Monday, April 5
Reality L583

The remainder of the briefing was taken up with a complete tracing of the steps of both O'Neills, which involved much viewing of video footage of Jack walking down hallways. Jack grimaced. Walking down hallways was boring enough without then watching himself do it. Still, it seemed to be incontrovertible that the second Jack O'Neill had come through the transdimensional mirror. They were all agreed on that. There was only one point of contention.

"I'm sure there was only the one intruder," Malkin said for the umpteenth time. Carter looked about ready to tear her hair out at the man's obduracy. Hammond was keeping his council for the moment, and Fraiser had excused herself to check on her patient.

Jack had been silent for awhile, trying and failing to think of a way brute force could be applied to this problem. Now he cleared his throat. They all turned and looked at him. "As it happens, Malkin, just from the evidence we already have, you're clearly wrong."

Malkin blinked at him. "How so, sir?"

"We know that at least two people came through that mirror, the other Jack and the other –"

"Daniel," Carter finished for him. "Of course."

"I meant mobile intruders," Malkin said, flushing.

Jack shrugged. "I have a theory, for what it's worth," he said and waited.

"By all means, colonel," Hammond said.

"I think the other O'Neill had an accomplice," he said. Malkin started to speak and Jack gave the younger officer a stern look that silenced him. "Okay, we know he has some kind of cloaking technology because he wasn't visible when he emerged from the mirror, right?" They nodded and he pursed his lips. "Malkin, can you show us the view of the door opening on its own again?"

Lips pressed tightly together, Malkin started looking for it. Jack fiddled with the pad of paper that someone had foolishly placed in front of him. "Here it is, sir," Malkin said.

Jack dropped the pad and looked up. "Okay, now play it through."

The lieutenant did as he asked, looking irritated and as if he didn't see the point. There it was, a door opening, standing wide open for a count of twenty-five seconds, then closing again, all without any sign of a person near it. "See, that's it." They all looked at him, seeming puzzled. "Come on," he said impatiently. "How long does it take to go through a door? From the time you pull it open till the time you close it behind you?"

Hammond had comprehension dawning in his eyes, and Carter grinned. "Ten seconds at the max," she said. "I see where you're going."

Jack turned to Malkin. "When you're sneaking around, invisible, you aren't going to hold a door open for any longer than you absolutely have to."

"He was holding it open for someone else," Malkin said slowly.

"No doubt someone carrying Daniel," Jack said. "There's no way he had time to go upstairs, deposit the second Daniel in the storeroom, then go back down and appear in that men's room. Not to mention the chance of an early discovery scuttling his plans. And why would he go downstairs at all at that point, if he didn't need to?" He shook his head. "No, he had someone else with him, to carry Daniel and back him up if necessary. That's why he stopped first to open the door to the storeroom in part, to let his accomplice in to set the scene."

Carter nodded. "Then he went in, grabbed our Daniel, dragged him into the storeroom, immobilized him somehow and handed him over to his accomplice." Jack wished he could avoid imagining all the various means a man with his training could use to immobilize a struggling archeologist.

"And why he holds the door open for several seconds before closing it when he comes out again," Malkin said slowly. "You're right, it makes sense."

Jack leaned back and crossed his arms. "So what's our next move?" he asked. "We have to figure out a way to activate that mirror and point ourselves towards the right reality." He had to focus on planning, or he'd start thinking about his Daniel trapped in another reality with a version of him that would leave a man – a Daniel – bleeding and dying in a storeroom without so much as dropping a hint that medical help might be necessary.

"Captain Carter, have you got anything to go on in that direction?" Hammond asked.

"We always meant to do a closer examination of the device, but other things have come up, and since Daniel left the controller in the other reality he went to, we didn't have any easy way to test it."

"He was kind of running for his life, Carter," Jack said.

She looked startled. "I'm not blaming him, sir," she replied. Biting her lip she shrugged. "We're just going to have to jury-rig some kind of a device to control it." Though her tone held confidence, her eyes didn't seem any too hopeful.

