Adrenaline
SUMMARY: After all these years of SG-1 seeing Janet Fraiser in action, she finally gets to see them in action..
CATEGORY: Humor, character study, gen (though you could definitely read J/D into it if you want, as is so often the case with mine)
SPOILERS: Anything through S7.
WARNINGS: None. Except it's first person, present tense, which may bug some people.
RATING: PG
COMPLETED: March 20, 2009
BETA: paian , without whom this would not have made as much sense.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Before Heroes aired, I had been toying with the idea of this story in which Janet gets caught in a battle situation with SG-1 during S7, told from her perspective. Heroes kind of ruined it for me, but after a couple of years away from the show, I found I still wanted to tell this story. IMO, it works best if your personal canon does not include Heroes and the loss of Janet Frasier.
God, it’s loud. And I’m shaking.
I open my mouth to ask Teal’c if Lieutenant Devin has shown any sign of consciousness since-
Something hits my back, then the fabric of my jacket bunches and pulls - it’s a hand on me, oh god - and I’m losing my balance, toppling face foward onto the dirt. Warm weight lands half on top of me, all along my left side, and a hand touches ground on the other side of my head. It’s a man (ah, so I do remember that feeling, though never quite like this). I feel lips and the tip of a nose bump against the back of my head, and he exhales loudly, tickling my scalp with warm moist breath.
An ungodly blast seems to knock the ground out from under us, and it feels like stepping off a stair you didn’t realize was there. But then the shockwave passes, and the ground is still beneath us.
He lifts his head from mine. “You okay?” he yells through the din of the al’kesh engines, so close I can feel his breath again, this time against my ear.
I want to scream I’m being babysat by a civilian, how do you think I’m doing? But that would just be the adrenaline talking. Truth is, I’m scared silly. Anyway, there isn’t time to talk before he’s grabbing me by the jacket again, hauling me up from the ground, and we’re running again.
And would it be realistic to call Daniel a civilian, anyway - anymore? Certainly not since he died - really died - and came back.
He keeps his hand on my back. He is babysitting me, goddamit. He’s looking out for me so the real Air Force officers can do their jobs without getting distracted.
And that’s just the thing. Like all Air Force medical personnel, I keep up my training enough not to be a liability in the field, but it’s not my job to be chased by an alkesh and a platoon of Jaffa. In fact, those particular items weren’t even on today’s menu, and had Colonel O'Neill had the slightest indication they would show up, he’d never have called me through the gate. I’m not required to be proficient at this. Then again, neither is Daniel, but he seems to be doing just fine.
Oh, what the hell. It may be the only chance he ever has to return all the favors he thinks he owes me for patching him up time and again.
Suddenly, he shoves me away and I turn to see what’s going on. He’s got Lieutenant Devin’s P-90, and he and Sam are providing cover fire. Daniel looks like he does this every day, and now I’m really embarrassed - or would be, if I weren’t so busy being terrified. More bullets are stirring up dirt than hitting Jaffa, but it gives Colonel O'Neill, Teal’c, and Major Coker (yes, his title and name have been the source of some god-awful jokes around the SGC) time to drag the other three members of SG-9 toward... where are we going?
“Go!” Daniel screams at me over the gunfire. I obey automatically, only belatedly realizing I just took an order from Daniel - and he sounded as scary as O’Neill on a bad day. Daniel, the misplaced museum curator, my best and worst patient, the man who can have a barbarous hostile alien eating out of his hand - literally - in two days flat or your money back. I wonder, how did I not know he had this in him?
We’re moving into a cave. How are the Jaffa supposed to miss this big gaping entrance? But Colonel O'Neill looks relaxed, and Colonel O'Neill should have died at least twenty chilling times that I can count from his medical file alone. If he says we’re safe, I’ll accept it.
Teal’c has hauled Devin in here in a fireman’s carry, and now he’s heading further back into the cave. Lieutenant Garvin and Captain Wyn, my medics, follow him with a stretcher.
My instincts kick back in, and I jog over to join them. My comfort zone may be temporarily enveloped in a war zone, but it’s still where I’m at home. “Did he regain consciousness at any point?” I ask Teal’c.
My medics lay down the stretcher where he indicated, and he very gently deposits Devin on it. Then he backs away to give us space. “He did not,” Teal’c answers.
I’m checking Devin’s pulse when I realize I don’t know where the cooler with the type A blood got to - the blood I brought when O’Neill radioed the SGC to let us know Lieutenant Devin had taken a bad fall into a ravine and was losing a lot of blood, before anyone had the slightest idea some Jaffa would coincidentally show up ten seconds after I’d finished slapping on the organic bandage from Area 51.
“Thanks,” Garvey says, and I see Sam handing her the cooler.
“Thank you, Sam,” I say in a very sober tone. “I don’t know how you kept up with this, but it might just save Devin’s life.” Garvey’s already prepping Devin, and I’m pulling the bag of blood out of the cooler.
Wyn lifts Devin’s t-shirt, and we see clean white bandages. “It’s not bleeding through,” she says in a hopeful tone.
I nod. “In all our trials, the organic bandage immediately adhered to the skin, sealed the wound, and started making repairs. Within a few days, it melts into the skin like it was never there.” Unless he’s got an internal injury we missed, of course. I don’t say that out loud.
As we hook Devin up, I hear Daniel’s voice again, talking quietly to O'Neill over near the mouth of the cave. We get the IV in, and that’s it for now.
I catch the colonel’s eye and give him a concerned look. Even with a field transfusion and the miracle bandage, I’m not sure how long Devin’s got. He’s lost a lot of blood. What if he does have internal injuries? What if he has an allergic reaction to the bandage?
The colonel nods, understanding. Now Sam is talking to him, and I see Coker over by Merchant. Gang’s all here. But what are we-
“We’ve got a plan,” Colonel O'Neill announces suddenly, startling me a little. “We should be back through the gate in thirty minutes.”
