Part 2
"Almost there," Fraiser says in a low, soothing voice. Daniel eyes her mistrustfully and huddles closer to me. We're riding a rolling gurney down the halls of the SGC, me sitting cross-legged with Daniel firmly in my lap. He's leaning back against me, his arms holding mine in place, wrapped around his middle. Every so often he arches his neck and rubs his cheek along the line of my jaw, murmuring happily.
We made sure to clear the halls first before going on this little trip.
"Easy, Daniel," Carter says from beside us, her hand wrapped around Daniel's upper arm. He smiles up at her, pathetically grateful for any word of reassurance.
We decided on this after it became clear that Daniel wasn't going to go back to his infirmary bed alone. Not without being unconscious, that is, and Fraiser was reluctant to give him drugs in his weakened state. Having one of us by his bed holding his hand wasn't good enough, either--he had to be held. Constantly, tightly, and preferably by all three of us at once.
Just disentangling him from Carter and Teal'c was quite a job, and I'm pretty sure he only allowed it because I never once let go of him, and because he was too exhausted to fight any more. He let himself be deposited on his bed, but only on the condition that I go with him. It would have been fine if those beds were built for two, but they're barely big enough for one. Not to mention the rather public location didn't exactly lend itself to blatant cuddling, no matter how medically necessary it was.
Hence, the rolling trip to a VIP suite. Fraiser wasn't thrilled about releasing him from the infirmary, but as long as he keeps getting IV fluids and manages to eat something within the next twenty-four hours, she grudgingly gave in. I think she realizes that his mental health needs a lot more work than his physical condition.
"We have arrived, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c intones, holding the door open for us. He squeezes Daniel's shoulder as we go past, and gets a wide smile for his efforts.
"All right, Daniel," Fraiser says briskly once we're in the room. "Time for you to get some sleep."
He just looks at her warily and presses his back against my chest. I can feel the hard knobs of his spine, the lines of his ribs, the bony wings of his shoulder blades. God, Daniel.
This is the tricky part. He's trembling with exhaustion in my arms, but getting him from the gurney to the bed requires a complicated procedure that we're just now beginning to work out.
"Here, Daniel," Carter says, standing close beside him and holding her arms open. "Come here... it's okay, right here, there you go..."
She keeps up the soothing litany of words, and Daniel leans forward, his fingers digging into my arms to pull me with him. I shift until I can unfold my legs, and then we turn together until Daniel is standing and I'm sitting behind him, plastered against his back, my arms still tight around his waist.
"Okay," Carter says, slipping her hands between my chest and his back and pulling him close. I move with them, and soon we're shuffling toward the big bed in an awkward kind of three person dance, Daniel wrapped snugly between us. He's giving out these pleased, tired little moans and nuzzling Carter's shoulder, his hands kneading at my forearms.
With some slow, careful shifting, we manage to get Daniel laid out on the bed, me beside him. He whines like a scared dog when Carter lets go of him and immediately burrows against me, clutching at my back and rubbing his cheek against my collarbone over and over.
"Wow," Carter says dazedly.
"Yeah," I mutter. "This may take a little longer than I thought."
Fraiser nods, pushing the IV pole closer. "His physical recovery alone will take weeks. I can't begin to guess about his emotional state." She begins reattaching the tubes to Daniel's arms, where the IV catheters are still in place. Daniel makes a complaining mumble when she tries to pry his hand away from my back for a moment, but he's used up all his strength and she manages to get him hooked up.
"Now what?" I ask her. It's amazing how difficult it is to feel professional and in charge when you're curled in bed with a shivering archeologist cuddled to your chest.
"Now, he sleeps." She gives us all a stern look. "You should all sleep. I know you've been running yourselves ragged while he was missing. Let him sleep himself out, and if he asks for food or water, let me know. Water he can have in small, careful amounts, but I'll have a specific diet plan to follow for food."
"You believe Daniel Jackson will ask for food or water?" Teal'c asks, raising the ubiquitous eyebrow.
