Chapter 2
Jack was watching him again, and doing a damn poor job of hiding it.
Daniel swished his chopsticks through rice and vegetables, spreading them across the plate to disguise how little he'd actually consumed. Not that he really expected Jack to fall for such a trick. For a moment he envisioned his friend in father mode, sternly insisting that Charlie stop playing with his food and start eating it. A pang of sorrow immediately followed, softening Daniel's irritation.
"I wouldn't quit my day job, if I were you."
"What?"
Jack gestured to Daniel's plate. "You're an archeologist, not an artist. And while perhaps impressionistic, that sure as hell ain't art."
"I told you I wasn't hungry."
"Yeah, I seem to recall hearing that somewhere."
Daniel shoved back his chair and stood, his anger ratcheting up a notch when despite his best efforts a hiss of pain slipped out. Snatching up his plate he hopped to the sink, flipped on the tap, and grabbed the dish detergent. He stared at the soapy water as it filled the sink, his thoughts a million miles away.
He hurt. Everywhere. Leg, abdomen, ribs, and every one of those damn burns on his chest and back. His gaze wandered to the little amber bottle sitting on the counter. Darvocet--Janet wouldn't take no for an answer when he'd tried leaving them behind. He licked his lips. Just one little capsule would make it all go away for a while...
"You will tell me what I want to know." Trapped. Hot. Dark. "I'm going to skin you alive." Pain. Fear. "I told you what would happen if you ignored me." Struggling. Powerless. "Don't bother screaming; no one will hear you." Can't get out. Can't breathe. Alone. Oh, God. Someone. Anyone. Help?
Hands on his arms. Big. Strong. Grabbing. Squeezing. No!
Daniel rammed both elbows backward, spun on his heel, and swung his fist with all his might. He connected with solid flesh, vaguely registering a breathless grunt before fiery agony blazed through his leg and it folded beneath him, tumbling him to the floor.
"Ah, God...! Damn it, Daniel, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
Jack's voice, muffled and strained, filtered through Daniel's haze of pain. He pushed himself upright until he could lean back against the cabinet, clutching his thigh with both hands. Jack was similarly propped against a table leg, one hand cradling his face. Glaring at Daniel, he leaned over and spat blood onto the tile.
Daniel fought against a wave of nausea, his eyes skittering from the blood to the already purpling swelling along Jack's jawline. "Wh...what happened?"
"What happened? You decked me, that's what happened!"
"That's...that's crazy, Jack, I wouldn't..." Daniel trailed off, slowly lifting his right hand, gaping at the torn and swollen knuckles.
"You were saying?"
His whole body turned ice cold while his head felt as if it might float away. Warm fingers touched the back of his neck, guiding his head down between his knees.
"Relax, Daniel. Take deep breaths."
"S-sorry. I'm sorry, Jack." He could barely force the apology past chattering teeth.
"Just shut up and breathe." Harsh words spoken in the gentlest of tones.
Daniel shut his eyes and went with it, too rattled to protest. After several minutes the shivering diminished to occasional tremors and he cautiously lifted his head.
Jack peered into his eyes, brow furrowed. "You okay?"
Daniel nodded, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. "You?"
"Hey, I'm a big, tough, Special Ops colonel and you're just a geeky archeologist. What do you think?"
"Hurts, huh?"
"Like a sonuvabitch."
He smiled but it slid quickly off his face. "I really am sorry, Jack. I don't know--"
"I do. You had a flashback, Daniel."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"No, I... No." Daniel shook his head. "You're wrong, Jack. It was...I just got confused for a minute, that's all."
Jack snorted. "Daniel, I've known you, what, eight years now? I've seen you confused and--correct me if I'm wrong--you don't normally come out swinging."
Daniel opened his mouth for an argument but snapped it shut when he couldn't think of one. He tried to stand up, biting back a moan when his leg burst into flames. Well, that's how it felt, anyway.
