Fic: The Waiting Room
Oct. 25th, 2003 07:30 pmFANDOM: Stargate SG-1
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Angst, hurt/comfort, drama
SUMMARY: A night spent in a hospital waiting room.
SPOILERS: None.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For Atticus, who mailed me a fully edited manuscript when I asked for feedback... and then did it again for my next story, too. ;-)
THE WAITING ROOM
The kids were fighting again. Daniel, slumped in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs with his arms tight around his chest, turned his head a little to watch them as they bickered. Their mother, a thin woman with straggly bleach-blonde hair and a smoker's deep cough, smacked the nearest one across the back of the head with her magazine and returned to her reading without waiting to see if the fight had stopped.
Daniel shifted a bit and stared at the ceiling. There was a water stain on the far side of the room which trailed down the wall and disappeared behind a poster of a John Singer Sargent painting framed in Plexiglass. He'd been staring at the poster and the water stain for a while now. If he squinted just right, it almost looked like Senator Kinsey in one of his more apoplectic moods.
He checked his watch. It was four-thirty AM, about time for another call to the mountain to reassure Sam and Teal'c.
He levered himself out of the molded plastic seat and walked across the waiting room to the alcove housing the payphones and a few vending machines. He picked up the receiver, grimacing at the stickiness of the handle, and dialed. The phone was answered on the first ring.
"Daniel?"
Despite himself, Daniel had to smile a little. "How'd you guess?"
Sam snorted. "Like anyone else would call this late. Have you heard anything?"
Daniel rubbed his forehead and leaned against the phone booth, the hard edge of the plastic partition digging into his shoulder. "No. I guess he's still in surgery."
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine."
"Right. Have you gotten any sleep yet?"
"No." Daniel cast a dark look at the waiting room. "There are some kids here. They keep fighting over some video game or something, and then their mother yells at them and they go back to fighting."
"Sounds entertaining."
"Riveting. I could charge admission. I've been trying to give them a Teal'c stare but I don't think I have it down yet."
Sam laughed. "I think you're about seventy years too young for that. Speaking of Teal'c, he wants to talk to you."
"Sure. Put him on."
There was a rustling noise, and then Teal'c's reassuring bass rumbled across the phone line. "Daniel Jackson."
"Hey, Teal'c."
"Is there news?"
"Not yet. It's only been a couple of hours, though."
"It has been five," Teal'c said precisely. "They have told you nothing?"
Daniel rubbed his forehead again. His head still ached from where he'd smacked it against the window of his car, and the incessant squabbling of the children in the waiting room was only making it worse. "I don't think they know anything yet."
"That is unacceptable. This is a most unfortunate situation, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said plaintively, as if complaining about the fairness of it would make a difference.
Daniel smiled a little. "Yeah."
"What is your condition, Daniel Jackson?"
"I'm fine."
"Indeed." Daniel blinked. It was amazing how much disbelief Teal'c could pack into that one word. "You will acquire sustenance now, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel sighed. Most people thought Jack was a terrible mother hen, but he was nothing compared to Teal'c. Sure, Jack complained and nagged and tried to give orders, but there was something about Teal'c's imperious assumption that you would do what he wanted that was just so much worse.
"I'll get something later, Teal'c. I don't want to leave in case they get any news on Jack."
"Is it not possible to inform someone of your whereabouts? You will not serve anyone if you become ill yourself."
"All right." He was too tired to argue anyway. "I'll call you if I hear anything."
"Very well. Our thoughts are with you."
"I know. Thanks."
The phone went dead in his hand, and he stood there for a moment just holding it before leaning over and placing it gently on the hook. He didn't envy Teal'c and Sam at all. Sam was stuck on base because of an interesting rash she'd picked up on their last mission, and Teal'c still wasn't allowed out of the mountain on his own.
Daniel didn't mind being alone, really. While it would have been therapeutic to watch Teal'c cow the obnoxious children in the waiting room into silent submission, he didn't think he'd be able to deal with another person at the moment. As always, Daniel preferred to deal with things on his own.
He wandered back into the waiting room, casting a hopeful glance in the direction of the nurse's station. The nurse on duty there caught his eye and shook her head.
"No news yet, Mister Jackson."
