Work Text:
Title: Echo 5: Promise
Author: Grey
Fandom: SG1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Rating: NC-17
Status: New/Complete
Archive: Yes
Email: [email protected]
Series/Sequel: Echo
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net
Disclaimer: Not mine, but maybe one day.
Summary: Daniel falters on the road to recovery.
Notes: Thanks to XFreak for proofing.
Warning: This story deals with rape and uses explicit language.
Echo 5: Promise
by Grey
[email protected]
Daniel didn't need a battery of tests and Rayburn's grim expression to measure his own depression. Deep shit went off the scale and smeared the pretty diagnostic pictures all to hell.
Sitting quietly, he stared at the closed door and imagined Jack stood on the other side waiting to take him away through the stargate to some remote jungle paradise. The idea of Jack in a black tank top, all sweaty and playful, pleased him no end, but then he saw the Goa'uld marching up suddenly and burning the world down around them. Hathor led the way and shouted out Beloved as she crooked her finger in his direction.
"Dr. Jackson?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you hear the question?"
"I'm sorry. What?" Daniel swiveled back around and wrapped his arms around himself.
"Do you ever have a sense of impending doom?"
"Sometimes."
"How often is sometimes?"
"Not always." Daniel took a deep breath and worried his fingers as Rayburn studied him. "Are we about finished?"
"Just about. You mentioned nightmares."
"Did I?"
"You said you weren't sleeping. Is this a new thing or just since the incident?"
Uneasy, Daniel looked away while he turned his chair toward the door again. "Right after Sha're was kidnapped, it started. Then it got better. Now this happened and it's back."
"This meaning the rape?"
"Yeah." He pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed back his glasses, the steady throb in his forehead getting stronger and more persistent.
"Are you all right?"
"Um, I'm just tired."
"Can you sleep better during the day?"
"No. If I sleep, I dream. If I dream, I can't sleep. It's a vicious cycle."
"I could prescribe something to break that cycle, something that could both help you sleep and elevate your mood."
"No drugs."
"You're a scientist. You're aware of their value."
"And their dangers. I'm taking too many pills now because of the infection. No more drugs." He put his hands on the armrests, ready to push himself up. "So, are we done here?"
Rayburn sat back and put his pen down, his eyes focused on Daniel. "If I say yes, how do you plan to use the rest of the afternoon?"
"I don't know. Walk around, go home. I don't know. Does it matter?"
"What would you normally do if you were working?"
"Be in the lab, go on a mission, save a world or something. What's your point?"
"I think you just made it."
Taking a deep breath, Daniel sagged back into the chair and then leaned forward. "I'm trying. I just don't know what to do with myself. My mind won't leave it alone. I tell myself I should just let it go, but then I turn around and it hits me when I least expect it."
"Like when?"
"In the shower, in the car, just about everywhere. Jack says I need time, and I know that, but it's hard. Everyone's walking around on eggshells."
"And that bothers you?"
"It took awhile to convince them I could take care of myself and now this happened. It's worse than starting all over."
"Don't you think it's because they care about you?"
"I know they care, but they also know what happened."
"How does that make you feel?"
Daniel paused, the ice rushing over his skin, his stomach even tighter. "Ashamed and humiliated."
"What if the rape happened to one of your friends like Captain Carter or Colonel O'Neill? Do you think they would deserve to feel ashamed or humiliated?"
"No. Look, I know it doesn't make sense, but it's how I feel."
"Feelings don't have to make sense."
"Good thing." He looked up and shrugged. "So, what do I do about it?"
"There are a lot of things we could try. You don't want to take drugs, but you should really consider them as an important option. In the meantime, try writing in a journal. Write out your feelings during different times of the day. Find out what the main triggers are for the flashbacks." Rayburn jotted down a notation quickly and then added, "I want you back in here first thing tomorrow. And I strongly recommend the medication, at least for the first few months."
The gallop of panic stomped his heart. "Months?"
