*Wow! Thanks you guys for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying this,
because I'm enjoying it too. I promise to write as fast as I can without
letting it get sloppy*
He dreamed of Daniel again. All his dreams were of Daniel, but some were better than others. In some of the dreams, the ones that were causing Jack the most sleepless nights and the haunted looks in his eyes, Daniel was dying. Or dead. And accusing him of doing it to him. In his dreams Jack couldn't even deny it, since he was completely in agreement. It was his fault Daniel was dead. Even Daniel said so, and who would know better? Other dreams were better. Daniel would talk to him in those gentle tones that Jack remembered so well. A soothing voice that could calm even the angriest diplomat. In these dreams Daniel would assure Jack over and over again that he wasn't to blame. That he was happy where he was. Unfortunately, Jack didn't believe him. The disbelief tended to drive away the soothing dreams, leaving only the vile ones. Dreams that only fueled Jack's depression and self-loathing.
THUD
The noise jerked Jack awake, pulling him from one of the worst dreams yet. He sat up with a start, looking around. Carter was still in her chair next to his bed, but she'd fallen asleep, and a moment later Jack realized that the sound that had woken him had been the book she'd been reading falling to the floor. It hadn't disturbed Carter, though, and Jack watched his 2IC for a moment before reaching over and gently touching her arm.
"Carter." His voice was a stage whisper, but she came awake instantly, afraid something was wrong. Her blue eyes found his and he saw the worry in them and wondered how she could possibly be concerned about him after all the hurt he'd caused their team. And her.
"Sir?"
"You fell asleep, Carter. Go to bed."
Sam shook her head, looking for her book, prepared to tell him she'd only been resting her eyes for a moment, and then noticed how tense he was. His eyes weren't holding the dead expression that she'd become so used to the last few days. Instead there was a haunted look. A hurt and self-loathing that Sam had never seen.
"Sir?"
Almost as if he realized he'd let her see something he shouldn't have, Jack's expression immediately closed up and he made a shooing motion with his hand.
"Go on, Carter. Get some sleep."
"Are you-?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He knew he sounded irritated, but he was trying his level best not to snap at her. "Go on."
Sam didn't argue with him. She couldn't argue with him, and she knew it. He'd just get angry if she tried to get him to admit something was bothering her, and Sam didn't want him angry. Although it would be an improvement over the hurt she'd seen in his eyes. God, if only he'd talk to her! She nodded, unable to think of any reason to stay, and stood up.
"If you need me, Sir, I'll be just down the hall."
"I know, Carter." He closed his eyes, but as tense as he was, Sam knew he wasn't anywhere near sleepy enough to rest.
"Sir-"
"Go to bed, Major."
"Yes, Sir. Good night."
She went to 'her' room, and got into bed, but she was troubled, and sleep was long in coming.
"He's blaming himself, Sam."
Carter's eyes snapped open. Turning, she saw Daniel sitting on the edge of her bed. Just sitting there, looking for all the world like noting had happened. Then she noticed things that weren't quite right. The fact that he wasn't disturbing the part of the mattress he was sitting on, for one. And the fact that he didn't seem to be completely there.
"Wh-what?"
"Jack. He's convinced it was his fault that I died."
"It wasn't. He knows that."
Daniel smiled, but it was a sad smile, and Carter suddenly wanted to cry. She missed him so much.
"You know him better than that, Sam. You probably know him better than anyone. Has he ever not taken the blame when something has gone wrong?"
She was quiet for a moment, trying to come up with an instance that he hadn't, but she was drawing a blank.
Daniel shrugged. "See? He's managed to convince himself that this entire thing was all his fault. And the longer it goes on the worse it's getting."
"I don't know what to do, Daniel," Carter confessed. "You know how he is. The closer you try to get to him, the more he backs away."
"And now it's worse, because he's determined to keep everyone at arm's length to 'keep them safe'."
"Is that what he's doing?"
"I think so."
"What do I do?"
Daniel looked as lost as she felt, and he shrugged once more. "I don't know, Sam. At least you know what's wrong, now. Maybe you'll figure something out."
Sam's eyes snapped open, and she looked around. Morning sunlight was filtering through the curtains and the room was bright and sunny. She looked around, half expecting to see Daniel sitting next to her bed, but there wasn't anyone there.
"It must have been a dream," she murmured to herself as she threw back the covers and got out of bed. But what a dream. It had seemed so real. Like Daniel had actually been there, discussing the Colonel with her. Probably, she mused to herself as she went into the bathroom, it was just wishful thinking. But as she showered she couldn't help but let her mind dwell on the conversation she'd had with him.