"Okay. I'm going to go get something to eat."
She nodded. "I'll let you know if I hear anything."
Unlike the waiting room, the hospital cafeteria was mostly deserted. Daniel chose a pre-made sandwich without looking at the label, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at one of the tables.
They'd all been tired after the last mission. It hadn't been a hard mission in and of itself, and besides Sam's rash nothing untoward had happened. It was just one more mission at the tail end of a long string of missions and even Teal'c had been looking a little worn down. Janet had ordered them all to take time off and had even gone so far as to threaten to tie Daniel down in the infirmary if she found out he was working. For once, he hadn't been inclined to argue with her. All he wanted to do was get a lot of sleep and just not have to think about anything for a while.
Jack had been in high spirits as soon as he heard about the down time. Daniel had no idea if he'd been intending to go to the cabin or catch a game on TV or what; he hadn't really been paying attention to Jack's ramblings in the locker room as they'd gotten dressed for the world outside of the mountain. They'd walked together to the parking lot and Daniel had followed Jack's truck through the gate.
Maybe it was because they'd been tired. Jack had proved time and again that he was a good driver, and he'd been raised in the snow. Daniel had been driving along, blinking blearily at Jack's tail lights, and it had taken him a moment to react when the two dim red squares had started weaving about on the road. Daniel had slammed on the brakes, twisting the wheel hard to avoid running into Jack and destroying whatever control he'd regained over his truck. The world had spun, melting into a swirling white of snowbanks and black of trees and then settled down with a jarring thump as Daniel's car came to rest neatly up against a large tree on the wrong side of the road.
It had taken him a moment to realize what happened, and then he pushed his door open against the weight of the snow and staggered out onto the road. There had been no sign of Jack's truck, nothing but an ominous set of tire tracks leading waveringly over the embankment on the opposite side of the road.
He'd taken off running then, to the side of the road and down the hill. Jack's truck had been on its side at the bottom, its top facing Daniel, and by the time he reached it he'd picked up enough momentum that he'd had to throw himself flat in the snow to avoid running headlong into it. The windows had been smashed, dipping crazily in spiderwebbed iciness.
"Jack?"
There had been no answer. Jack was crumpled up against the driver's side window, his head propped up at an awkward angle by the seat belt, one hand resting gently on his thigh and the other curled near his face. There had been blood. That Daniel remembered very clearly.
A part of his brain had registered that the car was still running, the one working headlight illuminating an irregular patch of brush and saplings. He'd smelled gas and panicked, hauling himself up the side of the truck until he could lean in and reach the key, cold fingers fumbling at it before he could turn it off. The sudden silence had been deafening. He hadn't realized how much noise the internal combustion engine really made until that moment.
He'd called Jack's name again, without any real hope of an answer. A bit more wriggling and he'd been able to reach Jack's neck and feel a pulse, faint but there, reassuring against his rapidly numbing fingertips.
After that, things got a little blurry.
Daniel finished the last bite of his sandwich and gazed dispassionately around the cafeteria, belatedly realizing he still had no idea what kind of sandwich it had been. He sighed. Now that he was out of the waiting room, he was strangely reluctant to go back to it. It was as if the cafeteria existed in a bubble separate from the rest of the world. Time would pass, people would get on with their lives, and Daniel would still be sitting in an abandoned nighttime shell of squeaky linoleum and disinfected counters. Maybe Jack would recover, and go back to the mountain in a few days and bitch at Janet until she signed him off for active duty. He'd go to briefings, tease Teal'c, annoy Sam, give the General ulcers. Maybe he'd be beamed up by Thor again, just in time to save the known universe. He would bounce around the galaxy with his schoolboy's enthusiasm until the Goa'uld were defeated or his knees finally gave, and spend his retirement playing eccentric grandfather to Cassie's kids.
