Leap of Faith (6/6)
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Author: Sunrize
Rating: PG-13 for language
Characters: Jack, Daniel
Category: Gen, H/C
Season/Spoilers: Season 4, post "The Curse"
Synopsis: A trip to the mountains becomes a battle for survival
"...never really got into the spirit of things. All he'd do was stand there on the dock and look...menacing. Which, I'll admit, he does well. Probably scared the crap out of the fish. Guess I can't really blame him, though. Those mosquitoes were all over the T-man like white on rice. Must be something about Jaffa blood."
Jack leaned over to check on his friend. Daniel's eyes were open--barely. He stared sightlessly into the darkness, one hand clutching Jack's sleeve as he fought for each and every breath.
"You with me?" Jack's voice was a hoarse rasp from holding an endless monologue.
"No...choice."
"Very funny." He used a corner of the blanket to wipe the blood from Daniel's lips. "Everyone's a critic."
"Sleep."
"Uh-uh. No way. You're going to stay bright and chipper and listen to every single one of my amusing anecdotes until help gets here."
"Not...coming."
"Yes, it is."
"Jack."
"Daniel. Shut up."
Silence, except for Daniel's ragged gasps for air. Then Daniel's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Jack's arm.
"Been...good friend."
Jack tipped his head back and shut his eyes against the rush of moisture. "I do the talking, remember? You just listen."
"Best...ever had."
"Don't do this."
"So tired...Jack."
"I don't give a rat's ass how tired you are. You're going to hang in there and keep breathing until help gets here. That's an order."
"Can't...order."
"The hell I can't! I promised my kid I wouldn't let you quit on me."
Daniel's eyes widened. "Charlie?"
"That's the one."
Licking his lips, Daniel struggled for enough breath to speak. "Thought...didn't...believe."
Jack shrugged, clenching his jaw. "Can't a guy change his mind?" When Daniel just stared at him, he growled, "Let's just say I took a leap of faith."
Daniel tried to answer, but began coughing instead. Jack held him, cursing softly as blood ran down Daniel's chin and spattered Jack's shirt. Eventually Daniel's eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged bonelessly in Jack's arms. Only the movement of his chest, light and rapid as a hummingbird's wing, reassured Jack that he was still alive.
"Don't do this." Jack lifted his eyes to the starry sky, anger welling up inside him. "He doesn't deserve it, and...neither do I." The rage evaporated--snuffed out by exhaustion. "Should've kept my damn feet on the ground."
"...'ello?"
He thought the cry was an illusion, just the sound of the breeze in the trees. Until he saw a dancing flicker of light at the top of the incline.
"Hello...hear me? Is...down there?"
A man's voice, ebbing and flowing on the wind.
"We're here!" Jack squirmed out from under Daniel and laid him on the ground, battling his stiffened leg to stand. "I've got an injured man; I need help!"
He listened, heart pounding, terrified by the silence.
"...911. Help...the way. Hold on."
Jack dropped back down beside Daniel and pulled his friend back into his lap. "Hold on. We can do that, can't we, Danny? Piece of cake."
*************************
Beeping.
The steady, high-pitched sound filtered into Daniel's consciousness. It was familiar, comforting in its own way, if only because it signified an abdication of responsibility. Content to just listen, he drifted.
More noises gradually penetrated his protective cocoon: a rhythmic hiss of air, the whisper-soft squeak of crepe soles, the clank and rattle of a cart, and under it all, the drone of voices.
As his awareness sharpened, other, less pleasant stimuli buffeted his senses. The acrid bite of alcohol in his nostrils. The stiff scratchiness of chemically laundered sheets beneath his fingertips. And pain pulsing through his skull and settling like an elephant on his chest.
Infirmary.
Hurt.
Jack?
It required an enormous amount of concentration and effort to pry open his eyelids. Light, brilliant and blinding, spiked through his already aching head. He slammed his eyes shut, clenching his fingers in the scratchy sheet.
