Wayward Son / Sarah Connor Chronicles – No One is Ever Safe
by devra and JoaG
The debriefing was quick. Fraiser had phoned in a report to the General updating him on Teal'c's condition. It seemed to Jack that Hammond had nodded in all the right places, his questions were curt and it almost appeared that he was reading Jack's mind. He dismissed the contingent around the table in record time, expecting their written reports on his desk within forty-eight hours.
The others filed out and Jack held back, waiting.
"Go home, Colonel. Take your son and go home."
"Daniel wanted me to tell you thank you."
Hammond made a show of gathering up the papers on the table. "Forty-eight hours, Jack. Not before that. You and your report don't have to come back to the mountain for two—"
"Daniel's fine, sir. Unless you know something—Did Fraiser..." Panic. Absolute, unequivocal fear burned in his gut.
"Dear God, no, Jack. I'm sorry. Doctor Fraiser mentioned nothing about Daniel. Or John."
Jack exhaled. "About the Connors, sir. Let them go home."
"I opened the iris at the request of that boy. Let's not push it. I would feel more comfortable with that thing being contained."
"With all due respect, sir, but you saw what it can do. Pretty much nothing we have here will contain that girl."
"I'd rather not think like that, Colonel."
"Let them go home," Jack pleaded. "I'd rather they believe we're their friends. That we'd offer them safety should the need arise instead of them feeling as if we're making them our prisoners."
Hammond thought a moment.
Jack held his breath and attempted to remain still.
Hammond nodded. "Make it so, but you make sure to let the Connors know if they leave Colorado Springs, the military will be on their asses so fast they won't have to worry about Judgment Day."
________________________________________
John blinked incredulously at his mom, then turned towards Jack. "We can leave?"
"Yup," Jack nodded.
"But we can't leave town," Derek snarled. "We're just exchanging this prison for another."
"Shut up," John hissed at the man and Jack was damned surprised when the older man appeared to think twice before making a comeback. "Home is better than here..." He blushed. "I'm sorry, Colonel..."
"What John is trying to say is thank you." The Baum/Connor woman stuck out her hand but Jack didn't miss the glance she slid towards Reese.
He took her hand, shook it, but his glance was glued to John, who stared back longer than Jack would've given him credit for before dropping his gaze. Maybe there was something about this kid becoming mankind's savior. "Take your family home."
________________________________________
"I don't know how you do this on a daily basis," his grandmother said to his father as they walked her to Sam's car.
"It's not always this exciting, Ma."
"Exciting? Today was downright horrifying. And to make things worse, I still have no idea what happened, and I know you're not going to tell me."
"Just a visitor that got out of hand, Rose." Sam smiled at Daniel's grandmother as she unlocked the car doors.
"I saw you and John. Explain to me how an out of hand visit by a stranger," - everyone averted their attention at the mention of the "s" word – "ended up with my grandson covered in dirt? You and John go wrestling when you evacuated the base?"
Daniel shrugged his shoulders, keeping quiet was easier than lying. He waited for his grandmother to get into the car, and looked up in surprise when she reached a hand to his cheek.
"Go to bed early tonight. You look tired." She kissed his forehead, said goodbye to his dad, and got in Sam's car.
"I hate lying to her," Daniel said for the hundredth time as they walked to the Avalanche.
"I know." His dad brushed his nape with his fingers for a second. "I do, too. And she's right. You look tired."
"It's been a long day. And I still have homework to do," he sighed.
________________________________________
He'd tackled his homework with half a will. He was having trouble concentrating; the day's ordeal was constantly running through his head, making him jumpy despite his fatigue. He appeared to be running on the planet's time, confused because in his mind it was later than the six o'clock that his alarm clock read. And he had a headache that a Tylenol barely made a dent in. He was really tired, rubbing his eyes until the skin around the lids were dry and tender. After he found himself staring at a math problem for ten minutes with no idea on how to solve it, he put his books away, picked up his cell phone and called Alexandria. She'd be finished with supper by now. Forget the homework; he'd finish his assignments in the morning before class.
"Hi," Daniel said quickly when Alexandria answered.
"Daniel..."
"What's new?"
Silence. "Nothing."
"I, uh..." He picked at a stain on his pants with his nail during the awkward silence.
"You didn't call..."
"Honestly, I wasn't sure if you were talking to me."
"I'm not sure if I want to."
"Alexandria..."
"You weren't in school today."
"No. I was out of town," he said with relief at the subject change.
"Looks like everyone was out of town."
"What do you mean?" His stomach dropped at her words. Maybe calling had been a mistake.
"Nothing."
"You were expecting John to call?" he asked, deciding to go for broke.
"I didn't say that."
"Then what did you mean by that?"
"Just that... You both were away. I just thought... Maybe something had happened—"
"No. John and I have... Talked—"
"Daniel, you didn't!"
"Didn't wha— No, no. Well, maybe we got a little physical at first, but we're good now."
"Don't lie to me. Did he hurt you?"
"No. Well, maybe a few scrapes and bruises," he answered as he massaged a bruised thigh, "but honestly, John and I have come to an understanding. That's why I called you."
"So...?"
What?"
"Where'd you go?"
"My dad had a last minute business trip and decided to take me with him."
"So you missed the news?"
"What news?"
"The soccer field was ransacked. Coach Dawson had the cops there and everything."
"Really?"
"They trashed the benches so bad, we'll be standing for the rest of the season."
"Did they figure out who did it?" Daniel tried to keep his voice neutral and not portray anxiety of any kind. Praying that no one had seen him or John. Or Cameron.
"No. It's a real mystery. So... what are you doing? Wanna go to the mall?" The coldness was gone from her voice and she sounded like her old self.
"Now?" Leaving the house was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Yeah. Just for an hour? Some of the gang's gonna be there and I wanted to go look for a movie and..." Her voice suddenly turned shy. "Do you think you could ask John to come, too? And his sister," she added quickly, "of course."
"John and Cameron?"
"Yeah. It must be hard moving to a new town."
"Yeah, I guess," he said with a heavy heart, not quite sure if he wanted to share Alexandria with John quite yet.
"Besides, Corey's got a crush on Cameron."
"Corey's going to be at the mall?"
Alexandria's sigh was long and theatrical. "Yes, Corey's going to be at the mall. Hence the reason I wanted you to ask John and Cameron."
Daniel laughed, it would serve Corey right and maybe this would be the ultimate payback.
"Hey." Alexandria said with an indignant huff. "I'll admit, she's a little odd but she's okay."
Alexandria should only know that it was Corey he was laughing at and not Cameron. One learned never to laugh at someone who'd saved one's life. "Sorry. Yeah, I know. I'll see if they want to come. I'll call you back in a minute."
Daniel stood, groaning at his aching body. He found the number John had called yesterday in his recent calls and punched it in, slowly walking down the hall.
"Hello."
"Mrs., um, Baum?" Baum, Connor, he wasn't too sure what to call John's mother. "It's Daniel Jackson."
"Daniel." Her voice suddenly sounded wary. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes. I'm sorry to bother you. I was calling John to see if he wanted to join me and some friends at the mall, and I didn't have his number."
"It's not a bother. But I'm afraid he's not feeling that great right now."
Daniel could have smacked himself. He'd forgotten John had been sick. He contemplated asking to talk to John to tell him about Corey's crush on Cameron, but his mother wasn't even offering to pass the phone to John, so he decided not to ask. "Could you tell him I called? And that he's welcome to join us when he's feeling up to it."
"Of course." She hung up before he could say goodbye. He went downstairs to the den where his dad was watching television.
"Finished your homework?"
"Most of it," Daniel evaded. "Alexandria wants to go to the mall." He leaned a shoulder against the wall, one foot resting on the last step behind him.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
No, Daniel wanted to answer. He'd much rather take a hot shower and go to bed. "It's just for an hour," he said instead.
"And your homework?"
"I'll finish it tomorrow morning."
"Don't stay out too long."
"I won't." He pressed Alexandria's number on speed dial as he went back up the stairs, wincing at the stiffness in his knee.
________________________________________
John stood at the edge of the kitchen, staring unbelievingly at his mom. She tossed her phone onto the kitchen table and then started when she saw him standing there.
"That was for me, wasn't it?"
