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Battleground
Part 1 of 1
Synopsis:  DFR "Lynne's Drabble" challenge - Daniel comes home from a mission gone wrong - and he won't talk about what happened there.

Shock

"They had these zappy, electric thingies," Colonel O'Neill finished, staring past her shoulder.

Janet knew what he meant without following his gaze.  "Care to add anything to that, Doctor Jackson?"

"They had zappy, electric cages, too," came the response.  Such a reply wouldn't be unexpected from O'Neill, but came as a surprise in Daniel's voice.  "Why don't you ask Jack about those?"

"Because we're asking you what happened during that hour Regurg had you outside," the colonel retorted.

"Nothing," Daniel answered, and Janet inwardly cringed.  The next words out of his mouth tore her heart into tiny pieces.

"I'm fine."

Awe

Jack sighed.  "Seriously, Daniel, you have got to talk about this."

"What's to talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know... maybe the fact that you were tortured?"

"So were you," the younger man answered, turning over on his side so that he was facing the infirmary wall, instead.  "Hypocrite."

"Daniel..."  Jack scrubbed his hand through his hair, unsure how to help his friend.

The quiet, monotone voice caught him by surprise.  "It's one thing when it's Apophis," he began.  "It hurts worse when it's a fellow human being.  I guess I just expected better."

"Welcome to my world," Jack replied bitterly.

Trench Warfare

Now that he'd started, Daniel struggled to keep himself under control.  "All he did was ask me the same question over and over again."

"And you didn't answer?"

Flipping over on the narrow infirmary bed, he frowned.  "Of course not.  He kept asking me where our fourth was.  I kept telling him we didn't have one."

"Ah."  Like a good little soldier, Jack had submitted to Janet's post-mission exam with no real complaint—just a lot of petulant whining.  He was dressed and ready to leave for the night, but Daniel was confined to the ward.  "So... what happened next?"

Siege

"What always happens next," Daniel answered, giving him a "stop playing dumb, Jack" glare.  "Or at least I'm assuming it always happens next... I'm not exactly up to speed on classic interrogation techniques."

Oh, so Daniel was now trying to keep Jack an active participant in the conversation in an obvious attempt to limit the amount of talking he'd have to do himself.  While his technique might have worked on someone less versed in military tactics, Jack recognized the evasion for exactly what it was.  Rather than dignifying him with a response, the colonel pulled up a chair and waited.

Air Supremacy

The silent treatment was wearing on him in ways none of Rygar's toys could ever manage.  Feeling himself on the edge between shutting down and hysteria, Daniel wobbled precariously along the fine line.  "What did you call them?  Oh, yeah... zappy, electric things."

Daniel paused, waiting for a response which never came.  "I bet you'd never guess those things had another setting."  Sitting up, he drew his knees to himself and wrapped his arms around them.  He'd never in his life been so grateful for the curtain which kept him isolated from Teal'c, Nyan, and the rest of the infirmary.

Economy of Force

Daniel needed a hug in the worst way possible, but he needed to talk even more.  As much as it pained Jack to do so, he simply propped his elbows up on his knees and leaned toward his friend.  He'd never been a man known for being able to keep still, but times like this called for a sounding board, not comic relief.  There was a time to laugh and a time to listen, and there'd be plenty of opportunity for the former later.

As any good commander or hockey enthusiast knew, sometimes the best offense was a solid defense.

Attrition

He let out the breath he'd been holding.  "Instead of a short, sharp shock, it's a dull ache—like touching a low-power electric fence—but it doesn't stay that way.  Soon, all your muscles are twitching and your skin's on fire.  Think 'zat', only prolonged."

He could feel Jack's steady regard, not judging him.  Looking up, Daniel accidentally met his friend's eyes, held in place by the surprisingly compassionate gaze of the man who'd only recently shattered their tenuous friendship with calculated deliberation.  How would he react if Daniel toppled off the razor's edge?

It was Jack.  It didn't matter.

Breakout

The moment Daniel's haunted blue eyes met his own, Jack knew this was it: the beautiful, perfect clarity of a soprano's note before crystal glasses shattered.  It always amazed him how incredibly strong Daniel was, having survived a painful childhood, the loss of his wife and her family, and now the uncertainty of the friendship Jack had trod upon in his single-minded undercover pursuit of the rogue NID agents.  Daniel was that crystal: brilliant, elegant, sturdy, and—well, beautiful.  The younger man's soul was simply beautiful, breath-taking in its warmth and honesty.

But Daniel, like crystal, could and would shatter.

Frontal Assault

"Why me, Jack?  Why did Rygar use me to try to find Teal'c?  Do I just have a big, universal sign taped to my back that says 'kick me'?"  Control was gone, washed away like debris before the onslaught of a flash-flood.  "Why does every Ra, Rygar, or Apophis out there think I'm some sort of... galactic whipping boy?"

Traitorous tears were creeping down his cheeks.  He wanted to wipe them away, but that would require relinquishing the grip he had around his knees, the only bit of control he had left.

"Because," Jack began, breaking his silence, "you're Daniel."

Coup de Grâce

"You're strong-willed," he continued slowly, "they want to break that.  You're very determined, and they want to destroy that, too.  You don't back down, you don't let anything compromise your morals, and you're not about to let anyone else breach your sense of ethics, either."  He stroked a thumb over Daniel's cheek, wiping away the moisture there.

The younger man's hands fluttered helplessly, so Jack took that moment to wrap his arms around the shaking shoulders and draw him close.  He rocked him gently, just like he had done over a year ago in a darkened storeroom.

"Don't ever change."

Withdrawal

"How's Daniel?"

Janet looked up from the medical chart for SG-1's latest alien refugee and smiled at her friend.  "He'll be fine, Sam."

The other woman stilled.  "'Fine'?"

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best word to use when referring to the condition of the SGC's favorite civilian scientist.  The last time Janet had looked, though, Daniel had been thoroughly wrapped up in a hug from his best friend and commanding officer, his face buried against the older man's shoulder and sobbing out the emotional catharsis he so desperately needed.

"Better than fine," she smiled.  "He's going to be okay."

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