Lean On Me

Jack screamed as the pain enveloped him again.

Fire pulsed down every nerve, searing, burning, until all he could think of was making the pain stop.

As his voice began to give out the pain abruptly stopped leaving Jack gasping on the hard floor. With wary eyes he watched the pain stick weave hypnotically inches from his stomach. He could feel the shivers of phantom pains ghosting through him after the long hours of torture. There were aches and sharp, stabbing pains from the bruises and fractures they had inflicted everywhere but the overwhelming, all-encompassing pain was gone for now. Jack strained to pull air into his lungs through his raw, bruised throat.

"You will give me the codes."

The harsh, metallic voice of the Goa'uld intruded into his thoughts and he struggled to focus on the words. How many times had he been tortured to near-death and revived to start again? Twice? Three times? Nothing in any of Jack's training had prepared him for facing an enemy who did not need to worry whether the injuries they caused were fatal. Hell, with a sarcophagus the Goa'uld could kill him, administer the full dose of a zat, and he would be alive and kicking again in a few hours. It was getting harder to resist now. The seductive power of just telling everything that the Goa'uld wanted was almost too much. It would be so easy just to make the hurting stop.

Jack forced his eyes open to peer up at the Goa'uld above him through his swollen, bloody face. The pain-stick was poised over him was a painful, deadly reminder of what would happen if he resisted any more. Jack flinched away, grunting as the movement made his broken ribs grind together.

"No," he croaked.

The pain-stick touched his skin and Jack closed his eyes and opened his mouth to scream again . . .

***

The pain did not come. Jack waited, every muscle tense, but all he felt was languid warmth slowly spreading through his body. Gradually he became aware of an odd crackling noise and the smell of cedar where before there had just been the metallic scent of the Goa'uld ship. The sounds and smells were familiar and reminded him of safety and happier times. Jack took a deep breath and found that, for the first time in hours, his ribs did not hurt. In fact, nothing hurt anymore and when he experimentally shifted around slightly he found that he was on a soft yielding surface rather than the hard deck of the room he had been tortured in.

"Am I dead this time?" he muttered aloud, still refusing to open his eyes.

There was a soft chuckle from somewhere to his right. "No, you're not dead. I'm . . . we're just giving you a break for now."

Jack's eyes popped open and he turned his head to see Daniel sitting in an armchair a few feet away. "Daniel?"

A wide smile spread across the other man's face. "Hi Jack."

"How . . . why . . . where am I?"

Daniel shrugged. "Where do you think you are?"

"They got you speaking riddles already?"

"Not yet. Just look around and you'll see."

Jack rolled his eyes but Daniel's expression told him that he was not going to be let into the secret without putting in a bit of his own effort. He sat up and found to his surprise that he was lying in a large bed under a warm comforter. The movement made the cotton of the sheets rub over his skin and Jack realised that he was naked under the covers.

He raised an eyebrow. "Clothes?"

Daniel shook his head. "That wasn't my idea."

Jack shifted up in the bed slightly until he was propped up against the pillows with the comforter pulled up to his waist and tucked securely around him. He tried to ignore the heat he could feel in his face.

The walls around him were wooden, roughly cut but sanded down until they were smooth. A fire in the hearth on the wall opposite was the source of the crackling noise. There was a cedar blanket box at the end of the bed, a chest of drawers in the corner and a low bedside table to his left. Daniel's armchair sat in the corner of the room and its mate sat next to the fire. The room's shuttered window was in the wall to his left where the morning sunlight would stream through and create warm patches across the bed. Jack recognised it all.

"My cabin?" he asked.

"Oma said it's somewhere that you feel safe."

"Oma. So, what does she want?"

"She doesn't want you to give in." For a brief moment there was a flash of sympathetic pain on Daniel's face before he pushed it away and met Jack's eyes. "I know that you don't want to give in to them so I'm here to help you."

"So I'm not dead but I'm not on the ship anymore. I'm on Earth?"

"Not . . . exactly." Daniel's gestured around the bedroom. "This is all in your mind. It's giving you a break from what's happening so that you won't break."

"When do I go back?" Jack asked bleakly.

"You've never really left. This isn't real."

Jack looked around again. He ran his hands across the cotton of the comforter and breathed in the cedar-scented air. It felt real. He looked across at Daniel reclining comfortably in his armchair dressed in a white poet's shirt and faded blue jeans. Daniel looked almost the way he remembered. Jack searched his memory for a moment until he realised that the Daniel in front of him was slightly more tanned than he remembered and his hair was a couple of inches longer. But the intense blue eyes were the same, the lightly muscled body and the gentle smile.

"Are you real?"

One of Daniel's brief smiles crossed his face before he looked at Jack gravely. "Yes, Jack, I'm real. Everything here comes from your mind apart from me."

"So you're in my head."

"In a way." Daniel leaned forward in his chair. "I'm here with you at this moment. When you wake up I'll be keeping an eye on you there."

"And Oma sent you."

For the first time Daniel glanced away briefly. "I volunteered. Oma needed someone that you trust and apparently I'm it."

"You created all of this?" Jack asked, glancing around the room again.

"Are you worried that I've been poking around in your mind?" Daniel shook his head. "Don't worry your secrets are still safe. I . . . it would have been too intrusive. Oma looked in for me and found somewhere you'd feel safe. Like I said, everything about this place is in your control and in your mind."

"Apart from you."

"Apart from me."

Jack frowned at his friend. It would be so easy to believe him and relax his guard . . . but it wouldn't be the first time that the Goa'uld had used drugs and images of people he cared about to try to trick information out of him. He wanted to believe that Daniel was trying to take him out of the hell he was in, every instinct he had screamed that he had to trust him, but it was too much of a risk.

Daniel suddenly stood and moved towards him, looking down with a sad expression before sitting down on the bed next to him. "Jack, I won't ask you anything. I promise. You can only stay here until they take you out of the sarcophagus again but I need you to trust me and let me help you."

Jack wanted to trust. He needed to. But if he let his defences down for one moment he was not sure he had the strength left to put them up again. "Daniel . . . I . . ."

Daniel shifted forward until he sat so close that Jack could feel the warmth from his body. "Trust me."

Then Jack was being pulled into a tight hug and strong arms wrapped around him. For a long moment he remained sitting stiffly with his hands resting on the comforter until it became too much to resist and he leaned into Daniel and held on tightly. He buried his face in his friend's neck and breathed in the familiar smell of almonds and herbal shampoo that had always been a part of Daniel. Jack was barely aware of the deep shudders wracking his body as he finally put his trust in Daniel.

***

Daniel held Jack as tightly as he could. He could feel the shuddering and shaking against him as Jack released some of his pent-up pain and fear. Jack was not crying, just taking deep breaths that caught in his chest as his muscles shook after so many long hours of pain and the stubborn refusal to give into it.

Jack tightened his hold slightly and pulled Daniel as close as he could. Daniel shifted slightly on the bed to accommodate him. After six months of feeling nothing it felt strange to have a body, even temporarily, to be able to hold someone else and be held in return. The fact that it was Jack wrapped in his arms and clinging onto him like a life preserver just made it even sweeter.

A tiny portion of his mind wondered whether he was selfish to be enjoying the feel of Jack's arms around him, Jack's breath on his neck and Jack's skin under his fingers. The rest of his mind just accepted what was happening and tried to work out how to help Jack.

Daniel could remember other times when they had needed contact like this. Then it had been Jack comforting him, helping him through some of the worst times of his life. Now it was the other way around and Daniel felt a surge of fierce protectiveness towards Jack. He needed to offer Jack the comfort that he had so often received from him. Daniel began rocking Jack back and forth, rubbing his hand up and down Jack's spine and whispering that it was going to be fine, everything would be all right because Daniel was here now. He would make everything better.

Daniel kept rocking and caressing him, moving one hand to Jack's hair to rub soothingly at the short hairs at the base of his hair. As the shudders gradually eased Daniel stopped speaking and just held Jack waiting for him to regain his composure. Eventually the shaking stopped completely and Jack's arms loosened a little although he still held Daniel to him with his face buried in Daniel's neck.

"You really are Daniel, aren't you?" Jack said after a while, his voice slightly muffled in Daniel's shirt.

"Yes, I really am." Daniel felt some of the tension fall away from Jack. "You don't think Oma would send just anyone to deal with you? Nobody else would survive your shoot first and ask questions three years later approach to life."

There was a muffled chuckle just below Daniel's ear. "I don't have a gun."

"Everything here is created by your mind. You could have a gun if you wanted to."

"I could?"

"You want a gun?"

"Not at the moment." There was a pause as Jack thought it through. "I could have anything I want?"

For a moment Daniel felt a slight chill on his back and the warm, slightly hairy sensation of Jack's skin against his chest. The feeling was gone a second later and he shrugged slightly to confirm that his shirt was back. Then he blinked twice as he realised exactly what had happened and stiffened briefly before relaxing again. Jack did not seem to be aware of what he had done but Daniel could feel his face flaming.

So that was one of Jack's secrets. Daniel silently promised to keep that secret to himself. There was no point in wondering about what might or could have been; anything he had felt for Jack or that Jack had felt for him beyond friendship had stopped being relevant when he ascended.

"Y-yes," Daniel stuttered as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

He felt a puff of warm air just below his ear as Jack sighed. "All I really want is to go home."

Daniel closed his eyes tightly as misery washed over him. He had never felt so helpless before. Taking Jack home was the one thing that he desperately wanted but he had no idea how to do it. He forced his feelings away so that he could concentrate on comforting Jack.

"Feeling better?" Daniel asked after a while.

Jack nodded. "Kinda. I'd probably feel even better if this really was my cabin on Earth."

"I'm sorry. I wish it could be."

Jack released Daniel and pulled back slightly. Daniel let him go and shifted down the bed a couple of feet, sensing that Jack needed a bit of space to put his defences back into place. Jack concentrated on settling the comforter more securely around him, refusing to look at Daniel, but Daniel knew that it was just his way of coping with his momentary breakdown.

"So, what's really happening in the real world?" Jack asked.

Daniel closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment before opening them again to meet Jack's fascinated gaze. "They just put you back in the sarcophagus. You'll be waking up in a couple of minutes."

"Oh."

Just that. No emotion to the word, just acceptance of the inevitable. "If there was any way for me to stop them I would. Believe me."

Jack nodded. "I know."

"If I could get Sam and Teal'c here to rescue you I'd be back on Earth right now shouting at them until they came. But there isn't a Stargate on this ship and I couldn't get a ship close enough to even see us without the Goa'uld knowing about it."

Reaching out, Jack lightly brushed his hand across Daniel's before withdrawing again. "I know that. There's nothing you can do. I can't even die because they'll just bring me back again the way they always have."

Daniel nodded miserably. Why had Oma asked him to do this? Why couldn't she have just left him alone without telling him what was happening to Jack?

The answer to that was easy. Oma knew that Daniel would move mountains to help Jack and he might be the only person that could give Jack the strength he needed to survive this. If Jack gave away any of the secrets he held he could give Earth to the Goa'uld and no power in the galaxy wanted that.

And anyway, she probably knew that Daniel wouldn't have forgiven himself if he hadn't tried everything to help his friend.

"Daniel, don't sweat it. I'll be fine." Jack gave him a lopsided grin. "I can do torture. Maybe if they had Carter singing out there I'd be giving them everything I know but even the Goa'uld aren't *that* cruel. Sticks and stones may break my bones but Carter's singing might unhinge me."

"Pots and kettles, Jack. Your singing would scare an Unas."

Daniel suddenly realised that Jack was getting fainter. He reached out but his hand passed through Jack's arm.

"Jack, I'm with you," he promised just before the room began to dissolve around him.

Daniel closed his eyes and returned to reality.

***

Jack took a gasping breath and opened his eyes. There was a faint light surrounding him that he recognised as the interior of a sarcophagus. It felt as though he had been waking up in the thing for weeks, but he knew that it was actually only the third time he had been revived.

Only.

'Only the third time' was three times too many in his opinion.

From experience, Jack knew that he only had a couple of minutes before his Goa'uld torturer would come to pull him out and begin again. The nightmare seemed to have lasted forever. Jack couldn't be certain but he thought that he could only recall a few days. Add a couple of days for the times he had been unconscious and that meant he had only been here for a little over a week. The last thing that he could remember was laying down covering fire to let Carter and Teal'c get to the Gate when they had been surprised by a Jaffa ambush on a deserted planet.

After that there was a blank spot until he woke up on this godforsaken ship with a grating Goa'uld voice informing him that he would tell them everything he knew. So far Jack was sure that he hadn't given anything away but he had no idea how much longer he could keep to that. There were so many things that he knew that should never get into their hands but there was only so much that one man could go through. He had been trained to resist drugs, brainwashing and ordinary torture, but nobody had trained him to resist being tortured to the brink of death and then revived to begin again immediately. Everything he knew was based on the idea that his torturers needed to keep him alive and well enough to speak in order to get the information. Special Ops training hadn't taken a sarcophagus into account.

