Thursday, April 22
Reality A001

Daniel did not sleep well. He kept turning his arm wrong, or banging it on something in his sleep and waking up. The splint was an enormous help, but it didn't protect the arm completely. He finally sat up and ran his fingers through his hair to shove it back from his face. The light was too dim for comfortable reading, but trying to sleep was pointless.

Before he could stop himself, he started totting up the time again in his head. Two and a half weeks now. For two and a half weeks his world had been this room. He looked around at the walls. It was a small world.

His options were limited. He had clear evidence that his activities were, in fact, being monitored, he knew the door had guards on it all the time. He'd listened and he could hear them talking if he pressed his ear against the panel. There was no way out of this room without help from the outside, and neither Samantha nor Jack was likely to help out there. Samantha seemed too cowed by the situation, and Jack . . . he was a different story. The Jack in this universe was clearly one of those abusers who genuinely cared about the person he was abusing. Just as clearly, he'd gone completely crazy. Daniel wasn't sure why, but his fixation on . . . well . . . on Daniels might provide a hint as to the cause.

He ardently wished he had someone to pump for information. And a way to get that information without Hammond, O'Neill and Samantha knowing about it. How had this reality's Daniel died? Kowalski's answer no longer seemed to fit with what he'd learned of the local Jack O'Neill. 'He got a bit unmanageable, and the colonel killed him.' The more he thought about it, the more it seemed calculated to do just what it had done, scare Daniel to death. Vague didn't begin to cover it, he'd provided no specific information at all apart from the fact that this O'Neill was responsible for his Daniel's death.

If that were true, and he had no evidence either way, it could offer a partial explanation for O'Neill's insanity and his obsession with keeping Daniel safe. Those words that Jack had said to him kept replaying themselves in his mind. 'Please. I don't want you to die again! Please!' There had been desperation in that tone. It had been a plea, and since Jack had repeatedly mistaken him for the Daniel from this reality, he had to assume that the plea had been directed toward his Danny.

How had Danny died? Why had Danny died? They weren't the same question, and Daniel had no one to ask. Jack kept getting confused, and Samantha was clearly trying to avoid anything that might tip Jack's mental state into some kind of dangerous collapse. Hammond probably wouldn't tell him the truth.

So he was stuck here, with no information, no one to ask for information, and at the mercy of his captors for food, electricity and water. They could stop any of those things at whim, and there would be nothing he could do about it but beg them to give it back. They might even be able to stop the air. Of the four items, that would be the best to go, he thought grimly. He'd suffer for the shortest amount of time. He shook his head and grimaced. That wasn't a good direction for his thoughts to be taking.

Sitting up, his left arm cradled in his right, he dozed for awhile, never fully asleep, but not really awake. Eventually, the lights came on. He got up and used the bathroom, then contemplated a shower. He'd have to take off the splint which sounded like a very bad idea with no one here to help him get it back on again.

At that moment, the outer door opened. Nervously, Daniel peered around the bathroom door. It was early yet for breakfast, so he wasn't sure who it could be.

"Danny!" called Jack's voice.

Daniel heaved a sigh of relief. Then he paused, blinking in startlement. The day before yesterday that man had battered him around the room, and now he was relieved that it was him? Why? Automatic self analysis provided the answer. Jack cared about him, he'd been trying to get him to do something to avoid being hurt or killed. Hammond just cared about what he produced. It had been as simple as a nod of the head to give the order for Coburn to break his arm. There had been no concern, just a cold fury at being defied.

He walked out into the room. "I'm here," he said.

Jack's eyes lit with something that looked a lot like relief. "God, I was afraid Hammond might have moved you without telling me."

Daniel's eyes widened and he gulped. Great, a new thing to worry about. He took a deep breath. "I really wouldn't like that," he said.

"Of course not," Jack replied, moving closer and putting an arm around his shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Daniel said. "And I need a shower, but I was afraid to take the splint off without someone to help me get it back on again."

"You probably shouldn't take it off," Jack said, brows knitting with concern. "Maybe we can wrap it in plastic or something."

The door opened again and Daniel turned, expecting Samantha. He was not expecting Dr. Warner, or the portable x-ray machine a couple of technicians wheeled in after him. One of the technicians was carrying a large bag, and Daniel had a strong suspicion that it contained everything they needed to build him a cast. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Obviously Hammond was determined to keep him in this room for the foreseeable future.

He closed his eyes and drop his chin to his chest. He'd been hoping that this would at least get him out of this box.

"Dr. Jackson, if you will just come over here and let me get a look at that arm," Dr. Warner said.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Somehow I'm not inclined to trust my medical care to a man who planted a bomb in my chest."

