Salvage Operation
by Carrie

“Why does this always happen? No, let me rephrase that. Why does this always happen when I end up stuck with you?”

“Stuck with me? I’m going to try really hard to disregard that.”

“Why? It’s true. Put me with Teal’c—sunshine and roses. With Carter—sunshine and…boredom. Both of which are about two hundred percent more acceptable than our current situation.”

“For the record, I could say the exact same thing about you. Archaeology was never hazardous to my health until I met you. And besides, oh great team leader, who decides the breakdown of the groups? Whose fault is it, really?”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“Shut up, Daniel, and find something to get me out of here!” Jack growled into the upside down, sullen face glaring at him.

“Do I really have to remind you I can move about three feet in any given direction and that there’s nothing within my reach to help you?” Daniel muttered back, and Jack swore he heard the archaeologist mumble something about how blood in the brain was supposed to increase its function.

He had known something like this was going to happen about a millisecond before it actually had, and was too slow to prevent Daniel from touching what he had no business touching. The space between them had been enough to keep them apart and subsequently suffer differing means of capture. He was quite sure he’d gotten the short end of the stick.

Groaning in frustration, Jack hit his radio again. “Carter, Teal’c, do you copy?”

“I really don’t think they can…” Daniel prudently trailed off at Jack’s intense, angry glower.

Yeah, he knew radio contact was down, out, blocked or something. Glancing at his watch, Jack wondered if his head would explode from the pressure before Carter and Teal’c realized there was something amiss. They weren’t due to officially check in for another forty-five minutes, and he’d already been swinging by one leg for about an hour. He was just thoroughly pissed and needed to do something to keep his mind from wandering onto homicidal paths. He stared at his P90 lying uselessly forlorn at the entrance of the temple, then flicked his gaze to the sidearm at his…head. At Daniel’s feet but just out of reach.

“Daniel?”

“Jack?”

“Do you happen to have your sidearm?”

“Of course I do.”

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you try and shoot at this rope thing to get me down? Then I can get you out of your box.” Had it really taken him an hour to think of that?

“Uh…I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“And why not?”

“I’m in a box, Jack. Invisible shield type of thing. If I can’t simply crawl out, why would a bullet pass through it?”

Crap. Daniel was right, of course. Blood shirruped aggravatingly in his ears and he pulled his arms against gravity that seemed far too strong to rub at them, surprised when they didn’t come away covered in red. Surely vital fluids would start leaking out of his cranial orifices soon. Damnit to hell, why couldn’t Carter just finish up early for once? Would it be too much to ask? Like that would ever happen. Jack sighed.

“Had any luck figuring out why this happened? Other than you touching things you shouldn’t have?” he asked, not feeling an ounce of regret as Daniel cast him a reproachful look.

“I didn’t actually touch anything, Jack,” the archaeologist wearily said. “Not to place blame here but I had stopped when you ran into me and pushed me onto it.”

“I did not! If I had done that, wouldn’t I be in there with you?” His words were petulant and sophomoric, a grown up ‘nuh-uh’.

“Judging from the force with which my face impacted the wall, I’d say chances are good you bounced back a bit,” Daniel snapped, rubbing an upside down hand on his upside down cheekbone.

This is what they had been reduced to over the years—snaggy, ill-tempered arguments. Jack suddenly wanted to turn back time, erase the irritation that inherently came whenever he was around Daniel and replace it with the camaraderie he was positive they had had at one point. The problem with that idea was he had no clue when it had gone wrong between them. Oh, he still liked Daniel, still considered him a friend. But there was always that underlying feeling of wrongness and withdrawal he didn’t know how to fix. Worse, he didn’t know if he wanted to. It was easier to accept the new status quo, acknowledge he and his teammate were on differing sides on every subject. Maintain a tolerance of sorts, nothing more, nothing less. It was the nothing less that bothered him every time.

“Back to the question,” Jack harped, refusing to concede Daniel was right once again. If the archaeologist hadn’t looked as though he were about to touch something dangerous, he never would have overreacted. “Ideas? Helpful hints?”

Daniel stared up at him for long moments, expression bordering both on extreme dislike and extreme frustration. And he knew; Jack knew they had to fix this. That look made his friend look like his enemy. Without knowing how their relationship had become so skewed, though, the repairs would probably be lengthy and painful. ‘Nothing less’ loomed over his head like an ogre, and he was ashamed it had taken him so long to realize Daniel’s friendship was important enough to fight for. More than important enough. Trying to make his expression contrite, Jack wondered how successful he could possibly be when his face was beet red and flipped over from the other man’s perspective. To his relief, a bit of the archaeologist’s tension seemed to diminish.

“I hate to say it, but no. This place is definitely alien, though I’d venture a guess this building isn’t a temple like I’d first thought,” Daniel softly said, shifting uncomfortably in his small enclosure.

“What gave it away—the box cage or the swinging upside down by one leg thing?”

Damn. That came out so much more harshly than he’d intended. Jack cautiously watched Daniel’s reaction, hoping he hadn’t hung himself even worse. No pun intended.

“Actually, it was the lack of any type of statuary or altar that usually go hand in hand with religion, but now that you mention it…” Daniel looked doleful as he banged a fist against his nearly invisible trap, wincing a little. “The only other assumption we can make is that whomever constructed these things is fairly advanced. Your knife didn’t do a thing to the cord and this thing reminds me of Aris Boch.”

As Daniel spoke, Jack had a terrible thought. He tried to dismiss it but it kept at him like a nagging wife refusing to be ignored. Nervously, he checked his watch and bit back the urge to try and hail Carter and Teal’c again. Closing his eyes, he saw them compromised just as he and Daniel were, or worse. No. Stupid to think like that. It served no purpose but to make his agitation mount, and he had a feeling being calm, cool and collected was going to be essential. Soon.

“Do you suppose these…people, for lack of a better term…are hunters of some sort, and if so, when do you think they’re going to check their traps again?” Jack asked, hating to vocalize the thought.

“Your guess is as good as mine, though I hope it’s after Sam and Teal’c come for us.”

“Yeah.”

Mentally reviewing their track record, Jack figured they were pretty well screwed. Some nice, peaceful alien race wouldn’t exactly be inclined to set booby traps. All he could do was hope it was a planet-bound type of group, not a spread-mayhem-throughout-the-galaxy type of group. Cringing at the jinx, he slapped his forehead. Hand slightly deadened from its awkward position, it hit him with more force than he’d planned and he grunted.

