This fic is not a tag to Solitudes, but does follow directly after that episode.
Warnings:
bit of swearing from Col. Pottymouth,
MC whumping, both canon and non-canon,
lots of spoilers for the first couple seasons,
but if you haven't seen them yet, why ARE you reading this?
Disclaimer: Little girls play with Barbie and Ken. I play with Jack, Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c. They don't get paid, and neither do I. None of can claim we created anything more than our own little plotlines.
Crutches
"You busy?"
"Jack!" Daniel exclaimed, startled when he looked up to discover that the person in his doorway was leaning heavily on a pair of crutches and looking decidedly pale. "I had no idea Janet was going to let you get up and walk around yet!"
The fact that Jack didn't answer, merely leaned forward and tried to grin- although it turned out more like a grimace of pain- set off warning bells in Daniel's head.
"Jack? DID Janet okay you walking around?" Daniel had left his chair and was moving toward the Colonel as he spoke.
Jack turned to face Daniel's couch and managed to move two steps closer to it before Daniel put an arm on his back. By the time Jack reached the couch, he was grateful for the archeologist's help to turn around and sit- not just fall- onto the couch. When Daniel gently lifted his leg up onto the couch and then started stuffing a pillow behind his head- Where did that come from?-Jack sighed and shut his eyes. So much for my brilliant plan to escape the infirmary. He'd pulled off the first part- the actual escape- with panache, but apparently he'd far overestimated his strength. By the time he'd made it as far as the elevator, he'd wanted a break. The idea to visit Daniel on his way out of the building seemed like an easy way to cover up his need to sit and rest for a while. But the walk down the corridor had taken forever. When did it get so damn hard to walk with crutches? You'd have sworn I was ninety, going that slow! Jack sighed again.
A hand came to rest on his forehead, before moving to his shoulder. "Jack?"
He opened his eyes, to see Daniel bending over him, worried. "I'm fine, Daniel. Just went for a little walk and decided to visit. Guess it tired me out more than I thought."
"You want anything? Coffee, a snack," me to call Janet to come get you?
Jack considered the offer briefly. That Napoleonic power-monger hasn't let me eat anything solid since I got back here, and real coffee- especially Daniel's good stuff- sounds nice, but my stomach's a bit antsy and I DON'T want it to come back up, so "No thanks, Daniel. If it's okay, I'll just catch a little nap here on your couch."
"Sure, Jack, anytime," came the immediate answer.
Jack was asleep in less than two minutes. Daniel was on the phone to Frasier a minute later. "Janet?"
"Yes, Daniel?" Janet wondered why on earth Daniel would be calling her. He usually just came down to the infirmary if he wanted to check on Jack. In fact, she had thrown him out the night before after he had been camped out by the colonel's bed for nearly twelve hours, only leaving to drive Sam home after she had been released. Still, better give him the latest...
"He's fine. Teal'c's with him. In fact, the instrument readings are actually looking a little better. I was going to check on him again in a few minutes, he'll probably be waking up again soon, and he might be ready to try some solid food again today."
There was silence on the line for at least thirty seconds as Daniel considered this. Teal'c was with him? Like hell he was! How on earth had Jack managed to get out of the infirmary without being noticed by Janet or Teal'c? And hadn't Janet said- "You said the instrument readings are looking a little better?"
"Yes, Daniel, I can bring them up on my laptop in my office, and having them on the screen in there allows me to keep tabs on the colonel without having to stand over him to keep him in bed. That way I can actually get some paperwork done, too."
Daniel was still trying to solve the mystery of how Jack had evaded Teal'c. And should I tell her he's here, or let her discover for herself that he's missing? Imagining Janet's reaction made him wince. Better tell her now. "Uh, Janet..."
"Yes, Daniel," she interrupted, starting to sound very exasperated.
That so does not bode well for me, thought Daniel. "I, uh, don't know quite how to tell you this..."
"Just spit it out."
"Jack's asleep on my couch."
More silence on the line. Then, "Daniel, that's impossible. If Colonel O'Neill were to try to leave the infirmary- if he were even to leave his bed- the pulse monitor would come off of his finger and the code alarm would go off, thinking that his heart stopped."
Daniel wasn't a hundred percent sure how he wanted to handle this. He didn't want to argue with Janet about it, but she was giving him that tone of voice that said, "I think you're imagining things and you may have some complications from that concussion you got from being thrown out of the gate. I'll be coming to drag you down to my kingdom for CT scans pretty quick..." Looking at the man on the couch, Daniel decided, maybe it's time for one of those- what did Jack call it?- tactical withdrawals.