Warner stopped, staring at him. Jack looked slightly stunned, as if he'd never really considered just how the bomb had gotten inside Daniel. Silence reined in the room for a minute, broken only by the techs who were ignoring them as they got the machine hooked up and ready for use.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, Dr. Jackson. I'm the only doctor at the facility right now, and your arm does need seen to."

Jack was now glaring at Warner. "Don't worry, Daniel, I'll be here the whole time." That actually made Daniel feel better. The doctor, on the other hand, looked decidedly nervous about the look he was getting from Jack.

Knowing that his options were limited and that he really did need the arm properly immobilized, Daniel followed the doctor's instructions. It was painful and boring. At first he was going to refuse medication, but then he realized that they didn't have to give it to him in pill form. All they had to do was put it in his food or drink and he'd take it without knowing it. At least this way he'd know he was taking it.

A horrifying thought occurred to him. He hadn't noticed anything odd about his coffee on Saturday when they knocked him out. He could be taking any number of drugs without knowing it. They could be giving him practically anything . . . something addictive, something to make him complacent . . . he shoved that realization down so it wouldn't affect his demeanor in any way.

Warner x-rayed his arm and confirmed what he already knew, that both bones were broken cleanly. Coburn was an expert at his calling, evidently. Daniel gulped and tried not to let his reaction show. It did make it a relatively simple thing to set and cast, though, which was a mercy. The bones weren't out of alignment at all, so it was simply a matter of wrapping the cast.

When it was done, Daniel had a cast that stretched from his palm to halfway up his upper arm and a nice blue and white sling to support it. Warner handed Jack a bottle and said, "He should get one pill with each meal to control pain." Daniel's lips tightened with irritation. Of course they wouldn't give the pills to him directly. He might do something crazy, like take them all at once.

"Right, doctor," Jack said. "Anything else you need to tell Daniel?" There was a subtle emphasis on the name, and Warner flushed.

Turning to Daniel, he said, "I'm going to order limited working hours for the next week. You've suffered a trauma, and healing requires rest."

Daniel looked up at him apprehensively. "How limited?" he asked.

"No more than six hours a day for the next week, and I think you should have the rest of today off."

"To do what?" Daniel asked incredulously, looking around the room. Warner looked stymied.

"I'll go get a TV and some movies," Jack said. Daniel looked up at him eyes wide. "Maybe I can get Carter to take some time off, too."

"Jack?" Daniel said. "I don't think Hammond will be okay with that."

"I'll take care of Hammond, Daniel, don't you worry." Jack seemed supremely confident, but two years with his own Jack made Daniel an expert at reading the signs. If his Jack and this Jack had anything in common, he wasn't at all certain that he could 'take care' of Hammond. "So, Dr. Warner, is there anything else?"

"I don't believe so, sir," Warner said.

The door opened and Daniel looked up, half expecting to find Hammond swelling with anger. Instead it was Samantha, who looked very surprised to see the large group of people in the room. She held a tray with eggs and bacon and toast. Warner quickly made excuses and left, trailing technicians and equipment behind him.

Jack put a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "You just had one of those pills from Warner, didn't you?" Daniel nodded. "Good, then I'll be back shortly. Carter, Daniel's not to work today. Stay with him and keep him entertained."

He left and Samantha put the tray down, eyes wide. "What did he mean by that?"

"Warner wants me to take today off," Daniel said. "Jack said he'd take care of Hammond." He wasn't reassured to see that she was as apprehensive as he was. She smoothed her reaction away so quickly that he might not have seen it had he not been watching.

"Well, you certainly need to eat your breakfast before anything else," she said briskly and settled down next to him.

"Right," he said slowly and he looked down at the food. It wasn't appealing at the moment. The thought that they might be drugging him through his food was an effective appetite suppressant, but it wasn't as if he could stop eating and drinking. If he tried, they'd probably do something drastic, and that was not something he needed to court.

He tried to keep up a light conversation with Samantha without much luck. After awhile, she stopped talking and they sat silently while he ate. Jack was gone the better part of forty-five minutes, so they played chess when he finished breakfast. She won twice.

"Daniel, are you okay?" she asked.

"Sorry, Samantha, I –" He was saved from having to answer by the door opening. Jack came in fairly radiating anger. Daniel froze.

"Carter, you're going to have to go back to work. Hammond wants to see some of the results from your experiments today."

"Yes sir," she said and left quickly, taking the empty tray with her.

Jack turned towards Daniel who waited apprehensively for what he was going to say. His eyes were narrow, his expression stern. "Daniel, you have the day off, and Warner's orders stand as far as your work schedule goes," he said harshly. Daniel blinked. The tone and the words didn't seem to match. Jack went on, his voice hard, his expression distant. "You're not to work more than six hours a day, but those six hours had better be productive." This was sounding rather a lot like Hammond's orders, and Daniel wondered how that meeting had gone. He couldn't ask, though.

"Yes Jack," Daniel said.

