Per Ardua ad Astra (through adversity to the stars)

Did you ever have one of those moments where everything becomes clear in a single instant, and even a lifetime of things that don't seem to add up suddenly mark out a path as clear as a runway?

Everything - everything - became clear to me in that instant in the supply room. I admit, I'd been angry up to that point, thinking Daniel was just being an idiot, trying to patch his broken heart by giving in to Shyla's somewhat besotted attentions. You don't leave your teammates to suffer, that's just a given. So when I asked him if he was trying to kill me and he shouted "You're trying to kill me," well I just didn't have an answer for him because at that moment I was interested in doing him bodily harm.

But when I asked it again, after we fought and Daniel was on the floor next to the doorway, with the gun pointed right at me, when I asked him again "Are you going to shoot me?" and he looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about - and at that moment I understood everything all at once.

When we were trapped on P-whatever with that lousy 'Keeper' making us relive two of the most horrendous moments in our lives, and I hollered at the Keeper, asking him why he thought I'd want to see my friends get their heads blown off, Daniel added "or their parents killed".

Their parents. He didn't say 'my parents.'

Maybe I would've thought about it more if the moment I'd been forced to relive was losing Charlie. It seems the Keeper was going by length of time of memories, not intensity. Though for Daniel, I'm sure it's both.

Though for Daniel, I'm sure it's not just losing his parents that eats away at him.

When the Keeper made him relive his parents' deaths, he got to maybe try all the different ways of saving them that he'd probably fantasized about his whole life – and none of them worked. No matter what, he couldn't save them.

There's something sustaining in believing you could've changed history. If nothing else, you can blame yourself for the rest of your life that if only you'd been older, stronger, smarter, faster, better, whatever, you wouldn't have suffered the way you did.

As though if you could only be better now, that suffering never would've happened then.

So what did we do? Right after P-whatever and Daniel with adult eyes seeing his parents die over and over again, we gate to Shyla's planet. Daniel – still filled with that lifelong need to save somebody – grabs Shyla before she takes a header off the cliff, an event which gets us into trouble in the first place.

Then down in the mine, he gets buried in a pile of rock. He probably thought he deserved dying the way his parents did because he couldn't save them. He blames himself for Sha'are, for Skaara. He lost his wife, his home, and the only family he's probably known since he left foster care, and every planet we don't find Sha'are on only makes it worse. If a few trips in a sarcophagus could make all that pain go away – why wouldn't he let himself be "forced" into it?

But I never thought about it until that moment.

"What are you going to do Daniel? Are you going to shoot me?" A valid question I think, since the gun was practically at my nose. I thought he was going to say not if I left him alone, or not if I took him to the Stargate, or maybe even he'd say yes.

"Are you going to shoot me?"

And his eyes got wide. With the gun in his hand pointed right at me, he had no idea why I thought he might kill me. He even shook his head slightly. He had no idea.

That's when it hit me. He didn't want to kill me, he didn't even really want to go back to Shyla. He just wanted all the pain and grief and regrets to stop. He'd convinced himself that he loved Shyla as the excuse to stay on the planet with the sarcophagus. Like an alcoholic who drinks to forget and then has to stay drunk to keep forgetting, Daniel just wanted the pain to stop even if it meant destroying himself in the sarcophagus.

In a lot of ways, Daniel is still a kid, no matter how long he's been grown up. Being a kid, he thought he was the only one who's ever felt this way about his life, that it was suddenly too painful to bear. That's why he broke out of the restraints and attacked anybody who tried to stop him. And why not? His whole life is a track record of not fitting in, of being an outsider. Why think it would be any different now? Why not assume no one else would understand?

But I understood it. I knew pretty well how you can get addicted to the idea that you can dose your pain away, even more than you can get addicted to the actual substance you dose yourself with. I know that, I understand that. But Daniel had no idea.

So I told him.

"I know what this is. I know what it's like."

