Bearing Witness8
Solving Riddles
By
Annie
"Hey, I hear you're ready to go."
Daniel looked up and gave a half-shrug, half-nod in Jack's direction. "Sure. whenever."
Walking across to sit down next to him, Jack turned the walk into sauntering, lending it a casualness as if it was every day he went to a kid's birthday party to pick up his thirty five year old best friend.
"So…" he said, sitting down, managing to make the arm around Daniel's shoulders seem part of the everyday, casual thing. "You've only been here an hour. Sure you want to go already?"
Daniel tilted his head back, gave him a 'well, d'oh' look. "They're all kids, "he whispered.
"Well, d'oh," Jack said. "It's Cassie's birthday party. Doubt she would have wanted to invite a bunch of adults."
"So why did she invite me?" Daniel asked and Jack cringed.
He should have thought about it more, should have realized what being invited to Cassie's birthday party, not as Dr Daniel Jackson, Cassie's much-loved surrogate uncle, but as Danny Jackson, recently downsized archeologist, would do to his friend's self esteem. "Sorry," he murmured, pulling Daniel in for a quick hug. "I just thought you'd have fun, you know? Like you did when we went to Cascade and you played in Rosie's backyard. You even asked to stop there on the way home."
Daniel surprised him by twisting out of the embrace and climbing onto his lap instead, his back resting against Jack's chest. He picked up Jack's arms and wrapped first one then the other around his middle, leaning his head back to rest on Jack's shoulder. "That was different," he said finally.
"How was it different?' Jack asked. "Hey, I'm trying to understand here, buddy," he prodded when Daniel didn't reply.
"Me too," said Daniel in a tone so sad that Jack felt his own heart sink in empathy.
He jiggled Daniel on his lap. "Try," he said finally.
"I want to do kid stuff when I want to do it," Daniel replied. "I didn't really want to at first when we were at Rosie's but then I thought, 'It's just me and Jack here' and I just did it and it was fun and I liked it."
"Yeah," Jack said slowly, wanting to understand but not sure he did yet.
"But tonight I didn't want to do kid stuff. I wanted to stay home with you and work on the translation from 723."
"Oh." Jack felt understanding bloom in his mind. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you come."
Daniel moved Jack's arms away so he could wriggle round and sit sideways, his small legs dangling down over Jack's thighs, one arm wrapping around Jack's neck to anchor him in place. "If it had been like Sam's birthday party, you know, when we had the big barbecue for her at General Hammond's place, or yours last year, I wouldn't have minded. They were parties for adults, and the fact there were kids there as well was incidental."
Jack raised a hand and stroked it hesitantly over Daniel's small head, doing it again when no objection was voiced. "And you would have come willingly tonight and probably had a good time if you'd been in the mood to be a kid," he said, sure he was on the right track now.
Daniel tilted his head back to smile up into Jack's face. "Yeah."
"You mean I got it?"
Daniel nodded fervently. "You got it."
"Wow. So, you want to head home now, work on your translations?"
"I'm worried Cassie will be upset if I leave in the middle of the party."
"Yeah, probably." Jack pondered the dilemma. "What if I say you've been called back to the SGC on some urgent business that has to be taken care of tonight?"
Daniel slid down off his lap. "Think that'll fly?" he asked.
"Watch a master obfuscator at work," Jack replied, standing up and leading the way inside.
oOo
It had been the right thing to do, Jack decided, peering round the door of the study and watching Daniel, perched on his knees on his booster seat, hard at work.
The boy looked intently at the image on the monitor, muttered something incomprehensible in some foreign language Jack didn't understand, then picked up the large pencil next to his book. Slowly, laboriously, he made notes in the double-spaced notebook, sighing as he scribbled something out and then wrote again, even more carefully this time.
The fact that this small Daniel's motor skills lagged behind his lightening-quick adult brain frustrated the small archeologist immensely, Jack knew. Daniel had tried using his favorite gel pens to make his notes when he'd first been downsized but his smaller fingers found the pens hard to grip, sending pen and writing skittering across the page. One day, Jack had simply left a child's pencil next to Daniel's laptop and he'd been using the implement with increasing surety ever since. The notepads he'd been used to were sidelined too, their narrow spacing too small for Daniel's now-large cursive print. Jack had simply picked up several of the double-spaced ones on one of his grocery trips and now they sat waiting to be used in front of the discarded coffee can that served as Daniel's pencil holder.
