All Daniel had been aware of for what seemed like years was pain and fear and sickness. His head hurt, his whole body hurt, his hands were shaking, he was too hot, and all he could be sure of was that he was dying and nobody cared. They kept him tied to a bed and said inane things about holding on and waiting it out when all he needed was to go back to the sarcophagus.
All he needed…
For most of his life, certainly all of his adult life, Daniel had gotten what he needed for himself, by himself. A place to work, a place to live, an education. He'd even been his only company most of the last twenty years or so. Until Sha'are. Until Jack.
Now Sha'are was gone and Jack was trying to kill him.
Why didn't Jack care if he died?
The only reason Jack had followed him now into this supply room was to drag him back to the infirmary so he could be tied down again until he died. Why didn't they just let him go back to the planet? Back to Shyla. Back to the sarcophagus? Even if they hated him, at least then they'd be rid of him. Could they hate him so much that they'd stand by and watch him suffer this agonized spiral into death? All he needed was to get back to the sarcophagus.
All he needed…
He wasn't going to let Jack take him back to the infirmary. He wasn't going to let anybody do that. They didn't understand, Jack didn't understand. For the first time since he lost Sha'are, Daniel had felt good about himself. For the first time in his life, except for Sha'are, he'd felt – whole and invincible. Now, if he survived, he'd have to go back to how he felt before, how he was before. Empty. Lost. Different from everyone around him.
Jack didn't understand that. He didn't even know that Daniel needed him to understand that.
So now they were faced off against each other on the floor of this dark, cold, supply room. Daniel had the stolen gun pointed right at Jack, not five feet away. Why didn't Jack just leave him alone? Even if he couldn't get to the Stargate, Daniel would rather die alone, without all the guards and surveillance cameras and sad faces of his former friends who didn't understand what he needed.
The guards were coming, Jack had said. So let them come. Daniel had the gun, he'd do whatever he had to do. Better to go out fast than linger in this haze of pain and fear and confusion.
Confused? No, he wasn't confused. He knew exactly what was going on and why. Jack was here to drag him back to the infirmary, back to prison. He had to be, why else would he be here when Daniel was sick and scared and dying and threatening his life. Why else would he be here, risking that Daniel might shoot him?
I know what this is.
Jack said that. He didn't sound angry like he'd sounded since chasing Daniel in here. He sounded – like he was telling the truth. Like he was telling Daniel something that he knew Daniel didn't know. He knew what what was? This was an escape attempt. Daniel knew what it was; he was the one attempting it.
I know what it's like.
Still Jack's voice had that softly insistent sound of truth. He knew what what was like? Being scared? Being so sick you knew you were dying? Holding a gun on your friend trying to force him to let you live? He knew what what was like? He couldn't know what this was like.
We can get through this.
We? Get through what? Get through Daniel being willing to throw everything and everyone away just to get back to the sarcophagus? Get through attacking his doctor, his guard, and now his friend? We could get through that?
We?
Suddenly that word rang louder in his head than trying to figure out what 'we' would get through. There was no 'we'. There was never a 'we'. Except for his year with Sha'are, since his parents died, Daniel had never been part of a 'we'. Had he? Was he part of a 'we' now?
Jack said it. He said, 'we can get through this.'
Through what? Through this sickening pain, this overwhelming fear? Daniel didn't want to get through that, he wanted it to end. He didn't want 'we', he wanted to go back to the sarcophagus and end this pain. There'd never been a 'we', he wouldn't believe he was part of one now. It was too much to hope for because it was all he ever wanted.
All the times he had no money and no home, when all his books and studies filled only his brain, he would've given anything to have one person just to talk to, and even then it seemed too much to ask. Now Jack was saying 'we'. He and Daniel would get through this torment. It was too much to believe. Every second Daniel expected the guards to swarm in and power him back to the infirmary and the restraints. He expected Jack to take the gun and haul him back himself.
But if Jack said 'we', he meant it. That realization made a straight if slow path through Daniel's terror. Jack was here. Even after everything Daniel had done, Jack was here.
