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Fades to Black: Stargate Videos by Darcy |
Temporary
Insanity by
iiiionly
“Jack?” It’s a tremendous effort just to keep his eyes open now. “How much longer?” I spoon some more ice chips out of the styrofoam cup on the tray table. He opens his mouth like a baby bird and I slide the spoon in. Over the last hour and a half we’ve pretty much perfected this move. Frasier says there’s some kind of amnesic shock thing going on. Basically, Daniel hasn’t yet realized what’s happened. For the moment he is only five . . . or six . . . or seven . . . whatever. It’s a little difficult to determine. Standing, he barely reaches mid-thigh on me, which means he’s about as tall as Teal’c’s knees. Yeah, tomorrow this will all be over . . . right. NOT. This is the thanks he gets for successfully wrapping yet another damn planet into the Protected Planets treaty? I was ready, willing, and armed to kill when I realized what they’d done to him. Only Thor’s intervention, and the fact that I had my arms full of our new bundle of joy, kept me from murdering the sonuvabitch who brought him out to us. Now I slide onto the bed, gather up all his lines and leads and wires
and pick him up, rearranging all his leads and lines and wires so we
don’t get tangled in them. The clock’s ticking down the twelve hours Doc decreed, while the
machines wired to Daniel’s temperature, respiration, heartbeat,
and brain waves variously beep, hum, and sigh. Somewhere along the way here, it occurred to me the Asgard have belatedly realized their mistake in pegging me as the next quantum leap in our evolutionary track. Because ever since Daniel agreed to see to the petty needs of the Goa’uld trying to screw us out of our Stargate, the Asgard have been stopping by every couple of months to ask if they can borrow him to help out with negotiations - all over the galaxy - hell, the known universe. If they hadn’t figured that out, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now. On one hand, Dr. Jackson’s reputation as a negotiator has upped the Goa’uld price on his head; on the other, it’s also made us a bunch of new friends and allies. If you ask me, though no one is, it’s the Asgard sneaky way of evening the odds against the Goa’uld. Theoretically they can’t assist any of the planets under their ‘protection’ to advance technologically. So they’re hosting these little soiree’s where they get Daniel to come and negotiate for them, and voila’, we gain a new ally, sometimes even new technology, and whatever planet they’ve just introduced us to gets folded into the Protected Planets treaty because Daniel’s damn good at finding the Gould’s Achilles heel. Except, something went wrong this time; very, very wrong. Well, from our perspective at least. What still has my blood boiling is the Asgard persist in calling us young and irresponsible? For cryin’ out loud, without permission, and I guarantee you against his will, the damn Tepid Torpids stole Daniel’s adulthood, stripping away more than thirty years of living. And Thor wanted us to smile politely and say thank you? I’m sure I was gaping like a fish. I’m pretty certain some unpleasant things about Thor’s heritage came out of my mouth. And I vaguely remember Carter trying to spin it as I snatched one of those space blanket thingies out of her pack to wrap Daniel in. Teal’c was dialing the gate and me and the kid were through before she was done making nice. A little of what Thor told us registered; the downsizing affected only his body, not his brain. So inside that five, or six, or seven-year-old body is the mind of a thirty-four-year-old. I’m relatively certain he told us there was a reason for this,
but at the moment, it escapes me. I’m positive he told Carter,
unlike some mistakes, this one isn’t reversible. And as the CO of this outfit it probably falls to me to be the one to share the . . . awakening? Realization? Not that it matters, I have no plans to be elsewhere until Daniel wakes up again and we’ve done the ‘what the hell happened’ thing. It wouldn’t surprise me if Carter and Teal’c are back by then, too. Oh, yeah, the other thing I remember is the Asgard offered to clone an adult Daniel from this Daniel’s DNA and move this Daniel’s consciousness back into an adult body. When Carter asked, in a rather strangled tone, what would happen to this Daniel, Thor just looked at her in his very Asgardish way and raised a non-existent eyebrow. When Carter refused to back down, he finally extemporized, “We would see that he was taken care of.” Very little intimidates Carter - besides kitchen appliances – so of course she immediately demanded, “How?” That was the last I heard. I didn’t wait for the answer and I didn’t bother to ask when she came through behind us. I really don’t want to know. I wasn’t thinking straight and didn’t radio ahead, so all
