CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
After a few hours of checking on comrades, finding out when the briefing was, then checking on Daniel who was amazingly back in the infirmary, John O'Neill finally found enough nerve to head for the guest suite where they had been quartered for the past few days.
John paused at the door. Maybe he was making a mistake. He started to turn when the door opened. Sammy Hansen's face peered through the crack.
"Took you long enough," she griped, opening the door wider.
John stepped back. "Sir?"
"He's asleep, but you can take over watch if you want." She made a show of massaging her neck. "I'm going to check on the others and sack out."
Dismayed, staring at the huddled shadow on the bed, John swallowed.
Hansen stepped out of the room. "Either way, Captain, I'm going. I need to be ready for the briefing tomorrow, and I plan on making use of their hospitality. You don't go in, and he'll be by himself."
"I—"
"I can make it an order," Hansen added mildly, noting the flush in John's neck as he shot her a glare.
John stared at the open door, took a deep breath and walked in, the guard closing the door behind him.
The room was bathed in darkness; the lamp by the end table was turned towards the center of the room, away from the bed pushed up against the wall. John could see Dan covered with several blankets facing the wall, sleeping, oblivious to whoever was here. Irrationally, John was glad Dan was asleep. It made it easier to sit and just watch, guard his slumber than hear him speak, hear Dan lie to him one more time about how he was okay to ears more than willing to believe it.
Staggering to the couch, still perpendicular to the bed as he last recalled, John gingerly sat down, taking care to make no sound. He watched Dan for a few minutes before sighing softly and leaned back against the couch.
"Don't do this to him. Don't make him go, knowing you're going to follow. Leave him some hope."
Hope? How the hell was John supposed to give Dan hope? The petty promises, vows of victory, they were empty, bitter tasting every time John said them. But behind the words, he did keep a bit of hope that when they won, he could find Dan a cure. It was the only thing keeping him going. The same concept helped him survive the hate-filled screaming of the miners in Abydos, helped him wash the blood from his hands, and kept back the guilt for being responsible for dishing out more misery to those people. To know his family would be spared, to know they would be safe.
What a crock.
John choked down a strangled laugh. The joke was on him. While he toiled as a slave, worked hard enough to catch Seth's eye as a worthy upper level guard, rising to Overseer, John's family, his only reason for enduring that whole damn year, was being divided up like cattle and scattered across the universe to other mines. And the only one he got back—
Was now leaving him.
He dropped his head into his hands. When was this going to be over? When? When could he finally sleep and not worry about being discovered as a spy, not worry about Dan, not worry about whether they'd get Ra or if he was going to survive another day in the mines before another bitter miner tried to drive a knife into his back?
John felt so old. The war felt too long. And everything he was sure so of- beating Ra, saving Dan, finding his family, had shattered into bloody pieces in his hands, trickling down between his fingers, scratching him with taunting, empty promises as they fell.
"You just going to sit there?"
He started at the soft whisper coming from the bed. John raised his head and saw Dan roll over onto his back with eyes open towards the ceiling.
"Sammy told me the meeting's on tomorrow morning after Daniel and I work on the two tablets." Dan listlessly picked at his blanket. "They're going to talk about how we're planning to attack, who gets to go, and who stays." He paused. Dan went on tightly, turning his face towards John, "And I'm going with them."
John said nothing.
Dan turned his head slightly. "What? No arguments? No protests?" He snorted, turning his head back towards the ceiling.
"I didn't mean to wake you," John croaked. He started to rise. He didn't want to hear Dan ask him to leave. He'd rather go before he heard it again.
"No. Stay. I...It's okay..."
Surprised, John sat down again. Dan didn't say anything else, just lay there breathing in and out with his hands folded over his stomach.
For the longest time, the two men said nothing, hidden within their own darkness, neither sure of what to say, both waiting for the other to start. John sat within the shadowy area of the couch, staring ahead, away from Dan, wondering how he could begin to say anything. Or even tell Dan that he knew when he couldn't even bear to hear it himself.
Jack O'Neill said they both had to be strong. But all John saw was a man who could have been him, basically pinning him down with words and who spoke out loud of a child they'd both lost and who could still stare back at him with grim faced determination.
Strong.
John didn't know if he could be any more.
All he felt was tired.
Dead inside.
Maybe Dan wasn't the only one dying.
John bowed his neck, willing that last thought to get the hell out of his head.
Hearing the quiet rustle of fabric brushing against fabric as John moved, Dan sighed out loud. "So much," Dan laughed sadly. "So much for keeping it a secret."
John closed his eyes.
"I mean...you wouldn't be here if you didn't know what I was trying to do, right? I mean, otherwise, I would still be here, pretending to sleep."
"Regardless, I shouldn't have stayed away," whispered John. "I should have been here."
"All the more reason to keep you away."
"Why?" John blurted. "Why? Why won't you let me help you? Let me do something!"
"Do what?" Sitting up shakily, Dan shook his head. "What? Snap your fingers and declared me cured? Healed? What could you have done? I don't want you to sit here watching me waste away to some raving, slobbering vegetable!"
"Don't say that!"
"I didn't want to give you the choice!" Dan shouted. He winced, a hand going to his chest. He waved John off, sensing more than hearing his brother rising.
"Dan—"
"Let me finish. Then, then go." Dan swallowed. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and heard John's sound of dismay. "We both know what's wrong with me and there's nothing more you can do."