"He doesn't seem to have any problem articulating his needs."
"His need for contact, yes," Carter argues. "He's pretty clear about that. I'm not sure he'll ask for anything else."
"We'll have to offer it," I say. "Make sure he knows that he can have whatever he needs, without having to worry about..."
"Punishment," Teal'c supplies.
"Yes." Thanks, Teal'c. Lovely mental image.
"Sounds good." Fraiser scrubs her hands together and looks around the room. There's a second bed that I assume Carter will be using, and Teal'c can do his Kel-no-reem thing anywhere. The place has a large bathroom with a shower big enough for two--good thing I don't have a problem showering with Daniel--and a table and chairs. It's not the Hilton, but it sure beats the infirmary.
Teal'c sits down at the foot of the bed, his legs folded together, and regards us with half-lidded eyes. Carter hovers uncertainly, eyeing the spare bed and then frowning at Daniel. I'm sure Daniel would love for her to climb in with us--the more people holding him the better, as far as he's concerned--but there just isn't room. Not if we want to have any chance of sleeping comfortably.
"I'll be back to check on you later," Fraiser says, and strokes her hand over Daniel's back one last time. He mumbles sleepily but doesn't flinch away this time, and she looks pleased. Then she's out the door, and it's only us, tired and worn and worried, but whole again.
"Good night, sir." Carter perches on the edge of the bed and lets her hip rest against the small of Daniel's back. He makes a pleased 'mmm' noise and she smiles.
"Night, Carter," I reply, already closing my eyes. Daniel feels wrong in my arms, too thin and fragile, his hair fuzz instead of silk, but it's still Daniel. I'm going to sleep better than I have in weeks.
Carter gets into the spare bed and lays down facing us. Her eyes are watchful on Daniel's back, her hands twisting anxiously in the covers. Later on, I'll let her hold him for a while, because we all need that reassurance, but for now, he's mine. My Daniel.
"Daniel?" I murmur in his ear. "Sleeping?"
"Jackjackjack good good don't let go good," he mumbles back, snuffling in the hollow of my neck.
I could get used to this.
~~~
"Come on, Daniel. Don't you want to eat something? Here you go..." Carter waves the spoonful of applesauce enticingly, and takes a nibble herself. "See? It's good. Here, take a bite."
Daniel is tense in my arms, his eyes tracking the spoon, his mouth half- open. So far this morning we've managed to get him showered, which was more complicated than I thought it would be, and he's dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt instead of his hospital gown. It sounds easy in theory, but think about it. Have you ever tried to shower and get dressed while remaining in constant, close contact with someone? It was like a weird party game where nobody had fun. I ended up doing a tag-team deal with Teal'c, sort of passing him back and forth, and sometimes sharing him between us. I never thought I'd be trying to squeeze myself into a shower with Daniel and Teal'c. He seemed happy with getting clean and wearing more regular clothes, but he's balking on the food thing.
"Let me try," Fraiser says, moving up behind Carter.
"Okay." Carter drops the spoon back in the bowl and slides off the end of the bed, sighing heavily. I'm sitting up against the headboard with Daniel between my legs, his back leaning against me and his arms holding mine firmly in place around his middle. He watches Carter move away and frowns, raising one hand toward her for a second, and then clamping it back down on my wrist.
"Come here, Carter. Maybe he'll feel safe enough to eat if we're both with him."
I scoot and she squeezes, and pretty soon we've got our archeologist wrapped between us on the bed. I'm halfway to falling off one side, and Carter's legs are hiked up in a way that has to be uncomfortable, but Daniel loves it. His eyes are half-lidded, his head tilted back, and he's damn near purring.
"Good?" I ask.
"Yes yes good don't let go good..."
"Okay." It's best to cut him off before he gets going, because he can mumble like that for a long time. He was really into that 'yes good' chant in the shower, but I think it had more to do with being really clean than it did with being naked with me. He didn't seem interested in that at all.