“Careful there,” Daniel said laughingly.

“Shut up,” Jack good-naturedly retorted. “Did I ask for your input?”

This. This was more like how it was supposed to be between him and Daniel. Why couldn’t they seem to maintain this for longer than a few lousy minutes? Little interludes of how it used to be sprang up intermittently, coming less and less frequently and with less and less power to remind. He knew the guilt was not his alone to shoulder but would be damn sure not to let that fact impede the reconstruction. Fixing. Repairs. Reconstruction. Jack huffed out an impatient breath, irritated he’d been thinking of the friendship as though it were a hole in the wall needing a quick patch job. Hell, that was probably part of the problem right there.

“Do you ever?” Daniel asked.

Did he ever? Though the younger man didn’t sound as though it were a serious question, Jack couldn’t deny the validity. There had been a time when each member of SG1 held equal positions in regards to influencing a final decision. He honestly couldn’t say that was the truth any longer. He was the team leader, it fell on him to make the ultimate call in every situation. But somewhere, somewhen, he had stopped listening to his team. The Eurondan and Enkaren situations instantly came to mind as the most obvious examples, but there had been more. Too many to name or think about. Okay, so his responsibility in the state of his team was now in question, not just his relationship with Daniel. First things first. Work on the interpersonal before moving to the bigger picture.

“Not as often as I should,” Jack muttered.

“What?”

“Carter and Teal’c getting here soon would be good, I said.”

“Oh…right.” Daniel looked baffled. And cramped. “Any minute now, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Head throbbing again, Jack closed his eyes and tried not to move. The swaying was making him nauseous. As the pendulum effect slowed, he couldn’t help but think his own comfort wasn’t the only thing hanging in the balance.

Daniel relied heavily on intuition in both his job and his daily life; for the most part, it served him well. Unfortunately, intuition was failing when it came to understanding one Jack O’Neill. He remembered very clearly becoming friends with Jack, but he couldn’t recall when that friendship had started to erode. And it had eroded over the years, crumbled away after too many strong winds, floods, rainstorms…whatever. The man had gone from a pretty even temperament to swinging irrationally from resigned apathy to cranky, ill nature. Frankly, Daniel didn’t quite know what to expect every time he attempted conversation. So he stopped attempting.

Today was the perfect example. He should have known something like this was going to happen. Jack was right on that count—trouble was a raging bull and either he or his upside down companion must have a red flag sewn on his ass. Daniel flipped up his watch guard, willing time to have sped up; his legs were getting twitchy. Sighing, he realized there was still a good half an hour before Sam and Teal’c were to check in, and chances are at least an hour for them to make it to his and Jack’s unexpected prison. He was selfishly grateful he wasn’t the one who’d ended up swinging from the rope.

“Screw this. There has got to be a way down from here!” Jack growled, face a deep maroon. “My head can’t take it anymore.”

“Jack…”

“Daniel, shut up and help me think of something.”

“We’ve tried everything we can, given our limited freedom,” Daniel snapped back, stung at the harsh command.

He rocked back slightly as Jack opened his eyes and glowered down at him. Well, apparently Mr. Hyde was putting in another appearance. Sighing, Daniel tried to dismiss the other man’s caustic words as resultant from the undoubtedly uncomfortable position Jack was in. Too often lately, he knew he was guilty of fighting fire with fire when it came to dealing with the ever-changing moods of his friend, and that obviously wasn’t a great method. He couldn’t blame the other man for the whole of their faltering friendship. Instead of reacting negatively or not reacting at all, Daniel knew he had to try to change himself before he could have any hope at all of salvaging even a working relationship with Jack.

“There’s always something else to try.”

“Sure, Jack. Let me just start digging a hole in the ground and tunnel beneath this energy barrier. That’ll work.”

Sadly, changing himself was easier said than done. And clearly Jack wasn’t the only one with a flighty personality. If Daniel had to describe to anyone exactly what was going through his mind and body, he’d have to equate it to his unpleasant experiences with Sha’re when she was suffering PMS. Gone was his loving, beautiful wife. In her stead, a furiously bitter hag, of whom he was not embarrassed to admit being afraid. Extremely afraid. It had taken him four months to figure out a remedy—saying yes to everything, no matter how ridiculous. He just had to find a similar remedy for Jack, and for himself. Right. It was safe to say neither of them could possibly become yes men with each other.

“Damnit, Daniel. Stop being so sarcastic. It doesn’t suit you and it’s extremely unattractive and my fucking head is going to fucking explode!”

O-okay. That was a little bit of the pot calling the kettle, but Daniel wisely let it pass because of the extenuating circumstances. However, it was very apparent to him the only way out of the situation was to wait. And wait and wait. He nervously fingered his watch again. Damnit.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I just don’t know what you want me to say. There is no way out of this, bar you chewing your leg off. Correct me if I’m wrong in thinking that’s not something you want to do,” Daniel tiredly said, bracing for the rebuttal by scooting back an inch. Colliding with the invisible force penning him in, he shuddered at the now familiar but still painful tingling shooting needles into his shoulders. “Augh, damnit.”

“What?” Jack asked.

Daniel looked up at Jack’s soft question as he jerked away from the wall, unsurprised to see the other man’s expression was as soft as his voice. If only that happened more often. He wiped the grimace off his face and tried to school his features to reassuring.

“Every time I touch the shield, I get a small shock.”

“How small? Or should I say how big?”

“Ever touched an electrified fence? Like that.”

“Ooh, ouch,” Jack sympathized with an answering grimace, which hardened into suspicion. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me every time I ordered you to try and get out of there you went ahead and touched it anyway?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly open to my opinion at the time, Jack. Besides, you had more important things on your mind,” Daniel ruefully admitted, giving a tiny smile to try and brush it off as not a big deal.

“Jeez, Daniel. You should have said something! My own situation is no more important than yours.”

Genuine surprise flooded him at the statement, followed closely by extreme shame. Yes, Jack had been…crankier than usual lately, but one thing he never did was truly put his own concerns before others’. Unbidden thoughts of some of Jack’s command decisions popped into his head. Euronda. The Enkarens. Merrin. No, Daniel corrected before the ill thoughts could take seed. Those instances weren’t Jack looking out for number one at all, even if it sometimes appeared that way in his memory. Angry with himself for even thinking it, he scowled and had to look away from his friend.

“You don’t believe that?” Jack whispered, clearly wounded and taken aback.

