Brotherhood (11/27)
Title: Brotherhood ( Table of Contents)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I gain nothing of material value from this.
Pairings: Gen
Chapter1 Chapter2a-- 2b Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6 Chapter7 Chapter8 Chapter9 Chapter10a-- 10b Chapter11
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Perspectives
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22 October 1999; Chicago, Illinois; 6:00 PM (CST)
Robert Rothman hadn't had time off--other than weekends and medical leave--since he'd started working for the SGC. This time, he'd made it off the base without alarms going off to quarantine him back in the Mountain. He decided to take that as a sign that it would work out this time, even if it did also technically count as work.
Of course, Colonel O'Neill hadn't been so confident. Robert was pretty sure--okay, very sure--that O'Neill wasn't overly fond of him, and he'd gotten a warning not to lose Daniel while he was in Chicago. Robert thought that was pretty rich coming from SG-1, especially since he'd gone home last weekend and found out that Daniel had joined them again on some follow-up thing and come back even more withdrawn than he'd been right after the going-crazy stint. Rumor said something about lobotomized kids. Robert really hoped that was an exaggeration.
What he hadn't considered was the danger of losing an underage alien in a crowded civilian airport, which was beginning to look like a real possibility.
"I didn't realize there were so many people," Daniel said, wide-eyed. "I mean, I did, but not...all in one place."
"Just don't get lost," Robert advised, keeping a close eye on his position.
"Right," Daniel said, looking like that was the last thing he wanted to do. "No. Sure."
Then again, Daniel had a perfectly exciting yet safe job deciphering alien languages at the SGC and still launched himself at every off-world opportunity he could, like he actually enjoyed coming back traumatized and/or splattered with blood. Robert had given up trying to understand what Daniel wanted when it came to adventure and life-threatening danger.
They made their way out and caught a bus without losing any bags or aliens, and when they were on their way, Robert said, "We're staying a few blocks from the Institute, so we'll just walk over tomorrow morning." There was no answer, however; Daniel was asleep against the bus window. "Yeah. I thought it was a good idea, too," Robert said to the seat back in front of them.
Whatever. This had been a crappy month. A sleeping Daniel wasn't a cranky, post-schizophrenia somewhat-off Daniel, which Robert was always happy to leave to Colonel O'Neill and SG-1 to handle. Which was bizarre, when you thought about it, because who left depressed teenagers to the mercy of a combat team?
His assistant (student? co-worker? whatever Daniel was) was weird.
His job was weird.
It paid well, though, and the world got saved every so often, which was nice.
It did not, however, pay well enough to drag a sleeping Daniel off a bus, so Robert hesitated, then poked him a few times on the arm. To his relief, Daniel tried neither to continue sleeping nor to hit him--he'd always imagined people with combat training being twitchy like that, and Daniel had Teal'c-training--but only yawned and dragged his things out of the bus.
They made it up to their room without any cultural blunders, by virtue of Daniel keeping his mouth shut and following obediently, apparently too busy staring at collegiate America to argue.
Within a few minutes, Robert had his laptop plugged in and open. Daniel was sitting on the floor against the wall with a blank legal pad and looking at some translation he'd brought while Robert checked through whatever e-mail had been sent in the last few hours. He almost told Daniel to put the work away and relax, but then Daniel would tell him the same, so he held his tongue.
"You could sit on the bed," Robert pointed out. "Or, you know, share the desk or something." Their room was technically intended for one person, but they'd both stayed in much less comfortable places, and it made things easier this way. Robert wasn't particularly interested in losing track of Daniel, anyway; someone would literally kill him.
But Daniel shrugged, lounging against the wall on the floor. "I'm fine here."
The next time Robert looked up, Daniel was chewing on his lip and staring at the carpet, and his notepad was still blank. "Need help with something?" he asked.
"Did you have hallucinations?" Daniel asked out of the blue. "With the Machello thing, I mean."
And okay. See, here was the thing.
Robert hadn't hated being an assistant researcher, per se, even if he'd gotten ordered around a lot. Still, he'd always thought it would be nice to be the guy in charge someday, except now he was thinking that it would've been nice to have someone tell him what to do sometimes. "Yeah," he finally said. "But everyone thought I was having a regular nervous breakdown, and by the time they decided I wasn't, we were all pretty sure something, you know, weird was going on. So I never got called schizophrenic."
"Is it common to have a nervous breakdown like that?"
"Not...really," Robert said, shuddering at the thought of having several episodes like that one. "I don't think so."
"Oh," Daniel said. He opened his mouth but, uncharacteristically, hesitated. He sighed instead and turned back to his notepad.
Robert really hoped there wasn't going to be a follow-up, and, happily, a buzzing sound made them both pause. "I think that's your phone," Robert said helpfully when Daniel looked confused. Reception was iffy under a mountain, and he was probably never alone on Earth's surface enough to have used a cell phone before.
"Right." Daniel dug it out and peered at the screen, then said, "It's Jack. SG-1 must be home."
"You should probably answer that," Robert advised, then left the room to hunt for coffee.
...x...
When Robert returned to their room, Daniel had wheedled quite a story out of SG-1 about their last mission, and this one...
Well. Doozy was an understatement.
"Whoa, whoa, okay," Robert said, holding up a hand as Daniel finished relaying what his friends had told him. "Apophis was training an SG-X to act like an actual SG unit?"
