A/N: Sorry this story took a hiatus without warning, folks. School started and I got swept away in work. I'm back, I'll try to update as often as possible. This story only has a few chapters left in it to go, I imagine. Anyway I hope you all enjoy. Props to one of my reviewers, Wyrdnightsister, for this chappy's idea.

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Way #70 – Time Heals All Wounds

Another day, another world. Samantha Carter grinned eagerly down at the sheet of paper in front of her. The initial tests were complete and the samples tested positive for naquadah. She had a strong feeling all along that this would be so. This was a very pleasant thing to wake up to. She murmured to herself as she flipped through the sheets, sipping her morning coffee, sketching out in her mind the next steps to take. Yes. They should start in that area and work their way out in an eastern direction. That would ensure the wind in this region didn't interfere. Good.

Carter glanced over her shoulder suddenly, but the campsite was quiet and motionless. The pair of green pup-tents flapped gently in the breeze, and the sheets on her clipboard ruffled slightly. Carter had to suppress a shutter. Ever since they arrived on this world things had seemed too quiet and calm. It was lonely here. The ground was covered in a fine, slate blue-grey sand for miles that curved and scooped in rippling sand dunes and valleys in all directions. There were larger stones, too, smoothed from weathering, but no vegetation to speak of, and no sign of animal life, either. The distant blue sun would have normally kept this world an average of 68-75 degrees F, but the persistent breeze added a bit of wind chill factor. Samantha sighed and looked back down to her work. It looked like a boon of naquadah and the possibilities that provided for experiments back home at the SGC were fantastic. Carter was secretly glad SG-1 would soon depart this place, though, and let another group take over the mining operation. Something about this place just gave her the creeps. Maybe it was the constant buzzy sensation at the back of her head telling her that naquadah was very, very near. She was constantly on edge, expecting a Goa'uld to leap out at her every time she turned around.

Samantha jumped again at a sound, and a quick glance told her it was only one of her team members. The Colonel, frazzled clothes from sleep, was immerging from the tent and lumbered over to his pack sitting next to the fireplace. Carter relaxed and became absorbed in her work once more, writing down some notes on her preliminary plans. Several minutes passed before she looked back up again. When she did, she noticed the Colonel was making quite a fuss, emptying his pack of all sorts of junk and sorting through them. She watched curiously for a while. He would gather up as much crap as his arms could hold and then fumble his way back over to the tent and make his way inside. Several minutes later he re-immerged. Sam rolled her eyes and sighed, knowing it was useless to fight it anymore. She had to see what the idiot was doing this time to poor Daniel. So she got up and walked over, quietly, knowing from experience that she might get snapped at if she were too loud.

"Hey," she whispered once she was within hearing range. Jack glanced at her with minimal interest, quite distracted with his current task. He was pulling several more plastic things from his pack, balancing them in his arms.

"Colonel. What're you . . ."

"-it's best to not get involved, Carter. You don't wanna be taking any crossfire from Danny, huh?"

Sam frowned as she finally figured out that Jack was holding a huge pile of clocks. Plastic alarm clocks of various types, tons of them, digital, analog, corded and wireless, even some wrist-watches and stop-watches.

"Uh . . . sir? What's with the clocks?"

Jack raised his brows at her. He spoke in a half-whispered, mock-lecture tone,

"What did I just tell you, Major?"

She smiled slightly.

"Not to get involved."

Jack turned at that and made his way back to his tent with all the clocks in tow. Sam frowned as a new thought occurred to her.

"Wait- how'd you get all of those, sir?"

Too late, as Jack had already vanished behind the flap.

She hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether to return to her peaceful morning routine, or spend a few moments longer pursuing the latest shenanigan. Her curiosity won out this time.

Ducking under the tent flap, the dark, musty tent was sloppily kept, and she wrinkled her nose at it, and the random clothing articles spread about. Jack's clocks were everywhere. Just piles and piles of them. And they did look functional. Jack was putting out even more. Most of them were pivoted to face in one general direction, the sleeping bag Daniel was still buried deep in.

"You scare me sometimes, sir," Carter observed from her spot by the flap. The Colonel didn't even look up and continued his work.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Carter."

At that point Sam left and went about her own business, not foolish enough to wait around for the action to start and, as Jack had effectively put it, possibly get caught in the crossfire.

A sea of sand. Daniel could feel himself sinking into it. It unnerved him because the blue-grey grit reminded him of the Replicators. The way it was constantly shifting and changing, almost as if alive- individual chips ready to reassemble and merge into the twitchy, unfriendly insect robots. The silence only made things more disturbing. Only the howl of the breeze on this entire world to keep one company. It had been a lonely feeling when he tried to fall asleep last night. But Jack had been there . . . so it wasn't so bad. They talked and kept each other company. Daniel had managed to fall asleep . . .