Yeah, and he probably won't be interested for a while, O'Neill. You heard what Guthman said. Raped, many times. He may never be interested in sex again.
That's... that's not something I want to think about right now. He's acting almost like a child anyway, which makes it impossible for me to think about him that way.
"Okay, Daniel," Fraiser says, leaning in close. "I want you to take a bite of this applesauce." She's going for the firm, authoritative approach, and Daniel seems to react better to that. He opens his mouth obediently, like a baby in a high chair, and Fraiser slips the spoon in.
"Mmm!" he says, licking his lips. "Good yes good thank you thank you."
Carter and I exchange a grin over his head. Fraiser just holds the spoon out, for him to take it and feed himself. "Here," she says. "Take all you want."
Daniel tenses between us, his hands clenching on my arms. He looks back and forth at us with wide, pleading eyes. "Jack?" he asks uncertainly. "Sam? Eat?"
"Yes, you can eat," I tell him. "All you want, like the doc says. Need to put some meat on those bones, Daniel, you're looking a little peaky." Which is the understatement of the year.
Daniel purses his lips and stares at the spoon that Fraiser is still patiently holding out. He lifts one hand a fraction, and then hunches his shoulders and claps it back down.
"He's afraid to let go, Doc."
"I know that, Colonel. But eventually he's going to have to learn how to let go, and we have to start somewhere."
"He hasn't even been back a whole day yet."
"The longer we wait to teach him to be independent again, the longer it will take." Fraiser has her hands on her hips, her jaw set as she stares me down. I simply glance sideways and refer her to Daniel's soft, begging look. Not even the doc can refuse that one.
"Just one hand," she wheedles. "I'll hold the bowl for you, Daniel. All you need is one hand free."
He leans back and forth on the bed, pressing against Carter and I, and kneading with his hands. "Won't let go?" he asks plaintively. "You'll hold on?"
"You bet we will, Danny."
He blinks slowly, studying my face. "Promise?"
Carter makes a choked little noise and Daniel whips his head around to stare at her worriedly. She does her best to put on a smile for him. "We promise, Daniel." Then she borrows Fraiser's technique and gives him a stern look. "Now be good and eat your food. We'll be right here."
Daniel's face clears and he nods easily, reaching out for the spoon. Janet hands it over and holds the bowl up, and Daniel starts scooping in applesauce like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. His other hand stays tight on my wrist, though, and he never breaks contact with either of us.
"Slow down," Fraiser says, drawing the bowl back a little.
"Sorry," Daniel mumbles. He lets the spoon slip from his fingers and cringes back against us, hiding his face against my shoulder. I can feel his mouth moving through my shirt, more muffled apologies.
Fraiser sighs and picks up the spoon. "Daniel. It's okay... see? Here, you can have it back. I just didn't want you to get sick. I don't know how long it's been since you had solid food, and you could shock your stomach eating that fast."
"Okay?" he asks. "Eat? Okay?" He's peeking at her with one eye, half his face still pressed into my shoulder.
"Yes. Eat, okay, go ahead. Just a little slower, all right? Nobody is going to take it away from you. You have all the time you want."
Daniel eyes her dubiously, but Carter and I nudge him forward and make the right encouraging sounds, and he manages to start eating again. He watches the doc as he takes slow, measured bites.
"Why is he so thin anyway?" Carter asks, absently stroking his remaining hair.
"Um, just a guess, but they didn't feed him?"
Fraiser rolls her eyes at me. "That's true, Colonel, but I think Sam is asking why the sarcophagus didn't heal the malnutrition the same way it healed the more... dramatic damage."
"You mean that little being dead thing," I say.
"Yes, that." Fraiser puts down the empty bowl and offers Daniel some toast, which he snatches eagerly. He wolfs down half a slice and then winces and eyes her warily. She gives him a reassuring smile and he manages a little smile back, but I notice he finishes the slice with tiny bird bites.
"I guess even a sarcophagus has limits," Carter muses.
