Untitled

Absolution

Head in his hands, Jack sat on the edge of the hospital seat in Colorado County General. This was all because of him. A massive headache spread across his temples and he refused to go to the front desk and ask for some painkillers. He deserved to suffer, after what he did; he deserved every little bit of pain. Jack looked up. He never, ever, wanted to be in this Emergency room again. Not after Charlie, Not after his attempt to deal with his clone from the crystal planet he had gated to after a couple weeks after he had lost Skaara and Kawalsky. But he was here. And it was all because of one drink. A couple seats away Sam was staring blankly at a wall, and General Hammond had a comforting hand around her shoulder. Teal'c was also there. A Colorado baseball cap tucked neatly under his brow to hide the marking of a Jaffa warrior, loyal to Apophis. He was guarding the General and Sam like his life depended on it, glancing at times towards him, giving him looks of pure hatred. Jack put his head into his hand a wondered why this had happened....

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The wormhole blossomed in front of the General, distinct sirens blared in the background as teams of defense lined the floor behind him. The iris opened with a screech of metal upon metal and retracted into the naquada gate. The loudspeaker behind him announced the arrival of SG1. Four figures stumbled out of the event horizon and stood, their faces smiling.
"So, as I was saying, Daniel was looking at some artifacts when some nut bird starts picking at his notes. You should have seen the look on Daniel's face when he was trying to catch the bird." The team burst into hearty laughter and the Stargate shut down behind them. Jack finally finished his story and saluted to the General. "All's well sir. Nothing interesting to report." He barely kept a straight face. "Except.." Jack ducked as Daniel gave him an annoyed glance and swept a hand at Jack's head.
"Jack! You promised you wouldn't tell!" Jack grinned and straightened.
The General smiled slightly and dismissed the team. "Debriefing in 0100 hours SG1, welcome home." The team exited the Gate room to go to the infirmary and then hit the showers.

"There was no sign of civilization but some ancient writing. The Goa'uld must have wiped them out. Their written history ends quite abruptly."
"I concur," the massive Jaffa ended Daniel's sentence. Daniel peered over his glasses at Teal'c.
"Anyway, I brought some footage which I bet some scientists might enjoy playing with, but really, there's nothing of value on the planet."
"Amen," Jack said, tapping his papers into an orderly pile. "Nothing to add General," he concluded. Sam also shook her head and Teal'c stared impassively at the General.
"Alright people. You are free to go. I'll see you at 0800 hours tomorrow." The team looked at each other and smiled. Sam stood and said she wanted to do some work on the Goa'uld device she brought back from Cimmeria, and Teal'c followed her. The General stood and exited the room until only Daniel and Jack were left. Daniel stood, organizing his papers and grabbing the bunch of books in front of him. Jack stood as well.
"Hey Danny, you want to come over to my place and have a beer or something?" Daniel peered over his glasses.
"Nah, maybe tomorrow. I have some work here to catch up on." He started for the door, juggling all the material in his hands. Jack followed him.
"Come on. Don't you know all work and no play makes Danny-boy a very boring person?" Daniel rolled his eyes. Nicking one of his books on the hallway wall.
"Oh crap," Daniel said softly as all his books went falling. Getting onto his knees he started to gather them up. Jack also bent over; gingerly picking up books as a bunch of soldiers ran past as the Klaxon alert sounded, warning incoming travelers. Daniel finished gathering up pieces of paper and he made his way down to his office. Jack, noticing his disappearing friend, ran after him.
"Come on Daniel! Just this once, for me!" he sounded persistent.
Daniel sighed, reading between the lines. Obviously Jack had something important to tell him or he wouldn't be bugging him that much. Unlocking his office and dumping his books on his already cluttered office desk. "Alright I guess this once." Jack let out a whoop and headed for the door, dragging Daniel behind him. Daniel gave his research one longing look then shut the door, locking it. He wasn't even done turning the key before Jack pulled him away; making sure the young man was in tow. They past the security points, flashing the necessary ID information and saying goodbye to their friends. Jack finally dumped Daniel in the front seat of his all terrain jeep and slotted the key in. He revved his engine, turned the radio on and set it to his favorite radio station. Daniel stuck his tongue out at Jack's familiar classical music.
"For once, could I choose the radio station?"
Jack nodded. "Knock yourself out." Daniel fiddled the knobs until he got to his favorite station. Cranking up the volume he sat back. Jack rolled his eyes as he listened to something that resembled something between rock 'n' roll and heavy metal. The radio announcer's voice signed on saying something about a music group called Chumbawumba, and blaring some more music. Jack let himself drift as he listened to the Music.