Her smile was forced as she walked over to him. "Daniel wanted to know if you wanted to go to the mall tonight. I told him you weren't feeling well." She raised a hand to push his bangs aside.
He pulled away from her touch. "You could have let me tell him that without making it sound like Johnny's too sick to go out and play."
"John, I didn't..." She sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry."
He walked around her, heading for the fridge and the juice he'd come into the kitchen for in the first place. He grabbed the orange juice and poured himself a large glass and drank it without coming up for air. It was cold, it was wet, and it didn't do much to slake his thirst except land in his stomach and set his head to pounding even more.
"You know, Daniel's the first person I think I could truly call a friend." He rinsed the glass and left it in a corner of the sink.
"You've had friends before."
"Not like him. We've got so much in common. Everyone else saw the person who I was supposed to be, the persona we'd made up during that time and place, and not the person I really am." He shivered, the chill of the juice in his stomach radiating outward and into the rest of his body. "Plus the fact that you wouldn't let me hang around with anyone, get close to anyone."
"You know why—"
"I know."
There was an awkward silence. "I thought you didn't like Daniel."
John shrugged. "I was wrong about him."
"Does the fact that Derek said you're going to be working with him in the future have anything to do with changing your mind about him?"
"No. It actually started with him being able to hold his own in a fight. And the fact that he didn't freak when he realized someone was shooting at him. And that he could think under pressure. And that I didn't feel responsible for him," John softly added.
"Sounds like he's been well trained."
John nodded slowly, careful of his headache as he started making his way back to his bedroom. His body ached from the soles of his feet to his scalp. "I'd like to get to know him, see what he's learned, trade tactics and stuff."
"And hang out with him just because you like him?"
John managed a small smile. "Yeah. That, too."
His mom followed him into his bedroom and this time he didn't object when she pulled the blankets up and touched his cheek with the back of her hand.
"Your fever's up."
"Tylenol hasn't kicked in yet." He shivered, bringing his legs to his chest.
She sat down on the bed and put a hand on his leg.
"It's been a while since you were this feverish."
"I know."
"If Daniel calls again, I'll let you talk to him."
"He won't call," John said through chattering teeth.
"Hey. I told him you were sick. He's mature enough to understand; otherwise he's certainly not worthy to be called a friend." When she kissed his cheek, her lips felt cool on his skin. "Get some sleep."
"Wake me," John swallowed. "Soon. I have homework."
"Yeah. Sure." His mother said as she fixed his blanket. "Homework. You'll get right on that."
John wasn't exactly sure, and he'd have to ask his mother when she woke him, but there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice that John didn't understand. Nope. Didn't get it at all.
________________________________________
"Thanks." Daniel put a hand on the door handle and looked at Alexandria.
"For leaving early? Phttt." Alexandria smiled at Daniel. "Corey was boring, going on and on about Cameron."
Pushing the door open, Daniel got out slowly. "Want to come in for a while?" he asked, still feeling awkward with Alexandria. He missed the way he'd been able to say anything to her; now, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. It had been easier in a group; he'd just stayed on the sidelines, pleading fatigue when someone had commented on how quiet he was tonight.
"Sure." She slipped out of the van and together, they walked up the driveway and into the house. As they began to climb the steps, she reached for his hand. Some of his anxiety eased at the feel of her fingers between his.
"Dad, we're home," he yelled, slamming the door behind them. He could hear the drone of a hockey announcer coming from downstairs. The lure of the game didn't appeal to him and he headed for the kitchen, grabbed two Snapples and handed one to Alexandria.
"Can we sit outside for a while?" She put the drink down unopened on the countertop. Daniel shook his, snapped the lid and gulped down half of it before sliding open the patio doors. She sat on the top step and patted the wooden slats next to her. Daniel sat next to her, downed more of his drink, and then winced as the chill gave him a brain freeze headache. The silence between them was an almost tangible thing and Daniel cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I'm sorry." He rolled the nearly empty bottle of Snapple in his palms, until Alexandria took it away from him and put it down next to her. She took his hands in hers, the heat of her skin hot against his condensation-dampened fingers.
"Shhhh." She kissed the tips of his fingers, staring at him over their clasped hands. The light from the kitchen backlit her, illuminating only the half of her face that faced the window. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
"Yes, there is. I've been an asshole and—"
"We went through some serious shit, Daniel, no pun intended." Her mouth quirked into a smile. "It's over and done with."
"No, it's not. You got hurt again, and it was all because of me." The party fiasco, the drugs, his attitude, he'd give anything to go back and change things. Put things back the way they had been.
"Stop it." She gave his hands a hard shake. "None of it was your fault."
"But I—"
"Was an asshole. We both agree on that. Let's just move on, okay?"
Daniel sighed, blinking back tears. He leaned against her and she let go of his hands to wrap an arm around his waist. He lowered his head, resting it against her shoulder. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. Alexandria shifted, turning towards him, and put her other arm around him, holding him there. He felt the weight of her head against his, the puffs of her breath warm against his ear.
"We're good, right?" she asked softly after a while.
Daniel nodded, too full of emotion to speak. As he took a long, shaky breath and let it out, he felt her lips touch his temple.
________________________________________
"Daniel." Loud knocking on his door followed his dad's irritated call. "If you don't get up now, you're going to miss your bus."
Groaning, Daniel turned onto his back, stretching his legs to try and ease the ache that the position caused. "I'm up."
"That's what you said the last two times. Are you sick?"
"No." He had to turn onto his side in order to sit up. "Just stiff." He sat there, head hanging for a moment, wishing he could materialize in the shower without having to walk there. "Why don't I feel this awful when I train with Teal'c?" He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed a clean shirt from a drawer.
"Because you hold back when you're training. When you're out there and it's for real, it's a totally different experience. Plus, you spent a good amount of time running on adrenaline yesterday. You pull and strain muscles without realizing it at the time."
Daniel walked past his dad, trying not to limp. "Muscles? I think I strained my whole body."
The shower felt wonderful, and he'd have stayed there until the hot water ran out. Unfortunately, his dad was right, and as it was, he'd have to skip breakfast in order to make the bus. As he dried off and dressed, he realized he'd planned on finishing his homework before heading off to school. Now it looked like he'd have to do it in the bus.
________________________________________
John's head hurt. Didn't make a difference that his mom had closed the blinds last time she'd been in to check on him. Or that she'd shut the light or even that he was buried under a mountain of blankets or had forced a Motrin on him no matter how much he groaned. Nothing seemed to help.
Slowly, John shifted positions and for a second his muscles protested the movement, shivering in objection at the cool spot on the sheets he settled into.
The door to his room opened and snatches of his mother's voice interspersed with Cameron's and Derek's floated in. The blankets may have muffled the words somewhat, but not the intensity and pitch in which they were delivered.
"I thought you said he was done with the fevers." His mom was pissed, actually John would be pissed also if he had the energy, but for now, he'd let his mom be angry enough for the both of them.
"John is actually the first human who has come in contact with the nanotechnology and has survived."
"Survived? How come this is the first I'm hearing of this?"
Right now, John didn't think he was surviving at all and if he knew his mom wouldn't hunt him down and kill him, he'd be happy to just permanently rest in peace.
"Humans aren't considered worth saving should they become infected."
Earlier, when she'd come bearing Motrin and a Snapple, John had attempted to explain to her that this was different. He felt different than before. The fever felt different. The sore muscles. The constant thirst. She'd given him a little placated nod, smoothed back his bangs and fluffed his pillow again for the thousandth time. But she hadn't listened.
"Jesus, it's like an oven in here." Derek's complaint reverberated inside John's skull. "Maybe we need to open a window. Give the poor guy some fresh air."
"No," John croaked as he pushed the covers down and turned onto his back. "Don't touch the windows."
"He lives," Derek said. Affection. Worry. Great, it either had to be his birthday or he had to be at death's door for his uncle to focus on him and not his future self.
His mother's hand was cold again his cheek and she had that 'mother knows best' grin on her face. "Motrin brought the fever down a little."
Cameron's hand skirted across his neck and John saw as his mother gazed at her expectantly. "Well?"
"Yes, Motrin brought the fever down a little." Cameron didn't have the same grin his mother had, maybe this was one of those times she felt it necessary to lie.
"How about you come downstairs for a while? Join humanity?"