Again, I got the wide eyed disbelief. Either he didn't believe I knew what it was, or he didn't want to believe. I knew that too – sometimes you don't want to share your pain or believe it's as bad for other people. If I'd been less of a jerk about that, my wife might never have left me. But I knew what it was and dammit all if I was going to let Daniel get lost in it the way I'd tried.

"We can get through this." I whispered that. Daniel probably had enough noise going on inside his head, he didn't need me yelling at him, even if I'd be yelling a good thing.

Finally, what I said made sense to him, or at least got through to him. He started shaking. He started crying. He brought his hand up to cover his face, but he still wasn't staying upright, and he had to put it down again for a second to balance himself.

It's not that I didn't expect Daniel to break down; he was strung so tight it was either that or throw a seizure. I just wasn't expecting it to be so overwhelming. He didn't even look like himself he was so far gone.

Finally the tension left him and he slumped forward, an unspoken way of surrendering. I could've done anything then and I knew Daniel wouldn't resist. I could yell at him, haul him back to the infirmary, I could've probably whacked him a good one for being an idiot and he wouldn't have resisted one bit. He was just sobbing into his hand, eyes shut, he hadn't even let go of the gun.

He didn't need blame, he didn't need 'I told you so.' He just needed to know everything would be okay, he would get through this, he would survive.

So after I made sure the gun was out of his hand and out of the way, I put my arms around him and held onto him. That was what he needed. Violent people are scared, that's why they're violent. They need to know they're safe. Daniel needed to know he was safe, he needed to know that he hadn't absolutely ruined everything. I mean, this is Daniel. He feels bad if he gets irritated and it shows in his voice. Imagine what this was going to do to him.

I also just wanted to hold him. He'd been walking through hell for over a year now, with no complaints, barely a word about what was going on inside of him. Whatever happens, he just picks himself up and keeps going and I never really realized till now how much it must've taken out of him each time. The way he was sobbing now broke my heart. I just wanted to hold onto him and let him know everything would be okay.

That made me wonder - when was the last time I asked him if he was okay? It used to be a pretty standard question. We'd be finishing a mission, either just arrived back through the Stargate, or just about to walk through, and Daniel would be standing there bleeding his soul out through his eyes because he'd missed his chance with Sha'are by a hair, or we hadn't found any sign of her at all, and I'd ask him, 'are you okay?'

Teal'c no doubt would say, "I see no blood on Daniel-Jackson." But I could see it. Anybody could see it if they looked. Daniel never has a thought in his mind or in his heart that doesn't show up on his face as clearly as if it was typed on a blank piece of paper. I don't have to see tears to know he's crying, and I don't need to see blood to know he's wounded.

So I'd ask him if he was okay, not because I couldn't see it on his face, but because I needed to hear his answer. You learn in the military to gauge a person's answer, not by whether it's really true or false, but whether it's true or false to them. I've seen an airman whine about a blister when he had to walk to his dresser for a clean pair of socks, and I've seen an airman with his leg blown off give a 'thumbs up' as he's being loaded onto a medevac chopper.

When he's got the blister you can ask him if he wants a wheelchair and a Purple Heart. When his leg's blown off, you ask him why he's lying around when there's work to be done.

It doesn't matter what I think, it matters what he thinks.

When was the last time I asked Daniel if he was okay?

I started to rock him, it was instinct more than anything else. There are all kinds of grief and this was the kind that needed the full response. It was like the time Charlie's pet turtle died and Charlie thought it was his fault because he hadn't said goodbye to the thing that morning before school or something. I mean he was only in Kindergarten. And maybe he was having a bad day anyway. But there was just no consoling him and I held him and rocked him all night that night.

So now I rocked Daniel because he had that same grief of guilt built up inside him and words weren't going to do him much good because he was too far gone to hear anything anyway. He'd been hearing words for a couple of days now, strapped to a bed and pumped full of sedatives. Those words hadn't done him any good, he needed something much more basic. So I kept one hand on the back of his head and rubbed his back with the other hand because touch is soothing. I read that on an herbal tea box I think. Anyway it seemed like a good idea.