The pain must have shown on his face. Jack stabbed a finger at his chest, growled "Stay put," and disappeared. Daniel heard a cupboard open and shut, water run, and then the soft click of pills shaken from their bottle. A hand appeared under his chin.
Daniel looked at the little pink capsule and curled his lip. "Jack, I don't want--"
"Don't give me that shit, Daniel. You turned white as a sheet just now. I'm not having you pass out on me when I haul you off the floor."
Some of his previous irritation tried to surface, but after a look at Jack's bruised jaw, Daniel swallowed the pill. Jack disposed of the glass and joined him back on the floor, this time sitting beside him. They were silent for a time--long enough for the drug to blunt the needle-sharp teeth gnawing at Daniel's leg. When Jack finally spoke, his voice was soft.
"You can talk to me about this, Daniel. It's not like I won't get it."
Daniel's mouth went dry. "Iraq?"
"Sara never knew from one minute to the next what might set me off. Flashbacks during the day, nightmares all night. She finally took Charlie and went to stay with her dad. It knocked some sense into me. Made me realize losing them was way scarier than dealing with what happened."
The pain had faded to a low hum and all his limbs felt pleasantly loose and heavy. Daniel tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "I just want to forget. Is that too much to ask?"
"Hell no. As far as I'm concerned you can bury it, lock it up and throw away the key. But I'll tell you a secret, Daniel, and it's the damnedest thing. You've got to take it out and look at it first. Otherwise there won't be a hole deep enough or a box strong enough to keep it from creeping back. And you'll never be rid of it, kiddo. Voice of experience here."
"You can hear your own ribs break--didya know that, Jack?"
Silence, and then Jack's tight voice. "Yeah. Actually, I did."
Daniel could feel Jack looking at him but his eyes decided they preferred to remain closed. "I couldn't decide what was worse--having 'em beat the hell out of you or waiting for your turn to have them beat the hell out of you. Tied up in that cramped, filthy little shack, so hot, no air, you could barely breathe, and dark, so dark at night...." He shivered, indescribably comforted when Jack shifted closer so their shoulders touched.
"Then they brought out the jumper cables and suddenly having them beat the hell out of you didn't seem so bad. I was so scared, Jack." Daniel pried open his eyes and squinted at Jack's still, white-lipped face. "Guess it was a good thing they wouldn't give us any water. Probably would've pissed myself. Some soldier."
Jack's fingers clamped onto his chin, startling him. "You are a damn fine soldier, Daniel. I'm proud to have you on my team, watching my six. Never believe otherwise." He released his grip and a little of the fierceness left his tone. "I've seen career military break under that kind of interrogation. You did good."
Daniel's sigh turned into a jaw-cracking yawn. In the back of his mind a little voice was telling him he should feel mortified for using Jack's shoulder as a pillow, but he was just too tired to listen. "Thought I'd forgotten...the hurt...the helplessness. Was so long ago." Forming words was getting harder. "Guess you were right, Jack. Came creeping back."
He heard Jack's voice from a great distance, but the words made no sense. Yadda, he thought, lips curving, and sank into sleep.
Jack shut the bedroom door and, after a moment's hesitation, headed into the living room. He collected the cordless phone and sank into the couch cushions, grunting when his overtaxed muscles twanged a painful protest. Hauling a drugged archeologist to his bedroom and pouring him into bed was definitely a job for a younger man. With better knees.
Exhaustion, an empty stomach, and Doc Fraiser's magic pill had turned Daniel into a boneless, incoherent lump who'd appeared perfectly willing to spend the night on his kitchen floor. Now that he was safely tucked away in his bedroom, dead to the world, Jack could make his phone call without fear of being overheard.
He paused, thumb poised over the keypad. He was about to commit a clear violation of Daniel's privacy. An act that his friend was unlikely to thank him for. One that could conceivably drive a wedge between the two of them, just when they were getting this friendship thing back on track. Jack sighed.
He had no choice.
It took several minutes for his call to ricochet down to the correct lab. The phone rang five times, and he was ready to hang up when a breathless voice answered.
