Fraternal Instinct

By BadgerGater

E-mail: [email protected]

Category: Sequel to Maternal Instinct; Angst; a bit of smarm

Season/Sequel: late three

Spoilers: Anything through season 3

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, really.

Summary: Jack and 'Grasshopper' talk after the meeting with the alien

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of SciFi, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted elsewhere without the author's consent.

Author’s note: This fic was published in Gateways 5.

I loved the dialogue between Jack and Daniel in this episode, and here's more.......

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"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Shoes."

Colonel Jack O'Neill stood waiting patiently, okay, impatiently, while Dr. Daniel Jackson went back for his forgotten footwear. Teal'c, Carter and Bra'tak paused in the entrance to the shrine, church, temple, whatever it was. "Go on," O'Neill waved them ahead. "We'll catch up."

After all, it had been a long day and they were all tired. None more than he was, Jack thought, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he waited for SG-1's brilliant but distracted archaeologist. All that mystic mumbo-jumbo nonsense talk with the alien's janitor guy, like some weird flashback dream straight out of the 60's, had started a headache spiking right in the middle of his forehead. And then the arrival of all those Jaffa had created a sudden surge of adrenaline, followed by its equally hasty letdown due to that Oprah Dasala alien thingy zapping the snakeboys, all of which had left him with a lingering headache. He was eager to get home and take a break and find a bunk, any bunk, even an infirmary bunk.

O'Neill shook his head wearily. Man, he was way too tired when the thought of an infirmary bunk was becoming a pleasant one. It was *way* past time to go home. "Daniel, come on. This plane's leavin' the gate! Now."

"Sorry, Jack," Dr. Jackson replied, still shoving a foot into one of his boots. He held up a bootlace. "Busted the shoelace."

Jack sighed and sat back down on the edge of a decorative brickwork planter or whatever the thing was. "Take your time, or you'll have blisters before we make the gate," he muttered, counting slowly to one hundred under his breath. He toggled the switch on his radio. "Coburn, everything clear at your end?"

"Yes, Sir, Colonel. Just mopping up."

"Mopping up?"

"Checking the Jaffa, Sir. Haven't found anything but dead, burnt bodies."

"Good. We'll be a few minutes yet here at the...?" Jack raised an eyebrow, turning to Daniel for the term.

"Temple would be a good description."

Jack nodded. "Temple. Don't worry about us. Grasshopper is a little slow getting started tonight. O'Neill out." The colonel closed his eyes against the rising headache and waited.

"Ready," Daniel said breathlessly, and they left the building and started back to the gate.

*****

It was eerily quiet, the trail lit only by the dim glow of the small slice of moon. Jack slid a quick look at Daniel, trying to think of something to say. He'd already asked Daniel if he was alright, and of course Daniel had said he was fine, but Jack knew better. He'd seen the look on Daniel's face when he talked about the missing boy. He understood, he thought, swallowing a lump in his throat. Daniel, at least, still had the possibility of finding Sha're's child again. Of course, Daniel had held out hope for Sha're for such a long time, and it had come to naught. Jack knew it was hard, keeping that dream alive so long, but at least Daniel still had a chance of seeing the child again some day. Daniel could treasure the knowledge that Sha're's son was in the hands of someone who cared for him, and he was safe for now.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, a sudden stab of grief tearing through his heart at the memory of the son he'd lost forever. No hope. No forgiveness. No possibility of a happy reunion.

He didn't realize he'd stopped until Daniel's questioning "Jack?" brought him back to the present. Stop it, Jack. He mentally kicked himself back into motion. Really brilliant, out here on another planet, hell, on the fabled Kheb, his mind wandering like a green recruit. Good way to get yourself killed, flyboy.

Jack suddenly shivered, not knowing why but feeling like he was being watched. Probably another one of those gibberish spouting alien Ninja priest guys. "Let's get the hell off this Caleb planet, huh?"

***************************

The two men walked on through the silent forest, Daniel thinking about all the incredible things he'd seen and heard and learned that day, trying to fit them into some logical pattern; Jack thinking about all the odd things he'd encountered, the sort of things that just didn't fit into the framework of a military man's experience.

They were only about a third of the way back toward the gate when Jack slowed, his ears instantly alert because he'd heard something odd, something that seemed out of place in the quiet forest. A clink, like metal on metal.

Not natural.

Not good.

The hair on the back of Jack's neck suddenly stood on end. He reached out to tap Daniel's shoulder, silently setting a finger in front of his lips in the classic shhh! motion. In the dim light, O'Neill saw Daniel's eyes go wide with understanding.

For long moments, while Jack held his breath, listening, the forest stayed serenely silent. Maybe, he thought hopefully, maybe his tired mind had only imagined it.

The unmistakable sound of a staff weapon charging was startlingly loud in the stillness.

Instantaneously, Jack and Daniel hit the ground and rolled away from the trail like a carefully choreographed dance move. O'Neill's hand was on the younger man's shoulder, keeping him low, urging him forward as they moved slowly and quietly, hunched over.

The first shot was a good three feet over their heads, but it didn't matter. It wasn't meant to hit anyone. It was an illuminating shot, meant to reveal their position. As it had.

"Go!" Jack hollered at Daniel before spinning toward the source of the blast, the silence shattered now by the chatter of his MP-5 spitting out round after round, punctuating the darkness. Daniel took a dozen strides, then stopped, pulled out his own gun, the little 9 mm popping loudly as he covered O'Neill's retreat.