We can get through this.
In the face of that 'we', Daniel's last defenses shattered. Too tired and too sick to even let go of the gun, he started to cry. It was too much. The opposing feelings of fear and safety, sickness and comfort, exhaustion and the promise of rest were more than he could keep contained, and he cried.
He felt Jack move closer. He'd take the gun and say something smart-alecky to block his embarrassment and then the guards would come and take Daniel away.
But Jack didn't say anything. Even before he took the gun from Daniel, Jack put his arm around Daniel and pulled him close. Daniel didn't need any encouragement to accept the comfort. He was so tired, it was an automatic response to rest against Jack's shoulder and twist his fingers into the fabric of his sleeve.
He felt Jack wrap both arms around him, one hand on his head, the other rubbing his back. He still didn't say anything. Daniel cried harder; it was all too much, the pain and fear and safety. He was crying like a child who'd been lost and frightened and finally found his way back home.
Jack tightened his hold for a few seconds, a hard squeeze as though to reassure Daniel that he was real and really there. Then – at first Daniel thought it was just his own body reacting to the stress, making him feel dizzy and off-balance. But that wasn't it. The feeling was real, the motion was – Jack, rocking him. Jack, with one hand on Daniel's head, and the other rubbing his back, had begun to rock Daniel gently back and forth.
In the midst of his pain and fear and surprise, Daniel felt himself flooded by the sensation. Jack was rocking him gently but steadily while Daniel clung to his arm and cried against his shoulder.
Still, Daniel couldn't help thinking this was just a stopgap, a diversion to keep him quiet. Soon, the guards would come and Jack would let go and let them take Daniel away. He heard their boots on the tile floor and his body instinctively tensed and he held his breath.
Someone spoke, it was Teal'c wasn't it? Asking if they were unharmed. Daniel felt Jack shifting and he steeled himself for the loss of this safety, but Jack only tightened his hold again and answered in a casual voice that everything was under control and they'd be out when they were ready. And the footsteps marched away again, the door closed, and Daniel let out the sobbing breath he'd been holding in.
He was so exhausted. His head pounded, his body hurt, and he was humiliating himself by clinging to Jack like a child crying for something that couldn't be helped. Jack continued to hold him close, stroking his back, rocking him steadily, until Daniel cried himself out against his shoulder. Now Jack would let go and Daniel was too tired to probably even hold himself upright without support.
But Jack didn't let go, and he didn't stop rocking.
Daniel didn't know what to think. Maybe Jack was waiting for him to – what? Let go, sit back, say something? If that was the case, Daniel decided he would never move or speak again. He relaxed into Jack's strength with a sigh. Strange how strength could be manifested by the supremely gentle action of rocking a friend out of panic into rest. Someday Daniel would research it and find out if it had a parallel somewhere in mythology. Someday, but right now he just wanted to sleep.
Maybe he could sleep here, Jack would keep him safe. All he needed was some sleep. All he needed –
Well, it seemed Jack knew what he needed after all. In a matter of minutes he'd managed to bring Daniel from mayhem to peace. Who knew Jack could be that smart? Daniel was too tired to laugh, but his body gave it a try anyway. It sounded more like a cough than anything.
"How're you doing Danny Boy?" Jack whispered. He didn't stop rocking. The only answer Daniel could give was to shake his head against Jack's shoulder. "Take your time," Jack went on. "We've got all the time in the world. Just take your time."
Time. Did Daniel need time? Well, Jack seemed to think he needed time and for now at least, Jack seemed to have a pretty good idea what Daniel needed. Time. Time to feel safe, time to feel rested. Time to feel better.
Daniel lost himself in being rocked. He had the fleeting odd thought that he could become as addicted to being rocked as he had to the sarcophagus. More maybe, this sensation touched something deeper inside of him than the sarcophagus ever reached. The sarcophagus made him feel invincible, that he didn't need anybody. This, being held and rocked and comforted, made him realize that he wasn't invincible, that he did need somebody, and – even more incredible – that 'somebody' was here.