I get no down, but I get up again, you'll never gonna keep me down
I get no down, but I get up again, you'll never gonna keep me down
I get no down, but I get up again, you'll never gonna keep me down
I get no down, but I get up again, you'll never gonna keep me down

Kissin' the night away, Kissin the night away

It takes a whisky drinker, it takes a vodka drinker, it takes a lager drinker, it takes a cider drinker he sings songs that remind him of the bad times, he sings songs that remind him of the better times...
Poor Danny-boy, Danny-boy, Danny-boy...

Kissin' the night away, Kissin' the night away

It takes a whiskey drinker, it takes a vodka drinker, it takes a lager drinker, it takes a cider drinker he sings that remind him of the bad times, he sings songs that remind him of the better times...
Don't cry for me, next door neighbor...

As the music drowned away Jack took a sidelong glance at Daniel. Whether he realized it or not, it sounded a lot like his life. Daniel just kept drumming his hands on his thighs in time with the music. Jack's sprawling house came into view and He parked in the driveway, shutting off the radio and turning off the idling engine. Daniel gave Jack a down cast look.
"Hey, I happen to like that song." Jack whistled through his teeth.
"Come on. I won't spend my day in a car, listening to a weird group that probably look weirder than they sound." Daniel gave him a glance. Taking his snidness for granted. He opened the door, and walked out onto the long paved driveway.
"So, what do you have planned?"
Jack grinned mischievously. "I heard of this cool place in town where there's great music, dancing and girls." He wiggled his eyebrows, looking previously at Daniel.
"You know, I am married..." Jack looked at him sourly.
"Just for fun Danny-boy, come on. Don't be such a wet blanket." Daniel rolled his eyes, and nodded a yes. "Please, could we at least go to my place so I could get changed" he pointed to his fatigues. "I don't think we're going to infiltrate the place." Jack nodded.
"Yeah, we can chill at your place for a while so we can go at eleven or something like that. I wanna change before we go to your place too. I'll bring some beers, maybe a bottle of Vodka too." Daniel looked at him.
"I guess I'm the designated driver for this evening."
"That's an if. If I don't like the place were not going to stay there!"
"If, huh?"
"Yep." Jack walked to his front steps. He turned back to Daniel. "Are you going to wait here and dig up some rocks or are you coming in?"
"Artifacts," Daniel said absent-mindedly. Jack grinned.
"Whatever."
Daniel headed up the steps after his friend. "And besides, I don't think you have anything worth digging up in your yard. I've seen Egyptian tombs cleaner than your place." He grinned. Jack sighed. He was beaten.
"Fine, Stay here and make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a sec." Daniel sat down on Jack's ancient overstuffed couch, which he had probably slept in more times than he could remember. Basically, his apartment was useless except for storage for his numerous books. The floor above him creaked, indicating that Jack was either on his bed or walking around. Daniel stepped to the mantle place over the fire pit and inspected the pictures in their dull frames. Daniel smiled. Some of the pictures were of SG1. There was the one where they went off world to discover the 'Shangri-La' - the hidden paradise - and Jack had sneaked a camera with him. Daniel remembered the scene because he had just fallen into a pit of mud, and was completely covered in muck. This was after he had pulled Sam in, and she was grinning as he fell back in after trying to get Teal'c to join in unsuccessfully. He picked up another framed picture, his mind wandering. P3X 455. This was also another of those Kodak moments. Sam had climbed up a tree, and he had followed because she said something about ancient writings. Unfortunately she was joking and as soon as he looked down he wouldn't move. Considering he was about his height down, he was petrified and wouldn't come. The picture caught Sam trying to coax him down unsuccessfully. Teal'c finally had to grab his feet and pull him down; catching him in the midst of time. Jack had also gotten a picture of that. But the picture was slightly blurred, showing that Jack was laughing, but Daniel could see himself clearly, glasses askew, giving a look of death to Teal'c. Sam was in the background rolling on the forest floor in laughter. Daniel couldn't help but laugh at the photo. Numerous others lined the brick attachment, and Daniel picked up another one. This one was a serious photo. It was the time Daniel had been recovering from the after effects of the sarcophagi from Klorel's ship. Daniel remembered how fatigued he was, only the strength of his friends kept him going. Jack had insisted that they take this picture, so that they would always be with each other, no matter what happened. Daniel put the photo down. His eyes trailing to the far side, where he saw a photo partially cowering in the shadows. He frowned slightly and picked it up, its frame was covered in dust, like an ancient relic. He blew off the dust and realized this was in the gate room, but it seemed that there was everybody on base was there. There was a man playing the trumpet on the right side of the photo, and Daniel saw Teal'c standing by a raised podium, a neatly folded flag clutched in his arms. In the middle of the photo, void of emotion, Jack stood, along side Sam, holding a wreath. Sam looked ready to burst into tears, and was bathed in a blue halo of light. Jack just stood there. His eyes seemed to look into the oblivion as if he were ready to jump in, yet he also was hesitant to touch it. Daniel wondered when this had been taken. He never remembered a funeral. If this was Kawalsky's, it didn't seem right. Ferretti should have been holding the other side of the wreath.
"It's your funeral. When we thought you were dead, and left you on Onneas." Jack's voice startled him out of his revelry, almost losing hold of the picture frame; he put it back carefully where he had left it and turned to his friend.
"Jack! How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," the older man grinned impishly. He tossed his duffel bag on the sofa and retreated to the kitchen. His voice filtered through the open doorway as Daniel once again took a seat beside Jack's bag. "I hope you don't mind, but we'll stay at your place for a while."
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Daniel said absent-mindedly, his attention now focused on Jack's assortment of CD's. Jack exited his kitchen, carrying a bottle of Vodka and some other 'refresments'. He tossed them into his bag and slapped Daniel's hand away from his CD's.
"Goddaam it Jackson! My house isn't one of your burial sites! I live here!" Daniel sheepishly put his hands in his lap.
"Well there's nothing else to do around here but sit."
"There is a TV you know."
"I don't watch TV."
"Is there anything you do do that is normal?" Daniel gave Jack a sidelong glance. He sighed and hopped to his feet. "Come on. I don't plan to spend my day sitting here." Jack grinned again and grabbed his bag. He tossed Daniel his car keys. "You drive. I pick the music." Daniel grabbed the keys and ran for the car.

