Two years after the events of Fire and Water...
Daniel Jackson yawned cavernously, not even bothering to hide the sleepiness creeping up on him from the shadows of the infirmaries main room.
"Daniel?"
Daniel's head snapped up at the voice of his friend and commanding officer. He rubbed a hand sleepily across his eyes, and covered his open mouth apologetically.
"I don't need a babysitter. Go get some sleep. Be glad you're not held hostage here too." Jack shook his head lightly, regretting another night to be spent in the infirmary.
The curtain being sharply pulled back revealed Doctor Janet Fraiser, shaking her head in mock disgust. "I heard that. Hostage indeed." She playfully pulled the pillow out from behind Daniel's back, where it was serving as a makeshift cushion on the hard backed chair. Pressing it into his arms, she too encouraged him. "Go get some sleep. Or are you looking to spend the night here too?" She smiled warmly, hiding only the tiniest of threats in her gentle teasing.
"It's OK. I'll go." Daniel replied quickly, holding his hand up in mock surrender. "Do you need anything before I go, Jack?" He looked over his friend, and his newly acquired medical appendages; intravenous, bandages, and monitors.
"Nah. I'm peachy thanks." He paused a moment, pensive, then turned serious. "Today's the 22nd right?."
Janet nodded, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
Jack grimaced. "Ah damn. I knew I was forgetting something this morning." He went to smack his own head in frustration, but the I.V. in one hand and bandages covering the other, short circuited the effort.
"Well, you know we were a little busy this morning" Daniel laughed softly. The morning had brought an unwelcome surprise on what was supposed to be a brief reconnaissance trip. A Goa'uld presence on a supposedly uninhabited world. The ensuing firefight and retreat back through the gate had not been without injuries...thankfully though they were only of the kind that would heal quickly.
Jack turned uncharacteristically quiet. "I was supposed to meet one of.Charlie's friends.. to talk about the Air Force." He paused heavily "He called out of the blue and asked what I thought of him joining up...I offered to share an insiders view. I need to call him-let him know I'm sorry." His voice clearly held the rarely seen tenderness he held for his son, and by default, everything connected to him.
Daniel glanced at the wall clock to confirm what his internal clock told him-it was late. "It's 11:30 at night here, Jack."
"He's 18-he'll be up." Jack made a move to sit up and demonstrate his fitness to be up and about.
Janet regarded him with open disbelief. "Don't even think of getting up, Colonel. I'll find a long cord for my office phone and bring it out to you.then you sleep." It wasn't a question.
"I need to get his number.It's in my office".
Janet's eye's grew wider at his suggestion. Daniel rescued her from an incipient attack of apoplexy.
"I'll get it, Jack" Daniel stuffed the pillow he held aside, pushed up onto his crutches and stood, favouring his heavily bandaged ankle, before Janet could stop him. "Where exactly is it?"
Jack lay back against the pillows, reluctantly allowing Daniel to do this errand for him.
Janet visibly relaxed. It wasn't beyond the stubbornness of one colonel O'Neill to try and do this sort of thing for himself, even as battered as he was.
"It's in my address book. It's in the bottom desk drawer." It would be a miracle if anyone could find it, given the state of Jack's office. It had the outward appearance of perfect military order, but if anyone actually ever inspected the contents of the desk and files that appearance would be shattered. If anyone could find the book, it would have to be an archaeologist accustomed to digging through ancient ruins.
"Address Book. Bottom Drawer." Daniel hopped awkwardly towards the door.
"Don't rush, Daniel." Janet's voice trailed after the young man.
Balancing his crutches against his leg, Daniel pulled open the drawer and dug through it. The green hard covered notebook was almost hidden in the back of the drawer, far from prying eyes. Pulling his feet back under him, Daniel straightened up and tried to balance the book between his hand and the crutches. The book slipped, crashed to the floor and fluttered loose papers around him. Cursing aloud in more than one language and hopping on his good foot, Daniel reached down to retrieve the scattered papers.
What was this?
"Daniel Jackson-July 8th, 1965- October 17, 1997." Jack's handwriting on lined paper. Obviously crumpled and unfolded more than once. Daniel sat back heavily into Jack's desk chair, spilling his crutches to the floor with a metallic clatter.
It was an obituary.
It was his obituary.
