superbadgirl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
superbadgirl) wrote2008-12-05 03:20 pm
superbadgirl) wrote2008-12-05 03:20 pm
Entry tags:
SG-1 Gen Fic: For Every Action 6/10
Title: For Every Action
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
superbadgirl
Category: H/C with a Daniel slant, Team
Season/Spoiler: Very early S2
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,078 this chapter, 44,900 total
Summary: Off camera, Teal'c had some problems. Sam thinks she's having a breakdown. Daniel explains How Things Are. Jack lurks in the bushes.
Teal’c weighed a ton, and Sam knew he wasn’t even giving her a fraction of his weight.
She also knew he was embarrassed, but it could have happened to either of them. Part of his machismo was expected. He was, after all, very male. Sam thought she’d sensed a certain amount of gentleness in him, though, something that set him a little apart from a regular old human male. She guessed she should be glad for that machismo, because there was no way they would have made it if it had fallen to her strength alone.
“When you say we’re almost there, you mean almost there, right?” Sam said, grunting a little as their hobbling steps stuttered from the quasi-rhythm they’d established. “Not an hour away.”
“I would estimate the time of arrival to be no more than ten minutes, Captain Carter.”
Uh oh. Sam could hear discomfort in his voice. Teal’c didn’t showcase his discomfort, as far as she could tell. As disconcerting as his obvious pain was to hear, she was relieved to hear his answer. Ten minutes meant they were very close, considering their pace. She was surprised she couldn’t see firelight or maybe hear something from the colonel or Daniel, but then as far as she knew they had met with disaster hours ago.
And that was something she didn’t really want to think about.
Sam quickened her pace without intending to, which of course threw her and Teal’c’s rhythm off even more. She paid for it when Teal’c tightened his grip on her shoulder, and damn he was strong. She hissed, the pressure making her remember how tender that shoulder was from the tumble through the ‘gate. It couldn’t be nearly as tender as Teal’c’s knee right now. She wondered why his super-Jaffa-recovery-mechanism hadn’t kicked in yet. She decided not to ask him; she wouldn’t want to wound his pride any more.
The lack of water, she realized. Dehydration could be and probably was the answer to his taking longer to recover from injury. It was also what she could now hear – waves lapping against the shore with a gentle wash and roll. Thirst came back strong and fast. Sam guessed she shouldn’t have counted on the distraction of Teal’c’s knee injury lasting the duration of the trip back. She appreciated it while it had, now that reality was setting back in. And miles to go before I sleep, she thought with a sigh.
Then she heard something besides water and began to smile. A voice drifted over to them.
“That’s Daniel,” Sam said. “He’s awake.”
She could smell smoke now, and see an orange glow that wasn’t coming from the moon. Daniel was awake and both he and the colonel were apparently all right enough to be talking. This time it was Teal’c who picked up the pace, hobbling less than he had been. He had probably heard Daniel talking from some distance back. Sam sneaked a glance over to him, wondering why he hadn’t said anything. He looked as exhausted as she felt. His signs of infallibility were kind of nice to see, even as they were probably a source of agitation for him.
They burst through the dense forest onto the beach with suddenness that shouldn’t have surprised her. Daniel and the colonel stared over at them with equal surprise. She was so glad to see them that she almost let go of Teal’c. In doing so, she set in motion of chain of unfortunate grapples that ended in both her and Teal’c crashing to the ground. She heard the colonel call out, but was too overcome by an urge to laugh to let her CO know they were okay. Call it stress, call it stress relief, call it exhaustion. Once she started laughing, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Jeez, what happened to you two?” the colonel said, very close now.
His concern just made her laugh harder, though some part of her knew how inappropriate the reaction was. An instant replay of Teal’c slipping on a giant leaf wet from bird poo rolled like a movie in her head again; that kind of stuff just didn’t happen to him and even though he’d twisted his knee, it was damn funny.
“Are they okay? What’s going on?” Daniel asked.
Daniel’s queries, for some reason, sobered her up. Sam stopped giggling and extricated her limbs from the tangled mess she and Teal’c were. She flipped over, greeted by the colonel’s frowning face. He probably had no idea how haggard he looked, the lines on his face shadowed by the moon’s weakening rays. None of this was fun and games, she reminded herself. She felt like a wretch for laughing.