Together they ran down the trail, only dim starlight illuminating the twists and turns as the path wound unpredictably through the forest. They weren't on the main trail any more. Somewhere in their headlong rush through the trees they'd left the path they'd used to get to the temple. The scenery, what little they saw of it in the dark, was unfamiliar.

The trees ended abruptly. Both men skidded to a halt, side by side, lungs heaving, legs trembling, taking in the scene in front of them with dismay, noting how the next part of the trail wound its way up the steep cliff face, completely in the open.

No cover.

No concealment.

No alternative.

"Go!" Jack ordered. "I'll cover you."

"No. Only if you're coming, too."

"Damn it, Daniel. Go. Now. There's no time to waste arguing. I'll be right behind you." And no place to hide, Jack knew, no place to run to except up the damn cliff. He grabbed Daniel's shirt and shoved him toward the trail, running right on the younger man's heels.

For a brief moment Jack thought they'd make it.

Then he heard the crackle of building energy. O’Neill ducked as the staff weapon was fired, striking the cliff face just a few feet in front of them. Another bolt struck the trail another few yards in front of them. The damn Jaffa weren't trying to hit them. They were trying to turn them back!

Jack grabbed onto Daniel's shoulders when he felt the narrow trail begin to give way as a huge section of the cliff face shuddered, shrugged and began to fall away.

"Jump!" he shouted.

Daniel took one look and leaped forward, making the stable edge of the trail beyond the point where the staff weapon charge had struck. Jack, a step behind, was already sliding downhill as he jumped. One foot hit the lip of the trail, but the other didn't. He slipped, and he slid backward, hands digging at the brush and rock, frantically scrambling for a hand hold.

Daniel's hand grasped Jack's.

O'Neill stopped sliding with a jerk that wrenched his shoulder clear to the socket. His feet scrambled for purchase but the slope was still sliding as another staff weapon charge bored into the cliff a few feet behind Daniel.

"Let go!" Jack ordered, fearing Daniel would be dragged down with him. "Get out of here!"

"No, damn it," Jackson answered, voice tight with strain as he pulled back as hard as he could.

The next energy bolt barely missed Daniel's head. He ducked, his grip on Jack's wrist slipping and the colonel slid inches further down the rocky mountainside.

"Let go!"

"No!"

Jack's flailing left foot found a bit of stable rock, and his hope surged. He pushed off, got his right hand up onto the edge of the trail, finding a small handhold. Muscles taut with effort, he began to pull himself up.

And then one of the Jaffa fired his staff once more, hitting the rock behind Daniel, and the whole piece began to fall.

"NO!!!" Jack loosened his grip on Daniel's wrist. He wasn't about to drag his friend down with him.

Daniel felt Jack's hand begin to slip from his own, knew it was futile to hang on, but he wasn't going to let Jack sacrifice himself for him. He wasn't going to give up, wasn't going to let Jack slip away if he could help it. He wrapped his fingers tighter around Jack's wrists, gritting his teeth, holding on grimly, feet braced, back arched, pulling as hard as he could.

Jack began to move upward.

For an instant.

With a crack of splintering rock, the trail around Daniel disintegrated and both men began to slide uncontrollably down the cliff face.

They tumbled down amid the rubble and rumble of falling stone. With unexpected abruptness the wild ride terminated as a solid smack into something big and hard ended their fall.

Daniel held onto O'Neill as the two men skidded down the mountainside and came to a sudden crashing halt. Good thing, actually, thought Daniel, because if they'd kept sliding, below them there was one really, really long fall, the kind that would be deadly. Coughing in the dust filled air, the archaeologist gingerly raised his head and looked around. Moving carefully, testing his limbs, Daniel discovered he was battered and bruised, but nothing seemed broken. Assessing their situation further, he realized they'd landed on a ledge, quite wide, actually, so they were safe for the time being. In the dim light, he couldn't see a way up or down, but the others would come looking for them.

The others. Daniel could call them if he had his radio, which he didn't. It was back with his vest at the temple. He'd left his vest there.

Daniel heard a groan, and immediately spun to re-check his companion. "Jack?" Even in the low light provided by the stars, Jackson could see blood streaming down Jack's face, matting his silver hair. There was a gaping cut in his scalp just above his right ear.

Nasty.

Daniel made a hasty bandage out of a piece of his shirt and pressed it firmly on the wound. Jack groaned and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn't waken.

"Jack?" Daniel asked, worriedly. "Jack, come on, wake up."

Another moan and O'Neill turned his head away from the pressure Daniel was applying to the bandage. Daniel knew it must hurt, but he had no choice but to keep pressing down firmly on the wound. "Just hold still. You're bleeding a lot here, and I'm trying to stop it. Okay? Jack?"

The only answer was another incoherent groan accompanied by feeble movements to evade the pressure, and then nothing.

Jack's radio. Daniel grabbed it with his free hand, hopeful, but then noted the dented, dust covered case. He pressed the call button and nothing happened. "Hello? If anyone can hear me, this is Dr.Jackson and I'm with Colonel O'Neill. We need some help here. We’re on the cliffside trail. Anyone listening? Anyone? Sam? Teal'c? Major Coburn? Respond. Answer me. Somebody!" he finished in frustration.

