Notes:Once again, this is unbeta'd; all mistakes are mine.

Sunday

Daniel rolled over in his bed in Sam's spare room, sparing a glance at the clock on the bedside table. 9:43. If he lay there quietly, on his back, not breathing, not making a sound, he could hear Sam down the hall, puttering about the kitchen, running water, clinking dishes. For the past few days those sounds had meant home to Daniel, had been safe and familiar, but after the night of sleep--or rather, no sleep--he'd had the night before, they weren't the welcoming sounds of a home, but an oppressive ruckus that had chased him out of his nightmares.

Daniel had never had many nightmares--a few on the nights his daddy told him stories about haunted tombs and evil mummies, but his mommy always made him feel better; checking under his bed, in all the dark corners, and leaving the small lamp on by Daniel's bed. She always knew how to chase the bad things away.

Here, though, he'd startled himself awake to find himself alone in the spare room at Sam's house, surrounded by the new toys and furniture Sam had bought him, the sunlight streaming in through the partially open curtains. As his breathing returned to normal, Daniel didn't want to stay in bed anymore. He wanted to get up. He decided he wanted a hug--and he wanted one now.

He pushed back the light sheet covering him--even early in the morning it was warm; August was always one of the hottest months, even back in Egypt--and slipped out of bed, adjusting the right leg of his thin pajamas, which had ridden up as he'd twisted and turned to escape the dream. 'Just a dream,' he silently soothed himself and his tattered nerves, repeating the mantra mommy and daddy had taught him. 'Dreams can't follow you when you're awake; they're only strong when it's dark and when you let them in.' Daniel pulled open the bedroom door and padded down the hall, poking his head around the corner to see Sam walk between the living room and the kitchen. Something inside him deflated, and he was surprised at himself. He'd been living at Sam's for days now; he was used to waking up to finding her doing chores, and the like...but today he wanted something different. He wrapped his arms around his own chest and squeezed, remembering how good it had felt when Jack had picked him up when he was sleepy yesterday. He hadn't said anything when Daniel had hung on and tucked his head under Jack's chin; he just carried him and carried him, and then he had shaken Daniel awake hours later when supper was ready. That had felt good. Daniel had felt so safe, and he wondered why he'd ever think Jack was mad at him...but then Jack had gotten mad; really mad, at Sam and at him--he'd yelled. Mommy and daddy only ever yelled when they were really angry, and that didn't happen very often. To be honest, Jack had scared him, and then Sam had pulled him out of Jack's house and into the car, and now Daniel didn't think he'd ever see Jack again.

Not that Jack would care now, Daniel thought miserably, because he'd told Sam that Daniel couldn't come back to visit. The boy at the park had been right; Jack was only a babysitter, doing what he had to do and then sending Daniel home when he'd gotten tired of him.

Daniel sniffled back the burning feeling that was spreading from the backs of his eyes down the bridge of his nose, rubbing a fist hastily under his nose to try and stop the itchy discomfort. "Hey, good morning. You're up early."

Daniel looked up to find Sam coming toward him, a small smile on her face, and he braved a tiny smile for her. "Uh-huh."

"I'm making bacon and eggs--I don't make them very often and they might not be very good, but do you wanna try 'em?" she cajoled.

He didn't, really. He didn't feel very hungry this morning; the very thought of bacon and eggs was making his stomach turn. But he didn't want Sam to know he was sad--she'd be angry at him if she found out why he hadn't come out to the kitchen on his own yet--so he smiled a little wider and nodded. She was only trying to make him better. "Okay."

With shame, though, Daniel thought meanly that he'd bet Sam's bacon and eggs weren't as good as Jack's bacon and eggs.

=====

"Hey; aren't you hungry?"

Daniel stared into his breakfast, the bacon and eggs arranged in a smiley face, and shook his head mutely, feeling his eyes unexpectedly start to burn again. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, one hand automatically pressing against Daniel's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

Unable to stop himself, Daniel blurted out the truth, the question that had been plaguing his mind since he'd started thinking when they'd come home the night before. "Did you tell me a fib, Sam?" he whispered plaintively.

"What? No, of course not!" Sam leaned toward him and turned his stool so she could look in his eyes. "I would never fib to you, Daniel; never. Where's this coming from?"

"You said Jack loves me." There. He'd said it. His voice wouldn't seem to work; it felt like something was squeezing his throat together, making it hard for him to even breathe, let alone speak. His voice came out sounding soft and tight. Daniel stared down into the plate of breakfast that was mocking him, smiling when he was so sad, and he jabbed his fork into the bacon smile, breaking it in half and pushing both pieces to opposite sides of the plate. "He doesn't."

'Oh no.' Sam reached out and gently removed the fork from Daniel's clenched fist, setting it on the counter beside his plate. "Sweetie, Jack's just...upset. He didn't mean what he said."

Daniel poked at his fork with one finger, watching it edge along the smooth surface, obviously determined not to look up, though Sam could only imagine his expression as he tried to hold back the tears she knew wanted release, if his softly hitching breaths were anything to go by. "Yes he did, I know he did. You said you'n'Jack'n'everyone'll always tell me the truth. He's mad at me. He hates me."