Jack made a mental note ask Hammond to send an official protest about that lack when he got to Earth. His harsh chuckle at the thought held no humour.

'Jack, I'm with you . . .'

The memory of Daniel's promise suddenly rang through his mind. Jack felt a flow of strength and determination that had not been there before. He had no doubt that Daniel would be there for every moment of what lay ahead. Daniel had never flinched from pain, never run away from difficulty, and he would be there now.

Jack took a deep, calming breath. "I'm not going to let you down."

He had a goal now. There was no way that he was going to let Daniel see him screaming and crying. Even in his final hours when the pain must have been overwhelming Daniel had not begged or whimpered. He had borne it all stoically and bravely. Jack refused to do any less.

The sarcophagus slowly opened and reddish light poured in, making Jack's eyes smart after the dim light. When the opening was wide enough the Goa'uld reached in to pull Jack out and begin the torture all over again.

As Jack flew to impact against the wall of his cell he bit his lip against crying out, and held onto an image of Daniel's calm face as he slid down to land in a crumpled heap on the deck. Jack was not going to give in.

***

Hours later Jack wasn't sure whether he could keep that internal promise. Everything hurt; his legs, his ribs, his face . . . for an irrational moment he even thought his hair hurt until he realised it was the bruises in his scalp from repeated impacts with the hard, metallic deck. He didn't have the strength anymore to do anything other than lie panting while he waited for the next onslaught. His lips were bitten and bloodied where he had tried not to scream from the pain-stick.

The only small measure of hope he now had was knowing that he was not alone. Jack could not see Daniel but he knew that he was there.

His refusal to cry or beg had only made his Goa'uld torturer angrier. He hadn't asked Jack any questions for a long time. All he seemed to want was for Jack to start begging and he had grown more vicious each time Jack refused. Not being asked questions actually helped, in a twisted sort of way. Jack was not quite so tempted to just tell his tormentor everything to make the pain stop. Each time the searing pain shocked through his body he wanted to give in but the knowledge that Daniel was there, watching it all, stiffened his resolution each time.

Jack didn't have the energy to make more than a pained wheeze when he was kicked solidly in the kidneys.

"My lord grows impatient," the Goa'uld ground out. "You will beg or you will die."

Jack took a gasping breath. "Again? Not . . . much of a threat . . . when you've got . . . a sarcophagus."

The Goa'uld roared his fury and Jack instinctively tried to curl up against the flurry of kicks to his back and head. Incredible pain suddenly roared down his nerve-endings as the pain-stick was touched to his skin and Jack could not stop himself screaming.

When it finally ended his throat was raw and greyness tugged at the edges of his vision. Jack closed his eyes and desperately tried to suck air into his lungs . . .

***

The scent of cedar filled his nose and Jack slowly relaxed as he listened to the crackle-pop of the fire. He rolled onto his back and felt the coolness of cotton sheets against his skin and the softness of the mattress beneath him.

"Jack, you look like hell," Daniel's voice commented.

Jack put a hand to his face and checked but the bruises and cuts were gone here. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Daniel, who was sitting in his armchair again with a worried expression on his face. It was the most amazingly wonderful thing he had ever seen.

"You look great," Jack said without thinking.

He felt a flush start in his face and travel down his throat as he realised what he had said. "I mean . . . uh . . . I . . ."

There was a faint smile on Daniel's face. "Don't worry, I know what you meant."

"How can you when I don't know what I meant?"

"Because we've been friends for six years and I'm starting to know you."

Jack struggled to sit up and pull the comforter with him. He scowled as the heavy comforter did its best to lunge towards the floor. "Does Oma have a sense of humour?"

Daniel gave him an assessing look that sent an odd feeling through Jack's stomach before chuckling. "Jack, I know that you only wear sweats to bed when I'm staying over. Everything here is a product of your mind - including your clothes. If you feel safer lying in bed like . . . that . . . then that's where you are."

"Everything here is me apart from you."

"More or less." Daniel shrugged. "I think I probably look the way I see myself."

"You see yourself with glasses?"

Daniel raised a hand and curiously explored his face. "Oh. I guess I do. I've never really thought about it. I notice that you see yourself with grey hair in here."

There was a moment as Jack's hair flickered between grey and brown before settling back to the grey. "I guess I do."

There was a long, awkward silence. Jack's gaze darted uncertainly between the comforter beneath his hands and Daniel's face. Finally Daniel stood and crossed the short distance to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I wish there was more I could do," he said quietly.

Jack swallowed hard. "It's not that I'm complaining. All of this," he gestured around the room, "is great. But . . . Oma could do all that cool stuff with lightening killing hundreds of Jaffa."

"Do you think I don't want to?" Daniel asked, his voice filled with bitterness. "If I had any idea how she did it there wouldn't be a Jaffa or Goa'uld left alive in this system. But I don't. Oma has been like this for centuries. It's only been six months since I ascended. Compared to her, I'm like a baby just taking my first steps. Most of the time it's a struggle to remember that I don't have a body anymore. Being here . . . it's the closest to comfortable I've been since I left. Jack, I want to help but I can't *do* anything."

"Hey," Jack said softly, reaching out to lightly brush the back of Daniel's hand. "Don't beat yourself up over it. I know you'd do something if you could."

"I feel useless."

"You're anything but useless." Jack offered him a crooked smile. "You're giving me the strength not to tell them anything. That's about as far from useless as I can imagine."

"I watched it all. I never left."

"I know. And in case I don't get the chance to say it again, thank you."

Daniel flashed him a lightening-quick smile before bowing his head to stare his knees. His arms seemed to automatically move into the self-hug position that Jack had seen so many times. It always made him want to pull the archaeologist into a real hug and never let go. Jack reached out to touch Daniel's arm but stopped before he made contact and dropped his hand again.

"Daniel, I think I'm scared," Jack admitted finally.

Daniel's eyes shot up to meet Jack's, holding for a long moment before he nodded. "Me too."

"I'm so tired."

Closing his eyes, Daniel frowned slightly as he concentrated. After a beat Jack realised that, somehow, Daniel was able to see what was going on outside as well as being inside the dream with him.

"We have some time," Daniel reported. "Your captor is taking a break. They've decided to leave your body for now."

Jack nodded his understanding. "Then it's back to the sarcophagus for me when he's ready."

"Yeah."

"Don't suppose you could do something to that sarcophagus for me?"

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"It was just a thought."

"I know."

Jack rested his head back against the pile of pillows he was propped up against. "Could you get a message to Carter and Teal'c? Tell them . . . tell them that I'm not sure, but I'm making a guess that it's Anubis that has me. He's got a flunky working me over but I'm pretty sure it's Anubis calling the shots. I won't tell him anything but they have to prepare for the worst if I can't hold out."

"I am not leaving you," Daniel said fiercely.

"That's an order, Daniel."

"Guess what - I'm not under your command anymore. You can't make me do a damned thing."

"Would you be reasonable? I have enough knowledge to seriously compromise Earth and the General has to know."

"I'm sure he's already realised that." Daniel glared at him angrily. "Jack, I will not leave you here alone. I can't and you can't make me."

"Daniel . . ."

"Jack."

There was a tense silence as they glared at each other. Jack could see the resolve in those blue eyes, Daniel's determination to stay no matter how bad it got, and eventually had to admit that he couldn't make Daniel leave. He needed his presence too much to force him away.

"I'm not leaving," Daniel repeated steadily.

Jack took a deep breath. "Ok."

"You should get some rest while there's time."

"I'm not sure I can."

"If you can't sleep just lie down with your eyes closed. It'll help."

Jack had to admit that he was nearing the end of his strength. It had been days since he had slept or been given more than stale, metallic-tasting water. Even if he didn't want to sleep he knew that it was now getting to be a struggle to stay awake. Daniel stood and looked down at him with that worried expression back on his face so Jack slid down in the bed and rolled onto his side.

"Eyes closed, Jack," Daniel reminded him.

Dutifully Jack closed his eyes. He heard the sound of Daniel sitting down in his armchair again and then there was just the quiet sound of two men breathing and the occasional pop from the fire. Was it possible to sleep in a dream?

Within moments the thought was gone and Jack was drifting down into the comforting darkness of sleep.

***

Daniel hovered in the corner of the room that Jack was being held in. He was concealing himself as well as he could but he still kept expecting someone to look up at him and start shooting - or worse.

Jack's body lay still on the floor of the room, a crumpled ruin. Daniel could just see the slight movement of his chest moving as he breathed but it was getting slower and there was a rattle in his throat that couldn't mean anything good. Jack was dying, again, but in a few minutes he would be revived in the sarcophagus so that his Goa'uld captor could continue his torture.

The sarcophagus dominated one side of the room. There were cruel implements displayed on the walls, some stained with blood, and the room's red-tinted lights added to the hellish appearance. A metal workbench lined one wall and the Goa'uld had left the pain-stick lying there when he left. The evil thing seemed to scream of pain and suffering. Next to it there was a shiny black device small enough to fit into the palm of a hand. It looked innocuous but Daniel had already seen that it could inflict painful burns to a victim's skin when it was activated.

The sound of marching boots caught his ear and Daniel shrank back further into his corner as the door opened. A Goa'uld entered flanked by two burly Jaffa and silently gestured towards Jack. The two Jaffa unceremoniously picked the colonel up by his hands and feet and dumped him into the sarcophagus. The lid closed and Daniel wanted to scream his fury at the look of cruel anticipation on the Goa'uld's face. With blank faces the two Jaffa took up positions on either side of the door.

Daniel watched the Goa'uld with complete, bone-deep hatred. His long, glossy black hair was offensive in the stinking room and his perfect face made Daniel almost itch to do to him what he had done to Jack. He wore black trousers and tunic with a long, elaborately embroidered open robe over them and every inch shouted his arrogant belief in his own superiority. The Goa'uld crossed to the workbench and spent a few minutes lovingly caressing the pain-stick while he waited for the sarcophagus to finish its job.

All too soon the lid of the sarcophagus was opening to reveal Jack, pale but alive and whole. There was a delighted smile on the face of the Goa'uld as he crossed the room and reached into the sarcophagus. With impressive strength, he pulled Jack out by the remains of his jacket and threw him across the room to smash into the wall and slide down to the floor. Jack's only response was a grunt as the air was forced out of his lungs and he glared up at the Goa'uld with open hatred. Daniel flinched at the hollow thump.

"My lord's patience grows thin," the Goa'uld said, picking up his burn-device. "I will know what you know."

"Go to hell," Jack ground out through gritted teeth.

Daniel silently cheered at his show of defiance.

"You will tell me." The Goa'uld's hand darted out and pressed his burn-device onto Jack's stomach where it was revealed through a tear in his shirt. "Tell me and I will stop this."

Jack's face was white and his jaw was clenched so tightly that Daniel almost expected to hear it shatter. But he didn't say anything, just looking at the Goa'uld with undisguised contempt.

The Goa'uld grunted and looked slightly disappointed. He twisted the device cruelly but Jack made no sound. As the smell of burning flesh filled the air he removed the device and stood, casually kicking the burn on Jack's stomach before turning away. He walked to the workbench and stared up at his collection of tools. The only comparison that Daniel could think of was a workman trying to decide exactly which tool would do what he needed.

There was movement from the floor and Daniel turned his attention back to Jack in time to see the colonel painfully pulling himself to his feet. He leaned against the wall for a moment to catch his breath before launching himself across the room at the Goa'uld. Apparently the Goa'uld had thought that Jack was helpless because the impact sent him sprawling across the bench and his eyes filled with surprise. That moment didn't last and the Goa'uld roared his fury as he reared up and thrust his elbow into Jack's stomach.

Jack stumbled back and that was all that the Goa'uld needed. He picked up the pain-stick and smashed it against the side of Jack's head. Jack crumpled into a dazed heap on the deck. The Goa'uld didn't even bother activating the pain-stick; instead he used it to rain blows down on Jack's shoulders and chest. Daniel felt hot rage begin to churn inside.

The Goa'uld was beyond reason now, beyond even the memory of why he was there. All he wanted was to take vengeance on the human that dared to continue to defy him. Throughout it all, the Jaffa on the door simply stood impassively awaiting orders.

With a howl of utter, mindless fury the Goa'uld threw away the pain-stick, sending it clattering across the deck. He raised his foot and brought it down with all his strength on Jack's right knee.

