" Dammit Daniel," I whispered, staring at him through the solid glass recessed in the door.

"You’re gonna be okay," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

My friend was once more tied to the bed, looking alone and vulnerable in the small isolation room.

I stared at him over the broad shoulder an anonymous SF guard, noticing on how he struggled to free himself, despite the mind numbing sedative coursing through his system, his face a mask of agony mixed with deep longing.

" Hang in there, Danny boy. It’s not nice, staring at the pit, but things will get better, I promise."

As I expected, he never heard me, which in a way I was very grateful for. Seeing him like that bought back memories of my own, dark bitter memories of another time and place.

" Dammit Daniel," I whispered, resting my forehead against the cool glass.

Six hours of sleep hadn’t been enough to dispel the sense deep bone-weary tiredness that I felt.

Six hours of sleep after a solid week of working in that madman’s Naquadah mine was never going to be enough, but it had to do.

I had no choice. Daniel needed me.

Feeling a little sorry for myself, I closed my eyes, just for a moment, swallowing against a brief flare of nausea I felt, and coughed.

I swear I never want to see another Naquadah rock.

If Daniel…God, he almost shot me, back there in the storeroom.

What an unsecured hand weapon was doing lying in a storeroom was another matter, one I would take up as soon as I had myself some more sleep, which wouldn’t be today.

…

" Colonel, he’s heavily sedated, and is going to stay that way for hours still."

My heart did a funny flip-flop at his lack of reaction. Okay, truth be told, the man deserved to be in bed, like Sam was, not traipsing around the base looking like a groupie from a Living Dead concert, but if he hadn’t…if he hadn’t, Daniel would have… hell I didn’t even know what Daniel would have been.

Dead I guess.

If the Colonel hadn’t twigged onto what had happened when Daniel threw me across the room and brutally clubbed that poor Airman, things could have been a lot worse.

" Colonel?"

I stood right next to him, felt the heat radiating from his body, and knew I had a problem.

When he shut his eyes briefly, swayed and coughed, I nodded to Steve Milner, my chief nurse, who had just arrived.

He looked as concerned as I felt. Usually Colonel O’Neill had the ears of a bat and the reflexes of a cat, making it almost impossible to sneak up on him.

Not this time.

Here he was, leaning against the solid iso-ward door to one side of the infirmary looking for all the world like if it wasn’t propping him up he would just collapse into an untidy heap.

Hell, I might be spot on.

Steve silently waved his hand, indicating a vial of strong sedative with a raised eyebrow. For a moment I was strongly tempted - If O’Neill felt the way he looked, he would be unconscious before he knew what had happened to him - but I reluctantly shook my head.

Steve hadn’t felt what I had, the heat of a man running a temperature.

He needed more than a sedative.

"Colonel?" This time I tugged on his arm, making the poor man jump.

…

Dammit, I hate it when she does that.

Almost every time she succeeds in sneaking up on me, she has me in one of those beds with a thermometer in my mouth within minutes, her theory being that if I don’t hear her, then I must be sick.

It was definitely time for a quick excuse.

" Sorry doc." I tapped the glass between Daniel and us. " Just thinking about what he’s going through."

She nodded sympathetically, somehow steering me towards the nearest bed.

How in the hell does she do that?

" It brings back bad memories, hmm?"

" Umm." I would have answered a bit more articulately than that, but at that moment she decided to pop that damn thermometer in my mouth, Captain whatjamacallit lifting my feet off of the floor at the same time, forcing me to lie back on one of the infirmary beds.

I had to content myself with giving her a withering glare, wondering how she knew.

" Are you wondering how I know?" she asked, giving me goose bumps.

Damn, the woman is perceptive.

…

I knew our Colonel a bit too well. I knew that he was going to start yelling at us, so popped in a thermometer, just as he opened his mouth, Steve taking advantage of his momentary helplessness to lift his feet onto the bed, forcing him to lie back silently and glare at us.

Steve immediately peeled off, my perceptive nurse now seeing what I already knew, a patient in dire need of medical help.

" He’s hurting, just like you did a long time ago," I said.

His eyes snapped up to mine.

"Are you wondering how I know?" I asked softly.

It was fascinating to see the range of emotions our Colonel Jack O’Neill managed to display before he finally managed to force his face into an impassive mask.

Of course, I knew him too well to be fooled.

What he did, he did to himself many years ago, but I could see that the memory of it still hurt. That was so sad, but unsurprising.

Smiling reassuringly, I reached out and took the thermometer from between his lips, confirming what my eyes had already told me, that he was going to be our patient for a least the weekend.