Daniel looked over his shoulder at Jack and waved him in. "I'm just about done," he announced, sitting back on his haunches, an air of satisfaction evident. "Boy, is Major Bowles in for a surprise when he finds out what he found."
Jack sat down in the chair opposite the desk. "Which is?" he asked, imbuing his voice with the right amount of expectation.
There'd been times in the past when he would have "yadda-yadda-yaddaed" Daniel going on about his work but these days Jack took the time to really listen to what Daniel wanted to tell him. Time was too short to ignore friends, he'd learned. They had a way of dying on you, or being downsized, making you wish you'd just taken the time to listen to them before it was too late.
Daniel grinned at him, plonking the pencil back in its holder and slapping the book closed triumphantly. "It's a civic map," he said. He turned the monitor so Jack could see and began pointing out symbols and words, translating as he went. "See, this is where the public baths were," he said, " and this one tells you where Golfric the headman could be found."
"So it's not of much use to us strategically?" Jack asked.
"Well, no, the town doesn't exist anymore." Daniel climbed down off the booster and walked around to Jack's side, standing with one arm resting on Jack's leg. "But, it does tell us quite a bit about the people who lived there and how they became extinct."
"Well, that's important, right?" Jack asked. He grinned as Daniel pretended to fall into a faint. "Hey, I'm learning that life isn't all about fighting the Goa'uld."
Daniel used Jack's knee to pull himself up off the floor. "Yes, you are," he said seriously. "You know why this is important, Jack?"
"Tell me."
"Because the more you stop and listen, the more you learn."
Jack nodded. "You got that right, buddy." He stood up, waited till Daniel saved his work and powered down the laptop then led the way out to the kitchen. "So, what do you want for dinner? I was thinking of barbecuing some steaks."
"Maybe. I'm not all that hungry." Daniel walked in front of him and stopped by the table, a hand rubbing absently at his eyes.
"Hey." Jack crouched in front of him and took Daniel's chin in one hand, looking into his eyes. They did look a little red, he decided. "You okay?" he asked.
Daniel nodded, stretched, and yawned. "Yeah, I am kinda tired. I might go watch TV on the couch while you're getting dinner, if that's okay."
Jack stood up, surreptitiously passed the back of his hand over Daniel's forehead in a temperature check and found it feeling what he thought was normal… a little clammy maybe. "Sure, go ahead. Yell when The Simpsons starts, though. The steaks can wait. I'll make the salad first."
oOo
"I think I'm sick."
Jack rolled onto his back, squinting up through the near darkness of his bedroom. "Define sick exactly," he said around a yawn.
"Sick… icky-"
"Icky?" Jack sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached out a hand to pull Daniel closer. "Okay, icky coming from you sounds like a problem. Icky where?"
Daniel sighed, climbed onto the bed and lay down, his head resting on the pillow next to Jack's. "I don't know. Everywhere. Can I sleep in here?"
"In here?" Jack's worry nudged up a notch. Except for when they were in Las Vegas, Daniel had never slept in his bed. He reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp.
Daniel's cheeks were flushed bright red, his skin looking dry and tight. "I'm thirsty," he said plaintively, his tongue licking at dry lips. "Can you get me some juice?"
Jack placed a hand on his forehead. Hot enough to call Fraiser, he decided. "Sure," he agreed. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes." Detouring to the bathroom on his way, he dampened a washcloth and took it back to Daniel, placing on the boy's forehead. "Keep it there," he warned as Daniel winced and grabbed for it. "We need to start cooling you down."
"Juice," Daniel murmured.
"Coming right up," Jack agreed. He leaned across the bed and patted Daniel's shoulder comfortingly. "Hang in there, okay, buddy?"
"Okay," Daniel whispered. "I'm sick, aren't I?"
"Yep… well, just a bit. Might be something you ate at the party," Jack replied reassuringly. He watched as Daniel closed his eyes then headed at a trot down to the kitchen.
Picking up the phone he dialed Janet's home number then hooked the phone between his shoulder and chin while he pulled out juice from the fridge, a plastic cup from the cupboard and the thermometer and Children's Tylenol from the first aid box. "Answer, dammit," he muttered as he slopped juice into the cup, watching, uncaring, as it overflowed the container and dripped over the counter top and onto the floor.
"Daniel's sick. He wants to sleep in my bed," he barked at Fraiser's mumbled hello.
