Wayward Son

by JoaG

A *Teen Daniel* story that is not only AU, but takes place in a setting where Jack never becomes General, Daniel never ascended and Janet still remains part of the SGC.

1. Chapter 1

Wayward Son

By devra and JoaG

Authors' notes: This is an Alternate Universe story where Jack never becomes General, Daniel never ascended and Janet still remains part of the SGC. Characters may make cameo appearances in odd places where they didn't normally belong.

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He couldn't get rid of the odd taste of the mushrooms, but at least they weren't as bitter as the peyote. Pretty soon the aftertaste wouldn't matter. He paced from window to window, constantly checking his watch, staring down the driveway towards the street, on the lookout for Cassie's green Jeep. Needless to say, she was late again.

"C'mon, Cassie," he muttered. He knew he should have waited for her but he'd been impatient and had taken the mushrooms the moment he'd gotten home from school an hour ago, anxious to take advantage of a rare evening when his dad would be coming home late and his grandma wouldn't be babysitting. He checked his watch again. Cassie was thirty minutes late and the drugs would supposedly kick in anytime now.

He walked back to his bedroom where he'd placed a candle on a tray, the matches sitting next to the candle, ready to be lit. He'd stuck the meditative CD in his stereo already and dimmed the lights. Anxious that he was going to be doing this alone, he hurried out of the bedroom back to the living room, and pulled the curtains back to peek towards the street again.

No Cassie.

"She's going to kill me," he said to himself. Their agreement had been, she'd get the drugs for him, and he'd take them under her supervision. This was his fourth time; the previous attempts had been with peyote, but Cassie hadn't been able to get a new supply and she'd gotten him mushrooms instead.

So intent was he on staring out the window, he jumped when the telephone rang. He debated answering it, walking slowly towards it as it continued to ring. It could be Cassie, and then again, it could be his dad. He waited for the answering machine to pick up and immediately gritted his teeth when his dad's voice came through the speaker.

"Just wanted to check in with you and remind you that I won't be home until midnight. There's leftovers in the fridge, but if you and Cassie would rather have pizza, I left a twenty on the counter in the kitchen next to the phone.

"Don't forget your chores. You didn't cut the lawn yesterday like I asked you and I'm expecting you to have picked up your things from the den. I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you're going to live in this house with me, you will not turn it into a pigsty."

There was a long pause. "Look, talking to the phone is ridiculous. We're going to have to discuss what's going on with you. How about Saturday, you and I go out for a hike, have a picnic and talk about things like we used to, okay? Just you and me?"

Once his dad hung up, he felt overwhelmed with feelings of guilt. He loved his dad, of that there was no doubt. But if he told him what was really happening, his dad would have to tell Janet and then he'd have to talk to a shrink and he'd be locked up. Because how many people had nightmares about men and women with eyes that glowed?

The mushrooms had to work. He'd been trying to meditate, just like Teal'c had taught him, but every time he tried that, his nightmares got worse. He'd read, however, how peyote could accentuate the meditative effects and each time he'd tried the drugs, he'd been nightmare-free for just over a week. But the nightmares had recently gotten worse; the past two nights he'd dreamed of a fish that looked like a man that caused him great pain, and watched as his father suddenly grew very, very old. That had scared him the most, seeing his dad looking so frail and vulnerable and the feelings of helplessness that had accompanied it.

He pulled the stash out from behind his bed, next to his bedside table, and counted the remaining mushrooms. He was pretty sure he'd taken just under the prescribed amount; he'd weighed them and everything, but he was anxious because he'd never done this by himself. Cassie was his anchor and if anything went wrong...

He was thirteen, for crying out loud. He should be worrying about girls and school and soccer, and not about whether he was losing his mind. He wanted to talk so badly about this to Cassie, and had been hoping to do so tonight before the drugs hit his system, but no, she had to go and be late. Most probably she was out with Dominic. He wanted to lash out at her for her tardiness but he knew she'd gotten the drugs through her boyfriend and for that, he should be grateful. But they weren't even allowed to talk about the Stargate unless they were at the SGC – he giggled when the word showed up in his mind's eye as a whisper.

Okay, deep breath, he told himself. He needed to be calm. That was the whole reason for this experimentation. Thrusting the mushrooms back into their hiding place, he stood, and the room swirled around him, his light green walls leaving streaks across the windows.

"Oh."

He stood a moment, taking in the odd striations, then walked to his stereo and turned the music on. Soft drumbeats filled the room, their rhythmic percussions echoing oddly in his ears. He smiled as he turned to the tray and picked up the box of matches. He fumbled one out; the wood didn't feel like wood but like soft clay and he couldn't quite get a grip on them. Finally one of them stuck to his fingers and he struck it, and carefully brought it to the wick of the candle.

Immediately the room exploded in colors; small rainbows formed over the walls and windows, ceiling and floor. They shifted around on air currents, making delicate jingling noises that were a soft accompaniment to the shamanic drumbeat.

He dropped the match, watching it flare and then go out in a spectacular show of sparks next to the candle. Taking a deep breath, he forced his vision from the lightshow around him and concentrated on the flickering flame. He could feel himself swaying from side to side with each heartbeat, each thud vibrating through his chest and upper back, growing stronger and stronger with each pulse.

Using the methods instilled in him by Teal'c, he began to relax. The mushrooms were working, and he just knew he'd be dream-free after this. He couldn't help smiling as the flicker of flame grew larger and larger before him, like a red-tinged television set. Within it he saw that his life was a mockery, and everyone listening to him jeered. His best friend Corey, sitting in the front row of the auditorium, stuck his tongue out at him. Catherine Langford stared at him from the back of the room and shook her head in disgust. He tried talking faster.

"I don't know who built the pyramids." It was imperative he make them understand but nobody was listening. His classmates laughed and jeered, and someone, he thought maybe Tyler, yelled out to be careful, aliens were coming to abduct them.

Then the television screen changed from that fiasco of a seminar, and he saw his small circle of family: his dad, Sam, Teal'c, and himself, and they were all dead. Another Teal'c, sporting a ponytail, turned and aimed a long, metallic weapon at him and he ducked. His foot hit the candle and it went flying in a long, slow arc. The bolt of energy from the weapon flew out of the floating television screen and hit his arm. He screamed in pain. He had to warn them all. "They're coming," he screamed. "They're coming!"

He struck out at the red-haired demon with glowing eyes coming towards him, feeling his knuckles connect, and when the demon fell back, roaring in anger, he scrambled to escape. The floor tilted, trying to throw him off like a bucking bronco but he persevered, until he drew himself into a small cavity, hidden from view. He closed his eyes, trying not to see the pictures of the solar system as he flew past the planet Jupiter.

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Jack shifted his weapon, readjusting the position until its weight felt comfortable against his chest. He'd missed this, going out regularly with SG-1, but he'd been more or less sidelined over the past eight years – his choice, and no regrets – but it was on these few occasions that he missed his old life.

He watched the Stargate turning. Walter's voice echoed in the room, announcing each locked chevron. So when the Stargate suddenly shut down, he turned towards the Control room in confusion. What he saw there sent his stomach lurching into his throat.

Fraiser was on the phone, and even from down in the Gateroom, her expression conveyed that something bad had happened. He was running for the corridor even before Hammond ordered them to report.

"I know, sweetheart. Try and calm down." Fraiser glanced up at Jack, and her face was tight and white. He listened intently, trying to find out what had happened to Cassie.

Jack glanced at Hammond, who stepped closer to him. "It's Daniel," he said softly.

Jack's hearing dimmed and his vision greyed momentarily as Fraiser asked, "Did you call 911?" A large hand, gentle despite its size, gripped his shoulder and squeezed, anchoring him, and he was grateful for Teal'c's support. "Okay, when the ambulance gets there, honey, I want you to tell them to take Daniel to the Academy Hospital." There was a pause and Jack could hear Cassie's panicked voice coming through loud and clear. Her words were incomprehensible, merging one into the other over the receiver but apparently her mother had no trouble understanding her.

"How badly?" Fraiser's voice suddenly turned sharp. "No, do not go back in there. If Daniel's hallucinating, he may do more than punch you—"

"Daniel hit Cassie?" Jack swore. He wanted to be home now, and not thirty minutes away so that he could kick his son's ass to the curb. Fraiser's hand shot out, stopping him in mid-rant as she pressed her palm against his chest.

"Is he conscious?" Sobs were the only thing coming through the receiver now. "Honey, can you tell if Daniel's conscious?"

Jack held his breath.

"No, don't go into the room. If you can't see, I want you to stay well away from him."

"Doc?" Jack managed to ask during a lull in the conversation.

"I can't be sure, but I think it's drugs, sir."

"What!"

Fraiser winced, then motioned for him to be quiet. "The EMTs are there now, sir. Cassie, sweetie, I want you to take a cab and meet me at the hospital, okay? I don't want you to drive."

"Okay. I'm leaving right now." She glanced at Hammond, who nodded. His dismissal included SG-1, and they all ran down the stairs to hand over their equipment.

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No matter how many strings Jack pulled, no matter how many names he mentioned, there was no way the sour-faced biddy behind the desk was letting him cross the yellow line into the area marked Emergency.

"That's my son they just brought in by ambulance. I'm his father and I—"

"As I mentioned to you before, Colonel O'Neill, the doctors will call you after they've examined him—"

"The doctors, they have the paperwork I filled out on Daniel, don't they?" Jack jabbed a finger at the stack of papers covering her desk. "He has a ton of allergies—"

She made a show of shuffling clipboards. "I don't see it here, so I would assume that—"

"You do know what happens when you assume?" Jack growled.

"O'Neill!" The tight grip on his bicep was a warning that he was damn close to stepping over the line. "Doctor Fraiser is with DanielJackson. She will make sure to apprise all who are in attendance of his allergies."

He patted Teal'c's hand. "Thanks."

Carter tugged on his sleeve. "Let's go sit over—"

"Uncle Jack!"

The group turned as one as Cassie barreled into Jack and latched onto him. She was shaking, mumbling unintelligible words into his shirt, the material of which was quickly soaked through with her tears.

"Shush," Carter said as she smoothed down her hair. "It'll be alright."

Gently, Jack pried her hands apart and pushed her away from him, remembering part of Fraiser's conversation with her daughter. "What happened—ah, crap, Cassie, did Daniel do that?" His thumb traced the burgeoning bruise forming on her left cheek.

She ducked her head, her long hair covering the bruise. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."

"It's not fine. I don't give a crap what..." Jack swallowed, "...drugs Daniel took, there's no reason for him to hit you or anyone else. He's thirteen, for god sake, where the hell did he—"

Cassie opened her mouth then shut it, her gaze flicking around the waiting room.

"Come here, honey." Jack put an arm around her shoulder, guiding her to the bank of chairs against the wall. "Why don't you have a seat and tell us what happened."

Cassie sat.

Jack gave Carter the lightest of nudges and without words, she got the hint and took the seat next to Cassie, sitting as close as the plastic chairs would allow.

"It was an accident," she said, cupping her hand over her cheek. "Daniel didn't mean to hit me. It was my fault, I shouldn't have—" Cassie glanced up at Jack and Teal'c and dropped her voice to a whisper. "He was talking about people with glowy eyes, Uncle Jack. Daniel called me Hathor."

Shit. "Cassie?" Jack's voice was hard and he felt the sudden tension radiating from Teal'c.

"Sir, do you think... after all these years—"

"Not possible. Cassie must have misheard—"

"I didn't," she sobbed. "Daniel said—"

"Colonel O'Neill?"

"Yes!" Jack barked, pivoting to face whomever interrupted him.

"I'm Doctor Preston."

Jack deflated and stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry, Doctor Preston. I'm Colonel O'Neill."

"Would you mind coming with me? Doctor Fraiser and I would like to speak with you."

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"Normally your son's condition wouldn't require hospitalization," Preston began turning to Fraiser, "but seeing that he'd become violent, Doctor Fraiser's daughter did the right thing in calling an ambulance. He hasn't overdosed; he's simply experiencing a bad trip."

Jack clamped his mouth shut, concentrating on the way Fraiser wasn't quite meeting his eyes as she took up the explanation.

"We've ascertained he's taken Magic Mushrooms, and one of the more potent kinds out on the streets at that. The drug's effects usually last between four to six hours. So just keep in mind that his words may not make sense and he may be a little more emotional than normal for a few more hours.

"He was violent when he was brought in, babbling nonsense." Fraiser finally raised her head, giving Jack a frank look of warning, and he nodded tightly in understanding. This Daniel may not be with the Stargate program anymore, but he knew about it and chances were, some of his rants had been about top-secret things. "They had to restrain him until they could give him some Valium to counteract the worst of the drug's effects."

"So he's not in any danger?"

"No, sir. Not unless he does something stupid without supervision while under the influence."

"Right now I wouldn't trust him to put his socks on," Jack muttered.

"Cassie told me that Daniel had some sort of meditation tape playing, and candles in the room." She rubbed a hand through her hair, threading her fingers through the strands. "I know it's not an excuse, but it sort of sounds like he was trying to use the mushrooms to amplify the meditative effects—"

"No, it's not an excuse. He could have just asked Teal'c to help him out. Those two sometimes spend hours..." Jack sighed, hating the fact that Doctor Preston was in the room with them.

"Right now it's important to keep him calm until he sleeps it off. Keep the lights dim, talk to him, but don't upset him needlessly. The Valium should make him sleepy so that shouldn't be a problem. If you're going to bawl him out, wait until morning. At least then he'll remember what you're saying."

"Oh, you can be damn sure I'm gonna do just that. And then ground his skinny ass for the next ten years of his life."

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The room was dimly lit. Soft music was playing on the radio stuck in the corner. So here he was; music, dim lighting, talking... Well, he was managing two out of three; it was the talking Jack was having problems with. So he sat in the dark, on an uncomfortable chair, with soft elevator music adding ambiance while trying his damnedest to process everything Preston and Fraiser had told him.

"What the hell has happened to you, Daniel?" He reached out and touched one of the marks on his wrist caused by the restraints.

Daniel stirred, moaning and muttering in his sleep before settling down with a sigh.

Jack pushed a stray lock of too-long hair from his son's head. "What happened to my little boy, huh? When did you become this angry, unhappy young man?"