"Okay, Janet, I'll see you later." And I most certainly will, she'll probably come stomping in here ready to rip us both a new one when she finds out he really did escape.
Janet hung up the phone, frowning. It's not like Dr. Jackson to call me. He usually tries to minimize the time spent in my infirmary, yes, but he always wants to be here when members of his team are here. Just like the rest of the team, especially a certain stubborn colonel, who's constantly at his side when he's recovering. And this whole cockamamie story about the colonel being on his couch- well, that's fishy. Maybe I should send an airman to bring him in for some CT scans. But he didn't say if he was on base or in his apartment- Janet's thoughts broke off abruptly as she pulled back the privacy curtain around the colonel's bed.
His empty bed. His empty bed, with an exhausted Jaffa in the chair next to it, clearly sound asleep- with a pulse monitor stuck on his finger. Janet ground her teeth together. Oooh, when I get my hands on him... If that man has managed to reinjure himself- I told him he was not to leave this bed for anything, ANYTHING! for at least two more days. And how the hell could he manage to get to Daniel's office- it better be his office and not his apartment- on that leg? It was broken in two places! And if one of those broken ribs slipped out of place and punctured a lung or an organ-I, I'll kill him myself! Nine units of blood. Eleven hours of surgery to try to put him back together. And he risks it all to- to- what was he doing, anyway? What was he thinking?
Janet's face as she entered the elevator was enough to make the airman inside cower in the corner. She didn't notice, though, as she reached over and pushed the button, still fuming.
Daniel heard the emphatic clicking of her heels long before she entered his office and decided to intercept the good doctor. I really don't think Jack managed to reinjure himself- especially since he stopped sweating and his color had started to come back almost immediately after he sat down. He didn't have a fever and he's breathing easily again, and he seems to be sleeping soundly. He probably just jumped the gun and overexerted himself. And being rudely awakened by the doctor only minutes after practically passing out on my couch- well, it'd just be rude. Especially since he probably just wanted a break from her in the first place. After all, if he'd really wanted to escape, staying on the base was a bad idea. Jack might pretend otherwise, but he's too smart for that.
Janet nearly ran into the man standing in the corridor. About to chew someone's ear off for not getting out of her way when she was clearly on a mission- it could have been a medical emergency, might actually be a medical emergency- don't think like that, Janet- and someone had the gall to block my way?- she was surprised to look up and find that the man in the way was Daniel.
"Daniel?" Janet's ire was evident in her tone.
"Calm down," Daniel said placatingly.
"Get out of my way, DOCTOR Jackson. I need to examine that... that... that stubborn, mule-headed, insubordinant, inconsiderate, unthinking, risk-taking colonel!" Janet spluttered.
"I'm fairly certain Jack's fine, Dr. Fraisier. I think he just wore himself out coming up here on those crutches."
"Crutches?" Janet's face paled and her voice dropped several decibels. "The strain on his chest... Please let me check on him."
Daniel was surprised by the change in the doctor, a rapid change from annoyance and anger to serious worry. He moved out of her way immediately, stepping unnoticed into her shadow as she entered his office and rushed to Jack's side. After thoroughly checking Jack over, she started to back up- and ran right into Daniel. "What? oh Daniel... Sorry, I didn't realize you were standing there."
"Well?" Her single-minded focus on Jack had not gone unnoticed.
"He'll be fine. His ribs still feel aligned, he didn't manage to dislocate any of them. But if he had... he could have punctured a lung or an organ. Again." She shook her head while looking at the floor. "He should have NEVER been using crutches. For that matter, he should have never even been out of bed."
She looked up and locked eyes with Daniel. "This is serious, Daniel. If he had reinjured himself, he could have died."
"Why do you think I called you after I got him settled on the couch? I AM smart enough to realize you didn't discharge him."
Janet ran a hand over her eyes and back into her hair and sighed. Daniel did call, and he did try to tell you Jack was here, and you didn't want to believe him. "What was he even doing here?"
"I don't know. He pretty much used up all his energy getting here. I think he might have just wanted a change of scenery."
"Well, he does seem to be resting comfortably. He's not looking around for ways to escape your office." She looked around, considering. "Are you going to be working in here today?"
Daniel was somewhat surprised by her question. "Well, actually, I was just picking up some books and my laptop and then going down to work on translations in the infirmary again until Jack's up to another game of chess or cards."
