A/N: Many thanks to those reviewed. They uplift me and encourage me to continue writing. I greatly appreciate it. By the way, does anyone think I made Jack too…kind…in this chapter? Watching the show, I find he's not overly protective or sympathetic to Daniel. Am I mistaken? Thanks. –your humble author

Chapter Nine: Take the Long Way Home

"How's the arm?"

Sam shrugged as they walked towards sickbay, where Dr. Frasier would inform them of Daniel's condition. One of the Jaffa's staff weapon blasts had grazed her forearm, causing a nasty burn. With the help of a local anesthetic, it didn't bother her at all. "Nothing I haven't experienced before."

"Indeed, Captain Carter, I believe you have experienced significantly worse injuries."

"Yeah, too bad there's no healing device around when you need one."

Dr. Frasier walked out of Daniel's room just as they walked in to sickbay. Her morose expression and beleaguered body language told them everything they didn't want to hear. She sat down heavily and three quarters of SG1 followed suit.

She had spent the past seven hours stabilizing him and trying to assess his multiple injuries. After getting his heart and breathing started once more, he went into code blue again while they were attempting an MRI, following the CAT scan. Both revealed significant internal hemorrhaging and required immediate surgery to repair damaged organs. Oddly, he didn't have many outward signs of injury. She knew, however, that something was wrong when his blood pressure kept dropping. Janet sighed softly and pinched the bridge of her nose to futilely fight off her relentless headache.

"I'll be honest with you: The prognosis isn't good. He's in a coma right now and the damage to his internal organs is severe. Moreover, the brain activity we're detecting is minimal at best; if he makes it, it's highly unlikely he'll advance beyond a persistent vegetative state. I'm so sorry." She looked on the edge of tears with sadness and the fear she could have done something differently to create a better outcome.

Sam reached over and took Janet's hand. "Hey," she managed, barely holding back her own tears. She wouldn't let them see her cry, but it took a lot of effort. "You saved his life. If he wakes up—"

"When," Jack interrupted.

"When he wakes up, he'll have you to thank."

Jack stood up. "Can we see him?"

"Yes. But don't stay in there too long. I want you three to try and get some rest. I know it won't be easy; I have some mild tranquilizers if you need them."

They nodded, although none of them would partake. Sam squeezed Janet's hand and offered a weak smile, then followed the Colonel and Teal'C into Daniel's dim and sterile room.

There he lay, his life seemingly gone like the heat and glow from a burning log turned to ash. They had him hooked up to an EKG machine, a blood pressure machine, a heart monitor, an oxygen saturation monitor, a ventilator, oxygen, and an EEG machine. Tubes, cords, and IVs ran across and through his entire body, while restraints kept his arms at his sides. He looked small and fragile, like a delicate soap bubble that breaks with the slightest touch. They barely went near him.

"What do we do now, O'Neill?" Teal'C asked solemnly after a few moments.

Jack took a deep breath, which wavered faintly, if not noticeably. "I don't know. Pray."

They took unspoken turns watching over him. Approximately eight hour shifts for each member, with the occasional appearance from General Hammond, Sergeant Siler, Sergeant Harriman, and various other concerned staff members. Of course, Janet and her nurses checked in hourly. Actually, they removed his ventilator 24 hours after inserting it, then upped their prognosis from "50/50 chance of survival" to "life-long coma." It in no way uplifted SG1, especially Jack, who spent all of his shift and most of Sam and Teal'C's in brooding meditation.

Carter stood outside Janet's office with the doctor and General Hammond a couple days later. They spoke in hushed tones while Jack slept lightly in Daniel's room and Daniel lingered in limbo between death and life.

"Physically, he's more stable; I feel that, without any complications, his body will heal fairly quickly. For some reason," she stated softly, unaware of Ekur's kind medicine, "his body is recovering faster than I thought I would. I mean, I'm not talking about a miracle here, but it's a bit eyebrow raising."

"However…?"

Janet turned her empathetic gaze on Sam and smiled sadly. "However, despite all of your vigils, Daniel's brainwave activity has not improved. He's still in a coma and will remain there. At best, he will wind up in a persistent vegetative state. I wish there were something—anything—I could do, but the only real activity is in the brainstem."

