It wasn't that Jack didn't appreciate what Daniel had done, or that he denied that doing it had been right, it was just that he wished Daniel would be a little more careful with his own life. He knew Daniel's intense loyalty, and it was one of the things he liked best about the man; but it sometimes it seemed like Daniel was always a little too ready to throw himself under the bus to protect who and what he cared about. Yet Jack knew that Daniel valued all life, including his own, and he didn't offer up that most precious of all things lightly. It was one of the seeming paradoxes about Daniel's character that Jack found eternally puzzling. Daniel didn't want to die, yet he was always more than ready to risk his life for what he believed in, and the people he cared about.

One of these days, they both knew, it would not turn out well for him. One day he was going to offer his life in exchange for something, and whatever forces ran the universe were going to take him up on it. And then Jack would be left without a huge part of what helped make him a better human being. He'd never want to admit it, but Jack knew he needed Daniel's presence and perspective for balance.

But today it had worked out in Daniel's favor. After the intense opening argument with Scar, things calmed down. The howler had been carrying an object when he came in, and he'd dropped that when he lunged for Jack and Daniel. After things had settled down, Jack realized it was the cylinder that Carter had been so interested in.

Scar, once finished demonstrating how powerful he was by kicking over inanimate objects, went to the cylinder, picked it up, and presented it to Daniel. After a moment's hesitation, Daniel took it, and looked at it.

"I don't know what you want me to do with this," Daniel said.

Scar then drew the first five symbols on the cylinder in the dirt. Below that, he drew what looked like five random letters from the alphabet.

"You want me to translate this?" Daniel asked, and the howler gestured at what he'd drawn, "So you do have a grasp of writing and some kind of alphabet, don't you?"

The howler made some kind of grunting noise, and sat down in the dirt. Daniel sat down in front of him, and Jack knew that he was going to have to watch Daniel do his thing. Jack couldn't have been less interested in watching Daniel make an idiot of himself trying to communicate if he'd tried, but the alternative was sitting around in this enclosure doing nothing.

Besides, if Daniel went and pissed off the head monkey again, Jack wanted to be there to intervene, not that it had gone well last time he'd done that. Daniel was fundamentally opposed to letting other people fight his battles for him, or even protect him really. Jack would say Daniel was remarkably brave for a geek, but the truth was the man was just flat courageous for any human of any group, and possibly he was also a bit nuts, but a good kind of nuts. Still, as team leader, it was Jack's job to try and protect his people, even when they would rather sacrifice themselves for his benefit.

It seemed like something had been gotten across to the howlers though. Jack wasn't sure if Scar understood that these three people were Jack's team and he was their leader, or if he'd merely gotten a 'you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us' kind of vibe off Daniel. Hell, maybe he was just impressed by how ready Daniel was to protect Jack, and maybe the howler respected that or something. In any case, Scar toned down the aggression, and seemed to be actually working with Daniel now from what Jack could tell. That was something.

Unfortunately, it gradually became evident that it wasn't enough. Eventually, Daniel asked Carter to come and join them. Scar seemed momentarily put off, and growled irritably, but Daniel talked and gestured extensively, trying to explain that there were terms here he wasn't sure of, that Carter was the science expert. Daniel didn't call on Teal'c, because even though there were Goa'uld symbols, they didn't seem to form any complete words, only parts of them.

The howlers ranged around the enclosure were fairly quiet, the ones in the trees overhead chattered occasionally at one another, but the majority of the noise from the monkeys came from outside, where there seemed to be a variety of arguments going on from how angry they sounded when they vocalized. Scar sat almost motionless, his sharp eyes catching every move Daniel and Carter made, but offering no interruption or interference.

"Is anybody else hungry?" Jack ventured after several hours of geeky silence from Daniel and Carter, during which they seemed to communicate primarily in moments of eye contact and a series of imprecise gestures and occasional frantic scribbling in the sand.

They were each carrying at least one emergency ration somewhere on their person, in addition to what they normally carried in their packs. Knowing Daniel, he probably had several energy bars in his pockets. But both Daniel and Carter were too deep in their work to even notice Jack's question, much less respond to it. None of them had eaten since before their capture, but those two weren't likely to remember that until they were done with whatever they were doing.

