Janet felt absolutely drained. In the month since Daniel's disappearance, she had hardly slept at all on any given night, and it was starting to take its toll. She could barely even concentrate on her work anymore.
She noticed that the remaining members of SG-1 weren't faring much better. Colonel O'Neill seemed to always be a million miles away, even while she was having a conversation with him. Teal'c was even quieter than usual, and Sam kept herself locked away in her lab most of them time, trying to figure out what had happened to make Daniel vanish like that. Thus far, she'd had no luck.
They'd brought the device back from the planet, but as far as anyone could tell, it was just a lump of rock. They'd been reluctant to break it open, but routine scans had shown little of interest inside it anyway. The linguistics department were trying to decipher the inscriptions on each side of it, but they had no idea what language it was, and therefore had no way of knowing even the basic alphabet, let alone what the words meant. All they knew was that it was the same few phrases repeated over and over again. As Colonel O'Neill had said, the thing could just be a "don't walk on the grass" sign for all they knew.
She plodded up the steps leading to the briefing room, her feet feeling like lumps of lead attached to her ankles. Just one more briefing to get through and she would be done for the day. She couldn't wait to get home and have a long soak in the tub.
None of the members of SG-4 had arrived yet when she entered the room, so she set her report down on the table and walked over to the window overlooking the Stargate. Looking at it still gave her a slight pang of loss, as she had always associated the Stargate with Daniel ever since the first time she'd seen it. He'd been the one to unlock its secrets, after all, not to mention the fact that it was the same Stargate that he'd stepped through and disappeared from her life forever.
This thought surprised her and made her feel incredibly guilty. Had she really lost hope that they would find him? Did she really think this was it - that he was never coming back?
No, of course she didn't. She couldn't afford to think that way, no matter how long he was missing. After all, Ernest Littlefield had been missing for 50 years and had been found alive and well. Missing in action did not mean gone forever.
"Are you alright, Doctor?"
Janet had lost count of the amount of times she'd heard those words over the last few weeks, but she turned around and answered it the same way she always did. "Yes, I'm fine, Sir. Thank you."
General Hammond didn't look convinced. "You look tired," he said. "As soon as this briefing is over, go home and get some rest. Take a day or two if you need to."
Janet sighed and nodded. "Actually, I think I might do that, Sir," she said. "Thank you."
He gave her an encouraging smile, but didn't say anything more. Janet was glad of that. She was tired of hearing everyone telling her things were going to be okay. Things weren't okay. Daniel was gone.
Janet looked back at the gate one more time before heading to her seat. A wave of restless irritation washed over her at the sight of it standing there silent and still. She felt like yelling at it to cough up her husband, but she knew that was absurd. She just had to wait and hope that Sam would find something, or that she'd get a miracle, and Daniel would somehow find his own way back to them.
She just wondered where he was and what he must be going through that he hadn't been able to return to them yet. Whatever it was, she just hoped he wasn't suffering.
He was breaking. Breaking into little bitty pieces that no one would even be able to find. It hurt so bad he wanted to scream, but he couldn't do that. If he made a noise, they would know he was free.
No, not free yet. "Cape," he whispered. "Cape." He clung to that word like it was all he had left. Actually, it was all he had left. He pictured it in his mind, willing his tired brain to remember it. "Cape. Out. Home."
Even through the thick haze clouding his mind, he knew that the drug would soon wear off. He had to go. One chance.
"Cape," he whispered again. Time to go home. He clutched his throbbing arm with one hand and rolled to the side until he felt himself falling from the table.
He grunted as he hit the floor, but didn't let himself scream. Breaking. He knew he was breaking. If he didn't get out soon...
"Cape." He dragged himself onto his feet, swaying back and forth for a moment as he tried to balance himself. Then, still clutching his arm, he put one foot in front of the other, willing himself forward.
He made it to the wall. That was his first goal. Step by step. He could do it.
"Cape." He leaned against the wall and studied the panel beside the invisible door. The symbols were foreign to him, but he knew what he was looking for. One word. Cape. Freedom.
He almost cried when he found it. No time for that now, though. He let go of his arm long enough to press the button with all the strength he had left.
The door swooshed open.
Goal number two. He was out.