Trapped, alone, and Jack was possibly bleeding to death right in front of him, and all he could do was hold a bandage against the wound and hope help came soon.

Daniel shivered.

----------------------------------------------------

Jack woke reluctantly.

"Jack, hey, Jack, come on, wake up!" A voice was whispering in his ear, sadly not the voice of Mary Steenburgen or even Sigourney Weaver. Male voice, familiar voice. Daniel. A hand softly slapping his cheek. Jack pushed the hand away from his face, lips set to snarl an answer but instead unwillingly emitting a groan.

"Jack?"

"Hmmph." He knew that wasn't the answer Daniel was looking for, but first he needed a minute to gather his scattered thoughts, to think about where he was and what had happened. Body aching, throbbing in places too numerous to count, something warm trailing across his face, his head pounding, lying on something hard and sharp like...rocks? Shit. Jaffa. Staff weapons. Cliffs. Rockslide. No comfy bed and hot shower tonight, he thought sadly.

"Where the hell are we?" he mumbled, brushing something wet and sticky from his skin, and realizing by the coppery smell that it was blood, his blood, running down his face. He raised his hand, bumping into Daniel's which was pressing against one almighty sore spot on his skull. "Ow."

"Lie still. You've got a nasty cut on the head. I'm putting pressure on it, trying to stop the bleeding."

"Ah, that's good," the colonel mumbled. "You okay?"

"More in one piece than you are, I dare say. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Hmmm. Don't think so." Experimentally, Jack took a deep breath, moved his arms and legs and everything worked, stiffly, uncomfortably, but it worked. Lots of sore spots, about a million bruises but it seemed there was nothing worse. Of course, the throbbing in his head was just a bit of a distraction, and combined with the way everything was sort of whirling around, he felt rather nauseous.

Jack tried to push the pain back so he could think, and a really bad thought suddenly popped into his head. He struggled to sit up. "The Jaffa?"

"Lie down, damn it," Daniel ordered, pushing him back. "They've left. I was listening to them talk until a few minutes ago. There's four or five of them, and I think they're the only ones still alive, at least in this area. They thought they could force us to take them through the Stargate. But since they didn't capture us, they're going to try to go back to their ship. Anyway, I don't think they could come after us if they wanted to, They're over there," Daniel pointed back the way they'd come, "and we're down here."

"Hmmm. And down here is?"

"Somewhere part way down that big cliff we descended on the way over to the temple."

"Oh, yeah. Lovely," Jack said, recalling the big cliff.

"We're on a ledge. Not a lot of room, but I think we're okay. For now."

"Call for help?"

"My radio's gone, and yours isn't working."

"Oh, good."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault." Jack sighed, moved once again to sit up, then realized that only made his head spin. Even in the darkness, that wasn't a good thing. "Oh shit," he mumbled, and leaned away from Daniel to heave onto the rocks.

Daniel held O'Neill's shoulders while he retched.

This time it was Jack who mumbled "Sorry."

"Not your fault. I'd guess concussion."

Jack leaned back, closing his eyes. "Good guess, grasshopper." After a moment, he asked, "How long was I out?"

"About half an hour."

"Crap."

"That about sums it up." Daniel looked down at his friend, checking the bandage he'd made from the tail of his t-shirt, not liking the amount of blood already soaking the cloth. He once again carefully put the bandage back and resumed the pressure.

Jack flinched at the contact. "That hurts," he complained.

"I know. But the cut's still bleeding."

"Hm. That's not good."

"No, it's not," Daniel answered, worry in his voice. "I think you need a doctor and stitches, but we're stuck down here, for now at least. We're gonna need help to get back upon the trail."

"Guess we'll just have to wait for the others to come looking," Jack said at last.

"They won't be able to find us until it gets light."

"Yeah. That can't be too long, can it?" he asked hopefully, because in the few minutes he'd been awake he'd already realized that his head really, really hurt.

"Jack, this planet has an extremely long nocturnal cycle."

"Huh?" Even without a concussion, he didn't think he remembered what the hell that meant. "Speak English, would you?"

"Long nights. Sixteen hours or so."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack let his heavy eyelids sink closed.

"I think you should try to stay awake."

O'Neill sighed. "I know. Concussion." He went silent a moment, trying to think of a topic of conversation. "So, Danny, seen any good movies lately?"

Daniel's lips twitched. "The only film I ever watch is MALP tapes."

"You need a more exciting life, Daniel."

"We all do."

Jack went silent, thinking. "I don't think we need any more excitement," he answered suddenly, recalling the past year and all they'd been through. Not excitement, more like horror, mission after mission driving a wedge between the members of the team, making it harder and harder to see each other as friends and co-workers and people who respected and cared about each other. Hathor snatching them and telling each of them that all the others were dead. Sha're dying. The whole nasty Kira business. Literally going to hell and back. Apophis re-appearing. Jack himself disappearing for three months on Edora and then having to go undercover; Daniel finding and losing his grandfather, after being lost and found himself; and now this, coming so close to retrieving Sha're's child and failing. "Been a bitch of a few months hasn't it?"

Daniel snorted. "Now that's a succinct summary."

"Suss-cinct summary?" Jack couldn't quite get his uncooperative tongue wrapped around the words, and chuckled.

"Oh yeah, concussion," Daniel added.

"Uhhuh. Didn't we decide that already?"

"Yes, we did."