“We’re fine, Daniel,” she said as she sat up.
Sam looked over to the camp. Daniel was still lying next to the fire, though he was propped on one elbow. She scrunched her eyebrows together slightly and switched her attention to the colonel. His lips were in a thin line that could only represent one thing – displeasure of some kind. He shook his head at her. She clung to the idea that his unhappiness was because she’d probably unintentionally made it seem like she and Teal’c were injured above and beyond what they actually were. Her laughter had sounded more like wheezing. She stood up and swiped the sand off her clothes. Or his expression was irritation, and she couldn’t blame him for that either. Laughing wasn’t the best thing she could have done.
“We encountered difficulties, O’Neill,” Teal’c said, getting to his feet as well.
Understatement.
“Yeah, so did we,” the colonel said, staring over at Daniel
Sam became uneasy. Now she couldn’t read his expression – lack of expression – at all. She supposed that in and of itself was a somewhat accurate interpretation. It was also no shock that the colonel and Daniel’s difficulties might have revolved around Daniel, though he looked okay now. Better than okay. Better than lying unconscious and feverish, or dead like she’d imagined.
“But we’ll swap stories later. Teal’c, you okay?” the colonel asked. “You look like you’re limping a bit.”
“I am fine.”
A slight untruth, but all things considered, a bum knee on a Jaffa was not a life-or-death issue. Sam kept her gaze on Daniel as they walked. It occurred to her, a little late, to wonder why Daniel hadn’t moved to check on them like O’Neill had. The fever, she thought a moment later, the fever had probably taken a lot out of him. She saw Daniel had the canteen propped against his hip and was relieved. She’d assumed the creatures had taken the canteen for that reason. Well, she hoped, really. Between the whole not thinking about how her friends might be dead or maimed, but they weren’t, so she should stop thinking about that now. She was a little dizzy, though she couldn’t say why. Too many things in her head.
“Daniel,” she said as she crouched down next to him. “How’re you feeling?”
He smiled at her, expression strange, like he didn’t really mean it. Okay, something was going on, and she thought she wasn’t going to like it when she found out what.
“I’m not, ah, I’m not feeling much of anything. Didn’t Jack tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Daniel can’t move his legs,” the colonel said.
The colonel crouched down as well, reaching for the small pile of branches near the fire. He scooped them up and tossed them onto the fire, sparks flying up. One landed on her thigh with a hiss, and a slightly acrid smell wafted from it. Big spark, she thought dully. She stared down at the black spot, trying to process the information she’d just been told. Her brain must be more affected by the dehydration than she’d thought, because it didn’t quite connect.
“Can’t move his legs,” she said.
“Yes, Carter. That’s right. Can’t move his legs, as in he’s paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Paralyzed.”
Calling parrot Carter. Her brain was thick. She didn’t really know why she kept repeating everything that was being said like she didn’t understand the meaning of the words. She understood. She just didn’t understand. Daniel looked fine. She plopped her butt down on the sand.
“I need to get more firewood,” the colonel said, stomping off.
She, Teal’c and Daniel sat there watching him go. Sam looked away when he disappeared into the underbrush, her gaze landing on Daniel’s legs. She knew what paralyzed meant, so she couldn’t possibly expect them to start moving, except she kind of did. She glanced up and saw Daniel watching her.
“It’s temporary,” Daniel said. “I’m sure it’ll go away.”
Daniel’s stomach growled, and so Sam stared at that part of his anatomy instead of his legs or his eyes. His eyes were filled with doubt that couldn’t be masked by the assurance he tried to give.
“What has transpired here, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c said, voice softer than Sam had heard it in a long time.
“I don’t really know, to be honest with you. I only know I woke up in the water and I couldn’t feel my legs.”
From Jungle Fever to Dinosaur Island to … this. She couldn’t play this off with a lame fake movie title. Actually, she shouldn’t have for the other things, either. There really wasn’t anything amusing about their situation at all.
“You just couldn’t feel your legs?” she said. Damnit, there she went stating the obvious again. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Sam tried to think of any Earth-based illnesses with similar symptoms, though she really hoped now Daniel’s illness hadn’t been contracted at the SGC. The only thing she could come up with was encephalitis, and the symptoms weren’t that similar at all. No debilitating headache, no unjustifiable confusion, no seizures that she was aware of, and the paralysis seemed to be too localized.
