Author's Notes: I was the willing victim? I thought you were! *grin* It's been fun! Thanks Jmas. -- PHO
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).
Part 2 - Daniel [by PHO]
"Nothing, it's not important..."
He's looking at me ... again. I can feel his eyes. He knows I'm lying. He always knows.
"Daniel?"
Quick. Think of something. Anything. What am I holding? Oh. I've drained the cup dry. I am, was so thirsty. "Uh, more water?"
"Sure." I hear the disappointment in his voice. Are his hands shaking as they take the cup? No. Those are my hands. Trembling, unable to grip … anything. Jack's back. He holds out the cup … again. Maybe I can hold it without his help. Okay. I can do this. He doesn't have to help me. Oh shit! I dropped it. It's cold, so very, very cold.
"Jeez, Daniel, what were you thinking?"
Jack runs away from me. Well, why shouldn't he run? After what I did. God, they almost died. I almost killed them. What was I thinking? Why, why did I listen to her? Why did I climb back into that thing, again, and again? I know why. It felt so, so good, so safe. Warm, inviting, relaxing, loving. Loving? How could it be loving? It's not alive.
He's back? With towels? Oh, to clean up the water.
"Daniel, let's get you out of that wet top."
I'm not a baby. He doesn't have to help me. I push his hands away, and try not to see the hurt in his eyes. I've hurt him, them, so very, very badly. I feel the tears in my eyes. I can't work the buttons. My hands are shaking too badly. "Jack? H..Help?"
"Sure thing, buddy."
I stare at the wall behind him as he undoes the buttons, and takes the initiative to remove my shirt. He hands me a small towel, and a dry top. Okay. I can do the towel. Get dry. I can put on the shirt. Not sure about the buttons though. "Jack?"
"I got'em, Daniel."
Why does he even bother? I'm not gonna say anything else. What can I say? I'm sorry? It wouldn't be enough, even if he believed me. And why should he believe anything I say?
"How about trying to get some more sleep, Daniel?"
Does that need an answer? Stupid. Of course it does. "Okay." Simple. To the point. Can't be anything wrong with 'okay', can there? I'm so tired. He's moved closer … to help me lie down. Why can't I do this alone? I forget. I'm so tired. The pillow feels so soft, so soft. I can't hold my eyes open any longer. The darkness returns, but … I can feel his eyes.