He was dreaming now, though, of very unpleasant things. Insects where everywhere . . . his skin itched. He could feel their cool, scratchy feet all over him. The noise the group as a whole made . . . it was deafening. A whiny sort of buzz sound. One of them alone was not so loud, or so intimidating, but as a hive mind, they were a massive force. The blending of metallic, harsh buzzing sounds and all of that constant motion was enough to make Daniel feel sick to his stomach. He could feel them swarming all around him, and everywhere he looked, they were there- above him, below him, at all sides, shuffling by, pushing, shoving, moving. They did not see him as a threat so he knew they would not attack him . . . and they were not quite dense enough to immobilize him. He could still breathe, and move, if he did so slowly. It felt like wading through a very thick liquid. He was still afraid, though . . . but not for himself. He . . . he was afraid for someone else. There was a sense of danger. With a frustrated cry, Daniel pushed to try and wade through the Replicators . . . to move faster. But no matter how hard he pushed, he could only move at the same slow pace, like sliding through molasses . . .

God! He couldn't stand it. The disgusting little creatures all around him, this seething, writhing ocean of artificial life. He was helpless against them, and he knew it. He was deep in their world, and it was massive . . . it would take days to travel through, to try and reach his destination. He knew this. It would be too late. He'd be too late . . . God, no. Daniel whimpered as a sense of dread engulfed him. No! He couldn't leave him to die like that! He had to get there. He had to.

He plowed forward, using his arms and legs in stroking motions, as if swimming, his whole body twisting and turning desperately to fight against the crawling tide of creatures. The bugs crawled over and under and by him, entirely unaffected, entirely unmoved by his passionate attempts. Daniel cried out a plea and swung desperately with all his might, struggling there, but his movements were like a drowning person, treading water, gaining very little distance if any at all. He could feel the helplessness of the situation and it pressed against his chest like a dead weight. It crushed him. Knowing that here he was, so close and yet so far . . . alive and well . . . while no doubt his companion was getting tortured and killed. Daniel screamed and kicked and flailed, losing his mind in the blackness, grey and blue sliding around wildly in his vision, his voice drowned out by the screechy buzz of the hive. He felt his throat choking up, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see . . . no! No! No! No . . . Jack . . .

Oh, God . . . Jack . . . I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I couldn't, Jack. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it in time. I . . . I . . .

Daniel closed his eyes, feeling them burn, the knot in his throat. Able to stand the pain no more.

REEP REEP REEP REEEP

CHEEEBER CHEEBER CHEEBER CHEEBER

TAR-IL-IL-IL-IL-IL-IL! TAR-IL-IL-IL-IL-IL-IL!

AAAAAK AAAAK AAAAK AAAAK AAAAK

RRRR RRRR RRRR RRRR RRRR

MURP MURP MURP MURP MURP MURP!

CHAP CHAP CHAP CHAP CHAP CHAP

Daniel awoke with a massive gasp for breath, flailing his limbs in his sleeping bag violently, in some sort of spasm on the floor, crying out. All around him a symphony filled the air, a combination of the most horrible sounds he'd ever known on the planet. They were loud, shrill, buzzy and metallic, screaming at him from all directions, screaming at him. He opened his eyes but he didn't understand what he saw, just flashes of blinking red lights all around him, like the glaring eyes of the hive. He called and fought to escape his trap, tripped up in the sleeping bag, heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer, crying out helplessly as the shrieks rang in his head all around him.

He didn't know how but through his desperate struggles he felt his limbs slipping free and he stumbled around blindly in the darkness, bumping into the Replicators, all around, tripping him, falling onto him, and he swatted and pushed and fought them away. In this terrible state he crawled around on his hands and knees, pushing, pulling, fighting to gain some ground, some sort of escape, knowing how futile his efforts truly were. It had happened all at once and was quite a shock, when the wall gave way and suddenly he was falling, slipping from their grasps, out into open air and sunlight. He felt a new texture below him, their screams still in his head, and he sunk his fingernails in, grabbing on for dear life to whatever piece of sanity this new land was. This sanctuary, this island among the sea of creatures.

Ripping violently forward he yanked himself into this new abyss and crawled forward, blinded by the light out here, his eyes not adjusted to it. He knew he was making some progress, though, because the sounds began to decrease, slightly at first, and more as he plowed forward. They were further behind- was it possible? Was he really getting free? Daniel sputtered and coughed at the dusty taste in his mouth, and fought to bring his eyes into focus. He hadn't his glasses on but the blurriness right in front of him should have focused- he stared at the ground, trying to focus on his hands. Eventually he did so, and could differentiate, his fingers sunk into the floor. Yes . . . they were buried in the sand, and he could feel its smoothness against his skin.

