"You call this a ship?" said O'Neill, taking in the interior of Thor's vessel, which was cramped enough to make a Goa'uld Tel'tak feel like the QEII in comparison.

Thor regarded him with his trademark stoicism, his large black eyes blinking at him serenely. "While the 'Samantha Carter' may be the smallest ship in the Asgard fleet, it is by far the fastest," replied Thor. "You said time was of the essence, did you not?"

"I did," O'Neill agreed, "but…doesn't this thing come in a full-size sedan model?"

Ignoring the colonel's jibe, Thor answered evenly: "You will find this vessel is well equipped to take care of your needs on this journey."

Jack looked around the tiny ship doubtfully. There was no division between the cockpit and the body of the ship, and the whole thing was just a boxy-looking dome-shaped room. He'd been in comfier-looking cargo vans. What was he supposed to sit on? Sleep on? This was going to be his home for the next sixteen days, he wondered? His dismay at that thought must have been evident, because Thor answered his questions as if he'd asked them out loud.

"There are panels along the walls, O'Neill," said Thor in a deadpan voice that Jack was convinced held a touch of sarcasm.

Jack cocked his head curiously and set about prodding the walls to reveal a veritable cornucopia of amenities. One panel slid back and a decent sized cot slid down from its hiding place. Two more panels opened up to become single-seat chairs. There was a lazy-susan deal in one section that swivelled to reveal one of the tiniest and most efficiently designed lavatories Jack had ever seen. The rest of the panels turned out to be a refrigeration unit, a medical supply cupboard, a cooking platform and a bunch of storage space. Jack nodded to himself, impressed. The little 'Samantha' did seem to have everything…with one exception.

"Thor, buddy," said Jack. "Is this your way of telling me you wanna be more than just friends?"

Thor tilted his oversized head at him, blinking his viscous-black eyes questioningly.

"One bed?" Jack explained. "I love you, Thor, you know that; but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

"I am perfectly comfortable sleeping in my pilot seat," answered Thor, again, deadpan…or was that a smirk playing across those teeny little lips?... Nope. Deadpan. Jack sighed. It looked like he'd be hard-pressed for entertainment over the next eight days.

It also looked like Thor was under the impression they would be returning to Earth without Daniel. Either that or he had some interesting ideas about Jack's relationship with the archaeologist. Jack winced at that thought—the way they'd left things, he wasn't so sure Daniel would even be able to look him in the eye, let alone share a bed as him.

Jack sighed again and plopped down on the cot. Not bad, he thought. It was far more comfortable than it appeared to be. Settling down with his hands pillowing his head, Jack stared up at the rounded ceiling, already starting to feel the boredom weighing on him.

"This thing got cable?" he asked, and he could swear he head Thor sigh impatiently from his control centre.

By the time Daniel woke up again it was evening. The pain had returned, worse than before. Or perhaps it only felt worse because he'd had a temporary reprieve from it.

It was a starless night again, and he was still sopping wet, even though the rain seemed to have let up for the time being. Daniel felt a momentary wave of misery wash over him, and for the first time since he'd stepped through the 'gate onto this planet he felt truly disconsolate.

He felt a molten trail of tears score a path down his face before he even realized he was crying. As if he wasn't wet enough without adding his own waterworks into the mix! Mentally chastising himself for his lapse in optimism, Daniel forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down. Losing hope would do him no good. He had to keep fighting. He had to survive this somehow.

It was too dark to work on freeing himself from the bamboo shoots, and even if it wasn't, his efforts so far had gotten him absolutely nowhere. There really wasn't much he could do except wait and hope more fruit came his way.

He decided to do a mental inventory of everything he had on him and everything he had within reach, hoping he might come up with something he could use to free himself. He had the clothes on his back, which he desperately wished he could change out of. He had the wire cutters, which were too small to use on the bamboo, but might still come in handy. He had his micro-cassette recorder, which, by some miracle, had survived his spill down the ravine. He had seventy-five cents change in his pockets and a minty toothpick, still in its wrapper. Not much of a survival kit…but then, he hadn't really counted on surviving.

Daniel pulled out the cassette recorder. It may not be much help as far as survival went, but at least he could use it to send a final message to his friends if worse came to worst. He pressed the record button, but nothing came out of his mouth, so he hit stop and tapped the little machine against his lips, trying to think of something to say. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem—usually it was keeping his mouth shut that was difficult—but the pain was making it hard to concentrate, and he wanted his goodbye speech to be perfect. Trusting that he would eventually come up with something pithy to say, he set the recorder on voice activation and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket to keep it dry.

