All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

This story has spoilers for the Curse

Rated PG13

 

Tangled Webs - Part 2

A mug of coffee and a plate of hot toast was captured in the beam of the flashlight. The aroma taunted Daniel as he wearily climbed to his feet, knowing if he didn't get up quickly he'd get the painful fingers-in-the-hair assistance. His stomach growled as the sight of food triggered his body's natural reaction to too many hours without sustenance, and the thought of wrapping his frozen fingers around the warmth of the mug before tasting the rich flavour…

 

Get a grip, Jackson! He pulled his thoughts together, reminding himself of the strategy he'd settled upon after the second question and answer session. Not that it was much of a strategy, but it was preferable to being asked the same questions over and over again. At least if he took the initiative he might learn something about his captor that he could use. Plus, John Doe here still hadn't laid a finger on him and was now apparently bringing him breakfast - Daniel figured the guy was either acting under orders not to hurt him, in which case he could afford to push things a bit - or he really was just a hard-up journalist desperate for a story. Either way Daniel was beginning to feel a bit more confident about his future.

 

He pulled in a deep breath, but regretted it immediately as he began to cough. Damn. That was not part of the plan. Conjuring up a mental image of Jack at his sarcastic best, he somehow managed to get the words out between hacks.

 

"If that's my breakfast… I should point out… that I prefer Columbian coffee beans to Brazilian." He pulled in another breath, aware of a tightness in his chest. "And I like…"

 

"Shut up!"

 

"Okay," Daniel said slowly. "But I hope you haven't sugared the coffee."

 

"I said shut up!"

 

The flashlight beam swung away from the breakfast tray and into Daniel's eyes. He flinched and turned away.

 

The voice growled at him. "You get to eat when you start answering my questions."

 

Daniel almost laughed at the threat. After all he'd been through with SG-1? Beaten and zatted by a bunch of ugly Jaffa in an alternative reality; treated to electric shock therapy by some fundamentalist nutcase on another planet; nearly choked as the Blood of Sokar was forced down his throat on Netu. Did this guy seriously think he was going to start blabbing secrets in exchange for a slice of toast?

 

He turned his head, forced himself to look straight at the flashlight despite the fact it brought tears to his eyes and felt like someone was sticking skewers in his temples. He even managed a tight smile as he spoke. "I'm not hungry."

 

The flashlight jerked away, and Daniel heard the sound of breaking china. He guessed John Doe had just kicked the tray across the room. Well that was fine by him. Just as long as the booted feet kept well away from his ribs…

 

"You will tell me what I want to know. You might be able to survive without food, but pretty soon you'll start feeling the bite of dehydration. And that isn't going to be pretty. I have time on my side, Jackson. Think that one over."

 

The flashlight cut off. Daniel heard the door slam. Alone again, he slid back to the floor. Score round three to Doctor Jackson. He hadn't even had to lie. He really wasn't hungry; the nausea associated with his headache had seen to that despite his stomach's rumbling. Thirst was another matter, however. His throat was sore and his mouth already felt like sandpaper. John Doe was right on that one. He couldn't go without fluids for long; and from what he'd heard, dying of thirst was a particularly unpleasant way to go. He needed to come up with a better strategy. He sighed heavily, feeling the tightness in his chest once again. Damn it. He must've caught a chest cold tramping about in that fog. So much for the theory about not getting sick from being cold and damp.

 

Exhausted, he folded onto his side on the floor, pulled his knees up to his chest. If he could just sleep for a little while, then he'd come up with a plan.

 

*************************

 

Jack smiled warmly as Anne Gardner handed him a mug of freshly brewed coffee. The woman had been somewhat alarmed to discover anyone on her doorstep this early in the morning, let alone representatives of the United States Air Force, and he was doing his best to put her at ease despite wanting to go straight to the issue of Daniel's disappearance.

 

He sipped politely at the coffee as Anne passed a mug to Fraiser, who was seated on the sofa next to him. The older woman then crossed the living room and settled herself in a high-backed armchair. "I'm sorry my husband isn't here. I'm something of a golf widow."

 

"Golf." Jack nodded enthusiastically. "Great game. Got a hole in one once."

 

"Really." Anne leaned forward slightly. "John would love to hear about that."

 

Jack smiled, the memory of hitting golf balls through the Stargate one of the few good things to have come out of the interminable time loop thing he and Teal'c had been stuck in. "Well, I did cheat a little. The hole was a bit bigger than usual."

 

"I see," Anne replied politely, although her face said she didn't understand at all. She turned her attention to Janet. "You said you're Doctor Jackson's doctor?" 

 

"That's right." Janet set her mug on the small table in front of her. She glanced towards Jack who nodded his permission to go ahead with their prepared cover story. "We're extremely worried about him. He didn't return to his hotel last night."

 

"Oh?" Anne looked genuinely concerned.

 

Janet continued, "Doctor Jackson recently suffered a head injury, and... well, to be honest, he may not be entirely rational at the moment. You may have noticed last night? Some of the things he may have said?"

Anne considered for a moment but then shook her head. "No. I thought he looked unwell when we met him off the plane. I said so to John at the time. But I put that down to the jetlag."

 

Jack made a small circular motion at the side of his head. "He wasn't even a little… flaky?"

 

"Flaky?" Anne wrinkled her brow. "Not that I noticed. A little nervous maybe. Distracted even. But not what you would describe as… flaky." 

 

Jack exchanged a relieved look with Fraiser. Daniel had apparently resisted the urge to launch into a lecture on alien parasites, Egyptian gods and interplanetary travel.

 

"Mrs Gardner," Janet drew the woman's attention. "It's imperative we find Doctor Jackson. If you can tell us anything that might help us trace him."

 

"Oh I do hope nothing untoward has happened to him. I told John…" Anne stopped her expression suddenly wary.

 

"Yes?" Janet prompted, her tone gentle.

 

Anne brushed at some imaginary dust on the arm of her chair. "I told John he should've driven Doctor Jackson back to the hotel. Such a foggy night and him on foot and all."

 

"Daniel walked back from here?" Jack asked.

 

A hint of colour crept into Anne's cheeks. "There was a bit of a scene. My other daughter, Joanne, she's taken the loss of Sarah very hard. And Sarah confided in her about things she never told me. Joanne believes Doctor Jackson… Daniel… treated Sarah badly when they were together."

 

"I see." Jack filed the information away, deciding it didn't seem particularly pertinent to Daniel's absence now. Unless Joanne was a raving psychopath with a misplaced thirst for vengeance… Damn! He really had to curb his instinct for worst-case scenarios.

 

Clearly relieved to have confessed her secret, Anne's face reverted back to concern. "Do you think he might've taken the footpath? Would be easy to get lost on such a night. With the fog and all… well, there's a ruined hut or two he may have taken shelter in. And if he's unwell…"

 

"Footpath?" Jack asked.

 

"Aye. Go down the lane, turn left onto the road and you'll see the sign about a hundred yards along."

 

Jack offered up a silent prayer that Anne was right, that Daniel had simply gotten lost and taken shelter. Jack could well imagine an upset Daniel setting off on foot, chewing over the events of the evening, and paying no attention to his route until he was half way up some mountain. Not that Anne's suggestion set his mind much at ease given Janet's concerns about Daniel's physical and mental well-being. But it was better than several of the other scenarios his mind had been providing, and at least this one was plausible. Even when 'normal', Daniel had proven he could be single-minded to the point at which his personal safety was sometimes compromised.

 

Jack was already on his feet as Anne finished her directions. "Thank you, Mrs Gardner."

 

"You'll let me know when you find him?"

 

Janet nodded. "Of course. As soon as we have any news."

 

*************************************

 

David was running late. Grabbing a cup of coffee as he headed into the control room of the police headquarters, he slid behind his desk trying to look as though he'd been in the building for quite some time.

 

His partner, Peter Kiddle glanced over and smirked. "You look like shit. Been out on the town?"

 

David swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "I could use a couple of aspirin."

 

Kiddle shook his head in wry amusement as he pulled open his desk drawer and tossed over a packet of Anadin. "When will you learn not to party mid-week?"

 

In response, David merely shrugged and attempted to look smug. It suited him just fine to have Kiddle thinking he'd been out on the tiles. Not that his partner was likely to guess the truth. David wasn't exactly in the habit of kidnapping scientists and locking them in his basement.

 

Swallowing the aspirin, David turned to his stacked in-tray but his attention was immediately captured by Inspector Smith crossing the office in the company of a tall and strikingly attractive woman. David tilted his chair back, trying to pull Kiddle's attention away from the scene.

 

"Who's the looker?"

 

"Don't even think about it. She's way out of your league."

 

"Oh?" The information aroused David's interest.

 

"Major Samantha Carter. United States Air Force," Kiddle supplied.

 

David felt his stomach lurch and his chair crashed forward. Had Kiddle noticed his reaction? Fortunately not - his partner was too busy studying the woman's denim-clad legs. Okay, stay calm. Quickly David regained his composure and gave an appreciative whistle. " I wouldn't mind seeing her in uniform." He smirked. "Or rather… out of uniform."

 

Kiddle shook his head in good-natured disgust. "For a guy who is talking about settling down, you've sure got wandering eyes."

 

"Oh yeah! Like you weren't drooling all over your paperwork." He tried to sound casual as he fished for more information. "So what's she doing here?"

 

"If you'd been here on time you'd have found out," Kiddle teased.

 

David shot him a sour look. "Well I'm here now, so spill."

 

As the woman disappeared through the exit, Kiddle sighed and finally gave David his full attention. "That scientist we were asked to pick up? Seems he's one of the air force's hot young researchers. Only he's currently missing a few marbles… " Kiddle tapped his temple. "Some kind of head injury."

 

"Really?" David tried to get his mind around this new information. Jackson had seemed pretty compus mentus to him. In fact, the scientist had appeared far too composed for someone handcuffed and locked up in the cold and dark.

 

"Anyway," Kiddle continued, breaking across David's thoughts. "This Major Carter is very keen to find him. And surprise, surprise - all of a sudden Smithy seems to think international co-operation is a good idea. Amazing how a long pair of legs can suddenly alter priorities, isn't it? He's putting four men on the job."

 

David paled. It had never crossed his mind Jackson would be considered important enough for people to actually come looking for him. Damn. Suddenly everything was way too complicated. Four men and a USAF major - how long would it take them to figure Jackson's connection with the Gardners and then with him? He quickly ran through the events of the previous evening, desperately hoping he hadn't inadvertently left any clues. Oh God. Joanne. He had to contact her - tell her not to let on he knew about her dinner with Jackson.

 

"You okay, mate?" Kiddle was looking at him with concern.

 

"Err… yeah." David managed a weak smile. "Too much beer last night. Think I might just…" He nodded towards the men's toilets and hurried away.

 

Safe in a cubicle he ran an agitated hand through his hair. What was there to connect him to Jackson? Joanne obviously, but that wasn't a problem. He was sure she'd cover for him. So what else? As far as he knew there was no evidence linking him to the kidnap - he was sure no one had seen him snatch Jackson. Plus, he'd taken great care to ensure Jackson hadn't seen his face and fortunately he hadn't laid so much as a finger on the scientist, with the exception of slugging him on the jaw. The guy might have a few bruises from that headlong dive into the ditch, but that couldn't be pinned on him. No, the biggest problem was Jackson himself. It wouldn't be hard to figure out who had kidnapped him once Jackson started describing the questions he'd been asked.

 

Okay, there was an obvious solution; kill Jackson and dump his body. David shuddered at the thought. Roughing up a suspect he believed guilty of some horrible crime was one thing. Cold-blooded murder, that was a whole different ballgame.