They’ve got a plan to take out an al’kesh and about twelve Jaffa on the ground? I know better than to ask. Devin might actually hold out thirty minutes. I make eye contact with Garvey, who also manages to look hopeful.
“Anything I can do?” That’s Daniel, crouching across from me on Devin’s other side.
I shake my head. There’s nothing more any of us can do.
Cassie has a piano recital tonight, some part of my brain reminds me. I can’t miss it; she’d be crushed.
The more rational part of my brain points out that what I should be worrying about is the possibility of never seeing Cassie again. Then I decide it’s better to worry about the recital.
Daniel walks around Devin, all the way to my other side, and sits against the cave wall, knees drawn up. He tilts his head significantly toward the patch of wall between him and Devin, and I realize I’m about to start trembling from the adrenaline letdown. Maybe he’s got a good idea. I sit down between my patient and Daniel, and lean back against the wall. I take a deep breath.
Garvey and Wyn sit down a few yards away to chat quietly. They went through the Academy together and haven’t been out of it that long, so they’ll probably look on this as a new adventure to share. Wish I could.
Daniel bumps my shoulder with his, a friendly support gesture. I turn, and he’s giving me a little smile. Is he trying to cheer me up? Hell, I’m completely numb.
He leans toward me, conspiratorially, and stage whispers, “Next time we ask the general to have you join us off-world, I swear it’s going to be because we’ve found a nice beach.”
My shoulders quake. It’s not much of a laugh, but he gets it. “You didn’t know the Jaffa were coming.”
“No, but after all these years, you’d think we’d have learned it’s impossible to conduct a simple archeological survey without getting attacked by somebody,” he quips. He shifts on the hard ground, removing his glasses to rub his eyes, and his thigh brushes against mine just for a second, bringing a welcome warm rush of feeling to me. Not that kind of feeling - although if it had been, it certainly would have been understandable as a one-time wild-haired reaction to peril. But as attractive as Daniel is - as a lot of the men under my care are - the relationship I have with my patients’ bodies is even more intimate than a sexual one. I’m too aware of their fragile points, of what aches in cold weather and why, too used to handling them gently to imagine having carefree passionate sex with them.
No, the charge I get from touching Daniel is different. It may sound silly, but even after all these months, I still feel awe every time I experience any physical contact with him. I mean, I bandaged this body as it disintegrated from radiation poisoning. I pumped morphine into it, and abstractly considered pumping a bit too much to end his suffering. I watched it turn into glowing energy so there wasn’t even anything for us to bury. I mourned him. I missed having this particular body to examine and repair and look after, missed this brain that wove arguments like a silk parachute around me when its owner didn’t like my advice.
And now here it is, back in my care, whole and intact. Not exactly as if nothing happened - he seems more at peace than he did before he ascended. I think the Daniel we lost didn’t think we’d miss him all that much. This Daniel seems to have an inkling of just how much he was missed, and he takes it in stride.
Of course, last week he took having twelve extra people living in his head in stride. I don’t even want to think about the implications of that.
I realize suddenly that we’re making eye contact, and have been the whole time I’ve been thinking about all this. I think it was just a few seconds, but I’m not really sure. His expression is inquisitive, and at first I think he's going to ask me a difficult question - but, no. I know that look. That’s the look a commanding officer gets when he’s trying to assess if someone under his command is coping under pressure.
Embarrassed, I break the stare and look around for somewhere else to point my eyes, only to find Colonel O'Neill standing a few yards away, talking to Teal’c, but looking at me with a thoughtful expression. At first I think it’s the same look Daniel was giving me, but this is more of a frown. Almost a glare. Then he glances at Daniel, his eyes narrow slightly, and he turns away.
Oh, Christ, he thinks he’s subtle, but I get it. Here we are in the middle of a battle, and he’s got time for a territorial battle. Why am I even surprised? You think my feelings about Daniel are weird? After Daniel ascended, Jack, Sam and Teal’c were required to undergo counseling, and Dr. Robinette reported her six-month conclusions about their recovery to General Hammond and me. Her notes on Jack were so bizarre I read them repeatedly until I accidentally memorized them:
Colonel O’Neill derives comfort from the belief that Dr. Jackson still exists in some form, which is not inappropriate given what we understand of Dr. Jackson’s situation. However, while Major Carter and Teal’c have gradually come to accept they may never see Dr. Jackson again, O’Neill keeps cycling between optimism and despair, though he hides both well. I can only speculate that, rather than accept Dr. Jackson’s absence, he is struggling to maintain faith that he will encounter Jackson again someday.
Yeah. Faith.
I know - at first I didn’t buy it either. Jack O’Neill isn’t big on believing in things that aren’t proven. But the more I thought about it, what’s proven itself more than this friendship? Somehow, Daniel always comes back to him - from across the universe, from certain death, from addiction… not only does he always survive, he always comes back to Jack. I guess it’s not just anyone you can appear to in a mystic vision and ask to pull the plug so you can die and ascend, is it?
Oh, Colonel, you have nothing to worry about. I glance over at Daniel to see him frowning at O’Neill in what can only be politely described as an insubordinate manner. O’Neill shoots him another glare - more playful than serious this time. Daniel finally closes his eyes disdainfully and turns back to me. My god, I wouldn’t have thought they carried on like this on the battlefield, too.
Major Coker’s noticing it, too. So are Garvey and Wyn. They’ve been watching the legendary O’Neill every chance they get since we came through the gate. Coker looks amused. Garvey’s poker face gives nothing away. Wyn has that slightly disturbed look I know all too well - she’s grew up in a very repressive Pentecostal town, so anytime she sees two people demonstrating they have history, she assumes it’s a sexual history. She blinks the expression away after a second, though. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand there’s more than one kind of intimacy.
“Apparently, Sam managed to radio the SGC and explain the situation,” Daniel informs me. “Reinforcements should be coming through the gate in about eight minutes… with some very heavy weaponry.”