When Daniel heard the horrific sound of Jack's knee shattering and his howl of pain, the fury that had slowly been burning inside him finally reached the breaking point. As the Goa'uld continued to grind his foot into Jack's ruined leg, Daniel allowed his anger to take him. It gave him more energy that he had ever thought possible and he revealed himself in all his incandescent fury. The brilliant white light chased away the shadows in the room and the Jaffa door-guards shouted in fear. The Goa'uld paid no attention to him but that only made Daniel's anger burn hotter.

Daniel had no idea what he was doing. All he could feel was the rage inside. He reached out to the Goa'uld and the Jaffa and allowed all that fury to pour into them. Without knowing how he did it, concentrating on just making them stop hurting Jack, he reached inside and stopped their lives. All three dropped to the deck simultaneously, dead without a whimper.

Their deaths were not enough to cool Daniel's fury and he reached out further, seeking out the double life-signatures that he knew were Jaffa or Goa'uld. Each one that he found silently died the moment he touched them, dropping where they stood without time to raise a warning. Daniel reached . . . and reached . . . and suddenly stopped.

What was he doing? He was becoming like them, killing because each time he felt one die it send a rush of fierce satisfaction through him. Killing because he could and not out of justice or necessity. His grief had already been assuaged; this was pure, mindless rage.

Daniel shrank back into his corner, curling up into the tightest ball he could as he felt waves of shame and self-loathing pour through him. All his anger dissipated and with it went his energy until all he could produce was a feeble, flickering glow.

There was a low moan and then Jack's voice croaked, "Daniel?"

Jack. That was why he was here. Daniel moved closer and Jack's mouth twitched slightly as he attempted to smile through his bruises.

"Knew . . . you wouldn't . . . leave me," Jack said painfully. "Stubborn . . . bastard."

There was no way that Jack could make it out on his own. One eye was swollen almost shut and through the rips in his ragged uniform Daniel could see the red welts from the beating. There was a weeping burn on his stomach and his shattered knee was twisted at an odd angle. Even as Daniel watched, Jack tried to move that leg and cried out as pain shot through him. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw again, the tendons in his neck bulging with the effort of holding back his curses. Daniel moved closer to Jack and extended a tiny part of himself to gently brush down Jack's face. He was rewarded with a tiny sigh and Jack relaxed his muscles fractionally.

"Don't suppose you know how to get out of here?" Jack asked hopelessly.

In that moment, staring down at Jack covered in blood and bruises, Daniel felt a shock as he realised for the first time just how much he cared about Jack. Not just cared . . . loved. He was in love with Jack. It went beyond friendship and everything else he had always associated with the man. This was an incredible, soul-deep feeling and he knew that he would sacrifice anything to save him. The world would be a cold, dull place without Jack. He had never been able to leave him behind before and now that he knew his own feelings the certainty only grew stronger. Daniel would sacrifice anything to save Jack, including his own chance at immortality.

There was a way. It was only a tiny chance but as soon as Daniel considered it he knew that he had to take that one possibility. The knowledge of how to do what he wanted to was there as soon as he thought about it and filled him with the calm he needed. Daniel silently promised Jack that he would be back before rising and pushing through the wall.

It took him longer than he had thought it would to find what he wanted. Eventually Daniel found a hanger with a cargo ship that he thought might be close enough to get Jack to. He avoided looking at the motionless bodies of the Jaffa he had killed. Despite the way it felt, he knew that he hadn't killed everyone on the ship but the area around Jack's prison was completely empty. Luckily that included the hanger. The remaining Jaffa would already be on their way to investigate and Daniel needed to buy time so he disabled the doors to the rest of the ship. He had the first door closed and locked before he realised what he had done so the rest were easy. He travelled rapidly back to the room Jack was being held in, opening the doors they would need for their escape and sealing the doors that would allow any Jaffa through to stop them as he went.

The door to Jack's prison rolled open and Daniel rushed through. He felt completely drained but there was no time to stop and rest. Jack needed him and Daniel would not let him go.

There was relief in Jack's eyes when he spotted Daniel's faintly glowing form. "Thanks for the thought, but I don't think I'm gonna get out of that door on my own."

Daniel wanted to tell Jack not to worry, he would get them out, but instead he had to settle for lightly touching his shoulder before he moved back. This was going to be the hardest part and Daniel only had a vague idea of what he was going to do.

Hovering a foot above the floor, he focused his attention inward. Slowly, Daniel built up a picture of himself the way he had been before he ascended. He concentrated on that image, firming and fastening it until the image felt like a part of him. Then he began carefully forming that image around himself, squeezing and pushing himself into that form. At first he just felt like he was being compressed uncomfortably and pared down to his inner core. As Daniel continued to push and force himself into his image the discomfort grew into something almost painful. Twice he lost concentration completely at that point and had to begin again.

Finally he teetered on the edge between flesh and energy. The balance was so delicate that anything could send him either way. Daniel could feel his strength dying, being sapped away by the incredible efforts he had made so far, and felt a flare of anger that all this could be for nothing. That tiny boost of energy was all he needed to complete the transformation and with a rush of tangled sensation he was human again.

Daniel dropped to the deck and rolled onto his back. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten and his limbs were trembling with exhaustion. With a gasp he took a deep breath, desperately pulling air into his lungs and trying not to cough at the same time.

"Daniel?"

He turned his head to see Jack's slightly blurred form a few feet away. There was a long moment where all he could do was gulp air but Daniel eventually manage to roll over and heave himself onto his knees. He crawled across to Jack and gently touched his jaw, amazed to find that it was one of the few places without bruises.

"I'm here."

"Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"Are you . . ?"

Daniel gave him a tentative smile. "Yeah, I'm real. I'm alive."

With a sound that was dangerously close to a sob, although Daniel would never call him on it, Jack stretched up and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Daniel returned in hesitantly, hating the though of making Jack hurt anymore, until Jack tightening his grip and Daniel had to return the hug with everything he had. He could feel the material of Jack's uniform against his chest, each shaking breath that Jack took, Jack's callused hands on his back . . .

They both realised at the same moment and froze. Jack ran a hand cautiously down Daniel's back, stopping just at his hip.

"Daniel?"

"Mm?"

"Are you naked?"

"Um . . . apparently."

"Why?"

"How the hell should I know? I've never done this before."

"Oh."

Jack didn't release him or pull away. He began tracing slow circles on Daniel's back, muttering, "I've missed you. God, I've missed you."

Daniel buried his face in Jack's neck and held on, fiercely telling himself that now was not the time to get distracted. They could talk about everything when they got back; in this moment they needed to concentrate on their escape. But for a moment it felt so good to give in and borrow Jack's strength because he had none left. Eventually, though, he had to raise his head and interrupt.

"Jack, we have to get out of here," he said quietly.

The colonel's hands immediately stopped. "How?"

"There's a cargo ship in a hanger. We can get off this ship but we have to go now."

There was a brief pause as Jack's exhausted mind caught up. "Good plan."

"I can put you in the sarcophagus-"

"No."

"But-"

"No sarcophagus."

"I don't think you're addicted. You've only been in there when you were . . . almost dead. That's not going to get you-",

"Daniel, I'm not dying so no sarcophagus. Just get me off this ship." Jack paused. "Please."

"All right, no sarcophagus." Daniel waited. "Uh, Jack, you need to let go of me. We won't get far like this."

"Ok."

Slowly Jack's arms loosened until Daniel could pull away. He gathered all the energy he had and managed to stand without staggering too badly. Then he held a hand out to help Jack up.

"You might want to find some clothes first," Jack suggested, flushing slightly.

Daniel's blush probably ended at about knee level. "Yeah, I . . . um . . . yes."

Clothes . . . clothes . . . Daniel spotted the dead Goa'uld. The idea made his stomach churn and his skin crawl but there was nothing else. Jaffa armour would be even worse. It took time but he managed to pull the long overcoat off the body. He briefly touched the silk of the Goa'uld's tunic but decided that was a step too far. The robe would have to do.

It was too long and would drag on the floor, and that was without considering the problem of keeping the front closed. Daniel was wearing the thing to cover his dignity and it wouldn't do the job if every Jack, Sam and Jaffa could see what he was trying to cover. There was a knife in the display on the wall so Daniel used that to make some adjustments to the robe. It took several minutes and he was deeply conscious that Jack's eyes never left him during the entire process. He sat with his back to the colonel because he knew that it would have been impossible to concentrate if he had seen Jack watching him. A couple of times he glanced over his shoulder to check that Jack was still awake and the odd look in his eyes sent a shiver down Daniel's back each time.

Finally he donned the robe complete with alterations. A couple of inches were gone from the bottom and now formed a belt knotted around his waist to keep the robe closed. The sleeves had been sacrificed to make wrappings for his feet. Jack still had his boots but Daniel only had bare feet. The cloth wasn't much protection but it was better than nothing. Jack was lying on his back but his eyes were wide-open and looked reasonable alert.

"What do you think?" Daniel asked, modelling his new apparel.

"You'll do," Jack said with a small smile. "Like what you've done with the thing."

Daniel grinned and crouched next to him, holding the flaps of the robe closed. "If I give you a hand, do you think you can get up?"

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Jack asked rhetorically. "Just get me the fuck out of here."

The moment that Jack tried to move his injured leg, he cried out and swore with the pain. Daniel felt his eyes sting but he couldn't afford the time.

"You need to splint it," Jack gasped eventually, his face white and lines of pain radiating from his mouth.

Daniel nodded and looked around the room, desperately searching for something he could use. There were a couple of long, metallic black rods hanging from the wall. He didn't even want to think about what they might have been used for. Another few inches of his robe were sacrificed to tie it together into a crude splint. The process of splinting Jack's shattered knee was a memory that Daniel desperately wished he could block out. Sam's description of splinting Jack's broken leg when they were trapped in the Arctic couldn't have the power to convey how terrible it was to deliberately hurt someone that much. Even knowing that it was the only way didn't make it easier. Daniel was shaking almost as badly as Jack by the time he had finished but there was no time to rest.

With gasps and muttered cursed they managed to get Jack into a standing position but it was obvious that there was no way he could put weight onto his leg. Wincing with sympathetic pain, Daniel put his arm around Jack's waist and held on tightly, pulling Jack's left arm across his shoulders and anchoring it with his free hand.

"Lean on me, Jack," he commanded.

As they began to hobble towards the door, Jack whispered, "I always do."

***

Daniel looked like hell. His face was white as a sheet, there were dark smudges under his eyes and Jack could feel him trembling slightly. Whatever he had been through, he was nearing the end of his strength but his face was filled with stubborn determination. Jack thought that Daniel would probably carry him if he had to but there was no way that Jack would let that happen so he grimly hobbled on.

Concentrating on Daniel made it easier for Jack to do what he had to. Every step they took sent waves of agony through his leg and the bruises from his beatings were starting to ache in earnest. The burn on his stomach felt like it was on fire but Jack considered that to be a good sign. If the nerves had been damaged he wouldn't have been able to feel it; it meant that the burn wasn't as deep as he had first thought.

Jack pulled his mind away from his injuries and focused on Daniel again. The arm around his waist had a tight grip and he could feel the muscles straining in Daniel's broad shoulders as he hauled them both along the corridors. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this strong, capable man was the geek he had first met all those years ago. But even back then Daniel had been stronger than he looked.

Physically Daniel looked the way he had in the weird shared dream. He had even kept the slight tan. Out of the corner of his eye Jack could see Daniel squinting and realised that despite whatever happened to him during his ascension, he was still shortsighted. It probably wasn't all that funny, but Jack began laughing quietly anyway.

"What's so funny?" Daniel asked, a faintly puzzled frown on his face.

Jack took a deep breath to calm down. The pain and tension were obviously getting to him. "Nothing."

As they continued down the corridors Daniel kept shooting him odd, sidelong glances. Jack wanted to ask what that expression in his eyes meant but didn't quite have the courage.

Every now and again they came across the body of a dead Jaffa. Daniel looked away each time and his mouth tightened into a grimace. Eventually Jack's curiosity got the better of him.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Daniel shook his head and stared straight ahead, even though his eyes said that something was very wrong. "No time."

"You sure?"

"Maybe later." The archaeologist tightened his arm around Jack's waist. "It's nothing important."

Jack was not sure about that but decided not to press it. They were both using up all the energy they had to get out of here; talking would only use it up faster. He briefly considered telling Daniel to get out of here, to leave him because he was slowing them down. That thought was dismissed as soon as it formed. Daniel was only here because he wanted to rescue Jack. Asking him to leave Jack behind would belittle the incredible sacrifice that Daniel had made.

The sacrifice Daniel had made . . . that was something else Jack would have to think about later. There was no time now and it was something that would require deep thought and probably the conclusion that there was no way he could ever repay Daniel for what he had given up.

"Almost there," Daniel panted as they turned another corner. "Just a little further."

"I'm good to go for another few miles," Jack said lightly but his groan as another wave of pain from his knee flooded his leg made those words a lie. "Just get me to that damned ship. Don't worry about anything else."