'Suddenly; in the service of his country; Dr. Daniel Jackson PHD. Predeceased by his parent's Claire and Melvin Jackson, and his beloved wife, Sha're. Daniel's intelligence, compassion and kind spirit will be sadly missed by his many friends and colleagues. Daniel will be especially missed by his god-child Cassandra Fraiser. Memorial service to be held privately. 'Per Aqua Ad Astra'.
The world turned grey. The only glare was from the paper, interspersed with dark lines that threatened to waver off the page if he should so much as blink. The ticking of the wall clock threatened to halt, the gears within the mechanism grinding sharply together as time forced itself onward, in the otherwise silent room. Time itself was trying very hard to remain as still as the breath in Daniel's chest.
This was not a phone number on a slip of paper. It was a death sentence once reprieved. Only the faded edges of the folds beneath his fingers spoke of a warrant folded and refolded, handled endlessly and caressed. Not like the razor edged piece of paper that fell out from behind it, with mechanically written letters that clattered horrid words; official notice, death, deceased. It too was a sentence repealed. The only telling of it's reading was the lingering traces of salty grief in the smudge across the blue inked signature of his doctor and friend.
A reflex deep within his chest forced a whistling breath through his mouth, his teeth tingling with the sharp inhalation. It was only paper, bits of fibrous wood bound into thin sheets. The words held no power. The ink, murky blue ballpoint, styled in inelegant script was meaningless. The death certificate was a lie. He had not died. Daniel sank further downwards and allowed the fabric of the chair seat to envelop him, the pressure of the arms reassuringly pressing inwards. His head came to rest on the hard desktop, seeking solace in it's coolness. The ever-present heartbeat of a dungeon alive with the static of high tension wires pounded through the metal surface and beat in rhythm with his own pulse. Time passed.
The snap of the door cracking open, though in plain view from where he sat, sent a nauseating surge of adrenaline through his blood. He felt his heart miss half a beat and pick up a new staccato rhythm. Raising his head against the sudden gust of gravity that pulled him towards the floor, he watched the doorway. The change in pressure as the door swung inwards was minute, but the room grew exponentially closer, the walls wrapping nearer, defying the laws of physics, that if anything, should have pushed them away. With the surging air came a soft smell of roses identifying the visitor even before she was past the blindingly back lit corridor. Janet.
"Daniel?"
His lips cracked as he moved them apart and his teeth drew tinges of copper into his mouth as he moistened them, preparing a smile to write reassurance on his face.
"Are you all right" Her shoes punctuated the floor. The smell of roses, masking the bitter smell of antiseptics, was stronger now. She was coming closer. The fabric of her skirt rustled as she crouched down. Daniel's eyes had failed to track across the room, remaining locked onto the brightness from which she had come. As the door swung closed in her wake, cutting off the fluorescent hypnosis from the incandescent glow of the desk lamp, he found the smile he had been preparing and focussed two wet, bottomless eyes on the woman beside him.
"Did you fall?" Her gaze went to his bandaged ankle and the crutches now splayed on the floor, scanning for any new signs of injury.
Daniel swallowed the last vestiges of dryness from his mouth. "Ummm.Sort of.I dropped Jack's book" He made an effort to brighten, bent towards the floor, and leaned forward to pick up the remaining papers. He found himself pressing forward into the hand held across his chest, gently restraining him into his chair.
"I'll get it." Janet reached out with her free hand, balanced on her high heels, to pick up the remaining papers. "You'd been gone a while. I was concerned" Picking up the last of the papers, she stood and gently pulled the book, now slick with sweat, from Daniel's fingers, tucking the loose sheets into the cover.
"Jack'll have to sort all these papers out." Daniels face--downcast--looked as though it was already practising his apology to Jack for disorganizing his book.
"If they were sorted to begin with." Janet smiled and held out Daniel's crutches to him. "Let's get you back to the infirmary." She stood beside him, ready to steady him.
He wobbled slightly on his feet, resting his weight on his crutches, allowing her to hold the world steady with a hand in the small of his back.
Daniel was breathing in shallow, rapid gulps by the time he arrived at the infirmaries door. He was working hard to keep it from sounding too ragged under Janet's still watchful eye, but barely succeeding.
The infirmary was dimly lit now, a few pools of light spreading in from the doorways, and a bedside lamp spilled a warm beam away from the closed eyes of his friend.