"Colonel, 'zat you?" Fraiser's voice sounded muddy and sleep-blurred and Jack had a momentary twinge of guilt, remembering the woman had just hosted a party for twenty raucous youngsters and had probably not long been asleep.
"Yeah, sorry, Doc. Look, he said he feels icky."
"What's his temp?" Fraiser asked, sounding more alert now.
Jack looked down at the thermometer he still held in his hand. Yeah, probably would have been a good idea to have used that before calling the doc. "Um, I don't know. He feels hot."
"Maybe he just overate at the party," Fraiser replied, sighing. "Colonel, listen, I know you worry but Daniel's probably fine. He was upset when you left the party and maybe he just needs some comfort right now and this is his way of asking for it without saying so directly."
Jack nodded at the phone, sighed himself. "Yeah, you might be right. Daniel's always a little embarrassed to admit he just needs to be close to someone, especially these days."
"Tell you what," Janet said, "take his temperature and if it's over 102, call me back and we'll go from there. If it's not, then let him sleep with you. You won't be breaking any important rules by giving in to him."
Jack felt the tension unwinding from his gut. "Thanks, Doc. Sorry to wake you. I'll let you know."
"No problem, sir. Goodnight."
By the time he made it back to the bedroom, Daniel was asleep, head on Jack's pillow, his cheeks still flushed. Jack looked at the thermometer then placed it on the bedside table. He touched Daniel's forehead gently, lifting the damp washcloth from where it had fallen askew over one eye. Warm still but maybe not as much as before. Daniel sighed and turned onto his belly and Jack put the medicine and juice down on the table, flipped off the light and crawled in beside the child, careful not to wake him. Best to let sleeping archeologists lie, he decided, closing his eyes and letting sleep overtake him.
oOo
The bed was moving, rhythmically beneath Jack's body. "Daniel, knock it off," he grunted, his eyes still closed, sleep wanting to pull him back under.
Daniel made a moaning, choking kind of sound and Jack was instantly awake, one hand going out unerringly to flick on the light next to the bed. "Oh Christ!"
Daniel was on his back in the bed next to him, his small body wracked with convulsions. His eyes were rolled up so far into his head that only the whites showed. Bloody foam dribbled from between his clenched teeth, highlighting the bluish coloration of his lips.
Jack was on his knees next to him in a heartbeat, rolling him onto his side, the stiffness of Daniel's body making the maneuver more difficult than it should have been. "Jesus," Jack whispered, his word as much a prayer as a curse, as he reached out with his free hand for the phone. He'd just managed to hook it into his grasp when Daniel's body relaxed under his hand.
"Thank God." Jack kept his hand on Daniel's hip, keeping the boy on his side as he placed the phone handset down on the bed, keeping it in place between his knees as he punched in the speed dial code for Fraiser.
"Daniel's had a seizure," he said tersely as soon as he heard her voice. "Get an ambulance here for me."
Hearing her suddenly alert voice give him confirmation, he tossed the phone onto the end of the bed and leaned over Daniel, wiping the blood away with the corner of the sheet. Then, not knowing what else to do, he pulled him into his arms and held him in a loose embrace, his head bent close to Daniel's ear. "Hang in there, Daniel," he murmured. "It's okay. You'll be okay."
He rocked Daniel back and forth as he waited, the age-old rhythm giving him some sort of comfort. When the ambulance arrived, he handed Daniel over to the paramedics reluctantly.
"Colonel, I want you to ride in with me."
Looking to where the voice had come from, he saw Carter at his elbow, her face white, her eyes wide with shock as they watched the gurney being wheeled from the house out to the waiting ambulance. Janet Fraiser was walking alongside it, her hand on Daniel's face, holding an oxygen mask in place.
"I want to go with Daniel," Jack replied firmly, already moving out from under the grip of her hand on his arm.
"There won't be room, sir," Carter said. "They can take better care of him if you're not in the way."
He looked at her, prepared to argue and saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. He gripped her hand tightly, gave it a squeeze. "Okay," he agreed, "but you stay right behind that ambulance, Carter. I don't want to take a chance on him waking up without me there."
She swallowed visibly, wiped a hand across her cheeks and smiled faintly at him. "They used to call me Speedy in Driver's Ed in high school," she said, ushering him forward, out to her car. "I'll get you there."
oOo
The waiting room seemed smaller than he remembered. Jack paced exactly nine and a half steps to the far wall then nine and a half back, turned and repeated the journey.
