Chapter 5
A sharp crack and then heat stung his cheek. His eyes flew open and he sucked in a noisy gulp of air. A hand clamped over his mouth, smothering the harsh, grating coughs that immediately followed. Jack gazed up into huge blue eyes, words gradually seeping past the ragged sounds of his own breathing.
"...quit on me now, damn you, just breathe! That's it, nice and deep..."
Jack blinked, but everything swam in and out of focus. A cool breeze ruffled his sweat-damp hair, and he suddenly realized there were stars overhead and a tree root digging into his back.
"Where...?"
Just getting his lips to work took effort; the question emerged as little more than a puff of air. The agony in his shoulder and belly had receded; his body felt heavy and numb. He didn't even realize he'd closed his eyes until Daniel slapped him again.
"Don't you dare fade out on me. I'm getting us out of here and you're going to hang on while I do." Daniel's hushed voice sounded strained. "That's an order, Jack."
He smiled, feeling punch drunk and more than a little dizzy. "I'm...Colonel. I give...orders."
"Yeah, well there's been a mutiny. I'm in charge now."
"'K." His eyes started sliding closed. He vaguely remembered Daniel saying something about that but he was too tired to worry about it.
"Damn it, Jack."
He was tugged up and then hoisted into the air. Jack snapped back to consciousness when his body impacted something hard, his rudely awakened nerve endings screaming their protest. His face pressed into something soft, muffling his involuntary moan. Jack snuffled, smelling sweat and Daniel.
"Wha...?" He couldn't seem to lift his head and his arm thumped bonelessly against Daniel's chest. His friend was moving stealthily through the trees, Jack curled across his shoulders.
"Shhh. Just be still and don't fight me. You're going to bring a bunch of Jaffa down on us."
"Wait...help."
"We can't wait."
Jack licked his lips, shutting his eyes against the nauseating up and down motion. "Not...safe."
"Screw safe. You wouldn't wake up, Jack." Daniel's fingers clamped down on Jack's arm and leg and his voice broke. "You're dying, you stupid bastard. I'm not going to sit around and watch it happen."
Dying? Was he? He caught himself nodding off even as he considered the question. The creeping numbness was seductive--he was so damn tired of hurting. Jack distantly felt his head sink more heavily onto Daniel's shoulder. Drifting...
As if in a dream, he saw Daniel stagger, legs quivering with exhaustion. Heard the hornet's buzz of a staff weapon just before sparks rained down around his friend. He watched Daniel crash to the ground, rolling Jack's limp form off his shoulders and fumbling for the P90. Saw his own body, sprawled motionless amongst the dirt and dead leaves.
Felt...nothing.
//Dad?//
Jack spun around, heart pounding. Daniel, the Jaffa--even his own battered and failing body faded from existence as he stared down at the fingers tugging the hem of his shirt.
//Charlie?//
Jack dropped to his knees, enveloping the small body in a bear hug. He buried his nose in the curve of a shoulder. Soft, warm skin. Silky hair. The familiar scents of soap, shampoo, and--Jack squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to contain his tears--a well-worn leather baseball glove.
//I miss you, kiddo. So much.//
Charlie burrowed into the embrace, sniffling a little as he clutched Jack's tee shirt in both fists. //Me too, Daddy.//
Jack pulled back, cradling the beloved face between his palms as he examined every inch of his son with hungry eyes. He thumbed a few tears from Charlie's cheeks, smiling ruefully.
//I'm guessing your being here means I'm not doing so hot, huh? You willing to hang out with your old man again, show him the ropes?//
Charlie let go of his shirt and stood tall, tipping up his chin and swiping the last of the moisture from his face with the back of one hand. //You don't belong here, Dad.//
Jack frowned, studying his son's expression. Charlie's blue eyes shone with love, regret, and a wisdom far beyond his earthly years. For a split second he had the strangest feeling he no longer knew the little boy standing before him. //What are you talking about? I'm here, aren't I?//
//You have to go back. Your part of the story isn't over. You still have things to do, people who need you.// Charlie pointed to something beneath them. //Daniel needs you.//
Jack looked down. From a distance he could see Daniel hunched over a body, frantically performing CPR. Face pale and twisted with grief, his friend rocked back on his heels and shook the limp form beneath his hands, sobbing for breath. "Don't do this to me. Please, Jack. Don't do this to me."
