Despair, Stargate SG1, Rish
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Title: Despair
Characters: Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, Janet Frasier
Word Count: ~5300
Rating: Rish (for suicidal thoughts/actions)
Summary: Daniel's on a dark journey, lonliness and despair working into him until he sees no way out
A/Ns & Warnings: As with most things these days, this fic is
badfalcon's fault. It began when she asked me if I had losed a suicidally depressed Daniel. I hadn't...but I suddenly found myself with one. WARNINGS: Daniel is suicidal, Daniel attempts suicide. If this is triggory for you, please don't read it.
"You three can go. Daniel, hold up a minute." Dr. Frasier closed a chart and crossed to where Daniel was sitting on the exam table, lifting her hands to feel his neck again. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, shaking his head a little. "I feel fine, why?"
"Well, your white blood cell counts were a little elevated. I want to take a little more blood for testing."
"I'm sure it's nothing." Daniel said, his mind racing over all of the work he had stacked on his desk.
"It will only take a minute. Better safe than sorry." She held out her hand for the tourniquet and needle, offering him a smile before she drew the blood. She passed it off and pressed gauze against the bleeding hole in his arm, taping it down before stripping off her gloves and patting his knee. "All set. I'll let you know if our tests turn up anything."
"I'll be buried under the landslide of cataloguing in my office." Daniel replied, slipping off the bed and grabbing his jacket on the way out the door.
Sam was leaning against his office door as he walked up, and she smiled. "What was that about?"
Daniel shook his head and opened the door, turning on the light and almost wishing he hadn't. "White blood cell count was up."
"I hope you're not getting sick." Sam said, following him into the cramped office space.
"It's probably just stress. They keep promising me an assistant to help with all of this cataloguing but no one ever comes…the artifacts don't stop though…and the translation on that text from SG-3's last mission…and the translation of that ancient tablet…."
Sam made a face and held up both hands. "I'll get out of your hair then."
"Oh, hey…we still on for Sunday?"
She stopped in the door way, her face scrunching up like she had forgotten. "Ah…yeah. Can we move it to noon? I've got a thing…"
"Yeah, noon is fine." Daniel said, looking around him and trying to figure out where, exactly, to start.
He didn't even notice when Sam left, as he sorted through various items from recent offworld expeditions. He slipped easily into the old comfortable routine of cataloguing and tagging, finding the box of artifacts he'd been sorting from P3X-6D9. He'd barely gotten started before Jack had come to get him for their last mission. He shifted his chair closer to the table and spread out a soft cloth over the surface of the table before he started carefully pulling the items out of the box and setting them out in front of him.
No one ever helps.
He leaned back for his bag, taking out his notebook and camera, tags and a pen. Then remembered the voice recorder and got up to go get it from the desk. "P3X-6D9, a box of what looks to be early Phoenician artifacts judging by the design and artistic flavor, though Dr. Ilven has stated that the writing bears a closer resemblance to Sumerian. At first glance, I would agree." He set the voice recorder aside and picked up a small, round object that looked like it might have been a piece of jewelry, though the red and blue enamel was cracked and broken in places.
Several hours later, Daniel looked up, bleary eyed and rubbing his forehead. He glanced around, reaching toward his desk for his coffee mug. He knew better than to pull an all nighter, but he needed another few hours to work through the fascinating history the artifacts were telling him.
He grabbed his thermos as well and headed off to the mess hall. The corridors were quiet and he realized it was probably later than he had first assumed.
Why is it I'm always the last one here?
Daniel frowned at the thought. It wasn't true. Sam often worked as late as he did, sometimes later. Jack, on the other hand…He shook his head. Jack didn't need to hang around the base. His job was out in the field. When they were home Jack was not in his element.
Why am I making excuses, it's not like he makes them for me.
Daniel sighed as he let himself into the mess hall, crossing to the coffee that seemed to always be hot and ready for those who pulled in the long hours.
"Daniel Jackson, I did not realize you were still here."
Daniel looked up at Teal'c, frowning a little as he realized his eyes hurt and there was a low throb in his forehead. "Yeah, no…I have a lot of work to do."
"Why are you squinting?"
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've got a headache."
"Perhaps you should return to your home and sleep."
"I'm fine. What are you doing up at this hour?" Daniel capped his thermos and filled his mug, sipping at it.
"I desired a snack."
Daniel lifted an eyebrow at Teal'c's idea of a snack. "Just a little one I see."
Teal'c looked at him blankly and Daniel shook his head. "Well, I should get back to it."
He doesn't care.
Daniel frowned and shook his head, leaving Teal'c in the mess and heading back to his office. He sipped at his coffee as he ducked in, sighing again at the stacks of books and boxes and impractically crammed shelves. If he didn't know better, he would think someone had snuck inside while he was getting coffee and added to the mess.
Not like they haven't done it before.
He went back to his chair, setting the thermos aside and sipping at his cup as he looked over the remaining artifacts. He'd finish this box, then get some sleep.
"Hey, Daniel…" Sam came to a stop just inside the door of the office. The place was a mess, worse than when she'd been there the day before. "Daniel?"
She stepped around a pile of boxes to find Daniel hunched over a tablet, his pen in one hand hovering over his notebook, his eyes glazed over, his other hand clutching the back of his neck. "Daniel?" Sam was almost convinced he was sleeping with his eyes open. She reached out a hand to touch him and he inhaled slowly, turning red eyes up to her.
"Hey, have you been at it all night?"
He looked around them, blinking slowly. "What time is it?" His speech was sluggish and his breathing sounded tight.
"Almost nine am." Sam responded. "You don't look so good."
He grimaced and licked his lips with what looked like a dry tongue. "Headdache." He reached for his coffee cup, but it was empty.
"I don't think you need more coffee. I think you need sleep." Sam said, pulling the also empty thermos away from him.
"I'm fine. Almost…." He shook his head and stood slowly. "Whoa." He grabbed the table to keep from falling down. "Maybe a little nap."
"Yeah, I think maybe." She slipped an arm under his and around his waist, letting him lean a little as they headed for the door. They were nearly to the elevator when he suddenly straightened up and pulled away.
"Damn." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
"You could say that." Sam chuckled a little as the elevator opened and Daniel followed her inside. "Colonel O'Neill wanted to know how that translation was coming, I think I'll tell him you're still working on it."
"Which one?" Daniel asked, his voice sounding heavy. "No, nevermind. I don't want to know." He slipped out of the elevator as soon as the doors open. "Tell him I'll get to it when I get to it."
Sam watched him go, holding his head and letting his other hand guide him down the corridor. She followed a few paces back, concerned now that he might not actually get all the way to his quarters. Once he had and the door was closed, she exhaled and decided to check in with Janet.
She had to wait once she got down to the infirmary as Janet was just finishing up with a returning SG team, but when the last of them was cleared and on their way out, Janet smiled at her. "Sam, what brings you down here?"