He wanted to say no, that just the thought of making his body move out of bed and walk down a flight of stairs was enough to have him beg for mercy, but he couldn't. If sitting on the couch and staring at the TV for an hour or two would wipe that expression off his mother's face, John would get downstairs if he had to crawl on his hands and his knees.
Derek's voice had been filled with affection and worry. His mother? Her tone bypassed affection and worry, topping it off with an unhealthy dose of fear and a side of terror. She looked old and frail, two words he'd never thought he'd use in his lifetime to describe her. John felt incredibly guilty. "Downstairs sounds like a plan, Mom," he said as he pushed the blanket to the side. "I'm not going to school today, am I?"
"Nope."
"Being out puts us on the radar."
"Leaving school in an ambulance when you pass out is a tad more attention getting. Staying home is safer."
"No one is ever safe," John whispered.
________________________________________
He managed getting downstairs without passing out or puking up his guts, which, in his honest opinion, was probably the most messiah-like deed he'd ever done. Spent, John dropped down into the sofa, hiding his groan of discomfort behind a moan of contentment as soon as he settled into the cushions.
His mother fussed.
John endured, though her constant attention was making him nervous. On a daily basis his mother was basically up his ass, but this, this was almost stifling. Coming downstairs to make her happy was one thing, having her hovering was a horse of a different color.
"Why don't you step away from the poor kid?" Derek had a hand on his mother's arm, trying to pull her back. "You're breathing all his air."
"That's not possible. There's an abundance of breathable—"
"It's just a saying," she snapped at Cameron.
"Thank you for—"
"Explaining, yeah, I got that." His mom turned towards Derek with fire in her eyes. "You, step away from me."
"I'm only—"
"I'm going back to my room." John made a show of pushing himself off the couch. It was all an act, because there was no way he'd be able to get back up the stairs.
________________________________________
John must have made his point because five minutes later, after bringing him a bottle of Snapple, his mother and Derek scattered. Oh, they were watching from various vantage points, but they weren't within arm's length.
He stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes, sounds of his mother in the kitchen was his lullaby.
"You're sick."
John opened one eye. "No shit, Sherlock. Brilliant deduction." In his fevered state, Cameron appeared hurt by his words. "Sorry," he said, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't mean for it come out that way."
"Thank you for explaining."
"My pleasure."
"Go to sleep, John."
Obediently, John closed his eyes without question, not even opening them when he felt the familiar weight of a blanket placed over his body and the feather light touch of Cameron's hand across his neck.
________________________________________
Daniel headed straight for his bedroom, bypassing the kitchen for his usual after-school snack. He dropped his schoolbag by the door, toed off his shoes and climbed into his unmade bed, pulling the blankets over him. All day long, he'd dreamed of stretching out; the aches and pains had gotten progressively worse, along with a nagging headache.
He'd have to get up in a half hour and start supper. The thought of food made him nauseous, though. Finally after several restless minutes, he got up and swallowed a couple of Tylenol, dumped leftover pasta into an ovenproof dish and stuck it in the oven, then headed back for bed. At least his dad's supper would be hot and Daniel would settle for cereal or toast.
A moment later, he pulled out the elastic band holding his ponytail. He brushed his fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp. For some reason the pressure of his pulled-back hair was making his headache worse. He tossed the elastic onto the night table and turned on his side.
He woke up with a start, turning in a panic until at the sight of his dad leaning over him, he realized that his dad's touch had woken him up.
"You feeling okay?"
He fell back onto his pillow. "Just tired."
"You feel warm."
"I'm fine." He struggled to sit up. "Okay, maybe not so fine," he said weakly as the room began to spin. "Aw, shit. Why do I have to get sick on a Friday night?" he moaned as he fell back onto his bed.
"I'll be right back." His dad left the bedroom and Daniel pulled the blankets up again, the air suddenly feeling chilly. Then his dad was back, armed with a thermometer, Tylenol and water.
A few minutes later, the thermometer confirmed what Daniel had feared. "102.4."
"Great. I've caught the flu." He shook his head when his dad began shaking out the Tylenol. "I took some already."
"When?"
"When I came home."
"It's been a couple of hours. Won't hurt to take another dose."
He took the pills, swallowed a sip of water and suddenly realized he was very thirsty. He gulped the water down, pulling the bottle away from his mouth only when it was empty.
"What'd you eat for lunch?"
"They had meatloaf," Daniel said evasively.
"I didn't ask what they were serving, I asked what you ate."
"Some of Alexandria's Jell-O," he finally admitted.
"How does a hard boiled egg and some toast sound?"
Daniel groaned and turned his head. "Not really hungry," he said into his pillow.
"Soup and crackers?"
"Water?"
"Okay, let's compromise. Egg drop soup. Protein, liquids, salt."
"Fine," Daniel sighed. "Oh, your supper's in the oven."
"I know. I'll eat it later," his dad said as he stood.
"Dad? I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Getting sick."
The bed dipped as his dad leaned his weight on his hand against the mattress. "Hey. Getting sick isn't something you do on purpose." He pushed the loose strands of hair out of Daniel's eyes and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back in a minute."
Daniel managed half the soup and two triangles of toast before pushing the tray away. He was settling back down in bed when he remembered.
"How's Teal'c?"
His dad's face suddenly changed; a look of, not quite disgust but, dislike, Daniel thought. "Fraiser operated on Junior today. Well, actually, from what she said, she put three stitches in to close a wound. We're hoping it starts healing itself soon so it can work on Teal'c."
"So he's sick?"
"Fraiser's got him pumped up with antibiotics and painkillers. He's no worse than he was yesterday but it's just a matter of time before his lack of an immune system starts to truly affect him."
"Can we look for another symbiote?"
"It's not that simple, not like we can go out with rod and tackle and go fish one up. But Bra'tac's aware of the situation so maybe he's got an ear out, just in case."
"I wish I could do something to help."
"Get some sleep. That's help enough."
Daniel nodded, feeling guilty that he hadn't even thought of Teal'c today because he'd been concentrating too much on his own budding flu.
________________________________________
Oh God. One minute John was sleeping, the next minute he wasn't. The air surrounding him was stifling and the mere act of breathing was a struggle. And thirsty, he was so thirsty. Throwing back the covers, he flipped onto his back, reveling as the coolness of the air dried the sweat covering his body. The weight of the air lifted and he was able to fill his lungs, but the thirst didn't abate.
It took two tries before he was able to pull himself up to a sitting position and it took only seconds for the three Musketeers to appear by his side.
"What do you need?" His mother asked, standing opposite him, flanked by Derek and Cameron, the coffee table the only protection between him and their concern.
He held up his hands, trying to manufacture enough spit to even answer them. "Water," John finally croaked.
"I'll get it."
"No. I'll get it." Slowly, very slowly, using his hands to push his butt upright, John stood. He fought the urge to sway, focusing on three sets of eyes waiting for him to fall. "I'm just getting a drink. Stay," he urged, "be right back."
Those three sets of eyes followed him. He could feel them boring a hole right through to his damn stubborn psyche as he shuffled his way out of the living room into the kitchen. Thankfully, the layout of this home was different and they lost sight of him once he stepped into the kitchen.
He'd been fine. Well, not really fine, but he'd felt better once he'd thrown back the blanket, stood and began to walk. Until he opened the fridge and then he was hit by the same feelings he'd woken with, except now, there was no blanket and the fridge temperature set forth a tsunami of shivers.
John's vision blurred, the fridge's contents melded together then crystallized into bright pinpoints of color and light. Thirst forgotten, replaced by nausea, he slammed the fridge shut. He tried to breathe through it, resting his forehead against the cool metal of the fridge door, counting slowly, refocusing. And it worked. Or it would've worked if the migraine hadn't broadsided him.
"Mom," he whimpered, hating the sound of his own voice. Weak, childish, neither a savior nor messiah in sight - he needed help. He turned around, pressed his back against the fridge door and allowed it to be his guide on his descent to the kitchen floor.
"Mom," John tried again. "Please." He brought his knees to his chest, and buried his head under his crossed arms. "It hurts."
The hand against the back of his neck was ice cold but it felt so damn good that he lifted his head up and back, trapping the coolness between the fridge door and the nape of his neck.
"Damn, he's burning up."