hell broke loose when we stepped out on the Gate ramp in the SGC. Then it probably took two hours, but she ran every test she could think of and confirmed that, yes, Dr. Daniel Jackson is still Dr. Daniel Jackson, minus a few years, plus a new appendix. I guess we’re pretty jaded around here, nothing much gets our knickers in a twist anymore, but this rated an off-the-charts upheaval. Carter spent the first six hours we were back trying every ally she could think of who might have some insight into what was done and how to reverse it. No luck. The Nox are mystified, though tickled to death with this new down-sized version of Daniel. The Tollan are as ridiculously inflexible as ever, ‘even if we did possess such technology, we would be unable to allocate resources to this problem, we are in the middle of our own crisis’. The Tollan are always in a crisis. The Argosian’s gladly gave us the remains of that machine thingy, but that involves nanocytes and having experienced it myself, I’m not eager to go down that road. Carter says Tupeolo’s people are still barely beyond the Bronze Age in their development, so no help from that quarter. I know there are others she’s contacted, she gave me the run down every couple of hours, but they’re all blurring together now. Bottom line, we’ve got a downsized Daniel until we can figure out how to fix him ourselves. The small body in my arms shudders suddenly. “Doc, is a few minutes more really gonna make a difference? Can’t
we let him sleep now?” She lifts up the blankets so I can slide the small, pliant body into bed, again rearranging all the leads and lines and wires. “I’m going to put a sedative into your IV so you sleep really
well, okay?” He could care less about how he’s going to sleep, or why. He
just wants to sleep and know I’ll be there when he wakes up. I’ve had it up to my eyeballs. “If the Turpentine’s refuse to fix this mess they’ve made there’s no way we’re going to enter into any alliance with them. Permission to go back to him, sir.” I am so outta here. “Some shine,” I mutter. The General really has no choice; he has to take the standard line. “And no, Jack, you do not have permission to leave until we’ve
come to some kind of resolution here.” Carter too? Cripes. “What? Technology, Carter?” I kick her under the table but she ignores me. “They’ve refined naquada technology to the point where they are able to produce several different kinds of clean energy from it. I don’t think we can afford to turn down an alliance, sir. And frankly, I think Daniel will tell you the same thing . . . especially if it’s true they left all his memories intact.” She’s right, he probably will, but I’m not going down without a fight. “I don’t give a rip if they’ve figured out how to harness the energy of their sun, Major. What they did was wrong on so many levels I can’t count them. Yeah, you’re right, Daniel will probably adjust and accept this a hell of a lot quicker and better than I will. That’s entirely beside the point. Who’re we sending over next? Suppose they take a shine to you, or Teal’c? Or me? Would you be rolling over and playing dead so easily if it were you?” I’m on my feet with no memory of standing and the headache I’ve been fighting for the last twelve hours explodes with the force of one of Carter’s nuclear blasts. “Sir, I will not put a foot back on that planet if they continue to refuse to fix this. I’m going back to Daniel.” “You are not dismissed, Colonel,” Hammond snaps. “I’m
sorry, Jack, you’re not going anywhere until we have viable plan
in place for what’s going to happen with Dr. Jackson.” “I wouldn’t ask you to,” Hammond says quietly. “Despite what it sounds like, I do understand your feelings, Colonel.” I sit back down reluctantly. It won’t do Daniel any good for me to end up in the Brig and we’re all enough on edge it wouldn’t take much to push any one of us over. “If it’s true they’re not gonna change him back, I
want to adopt him.” “I totally agree, sir. I think we also need to assess the
situation and take action as quickly as possible, before the NID gets
wind of this. I think we need to declare Daniel dead and claim
this incarnation is a son we never knew he had. If the Turgids
are eventually willing to do something, well, we’ll work something
out then. In the meantime we need to take every precaution in order
to keep this as quiet as possible.” “Of course, you’re right. Go on, we’ll try to
hammer out a few more details before we finish for the night.” It’s been almost three hours since I left; I hope they’ve accomplished more than we did in the first two hours. Hammond crosses his arms on the pulled-up railing and stands for a long time looking down at our tiny Daniel. “You sure you’re up for this, Jack?” He looks over at me as he reaches down to brush back the hair drifting over the still scrunched-up forehead. Even in sleep Daniel knows something’s not right. And then on a sigh he says, “I think you’ll make a great
dad, Jack, even to a thirty-four-year-old-six-year-old. It’s
going to be a job not to spoil him rotten.” “Many, sir. None of them pleasant. I suppose a lot will depend on how much he really remembers, but I suspect he’s gonna be as pissed as Daniel ever is.” Between us, he sleeps on undisturbed. If the thirty-four-year-old archeologist managed to look cherubic while sleeping, who could resist this tiny, drooling incarnation. “What is it about him, do you suppose? Is it just that innocence
that attracts every damn race we come in contact with? Maybe I
should start Dr. Frasier looking for some kind of vaccine – just
for Dr. Jackson.” I’m not ready to give up my vigil just yet. Since the infirmary