"Major Carter--this better be damn important."
Jack's eyebrows soared. "As a matter fact, it is."
"Colonel?" Embarrassment colored her tone and he could just imagine her cheeks turning pink.
"Got it in one."
"I'm sorry, sir, it's just that I'm in the middle of some further testing on the armor from the supersoldier we captured. It's really quite fascinating, I discovered--"
"TMI, Carter, TMI."
"Sir?"
"Too much information. Sorry to interrupt your fun, but I need a favor."
"Of course, Colonel. What is it?"
"Hold on a minute. Before you say yes there are a few things you should know."
"Okay." He heard puzzlement in her tone, but she waited for him to continue.
"First, this is strictly unofficial. I'm not asking this as Colonel O'Neill. I'm asking as Jack."
A long silence. "All right...Jack."
He cleared his throat. "Okay. So the other thing is that what I'm asking isn't exactly...uh...legal."
"Sir?"
"I need you to dig up Daniel's records from the time he was fostered."
Another, longer silence. "I'd need to know why."
He'd expected this, but he still fumbled for the right words. "I need to know if there were any...incidents with any of his foster parents."
"You're losing me, sir. Incidents?"
Jack closed his eyes and hung onto his temper. Blurting "I need to know if anyone beat the shit out of him" would not be a good choice. "I'm trying to find out if he was ever mistreated, Major."
"Child abuse?" She sounded stunned.
"Yes."
"Why--?"
"I can't answer that, Carter. You're gonna have to trust me when I say that I wouldn't pry into Daniel's past if I didn't think it was absolutely necessary."
Jack waited. As much as he needed Carter's help, he recognized the enormity of what he was asking. He wouldn't push her on this one.
"I had dinner with Janet tonight."
What in the hell did that have to do with the price of tea in China? "That's...nice."
"She's worried about Daniel. She thinks something's bothering him, something more complicated than just aftershocks from the kidnapping."
Sometimes it was hell having a 2IC too smart for her own good. Or his. Jack remained pointedly silent.
Carter sighed. "I'll poke around, see what I can find out."
Some of the weight lifted from his shoulders. "Thanks, Carter. I owe you."
"I'm not promising anything, sir. Those are confidential records and they may have security too tight for my...capabilities."
"Understood. You can reach me at Daniel's. Just...don't tell him why you're calling."
"I'll let you know as soon as I find anything." Her voice softened. "Is he okay?"
Jack's eyes automatically drifted to the bedroom. His answer sounded more like a vow. "He will be."
You can take the colonel out of Special Ops, but you can't take the Special Ops out of the colonel. Jack came fully awake with all senses on alert. He took inventory, searching for the source of whatever had disturbed his slumber. The catlike pad of bare feet followed by a creaky floorboard gave him his answer. Throwing off the blanket, he stood and navigated his way to Daniel's bedroom without turning on a light.
The house was still, but Daniel's door stood ajar. Jack stuck his head inside, noting the crutches lying at the foot of the empty bed. "Daniel?"
A soft thud drew him back into the living room. Moonlight spilled through the windows, illuminating several books, once piled on an end table but now scattered on the floor. Jack bent over to pick them up, when he heard the front door rattle and then a soft, frustrated sob.
"Daniel?"
He squinted at the shadowy figure standing in the foyer. Daniel had wrapped both hands around the knob and was frantically twisting and pulling. As Jack moved closer, he heard a continuous string of incoherent whispers and sobs.
"...kharagny men hena, ana sowfa akoun kewayes, I'll be good, I promise, men fadlak, too hot, can't breathe, kharagny men hena, I'll be good, men fadlak ..."
"Daniel?"
Daniel didn't react to Jack's soft call, just went on twisting and pulling, muttering and sobbing. Jack felt a quiver of unease. Daniel's eyes were wide open, tears trickling down his cheeks, yet they weren't seeing. He tugged and jiggled the brass knob but completely ignored the dead bolt that held the door firmly shut. As Jack watched, Daniel brought both fists up and pounded on the door. Pressing his forehead to the smooth wood, he uttered a low, broken wail that raised gooseflesh on Jack's arms.