"The technology cannot create matter where there was none," Teal'c suddenly chips in, and we all turn to stare at him. Sometimes it's easy to forget he's there when he's doing his statue routine.
"So the loss of blood and muscle mass and all that..."
"Couldn't be replaced," Fraiser finishes for me. "That's why he needed a transfusion and a large amount of IV fluids when he got back. His skin has lost several surface layers over his whole body, his hair was extremely thin and brittle and even his bones have been weakened. It's like the sarcophagus stole tissues from all nonessential places to replace what was needed to keep him alive."
Daniel is peering at the empty tray that held his food, his brow furrowed. "Eat?"
"Sorry, Daniel, but that's all for now. I understand that you're probably still hungry, but your body hasn't had to process nutrition the normal way for a while, and you need to ease back into it slowly."
I'm not sure he understands that. He's doing well, all things considered, but he's still speaking in those one-word sentences and I get the feeling he's not really with us. Not all of him, anyway. The part we have is just a bundle of emotion and basic needs.
I'm really hoping the bigger part, the part that is Daniel's intelligence and spirit and everything that makes him who he is--I'm hoping that's not gone permanently. Just locked away somewhere for protection, not destroyed. I really hope that.
Fraiser pulls out her usual props--blood pressure cuff, thermometer, syringe, and that ubiquitous little penlight--and approaches Daniel purposefully. He tenses and tries to hide behind us.
"Daniel," she says patiently, "you've done very well so far. I'm glad that you were able to eat and that you've kept it down. I just need to check you out a little, and then we'll be done."
"Done," he echoes. "Won't hurt?"
"It won't hurt. Not even the blood draw, because I'll use your IV line."
He nods slowly and offers his arm like a kid putting on a brave front for his shots. Fraiser smiles broadly and gets busy with her stuff.
"After this," I say to Carter over Daniel's head, "we need to do something about his beard. It's coming in and scratching the hell out of my neck whenever he... ah..." Crap. Can't talk about Daniel nuzzling me to my 2IC, even if it was entirely innocent. This time.
"I know, sir."
Of course she does.
"I will assist you, O'Neill," Teal'c offers.
"Good deal. We'll do a team effort kind of thing. You two hold him and I'll do the shaving."
"Okay," Fraiser says briskly, pulling back with a test tube of Daniel's blood in her hot little hands. "That should about do it. I'll be back in a couple hours to recheck him and I'll be bringing more food."
"Is he improving?" Carter asks.
Fraiser nods and runs her eyes down the chart on the table. "His vitals are all stronger, although still a bit low. I'll have to wait on the lab results on the blood before I can make a determination there."
"What about..." I wave a hand vaguely, and then point my thumb and forefinger out like a gun. "You know, the sarcophagus thing."
"I'm not sure," she replies soberly. "If he was going to show signs of withdrawal, we should have seen them by now. It may be that because he was always... severely hurt when he was placed inside, it's not addictive."
"Perhaps the intensity of his mental conditioning is overcoming any withdrawal symptoms that might exist," Teal'c says.
"Could be," Fraiser allows. "Either way, it can only be a good thing that he's not addicted this time. He has enough to deal with as it is."
"That's for sure," I mutter. Although we're talking about him as if he isn't in the room, Daniel doesn't seem to care. He's got his head laid back against me, his eyes half-closed, and he keeps rubbing his jaw against my chest and neck. Really need to do something about that stubble. There are far more pleasant ways to get whisker burn.
Fraiser pauses at the door and gives us all a formidable look. "Make sure you take breaks and stay with him in shifts. He's going to require intensive, round-the-clock care for quite some time, and if you don't trade off, you'll all get burned out."
"You got it, doc," I say, knowing full well that none of us will be leaving him anytime soon.
Then she's gone, and we all watch Daniel for a long moment, just enjoying the steady rise and fall of his chest. He's got a small curl of a smile on his lips, and his eyes are dark and sleepy.
"So," I say when the moment threatens to become sappy. "Shaving. Should be simple, right?"
You'd think so, wouldn't you?