"Why don't you stay here, at least until he wakes up. It'll do him good to sleep. To rest. And if you keep an eye on him, and call me if he starts having trouble breathing, or..."
"If anything changes, I'll let you know." Daniel was flattered by the amount of trust that Janet was placing in him, letting him watch over Jack when he knew she'd rather be doing it herself.
"Yes, well, I'm only doing this because I think that maybe you'll have more luck keeping him one place. If I so much as hear a rumor that he's moving around in anything other than a wheelchair, he's going back to the infirmary, and I WILL tie him to the bed. Make sure you tell him that, Daniel."
"Yes, ma'am." Daniel's mock salute and sarcastic tone were offset by the concern in his eyes.
He's been spending WAY too much time with the colonel. Janet walked toward the door, grabbing the crutches that were leaning against a bookshelf on her way and turning briefly when Daniel spoke again.
"You'll send a wheelchair up, right?"
An "Uggh!" growled under her breath was Janet's only answer as she stomped away.
two days later...
"Daniel."
"No, Jack."
"Danny, please." Jack's tone was distinctly whiny, but the archeologist was not about to do anything that might put him on Janet's bad side. He spent way too much time in the infirmary to risk her having a grudge against him.
"No, Jack."
"But, but..."
"You're not strong enough to have crutches. There's too much chance of one of your ribs becoming reinjured by the strain and puncturing something. Need I remind you had a punctured lung when you got here?"
"But I'm sick of sitting. Sitting in bed, sitting in that chair and letting you wheel me around like some kind of invalid, sitting in the shower..."
Daniel interrupted, "And therefore not needing another surgery because you've reinjured yourself..."
"Well, can we at least go somewhere new today?"
"Like?" Daniel had no intention of agreeing to an unspecified destination.
"Somewhere with a TV?"
Daniel chuckled. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you haven't seen the Simpsons in at least two weeks, would it?"
Jack pretended innocence. "Who, me?"
"D'oh!" Daniel grinned when Jack turned in the wheelchair with a stunned look on his face. He actually blinked in astonishment. Daniel threw back his head and laughed, causing several airmen in the hall to turn and look at them.
"Are you okay, Daniel?"
"Yes, Jack."
"But you said, 'd'oh.'"
"So?"
"Well, for a guy who speaks a bunch of languages, it's not very articulate."
"I don't know about that. Sure seems to have expressed a lot more than a bunch of long words would have in this situation." Daniel turned into the doorway of his office, but stopped when Jack put his hand on the door jamb and looked over his shoulder.
"Not your office again, Daniel. Please. The whole idea of me getting out of the infirmary is to go somewhere different, to get rid of the cabin fever."
"I thought you wanted to watch the Simpsons."
Jack's look was more eloquent than words could ever be. Oh, please. We're 24 levels below the surface in a heavily shielded military bunker. You have NO reception.
Another grin from the archeologist was his answer. "I may have been stopping by your apartment and switching the tapes in your VCR. And I may have brought a few of them in to watch on the TV in my office..."
Jack's hand returned to his lap as he tried not to gape at Daniel as he wheeled him the rest of the way inside the room and helped him onto the couch.
Three hours later, when Sam and Teal'c arrived for the surprise get-together they had planned, they were surprised to find Jack asleep on the couch with a plate of cookies on his lap and Daniel on the floor next to him, asleep with his fingers still resting on the keys of his laptop. And a theme song was blaring that told Sam without looking at the TV she'd see a pointy-headed boy skateboarding to school.
two weeks later...
"Doc!"
There was no immediate answer, so the man in the infirmary bed yelled again. "Doc!"
Here we go. Oh, I am so going to hurt Daniel for making me have to break this news to the colonel... "He's asleep, Janet, and I don't want to wake him." Yeah, right. You didn't want him to yell at you for going on a mission without him. Coward. Hmmph. They're all three cowards, no matter how many bad guys they take on, if they're too chicken to tell their CO they're going off-world without him. Janet walked briskly from her office to the corner bed in the room she thought of as the 'long-term ward'. Or maybe I should just call it "SG-1 & Friends," as it's only been used by members of that team so far.
Another bellow brought her to a pause in the doorway. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the bed's occupant. "Colonel, I will not have you screaming in my infirmary unless there is good reason. Which I can tell from your tone of voice, you don't have."
Colonel O'Neill took a minute to look properly repentant for yelling when there was a perfectly good call button lying next to him, before launching into his barrage of questions and comments.