There were a few of reasons that they hadn't touched the ration packs yet. One reason was that they were actually doing alright just now. It had been awhile since they'd eaten, but they weren't in any danger yet, and it just made sense to save the ration packs for emergencies. Another reason was that the howlers were apt to take the ration packs if they saw them, if for no other reason than curiosity. After all, they'd already swiped Jack's first aid kit and Daniel's glasses, among other things. A third reason had to do with the fact that the team hadn't been given much water. It took water to process food; if you had limited water, you wanted to limit your food intake as much as possible so that water could last. So far there was no indication as to how often the howlers would refill or replace the canteen.

However, a howler had earlier grabbed the canteen and run off with it, then returned it refilled. But Jack wasn't exactly filled with confidence that the howlers would keep doing that. Even if they did, one canteen a day (which was what the current pattern indicated) shared between four people wasn't much. Long term, if the pattern held, they were in trouble.

But, as usual, Daniel had gotten distracted from matters directly pertaining to survival, and he'd taken Carter down with him. Not that Jack couldn't see the value of figuring out how to help the monkeys with their science project, but it seemed like there had to be a way to cut down on the number of steps between here and successful communication with the apes. Communication was essential to finding out exactly what the apes wanted with SG-1, and trying to convince the monkeys to let the team go, and explaining to the howlers that humans have certain needs that have to be met in order for them to thrive. Of course, it was possible the howlers wouldn't care anyway, but there was a chance that the monkeys really didn't know what SG-1 needed, or what the team had come here for.

"Daniel," Jack said, using a tone he knew would get the man's attention.

Daniel looked up and around as if he'd forgotten where he was, and then locked eyes with Jack, "There isn't enough here."

"Come again?"

"Look, the three languages involved are... well I would have said they're completely incompatible," Daniel said, and there was no small amount of agitation in his voice, "They don't even have the same number of letters in their alphabets. You read Portuguese left to right, Aramaic right to left, and don't even get me started on Goa'uld."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jack muttered.

"And it's not like the first letter makes the same sound in all three languages. Jack, with this small a sample, I can't figure out the rules. I don't know what this says. Even with Sam's help, it's no good. I need... I need more."

"Daniel," Jack said, his patience wavering, "What you need is to tell these monkeys that we want to go home, and to convince them that it would be in their best interested to let us do that."

"Jack!" Daniel protested, but Jack interrupted him.

"Daniel!"

At this point, the howlers picked up on the mood, became agitated and started to hoot. The ones on the ground slapped it noisily with their hands, the ones in the trees started to shake the branches.

"Jack, this is what they want to talk about!" Daniel shouted over the growing din, "I don't know why, but this is where I was told to start. So this is where I have to start! Look, I know we're in trouble, alright? I haven't forgotten, but you're not helping!"

Jack bristled at the last, primarily because Daniel had hit the problem dead center. Jack wasn't able to do anything to help. He couldn't translate, didn't have the foggiest what that damned cylinder was for, and so far the only thing he'd managed to accomplish was getting himself and Daniel bitten and attacked repeatedly. He was frustrated by how helpless he was. And when he got frustrated, he got mean. He couldn't help it, it was just how he was wired.

At this point, Carter decided to intervene.

"Look," she said calmly, "You're both frustrated and hungry. We all are, and you two didn't sleep much last night. But you're upsetting the monkeys, and I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now."

Jack and Daniel exchanged looks, and then Daniel nodded. They each took a few deep breaths.

"She's right," Daniel said quietly.

"She's smart that way," Jack replied, lowering his voice as well.

"I'll see if I can get them to understand the concept of 'Eat'," Daniel said, "But it didn't go very well the first time."

"First time?" Carter asked, but Daniel ignored her for the moment.

Instead, Daniel addressed himself to Scar, primarily in elaborate mime supplemented with a simple, single word concept. Jack had seen Daniel's mime act many times over the years of course. The first time it looked stupid. The second time, it also looked stupid. The third time... well suffice it to say that he'd concluded the first thing one had to do in charades was jettison any sense of shame or dignity. Daniel seemed to do this with startling ease.

But Jack noticed Daniel was going through the arm waving and elaborate gesture routine a bit fast, and seemingly with something of an edge, like maybe he was still irritated. After a bit, a couple of howlers gathered around, and started to chatter to one another.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, knowing that Daniel's mood could have a pretty direct effect on the results he got from the apes, "I didn't mean to start shouting. I'm just hungry."

"I'm not mad at you," Daniel said, seemingly taking a break while the monkeys appeared to confer with one another.

"You're not?" Jack asked, "You coulda fooled me."