"Tone down the lights, will ya, Doc? Looks like sleeping beauty is finally waking up."
Jack.
"C'mon, Daniel. Open those baby blues. We've got mood lighting, just for you."
Daniel complied. As promised, some of the overhead fluorescents had been turned off. His blurred vision gradually cleared, revealing Jack and Janet, poised on either side of him like bookends. They both smiled in perfect sync.
"Good to see you, Dr. Jackson."
"Welcome back, Dannyboy."
Thoughts flitted through his mind like elusive butterflies. What happened? Why am I here? And why does Jack look like shit? He couldn't seem to grab hold of one long enough to examine it, so he lay there, blinking stupidly.
"I'm just going to check your vitals, Daniel. You've been out for a quite a while." Janet took his pulse and blood pressure, listened to his chest, then shined a penlight in each eye, wincing when it provoked a fresh stab of pain. "Sorry."
She slipped an aural thermometer into his ear, nodding at the readout. "One hundred point five. Still a little high, but it's coming down. Your lungs sound good. What do you say we take you off the ventilator?"
Ventilator. Wha--?
And like the flick of a light switch, realization flooded his foggy brain. Now he could identify the hissing sound as a respirator and sense the tube down his throat. Suddenly the tempo at which his lungs filled with air felt all wrong. Daniel choked, fighting the alien rhythm of the machine, eyes wide with panic. The heart monitor doubled its beat and chaos erupted.
"Daniel! Daniel, don't fight the-- Damn it!" Janet fiddled with something, then leaned in close, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Daniel, I want you to take a deep breath, and when I count to three, blow as hard as you can. All right?"
Still battling for air, Daniel managed a jerk of his head. He could hear Jack growling at Janet and the shuffling of hurried footsteps.
"One. Two. Three. Blow, Daniel."
The tube slithered and tickled its way out of his throat. Daniel coughed until he saw stars, moaning whenever he managed to draw breath between spasms. By the time gentle hands eased him back against his pillow he was wrung out from pain and exhaustion.
Someone placed a straw to his lips, and he sipped gratefully, the cool water a balm to his abraded throat. He looked up, surprised to see Jack attached to the hand holding the cup. His friend's eyes were heavily shadowed, his movements stiff and uncharacteristically graceless as he set the cup on the table and sank into a chair.
"Wh--happened?" His throat felt as if it were lined with broken glass.
Jack cocked an eyebrow and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a smile. "We had an accident. Car ended up a couple thousand feet down the side of the mountain."
Memory trickled back. "I've asked you that before, haven't I?"
"A time or two, yeah."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. Doc said you've got quite the concussion--among other things. Your brains are a little scrambled. It'll wear off."
Daniel frowned as fuzzy images resolved themselves. "Ran us off the road."
Jack scowled. "That's right. We'll probably never catch the little bastards."
"You hurt your leg."
"Yeah. Wracked up my knee--again. Fraiser tells me I'm in for some surgery once the swelling goes down."
Daniel lifted his head but couldn't see past the edge of the mattress. Bad move--the drumbeat in his skull increased and the dull ache in his chest sprouted teeth. He groaned.
"Guess we forgot to mention that moving around isn't a good idea right now. Bad?"
"Been better. You?"
"Nah. Doc's got me on the good stuff. Hang in there--she went to get some for you, too."
"How long?" He knew he was close to speaking in code, but at the moment full sentences eluded him. Jack, bless him, understood.
"Nearly two days on the mountain before they found us. That was Tuesday night. It's Friday morning." Jack smiled, but his gaze was intense. "We were starting to think you were never gonna wake up."
Daniel brought an unsteady hand up to his chest. "Couldn't breathe."
"You were bleeding into your chest. After a while all that fluid kept your lungs from inflating properly. At least, that's the way the Doc explained it to me. We nearly lost you twice on the way in. You're lucky to be here, Daniel. Very lucky."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Getting us out of there."
Jack shrugged. "Wasn't me. We had some help."
Everything clicked into place. "Charlie."
