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Part 6 - Jack [by PHO]
He's sleeping again, but he still doesn't look good. Even in sleep, the lines of pain are obvious to anyone who'll bother to look.
God, this is what? The fourth day, or is it night? A quick glance into the hall proves it to be daytime; the halls are too busy for a night watch.
A soft moan from behind me warns me that the bad stuff is starting once more. His brow is creased with pain, and he's starting to thrash around on the bed as I rush to get back to his side. Is this nightmare or withdrawal? Jesus, Jack, what the hell's the difference when it causes … this.
I'm on my knees beside him now, washing his face down with the warm water that's seemed to provide some comfort over the past few days. His face contorts suddenly, and his eyes shoot open, wide with panic … and pain.
"Easy, Daniel. I'm here." I wish I could tell him that it's all right, but I can't. I know what's to follow.
His hands fist in the bedclothes as he arches soundlessly off the bed. He's lucid enough this time to fight the screams, to try to maintain at least some dignity in this, this mess.
"Let it out, Daniel. It's just you and me. Just let it go." Blue eyes, filled to overflowing with tears, meet mine, begging for a moment of release. But there's nothing I can do, except cradle his too-thin body in my arms again. When was the last time he really ate? I can't remember. Gotta ask Janet … but no needles. No way in hell is he gonna add needles to this.
His body seizes violently and I find myself struggling to maintain my grip. I'm gonna kill that little bitch. She knew. You can't tell me she didn't.
Whoa! Only three seizures this time. That's one for the books. He collapses wearily against my chest, and I find myself automatically pushing his too-long hair out of his eyes. Really gotta talk to him about a more appropriate haircut.
I ease him back on the bed, stroking his hair as I position his head on the pillow. His eyes meet mine once more, this time in silent gratitude. He looks exhausted. Well, why the hell not. He hasn't had more than a few hours rest in the last week. And those rest periods have been broken by a pain so intense that, for a time, I was afraid he'd go truly mad, or die.
I'm smiling at him now, hoping that I'm being reassuring. That's a laugh. Me, Colonel Mom. Jeez. But it's working. His eyes are still open, but his body is starting to relax, just a bit.
He's sleeping again, more peacefully this time. A slight noise from the doorway tells me that I'm not alone, and I turn to see … General Hammond. I don't like the look on his face. Is that regret, mixed with contempt? Surely not. Hammond wouldn't condemn… Yes, yes he would. He's never dealt with this sort of thing before, at least not personally. He can't possibly understand. Maybe if I ignore him…
"Colonel O'Neill?"
Oh shit! "Yes, sir?"
"I'd like to see you privately for a moment." Hammond frowns as Daniel moves restlessly on the bed. "If you can leave…"