"Yes," Daniel said again, still turning his phone over in his fingers and frowning at it. "And to kill us, presumably, and possibly themselves in the process. They were his pawns." His lips quirked, as if at an inside joke that Robert was missing, and he added, "Cannon fodder."
Which was pretty much the worst joke ever.
"And they were your age?" Robert repeated. "Really?"
"Well, no--Sam said the youngest of them might have been, but the commanders, certainly, would've been older. Although...maybe they weren't pawns so much as knights. It depends on how you decide to define the hierarchy, because they obeyed Teal'c, too. So if the Jaffa are the lords and commanders, does that make them the kings or the knights or what?"
Robert stared at him. "Wha... Are we talking about chess here?" Sometimes he wondered if Daniel was trying purposely to freak him out or if his brain just went into overdrive when it got bored and spilled nonsensical thoughts all over the place.
Daniel blinked. "Sorry, I'm...rambling. Something Jack and I were talking about once." So it was the latter, apparently. "Anyway, they almost killed SG-1. And each other."
"Man," Robert said, wondering how SG-1 always managed to pull missions like that. First the Linvris place, then the place with kids getting their brains sucked out, then this. And that was just in the last month.
"And that's why your team is archaeology now," Daniel said.
And...what? "What?" Robert said.
"Apophis captured SG-11 last year and tortured information out of them," Daniel said in a tone so level Robert gaped a little. "It happened around the time when we were pushing for a team to specialize in archaeology, so that's what the new SG-11 became."
"Holy crap," Robert said, not sure which part horrified him more. "And...are they...did they..."
"They were killed, after," Daniel said quietly. "Almost a year ago."
"God," he said, because what else did one say to that? "And Colonel O'Neill told you that over the phone?"
Daniel stuffed his phone away and shook his head. "No. I talked to Sam afterward, who gave me the approximate dates. It's not hard to put together, given that they were the only team we lost around the right time. Then I asked Teal'c, who confirmed a few details."
"Holy crap," Robert repeated. His team never got caught up in stuff like that. And, great, now that just made him think about the fact that that was because the previous SG-11 had been captured and tortured for information and then executed.
"Isn't it strange?"
Like he needed something else strange in one of the strangest conversations he'd ever had with Daniel. Be the adult, Rothman. You can do it. "What?"
"It just happens really fast, doesn't it?"
"I need an antecedent, Daniel."
"They went to the planet with Apophis's training camp less than three days ago," Daniel explained. "Then a war started, a bunch of soldiers died, and it all stopped within a few hours. And now they're back home, writing reports. I don't know. I always imagine it should take more time for things like that to happen."
"Yeah," Robert managed, a little disturbed by the paths Daniel's brain took. "Uh, I guess. Geez. So Apophis was starting to recruit kids."
"They weren't kids," Daniel said. "It sounds like most of them were older than I am."
And that was a problem, Robert thought, but there was no good way to say that. He had never been one to rock the boat too much--even on base, where he was nominally in charge of quite a lot, he stayed pretty low-key. One of the advantages of having Daniel Jackson as his assistant was that Daniel's entire existence seemed to revolve around rocking as many boats as he could, and he had no problem being annoying to Colonel O'Neill's or General Hammond's face, letting Robert keep his head down.
Robert could put his own foot down once in a while, but he had no illusions about who would win if he went up against both Daniel and SG-1, especially when he'd been one of the ones most firmly in favor of letting Daniel work before. It didn't seem to matter how much he pointed out that Daniel just didn't seem to get the difference between being allowed to do nice, safe translations at the age of fourteen and being sent to shoot enemies at the age of sixteen, and that someone had to be the adult and tell him so (preferably without debate, because Daniel would debate the socks off anyone who tried it).
But there were valid excuses either way, and, in the end, who was Robert to judge if it was Daniel's choice by a different set of cultural mores? A little guiltily, he pushed the matter to the back of his mind, reasoning that SG-1 would (usually) protect Daniel (if they could).
"So..." Robert said, coughing awkwardly. "Have you looked at the schedule for tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? Oh," Daniel said, snapping back on track. "There's a speaker on 'Egyptian magic,' did you see? Do you think that means...you know, something we're interested in? Goa'uld?"
"It's more likely ordinary mysticism or beliefs, actually, but it could be. We'll pay attention, see if anything seems suspicious," Robert said, relieved to find himself back on safe, familiar ground. "Oh, hey, the Jordan group will be at the symposium, too. We'll meet up with them tomorrow in their lab, and then head down to the talks together."
Daniel perked up a little. "I remember. Dr. Jordan, Dr. Rayner, and Dr. Gardner, you said."
"Yeah. Treat this as a test of how well you know your cover story. Seriously, be careful with them," he said. He looked more closely and added, "And keep your dog tags out of sight."
"It's not a secret that we work for the Air Force, is it?" Daniel said, frowning even as he pulled the chain off his neck, secured it around a belt-loop, and slipped it into his back pocket, the way many of the SGC civilians kept their tags to avoid attracting attention. As with many things, Daniel hovered between civilian and military customs with his attire and ID and wasn't always able to tell which was the appropriate option.
"Well, no, but it might draw more questions," Robert said. "Trust me." Sarah had this knack for noticing things she had no business noticing, and Steven could pull scarily accurate guesses out of two scraps of circumstantial evidence. Dr. Jordan would probably keep his nose out of it if asked, but still--no reason to make people more curious than necessary. "Does your cover story include anything that puts you in bodily harm?"