Feeling as if he were being torn in two, Jack turned back to his son. //What about you?//
Charlie smiled, the wide, beaming grin that never failed to melt Jack's heart. //I'm all right, Dad. I'm in a good place. You don't have to worry about me anymore.//
Jack held out his arms. Charlie flung himself into the hug, nearly knocking him off his feet. The old game, a bittersweet reminder of another time, made him laugh even as tears clogged his throat. He kissed his son's cheek.
//I love you, Charlie. Wait for me?//
//Yeahsureyoubetcha.//
Letting go was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He'd only taken two steps when Charlie called to him. //Dad?//
//Yes?// Despite his best intentions, he choked on the word.
//It wasn't your fault. Tell Daniel--it doesn't have to be anyone's fault.//
Something in his chest loosened--a tight fist that had been clenched around his heart for years. Jack stared into his little boy's eyes and took the first step toward forgiving himself. //I will.//
He experienced a brief, dizzying sensation like free fall, weightless as a dandelion seed floating on a gentle breeze, before he slammed into his body. His senses were instantly assaulted with a cacophony of input--the smell of sweat, smoke, and blood, the sound of Daniel's hoarse, anguished pleas, the sight of his friend's wild, tear-streaked face. And overlaying it all, agony slicing through his belly, his chest, his head.
Jack moaned.
And found himself snatched from the ground and engulfed in a rib-crushing embrace.
"Damn it, Jack. I warned you not to do that to me." Daniel's voice cracked and Jack felt hot moisture trickle down his neck as his friend rocked back and forth.
"Glad to...see you, too...Danny...but you're...ah, God...you're gonna bust...the rest of my ribs."
He regretted his flippant words when Daniel stiffened and gently eased him back onto the ground. His friend busied himself with checking Jack's pulse and fussing with bandages, but Jack could see how deeply shaken his little trip to the Twilight Zone had left Daniel.
"Jaffa?" he croaked.
Carefully supporting Jack's neck, Daniel helped him drink some water. "Clear, for now."
"Heard shots."
"Close call. One of them spotted us and nearly hit me with a staff blast. I shot him with your P90 and got us out of there before the noise could draw reinforcements."
Even muzzy, Jack noticed the way Daniel's hands clenched into fists. More killing. He wondered just how much more his gentle, peacemaking archeologist could take.
"'Gate?"
"Only about three clicks--I think."
"Should...keep going."
"Yeah, well..." Daniel tucked his arms around his chest and looked away, throat working. "Figured it was time for a break. You know--rest my legs, take a drink, see if I could start you breathing again."
Damn. So it wasn't just a really weird hallucination. Jack plucked weakly at Daniel's sleeve. "'S two...I owe ya."
Daniel swiped an unsteady hand across his eyes, smearing dirt and perspiration in grimy streaks. "Don't worry. I'm keeping track."
Jack's stomach cramped, spasms tying his gut into excruciating knots. He involuntarily curled into a ball, panting and groaning. Hands slid under his arms, pulling him against solid warmth, massaging, soothing.
Eventually the convulsions abated and he lay spent in Daniel's arms. Jack tipped his head up so he could look into his friend's haunted, bloodshot eyes.
"Go now...Daniel."
Daniel's laugh held a note of hysteria. "Sure, Jack. Shall we walk or jog?" When Jack's gaze didn't waver, anger crept in. "You stopped breathing for almost five minutes. You're in no shape--"
Jack dug his fingers into Daniel's thin tee shirt. "Time's up. Now...or never."
Daniel flinched as if Jack had slapped him. "I don't know if I can... I never saw that Jaffa, nearly got us killed--"
"Daniel."
