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Part 2:
Daniel was gone. His apartment was empty. Despite the usual chaos that reigned there, Jack could tell that Daniel had packed and left in a hurry, taking clothes but, uncharacteristically, nothing that was unique to him. His laptop computer stood unattended on the table, surrounded by a pile of books - Daniel's journals stood in ranks on the shelf, apart from his current one, which lay, a pen shoved roughly into it, beside the laptop. Feeling ashamed to pry into his friend's life even more, but concerned for him, Jack picked up the journal. What he read there made him even more worried than he had been. Flipping back slowly from the most recent entry, Jack could see, for the first time that there was definitely something wrong with his friend. The journal was filled, like all Daniel's journals, with Daniel's distinctive scrawl, each page crammed with information. So what was different about the most recent entries? Still the same handwriting, but there seemed to be a different person writing. That sense of wonder that Daniel had somehow always managed to maintain, despite the most trying circumstances, was gone. In its place was an objectivity that went beyond clinical right through to glacial. No empathy lived in those pages. No attempts to understand the motivation of the people that they had met - just clear observation, like descriptions of bacteria under a microscope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm waiting for an explanation, colonel." If he had thought General Hammond's voice was cold, back when they had last spoken in the briefing room, now it held something of the Antarctic within it. Whatever happened next, Jack knew that he would have to tell the whole story of what had happened over the past few days - the look in the general's eyes alone was enough to assure him that only the entire story would be enough to satisfy. "I wish I had one, sir," Jack began. "Tell me exactly what has been going on with Dr. Jackson, colonel," the general barked, "...and this time leave nothing out." "Sir?" "I've seen the medical report on Captain Carter," the general responded, fixing Jack with an icy stare, "and I know those injuries weren't self-inflicted." To her credit, Carter did not blush, even as the general swept his hand in her direction. Jack realised then that he was in a difficult situation, if he had not done so before. His loyalties were effectively torn between two friends, and he was concerned for both of them. On top of that, Jack's guilt made it hard for him to say what had happened with Daniel, though he knew that the general already had suspicions. "Sir?" "Colonel?" "It's about Daniel, sir..." Jack began, "...but I need to know that you'll hear the whole story before you decide what to do..." Jack's voice trailed off a little uncertainly - as much as he was no stickler for rules and regulations, he knew that what he was about to say in relation to Daniel meant that there was a real possibility that Daniel might be permanently removed from the Stargate project, once the truth came out. "Begging your pardon, sir," Carter continued, jumping in, "you were the one who said we couldn't afford to lose Daniel's expertise, that he was too important to the project..." The general's glare transferred to Carter, softening slightly at the bruises currently showing black and purple on her face. "I did, captain," Hammond said, "so let's cut to the chase, shall we?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Daniel had been suffering from headaches, sir," Carter began. "For how long? And why is there no record of this on his medical file?" "If I may answer that, sir?" Jack replied. "Daniel has a thing about the infirmary, he's always said he spends too much time there." "I believe, sir," Carter took over from Jack, as smoothly as if they had rehearsed the changeover, "that these headaches are indicative of some kind of cranial trauma, which in its turn has led to the strange behaviours Daniel has been exhibiting." "Cranial trauma?" the general echoed uncertainly. "It's the only explanation, sir," Carter said firmly. "I'm no medical doctor, but I can't see what else could possibly have made Daniel act so out of character." "We've seen people behave strangely before, as the result of Goa'uld infestation..." Hammond said. "You know that's not possible," Jack blurted out. Both Carter and Hammond turned to look at him, and he felt for a moment that they had almost forgotten that he was even in the room. "I mean... hell, the doc examines us after every mission, we even have regular MRI's, and there was no mention of anything after our last mission." The general thought for a moment, before picking up the phone and dialling an extension. "Dr. Fraiser," he said, "this is Hammond. Do you have the results from SG4's last post-mission medical? Including Dr. Jackson? Oh, did he? Thank you, Doctor." Cradling the phone, Hammond turned back to the two officers. "It seems," he said, "that a cursory examination of Dr. Jackson after his mission with SG4 did not reveal any sign of Goa'uld infestation. However, no MRI was done - that was scheduled for after Dr. Jackson had changed his clothes, and we know what happened then." The general looked straight at Carter then, and this time she did redden slightly. "Do you want to