"I—"
Dan raised his hand, pleading. "Let me finish. Please." He waited until he heard John sit down on the couch and took a deep breath, swallowing back the gasp as his chest flared in agony. "I know what's going to happen to me, John. You never told me because back then there was still a chance to help me."
John opened his mouth to say there still was, but Dan's set jaw made him stop and wait.
"But I know. I hear things. No one has ever survived removing the re'klya. No one, John. Telling me, telling yourself that I'll be that one miracle to break the rules won't work. And me stuck with these things. I'll slowly go down the same path as every other victim." Dan lowered his head. "I know you heard about Jonas Hansen."
John started. "How did you—"
"Just because you wouldn't tell me didn't mean others wouldn't. I know what happened to him and what Sammy did in the end."
John turned his head.
"I don't want it to come to that, John."
"Me either," John whispered, finally having to say something.
"No. You don't understand. I don't want it to come to that—you...having to decide to pull the trigger."
John bowed his head. He turned in his seat, away from Dan, from the voice that was now so calm, so accepting.
"I won't do that to you. I can't. I—" Dan choked back a sob. "God, he was right...I am a coward."
John sharply turned his attention back to Dan. His younger brother covered his face with his hands, shuddering.
"I wish everything was purely unselfish, but I don't want you to see me like that, John. Not that way. I don't want the last thing you remember of me to be..." Dan couldn't finish. He leaned towards the wall, shivering. "You told me over and over again how it'd all be okay, and I'd get better, but we both know. We both know that's not going to happen in this lifetime and hearing you say it..." Dan closed his eyes. "Hearing you say it makes me even more scared, John. I'm sorry, but it does."
"I didn't know. God, I didn't know. I really believe you could get better, Dan. I did," John whispered hoarsely.
"And what about now?" Dan asked softly.
John clenched his eyes shut.
"John...when I become too lost to come back..." Dan covered his mouth with a hand. His next words were muffled, but John could hear them cracking at every syllable.
"When I am too lost, Sammy's going—"
John bit his lower lip so hard it bled. "When the time comes, I'll be there. I'll do it for you."
Dan's head shot up. "No! I can't ask you to—"
John went over and sat down on the bed. He forced himself to gulp the hard knot lodged in his throat and made sure his voice was steady. Then, he placed his hands on Dan's shoulders.
"Let me," John said, keeping his voice steady. "Let me be there for you. Let me...If you go too far, I'll make sure you won't suffer any more. Let me do that much for you."
Dan dropped his head, brushing against the inner side of John's forearms. John could feel his whole body shake, but he didn't dare bring his younger brother closer. Not yet. Not if Dan didn't want it.
"I can't ask that of you."
"You're not. I am."
Letting out a soft sob, the sharp exhalation of breath blowing against his long bangs and parting them for a moment, Dan sat there, saying nothing.
Then, he slowly nodded.
John pulled Dan closer, letting Dan's head rest at last on his shoulder, his arms going around tighter. John's chin rested on Dan's hair. John didn't say anything. He couldn't. Somehow thank you didn't feel appropriate for what Dan had just granted him.
A chance to watch him die.
The captain's arms tightened further, possessively around Dan, his chest aching with an agony he hadn't felt since he and Dan had heard the gunshot up in the master bedroom, Sara's screaming in denial as she got there first and found their son. It was a pain, an excruciating pain that grew and grew. And it only promised to get worse when the moment finally arrived like a dark villain lurking in wait behind the curtains of his mind. And for the first time in his life, John was terrified of encountering his old nemesis again.
Dan's shivering increased as if heightened by John's own fear. His voice was muffled, barely audible, but the words vibrated against John's chest.
"I'm scared."
Me, too. John turned his head until his cheek was brushing against Dan's hair, the damned re'klya digging into his shoulder through his flightsuit. John pulled his brother in even tighter.
"It'll be okay, Danny."
A strangled sound responded to the nickname. John closed his eyes.
"We'll get through this," John croaked. "I won't let you down again. I swear."
Dan's arms weakly went up and around John's back. Dan said nothing, soft sounds of distress quivering against John's clothing, but no hot tears dampened the fabric. The two men knew the real tears would come when the moment finally arrived to separate them.
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"It is good to see you again, our Beloved."
Hands swept over him. He felt a wave of disgust, revulsion threatening to choke him as the touches cascaded over him non-stop.
"Jan—"
No, this wasn't her.
"Did you miss us?"
Eyes glowing. God, the pure evil he saw in once familiar eyes.
"Not really."
"Don't touch him!"
His friends were so far away. No one could help him.
"You never should have said no. We would have embraced you as our mate, and you would have held a position among gods."
He never should have weakened when he first met her. Now she haunted him everywhere he went.
"...told us where our Beloved was hidden...we would reward...if he gives us the base."
There was something else.
"He will not tell you..."
Something important.
"...Be ready for me..."
Someone bad was coming. Very bad.
"...Che mar, he comes..."
What was it? What were they saying?
Claws scratched his body as he tried to escape, not letting him leave or come closer to any sort of recollection. Flashes exploded in front of him of a woman with red hair, a woman with glowing eyes, a cell room that felt so cold, the hot agony of the devices slowly being pulled out of him. Hurts. Everything hurts...
Daniel gasped, his legs kicking as he woke. Eyes open, he stiffened when he saw nothing but darkness, and his hands flew up to his face.
No re'klya.