She bit her lip and shrugged, both hands in her pockets. "Daniel."
"Oh?" Janet put down the chart in her hand. "Is something wrong?"
"You tell me. He said you told him his white blood cell was high?"
Janet's face said it wasn't much of a concern even before her words. "A little. Every test was fine, he's probably just fighting off a cold or something. Why?"
Sam frowned and shrugged again. "He's…I don't know. I can't put my finger on it."
"Okay, but something's got you worried."
"I just found him in his office, almost buried under books and boxes and he was just staring blindly at this tablet…he didn't even hear me come in."
Janet smiled. "That sounds an awful lot like Daniel."
Sam shook her head. "You didn't see him. It wasn't like…Daniel."
"Well, he mentioned that he hasn't been sleeping well, and it sounds like he pulled another all nighter. How about I go check on him?"
She was probably right. It was probably nothing. She sighed. "No, he's probably okay. He just went to his quarters to get some sleep."
Janet nodded. "Okay, well, I'll check up in him later."
"Okay, good. That makes me feel better." Sam left the infirmary and headed for her own lab. Like Daniel, she had a backlog of work to get to.
"Daniel?"
He was aware of the voice, but it seemed distant, until a hand touched his shoulder. Daniel blinked and looked up, half surprised to realize he was in the briefing room and Jack was looking at him like he was annoyed. Again.
Not like Jack's ever not annoyed with me.
"What? Sorry. I'm not sleeping well."
"Or at all." Jack argued. "Carter told me she found you in your office this morning, that you never went home."
"I was working." Daniel countered, stretching. His body ached all over as if he'd run a marathon and finished it with a good beating. "Unlike you, my job doesn't end when we get back to the base."
Jack raised an eyebrow, but Daniel just stood, sighing heavily. "Is that all? I've got work to do." He rubbed at the spot between his eyes that just seemed to ache perpetually.
"Daniel, I think maybe you should go home, get some sleep."
He doesn't think I can handle it.
"I will. After I finish--"
"No. Now."
He knows I can't do it. He knows I'm a fuck up.
"Jack, I just need a little more time."
"Daniel, it can wait. Go get some sleep."
Daniel didn't look at him but nodded. "Yeah, okay. Fine." It isn't like he even understands what I do here. He couldn't deny he was tired. He couldn't remember the last time he actually slept. No time for sleep when everyone is relying on me. Why do they rely on me? I can't do anything right. He rubbed at his forehead and let his steps carry him, nearly running Janet over.
"Ah, just the man I was looking for." Janet said, though she frowned when she got a look at him. "Daniel, are you feeling all right?"
He grimaced and pulled away from her. "Headache."
She nodded and stepped in front of him when he would have pulled away. "Why don't you come down to my office, let me run a few more tests?"
"Don't you have enough of my blood already?" Daniel snapped, pushing past her. "I have work to do."
She got in front of him again, putting a hand on his chest. “I can make it an order.”
Daniel closed his eyes and pushed aside the angry response that bubbled inside him. “I’m fine,” he said again, though he was starting to wonder because his head was really starting to pound and his eyes hurt. The light in the corridor was too bright.
“I’m sure you are. Let me prove it.”
He didn’t argue as she took his arm and started them toward the elevator. I’m not sick. I’m tired. So fucking tired.
Janet steered him into the infirmary, and over to an exam bed, waving one of the nurses over to her.. “Let’s get his vitals and run a standard blood panel.”
You won’t find anything. I’m what’s wrong.
“Daniel?”
His thoughts were sluggish, realizing Janet had been talking to him. “Yeah.”
“Are you listening to me?”
He blinked and tried to remember what she’d said. “Yeah.”
She looked concerned. “I want you to sleep. I’m running your blood work, but your temperature is slightly elevated and your blood pressure is low.”
He nodded slowly though her words seemed strange. “I have Nancy setting up a room for you.”
“No.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I can just go to my quarters.”
“Promise me you’ll sleep?”
I can’t even be trusted to do that.
Somehow he managed to get out of the room, with reassurances he would sleep and a bottle of pain medication for the headache. He stumbled back to his quarters, collapsing onto his bed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes as he curled up, his head swirling with memory, watching friends die over and over, innocents he couldn’t save, words he couldn’t translate, piling up at him.
Worthless.
Pretender.
Murderer.
The dark settled in around him, unnoticed.
They all know I’m nothing.
All around him artifacts sat, unboxed, untagged, barely touched.
They tolerate me for what I know.
The only light in the room was a sliver coming through the barely open door from the corridor, and he hid from it behind his desk, lacking the motivation to get up and close the door.
How much longer before they realize I don’t know anything?
Muscles ached and pain filled his joints, his head was heavy with faces of people he knew hated him. Tears slipped hot and thick from eyes he could barely keep open.
Not good enough. My whole life has been nothing but pretend.
The bottle of pills is on the floor, taunting him.
So easy, just go to sleep. How much more can I do? Who would even know? How long before they find me here in the dark?
Beside the bottle is a gun, and he isn’t sure how he got it, but it’s there, waiting for his hand to bring it to life.
So alone. Always alone.
It’s the knife he picks up...though he doesn’t remember doing so. The curved blade caresses the skin of his wrist, wicked and welcome.
So tired, just want to sleep.
"Good morning, Sir. Have you seen Daniel this morning?" Sam asked as she say Colonel O’Neill coming toward Daniel’s office door.
"No, I was coming to look for him."
The light was out and the door was mostly closed, usually an indication that Daniel hadn’t made it as far as his office yet."Did you walk out with him on Friday?"
"No, I came to see if he wanted to grab a beer, but his lights were already out. I figured Frasier sent him home."
Sam nodded. Janet had told Sam she was worried even though none of his tests showed anything really wrong. "She wanted him to stay here, but he wasn’t in his quarters. We were supposed to have lunch yesterday, but he never showed. Didn't answer his phone either."
"Well, that's not good." He scratched his head. “I’ll check with security, see when he went through them last.”
"I'll see if his bag is in his office." Sam slid a hand over the door, opening it slowly, letting her eyes sweep the gloom, before she reached for the light. The office was still in disarray, but a small motion drew her eye past the mess to a spot just behind the desk.
“Daniel?” She whispered the name, but in the stale silence of the room it seemed loud. She eased past a stack of boxes toward the desk, her eyes widening as she saw him.
Daniel sat on the floor, his face turned from her, a ceremonial dagger in his hand and pressed to the already bleeding skin of his wrist. “Oh...Daniel…” she breathed, inching closer. Sam glanced back at the door, wanting to call Jack back, but not wanting to startle Daniel. There were several scratches on his skin, like he’d been trying to make the cut but just hadn’t gone deep enough.
