Long Road Back, Part 11

[catspaw]

It was strange, Daniel thought some hours later. You could get used to just about anything, given time. He wasn't feeling particularly tired any more; he wasn't feeling anything at all. His world had narrowed down to a realm of sound only: the beeping of machines, soft voices and softer footfalls, the distant sounds of other life outside the room and, every so often, the sounds of Jack having yet another seizure, nightmare, whatever the hell they were. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd been wrenched to his feet, lost all recall of the nonsense he'd spoken in response, lost all sense of the passage of time.

He was lost in the space between consciousness and sleep, listening with half an ear to sounds that had little relevance, suddenly aware that he was watching himself from a vantage point high up in one corner of the room. Like being out of phase, or something. Except more fun, possibly, seeing as he could see himself as well, see where he fitted in.

It was fascinating, this new perspective. Like watching a play, or a movie. The room was even lit like a stage set. Jack's bed was in a small pool of dim light, the still figure lying on it casting abstract shadows. His own chair was on the edge of the pool, the figure slumped in it casting no shadows at all. He almost held his breath, the feeling of anticipation was so great: some great, dramatic last act was about to be played out with a huge, clashing chord of background music.

No background music, just a single word, and suddenly he was falling, body twitching to break his fall as he jerked back to full consciousness again before scrambling to stand by the side of Jack's bed.

It took Daniel a moment to register that Jack's eyes were actually open. Not only that, but open and with a growing expression of disgust in them as they flicked around and took in his circumstances.

"Well, shit. Infirmary time again. Daniel? What's going on?"

"Hey." Daniel smiled crookedly down at him as a flush of relief coursed through him, scalding hot then icy cold, leaving him feeling clammy and shaky. "Welcome back."

Jack gave Daniel a blank look and a resigned sigh. "What happened this time? And why am I in restraints?"

"Mission went wrong. You went a little crazy there for a while. You don't remember?"

Daniel watched closely as Jack's forehead knotted briefly in thought before he gave up and answered defeatedly, "Not really, no."

"Well, don't try right now. It'll come back to you eventually, I guess."

"Carter? Teal'c? You?"

"All okay. You took the brunt of this one."

"Ah." Jack rolled his eyes and winced. "Go me. Bad?"

"Bad enough." Daniel squeezed Jack's shoulder. "But it seems like you're on the mend. I'd better call Janet." He reached for the bell.

"Yeah. My ass is itching. Aht!" he continued, raising one imperious finger from its position on the bed as Daniel moved towards him, "some things, a guy has to do for himself. It'll keep 'til I'm turned loose."

"What'll keep, exactly, Colonel?"

Daniel was startled by the voice coming from behind him. He'd been so absorbed in Jack that he hadn't heard Janet coming into the room. She crossed to the bed and looked over the readout from the EEG, then whipped out her penlight and started to make her checks. Finished, she gave a sharp nod of satisfaction when she looked back over the readouts again.

"My ass. It's itching."

Janet smiled widely. "Easily fixed. Do the routine for me while we get you out of these things." She moved to the head of the bed and began disconnecting electrodes and removing the cap, gesturing with her shoulder and eyebrows to Daniel to tackle the restraints. Jack meantime began the usual drill in a singsong voice: name, rank, serial number, date of birth, parents' names, current year, adding for good measure the names of the Stanley Cup winners for the last ten or so years.

Daniel was gripped with an overwhelming sense of anticlimax as he unbuckled the straps, watching Jack and listening to his recitation. How inane that the stress and strain of the last few weeks was all over, and it all ended with him listening to Jack recite hockey stats, for Chrissakes. He had to struggle to contain a hysterical bout of laughter that was threatening to erupt. He still felt as though all his nerves were stretched taut as piano wire, and the normalcy of the scene playing out in front of him only made them jangle worse than they already were.

"Damn, I hate those things," Jack muttered as Daniel removed the final strap from across his chest. Daniel gave him a sympathetic look as he folded it neatly away and Jack was finally able to shift on the bed and scratch with the greatest satisfaction and a gusty sigh of relief.

Too mundane to be true. Daniel started to chuckle weakly and the dam inside him burst. His chuckle became great gout of laughter, forcing itself out from way down deep in his belly, but even to his ears it sounded alarmingly like a sob. Everything was happening in slow motion. Janet turned her head to look at him and from a huge distance he heard her voice say sharply, "Daniel? What's the matter?"