Janet chose that moment to swoop down on them, hypodermic in hand. "All right, Daniel. This will help with the pain." She injected the contents into his I.V. line, then gave Jack a pointed glare. "What you need now is to rest and heal."
Jack raised both hands. "Two minutes and I'm outta here. Promise."
"I'll hold you to that, sir." Janet patted Daniel's leg. "Use the call button if you need anything."
Jack hauled himself upright, wincing. "Think I hear an ice pack calling me."
Daniel grabbed hold of his wrist. The drug was beginning to work, blunting the pain and spreading tendrils of warmth through his body. He blinked hard, fighting the urge to sleep. "How?"
Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'll be damned if I know. The body shop tells me there's no way those headlights should've worked--but they did. Even so, the odds that someone would actually see them are about a million to one."
"But someone did."
Jack's eyes skittered away from his. "Yeah."
"Jack?"
"The couple that found us were on their way home from a camping trip. They got a late start and decided to drive through the night. The guy said his wife was sleeping, and he was starting to get tired himself. He figures maybe he dozed off for a moment, that what he saw was a just dream."
He knew where this was headed, but he wanted to hear Jack say the words. "What did he see?"
Jack finally met his gaze. "A little boy in a red baseball cap, standing in the middle of the road."
"Charlie."
"He slammed on the brakes and got out of the car, looking for the kid. Imagine his surprise when he found our headlights instead." Jack shook his head. "If not for... He'd've driven right by, Daniel."
Daniel smiled. "He said to trust him." He punctuated the words with a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Yeah, well... Get some sleep." Jack pulled a pair of crutches from beside the bed and tucked them under his arms.
Daniel watched him hop awkwardly toward the door. "Jack?"
He turned with raised brows. "Daniel?"
"You all right?"
The line creasing Jack's forehead smoothed and his lips curved in a gentle smile. "Yeah. I am."
Satisfied, Daniel surrendered to the pull of sleep.
*************************
He could hear their voices before he turned down the hallway. Carter's infectious laughter and Teal'c's rumbling bass interspersed with Daniel's soft replies. Jack adjusted the crutches to a more comfortable position and painstakingly hopped onward.
Fraiser had released Daniel early that morning with the stipulation that he continue recuperating in his on-base quarters for at least another three days. You had only to look into the doc's eyes to see just how close Daniel had come to that big wormhole in the sky. Recovery would be slow--and painful.
"...seems pretty obvious to me." Carter looked up from her perch on Daniel's bed as Jack appeared in the doorway. She grinned. "Colonel, we were just talking about you."
He lounged against the doorframe. "All good, I'm sure."
"Depends on your perspective." Daniel was propped up on a stack of pillows. Though he looked a hundred times better than the man they'd hauled up the side of the mountain, his eyes were still hollowed by fatigue and pain.
"We've decided these fishing trips of yours should be outlawed, sir," Carter explained. "They seem to be a recipe for disaster."
"Really? How do you figure?"
"Well, Jack, you have to admit our trip didn't turn out so well." The slight slur to Daniel's speech coupled with his goofy grin told Jack his friend was definitely under the influence of Fraiser's drugs.
"And look what happened when you went off with Teal'c," Carter chimed in before he could respond. "Osiris turned up, Daniel got zatted, Janet and I were thrown against a wall..."
"And I myself sustained many wounds from the carnivorous insects that inhabit the woods surrounding your lake, O'Neill. Fortunately my symbiote was able to neutralize their ill affects."
"Et tu, Teal'c?" Jack shook his head. "Ya know, I think we need to plan a group fishing trip as soon as Daniel and I are on the mend. It's obvious none of you truly grasp the almost cosmic significance that fishing holds."
"Yes...well...I'd have to check my schedule on that, sir. I'm working on a way to streamline the dialing system and then there's that naquada generator that--"
"Carter."
"Sir?"
"I get the picture."
She ducked her head, smiling.
"Major Carter and I are on our way to lunch, O'Neill. Perhaps we could bring you and Daniel Jackson nourishment?"