Daniel felt O'Neill shiver. Sliding down further in the rocks, still careful to maintain the pressure on the bleeding wound on Jack's head, Daniel slipped out of his jacket. Pulling Jack's head in against his shoulder, he wrapped the coat around the both of them.

"Better?"

"Hmm."

Daniel felt the body next to his begin to relax. "Jack!"

"Just tryin' to catch a nap."

"You can't sleep. You have to stay awake. Remember? Head wound. Concussion."

Jack knew his thoughts had drifted. "Yeah. Right. Concussion. Stay awake." Think. Think about something, something important, think about all those important things he'd been thinking about lately, worrying about actually, how to keep his team together, how to mend the rifts that had opened, how to restore something intangible that they'd seemed to have lost. It was just so damn hard to think, the way his head was pounding, but it was his job as team leader to solve those problems. "Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"What's happened?"

"We met Jaffa..."

"No. Not tonight," O'Neill waved a hand in the darkness. "What happened to the team? To SG-1?"

Jack felt the man beside him shrug. "I don't know. Life, death, aliens, the Stargate program..."

"I'm sorry about Sha're."

Once more O'Neill felt a shudder as Daniel took a deep breath.

"I know how much you loved her, and I know what it's like to lose someone who means that much to you," Jack continued.

Daniel stayed silent, but even half-conscious Jack didn't miss the catch in his breathing. "I failed her."

"I know how that feels, too, and how useless it is to dwell on it."

"Well, maybe I haven't dwelt on it enough."

"You have to work it out for yourself, decide when enough is enough. Other people will tell you what they think, but they don't know."

"So, how long did it take you?"

"Don't know. Not done yet," Jack admitted quietly.

Daniel's free hand touched Jack's shoulder. "I wish I'd known Charlie. I bet he was a great kid."

"He was. Your kid will be, too."

"He's not my kid," Daniel said softly.

"Sure he is. He's Sha're's. Lots of people adopt kids..."

"I can't forget who his father is."

"That's not his fault."

"No, it isn't."

"Then don't hold it against him."

In the dim light, Jack saw a faint smile flicker across the younger man's face. "What?"

Daniel looked down. "When I found him, back in the temple, and picked him up, I felt, I felt..."

"Fatherly," Jack supplied the word.

"Yeah. It was... incredible."

There was sadness in O'Neill's tone. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

"I understand better now, what it meant, for you, when you lost Charlie..." Daniel didn't finish, knowing Jack understood, squeezing the shoulder once more.

Long silent moments passed before O'Neill broke the quiet. "I should have trusted you."

"What?" surprised tone from Daniel.

"About the child. When you said Sha're told you. I mean, I knew you believed you'd heard her say what you thought you heard, but I didn't believe you really heard what you thought you heard..." Jack knew what he was trying to say, but the words were getting all twisted up inside his head. "Ah hell, you know. I didn't back you up when you needed it. Then. Or with Machello's gould-killer brain bug thingys either. Sorry."

"And I didn't back you up enough when you needed me to with the whole Makepeace mess."

"So I guess we've both lived up to our screw up potential, huh?" Jack summed up.

"Yeah."

The silence stretched. Daniel felt O'Neill slump against him again.

"Jack?"

"Hmm."

"Don't fall asleep on me."

"Ah. No. Won't. I'm thinking."

"Oh, then this could take a while."

Jack grimaced. "Thanks. Thought we were being nice to each other, tonight, for once."

"Yeah. Okay." Daniel was quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry about the candles and the fire lighting and all that, back there at the temple, trying to make you think I did that stuff," he waved a hand back toward the temple. "I guess I just wanted it to be real, wanted to believe, you know, that there's something more."

"There is," Jack agreed softly.

"There is?"

"Yeah. There is. We've seen it, even if we don't understand it. You know, that Ona Mysalad alien thingy woman, who's taking care of the kid. She's something more, that's for sure."

"I thought you didn't believe in anything like that, things you couldn't see, touch or shoot."

Jack chuckled. "Used to figure that. Not anymore. I've witnessed too much weird stuff out here in the universe the last couple years."

"So what *do* you believe in?"

"My team. I know you'll always do your best. I know that no matter how much we disagree, we'll take care of each other. I know we trust each other." O'Neill's voice grew suddenly very soft and low. "Or I used to know that."

The silence stretched.

Finally, Jack asked, "Daniel, do you trust me?"

Silence.

Oh, this isn't good, O'Neill thought. "Daniel, I trust you."

Very very quietly, so quietly that Jack wasn't really sure he heard it right over the pounding in his head. "Jack, I, I..."

"You don't, do you?"

"I'm thinking..."

"That says it all right there," O'Neill said tiredly wishing his head didn't feel like his brains were trying to leak out of his ears.

Daniel's answer came quickly. "So does that mean that tonight, in the courtyard, when I told you to put down your gun, that since *you* had to think about whether you trusted me, that you don't trust me, either?"

Jack shook his head, realized that wasn't a smart thing to do, and closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the nausea to pass. "Daniel, back at the temple, you said 'if you're ever gonna trust me' and I *did* put down my weapon."

"Only after Bra'tac agreed, and Teal'c."

"Jesus, Daniel, I'm not as smart as the rest of you guys. Sometimes I need a minute to think...."

"That wasn't about thinking, it was about trusting." Jackson answered vehemently.