"And I'll go see how this Daniel is," Jack said. "See if he can tell us anything about his reality."

"Very good. Thank you all." Hammond stood up. "Dismissed."

Jack exchanged a look with Carter who gave him the briefest of encouraging smiles and then headed to her lab. He watched her go, then headed back to the infirmary. Makepeace was waiting outside the elevator.

"I thought you'd be back sooner or later," Makepeace said. Jack nodded. "I said I'd apologize if it wasn't you, so here I am. I apologize."

"It was the right thing to do," Jack said, shrugging. "I'd have done the same."

"True enough," the marine colonel said. "Well, I've got work to do." With that, he got into the elevator behind Jack and left.

The infirmary was largely empty. None of the missions lately had resulted in injuries that required a long stay in Dr. Fraiser's domain, so the only people present who weren't staff were Daniel . . . this 'other' Daniel . . . and Teal'c.

The archeologist was sleeping. Jack looked down at him and he could see part of why Fraiser was so certain this wasn't their Daniel. Now that he was cleaned up, Jack could see bruises that were definitely older than today. He was sleeping, but his breathing wasn't as deep as one might expect from someone sleeping normally. Jack glanced up at Teal'c. "How has he been?"

"He keeps waking and speaking incoherently," the Jaffa said, looking uncomfortable.

Try babbling and it's probably closer, Jack thought dryly. "Here, I'll relieve you. Go see if you can help Carter with her tinkering."

The alacrity with which Teal'c accepted this offer spoke volumes about how disturbed he must be by the combination of the wrong Daniel and the delirium. Jack picked up the chart and glanced at it, whistling softly. Kidney's injuries could cause confusion, which probably accounted for disoriented babbling. When Teal'c was gone, Jack pulled a chair over and sat down next to the bed. After awhile, the man beside him began to stir.

Daniel opened his eyes and blinked muzzily at the empty air on the other side of the bed. "No, take the dog away," he said, sounding a bit annoyed. "I don't want a dog in here."

"Daniel, there's no dog," Jack said reassuringly. He was unprepared for the violent reaction he got. The other man stiffened and drew away, turning his head to gaze at him apprehensively.

"Do you have more work for me?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. "I'll do –" He broke off as he raised his right arm and saw the cast. It seemed to spark some kind of memory, because he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His voice was quiet and very tense when he spoke. "Please, I'll do what I can. Don't be angry."

Jack blinked and gulped down rage at the realization that this Daniel was actively afraid of him. "I'm not the one who hurt you," he said hastily. "I mean he – the other Jack – brought you through –"

Daniel's eyes flipped open and he broke in. "He took me through the mirror again?" he asked. Stunned, Jack nodded and Daniel shook his head. "He doesn't like Daniels, so why's he want so many?"

It took Jack a moment to find his voice. "Again? Daniels?"

Daniel nodded. "Can you get Sha're for me, Jack? I need to see Sha're."

Jack gaped at him. "No, Daniel, I can't. She's –" He cast about. "She's not here."

"Oh. I thought I heard her voice." He smiled blissfully. "She has a beautiful voice."

"Yes, she does," Jack agreed, gulping. He had no idea what the situation was with this Daniel's Sha're, and he was desperately afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Daniel looked over at him solemnly. "Could you tell the people in the next room to turn the music down?" he asked. "I think it's keeping me awake."

Jack looked around. The only sounds in this room were the occasional beeps from the monitors. "There isn't any music, Daniel. It's in your head."

The other man squinted, looking thoughtful. "How'd it get there?"

"Just try to ignore it. It'll go away," Jack said.

"Okay." Daniel looked up at the ceiling. "Am I home?" he asked.

Jack chose his words carefully. "You're away from the Jack that hurt you. You're safe."

"Where'd Teal'c go?"

"He's helping Carter with some experiments," Jack replied.