tell us what happened, captain?" Hammond said quietly. "There's nothing to tell, sir," Carter said resolutely. "Those bruises aren't the result of nothing, captain," the general continued, still speaking in the same tone. "I understand your loyalty to your team-mate, and it does you credit, but there are some things that can't be covered up." "I agree, sir," Carter said, her jaw clenching slightly, "but if you want me to say that Daniel attacked me... I can't." "Can't or won't, captain?" Hammond prompted. "Can't," Carter replied. "I don't believe that Daniel had anything to do with my injuries, sir. Nothing anyone can say could persuade me otherwise." Although Carter had effectively confirmed Jack's suspicions of what had happened in the locker room, he felt a certain pride when he looked at his stubborn captain. Somehow, she was able to look the general straight in the eyes and refuse to answer his questions, but all in that terribly polite way she had. Just as effectively, Jack reflected, as if she had told Hammond to go to hell... It seemed that Hammond knew that he would get no further with the captain either - turning his attention to Jack then, Hammond began to question him about the incident in Daniel's office. Taking his cue from Carter's lead, Jack stressed his belief that Daniel was not responsible for what happened to him either. After a few minutes, Jack could almost see the frustration building up in the general, a frustration that was warring with the knowledge that the two of them would do anything within their power, anything short of an outright lie, to keep Daniel on the project with them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later, the phone rang. "I'm trying to get hold of a Jack O'Neill," said a voice Jack didn't recognise. "Speaking," said Jack. "Who is this, and how did you get this number?" "Mr O'Neill, I'm Sergeant Dawes of the Los Angeles Police Department. Do you know someone by the name of Daniel Jackson?" "Is he in some kind of trouble?" Jack asked, feelings of relief that he might find his friend warring with concern. "No, Mr O'Neill. He was admitted to L.A. County Hospital yesterday. We've been trying to find a next of kin for Mr Jackson, but yours was the only phone number he had on him. Do you know who his next of kin might be and how we could contact them?" said the voice, calm and professional. "Doctor Jackson has no close relatives, Sergeant," Jack replied. "Why do you need his next of kin? Has something happened to him?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three hours later, Jack was on a plane bound for Los Angeles. As he sat, outwardly relaxed, his mind ran through the conversation with the police, over and over again. Daniel had been found by the maid in a small hotel where he was staying, collapsed on the floor in the bathroom. She had called 911, and he had been taken to L.A. County, with a suspected aneurism. What the hell is going on, Daniel? First you start behaving like you're not the same person any more, like you don't care what anyone thinks of you, then you run off who knows where... It had taken all Jack's powers of persuasion to make this journey alone. Both Carter and Teal'c had all but demanded to accompany him, but somehow Jack felt that he needed to retrieve the errant anthropologist alone, and their demands had fallen on deaf ears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arriving at the front desk of the hospital, Jack was directed towards the ward where Daniel was being kept under observation. When he left the elevator, Jack could see a group of people, bunched near a doorway at the end of the hall, nurses and security guards mingling together. For some reason, an instinct he couldn't define made Jack head that way. Somehow he knew that was where he would find Daniel. As he neared the group of people, one of the security guards spotted him, and walked towards him, hand outstretched to stop his progress. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We have a situation here." "I'm looking for a friend of mine, Daniel Jackson," Jack said calmly. As he spoke Daniel's name, the security guard's eyes widened slightly. "He's involved in this situation, isn't he?" The security guard nodded. "I need to see him." "I'm sorry, sir. I don't think that's a good idea," replied the guard. "Why not?" "He has a gun. We're concerned that he might injure himself or someone else." "For crying out loud... I NEED TO GET IN THERE NOW!" Jack shouted. "J..Jack?" The voice, shaking with a mixture of emotions, came from the other side of the half-closed door. Looking back at the security guard, Jack just glared at him, as if to say See?, turned resolutely and walked into the room, pushing his way through the small knot of people gathered there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was like stepping back in time. Last time, it had been a small storage room, this time it was a hospital room, but the expression on Daniel's face was the same. In the half-light, coming through the blinds that covered the window, Jack could see the fear and shame warring for control of his friend. This time, just like the last, Daniel had a pistol. This time, like the last, Jack knew that what he said would be important, would decide if they would both leave this place alive. "Put the gun down, Daniel," Jack said