He started to cry again, softer this time, and Jack gave him another reassuring squeeze. "You're going to be fine. Just hold onto me."
That was so easy to do. Daniel hung onto Jack's arm, his forehead still pressed into his shoulder. Just hold onto Jack and cry out all his pain and fear and grief. How could something so embarrassing feel so good?
His parents had never put up with tears and self-pity from him. His foster parents had been only slightly more tolerant; still, any display of emotion had uniformly been met with the adjuration to 'be a man'. In school, in college, his teachers and advisors were more interested in his academic progress than his emotional concerns.
With Sha'are, he'd never had a reason to be unhappy. Now, a year and a half of living without her, taking each step, each breath, with the hope of finding her again, had slowly scraped raw every nerve, every defense, every brick of the fortress of his pride, until finally now he was left with nothing but the sound of Jack's voice, the touch of his hands, and the steady, steady rocking that was restoring the sanity to his soul.
Finally, even his quiet crying stopped, and Daniel sagged against Jack, panting, shivering now that the heat of his passion had gone.
"How're you doing Daniel? You're shaking." The rocking motion slowed and Daniel clutched Jack's arm.
"Please don't stop."
"I won't."
Five minutes ago, Daniel had been fighting Jack across this room and into these shelves. Now, he was begging Jack not to let go of him, and Jack was easily saying he wouldn't. Five minutes ago, Daniel had been desperate to Gate back to the sarcophagus and leave everything and everyone behind. Now he was desperate not to leave this dark, cold, supply closet and the comforting fold of Jack's arms.
Another few moments of that comfort and the world started coming into clearer focus for Daniel, even as his memory seemed fuzzier. Why was he huddled here on the cold floor, with Jack holding onto him like he was afraid he'd disappear?
Because he'd broken down crying when he realized Jack wasn't going to hurt him or yell at him or drag him off to be put back in restraints.
And why would Jack want to do that?
Because Daniel had held on gun on him, fought with him, attacked his guard, attacked his doctor, broken out of the infirmary.
And why was he in the infirmary?
Because he'd collapsed in General Hammond's office. Because he'd wanted to resign. Because he'd deliberately destroyed part of Samantha's lab. Because he'd left his friends to suffer for days in that mine on that planet and he'd yelled at Jack and shrugged off all the concern he should've had for them and the reason they got in trouble in the first place was all his fault anyway.
With a gasp of pain and understanding, Daniel sat back and used the hand on Jack's arm to keep him away. In the half light from the doorway they were sitting next to, he saw the surprise and the confusion on Jack's face.
"What is it? Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." With his free hand, Daniel scrubbed his face, trying to clear any evidence of his tears. But that arm still had the restraint buckled around it and he couldn't do much without nearly doing himself damage.
"Let's take that off of you," Jack said. By his voice, he knew something had changed but didn't know what.
Daniel was going to resist, but he wanted to be free of that last shackle. He watched Jack undo the strap and lay the whole thing aside. Then he turned Daniel's hand over. His wrist was red and starting to bruise from the force it had taken to break free in the infirmary.
"We'll have the doc look at that. Let me see your other hand. How are your feet? Did you hurt yourself?"
Daniel let Jack take his other hand and turn it over, then he ran a hand over Daniel's bare feet and ankles.
"Are you okay?" he asked again. Daniel didn't look at him. "Did you get hurt when we were wrestling over there?" He sounded like he was trying to make light of what happened.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm sorry." Daniel spoke too fast, he knew it. He wiped his face again and kept avoiding Jack's eyes. He'd shown complete disregard for the team's safety and welfare, acted like an idiot, attacked Dr. Fraiser, attacked a guard, pulled a gun on Jack. Now to completely humiliate himself, he'd cried in front of Jack. He hadn't cried like that in front of anybody since – ever. Not when his parents died, not any of the long nights since he lost Sha'are. He'd cried like that by himself, alone in his apartment, more times than he could remember. But never in front of anybody.