"Do you know what's gotten into Daniel? Usually he'd have been by hours ago to take me for a spin and let me say hi to Carter in her lab. And it's not like Daniel or Carter or Teal'c to not stop by at all; one of them always comes in and it's usually all three of them checking on me before lunch. Now I've eaten your poor excuse for a meal- which somehow manages to be even worse than the cafeteria food, by the way- and I've still seen neither hide nor hair of anybody this morning. So I ask again, what's going on?"
"What's going on is that General Hammond is making them work today." Oh, yeah, good one, Janet. And you were calling SG-1 cowards for not waking him up to tell him?
Jack raised an eyebrow skeptically. "The General's making them work." He pulled a face. "We ARE talking about the same people here, right? MY team, the founding members of Workaholics Anonymous? Who only admit that maybe they have a problem with working too hard when you wake them up at their desk and pull the papers off their foreheads?"
Janet managed to turn a giggle into a snort, but couldn't find it in herself to deny the veracity of the colonel's statement. Daniel and Sam both pull far too many all-nighters studying things they bring back. It really is hard to stop them from working.
Apparently, Jack had learned to read minds during his lengthy convalescence. "How many times have you helped drag one or they other of them away from their labs for food or rest? And weren't you the one that slipped Daniel a mickey to get him to stop working on stuff after that whole nasty Nem thing? Aren't you the same doctor heard to complain about the number of times they've drug their work in here to show me over the last month?"
Janet held up her hand to cut in on the tirade. "Alright, alright." She rubbed her forehead. "The General sent them off-world this morning."
"He did WHAT?"
"SG-2 made contact with a tribe on P7X-94Q but has been unable to have any meaningful conversation with them. As I understand it, there was very nearly a shootout. However, Ferretti managed to make it back to the Gate and request help from a linguist. He also asked for help from someone who knows about naquada. Well, the most qualified two people for those jobs are probably Sam and Daniel. And given the fact that your team was available and haven't been off-world in a month, the General assigned them to go help Ferretti."
"But, but..." Jack managed to shut his mouth before he actually blurted out They're MY team, realizing how stupidly possessive that sounded, but by the look on Janet's face, she could tell he was thinking it.
"Daniel's so accident-prone."
Can't argue with you there, sir, but "I'm sure Teal'c and Major Ferretti will be watching out for him."
"Do we know if these people, this tribe, know about the Goa'ulds? What if they see Teal'c and just start firing because he's a Jaffa?"
Jack's voice was so obviously worried that Janet nearly laughed. Does he really think the big guy is incapable of taking care of himself? I'd think people would see Teal'c coming and run the other way, just because he looks so imposing. "I'm sure Teal'c will be fine."
"But what about Carter? What if this is another one of those male-dominated societies where women are to be seen and not heard? Or to hide behind tents and veils and do cooking and laundry and nothing else? Or what if she blows herself up experimenting with the naquada? You know that stuff's powerful, but we haven't really been able to measure exactly how powerful yet."
"Sir." Janet's voice was firm. "I'm sure they'll all be fine. I know you'd really like to be out there with them-" here she was interrupted by a glare that said clearly, That's the understatement of the year-" but they are all able to take care of themselves, and they're with SG-2, so even if they run into trouble, there'll be plenty of people there to help."
Jack merely harrumphed. She could see by the set of his jaw that he was unhappy about his team going off-world without him, and most likely hurt by the fact that they hadn't told him themselves. In an effort to distract him, Janet decided to give him some good news.
"Well sir, while I'm in here, I might as well tell you that your PT today will be somewhat different from the last few weeks. I've given the okay for them to start you on crutches, and if that works well over the next 10 days, we'll fit you up with a walking cast and release you." Janet was disheartened by the lack of response. Jack had been chomping at the bit to get back on the crutches ever since his little escapade a few weeks ago, but suddenly it didn't seem to matter to him. She decided to leave him alone, at least for the time being.
two days later...
General Hammond looked up at the knock on his door. "Yes, Doctor?"
"General, I'm worried about Colonel O'Neill."
Oh, no! Not O'Neill! That man's worth every bit of the insubordination and sarcasm he spreads around so freely.
Apparently noticing how quickly the General's face morphed into a mask of worry, the doctor rushed to reassure him. "Not so much physically, General; his injuries seem to be healing satisfactorily. But his mood- his state of mind- it's gone straight down the tubes over the last few days since the rest of SG-1 went off-world."
"How so?"