" Colonel," I said, indicating the thermometer, " You know what this means, don’t you?"

He was sick, and plainly exhausted, but wasn’t stupid.

Leaning forwards with a sigh, he started to undo the laces on his boots, only to blanche and sway alarmingly.

…

I didn’t need this dammit.

Suddenly my boots seemed like they were a hell of a long way away, making me feel nauseous with the effort of reaching them. Then the room seemed to lurch sickeningly, making me shut my eyes in reaction.

That was the last thing I remembered for at least ten hours

…

" Steve!"

I heard something hit the floor with a crash as I struggled to stop the Colonel from falling off of the bed, then my chief nurse was by my side, our combined strength pushing O’Neill back where he lay limply, obviously totally out of it.

" What in the hell happened?" I asked.

" Dunno," Steve, replied," but I think I had better check on his blood work."

…

I actually felt good, something I definitely couldn’t have said about myself for the past two days.

Okay, I felt hungry, and thirsty, but besides that, I actually felt myself again.

To my relief Janet seemed to agree.

" Okay Daniel, it’s time you got out of those restraints."

I think I love her.

" You can keep Colonel O’Neill company."

" What?"

…

" He has pleurisy, bought about by breathing in that Naquadah dust. That, accompanied with a very low blood sugar level, made him collapse a couple of hours ago."

I hated to do this to Daniel, but I knew that anything less than the truth wouldn’t be acceptable. The problem was, anybody who knew Daniel well knew that he would take Jack’s condition personally, putting him on a massive guilt trip, something he definitely didn’t need.

His expression immediately turned bitter.

" So, not only did I starve him by forcing him into a weeks worth of manual labor without food, I also made him ill."

"What?"

‘What’ in more ways than one.

Nobody told me about the weeks worth of starvation.

No wonder he was hypoglycemic!

I also made a mental note to check up on Sam and Teal’c.

" And how do you justify giving him pleurisy, Daniel?"

Daniel looked down at his boots.

" If I hadn’t become addicted to the sarcophagus, then none of this would have happened."

" Maybe," I said slowly. " But you did not willingly choose to become addicted, did you?"

" No, but still..."

He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, making me think that he would rather stand in the middle of my infirmary looking guilty, then confront O’Neill.

" Daniel," I said, giving him an out, " I seriously doubt that the Colonel will wake up any time soon, so why don’t you go back to your office and relax for a while?"

I made it as much as an order as I could with him, knowing his fragile mood.

Luckily, he seemed to take the hint.

" Okay," he sighed, looking furtively at the Colonel’s sleeping form as he walked to the door.

" But, please let me know as soon as he awakes."

I tried a last parting shot.

" He won’t hold it against you, you know."

His smile was faint. " I know, but I will."

…

Mystery of mankind thing number 9851.

Why, as soon as you’re flat on your back in the infirmary, do they take it as tacit permission to attach you to a drip?

Not that I really minded. Not as long as whatever was in that clear bottle thingy was making me warm and fuzzy.

Warm and fuzzy was okay.

Cold and exhausted were not.

God bless Dr Fraiser and her team for being perceptive. Sometimes they saw things that even I didn’t see, or more than likely refused to acknowledge, way before I did.

" Colonel O’Neill?" I stared up groggily to see that male nurse, Captain somebody or other, looming over me.

" How are you feeling sir?"

" Great," I whispered. " Now let me out of here."

I could sleep just as easily on the cot in my office.

The man gave me a toothy grin and injected something into the drip.

" No one goes anywhere at oh three hundred sir, including you."

I glared at him as the drug hit.

" Are you qualified to do that?"

" Nighty-night sir."

…

I came into work the next morning armed with the donut that Cassie insisted I buy for Colonel O’Neill.

Cassie always looked on him as the father figure she had lost; something the hurt ex-father took to heart, much to my delight. They had both blossomed over the years, finding stability in each others company, what little time there was. The latest father daughter night hike was a case in point. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, including her scout troop, Jack O’Neill was her guardian, which in a way he truly was.

Needless to say, they had won the hike in a record time, increasing her social status among her friends, something I think every teenager in the whole damn galaxy craves.

When I had told her that Jack had very bad flu-like symptoms, with complications, she immediately insisted we stop at the first bakery we came to, where she bought him the stickiest gooey donut she could find.

She then insisted that she take a day off from school and keep him company, something I wasn’t too happy about. Eventually I relented, mindful of the fact that Cassie had few friends she could really be herself with, who know her origins.

Or did Cassie tell me that?