The door burst open then – Teal'c in the lead no doubt. The depth of his concern for us amazes me sometimes. He doesn't give it out of a sense of obligation or guilt. As a matter of fact he doesn't give it at all. It just is. Like on the prison planet we were on, El Dente or whatever it was, and that guy tried to touch Daniel, and Teal'c picked him up by his neck. God help anybody who touched anyone of SG1. Teal'c would tear them limb from limb. And he'd probably smile while he did it.

Anyway, when the door opened, I could feel Daniel hold his breath. I'd warned him the guards were coming - you know, back a few minutes before when I was really pissed at him. I would've let the guards haul him back to the infirmary bodily then, kicking and screaming if necessary.

But not now. I had to protect him now.

He didn't know that though, so he held his breath and tensed, waiting to be hauled away.

I told Teal'c that we were fine and give us some time and they left again and Daniel let out one really pent up sob against my shoulder. Relief maybe that nobody was going to hurt him. I don't know. I just held him tighter and kept rocking. I knew this could take a while. It'd been building for twenty years after all.

It did take a while but he stopped crying. He coughed and I asked him if he was OK and he said no. I told him everything would be OK. Then he started crying again, quieter. Not like he'd run out of energy, more like he found something different to cry about. I'm sure he did, he's got a lot going on in his mind all at the same time.

That crying stopped too and I asked him if he was okay, and he asked me to keep rocking him, so I did. I was glad that it was okay that I was holding him. Normally he seems so closed off, physically. I mean, except for Sha'are, I can't think of a single time when I've seen Daniel initiate physical contact with another person. I thought he might be embarrassed too, but there's no reason to be. I've been in the aftermath of combat where guys as big and bad as Teal'c have lost it. Daniel's not the first teammate I've had to comfort, but he is the most – I was going to say fragile but he's not. He's the most resilient person I've ever met. But he is the most – I don't know what. I don't know what word I'm looking for. Maybe it is because he's usually so resilient that seeing him break down like this really worried me.

I always keep an eye out for Daniel. He may not always like it, he may not even always notice, but I do. Like in El Dente. I sent Daniel with Teal'c because of the four of us I thought Daniel was the most likely to get into trouble and the least likely to defend himself other than verbally. Talk isn't worth much in prison. And didn't he end up pissing off Gargantua?

And Daniel has got the most gentle soul I know of. He might get his head handed to him, he might get zatted or ribboned or – or Hathored - but I worry more about his soul than I do his body.

Maybe something with Shyla resurrected some memories of Hathor. That would be bad too. He was going to have a lot to sort through when he was clear of this withdrawal.

Just when I thought he was going to fall asleep there on my shoulder – which would've been okay – suddenly he sat up and pushed me away. I guessed some other memory had surfaced. I asked him what was wrong but he kept saying he was sorry and he was fine. Well, I had no doubt he felt sorry but no way was he fine.

He was brushing at his eyes and just about blinding himself with the one restraint he hadn't removed, so I made a show of getting it off of him, checking his feet in case we'd fought through the broken glass. I figured he might need a minute or two to get his thoughts and his resiliency back on track.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Again.

Again, he was sorry, he was okay, he was sorry. Then he was fine and he wanted to go back to the infirmary. Now I knew for an absolute fact that he didn't want to go back there. He was still crying, not sobbing, but I could see tears still rolling down his face and I got the feeling that it was bothering him. So, to give us both another couple of minutes, I told him to hang on and I went to get him some Kleenex.

I picked up the gun as I stood up. I trust Daniel, but I'm not an idiot.

He looked at the box of Kleenex like he didn't know what it was. Finally though he actually smiled and said thanks. Thanks, send more was what he said. He even laughed, and I laughed too just because he did, and I sat on the floor in front of him.