He'd put Jack through all of this and now Jack was here making sure he hadn't hurt himself in his mania.
"I'm sorry," he said again. He wondered if he could say it enough times.
"Sorry for what?" Jack asked. He might be asking Daniel to catalogue everything they both knew he'd done, or he might really be wondering what Daniel was talking about. Daniel couldn't tell.
"Can we just go back?" He made a faint attempt to stand up; it took all the strength he had left and didn't get him anywhere anyway.
"In a minute. Let's just regroup first." Jack put a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine." The words came out muffled as Daniel wiped his face again. He must've gotten all his tears by now, more couldn't be falling. His nose was probably running too. It always did when he cried. He just needed to get back to the infirmary. Dr. Fraiser would give him a sedative and he'd go off to that blurry place where he didn't remember anything. All he needed was to be where he was lost again, because it hurt too much to find himself here. He wiped his face again.
All he needed…
"Hold on a minute Daniel, let me just…" With a pat to Daniel's shoulder, Jack picked up the gun and got to his feet, his sentence trailing off into the dull echo. He was probably going to call the guards. When he was gone, Daniel tried again to stand up, but he didn't have the strength. So he waited.
"Here."
In the semi-darkness and starting to need his glasses again Daniel couldn't quite make out what Jack was handing him. A box. He took it into his hands.
Kleenex. It was a box of Kleenex. Jack had even ripped the cardboard lid off and pulled the first tissue up to get him started. This time Daniel really had to laugh, and he had to take a deep breath to accomplish it.
"Thanks," he said, and managed a slight smile. He risked one very brief glance at Jack. "Send more." He heard Jack chuckle as he repositioned himself in front of Daniel again. Daniel pulled out a couple of tissues and wiped his eyes and blew his nose.
"I'm sorry," he said again. He was still trembling, and the floor was cold under his bare feet.
"Sorry for what?" Jack asked again, and that time Daniel knew it was his 'you have nothing to be sorry for' tone of voice.
"For trying to shoot you," Daniel said. He didn't see the gun; Jack must've tucked it into the back of his belt.
"For crying out loud, you shot a light fixture. You and I both know you've never thought I was so bright that you'd confuse me with a light fixture." And that brought another genuine laugh out of Daniel, soft but sincere.
"Ya think?" he asked, but the deeper feeling wouldn't be held at bay. "You're angry with me."
"Damn right I'm angry with you." Jack agreed without hesitation. "What kind of stunt were you pulling here? Gallivanting all over the place where anything could happen to you. You were in that room, in that bed, in those restraints to protect you from more harm. What about a little trust?"
"I don't trust anybody." It came out faster than Daniel had intended. He wasn't sure he had intended to say it at all. Jack sighed. He didn't seem surprised.
"I know."
Daniel wished he could amend his statement; it wasn't that he didn't trust Jack with his life. He just didn't trust Jack – or anybody – with his shames, with his secrets. With his soul.
"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything else to say.
"For what?" Jack asked, sounding like he didn't need an answer.
"I hurt Dr. Fraiser."
"She's okay," Jack said, and Daniel looked up at him in surprise. He remembered what he did to her. Jack must've read that in his eyes; he shrugged. "She was rubbing her shoulder, but she said she was okay."
"I attacked the guard," Daniel offered, lowering his head again.
"Ah, that would explain this." Jack lifted Daniel's right hand again. In addition to the bruising around his wrist, his knuckles were raw.
"I was angry."
"I bet."
"I was scared."
"I know."
"I thought I was dying." The words were harder for Daniel to get out. "I thought – I thought –."
"You thought we didn't care if you were dying," Jack supplied.
"I didn't care what was happening to you down in that mine. You could've died down there and I wouldn't even have known it. I was mean to Sam, I hurt – everybody." Better to just save time and include all of humanity in there.
"And what do you think now? You still think we don't care what happens to you?"
It took several moments for Daniel to stammer out an answer. He couldn't say 'no', he didn't want to say 'yes'.
