Title: Demons
Author: Brenda A
Author Page: Brenda A
Note: (First published in Gateways 2. Many thanks for Joyce for the permission to post.)
Category: Angst
Spoilers: S2 episode Need
Season/Sequel info: Second Season
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Scenes missing from 'Need"
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

I don't know how long we stayed there on the floor of the storage room after Daniel collapsed, and I got that gun away from him. For a long time after, there was only Danny in my arms; nothing else mattered.

I held and rocked him and murmured reassurances I'm sure he didn't hear as he sobbed his heart out. Eventually, I became aware the alarm had stopped, and there was a knot of people gathered anxiously outside the room, Dr. Fraiser, Carter and Teal'c in front. By that time, Daniel's sobs had quieted, and I felt the occasional caught breath and sniffle as I continued to hold him, rubbing his back to calm him. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and I carefully pulled away just enough to look down at him. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or passed out, but he lay limp against me, hair plastered with sweat against his head, tear tracks down his face.

I looked up again, and there were only three people outside now, Fraiser, Teal'c and Sam. At a nod from me, Teal'c stepped inside and bent over to take Daniel from me, picking him up as if he weighed no more than a child. With my legs tingling and half-asleep, it took me a little longer to get to my feet. We'd been in that cramped position for a long time, and before that we had been bouncing off the metal storage racks in the room; we'd both have some dandy bruises to show for it, but right now that was the least of my worries.

We were a silent, subdued procession as we made our way back to the infirmary: Fraiser hurrying ahead to get things ready, Teal'c, grim faced and looking straight ahead as he carried his burden, Sam anxious and nervous, her eyes never leaving Daniel's limp form. I was drained. And scared. I wished to hell we'd never gone to P3R-636. Right now I was even wishing I'd never heard of a Stargate.

Teal'c carefully laid Daniel on the bed and stepped back to join Sam in the doorway. No one had said a word since we left the storage room. I moved beside Daniel and looked over at Janet, hating how helpless I felt. "What now?" I asked finally to break the silence.

It must have been the sound of my voice. Daniel's red-rimmed eyes fluttered open and he was looking right at me. "Hey, Danny," I said softly and gripped his hand. "You're okay --"

"Don't leave. Jack...please... Don't leave me!"

My God. I hope I never hear him use that tone again. I hope I never see that look on his face again. He was terrified. I understood exactly how he felt. I was pretty terrified myself. I had just wrestled a loaded gun away from my closest friend, the most peace-loving, gentle man I had ever known. I think I managed what I hoped would pass for a reassuring smile. "I'm not going anywhere," I assured him. "I'll be right here. Remember what I said? I said we'd get through this." I gave his hand a squeeze. "That means together."

Janet Fraiser was hovering just out of his line of vision, and Carter and Teal'c  were crowding the doorway. I knew they both wanted to add their support, but I honestly didn't think Daniel could handle any more at the moment. It was my call, so I gave Carter a little shake of my head. She bit her lip but obediently backed out of the doorway. Teal'c gave me a long look but did the same. Once we were alone I nodded toward the doctor. "Dr. Fraiser needs to check you out. Okay? I'll be right here. I'm not leaving. We'll see this through together."

Fraiser walked to Daniel's side and laid a hand on his arm. She was still favoring one shoulder, but her tone was as gentle as I've ever heard it. I always suspected she had a soft spot for him. "Daniel, I'm going to give you a sedative to help you rest."

His head jerked to me, panic in his red-rimmed eyes. "No! No, please, no! Don't tie me down again, please, Jack, please, no --"

Oh, Christ. I shifted until I was sitting on the side of the bed and got my hands on his shoulders, careful not to appear like I was restraining him. "Daniel, it's okay. Nobody's going to tie you down. I promise." I shot a look at Fraiser. "I promise," I repeated firmly. They'd have to tie me down first. "She's just going to give you something to help you rest." Slowly, he was calming under my hands, and I began rubbing his shoulders soothingly. "You want to rest, don't you? You'll feel better if you get some sleep."

"Hurts," he whimpered. "Oh God, Jack, it hurts."

Pain etched harsh lines around his eyes and mouth. I could feel the tremors racing through his body. "I know it hurts, buddy, but this is going to help. You get some sleep, and I'll be right here when you wake up. Okay?"

He still looked scared, and he refused to look at Fraiser, but he nodded hesitantly, his eyes on me. "Okay, Doc," I said carefully, not taking my eyes from his, "Nice and easy. Daniel, you just relax. All right? It's going to be okay. I'll be right here..." I kept up the chatter until his eyes slid shut, and his breathing finally evened out. It didn't take long. I wondered how big a dose she'd given him; whatever she'd given him before obviously hadn't worked.

I shot Fraiser a questioning glance, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist to take his pulse.

"He needed it," she said quietly. "He's in considerable pain."

The blood pressure cuff was next, and I waited silently while she took the reading. She wrote something down on a chart then laid it aside and finally looked at me.

"He'll sleep now."

I nodded and slid off the bed, looking down at him. Asleep, he looked like Daniel again, not some wild, deranged caricature, and I drew a deep, unsteady breath. "He's going to be okay, right?"

Janet's never lied to me, and believe me, there have been times I wished she had. "I think so," she nodded. "The worst really is over now, Colonel. I'm going to keep him sedated for the next few hours; that should see him through."

"It won't hurt anymore, Danny," I murmured and gave his arm a squeeze. I turned away from the bed and rubbed my face, hard. I felt like I'd just gone on a five mile run. Then, I remembered Sam, Teal'c, and the General. "Janet, I've got to --"

"Go do what you have to," she broke in, waving me away. "I'll stay with him."

My 'thanks' couldn't have conveyed how grateful I was, but she seemed to understand. "I'll be back."

She just nodded and began moving around the bed, adjusting machines and wires, her mind already dismissing me. I stepped outside and nearly ran into my remaining two team members. Sam looked like she was about ready to jump out of her skin.

"How is he?"

"Sleeping. Fraiser's going to keep him sedated."

"Daniel Jackson will be well when he awakes?"

Teal'c was staring at me like I had all the answers, but all I could do was say, "Janet thinks so. That's about all we've got right now, kids." Carter opened her mouth to ask another question, but I cut her off. "That's all I know, Sam," I said tiredly.

"Do you think we can see him, sir?"

"I'm sure Janet would be glad for the company." I glanced inside the room once more. Daniel was lying so still. Abruptly turned away. I had to get away from here. "I'll be back."

It didn't take long to brief the general and secure whatever time off I'd need to see Daniel through his recovery. After a somewhat rocky start and a few testy arguments along the way, Hammond had developed a real affection for Daniel. He was as worried as the rest of us.

That done, I went to Daniel's office and shut the door behind me. I just stood there, back against the door, looking around the small room our linguist had made his own. There were books everywhere, pieces of pottery, strange-shaped stones (the guy had such a fascination with rocks!), small statues of ancient gods with unpronounceable names he could always pronounce. He'd spent countless hours in this room, staring at his computer, poring through his books, coming up with solutions to problems ordinary minds couldn't solve. It was strangely calming here, and I simply stood, remembering Danny sitting at his desk, happy in his research, laughing at one of my bad jokes, drinking one cup of coffee after another, bleary eyed when I'd catch him working the night through.

I prayed we'd get that Daniel back.

As promised, I was there when he woke up.

He looked like hell. By that time, we both did, but his eyes were sane and the terrible desperation which had defined his other self was gone. I didn't know what he might remember so I took it slow. "Welcome back."

For several moments his face was blank as if he was trying to remember how he'd ended up in the infirmary this time. I knew from the way his face suddenly drained the instant he remembered. "Oh, God..." His voice broke and he turned away, squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh, God, no, no, no..."

Janet had warned me the emotional aftermath could be brutal. Daniel would be at his most vulnerable, physically and emotionally wrung-out, probably ridden with guilt and self-disgust. She also told me something I could have figured out for myself. He was in no shape to deal with all this now. It had to be dealt with, brought out into the open in the cold light of day and faced by all of us. Just not now.

Surreptitiously, I pressed the button to summon Fraiser, and rubbed Daniel's arm, soothing him as best I could. "I know, Daniel, I know. It's okay. Shh. It's over --"

"Go away."

Those two choked words brought me up short. "What?"

"Go away, Jack. Please." He was starting to hyperventilate. and his tone was getting desperate. Thank God Fraiser chose that moment to appear. I looked at her helplessly. What do I do?

She gave me a sympathetic look and mouthed 'Go'.

The President of the United States couldn't have ordered me to leave his side at that moment, but it only took two broken, whispered words from Daniel: "Jack...please!" His face was averted, and I could see his eyes were still squeezed tightly shut, tears beginning to leak from the corners. I tried to remind myself of everything Janet had said we could expect in the aftermath and took a calming breath. "All right," I agreed. "But I'll be right outside." I paused then added, "Sam and Teal'c are out there, too. They'd like to see you, Daniel." There was no response, and I turned and left, closing the door behind me.

Carter and Teal'c, who had taken up residence outside much in the same way I had taken up residence beside Daniel's bed, both jumped to their feet.

"Daniel?" Sam asked immediately.

"He's awake."

She gave me a most impatient look. "And?"

I jammed my hands in my pockets so they wouldn't see my fists clenching and unclenching. "And... you remember what Fraiser said about how he might react. He's not feeling real communicative right now."

Teal'c looked puzzled. "Daniel Jackson will not speak to you?"

"This is the first time he's had a clear head in days," Sam reminded him. She looked at me suddenly, her eyes widening in dismay. "He remembers...?"

"Everything would be my guess," I answered flatly, recalling the look of horror in his eyes.

"I almost wish..." Sam looked at me apologetically and shrugged.

"Yeah, me too. But that wouldn't help anything, would it? This is something he's got to deal with."

"But not at the moment." Janet Fraiser's voice made us all turn. She closed the door behind her and walked over to our tight little group.

There was enough worry in her eyes to make me very uneasy. "Doctor?" I prompted edgily. Just tell us for crying out loud.