Sam pulled up another stool and sat close to Daniel so she could see his scrunched-up face, a little panicky as she noticed a few tears start trickling from his eyes, only to be hastily wiped away before they could make it down the flushed, round cheeks. "Daniel--"

The boy jerked when Sam tried to reach for his shoulder, hopping off the opposite side of the stool and half-stumbling to the entrance of the hallway. "Why won't he like me anymore, Sam?" he asked, desperately trying to keep the tears from coming faster. "Did I do something bad?"

"No. No, honey, of course you didn't." Sam paused, realizing that for every step she took forward, Daniel took one backwards.

"I...I wanted to make Jack like me even though I'm not big anymore. He liked me when I was big, didn't he?" Sam watched helplessly as Daniel scrubbed a fist against his wet cheeks, close to hyperventilation as he tried to drag in enough air to both keep his voice at something approaching a normal pitch and to keep his sobs from escaping. "But I don' know how to make him like me if I don' 'member what I did to make him m-mad at me! I tried to be good, I did ev'rything you told me to do--I said 'please' and 'thank you', 'cept when we were gonna go home 'cause I didn't know we were leavin'n'then we weren't in the house anymore and I didn't say 'thank you' and Jack's gonna think I don' have any man..manners."

In the face of the unflaggingly persistent optimism and faith in a man Daniel knew only to identify as family and friend eroding before her very eyes, Sam was speechless. In Daniel's head, what seemed like his own flaws were glaring him in the face, irrefutable evidence that he was the reason for Jack's rejection. That there was something about him that was fundamentally unlovable in Jack's eyes, and it was tearing him apart. Sam watched as Daniel's fists were pressed against his mouth to stifle the torturous sobs as he half doubled over with the force of his anguish. It was a gesture she'd seen employed by Daniel once before--four years ago, when Machello's Goa'uld-killing inventions had invaded him, leading them to believe he'd been stricken down with schizophrenia, Daniel had broken down in the padded cell at the Academy hospital. That had been one of the most difficult things Sam had ever been witness to...but this surpassed it, knowing that the same gesture that had only been resorted to in a time when things had never looked bleaker for any of them was now being resurrected in a five-year-old child. She couldn't take it, and Sam stood and stepped toward Daniel again, unable to keep herself from trying to hold him, but Daniel turned and fled, retreating back to the spare room. From down the hall, she heard the door slam shut. "Daniel," she called, pleading, and followed him. Sam tried the door--even though it locked from the inside, she suspected Daniel wasn't in any shape to operate the lock, but a weight against the door hinted that there was no way he was going to allow her entry. "Daniel," she called again gently. She crouched beside the door, imagining him jammed up against the inside.

"Go 'way," Daniel sobbed fiercely. The proximity of his voice told Sam she'd been correct in her assumption of his position.

"Sweetheart, will you please let me in? I'll--"

"Go! Go!" he wailed. A dull thud resounded from inside, and Sam fleetingly wondered what he'd hit the door with. His foot? Fist? God forbid, his head?

'WhatdoIdo, whatdoIdo, whatdoIdo...' The words ran rampant through her head, and Sam desperately tried to rationalize what was happening. To think, all that was required to stop this was a few words from Colonel O'Neill. After the night before, though, Sam didn't think it was likely that was going to happen. She wanted in, itched to get in Daniel's room and just hold him, tell him everything would be all right, and then force the Colonel to face him, and face what he'd done. She didn't know how firmly Daniel was pressed against the bedroom door, though, and she really didn't relish the idea of shoving him out of the way with the door in case she hurt him.

'Wake up, Sam; he's already hurt.' And from the sounds of his distress, Sam didn't think he was far off from making himself sick, or beginning to hyperventilate, and then if he still wouldn't let her in what would she do? Should she call Janet? Should she go with her original idea and force her way into the spare room? Try and talk him out of the room, or at least away from the door, from the outside?

The faintest sound of rustling from inside drew her attention from her own disjointed thoughts, and Sam gingerly turned the doorknob, pushing gently...and finding no resistance. For a split second she was terrified Daniel had seriously hurt himself, but then she heard him shriek "Go!", and poked her head in the door.

Daniel was face-down on the bed, still sobbing, and he only lifted his head, face contorted in anger and distress, to yell at her. "G-go! Get...get out! I want Jack!"

Tears pricked at her own eyes, and Sam squeezed the doorframe with one hand. "Daniel..."

"No! I want Jack!" His next sob was drawn out on a keening wail, and that did it for Sam. She pushed the bedroom door wide open. "Hang on just one second, honey," she said as calmly as possible, ordering her hands and knees to stop shaking and get with the program already. "I'll be right back." She fled down the hallway and seized the phone in her unsteady hands, already dialing the number and extension for Janet in the infirmary as she hurried back down the hallway to Daniel.

**Doctor Fraiser.**

"God, Janet." Sam's voice caught on a sob of relief, and she leaned against the wall just inside Daniel's room, certain Janet would be able to hear his cries, stifled now into the pillow under his face, through the phone line.