Damn. Jack had seen his face and misinterpreted the expression. Way to go, Daniel. Instantly turning his face back up, he twitched at the stark hurt on Jack’s features, readable despite the awkward positioning and the discomfort that went with it. If he could kick himself, he would.

“Yes, I believe that, Jack. I have to be honest, though, it sometimes doesn’t seem that way. At least not at first.”

Honesty was the best policy? Not always, but Daniel knew if they didn’t start actually voicing insecurities and thoughts, he and Jack would always be on a slippery slope. And he knew a person could only struggle on that slope for so long before giving up and sliding right down it into the muck. With a start, he realized how desperately he didn’t want to land in the muck when it came to his friendship with Jack.

“That’s really nice, Daniel.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” Daniel trailed off, suddenly at a loss as to how to explain what he did mean without causing further misunderstanding and hurt. He could almost feel the rift between them getting bigger, even though they were only four or so feet apart. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat. “It’s not you. People tend to leap to their own conclusions in any given circumstance, Jack, and I’ve been guilty plenty of times.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means that…I don’t know what it means.”

Cowardice, plain and simple. Daniel didn’t want to go through all of their dirty laundry at the moment, a little afraid at the reaction he might garner if he gave Jack the examples he was looking for. They needed some distance from this latest grand adventure, some time to settle frazzled nerves. That, and there was no place to escape to if things got too ugly here. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he huffed a short laugh. He really was an idiot; planning escape routes wasn’t exactly the best way to foster the ‘regaining the friendship’ campaign.

“Look, Jack…”

“No, forget it.”

“Jack, I don’t think we should forget it,” Daniel argued, waving his hand around at the invisible box and the rope the other man was swaying from. “What else are we going to do?”

“You could try that digging thing you mentioned.”

The conversation was apparently over, the room silent except for an odd hissing noise. Jack closed his eyes, folded his arms painfully across his chest and did an amazing impression of a sleeping bat. To add to Daniel’s own misery, his left calf tightened in an excruciating charley horse. Rubbing at it vigorously, he tried to contain any indication of hurting. The last thing he needed was for Jack to think he was using less than straight up means to start talking again. As the muscle cramping eased up, he became aware his self-ministration had made him break out in a fine sweat. Crinkling his eyebrows, Daniel thought he’d better start working out more, if such a small amount of exertion made him overheat.

And become breathless. Damn, he was huffing like a chain smoker trying to tackle two flights of stairs. Wiping at his upper lip and rubbing the moisture off on his pant leg, Daniel frowned at how lightheaded he was beginning to feel. This was not normal overexertion. It was definitely getting warmer in his cubicle, and each breath seemed to bring in less oxygen. Eyes snapping up to Jack, he could feel his panic increasing and he tried to tame it. Hyperventilating would be a Bad Thing. Oh, yes, it would.

“Jack, I think I…have a…problem here,” he gasped, alarmed at how much effort it took to get the words out. Vision blurring and twisting, Daniel couldn’t be sure if his friend was swaying somewhat erratically or if his eyes were playing a trick on him. “Jack?”

“Problem here, too,” Jack called back, grunting as his body impacted solidly with the wall. Swaying erratically it was, then. “Goddamn thing seems to have a mind of its…ugh…own. What’s your situation?”

“Warm. Can’t…breathe.”

“Shit.”

“You can…say that again.”

“Stop talking. Take short, even breaths, if you can,” Jack coached, twisting his body so he was facing Daniel. “Look at me, Daniel. Focus.”

Uh oh. That was Jack’s alarmed voice. Daniel wished he could see the other man, but his vision was now virtually useless, gray fuzz occupying the entire field. Went nicely with the static in his ears, humming, buzzing and crackling like a bad AM radio station. Instinctively bringing his hands up to his shirt collar, he clawed at it as though it were choking him.

“Daniel! Daniel, stay with me!”

Oh, how he wished he could comply with that particular order. His arms dropped, knuckles grazing on the cold floor, and he was falling. Daniel knew it was going to hurt and tried to brace himself as he thudded into the shield. The electric surge lasted a fraction of a second, then he was blessed by darkness.

He wondered if anyone had got the license plate numbers of the truck that had run over him. Various body parts ached and cried out for immediate attention, each one more vocally than the last. Shifting his position from an unnatural, face down and twisted sprawl, Jack rolled over, regretting the action a second later when sharp pain cracked through the back of his head. Groaning, he turned his head and lifted a heavy hand to massage a good-sized lump. Bits and pieces of just how that had happened started to assault his memory. Better late than never, he realized he was no longer elevated off the floor by one leg, the last thing he remembered was swinging violently and impacting with the wall while attempting to… A sick feeling overcame him as the memories formed one terrible image.

“Daniel?” Jack croaked pathetically, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. If Daniel was with him here, wherever here was, the archaeologist would have been at his side at the first signs of awareness. Of course, he also knew Daniel could still be unconscious. Please, just unconscious. Nothing worse. Vivid blue eyes, wide with distress, haunted him. Snapping his own eyes open, he called again, “Daniel?”

Silence. Slate gray dinginess encompassed his entire range of vision. A wall, he realized, different from the one he’d collided with. Smoother. Jack cautiously shifted to his hands and knees, muscles and joints creaking in unison. Quickly scanning his surroundings, he discovered he was very much alone, and in a shallow, boxy cell of sorts. Three walls made of large stone blocks, and one that appeared completely open. He wouldn’t bet money it truly was. Bright, fluorescent light glared down on him, incongruous with the primitively constructed walls. Nothing else. No bed, no sink, no rubbish on the floor. And no Daniel. His friend’s absence was ominously conspicuous, sending a surge of dread through his mind. Stomach full of icy lead, he shakily crawled toward the open wall.

Expecting an invisible barrier to prevent his exit, Jack was stunned when he easily left the alcove. Once out, he clambered to his feet and managed a couple of stumbling steps. Vertigo made the going rough, slightly blurred vision not lending a hand either. Carefully probing the goose egg on his head, Jack cringed and guessed he had at least a minor concussion. Thinking around the headache was proving difficult, though a multitude of questions clamored away despite the pain. Closing his eyes and willing his head to stop hurting for just a minute, he heard soft sounds floating toward him—water dripping, something rustling and a low buzz. Instinct made him open his eyes and aim his body the direction of the noises, taking in as much information as he could while proceeding.