Stupid! Stupid! Of course it's dark. They turned off the infirmary's lights so everyone could sleep, he scolded himself, trying to get his heart to slow down to a reasonable pace.
Slowly, Daniel sat up, grimacing as he realized his t-shirt was twisted around his torso, sweaty from the mind bending dreams. No, make that nightmares. He shakily reached for his glasses on the nearby table, his vision too blurry to try and make out anything beyond the curtain around his bed. His fingers felt the thin wire, fumbled, and he felt his glasses drop to the floor.
Daniel froze as he heard them drop, but there were no sounds of glass shattering. Groaning mentally to himself, he gingerly got off the bed, went down on his knees, and felt around for his eyewear. He wished he'd thought of clicking on the light, but that meant wandering aimlessly with blurry sight, trying to look for a very small switch. So instead, he opted to grope around the floor, palms slapping against the tiles, searching.
There.
With a sigh of relief, he unfolded the wire frames and slipped them on with his eyes closed. Then, with a muttered prayer, Daniel opened his eyes.
His shoulders slumped.
Although he could discern the shapes, everything wasn't as crystal clear as they were before the re'klya. After he'd returned to the infirmary to a scene of chaos as Frasier tried to calm rebels down enough to examine them and Teal'c resorted to looking intimidating to get the rest to just sit, Doctor Warner had his eyes checked. They were now at 200/200.
Not perfect but getting better. It just felt to Daniel it wasn't fast enough.
Sitting on the floor, everything still too dark for his taste, Daniel decided he wasn't going to get any sleep anyway and might as well head for his office where he could turn on the lights and maybe get something done with the tablets.
Clutching the bed edge, Daniel pulled himself up. He snagged the dark blue bathrobe hanging on the back of the chair placed by the bed, shrugged it on, and wrapped the flaps tightly around himself with a quick flip of the ties. Remnants of the dream clung to him, and now everything felt too cold. He slid his feet into the standard slippers they always left by the beds and tentatively took a step, then another, relieved when it looked like his legs were going to cooperate and not embarrass him by dropping him back down onto the floor. Daniel rubbed his eyes under his glasses and stared in dismay at how far away the exit seemed to be.
Either walk and get stuff done or stay here staring at the ceiling, Jackson.
Daniel rounded his shoulders back and carefully made his way to the exit, gaze glued to the double doors. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, the darkness of the room too familiar for his liking. His steps quickened automatically, and he suddenly found himself at the door. Daniel blinked, casting a worried look over his shoulder.
The beds were filled with soldiers, many faces he'd never seen before, rebels who were wounded during their escape, minor injuries. Daniel guiltily realized he hadn't even noticed while he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts about Ra, about going home, to remember people had died to save him.
Daniel swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as his stomach churned. How many were left behind? How many died on that submarine?
Shouting echoed in his memory; the feeling of cold water lapping around his ankles made him twitch. Daniel tugged at the tied ends of his robe a bit more tightly to trap the warmth in. He wondered briefly why it felt too quiet in here, and it occurred to him he was listening for the humming of a submarine's engines.
Shaking his head, Daniel pushed the doors open and walked out of the dark infirmary.
A coffee mug swooped right down in front of him. Daniel yelped, jumping back a step until a hand grabbed him by the elbow before he could fall backwards into the double doors.
"Figured you would try to make a break for it," Jack whispered, his face now in front of Daniel. He let go of Jackson's elbow and grinned crookedly.
"Jack?" Daniel stared in disbelief. "W-what are you doing here?"
Crooking an eyebrow high on his forehead, Jack shrugged, taking a sip out of the mug he'd flashed in front of Daniel before. "Figured you were probably awake." Brown eyes critically scanned Daniel up and down. "You look like shit."
Daniel pursed his lips, pulling the flaps of his robe tighter around him.
"Come on." Jack waved at Daniel and turned, facing the hallway. Jack paused when he realized Daniel wasn't following. He looked over his shoulder impatiently.
"Where are we going?" Daniel asked, frowning.
Jack rolled his eyes, exasperated. "You were sneaking out to go to your office, right? Well, come on. We saved you a cup."
"We?" echoed Daniel, but he followed slowly behind anyway.
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General Hammond came out of his office after an exhausting talk with the authorities on the other end of the red phone. While he agreed with their concerns about the portal,
The idea of sealing the portal, preventing them from going through and the rebels from turning to them for help churned Hammond's stomach. Too many familiar faces to forget so easily. He couldn't.
The telephone conversation ended with a "We'll see" instead.
Undoing his jacket, Hammond eyed the room outside his office and noted the shadow was still standing by the window, observing the Stargate in the embarkation area below. That shadow had stood there since Hammond had returned from checking in the infirmary. For nearly four hours, the form had been statue still, yet the posture told him the shadowy figure was still alert enough to straighten those shoulders.
The general eyed his coffeepot and shook his head. Getting up, he poured himself a cup and after a brief moment of hesitation, poured another one. He carried both outside to the briefing room.
Approaching the shadow until the features of General Maybourne were visible in the light streaming in from the embarkation room, Hammond extended one mug to the rebel leader.
Maybourne looked down at it, staring at it as if he'd never seen one before.
"Figured you'd have a long night ahead of you," the SGC general said quietly, waiting until Maybourne finally wrapped his hand around the cup.