There was no wind that night, and that meant no free food falling from the sky. By morning, Daniel's stomach lining felt like it was eating itself, and the rain had started up again, dampening his spirits as much as his clothes. He had almost completely dried off, and had been enjoying the sensation, so when the rain pelted down on his face again, he let out a loud, frustrated growl. Then he remembered that his recorder was on voice activation and he dug his fingers into his pocket and rewound the tape. Only, he went too far, and when he hit playback, he was startled to hear Jack's voice coming from the machine's speaker.

"…that thing on? Don't tell me you've been recording this the whole time!"

"Okay, Jack, I won't tell you."

"Seriously, turn that thing off. I want that tape destroyed."

"Why? I think you've got a lovely singing voice."

"Gimme that thing!"

"And lose out on the best blackmailing opportunity I'll ever get? Not a chance!"

"Gimme, Danny, or I swear…"

"No way."

"Daniel, give it to me. That's an order."

"Oh, you'll have to do better than that, Jack."

"Daniel…?"

"Jack…?"

"Sit still!"

"Get off!"

"Daniel Jackson, do you require assistance?"

"No. Teal'c, I'm fine. Flattened, but fine."

Daniel hit the stop button. Hearing Jack like that, so relaxed…so playful, was like a slap in the face. It was a reminder that, even if he did make it home, things would never be as comfortable between them now as they were then. He squared his jaw, pushing away those depressing thoughts and resetting the recorder to voice activation. There was no sense dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. All that counted now was surviving to see another day.

The wind finally picked up late in the day and the sky grew dark with bruise-coloured rain clouds. It looked like he was in for one hell of a storm, and within minutes the rain was lashing at him relentlessly, the wind howling through the trees above. It didn't take long for the fruit-laden branches to unburden themselves of their load, and the ripe fruit rained down into his little clearing. Daniel greedily gathered as much fruit as he could reach and tucked them in close to his body. There was no way he was sharing his stash with those birds, he thought.

The first bite of fruit was so sweet and delicious he actually moaned out loud. And to think, he'd almost given in and opened up one of his energy bars! Some of the dark, red juice dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, but Daniel didn't care; he was too focused on filling his empty stomach to care about tidiness. The ever-present pain was already starting to retreat after eating two of the fruits, and as he finished a third, he was left feeling pleasantly numb. Daniel figured the fruit must be a naturally occurring analgesic, and he thought maybe he should try to save one for Janet to study.

The sudden realization that Janet would probably never see him again, let alone get her hands on the fruit, sent a dull pang of regret through Daniel. Then he remembered the recorder in his pocket and decided that he could at least tell the others about the fruit—and everything else that had happened while he was on the planet—in the hopes that the information may prove helpful in the future. He smiled a little, happy to finally have something useful to do.

"Uh…Okay, where do I begin? I guess I should start with what happened after I stepped through the Stargate…"

…Daniel awoke with a start, wondering when, exactly, he'd fallen asleep. It was dark now, so he had to have been unconscious for several hours at least. He blinked a few times—God it got so dark at night…and so quiet. He still felt numb from the fruit, and the overall sensation made him feel like he was floating in a sensory deprivation tank, something he'd tried once in his college days. There was absolutely nothing to distract him from the random and confusing images dredged up from the darkest recesses of his mind.

A tiny part of him was lucid enough to realize that the fruit, aside from being an analgesic, must also be a hallucinogenic. It was the only thing that would explain the kaleidoscopic thoughts and images that were spinning through his mind. Ridiculous things like painting Teal'c a blue-green colour to better suit his name, or chasing General Hammond down the corridors of the SGC while singing 'happy birthday' at the top of his lungs, were interspersed with real memories of Shau'ri and his parents. It was getting harder and harder to sort out what was real and what wasn't. A memory of Jack thrusting into him against a sunset-lit cavern wall brought reality crashing down around him—no way was that memory real!

Jack.

God how he hated the way he'd left things with Jack. If only he'd had more time to set things straight between them. And what made it worse was that he couldn't even say anything to him on the recorder for fear of saying the wrong thing. He couldn't bear the thought of making things worse than they already were.

Daniel's head throbbed, and the pain in the rest of his body was rapidly returning. Without a second thought, he plucked one of the fruits off the ground and devoured it in four bites, and then he grabbed another one and slowly savoured it. Soon the jumbled mess of thoughts and images in his head began to make some sort of sense to him and as his pain ebbed away, he let himself drift off on a black tide of silence.

Jack was occupying himself with trying to uncover the inner workings of the 'Samantha Carter's panel system…alright, he was opening and closing the bed panel, watching the cot slide up into the wall, stopping it part way, then sliding it back out again. It had kept him occupied for well over an hour.