Glancing ahead, he realized he was in a wide hallway. The walls he’d thought were stone before looked…wrong, too smooth. He dismissed that as irrelevant and noted every five feet or so, a doorway like the one forming an exit to his alcove dotted both sides of the corridor, twelve on each side. Jack turned his head back the direction he’d come from, finding the same scenario there as well, briefly wondering if he should turn around and check those cells before investigating the noise. Energy flagging, he decided to skip them and press forward; when he was feeling better he could come back. He flicked his gaze to the ceiling, which was low, a narrow beam of intensely white light running down the center of it. Frowning, he started walking again. Staggering, actually. His legs were beginning to feel vaguely mulish and rubbery, apparently about ready to refuse to operate.

His need for information kept him going. He needed some clue as to his new location, how he’d got there, and what happened to Daniel, Carter and Teal’c. He didn’t know whether he should really want to find any of his team members here or not. After a moment’s consideration, Jack revised that thought. Daniel could be here, and alive. Hope, no matter how slim, was still hope.

Each doorway he passed earned a swift perusal of the interior, and each cell was thankfully yet frustratingly empty. After passing the fifth such recess, Jack’s legs finally gave up, demanding he rest. Depositing himself in an awkward heap, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes again. His mind wouldn’t permit the small reprieve, instantly noting the wall behind his shoulders was strangely warm and vibrating slightly. Sighing, he ran a hand down its surface and determined it was metal, not stone. He shivered despite the odd warmth emanating from it, wrapping his arms around his bare chest. Bare? Snapping his eyes open with alarm, he realized he was practically naked, clothed only in loose fitting drawstring pants made of coarse brown cloth. Damn, that should have been the first thing he noticed.

The constant shimmy of the wall could also be felt through the floor, and he could think of only one cause for it. He couldn’t be absolutely certain, but he was pretty damn sure he was in some type of moving vehicle. Possibly taking him away from all three of his teammates. Shit. Suddenly inspired to continue his slow but sure exploration, Jack rubbed at his temples and climbed to his feet. Running his left hand along the wall for balance, he concentrated on the sounds while he walked. Still surreptitiously checking the cells as he stumbled by, he could tell he was approaching a large open space, the rustling noises seeming to echo unnaturally. Frowning, he was so intent on reaching the end of the hall he almost walked right by it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flesh colored shape lying crumpled in a cell on the opposite side. It snared his attention, and he easily identified it as a body. An almost completely naked, face down, and definitely human body. Heart freezing, Jack automatically pushed away from the wall and staggered toward the unmoving person. It wasn’t going to be Daniel or Carter, just some other poor slob, stuck God knew where like him. Even as he thought that, he knew he was deluding himself. Before he’d come within five feet of the figure, he knew who it was. He could see an appendectomy scar on the partially twisted torso.

Oh, God. Daniel.

Jack swore he’d take back every rude comment he’d made to the archaeologist if only he were alive. Had to be. Aliens wouldn’t have any reason to bring him here if he were dead, right? Fervently needing that to be true, he fell to his knees beside the still form, ignoring the resulting pain shooting up to his hips. Reaching his hands out to flip his friend over, he drew back in sudden hesitation. He didn’t want proof of death, didn’t know if he could take that. No, Daniel wasn’t dead. They still needed to work on some things; the younger man knew that and wouldn’t let a little thing like death get in the way. Therefore, Daniel wasn’t dead. Reassured by his illogic, he gently laid one hand on a bare shoulder and trembled his other to rest just below Daniel’s jaw line.

The chill of the flesh beneath his fingertips almost made him retract his hands, did make him hunch over as fear contracted the muscles of his stomach lining. Cold seeping into his being as if through osmosis, Jack fumbled for a pulse and held his breath. Transubstantiating his muscles into lumps of rigidity, the cold was everywhere. He couldn’t find a beat. Not even a slight fluttering. Panicking, he manhandled Daniel onto his back and shook him.

“Daniel! Daniel, come on!” Jack pleaded, aware of hysteria inhabiting him with unusual vigor.

Calm. He needed to calm down. Daniel was NOT dead. Not even close. He was just a little high strung. Replacing his hand on the archaeologist’s neck, Jack willed a pulse to be there and slowed his own breathing as if that would somehow infuse life into his friend. Slowed it to the point he stopped, sagging when he still couldn’t find life. No, there. He swore he saw the chest rise and fall, if only minutely. Giving up on the carotid artery, he snatched up Daniel’s right arm and groped the wrist.

And sagged again, sucking in a great lungful of air. His head throbbed with the resurgence of blood into it, but he didn’t care. Daniel was alive. Jack allowed himself a second of intense relief, running both his hands through gritty hair before he unconsciously switched the action into rubbing Daniel’s shoulders. He made a quick assessment of the still man, frowning at the very abbreviated skivvies made of the same rough fabric as his own pants. That would account for the coolness, but he didn’t like that Daniel was so scantily clad. There didn’t appear to be anything outwardly wrong with the younger man, a fact made less soothing by the frightening pallor. He ran his hands along limp arms, searched the head for signs of trauma. Nothing. Letting out a relieved breath, he moved to the legs.

Hands sliding over Daniel’s thighs and down his calves, Jack scowled when his left bumped into something hard at the right heel. Lifting the limb gingerly, he bent down to get a closer look. Damn. Attached by means he really didn’t want to think about was a small cream-colored plastic box. On the front of it, a small orange light glowed. Setting Daniel’s leg back on the ground, he hastily yanked up his own pant leg and discovered an identical device. Taking into consideration the vaguely prison-like setting, he could only guess the things were tags of some sort. Like the kind a flight risk ex-convict had to wear while on parole. Correct assumption or not, he didn’t like the implications that came with it.

Shaking his head, he continued checking Daniel over, patting down his chest and torso. He halted when he noticed several tiny, almost imperceptible puncture wounds around the navel. Instantly reviewing the rest of Daniel’s body again, Jack was disturbed to find similar marks in assorted locations—one on each thigh and bicep, one over his sternum, another in the center of his neck. Swallowing, he carefully ran his hands through Daniel’s hair and clenched his jaw tightly. One at the base of his skull, bigger than the rest. It was second nature to check himself over, and he was stunned when his self examination yielded nothing; aside from the knock on his head, he was untouched. Dread injected into him with less finesse than any of Doc Fraiser’s nurses.

He lightly slapped Daniel’s face, hoping to gain any type of response. When none came, he crazily looked around the small room for something to aid him. As where he had awakened, the place was barren. Water. That’s right. Daniel would be okay until he could come back. Stiffly rising to his feet, Jack shuffled to the door with his original mission in mind. A wordless, sighing mewl stopped him in his tracks.