He noticed that the room was swaying. 'How odd,' he thought abstractedly. And then, "Oh, shit." It was his last coherent thought before he slid in a graceless heap to the floor.


*

Daniel drifted back to consciousness slowly. He could feel himself wading through layer after layer of sleep although he wasn't sure that he wanted to. When he clutched at unconsciousness though, it fled all the more rapidly and he finally had to admit to himself that he was awake.

He opened his eyes reluctantly. Ceiling, huh. Boring and functional, doing exactly what ceilings should, helping hold the roof up. Then his attention sharpened a little: funny, he didn't remember that crack there, or he hadn't noticed it before, or something. It looked kind of like a map of the Nile, especially where it spread into finer cracks at what had to be the Delta end. He'd have to do something about that when he finally got up. Meantime, he was just going to lie here and drowse a little. His eyes drifted shut.

A split second later, they flew open again. Where the hell was he? Not at home, where he'd expected to be, that was for sure. No way did a crack like that belong in his bedroom ceiling. He shook his head irritably in an attempt to clear it. Hell, he couldn't remember feeling this woolly for a long, long time.

He was thirsty too, that fact impinged on his consciousness quickly. He worked his jaw, trying to scare up a little spit to moisten his mouth. It wasn't happening. When he lifted his hand to rub over his face, he felt a familiar drag on his arm. That was an IV if he'd ever felt one.

It was the last spur to gathering his wits. He was in the infirmary: now what in the world was he doing here? The last thing he could remember was Jack, talking quite lucidly in the intensive nursing unit.

Jack! Where was Jack?

He carefully lifted his head and looked around at all the empty beds surrounding him. Not another living soul to be seen. Panic clutched at him and he groped for the bell at the side of the bed.

The expected nurse didn't materialise: instead, Ross's kindly, ugly face appeared around the door a second or two before the rest of his body sidled around it.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Ross didn't miss a beat: he ambled over to the bed, raised Daniel to a semi-sitting position, handed him a covered cup with a straw and pulled up a chair and straddled it, resting his forearms along its back. "That's the stock answer. How are you really feeling?" When Daniel just shrugged and sucked in some very welcome moisture, he continued, "My diagnosis would include words like lethargic, enervated and depressed. Like a hangover with none of the fun of getting there. Add in a touch of guilt and panic, just to season the pot - and the answer is -- shit. You feel like shit."

Despite himself, Daniel was surprised into a small chuckle. "Is that the medical term, or are you dumbing it down for me here?"

Ross grinned back. "A little of both. I figured, which would you rather? Me dumbing it down, or Doctor Fraiser giving you hell about your electrolyte levels?" He shrugged. "It all boils down to the same thing in the end - and that's 'shit'."

Daniel grimaced rueful agreement and looked around. "Where is Janet, anyway?"

"In surgery. Medical emergency." At Daniel's look of alarm, he added, "No, not Colonel O'Neill this time. He's fine."

"So where's he? And what am I doing here?"

"He's debriefing with General Hammond - yes, he is that much improved. You, my dear Doctor, are here because you have apparently persistently failed to look after yourself adequately in the past few weeks. I'm paraphrasing Doctor Fraiser there," Ross added with a grin before he studied Daniel's puzzled expression and took pity on him, adding, "You keeled over in the infirmary just after Colonel O'Neill regained consciousness. You've been lying here out cold for two days."

"Out cold?" Daniel didn't look very reassured.

"Figure of speech," Ross said. "You were sleeping the sleep of the just. Nothing more sinister than that. Pure delta with episodes of REM. Gave us a bit of a scare though, Colonel O'Neill not the least. His comments on our... medical acuity... once he'd fully come to, were creative to say the least. I think it's probably safe to say that he's more or less back to his usual abrasive self."

Daniel half-grinned apologetically as Ross smiled back widely at him. "The 'feeling like shit' thing will wear off pretty soon - your bag's only got a couple more minutes to go from the look of it and I'll take the IV out for you. Then, I'm afraid, another set of labs."

"I feel okay." Daniel went to stretch and stopped himself as the IV dragged. "Better than I did, anyway," he qualified.

"Yeah, sleep and well balanced electrolytes will do that for a guy," Ross said drily. "You should try and make them a habit."

"Paraphrasing Janet again?"

"Not entirely," Ross said with a smile. "In this case, I happen to agree with her prescription. I have a couple of recommendations of my own too."

Daniel studied him warily. "Which are?"