"Daniel, *I* trust you with my life. But I wasn't only trusting you with *my* life, I was trusting the lives of others, the rest of this team, probably the team back at the gate, too. That's what being in command means. It means I don't just decide for myself, I have to decide for others." Jack paused, knowing he needed to find a way to say what he meant. "Jack O'Neill trusts you. Colonel O'Neill, by necessity, trusts no one. I'd have stopped to think before putting down my weapon if it had been God Himself standing there, asking me to trust blindly in that situation."

They sat quietly again for a few minutes.

Finally, Daniel said, "what I said to Makepeace, about not trusting your command. How did you hear about that?"

"Makepeace threw it back at me during the interrogation. He couldn't wait to tell me all about it, the first chance he got. Gloated about it."

"Sorry."

"Sorry because he said it or because you said it?"

"Both. I don't know why I said it, Jack. It just seemed like the right thing to say at the time. It was my way of agreeing with him about something, a way of leading him on. He just seemed too damned smug about getting to lead SG-1."

"So you gave him the ammo to feel smugger?"

"Smugger? No. Jack, you can't think I never trusted *you.* I trusted you, Jack O'Neill. I just don't trust the rigid military mindset..."

"I'm military, Daniel. That's my mindset. That's who I am."

"No. It's not. Not really. Maybe once you were that rigid, but you aren't now. If you were still that way, like you were at the start of that first mission, I wouldn't have stayed on SG-1 under your command."

Jack snorted. "No one would have. I'd have been dead."

"But you changed. Adapted."

"But you still don't agree with me."

"Not on everything. Never will. I see things differently than you do, but that doesn't change the fact that we can work together," Daniel added.

"And trust each other?"

"Yes."

"Good."

They were silent again for long moments. A tiny moon had risen above the mountains, shedding a very slight dim light across the valley.

"Hmm, nice moons," Jack mumbled.

"Ah, Jack, how many moons do you see?"

O'Neill squinted, closed one eye, looked again, opened both. "Seems like two, but then..." he shrugged.

"Concussion," they both said together.

****************

In the quiet darkness, the sudden sound was loud. A crackling static, cut off in mid-sentence, a jumble of half-heard words.

"Hey, it's the radio," said Daniel, excited. He took the unit from Jack's shoulder and pressed the send key. "Hey, can anybody out there here me? Sam? Teal'c? Coburn? Can you hear me? This is Dr. Jackson. We're stuck on the cliff face, part way down. We ran into some Jaffa, so be careful. But we need assistance here, Jack is injured."

No answer. Daniel could hear Sam's voice, clearly talking to someone, Major Coburn he thought.

"They should have been here by now, and they're not answering the radio," she said, worry plain in her words. "We checked the trail all the way back to the temple, and there's no sign of them."

Coburn answered, "Major, look, we can't go wandering around in the dark looking for them."

"Then let Teal'c and I start back along the trail, retracing our footsteps, tracking them," she insisted.

Bra'tak's voice was heard dimly in the background. "And I will accompany them."

"No," said Coburn. "We stay here until first light. We'll mount a search then. We'd just be endangering more people by traveling on those mountain trails now. And none of you can track in the dark. You might obscure any sign they left."

"Sir..."

"Major Carter, return to the Stargate. At once. That's an order."

Daniel, frustrated, tried again to get through. "Guys, hey, guys, come in! Sam, Teal'c. Coburn! Can anybody hear me? This is Dr. Jackson, and I'm with Colonel O'Neill."

Nothing, no response.

"Guess they're not getting our signal," Jack said resignedly.

"Guess not," Daniel's disappointment was evident in his voice. He sat back down next to Jack, once again pulling the jackets around the two of them as best he could, checking Jack's wound. By the faint moonlight, he could see blood still leaking from the cut but slowly now. "At least it's not bleeding so much," Daniel told him.

"That's good."

"How do you feel?"

"Peachy."

"Stay awake, Jack."

"I'm trying."

Daniel knew he needed to keep talking, keep Jack talking, but the odd thing was, Jack was his best friend and the person he talked with the least. Their friendship wasn't based on talk. It was based on, on, hell, he didn't have a clue. A sort of non-verbal understanding that transcended words, because even when they did talk, they didn't say what they really meant. There was a lot of gentle sparring and often determined ribbing that sometimes went beyond argumentative and got a little testy, to put it nicely, but never discussed anything deep or serious or meaningful, at least on purpose. Hell, they'd probably spoken more serious words to each other in the last couple of hours than they had in the last couple of months.

Daniel realized that even though he considered Jack his best friend, he didn't know much about the man, didn't know the most basic things.

"So, ah, Jack, what's your favorite color?"

"My favorite color?" O'Neill snorted. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Ah, well, it's hours until daylight, and we need to stay awake. Would you rather talk about the ancient gods of Babylon, Mesopotamia or the Nile delta? I'll let you take your pick."

"That would be a no. Definitely a topic that would put me right to sleep, not keep me awake. I already know waaay too much about gods and fake gods and god wannabes."

"Okay then."

"A nap would be nice, though."

"No naps, Jack."

"Crap." O'Neill stayed silent so long Daniel was getting worried the man had dozed off, when suddenly the soft voice said, simply "Blue."

"What?"

"Favorite color. Blue."

"But you don't have anything blue."

"Huh?"

"You don't have a blue house or a blue truck..."

"Blue clothes. Lots of blue clothes.

"Right. Air Force blue. I should have known."

"So what's *your* favorite color?"