"Mom?" The sliver of light slipping in through his barely opened lids was deadly and though he tried not to, a moan of pain escaped his lips.
"Right here, John. Not going anywhere." His mom reached out and grabbed Cameron's hand, placing it on his neck. "Scan," she ordered.
________________________________________
"The Motrin's no longer helping. John's temperature is dangerously high and he's in danger of—"
"We can't take him to the hospital."
"I know," John gasped, one hand cupped over his eyes. "No. Hospital."
"Shush." Sarah glared at Derek, making a slicing motion across her throat. Hoping he took it as the universal symbol to keep quiet, though she actually meant it as she was going to kill him.
The doorbell rang.
"Damn it," Sarah yelled. "You," she said, pointing at Cameron, "answer the door. And you," she said, pointing at Derek. "Instead of just standing there stating the obvious, get me a wet washcloth."
She sat on the floor and with extreme gentleness, pulled John into her embrace. "I got you. I promise it'll be okay."
He came forward reluctantly, whimpering as he buried his face against her neck.
Coming to Colorado had been stupid. The end had not justified the means. At this point in time they still weren't in possession of the Turk. There had been another machine after John and now? She kissed the top of his head, rocking back and forth as if she were soothing him after a nightmare. Damn, she needed Charley.
"I answered the door." Cameron loomed over her and John, Rose by her side.
"Now's not a good time, Rose."
"Should I make her go away?" Cameron asked.
"No!" That was all they needed.
"Rose is here?" John turned his face, tentatively lowering his hand.
"Right here, honey." Rose squatted down then cupped John's cheek, her eyes widened as soon as she touched him. "Oh."
"I know."
Derek entered the room, a dripping washcloth in one hand, a blanket in the other. "What the hell is she doing here?" He cocked his chin in Rose's direction.
"Give me the washcloth." Rose waggled her fingers at Derek, ignoring his remark. She snapped her fingers in his direction when he hesitated.
Sarah felt John stiffen when the washcloth touched the back of his neck.
"When did the fever start?" Rose moved the washcloth around, no matter how much John attempted to squirm out of her reach.
"Yesterday. Motrin isn't working."
"We need to bring the fever down. Let's get John in the shower." Rose stood, holding onto the fridge door for support.
Derek was by Sarah's side in an instant, forcing his way in front of Cameron, reading her mind. The last thing they wanted was for Cameron to haul John to his feet and fling him over her shoulder like he was a rag doll.
"Come on, John."
" 'K."
John tried, with Derek's arm hooked around his waist, Sarah on the other side and Cameron bringing up the rear, he really made an attempt, and actually got halfway across the kitchen before becoming a limp weight in their arms. Sarah and Derek dropped with him, the sudden shift in weight pulling them down.
"Fuck." The curse shot from Derek's mouth as he fought to remain upright and failed. Sarah was having no better luck, Cameron reached out, grabbed the back of John's shirt, but he fought her.
"Let him go," Sarah insisted, reaching up and tugging at Cameron's hand.
She did, opened her hand, released her grip and John dropped to the floor, landing on all fours. Head down, John began to heave, rocking back and forth as he attempted to empty his stomach.
"Get me something," Sarah yelled.
Derek scrambled up, but Rose was quicker, handing her an entire roll of paper towels while Cameron stood there clutching a kitchen towel. But John's desire to vomit was unproductive, and he collapsed into a fetal ball by Sarah's side.
"He needs a hospital." Rose reached for the phone. "An ambulance. The fever. The nausea—"
Sarah rubbed John's back. "Put the phone down. No hospital. We—"
"Talk to her," Derek whispered. Pushing her hand aside, he took over rubbing John's back. "She can't call. We can't—"
"Get the blanket and cover John." Sarah stood, walked over to Rose, took the phone from her, flicked it off and placed it back on the holder.
"How can you do that?" Rose demanded. "He's in pain. He's sick. He's your son."
"I need another option. Something. John can't go to a hospital."
"What kind of mother are you?"
"Sarah is John's mother." Cameron spoke the sentence, leaving no room for argument, thankfully shutting Rose up.
Sarah took a breath and plowed forward. "We left California because there are people that want to murder my son. Bringing him into a hospital will alert them... And we won't be able to protect him."
"You're being paranoid."
Cameron stood in front of Rose, blocking her view of John. "Yesterday, someone tried to kill Daniel and John."
Sarah watched Rose's resolve bend just a little. "Do you still believe we're being paranoid?"
"No," Rose said, shaking her head slowly at Cameron, her face going white as realization kicked in.
Sarah hated asking anyone for help, but this was her son. This wasn't her. Or Derek. This was John. "Please," she begged, "We're trying to save John's life. Can you help us?"
________________________________________
Rose had come up with an alternative option. One that Sarah hadn't been comfortable with, one that Derek had remained silent about and Cameron was ready to throw John over her shoulder in her haste to get him there. The SGC. Sarah wasn't sure how she felt about ending up back at the hole in the mountain, but there was no other choice. Her back was against the wall and she knew in her heart this was more than the run of the mill flu. Or migraine. And after one phone call they were on their way, despite Sarah's misgivings.
Sarah was eternally gratefully that Rose didn't drive like most old women she'd ever had the privilege of knowing. Derek sat up front facing forward, his right hand gripping the overhead 'oh shit' handle. John was lying with his head in Sarah's lap and she was wiping his face with the already dried out washcloth. Cameron sat, one hand resting on John's leg while her gaze was trained on John's face.
"How are you doing back there?"
A quick scan and Cameron answered with more information than Sarah felt comfortable with. "John's temperature is 105.2. His heartbeat is rapid. Respirations are shallow—"
"He's sick," Sarah answered, cutting off the rest of Cameron's medical diatribe. "Really sick," she confirmed, glaring at the tin girl.
________________________________________
"What are you doing?" Sarah demanded, grabbing the petite doctor's arm as she skirted around her.
The doctor... Fraiser, that was it, pried her fingers from her arm. "I'm not telling you again, Mrs. Baum, you need to stand away from the bed. You want me to treat your son, I can't do it—"
"What are you doing to John?"
"You, young lady." Fraiser pointed to the corner. "Go stand there, preferably facing the wall. Cyborg or not," she hissed so that Rose wouldn't hear, "you don't scare me, I'm the parent of a teenager."
Derek stormed up and gripped the foot of John's bed.
"Stop right there, mister. This is my infirmary. I don't care what future you came from, there will be no posturing."
"Derek, come here." Rose linked her arm through his and pulled. "Let Janet do her job. Sarah, you, too, come on."
"No." Sarah stared at the doctor. "I'm not moving."
"Fine. You don't want to go? Have it your way, but if I have to tell you to move one time, you're out of here."
________________________________________
The hustle around John had slowed. The iso room was hushed, the lights lowered, the only constants were the medical equipment and the sound of Derek pacing back and forth. Cameron stood in the corner, Rose sat in one of the chairs, offering Sarah a slight smile every time they made eye contact.
Fraiser had said there was a possibility whatever John had was contagious. Honestly, she couldn't care. Her life right now didn't exist outside of these four walls. She picked up his hand, her thumb running over the barely visible yellowish blotch. "I'm sorry."
John shifted.
He wasn't going to wake up. Fraiser had explained to her that he was being pumped with enough drugs that he wasn't feeling any pain. He wasn't feeling anything.
John shifted again, this time with more strength and purpose in mind. Drugs or no drugs, he didn't sleep on his back. Never had. Not as a child and definitely not as a teenager.
Should she stop him? Probably, but the mere act of John being John when he was in a horizontal position gave her hope and more than a little bit of satisfaction that her son was fighting back. The cacophony of monitor alarms was deafening, though expected, as one by one leads disconnected as John searched for a comfortable position.
Medical staff came out of the woodwork, and the once quiet room was awash with shouted orders. Sarah held onto his hand, pushing back those who pushed at her. John? John fought back, sixteen years of her words imbedded in his brain and his instinct was to run.
"Mom?" John whipped his head from side to side, eyes opened, unseeing, just sensing danger.
"I'm here."
But he wasn't. Feverish delusions had taken John away to a place where running meant survival.
The more John struggled, the more intense and invasive the medical staff became.
Peripherally, Sarah noticed Cameron purposely stride towards the fray, ready to do battle.