Then he said he was sorry. Again. For trying to shoot me. Well, he might be a civilian but even in his current sorry state, even he wouldn't have aimed so high if he meant to hit me. I'm sure he was yelling enough at himself about doing that so I didn't need to add to his guilt. I just made a joke about him mistaking me for a light fixture because I'm so bright. And he laughed again. It was good to hear that. But when he asked if I was mad at him I wasn't about to pussyfoot around.

I told him straight out damn right I was angry with him, risking getting hurt even worse when all we were doing was trying to take care of him. I said he should trust us. As soon as I said it though, I knew the answer. He doesn't trust us. Daniel doesn't trust anyone easily.

Oh, he'd let me use his car or he'd leave money on his desk without worrying about it. I know he trusts me with his life whenever we're on a mission. Sometimes I think he might trust me too much. Like when we were on Apophis's ship, trying to stop him invading earth. We ducked in somewhere to hide from the snake heads. I had my knife in the doorway, keeping a peephole, watching for a break, and I heard Daniel ask, "Jack – what's going on?"

I mean, we're on a Goauld ship, Teal'c is right there, I'm looking the other way, and he asks me what's going on?

But when it comes to his own hurts, his own needs, when it comes to anything personal, Daniel does not trust easily. He didn't battle his way out of the infirmary because Fraiser put him in restraints, he did it because he thought nobody was looking out for him. He might trust me to watch his back in a fire fight, but he didn't trust me to care about him.

So he said he was sorry. Again. For hurting Dr. Fraiser. For attacking his guard.

Well I was sure Janet had already forgiven him, and the guard might have a headache for a few days but I think Daniel had done as much damage to his own hand as he had to the guard.

Finally we got to the crux of the matter: Daniel admitted that he was scared and angry and afraid that he was dying and nobody cared. That's why he broke free and ran. Because he thought he was going to die without anyone caring.

Of course Daniel – being Daniel – tried to rationalize it by pointing out how he'd left us down in the mine without really caring what we were going through. Well, I was still mad at him about that so I just stepped over it and asked him if he still thought we didn't care.

Daniel – being Daniel – couldn't answer it untruthfully and apparently wouldn't answer it truthfully. So he hedged with 'I don't know'. Then he allowed that it might not be the best answer, and I agreed with him. Give him a Mayan temple with one pot and a fire pit and he can not only tell you what folks had for supper four thousand years ago, he can tell you why they had it. But ask him to come clean on his own emotions and he can't.

So I told him I understood, he's been having a hard time, after all. Like I said, I think seeing his parents die again – and again – affected him more than he let on. We still hadn't found Sha'are and having Shyla there more than willing and ready might've been too much even for Daniel to resist. I know he was worried about us being down in the mine, well at least that first day he was. And I'm sure he was beating himself up about it now. So he was just having a hard time and I told him I understood.

You know what? He yelled at me.

Daniel yelled at me.

Here I'm trying to be a stand-up guy and a friend and make him feel better by telling him I understand and he yells at me that I shouldn't be trying to make him feel better after everything he did.

Everything he did.

You know, for somebody as generous and humble and unassuming as Daniel usually is, sometimes he can be the most self-centered person I've ever met. Especially when there's an extra helping of guilt to be had, Daniel always has to have it.

Not that he does it in that fake 'I'll pretend to take the blame so that everyone will tell me I'm not at fault' way some people have. Daniel truly believes he's at fault. He truly believes that in the great list of good and bad, his column adds up heavy under the 'bad.' And he doesn't know how anyone could forgive him for that. For everything that he did.

"And how can you think I don't care about you after everything I've done?" I had to ask him.

Not even counting sitting here with him when not fifteen minutes ago he was holding a gun on me, what about this whole past year and a half? Did he think I asked him all the time how he was doing just to make conversation? What did he think all the coffee and lunches and late night talks were about? Didn't he know that I care? Didn't that ever once occur to him?

Guess not, judging from the look he gave me after I asked him. He stared at me like I was a pictogram sitting where he didn't expect to find me. Like I was familiar but somehow out of context.

