"There's no need for that. I'm unarmed."
Relieved, Daniel dropped his gun. Of course, he hadn't even bothered to load it. He really wasn't up to shooting anyone right now. He wasn't up to doing much of anything, actually. He leaned back, thinking to put the elbow of his good hand on the floor and stay half-upright so he could see what was happening. Instead, he found himself sliding all the way down, unable and unwilling to get up again.
He heard the newcomer saying, "Really, I'm not going to put up a fight. Can you understand what I'm saying? Do you speak English?"
First contact situation. Daniel's specialty. He wasn't up to that, either. It took surprising effort just to lift his hand enough so he could rub his chest, which was still aching, but now, he figured it was just because of all the bruises. Someone hadn't exactly been gentle with the compressions. Not that they had said anything about what had happened, of course. He'd waken up to find Sam and Teal'c hovering above him and looking utterly devastated, and putting that together with what he had felt before wasn't all that hard.
"Sure, we speak English. I'm Cam Mitchell. This is Sam Carter and Teal'c, and -- Jackson?" Mitchell asked, all concern and worry once again.
Daniel hadn't even realized he had closed is eyes. Well, no need to keep them open. He had already seen what those newcomers looked like.
"I'm still here," he answered, his voice coming out so weak that it took him by surprise. "No one calls me Jackson. Just say Daniel."
"Well, you heard him. That's Daniel," Mitchell repeated. "And who are you?"
Mitchell could handle this. Way better then Daniel, at the moment. And where were those blankets when he really needed them? It was so cold in here. He was shivering, and dizzy even though he was perfectly still and flat on his back. His hand was a stupid, painful, dead weight, like a block of wood, without any feel aside from the inextinguishable fire.
"Now, that is a very interesting question." The reply came in a voice Daniel hadn't heard before, slowly and carefully articulated.
He still couldn't think properly. Still couldn't concentrate on anything for long enough. The panic of being stuck and imprisoned and probably dying inside these walls was like a vast black sea that surrounded the tiny island of his half-sentient mind. He tried to figure out these newcomers. So, they spoke English. Or had they just figured out that SG-1 spoke it and chosen it because of that? Were they Ancients? Could they be? Did it make any sense?
"Galen? What happened?" that other unfamiliar voice asked--the man who had spoken first.
Galen, as in the ancient Greek physician? Or maybe, an Ancient who had lived in Earth's antiquity? It was possible, but the timeframe... That would make him much younger, or newer, or whatever, than the Duodecim, those who were here at the time of the plague. Did Ancients really live millions of years? Now they did, sure, since they were Ascended, but before that? And if they were Ancients, wouldn't they be able to get everyone out of here? Away from this awful place and the impending doom?
"Funny, I was about to ask you the same question. I have no memory of the last few minutes. It was a complete sensor overload."
That was the man who was apparently called Galen. Daniel was pretty sure he had said "sensor" instead of "sensory", though he might've just misheard after all. He might've misheard the whole conversation. Maybe he was just imagining the whole thing. Maybe no one had come through the multiverse mirror. God, he felt so sick. He was afraid he was actually going to be sick, and couldn't even find enough strength to turn over.
Galen was speaking again. "Your friend is severely injured. He's in shock. Without help, he won't live long. I can help, if you allow me."
It took Daniel a while to get it that it was all about him. Won't live long. He had already almost died, so it shouldn't have come as a big surprise, but it still felt awful to hear someone say that in such plain words.
"I'm really not going to refuse any help right now," he mumbled, wondering if anyone even heard him.
Apparently they did, or agreed anyway, because the next thing he knew, someone had taken hold of his hand and started unwrapping the gauze. He decided to risk a look, only to turn his head away quickly and close his eyes again. He should've known what to expect. His hand didn't look remotely like anything that could ever be fixed and usable again. The fingers that had brushed the wall were all black and blue, and the rest was swollen and spotted red and purple, all the way up to his wrist. He thought he might not want to know what this Galen--Ancient physician or not--was going to do about it.
He felt Galen's hands holding his. A moment later, he lost all feeling of it. The pain, the burning, everything was completely gone. That wasn't such a bad thing, but the thought of whatever it might mean made him feel more sick and shivering than before. He wouldn't look again.
"Don't worry. I have temporarily blocked the nerve impulses from the damaged area, so there won't be any discomfort."
"Galen, what are you doing?" the other man, still unnamed, asked in a disbelieving voice.
"My best, Maximilian. You might do the same. Since we're going to stay here for a while, the least you could do would be to introduce yourself properly."
An Ancient expressing disbelief when the other was trying to heal someone? That, in Daniel's opinion, didn't make a lot of sense. Unless they were so selfish that they saw it as an outrage to waste their talents on lesser beings, such as normal humans. Or maybe he was just doing something so awful that this Maximilian couldn't believe it. Daniel still hadn't dared open his eyes, and since he couldn't feel anything either, he could only guess.
"Ah, then. Dear fellow captives. I'm Max Eilerson, archaeologist, linguist, currently working for IPX. Pleased to meet you all, but not at all pleased to be stuck here with you. Especially since I'm probably the one who has to get us out of here, with all that text on the walls."
"As a matter of fact, you are not. Daniel Jackson is working on it as well. He is very talented and highly appreciated in the fields of archeology and linguistics." That was Teal'c speaking up for him. Unusual to hear such praise in that deep voice, but probably he didn't like this Max's attitude any more than Daniel did.