The sand. Daniel stared down at it in horror, mouth agape and unable to speak. That same blue-grey grit, what he was feeling between his fingers and toes. The difference between this sand and his beloved Abydos was the difference between day and night. He shut his mouth and swallowed on impulse, feeling his gut tighten again and his throat constrict. He blinked painfully against the wave of nausea, unable to think.

"Daniel?"

The man knew his name had been called, though he didn't know from whom it came. He didn't have the effort to reply, though, or even consider one. His eyes drifted open and along the sand, and latched on to a boot. It was a boot, yes.

"Daniel? What are you . . . oh, my G-. . . Danny? Can you hear me?"

The man blinked at the boot a moment and then tried to follow it up, up to its owner. Someone was peering down at him.

"Oh my fuck," he heard a harsh whisper,

"Daniel, for God's sake. What's wrong? What happened? I didn't mean-"

"Jack?" Daniel asked, having somehow finally connected the voice in his mind.

"Oh, no . . . no, not good. What did I do? Daniel, tell me you're all right . . ."

Daniel automatically replied,

"I'm all right, Jack. But what about you?"

"Me?" Jack's voice was clearly puzzled. Daniel blinked at him, studying the man's expression. Jack was standing, Daniel was on the ground, he realized. Jack was in his fatigues like normal. It looked like nothing had happened to him at all. It didn't make sense.

"Yeah . . . you . . . I . . ." Daniel trailed off, too confused to really say anything that made sense. Jack couldn't stand it any more and leaned down, scooping Daniel up and trying to pull him to his feet.

"Daniel, can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

The archaeologist frowned, annoyed,

"Why does that matter? I'm trying to think. Jack, you can't be real."

"Huh?" Jack furrowed his brow and eyed Daniel.

"You died." The total conviction in Daniel's tone brought a very disturbed look to Jack's face.

Daniel added on,

"Didn't you . . .?"

Jack looked away. As if looking to somebody else. Daniel tried following his gaze and was met with a familiar face, Sam's. She was watching the both of them, quiet and with a deep look of concern.

"Is he all right?" Sam asked, almost as if fearing the answer.

Daniel didn't get it. He looked back at Jack. The man had his arms wrapped around him for support as he had pulled him to his feet. Suddenly, a light switch clicked in Dr. Jackson's mind. Just like that. Click. Instantly, he understood that he was only now awake.

Jack could see Daniel had finally come to- it was simple enough to recognize. He gave a guilty whimper and pulled Daniel to him tighter.

"God Daniel I didn't mean it I swear. I wasn't trying to blow your little mind I was just-just-you know! Doing stupid crap like usual! Please don't hate me-please-please-don't hate me-"

Daniel was too dazed at first to respond, still trying to sort things out in his mind.

"Jack . . . what. Happened?"

Jack gave him a look of horror.

"Don't tell me I have to actually tell you the stupid crap I did. You- you really don't know?"

"Um. Not really."

Jack studied Daniel's face.

"The . . . last thing I remember. Um."

Daniel shifted and blinked down at himself, finally realizing he was a frightened looking grown man in boxers and a t-shirt, clinging to the Colonel, standing barefoot in the slate-grey sand on a chilly and lonely world.

"Is some god-forsaken nightmare about the Replicators. Jack, could you maybe let me get dressed. It's cold out here."

Jack grunted an assent and pulled Daniel along back to the pup-tent in a rush, almost as if angry at Daniel.

"Wait out here a sec," he stated tersely and dove into the tent. Daniel frowned in confusion, gazing through the tent flap. From within were all sorts of strange sounds, a symphony of noise, various chirps, beeps, shrieks and cries in electronic voices. Jack started throwing things over his shoulder and straight out the tent, one by one. He clicked each clock off and then flung it aside.

Daniel watched as the clocks bounced across the sand in random directions. Sam came up quietly from behind.

"He was, uh. They're alarm clocks. He had them set to all go off at once, it was-"

"Yeah, I get it now," Daniel answered, as the watches and clocks whizzed by.

"He didn't mean for it to. You know."

"I know. I, uh-"

Daniel squinted at her face, holding his arms, standing a little shrunken back in the chilly breeze.

"It's never really caught me off guard before until now. I'm not sure why, this place just . . ."

"Gives you the creeps?"

"Yeah."

The last of the clocks went flying through the tent, from a strong toss by Jack. Then he reached out and yanked Daniel back into the tent. Daniel landed on top of a sleeping bag. Jack had a grave look on his face, the shadows of the tent making his face look even more serious and haunting. He spoke in a low, quiet voice.

"Daniel, I don't know how to begin apologizing to you. The first thing I'm going to do is obviously swear to you that I'll immediately put a stop to these stupid pranks."