“Actually, it does.” Daniel sighed, an old and tired sound. “What happened to you guys?”
If it wasn’t an Earth-bound illness, then it could have come from anywhere, from anything. At any time. None of this made sense. Daniel hadn’t been anywhere the rest of the team hadn’t, so at least one of them should have started exhibiting the same symptoms. It was bad enough to have Daniel ill, but paralyzed? Sam didn’t know how to deal with that complication – it came with issues they were even less prepared to handle.
“The details of our venture are somewhat unimportant at this time, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said. “Of greater concern is your condition.”
Sam startled at the sound of his voice, pulled from her thoughts.
Daniel blanched, looking uncomfortable and very much like he didn’t want to talk about the specifics. Well, none of them seemed to want to do that, but all of them really should. An exchange of intel was necessary even when nobody wanted to hear it. Sam glanced back to where O’Neill had disappeared, seeing him emerge from the underbrush with an armful of sticks. The moon was setting. She doubted they really needed to feed the fire for much longer, and she hoped they wouldn’t be around for another night.
“We’ve all got stories to swap,” the colonel said, plopping the sticks down, “but some of us need to get some sleep. That means you, Carter. We need you to figure out what’s wrong with the DHD tomorrow.”
The DHD wasn’t the only thing in need of fixing.
“But – ” she started to say.
“Carter.”
There would be no discussing, apparently. She didn’t know how O’Neill expected any of them to rest with so many weighty unknowns looming over their heads. Despite her doubts, though, Sam did find herself yawning. She tried to hide it, keeping her lips tightly compressed while she formed a canyon in her mouth. That effort was a wasted one. Both the colonel and Teal’c caught her at it, and Daniel would have, except he had lain back down and was staring at the sky.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“I do remember you guys asking me if I knew what made me sick,” Daniel said, words rushed and detached.
The colonel stiffened.
Daniel must have noticed; he waved his hand a little. “I was just about to tell Jack this when you guys showed up.”
“It can wait, Daniel.”
“Maybe it can, but it won’t change anything if I don’t say it.”
“What is it you wish to tell us, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c said.
Yes, what? Sam was just tired and concerned enough that the vague commentary between O’Neill and Daniel annoyed her. It was too late for Daniel to not say anything now.
“I think the Wiutehians are a parasitical society. There are those that have everything – the best schools, the best technology, the best standard of life,” Daniel said. He turned his head and looked at them, the strange smile back on his face. “And then there are those who have nothing, whose lives have been so devalued they are hidden from sight.”
“Only visited when the rich need something from them,” the colonel added. He grimaced and rubbed a hand across his mouth, like he could somehow scrub the words away.
Sam didn’t know why they were so upsetting to him.
“Which is why we weren’t welcome there.”
“The people in the ghetto thought we were going to take from them the same way Bajiar and his kind did.”
“Apparently they didn’t have to worry about that too much,” the colonel said.
“I don’t understand. They had nothing for us, or the Wiutehians to take,” Sam said. “How could the society be parasitical?”
“What do parasites do, Carter?”
“They use other forms of life purely for their own gain,” Teal’c said with distaste. “The Wiutehians are no better than the Goa’uld.”
Sam had a sudden memory of a crippled man, an intense moment. She finally found herself on the same page as her teammates, and it wasn’t a page she really wanted to read.
~~*~~
It was the looks of pity that Daniel couldn’t bear. He doubted any of them realized they were doing it, Sam being the worst offender, but that didn’t lessen his discomfort. The broad daylight made all the difference, set every expression that had probably happened last night into vibrant color. The two suns seemed to make everything that much brighter and clearer. Normally he appreciated clarity. Now he found himself resenting it.
“Are you doing okay out there, Sam?” Daniel said as she ducked down under the lean-to’s shade. He picked up the canteen and shook it. There wasn’t much left. “It’s getting warm.”
“I’m okay. I haven’t made much progress.” After an expected, brief, and pity-filled glance at his legs, Sam focused on the canteen. “To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what’s wrong with the DHD.”
