission, but he would rather it was her decision.

"Yes Colonel," the reply was as expected, "But, I…"

"Thank you, Janet," Daniel cut her off, not wanting to hear her reservations.

"You should get some rest Daniel. It'll take us a while to get the gear together," Jack took Daniel's arm and guided him back to bed. Leaving Janet to settle her patient, the Colonel went to sort out the details for their return to P3X888.

Sam had a question for Janet when she returned to her office. "If," 'No be positive' she thought, "When we get the samples we need, how are we going to set about creating a serum ? It could take days, weeks couldn't it ? Does Daniel have that long ?"

Janet faced her colleague grimly, "I don't know," she truthfully answered all Sam's questions in one answer. "Do you think there's anyone who could help us like the Tollen, the Nox, the Tok'Ra, anyone ?"

"Well, the Tok'Ra solution to medical complications is generally the introduction of a symbiote and I know Daniel wouldn't want that. As for the others I suppose it is possible they may be able to help, but knowing their reluctance to part with their technology…" Sam trailed off, "There is someone who would be of help, but I don't like the implications of getting her involved…"

"Kyra," Janet had already had the same thought. Kyra's chemical expertise and intuition would be invaluable in the task ahead of them.

Sam nodded, "Do you think the General or the Colonel for that matter would accept her help ? And what would we tell Daniel if we did ?" Sam knew all too well that if the circumstances around Kyra - aka 'The Destroyer of Worlds' in her former existence as Linnea - had been different, she and Daniel might well have become more than just good friends. The thought of Daniel romantically involved with that woman sickened her, despite the knowledge that as Kyra she was a very caring, compassionate person. It seemed that fate had decided long ago that Daniel would never really be allowed to experience love, not for very long at any rate. The losses of his parents, his wife (repeatedly), her baby, his grandfather and the abuses from Hathor, Shyla and Kyra stole from his spirit, but incredibly he had never allowed those emotional injuries to permanently embitter his soul.

The same anxieties were speeding through Janet's brain.

Purposeful expressions gracing their faces, the two women steeled themselves to put the proposition to the General, knowing only too well that it could be the only chance the young archaeologist would have.

***

Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter and Teal'c were already in the 'gate room, geared up and prepared to go. As the wormhole opened Dr Fraiser led a determined Daniel Jackson through the blast doors.

"Ready ?" Jack moved to Daniel's side.

The younger man nodded, watched Sam and Teal'c step through the Stargate and then started up the ramp, flanked by his CO and the diminutive physician.

General Hammond's voice rang out from the loudspeakers, "Good Luck SG-1," he stared after the slowly moving trio. His admiration for the civilian, who had faced death on a number of previous occasions, Hell, had even been dead on a number of previous occasions, grew with each obviously pain-filled step he took up that ramp. 'That's our boy,' he thought proudly. The General flinched when he saw Daniel's left knee give out, O'Neill quickly putting an arm around the linguist's waist to support him. After a brief exchange between Fraiser and Jackson, the three walked through the event horizon. It shimmered and then disengaged.

Hammond then ordered the dial up sequence for Vias to be initiated. It concerned him to request help from someone who could very well kill them all; but he had promised Dr Fraiser that he would get whoever she wanted to work on this thing. He always tried to keep his promises, especially if it was a way to save the life of a valued friend.

The plea from the doctor and Major Carter, both of whom he respected and trusted, made him put his worries aside. They were convinced that Kyra would be the only person who could produce a serum in time to save Daniel Jackson and that was a good enough reason for him.

***

On P3X888 it was raining and cold. Progress was slow. The team had to stop frequently to let Daniel catch his breath and the weather conditions were making them more miserable.

The cool drops felt good on Daniel's febrile skin. Although the waterproof cape was keeping the rain off his clothes, they felt damp and uncomfortable from perspiration. Shivers caused his muscles to tighten. Stomach cramps and violent fits of coughing brought him to his knees, but with Jack's help, he plodded on, grim determination carved on his face.

They were no more than halfway to the caves where Chaka had taken Daniel, when O'Neill ordered the team to take a long break. Sheltered by a dense covering of trees that deflected the worst of the rain and the thick mat of pine needles provided a fairly dry place to sit. They lit a fire and heated some food.

Janet knelt beside Daniel, who now that he had stopped, found that his energy deserted him. He lay curled up on his right side, arms protectively across his stomach. "Here, you need to drink," she lifted his head and put the canteen to his lips. He didn't even have the strength to thank her, but she caught the grateful look in his eyes and that was enough.