“Daniel, can you hear me?” He flinched when she reached to him, the knife moving up his arm. “Daniel, please stop.”
He blinked slowly, turning his face not quite to her. His eyes were bloodshot and red, sunken in skin that nearly looked bruised. Tears wet his cheeks. His mouth moved though there was no sound coming from him. “Can you give me the knife?” Sam asked, squatting slowly so they were on the same level.
“...not good enough…” Daniel’s voice was barely a whisper, the knife moving a little more forcefully. “...tired...alone…”
“Not alone, Daniel. I’m right here.” He didn’t respond and there was more blood now. She stood, and backed up to the phone on the wall near the door. She kept her voice calm as she called the infirmary, her eyes on Daniel. “Medical Emergency, Dr. Jackson’s office.”
Daniel’s head dropped forward, and Sam dropped the phone and dove toward him, instinctively knowing somehow that his cut this time was going to be bad. Blood spilled out at an alarming rate and Daniel was gearing up to cut a second time. She grabbed his wrist, yelling as the knife came down over the back of her hand instead of his wrist, focusing on keeping her hand clamped over the gaping wound, hoping she could keep him from bleeding out before help arrived.
“I need some help in here!”she screamed over her shoulder, the last word cut off as Daniel cut her again,this time deeper. “Daniel, I need you to stop. Can you hear me?” She hit his hand, knocking it away, but he only brought it back, cutting her free hand. “Stop.”
“Please.” His voice dripped with pain, agony. His eyes met hers and the despair in them made her stomach clench. “Let go.”
She shook her head. “No, Daniel.”
His hand moved again, this time slicing over his thigh. “HELP!” Sam clamped her hand down over the gushing wound, pressing down hard. “I need some help in here!” Daniel was weakening, his eyes closing.
“Sam?”
“Janet, over here. Fuck. Hurry.” Janet was suddenly beside her, taking in the situation. “The leg wound is worse.” Sam said moving as much as she could to let Janet in without letting go of either wound.
“What happened?”Janet asked as her gloved hands took over holding Daniel’s leg.
The whole thing played back in her head as an orderly moved in to take Daniel’s wrist from her. “I don’t know...he was just sitting here in the dark...I couldn’t stop him.”
“Daniel, can you hear me? Get a gurney in here, we need to get him into an OR.”
She stood aside, helplessly watching as Janet and her team worked on controlling the bleeding and getting Daniel up onto the gurney, racing out of the office. She followed, stopping at the door as Colonel O’Neill said her name.
Heat leaked from her eyes as she turned to him and the pain of her own wounds started to register. “Sir, he...I…: She shook her head. His hands steadied her, pulled her in, then pushed her back.
“Carter, you’re bleeding.”
She nodded absently. “He…” She held out her hands, only just starting to realize that one of the wounds was more serious than she’d assumed. “Oh...that’s not good.”
Jack’s arm was around her waist, his body a solid wall behind her as he started them down the hall. “Just hold on.”
The blood loss had her woozy and she stumbled, protesting weakly when he scooped her up and carried her to the elevators. She was covered in blood, her hands red up to the elbows, her shirt wet with it. The infirmary was a mess, though Daniel was clearly already gone into the operating room.
Sam felt herself being settled onto a bed, but she was suddenly so tired, she didn’t think she could open her eyes. “Sam?” Janet’s voice was comforting, but not enough to pull her up to wakefulness.
“He lost a lot of blood. but he’s stable for now. I’ve got him under some pretty heavy sedation and he’s restrained.”
“And Carter?”
“I’m fine.” Sam said, opening her eyes and blinking a few times.
Janet smiled and nodded. “She is fine. We had to do some stitching and she’s not going to be doing much with her right hand for a while, but she’ll be okay.”
Sam lifted her bandaged hands and looked around them, spotting Daniel behind Janet. “Do we know what happened?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me.” Janet responded, the smile fading from her face.
Sam moved to sit up on the bed, licking her lips. “I turned on the light and he was just...sitting there, on the floor behind his desk, the knife was in his hand and he’d already started to cut...but like he hadn’t quite convinced himself. When I called for help, that’s when he really did it and when I grabbed him to stop the bleeding, that’s when he cut me. When I wouldn’t let him finish the job on his wrist, he but his thigh.”
“Did he say anything?” Colonel O’Neill asked, his forehead tight.
“Nothing that made sense. He said he was tired, and he was alone.” She could see his face in her mind as pleaded with her to let go. “He wanted to die.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Daniel I know.” Colonel O’Neill said, crossing his arms.
“He had been complaining of a headache and not being able to sleep.” Janet sighed. “I ran every blood test I could think of and other than a slightly elevated white blood cell count, I didn’t find anything. Depression doesn’t generally present in that kind of accelerated time line, from normal to suicidal in less than four days?” She shook her head. “There has to be something else going on.”
“I suggest you find it before he wakes up and tries again, or worse, it affects someone else.”
“Colonel, I have my best people on it. I doubt it is contagious however, or we’d be dealing with more cases already.”
“Then how’d he get it?”
Janet sighed. “I still don’t know that yet either, Colonel. For now, we’ll keep him sedated and we’ll keep looking. Sam, I think you should stay here for observation as well. You came in contact with his blood, if this thing, whatever it is could have affected you too.”
Waking up was like swimming up from the bottom of a lake filled with sludge. Everything felt...off, muted. He could still feel the pain in his thigh and left arm, the ache in his muscles, but it was distant, almost like it didn’t belong to him.
He could hear voices...familiar and yet foreign as he clawed his way up from the depths to try to figure out where he was and why. His body was heavy and it took him a minute to place the feeling, but it came to him sluggishly...he’d been drugged, sedated. It was more than that though, there was lingering feeling of anguish, despair that pulled at him, whispered to him to close his eyes and lose himself in the black empty space of sleep, no need to ever open his eyes again.
He groaned, forcing one eye open and instantly regretting it. The light burned and he withdrew almost immediately, burrowing down inside himself where it was quiet and dark.
Sam.
He could see her face filled with concern, her eyes compassionate, her voice yelling as he cut her.
Sam.
“Sam?” His voice was scratchy and dry, almost painful on his throat.
“I’m right here.” Her hand slid into his, and he could feel the bandages. He tried to move, but there was something holding his hand down. He swallowed and tried opening his eyes again. Someone must have notice his first attempt because the lights had been turned down. Sam smiled softly at him. “How do you feel?”
He licked his lips and considered. “Heavy.”
She nodded knowingly. “That’s the sedatives. Janet put you under pretty heavy, it’s going to take a while.”
He let his fingers play at the edge of the bandages. “You?”
“I’m fine. Just a few cuts.”
“Tired.” Her skin was warm against his, against the cold that seemed to fill him and he wanted to cling to it, but the fatigue and darkness was pulling at him and he couldn’t resist.