"This isn't something that's going to be cured in a few weeks."
"But I need to get back to work before then."
"You'd get back to work sooner if you'd cooperate more with my suggestions. Even so, you need to know that it may take a lot longer to feel well again."
"I understand that." He said it, but he didn't mean it. His world dipped with the reality of it, the permanence of the wound he carried.
"Medication would make your recovery easier. It's been very successful with many of my trauma patients."
"No."
Rayburn nodded reluctantly, his face solemn. "Okay, I'll accept that for now. Have you considered a group session before you return to active duty?"
"Group?"
"It would be a way to make sure everyone had a chance to deal with how they're feeling at the same time. It's a good way to build the support of your team."
Daniel swallowed hard and shook his head. "I can't do that. Not yet."
"Just think about it. In the meantime, have you talked at all with the others?"
"Just enough so they don't worry. Captain Carter and Teal'c have been busy."
"You've been staying with Colonel O'Neill, is that right?"
"Yeah."
"How's that working out?"
"Fine. Why?"
"How does he react when you have the nightmares?"
Daniel recalled the strong arms, the soothing pets, the warm press of Jack's body. "He's fine. He understands about nightmares."
"Does he?"
"Yeah. He lost his son."
"That's right. I remember."
"May I go now?"
"Is there anything you wanted to talk about first?"
"No."
"Then I'll see you in the morning."
Standing up, Daniel left quickly, his desire to get away from those prying eyes and threatening questions almost as strong as his fear of Hathor.
"I need to disinfect the wound. This might sting a little."
As Dr. Frasier applied the cool liquid to his back, Daniel grimaced. "A little? Shit."
"I know. I'm sorry. Almost done." She applied more fluid and then dabbed, the fiery sting whipping over to his spine and down to his belly. "There. I'm going to apply a dressing this time. I'm going to give you an injection, increase the dose of the antibiotic, and prescribe an ointment."
"Why? It's just a scratch."
"Hardly. Besides, this is the bite on your shoulder. You should've mentioned it was bothering you."
Daniel shrugged, the burning sensation bunching along the back of his neck in protest. "To be honest, it didn't hurt that much."
"I don't see how that's possible, but regardless, hold still while I put on the bandage."
As she dressed the injury, he sat quietly, his mind fuzzy and inattentive. "Daniel?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you doing, really?"
"I'm fine."
Dr. Frasier frowned as she put on the last bit of tape and then pulled off the latex gloves before washing her hands. Daniel watched as she filled the needle and stepped closer. She lifted the edge of his gown and swabbed the back of his hip to inject him. He didn't flinch as the spike of heat spread through his skin. Rubbing the spot down, she spoke calmly. "You can get dressed now."
Daniel didn't speak, the quiet somehow a relief. Talking made his head hurt. He just wanted to go home without anymore unwanted chats or advice from helpful people who didn't have a clue about how to behave around him.
"Dr. Rayburn tells me you don't want to take any medication for your depression."
"I'm not depressed."
"Daniel..."
"I'm not, not really. I'm just getting over this fever, that's all. You know how that wrecks a person's natural good humor."
"You're dealing with more than a fever."
"I'll be back to work soon, so things will get better. You'll see. Everyone can stop worrying so much. I'll be fine." He zipped his pants and then pulled his T-shirt on carefully, the shoulder suddenly deciding to spasm. Stifling his groan, he picked up his jacket and met her concerned eyes. "I just need people to leave me alone sometimes, you know?"
"Leave you alone how?"
"Leave me alone by letting me handle this in my own way. I don't need to be blackmailed into seeing Dr. Rayburn."
"Is that how it feels, like blackmail?"
"Yeah." He sat down on the edge of the examining table and played with the buttons on his jacket. "It's like using the SG1 team as a hostage to get me to do something I really don't want to do." As Dr. Frasier touched his arm lightly, he jerked back and swallowed hard. "Don't. Please."