 

No. That wasn't an option. He ran over his original plan - to scare the scientist into confessing the truth and then… Well, he hadn't really thought through the 'and then' part. He'd imagined Jackson would be the sort of guy who would be intimidated by threats; that telling him to keep quiet or else would cover it. Now he wasn't at all sure that would be the case. From the way Jackson behaved anybody would think he'd been in this kind of situation before. And there was this mysterious connection with the US Air Force. What if he was some kind of special ops guy? David shook his head, dismissing the thought. No, it was far more likely Jackson was so off the wall he simply didn't understand the danger he was in. Oh shit. This was definitely getting much too complicated.

 

He had to concentrate. Make a plan and put it into action. So what did he actually know? One, Jackson was in his cellar. Two, the Air Force wanted Jackson but were spreading it around he was some kind of nut.

 

Some kind of nut. That was it. If Jackson did turn up saying he'd been kidnapped and abused, why would they believe him?

 

All he needed to do was get Jackson out of his basement to some place where a story of being abducted would seem crazy. Perhaps make it look like he'd been out drinking and passed out in an alley? No, that wouldn't work, the lack of witnesses to a night of boozing would be suspicious. A mugging then? Yeah, make it look like Jackson had been mugged. That would seem far more plausible than a story about being kidnapped. With any luck Jackson's Air Force buddies, or whoever the hell they were, would whisk him back to the States. Out of sight. Out of mind.

 

David felt a quick flutter of excitement at the idea. A mugging would also explain away the bruise on Jackson's jaw. Actually it would explain away a hell of a lot more than one bruise.

 

************************

 

Daniel blinked hard before he remembered where he was. Oh yeah - in the dark, guest of some raving nutcase who had stolen his clothes. And guess what, it was still as cold as the inside of a deep freeze, not that he'd ever sat in one but he could imagine. Awkwardly he levered himself into a sitting position, his shoulder blades against the wall and his cuffed hands tucked into the hollow at the small of his back. The ground was damp and cold against his skin. He really hoped he wasn't getting frostbite in his extremities - just how much protection did a pair of Fruit of the Loom boxers offer anyway? 

 

He was desperately thirsty, but in keeping with his recently acquired concern over certain parts of his anatomy, he also was painfully aware he needed to pee. Odd how the body could manage to inflict such opposite discomforts on him at the same time.

 

Well he could do something about the latter at least, although possibly not without some difficulty given the handcuffs. He blew out an exasperated breath and set about climbing to his feet, gritting his teeth as the movement set off the percussion orchestra in his head. What he wouldn't give for some of those impossible-to-swallow painkillers of Janet's right now. Some minutes later and following a good number of contortions he really hoped he'd never have to perform in daylight, he returned from the furthest corner of his prison feeling somewhat relieved.

 

So now what? Was he really just going to sit and wait for his interrogator to come back and question him again? Guess so. Right now his options were looking pretty much like a big fat zero.

 

Wait! John Doe had kicked the breakfast tray over and then left without clearing it away. Maybe, just maybe…

 

Daniel began to search the cell using his feet to feel for the crockery. The exertion drove the worst of the chill away, but it was a painstaking task. His thigh muscles kept cramping painfully as he shifted his balance first from one leg then to the other, and the need for constant rest breaks as his body objected to the activity nagged away at his patience. Without the support of the wall just keeping upright was a task in itself, and he swore softly, aware of the weakness in his limbs and the ever-increasing tightness in his chest. His cough was getting worse too. He was lucky if he could go more than a few minutes without having to double over as it wracked his lungs and chest and hammered the bass drum that was resident in his brain.

 

There! At last, a rough edge against his toes. A wave of victory gave him fresh energy, and he quickly dropped to his knees, tilting himself sideways until his fingers curled around the coveted item; a piece of broken crockery. A potential weapon. Exploring it quickly by touch, Daniel allowed himself a small smile. It was just perfect, tapering at one end to a sharp point and small enough to hide in his hand.

 

***************************

 

Joanne Gardner watched from her office window as the uniformed police officers climbed into their car and drove away. Slumping back into her chair, she finally gave into the fear that had threatened to engulf her during the brief interview with them.

 

Her mind was spinning with information. An hour before the police had arrived she'd received a terse phone call from David. 'Jackson's disappeared, and the police will probably be paying you a visit. Whatever you do, don't tell them I knew about his visit to your parents.'

 

He'd refused to say anymore, simply demanding she trust him. Reluctantly she'd complied. When asked about her movements after Jackson left her parents house she told the police she'd gone to David's but pretended she'd wanted to dismiss the incident with Jackson from her mind, that she hadn't mentioned him, preferring instead to just enjoy being with her boyfriend. The policemen knew David of course, and Joanne could tell from the looks they exchanged they were both conjuring up images of her in bed with him. At the time she'd considered it all well and good if it stopped them pressing for more details, but now… now she was worried sick about what she'd gotten herself into. And just what David was involved in. Why did David want her to lie? What had happened between him leaving her to arrest Jackson and now?

 

A sick feeling crept into Joanne's stomach as her sharp mind began putting together speculation and facts. At the very least David must know something about Jackson's disappearance. At the worst… what if he was responsible for it? She'd had suspicions before that David and his colleagues sometimes played close to the line, that the old 'good cop, bad cop' routine wasn't quite the storybook scenario they liked to pretend it was. But surely he wouldn't do something like that. He had no reason to. Did he? Oh God…

 

The telephone rang, pulling her attention back to her work. As she spoke her name into the receiver, Joanne glanced at the clock. It was still early afternoon. As soon as she got off work, she'd find out exactly what David was up to.

 

***************************

 

Jack pushed open the hotel door then, remembering his manners despite his sour mood, waited to let Fraiser go first. She brushed past him, complaining the rain had soaked right through her supposedly waterproof jacket, and if anyone got between her and a hot shower, she wouldn't be held responsible for her actions. It was a sentiment he could sympathise with; he felt wrung out himself, both physically and mentally. He followed her into the hotel reception, his gaze immediately falling on Teal'c, sitting on a hard-backed chair by the desk.

 

"No Daniel?" he demanded.

 

"No." Teal'c's gaze drifted past Jack. "You have not met with success, either."

 

"Oh yeah, we found Daniel, but we decided to leave him on the hills." Jack snapped the words before he could stop himself. He rubbed his forehead in frustration as a frown deepened the sombre expression on Teal'c's face. "Sorry."

 

Janet moved to his side. "We covered miles of ground. There was no sign of Daniel either on the path or for some considerable distance to either side of it."

 

"Any news from Carter?" Jack asked.

 

Teal'c nodded. "Major Carter has obtained the assistance of the local police but has made no other progress."

 

Jack blew out his cheeks. "Damn it. He has to be somewhere!" He glanced irritably around the hotel lobby. "I'm going to take a shower. We'll meet up in the bar in thirty minutes, okay? Teal'c, order some sandwiches. We missed lunch and at this rate we may be missing dinner too."

           

****************************

 

Martin Stone stood in front of David's desk, a cup of coffee in one hand, a bacon sandwich in the other, and a smug smirk on his face. "Hey Miller. Just been over to interview your girlfriend."

 

"Oh?" It was all David could do to force the word out, his blood suddenly pounding loudly in his ears.

 

"Yeah. You lucky bastard. She's a looker."

 

David ignored the comment, easily slipping into the mode of concerned boyfriend. "Is she in trouble for something?"

 

Stone shook his head. "That Jackson guy we're looking for… dated her sister. He paid her and the folks a visit yesterday."

 

"Really?" David forced surprise into his voice. "She never said anything."

 

Stone gave a dirty chuckle. "Don't suppose you spend a lot of time talking. I know I wouldn't be thinking of talking if I had half an hour with her."

 

David gave the man a sour look. "She's not in danger or anything, is she? I heard the guy is off his head."

 

"I don't think you need worry. According to the beautiful Major Carter, Jackson's something of a pacifist despite working for the military. Wouldn't hurt a flea. Just a bit careless about taking his medication."

 

"That's okay, then." David pulled another file from his in-tray, trying to conjure up the right balance of casual concern. "So you got any leads on where Jackson's gone?"

 

Stone pulled a face. "Not a thing" He bit into his sandwich and started to walk away. "If you ask me, the guy's been abducted by aliens. Reckon this is going to be another one for our X-files cabinet. But if I get to spend a day or two in the company of the luscious Major Carter, I won't be complaining."

 

As Stone headed out, David gazed unseeing at the file in front of him. Four more hours and then he could get out of here. It was definitely time wrap things up and get rid of Jackson.

 

****************************

 

Daniel knew something was different the moment his captor spoke. A shiver of fear rippled through him as his brain made the connection between observation and reason. The restraint that had previously edged John Doe's voice was gone. Oh shit!

 

"On your feet, Jackson!"

 

The cruel glare of the flashlight drilled into Daniel's eyes. He flinched and did his best to comply quickly, folding his fingers tightly around the piece of broken plate as he did so. Dread lodged itself in the pit of his stomach as his brain snickered at the pathetic weapon. Just what the hell did he think he was going to achieve with a bit of china and his hands cuffed behind him? As his breathing quickened, a bout of coughing seized him, the unwelcome feeling of thick mucus in his lungs, and then… oh God, in his mouth. He had no choice but to spit on the floor.

 

"You make me want to puke." John Doe's voice was harsh.

 

"Yeah well, I'm not exactly over-awed with you either." Daniel managed to say as he leaned heavily against the wall. Now he was vertical, he was even more aware of his aching limbs and the fact his breathing was beginning to resemble laboured puffs compared to usual. A wave of dizziness threatened his composure. "I need a doctor."

 

His statement was met by a short laugh.

 

"What you need, and what you're going to get if you don't answer my questions, is a damn good hiding. Now let's take it from when the tomb started to collapse."

 

Daniel groaned silently to himself. Over and over - the same questions. He tilted his head back, a resigned expression on his face. Even before the words were out of his mouth he'd figured asking for a doctor was likely to meet with the same success as asking if he couldn't go home now, please, but maybe his captor would be amenable to a lesser demand. "At least let me sit down." 

 

"You'll sit when I say so," John Doe snapped. "Now. The tomb started to collapse."

 

Daniel pulled in a weary breath and started to speak, his voice a monotone. How many times had he recited this story? "The tomb started to collapse. A large block hit Steven Rayner, knocking him unconscious. I pulled Rayner clear. Sarah ran deeper into the tomb to retrieve a gold amulet. I told her not to…"

 

"Enough!"

 

Daniel was plunged back into darkness as the sharp command rang out. An instant later what little breath he had in his lungs was knocked from him as a muscular body catapulted into him, pushing him hard against the wall. An arm pressed painfully across his windpipe. Oh God! He couldn't breath at all now.

 

"I know you're lying, Jackson. And I'm sick of it. This time you're going to tell me the truth."

 

The arm eased back a fraction, and Daniel sucked in a wheezing breath. His heart was pounding so fast now he could almost hear the blood in his veins. Yet he was determined he wasn't going to give this bastard the satisfaction of knowing just how scared he was. Licking his lips in the darkness, he summoned up as much bravado as he could. It was time to gamble a little, to find out if he really was dealing with the NID or with… who-knew-what.

 

"You…" He pulled in another breath. It would really help if this gorilla would let him suck in enough air to speak. "Want it… from... the tomb collapsing?"

 

"Yes!" It was more a snarl than a word.

 

"Okay… there was this… alien space ship."

 

A fist impacted with Daniel's stomach, driving him to the ground. Curling around the fire in his guts, he desperately concentrated on pulling in air. Despite the agony, though, he felt a rush of satisfaction. This definitely wasn't NID. They would've reacted with interest to that comment. No, this was… Daniel screwed up his face, trying to concentrate around the pain. This was someone to whom his attempt to tell the truth - the real, honest-to-God truth - was taken as him acting like a smart-ass.

 

John Doe's voice was raw with anger. "Bastard! I warned you not to play games with me."