Or maybe he would die of his injuries instead, slowly slip away from the frantically barked orders of the doctors, fading away into the long drawn out beep of a heart monitor. The nurse would call the mountain and give them the bad news. The kids in the waiting room would get quiet for a moment, and then go back to their argument as the pain of another's passing slipped from importance. There would be a funeral, and a memorial service. Eulogies would be given and a flag would be folded to the lonely lament of Taps. Jack's obituary would appear in the newspaper, true for once, because he had died outside the mountain and away from the secrecy of the Stargate. Time would pass, the way time always passed, and after a while the ache of Jack's loss would dull. Sam would be promoted, Teal'c would go back to Chulak. Maybe the Goa'uld would attack, and maybe they wouldn't. Maybe Thor would find a new champion, and maybe he would move on to another patch of space. Through it all Daniel would sit, obliviously drinking cup after cup of gritty coffee, forever wondering what kind of sandwich he'd had for dinner.
There was a clatter from the kitchen and Daniel started, jolted out of his reverie. The kitchen worker gave him a cursory glance and went back to banging pots, probably getting ready for the morning shift to start. Daniel sighed and downed the last of his coffee, getting up slowly from the table. A part of him wondered if he'd leave the cafeteria and find that years had passed while he'd been sitting there, a modern-day Rip Van Winkle taken out of the loop by a cosmically altered sandwich and spiked coffee.
The cafeteria doors swung open, and he stepped out into the narrow corridor leading to the stairs. There was an elevator to one side, and after a moment's internal debate he took it, mildly surprised to find it already on his floor. He was too tired for stairs.
A glance in the direction of the nurse's station got him a negative headshake, so he headed back to his chair. The children were still there, their strident voices taking on the whiny edge of overtired petulance. The smaller one sat down abruptly and began to wail.
Daniel leaned forward. "If you're quiet, I'll tell you a story," he offered.
The older boy gave him an incredulous look, and the younger one took the opportunity to hit his brother and snatch back the coveted game. Daniel slumped back in his chair and sighed. Children on Abydos had been a lot easier to entertain.
The shadow of the doctor fell across the floor, leading like a pointer to the water stain on the far wall. Daniel looked up.
"I'm sorry," the man said, and Daniel spared a moment to wonder why doctors came out to give bad news clad in bloody scrubs. As if the trauma of losing a loved one wasn't enough, you had to see evidence of how horribly it had gone wrong splashed like a Jackson Pollock special across the doctor's clothing.
"We did everything we could," the doctor continued. "There was just too much damage."
The woman's face crumpled and her hands tightened on her magazine. The older boy began to cry, understanding for the first time how the whole world could shift in an instant. The younger boy looked back and forth between his mother and the doctor, uncomprehending, not resisting when his mother picked him up and crushed him close. Daniel could hear him asking in a muffled voice what was wrong.
The nurse hurried past him and knelt down beside the woman, and the doctor turned and disappeared back into the depths of the hospital. Daniel got up and went over to the alcove with the vending machines.
Death. Sometimes it seemed it was everywhere he turned, a great black crushing weight, surrounding, suffocating, smothering...
He grabbed the phone and dialed the mountain. Sam picked up on the first ring.
"Any news?"
"No. Sorry."
"Is something wrong?" Sam's voice was hesitant.
"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. No sense in freaking Sam out too. He could handle this. Jack was not going to die. "Is Teal'c there?"
"He went on a coffee run for me. I think he needed something to do."
Daniel forced some levity into his voice. "Janet's going to kill you."
"What she don't know won't hurt me," Sam said briskly. "Now what's wrong?"
Damn. "It's nothing. I just... one of the other people in the waiting room got some bad news. I'm trying to give them a little privacy."
"Oh." There was a wealth of understanding in Sam's voice. "I'm sure the Colonel will be fine, Daniel," she offered tentatively.
"I know he will," Daniel said, a little more sharply than he'd intended.
There was a brief pause. "Janet gets off in a few hours. If they haven't told you anything by then, I bet she could come down and scare them."
Daniel sighed. "It's okay, Sam."
"She will anyway, you know."
Despite himself, Daniel smiled a little. "I know." Jack found Janet's power-mongering annoying. Daniel himself found it comforting, if unnecessary.
"Mental hug, Daniel," Sam said softly.
Daniel swallowed. "Thanks. You too."
"Should I pass one on to Teal'c when he gets back?" Sam asked mischievously.
Daniel snorted. "Well, that's your business, of course," he teased. She laughed and hung up.
He poked his head tentatively around the corner. The waiting room was empty now except for the video game the boys had been fighting over earlier. It lay forlornly in the middle of the room, face down. Daniel picked it up and laid it gently on one of the empty chairs. He doubted anyone would come back for it, but there was no sense in letting it get stepped on.
