Author's Warning: Contains some serious Danny whumping. Once again. Since that's one of the things this story is about.
"So, Daniel, truth or dare?" Mitchell asked.
Mitchell figured he should come up with something funny. Jackson really looked like he could use some cheering up. He had curled up with his arms on his knees and his head on his arms, withdrawn into himself. Actually, he looked like he needed a supportive arm around his shoulders, or at least a pat on the back, but still, though almost a full day had passed since that nasty incident with the needles, no one was particularly willing to touch him. Especially now that Galen was out, unable to warn them if there really was something to worry about.
Jackson lifted his head, but just a bit. "Truth, I guess," he said.
Now that he tried to think of a question, Mitchell found it surprisingly hard. Favorite food? Certainly not. Something about Vala? No, that wouldn't be nice. He came up with a useful serious question instead. A bit unfair, maybe, taking advantage of the game like this, but it was perfectly within the rules.
"All right. I've got a really good one for all of you. But since it's Daniel's turn, he goes first. How're you doing?"
"That's the question?" Jackson looked up. Mitchell noted that there was dried blood under his nose.
"Remember, you've got to tell the truth."
"Right. Well. I've been better, but I've been worse, too," Jackson answered. "Don't feel nearly as bad as I did after the first wall."
Mitchell thought that sounded pretty believable. "Had a nosebleed?" he asked.
"I thought you only get to ask one question."
"So, it's not a part of the game anymore."
Jackson sighed and shrugged. "Okay, yes. So, I had a nosebleed. No big deal, right? Happens with dehydration."
Mitchell raised his eyebrows at Carter, searching for confirmation that it was just that, not a hint of something worse. She gave it, with a nod and a few words. "It's not unexpected, really. But..." she fell silent, looking uneasy.
Carter clearly didn't want to talk this over in front of Jackson. Mitchell could think of several things to fill in after that "but", such as worry over the fact that Jackson was starting to look this bad this soon. This place wasn't particularly warm or dry, so he'd have expected them to survive several days without water. Maybe he'd been too optimistic.
"So, Sam, how're you doing, then?"
"Better than you, sir, I dare say."
Mitchell couldn't argue with that. Actually, he wasn't doing that bad, right now. Either his headache wasn't as bad now as it'd been a while ago, or then he'd just started getting used to it. But, as the one asking the questions, he wasn't going to discuss that with the others. Instead, he turned to Teal'c.
"Teal'c?"
"Currently I am fine. However, my supply of tretonin will soon be entirely spent."
That didn't need any more explaining. They all understood what it meant. As a Jaffa, Teal'c was probably the strongest and healthiest of them at the moment, but without the symbiote-replacing drug, he would get sick and die. And Mitchell could bet Teal'c wouldn't want to talk about that, so he left it there.
"Max? How're you?"
When it came to Eilerson, Mitchell was mostly worried about how he was handling this mentally. Not too well, if the way he'd started shouting at Galen in the first room gave him any clue.
"Just great, but ask me again tomorrow, and I might be dead," Eilerson's sarcastic answer summed up what everyone else probably thought.
"And as to our last team member..." Mitchell said, moving over to see to the techno-mage.
Galen's eyes opened before Mitchell had got there. He sat up and asked,
"Cameron? Any luck?"
"Afraid not. Apparently this is the worst room so far. So, if you're all right, then we're ready to go as soon as you are."
Galen spent a while gazing at the surrounding room, turning his head slowly. Probably taking the time to scan and process whatever he saw. Maybe Mitchell was just imagining, but he thought Galen stared at Jackson for a longer time than at the rest of them.
"We can't waste any more time. I can't tell how long I'll be out next time, but that's inevitable. We must go right now."
They lined up at the side of the Veraeda for the third time. Going through it was already starting to feel like a familiar thing. Mitchell knew what to expect. Staring into the ice, flowing, then freezing, until there was that sudden strange flash when everything returned to normal again, and the surface lost its sheen.
Of course, once it was over, the first thing to do was to see that everyone else had got through, and then go check on Galen.
"Everyone here? All right. Jackson, Eilerson, you know your job," Mitchell told them, and knelt to the unconscious techno-mage.
"Looks like it's getting worse every time. Pulse is around 180, and breathing sounds like he's just run a world record sprint. Sam, care to give me a second opinion?"
Daniel kept both his hands on the surface of the Veraeda, leaning against it. Blood was trickling down his face again. He could taste it when he licked his lips. Though they were through already, he still felt like the world was spinning around him.
He heard Mitchell tell that they knew their job. Daniel sure did. He knew everything depended on him and Max. He heard Mitchell's worried words from Galen's side. Galen couldn't take many more trips through the device. And Teal'c was running out of tretonin. Daniel couldn't believe he'd been so busy feeling dehydrated that he hadn't even thought of it. That running out of water wasn't the only thing that'd get to Teal'c. They had to get out. Soon. Very soon. Daniel had to get them out. He had to get to the walls and figure them out.
Daniel let go of the Veraeda and started making his way towards the nearest wall. The room wouldn't stay still around him. He couldn't step straight, he could hardly stay up. He wondered if this really was what he was supposed to feel like. He didn't feel dehydrated, he felt like he was suffering of a really, really bad bout of flu.
He was near enough to the wall. He squinted at the text. The writing looked familiar. Runes. Futhark. He'd have to read it to see whether it was in Proto-Norse, or if it was actually Asgard. Shouldn't be impossible to date. If he could manage it. He had to.
Next wall. It didn't look familiar.
A few steps forward, with odd aches stabbing at his feet. Another unfamiliar text.
The next wall was in Ancient. He'd known to expect that. He had to move on.
