M is for Migraine
He'd been getting migraines since he was about twelve and he thought he knew all his triggers and warning signs quite well by this point. By always drinking coffee, avoiding certain foods, and staying on top of them when they did start, Daniel had so far avoided being sidelined by a migraine before or during a mission. The aura was always the biggest tip off. Lights would be brighter, sounds louder, smells stronger, and tastes more foul than normal. Then, usually about half an hour before anything else started, he'd see a few shiny floaters pass through his range of vision like bits of silver tinsel escaping from a Christmas tree. If he took medication right at that point, he'd get away with an awful, pounding headache, but be able to carry on. If he missed the mark, he'd be faced with absolutely excruciating pain, sending him to curl up in the nearest, darkest, quietest location to wait out his misery alone.
They'd been grounded earth-side about two days ago for a rigorous few days of training. The first two days had been long hours of lectures mixed with exhausting exercises in hand to hand, marksmanship, and tests of physical strength. Every muscle and joint in his body was sore and, given the mountain of translations he knew were backing up on his desk, the whole experience so far had been a complete and utter waste of his time. The first two days of training were designed as a preparation for the final day's simulation of an alien incursion in which SG1 was to face off with a group of twenty marines Daniel swore had to be part giant given their sheer size and amount of muscle. To say he was not looking forward to the simulation would have been a huge understatement. Wednesday morning found him shuffling into the SGC, sore and grouchy.
Moping through the pre-simulation breakfast briefing, he'd missed the first warning signs. He'd put the undrinkable soap taste of the coffee, over-bright flair of the PowerPoint presentation, heinous BO of the marine sitting next to him, and the grating drone of the speaker up to how horrendous the three days of training had been rather than an impending migraine. It wasn't until after they'd been handed their weapons with intars set to maximum and placed in their spaces for the beginning of the simulation that he realized what was going on.
He was crouching next to Jack in the corridor, trying to focus on his face as the klaxons blared and team after team sprinted past to face the team of "alien" marines when Jack's face and everything else he could see was suddenly covered in the most brilliant silver fireworks.
"Damn it, Daniel, are you even listening?" He blinked forcefully. It took a second or two for them to fizzle out into oblivion and his vision to return. He found the insane amount of floaters a bit jarring. If a usual migraine resulted in a handful, what sort of behemoth produced that many?
"We're going to get creamed out there in a moment if you don't pull yourself together." Jack didn't look too happy and, given Sam and Teal'c's expressions, Daniel was torn between bailing and feeling like he was letting his team down. He fingered the pockets of his pants with the sinking realization that part of this simulation was a test of a new, lighter uniform for off-world travel and that both his meds and his backup meds were in his locker a dozen stories up.
Jack had to admit that Daniel looked like crap. He knew the younger man had been overworking himself lately given the amount of mornings he had come in to find Daniel's name still on the signed in list instead of the signed out list at the check in. He had hoped that a few days off from archeologist/translator duty would do the man good, even if it meant sitting around in boring lectures and sweating up a storm refreshing physical skills. Now, looking at the guy, he doubted his earlier assumption. Daniel was deathly pale and the bags under his eyes highlighted their neon blue in a way that made his face skull-like and almost painful to look at. He'd kept an eye on him during the briefing. Now, as he had then, he looked entirely unfocused and possibly unwell. He paused in repeating the spiel they'd learned that morning and the plan for their response. Carter and Teal'c were clearly already aware and ready to go. Daniel, on the other hand, looked about ready to fall over.
"Damn it, Daniel, are you even listening? We're going to get creamed out there in a moment if you don't pull yourself together." Jack slightly regretted his harshness in calling Daniel out given that he somehow grew more pale and blinked as if seeing a ghost, rubbing his hands on the pockets of his pants. He was weighing the pros and cons about sending Daniel to the infirmary and testing through a man short or pushing him on and testing through without a fully functioning fourth member when the klaxons roared again and their time was up.
"Teal'c, take point. Carter, cover our six. Daniel, are you in this?" Daniel squinted and nodded, standing with the full support of the wall. Jack sighed and shook his head.
"You're with me, then. Let's go."
Daniel was thankful that the first portion of the simulation was in a section of the SGC where the power had been cut. After the florescent brightness of the corridor and the wailing of the klaxons, the eerie green glow of the silent corridor beyond the blast door was welcome. He followed Teal'c quietly down the hallway, focusing on staying upright and ignoring the sweeping dizziness and stray bits of silver tinsel gliding through his field of vision every so often. The intar-P90 felt impossibly heavy in his hands, but he tried to hold it steady. It was too late to back down now.
As they rounded the corner, a stray floater on his left drew his attention just before a marine popped out from behind a pillar. Daniel jumped, pulling the trigger and sending the intar directly at the marine who fell back was a loud thunk. The first tendrils of pain curled themselves around his left temple.
"Nice one, Daniel." He felt Jack's hand pat his shoulder with a force that threatened to knock him over and cause him to drop his weapon. He swayed, stumbled, and nearly fell, Jack's hand suddenly turning from a pat into a hold and drag, pushing him up against the wall and then pulling him back around the corner into a more defensible position. The pain building in his left temple chose that moment to explode like the earlier fireworks and he sank to the floor, curled up in a ball with his head in his hands, left hand pressing against the pressure point in the left orbital of his skull.
"Alright, what the hell is going on?" Jack had seen Daniel in all manner of ill, injured, and indisposed states. The sudden near-collapse and the fact that he was now holding his face as if his eye was popping out was unnerving.