His dreams played out a litany of death, of faces he onced loved, people he couldn’t save, lives lost because he wasn’t fast enough or smart enough, couldn’t give enough….but somehow it didn’t cut as sharp as it had once, the edge dulled, the anguish less intense.
He was vaguely aware of people talking nearby and part of him wanted to reach out, speak, bring them closer, but there was fear as well, even if he couldn’t quite name the fear.
“I think he’s waking up.”
A hand brushed his forehead, warm and comforting and it made him want to open his eyes, but they were heavy and it took him a minute to figure out how.
Sam smiled at him, her hand slipping from his face down to his hand.
“Hey.”
He blinked, turning his head slowly as Janet came to stand beside him on the other side. “What happened?” His voice was raspy and his throat dry.
“It was a virus.” Janet said. “We almost lost you.”
“Virus?” That didn’t seem like what he remembered.
“It was on the artifacts you were studying before we went on our mission.” Sam offered. “It found it’s way to your bloodstream and created feelings of despair and suicidal thoughts..”
That he remembered. “It felt so...real.” He licked his lips and tried to shift so that he was sitting up, but discovered he was restrained.
“The virus hasn’t completely worked it’s way out of your system.” Janet said. “I don’t want to take any chances that you relapse.”
He nodded, swallowing around a feeling that there was something they weren’t saying, that he wasn’t worth telling the truth. It was a false feeling, he could tell now...or not so much false but overly amplified..they were things he sometimes felt, but he knew was nothing but his own insecurities.
“We’ve had you sedated for the last couple of days, but I started decreasing the meds this morning. How are you feeling?” Janet asked, reaching for the chart a nurse was handing her.
“Tired, thirsty, I don’t know...sad?”
She nodded, jotting notes on the chart. “Your white blood cell count is still a little elevated, so I’m going to keep you sedated a while longer, just not as deep.”
“And these?” He pulled on the restraints, wincing as his left wrist hurt in response.
“Just a little while longer.” Sam said softly.
“Dr. Frasier?” Janet excused herself and turned away, following a nurse across the infirmary.
Sam smiled at him and sat beside the bed, her hand covering his. He could see the bandages covering the back of her hand, remembered his hand and the knife. He moved so his fingers could brush along the edge of the bandage. “I hurt you.”
“Just a scratch.” Sam insisted.
“That’s not how I remember it.” Daniel said, closing his eyes.
“I wouldn’t trust what you’re feeling just yet, Daniel.” Sam said. “And, I know that we don’t...talk about stuff like this, but you do know that you are loved here, right? You do know that we couldn’t do what we do without you?”
On some level he did know that. But that didn’t stop the random emotional thoughts from filling his head in the quiet when he was alone, thoughts that obviously had become more than background under the influence of the virus. “I do, Sam. I’m not the insecure kid I used to be.”
He wanted to pull away, to hide from the look on her face, from the way his stomach twisted because he hurt her, from what he might have done, could still do. His own voice echoed in his head, words and phrases from his distant past, a time when his emotions led him down a path dark enough to swallow him whole.
“Daniel?”
He forced himself to exhale and open his eyes, meeting the concerned look Sam was giving him and offering a tight smile. “I’m okay. Just...um...memory. I...not long before I met Catherine….” His hands tightened in the restraints. He’d never spoken about it. Not to anyone. “There was a bottle of pills and a bottle of vodka…” He looked away. “I was so...alone, and I…” Tears burned in his eyes and her hand rubbed over his skin. “I just ...I remember how this feels, and...I never...something always stopped me before. If you hadn’t been there…”
“But she was.” Jack said from the end of the bed. “And from what I hear, she saved your life.”
“I’m sorry.” Daniel found himself saying. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Sam insisted.
“Major, why don’t you take a break, you look like you could use some rest.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam leaned in and kissed his forehead, squeezing his hand as she stood to leave. Jack took her place, his eyes scanning over Daniel from head to toe and back again.
“So…this is a good look for you. Sort of medical bondage chic.” He grinned, but Daniel could read his concern. “You scared me this time.” All attempt at levity vanished as his eyes met Daniel’s. “Everytime you’ve nearly died, even most of the times you have died, I knew you’d be okay, I knew you’d come back...but this time...this time I was scared.”
“I’m sorry.” Daniel said again, feeling like it didn’t even begin to cover the depth of his regret.
“No, this is not for you to apologize for.” Jack said. “This...this is on me. I realize that I take you for granted far too much. I assume you will be okay, that you’ll find a way, that you’ll fix...everything….and this time, you needed me to realize that you couldn’t and I didn’t.”
“It was an alien virus, Jack, you couldn’t have done anything.”
“Yes, I could have noticed that my friend need help, before he nearly killed himself.” Jack said. “I failed you, Daniel. And I am sorry.”
Daniel’s breathe caught on the sincerity of Jack’s tone and face, something he couldn’t remember ever seeing in him before, not like this. “Okay, thank you...I guess.” Daniel said.
“Now, since Frasier says the virus is still lurking around, and that it might affect your emotional state, I’m going to make sure you know that we appreciate you around here.”
Daniel lifted an eyebrow as Jack grinned. “See, I brought you your glasses.” He pulled them from his jacket pocket, then reached over to the nearby bed for a pack. “And those books you were using on that translation you haven’t finished.”
“Jack, I--”
“I’m kidding.” Jack put the pack down on the table beside the bed. “It’s other books...totally unrelated to work. Some crosswords, oh, and I brought that trivia game you like.”
“You mean the one you refuse to play with me and Sam?”
He grinned. “I bought the supplement questions deck, sports edition.”
It was another week before Janet weaned him completely off the sedatives, and a few more days before she let him leave the base to go home. He was still strangely wobbly at odd moments, but he felt like things were returning to normal...for some value of normal.
He had to admit, it had been a long, long time since his life had anything most people would consider normal in it. He still doubted himself, sometimes a lot, but even so, he wouldn’t trade what he had for anything.
“You guys don’t have to stay.” Daniel said as Jack dropped his duffle bag on Daniel’s couch and Sam took bags of take out to the kitchen counter.
“It is customary on Chulak to welcome a returning warrior home with food and celebration.” Teal’c said, closing the door.
“I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but...I don’t need babysitters. I’m okay.”
“Not babysitters.” Sam said, setting out plates and containers of Chinese food. “Family. And we haven’t done this in forever. Colonel O’Neill brought games.”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m not playing Risk again, not with you three.”
Jack grinned and held up a box. “I thought we’d try Monopoly.”
“Oh, yeah, so much better.”
The feeling of home settled over him, a feeling he hadn’t stopped to notice in a while. It had nothing to do with the apartment, and everything to do with the people in it. Yeah, okay, he was still a little wobbly and his thoughts might stray from time to time, but he was going to be okay.