There was an open door a little further up the corridor and as Daniel pulled him through, Jack realised that it was the promised hanger. He wanted to ask why all the doors they needed were open and no Jaffa had appeared to investigate but he pushed that thought into his 'later' box. There would be time to talk about lots of things later.

He felt Daniel release a relieved sigh as they spotted the cargo ship sitting in the middle of the large hanger.

"You weren't sure it would still be here?" Jack asked.

Daniel shook his head, his face still lined with tension. The ship looked a long way away and Jack's neck prickled at the thought of crossing that open expanse without any cover to duck behind if the Jaffa finally put in an appearance. He tried to take a bit more of his own weight to relieve some of the pressure on Daniel but it was impossible. All he could do was lean on Daniel and hope he had enough strength for both of them. By the time they got to the door of the ship, Daniel was half-carrying him and Jack could feel the world beginning to spin uncomfortably around him.

They stopped at the door and Daniel keyed it open, shooting Jack a worried glance. "Are you ok?" A small sigh. "Sorry, dumb question. Are you going to manage?"

"Find me somewhere to sit and I'll be . . . fuck!" Pain shot up his leg as his foot caught on the edge of the doorway.

Daniel virtually dragged him to one of the chairs in front of the flight consoles and carefully lowered him into it. Jack put his arms around Daniel's neck to take some of the strain off the archaeologist's arms and cursed again as his leg touched the seat. When he was finally sitting down he closed his eyes and sat panting for a long moment. Daniel was resting his head against Jack's shoulder breathing in short gasps, as though that final effort had been too much. Jack managed to catch his breath eventually and ruffled a hand through Daniel's hair.

"You ok?"

Daniel nodded but didn't stand up. "Just . . . need a . . . moment."

"Take your time, catch your breath," Jack advised. "You've done great getting us this far."

Raising his head, Daniel flushed slightly but his eyes shone with pleasure at the compliment. There was even a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Jack suddenly realised that he had missed it more than he had ever imagined before. Maybe one of the ways he could repay Daniel was by making sure the man smiled more often.

"We should get moving," Daniel said when his breathing calmed.

Jack found that he was oddly reluctant to let the archaeologist move away but the threat of being taken back to his cell was enough to force him let to go. Daniel straightened up and took the other seat at the flight consol, his long fingers moving rapidly across the board. Information flashed up on the screen and he let out a small sigh of relief.

"Got a plan?" Jack asked.

"I have now." Daniel pointed at an incomprehensible - to Jack - line of Goa'uld glyphs. "There's a planet with a Stargate in this system. It's got a ring platform so all you have to do is get us close enough to this planet and we can transport down."

"'All'?" Jack muttered, staring down at the glowing red globe that he knew steered the ship.

Daniel frowned. "Jack, if you can't do this then we're stuck here."

Jack looked up into Daniel's face. Maybe if Daniel was on his own he could . . . who was he trying to kid? Staying behind was not an option - Daniel would never leave him. The cargo ship was the only way so he had damn well better hope that the odd lessons he'd had from Teal'c had stuck. Jack took a deep breath and rested his hands on the red globe.

***

The view through the window of the cargo ship was barely moving despite their speed. Daniel kept expecting to see warnings about Death Gliders on the computer read-outs but so far the space around them was empty. At the speed they were travelling it would be another half-hour before they reached the planet. It was tempting to ask Jack to go faster but he knew that the colonel was going as fast as he dared. The one time that he had asked if Jack was sure that they couldn't go any faster he had been told abruptly that if he wanted to complain he could damn well drive the thing himself. Daniel had hastily declined and shut up.

That couldn't stop him wishing they were already on the planet, or better yet on Earth.

Daniel risked a sideways glance at Jack and his mouth tightened at the sight. Jack's face was slightly flushed, there was sweat beading his forehead and his eyes were too bright. Damn, that meant that a fever was beginning to set in, probably from the open sores and burns on his body. Even as he watched, Jack shook his head and reached up to brush sweat out of his eyes. There were lines around his eyes and mouth that Daniel knew were from the pain he had been in for so long. His leg was stretched out awkwardly due to the splint and Jack occasionally cursed when a careless movement sent more pain shooting through it.

Getting back to Earth so Jack could get the medical treatment he so desperately needed was now the only motivation Daniel had. He was so exhausted that it was a struggle to stay conscious but if he gave into that, Jack would be as good as dead. It would be no good getting to the planet if Jack couldn't get himself off the ship, and right now Daniel had strong doubts about whether Jack could stand even with his help.

Flying the ship was what seemed to be keeping Jack going for now. All Daniel could do was sit and wait. He tried to moisten his dry lips and realised that he was incredibly thirsty. If he was that thirsty then how must Jack be feeling? Daniel took another sideways glance at Jack. There were definitely signs of a fever there and that meant that Jack needed water if he was going to make it back to Earth. Daniel wasn't sure whether he could get Jack through the Stargate if he was unconscious.

Jack didn't respond when Daniel told him that he was going to have a look in the hold and that alone was worrying. Jack always noticed everything that went on around him.

The hold of the cargo ship was filled with boxes, crates and junk. Daniel stared at it hopelessly for a moment before squaring his shoulders determinedly and plunging in. One of the crates held a supply of zats and he hid one in his robe. He hesitated for a moment before admitting to himself that Jack was barely fit enough to move. Giving him a zat would make him think he could take care of them both and would probably be more dangerous than letting him go unarmed. If anything tried to stop them getting back to Earth it would be Daniel who would be the protector and not Jack.

Most of the crates were filled with useless junk that Daniel could not use. If there had been any way to get it back to Earth he was sure Carter and her scientists would have loved tinkering with it all but that was impossible. From what had been packed in the hold Daniel guessed that the ship had been ready to go somewhere when they acquired it. He had no idea what the former owner had been planning, but there was a lot of ordinance so it must have been something fairly dangerous. Stopping a Goa'uld plan that involved that much firepower would have felt pretty good under any other circumstances.

He found a couple of canteens of water in the last box he opened. There was nothing he could use as bandages but some work with a knife sacrificed a few more inches of his robe to produce several strips of cloth. A thorough search showed that there was no food but Daniel did not regret that lack. His stomach rolled queasily at the thought of eating and he was sure that Jack would probably feel the same. Not eating was dangerous but he knew that throwing up would just sap the little strength they both had left. When he was sure that he had scavenged everything they could use, he carried his prizes back to the main section of the cargo ship.

Daniel rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. The colonel didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixed on the read-out in front of him and Daniel could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Jack, I need you to look at me," Daniel said softly. "Jack?"

After a moment Jack blinked and slowly turned his head. "Daniel?"

Daniel gave him a small smile. "Yeah. How are you feeling?"

Jack swallowed and winced. "I've felt better."

Nodding, Daniel put his armful of supplies down on the floor and reached out to rest a hand on Jack's forehead. His skin felt too hot and as Daniel trailed his hand down to cup his cheek, Jack leaned into the touch and his eyes drifted shut. For a moment Daniel let his hand stay there, feeling the rasp of a hot, bristled cheek against his palm, before he sternly told himself that he was supposed to treating Jack, not feeling him up. He quickly pulled his hand away, knelt down and concentrated on the flasks of water. When he looked up, Jack was staring down at him with feverish, confused eyes. Daniel opened one of the flasks and sniffed it carefully, relieved to find that it smelled of fresh water.

He held out the flask. "Here, you should drink some of this."

Jack nodded and took the flask. "Thanks."

Daniel waited for him to drink as much as he wanted. Wordlessly Jack held out the canteen when he was finished and the message in his eyes said that he wouldn't let Daniel not drink. As Daniel slowly took some sips from the flask, his eyes were drawn to the view out of the cargo ship's window. A cloud covered planet now filled the window and it grew closer as he watched. He nudged Jack, who turned to the displays and did something to the red globe that controlled the ship. Gradually the ship slowed until they were in orbit around the planet.

"We should be within range of the rings," Jack said, his voice still sounding hoarse. "You can operate them?"

Daniel nodded and fastened the lid on his flask. He opened the other one, sniffed to check the water was still fresh, and then picked up one of the strips of cloth. He folded into a wad and looked up at Jack.

"I'm going to clean you up a little," he said firmly. "It will make you feel a bit more comfortable."

Jack grumbled but sat back in his chair to allow Daniel to clean some of the wounds. The lack of serious protest was worrying but Daniel could hardly say, "Excuse me, why aren't you arguing?"

He carefully pulled Jack's T-shirt and jacket away from his stomach and winced at the angrily red, weeping burn. Jack's clothes were torn, filthy and covered in dried blood. They looked more like rags than a uniform and Daniel had to be careful not to tug too hard in case the seams came apart even more. The skin around the burn felt hot to touch. Daniel held his wad of fabric just below the burn and carefully began to dribble water over it. Jack hissed and then went quiet as the water soothed the inflamed burn slightly. The wad of fabric below the burn caught the falling water so that Jack's pants didn't get soaked. When the flask was three-quarters empty Daniel stopped. He dropped the soaked fabric on the floor and gently wound a dry strip around Jack' stomach to form a dry dressing. Knotting the ends, Daniel looked up and tried to smile reassuringly.

"That's the best I can do," he said.

Jack nodded. "It's great, Daniel. You're doing great."

Daniel wadded up another strip of fabric and wetted it with some of their precious water. Jack's lack of protest again worried him, but there was no time to think about it. He reached up and cleaned some of the dried blood away from Jack's face. There were a few cuts on his neck and arms and he cleaned around those too. There wasn't enough fabric to make more bandages, or at least there wasn't enough to do so and protect Daniel's dignity, but all the cuts had stopped bleeding so Daniel had to assume that was good enough. He poured more water onto the cloth and cleaned the sweat off Jack's forehead. The colonel leaned into the cooling wetness.

"Hot?" Daniel asked.

"It's a little warm," Jack agreed.

There was nothing more that Daniel could do. He made Jack take a few more sips of water and then stood.

"We should get moving again."

Jack took a deep breath and nodded. "I might . . . need a little help."

If Jack was asking for help then he had to be in bad shape. Daniel tried not to think about that.

Instead the archaeologist tried to work out how to get Jack back onto his feet. After a little thought, Jack beckoned and Daniel leaned forward. The colonel immediately put his arms around Daniel's neck and after a moment comprehension dawned. Daniel put his arms around Jack's back, under his arms, and with some grunting and cursing they managed to get Jack upright. For a breathless moment they swayed together, almost toppling backwards, and Daniel could feel Jack's breath on his lips.

"Nice to see you, Doctor Jackson," Jack said, grinning.

Daniel could feel heat rushing to his face. It almost sounded like Jack was flirting but he was also beginning to burn with fever so he might not be entirely aware of what he was saying.

"Jack, don't be an ass. We have to get moving," Daniel said abruptly.

Jack's face fell but a moment later he was cursing and groaning as he accidentally brushed his leg against the chair behind him. Daniel winced.

"Don't do that," he said absently, pulling Jack's arm around his neck and shifting so that he could put one arm around his waist. "You'll just make it hurt."

"I noticed," Jack ground out between gritted teeth.

Painfully, they began hobbling towards the rings. Daniel was never sure how he did it, but somehow he managed to key the controls and drag Jack over in time for the rings to descend around them with their familiar buzzing sound. Just as the first ring went past his face, the warning he had been waiting for sounded from the computer. A Goa'uld Death Glider was apparently closing in on their position. He glanced at Jack but the colonel's eyes were glazed and he looked more than half unconscious. There would be no hanging around on the planet surface. They would have to move on the moment they got there. Daniel willed the rings to descend faster. He had never thought of them as slow before, but right now they seemed to be taking forever. Then between one breath and the next, the interior of the cargo ship was replaced with a view of rolling grassy plans dotted with the occasional scrubby bush.

There was no time to look at the view or wonder about the faint purple tinge to the grass around them. The Stargate was a few feet away and Daniel moved to the DHD quickly, ignoring the burning in his muscles as he was forced to take most of Jack's weight. He was holding Jack's arm across his shoulders by tightly gripping his wrist but as soon as he released it that arm started to fall and Jack almost fell the floor. Daniel grabbed his wrist again and shook him gently.

"Jack? Jack!" His voice was filled with worry and fear. "Come on, Jack. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer."

Jack started and his eyes popped open. "I'm awake."

"I know. I need you to hold yourself up while I dial."

It took a moment for the light of understanding to appear in Jack's eyes and then his arm around Daniel's shoulder firmed and he stood slightly straighter. "'K. Got a plan?"

"Do we still have a team on Abydos?"

"Um . . . SG-14 . . . cultural thing." There was a pause as Jack's fever-fogged brain processed the thought. "That's a good plan."