"Got it covered, T, but thanks."
"I'm glad you guys stopped by. And Sam, thanks for the chocolate." Daniel gestured to a large package of 5th Avenue bars lying on the bedside table.
Carter leaned over and kissed his cheek, then stood. "You're welcome. It's good to see you looking so much better."
Teal'c inclined his head. "I concur with Major Carter's assessment, Daniel Jackson. Your condition has indeed vastly improved. When you first arrived in the infirmary you appeared to have been transported by a feline."
When Daniel just gaped at the Jaffa, lips parted and forehead creased, Jack took pity on him. "He means you looked like something the cat dragged in, Daniel."
Daniel blinked, then beamed a loopy grin. "Good one."
Carter exchanged an amused glance with Jack. "I'll be back later, just to see if you need anything. And thanks again for agreeing to help."
"No problem, Sam. Later, Teal'c."
Jack hopped over to the now-empty chair and eased into it with a soft grunt. Setting aside the crutches, he propped his injured leg on the bed.
Daniel was studying him closely, no longer smiling. "How's the knee?"
"Swelling's down. Fraiser says another couple days and I'll be ready to go under the knife--so to speak." When Daniel grimaced, he waved his hand. "It's not the first knee surgery I've had, and it most likely won't be the last. No big deal."
"I know. I'm just...I'm sorry you had to go through all that."
Leave it to Daniel to be worrying about him. Didn't the guy have at least one selfish bone in his body?
"Me? Daniel, I got a bump on the head and tore cartilage in my knee. A few weeks and I'll be back to planet hopping with the best of them. You, on the other hand, sustained a grade three concussion, four broken ribs, and internal bleeding that damn near collapsed your lung. You'll be lucky to get back out there in a couple months. Why the hell are you sorry for me?"
And why are you getting so angry about it, huh, Jack?
Daniel just looked at him, all big blue eyes full of patience and affection. "I had it easy--relatively speaking. I mean, yeah, it hurt like hell. And I was scared." He smiled that self-deprecating little smile that never failed to tug on Jack's heartstrings. "Really scared. But a lot of it is a big blur for me.
"You were the one who had to take care of me. That knee wouldn't be nearly as bad if you hadn't been hauling me around, saving my ass--Janet told me," he added quickly when Jack started to protest. "You kept both of us going until help arrived." He hesitated. "And you did it while trying to deal with a visit from your dead son."
For the first time in five years the sound of Charlie's name carried no real pain, just a bittersweet ache. If he concentrated real hard, he could swear he felt the warmth of a small hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine, Daniel."
Daniel narrowed his eyes, then smiled. "You really are."
"Yeah. I am. And don't sell yourself short. You did a damn fine job of hanging on...and making me finally see what was right in front of me." Jack shrugged off his pensive mood. "Now, how about a game of gin?" Reaching into his pocket, he tossed a pack of cards onto the bed.
"You always beat me at gin."
"And your point is?"
Daniel squinted at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay."
Way too easy. Suddenly Carter's parting words echoed in Jack's head.
"Daniel?"
"Hmm?"
Jack split the deck, then fanned the two halves together. "Why was Carter thanking you?"
"What?"
"Carter. As in Major Doctor Samantha? She thanked you for agreeing to help her."
"Oh, that!" Daniel flicked his hand negligently. "She's chairing the committee for this year's SGC family picnic and she really needed someone to head up the talent show."
Gotta hand it to you, Carter. You sure know how to strike when the iron's hot.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah, Jack?"
"Don't you hate the talent show?"
"Ah...well...yeah."
"Didn't Carter railroad you into doing it three years ago?"
"Um...has it been that long?"
"And didn't you swear you'd never get stuck running the talent show ever again?
"Well, yeah, but she was in a real bind and no one--"
"Daniel?"
"Jack?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Fraiser have you on Vicodin right now?"
Dead silence.
"Shit!"
Jack started dealing cards, not even bothering to hide his smirk. Score one for the home team.
