Jack sat at the campfire, a rare feeling of age and melancholy weighing on him. The damage was bad, he reflected. Daniel had been so hurt - by all of them. But Jack most of all. Jack's eyes turned to the individual in question. He was lying midway between the academics, on one side of the fire, and the military, on the other - completely ignoring both groups.
He was sprawled in the coarse crabgrass, his journal lying open in front of him. From where he was sitting, Jack could see that the page was blank - not even dated, from what he could tell.
Jack glanced at the academics. Ziv, Louie and Michelle had returned late that afternoon, in time for supper. The other NID agent was in the hospital ICU, with various tubes stuck in his body. He wasn't going anywhere without the proper medical treatment, and in Jack's opinion the NID was welcome to him. Even so, it wasn't likely that they'd take him back after his screw-up in Ein Gedi.
The mood was pensive. SG-1 were all focused on Daniel, trying not to look as if they were excessively concerned. The teachers were openly worried. Daniel had been worn out and withdrawn ever since he and Jack had walked back to the dig in midmorning. He was rubbing his temples often, and moving stiffly. Jack remembered that it was only the night before that he'd fought off the NID single handed, and had the bruises to show for it. He remembered with guilt tackling Daniel, and the exhausting talk they'd had. He still wasn't sure of what to do. He'd pulled, rather than pushed at Daniel, and the archaeologist had splintered regardless, the inner barriers against the intensity of his own emotion pulled down, leaving him at the mercy of the full force of his pain.
But Jack had the unhappy feeling that they'd only begun to delve into Daniel's complicated emotions. He'd been hit by the full force of his friends' - his family's betrayal today. But so much more had happened to him this year. The death of Sha'uri most prominently, in Jack's mind.
Daniel sighed softly, the tiny noise almost lost amid the crackling of logs and a sudden shower of sparks tossed into the air by the fire. Jack found himself looking at the young archaeologist, and noticed Mac looking as well. Daniel stood slowly, bid everyone a quiet good-night, and disappeared into the darkness, moving toward his tent. Tobe quickly excused himself and followed.
Jack moved over to where Daniel had been lying. To his muted surprise, Mac joined him.
"What happened today?" The Scotsman was unusually subdued.
Jack knew the feeling. "Daniel and I - talked. A lot of things were said that should have been said a long time ago."
"I figured something like that," Mac said quietly. "It's the ones you love that can hurt you the most. The lad's nursing a powerful hurt."
Love? Jack pondered the word. Yes, he realized with some shock. That was the only word that could describe it. Daniel loved them, from the core of his very being. And Jack realized with a little wonder that he loved Daniel as well, the tie binding them closer than ever before.
"He was hurting when he came here," the professor continued. With the firelight dancing over his face and his wild hair frizzed out by the humidity, he looked like an ancient soothsayer. "He was always sad, even when he was happy. It runs deep, and I think there's more hurt there than you're responsible for," Mac said observantly. His green eyes, focused on the flames, were sharp with insight. "Not that you haven't done your share. But I think this healing will be a long time in coming."
"For Daniel's sake, I hope not," Sam murmured. She'd been listening to their conversation for the past few minutes.
Mac glanced at her. "He told us something of how he came here."
Sam winced. "Our actions forced him into a situation he should never have been in," she said. "He did everything he could to avoid the -"
"The killing," Jack interrupted, not sparing anyone, including himself, from the truth. "We started a chain of events that led to him having to chose someone else's life over ours. Someone he knew, and empathized with. Daniel killed him."
Mac's eyes narrowed. "He said something about having to chose. Nothing about killing per se."
Jack sighed. "I was certain we were all going to die. But he fought - I haven't asked him yet about when, and how he learned. The time just hasn't been right."
"No wonder he's hurting," Mac murmured. "He couldn't even stomach pretending to be a heartless bastard just to intimidate that killer tied up in the tent over there." Mac waved a hand vaguely toward the dig. Jack said softly, "Yea, he was sick after we interrogated the prisoner this morning."
Mac turned sharp eyes on Jack. "Maybe you see what everything has cost him now."
Jack flared defensively. "I've seen him endure things you wouldn't believe, given the chance. I've seen him fall apart, and I've been there to help him put the pieces back together. Don't you lecture me about what this has cost him!" Jack threw up his hands in frustration.
"Then tell me, Colonel," Mac said, "when did you stop being his friend? Stop helping him put himself back together? Because the man sleeping in that tent isn't broken, but he's damn close!"
Jack sat back. "I never stopped being his friend. But I - I thought I knew what was best for him, and I screwed up."
Mac thought for a moment. "No kidding," he said pensively. "But I'm not about to let you do it again. We all know where good intentions lead," he finished darkly.
Tobe's quiet return broke the somber quietude. "He's sleeping," Tobe said to Mac's inquiring look.
"He has a concussion," Galya interrupted. "We woke him every hour last night. Do we have to do that again?" It had made a miserable night for everyone, Daniel not least of all.
"No," said Sam. "He needs his rest, and he was up all day with the regular headache when by rights he should have been taking it easy. There's no danger of him slipping into a coma."
"Are you a doctor or something?" asked Louie, intrigued.
Sam snorted. "No. But we have a lot of field experience."
"I take it that injuries are common in your line of work, then," said Galya. Her face was inscrutable.
"You have no idea," Jack murmured, conscious of the archaeologist gently prying for more information. "All right, then. Carter, first watch?" She nodded. "Murray, you want the dawn shift?" Teal'c bowed his head slightly. "That leaves me on graveyard rotation," Jack said cheerfully. "Let's get some sleep, campers."
He stood up and Sam walked with him to the chopper. "No doubt these people are worried for Daniel and mean well," Jack said in a low voice as they moved to the chopper. "But they have questions we can't answer. Don't let their attitude fool you - there are some clever people here. I wouldn't want to try to put one over on Mac." Jack gave a false shudder.
Sam made a snorting, choked noise.
"O'Neill," said Teal'c. His posture was stiff. "I believe that you conversed at length with Daniel Jackson today."
Jack sobered immediately. "Yes," he said simply. "I followed him when he left the tent after he interrogated the NID agent."
"I found his behavior during the questioning most disturbing," Teal'c said slowly.
"I would never have though Daniel could do something like that," Sam agreed, sadness coloring the words.
"He threw up," Jack admitted. "I went with him to get a drink of water. Daniel thinks that the artifact the NID has is just a distraction. And there might be a member of the NID in the SGC."
"Not again," Carter muttered. "What else?"
Jack shrugged. He really didn't want to disclose what happened next, so he decided to skate along the truth and hope Carter was perceptive enough not to pry. "I apologized. He didn't take it well. We - talked, a bit."
"Ah." Carter nodded. By this time they had reached the chopper, and Carter pulled out her MP-5. "I'm going to walk the perimeter."
Jack and Teal'c nodded, and started to bunk down in the chopper itself, more as a failsafe against NID sabotage or theft than for comfort.
"Goodnight sir, Teal'c."
"Goodnight, Carter."
"I wish you an uneventful watch, Major Carter."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A second gift for you, seeing as how it's 1:32 am, and I'm only now able to log in. Technical difficulties, indeed. I'm also pseudo-apologizing for my absence, and thanking my faithful reviewers, at least two of which were devastated by the delay. (puppy eyes beg for forgiveness) On the upside, dealing with rodents, bugs, and the great outdoors deciding to come indoors inspired me to have serious bonding time with my laptop's annoying "WordPerfect" program, which is anything but. Translation - I had hit a snag that I was hesitant to mention, but now have it straightened out! (4 days with only "Solitaire" for company will do that to you . . . )