At least until the next time they went off world.
Title: Despair
Characters: Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, Janet Frasier
Word Count: ~5300
Rating: Rish (for suicidal thoughts/actions)
Summary: Daniel's on a dark journey, lonliness and despair working into him until he sees no way out
A/Ns & Warnings: As with most things these days, this fic is
badfalcon's fault. It began when she asked me if I had losed a suicidally depressed Daniel. I hadn't...but I suddenly found myself with one. WARNINGS: Daniel is suicidal, Daniel attempts suicide. If this is triggory for you, please don't read it.
"You three can go. Daniel, hold up a minute." Dr. Frasier closed a chart and crossed to where Daniel was sitting on the exam table, lifting her hands to feel his neck again. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, shaking his head a little. "I feel fine, why?"
"Well, your white blood cell counts were a little elevated. I want to take a little more blood for testing."
"I'm sure it's nothing." Daniel said, his mind racing over all of the work he had stacked on his desk.
"It will only take a minute. Better safe than sorry." She held out her hand for the tourniquet and needle, offering him a smile before she drew the blood. She passed it off and pressed gauze against the bleeding hole in his arm, taping it down before stripping off her gloves and patting his knee. "All set. I'll let you know if our tests turn up anything."
"I'll be buried under the landslide of cataloguing in my office." Daniel replied, slipping off the bed and grabbing his jacket on the way out the door.
Sam was leaning against his office door as he walked up, and she smiled. "What was that about?"
Daniel shook his head and opened the door, turning on the light and almost wishing he hadn't. "White blood cell count was up."
"I hope you're not getting sick." Sam said, following him into the cramped office space.
"It's probably just stress. They keep promising me an assistant to help with all of this cataloguing but no one ever comes…the artifacts don't stop though…and the translation on that text from SG-3's last mission…and the translation of that ancient tablet…."
Sam made a face and held up both hands. "I'll get out of your hair then."
"Oh, hey…we still on for Sunday?"
She stopped in the door way, her face scrunching up like she had forgotten. "Ah…yeah. Can we move it to noon? I've got a thing…"
"Yeah, noon is fine." Daniel said, looking around him and trying to figure out where, exactly, to start.
He didn't even notice when Sam left, as he sorted through various items from recent offworld expeditions. He slipped easily into the old comfortable routine of cataloguing and tagging, finding the box of artifacts he'd been sorting from P3X-6D9. He'd barely gotten started before Jack had come to get him for their last mission. He shifted his chair closer to the table and spread out a soft cloth over the surface of the table before he started carefully pulling the items out of the box and setting them out in front of him.
No one ever helps.
He leaned back for his bag, taking out his notebook and camera, tags and a pen. Then remembered the voice recorder and got up to go get it from the desk. "P3X-6D9, a box of what looks to be early Phoenician artifacts judging by the design and artistic flavor, though Dr. Ilven has stated that the writing bears a closer resemblance to Sumerian. At first glance, I would agree." He set the voice recorder aside and picked up a small, round object that looked like it might have been a piece of jewelry, though the red and blue enamel was cracked and broken in places.
Several hours later, Daniel looked up, bleary eyed and rubbing his forehead. He glanced around, reaching toward his desk for his coffee mug. He knew better than to pull an all nighter, but he needed another few hours to work through the fascinating history the artifacts were telling him.
He grabbed his thermos as well and headed off to the mess hall. The corridors were quiet and he realized it was probably later than he had first assumed.
Why is it I'm always the last one here?
Daniel frowned at the thought. It wasn't true. Sam often worked as late as he did, sometimes later. Jack, on the other hand…He shook his head. Jack didn't need to hang around the base. His job was out in the field. When they were home Jack was not in his element.
Why am I making excuses, it's not like he makes them for me.
Daniel sighed as he let himself into the mess hall, crossing to the coffee that seemed to always be hot and ready for those who pulled in the long hours.
"Daniel Jackson, I did not realize you were still here."
Daniel looked up at Teal'c, frowning a little as he realized his eyes hurt and there was a low throb in his forehead. "Yeah, no…I have a lot of work to do."
"Why are you squinting?"
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've got a headache."
"Perhaps you should return to your home and sleep."
"I'm fine. What are you doing up at this hour?" Daniel capped his thermos and filled his mug, sipping at it.
"I desired a snack."
Daniel lifted an eyebrow at Teal'c's idea of a snack. "Just a little one I see."
Teal'c looked at him blankly and Daniel shook his head. "Well, I should get back to it."
He doesn't care.
Daniel frowned and shook his head, leaving Teal'c in the mess and heading back to his office. He sipped at his coffee as he ducked in, sighing again at the stacks of books and boxes and impractically crammed shelves. If he didn't know better, he would think someone had snuck inside while he was getting coffee and added to the mess.
Not like they haven't done it before.
He went back to his chair, setting the thermos aside and sipping at his cup as he looked over the remaining artifacts. He'd finish this box, then get some sleep.
"Hey, Daniel…" Sam came to a stop just inside the door of the office. The place was a mess, worse than when she'd been there the day before. "Daniel?"
She stepped around a pile of boxes to find Daniel hunched over a tablet, his pen in one hand hovering over his notebook, his eyes glazed over, his other hand clutching the back of his neck. "Daniel?" Sam was almost convinced he was sleeping with his eyes open. She reached out a hand to touch him and he inhaled slowly, turning red eyes up to her.
"Hey, have you been at it all night?"
He looked around them, blinking slowly. "What time is it?" His speech was sluggish and his breathing sounded tight.
"Almost nine am." Sam responded. "You don't look so good."
He grimaced and licked his lips with what looked like a dry tongue. "Headdache." He reached for his coffee cup, but it was empty.
"I don't think you need more coffee. I think you need sleep." Sam said, pulling the also empty thermos away from him.
"I'm fine. Almost…." He shook his head and stood slowly. "Whoa." He grabbed the table to keep from falling down. "Maybe a little nap."
"Yeah, I think maybe." She slipped an arm under his and around his waist, letting him lean a little as they headed for the door. They were nearly to the elevator when he suddenly straightened up and pulled away.
"Damn." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
"You could say that." Sam chuckled a little as the elevator opened and Daniel followed her inside. "Colonel O'Neill wanted to know how that translation was coming, I think I'll tell him you're still working on it."
"Which one?" Daniel asked, his voice sounding heavy. "No, nevermind. I don't want to know." He slipped out of the elevator as soon as the doors open. "Tell him I'll get to it when I get to it."
Sam watched him go, holding his head and letting his other hand guide him down the corridor. She followed a few paces back, concerned now that he might not actually get all the way to his quarters. Once he had and the door was closed, she exhaled and decided to check in with Janet.
She had to wait once she got down to the infirmary as Janet was just finishing up with a returning SG team, but when the last of them was cleared and on their way out, Janet smiled at her. "Sam, what brings you down here?"