"Ah." Daniel nodded sagely. "Spear-ments. She looking for –" He looked back towards the place he'd looked at originally. "No, get off the bed," he said. "Could you please take that dog away?"

The conversation went on like that, Daniel was indeed babbling. Eventually he drifted off to sleep again, leaving Jack to try and make sense of what he'd heard. This Daniel had said that he'd been taken through the transdimensional mirror before, and that the other Jack didn't like Daniels, but that he wanted a lot of them.

What had he done to his own Daniel that made him need spares? Or did he still have his own Daniel and was just getting extras? Was he just going from reality to reality, dumping the last one he took in the new one? It was an appalling thought and hard to believe. If that was what he was doing, Jack didn't have any idea how they'd go about stopping him.

And if he dumped their Daniel in another reality, how the hell would they ever find him?

Reality A001

Daniel had finally settled on the floor to do his translation. He'd gathered the requisite texts around him and was deeply engrossed in the history he was gradually taking in. These were a people who had lived under the Goa'uld until their planet's atmosphere had been destroyed by a meteor strike. A few survivors had lived for about a decade, and this history had been written by one of those. Their god had come back about six months after the meteor strike, seen the devastation, and gone right back through the gate, never to return.

It was utterly fascinating how they'd explained this abandonment to themselves. They had reasoned that their god had gone to find a solution to the problem and would one day return to lead them to a glorious new world.

The door opened and Daniel sat up straight. He had his legs crossed and he'd been leaning his elbows on his knees as he worked. As Jack came into the room, radiating hostility, Daniel untangled himself and stood up. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, remembering the order not to speak unless spoken to.

Jack was looking at the books and papers spread out on the floor. His eyes were narrowed and he looked angry. He turned and looked at the barren desk, then beckoned Daniel towards him.

Gulping, Daniel walked over to him. "Got a problem with the desk?" Jack asked, his tone soft and deceptively mild.

"No, I just prefer the floor," Daniel said, not looking at the surface of the desk.

Jack tilted his head, the anger in his eyes growing all out of proportion to the situation. "What, is the desk not good enough for you?" he demanded.

"It's fine," Daniel said hastily. "I just wanted –"

"It's got drawers like other desks, shelves." Jack was demonstrating these features for him.

"I know that," Daniel said, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone.

Jack turned slowly, his lips tight. "You know?" he asked. "You know. Then why aren't you using it?"

"Because I don't want to," Daniel said.

"Get your stuff," Jack ordered. "Move it onto the desk now."

Daniel stared at him. This was ridiculously petty. "I don't want to use the desk," he said. "I can work just as well –"

Jack seized him, moving so quickly that Daniel couldn't follow the individual actions. He suddenly found himself with his face pressed against the wood of the desk, his left arm twisted up behind him. Jack was pressing down, putting weight on his arm at that angle, causing intense pain. Terror spasmed in Daniel's gut. "You will work like a sensible person, at the desk that has been provided for you," Jack growled into his ear. Then he grabbed Daniel by the back of his neck and threw him down on the floor where he'd been working, which sent his papers flying. "Now, get your stuff!"

Ridiculously petty or not, the man was clearly serious and willing to enforce his dictates. Daniel got up onto his knees and started gathering up the papers. He picked them up and put them on the desk, then got the books, trying to conceal the fact that he was shaking. Old habits would have to be watched for. He was so used to sniping back and forth with Jack that he wasn't guarding his tongue as carefully as he should be.

He turned to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. A sudden shove sent him sprawling to the floor again. He landed with a bruising thump, then lay there for a moment, stunned. Hesitantly, he rolled over to see what Jack was doing. The colonel was gazing down at him measuringly, a slight grin on his face.

Fury and fear were making Daniel shake harder than before, and he struggled to contain himself. He hadn't experienced this kind of juvenile hazing since his first years at college. He sat up and inched backwards, far enough that he wouldn't be right on top of Jack when he stood up. It made no difference. Jack walked forward and kicked his legs out from under him before he'd gotten his balance back. "I thought you liked the floor, Daniel," he said as Daniel landed on his butt.

