DISCLAIMER: All 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 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.
The journey of fifteen feet to the stairwell might as well have been fifteen miles. The cellar floor was rough enough for the pair to traverse, but climbing the stairs bordered on nightmare. O'Neill was shaking uncontrollably by the time Daniel got him positioned halfway up the stairs. Beads of sweat rolled down the injured man's face, and the lines of pain, already prominent in his features, stood out even more against the ghost-white skin. Daniel settled him quickly, staying by his side only long enough to ensure his friend would not lose consciousness and slide down the steps. Once satisfied that Jack was secure, the young scientist rushed recklessly down the steps, hurriedly retrieving their packs and weapons then making sure the fire was out. He shuddered as he took one last look at the dead creatures before returning to the stairwell. Dropping their supplies on the step below his friend, Daniel turned his attention to the problem of the doors.
The bottom door closed easily enough, and in an uncharacteristic bit of luck, he discovered a slide-bolt on the door itself. He breathed a delighted sigh of relief as he realized that the little bit of metal still worked. Nothing would come through the cellar door, at least not easily.
The odd entrance to the stairwell from above proved to be even easier. Whatever had been causing the unusual door to stick, appeared to have vanished. Daniel could only guess that forcing the lid aside with the pry bar had 'fixed' it, though he had no clue why or how. He easily slid it shut, then frowned, aware that he had no way to secure this door. Movement from below pulled his attention away from the door and he hurried back down the stairs.
Daniel sank down next to Jack and studied the older man closely. His color was pale, much too pale, and his breathing was slightly labored. Jack's eyes were screwed tightly shut as he shifted slightly, obviously searching for a more comfortable position. The sling on his shoulder was still tight, holding his arm motionless against his chest. Daniel turned his visual survey to Jack's injured leg. The boards strapped tightly on either side of the broken limb also appeared to have stay miraculously in place. Nodding in satisfaction, he looked up, only to find himself the recipient of scrutiny. Blushing slightly under the intense scrutiny of deep brown eyes, he spoke softly. "The cellar door's secure and the top door is closed. There's not a lot left that I can do in that department."
"Daniel..."
"I've got our supplies in here so we should ..."
"Daniel..."
"Jack?"
"When dawn comes, you have to leave."
"I know. You already said that, but I don't see how ... what do you mean I have to leave?"
Jack's lips bore a faint semblance of a smile. "I was kidding myself. There's no way I can get to the gate without help."
"Jack!"
The SG-1 commander held up his good hand for silence, and for once the younger man complied. "Sam and Teal'c are overdue. You know that. I know that. Our little venture just now showed me that I won't be going anywhere." Jack gasped in pain, all communication ceasing for a moment.
Daniel put a hand gently on his good shoulder. "Jack, please. You need to stay quiet. I've been thinking..."
"What else is new?"
"Uh, right. Well, we're long overdue at the SGC. I'm sure the general's already sent through a search and rescue team. We'll just stay here until they find us."
"Danny, they'll go north. Toward the UAV."
"Oh. North. I forgot. Damn."
"Use the radio."
Daniel shook his head. "Yours is smashed, and mine stopped working for some reason as I was calling Sam. I barely got the message out before it died completely."
The colonel sighed heavily. "First light, Daniel."
"Jack, I can't leave you like this."
"No choice."
"Jack..."
The older man smiled and tiredly reached out to take the hand on his shoulder in his own. Squeezing it weakly, he spoke softly. "Daniel..."
The heat in his friend's palm startled and dismayed the young archaeologist. Fever. He should have known that sooner or later, Jack would develop a fever. Infection. Oh God. Blue eyes locked on brown as the younger man silently acknowledged the truth. Jack was seriously ill, and Daniel really had no choice. If his friend was to survive this, this stupid trek to the south, he'd have to abandon him. Tears filled his eyes as he nodded a silent consent to Jack's wishes.
"Not abandoning, Danny." Jack's voice was weak but firm. "Just following orders ... for a change."
Vraxas watched with pleasure as Tiamon's consciousness faded. Kneeling by the still form, he checked the man's pulse. Weak and thready. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. Rising quickly, he yanked hard on the bell pull, summoning his servants. The houseman arrived only moments later, and froze, staring in shock at the body on the floor.
"Tiamon has been taken ill. Summon the healer, and send two servants to move him to the chaise. And get me a blanket. Tiamon should not get chilled."
Wordlessly, the frightened man fled to do his employer's bidding. Vraxas knelt once more by the soldier. "Poor, predictable, honorable Tiamon. You've been a thorn in my side for much too long. I would prefer to kill you outright, but considering our past ... discussions ... that just isn't possible. But an illness. Well, there's no reason that your current condition can't be blamed on the prisoners as well. Yes, that will work well. A virus as deadly as the Redcaps themselves. Another ill to blame on the Goa'uld."
Teal'c was relieved when Sam finally gave up her endless pacing, and sank wearily onto the other sleeping mat. He watched silently as her eyes lost their battle to stay open. His vigilance increased as her breathing evened out, proving she was, at last, asleep. He was deeply concerned for her safety. His tattoo convicted him of more than just a casual acquaintance with Apophis, but he was hopeful that he would be able to distance himself from her. That he could plead guilty to charges of Goa'uld allegiance and still prove her innocence, hopefully freeing her to be able to go to the aide of O'Neill, and Daniel Jackson.
"Daniel?"
"What... Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"S'okay, Daniel. You needed the rest. I haven't heard anything in a while."
Daniel listened closely. While the screams of the creatures had come in random spurts, they were spaced closely together. "It must be dawn."
"Ya think?"
The younger man winced as he stood up, attracting the attention of his friend. "Daniel? What's wrong?"
Ignoring the pain emanating from the long tear on his back, Daniel grinned, and stretched. "Stiff muscles, Jack. Been sitting awhile." Before Jack could respond, Daniel moved down the stairs, and cautiously opened the door. "The sun's not quite up, Jack, but it's damn close. I..I better get moving, but first I'm giving you a shot of morphine. You're long overdue."
Jack shook his head. "I don't need it."
"Liar. With that arm, you won't be able to give yourself one later, so I'm gonna do it now."
"Daniel."
"Or I'm not going."
Brown eyes bored into blue, and found them resolute. Nodding reluctantly Jack sighed. "You're a stubborn man, Dr. Jackson."
Daniel hastily prepared the syringe. "I learned from the best, Colonel O'Neill."