End
Author: Sunrize
Rating: PG-13 for language
Characters: Jack, Daniel
Category: Gen, H/C
Season/Spoilers: Season 4, post "The Curse"
Synopsis: A trip to the mountains becomes a battle for survival
"...never really got into the spirit of things. All he'd do was stand there on the dock and look...menacing. Which, I'll admit, he does well. Probably scared the crap out of the fish. Guess I can't really blame him, though. Those mosquitoes were all over the T-man like white on rice. Must be something about Jaffa blood."
Jack leaned over to check on his friend. Daniel's eyes were open--barely. He stared sightlessly into the darkness, one hand clutching Jack's sleeve as he fought for each and every breath.
"You with me?" Jack's voice was a hoarse rasp from holding an endless monologue.
"No...choice."
"Very funny." He used a corner of the blanket to wipe the blood from Daniel's lips. "Everyone's a critic."
"Sleep."
"Uh-uh. No way. You're going to stay bright and chipper and listen to every single one of my amusing anecdotes until help gets here."
"Not...coming."
"Yes, it is."
"Jack."
"Daniel. Shut up."
Silence, except for Daniel's ragged gasps for air. Then Daniel's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Jack's arm.
"Been...good friend."
Jack tipped his head back and shut his eyes against the rush of moisture. "I do the talking, remember? You just listen."
"Best...ever had."
"Don't do this."
"So tired...Jack."
"I don't give a rat's ass how tired you are. You're going to hang in there and keep breathing until help gets here. That's an order."
"Can't...order."
"The hell I can't! I promised my kid I wouldn't let you quit on me."
Daniel's eyes widened. "Charlie?"
"That's the one."
Licking his lips, Daniel struggled for enough breath to speak. "Thought...didn't...believe."
Jack shrugged, clenching his jaw. "Can't a guy change his mind?" When Daniel just stared at him, he growled, "Let's just say I took a leap of faith."
Daniel tried to answer, but began coughing instead. Jack held him, cursing softly as blood ran down Daniel's chin and spattered Jack's shirt. Eventually Daniel's eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged bonelessly in Jack's arms. Only the movement of his chest, light and rapid as a hummingbird's wing, reassured Jack that he was still alive.
"Don't do this." Jack lifted his eyes to the starry sky, anger welling up inside him. "He doesn't deserve it, and...neither do I." The rage evaporated--snuffed out by exhaustion. "Should've kept my damn feet on the ground."
"...'ello?"
He thought the cry was an illusion, just the sound of the breeze in the trees. Until he saw a dancing flicker of light at the top of the incline.
"Hello...hear me? Is...down there?"
A man's voice, ebbing and flowing on the wind.
"We're here!" Jack squirmed out from under Daniel and laid him on the ground, battling his stiffened leg to stand. "I've got an injured man; I need help!"
He listened, heart pounding, terrified by the silence.
"...911. Help...the way. Hold on."
Jack dropped back down beside Daniel and pulled his friend back into his lap. "Hold on. We can do that, can't we, Danny? Piece of cake."
*************************
Beeping.
The steady, high-pitched sound filtered into Daniel's consciousness. It was familiar, comforting in its own way, if only because it signified an abdication of responsibility. Content to just listen, he drifted.
More noises gradually penetrated his protective cocoon: a rhythmic hiss of air, the whisper-soft squeak of crepe soles, the clank and rattle of a cart, and under it all, the drone of voices.
As his awareness sharpened, other, less pleasant stimuli buffeted his senses. The acrid bite of alcohol in his nostrils. The stiff scratchiness of chemically laundered sheets beneath his fingertips. And pain pulsing through his skull and settling like an elephant on his chest.
Infirmary.
Hurt.
Jack?
It required an enormous amount of concentration and effort to pry open his eyelids. Light, brilliant and blinding, spiked through his already aching head. He slammed his eyes shut, clenching his fingers in the scratchy sheet.
"Tone down the lights, will ya, Doc? Looks like sleeping beauty is finally waking up."