"Stop!" Sarah yelled. Surprisingly, everyone stopped in their tracks but if looks could kill, based on Fraiser's expression, Sarah would be dead where she lay, across John's body.
"Get away from him, or I'll strap you down to the empty bed over there."
She ignored the threat, turned her back on the doctor and used her weight to pin John to the bed. "You don't need to run," she whispered in his ears. "You're safe," Sarah lied, hating herself.
"Nooneiseversafe. Nooneiseversafe. Noone—"
"Shush." Sarah pressed her cheek against John's. "Today you're safe with me. I promise."
________________________________________
Sarah checked to make sure the bathroom door was closed. Checked it twice just to be on the safe side. Peed. Flushed. Washed her hand and scrubbed at her face, all the while never gazing in the tiny mirror over the sink. She dried her hands, tossed the paper towel in the garbage then turned the water back on to cover the sound of her vomiting.
Emptying her stomach contents didn't make her feel any better or any worse. Puking didn't make her heart hurt any less or make the fear go away. It just made her feel lonely and scared and horribly out of control.
She washed up again and the extra soap she used caused her eyes to burn and tear, no matter how many times she splashed cold water on them.
"Sarah?" The knock on the bathroom door wasn't tentative, but the voice was.
"I'll be right out, Derek." Hastily, Sarah ran wet fingers through her hair, patted her face dry on the arm of her long sleeved tee shirt and ventured a glance in the mirror. She looked like crap.
"I'm sorry I took so—"
Derek grabbed her by her forearms and pushed her backwards, right back into the bathroom, blocking her exit with his body.
"I'd lock the door, but I don't want to turn my back on you."
"Smart move. Do you need help going to the bathroom?"
"No, but I think you need some help."
"Get the fuck out of my way, Reese."
"No."
"You have no right, that's my son out there."
"That's my brother's child out there." Derek carded his fingers through his hair. "I didn't want this to turn into an argument."
"This what? What did you think this would be?"
"I wanted you to know that you're not in this alone. John's my nephew, the closest thing to my brother that I'll ever have. Those are Reese genes lying in that bed."
"He's my son," Sarah said softly.
"He's my nephew."
"This isn't King Solomon's court. I'm not splitting my son in half."
"Ah, jeeze," Derek replied, pounding the wall. "I'm not asking you to."
"Then what the hell are you asking?"
"To share the goddamn burden. To stop thinking you're in this alone."
"I don't trust you."
"Hell, I'm not even sure I like you."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better about this?" Sarah shook her head.
"We both love John."
"No. I love John, you love him because he's your brother's son. Big difference. Huge
difference. A whole world of difference."
"You don't even know your own son; you're so hell bent on keeping the kid alive that you're losing him."
"Let me out of here."
Derek reached around his body and clicked the lock. "No. Why is it so friggin' hard for you to just share the burden? We're..." Derek swallowed as if the word stuck in his throat. "Family."
"Family?" Sarah gave a snort of disdain. "You tell me I'm a horrible mother, then follow it up with 'share the burden'."
"I didn't mean... I think... Do you know that you're..."
"A bitch?"
"Just the type of woman my hard assed brother would fall for? Stubborn as a mule. Puts words in my mouth."
"I didn't put—"
"Yeah, you did."
Sarah gave the slightest of smirks. "I'm not a terrible mother."
"Ah, putting words in my mouth again. Never said that. Said you don't know him."
"Neither do you. You think that you do, because you know—"
"John's a teenager with, quite literally, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He needs you to be his mother and not his first in command."
"Damn you, Derek Reese." Sarah moved away, averting her face.
A pounding on the door was followed by Cameron's voice. "Do you need assistance?"
"No," they answered simultaneously.
"Just checking. Rose—"
"We're fine."
"Be out in a minute."
Sarah rubbed her eyes, waited until she heard Cameron's footsteps then turned towards Derek. "You're nothing like your brother."
"And you, the infamous Sarah Connor, are nothing like I imagined."
She quirked an eyebrow in response. "How should I take that?"
"John... The John that I know... Has a very distorted image of you."
"Yeah?"
"He speaks about you with such reverence that I expected—" He drew a breath. "A saint."
"Disappointed to find I'm only human?"
"Kinda nice, actually."
"I still don't trust you, Reese."
"Still not sure if I like you, Sarah Connor." Derek unlocked the door. "But isn't that what family is all about?"
________________________________________
Jack woke up with the knowledge that something was wrong. Turning around in bed, he scanned the bedroom until he spotted Daniel standing in the doorway.
"What's the matter?"
Daniel didn't answer. He didn't move, but simply stood there, his form a darker shadow in the dim room.
"Are you feeling sick? Did you have a nightmare?"
At Daniel's continued silence, Jack shoved the blankets aside and sat up. Before his feet touched the ground, Daniel suddenly crumpled, going down hard and fast.
Jack didn't remember getting out of bed; one moment he was sitting up, the next he was kneeling, rolling Daniel into his arms, the unnatural heat coming off him all he needed to know.
Hurrying to the bathroom, Jack turned the light on, grabbed a towel, stuck it under the faucet and ran back to Daniel. A few dabs of cold water against his heated face and neck, and Daniel began to moan and stir. When he opened his eyes, Jack forced a smile. "Hey, Icky."
"What...?" Daniel looked around, seeming disoriented.
"Let's get you in bed. Think you can stand up?"
"Yeah."
Jack sat Daniel up and then helped him to his feet. He seemed shaky and nearly collapsed onto Jack's bed. He curled up into a ball as Jack pulled the blankets over him, only to have Daniel shove them aside.
"My head hurts."
"Let me take your temperature, then I'll get you something for your headache."
Hurrying to Daniel's bedroom, he found the thermometer he'd left there as well as the Tylenol. The blankets on his bed were half on the floor, half on the bed, evidence of Daniel's restless sleep.
A few minutes later, Jack sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the thermometer which read 104.2. He stood, got some water from the bathroom and waited until Daniel had swallowed the pills and the water. Then he grabbed his cell and called the infirmary.
"Fraiser."
"Doc, you still there?"
"Colonel O'Neill? I was just about to call you. Is Daniel all right?"
"Actually, no, he's not. He's running a high fever and passed out just a few minutes ago."
"Sir, I need you to get him here ASAP."
"You said you were about to call—"
"It's John Baum. His mother brought him in earlier with a high fever, joint and muscle pain, and headache. At first we thought it was just a setback to his earlier illness but Teal'c's started to exhibit similar symptoms."
"You think Daniel's got the same thing?"
"I won't know until I run some tests but if Daniel's sick, I think it's most likely that yes, they picked up something on that planet."
"What if the Baum kid's contagious? What if he gave whatever he got to Daniel and Teal'c?"
"Cameron insists the original problem wasn't contagious."
"We'll be there in thirty."
He grabbed Daniel's sneakers and coaxed him to sit up. He put the sneakers on Daniel's feet. Stretched out and well worn, they were still a struggle to get Daniel's feet into them without bothering to untie the laces. Then he grabbed his bedspread and wrapped him in it. "Come on."
"My head hurts," Daniel repeated, leaning against Jack, making it hard for them to advance, Jack holding Daniel and the blanket up, making sure his son didn't take another header.
"I know. Fraiser's gonna try and make it better. But we gotta get there first."
"Janet?"
"Yeah, she's waiting for us." Daniel took a few more steps, and then Jack wrapped his arm around him, holding him close as he unlocked the door single handedly. Once they were outside, the cooler air seemed to rouse Daniel.
"We're going to the hospital?"
"Infirmary. At the mountain." He unlocked the Avalanche with his remote.
"I'm sick." Daniel swept the edge of the blanket aside so he wouldn't trip over it going down the walkway.
"Yeah. Looks like you might have picked up a virus." Jack opened the truck's door and helped Daniel inside. He took a moment to pull the seatbelt over the blanket, clicked it secure, and shut the door. By the time he got behind the wheel, Daniel was leaning against the window, his eyes closed.
________________________________________
When Jack pulled up in front of the main entrance, Fraiser was already there with a wheelchair. Robed, gloved and masked, she opened the truck's door and immediately began assessing Daniel.
"Sir," she said as she unclipped the seatbelt, "I'm going to need you to put a mask on. There's one on the seat of the chair." Daniel was unresponsive until she pulled the blanket away. Then he moaned and tried to reach for it. Jack waited a moment, watching, waiting until Daniel settled, then got out of the truck and did as Fraiser asked.