She unrolled a sleeping bag and helped the scientist shuffle onto it, "This'll be more comfortable," she explained, wincing when she saw his look of disbelief - could anything feel 'comfortable' in his condition ? Taking a thermal blanket out of her pack, the doctor wrapped it around the body shuddering from both cold and pain; then left him to rest.

Teal'c was scouting around the area, but gave an occasional glance across at the ailing scholar. Regarding the doctor's ministrations with troubled eyes.

Sam and Jack turned toward Fraiser as she approached the fire.

"He shouldn't be here," she said flatly.

"None of us should be here," O'Neill replied. Did she think he wanted to be back on this snake infested planet ? Did she think his idea of fun was to take a dying friend for a five mile route march through the pouring rain ?

"Jack ?" Daniel's voice was barely audible above the crackling of the fire. O'Neill was by his side in an instant.

"I'm here," Jack laid a hand on the archaeologist's shoulder to affirm his words.

"I didn't want to be alone," ragged breathing accompanied the simple statement.

"I don't understand,"

"I know you d-didn't… want me to come… but if you and S-Sam and Teal'c had… come here without me, I… might have been b-back there… alone and died… alone. I didn't… want to d-die alone,"

His heart breaking, his own breath catching in his throat, Jack nodded. Now he understood, "You're not going to die Daniel, alone or otherwise." The Colonel called on every ounce of his military training to keep the fear from his voice.

"So tired…"

"I know, but we're going to beat this, you're going to beat this. You can't die, you're nine lives Jackson remember ?" Jack pulled his young friend up into a hug, feeling the warmth emanating from the shaking form.

Daniel grinned meekly, "I think I've pretty much used them all up." He tightened his arms around his stomach, "Hurts," he gasped.

"I know, Danny. I know it does," Jack's mind wandered back to nights when Charlie had been ill and he had held him just like this. He looked over at the doctor "Isn't there anything you can do ?"

"He's already dosed up with pain killers, Colonel," she responded helplessly.

"'S okay, Jack," Daniel started to pull himself out of the embrace, "'S not so bad, n…ow," the slight rise in tone at the end of that sentence and the accompanying hiss through clenched teeth betrayed him.

"We'll move out in half an hour," without releasing the hold on his friend, O'Neill got back down to business. "The sooner we get there the better."

Gently, he eased Daniel back down onto the sleeping bag and pulled the blanket over the slim shoulders, his hand rubbing small circles on the linguist's back. "Rest," he said firmly.

"'Kay," the blue eyes were closed before his head even touched the makeshift bed.

***

It was almost dark when they reached the caves. A faint glow from deep within one of the rocky openings seeped through the blackness. Everyone tensed, knowing to some degree what they would face within, but what would their reception be ? Daniel had obviously made some headway in getting to know one of these strange creatures.

But would it be enough of a platform from which to jump into a 'conversation' that could mean the difference between life and death for the youngest member of SG-1 ?

"I think… I should go… alone," the linguist was visibly pulling himself together; ready to face whatever he had to.

"Nooooo way," Jack was not surprised by the request and had prepared himself for the archaeologist's arguments.

"Jack, if we all go in… they might feel… threatened,"

"Okay, so just you and me then,"

Realising that was the best compromise he was going to get, Daniel nodded slowly, "No guns," he was pushing his luck with that one.

O'Neill stared at him briefly with raised brows, 'Are you nuts ?' but he slipped the automatic rifle from his shoulder nevertheless.

***

They didn't have to go far before being met by several Unas.

"Chaka," was all that Daniel could think of to say, but it seemed to work as they were led deeper into the cave complex.

"Da-n-iel," the low growl at least confirmed that the Unas remembered him.

"Chaka," Daniel returned the greeting, adrenaline now pumping, he stepped forward and laid a hand on the creature's forearm. Knowing that it wouldn't understand the words, but hoping it would catch the sentiment he continued quietly, "I need your help."

O'Neill silently watched the exchange between the linguist and his former captor, fascinated. He realized he was witnessing something truly wondrous, but his concern for his friend burdened his soul.

Daniel pointed to the hand where the Unas had been injured and then at himself. As if on cue, he doubled over, the stomach cramp taking his breath away. Jack stopped himself from grabbing his friend as amazingly, Chaka reached out and felt Daniel's forehead and then put his hand to the young man's stomach

"Sick…yes, I'm sick…need your help," it did seem as if the creature understood, because his eyes conveyed concern too.

"Jack," Daniel slowly recovered from the pain, "I have an idea," he hauled in a breath, wheezing horribly. "Give me your knife," he held out his hand.

The Colonel complied, but was shocked when Daniel sliced the blade across the tip of his index finger. "Daniel ?" he drawled.

