DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).
He was moving.
Unfortunately, so was everything else.
Shadows above him swirled, rippling into bizarre shapes. Hard things below scraped and scratched at him. Noises gibbered and howled, pushing in from all directions.
He was being dragged.
By what?
He couldn't tell. He tried to look above him, but stars and spots filled his vision. The wracking pain that resulted from the movement stole his breath.
shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit
He tried to breathe. The spikes being driven through his head dulled after an eternity. Okay, so moving was out of the question. He was at the mercy of whatever was dragging him along. The thought filled him with fear. Helplessness that burned in him, fighting with the pain. The need to move, to get control, was almost more than the pain that forced him to stay as still as possible.
He tried to focus his brain instead. Questions, so many questions. Where the hell was he? What was dragging him around? What were the nightmare shapes looming around and above him?
It was all too much. Nothing made any sense.
So he closed his eyes again.
He'd think about it later. Soon. He just needed to close his eyes. It would look better in the morning...
Only an hour later, Daniel sat shivering in the darkness wishing one more time--just for good measure--he could light a fire. Unfortunately, until he was sure the Jaffa were gone, he just couldn't risk it. They were pretty exposed as it was. The best shelter he could find them was a rock outcropping tucked only slightly in out of the wind. He had settled Jack in as best he could and run the standard checks for injury. The good news was the blow to his head seemed to be the worst. He was breathing fine, nothing broken that Daniel could feel, nothing rigid or distended. The bad news was Jack hadn't stirred during the entire process, making him worry there might be more hidden damage than the fairly obvious concussion.
The other bad news was that after the sun went down, the temperature had dropped significantly. Added to a healthy wind chasing down the edge of the hillside they were huddling against, it was fairly miserable by now. On the other hand, at least it had decided not to rain. Rain would have been the perfect addition to his night. A cliché, true, but apropos nonetheless.
Fortunately, whatever gods of irony and bad luck had been ruling his life lately, rain wasn't in their plan for the day. Now all he had to do was wait for Jack to wake up and take over their little situation. He'd done his part and soon Jack would be back to do his part.
"Ugghhh..."
It was more of a vibration in his leg than a noise. Jack. Stretched out beside him, long legs pressed up against Daniel's legs, his face was tucked into Daniel's hip so he could keep constant pressure on the bleeding cut on the back of Jack's head. He was covered from the cold wind by Daniel's jacket and from the cold ground by Jack's own jacket underneath him. Not that Daniel thought either was doing much good. But all he had to work with was what they had been carrying.
Daniel moved his hand away in response to the new activity--noting the lessened bleeding--and shifted around to get a good look at him. At the release of pressure, Jack stirred again, moving his head to a more comfortable position. Well, as comfortable as he could get with his vest balled up as a pillow. While it served as good elevation, that thing had to be doing nothing in the comfort area. His eyes struggled to open.
"Finally." As much as he'd been worried about Jack's health, he was just as glad at having the company again. He'd gotten awfully used to having someone around to share a crisis with.
Jack made another inarticulate noise, his eyes pinching up in pain. Daniel winced sympathetically. 'Oh yeah, the headache he's gonna have from that knock.' They'd all had personal experience with that particular symptom way too many times in the last three years. SG-1 was not good for your head's health, with or without those stupid helmets.
His eyes still closed, Jack fumbled one hand up to blindly feel around on his head. Daniel grabbed it and carefully pushed it away from the injury. Another groan. He moved his hand to press down against Jack's forehead, pinning him to the ground.
"Don't move."
Jack moved anyway. 'Of course he did. Since when does Jack listen to orders?'
'About as often as you do.'
Daniel pressed harder. "Don't move," he repeated.
Jack did as he was told this time, making Daniel both relieved and nervous. It was a fair indication of how bad he was feeling that there wasn't more resistance. Daniel almost didn't know what to do with a cooperative Jack.
Satisfied he wasn't going to do anything stupid immediately, Daniel released Jack's forehead and refolded his improvised bandanna bandage to find a clean spot. Then he stuck his hand back under Jack's head, forming a perfect headrest while Jack lay blinking blearily at the night sky.
The clouds had cleared and the sky had gone completely dark by now, giving them both a perfect view of what Daniel considered the Milky Way. This planet, not being lodged in the outer rims like Earth, had a spectacular, almost-opaque band of stars across the sky. Jack had been admiring it for the last three days, wishing for his telescope. Daniel was too focused on getting what he could from the temple in his short time here to worry about what the sky looked like.
Besides, he'd gotten used to unfamiliar skies.
It was such a strange thing, to be so used to looking up at an alien sky at night. Not to be surprised to find no moon, or three or four of them instead. Not to be surprised by nebulas and twin planets and strange galaxies littering the sky. Not to automatically look for familiar constellations. To make new ones. Jack had already christened the Great Hockey Stick constellation two days ago. Daniel added The Sphinx just above the horizon to the north. Sam's contribution had been The Giant Coffee Pot directly above that.