**Sam? What is it; what's wrong?**

"It's Daniel, Janet." The words bubbled out of her in an insane rush. "I think you have to come over here, Janet; he's hysterical, he won't stop crying; I can't make him stop crying."

**Okay.** Janet's tone was soothing. **Okay. What happened, Sam?**

Once she started the story she couldn't leave out any detail, and she relayed the plan she and Teal'c had made the week before to give the colonel his chance to make amends, the heated argument between herself and O'Neill, her storming out of the house with Daniel in tow, and everything that had happened that morning. Janet called out orders, Sam assumed, to her staff, telling them to take care of this and that, and then Janet promised her she was on her way with a hissed, "That miserable son of a bitch" that made Sam's hope flare that when her friend got to the house, everything would be taken care of.

That hope was short-lived, however, as she was summoned from the phonecall by the sudden sound of retching. Disconnecting but keeping the phone with her, Sam tiptoed closer to the bed. "Daniel?"

He was leaning over the opposite side of the bed so all she got was a view of his rump, legs and lower back, the rest of him out of sight except for his two hands clutching the bedclothes to prevent himself from falling face-first into the puddle of vomit Sam could now make out on the floor. She noticed that the carpet hadn't been the only victim; Daniel's shirt, chin and the comforter had all been targets for his round of illness as well. Daniel stared down at the mess, crying harder when he realized Sam knew what he'd done. In one quick but shaky movement, he slithered off the bed to jam himself against the wall. "Ggggo 'way," he sobbed.

Sam crouched before him, not touching him but holding a hand toward out only to pull it back when he cringed further into the wall and ignored it. "Sweetie, we have to get you cleaned up, okay?" she whispered, keeping a tone that one would use with a skittish animal. "Why don't you let me get a bath started for you and you can get nice and freshened up, I'll change the sheets, and then you can have a lay down for a while. That sound okay?"

Daniel's chest hitched violently, repeatedly, and he shook his head adamantly, sobs no longer audible, but equally as heart-wrenching to see. Sam frowned slightly, then slowly stood and moved to the bed, beginning to methodically peel the soiled comforter and damp sheet from it. She tossed them in the hamper by the door and opened the closet for a couple of new blankets. She quickly spread them out over the bed and tucked them in at the foot and along the sides. That done, she pulled out a new t-shirt and a pair of shorts for Daniel, deciding against the whole 'give him some space' thing--she figured they'd reached the limit of that idea's effectiveness with the whole projectile vomiting.

When Sam reached for Daniel, she ignored--with difficulty--the escalation of his cries when she picked him up and gently stripped him of his soiled sclothes. He beat ineffectually at her shoulders when she tried to tug his arms through the sleeves of the clean t-shirt and tried to kick out at her when she attempted to help him pull on the shorts, but she persevered and managed, with shaky breathing and putty arms, to get him dressed again. By the time she'd finished, Daniel had had enough of fighting and enough of her ministrations, virtually diving from her arms to curl up into as tight a ball as he could compress himself, pouring more sobs into the blankets and pillows, and wordlessly snatched the oversized husky-dog Beanie Baby Sam plied him with to his chest, swiping his runny nose against the dark grey fur.

The cordless in her hand rang, startling her, and Sam hit the button to pick up while she headed out to the hall closet for the wet-vac. "Hello?" she asked, responding with what she hoped was a normal tone.

**Greetings, MajorCarter.**

Sam had to smile a little; even seven years on, Teal'c still didn't really sound natural when he used the phone. "Hey Teal'c."

**MajorCarter, DoctorFraiser informed me she was leaving for your home and I am accompanying her. There is something amiss with DanielJackson?**

Dropping silently to her knees, phone cradled between her right ear and shoulder, Sam sighed and glanced at the shuddering little body on the bed. "You can say that again, Teal'c." For the second time that day she launched into the whole story of the disaster of the day before, filling Teal'c on every detail, even though she knew Janet had, more than likely, already filled him in. Teal'c's protectiveness never failed to strike a chord in her, and his voice was cold when she finished.

**I believe I shall pay O'Neill a visit before accompanying DoctorFraiser to your home, MajorCarter.**

"Really?"

**Indeed. I believe there is more I can do for DanielJackson in that way than I possibly could in attempting to administer medicinal aid.**

Grateful for her friend's interference, Sam dry-washed her face with her free hand as she put the wet-vac to work on the carpet. "Thank you, Teal'c; I can't tell you how relieved that makes me. This has to stop, but the colonel has made it quite clear that he won't listen to me anymore."

**Do not fear, MajorCarter; I shall endeavor to make O'Neill...see our point of view.**

With a healthy dose of smug satisfaction settling in and driving some of the helplessness away, Sam disconnected the call and continued her cleaning efforts. The colonel was certainly in for it when Teal'c got there...and she couldn't think of anyone who deserved a good smack in the face by reality anymore than he did.