"Hmm. Don't have one. Like them all."

"Daniel the diplomat. Likes them all. Hmmph. So, come on, Grasshopper, there must be one you don't like?"

"Not really, there's nothing that really offends me."

"Oh? So you'd wear anything? Like lavender? Lime green? Pink?" Jack paused a moment. "Chartrouse? Peuce?"

"You know peuce? You don't even know what peuce is, " Daniel asked, surprised.

"I know lots of things you'd be surprised that I know."

"Like what?"

"Peuce."

A soft grin crossed Daniel's face. "True."

*********

Daniel dozed, then jerked awake. Damn. He was the one who was supposed to be making sure Jack stayed awake, and here he was the one giving in to his own exhaustion. After all, it had been nearly twenty-four hours since they'd left Earth; he could tell by the dim light of his watch dial. Shifting uncomfortably on the hard rock, he felt Jack's limp weight sagging against his shoulder.

"Jack?" There was no response. "Jack? Wake up!" Panic bit at Daniel. He stuck his fingers against the man's throat, felt the pulse beating steady, pushed the panic aside. "Jack, come on. Wake up. If you are kidding me, I'm going to kill you!" The silence was suddenly deafening. "Please, Jack, don't do this. Come on. You're okay. I know you're okay. You're always okay, even when you're not." God, Daniel, stop rambling, he told himself. Easing forward, his own aches and pains throbbing across his back and shoulders, he shifted himself around to take hold of O'Neill's chin. He could feel the dried blood caked across the strong jaw. Daniel resisted the urge to shake the still form. "Jack, wake up damn it. Now!"

"Hmmm."

"Jack, wake up."

"Go 'way." A hand batted feebly at Daniel's hands.

"No, Jack, you have to wake up."

"Let me sleep."

"You can't. Concussion. Remember?" Daniel moved his hands up to the makeshift bandage he'd wrapped around the cut on Jack's head. "Hold still. I need to check this cut." As gently as he could he unwrapped the cloth. Underneath, the bandage was wet with fresh blood.

"Ow!" Jack complained as fingers touched the throbbing lump on his skull.

"This is still bleeding. I need to put a new bandage on here." Daniel took another piece from his shirt, folded it and put it in place, tying the long cloth back around the gray haired head. As his fingers worked at the bandage, Daniel tried to think of something more he could do. God, they'd come to this planet with such high hopes,and now the child was gone and Jack was hurt, hurt bad. The cut was still bleeding and Jack's groggy state worried him even more. Was it the blood loss? Or the blow to the head? Or he might have other injuries, internal injuries he hadn't mentioned. With a shiver, Daniel suddenly remembered Sam telling how the man had carefully hidden his broken ribs back when they were trapped in Antarctica.

"Ow!"

Jack's protest brought Daniel out of his reverie and back to the job at hand. "Sorry. I know it hurts. Bandaging rock damaged heads was not a part of my doctor of archaeology course."

"Aggh. Jeez, Daniel, well, you flunk bedside manner, that's for sure." Jack mumbled. "You make a lousy medic." And then he added, very softly, words that surprised Daniel. "But you're a good man. And a good friend."

Daniel didn't know how to answer. It was the kind of thing Jack never said, a thing he never expected the man to say and certainly not about him or to him. "Gee, maybe I should hit you over the head with a rock more often, if you're going to start talking nice like that."

"It's true. You're a good man, a good friend. Brother."

Daniel mulled over the words, words he never expected, words that meant a lot to him, because the truth was, different as they were, Daniel respected and admired Jack, and he'd always hoped Jack felt the same about him. He needed to know Jack felt the same. He'd never belonged anywhere, before Abydos, and then he'd lost Abydos and all he'd had there, and he thought SG-1 was something special, something more than just a military assignment, at least it was to him. He hoped Jack accepted him as a friend and a teammate, not just tolerated him because Dr. Jackson was someone he needed to do his job.

He'd always doubted himself, doubted his place at the SGC, no matter how long he'd been there and all they'd done and accomplished together. He'd never quit worrying about whether or not he fit in, because he'd never had a truly permanent home in his whole life. Finally he'd drifted into a sort of shaky acceptance of his place, though the doubts always lingered.

And then Jack had had that undercover assignment. As much as Daniel didn't believe what Jack had said to him that day in his living room, had understood that it was all part of Jack's cover to ferret out the traitors, those words had stung. They'd cut him deeply because they'd tapped into his own latent insecurities. He couldn't forget them, hadn't been able to forget them. And deep in his heart he'd harbored an undeniable hurt over that moment.

"You, too," Daniel finally said.

"Me, too, what?" O'Neill asked, confused.

"You too. You're a good man. A good friend."

"Hmmph. I'm the one with the head injury. I'm allowed to get all mushy. You, you have to be the tough guy tonight." Jack's soft voice trailed away.

"Oh, okay. But you're still a good man. Just sort of high maintenance." Daniel chuckled. "And occasionally annoying."

Jack's voice was barely audible. "Only occasionally? Then I guess I'm not trying hard enough."

******

"Daniel," Jack's voice suddenly sounded odd.

"Jack?"

"I don't feel so good," Jack's voice started to fade out, and then he was leaning away from Daniel, retching again onto the rocks.

When he was done, Daniel pulled him back against his shoulder, feeling him shake with chills despite the jackets wrapped around him. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"My head hurts."