Back at Daniel’s side before he even registered moving, he anxiously watched the archaeologist for continued signs of awareness. Cupping his left hand over a cool cheek, Jack massaged it with his thumb. It seemed to work, as Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and leaned into the bare embrace. Warmth effused through him, banishing the cold grip of fear still there. As if needing to share the sensation, he again started to rub the younger man’s shoulder.

“Daniel,” he coaxed, this time truly believing he’d get a reaction.

“Mmmm,” Daniel breathed, the last bit coming out as a squeaking gasp, eyelids twitching and finally opening a crack.

“Hey, nice of you to join me.”

Confusion, fear and pain chased each other’s tails in Daniel’s eyes, which widened at Jack’s greeting. There was no recognition in the gaze, and for a second he found himself panicking again. Then Daniel nodded once and closed his eyes. As much as he hated dragging his friend to full consciousness, he was all too aware of how little he knew about where they were. And what had been done to at least one of them. He wanted the other man mobile. Pronto.

“Sorry, Daniel,” Jack muttered, grasping both of his friend’s shoulders and tugging him into a sitting position. Daniel groaned, but seemed to understand his intentions because he could feel muscles trying to work beneath his hands. “That’s it. Open your eyes again.”

Dutifully, if sluggishly, complying, Daniel peered at him blearily. Not pleased at the persistent disorientation and apparent inability to focus his eyes, Jack maneuvered the archaeologist and propped him against the wall. Hot bursts of air dampened his shoulder as he leaned in to try and situate the other man as comfortably as possible. Worried about Daniel’s unusual acquiescent silence, he pulled back and studied his friend closely.

“You with me?”

An uncoordinated head bob; another loud sigh.

“Can you talk? This may come as a surprise, but I’d really like to hear you say something right about now,” Jack jokingly said, trying to disguise mounting concern. Daniel’s eyebrows quirked, though he couldn’t be sure if that meant anything or was merely residual muscle spasms. Plastering a reassuring smile on his face, he scooted back further, keeping a loose grip on the other man. “And the wonders will never cease.”

To Jack’s dismay, Daniel simply blinked at him, closed his eyes and slumped to the side.

Trying very hard to do as Jack asked, Daniel blinked to focus his blurry vision. The face in front of his was still a featureless blob, so he blinked again and found he couldn’t reopen his eyes. The trace of control he had over his muscles evaporated, leaving him limp and slowly tipping over. Knowing landing was going to hurt, he braced himself, suddenly struck with an indistinct memory of recently doing the exact same thing. And failing.

“Shit,” he heard Jack murmur, then he was involuntarily changing direction mid fall. His face landed not on hard ground, but something soft. There was a strange vibration rippling through him as Jack continued, “I’ll take that as a no.”

After several disorienting moments, he realized Jack had caught and was cushioning him. Daniel wanted to open his eyes and let his friend know he was fine, just a little muddled. Nothing seemed to want to work, though; he could barely feel his arms and legs, let alone use them. It was as though he was waking up after surgery, his brain and body still affected by the anaesthetic. But he hadn’t had surgery, had he? Scouring a spotty memory, the last thing he remembered with any clarity was he and Jack arguing. Feeling boxed in.

“Well, it’s not like you can hear me, but I’m going to set you down and go see if I can find some water or something, okay?”

Jack apparently didn’t expect an answer, because Daniel was again moving without any effort on his own part. The motion, while amazingly gentle, made the contents of his stomach swish and spin with such forcefulness he started breathing heavily in an attempt to settle the nausea. It didn’t work.

“Guh…” Daniel gasped, then dry heaved. For some reason, he really didn’t want to vomit all over Jack. “Puke.”

“Crap!” Jack exclaimed, quickly and dizzyingly whirling him to his side.

A strange part of his mind wanted to teasingly correct Jack there was no danger of crap but his mouth was suddenly filled with bile and acid, taking away the option. Spitting out the foulness, Daniel coughed, each paroxysm actually seeming to return some of the feeling to his useless limbs. The spasms lasted for several minutes after his stomach was emptied, tearing into him and reminding him why it sucked so much to be sick. Through it all, hands kneaded his back and shoulders, and words he couldn’t really decipher filled his ears.

Jack. Confusion set in, a clear image of the other man hanging upside down back on…P-something. He couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter, really. Shivers sent goosebumps across his body, which Daniel slowly realized was disproportionately exposed to cold air. The massaging hands picked up their pace, attempting to supply warmth through friction. Pleasantly surprised when it worked, he sighed and felt his stomach stop its queasy tumult at long last. Scratching noises and a soft grunt warned just prior to another shift in position, and he was back on something warm and soft.

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

Worried tone, very nearly scared. Daniel frowned at the incongruity of both things coming from his usually stalwart companion. The need to understand where they were and what was causing Jack’s concern prompted him to try to open his eyes again. Unwilling eyelids fluttered briefly, letting in snaps of raw brightness and he squinted to minimize the discomfort. A pinkish mass hovered directly over his face, and he drew back from it until he realized it was a hand, shielding him from the worst of the fluorescent rays beating into his retinas. He switched his gaze to locate the source of the warmth behind his left shoulder and back, finding Jack examining him. Relief replaced apprehension as the predominant emotion expressed on the other man’s face when Daniel nodded haphazardly.

“Where…” Daniel started to ask around an abnormally thick tongue, clearing his throat before continuing, “Where are we?”

“Don’t know. I woke up in a different, uh, room and was heading out for recon when I found you. My guess is we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“You mean not on P…not on the planet?” God, he wished his head would get up to speed.

“I can’t be sure, but yes. I’m getting the feeling we’re in some kind of ship.”

“How…”

“Did we get here?” Jack finished, apparently not wanting him to talk. Daniel couldn’t argue. “Again, don’t know. The last thing I remember was you, uh, passing out. Then my head smacked into the wall and bang, I woke up here. Do you remember anything?”

Tension, irritation and arguing, followed by asphyxiation and fear. Gulping in a deep lungful of air, Daniel had hazy recollections of waking and losing consciousness again. Of something invading his personal space, stripping and poking and hands. Hands on him, not with a reassuring touch. Losing self-control, he stared up at Jack and opened his mouth to speak but only a weak croak came out. He didn’t know what it was he was remembering, only that he felt violated in some way. Shuddering, he looked away from his friend and took a scant survey of the room they were in. A prison cell, only too sterile.