As he stumbled through the doorway, however, his eyes started to go dark again. He gasped and leaned heavily against the outer wall of the room, squeezing his eyes shut tight against the sudden pain and darkness. He was so close. He couldn't let them win now. He had to go home.
He cracked his eyes open again after a moment, and sighed with relief when he found he could see. He didn't waste another second. He forced his feet to move again, headed for his third goal - the outer door.
"Cape," he murmured as he came to the next control panel. His mind was growing foggier by the second, but he still remembered that word. "Cape. Out. Found it." He punched the button, and the outer door opened for him.
One of them was standing on the other side.
It looked surprised, and hesitated for the briefest moment before acting. That was its downfall.
With a cry of rage, he sprang towards it and grabbed it by the neck, using both hands despite the fiery pain in his arm. It fought back, but his rage was stronger than its fear. With a strength he didn't even know he had, he slammed its head against the wall again and again and again, until finally it went limp.
He realized then what he'd done. He let it fall to the floor and stared at the blood on his hands with an odd fascination. It was red, just like his. For some reason, he found that amusing and burst into hysterical laughter. To think that after all of this, they had something in common after all. Even his muddled, abused brain could see the irony.
A moment later, the laughter stopped. No time, he realized. Where there was one, there were more. They would come, and he wouldn't be strong enough to fight them off. He took advantage of the remaining adrenaline in his system and started to run.
The corridors were long and confusing, and there were times when he was sure he had taken a wrong turn, but he kept on going. When another one of them appeared in his path, he sprang upon it without even thinking twice and knocked it down onto the ground, pounding its ugly face with his good hand until he felt sure it was dead. Then he again dragged himself up onto his feet and ran on.
So close. Just a few more paces and he was there. So close.
Finally, he reached the last control panel. This door led to the outside world, something he hadn't seen in a lifetime. "Cape," he said triumphantly, punching the button with his bloodied fist. The door swung open, and daylight greeted his eyes.
He didn't waste a moment. He took off in the direction of the Stargate and didn't look back. He could see it ahead of him in the distance, and though it seemed so far away that he would never reach it in time, he pressed on. The stabbing pain returned to his eyes, but he pressed on. The darkness threatened to overwhelm him, but he pressed on. He felt that at any moment he would shatter like glass, but he pressed on.
Then he stumbled and fell. He finally allowed himself to scream in pain and rage as he hit the ground. He felt he'd broken for sure this time, so he lay there panting for breath for a few seconds until he could piece himself back together again. Then he looked up and saw the Stargate, just a short distance away now. He could even see the DHD.
"P3X 984," he murmured, dragging himself up onto his hands and knees. The pain that shot through his arm almost took his breath away, but he pushed himself up from the ground until he was standing again. "P3X 984."
He didn't know how he still remembered it. He could feel his brain starting to shut down again as he struggled to keep on putting one foot in front of the other.
"P3X 984. Cape. Home. P3X 984." He kept the mantra going as he drew closer and closer to his final destination. He was almost there. Just a few more steps...
Finally, he reached the DHD and slumped against it while he tried to focus his remaining energy on the task before him. "P...3...X," he said as he started to dial, "9...8...4." One last symbol... which one was it? He scanned the DHD, looking for the last symbol. He remembered the symbol for Earth, but that wasn't it. It wasn't even on this DHD.
Panic started to set in as he realized that he was almost out of time. He could hear an alarm ringing in the distance, and knew that they'd discovered his escape. He had to find the last symbol, or...
"Haha!" he cried joyfully as he finally found the one symbol that he didn't recognize. He remembered now - each planet had a different one. He pressed on it to make it light up, and then leaned his full weight on the crystal in the middle.
The Stargate sprang to life.
He glanced behind him one last time to see a dozen or more of them running towards him. He didn't care. He was free. He threw himself at the event horizon.
The next thing he knew, he was being hurled across the galaxy and dumped onto a stone slab at the other end. He lay there face-down for a moment as everything swirled around him and the pain shot through his head yet again.
He heard scuffling sounds all around him, and he guessed it was people. People - humans. God, how he'd missed humans.
His thoughts all started to jumble together then, but he knew he no longer had to fight it. The drug was wearing off. He was sliding back into oblivion. It didn't matter. He would soon be home.
"Oh my God!" someone said as they turned him over onto his back. "Dr. Jackson?"
"Cape. Home," he whispered. Then he blacked out.