Daniel opened his eyes, his pupils large, capturing Jack's gaze. Even in the limited lighting, Jack saw they were so dilated there wasn't even a hint of blue. "Go home," Daniel muttered, sliding away from Jack.

"You're not going anywhere tonight, buddy."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Not me. You. You go."

Jack had the explicable urge to beat Daniel even more senseless than he already was. "Hate to tell you, but I'm not going anywhere."

Daniel's eyes slid shut. "Sorry."

"I bet you are."

Tears leaked from under Daniel's closed lids.

"You hit Cassie."

A second tear followed the first. "I hit her?"

"Yup." Jack was sure his anger and sarcasm was, for the moment, miles beyond Daniel's grasp. "You punched her really good. Gave her a—"

Daniel's face crumbled and he began to sob, as he had as a child. Quietly, shoulders shaking, his face averted from Jack's scrutiny. Suddenly, Jack couldn't equate this Daniel with the angry, rebellious teenager who'd been sharing his house for the past few months.

"Daddy..." Daniel coughed on tears then cleared his throat.

One word. That's all it took, and Jack's anger fled. "I'm right here, buddy." So as not to dislodge any of the tubes or wires snaking into Daniel's body, Jack cautiously lowered the bed rail and leaned over his son. He used the edge of the blanket, trying to capture the tears as they fell.

"I. Hurt. Cassie," Daniel hiccupped, his gaze flittering around the room. "Where is she?" He tried to peer over Jack's shoulder, struggling to lever his body up as though trying to get a better angle to see.

"Lie down, Daniel."

"No!" he shouted. "Where is she?"

"Downstairs, with her mom."

Violently, Daniel shook his head. "She's here in this hospital. In a bed... I hurt—"

"Stop it." Jack grabbed his arms, making sure to avoid the IV site. Anxiously, he glanced over his shoulder; the last thing he wanted Daniel to do was to draw more attention to this room. "Please, stop it," he softly amended. "Cassie'll be okay."

"Liar." Daniel spit the word into Jack's face.

"Not lying," Jack whispered. "I'd never keep anything like that from you."

Daniel melted, falling against Jack. "Promise?"

"Shush, Icky," Jack said, wrapping his arms around his son. "We'll work this out together."

Daniel sighed, rubbing his face on Jack's tee shirt. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

"No. I haven't." Icky. Short for Icarus. A name from the past that Jack had once, many years ago, thrown at a younger Daniel, and it had stuck. The wayward, carefree boy who'd traveled too close to the sun. Because he could, because his father had told him not to. Inquisitive, bull-headed, just like his son. Like Daniel of old. Once his best friend.

Daniel's hand with the IV latched onto Jack's tee shirt. "I'm so tired, Daddy."

"I know you are." Jack began to rock slowly. "Why don't you close your eyes and go to sleep?"

"I'm so afraid. Afraid to close my eyes."

"Dad's here. Nothing to be afraid of. Promise. I won't let anything hurt you." These were a-monster-under-the-bed words, not something he should be saying to his child who had ended up in the hospital after experimenting with drugs. But he didn't remember Dr. Spock or Dr. Brazelton covering this in any of their books.

"Will you always love me?"

Oh, crap, Icky. Were things that bad? Jack kissed the top of the long, sweaty hair. "Always. Fathers and sons never stop loving each other, no matter how close they fly to the sun."

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Daniel was dead weight in his arms, breathing heavily, his nose stuffed from his emotions leaking out all over the place. Jack had lost feeling in his arms a while ago, but he didn't stop rocking. Back and forth. The movement turning the clock back to another time, when the most difficult thing had been trying to get Daniel to eat his vegetables.

"Sir?"

Jack turned an incredibly stiff neck towards Fraiser. "Hey."

She laid a hand on Daniel's head. "I'd like to monitor his vitals."

"Okay."

Fraiser gave him a tolerant smile. "Take a break, Colonel."

Jack held Daniel a little tighter. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not asking you to leave him. I'm telling you I need to examine him. You need to take a break. Grab a coffee. Go wash your face. Talk to your teammates who are wearing a hole in the floor in the family waiting room. Then come back here. I promise I won't leave him alone. Let them know Daniel's—"

"He's not fine."

"No, he's not," Fraiser agreed. "But he will be. And so will you. In time."

Jack just hoped that they had enough time to fix this before irreparable damage was done. "Okay, you made your point." Slowly leaning forward, he lowered Daniel's limp body onto the bed, then sat up, his body creaking in protest. He stood, stretched, the popping sounds his back made as he straightened making even the doc cringe in sympathy.

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Jack walked into the family waiting room, honing in on the complimentary coffee and prepackaged muffins, ignoring Teal'c and Carter. He needed to take care of himself before he could take care of his friends. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the burner. It looked like sludge, and probably would coat not only the cup, but his stomach as well. At the moment, it was better than nothing. He skipped the powdered creamer, grabbed what looked like a chocolate chip muffin and sat on the chair closest to the table piled with outdated magazines.

Jack placed the coffee on a two-year-old Time magazine then struggled to open the plastic wrapping holding the muffin captive. Once. Twice. He was just about to chuck it across the room, when it was plucked from his hands.

"Allow me, O'Neill."

"Be my guest." Jack buried his embarrassment in the horrible coffee.

"Try this, sir, it helps." Carter handed him more packets of sugar than any person should have in a lifetime, never mind in a single cup of coffee.

"Thanks, guys," Jack said, opening up the packets. One by one, he began to methodically dump sugar into his coffee. The muffin appeared on a napkin, devoid of its wrapping. Jack looked up, his gaze bouncing around the room. "Where's Cassie?"

"Janet called Dominic to take her home." Carter sat on the couch next to him.

"Oh. She's okay?" Jack pointed to his face. "I mean..."

"DoctorFraiser advised CassandraFraiser her injury was treatable with a bag of peas. Though I am not sure I understand how a frozen vegetable—"

"Not now, T."

Teal'c nodded. "How is DanielJackson?"

Jack took a tentative sip of the coffee. He grimaced. All the sugar in the world wasn't going to help this. "How's Daniel?"

"That was my query; do you wish me to rephrase it?"

Jack shook his head. "No. Just trying to figure out how to answer it." He tried for a piece of muffin, which was horrible on a different level. Moist and plastic tasting, Jack began to pick out the chocolate pieces. "He's confused. Upset. Sorry. Scared. Terrified."

"What did Janet say?"

"Bad drugs. Bad trip. Damn it, he's thirteen years old. He's a baby. What the hell is he doing—"

"On Chulak, boys younger than—"

Jack jumped up. "This isn't Chulak," he yelled. "This is Earth. The Tau'ri homeworld, and Daniel isn't—"

"I did not say I was in agreement with this practice. I was simply stating this fact to illustrate that other boys DanielJackson's age have—"

"I don't care about other boys, Teal'c. Right now my only concern is my son who's lying in that hospital bed—"

"Sir—"

"—And who doesn't have a stinkin' sym—"

"Sir!"

Carter's voice pulled him from the rant back into the waiting room. "Shit." He grabbed his head, tugging at his hair. "Oy, this is not exactly a place to have this conversation. I'm sorry, Teal'c, you didn't deserve that."

Teal'c clapped him on the arm. "There is no need to apologize."

Jack shook his head. "Yeah, there is. You guys don't deserve me taking my anger out on you."

Carter took his other arm and pushed him back down into the chair. "As bad as the coffee is, sir, drink it. Eat the muffin. Teal'c and I will come back with something later."

"Are you bribing me?" Jack broke off a piece of the muffin, shoved it in his mouth, washing the pasty taste down with the coffee, then swallowed the lump. "Make it something good. Something Daniel would—"

Carter sat on the arm of the chair. "Daniel is a curious kid. He always was, even before he... got shrunk," she finished in a whisper. "This—"

"Are you telling me that doing drugs is Daniel's way of satisfying his curiosity?"

"Yes—I mean..." Carter didn't flinch under his seething gaze. "Yes, I believe that's why he took the drugs. Just like every other teenager."

"That's a copout, Major."

"That's reality, sir."

Teal'c said, "As a father, I would not lightly treat Rya'c's experimentation of mind-altering drugs."

Carter bristled. "I'm not telling the Colonel that this should be treated lightly, Teal'c. I'm trying to—"

Jack threw the muffin across the room, and it was only sheer luck it hit the wall and bounced into the garbage pail. Carter and Teal'c were shocked into silence. "Good. I have your attention. Look," he said. "It's not that I don't appreciate your two cents, but not now, okay?"

Carter and Teal'c had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"I must apologize, O'Neill, I did not mean to overstep my confines."

"Boundaries," Carter said, filling in the blanks. "Yeah, me too, sir."

Jack accepted their words with a nod, staring into the coffee. "You don't think Daniel remembers, after all this time?" He sat back with a groan. "Eight years? And now he—"

"Mission reports, sir. I'm betting Daniel has hacked into some computer somewhere or bribed Walter..."

"Not memories?" Carter's explanation was what he wanted to hear and believe, and he hated himself for grasping at whatever straws she was throwing his way.

"Not memories. Daniel's too curious..." Carter had the grace to blush, "...without asking someone."

"Yeah, mission reports. Makes sense." With a slap of his hands against his thighs, Jack stood. "Just have to add that to the list of things Daniel and I will be discussing."

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Fraiser was sitting by Daniel's bedside, humming softly along with the radio. Daniel was lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, a slight smile on his face as his eyes seemed to follow something up there that Jack couldn't see. Jack leaned against the doorframe, watching Daniel track some invisible thing down the wall and across the floor. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Fraiser as she stopped humming and stood to join him.

"He's been quiet." They both watched Daniel watch his invisible friend move back up onto the wall and cross from one side of the room to the other, stopping occasionally to simply stare into space.

"How much longer..." Jack waved at the bed and his obviously spaced-out son.

"Another hour or two. The effects should begin to wear off slowly."

"Any idea what he's looking at?"

"Rainbows, he said when I asked him. The drug apparently creates some pretty intense psychedelic hallucinations."

"Wonder if he'll find the pot of gold at the other end." Jack made a face. "I'd just settle for some answers."

"I know." Fraiser patted his arm. "I'm going to see what goodies they might be serving in the cafeteria. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Nah. Carter said she'd bring me something a little later. But thanks."

"I'm thinking you can both go home by midnight. Dr. Preston had been worried at first that the mushrooms he ate might have been tainted, but Daniel hasn't exhibited any symptoms of poisoning so as soon as he's lucid, you can take him home."

"Great." He sure as hell wasn't looking forward to taking Daniel home, because that meant he and Daniel were going to have to discuss some pretty unpleasant issues.

He sat down heavily in the chair, forcing it noisily back an inch on the linoleum tiles. Daniel turned lazily towards him and gave him a lopsided smile. So much for the tears and apologies earlier. Jack couldn't help but wonder if he remembered their conversation and his regret about hurting Cassie.

"What'cha looking at?"

Daniel's relaxed state disappeared, and the look on his face turned to nervousness. He turned away from Jack, looking back up at the ceiling, legs shifting restlessly, only to give Jack a quick, furtive glance which was so reminiscent of the old Daniel that Jack's heart skipped a beat. Nervously, he fiddled with the bandage that Fraiser had put over the recently removed IV site. In the past year, Daniel had grown a few inches and had lost his baby fat, and his face had taken on the more angular shape of his adult form. There had been a few times recently when a look or action had reminded Jack of the friend he'd lost. Those early days had been so hard, but then, look at what he'd gained.

He forced a smile, trying to make it genuine, pushing away the anger and disappointment when Daniel glanced at him a third time.

"Um..." Daniel swallowed and turned his gaze back towards the ceiling. "Colors. Kinda like the Aurora Borealis. They're really... pretty." Jack must have done a good job at hiding his true feelings, because Daniel kept on talking, his voice turning dreamy. "Sometimes there're faces looking through the colors, watching me watch them." He turned onto his side, facing Jack. "Sometimes they whisper to each other, thinking I don't hear them. But I do." He winked conspiratorially and returned to his ceiling-watching.

Clearing his throat, Jack was reminded of when Daniel was younger and made up stories and proudly related them to Jack. "What are the voices saying?"

"I dunno, they're talking ancient-gyptian."

The last word was mumbled, but Jack's heart skipped a beat. "What did you say?" There was no way this Daniel should know anything about The Ancients. Ferretti had never truly recovered fully from his ordeal with the face-sucking device; the only good thing out of the whole experience was that they'd found the little grey men who'd been keeping an eye on Earth and had become their allies.

"Ancient Egyptian." Daniel deliberately stretched the words out.

"Like Teal'c speaks?"

Shrugging, Daniel kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"So why can't you understand the voices?" Jack wondered if he should be pushing this; what he really wanted was to get to the bottom of the whole fiasco but he knew Fraiser was right. It was frightening to see his child staring in awe at something only he could see.

"The words... are odd... different... but the same... like French, and Italian, close, but not..."

"Did Hathor speak Ancient?"

"Who?"

"Hathor. Cassie said that you called her Hathor."

"I don't remember." Daniel turned his face away, his eyes tracking the invisible lights again.

"Where'd you come up with that name?"

"Hathor? She was a cow-goddess." Daniel's voice held contempt while his attention seemed mostly on the invisible show taking place on the ceiling.

"And you know this, how?"

"The book on Egyptian gods." Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion. "You gave it to me." He glanced quickly at Jack before turning his gaze upwards again.

"So, you didn't slip into the SGC's computers and try to look up files you weren't supposed to?"

"Upon threat of never setting foot there again? Dad, I'm not stupid."

So much for Carter's theory. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Daniel stiffened. Frowning, he looked around the room in short, agitated bursts, as if he were searching for something or watching something unpleasant... or frightening. "Dad?"

"What is it?" Jack leaned forward, not quite sure what to expect.

"Dad?" Daniel's voice rose in volume and there was a hint of fear. He scrabbled up towards the top of the mattress, shifting towards Jack. "Stop them. Oh shit, Dad, stop them. They're coming—"

"There's nothing there, Daniel." Reacting to the rising near-hysteria in Daniel's voice, Jack moved from chair to bed without thought and pulled Daniel into his arms. The thin body was shivering violently as he buried his face into Jack's chest. "You're just hallucinating."