=====

Jack plunked himself down on his couch with a grunt of satisfaction, allowing his body to continue its descent until he hit cushion, then stretched himself out along the length with his remote in hand. With a huff, he began flicking through the sports channels with only a shadow of his usual interest, wanting the TV on more for a distraction than out of any desire to see the scores of the latest baseball and football games scroll across the bottom of the screen on their repetitive ticker.

He tried turning the volume up higher--hell, he even tried switching over to MTV to let the how-can-anyone-call-that-music assail his ears, but nothing drowned out his own thoughts that continued to let him know that he'd really put his foot in it this time--and then some. He knew nothing excused him from losing it like that, not in front of Daniel, not even if Carter was irritating the hell out of him with her 'good intentions'. In fact, he knew that nothing excused him from losing it in front of Carter, either, because she was just being who she always was--nerve-gratingly determined Carter, hell-bent on patching up the smallest hitch in intra-team relations, and Jack had let it get to him. It looked like he had a lot of...he shuddered...apologizing to do. To both of them.

"Later," he said aloud, pausing briefly on Sportsnet when he caught a glimpse of a batter from the Dodgers fling his bat toward the Cardinals' pitcher. "Psychos," he muttered, and glanced at his watch. Three forty-five. It was late afternoon, but he didn't try and kid himself that tempers were smoothed over. Carter was definitely still in a snit; understandably so. Jack decided he'd sleep on it for a couple of days, then make amends at the mountain during the week, and try his best to politely explain to Carter that he wasn't interested in her interfering with his surprisingly complex thought processes.

He was worried about Daniel, though. The expression on the mobile little face as Carter hauled him off toward the car would haunt him, Jack was certain, to the end of time. Realization of his apparent unwelcome had warred with the solid hope that Jack's yelling and temper would taper off, and everything would be fine. Jack had seen the betrayal in the expressive eyes, and he'd never forgive himself for putting it there.

"O'Neill."

So lost in his thoughts, Jack was startled by the sudden voice, and was sitting bolt upright before he had conscious knowledge of his own movement. "Teal'c?" he asked in surprise. He hadn't even heard the door open. And, he reflected, since when did he ever just leave his front door unlocked? "What--"

"MajorCarter has informed myself and DoctorFraiser of what transpired when she arrived to retrieve DanielJackson last night."

Frustration surged in him again and Jack rolled his eyes and stood up, turning off the TV and facing his teammate. "Oh, so what?" he barked. "Instead of trying herself, she's gonna start sending missionaries to my door?"

Teal'c's frown deepened--something Jack wouldn't have thought possible if the thunderous look being sent his way was anything to go by. The Jaffa shook his head. "I only half believed MajorCarter's tales of your stubbornness," he said slowly, "but now I see that she was not exaggerating as I had hoped. I do not understand your continued hesitation, O'Neill," he admitted, "but I care even less for the effect your childishness has had on DanielJackson. He is but a child, whose faith in you has been compromised. I must inform you, my friend, that that is the case with mine as well--and that of MajorCarter and DoctorFraiser."

"'Childishness'?" Jack bleated. "Is that what you think this is? Fuck," he breathed. "Carter didn't tell you everything then, did she? She didn't tell you that the reason I--wait a minute, what are you talking about; 'the effect on Daniel'?"

"DanielJackson refuses to emerge from his bedroom at the home of MajorCarter and has made himself physically ill as a result of his emotional state."

"What?"

"MajorCarter and DoctorFraiser each advised me to...'kick your ass clear to next week', O'Neill, but at this point in time I cannot help but believe that would be too simple a punishment for you."

"Teal'c, back up--what happened..."

"At breakfast this morning, DanielJackson became extremely upset and refused all of MajorCarter's subsequent attempts to console him," Teal'c said coldly. "As of my departure from the SGC, she was still unsuccessful in calming him. DoctorFraiser is en route to attempt to render assistance."

A raw, sickening wave of guilt swamped Jack, his throat closing over. He'd done that. He'd done that to Daniel, and he'd known the moment the harsh words to Daniel had left his mouth that they'd have affected him so deeply--he shouldn't have assumed otherwise, given his knowledge of Daniel's character. And now here he was, lounging on the couch, toying with the idea of waiting a few days before beginning his apologies? Christ, the kid had made himself sick. When the hell did Jack start getting his jollies out of hurting innocent children?

Jack's stomach roiled and he brushed past Teal'c, heading for the kitchen where he retrieved his truck keys and rapidly shoved his feet into his shoes. "Where are you going, O'Neill?" Jack swore he heard more than a hint of smugness in his teammate's tone. He turned to him, shaking his head.

"I have to--" He didn't know how to put it into words. He had to what? Fix this, certainly. Try and piece a five-year-old child back together again? Rectify his own selfish need to rationalize his misgivings? Everything he could possibly use to describe what he had to do fell painfully short of the mark. "I have to go," he said simply. He jerked the front door open, and without waiting to see if it had even closed behind him he was down the stairs and at the side of the Avalanche.