~~~
"Almost there," Fraiser says in a low, soothing voice. Daniel eyes her mistrustfully and huddles closer to me. We're riding a rolling gurney down the halls of the SGC, me sitting cross-legged with Daniel firmly in my lap. He's leaning back against me, his arms holding mine in place, wrapped around his middle. Every so often he arches his neck and rubs his cheek along the line of my jaw, murmuring happily.
We made sure to clear the halls first before going on this little trip.
"Easy, Daniel," Carter says from beside us, her hand wrapped around Daniel's upper arm. He smiles up at her, pathetically grateful for any word of reassurance.
We decided on this after it became clear that Daniel wasn't going to go back to his infirmary bed alone. Not without being unconscious, that is, and Fraiser was reluctant to give him drugs in his weakened state. Having one of us by his bed holding his hand wasn't good enough, either--he had to be held. Constantly, tightly, and preferably by all three of us at once.
Just disentangling him from Carter and Teal'c was quite a job, and I'm pretty sure he only allowed it because I never once let go of him, and because he was too exhausted to fight any more. He let himself be deposited on his bed, but only on the condition that I go with him. It would have been fine if those beds were built for two, but they're barely big enough for one. Not to mention the rather public location didn't exactly lend itself to blatant cuddling, no matter how medically necessary it was.
Hence, the rolling trip to a VIP suite. Fraiser wasn't thrilled about releasing him from the infirmary, but as long as he keeps getting IV fluids and manages to eat something within the next twenty-four hours, she grudgingly gave in. I think she realizes that his mental health needs a lot more work than his physical condition.
"We have arrived, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c intones, holding the door open for us. He squeezes Daniel's shoulder as we go past, and gets a wide smile for his efforts.
"All right, Daniel," Fraiser says briskly once we're in the room. "Time for you to get some sleep."
He just looks at her warily and presses his back against my chest. I can feel the hard knobs of his spine, the lines of his ribs, the bony wings of his shoulder blades. God, Daniel.
This is the tricky part. He's trembling with exhaustion in my arms, but getting him from the gurney to the bed requires a complicated procedure that we're just now beginning to work out.
"Here, Daniel," Carter says, standing close beside him and holding her arms open. "Come here... it's okay, right here, there you go..."
She keeps up the soothing litany of words, and Daniel leans forward, his fingers digging into my arms to pull me with him. I shift until I can unfold my legs, and then we turn together until Daniel is standing and I'm sitting behind him, plastered against his back, my arms still tight around his waist.
"Okay," Carter says, slipping her hands between my chest and his back and pulling him close. I move with them, and soon we're shuffling toward the big bed in an awkward kind of three person dance, Daniel wrapped snugly between us. He's giving out these pleased, tired little moans and nuzzling Carter's shoulder, his hands kneading at my forearms.
With some slow, careful shifting, we manage to get Daniel laid out on the bed, me beside him. He whines like a scared dog when Carter lets go of him and immediately burrows against me, clutching at my back and rubbing his cheek against my collarbone over and over.
"Wow," Carter says dazedly.
"Yeah," I mutter. "This may take a little longer than I thought."
Fraiser nods, pushing the IV pole closer. "His physical recovery alone will take weeks. I can't begin to guess about his emotional state." She begins reattaching the tubes to Daniel's arms, where the IV catheters are still in place. Daniel makes a complaining mumble when she tries to pry his hand away from my back for a moment, but he's used up all his strength and she manages to get him hooked up.
"Now what?" I ask her. It's amazing how difficult it is to feel professional and in charge when you're curled in bed with a shivering archeologist cuddled to your chest.
"Now, he sleeps." She gives us all a stern look. "You should all sleep. I know you've been running yourselves ragged while he was missing. Let him sleep himself out, and if he asks for food or water, let me know. Water he can have in small, careful amounts, but I'll have a specific diet plan to follow for food."
"You believe Daniel Jackson will ask for food or water?" Teal'c asks, raising the ubiquitous eyebrow.