"Damn it, Daniel! Wake up!" Jack seized his friend by the shoulders and spun him around.
Daniel stiffened, then blinked. "Jack?" He looked around, his fingers clutching Jack's tee shirt. "Where.... H...how did I...?"
"Come here." Jack helped an alarmingly passive Daniel limp over to the couch.
Though the house was cool, Daniel's face was flushed, his tee shirt damp with sweat. Jack settled him on the cushions, then darted into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, he pressed it into Daniel's limp hand. The water sloshed wildly when Daniel raised it to his lips but he drank greedily.
Jack paced back and forth for a moment, then shoved aside several artifacts and sat on the coffee table, his folded hands dangling between his knees. "You mind telling me what the hell that was about?"
Daniel looked at him with shadowed eyes. "I would if I could, Jack."
Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching for patience. He was lousy in these situations, and he knew it. Somehow his fear inevitably twisted into irritation. The bewilderment in Daniel's face warned him to tread lightly.
"Okay, let's try this. What's your last clear memory?"
Daniel frowned, deepening the lines around his eyes and mouth. "Well, I ...sitting on the kitchen floor." His gaze dropped to Jack's jaw and then slid away. "Guess I fell asleep. Sorry."
"You can make it up to my knees later. What else?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
Daniel picked at the water bottle's label. "You wanted clear memories. Nothing else is clear."
Jack huffed. "For cryin' out loud, Daniel. Then tell me what you remember that's not clear."
Daniel chewed on his lip, long fingers peeling off bits of paper label that drifted to the floor. "Just sensations, really. Heat. Darkness. Like I was...I don't know...trapped." He finally looked up at Jack. "Obviously a nightmare. I'm not the best sleeper, Jack. Sometimes I have bad dreams--you should know that by now."
"Yeah, but you took this one on the road. You were sleepwalking, Daniel. You'd made it all the way to the front door."
Daniel wrinkled his nose. "That's funny. I had a problem with sleepwalking for a while, but that was years ago. I was just a little kid." His voice trailed off and his eyes lost focus, as if he were looking inward.
"How little?" Jack pitched his voice low and unobtrusive.
"Nine or ten, I think. It was after my parents died. What...um...what was I doing?"
Jack rescued the partially filled water bottle when it threatened to slip, unnoticed from Daniel's fingers. His friend immediately curled his arms around his middle.
"You were trying to open the door, but you didn't release the deadbolt. You just kept rattling the knob and...uh...crying."
"Crying?" Daniel touched his cheek where Jack could still see faint tear tracks.
"Yeah. In English and in Arabic. You kept asking to be let out, promising you'd be good."
All the color drained from Daniel's face.
"Daniel?"
Daniel didn't respond, just stared through him. Jack could see the quick rise and fall of his chest. He reached a steadying hand toward Daniel's knee.
"Daniel, what's wrong?"
Daniel surprised him by first flinching and then knocking aside his hand. He scrambled awkwardly to his feet. "Nothing. I...I'm really tired, Jack. I think I'll try to get some more sleep."
Jack stood, blocking his way to the bedroom. "Tired? Is that why you look like you just saw a ghost?" He leaned in closer. "That's pretty close to the mark, isn't it? You did see a ghost."
In the blink of an eye, Daniel went from shell-shocked to furious. "This conversation is over, Jack. Now are you going to let me go around you, or do I have to go through you?"
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. In Daniel's current condition Bill Lee could've knocked him on his ass. One look at his friend's outthrust lip and rigid posture, however, convinced Jack that resistance was futile. Holding up both hands, he stepped aside.
"This conversation may be over, Daniel, but the subject's far from closed. We will talk again."
Jack was pretty sure he heard a muttered "when hell freezes over" before Daniel shut the bedroom door. The click of the lock engaging echoed loudly in the abrupt silence.
Concluded in Chapter 3