He wouldn’t pull a Jack and assure her that she’d figure it out. The truth was she might not, and faith sometimes seemed a lot more like pressure than belief. She didn’t need that from him, not when Jack had prowled around her all morning. He was glad when Jack had announced he was going to canvass the nearby area for anything that might look edible or of any other use to them. He need the break, and he was positive both Sam and Teal’c did as well. Jack could be very aggravating.
“It could probably be about a million different things.”
“Yeah. I have one last thing to try with the DHD itself, then I’m going to have to dig deeper, literally,” Sam said. She bit down on the corner of her lip, eyes still trained on the canteen. “There’s not much left?”
“No.” He handed the water over to her. Her cheeks were a radiant pink. On any other occasion Daniel might have considered it an attractive look, but here it only spoke of exertion and heat. It increased his concern about their dilemma. “You should drink some.”
“You have no idea how much I want that.” Sam swiped a forearm across her sweaty brow. She shook her head, pursing her chapped lips together. “I think I can hold off for a little longer.”
“Sam,” he said. “Out of all of us, it’s most important that you don’t, as Jack would say, keel over.”
She nodded, but didn’t look happy. Daniel didn’t blame her. Their fate really did rest on her shoulders. So much for no pressure. He looked at her until she made eye contact with him, then gave her a smile he hoped was mischievous.
“At least not until we get home. The SGC is a ‘feel free to keel’ zone.”
Her eyebrows raised, and for a second he wasn’t sure if she’d taken his comment in the spirit it was intended. Then she said, “Oh, it is, huh?”
“Well, you know, medical help is readily available there, for one thing. Bang your head, bruise your bu, er, arm and Doctor Fraiser is right there.”
“Good point.” Sam chewed a piece of dried skin that had started to crack and peel away from her lower lip. She stopped worrying at it quickly, with a grimace. “We’ll get you there, Daniel, I swear.”
Don’t make promises, he almost said.
“I’m not the only one stuck here,” Daniel said instead.
Sam nodded, gave the canteen one last longing look, and went back out into the sun. She was putting too much pressure on herself, he realized. Jack had nothing on her. Daniel didn’t envy her task. The DHD seemed a more complicated piece of machinery than the Stargate itself; with the ‘gate, it came down to mechanics – replace a cog here, a bracket there. It had taken a team of scientists years to come up with the computer counterpart to the DHD. But what did he know? He was an archaeologist, not a … what was Sam’s specialty again? He could never remember it exactly. It probably wasn’t that relevant. He had already worn several different hats himself since joining SG-1.
His thoughts quickly returned to the Wiutehians – both affluent and destitute. He doubted the rich would allow anyone from Earth to set foot back on the planet. Even if they did, it could be disastrous. Daniel tried to imagine what it was like for that crippled man to regain some of his good fortune, assuming the transference went both ways, and then tried to imagine that on a broader scale. It wasn’t a pretty scene. He wished that he had more information about both sides of the story. Right now, everything he knew was based on conjecture, the meanderings of a man who was stuck looking at a ramshackle roof of twigs on a remote beach on some remote planet in the galaxy. What did he know, he thought again. He was a paralyzed archaeologist.
He was a paralyzed archaeologist with an itch right in the middle of his back.
Daniel rolled his arms and shoulders forward so most of his back was touching sand, then started rocking his upper body like a turtle caught on its shell might do. It wasn’t as effective as an actual scratch, but it would have to do. And then his right shoulder blade started to itch as well. He sighed. So this was how it was going to be for the rest of his existence. He teetered over to the right and scraped his shoulder blade against the sand.
“May I be of assistance, Daniel Jackson?”
Daniel thudded his torso flat down on his back again. It figured only Teal’c would manage to approach him without kicking up a telltale spray of sand. He squinted up. From his vantage point, all he could see was a looming, large body. Teal’c’s head was cut off from his vision by the roof of his shelter. He wondered if Teal’c could see his face if he couldn’t see Teal’c’s. He was tempted to cross his eyes or stick out his tongue to see what kind of reaction either would get. He got distracted by the very thought of the offer, though. Having a nice, strong set of fingers scratch at his itch would be heaven right now, and Teal’c was a less embarrassing candidate for that kind of help than either Sam or Jack.