"Uh...no," Daniel said. "My cover story puts me behind a desk all day, translating and probably fetching coffee for you."
"For which the Air Force doesn't issue dog tags," Robert pointed out. Nothing in their cover stories suggested that they might be killed and need slivers of metal to identify their bodies. Most days, Robert tried really hard not to think about that part of his job. "That's one of the reasons why civilians on base aren't in the habit of wearing them in sight."
"Huh. I'd wondered about that; I forgot to consider that it might be because their work is classified."
"If you have any doubts about what's classified and what seems normal to most people while we're here, you look at me for cues," he warned. "Okay?"
Daniel shrugged and returned to what he clearly saw as a more interesting topic. "Okay. Are the labs here...they're really different from SGC labs?"
"Oh, yeah," Robert said, reaching into his bag for a book. "They're more meticulous about details, too--we don't usually get to spend as much time on each artifact we find. If it's not something that explodes or a fancy new gun, people don't care that much." Daniel grimaced. "Yeah, I know, but we have our orders."
"I wish everything didn't have to be about fighting all the time. Do you ever think that?"
Robert looked up. Daniel was frowning at the closed flap of his backpack. "Well, sure," he said, thinking that he was absolutely the wrong person to be having this conversation. "But--"
"But we have to, I know," Daniel sighed, picking up his laptop again. "I'm not really trying to complain. Just saying."
"Uh, actually, I was going to say 'but that's what you'll see this weekend,'" Robert corrected. "A bunch of archaeologists who care about, you know, graffiti on pyramids more than guns."
"Oh. Right."
"Take notes," he advised.
...x...
23 October 1999; Jordan Lab, Chicago, Illinois; 8:00 AM (CST)
"Robert!" Sarah said, pushing back from the computer. Steven's head popped up, too.
"Um, hi," Robert said from the doorway, aware that this was no longer his territory but also knowing that he could probably still find his way around here with his eyes closed.
"It's so good to see you," Sarah said, smiling brightly. "Well, don't just stand there; come in! Wait--Dr. Jordan just got in; I should go tell him that you're here."
"Hey," Steven said as Sarah disappeared into the back. "How's it going? Long time, no see."
"Good, it's good," Robert said, stepping in and then turning to make sure Daniel hadn't gotten lost somewhere. Except no one was behind him, so he inched toward the corridor again and said, "Uh, hold on, Steven. I think I lost my--Daniel, what are you doing?"
"Oh," Daniel said, turning away from one of the instrumentation centers down the hall. "Sorry."
"Who's this?" Steven asked, just as Dr. Jordan followed Sarah back into the lab.
"You made it!" Dr. Jordan exclaimed, giving one of his rare grins. "We haven't heard anything about you aside from occasional e-mails for...what has it been, two years?"
"Yeah, just about, Dr. Jordan," Robert said, reaching out to shake his professor's hand, only to be pulled into a quick hug instead. "I hope you don't mind that we dropped in to say 'hi.'"
"Of course not," Sarah said cheerfully. "Why don't you introduce your friend?"
"Right--this is Daniel Jackson, my assistant in one of the...civilian whats-it-called..."
"Student internship program," Daniel filled in, which was a kind of ridiculous lie for someone who reigned over the department in all but name when Robert was off-world, but it was what his papers said. In a few years, they might be able to pass him off as some young research prodigy, but for now, this story was easier to believe. "Pleased to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too," Dr. Jordan said. "Why don't we pull up a few chairs and catch up? The first talk isn't for another couple of hours."
The five of them settled around the end of a relatively clear lab bench. Not clear enough, apparently, because Daniel was too busy looking at the stuff lying on top to remember to sit down. "What are these?" he asked, bending closer to something. "Is this from Abydos, this funeral stele?"
Robert stopped himself from kicking Daniel as hard as he could--which would be unsubtle and might result in being kicked back--and settled for taking a look himself. As it turned out, Daniel meant Abydos, Egypt, Earth, so that was okay.
Dr. Jordan glanced at Robert, then told Daniel, "They'll be joining the collections in the museum. We're helping with analysis and cataloguing, and yes, that was found at Abydos."
Daniel nodded absently, frowning. "I've read about artifacts found in excavations there. But the offering is...odd, isn't it?"
"That's one of the things that gave us pause," Jordan said with a speculative look in his eye. "We want to make sure we aren't missing something."
"Are you sure this says 'voice'?"
"Daniel," Robert said, and Daniel looked up, then sat down apologetically. "This is how we met," he added to the others. "Arguing over a translation."
"I was right," Daniel said immediately.
"Well, I was missing half the context," Robert retorted. Sarah laughed, and they stopped.
"It's not a problem," Jordan assured him. "We had an argument about that word the other day, in fact. But speaking of analysis and research...what have you been working on lately, Robert?"
"Yeah, I've been looking for your name in the journals," Steven added, still looking curiously between the two of them. "You haven't published in a while."
"Not much that we do is publishable," Robert said. "A lot of it's translation work."
Leaning forward, Sarah asked, "What exactly is it that an archaeologist does for the military?"
Hoo boy. Here I go, Robert thought, and lied, "Like I said, uh...mostly translation, communications with foreign collaborators, you know..."
Dr. Jordan smiled at him. "That's right, your masters was in linguistics, wasn't it? You were always good at the modern languages while the rest of us were stuck among extinct ones."