I blink stupidly at him, then at the Colonel, then Daniel again. “You got all that from shooting each other funny looks?”
He has the decency to look embarrassed for half a second before covering it up with one of his innocent looks. “Uh, no, he told me that a few minutes ago, while you were looking after Lieutenant Devin.”
“Ah,” I say, feeling silly. Of course.
“What’s the heavy weaponry?” Captain Wyn asks curiously. There’s no scorn hidden in her expression as she talks to him, so I guess she’s gotten over her initial suspicion. Good for her.
“It’s a two stage deal,” Daniel explains. “First, the SGC is going to open the gate and toss through some Goa’uld shock grenades to knock out the Jaffa, while our people rush the Jaffa from this side to make sure they’re clear.”
“And the al’kesh?” I ask at the same time as Lieutenant Garvey asks -
“Are we all going to rush them?”
Daniel shakes his head at Garvey then looks at me again. “Our reinforcements are coming through with missile launchers.”
Garvey whistles.
Okay, I know we have portable missile launchers that are pretty damn powerful, but enough to take out an al’kesh? “How sure are we this is going to work?”
“Sam’s confident,” he answers, making reassuring eye contact with the medics as well as me. “The real trick will be firing on the al’kesh before it fires on us. Since the gate’s in a cavern, the al’kesh can’t just pick our people off when they first step through. But once they break cover, it’s a race to see who fires first. We just need to stay put until Jack radios the all-clear.”
“We?” I ask. “You’re not going with them?”
He frowns slightly. “No, I’d just get in the way.”
I smirk at him. “You certainly weren’t in the way a few minutes ago.”
Garvey and Wyn seem to lose interest in the conversation - they start talking quietly and watching O’Neill again. I guess they didn’t get a good look at Daniel’s field competency, since he wasn’t babysitting them.
Daniel’s frown deepens for a second, as if he has to translate what I said into another language, and then his expression clears. “Yes, well, over the years I have picked up skills like running for my life and firing bullets haphazardly to confuse the enemy. Rushing a group of highly trained Jaffa, however, is a little different.”
“How?” I ask. My inner clock nudges me to lean over to check Devin’s breathing - still slow and steady. That’s good.
“Well,” Daniel says thoughtfully, “it’s a bit like handling a patient who’s coding. You and the nurses are yelling all this abbreviated information back and forth, and you take appropriate action almost instantly without having to think about it. If we’re in the middle of a gun fight and Sam yells ‘Nine o’clock!’ at me, I’m going to have to stop and think which direction that is.”
I chuckle at that. Then I wonder why, because it wasn’t funny. But Daniel’s smiling back at me. “If you say so,” I concede.
“Ask Jack if you don’t believe me,” he replies dryly.
“Ask me what?”
We both look up to see the colonel standing a few feet away, looking genuinely interested to hear what we’re talking about. I really don’t want him to hear anything that conveys how militarily outclassed I’m feeling by a guy who gently brushes sand off of rocks for a living.
“Janet was asking why I’m staying here while you guys rush the Jaffa,” Daniel explained smoothly. “I was explaining that I wouldn’t be of much use in a gun fight requiring military precision.”
“Ah,” O’Neill says, looking off to the side for a few seconds, which I believe means he’s not sure how to respond. “Well, I’m not much use in a situation that requires speaking in Russian, Daniel. What’s your point?”
Daniel does one of his rapid-cycling facial expression series: a surprised frown, followed by an eyebrow lift, followed by a confused frown. “Guess I didn’t have one, really.”
“Sir,” comes Sam’s voice over Jack’s radio, “five minutes until reinforcements arrive. Recommend we move out.”
Jack’s already jogging toward the entrance of the cave, as are the only two members of SG-9 still in here, before she even finishes. I guess Sam and Teal’c must have gone back outside a couple of minutes ago. I didn’t notice. Garvey and Wyn stop talking.
Total silence. It hits me: our people have five minutes to get to the stargate without getting shot down by the al’kesh. There, they’ll get into a firefight with Jaffa… “Wait. Daniel, how are they going to get past the Jaffa and the al’kesh?” I ask it softly, so the medics won’t hear.
“Oh,” he says mildly. “The Jaffa all went back to secure the gate, figuring we have to show up there sooner or later. The al’kesh is there, too. They just have to take cover along the perimeter and wait.”
I frown. “But isn’t it possible they’ll leave behind one or two Jaffa, along the way?”
He cocks his head to one side. “It’s possible. But Jack will look out for that.”
I’ve got about a dozen more questions, but I realize how ridiculous it is to assume there’s anything I could think of that Colonel O’Neill won’t already have considered, so I just sigh. “This doesn’t seem like much of a plan to me.”
Daniel chuckles silently. “You know, most of our plans scare the hell out of me.”
I want to laugh out loud, but I don’t dare risk the possibility of giving away our position, so I stifle it to a chuckle. “So it’s not just me!”
“God, no,” he assures me. “But Jack’s attitude is always we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I get the feeling he had to make it up as he went along on a regular basis when he was with Special Operations.”
“Oh, you’re right about that,” I say. “The very nature of many special operations is going into compromised situations you don’t know enough about, without the equipment and artillery you need. SG-1 probably feels like a luxury assignment to him.” I don’t mention that the colonel’s injuries from those years make his medical file the same kind of bedtime reading as a Stephen King book. “But he survived.”
“That’s the thing to keep in mind,” Daniel agrees.
Devin moans and I reach over to check his pulse and breathing and make sure he’s not waking up. It’ll be easier for him if he stays unconscious at this point. “Same as before. I just don’t know how the trip back to the gate’s going to affect him.”
Daniel shrugs. “At least we won’t have to jog or dodge fire on the way back. We can take our time, once they’ve cleared the way.” He checks his watch, and his face tightens just a little, mostly around the eyes. God, it’s an expression that reminds me of Colonel O’Neill.