"It's okay." She settled on the stool beside the bed and talked directly, her face pinched with worry. "I know it may feel like extortion, but there's a reason."
"What? It's for my own good? How many times have I heard that one?"
"I don't know. How many?"
"Too many. When my parents died, they made me go to counseling. It didn't help. All it did was teach me that it's a waste of effort, just word games and mindfucks. The only thing that helps is time and keeping busy. As soon I'm well enough, I need to get back to work."
"Daniel, I'm sorry about your parents, but this isn't going away so easily. You're working for the military on a top secret project. There's no way they're going to let you near the gate unless they think you're really ready."
"I will be."
"I don't think so."
"Thanks. Nothing like a vote of confidence." Anger brought him off the table and took him to the door before she stopped him.
"Wait. I didn't mean it like that."
"I know what you meant. You're wrong."
"I hope so." She stuffed her hands in her lab coat pockets and added, "You need the new prescriptions."
"I'll get them tomorrow."
"Today. And, that's an order."
Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes, drawing on lost patience to calm his breathing. "I'll be in the lab."
"You're going home. You need to rest. Now, wait while I get you what you need. It'll only take a minute."
Dr. Frasier walked to the cabinet and got two boxes. "Here. Take the capsules three times a day with food. They might upset your stomach."
"Lovely."
"Put the ointment on twice a day when you change the dressing. If you get a fever or more pain, tell me."
Taking the boxes, he opened the door without bothering to say thanks or fuck you. Once in the hallway, he put on his jacket and stowed the medicines in his pockets. As he headed towards the elevator, Teal'c greeted him. "DanielJackson, it is good to see you."
Not stopping, Daniel nodded and blinked several times to clear his vision. "I'm meeting Jack. I'll talk later."
"O'Neill is with Captain Carter."
"Then I'll meet him in the car."
"Are you not well?"
As the larger man grabbed his arm in passing, Daniel ripped it away, startled. "Don't touch me."
"I am sorry."
"I just need to go home."
"Very well. I will tell Colonel O'Neill."
Flustered, Daniel shook his head. "No, tell him I'll get one of the men to drive me."
"He will not approve of you leaving without him."
Another flash of rage fired his tongue. "He's not my fucking keeper, Teal'c."
Still impassive, but his eyebrow raised, Teal'c answered softly. "Still, he will wish to drive you himself. He fears for your welfare."
Leaning back against the wall, head down, his arms tucked around him, Daniel heaved back the weight of the violence warring inside. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll be in my lab when he's ready."
"I will take you there."
"No. Go tell Jack I need to go home." His voice strained the words, each sound weaker than the one before it as it edged into pleading.
Teal'c stepped closer and studied him, his face stolid. "Yes. I will tell him."
Feeling foolish, Daniel rubbed his face with both hands as his friend left him alone in the hallway. Touching the wall for balance, he headed to the privacy of his own refuge, the lab where he could hide among the artifacts from ancient ruins.
"You'd think the government could at least afford to pay the light bill around this place." Jack flipped on the switch and noted Daniel's startled reaction. His bruised and bloodshot eyes hid behind lenses, but didn't disguise the deep hurt the man carried. "So, what's going on?"
"Nothing. I just needed some quiet."
"You scared Teal'c."
"What?"
"Well, not that most people could tell, but he did twitch his eyebrow higher than usual. Dead giveaway."
Daniel didn't smile, but sighed as he closed the folder in front of him. "I was going to leave on my own and let you take a vacation, but he didn't like that idea much."
"Vacation? You must be kidding. Standing around here listening to Carter getting excited about computer updates and magnetic field enhancement doesn't qualify as a vacation from anything. More like being in detention."
"Which I'm sure you had your share of."
"And you didn't?"
"No, actually I didn't. I never really went to a regular school."
"That explains a lot." Jack teased with a smile and stepped closer. "Come on. Let's get you home. Hate to say this, but you look like hell."
"I feel like hell."
"I thought that was a mythical expression?"