Thor glanced at Colonel O'Neill from his control panel, his eyes drawn down into thin black slits. It was as close to a scowl as Jack had ever seen on an Asgard face and he dutifully relented from his futzing activities.

"You know, time would go a lot faster if you had cable," said Jack, sauntering over to stand next to Thor. The view out the front portal was exactly the same as it had been for the past six days. Streaky stars zooming past them at a nauseating speed. "Not that I'm complaining—I love fiddling with 'Samantha's panels," he added with a slippery grin.

Jack watched as Thor drummed his long, alien fingers on the arm of his chair. The little grey guy seemed to be mentally counting to ten. Jack smiled. It had taken longer than he'd expected, but he'd finally managed to drive his diminutive friend up the wall.

"Perhaps you might like to choose a ceiling-scape to look at," said Thor with newly-reclaimed patience.

"Huh?"

"Press the light dial into the wall and turn it clockwise."

Jack shrugged and did as he was instructed. When he pushed the dial into the wall the entire ceiling of the dome lit up with a projection of a blue sky, spotted with fluffy white clouds.

"Cool," said Jack and turned the dial. Another projection, this time a starlit night, took its place. He skimmed through the selection and settled on an underwater scene that made him feel like he was snorkelling. "Sweet," he said and lay down on the cot to watch the fish swim by. "Can you play games on this thing?"

If Thor had had shoulders they would have slumped in defeat.

It was dark. It was always dark now—dark and silent and so peaceful. He was awake now…at least he thought he was awake. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference; day, night, awake, asleep, reality, hallucination…none of it made sense anymore. The only thing he was certain of was that when the pain managed to break through the fruit-induced numbness it was unbearable—far worse than it should have been, because it was the only thing he could feel. And it was starting to come back now.

He had no idea if he was screaming or not—if he was, he couldn't hear it—but the pain was so excruciating he'd be surprised if he wasn't screaming loud enough to scare off the wildlife for miles around. His shoulder and thigh were ablaze with fiery pain and the rest of his body echoed that pain with every beat of his heart. It felt like he was being brutally tortured, but the corner of his mind that was still clinging to reality told him that wasn't the case. He could no longer remember what had happened to bring him to this—hell, most of the time he couldn't remember his own name—but something told him that he'd brought this suffering on himself.

Fruit. He needed the fruit or the pain would make him lose his mind completely. Because as much as the hallucinations, blindness, deafness and numbness frightened him, it was better than the alternative. He felt around on the ground nearby, his dulled sense of touch making it difficult to identify what was fruit and what wasn't. Once he grabbed hold of something that seemed to be about the right shape and size, he brought it up to his mouth, sniffing it first, and then licking it. Only his senses of smell and taste seemed to be immune to the fruits' effects, and he could tell by the sweet tang on his tongue that the object in his hand was, indeed, a fruit.

He bit into it frenziedly, sucking down the numbing juices, immediately feeling the pain begin to recede. A few minutes were all it took until he was lost again to the void.

Eight days…pushing nine.

Jack paced incessantly behind Thor's control console, not giving a damn how irritating he was being. He stopped suddenly and approached Thor, who swivelled around to face him and held up a long, thin finger before Jack could speak.

"No, we are not there yet, O'Neill," said Thor, and then he quickly added: "And, yes, we are going as fast as we can."

Jack's shoulders slumped and he just stood there looking pathetic until Thor took pity on him.

"I estimate we will arrive at the planet's coordinates in less than five hours. I suggest you use the time to catch up on your sleep."

Jack wanted to argue with him, but he had a point. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since he started this mission, and he would need to be well rested once he got to the planet. "Alright," he agreed reluctantly, "but you'll wake me the second we get there, right?"

Thor took a moment to answer, as if he was considering letting his companion sleep as long as possible just so he could get some peace and quiet. "Of course, O'Neill," he said at last.

It seemed to Jack like his head had barely hit his pillow when Thor shook him awake again. "We there yet?" asked Jack groggily.

"Yes, O'Neill, we are there," said Thor, but there was something indefinable in the small alien's inflection that set off Jack's alarms.

"There's a 'but', isn't there?" he asked, quickly getting to his feet.

"We are currently in orbit around the planet, but…"

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed.

"…But," Thor continued patiently," the sensors are not picking up any human life signs."

Jack had thought he'd been prepared for the worst, but still the news hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He'd lost Daniel before—too many times—but for some reason it hit him harder this time and his knees gave out, dropping him heavily back onto the cot. He had to remind himself just to keep breathing, and for the first time since leaving Earth, he was glad Sam and Teal'c weren't with him. For once he didn't have to put on a brave face for the sake of his team. He needed to be alone, needed to feel his grief. Needed to process what had happened.