Step By Step
missing scene for 'One False Step'
By
Gatejunkie
Click for details and warnings
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. This story may not be posted anywhere without the consent of the authors.
Step By Step
Raw, barbed pain jolted Jack’s legs, zigzagging tear-producing spasms through his spine. Each step built excruciating pressure behind his eyes until it boomed with the intensity of a vicious thunderstorm. Gradually crushing his brain, the headache squeezed his thoughts into ragged scraps of meaning. Like when voodoo guys shrink your skull. O'Neill's jaw ached from grinding his teeth together. He couldn't have smiled at his private joke if he'd wanted to. If he cracked his lips even the tiniest bit...a cry would escape. He wanted neither the sound nor the frailty it represented.
No way in hell. No way in hell am I gonna scream. Puffs of dust billowed around Jack's feet, irritating his nose. The tickle prickled the roof of his mouth. I can't sneeze. If I sneeze, I'll explode my head. This whole muddle started with a sneeze anyway. If I sneeze, I'll be just like... Jack refused to think the name as a wave of guilt hunched his aching shoulders. Sometimes, he could be a real bastard. It wasn't Daniel's fault he felt like hell.
Isn't it? Didn't the geek make us all sick?
Jack clenched his teeth tighter, escalating the misery in his head.
The sun beat mercilessly down, baking him into a sodden, sweat damp mess of stained fatigues. The stomach churning smell of his own stale body bolted acid into his throat. Jack swallowed desperately, but the bitter taste lingered on his tongue.
The dusty path stretched out before him, growing longer and longer. Would he never reach the Stargate and get out of this unending wasteland? Jack licked sandy lips. The gritty taste was nothing compared to the rough patch of dryness lodged at the back of his throat. He'd kill for a drink of water. Seeking one meant delaying his return to Earth, and he wanted that more than anything. Despite the protective goggles he wore, sun stabbed his oversensitive eyes, sharding light directly into his brain. Maybe Janet could find a way to remove his head from his shoulders. It couldn't hurt any more than it already did. The land beneath his boots shifted.
Friggin' rock, Jack thought, glaring at the stone which had made him stumble.
"Argh..."
The muffled cry thinned O'Neill's mouth and lined a crease between his eyebrows. Don't turn around. Keep going. You can make it if you just...don't...stop.
"Darn, it."
The frustrated sob in the curse halted Jack's stumbling progress. "Dammit, Daniel," he hissed, whirling to confront the one who'd ceased his forward motion. His fist swung with him. Had Daniel been standing, he would have been knocked down. Headache flaring like a flash burn behind his eyes, Jack's glare skewered the man on the ground. Why did Jackson always end up in the dirt? "Need a hand?" he growled, his arms leaden against shivering sides.
Daniel's wounded glance captured his briefly before the younger man averted his gaze and slowly shook his head no. The hurting, lost puppy look could have melted the most hardened heart. Blue eyes liquid with pain and something else more indefinable stared unseeing at Jack's knees.
He looks like his best friend died. O'Neill's compressed lips were a thin band of whitened flesh. His heart wasn't stone. It was racing like a runaway mustang leaving him no extra breath to console his inept companion. He cocked his head. Blazing pain fractured his thoughts at the rash movement. Oh God. Wrong thing to do. A jagged sigh escaped his mouth. He'd wait for Daniel's spoken reply if it killed him. It probably will.
"No," Daniel panted raggedly, realizing SG-1's leader wanted something more from him than a nonverbal response. "I'll be all right. Go on. I'll...I'll...catch up."
Shit. Shit. Shit. Jack forced his weak legs to retrace the last twenty paces to his downed teammate. Each step hooked another fiery talon in his skull, shredding the gray matter inside. Tears blurred his vision by the time he reached Daniel's position. He blinked, ignoring the warm moisture trickling beneath his goggles to furrow clean, twin trails in the dust on his face . I'm not crying. My eyes are burning from this freakin' glare.