Sam was sitting in a chair nearest the door to the infirmary, one hand clenched tightly around a wadded-up tissue, her eyes red-rimmed. She looked up at him and gave him a tremulous smile each time he passed her but didn't speak.
Teal'c stood, stolid and… Teal'c-like next to Sam's chair, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked, Jack thought, like he was on sentry duty, guarding the entry to the infirmary, his stance suggesting that even if Death came knocking, he wouldn't get through Teal'c.
A hand grabbed his arm as he turned for another walk back and he looked down in surprise. Fraiser smiled up at him, looking as exhausted as he'd ever seen her. Hope blossomed at her smile. "He's okay?" he asked.
"Let's sit down," she said, leading him over to the chair next to Sam's.
He refused to sit, waiting till she sank down into it before asking again, "He's okay?"
She sighed, rubbed a slightly shaky hand over tired eyes then nodded. "For now, at least. We stopped the seizures and his fever's down a little…"
"But?" he asked, both wanting and not wanting to hear the rest of it.
"But his blood work doesn't look good. He's got a systemic infection that looks like it's secondary to measles. He's already showing the rash but he's far sicker than he should be for measles."
"Measles?" Jack shook his head. "Where the heck would he have caught that from?" He stopped, seeing her nod her head slowly.
"Apparently one of the kids at Cassie's party has a younger brother who has it. The child at the party doesn't but is obviously a carrier. Sir, he shouldn't have gotten this sick so quickly."
"What about his blood work?" Carter spoke up almost hesitantly.
"His white cells are way high, but they're not fighting the infection. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has leukemia."
"What?" Jack felt as if he'd been gut-punched.
"What is leukemia?" Teal'c asked.
"It's a form of cancer that affects the blood cells," Janet replied. "It's not always fatal but it can be." She cast a stricken look up at Jack. "Sir, this isn't my field. We can call in some pediatric oncology specialists—"
"Do it," Jack said, his voice suddenly husky. "Can I see him, sit with him?"
"Of course. He's pretty sleepy from the meds but I'm sure he'll know you're there."
"Tell him we're thinking of him and we'll be into visit as soon as we can," Sam said, standing up.
"We need to keep visitors to a minimum for now," Janet replied, patting Sam's hand reassuringly. "Sir, we've got Daniel in an iso-unit. You'll have to wear a mask and gown."
Jack nodded his understanding then sketched a wave at Carter and Teal'c. "I'll tell him his team's waiting for him," he said, pushing open the infirmary doors.
The child in the bed looked far smaller than Daniel had before. His face and arms were covered in a faint pink rash; his lips were cracked and sore looking. Jack reached out a gloved hand, surprised at the heat that emanated from Daniel's forehead. "I thought you said his fever was down," he said to Fraiser.
"It is, compared to how high it was when he came in. Not enough for me to be truly comfortable but we've got him on anti-seizure medication and we'll keep giving him Tylenol suppositories…"
Jack winced at that and Janet patted his shoulder. "He can't really feel it," she said soothingly.
"So what do we do now?" Jack asked.
"Wait until we can get a specialist here to look at him," Janet replied. "I've done all I can at this juncture." She lowered her voice even more. "Sir, we do have to be prepared for the fact that even with specialist care-"
Jack shook his head, his hand wrapping around Daniel's small one and clasping tightly as if sheer will could keep the child with him. "He's not going to die," he whispered back harshly. "Even for leukemia they have treatments nowadays. Kids don't just die of it anymore."
"No, they don't," Janet said, "but the treatments can be pretty devastating and unpleasant and Daniel's already very weak. I just don't know if he has the stamina-"
"Stamina? Daniel's got stamina in spades, adult or kid." He leaned forward as Daniel stirred, stroking a soothing hand across the hot forehead. "It's okay, Daniel, I'm here."
The boy's eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded with fatigue and red from the disease. "My eyes hurt," he said haltingly.
Janet turned to the light switch and turned it down. "Is that better? You're supposed to be asleep," she added, patting Daniel's hand gently.
"Am I going to die?" Daniel asked shakily.
"No," Jack replied firmly, "not for a long time. You're going to be fine. You just need to get lots of rest and take some special medicine-"
"What's wrong with me?"
"You've got the measles, that's all," Jack said, still rubbing his hand across Daniel's forehead. "Lots of kids get them. You didn't die when you had them the first time you were a kid, did you?"