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Jack looked again at the set of doors. He wondered when they would finally come out. It had been an hour since he had looked at the clock last, and he had been here an hour and a half waiting to see if his friend was still all right. Sam had stopped crying and was reading an old magazine, not paying attention to whatever she was reading, just looking at the doors. Teal'c was still standing. The General looked tired beyond his years, staring forenly at the floor. Jack felt left out of the loop, and he grabbed his coat. Hell with this, he said to himself and got up. Why was he waiting? It wasn't like Daniel was going to see him. Not after what he had done. Flinging his forgotten coat over his shoulder, he stalked out, wincing as his bandaged arm bumped against his mid section. He scowled deeply, unaware that the three figures were watching him. As he got into his car, he revved the engine and left the parking lot, not knowing where to go, just going. As he drove, he thought back again...

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The Jeep careened down the highway, its tailgate barely missing the thickly dense forest on it's right. Daniel sat in the driver's seat; oblivious of Jack's startled reaction.
"Jackson! I still want this car! It's practically new!"
Daniel finally glanced to his CO and best friend. "Isn't that what you live for? Thrills? Chills?"
"A psychopathic team member?" Jack concluded, his knuckles white as he held onto the Jeep's interior.
"Hmm?" Daniel barely gave him a glance as he swung the Jeep past another hair-raising turn.
"Nothing." Jack said, his mind now fully on the road. Considering Daniel was terribly afraid of heights, he did a good job at scaring others. Jack tightly closed his eyes as they finally slowed and entered the shady outskirts of the nearby Colorado town. Spray painted buildings and garbage strew streets past and Jack allowed himself to sit up. This wasn't the best part of town, and Daniel knew it. Unfortunately it was the closest place he had been able to find to the Mt. Cheyenne facility, and Any other place was either too expensive, to outdated (funny that Daniel should ever say that considering his hobbies) or too far away. They past the dark alleyways and got to Daniel's apartment. Although a bit nicer than the rest of the buildings that dwarfed it, it seemed out of place. An overdressed doorman seemed to always stand in the door, and as Daniel put the car into park he waved.
"Hey James! How's it hanging?" The other man's eyes seemed to brighten when he saw the young archeologist.
"Hey Doctor J, long time no see. Partying again I see." Daniel nodded empathetically. His eyes registering the fact that the police line in an alleyway across the building was being taken down.
"So, did they solve it?" Daniel asked, tilting his head.
"Yes, they found the prostitute's murderer, thanks to your description." The older man seemed to sadden, then brighten up. "But, they have been asking who put in that call," he said.
"You didn't tell them," Daniel asked nervously, his eyes darting wildly.
"No, I didn't, just as you asked.
"Thanks." Daniel was completely oblivious to Jack the entire time he was talking to the older man. He seemed to contemplate his friends existence then turned to Jack. "James, this is Jack. My best friend, you know the one I told you about."
James scrutinized Jack carefully, as if trying to memorize his appearance. "Yes, I remember. He doesn't look as old as you say he is though."
Jack deliberately tuned to Daniel who had suddenly found a mark on the scuffed street more interesting than the ensuing conversation. "I see, it's a shame I haven't heard about you. You seem like a pretty decent man yourself." Jack forced a smile. "Well, it's been nice talking to you." Jack grabbed his bag, nodding to the older man and entering the doorway. Daniel smiled at James and also walked in, waving a good-bye. As Jack stood by the elevator doors, he wondered why Daniel felt so embarrassed about the conversation.
"Jackson? Hello? Are you in there?" Daniel stirred from his catatonic musings.
"Hmm?" He looked at Jack distractedly. Jack had an overwhelming urge to ruffle his hair, like a little child's. He looked forlorn, and at the same time seemed to shrink into a child in an adult's body. Startling himself with those thoughts, Jack smiled.
"Just wondering," he said, "Just wondering," he repeated under his breath.

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Jack drove and drove, his mind not registering that he had been driving in circles for the last hour. His car coughed, spluttered then died. Out of gas. Jack swore and hit the steering wheel. Realizing it was futile trying to coax life back into the machine, he swore again and got out of the car. Still visibly upset he kicked the car, making a little dent and this made Jack even angrier. Slamming the door shut, he stalked into the dense Colorado forest and disappeared into the darkness. After he had gone a measurable distance, he came to a fast flowing river. Looking darkly at the obstacle, he sat down to think.