"Jack...go," Daniel pleaded, biting his lower lip to stop its quiver. Despite the goggles hiding O'Neill's brown eyes, the evident wretchedness on his friend's haggard features scared him. The last time he'd seen Jack in this much distress, an alien artifact had nailed him to the wall with a pole through his shoulder, leaving him wriggling like a moth on a pin. Fear and guilt knotted Daniel's throat at the memory. Had his insistence on staying on PJ2-445 caused his and Jack's illness? Were they paying the price because he wanted this place to be something wonderful?
Jack held out a gloved hand. "Shut up. I don't leave my people behind." His fingers twitched as if they wanted to curl into a fist and pound. Why was he just sitting there as if...as if. "Is your ass rooted to the spot or something, plantboy?" The words were out before O'Neill could call them back.
Tear filled eyes shimmered like a heat mirage in desert sun. "N-no," Daniel stuttered, reaching out his shaking hand to grasp the extended fingers. He swallowed a moan as he was not so gently hauled to his feet. What did it matter if Jack made fun of him? So many others had. The older man wouldn't be the last. He deserved it anyway for getting them all in this mess. I deserve more than that. I'm killing these people. God, why did I have to sneeze?
Noting the misery painted with a heavy hand across the scientist's ashen features, O'Neill pushed his sunglasses to his forehead, squinting against the unrelenting glare. For cryin' out loud. Jack sighed again. "Daniel...I..."
"S'okay." Daniel's forgiveness came on an uneven breath. He swayed.
As always, O'Neill's hand was immediately there to steady him.
Daniel's raw emotions were soothed by the touch. How many times had Jack comforted him or calmed him in this way? It was almost as if the contact lent him the courage to do the impossible.
"Let's take a quick break," O'Neill suggested although it was the last thing he wanted. Seeing the drawn, pinched cast to his companion's face, he schooled himself to patience. His teammate wouldn't make this trip if he bullied him. Barely standing, the kid looked as if his life was draining into the barren soil beneath his boots.
You can't baby him either. Jack shushed the thought.
"I thought you were in a hurry to get back?" Daniel wanted, needed, ached for a moment to recuperate, but he wouldn't stand in the way of the soldier's objective. The merciless headache shot invisible daggers into his mind, and it took everything he had not to cry out against the renewed assault. Don't be a baby. No one likes a weakling. Only wimps get sick. Daniel studied the older man's still face. O'Neill could've rivaled the Sphinx in keeping secrets, especially ones concerning his own welfare. Unreasonable anger knotted Daniel's throat. Jack's being a macho jerk. He needs rest too, but he won't cry uncle. Well, damn it. I'll cry for both of us if he's too ignorant to know when to quit.
"You won't keep up if I keep pushing."
"I told you to leave me," Daniel snapped defiantly, tired of feeling like he provided an excuse for Jack to feel human. "I'm not helpless, you know."
He wants to fight? By God, I'll give him one! Bloodshot eyes glittering dangerously, O'Neill seized the scientist's collar. "I.." A shake for emphasis. "Don't." Shake. "Leave." Shake. "My." Shake. "Team." Shake. Shake. "Got that?"
Agony howled in Daniel's head with each jerking movement. God. God. Make him stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. I'll be good. I'm not sick. "P-please...Jack..." he managed on a sobbed breath.
Stricken, Jack's forced his fingers from fisting in the rough material of Daniel's shirt. I wanted to hurt him. I almost hit him. What kind of monster am I? Unbidden, the memory of his father's thick, rawhide strap flashed into his mind, dredging up the ghost of stinging, humiliating lashes for mere infractions of rules.
As the sickening agony in his skull receded to a less intense level, Daniel saw the haunted look in the brown eyes opposite his. Curiosity overrode suffering and fear. What was that about? Before he could question it, he felt his knees liquefy.
"Easy, bucko."
Jack's strong hands supported him. Only moments before, they'd cruelly gripped. Now, they were concerned, helping, steadfast. Just like Jack under his tough shell. He always protects me. What in hell was I thinking to goad him? Daniel reached out and briefly squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I can make it, Jack. We don't have to stop now. It's what...an hour or so?"
