Tag for Legacy
Loaded Syringe Challenge
Word Count: 1,194
Warnings: Never use a fork to get toast out of the toaster when it’s turned on. Oh, and take your insulin before reading this.
Jack O’Neill climbed out of his car and stood for a moment in the driveway leading up to Daniel’s house. He wasn’t sure what had led him to drive out here tonight, a night when normally he’d have headed straight home once the latest disaster had been averted at the SGC and curled up in front of the TV with a cold beer and a warm remote. It wasn’t like Daniel really needed him here. Janet had given him the all clear and sent him home to rest. Daniel had certainly seemed happy enough with that. One minute he’d been there, in the infirmary, next to Teal’c’s bed, the next time Jack had looked for him he was gone and Sam said he’d gone home.
Which brought his circular meandering thoughts back to square one. Here Jack stood on Daniel Jackson’s driveway and he still had no real reason why he was here.
“You going to stand in my driveway all night, Jack?” Daniel’s voice called from the front of the house and Jack looked up, surprised to see the door standing open. Shrugging, he headed up the walkway and into the house.
“I’m in here.” Daniel’s head poked out through the bathroom doorway. “Grab yourself a beer. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jack detoured through to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Wincing at the six pack of microbrew sitting on the shelf, he pulled two out nonetheless and popped the top off one, taking a healthy swig on his way back to the living room. When Daniel walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later he handed him the other one then looked him over appraisingly. “You look like crap,” he said, noting the pallor of Daniel’s face and the slight shake in his hand as he took the beer.
‘Thanks,” Daniel said shortly. He popped the top off his own bottle and sipped at it then raised an interrogatory eyebrow at Jack. “What’s up?” A frown creased his forehead. “Is Teal’c okay? I thought Janet said he’d be fine-“
“He is fine,” Jack said quickly. “Look, I gotta be honest with you. I’m not sure why I’m here. I guess I was a little worried about you.”
Daniel slumped down on the couch. “I’m fine. Janet said so.” He rubbed at his arm with his free hand, wincing a little then gulped a swallow of his beer and put the bottle down on the table. “Look, no offence, Jack, but I’m not feeling so hot right now so if you don’t mind-“ His face paled suddenly and he slapped a hand over his mouth then leapt to his feet, stumbling away toward the bathroom.
“Daniel!” Jack slammed the beer bottle down onto the kitchen counter then ran after him, knocking on the half-open door when he reached it. “You okay?”
Sounds of retching greeted his call and he grimaced, automatically taking a step back from the door then when Daniel still didn’t respond he set his jaw, figuratively dialled down his sense of smell and stepped into the bathroom.
Daniel was kneeling in front of the toilet, his head resting on the seat, panting for breath.
“Hey.” Jack knelt behind him and reached out a tentative hand, using it to rub up and down Daniel’s back gently when Daniel didn’t respond.
It took a few minutes but finally Daniel sat back on his haunches and took in a shaky breath. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Janet warned me about no booze but…” His voice trailed off and he placed a hand on the toilet seat and hauled himself to his feet, almost stumbling as he did.
Jack stood quickly and grabbed for his arm before he could take a header into the bathroom sink.
Daniel hissed and pulled his arm out of Jack’s grasp then moved over to the ink on still unsteady legs, bent and rinsed his face under the cold water from the faucet.
Jack moved around behind him, grabbed a towel off the rack and handed it to him. “What’s wrong with your arm?” he asked as Daniel led the way out fo the bathroom. “And what’s with the throwing up? I thought Fraiser said you were okay.”
“Just a little reaction to Dr. McKenzie’s loaded syringe,” Daniel snapped back. He stopped next to the kitchen counter then walked around it to the fridge and poured himself a glass of water from the jug inside. He sipped at it slowly for a moment then looked over at Jack and sighed. “Sorry. None of this is anyone’s fault. I’m fine now. I just need to go sleep it off.”
“Not yet,” Jack replied, leaning back to rest against the opposite counter. “I didn’t get to say what I came here to say yet and I still want an explanation for what’s wrong with you and why Fraiser let you out when you’re clearly not fit.”
“I’m fine… mostly,” Daniel said. “Janet warned me I might have a reaction to the drugs McKenzie was giving me.” He grimaced then put down the glass and rolled up his sleeve, holding his arm out for Jack to see.
Jack stepped forward and grasped Daniel’s wrist gently. “Jesus!” he cursed as he saw the myriad needle marks and bruises that discoloured Daniel’s skin. “How often were they injecting you with that stuff?”
Daniel shrugged, took his arm out of Jack’s hold and pulled down his sleeve. “Every time I asked to see him once I realized what was going on,” he said, “plus a few other times when I first got there that I don’t remember much about at all… apart from what I thought were nightmares about the Linvris coming for me and that you and McKenzie obviously thought were hallucinations.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Jack said.
“No reason you should have,” Daniel replied. “I’m not sure I would have believed you if you’d been in my place.”
“The difference is you wouldn’t have just left me there,” Jack said, guilt almost overwhelming him as he remembered the fear he’d seen on Daniel’s face when he’d turned away from him and left him in that padded room.
“You had other responsibilities, Jack. I don’t blame you.” He gave Jack a small smile. “Is that what you came here to tell me?”
Jack shrugged. “I guess.”
“Forget it. It’s over. We all survived. Just maybe the next time I tell you there’s a Stargate in my closet, check it out first before you send me to the loony bin.”
“So,” Jack grabbed Daniel’s arm again and towed him out of the kitchen and over to the sofa, pushing him down to sit on it, “guess sitting up late watching the hockey and getting mildly drunk is out of the question tonight?”
Daniel leaned his head back against the cushions and smiled ruefully. “Till these drugs are completely out of my system, I’m afraid so.”
“Tell you what,” Jack said, “I don’t like to brag but I make a mean can of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Think you can handle that?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.” Daniel nodded. “Thanks.”