"He doesn't seem to have any problem articulating his needs."
"His need for contact, yes," Carter argues. "He's pretty clear about that. I'm not sure he'll ask for anything else."
"We'll have to offer it," I say. "Make sure he knows that he can have whatever he needs, without having to worry about..."
"Punishment," Teal'c supplies.
"Yes." Thanks, Teal'c. Lovely mental image.
"Sounds good." Fraiser scrubs her hands together and looks around the room. There's a second bed that I assume Carter will be using, and Teal'c can do his Kel-no-reem thing anywhere. The place has a large bathroom with a shower big enough for two--good thing I don't have a problem showering with Daniel--and a table and chairs. It's not the Hilton, but it sure beats the infirmary.
Teal'c sits down at the foot of the bed, his legs folded together, and regards us with half-lidded eyes. Carter hovers uncertainly, eyeing the spare bed and then frowning at Daniel. I'm sure Daniel would love for her to climb in with us--the more people holding him the better, as far as he's concerned--but there just isn't room. Not if we want to have any chance of sleeping comfortably.
"I'll be back to check on you later," Fraiser says, and strokes her hand over Daniel's back one last time. He mumbles sleepily but doesn't flinch away this time, and she looks pleased. Then she's out the door, and it's only us, tired and worn and worried, but whole again.
"Good night, sir." Carter perches on the edge of the bed and lets her hip rest against the small of Daniel's back. He makes a pleased 'mmm' noise and she smiles.
"Night, Carter," I reply, already closing my eyes. Daniel feels wrong in my arms, too thin and fragile, his hair fuzz instead of silk, but it's still Daniel. I'm going to sleep better than I have in weeks.
Carter gets into the spare bed and lays down facing us. Her eyes are watchful on Daniel's back, her hands twisting anxiously in the covers. Later on, I'll let her hold him for a while, because we all need that reassurance, but for now, he's mine. My Daniel.
"Daniel?" I murmur in his ear. "Sleeping?"
"Jackjackjack good good don't let go good," he mumbles back, snuffling in the hollow of my neck.
I could get used to this.
~~~
"Come on, Daniel. Don't you want to eat something? Here you go..." Carter waves the spoonful of applesauce enticingly, and takes a nibble herself. "See? It's good. Here, take a bite."
Daniel is tense in my arms, his eyes tracking the spoon, his mouth half- open. So far this morning we've managed to get him showered, which was more complicated than I thought it would be, and he's dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt instead of his hospital gown. It sounds easy in theory, but think about it. Have you ever tried to shower and get dressed while remaining in constant, close contact with someone? It was like a weird party game where nobody had fun. I ended up doing a tag-team deal with Teal'c, sort of passing him back and forth, and sometimes sharing him between us. I never thought I'd be trying to squeeze myself into a shower with Daniel and Teal'c. He seemed happy with getting clean and wearing more regular clothes, but he's balking on the food thing.
"Let me try," Fraiser says, moving up behind Carter.
"Okay." Carter drops the spoon back in the bowl and slides off the end of the bed, sighing heavily. I'm sitting up against the headboard with Daniel between my legs, his back leaning against me and his arms holding mine firmly in place around his middle. He watches Carter move away and frowns, raising one hand toward her for a second, and then clamping it back down on my wrist.
"Come here, Carter. Maybe he'll feel safe enough to eat if we're both with him."
I scoot and she squeezes, and pretty soon we've got our archeologist wrapped between us on the bed. I'm halfway to falling off one side, and Carter's legs are hiked up in a way that has to be uncomfortable, but Daniel loves it. His eyes are half-lidded, his head tilted back, and he's damn near purring.
"Good?" I ask.
"Yes yes good don't let go good..."
"Okay." It's best to cut him off before he gets going, because he can mumble like that for a long time. He was really into that 'yes good' chant in the shower, but I think it had more to do with being really clean than it did with being naked with me. He didn't seem interested in that at all.