Jack gave a brief nod and hissed as his headache escalated. "You sure?" Although he knew Daniel really needed a respite, the soldier had to push onward. He wanted to run as far and as fast as he could away from this place which skewered his skull with spikes and dredged up terrible memories of.... No. I'm not going to think of Dad. I won't.
"S-sure." Daniel took a determined, staggering step then another. And another. Ever so slowly, struggling with each motion, the scientist proved he could stay the course. Perspiration streaked his pale face, darkening his blond hair to a thick matted brown at his temples, making his spine clammy. His mouth was a grim slash in washed out skin. Gummy flatness coated the inside of his mouth. Blue eyes were dulled with agony and the misery of movement. He focused on the wavering path in front of him, vowing to ignore the nails driving into his mind and the madly thumping of his out-of-control heart. A sneeze ripped through him, wringing a moan from his lips despite his best intentions. Gotta, gotta go on. Daniel kept stumbling forward.
Jack's fingers reached toward his friend's sweat-stained back, wanting to stop him, insist they breathe for a second before the grueling pace of their journey began anew.
You won't make a man out of him that way. Looking at his boots, the soldier grimaced at his father's harsh voice in his mind. Jack began to shake his head to dislodge the thought but didn't. The motion would only produce a bigger spike of torment. S omething's jabbing at my brain with an ice pick. I don't need it to change into a pickaxe.
"Coming?"
Jack dragged his preoccupied gaze from the cracked ground. "Yeah," he croaked, reaching his companion in a few bone-grating strides. The duo shambled along in silence as if they were as old as Apophis.
For some unnamed reason, O'Neill felt reassured by the loyal presence beside him. Daniel wouldn't be able to carry him like Teal'c or maybe think of a brilliant way to get him home like Carter, but the kid wouldn't leave him. Even if death approached, Daniel would stand beside him, more than likely stepping inbetween the soldier and the grim reaper to take the brunt of whatever cruel fate craved Jack O'Neill's hide. Even if kismet rejected Daniel's life and took his instead, O'Neill knew the younger man would hold him tightly as life slipped away. He wouldn't shirk from offering whatever he could to make Jack's passing easier or from giving anything within his power to give. The warrior had had plenty of friends who'd die for him but damn few who'd sacrifice their souls for him. The knowledge humbled the soldier's heart, bringing stinging emotion to knot his throat.
"Jack?"
The rasping whisper sounded unnaturally loud in the still air. "What?"
"D-do you th-think Janet's cured the alien?"
"Maybe." Jack heard the desperate need for optimism in Daniel's faltering voice, but he couldn't give false hope.
Daniel nodded sadly, accepting the neutral answer.
Knowing the discomfort the action must have caused, Jack ignored the hammering inside his skull and tried to think of some way to ease the archeologist's conscience. The comfort of words was not easy for him at the best of times. With the headache making speech damn near impossible, Jack suggested, "Don't talk, Daniel. It's...wasting energy. Save it till we get back."
"'Kay..."
Got to do something. Got to find a way. Jack knew the answer lay at home, on the other side of the 'gate. Here on this end...he was becoming his father. I can't help Daniel if I act like Dad. Hell, I'd probably walk the poor dork into the ground to prove a useless point. A shudder rippled the tensed muscles between his shoulder blades. Never, never, ever had he wanted to become his father.
"We'll make it, Jack." Daniel's gasps sounded harsher, but his miserable gaze fixed on the far horizon as if it held their salvation.
Perhaps it does. Gotta believe it does. "You bet," Jack agreed at last, looking into the same distance.
Shuffling, the two friends inched toward the Stargate. Step by wretched step they made their way together. Both kept their own counsel to avoid speaking any more hateful words which neither really meant.
When Daniel stumbled again, Jack's arm shot out to catch him. The movement would have sent them both to their knees if the archeologist hadn't responded by snaking his own arm around O'Neill's waist. A grim smile sketched both of their lips as they stood there swaying, breaths harsh in the heavy, still air. Only by relying on each other's strength would they be able to escape this hell.
"Will you…still respect me…in the morning," Jack managed as he dragged air into his heaving lungs.