As she spoke, a tiny spike appeared on Danny's EEG machine. No one noticed, including Jack, who couldn't read an electroencephalogram if his life depended on it. But another tiny spike followed the first, which preceded a slightly bigger one. Slowly, the spikes increased in quality and quantity, as though someone was going around the archaeologist's brain, flicking on lights throughout.

Daniel, who had known no awareness or thoughts for three days, drew in a gasp like a man finally breaking water after a long trip to the surface. This instantly roused Jack, who opened his eyes in time to see his friend choke out "Sha'uri," before bursting into uncontrollable sobs of anguish and heartbreak.

"Doc!" Jack yelled, flying from his seat to comfort Danny. He put his arms around the young man and gently pulled him into his shoulder, which seemed an appropriate place for a friend to cry. If anybody questioned his manliness, though, he'd kindly introduce them to his Irish temperament.

Dr. Frasier, Sam, General Hammond, and two nurses raced into the room. A beat passed before the medical personnel could recover from the shock of seeing their coma patient weeping and clinging to their stubborn visitor. Nevertheless, they quickly broke into action, checking machines, carefully extracting the two men, examining, and administering aid. Daniel cried for the entire fifteen minutes it took them to get settled. Sam held his hand while Jack hovered protectively.

As soon as she had things in order, Janet pulled up a chair and sent Nurse Kincaid to get Teal'C. She wiped Danny's tears and waited for Jack's strong presence and Sam's tender cooing to calm her patient. Eventually, he could meet her stare with his own weak and weary eyes.

"Daniel, can you remember your entire life?"

He nodded slowly.

"And do you remember what happened to you on P3X-772?"

Another nod prompted Jack to chime in, "Great, then maybe you could tell us."

"Colonel." Dr. Frasier's tone was not reprimanding, merely informative; she needed him to be quiet so she could assess things from a medical point of view. "Tell us what you remember after being captured."

"A lot of it's like a dream—I mean, a nightmare." Having prefaced his memories with such a disclaimer, Danny related waking up in the sarcophagus, meeting Qingu, his first experience with the shuhadaku, his talk with Ekur, the second experience with the shuhadaku, and then what happened with the kalashpeta. "Now I know that what happened in Sumeria resulted in Qingu's exile on Shin'ar. He is Qingu from Sumerian mythology. Jack, I think that's why my brain…regressed, so to speak; I needed to remember everything I'd studied after returning from Iraq and I needed to remember it instantly."

"But how on Earth did you manage to wake up? Dr. Frasier said you'd be in a coma forever," Jack said from the edge of the bed.

"You know how when a computer experiences an error, you can usually fix it by rebooting?"

"Danny, I hate computers."

He turned to Sam. "You know how when a computer experiences an error, you can usually fix it by rebooting?" She nodded. "It's as if my brain had to do that. Whatever Qingu did, it overloaded my circuits. I think."

"I'm just glad you're you again," Sam told him fondly.

The whole group, now joined by Teal'C, nodded their agreement. They all seemed awed and aghast by Daniel's experiences. They shook their heads, grateful to have everything sorted out and over. Soon, he would recover and everything could get back to normal.

Dr. Frasier chose that moment to speak up. "My patient needs his rest. Your brain may have rebooted, but your body hasn't."

As everyone moved towards the door, Daniel raised his hand and grabbed Jack's sleeve. The Colonel looked down with concern; if Danny wanted him to stay, he'd do that in a heartbeat. Actually, he'd only planned on leaving for a short while—long enough to make Dr. Frasier think he'd left for good. "What's the matter?"

Daniel's eyes held the ghostly look of a man who had seen and knew too much. "Jack…Qingu isn't dead."

Everyone stopped instantly.

"What are you talking about?" Jack laughed nervously. "I shot him myself; right in the stomach. Bang—crispy critter."

"You shot the host, but Qingu was already leaving his body. For Heaven's sake, he's a Goa'uld. Self-preservation is his priority."

All eyes looked from Danny to Jack. "How could you possibly know this? You were half-dead at the time."