 

Daniel curled tighter as he sensed the man looming above him. A booted foot contacted with his ribs, pulling a cry of pain from him. As he tried to roll out of the way it penetrated his fevered mind that his gamble hadn't been such a bright idea. Even if he told the truth now, he wasn't going to be believed. The boot caught him again, this time on the right thigh, sending a rush of agony up his leg and into his groin. A grunt of pain tore from his throat.

 

Light flared again, and a heavy hand slammed into his right shoulder, knocking him onto his back. Pain knifed through his restrained wrists, dancing up his forearms and igniting nerve endings across his shoulders and upper back. The handcuffs gouged into the skin at the small of his back, adding to his misery. As he turned his head away from the painful brightness and tried to twist his hips to relieve his tortured arms of his own weight, he felt feet clamp either side him. Seconds later, what felt like two hundred pounds of muscle dropped onto his stomach, pinning him to the ground and cruelly trapping his arms again; the pathetic piece of plate biting into his own skin. 

 

Barely able to handle the onslaught of numerous signals of pain and misery that were now reaching his brain, Daniel was dimly aware of John Doe's angry demand for the truth. A hard stinging slap snapped his head to the left, a split lip barely registering on the pain scale. Bells reverberated in Daniel's head while his mind obscenely rejoiced in the feeling of moisture as his tongue instinctively flickered over the damage.

 

John Doe's voice crashed over him, reciting a promised menu of painful experiences, all of which Daniel was sure would stretch Fraiser's talents of repair. Somewhere in the distance a woman's voice sounded. Daniel grasped at the sound like a drowning man. A woman? Sam? Was she here? Was he rescued? Please God, let it be rescue.

 

"Shit!" The word was growled.

 

Daniel flinched as he felt the man's body move, but then John Doe's weight lifted off him. Seconds later the door slammed.

 

Painfully Daniel rolled onto his side, hissing as blood started to flow back into his arms, reawakening numbed nerve ends with an intense burning. He knew he wasn't seriously injured - no broken bones as far as he could tell - but shit, everything hurt. Closing his eyes, he tried to shut out the pain, particularly the skewers that were apparently drilling their way into his head, and concentrate on breathing. Shallow breath in. Shallow breath out. And don't, above all, think about what'll happen when his abuser returns.

 

*********************

 

"David? Are you here?" Joanne pocketed her key as she moved from living room to kitchen. She'd seen his car in the driveway, so he couldn't be far. A sound from behind her made her backtrack, and she hurried out of the kitchen just in time to see David turn the key in the cellar door.

 

Joanne's gaze flickered to the locked door and then back towards David. Was that guilt on his face? He certainly didn't seem pleased to see her, didn't make any attempt to greet her with his usual smile and kiss. She stepped back into the kitchen, trusting him to follow her.

 

Words tumbled out of her mouth. "You scared me silly with that phone call this morning." She turned to face him, arms crossed defensively over her chest. "The police came to my office right after you called. And they've been questioning Mum and Dad…"

 

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's nothing to worry about."

 

"Nothing to worry about?!" Joanne could hardly believe her ears. He was definitely hiding something. And since when did he lock the cellar? Her eyes narrowed. "What were you doing just now? In the cellar?"

 

David's gaze shifted to some point behind her right ear. "Tidying up."

 

It was so obviously a lie, Joanne almost laughed. She studied him more closely, her gaze falling on a streak of glistening red on the back of his hand. "You've cut yourself."

 

Reaching for a kleenex, David shrugged. "It's nothing."

 

"Let me see." Joanne was across the room, her hand in his before he could stop her. Her eyes widened as she took the kleenex from him and wiped the blood away revealing undamaged skin beneath. "David?" She turned his hand over, searching for a cut. The blood obviously wasn't his. "Oh God!" Realisation struck. "Please tell me that isn't…"

 

"Jackson's blood?" David held her gaze coolly. "I think I just split his lip."

 

Joanne took a step backwards, sinking weakly onto a kitchen chair. "What the hell have you done?"

 

"What you wanted me to do."

 

"What?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "I never meant… I didn't. No, this isn't happening. It's some kind of joke, right?"

 

David shook his head, his chin defiant. "No joke. I snatched him off the road last night, after I left you to pick him up. You said you wanted to know the truth. I figured I could… persuade him to talk."

 

She wanted to scream at him - not like this - but the lure of knowing what he'd discovered outweighed the horror of what he'd done. "And?"

 

The defiance melted into frustration. "Nothing. He's told me nothing." David leaned his fists on the table, his face animated. "But he's hiding something. I'm sure of it. If I just had more time…"

 

The words were like a slap in the face. "More time? God, David, have you gone mad?"

 

He glared down at her. "I did this for you."

 

"Oh no." She was on her feet in a moment, backing away from him. "Don't pull that on me. I never asked you to kidnap him." She snatched up the blood-stained kleenex, holding it up, her voice accusing. "Is he hurt bad?"

 

David shook his head. "What do you think I am?" He paced away from her. "Things just got a bit… You have to believe me, I didn't plan on hurting him. Hell, I didn't even plan on snatching him. But then you were upset. I was mad, and there he was. Walking on his own in the middle of nowhere. I just wanted to scare him into talking, that's all."

 

She stared at his back, her mind spinning. "For God's sake, David! You have to let him go. People are looking for him."

 

"You think I don't know that!"

 

She watched him pace again, it finally dawning on her that beneath the bravado he was just as scared as she was. "So what are you going to do?"

 

He turned towards her and shook his head, his words chilling her. "Not me, Joanne. Us."

 

*******************************

 

Daniel curled tighter as he heard the door open again, his mind delivering up nightmare images from the threats John Doe had recited to him. The flashlight searched the room, swiftly pinpointing his position - the same place as when John Doe had left him. He hadn't been able to summon up the energy or the will to move.

Now, feeling more defenceless and vulnerable than ever, a sense of panic threatened to overwhelm him as the flashlight was set down and quiet footsteps moved towards him. Something soft dropped to the floor by his head. Oh God - what was it? A whip? Or something worse? Could there be something worse? Maybe if he feigned being unconscious the guy would leave him alone? He really, really didn't want to find out what torture his captor had in mind. Couldn't he just go back to the blabbing-secrets -in-exchange-for-toast-and-coffee routine?

 

Okay, okay. Keep calm. He closed this eyes, tried to relax his muscles, even out his breathing.

 

The coughing fit caught him completely off-guard. Great! His body had to choose this moment to demonstrate how it was already torturing him. In his battle to breathe between the rib-wrenching hacks he almost forgot about John Doe. A hand thumping him hard between the shoulder blades and then pressing him chest down to the floor acted as a brutal reminder. Desperately Daniel tried to pull away, the image of a whip lashing into his exposed back too real, too horrifying.

 

"Hold still, you bastard!"

 

The hand was replaced with a booted foot and an accompanying increase in pressure, making it impossible for Daniel to move without risking a broken rib. He squeezed his eyes tight, knowing there was no escape from whatever was coming.

 

His voice was unnaturally high as he squeezed out his last bit of bravado between cough-racked breaths. "Torturing me… won't help. I won't… tell… you anything!"

 

"Shut up!"

 

Daniel arms were yanked painfully upwards as John Doe folded his fingers around the chain linking the cuffs. Desperately Daniel tightened his own grip on the piece of plate, its presence the only symbol of defiance he had. He groaned as his captor pulled his arms higher, then he heard the distinct sound of metal against metal. A click and then…

 

He let out a hiss of pain as his right arm flopped to the floor, fire streaking through his shoulder at the movement. He suddenly realised his hand was free of the handcuffs. At exactly the same moment he felt the pressure on his back ease a fraction. Without hesitation Daniel pushed himself up and to his left, letting out the pain the action produced in a howl of agony and pent up aggression. As John Doe momentarily lost his balance, Daniel felt the man's leg against his thigh. Putting every ounce of energy into the blow, he stabbed the plate shard in the direction of the leg.

 

The distinctive sound of tearing fabric was followed by a bellow of outrage. "Bastard! You've cut me!"

 

Daniel barely had a chance to register any satisfaction before his head was snapped back by a hand whipping across his cheek. He collapsed back to the floor, head ringing with renewed pain

 

Gasping for breath, he tried to get up. His hands were free. He'd injured the bastard. This was his chance. Somehow he managed to roll onto his stomach. Got his knees under him. Pushed himself semi-upright, hands curled into fists. Useless. Useless! He was too weak for hand-to-hand combat. He needed a weapon. The whip! He could use that couldn't he? Jack had made him watch those Indiana Jones movies often enough. How hard could it be?

 

He spotted it to his left, a blur of lighter colour against the dark of the floor. His hands reached for it, fingers folded in… soft, damp fabric. Wool? He pulled the object towards him. What the hell? This was his sweater. Totally confused he turned towards his captor. In the warped shadows from the flashlight, he caught a glimpse of angry eyes behind a ski mask Angry words assaulted his ears.

 

"You stupid bastard! I'm trying to let you go."

 

A backhander scored across his cheek, jerking his head the opposite way from before. Pain flared up his neck. A firework display exploded at the back of his eyes.

 

For one bizarre moment he registered the colours, thought how beautiful they looked. Then the blackness snatched him.

 

***************************

           

This was crazy. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy! No one was ever going to believe her.

 

Joanne looked down at the golden retriever trotting along by her side and ran through her story. She was just out walking. It was a beautiful night - that at least was true - and she needed some fresh air after all the trauma of the past few days. She'd taken Trish along for company and safety. And it was just pure chance, luck if you will, that she happened to come across him.

 

She rounded the bend. Up ahead was the turning to the McDougall's farm. A few hundred yards up the driveway was the first of their outbuildings - a hay barn. She swallowed nervously, her hand going to her pocket. Phone and wallet. Yes, she had everything she needed.

 

As she reached the turning, she hesitated, her nerves getting the better of her. She couldn't do this. How could David ask her to? David! Her heart lurched at the thought of him. If she didn't go through with it he'd lose everything - his job, his home, even his freedom. A cop doing a prison stretch? Joanne shivered. She'd heard stories about what happened to policemen on the inside. Could she really let him go through that?

 

She pulled in a deep breath, looked once more at Trish, who was now waiting patiently at her side, and took the turning. Fifty yards from the barn she reached into her pocket and pulled out the wallet. It was obviously a man's, soft black leather with a single press-stud fastener. The kind that folded in half and slipped inside an inner pocket.

 

Reaching down she held it to Trish's nose and then let the dog off the lead.

 

"Go find!" she ordered. "Go find!"

 

The retriever hesitated for a moment and then, with an excited bark, leapt into action. Or at least what Trish apparently considered action. Joanne swore softly to herself as Trish ran round her in a large loop. Nobody was ever going to believe her story that this daft family pet had mysteriously turned into a bloodhound. Damn it.

 

She glanced up and down the deserted road and then up the driveway to the distant lights of the farmhouse. What did it matter if she acted it out anyway? The dog could hardly tell a different story. Moving off the road and onto the soft grass verge, she opened the wallet, dropped it face down to the ground and then spent a couple of minutes grinding it into the dirt with her foot. Picking it up again she studied it for a moment, trying to ignore the accusing gaze of the young man in the photo ID. Satisfied it was dirty enough, she gritted her teeth, determined to get her part of this nightmare over and done with. With a low whistle she called Trish to heel and headed up the driveway.

 

The word 'barn' was actually rather grand for the structure she was walking towards. It was really little more than a corrugated iron roof set on four large wooden posts, but it served its purpose of keeping the hay dry, and it had been a welcome shelter to more than a few hill walkers in its time. Trish danced around it, barking maniacally, but as far as Joanne could tell the dog was more interested in the prospect of catching a rat than finding their quarry.

 

"Quiet girl," she called. She stepped under the shelter of the barn roof and moved into the recess created by missing bales. Even though she was expecting it, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a figure lying crumpled and unconscious in the far corner. Daniel Jackson.