All of a sudden he started to cry again. He grabbed some more Kleenex and cried into them and I wondered what I'd done, if I made him remember something painful or what was going on. So I asked him and he said he was OK, he was just an idiot and I told him he's not.

OK, I told him he is, but if I told him he's not he wouldn't believe me anyway.

Anyway I got a smile out of him, so it was worth it.

I thought maybe it was time to get him back to the infirmary. If we took too much longer I don't think even Teal'c would be able to keep Fraiser out of here.

But you know, it's damn hard to get Daniel to move when he has to catalogue his guilt before he'll get to his feet. This time, it was Teal'c. He remembered fighting Teal'c. Well, really, Teal'c startled Daniel. Sort of. And if you think about it, Daniel bodily throwing anybody anywhere, much less Teal'c, is quite a feat. But Daniel was already on to General Hammond and fortunately he hadn't done anything worse than be short with him. Which – truth be told – Daniel has been known to be short with the General when he's not under the influence of a mind altering substance.

I held off reminding him of that and asked him if he thought he could stand. I didn't think he could, but I wanted to give him the chance. But he didn't think so either so I called Teal'c. I knew he was standing right outside that door and he was. He was in the door almost before I finished saying his name.

Some people might think – in fact, some people have said – that Teal'c protects Daniel especially because of his involvement with Sha'are's abduction, but I know that's not it. We're teammates, we're family. If Teal'c puts an extra spin on the care he takes of Daniel it's because Daniel –

It's not because Daniel is reckless or thoughtless or stupid about his own safety. He's just got that trusting, need-to-help, give-them-a-chance innocence about him.

Like I said, zat him, blast him, Hathor him, he picks himself up and goes on. But harm his spirit and you've done real damage to him. Not that we'd prefer physical damage, or any damage at all. It's just that on a team you know each other's strengths and weaknesses and you compensate for them.

So as soon as Teal'c opened the door I asked him to get a wheelchair. Daniel didn't think he could walk and anyway he was barefoot in broken glass. That wouldn't be good.

"I'm sorry," he says. Again. I bet Daniel knows how to say that in every language across the galaxy.

Anyway, I helped him stand up, and he says he can walk. I don't think so, Danny. My Dad always said if you get cut on fluorescent glass, it never heals. No way am I earning Fraiser's wrath for that.

So, we stood there and waited for his ride. I had my arm around him, keeping him upright, and he had that box of Kleenex folded in his arms like he was hugging a stuffed animal. He'd left a small pile of used Kleenex on the floor behind him, but that's what the government pays our Maintenance staff for.

Teal'c came back in with a wheelchair and Daniel ducked his head so far so fast I thought he'd give himself whiplash. God, Daniel, what's gone on in the rest of your life? The only times I've ever ducked my head the way he does all the time is when I think I'm about to get whacked. And it's sure never happened enough times to make it an automatic gesture with me.

"We're all friends Daniel," I tell him. I shouldn't need to tell him but I do. I want him to say 'I know', I want him to say something, but he doesn't and I have to give him a little push to start walking to the wheelchair.

When Teal'c asks him if he needs help I can almost feel Daniel jump out of his skin. He just about hollers 'no' and Teal'c gives me one of those eyebrow-up questioning glances. I just shake my head. This goes deeper than Shyla and her love machine and I almost don't want to know all the hurt that's jumping around inside Daniel's head just now. Teal'c backs off and I almost have to physically put Daniel in the chair.

All of a sudden I feel exhausted. How long has it been? A year? A year and a half since we started planet hopping? Each time, Daniel goes through the Gate believing we'll find Sha'are this time. Each time he comes back through the Gate believing we'll find Sha'are next time. And why does he believe that? Because I told him so. I told him so and he believes me like a kid who doesn't know grown-ups can be wrong a lot of the time.

Suddenly, I feel exhausted and really old.

I bent down to help him get his feet on the foot pedals. When I straightened up Daniel was staring at me. "I'm sorry." Again. I told him we'd talk about it later, I just wanted to get him safe and sound. But you know something? I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted Daniel to get it. Things went wrong, he's sorry, he's forgiven - but he wouldn't let go of it.