And I know what it means. “It’s been five minutes.”
He nods. “Everybody should be at the gate now.”
I nod in response. “And when they’re done, the colonel will let us know.”
He nods again. He glances at me, but doesn’t even attempt a reassuring smile. I’m reminded of that week after his appendicitis, when there was no way of knowing if the rest of SG-1 had made it off Thor’s ship. We never said I’m sure they’re okay. We just worried together.
Now we wait.
I thought battle was bad, but this is worse in the same way that waiting to see if someone comes out of a coma is worse than handling an emergency. When you need to do something extraordinary, your brain sends you a shot of adrenaline to help you succeed. There is no hormone to help you get through times when there’s nothing you can do. You just endure.
The only sound is Lieutenant Devin breathing softly. Garvey and Wyn stare fixedly into space.
Suddenly there’s a burst of static from Daniel’s radio, and then a voice I don’t recognize speaks over it, “Stargate is not secure, I repeat...” The message dissolves into static. More weapons firing.
“Heinrich, two Jaffa on your…” That’s Colonel O’Neill, also going staticky. Must be something in the cave interfering with the radios.
“I eliminated one, O’Neill.” Teal’c, of course.
“I got number two,” comes another voice I can’t identify.
“…all clear…” comes O’Neill’s voice again.
The radios go silent for a few seconds.
We hear the al’kesh engines revving up - and not over the radio. Daniel’s frowning worriedly, and I’m sure I am too. We hear three loud explosions. Then the whine of an aircraft descending too fast, followed by a crash.
Seconds pass. I don’t know how many of them - probably ten or so.
“Daniel, you’re all…” comes O’Neill’s voice over the radio. “Meet us...”
“Say again?” Daniel speaks into the radio.
“You’re clear,” Jack enunciates carefully. “Meet us at the gate.”
“Copy that,” Daniel responds. “We’ll be a few minutes. We want to carry Lieutenant Devin carefully.”
“Take your time,” O’Neill replies.
Garvey and Wyn are already lifting the stretcher. Daniel grabs the cooler and a couple of other bits of equipment somebody left behind. There’s nothing left for me to carry as we make our way outside.
Outside, the planet looks peaceful, like a big surreal battle didn’t just happen. We move in silence for a minute or so. Devin’s still out cold.
Sam appears from around a bend - she’s come back to meet us. I don’t know if she thought we’d get lost, or just wanted to be helpful. She takes hold of some of the stuff Daniel’s carrying.
“So,” Sam says to Daniel, “are you going this time?” I have no idea; they must be picking up a conversation from before the battle. They’re probably so used to it, they just come right back to whatever they were saying when they were so rudely interrupted by Jaffa shooting at them.
“Yeah,” he says in a puzzled tone, as if he can’t imagine any other answer.
Sam laughs silently. “You’re a brave man, Daniel.”
He frowns, looking more confused than ever. “I know you and Teal’c have some big aversion to it, but what’s that about, anyway?”
“Oh, giant mosquitoes for one,” she says with a grin. “Sitting in one spot all day. And only the Colonel for company.” She shudders. Ah - now I know what they’re talking about: the infamous fishing trip invitations. The last time, Jack even invited me, for heaven’s sake. I used Cassie as an excuse and countered with an invitation to her high school hockey game, which he unexpectedly accepted. We actually had a really good time, the three of us. But a whole weekend of Jack O’Neill?
“You’ve never been,” Daniel points out.
“He only asks me because he knows I’ll turn him down,” Sam replies.
“Ah,” Daniel says, more out of politeness, I suspect, than comprehension. “Well, I enjoyed it the last time I went, and I expect I’ll enjoy it again.”
Sam narrows her eyes. “When did you go?”
“Last year, right after the deal with the inter-dimensional bugs,” he replies without a second thought.
I feel a shiver down my spine. Sam and I exchange a glance to make sure - yep, she’s just as unnerved as I am.
“Daniel,” she says softly, “you weren’t, uh… with us just then. You were ascended.”
His face goes completely blank and he comes to a halt. He looks past Sam, not making eye contact, as he asks, “But there was a fishing trip.”
Sam nods. “Yeah, right after the inter-dimensional bug incident, like you said. Just the Colonel all by himself.”
“And I was ascended.” He’s still not looking at her.
“Yeah.”
He sighs. “So that’s why the mosquitoes left me alone.” He starts walking again.
I can’t keep from laughing. Poor Daniel. This isn’t the first time he’s accidentally outted something odd he did while ascended. I don’t know how he stands it.
Sam hides a grin and shoots him a mock glare instead. “Daniel, tell me you didn’t spend your time as an ascended being fishing with Colonel O’Neill.”
“Damned if I know,” he replies bluntly. “I’m just as shocked and appalled as you are by this revelation.”
Sam chuckles and pats him on the back.
“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I do remember dropping by your house a couple of times.”
She tries to play it off with a casual smile, but it matters to her that he visited. She’s practically glowing.
Oh, lord. I don’t even want to know if he visited Cassie and me. It’s touching if he did, but it really gives me the willies to think of someone watching me when I didn’t know it.
We come to the crash site before reaching the stargate. The a’lkesh is laying in pieces all over a field. Several of our personnel are going over the wreckage, looking to make sure no one survived, I guess. Or maybe looking for technology to salvage? I see Teal’c and Major Coker prying loose one of the al’kesh’s cannons. Yeah, now I see Merchant’s filling a sack with… stuff. I can’t see the items from here.
“Daniel, you wanna dial it up for them?” comes Jack’s voice from somewhere off to my left. “Doc, tell them we’ll be along in a few.”
Daniel walks over to the DHD and starts punching buttons. The gate activates and the medics and I start moving toward the wormhole with our patient. Daniel punches in his GDO code, and that’s it. We walk through the gate and come out in the gateroom.