 

Even from this distance and with nothing except the moonlight she could see the shadow of bruising on his face. His clothes were filthy, his jacket ripped as though someone had wrenched at the inner pocket. The reality of the situation hit her. Perverting the course of justice. Oh God. Her right hand fumbled for her mobile phone. For a long moment she stared at it, her mind numb. She couldn't do this! She couldn't….

 

A low moan from Jackson startled her, the phone dropping from her hand. Then suddenly Trish was there, dancing around her, snapping her back to reality. She bent, picked up the phone and punched the numbers as she straightened: 999.

 

"Emergency. Which service do you require?"

 

Joanne swallowed, her mouth dry. "Ambulance. I need an ambulance." She relayed the rest of  details shakily, knowing her nervousness would be taken as shock. Her location, her phone number, they were easy to give. The other questions were more difficult, and there was information she needed to relay even if not asked..

 

"I found his wallet. That's what led me to him." She hesitated, then went for it. "I think he was mugged."

 

The voice at the other end was crisp and efficient, advising her on what to do while waiting for the ambulance. Coming from St. Andrews it would take twenty minutes or so to reach them. As she finally clicked off the phone, Joanne realised none of the advice had actually made it to her brain. All she could do was stand and stare at David's handiwork. At what he had done for her. 

 

Another groan from Jackson jerked her out of her shock. Swallowing her reluctance she moved to where the scientist was lying face down on the hay-strewn ground.

 

"Doctor Jackson?"

 

No response. His head was turned, the left-side upwards. This close Joanne could see the individual bruises on his jaw and cheek. His bottom lip was cut and swollen, a smear of dried blood mixing with the dirt on his skin.

 

"Doctor Jackson?" She reached out her hand and gently shook his shoulder, noticing how raspy his breathing sounded. He felt hot too. Her mother had been right. Jackson was sick. She shook him again, harder this time. "Doctor Jackson!"

 

She was rewarded by another groan, and then his eyelids flickered.

 

"Doctor Jackson, it's me. Joanne Gardner."

 

His eyes opened slowly, the gaze unfocused at first.

 

"Doctor Jackson. Do you remember what happened to you?"

 

Bloodshot blue eyes stared up at her. "S…Sarah?"

 

She leaned closer to him. "It's Joanne. Sarah's sister. Doctor Jackson. Do you remember what happened to you? Do you remember being mugged?"

 

"J… Jo..anne?" He pushed himself onto his right side, pain registering on his face at the movement. He blinked once, twice, then said her name again, clearly confused. "Joanne?"

 

She nodded. "Take it easy, okay? I've called an ambulance. You've been hurt. I.. err… I found your wallet on the road." She held it up so he could see and then laid it by his side.

 

A frown pinched Jackson's eyebrows together. Joanne waited, unsure how much of her conversation he was registering. "Doctor Jackson?"

 

The frown deepened, and then he abruptly rolled face down again. A harsh coughing fit gripped him, sending tremors through his shoulders. When he finally stilled she thought he was unconscious again. She rocked back on her heels, only to be startled by the sound of his voice, even though it was barely more than a whisper. "Joanne?"

 

"Yes?"

 

" Never meant… to… hurt…"

 

She waited for him to finish, then realised he really had passed out this time. Damn! What had he been intending to say? Never meant to hurt…. Sarah? Or herself? Or was the word 'hurt' separate, voicing his own pain. She stared down at his features, the lines of pain and confusion smoothed in unconsciousness. She should try to wake him again, continue her attempt to convince him he'd been mugged. Her hand snaked out towards him, but as it did he rolled his head, a barely audible word escaping his lips, the sound little more than a soft sibilant. Was he calling her dead sister's name? Her hand checked, and she rose to her feet. It was time to let him be.

 

************************

 

The ring of a telephone broke the sombre silence of the SGC group as they sat in the bar of the Craith Arms, at a loss as to their next move. Jack set his beer down as Carter reached for the mobile telephone Inspector Smith had loaned her.

 

"Carter." She frowned with concentration, and then her face was suddenly animated. "They've found Daniel!"

 

"Yes!" Jack felt a overwhelming surge of relief, almost immediately tempered by concern. "Is he okay?"

 

Carter held up her hand for silence, then gestured urgently. "Paper. Pen."

 

Janet produced both, sliding them across the table towards her. Snatching up the pen, Carter began to scribble notes. Sitting opposite her, Jack almost twisted his neck to see what she was writing.

 

From Carter's side, Janet gave a brief smile. "Looks like directions, sir."

 

Jack's eyebrows raised in question, but he didn't have to wait long. "Well?"

 

Carter clicked off the phone and picked up the paper. "He's alive but hurt. Mugged, by the sounds of it."

 

"Mugged? How badly hurt?" Jack's eyes darkened with anger at the thought of someone laying into Daniel for the sake of a few dollars.

 

Carter shook her head. "I'm not sure, Colonel. Inspector Smith called the minute he heard. He didn't have details." She rose quickly to her feet. "He's about half a mile from here. If we're quick we'll get there ahead of the ambulance."

 

"Ambulance?" Jack's mind was racing ahead. Daniel had been missing for over twenty-four hours. How many of those had he been lying injured and alone, not knowing his friends were looking for him? And just how badly hurt was he that he couldn't find his way to help? Damn. Damn. Damn!

 

"Oh and guess what?" Carter said as she headed towards the door, Janet hard on her heels.

 

"Really not in the mood for guessing games, Carter!" Jack snapped.

 

"Joanne Gardner found him." She hesitated.

 

"And?" Jack could see she didn't want to say what was on her mind. "Just spit it out, Carter."

 

"There's still a chance he could let something slip, sir. About Osiris and Sarah"

 

Jack closed his eyes. Oh, shit. "You've got to stop taking those worst case scenario lessons, Carter."

 

She nodded, her face sombre. "Yes, sir."

 

****************************

           

"Daniel?" Jack was out of the car and running towards the barn, flashlight in one hand,  before Carter had pulled up the handbrake. He sprinted the short distance, pulling up short as a tall, slim young woman appeared before him. "Where is he? Where's Daniel?"

 

She stepped to one side. Jack's hand jerked the flashlight, directing the beam behind her.

 

"Oh Christ. Daniel!" He was at the younger man's side in a moment, stripping off his own jacket and laying it gently over the unconscious form. Almost immediately somebody dropped down beside him. Fraiser, breathing heavily, her face anxious.

 

"Okay, Colonel. Let me take a look at him." She leaned over, her hands expertly running over Daniel's body. "He's feverish. No obvious broken bones. Don't like the sound of his breathing… Help me roll him. Try to get him upright a bit."

 

As Carter and Teal'c joined the audience, Jack heard the sound of another vehicle approaching - the ambulance, he hoped. He turned to Teal'c. "Tell them to hurry!" As he turned his head he caught sight of Joanne standing motionless to one side. The young woman looked close to tears. "Carter." Jack hissed, catching her attention. He nodded towards Joanne.

 

Carter followed his gaze and nodded. "On it, Colonel."

 

His team organised, Jack turned back to Daniel, helping Janet prop the scientist against the stacked hay so his shoulders were raised off the ground. "Hang in there, buddy."

 

As though in response to the sound of his voice, Daniel stirred. Eyelids flickered slightly, and he let out a low moan.

 

Janet rested a hand lightly on Jack's shoulder. "Keep talking to him. I'll be right back."

 

Jack nodded, his attention still on Daniel. Reaching out he gently squeezed Daniel's forearm. "You with me here, Daniel?"

 

Daniel's eyelids flickered again and then opened, the surprise in them only too plain. "Jack?"

 

"Right here, Danny-boy. Think you can run off on a Scottish fishing trip and leave me behind?"

 

Weakly Daniel closed his eyes again.

 

"No, no," Jack admonished gently. "Stay with me, Daniel."

 

With obvious effort, Daniel opened his eyes again. "Where…?" A cough cut off his question.

 

Patiently Jack waited it out, exchanging a worried look with Carter across the barn. He didn't like the clogged sound of Daniel's breathing one little bit. As Daniel finally regained his control, Jack picked up where they'd left off. "Where are you? In a hay barn with a beautiful woman. You're going to be in so much trouble when Janet's nurses hear about this little escapade."

 

Daniel managed a weak smile although Jack was fairly sure the response was as much to his tone of voice as to comprehension of the words.

 

Very gently Jack probed a little. "So you remember what happened?"

 

Pain-filled blue eyes searched his face uncertainly.

 

Jack picked up Daniel's wallet,and thumbed it open. The pockets were empty except for Daniel's driver's licence and photo ID. He held it up so Daniel could see. "Got your wallet back but not your money." Jack's gaze flicked to Daniel's left wrist, and he pulled a face. "Looks like they got your watch too."

 

"They?" Daniel asked weakly, frowning as he painfully lifted his hand to take the wallet.

 

"The guy, or guys, who mugged you."

 

The frown deepened. "Wasn't…" Daniel dropped the wallet and rolled onto his side as another coughing fit seized him. Hearing the thick mucus in Daniel's lungs, Jack pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it into the younger man's hands. Daniel gave the briefest nod of gratitude before hacking into it.

 

"I don't need that back by the way," Jack commented with a sympathetic grimace.

 

Voices behind him drew his attention from Daniel's fight to breathe. Two medics, one male and one female, hurried towards him, carrying a stretcher and flanked by Teal'c on one side and Janet on the other.

 

As they set about the task of evacuating Daniel, Jack clasped his shoulder. "You're going to be okay. You hear me?"

 

Apparently unable to speak, Daniel gave a slight nod. Stepping back, Jack let the medics do their work. Janet was involved in an animated discussion with the female medic, but as Daniel was whisked away she turned to Jack.

 

"I'm going with him in the ambulance. I presume you'll follow." Jack nodded, and Janet's gaze slid to Joanne, who was now sitting on one of the bales of hay with Carter. "Somebody should take her home."

 

Jack nodded again. "I'll see to it. You just take care of Daniel, okay?"

 

Janet gave him a brief smile. "Daniel's going to be fine."

 

"Sure," Jack replied without enthusiasm. "Daniel always ends up 'fine', right?" He turned away suddenly angry not just that Daniel was hurt now, but for all the times his team-mate had been through the mangle either physically or emotionally. Just where did life get off kicking the guy?

 

"He's made it through worse." Apparently realising she'd said the wrong thing, Janet's expression turned apologetic. "He really will be fine." She squeezed Jack's upper arm sympathetically. "Just be there if he needs you, okay?"

 

"Always am," Jack sighed. "Always am."

 

***********************

 

When Jack arrived at the hospital he discovered Janet had somehow managed to commandeer a small private room for Daniel, no small miracle given their scarcity. Winding his way through the hospital maze using the directions he'd obtained in the main reception, Jack finally came across Carter and Teal'c sitting on hard plastic chairs in the hallway.

 

"So how's he doing?" He nodded towards Daniel's door.

 

Carter set aside the coffee cup she'd been toying with. "They're running tests. Janet thinks he's got pneumonia."

 

Jack made an exasperated noise. "Pneumonia?"

 

"He's badly dehydrated too."

 

Teal'c rose to his feet, his expression like stone. "Daniel Jackson has also been beaten, O'Neill. We must find the perpetrators of  this crime immediately."

 

Jack winced. "That's easier said than done, Teal'c. Chances are we won't ever catch who it was, unless of course Daniel got a good look at his attacker.  Even then…" Feeling his own frustration rising, Jack moved towards the door.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Yeah?" Jack threw the word over his shoulder.

 

"Janet said we were to wait out here."

 

Jack's head swivelled. He eyed Carter for a moment and then shrugged. "Sure she did." He gave her a cocky grin. "But she didn't mean me."

 

Sam opened her mouth to speak.