“You know,” Daniel said. The itch in the middle of his back returned. “Since you offered, would you mind? It must be from lying in the sand for so long.”
Teal’c crouched down, face as inexpressive as ever; that couldn’t be how he really was, but the veneer he had was really polished well. Sometimes Teal’c’s stoicism set Daniel on edge. He welcomed it right now, especially since it was incredibly difficult to sit up without help from leg muscles. Teal’c gave him what he thought just might be a smile, grasped his shoulders with care, lifted and then braced him up with one hand planted just below the nape of his neck. The scratching began, and Daniel felt transported to some heavenly plane or existence. Teal’c had magic fingers.
“Ohhhh, right there, yeah,” Daniel said. Teal’c couldn’t be putting his full muscle into it. “Don’t be afraid to do it a little harder. I’m not made of bone … ohhh … china. Oooooooh, yeah, more like that. That’s niiiiiice. Feels so good.”
Teal’c was very prompt and responsive with things other than battling the Goa’uld. Daniel appreciated that about him. He didn’t want this little scratching session to ever end. Thankfully, Teal’c saw fit to cover every inch of his back and shoulders. Daniel relaxed into the scratching as if he were receiving a massage. He wondered if it would be too much to ask. But then Teal’c stopped. Daniel sighed.
“Do you require further stimulation?” Teal’c said.
At that, there was a bizarre resonance coming from behind the lean-to, accompanied by skittering along the wall. Daniel stiffened. Teal’c eased him back to the ground, and then remained very still, on the auditory hunt for whatever might be lurking back there. Daniel had a brief flash of what it might be like if the giant birds decided to be less tolerant of SG-1’s presence. Not pretty. Pretty much like their reception would be if they had to go back to Wiutehia, only with strong beaks and sharp talons.
His fears were unfounded. He recognized the strange sound at last.
“Jack?” he said.
Jack didn’t, probably couldn’t, answer him; he was too busy laughing. Daniel felt his cheeks flush, and not from the warm air temperature. He was right – Teal’c had been the ideal candidate for the job. Jack’s display of sophomoric mirth was proof enough of that. So he had made a few sounds easily misinterpreted as something a bit more risqué. It wasn’t really that funny. He rolled his eyes at Teal’c, who tilted his head a little and raised an eyebrow. Jack continued to chortle as he rounded the lean-to’s corner. Daniel arched his back and neck so he could give Jack an upside down glare, but lost heart when he saw how relaxed the laughter made the other man. He hadn’t been relaxed in what was probably days now, and if it was at Daniel’s own expense, then so be it. He pictured Jack walking along, minding his business and suddenly being bombarded by sounds that could have easily come from a soft porn movie. Not that he would know.
“Daniel Jackson required my assistance to scratch an itch,” Teal’c said, with total earnestness.
Jack’s laughter had been dwindling, but that set him off again. Teal’c only looked all the more puzzled. Damnit if Daniel didn’t feel the development of a laugh rise up from his belly into his chest. Okay, maybe it was that funny, and maybe it was okay to relax a little himself. With the exception of his lower half, he’d been pretty tense for the duration as well.
“Yeah, I got that,” Jack said. “Ne…next time you … you should get a room.”
“There are no rooms on this planet, O’Neill, nor do I understand the purpose of seeking one. I would scratch Daniel Jackson’s itch in any location if doing so would bring him relief.”
Jack collapsed as if his legs had suddenly become as useless as Daniel’s, falling on his rear. He wasn’t laughing so much as gasping for breath now. Daniel couldn’t help it – he chuckled a little himself. Teal’c continued to look perplexed, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d apparently figured out that every time he spoke was cause for Jack to deteriorate even further.
“I was merely attempting provide aid. I do not find your amusement appropriate,” Teal’c said, and started walking away. “I will assist Captain Carter now.”
“Awww,” Jack wheezed. “Teal’c’s p…outing.”