Daniel wanted to laugh but knew it would shred the last of his endurance. "Nope," he breathed, the tightening of his grip countering the words as if to say O'Neill could never, ever lose his respect.
Agonizing hours later, they stumbled against the DHD, their trembling arms slung about each other's shoulders to keep themselves upright. The fairly short journey had stretched into an unimagined three hours. Waning stubbornness saw them through growing hopelessness. Sweat coated their shivering bodies, and they were half blind from headaches.
Gritting his teeth, Daniel reached out a shaking hand and carefully pressed the glyphs for Earth. The blasting kawhoosh of energy surged forward before spiraling back into itself. His sigh of relief echoed Jack's as they fell into the wormhole, and the sucking power of the 'gate flung their atoms toward home.
"No, Dad!" Jack's terrified shout resounded in his darkened quarters. He bolted upright in his bunk, gulping air as he shivered in the anonymous blackness. The skin of his back twitched as if it felt the wide smack of unforgiving leather. Remembered punishment heated his spine. He squinted in the dark, seeing the figure of his old man looming over him with the strap. The solid metal buckle hadn't touched Jack, but the belt had.
Daniel isn't the only one with an overactive imagination, O'Neill. Scrubbing a trembling hand over his face, Jack swung his legs over the side of the bunk. His feet flinched as they hit the freezing concrete. "Damn," he hissed, reaching for his socks and pulling them on.
Yawning hugely, he stared at the clock. "For cryin' out loud." The middle of the night was no time to play footsies with a cold floor. He shivered at the thought of going back to sleep. If he did, he'd dream of plants reaching out for him to keep him in a place of pure pain. Then, his father would come and…
"Nope," Jack decided, reaching for his gray sweatpants to drag them over his boxers. It was a simple matter to retrieve his boots and shirt. Fully dressed, he left the darkness of his base quarters behind. Let the nightmares stay there if they wanted. He sure as hell wasn't going to. The aliens had had a happy ending. He deserved one too.
Wandering the nearly empty corridors, Jack wondered what he was looking for. I shouldn't be able to dream. My head's still tender from the headache, and the mission wore me out. I'm getting too old for this nonsense. He began to head for the infirmary to wheedle Janet Frasier or whoever into letting him go home. The medical orders he stay on base for a twenty-four-hour period to verify all his "bad noise" symptoms were gone was totally stupid. He'd felt better once the friggin' silent sound stopped.
Wonder if Daniel's awake? Jack hoped not, but he knew his teammate suffered recurring bouts of insomnia. No wonder his actions came off half-baked once in awhile. At times, the scientist was literally working in his sleep
His steps automatically veering away from the infirmary, Jack approached the most isolated office space on the base. He shook his head as he spied the sickly spill of light beneath Daniel's office door.
"Big surprise," he muttered, quietly turning the handle. He paused on the threshold, suddenly not wanting to intrude.
Daniel sat staring at the glowing monitor, a bright green mute on the set testifying to the absence of all sound. Pictures of the terrestrial aliens from PJ2-445 flickered across the screen, casting a white radiance across the grieving lines of the impossibly innocent face.
Mesmerized by the absolute loss aging Daniel's youthful features, Jack wondered what to say for a long moment. He settled for his traditional greeting. "Hey."
Daniel started at the soft noise, turning in his chair so quickly he almost fell out of it. "Wha-what are you doing awake?"
"I could ask you the same question."
A bright flush reddened fair skin. Daniel looked at his feet, a silky fall of sandy hair covering his forehead. "Had my report to write on PJ2-445."
"Uh huh." Jack didn't sound convinced by the pathetic fib as he moved into the room and shut the door behind him. He grabbed a chair, straddled it and braced his arms on the back. "Tell me another bedtime story. I might be able to sleep."
Bloodshot blue eyes blinked tiredly behind glass lenses. Too enervated to fabricate a lie in his numb brain, Daniel leaned back in his seat. A sigh whispered past his lips. "I was wondering how many other cultures we've destroyed."