"They want us, they want us. We have to get out of here." Daniel began to pull away, but Jack held him solidly against him.

"What? What do you see?"

"Snakes. Snakes, Dad, they want to get inside of us. Dad!" Flailing wildly, Daniel tried to bat the imaginary snakes away from them. "Don't let them get near your neck." With a strength belying the size of his too-skinny arms, Daniel grabbed Jack, pulled him forward and folded his arms around both their necks. Sobbing and panting, Daniel mumbled against Jack's throat that he'd protect them both.

"It's okay, Icky, it's okay. You're doing good." Speaking softly, Jack held Daniel close with one arm while he rubbed his back with the other. There was something sickeningly reassuring that Daniel chose to run to Jack for comfort even in the grip of a drug-induced hallucination, especially after the hard times they'd had the past few months. Jack whispered softly to him during the long minutes it took before he calmed down. Daniel's arms grew incrementally heavier as his grip loosened by the minute.

Having learned his lesson earlier, Jack eased himself back onto the mattress before Daniel was fully asleep. He mumbled something sleepily but came willingly, nestling against Jack with one arm still keeping hold around his neck. He opened his eyes once to look at Jack, his gaze unfocused, a small sliver of blue finally beginning to appear in the too-black irises. Then his eyelids slid shut and he relaxed, a dead weight, lying against Jack.

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Well, his remorseful and frightened child had woken up from his drug-induced nap and had returned to the belligerent, impatient and sarcastic asshole that had taken hold over the past months. Both of them walked in stony silence across the near-empty parking lot to the Avalanche, with Carter, Fraiser and Teal'c trailing a few feet behind.

Jack unlocked the doors with the remote and Daniel grabbed the passenger door and pulled it open. He slid inside but before he could slam it shut, Carter grabbed hold of it and held it open. Jack stood next to the driver's side door, leaning his forearms against the cool metal, reluctant to get inside and be alone with the stranger that had once been his son.

"You going to be all right?" Carter was leaning into the truck.

"Janet said I was okay. Isn't that why she let me out of the hospital?"

Jack tensed at Daniel's answer and he could feel the pressure against his temples begin to pound with the promise of a headache.

"That's not what I meant." Carter's voice was soft. "And you know it."

"If you want me to promise I won't use mushrooms again..." There was a rustling sound as Daniel probably shrugged. "I ate them all."

Anger flowed through Jack and he jerked the car door open. "Where did you get the drugs, Daniel?"

The reply he got was a stony glare.

"I should have offered this a long time ago." Carter put a hand on Daniel's knee. "But if you want to talk... about anything, anything at all... call me. Even if you don't want to talk and just hang out, you know, like we used to—"

"Yeah, sure."

Carter looked at Jack over Daniel's head, her eyes haunted. "You know I've always been there for you, I just wish there was something I could have done to help so that you didn't feel the need to go and get high."

Daniel was looking straight ahead, and Jack saw him swallow. He was obviously struggling to maintain the look of indifference, and before he could get himself fully under control, Carter swept inside, kissed Daniel's cheek, bade them both goodnight, and began walking towards Fraiser's car.

Teal'c leaned into the space Carter had just vacated. "Once you are recovered, you and I must talk. I have missed your company these past months." Daniel's eyes flicked towards Teal'c, but he didn't answer.

"Hey, why don't you two come over for supper on the weekend?" Jack asked as Teal'c straightened. He got a nod in reply and a smile from Fraiser. "You tell Carter she's also invited. And Cassie—"

Daniel's reaction startled Jack when he reached out to grab Fraiser's arm as she came closer to the truck. "Cassie, she's okay, isn't she? Dad told me... I think... I wasn't dreaming, was I? I hurt... Oh, God... Janet, I hit Cassie."

Fraiser didn't take Daniel into her arms; his body language obviously told her to keep her distance. But she did reach out and push a lock of too long hair that'd fallen into his face. He looked like a stranger, not quite himself, without his glasses.

"She'll be fine; although she may give you the bill for a pair of new designer sunglasses to cover her black eye—"

"Oh shit. Anything, Janet, anything. Can I see her? Dad, can we stop over and—"

"No, sweetie," Fraiser said before Jack could say the words himself. "She's gone to bed by now. I'm sure you'll see her at school tomorrow. And you'll see her when we come over—"

"But I wanted to tell her..." He sat back against the seat and brought his arms across one another, a posture Jack had rarely seen since Daniel had been turned into a child.

"She knows." Fraiser looked over Daniel's bent head, and smiled at Jack. "We'll see you soon, okay? And like Sam said, if you ever want to talk..." She stood and wiped her skirt down. "Well, it's late, and I still have to drive Sam and Teal'c back to the mountain. I'll see you tomorrow, sir."

"Night." Jack waited until Fraiser shut the door before starting the engine. Daniel remained in that same position, head lowered, not saying a word during the drive home. Jack didn't try to initiate conversation; that would be for tomorrow, when he'd calmed down a little more.

The lights were on in the house when he pulled into the driveway and he parked next to his mom's Santa Fe. Without a word, he got out of the truck and then stopped and waited until Daniel seemed to realize they'd arrived. Moving slowly, his son shuffled up the walkway and Jack wondered if the drugs were still affecting him.

The door opened just as they reached the first of the steps and Rose stood there, waiting. Without a word, she simply opened her arms and with a tremulous "Grandma," Daniel stepped into her hug.

Jack maneuvered around them into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him as Daniel buried his face in his Rose's neck. Jack squeezed past them and went into the kitchen to grab a beer, then leaned against the wall, watching as she slowly rocked Daniel from side to side.

"You wanna go to bed?" Rose asked in a soft voice. Daniel's reply was unintelligible but it must have been in the affirmative because she let him go, and with one arm still around Daniel, walked with him to his bedroom. Daniel turned to look at Jack as he passed him, and for a moment Jack saw uncertainty and fear reflected back at him, then the mask was back and the hardness Jack had come to see in Daniel's face returned. He stood there, drinking his beer, listening to his mom talking to his son as she got him ready for bed.

He stepped back into the kitchen after draining the bottle, then went to Daniel's room, stepping through the door just as Daniel, clad in tee shirt, shorts and socks, was sliding under the covers which his mom was holding up invitingly for him. When Daniel grabbed her hand and tugged, she sat on the edge of the bed and smiled down at him.

Daniel's defenses were down at that moment and he looked younger than his thirteen years. He lay on his side, obviously trying not to cry, and despite the quick glances he threw his way, Jack knew Daniel was trying to ignore him. He had the feeling Daniel would break down if he were to show any sign of either comfort or anger towards him. At this point, Jack didn't know what his son wanted, or what he himself wanted. His brain wanted to lash out at him now, while he was this vulnerable, but his heart wanted to take him into his arms and protect him for the next twenty years of his life. So he did what any intelligent father would do; he let his mom take care of the problem.

"Do you want me to stay with you until you go to sleep?"

Daniel nodded, sliding his legs up towards his chest, making a small lump under the blankets. Rose leaned over and kissed Daniel's forehead.

"Everything will be okay, mhuirnin. It'll all look better in the morning. Are you going to school tomorrow?"

"He's got an exam," Jack said gruffly.

"If he's sick—"

"He's not sick. If he's hung over, then it's too damn bad."

He ignored his mother's pressing of her lips together, a sure sign she was angry at him. He watched as Daniel's eyelids began drooping and after a few minutes, it was obvious he was fighting sleep, something he used to do a lot when he was younger. But the events of the evening, combined with the remnants of whatever drugs were still coursing through his system, plus the late hour, finally caught up to him and his eyes closed, and stayed closed.

Rose stood slowly and adjusted the blankets. Jack waited, and when Daniel didn't move from her fiddling, stepped up to the bed. After pushing back the thick hair from Daniel's forehead, he placed his lips to the warm skin, wishing he knew what he'd done wrong in bringing up Daniel.

"I love you, Icky." The words came easily now, unlike the early days when his best friend had been changed into a five-year old boy, confused, exhausted, frightened and without any memories of his life before or after the alien device had transformed him. Child-Daniel had been so easy to love despite Jack's fears of raising another son.

"There's fresh coffee," Rose whispered as he flicked off the light. As they stepped out of the bedroom, he left the door ajar, just in case.

Sitting at the kitchen table, fortified with a piece of cake and a cup of coffee, Jack lowered his face into his hands and sighed deeply. "Do you think there's any chance he might confide in you? Because he's sure as hell not planning on talking to any of us."

"Not after tonight, I don't think so." Rose got up from the table and reached up into one of the cabinets. From behind a stack of rarely used bowls, she pulled out a small baggie that held a handful of long stemmed mushrooms. "I found these hidden under his bed when I was cleaning up the mess in his bedroom." She handed the drugs to Jack, who rolled them around in his hands.

"How the hell did he get his hands on these? Who does he know that... no, strike that. There are probably dealers by the dozen in his school. It's just that I never thought he'd... I thought he was happy. Up until a short while ago, I would have sworn that he was happy. Hell, for all I know, he's been taking this stuff for months."

"I did some research while waiting for you." She took his cup and without even asking, refilled it with coffee. "By the way, Daniel's laptop is on its last legs." She walked to the fridge and added cream. "The mushrooms apparently aren't addictive. That I find hard to believe, but I'm guessing they're not as bad as say, cocaine or marijuana."

"If he'd taken them with some other kids, I'd have said it was peer pressure." He accepted the coffee and took a sip. "But Daniel certainly doesn't have the type of personality to give in to peer pressure, and he was alone when he took them. Hell, he waited until the night I was going to be away and—"

"Wasn't Cassandra coming to stay with him since I couldn't come?"

"I'm sorry you missed your bowling party, and damn it, you're right." Jack stood abruptly, the chair sliding noisily on the ceramic floor. He'd taken several steps towards the phone when he realized it was too late to call. "Do you think Cassie knew? Because Daniel wouldn't be so stupid as to try and take drugs while I was in the house. But Cassie?"

"Do you want me to call Janet in the morning?"

"No, I'll do that when I get to work. I think young Cassie Fraiser may have some 'splaining to do."

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The large stone hovered over the top of the pillars, rocking just enough to make one of two persons standing underneath it a little nervous. "Jake, it's swinging a bit."

The couple standing beneath the large piece of stone were hauntingly familiar to Daniel. He knew how this dream was going to end, he'd experienced it several times already and he didn't want to experience it again. He knew he was dreaming and he couldn't pull himself away from the horror he knew was going to happen in a few more seconds.

It wasn't just the shock of seeing strangers killed in such a horrible fashion; it was the agonizing loneliness and confusion that followed their deaths. Isolation and abandonment, which he didn't totally understand but which wouldn't leave him for hours whenever he had this particular dream.

This time, however, just as the chain holding the stone snapped, he startled awake, gasping in shock and fear and reaction. Images and feelings flooded through him, as if the dream itself had been more, and this, only a small chapter of a larger nightmare. It took him several minutes to realize that he was remembering some of the hallucinations he'd seen in his mushroom-induced stupor and confusing it with this latest nightmare.

Thankful for the small sliver of light coming through the open door from the hallway, Daniel sat and pulled his knees close to his chest, curling up against the chill in the room. He shivered as he heard low voices coming from the kitchen - so his Grandma was still here.

The Magic mushrooms had done exactly the opposite of what he'd been trying for. The hallucinations had been more vivid than usual; the visions more real, as if he'd truly lived through them. He wondered what he'd been seeing when he'd hit Cassie. He had no memories of her coming into his bedroom; the last thing he remembered clearly was waiting for her and then waking up in the hospital, strapped down to a bed.

There was no way he was ever going to take these particular drugs again. He slid out of bed and getting down on his knees, reached for his hidden stash. He was going to flush them right now, before his dad found them, and this way he could swear on a guilt-free conscience that there were no more mushrooms and that he'd never, ever take them again.

He groped underneath the bed, coming up empty. Confused, he slid onto his stomach and peered underneath, and his heart caught in his throat when he realized that other than a few dust bunnies and one Cracked magazine he'd misplaced, there was nothing there.

"Oh, shit. Grandma's gonna kill me."

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The last thing Daniel wanted to do was go to school; he was exhausted, felt like he could sleep for a week and had no energy. Yawning, he rummaged clumsily through his closet, searching for his favorite jeans.

He stepped into his pants and as he zipped the fly, he realized that his feet were sticking out abnormally. He glanced down and swore. Either the jeans had shrunk, or he'd grown another inch since the last time he'd worn them. In a fit of anger, he jerked them down, stepped out of them and kicked them across the room. They landed on the pile of books he'd been reading for the past several hours in an attempt to stay awake so he wouldn't dream again. He grabbed another pair of jeans, ruing the soft, worn cotton of his favorites and jerked the newer, stiffer pair on instead.

Sitting down warily at the kitchen table, Daniel glanced at his dad but he didn't bother looking up from the newspaper he held in front of him. He grabbed a box of cereal his dad had put out, poured milk over it, and contemplated his breakfast.

Pushing the soggy cereal from one side of the bowl to the other, he made small piles, watching while the flakes slowly disintegrated into mush. His father wasn't talking, and Daniel was afraid to open his mouth, unsure of his dad's reaction to anything he'd say.

He felt extremely foolish at having gotten caught; he'd thought he'd be able to handle just about anything, including the effects of the drug – obviously he'd thought wrong. He was weak, he couldn't control his nightmares and now, he'd lost control in front of everyone he cared for. But worst of all was that he knew he'd disappointed his dad, both because he'd done the drugs, and because he refused to talk to him about the reason why he'd felt he needed them.

"You better get going, or you'll miss your bus."

The normalcy of his dad's voice had him looking up at him in surprise. His dad was sitting across the table from him, newspaper folded neatly with the crossword puzzle exposed, breakfast barely touched. Daniel met his father's gaze and held it, swallowing at the sudden tightening in his throat. He nodded, stood, grabbed his uneaten breakfast and dumped it down the kitchen sink. His schoolbag was on the floor next to the door and as he grabbed it, his father followed him out of the kitchen.

"Good luck on that exam."