Fraiser looked at each one of us before she spoke. "He's not ready to see anyone just yet. He remembers everything that happened, everything he did and said while he was under the influence of the sarcophagus. As you can imagine, he's trying to cope with a lot of guilt."

"Then, we need to reassure him," Sam said urgently. "We need to tell him it hasn't changed anything about how we feel about him."

"Captain Carter is correct." Teal'c looked at the closed door concealing Daniel. "He must be assured we do not blame him for his sickness."

Fraiser smiled briefly. "Yes, it was a sickness, Teal'c, and I'm glad you all recognize that. But he's not ready to listen to anyone. He needs some time first."

My gut didn't feel right about that. "I know you're the doctor, Doctor," I said slowly, "and for somebody else that might be the right way to handle this, but it just doesn't sound good for Daniel."

"He refuses to see any of you, Colonel," she said gently. "And if you try to push him right now, he'll just retreat even further. Give him some time to come to terms with everything first."

I could tell from the expressions on Sam's and Teal'c's faces they didn't like the sound of this any better than I did, but the thought of pushing Daniel even further away wasn't a risk any of us were prepared to take.

I still didn't like it, but I nodded my reluctant agreement.

"Now all of you, go get some sleep," Janet ordered. "I'll keep an eye on Daniel."

I could have sworn my head barely touched the pillow when banging at my door brought me out of bed, my feet hitting the floor before I was fully awake. I stumbled to the door and threw it open, blinking at the light spilling in from the hallway. A very worried-looking Dr. Fraiser was standing there, and I think my heart stopped for a moment. There was only one reason she would be here: "Daniel --?"

"He's not here." She made it a statement, her face falling. "Damn it."

I brought a hand up to my eyes; would this day never end? "Don't tell me."

"When I left him I thought he was asleep; when I went back to check on him a few minutes ago, he was gone." She took a deep breath, "I was hoping..."

"He didn't come here. Did you try his office?" I hadn't bothered to undress when I collapsed on my bunk. I stepped into the hallway, quickly leading the way to Daniel's office, feeling a knot of tension forming between my shoulders. When we got there, I threw the door open and cursed under my breath. It was dark and just as I had left it when I sought solitude earlier. "Did you check with the front gate?" If that idiot had left the compound and tried to drive himself somewhere...

I yanked up the receiver of the phone on his desk and quickly dialed the front gate. In less than a minute, I had ascertained said idiot had in fact driven himself away from Cheyenne Mountain. I slammed the receiver down. "Damn it!" I rounded on Fraiser. "Where the hell were you while Daniel was strolling out of the infirmary? You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!"

"I'm sorry, Colonel," Fraiser said quietly, her body stiffly at attention and her face a picture of self-recrimination. "You're right. I completely misread the situation."

I took several deep breaths to get my temper under control then gave my head a sharp shake. "If anyone's to blame, it's me. I should've stayed with him no matter what either one of you said." I waved that whole line of thought aside. This conversation was pointless. We were wasting time. "We can assign blame later. Right now we need to determine where he might have gone." And just hope he got there in one piece.

She relaxed a little and slipped back into professional mode, exactly where I needed her to be. "Yes sir. His apartment?"

It was the only bolt-hole I could think of, too, and I was just turning away from the desk to go after him when my beeper went off. I was tempted to ignore it, but the possibility it might be about Daniel made me grab the phone again.

Checking with the operator, I froze when I heard the message. Hope made my heart race. "Put her through." Looking at Janet, I said, "It's Catherine Langford." A moment later, she was on the phone.

"Jack, it's Cath --"

"Catherine, is Daniel there?" I broke in urgently.

"Yes --"

"Is he all right?"

There was a pause, and when she continued, her voice had a chill to it. "It depends on what you mean by all right. He showed up on my front step about half an hour ago. I've got him in my living room right now, getting some hot tea into him." Catherine is a strong woman who isn't easily disconcerted, but the tension in her voice told me how badly she was shaken. "Jack, what's happened to him? He looks like he's been through a war."

"Close enough," I said under my breath.

"I don't understand what he's talking about. I've never seen him like this. Even when I first met him, and he'd lost everything --"

"It's a long story, Catherine. You're sure he's all right?"

"I think he's in shock," she said, and the bite was back in her tone.

"Okay, just keep him there. I'm on my way." I had a sudden thought. "You didn't tell him you were calling me, did you?"

"No. Should I have called you, Jack?" Her voice was strained and more than a little accusatory. "He said he wasn't a part of SG-1 any longer and had nowhere to go."

I could feel my hand tightening around the receiver. Oh, Christ, Danny. "Daniel's not thinking very clearly right now, Catherine, and yes, you should have called me. But don't tell him, okay? I'm probably the last person he wants to see right now, but I'm the one person he has to see. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Jack, what --"

"I'll explain when I get there." I hung up before she could ask any more questions. "Well, the lost is found," I told Janet. "I'm going over there. Catherine thinks he's in shock," I added, looking to her for instructions.

"There's nothing physically wrong with Daniel," she said slowly. "He's tired, a little shaky, and never should have been driving. Physically, he's in no danger. His mental attitude concerns me the most."

We headed out the door. She had to double-time it to keep up with me as I sidetracked to my room to snatch a jacket. "He told Catherine he wasn't a member of SG-1 any longer." I was getting angry at myself all over again. "I should have stayed with him! I should have made sure he understood."

We rode up in the elevator together. Janet was silent as I continued to berate myself the whole way. As we stepped out of the elevator, she laid a hand on my arm before I could shoot out the door.

 "Jack, he wasn't ready to hear anything you had to say then."

"He may not be ready now, either, but he's going to hear it," I said grimly and strode out the door into the night.

Catherine must have been watching for my headlights because she opened the door before I had a chance to ring the doorbell. I got the feeling she wasn't sure whether to welcome me or not, and I couldn't blame her. All she probably knew was that Daniel had appeared on her doorstep in the middle of the night, mumbling something about no longer being a part of the Stargate team and having nowhere to go. She must have wondered what the hell was going on, and where the hell were his friends? I had never thought about the possibility of Daniel coming to her, and I realized suddenly I should have. If Daniel were in trouble, the first people he would turn to would be myself, Sam and Teal'c. But if he thought we were lost to him... Yes, I should have thought of Catherine Langford.

"Catherine." I leaned in and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for calling. We were worried sick."

She closed the door behind her so we were standing on the porch. "Ernest is with him," she explained briefly and gave me a long, searching look. "Until you tell me what happened, Jack," she said quietly but firmly, "I can't let you see him."

I took a deep breath, and in as few words as possible, told her about the mining planet, the accident, the sarcophagus, and Daniel's addiction. I left a lot out, but I told enough so when I finished, her face was white.

"My God. Hasn't he been through enough?" she whispered to herself. I knew how she felt. I also knew that, having recruited Daniel for the Stargate project originally, she felt some responsibility for him. In that, we had common ground. She frowned at me under the dim porch light. "Then, he hasn't been kicked off the team?"

My eyes slid shut, and I could feel my teeth grinding together. "Jesus Christ, Catherine. What do you think?"

I felt a hand on my arm and opened my eyes. "I think I made the right decision when I called you," she said evenly. "Come in... but be careful with him, Jack. He's ..." She fumbled for the word. "Lost," she said finally. "He's so lost."

I faltered then and felt her squeeze my arm in support. "I know," I said, getting my voice under control. I just hoped I could help him find his way back. "I'm going to try to get him to come with me, Catherine. I need to get him back to the infirmary. We've... got some demons to face."

She nodded and opened the door. I followed her inside.

Daniel was hunched up tight in the corner of her sofa. She had draped an afghan over his shoulders, but he still looked cold. In fact, he looked awful, his eyes still bloodshot, his face pale and drawn, dark circles under his eyes. I wonder what Catherine must have thought when she found him like that on her doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. Ernest was crouched down by his side, his hand on Daniel's arm, speaking softly, but Daniel didn't appear to be listening. When Ernest saw us he stood up with a look of relief on his face and moved out of the way.

"Hello, Daniel," I said softly from the doorway.

His head jerked up, and he stared at me in disbelief. Then, he looked at Catherine, anger mixing with the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. "Thanks for the hospitality, Doctor Langford," he said bitterly, "but I'll be going now." He tried and failed to push himself to his feet.

I could tell Catherine was stung by the tone, but she said sternly, "Daniel Jackson, you stay right where you are. Jack was worried sick about you."

Daniel sank back down, but only because he hadn't been able to coordinate his limbs to get up. He dropped his head into his hands as if he couldn't bear to look at me. With a sigh, I walked over and sat down beside him, carefully easing an arm around his bowed shoulders and ignoring the flinch he gave. "You scared us to death running off like that, Daniel."

"Please go away, Jack," he mumbled.

"No can do, Danny." I tightened my arm briefly and said in a softer voice, "I think we've imposed on Catherine and Ernest's hospitality long enough. Don't you? What say we let them get some sleep now and you and I go back to ..." I almost said the infirmary then stopped myself. Daniel didn't have very good memories of that place right now, and I didn't want him to think about what had transpired there in the last few hours. We needed a safe haven, a spot with better memories. "My place," I finished. "You can get some sleep and we can talk --"

Somehow, he found the strength to jerk away from me and stumbled to his feet, the afghan sliding unnoticed to the floor. He stood there swaying, but when I would have jumped up after him, Catherine caught my eye and shook her head. Forcing myself to stay still, I watched as she walked to him and took his hands which I noticed were shaking badly.

"Daniel," she ordered gently, "look at me."

He couldn't even bring himself to do that. "You don't know what I've done," he choked. "You don't know!"

"Whatever you've done, it couldn't have been all that unforgivable, could it?" she asked simply. "After all, Jack's here."

I caught a glimpse of his ravaged face an instant before it crumpled then Catherine pulled him into a fierce embrace, rocking him slightly. I remembered holding him in much the same way not long ago and wondered if Daniel knew how much we -- his small circle of friends -- really cared about him. "You can stay here as long as you like, Daniel," she told him. "If that's really what you want. But I have never known you to run away from anything. Jack came here because he was worried about you and because you two need to talk. Don't you think you owe him that much?"