Jack blinked. He should have anticipated the answer but hadn't. That's because your brain's fried, Jack. A lot of frigging information in a short time. So what else is new? You're describing a typical workday at the SGC. "Funny. I seem to remember we've helped more than we've hurt."
"How do you know?" Behind the wire rims, Daniel's eyes were desperate. "I mean, what happens after we leave?"
Jack shrugged. "They get on with their lives."
"If they have lives to get on with."
The disheartened tone in his companion's voice twisted something inside Jack's chest. He knew better than most how badly this member of his team wanted happily ever afters in their missions, and how the fairy tale ending kept eluding Daniel as if some malignant unseen force wanted the man to keep suffering. Hell, kid. The way things happen to you, I'm beginning to wonder if you were Gengis Kahn in your previous life. What can I say to get through? An unpleasant recollection surfaced. "Do you think the Gamekeeper's people were better off in their artificial world?"
Wincing at the painful memory, Daniel muttered, "No."
"And the Argosians. You think they were meant to live for one-hundred days?"
"Of course not, but..."
"And don't forget the Touched. Maybe they should've stayed on the dark side." The colonel relentlessly held the sad blue gaze, not giving any quarter.
"What about next time, Jack? What happens if I sneeze and someone dies? I don't think I can live with it." Despair cracked Daniel's soft voice. Dark crescents under his eyes testified to a sleepless vigil contemplating the question.
Jack's heart beat a wild drum in his throat. Was Daniel asking to be removed from SG-1? "What are you saying? Do you really want to let the Goa'ulds experiment with people without trying to do something to stop it?"
"No, no I don't."
O'Neill waved his hand in the general direction of the Stargate room. "Can you really forget the faces of those we've helped?"
"The ones I've hurt blot them out."
The soldier couldn't prevent his disbelieving snort from escaping. His gentle friend aided so many at the cost of his own safety and happiness.
Bordered by tears, Daniel's eyes looked almost translucent. "I didn't help Shyla. I hurt her by pretending to love her."
Anger tightened Jack's jaw at the woman's name. She'd caused the young scientist so much pain and heartache. Daniel had repaid her unforgivable actions by helping her through sarcophagus withdrawal. He held her through the wracking convulsions while he'd been strapped down by the impersonal leather restraints during his own hell. I can still see your bruises from the belts. Those leather straps were so thick... No! No. I won't think of Dad. I won't.
"Jack?"
O'Neill jerked his mind away from long ago, but his father's voice still echoed in his head. "Don't be a loser, Jack boy. Never complain. Never explain. Do it or die trying. Only flakes keep trying and failing." The concerned touch of a hand on his arm pulled the soldier back to reality.
"Has your headache returned? Should I get Janet?" Concern roughened Daniel's weary voice.
"I was just thinking about my dad," Jack said then stopped in surprise. What in hell made me admit that?
A tiny, sad smile flickered over Daniel's lips. "I'd say good thoughts, but your face didn't look as if they were." He waited patiently. It would be all right if a confidence was shared, but he wouldn't push the issue.
"They weren't great," Jack confessed. He sighed, trying to scrub the tiredness from his eyes with a shaking hand. Looking at the floor, he amended, "My old man wasn't a bad sort. He just liked to make sure I measured up to his idea of manhood. Sometimes I really hate when I hear myself saying things he'd say in his command voice. I never thought I'd become like him."
"If your dad's anything like you, I'm sure he's a great guy."
"He died a while back." Jack's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Over all, Dad was pretty cool. Strict. Military. Single minded. Not one to look for alternative answers."
"A by-the-book man. I had a stepfather like that." The underlying hollowness in Daniel's words spoke of old suffering.
O'Neill quickly looked up and caught the flicker of unbearable sadness in his friend's gaze before it disappeared. How many of your foster parents hurt you, kid? Way more than those who helped you, I bet. His fingers curled into fists as if he could obliterate all the wrongs done to helpless children.
"Uncle Mark wasn't awful..." Daniel trailed off as he realized what he'd implied about the rest of his foster placements. "I-I mean...it-it wasn't easy having a child who constantly got sick."