Ross was unfazed. "Neither official nor compulsory, but I think they'd help. Some simple strategies to help deal with the stress you guys are always under. A sympathetic ear if you need one. Just simple, everyday stuff. No rainbow water, I promise."

Daniel chuckled. "Okay. I'll bear that in mind."

Ross grinned amiably at him. "That better not be the brush off it sounded like."

Daniel grinned ruefully back. "No. It isn't. I'll drop by and see you."

Ross surged to his feet, stuck out his hand and Daniel shook it.

"Deal. On that understanding, you're sprung as soon as the labs are done. No sense in molly coddling you." The IV came out as he was speaking, then Ross motioned for the nurse to draw the blood. "I've cleared it with Doctor Fraiser." A strap tightened around Daniel's arm and a needle slid into his vein. "Right, that's that. Get them straight to the lab please, nurse. Daniel, go, shower, shave, get dressed and get out of here."

*

It wasn't as easy to get up and get going as Daniel had thought it would be. He made it to the showers and luxuriated in the feeling of getting really, really clean but found the effort left him feeling more lethargic rather than less. He'd managed to get back to his bed and get dressed in the clean clothes left in the bedside locker for him before his energy ebbed too far and now he was sitting on the bed, feeling yet again like a piece of human flotsam. He'd hoped Jack would be here waiting for him, debriefing over and done with, but it seemed as if he was going to have to wait a bit longer. As he was considering phoning for a car to take him home, a familiar head popped around the door of his room, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey."

"Jack." He'd really rather have been hugging the shit out of him but, mindful of the cameras, Daniel settled for a beaming smile, equal parts relief and affection.

"Fraiser told me you were back with us again. How ya doin'?"

"Uh, good, actually. Considering. You?"

"Okay, yeah. Considering."

They traded sharp glances as they each verified the other's level of honesty. Jack jerked his chin at Daniel.

"Nice shiner you've got going there, you been boxing?"

"Har. Funny guy," Daniel said with mock disgust.

Jack's grin turned a little sheepish as he sidled around the edge of the door, hands stuck in his pockets. "Uh, about that --"

"You were --"

"Outta my gourd," Jack finished. "Yeah." He crossed to the bed and perched on the edge next to Daniel. "Sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I was --"

"Debriefing with Hammond. I heard. Did it go okay?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess. Good enough for Hammond to spring for returning me to active duty anyway, after a week's downtime. Of which five days are left. Could've had longer, but I've been lazing around for long enough. It's time to get back into action again. Teal'c and Carter are getting recalled. As soon as you're up on your feet again, we're good to go."

"Climbing back on the horse again, huh?"

"Same page, eh?" Jack said softly, his lips quirking in a pleased smile. His voice was laced with satisfaction. But there was something more there too, Daniel thought, some undercurrent that he couldn't quite name. A brittle quality that he'd never heard in Jack's voice before.

He had another bright flash of understanding. Jack wanted to talk. Needed to say some things that he couldn't say to Hammond and wanted to say them on neutral ground. Wanted to reassure him, needed Daniel as a sounding board. So Daniel obliged. Besides, he was curious.

"How much do you remember about it?"

Jack's face creased into a thoughtful expression. "Honestly? Not that much any more. It's all getting kinda... fuzzy around the edges. Fading, somehow. Like a bad dream." He grinned suddenly. "Yeah, yeah, before you criticise my use of metaphor, I know – cliché heaven."

He sobered up again as Daniel waited for him to continue. "It's the emotions I remember mostly. Being off-balance, and helpless. Not knowing what was expected of me and being so shit scared the whole time. Scared enough, once or twice, to piss myself..." His voice tailed off and his eyes closed briefly as he shivered. Daniel laid a hand on his arm and rubbed fleetingly, then pressed with his fingers against the hard muscle there. Nearly as hard, now, as before they'd started the mission.

"Even that wasn't necessarily a bad thing," he said quietly. "Maybe the fact that you did retain a strong emotion helped you resist the drug's effects in the end, stopped you from being totally broken before we found you." At Jack's sideways look, he added, "What? I'm just saying it's a possibility, that's all."

"I guess." Jack was silent for a moment longer before visibly pulling himself back to the here and now to say briskly, "Anyhow, even that's fading, so there's something to be said for a friendly mind-fuck after all. But the actual events? I remember next to nothing. Only what I've been told since I got back here."

"So you have no idea why you were taken?"