"Thank you." Maybourne lifted it to his nose and took a deep sniff. He gave Hammond a brief smile. "Would you believe it's been three years since I had my last cup?" He lifted his cup up to Hammond in a mock toast and gingerly took a sip. Eyebrow up, Maybourne pulled the mug away. "Is it just me or you guys just have better coffee?"
Hammond grunted as he took a sip himself. The coffee, in his opinion, had been sitting in his pot for too long. "Three years can make anything taste better."
Maybourne nodded absently. "I suppose." He took another sip, smacking his lips. "I think...the last cup I had was probably the best tasting one."
It struck Hammond that Maybourne, the Maybourne in his reality, wouldn't be standing here having idle conversation.
"Was sitting in one of the subs back in Antarctica," Maybourne paused as he took another sip, his eyes still on the Stargate. "We were selected to ready the Beta Stargate found there and wait for the UN meeting to conclude with our visitors from outer space. I was sitting there, watching these...I can't even say soldiers. Kids, more like it. Running around like their butts were on fire." Maybourne shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Back then, I was sort of a stiff board, everything by the book."
"I see." Hammond bit back a smile, hiding the attempt behind his coffee mug as he drank.
Maybourne looked at him sideways. "Yeah. Anyway...I'm sitting there, overhearing Commander Hansen's husband on the radio in the other sub, them not knowing I could hear every word." He smiled, chuckling. Hammond didn't understand and looked at the other general, puzzled. Shaking his head, Maybourne murmured, "You had to be there to understand." Maybourne scratched his chin. "Sitting there, listening to the radio, watching the young pups play soldier, it occurred to me what a monumental moment that was. We were finally contacting aliens, all our research, our top secret goings-on in Area 51 and NID, were paying off. I sat there, feeling very...well...very pleased with myself as I sipped my coffee." Maybourne paused, his eyes darkening.
"And then we heard Cheyenne was attacked, and my men sighted death gliders heading our way. We dove under the ice so fast, my coffee spilled. Permanently stained my desk."
Hammond nodded, face grim.
Maybourne smiled tiredly before he turned around and set the mug deliberately on the table. "No offense, General. But I think I would rather wait for the chance to drink coffee back in my reality."
Lifting his cup in mutual agreement, Hammond nodded. "That would be one hell of a cup of coffee, General."
"Damn, right."
The two men stared at each other with a silent understanding, war making men who were enemies elsewhere into understanding comrades and friends. Then, as if on cue, they both turned to stare at the Stargate through the window.
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Daniel blinked when he saw who was already in his office.
"Guess you were right, sir," Sam said cheerfully as she tilted her mug back and took a sip. "He did try to sneak out. I owe you ten dollars." She was seated on one of the chairs by his bookshelves next to Teal'c. The Jaffa nodded his head at Daniel.
"Daniel Jackson."
"Uh...hey, Teal'c." The archeologist rubbed his eyes and turned to look at Jack's smirk.
"What can I say, Daniel?" Jack gave him a gentle push towards a chair by the computer. "There are times when you can be so freaking predictable." O'Neill made his way around the table and plopped down backwards on the only empty chair left. He nodded towards a lone mug at the corner of the table and grinned. "That's yours."
Daniel shook his head. "When did my office become a briefing room?" he asked as he looped his fingers through the handle and brought the container close to him. He sat down, and his eyebrow went up when he peered inside and realized it wasn't coffee.
O'Neill didn't say anything, but everyone could see his smirk as he brought his cup up to his lips for a drink.
Daniel shot Jack a disbelieving look. "Warm milk?"
"O'Neill said it would be best if you did not drink coffee, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c explained.
"Janet did say none of that stuff for you for the time being," soothed Sam. "She's not sure how the neuar in your system will react to it."
Daniel glared at Jack.
The colonel had the gall to look innocent, not quite succeeding with the smirk on his face. "Hey, I said we saved you a cup. I didn't say anything about coffee."
"What about him?" Daniel complained in a huff as he sat the milk down with a face. "He had some neuar also."
Jack tilted his cup for him to see. "Just plain water, Danny boy. See?"
Daniel eyed Jack curiously.
"Trust me. Right now, it tastes real good." Smacking his lips, Jack emptied the mug with a sigh. "Their water had a funny taste in it. Never thought I would be so glad to drink my own stuff again."
"Considering where they were located, they probably had to use some sort of extraction method to get water from their surroundings," Sam mused out loud as she swiveled in her seat towards the computer. "Maybe a sort of salt filtration system or a purification of the ice in that cave you were telling me about before, sir." She fiddled with the keyboard, the screensaver of dancing Egyptians vanishing as the active blue screen returned.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Thank you for the fascinating lecture on H2O, Doctor Carter." He shook his head and rested it on top of the chair's back.
Daniel's eyes darted back and forth between his teammates. "Guys, why are we here?"
Carter blinked innocently at the question. "Well, billions of years ago, there was a small chemical implosion in the vac—"
"Carter!" Jack took his mug, pretending he was going to throw it at her. Teal'c raised his eyebrow at the colonel.
"Gotcha." Sam grinned. "Always wanted to do that. Saw it in a cartoon once."
Daniel sighed, shaking his head.
"Daniel?"
He raised his gaze and found Sam looking at him worriedly.
"We all couldn't sleep," Jack spoke from the back. He spun on his chair left and right. "Thought we might as well gawk at each other until the sun comes up."
"Why can't you sleep?" Puzzled, Daniel swiveled to Sam with concern.
Carter shrugged. "I don't know. This whole day has been too weird. Was on my bed and couldn't stop thinking."