Pulling away from the house on autopilot, Jack reflected that this was exactly why he hadn't wanted to go near Daniel--he had too much shit to work out, and hadn't wanted any of his unaddressed frustrations to vent themselves and allow the kid to take the brunt. He should have known that stilted, awkward conversations with his formerly-grownup best friend was a small price to pay for the peace of mind that would eventually roll around when he finally let the rest of his team help in the rationalizing department. Jack had never wanted any of this to happen. He'd never wanted to push Daniel so far back that he wouldn't allow himself to let him back in, nor did he ever want to make threats and coldness his only method of communication with Carter. 'Too late now.' All he could do now was go over there and pray they'd let him within ten feet of Daniel, to at least let him try and make things right, no matter how much he might not deserve it.

It had been safe, keeping Daniel away since the 'rebirth' transformation. Keeping Daniel away had allowed Jack to fool himself into believing that this was only a temporary setback, a roadblock on the way to Daniel being brought back to the way he'd been that month ago when Jack watched him eagerly step through the 'gate for his destined-to-be-a-record-breaker mission, to Daniel annoying the hell out of him, pleading to be able to stay "just another hour or so, Jack"; he had to "study this doohickey and that rock to prove this culture cross-pollinated with that one." In the process of soothing his own troubled mind, Jack had made Daniel think he wasn't worth his weight in grade-A mud, and now, as he'd feared, he'd have to force his own issues to work themselves out rather than allowing them to unravel over time, as he'd hoped.

Jack drove silently, not even in the mood for the quiet distraction the radio usually provided. He was nearly halfway to Carter's place when he realized that there hadn't been any other cars in or around his driveway. Jack blinked, temporarily sidelined from his damning thoughts. How the hell had Teal'c gotten there, anyway?

=====
=====

"How is he?" Sam asked anxiously as Janet quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of Daniel and spotted him curled up on his bed before the door hid him from view, breath still hitching and ragged.

"He's all right for now. I gave him a mild sedative," Janet admitted, studiously avoiding Sam's eyes.

"You've got to be kidding. Janet, he's five."

"I know, Sam," she replied sadly, "but I didn't have a choice. He isn't responsive to either of us or any of our attempts to calm him, he was hyperventilating, he would have made himself sick again...he's having a serious emotional breakdown."

"Oh my God..." How unbelievably twisted was that?

Janet nodded her agreement, and her expression hardened. "You said he was crying for Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam rubbed at her forehead wearily. "Yeah."

"Well he's relatively calm now, but I will not give him more drugs if he wakes up in the same state," Janet warned. "This is going to have to be resolved the old-fashioned way."

"I know, Janet, but how? The Colonel won't come near Daniel unless we drag him into it, and if we try to do that again, God knows how he'll react."

Janet chewed her bottom lip. "I don't know, Sam, but that little boy in there can't take much more of this. He needs security and stability, and as long as things are this rocky, he's not going to get it." She studied Sam for a moment. "Come on," she said, "I'll put on some coffee."

---

Silently hovering over mugs of hot coffee, Sam and Janet were interrupted from their private musings by a quiet, tentative knock on the front door, and Sam knew without going to the door just who it would be. Her jaw firmed, and she glanced at Janet. "I'll get it," she said evenly. She rose and left the kitchen, counting to three before jerking the door open to reveal Colonel O'Neill standing uncomfortably on the porch, looking ready to bolt, face drawn and concerned. "Colonel, what are you doing here?" she asked coolly, not bothering to waste time on pleasantries. 'You'd damn well better give me the right answer, you sonuvabitch.'

Jack half-avoided her eyes, standing there meekly, hands flexing and unflexing as though he was unsure what to do with them. "Hey Carter...Teal'c, uh...Teal'c told me what happened to--to Daniel. Can I...can I see Daniel for a minute? I have a lot of things to say to him...to apologize for."

'To me, too,' the selfish side of Sam said loudly, but she just studied him for a long moment before reluctantly stepping back. He seemed genuinely concerned...Sam tilted her head in wordless invitation for him to step inside. "It's the least you can do," she couldn't resist jabbing at him.

Jack nodded wordlessly. He deserved that, deserved anything Carter threw at him, but he couldn't help letting the lizard brain take over for a brief--oh very brief--moment, the thick-headed side of himself not allowing him to take all of the blame. "Carter, what have you been telling him?" he found himself askeing as he stepped past her and into the front hall. "He wasn't this upset when he left my place last night."

At the look on Carter's face, alive and burning with anger, Jack mentally kicked himself. 'You stupid bastard!' As expected his 2IC reeled on him. "I've had to tell him some reason why you don't want anything to do with him--and unfortunately there's only so many times I can tell him you have reports to finish and still have him believe me. He isn't stupid, and I'm more than a little surprised that you seem to think he is."

"Major...." Jack warned, tone low and even.

"No, Jack. We're off-duty, we're in my home, you're the cause of this and you're going to hear what I have to say. I know I've told you that Daniel's been asking about you non-stop, but apparently you need to hear it again--and you'll keep hearing it until you listen!"

"I've obviously listened," Jack said quietly. "Why else would I be here?"