Jack.
"C'mon, Daniel. Open those baby blues. We've got mood lighting, just for you."
Daniel complied. As promised, some of the overhead fluorescents had been turned off. His blurred vision gradually cleared, revealing Jack and Janet, poised on either side of him like bookends. They both smiled in perfect sync.
"Good to see you, Dr. Jackson."
"Welcome back, Dannyboy."
Thoughts flitted through his mind like elusive butterflies. What happened? Why am I here? And why does Jack look like shit? He couldn't seem to grab hold of one long enough to examine it, so he lay there, blinking stupidly.
"I'm just going to check your vitals, Daniel. You've been out for a quite a while." Janet took his pulse and blood pressure, listened to his chest, then shined a penlight in each eye, wincing when it provoked a fresh stab of pain. "Sorry."
She slipped an aural thermometer into his ear, nodding at the readout. "One hundred point five. Still a little high, but it's coming down. Your lungs sound good. What do you say we take you off the ventilator?"
Ventilator. Wha--?
And like the flick of a light switch, realization flooded his foggy brain. Now he could identify the hissing sound as a respirator and sense the tube down his throat. Suddenly the tempo at which his lungs filled with air felt all wrong. Daniel choked, fighting the alien rhythm of the machine, eyes wide with panic. The heart monitor doubled its beat and chaos erupted.
"Daniel! Daniel, don't fight the-- Damn it!" Janet fiddled with something, then leaned in close, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Daniel, I want you to take a deep breath, and when I count to three, blow as hard as you can. All right?"
Still battling for air, Daniel managed a jerk of his head. He could hear Jack growling at Janet and the shuffling of hurried footsteps.
"One. Two. Three. Blow, Daniel."
The tube slithered and tickled its way out of his throat. Daniel coughed until he saw stars, moaning whenever he managed to draw breath between spasms. By the time gentle hands eased him back against his pillow he was wrung out from pain and exhaustion.
Someone placed a straw to his lips, and he sipped gratefully, the cool water a balm to his abraded throat. He looked up, surprised to see Jack attached to the hand holding the cup. His friend's eyes were heavily shadowed, his movements stiff and uncharacteristically graceless as he set the cup on the table and sank into a chair.
"Wh--happened?" His throat felt as if it were lined with broken glass.
Jack cocked an eyebrow and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a smile. "We had an accident. Car ended up a couple thousand feet down the side of the mountain."
Memory trickled back. "I've asked you that before, haven't I?"
"A time or two, yeah."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. Doc said you've got quite the concussion--among other things. Your brains are a little scrambled. It'll wear off."
Daniel frowned as fuzzy images resolved themselves. "Ran us off the road."
Jack scowled. "That's right. We'll probably never catch the little bastards."
"You hurt your leg."
"Yeah. Wracked up my knee--again. Fraiser tells me I'm in for some surgery once the swelling goes down."
Daniel lifted his head but couldn't see past the edge of the mattress. Bad move--the drumbeat in his skull increased and the dull ache in his chest sprouted teeth. He groaned.
"Guess we forgot to mention that moving around isn't a good idea right now. Bad?"
"Been better. You?"
"Nah. Doc's got me on the good stuff. Hang in there--she went to get some for you, too."
"How long?" He knew he was close to speaking in code, but at the moment full sentences eluded him. Jack, bless him, understood.
"Nearly two days on the mountain before they found us. That was Tuesday night. It's Friday morning." Jack smiled, but his gaze was intense. "We were starting to think you were never gonna wake up."
Daniel brought an unsteady hand up to his chest. "Couldn't breathe."
"You were bleeding into your chest. After a while all that fluid kept your lungs from inflating properly. At least, that's the way the Doc explained it to me. We nearly lost you twice on the way in. You're lucky to be here, Daniel. Very lucky."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Getting us out of there."
Jack shrugged. "Wasn't me. We had some help."
Everything clicked into place. "Charlie."