"Well, yes it should. There's a pretty nasty cut and a big lump on it."

"Hmmmm. Tired."

"I know, but you can't sleep."

"Damn. You're worse than Doc."

"No, she's the one who's usually trying to make you sleep, not keep you awake."

"Yeah. She'll prob'ly make me take a couple of days off for this."

Daniel thought about all the blood that had soaked the bandage. "Yes, I'm sure she will."

"Hmm. Bored, I get bored with days off. Nothing to do."

"You? Nothing to do? I doubt that."

"Well, I'd go fishing if someone else would go with me."

"Okay, Jack, I'll go fishing with you. As long as I don't have to actually catch any fish."

Jack sighed. "Geez, Daniel. What good's fishing if you don't catch any fish? And if you come, you can't read any books and just pretend to be fishing."

"Okay, deal. No reading and pretending to fish. As long as you don't fish and pretend to read."

"Hmmph."

A few quiet minutes followed.

"Daniel, you don't have to, you know," Jack said, cryptically.

"Don't have to what?"

"Say you'll go fishing. Just because I asked and you think I'm dying."

Daniel suppressed a shiver of fear. "You're not dying, Jack, you've just got a bump on the head. Hardheaded as you are, a bump on the head is *not* going to kill you."

"Oh, good."

O'Neill chuckled, then fell silent. Daniel felt him take a deep breath. "Daniel, we'll find the kid. I promise. I'll get it right this time, not like with Sha're."

"Sha're wasn't your fault, Jack, not yours or mine or Teal'c's. It was Apophis who was to blame."

Jack blew out a soft breath. "Good. Glad you figured that out. Knew you would, eventually, you bein' such a smart guy and all."

*********

Daniel rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. Was the darkness a little less inky, there, over that way? Could it mean sunrise? He didn't know what time the sun should rise, or where, but he figured it should be happening soon. Real soon, he hoped. Beside him, Jack was still leaning into his shoulder, quiet. The injured man had kept dozing off and he'd found it necessary to wake him at regular intervals. Maybe it was just exhaustion; maybe it was the blood loss and the head injury. He didn't know. He just knew Jack needed a doctor, and sooner was better than later.

Yes, yes it was definitely getting lighter. "Jack?" Daniel asked, softly.

"Hmmm."

"Jack, it's dawn. Over there, see?" Daniel pointed to the now certainly brighter segment of sky. "The sun's coming up. They'll be coming for us, soon now."

There was just enough light for Daniel to make out O'Neill's lids lifting, revealing glazed brown eyes. "Sunrise? Good."

"Hold on for a bit more, eh?"

"Yeah. Sure."

**********

Daniel waited impatiently. There was chatter on the radio now, and silently he begged them to hurry. Search parties were reporting in, but none of them had found where the two of them had been forced to leave the trail. Daniel swore silently in frustration. No one was looking for them down here. The search was going on up around the temple.

Now that it was truly light, Daniel was even more worried about his friend. Jack looked awful, old blood caked on his too-pale face and fresh crimson trailing down his cheek and jaw. Worst of all, he seemed listless, dazed and unfocused.

"Daniel..."

Jack's soft voice broke into his dark thoughts. "Yes, Jack?"

"They aren't finding us," O'Neill stated the obvious, his eyes sliding shut once again.

"They aren't looking here. They didn't find where we left the trail."

O'Neill opened weary, glazed eyes and stared around. "Then we better go find them."

"We're on a ledge halfway down the cliff, Jack, remember? It would be sort of hard to go find them."

"Is there a way up? Or down? Or across?"

Daniel shrugged.

"Did you look?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Then look," Jack ordered.

Shifting carefully, trying not to jar Jack, the SG-1 archaeologist climbed stiffly to his feet, trying to put a minimum amount of weight on his sore ankle. Daniel carefully walked the few steps that he could move safely in any direction, and cautiously leaned out to study the rock face around them. After a couple of minutes, he returned to kneel beside Jack. "There might be a way, it's steep and narrow, but *you* can't climb it."

"The hell I can't." Jack squinted in the direction where Daniel was pointing, able to make out cracks in the cliff face that seemed to give good purchase for hands and feet. Ten or fifteen yards, maybe, and then another ledge that was wide enough to walk on and gave access to the hillside beyond. Piece of cake, if he was healthy. Big if, at the moment, he thought dubiously. "That looks climbable," he insisted stubbornly.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Daniel demanded, displaying two digits.

"What does that have to do with climbing off this ledge?"

"Just answer the question, Jack. How many fingers?"

O'Neill squinted, then guessed. "Three."

"Uh huh. You're concussed, dizzy and disoriented, definitely not in any condition to climb anywhere."

"Ah, guess it wasn't three, then, huh?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, doesn't matter. We need to go."

"Jack, yes, we need to get out of here and get you to a doctor, but falling off this damn mountainside won't do a thing to cure your concussion."

"Don't imagine it would."

"Be patient. Wait. They'll find us."

"Damnit Daniel, they won't. They don't know where to look," Jack sat up quickly, then sank back, dizzy, closing his eyes. "Arrrrrrggghhhh."

"You can't even sit up, Jack. You can't climb."

"We need to. We don't have any water and I'm not going to sit here all day, hoping they find us. I'm okay if I move slow. So help me up." Jack stuck up a hand, and unhappily, Jackson stood and clasped it. O'Neill came slowly vertical, wavering unsteadily, closing his eyes as the vertigo flared. He staggered.