"Didn't have them," Daniel murmured, eyelids drooping again.
"Well, that was probably because you were immunized," Janet said brightly, "and even though that was a while ago, that immunity will still help to stop you from getting too sick. Um, sir, could I have a word with you outside?"
Jack stood up, leaned forward to place a kiss on Daniel's hair then followed her from the room.
"What?" Jack faced the diminutive doctor and glared into her eyes as if his anger could make her tell him that Daniel would be just fine.
"If Daniel was immunized, and if he never had measles as a child, there's no explanation for why he's this sick. The immunization should have lessened the impact of the disease. He shouldn't be this bad." Janet looked up at him, her eyes filled with soft compassion, "I'm sorry, sir, but there is a very real chance that he could-"
"He's not going to die," Jack said firmly, "not on my watch."
"Sir," Janet placed a small hand on his arm but he pulled away, pushing back through the doors to the infirmary where he went through the hand washing and the gowning up again then went in to stand next to Daniel's bed.
Daniel was still awake, though his eyes looked bruised with fatigue.
"You should be sleeping," Jack said huskily, his throat feeling tight and dry.
Daniel lifted the hand that wasn't encumbered by the IV and Jack grasped it gently in his, curling his fingers over the back of it.
"I'm really sick, aren't I?" Daniel said, sounding more child-like than Jack could ever remember hearing him.
"Yes, you are," Jack replied honestly, "but we have great doctors here at the SGC and they can call in specialists from anywhere in the world to make you better."
"Can you get my wallet for me?"
"You won't be doing any shopping for a while, buddy," Jack said, smiling a little.
"No, I know, there's a card in there. Remember that doctor I met in Colorado Springs that day I ran away. Dr. House… Greg. He specializes in unusual diseases. He told me."
Jack nodded. "I remember. He'd have to get security clearance-"
"We'll get it for him."
Jack looked around to see General Hammond, gowned and masked, standing at the foot of the bed, his big hand resting on Daniel's blanket-covered foot, caressing gently.
"Sir?"
"Whatever it takes, whomever it takes," Hammond said and Jack could see the concern in his eyes. "You tell me who you need here and I'll speak to the President."
"Thank you, sir." Jack looked down at Daniel to see the boy was almost asleep again. He withdrew his hand from Daniel's. "I'll go get the card," he said.
"Hurry back," Daniel said, his voice edged with something like panic.
"I will. Get some sleep and I'll be back the next time you open your eyes."
oOo
"Dr. House, I presume?"
Gregory House looked up from the Gameboy where he'd been on the verge of actually winning a game of Technobot and glowered at the man standing in the doorway. "Clinic hours are over," he said shortly. "Go out to the desk and ask the receptionist for another doctor." He raised a hand as the man started to speak. "if you're about to tell me it's an emergency, go to the Emergency Room downstairs. There's a very good reason why they named it that. Yes!" he slapped his hand down on the desk in triumph as he saw his score.
"Technobot? I could never master that."
House looked up to find the man standing looking over his shoulder. "Do you mind?" he asked pointedly. "Look, if it's a Gameboy you're after go down to the Pediatric Ward. That's where I stole mine from. Any of the kids give you a hard time, tell them House sent you and I've got a selection of big, pointy needles for anyone who won't give up his Gameboy without a fight."
He sighed as the man didn't move. "Fine, have it your own way but if Cuddy catches you in here once I'm gone, you'll be doing clinic hours four days a week for the rest of your natural life." He stood up, tucked the Gameboy into his drawer and locked it then picked up his cane and hobbled over to grab his jacket. "Last chance to escape Cuddy," he warned as he opened the door.
"Oh good, Colonel, you found him."
House shivered theatrically as Cuddy hove into view, a bewildered looking Wilson bringing up the rear. "Damn! Two minutes." He glared at the interloper. "If you hadn't shown up I'd have been gone before she got here."
"Dr. House, this is Colonel O'Neill of the United States Air Force. He needs your help." Cuddy sounded impressed and House gave the guy another look-over. He shrugged. Knowing Cuddy she was probably imagining what the Colonel looked like in and out of a uniform, which was all fine and dandy. If Cuddy wanted to cuddle up with the USAF he wasn't going to stop her. "Yeah, cool. Nice to meet you. I'm going home now. I have a date with a steak and a beer."