I hadn't gone into detail about the gun episode, but Catherine was sharp enough to have picked up on the nuances. I could see her question hit Daniel hard. I'm not sure I could have said that to him right now, but I was glad she had the guts to.

He pulled out of her arms and turned away, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. With his back still to us, and his arms wrapped around his chest, he said in a dull voice, "I know I'm off the team."

Trading a look with Catherine, I stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. There was a time to be best friend, and there was a time to be Commanding Officer. This was a time for C.O. "When did I say you were off the team?" I demanded. "I never said that."

His eyes flew to my face, and I tried not to wince at what I saw there. God, he was so lost. "But I -- then why are you here?"

"Why do you think I'm here, Daniel?" I asked with mild exasperation. "I'm here because you're a member of my team. I'm here because you're my friend." I paused and added with firmness, "I'm here because you're family, and right now you need help."

Hope warred with the disbelief on his face. "I'm...?"

"Team. Friend. Family," I repeated in a no-nonsense voice, injecting enough impatience to hopefully ground us in normalcy. I'd certainly used that tone enough with him in the past.

But it wasn't getting through to him. He was shaking his head, denying he was worthy of anything. "But the mine, you and Sam and Teal'c --"

I put my hands on his shoulders and had to restrain myself from giving him a well-deserved shake. "Daniel, listen to me. You're tired. I'm tired. Catherine and Ernest are tired. I think we all need to get some sleep before we talk about this, okay?" I squeezed his tense shoulders. "Come home with me," I coaxed, "and we'll both get some sleep, and then we'll talk later. Please?"

For a moment, I thought I was going to get an argument; then he suddenly let out a long, shaky breath and nodded, as if he no longer had the strength to argue. "'kay."

I let out the breath I'd been holding, too. I didn't want to upset Daniel any more, and God knows, I sure hadn't wanted to drag him out of there against his will, but I would have done it if I had to. This way was much better. "Okay." I casually slid an arm across his shoulders and turned him toward the door, looking over my shoulder at Catherine and Ernest. "Thank you."

Catherine nodded and mouthed, "Call me."

Keeping a firm grip on Daniel who was proving to be none too steady on his feet, I guided him out into the night.

Leaving the door to the spare bedroom ajar, I went back to the living room and picked up the phone. It only took one ring before Fraiser snatched up the receiver. "Janet, Jack. I've got him over at my place."

Her sigh of relief came clearly through the phone. "How is he?"

I glanced at the bedroom door. "Right now, he's asleep. He complained about a headache and I gave him some aspirin. Then, he was out like a light." I hesitated. "Headaches would probably be normal, right?"

"I think it's more stress and fatigue than anything else," she assured me. "And even if it is an after-effect, I'd still give him aspirin unless it doesn't seem to have any effect. In that case, we'd have to take a look at him and try something else."

I nodded absently. "Okay. Look, would you tell Sam and Teal'c what's going on? I'd rather not bring Daniel back in just yet. I thought we'd just stay here and try to work some things out."

"That might be best," Fraiser agreed. "You may be the only person who can get through to him right now, Jack."

I hadn't done such a good job so far, but I was determined he wasn't leaving here until we got a few things straight.

The next phone call was to Catherine. Like the doctor, she picked up the phone on the first ring. This time she wanted the whole story. She deserved that much, and I gave it to her. She didn't say anything through the entire recital, and when I finished, there was a long silence.

"What are you going to do, Jack?"

"I'm going to take care of him." I don't know where the words came from -- somewhere deep inside me that I thought had been closed off for good maybe, -- but once they were out I felt an incredible sense of relief. I still didn't have a plan, but my objective was set in concrete: I was going to take care of him.

I spent the next few hours on and off the couch. I opted to sleep there because I wasn't convinced Daniel wouldn't pull the same stunt he'd pulled in the infirmary and walk out the front door. If he was determined enough -- or depressed enough -- the lack of a car wouldn't stop him. I checked on him every couple of hours, but I don't think he moved a muscle from the time I got him to bed.

Finally, with the sun blazing in through the window, I gave up any pretense of sleeping and took a long shower to ease the aches and pains before going to the kitchen to start coffee. Daniel never had been worth a damn until he had that first cup in the morning. He probably wouldn't be too thrilled with the decaf, but Fraiser had been most explicit. He was on a caffeine and alcohol ban until further notice. I was just pouring the water into the machine when a scream from the bedroom nearly made me drop the pot.

Abandoning the glass pot on the counter, I ran to the bedroom to find Daniel sitting up in bed, eyes squeezed shut, his hands clasped in front of him, just as if he were pointing a...

"Oh, shit..." I was across the room and had him by the shoulders before he could scream again. He was rocking back and forth, tears leaking from under his closed lids. "Daniel," I said sharply. "Daniel, wake up. Damn it, Jackson, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath as if he'd stopped breathing some time ago.

"Daniel, look at me," I said firmly, giving him a little shake.

"I shot him," he whispered, as if in a trance. "I shot him. I --"

"You did not shoot me," I snarled. "Now, goddamn it, you look at me." I gripped his chin and forced his head around. His eyes were still glassy from the horrors he'd seen in his nightmare and as I watched, they slowly began to clear.

"I...saw the blood," he whispered brokenly.

"There was no blood, Daniel. You did not shoot me. That was just a dream."

Something like hope sparked amid the confusion in his eyes. "Dream?"

God help me, for a second I was tempted to let him believe it all had been a dream. I sat down beside him on the bed. "Do you know where you are?"

He looked around, his forehead creasing. "Your place," he realized, starting to relax as he recognized the familiar surroundings. Then suddenly he froze and I could almost see the memories flooding back. "It all happened, didn't it?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Yeah, it all happened," I said, as matter-of-fact as I could and absently began rubbing his arm just to keep some physical contact with him. He was withdrawing in front of my eyes. "But it's over now. You're back with us." Come on, Danny, stay with me here, I urged silently.

He brought his knees up and hugged them to his chest, pulling away from my touch. "Oh, God, what have I done?" he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

How to answer that question? "You made some mistakes, Daniel," I said carefully, "but the important thing is you came through it --"

"I came through it?" His head snapped around to stare at me. "I wasn't the one dying in that mine! I wasn't the one with a gun in his face!"

Okay, this wasn't the direction I wanted to go right now. "And we're going to talk about that," I said evenly. "But right now you need a shower." I wrinkled my nose. "In fact, I'd say you were overdue." Clapping him on the shoulder, I got up and turned around. "You know where everything is; I'll put out some clothes for you. Get a move on," I ordered briskly, acting as if Daniel had simply crashed here for the night after one too many beers, something he had done on more than one occasion. "Breakfast'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

Without looking back, I walked out the door and went back to the living room, where I stopped, straining my ears. When five minutes passed with no further sound, I called out, "Daniel, I know you don't want me helping you out with that shower." It only took a few moments before I heard the bathroom door close with an annoyed little 'click', and then the shower started to run. Giving a little sigh of relief -- that was one hurdle over -- I continued into the kitchen and got out the bacon and eggs. Daniel wasn't much of a breakfast person, preferring to empty a pot of coffee in lieu of real food, but I didn't even know the last time he'd eaten, so as far as I was concerned, the first order of business was to get some hot food into him.

The smell of bacon filled the house when Daniel finally made an appearance. He was wearing the sweat pants and shirt I'd put out for him, and his hair was still damp from the shower, but he looked a hundred percent better. Although a hundred percent improvement over how he'd looked before wasn't much to brag about.  Still, he was on his feet and moving, and that was a step in the right direction. The glasses had re-appeared on his nose, too, so I imagined either the 20/20 vision was already gone or in the process of reverting back to his normal near-sightedness.

He hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen, looking so unsure of himself I had to turn away as I waved him into a chair. "Coffee's on the table," I told him, attending to the frying pan. "Bacon and egg's are comin' up."

I sneaked a glance as he sat down and immediately picked up the cup of coffee. He took a healthy swallow then made a face when he realized it was decaf. "Sorry," I grinned, placing a plate of hot food in front of him. "Doctor's orders."

"Doctor's...?" He looked up at me with a frown. Then, it must have registered, because he dropped his eyes again as he carefully set the cup down. "Oh, of course."

I sat in the chair opposite him and pointed a fork at his plate. "Eat," I ordered. "Then we'll talk."

He pushed the plate a little to the side. "I'm not really hungry, Jack," he said listlessly.

It killed me to hear him like that. The Daniel Jackson I first met at Cheyenne Mountain was a man driven by passion for his work. I didn't understand Daniel then, and I didn't even like him much, but I could relate to that. Over the last couple of years, I'd seen him slammed by blows which would have destroyed a lesser man. But he always bounced back. He had something inside him that just wouldn't give up. No matter how many times he was knocked down, he got back up. I had an idea he'd had a lot of practice with that in his past. After everything we'd been through, I'd be damned if I was going to lose Daniel Jackson to some God-damned Goa'uld machine.

I dropped my fork onto my plate with a loud clatter and he jumped, his head snapping up. "Okay, here's the deal, Jackson," I said flatly. "You either eat, or we go back to the infirmary, and Doctor Fraiser can feed you with tubes. Your choice."

The last thing -- the very last thing -- I wanted to do was drag him back to the infirmary and have him force fed. I knew it would only lead to disaster. But he had to start taking some steps on his own, had to show me he was ready to fight his way back.

He stared at me, the initial hurt in his eyes slowly giving way to a kind of dull resignation. Without a word, he pulled the plate back in front of him, picked up his fork, and began eating.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something. I wanted to yell at him and have him yell back. I wanted to hug him hard like I had in the storage room and tell him everything was going to be all right and make us both believe it. But I couldn't do any of those things. So I picked up my fork and ate my breakfast, unobtrusively keeping an eye on him as he mechanically did the same.

When the food was gone and the dishes in the sink, there were no more excuses. With his hands wrapped around the cup, Daniel was staring into what was left of his coffee. I added some fresh to what I knew had long since gone cold and said quietly, "Okay, Daniel, the living room. It's time to talk."