 

"Ah. Ah," Jack said quickly. "Don't say it, cos I ain't gonna hear it." With that he opened the door and stepped inside.

 

Fraiser's glare hit him full on as he closed the door behind him. She was standing next to a short, balding man who was wearing a white doctor's coat and fiddling with the IV line going into Daniel's forearm. Daniel was lying on the hospital bed, the head of which was raised and well padded with pillows, keeping his upper body semi-upright.

 

As Janet opened her mouth, no doubt preparing to back up the visual reproach with a verbal admonishment, Daniel snagged her sleeve, drawing her attention. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, and he pushed it down as she leaned closer to hear what he said. As she straightened up, gently but pointedly putting the mask back in place, she raised her eyebrows in question at doctor by her side.

 

He glanced at Jack. "Colonel O'Neill, I presume."

 

Uncomfortable under the man's scrutiny, Jack nodded. "That's me. And you are?"

 

Janet interrupted. "This is Doctor Johnson. He's responsible for Daniel's care."

 

Jack raised his eyebrows at the news, then realised Janet would have no authority in a Scottish hospital. "Doctor Johnson," he said in acknowledgement of the man's presence.

 

Johnson gave a brief nod. "You can stay for a few minutes, Colonel. But don't tax my patient. He needs to rest." He moved towards the door, calling over his shoulder to Janet, "I'll check back in thirty minutes or so. The lab results should be in by then." His eyes flickered back to Jack. "Not more than ten minutes, Colonel."

 

Jack gave a grateful smile, knowing when to act gracious. He moved towards the bed, getting his first good look at Daniel. He had bruises on both cheeks, the one on the right particularly spectacular. Dark shadows were etched beneath eyes dulled by pain and lack of sleep. Despite being dressed in a pristine white hospital gown, Daniel also looked in desperate need of a bath. Dirt and grime encrusted his skin and hair, making it stick up in unruly spikes, and the blood from his split lip was still smeared across his chin.

 

"So, you're looking better," Jack lied.

 

"Feel like… shit," Daniel confessed between laboured breaths.

 

Jack gave a wry smile.

 

Daniel pushed the oxygen mask from his face again and beckoned Jack closer. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, the normally pure tone raspy. "Jack… I wasn't mugged."

 

Jack frowned, his gaze sliding to Fraiser, who raised her eyebrows in some indecipherable expression. "Oh?" Jack wanted to kick himself for the suspicious way the query escaped him. He saw annoyance register on Daniel's face.

 

"I was kidnapped. Held somewhere and questioned about Sarah. About her disappearance." The scientist leaned deeper into his pillow, closing his eyes and apparently concentrating on breathing.

 

Kidnapped? Questioned? Jack tried to get his head round the notion. A dozen questions immediately leapt into his mind, most of them unwelcome.

 

Fraiser moved closer, her expression concerned. Her hand moved towards the mask. "Daniel, you really need…"

 

Daniel opened his eyes again. "Just… one minute," he pleaded, his gaze flicking from her face to Jack's.

 

"One more minute," Fraiser conceded reluctantly. "That's all."

 

Jack blew out a small breath, but before he could speak, Daniel was running away with the conversation.

 

"I know what you're thinking. Another wild tale thanks to the ribbon device." Daniel hesitated, clenching his teeth together for a long moment as though summoning up the energy to put enough persuasion into his voice. "You have to believe me, Jack."

 

Jack flinched. Daniel had guessed his thoughts far too accurately for comfort. Damn it. Why did they seem to be stuck in this repetitive loop - Daniel throwing some wild ball at him and asking him to not only catch it but to run with it too?

 

"Daniel…" The emphasis on the first syllable gave Jack's thought away even more.

 

"No, Jack." Daniel was becoming agitated. "Don't …" His words were cut off by a bout of coughing.

 

Janet immediately took control. "Okay, that's enough. Try to relax, Daniel. Colonel, please wait outside."

 

Running a hand through his hair, Jack nodded. "Take it easy, Daniel. I'll be back tomorrow." He flinched inwardly as Daniel, unable to speak for coughing, shot him an accusing look. As he turned towards the door he gave a silent sigh. Here we go again.

 

****************************

 

Something was bugging the colonel. Sam could tell the moment he stepped back into the corridor. "Daniel is going to be alright, isn't he?"

 

"You probably know more than I do, Carter. He's hacking his guts up right now."

 

Sam winced at the rough description. A college friend had suffered from a bout of pneumonia, and she knew it wasn't pretty. She watched as the colonel settled himself on one of the plastic chairs, convinced something else was bothering him but not knowing how to ask.

 

Moments later Janet stepped into the corridor. Colonel O'Neill was immediately on his feet.

 

"So is it possible?" he demanded.

 

Sam frowned. "Is what possible?"

 

The colonel glanced at her. "Daniel claims he wasn't mugged. That someone kidnapped him. So…" He turned back to Janet. "Is it possible he was kidnapped?"

 

Janet held his gaze. "If you're asking about Daniel's physical condition, then I can't give you a definite yes or no. He has bruises on his back and thighs, one of which looks like it was caused by a booted foot, and there is some light grazing on both wrists. But…"

 

Sam's eyes widened as she tried to process the idea of Daniel being snatched. "Grazing… from restraints perhaps?"

 

"I can't say for sure," Janet replied. "If it was just one wrist, I'd assume it happened when his watch was taken. Both wrists…" She shrugged. "It's hardly conclusive evidence of a kidnapping. To be honest, I don't know what to think. What with the ribbon device and the fact he's clearly unwell, who knows what his mind might've conjured up? And we can't just ignore the fact Daniel wasn't exactly rational in coming here in the first place."

 

"Actually," Sam began slowly, not really wanting to voice an idea she'd been chewing over without having any real proof to back it up. "I may have a theory that would make Daniel's actions perfectly rational."

 

"Oh?" Jack turned his attention to her. 

 

Sam nodded, knowing she'd have to go for it now. "Remember when Ammonet had him in the grip of her ribbon device?"

 

"What about it?" Jack demanded, clearly preferring not to think about the incident.

 

"Sha're managed to get a message to him about the Harcesis child."

 

Jack nodded. "And?"

 

"So it's possible Sarah did the same. That somehow Daniel was driven to return here to her parents, to maybe pass on some message." 

 

"Okay," Jack said slowly. "But even if she did, it doesn't explain why Daniel's now  claiming he was kidnapped."

 

Sam coloured, realising that having just defended Daniel's rationality, she was now going to shoot it down again. Oh boy, the colonel was not going to like this one.  "Well, sir, he did have some pretty wild notions about what had happened to him last time."

 

She watched as Jack's jaw set in a tight line, preparing herself for some cutting comment. Fortunately Janet came to her rescue.

 

The doctor glanced pointedly at her watch. "If you ask me, we all get some sleep, and there really isn't anything more we can do tonight. By tomorrow Daniel may be up to answering some questions."

 

Sam nodded. "Janet's right. We can't do anything now." Her gaze moved to Jack, who nodded, clearly reluctant to let the issue drop.

 

"Okay. First thing tomorrow," he said.  He began to head down the corridor. "Damn it. Why can't anything be simple? I don't even know if I want Daniel to be right or not."

 

*****************************

 

Daniel was ticked off. It wasn't as though he was asking a lot. All he wanted was to shower and shave. He could feel the dirt on his skin, and when he'd tried to run a hand through his hair, he'd discovered it was matted and filthy. Janet, however, had been adamant he wasn't to leave his bed for a full twenty-four hours. She had, of course, offered to track down a nurse with a sponge. He sighed. Telling her where to stick her offer had really not been a good idea. She'd promptly suggested perhaps the main thing in need of soap was his mouth and had adopted an icy expression throughout the rest of his examination that Daniel knew only too well meant he was going to pay dearly at his next SGC physical. Doctor Johnson hadn't exactly come to his rescue either. Apparently his comment that his nurses had better things to do than clean up patients had not been offered as support of Daniel's argument he needed a shower…  rather it had been a reminder Daniel should consider himself damn lucky to have a bed, never mind one in a private room.

 

So here he was, feeling several hundred percent better than he had when he arrived the previous night but still covered in grime. Perhaps it was a good thing he had the oxygen mask. He figured he probably didn't smell too sweet either, although he hadn't actually caught any of the nurses or orderlies wrinkling their noses in disgust, and since he was sure they'd clean him up for their own benefit if not his maybe it wasn't as bad as he suspected.

 

Truth was, though, fretting over his cleanliness kept his mind off all the other thoughts that were waiting to ambush him, like an irate General Hammond awaiting his return to the SGC, and the nagging doubts about what the ribbon device had done to him this time. Didn't someone once say if you were worried about being crazy it was proof you weren't? In which case he was clearly fine. Wasn't he? No, don't think about it. Concentrate on safe topics like the lack of bathroom rights.

 

He was just considering the practicalities of using his drinking water for washing when the door to his room opened, and Jack's familiar face appeared. "Sleeping beauty awakes!" He stepped into the room with a smile, closing the door behind him with his foot. "I stopped by this morning, but you were totally out of it."

 

"I was?" Daniel could see Jack was concealing something behind his back but decided not to let on. Jack had an annoying habit of using gifts to tease Daniel mercilessly. Instead, he went for a different, but equally pertinent question. "What time is it?"

 

Jack glanced at his watch, one hand still firmly behind his back. "Three-twenty."

 

Daniel adopted a puzzled expression. "In the afternoon?"

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"Guess I missed breakfast then." Daniel had vague memories of someone bringing food and then taking it away again. "Lunch too."

 

"Guess so. Hungry?"

 

Daniel considered for a moment, trying to remember when he had last eaten. A memory of mashed potatoes surfaced but was quickly buried again. Yes, he decided, he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact. The antibiotics they were pumping into him were definitely fast working, not to mention the painkillers had finally rid him of his percussion orchestra. He felt better now than he had for days.

 

Jack smiled and produced a small box from behind his back. "Pizza Hut special. All your favourite toppings."

 

As Daniel's eyes lit up at the sight, Jack moved to the bed, slipped the box on Daniel's lap and pulled up a chair. "So… they don't have soap and water in British hospitals?"

 

"Twenty-four-hour total bed rest," Daniel replied sulkily. He flipped open the pizza box and breathed in the aroma, his mouth watering with anticipation. He lifted the biggest piece and took a huge mouthful. "They won't even let me use the bathroom to pee," he complained, struggling to speak, eat and breathe.

 

Jack winced sympathetically and reached for a slice of pizza.

 

"Hey," Daniel protested. "If you wanted pizza, you should've brought the bigger size."

 

"Such gratitude," Jack complained good-naturedly as he succeeded in snagging a piece. "You try sneaking pizza past Fraiser. Be grateful you got this much."

 

Daniel shot him a brief smile. Almost instantly he turned serious. "I am grateful, Jack. And I don't just mean for the pizza. You guys came all this way for me."

 

"Yeah. And you didn't exactly make it easy for us, either."

 

Daniel felt himself begin to colour. "I… wasn't exactly thinking straight." As Jack's raised eyebrows shouted 'Ya think' louder than words could have done, Daniel's gaze slid away to the pizza. "It wasn't until I was here…" He hesitated for a moment and then looked up and blurted out one of the things he'd been trying so hard to not think about. "Jack, I'd understand if Hammond wanted me off the team."

 

"What?" Jack blinked, clearly not expecting the sudden change of subject.

 

Daniel licked his lips nervously. "After all this trouble... and being a potential security risk… Well I'm guessing Hammond might even prefer it if he never had to see my face again."

 

Jack shot Daniel another sympathetic look. "Hey, this gets chalked up to being under the influence of alien technology, okay? Hammond and I have already talked about it. Consider it done and dusted - just as soon as Fraiser gives you a clean bill of health, you're back on the team."