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The elevator stopped, and Daniel raised the gate that covered the elevators only way out. The dimly lit hallway came to view as Daniel pulled the horizontal doors away. Compared to the bright lights in the rickety elevator, it seemed almost as dismal as the streets below. On one side, Jack saw a pile of garbage, set aside and undesposed. The walls on either side of him were covered in spray paint, the aftermath of a bunch of rebellious teens. Jack winced as the sound of fighting reached his ears, unnaturally loud in the dim darkness. Daniel seemed to be oblivious to it all. Jack wondered what had possessed him to live in such a place like this. It wasn't as if the military didn't pay him enough to get himself a decent place. Daniel finally came to his door; it seemed relatively untouched compared to all the spray painted walls along side and across it. The only visible marking was the ujat, the eye of Ra which Jack recognized from their first mission, Abydos. Daniel shoved his door open and walked in. Bright sunlight assaulted his eyes, the windows were wide open, a fresh breeze seemed to come from a window, but actually a fan blew wind to and for from that general location. Compared to most places Jack had seen, this was the one that struck him as the best. Light vanilla breezes wafted through the room from an incense candle long burned out, and hanging plants of all sizes littered the room. Jack had rarely come to Daniel's apartment. The only time he could remember was when he was packaging things when Daniel had supposedly died. And that was a completely different apartment. The other time was when he helped move Daniel's stuff in. It was relatively messier and less spray painted before. But this place was beautiful. A large fish tank dwarfed one side of the room; fish of all sorts swam to and fro, oblivious to the newcomers. Daniel reached into an earthen bowl on one side of his cramped hallway and sorted through his mail.
"Bills, bills, bills," Daniel said softly under his breath, tossing them onto his kitchen table, along with a set of keys and a book that was on his table. It was a new book, something about ancient Celtic culture. Jack turned into the adjoining living room. The fish now crowded in his direction. Daniel, noticing their reaction grabbed a bag of something off his kitchen counter, which was separated only by a large, rectangular cut out, and approached them. Grabbing the bag and opening a hole that was hinged and inserted in the wall above the aquarium, he stuck his hand into the bag and spread the fish food across the water. The fish swam delicately upward and nibbled on the food. Satisfied, Daniel closed the hole and tapped the thick glass, watching his tropical fish eat. Jack took a seat on the white couch that was covered in an ancient cream-colored garb, which spread the length of it. He watched as Daniel inserted the book he had found on his table into the large bookshelf built into the wall.
"How," Jack started, "Do you manage to keep this place so damn clean when we're gone all the time?" Daniel looked at him and shrugged.
"I have an agreement with James. I pay him to take care of my place while I'm gone. I'll I have to do is tell him in advance. In fact, he helped me decorated this place with low cost. You see, this is why I live here. Everybody's nice to me." Jack nodded.
"So, What's with the sign on the door?"
"The ujat?"
"Yeah."
"It means stay away. Well, that's what I told the kids in the building. They think I'm some tough guy," a smile graced his fair features. "Ha, think of that." Jack couldn't help but smile as well. He stood and walked the length of the room until he came to the large picture windows. He looked down to the street below. In clear view he saw the alleyway where the police lines had been just a few minutes ago.
"Also, I've been meaning to ask you, why don't you want anybody to know you solved that case, or helped with it?" Daniel looked at him, his expression, one of uncharacteristic street sense.