Wasn't it just ironic, then, that he'd quit modern linguistic theory for archaeology and philology because he'd enjoyed the ancient languages more, and that he barely touched the modern ones anymore and was better at languages extinct on Earth than anything else?
"Oh, Robert," Sarah said, "did you hear about Steven's book deal?"
Robert felt something within him--conditioning, maybe--protest at that. Not that he considered himself an academic purist who thought earning decent money was evil--he had a secure, well-paying job working for the government, after all--but it was odd to imagine a publication that actually brought in money in and of itself.
"Uh, congratulations," he said, turning to Steven, who shrugged tightly. "So, what's it on?"
Steven eventually cracked a real smile and was happy to go on at length about his book, which seemed to be nothing particularly groundbreaking, but Robert knew if anyone could write well enough to turn a ten page review into a bestseller...well, Steven Rayner could do it.
"Are you close to tenure these days?" Robert said, noticing that the other three were standing, though Dr. Jordan waved him back to his conversation with Steven.
"Still working on it," Steven said with the tone of lamenting academics everywhere and a little bit of needle-sharp envy. "You don't have to worry about that, huh?"
"Huh--well," Robert said, feeling oddly left out, which he knew was pretty ridiculous. "Have you guys gone anywhere interesting lately?"
"No, but we're applying for a grant, and--" Steven grinned suddenly. "Oh, do you remember that time--you were a fourth-year or something, and we went to the conference in Egypt?"
"Oh man," Robert said. He relaxed and laughed at the memory. "I remember the airport. I can't believe you're still bringing that up..."
By the time they'd petered out of reminiscences, Dr. Jordan, Sarah, and Daniel had migrated over to something on a lab bench, where Robert recognized Daniel's thinking face, Dr. Jordan's professorial stance, and Sarah's aw-that's-so-cute smile.
Following his gaze, Steven said quietly, "So where d'you find a kid like him in the military?"
"Uh, I found him at work, actually," Robert said, not mentioning that he'd first met Daniel in a physics lab, and then only because he'd dropped a few papers near his foot. "We were both working on the same thing and ended up comparing notes. He's an aspiring linguist." Or diplomat. Or anthropologist. Or Jaffa warrior. Something like that or all of the above.
"Is he any good?"
"Are you kidding? He's genius," Robert said. It felt kind of like boasting, but he found he didn't really mind the feeling. Steven still looked a little too speculative, so he added quietly, "I'm trying to get him to start looking at higher education." He meant college, but Steven would think 'grad school,' and he'd let the assumption stand. "He's gotten interested in archaeology but isn't decided on the idea of more school, so, you know..."
"Didn't you always hate being forced to TA?" Steven said, almost teasing. "Don't tell me you've become an inspiring teacher on us."
Thinking it wouldn't be wise to try to explain that Robert wasn't always the teacher between him and Daniel, he said honestly, "If students here had been like him, I wouldn't have minded."
...x...
24 October 1999; Chicago, Illinois; 7:00 PM (CST)
After the last speaker on Sunday, the Jordan lab clustered in a knot with a few other people, so Robert left Daniel listening spellbound to Sarah and Steven argue about something or other and went to speak to some of his former colleagues and ask about their research, making mental notes about a few people the SGC might be interested in. He drifted toward the principal investigators but soon found that the graduate students and post-docs were also a good talent pool--like Robert himself had been, some of them were frustrated, open-minded enough to consider that some pyramids might have been built by aliens, and eager for stable employment in a field that simply didn't have enough job openings in the traditional places.
Eventually, Dr. Jordan stepped up beside him, making Robert feel oddly like a first-year student all over again. "How have you been, Robert?" Dr. Jordan asked amiably.
Except, back in grad school, Robert hadn't had secrets he'd had to hide from his friends.
"Good," Robert said, not sure if it was a lie or not, because however cool alien planets were, there was always going to be something he'd miss about exploring his own planet with other archaeologists. The Stargate was incredible, but it wasn't the same when there was a time limit of a few days or--if they were really lucky--a couple of few weeks, with men carrying guns standing around him.
"Glad to hear that," Jordan said. "Your Daniel over there mentioned you weren't working on those theories you had anymore, about the construction of the pyramids."
"Did he?" Robert snuck a glance over and hoped they weren't interrogating Daniel at the moment. "Well, there aren't a lot of Egyptian pyramids in Colorado Springs."
Jordan nodded. "That's true. Well, you put a lot of work into that, and you know what I've always said about data..."
"They don't exist without a logical explanation," Robert filled in with an odd pang of wistfulness for the years when he'd been an underling. Okay, so it was a little pathetic, but Dr. Jordan had that effect on people. It would be nice, too, to have someone else take charge when their translators were going insane so that Robert wouldn't have to be the one to deal with it. Not that he was thinking of any particular incident, mind. "I remember."
"You really never wonder what might have come of it, if you'd pursued it to the conclusion?"
"No, not really," he denied dutifully. "My priorities have shifted a little since I got the new job."
He cringed a little as he said it. It sounded like he was denying that he cared about archaeological study at all these days. Now, that hurt.
He looked toward the others while trying to sort his thoughts and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Sarah sitting at one side of a table, Daniel to her left and Steven to her right. She'd scooted back a little to allow the two to talk across her. "What's going on over there?" he asked, wondering nervously how well Daniel knew his cover story.