At the bottom of the ramp, General Hammond looks like a burden’s just floated up off his shoulders. “Welcome back, Doctor.”
CATEGORY: Humor, character study, gen (though you could definitely read J/D into it if you want, as is so often the case with mine)
SPOILERS: Anything through S7.
WARNINGS: None. Except it's first person, present tense, which may bug some people.
RATING: PG
COMPLETED: March 20, 2009
BETA: paian , without whom this would not have made as much sense.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Before Heroes aired, I had been toying with the idea of this story in which Janet gets caught in a battle situation with SG-1 during S7, told from her perspective. Heroes kind of ruined it for me, but after a couple of years away from the show, I found I still wanted to tell this story. IMO, it works best if your personal canon does not include Heroes and the loss of Janet Frasier.
God, it’s loud. And I’m shaking.
I open my mouth to ask Teal’c if Lieutenant Devin has shown any sign of consciousness since-
Something hits my back, then the fabric of my jacket bunches and pulls - it’s a hand on me, oh god - and I’m losing my balance, toppling face foward onto the dirt. Warm weight lands half on top of me, all along my left side, and a hand touches ground on the other side of my head. It’s a man (ah, so I do remember that feeling, though never quite like this). I feel lips and the tip of a nose bump against the back of my head, and he exhales loudly, tickling my scalp with warm moist breath.
An ungodly blast seems to knock the ground out from under us, and it feels like stepping off a stair you didn’t realize was there. But then the shockwave passes, and the ground is still beneath us.
He lifts his head from mine. “You okay?” he yells through the din of the al’kesh engines, so close I can feel his breath again, this time against my ear.
I want to scream I’m being babysat by a civilian, how do you think I’m doing? But that would just be the adrenaline talking. Truth is, I’m scared silly. Anyway, there isn’t time to talk before he’s grabbing me by the jacket again, hauling me up from the ground, and we’re running again.
And would it be realistic to call Daniel a civilian, anyway - anymore? Certainly not since he died - really died - and came back.
He keeps his hand on my back. He is babysitting me, goddamit. He’s looking out for me so the real Air Force officers can do their jobs without getting distracted.
And that’s just the thing. Like all Air Force medical personnel, I keep up my training enough not to be a liability in the field, but it’s not my job to be chased by an alkesh and a platoon of Jaffa. In fact, those particular items weren’t even on today’s menu, and had Colonel O'Neill had the slightest indication they would show up, he’d never have called me through the gate. I’m not required to be proficient at this. Then again, neither is Daniel, but he seems to be doing just fine.
Oh, what the hell. It may be the only chance he ever has to return all the favors he thinks he owes me for patching him up time and again.
Suddenly, he shoves me away and I turn to see what’s going on. He’s got Lieutenant Devin’s P-90, and he and Sam are providing cover fire. Daniel looks like he does this every day, and now I’m really embarrassed - or would be, if I weren’t so busy being terrified. More bullets are stirring up dirt than hitting Jaffa, but it gives Colonel O'Neill, Teal’c, and Major Coker (yes, his title and name have been the source of some god-awful jokes around the SGC) time to drag the other three members of SG-9 toward... where are we going?
“Go!” Daniel screams at me over the gunfire. I obey automatically, only belatedly realizing I just took an order from Daniel - and he sounded as scary as O’Neill on a bad day. Daniel, the misplaced museum curator, my best and worst patient, the man who can have a barbarous hostile alien eating out of his hand - literally - in two days flat or your money back. I wonder, how did I not know he had this in him?
We’re moving into a cave. How are the Jaffa supposed to miss this big gaping entrance? But Colonel O'Neill looks relaxed, and Colonel O'Neill should have died at least twenty chilling times that I can count from his medical file alone. If he says we’re safe, I’ll accept it.
Teal’c has hauled Devin in here in a fireman’s carry, and now he’s heading further back into the cave. Lieutenant Garvin and Captain Wyn, my medics, follow him with a stretcher.
My instincts kick back in, and I jog over to join them. My comfort zone may be temporarily enveloped in a war zone, but it’s still where I’m at home. “Did he regain consciousness at any point?” I ask Teal’c.
My medics lay down the stretcher where he indicated, and he very gently deposits Devin on it. Then he backs away to give us space. “He did not,” Teal’c answers.
I’m checking Devin’s pulse when I realize I don’t know where the cooler with the type A blood got to - the blood I brought when O’Neill radioed the SGC to let us know Lieutenant Devin had taken a bad fall into a ravine and was losing a lot of blood, before anyone had the slightest idea some Jaffa would coincidentally show up ten seconds after I’d finished slapping on the organic bandage from Area 51.
“Thanks,” Garvey says, and I see Sam handing her the cooler.
“Thank you, Sam,” I say in a very sober tone. “I don’t know how you kept up with this, but it might just save Devin’s life.” Garvey’s already prepping Devin, and I’m pulling the bag of blood out of the cooler.
Wyn lifts Devin’s t-shirt, and we see clean white bandages. “It’s not bleeding through,” she says in a hopeful tone.
I nod. “In all our trials, the organic bandage immediately adhered to the skin, sealed the wound, and started making repairs. Within a few days, it melts into the skin like it was never there.” Unless he’s got an internal injury we missed, of course. I don’t say that out loud.
As we hook Devin up, I hear Daniel’s voice again, talking quietly to O'Neill over near the mouth of the cave. We get the IV in, and that’s it for now.
I catch the colonel’s eye and give him a concerned look. Even with a field transfusion and the miracle bandage, I’m not sure how long Devin’s got. He’s lost a lot of blood. What if he does have internal injuries? What if he has an allergic reaction to the bandage?
The colonel nods, understanding. Now Sam is talking to him, and I see Coker over by Merchant. Gang’s all here. But what are we-
“We’ve got a plan,” Colonel O'Neill announces suddenly, startling me a little. “We should be back through the gate in thirty minutes.”