"I'm putting both of you in an Iso room until we figure out what this is." She tied a mask around Daniel's mouth also, then motioned for the medics to come and put Daniel in the chair.
At the sight of his son's body sitting limp in a wheelchair, Jack had to turn his head for a moment. This scene was something he'd seen too often in the past year and each time it broke his heart to see Daniel so sick.
The large Isolation Room already had two patients: John Baum and Teal'c. There was a third bed, empty, waiting for Daniel. Sarah Baum and Derek Reese he'd expected to be there, sitting in chairs against the wall, as well as the cyborg. It was the sight of his mother that shocked Jack.
"Mom?"
"Jonathan." She got up from the chair she'd been sitting on and hurried to his side.
"What are you doing here?" He put an arm around her and together, they watched as Daniel was placed on a bed and examined.
"John was sick and Sarah was afraid to bring him to the hospital. Coming to the SGC was my idea, so Janet insisted I stay." She smiled weakly in the wake of Jack's worry. "I'm fine. This is just a precaution."
"Is it contagious?"
"Janet thought it was but she was saying something about how the virus is attacking open wounds on their skin, creating a systemic infection." His mom looked tired, Jack noted, as she pushed back a lock of stray hair. "She thinks it's probably something they came into contact with so General Hammond is having someone check out the last places they've been to in the past couple of days. But we're stuck here until they find out for sure."
"But if it's a virus," Sarah said from behind Jack, startling him as he hadn't heard her approach, "there's not much your doctors can do for them."
"You'd be surprised." Jack spoke with more confidence than he felt. "How's John doing?" A glance at the boy in the other bed showed him to be not much better off than Daniel.
"Not so good." Sarah's voice was almost a whisper. "His fever's so high."
The woman looked scared. Jack knew how she felt. The only difference was, if she was right and not the raving lunatic she had been accused of being several years ago, her son was the only means of mankind's salvation. If John died, all hope for humanity died with him.
"Colonel?"
Jack turned to Fraiser, who was waving him over. She'd set up an IV and two nurses were sponging Daniel down.
"He's showing the same symptoms." She pointed at several red and inflamed areas on Daniel's hands, arms and legs where he'd suffered cuts and scrapes. "I think this is how the virus entered his system, through open wounds."
"So he's not contagious?"
"I wouldn't go touching him without gloves, but I think I can let you out of here and back into a VIP suite if SG-7's findings corroborate my theory."
"They went back to the planet?" He kept his voice low so his mother wouldn't overhear.
"Sam's gone with them, retracing their steps."
"So we don't have to worry about Daniel infecting everyone in school and the people in the mall?"
Fraiser gave Jack a startled look, her eyes widening over her mask. "Oh, please don't tell me he went to school today?"
"And to the mall the night before with Dria and his friends."
"Was he sick then?"
"He was tired; I thought it was from all the excitement of the day. But now that you mention it, he didn't look that great this morning, and tonight he was already in bed when I got home."
Fraiser took a deep breath. "Quarantine would be next to impossible if this is something virulent."
"How long before SG-7 return?"
"I don't know. A few hours."
"Great." He decided to let Fraiser worry about an epidemic. He was going to worry about his son. If this ended up being a worst-case scenario, those robots wouldn't have to worry about taking over the world; chances were the virus would have already done the job for them.
________________________________________
The blankets were heavy and stifling. Daniel tried to shove them away, but somehow the blankets were cement-lined, impossible to budge. Just the act of trying to push the coverings aside hurt, and his joints ached from the effort.
"Hey, Icky."
Recognizing his dad's voice, Daniel managed to crack his eyelids open. They felt gritty and his eyelids were swollen, and it hurt to try and look around. He found his dad sitting next to his bed, and shut his eyes in relief as his dad put something wet and cool on his forehead.
He was thirsty, and licked his lips before trying to speak. "Thirsty."
"Here. Open your mouth."
Something hard teased at his lips and he obeyed. He felt a straw against his tongue and sucked. Cool, wet water filled his mouth and he swallowed, managing a second pull before it was taken away. He tried to complain, but the words came out as a grunt.
"Sorry. Doc says not too much at once."
"Sick?"
"Yeah. You and John and Teal'c, although T's doing a little better now that Junior's starting to heal."
"Where?" He forced his eyes open and turned his head. Just a few feet away was John, lying in a bed, his mom sitting next to him just like his dad was with him. He moved his head on the pillow again, and just before he closed his eyes, saw Cameron standing ramrod straight between the foot of their beds, watching him.
Exhausted, Daniel couldn't even begin to wonder what had happened to him.
"He'll be fine – they'll be fine." Daniel almost recognized the voice. He waited for his dad to answer, and nearly dozed off when the man spoke again. "They're strong boys."
"He's been through so much already. They don't deserve any of this." Daniel thought his dad's voice sounded strained, or maybe that was because he was starting to hear a high-pitched whine inside his head.
"I don't mean for this to sound clichéd, but they're going to go through a hell of a lot worse in a few more years. They'll survive this."
"You can't know that—"
"Of course I do. I've met both DJ and John as adults. This is hard now, to see them so sick, but they'll get better."
"No. There's no guarantee that—"
"They're alive in the future. Fighting the machines," the man said, speaking quickly. His voice faded for a moment, then came back. "—the suffering they've gone through."
"No, you don't understand. By coming into the past, you and that tin girl over there have probably already changed your future. Our future. I may not understand time travel the way Carter does but I do know this – you change one itsy bitty innocuous thing, and it comes back twenty years later to bite you in the ass. There's no way of knowing— the boys are going to— or not."
Words swirled into a jumble of sounds, and although he tried, Daniel lost the battle and fell into a fever-sleep.
________________________________________
"You know," Reese said, "the kid always believed you hadn't died during Judgment Day. He never said why, but now I understand why."
"I'm going to be offworld," Jack said in a subdued voice. He still couldn't picture living the rest of his life on another planet, most likely trying his damnedest to get back to Earth and most likely never being able to get the Stargate to connect. Even worse was knowing Daniel would have lived and spent the rest of his days alone. Then he glanced at Reese and realized that he looked just as concerned for Daniel as he did for John. Maybe Daniel wouldn't have been quite as alone as Jack had first thought. At least the kids would have had each other. "I know you mentioned they met after Judgment Day. Did they know one another before?"
"I don't know. While John always spoke of his mom and Daniel of you, they never—"
"They didn't." The robot had approached while Jack and Reese were talking. "They met for the first time in California, after Judgment Day." She brushed her fingers against Daniel's neck. "His temperature is rising."
The way the robot kept alternating between John and Daniel, giving updates, was grating on Jack's nerves, and obviously on Fraiser's. Still, alerted to the change, Fraiser and her nurses were all over Daniel. A cooling blanket was brought in and Jack watched helplessly while Daniel squirmed uncomfortably.
"John's temperature is also rising."
"Get another cooling blanket," Fraiser ordered.
"What is it? What does it do?" Sarah was leaning over Daniel, examining the piece of equipment. She put her hand on the blanket. "Oh, it's cold. Isn't that uncomfortable?"
"Yes, it is. But the antipyretics aren't doing a thing to bring their temperatures down and this spike in temperature could cause brain damage if we don't do something about it."
"Why don't you give them a bath? That's what I was taught—"
"This is easier." Fraiser pushed past John's mother. "Excuse me." She hurried to John's side and helped the nurse position the cooling blanket.
"Colonel O'Neill."
For a moment Jack thought Hammond was calling him from the observation room. A glance upwards showed that it, however, was dark and empty. He realized belatedly that Hammond was standing at the room's entrance. Relieved to get away from the Baum woman's inquisitiveness, he walked over to Hammond, who was waiting for him along with Carter.
"Major Carter's been examining the test samples she and SG-7 brought back."
"I found an abundance of the virus in a water supply by the old mine they trapped the terminator in. That's probably where they got infected. All other samples have come up clean." Carter glanced worriedly past Jack, her eyes jumping back and forth between Jack and Daniel.
"So it's not contagious?"
She shook her head. "No."