He drew in a shaky breath but nodded and got to his feet. His hands were shaking again, and he bit his lip as he concentrated on carrying the cup without spilling the coffee. I followed without a word; he sank into what had become his usual chair over by the fireplace, and I took the sofa. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, but I forced myself to remain quiet. Anything I had to say would come later. It was up to Daniel to start.

He was staring into the cup clutched between his hands again. "Jack... I don't know what to say. I don't know how to..." His voice trailed off, and he gave his head a sharp shake, then started again. "What I did was --"

"I swear, if you say the word unforgivable I'm coming over there and knocking you off that chair," I said sharply. He flinched, whether at my tone or the words, I didn't know, but it did have the effect of forcing him to meet my eyes for the first time since last night at Catherine's. "I could tell you a thing or two about unforgivable, Daniel," I continued, quietly now, "and this wasn't it."

He shook his head, the emptiness in his eyes telling me he was a long way from listening to anything I had to say on the subject of forgiveness. "You don't understand, Jack."

"Explain it to me," I demanded.

The cup went down onto the coffee table with a loud thud. "You could have died in that mine," he ground out. "You and Sam and Teal'c could have all died! Don't you understand? You could have all died because I was too weak to stay out of that -- that --" He couldn't even say the word. I watched as he yanked off his glasses and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Headache?" He looked like his head was splitting.

Daniel grimaced as he set his glasses back on his nose. "Body ache," he muttered.

That didn't surprise me one bit. I could see little furrows between his eyes indicating pain and the way his muscles twitched without warning. Fraiser's sedatives would be completely out of his system by now, and there would be nothing to soften the physical discomfort. "Look, why don't I call Fraiser and see if she can give you something --"

"No!"

His protest was so vehement it actually shut me up for a moment. "Daniel?" I finally prodded, waiting for an explanation.

"I just... I don't want anything," he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

"And the reason you don't want anything would be...?" When he didn't answer, I did it for him. "You're worried anything Fraiser gives you at this point might get you started on a different kind of dependence?" I offered and saw his jaw tighten. "Okay, I can understand that," I said slowly, and I could, only too well. If that was really the reason. "But I don't think you're going to develop a craving for aspirin if you take some for your headache."

"Just drop it. Please, Jack?"

He sounded so defeated, I nearly did, but I knew then it wasn't really a matter of a fear of drugs stopping him from seeking some relief. "Then again," I continued conversationally, "what a great way to punish yourself. Right, Danny boy?"

He threw me a look containing a healthy dose of dislike in it. "You don't understand."

My temper snapped, and I jumped to my feet, too angry to remain seated any longer and play this game. "Oh, play a new record, Jackson; I'm gettin' tired of hearing that one." Stalking across the room to loom over him, I jabbed a finger at him. "And don't you dare to presume to know what I understand. You got that?"

I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth, but by then, it was too late. I'd told Catherine -- and myself -- I was going to take care of him, and I realized suddenly I didn't have a clue how to do so. He was staring at his clasped hands in his lap, and I saw the tremors had had gotten worse.

I took a long breath then reached down and touched his shoulder. "Sorry."

His head bobbed briefly, but he didn't look up. I let my hand linger there a moment longer then returned to the couch. "Tell me about the sarcophagus."

The heel of his right foot began to drum a rapid tattoo on the carpet as if he'd experienced a sudden flow of energy which needed an outlet. "You know about the sarcophagus."

"I'd like you to tell me. What happened, Daniel?" I leaned forward. "She put you in there to save your life. When you came down to the mines after, you were completely healed." I paused. "Why'd you go back into it?"

His leg was going like crazy. "I...was desperate to get you guys out of the mines. Her father wouldn't discuss it. I kept trying, but I couldn't get through to him. Shyla..." His voice cracked on her name then he continued, "Shyla wanted me to get back into it, said maybe I wasn't healed completely. I didn't want to, but she said something like, you trust me, I'll trust you. So I thought if I showed I trusted her..." He shrugged, his face miserable.

Well, that was more than I knew before. "And after...?

"I told you." The glasses went onto the coffee table so hard they bounced. "I was too weak to stay away from it."

I shook my head, watching as he rubbed his forehead. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"It's the truth," he said harshly, his voice muffled by his hands. "If it had been you or Sam --"

"What if it had been?" I broke in. "Daniel, that thing is Goa'uld technology. It's supposed to screw up your mind! What makes you think any of us could have fought it?"

"You could have."

The statement held such simple conviction I was stunned into silence for a few moments. "You don't know that," I said quietly when I'd finally found my voice. "Neither do I."

"Then let me tell you what I do know." Suddenly he was on his feet, pacing erratically around the room, arms wrapped around his chest. "You weren't the one who went running off on a strange planet -- again -- and got us all thrown into slave labor. You weren't the one who couldn't even manage to escape when we had the chance. You weren't the one who kept climbing back into a sarcophagus until you didn't even know who you were any more. You weren't the one who left your friends to die in a mine. You weren't the one who threw Doctor Fraiser halfway across a room. You weren't the one who beat up a soldier who was just trying to do his job." He stopped suddenly as if he had simply run out of energy, his back to me, his chest heaving and voice cracking. "And you weren't the one who held a loaded gun on your closest friend and --" He couldn't go on.

It was a damning litany. Unless you knew most of it was the result of an alien device which had the power to change the gentlest, most compassionate man I'd ever known into an arrogant, violent, egomaniac with no thought for anyone but himself, it would have condemned him out of hand. I got to my feet and walked over to him, slowly. He was hugging his chest and gulping air as if he were trying to keep from crying. When I stepped in front of him, he turned his head away, even though his eyes were screwed shut.

"Oh for crying out loud." I laid a hand against the side of his face and applied a little pressure. "Daniel, look at me. Please."

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, but he was looking somewhere around my left ear. "Daniel, you did not shoot me."

"I could have --"

"But you didn't," I said firmly. "You fought it. Don't you remember that? You fought it, and you won."

"Some victory," he mumbled.

"Yes, it was," I said evenly. "It was some victory."

That's when he looked at me, the naked pain in his eyes nearly taking my breath away. "You don't get it, do you? So I won in the end, so what? That doesn't change what happened, doesn't change what I did."

"Can't change the past, Danny. All you can do is learn from it and move on."

He nodded, wearing his sadness like a mantle. "Oh I learned from it all right," he said softly.

Something about the way he said that sent a chill through me. "What --" The phone rang. I hesitated a moment, looking at Daniel's too-composed face then turned away and grabbed the receiver.

It was Carter, worried because she and Teal'c hadn't heard anything from me. There wasn't much I could say with Daniel standing right there, but when she asked if they could come over, I looked at him. "Sam and Teal'c would like come over. They've been worried about you."

There was an expression on his face I couldn't quite identify and that concerned me.

"Yeah, I need to talk to them."

I told them to come ahead then hung up and turned back to Daniel. Before I could say anything, he said, "I'd like to lie down for a while. I'm pretty tired."

I couldn't dispute it; if how he looked was any indication of how he felt, he must've felt like crap. "Sure, go ahead. I'll let you know when they get here."

It wasn't until he'd left the room I realized we really hadn't gone any further than where we'd been last night.

I occupied myself with mindless domestic tasks until Sam and Teal'c arrived. I went out to meet them because I knew Sam, at least, would be asking questions, and I wanted a chance to talk to them before I woke Daniel.

Carter didn't disappoint me. "How is he?" were the first words out of her mouth.

Even though I knew they were going to ask the question, I still didn't know how to answer it. Finally, with no way around it, I opted for honesty. "I don’t know."

"Daniel Jackson still will not speak to you?" Teal'c asked, his brow gathered in a puzzled frown.

"No, he's talking, I guess. He just isn't... listening."

Distress twisted Sam's face as she looked past me to the house. "Colonel, if he won't listen to you..."

She didn't finish the thought and I refused to go there. "Then maybe he'll listen to the three of us," I said briskly. "Come on." As I moved, I stopped suddenly when I saw Daniel standing at the window watching us. Before we could take another step, he turned away.

As we stood staring at the empty place at the window where he'd been standing Carter asked quietly, "What's his state of mind?"

I thought back to what Catherine had told me last night and decided she'd summed it up as good as anything. "He's lost, Sam."

"We must help him find his way," Teal'c stated with calm determination.

I could have hugged the big guy; instead I clapped him on the shoulder. "That's our job, kids," I agreed, letting some of Teal'c apparent certainty filter into me. "We help him find his way."

Daniel was waiting for us inside, standing by the fireplace. His brief nap didn't seem to have done him any good and I saw the glasses were back on his nose. But he still looked like he was suffering from one hell of a headache.

Before anyone could say a word, Sam was a blur, crossing the room, gathering him into a fierce hug. After a moment's hesitation, his arms closed around her and he dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. I turned away to give them some privacy and heard her murmuring something to him, but there was no reply from Daniel. After a few moments, she let him go and stepped back; her eyes were very bright, and by the look on Daniel's face, he was holding himself together only by the greatest effort.

Next Teal'c crossed the room, moving slowly and deliberately, his eyes never leaving Daniel's face. When he was directly in front of him, Teal'c placed his two big hands on Daniel's shoulders, and I could see his fingers tighten. "We are here, Daniel Jackson," he said with quiet firmness, "and we will help you find your way."

The simple pledge was almost Daniel's undoing. Even from across the room, I could see the tremor racing through his body. He took a deep gulp of air, and his lips moved, but no sound came out. Even so, we all recognized the thank you he tried to speak.

Teal'c nodded briefly and replied in a calm voice, "You are welcome."

What I wouldn't have given for just one iota of that man's confidence right now. Of all the humans Teal'c interacted with, I think Daniel was probably the one furthest outside his experience and the one he understood least. I had to envy his optimism, but I knew he had no idea how far away we were from our goal.

"Okay, why don't we all have a seat?" I offered. The man who looked like he needed to get off his feet the most remained stubbornly standing by the fireplace. Teal'c seemed like he'd like to forcibly escort him to a chair, but when I gave him a brief shake of my head, he reluctantly turned away.