"Yes, but Qingu was in my head. I could…feel him." The pitiable scholar shuddered to admit to such intimate contact with a Goa'uld. "He was out of the host on time and with plans, Jack. Big plans."

No one seemed quite certain if they should grill the exhausted man for information or let him rest. Dr. Frasier heartily voted for rest; she could tell from the way he lagged against his pillow and the shallow, labored breaths that he didn't truly have the energy to expound on the latest crisis. Even those not as in tune with the human body noted how his eyelids drooped and he couldn't seem to focus his gaze.

"Son," General Hammond began, "I really don't think Qingu can cause us much trouble, given the iris—"

"No!" Daniel interrupted as forcefully as he could, which wasn't very forcefully at all. "You don't understand." He had so much to tell them! Why couldn't Janet just give him some sort of stimulant? "Qingu saw all of human history in my mind. So did I, but it was too much for me to process; all I remember are a few fragments and my own life." He licked his lips contemplatively and his eyes fluttered about, looking for something to give him peace of mind. He felt so guilty! So horribly guilty! How could he relate what he'd let happen? How could he tell them Qingu knew about the SGC? About Apophis and Ra? Finally, he closed his eyes and willed himself to come clean.

Daniel described the kalashpeta as something very much like the device Nem used on the planet where SG1 was programmed to think him dead. Jack asked why none of the other Goa'uld had used it on them. Danny explained that, if he understood correctly, the device could pose a serious threat to the well-being of the Goa'uld and, as their previous interactions demonstrated, no Goa'uld happily embraced a threat to his or her well-being.

"Qingu knows about us. He knows how we got the Stargate, about Abydos, Ra, Apophis, the iris, our security measures—he knows nearly everything; he'd know more if you hadn't zat him when you did and interrupted his processing of the data. We need to stop him."

Hammond nodded and started out the door, followed by Jack, Sam, and Teal'C. "I'll assemble a group to strike preemptively on his camp. We'll—"

Daniel interrupted him again. "Wait, please! There's more. Qingu isn't on Shin'ar anymore. He left for Chulak." He couldn't bear to look at Teal'C. "We have to go there and destroy him before he garners more power and makes alliances. Those were his plans, in addition to conquering Earth."

"How many Goa'ulds do we have to kill before they take the hint?"

"All right, then, we'll assemble a team to neutralize the danger from P3X-772 and cut off any access to his home base. Then we'll interrogate the Jaffa there and use that information to search out and destroy Qingu. The team to P3X-772 will leave in 24 hours and the mission to Chulak is set to go as soon as we have enough data."

As they left, Jack lingered long enough to lend a few encouraging words and see Daniel try and get out of the bed. He, Dr. Frasier, and Nurse Kincaid all rushed to stop him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I have to help," Danny argued, feebly struggling under Jack's hands.

"The hell you do! You are not getting out of this bed until Dr. Frasier declares you completely healthy. You're lucky I'm not making her keep you here permanently. I will not have you risking your life again! Do you understand me?"

"But it's my fault!" he cried, then began sobbing again. "Everything here is my fault! I didn't get us off the planet sooner and I let myself get captured and I revealed everything to Qingu and I let my parents die and I didn't stop Apophis from taking Sha'uri…" His stream of words gradually turned into blubbered cries. Jack couldn't comprehend Daniel's pain or guilt; there was no way of knowing the young man had clearly relived every heart wrenching moment of his personal past.

While Jack tried vainly to comfort Danny, Janet quietly motioned to Nurse Kincaid to covertly retrieve a strong sedative. In as inconspicuous a manner as possible, Janet injected the syringe into Daniel's IV and waited for the effects. She didn't have to wait long.

"Jack," Danny whispered, still clutching his friend's arm and edging into unconsciousness. "I'm so sorry. I'm so—please forgive me."

When Daniel's head fell back against the pillow, Jack released himself from the now-limp grip and stood up straight, fists at his sides. He would supremely enjoy killing Qingu.