She bit her lip and shrugged, both hands in her pockets. "Daniel."
"Oh?" Janet put down the chart in her hand. "Is something wrong?"
"You tell me. He said you told him his white blood cell was high?"
Janet's face said it wasn't much of a concern even before her words. "A little. Every test was fine, he's probably just fighting off a cold or something. Why?"
Sam frowned and shrugged again. "He's…I don't know. I can't put my finger on it."
"Okay, but something's got you worried."
"I just found him in his office, almost buried under books and boxes and he was just staring blindly at this tablet…he didn't even hear me come in."
Janet smiled. "That sounds an awful lot like Daniel."
Sam shook her head. "You didn't see him. It wasn't like…Daniel."
"Well, he mentioned that he hasn't been sleeping well, and it sounds like he pulled another all nighter. How about I go check on him?"
She was probably right. It was probably nothing. She sighed. "No, he's probably okay. He just went to his quarters to get some sleep."
Janet nodded. "Okay, well, I'll check up in him later."
"Okay, good. That makes me feel better." Sam left the infirmary and headed for her own lab. Like Daniel, she had a backlog of work to get to.
"Daniel?"
He was aware of the voice, but it seemed distant, until a hand touched his shoulder. Daniel blinked and looked up, half surprised to realize he was in the briefing room and Jack was looking at him like he was annoyed. Again.
Not like Jack's ever not annoyed with me.
"What? Sorry. I'm not sleeping well."
"Or at all." Jack argued. "Carter told me she found you in your office this morning, that you never went home."
"I was working." Daniel countered, stretching. His body ached all over as if he'd run a marathon and finished it with a good beating. "Unlike you, my job doesn't end when we get back to the base."
Jack raised an eyebrow, but Daniel just stood, sighing heavily. "Is that all? I've got work to do." He rubbed at the spot between his eyes that just seemed to ache perpetually.
"Daniel, I think maybe you should go home, get some sleep."
He doesn't think I can handle it.
"I will. After I finish--"
"No. Now."
He knows I can't do it. He knows I'm a fuck up.
"Jack, I just need a little more time."
"Daniel, it can wait. Go get some sleep."
Daniel didn't look at him but nodded. "Yeah, okay. Fine." It isn't like he even understands what I do here. He couldn't deny he was tired. He couldn't remember the last time he actually slept. No time for sleep when everyone is relying on me. Why do they rely on me? I can't do anything right. He rubbed at his forehead and let his steps carry him, nearly running Janet over.
"Ah, just the man I was looking for." Janet said, though she frowned when she got a look at him. "Daniel, are you feeling all right?"
He grimaced and pulled away from her. "Headache."
She nodded and stepped in front of him when he would have pulled away. "Why don't you come down to my office, let me run a few more tests?"
"Don't you have enough of my blood already?" Daniel snapped, pushing past her. "I have work to do."
She got in front of him again, putting a hand on his chest. “I can make it an order.”
Daniel closed his eyes and pushed aside the angry response that bubbled inside him. “I’m fine,” he said again, though he was starting to wonder because his head was really starting to pound and his eyes hurt. The light in the corridor was too bright.
“I’m sure you are. Let me prove it.”
He didn’t argue as she took his arm and started them toward the elevator. I’m not sick. I’m tired. So fucking tired.
Janet steered him into the infirmary, and over to an exam bed, waving one of the nurses over to her.. “Let’s get his vitals and run a standard blood panel.”
You won’t find anything. I’m what’s wrong.
“Daniel?”
His thoughts were sluggish, realizing Janet had been talking to him. “Yeah.”
“Are you listening to me?”
He blinked and tried to remember what she’d said. “Yeah.”
She looked concerned. “I want you to sleep. I’m running your blood work, but your temperature is slightly elevated and your blood pressure is low.”
He nodded slowly though her words seemed strange. “I have Nancy setting up a room for you.”
“No.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I can just go to my quarters.”
“Promise me you’ll sleep?”
I can’t even be trusted to do that.
Somehow he managed to get out of the room, with reassurances he would sleep and a bottle of pain medication for the headache. He stumbled back to his quarters, collapsing onto his bed. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes as he curled up, his head swirling with memory, watching friends die over and over, innocents he couldn’t save, words he couldn’t translate, piling up at him.
Worthless.
Pretender.
Murderer.
The dark settled in around him, unnoticed.
They all know I’m nothing.
All around him artifacts sat, unboxed, untagged, barely touched.
They tolerate me for what I know.
The only light in the room was a sliver coming through the barely open door from the corridor, and he hid from it behind his desk, lacking the motivation to get up and close the door.
How much longer before they realize I don’t know anything?
Muscles ached and pain filled his joints, his head was heavy with faces of people he knew hated him. Tears slipped hot and thick from eyes he could barely keep open.
Not good enough. My whole life has been nothing but pretend.
The bottle of pills is on the floor, taunting him.
So easy, just go to sleep. How much more can I do? Who would even know? How long before they find me here in the dark?
Beside the bottle is a gun, and he isn’t sure how he got it, but it’s there, waiting for his hand to bring it to life.
So alone. Always alone.
It’s the knife he picks up...though he doesn’t remember doing so. The curved blade caresses the skin of his wrist, wicked and welcome.
So tired, just want to sleep.
"Good morning, Sir. Have you seen Daniel this morning?" Sam asked as she say Colonel O’Neill coming toward Daniel’s office door.
"No, I was coming to look for him."
The light was out and the door was mostly closed, usually an indication that Daniel hadn’t made it as far as his office yet."Did you walk out with him on Friday?"
"No, I came to see if he wanted to grab a beer, but his lights were already out. I figured Frasier sent him home."
Sam nodded. Janet had told Sam she was worried even though none of his tests showed anything really wrong. "She wanted him to stay here, but he wasn’t in his quarters. We were supposed to have lunch yesterday, but he never showed. Didn't answer his phone either."
"Well, that's not good." He scratched his head. “I’ll check with security, see when he went through them last.”
"I'll see if his bag is in his office." Sam slid a hand over the door, opening it slowly, letting her eyes sweep the gloom, before she reached for the light. The office was still in disarray, but a small motion drew her eye past the mess to a spot just behind the desk.
“Daniel?” She whispered the name, but in the stale silence of the room it seemed loud. She eased past a stack of boxes toward the desk, her eyes widening as she saw him.
Daniel sat on the floor, his face turned from her, a ceremonial dagger in his hand and pressed to the already bleeding skin of his wrist. “Oh...Daniel…” she breathed, inching closer. Sam glanced back at the door, wanting to call Jack back, but not wanting to startle Daniel. There were several scratches on his skin, like he’d been trying to make the cut but just hadn’t gone deep enough.