They’ve got a plan to take out an al’kesh and about twelve Jaffa on the ground? I know better than to ask. Devin might actually hold out thirty minutes. I make eye contact with Garvey, who also manages to look hopeful.
“Anything I can do?” That’s Daniel, crouching across from me on Devin’s other side.
I shake my head. There’s nothing more any of us can do.
Cassie has a piano recital tonight, some part of my brain reminds me. I can’t miss it; she’d be crushed.
The more rational part of my brain points out that what I should be worrying about is the possibility of never seeing Cassie again. Then I decide it’s better to worry about the recital.
Daniel walks around Devin, all the way to my other side, and sits against the cave wall, knees drawn up. He tilts his head significantly toward the patch of wall between him and Devin, and I realize I’m about to start trembling from the adrenaline letdown. Maybe he’s got a good idea. I sit down between my patient and Daniel, and lean back against the wall. I take a deep breath.
Garvey and Wyn sit down a few yards away to chat quietly. They went through the Academy together and haven’t been out of it that long, so they’ll probably look on this as a new adventure to share. Wish I could.
Daniel bumps my shoulder with his, a friendly support gesture. I turn, and he’s giving me a little smile. Is he trying to cheer me up? Hell, I’m completely numb.
He leans toward me, conspiratorially, and stage whispers, “Next time we ask the general to have you join us off-world, I swear it’s going to be because we’ve found a nice beach.”
My shoulders quake. It’s not much of a laugh, but he gets it. “You didn’t know the Jaffa were coming.”
“No, but after all these years, you’d think we’d have learned it’s impossible to conduct a simple archeological survey without getting attacked by somebody,” he quips. He shifts on the hard ground, removing his glasses to rub his eyes, and his thigh brushes against mine just for a second, bringing a welcome warm rush of feeling to me. Not that kind of feeling - although if it had been, it certainly would have been understandable as a one-time wild-haired reaction to peril. But as attractive as Daniel is - as a lot of the men under my care are - the relationship I have with my patients’ bodies is even more intimate than a sexual one. I’m too aware of their fragile points, of what aches in cold weather and why, too used to handling them gently to imagine having carefree passionate sex with them.
No, the charge I get from touching Daniel is different. It may sound silly, but even after all these months, I still feel awe every time I experience any physical contact with him. I mean, I bandaged this body as it disintegrated from radiation poisoning. I pumped morphine into it, and abstractly considered pumping a bit too much to end his suffering. I watched it turn into glowing energy so there wasn’t even anything for us to bury. I mourned him. I missed having this particular body to examine and repair and look after, missed this brain that wove arguments like a silk parachute around me when its owner didn’t like my advice.
And now here it is, back in my care, whole and intact. Not exactly as if nothing happened - he seems more at peace than he did before he ascended. I think the Daniel we lost didn’t think we’d miss him all that much. This Daniel seems to have an inkling of just how much he was missed, and he takes it in stride.
Of course, last week he took having twelve extra people living in his head in stride. I don’t even want to think about the implications of that.
I realize suddenly that we’re making eye contact, and have been the whole time I’ve been thinking about all this. I think it was just a few seconds, but I’m not really sure. His expression is inquisitive, and at first I think he's going to ask me a difficult question - but, no. I know that look. That’s the look a commanding officer gets when he’s trying to assess if someone under his command is coping under pressure.
Embarrassed, I break the stare and look around for somewhere else to point my eyes, only to find Colonel O'Neill standing a few yards away, talking to Teal’c, but looking at me with a thoughtful expression. At first I think it’s the same look Daniel was giving me, but this is more of a frown. Almost a glare. Then he glances at Daniel, his eyes narrow slightly, and he turns away.
Oh, Christ, he thinks he’s subtle, but I get it. Here we are in the middle of a battle, and he’s got time for a territorial battle. Why am I even surprised? You think my feelings about Daniel are weird? After Daniel ascended, Jack, Sam and Teal’c were required to undergo counseling, and Dr. Robinette reported her six-month conclusions about their recovery to General Hammond and me. Her notes on Jack were so bizarre I read them repeatedly until I accidentally memorized them:
Colonel O’Neill derives comfort from the belief that Dr. Jackson still exists in some form, which is not inappropriate given what we understand of Dr. Jackson’s situation. However, while Major Carter and Teal’c have gradually come to accept they may never see Dr. Jackson again, O’Neill keeps cycling between optimism and despair, though he hides both well. I can only speculate that, rather than accept Dr. Jackson’s absence, he is struggling to maintain faith that he will encounter Jackson again someday.
Yeah. Faith.
I know - at first I didn’t buy it either. Jack O’Neill isn’t big on believing in things that aren’t proven. But the more I thought about it, what’s proven itself more than this friendship? Somehow, Daniel always comes back to him - from across the universe, from certain death, from addiction… not only does he always survive, he always comes back to Jack. I guess it’s not just anyone you can appear to in a mystic vision and ask to pull the plug so you can die and ascend, is it?
Oh, Colonel, you have nothing to worry about. I glance over at Daniel to see him frowning at O’Neill in what can only be politely described as an insubordinate manner. O’Neill shoots him another glare - more playful than serious this time. Daniel finally closes his eyes disdainfully and turns back to me. My god, I wouldn’t have thought they carried on like this on the battlefield, too.
Major Coker’s noticing it, too. So are Garvey and Wyn. They’ve been watching the legendary O’Neill every chance they get since we came through the gate. Coker looks amused. Garvey’s poker face gives nothing away. Wyn has that slightly disturbed look I know all too well - she’s grew up in a very repressive Pentecostal town, so anytime she sees two people demonstrating they have history, she assumes it’s a sexual history. She blinks the expression away after a second, though. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand there’s more than one kind of intimacy.
“Apparently, Sam managed to radio the SGC and explain the situation,” Daniel informs me. “Reinforcements should be coming through the gate in about eight minutes… with some very heavy weaponry.”