"That's a relief," Fraiser uttered as she walked up behind Jack and pulled off her mask. She raised her voice just enough that everyone in the room could hear. "Your blood samples have come back clean so you're all free to go get some rest."
"I don't think that—"
"Colonel." Fraiser spoke more softly, making her words for Jack only. "Don't force me to make it an order. You've been here for hours, you're all exhausted. There's nothing any of you can do here for any of them. You know the drill. Come back in a few hours—"
"I hate this." He held back the rest of his rant when his mother put a hand on his shoulder. He was admittedly tired, and he knew from experience that sleep would not be something easily attained tonight.
"Thank you, Doctor, but I'd just as soon stay here." Sarah was at her son's side, arms crossed, staring down at the unconscious boy.
"I'm afraid I'm going to insist." Fraiser's voice was adamant.
"What difference does it make if I stay here or not? He's my son. He needs me."
"He'll need you when he starts getting better. And if you're flat on your back from exhaustion, you're not going to do him, or you, any good. Plus—"
"Do you know who you're treating? Whose life you hold in your hands?" Sarah spat.
"Yes. A very sick boy."
"That sick boy is going to save the world one day."
"He's not going to save anything if you don't let me do my job."
"What is it with you? You've been impatient and rude from the moment we got here."
"Maybe, Mrs. Baum, if you let me do my job without trying to second guess my orders, I'd be able to treat your son more efficiently. I don't need to remind you how serious his condition is. I think a few hours away from this room might do us both some good." Fraiser had been staring at the woman while she spoke. She glanced aside, now, at Jack and Carter. "And since you mentioned it, let me introduce you to SG-1. They've saved the world a few times already." With a short nod at Hammond, Fraiser walked out of the Isolation Room.
Jack turned to his mom, speaking in an undertone. "It's a miracle the kid doesn't have delusions of grandeur with the ideas of his mother."
"Jonathan, be nice. She's worried."
Wincing at the smack on the arm delivered by his mom, Jack put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I know. We're all in the same boat." He kissed her forehead. "Go say goodnight to Daniel, and I'll walk you to your room."
"Sarah's right." Derek Reese, who had been leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching the interactions, pushed off the wall and approached Jack and Hammond as Rose went to Daniel. "John will be the one to unite the survivors. Without him, there's very little hope for survival."
"We've got that turkey computer software that's supposed to destroy the world and McKay's looking for that guy who stole the computer and tried to sell it to us. I think we've got a pretty good chance of survival right now."
"Sarah thought she'd stopped it once by destroying the organization that would create Skynet—"
"Cyberdyne," Carter said.
Neither agreeing or disagreeing, Reese grunted. "Take nothing for granted." He walked back inside, went to Sarah and spoke to her a moment.
Finally the woman nodded and motioned to Cameron. "How about she stays here."
"How about she stand over there and keep out of my way?" Fraiser countered.
"I can do that," Cameron agreed.
"Well?" Fraiser looked up at the robot.
"Oh." Cameron turned around, walked to the wall, and leaned against it.
"Thank you." Turning to Sarah and Reese, Fraiser raised an eyebrow.
Jack's mom left Daniel's side and put a hand on Sarah's arm. "We'll be back in a few hours." With a gentle tug, his mom led the woman out of the room.
________________________________________
The Jaffa was right on his tail. Daniel ran on, breathless, the extreme heat of the burning buildings on either side of him searing his lungs with each breath. His legs were shaking as he slowed to jump over a pool of slag, the heat of the molten metal sending an almost unbearable flash of warmth for the second he was above it.
He looked back and saw that the Jaffa was closing. He pushed himself harder, trying to run around the debris of the ruined city. A half-singed street sign nearly tripped him. He recovered, dodged around the remains of a city bus, crushed under tons of rubble, and ran.
The active Stargate was a beacon directly in front of him. The way was clear. All he had to do was sprint for it, and he'd be home. Safe. Sound.
Daniel's head was pounding, his joints aching, his muscles burning, causing him to slow. He could hear the Jaffa behind him, the footsteps changing, less thuds and more clangs. He felt a presence behind him, saw the Stargate just a few feet before him, tried to put on a burst of speed, and came to a screeching halt when a vice grabbed his shoulder, and tugged.
He went flying backwards, tumbling head over heels, coming to a sprawling skid with his face inches from a charred skull. He turned on his back, expecting the Jaffa. Oh, he was there, all right. Burned horribly from the searing heat, parts of his clothes and skin had melted away, exposing a gleaming metal skeleton underneath.
Scrambling backwards, Daniel stared in horror as the Jaffa leaned over him. It had something in its hand, and it slowly brought it up to Daniel's face.
"Eat it." The voice was hollow, metallic.
Daniel glanced at the large brownie it held in its hand. It shoved it against Daniel's mouth. "You wanted to go to the party. You wanted to be the center of attraction. You lied to your father. You disobeyed him. You deserve your reward."
"No." Choking on the dry pastry, Daniel tried to push it away. "I didn't know. I didn't know. I didn't mean to eat it. Daddy! I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He was crying now as his mouth filled with more brownie.
"It's all right, Daniel. I'm here. You're safe. It's all right."
The Jaffa disappeared at the sound of his father's voice.
"Daddy?" Daniel tried to open his eyes. The burning city was too bright; he could only make out shadows.
"Right here. Go back to sleep."
He felt the touch of fingers on his forehead and he sighed. The air smelled strange, plastic-like, but at least he could breathe now.
________________________________________
"Good trick." Janet made sure the strings of the oxygen mask weren't pressing anywhere on Daniel's skin, and looked up at the robot that had remained behind.
"Emulating human voices is not difficult."
"Maybe not for you." Janet made a notation on Daniel's chart, marking the time that Daniel's breathing became labored. "He's breathing better. Thank you for helping calm him down."
"He was dreaming."
"Delirium, more like. From the fever. The sedative I just gave him should help him sleep better." The robot was blocking her way. "Excuse me."
It didn't move. "Should we not inform his father that Daniel's sedated?"
"Why would I do that?"
"You told Jack O'Neill and Sarah Connor that you'd inform them of any changes."
"There's nothing they can do."
"They can be here to help calm them down when they're delirious."
Janet was thankful that Colonel O'Neill hadn't been here when Daniel had started gasping for breath. Or Sarah Baum when her son John had experienced the same thing just an hour before. At least John's crisis hadn't come with a panic-stricken nightmare.
"Doctor Fraiser."
Janet turned around in surprise, relief spreading through her when she saw Teal'c was not only awake, but raised halfway up, leaning on one elbow.
This time the robot moved, letting her pass. She hurried to Teal'c, giving him a quick examination. "I'm glad to see you're back with us."
"DanielJackson. The Connor child. They are ill?"
"You've all been infected with a virus from the planet. Your symbiote was injured, it took a while before it was able to heal you but," she grinned, "heal you it did."
Teal'c grunted as he sat up. "Indeed."
"How do you feel?" she asked as she removed his IV.
"I am recovered."
"Good." She smiled up at Teal'c. "I'd suggest you take it easy for a day or two." Her smile turned into a grin as Teal'c gave her a knowing bow of his head.
"That will not be necessary. I am quite well."
"Humor me, okay?" she said with a smile. She was glad to see him up but despite the fact that he looked okay and that his symbiote had done a damned fine job, it was probably still weak and thus, so was Teal'c.
"Very well." He stood, moving as easily as if he hadn't been lying in an infirmary bed. He stood by Daniel's bed and placed a hand on his arm. "Where are O'Neill and SarahBaum?"
"I sent them to get some rest."
"Would you permit me to sit with DanielJackson until O'Neill returns?"
"You've been sick. You need to go and eat something, and then kelno'reem."
"Delaying by a few hours would not harm me."
Teal'c—"
"A compromise. I shall obtain sustenance, and then return to sit with the boys."
Janet nodded reluctantly. Sitting wouldn't do Teal'c any harm and there was always the possibility that on some level, Daniel would be aware of the company.
"Okay," she finally conceded with a nod.
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Jack's worry had kept him from sleeping. No news there, he truly hadn't expected to. But he understood where Fraiser was coming from and while he had been more than willing to sit by Daniel's side throughout the night, his mother would never have left his side either while he'd been there.
So at zero four hundred hours, showered and dressed, Jack opened the door and walked down the corridor. He stopped in front of the Connor's assigned quarters and addressed their guards. "Any movement from inside?"