"I don't know." He pulled out a couple more tissues and swiped at tears he must've missed the first few times. He couldn't still be crying. "Stupid answer, hunh?" he asked. He peered up at Jack as he blew his nose again.
"Wellll, it's not the smartest thing I've ever heard you say…" Jack pulled his knees up and crossed his arms over them. When he spoke again, his voice was serious. "But the way you've been feeling Daniel, I bet nothing's making sense."
More tears appeared from somewhere but Daniel didn't think he could still be crying.
"How can you say that?" he demanded. He ducked his head suddenly, sharply. "How can you sit there and defend me after – after – everything I did?"
"And how can you think I don't care about you after everything I've done?" Jack asked evenly. That brought Daniel's head back up. He looked at Jack, feeling like he was seeing him for the first time. This wasn't the gruff, smart-alecky, condescending Air Force Colonel who, if he ever got caught doing something nice, brushed it off as an accident. This was…
His friend.
"Oh, gee." Daniel grabbed fresh tissues just in time to press them against his eyes as he did cry again.
"Daniel?" Jack asked, concerned. Daniel waved it off and wiped his eyes and his nose, and shook his head.
"No, it's all right, I'm okay. It's just – I'm an idiot."
Jack seemed to consider this. "Well, it would be rude of me to disagree."
Daniel grinned. His face felt tight and his eyes were swollen and it was uncomfortable, but he couldn't help grinning despite how bad he felt physically and emotionally.
Jack grinned back at him. "What d'ya say we find someplace more comfortable to sit? This floor is cold and if I know Teal'c he's standing guard at the door, glaring at anybody who comes near."
Daniel looked up in the direction of the door. Another memory surfaced. " I attacked Teal'c too, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did," Jack answered, patiently. Then he shrugged one shoulder and offered: "He startled you."
Daniel covered his eyes with his hands. "Please tell me I didn't do anything to General Hammond?"
"Well, you threw your resignation at him and then collapsed on his floor, but it was nothing that required medical attention or dry cleaning."
Daniel sighed and dried his eyes again while Jack watched him for a few moments, probably gauging his temper, and his physical condition.
"Think you can stand?"
"No."
"All right, hold on." Jack stood, and turned to the door. "Teal'c?" he called and the door opened immediately.
"Yes, O'Neill?"
Clutching the box of Kleenex, Daniel ducked his head so that Teal'c couldn't see his face and so that he didn't have to see Teal'c's face.
"Will you grab a wheelchair from the infirmary?"
"At once." When he left and shut the door, Jack crouched down again.
"I think that'll be better than trying to negotiate you on bare feet through the broken glass."
Broken glass. The shattered light fixture. Daniel had fired the gun right over Jack's head.
"I'm sorry."
"We definitely need to increase your vocabulary Daniel. Come on, let's get you at least standing." He lifted Daniel to his feet and kept an arm around him to support him.
"I can walk." Daniel offered. Maybe if he stopped being so much trouble…
"Not through the glass."
Daniel didn't answer that. He couldn't walk through the glass and any other way out of this supply closet was the long way around and his legs wouldn't carry him as far as the next floor tile. His only option was to wait with Jack.
The door opened and Teal'c came in with the wheelchair. Daniel ducked his head just as far as he could get it, and Jack rubbed his shoulder.
"We're all friends Daniel," he whispered. "We're all friends."
Friends I couldn't have cared less about. Daniel thought. Friends I attacked, friends I insulted. Friends I don't deserve to have. He felt Jack urging him forward and he stared at his bare feet scuffing across the cold floor. Then he stared at the wheels of the wheelchair. Anything but look up at Teal'c.
"Daniel-Jackson, do you require assistance?"
"NO!" Daniel didn't mean to shout. "No – no. Thanks. No." Having Teal'c help him would be too much. "I'm fine. Really. Please."
If Teal'c so much as moved in his direction, Daniel was going to beg Jack to intervene, but Teal'c didn't move. Daniel only felt Jack's hands under his elbows as he hugged the Kleenex box to himself.