He sat down in his chair and slouched until he could rest the back of his head comfortably against the wall, and let his mind go blank.
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Blearily he opened his eyes and tried to sit up, realizing after a moment's disoriented fumbling that he was neither at home in bed nor slumped across the top of his desk at the mountain. His neck hurt in a very specific way which told him he'd been sleeping with it at an awkward angle, and it felt like the arm of the waiting room chair was permanently imbedded in his side.
He blinked, slowly bringing the face in front of him into focus.
"Janet?"
She smiled and rubbed his arm. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Daniel."
He groaned and scrubbed his face with both hands. "Jack?"
Her hand tightened a little on his arm. "He'll be fine, Daniel. He got out of surgery about a half an hour ago. I've already talked to his doctor. He'll have to take it easy for a while, and he's got a lot of PT in his future, but he should make a full recovery."
"Jack never takes it easy," Daniel said, pushing himself upright in the chair. "What time is it?"
"Eight thirty," Janet said, tugging at his arm until he got fuzzily to his feet. "I'm taking you home now. You're under strict doctor's orders to sleep until you can't sleep any more."
"Can I see Jack first?"
"No, he's in recovery. You can come by later today if you feel up to it." She peered closely at his face. "How are you feeling?"
Daniel had to consider that for a moment. "Fine. Must have been the magic sandwich."
He heard Janet's chuckle, low and teasing. "I don't think you should talk until you've gotten some sleep, Daniel. I might not let you forget what you say."
Daniel decided he was too tired to think about that much. "I can't remember where I left my car."
"You came in the ambulance, Daniel," Janet said patiently. "I'm giving you a ride home. If you're good I'll stop for breakfast on the way."
"Okay."
At the mountain, General Hammond finished his second cup of coffee for the day and glared at a budgetary report. Sam scratched absently at her rash and was rebuked by Teal'c, who advocated the healing power of meditation and threatened to make her wear mittens. Somewhere in Colorado Springs, a mother explained death to her children.
Safe in his hospital bed, Jack slept.
THE END
RATING: PG-13
CATEGORY: Angst, hurt/comfort, drama
SUMMARY: A night spent in a hospital waiting room.
SPOILERS: None.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For Atticus, who mailed me a fully edited manuscript when I asked for feedback... and then did it again for my next story, too. ;-)
THE WAITING ROOM
The kids were fighting again. Daniel, slumped in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs with his arms tight around his chest, turned his head a little to watch them as they bickered. Their mother, a thin woman with straggly bleach-blonde hair and a smoker's deep cough, smacked the nearest one across the back of the head with her magazine and returned to her reading without waiting to see if the fight had stopped.
Daniel shifted a bit and stared at the ceiling. There was a water stain on the far side of the room which trailed down the wall and disappeared behind a poster of a John Singer Sargent painting framed in Plexiglass. He'd been staring at the poster and the water stain for a while now. If he squinted just right, it almost looked like Senator Kinsey in one of his more apoplectic moods.
He checked his watch. It was four-thirty AM, about time for another call to the mountain to reassure Sam and Teal'c.
He levered himself out of the molded plastic seat and walked across the waiting room to the alcove housing the payphones and a few vending machines. He picked up the receiver, grimacing at the stickiness of the handle, and dialed. The phone was answered on the first ring.
"Daniel?"
Despite himself, Daniel had to smile a little. "How'd you guess?"
Sam snorted. "Like anyone else would call this late. Have you heard anything?"
Daniel rubbed his forehead and leaned against the phone booth, the hard edge of the plastic partition digging into his shoulder. "No. I guess he's still in surgery."
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine."
"Right. Have you gotten any sleep yet?"
"No." Daniel cast a dark look at the waiting room. "There are some kids here. They keep fighting over some video game or something, and then their mother yells at them and they go back to fighting."
"Sounds entertaining."
"Riveting. I could charge admission. I've been trying to give them a Teal'c stare but I don't think I have it down yet."
Sam laughed. "I think you're about seventy years too young for that. Speaking of Teal'c, he wants to talk to you."
"Sure. Put him on."