Janet chose that moment to swoop down on them, hypodermic in hand. "All right, Daniel. This will help with the pain." She injected the contents into his I.V. line, then gave Jack a pointed glare. "What you need now is to rest and heal."
Jack raised both hands. "Two minutes and I'm outta here. Promise."
"I'll hold you to that, sir." Janet patted Daniel's leg. "Use the call button if you need anything."
Jack hauled himself upright, wincing. "Think I hear an ice pack calling me."
Daniel grabbed hold of his wrist. The drug was beginning to work, blunting the pain and spreading tendrils of warmth through his body. He blinked hard, fighting the urge to sleep. "How?"
Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'll be damned if I know. The body shop tells me there's no way those headlights should've worked--but they did. Even so, the odds that someone would actually see them are about a million to one."
"But someone did."
Jack's eyes skittered away from his. "Yeah."
"Jack?"
"The couple that found us were on their way home from a camping trip. They got a late start and decided to drive through the night. The guy said his wife was sleeping, and he was starting to get tired himself. He figures maybe he dozed off for a moment, that what he saw was a just dream."
He knew where this was headed, but he wanted to hear Jack say the words. "What did he see?"
Jack finally met his gaze. "A little boy in a red baseball cap, standing in the middle of the road."
"Charlie."
"He slammed on the brakes and got out of the car, looking for the kid. Imagine his surprise when he found our headlights instead." Jack shook his head. "If not for... He'd've driven right by, Daniel."
Daniel smiled. "He said to trust him." He punctuated the words with a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Yeah, well... Get some sleep." Jack pulled a pair of crutches from beside the bed and tucked them under his arms.
Daniel watched him hop awkwardly toward the door. "Jack?"
He turned with raised brows. "Daniel?"
"You all right?"
The line creasing Jack's forehead smoothed and his lips curved in a gentle smile. "Yeah. I am."
Satisfied, Daniel surrendered to the pull of sleep.
*************************
He could hear their voices before he turned down the hallway. Carter's infectious laughter and Teal'c's rumbling bass interspersed with Daniel's soft replies. Jack adjusted the crutches to a more comfortable position and painstakingly hopped onward.
Fraiser had released Daniel early that morning with the stipulation that he continue recuperating in his on-base quarters for at least another three days. You had only to look into the doc's eyes to see just how close Daniel had come to that big wormhole in the sky. Recovery would be slow--and painful.
"...seems pretty obvious to me." Carter looked up from her perch on Daniel's bed as Jack appeared in the doorway. She grinned. "Colonel, we were just talking about you."
He lounged against the doorframe. "All good, I'm sure."
"Depends on your perspective." Daniel was propped up on a stack of pillows. Though he looked a hundred times better than the man they'd hauled up the side of the mountain, his eyes were still hollowed by fatigue and pain.
"We've decided these fishing trips of yours should be outlawed, sir," Carter explained. "They seem to be a recipe for disaster."
"Really? How do you figure?"
"Well, Jack, you have to admit our trip didn't turn out so well." The slight slur to Daniel's speech coupled with his goofy grin told Jack his friend was definitely under the influence of Fraiser's drugs.
"And look what happened when you went off with Teal'c," Carter chimed in before he could respond. "Osiris turned up, Daniel got zatted, Janet and I were thrown against a wall..."
"And I myself sustained many wounds from the carnivorous insects that inhabit the woods surrounding your lake, O'Neill. Fortunately my symbiote was able to neutralize their ill affects."
"Et tu, Teal'c?" Jack shook his head. "Ya know, I think we need to plan a group fishing trip as soon as Daniel and I are on the mend. It's obvious none of you truly grasp the almost cosmic significance that fishing holds."
"Yes...well...I'd have to check my schedule on that, sir. I'm working on a way to streamline the dialing system and then there's that naquada generator that--"
"Carter."
"Sir?"
"I get the picture."
She ducked her head, smiling.
"Major Carter and I are on our way to lunch, O'Neill. Perhaps we could bring you and Daniel Jackson nourishment?"