When we were all seated, Daniel, who was again hugging his chest probably in an attempt to keep himself from shaking, raised his chin and met our gaze. "I need to apologize to each of you," he said in a quiet, strained voice. "My actions on P3R-636 put your lives in danger which is something I promised myself I would never allow happen." He shook his head, pain mingling with the bewilderment in his eyes. "I have no excuse, no justification for anything I did --" He looked directly at Sam "-- or said. I wish I could blame it all on the sarcophagus, but I can't."

It was left to Teal'c to voice the question we all had on our minds. "I do not understand, Daniel Jackson. Was it not the sarcophagus which caused your sickness?"

"Sickness." The choked word came out of Daniel's mouth like a curse. "That's a charitable word for it, Teal'c."

"No, Daniel," Sam objected immediately. "That thing screwed up your body and your mind."

"Because I let it," he shot back. "Because I kept going back for more. Because I wasn't strong enough to resist."

Before we got back on that road, I interrupted, "Why don't you tell Sam and Teal'c what you told me, Daniel. Tell them why you went back into it after the first time."

He shot me an unfriendly look, but he repeated for the other two what he had told me earlier.

"So you were trying to gain Shyla's trust by getting back into the sarcophagus a second time and find a way to convince her father to release us." Sam recapped out loud what he had told us. She sat forward in her chair, asking gently, "Is that when it happened, Daniel? After you went in the second time?"

A muscle working in his clenched jaw, Daniel gave a sharp nod.

In that same gentle tone, she prodded, "How did it make you feel?"

Lulled by her calm acceptance, he replied without thinking, "Stronger. Smarter. Worthy."

Worthy? I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he realized what he'd just said. Where the hell had that come from? Something Daniel said back in the mines after he was already in the grip of the sarcophagus jumped up and bit me in the ass: You never listen! You never show me any respect! I felt my mouth go dry. Jesus, Danny, is that what you really think? Or was that the sarcophagus talking? And, the sixty four thousand dollar question: did I really want to know?

I could tell by the tiny frown on her face Carter had picked up on that, too, but she must have sensed this wasn't the time to pursue it. "So it only took that one time in the sarcophagus after you were already healthy to start feeling the addictive effects?"

I almost shook my head in admiration. Sam was approaching this as one scientist to another as a quest for knowledge, understanding that was perhaps the one tactic Daniel would instinctively respond to. How often had I seen those two with their heads together, minds each racing down different paths, reach the same conclusion? Sam with her scientific logic and Daniel with his intuitive leaps; somehow they usually managed to arrive at the same destination.

So wrapped up was I in my musings I almost missed his whispered response. "It happened so fast."

"Okay," Carter said eagerly, the same expression I'd seen on her face when she'd proven a hypothesis, "there you are. Daniel, you didn't expect that kind of reaction. No one would. You said it yourself; it happened so fast --"

"Sam." Daniel's eyes were closed. "Please don't make excuses for me."

"I'm not --"

"Yes, you are, Captain." She shot me a look which was a mixture of disbelief and accusation, but I knew I was right to interrupt. There was no way Daniel was going to grasp that particular straw, and we'd all better accept the fact right now and move on. "Daniel made a mistake. We all paid the price," I continued evenly, "he has apologized, and we've accepted." I raised an eyebrow to cue them.

"Of course," Sam said quickly as if there had ever been any question of forgiveness.

"I do not blame you for the events which occurred on P3R-636, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel stared at us as if we'd all suddenly grown second heads. "Well, you should!" His voice raised and cracked. "Don't you understand? I screwed up! Again!" A grimace of intense pain flashed across his face, and he swayed. For a moment, I thought he was going to pass out.

I started out of my seat, "Daniel --"

He waved me back. "No, let me finish, Jack."

"Why don't you sit down, and then you can finish?" I ground out, ready to push him into a chair by force.

It might have been my tone or the look on my face, but more likely it was the fact he was ready to fall over and knew it. Taking a step sideways, he dropped into the chair he'd occupied that morning and took off his glasses, rubbing between his eyes. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," he continued in a quieter voice, "but I appreciate the fact you believe I do. You all mean a great deal to me, and I would never -- knowingly -- do anything to hurt you."

"Daniel, we know," Sam spoke up softly, the barest hint of exasperation in her tone.

He nodded absently. "Yeah, I know you do. But the fact is you could have all died because of me, because of something I did, and if that ever happened... I couldn't live with myself." He straightened then, and put his glasses back on. "But like Jack said, you can't change the past, you can only learn from it and move on so that's what I'm doing."

The fact he had listened to me at all should have made me feel better, but something in his tone set off an alarm in the back of my mind. It sounded remarkably like the one that had been whooping while we were holed up in the storage room.

"I'm resigning from SG-1."

Our responses were immediate and predictable:

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"Daniel, you can't!"

"I do not understand the reason for that, Daniel Jackson."

He continued as if we hadn't said a word. "I've already called General Hammond so he can arrange for a replacement. He never wanted me on the team in the first place, and he was obviously right. I'm a civilian, I'm untrained for the types of situations we find ourselves in; my place is back at base in research."

"What about Sha're?" I demanded. "You just giving up looking for her?"

"I'll never give up, Jack," he replied firmly, but his eyes wouldn't meet mine. "But I can contribute more from the base than --"

"That's bullshit, and you know it," I snapped.

His jaw clenched, but he wouldn't respond.

Sam was shaking her head in disbelief. "Daniel, are you telling me you'd be happy sitting back at base while we gate off to new worlds without you?" The incredulity in her voice told everyone what she thought of that. For myself, I would never forget the first time Daniel introduced himself to a new species on another planet, and I learned we were 'explorers'. "Doing research on artifacts brought back by other teams?" She threw her hands up at the absurdity of it. "You might as well be a curator in a museum!"

I was gratified to see she scored a direct hit. Daniel may have spent a lot of time locked away with his books and research, but as we shared more time together, I'd also learned about Daniel Jackson, the practical archaeologist/anthropologist/linguist. Much of his research had been done in the field. As happy as he was curled up with a pile of books, I never saw him more alive than when he was exploring a new world, encountering new life forms and discovering some rock which might provide new insight to the 'meaning of life' stuff so dear to his heart. Hell, he'd been prepared to throw his life away on Ernest's planet to translate the universal language there. And now he was equally prepared to sit in a cramped office and study what other teams brought back for him? It would be a slow death to his spirit.

Slowly, Carter got to her feet and walked over to his chair. Kneeling by his side, she laid a hand on his arm. "Daniel, is this because you're afraid we don't trust you anymore?"

The smile he managed for her was tinged with sadness. "No, I know you trust me, Sam," he said softly. "The problem is, I don't trust myself. The next time I make a mistake..." His voice faltered, and he took a breath, forcing himself to continue. "The next time you might not be so lucky."

"I won't accept your resignation, Daniel," I said flatly.

"You don't have any choice, Jack."

"The hell I don't --"

He looked up, his face set and grim. "You can't force me to go through the Stargate."

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "We usually have to force you to stay back!"

"Well you won't have that problem any more." Suddenly he sagged, his eyes closing wearily. "Look, I've decided, and I think it's the best thing for everyone. And now I'm really tired, and I'd just like to go home. Okay?"

No, not okay. This was a long way from being over and I still had one ace to play. "No can do, Daniel. You're stuck here; that is, unless you'd like to return to the infirmary."

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Doctor Fraiser hasn't released you. She let me bring you here," I explained, bending the truth a bit, "on condition I stay with you. But if you want to leave," I shrugged, "I'll take you back to the infirmary."

His lips thinned, and from the sparks in his eyes I could see he was really angry. Good. That was an emotion I could deal with. "You mean I'm under house arrest?" he spat out.

"No, you're under a doctor's care," I explained, making my tone as annoyingly condescending as I could. "And you can be under a doctor's care here or back at the base. Your choice." It really wasn't much of a gamble; Daniel hated the infirmary with a passion and it was hard enough to keep him there when he had to be carried in on a stretcher. No way was he going to voluntarily walk back, especially with his most recent memories of the place.

Nevertheless, I saw him turn it over in his mind briefly before he looked at me in ungracious capitulation. "Fine," he said shortly and got to his feet.

Sam stood with him, keeping her hand on his arm. "You get some rest," she told him, "and we'll be back to visit."

He started to shake his head then stopped. It would have taken someone with a harder heart than Daniel Jackson to look into Sam's worried face and push away her offer of friendship. "Okay, Sam, thanks."

With a smile which was a little too bright, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then turned away, her worried gaze meeting mine.

"You will stay here with O'Neill?" Teal'c asked.

Daniel slid me a look. "Yeah, it looks like."

"Do you wish me to stay also?"

Daniel looked a little startled by the offer then smiled slightly. "No, Teal'c, thanks. I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company."

"I do not require company, Daniel Jackson."

With that statement, Teal'c accomplished what no one else had been able to. The tension broke, and a reluctant chuckle slipped out of Daniel. I had to wonder if that had been the Jaffa's intention all along. "Thank you, Teal'c, but I'm pretty tired. I just need to get some rest."

Teal'c nodded his understanding and started to turn away then stopped. Looking directly at Daniel, he said, "You are a man of great honor and courage, Daniel Jackson. It has been a privilege to serve on SG-1 by your side and to be your friend. It would distress me greatly should you decide to leave."

That was the longest speech I could ever remember Teal'c making. As Daniel stared at him, eyes wide behind his glasses, I spoke up quietly, "Couldn’t have said it better myself."

"Goes for me too, Daniel," Sam added.

Daniel looked at us all, blue eyes a little wild then abruptly turned away and fled. A few moments later, we heard the door to the spare bedroom shut.

I let out a sigh and dropped my head onto my chest. "Damn it to hell," I whispered.

"Sir? What do we do now?"

I shrugged and tried not to look as discouraged as I felt. "Give him some time. He's still pretty messed up. I'll try talking to him again later." As Carter turned to go, I touched her arm to stop her. "Let the general know what's going on, and talk to Janet; I'm worried about those headaches. He won't even take aspirin."