"Jack, I don't know if I can do this!"
"Trust you." It came out a breathy whisper, not at all what he'd intended. Jack cleared his throat; tried again. "Trust you, Danny."
Something indefinable shifted in Daniel's expressive eyes. Panic receded, replaced by grim determination. He eased Jack off his lap and stood, shouldering his pack and Jack's weapon. When he bent down and took hold of Jack's arms, he mustered a smile.
"Let's go home."
No amount of preparation could counteract the torture of being hoisted yet again onto Daniel's shoulders. Jack grayed out for a while, only vaguely cognizant of Daniel's pained apology as they began moving. Awareness slowly returned, and with it the understanding that he wasn't the only one in distress. Daniel's rapid heartbeat, labored breathing, and faltering gait betrayed his exhaustion.
Daniel stumbled, the resulting shock wave jarring through his body and into Jack's. Jack bit down hard on his lip, stifling a groan. He was 200 pounds of dead weight, contributing nothing. The least he could do was keep silent.
He faded in and out, no longer perceiving the passage of time. He'd surface briefly to darkness and pain, Daniel's wheezing breaths and jarring footfalls, then slide back into oblivion. Over and over, the cycle repeated in a dreary, unending loop.
He was hovering somewhere between alert and unconscious when Daniel pulled up short, his entire body rigid, then ran.
Jack clutched at Daniel's back, fingers sliding over the damp tee shirt, grunts and groans ripped from his throat as every footfall spiked fire through his belly. Tremors vibrated through Daniel's muscles, and his friend's frantic gulps for air seemed deafening.
Daniel tripped, staggered, and crashed to his knees. Jack screamed as he hit the ground. Sparks flashed, obliterating his vision, and then everything turned black and silent.
Daniel's voice pulled him back. They were half-seated, half sprawled in the dirt. One of Daniel's arms was clamped uncomfortably across Jack's injured ribs; the other pointed a wavering P90 into the trees. Jack squinted through blurry eyes, heart sinking at the flicker of distant lights.
"Sorry, Jack...Tried...I...I tried."
He wanted to pat an arm or one of the legs protectively curled around him, but nothing would move. It took every ounce of his remaining strength for Jack to choke out a reply.
"Not...not your fault."
The lights bobbed closer, and now they could hear the snapping of twigs. Daniel extended the gun, shivering. He jerked, nearly dropping the weapon when Jack's radio crackled to life.
"Colonel O'Neill, do you read me? Please respond."
Oh, God. It was Carter and the cavalry. Jack's vision blurred again, this time with relief. Daniel dropped the gun, shivering harder as understanding set in. His voice shook so badly he could barely speak.
"Sam? Sam, it's D--daniel. We're ab--about 600 yards st--straight ahead of you. Oh God, Sam, h--hurry. Jack's hurt b--bad."
As if on cue, another round of cramps ripped through Jack's belly. His fingers dug into Daniel's flesh with enough force to bruise as every muscle in his body went rigid.
"Jack? Jack, hang on! You can't quit on me now--"
//Sorry, Danny.//
Jack let go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bright lights filtering past his closed eyelids, incessant, annoying beeps, scratchy sheet under his fingertips, and--oh, yeah, that godawful smell. Had to be the infirmary.
Jack cracked open one sticky eye, confirming his diagnosis. Yep, he was even lying in his customary bed--how pathetic was that? Home sweet home.
"Colonel?"
He shifted his gaze to the right and Carter swam into focus, seated in a chair pulled up beside his bed. Blonde hair rumpled and eyes shadowed, she looked as tired as Jack felt.
"Carter." It sounded and felt as if he were speaking around a throat full of cotton.
Carter reached for a plastic cup and spooned a few ice chips into Jack's mouth. He savored the cool wetness as they melted on his tongue. The pain, though still present, was muted--a low murmur rather than an angry roar. Drugs, he thought muzzily. Good drugs.
"How are you feeling, Sir?"
"How do I look like I'm feeling?"