He was being a bully, and if there was one thing Daniel's childhood had taught him to handle, it was bullies. He sat on the floor and didn't look up. There was no point in challenging him.

"Are you playing me, Daniel?" Jack asked, a silken tone to his voice. He grabbed Daniel's hair and jerked his head up and back so that they were looking into each other's eyes. Daniel scrambled onto his knees to ease the pressure. "You are, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Daniel said, keeping his expression as bland as was possible with his hair twisted in the other man's hand, yanking painfully on his scalp.

Abruptly, Jack shoved him forward, so that he had to catch himself with his hands to avoid smashing his chin against the concrete. "Get your work done. Dinner is in another hour." He walked away, and Daniel stayed on the floor until he heard the door shut.

He levered himself back to his feet and stood still for a moment. How many Daniels had stood in this room, wondering if there was anything they could do that would be right? He turned and walked to the desk with its bloodstained surface and sat down in the chair, trying hard not to wonder if it was the blood of one of his counterparts that had sunk so deeply into the wood.

Slowly, he rearranged the papers so that he could look at them again and opened up the books to show the pages that he needed to see. Then he sat, looking at them but with his thoughts turned inward. What was he going to do? Did they realize at home yet that they had the wrong Daniel? Were they working on a way to get him back? He wished again that he had thought to grab the controller from the other reality. For one thing, if he had, a lot of things might have happened differently there.

Bending again to his task, he began to translate the text from where he had left off, struggling to regain the fascination he had felt so strongly before the interruption.

After another hour, the door opened again, and Daniel turned instantly. It was Lt. Carter. She had a tray of food in her hands. "Dinner time," she said. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small case. "And I thought you might be able to use these." She turned to go, but he reached out to catch her arm. She turned, neatly avoiding his hand. "What?"

"How long did the one before me last?" he asked. "Before he beat him bloody and left him in a storeroom?"

Her lips tightened. "Six weeks," she said. "I'll be back for the tray and to check on your progress in a short while." With that she left, and he didn't try to detain her again.

A month and a half. He ate the food that had been provided, which was standard cafeteria fare, then set it aside and got back to work. At least the Goa'uld seemed to be no different here, just as evil and self-centered as they always were.

Carter came in after awhile and said, "Let me see."

He let her take the papers he'd been working on. "There's only about a page more to translate."

"Good," she said. "When you're done with that, we've got something your predecessor left unfinished." She gave the papers back and then took up the tray to go.

"Sam," he said, almost pleading.

She turned. "I don't know you," she said. "The Daniel I knew is dead."

"And I'm going to be dead soon, aren't I? Or as good as."

"That's not my problem," she said and she walked swiftly to the door.

"When did you get so cold?" he asked and she froze with her back to him, one hand raised to knock. "Or were you always like this?"

Without turning, she said, "The lights will be dimmed in two hours. Good night, Dr. Jackson." She left the room and Daniel turned back to his papers, stifling his emotions as best he could.

His Sam would come up with a solution. She had to. He refused to consider the alternative.

Samantha handed the tray off to the kitchen helper who was waiting for it. Hammond and O'Neill's orders had been very strict, no one but SG-1 or the general was to be permitted in to see a Daniel. Two of the others had succeeded in gaining sympathy from some of those sent in to tend to their needs, and the general had been furious. And in the end it had all been pointless. Colonel O'Neill had beaten them to a bloody pulp and gone and gotten new ones. This was the seventh Daniel she'd known, including the one that originated here.

She'd made friends with the first one O'Neill had grabbed, but that was before she'd realized that he was going to take out his residual anger at their Daniel on the new one. Well before she'd gotten to watch him pulverize Daniel after Daniel. But the fact was, they needed the information that only Daniel could get. There was no one else who could translate for them.

Her lab was a welcome refuge from stress, a place where she could immerse herself in clean, simple, scientific questions and ignore ethical dilemmas.