"Typical," commented Jack. Sam shot him a glare.
"It was indeed a shock to see Major Carter's double," Teal'c intoned. "It was quite different to hear her referred to as Commander Hansen and not as Major Carter or Doctor Carter."
The men in the room pinned their gaze on Sam. The major flushed.
"And that's just it," she mumbled, flicking her fingers at the keyboard. "You all remember what...what he was like. Even now, I can't understand how she could have married such a man. I mean...Jonas...even before this project was a bit of an aggressive control freak. He was on the edge, on a tightrope. There was no way we could have lived under the same roof. No way." Carter shrugged. "When I heard my doppelganger being called Hansen, I mean...wow..."
"You're thinking of the Jonas Hansen you knew," Daniel pointed out. "But maybe he was different in her reality."
Jack nodded. "He has a point, Carter."
Sam shrugged. "It's just weird. I can't picture it. Like how I can't picture Jol—" She stopped, regret flashing across her face.
"I can't believe she's Jolinar," Daniel whispered.
After shooting Carter a glare, Jack nodded. "I have to admit, when I first saw her on that ship, I was taken aback as well. But you can tell she's a totally different person, Daniel."
"I know," whispered Daniel. "I know it's not Sha're...but..." He closed his eyes briefly. "I think back to when I couldn't see...some of her gestures, her manner of speaking, and it's so like S-Sha're. I..." His shoulders slumped.
Jack gazed sadly at Daniel's defeated expression. "But it's not her. It's Jolinar."
"I know. You keep reminding me. I just wish it was."
"I had a hard enough time accepting she was Jolinar, too," Sam admitted. Daniel looked at her, understanding. "I never really interacted with Jolinar when...you know..." She waved towards herself. "All I had was her memories, but I never got the impression of who she was really. It was like meeting her for the first time."
Jack agreed, grunting. "I know what you're saying. Every time I see Kawalsky, I can almost see the glowing eyes. But there he is—alive and kicking." He shook his head.
"It's so strange," Daniel whispered. "You half expect the same people in your reality would be there as well. But it's not. Some who are alive here are dead there. And those who are dead here are alive there."
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "Not every reality we have encountered had the same exact people." He frowned. "My own selves were quite different. They still served under Apophis." His eyes darkened, the only indication of his disapproval.
"It didn't mean they were bad," Daniel argued. "Just that they were serving their god. Their dedication could have been enforced long ago with fear, manipulation, and threatening their families." Daniel's blue eyes dulled. "Like—"
"John O'Neill," Jack said grimly. "He was consorting with the bad guys, but it didn't make him a candidate for the firing squad." He ruefully rubbed his chin, wincing at the bruise he could feel under his fingertips.
Daniel arched an eyebrow, noting the faint black and blue just below Jack's lower lip. "What happened to you?"
Grimacing, Jack drawled "Let's just say me, myself and I had a very interesting discussion, and we weren't sitting down having tea and crumpets."
Daniel swallowed. "Oh. I take it didn't go very well?"
"I wouldn't say that either. I opened his eyes." Stretching, Jack sat up straighter. "Besides, this lovely gift from him wasn't because he hated my guts. It was because of you."
"Me?"
Carter turned sharply to her CO. "He blamed you for what happened to Daniel?" She waved towards the healing wounds on Daniel's temples.
The archeologist's hands flew up to his head automatically. "But Jack couldn't stop them from..." He swallowed, unable to finish. "No one could have stopped them." He could feel the guards' hands gripping him, pinning him down, Frasier's eyes visually molesting him, Hathor's smirk, looming over him. Their laughter roared in his ears as they boldly leaned forward to possess him, but his eyes were glued to the silver discs that came closer and closer...
"Daniel!"
Daniel started and jerked back when he saw Jack's tense face inches from his. How did Jack get over here so quickly? He tried to pull away, but Jack had him firmly held by the shoulders.
"Daniel?" Sam was looking over Jack anxiously, Teal'c stood over them all, his usual bland expression holding a hint of concern as well. "Daniel? Are you okay? You started shaking. We thought you were having a seizure or something!"
"I'm okay," he managed, shrugging away from Jack. "I'm okay. Some stuff is a bit vivid still."
"...Che mar, he comes..."
Daniel clenched his fists. "And some is not."
"Daniel?" Jack released his grip but didn't step back.
"Thought for a moment there, thought something was coming to me. Damn it, I can't remember!"
"Easy," Jack murmured, reaching out to Daniel with a hand, but Daniel jerked back, kicking his feet until his chair rolled away a few inches, slamming into the edge of his desk.
"No, it's important! I just...argh, I can't remember!" Frustrated, Daniel banged his fist on the table, dropping his head. Breathing heavily, he didn't continue.
Jack shook his head at Carter's silent inquiry, at her nod towards the door. He had a feeling this wasn't something Frasier could just make go away. If he knew Daniel, judging by the slumped posture, she was part of the problem. He gestured to everyone to just sit back down. He also sat down on his chair, pulling it closer to Daniel's seat and waited.
Fully aware of everyone's worried gaze on the top of his head, Daniel didn't speak. He only concentrated on breathing in and out, waiting for his lungs to loosen, his heart to calm before he even dared to lift his head up and face them after that humiliating outburst.
"It was a surprise to see Maybourne," Sam suddenly said to fill the silence.
Jack laughed on cue. "No kidding. Would you believe he's actually nice?"