"Well, he's been pestering me for two weeks to get on crutches and regain mobility, but then when he started with them in PT, Michaels reported he was completely apathetic about it. They've been within reach of his bed for the last two days, but he hasn't used them, except for a few trips to the bathroom. He'll pick up some of Carter's reports or one of Daniel's books that they left by his bed, and just stare at them. He's stopped talking to the nurses and he's not even complaining about the food anymore."
"He's not?" That's a warning sign. O'Neill is always complaining: the mystery meat in the cafeteria, the uncomfortable chairs in the infirmary, how overexposure to lab tests is going to make him glow in the dark one of these days, how all the hot water's gone in the locker room after SG-3's used it, the trees on the world he gated to, the sand on the world he gated to, the Jaffa on the world he gated to...
Janet was watching the expressions flit across the General's face. "I know. If he's not complaining about the trees, it's the lack of trees. Or the heat. Or the rain. Or Daniel touching something. Or Daniel being right. He never just stops.
"And that's what has me worried, sir. It's this unnatural quiet. About the only thing he's said to me since SG-1 left was worried what-ifs about each member of his team. He's busy worrying about them, worrying that something will happen to them and he won't be there to take care of them. But I'm beginning to think he may also be worried that they don't really need him. After all the times they've come home banged up and barely made it back, I think that the idea they might be okay, might even be safer without him, is eating at the Colonel."
Hammond raised his hand to cut Frasier off. "Major. You can't believe SG-1 is better off without Jack O'Neill."
"Oh, No, sir! But it doesn't matter if it's true or not, if it's undermining the Colonel's confidence in himself." She paused, swallowed. "I just thought that maybe if you could remind him of some of the good he's done, or of all the times he's brought the others home safely or saved their lives, or even just let him talk to his team through the gate, or something... it might help..."
thirty-seven minutes later...
General Hammond sat next to the bed. The man in it seemed nearly catatonic to his admittedly untrained eye. He hadn't saluted, hadn't spoken- hell, he hadn't even flicked his eyes to the side as his CO sat down next to him. The lack of response was frightening in the normally animated man.
"Jack?"
O'Neill started, actually shaking his head as he looked over and realized that general Hammond was sitting next to him. "Sir? I'm sorry, sir, I didn't even hear you come in."
Didn't hear me come in!
Jack looked at the General, who was just sitting there staring at him. "Sir?"
Hammond cleared his throat. "Er, Colonel O' Neill- Jack- I just came by to see how you're doing. I know you must be missing your team..." He paused, distracted by Jack's clenching jaw. "so I thought perhaps you'd like to come on up to the control room and say hello when they have their next scheduled check-in."
"That would be great, sir." Hammond tried to figure out the tone of that utterance: it wasn't really the colonel's normal sarcasm, not really- it sounded distinctly sulky and yet at least a tiny bit grateful. Along the lines of, 'That's the last thing I want, but if that's all I'm gonna get, oh-kay.' At the same time he tried to ignore the fact that his 2IC was refusing to look at him.
He's angry, Hammond realized. He's angry at me because I sent them off-world.
"Jack, I know you're worried about them-" finally a look, albeit of the 'No shit, sherlock' variety- "but they've been an enormous help to SG-2. Dr. Jackson has been able to figure out some of their language and start communications, and Captain Carter has already been talking about forming a trade agreement for the naquada. I really think they'll be okay on this one."
Jack snorted. It was good to hear that his team was okay, and helpful, and doing their jobs- quite well, by the sound of it- but he wouldn't believe they were safe until they were standing right in front of him. How many times had they thought that negotiations were going well, only to have something come up? Like on Altair, where we all got made into robots? Or on Argos, where I ate some funny pizza and ended up married and nearly dead of old age? Or on Cimmeria, where we were nearly Unas-meat even though Daniel was getting along fine with the locals?
Jack tuned back in to what his CO was saying just in time to hear him say: "And I know that your team seems to be rather good at attracting trouble, Colonel. You've probably been thinking about the time that we were trading for medicine with the Shavadai and Captain Carter got abducted. Or the time that Dr. Jackson was so enthralled with the knowledge thing that he nearly didn't make it through the Stargate in time, or when he got kidnapped by Nem because he understood cuneiform. Or the fact that the Byrsa wanted to kill Teal'c because he's a jaffa. And yes, you played a vital role in resolving those situations and getting your team home safe, but this time,"
"Sir?" interrupted Jack. "Are you trying to cheer me up or make me more worried?"