In a flash, Jack's mind conjured the image of Daniel's face in the TAB's cave. His friend had been desperately ill but had kept it insulated, covering the agony with a mask of concern and busyness. How many foster parent's beat you because you were sick, Dannyboy?
A wave of shame washed over Jack, trapping breath in his throat. He'd wanted to hit Daniel at one point, let his anger and frustration out on the person he trusted above all others. In fact, if Daniel hadn't fallen, he would have struck him. You know what they say, Jack. You hurt those you care about the most. Nausea twisted O'Neill's stomach as he realized he'd reacted just as his dad would have .
Jack had to clear his throat before he could speak beyond the knot in it. "I'm sorry, Daniel."
The younger man tilted his head. "Don't apologize. I let you down on the mission. I got sidetracked by the plants and helping the TAB's."
A rueful smile curved O'Neill's lips. Neither of them wanted the other to beg pardon. "No, you didn't let me down."
"I did."
"Didn't," Jack shot back and held up a hand to halt the coming refute on his companion's lips. "You cared about the TAB's, Daniel. Hell, you care about everyone we meet. I need you to care. It's part of what makes SG-1 the best. You, Sam and Teal'c always give me your best. Don't ever think otherwise."
Daniel's eyes glistened at the unexpected praise. "No." As he shook his head, the faint light glistened in the long strands of his sandy hair. "You make us what we are, Jack. I didn't know your father, but you do listen to alternative suggestions even if they aren't what you want to hear. You let us explain or complain. We can tell you what we think. If anything, I'm just trying to live up to the example of my team leader."
Warm brown eyes held blue, sharing friendship and respect. Jack looked away before the moment could become even mushier. Maybe, I'm not totally like my dad after all. "Yeah, well, why don't you live up to my example right now? I'm going back to bed. We have our next mission briefing in three hours."
"Three hours?" Daniel groaned, rising from the chair with a wince.
"Four at the most. Get some shut-eye or you'll end up sick."
Daniel's expression fell at the reminder.
Jack lightly tapped his friend's arm. "If you sneeze, I'll make sure you have extra Kleenex."
"What if...?"
"Don't go there, Daniel. The alternative is not being with us to look for Sha're. Is that really what you want?"
"No."
"Then, leave tomorrow to tomorrow. If you sneeze and something bad happens, we'll deal with it. Look on the bright side. Next time you sneeze off world, maybe it'll cure their version of cancer."
Jack's crooked grin was infectious. Daniel felt himself smiling despite his doubts. A witty comeback about smart-ass remarks becoming the substitute for alien diplomacy hovered unspoken. Instead, he settled for a simple, "Thanks, Jack."
O'Neill nodded. "Welcome."
"I---I...achoo!" A huge sneeze robbed Daniel of the rest of his sentence. Both men froze for a moment.
"Bless," Jack said after a long pause.
"Thanks." Daniel nodded with a tired smile. His blue eyes held the conviction the true blessing came from this man's friendship and good example.
"Me too, Danny," Jack agreed, understanding the thoughts behind the expressive eyes. "Me too." He reached over and gave the kid's head a quick noogie.
"Ja-ack...stop."
O'Neill's unrepentant grin widened as he opened the door and gestured for his friend to precede him out of the office. Daniel complied, looking tired beyond rational thought, but the discouraged slump had left his shoulders. He stood in the corridor, waiting.
Jack snapped off the light, plunging the cluttered office into semi-darkness. Only the glow of the muted computer screen lent the space any light. As he saw the image of the smiling alien, the soldier nodded to himself. They'd righted a wrong they'd caused. Harmony was restored to that world…and to his heart.
Stress slowly faded from Jack's spine as he walked beside the younger man down the deserted corridor. Step by step, they made their way toward their bunkrooms. This time, Jack knew he'd sleep without nightmares. Snatching a sideways glance at his friend's peaceful expression, he realized that sometimes Daniel did get to experience the happily ever after part. Jack's heart warmed with a new thought, and he smiled to himself. As long as Daniel's around, I do too.
The End