I blink stupidly at him, then at the Colonel, then Daniel again. “You got all that from shooting each other funny looks?”
He has the decency to look embarrassed for half a second before covering it up with one of his innocent looks. “Uh, no, he told me that a few minutes ago, while you were looking after Lieutenant Devin.”
“Ah,” I say, feeling silly. Of course.
“What’s the heavy weaponry?” Captain Wyn asks curiously. There’s no scorn hidden in her expression as she talks to him, so I guess she’s gotten over her initial suspicion. Good for her.
“It’s a two stage deal,” Daniel explains. “First, the SGC is going to open the gate and toss through some Goa’uld shock grenades to knock out the Jaffa, while our people rush the Jaffa from this side to make sure they’re clear.”
“And the al’kesh?” I ask at the same time as Lieutenant Garvey asks -
“Are we all going to rush them?”
Daniel shakes his head at Garvey then looks at me again. “Our reinforcements are coming through with missile launchers.”
Garvey whistles.
Okay, I know we have portable missile launchers that are pretty damn powerful, but enough to take out an al’kesh? “How sure are we this is going to work?”
“Sam’s confident,” he answers, making reassuring eye contact with the medics as well as me. “The real trick will be firing on the al’kesh before it fires on us. Since the gate’s in a cavern, the al’kesh can’t just pick our people off when they first step through. But once they break cover, it’s a race to see who fires first. We just need to stay put until Jack radios the all-clear.”
“We?” I ask. “You’re not going with them?”
He frowns slightly. “No, I’d just get in the way.”
I smirk at him. “You certainly weren’t in the way a few minutes ago.”
Garvey and Wyn seem to lose interest in the conversation - they start talking quietly and watching O’Neill again. I guess they didn’t get a good look at Daniel’s field competency, since he wasn’t babysitting them.
Daniel’s frown deepens for a second, as if he has to translate what I said into another language, and then his expression clears. “Yes, well, over the years I have picked up skills like running for my life and firing bullets haphazardly to confuse the enemy. Rushing a group of highly trained Jaffa, however, is a little different.”
“How?” I ask. My inner clock nudges me to lean over to check Devin’s breathing - still slow and steady. That’s good.
“Well,” Daniel says thoughtfully, “it’s a bit like handling a patient who’s coding. You and the nurses are yelling all this abbreviated information back and forth, and you take appropriate action almost instantly without having to think about it. If we’re in the middle of a gun fight and Sam yells ‘Nine o’clock!’ at me, I’m going to have to stop and think which direction that is.”
I chuckle at that. Then I wonder why, because it wasn’t funny. But Daniel’s smiling back at me. “If you say so,” I concede.
“Ask Jack if you don’t believe me,” he replies dryly.
“Ask me what?”
We both look up to see the colonel standing a few feet away, looking genuinely interested to hear what we’re talking about. I really don’t want him to hear anything that conveys how militarily outclassed I’m feeling by a guy who gently brushes sand off of rocks for a living.
“Janet was asking why I’m staying here while you guys rush the Jaffa,” Daniel explained smoothly. “I was explaining that I wouldn’t be of much use in a gun fight requiring military precision.”
“Ah,” O’Neill says, looking off to the side for a few seconds, which I believe means he’s not sure how to respond. “Well, I’m not much use in a situation that requires speaking in Russian, Daniel. What’s your point?”
Daniel does one of his rapid-cycling facial expression series: a surprised frown, followed by an eyebrow lift, followed by a confused frown. “Guess I didn’t have one, really.”
“Sir,” comes Sam’s voice over Jack’s radio, “five minutes until reinforcements arrive. Recommend we move out.”
Jack’s already jogging toward the entrance of the cave, as are the only two members of SG-9 still in here, before she even finishes. I guess Sam and Teal’c must have gone back outside a couple of minutes ago. I didn’t notice. Garvey and Wyn stop talking.
Total silence. It hits me: our people have five minutes to get to the stargate without getting shot down by the al’kesh. There, they’ll get into a firefight with Jaffa… “Wait. Daniel, how are they going to get past the Jaffa and the al’kesh?” I ask it softly, so the medics won’t hear.
“Oh,” he says mildly. “The Jaffa all went back to secure the gate, figuring we have to show up there sooner or later. The al’kesh is there, too. They just have to take cover along the perimeter and wait.”
I frown. “But isn’t it possible they’ll leave behind one or two Jaffa, along the way?”
He cocks his head to one side. “It’s possible. But Jack will look out for that.”
I’ve got about a dozen more questions, but I realize how ridiculous it is to assume there’s anything I could think of that Colonel O’Neill won’t already have considered, so I just sigh. “This doesn’t seem like much of a plan to me.”
Daniel chuckles silently. “You know, most of our plans scare the hell out of me.”
I want to laugh out loud, but I don’t dare risk the possibility of giving away our position, so I stifle it to a chuckle. “So it’s not just me!”
“God, no,” he assures me. “But Jack’s attitude is always we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I get the feeling he had to make it up as he went along on a regular basis when he was with Special Operations.”
“Oh, you’re right about that,” I say. “The very nature of many special operations is going into compromised situations you don’t know enough about, without the equipment and artillery you need. SG-1 probably feels like a luxury assignment to him.” I don’t mention that the colonel’s injuries from those years make his medical file the same kind of bedtime reading as a Stephen King book. “But he survived.”
“That’s the thing to keep in mind,” Daniel agrees.
Devin moans and I reach over to check his pulse and breathing and make sure he’s not waking up. It’ll be easier for him if he stays unconscious at this point. “Same as before. I just don’t know how the trip back to the gate’s going to affect him.”
Daniel shrugs. “At least we won’t have to jog or dodge fire on the way back. We can take our time, once they’ve cleared the way.” He checks his watch, and his face tightens just a little, mostly around the eyes. God, it’s an expression that reminds me of Colonel O’Neill.
And I know what it means. “It’s been five minutes.”