Her lips twitched. "Better than when we found you."
And then it hit him. Daniel. Where was Daniel? Jack tried to bolt upright, regretting his impulsiveness when pain and monitors skyrocketed. He collapsed back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, panting.
"What's going on?" Fraiser's voice, sharp and businesslike. Fingers pried open his right eyelid and a penlight stabbed straight into his brain.
"Ow! God!" Jack batted the hands away, squinting at her.
"He just woke up a moment ago. We were talking and then all of a sudden he tried to sit up." Carter hovered at Fraiser's shoulder, her forehead lined with worry.
Fraiser arched an eyebrow. "Not one of your brighter moves, Colonel. You're barely eight hours out of surgery, you--"
"Daniel?"
Understanding replaced irritation. Fraiser took hold of the privacy curtain and tugged it back. Daniel was tucked into the adjoining bed, sleeping soundly. Jack's muscles uncoiled and he sank further into the mattress.
Teal'c, sitting vigil in a chair identical to Carter's, inclined his head. "It is good to see you regaining strength, O'Neill. We have been most concerned for you and Daniel Jackson."
"Good to see you, too, T. Thanks for saving our butts--again." He directed the words to Carter as well as the Jaffa, then turned his complete attention to the man in the bed.
Daniel slept on, oblivious to the activity around him. He was turned toward Jack, one hand curled beneath his chin, the other sporting an IV line that snaked into a bag of clear fluid. Face nearly as pale as the white bandage covering his temple, dark circles beneath his eyes, he looked young and frail. Certainly not capable of hauling a 200 pound dead weight through a forest while dodging Jaffa.
Jack tore his eyes away, focusing on Fraiser. "He okay?"
"Compared to you he's ready for a night on the town." When Jack didn't smile, she sobered. "He'll be fine. The concussion is mild and his head is hard--much like a certain Colonel we all know." When Jack pressed a hand to his chest with his best wide-eyed look of innocence, she chuckled. "I'm most concerned about the dehydration. It's undoubtedly what caused his collapse."
"Collapse?" He pinned Fraiser with a CO glare. "Back up, doc."
Sam jumped in. "We found you and Daniel about a click from the gate, Sir. You were unconscious--Daniel was terrified that you were dying. We rushed you back to the 'gate, double time. Teal'c carried you, but Daniel assured us he was fine, he could make it on his own. And, well, to be honest, Sir, the darkness prevented us from really seeing either one of you clearly enough to assess your conditions. We had no idea..." She pressed her lips together and looked away, blinking hard.
"Go on," Jack encouraged.
"Daniel kept pace with us the whole way, never complained or gave us any indication he'd been injured. When we hit the ramp and I saw..." She swallowed. "Daniel held it together until you were on a gurney, headed for the infirmary. Then he just...dropped. Scared the life out of all of us."
"Between the concussion, exhaustion, and severe dehydration, it's a miracle he made it that far," Fraiser murmured, slipping a thermometer between Jack's lips.
"The stubborn fool insisted on giving me all the water," Jack grumbled around the thermometer. "Wouldn't drink more than a few mouthfuls."
"That stubborn fool saved your life, Colonel. You sustained damage to your spleen, a slow, internal bleed. We caught it just in time--even so, you coded before we could get you into the O.R. If Dr. Jackson hadn't gotten you to us when he did..." She shook her head and pulled the wand from his mouth. "100.2. Not too bad. The antibiotics should knock back the infection soon enough."
Exhaustion, blood loss, and Fraiser's happy juice conspired against him. Jack fought the pull of sleep--he needed answers. "Why's he still out cold?"
Fraiser looked at Daniel, lips pursed. "He's not unconscious, Colonel; he's sedated. It was the only way I could treat him. When he woke up in that bed he was madder than hell. He wouldn't let any of my nurses touch him until you were out of surgery, and then we couldn't pry him out of that chair with a crowbar. I've made sure he won't wake up for another few hours. By then he should be rehydrated and able to move to a VIP room where I can keep an eye on him."