He said "Okay," but he was lying. I knew he was lying and I think he knew I knew. It wasn't OK with him, and I knew he didn't want to go back to the infirmary and the restraints. And he didn't want to go forward into a world I'm pretty sure that he was pretty sure no longer wanted him. So I told him again that we could get through this. We could get through it, if he'd only trust me. But that was going to be a tough sell.

He kept his head down and I pushed the wheelchair out of the closet and back to his room. Teal'c told us the hallways were clear and I bet he'd managed to clear them without saying a word. And he said Carter was getting the room ready again. Good. Maybe Daniel would lie down and go to sleep without a fuss. Both of us needed a rest.

Daniel made the whole short trip with his head down. I never knew anybody who found his own feet so fascinating. Well, OK, there was that one guy in college, but he also had frequent conversations with Abraham Lincoln so we're not going to count him.

Carter was in the room with a nurse. When she saw Daniel, she came toward him with that look on her face - that big sister needs to comfort her little brother look. He didn't need that. He didn't need to be told that things were bad but they would get better. Daniel needed to know that things were OK now. He didn't need to be coddled, he needed to be treated normally, and that was what I planned to do.

So when Carter started to talk to Daniel, I cut her off with a "I can handle it from here," kind of remark. I thought she was going to fight me on it, and I know the nurse wasn't happy, but I outrank them so they had to listen. Carter still managed to slip in a quick "It's OK." but they both left. Daniel didn't lift his head until the door shut.

His eyes went to the bed first. Looking for the restraints I figured. But there weren't any here right now. Daniel looked so young sitting there in the wheelchair, so hurt and vulnerable, with his red eyes and redder nose. I knew that if I told him, "OK kid, you're on your own," and walked out of there, he'd find a way to justify it based on his own shortcomings. It would be OK to be abandoned because he deserved it.

I knew he was scared, I knew he was exhausted, ashamed, weighed down with sedatives and coming off his adrenaline high. I knew how he felt. So, in true military fashion, I asked him how he was doing.

First he didn't know how he was doing, then the scientist in him took over and I got a laundry list of his emotional and physical state. He added one I hadn't thought of - he was hungry. Even he sounded surprised to realize it. Thank God, something I could take care of right away. And really, getting some food into him would probably take care of some of his other general ailments.

I told him to get changed and I'd get him some food. There were PJ's on the bed and a convenient washroom so I helped him up out of the wheelchair. He walked like an old man. And he still had a death grip on those Kleenex. I had a hockey stick once that I slept with all the time. You know, until Sarah complained. Anyway, I didn't like having it out of my sight. I wondered what significance Kleenex had for Daniel beyond the obvious.

When he was safely stowed in the washroom, I popped the door into the hallway to ask Carter - and I knew she'd be there with Teal'c - to get Daniel some food, something easy to chew, that would be easy on stomach that'd been empty for who knew how long. And I told her to be sure to include Jell-O. And not to include any sharp utensils.

She asked how he was doing, I said he'd be OK. Then she asked - because there would be no way of stopping her - about the shot fired in the storage room. Great - ask me about it before I had a chance to decide how to phrase it in my report.

"He was scared and he didn't want me to see him, so he shot out the light," I told them. Carter nodded but she didn't look like she believed me. She didn't believe her commanding officer. I'm hurt. But she went off to the commissary.

Teal'c stood unmoving and unmoveable at the door. It was pretty clear that he wanted to say something. I could tell because - because - well, you just have to understand the sutbleties of his facial expressions. I looked at him and he said, "Even a warrior spirit can bear only so much."

Well yes, that's true. But Daniel not only has a warrior's spirit, he has a survivor's soul. The little I know of his life, he's needed it. I told Teal'c again that Daniel would be OK. "He has us."