"C'mon, Daniel. Let's get you into the chair and back to your room." Jack sounded tired now, or maybe fed up. Daniel couldn't blame him for being fed up. Now it was going to happen, now Jack was going to take him back to the isolation room, back to the restraints, back to being alone and shut in somewhere he couldn't get in the way.
Well, fine, it didn't matter anyway, did it? He was too tired to care and too much trouble to deserve better. It didn't matter.
But it did matter.
As Daniel sat in the wheelchair, Jack leaned over to put down the foot pedals and get Daniel's feet on them. Daniel turned his head down so that maybe he could catch Jack's eyes and when he did, he whispered again,
"I'm sorry." Would he ever be able to say it enough?
Jack immediately crouched down next to him. "We'll talk about everything later, Daniel. Right now I just want to make sure you're okay. Okay?"
"Okay."
That meant he was going back to the restraints. Back to being watched and whispered about and isolated. Jack got a look on his face like he knew Daniel was lying, but then he smiled and reached up to pat the side of Daniel's face.
"We can get through this," he said again. Daniel ducked his head and hugged the Kleenex box tighter and gave a shaky nod. Jack could say that. He wasn't the one who couldn't walk away from this.
One more pat on his shoulder, and Jack stood up to start wheeling Daniel back to the infirmary. Daniel watched the floor roll past between the foot pedals, Teal'c a fixed guard on his right side.
"I have taken the liberty of insuring that no one will be in the hallway," Teal'c said, and Daniel wondered if he was talking to him or to Jack. "Captain Carter also informed me that she would alert the nursing staff to ready Daniel-Jackson's room for re-occupancy."
Meaning they were putting new restraints on the bed. Daniel thought. Well, did he deserve anything else? At least that way he could be sure he wouldn't hurt anybody again.
Too soon, they got to the room. Daniel kept his head down, still he could see that Sam was in there with a nurse. He watched their feet walk across the floor towards him and felt that involuntary tension that they were going to speak to him, or touch him. Sam even started to say his name, but she cut off abruptly.
"We'll take it from here." Jack said. He might've been cutting Sam off. Nobody moved for a moment until Jack added a little pointedly, "We'll call if we need anything."
Daniel watched the nurse's feet walk past. Sam started to walk past, then she stopped and Daniel felt her hand on his shoulder. He tried hard not to shrink from her touch, but he couldn't stop the tremor of apprehension that ran through him.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered. She sounded upset. Daniel hugged the Kleenex closer and bent his head down as far as he could. She hesitated. He could feel her hesitation, the way her touch seemed to shiver on his shoulder. Then she squeezed hard before walking out of the room. When Daniel heard the door close behind her, he lifted his head.
Jack sat on the bed in front of him. There were no restraints to be seen, just a pile of infirmary pajamas, a bathrobe, and a pair of socks. Suddenly, Daniel felt like all would be right with the world if he could just get his feet warm again.
"How're you doing?" Jack asked. His voice was gentle, and he sounded like he really wanted to know.
"I don't know," Daniel had to admit. He knew from experience that Jack wouldn't want vague descriptions of angst or dread; he'd want the plain, absolute facts. "I feel disoriented. I feel anxious. I'm cold and I'm – hungry." That last one surprised Daniel. "I think it's been awhile since I ate anything."
"We can fix that," Jack said. He stood up from the bed. "Why don't you see about getting changed?" He indicated the pile of clothes and the door that led to the bathroom. "I'll see about getting you something to eat."
"Okay."
Standing up was harder than Daniel expected it to be and Jack gave him a hand, swinging the foot pedals out of the way and keeping him steady until he was upright. His muscles felt like he'd just run an obstacle course. Shuffling stiffly, hanging onto the box of Kleenex, he picked up the clothes and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. Taking a shower was entirely out of the question if he wanted to remain standing, so he washed up at the sink before changing.
For a minute he stopped and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was unnaturally pale in the fluorescent light, with his eyes starkly red and swollen. Maybe it wasn't the light though, maybe it was just his current state.