Shooing her towards Sam’s office with instructions to stay there until I cleared her visit with General Hammond, I made my way towards the infirmary.

" Morning Steve," I said, hanging my coat up and smiling at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Steve smiled his greeting and reached for his own coat. He looked wrecked, something I couldn’t help commenting on.

" The Colonel been giving you hassles?"

His smile was feral, making me frown uneasily.

" Nah." He indicated the far bed, " he’s still sleeping like a baby."

I felt worried. " He hasn’t woken?"

Steve’s smile was thin, a victim of many O’Neill complaints.

" Once. He was still restless and feverish so I gave him another sedative along with the glucose, to allow him as much sleep as possible."

He indicated the chart at the foot of the bed.

" It’s all written down there, maam."

I nodded my thanks and walked over to the Colonel. As Steve had said, O’Neill was still looking hot and feverish, muttering quietly to himself as he slept. It wasn’t an encouraging sight. No wonder Steve had sedated him. I felt bad for thinking that he had something else on his mind besides the welfare of his patient. The best thing for Jack O’Neill right now was sleep, and lots of it.

Smiling at Steve, who was anxious to be dismissed, I picked up the chart of the Colonel’s results that had come in through the night. What I saw made me reach for the phone, all thoughts of Steve’s dismissal forgotten.

…

" How is he doctor?"

Dr Fraiser looked up from the chart she was holding, obviously glad to see me.

" Not good sir."

I hated ambiguous answers, something the medical profession seemed to excel in.

" Meaning?"

She replaced Colonel O’Neill’s chart and led me to her office, where a jug of coffee was steaming quietly.

" Cream, sugar?"

I waited for her to finish that little ritual then asked her again.

She chose her words with care.

" At first it looked as if Colonel O’Neill simply had pleurisy, something not all that surprising considering what they went through. Now I’m not too sure, sir. The Colonel isn’t stabilizing like he should, and he continues to have a very low blood sugar level, despite our best efforts."

I gave her a hard look.

" Meaning what, doctor?"

She looked thoughtful. " I think the reasons for Colonel O’Neill‘s pleurisy arn’t… entirely earth based."

She shook her head helplessly. "We’re trying to fight it with our medicines, but…" her voice trailed off.

My heart dropped. " Is it contained?"

As in, is it safely kept within the confines of the SGC?

Fraiser looked worried. " I don’t think he is infectious sir. Even so, I am the only one who was in contact with Colonel O’Neill who actually left the base. I had the elevator to myself last night, and of course, the guards are behind that thick glass." She smiled slightly, " The only one I have been in continual contact with is Cassie, who just happens to be here visiting Major Carter whilst I clear her visit with you."

I tried hard not to let my relief show.

" How will you know if they too have this… whatever it is?"

" Blood work sir. Captain Milner is working on that right now, testing our blood. This disease is leaving behind a very distinct signature."

Just then, the door opened with a knock, and a very exhausted looking Captain stuck his head in.

" Sir, Doc, we’re clean."

Fraiser looked immensely relieved. " Then you can go home Steve, with my thanks."

He looked at her, his eyes wide. " You sure?"

" Nurse Merewether will be here shortly. Now Scat."

He scatted, leaving us alone once more.

" You realize that we will have to tighten up our act," I said, watching her closely.

She nodded, fiddling at the cup of coffee in front of her.

" I know sir," she said with a sigh. " It could have been far, far worse." Her eyes found mine, flat and serious. " I suggest we implement a rule that no one leaves the base for 24 hours after coming in contact with a returning SG team."

I nodded my agreement. "That sounds reasonable."

For a moment we sat in silence, watching as another nurse arrived, carrying more vials of blood.

" Cassie, Daniel and Major Carter," she said without prompting, "although from the look of it, Colonel O’Neill seems to be the only one affected, but we’ll really know for sure when the official results return."

I rose to my feet with a groan, feeling all my years for a moment before espying a still gray figure in a far bed. As bad as I felt, I was certain Colonel O’Neill felt worse.

" How is he? " I asked. I really wanted to find out for myself, but until I knew how O’Neill was infected, I wasn’t willing to take a chance.

" We’ll know in a while, when he wakes up. In the meantime, we’ll keep a very close eye on him, just in case."

I nodded, wanting to get the hell out of there. Hospital’s made me nervous, making me empathize with O’Neill. No wonder he complained mightily every time he found himself in here.

" Keep me posted Doctor."

…

This was all my fault, no matter what everyone said. If I hadn’t actually agreed to use the sarcophagus knowing that I was fit and healthy, none of this would have happened.

Damn it. The minute I did that I was hooked. Damn her.