Janet brushed her hand against Daniel's elbow, steering him back to the chair, now cold from being empty for so long. Her voice was low, but easily heard over the gentle noises of the infirmary; the bubbles in the oxygen humidifier, the fan on the nurses desk, and faint beeping of a monitor, turned to the lowest volume to avoid disturbing the monitored. "Daniel, sit down and I'll get the phone for Jack." She glanced at her other patient, and smiled. Jack was clearly 'napping'. "As soon as I wake him up.".
Daniel sat down hard on the chair and basked for a moment in the relative warmth of the room. The majority of the base was always kept cool, and his shirt, now damp with exertion, stuck clammily to him. Picking up the book from the bedside table where Janet had put it down, he tried to surreptitiously flip through the papers that Janet had put between the covers. It had to be somewhere amongst them, between the frontispiece and the first page. When Jack went to sort his papers, he would be sure to note if those sheets were out of place. They had fluttered out from the middle of the book. Perhaps tucked back into there, Jack wouldn't notice they had been out of place at all. Perhaps.
Jack's voice interrupted his searching, and he quickly closed the cover; hoping Jack's line of sight was obscured by the table. "Sorry Daniel-I guess I blanked out there a bit. Did you find it?"
Daniel stood up shakily, and leaning on the table, carried the book to his friend.
Daniel was suddenly fascinated by the floor. "Jack.I dropped your book." He squirmed as much as a man balanced mostly on one foot could. His voice would have been inaudible anywhere except the quiet infirmary. "I took a bit of a tumble and.it's a mess now. I'm sorry". Daniel carefully placed the book on the covers, reflexively pushing the stray papers deeper inside the pages.
Jack's eyebrows furrowed involuntarily.
Daniel was stumbling over his words.unusual for the usually articulate man.
"You didn't hurt yourself did you?" Jack's sleepy appearance was belied by the keen assessment he gave his friend-but it revealed little.
"No" Daniel feigned fascination with his hands, holding onto to the bed rail tightly, carefully avoiding his friends gaze.
Janet's return to the room provided the perfect reason to look away, and Daniel watched her cross the room, trailing the long telephone line behind herself like an umbilical cord. Her professional eye's flickered over his wavering stance, and she came first to his side.
"Daniel. Sit down before you fall again." She one-handedly pushed a chair behind his knee's and he sank into it reluctantly. Placing the phone on the bed beside her more compliant patient and pausing a moment to adjust the I.V's flow rate, she gave him a chance to flip open the book with his less bandaged hand "Find the number?"
The book was still closed on his lap, as Jack examined his friend more closely, oblivious to Daniel's avoidance of his gaze. Janet's question brought his attention back to the book on his lap, and unable to pinpoint the cause of Daniel's distress, he awkwardly flipped the book open to the back page, and turned it to read the sideways number. His hand reflexively went to dial, but Janet's fingers beat his bandaged ones.
"It's 555-4578" Jack read from the scrawl covered page.
Janet dialled, and holding the phone to his ear, turned away to give him the pretence of privacy.
He tucked his ear to his shoulder and she released the phone to his awkward grip. As someone on the other end answered, he did an admirable job of putting on a bright, strong voice.
"Hello.Christian.It's Jack O'Neill.I'm really sorry I missed you today.Yeah-it was work-Hazard of the Air Force.Can I give you a call next week and we'll set something up again.Okay..Thanks Christian." Jack released the handset from his hold and it fell to the blanket. Jack smiled in relief as Fraiser rescued the handset and placed it back onto the base, his obligation was fulfilled. "Good kid. He figured it was work kept me."
Both Daniel and Janet had smiled at Jack's end of the one sided conversation. His few remaining connections to life before Charlie's death were so obviously precious to him, and it showed so clearly in his kindness and dedication to preserving those links.
Janet laughed softly: missed engagements was indeed an occupational hazard. Thankfully, Cassie was understanding and her sitter accommodating and reliable. "That's my end of the bargain fulfilled, Colonel. You'll rest now, right?" It was worded as a question, but there was obviously only one acceptable answer.
"Yep, Doc." He smiled sleepily again, drugs overtaking his forced wakefulness. "Thanks".
"I need to see you in my office before you go, please, Daniel" Fraiser started to bundle the phone cord, winding it back towards the doorway.
"Just a minute, Doc." Daniel made no move to follow her, remaining seated by the bedside.
"Just a minute, Daniel.." her voice held a clear warning of the consequence of disobedience as she wound her way back into her office.
