Chapter 11
Even with a brain injury, Daniel still didn't follow orders.
Last night, Jack had told him to go to sleep. This morning, Jack told him to go to sleep. Now, sitting in his truck, speeding down the highway to make it to the cabin, Jack told him to go to sleep.
"No," Daniel said defiantly, refusing to look at Jack.
"What is it with you and sleep?" Jack asked, purely out of frustration. "It's not a hard thing to do."
"No."
"You know, I think I liked you better when you weren't talking," Jack muttered.
He heard Daniel snort and mumble something unintelligible, before amusing himself by tapping on the glass. Tap, tap, tap…
The sound was annoying the hell out of him. Every single time they got into the truck, Daniel would settle in his seat, and start rapping on the glass. Jack swore he was doing it on purpose, both to irritate Jack, and also to keep himself awake.
If he'd just go to sleep, Daniel might lose the edge.
Jack frowned, mulling over that thought as he continued to head down the highway. Come to think of it, since this all began, Jack hadn't recalled seeing Daniel sleep once. Jack had been spending time with Daniel for a month now, and every visit Daniel was awake. He might not have been lucid, or aware of his surroundings at times, but he'd never been asleep. When Teal'c came for a visit, he was faking his state, playing a game. The car ride, the hotel room…Hell, Jack wasn't even sure if Daniel had been sleeping when he'd first had that outburst.
That just was not normal.
Jack slowed the truck, taking a moment to glance over at Daniel. "Do you ever sleep?"
Daniel just shrugged, turning his head back to the window to rap on the glass again. And again. And again.
"Can you please stop doing that?" Jack asked, shaking his head. "I'm trying to concentrate on the road."
"No."
Jack swore, and decided to just ignore Daniel the rest of the way. When they finally arrived at the cabin, Jack would set him straight and force him to rest for a while.
Satisfied with himself, Jack blocked out Daniel's incessant tapping, and stared ahead to the road and the country. He'd been driving hours on end, only stopping for a few breaks along the way. Since Daniel was otherwise occupied, he figured they could make better time without having to pause at every rest stop just so that Daniel could appreciate the view.
They would make good time, Jack decided. They had left well before dawn, and the roads were practically barren, even at this time of the day. Most of the trip was now behind them, having already traveled half the distance yesterday. Jack was running on little sleep, and felt his knees cramping from being in the same position for so long, but it didn't matter. Once they got to the cabin, he could stretch out and relax, hopefully convincing Daniel to do the same.
So, he kept driving. The trees blurred into streaks of green and brown as the truck whizzed past them. Hypnotic, Jack thought for a moment he might drift, lost in the dizzy patterns of color.
Colors that just bled into each other.
The trees blurred into a streak of faded greens and rusty browns, sharply dividing the earth from gray blue sky.
Jack's boots pounded onto the ground, falling into perfect rhythm with his short raspy breaths. He pushed hard, darting forward, running in a zigzag pattern, avoiding fallen limbs, overturned trees, and the twisted thorny growth that tangled itself on the bed of the forest.
They were coming. It wouldn't be long now.
Not willing for this to be his last official act, Jack drew upon his reserves of energy, tucking his P-90 to his chest, and charged forward. He was a bullet, slicing through the air, focused on what was in front of him.
Nothing else mattered.
Keep running, he told himself.
And he did. He pressed his body beyond its limits. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but he was still in good shape. He wouldn't be beaten.
Grunting, Jack dodged an energy blast, and kept moving. He heard the shouts behind him now, heard them getting closer.
He pushed; he forced himself to keep moving. The pain flared in his knees, but that was of little importance. He heard, he felt, the enemy behind him, closing in on them with every step, with every breath.
Jack shuddered to think what would happen if they caught them.
The staff blast exploded somewhere near his head, nearly knocking him off balance. But he would not be swayed.
He ran. He ran harder, ignoring the enemy close behind him, concentrating closely on running. Running, and Daniel's back.
He was a good distance ahead of Jack, his green fatigues just a streak of color in the muted forest. He wouldn't let the younger man out of his sights, and despite the fact Daniel was so far ahead him, he knew that he was tracking Jack as well.
But they would make it. They would reach the Gate. They always did.
Jack's hopes crashed when he realized Daniel was running towards him, quickly closing the distance between them. That could only mean that the enemy had circled around them, and had cut off their hope at escape.
Damn.
Jack slowed his pace, knowing they didn't have much time. The soldiers would be on them momentarily. Then…
Cursing over the thought, Jack met Daniel, and they did a stiff turn to the left, pushing deeper into the forest. This was their last option, and the only tactical move Jack had left. He was betting on Carter and Teal'c to make it through the Gate, get some back-up, and sweep this place. He hadn't wanted to involve himself in a war, but dammit, he wasn't about to let Daniel die again.
That's when he heard the sound. That's when he knew it was over.
Jack swore, his eyes flashing open, as an intense pain ripped through his right side. Cringing, Jack clutched the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and his hands went numb. He'd blacked out? Struggling to control his sight, to gain the upper hand on reality, Jack concentrated hard.