Oh God. I remember Jack kneeling on the floor in front of me, shaking with the effort it took to keep his head up.

He was coughing even then, back when I was acting like a Gould.

Like a puny tin pot wannabe Gould.

An addict.

God.

Hating myself, I leaned forwards, resting my head on one elbow, Jack’s slack hand a few inches from my face. From this angle, I could see his broken fingernails; at least two of them broken to the quick, making me hate myself even more. Jack prided himself on having clean and neat fingernails, no matter where in the universe we landed up; saying that it was his only concession to vanity, and now they were all chipped and broken.

Due to me.

I shut my eyes and listened to his breathing, hearing the harsh wheezing sound that told me my friend was far from well, and hated myself even more.

We should have been home days ago.

Suddenly the timbre of his breathing changed, making me blink at him myopically.

======

" Hey Danny." I tried to reach out to him, only to find out that my hands felt like lead.

" You okay?"

He sat back looking ashamed, causing me to blink in confusion.

" Hell, me? Oh, I’m just peachy."

His bitter expression coupled with my favorite pet phrase set my teeth on edge.

" Oh, feeling guilty are we?"

He nodded miserably. " Uh-huh. Sack cloth and ashes guilty."

There is nothing I hate more on earth than a guilty Daniel Jackson.

Okay, maybe there is, Senator Kinsey.

And the Goa’uld.

Them I really hate.

Besides them, there was nothing I hated more than a guilty Daniel Jackson.

" You didn’t make me sick. At least I think you didn’t make me sick?" I raised my eyebrow enquiringly, daring him to contradict me.

When he shook his head, I sighed in relief.

" But if I hadn’t acted like I did you would have been out of that mine days ago. You would have never gotten pleurisy."

This was pleurisy? I swear it felt like pneumonia. If this was pleurisy, then I take back all the other times when I felt sorry for myself.

" Yeah, this you can keep." I tried to make light of the situation, but Danny boy wasn’t biting.

" Damn, I’m sorry Jack. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t become addicted…"

I smiled, unable to keep my eyes open. I could still talk, however.

" Don’t be," Danny boy," I whispered, aware that he was listening closely. " It takes a good man to acknowledge that he is an addict." I dragged open my eyes briefly, looking into his puzzled eyes before I allowed them to slide shut again.

" You weren’t even at fault. You were accidentally addicted…addicted out of your own ignorance. Sure, Teal’c, Carter and I suffered for that ignorance, but it was not your fault."

My voice became harsh as I wallowed in my own bitter memories.

" So you say," he muttered bitterly.

"So I know," I said cryptically.

"Huh?" he asked, not understanding.

"I was an addict myself, once," I said softly, watching as his face dropped in shock.

" What happened?" he asked after a while.

I tried to tell him, but the lure of sleep was too strong.

…

Sometimes we forget that he is human.

Even I sometimes forget that he is not some sort of super soldier, a cross between Batman and Superman, made especially to rid the galaxy of Goa’uld.

The revelation that he was once an addict comes as such a great shock that for a moment I am riveted in place, glad that Jack is no longer awake to see the expression on my face.

Dear heavens above. He had been an addict?

Holee crap. It must have been early in his life, maybe before he even joined the air force, or…

I saw Dr Fraiser give me a sympathetic look and realized with a sense of shock that she knew.

Seeing my look, she wandered over to stand next to me.

" Feeling better now?" she asked.

I nodded, feeling haunted. Somehow, she intuitively knew what he had said.

" He told you, didn’t he?" she asked softly, checking on his IV.

" Not all of it," I murmured, lest someone overhear. " Just that he was once an addict."

She nodded, her eyes sad. " I can’t tell you all of it. What I can tell you is this, he was seventeen, and his addiction almost cost the life of his brother."

"Oh God." I stared at her in shock. " No wonder he is so vehemently anti-drugs."

She nodded, giving me a hug.

" Let him sleep now," she said quietly.

So I did, content to sit back and watch my sleeping friend.

Ideally, I should have left, gone back to my own office and the inviting cot  I kept in one corner. But I couldn’t. Not after his shattering revelation.

My best friend had been an addict.

Curled up on the plastic chair, I watched him carefully, noticing the lines etched into his face, lines put there not by age, but by stress. My friend had had a hard life, but until now, I hadn’t realized just how hard.

" Oh Jack," I murmured quietly to myself, lest anyone else overheard, "When you wake up, you have a lot of explaining to do."

I looked up with a weary smile as the rest of SG1 entered the infirmary, quite content to wait.

* EINDE