“Daniel, can you hear me?” He flinched when she reached to him, the knife moving up his arm. “Daniel, please stop.”
He blinked slowly, turning his face not quite to her. His eyes were bloodshot and red, sunken in skin that nearly looked bruised. Tears wet his cheeks. His mouth moved though there was no sound coming from him. “Can you give me the knife?” Sam asked, squatting slowly so they were on the same level.
“...not good enough…” Daniel’s voice was barely a whisper, the knife moving a little more forcefully. “...tired...alone…”
“Not alone, Daniel. I’m right here.” He didn’t respond and there was more blood now. She stood, and backed up to the phone on the wall near the door. She kept her voice calm as she called the infirmary, her eyes on Daniel. “Medical Emergency, Dr. Jackson’s office.”
Daniel’s head dropped forward, and Sam dropped the phone and dove toward him, instinctively knowing somehow that his cut this time was going to be bad. Blood spilled out at an alarming rate and Daniel was gearing up to cut a second time. She grabbed his wrist, yelling as the knife came down over the back of her hand instead of his wrist, focusing on keeping her hand clamped over the gaping wound, hoping she could keep him from bleeding out before help arrived.
“I need some help in here!”she screamed over her shoulder, the last word cut off as Daniel cut her again,this time deeper. “Daniel, I need you to stop. Can you hear me?” She hit his hand, knocking it away, but he only brought it back, cutting her free hand. “Stop.”
“Please.” His voice dripped with pain, agony. His eyes met hers and the despair in them made her stomach clench. “Let go.”
She shook her head. “No, Daniel.”
His hand moved again, this time slicing over his thigh. “HELP!” Sam clamped her hand down over the gushing wound, pressing down hard. “I need some help in here!” Daniel was weakening, his eyes closing.
“Sam?”
“Janet, over here. Fuck. Hurry.” Janet was suddenly beside her, taking in the situation. “The leg wound is worse.” Sam said moving as much as she could to let Janet in without letting go of either wound.
“What happened?”Janet asked as her gloved hands took over holding Daniel’s leg.
The whole thing played back in her head as an orderly moved in to take Daniel’s wrist from her. “I don’t know...he was just sitting here in the dark...I couldn’t stop him.”
“Daniel, can you hear me? Get a gurney in here, we need to get him into an OR.”
She stood aside, helplessly watching as Janet and her team worked on controlling the bleeding and getting Daniel up onto the gurney, racing out of the office. She followed, stopping at the door as Colonel O’Neill said her name.
Heat leaked from her eyes as she turned to him and the pain of her own wounds started to register. “Sir, he...I…: She shook her head. His hands steadied her, pulled her in, then pushed her back.
“Carter, you’re bleeding.”
She nodded absently. “He…” She held out her hands, only just starting to realize that one of the wounds was more serious than she’d assumed. “Oh...that’s not good.”
Jack’s arm was around her waist, his body a solid wall behind her as he started them down the hall. “Just hold on.”
The blood loss had her woozy and she stumbled, protesting weakly when he scooped her up and carried her to the elevators. She was covered in blood, her hands red up to the elbows, her shirt wet with it. The infirmary was a mess, though Daniel was clearly already gone into the operating room.
Sam felt herself being settled onto a bed, but she was suddenly so tired, she didn’t think she could open her eyes. “Sam?” Janet’s voice was comforting, but not enough to pull her up to wakefulness.
“He lost a lot of blood. but he’s stable for now. I’ve got him under some pretty heavy sedation and he’s restrained.”
“And Carter?”
“I’m fine.” Sam said, opening her eyes and blinking a few times.
Janet smiled and nodded. “She is fine. We had to do some stitching and she’s not going to be doing much with her right hand for a while, but she’ll be okay.”
Sam lifted her bandaged hands and looked around them, spotting Daniel behind Janet. “Do we know what happened?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me.” Janet responded, the smile fading from her face.
Sam moved to sit up on the bed, licking her lips. “I turned on the light and he was just...sitting there, on the floor behind his desk, the knife was in his hand and he’d already started to cut...but like he hadn’t quite convinced himself. When I called for help, that’s when he really did it and when I grabbed him to stop the bleeding, that’s when he cut me. When I wouldn’t let him finish the job on his wrist, he but his thigh.”
“Did he say anything?” Colonel O’Neill asked, his forehead tight.
“Nothing that made sense. He said he was tired, and he was alone.” She could see his face in her mind as pleaded with her to let go. “He wanted to die.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Daniel I know.” Colonel O’Neill said, crossing his arms.
“He had been complaining of a headache and not being able to sleep.” Janet sighed. “I ran every blood test I could think of and other than a slightly elevated white blood cell count, I didn’t find anything. Depression doesn’t generally present in that kind of accelerated time line, from normal to suicidal in less than four days?” She shook her head. “There has to be something else going on.”
“I suggest you find it before he wakes up and tries again, or worse, it affects someone else.”
“Colonel, I have my best people on it. I doubt it is contagious however, or we’d be dealing with more cases already.”
“Then how’d he get it?”
Janet sighed. “I still don’t know that yet either, Colonel. For now, we’ll keep him sedated and we’ll keep looking. Sam, I think you should stay here for observation as well. You came in contact with his blood, if this thing, whatever it is could have affected you too.”
Waking up was like swimming up from the bottom of a lake filled with sludge. Everything felt...off, muted. He could still feel the pain in his thigh and left arm, the ache in his muscles, but it was distant, almost like it didn’t belong to him.
He could hear voices...familiar and yet foreign as he clawed his way up from the depths to try to figure out where he was and why. His body was heavy and it took him a minute to place the feeling, but it came to him sluggishly...he’d been drugged, sedated. It was more than that though, there was lingering feeling of anguish, despair that pulled at him, whispered to him to close his eyes and lose himself in the black empty space of sleep, no need to ever open his eyes again.
He groaned, forcing one eye open and instantly regretting it. The light burned and he withdrew almost immediately, burrowing down inside himself where it was quiet and dark.
Sam.
He could see her face filled with concern, her eyes compassionate, her voice yelling as he cut her.
Sam.
“Sam?” His voice was scratchy and dry, almost painful on his throat.
“I’m right here.” Her hand slid into his, and he could feel the bandages. He tried to move, but there was something holding his hand down. He swallowed and tried opening his eyes again. Someone must have notice his first attempt because the lights had been turned down. Sam smiled softly at him. “How do you feel?”
He licked his lips and considered. “Heavy.”
She nodded knowingly. “That’s the sedatives. Janet put you under pretty heavy, it’s going to take a while.”
He let his fingers play at the edge of the bandages. “You?”
“I’m fine. Just a few cuts.”
“Tired.” Her skin was warm against his, against the cold that seemed to fill him and he wanted to cling to it, but the fatigue and darkness was pulling at him and he couldn’t resist.