"No!" she gasped dramatically.
"Really." O'Neill's chair creaked. "I actually like the guy."
"He did appear to be quite the honorable warrior, O'Neill," Teal'c said over Daniel's head.
"I was thinking more along the lines that he had more hair than our Maybourne."
Carter chuckled.
"You know he actually made a joke, too."
A mock gasp could be heard from Sam. "Sir! Are you sure?"
"Colonel Maybourne does not dispense humor."
"Yeah, but General Maybourne does. He said not to worry, he wasn't going to dissect us or anything."
"Oh God, that's amazing."
"How's that for a trip to Wonderland?"
"What is Wonder—"
"Never mind, Teal'c," Sam jumped in hastily. "I can't believe how different he is. I mean...compared to the Colonel Maybourne we know and interact with, it's a vast difference in personality and even body language—"
"War can change people," Daniel suddenly said, not raising his head.
The room fell silent.
Jack pursed his lips. He would have expected any of the soldiers here to say that, long time veterans with enough dark memories to say it with the dull tone of finality that Daniel just sported. But to hear it from Daniel.
Carter darted her eyes from O'Neill to Daniel, sadly noting the two had nothing more to say. They had none of the light banter they often exchanged, which while sometimes heated, could be oddly reassuring. But they were both silent now, still deep in their own thoughts.
"It is fortunate this has not occurred in our reality," Teal'c spoke. "We have managed to grasp our own fate and avoided such outcomes."
"We were lucky," Daniel said bitterly.
"I wouldn't call it luck," Jack interjected.
"Then what would you call it?"
Sam watched the exchange with a growing dread. They were talking again, but she didn't like what she was hearing.
"I don't call it anything, Daniel. I just call it a different way of things ending up."
"That doesn't seem fair." Lifting a heavy head, Daniel wearily looked back at Jack, ignoring the others. "Some things are so different over there, Jack. Some good, some bad...very bad. Sometimes," Daniel sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes I really have to wonder what we each did that made our reality as it is."
"Like I said before, I don't think about it. I'm just glad." Getting up, the conversation giving him a bad taste, Jack walked around the room, heading for the bookcases. He leaned on the shelves casually, eyes drifting to one volume he recalled seeing back in the sub. When he turned back to Daniel, saw his gaze fixed there as well, Jack knew he was thinking of the same thing. Deliberately, Jack turned to Carter.
"What about you, Carter? Do you wonder how we ended up with the good roll of the dice?"
Sam blinked, caught off guard. "Me, sir? Well, every choice we make branches—"
Jack waved his hand, shaking his head. "No, I don't want the Einstein theory, I want your theory."
She bit her lower lip and shrugged.
Jack arched his eyebrow. "That's it? Just," he imitated her, shrugging his own shoulders. "Just that? Nothing fancier?"
"It is hard to determine what has changed our destiny, O'Neill," Teal'c said. He fixed his gaze on Daniel. "But as I have said once before, our reality is the only one of consequence."
"But that seems so cold, though," murmured Daniel with a sad turn of the mouth. "We can't just be grateful we got off lucky and ignore the rest."
"I did not say that, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel looked up at Teal'c.
Teal'c stood there, straight and tall, his voice firm. "Ours is the only one of consequence, yes. But it also means we should endeavor to ensure other realities can embrace the same result."
"What result is that?" Jack asked from his spot, arms folded as he waited for the response.
Teal'c didn't look at Jack. He fixed his eyes on Daniel instead. "Freedom."
Jack smiled to himself. Attaboy, big guy.
"Ra can't stay there," Daniel said determinedly, squaring his shoulders.
"Nope. And we're going to give him his eviction notice when he arrives," Jack cheerfully replied. "We have everything we need to get into his place, right?" He looked around the room.
"We have both tablets," Daniel spoke up.
"And Dan O'Neill has discovered a key to open the inner mazes as well," Teal'c added.
Daniel frowned. "Key?"
"The pendant Catherine Langford often wears around her neck." The Jaffa had a grim look on his face. "Dan O'Neill mentioned briefly they no longer have the key in their reality. It was quite fortunate we did."
Sam frowned as well. "No longer have?" She tapped her foot, thinking. "What? You mean she lost it? It was destroyed?"
"She's probably dead," was Daniel's response.
Jack whipped back at Daniel. "Daniel, you don't know that."
"I just have this really bad feeling that's what probably happened." Daniel shrugged, pretending it didn't bother him, but he could feel Jack's gaze boring through his head. To hide from it, Daniel pulled his mug to his lips, acting as if he was drinking the warm milk. But when he lowered the mug and caught Jack's eye, Jackson knew O'Neill wasn't fooled. "Happened when I was in the other reality the first time."
Daniel pulled his glasses up and rubbed his eyes wearily with the heel of his hand. "Back then, she got me out. Dialed the Stargate to send me back, then let down the shield so the guards couldn't reach me." He laughed sadly. "She said...she said she sort of owed me." He looked at his friends. "Me? I would say it was the other way around. She died saving my life."
"It was the other Catherine Langford who perished, Daniel Jackson."
"Right," Jack murmured, shaking off the gut twisting sensation at Daniel's recollection. "She's alive and well over here, Daniel."
Daniel tiredly nodded. "And because of it, we have this key that they never would have had in the first place. So that means, they never would have had a chance to get to Ra had they not stumbled through to our reality."
Jack clenched his jaw. He'd just been thinking the same thing.