He dreamed of Daniel again. All his dreams were of Daniel, but some were better than others. In some of the dreams, the ones that were causing Jack the most sleepless nights and the haunted looks in his eyes, Daniel was dying. Or dead. And accusing him of doing it to him. In his dreams Jack couldn't even deny it, since he was completely in agreement. It was his fault Daniel was dead. Even Daniel said so, and who would know better? Other dreams were better. Daniel would talk to him in those gentle tones that Jack remembered so well. A soothing voice that could calm even the angriest diplomat. In these dreams Daniel would assure Jack over and over again that he wasn't to blame. That he was happy where he was. Unfortunately, Jack didn't believe him. The disbelief tended to drive away the soothing dreams, leaving only the vile ones. Dreams that only fueled Jack's depression and self-loathing.
THUD
The noise jerked Jack awake, pulling him from one of the worst dreams yet. He sat up with a start, looking around. Carter was still in her chair next to his bed, but she'd fallen asleep, and a moment later Jack realized that the sound that had woken him had been the book she'd been reading falling to the floor. It hadn't disturbed Carter, though, and Jack watched his 2IC for a moment before reaching over and gently touching her arm.
"Carter." His voice was a stage whisper, but she came awake instantly, afraid something was wrong. Her blue eyes found his and he saw the worry in them and wondered how she could possibly be concerned about him after all the hurt he'd caused their team. And her.
"Sir?"
"You fell asleep, Carter. Go to bed."
Sam shook her head, looking for her book, prepared to tell him she'd only been resting her eyes for a moment, and then noticed how tense he was. His eyes weren't holding the dead expression that she'd become so used to the last few days. Instead there was a haunted look. A hurt and self-loathing that Sam had never seen.
"Sir?"
Almost as if he realized he'd let her see something he shouldn't have, Jack's expression immediately closed up and he made a shooing motion with his hand.
"Go on, Carter. Get some sleep."
"Are you-?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He knew he sounded irritated, but he was trying his level best not to snap at her. "Go on."
Sam didn't argue with him. She couldn't argue with him, and she knew it. He'd just get angry if she tried to get him to admit something was bothering her, and Sam didn't want him angry. Although it would be an improvement over the hurt she'd seen in his eyes. God, if only he'd talk to her! She nodded, unable to think of any reason to stay, and stood up.
"If you need me, Sir, I'll be just down the hall."
"I know, Carter." He closed his eyes, but as tense as he was, Sam knew he wasn't anywhere near sleepy enough to rest.
"Sir-"
"Go to bed, Major."
"Yes, Sir. Good night."
She went to 'her' room, and got into bed, but she was troubled, and sleep was long in coming.
"He's blaming himself, Sam."
Carter's eyes snapped open. Turning, she saw Daniel sitting on the edge of her bed. Just sitting there, looking for all the world like noting had happened. Then she noticed things that weren't quite right. The fact that he wasn't disturbing the part of the mattress he was sitting on, for one. And the fact that he didn't seem to be completely there.
"Wh-what?"
"Jack. He's convinced it was his fault that I died."
"It wasn't. He knows that."
Daniel smiled, but it was a sad smile, and Carter suddenly wanted to cry. She missed him so much.
"You know him better than that, Sam. You probably know him better than anyone. Has he ever not taken the blame when something has gone wrong?"
She was quiet for a moment, trying to come up with an instance that he hadn't, but she was drawing a blank.
Daniel shrugged. "See? He's managed to convince himself that this entire thing was all his fault. And the longer it goes on the worse it's getting."
"I don't know what to do, Daniel," Carter confessed. "You know how he is. The closer you try to get to him, the more he backs away."
"And now it's worse, because he's determined to keep everyone at arm's length to 'keep them safe'."
"Is that what he's doing?"
"I think so."
"What do I do?"
Daniel looked as lost as she felt, and he shrugged once more. "I don't know, Sam. At least you know what's wrong, now. Maybe you'll figure something out."
Sam's eyes snapped open, and she looked around. Morning sunlight was filtering through the curtains and the room was bright and sunny. She looked around, half expecting to see Daniel sitting next to her bed, but there wasn't anyone there.
"It must have been a dream," she murmured to herself as she threw back the covers and got out of bed. But what a dream. It had seemed so real. Like Daniel had actually been there, discussing the Colonel with her. Probably, she mused to herself as she went into the bathroom, it was just wishful thinking. But as she showered she couldn't help but let her mind dwell on the conversation she'd had with him.