"So, Lt. Carter, how does the new Daniel seem to be progressing?"

She turned, startled, to see that Colonel O'Neill had been waiting for her. "Very well, sir," she said. "He's actually translating this document considerably faster than the last two managed it." That may be because he doesn't have a concussion, she thought.

"Good," O'Neill said, and she waited. "Take all the notes the last Daniel left in to him in the morning. We need to learn how to build that device."

"Yes sir," she replied.

"I'm hoping this one can be more practical than some of the others have been. He quieted down in his SGC before I had to break anything or knock him on the head."

"Have you considered taking some kind of tranquilizer, sir?" she asked.

"If we're lucky, we won't need to take another one," he replied, grinning. "Well, I'll leave you to your work, lieutenant."

She watched him go. She'd checked in with Daniel's monitors earlier, and she knew the colonel had already paid Dr. Jackson a friendly little visit. However practical the man could be, it would make no difference in the face of Colonel O'Neill's carefully nurtured animosity.

Settling down to her latest project, she sighed. This one had been made possible by the last Daniel's translation of several pages of an alien physics book. Why did she feel like she was building her work on a pile of corpses?

After making several fruitless attempts to get started, she pulled open the drawer next to her and took out the folded piece of paper she'd found in her locker three days before and read it again.

Lt. Carter,

The cycle needs to end, you know it as well as I do. Something drastic needs to be done. If you're tired of watching irreplaceable resources go to waste, meet me for coffee at the Cuppa Café some Wednesday around 6:00.

An Interested Observer

She bit her lip, considering it. This Daniel had hit her very close to home. She didn't want to see another gentle, intelligent man get beaten to unconsciousness and beyond, then taken away and replaced by a fresh version of himself.

It was Monday. Two days. She had two days to decide. Her mind continued the logical train. And after that she'd have seven more days to decide. And then seven more . . . but it wouldn't stretch out forever. Some of the Daniels had proven to be more stubborn than others, and there was no predicting how this one would turn out. If Colonel O'Neill killed another Daniel . . . could she live with herself?

True to Lt. Carter's words, the lights dimmed after another two hours and Daniel looked down at the papers. He only had a little more to go, and when his eyes adjusted, there was just enough light left for him to finish.

When he was done, he put the books away and tidied the surface of the desk. He'd begun to ache from bruises where Jack and Kowalski had grabbed or hit him. Going into the bathroom he ran a bath of steaming hot water to soak away the pain as much as possible. He wondered, vaguely, if there was a rule list this Jack had of what Daniels were and weren't allowed to do. He had a feeling, though, that asking for it would not be well received.

When he felt a little more relaxed, he got out and dried himself off, then looked in the cupboard. Sure enough, there was Daniel-sized clothing. Pulling on a pair of pajama pants, he went to the bed and lay down very carefully so as not to reawaken the aches.

Contrary to his expectations, he fell asleep very quickly.

Tuesday, April 6
Reality L583

Jack woke with a start to the concerned eyes of Dr. Fraiser. "You should get some rest, colonel," she said. "You can't stay here all the time."

He blinked blearily and looked over at Daniel. "Someone should be here. He keeps waking up so confused."

"The infirmary is full of people, colonel," she said.

"Not right here," Jack replied. "He needs someone right here."

She looked startled, but shrugged. "Okay. But if you're asleep –"

"I wake up when he moves," Jack said. He swallowed. "It's like when Charlie was sick. You know how that is, don't you?"

Her eyes warmed. "Yes, I do." She stood up straighter. "I'm going to find a bed in one of the barracks myself." Some of his alarm must have shown. "Someone will fetch me if I'm needed, colonel. Don't worry." She gazed at him for a long moment, then glanced at the sleeping Daniel. Squeezing Jack's shoulder, she left the infirmary.

"You don't need to stay." The voice was weak, but it was sincere. "I'm okay."

"Who's going to send away the imaginary dogs that plague you if I go?" Jack asked reasonably.