"God, do you know how creepy that sounds?" Daniel shook his head, then dropped it to his chair support, staring at the ceiling. He let his arms dangle down. "We have to help these people, Jack."
"We will."
"The Asgards will stop them, Daniel," Sam jumped in. "We have the reactor and the hard drive. All we need is—"
"A Stargate," Jack finished with a grim tone. "Which they no longer have because they blew theirs up."
"There's still the one in Cheyenne, sir." Tapping her chin with her index finger, Sam gave it some thought. "It's just a matter of getting to it."
Daniel watched as the ceiling blurred. He took off his glasses and closed his eyes. "And what about Ra?"
"We do the tried and true method," quipped Jack.
Daniel wryly smiled. "Blow him up into little tiny bits?"
"Oh yeah. That's the ticket!"
Everyone chuckled softly. The sounds faded away and fell back into stillness, but it was a more comfortable silence now. Enclosed inside the cluttered office, Daniel could hear their breathing, reminding him of those nights on missions when he couldn't sleep. He would lie there in his sleeping bag, waiting for his turn at watch, just taking comfort in the sounds of the slow pace of their breathing and activity.
"God, it's great to be back," Jack suddenly said.
Daniel nodded in silent agreement.
"Okay, kids. It's now officially late. Shoo. Go to bed. You too, Daniel." Jack rose from his chair, grimacing as he felt his back pop. He rubbed at one spot, mentally noting he couldn't even feel the aches from the whippings now and smiled. It faded when he cast his gaze on Daniel, who was still sitting there, eyes closed, head towards the ceiling. "We've got briefing in less than six hours. I want everyone perky tomorrow. Go. That's an order."
"Night, sir," Sam murmured, reluctantly getting up.
Teal'c bowed his head as his way of bidding them good night and left.
Sam lingered a bit, watching Daniel's face and briefly thought of Jolinar. She wondered if Daniel was thinking of her or the face she wore. She impulsively placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Night, Daniel."
She only got a faint response from him. "Night, Sam."
Jack nodded as she murmured good night to him, waiting until he and Daniel were the only two left. He then stepped away from the shelves and sat down on a chair, rolling it towards the archeologist, using his feet like paddles. He stopped within a foot from where Daniel was, chair backed up against the table and waited.
"Night, Jack," Daniel wearily said without moving.
Jack stayed where he was.
Daniel raised his head, opening his eyes. "Good night, Jack."
"Good night, Daniel," Jack said innocently but stayed where he was.
Sighing, Daniel stood. "Look, I'm not really tired, and I thought I might as well go to the labs and get a head start on the tablets before Dan gets there."
"It can wait 'til tomorrow. We've still got three days and eight hours," Jack reminded him.
"It's only three days, Jack." Daniel raised his mug, intending to move it to his computer, readying to sit down and get to work.
Jack watched Daniel stand there in front of his computer, holding his cup and quietly asked him the one question he hadn't dared bring up before, the one question that had nagged him since he'd found Daniel caught in his nightmare.
"Who's Lily?"
Daniel's arm jerked, and the mug dropped, impacting with the edge of the desk, spilling the milk before crashing into bits on the floor by his feet.
Daniel stammered, crouching down. "I miscalculated the distance. Still can't see too clearly—"
Jack narrowed his eyes as he watched Daniel ramble on, hands frantically hovering over the broken pieces as if trying to figure a way to piece it all back together again. Suddenly, Daniel gave up, kneeling there, elbows braced over his bent knees with his head bowed.
"You didn't answer my question, Daniel."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Is she why you're like this right now? Was she the difference between you and Dan? Was she what happened in that park in '71?"
Daniel shrugged listlessly.
"I'm not trying to meddle," Jack began.
Daniel snorted.
"But," Jack stressed, ignoring the response. "I'm worried."
Surprised, Daniel glanced sideways at him.
Jack sat up. "What? I am!" He waved a finger at him in mock anger. "And if you let that get around the base, I swear I'll have you tarred and feathered before I shove you out of the Stargate to whatever P something planet we go to!"
Giving Jack a wan smile, Daniel shook his head. He stared at the broken bits on the floor.
"Daniel?"
Rocking on his heels, Daniel sighed out loud. "If I just say she's a person I am very glad I got away from, would you leave it alone?"
Pursing his lips, eyebrows going up and down, Jack gave it some thought. "Maybe."
Daniel's shoulders slumped. "I really don't want to talk about her, Jack."
Staring at the shattered pieces of pottery on the floor, Daniel didn't answer. He sat there, rocking on his heels. He could almost hear her screaming at him, calling him all sorts of names, him sitting there too scared to try and pick up the broken glass which would have appeased her quickly. No, he'd sat there as a kid, shaking, wondering why she was like this to him, unable to understand then that she was sick in the mind, and it had nothing to do with him.
Jack watched Daniel, his brow furrowing. "That bad?"
Daniel shrugged.
Sighing, Jack realized it was the most he was going to get out of the archeologist for the moment. He got up and went over to his friend. Daniel looked up blearily.
"Get up," Jack said, extending his hand. "Here, let me help you."
Daniel smiled at the hand offered to him. "It's okay. You don't need to help me."
"What if I want to help you?"
Wide eyes flew to Jack's face. They crinkled as Daniel smiled again.
"That's usually enough." He got up on his own, gazing down at the broken mug. Daniel looked away, wearily massaging his neck with a hand.