"Yes, sir. Call if you need us?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Sam. I'll call if I need you."

The rest of the day was quiet. I checked on Daniel periodically; he was lying with his back to the door, whether asleep or shamming I didn't know. Either way he wasn't about to talk so I contented myself with the thought he was at least getting some rest.

I spent some time on the phone with Catherine and Doctor Fraiser. Catherine, as expected, was worried, but Fraiser was somewhat encouraging. The fact Daniel was getting some rest was a good sign she said, but she also directed me to bring him into the infirmary if he continued to be plagued by those headaches and refused simple painkillers. We both knew the threat would probably be enough to get him to swallow some aspirin.

Although not hungry, I fixed some cold sandwiches and left them in the refrigerator in case he felt like eating later then laid down on the sofa. I hadn't had much in the way of sleep over the last few days, and before I knew it I was out like a light.

When I opened my eyes, it was dark, inside and out. As I pushed myself off the sofa, I found I was still a little stiff, but at least I'd caught up on much needed sleep. The first thing I did was switch on a light and go check on Daniel. When I quietly pushed his door open, I found the bed empty. Cursing under my breath, I immediately checked the bowl by the front door where I always tossed my car keys; they were still there. That didn't mean he hadn't called a cab and slipped out while I was snoring on the sofa. After all, he'd managed to sneak in a call to Hammond and resign when I thought he was resting earlier.

A quick check of the rest of the house and the backyard yielded. Calling myself six kinds of fool, I grabbed the car keys and headed outside. I knew he wouldn't go back to the base, and I was fairly sure he wouldn't return to Catherine's, knowing she would certainly call me, so that only left his apartment.

I had reached the curb when something made me look back at the house. Movement from the roof caught my eye, and I let out a sigh. He'd climbed the ladder and was on the roof where I kept my telescope. We'd spent more than a few evenings there under the stars; I'd dragged him up there not that long ago after our little visit to the planet with those virtual reality machines. I wasn't in such good shape myself after reliving over and over the mission where I'd watched John die. But after we got back to Earth, Daniel had retreated into himself and did his best to shut himself away from the rest of us. I'd let it go for a little while after hearing from Carter what that son of a bitch 'keeper' had put him through, figuring he needed some time to himself. But when he gave no sign of coming out of that little cocoon he'd woven for himself, I managed to coax him over one night on some pretense. We ended the evening on the roof under the silent stars, and eventually I got him to talk. I'm not sure how many ghosts he laid to rest that night, but in the following days, he was more like his old self. I liked to think that night had something to do with it.

It seemed like we would just get past one thing, and then another happened. Stargate travel can be hazardous to your health. Maybe they should engrave the warning over the Gate back at SGC. Not that it would have deterred any of us. I'd keep going until we found a way to stop the Goa'uld; Carter would go in her never ending quest to advance science; Teal'c would fight for his people's freedom; and Daniel... even if Sha're were rescued and returned to him, Daniel would keep going. His insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge about life in all its forms would keep him going.

The night suddenly got a little colder. Now Daniel was going to leave all that behind, leave the exploring to others, so he said.

I stood staring at the dark form on the roof for a few minutes then silently went back into the house. When I came out again it was with two mugs of hot chocolate clutched in one hand as I scaled the ladder.

Daniel didn't look over at me as I stepped onto the roof, didn't even acknowledge my presence until I stood in front of him offering the steaming mug. He looked up then and gave a little nod. "Thanks." He'd at least had enough sense to bring the comforter from the bed with him and was wrapped up in that against the cold night air. I sat down beside him, and together we stared at the night sky.

All kinds of conflicting emotions raced through me. Foremost was concern for a man who, despite seemingly insurmountable odds, had become my closest friend and very, very important to me. I didn't want to lose him, and I was afraid if he chose to shut himself away in a lab, locked away from the universe he himself had helped open, he would lose himself. He would lose that special passion which made Daniel... Daniel. It would be my loss, too.

Another part of me felt a sliver of relief that, if he really did choose to stay behind, he would at least be safe. How many times had I wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and throw him somewhere secure? How many times had we come within a hair's breadth of losing him? How many times had we actually lost him? We'd been lucky so far: he'd always managed to find his way back. But the time might come... Something inside me whispered, 'Wouldn't this be better? Wouldn't knowing he was safe be worth the trade-off?'

As his C.O. I wanted him on the team, but I wanted him whole. Every single trip I'd taken through the Stargate since our very first mission to Abydos, I'd taken with Daniel by my side. I'd come to rely heavily on his wealth of knowledge about cultures and his incredible facility with languages. He'd saved our collective asses more than a few times with his unique knowledge and stubborn refusal to give up. Carter and I would have been long dead in an ice cave in Antarctica if he hadn't persevered in the fact of what seemed like an impossible situation.

Yet, I also had a responsibility to Sam and Teal'c to ensure the integrity of the team. We might trust Daniel's reactions and instincts, but if he didn't trust himself, someone, sometime, would pay the price. I'd spent my entire adult life in the military, and I was trained to make decisions in the field, but that didn't make it any easier when men died under my command because of a decision I made. If any of us died because of something Daniel did, I don't think he could live with that. It was my responsibility to make sure he never had to try.

"I've made up my mind, Jack." Daniel's quiet voice broke the stillness of the night. "Please don't try to talk me out of it."

"I know you've made up your mind, Daniel, and frankly, I think standing down from the team is a good idea right now." The shape he was in, he'd either get himself or someone else killed. "But I still won't accept your resignation."

"Jack --"

"Let me finish." I shifted in my seat so I could see his shadowed profile. "You need to put a little time and distance between yourself and what happened before you make a decision that's going to affect the rest of your life -- not to mention ours."

"Come on, Jack, we both know it's --"

I broke in sharply, "I swear, Daniel, I'd better not hear the words 'for the best' come of your mouth." I could almost hear his jaw snap shut. "Because we both know that's not true," I continued in a softer tone. "I could sit here and remind you of all the times you've pulled our bacon out of the fire because of who you are and what you know. We can't simply put another archaeologist on the team and fill the hole you'd leave. You have to know that." Then, it occurred to me that, no, he probably didn't know. I took a drink of the hot liquid to give myself a moment or two. Then, I drew a deep breath and took the plunge. "Daniel, when you came back down in the mines on P3R-636, you said something --"

"I said a lot of things after I went into the sarcophagus, Jack," Daniel broke in hoarsely. "I'm not very proud of any of them."

I allowed the interruption then continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You said I never listen to you, never show you any respect." I could almost feel him cringe at my side. "Is that what you really believe?"

His voice was a hoarse whisper. "That Daniel believed it."

"Don't sidestep," I said sternly. "What do you believe?"

I could hear his fingernails softly tapping against the side of his mug. "Sometimes," he said slowly, with the barest hint of stutter, "it feels that way, yeah."

His confession hurt more than I thought it would. "And if I told you that wasn't true, that I have enormous respect for your abilities and knowledge, and I always listen to you -- when I need to know what you're telling me -- would you please believe me?"

Whatever reaction I was expecting, it wasn't the sudden choking noise I heard. "When you need to know what I'm telling you?"

I looked at him quickly and saw him shaking his head, belatedly recognizing the sound as a snort of reluctant humor. "Yeah, well sometimes, Danny boy," I said dryly, quickly adapting my tone, "you tell me way more than I need to know at the time. And sometimes, like when we were running for our lives from that tribe on PRC-339, I really didn't need to know about the evolution of their architecture, no matter how fascinating it seemed."

He gave a brief nod but didn't say anything, and I realized we'd lost the moment. "Daniel," I said finally, "it's real important to me you believe what I just told you. I'm sorry if I've said or done things which make you think I don't respect you, but that's just not so."

        He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know, Jack. Thanks. That means a lot to me." He took a drink of his hot chocolate then set it on the floor by his foot. "I know it's hard for you to understand a lot of things I've tried to tell you --"

        "Oh, for crying out loud! Why do you keep saying that?" I waved my hands in frustration and felt hot liquid from the forgotten hot chocolate splash my pants. The shock of the hot liquid immediately soaking through my pants made me hiss impatiently before demanding, "What exactly is it you think I can't understand?"

He snapped around to face me, and although it was dark, there were enough lights in the surrounding houses to help me make out his anguished features. "How can you know what it feels like to fail people who trust you? To let them down when they needed you most? To be so weak --"

        "Oh, here we go again."

In the sudden silence all I heard was his ragged, deep breathing. He turned away and tilted his face to the sky. "Jack, you're the strongest man I've ever known," he whispered harshly. "How could you possibly understand how I feel?"

And there it was: Truth or Dare time. What about it, O'Neill? Do you dare tell him the truth about yourself? I wished I could just walk away, forget this whole conversation, knew I couldn’t... wouldn't. "Oh, Danny, don't go holding me up as a shining example of strength." I honestly didn't mean it to come out sounding so bitter, but it did, and I felt rather than saw Daniel turn toward me.

"What?"

It was too late to call back the words. I was committed now. But then I realized, when it came to Daniel, I'd been committed all along. I stood up and walked to the railing at the edge of the roof, taking a drink from my mug and wishing fervently it was something a lot stronger than hot chocolate. I stared up at the night sky, bracing myself as ugly memories began to pour back faster than I could assimilate them. "Do you honestly think you're the only person who ever failed anyone?" I asked roughly. "You want a list, Daniel? Well, let's start at the top. Let's start with my son." Almost immediately, I heard him move. The next thing I knew he was by my side.

"Jack, please don't," he pleaded softly. "You don't have to --"

"Then, there's my ex-wife. I was so supportive when we lost Charlie. I was willing to go to another planet and commit suicide, leaving her alone to deal with that, too."

"Jack!" He was gripping my arm tightly. "Please don't do this to yourself."

        That's my Danny. He could be caught up in a personal crisis the size of Chulak, but if he thought you had a problem, suddenly you were the most important thing in his life. Your crisis took precedence while his was set aside for later. It was one of the most endearing things about him, one of the things that made him so vulnerable, and one of the things which made me care for him so much I was willing to stand out here and tell him the truth about myself.