 

"Really?" Daniel asked, relief surging through him even as his mind registered the rider. Just as soon as Fraiser gives you a clean bill of health. The image of a padded cell leapt unwelcome from his memory. No, don't think about it. He was fine. Just fine.

 

Concentrating on his pizza, Jack seemed unaware of Daniel's unease. "Actually I happen to know Hammond is looking forward to see you again. Well, assuming you get up close and personal with some soap first."

 

"Oh?" Daniel immediately felt a pang of anxiety.

 

"Yeah, he said something about giving you the bill for a large number of airfares, hotel accommodation and…"

 

Daniel opened his mouth, only too willing to pick up the tab if it meant he was off the hook with Hammond when he caught the twitch at the edge of Jack's mouth. "Funny. Very funny." He took another bite of pizza but realised his appetite had already been sated. Not wanting to disappoint Jack after he'd gone to such trouble, Daniel chewed stoically, trying to convince himself he really was enjoying it.

 

"So Daniel," Jack said slowly. "About what you said last night." Daniel's head jerked up. "That whole kidnapping thing…"

 

Daniel swallowed his mouthful. "You think I dreamt all that up, don't you?"

 

"Well… truth is, we don't know what to think."

 

Daniel pursed his lips, frowning.

 

"Daniel…"

 

"No, it's okay Jack." He raised one finger to his lips. "I… errr… to be honest, everything's kind of…" Daniel winced and rubbed at his forehead. "It's all a bit hazy."

 

"Hazy." Jack voiced the word thoughtfully as Daniel sighed. "So…" Jack continued. "The kidnapping thing…"

 

"I know it would be much neater if I'd just been mugged, Jack, but I can't pretend that's what happened when I remember… other things."

 

"Okay. Want to tell me about these… other things?"

 

Daniel licked his lips, trying to order his thoughts. In the cold light of day, sitting in a hospital bed eating pizza, it really was like trying to recall a dream. "I was in the dark. Somebody, a man, was questioning me about Sarah. Over and over about what happened in Egypt." He looked Jack straight in the eye. "I didn't tell him anything. Not anything that he believed anyway."

 

"I didn't think you would," Jack said quickly. "So this person, did you get to see his face?"

 

Daniel shook his head. "No. He had a flashlight, but he always kept behind the beam. The one time I did see, he was wearing a ski mask. But he had…" Daniel stopped.

 

"Yes?"

           

"A Scottish accent." Daniel pulled a wry face. "That doesn't exactly help, does it?"

 

"Seeing how we're in Scotland? Well... no, not really."

 

Another flash of memory made Daniel straighten up. "I hurt him though. Just before he let me go."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah. Got him in the thigh with a piece of plate."

 

"A piece of plate?"

 

"He brought me toast on it and then got mad and smashed it. I managed to hide one of the pieces in my hand."

 

"And you stabbed him with it."

 

"Yes!"

 

"So all we need do is look for somebody with a Scottish accent and a cut thigh?"

 

Daniel could tell from Jack's tone that the older man was sceptical. He looked down at the remains of the pizza, desperately trying to dredge up something more useful.

 

Jack considered a moment. "So if you didn't see him, do you have any ideas as to who it might've been?"

 

Daniel shook his head. "At first I figured maybe NID, but I think they'd have been a whole hell of a lot rougher with me. This guy… he didn't lay a finger on me until just before he let me go. And the fact he let me go… if it had've been NID, well chances are you wouldn't have found me in a hay barn."

 

"Not alive and kicking anyway," Jack added.

 

"Thanks," Daniel said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

 

Jack winced. "Sorry." He paused. "So… anything else?"

 

Daniel shook his head, then suddenly recalled. "There was a car." He frowned. "I was walking - I don't remember where - and this car tried to run me down." He sighed as he looked at the expression on Jack's face. "That sounds totally nuts to you, doesn't it?"

 

"Well..."

 

Daniel sighed. "Well all right, it may sound crazy, but... "

 

"You don't remember getting mugged," Jack finished his sentence for him, much to his annoyance.

 

"No I don't," Daniel replied sharply. "And to be honest I don't know why your first assumption is always that I'm wrong, that I'm confused..."

 

"Hey! Don't go putting words in my mouth, Daniel. Besides, this isn't about whether you're right or wrong. This is about what that ribbon device does to your head. So alright, you knew about the Harcissus last time, but you also thought you'd quit the SGC and as I recall took quite a bit of convincing otherwise."

 

Daniel stared at him in bemusement. "Who said anything about the ribbon device?"

 

Jack looked away. "It was just something Carter mentioned."

 

"Sam?" For a moment, Daniel was confused, then he got it. "Oh great. So actually what you're saying is you all think I'm nuts." As Daniel spat the words, he caught a look of embarrassment flicker over Jack's face. Oh shit! That was exactly what Jack had been thinking. Daniel paled, his own doubts breaking free of their restraints. What if Jack was right? What if the ribbon device had inflicted some kind of brain damage on him? Rushing half way round the world to visit an ex-girlfriend's parents wasn't exactly the most rational of actions. What if the damage was permanent? Would he never be able to trust his own judgement again? You're not crazy if you're worried that you're crazy. But how could you be sure? What tricks could the brain play on itself? Oh God, he didn't want to end up like Nick. He didn't want to see the inside of a padded cell again.

 

"Daniel…"

 

He blinked and realised Jack was staring at him with concern. Pulling in a ragged breath, he was horrified to feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes. No, damn it. He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not in front of Jack. Not like this. He fumbled with one hand, trying to find the oxygen mask that had been lying on the bedcovers while pressing the heel of the other against his forehead, eyes squeezed tight. A deep breath. Concentrate on not coughing. Another breath. He felt a tear escape, hoped Jack would assume it was simply the tightness in his chest making his eyes water. Damn it. Damn it. Where the hell was that mask?

 

He flinched as he felt Jack's fingers fold around his own, guiding his hand to the left and the soft plastic of the mask. He could almost feel the sympathy radiating from Jack's touch. God, he couldn't handle that, not right now.

 

"Daniel, it's okay."

 

He glanced up and saw Jack was holding out a kleenex to him. Shit. Shit. Shit!

 

Daniel snatched it from him as Jack went on, "It's just reaction, you know. After all you've been through…"

 

"Right." Daniel sucked in a long breath and held Jack's gaze. "The question is, Jack, reaction to what. Being kidnapped, being mugged or being nuts?"

 

"Daniel, please." Jack's tone was conciliatory. "I never said…"

 

In response, Daniel flipped the lid of the pizza box shut and held it out to Jack, blue eyes glittering with barely restrained emotion. "I think I've had enough."

 

"Fine." Jack snatched the box. "Exactly what is it you want me to do, Daniel? Because right now, I'm the one going crazy here. You want me to go to the local police with this story? Is that it?"

 

"Yes! No! Oh God, I don't know."

 

For a moment the two men glared angrily at each other.

 

It was Daniel who looked away first. "I need to sleep." It wasn't a lie. The conversation had sapped what little strength he had.

           

Jack nodded. "Sure. Hey look, in the morning - I'm sure everything will seem clearer."

           

Daniel tightened the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, and closed his eyes. "Sure. It'll all be fine in the morning."

 

************************

 

It was late morning of the following day when Anne Gardner knocked on the door of Daniel's room. She gave him a shy smile as he motioned her to enter.

 

 

"I hope I'm not intruding. I just wanted to see that you were alright."

           

Daniel smiled, hoping to put her at ease. "It's good of you to come."

           

As she approached his bed, she reached into her bag and produced a cellophane-wrapped box. "I bought you some shortbread. I thought maybe you'd be needing to build up your strength and hospital food can be so unappetising."

           

"Thank you." Daniel took the box appreciatively. He gestured towards the chair beside his bed. "Please have a seat."

           

She smiled again and settled herself before studying him with more attention. He tried not to squirm under her open appraisal of his bruised face, her fingers brushing in empathy against her own cheek.  "I'm very sorry about the…"

           

"Mugging," Daniel supplied, knowing she would've been given the official story about what had happened.

           

"Yes." Anger flickered over her face and her voice took on an edge of vehemence. "Even in rural areas such as ours there are those who would best be locked away."

           

Daniel gave a small shrug. "It's just bruising. I've had worse." He mentally kicked himself as Anne's eyes widened slightly. "Archaeological digs can be hazardous," he added by way of explanation as the memory of being on the wrong end of a tether held by a seven foot Unas leapt unbidden to his mind. Almost immediately, though, he saw the pain of grief chase over Anne's face and realised his comment had elicited an altogether darker memory for her. Shit! Well done Daniel. Remind her Sarah is supposed to have died in an Egyptian tomb. He opened his mouth, his lips forming an apology, but Anne was quicker.

           

"Doctor Fraiser said you'd got pneumonia too."

           

"Yeah," Daniel gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Seems I… errr.. fell… into a ditch. Discovered the hard way that trying to breathe dirty water isn't a good idea. Fortunately your doctors were very quick at isolating the bacteria responsible." He raised his right arm, drawing her attention to the drip. "The antibiotics seem to be doing the trick."

           

"You must make sure you rest properly." Her tone was maternal. "You'll recover faster that way."

           

"Not much danger of me doing anything else right now," Daniel admitted ruefully. "Can't seem to stay awake for more than an hour at a time."

           

"Well I won't keep you," Anne immediately said.

           

"No, no, I didn't mean…" Daniel was mortified to think she'd taken his comment as a dismissal.

           

"No really." She cut him off and climbed to her feet.

           

"You've only just arrived," he protested, although he could tell from the set of her shoulders she wasn't going to be persuaded.

           

"I just wanted to check you were okay and…" She hesitated, looking suddenly uncertain.

           

"Yes?"

           

"I wondered if you might drop by the house before you go back to the States. There's something else I wish to give you. Something I think you should have."

           

"Oh?" Daniel's curiosity was aroused, but Anne was already moving towards the door.

           

"You will come, won't you?"

           

Seeing the earnest expression on her face, Daniel nodded. "Yes."

           

She smiled again, the action chasing away the shadows from her face. It occurred to Daniel she was once as beautiful as Sarah, would perhaps still have been beautiful had grief not etched its mark into her features. Sympathy and anger mingled at the unfairness of what she was suffering.

           

"Take care of yourself, Doctor Jackson."

 

"You too, Mrs Gardner."

 

********************************************

 

           

By the end of the week, Jack realised life had almost settled into a new routine. Sam and Teal'c had returned, albeit somewhat reluctantly, to Colorado and the SGC. Fraiser had charmed Doctor Johnson to such an extent he had taken on the bureaucracy of the UK's health service and, by some miracle, obtained her some sort of temporary, albeit unpaid, position that enabled him to not only virtually sign Daniel's care over to her but to ask her opinion on a whole range of other cases. Janet, much to Jack's surprise, had seemed to relish the opportunity to throw herself into the day-to-day working life of a general hospital.

 

As for his own routine, Jack had taken to walking the hills in the morning, eating lunch in the local pub and then spending the afternoons and early evenings amusing Daniel. At first Daniel had barely managed to stay awake long enough for a hand or two of gin, but on his most recent visit Jack had had the pants beaten off him in a game of chess. Daniel, he was relieved to admit, was most definitely on the mend.

           

Well, physically on the mend anyway. Daniel's mental state was another matter altogether. So far he'd successfully blocked all Jack's attempts to turn the conversation to what happened to him during the hours he was missing. The most Jack had managed to coax out of him had been an angry comment that it didn't matter what he said, the person responsible for his bruises wasn't going to be caught. Daniel had then clammed up, making it clear that while he would tolerate Jack's presence as a card partner he had no intention of forgiving him for the doubt he'd shown earlier.