He was about to put the socks on when he heard another person out in the room, talking to Jack. Now they were bringing in the restraints, so there was probably no reason to put the socks on since they would probably remove them again before restraining him. But God, he didn't want to be restrained again. He only wanted to sleep.
Finally, he decided that even if they did restrain him, at least he'd be in bed and he could go to sleep. Jack would put a blanket over him if he said he was cold. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Short of being allowed to go home, Daniel was going to be kept under watch no matter where he was on the base, so this room, that bed, those restraints, were just as good as any other option.
With a sigh of resignation, he picked up his Kleenex, and opened the bathroom door.
He didn't see guards or restraints. It was still just Jack and the neatly made bed. This time though, a tray sat on the overbed tray table. Scrambled eggs, toast, skim milk, and Jell-O.
"Dinner's here," Jack said. "Or breakfast. Or whatever time of the day it is. You need help with those?" he indicated the socks.
"What? No, I just was gonna sit on the bed to put them on. Thanks."
Daniel managed to ease himself onto the bed and had to rest a bit before pulling the socks on. He could've just laid down then, across the bed, and fallen dead asleep, but Jack pushed the tray table closer. Daniel noticed the only utensil he'd been given.
"A spoon?" he asked, picking it up.
"I wasn't going to take the chance of you hurting yourself," Jack said. He sounded stern, but he added gently. "The way your hands are shaking, you'd poke yourself in the eye, no question."
And the way Daniel's hands were shaking, that was probably true.
"Thanks," he said, and he meant it. One more thing that Jack knew he needed.
He started to eat while Jack got comfortable in the uncomfortable chair. Even with his hands shaking, he managed to feed himself.
"These are the best eggs I ever had."
"It's the company," Jack assured him.
"Sure." And Daniel found he was able to smile again, despite his overall physical and emotional exhaustion. "Thanks for the Jell-O, too."
"Well, when you go through withdrawal, you get the munchies," Jack said, and hastily added "I've heard," while trying to look innocent.
"Withdrawal? Is that what this is?" That surprised Daniel. "I thought I was just being an ass."
"Well, there was that too," Jack allowed, but he softened his agreement with a smile and an admission. "I think being on that planet made us all a little cranky."
"That's interesting. I wonder if it has anything to do with the naquada?" Daniel finished the eggs and most of the toast, but held his spoon poised over the Jell-O as a new idea took hold of him. "I mean, granted, the larger quantity of it in the sarcophagus plus the concentrated and repeated delivery of it into my system produced a much more intense reaction…"
All of Daniel's assorted hurts were momentarily forgotten as his mind grabbed hold of an intriguing question.
"Daniel?"
"But still, even the limited contact you had with it down in the mine -."
"Daniel."
"It might be worthwhile doing a study – I mean we have no idea of the long term effects of exposure to -."
"Daniel."
That stopped Daniel in mid-thought. "Jack?"
"As fascinating as I'm sure that line of discovery is for you, I think you're missing the immediate point here."
Daniel dropped his eyes and started to eat the Jell-O. He didn't say anything. Jack sat forward in his chair.
"You're going through withdrawal, Daniel." His voice was gentle. "And I don't think it's even mostly a physical withdrawal you're going through."
"Wh-wh-what do you mean? Not physical? What else – that's all – what – I don't know what you mean?" But Daniel wasn't as confused as he wanted to be.
"Daniel, I'm no doctor and I'm sure no psychologist, but I think you have to agree that there was more going on than just physical addiction."
"I didn't love Shyla," Daniel blurted. He remembered what he'd said to Sam about Sha'are; it shamed him now to think how cavalierly he'd dismissed the love and light and center of his soul. "That's not why I wanted to stay there. It was the sarcophagus."
Trying to cover his embarrassment, he took a mouthful of Jell-O that was almost a too big. He swallowed it and wiped the back of his hand across his lip and didn't look at Jack.
"I just wanted to – to – help those people. They're in slavery. You know better than even I do what – what – they're suffering down there in the mine. I wanted to – to help them. To free them. It wasn't – I don't -." He finally looked at Jack. He whispered, "I love Sha'are."