Much to Dr. Frasier's chagrin and Jack's pure annoyance, they actually needed Daniel's help. After capturing Qingu's base on P3X-772, the SGC had enough Jaffa to interrogate and glean information from. Unfortunately, they had no way of communicating. Only Danny could speak their language, which he gladly did from his hospital bed and under the supervision of four guards, Jack, Sam, Teal'C, General Hammond, and Dr. Frasier. Teal'C could understand bits and pieces, since his native tongue shared things in common with Qingu's guards', but not enough to take over for his friend.

After fifteen minutes of the very first interview, Daniel gasped in horror and fell back against his pillows. Every single person moved forward with queries and concerns; the guards leveled their weapons.

"What's wrong?"

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you unwell, Daniel Jackson?"

"Sir, permission to end this right now?"

Danny stopped them all with a wave of his hand. "No, it's just…he told me…Oh, how do things keep getting worse?" With a resigned sigh, he turned his gaze on Jack. "Qingu took Ekur as a host." He successfully struggled to fight back tears. "He promptly murdered Ekur's wife and son as a show of power. Jack, he used Ekur's own body to…to drown them both in the river."

Nobody said anything. What could they say? Instead, the interrogation continued, with a somewhat rapid exchange of words and the occasional reminder to translate, when Danny got too involved in his discussion. They learned that Qingu took a large contingent of Jaffa to Chulak to recruit Apophis's former guards, contact the System Lords, and essentially appropriate all of Apophis's power. After all, he didn't need it any more, what with being dead.

The succession of prisoners simply added details to Daniel's prediction. Within 48 hours, they knew much of Qingu's plans from the messages he'd sent back to Shin'ar. His plans were actually succeeding quite well. Soon, Danny knew, Qingu would set his sights on his ultimate goal: Total System Lord domination and, logically, power over the entire universe. Daniel tried to pacify himself with the knowledge that such a goal was wholly unviable. What were the chances? Then again, what were Alexander the Great's chances?

As Danny woke up from a Frasier-enforced nap, he found Jack looking down at him, not unconcerned, but not frantically worried, either. He seemed quite at peace with the present situation; Daniel had his memory back and wouldn't be in danger for a good while, and he could go kill the person who'd caused all the trouble. He didn't fear the ensuing confrontation with Qingu, because Jack knew his side would win. They'd killed Ra. They'd killed Hathor. They'd killed Apophis. Qingu would just be another notch in the SGC's belt. Jack grinned.

"I'm going with you."

Jack frowned. "You're what?"

"I'm going with you to Chulak."

"Has Doc Frasier got your drugs too high or something? Do you seriously think anybody's gonna let you leave sickbay, let alone the planet?" Jack snorted his disbelief, then gave Danny a hard look. "If you try to leave this bed, I will personally handcuff you to it."

Daniel stared back, only harder. "I have got four reasons for you, Jack: First, I know Qingu better than any of you; I've been in his mind. Second, because I was in his mind, I'll be able to find him on Chulak far faster than anyone else. Third, I want my revenge. Lastly, I swear I will leave SG1 if you don't let me come. Try me, Jack—I'm not bluffing."

Actually, he was. About the last part, only; he couldn't quit the SGC because that would end his chances of finding Sha'uri—the one person for whom he made himself go on.

"Danny," Jack whispered, vacillating between incredulousness and pleading. The first two arguments practically required him to give in; that sort of strategic value—especially since Qingu didn't know Daniel was alive—could make a real difference in keeping the rest of the party alive. The third reason he could empathize with. As for the quitting, Jack knew it to be a lie as much as Danny did. "Frasier'll never go for it and Hammond probably won't, either. Besides, you're in no position to go on a mission, especially one like this; your health would be a liability for us, you know."

"The matter is non-negotiable, Jack. I've recovered enough to get this done and Janet can't force me to stay here; I'm a civilian, remember?"

"The last time we argued about something like this, you got captured and tortured by Qingu."

"And we saved Sam and Teal'C."

Jack, seeking strength, looked up at the ceiling. He didn't find any strength there. "All right, I'll go talk to General Hammond. If I can convince him—"

"You'd better."

"IF I can convince him of your importance to this mission, he'll order Dr. Frasier to let you go. But," he added sharply, pointing a finger at his teammate, "when we get back, I am tying you to this bed and posting guards outside the doors. Got that?"

"Gotten."

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