"No, it's just I've already done this before," Daniel said softly, "And they didn't listen the first time."

"Ah," Jack said, "So you're annoyed with them."

"Yes," Daniel answered, keeping both eyes on Scar.

The other howlers were pairing off, facing one another and taking turns mimicking what Daniel had done, as if by performing the actions themselves, or watching another monkey do it, they thought they might glean something more from it. A smallish howler, more ginger colored than the rest of them, sort of sidled up to Daniel, reached out and tugged at his shirt, then hopped back when he reacted by turning and looking at it, feigning nonchalance by taking a sudden interest in the sky.

Sparing Scar a glance, Daniel turned his attention to the smaller creature. Scar seemed willing to let the inquisitive small howler interact with Daniel.

After a bit, it was evident that Daniel and the little howler were on the same frequency, even if they weren't able to use the same language. The two of them gestured back and forth for awhile, becoming more rapid and intense as they went, sometimes making noises that couldn't qualify as words to punctuate whatever they were talking about.

"That's a lot of gesturing over some bread and water," Jack murmured to Carter.

"I don't think they're still talking about food, sir," Carter replied.

Finally Scar got impatient. He strode over to the pair, then smacked to small howler in the side to gets its attention. The smaller howler began to jabber at him enthusiastically. Scar just stood there, staring at it for a long moment. Finally he grunted, and shambled off toward the gate. Seeing him go, the other howlers in the enclosure got up at once and scampered after him.

Daniel stood and watched them go.

"Well that was productive," Jack remarked sarcastically when the monkeys were gone.

"Have a little faith, Jack," Daniel replied calmly.

"In what?" Jack demanded, "Those demented baboons?"

"In me," Daniel answered, and when he looked briefly away from the gate and at Jack, he had that look in his eye, the one Jack had finally learned to trust.

"Oh," Jack said, calming down, "Alright."


Quiet had descended over the course of the afternoon. The howlers had settled down to doing something that required less screeching. Presumably they were eating, and then during the heat of the day settling somewhere shady to wait it out, just like any sensible creatures did.

The enclosure was partially shaded at all times of day, though with the typically high humidity of the jungle, Jack didn't feel like that was a great deal of help. But there did seem to be something woven in with the thorns that made the walls of the enclosure that the local blood suckers didn't care for, and the mosquitoes mostly left them alone if they stayed near the walls. Smelled a bit like lavender, but if it was it was literally thousands of years removed from the varieties on Earth.

"Sir?" Carter said, "Do you think Daniel's okay?"

Other than to sit down, Daniel hadn't moved in hours. While the rest of them had moved closer to the walls, and followed the shade, Daniel had remained fixed and motionless, watching the gate, his confidence apparently unshaken by the growing silence or the passage of time.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Jack asked coolly.

"I heard the two of you last night," Carter persisted, her voice low to keep her remarks from carrying.

"So I gathered," Jack grunted.

"Sir, he's my friend too."

Jack sighed and sat back, looking at her, "He's a tough kid," he said, "And losing Sha're is not his first trip through Hell," he declined to mention that he wasn't sure that was what was really bothering Daniel right now, and said nothing about the phone call just prior to the mission.

"Yes sir, I remember," Carter reminded him quietly.

Carter was not only speaking of times since SG-1 had been formed, she had been there when the Keeper had forced Daniel to relive the death of his parents. Jack hadn't been there, but he knew the depth of the pain that had caused Daniel, because he knew the man so well, and because he'd known much grief of his own in similar ways.

"Have a little patience," Jack admonished, nodding in Daniel's direction, "He knows what he's doing."

"Yes sir," Carter sighed, knowing full well that there was something Jack wasn't saying, but also realizing that she wouldn't be getting anything else out of him.

Jack dozed off and on through the hot, humid afternoon. His skin felt sticky and damp, and the places where his flesh had been pierced by thorn or fang alternately itched and stung when sweat ran across them. But all things considered it qualified only as mildly unpleasant. Jack had been in much worse prisons, even prior to joining SG-1, and certainly since then.

He noticed Carter was either following his example, or concluding for herself that there really wasn't anything to do except pass time. Daniel remained firmly planted, watching the gate. Teal'c did his own thing, which seemed to be primarily conserving energy. Jaffa were much sturdier than humans in many ways, but Jack couldn't help but recall the amount of food Teal'c consumed regularly, and found himself wondering if there might not be a weakness there, as the Jaffa had to eat not only for himself, but for the larva which kept him alive as well. He didn't know what Teal'c's limits were. He'd never asked, and he didn't anticipate that Teal'c would have told him if he had.