"Slipped him a mickey, huh, Doc?" Jack's grin turned into a yawn and his eyelids drooped.
"All in good cause. Now get some sleep, Colonel, or I'll be forced to give you one, too."
"Not necessary." Jack's eyes closed of their own accord. "Tired." He shifted, searching for a more comfortable position and grimacing at the corresponding ache in his belly.
"Sleep, Sir. You'll feel better when you wake up."
Was that Carter or Fraiser? He was still puzzling it out as he drifted off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Jack."
Busted. Jack took another pull from the bottle, musing that for a best friend Daniel could sound a helluva lot like a wife. Not deterred by his silence, Daniel stalked closer.
"Janet said no alcohol."
"Fine, Janet doesn't have to have any." Jack sighed, feeling like a jerk when he saw the grocery bags Daniel clutched in his arms. "One lousy beer, Daniel. It's not gonna kill me."
Crap. Poor choice of words. Daniel turned quickly toward the kitchen but not before Jack saw him wince. The beer, which had tasted so good going down, curdled in his stomach. In the kitchen, cupboards opened and closed; the refrigerator door shut with a rattling ka-thunk.
Daniel eventually wandered into the living room, the beer bottle in his hand betraying his state of mind. He sat in the chair across from the couch and took a long draught, evading Jack's eyes.
"Sorry." Jack was. He knew better than anyone how close he'd come to dying, and how deeply it had affected Daniel.
Daniel shrugged. "It's your stomach. Just don't blame me if--"
"I meant I'm sorry for that crack about it not killing me, not for drinking it. It tastes great."
Daniel looked at the bottle in his hands, picking at the label with his thumb. "I'm a linguist, Jack. I know a colloquialism when I hear one."
Silence stretched between them like a chasm. Jack took another swallow, watching his friend from the corner of his eye. Daniel had been quiet lately, and that made him uneasy. A quiet Daniel was a pensive Daniel, which--in Jack's experience--always signaled trouble.
Not that Jack *liked* talking all that feelings crap. Far from it. He much preferred the "bury it and pretend it never happened" method when dealing with post-traumatic stress. But words were Daniel's lifeblood, the way he processed the world around him. If he didn't talk about what happened on the planet, those emotions would fester, spreading like poison, and they'd lose him. Jack feared Daniel was halfway gone already.
"Hammond called while you were out. He mentioned he's looking into some kind of official commendation. He's determined you should be recognized for your conduct on P79-225, even if you are a civilian." Jack sipped his beer and watched.
Daniel had stiffened at his words, his grip on the bottle white-knuckled. "I don't need a medal for taking lives."
"How 'bout for saving mine?"
Daniel's eyes darted to his, and for the first time all afternoon he met Jack's gaze. "You're alive." He looked down at his shoes, mouth twitching. "I'm rewarded every time you whine about how bored you are."
"I do not whine." Jack put on his most aggrieved tone, inwardly pleased by the flicker of familiar banter. Lately humor had been in short supply.
"Jack, there's a reason Janet is always so quick to discharge you from the infirmary."
"You're referring to my incredible powers of recuperation?"
"Actually, I was speaking of the death threats."
Silence again, but this time the air between them felt lighter. Jack drained the last drops from his bottle and set it on the coffee table.
"Daniel, I wanted to say...uh--"
"I know, Jack."
"You do?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"What?"
"How do you know?"
"Well, because I would be, too...if you'd...you know."
"Yeah." Jack rubbed his chin. "Anyway, you did good. Real good."
Daniel hunched his shoulders, flushing a bit at the praise. "I did what anyone would have done." He abruptly stood and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with another beer.
Now they were getting somewhere. Jack waited until Daniel had settled back into his chair, then picked up where he'd left off.
"You're wrong, Daniel. I've seen veteran soldiers crack under less pressure. Fear of death can do strange things to a man, even if he thinks he's prepared for it."
"Guess they didn't understand there are worse things than dying."
"Really? Enlighten me." Jack kept his tone deceptively light.