is presently unoccupied except for us, Doc won’t mind if I sleep
on the next bed. I cover a yawn and shake my head as I realize maybe I’m not as
wide awake as I thought. “Hey,” I greet my best friend, as sleepy blue eyes blink and slide closed. “You slept a long time, buddy.” I’ve been awake for an hour or so, grabbed a quick shower, had an SF bring me coffee, been debriefed, or briefed, depending on how you look at it, and I’m running on all cylinders. Ready to deal with this. “Feel better?” The unspoken ‘this time’ hangs in the air between
us. “Well,” I stall, “what do you remember?” Okay, I thought I was ready for this. “Gotta go to the bathroom. Will you unhook me?” He holds up his hand for me to remove the IV from its port. He’s used to this routine, we’ve done it several dozen times over the last few years. My presence at his bedside when he wakes up is a given. “Where’er Sam and Teal’c?” He yawns again. “Daniel, before you go to the bathroom, you need to stop and think. What
do you remember about what happened?” “Thor introduced us to the Teprins. We were going to . . .” he trails off as for the first time he really looks at his hand against the railing. Astonished eyes turn up to me. A long way above him. For an instant, disbelief wars with confusion in the wide blue eyes. “What happened?” he asks, looking back down at his very small hand barely encompassing the round tubes of the railing. “No way!” He snatches his hand from mine to hold both of his out in front of him. For a long moment he stares as if unable to process what his mind is telling him. “Please tell me this is some kind of cosmic joke.” “Don’t dawdle, Frasier will be here shortly. She’s
going to want to talk to you.” The additional irritation of the top reaching nearly to his knees makes
it that much more difficult to get and keep a grip on the pants. Even
with the drawstring we were unable to tighten them enough to keep them
from sliding down over his skinny little ass. But then, we’ve
always had trouble with military clothing and Daniel; everything he puts
on looks like its three sizes too large. “Daniel? You okay?” No response, so I try the door; thankfully it’s unlocked. “What the hell are you doing?” I snatch him up off the toilet seat where he’s standing on tippy-toe, leaning against the sink and stretching as far as he can to look in the mirror. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” His skinny little arms come automatically around my neck as I grab him. He almost twists out of my loose hold as he strains to get to the mirror again. So I shift, set my knee against the sink, and stand him on my knee, keeping both hands wrapped around his waist. Teal’c could probably span his waist with just one hand. I put him down. “I got a few things to say to the Teprins. When are we going
back?” I open the door, usher Daniel back across the ward, and lower the side
rail so he can climb back up on the bed without assistance. I don’t
make the mistake of raising the rail back up either; I just sit down,
making an excellent substitute of myself. The gold standard in Daniel speak. I’m smart enough not to say what I’m thinking, which is ‘fat lot of good it will do’. “And he’s talked to Frasier about seeing if she can maybe
manipulate some of the nanite technology to age you just a little bit,
like twenty or thirty years.” I glance thankfully over my shoulder as I hear the doc’s heels
on the concrete floor, “Doc’s on her way now.” And I get my first clue that we’re absolutely dealing with a kid here. “How are you going to fix this?” he demands. “Uh, Doc, I don’t really think we can blame this one on
Daniel. As far as I know, he didn’t touch anything, say
anything, or even look at anybody wrong.” I want to pull him onto my lap and hold him, but I don’t know
if that’s acceptable now. “Daniel, I don’t know if there’s anything we can do. All
your results are normal. You’re a perfectly normal, perfectly
healthy . . . little boy.” She rushes on before he
can interrupt. “Last time this happened your body reacted
as though it was under a great deal of stress. There’s none
of that this time, nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary has
happened.” “I LOST THREE QUARTERS OF MY LIFE HERE, HOW CAN EVERYTHING BE
NORMAL?” “I don’t wanna be little again, Jack.” “I know, Daniel, and we’re trying to get it fixed. But I need you to listen to me, okay? And I mean really listen.” I tilt his chin up so he’s looking me in the eye. His jaw clenches tight. “Thor told us the Terrapins have refused to change you back.” I can see the mutinous light in his eye all ready. “We’re trying diplomatic channels. Doc Frasier’s looking into bending the nanite technology, but she won’t use it unless it’s perfectly safe for you.” I throw up a hand when he starts with the ‘I don’t care . . .’ “You may not, we do. We’d rather have a live, tiny
Daniel, than a dead Daniel, period. We won’t be using it
unless it’s perfectly safe, end of that conversation. Carter
has contacted her dad to see if the Tok’ra have any sort of technology
that could possibly change you back. Janet has a dozen different
scientists combing through your test results on the off chance she missed
some minuscule little detail that might put us on track to reversing