There was a rustling noise, and then Teal'c's reassuring bass rumbled across the phone line. "Daniel Jackson."
"Hey, Teal'c."
"Is there news?"
"Not yet. It's only been a couple of hours, though."
"It has been five," Teal'c said precisely. "They have told you nothing?"
Daniel rubbed his forehead again. His head still ached from where he'd smacked it against the window of his car, and the incessant squabbling of the children in the waiting room was only making it worse. "I don't think they know anything yet."
"That is unacceptable. This is a most unfortunate situation, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said plaintively, as if complaining about the fairness of it would make a difference.
Daniel smiled a little. "Yeah."
"What is your condition, Daniel Jackson?"
"I'm fine."
"Indeed." Daniel blinked. It was amazing how much disbelief Teal'c could pack into that one word. "You will acquire sustenance now, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel sighed. Most people thought Jack was a terrible mother hen, but he was nothing compared to Teal'c. Sure, Jack complained and nagged and tried to give orders, but there was something about Teal'c's imperious assumption that you would do what he wanted that was just so much worse.
"I'll get something later, Teal'c. I don't want to leave in case they get any news on Jack."
"Is it not possible to inform someone of your whereabouts? You will not serve anyone if you become ill yourself."
"All right." He was too tired to argue anyway. "I'll call you if I hear anything."
"Very well. Our thoughts are with you."
"I know. Thanks."
The phone went dead in his hand, and he stood there for a moment just holding it before leaning over and placing it gently on the hook. He didn't envy Teal'c and Sam at all. Sam was stuck on base because of an interesting rash she'd picked up on their last mission, and Teal'c still wasn't allowed out of the mountain on his own.
Daniel didn't mind being alone, really. While it would have been therapeutic to watch Teal'c cow the obnoxious children in the waiting room into silent submission, he didn't think he'd be able to deal with another person at the moment. As always, Daniel preferred to deal with things on his own.
He wandered back into the waiting room, casting a hopeful glance in the direction of the nurse's station. The nurse on duty there caught his eye and shook her head.
"No news yet, Mister Jackson."
"Okay. I'm going to go get something to eat."
She nodded. "I'll let you know if I hear anything."
Unlike the waiting room, the hospital cafeteria was mostly deserted. Daniel chose a pre-made sandwich without looking at the label, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at one of the tables.
They'd all been tired after the last mission. It hadn't been a hard mission in and of itself, and besides Sam's rash nothing untoward had happened. It was just one more mission at the tail end of a long string of missions and even Teal'c had been looking a little worn down. Janet had ordered them all to take time off and had even gone so far as to threaten to tie Daniel down in the infirmary if she found out he was working. For once, he hadn't been inclined to argue with her. All he wanted to do was get a lot of sleep and just not have to think about anything for a while.
Jack had been in high spirits as soon as he heard about the down time. Daniel had no idea if he'd been intending to go to the cabin or catch a game on TV or what; he hadn't really been paying attention to Jack's ramblings in the locker room as they'd gotten dressed for the world outside of the mountain. They'd walked together to the parking lot and Daniel had followed Jack's truck through the gate.
Maybe it was because they'd been tired. Jack had proved time and again that he was a good driver, and he'd been raised in the snow. Daniel had been driving along, blinking blearily at Jack's tail lights, and it had taken him a moment to react when the two dim red squares had started weaving about on the road. Daniel had slammed on the brakes, twisting the wheel hard to avoid running into Jack and destroying whatever control he'd regained over his truck. The world had spun, melting into a swirling white of snowbanks and black of trees and then settled down with a jarring thump as Daniel's car came to rest neatly up against a large tree on the wrong side of the road.
It had taken him a moment to realize what happened, and then he pushed his door open against the weight of the snow and staggered out onto the road. There had been no sign of Jack's truck, nothing but an ominous set of tire tracks leading waveringly over the embankment on the opposite side of the road.
He'd taken off running then, to the side of the road and down the hill. Jack's truck had been on its side at the bottom, its top facing Daniel, and by the time he reached it he'd picked up enough momentum that he'd had to throw himself flat in the snow to avoid running headlong into it. The windows had been smashed, dipping crazily in spiderwebbed iciness.
"Jack?"