One hand on the doorknob, Daniel simply nodded. He stood still and held his breath as his dad came closer and cupped the back of his head. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he should tell his dad that he was afraid he was losing his mind. Maybe he couldn't do this by himself and needed to be locked up for a while, until he got better.

"You do realize you're grounded, don't you?"

Daniel nodded within the confines of his father's surprisingly gentle hold.

"You're coming straight home?"

Again, he nodded. Maybe he should talk to his dad. Maybe he should let his dad take care of everything. He was about to open his mouth to say something, when his father's words sent all thoughts flying.

"Good. I'll be home early tonight."

His dad didn't trust him. Daniel knew, deep down, that he didn't deserve his father's trust but the words hurt. He clamped his lips together to stop himself from flinging back a retort. He pulled the door open and stepped outside, flinging his backpack against his back so hard that he was sure he left bruises.

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Daniel trudged up the block, legs heavy, body wanting nothing more than to crawl back home and fall into bed, despite the awful fear he had of dreaming. He got to the corner just as the school bus was pulling up and he climbed in and sat down heavily on a seat. He fished his cell phone from his bag and hurriedly speed dialed Cassie before his friends arrived.

"Daniel! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He wanted to apologize, but the words suddenly wouldn't come.

"Are you sure? Mom looked really worried last night and you..." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "You scared me to hell, Daniel."

"I scared myself, Cassie," he managed to say in a whisper. "Look... I'm sooo sorry about what happened. I never meant to hurt you. I don't even remember—"

"I know. Mom said you probably wouldn't. It's okay. It doesn't hurt." Daniel could hear the lie in her voice. "But you just... you were sitting there in the corner of your room, crying... Don't you ever do that to me again. Ever."

"I promise. I don't ever want that to happen again. But I need you to do something for me. I need the other stuff—"

"No! I told you I don't ever want anything like that to happen to you—"

"And it won't. The other stuff was better, Cass. Please, you have to ask—"

"I can't. Daniel, I can't." She was nearly in tears, and Daniel felt anger surge through him. She'd promised to help him. "You won't even tell me why you wanted the drugs. I can't do this. I think mom suspects. I don't want Dominic to get into trouble. I don't want to get into trouble."

"Your mom knows?"

"She was talking with your dad this morning. They wanted to know why you took drugs knowing I was coming over. It's like they knew I knew what you were doing. Mom asked me if I'd noticed any signs that you'd taken drugs before this. I denied everything, but I think she knew I was lying. Damn it, Daniel, why didn't you wait until I came over last night?"

"You were late."

"And you were high. Not like the peyote. You were so fucked up, you had no idea where you were, who you were. You said you knew how much to take, and you overdosed—"

"I didn't—" Realizing his voice had risen, Daniel whispered the next word, "—overdose. I just had a bad trip."

"I don't care. If you want to kill yourself, fine, but don't ask me or Dominic to help you do it."

"Cassie, please. I need... I have to try the other stuff again. Please."

"No. And don't ask me again."

She hung up on Daniel, and the dial tone was loud in his ear. He turned his cell off and threw it into his backpack, wondering how he was going to get the peyote now. He didn't think he'd be able to last till the weekend if he didn't find some way to get some uninterrupted sleep.

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Thankfully, the exam was first period and he aced it. Half-asleep, the words blurring in front of his eyes and he aced it. Younger than all of his classmates, Daniel outshone them in all of his classes. To Daniel, learning had been a sport in which he'd excelled. Like soccer. A well-rounded kid, accepted by the geeks and the jocks, and a wunderkind to boot.

Until recently.

Daniel turned over his paper and resisted the urge to drop his head down on his desk and close his eyes. He was so tired. A full night's sleep was a thing of the past. His concentration was shot to shit and his appetite was non-existent. His grades were dipping also, enough to raise the eyebrows of the teachers when they handed him back his homework or tests, but not enough to draw his dad's attention. Yet. It was only a matter of time.

And his soccer career was in its death throes – too many missed practices coupled with his sullen attitude had earned Daniel several warnings. He loved soccer and once upon a time, he'd been good at it. But that was before. Before the nightmares, and before the growth spurt, which now left him feeling uncomfortable and awkward in his own body.

The bell rang and he tossed his completed paper on the teacher's desk, ignoring the teacher's reprimand to slow down. He had exactly four minutes to catch Cassie, whose second period classroom was right next to his.

"Cassie," Daniel yelled, skirting around students in his way until the last student wouldn't move.

"Could you please—oh hi, Dominic, can I please..."

Daniel had gained inches this past year, but Dominic was taller and outweighed Daniel by a good thirty pounds, which he was using to his advantage by blocking Daniel. "No. You can't." He poked Daniel in the chest. "I don't want you talking to her in school, looking at her, or even acknowledging her presence." Dominic leaned into Daniel, whispering in his ear. "And if you dare tell anyone where the drugs came from—"

"Fuck you," Daniel hissed. "What are you going to do—"

"Stop it." Cassie wedged herself between the two of them. "Dominic, don't you dare say who I can and cannot see, got it?"

"He hit you—"

"That's between me and Daniel. Not between you and Daniel, understand?"

Meekly, Dominic nodded but the 'I told you so' smirk was wiped off Daniel's face as soon as Cassie turned towards him. "Because of you, because of your impatience, I'm probably going to be grounded until I'm a senior in college." She lifted the sunglasses to show Daniel his handwork.

"Oh, god, Cassie—" He reached out to touch the bruises, but she dropped the sunglasses into place.

"Remember this, Daniel. But better yet, I want you to remember how much I love you and how much you scared the crap out of me. I thought you had—"

The bell rang, long and loud.

"Do not ask me about the peyote, again," Cassie whispered in his ear. "Because if you do, I'm going to go to your dad."

Daniel was left standing in the hall long after the late bell rang.

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Because Daniel was an excellent student, the teachers turned a blind eye when he transgressed and was late for class. Or missed a homework assignment. Or cut a class completely, because he never had. So the school librarian, Mrs. Dotterman, just looked up and smiled at Daniel instead of questioning why he was here instead of in his last period class.

"Can I help you, Daniel?" Mrs. Dotterman asked as she walked past him, pushing a cart of books.

"No. No, thank you, Mrs. D. I'm, ummm—looking for books on psychotropic drugs. It's for a Health project. Can you point me in the right direction?"

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The table Daniel sat at was as far away from Mrs. Dotterman's desk and her prying eyes as he could get, though under the ruse of working on a Health project, he was pretty sure he wouldn't arouse any suspicions as he took notes on mind-altering drugs.

Daniel worked until the bell rang, then put the books away, shoved his notes into his backpack and left the school with the throng of other kids. Head down, he walked towards his assigned bus, ignoring his surroundings.

"Hey, Daniel."

He jerked, suddenly aware and turned to the person tugging on his arm. "What the hell—oh hi, Tyler."

"I think that blonde lady over there is trying to get your attention." Tyler pointed to the lane of cars. "See?"

Daniel glanced in the direction Tyler was pointing.

Sam gave a quick wave the second they made eye contact.

Damn, there was no way now he could get on the bus.

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Daniel settled in the passenger seat, his backpack and all the incriminating evidence it contained tucked between his knees.

"You can throw your backpack in the backseat if you want."

"No, that's okay."

Sam started the car. "I just thought it would give you more leg room."

"I'm fine."

She shot him a glance.

Daniel sighed. "Really."

Sam reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "What I said last night, about always being here..."

Daniel looked out the window, jealously watching all the people getting on the buses. Milling around the parking lot. Laughing. Just recently, he'd been a part of all that. His biggest care in the world had been fitting in schoolwork and soccer. Now he was as far removed from them as night and day. Maybe it was more than being envious of their lives, maybe Daniel was angry. He flopped back into the seat with a grunt. "If you don't get out of here before the buses leave, we'll be stuck here for a while."

Sam didn't move the car.

"Are you waiting for Cassie?"

Sam blinked at Daniel, as if Cassie hadn't even figured into the equation. "No," she stuttered. "I thought you and I could maybe spend some time together. Talk."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Sam, but pretty much all of yesterday is one big blur. I don't remember any conversation with you or anyone else, for that matter."

"Oh."

He could tell she was hurt by his abruptness. "I'm sorry," he grumbled.

She turned the motor off and swiveled awkwardly in the seat to face him.

Daniel turned his gaze back out the window.

"I would never judge you, Daniel."

He pointed out the window. "See, there goes the first bus, now we have to wait for all the buses to pull out—"

"We're—I'm worried about you."

Daniel traced the outline of the third bus with his finger. "Did my father put you up to this? Picking me up in the car? Driving me home?" he asked wearily.

Sam restarted the car. "No, he didn't. I thought that maybe you and I could—"

Daniel's vision blurred and through the veil of unshed tears, the outside scenario resembled an abstract painting of colors and indistinguishable images. Afraid to trust his voice, he remained silent.

"I'm here for you, always."

Daniel just nodded.

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Daniel had his seatbelt off before Sam pulled up to the curb. "Thanks."

"Whoa, wait."

One hand on the door handle, with his back to her, he waited.

"If you ever want to talk. About anything. I promise I won't say anything to your father."

Daniel looked over his shoulder. "I doubt that, Sam."

"Daniel..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her reach for him. "Bye," he said, opening the door, grabbing his backpack and sliding out. "Thanks for the lift." Daniel slammed the door before she could continue the conversation. He hesitated, just for a moment, before taking a deep breath and shuffling up the walk.

Sam drove away just before he noticed his grandmother's car in the driveway and he hurriedly spun around and waved his arm, hoping Sam would notice; but she continued driving down the block unaware of Daniel's plight.

Now what? Sam. She would respect his silence. Give him space. Patiently wait for him to make the first move. His grandmother? She would chip. Chip. Chip away at him, until he finally broke down.

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Daniel stared at the glass of juice and the sandwich in front of him. His stomach growled noisily, reminding him that the breakfast he hadn't eaten had been hours ago and that he'd skipped lunch. Tentatively, he took a bite, chewed and swallowed.

"Eat, mhuirnin," Rose ordered.

Daniel felt like he was caught in that stupid kids game of hot potato. Being passed around from person to person. Sam. His Grandma... until his father came home.

His stomach growled again, the meager bite had only served to remind his belly how empty it was, and he tried another bite, larger than the first, but this one got stuck in the lump in the middle of his throat, and he hurriedly reached for the glass of juice to wash it down.

"Do you want something else?"

Freedom. Peace of mind. A good night's sleep. "No, Grandma." He gave her a peck on the cheek as he stood, grabbing both his plate and his backpack. "I've got some homework to do."

"Do me a favor, before you start your homework, could you carry the basket of laundry downstairs—"

Daniel bristled. Having his grandmother here to baby-sit was bad enough, but to have her washing his socks and boxers? "I can do my own laundry."

"Of course you can. And I have no intention of doing your laundry, or your father's. My washing machine is on the fritz, so I'm borrowing yours until the lonely Maytag repairman can make a visit."

Daniel stared at his grandma. "You didn't come here—" He shook his head, the heat of his mistake coloring his cheeks. "Never mind."

"Come here for what, honey?"

"You know... to keep an eye on me?"

"I trust you've learned from your mistakes?"

To not get caught? To be more selective with his drug of choice? "Yes, I have."

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Daniel was drifting, he could feel his eyes close and his body begin to slump to the side. Once. Twice. By the third time, he pushed his chair away from the computer desk, grabbed the plate of cold grilled cheese sandwich and walked out of his room.

His grandmother was sleeping in the recliner, an opened book in her lap. Daniel crept into the kitchen, dumped the sandwich in the garbage, the plate in the dishwasher and got a bottle of Snapple from the fridge.

The blinking light on the answering machine caught his eye even before he opened the top. The first message was from someone trying to sell them a satellite dish. The second message was from his soccer coach asking Daniel to call him back. Daniel deleted those two messages and let the machine run to play the one saved message. The saved message was yesterday's news. A verbal lashing from his dad regarding responsibilities, etc. and his finger hovered just above the delete key, waiting for the message to play out.

"Look, talking to the phone is ridiculous. We're going to have to discuss what's going on with you. How about Saturday, you and I go out for a hike, have a picnic and talk about things like we used to, okay? Just you and me?"

'Just you and me'. Part of Daniel was relieved that his father was forcing his hand and part of him felt like dead man walking, knowing that once he revealed his nightmares, his life as he knew it, would never, ever be the same.

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His dad came home early, just like he'd said. Daniel could hear his grandma and father talking in the kitchen but he was sitting on his bed reading, caught between actual sleep and awareness. Too comfortable and way too lazy to get up. He rested his head against the headboard and glanced at the ceiling, giving his eyes a rest.

Huh? Daniel blinked. Then blinked again. An array of multi-colored lights spun over his bed, like a baby's mobile. For a second he panicked. With his heart pounding in his chest, he believed he was experiencing an aftereffect of the mushrooms, a flashback, but these lights were different. The way they moved seemed strangely familiar and Daniel squinted overhead, trying to understand and unravel their mystery, because for some strange reason he knew there was a message in those lights.

"Hey, Daniel."

Daniel jumped, the book sliding off his lap and onto the floor with a thud. "Dad." He fumbled around, bent over the side of the bed and picked up the book, almost afraid to look towards the ceiling.

His dad sat at the foot of the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Daniel was pretty damn sure he hadn't been sleeping. Sleeping people weren't aware of conversations going on. Sleeping people couldn't feel the weight of heavy books in their laps, or headaches or gritty eyes that would no longer focus. "Dad, I—" He was going to dispute his father's claim that he'd been sleeping, but that would mean admitting to something he wasn't ready to face, that the nightmares had crossed into Daniel's waking reality.

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Jack and his mother watched as one as Daniel slid out of the booth and shuffled off to the bathroom.

"He didn't want to come."

Jack slammed his menu shut. "I wasn't leaving him home alone."

"I would've been happy with a scrambled egg. A piece of toast."

"No one's going to be a martyr because Daniel screwed up."

"I'm not being a martyr, I'm being a grandmother."

"Mom, it wasn't like Daniel took his bicycle and rode to your house without telling anyone. We spent last evening in the hospital because he experimented with drugs." Jack jabbed his finger in the direction of the bathroom. "He gave Cassie a pretty damn impressive black eye." Jack flopped back against the booth. "I'm losing him and I have no idea why. He won't talk to me. Or Carter. Or Teal'c... Did he talk to you?"