"Daniel?" Daniel swallowed against a wave of nausea before attempting to reply. There was no mistaking it. This one was going to be a really bad one.
"Migraine. Really bad. Really sudden. Sorry." Jack swore under his breath. He knew how Daniel's migraines went. One long, bad weekend at his cabin had provided an in-depth picture. Jack's urge to chew Daniel out for not stepping out of the simulation when he undoubtedly knew what was happening and was now charging up the clock on their time was overrun by how miserable he looked.
"Sir, the infirmary is two floors down. Daniel, can you manage to get there yourself?" Jack had to hand it to Carter for the quick problem solving, but Daniel wasn't answering and his breathing was too fast for Jack's liking.
"Can you stand?" Daniel nodded, releasing the grip on his face and stumbling up, swaying slightly and gripping the wall.
"Can you make it to the infirmary on your own?" Daniel nodded and sighed. Carter squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.
"Alright, that's your new mission, then. Carter, Teal'c, we head for the gate room as planned. Let's go." Jack bit back the twinge of guilt as he watched Daniel shuffle over to the escape hatch, pop it open, and crawl inside.
If the emergency-light green of the corridor had been dark, the inside of the escape hatch was pitch black. If he hadn't had to hold onto the ladder, the total lack of light, sound, or smell in the escape hatch would have been heavenly, but, as he grasped the tiny metal rungs with shaking hands and tried not to fall or puke, he found himself feeling lost and utterly disoriented. He knew he had to go down to get to the infirmary, but how many rungs there were to a floor and how many he had to go to get to the infirmary were snippets of information completely inaccessible to his pounding head.
They made it through the second pop-up unscathed, taking down five marines waiting to ambush them for a total of six out of twenty. There were still multiple floors of dark winding corridors to go before the gate room. Jack found himself sending guilty looks at each escape hatch they passed wondering if Daniel had found his way to the infirmary or was lying somewhere in need of help.
He got about sixty rungs down before he had to stop. The pain in his head was too fierce to keep counting and the ice pick stabbing itself into his left eye was inspiring a breathless, dizzy nausea that made all movement intolerable. As silently as he could, he felt behind him for an exit door, fingers finding the lip of one a few more rungs beneath him. Slowly and quietly, he made his way out, back into the green darkness, and curled up on the floor. He couldn't remember ever feeling this awful.
Lying on the cool concrete, he felt the footsteps before he heard them. He fingered his P90 and waited for the crew to come into range. Twelve of the marines appeared around the corner, completely oblivious to his position.
"This is SG1's round, right?" The biggest of the crew was whispering with the one in the front.
"Yeah. Those assholes always win these things. Let's mix things up a bit and give them a run for their money." Daniel could see the white of the marine's teeth grinning in the green glow. Silently, he uncurled himself into a crouch.
"Yeah! We're supposed to split up and take the gate room, but I bet if we stay together, we'll take them out. Four against twelve sounds fair." Daniel swallowed rising bile and wished he'd had someone else join him in the escape hatch. The marines were getting closer. He put his finger on the trigger.
Jack could hear the marines ahead of them and signaled to Teal'c and Carter. Peering around the corner, it looked like the final twelve of them shuffling together. A few hand signals later, Teal'c was on the other side of the hallway and he and Carter were ready for action.
The chaos that ensued was nothing that he had anticipated. Intars were flying all around and everyone was yelling. Jack managed to work his way around the corner to a new position, taking out two of them. Teal'c joined him, bringing down another three. Carter snipped two from her first position before entering into hand to hand. He found himself in a hand to hand skirmish and was about to shout congratulations to Teal'c for the intars he saw taking down the remaining two marines when he caught a glimpse of Teal'c also throwing punches in the dark. It was only when the blows stopped flying and the last three marines were properly restrained that he saw a familiar shape huddled on the floor by the escape hatch.
"Daniel?" The shape didn't move, but it let out a low moan. Jack secured the zip tie around the marine's wrist, sent a message over his radio to notify Hammond that they'd completed the challenge, and climbed around the simulated carnage to where the moan had originated.
"I thought I told you to get to the infirmary." Even in the security lighting, Daniel looked rough. Jack knelt in front of him avoiding what looked like a puddle of sick.
"You want an escort?" Daniel's grasp on his proffered hand was worrisomely weak, but Jack hauled him to his feet. Carter appeared on his other side, Teal'c at the lead. The walk to the infirmary was slow and Jack was thankful when the bright white glow appeared on the horizon. Daniel, however, grimaced and squinted like a vampire meeting the sunlight.
"Teal'c, run ahead and shut that light off, will you? And let Fraiser know we're coming so she has the good stuff ready." By the time they crossed the threshold to the infirmary, the lights were off and Daniel's usual bed was waiting.
Curling up in a ball on the less than comfortable infirmary bed and waiting for the prick of an IV in his arm, Daniel thought back to the other migraines he'd suffered through in his life. The first few adolescent ones in foster homes and school nurse's offices hadn't been a picnic, nor had the many he'd sweat through in dorms or on digs, but despite the fact that he'd had to put up with a simulation with a behemoth of a migraine, this one hadn't been so bad. At least this time, he concluded, watching Jack fiddle with a fluid bag, Teal'c unscrew a light bulb from an emergency light, and Sam place a basin within arm's reach, this time he wasn't alone.