           

Walking down the hospital corridor on his way to Daniel's room, Jack winced at the memory. He really hadn't intended to blurt out Carter's theory. But once it had escaped his mouth he could hardly deny he had given it at least some credence. Now he felt he was between a rock and a hard place - if he'd had even the slightest lead as to who might've kidnapped Daniel he would've followed it up long and hard, if only to prove to Daniel how much he valued him.  Since he couldn't do that, he was left with demonstrating his support by turning up at the hospital every day and trying not to let Daniel's frostiness bug him. Damn it. He could really live without Daniel's patented sulky look, especially when it was delivered from a face decorated with spectacular bruises.

           

Reaching Daniel's door he knocked and pushed it open, not waiting for an invitation to enter. To his surprise the room was empty except for a young orderly who was stripping the bed. Jack felt his stomach lurch, immediately fearing Daniel had taken it into his head to discharge himself. Before he could say anything, though, the orderly set his mind at rest.

           

"If you're looking for Doctor Jackson you'll find him out in the garden."

           

"The garden. Right. Thank you." Jack closed the door and then immediately opened it again, sticking his head back into the room. "And that would be where?"

           

The orderly smiled. "Down the corridor, turn left, go through the doors at the end. You can't miss it."

           

"Right. Thanks."

           

Down the corridor, turn left, through the doors and… there was Daniel, sitting on a small bench in the sunshine wearing the dark blue robe and brushed cotton PJs Carter had brought him as a farewell present. Unsurprisingly, Daniel was absorbed in a book, his long fingers fiddling with one corner of the page as he read. The IV line snaked from a portable stand and up his right sleeve, evidence that he was still in need of medical care despite his relaxed appearance.

           

"Hey, Daniel." Jack greeted him casually. His lips twitched in anticipation as Daniel glanced up, looking distinctly embarrassed. Now just what had he caught the younger man doing to elicit that response?

           

"Oh, Jack. Hi." Daniel closed the paperback and slid it into the pocket of his robe.

           

Good try, Danny-boy, Jack thought as he took a seat on the bench next to Daniel and stretched out his chino-clad legs. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face. "So… what ya doing?"

           

Jack opened his eyes just in time to catch the suspicious look Daniel shot him. "Janet figured I could use the fresh air."

           

"Uh-huh." With one fluid move, Jack reached over and around Daniel and plucked the book from his pocket.

           

"Jack!" Daniel protested.

           

"Area 51 - The Sphinx?" Jack smirked as he read the title on the gaudy cover. "Science fiction, Daniel?"

           

Daniel snatched the book back. "Robert Doherty is a very fine author. And…" he hesitated.

           

"Yes?" Jack prompted.

           

"Nothing." He slid another look at Jack, this one more accusatory. "You wouldn't understand."

           

"Oh, I'm hurt," Jack said with good humour. "C'mon, spill. What's the attraction?"

           

Daniel sighed. "Okay. But if you laugh..."

           

"Would I do that?" Jack protested.

           

Daniel gave him a long-suffering look. "The story is about an archaeologist who discovers the sphinx is an alien artefact." He glared at Jack as the older man made a bizarre noise that could only be described as a strangled laugh. "Jack." His tone was warning.

           

Jack tried desperately to keep a straight face. "So… you planning on auditioning for the film version?"

           

"See. I knew it!" Daniel complained, although there was no real anger in his voice. "You just come here every afternoon to take the piss out of me, don't you?"

           

"I'm sorry," Jack's apology was genuine. "But I mean… Area 51 - The Sphinx?"

           

"It's a very good book!"

           

Jack decided he'd had enough sport at Daniel's expense. "Too good to entice you away for a game of chess?"

           

Jack barely managed to smother a smirk as he watched Daniel battling with the urge to tell him where to stick his chess game and the desire to play. He couldn't resist goading the younger man. "Of course if you don't think you're up to it…"

           

"In your dreams, O'Neill." Daniel retorted as he rose to his feet. "Six  moves and you'll be begging for mercy."

           

"I think you mean in your dreams, Daniel."

           

Daniel folded one hand around the portable IV and headed towards the door. As the good-natured banter continued between them, Jack allowed himself to feel a moment of relief. Maybe Daniel was finally willing to forgive and forget his little faux pas over Carter's theory. He knew from Janet the police had paid Daniel a routine visit the previous day, and Daniel had simply gone with the mugging story, claiming he remembered nothing of any help in finding his attacker. Rather than feeling relieved, the news had unsettled Jack - it wasn't like Daniel to let something drop so easily. That he would do so had simply set Jack alarm bells ringing, fearing for Daniel's mood. Pneumonia and depression - didn't they often go hand in hand?

           

Of course it would certainly make life easier for everyone if Daniel had accepted that version of reality except… Jack sighed to himself. What if Daniel wasn't hallucinating? What if some mysterious person was grabbing members of the SGC? It was a thought that plagued him on his morning walks, and General Hammond was none too happy with the idea of it being even a remote possibility. But with no lead other than Daniel's somewhat unreliable memories…

           

They turned the corner into the hallway leading to Daniel's room still exchanging friendly insults. As two men dressed in dark suits approached them, clearly engaged in conversation, Jack stepped in front of Daniel to make room for them to pass. The gaze of the man on the right met his, acknowledging his action, then slid past him to rest on Daniel and… What the hell was that look for? Shock? Hell, Daniel might still be sporting bruises but he didn't warrant that reaction, especially in a hospital. Lost momentarily in his thoughts, he reached Daniel's door, pushed it open and suddenly realised Daniel wasn't directly behind him. Spinning round he saw Daniel some way back, leaning heavily against the wall.

           

"Daniel!" Jack sprinted back to him. "Daniel, what the hell..?"

           

Daniel's face was ashen, his breathing coming in quick laboured gasps, and his eyes unfocused, head turned in the direction of the departing men.

           

Trying to hold onto his growing sense of alarm, Jack gently pulled Daniel's face round towards his own. "You okay, buddy? C'mon, focus on me here. Daniel?"

           

Daniel blinked. "That was him."

           

"What?" Jack shook his head in confusion.

 

           

"That voice. It was him. The one that grabbed me." Daniel's gaze slid back to the now empty hallway.

           

Jack felt his stomach lurch. "You're sure."

           

Daniel nodded. "The one on the right."

           

Shit! That was what he'd seen. Recognition in the man's face, followed by embarrassment, guilt, fear. And now Daniel's reaction. Double shit! Jack's doubts vanished. Breaking into a sprint he launched himself down the corridor.

           

"Jack!" Daniel's voice, reflecting both concern and distress, echoed after him.

           

"Call Janet," he shouted back.

           

He reached the junction, gazed right then left. Damn it. Nothing. Instinct told him to go right. He turned and ran, almost colliding with a nurse pushing a tray full of meds. Down the corridor, past a dozen potential exits. Shit!

           

They could've gone anywhere and now he was getting closer to the hospital entrance. There were more people here. Visitors with concerned faces, an ambulance crew milling around, a young woman, arms full of flowers.

There! A glimpse of dark suit material. A turn of the head as the man's attention was caught by the ring of a mobile phone on a passer-by. Jack hurried forward, apologising as he side-stepped people.

 

The hallway opened into the large entrance foyer, filled with even more people. Through the crowd he could see the automatic doors open and close. A family, grandparents down to babe in arms, stepped through the doorway obscuring his view with helium-filled pink balloons bearing messages of congratulations.

 

The doors swished again.

 

Jack skidded past a woman pushing a trolley of books, rolled his body past one of the balloon carriers and finally reached the doors.

 

Swish… the doors opened, and he propelled himself out into the warm sunshine. Shading his eyes he scanned the scene in front of him, first left, then right.

 

Shit! He'd lost them.

 

           

He stood for a long moment, catching his breath, still hoping his targets would reappear. Finally… reluctantly he backtracked through the hospital. When he reached Daniel's room, he pushed the door open to find Daniel lying on top of the bed, the oxygen mask clutched to his face.

           

"You call Janet?" he demanded. Daniel still looked as white as a sheet.

           

"You didn't catch him, then?" Daniel asked, removing the mask and ignoring Jack's question.

           

Jack moved to the bed and hit the call button.

           

"I'm fine," Daniel protested.

           

"Like hell," Jack retorted. He slumped into the chair by the bed. "And no, I didn't catch him." He hesitated, then swore. "Did you get a good look at him?" He waited for an answer, but got none. "Daniel?" Blue eyes swivelled towards him.

           

"Sorry. What?"

           

Jack repeated the question. "Did you get a good look at the guy in the corridor? Enough to describe him to the police?"

           

Daniel gazed at him a moment. "I thought you didn't believe me. That this whole thing was just some crazy story…"

           

"Daniel." Jack cut him off, guessing where the scientist's thoughts were heading. A wave of guilt assailed him for having ever doubted Daniel's word.  "Let's just get one thing straight as of now. I do not think you are crazy. Okay?" He pinned the scientist with the most serious, most convincing look he could manage. "Okay?"

           

Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and then gave the smallest of nods. "Okay."

           

"Good." Jack felt a moment of relief. He probably still had some bridges to mend on this one, but at least he'd made a start. Right now, though, there was a more pressing issue. "So… this guy… did you see enough to describe him?"

           

"I…," Daniel stopped and drew in a shaky breath. His tongue flickered over bloodless lips, and then he shook his head. "No, I didn't. He was… I was… It was all so quick."

           

Jack sighed softly. "It's okay, Daniel. Really. It's okay."

           

"No it's not!" Daniel finally seemed to pull himself together. "He was here. Right here. And I blew it. He was past me before I realised and then… Shit! What about you? Did you see his face?"

           

Jack grimaced. "Kind of. Briefly." He saw the way Daniel's features crumpled at the news and felt his own frustration at not being able to put this right. He considered a moment, wondering how wise his next comment was going to be but then deciding to go for it. "We could get a police artist in, try to produce a picture between us."

           

Daniel gave a sharp laugh. "What the hell good would that do?"

           

Before Jack could reply a nurse arrived. He turned towards her. "Could you find Doctor Fraiser for us?"

           

Her gaze flickered over Daniel. "Is everything okay?"

           

"It will be. Just as soon as you find Doctor Frasier," Jack replied, automatically putting on a authoritative tone. With a brief nod, she was gone. Jack turned his attention back to Daniel, but before he could speak Daniel continued, his tone bitter.

           

"You don't have to humour me, Jack."

           

"Were you paying any attention just now when I said I didn't think you were crazy?" Jack's hurt tone earned him a contrite smile from Daniel.

           

"You really don't believe I'm flaky?"

           

Jack risked raising his eyebrows. "Hey, I said you weren't crazy. Flaky… now that's a whole different ball game."

           

Daniel gave a soft laugh and then sighed heavily. "God, Jack. I just don't know what to think anymore. I mean if you didn't buy my story, the local police aren't going to buy it either. And…" He raised a hand, cutting off Jack's protest. "Even if they did, they'd want to know answers to a whole lot of questions the SGC would consider classified."

            "Daniel, if we have a description we can start a manhunt."

           

"A manhunt. Right." Daniel looked away. "And assuming this 'manhunt' finds someone, Jack. What then? It'll be my word against his. And the minute Fraiser opens her mouth about my mental competence… Or Sam… "

           

"Daniel, don't. " Jack winced at the bitterness in the words. "Look, if we find someone we might find evidence."

           

Daniel shook his head. "I've been here over a week, Jack. There won't be any evidence."

           

Jack fell silent, unable to argue against that. Daniel was right. Whoever had grabbed him had also had plenty of time to erase any signs of the abduction. He blew out a loud breath. "So what do you want to do, Daniel?"

           

For a long moment Daniel gazed into the distance. When he finally met Jack's eyes, his face was set in resigned determination. "I just want to get the hell out of here. No more chasing shadows." 

 

******************************

 

Another five days slid past. Jack arrived at the hospital to find Daniel dressed in the brand new cable-knit sweater and blue jeans he'd purchased for him the day before. Jack couldn't resist smiling to himself at the sight. Carter might think she had the prerogative on re-styling Daniel's wardrobe, but Jack wasn't averse to taking the opportunity to wean the scientist off plaid and brown corduroy whenever it arose.