"Jack, I-"

"No. Please let me finish first. I haven't been fair at all to you. I thought I could be light-hearted about things, I was such an idiot. To think you don't suffer from the same sort of crap I have to put up with on a nightly basis. As if you need any more shit to deal with in the mornings off world."

Daniel fell quiet.

"The last thing I want to do is add to your problems, Daniel, I want to help take them away."

Jack's voice was raw and sincere, and he looked upon Daniel with such plainly worried eyes. Daniel could practically see the thoughts churning in Jack's mind as the man reminded himself of all the Hell they'd been through together and back.

"Jack . . ." Daniel voiced so quietly. Gazing into his ashamed eyes, Daniel was so taken aback.

"I'm s-"

"Shhh. Jack. Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Apologize."

Jack stared at him, not any less calm.

"Daniel-"

"You never mean anything malicious by it and we all know that."

"That's not the point. Goddamnit Daniel, I can't count the number of times I've woken up like that, some scream still in my throat, because my own mind's been putting me through some kind of private Hell reserved only for me. You of all people don't deserve that-"

"Me of all people?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Don't give me that garbage, Jack. I'm no saint and neither are you. Stop insisting on staging your own little purgatory with me as your savior."

Jack blinked, surprised at the harsh reply.

"I-I'm sorry."

"We're in things together. All right? Same boat. Just as deserving as the next man."

Jack's shoulders slumped.

"Maybe so, but I still think you're my better half."

Daniel shook his head at him.

"You knucklehead. You haven't been making things worse. Think about it. All these times you've come up with newer and dumber things to do. I've been meeting the dawn with you as the first thing, not the nightmares."

Jack gave him a searching look.

"I guess, but me doing pretty lousy things."

"Things to keep us sane. All this insanity we have to go through as a team, and hardly ever talk about with anyone. There have to be ways to keep our sanity in tact."

"By dumping water on your head?"

"That is one of your primary methods, yes. Whatever works."

"But this morning . . ."

"Is bound to happen every once in a while. Can't beat them all."

"You dreamed I was dead?"

It was more of a question than a statement. Jack screwed his jaw sideways watching Daniel apprehensively.

"Yes. I . . ." Daniel sat down and focused on the memories.

"I was deep inside the planet. It was made of Replicators. They had a building towards the center, where they held you hostage. You were trapped there, it was hopeless trying to reach you."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know. For being an ass. For dying in your dream."

Daniel whacked Jack's arm.

"You can't apologize for getting killed in my dream, you moron. You can't be held responsible for what you do in other people's heads."

"Yeah I can. Maybe not other people's heads but I think I should be responsible for what I do in yours."

"Oh really?"

"Absolutely."

"Sounds to me like you owe me a favor then."

"I agree to that."

Daniel glanced around the tent for his watch, but it seemed Jack had thrown out all traces of clocks whatsoever, and it probably got lost in the crossfire.

"Aren't we supposed to be getting ready to leave soon?"

Jack grunted.

"Yeah. Whatever."

Daniel sighed.

"Jack, you can stop feeling guilty now."

"I scared the shit out of you."

"Well what else is new?"

Jack glared.

"This time is different."

Daniel sighed again quietly.

"Yeah. You're right. It was different. The nightmares used to only be about Sha're."

Jack straightened upon hearing the name.

"I loved her. She's gone now. I'll always care for her, but now. Now when I wake up, I don't have to wake up alone . . ."

Jack lunged forward and enshrouded the man with his body, clinging tight. He could feel Jack's body shutter, the tension he was holding in.

"It's all right," Daniel said gently. He swallowed, feeling a knot in his throat.

"I still feel like crap for this morning," Jack mumbled into Daniel's nape.

"Don't. Please don't."

Jack let out a long, strained exhalation. God, this was ridiculous, he had to make him feel better. Daniel pulled away so he could look Jack in the eyes. A deep, hurt, kicked puppy-dog look to them, which was ironic, considering it was Daniel who received the rude awakening this morning. Daniel cupped either side of the man's face. He brought his face close enough so their noses were nearly touching. Slowly, he said,

"Jack."

The man trembled slightly upon hearing his name spoken so low and earnestly. Daniel continued in a quiet, deliberate tone.

"I know you fear hurting those you love."

Daniel paused to pull in a breath.

"I won't break, Jack. Never by you."

Jack let out a strangled whimper and said sharply,

"I could-"

"-No." Daniel cut him off, "Never by you."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can, Jack."

Jack peered back, but Daniel could see the walls going up. The glazed look to his expression.

"We've got to start packing."

"Jack . . ."

The Colonel stood.

"Now. We'll be expected back in an hour. Get your gear."

Daniel sighed in defeat as the man walked away.

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