They went on talking, Sam, Teal'c, Mitchell and Max, while Galen stayed silent, mostly. Daniel soon lost track of what they were saying. He drifted somewhere between dreamless sleep and unconsciousness, without any awareness of the passage of time.
"Please don't say that you're just as stuck and imprisoned here as the rest of us," Mitchell groaned.
He couldn't believe it. That someone could come through the ice-mirror-device just at random and without any more idea about getting out than SG-1. For all he knew, the people coming through that thing should've been Ancients with all the knowledge in the world.
"Yes, I think I just heard myself say something like that. We're stuck here, unless Galen's changed his mind," Eilerson replied. He was already starting to get on Mitchell's nerves. As if the situation hadn't been annoying enough without this smart-ass.
"I have not. I cannot do anything to try and get us out, since it would be suicidal, at best. At least there are some things I can still do."
This Galen was something Mitchell hadn't quite figured out yet. He had taken Daniel's hand between his, so that none of them could really see what he was doing. If he was doing anything at all. Maybe he was just sitting there and trying to pretend that he could be useful and helpful.
"What do you mean, that'd be suicidal? Suicidal as in getting all kinds of nasty stuff from the walls if you touch them?"
"No, that's not what I mean. And if you would mind not disturbing me further."
"Right. So, Eilerson? You feel like telling us what he's talking about?"
"He's afraid of some kind of a freak reaction between the technology that powers up this place and whatever it is that allows him to do his things."
"What things?" Carter put in.
"The magic. Techno-mage tricks. It's really just illusions, most of it, anyway."
"What is a techno-mage?" Teal'c asked.
"Never heard of them before? Well, I can't say I'd really know that much about them, either. A techno-mage is an annoying holier-than-thou, who uses technology to simulate magic and distract and trick those he deems lower than himself, which means pretty much everyone else. And is hardly ever useful when you could really use some help. Like now."
"So you're not Ancients? Alterans?" Carter asked the question everyone had probably been thinking about, though their hopes had gone pretty low already. These two surely didn't look or sound like what Mitchell expected from real Ancients.
"We're humans, if that's what you mean. Despite the fact that Galen might think he's something different and better than the rest of us. I was born on Mars, but if you're Earthers, I won't hold it against you."
"Just wait a moment--on Mars? The red planet? Fourth rock from the sun?"
"Call it what you will. I see you're an Earther to the core, with such a clear southern accent and all. Charming."
"We're all from Earth, except for Teal'c, who's Jaffa, and has lived most of his life on a planet called Chulak. As far as we know, Earth has no colonies on Mars. Not yet, at least--there's been talk about going there for years. So, if we suppose that device really is something like the quantum mirror, then you must be from a timeline where it's already happened. It really sounds pretty exciting. People living on Mars in 2005," Carter said.
"2005? No, you've got to be kidding. That's where you come from? That's where we're supposed to be right now?"
"Indeed, that is the current year, according to the common reckoning of the Tau'ri."
"Well, well. Last I checked, the year was 2267."
Finally, Daniel noticed something that instantly brought him back to the here and now. He could feel his hand again. It was still held tightly between Galen's hands, and tingling all over, but that was nothing compared to the earlier burning. Galen set it down on Daniel's stomach and let go of it.
"Go ahead and take a look, Daniel. It turned out quite handsome, even if I do say so myself. Now, I believe there is someone else here in need of a healing touch--Cam--Cameron, is it?"
"Galen, please. You've been at this for hours already, isn't that enough? You're not trying to make us believe that you can actually heal people, are you?" Max was as cynical about it as before.
Hours, was it? Had it really been that long? Of course, that was perfectly possible, since Daniel really hadn't been counting. He opened his eyes and raised his hand so he could see it. It felt perfectly normal, each finger right where they should be. He closed it in a fist, crossed his fingers, bent each one in turn. It looked normal as well, as if there had never been anything wrong with it.
He had to look at his other hand just to be sure that he had been looking at the right one in the first place. Compared to his uninjured left, the now mended right did seem slightly different. The skin was unnaturally smooth and soft, like that of a newborn, and still slightly tingling and raw. This definitely looked like Ancient healing to him.
"Oh, I think he really can heal people, Max," Daniel said silently.
He was feeling better, just in general. Not much to complain about, except that he was awfully sleepy. Reminded him of that time--only days ago--when Vala had been whisked to the Ori galaxy, and the mixed effects of the Goa'uld bracelets and the Ancient communication device had left him unable to stay awake except for short periods.
Someone was pulling his shoes off. He lifted his head and looked.
"Teal'c, really... I'm way past the age when I needed help with my shoelaces..."
"Daniel Jackson. Galen has expressed that you need rest, and I agree. I believe we should all attempt to sleep for a while, so we can attack our task of escaping this place with renewed energy."
"Whatever, Teal'c," he mumbled.
He didn't mind it anymore when he felt someone closing his sleeping bag around him. Going to sleep really was a magnificent idea.
Author's Note: I guess you've figured it out already, but here we are, at that crossover-ish bit I warned about at the beginning of the very first chapter. I don't own Galen and Max Eilerson any more than I do SG-1. They're not original characters, just borrowed for a bit--not that anyone really has much use for them right now anway, since Crusade got cancelled before it had truly begun, blah.
So, but, therefore, I really do hope this story is perfectly readable, understandable and just as interesting even if you've never heard a thing about these two newcomers before. If it's not, if they make little sense and aren't explained enough, are generally annyoing, or whatever, then review and tell me, and I'll try to do something about it.