"Dr. House, I need you to come to my office-"
House shouldered past her and nudged Wilson on his way through. "Gone over to the dark side, Wilson," he muttered sotto voce.
"What? No, the Colonel asked for me too," Wilson replied, sounding even more confused than he looked.
"The Air Force so short of doctors, they're rounding them up in pairs now? Like Mormons," House asked, turning and raising an eyebrow at the Colonel. "Look, if it's all the same to you, we can talk here. I'm never too sure I'll make it out alive if I enter the Dragon Queen's cave so…"
"All right," the Colonel said. "I'm Jack O'Neill. A few months ago you met a little boy in Colorado Springs-"
"Daniel," House said immediately. "He's a good kid, even paid me back the money I lent him, with interest."
"He's sick," O'Neill said and now House could see the worry in the man's eyes, the faint tremor in his hands. "Really sick. Our doc said he could die. He's scared. He asked me to come get you. Dr. Cuddy mentioned that Dr. Wilson is an oncology specialist and I remembered that's one of the kinds of specialists our doc said Daniel needed. So, I'm asking you both if you'll come to Cheyenne Mountain and try to help him."
"The kid asked for me?" House nodded when Jack said yes. "All right, you should have just said that in the first place instead of getting the Dragon Queen on my case. Wilson, go pack a bag, will you? We're going to Colorado."
oOo
House leaned heavily on his cane as he and Wilson were led into the elevator at the Cheyenne Mountain base. Despite the fact that they'd flown to Colorado on a high-speed jet, the trip had still entailed him sitting jammed in a narrow airline seat for longer than his bad leg liked and he was paying for it now. He pulled the ever-present bottle from his pocket and flipped the lid, tipping two of the potent little pills into his mouth and crunching them up. "Medicine," he said when he saw O'Neill watching him.
"You're the doctor," O'Neill replied, shrugging.
"Oh, I don't self-prescribe," House said with a shocked expression. "That would be unethical." He hooked a thumb at Wilson. "James here lets me have as many as I want though."
"That's not true!" Wilson pushed himself away from the wall and glared at House then looked at O'Neill. "Colonel, I only prescribe him the recommended dosage-"
"It's fine," O'Neill replied, reaching out to press a button. "Daniel trusts him. I'll back his judgment any day. We're heading down a long way," he warned. He nodded toward House's leg. "You might want to hang on. This thing moves pretty quick."
House shrugged nonchalantly. He'd ridden motorcycles after all but the sudden downward jolt and rapidly escalating speed startled him anyway and he took a grip on the railing and watched in stunned surprise as the numbers on the wall flipped down quickly. "Jesus, what is this place? The doorway to Hell?"
"It can seem that way sometimes," O'Neill said obscurely, leading them out of the car when it bumped to an eventual halt.
"What you said about backing Daniel's judgment, it hasn't always been that way, has it?" House didn't sound accusatory but Jack felt the burn of shame nonetheless.
"No." He shook his head. "Let's just say I learned the error of my ways when I lost him one time too many."
"Well, let's make sure you don't lose him one more time," House said. He looked around as they walked up the hallway. "Guess you're still not going to tell me what this place is, right?"
"Maybe. If it's the only way you can help Daniel," Jack replied, ushering Wilson and House in through the doors of the infirmary.
"Ah," House replied. "A reply worthy of a politician. Well then, let's get work then, James, shall we?"
Wilson nodded agreement as they were led into the gowning up room for the Iso unit.
"Hey there, Daniel, remember me?" House laid a gentle gloved hand on the child's forehead. He smiled when Daniel opened his eyes. "Hi," he said.
"Greg," Daniel whispered. "You came. I told Jack you would."
"Well, of course I came." House sat down on the chair next to Daniel's bed. "It's not every day I get given a trip on a chilly Air Force transport plane to visit the doorway to Hell." He grinned, tapping Daniel's nose with his finger. "Silly boy. Of course I came. You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?"
Daniel nodded. "Yep. I'm sick," he added.
"I can see that. How about we make you better?" House pointed up at Wilson. "I brought a friend. This is Jimmy."
"Hi, Jimmy."
Wilson snorted at the diminutive but shook Daniel's small hand firmly. "I'm glad to meet you, Daniel. I work with lots of people who have similar illnesses to you and I'm going to work with Dr. House to try to make you better."
"Okay." Daniel yawned. "Ouch. My throat hurts. Can you fix that first? Then my eyes or maybe stop me itching. I don't like itching." His eyes drooped closed and he fell asleep.