Rose picked up her menu and hid behind it.

Jack leaned over and pushed it down to the table. "Mom?"

"Daniel didn't want to come out to eat. He's exhausted."

"I know," Jack said softly. "He doesn't sleep. I hear him walking around the house at all hours."

"Do you get up? Go to him?"

Jack averted his face. "I did. In the beginning. Made him hot chocolate. And it worked for a while, but now..." He shrugged. "Even at three AM, Daniel finds it impossible to be civil to me. So it's easier to stay in bed."

"Easier for who, Jack? You?" His mother shook her head. "I never knew you to give up."

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"Why did you order a burger deluxe platter if you weren't going to eat it?" Jack's appetite had slowly diminished as Daniel moved his uneaten food from one side of the plate to the other. He tossed his napkin over his own uneaten food.

"Shush," his mother said. "Just get the waitress to wrap it up to take home."

"I don't want to take it home." Daniel pushed the dish across the table.

"You'll take it home—"

"And what? You'll make me eat it for breakfast? Lunch?"

"Can it, Daniel," Jack ordered. "Keep your voice down."

"I'm done," Rose said, opening her purse and tossing two twenties on the table. "You two can continue to fight it out. Dinner was my treat so Daniel doesn't have to bring it home if he doesn't want to."

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Jack caught up to his mother in the parking lot, just as she was opening her car door. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Daniel brought up the rear, passed by Jack and enveloped his grandmother in a hug. "Me, too," he said. "Please don't be angry."

"Never, mhuirnin," she said, patting his bent head.

Jack didn't miss the tears in the corner of his mom's eyes and he walked over and planted a kiss on her temple, while his hand rested on the nape of Daniel's neck. "Come on, son. Let your grandmother go home."

Daniel stiffened under his touch. Jack sensed it and obviously, so did his mom.

"Would you like to come home with me, Daniel?"

Slowly, Daniel lifted his head and his glance shifted from his mother to Jack.

"No, he can't. He has school tomorrow."

She repeated the question as if Jack hadn't spoken. "Want to come home with me and sleep over? I'll make pancakes in the morning. You can sleep in."

Daniel hesitated and Jack was positive Daniel was going to disobey him. "Not tonight, granny," he said. His smile was sad. "I have school tomorrow."

His mother's smile was just as sad. "I know."

Daniel shrugged and stepped back. "Maybe next week?"

"Maybe next week for a couple of days," she amended. "Would you like that?"

Daniel glanced at Jack and nodded.

"Maybe during Thanksgiving vacation," Jack offered.

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"Why can't I sleep at Grandma's house?"

They hadn't even made it out of the diner's parking lot.

"You have school tomorrow."

Daniel flopped back against the seat. "I don't feel good, I'm staying home tomorrow."

"No," Jack said, looking both ways before pulling out into traffic. "You're fine."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Fine, that is. Except for a case of obnoxiousness, stubbornness and stupidity, you're fine."

"I'm not stupid."

"This time yesterday you were in the hospital recovering from the effects of a hallucinogenic drug. If that's not stupidity, I don't know what is."

"I said I was sorry," Daniel yelled.

"Prove it," Jack yelled louder. "Show me you're sorry."

Daniel stayed silent.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Jack prodded.

"I hate you," Daniel answered. "There I said something. Happy?"

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Jack listened as Daniel spent the night walking the floors while he spent the night lying in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the fuck had happened. When had he become such a hard-ass? What came first, his hard-ass behavior or Daniel's attitude? Chicken or the egg? Jack used to be fun. A rule breaker. What the hell happened to him? When had he become... his father?

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Jack turned off the alarm minutes before it was set to go off, threw back the covers and stumbled into the bathroom. He would be able to grab a few minutes of peace and quiet with the paper and his coffee before he had to wake up Daniel.

With two cups of coffee, the sports page and two slices of toast under his belt, Jack felt awake and aware enough to drag Daniel out of bed.

"Daniel?" Jack opened the bedroom door. "It's time to—"

"Five minutes," Daniel begged without opening his eyes. He curled into a ball, his hand patting the bed, looking for the blanket. He found it just as Jack was stepping into the room to help.

"I got it, Icky." Jack unrolled the twisted mass of quilt, chuckling over the state of Daniel's bed. "Five minutes."

"Five," Daniel repeated, curling the blanket around his body. In his sleep, Daniel reached under his pillow and grabbed a brown, barely distinguishable, well-loved stuffed animal, tucking it under his chin.

"Holy shit." A smile bloomed on Jack's face and he walked over to the bed to pet the stuffed toy on the head. "Hey, Lumpy, it's been a while."

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Daniel looked down at hands that didn't belong to his body. They were older hands. Calloused and rough, but oh so familiar. They seemed to be covered with a type of... He brought them up to his nose and sniffed. Flour?

"Dan'yel."

Daniel turned toward the voice calling his name, and the hands followed.

She was beautiful. Exotic.

Daniel opened his eyes. "Sha're," he whispered. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture this dream. There had been endless sand dunes and oppressive heat, but it felt safe. He had felt safe, safer than he had in a long time.

Turning onto his side with a groan, the sound of crinkling paper had him opening up his eyes again. He found the source and pulled it out from under the covers. "Lumpy? How the hell did you..." He had vague memories of digging through his closet during the night, unsure of what he'd been looking for until he'd found his old favorite stuffie. Tied around Lumpy's neck was a string with a piece of legal pad paper attached.

Daniel sat up in bed, reached for his glasses, stuck them on his face and began to read the note.

Lumpy reminded me that sometimes there are more important things than going to school. Like sleep and staying overnight at your grandma's. I'm sorry. I'll be home around five with Greek and after dinner we'll go shopping for the weekend.

Love, Dad

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This dream's good feelings stayed with him most of the morning and Daniel caught himself smiling and looking forward to spending Saturday with his dad. Maybe they both needed some time away, even if it were only for a day.

Around twelve he made himself a sandwich, and brought it down into the den. He flipped through the channels, shaking his head over the poor choice of daytime television selection, allowing himself to get sucked into a soap opera until commercial break.

He stretched out on the couch, closed his eyes, the remote slipping from his fingers and falling to the floor as he relaxed.

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He never made it up the stairs. Daniel never even made it into a sitting position, he just vomited right where he lay on the couch, losing his lunch and breakfast all over himself, the couch, and the floor. In misery, he hugged himself, puke and all, as he tried to hold himself together. He was freezing. Teeth chattering, unable to get warm.

He had stepped into the middle of a puddle of water. Enclosed in a giant circle. With symbols around the outer edge, and it had been cold. Freezing cold. And best of all, it had been amazing - like the best roller coaster ever invented.

It was something he knew existed, a well-kept secret that only he and Cassie knew outside his dad's work – something he'd always dreamed of doing. Something he had consistently begged Cassie in whispered pleas over the years, to tell him how it had felt, because he had no memory of doing so himself.

He had traveled through the Stargate in his dream.

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In slow motion, he cleaned up the couch and the floor, opened a window to air out the room and stripped off his clothes and threw them in the laundry. He jumped into the shower, gagging at the still lingering smell of vomit that clung to his body. He was fried. Done.

He was shampooing his hair for the third time when he heard it.

"What fate Omoroca?"

"Huh?" Daniel rinsed the shampoo from his hair, squinting under the spray of water.

"What fate Omoroca?"

Daniel slipped and fell in the shower, an ungainly twist of arms and legs as a horrific image of an upright fish man stepped into the shower to join him.

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Barely dry, Daniel left a trail of wet footprints from the bathroom to his bedroom. He dumped the contents of his backpack on the bed, grabbed the notes he'd made in the library, and went into his dad's bathroom.

He compared the myriad of pill bottles with his list and settled on two, fingered them for a long time, and put the bottles neatly back where they belonged. His safety net. He couldn't meditate the dreams away, so maybe he'd find solace in another way.

Just in case, Daniel kept repeating. Just in case. A bottle of Vicodin. A bottle of Ambien. Painkillers versus sleeping pills. Euphoria versus sedation. His last resort. Talk. He was going to talk to his dad. A little hiking. A little bonding. A lot of talking. And if the talking didn't work, he'd have this to fall back on.

He made sure everything looked the same before shutting the medicine cabinet and returning to his room. Grabbing Lumpy, he went to sit on the couch and wait for his dad.

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Daniel made a concerted effort to make small talk with his dad, but all he was getting was one-word answers in response, so he remained silent and picked the meat out of the gyro.

"Daniel?"

"The gyro's really good."

"I'm glad," his father said with a nod.

"Did you have a bad day at—"

"I got a call from your history teacher."

"Mrs. McCarthy? Why did she call—"

"You failed your test."

"No, I didn't." Daniel gave a little smug laugh. "I didn't fail that test."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, she must be mixing me up with someone else."

"You got a thirty, Daniel."

"No," Daniel insisted, "I aced that test."

"You didn't answer the essays."

Daniel could feel the hot flush working its way up his body. "There were essays? I don't remember any essays."

"No kidding." His dad closed the Styrofoam container. "You cut class on Thursday and Tuesday—"

"So what's the big deal? You didn't wake me up today and you let me play hooky."

"It's not the same thing—"

"Oh, right. So it's okay for you to say I can skip a full day's worth of classes but I'm in deep shit because I failed one exam and cut two class—"

"I have a meeting with the principal on the 15th. They're talking about sending you back to grade level."

"What? No! Please. I promise." This couldn't be happening. "It was one time. I didn't see the essays. I'll take the test again. I'll write whatever reports she wants. I'll stay after school—"

His father's fist slammed onto the table. "Stop it. Just stop it, Daniel. Stop making promises you refuse to keep. Stop lying to me. And just accept the consequences of your actions." He stood up and tossed his whole dinner in the garbage. "Is it so hard to talk to me?"

"Is it so hard to listen to me?"

"Yeah, it is when you're continually lying to me."

Daniel was out of sorries. He honestly didn't remember seeing the essays and he really had nobody to blame but himself for having been so confident. Or so damned tired. Maybe if he could sleep, maybe if he could get rid of the damn nightmares—

"Put your shoes on, we're going to the store to shop for—."

Daniel was taken aback. "You still want to go hiking with me?"

"Hiking? What are you talking about?"

Daniel pointed to the answering machine. "You said..." Daniel had to swallow the golf ball sized lump in his throat. "You said," he repeated, "that you wanted to talk. To me. And that we were going to spend Saturday—"

His father's face remained stony as he looked at Daniel in confusion. "Crap. Well, it's too late now. I've invited everyone over so we're committed to the barbeque."

"But you wanted to talk," Daniel said in a small voice. Their time together had seemed like a lifeline to him and he couldn't believe his dad had forgotten about it.

"Okay, so we can talk in the truck," his father said over his shoulder as he shoved the leftovers into the refrigerator.

All hope gone, Daniel sat back sullenly, arms crossed against his chest. "I'm not going."

"Oh yes, you are. Go put on your shoes."

Wishing he had the guts to stand up to his father when his dad was in this mood, Daniel stood and noisily shoved the chair behind him before stomping out of the kitchen. He grabbed his iPod from his bedroom, shoved his shoes on his feet and stomped outside, breathing heavily as he slammed the front door behind him. He stood by the Avalanche, looking down the street as he waited for his father to come out and unlock the truck for him.

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With music blaring in his ears, Daniel could pretend he couldn't hear anything his father said. He sullenly walked five steps behind him and the cart, turning to look at the nearest produce whenever his father asked his opinion for something.

He watched his father's stiff back, half-wishing he could throw something at him and half-wishing he could jump onto the front of the cart and have his dad race down the aisle, like he used to do when he was a kid. When had his dad stopped caring? He used to be able to talk to him about just about anything, except for his work. And even then, like Cassie, he knew things about Cheyenne Mountain that most adults had no inkling about what was going on in that old missile silo. He knew so many secrets, and none of them could help him.

Realizing he'd lagged behind, he shuffled along the aisle and turned the corner, where he spotted his dad at the meat counter ordering steaks. Daniel continued forward, detouring past the meat and chicken and stopped at the fish counter. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and studied the shrimp and fillets laid out in all their slimy goodness on trays of chipped ice. A particularly disgusting mess of eels drew his attention, their shapes almost familiarly different...

One eel raised its head and spread its hood as it hissed at him. As if it were a signal, all the others rose up, hissing and milling about, their hisses and high-pitched squeals almost deafening over the sound of his music. Daniel looked around anxiously, trying to gauge the reactions of other customers in the store but nobody seemed to be paying attention to the fish that were no longer dead.

Okay, he could do this. Breathe, he'd just breathe, look cool and relaxed and would simply walk away from the hallucination. He wouldn't attract attention, and maybe if he didn't look at the eels, they'd just go away.

Then one of the eels sprung from the display, jumping over the glass and landing on the floor with a wet plop, squirming towards him. Daniel backpedaled quickly out of its way and, forgetting his own advice, ran in a panic towards his dad.

It was the fact that nobody else seemed to notice the fish that stopped Daniel from gripping his father's arm like a little kid. He glanced back towards the fish counter and all the eels appeared to have returned to their former dead state, without the odd-looking hood around their heads. The only thing he could hear was the music blasting in his ears.

Daniel ripped the buds from his ears, shut down his iPod and pocketed it while leaning against the cart, close enough to his dad that he could press against his back if he only moved forward an inch. He eyed the fish display warily. He remembered vague images and feelings of fear that the eels had attacked his dad before, and he vowed to stay close, just in case it truly wasn't a dream. And maybe, just maybe, his dad would be there to protect him, too.

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When the butcher handed over the wrapped pile of meat, Daniel quickly stepped forward and grabbed it before Jack could. He watched in surprise as Daniel carefully rearranged the products in the cart to make room for the steaks, giving Jack a quick, nervous glance as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

The iPod was gone from his ears and he peeked over Jack's shoulder at the list in his hand. "We don't have any corn on the cob."