“Daniel? What do you remember? This could be important.”

“I don’t. Something…what happened?” he choked, trying to stem the horrible feeling from rising. Jack sighed an angry curse, his arms tightening, and Daniel turned back toward him. The horrible feeling conquered his ineffectual attempts, leaving him cold with unnamable fear as he took in the sick expression on his friend’s face. “Something happened?”

Jack sagged, taking on the appearance of someone much, much older. Ancient and aged and drained. Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he already partially suspected. Studying the other man, he searched for indications Jack was hurt in some way. Muted pain creased the corners of Jack’s eyes, but it didn’t appear unmanageable. Hit his head. Nothing else had happened to his friend. Him, whatever it was.

“Jack?”

“We’re both fitted with a device I think is meant to keep tabs on us,” Jack grimly said, averting his eyes. “It took you a lot longer to wake up than me, almost like you’d been drugged. Obviously a source of concern.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me,” Daniel prompted, brain abruptly turning back on. His unsettled return to consciousness had reminded him of post op recovery. God, what if that were the case? Frantically, he tried to sit up, eyes darting across his bare torso for signs or scars.

“Hey, hey. Relax. You’re okay, Daniel. I swear.” Jack took a long pause, mechanically patting his shoulder again. Easing into the embrace he should feel awkward about, Daniel calmed down a bit with the knowledge Jack would tell him if something were truly wrong. “I don’t have any idea what they mean, so don’t panic. I found multiple puncture wounds scattered around your body, but I don’t think they’re dangerous.”

Stripping and poking and hands, hands on him. Shuddering, he closed his eyes. “Punctures? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Not a mark on me,” Jack said angrily, causing Daniel to stare up at him.

Feeling stronger, Daniel pulled out of Jack’s grasp, scooting away from the other man and sitting under his own power at last. The room did a half loop before straightening into gray dampness, and he quelled another surge of nausea by using Jack as a focal point. Alarmed when he thought he read guilt staring back at him through his friend’s eyes, he shook his head. He didn’t even understand what had happened, but he knew this was no one’s fault. Not his own for springing the traps, not Jack’s for bumping into him and unintentionally causing him to spring the traps, not Sam or Teal’c's for…

“Sam? Teal’c?” Daniel squeaked, afraid they were here and Jack had found them. That they were dead and that’s what was making Jack look so upset.

“Haven’t seen them,” Jack said quickly, remorse filling his eyes as he ran a hand across his mouth. The other man paused, tilting his head to one side. “Actually, I haven’t seen anyone other than you.”

“We’re alone?” Half glad and half disheartened his other two friends weren’t with them, Daniel’s confusion nonetheless grew with that information. It didn’t make sense for them to be the only ones here. Where were their captors?

“Don’t think so. There are sounds of activity coming from down the hall.”

“We should go check it out, then.”

“We’re not going anywhere, Daniel,” Jack snapped, jerkily rising to his feet and pacing the small room. Daniel didn’t miss the off-kilter hitches in the other man’s normally fluid stride. “You’re secure for the time being. I’ll go see what I can find out, then come back for you.”

Taken aback by the brusque delivery of Jack’s orders, Daniel climbed to his feet to show both of them he was fine, if that was the issue. Of course, he wasn’t fine. Once standing, he discovered his legs were still pretty unsteady, and the action made his head throb, vision distort. Determined not to let that stop him, he braved one step and instantly knew it was a mistake. Quickly groping for the wall, he leaned against it as casually as possible, as if that had been his intention all along and not simply a byproduct of severe dizziness.

“I should come with you,” Daniel announced, defiantly glaring at Jack’s wavering form.

And suddenly Jack was right in his face, jaw tightly clenched. Startled, Daniel jumped and lost his already precarious balance, slipping gracelessly down the smooth wall. Landing on his rear, he scowled in irritation at his body’s betrayal. He knew he needed to be with Jack, no matter what manner of beast might be lurking out there. Crouching down in front of him, his friend smiled grimly but gone was the frustration he’d witnessed before.

“Not this time, Daniel. You can barely stand, might have been injected with a foreign substance at one point from there to here, AND,” Jack raised his voice as Daniel started to claim complete healthiness, “AND if this is a prison of some sort, that get up is the last thing you want to go traipsing around in. No, I take that back—it’s the second to the last thing. You’re staying here. That’s not debatable.”

“But Jack, what if—”

“Anh! Not. Debatable. I’m going, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. You will be here and you will not have set foot from this room.”

Then Jack practically flew away from him, agility apparently restored as if through some miracle, leaving Daniel openmouthed, confused and unheard. He felt like a child reprimanded for something he hadn’t done, yet hadn’t been given the chance to provide any defense before punishment was doled out.

Back to the basics, then.

As thankful and heart trippingly happy he was Daniel was alive, Jack was filled with aggravation at the younger man’s unwillingness to follow orders. Going from thinking his team member was dead to being overwhelmingly annoyed with said almost dead team member in a matter of minutes made his head feel like a slab of marble being chiseled by an inept artist. An inept and careless artist. Every couple of feet he turned around, expecting the archaeologist to be doggedly following him as if it were his sole duty in life to be a pain in Jack’s mik’ta.

Progress stilted by frequent Daniel checks, he passed only four more cubbyholes in the same amount of time it had taken him to find his friend. Damnit. He had to let his anger go, not let it hinder his task. Daniel could hardly move; he wouldn’t be foolish enough to disregard the logic in Jack’s reasoning. Resisting the urges to turn around, he continued on for a couple more paces when he came upon a larger alcove housing ten strange bowl shaped, chrome fixtures, low to the ground and evenly spaced. Five on either side of a bigger piece of equipment. Dumbly staring at it for a second, it finally dawned at him that this room was apparently a communal bathroom. Duh. It didn’t take an archaeologist to figure that out.

Archaeologist. Right. Setting aside his lingering ill will toward Daniel, he sauntered over to the big basin thingy, hoping it was a sink or shower or something useful like that. No faucet or spigot was blatantly obvious, so Jack notched one step closer, launching himself backward as a deluge sprang forth and frowning when it immediately stopped. Okay, so the thing was motion sensitive. The problem of lack of water solved, he relaxed a little. No, not solved at all. He paused, looking around for a container to fill. Finding nothing but the ten odd urinal/bidet things. Which were so not an option. Sighing, he edged back into the hallway and tipped his head toward the noises he had originally set out for.