House stood up and pulled the sheet up over Daniel's chest. "Let me see his file. There's more going on here than measles."
Wilson nodded. "I agree." He leafed through Daniel's chart. "His bloodwork makes no sense. According to this he's got no immunity at all but the rest of the results don't tally with leukemia or any of the other autoimmune diseases."
House shrugged. "I think it's time we took Colonel O'Neill up on his offer of full disclosure, don't you?"
oOo
"You're kidding me?" Wilson sounded stunned and quite frankly Jack didn't blame him. To hear what he'd just told these two men of science would have had most people reaching for the phone to put in a call to the funny farm. He let the seriousness of his expression speak for him. "No, I'm not," he said finally.
"Daniel's really an adult who was accidentally shrunk by some alien device on another planet?" Wilson seemed to feel that repeating it aloud would somehow make it more credible. Jack remembered that feeling from when he'd first joined the SGC and so just gave him a nod and a empathetic smile.
"Okay," House said. "What's this got to do with what's wrong with him?"
"What?" Wilson shot him a look filled with disbelief. "You just stood here and heard what I heard and that's all you've got to say?"
House shrugged. "In that room is a kid who's going to die if we don't figure this out."
"And you couldn't handle it if we couldn't figure it out, could you?" Wilson asked. "Not many cases you haven't figured out eventually."
"Look, I don't like kids much. Never have. They're mostly snotty, whiny little brats who ask for stuff all the time and never know when to shut up." House looked at Jack. "I want to find a way to help Daniel."
"For your solve rate?" Jack asked.
"Wouldn't hurt my reputation any to solve something as bizarre as this," House admitted. "However, I get the feeling I'm not going to be allowed to publish this in a medical journal, am I?"
Jack shook his head. "No."
"Then let's just put it down to the fact that I want to solve this case because there's someone involved I consider a friend and he's someone I'd like to see walk out of that room healthy, all right?"
Wilson grinned. "I knew there was a human being in there somewhere."
"Yeah, well, as soon as Daniel's better, it'll be buried again, so make the most of it," House grunted. "Let's get to work. We'll need as much data as you have on how Daniel was downsized, any information on the mechanism used, all right?"
Jack picked up the folder he'd placed on the table in front of him. "I've asked Major Carter and Doctor Fraisier to work with you."
"Hey, the more the merrier," House said, visibly perking up as Carter walked into the room, followed by Fraisier. "I get the brunette, you can have the blonde," he muttered in an aside, winking at Wilson. He stood up and bowed extravagantly. "Lead on, ladies. Believe me, we'll be right behind you."
oOo
"Hey, how you feeling? Any better?" Jack placed a hand on Daniel's forehead, relieved that his fever seemed to be down, for now.
"I'm still sick," Daniel said irritably. "How do you think I feel?" He sighed, rubbed a hand over his red-rimmed eyes and smiled faintly up at Jack. "I'm sorry. I don't do sick very well, big or little."
"That's okay. You just hang in there. The doctors are going to make you better, I promise."
Daniel nodded, scratching at his chest till Jack grabbed his hand and anchored it in his own big one. "It itches," he muttered plaintively.
"I know. Tell you what, for every five minutes you don't scratch I'll read an extra page of that book you've been raving about for weeks, okay?" Jack offered.
"Okay," Daniel replied, sounding energized for the first time in days. "It's on the chair."
Jack groaned inwardly. He'd rather been hoping for a little stalling time while he arranged for the book to be brought in. He picked the heavy volume up anyway and opened it to the first page. "The Sentinels of Paraguay," he began. "You sure you wouldn't rather hear Harry Potter or something?" he asked hopefully.
Daniel shook his head firmly. "Nope. Blair sent me that and I was just about to start reading it when I got sick. Please, Jack?" he wheedled.
"Yeah, okay." Jack flipped to the first page and began to read, waylaying Daniel's small hands each time one of them inched unconsciously towards his itchy skin. Finally, when he felt his voice was about to give out he allowed Daniel a moment of scratching then slapped the book closed. "You itched," he announced, grinning to take the sting from the rebuke. "Hey, how about if I ask the doc if you can have a nice, warm bath with something in it to stop the itching?"
"Thanks, Jack." Daniel turned on his side and went to sleep.
"Right. Maybe in the morning." Jack bent forward and placed a kiss on the sweaty hair. "Goodnight, buddy