"Then let's add the names of all the men who've died under my command because I wasn't able to bring them back safe and alive. You even knew some of them. You remember Kawalsky, don't you --"

I broke off as he roughly pulled me around to face him. To my utter surprise, he gave me a little shake. "Jack, stop it! Kawalsky wasn't your fault, you know that --"

"Why not?" As the memories flooded back, so did the bitterness, the guilt. "He was under my command. What about Charlie and Sara? Also not my fault? They depended on me. On me, Daniel, and I let them down."

He gave me a long look, then said quietly in a firm voice, "That's crazy, and you know it." He licked his lips in his nervous way I knew so well and said very carefully, "What happened to your son was an accident."

"My gun." I said the damning words flatly and allowed the pain grow and swell in my chest. Too late, I realized this had all gotten out of hand. My little plan to distract Daniel, to show him other people had struggled through pain and guilt and weakness, had backfired. This wasn't about Daniel anymore; suddenly it was about me.

In the same instant I realized it, I saw the comprehension in Daniel's eyes. If he could have taken my pain into himself at that moment, there is no doubt in my mind he would have done it in a heartbeat. That thought made me furious. This was my pain, and it wasn't for sharing. Yet there was more where that came from, and I couldn't stop it from pouring out any more than I could have stopped water spilling from a broken earthen dam.

Oblivious to the thoughts racing through my mind registering only my distress, he slid his hand up and down my arm in a soothing motion. "Jack, why don't we go inside and --"

"Sit down, Daniel," I said abruptly.

His hand stopped and confusion touched his features. "What?"

"I said, sit down." I smiled mirthlessly. "I could make it an order if you like."

All expression was instantly wiped from his face. There's not much Daniel hates more than the words 'that's an order'. It doesn't matter the only times I ever use those words with him are to keep him safe, or to make sure he gets at least some sleep before a mission. I used them now because I was through playing this by Daniel's rules. Now, we were playing by mine. Make or break, my mind whispered to me. For both of us.

His face was still unreadable, but there was a definite edge of anger in his tone. "You can't give me orders, Colonel. I'm not a member of --"

”You're a member of my team until I say you're not," I snarled. "And I'm telling you, as a member of my team, to sit down."

I could almost feel the resentment radiating off him, but he turned away and walked stiffly to the chair. "Okay, Jack," he agreed in the kind of condescending tone he might use with an ass like Senator Kinsey.

Once he was seated, I took a deep breath and walked behind him. I could feel him tensing up, but he didn't look around. I planned to keep it that way. "All right. So far we've determined I've failed some pretty important people in my life." He started to spring to his feet, but I was ready for him. My hand clamped on his shoulder, keeping him in his seat. "Stay put" I said sharply. "I'm not done yet." I paused. "Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, failure. You're one up on me, Danny. You got the chance to apologize to the people you let down, and you got to hear them say they forgave you. I didn't have that chance. Not with Charlie. Not with Kawalsky or all the other good men I've lost in the field. That kind of failure is real permanent," I mused, my thoughts turning inward. "You don't get the chance to redeem yourself."

I heard his breath catch. "Jack --"

"Quiet, Daniel." This time it wasn't an order, it was a request, and he lapsed into silence. I stiffened my spine and continued in as level a voice as I could manage, "Now, let's talk about weakness since you seem so hot on that subject."

He was shaking his head, and I could hear him whispering, "Please, Jack, don't. Whatever this is, please don't."

Too late. The emotional dam had broken. "Do you remember when we were in the storage room, Daniel?"

His answer was slow in coming and wary, "Yeah."

"You remember what I said to you? How I knew what you were going through; I knew what it was like?"

This time he nodded. The muscles under my hand knotted with tension.

"I meant that. I knew what it was like because I've gone through it, too."

"I don't under--"

He clamped his mouth shut when my fingers tightened on his shoulder in warning. "It doesn't matter where we were or what we were doing there; it was a long time ago. The reasons don't matter any more. I headed up a small unit of three other men. We were behind enemy lines. The mission was a bust; we missed our pick-up and I had a compound fracture of my left leg. We were on the run three days before we were finally rescued. In that time, all they could do for me was to keep shooting me full of morphine to control the pain. After three days of steady doses of morphine, you can guess what happened."

A shudder suddenly raced through Daniel's body.

I paused as memories crawled in my mind. "By the time they got me to what passed for medical help, I was living from dose to dose, screaming for it. I still hadn't gotten to a real hospital.  The first place they got me to wasn't prepared to handle the kind of mess I'd made of my leg so all they could do was make me as comfortable as possible until they could fly me to a hospital. The way they did that was, you guessed it, more morphine. By the time I finally reached a real hospital facing six hours of surgery on my leg, I was so hooked on morphine I wasn't much more than a gibbering idiot."

I could feel him tensing to speak, but I beat him to it. "And before you say it, yeah, I know that wasn't my fault. But what do you think about a man who lies to keep getting drugs, Daniel? I was in an overcrowded, understaffed base hospital in Germany. Nobody had the time to really analyze my situation; nobody picked up on the fact I shouldn't still be in that kind of pain. It was easy. I just kept lying about the pain, and they kept feeding my habit. Their job was to get me ready to ship back home, and if I needed painkillers to stay comfortable then they gave me painkillers."

I stopped to take a breath and sift though the memories which were coming back faster than I wanted. "It got a lot harder once I was shipped Stateside. They put me in a decent VA hospital, and the doctors started paying attention to my chart. My lies had to get better so I made them better. After a while, you start to get these... paranoid delusions people are trying to keep you away from your drugs, from the pills that make you feel good and strong. Your doctor, your wife... your little boy. Didn't matter. Suddenly everybody was the enemy. So you lie to everyone. Nobody will come between you and that next pill. And you start to change. You're not... you anymore. Your wife has seen the changes and she tries to talk to you, but you're not having any of that. She's just tryin' to come between you and those pills. Your kid starts avoiding you because you're not the dad he used to know, but that's okay, you don't really have time for him anyhow. Maybe later, you think."

My voice gave out at that point, and it took me a few moments to get it back. "Then one day you come in from working on the car, and you head straight for your stash, and it's gone. You start to tear the room apart; you're going crazy. Then, you hear your wife in the bathroom, and you know. She's in there, flushing your pills down the toilet. So you run in there with no other thought on your mind but to save those pills, and you grab your wife, and..."

Daniel hunched over suddenly, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. "Don't, don't, don't," I could hear him whisper.

It distracted me long enough to regain my slipping control. "And the next thing you know, your kid's standing in the hallway crying and you and the woman you love are screaming at each other as you try to fish the pills out of the goddamned toilet."

The memory of the scene, blunted by time, was still sharp enough to nearly make me sick. "And that's what it took," I concluded dully, "to bring me to my senses, to realize what I'd turned into. I got the help I needed, and I beat the addiction, but not before I nearly destroyed myself and everyone I loved."

Now that I was finished I felt like one big scab which had been picked open to be left raw and bleeding. Suddenly, I was tired. And all I wanted was to be unconscious until all the pain finally receded again to manageable levels and the memories were buried deep inside. A part of me realized I had probably failed again with Daniel this time. How the hell was I supposed to help him deal with his pain when I couldn't even deal with my own?

"So there you are, Daniel," I said woodenly. "There's the 'strongest man you ever knew.' Doesn't seem so strong now, does he?" He hadn't said a word, hadn't interrupted me once during my confession, and he was silent now, still hunched over, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. What was there to say? We'd both fucked up in our own ways and while that shared knowledge should have brought us some measure of comfort, all it seemed to have done, to me at least, was to resurrect old pain and make it fresh again.

I was cold, I was hurting, and I was angry. I was angry at myself for dredging up old memories, and I was angry at Daniel for being the cause. And I was too tired to fight him, and my pain, any longer. "You want off the team, Daniel? Fine. You're off the team. You're right, you know, I can't make you go through the Stargate."

I walked over to the ladder and stood there a moment, looking at his shadowed form. "But I want you to think about something. Up to this point, all you've done is screw up on a mission. None of us enjoyed the experience, but we all survived, and the only one who's not willing to give you another chance is you. If you walk out on us now, you will be letting us down. And if one of us gets brought back through the 'Gate in a body bag because we missed something you might have seen or blundered into a situation you could have kept us out of because of what you -- and only you -- know, how are you going to feel about that?"

I already knew the answer: it would kill him.

I had nothing more to say. All I wanted to do now was to make the pain go away; and there was only one way I knew to do that.

When I woke, it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunshine coming in through the window facing the west. It took a moment for the significance to hit me. What the hell time was it? "Oh shit," I groaned and tried to push myself up without falling off the bed. To my surprise, I was covered with a comforter... the same one Daniel had dragged up to the roof last night. Last night. I rubbed a hand over my eyes, through my hair, trying to bring my thoughts back into focus. Then, my eyes fell on the whiskey bottle on the bedside table, and I grimaced in distaste. It had been a mistake, but it had been so long since I'd resorted to that method of induced amnesia I'd forgotten just how big a mistake.

Rolling carefully off the bed, I almost tripped over my shoes which had apparently been removed by Daniel and placed neatly where they could be fallen over by someone not yet firing on all cylinders. Stumbling into the bathroom, I spent a considerable amount of time in the shower trying to wash away the lingering cobwebs, then brushed my teeth and shaved. Feeling slightly more human, I went in search of Daniel.

I knew even before I saw the note on the kitchen table he was gone. Now I could look forward to explaining to Hammond, Fraiser, Catherine, Sam and Teal'c how I let Daniel walk out of my care while I was passed out in a drunken stupor. I was sure they'd be as impressed with me as I was with myself.

With a sigh I picked up the note and focused on the neat handwriting: Jack, I've gone home. Please understand, I just need some time alone. The coffee's ready, just flip the switch. Daniel.