A twinge of hesitation hit him. Militarily, he knew it was best for him to do the information gathering while the possibly physically and chemically impaired civilian waited behind. However, not knowing what or who he was about to run into, Jack also figured having an archaeologist/anthropologist/speaker of many tongues at his side wasn’t such a bad thought either. Damnit. That was probably what Daniel had been trying to tell him. So, forge ahead and hope for the best, or admit he hadn’t considered all the options and retrieve his still recuperating teammate?

The image of Daniel’s dumbfounded expression as he’d left made the decision much easier but he couldn’t use that as the solitary basis for it. So far, no threat had made its presence known, a gift Jack knew he shouldn’t waste. And he also knew he couldn’t rely on it, and quickly determined it would be better to face the unknown together instead of individually. He had no idea who had brought them here, and leaving his friend alone and sick was, in hindsight, not the smartest thing to do. Rolling his eyes, Jack swiveled and began the laborious trek back to the other man. He just hoped Daniel wouldn’t make him grovel.

Had he found Daniel in the room where he’d left him, he might have been happy to grovel. Instead, all he found was the puddled evidence of an upset stomach and three blank walls pointing their imaginary fingers and laughing at his stupidity. Damnit, Daniel. Anger quickly replaced shock, and was then replaced with fear. He didn’t know for sure the archaeologist had ventured from the cell. For all he knew, the critters responsible for bringing them both here had somehow taken him somewhere. The one thing he did know was Daniel had not gone in the same direction as he, so Jack exited the room and briskly walked down the hall, back toward his original alcove.

His journey only lasted three cells, where he found Daniel hunched over, back toward him. Crying a mental ‘argh’, Jack jumped to his friend’s side. The archaeologist twitched violently at his arrival, turning stricken eyes up to him. What? Puzzled, Jack crouched down and placed a hand on a cool, bare shoulder.

“Daniel?” he prompted, gaining only a headshake and averted eyes. He followed the gaze and finally noticed he and Daniel weren’t the only two people in the room. Dear Go…what was that thing? “Shit.”

“I think it’s dead.”

Biting back a reaction-induced caustic comment, Jack just nodded, squeezed the clammy shoulder and tugged at Daniel to get him away from the corpse. Their situation just became a little clearer and a lot direr. Whatever that thing was, it had obviously been tortured. Because he knew it might prove valuable, Jack did a quick examination of the body. It was small and vaguely humanoid in shape, but there any similarities to humanity ended. A fine layer of brown fuzz covered the entire, unclothed body and its one remaining hand was more accurately described as a paw, a familiar device attached to it with the orange light no longer illuminated. The remaining five…arms ended in stumps, none of the injuries recent. A multitude of ragged, hairless lines indicative of scarring marred its torso, also not recent. There was no way to tell what exactly had killed the poor thing, though Jack had to figure repeated trauma might have had a hand in it.

Harsh rasping and distressed gagging interrupted his investigation, pulling his attention to his companion. Daniel hovered behind him, eyes fixated on the creature with horror. The archaeologist blinked, looking at him at last and stating woodenly, “About a minute after you left, I heard a soft scraping noise, then crying. Or something. God, it was alive when I got here, Jack. I tried to talk to it, but the few words it managed were completely unfamiliar to me. I couldn’t do anything for it.”

“No one could have,” Jack assured, rising to his feet and grabbing the other man’s shoulders to hoist him up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Daniel mutely nodded, accepting his help and staggering toward the exit. Disregarding the fact the other man had patently gone against his directive, Jack turned his inquisitive eyes onto him. Satisfied to see his friend moving much more steadily than he had been before, he watched Daniel quietly for a few moments before his gaze landed on additional puncture marks dotting his back, big enough to be visible even from a distance. Gritting his teeth together, he spared one last look at what he hoped was not a precursor to their own experiences and jogged to catch up with the archaeologist. Gleaning facts about their whereabouts and captors was more important than ever.

Silently moving down the wide corridor a few steps, Daniel suddenly stopped and turned to him with a pained expression. Blood solidifying in his veins, Jack lightly touched his friend’s arm, not sure what was wrong and not wanting to provoke unintentional hurt. To his surprise, Daniel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously before he said, “Wait a minute. Why did you come back, and aren’t you going to yell at me?”

“Don’t think I’m not pissed as hell your interpretation of ‘don’t leave this room’ was more along the lines of ‘don’t leave this room unless you hear unusual, possibly threatening sounds of which investigating alone in a weakened state would be dangerous’. I am,” Jack calmly said, which was the truth. “But this once, I’m willing to cut you a little slack, what with your brain being addled and since no harm came to you.”

Obviously, that wasn’t the right thing to say. The pained and confused look disappeared from Daniel’s face in lieu of indignation. Oh, boy. Wishing he could backpedal a couple of minutes, Jack just sighed and started talking again before his garrulous friend had the chance to tirade, “Okay, look. We don’t have time for this right now. I was coming back to get you because I found water but no container to put it in.”

Silence.

“You’re looking much better, by the way. Did I mention that?”

More silence.

“Fine, and I figured if I were to encounter some alien…things, you’d be better at opening the lines of communication. If you were feeling up to doing recon,” Jack hastily admitted, feeling ten times the idiot for having been forced to confess his shortsightedness. Which he never should have let happen in the first place.

“Huh?” Daniel stuttered, features morphing into flustered stupefaction. “Really?”

Clearly the other man had expected a firm dressing down, and one probably riddled with inappropriately boorish comments. Jack barely contained a wince of distaste at the reminder of how piss poor their friendship had become that his admitting error was such a shock. Impatience and irritation was now aimed at himself for not acknowledging culpability sooner, and for not taking the time to make repairs along the way instead of waiting until things were so bad a total overhaul had to be done. This, however, was neither the time nor the place to do it, and yet Jack had a feeling there may be little choice in that regard. His gut told him he and Daniel were in a whole world of trouble, the corpse they’d just left more than enough confirmation of that.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. I’m, uh, you know, sorry. For not listening to you.”

Daniel looked green around the gills as he unconsciously darted his eyes back to the cell and the body. Jack had no doubt the younger man wouldn’t be able to forget that particular image any time soon, a far worse punishment than any reproof on his part would have been. He couldn’t take any satisfaction with the knowledge, and he didn’t think he’d likely forget it either. Now he could only hope something worse didn’t come down the pike to replace it. Something like that mutilation happening to Daniel…or finding Carter and Teal’c already in that condition. No. He couldn’t let his mind wander down those particular paths, not when they were still relatively clueless. Things might not be as bad as they seemed.