Without warning, an overwhelming spell of dizziness struck him. Instinctively, he groped for support, and felt his hand contact something hard.
In the fraction of a second, he understood what it was. God, no!
He yanked his hand away, stumbled backwards, lost his balance and fell. Right into Teal'c's arms.
"What happened? What'd it do? Nothing hit me... Not nerve gas again, is it?" he uttered to Teal'c's shoulder.
Teal'c obviously hadn't got what he said, or hadn't heard, or understood. Instead, he had placed a hand on Daniel's forehead.
"Your body temperature appears to be much above that of a normal, healthy person. Why did you not tell us that you were unwell, Daniel Jackson?"
"Teal'c, never mind, it doesn't matter now! God, I hit the wall! Teal'c, we've got to take cover!"
Daniel tried to put one foot in front of the other, but it was so hard thatTeal'c had to carry most of his weight. Besides, if it really was nerve gas again, and Galen was still out, they had nowhere to run. He felt sick. Even worse than before.
"Teal'c, Teal'c, let go, let me down," he pleaded urgently. Maybe Teal'c saw what was about to happen, because he did that without questioning.
Daniel fell down to all fours and threw up. He hadn't thought there would be anything left that could come out, but, of course, he had been wrong.
He pushed himself away from the stain and slumped to the floor, fighting to catch his breath. Blood again. He was throwing up blood. As confused as he was, he was pretty sure it couldn't be just dehydration. He'd caught something from the needles, after all. He was sure of it. And he really was contagions. Then everyone else would get it too and they'd all be sick.
He was vaguely aware of the others gathering around him, felt someone's fingers on the side of his neck--Were they completely out of their minds?
"No, no! Don't touch me! Get away from me! And the wall! Get away from the wall!" he cried out at them, and fought his way up from the floor. He could still get up. He could still take a few steps. He made his way to the pedestal and sat down, burying his head in his hands.
"What wall, Daniel? What wall's he talking about?" Mitchell was asking.
"Daniel Jackson accidentally contacted a wall as he began feeling ill," Teal'c told him.
"It's not glowing--can't have been the right one--did it do this to him?"
"I do not think so, Colonel Mitchell. I did not see anything coming out of the wall."
"Daniel? Daniel, talk to me--what's wrong? What's going on?" Sam's soothing voice came right from his side. She was too near. She shouldn't be coming anywhere near him. He edged away from her.
"Don't touch me, Sam, you'll get it too. It's the needles, Sam. It's... Something. Something bad. And I hit the wall, and I... I don't know what's going to happen to us," he rambled. She looked at him, lips pursed and eyes wide with worry, but she stayed away. She knew he was right.
And then he heard Max saying, "Is it just me or is it getting a bit chilly in here?"
It was cold. It really was. Daniel was shivering, and he didn't think it was just the fever.
"Indeed, the ambient temperature appears to be falling rapidly," Teal'c confirmed.
That was what the wall had done. It hadn't hit Daniel. It had hit them all. Unless they could get out fast, they'd freeze to death.
Mitchell was clearly fighting to remain in control of the situation. "Eilerson? You finished with the walls already?"
"With a quick check, I could recognize four, maybe five. Not enough, unless Daniel's got more luck."
"No... I don't think so," he told them.
"Then we've got to wake up Galen," Mitchell said. "And Sam, Teal'c--get all our blankets, sleeping bags, and everyone's jackets. Daniel, just try and relax."
That had to be one of the most stupid, useless pieces of advice Daniel had ever got. Try and relax, when he might've gotten them all killed--again--several times over--how was he supposed to get over that?
Sam gave him his jacket and his sleeping bag. They hadn't been wearing their jackets since they had got stuck in their own universe, since the Dodecagon's temperature had always been pleasant and perfectly steady. Always, until he'd done the unthinkable and hit that wall. He got the jacket on and got into the sleeping bag.
"Galen! Galen! Wake up! We've got to go!" Mitchell was yelling furiously, but apparently, without success.
It was getting colder so fast, Daniel couldn't tell apart his feverish feelings and the drop in room temperature. He felt like he was going to be sick again, and fell down to lay on his side, but luckily, wondrously, the feeling passed. No more blood, for now. He just stayed there, lying very still, hoping that the room would settle down, stop spinning.
Someone was wrapping a blanket around him. It didn't help a whole lot. His teeth were chattering.
Now he heard Max's voice, shouting at Galen, trying to rouse him.
Daniel felt someone's back against his, then an arm around him, drawing him closer. Befuddled, he looked around, and saw that they were all gathered in a heap in front of the Veraeda, covered in blankets and sleeping bags.
"No--can't--too close--you'll get sick too," he tried to tell the others, and tried to squirm away, but they wouldn't listen.
"Look, Daniel!" Mitchell was speaking in that commanding tone again. "We're still all in this together. If we share body heat, we just might survive long enough to worry about getting sick."
Daniel was too tired to argue. He just lay there, shivering all over, hoping for it all to end, but it wouldn't. Every time he thought it couldn't get any colder, thought that he was deep frozen from head to toes already, then it got worse.
He had completely lost track of time. He heard the others talking something, now and then, felt them moving about, talking again, but he couldn't even tell their voices apart.
"Daniel, give me your hand," Sam said right into his ear. He didn't dare think it meant what he hoped it meant. He struggled to get a hand out of the sleeping bag. When he did, he felt Sam's hands guiding it, until it touched the surface of the Veraeda. It felt like ice, but he couldn't know if it was because it really was crustedwith it, or if it was open.
And then it wasn't the room that was spinning anymore, but him. He was fluctuating, flowing, water. They were going to live, if only for a while longer. They were going through the Veraeda again.