Daniel leaned forward towards his friend and spoke again. "Jack. I'm really sorry I dropped your book.It's a mess now." Daniel struggled for a way to explain what he had seen. To express the anguish in his heart. To apologise for having been really and truly believed dead. A way to unearth something perhaps better left buried in the past. But as quickly as Daniel searched for the words, Jack was being swallowed by the drugs sedating effects.
"It's all right. It needed reorganising anyway." Jack's eyes were fluttering closed now. He forced them open one last time. "You fell again.are you sure you didn't hurt yourself?." That something was definitely wrong with Daniel had finally made it to the still working part of his brain, and nagged at his consciousness.
"I'm okay, Jack." Daniel paused and looked at his friend, unwilling to burden him.
Morphine or Morpheus was winning. Jack's eyes drifted shut, his breathing deepening into the pattern of sleep. Daniel gently held his friends unbandaged elbow for a moment and made for as rapid an exit as possible, given his lack of balance. The infirmary door shut softly behind him, and he turned straight into the glare of his dismayed doctor.
"Well. Well. Well. If you don't want to disturb Colonel O'Neill with my checking you over in the infirmary, I can walk you back to your office and do it there." Her hands were poised on her hips, her frustration and concern evident in her stance. She too was tired, and wanted nothing more than to finish with her last patient and rest. Her patience with her patients had run out.
"I'm fine. It was just a stumble" He started out hop, step, on his crutches, deliberately ignoring the doctor.
She fell into slow step beside him, her expression softening for just a moment. "Daniel. I just need to re-check your ankle, and make sure you've not aggravated it with that fall."
Predictably, he protested with surprising vehemence. "Janet. It was just a stumble. I'm OK."
She turned sharply, and stepped in front of him. "No. You are not 'okay.' You're obviously in more pain than before and you won't tell me what you hurt when you fell in Jack's office. I need to know." Her usually mild voice had a sharp edge and she held her breath waiting for his response.
Daniel took a breath deep enough for both of them.
"My obituary was written in the book." Daniel took another deep breath "My Goddamn Obituary was written in Jack's book." His breaths kept coming in deep gasps. The corridor, deserted as it was, suddenly seemed far too crowded with unwelcome ghosts of so many dead friends and comrades.
"Oh, Daniel." Words failed her.
"It fell out when I dropped his book. My death certificate...the obituary....I didn't mean for it to...I don't know why he would send me to find his book when he knew that was in it." His words tumbled out in a rush and he swayed precariously on his crutches. His world suddenly seemed very far away and dark. Daniel succumbed to it.
Slowly, Janet's calming voice came back to him. "Daniel. Deep breaths now.In through the nose; out through your mouth."
He was sitting against the wall, on a sentry's abandoned chair.
"You didn't die. That's all that matters, Daniel. You're okay" At the tears starting to stream down his face, she reached her arms around him, and gently hugged him to her, rubbing his back in a soothing circle. She had no medicine but time and compassion to heal this wound. Thankfully, the corridor remained deserted from other living souls.
It was only a few more corners through the base to lead Daniel to his nearby office. After a few long minutes, Janet coaxed him back to his feet, and walked him carefully to his office couch. This was one night when Daniel didn't need to be escorted back to the infirmary and Jack's bedside.
Easing him gently onto the couch, Janet searched the office to find something with which to cover him, finding only a small woven blanket on the couch back. Her hand on his back as she pulled it around his shoulder offered reassurance as well as professional assessment; her fingers tender as they ran over his muscles feeling for new swelling. Her inconspicious examination moved down his back, checking his legs, and finally probing gently at his swollen ankle.
He winced slightly at each movement, rubbing his long fingers over his face in fatigued discomfort, letting his mind tumble towards the inevitable questions, so lost in them as to be almost oblivious to her words.
"Daniel.I'm going to go back to the infirmary and bring back some ice for your ankle." Daniel shivered slightly under her hand on his shoulder, as she maternally tucked the small throw more firmly around him. "And a proper blanket" She started to turn towards the door, but was stopped by a soft voice.
"Jan.Did you really think I was dead too?"
She froze. She had hoped, selfishly, that Daniel would have slept long enough for Jack to be up to this first discussion, but it was not to be. She leaned down back towards him.
