The Devil You Don't
by
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characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom,
MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is
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infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story
are the property of the authors. This story may not be posted anywhere
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The Devil You Don't
A trip to hell has one thing to recommend it – anyplace else seems like paradise in comparison.
The drive home from the base which I've traveled so many times I scarcely see it anymore now offers the most breathtaking vista this side of P3X-414 – which, trust me, would be the galaxy's vacation resort of choice if they ever open the Stargate up to tourists – despite the way the darkness is limiting my view to the swathe of pavement and a few bordering trees lit by the headlights. Have there really been times when I was sick of seeing trees? Didn't have that worry in the fires of hell – not a speck of green anywhere. Funny how you can miss a color.
Lowering the window, I drink in the fresh pine scent of the mountain. The night air blows soothingly across my face as it fills the car. What a luxury after Netu just to be cool again.
Teal'c, bless him, managed to rustle up some ice tea on the way to the infirmary. I must've put away a few gallons of the stuff while we were stuck there half the night and all the next day waiting for Fraiser to run and rerun her tests after patching us up. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful for her work, always am, but after the amenities like bandages and painkillers were taken care of, and I'd gotten some sleep, the tedium of the place started to work its usual magic and drive me nuts. What's the point of escaping from a prison only to be locked up again?
We were all bugging her to let us out of there. I know she didn't want to let my leg out of her sight, but I guess my logical arguments – okay, calling her a petty tyrant with a penlight fetish may not have been exactly logical, but at least the words Napoleonic power monger never came up – finally convinced her a night resting it at home would do it as much good as resting it on the base. Either that or Daniel's baby blues struck pay dirt. I've said it before, that boy does know how to grovel.
In any case, she sprung us. Gimpy leg notwithstanding, I beat them all out of there in our race topside. I had a date with home and my own bed.
Shifting my leg into a more comfortable position, I ease the Mustang around a curve and take another deep breath. The cool air's just the ticket to clear the brimstone out of my head.
I blink my eyes against a flash of white. Damn. What I really need is to clear that son of a snakebitch Apophis out of my head. Him and his tricky mind games.
Another flash and a voice, my own, pleading, "Why can't we just play catch?" No! I shake it away. I won't let that blood of Sokar swill contaminate my memories of Charlie. That snakehead's manipulations had nothing to do with reality.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. Knuckles whitening, I wrench the wheel to negotiate another curve. You'd think I'd be getting used to aliens messing around in my mind by now. It's not like it was the first time. Probably won't be the last. I oughta start charging admission. Wonder what's the going rate for brain scrambling.
Turning towards the open window, I gulp the fresh air. I'm sweating in spite of the coolness. Will I ever get that planet's infernal heat out of my system? It was so hot. So very hot. Heat blasting towards me… fire everywhere… fire engulfing Daniel! No! Bubbles fill my vision. Daniel, no, I won't let it happen. Not again.
White flash… bubbles… fire… Daniel!
*****
"Jack? Jack, wake up."
"Wha-?" Dark. Everything's dark. I'm floating in emptiness. The only sensation is the faint sound of someone calling my name. They sound pretty upset. Keep your pants on, I'm coming.
Oops, bad move. Moving, that is. Not the best idea I've had lately. Pain. Everything hurts. Pinpoints of white spinning through the darkness. Another sound, this one like a groan. My name follows, louder this time.
"That's it, Jack. Come on, wake up."
I know that voice. Daniel? Forcing my eyes open, I blink as a pale blur solidifies into focus. A frowning face hovers above me. Blue eyes, worry clear behind glass lenses. It is Daniel. Then he's not…? "Not dead?"
A relieved if shaky laugh. "No, you'll live. I couldn't find anything broken. You look pretty banged up, though."
"No, I mean…" I shift and hear the groan again before I realize it's coming from me. Not a bad diagnosis for a doctor of archaeology. My eyelids are about the only parts of my body that don't hurt when I move. Never mind. I'll deal with that. The important thing is Daniel's alive. No point in explaining I thought I saw him dying. I'm confused enough for two right now as it is.
I concentrate. If I feel like I've been in a wreck, then I've got another concern. "Car?"