this process. All that said, I don’t think we’re gonna
be able to fix this. I don’t think Thor would mess with
our heads like this if it weren’t the honest-to-God truth.” Nothing dumb about this kid. “Hammond doesn’t think the brass will let us turn down an
alliance.” He’s right. It’s not the same. “I’m sorry.” He tilts his head up to look at me again, all big eyes and that mop of hair. And sighs again. “So what’s the plan?” “For the time being, we’re sending SG-8 out to an archeological
site for an extended mission. As far as everyone outside the SGC
is concerned, you’ll be on that mission.” “Well, as soon as we can manage it, we’re going to . . . uhm . . .” I’m at a loss for words here. Carter’s roughed out enough of the details we think we can pull off the unacknowledged son bit, at least outside the SGC. This is so not going to go over well. Frasier’s been awfully quiet since she made her announcement. I
look to her now, but she only gives me a minimal twist of the head, indicating
her unwillingness to give him this news. She’s already had
to give enough bad news of her own. Do I tell him I’m not absolutely certain we can keep him safe if that happens? Right. Stupid question, O’Neill, he doesn’t need to be told that. “Anyway, obviously we want to keep that from happening at all
costs. So, we need to keep up the charade you’re off playing
in the dirt with SG-8 until we figure out whether we can get this reversed.” Daniel hates it when I do this to him and I shouldn’t be doing it now. This is serious and he deserves to know, even if he doesn’t want to hear it. “Sorry.” I twitch a shoulder and plunge ahead. “If
we can’t do anything to reverse it, we’ll eventually have
to have you die in some unfortunate off-world accident and after a bit,
resurrect you.” I grab his hands as he turns to clutch at my t-shirt. As gently
as I can, I pull him back against my chest, palming the small blond head
and massaging the back of his neck. Frasier grabs a paper bag and plasters it around his nose and mouth. “Breathe, Daniel,” she orders sharply. And realizing he can’t, she calms her own voice and says quietly. “Shh, shhh, shhh. Listen to me, okay. Close your eyes and listen to my voice.” I can’t see what’s happening, but he does relax a little, so I know he’s listening. “Exhale, close your mouth and breathe out through your nose. There you go, okay, now, gently, gently, breathe in again. Out . . . In . . . Out . . . there you go, couple more times, okay, and I’ll take the bag away. Once more . . . that’s good. You okay now?” I feel him nod against me and though his breath is still coming in short, sharp gasps, I can feel his lungs expanding and contracting again. I move my hand down to rub the absurdly tiny back. “Okay?” I ask. “No.” “We’ll get this fixed somehow, I promise.” Before the words are out of my mouth I’m kicking myself – because I shouldn’t be telling him anything I’m not a hundred percent positive I can follow through on. I can’t help it. He needs to hear it and I need to say it. I need to believe it as much as he does. “We don’t have to go into detail. For now, we’re just going to say you were brought to our attention under highly classified circumstances and because your father was my best friend, you’re staying with me.” He’s quiet for a bit and I know that overpowered brain is working
away at this new puzzle. He lifts his head to look over at Frasier. “How old am I anyway?” Frasier flirts a shoulder and mumbles something unintelligible. Daniel unconsciously leans toward her. “What?” “About six – I think,” she says softly, wincing. “I don’t have a lot of experience . . .” He just shakes his head and burrows back into my chest. “I hate you,” he says on a weary sigh. “I hate you all.” Frasier leans forward to place a light kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit. I think you and the Colonel need some time to talk, okay?” For now, all I can do is echo his sigh, and rock imperceptibly. I’d hate us too. But there are things we have to accomplish and the day is sliding away. “How old do you want . . . let me rephrase that . . . how old do you think we should say you are? I know you want to be 34. Right at the moment that’s not possible. I already know eight’s no good. Was there an age you liked being? A time when your memories are happy?” “No,” he says shortly. “I put away all those memories the year I turned eight. And then foster care ate away what I’d managed to squirrel away from before.” You don’t get to be a Colonel in the U.S. Air Force by being a sap, but that goes straight to the little bit that’s left of my heart. I know where he went to school for the first time ever and that the teachers initially thought he was mildly autistic. I know he lived in some rough foster home situations before he finally escaped the system and went to live in a college dorm at age sixteen. I know that in college he was exposed to the seamier side of life long before he should have had the coping skills to just say no, but I also know he had the smarts and the balls to keep saying no in the appropriate places. However, I know none of this from Daniel. But you don’t go to work for the top secret military instillation on Earth until you have no secrets anymore. “I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, D.J., but if you want to get out of here, there are some things we’re going to have to resolve. You don’t want to live on base until we can get this fixed do you?” “Yes, I do.” He sniffs. “No.” Further sniffs. “I don’t know.” A fat, glistening tear plops like a raindrop on my forearm. “I don’t want to do this.” “I know. Oops - we didn’t think about that. “And Halloween besides? Well, I can guarantee you