"Promise me something," Jack said abruptly.
Daniel stopped and turned to him.
"Promise me you save thinking for this mission until the end?"
Frowning, Daniel showed he didn't understand.
Jack waved at the mug, then at Daniel. "Stop thinking about why, how come, and all that stuff. It'll mess with you. Can even get you killed. Promise me this stops here." He stared at Daniel. "And I promise you I won't ask again for this entire mission."
"For the entire mission?" Pretending to think it over, Daniel shrugged. "I don't know. Not much of a deal."
"Hey, I'm not telling you to stop thinking for good!" Jack waved his hands at Daniel. "That's like telling Carter to use only one syllable words or English. Can't be done. Some things you can't mess with in the universe. Just for this mission. Just get the job done, and stay alive. That's all I ask. No moral issues, no deep thoughts, just survive."
Daniel looked at Jack. "I can do that."
"I hope so." Jack clapped Daniel on the shoulder. He raised his wrist, revealing the bracelet still wrapped around it. "Because the moment we get home and I can take this off, I am going to sit down with you, and we're going to have that talk."
Something flickered in Daniel's eyes. "It's all right. I'm ok."
"Look, you've been saying that since day one. This talk is going to get done whether you like it or not. So next time when you say you're okay, I can believe it." Jack gave the shoulder a shake. "Do I make myself clear? Or do I have to tattoo it on your forehead?"
"Loud and clear." Daniel weakly smiled.
Jack pulled Daniel by the shoulder, steering him towards the door. "Good. Then you go beddy bye, and I'll see you in the morning."
"But—"
"Go before I tape you down on that bed." Giving Daniel a firmer push, taking care not to push too hard, Jack watched as Daniel nodded tiredly. As the archeologist left the office, Jack took another glance at the floor and the broken pieces. His eyes dulled, saddened, as he pulled the door shut on its wreckage.
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John peered down at Dan, who was leaning heavily against him. The younger man had shifted over, giving John some space, and the two brothers had sat on the bed for John didn't know how long.
"I won't let you down again. I swear."
John closed his eyes. After that promise, no more words were exchanged. He spent the rest of the time sitting next to Dan, his hand rubbing his brother's arm up and down, coaxing the shivering to dissipate long enough for Dan to go to sleep.
Knuckles brushing against thin, bony arms, John felt nauseous, realizing Dan was literally slipping away physically and soon mentally.
Could he really do it? Could John pull the trigger? Could he take the gun, put it against Dan's jaw and—
John's arm twitched on its own, screaming with its own denial of the horrible possibility. He shuddered.
"J-john?"
His eyes flew open, and he gazed down at Dan's curled up form. "Nothing, Mutt."
"It didn't feel like nothing."
He absently rubbed Dan's arm; his other hand brushed away a stray lock from over Dan's eyes. He jerked his hand back when the hair parted, revealing blank pupils. Even now, after all this time, he couldn't stand the sight of it on Dan.
"John?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking."
Dan chuckled weakly. "Dangerous thing to do."
"Tell me about it." John gave Dan's shoulders a squeeze. "Go back to sleep. Don't you have to see Daniel tomorrow and work on the tablets?"
"Yeah." Dan fell silent.
John snagged a corner of a blanket and draped it over both of them. He carefully tucked in the corners around Dan.
"John?"
"Yeah?"
Dan's voice was small. "Do...do you think we'll really beat Ra?"
John looked down at him, stunned. "Do you have any doubts?"
Quietly, almost nonexistent, Dan whispered, "Yes."
John tilted his head, resting his cheek on top of Dan's hair. "Sometimes...sometimes, me too. But not this time. I just know we can beat him." He sat up straighter and ruffled Dan's hair. "I mean, what are the chances of coming across another dimension? Right? And they're practically offering us the golden goose. Luck is on our side."
"Luck." Dan sat up higher as well.
"What? What is it?"
"Catherine's necklace." Dan extended his hands, patting the blankets for it. "She always said it was a good luck charm for her. Where is it? God, where did I put it?"
John reached out and grabbed Dan's hands. The younger brother stopped. John released the hands and slowly slipped his own hand behind him, to the pillow tucked between his back and the bed's headboard. His fingers brushed across metal, and he pulled out the necklace. Gingerly, he dropped it into Dan's hands.
"You stuck it behind the pillow," John reminded him, sadly realizing Dan couldn't even remember. The younger man nodded, fingers brushing the ornament. "Some things never change, huh?"
Dan nodded, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "And some things do." He reached out one hand, feeling John's face. His other hand brought the necklace over to his older brother. Shakily, Dan tried to loop it over John's neck, but he was shaking too much to achieve it until John dipped his head lower, letting the necklace drop. The charm rested against his collarbone.
"For luck," Dan said softly.
"Thanks," croaked John. He patted Dan on the shoulder, not trusting himself to speak further. Dan sighed and lowered his head against his arm.
"I'm tired, John. So tired."
John swallowed. "Then sleep. I'll be here."
Even in the dark, John could see the smile, feel the body relax further. Boneless, Dan sank down to the bed, guided by John's hands. The captain settled Dan in, pulling the blankets even higher. He retreated, still sitting on the bed and gazed down at Dan. His hand went up to the pendant, vaguely feeling the carved eye on it. How ironic he was going to wear Ra's symbol when he went to destroy him.
"For luck," John whispered. He leaned his head back against the headboard and spent the rest of the night staring at the darkness.