Jack stared at his son, wondering how he'd suddenly turned from Mr. Hyde back into Doctor Jekyll. He noted the pallor that accentuated the few freckles on Daniel's face and the shadows under his eyes. Were these signs that Daniel was addicted to drugs, or that he was exhausted and something more sinister might be going on? Maybe he needed to drag Daniel back to the hospital, or even better, the SGC's infirmary, where Fraiser could run a battery of tests on his son just to rule out illness.

"Dad, corn?" Blue eyes stared at him in confusion.

"Um, yeah. I was gonna pick some up from the market on Friday, along with salad fixings."

"Oh, okay."

Jack pushed the cart and Daniel was right there with him. Jack went straight to the last items they needed. "Want to grab some chips?"

"Sure. What kind?"

"Get a couple bags. Doesn't matter."

Although Daniel didn't quite run to make his choices, it was obvious that he seemed to feel a need to hurry back to Jack, arms laden with four different bags of potato chips. He dumped the chips into the cart and walked again right by Jack's side. He couldn't help but glance at his son, who was doing some covert peeking at him also. Something had happened, and Jack had obviously not only missed it, he had no idea what had brought it on in the first place.

Daniel was helpful at the checkout counter, dragging the filled bags into the cart and insisting on pushing it to the truck. As Jack pulled out of the parking lot, he thought about their argument over supper and considered he might have been just a tad hard on the kid. And he had promised to go hiking with him so they could try and bond and get Daniel to open up. Of course he'd made the alternate plans after spending several hours in the hospital watching Daniel go through one of those traumas one never wants their children to experience.

Since Daniel had had such a change of heart, maybe tonight Jack could entice him to watch a movie with him, and maybe his old son would try to come back to him. He glanced at Daniel, who was staring out the window, lost in thought, eyes at half-mast, and suddenly wondered if maybe Daniel had taken some pills or drugs back in the store, which had caused the sudden shift in personality.

He listened with half an ear to the radio, swallowing back a curse when the weather report predicted rain for the coming weekend.

He waited until they stopped at a red light.

"Daniel?"

"Hmmm?" Daniel blinked and yawned as he turned to look at Jack.

"How about a movie tonight?" He looked carefully at Daniel's eyes, but they looked clear and normal. Actually Daniel just looked tired and sleepy, nothing more.

"Yeah," he answered enthusiastically. A slow grin spread over Daniel's face. "We got plenty of snacks to go with the movie," he added with a soft laugh.

"Hey, you eat everything and we'll have to come back to get refills."

Relieved that his son seemed okay, Jack swore to hold his temper in check and that they were going to enjoy their evening together.

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Daniel couldn't help sighing at the sight of his dad on his knees, peering behind the television set. One hand pressed the cell phone to his ear while the other followed the myriad of wires coiled behind the entertainment unit. "Yeah, that wire's plugged into the DVD and the other end is plugged into the..." He paused, swore, then followed the wires again through the contortions they'd worked themselves into. "I don't know, Carter, you tell me. The DVD was working fine the last time we used it. So why isn't it working now? I didn't touch a thing."

"Maybe it's the batteries," Daniel suggested for the tenth time in the past two hours.

And for the tenth time, his dad ignored him and began pulling the wires out again and repositioning them. With a sigh, Daniel tossed the remote onto the couch and got up to look for a new set of batteries. With his dad still grumbling over the phone with Sam, Daniel replaced the batteries, aimed it at the DVD player, and smirked when the power came on.

"Hey! I guess you were right, Carter. It was a loose wire." His dad eased out from behind the entertainment unit and gave Daniel a thumb's up while he stared proudly at the lit power light on the DVD. "Thanks for the help."

Daniel fiddled with the remote as he watched his dad push the entertainment unit back into its proper position. With a flourish, he popped the new DVD out of its case and dropped it into the DVD holder, then joined Daniel on the couch. He picked up the TV remote, pointed it at the television, and both of them sat there staring at a blank screen.

Without a word, Daniel got up and went to the kitchen for a snack while his dad picked up the phone and speed dialed Sam again.

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"Sorry about the movie." His dad was leaning against the bedroom door.

Daniel shrugged as he pushed his laptop aside. "It's okay. We can watch it another night. That is, if the TV is..."

"I think I got everything working again." His dad gave him a lopsided smile. "How about we go to BestBuy tomorrow night and see if we can find a new game for your PSP?"

"Sure." Daniel tried to drum up some enthusiasm but sadly missed the mark. He'd rather have spent the evening watching a movie with his dad instead of watching his dad curse at the DVD player. And then the last two hours, it had been his turn to swear at a recalcitrant laptop which had decided to operate at a speed that was slower than a cyber crawl. It was starting to look like all the electronic equipment in the house was slowly having a breakdown, just like his mind.

"Don't stay up too late." His dad motioned to the laptop. "We'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

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Daniel longingly fingered the widescreen laptops, dreaming of owning one someday. He slowly walked from one to the other, reading the descriptions, picturing the expensive laptop sitting on his bed while he played his favorite online games on it.

Sighing regretfully, he placed his fingers on the keyboard, trying out the feel of the laptop. The keys felt perfect, as if they were made for him. He glanced at the price tag and knew his dad would never get him one of these because the three year-old laptop he owned was still functional. Barely. Maybe it was time that he asked Sam to have a look at it, see if she could boost some power into it.

"Daniel."

Hearing the familiar voice calling his name, Daniel suddenly froze. Then, as Corey Maddison joined him, he had no choice but to acknowledge his friend. "Hey, Corey."

"Hello, Daniel."

"Hello, Mrs. Maddison." Corey's mom was holding a couple of DVDs in her hand. She peered at the laptop Daniel had been playing with. "Wow, that one's pretty impressive. Planning on buying a new computer?" She turned quickly to her son, who was eyeing the laptop eagerly. "And no, don't you get any ideas."

"No, I was just looking," Daniel said mournfully.

"But my sixteenth birthday's coming up in a few months," Corey whined.

"Eight months is not a couple of months, Corey." Mrs. Maddison's raised eyebrow could have given Teal'c a run for his money, and had the same sobering effect on Corey. "It's kind of hard, isn't it?" She smiled at Daniel. "Every time I come in here, I'd love to walk out with a bigger and better TV or a shinier and faster computer. Unfortunately," she sighed, "money doesn't grow on trees. It's bad enough I have to get more of those." She pointed to the boxes Corey was holding.

"Wii controls," Corey said with a grin as he balanced the boxes, trying to show Daniel.

"You'll be coming this weekend, Daniel? You did invite him, didn't you, Corey?"

Daniel felt a cold sweat begin to drip down his back. He hated being put on the spot. "Um, yeah, he did, Mrs. Maddison, but... I..."

"Invited where? Afternoon, Gina."

"Jack. How are you?"

"I'm great, thanks. You? Steve?"

"Oh, we're fine, thanks. We were busy remodeling one of the bathrooms. It's incredible how such a small room can cause such a mess."

"Yeah, I can imagine. I haven't seen Corey around lately." His dad turned to Corey and smiled at him. "You and Daniel have a fight or something?"

"N... No, sir," Corey stammered. "It's just been, you know..."

"So, you didn't tell me what you got invited to, Daniel."

"Um, Corey was having a sleepover on the weekend." Daniel turned to stare at the laptops, wishing they'd never bumped into his friend.

"Yeah. We're having a Harry Potter marathon tomorrow night. Mom's buying all the movies, and then we're going to the theatre to see the latest movie on Saturday."

"That sounds like fun. What time do you want Daniel to be there, Gina?"

"Dad, I can't—"

"Why not?"

"I have things I need to do... and there's the barbeque..." He could feel the blush spread down his cheeks and the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted to do was sleep over at Corey's. What if he had a nightmare again? There? At the Maddison's? His friends didn't understand, couldn't understand. Nobody could.

"Jack, if Daniel doesn't want to come, it's okay."

"No, Gina, actually it works out perfectly because I have to work on Saturday so he can spend the day with you rather than at his grandmother's. That is, if you don't mind watching him."

"You're working?" Daniel hissed at his dad. "What about the barbeque?"

"No, of course I don't mind. We've missed you, Daniel. You haven't been over in a while. I'm really glad we bumped into you today." Mrs. Maddison ruffled Daniel's hair and he ducked his head in embarrassment. He never minded when she did that whenever she'd babysat him but not in front of his dad. It made him look like a kid. "You can come around six, Daniel. The kids are going to order pizza for supper so you don't have to worry about eating first."

"He'll be there. Can I have a word with you for a second?" His dad pulled Corey's mom several feet away and Daniel just knew what he was telling her. Keep an eye on Daniel, make sure he's not taking drugs, make sure he's not—

"Why don't you want to come over tomorrow?" Corey looked angry and hurt, and Daniel felt even guiltier.

"I dunno."

"You've been avoiding me on purpose."

"Corey, I..."

"Do you know what they're saying about you in school?" Corey's lowered his voice so that nobody else could hear them, especially their parents. "That you took some drugs and went to the hospital. Is that true?"

Daniel didn't know what to say. He stood there, shocked that the news had gotten out. He wanted to lie to Corey, but his friend knew him so well that he'd know it. "Yeah, it's true," Daniel finally admitted. He glanced over at his dad and Mrs. Maddison, who were both talking in hushed voices. His dad looked over at him and Daniel quickly glanced at the floor.

"What? It's true? Do you know I told everybody it was a lie? That you'd never take drugs. Jeez, Daniel, you made me look like an idiot."

"I never asked you to defend me," Daniel snapped.

"I thought that's what friends did," Corey hissed back.

Daniel bit back the insult he wanted to say, and instead, spoke softly. "Corey, I don't know what to say. I... I had to do it."

"So that's why you don't wanna hang with me anymore. You found better friends, huh? Friends that can get you high? What's gotten into you? I don't know you anymore."

"I don't do drugs, Corey." The bottles of pills in his dad's bathroom didn't count, he hadn't taken any yet, and maybe he would never have to. He wasn't an addict; he wasn't taking the drugs to feel better. Pills were medicinal, weren't they? They were supposed to make you feel better, and he wanted, desperately, to feel better again. "It was just one time," he lied, "and it was a mistake. Anyways, I think maybe now your mom won't want you to hang out with me anymore." Mrs. Maddison looked angry, and Daniel walked away from Corey and began looking at the video cameras. His hands were shaking and he'd never felt so embarrassed.

He felt someone come up behind him and he tensed, expecting it to be his dad. "We'll see you tomorrow night, okay?" Mrs. Maddison said in a gentle voice as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Daniel nodded, fighting back a lump in his throat.

"Good. We'll have movies to watch, games to play, food to eat, and just plain fun." She gave his hair a quick ruffle again and called out to Corey to come with her. Maybe Mrs. Maddison might be willing for him to stay over at her house, but he had a feeling Corey might never understand.

"I don't want to go." Hands in pockets, Daniel walked beside his dad. He'd lost all interest in shopping and deliberately didn't point out the game section to his dad as they walked towards the cash register.

"That's too bad. I've already made the arrangements."

"I thought I was grounded."

"You are. You're staying with Gina and Steve tomorrow and Saturday because I'm working."

"I can go stay with Grandma."

"Your grandmother has plans. This way she doesn't have to break them."

"You told Grandma you were working on Saturday, but not me?"

"It came up suddenly. I called her before I could commit."

"Then I can go stay with her since she said yes."

"No, Daniel. You're going over to Gina and Steve's."

"What about the barbeque?"

"It's going to rain. I postponed it till next weekend."

"But—"

"That's enough. End of discussion."

Daniel pushed past the line of shoppers and shoved through the doors angrily. Once outside, he stomped a few feet past the doors and waited for his dad, fighting back the tears that had been threatening for the past couple of minutes. When his father came out of the store, Daniel accompanied him back to the truck, both of them wearing invisible veils of uncomfortable silence.

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It was worse than he'd expected. Everyone here in the Maddison's home had once been his friend. Now, they were strangers, more or less ignoring him, talking amongst themselves, roughhousing with one another when not watching the movie. But he could feel their eyes on him whenever his back was turned, and conversation stopped whenever he walked into the room. Never before had he felt the age difference between them and him. And he felt he was the oldest one of the group, not the youngest.

Frustrated, wanting nothing more than to have things the way they were before he started losing his mind, he left the movie and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Immediately the inane chatter in the living room stopped and he was pretty sure the only people talking were not Harry Potter and his wizard friends.

He stared out the window, watching the slowly darkening sky, the music from the movie's soundtrack filling the kitchen.

"How's the movie?"

Startled, Daniel nearly dropped the glass of water, spilling some on his shirt before he righted the glass. "It's fine." He forced a smile for Mrs. Maddison.

"Are you hungry? Do you want some pizza? You hardly ate tonight."

"I'm fine." She looked unconvinced, and he tried the smile again. "Really."

"How about some chips? Popcorn?" She reached into the pantry and took out two large bags of potato chips and opened one. That one she placed next to Daniel, and then busied herself with other snacks. He picked up a single chip and took a small bite, savoring the taste of oil and salt. "Would you mind giving me a hand?"

Immediately Daniel grabbed the bags of chips while she brought in bags of popcorn, Twizzlers, pretzels and other goodies he couldn't quite make out.

As he put the bags down at either end of the living room, he realized he had nowhere to sit, as his friends Christian, Li and Nate were sprawled on the couch, taking up all available space. He hesitated, unsure what to do. Where just a month ago he wouldn't have hesitated to throw himself on the couch and laughingly push one of them aside, their attitudes were cold now, and none of them even looked his way.

"Daniel."

Corey pushed his pet lab off the loveseat and patted the space next to him. The dog made to jump back on, but he pushed it away. "C'mon, hurry, before Cassidy jumps back up."

Daniel stepped over the large, blond dog and sat nervously next to Corey. The material was warm from the dog's body heat. He pulled his feet up, hugging his knees and was trying to focus on the movie when Corey nudged him in the ribs. Startled, he nearly dropped the bag of chips Corey forced into his hands.

"Ripples, your favorite. Mom bought these especially for you."

Daniel took a large handful of the wrinkled chips before passing the bag on to Benny, who was half sprawled over the ottoman.

"Oh, this is my favorite part." Corey nudged Daniel again and stole a chip from the bunch held loosely in his hand. "Watch, this is incredible. I wish we could fly around on brooms like that."