There had been no answer. Jack was crumpled up against the driver's side window, his head propped up at an awkward angle by the seat belt, one hand resting gently on his thigh and the other curled near his face. There had been blood. That Daniel remembered very clearly.
A part of his brain had registered that the car was still running, the one working headlight illuminating an irregular patch of brush and saplings. He'd smelled gas and panicked, hauling himself up the side of the truck until he could lean in and reach the key, cold fingers fumbling at it before he could turn it off. The sudden silence had been deafening. He hadn't realized how much noise the internal combustion engine really made until that moment.
He'd called Jack's name again, without any real hope of an answer. A bit more wriggling and he'd been able to reach Jack's neck and feel a pulse, faint but there, reassuring against his rapidly numbing fingertips.
After that, things got a little blurry.
Daniel finished the last bite of his sandwich and gazed dispassionately around the cafeteria, belatedly realizing he still had no idea what kind of sandwich it had been. He sighed. Now that he was out of the waiting room, he was strangely reluctant to go back to it. It was as if the cafeteria existed in a bubble separate from the rest of the world. Time would pass, people would get on with their lives, and Daniel would still be sitting in an abandoned nighttime shell of squeaky linoleum and disinfected counters. Maybe Jack would recover, and go back to the mountain in a few days and bitch at Janet until she signed him off for active duty. He'd go to briefings, tease Teal'c, annoy Sam, give the General ulcers. Maybe he'd be beamed up by Thor again, just in time to save the known universe. He would bounce around the galaxy with his schoolboy's enthusiasm until the Goa'uld were defeated or his knees finally gave, and spend his retirement playing eccentric grandfather to Cassie's kids.
Or maybe he would die of his injuries instead, slowly slip away from the frantically barked orders of the doctors, fading away into the long drawn out beep of a heart monitor. The nurse would call the mountain and give them the bad news. The kids in the waiting room would get quiet for a moment, and then go back to their argument as the pain of another's passing slipped from importance. There would be a funeral, and a memorial service. Eulogies would be given and a flag would be folded to the lonely lament of Taps. Jack's obituary would appear in the newspaper, true for once, because he had died outside the mountain and away from the secrecy of the Stargate. Time would pass, the way time always passed, and after a while the ache of Jack's loss would dull. Sam would be promoted, Teal'c would go back to Chulak. Maybe the Goa'uld would attack, and maybe they wouldn't. Maybe Thor would find a new champion, and maybe he would move on to another patch of space. Through it all Daniel would sit, obliviously drinking cup after cup of gritty coffee, forever wondering what kind of sandwich he'd had for dinner.
There was a clatter from the kitchen and Daniel started, jolted out of his reverie. The kitchen worker gave him a cursory glance and went back to banging pots, probably getting ready for the morning shift to start. Daniel sighed and downed the last of his coffee, getting up slowly from the table. A part of him wondered if he'd leave the cafeteria and find that years had passed while he'd been sitting there, a modern-day Rip Van Winkle taken out of the loop by a cosmically altered sandwich and spiked coffee.
The cafeteria doors swung open, and he stepped out into the narrow corridor leading to the stairs. There was an elevator to one side, and after a moment's internal debate he took it, mildly surprised to find it already on his floor. He was too tired for stairs.
A glance in the direction of the nurse's station got him a negative headshake, so he headed back to his chair. The children were still there, their strident voices taking on the whiny edge of overtired petulance. The smaller one sat down abruptly and began to wail.
Daniel leaned forward. "If you're quiet, I'll tell you a story," he offered.
The older boy gave him an incredulous look, and the younger one took the opportunity to hit his brother and snatch back the coveted game. Daniel slumped back in his chair and sighed. Children on Abydos had been a lot easier to entertain.
The shadow of the doctor fell across the floor, leading like a pointer to the water stain on the far wall. Daniel looked up.
"I'm sorry," the man said, and Daniel spared a moment to wonder why doctors came out to give bad news clad in bloody scrubs. As if the trauma of losing a loved one wasn't enough, you had to see evidence of how horribly it had gone wrong splashed like a Jackson Pollock special across the doctor's clothing.
"We did everything we could," the doctor continued. "There was just too much damage."