He couldn't. The pain…
Angry, he jerked his head to Daniel, the cause of his pain, hissing at him to stop digging his hands into his side. Daniel didn't stop. Daniel's hands pressed harder.
"Daniel!"
The other man wouldn't relent. In fact, his eyes grew wide, his body trembling as he stared out the windshield.
At the large semi heading straight for them.
"Shit!" Jack swore, jerking the wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with the tractor-trailer. His truck bounced and swerved, sliding along the pavement as he struggled to regain control. He felt the suspension straining, the wheels spinning, as they quickly careened off the road. The grass helped to dampen his speed, and finally, Jack hit the brakes, confident they wouldn't roll over.
As the truck came to a slow stop, thankfully missing the trees and the barrier, Jack released the breath he'd been holding. He wasn't sure if he should be more concerned over his latest flashback, or the fact he'd had it on the road.
He seemed to be spiraling more and more out of control.
"It's okay," he told Daniel while trying to calm himself. "We're okay."
When Daniel didn't answer, Jack turned to study the younger man, searching for any signs of distress. He was hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, almost as if he was struggling to keep himself together.
Jack threw away such a morbid thought, and reached over to place his hand on Daniel's shoulder. He jerked, and wailed out, slapping one of his hands against the passenger side window in response.
"Hey, let me see," Jack told him, inching a little closer.
Daniel sucked in a deep breath, the air whistling through his clenched teeth. As he fought the pain, he brought his hand back, streaking it against the glass with a slick whine.
Jack stared at the smears of blood left in his fingers' wake.
Feeling his stomach bottom out, Jack tore off his seatbelt and slid next to Daniel. He grabbed the protesting man's hand, turning it over in his grasp. The entire palm was blood soaked, the blood having already crusted and dried under Daniel's fingernails. Quickly, Jack began to search Daniel's body for any signs of trauma, any cuts and gashes, anything that would explain the blood all over his hands.
He couldn't find anything. Where the hell was he bleeding?
"Hold still," he told him. Daniel squirmed, panting hard, trying desperately to move away from Jack. "Come on, Daniel."
He smelled of blood. His whole body.
Jack blocked out the stench, concentrating solely on Daniel. He seemed fine, and there was nothing to indicate Daniel had any injuries. No open wounds. Nothing. There were only a few drops of blood spattered here and there on Daniel's shirt and jeans, and then there were the stains on Jack's shirt where Daniel had gnarled his fingers into the fabric.
The blood had to come from somewhere.
Daniel dropped to his knees. Blood flowed like a river.
Jack jumped; Daniel's low moan brought him back to the present. Shaking, Jack willed himself to focus on their situation, and stop himself from obsessing on stuff that did or did not happen ten years ago. It wouldn't do them any good.
"What happened, Daniel?" Jack asked him, grabbing a handkerchief out of Daniel's pocket. He started to wipe away as much of the blood as he could. "What's this?"
"I'm dirty," Daniel said, his voice breaking.
"Okay, yeah, your hand…"
"All done!" Daniel said, almost shouting, as he stared into nothing. "All done!"
Jack watched Daniel make his declaration to the air while he still tried to hold him. Daniel had begun to pant hard, rocking his head back onto the headrest, muttering incoherently under his breath. Jack touched his forehead again, swearing and bringing back his hand to hold Daniel in place.
He was on fire.
"All done," Daniel whispered. "Too late."
"What, Daniel? What?" Jack asked, beyond frustrated.
"I'm dirty," he said again, now staring at his hand. He snorted, and gave a half-hearted laugh, nothing like the wheezing laugh that Jack had heard over the past few weeks. "Dirty," he repeated, laughing a little harder.
He was started to freak out Jack. Tapping him lightly, Jack hoped to bring Daniel back from his growing madness.
Daniel continued to laugh, harder and more hysterically. "Blood," he told Jack, holding up his hand. "Blood flows like a river."
Jack froze, not sure if he'd heard Daniel right. He couldn't…There was no way.
"What?" he asked him. "What did you say?"
But Daniel was gone again, having drifted off into some other place. He stared vacantly out the window, into the forest and the trees that lined the highway.
Reluctantly, Jack returned to the driver's seat, and strapped both he and Daniel back into their seats. While he was still concerned over Daniel and this whole incident, he thought it would be best to get to the cabin as soon as possible. If Teal'c and Carter were right…Jack was dangerous. He couldn't even trust himself behind the wheel.
Now, not only was he having flashbacks, and a few bizarre dreams, he was hallucinating. What if Daniel wasn't really bleeding? What if he had an open wound and Jack couldn't tell? What if Daniel had never started talking? What if none of this was real?
This went beyond the disjointed images he'd seen of Daniel in his house and in the hotel room. This was insanity.
Thank God the cabin was only about thirty miles away.
Quietly, Jack started up the engine, and focused on nothing but the road, trying not to think a single thought. He couldn't let anything distract him, nothing at all. Though, as he started back down the road, he couldn't help but hear Daniel call out for Carter again. He sighed and closed off his mind, wondering one last time if maybe Daniel was right.
Maybe it was too late.