For several minutes, Daniel ate his chips and watched the movie unfold, hardly daring to breathe while Corey commented to him on it. Then when Corey got up to snatch the bag of pretzels from Li and threw it at him, Daniel knew things were back to normal. He laughed, grabbed some and threw it back. Several pretzels fell out of the bag as Corey caught it, and Cassidy quickly gobbled up the mess and then came looking to Daniel for more, licking his lips hopefully.

"No, you don't," Daniel laughed, raising the pretzels out of the dog's reach. Benny pounced on Daniel at that moment and he screeched, dropped the pretzels, and a second later, the two of them were wrestling on the living room floor, laughing and yelling while Cassidy tried to catch the pieces of pretzels spilled amongst their limbs.

"Okay, that's enough." Steve Maddison's voice quickly cut through their mirth and chastened, both boys climbed back onto their seats, the evidence of their wrestling match quickly obliterated by the large dog. "The next one who decides to wrestle in this house is going to find himself cooling off outside in the rain."

Daniel grinned at his friend's father as he reached for more chips. "Yes, sir." He knew the man's warning was as good as his word, but that didn't prevent him from poking Benny in the ribs the moment Mr. Maddison left the room.

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Daniel's earlier reservations were gone as he sprawled on the loveseat, sated with junk food. The third movie was playing, and by now all their rambunctiousness had evaporated due to the late hour. Daniel was sleepy and was only paying partial attention to the movie. His thoughts were drifting, and he found himself nodding off a couple of times.

He forced himself to sit straighter, but ended up sliding back into the same lazy position after a minute. Despite the show's intensity, the peril of the young wizards didn't seem to be enough incentive for him to keep his eyes open. Even as the Dementors invaded the train, Daniel allowed himself to drift off, just for a few minutes...

The prisoners, they weren't heading for an escape route – they were heading for certain death. "Excuse me. Listen to me." He couldn't let them die, so he desperately stood between the three and the 'gate, knowing with a cold dread that when the chevrons locked, he'd be just as dead. He had to act fast. "Look, this won't save you." He ignored his father's shout to get out of there. "You won't escape, you'll die."

Through some twist of fate, the prisoners threw him aside in their fervor to escape into the backwash of the Stargate. He couldn't believe this was allowed to happen. He got up, incredulous at the needless deaths. He ignored the hulking Vishnor, concentrating on Linea instead. To his horror, large hands grabbed him from behind, choking him, cutting off his air supply. There were screams in the background, the Dementors all around him, and he couldn't breathe. He fought, but the arms were like steel. His vision began to fade, and he saw his dad fighting, trying to get to him and he knew it was too late. And then, he felt himself fall—

"P2A-509!"

"What?" Corey was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"SG3, they were scheduled... they were..." Disoriented, his throat burning with each gasped inhalation, Daniel looked around in confusion at the room full of kids staring back at him. "What?"

"You fell asleep, egghead," Li shouted, throwing a string of Twizzler at him as the room erupted in laughter. Daniel watched the red piece of candy slide to the floor and land on Cassidy, who merely raised his snout to sniff at it, then lay back down without touching it.

Confused, embarrassed and sick to his stomach, Daniel stood and nearly tripped over the dozing dog. His friends shouted insults at him, and deep down he knew they were meant to be teasing, but he couldn't seem to separate their words from those reverberating in his head. He headed for the bathroom, seeking solace, but at the last moment continued down the hallway and slipped out the front door.

The night air was chilly, and immediately the dampness clung to him, cooling his hot, sweaty skin. Although the rain had stopped, his socks were soaked by the time he lurched to the large oak tree in the center of the Maddison's front yard and leaned against the trunk. He was dizzy, the phantom memories of fire and brimstone, unwashed bodies, and intense heat clashed with the cool night air, the smell of grease on his hands and the taste in his mouth. Slowly he slid down the coarse bark, leaning his back against the tree. He was shivering, and the lights along the street danced like the fires of Netu.

He swallowed back bile as he curled his arms around his bent knees. He'd go home now, if he had his shoes but he was afraid that the fire would burn his feet. No, that wasn't right. His feet were wet, as was his butt; but he was sweating. That meant he was hot, didn't it?

"Daniel? Are you all right?"

He looked up at the shadowy form of Mrs. Maddison, her face backlit by the open door so he couldn't see her expression. Afraid that he'd throw up if he opened his mouth, he simply shook his head.

"Mom? Is everything okay?"

"Stay there, Corey." She knelt beside Daniel and he felt her hand against his face and it was warm and cold at the same time. "You're shivering. Come on back inside, okay?"

Instead of getting up, Daniel huddled more tightly into himself.

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Did the movie frighten you?" She took her hand away, and his skin twitched where she'd touched it. "Did someone say something?"

How could he tell her that he was responsible for those people's deaths?

"Are you feeling sick? Does something hurt?"

Again, all Daniel could do was shake his head. Now his teeth were chattering and he couldn't stop them from making noise. Mrs. Maddison stood. "I'll be right back, okay? Don't worry, I'm not leaving you."

Daniel could hear her footsteps as she swept through the wet grass, the sound eerily loud despite the echoing wails of tortured souls in the hell he'd visited. People had died, because of him; he'd tried to save them but they'd died anyway. Horrible deaths, all his fault. His fault. People were whispering, blaming him, pointing fingers at him. He'd died, or almost died. A part of him thought that he'd deserved to die and another part of him was terrified of it happening again.

He jumped when he felt something heavy around his shoulders. He hadn't heard Mrs. Maddison come back. "There, that should help." She fiddled with the blanket, tucking it around his legs, lifting each of his feet so the blanket was between him and the rain-soaked grass. She sat next to him, and he could feel her body heat. He wanted to lean against her, have her hold him close and tell him everything would be all right, but the heat reminded him of the fires burning and he pulled away.

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Jack held his truck to the very limit of the law, despite the urge to want to run through every red light and stop sign on his way to the Maddison's. He made it in seven minutes, and his headlights illuminated two figures sitting in the middle of their front yard, underneath a tree as he pulled into the driveway.

He slid out of the seat and half-jogged across the lawn. The streetlights gave a dim illumination and he saw Daniel, wrapped in a blanket, with Gina sitting next to him. Steve was in the doorway, and he could see curious heads trying to peek from behind.

Ignoring everyone but Daniel, he knelt next to him and put a hand on his blanket-covered leg. "Hey, buddy, what's going on?"

"D... Dad?"

"Yeah, it's me. Wanna tell me what happened?" Daniel turned to look at him and his glasses caught the light from the streetlamp, hiding his eyes.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah. What's going on, Daniel? Are you sick?" Jack put a hand to Daniel's cheek and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt no fever. But the relief turned to worry when he felt chilled and clammy skin.

"Can we go home?"

"Sure thing. Can you get up?" Jack caught Daniel by the arms and hauled him to his feet. He held on for a moment, and when Daniel seemed steady, he began leading him back to the truck. Daniel held the blanket close, both hands clenched tightly in the material.

Gina fell into step beside them. "Corey said he fell asleep for a few minutes and woke up disoriented. He went outside and didn't want to come back in. Actually he was almost non-responsive for a while."

Jack opened the passenger door and waited until Daniel got in. "Wait here a sec, okay?" He peered at Daniel in the harsh light, noting the paleness of his skin. Daniel nodded and pulled the blanket closer, ducking his head and not looking his way.

As he walked away from the truck, Steve came out to join them. "How's he doing?"

"I don't know. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's in some type of shock. Or..." Jack didn't say the word but Gina and Steve immediately understood.

"I kept my eye on him, Jack. He stayed with the boys, he didn't go off anywhere by himself, he didn't eat anything different. If he took any drugs, I didn't see him and I was watching him like a hawk."

"What about the boys? Did they notice anything?"

"No. They just said he'd fallen asleep and—" Gina turned and watched as her son hurried down the driveway. He was carrying Daniel's overnight bag and his sneakers. "Here's Daniel's stuff, Mom." He went to hand the bag to Gina, but Jack took it from him.

"What happened, Corey?" Jack glanced quickly back towards the truck, but Daniel hadn't moved.

"Nothing, Colonel O'Neill. We were watching the movie and Daniel was yawning and he fell asleep. But just for a couple of minutes and he woke up yelling some numbers and letters and was saying they were scheduled. He must have been dreaming about school or something. And he got up and went outside."

"Corey, this is important. Did you see him take anything? Because if you did, I'll need to take Daniel to the hospital."

"You mean drugs?" Corey looked uncomfortable, rubbing at the grass with his sneaker-clad foot. "Daniel said he wasn't taking drugs. That he'd only done it that one time. And I believe him. And no, sir, I didn't see him take anything. He was... Daniel. He wasn't high. He was just sleepy and he fell asleep."

"Okay, thank you." Jack tousled the boy's head, shifted Daniel's bag to his other hand, and nodded to the Maddisons. "Thank you for calling me. I'm sorry about all this."

"It's nothing. I just hope he's okay. He did eat a lot of junk food. Maybe it's just a combination of indigestion and a bad dream. You'll let us know?"

"Of course. I better get him home. I'll bring the blanket back later."

"There's no hurry, Jack," Steve said as they walked him to the truck. Gina leaned partway inside and gave Daniel a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, feel better, okay? You'll need to come over again soon and finish the movie. You and I can have an afternoon together, if Corey doesn't want to see it again."

"Hey, I'm game for watching it again. Will you be coming to the movies with us tomorrow, Daniel?"

When Daniel didn't react to any of the banter, Jack shook his head. "Not tomorrow, Corey."

"Oh. Okay. I'll catch you later, Daniel." Jack slowly closed the door and the Maddisons moved aside.

"Thanks again."

Niceties over and done with, Jack slid into the driver's seat and glanced over at Daniel, who was still staring at his feet. He started the truck and backed out of the driveway. Once they were on their way, Jack debated between taking Daniel home or to the hospital. They drove in silence for several minutes and Daniel's trembling started to ease, so that convinced Jack. As they turned onto their street, Daniel finally looked up and glanced out the window. Seeing it as a sign Daniel was recovering from whatever had happened, Jack said, "Okay, spill. What happened?"

"I don't... I had a nightmare."

"I got that much. What about?"

Daniel shrugged. "The movie? I don't really remember."

"But it was enough to send you running out of the house."

"I don't remember."

Jack pulled into their driveway and stopped the Avalanche. He opened the door and turned towards Daniel, examining him in the overhead light. Pale, as before, but his eyes were clear and his pupils reacting normally. Daniel stared at him nervously, still wracked with occasional shivers.

"Let's get you to bed." Jack reached into the back and grabbed Daniel's stuff.

Moving lethargically, Daniel stepped out of the truck and followed Jack up the stairs, into the house. It was only when Jack dropped Daniel's bag by the door that he realized Daniel wasn't wearing any shoes. He cursed at his thoughtlessness, then watched as Daniel moved slowly to his bedroom. Jack hurried behind, and when Daniel sat on the bed, Jack ordered him to strip.

He pulled out a clean pair of pajamas and watched as Daniel changed his clothes, each motion appearing to be a task of monumental proportions. Assessing his child, he finally concluded that Daniel had not taken any drugs, but was suffering from some sort of shock or illness, as he'd originally suspected. Probably Gina was right; he'd eaten too much junk food, had dozed off and had woken up with an upset stomach, which had caused a humdinger of a nightmare.

Finally Daniel was done and he slid under the covers. "What about tomorrow?" Daniel asked in a small voice.

What about tomorrow?"

"You have to go away, and Grandma's too busy to baby-sit me."

"We'll figure something out tomorrow."

"Can I stay with Sam?"

"Sorry, she's coming with me." Jack sat on the edge of the bed, concerned that the trembling wasn't stopping. "Do you want to go back to Steve and Gina's tomorrow?" The moment Jack asked, he knew it was a mistake. Even if Daniel had recovered from whatever ailment he'd been afflicted with tonight, he'd probably be too embarrassed to go over there and join the other kids. "I'll call Grandma in the morning and see if we can arrange something. If not, maybe Fraiser or someone at the base'll be willing to have you play gopher for a few hours."

"Really?" Finally, there was a touch of enthusiasm in his voice.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, after we see what your Grandma says, okay?"

"Okay."

Jack was partway upright when Daniel asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"For getting sick?"

"For ruining your plans."

"No, of course not." Jack brushed Daniel's hair aside and kissed his forehead. He was pleased to see that his skin felt closer to normal. "Now, go to sleep."

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"Are you sure, Daniel?" His father hovered over the bed, looking as miserable as Daniel felt.

"If I said I wanted you to stay home, would you stay?" His dad's hesitation was all the answer that Daniel needed. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He coughed into the crook of his arm. "It's only allergies."

"It's been a while since..."

And it had been a while since he'd had an allergy attack. So long, in fact, that his medication had expired.

"Fraiser's going to stop by and assess you—"

"It's allergies." Daniel pushed back the covers, huffing in annoyance when his dad pushed them right back up. "I'm not sick. I don't need to stay in bed."

"You say it's allergies. Why don't you just—"

"Just go, Dad. You're not staying no matter what Janet says, Grandma's already in the kitchen." Daniel sighed. "It's okay for you to leave."

His dad got up, then sat back down, and before Daniel could protest, drew him into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm so sorry about last night."

"I don't want to talk about it," Daniel protested, but his face was smooshed against his father's chest and the intensity of his words were buried.

Strong hands rubbed his back, their movements bringing with them bittersweet memories of comfort during previous allergy attacks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you go to the Maddisons. You said you didn't want to go—"

Daniel pushed away and looked up. "I'm not angry," he said with resignation. "Wish you were staying home," he blurted out then dropped his head, embarrassed.

His father cupped his chin and guided Daniel's face upward. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, I wish I was home with you today."

Daniel sneezed three times then gratefully accepted the tissue his father waved under his nose. "Arrghhh," he said, dropping heavily back onto his pillow. "I forgot how much I hate this." He coughed then turned on his side, fighting sleep, but his father's hand was heavy and familiar as it rested on his arm. And the sense of security was enough to lull Daniel back into slumber.

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He stumbled into the kitchen, dressed in sweats, a box of tissues stuck under his arm.

"Grandma," he croaked.

"Well, well, look who's up." She looked up from the paper she was reading.