He had her there, and Carter softened only slightly before she changed tactics. "I don't understand you, sir," she said, echoing Teal'c's words at his house only--what was it, two seconds ago? "How can you just shrug him off; how can you not care? As much as your ego may be hurting you must be able to see that he's hurting even worse. He's unhappy, Jack," she hissed, waving an arm in the direction of the spare room. "You should know by now that pushing him away doesn't do either one of you an iota of good, and I'm starting to see it more and more everyday. Sure, he'll keep a smile on his face for me, but he wants to be with you. Right there, plain as day, that connection with you still exists, and everyone can see it but you. Tell me, Colonel--what did you two do yesterday?"

Thrown by the sudden turn of conversation, Jack floundered for a moment before regaining his footing. "I...I took him for ice cream and to the park," he said shortly. "He told you that. That's it. We did normal...kiddie stuff."

"Did you have fun?" Carter asked, and despite Jack's paranoia there was no sarcasm, no anger in her voice, but only weary resignation and a faint glimmer of hope. "Did you enjoy yourself, or even better, let him enjoy himself? Because I know this Daniel now, sir, and I know he would have enjoyed himself. He lets go. He has let go. Did you?"

Jack thought over the previous afternoon more carefully than he would think about anything. Watching Daniel scale the little climbing wall, braving the 'giant' slide and turning that bright, proud smile on Jack when he made it to the bottom all on his own, the delighted look on the small face when he discovered the 'secret tunnel'...those things had brought back some painful memories and some painful reminders that Daniel wasn't who he used to be. But Jack had to admit, that, yes--he'd laughed along with Daniel, had participated in--in fact, he'd initiated--the ice cream race, with barely a second thought.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess I did."

Carter looked immensely relieved, as though he'd shown her something she'd been afraid she wouldn't find. "Then give him a chance," she pleaded. "Don't shut him out--don't you see how hard he's trying? In the past few days, he hasn't worried at all about taking up 'too much room' at my place, or making messes, but now he's so convinced that you don't love him anymore...he just wants you to let him in; he wants to show you that he won't be any trouble, but he needs you to accept him. Didn't you get enough of a clue yesterday when he got sick?"

Jack winced. All he'd thought of when Daniel had thrown up after his second breakfast was that Carter had wanted to dump the flu-ridden kid off on him while she spent her Saturday on her own, the way she wanted. Carter looked mildly affronted, almost like she'd read his mind, and she shook her head sadly. "He'll do anything for you," she informed Jack, "but I think you already know that, don't you?"

Jack let his gaze fall away from Carter's as he mulled over what she was saying--what she had been saying, like a very persistent, very annoying, but very right broken record. "I do now," he said simply.

Carter nodded once, then pointed back down the hall. "Then go tell him that."

=====

Carter had followed him as far as her kitchen, where Fraiser was sitting, nursing what must have been coffee, but Jack probably wouldn't have blamed them if they went for something a little stronger. Fraiser's expression was positively glacial; she managed to make Teal'c look like a big, happy St. Bernard, and Jack had only given her a sheepish nod before hurrying on out of sight, though without looking back he was certain they both had their ears pressed to the wall. A closed bedroom door had never looked quite so uninviting, and Jack half expected the thing to shriek like something out of a horror movie as he pushed it open. "Hey...Daniel?" he called softly. It was almost dusk, and the room, east-facing, was beginning to get dark.

"What." The response was muffled and toneless, and the little shape Jack could make out on the bed didn't move a muscle.

"Umm...can I come in?"

"Why."

Okay, it was going to be a lot harder than he thought. Jack was surprised; he'd been greeted with this side of Daniel a few times over the years--withdrawn, sullen, shutting others out because he was hurting more than he cared to let on and didn't think anyone else cared to hear his sob stories. It had always been hard to see him like that as an adult, but the same type of attitude showing up in this carefree incarnation was a level of disconcertation Jack found deeply disturbing.

If he hadn't been able to see it before, Jack could see now what his thick-headedness was doing--this went way beyond disappointment on Daniel's part; Jack had effectively deflected him, and as a child, Daniel didn't have the resources or iron will to take the knocks in a persistent attempt to win his way back into Jack's good graces. Daniel the adult had been able to do so, take his blows and dish them out when he thought Jack deserved them, but Daniel the five-year-old was beginning to slide to where Daniel, as an eight-year-old the first time around, had gone after his parents had been killed. The brief illumination Jack had seen that had to have been Daniel in Egypt with his parents was becoming eclipsed--and Jack was doing it single-handedly. Decision made, Jack opened the bedroom door enough to allow himself entry and closed it quietly behind him, then headed directly for the bundle on the bed. "Because I have to apologize to you," he said softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "I know I have no right to ask, but will you please listen to me; just for a couple of of minutes?"

Daniel must have had to consider it, because it was a few minutes before he finally rolled over to his back and stared wearily up at Jack, face still damp with leaking tears and pupils dilated from a sedative Janet must have administered. "You don' hafto," he said in a tone--rather, a lack of tone--that sent chills running up and down Jack's spine. "Babysitters aren't s'posedta wanna keep the kid or r-really like the kid."

The words cut into Jack like knives. "Who...who said that?" he asked hoarsely. There was no way Daniel could have come up with that on his own.