He nods. “Everybody should be at the gate now.”
I nod in response. “And when they’re done, the colonel will let us know.”
He nods again. He glances at me, but doesn’t even attempt a reassuring smile. I’m reminded of that week after his appendicitis, when there was no way of knowing if the rest of SG-1 had made it off Thor’s ship. We never said I’m sure they’re okay. We just worried together.
Now we wait.
I thought battle was bad, but this is worse in the same way that waiting to see if someone comes out of a coma is worse than handling an emergency. When you need to do something extraordinary, your brain sends you a shot of adrenaline to help you succeed. There is no hormone to help you get through times when there’s nothing you can do. You just endure.
The only sound is Lieutenant Devin breathing softly. Garvey and Wyn stare fixedly into space.
Suddenly there’s a burst of static from Daniel’s radio, and then a voice I don’t recognize speaks over it, “Stargate is not secure, I repeat...” The message dissolves into static. More weapons firing.
“Heinrich, two Jaffa on your…” That’s Colonel O’Neill, also going staticky. Must be something in the cave interfering with the radios.
“I eliminated one, O’Neill.” Teal’c, of course.
“I got number two,” comes another voice I can’t identify.
“…all clear…” comes O’Neill’s voice again.
The radios go silent for a few seconds.
We hear the al’kesh engines revving up - and not over the radio. Daniel’s frowning worriedly, and I’m sure I am too. We hear three loud explosions. Then the whine of an aircraft descending too fast, followed by a crash.
Seconds pass. I don’t know how many of them - probably ten or so.
“Daniel, you’re all…” comes O’Neill’s voice over the radio. “Meet us...”
“Say again?” Daniel speaks into the radio.
“You’re clear,” Jack enunciates carefully. “Meet us at the gate.”
“Copy that,” Daniel responds. “We’ll be a few minutes. We want to carry Lieutenant Devin carefully.”
“Take your time,” O’Neill replies.
Garvey and Wyn are already lifting the stretcher. Daniel grabs the cooler and a couple of other bits of equipment somebody left behind. There’s nothing left for me to carry as we make our way outside.
Outside, the planet looks peaceful, like a big surreal battle didn’t just happen. We move in silence for a minute or so. Devin’s still out cold.
Sam appears from around a bend - she’s come back to meet us. I don’t know if she thought we’d get lost, or just wanted to be helpful. She takes hold of some of the stuff Daniel’s carrying.
“So,” Sam says to Daniel, “are you going this time?” I have no idea; they must be picking up a conversation from before the battle. They’re probably so used to it, they just come right back to whatever they were saying when they were so rudely interrupted by Jaffa shooting at them.
“Yeah,” he says in a puzzled tone, as if he can’t imagine any other answer.
Sam laughs silently. “You’re a brave man, Daniel.”
He frowns, looking more confused than ever. “I know you and Teal’c have some big aversion to it, but what’s that about, anyway?”
“Oh, giant mosquitoes for one,” she says with a grin. “Sitting in one spot all day. And only the Colonel for company.” She shudders. Ah - now I know what they’re talking about: the infamous fishing trip invitations. The last time, Jack even invited me, for heaven’s sake. I used Cassie as an excuse and countered with an invitation to her high school hockey game, which he unexpectedly accepted. We actually had a really good time, the three of us. But a whole weekend of Jack O’Neill?
“You’ve never been,” Daniel points out.
“He only asks me because he knows I’ll turn him down,” Sam replies.
“Ah,” Daniel says, more out of politeness, I suspect, than comprehension. “Well, I enjoyed it the last time I went, and I expect I’ll enjoy it again.”
Sam narrows her eyes. “When did you go?”
“Last year, right after the deal with the inter-dimensional bugs,” he replies without a second thought.
I feel a shiver down my spine. Sam and I exchange a glance to make sure - yep, she’s just as unnerved as I am.
“Daniel,” she says softly, “you weren’t, uh… with us just then. You were ascended.”
His face goes completely blank and he comes to a halt. He looks past Sam, not making eye contact, as he asks, “But there was a fishing trip.”
Sam nods. “Yeah, right after the inter-dimensional bug incident, like you said. Just the Colonel all by himself.”
“And I was ascended.” He’s still not looking at her.
“Yeah.”
He sighs. “So that’s why the mosquitoes left me alone.” He starts walking again.
I can’t keep from laughing. Poor Daniel. This isn’t the first time he’s accidentally outted something odd he did while ascended. I don’t know how he stands it.
Sam hides a grin and shoots him a mock glare instead. “Daniel, tell me you didn’t spend your time as an ascended being fishing with Colonel O’Neill.”
“Damned if I know,” he replies bluntly. “I’m just as shocked and appalled as you are by this revelation.”
Sam chuckles and pats him on the back.
“For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I do remember dropping by your house a couple of times.”
She tries to play it off with a casual smile, but it matters to her that he visited. She’s practically glowing.
Oh, lord. I don’t even want to know if he visited Cassie and me. It’s touching if he did, but it really gives me the willies to think of someone watching me when I didn’t know it.
We come to the crash site before reaching the stargate. The a’lkesh is laying in pieces all over a field. Several of our personnel are going over the wreckage, looking to make sure no one survived, I guess. Or maybe looking for technology to salvage? I see Teal’c and Major Coker prying loose one of the al’kesh’s cannons. Yeah, now I see Merchant’s filling a sack with… stuff. I can’t see the items from here.
“Daniel, you wanna dial it up for them?” comes Jack’s voice from somewhere off to my left. “Doc, tell them we’ll be along in a few.”
Daniel walks over to the DHD and starts punching buttons. The gate activates and the medics and I start moving toward the wormhole with our patient. Daniel punches in his GDO code, and that’s it. We walk through the gate and come out in the gateroom.
At the bottom of the ramp, General Hammond looks like a burden’s just floated up off his shoulders. “Welcome back, Doctor.”