Dinner Date - Part 1

"Okay, I'm here – what was so important that I . . ." Daniel's exasperated words came to a sudden halt as he took in the scene in front of him. Jack was lying flat in the bed, his face once again covered by an oxygen mask, and with all the machines he had lost over the past week or so, reattached. Daniel barely had time to register the changes when Paul Davis pushed him out of the room.

"What's going on?" Daniel craned to see around the colonel as medical staff busied themselves about his friend.

"Let's find somewhere a little more private." Paul began to pull him down the corridor towards the small visitors' room, and after a brief hesitation, Daniel let him.

As soon as the door was closed behind them he rounded on the other man. "Well?"

Paul ran a hand through his impeccably groomed hair, leaving it looking uncharacteristically disheveled. "General O'Neill received a message several hours ago. Here." He thrust a crumpled piece of card into Daniel's hand. "Read it."

The simple words were written in an elegant hand, and while one part of Daniel's brain admired their flowing form, another part was horrified. He staggered back, falling into the chair behind him.

"Oh god!" He tore his gaze away from the card to look up at Davis, his tone pleading. "Please tell me Jack didn't read this." He already knew the answer. One glimpse into Jack's room had been enough.

Paul nodded, pulling up another chair so that his knees almost touched Daniel's. "He didn't react well. He ordered me to call you and I could see he was . . . " He paused a second, " . . . upset, and I wanted to wait to make sure he was okay, but he got even angrier and ordered me out. After I contacted the SGC and left a message for you, I came back to find he'd. . ." He stopped again, this time long enough to make Daniel prompt him to go on. "He had chest pains. They're checking him now, but they think he's . . . "

"A heart attack?" Daniel shook his head in disbelief. "No, Not Jack. He's too strong, too healthy."

There was a brief pause in which Daniel stared at the other man, silently willing him to agree. At last Paul spoke, staring down at his hands as he did so as if afraid to meet Daniel's eyes.

"Is he? Really? Daniel – think about it."

"He. . ." Daniel thought back to the last time he had seen Jack before the shooting. Jack had made a flying visit to the SGC, barely stopping long enough to say hello before hurrying to a meeting with Landry and some offworld representatives. And Daniel remembered the thought that had passed fleetingly through his mind before he had dismissed it as ridiculous – Jack looked old. For the first time since he had known him, Jack looked all of his fifty-plus years.

Paul came to his feet, the sudden movement making Daniel start in surprise. "I should get back to the general."

"I lied to him." Davis stopped dead as Daniel spoke, his hand frozen in the act of reaching for the door handle. "This is my fault."

"We all lied to him, not just you."

"But I was the one who couldn't be honest with him in the first place. If only I'd had the courage to tell him the truth. . . "

"And say what exactly?" Paul spun, taking a step back into the center of the room, his hands raised. Every word was spoken with distaste as if he hated himself for saying them. "That there are God alone knows how many Ba'al clones out there? That for every one we catch there may be another to replace it? That the general would never be sure of being free of him?" His hands flopped to his sides and Daniel watched as the anger drained out of him. "You were protecting him. We all were."

Daniel stared back at the other man and slowly nodded. "Yes, but at what cost?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"General O'Neill is insisting on speaking with you, otherwise I would refuse him visitors." The doctor gave both Daniel and Paul a look of warning that could not be misinterpreted. "I impress upon you both that he must stay as calm as possible. His blood pressure is already dangerously high." He held the door open, his voice lowering. "I will stay with you in case of problems and afterwards a nurse will be stationed permanently in this room."

They had already taken their first steps towards the bed when the doctor's words registered, but it was apparent that Jack was way ahead of them. He lifted the mask from his face, pushing it to one side as he glared at the doctor.

"Out. This is private."

"General. . . "

"I mean it. Out." For a voice so weak, the words were remarkably firm, but they were accompanied by the increasing tempo of the heart monitor.

The doctor took a quick look at the screens before staring back at his patient. Tension was palatable in the room. At last the stalemate was broken by the doctor's exasperated sigh and Daniel thought Jack had won, but, with a movement quick enough to guarantee him a place on an SG team, the man turned, grabbed a syringe off the tray, and injected its contents into the general's IV.

He gave Daniel and Paul a sardonic smile, completely ignoring O'Neill. "I'd make it quick if I were you." With one short comment, he stalked out, shutting the door loudly behind him.

"Aw, crap!" Jack turned his furious glare from the closed door to Daniel. "Get over here."

Daniel cautiously approached the bed, trying to ignore the rapid beeping from the machinery. His own heart seemed to skip a beat as he saw how ill his friend appeared. He looked frail, his whole presence somehow diminished.

"Hey, Jack."

The response was immediate. "You lied to me. You said he was dead."

"I . . . didn't really. . . I. . ." For once his much vaunted linguistic talent failed him and he stuttered to a stop.

Jack's gaze didn't leave him. He was pinned in place by the piercing eyes. "Is he, or isn't he?"

"He's . . . sort of."

"Sort of? How can you be sort of dead?"

Daniel couldn't help the smile that broke out briefly at Jack's question. Even as he was about to remind his friend of all the times they had both been sort of dead, Jack lifted a hand from the bed in an obvious request for him not to speak.

His voice was even softer than it had been before, and Daniel leaned in to hear him better. "Just tell me the truth."

Daniel flinched at the almost pleading request. This wasn't the head of Homeworld Security ordering him to give an answer; it was his friend begging him to be honest with him.

He nodded, but he doubted Jack caught the gesture as his eyes began to close. "When you're feeling better, okay?"

"Promise?" The single word was drawn out in a long whisper that descended into silence.

Daniel placed his hand on top of the now sleeping man's. "I promise."

He left the room wondering just how much Jack had understood of what he had said, and with the sinking feeling that only the pull of the drugs had delayed the inevitable.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

TBC