His dreams played out a litany of death, of faces he onced loved, people he couldn’t save, lives lost because he wasn’t fast enough or smart enough, couldn’t give enough….but somehow it didn’t cut as sharp as it had once, the edge dulled, the anguish less intense.
He was vaguely aware of people talking nearby and part of him wanted to reach out, speak, bring them closer, but there was fear as well, even if he couldn’t quite name the fear.
“I think he’s waking up.”
A hand brushed his forehead, warm and comforting and it made him want to open his eyes, but they were heavy and it took him a minute to figure out how.
Sam smiled at him, her hand slipping from his face down to his hand.
“Hey.”
He blinked, turning his head slowly as Janet came to stand beside him on the other side. “What happened?” His voice was raspy and his throat dry.
“It was a virus.” Janet said. “We almost lost you.”
“Virus?” That didn’t seem like what he remembered.
“It was on the artifacts you were studying before we went on our mission.” Sam offered. “It found it’s way to your bloodstream and created feelings of despair and suicidal thoughts..”
That he remembered. “It felt so...real.” He licked his lips and tried to shift so that he was sitting up, but discovered he was restrained.
“The virus hasn’t completely worked it’s way out of your system.” Janet said. “I don’t want to take any chances that you relapse.”
He nodded, swallowing around a feeling that there was something they weren’t saying, that he wasn’t worth telling the truth. It was a false feeling, he could tell now...or not so much false but overly amplified..they were things he sometimes felt, but he knew was nothing but his own insecurities.
“We’ve had you sedated for the last couple of days, but I started decreasing the meds this morning. How are you feeling?” Janet asked, reaching for the chart a nurse was handing her.
“Tired, thirsty, I don’t know...sad?”
She nodded, jotting notes on the chart. “Your white blood cell count is still a little elevated, so I’m going to keep you sedated a while longer, just not as deep.”
“And these?” He pulled on the restraints, wincing as his left wrist hurt in response.
“Just a little while longer.” Sam said softly.
“Dr. Frasier?” Janet excused herself and turned away, following a nurse across the infirmary.
Sam smiled at him and sat beside the bed, her hand covering his. He could see the bandages covering the back of her hand, remembered his hand and the knife. He moved so his fingers could brush along the edge of the bandage. “I hurt you.”
“Just a scratch.” Sam insisted.
“That’s not how I remember it.” Daniel said, closing his eyes.
“I wouldn’t trust what you’re feeling just yet, Daniel.” Sam said. “And, I know that we don’t...talk about stuff like this, but you do know that you are loved here, right? You do know that we couldn’t do what we do without you?”
On some level he did know that. But that didn’t stop the random emotional thoughts from filling his head in the quiet when he was alone, thoughts that obviously had become more than background under the influence of the virus. “I do, Sam. I’m not the insecure kid I used to be.”
He wanted to pull away, to hide from the look on her face, from the way his stomach twisted because he hurt her, from what he might have done, could still do. His own voice echoed in his head, words and phrases from his distant past, a time when his emotions led him down a path dark enough to swallow him whole.
“Daniel?”
He forced himself to exhale and open his eyes, meeting the concerned look Sam was giving him and offering a tight smile. “I’m okay. Just...um...memory. I...not long before I met Catherine….” His hands tightened in the restraints. He’d never spoken about it. Not to anyone. “There was a bottle of pills and a bottle of vodka…” He looked away. “I was so...alone, and I…” Tears burned in his eyes and her hand rubbed over his skin. “I just ...I remember how this feels, and...I never...something always stopped me before. If you hadn’t been there…”
“But she was.” Jack said from the end of the bed. “And from what I hear, she saved your life.”
“I’m sorry.” Daniel found himself saying. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Sam insisted.
“Major, why don’t you take a break, you look like you could use some rest.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam leaned in and kissed his forehead, squeezing his hand as she stood to leave. Jack took her place, his eyes scanning over Daniel from head to toe and back again.
“So…this is a good look for you. Sort of medical bondage chic.” He grinned, but Daniel could read his concern. “You scared me this time.” All attempt at levity vanished as his eyes met Daniel’s. “Everytime you’ve nearly died, even most of the times you have died, I knew you’d be okay, I knew you’d come back...but this time...this time I was scared.”
“I’m sorry.” Daniel said again, feeling like it didn’t even begin to cover the depth of his regret.
“No, this is not for you to apologize for.” Jack said. “This...this is on me. I realize that I take you for granted far too much. I assume you will be okay, that you’ll find a way, that you’ll fix...everything….and this time, you needed me to realize that you couldn’t and I didn’t.”
“It was an alien virus, Jack, you couldn’t have done anything.”
“Yes, I could have noticed that my friend need help, before he nearly killed himself.” Jack said. “I failed you, Daniel. And I am sorry.”
Daniel’s breathe caught on the sincerity of Jack’s tone and face, something he couldn’t remember ever seeing in him before, not like this. “Okay, thank you...I guess.” Daniel said.
“Now, since Frasier says the virus is still lurking around, and that it might affect your emotional state, I’m going to make sure you know that we appreciate you around here.”
Daniel lifted an eyebrow as Jack grinned. “See, I brought you your glasses.” He pulled them from his jacket pocket, then reached over to the nearby bed for a pack. “And those books you were using on that translation you haven’t finished.”
“Jack, I--”
“I’m kidding.” Jack put the pack down on the table beside the bed. “It’s other books...totally unrelated to work. Some crosswords, oh, and I brought that trivia game you like.”
“You mean the one you refuse to play with me and Sam?”
He grinned. “I bought the supplement questions deck, sports edition.”
It was another week before Janet weaned him completely off the sedatives, and a few more days before she let him leave the base to go home. He was still strangely wobbly at odd moments, but he felt like things were returning to normal...for some value of normal.
He had to admit, it had been a long, long time since his life had anything most people would consider normal in it. He still doubted himself, sometimes a lot, but even so, he wouldn’t trade what he had for anything.
“You guys don’t have to stay.” Daniel said as Jack dropped his duffle bag on Daniel’s couch and Sam took bags of take out to the kitchen counter.
“It is customary on Chulak to welcome a returning warrior home with food and celebration.” Teal’c said, closing the door.
“I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but...I don’t need babysitters. I’m okay.”
“Not babysitters.” Sam said, setting out plates and containers of Chinese food. “Family. And we haven’t done this in forever. Colonel O’Neill brought games.”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m not playing Risk again, not with you three.”
Jack grinned and held up a box. “I thought we’d try Monopoly.”
“Oh, yeah, so much better.”
The feeling of home settled over him, a feeling he hadn’t stopped to notice in a while. It had nothing to do with the apartment, and everything to do with the people in it. Yeah, okay, he was still a little wobbly and his thoughts might stray from time to time, but he was going to be okay.
At least until the next time they went off world.