Chapter 4

Thompkins tripped as he came out of the wormhole, then staggered down the ramp with Teal'c gliding serenely at his shoulder. Though breathless and drenched in sweat, the linguist's brown eyes glittered with excitement. Virtually ignoring Hammond's "Welcome back, gentlemen," he made a beeline for Carter.

"I've got it, Major. I really think I've got it."

Jack folded his arms and looked at Carter, eyebrow raised. "You have any idea what exactly it is that he's got?"

"Kanari showed me their archives. The Samposians have a collection of documents--birth and death records, historical accounts, religious texts--that have lain there, untouched, for decades. Maybe even centuries!" Thompkins spoke so quickly the words ran together.

"Part of the problem is that their language has evolved to the point that it's become difficult for anyone but a scholar to read the old texts. Sort of like the differences between modern day English and the old English Shakespearean plays are written in, only more severe. You know, it's really quite fascinating the way dialect and vocabulary, not to mention pronunciation can be dramatically influenced by--"

"For cryin' out loud, Thompkins, cut to the chase!"

The General gave Jack a quelling look before turning to Thompkins. "Dr. Thompkins, I'll be glad to read whatever pertinent insights you've gleaned when you put them in your report. But for now, Dr. Jackson's life may depend on what you can tell us about his illness."

"Oh! Uh, of course, General. Sorry." Thompkins sucked in a deep breath. "What was I saying?"

Jack's fingers twitched with the need to strangle the linguist. "The documents," he growled through clenched teeth.

Oblivious, Thompkin's face lit up. "Yes! Anyway, in the documents I found accounts of a terrible plague that nearly wiped out the Samposian people more than five hundred years ago. The initial outbreak occurred during a period of unusually hot, humid weather and spread rapidly throughout the whole population. Thousands died--it was the equivalent of the Black Plague in Europe."

"Was there a description of the disease?" Fraiser asked.

"Dizziness, muscle aches, fever, rash, respiratory failure..." Thompkins swallowed, no longer smiling. "The victims either died from heart failure or drowned in their own fluids."

Jack felt the words like a punch to the gut. He looked at Fraiser, who nodded. "That's it. It has to be."

"So this thing practically destroyed them five hundred years ago. How did they get rid of it?" Jack realized he was looming when Thompkins took a step backward.

"And why aren't they sick now?" Carter added. "We've been told illness is virtually nonexistent among the Samposian people."

"That's it! That's what I've been trying to tell you." Thompkins waved his hands. "According to the historical accounts, the Samposians came to believe the plague was a sign from their god. Their society had grown increasingly secular in nature, and they believed God sent the illness as a punishment for their lack of worship and obeisance. That began what's historically known as the Age of Repentance--a widespread revival of the old beliefs and practices. And the disease disappeared."

Carter's eyes widened. "You think that one of these 'religious practices' wound up being a cure for the disease?"

Thompkins grinned. "Not only that, Major. I think I know which one." He looked over his shoulder. "Teal'c?"

The Jaffa removed his knapsack and extracted what looked like a wine bottle. He carefully placed it into Doctor Fraiser's hands.

Thompkins gestured to the bottle. "One of the main Samposian religious rituals is very similar to our celebration of the Lord's Supper--or Communion. The ceremony, performed weekly, involves the consumption of this drink made from the fruit of one of their indigenous plants. It was one of the first forms of worship reinstated during their time of repentance, and they've been doing it...ah...religiously, ever since."

You could have heard a pin drop. Carter looked at Fraiser. "Could it really be that simple?"

Fraiser stared at the bottle in her hands. "It's certainly possible that something in the Samposians' diet could be what's preventing them from contracting the disease." She looked up at Carter. "We need to analyze this, determine the exact chemical composition."

"Daniel doesn't have time for analysis."

All eyes rested on Jack, and Fraiser's glare was positively glacial. "Colonel O'Neill, are you suggesting we give Daniel an unknown, *alien* substance without first determining what's in it? Sir, in his weakened state, it could kill him."