"Remember the world we live in, Jack. Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they're imaginary."

"Then it's even more important that I stay," Jack replied.

"Look, I know you don't really like me much anymore," Daniel said, and Jack had the sense that he was clinging to some form of lucidity with teeth and toenails. "You don't have to stick around."

Jack wondered if he was talking about the bastard Jack who'd stolen him or his own Jack. Then he thought it through. If it was the bastard, it wouldn't be so calm.

"Who says I don't like you?" Jack asked.

"You're always growling at me, and you never hang out at my office anymore."

Jack straightened. Sounded like this guy's Jack wasn't that great either. "Don't worry about it, Daniel."

"Why isn't Sha're here? She could relieve you."

The question put a dagger in his heart as he thought about where the Sha're of this reality was. Putting that out of his mind, he leaned over and touched this Daniel's left hand and said, "Don't worry about it, Daniel, go to sleep."

"Don't want to sleep. 'Fraid I'll wake up in the other place."

Jack shook his head. "You're not there anymore, and you're not going back."

Daniel blinked muzzily at him. "'S good to be home," he muttered, then his eyes closed.

Jack patted his hand feeling utterly at sea. When this Daniel came to himself again, he might or might not remember any of these conversations, but he would undoubtedly be devastated to learn that, while he was safe, he was not home. And the level of fear this Daniel had shown towards him initially did not bode well for his Daniel. He hoped Carter was making good progress on that device.

He wondered if this insistence that Sha're should be here to look after him was the confusion talking, or if this Daniel's Sha're was actually safe and in Colorado. If that was the case, what had driven this Daniel to be a member of the SGC, and was he on SG-1? He had so many questions, but no way to get answers. He couldn't exactly shake this man awake and demand them, much as he'd like to.

He glanced at the clock. One a.m. What was his Daniel doing?

Sam stretched and squinted her eyes against the weariness that was threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't stop. While their Daniel was in the hands of someone like that Jack, she couldn't abandon work on anything that might bring him home that much sooner.

Blinking her eyes to clear herself of the fog that was clouding her brain, she bent to her tools again, only to have them gently removed from her hands. "Teal'c!" she exclaimed. "I have to –"

"You must rest, Captain Carter," the Jaffa said firmly. "It will do DanielJackson no good if you wear yourself out, and you will work better when you have rested."

"I need to try this, Teal'c," she said, holding her hands out for her tools. "I need to keep working." Her stern tone was marred a bit by the enormous yawn that interrupted her words.

He shook his head and put the tools on the workbench out of her reach. "You must rest, Captain Carter. DanielJackson would be the first to say so."

She looked over at the clock. "I can pull all-nighters, Teal'c, I'm good at it," she said. "It's only three a.m."

He looked very seriously at her. "Can you solve this problem tonight?" he said. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Can you solve it tomorrow if you stay up all night?"

"I don't think so," she admitted.

"Then you must take rest now. If you could solve it in one large stretch of time, I would be in favor of your doing so, but since that is not the case . . ."

"I get you. If I'm in this for the long haul, I need to get rest so I last."

"Indeed."

She stood up. "Good night, Teal'c. Where's the colonel?"

"With the DanielJackson that was left here by the other O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I will go and relieve him now."

"Be nice to Daniel," she said as they parted ways outside her office. "He's very much like our Daniel, I'd imagine."

"I find his illness very . . . disturbing."

"So do I," she said frankly. "Good night, Teal'c."

Not surprisingly, she found Janet in the women's barracks. She took the bed next to her and lay flat on her back, staring at the bunk above her. What was Daniel doing right now?

Reality A001

A loud crash shook Daniel awake and he sat up sharply. The lights came on at full strength, and he saw Jack coming towards him, eyes alight with urgency. Behind him came Lt. Carter with some kind of electrical equipment. Jack grabbed his arm and yanked him out of bed as the door slammed shut behind Carter.

"Hurry up, Carter, get that thing ready!" Jack snapped.