"I know you do, Daniel. That's what I'm talking about. If you could stay on a planet with a woman you didn't love, you'd still be faithful to Sha'are in the one way that still counts – with your heart."
Daniel felt anger and loss welling up in his eyes. He started to answer but he was cut off when the door opened. Dr. Fraiser came in with a guard carrying a new set of restraints. Daniel thought he would throw up. He closed his eyes and let the spoon fall into the bowl of Jell-O. Fine. Get it over with. Why not.
He heard Jack stand up from the plastic chair and suddenly Daniel had to know. He looked Jack square in the eyes. "Do I need those?" If Jack said he did, then it would be okay. But Daniel hoped Jack wouldn't say he needed them.
Jack looked from Daniel back to the doctor, with that look on his face like he got caught in something he didn't want to have to be the one to get out of.
"Wwwellll…" he came right up close to Daniel and folded his hands on the overbed table. "Do you remember why you needed those before?"
Yes. Vividly.
"So I wouldn't hurt anybody," Daniel said. He guessed Jack must think he still needed them.
"So you wouldn't hurt yourself," Jack corrected him. "Are you planning on doing anything to hurt yourself?"
"No." Daniel wouldn't look up at Jack.
"Are you planning on doing anything that might endanger anyone else?"
"No."
"What do you think you might be doing for the next eight or twelve hours?" Jack asked, and Daniel sighed. He was bone tired.
"I just want to sleep." He figured Jack would say that as long as he was going to be in bed anyway, he might as well have the restraints on. "That's all, I just want to sleep."
"Then I don't think you need those," Jack said. Daniel looked up in surprise. He almost didn't believe it. "BUT -" Jack went on. "I am going to stay here and watch you and if I think for even one second you're becoming a danger to yourself or anybody else, I will put those on you myself. Got that?"
Daniel nodded that he understood, but all he could think was that he didn't need the restraints. He could lie down and go to sleep and he wouldn't be restrained and Jack would be there to watch over him. All he wanted was to sleep. All he needed was to sleep.
Jack gave him a smile, one of those 'yeah, I thought that would make you happy' smiles, and then he nodded at the doctor.
"I think you might need to look at his hand." He pulled the table out of the way and added to Daniel, "Then you can get some sleep."
Daniel let Dr. Fraiser wrap his raw, swollen knuckles in gauze and tape with no comment. He wanted to apologize, he had to apologize, but he wanted to wait until he felt stronger. He wanted to wait until he didn't feel like an idiot anymore so he could say what he meant and know that she knew he understood what he'd done. Right now all he felt he could offer her was a complacent patient.
Janet smiled at him and patted his arm and gave him a brief but thorough once over before surrendering him back to Jack's care.
"Just sleep," she told him, both of them. "If anything changes, let me know. Otherwise, just sleep." Jack escorted her to the door, and Daniel heard him whisper something to her before she left. Then he shut the door and came back to the bed.
"Come on, let's get you settled. I don't want her coming back in here saying I can't take care of you." As he spoke, Jack took the box of Kleenex to set on the bedside stand, he pulled the blankets back and steadied Daniel until he was lying back against the pillows. He pulled the blankets back up.
"You let me know if you need anything, I'll be right here."
"Thanks." Daniel meant for everything, absolutely everything. "And I'm sorry." For absolutely everything.
"We'll talk about that some other time," Jack said. "If either one of us remembers it later…" He smiled but for the first time, Daniel saw the exhaustion on Jack's face. "Let's just both get some rest."
Daniel nodded and turned under the blankets to curl on his side. He thought sleep would overpower him immediately, but something didn't feel right. He thought about it a minute, letting his mind travel back over the last hour, trying to figure out what might be wrong. Finally, he realized what it was.
He reached over to snag the box of Kleenex. Pulling it under the blankets, he hugged it to his chest and finally closed his eyes. Just as sleep took hold, Daniel thought he heard Jack chuckle.
The end.