"Doc, he's half dead already." Jack ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he was only making it more unruly. "You said it yourself--his heart is weakening. Hell, you nearly lost him not ten minutes ago! By the time you and Carter finish tinkering with that stuff, it could be too late. I say we take the risk."

"The Samposians' physiology is essentially human," Carter said quietly. "If this wine isn't harmful to them, in theory, it shouldn't hurt Daniel."

"Doctor?" General Hammond's tone made it clear Fraiser was in charge.

She scowled. "This goes against everything I've been taught; it violates the very essence of my responsibility for the health and well-being of my patient. A wrong decision could cost Daniel his life."

Teal'c's mellow baritone startled them all. "Perhaps we should ask ourselves what Daniel Jackson would wish, if he were able to express himself."

Way to go, T! "He'd tell us to go for it." Jack looked at each of them. "You know he would."

Fraiser hesitated a moment longer before her shoulders went slack. "All right. I'll have to insert a naso-gastric tube since he's sedated." She took a deep breath. "I hope I'm not going to regret this."

Jack kept silent. He'd started the ball rolling, now he could only hope Daniel would benefit. If anyone wound up bearing the blame for this one, it would be him.

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Funny, how little things could become so very important. The steady, unvarying beat of the heart monitor. Skin that no longer burned beneath his fingertips. And, most of all, a chest that rose and fell naturally, to the sleeper's own rhythm. Gratitude and relief welled up, and Jack quickly closed his eyes to stave off the flow.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a dramatic turn around."

Jack's eyes flew open at the sound of Fraiser's voice. She crossed to the other side of the bed, adjusted the oxygen mask covering Daniel's nose and mouth, and then joined Jack in Daniel-watching.

"How many times does this make, huh, Doc?" he shook his head, his lips curved in a rueful smile. "He's *got* to stop doing this to me. Bad enough I've gone gray--next thing you know it'll be falling out."

"Just thirty-six hours and he's breathing on his own. His lungs are still congested, but they're steadily improving. As soon as he's able to take liquids by mouth we'll get rid of the feeding tube. The rash has even begun to disappear." Fraiser's expression was bemused. "There are a lot of people anxious to get their hands on that wine."

"He's, uh, really going to be all right?" Jack tried for nonchalant, but even he could hear the plea for reassurance in his question.

"Weeell, he's still got a long road to travel. I wouldn't be surprised if he's dropped five pounds, and there's always the possibility of pneumonia or some other secondary infection..."

"But?"

Fraiser smiled. "Let's just say my money is on Daniel making a full recovery."

"Sucker's bet, Doc. We are talking about the come back kid, after all."

Fraiser's sobered. "Thank God." She turned an assessing eye on Jack. "You're looking better yourself, Colonel. I see my nurses finally made sure you found the shower and a razor."

Jack rubbed a hand over his now-smooth chin. "The hygiene jokes were getting old."

"Wouldn't hurt you to catch up on some sleep. There's no reason for you and Daniel to have matching circles under your eyes."

"Yeah, well... Sanderson mentioned you stopped the sedation. She said there's a good chance he might wake up soon." Jack shrugged. "Thought I'd stick around a bit longer."

"You do realize he'll be pretty groggy?"

"All the more reason to make sure he sees a friendly face."

Fraiser slid Daniel's chart into the pocket at the end of the bed. "Fine. But if he hasn't surfaced in another hour, I suggest you get Sam or Teal'c to spell you. Rest now--you're going to have your hands full once Daniel is discharged."

Jack put on his best expression of outrage. "Who decided I'd be the one playing nursemaid?"

Fraiser just cocked an eyebrow and headed for the door. "One hour, sir. And remember--I've got spies everywhere."

"Pint-sized powermonger," Jack muttered under his breath. He adjusted his chair so he could lean back more comfortably while maintaining contact with Daniel's hand.

