The Halls of Osiris
Part 2:
He could hear them coming before the squad leader spoke.
//Hey, you! Earthman!// Ok, rough translation. //Get away from the door!//
"I'm nowhere near the door, and you know it, you tek'lar." Daniel's response had become
almost a ritual phrase over the last few days, only the ending changing to suit his mood. Teal'c's
list of Jaffa curses and epithets was getting a work-out. He might have to branch out; oddly
enough, the Tollan had some interesting phrases. . .
He winced when the Jaffa bellowed his order even louder than usual. Right, this is different.
Dren'ac doesn't want to play.
Daniel made a noisy show of sliding the scant few feet his chains allowed into the cell before
answering.
//I'm away from the door, Dren'ac.// What now?
The door opened silently to reveal an escort squad of Jaffa arrayed around a central figure.
Ah, a show of authority for the new prisoner. Got'cha, you mud-borne geerah.
The show continued as the new unfortunate was unceremoniously shoved into the cell. Dren'ac
tripped him on the way in, and the prisoner landed hard on both knees, gasping.
The cell door slammed shut again and Daniel waited until his new cellmate had caught his
breath before speaking.
"Welcome to the Halls of Osiris."
~~~~~~~~~~
Well, good, Dr. Jackson. Nice waste of a perfectly good melodramatic line. He obviously
doesn't understand a word you just said.
Daniel sighed. He was definitely slipping. Slipping away. Sliding down a slippery slope.
Without a rope.
He stifled an almost uncontrollable urge to giggle. He could almost hear Jack's voice hissing at
him furiously: "Dammit, Daniel! Pull it together!"
Yep, Jack, if you were here, you'd be right. My brain cells are definitely not all firing in unison.
Why not?
The last week blurred together, events slipping out of context to appear where they were often
least expected, but he was sure of a few things. He'd been singled out and separated from the
rest of SG-1 for capture. He'd been zatted, ribboned, interrogated, zatted, beaten, interrogated
again--- and was now in good enough health to be trading insults with his captors, which meant
he was obviously missing something. Quality time with a sarcophagus, perhaps?
As much as he hated the thought, it made sense. It explained his comparatively good condition.
It also more than explained his state of mind.
He'd been entirely too confident considering his position over the last couple of days, and too
energetic by half, almost manic now that he thought back on it, pacing for hours at a time,
searching and re-searching a roughly twelve-square-foot area that he already knew by heart.
Shouting at the walls. Now his energy was waning but his frustration was rising. He was
cranky, irritable, and he couldn't think clearly, and if he closed his eyes--- yes, there it was. That
gnawing, giddy feeling. That hunger.
Daniel's eyes snapped back open as a wave of terror swelled through him. Withdrawal. He had
to get out of here. Osiris would recognize the symptoms; he'd know that before too much longer
all he would have to do was put Daniel in a room with one of the Goa'uld healing devices and
all of the secrets of the Tau'ri, of Stargate Command, of Earth, would be his for the asking.
His new companion inched forward slightly, his expression wary but concerned by the change in
Daniel's demeanor. Daniel had forgotten about him.
"My friend, we are in serious trouble."