"That's how it is in this part of town. You either have a reputation or you have nothing. A street-smart thing to do is to forget you ever told. People have friends. Dangerous friends." Jack nodded, finally understanding why Daniel had been afraid when James mentioned it. Jack looked towards Daniel again, a confused expression etched upon his face. "Most murders happen in the midst of the night, what, do you watch the streets or something?"
"No, I can't sleep, this town's a restless one. One tends not to sleep in a restless town. That's why I sack out at your place most of the time. Your place is a haven, this place," he gestured vaguely at the room, "Is more of a study." Jack nodded. Daniel retreated to a room that led from the kitchen to somewhere else. Jack sat on the windowsill and listened to Daniel speak from his room.
"If your thinking how I keep this place so neat, when everywhere else I go turns into a mess, I don't have time to generate one down here, as it is, I rarely come here anyway." He popped his head out of his doorway, buttoning up one of his ever so present plaid shirts, "Seeing that I usually land in the infirmary after a mission." Jack snorted.
"You can say that again." It seemed that every time Daniel had ever gone on a mission, he had either been killed, hurt or emotionally torn. Jack wondered if that was why people thought he was so tough, him constantly being covered in bandages. Jack thought it was more of an act of stupidity than some sort of fashion statement. Snorting decisively again, he stood up. Heading for the kitchen he tried to locate a glass, unfamiliar, the room seemed to triple in size as he searched fruitlessly. Daniel's voice unnaturally loud came from his doorway.
"Third shelf, top right." He said dryly his eyes unwavering. Jack smiled thinly and grabbed a glass. He walked back to the room and waited for Daniel to join him with his own glass. Unzipping his duffel bag he brought out a bottle of strong beer, Daniel stopped in the doorway. Considering it was only eight O'clock, and Jack would probably drink 'till eleven, Daniel felt uneasy. He had seen his CO at times become very violent. Trusting his friend, more than the officer he had become, Daniel gingerly took a seat on the other side of the white couch, on the two-seater loveseat. Jack, who had filled his, gestured wth his full glass with a questioning look in his eyes. Daniel sighed.
"I guess one won't hurt." Jack grinned, and the two friends clinked their glasses together.
"Friends forever Danny-boy." Jack said
"Friends forever," Daniel echoed, and they toasted.

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Jack sighed. A car passed the road he had been on no more than half an hour ago. Holding his breath, he hoped the car wouldn't stop. As the car passed Jack let out the breath he had been holding. His eyes prickled with tears he never thought would come. He never let himself cry, not since Charlie, ever. Daniel was his Charlie in a way. It was unfortunate that he had realized this a little too late. Jack realized that he needed help. He had a problem. A drinking problem. Due to Sarah's insistence on the AA meetings he had loathed so much, he had stopped abusing drinks for a long time. Instead he began to smoke, one cigarette a day became two, than three, than a whole pack. Sarah had to banish him from the house soon after. Then Charlie died. Then, not only did he smoke heavily; he also began to drink. And he kept drinking. He had not been willing to admit to his friends that he had a drinking problem but he had, in fact, been able to keep it under control when they were around. Yesterday was no exemption. He let it go too far. There was no excuse for that. Burying his head in his hands, his body began to shudder with dry sobs. He could not find the strength to leech tears from his exhausted and battered body.