Yeah, and he probably won't be interested for a while, O'Neill. You heard what Guthman said. Raped, many times. He may never be interested in sex again.
That's... that's not something I want to think about right now. He's acting almost like a child anyway, which makes it impossible for me to think about him that way.
"Okay, Daniel," Fraiser says, leaning in close. "I want you to take a bite of this applesauce." She's going for the firm, authoritative approach, and Daniel seems to react better to that. He opens his mouth obediently, like a baby in a high chair, and Fraiser slips the spoon in.
"Mmm!" he says, licking his lips. "Good yes good thank you thank you."
Carter and I exchange a grin over his head. Fraiser just holds the spoon out, for him to take it and feed himself. "Here," she says. "Take all you want."
Daniel tenses between us, his hands clenching on my arms. He looks back and forth at us with wide, pleading eyes. "Jack?" he asks uncertainly. "Sam? Eat?"
"Yes, you can eat," I tell him. "All you want, like the doc says. Need to put some meat on those bones, Daniel, you're looking a little peaky." Which is the understatement of the year.
Daniel purses his lips and stares at the spoon that Fraiser is still patiently holding out. He lifts one hand a fraction, and then hunches his shoulders and claps it back down.
"He's afraid to let go, Doc."
"I know that, Colonel. But eventually he's going to have to learn how to let go, and we have to start somewhere."
"He hasn't even been back a whole day yet."
"The longer we wait to teach him to be independent again, the longer it will take." Fraiser has her hands on her hips, her jaw set as she stares me down. I simply glance sideways and refer her to Daniel's soft, begging look. Not even the doc can refuse that one.
"Just one hand," she wheedles. "I'll hold the bowl for you, Daniel. All you need is one hand free."
He leans back and forth on the bed, pressing against Carter and I, and kneading with his hands. "Won't let go?" he asks plaintively. "You'll hold on?"
"You bet we will, Danny."
He blinks slowly, studying my face. "Promise?"
Carter makes a choked little noise and Daniel whips his head around to stare at her worriedly. She does her best to put on a smile for him. "We promise, Daniel." Then she borrows Fraiser's technique and gives him a stern look. "Now be good and eat your food. We'll be right here."
Daniel's face clears and he nods easily, reaching out for the spoon. Janet hands it over and holds the bowl up, and Daniel starts scooping in applesauce like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. His other hand stays tight on my wrist, though, and he never breaks contact with either of us.
"Slow down," Fraiser says, drawing the bowl back a little.
"Sorry," Daniel mumbles. He lets the spoon slip from his fingers and cringes back against us, hiding his face against my shoulder. I can feel his mouth moving through my shirt, more muffled apologies.
Fraiser sighs and picks up the spoon. "Daniel. It's okay... see? Here, you can have it back. I just didn't want you to get sick. I don't know how long it's been since you had solid food, and you could shock your stomach eating that fast."
"Okay?" he asks. "Eat? Okay?" He's peeking at her with one eye, half his face still pressed into my shoulder.
"Yes. Eat, okay, go ahead. Just a little slower, all right? Nobody is going to take it away from you. You have all the time you want."
Daniel eyes her dubiously, but Carter and I nudge him forward and make the right encouraging sounds, and he manages to start eating again. He watches the doc as he takes slow, measured bites.
"Why is he so thin anyway?" Carter asks, absently stroking his remaining hair.
"Um, just a guess, but they didn't feed him?"
Fraiser rolls her eyes at me. "That's true, Colonel, but I think Sam is asking why the sarcophagus didn't heal the malnutrition the same way it healed the more... dramatic damage."
"You mean that little being dead thing," I say.
"Yes, that." Fraiser puts down the empty bowl and offers Daniel some toast, which he snatches eagerly. He wolfs down half a slice and then winces and eyes her warily. She gives him a reassuring smile and he manages a little smile back, but I notice he finishes the slice with tiny bird bites.
"I guess even a sarcophagus has limits," Carter muses.
