Chapter 5

Daniel Defiant

When the closet opened, Daniel was blinded by the sudden light. It left him helplessly cowering in the farthest corner, shrinking away from the man overshadowing the brilliant light while he shielded his eyes. He was given no time to adapt as a large hand grabbed him, dragging him out into the hall. His arm was yanked away from his face and large fingers probed his skin. The man made a grunt of annoyance when he saw the very apparent bruise on his cheek, and again at the flinch when he touched Daniel's arm.

"Better call you in sick," he muttered, releasing Daniel as he headed for the phone. From his disjointed memories, Daniel figured out he was talking about his school. Suddenly, for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to go to elementary school. It would be easier to escape from there. Daniel thought hard, forcing himself to let his rational, adult mind handle the situation despite his nauseating fear, and said, "I could say I fell from a tree." It came out in a whispered squeak, and he couldn't stop the cringe that followed as he waited for the giant looming over him to react. But the man was already on the phone, speaking with his school, and didn't seem to have heard him.

"I'm just calling to say that Daniel Jackson won't be in to school for a while. He's sick. Yes, yes, don't worry about it. He'll bring a note when he gets back. All right. Thank you. Bye." The phone hung up. "Now I just need a doctor," the man mumbled to himself, and Daniel felt a sudden frisson of fear come over him like ice. He didn't know why, but at the mention of a doctor he suddenly found it hard to breathe. He knew he had to leave.

He was in motion before he even became aware, his thoughts still trembling around buried memories. The giant exclaimed behind him with anger. Daniel was fast, but he was having trouble breathing and he could feel himself shaking as though his limbs wanted to fly away from him. He made it to the top of the stairs when he was grabbed from behind.

Daniel didn't stop to think, he just let Teal'c's training take him over, just like he had been meditating towards. The next thing he knew there was a series of loud crashes, and when he opened his eyes the giant was lying unmoving at the bottom of the stairs. Daniel's arm was sending sharp shoots of pain through his shoulder, the same arm that had been hurt the day before, and somewhere in his brain that was not frozen in shock, he wondered if it was broken. Other questions arose, like, did he just kill someone? Then he was on the ground, clutching at the railing next to the stairs while he threw up. He didn't want the giant to be dead, but at the same time he did. And that bitter sharp bit of hatred that wanted nothing more than to have the giant cut up into a million pieces made Daniel gag. He didn't want to hate any more than he wanted to kill. Slowly he stood up and started down the stairs.

"Please don't be dead," he whispered with every step, his eyes locked on the still form, "Please don't be dead." At the bottom of the stairs he found himself trapped. The large man was sprawled there, blocking his path. Shaking, he brought his small fingers to the fat neck. He almost collapsed from relief when he felt a pulse. Then when he felt the man moving slightly beneath his fingers he jerked back. He had to get out now. He understood this, logically, but he still couldn't move.

"I'm not eight, I'm not eight, I'm not eight," he mumbled to himself, trying to make himself move. But it wasn't until a sudden shadow loomed over him that he could tear his eyes away from the giant's crumpled form, finding himself looking into the face of another giant. Suddenly, with a small gasp, his scattered, disjointed memories lined up and flew into place, leaving him white and breathless. He remembered the doctor now, and why he scared him. He was the giant's brother, and he was who wrote all of Daniel's sick notes and took care of his injuries when the giant's rough treatment got out of control. He was, in many ways, much more terrifying than the giant. Overpowered by the sudden assault of memories, he made no move to get away when he was grabbed up and lifted away from the stairs.

The giant's anger always erupted in heat, growling and vicious. When he felt the need to punish Daniel, he usually had enough control to not hurt him in ways that could easily be seen. When he did lose control, though, he lost it majorly, creating the need for excuses to schools and social workers. That is when the doctor came.

The doctor, unlike his brother, never lost control. His anger was cold and sharp, and when he hurt Daniel it was with cold precision and a morbid grin. Daniel remembered him now and shuddered back from his touch. There didn't seem to be anything left of his adult self, his mind frozen from all thought but that of escape.

"What did you do to him?" the doctor asked, his voice devoid of anything but curiosity, but Daniel could sense the freezing anger behind his eyes. When Daniel didn't answer the doctor shook him, his muscles tense with barely contained violence. Daniel shook and his voice broke, tumbling from him as he tried to explain how it wasn't his fault, only to be silenced by a second shake.

"In English, Daniel," the man instructed him, impatiently. Daniel blinked, and for the first time realized he had started speaking in Arabic. He had done that a lot, he remembered, when he really was eight and now he seemed to be slipping right back in to old habits. He didn't want to slip back into old habits. He didn't want to cower or cringe or cry, and he didn't want this man holding him, touching him. He said nothing now, stubbornly silent. He had defeated one nightmare of his past; he could defeat two.

"All right, Daniel," the doctor said, "I think I can see what happened. You were hurt, screaming for help. My brother, kind hearted soul that he is, was in a hurry to help you when he slipped and fell on the stairs. Is that what happened?" Daniel stared.

"Oh but wait, you don't look very hurt," the doctor continued, "Let's see what we can arrange, shall we?" Daniel shuddered beneath his grip.

"He didn't fall!" Daniel said, defiant, "I pushed him. I did!" The doctor shook his head as though to correct an unruly infant. If he was shocked by Daniel's admission, he didn't show it.

"We might know that," he said, "But who is going to believe a little boy would be able to kill a man. No, we both know you need to be punished, and they won't do it."

"He isn't dead," Daniel said quickly. The doctor looked thoughtful for a moment, looking around.

"Aha!" the doctor exclaimed, still carrying Daniel with him as he approached a large, heavy bookcase.

"Little boys like to climb," he explained, "Unfortunately, it wasn't stable and you were crushed."

"No," Daniel whispered, confronted by sudden images of a cover stone swaying. He was finding it difficult to breathe again. It was hard to see past the images of his past, drowning him and stealing his breath away, and he didn't even begin to struggle until it was too late.

There was an agonizing pain that went through everything, shattering old memories and awakening a scream that came out as a whisper. He couldn't breathe; he couldn't do anything beneath the crushing pain, when he felt a hand touching his face. Blinking his eyes, through a blur of tears, he cringed away. But he knew that face, that hand, even that voice. In that last moment before everything went dark, he saw Jack.