"Being left behind." Daniel's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, considering all the practice, but guess what? It gets harder, not easier."
"I'm sorry, Danny. I wish I could promise it won't happen again, but we both know that would be a lie."
"I don't want to fail another person in my life, Jack."
"The only way you could do that would be by quitting. Daniel, in the four years I've known you, you've never backed away from a challenge. Don't start now."
When Daniel shook his head, Jack held up a finger. "Ah, ah! I'm not finished."
Daniel rolled his eyes but slumped back in the chair.
"Back on the planet, when...uh...I stopped breathing, I had some kind of...well...near death experience." Jack made a face but plunged ahead. "I know how crazy that sounds but--"
"Not really. Near death experiences have been well documented in many cultures--"
"I saw Charlie."
Probably the fastest he'd ever managed to shut Daniel up, Jack thought ruefully. His friend looked stricken, lips parted and eyes huge in his still-pale face. "I-I-I... I don't know what to say, Jack."
Jack shrugged, irritated when he felt a lump form in his throat. "Nothing to say. I thought we could hang out together, but he turned me down. Said something about my story not being done yet." He chuffed, blinking. "He always did have a mind of his own."
"Just like his dad." Daniel's eyes were so warm and sympathetic, Jack had to look away.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "He told me something before I left, said to share it with you."
"With me?"
Jack nodded, smiling a little at the bewilderment in his friend's voice. The smile faded and he sucked in a deep breath. "He said...he said that what happened to him wasn't my fault."
"It wasn't," Daniel agreed quietly.
Jack pinned him with a piercing stare. "He said to tell you that it doesn't have to be anyone's fault." He saw the implication sink in. Daniel's eyes welled and he quickly averted his face, but Jack went on. "What happened to Sha're was a nightmare, Daniel, but if you're honest with yourself you'll see there was no way you could have prevented it. If we'd've been there when Apophis came through the 'gate, we'd most likely have wound up dead--or snaked."
He gentled his tone. "You never gave up on her, Danny. You went to the ends of the universe to free her. Now, maybe you couldn't save her, but you did save her son. And if he's out there, like Sha're said, we *will* find him."
Daniel's head whipped around. "*We*, Jack?"
"You heard me."
Daniel nodded, a slight bob of his head, but Jack saw tension flow out of him. Satisfied, Jack clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back into the couch cushions, flinching when his gut protested. Damn stitches.
"So, what did ya get at the store? There wouldn't have been some triple fudge ice cream in those bags, would there?"
"You are determined to thumb your nose at every one of Janet's restrictions, aren't you?"
"Just the ones that don't make sense."
Daniel heaved a martyred sigh and stood. "There's vanilla." At Jack's dismayed expression he added, "And maybe a little chocolate syrup."
Jack grinned. "Now you're talking, Dannyboy." When Daniel turned toward the kitchen, he leaned forward. "Daniel?"
"Jack, I'm not letting you have nuts, so you can just..." Daniel trailed off when he saw Jack's face. "What?"
"I know you're not where you thought you'd be. But is where you are so damn bad?"
Daniel ducked his head, lips curved. "I guess almost losing something can make you appreciate it in a whole new way."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
Jack settled back and waited for his ice cream. He needed to have a chat with Hammond. Daniel was going to be just fine.
End
When you are a soldier, I will be your shield
I will go with you into the battlefield
And when the arrows start to fly
Take my hand and hold on tight
'Cause I will be your shield when you are a soldier
When you're tired from running, I will cheer you on
Look beside you and you'll see you're not alone
And when all of your strength is gone
I'll carry you until you're strong
And I will be your shield when you are a soldier
And I will be the one that you can cry your songs to
And my eyes will share your tears
And when you are surrounded, the enemy is closing in
I will fight with you to the end
When you're lost in darkness, I will hold the light
And I will help you find your way through the night
I'll remind you of the truth, and keep the flame alive in you
And will be your shield when you are a soldier
Soldier -- Steven Curtis Chapman