quietly, trying to keep his voice calm and steady despite the fear he was feeling. "Whatever's going on, you know we can get through it..." "You... you don't understand, Jack..." Daniel panted. His hand, the hand holding the pistol, shook and Jack couldn't take his eyes from it. Not again, I've been through this before, Jack thought I can't lose someone else I care about that way, I can't... "The things I've done," Daniel continued, his voice shaking as much as his hand, "the terrible things I've said... to you, to Sam... How can I... how can you forgive me? This has to stop!" Taking a step forward, without thinking, Jack was startled with the speed with which his friend brought up the pistol, pressing the barrel of it against his throat. "Please..." "Not like this, Daniel," Jack pleaded, "you've done nothing so bad that this needs to happen. You don't know how worried I've been, not knowing where you were, if you were okay..." His voice ground to a halt, as he searched for the right words, the words that would make that expression on his friend's face go away. That mixture of fear, sadness and shame. "I don't deserve to live..." Daniel ground out the words, his face wet with tears as he sobbed, his hand shaking so much that Jack held his breath. For a moment, Jack was silent, searching frantically for the right thing to say - then it came to him, simply and clearly. "We need you Daniel. Don't leave us." Daniel's eyes opened wide at this statement, tears still running unheeded down his face. For the longest minute of his life, Jack couldn't tear his eyes away from the pistol, still pressed under Daniel's chin. He could almost see the blood flowing through the veins on Daniel's hand, he was almost mesmerised by the way it shook as his friend sobbed. Then the hand on which he was so closely focussed began to move, pulling the pistol away - his grip loosening, the pistol fell, leaving Daniel standing there, shaking. Without a further thought, Jack stepped forward - with the same movement, he kicked the gun away, and pulled Daniel towards him, wrapping his arms around his friend in mute forgiveness of both real and imagined wrongs. At first Daniel was still, standing stiffly, as if uncertain of Jack's intent, but after a moment, he sagged, arms wrapping round Jack's back, fists bunching in the material of his friend's jacket. "...head... it hurts, Jack," Daniel whispered. "I know. It's gonna be okay, Daniel. I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had taken all Jack's powers of persuasion to get Daniel to agree to the operation he needed, despite the pain that he was in. More than once, Jack had wished that Dr. Fraiser was there - she was used to dealing with the stubborn anthropologist, who spent more time in her infirmary than Jack was happy to think about. Janet would have made Daniel agree to the surgery in minutes flat, Jack was sure. Finally, as Jack was almost running out of threats that would work, Daniel had caved in. His face had turned an alarming shade of white and green, and he had admitted reluctantly to the latest in a long-running series of headaches. Jack had not been able to get Daniel to tell him when these headaches had started - this lack of information filled the colonel with unease, and a vague sense of guilt. Now Jack was pacing the waiting room near the operating theatre where his friend was. The doctors had assured him that it was a routine operation, to relieve the pressure on Daniel's brain which was causing the headaches, but still Jack was worried more than he liked to admit. As cautiously as he could, Jack had quizzed the doctors about whether this kind of injury could cause a person's behaviour to change. The doctors in their turn had pressed for details, for examples, all of which Jack had been unable or unwilling to give them. How could he explain what Daniel had done? After all, as far as what Jack suspected had happened between Daniel and Carter, the doctors had a responsibility to report it to the relevant authorities. As for Teal'c - Jack knew that once Daniel remembered the events that had occurred on their last mission, he would be wracked with guilt. He had phoned the SGC, fending off the anxious enquiries of his team-mates with the most confident statements he could make concerning Daniel and his prognosis for recovery. In the end, Jack had been forced into persuading Carter to take over the arrangements for Daniel to be transported back to the infirmary once he was well enough to travel. Somehow, even down the telephone line, Jack had sensed that the captain needed to be doing something, keeping occupied while she waited for Daniel to come back. The anxious tone in the general's voice, and in Janet's too, had been there clearly for Jack's benefit as much as it had been for Daniel. Both knew how worried Jack had been about his missing friend, and how much they cared for Daniel themselves, despite the professional facade they might put up. Somehow Daniel had this ability, which Jack couldn't quite categorise, to enable himself to become a concern for otherwise hardened and cynical professionals, people with whom he seemed to have very little in common. People like Jack himself. Jack had assured them that they both were fine, but he knew that when they returned, Daniel would be answering some difficult questions about his actions. How