"A boy at the park," Daniel said dully. "I said you were my daddy 'cause he was makin' fun of me, but you told that man you weren't an' the boy said babysitters never want the kids to be theirs. Then you got mad at me'n'said I hadda go home, so that boy was right."

Jack thought back to the park, when he'd been talking to Ed Devoe, a retired Air Force pilot he'd worked with briefly years ago. Daniel had been, he'd assumed, playing on the opposite side of the playground. Now though...now Jack understood the distance Daniel had displayed when Jack had found him in the tunnel and told him it was about time to go. He didn't have any idea--and how could he?--that Daniel had been picked on to the point where he had told another kid Jack was his father...and he didn't know that Daniel had heard his pathetic attempt at escaping responsibility for him. "I...I don't know what to say," he said, trying to read the wounded eyes. "There's...no excuse for the way I've been acting, Daniel. I've been acting like a grade-A aaa...um, idiot--times a million," he added, hoping to inject a bit of levity into the situation, to lift some of that terrible darkness from the normally vibrant face. "I was angry, and it wasn't your fault. I was stupid to take it out on you. I can't say it enough; I'll never be able to say it enough, but I'm sorry." He paused, discovering his own cowardice when he could barely meet Daniel's eyes. Simply apologizing wasn't enough--Daniel was a very confused, hurt five-year-old, and Jack knew from experience that he needed all the reassurance he could get. Jack took a deep breath. "Car--Sam said...you don't think I li--love you," he said, stumbling a little. He glanced at Daniel to find that he had his full attention, and Jack reached out, tilting the stubbornly set, quivering chin up and leaning in to more fully capture his gaze. "I do," he enunciated clearly. "I do, Daniel. You were--are--my best friend, and you mean so much to me. I thought when you chose to...do this it was the end of all that.

"But it's not," Jack added when Daniel's eyes widened and his mouth opened to offer some kind of protest. "Things are just very different. I'm so sorry it took me so long to realize that but, and I'm sure you know, I'm really slow sometimes." A small smile, wavering all over the place, lifted the corners of Daniel's mouth; just for a moment, and Jack returned it. "I'm so sorry I made you think I didn't care. I do, more than anything--and I hope I haven't permanently ff--fudged...up your faith in me. I'm sorry." He sighed heavily. "I love you, Daniel."

Daniel's eyes were still locked on his, dissecting Jack for what seemed like an eternity, until Jack wanted to squirm from under the scrutiny of his gaze. He held firm, though, watching him, until a few tears broke free and Daniel sniffled loudly. He wormed his way across the bed to Jack's side and held one arm up. Without even hesitating, Jack pulled Daniel into his lap and wrapped the little body into the tightest hug he could muster--not a hold to facilitate the necessity of moving him, as he'd done when Daniel had gotten sick the day before, but a reaffirming promise not to leave him. He felt Daniel's warm breath puff shakily into his neck and he clung to Jack, shivering and quietly crying, bunching the material of Jack's shirt in two tight fists.

Jack was stunned; he had known Daniel as a man who didn't seek or readily welcome physical comfort, but as a child he seemed so tactile, almost skin-starved without some kind of physical closeness. His parents must have showered him with these kinds of affection when he was small, and Jack began to get a niggling feeling of just how much Daniel had lost when those steady presences in his life had been torn away. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the soft hair. "Christ, I'm so sorry."

=====

Outside Daniel's room, Sam felt tears of her own break free as she watched through the door she pushed just ajar as Colonel O'Neill carefully maneuvered himself so he was half-lying on his side, facing the door, curling around Daniel as the child pressed himself as close to Jack as he could. Sam felt her heart rate return to normal and sagged a little against the wall. She was beyond relieved, but couldn't help a slight twinge of jealousy. Intense emotional outbursts where her attempts to hold and comfort were rejected were something she thought she would never look forward to; they left her feeling helpless and superfluous. Then the colonel would just walk in, and it was like throwing a switch; already Daniel's cries were quieting, his gasps for air calming as Jack stroked a hand hypnotically over his hitching back, murmuring in Daniel's ear, in his hair, nonsense that, whatever the content was working wonders.

That was how it should have been from the minute Janet released Daniel from the infirmary--Daniel and Jack, relying on one another, as they had throughout the past seven years. Daniel deserved everything they could give him; he was already giving them so much. Whether Sam liked it or not, her own sense of inadequacy had been torn into the open--at least to herself--and acknowledged, but Daniel's unconditional trust and love had opened her to the reality of what could be. Motherhood. That concussed hallucination aboard 'Prometheus' of her father was just that, but Sam could see the grains of truth behind the imagining. She knew now that the chance existed, and realized now she had all the time she needed to find it.

If Daniel was doing this for her...Sam backed away from the bedroom silently to rejoin Janet in the kitchen, allowing the pair in the room their privacy. They'd be out when they were ready, and Sam had the feeling that more than a few walls were going to be breaking down and bridges repaired.

'Better late than never,' she thought with satisfaction. She walked out to the kitchen where Janet was pouring refills. She smiled tiredly and Janet returned it, lifting her mug in a little toast.