"What I was saying, Colonel, is that even though your team seems to find an exceptionally large amount of trouble, you always look out for one another and get each other back home."
"Yeah, because we did such a great job of that, leaving Daniel to be tortured by Nem for information."
"You were brainwashed, Colonel. And you- all of you- fought it, and then went back to get Dr. Jackson."
"What I'm saying is, I don't have such a great track record, General! What about on the Nox world? I got us all killed trying to capture Apophis!"
"Jack- son, you really need to go easy on yourself. There may have been a few times when your actions had an adverse affect, but hey are more than outweighed by the good you've done."
"The good I've done? What good?"
"Saving Carter? Saving Jackson? Saving Teal'c? Saving Dr. Littlefield? Fixing that mess on P3X-513? Saving Tealc's son? Saving Cassie? Saving the world from being blown up by a naquada bomb? Saving the Tollans?"
"Letting me experiment on you to find a cure for the disease of P3X-797 and in the process saving hundreds of people?" Fraiser broke into the conversation from the doorway. "You've done a lot of good, sir." She turned to Hammond, "And Major Samuels called to say that you have an important phone call waiting in your office."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Jack. They're due for a check-in at 1700."
the next day, around 0700...
The klaxon blared loudly; the red lights flashed. The man in the bed was wide awake by the third blerr; by the fifth he was sitting and reaching for the crutches propped against the wall; the tenth saw him galumping as quickly as possible through the infirmary door.
Dammit, I knew it, I just knew it! They've gotten into trouble and now they're hurt because I wasn't there to take care of them!
Jack was practically flying down the hall on his crutches, although he'd been bumped and nearly fallen down as a result twice. He came into the gateroom to late though; the blast doors were already shut. Fumbling around in his pockets for his key card, he realized he didn't have it with him. Then his heart went into overdrive as he heard, "Medical team to the embarkation room! 'Medical team to the embarkation room!" through the speakers overhead. He felt like pounding on the doors to be let in, but instead stepped sideways so that when the medics came with their gurneys, he could follow them in without being in their way.
He didn't anticipate the look of shock on Frasier's face when she saw that he was there ahead of her, nor the glare she sent his way, but she didn't physically prevent him from following her, so he did. When he saw that Daniel was sitting on the ramp with Teal'c behind him and a bloody leg stretched out in front of him, he started crutching to his side as fast as he could manage. Then he noticed that in addition to half of SG-2, Carter was being loaded onto one of the gurneys. She had blood crusted down across half of her face and a nasty bump on the top of her head. The doctor was shining that ever-handy penlight into Carter's eyes, and Jack was dismayed to realize that she wasn't answering Frasier's questions. He stopped behind Frasier and asked over her shoulder, "Carter, you okay?"
Well, that was a dorky question, Jack. Of course she's not okay!
Carter blinked. "Sir? when did you get to P7X-94Q?"
Jack laughed. "You're back at the SGC, Carter. Just rest, the doc'll take good care of you."
Carter blinked again, then noticed Janet. About time, thought the doctor.
Watching Carter relax back against the gurney as Frasier started speaking to her again, Jack decided she was in good hands and that she'd end up being okay. Just a concussion.
Jeez, when did it get to be JUST a concussion? Used to be a concussion rated as pretty serious. Leaning over Daniel on his crutches, Jack took a good look at the archeologist. "Well, Daniel, looks like someone took an exception to that pretty face. That's quite the shiner you've got there. And is that leg broken?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that the leg is broken- uh, sure hurts enough- and well, the bruises and scrapes aren't so much from the natives population being upset with us- although they are- they're from the rockfall and the earthquake."
"Earthquake?" Jack queried, shaken by the thought. People die in earthquakes.
"Yeah, Jack," Daniel's voice carried a note of supercilious teacher with a side helping of snarkiness, "you know, when the earth shakes and loose rocks come flying down the mountainside, followed by the boulders that used to be part of the mountainside and a big old honking crack runs right through the middle of the village and raises half of it up about twelve feet and makes everybody panic? I'm fairly certain they happen here on Earth, too, you may have heard of them before."
"I know what an earthquake is, Daniel, I was just slightly concerned that you'd been in one." Jack sighed. "You said the natives were angry, too?"
"Yes, well, apparently, earthquakes aren't a very common occurrence on P7X-94Q, so obviously, it was all our fault. And no, we can't come back and trade with them, it might cause the earth-mother to become angry again."
"Well, at least they didn't run you out of the village at gunpoint."