It was her signature on the death certificate. He would have seen it--there was no denying her part in his pain. She had believed he was gone, that the universe was truly poorer for the loss of wonderful friend. A wisp of anger ran through. It was the others who had assured her he was gone, cremated on an alien world, without more than a volcanic funeral pyre. But she had believed them that he was dead...and he had been very much alive, alone and trapped, but alive. Daniel deserved her honesty...that she too had been tricked into abandoning him. "For a time, Daniel...Yes".
"Jack?" The meaning was clear. Did Jack really believe he was gone?
In any other circumstance, she would hesitate to speak for the enigmatic colonel, but he had stood by her side, his eyes bright, as she had signed the Death Certificate, and added it to the official papers needed for the memorial service to proceed. He had believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that his friend was gone. The rigid mask of his face on that day, and the faint smell of alcohol that still clung to his breath were testament to his grief.
"None of us knew any better, Daniel. I am so sorry." It was pitiful excuse. But no one had known there was a chance, no one had known Daniel's inner strength, no one knew that images could be planted so craftily into the human mind. No one would make those mistakes again. It was her only defence. In her world now, even a dead body was not an absolute. 'Believed' to be dead would never be cause for funerals, memorials, or obituaries again. Missing in action would be an anguish too often felt--sometimes without ever any certainty. 'Dead' was never again to be said too soon. She had seen to that. But even that, and all her words could not apologise for Daniel's pain, for Jack's pain. Words would never be enough. She had nothing more to offer.
"Daniel.I need to go back to the infirmary, but I'll be back in a few minutes. Okay?" Janet's voice held barely a trace of the anguish she felt: it was even, professional. She held the tone precariously, knowing it wouldn't last a centimetre beyond the doorway.
Daniel nodded slightly. He knew she would return in a short few minutes, no doubt with ice, pills and too many blankets. He knew she'd return with her eyes a little less bright, and her grief tucked back behind her own walls, for his benefit. Surging physical pain refused to let him drift into the darkness, but his soul fell deeply into a twilight lit well, escaping the lumps under him, the hum of the mountain, and after a few more minutes of solitude, the ministering hands and demands of his doctor.
Halfway through the night, Janet had woken on the chair beside Daniel's couch. He was deeply asleep now, between exhaustion and the analgesics she had encouraged him to swallow. The loudest noise as she rose was the creaking of her joints from hours of stiff sitting. Daniel stirred for a moment at the sound, freezing her in place. Not wanting Daniel to drag himself into awareness she waited patiently. He resettled quickly, only half making an attempt to roll over on the narrow couch.
Softly Janet crept out the door, shielding the light from the hall from his eyes with her body, leaving him to hopefully dreamless sleep. She needed to find her own cot, kept hidden in her office, and gather her strength in sleep for the difficult conversations of the coming dawn. Morning, and the pain that would come with it, would be upon them all too soon.
Morning came early in the infirmary. The few patients who had been resident overnight needed washing up, breakfast, morning medication and dressing changes. Colonel Jack O'Neill tolerated the rituals with a minimum of grace and was looking for a target of opportunity for his frustration when Janet Fraiser walked in, her hair still damp from a stolen shower in the infirmaries bathroom, dark circles evident under her eyes.
With his chart in her hand, she started to check his dressings.
"Doc. Tell me I'm sprung from the clutches of Nurse Evil-gale!" He whined unbecomingly as he glared at the retreating figure of the nurse who had offered to feed him what passed for scrambled eggs and toast. He was managing the spoon between bandaged fingers very nicely, thank you, Florence.
"Soon, Colonel. We need to change the dressings, get your oral antibiotics started and." she paused in her efficient check of his finger tips, "...talk about Daniel"
He glanced at her, concerned eyes questioning her.
"He was pretty upset last night." Where to begin. How to explain. She paused for the final time before launching into her prepared spiel. "When he went for your address book, he dropped it "
Jack nodded. This he remembered "He fell, right?" There had been something else, but sleep had obscured it.
"Yes. He fell and dropped some papers. There were some personal papers of yours." Janet spared an unneeded glance back to the bedside monitors, taking a final moment to collect herself before continuing.
Jack nodded again, trying to recall more of the vague sense of concern that dogged him. The book was a convenient and private place to tuck things.
".including the papers from when..when Daniel was presumed dead. He saw them." Janet left off abruptly. There was no need to say more. Jack would know what it had done to Daniel.