“I know,” was all he told the archaeologist, cupping an elbow and guiding Daniel a few paces before letting his hand drop. “Let’s go get that water.”

“Works for me,” Daniel agreed, fingers stroking one temple.

“Head hurt?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You could be dehydrated.”

Jack thought it infinitely more likely leftover side effects from an anaesthetic, but he didn’t want to voice or think about that in any great detail. He just let silence fall as they slowly picked their way closer to the bathroom. His own headache seemed better, but still banged away. Scowling at their slow advancement, he regretted their less than top rate conditions. Despite the improvements, Daniel was still shaky and white-faced, and he felt only slightly less horrible than his friend looked. Eyeing the box on Daniel’s leg with suspicion, he was reminded of the other man’s near nakedness. Finding clothes got bumped up on the already huge to do list.

They were almost at their destination when a loud, hollow ringing filled the air in two long bursts. Daniel skittered back toward him, wary anxiety in his entire countenance. Ready to assure him everything was fine, Jack heard many sets of feet heading their way from the end of the hall. He blinked stupidly as several creatures skulked into cells. Daniel tugged his arm in query, and he just shrugged and moved into the closest alcove, bringing his friend with him. There was nowhere to hide.

“What do you think is going on?”

He ignored the question, too busy watching the grotesque procession now moving past them. Finding a place to hide or an escape suddenly became a great idea, and Jack quickly snapped a glance at Daniel. Shaking the younger man from the stupor he had fallen in, he took one step forward to lead them out of their cell. Daniel’s hiss of pain sounded in his ears before the electricity dancing over his own nerves was felt, and they both fell back from the now not so open doorway to land in a jumble of arms and legs.

“Crap,” Jack groaned. They were boned again.

“Jack, can you…” Daniel gasped, wriggling underneath him.

“Sorry.”

Rolling away from what might have been construed as a compromising position, Jack again studied Daniel for signs of further injury. That blast had knocked them all the way across the room, packing quite a punch. His friend only had eyes for the parade, visage becoming more disturbed with very new abhorrence passing by. He reluctantly joined in the spectatorship, his own sickness growing. If this was a prison or prison ship, he really didn’t want to be here. Really, really. Would strongly consider selling his soul to get him and Daniel so far away from this place its existence would become a distant, erroneous figment of their collective imaginations.

One by one, downtrodden and disfigured aliens trooped toward open cells. None of them bore any resemblance to the human form, and he couldn’t even tell if any of them belonged to the same species as each other, their afflictions were so horrific. Some hobbled on only one leg, others missing hands, fingers, eyes. As with the creature Daniel had discovered, multiple jagged scars covered each body, and Jack didn’t need a lot of creativity to understand internal organs were also missing. Daniel made tiny retching noises next to him, the sounds portentous despite being slight. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen to them. No.

They sat in stunned silence, back up against the far wall as the last alien limped by. The air around them was filled with low keening, wails held in for fear or necessity. Turning to his friend, Jack signaled for him to remain quiet, though he could see the questions in Daniel’s eyes. Something in the atmosphere and the behavior of the other prisoners suggested something else was about to happen, and it wasn’t good. The rest of the people on board this vessel had obviously been here for a long time, so Jack thought it wise to mimic their bearing until he could figure out what to do. If he could do anything at all. To this point, he had failed to complete any given task.

Another lone metallic toll sounded, lower in pitch than before. The alien residing across the way from them stood to attention, its head brushing the ceiling. Jack tried not to stare at the gigantic praying mantis type thing, which would normally have been considered a threat. Missing half of its limbs and locked away from him, he felt only pity for it. He took its lead, scrambling to his feet and ushering Daniel to do the same. Side by side, they waited. The apprehension from the archaeologist was palpable, and his own muscles twanged in return. He risked grasping Daniel’s forearm, hoping to give and gain reassurance. The other man’s muscles flexed under his fingers, and the arm was moved closer to him. He nodded.

The wait wasn’t long. About a minute after the resonance of the bell had subsided, Jack heard more footsteps approaching. Not as many, and very steady. Unharmed. Their mysterious kidnappers, it would seem. Glancing at Daniel, he squeezed his hand once and then let go. No need to demonstrate their feelings to an unknown enemy. Daniel nodded, hesitantly stepping away from him. Jack didn’t know why, but the move set his hackles on edge. He found out why a few moments later.

It was almost laughable. Stalking closer to them down the center of the corridor, with grandeur and bluster far bigger than they themselves were, came five miniature, robed beings. First appraisal pegged them at about four feet tall, with translucent skin, fine blond hair, pale green eyes and dainty, long fingered hands. Actually, everything about them screamed frailty, and he incredulously shared a look with Daniel. Then common sense reasserted as he remembered the much larger aliens being held by these sprites. Best not to judge a book by its cover. From what he could tell, they were just checking to ensure all of their captives were safely contained.

One of them excitedly pointed directly at him and Daniel, the rest following the finger. Rapid chattering immediately arose and he had a feeling they weren’t saying nice things, their green eyes darkening with eerie menace. All five scurried to stand before their cell, staring at them with expressions blank, except for the green sparks blazing from their large eyes. He had no idea what he and Daniel had done to piss them off, but their ire was apparent. Three of them abruptly moved forward, breaching the barrier with no adverse effects. Jack instinctively stiffened, the action proving unnecessary as they ignored him and aimed straight for the archaeologist.

“Hey,” he objected, lifting his arms to bat away the hands intruding upon his friend. Daniel helplessly stared at him as the aliens prodded him closer to the door, looking as though he were afraid to strike out at the small creatures. No way. Bad things happened when the pair of them were together; worse when separated. “He stays here!”

“Jack, I don’t think—”

Lunging forward, his hands brushed Daniel’s shoulder before the aliens swept the other man farther away. A sharp burning sensation rocketed up his right leg, intensifying until it seemed to make his muscles atrophy. He buckled, slamming down face first onto the floor. He faintly heard Daniel’s protestations but couldn’t move as the shield was apparently turned off and the archaeologist pushed out. The pain abruptly cut off, leaving him breathless. Jack forced his head up in time to hear a sizzle, which he assumed was the shield turning back on, and see Daniel’s legs stumbling away.

He lifted himself up, catching the desperate look in Daniel’s eyes, then saw gray as his head fell back down.