Jack shrugged. "If I was ever told, I've forgotten. Side effect of all the drugs that've been pumped into me over the last few weeks, the docs reckon."

"Doesn't it bother you, though? The not knowing?"

Jack gave the question the briefest of consideration. "No." And then thought about it some more while Daniel waited. "Yes, a little. 'No' because it's essentially pointless to dwell on it: we're never going to know, unless I remember something, and I'm not too sure I really want to remember most of it. What I do remember is bad enough." His shoulders hunched in another quick, involuntary shiver as he spoke, but he continued readily, "It only bothers me that I don't know whether or not I made a mistake. If I did, and it gets repeated, that might have implications for other missions. But I guess we'll never know, 'cause I sure as hell ain't going back there to try and find out."

Daniel's mouth twisted in a small sardonic grin before he said drily, "That's not exactly at the top of my 'to do' list either, believe me – one return trip was more than enough."

"Yeah, I gather from Hammond it wasn't the happiest of experiences all round. More from what he didn't say than what he did, you know?" Jack glanced sharply at him and Daniel did his level best to keep his expression neutral. He really wasn't prepared to delve into his own personal can of worms right now, not until he'd gotten it straight in his own head. It would keep.

And apparently he was successful, as Jack's next question went off at a tangent.

"You still look pretty wiped to me. You sure you're good to go?"

"Ross reckons so. He discharged me on Janet's authority with the usual provisos - some downtime, more rest, a proper diet, same old."

Jack nodded. "Ross, yeah. Good guy." Jack looked momentarily embarrassed, staring down at his hands lying loosely clasped in his lap. "He came to see me while you were doing the Sleeping Beauty thing."

"And?"

"He's a Leafs fan. I'm trying to get him to see the error of his ways. I like him though. He talks sense. Leaving aside all the hippy-trippy shit, of course."

Daniel nodded slowly, lips curling in amusement, but made no other comment. Jack looked up at him from underneath his brows.

"I have been told exactly what you did, back at the cells."

Damn it, he might have known that Jack wouldn't just let it slide. Daniel really didn't want to get into this. Not here, not now. His mouth set into a thin line of disapproval as Jack put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, and waited for some response. Eventually, reluctantly, he obliged, with a grimace of distaste and a roll of his eyes.

"I bet I can just imagine how you've been told."

"Well, let's say it opened a few eyes. You had people's respect before, but you impressed the hell out of the jarheads this time."

Daniel snorted. "Pretty typical Marine mentality. You must be a real man if you can inflict enough pain to get your own way." He stopped, pursing his lips, thinking over what he wanted to say. "I'm not proud of what I did. I did it, and I stand by it – I would most likely do it again if I had to, if there was enough at stake. But I'm not proud of it." He shot Jack a penetrating look from under his brows. "Are you?"

"Well, I'm grateful, obviously, it was you that got me out of that hell-hole, but proud?" Jack paused for a long moment, picking his words carefully. "No, I don't think so, not entirely. Not of what you had to do, anyway. Worried about you, I think, sorry that you were ever put in that position. I know how far it goes against the grain--"

"Ah, but you see, that's part of the problem. It really didn't go against the grain. Not as much as I'd've hoped," Daniel added softly. "I shot that guy – killed him actually, and not quickly, not... cleanly – and I enjoyed it. It was a rush. It was power. I did it for all the wrong motives. Revenge, mainly. And anger. I'd already seen some of the poor bastards that were imprisoned in that place and I knew I couldn't help them all. And to be honest, I was scared shitless too – not just scared for you, scared for myself. I really didn't want to end up in one of their stinking cells. So for anyone to build the whole thing up into some kind of heroism," Daniel shrugged, "It just wasn't. That wasn't the motivation at all."

Jack said softly, "Welcome to my world, Daniel."

Daniel's head came up sharply at that, the ghost of a small frown on his face. "Yeah? You never give that impression in the field."

Jack's expression mirrored Daniel's. "Oh yeah. But you have to learn to let it go. That's the lesson you have to take from this. We all try and do the best that we can, and it mostly doesn't pay to examine the motives too carefully. The dark side gives us the edge, but sometimes control slips and it takes over, and that's just life. We all do things we'd rather not dwell on: the nature of the job we do makes our mistakes more... extreme than other people's and there's no getting away from that. You acted and because you did what you did, my life was saved. You did what you thought it took, and that takes backbone. I'm proud to be hooked up with a guy who has backbone."

