Way # 6 -- The Drowning

Everything feels so open in the desert. The land is utterly flat and exposed. When the winds come, they don't need to do much to kick up massive sand-storms. When the sun shines, there's nothing to take the edge off, and all the world becomes a dusty furnace. When the stars appear, the sky feels so close that it seems you could touch it just by reaching out a little.

Daniel had loved this about Abydos. Everything was so shamelessly exposed and honest. It had a comfortable feeling of being genuine.

When the rains come, there's nowhere to hide. All the world becomes a torrent, the sands turn to a twisting sea. The floodgates are opened, and every parched nook and cranny is rushed.

Daniel woke up coughing. It probably had to do with the large quantities of water he had been inhaling in his sleep. Spluttering, he waved his hands about blindly, trying to fight off the freezing water Jack was liberally pouring over his face.

"Wh--huh--coughcough--J-jack? cough--ppft, what's--"

He managed to get his glasses on, and blinked up confusedly at the man standing over him.

"Jeez, Daniel. You breathed in about a quart of that stuff before you finally woke up. Not good survival instincts," Jack observed. Daniel was wiping his face, noticing his pillow was soaked straight through, and was lying in a pool of water puddled at the bottom of the tent.

"Jack? What are you doing? I--" Daniel stopped to cough some more.

"Carter found a river just twenty paces from here. There might even be some fish in it. I was thinking of going back and getting my gear."

Sitting up, the archeologist finally appeared to be awake.

"So you dumped half the river on my head?"

Jack took a sip from the canteen he had been pouring on Daniel.

"Don't worry, we purified the water before using it. No Goa'ulds or anything in it."

Daniel let out a sigh, and looked across the tent, vision still a bit blurred from water.

"You weren't kidding about this waking-me-up-marathon, were you?"

"What tipped you off?" Jack deadpanned, screwing the lid back on the canteen.

"Well, this is the third time I've nearly suffocated due to your creative efforts."

Jack hooked the canteen to his belt and smirked down at him.

"You know I'd never let you actually suffocate."

"Yeah, well, I'm starting to wonder now," Daniel muttered, more to himself than Jack. He unzipped his bag and gave his sopping pillow a disgusted glance.

"It's going to take days for this to dry out, you know."

"No it won't."

"Yes, I think it will."

"Quit whining. I'll let you borrow mine."

Daniel had taken the hand offered to him and allowed the man to help pull him to his feet. He frowned thoughtfully as he looked into Jack's face, for some reason finding memories of his dream suddenly returning.

"What are you going to use, then?"

Shrug. "I can live for a night without it. I've slept on worse."

Daniel didn't respond, just continued to look thoughtfully at him.

"Daniel? You awake in there?"

He blinked,

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, just-- trying to remember what I was dreaming."

Jack nodded in understanding.

"Anything good?"

Daniel squinted from behind his glasses, deciding he was suffering from coffee-deprived delirium. He saw Jack's familiar face and felt it was akin to his desert terrain, unshaved stubble the stretches of sand, mussed silver-grey hair the stars almost within reach, the eloquent crescent moons hanging double in the sky.

He gave his head a little shake, trying to clear his mind.

"Ah, yeah, I think so."

"Cool. Here, take this. We're leaving in fifteen. Breakfast's on the table."

And then he left the tent, leaving Daniel with a full canteen in his hands, looking down at his sleeping-bag, still trying to clear his head.