Daniel slammed his hand down on the red crystal and the Stargate engaged with a roar. "Thanks."

Jack continued muttering "Good plan" as Daniel grabbed his wrist again to secure his arm across his shoulders and hauled them both up the two steps on the dais the Stargate was set on.

"Danny? We going home?" Jack asked urgently just as they were about to step through the rippling blue wormhole.

"We're going to Abydos and then we're going home. It's just going to be a little bit longer."

"I think I want to pass out now."

"No!" Daniel wished he had a spare hand to slap Jack's face but it was taking all his strength just to hold the man upright and move them to the Gate. "No passing out. Stay with me just a little bit longer and then you can sleep all you want."

"Hmm . . . 'k."

He didn't give the colonel any time to argue further, taking the final step through the Gate and pulling him along. They emerged in the familiar, dimly lit room under the pyramid on Abydos. Daniel stumbled as, for a moment, Jack's good leg gave out but then the colonel pulled himself together again and Daniel managed to steady himself and look around. There was an ominous clicking sound and Daniel realised that there were several loaded guns trained on them.

He had no hands to spare so he had to hope his expression looked peaceful. "Don't shoot!"

There was a long, tense moment as both parties waited for the other to make a move. Daniel could see two men in SGC uniforms and three young Abydonians, their robes and dark hair the only clue he had to identify the slightly blurred figures. All five held P-90s confidently and he was sure that none of them would hesitate to shoot if he made the wrong move. With a quiet roar, the Stargate disengaged behind him and Daniel blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

"Doctor Jackson?" one of the SGC men said hesitantly, taking a step forward. "Colonel O'Neill? Is it really you?"

Daniel almost felt dizzy with relief. He had no idea who the man was, but at least he seemed to recognise them. "Yes, it's us. We're them. Um . . . yes."

"Last I heard, you've been dead for six months and the colonel was taken prisoner by the Goa'uld two weeks ago," the airman said doubtfully.

"Rumours of my demise have been a little exaggerated," Daniel said dryly, trying to think through the exhaustion that was clouding his mind. "It's a long story. Jack - Colonel O'Neill and I need to get back to Earth immediately. Can we borrow your GDO Captain . . .?"

"It's Lieutenant. Lieutenant Brown." The young airman hesitated. "I don't know . . ."

"We're not asking you to give us the codes," Daniel said, his voice sharp with suppressed tiredness and irritation. "Just send us to Earth."

"I don't really have the authorisation to do that, sir."

Daniel ground his teeth. "Who does?"

"Major Walsh," Brown answer promptly. "He's our C.O."

They were so close, and now it was the military bureaucracy that Daniel had spent years struggling through that was holding them up. It sent a flare of anger through him and he was surprised to find that he sounded almost as angry and sarcastic as Jack at his worst. "Then I suggest you find him and get authorisation before you end up with a dead body to explain away. Jack needs urgent medical attention. We're not Goa'uld spies, we're not Zatarcs - do you think two injured people can start an invasion of Earth? Get someone, get us home or by God I'll . . . I'll . . ."

The other airman immediately lowered his gun and moved towards the door to the pyramid at little short of a run.

"Way to go Daniel," Jack whispered.

"I didn't think that would work."

"When you get angry people notice because you're normally so sweet and nice."

Daniel glanced sideways to see if Jack was joking but his eyes were closed and he barely looked conscious.

"Thanks . . . I think."

"Sir!" The second airman had returned. "Radio message from Major Walsh - send them through and General Hammond can sort them out when they get there."

Brown considered them for a moment before nodding. "OK. Stand back and I'll dial you through."

Daniel quickly moved away from the Gate. His shoulders were beginning to burn from the effort of holding Jack upright for so long but at last the end was in sight. The familiar whoosh of the Stargate activating made his head swim with relief. Almost before the vortex settled back into the rippling blue surface, he was moving towards it trusting the lieutenant to input the GDO code. Jack tried to help but he was so close to unconsciousness that Daniel was half-dragging him up the ramp and through the Stargate.

The Gate room seemed harshly bright after the dimness of the room on Abydos. Daniel squinted but could only make out slightly blurred figures in green uniforms. He had no doubt that every one of them had a gun pointing straight at him. Standard operating procedure wouldn't have changed in six months.

General Hammond's voice rang through the room. "Close the iris! Stand-down, airmen. Medical team to the embarkation room on the double."

The familiar sounds and smells of Earth sent waves of relief to Daniel and he swayed dizzily, the room spinning around him. After a beat he realised that it was not the relief making him dizzy. The room lurched again and he swallowed. His limbs suddenly seemed to be made from jelly and every muscle screamed in agony. Jack moaned quietly. Daniel shook his head but that only made the spinning worse. He locked his knees and held on grimly, determined that he would not let Jack fall.

It took him a while to realise that there were hands pulling at him, trying to take Jack. He fuzzily tried to protest but the hands ignored him and gently pulled Jack away.

"It's ok, Doctor Jackson, we've got him," a female voice said.

Daniel reluctantly let go of Jack and staggered as the weight across his shoulders was taken away. Hands caught him and steadied him.

"Doctor Jackson?"

Everything spun crazily around him. He was not going to be carried down to the infirmary. He could walk. He was alive and he could walk. Fuzzy white figures were surrounding him and for a moment Daniel tried to fight back.

"Doctor Jackson, it's all right. You're safe now."

His knees trembled and gave out. He gasped as he landed on the hard metal of the ramp. Blackness tugged at the edge of his vision, tempting him with the seductive promise of sleep. He had to make sure that Jack was being treated first.

"Someone get me a gurney!"

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment.

"On three. One . . . two . . . three . . . his skin is like ice. I need a blanket here . . ."

***

Slowly Daniel swam to the surface. He could distantly hear an annoying, rhythmic bleeping sound. An alarm? Something . . . it was familiar. The word was just at the edge of his mind but he could not quite reach it. He struggled upwards, away from the cloying richness of unconsciousness. His eyes popped open and he blinked in the sudden brightness.

A heart-monitor. That's what the sound was.

He turned his head on the pillow and could just make out the screen with its wavy green lines. There was an empty bed next to him and he could hear whispers somewhere just beyond his field of vision.

"Um . . ."

His voice sounded rusty and tired and his throat felt raw, but it must have been loud enough because a moment later Janet Fraiser was standing next to his bed with a hand on his forehead.

"Hi Daniel," she said quietly, a smile in her voice. "So you've decided to rejoin us at last."

"Yeah, I . . . what happened?" Daniel winced as the effort of speaking scratched his throat.

Janet picked up a glass from the cabinet next to his bed and Daniel gratefully sipped water through a straw.

"You passed out when you got through the Stargate," Janet told him. "You've been unconscious for two days."

"Jack?"

"He's-"

"Doc!" That was definitely Jack's voice roaring from his left, and Daniel turned his head only to see curtains blocking his view. "Doc! Is that Daniel? Is he awake?"

Janet rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir, he's awake."

"Well? Are you gonna make me come over there and find out for myself?"

"Colonel, you know better than that." Janet began slowly walking around Daniel's bed. "If I see you so much as thinking about getting out of that bed before I say you can, you won't like the consequences."

There was some disgruntled muttering from behind the curtains before Janet swept them aside. Daniel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he took in the sight of Jack, battered and bruised but unmistakably alive. Something cold and metallic brushed against his hand and he looked down to see Janet holding out a pair of glasses. Gratefully, Daniel slid them on and the room came into focus. Jack had black bruises on his face with the edges just starting to turn yellow, there were white bandages on his arms, white strips over cuts and scratches and a suspicious lumpy mass over his right leg, but he was alive and the joy shining from his eyes was almost overwhelming. A huge grin lit Jack's face up and Daniel drank it all in.

"Hey," Daniel said softly, not sure if he could manage anything else.

"Hey yourself," Jack said just as softly. "You look . . . actually, you look like hell."

Light, that was the way to go. The heavy stuff could come later. Daniel forced himself to respond in the same way. "Have you seen a mirror lately? You aren't exactly going to be winning beauty competitions for a while, either."

"You're meant to be too polite to say anything about that."

Daniel snorted.

"This reunion is touching, it really is," Janet said dryly, "but there are a few tests I need to run on Daniel, Colonel, so if you'll excuse us?"

They exchanged commiserating glances before Janet pulled the curtains around Daniel's bed. He knew that Jack was still close enough to hear every word but somehow it did not matter. There was very little that Jack didn't know about him already.

Janet began shining lights in his eyes and testing reflexes, explaining as she went. "You were exhausted and dehydrated when you came through the Gate. Your electrolytes and hormone levels were completely out of whack - what did you do to yourself? Everything seems to be getting back to normal now but you're probably going to be feeling pretty weak for a while. This body went through an incredible shock."

"Am I . . . normal?" Daniel asked with a wince. It was not something he really wanted to know, but he had no experience with changing from a non-corporeal existence back to flesh and if he had made a mistake . . .

"So far, I haven't found anything to suggest you're not healthy." Janet smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll know more when I get your DNA tests back and have done a complete CAT scan."

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment as relief sheeted through him and then smiled up at her. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me - from what the Colonel's told me, it was all you."

"Doc!" That was Jack's irritated voice again. "What's taking so long?"

Janet's eyes flashed as she called back, "This would go a lot faster if you'd stop interrupting me."

"Has he been like that for long?" Daniel asked.

"Only since he woke up."

"Ah."

"Are you finished in there yet, Doc? Daniel, if you need it I can come through there and rescue you."

Janet sighed and put her stethoscope away before sweeping back the curtains dividing Daniel from Jack. "Sir, you know you can't right now. I'm sure you heard everything I said - Daniel's fine."

"Well . . . good." Jack shifted and plucked at the blanket covering him. "That's . . . that's good."

There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence before Daniel frowned at the man in the next bed. "How are you, Jack?"

"Fine, fine."

"Cut the crap, Jack, I know better. The last time I saw you, you were barely conscious and severely injured."

Jack's lips tightened and he avoided Daniel's eyes. "Doc, I don't know all the fancy medical stuff so why don't you tell him?"

A cold chill settled in Daniel's stomach. Oh, god, something was dreadfully wrong and Jack couldn't tell him. Daniel hadn't got him out it time.

Daniel was pulled out of his spiralling worry by Janet's hand lightly touching his arm. "Daniel, he will be fine. There was a lot of damage to his knee and I had to operate as soon as you got him here. His patella was smashed and there was significant damage to the ligaments and tendons. You probably saw the bleeding from where a couple of the bone fragments pierced the flesh. It was tricky work, but I've managed to put it all back together again."

"I can hear a but . . ."

"It's going to take a long time and a lot of therapy to repair the damage. If he can go back to active duty, it won't be for a while."

"If?"

Finally Jack looked up and met Daniel's eyes. "I might not be fit enough to go back to what we do. I won't do much good in the field if I can't move around easily."

"I'm sorry, I should have done something-"

"No! Daniel, you got me out of there alive - you couldn't have done more." Jack shifted slightly and winced. "Damn, I want to get over there. Doc, can't I get into a chair or something?"

"Absolutely not, Colonel."

"Jack-"

"No, Daniel, don't go there." Jack focused on him so intently that Daniel could not ignore the message in his eyes. "You did everything you could - nobody else could have done that. Some stuff is pretty fuzzy, but I do remember what you did. If you want to blame anyone for what's happened blame that scum-sucking snake-head, but don't blame yourself."

Janet, the infirmary, everything faded into the background as Daniel communicated silently with Jack. He wanted to blame himself for not getting Jack out sooner, for not finding a way to stop the torture sooner . . . but Jack's eyes were telling him that Jack didn't blame him so he shouldn't. It would not be that easy, but Daniel promised that he would try.

Distantly, he heard a throat clearing and then Janet asked, "Do you feel up to visitors?"

Reluctantly, Daniel pulled his attention back to the doctor. "I guess so. For a while, anyway."

"Good. There are a couple of people outside who want to see you. Actually, the entire base wants to see you but they'll have to do."

As Janet hurried to the doors, Daniel glanced at Jack. "How do you feel?"

Jack shrugged. "Not bad, considering. The doc said I'll be up on crutches in a day or two. Everything else is mostly superficial."

"I'm glad." Daniel offered him a quick smile. "I'd hate to think I did all that work for nothing."

"Not nothing. Never nothing."

"Daniel!"

He turned his head to see Sam walking through the door with a huge smile on her face. Teal'c followed her and Daniel was surprised to see an equally joyful smile on his face. The Jaffa rarely smiled, so realising that he was the cause of that happy expression made him suddenly aware of just how much he meant to his friends.