I walked over to the coffee machine and did as I was told, and immediately the machine started gurgling as fresh coffee began to pour into the waiting pot. Beside the machine sat the bottle of aspirin which Daniel had refused to take but apparently decided I'd need. He was right. I could only shake my head in amazement that a man who was caught in the throes of his own personal nightmare would take the time to make sure someone else had fresh coffee and aspirin handy when they woke up from drinking themselves senseless.

I grabbed a cup of coffee as soon as it was available, swallowed three aspirin, then went into the living room. Snatching the phone, I quickly dialed Daniel's number and counted the rings. When the answering machine came on, I barely waited for the message to end before speaking. "Daniel, it's Jack. I just need to know you're okay so would you please pick up the phone." When there was no response, I felt my headache edge up a notch. "Danny, please. If you're there, pick up. I swear, I just want to know if --"

"Jack. Yeah, I'm fine." At the sound of his voice I relaxed, sagging back into the sofa cushions. "Are you okay?"

I grinned ruefully. "Thanks for the coffee -- and the aspirin."

"Well, you looked like you might need it."

"I did," I admitted. I hesitated then said cautiously, "Look, Daniel, I'm not sure it's such a good idea for you to be alone right now --"

"I am." The tone was firm, final. Before I could say anything, he continued, his voice softening, "Jack, listen. I just need a little time to myself. I need to work through some things, and I can't do that at your place -- or back at base."

His voice went up a bit at the end, telegraphing enough tension so I didn't even bother trying to suggest he come back to SGC with me. It had been a long shot anyway. I had this awful, gut twisting feeling I'd lost him for good this time, and I had no one to blame but myself. If I hadn't laid all that shit on him last night, maybe he could have worked through this in his own time with some temporary stand-down from the team. Instead, I brought out all the ugliness I had hidden inside and threw it at him, showing him such a pretty picture of how I dealt with it all. No wonder he couldn't wait to get away.

I rubbed my forehead and willed the aspirin and coffee to start working. "Okay, Daniel. But promise me something."

His voice was wary. "What?"

"If you need to talk to someone, you call, okay?I'd like it to be me, but if you don't feel comfortable with that, then call Sam or --"

"Jack."

The interruption stopped my stumbling monologue. "What?"

"If I need to talk, I'll call you."

Hearing his admission did more good than all the coffee and aspirin in the world. I sat up a little straighter, feeling some of the heaviness on my chest fall away. "I'll hold you to that. Oh, and Danny, I'm going to call, too -- just to make sure you're okay." I thought I'd better make that clear from the outset because if he thought I was just going to leave him there in his apartment without some sort of contact, he had another think coming.

I could almost see a look of tolerant amusement on his face when he replied, "I never expected anything else, Jack."

The conversation with Daniel had taken place three days ago. Since then, I'd returned to base and went about my duties, calling him at least twice a day. Our conversations were always short. I'd ask how he was, he'd say he was 'fine', and he was still trying to work through 'things'. He never invited more conversation than that, and as hard as it was, I didn't push. I was afraid I had already pushed him too far as it was.

I'd told Hammond, Fraiser, Catherine, and the rest of the team an edited version of what happened the last night at my house. My 'decision' to let Daniel return to his apartment was not a popular one. My acceptance of his resignation was even less so. Hammond didn't say much about it; his personal concern was having Daniel recover fully from his experience, and his professional concern was having him remain a productive member of SGC. Fraiser gave me a funny look, probably suspecting more than I was telling and remembering the hell I had given her when Daniel absconded from the infirmary on her watch. Catherine's disapproval was to be expected, and I received it loud and clear. I discovered she was a regular caller to Daniel as well, and although he didn't tell her any more than he told me, I was glad she was keeping the lines of communication open with him. Sam and Teal'c were plainly worried, but there wasn't much I could give them in the way of reassurance; I was worried, too.

Without knowing how long Daniel was going to be absent, not to mention whether he was even going to return to the team, Hammond finally took SG-1 off stand-down and ordered Carter to recommend a destination for our next mission, preferably one we could handle without an archeologist or linguist. Teal'c, Carter and myself were meeting with the general, and she had just put forth P3H826 as a viable planet when something totally unexpected happened: Daniel walked in, dressed in full SG-1 gear. He looked a lot better than when I'd seen him last, but he was nervous, his gaze darting around, making brief eye contact with everyone but me.

"I have another suggestion. I think we should go back to P3R-636."

The general let him talk, and it was obvious Daniel had given this some serious thought. He had a plan and viable reasons, even one which would appeal to Hammond: a diplomatic solution to mining the nadqueda the military was so anxious to acquire. There was just one problem, and I'm sure it had occurred to everyone standing there. There was a sarcophagus on P3R-636, and Daniel had just gone through one version of hell to rid himself of its effects. What would happen if he got near it again? After what he just went through, after the fears he admitted to, was he strong enough to fight the influence of the thing if he went back?

For the first time since he entered the room, Daniel looked at me, and as if reading my mind, pleaded softly, "Please, Jack. I need to take the chance."

Danny is the worst liar in the world. If he's trying to hide something, the first clue is he can't make eye contact with you. If that isn't enough, all you have to do is look in his eyes; the truth is there for anyone who chooses to look because it is just not in him to conceal truth, no matter how painful. He was looking me in the eye now, and I saw determination there, a spark of the passion which had defined the Daniel Jackson who first came to this project, and the beginnings of a kind of peace. He had wrestled with his demons and put them behind him. If I had any doubts 'our' Daniel was back, they dissolved in that instant.

I turned to Hammond and spoke the words to reunite SG-1 and put the past behind us, "We can back him up, sir. I'd like Daniel back on the team."

Hammond gave me a long look then did the same to Daniel. Apparently he was satisfied by what he saw because he nodded briefly. "Have your proposal regarding P3R-636 ready to present at 1500 hours," he ordered and left.

The general was no sooner out of the room before Carter had her arms around Daniel's neck, hugging him tightly. There was an embarrassed grin on his face, but he returned the embrace warmly. "Welcome back, Daniel," she said, finally stepping back.

He pushed his glasses back into place and nodded, looking around at us a little shyly. "It's good to be back," he replied, and there was a sincerity in his voice which couldn't be anything but real.

Teal'c walked up to him and clasped his arm. "Daniel Jackson, I am glad you have found your way back."

"No, Teal'c, I didn't find my way back, not alone. You all showed me the way back, and I am very grateful." Daniel took a deep breath and looked at each one of us in turn, letting his gaze finally rest on me. There was resolution in his eyes, but something else as well: the beginnings of peace. "It's not a journey I could have made alone."

I nodded, acknowledging the deeper meaning of what he was saying then briskly changed the subject. "Well, kids, you heard the general. We've got until 1500 hours to come up with a proposal for our return to P3R636. Let's get busy."

"Well, actually, I've already done quite a bit of work on that," Daniel offered, a little hesitantly. "It's in my office."

"We're ahead of the game then," I said with an approving nod. "Let's start going over it."

I began to move out when Daniel lightly caught my arm. "Um, Sam, would you and Teal'c mind going on ahead?  Jack and I need to go over a few things..."

Sam's smile was quick and understanding. "Sure. Come on, Teal'c." She winked at Daniel on the way out. "We can make the coffee."

"Make it decaf," he called after her as she and Teal'c left the room. When I raised an eyebrow, he said sheepishly, "Doctor Fraiser seems to think most of my headaches over the last couple of days are the result of caffeine-withdrawal rather than after-effects of the sarcophagus. She kind of wants me to detox."

"When did you talk to Fraiser?"

He looked surprised. "She called. We talked a long time about some of the after-effects, and she had some really good suggestions about things I could do which didn't involve taking any more drugs."

I blinked. "Fraiser called?"

"Um, yeah, a few times. The same as Sam and Teal'c."

"Carter and Teal'c called," I repeated.

"Even General Hammond called once."

This time I couldn't hide my grin. "Daniel, between all those phone calls -- because I know Catherine was calling, too -- when did you get chance to write a proposal about returning to P3R-636?"

"It didn't take long. There are several good reasons for returning there. I stressed the mining because I knew the general would put more weight on that, but --" He broke of suddenly and licked his lips. "Jack, I can handle it," he said earnestly, searching my face for any sign of doubt.

"I know you can, Daniel," I replied seriously. "I wouldn't have backed you up if I didn't."

At that, tension seemed to drain out of him. I could only admire the courage it took for him to come here today and stand up in front of us to make his proposal. He couldn't have known what kind of reaction it would provoke, but the fact he had to guts to come here and do it told me all I needed to know.

He was staring at me in that intense way he has which sometimes makes me feel like I must have something growing out of my head. "What?" I prompted.

He looked a little uncomfortable, shuffled his feet a bit, and then blurted, "Jack, are you okay?"

"Me? I --"

"I shouldn't have walked out on you that night. I should've stayed and made sure you were okay after everything --"

"Daniel." I actually had to latch onto his arm to get him to stop babbling. "I'm fine. It was a bad night for both of us. But sometimes that stuff just... comes out."

 He wrapped his arms around his chest and frowned a little. "But it came out because of me. You talked about all that to help me."

"Did it? Help you?" I clarified.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah it did, actually."

 "Well, then." I let it go. I would've gone through a lot worse than that to help him. I nudged him toward the stairs, eager to get back to what passed for normal around here. As we clattered down the metal steps, I told him, "I've got to drop a report off for the general. You guys go ahead and get started; I'll catch up."

 As we turned to go our separate ways at the bottom of the stairs, he turned back to me, lifting his index finger in the way he has when he wants my attention. "Just one more thing."

I held up my finger. "Just one?"

 "Okay, two."

With Daniel, it was always more than just one more thing. Somehow I managed to keep the smile off my face and pasted on a look of resigned attentiveness, a look Daniel has seen many, many times on my face. God, it was good to be back.

 A rare, genuine smile lit his face and sparkled in his eyes as he recognized the significance of the moment. Then, his eyes never losing contact with mine, he said simply, "You're still the strongest man I know, Jack and the bravest."

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway toward his office, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. Finally I just shook my head. "Don't know about that, Danny," I murmured. "I think I might know someone who's just a little stronger and a little braver."

 ~fin~