Evening fell slowly, and Jack was beginning to think maybe Daniel had been being overly optimistic after all, when there were a series of hoots exchanged by howlers outside the enclosure. Daniel got to his feet a moment before the gate started to open, and the rest of the team followed suit.

Some howlers indistinguishable to Jack from the majority of their kind entered, dragging some woven baskets with lids in between them. The baskets looked about big enough to stuff the Minister's Cat inside, but of course the cat had been described as being both fat and huge the night before. The howlers dragged in three baskets in all, and one of them chattered at Daniel, then the animals left, pulling the gate shut behind them.

The team remained motionless until then. Jack had found out the hard way the day before while Daniel was trying to talk to Scar that there were monkeys on alert, ready to snap at any hands that happened to come near the gate. They'd missed him by a fraction of an inch, but Jack had already had one of them bite his hand, and he wasn't eager to repeat the painful experience.

Daniel was the closest to the baskets, and went to one and knelt beside it. He pulled off the lid, to reveal several varieties of what looked like fruit, only some of which was familiar to Jack.

"I'll be damned," Carter breathed too quietly for anyone but Jack to hear her.

"It's a start," Jack said, loud enough for all to hear.

"I told you," Daniel reminded him.

"And I believed you," Jack replied, "Now let's see if any of this stuff is edible."

Jack had learned on these missions that beggars couldn't be choosers, and you sometimes had to set aside any concerns about how poisonous some plant or meat might be. They still had whatever rations any of them had hidden in their pockets, but he still wanted to conserve that. He also didn't really want the monkeys to know they had the rations, any more than he wanted them picking up on the fact that Jack and Carter were still semi-armed. The less the monkeys knew, the better.

None of the fruit was the kind Jack was willing to write home about, but most of it was pretty juicy (which would make conserving water easier), and seemed fairly nutritious. Daniel tasted some things, then avoided them, saying when asked that it burned. However, Daniel did find some fruit more to his liking and ate that. Since Jack didn't experience that, he had to assume it was an allergic reaction. After all, Daniel was allergic to just about everything, and assuredly whatever antihistamines he'd taken before the mission were long out of his system.

But nobody got sick after eating the fruit, so Jack counted it as a success.


That night, it was Jack with the dreams. He didn't know when he woke up exactly which dream it had been, he just knew it had left him shaken, sweating and tense, his thoughts focused like a laser on Charlie, on the last time he'd seen his son alive. He let that familiar ache start to spread through him, staring up at the darkened sky, felt its weight on his chest.

A muffle sneeze distracted him, and he sat up, looking around for Daniel. He spotted Daniel sitting across the enclosure, as far away from his sleeping teammates as he could get. Jack got up and wandered over, setting himself down next to Daniel. Daniel sneezed again.

"Next time," Daniel said, sniffing as quietly as he could manage, "I'm putting the antihistamines in my pocket, instead of in my pack."

"That's probably a good idea," Jack whispered back.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Daniel asked, "I think we kept Sam up last night."

"I think so too," Jack replied, "But no. Three AM's the witching hour on alien planets, you know. Gotta keep a lookout for people whispering incantations or something."

Anybody else would have looked at Jack like they wondered if he was serious and, if so, how many fries were missing from his happy meal. But Daniel just looked at him like he knew. Not just that Jack wasn't being serious, but like he knew the real reason Jack was awake. In his quiet way, he saw Jack was getting mired in the past, stuck in that time that never felt far away, that he felt like he was drowning, and there wasn't a way out because there was nothing to do in here but think, and wait.

Not a day passed that Jack didn't think of Charlie, and he knew that there would always be nights he couldn't sleep for missing the boy, for the life that was lost forever on that fateful day. But mostly he had learned to be grateful for the time he'd had with Charlie, to cherish those memories and to greet each day with humor and lightness, because to do anything less would be to dishonor the memory of his son.

Daniel knew that about Jack, knew that nothing hurt him more than being stuck in past regrets. Sometimes Jack thought Daniel knew him better than he knew himself. And right now, Daniel knew Jack needed a distraction, something to help him get unstuck. When Daniel spoke next, it was with clear reluctance, but a willingness to do whatever was necessary to help Jack out of the dark place he'd fallen into tonight.

"His name is James Chianti," Daniel whispered, his voice barely audible.