did we miss it? Jack thought furiously, as he paced. Something was wrong, Daniel was different somehow, and none of us noticed. Jack froze, all thoughts momentarily forgotten, as a doctor came through from the operating theatre. As if sensing Jack's gaze, the doctor glanced at Jack and smiled reassuringly in his direction, as she headed out of the waiting room and down the hall. Jack let out the breath he had been holding, certain that this time Daniel's luck had run out. What kind of friends are we? he thought, resuming his measuring of the waiting room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daniel looked up from the book he was studying - when he saw the identity of his visitor, he blushed furiously, his face turning a startling shade against the whiteness of the bandages that surrounded his head. Dropping his eyes as he dropped his book onto the bed cover, Daniel's hands twisted together in his lap, then moved to grip the edge of the blanket. "Hi, Daniel," Carter said quietly. "I'm glad you're back with us." "I... Sam, I..." Swallowing, Daniel stuttered to a halt almost before he had begun to speak. "I didn't expect to see you here." Daniel's voice was quiet, but shook with the emotions he was trying to control. Even from where she was standing by the doorway, Carter could see the tears as they rolled slowly down Daniel's cheeks, even though his eyes were still focussed on his hands. Silence filled the room, washing over the two people there, expanding outwards until even the routine sounds of the SGC began to fade into the distance. "I'm going to quit, Sam," Daniel said. "I can't stay here, not after this. How could I expect anyone to trust me again? How could you ever trust me again?" All this time, Carter had been standing by the door to Daniel's private room, her hand still on the door handle. Silently, she stepped forward into the room, closing the door quietly behind her, and moved to occupy the single chair standing beside Daniel's bed. "How can you even bear to be in the same room as me?" Daniel sobbed, still looking down. "Daniel. Look at me." Swallowing a further sob, Daniel reluctantly looked up, not knowing what to expect. "Your face, oh god, Sam..." Daniel blurted out, his eyes falling to his lap again. Carter reached forward quietly and grabbed Daniel's chin with her hand, gently forcing him to look at her. "They're just bruises, Daniel. Hell, I had worse in basic training," Carter said calmly, her eyes still locked with those of her friend. "You weren't yourself, Daniel, I know that. Once I started to get over how angry I was with you, I realised that." "But I nearly..." Daniel choked on the words, and tried to pull away from the grip Carter still had on his chin. "The key word there, Daniel, is nearly. You stopped, it didn't happen, that's what matters. That and the fact that I do still trust you." Daniel's eyes still brimmed with tears, as he continued to look at Carter. After a few moments, she let go of his chin, and his head dropped again, shoulders still shaking. "Remember when we went to P3X797, Daniel?" Carter asked quietly. Stunned by this apparent change of tack, Daniel glanced up uncertainly at Carter. He nodded slightly, looking at her with an expression on his face made up of curiosity and shame. "After I was taken ill, Jack attacked you in the control room. Did you blame him for that? Did you hate him for attacking you?" Suddenly it all became clear to Daniel. Where his friend was going with this argument, and that he was trapped, wrapped up in a logical premise with no way to escape. "He was ill," Daniel agreed grudgingly, "he didn't know what he was doing..." "And that's different from what happened in the locker room?" Carter pushed, unwilling to let Daniel off the hook. "I... I guess not," Daniel finally conceded, after a moment's thought. "Don't leave us, Daniel," Carter said, getting up from the chair, speaking in an unconscious echo of Jack's words at the hospital. "We're in this together." As she turned to leave, Carter hesitated, as if she wanted to add something else, before leaning forward and kissing Daniel lightly on the forehead. Smiling at her stunned friend, she left him alone with his thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Daniel Jackson." The voice was deep, pulling Daniel back from where he was drowsing, half-asleep. He woke to the realisation of someone standing over him - someone large and fierce looking. "T...Teal'c..." he stuttered, feeling the need to back away, disturbed by the emotions that were clear in the Jaffa's eyes. "I was injured on our last mission, Daniel Jackson," the voice continued as Daniel squirmed, "and the fault was yours." Daniel forced himself to look up, to look into Teal'c's eyes and face the accusation that was written so clearly there. The guilt that Daniel was feeling reflected back at him, the contempt of a warrior, the betrayal of trust. He found himself unable to speak, unable to think of anything to say that would make even the tiniest impact on what was piled up against him. "The fault was yours," the voice repeated, growing louder. Suddenly, Daniel couldn't breathe, as a hand wrapped itself round his throat. Teal'c's face was there, huge in front of Daniel's terrified eyes, his hand choking the life out of the man who had betrayed him, had let him down so