Jack bit his teeth sharply into his lip and closed his eyes in self reproach. "Damn. He was never supposed to see those." Guilt at having even kept the papers swept over him. Daniel might have suspected...might have been awake enough in the first few minutes of his rescue to remember the half-joking comments made about what had been said at his memorial, but he had always assumed Daniel didn't really remember Carter's in-opportune remark and the surprise in the control room at his safe return to the SGC. It was something they had never talked about. Easier to put it behind them, to just move on. Till now.
Janet made her hands busy with pulling the intravenous needle from the back of Jack's hand. "I'll find a uniform for you, Colonel, and we'll release you. "
He nodded absently.
Jack O'Neill's progress down the hall towards the anthropology department head's office was slow, hampered by his bruised rib cage and bruised legs. Janet had said she'd tucked Daniel in on his office couch, and given him enough painkillers that he would no doubt still be there, sleeping under their influence. The walk gave him time to plan what to say.what could he say. 'Sorry' didn't really begin to cover it: either presuming him dead and abandoning him on a distant world, or the truth about the situation that all concerned had held unspoken agreement to keep from Daniel. Daniel had been shaken enough to be un-observant in the days after his return, and Fraiser's holding him in the infirmary for an extra few days to rule out any more serious sequale had given both the team members and the administration time to undo the damage they had done to Daniel's restored state as a living member of the tax paying public. Then again, Daniel had dropped the questions about what had transpired while he was 'away' as if he had been aware to some measure that the certain knowledge could be worse than a blank space in his personal history. Perhaps he had been unwilling to know the truth. He had taken the choice from Daniel with his stupidity. The papers should have been destroyed.
The corridor curved, and Jack found himself outside the office door, still unprepared. Sparing his still bandaged hands from rapping on the door, he instead nudged it open with his elbow. The door was, as always, unlocked and it gave in without resistance. He stepped into the dim room, and closed the door lightly behind him.
Daniel was indeed still asleep on the couch, wrapped tightly in two woven blankets, a melted bag of ice slumped onto the floor at his feet. Even at the sound of Jack's feet on the hard floor, Daniel failed to stir.
Jack let out the breath he had been holding. Daniel needed sleep to heal as well. This could wait. This should wait. He eased himself down into the chair left in place by the doctor and settled himself in to wait for Daniel to wake of his own volition. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift towards the words he would need in the hours to come. The walk had drained his small reserves and sleep came quickly.
Daniel woke first, stirring gently on the couch, arms seeking to disentangle themselves from the blankets. One hand reached free and reflexively searched the back of the couch for his glasses. His hand found them and pressed them to his face. Jack's sleeping form came into view. Memory came back. Jack knew, or he wouldn't be sitting vigil by this couch when he should still be in a hospital bed. Daniel rolled back into the couch, begging for a few more minutes to compose himself, but the noise of rustling blankets was loud in the room.
"Hey, Daniel." Jack spoke lowly, cracking his eyes open from his slouched pose.
"Jack.I'm sorry" Daniel's voice was muffled by the back of the couch.
"You have nothing to apologise for cDaniel" Jack's voice was suddenly loud in the silent room. He came forward in the chair, resting his hand on Daniel's shoulder, squeezing it tightly.
Daniel rolled over onto his back, his face coming up for air and to meet Jack's gaze. "I have."
"You have nothing to apologise for, Daniel. It was my fault." Jack leaned forward, tolerating the increased pain in his chest for the physical closeness to his friend. "I should have told you that we'd believed you.killed." His eye's refused to meet Daniel's, looking away to let the brightness of memory drain away. "You shouldn't have found out like that."
Daniel's voice was just a whisper. "I knew then." There was a pregnant pause. "I knew that Hammond had thought I was dead" He let out a sad little laugh. "When I got back, my Visa card wouldn't work, and when I called them, they said 'I was dead'. Jack." the tone in Daniel's voice turned Jack's eyes back towards him. It was haunted, empty... "I just didn't think you really believed I was gone"
Jack wanted to excuse himself, wanted to say anything that would ease Daniel's pain, that would ease his own pain. But the truth was the only thing left to share. "I did, Daniel. I'm sorry."
Daniel's voice held no malice. "Why didn't you tell me."
"We.I thought you didn't need that too, Daniel. You came back. We fixed your MasterCard..." He finished with a small laugh. A long moment passed between them, and he continued "I'm sorry that I didn't look for you sooner, Daniel. You know it wasn't Fraiser's fault...I told her you were gone..."
Daniel nodded, he understood that she was doing her duty, he had seen in her expression how hard it had been for her, how hard it still was for her.