one thing, I’ll certainly live up to the sobriquet ‘devil
child’ if I have to do this again.” He’s not happy, but at least he’s not throwing a tantrum. “I don’t want to do this.” He told me once, that life started shitting on him at the age of eight. It hasn’t stopped. A silent rain of bitter tears batters my arm and then he’s clambering
up on my leg, shoving his face into my neck, arms squeezing for all they’re
worth, and hiccupping through that storm of silent tears that he really,
really, really doesn’t want to have to do this again and can’t
I make it all go away and make him big again, please, Jack, please? Carter comes in, followed by Teal’c. She sinks down on the bed and reaches to put her arms around both of us, rocking with us. She starts to cry too, which makes Daniel cry harder. She’s murmuring to him, so quietly I can’t understand a word she says, though I know Daniel can, because every once in awhile he nods. He transfers his arms to around her neck and is holding on like she’s a life line in these rough seas. I grab Teal’c by the wrist and drag him over. He surprises me when he drops to one knee and puts his arms around all of us, resting his forehead gently against Daniel’s temple. I can’t begin to imagine what we must look like, but neither do I care. It’s not something we usually advertise, but I think all of us have acknowledged already - for better or worse this is our family unit. It’s just taken a new twist. And I want Daniel to understand
from the get-go we’re all in this together; we are all going to
be here for him. She pulls Daniel from my arms for a hug, hands him off to Teal’c, who hugs him as well, and deposits him back in my lap. Frasier joins us again, sitting down on the other side of the bed. She swoops in to plant another kiss on Daniel’s forehead as he
leans back against me. “Why do I have to be little to get this kind of treatment?” “I know,” she reaches out automatically, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand. “I do, Daniel, I know it’s not easy for you to let us in.” This is her drinking buddy, though Daniel’s alcohol tolerance
is on the low end of non-existent, her go-to guy when she needs a shoulder
to cry on, her best friend, for cryin’ out loud. Well, after
Frasier, I guess, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he beat out
Frasier for the spot. They spend a lot of time together on missions,
not all of it work. He giggles, a sound I don’t believe I’ve ever heard out of the adult manifestation, and immediately claps a hand over his mouth, mortified. “Don’t,” he snaps, sliding back out of her grasp. “I’m not,” Daniel states empathetically. “I grew out of it years ago.” “Ohhhhh,” Carter grins, drawing out the word. “I see.” Probably to show he means business, he reverts to a smokescreen of questions. “Oh.” While it’s not exactly an order, its clear Frasier’s drawing the line at coffee this morning. I’m wondering if she’s gonna draw the proverbial line in the sand over this all together, or is it just a temporary thing. This could be our first show down with our headstrong, suddenly short, archeologist. “Just until we’re sure there’s nothing out of whack,
okay?” He drinks it black, doesn’t want anything diluting his caffeine. The doc isn’t always around. He relaxes a little and I know he’s gotten the message; he’s just not sure I’m really going to side with him against Frasier on this issue. He’s probably right, but this isn’t a battle we have to fight right now. “Bring him some orange juice too, would you, Teal’c.” She and Teal’c head for the other end of the infirmary. “When can we go home?” She cups Daniel’s cheek, doing the mom thing, checking for fever. This is so different from last time; I know she’s worried still. Last time he was one sick kiddo for the first few days after the transformation. The occupants of the planet told us it was a blessing from some lady or another. A gift of reclamation and healing. I’m not sure how much Daniel got out of the experience, but it
sure was fun . . . for a few days. “I need some stuff from my office if I’m going to figure
out any kind of reasonable argument to convince the Teprins to change
me back. And you didn’t answer me. Are you going to
let me work? Will I still be able to go through the Gate?” We went round and round on this last night before I left the meeting. Obviously
we can’t do it on a regular basis, there’s too much risk
involved, but I don’t see why we can’t take him off world
occasionally . . . as long as it’s staked out like the White House. I’m a little surprised, actually, Daniel’s taking this much
better than I thought he would. Daniel grabs my neck, legs clamping around my waist, as I rise automatically. I sit back down, Daniel still clinging to me like the space monkey he is.
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