           

"Ready to go?" he asked, watching Daniel buckle his belt another notch tighter. Time for a few raids on the SGC's deserts by the look of things; Daniel had definitely lost more weight than was good for him. He was beginning to look positively skeletal.

           

"Absolutely," Daniel replied, gathering up a holdall of personal possessions and pulling on the leather jacket Jack had loaned him. It was slightly too big, but given the thickness of his sweater the extra inch or so in the shoulders was easily overlooked.

           

"So where's Fraiser? I thought she was meeting us here."

           

 Daniel smiled. "Ahhh…you may find getting Janet out of here a different story."

           

"Oh?"

           

Daniel's face adopted a conspiratorial expression. "I think she may have developed more than a professional interest in Doctor Johnson."

           

"You're kidding me," Jack said in surprise.

           

Daniel smirked. "They were discussing a conference in Hawaii last night. And I'm not sure they were planning on having separate rooms."

           

"Doctor Jackson!" Janet strode into the room. "You of all people should know better than to listen to hospital gossip."

           

"Oops," said Daniel innocently.

           

As Janet swept Daniel's chart off the end of his bed, Doctor Johnson arrived. Jack smiled as he saw a blush rise in Janet's cheeks.

           

She glared at him. "We just need to do an official handover."

           

"Uh-huh," Jack replied, aware his smile was turning into an all-out smirk.

           

Janet's glare darkened. "Perhaps you would like to wait outside?" Her gaze swept round to Daniel. "Both of you?"

           

Jack winked at Doctor Johnson and lead the way into the corridor. "Guess I'd better have a word with Hammond. The SGC may need to take on another medic."

           

"Hmmm?" Daniel clearly had something else on his mind.

           

"Daniel?"

           

"Huh?"

           

"I said I need to…" Jack sighed. "Never mind. Something bugging you?"

           

"No," Daniel replied quickly. "Just… I need to do something before we go to the airport."

           

"Oh?"

           

"I… umm..  I said I'd drop in and see someone."

 

***********************

 

"You sure you want to do this?" Jack asked as he switched off the car engine outside the Gardners' house.

           

Daniel nodded. "It sounded important, Jack. It won't take long." He pushed the car door open. "Besides, she expecting us now."

           

Climbing out of the rear seat, Janet piped up. "It had better not take long, Daniel. Our flight leaves at four."

           

Daniel smiled sweetly. "And there was me thinking you'd welcome an excuse to stay longer."

           

Janet returned his smile with an equally sweet one. "Brave words for a man about to return to my infirmary, Doctor Jackson."

           

"Ouch," Daniel said, raising his hands in defeat. "Shall we?" He gestured towards the Gardners'

           

Leading the way, Daniel rang the doorbell. Seconds later the door opened, revealing the slender figure of Anne Gardner.

           

"You made it," she smiled warmly and gestured him in. "Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Fraiser too. Come in. Come in. You're most welcome."

           

"Sorry we're late," Daniel said. "There was a slight delay leaving the hospital." He shot an amused look at Janet who pointedly ignored him.

           

"Well now you're here, let me make some tea. You do have time for tea?"

           

"Tea would be lovely," Daniel reassured her.

           

"Why don't you come and help me?" Anne suggested, her expression hopeful.

           

"Ahhh… okay," Daniel was caught off-guard by the request, but he could think of no reason not to. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders in answer to the unspoken question on Jack's face as he obediently followed her through the doorway in the direction of the kitchen.

           

As soon as she had him alone, Anne closed the door to the living room where Jack and Janet were making themselves comfortable. Hurrying through to the kitchen she flicked the switch on the kettle and then grabbed Daniel's hand.

           

"Come. I know you don't have much time, and I really need to give you something."

           

Perplexed he allowed himself to be led out of the kitchen and up the stairs. As they reached the landing, Anne opened a door on the right and ushered him in. Daniel felt his heart lurch as he realised instantly where he was - Sarah's bedroom.

           

"Mrs Gardner…" he began, feeling awkward.

           

She silenced him with a finger to her lips. "Please. Just a moment." She opened a drawer in the dressing table and drew out a small box before turning to face him. "Doctor Jackson, I don't know exactly what you meant to Sarah or what she meant to you. I do know she was devastated when you left the university and…" She opened the box and took out a piece of delicate silver jewellery on a silver chain. "I know that you gave her this."

           

Daniel let out a long low breath. "Yes, I did. It was a birthday present. It's an ankh - the Egyptian symbol of eternal life."

           

"Yes," Anne replied, studying his face. "It was very special to her, Doctor Jackson. In fact she was rarely seen without it on until…" She hesitated. "Well, perhaps it began to bring painful memories."

           

Daniel felt himself colour. "Mrs Gardner. You have to understand… what I did…. I only ever wanted to protect Sarah. When I knew I was risking my career… That by association she'd be risking hers…"

           

Anne smiled. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. The first time we met I saw the truth in your eyes."

           

"You did?" Daniel felt confused.

           

"Call it mother's instinct," Anne said. "But I knew you'd always do what was right for her. Even if she didn't understand." She reached out, took Daniel's left hand and folded the ankh and its chain into his palm. "I want you to have it."

           

"Oh?" Daniel didn't know what to say. "No, really I…"

           

"Please. Sarah would've wanted you to have it." Anne fixed him with a curious look. "Do you believe in everlasting life?"

           

"Ummmmm…. Well…"

           

"I do." She said it with such assurance Daniel could do little but look at her in amazement.

           

She smiled. "I know you'll probably just think that this is the rambling of a silly old woman, Doctor Jackson, but I can't help but believe that somehow, somewhere Sarah is still alive. Perhaps not as we once knew her. But she's out… maybe only in spirit, but still… she's out there." Her gaze went to Daniel's hand, still curled around the ankh. "Isn't that, after all, what the ankh symbolises? Isn't there always hope, Doctor Jackson?"

           

Daniel gazed at her in amazement, memories of what he had felt in the SGC after returning from Cairo flooding back to him, the urgent desire to bring hope… somehow, anyhow. He needn't have worried. Anne, in her own way, had already found what he, and perhaps Sarah, had wanted to give to her. He felt a smile creep over his face as he looked at Anne, seeing beyond her grief for the first time.

           

"Yes. There's always… hope."

           

*******************

 

They finished their tea, Daniel with the ankh wrapped in its box and safely stored in the inside pocket of Jack's jacket.

           

"Daniel?" Jack surreptitiously tapped his watch.

           

Daniel nodded. "We really must go, Anne." He climbed to his feet, his action mirrored almost instantly by the older woman. Across the room Jack and Janet also stood. "Thank you so much for the tea."

           

Anne smiled at him, her expression maternal, and in a moment of sudden affection he covered the two steps of distance between them and folded his arms around her. "Thank you for everything," he whispered.

           

For a moment she seemed taken aback, then she patted his shoulder. "You're welcome… Daniel."

           

Shuffling his feet at the unexpected display of emotion, Jack moved forward and thrust out his hand. "Well, goodbye, Mrs Gardner."

           

Escaping Daniel's embrace, Anne took his hand. "Colonel O'Neill." Her gaze slid past him to Janet. "Doctor Fraiser. You will take make sure Daniel rests properly."

           

Janet gave a weary smile. "I'll do my best, Mrs Gardner."

           

Behind them came unmistakable sound of the front door opening. "Mum. We're back."

           

Nervousness leapt onto Anne's face as they heard the door close and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. "It's Joanne. She's back earlier than I expected."

           

"We'd better go," Daniel said quickly, picking up Anne's concern.

           

She squeezed his arm and led the way into the hall. "Oh?" She stopped at the sight of a tall young man standing at the foot of the stairs. "David. I didn't realise you were here."

           

"Joanne and I decided to go into St Andrews tonight. Catch a film."

           

That voice! Daniel pulled to an abrupt halt almost causing Jack to collide into his back as David Miller turned from the stairs. For a moment the two men stared at each other. Daniel felt a rush of fear rise up and threaten to choke him, but almost instantly he quelled it. He wasn't handcuffed, sick and beaten in a dark cellar now; he was standing in someone's home with Jack at his back. He wasn't a victim. He could be in control here.   

           

"For crying out loud, Daniel, what'd you do…" Jack stopped, his expression hardening as his gaze fell on David. "You!"

           

"No!" Daniel's right hand flew out, snagging Jack's sleeve as the older man moved to pass him. "Jack. Don't!"

           

"Daniel?" Jack's voice was low and menacing.

           

Anne's worried gaze flitted from David to Jack to Daniel and back.

           

"David?" Joanne's voice called down the stairs, and then she suddenly appeared on the landing. A strangled squeak escaped her as she saw Daniel.

"This is your boyfriend?" Daniel asked, his voice brittle with self-control.

           

Her eyes wide with terror, Joanne nodded. Daniel felt his stomach lurch at her reaction, realising she knew the truth. What a tangled web he'd been ensnared in this time. A dozen questions leapt into his mind. Had they planned it together? Had she been watching? Goading David on? Or was she as innocent as he was? Just another victim in the sick curse of Osiris? He shook his head. What did it matter?

Slowly Daniel turned his attention back to David. His guilt was at least undeniable. Before Daniel could speak, though, Jack opened his mouth, addressing David with cold anger.

 

"How's the leg? Still sore I hope."

 

Any lasting doubt Daniel had about Jack believing him vanished. He felt Jack's muscles tense beneath his fingers as the colonel clenched his fists. Just within his range of vision he could see Janet, her face tense with concentration, as her gaze moved from one player in this bizarre scenario to another.

           

David opened his mouth. Closed it again. He glanced at Jack and then stared at Daniel for a long moment, clearly taking in the restraining hand on Jack's forearm. When he finally spoke his carefully worded question was directed to Daniel. "Assuming I knew what your friend is talking about, what would you do about it?" There was no challenge in his voice, just fear.

 

Daniel closed his eyes, drew in a long breath, trying to walk the dizzy line between thirsting for revenge and doing what was right, what would do the least harm. When he opened his eyes again he was looking at Joanne. God, she was so like Sarah. So like Anne, who was standing motionless, her face frozen in confused turmoil. Very slowly Daniel released the pressure on Jack's arm.

           

His tongue felt thick and heavy as he made himself speak. "We have a plane to catch."

           

"Daniel?!" Jack's voice was loud in his ear, his breath hot on his skin.

           

"Jack..." Daniel turned to meet the fierce brown-eyed gaze. His voice was low. "There's been enough hurt in this family."

           

Jack shook his head, his jaw clenched.

           

"Trust me?" Daniel threw every ounce of appeal into his voice. "There's nothing here to concern… us. He's Joanne's boyfriend."

           

He saw the hesitation in Jack's eyes, then the recognition of what he meant. He could almost see the thought as it reached Jack's brain - the kidnapping had been personal. The SGC was safe. Still he knew, Jack didn't like it one bit. But that was another issue. One they could argue over on the plane. On the way home.

           

Daniel turned back to face David. "Have you ever read the Book of the Dead?"

           

David stared at him blankly.

           

"Because there's one bit you should consider. It's in a chapter called 'Coming Forth by Day.'" He hesitated, recalling the ancient text before softly reciting, "'Permit me not to be judged according to the mouths of the multitude. May my soul lift itself up before Osiris having been found to have been pure when on earth.'"

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" David growled.

           

Daniel smiled coolly. "My conscience is clear. How's yours?"

           

David stared at him for a long moment and then, shame flushing across his features, he looked away.

           

Satisfied, Daniel turned to Jack. "Let's go home."

 

**************

 

Feedback, cookies and naked archaeologists should be sent to: 

Scribe

Return to Daniel's Diaries