Daniel grabbed Jack's shoulders, steadying him. "Easy, easy."

Jack slowly opened one eye, then, experimentally, the other, licking dry lips. "Ah, yeah, okay. I'd be okay if the damned ground quit moving."

"Jack, the ground's not moving."

"I know," he snapped, once again closing his eyes.

Daniel stared at the narrow piece of rock ledge that seemed to lead to safety. "Sure you can do this," he asked, worried.

Jack opened one eye, glaring. "Not much choice is there?"

"Maybe I should go first, then."

"No, I've got more experience. Let me go and I'll take my time."

Daniel was still worried. "You're pretty dizzy."

"Daniel, I've been climbing mountains since you were in grade school. I can do it with my eyes closed. And in fact, that's the best way to do it. By feel. So just let me." Jack stepped up on the first rock, fingers reaching and clinging expertly to the cracked cliff face, taking a step, then another, opening one eye to glare at the rock before moving on. Slowly, one handhold at a time, one cautious footstep at a time, he moved carefully, making steady progress across the fifteen yards of sheer rock. Fifteen yards, forty-five feet, not far, not far at all. A quarter, a third, halfway to the safety of the large, level ledge that would get them back to the trail. Jack was moving surely, seeming to have things well in hand.

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief, and then Jack stopped.

"Hey, Jack, you okay? Jack!" O'Neill's eyes were closed tight. "Jack."

O'Neill's eyes were still closed, his face set in a grimace.

"Jack?"

"I'm just a little dizzy."

"Okay," Daniel soothed, "just take a minute." He saw Jack swallow, and the brown eyes open.

Immediately, they slammed shut again as a wave of vertigo caused him to sway.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Jack, easy. Come on. You need to move to your right. It's only a little ways further. A few more feet."

"Move. Yeah. Sure. Okay." Eyes still tightly closed, Jack nodded. "I just need a little steadying here," he added.

"Sure. I'll stay right here, talk you through it."

"Good," the eyes were still closed but the voice was soft. "I'll be okay as long as I've got someone to rely on, someone I trust." O'Neill said very softly.

"I’m here," Daniel answered. It seemed like hours but Daniel knew only minutes had passed before O'Neill carefully maneuvered the last four, five, six, seven steps, and sank down on the safe surface of the remaining section of trail.

Now it was his turn. Daniel took a deep breath, stared at the ledge, realizing that somehow it seemed twice as narrow now that *his* feet were trying to stay on it. He swallowed, gulping down an unsteady breath, closing his eyes and reopening them, discovering nothing was changed. He was still here, Jack was still there, and the ledge was still narrow, way too narrow. Daniel took one tentative step, then another, feeling the sweat break out on his skin despite the early morning chill.

A step, and his ankle buckled. He hadn't told Jack how much it hurt, sprained probably, in the mad slide down the hill.

"Daniel?" Jack's face was grim, the bleary eyes focused sharply on him. "You okay?"

"Ah, would now be a good time to tell you I'm afraid of heights?"

"Not especially, but it's okay," Jack ignored the pounding in his skull, increasing every second he kept his eyes open and watched Daniel. "Just take a step. First one is the hardest."

Daniel gritted his teeth, ignored the pain shooting up his calf, and made himself take another step. Tiny, baby step, but a step nonetheless.

"Good. Don't look down, look over here," Jack ordered softly.

Gratefully, Daniel let his eyes drift over to where Jack waited, to where Jack needed his help. How many times had he depended on the man, taken him for granted, knowing he'd always be there to help? So, this time it was his turn to return the favor.

Cautiously, he took one step, sliding his foot along the ledge, then another and another, his hands sweat slicked against the cool rock face. Don't look down; don't look at your feet. Focus on the rock in front of your face, focus on the need to get help for Jack.

"That's it, keep coming, almost here," Daniel could hear the exhaustion in O'Neill's voice, and something more, too. Taking a deep breath, and forcing his shaky knees to cooperate, he concentrated on ordering his right foot to take another step, and then his left, and another and another. Ignore the pain in the ankle, ignore everything but the need to get over there, over to Jack.

Somehow, at last, he reached Jack's side. He dropped to the ground, taking deep shuddering breaths, staring over at his friend.

Jack grinned crookedly. "We're a pair, aren't we?"

Daniel closed his eyes. "Oh yeah, that we are."

***********

On the trail at last, Jack's left arm thrown over Daniel's shoulder, Daniel's right hand wrapped around O'Neill's waist, it was only an easy sixty yards, and they were away from the cliff and under the canopy of trees.

A half dozen steps into the trees, Jack's knees suddenly went wobbly and he slid awkwardly out of Daniel's grasp, crumpling to the ground, eyes closed, sighing wearily.

"Hmmm."

"You okay?"

The brown eyes stayed closed. "Not really, Grasshopper. Give me a minute." He breathed deeply for a long moment, then opened his eyes, looking up to Daniel, extending a hand upward. "Give me a hand up, would ya?"

"Jack, it's a long walk back to the Stargate. Maybe I should go for help?"

"Naw. We'll make it fine, together." Jack waved the hand again, and Daniel grasped it. O'Neill hauled himself upright, swaying, wrapping one arm around Daniel's shoulder for support.

Leaning on one another, they headed down the trail, trusting they'd make it home okay.