Jack continued. "At first, the memories seemed almost too strong.like flashbacks. I couldn't even see past them to question them. It was only when they started to fall apart--mine and Carters--that we questioned them. We went back for you, and there you were.alive."
Daniel jerked his head forward. "Memories?"
Jack's heart dropped. He'd made the assumption in that split second that since Daniel had known about being declared killed in action, that he knew the reasons behind that fateful decision. That it had been based on their own eyewitness accounts of the death.
"Nem planted memories of your death in Carter, Teal'c and me. We came back believing we'd seen you killed, Daniel. After the funeral, they started to fade.and we questioned what we thought we'd seen, and we went back to try to find you. That's when you.surfaced." The truth was out. Jack let out the last of his breath and the tension he'd been holding since his first words with Fraiser.
Daniel's head dropped back to the armrest of the couch, his eyes closing. "Jack.He did that to you?" So typically Daniel.his concern for the pain of others so much stronger than concern for himself. A defence mechanism of the finest kind, easier to focus on someone else's pain, than his own.
"No, Daniel. He did that to you." Jack's voice was final. "He was just manipulating us to keep you hostage. I didn't want you to end up more of a." He paused before continuing. Daniel had never seen himself as a victim in any of the hell he had lived through. He deserved better than that. "I didn't want to see you hurt anymore."
"I wasn't hurt, Jack." Daniel blurted out the words and pulled himself upright on the couch. No sooner had his feet reached the ground, than he winced at the pressure on his ballooned ankle.
"He definitely tried, Daniel." Jack breathed out the words with resignation, taking in the coffee stained shadows under Daniel's eyes. These weren't from the mission the day before.they were from a night spent agonising, even in sleep, over events two years past. He didn't need to add that Nem had done more than try to hurt Daniel: he had succeeded, was succeeding.
Daniel was quiet for a long minute, then his face cleared of the darkness it had held. "Did you mean what you wrote Jack." Daniel cracked a small smile, in counterpoint to Jack's confused expression.
"Mean what?" Jack shook his head lightly, still unsure at the sudden change in Daniel's line of conversation, and unwilling to make another mistake.
"What you wrote.in my obituary?" Daniel's eyes met his in a firm gaze. Demanding one more truth.
"All of it." He paused again, his nails released from pressing into his bandaged palms "I didn't know what else to say." Jack apologised even as the bitter memory of pouring over line after line of paper, searching for the words to summarise the man who had become his team mate and friend seemed so close. The words had seemed so inadequate, sanitised as they were for public consumption. They had barely scratched the surface of the agony he had felt, let alone translated it onto paper.
"Thank you, Jack" Daniel leaned forward, resting his hand on Jack's loosely held fist, saying louder than he could have shouted, that the truth was enough. That perhaps it hadn't been such a bad thing that the papers had slipped. That this too would pass.
Jack sat back in his chair, better able to breathe for the relief of pressure on his injured chest, and his heart. He had come to apologise for his thoughtlessness, for exposing Daniel to something he should never have seen, and instead Daniel was granting him absolution for his sins in those terrible days. This was what he had failed to captured in a few short lines. What was precious then and now. There were no words for this friendship, no words for this compassion, no words adequate for this man.
There was nothing left to say that hadn't already been said.
"Doc's going to come by soon to check on you, Daniel. If she finds me anywhere but my bunk, she'll have me hung." Jack levered himself off the chair and took a few limping steps towards the door, turning back to give a long look at his friend, to ensure he was right to leave him alone.
"Tell her I'm fine, Jack...We're okay. It's all okay, Jack." Daniel's eyes were closed again, his head slumped back against the couch in an awkward half sit, no doubt allowing what had been said to find it's rightful place in his world view. The doctor would no doubt have words to say about his ankle being anywhere but elevated, but it wasn't important. Daniel was at peace with the hand written paper, he would find peace within himself this day.
Jack tightened his protesting hand around the metallic door handle, and slipped back into the corridor.
A huge Thank You to Pough for her wonderful editing, and kick starting this piece into something presentable.and relatively ellipse free! Thanks to Mom of Toad for her challenge that started this whole thing, and just begged for more to be written. Any misinterpretation of the episode, grammar mistakes and awful Latin is solely my fault. Any and all feedback is greatfully accepted.on list, off list, by carrier pigeon.
© July 27, 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.