Daniel growled, sat in the chair to her right then dropped the box of tissues on the table. He began to spin the box and was building up a nice rotation before his grandmother slammed her hand on top of it.

"How about you occupy yourself with a bowl of soup?"

Bleary eyed, Daniel blinked at her. "Crackers?"

"Of course, crackers. Give me a second to warm it up."

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Daniel stirred the soup with the cracker, leaning over the steaming liquid, breathing heavily, and for one heaven-sent minute, the steam opened up his nasal passages.

"It helps if you eat it."

"This is better than eating." The cracker dropped into the soup as he fumbled for a tissue to blow his nose. "Okay, maybe not." He made quick use of one tissue before moving onto another. "Maybe a roll of paper towels would be a better idea."

"A little rough on the nose, wouldn't you think?"

"A little." Daniel picked up the spoon and stirred the soup before capturing the disintegrating cracker and swallowing. Daniel scarfed down two bowls of soup and a half sleeve of crackers within minutes.

"You can come up for air, mhuirnin."

Daniel reached for one more cracker and managed to take a bite before a sneeze caught him unprepared and a shower of crumbs exploded out of his mouth.

His grandmother's laughter overrode his embarrassment and he hurriedly reached for a tissue to catch another sneeze riding on the heels of the first. A few more sneezes, two coughs, a couple of tissues and Daniel was finally able to come up for air.

"Finished?"

Daniel drew a shallow breath. "Yeah, I think so. Unless you can think of a way I can remove my eyeballs, scrub them with steel wool and put them back in."

"Not in the kitchen, okay?" She stood, took the empty bowl from him and kissed his head. "Maybe Janet can help you with the eye thing. I wouldn't want to be responsible for putting them back upside down."

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Daniel showered, the warm water, like the soup, clearing his nostrils for mere minutes before they slammed shut. His eyes burned. He couldn't breathe and his throat hurt from breathing through his mouth. His head was stuffed with so much crap, coherent thoughts couldn't even trudge through the muck and mire of grey stuff. He sat on the couch, eyes closed, listening to the inane chatter of Saturday cartoons, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was okay. He didn't want to say he was happy, because saying the word would just curse his okay and make it go away.

He may not have been able to draw a deep breath without coughing or sneezing but since the early morning hours, since his first sneeze, Daniel hadn't hallucinated. Not a single glowy-eyed monster had invaded his dreams or stalked his waking hours.

Daniel fought sleep, afraid to ruin the good day, but eventually exhaustion won out and he slept, on the couch, with the chatter of Pokemon characters in the background, and for the first time in a long time, without the presence of monsters.

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"Go 'way." Valiantly, he pushed against the hand on his shoulder. "Sleeping."

"I know," the voice answered with a touch of amusement. "You're worse than Cassie."

"Huh?" He pried one eye open. "Janet?"

"The one and only."

"Nice," he said, closing the lone eye. "I'm fine."

"How about we let my medical degree do the talking?"

"How about you examine me and I'll just lay here, eyes closed, and pretend to be awake."

"Works for me."

"Really?" Daniel didn't wait for her to reconsider. He burrowed deeper into the couch, yelping in surprise when the cold bell of her stethoscope found its way to his chest. "Hey! Watch where you put that thing." Hastily, he sat up, coughing and sputtering indignantly.

"Shush," Janet ordered, moving the cold instrument all around his chest. "Hmmm."

"Aren't you supposed to warm that thing?" Daniel sneezed three times in quick succession.

Janet pulled back. "Warn a girl first, will ya?"

"Sorry." He didn't fight his smile.

"You're not sorry."

"I'm—"

"Shush. For five minutes, okay?"

"Bossy."

Daniel leaned sideways, resting his head on the couch, actually drifting while Janet performed her examination.

"Your blood pressure's a little low."

Daniel gave her a thumb's up, never opening his eyes.

"You're congested, your throat is rough—"

Daniel sneezed.

"Medical diagnosis—allergies."

"You're good," Daniel said obnoxiously.

"And you're a brat."

Daniel opened his eyes and smiled at Janet, who was already smiling at him. "That's what Cassie calls me."

"Takes one to know one, Mr. Jackson." His smile slowly faded as she packed her equipment away. "All kidding aside, Daniel..."

Oh, oh. Here it comes. Daniel stiffened, waiting for the accusations.

"You need to make sure your allergy medication doesn't expire."

Okay, that wasn't what he was expecting. "My allergy medication?"

"Yes, don't look so surprised. Now that you're thirteen, you should be responsible enough to remind the Col—your dad—"

"My allergy medication," Daniel repeated in disbelief. He'd expected a tongue-lashing or at least an interrogation, being a captive audience and all. "Is expired," he managed.

"I know it's been a while since your last attack, but let this be a lesson to you."

Daniel nodded. "Lesson. Right."

"And if you'd had an antihistamine to take as soon as you felt the first symptom, I wouldn't have to be—"

"You're giving me a shot?" Daniel eyed the syringe in her hands. "Hate those."

"I know you do, but it's faster acting that an oral dosage." Janet winked at him. "Turn over and pull down—"

"Not on your life."

"You used to let me—"

"I was a kid, Janet." He rolled up his sleeve and presented his bicep. "Use this." He sneezed then coughed. "It'll be easier for all concerned."

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Janet and his grandmother were sitting in the kitchen talking over a cup of coffee when Daniel walked in, eyes at half-mast, dragging his body. His yawn was interrupted by a cough. "This is all your fault," he croaked, pointing at Janet.

"Go to sleep, Daniel," Janet ordered.

"Thirsty," he managed, shuffling past them towards the fridge.

His grandmother got up and maneuvered Daniel away from the refrigerator, giving him a gentle push back towards the kitchen doorway. "Janet said the medication she gave you would make you sleepy."

Daniel gave a snort. "Understatement."

"I'll get you a drink and bring it in—"

The phone rang and Daniel made a move to answer it, only to be beaten to the punch by his much older grandma.

"O'Neill residence."

Daniel waited. He hated phone calls whenever his dad was gone through the Stargate. Impending doom, to him, was always a phone call away.

"This is Daniel's grandmother. Why, hello, Mrs. Maddison. Yes, of course I remember you."

Daniel froze. Today it wouldn't be hallucinations that were going to ruin the day, but his dad's big mouth.

"Thank you for asking." Rose smiled and nodded. "He'd recovered by the time he'd—yes, I'd probably chalk it up to too much junk food and a nightmare."

"Daniel?"

Janet reached out towards him but he sidestepped her concern.

She got up and pushed him towards a chair. "Sit down, before you fall down."

Daniel plopped down into the chair, then glanced up at Janet. "You know?"

She had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Your father was concerned."

"So that's why you came here today? Because my father was concerned? Not for—"

"For both. Daniel, we're all concerned. Your father, grandmother, me, Sam, Teal'c, Cassie... and even Mrs. Maddison."

"Concerned?" Daniel's snort turned into a cough. Shakily, he stood, holding onto the table. "How about talking to me if you're concerned?" He swung out his arm, taking down the mugs on the table. "Instead, I'm a discussion over coffee and cake."

Janet backed up and sat herself in the chair opposite Daniel, simultaneously crossing her arms and legs. "Go ahead. Talk."

His grandmother stood, the phone cradled against her chest. Hastily, she returned it to the base. "I already said goodbye. Told Mrs. Maddison you really weren't well enough to go to the movies—"

"Stop it!" Daniel yelled. "Stop putting words in my mouth." He was shaking, fighting the effects of the medication.

"Well, then, talk to us, mhuirnin."

"No."

He skirted around Janet and his grandmother and was almost out of the kitchen when Janet grabbed his arm. "There's only so much running you can do, Daniel, until it catches up to you."

He shrugged from her grip and stumbled backwards into the wall. "It hasn't caught me yet," Daniel hissed at her then turned and exited the kitchen, bouncing up the few steps to the hallway, his speed decreasing dramatically once he realized neither of them were on his heels.

In one fell swoop, everything on his bed went flying. Books, papers, pens, pencils, Lumpy. Shit. Shit. Shit. What had he been thinking? How stupid was he? He kicked his chair. Hard. Once. Twice. On the third time it toppled over, spilling his backpack and its contents onto the floor. Crap.

"Feel better?"

Asshole. He should have closed the door. Locked it. Pushed the dresser in front of it. Barred anyone from seeing. "Don't come in." His back was towards the door, his arms crossed in front of him, the only way to quell their shaking and stop their destructiveness.

"I'm not, mhuirnin, I'm standing right here in the hallway. If you would turn around..."

Daniel ignored her request. "And Janet. Where's Janet?"

"I told her she should leave."

"And did she? Did Janet leave?"

"She left a blister pack of antihistamines on the counter for you."

Daniel kicked the pile right in front of him. "My cell phone's in here somewhere. I'll call her and thank her when I find it." Exhaustion stole the bite from his words and he yawned. He fought it, but it was impossible to suppress and his head hung heavy. "I'm so tired, Grandma."

"I know you are, sweetheart. How about I'll stay right here when you get into bed."

"In the hallway?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please," he politely requested.

"Take off your shoes."

It was so nice to have someone make the decisions for him. "Okay." He toed off his shoes, watching his sock-covered toes scrunch and unscrunch against the carpeting.

"Are you cold, Daniel?"

"No," he sighed. "Just tired."

"Why don't you sit on the bed?"

Daniel sat.

"That's good, honey. You can lie down now."

"Grandma?" There was panic is his voice.

"I'm right here, mhuirnin."

"Promise me..." Daniel slid sideways, pulling his feet up and over the side of the bed. "You'll keep the nightmares away."

"Ah, baby." A sob seemed to stick in her throat. "I promise. I won't go anywhere. I'll stand right here. No monsters will get past me."

"Be careful," Daniel whispered.

"Shush, and get under the covers, okay?"

Daniel nodded, snuggled under the blankets, opening his eyes when Lumpy rested his head on his cheeks. He blinked hazily into his grandmother's face.

She glanced towards the doorway. "I just figured the two of us could join forces to ward off the nightmares."

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He woke himself up with a cough, annoyed to be pulled from a dream that bordered on entertaining, yet slightly bizarre. A young child. A dead planet. Fear and then friendship. Daniel rubbed his face into the pillow, recalling how the little redheaded girl had hauntingly reminded him of Cassie. Hazmat suits. Dead people. A terrified child who'd latched onto both Sam and Janet. And his father. Daniel shuddered with residual images. Okay, maybe the dream wasn't that entertaining. Maybe it was just entertaining because he'd been comparing it to what usually haunted his waking and sleeping hours. And now he couldn't get Cassie out of his thoughts.

He needed his cell phone, and as he blindly reached out for his backpack, his stomach growled, interrupting him with an uncomfortable emptiness that bordered on nausea. Slowly, he threw back the blanket and got out of bed. Food and cell phone, he could multitask.

"What the—" Daniel slipped on something, reached for a chair that wasn't there and fell on his ass with a jaw-snapping thud.

His room was in shambles, as if someone, in a fit of anger, had ransacked his room. Rubbing his ass, he held onto the bed and pulled himself upright. Everything was on the floor.

"Hi."

Daniel looked up at his grandmother standing in the doorway. "Um, hi." Bending down, he picked up the chair. "Do I really want to know?"

She grimaced, but didn't set foot into the room. "How do you feel?"

He sneezed.

"Good answer, I'm thinking Janet's shot has just about worn off."

"Shot? Janet?" He scrubbed his hand across his forehead, attempting to erase the fuzziness from his brain. He remembered a child that reminded him of Cassie and her tears, feeling like crap, coughing and sneezing, but everything else seemed more than a little blurry. "I need to call Cassie." He looked downward. "I'm guessing my cell phone is buried in this pile of stuff."

His grandmother never entered the room, and it was the visual of her standing in the doorway that brought the earlier hours back to him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, pointing at the floor then at her. "I really—"

"Did you have nightmares, mhuirnin?"

He shook his head.

"Good."

"Grandma," he called to her as she walked away.

"Yes?" Her eyes held a hope he wasn't able to kindle.

He moved some papers with his foot. "Please don't tell my dad about this."

Sighing, she turned and walked away without answering.

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He found his cell phone, a package of peanut butter cheese crackers and the return of his allergy symptoms all without setting foot out of the bedroom door.

He flipped open his cell phone. Three messages. One from Cassie, one from his soccer coach and one from Corey. Just seeing Corey's message brought back images he'd rather pretend he had no memory of, and with a quick, silent apology, he deleted that one. His coach, in no uncertain terms, reminded him about tomorrow's game. Final warning. Too many missed practices. Missed games. Daniel hit delete before the man finished.

He didn't listen to Cassie's message, he just called her. "Hey," he said with a mouth full of crackers.

"Daniel?" she whispered. "Where the fuck are you?"

"Where would I be?"

"I called and you didn't answer. My mom was pissed when she came home from your house—" She drew a breath. "What the hell happened?"

Daniel located a bottle of warm water that was sticking out from under his bed, screwed off the top and took a long swallow before answering her question. He looked around his room. "I think I lost it."

"You think—shut up, Dominic—Dominic says hello."

Daniel didn't think that was what Dominic was actually saying. "I had an allergy attack, your mom stuck a needle in my arm and the rest is..."

Cassie giggled. "Pretty hazy? Yeah, I've been on the receiving end of my mom's needles a few times—Dominic, my mother's a doctor, remember?"

"Cassie, I saw you in my dream last night."

"Oh, Daniel," she said dramatically. "How sweet."

"Not like that," he hissed. "Your planet. You were wearing a blue thing." Daniel closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. "That tied at the neck. But you didn't have it tied and there were—"

"Shut up, Daniel."

"The sleeves had these stripes... not the shoulders, they were—"

"Shut up!" she screamed. "I don't know what kind of practical joke you think you're playing on me—"

"It's not a practical joke, I actually saw, and people, they were wearing hazmat suits, and everyone was dead—"

"Then you know something, Daniel Jackson? You're sick. Sick in the head. And maybe my mom is right, that you do need help."

"Cassie, please—"

"Nope, ending this conversation now." She was crying and Dominic was saying something in the background. Shouting more than saying.

Devastated, Daniel was the one who ended the call.

(tbc)