"The technology cannot create matter where there was none," Teal'c suddenly chips in, and we all turn to stare at him. Sometimes it's easy to forget he's there when he's doing his statue routine.
"So the loss of blood and muscle mass and all that..."
"Couldn't be replaced," Fraiser finishes for me. "That's why he needed a transfusion and a large amount of IV fluids when he got back. His skin has lost several surface layers over his whole body, his hair was extremely thin and brittle and even his bones have been weakened. It's like the sarcophagus stole tissues from all nonessential places to replace what was needed to keep him alive."
Daniel is peering at the empty tray that held his food, his brow furrowed. "Eat?"
"Sorry, Daniel, but that's all for now. I understand that you're probably still hungry, but your body hasn't had to process nutrition the normal way for a while, and you need to ease back into it slowly."
I'm not sure he understands that. He's doing well, all things considered, but he's still speaking in those one-word sentences and I get the feeling he's not really with us. Not all of him, anyway. The part we have is just a bundle of emotion and basic needs.
I'm really hoping the bigger part, the part that is Daniel's intelligence and spirit and everything that makes him who he is--I'm hoping that's not gone permanently. Just locked away somewhere for protection, not destroyed. I really hope that.
Fraiser pulls out her usual props--blood pressure cuff, thermometer, syringe, and that ubiquitous little penlight--and approaches Daniel purposefully. He tenses and tries to hide behind us.
"Daniel," she says patiently, "you've done very well so far. I'm glad that you were able to eat and that you've kept it down. I just need to check you out a little, and then we'll be done."
"Done," he echoes. "Won't hurt?"
"It won't hurt. Not even the blood draw, because I'll use your IV line."
He nods slowly and offers his arm like a kid putting on a brave front for his shots. Fraiser smiles broadly and gets busy with her stuff.
"After this," I say to Carter over Daniel's head, "we need to do something about his beard. It's coming in and scratching the hell out of my neck whenever he... ah..." Crap. Can't talk about Daniel nuzzling me to my 2IC, even if it was entirely innocent. This time.
"I know, sir."
Of course she does.
"I will assist you, O'Neill," Teal'c offers.
"Good deal. We'll do a team effort kind of thing. You two hold him and I'll do the shaving."
"Okay," Fraiser says briskly, pulling back with a test tube of Daniel's blood in her hot little hands. "That should about do it. I'll be back in a couple hours to recheck him and I'll be bringing more food."
"Is he improving?" Carter asks.
Fraiser nods and runs her eyes down the chart on the table. "His vitals are all stronger, although still a bit low. I'll have to wait on the lab results on the blood before I can make a determination there."
"What about..." I wave a hand vaguely, and then point my thumb and forefinger out like a gun. "You know, the sarcophagus thing."
"I'm not sure," she replies soberly. "If he was going to show signs of withdrawal, we should have seen them by now. It may be that because he was always... severely hurt when he was placed inside, it's not addictive."
"Perhaps the intensity of his mental conditioning is overcoming any withdrawal symptoms that might exist," Teal'c says.
"Could be," Fraiser allows. "Either way, it can only be a good thing that he's not addicted this time. He has enough to deal with as it is."
"That's for sure," I mutter. Although we're talking about him as if he isn't in the room, Daniel doesn't seem to care. He's got his head laid back against me, his eyes half-closed, and he keeps rubbing his jaw against my chest and neck. Really need to do something about that stubble. There are far more pleasant ways to get whisker burn.
Fraiser pauses at the door and gives us all a formidable look. "Make sure you take breaks and stay with him in shifts. He's going to require intensive, round-the-clock care for quite some time, and if you don't trade off, you'll all get burned out."
"You got it, doc," I say, knowing full well that none of us will be leaving him anytime soon.
Then she's gone, and we all watch Daniel for a long moment, just enjoying the steady rise and fall of his chest. He's got a small curl of a smile on his lips, and his eyes are dark and sleepy.
"So," I say when the moment threatens to become sappy. "Shaving. Should be simple, right?"
You'd think so, wouldn't you?
~~~