"I'll have some airmen bring you a television with a VCR and some movies." Jack crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Someone will bring you lunch later on. It won't be me or Lt. Carter, Hammond says he has better uses for our time."

"So, is that from now on?" Daniel asked nervously. "Won't I see you anymore?"

Jack grinned tightly. "No, I'll be back with dinner. Just . . . during the day he wants us to do our own work."

"I see," Daniel said. "That makes sense."

"So, I'd better get going now," Jack said. He walked over and squeezed Daniel's shoulders instead, though. "Everything's going to be okay, Danny."

Daniel closed his eyes and swallowed. There were minefields all over the place today. "I know, Jack," he said. "I know you'll take care of things."

"I always do, don't I, Danny?"

Fortunately, this didn't seem to require a reply. Jack squeezed once more and left the room. Daniel felt very shaky. He guessed that Jack had just pushed his luck with Hammond and gotten told off. He wondered if and how soon he would get a visit from Hammond himself. He'd just as soon never see that Hammond again, but he didn't think he was that lucky.

Warner had left behind a device that permitted him to shower without wetting the cast, so he put it on and took a shower. It was decidedly awkward with one arm out of commission. While he was getting cleaned up, the outer door opened. He ignored it, hoping it was just the airmen with the television. After awhile the door opened and closed again, so he assumed that was the case. He got himself dressed in pajama pants and a black t-shirt, since they were the easiest to put on without using both hands. Buttons would take some effort, and since he wasn't working today, he hoped that wouldn't be a problem.

He walked out into the main room and stopped dead. Hammond was there. So was Berman. So was the TV. They had evidently entered at roughly the same time. To his relief, Coburn wasn't present. Daniel wet his lips nervously, wondering what was expected.

"Please, Dr. Jackson, come and sit down," Hammond said, gesturing at the guest chair.

Daniel didn't move immediately, and Hammond raised an eyebrow eloquently, glancing at the cast on Daniel's arm. He set his jaw and walked to the chair. Sitting down, he said, "Good morning, general."

"Good morning." There was a pause and Daniel looked over at the tray that contained the coffee carafe and several cups. "Can I offer you some coffee, sir?"

"I would like that very much," Hammond said, smiling.

His teeth clenched, Daniel stood up again, because neither the tray nor the carafe was easily reached from where he was sitting. He poured two cups of coffee one-handed and looked up. "Would you like cream or sugar?" he asked.

"No, thank you, Dr. Jackson." Daniel carried the cup around to the general then went back for his own, finally sitting back down. They both drank and then Hammond cleared his throat. "I told you we'd have a few little talks about my expectations." Daniel nodded. "Since you're not working today, due to your injury, I thought now would be a good opportunity."

"That makes sense," he said.

"I'm glad you agree," Hammond said with a malicious smile. Daniel shivered, and his breakfast was seriously contemplating coming up. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are proving to be a very productive translator, when you're not indulging in tantrums, that is."

"Thank you," Daniel said. What else could he say? I don't think being angry because you put a bomb inside me could be termed a tantrum. I want to go back to my own reality. My Jack is going to show up and eat you for lunch. None of those seemed like great options.

"Now, I mentioned the fact that I would be sending you on offworld assignments." Daniel nodded. "I understand that you will have certain objections to our more aggressive tactics for acquiring alien technology, but you will have to repress those objections. I don't know how the SGC was run where you come from, and frankly I don't care. I expect my teams to go out there and get the technology, whatever it takes, and that includes extreme measures."

Daniel blinked. "Extreme measures? Would that mean sneaking in at night and stealing the stuff?" He knew perfectly well what Hammond meant, he just wanted the man to come out and say it.

Hammond smiled. "It could. I was actually thinking more along the lines of killing the inhabitants and taking what we need, but theft would be an option in a more technologically advanced culture, or in one where our numbers are grossly outmatched."

Daniel felt his insides contract. "Are you saying that killing is the preferred option?"

Hammond's smile broadened into an extraordinarily creepy grin. "That's where you come in, Dr. Jackson. If you can persuade the natives of whatever world you're on to part with their technology without contest, then we won't have to kill anybody."

"I see." Daniel put his cup down and clenched his right fist in his lap.

"So, I'm sure I can expect nothing less that your strongest effort on any and all missions I send you on, right, Dr. Jackson?"

"Of course, sir," Daniel said, feeling stunned and numb. Don't put any pressure on me or anything, he thought unhappily.

"I'll let you absorb that information for awhile and then we'll have another little talk," Hammond said, standing up. Daniel stood as well. "I had the airmen set up the TV so you could watch it from your bed. I hope that's all right with you."

"Yes sir, thank you, sir," Daniel said.

"Good boy," Hammond replied, that creepy grin still in place as he left the room. Daniel collapsed back into his chair and buried his face in his hand. What was he going to do?