"It's about time," Janet said, echoing Sam's thoughts.

"I know."

Janet studied Sam closely for a minute, then set the mug down, clearing her throat. "Well, I guess I'd better go pick up Teal'c. He's already missed the action, and I don't want to leave him stranded at the Colonel's house."

Sam chuckled softly, feeling much better than she'd felt in days. "You actually just dropped him off?"

"Indeed," Janet boomed, laughing a little herself. "He insisted, and when Teal'c's on a rampage..."

"Don't get in his way," Sam finished, nodding. "Right. Yeah, we'd better get him; he'll kill us if we keep him out of the loop."

Janet started for the door, picking up her keys, and turned halfway down the hall. "Are you coming?"

Sam hesitated. Should she leave Jack and Daniel alone; give them a little time to get things settled down? But if Daniel decided he didn't want Jack there...she shook her head. This was one of those head-to-head times, it seemed. She nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

=====

Jack emerged from Daniel's room hours later, looking quite worse for wear and more than a little dazed. He paused in the entryway of Sam's living room when he saw the hostess herself, Fraiser and Teal'c sitting, silently waiting. "He's, uh...he's asleep," he ventured finally.

"So the sedative finally kicked in," Janet said in relief, but Jack winced at the intended barb. 'Yes sir, you royally screwed up, and we're not about to let you forget it.'

"He...he asked me to stay," Jack said apologetically, directing the conversation to Sam. "Do you mind...?"

"No, of course not," Carter replied. A half-smile lifted the corners of Jack's mouth, but Carter wiped it out by adding, "For Daniel's sake, of course. Right now I'd let the NID at him if he asked me to."

Jack backed out of the doorway. "Right," was barely more than a whisper.

'Holy shit.' He hadn't encountered this kind of hostility from his kids since that whole NID undercover fiasco, and even that had been more pleasant than this. He had some serious making-up to do. As he settled himself back on the edge of Daniel's mattress, he just hoped it wasn't too late.

=====

"What do we do now?" Sam asked when the Colonel was gone.

Janet blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do we do now? The Colonel's obviously coming around, so when it comes down to custody..." She trailed off uncertainly. "Nothing here is finalized yet."

"You took it upon yourself to be DanielJackson's guardian, MajorCarter," Teal'c pointed out. "In fairness, you should continue to provide care for him....if you so desire."

"Of course I 'so desire'," Sam said, "but this...situation is just so screwed up. I won't keep Daniel here if he wants to go with the Colonel; I don't know if I can deal with many more of these...adventures."

Janet smiled sympathetically. "You didn't expect motherhood to be easy, did you Sam?" she pointed out.

"Indeed, children are not always the joy they are made out to be," Teal'c agreed. Both women slid him sidelong glances and he cocked an eyebrow. "Or so I have heard."

Sam laughed a little despite herself. "No, I didn't think it would be easy, but I guess I thought I'd be dealing with a Daniel with some...I don't know, Daniel-ness in the area of mental and emotional control." She shivered, remembering Daniel's heart-wrenching cries for Jack. "This blew that theory out the window...and what if this happens again? Daniel wouldn't let me touch him; am I supposed to call the Colonel, let him handle it when this happens?"

"Perhaps it will not happen again once O'Neill has accepted DanielJackson as he is," Teal'c pointed out.

"Maybe..." Sam murmured.

"Either way, we should wait and see," Janet said. "Let's take this one step at a time, all right? Wait until Daniel wakes up and we'll take it from there. For all we know, this outburst could be related to the fatigue and weakness Daniel's feeling from the transformation. When he's back to his old self and everything is sorted out here, he may be fine."

"I hope so," Sam said with a sigh.

=====

The house was silent at eleven-thirty that night when Daniel stirred and rolled over slightly, stopping when he bumped Jack's leg. Jack started out of a light doze and looked down to see Daniel's eyes blink open sleepily in the dim light of the nightlight beside his bed. A slight smile quirked the boy's lips. "Here?" he asked drowsily.

"Yup," Jack said softly. "Yup; still here, kiddo."

Daniel sighed and rolled over the rest of the way, left arm landing heavily on Jack's lap. "C'n I g'home with you?"

'What?!' "Uh...I'm not sure, Daniel. You're happy here with Sam, aren't you? I know Sam's happy to have you here."

"Mhm, but wanna go with you."

Jack was silent for a long moment, finally coming up with a lame, "Go back to sleep; we'll talk in the morning."

"Please?" Daniel persisted, voice sounding shaky again. Jack let his head fall back until it hit the headboard. 'Oh no; please don't start up the waterworks again...' "We'll see," was all Jack would give him, but placed a hand on Daniel's back and began rubbing gently to soften the apparent rejection. "Go back to sleep."

He was surprised when Daniel didn't respond; the little guy had already obeyed. The sedative must still have a bit of a pull on him, because Daniel, in any form, was never one to obey orders so readily.

Jack sighed a little shakily as he watched Daniel sleep, still rubbing the boy's back. This had just gotten a lot more complicated.

'What the hell are we supposed to do now?'

====

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