Sam almost ran to the bed, dropped a bag on the end of it and pulled Daniel into a rib-crushing hug. He returned it with all the strength he had, feeling tears stinging his eyes and a lump in his throat. There were a couple of suspicious sniffs just below his ear so at least he wasn't the only one feeling embarrassingly overwhelmed. He could smell Sam's perfume, feel her slender body and had to hold on tightly to convince himself it was real.

"Jesus, Carter, put him down - he's not going anywhere."

There was another sniff and then Daniel felt the arms around him loosen and Sam stepped back awkwardly, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Teal'c immediately stepped forward and held out his arm. Daniel clasped it firmly, almost wincing at Teal'c's return grip, and grinned up at the large man.

"It is good to see you well again, DanielJackson," Teal'c said gravely, although he was still smiling and there was a happiness in his eyes that Daniel had rarely seen before. "You have been much missed."

"Thanks, Teal'c. I've missed you guys, too."

With a final squeeze, Teal'c relinquished his arm and Sam stepped forward again, this time holding the bag she had come in with. "A lot of the guys on the base wanted to send you stuff so I promised I'd bring some of it."

Daniel looked at the bag. "Some?"

Sam rummaged in the bag. "There's . . . uh, Feretti sent this." She held out a large box of tissues. "Janet said she needed to get your allergy meds started again before you can start getting flowers. Nyan sent this up - he said you'll get a kick out of it."

Daniel turned the tablet inscribed with cuneiform in his hands. Translating it would give him something to do until he got out of the infirmary.

Sam held out a couple of boxes of chocolates. "I thought you'd be sick if you ate all the candy you've been sent. The rest is in storage until you're ready for it. And these are your cards."

She tipped the bag upside down and an avalanche of envelopes flowed out, cascading across the bed. Some of the unfortunate ones slipped onto the floor but all Daniel could do was stare at the sheer number of them.

"They're all . . . mine?"

"Yup. Of course, you've only been back for a couple of days so there are a few teams that haven't got back from off-world missions. You'll probably be getting a few more over the next few days." Sam smiled at him hopefully, her eyes looking slightly too bright. "Everyone wanted you to know how much you've been missed. You make a difference here. Uh . . . we're all kind of hoping you'll be staying. I'm hoping that you'll be staying. This place has been empty without you."

It was all too much. Daniel was still too exhausted, his head was starting to swim and he had never imagined that so many people would have missed him. He glanced back to Jack, feeling some of the uncertainty fade as he met those brown eyes, before looking up at Sam again.

"Can you tell everyone that . . . that I'm not going anywhere for a while?"

He was gathered into another tight hug as Sam ran out of words. Over the top of her head he saw Janet approach and silently pleaded with her to rescue him. Exhaustion was suddenly hitting him and he needed to close his eyes and process things for a while.

Janet put a hand on Sam's back. "Hey, Daniel needs to rest. You can come back in the morning, ok?"

Sam stood up wiping her eyes again. "Sorry, Daniel, I didn't mean to get so weepy on you."

Daniel smiled gently at her. "Don't worry about it."

"Now you go and get some rest. Doctor's orders." Janet glared at Sam and Teal'c. "Both of you."

Teal'c gracefully inclined his head. "Very well, DoctorFraiser. We will return tomorrow."

When the ward was quiet again and a nurse had taken all the envelopes away, Daniel lay back with a tired sigh. Despite having been unconscious for two days, sleep was incredibly appealing. He could feel it just at the edges tempting him down.

"For what it's worth," Jack said quietly, "I'm glad you're not going anywhere."

Daniel wanted to reply but sleep rushed in to take the words away. Instead he closed his eyes and drifted off with a slight smile on his lips.

***

Infirmary food seemed to undergo a strange metamorphosis when it was wheeled through the doors, Jack concluded as he slowly turned a piece of toast between his fingers. It started out as hot, edible stuff in the kitchens but at some point it always turned into cold, tasteless crap. He bent the toast and watched as it slowly returned to its original shape.

"Are you going to eat that or play with it?" Janet asked, approaching his bed warily.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No, sir. Eat it before it gets cold."

Jack held out the rubberised bread. "It's already cold. If you like it so much, you eat it."

He glanced at the empty bed a couple of feet away where Daniel had lain for the past couple of days. The clutter of cards and gifts on the bedside unit identified it as his but the archaeologist had been wheeled away at first light for more tests. Jack hadn't realised until then just how much he had been relying on his presence, even if he was unconscious.

Janet followed his gaze. "We'll bring him back soon, sir. I'm sure he won't be happy if he knows you aren't eating properly."

"I'm not hungry." Jack dropped the toast onto his plate. "It doesn't taste right, anyway."

The doctor made a disapproving 'hmm' noise.

"When can I get out of here, Doc? I'm going crazy."

With a pointed look at his pile of mangled toast, Janet said, "When I think you're ready. Sir, you went through an extreme trauma and I'm not going to release you until I'm certain you can cope on your own."

"I'm fine. Little beat up, maybe, but fine."

"I'm scheduling an appointment with Doctor McKenzie for you. He'll be able to work out a counselling regime with you."

"I'm not nuts." Jack glared at her. "I don't need to see that . . . quack."

Janet fixed him with her steeliest gaze. "Sir, you know as well as I do that counselling is standard practise after the kind of trauma you've been through."

"And you know as well as I do that it didn't to a hell of a lot of good last time so it probably won't this time."

"If you want to get out of here you'll do as I say and that includes mandatory counselling. If you don't want to see McKenzie, that's fine. He'll be able to refer you to someone who's able to deal with your concerns. But you will see someone and that's an order."

"I don't give a flying-"

"Nice to see you're as cheerful as ever, Jack."

He turned to see Daniel being wheeled into the infirmary in his wheelchair. The archaeologist waved tiredly. "You really do know how to charm a room. I could hear you three floors away."

"Hi, Daniel." Jack actually felt slightly embarrassed about yelling at Janet. Slightly.

With a nurse's help Daniel crawled into bed and lay there panting for a moment. "I now see what they meant about feeling a little weak for a while."

"I'll leave you to talk," Janet said and closed a curtain around their beds before retreating to her office.

"I'm not talking about it," Jack said stubbornly, tearing a piece of toast up.

"I never assumed you would." Daniel wriggled into a sitting position. "But you could fill me on what I've missed over the past few months."

***

Daniel watched as Jack made his slow, painful way down the length of the infirmary. He had been awake for over a day now and this was the first time that he had seen Jack out of his bed. In fact, it was the first time that Janet had allowed Jack to get out of the bed. Jack had been starting to get . . . restless was the politest way to describe it.

There had been a fierce discussion with the nurse before Jack finally appeared from behind the curtains. From what Daniel had been able to overhear, Jack was still being forced to wear one of the hospital gowns that opened down the back and he was a little reluctant to display his assets to the entire infirmary staff. Daniel had been ashamed at his instinct to call out that he didn't mind the idea at all. He had quashed that and felt incredibly glad that nobody was a mind reader. Instead, a nurse had given Jack the pants from a set of scrubs and cut up one leg so that it would fit over his brace.

That was why Jack was now scowling at everyone in sight as he slowly swung along on his crutches. He had been boasting that after the number of broken legs he'd had crutches were second nature to him. Daniel thought that boast must have been an over-exaggeration. Either that, or the addition of the bulky, heavy brace was taking some time to get used to.

Jack cursed as he accidentally knocked his leg against an inconveniently placed bed.

"Colonel, don't overdo it," Janet cautioned from her seat between Jack's bed and Daniel's.

Jack's response would have made a Marine blush but Janet just raised an eyebrow and continued to watch him.

Daniel actually found Jack's determination and bloody-mindedness comforting. It made a change from the sick, tired man he had been during their escape and the weary, depressed man he had first woken up to. Just in the course of a couple of days, Jack's personality was returning to normal and his temper was correspondingly growing fouler. Miraculously, there had been no infection in his wounds and Janet was starting to make noises about releasing him soon. Jack would certainly convalesce better at home than he would in the infirmary.

Jack reached the end of the infirmary and awkwardly turned to make his return trip.

Thinking about Jack returning home brought Daniel to a sticky problem of his own. Where was he supposed to go now? He had been, to all intents and purposes, dead for six months. He doubted whether his landlord would have accepted his ascension as a reason to keep his apartment available when he was not there to pay rent. Daniel snorted quietly at the thought of Jack trying to explain Oma, ascensions and metaphysics to his bemused landlord. His mind seemed to fixate on the oddest things when he was tired.

It was like coming back from Abydos all over again, only this time he had friends and he didn't want to impose on them. There was no way he could just ask someone to put him up until he worked out what he was going to do next.

With a start, Daniel realised that Jack had already made it back to his bed and a nurse was helping him to climb in and lie down. Janet stood and spent a moment checking his pulse and temperature before making a pleased 'hmm' noise.

"Well, Colonel, that was good for a first try," she told him.

"Good? Doc, I'm exhausted and my leg hurts like hell after one little walkabout. How is that good?"

"Because most people in your condition wouldn't have managed half of what you just did. You have to give it time - don't push yourself or you'll make your injuries worse." Janet smiled encouragingly. "Just take it one day at a time."

Jack made a face and Daniel hid his grin. The colonel happily used every cliché in the book but hated it when they were directed at him.

"Now, sir, I need to have a word with Daniel-"

Jack sat up straighter. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Oh."

Daniel offered him a small smile. "He'll find out anyway so why don't you tell us together? If there's nothing wrong with me then there's no need to keep it secret."

Janet looked thoughtfully between them before shrugging and sitting down on her chair between the two beds. "All right. Well, I've had your blood tests back and I've been looking at your CAT scans. The good news is that the DNA tests show you are definitely Daniel Jackson."

"Well, that's good," Jack said, not quite hiding his real relief. "I'd hate to have brought back the wrong person."

"Yes, sir." Janet ducked her head to scan her notes but Daniel could see the smile tugging at her lips before she raised her head again. "From what you've both told me, I understand that Daniel somehow created this body. There are a few anomalies."

That cold lump of ice formed in Daniel's stomach again. "Oh?"

"Daniel, how did you create your body?" Janet asked curiously.

"I have no idea, really. It just . . . happened."

"Hmm." Janet consulted her notes again. "Well however it happened, you've made some interesting choices. Somehow, you've managed to re-create your appendix and keep the scar from your appendectomy. You've probably already realised that your sight hasn't changed. In fact, your prescription is exactly the same as it was on your last sight-test. Also, all your allergies are still there and I'll be starting you on a course of antihistamines for that. Everything else seems to be fine. In short, you've somehow managed to re-create your body complete with its faults."

"Oh." She didn't seem worried about him, so Daniel assumed that meant he hadn't done anything disastrously wrong when he returned. "So, I'm normal."

"If you call having an appendix that I removed two years ago normal, then yes you are."

"Jeez, Daniel, you have a chance to start over and you manage to re-create everything just the way it was?" Jack asked incredulously. "Wasn't there anything you wanted to change?"

Daniel shrugged. "I was in a hurry. I didn't exactly have time to think about what I was doing. Are you complaining?"

"No."

"If you had the chance to start over, is there anything about yourself you'd change?"

Jack hesitated for a moment. "I'd probably get rid of the grey hair. Maybe take a few of the scars off . . . maybe. Actually, I probably wouldn't change anything."

"Was there anything else?" Daniel asked Janet.

She shook her head. "Not that I could find. You should return to normal when you've had some rest and a few proper meals."

"Thank you."

Standing, Janet tucked her notes under her arm. "I'm just doing my job. It's good to have you back, Daniel."

She walked away and Daniel watched her go for a moment before turning back to Jack. He didn't feel tired yet. In fact he felt oddly restless and he wondered if he could interest Jack in a game of chess.

Jack stared intently at his blanket. "Uh, ditto. What she said." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Do you feel like playing gin?"

"I'm still not very good at it."

"Exactly. I'm not feeling up to getting beaten today."

With a tolerant grin, Daniel picked up the deck of cards Sam had acquired for him and moved from his bed to Janet's chair next to Jack. Even that brief movement made his legs shake and he was grateful for the pyjamas that one of his well-wishers had sent that hid the trembling. He opened the pack and cut the deck.

***

Jack shifted uncomfortably in the bed. The infirmary was mostly dark with only one small light shining near the door. He had been trying to sleep for over an hour but the aches throughout his body were keeping him awake. The excruciating sharp pain in his knee was gone unless he made an unwise movement and had been replaced by a dull throbbing. He had bruises everywhere, all healing but all aching and it was impossible to lie in a way that did not rest on some of those bruises. The burn on his stomach throbbed and each time he moved the muscles beneath pulled at it. In short he was in pain but determined not to give in and ask for more painkillers. It would be too easy to move from needing relief from his pain to just needing the drugs.

He heard a rustling sound from a few feet away and smiled into the darkness. "Daniel? Are you awake?"

"No. I'm actually fast asleep, dreaming about . . . uh, I'm awake."