"Got it covered, T, but thanks."
"I'm glad you guys stopped by. And Sam, thanks for the chocolate." Daniel gestured to a large package of 5th Avenue bars lying on the bedside table.
Carter leaned over and kissed his cheek, then stood. "You're welcome. It's good to see you looking so much better."
Teal'c inclined his head. "I concur with Major Carter's assessment, Daniel Jackson. Your condition has indeed vastly improved. When you first arrived in the infirmary you appeared to have been transported by a feline."
When Daniel just gaped at the Jaffa, lips parted and forehead creased, Jack took pity on him. "He means you looked like something the cat dragged in, Daniel."
Daniel blinked, then beamed a loopy grin. "Good one."
Carter exchanged an amused glance with Jack. "I'll be back later, just to see if you need anything. And thanks again for agreeing to help."
"No problem, Sam. Later, Teal'c."
Jack hopped over to the now-empty chair and eased into it with a soft grunt. Setting aside the crutches, he propped his injured leg on the bed.
Daniel was studying him closely, no longer smiling. "How's the knee?"
"Swelling's down. Fraiser says another couple days and I'll be ready to go under the knife--so to speak." When Daniel grimaced, he waved his hand. "It's not the first knee surgery I've had, and it most likely won't be the last. No big deal."
"I know. I'm just...I'm sorry you had to go through all that."
Leave it to Daniel to be worrying about him. Didn't the guy have at least one selfish bone in his body?
"Me? Daniel, I got a bump on the head and tore cartilage in my knee. A few weeks and I'll be back to planet hopping with the best of them. You, on the other hand, sustained a grade three concussion, four broken ribs, and internal bleeding that damn near collapsed your lung. You'll be lucky to get back out there in a couple months. Why the hell are you sorry for me?"
And why are you getting so angry about it, huh, Jack?
Daniel just looked at him, all big blue eyes full of patience and affection. "I had it easy--relatively speaking. I mean, yeah, it hurt like hell. And I was scared." He smiled that self-deprecating little smile that never failed to tug on Jack's heartstrings. "Really scared. But a lot of it is a big blur for me.
"You were the one who had to take care of me. That knee wouldn't be nearly as bad if you hadn't been hauling me around, saving my ass--Janet told me," he added quickly when Jack started to protest. "You kept both of us going until help arrived." He hesitated. "And you did it while trying to deal with a visit from your dead son."
For the first time in five years the sound of Charlie's name carried no real pain, just a bittersweet ache. If he concentrated real hard, he could swear he felt the warmth of a small hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine, Daniel."
Daniel narrowed his eyes, then smiled. "You really are."
"Yeah. I am. And don't sell yourself short. You did a damn fine job of hanging on...and making me finally see what was right in front of me." Jack shrugged off his pensive mood. "Now, how about a game of gin?" Reaching into his pocket, he tossed a pack of cards onto the bed.
"You always beat me at gin."
"And your point is?"
Daniel squinted at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay."
Way too easy. Suddenly Carter's parting words echoed in Jack's head.
"Daniel?"
"Hmm?"
Jack split the deck, then fanned the two halves together. "Why was Carter thanking you?"
"What?"
"Carter. As in Major Doctor Samantha? She thanked you for agreeing to help her."
"Oh, that!" Daniel flicked his hand negligently. "She's chairing the committee for this year's SGC family picnic and she really needed someone to head up the talent show."
Gotta hand it to you, Carter. You sure know how to strike when the iron's hot.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah, Jack?"
"Don't you hate the talent show?"
"Ah...well...yeah."
"Didn't Carter railroad you into doing it three years ago?"
"Um...has it been that long?"
"And didn't you swear you'd never get stuck running the talent show ever again?
"Well, yeah, but she was in a real bind and no one--"
"Daniel?"
"Jack?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Fraiser have you on Vicodin right now?"
Dead silence.
"Shit!"
Jack started dealing cards, not even bothering to hide his smirk. Score one for the home team.
End