"Well," Dr. Jordan said in a tone that made Robert think of a researcher studying animals in the wild, "I believe Daniel and Steven are engaging in some sort of one-upmanship ritual involving proficiency in Afro-Asiatic languages. Sarah seems to find them amusing, but any minute now, I predict she'll tell Steven to stop being so immature; Daniel has immunity as a guest and a student."
Just then, he saw Sarah shake her head and slap Steven lightly on the shoulder. Robert laughed. "That sounds about right."
"Well." Dr. Jordan gave him a last smile--a part of Robert thought it was wistfulness and another thought it was disappointment in him for having left the field--then looked up at the clock on the wall. "You're leaving tonight?"
"Yeah, we're taking the red-eye back. Actually, we should probably leave soon if we don't want to get stuck at the airport," he admitted reluctantly. If he didn't get Daniel back to base by Monday, someone would be out for his blood. O'Neill, probably, though he really didn't want to be on Teal'c or Major Carter's bad side, either.
"Well, visit more often, won't you?" Dr. Jordan said, patting him on the shoulder and leading him back to the group. "Sometimes I'm afraid you'll just disappear into Colorado and never come back."
Sometimes Robert was afraid of that, too, so he promised, "I'll be back, I'm sure. It was good to see you again, Professor."
XXXXX
25 October 1999; Daniel Jackson's Quarters, SGC; 0830 hrs
Jack found Daniel sitting on his bed, scribbling idly in a notebook, when he walked in. "Jack," he said, standing. "How is everything?"
"Good," Jack assured him, closing the door behind him. "How was your trip?"
"Oh, it was really interesting," Daniel said with surprising enthusiasm. "Some of the talks were really...uh, well..."
"...interesting?" Jack guessed.
"Yeah," Daniel said. "Robert's archaeology professor was very nice, too--he showed me around the museum archive Saturday evening while Robert went to visit his sister."
"Well, good. I just wanted to tell you the three of us are going off-world in about half an hour--"
"What? You are?" Daniel scratched his head, blushing slightly. "Uh, right. Of course you are."
"It's just a routine exploration," Jack said, though they both knew there really was no such thing as 'routine.' When Daniel's enthusiasm visibly started to fade back into something like apprehension, he added, "You don't have to worry."
"Right, yeah. I know," Daniel said, looking uncertain about whether he should stay standing or sit or do something else, so he slouched and shuffled his foot in place instead. "Do you know anything about the place?"
"Not much," Jack admitted. "Their 'gate is in a storage room below ground, it looks like, but the MALP couldn't get up the stairs to look around."
"Well, if it's just in a storage room, it can't be a Goa'uld planet."
"Yeah, we think that, too." Orban, of course, hadn't been Goa'uld-infested, but... "One more thing," he added a little reluctantly. "The general thought I should tell you for some reason. SG-9 is going back to Orban."
Jack waited for an exclamation of surprise and hoped, just a little, for one of outrage. Instead, he received a tentative, "Oh?"
"You knew," Jack realized.
"Well. Yes," Daniel answered, raising his chin, though his tone was nervous. "I knew, but don't be mad. I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think--"
"It was your idea?" Jack said in surprise. Daniel stopped. "I'm not mad," Jack said quickly, holding out a hand. "Hammond explained." Daniel nodded, folding his arms and still looking wary. "Daniel, I'm not mad at you."
"Yes, you are," he countered stubbornly. "I brought Kalan to take Merrin away."
"I'm...mad that it had to happen that way. But not at you."
Daniel tilted his head to consider that, then said, "But I did it, so it's the same thing."
Jack could feel this turning into one of those arguments he hated having with Daniel, so he insisted, "No, it's not," then followed quickly with, "Look...I just wanted to tell you we're going to be away, probably for a few days. If you need anything..."
"Right," Daniel said. "You should...you need to go. You said half an hour."
"SG-1 just needs to get this last one over with, and then we're off the rotation for a while--we'll be gone a couple of days, maybe, that's it," Jack said. "You gonna be okay?"
"It's okay; I'm not your responsibility," Daniel said in a tone clearly meant to reassure.
"You're on my team."
"I never actually finished getting onto the team," Daniel said. "So, not yet. Look, you have a mission--you need to go. Tell everyone 'good luck' from me."
That was part of the problem, Jack thought; no one was responsible for Daniel the way someone should be most of the time. He had a momentary thought that being part of SG-1 would solve that problem, because everyone on the team was responsible for everyone else and Daniel wouldn't be left here while everyone else moved on around him, until he remembered that putting Daniel on the team was what had hurt him in the first place. "We'll be back soon," Jack finally said. "All right?"
"Yeah, all right," Daniel said, nodding and not quite managing casual.
"Take care of yourself," Jack said, then closed the door behind him.
XXXXX
27 October 1999; Infirmary, SGC; 0800
Janet looked up at a knock on her open office door, surprised to see Daniel, since he seemed to have been avoiding her as much as it was possible for two people who spent most of their lives in the same building. "Are you busy, Dr. Fraiser?" he said stiffly.
Knowing how important names were to him, being called 'Doctor' instead of 'Janet' stung. She cleared her throat and said, "No, not at the moment. Would you like to come in?"
He took a step in, started to close the door, then stopped and left it open before taking a seat between her and the door. He took a breath, started to say something, and stopped.
"Do you want to talk about anything?" Janet prompted.
"Yes," he said. She waited for him to continue, watching as he unclenched his hands and sat on them, presumably to keep from fidgeting more than he already was. "Actually, I'm not sure," he finally confessed. "I'm sorry; I'll--"
"Wait," she said, holding up a hand, afraid he'd walk out and avoid her for a few more weeks. He stopped halfway to his feet and sank back into his chair. "How are you doing?" she asked.