"But myths have their base in cultural and psychological necessities."
"Oh, yeah." He frowned as he pulled his friend to his feet, his uncharacteristic lethargy alarming. "Seriously. Are you okay?"
"I've got a slight infection. Frasier gave me something and I'm feeling a little light-headed."
"Okay, then. Time to make like the wind."
"Make like the wind?"
"Yeah, you know, hit the bricks, skedaddle, get the fuck out of here?"
Smiling for the first time, Daniel shook his head. "That last one works."
"You scientists are a crude bunch of bastards."
"And you guys aren't?"
"Yeah, yeah, blame the military."
"Works for me. Bad influence."
Jack touched his cheek with affection, but lost his grin when Daniel flinched away, his haggard face suddenly drained of color. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I just wasn't expecting it. Let's go. Cameras."
"Sure."
As they walked outside to the corridor, Jack kept his voice low as they headed for the elevators. "You seem a little jumpy."
"I am a little jumpy."
"I know, but I thought seeing Rayburn might help that."
Daniel stopped, his dull eyes suddenly more vibrant. "I don't like that man."
"Well, I figured. You're not supposed to like him. It's part of the definition of being a shrink."
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
"There's just something about him I don't trust."
Jack motioned for them to keep going as the spoke. "You haven't really had enough time to get to know him."
"I go with my gut reactions, Jack. I don't trust him." He pressed the elevator button and the doors slid open. As they got in, he took a deep breath. "I'm just saying, if I have to see someone, I'm going to ask General Hammond if there's anyone else."
"But why? Did he say something?"
"It wasn't so much what he said as how he said it. He's manipulative and controlling. He doesn't listen."
"Or maybe he listens too well."
Daniel turned, his face suddenly flushed. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're fired up for no apparent reason. Did he hit a nerve or something?"
"I'm all nerves. Pick one."
"Good point."
They stayed silent until the doors opened and they made their way past the guards. When they reached the car, Daniel hesitated, his hands balled tightly. Without warning, he slammed his fist into the hood, the metal denting. "Fuck."
"Whoa, Daniel. Stop that." Jack forced himself to keep his distance, to take in the frustration and realize he just needed to stay put and listen.
"You don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"I can't talk to that son of a bitch."
"You're right, I don't understand."
Daniel bit his lower lip, wrapped his arms around his chest, and leaned back against the car. "He doesn't remember me."
"You're losing me faster than Carter. What the hell are you talking about?"
"Rayburn. He either doesn't remember me or he's doing one hell of a mindfuck. When I was a kid, I was in a hospital for awhile."
"Hospital?"
"A mental hospital. It was only for evaluation and treatment for shock after my parents died. Some things I don't remember at all, and some things are crystal. Rayburn is very clear."
"Shit." Jack stood beside him, working hard not to touch him again, wanting more than anything to take him in his arms. "I've read your file, Daniel. It doesn't say anything about that."
"Yeah, it does, if you read between the lines. That doesn't matter. Why hasn't Rayburn mentioned it? He was a lousy doctor then and I'm sure he's no better now."
"Why would he be treating you before? He's military."
"Not during his residency he wasn't."
Mirroring Daniel's position against the car, Jack asked, "So, what do you mean by lousy, exactly?"
"He kept me so drugged I couldn't think straight. But I was a kid, no rights, nobody to look out for me. It wasn't until another doctor, a Dr. Jansen, took over, that I got out of there and moved on. She took me off the medication and let me work at my own pace. I worked my way through it. That's what I'm going to do here."
"We'll ask Hammond for another doctor."
"What if he says no?"
"Then we'll ask Frasier."
"And what if..."
"Enough what ifs. Frasier likes you. We'll get a new doctor."
Biting his lower lip, Daniel raised his head and met his eyes. "Sorry to be such a head case."
Jack stood up and motioned for him to get in. "You call this being a head case?"
"Um, yeah."
"This is nothing."