"Well, Daniel, here we are. Once again you've sideswiped death and managed to scare the crap out of all of us. Gotta tell you--this is getting as old as the nursing staff's smelly Irishman jokes.

"Ya know, I could tell you were gonna be a pain in the ass from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Pissing people off right and left by being too damn smart for your own good." Jack snickered under his breath. "I thought Kawalski was gonna kill you. But somehow you managed to win him over." His smile faded to the barest curve of lips. "Me too."

Jack thought about the first Abydos mission, the way Daniel seemed to surprise him at every turn. His eagerness to embrace a new culture and its people. His ability to pick up the language in an astonishingly brief period of time. His competency with a weapon. And, oh yeah--his willingness to sacrifice his own life to save Jack, a man who had already written him off as a "dweeb."

"I've never regretted making you a part of SG-1, Daniel. You've been our heart, our conscience. Even though you annoy the shit out of me, I wouldn't have it any other way. The year you were gone... Jonas tried his best, and he's a good enough kid, I guess. But...it was like we were sleepwalking." Jack scrubbed both hands over his face. "I don't want to go back there, damn it. So you'd better start being a lot more careful and quit with the near-death experiences. It's pissing me off."

"Sorry."

Jack jerked forward, delighted to see a pair of blue eyes struggling to focus on his face. "Hey. Look who decided to grace us with his presence."

Daniel blinked, his gaze wandering lazily around the room as a small line appeared between his brows.

"Infirmary, remember?"

"Sick?" Daniel's voice, raspy and insubstantial, was muffled by the oxygen mask.

"Yeah, but you're getting better. You're only half dead now. How do you feel?"

The frown deepened and he swallowed hard. "Throat hurts." He reached an unsteady hand toward the tube in his nose but Jack caught it and lowered it to the bed.

"Fraiser said that would come out soon. Here." Jack reached for the styrofoam cup of ice chips. Moving aside the mask, he held a spoonful to Daniel's lips. His friend accepted them with a sigh.

Surreptitious letting his hand brush Daniel's cheek as he offered another spoonful, Jack noted with relief that although he felt fever, it was nowhere near the blistering heat of the day before.

After three scoops Daniel turned his head. "'S enough." His eyelids were already drooping and Jack was certain he would soon be asleep. He was surprised when Daniel's body tensed and his eyes opened wide.

"Sean?"

Crap. Jack hesitated, unsure if he should break the bad news when Daniel was so weak. Something in his expression must have given him away. Daniel shut his eyes but a tear escaped and ran down the side of his face, leaving a dark spot on the pillow.

"Daniel." Jack wiped the moisture away with his thumb, feeling the same sickening helplessness he felt whenever life dealt Daniel another blow. "Fraiser did everything she could. I'm sorry."

Daniel didn't open his eyes. "Tired."

Jack brushed away another trickle of moisture and replaced the oxygen mask. "It's okay, Danny. Sleep."

Daniel's breathing gradually slipped into the deep, even cadence of sleep. Jack dried his damp fingers on his pants. As the adrenaline rush from Daniel's waking faded, weariness slammed into him.

"O'Neill."

Somehow Teal'c was standing at his shoulder. Jack stood, wincing at stiff muscles. "Teal'c. I didn't hear you come in."

"You appeared to be quite preoccupied. Has Daniel Jackson's condition deteriorated?"

"No, no. Just the opposite. He woke up for a few minutes."

"That is good news." Teal'c lifted an eyebrow. "Dr. Fraiser suggested I relieve you in this vigil."

"She did, did she?"

"Indeed. She asked me to remind you that your annual physical is next month. She said you would understand her intent."

"Yeah, I get the picture. Think I'll go crash in my quarters."

"That would seem advisable."

Jack squinted at the Jaffa, but as usual, Teal'c's impassive features gave away nothing. He crossed the room on protesting knees, pausing in the doorway. "T?"

Teal'c looked up from his scrutiny of Daniel's face.

"Don't leave him alone, okay?"

Teal'c inclined head.

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Concluded in chapter 5