"In some tribes…"

'Oh God, here we go, a Jackson lecture, just what we need,' thought O'Neill and then stopped himself from taking his usual uninterested stance, 'I really would miss this if… Don't go there O'Neill,' the archaeologist was still talking, albeit disjointedly, so he tried catch what was left of the explanation.

"Mix the blood… to… seal the friendship. It's just possible… it might mean… the same here," after letting a few drops fall from his finger onto a rock, he motioned to Chaka's finger.

"These aren't exactly Native Americans Daniel," Jack quipped. "Or any other type of human for that matter."

The Unas held out its hand.

"Go get Janet," Daniel said softly to Jack, as he carefully cut the creature's digit. The green fluid dripped onto the red and he swirled them together with the knife. Gripping the hand tightly, he spoke calmly, "Friends," and looked straight into the lizard-like eyes. They regarded him as the Unas tried to say the word too. Daniel smiled.

When Jack came back with Janet, the archaeologist asked the doctor to take some blood from him first, to show Chaka what they wanted.

The mission successfully accomplished, Daniel once again took the Unas' strange hand and said "Thank you."

Once out of the cave, his adrenaline subsided and Daniel collapsed in a heap. O'Neill grabbed the scientist, keeping his head from crashing against the wet, rocky ground.

The doctor was by his side immediately. "Can we get back to the 'gate in the dark ?" she asked, not looking up from assessing her patient's condition.

"It would be unwise," Teal'c answered before his CO could voice the same opinion.

Fraiser guessed that would be the reply, but she also knew time was running out.

***

It had been a rough night. No one had slept much, so when light finally began to creep through the forest, they were ready to go.

O'Neill helped Jackson to his feet. Pulling an arm across his shoulders and supporting the younger man around his waist, the Colonel smiled at his friend, "You okay ?"

Drowsily, the archaeologist's head came up to face him, blue eyes shining a little too brightly from the fever, which sent chills racing through his unhealthily warm body. "No, but I will be," he rasped.

***

When the team finally stepped back through the Stargate with Daniel safely cradled against the Jaffa's massive chest; General Hammond was waiting to meet them.

"How's our boy ?" he asked affectionately, unable to completely hide the anxiety that tinged his voice.

"Hanging on," Dr Fraiser motioned for Teal'c to place the now unconscious linguist on the gurney at the bottom of the ramp.

O'Neill was exhausted. Daniel had leaned on him more and more heavily as they travelled, until his strength and stubbornness finally gave out and Teal'c had carried him the rest of the way home.

Hammond spoke again, "Kyra is in the lab, she's been looking at Dr Jackson's blood samples and seems confident that she will be able to help you. Were you able to get what you needed ?"

"Yes, thanks to Daniel we got some of the Unas blood, as well as some water from the lake. I just hope we find what we want to."

"Kyra's here ?" O'Neill looked quizzically at the General, "Kyra as in 'Destroyer of Worlds' Kyra,"

"Janet and I need help with this one Sir, she's the only one we could think of," Sam started to explain.

"And just when were you going to tell me about this ?"

"Well we only thought about it right before we left for P3X888 and we didn't want to say anything in front of Daniel,"

"Yeah, right," O'Neill agreed that it was probably a good thing they hadn't.

"Look, I know you want to get started on this thing immediately," Jack eyed the two dishevelled women, "but take a shower, get some food, have a break. You'll work better for it."

They knew he was right, but as Fraiser walked away she called "I'm just going to make sure Daniel's settled first," and Carter headed for the labs with "I'll fill Kyra in and get her started on the samples."

O'Neill shook his head, looked at the General and then at Teal'c and grumbled "Scientists !"

***

The infirmary lights were kept low in the night. Only two people were currently in need of hospitalisation : Sergeant Lorenzo of SG-5 was suffering a concussion from a nasty fall while on P2R 797, currently sleeping it off; and Dr Daniel Jackson, SG-1's civilian linguist/archaeologist/anthropologist/all round nice guy, who should have been asleep too, but wasn't, couldn't. The small lights above their beds the only real illumination in the sterile room.

Colonel O'Neill had been by his team mate's bedside, since having cleaned up. He had been dozing uncomfortably in the plastic chair, but as he shifted his lanky frame, he became aware that he was being watched. "You should be sleeping," he righted himself to get a better look at the light blue eyes that peered wearily from behind half closed lids.

"So should you," Daniel croaked back.

"I was,"

"Yeah, right," the linguist massaged his temples against the gnawing headache, "Been thinking,"

"Dangerous, I try not to myself," O'Neill's humor had not deserted him yet and the soft chuckle he received in response assured him, that Daniel's hadn't either.