As they got in the car, Jack started the engine and proceeded to tell Daniel all about his old friend Henderson, an ex-sergeant who woke up one morning convinced wearing fried eggs on his forehead would protect him from the enemy, the moral of the story being we all have problems.
The red drop welled up on the side of his chin, but the pain didn't faze him, didn't even exist. Daniel watched in the mirror, mesmerized as it swelled and dripped down his skin to fall on the white porcelain. He swiped and smeared it across the cool sink and then he brought his fingertip closer, his mind so numb and so very distant.
"Daniel? What the hell are you doing?"
"I cut myself."
"I can see that." Jack stepped closer, quickly removing the razor from his hand before examining the damage. "Just a nick."
"I know." The words ghosted the air between them.
"Why don't you finish shaving later?"
"Why?"
"Because you're a little distracted and I don't want it to be your throat next."
"Or my wrists?"
Jack stopped moving and stepped into Daniel's line of sight. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"I'm not going to hurt myself. You don't have to watch me every second."
"I like watching you. What I don't like seeing is you walking around like some zombie. Now, go sit on the bed and I'll change your dressing."
"I need to finish this first. I'm almost done."
"Daniel..."
"No, go on. I'll be out in a minute."
Reluctantly, Jack turned and left the bathroom, but kept the door open. Daniel shook his head to clear it, but only got dizzy. Picking up the razor again, he scraped it up the edge of his face with precision. The tug at the whiskers itched with the slightest burn as he finished shaving off the few remaining strips of beard. Cleaning the razor, he then leaned forward and rinsed his face with cool water, the usual refreshing quality gone. His body pulled him down, weighted his aching muscles, his bones too heavy.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a towel and dried off before he picked up his glasses. As he put them on, the world focused, its sharper edges unwelcome. He took his time to straighten things around him, the need for order, to have things as they should be, a growing compulsion.
Daniel went to the bedroom and stopped at the doorway, his arms crossed and his body shaking. "I'm sorry, Jack. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You're just tired. Come on over here. I'll bandage you up and we can take a nap or something."
Walking sluggishly to the bed, Daniel sat down and turned his back to Jack. "It's like part of me is switched off."
"What part is that?"
"I don't know. It changes."
"Like one minute you're too pissed to see straight and then the next you can't feel anything but exhausted?"
Daniel turned and met his eyes, his sight blurry. "Exactly."
"I've been there, Daniel. I know what it's like to be too hurt and depressed to think straight. It'll get better. You just have to be patient."
"I'm not very good with patient."
"Tell me about it. But, you're better than I am."
"Usually. Right now, I don't know."
"Just try to relax a little. Let me take a look at this wound, okay?" He stood up as he talked, his hands working to help Daniel remove his T-shirt. "Oh, my god."
The unexpected gasp caught Daniel off guard as he turned to see Jack staring at his back, his face shocked and angry. "It doesn't hurt as bad as it looks, not now anyway."
"Fucking bitch." Jack sat down, both hands to his temples. "Jesus, I hate this."
The horror barely touched him, but he reached out to cup Jack's cheek. "It's okay. Really."
"It's not okay." Tears brimmed as the older man's eyes met his. "I love you, Daniel. I hate seeing what she did to you."
"I know." Turning away, Daniel wrapped himself up in his own arms again, his head down, his eyes closed. A steady hand rubbed his good right shoulder, but he didn't pull away this time. "I can't think about it."
"Then don't." Jack stood back up and without anymore talking, he efficiently treated the bite and replaced the bandage. Another nudge later and Daniel found a clean, white T-shirt handed in his direction. "Put this on."
So much easier to follow orders, he pulled it over his head and then sat quietly. The mattress dipped beside him as Jack drew him into an embrace. Soft kisses feathered his neck and then his friend whispered, "I love you so much, Daniel. It's going to get better. I promise."
Meeting those brown eyes, Daniel found himself screaming inside his head, echoing the promise, but his fears chanting louder and joining the chorus.
The end