I went back into the room to wait for the food and keep an ear on Daniel. He had the water running. If we'd been at home I would've encouraged him to take a nice long hot bath, but we only have showers here on base, and there's no way Daniel's strength would've lasted standing that long.

After not too long, Carter was back with a tray of food. I think she was disappointed that Daniel wasn't in the room. He still had the water running in the bathroom. I think she wanted to stay but that wouldn't do Daniel any good. He didn't need, 'how are you doing?' and 'can I do anything for you' or any kind of nonsense like that. He needed to be told that wrong is wrong and right is right and - well, you know. He didn't need to be coddled.

"Don't be too hard on him, sir," she said. Hard? Me? Me be hard on Daniel? If I was ever hard on Daniel, the entire SGC would be down on my neck, from General Hammond to Siler. Me, be hard on Daniel?

It occurred to me that the only person who wouldn't be hard on me for being hard on Daniel was Daniel himself.

"I'll be hard on him if he needs it," I told her. She nodded and left. Almost as soon as the door shut behind her, the washroom door opened. There Daniel stood, Kleenex box in one hand and socks in the other. First thing, his eyes went to the bed. Still expecting those restraints. When he didn't see any, he looked up at me, then down at the table with the tray of food on it. He seemed confused.

Seems to me a person's life must really suck when good things confuse them.

He hadn't been wearing socks when Fraiser restrained him before and I wondered if that's why he hadn't put them on now. Because he feet were freezing when I checked them out in the storage room. I offered to help him get the socks on but he sat on the bed and did it himself.

When I moved the table in front of him he saw the spoon - the single utensil on the whole tray. I told him I didn't want him poking his eye with a fork. What I didn't tell him was that I didn't want him poking anything of mine out with a fork either, if he got agitated again. There's a lot of drugs out there that'll come back and haunt you, even if all you ever took was one hit. I didn't know if sarcophagi had the same boomerang effect but I wasn't going to take the chance.

He seemed to believe me though, and he started to eat. He said the eggs were good and I took the credit and he smiled again. I tell you, a smile is a wonderful thing to see on someone who you nearly put on suicide watch a half hour before. Then he said thanks for the Jell-O. I told him about withdrawal.

Oops.

Hearsay naturally.

Daniel didn't seem to catch my slip. He didn't know he was going through withdrawal. What did he think? He was suffering physical, emotional, and psychological breakdowns. What did he think that was?

Well - this is Daniel. He thought he was being a jerk.

OK, there's that too. But a lot of it was just outside his control. I hadn't exactly been in my happy place since coming back from that planet.

OK, another mistake. When you want Daniel to rest, don't - I repeat don't - give him a problem to solve. He starts right in with wondering if naquada makes people cranky. I'm wanting him to talk about the withdrawal and what and who he's withdrawing from. He's saying how he had more naquada pumped into his system but we were pretty close to it down in the mine. I'm interested in getting him to see how he's grieving Sha'are, he's interested in conducting a study on the effects of naquada on a person's mood.

After saying his name to him like a thousand times, Daniel finally responds with one of his patented 'you're interrupting my train of thought to express your limited view on the situation because…?' replies all bundled up into "Jack?"

Only Daniel can pack a pound of insubordination into an ounce of words. If he was military he'd never get away with that. If he wasn't my friend I wouldn't know that what he was actually doing was trying to avoid where I wanted the conversation to go. I said as much to him. I told him I didn't think the worst thing he was going through was physical withdrawal. He knew what I was talking about but he made believe he didn't.

I gave him an eyebrow that I think would've made Teal'c proud.

He blurts out that he didn't love Shyla. Well, of course he didn't love her, anybody could see that. Even the couple of hours I got to see Daniel with Sha'are I knew that she was his heart and his soul and every reason he ever survived right up until the moment he met her. No matter if some plain jane in a prom dress bats her eyelashes and drugs you silly, love like that never dies, never wears out, never ends. Of course he loves Sha'are.