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"Jack." It was a simple statement, void of expression, not fiction but fact. It was ten o'clock. In addition to drinking all the hard liquor in his bag, he had also cleaned out Daniel's supply of foreign beer. This was out of control, and Daniel realized it. Around nine o'clock, Daniel was afraid. Jack had thrown one of the bottles of brandy against the wall, it shattered, thankfully empty, raining thousands of shards of glass on the white tiles. Daniel had gotten up and swept up the small pieces, making sure that Jack could not throw any other bottles at the walls. Tiny shards of glass pierced his hands as he bent over to pick them up. Soon, red specks of blood mingled with broken glass. Jack had laughed drunkenly as Daniel took an intake of breath as he tried to pick shards of glass from in his hands. Daniel shivered. This wasn't at all like his friend. After rescuing the other bottles by the floor beside Jack, Daniel had sat down to watch his friend unmercifully drink bottle after bottle of weak, water-diluted beer, which Daniel had given him. Roaring in anger, Jack had ordered Daniel to bring him proper beer. Hot tears of rage silently tracked down Daniel's face as another bottle careened into his wall. Soon he would have to break it to Jack he no longer had any refreshments. This scared Daniel. More than he cared to admit to himself. Jack was always calm, cool and in control, never had he let on that he had a drinking problem. Soon the last bottle of fine wine disappeared down Jack's throat and Jack's eyes, glazed with want and desire flared.
"More." He said, his alcohol-fogged mind finally focusing on Daniel's blurry image.
"I'm sorry Jack. I don't have anything else." Outside he appeared calm and composed but inside he was in turmoil, pure brick-shitting terror etched itself across every blackboard in his mind. The man in front of him was not his friend, he was an illusion, somebody else that had traded bodies and wanted more, a little devil that seemed to shade Jack's perphepial vision and made him see red where his friends used to be. Jack's eyes narrowed, and he stood to his full height, towering over his friend who cowered.
"I don't believe you." He stalked towards the kitchen, his back hunched now, looking for whatever would quell the unthinkable thirst inside of him. Daniel shut his eyes in fear, sounds of crashing plates echoed through the room, followed by muted curses and unthinkable thoughts. Daniel felt the hot tears return as the tinkling of glass being shattered seemed to rebrivarate through his head. No once did he move to stop Jack, not once did he move to wipe away the embarrassing moisture from his eyes. Jack stormed back into the living room area; Daniel wouldn't turn to acknowledge his friend's appearance. This seemed to infuriate Jack more and he grabbed Daniel by the shoulders. As he was violently twisted about he prayed silently that somehow, whatever in Jack's mind had gone haywire, would snap back into reality and give him the dignity to say 'stop' and think what the hell he was doing. As he faced Jack, he saw the look of pure want, pure need in his eyes and he realized that this was what Jack was talking about all those months ago when they were in that storage room, Jack facing a gun and Daniel at the brink of his emotions. This was what he meant when Daniel was addicted to the sarcophagus; he was addicted to alcohol. And if Daniel couldn't do something fast it would end almost the same way. Except Jack would pull the trigger. Jack himself was the gun, able to kill without remorse, a puppet the military could use at it's own free will. And now, Daniel was going to feel what if felt like to be at the end of a cocked gun, itching to fire.
"Where is the alcohol?" Jack's voice wavered with need.
"I don't have any." Daniel said, hoping his voice did not belay the feelings he was terrified to let out.
"Where's my keys?" Jack said, his voice seemingly low and deadly.
"I'm sorry Jack," Daniel said, fear clearly evident on his pale features. "I can't let you out. Not in this state." Jack seemed at a loss of words and Daniel had an insane feeling that maybe, just maybe it would be all right. A sharp backhand that left a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach banished the thought. Looking into Jack's deep ridden eyes that gleamed madness he prayed that he would pass out now, to spare himself the pain. Unwilling to show his CO that he was hurt or angered in any way, he kept down the tears that welled up at the sides of his eyes. Jack saw that struggle and he leaned over, until the two men almost touched noses. Daniel could smell Jack's alcohol laden breath and he was scared.