"Isn't that a bit glib?"

"I'm a glib kind of a guy," Jack answered, but when Daniel's steady gaze threatened to morph into a frown, he drew a deep breath and asked, "Is it any more glib than seeking absolution? 'Cause I can't give you that, Daniel, no one can except you. Every choice has its downside. So you just let it go, or push it down deep, or a combination of both, and try and move on, 'cause dwelling on it is a one-way ticket to the funny farm." Jack shrugged. "I've got an idea what you're going through here and this works for me, is all I'm saying. Most times it works."

"But what else are you saying here? It's okay, the ends justify the means as long as you mean well, as long as it works and as long as you get away with it? Or don't fret over what you can't change, because what doesn't break you will make you stronger?"

"Either. Both. As I said, welcome to my world. But for what it's worth, I reckon you'll get through it okay. You're not that fragile."

The silence stretched thin before Jack abruptly reached a decision and straightened his shoulders, then punched Daniel lightly on the arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here, I've had enough of hanging around the base. You know, I haven't breathed fresh air, or even semi-fresh air come to that, for about three months? And hospital food? Oy!"

For a split second, Daniel hesitated, head bowed. But then he made his own decision, and let it go for now. Jack understood, and if – when - it came back to bite him, Jack would still be there to help him through it. As he would be for Jack. He raised his head and looked Jack squarely in the eye.

"Me either for the past few weeks. And base food? All tastes like chicken."

Jack grinned and relaxed as the longstanding joke sent its unspoken message.

"Even the chicken?"

Daniel smiled broadly again at last. "Oddly enough, that tastes like macaroni. How do they do that?"

"Beats me. Pizza?"

"You paying?"

"I'm paying. I've got a lot of unspent back pay to use up."

"So what are we waiting for? Besides, the quicker we get fed, the quicker we get home."

"'Home' sounds good to me." Jack pushed himself off from the bed with a wide smile. "C'mon, let's go."


END




I have a lot of people to thank for help with this one: Joy, Gary and Jen for betaing the final version and pushing me to make it shorter and therefore better. Carron and Shazz for betaing early unfinished versions, probably so long ago now that they've forgotten all about it. Jen, Eos, Rowan, Irene, Angie and Jillie (from AG days these last four) for help with medical details, Rowan and Irene for military procedures, ditto on the ages ago and forgetting thing. Jillie's wonderful brother, Mark, pharmacist extraordinaire, for having the patience to answer my questions and not actually reporting me to the police as a potential murderer *g*

As always, any and all remaining mistakes are due solely to my own bull-headedness.

Comments

[teand.livejournal.com]

That was Jack and Daniel like I remember them; the way I WANT to remember them. Well, except for specifically flat on their respective asses in the infirmary but that's certainly canon so... *g*

I can't BELIEVE that Janet and Hammond would want MacKenzie brought in after what the narrow-minded little shit did to Daniel! But I liked what I saw of Ross.

And I love that the Jack and Daniel is more important than the J/D because that is, after all, what the sexin' is based on.

So, uh, then what happens?

[catspaw-sgjd.livejournal.com]

Thank you :-) And bless you for liking Ross, OCs are always a bit of a toss-up.

So, uh, then what happens?

After the pizza? The sexin' I guess *g*

[princessofg.livejournal.com]

thank you so much for posting this. it's a real page turner! eerily plausible -- just the kind of things that could go wrong on missions.

my favorite part was jack trying to get to know himself, judging his own reactions, and of course the hot flashbacks.

thank you so much.

[catspaw-sgjd.livejournal.com]

A page turner? Hee, thanks :-) I'm very happy you enjoyed it, thanks for commenting. And ssshhh, don't tell a soul - but the Jack parts were my favourites too *g*

[msbeata.livejournal.com]

**lays you down and kisses you deeply**

When you put out, it's goooood baby.

I like the look inside Jack's head and the way he progresses as little pieces fall back into place.

The beginning with it being Daniel rescuing Jack was a nice twist and set up the story nicely.

I have to admit, I liked Jack's struggle in the infirmary when he put Janet on her ass. *g*

And Daniel passing out just as Jack was coming to - evil.

I'm looking forward to more fic (and groping).

[catspaw-sgjd.livejournal.com]

Hee (may the groping never end)!

Thank you, MsB darling, for reading and commenting and *enjoying* :-D

::kisses you back::

::comes back for seconds::