badly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Daniel Jackson." That voice again. Daniel woke with a shudder, hands reaching up instantly to clutch and pull away from a grip that was not there. Teal'c was there, and this time his eyes were full of concern, not scorn. "Are you well?" the deep voice enquired. "Should I call for Dr. Fraiser?" "No, Teal'c," Daniel whispered, his voice shaking despite his efforts to control it, "it's just a panic attack, I'll be fine." The Jaffa stood, at the foot of Daniel's bed, eyeing him with his head tilted slightly to one side, as if he wanted to ask further but chose not to. It was just a dream, Daniel told himself, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, Teal'c would never react that way. Daniel glanced up at where Teal'c stood, realising that none of the emotions he had ascribed to Teal'c in his nightmare were there in reality. The Jaffa looked concerned for him, but there was no sense of betrayal evident in Teal'c's expressive eyes. "Teal'c..." Daniel began, needing to clear the air, "...I'm sorry. About what happened." Teal'c did not reply. Okay, this isn't working, Daniel thought, maybe I need to grovel more? "It was my fault you were injured, Teal'c," Daniel continued, "and I can't begin to tell you how that makes me feel." Still no reply. What the hell? Daniel wondered, his mind now working furiously. "Daniel Jackson," Teal'c spoke finally, his voice calm and assured as ever, "you are afraid of me." A statement, not a question, spoken in a voice that brooked no argument. "I...," Daniel stuttered slightly, looking for the words to deny the truth behind his friend's statement. "I suppose so..." he conceded finally. "You are my friend, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said simply, as if that was all he needed to say, as if the rest was obvious and natural to anyone who cared to think about it. Daniel was swept with a sense of relief, a feeling that he had thought lost to him. It might all work out after all, he might not have damaged the friendships which were so important to him. Somewhere out there might still be forgiveness. "It was just a dream, Teal'c," Daniel said, looking up again at where his friend was still stood, "a dream brought about by my feelings of guilt towards you. I was responsible for you being hurt and now I have to live with that, regardless of how you feel about what happened." "There is guilt on both sides, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c replied. "You feel that you are at fault for the wound I received. You are my friend, you were unwell, and I did not help you." Daniel just shook his head. Somehow, once again, Teal'c had managed to shoulder the blame, as he always did. Once again, he had shown that, despite the terrible things he had done in his past, the Jaffa was able to forgive the wrongs done to him and move on. I hope one day I can be that strong, Daniel thought, and deserve that kind of mercy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You knew." Daniel's voice was flat - not questioning, not accusing, almost toneless. "Daniel?" "All the time - you knew what I did, what I almost did, and you were calm!" As Daniel spoke, his voice gained volume, and emotion, until finally he was yelling. "HOW COULD YOU BE CALM, JACK?" "I meant what I said to you in the hospital, Daniel," Jack said, from where he was sitting on Daniel's couch, watching his friend pace the living room carpet. "We can get through all of this." "What if I don't want to get through this? Had you thought of that when you planned out the rest of my life?" Daniel snarled, his eyes locking on Jack's. "What if I can't get through this?" "So what are you saying? That you're going to run away again? Stick your head in the sand and hope if you ignore it, everything will go away? It won't - we won't." Jack paused, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "Take it from one who knows, Daniel, repression is not your kind of thing." Daniel stopped pacing, looking exhausted. "Sit down, before you fall down," Jack ordered, pointing at a nearby chair. "Or do I have to call Janet and tell her you aren't following doctor's orders?" For once, Daniel did not argue, dropping into the chair in question as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. He slumped there, his head in his hands. His questing fingers found the bandages that were still round his head, still working as if to drag an answer from his over-tired brain. "We take one day at a time, Daniel," Jack said, "that's all we can do. Hell, that's all most people do, when it hurts too much to look any further..." Daniel did not look up, but his fingers stilled, and Jack knew that his friend, even though lost for words, was at least listening. "I can't promise you that it'll be easy," Jack continued, "take it from one who knows. When you've had terrible things happen around you, whether you're really responsible for them or not, then you can't forget them. You can't act like all of this never happened Daniel, but you can't let it destroy you either, you're too important to us." Jack stood then, picking up his jacket from where he had thrown it over the back of the couch. "Get some sleep, Daniel," Jack said, as he was leaving. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
~fin~
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