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The dry sobs that had wracked his body had now disappeared. He felt calmer in a way, as if thinking about it had let off steam. Unwilling to remember the next part of the abuse and hurt he had caused Daniel, he scooted to the edge of the ravine. It seemed to be his only alternative to the thoughts that would come next. Shivering, he swung his feet over the edge of the cliff and summoned the unbearable thoughts forward.

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Daniel backed up to the large picture window. His head in his hands. Blood streamed down one side of his face and bright red liquid wrecked havoc down his marred and pale features. Time seemed to slow, as if the universe seemed to jeer him on, allowing him time to escape but prevailing him the absolution of freedom. The door seemed to be within reach, and then it narrowed, and stretched if he tried to run. He had no sense of up, or down, side to side, horizontal or vertical. It all seemed to be the same. During the moments of inattention, Daniel had managed to hide Jack's car keys under a pile of paper, if he hadn't been inebriated he would have found them easily. Once again he was slammed against the wall; all of Jack that was visible to him was his fist as it plummeted him over and over again. Things seemed to blur, and objects like his fish seemed to turn into twisted objects that attacked him from all sides, a plate whizzed and shattered against the wall over his head. Pieces of glass rained and embedded themselves into his long hair. He looked up as Jack approached, wielding another dish. Somehow he had cut his arm, it was bloody and Daniel realized Jack must have done it when he was searching for dishes to throw. Another ceramic plate whizzed in his direction, hitting the wall to his right. For such a drunk and inebriated man he had very good aim. Daniel scooted away from the approaching figure again, trying to escape the winding hands that twisted into something more awful. He was losing the battle, he was losing his friend, and by the looks of it he was also going to lose his life.
"Jack!" he called out, trying to cut through the muddled, drink induced rage that had completely deformed his friend. The precious seconds that he had wasted in calling to his friend, trying to get through to him had gave Jack ground. In an alcohol induced rage he approached, his hand rearing for a sudden strike. Another blow was bestowed upon him. Jack picked his friend up with inhuman strength, leaving him dangling by the lapels of his shirt.
"Where are my keys?" He repeated, his eyes dilated with unthinkable fury. Daniel tried to breathe, Jack was unknowingly choking him. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth starting to turn blue. Jack shook him, wanting an answer. Daniel opened his eyes, or eye, one of them was swollen shut, subject to Jack's unmerciful beating. A strangled sound escaped from his throat and Jack shook him again.
"What? What did you say." With his remaining breath he choked out two words.
"No, never." He slumped. His remaining strength lost. Jack shook him again. Registering that he was no longer conscious. Throwing his friend's inert body away, causing him to slump down, Jack started a mad search for his keys. Throwing papers and pieces of glass onto the floor he became more and more frustrated. Going to the large, built-in bookcase he banged a fist against it and a large, unstable book at the top fell, crashing onto the crown of his head. Semi-conscious, he barely heard the knock at the door, and the slotting of a key into the lock. As his world dimmed he heard the exclamation
"Oh my god," and the face of a startled man step into the main area. That was the last thing Jack saw as the world dimmed, then darkened, and finally faded away.