"Yeah, you had a car accident. It's lucky I wasn't far behind you. I phoned the base, and they're sending help down the mountain. You should stay put until they get here, which should be any minute. They can take you back for Janet to check you out."
Terrific. Out of the frying pan, into the… I flinch as my mind shies away from the image of fire.
"Easy, Jack. Where does it hurt?"
The distress in the voice pulls me back into the moment. Daniel's crouched in the open doorway, the furrow between his brows visible in the overhead light.
"I'm okay." I lay my hand lightly on his arm to keep me grounded. "How's the car?"
A lopsided grin lightens Daniel's mouth. "No major damage. A little body work, it'll be good as new. Hope we can say the same for you."
"I'll mend." I'm an old hand at healing sore muscles. And at coping with dead friends – so crossing that one off my list puts me ahead of the game. I'll be fine… as long as the doc can fix whatever's short-circuiting my brain.
*****
Fraiser's report confirms my assessment. "Physically you've suffered nothing more than a new set of bruises to add to your extensive collection. You'll be stiff for a while, but you'll recover."
Yeah, yeah, Doc, you're not giving me any news here – other than how ticked off you are at seeing me in your shop for the same repairs all over again. You know that's SOP around here. Get to the point.
She does. "As for what you saw – it appears you had a flashback to the false memory of Daniel's death by fire that Nem implanted in your brain. My guess is it was triggered by the chemical substance Apophis forced you to drink."
"The blood of Sokar." Teal'c supplies her with the name of the rotgut. He and Carter were recalled to the infirmary as soon as Fraiser suspected my accident was mission-related.
"But, Janet, is a connection likely between two such different procedures?" Took the words right out of my mouth, Carter.
"And after such a long time?" Daniel's stuck in the next bed, having been drafted for re-testing as soon as he brought me in.
"Despite such disparate methods and technologies, they had the same basic effect, to alter neuron pathways in the brain affecting memory. We thought any residue from Nem's device had faded, but there must have been dormant trace patterns reactivated by the Goa'uld drug. I need to run tests on all of you."
"I did not drink the blood, and my symbiote would have restored me long ago." Teal'c, haven't you learned yet it's no use arguing with the doc here, I don't care how polite you are.
Sure enough, she has an answer for him. "I expect your test results to be different, as well as Sam's because of Jolinar, but all the data will contribute to my analysis and to the development of the correct treatment. I want to keep you all in here for observation. I can't release Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson until we can be sure the problem is completely cleared up and won't recur."
Oh that's just ducky. I can already feel the walls closing in. "Anybody else think it's stuffy in here?"
"Do not worry, O'Neill. I will provide all the ice tea you can drink."
"I'll get Siler to adjust the air conditioning, sir."
"And I'll play gin with you."
That's my team. At least I couldn't want for better company.
Fraiser hustles Teal'c and Carter off to be tested, and I'm left alone with Daniel.
I'm content to simply lie there looking across at the comforting reality blotting out the image of deep-fried linguist still branded on my mind's eye, but Daniel can't go for long without speaking. "It wasn't real, Jack. I know it felt real, but it wasn't."
I'm continually amazed at the way he reads my mind sometimes. "I know."
"None of it was. Not what Nem put there, or what Apophis did either."
"I'm okay, Daniel." My voice is soft, but I can't prevent a note of weariness from creeping in. I know we're going to have to talk this all out, but I don't feel up to dissecting it right now. I need to get a little distance from experiencing so much raw emotion in close succession. I didn't even have a chance to deal with the Char- with the whole Netu situation before the Nem thing got churned up again. "It's just gonna take some sorting out between what I saw and thought I saw, felt and thought I felt…" I shoot him a grin. "And you know how I love sorting through feelings."
Daniel smiles at my effort to show him – or myself – that I'm unaffected by the ordeal. "I've got some sorting out to do myself." His serious expression returns with his earnest words. "But one thing stands out in my Netu… vision – the memory of you telling me, ‘I do believe in you.' I want you to know that goes both ways, Jack. And that's as real as it can get."
We look at each other, and I know he understands how I feel without my needing to respond in words. He'll be there when I'm ready to talk – or if I'm not. That's what else I know is real in this – Daniel's a real friend. One I probably don't deserve, but there he is. The kind of friend who'll go to hell and back for you.
And the devil himself can't make me doubt that reality.