"Fine," he said, not quite bravado, but clearly an answer meant to fill space, to tell a truth. He rocked forward once, very slightly, and then back, then stood and closed the door.
He still didn't seem to know what to say, so she tried, "You might be unhappy with me and decisions I made recently concerning you. If you're not comfortable talking to me--"
"It's not that," he said.
He didn't go on, though, or say what it was if it wasn't that. Janet had known Daniel could be stubborn about things he didn't want to share, things he expected people to figure out because he'd figured them out, but she'd rarely been the one who'd had to blunder her way through and figure out what was going on in his head. "All...all right," she said. "Then--"
"You were acting as my doctor, not my friend," Daniel said in a rush. "I understand."
Janet couldn't decide whether that was meant to absolve or blame. With Daniel, who picked words and meaning with laser precision, it could so easily be both. "Yes, I was," she said, choosing her words carefully, because he'd interpret them carefully. "A lot of the time, I'm going to have to be your doctor first. But right now, as your friend who just happens to have a medical degree, I'm sorry, and I want to know: how are you?"
She had no idea, really, what she'd said right in there, but it must have been something, because he seemed to relax a little bit. "I'm okay, Janet," he said, sounding more honest this time. "Better now that I can go back to doing some work, at least. How's Cassandra?"
For a moment, she was sure that was a change in topic, though one much less subtle than Daniel was capable of. Then she realized it wasn't that, so much as it was an offer to restart the entire conversation. "She's started taking Spanish at school," Janet said casually. "Having some trouble with it, actually--foreign language doesn't seem to be her forte."
"Well...I know Sam sometimes helps her with math homework. If...maybe the next chess weekend, if she needs help with language and Jack and I are there..."
"I think she'd love to have you help her out," Janet said with a genuine smile.
"Okay," Daniel said, looking relieved at something or other. "Okay. Thanks."
"Daniel..." she said seriously, "listen. It's easy to get...stuck, if you will, after something happens to you. I want to make sure you understand you won't move past it if you avoid thinking about it."
In the same tone, he said, "I know. Actually, can I ask you a few things, Janet? As a doctor, I mean. Teal'c said you explained some...aspects of psychiatry to him. Apparently, both of us grew up with a different view from the Tau'ri practices, and it turns out I don't know much at all about it..."
"Of course," she said, gesturing. "Have a seat--what do you want to know?"
XXXXX
29 October 1999; Archaeology Office, SGC; 0730
Sam paused with her hand poised to knock on the doorframe. "No, it's not!" Dr. Rothman was insisting as Daniel sighed in exasperation and said something she didn't understand, so she assumed they were arguing about a translation again.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked when they both stopped and frowned for a moment.
Daniel's head jerked up. "Sam, you're back already? Is everyone okay?"
She smiled. "We're fine, Daniel. It went great, actually. The colonel's briefing SG-5, and we have to go back to the planet with them in about an hour."
"Yeah?"
"Yup. The planet's called Vyus, and they've been really friendly. They've got this enormous library. There's an old man there who's been the librarian for years, and he's offered to help look through it for records of Goa'uld or anything else. We're bringing a research team back with us. I just wanted to check in on you before we go."
"That sounds really interesting," he said, and if she didn't know better, she'd think he was envious. On the other hand, it was an alien library--actually a library, rather than forgotten text on a stele--so he probably was envious, at least a little. "I hope you learn a lot from them."
"Me, too." She looked between him and Rothman. "I don't want to bother you guys, so I'll--"
"Take him," Rothman said with a yawn. "He's too awake for me at this hour."
So Daniel walked her toward the elevator. "I never realized how much I like being active until I wasn't allowed to do fieldwork," he confided. "Not that there's anything wrong with deskwork, but I'd gotten used to the idea of almost being on a team, and, well...I'm bored, Sam."
He was looking at her now, practically begging even though she wasn't the one who needed to be convinced. Sam had the fleeting thought that, if they'd been better at resisting his pleas for work from the start, he might not have gone through everything that he had. She stopped him before they reached the elevator and said, "Work's been hard on you lately."
Daniel grimaced but said, "It's been hard on everyone. But--but that's the way it is, right? I've had all the mandatory time off I can take, and...I really want to get back to work all the way. So now, it's just that I can't join a team again until I finish my psych evaluation, and..."
"Have you scheduled it?"
"I will," he said determinedly, then backed away. "You'll see--he'll say I'm fine, too. Tell everyone good luck from me, yeah?"
"All right," she said, heartened. "See you in a few days."
XXXXX
3 November 1999; Archaeology Office, SGC; 2300 hrs
Teal'c approached the archaeology office and was not surprised to find lights still illuminating the interior. "Tek'ma'tek, Daniel Jackson," he said from the doorway.
Daniel Jackson looked up briefly from his work. "Tek'ma'tae. Back from Vyus?"
"Indeed. It was a most successful exchange of knowledge. I was not expecting to find you still awake at this hour."
"I'll leave soon," he said. "Actually, do you have a minute?" Teal'c stepped in with his hands clasped behind his back, which Daniel Jackson took as an invitation. "Uh...which of these people has SG-1 worked with before?"
Accepting the sheet, Teal'c read through the list and said, "We have not worked in the field with Captain Young, Lieutenant Astor, or Dr. Balinsky."