The woman's face crumpled and her hands tightened on her magazine. The older boy began to cry, understanding for the first time how the whole world could shift in an instant. The younger boy looked back and forth between his mother and the doctor, uncomprehending, not resisting when his mother picked him up and crushed him close. Daniel could hear him asking in a muffled voice what was wrong.
The nurse hurried past him and knelt down beside the woman, and the doctor turned and disappeared back into the depths of the hospital. Daniel got up and went over to the alcove with the vending machines.
Death. Sometimes it seemed it was everywhere he turned, a great black crushing weight, surrounding, suffocating, smothering...
He grabbed the phone and dialed the mountain. Sam picked up on the first ring.
"Any news?"
"No. Sorry."
"Is something wrong?" Sam's voice was hesitant.
"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. No sense in freaking Sam out too. He could handle this. Jack was not going to die. "Is Teal'c there?"
"He went on a coffee run for me. I think he needed something to do."
Daniel forced some levity into his voice. "Janet's going to kill you."
"What she don't know won't hurt me," Sam said briskly. "Now what's wrong?"
Damn. "It's nothing. I just... one of the other people in the waiting room got some bad news. I'm trying to give them a little privacy."
"Oh." There was a wealth of understanding in Sam's voice. "I'm sure the Colonel will be fine, Daniel," she offered tentatively.
"I know he will," Daniel said, a little more sharply than he'd intended.
There was a brief pause. "Janet gets off in a few hours. If they haven't told you anything by then, I bet she could come down and scare them."
Daniel sighed. "It's okay, Sam."
"She will anyway, you know."
Despite himself, Daniel smiled a little. "I know." Jack found Janet's power-mongering annoying. Daniel himself found it comforting, if unnecessary.
"Mental hug, Daniel," Sam said softly.
Daniel swallowed. "Thanks. You too."
"Should I pass one on to Teal'c when he gets back?" Sam asked mischievously.
Daniel snorted. "Well, that's your business, of course," he teased. She laughed and hung up.
He poked his head tentatively around the corner. The waiting room was empty now except for the video game the boys had been fighting over earlier. It lay forlornly in the middle of the room, face down. Daniel picked it up and laid it gently on one of the empty chairs. He doubted anyone would come back for it, but there was no sense in letting it get stepped on.
He sat down in his chair and slouched until he could rest the back of his head comfortably against the wall, and let his mind go blank.
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Blearily he opened his eyes and tried to sit up, realizing after a moment's disoriented fumbling that he was neither at home in bed nor slumped across the top of his desk at the mountain. His neck hurt in a very specific way which told him he'd been sleeping with it at an awkward angle, and it felt like the arm of the waiting room chair was permanently imbedded in his side.
He blinked, slowly bringing the face in front of him into focus.
"Janet?"
She smiled and rubbed his arm. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Daniel."
He groaned and scrubbed his face with both hands. "Jack?"
Her hand tightened a little on his arm. "He'll be fine, Daniel. He got out of surgery about a half an hour ago. I've already talked to his doctor. He'll have to take it easy for a while, and he's got a lot of PT in his future, but he should make a full recovery."
"Jack never takes it easy," Daniel said, pushing himself upright in the chair. "What time is it?"
"Eight thirty," Janet said, tugging at his arm until he got fuzzily to his feet. "I'm taking you home now. You're under strict doctor's orders to sleep until you can't sleep any more."
"Can I see Jack first?"
"No, he's in recovery. You can come by later today if you feel up to it." She peered closely at his face. "How are you feeling?"
Daniel had to consider that for a moment. "Fine. Must have been the magic sandwich."
He heard Janet's chuckle, low and teasing. "I don't think you should talk until you've gotten some sleep, Daniel. I might not let you forget what you say."
Daniel decided he was too tired to think about that much. "I can't remember where I left my car."
"You came in the ambulance, Daniel," Janet said patiently. "I'm giving you a ride home. If you're good I'll stop for breakfast on the way."
"Okay."
At the mountain, General Hammond finished his second cup of coffee for the day and glared at a budgetary report. Sam scratched absently at her rash and was rebuked by Teal'c, who advocated the healing power of meditation and threatened to make her wear mittens. Somewhere in Colorado Springs, a mother explained death to her children.
Safe in his hospital bed, Jack slept.
THE END