So I told him - wondering if I'd get yelled at this time - that I understood. His heart now and forever belongs to Sha'are. Frankly, after Hathor and Shyla, Daniel's heart I think is the only part of him still untouched.

He says that he only wanted to save those people in slavery down in the naquada mines. Welllllll - there's a lot of things I could say about the effort he expended to get his friends out of there, I don' t know that those other people stood any kind of a quick chance out.

I thought then about the similarities between Sha'are and Shyla are. Both are the daughters of the chief of their nation, both have people in slavery, both had eyes for Daniel. The differences though - Sha'are shared the slavery of her people and defied her father to help us fight Ra, and she loved Daniel body and soul. Shyla only seemed interested in Daniel's body. She sure didn't seem to care what she was doing to his soul.

So I told him I know that he loves Sha'are. Of course I know that. Daniel's eyes started to tear up and I wanted to tell him again that everything would be OK but the door opened then and Fraiser came in.

Complete with a new set of restraints.

Daniel went so pale so fast I thought he was going to pass out. Nope, he did not want those restraints. Not that I blamed him, and if it was up to me I think I'd pass on them. But it wasn't up to me.

Then all of a sudden, it was up to me. Daniel looked straight at me and asked me if he needed them. Why ask me? I don't want to be the one to make that decision. But Daniel was asking me. Why was he asking me?

It hit me all at once.

Because he trusted me.

Oh, for crying out loud.

If I said he goes back in the restraints, he'd accept it and believe it was because he was a danger to other people, and worse - a nuisance. If I said he didn't go in the restraints, he'd still think he was a danger and a nuisance, whether he said it out loud or not. So I had to let him see that if he needed the restraints, if I thought he needed them, it was actually a good thing.

But I really didn't think he needed them. Standing there at the bedside, I didn't see a man who was a danger to himself or anybody else. I saw a sad, confused, lonely, frightened man who would let the world beat on him because he hadn't learned yet that he was worth anything else. I guess he never even learned it from me.

So I walked him through it.

Why did he need the restraints before?

Because he was a danger to other people.

No. For crying out loud Daniel. Because you were so agitated you were a danger to yourself.

Next question, was he planning on being a danger to himself from here on out?

He answered down to his hands, 'no'.

Was he planning on being a danger to anybody else?

'No,' down to his hands again.

Does he have any plans for the next day or so?

'Sleep.'

Good. About damn time, too. Of course Daniel - being Daniel - no doubt thought I was leading up to the part where he got restrained again. Surprise, surprise, Daniel. No, I don't think you need the restraints. He gave me such a look of relief and disbelief I almost gave him another hug.

Of course, I had to tell him that I wasn't leaving the room, just in case he needed the restraints later, but really I just wanted him – and Fraiser – to know that I wasn't leaving the room, I wasn't leaving him alone.

Once he started to process that bit of information, I gave Fraiser a go to have a look at him. I told her to especially look at his hands. I wanted to ask her about the guard, but not in front of Daniel.

She wrapped Daniel's hands, did all that doctor stuff she does to make sure he didn't keel over dead before she declared him fit to sleep. Daniel couldn't look at her while she worked, though he kept shooting glances up at her. He was sorry he hurt her, God he was so sorry and he wanted to tell her but he couldn't.

That's OK, she knows.

I walked her to the door and asked her to shut the observation camera off, I wanted Daniel to have as much privacy as possible. I'd let her know if anything went wrong.

When I went back to the bed, I helped Daniel lay down and get covered up. He said, 'sorry' one last time. Everything's going to be fine, Daniel. Let's just both get some sleep.

He closed his eyes and I counted off the seconds until he fell asleep. But this being Daniel, nothing is ever easy. He opened his eyes again and looked around. Just as I was going to ask 'what?' he grabbed the box of Kleenex off the table and pulled it under the blankets. Just like me and that hockey stick.

Finally, he fell asleep. I don't think I was ever so happy in my life to see someone sleeping. And I know I never felt so tired in my life either. I sat down in the chair next to the bed and closed my eyes. Life was good.

The End