Chapter 8

Raphaella couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts chasing each other around in her head to sleep. Her family. Her job. Baram. Her lost friends. Her current friends.

Daniel.

It was that last one that really frustrated her. She could tell just by watching him that he wasn't any happier than she was. If only she could reach out and feel his emotions, then maybe she could understand why he was treating her as if she were just a casual acquaintance. Maybe talking to Sam or Janet might help. After all, they'd known him much longer. The decision to talk to one of her friends made, she finally fell asleep.

She was awakened about two hours later to a screaming baby. She bolted into his room to find him thrashing about in his blankets. She picked him up and he stiffened, almost throwing himself out of her arms. She stripped him to see if something was poking him and she found a large angry welt on his thigh. When she touched it she found it hard and hot. Insect bite? She laid him back in his crib and went into the kitchen to get ice, hoping that would reduce the swelling and pain, but when she tried to touch him he just stiffened more and screamed so much she was afraid he would stop breathing.

Raphaella was just reaching for her son when she heard an insistent knock at her front door. Probably a neighbor not happy about the noise. Hurrying to the door she looked through the peephole to see Daniel, who wasn't looking too well himself. She turned away from the door hoping he'd leave. When he continued knocking and began loudly calling her name, she knew she'd have to let him in or the neighbors would be calling the police to stop the noise.

As she opened the door Daniel stumbled in, barely catching himself from falling flat on his face. He giggled, "Your floor tried to trip me."

"Daniel, I do not have time for this right now. Let me call Jack to drive you home." Raphaella turned to the phone to call.

Daniel staggered between her and the phone. "Oh, don't call Jack. He wouldn't be happy with Danny-boy just now. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Daniel, I am trying to deal with a sick baby now. Go away!"

Raphaella turned away from him to go to Baram.

"That's right! Leave me like everyone else. I knew you would!" Daniel sank down onto the floor and dropping his head down onto his knees while Raphaella went to take care of Baram.

In Baram's room she found him whimpering and thrashing about in the blankets. She reached down and placed both hands on his head. With her mind she entered his and began taking his pain into herself. She reached in further through his small body and began pulling the poison out of his body.

Daniel had finally gotten himself up off the floor and tottered off in search of Raphaella. He found her bent over Baram in his crib apparently in deep thought.

"You messing with his head too? Like you did with mine? Was it fun for you digging in my brain? God, I can't believe I trusted you."

Raphaella tried to block Daniel out while she continued to heal the baby.

"Nobody pays any attention to me. Jack still treats me like a little kid who can't take care of himself. Doesn't listen when I tell him about stuff. Sha're's gone. Parents are gone. Nick didn't want me. I'm alone. Always alone." Daniel dropped into the rocking chair. "Oh, boy! Ground's moving."

Baram finally calmed down, the redness and swelling almost gone. She ran her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair until he slept.

Raphaella turned to find Daniel softly snoring in the chair. What else can go wrong tonight?

She went into the living room and called Jack to come get Daniel. She was exhausted from lack of sleep, healing the baby, and nerves from Daniel's little show. Jack showed up to drag Daniel off.

"I'm sorry, Raphaella. When Teal'c and I caught up with him tonight we went out for a couple of beers to talk. He did apologize to Teal'c for his behavior here tonight, but he won't open up. He's walled himself off from all of us, Raphaella, and I don't know how to get through. He's been through so much in his life, but I thought he was stronger than this. Daniel doesn't handle alcohol well, but he's usually a happy drunk. Gets silly." Jack leaned over, tossed his passed-out friend over his shoulder and headed out the door. "Go back and get some sleep. I'll take care of sleeping beauty here."

XXXXXXXXXX

Pain! Oh, head! Where am I? This doesn't feel like my bed.

Daniel experimentally opened one eye, only to snap it shut when bright light threatened his very existence. Gasping for breath and trying to decide if the urgent need to use the bathroom was worth the certain death from pain, Daniel tentatively opened one eye again. He survived, so he tried the other eye. Oh, boy! Too much. Closing his eyes again, he counted slowly to ten. He groped for the edge of the bed with one hand while attempting to keep his head from falling off with the other. As soon as he found the edge he rolled slowly over toward the edge, slid his feet off, and slithered to the floor onto his knees, his head still resting on the bed.

Jack, hearing moans emanating from his guestroom, grinned and opened the door to find his best friend kneeling on the floor, gripping the bed as if it were a life raft.

"Morning, Danny. A bit hung-over, are we?"

"Jack, just point me to the bathroom and let me die in peace. No. Wait. Make coffee. Lots of coffee."

Snickering softly, Jack reached down and hauled Daniel up to his feet. Noticing the green tinge to his face, he quickly dragged his friend to the nearest bathroom and deposited him on the floor in front of the toilet. Flipping up the lid, Jack pointed Daniel's head in the right direction just in time.

After several minutes, Jack got a cool, wet washcloth and wiped Daniel's face. "Better?"

"Only death will help. Or coffee." The thought of putting something in his stomach caused more dry heaving. "OK. Not moving is the goal of the day."

Jack began striping the clothes off the prone man. "Jack, I'm really not in the mood," Daniel groaned as he grasped at his pants in a futile attempt to retain some semblance of dignity.

Jack chortled and reached to turn on the shower – cold. Lifting a now naked Daniel off the floor, Jack dumped him onto the shower floor. "When you freeze your ass off, you can stand up and make it hot. I'll get you some clothes. Come down when you're done."

Thirty minutes later, a decidedly wretched Daniel appeared in Jack's kitchen, groping about for the pot of coffee and a mug. Gripping the mug with both hands, he brought it up to his face, inhaling the rich aroma before taking his first life-giving sip. He relaxed against the edge of the counter, the coffee reviving him.

Jack brought him a large bottle of water and a couple of aspirin. "Here drink this down when you finish the coffee. Ah! No arguments. That's an order." Jack waved his finger in Daniel's face when he began to protest.

Daniel downed the tablets quickly with the coffee and headed for the couch. Dropping gratefully into the welcoming cushions, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Aware that Jack had followed him, he asked, "How big an ass did I make of myself last night? I have vague memories of doors slamming, screaming babies, and a very hard floor."

"You did a pretty good job. You went back to Raphaella's about midnight and scared the crap out of her. Daniel, what on God's earth were you thinking?"

"I wasn't. God, Jack. I don't know what's wrong with me." Daniel sat up straight, dragging his hand down over his face. Have to find my glasses. "It's like I've got a big hole inside and I'm feeling a lot like I did when Sha're was first taken. Frantic, panicky, just … empty. I guess drinking didn't help. Now I just feel sick."

"Drinking just makes bartenders rich. Danny, you really haven't been acting like yourself since the incident with the mel'c. Maybe you need to see MacKenzie."

"Oh, god, no! He'll just stick me back into a padded room again."

"How about a fishing trip?"

"Jack, that's your answer for everything. I feel like I need to be searching for something, but I don't know what for."

"Seriously, Daniel, I think talking to someone might be what you need."

"I'm talking to you, Jack."

"Hell, you know I'm no good with the touchy-feely stuff. How about talking to Frasier? She's might know what you could do next."

"Maybe. First, I just need to survive today."

A/N: Writing a hung over Daniel was fun! Hope you all enjoyed this.