The laugh however turned into a torturous cough and the Colonel pressed the nurse's alarm button, when it became apparent that his friend was not able to bring his breathing back under control.

"Hang on Danny," O'Neill braced him as tightly as he dared, he seemed so fragile, the normally lean figure, now seemed thin, gaunt after days without eating properly.

A nurse bustled up to the bed, "I've paged Dr Fraiser," she said assessing the situation, "I'll be back in a second." True to her word, she appeared shortly and administered a relaxant into Daniel's IV. Slowly Jack felt Daniel calm. The nurse went to talk to the doctor who had come up from the labs.

Janet came over, her eyes rapidly running over the monitors. The small doctor looked completely exhausted but the Colonel knew ordering her to get some rest would be a waste of breath.

"I'm going to put him back on the ventilator," she knew how much he hated the machine, but it was the only way to stabilize his condition now. "This should put him out for a while," she held up another syringe.

"How's it going anyway ?" It had been hours since they returned from P3X888 and O'Neill had managed to keep away from the labs. Although he desperately wanted to know whether the team working on the serum had made any progress, he guessed his badgering them about it wouldn't make the process any quicker.

"Slowly," Janet was busy with Daniel and the breathing equipment that the nurse had brought over. 'Too slowly' she added to herself sadly. Could the frail body she was working on, fight this thing much longer ? The Colonel clearly wanted more of an answer than that, so once she was satisfied that her patient's readouts were looking better, she faced him, "I think we're close, Kyra is brilliant, but it's a delicate procedure. After all we are trying to use a completely alien substance and make it safe to put into a human. We're dealing with the unknown here, again.

"At least it appears our assumptions were correct, there does seem to be something in the Unas blood that fights the organism," that in itself was a big step in the right direction, she just hoped they could complete the rest of their work in time.

"You might as well go and get some proper rest, Colonel, I've given him enough sedative to knock him out for hours."

"I'm staying," the older man resolutely sat and took hold of the archaeologist's limp hand. "I'm not leaving him alone, he doesn't want to be alone."

The doctor nodded, "Well I get Nurse Clark to bring you some coffee then."

"Thanks,"

***

"Daniel ?" Dr Fraiser gently shook his shoulder and was rewarded with a glimpse of those crystal blue orbs. "Are you quite sure you understand what we are about to do ?"

"Yes," was all he could manage to say, 'please just get on with I can't take this any more, hurts so much, tired…' his mind finished.

He felt the cold on his arm of the alcohol-laced swab, felt the prick and pressure of the needle plunging into his vein. Those things he expected, he knew the routine, but what would come next ? Nothing, he felt nothing, not numb - the aches and pains were all still there, but nothing… different.

Daniel looked about him, his 'family' gathered around his bed, all looking as unsure of what was happening as he was.

It was Jack, 'Good old Jack' he thought who asked the question he also wanted the answer to.

"Now what ?"

"Now, we wait," the doctor's reply was simple. "I have no idea how long this will take to work, how it will work, what other symptoms may present themselves. Hell, I have no idea if this will even work at all," she saw Daniel's head dip. "Sorry Daniel," she had already told him this, but it was their only option. If they didn't try something now… The serum had appeared to work in the laboratory, but would it do as well in a body ? Would the serum itself cause any harm ? She just did not know. No one did.

"Perhaps we should come back in a little while, give you chance to rest," the General was clearly unsettled.

Daniel wanted to say 'No, please stay,' but he could feel their discomfort and did not want them to remain if they didn't want to, it wasn't fair.

"I'm sure you… have a lot of work to do… General," he gave the older man an excuse to leave.

Hammond gave him a smile before he retreated.

"You probably all have," his strength was fading.

"I have nothing else to occupy me at this time, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c straightened his stance further, as if that were possible.

"Thanks Teal'c,"

"Paper work can wait," O'Neill actually had no outstanding paper work, he had gotten through it all while he had kept his vigil at the archaeologist's bedside.

"I've had enough for today," Sam sighed tiredly, then regretted what she had said when she saw the guilty look wash across Daniel's pale features.

"Sorry Sam, I really appreciate all you've done for me… and you Janet," he faced the doctor. "Even if…" couldn't finish that one, "I know how hard… you've been working on this."

"That's not what I meant, Daniel," Sam could kick herself, how was she going to stop him feeling that he was to blame for her exhaustion ? 'Hell, me and my big mouth.' "What I meant was we're not going anywhere."