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Jack stared up. The day was turning into night and colors seemed to twist and swirl. What a perfect end to a horrible day. Purples and red's twisted, yellow's embraced the sun's last rays. Jack stared at the awesome spectacle with a dumbstruck expression, his eyes watering when he wouldn't look away from the sun's light. He sat there and stared. He realized that this might be the last day of his life, seeing that no one on his team -especially Daniel - would ever trust him again. He stood, watching the last of the indifferent colors fade away into darkness and the crickets come out and start their earthly noises. He stood on the edge, preparing to jump.
"Is that really how you want to die, without even trying, just drowning yourself in self-pity?" A voice rose from the misty darkness, like an apparition, or a vision of unwanted tenacity. Jack once remembered something Daniel had said on the first mission, Listen Colonel, I don't want to die, your men don't want to die, it's a shame your in such a hurry to, Jack thought back and he stepped away from the roaring and churning waters below. Turning, he sat back down on the grass, unbinding remarks by the whole team seeping through his head.
"Jack, are you going to ignore me?" The voice became persistent. Jack shook his head.
"But your not real, your what I lost, your what my stupidity and mistakes destroyed.
"Why don't you look, instead of assume?" Jack looked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness around him.
"Daniel?" The ghostly apparition seemed to swirl with the mist and Jack asked himself if it was real or another cruel trick brought on by reality.
"What are you doing here?" Jack asked, keeping his voice under control.
"I guess I wanted to know if you were okay, you can't die, you've got so much to live for, live it to the fullest." Jack looked up. It was his friend; words of wisdom seemed to slip out of his mouth and fall to the ground, silky breaths freezing in mid-air. He was unwilling to face his friend the way he had left him after what he had done.
"Why are you here," he saw Daniel was going to open his mouth, and he intervened. "Really."
"No matter what you do, you're still my friend. I remember you telling me once that when somebody gets hurt everybody feels their pain. You are my friend and regardless of what you ever do to me. Remember when I was addicted to the sarcophagus? You stuck with me, and I was willing to kill to get back to Shyla and that infernal machine. But the point is you stuck with me, I guess that you deserve the same." Jack nodded, still hesitant to deny absolution. Suddenly the mist swirled and reality hit. It wasn't Daniel. His expression fell, but somehow he felt oddly relived. He knew it wouldn't be that easy to reclaim their friendship, he knew what he had to do. Getting up, he slipped through the trees, hoping he would not lose his courage.

The hospital loomed above him; the starry sky above dotted the horizon with a definite glow. He was here. He walked to the emergency room, silently hoping it would still be visiting time. The waiting room was almost silent; a small child was with its mother, bawling while she tried to calm it. A teenager in a cast was waiting to go in. Jack approached the large desk, and noticed it was empty. Realizing visiting hours were over, he leaned over and grabbed the clipboard. Daniel was in room 120. Jack, noticing there was no staff milling about went into that direction. The hallway stretched. His confidence leeched as he counted the doors. 112, 114, 116, 118, 120. That was it. Sounds floated out of the room, a lame talkshow blared from a small TV set attached to the wall. A sigh and the turning off of a television was followed by the rustle of bedclothes. Jack waited a second before entering the room. Opening the door he distinctly heard Daniel mutter,
"Where are you Jack?" Deciding this was his cue he pushed the door open. He saw Daniel staring dejectedly at the wall, his head turned away from him. Walking silently into the room, he stood over the bed, silently waiting for Daniel to notice him. Daniel turned.
"Jack!" He uttered, looking past him. "Where the hell have you been?" Jack decided not to warrant the question with an answer. "Sam said you left. They won't let me go. I was afraid you were going to do something to yourself." He looked at Jack, "So what made you come here?"
"The spirit of Christmas came to me in a dream and told me I should come and talk to you." Daniel looked at him, Jack sighed. "I was thinking." Daniel nodded.
"I guess I owe you an apology," Daniel started.
"What? What the heck do you mean." Jack asked. If he was blaming himself it was all in vain.
"I should have realized something was wrong."
"Actually, I believe you're wrong now. I knew I had a problem, I should have known that I should get help, and," He said "I know that I should, for you, and for me." He lowered his head. Daniel nodded.
"I don't blame you," he started. "I blame whatever possessed you to do something like this.' He scrunched his brow slightly. "That didn't come out right." Jack rolled his eyes.
"Look, all I wanted to say was sorry, and that I hope you'll forgive me," he started for the door. "I was about to do something really stupid, and in a way you were there for me." He opened the door. "I wasn't kidding about the ghost thing, and maybe I'll understand it in someway some day. He walked out. "Good night."
"Good night Jack." Daniel stared at the closed door. Whatever his friend had gone through had sobered him up. Daniel lay back on his pillows and his hand hit something. Puzzled he picked it up. It was a framed photograph. This was one he had never seen before. It was a picture of him and Jack. They had their arms on each other's shoulders and Jack had two fingers on top of Daniel's head. Bunny ears, Daniel mused. He turned the picture over, on the back inscribed in Jack's neat handwriting, Daniel read, To my friend, forever may you remember the good times and bad, Jack. Daniel smiled. He set the frame on the beside table and switched off the light above his head. Outside, Jack watched as the lone window of room 120 turned off, and he turned as well. He smiled and hoped that both his and Daniel's spirits had been repaired, for better or for worse.

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