Complete silence fell as both Daniel and Teal'c pondered what they should say next. Unbeknownst to them, Jack was trying to decide if he should mention the amount of blood on Daniel's uniform, the way Teal'c seemed to be holding him up even though he was sitting on the ramp, and the fact that his face was so pale he looked like he was wearing beetlejuice makeup.
Fortunately, they were saved by Ferretti, who had made his initial report to Hammond, and now came over to "borrow the colonel" for a few minutes- in other words, he pulled Jack aside and apologized to him for letting his scientists get hurt.
"Do you think we should have mentioned the spears?" Daniel whispered.
"I do not."
"Yeah, we probably don't want to tell him we had to run all night over rough terrain to get back to the stargate ahead of them, either."
"I concur."
Daniel leaned back against Teal'c and closed his eyes. Thus, he was completely unaware of the way that Jack get shooting worried glances his way every time Feretti paused for breath. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes again and surveyed the gateroom.
"Do you think the medics are coming back? Janet said something about a gurney, but I don't see one. She's probably just distracted, right? So we should just mosey on down to the infirmary ourselves?"
An eyebrow quirked. "What is mosey?"
"Mosey means to walk slowly."
"I believe O'Neill calls that activity 'dawdling'."
"Yes, well dawdling can be similar, although that word really applies to any kind of time-wasting activity that puts one behind schedule, whereas 'mosey' is sometimes used when there is no set arrival time, and you're just not in a hurry because there's nothing to be late for."
"I still do not believe this mosey is a good idea, DanielJackson. As I said before, I do not believe that you should put any more weight on your injured leg than is necessary."
"Well, I believe I did say 'we' should go down to the infirmary. I was kind of hoping that I could lean on you again for a little bit."
"Indeed." The Jaffa stood, pulled Daniel up, and then wrapped an arm around his waist as Daniel slung an arm over his shoulder.
Neither of them noticed Jack watching them with a rather sour expression on his face as they left the gateroom in a three-legged shuffle, practically dragging Daniel's injured leg.
But as they walked down the hallway, Teal'c could not help mentioning, "I believe O'Neill would find this situation most humorous."
"Really? What makes you say that?"
"Because we are escaping our teammate by fleeing into Dr. Frasier's clutches."
Daniel's laughter caused several airmen to stare at them, especially when he began panting for breath and yet still seemed unable to stop chuckling.
four days later...
"Hah!" Daniel's voice was triumphant as he finished sliding down the handrail into the conference room, somehow managing to twist off at the end and land supported by his crutches and his good leg. The grin nearly stretched off his face as he stumped over to a chair and collapsed into it.
"Daniel?" The colonel's shocked and indignant voice came from the stairway that led up into the conference room from the control room. "How the hell did you beat me? You fell behind like four corridors back!"
Daniel looked like the cat with the canary as he leaned back in his chair. "Guess I'm just faster than you, Jack."
"Humph!"
Carter, covered her mouth with her hand, but was unable to completely stifle her giggles.
"Carter! You better not be laughing at me!"
"What in tarnation is going on here, people?" asked General Hammond as he entered the briefing room from his office.
Daniel answered while Carter was still trying to straighten out her face. "Jack challenged me to a race to get from the infirmary to the briefing, sir. But he's having trouble facing his defeat."
"Defeat! It's not defeat if one person cheats!"
"Cheat? Moi?" Daniel put on his most innocent expression. "I would never cheat."
Jack's face finally appeared at the top of the stairwell. "How else could you have beat me here without passing me? Clearly, you cheated."
"Um, no, I just took an alternate route. You may not have noticed, but I actually turned the corner as you were passing me, went up two levels, took corridor A-26 to cut across in a straight line instead of going around all those corners, and then came back down those stairs" he gestured to the circular staircase with a hand, "and thereby beat you here."
"You beat me by doing extra stairs. Nuh-uh. There's no way."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Jack!" Daniel rubbed his forehead. "I'm really good at doing stairs and I can make great time on the straightaways. That really is how I beat you here. Now, I think General Hammond would like to get to the point of this briefing."
Jack squinted an eye at him and flashed him a look that said clearly: this conversation is so-o not finished yet.
later that day...
Jack dropped into the chair across from Daniel and set his crutches on the floor, thanking Sam as she set his tray down for him.
"So, Daniel..."
"Yes, Jack?"
"How did you really beat me to the briefing this morning?"
"I told you, Jack, I just took a different way to get there than you did."
"And an elevator?"
"No, Jack."