Snapped out of reverie, Jack stared at Daniel for a few seconds, not sure what Daniel was on about. In the moment, he'd forgotten the phone call he'd been so interested in, and it seemed like Daniel had just plucked the name out of the air for no reason. It did get Jack's brain to shift gears however, forcing it to scramble to try and figure out what track Daniel had just turned onto.

Jack looked at Daniel quizzically, but the younger man pretended not to notice, purposely keeping Jack 'in the dark' so to speak, forcing the wheels in his brain to start turning, trying to find the context for this apparently random statement. He followed it up with another that was equally unilluminating.

"The name James means 'supplanter'," Daniel said, in his best educator's voice, then added with a quiet laugh that lacked the feel of humor, "I always thought that was a pretty accurate name for a man trying to replace my father. I learned the hard way not to mention that to any child psychologists."

Jack raised both eyebrows, "I don't know what was in that fruit you ate, but I think maybe you shouldn't eat any more of it."

Seeing Jack wasn't getting there on his own, Daniel turned his head and looked right at him, "You wanted to know who called me on the phone before we left. It was James Chianti, the first in a long... long line of foster parents I had."

"I take it your stay with him didn't go well," Jack guessed.

"No," Daniel agreed, with a heavy sigh, "No, it didn't."

Softly, Daniel explained that he hadn't spoken or even thought of James Chianti in years. For the better part of over twenty years, he'd been trying to (and mostly succeeding) forget James Chianti existed.

"The seventies wasn't exactly a good time to be an orphan," Daniel said, understating matters a bit, "My stay with him was supposed to be temporary. Just for a little while, until a next of kin could be located."

"I take it that's not how it worked out," Jack observed.

Jack knew that, of course. Before he'd ever laid eyes on Daniel, he'd read the file that had been put together for the archeologist and linguist who had unlocked the secret of the Stargate. But he had never been aware of the names of any of the foster parents that had taken Daniel in. Either they weren't in the file he'd been given... or he simply hadn't cared then.

"A couple of days turned into a few weeks, and then into a month," Daniel confirmed, "Then a month turned into more than that. Six months, more or less."

Jack shook his head, "That's a long time to an eight-year-old kid. Especially right after losing his parents."

"Eight and nine," Daniel corrected, as though it didn't matter so much.

But Jack understood what that meant immediately. Just like six months was an eternity at that age, birthdays were a huge deal. And Daniel had spent his ninth with a man he had by then learned to fear. Before the death of his parents, Daniel had never really known fear. After, he'd known little else. He didn't have to explain that to Jack. The colonel might not grasp the finer points of ancient history and culture, but he was intimately familiar with the darker aspects of life.

"Most of the people I lived with over the years were nice," Daniel said, again trying to soften the explanation of what had happened to him, "But sooner or later they had to choose between their goals or problems -or their own kids- and me. I guess a kid carrying around as much emotional baggage as I had was a bit of an inconvenience. I knew going in that the arrangements were temporary. I did okay."

Considering his clean record and doctorate achieved at an early age, Daniel had done more than okay. Of course, after getting his doctorate, Daniel had gone on to spout theories that nobody agreed with and so he was ostracized and finally kicked out entirely, which was how he'd landed in the Stargate Program. It was his last resort after he was fired and also kicked out of his apartment. But that was because he refused to be silenced. He'd known he was right, and fought for it.

In the end, he'd landed on his feet.

"Most of the people were nice," Daniel repeated, unusual for him, "But... I guess you probably know what kind of people can be attracted to the foster system. There's more restrictions and better monitoring than there was when I was a kid, but still..." he trailed off.

"How bad?" Jack asked, understanding the implications of Daniel's situation back then without it having to be spelled out in all of its ghastly detail.

Subconsciously, Daniel touched his left side with his hand as he replied, "Bad enough."

Jack didn't miss the gesture, even though Daniel hadn't realized he'd done it. For a moment, a hardness came to his dark eyes, then they softened with sympathy.

"Ah, Danny."

"Anyway," Daniel shrugged, trying to move on quickly, "Until that call, I hadn't heard from James in years. As far as I knew, he was still in prison."

"In prison?" Jack repeated with evident surprise.

"Yeah," Daniel said, "That's how I got out of that house. I got out..." he paused, fending off the unpleasant memory, "And I never looked back. I never heard from him again."

"Until he called you," Jack said.

"Until he called," Daniel confirmed.