"Thanks guys," he paused, "Actually, if you don't mind I'll just close my eyes for a bit, feeling sleepy." As he relaxed against the pillows, the pained frown that had become an almost permanent expression softened and his arms dropped away from his stomach.

The group exchanged glances; that was the first whole sentence the linguist had managed to get through without heaving for breath in the last few days. Maybe, just maybe things were going to be all right.

***

Epilogue

Kyra had been warmly thanked by SG-1, Janet and General Hammond for all her efforts and had gone back to Vias. She had been allowed to see Daniel. She remembered his face and she knew at the back of her mind somewhere that he had been kind to her before her memories had been stripped away and she was glad that she had been able to help. He was asleep when she visited - Fraiser had made sure of that. They might tell Daniel the full story, one day, but that time was not now.

Dr Fraiser, finished writing on her notes and smiled, "Well Daniel, if you feel up to it, I'll let you go home today."

"Great," he pushed the covers back ready to go.

"Not so fast, mister," she steeled her gaze. "I do mean go home, not to your office and home means rest; if I so much as see you with a book in your hand when you leave the base," she paused for effect, "And I will be watching…" She grinned inwardly, 'Or at least have some of my spies out.'

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," Daniel pulled a sulky expression, which changed almost immediately into a wide smile. "Jack !"

The Colonel sauntered lazily into the infirmary, hands in pockets, "Hey, you look better today,"

"Feeling good too," he made sure that registered with the doctor, he wouldn't bother telling her about the niggling headache that remained. He'd been poked and prodded enough to last a lifetime, several probably; and besides, compared to the one he'd had for days it really was nothing. "Janet's letting me go."

"Let me guess - Home, rest, no work." Jack knew the doctor's orders by heart.

"Yep, trouble is, work to me is relaxing,"

"What is it with scientists ?" Jack sighed in exasperation, remembering his 2IC's similar comments before he was whisked off to save Thor's butt.

"Jack ?"

"Yes Daniel ?"

"Thanks. You know, for everything," Daniel's head dipped habitually, he never was sure how the deep, meaningful stuff would be received. His life, from the death of his parents, until finding a place in the SGC, without much compassion dealt in his direction; had left him shy and unable to take his feelings out of the little box he kept them tightly sealed in. It seemed whenever he opened it up, even the tiniest bit; something came and stole something precious from him.

"Daniel,"

"Yes Jack ?"

"You know for a bright guy, you sure don't know much about friends do you ?"

"Never really had any before," Daniel's head dropped further.

'Shit,' O'Neill berated himself. The impact of the younger man's confession hit him hard. O'Neill had felt depressed after Charlie's death, low enough not to want to live any more, but he had never, ever in his life felt alone. Even when he had been left to rot in that stinking Iraqi prison, the knowledge that his family and friends were back home, waiting for him had given him the strength to endure the ordeal.

Loneliness had made Daniel the way he was, stubborn to a fault, self-reliant because he'd had to be, there had been no one else to care. Not until Sha'uri and now she was gone too; everyone he had ever loved had gone, one way or another. Nick being the latest to shatter that fragile, gentle heart by once again choosing his life's work over his grandson. But and it was a big but, O'Neill had made the greatest transgression just now as he cajoled his friend, he had used that phrase again, the phrase that he had used a time before, when he had broken that heart in two.

The same hurt expression was in front of him now. How could he make this right ?

"Friends help each other," Jack saw the look temper a little, "We know we can count on you," it was working the blue eyes now came up to meet his brown ones, "I haven't forgotten Antarctica, Daniel and I never will."

Understanding finally showed on the archaeologist's face. "Thanks again, Jack,"

"Hey, it was nothing," not really true and he knew Daniel knew that too, but, "That's what friends are for, Daniel." Jack reached over and ruffled a hand through the short hair, 'Still not got used to that,' he mused.

"You know what else friends are for ?"

"What might that be ?"

"They're great for making sure certain bony, archaeology geeks follow their doctor's orders and get plenty of rest and eat lots of burgers and pizza. Hey, I'll even let you order that disgusting one with pineapple on it." The Colonel grinned, dumping Daniel's uniform on the bed, "Come on, I've got several hockey tapes we haven't had time to watch yet…"

"Uh... Janet ?" Daniel whined, hoping she would rescue him from O'Neill's version of relaxation.

"Sounds like a plan to me," the petite doctor laughed, unsympathetically. "You heard the Colonel."

"I know," Daniel smiled back in spite of the thought of enduring hours of hockey, with all the accompanying analyses from an armchair commentator. A healthy twinkle sparkled in his clear blue eyes, "That's what friends are for."

Many thanks to SassySouix who beta-ed this one

January 1, 2001 © 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.