What a bizarre point in his life to have reached. To be sitting under the Great Hockey Stick constellation, who-knew-how-many light-years from home, waiting out enemy Jaffa while holding his friend's bleeding head in his hands and to not even be overly worried.
He was concerned, of course. But not any more so than what had become the background hum of his life in the last two years. Maybe it was the lull after his adrenaline rush earlier. Maybe it was that Jack would be taking things over soon. Maybe it was that Teal'c would be back soon. Maybe it was just that he'd been desensitized to a certain level of danger after all this time.
Which, though, probably wasn't much sign of a healthy lifestyle, either.
Movement in his hand. It pulled his attention back down from the sky. Jack was stirring, batting irritatedly at the pressure on his injury. Good--signs of Normal Jack.
Normal being a relative term.
"Hey. How do you feel?"
Jack grunted.
"Ah."
"...wha...?"
"You fell down that hill." Daniel nodded tiredly up behind them, not caring that Jack wasn't looking and couldn't see it in the darkness anyway. "The gliders are gone, although I'm not sure if that means they're gone gone or still lurking around here somewhere. We've got," he checked his watch, "just over four hours until Teal'c is due back. We can just lay low here until then. He'll see something's wrong and come looking. And we both know he should have no trouble finding us."
Silence. Daniel looked down at Jack, who was staring at him like he'd grown a third eye. "Huh?" was the only response he got to his rundown of their situation.
So much for Jack taking over.
"Never mind. I've got it all under control."
"Oh." Jack seemed to think about it. "Okay."
And he closed his eyes again, leaving it all in Daniel's hands. Which, frankly, worried Daniel more than anything else did.
"Jack?"
Jack swatted at the offending noise.
"Jack?"
This time, it was accompanied by movement. Poking at his shoulder. Something hit his face. He swiped at it again.
"Jack."
More forceful this time, firm and demanding. It made his head pound, his eyes hurt. Hell, his hair hurt at this point. And who was the banshee screaming at him?
"Shuttup."
"No."
The voice was urgent now, and hands pulled him into a sitting position. Jack forced his eyes open, momentarily confused by the blackness that greeted him. He blinked a couple of times. The space in front of him melded into a form--less-dark-against-blackness. Two more blinks and the form coalesced into a body.
It was speaking to him, looking around worriedly. He tried to make out the words formed by those lips, but they were jumbled. What had happened to that thing's mouth? It didn't work right.
He shook his head. Screwed his eyes up. God, his head hurt. Felt like it was going to explode.
"--'mon, we have got to go."
Daniel. Why hadn't he recognized him? Why was everything so confused? And what the hell did he want in the middle of the night?
Daniel was trying to make him stand up. Why? Jack tried to help. He pushed his legs under him, trying to force some strength into them. But they felt thick and heavy, like syrup. Maple syrup, flowing out of the bottle that was shaped like a woman with an apron and a bun and...
What woman?
They started moving, but Jack couldn't feel his legs working. He peered down at them owlishly, mesmerized by the way they moved--forward and back, one in front of the other, of their own volition. It was hypnotic. Like watching the waves go up and back. Up and back. Up and back....
Better be careful or you'll be quacking like a chicken soon.
He laughed at his own joke.
"Be quiet and stay still."
Who was Daniel talking to?
Something was pressing into his back. Sharp and hard. He moved one hand back to push on it. A rock. A big rock digging into the small of his back. At least, he assumed it was his back. Everything was all jumbled and out of order. He could swear his arms felt longer than his legs and his feet weren't touching the ground.
He realized Daniel was holding him vertical between the rock and a hand pressed almost painfully against his chest, looking around anxiously. The part of Jack's brain that still seemed to be working got worried.
"...wha's wrong?"
Daniel looked back at him, forehead pinched up in little lines. Pain, worry, anger? Jack couldn't tell in the darkness. "Jaffa," Daniel whispered. "Are you with me now?"
Jack nodded once. Of course he was with him. Stupid question. Where else would he be? Even when he wasn't with that guy, wasn't he always with him?
Daniel just stared at him, looking deep into his eyes.
"Stoppit. Ya look like y'r gonna propose."
Daniel laughed a small, throaty laugh, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. Jack didn't know what he said that was so funny. He supposed he'd never get Daniel's sense of humor.
With one more look around--for what?--Daniel turned back to Jack and started pulling his arm around his shoulder. "Okay, I think we should keep going. Work our way back towards the Gate. We'll either be closer when help arrives or we'll be able to Gate home. And maybe we can find somewhere to get out of the weather."
Jack tried to concentrate on moving his feet in time with Daniel's shuffling steps. He could go for that last idea. Stopping sounded good. Sleep sounded better. Maybe he could find a fork or something to stab at the back of his skull with. Anything had to be better than this...