"The woman wanted to be escorted to the infirmary, sir."
"How long ago?"
"Thirty minutes."
Jack took a chance and gave a gentle knock on the door. If Sarah were still up, she'd answer. If she'd managed to get some sleep— The door opened suddenly and Sarah Connor, dressed in her wrinkled clothes and wide awake, looked at him expectantly.
"I'm making a side trip to the commissary for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat before heading off to the infirmary. Wanna come along?"
"How about we ditch the food and go straight to the boys."
"Ah." Jack held up a finger. "It's the way it's done. Can't go crawling back into the doctor's den a few hours early after being ordered out without a peace offering."
Sarah smiled that of the truly exhausted. "Oh, I get it." She shut the door behind her.
"If our other guests ask to go to the infirmary, escort them there," Jack ordered the guards before escorting Sarah to the elevator.
________________________________________
Jack was surprised and pleased to see Teal'c sitting with Daniel. Seeing Daniel with an oxygen mask, however, did not please him at all.
"Hey, Doc." Jack put the cup of coffee and chocolate chip muffin next to the table she was using as her desk.
Fraiser glanced at the goodies and gave him a tired smile. "Thank you." She reached for the coffee and took a cautious sip, then tore off a chunk of muffin and took a bite. "Mmm, just what the doctor ordered."
"How are they doing?"
She swallowed before answering. "Their oxygen sats began to decrease, hence the masks. Their fevers are still very high but haven't spiked in the past four hours."
"So...?" Jack asked in trepidation.
"They're holding their own."
"Mom?"
Both Jack and Fraiser turned at the sound of John's hoarse, muffled voice.
"Right here, sweetie." Sarah guided John's hand away from the oxygen mask.
Taking his cue, Jack went to his son's bed, Fraiser following behind, coffee in hand. "The robot has the ability to mimic voices."
"Really?"
"Daniel was restless. She spoke to him using your voice. It was... unsettling."
"Did Daniel—"
"No, no. He thought it was you. He calmed down right away."
"You should have called me." Anger surged over a robot taking his place.
"There wasn't any need. He went right back to sleep."
"O'Neill."
"Teal'c. You're looking better."
"My symbiote has healed me." Standing, Teal'c inclined his head. "If you will excuse me, Doctor Fraiser agreed to allow me to sit with DanielJackson until your return. I will go to my quarters now to rest."
"Thank you. Glad to see you up and about."
Teal'c inclined his head again and left.
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"Colonel O'Neill."
Lost in his thoughts, Jack turned his head towards the voice calling him. Rodney McKay stood in the doorway, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. When he saw Jack looking his way, he raised a finger, making sure he had his attention. "Can I see you for a moment?"
"I'll be right back," he whispered to Daniel, putting down the hand he'd been holding.
He got up, trying to get some feeling back into his body, which was stiff and sore from sitting so long. "What is it?"
"I've found a lead to the Turk." He took a step backwards, away from Jack.
"And why are you telling me this?"
McKay stared at Jack as if he'd suddenly grown horns. "Because General Hammond isn't on base..."
"I'm not on duty—"
"I know," Rodney said, cutting him off. "Pearson's here."
"Well, you should go talk to him." Jack was anxious to get back to Daniel, talking to Rodney was not on his list of priorities at the moment.
"I did."
Jack sighed. He knew Pearson, nice guy but he had a problem thinking outside the box. "Ah, he blew you off, didn't he?"
Rodney took a deep breath, as if the words he was going to utter were downright painful. "You and I might not always see eye to eye, Colonel, but at least you listen."
"Fine. What did you find?"
"I pulled in a few favors." The man was talking a mile a minute. Despite it being obvious he'd pulled an all-nighter, it was just as obvious he'd kept himself fueled on caffeine. "And I managed to track down someone trying to sell a computer system with all the capabilities of the Turk on the black market."
"Track down? Like, an address?"
"It took a while but yes, I've got an address. And guess what?"
Before Jack could answer, McKay continued.
"It's right here in town."
"You said, like the Turk. How close?"
"Without seeing its programming, it's impossible to tell. But you tell me, how many computers are there around that meet all the requirements? Especially here in town?"
"Sarkissian?"
"No, unless he's using another alias. This one's definitely a black market salesman."
"I won't ask how you're so familiar with the black market." Jack felt a touch of guilt-ridden pleasure as McKay's face paled.
"Well. You know how long things take around here." McKay's gaze started bouncing around the room as he stumbled over his words. "There are things, you know, that I need to buy sometimes, that aren't readily available. I can't always wait so I," he said, shrugging, "take a shortcut or two."
He let the admission go. McKay had saved their lives in more ways than one with his technological know-how and Jack was willing to bet that Carter probably had the same number of contacts in the black market. He ran a hand through his hair. "Let me get in touch with Hammond. If he gives the okay, we'll send a couple of teams in to get that computer."
"I'd like to be on the team, Colonel. I know, I know, I'm not exactly a soldier but someone has to make sure you've got the right computer once you storm the place."
Jack waved a hand towards McKay, taking even more perverse pleasure watching him take a step back. "Sure. I'll recommend you be on the team. You go find Carter and Mitchell, send them down to me." Leaning against the wall, he watched McKay hurry down the hall as if running towards a fight full of flying bullets was a hell of a lot safer than entering a room full of alien viruses.
________________________________________
Sarah put down the wet cloth she'd been using to wipe John's face with and went to stand next to Daniel's father.
Colonel Jack O'Neill.
An authority figure she never expected to be working side by side with. She mentally adjusted her outlook, reminding herself that not only did this man actually believe her and the looming demise of life as they knew it, he also had a stake in their future.
His son.
She leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, catching a glimpse of the person who'd been talking with the Colonel just as he turned a corner.
"Bad news?"
"Actually, good news, for a change." Colonel O'Neill turned to look at her. "McKay's found a lead to your computer. I'll get a few teams assembled to go after it, bring it back."
"Sarkissian?"
"Actually, McKay says no. It's odd, it's like that man's fallen off the face of the earth."
"But the Turk hasn't."
"You're thinking someone got to Sarkissian and took it from him?"
Sarah shrugged. "He aborted the plan to sell the Turk to the military. What if he was prevented from selling it to you?"
"You think he's dead?"
"Better him than me." Sarah pushed back a pang of regret about the teenage daughter that John had shown an interest in. "Would you consider putting the machine on your team?"
"Cameron?" The colonel looked surprised. "Why? You don't trust us?"
Sarah shrugged again, shoving her hands in her jeans pockets. "It's not that I don't have faith in your people. But you have to admit that that damn computer seems to have a charmed life. Besides, she's pretty handy to have at times." She allowed a small smile to slip past her lips as she glanced over at the tin miss, whose attention was on John.
"You don't trust her, do you?"
"John trusts her," Sarah said after weighing several answers. "I guess for now, that's good enough for me."
"Mom."
John's muffled voice brought an end to the conversation. She hurried back to the bed, where Cameron was standing.
"John's awake."
"I can see that." Sarah leaned over the bed, putting a hand to John's hot cheek. His eyes, barely open, followed her.
"My head hurts."
"I know." Sarah glanced up and waved to one of the nurses, who hurried over. "He says his head hurts."
Nodding, the nurse measured out a dose of painkiller and injected it into John's IV. Within seconds, John's eyelids fluttered and the tenseness of his body eased.
"Thank you." As much as she hated seeing her son in a drugged sleep, it beat the pain he was in. The nurse checked John's vitals, then moved on to Daniel. The boys didn't rouse often but when they did, they were in awful pain. Sarah sighed as she sat down again and picked up the damp cloth.
She watched from her vantage point as the colonel briefed the two team leaders, allowed them to pick their men then called General Hammond for his permission for the strike. She hadn't really thought he'd take her up on her offer but to Sarah's surprise, he simply pointed at Cameron and said, "You. Go with them."
Of course the tin miss didn't move from her position.
"They've got a lead on the Turk. Go with them," Sarah ordered coldly. She had expected resistance from Cameron. To her surprise, the robot stood and walked out, following the blond Major. She couldn't help but wonder how many missions the thing had programmed into it – protecting John was certainly her main mission but stopping Skynet was another.
________________________________________
tbc