"Huh...you've worked with Captain Lithell before? I don't remember that," he said, taking the paper back and scribbling indecipherable words next to one of the names.
"Indeed," Teal'c replied. "He is a member of SG-5 and has accompanied us once in the past."
"Oh, right," Daniel Jackson said, shaking his head. "I'll assume he doesn't have anything against you guys. Do you know how hard it is to convince some of the people in this department to join SG-1 off-world without an order from the general? Well, all the teams are pretty insular, but I swear you guys are the worst. I think Jack scares scientists off on purpose."
Teal'c thought that this could be true--he had observed the same, not only from O'Neill, but also from Major Carter, who was simply more discrete. Teal'c also did not hide his thoughts when temporary consultants made inexcusable errors. "Many of them are unaccustomed to the way in which we work. However, I do not believe it would be wise to alter our tactics."
"I know," Daniel Jackson said with a smile. "I like you all the way you are, too. Just makes our job more interesting. Anyway... I have a question." He paused, and Teal'c nodded to indicate he could continue. "When you went to Vyus, did SG-1 have a fourth person?"
"We did not," Teal'c replied.
Daniel Jackson appeared to be waiting for further explanation, but when none came, he said, "You should have picked someone. I don't mean just for culture and things like that; you might need more than three people to...to watch each other's backs."
"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.
"You're not going to disagree?" he asked in a suspicious tone of voice.
Teal'c took a moment to decide on the best tactic to approach this. "I am not. However, there is some difficulty in that matter. There is no additional space in the SG-1 locker room."
"You... Was that a joke?" he asked uncertainly. "I can clear out my gear. It was never quite mine to begin with."
"Daniel Jackson, we have not been seeking a replacement for you."
Relief passed over Daniel Jackson's features, but it disappeared quickly. "Like I said, it's not...a replacement, exactly."
"You have been a part of SG-1 for years," Teal'c reminded him, certain he was not the only one who believed so. "Only recently have we begun to arm you appropriately."
"Look, don't tell Jack this, okay? I don't know if he'd be very objective around me. And I guess I'm not very objective around all of you, either. I don't want to be the reason someone gets hurt."
Teal'c found this to be a very obvious remark and unworthy of one from whom he had come to expect insights that he would not otherwise have considered on his own. "I have heard Tau'ri warriors use the words 'brothers in arms,'" Teal'c said.
"Yes," Daniel Jackson answered, frowning. "That's a...well, yeah. What?"
"I consider O'Neill and Major Carter my brothers in battle."
"Sam's a girl," Daniel Jackson answered, and Teal'c reminded himself that the word in this tongue was not used for a group of more than one gender.
"She is a warrior and a sister. I would die for them, and they would die for me."
"Well, that's the point, Teal'c. What if one of you has to protect me and...Teal'c, you know what I'm saying."
This was the most difficult part in attempting to teach Daniel Jackson. If he had been a Jaffa warrior, he would never have seen battle at his level of skill. But he was not a Jaffa warrior, and there was nothing in Teal'c's experience that told him when a scholar was prepared for battle. He had believed the time had come, with SG-1 to protect him, but Daniel Jackson often seemed to understand war both too well and not at all. However, Teal'c no longer wished to teach young Jaffa to die fighting. He had but one chal'ti now, and he would see this one live.
"Would you lay down your life for us?" Teal'c asked.
"That's not the point," Daniel Jackson insisted.
"Indeed it is. SG-1 would die for you. You would die for us. Because I wish for you to live, I will fight harder to prevent you from dying for me. Do you understand?"
"Well, I just don't want to be the one who makes you all die."
"You are being stubborn," Teal'c said sharply. "You said that you tire of seeing people hurt. I tire of sending men to their deaths. When you fight against an enemy, you seek only death; when you fight for your brothers, you seek life. Is this not why we follow the Tau'ri way?"
Daniel Jackson pushed his glasses higher with a finger but did not answer.
"For what do you fight, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked.
There was no response at first. Daniel Jackson chewed on his lip, his brow furrowed, but it was in thought and not in anger or confusion. And then, "This"--he made a vague gesture around the room--"and everyone, but free from the Goa'uld. That's not a sentence. Does it make sense?"
"I too wish to see that life," Teal'c said. "You must understand, Daniel Jackson, that we may succeed, but neither of us will ever be untouched by the war against the Goa'uld. We fight for a chance to see that future and to share a small part in it."
Daniel Jackson nodded, finally understanding. "And for our families. Brothers in arms and...and everyone else."
"Think on it," Teal'c said.
"Brothers in books?" Daniel Jackson suggested.
"Perhaps you should not think so hard," Teal'c amended.
XXXXX
5 November 1999; Commissary, SGC; 1300 hrs
Jack stepped into the elevator with Daniel, who turned to him and said, "I went to the mental health people yesterday. I asked them to redo some of the cognitive tests, and I have an appointment with Dr. Mackenzie in a few days."
Surprised, Jack said, "Why?" before he could think twice.
Daniel frowned at him as the elevator door opened. "Uh...because the last tests I have on record are from when I was...well, either insane or sane but very annoyed at the whole process, and I don't think Mackenzie would find anything to make him think I'm not sane this time."
There were too many parts of that to address all at once, so he started with, "You don't ever have to talk to Mackenzie again if you don't want to. No one's told you that?"