"Daniel, I refuse to believe that you beat me by doing extra stairs on those crutches. It's just not possible for you to do those so quickly."
"Actually, Daniel Jackson has proven himself quite proficient at negotiating the stairs of this facility on his crutches." Teal'c broke into the conversation. "And the manner by which he descended the stairs into the briefing room this morning would prove to be a speed advantage."
"Yeah, I was rather impressed by that dismount myself. Don't know that I could do that."
"Dismount?" Jack's head swung around to look at Carter so quickly he nearly wrenched it. "Dismount from what?"
"Indeed, Major Carter. I am most curious myself as to how Daniel Jackson acquired that skill."
"I guess it's kinda like riding a bike."
"What is a bike?" "How?" "Huh?" All three of his teammates spoke simultaneously.
"A bike is a toy that children ride on, Teal'c. And people say that once you learn how to ride a bike, you never forget. That was what I was referring to, the fact that it's a skill I haven't had to use recently, but still remember."
"Okay, that sorta makes sense. But how'd you learn in the first place?" Sam wanted to know.
"Daniel? What skill are we talking about?"
"Daniel slid down the handrail this morning to get into the briefing room. And then at the end, he did this little jump-thing and landed on his crutches and his good leg." Sam explained to her CO.
"Oh, sliding down the banisters, eh? I doubt that's a skill you picked up as a little boy in Egypt. Where'd you learn that one?"
"School." Daniel said the word so low, Jack almost wasn't sure he heard correctly.
"Oh?" He over to Daniel to figure out what was going on, but Daniel had developed a sudden interest in the small chip on the edge of his plate.
"Well, Jack, let's just say that you're not the first person I've met who wasn't particularly fond of scientists and 'geeks'. And your way of expressing it is definitely nicer than some."
What? He doesn't think I still dislike now, does he?
Apparently the thought was broadcast by his expression, because Daniel answered as if he'd spoken aloud. "I know you don't feel that way anymore, Jack, but believe me, when we met, I wondered just how deep your dislike of scientists ran."
"Uh, Daniel," interrupted Sam, "even I'm confused as to how this relates to your ability to get around so quickly on crutches and slide down the handrails."
"Because my ability to get around on crutches is due to me being a geek. My first day of high school, I got thrown in the dumpster. Broke my leg. I was already younger and smaller than everyone else, so the only way to avoid the bullies was to be quicker than they were and not do what they expected. And those jocks never guessed that my magic ability to turn a corner and vanish had everything to do with going up or down the stairs quickly, instead of staying on the level I was on." Daniel finally looked up and was shocked by the expressions on his teammates' faces. Well, not Teal'c's, his face was as impassive as ever, but Sam looked like she was about ready to bust into tears and Jack's looked angry, no, make that furious. Geez, what'd I do now?
Holy Hannah. mused Sam. I guess I never realized how much being an officer's daughter shielded me. I got teased and stuff, but nobody would have even dared to throw me in the dumpster or hurt me physically. Geez, I wonder if Daniel's foster parents ever did anything about the bullying? Or if they even cared?
Bastards. What kind of jerk throws someone in the dumpster for being smart, brooded the colonel. Oh, alright, so maybe I handed out some noogies and teasing to the geeks when I was in high school, but I never hurt them. Definitely never put them on crutches. Jerks. I'd like to get my hands on those jocks and teach them a lesson.
"Jack?" Daniel's voice broke into Jack's reverie. Shit, he totally misread the look on my face.
"Geez, Daniel, how could you even think I'd be mad at you for something like that?" A flabbergasted Daniel showed Jack he'd called that one perfectly. "I was just thinking how much I'd like to go find the people responsible for breaking your leg and give them a taste of their own medicine."
"Indeed."
Daniel's head shot around at Teal'c's agreement. "Uh, thanks, guys, but that's really not necessary. It was a long time ago." But it makes me feel good to know that you care about me that much.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Jack once again broke the silence. "So, Daniel..."
"Yes, Jack?"
"I need a rematch. One that doesn't involve stairs."
"What, you don't want me to teach you how to slide down the banisters?"
Janet looked up from the choices on the serving line as a loud guffaw, followed by chuckling, came from the table where SG-1 was seated. Smiling to herself, Janet couldn't help feeling grateful that they were all enjoying each other's company so much. And anything that could get Teal'c's lips to curve upward at one corner- the closest she'd seen him yet to actually smiling- well, it must have been funny. Wonder if they'd let me in on the joke? I should probably check and see how Daniel's coping with his crutches, too.