Chapter Twenty-one
"Teal'c, in case I don't ever get the chance to say this...If you hadn't come back for me, I would have been stuck in that place forever. So...thank you."
Jack sat on the padded floor of medical containment room watching Daniel pace and talk to no one. They had brought him back to the SGC, but were forced to cage him the same way Area 51 had to keep him from hurting himself.
It was difficult to watch, but Jack had stayed with Daniel all night. Carter and Teal'c were off world with SG-8 to the address that Rea'beka had jumped to. Keeping Daniel company, even if he didn't notice, was the only thing Jack could think to do.
"Yes!" Daniel said in sudden excitement. "Yes, it, it's me it's Daniel. I'm right here, just don't walk...through me." Daniel paused his pacing and sighed. "It's very disconcerting."
Jack was quickly becoming skilled at figuring out where Daniel thought he was. From what he'd been saying and doing he guessed that at the moment Daniel was stuck 'out of phase', trying to get Teal'c's attention. In between one world and another Daniel had roamed the SGC as a specter for days before they figured it out.
"You sensed I was in the room, you just can't see or hear me." Daniel continued in a defeated tone. "Which is a little frustrating as you may imagine."
"It's extremely frustrating." Jack agreed.
There was a gentle knocking at the door that Jack ignored. He knew who ever it was would enter anyway. The door opened and Dr. Brightman peeked inside.
"General?" Dr. Brightman asked softly.
"Yeah?"
"Can we talk in your office?"
"Yeah."
Jack watched Daniel for a few more moments before getting up. Daniel paced about as if frustrated, which was understandable. Despite the fact that he clearly didn't know where he was he still seemed to know the limitations of his new prison. He moved violently at times, but so far he'd yet to run into the walls.
Standing up Jack purposefully moved directly into Daniel's path. Without pause Daniel walked around him and continued to pace. He looked as though he was trying to get somewhere, and he wasn't going to let Jack stand in the way.
"How does he do that?" Jack asked.
"It's hard to say. However, sleepwalkers don't bump into things either. Part of him must be aware that you're there."
Jack thought about that for a moment, but didn't find any comfort in it. Dr. Brightman left the room and he followed. As they made their way to Jack's office they ran into Sam coming the other way. She had just returned, she hadn't even changed into her base uniform yet.
"Any luck?" Jack asked.
"No, Sir." Sam admitted.
"Anything at all?"
"Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, but Rebecca wasn't stupid."
"You're right, you didn't have to tell me that."
"The point is, Sir, that she knew our computers would know where she was going. So she jumped to an uninhabited planet and from there..."
"She could have gone anywhere." Jack finished.
"Exactly. Right now I think the best chance we have of finding her is to try and translate that sentence you wrote."
"That's really Daniel's thing." Jack forced a smile.
"I thought I'd try using his notes as a reference."
"Good idea." Jack replied halfheartedly. "Speaking of Daniel, the doc here is about to give her 'good news, bad news' shtick, you're welcome to join us."
Carter was actually anxious to get to work on the translation, however she could see that Jack really didn't want to listen to Dr. Brightman alone. Sam nodded and Jack managed a genuine smile.
The three of them stepped into Jack's office. He wandered over to his desk and sat down at it. He looked briefly at the large amount of paper that had started to accumulate on it. He pushed it all to one side and actively ignored it.
Sam and Dr. Brightman took seats on the opposite side of the desk. The doctor had a large file with her that she placed on Jack's desk. He picked it up, glanced at its contents and put it back down.
"These numbers don't mean anything to me." Jack said bluntly. "Just tell me what it says using as many small words as possible."
"Well, on the physical side of things Dr. Jackson's lost about 90 of what little body fat he had, along with about 25 muscle mass. Which in turn has lead to both liver and kidney distress. His blood work is, in all honesty...a mess."
"A mess?" Jack repeated. "Is that a technical term?"
"You asked for small words, Sir." Carter pointed out.
"True. I'm sorry, continue."
"A highly elevated white cell count coupled with prolonged dehydration and an iron deficiency is making it difficult to stabilize his homeostatic balance. All in all I'd say kidney failure is the greatest danger, probably within the next few days."
"He can have one of mine." Jack offered.
"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way."
"Perhaps we should have started with the good news." Jack sighed. He rubbed at his temples, trying to fight off a migraine.
"Um...that was the good news, Sir." Dr. Brightman admitted.
"Of course it was." Jack grumbled.
"He could easily recover physically, we have the medicine and the technology for that. What we don't have is a way to fix this mental looping he's trapped in."
"If he can be fixed physically why does everyone keep telling me he's dying."
"The mental strain is the cause of his physical decline and we can only battle against it for so long. It's like trying to fill a sieve with water, if you don't do something about the holes you're not going to get anywhere. If his health hadn't been allowed to slip this far we'd have less of a problem on our hands time wise."
Sam watched Jack struggle with a flash of anger. So far no action had been taken against Denahe or Area 51. She knew Jack wasn't pursing it personally at the moment because saving Daniel's life was more important than seeking revenge. However she feared what Jack might do if Daniel didn't pull through. As it was she was still questioning her own loyalties to the Air Force, something she'd never done before.
"Any thoughts on what can be done?" Jack asked wearily.
"It's risky, but my first thought is to try convulsive therapy."
"Con-what now?" Jack asked.
"Electro-shock therapy." Sam clarified.
"No." Jack said quickly. "No way."
"Gen..." Dr. Brightman started.
"Forget it!" Jack interrupted. "Daniel hates electricity, you rub your feet across a carpet and touch him, he jumps ten feet."
"Convulsive therapy is not the barbaric practice that it used to be." Dr. Brightman replied calmly. "He'd be fully sedated, and there is no pain. It is a trusted treatment, perhaps not for this particular problem, however, I'm hoping that a controlled seizure might 'reset' his consciousness."
"'Hoping' and 'might' are two words I don't like hearing you say doctor."
"There are no guarantees with this sort of case. I'm sorry."
"What are the possible consequences?" Sam asked.
"It could simply do nothing, or there is a chance that it could make things worse."
"Worse how?" Jack grumbled.
"His body has been taxed physically to the extreme...a seizure, even a controlled one, could kill him."
For a moment Jack had an expression similar to Daniel's, out of focus, lost in thought. He shook his head. Inducing Daniel into a seizure didn't sound like medicine to him. Dr. Brightman waited patiently for a response, but it didn't seem like she was going to get one.
"Are there any other options?" Sam broke the silence.
"There are two. Neither of which I recommend as a first course of action."
"We might as well hear them." Jack sighed.
"The first of course is to do nothing, wait it out, and hope that Dr. Jackson recovers his senses on his own before his body fails. I give that a less than one percent chance of working in time."
"And the second?"
"Surgery." Dr. Brightman admitted. "Physically sever the connection between the frontal lobes and the temporal memory cortex. At best he'd have no past memory, but at least he'd be able to interact with his environment again."
"At worst?"
"He might not be able to remember anything ever again."
"What do you mean by that?"
"In addition to losing past memories if everything wasn't done perfectly he might not be able to store new ones. Again, he could interact with his environment, but if you left the room for five minutes and came back, he wouldn't remember you."
"Suddenly electrocuting him doesn't sound like such a bad option." Jack sighed.
"Since Dr. Jackson has no family, and is incapable of making the decision himself, it's your call, Sir." Dr. Brightman said seriously. "My strongest recommendation is to try convulsive therapy."
"Do it."