"Dreaming about what?"

"Nothing important." There was the sound of someone punching his pillow. "Why are you still awake?"

"Why are you?"

"Are you being deliberately annoying or is it just a happy by-product?"

"It's a natural talent."

There was brief pause before Daniel whispered, "So why are you annoying me?"

"I'm bored. Do you have any idea how boring it is to stare at nothing?"

"I think I can guess."

"It gives me way too much time to think about stuff."

"I know. And eventually all those thoughts start whirling around your head until you can't separate them out and at some point they end up as a bizarre dream that you wake up from, still thinking too much, and stay awake for the rest of the night because it's all getting too weird."

"Huh. So, you've been there too."

"Yes."

"I never knew that before."

"You've never pestered me at three AM before." Daniel rustled again and Jack wished he could see through the darkness to see the expression in those blue eyes. "So, what have you been thinking about?"

Jack took a deep breath. Talking in the darkness was easier than talking in the daylight, but it still was not easy. "Retirement."

"I thought you weren't the retiring type anymore."

"Times change."

"Oh."

"I've changed and the reasons for doing stuff aren't there anymore." Jack paused, weighing up whether he could talk about this before deciding that not talking about it would probably be harder. "Do you think I'm running away?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"Jack, why do you want to retire?"

That was Daniel, Jack reflected. He always thought everything through before he made any judgements. He always collected all the data, looked at every possible variable, before making a leap in thought that would leave everyone else coughing in his dust-trail. And he was always right when he did that. Jack knew that there was no one else that he could talk to about this because no one else would try so hard to see his problems from every angle.

"I've been thinking for a while that I'm not sure why I'm doing this anymore," Jack began slowly. "I'm mean, sure the Goa'uld are out there and I want to kick their asses. That's never going to change. But I'm starting to think that maybe I'm getting too old for it."

"You're not old."

"Don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"I've been feeling old in the 'getting too used to surviving death' sense, not in the old age sense. It's . . . we've survived against the odds so many times now that it's starting to get dangerous. I'm worried that I'm going to make mistakes that will cost someone else because I assume that everything will work out." Jack took a breath. "I'm not making any sense."

"No . . . no, you are making sense. We've come through so many times, you think that you might underestimate the enemy because you're over-confident."

"Kinda, yeah."

"Jack, if you're aware of that potential then it's never going to happen."

"Maybe." This talking stuff never got easier. "If I tell you something, you have to promise never to reveal a word of it."

There was the briefest of pauses, just enough to let Jack know that Daniel was taking this seriously, then he said, "Of course. Whatever you want."

"I'm afraid of becoming one of those washed-out old soldiers that I used to look at when I was a cadet and promise never to become. I always told myself I'd retire before I became one of those people, and now I can see myself going in that direction. I don't want a desk-job but I'll probably end up with one because even if I do heal it's not going to be for a long time and getting myself fit for active duty is going to take even longer. I know that there's a good chance I'll never be ready for that. There are going to be kids out in those corridors who will see me limping along thinking 'Hey, didn't that used to be Jack O'Neill?' They'll pity me just like I pitied those soldiers thirty years ago. That's not want I want to become."

Huh, that was actually easier than he had thought it would be. As soon as he began saying the words it had all come out. Jack was suddenly grateful for the darkness. It hid the reactions he knew he'd have been searching for if he could have seen Daniel's face and just allowed him to feel relief at finally talking about things that had been weighing heavily on him for months.

"Why do you think you'd be running away?" Daniel asked after a moment of silence.

"Because I've just got back from being tortured. It tends to cloud stuff. What if I've only made this decision because I'm afraid to go back out there?"

"Are you?"

Jack tried to imagine stepping through the Gate again. "No. I'm angry and if that Goa'uld was still alive I'd want to rip him apart with my bare hands, but I don't think I'm afraid. To be honest, I'm not sure what else I'm feeling."

"The Jack O'Neill that I know doesn't run away from anything. You're confused, but you're still the Jack I call friend."

A warm feeling spread out from somewhere in Jack's chest, filling the restless places with peace and soothing some of the confusion. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"For being a good listener as well as a good talker. And for not telling me I'm nuts."

"You're welcome. I'll leave that to Doctor Mackenzie."

"You're full of cheerful thoughts."

"'Night, Jack."

"Sleep tight. Mind the bedbugs-"

"Shut up."

***

Daniel peered cautiously around a corner and sighed his relief at the empty corridor in front of him. It was his first day out of the infirmary and he had planned to have a chat with General Hammond in his office followed by lunch in the commissary. He had also considered bringing back some pie for Jack because the colonel had now been stuck in the infirmary for a week. Janet was beginning to look a little desperate around the eyes each time Jack spotted her. There were only so many times a person could hear "Can I go home yet?" and remain sane. Daniel had heard her mutter about the recuperative benefits of small, padded white rooms and jackets with sleeves that tied behind her back the last time Jack asked.

For the most part, Daniel had stuck to the plan. What he had not counted on - had not even guessed at - was the reaction of everyone he met. The corridors seemed to have been filled with people, the numbers increasing as he neared the control room, and each one wanted to welcome him back and say how much Daniel had been missed. He had thought that Sam's welcome when he first woke up was overwhelming; that was a walk in the park compared to what he had been enduring everywhere he went for the past hour.

The number of cards he had received in the infirmary had in no way prepared him for how enthusiastic everyone would be at welcoming him. Daniel had truly had no idea just how many people cared about him and how much they cared. It was a sobering realisation and he wondered if he could have made the same decision he had made six months ago if he had known how many friends he apparently had. He just had not known that he had touched so many people's lives.

The plan to eat in the commissary had been abandoned when he emerged from the General's office to find the briefing room filled with saluting SGC personnel. That was just too much to cope with so Daniel was now trying to find a safe-haven in the midst of the insanity.

Sam's lab was somewhere on this corridor. They had been spending time together each day since he had returned, reassuring each other that he really was alive and they were not going to be parted again. Sam was like a big sister and best friend rolled into one and, until he lost that, Daniel had not realised how much he depended on that relationship. He saw the door to her lab ahead and quickened his pace even though his legs were beginning to feel like jelly. It was hard to believe just how exhausted he still got even though he had been resting for a week. Janet assured him that his stamina would return, and admittedly he was getting better, but Daniel still wanted to be back to normal immediately. The energy he had expended on the ship, and the energy he had lost during the transition, followed by the trauma of Jack's rescue on top of everything else had sapped him of more strength than he had realised.

Daniel winced as he saw someone appear at the other end of the corridor and quickly ducked into Sam's lab.

"Daniel!" Sam looked up and grinned at him. "Did Janet let you out?"

He closed the door behind him and sank gratefully onto a stool. "Yes, I'm here legally. If I'm good, I might be allowed to leave the base tomorrow."

"Do you know where you're going yet?"

Daniel glanced at the floor and frowned before looking up at Sam. There was no point trying to hide from her. "No idea."

Sam closed her laptop and dragged her stool closer to him. "The Colonel is probably just assuming you'll stay with him at first. All your stuff went there so-"

"Jack has my stuff?"

"Yeah." Sam began to rummage in a drawer under the bench they were sitting at. "Your apartment manager got suspicious so General Hammond sent us to close up your apartment. Jack volunteered to store your stuff."

"Oh." Somehow, he had not been expecting that. "Is it all . . . um, safe?"

"He checked with some of your archaeology guys to make sure it's all stored safely. He had to get rid of some of your clothes and furniture, but he kept the important stuff. It's all at his house now. Aha!"

Sam held up a small box with a familiar logo. She grinned as she set the box on the bench and opened it, the rich scent of chocolate wafting out.

"Godiva's?" Daniel raised an eyebrow.

Flushing guiltily, Sam shrugged and picked out a chocolate. "Janet gave them to me at Christmas. I've been saving them for a special occasion. This seemed like one."

They exchanged mischievous grins before Daniel reached into the box and selected a chocolate. "Thanks."

For the chocolates, for being a friend, for accepting him back . . . he did not have to say it, but it was all in that one word and Sam nodded her understanding.

"So, what was it like?" Sam asked curiously.

"To be honest, a lot of it is fading now. I don't think the human mind is equipped to cope with an experience like that yet. It feels like most of it was a dream and no matter how hard I try it keeps slipping further away. I've been trying to write it down but everything is getting too foggy." There was frustration in his voice and Sam made comforting noises. "It's certainly going to make an odd mission report."

"The Pentagon will probably want to know if you picked up any useful technology while you were out there."

"Sorry, Sam, I'm afraid there's nothing new that I can remember anymore."

"I'm sorry too."

There was no disappointment in her voice, just understanding. Daniel reached into the box again and paused. "What have I missed while I've been gone?"

Sam gave him a quick smile, accepting the rapid conversation change, before launching into an update on six months' worth of gossip.

***

Jack stared into the darkness and tried to will his body into sleep. It was no good. His eyes kept popping open, and each time he shifted to try to find a more comfortable position a bolt of pain raced up his leg. The problem was that there were no truly comfortable positions. He had always slept on his side, not on his back, but with his leg in the condition it was in there was no way he could lie on his side. Most of the bruises had now healed and there was shiny new skin growing over the burn on his stomach but there was still a constant ache in his knee that would not go away. Taking more painkillers was not an option as far as he was concerned.

The darkness and restlessness also gave him a lot of unwanted thinking time. Most of that thinking had centred on the man lying on another bed a few short feet away. It was not the kind of thinking that induced sleep.

Jack had accepted his attraction to Daniel over a year ago. It was not the first time he had been attracted to a man and he had simply put those feelings for Daniel into a separate box from the rest of his feelings and tried to ignore it. That had always worked before. But then Daniel had gone and ascended on him, dying in every way that mattered, and Jack had finally worked out that those feelings ran deeper than simple attraction. And to add to the confusion there was gratitude and incredible admiration for everything Daniel had done to get him out of the stinking Goa'uld ship and home.

It was all adding up to the uncomfortable realisation that he was deeply gone on Daniel. That, in fact, he was in love with the man. It was definitely not a thought that encouraged sleep.

The problem was what to do now that he knew what he felt. After everything else that he had been through Jack could not find it in himself to panic over falling in love with a man. Particularly when that man was the best friend he could ever have asked for and someone he admired more than anyone else on the planet. No, panicking over this just was not happening. But the next step . . . that was the tricky part.

One option, of course, was to tell Daniel exactly what he was feeling. The archaeologist was the least judgemental person Jack knew, and rather than thumping him as he probably deserved he thought that Daniel would probably want to sit down, talk about it and work through it all. The problem with that option was that Daniel might feel guilty for not returning his feelings, and Jack did not want to create that kind of awkwardness.

Another possibility was to ignore it and hope it went away. That might be the sensible option.

There was, of course, the option of running as far away from Daniel as he could but it was the least attractive possibility out of all the ones he had considered. He had tried it before and it had been a painful experience. After everything that Daniel had put himself through to get Jack back to Earth in one piece, he knew that was something he could never do again.

The course he had chosen so far was to act completely normally while he looked at it from every angle he could. It involved thinking deeply about lots of things that Jack hated thinking about but so far he had not been able to get beyond this stage. Between thinking in the dark and the psychologist Mackenzie had set him up with, Jack was doing a lot more self-examination than he was used to.

Jack shifted again in the bed, trying to find some way of lying that would allow him to sleep, and hissed as the movement knocked his injured leg against rail on the side of the bed.

"Jack? Are you still awake?" Daniel's whispered voice floated out of the darkness.

It was impossible not to smile at the query. "Yeah, I'm awake. What are you doing still awake?"

"Can't sleep."

"Any reason?"

"Not one you want to hear."

"Try me."

"Maybe another night."

"Oh." Jack decided to let the matter drop - for now. He could always pester Daniel again later. "So, how did your talk with Hammond go?"

"Fine."

He waited a moment. "Care to elaborate?"

"He offered me a job as head of the civilian consultants here. It's a sort of promotion."

"Ah. How do you feel about that?"

"I've told him that I accept. I have a month of leave to recuperate before he wants me back here."

"Won't that mean leaving SG-1?"

"Yeee-ah." Daniel let the word drawl out slowly, buying some time. "I actually went to tell him that I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay with SG-1 anymore."

"Because of me?"

"Sorry to burst your ego, Jack, but no. I was thinking about leaving before you announced your retirement."

"Care to tell me why?"

"It's . . . I'm not sure why I'm doing this anymore, and until I've worked it out I don't want to be going out there."

"I know why you do this - you can't resist all that knowledge and all the new and interesting civilizations we find for you."