"What's going on?" Daniel asked.

"We have a little problem of communication," Jack said, his voice sharp. "You need to talk these people into letting our team go."

Daniel shook his head, bewildered. "I don't understand," he said.

"It's really very simple, Daniel," Jack said, slamming him down in the desk chair and squatting in front of him. "SG-3 went to P(string). They seemed to be getting on okay with the natives, who've met the Goa'uld, but it's been awhile. Makepeace, like the idiot he is, told them they weren't gods, SG-3, I mean, and I guess there was some talk about them being demons or something. At any rate, there was an earthquake, and now half this tribe wants to burn our people as propitiation or something. Unfortunately, their translator died in the quake. We opened a wormhole to see how they were and they managed to contact us. Now the natives can hear us, and you get to talk them out of it."

"From here?" Daniel exclaimed.

"Carter's getting the equipment set up now." He held up a tape recorder. "Listen to this, it's some of the language they speak."

Daniel listened as Carter quickly put the sound equipment together and hooked it into the base system. It sounded like it was related to one of the Semitic languages.

It took three and a half hours of negotiation, and Daniel was wrung out with exhaustion and tension by the end of it, but he could see on the video from the MALP that Makepeace and two others that he didn't recognize were coming through the gate carrying a fourth man. The wormhole closed behind them, cutting off the transmission.

Sometime during the negotiation, Lt. Carter had procured some coffee. Daniel took a swallow of the steaming hot, bitter liquid and stared unseeing at the blank video screen.

"Good job," Jack said, his hand coming down on Daniel's shoulder. He jumped and looked up apprehensively. "Damn, I wish it hadn't been the translator that died. We have few enough of those, and we don't have anyone who can reliably train more."

Daniel saw Carter stiffen, and he realized that the reason they didn't have anyone to train translators was because they no longer had a Daniel they could trust not to try and escape. He looked down at his hands, worried that O'Neill's thoughts would lead in a direction that might prove damaging to him.

Jack's hand shifted till it was resting against the back of Daniel's neck. "We'll just have to bring you along, won't we?" he said cajolingly. "You can be practical, can't you?" He shook Daniel slightly from side to side. "Can't you?"

"Sure," Daniel said, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Sure, Jack."

"Good." Jack smiled down at him. "Go back to bed."

"Okay, Jack," Daniel said, standing up. Jack grinned at him and ruffled his hair. It nearly made Daniel's heart stop. He managed an answering grin and headed to the bed where he lay down and pulled the covers up, turning his back on the room. There was no way he'd get to sleep anytime soon, but he wasn't going to risk this sudden good mood of O'Neill's by telling him so. He just lay there, listening to Jack chivy at Lt. Carter to get the equipment taken down quicker, so they could leave Daniel in peace.

This sudden alteration of mood was deeply alarming. It hadn't even been twelve hours since this Jack had been knocking him to the floor for fun. And what the hell did he mean about being practical? Did he actually cherish the hope that Daniel would stay here willingly?

Daniel heard the door open and shut again. He rolled over to see if they'd gone and found Jack gazing at him from across the room. "You can sleep in tomorrow morning, but I'll still expect a full day's work out of you," he said.

"Right," Daniel replied apprehensively. "No problem."

Jack crossed over to him and squatted. "It's good to have you back," he said, tousling Daniel's hair again. "Now go to sleep, and that's an order."

Daniel nodded and rolled over again. This time, when the door opened and shut, he didn't turn to look, he just tucked himself down deeper in the bed. He recognized the behavior Jack was exhibiting, and it terrified him even more than if he'd just been a violent son of a bitch. It reminded him of a time in his life he'd just as soon forget. He'd have to watch his step carefully.

He shuddered. His stomach was developing knots that would make it hard for him to eat in the morning.

For a long time he just lay there, trying to still his mind enough to sleep, not daring to get up and try another bath to relax his muscles for fear that Jack would view it as rebellion. Eventually, he dropped off to an uneasy sleep.