"Does it matter?" Daniel crossed his arms and led the way out. "I don't want to do this with any of the other psychiatrists, either. Dr. Mackenzie knows better than most of the other psychiatrists what would help or hurt an SG team, so...what does it matter, Jack?"
Jack watched him more closely as he pushed open the doors to the commissary. "If you're talking about competence, his name was on the forms that had you committed."
"So was Janet's," Daniel said, grabbing a plate. "And so was the general's. And you thought I was crazy, too...yes, you did," he added when Jack started to protest.
"Daniel..." Jack said. When no answer came, he said uncomfortably, "We kept looking."
"It's just a fact, okay?" Daniel said, frowning. "I've been thinking--I looked insane. I thought I was insane. It was Mackenzie's job to say that. So that's what he did, and I'll just...clear up any lingering questions with him. Unless you have a problem with my meeting with him?"
Jack found Carter and Teal'c at a table talking about Goa'uld tech and sat down to one side of them. "I...don't have any problems if you don't," he told Daniel. "I guess."
"Well, I don't. Leave it alone." So Jack backed off that point, but then Daniel repeated, "No, really, Jack, leave it alone," and Jack realized he'd taken Daniel's orange.
"Sorry," he said, handing the fruit back.
"Anyway," Daniel said, encompassing Jack, Carter, and Teal'c all in his gaze, "SG-12 was doing some drills while you were on Vyus, and Major Ferretti let me join them. Is that all right?"
"What kind of drills?"
"You said I could go to the range as long as someone was there. Ferretti counts, right?"
"Yeah," Jack conceded. "It's fine. As long as he didn't mind."
"He offered. SG-12's newer members were being trained in energy weapons. I'm better now--fifteen out of fifteen on the target in each round, mostly, with a time limit. I could pass it right now. Well, not right now," he amended, because he was holding an orange and not a gun. "You know what I mean."
"You really want to get back on the ball, huh," Carter said.
"I really do," he said. "I know everyone's wary about putting me on SG-1, but I've spent two years training to be able to help explore so I can carry out my duty to my planet as well as to this one, so...uh. Yes. My answer was yes. If you still want me."
Jack exchanged a look with his teammates. "Daniel," he started carefully, "if people are wary about you on our team, it's not because of your failings...but you do end up hurt from being with us more than you do in any other way."
"You end up hurt from being on SG-1 more than in any other way, too," Daniel pointed out. "It's my age, right? Because I looked that up. I'm legally employed in this country, I'm even being paid now, I'm not being forced into anything, and you have agreement from my village elder."
"True," Jack conceded. "But--"
"We've been unlucky a few times, I know, but we've been lucky, too. And if I didn't understand before what might happen, you can't say I don't understand now." Daniel paused and glanced at Teal'c before focusing on all of them again. "Is the spot still open on your team?"
"Indeed," Teal'c said. Jack gave him a sharp look, but it wasn't like he'd ever been fazed by Jack's sharp looks.
"I know you don't want a fourth," Daniel said, "but...we've done okay together before, right? The general seems to think I'm the only one who can stand all of you at once."
The last was said with a hopeful, teasing smile, although the general had implied that, too, to their faces. It might even be true. "Yeah," Jack said. "But--"
"You agreed before the mission to the Linvris chamber," Daniel said. "That was just an accident, and it's over. I promise, it's over now. Give me a chance, Colonel. Same as before--no military operations, but I can be a good translator, a...a good soldier if need be, and I won't be the weak link on your team, and--"
"Aht!" Jack said, holding up his hand. "Okay. I get it. Look, our next mission isn't for another week and a half. After your appointment with Mackenzie, I'll hear his report, and I'll go with you to get your marksmanship scores on paper. If everything goes through, I'll request your addition to SG-1. Again."
"Really?" Daniel eyed them all suspiciously.
"You think you're ready?" Jack asked.
Daniel nodded firmly. "Yes, sir. I'm ready."
"Then, yeah, really," Jack said, then reached out with a fork to take a bite of Daniel's pie.
XXXXX
10 November 1999; Embarkation Room, SGC; 1000 hrs
It didn't happen that way, though. That would have been too easy.
Daniel passed all tests and put up some decent scores with his sidearm, and Hammond seemed like he could be convinced to put him back on SG-1. Then he had his psych reevaluation, and just before Jack and Hammond had a chance to sit down with Mackenzie, the Tok'ra came calling and things quite literally went to Hell.
"Maybe it's Dad," Jack suggested to Carter when they received the Tok'ra IDC.
"Maybe," she agreed hopefully.
The two of them went together to wait at the bottom of the ramp, but it wasn't Jacob who walked out; it was Martouf, followed by two Tok'ra Jack didn't recognize. "Martouf," Carter greeted, smiling. "How are you?"
"Samantha," Martouf answered, but without an answering smile. "Colonel O'Neill. I am well enough, under the circumstances."
Jack felt his expression start to stiffen as he ran through the list of possible reasons the Tok'ra might be here that would warrant the phrase 'under the circumstances.' If they had just come to ask for help with something simple, Jacob would have been there, right?
"It's my father," Carter guessed, echoing Jack's thoughts.
Martouf nodded once, solemnly. "I'm afraid he's been captured by Sokar."
From the next chapter (" The Tok'ra"):
By the time everyone was assembled and Jack walked into the briefing room, Daniel was skimming through a copy of some book called The Egyptian Heaven and Hell. Jack felt that this did not bode well for what he'd say about where Jacob Carter was.