There was a sigh from Daniel's direction. "That's the problem, Jack. Before I . . . left . . . how many missions had we been on that were purely exploration? I felt like I was becoming more of a soldier and less of a scientist. I began to lose a part of myself."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I couldn't work out how. I've always liked being a part of a team and doing something useful. It made me . . . fit . . . for the first time in my life. You all needed me and what I could do and you made me feel like I was an important part of something. I wanted to talk to you but I didn't know how."

"Of course we need you, Daniel, but not if it makes you unhappy."

There was a quiet chuckle. "I wasn't precisely unhappy. I was just aware that what I was doing wasn't using everything that I had. A part of me needed to go out and watch your back but another part of me kept pointing out that it's not what I'm trained for. Jack, I'm a linguist and I've studied languages for half my life. But I tried to work out how many times I'd used those skills rather than combat skills in the final dozen missions before I left and . . . I just couldn't remember."

Jack tried to think, tried to remember, and realised that he couldn't remember either. Daniel speaking gobbledy-gook at other people had become a normal part of his life but now that he really thought about it he realised that it had been months since Daniel had got excited over a new language. There had been translations, even the occasional situation where Daniel acted as an intergalactic translator-cum-mediator, but none of the new discoveries that had always sent the archaeologist babbling about his discovery to anyone who happened to get caught. Jack had actually been missing those excited lectures. Not because he wanted to listen to Daniel talking about derivations and roots - hell, no - but because he had missed the passion and joy in his face and voice. No wonder Daniel had been so willing to ascend when he was given the choice.

"I think that maybe this sounds like a good plan," he said eventually. "Just until you get yourself settled again."

"Yeah, so do I."

Jack shifted again in the bed. "So, when we get out of here tomorrow do you fancy Chinese or pizza? I'm afraid I haven't had time to get any food in lately. You'll have to tell me what you want so I can get stuff at the store."

"Jack, aren't you forgetting something?"

He thought carefully. "Nope, can't think of anything."

"You haven't actually asked me to stay with you."

"Ah." Jack frowned into the darkness. "I didn't?"

"No."

"Oh. Daniel, most of your stuff is at my place so . . . would you?"

Daniel's voice sounded hesitant, as if he still was not sure of his welcome. "Just until I get myself sorted out again."

"Of course," Jack agreed quickly.

"Then Chinese sounds great. I can pick some things up at the store later."

"How are you going to get to the store? Your car had to be sold."

"How are you going to get to the store? You leg is broken."

Jack glared at the approximate place where Daniel's face should be. "You are not driving my car."

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Is your leg hurting?"

"Maybe. A little."

Jack heard a low buzz and cursed as he recognised the sound of the buzzer that alerted the night duty-nurse that a patient needed something. A moment later a dim light flickered on and there was the click of heels approaching Daniel's bed.

The archaeologist whispered, "Jack's in pain but he refuses to ask for painkillers."

A blonde nurse approached Jack's bedside. She was in her forties and had obviously been studying Janet's no-nonsense expression for future use. "Colonel O'Neill?"

"He won't stop pestering me until I let you stick me with something, will he?" Jack asked rhetorically.

The nurse waited patiently.

"Get it over with," Jack ordered.

"Yes, sir."

The nurse went away and a few minutes later returned with a small dish. Jack turned his head so that he could not see her prepare the syringe and give him the drugs. Her heels clicked briskly on the floor as she strode away and a couple of minutes later the light turned off and they were left in darkness again.

"It won't harm you if you're really in pain," Daniel said quietly. "You know that."

There was no way for him to see Jack's shrug so the colonel said, "Maybe."

"I don't like seeing people in pain."

"I know." The drug began to take effect, dimming the pain in his knee and making his mind feel fuzzy around the edges. "Thanks. Everyone needs a friend like you."

"One who rats you out to the nurses?"

"No, one who does everything he can for you even if it costs him everything." Jack stared towards Daniel's bed, willing his eyes to cut through the darkness to see his face. "I know what you've given up and I can only imagine the cost. You're a hero and the best friend I've ever had."

He could imagine Daniel's face flaming bright red at the compliments and the choked silence from the other bed told him that Daniel, for once, had been made speechless.

The fuzziness from the drugs were loosening his tongue, now, and giving him the courage to say things that had been left unsaid for years. "I never stop being surprised by the things you know or can do. Every time I think I know you, I discover something new. I never thought I could respect or fall in love with a scientist but you've proved me wrong about so many things over the years and I'm happy that's one of them. When I saw you in that dream and realised it really was you . . . hell, you saw what I was like. I've missed you so much over the past few months. So damned much."

He trailed off into silence, squeezing his eyes shut against the hot, gritty feeling in them. Painkillers always made him more emotional than he wanted to be. Give him ten beers and he was fine, but one dose of painkillers and his emotions spilled straight out. Jack frowned into the darkness. Something was nagging in his mind but the fuzziness was making it hard to think. There was something he had said that . . .

'Fall in love with . . .'

"Shit." He really had said that. Damn. Jack could feel panic beginning to work through the fuzziness. "Daniel, I'm-"

"If you say you're sorry I might have to hit you," Daniel said, his voice shaking slightly.

"I didn't mean to tell you like that. Damn, I'm . . . I was going to . . . I have no idea what I'm saying." Jack paused, trying to put his thoughts back into order, but they kept scattering. "I was never going to tell you. I don't want you to feel obligated or . . . or guilty for not feeling the same."

"But I do."

"I was just going to keep it to myself and everything would be OK. We'd be OK. I'm not confusing gratitude for what you've done with love - this goes back way before then - but I made this promise to myself that I was going to find some way of thanking you for what you did. And this definitely was not on my list of things that make Daniel happy."

"But this does."

"It was going to be stuff like getting you to have fun in a non-book related context. I was going to find ways to make you laugh. I was not going to be laying something like this on you.

"Jack, could you stop panicking and listen to me for a moment?" Daniel's loud whisper cut through some of the fog and panic in Jack's brain. "I. Love. You. Got it?"

"Um . . ."

"I won't regret saying that in the morning either."

"Oh." The fear and panic fell away, leaving Jack's brain filled with fog and a vague feeling of happiness. "That's . . . uh . . . cool."

"It's a good thing I know you so well or that would be insulting."

There was just the tiniest hint of amusement in Daniel's voice. Jack wanted to respond, there was something on the tip of his tongue, but his teeth seemed to be getting in the way. His brain was telling his mouth to move and form words but the signals seemed to be getting interrupted on the way. Intense drowsiness swept over him, clogging up his mind and washing away every thought.

"I . . ."

Jack suddenly realised that his eyes had drifted shut and he struggled to open them again. "Damn nurse . . . musta . . . sliiiiipped . . ."

His eyes closed and this time Jack just could not lever them open again. Had he been talking? Sleep pulled him down and Jack gave in.

***

Jack cursed as he fumbled his crutches and dropped one on the ground outside the car. He had thought it was going to be easy. God knew he'd been on crutches enough times in his life to be used to them. But apparently there were some things he was never going to get used to, and he reluctantly supposed he should be grateful crutches were one of those things.

Janet had finally agreed to release them both at the same time. He had appointments booked with the psychologist away from base, appointments with Fraiser on base and a bag filled with the doctor's pills and potions. Jack had also had a surprise on the way up to the surface, with every corridor between the infirmary and the elevator filled with saluting SGC personnel. The news of his retirement had apparently spread like wildfire and he had been a little amazed to discover just how many people respected him enough to organise the impromptu parade. Carter, Teal'c and Hammond had been the final people in the line-up and that had almost been too much. There had been a lump in his throat as he saluted the general for the last time and clasped Teal'c's arm tightly. Of course he would see them again, there was no doubt about that, but never as Colonel O'Neill of the US Air Force. Instead he would just be Jack O'Neill, good friend and former team-mate. It was the first time that his retirement had really hit home. Jack was not sure how he felt about that.

Jack was drawn back into the present as a long-fingered hand appeared in his line of sight and handed the crutch to him.

"Thanks," he said, smiling up into Daniel's grave face.

The archaeologist nodded, flashed him a smile that was gone so quickly Jack almost missed it, and waited patiently while he manoeuvred himself out of the car. When Jack had his balance, Daniel closed the door and followed him to the house.

***

Daniel followed Jack up the path to the house, having to work hard to restrain his impulse to help each time Jack cursed at his crutches. He was carrying Jack's carryall so that the colonel could move more easily. Daniel had nothing of his own. The uniform he was wearing was an old spare someone had found in the laundry room so it technically belonged to the US Air Force. He knew, logically, that his possessions were somewhere in Jack's house but he felt oddly disconnected. It was almost . . . that was it. He felt almost like he had when he first came back from Abydos. Only this time he wasn't leaving someone behind; hopefully he was going toward something.

Jack leaned on one crutch while he pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the door. Then he carefully swung inside, muttering under his breath as he negotiated the steps down to the living room, and Daniel closed the door behind him as he followed.

"Do you mind dumping that on my bed?" Jack called. "If you want to change, just borrow whatever you need. I'm afraid I only kept your suit - it was a push just to get the important stuff in here. The clothes had to go."

Daniel nodded. "Thanks, Jack. It meant a lot that you saved it all."

He could see some of his precious artefacts on display in cases that had held model aircraft for as long as he had known Jack, and there were new bookcases with some of his books in. They had even been correctly shelved.

"No problem." At last Jack turned and smiled at him. "It really wasn't a big deal."

There was no hint in Jack's eyes that he remembered last night's conversation. Daniel searched his eyes for a moment, hoping for some sign, but there was nothing. Jack dropped the gaze after a moment and began finding cushions to prop his leg up comfortably. Daniel nodded tiredly and began to make his way upstairs.

"I'll call the Chinese place - do you want the usual, or are you feeling adventurous?" Jack asked.

"The usual sounds good. I'm going to take a shower."

"Fine. Dinner will probably be about thirty minutes."

"Thanks."

***

The stink of the Goa'uld ship surrounded him. Daniel could see it, feel it, smell it . . . but he was not really there. It was an illusion. It had to be.

That did not stop him seeing Jack lying in a crumpled heap on the floor below him, or hearing the sickening slap of the black rod smashing into his flesh. Daniel reached out and felt the pulsing double life force of the Goa'uld. Hatred deeper than he had ever known before washed over him.

Daniel felt the life force flickering; he had so much power over it now. He knew exactly what he could do, how to make that life force flicker and die. It would be so easy to just end it all. He had done it before - why should he stop now? With raw, fierce pleasure he reached out and . . .

***

Daniel shot up in bed gasping for breath. Icy cold sweat soaked his T-shirt and his stomach rolled sickly with the combination of fear and self-disgust that pounded through him. Was he really just as bad as the Goa'uld? He had actually felt . . . pleasure . . . at the thought of destroying that Goa'uld. What kind of person was he if he could enjoy killing someone, even someone as evil as the Goa'uld that had tortured Jack? Even in Shifu's dream the deaths he had caused were out of a twisted sense of duty and responsibility. There had never been that fierce joy in it that he had just felt.

Daniel thought guiltily of Teal'c's fate in Shifu's dream. Could he really be capable of that kind of malice without the Goa'uld knowledge twisting his thoughts? Was there something deep within him that was as dark as they were?

Slowly Daniel's breathing evened out and immediate horror of the dream began to pass. Golden sunlight poured through a gap in the curtains falling in a warm line across his feet. The sheer normality and calm of the bedroom made his fears fade until he could put them into perspective. It had just been a dream, nothing more.

The wet T-shirt clung coldly to his skin and Daniel shivered. He checked the clock on the bedside table and decided that it was not too early for him to start the day. He rolled out of bed and padded to the low chest of drawers. Shopping was definitely going to be a priority today. There were a couple more T-shirts that he had borrowed from Jack so he shucked his damp one, using a dry edge to towel off, and pulled the clean T-shirt on. Immediately he felt better and the dream faded even further.

Daniel looked down at himself, mentally debating whether or not he should change. Then he shrugged and decided that Jack had seen him in a T-shirt and sweats before so there was no point in changing until he had showered. Just because they were . . . possibly . . . maybe . . . although Jack hadn't mentioned it since . . . where exactly did he stand?

The house was silent so Daniel decided to wait until Jack woke up before showering. Instead he went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. The soothing, familiar action of measuring out the coffee and putting the right amount of water in the machine made the last of the tremors from his dream fade away. In the bright light of day the fears that the dream had conjured up fled away.

Instead Daniel pondered the question of what to do about Jack. He knew how Jack felt and he knew how he felt. Jack, even under the influence of strong painkillers, would not have said what he did if he had not meant it. But he could have forgotten that he had told Daniel or even assumed that his memory was just a dream induced by the painkillers. So the trick was to find a way to let Jack know that Daniel knew and felt just as strongly.

Mechanically pouring a cup of steaming coffee, Daniel frowned. He was tired of being alone and Jack was tired of being alone. They were in love with each other. That meant that neither of them had to be alo