Daniel kept laughing quietly. Poor Teal’c. He’d have to explain that sometimes when people were under pressure for a sustained period of time that a seemingly random and insignificant event would be like a release valve, through which every range of emotion might escape. It was a far, far better thing for Jack to have stumbled across his and Teal’c’s scratching session than to have continued to let the bad stuff build. Unfortunately the more he thought about it, the faster his own amusement faded. Teal’c was right, of course. This wasn’t a laughing matter for any of them. Reason returned fully when he moved his arm and it bumped up against the near-empty canteen. He cleared his throat.
“We’re almost out of water again,” Daniel said.
Jack stopped laughing with a few last sighs.
“How’d the food hunt go?”
Jack took off his cap, scratched his head in a half-hearted ruffle and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he blew out a breath and drew the cap down so it almost obscured his whole face. That didn’t look very encouraging. The birds had to eat something, though he guessed knowing that hadn’t really been helpful in the search. Many birds ate bugs, and while humans could do the same, he’d rather be hungry for a bit. Grasshoppers weren’t his first choice, even the kind dipped in chocolate. Been there, eaten that.
“Well, we might have to raid the hatchery Carter and Teal’c said they found,” Jack said at last, “because there isn’t much else in the immediate area.”
“Oh, good idea.”
“I thought so. Nothing would cap off this mission better than being torn to pieces by a flock of giant pterodactyls.”
“Not that they’d be to blame if we were trying to eat their babies.”
“You’ve got a point,” Jack said, a trace of a smile returning to his face. “Can you imagine if chickens came that size? Oy.”
Daniel was starting to feel better again, at least emotionally. He could always count on Jack to try to keep things light even in the face of bleak circumstances. Besides, they’d run out of water before. For all they knew, the birds were keeping tabs on their progress; the only motivation Daniel had been able to figure for the water drop was to get SG-1 off the planet sooner. The birds seemed to like their solitude, and the quicker SG-1were gone, the quicker they’d have it. He ignored how hot his eyes felt and gave Jack a small smile.
“Attack of the fifty foot chicken?”
“Well, fuck a duck, yeah. You could say that.”
Daniel mouthed ‘fuck a duck’ and raised his eyebrows. Jack shrugged his shoulders as he unclipped his pack. He swung it around, plopping it on the sand in front of him. He began rooting through it, all business. The ability to joke and still be completely in charge of a situation was actually a quality Daniel admired in Jack. But fuck a duck?
“I found some berries that might be edible and plants that look like dandelions.”
“People put dandelions in salads all the time,” Daniel said, trying to sound optimistic.
“Weird people put dandelions in salads all the time, but needs must. We’ll have to do the Teal’c test for both. If his, you know, Goa’uld larva or whatever tells him it’s not good for him, then it’s probably not good for us.”
Daniel nodded. Damn, his back was starting to itch again. He concentrated on watching Jack lay out the meager foodstuffs, like that could somehow make him forget about the itch.
“Too bad you chased him away.” Daniel squirmed. It really was too bad.
“Hey, he didn’t take off until you laughed.”
“Yes, that’s right, blame me.” Daniel squirmed some more. He couldn’t help it, even though he knew no amount of squirming would work. Once he’d started, it seemed impossible to stop. “It’s all my fault.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked.
He noticed belatedly that Jack had stopped spreading out his wares. Daniel looked up and found Jack was staring at him, eyebrows visible above his sunglasses. He finished his squirm before stopping at a comfortable position.
“I itch. Lying around in sand all day does that.”
“Oh.” Jack’s eyebrows receded back down until they were hidden behind the shades. He frowned again and even though his eyes were covered, Jack looked Daniel up and down in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable. More than he was already, anyway. “Oh. You should have said something. Maybe if you lie on a jacket or two, that would help. Just sit up and I can put them down.”
“Easier said than do –”
“Yes, yes, YES!”
Sam’s emphatic shout cut Daniel off, and he was glad for the distraction. He didn’t like the idea of Jack having to help him with basic bodily functions. More than that, he just didn’t like the reminder of how helpless he was. Funny how he was fine with Teal’c’s help but not Jack…oh, god, he wondered what would happen when he had to go to the bathroom. He didn’t really want to think about that, or wonder if he’d even be able to tell when he had to go.
“Sounds like Teal’c’s worked his magic on another member of my team,” Jack said wryly. “And so fast. I wonder what his secret is.”
“Shut up, Jack, and go find out what’s going on.”
Jack nodded and took off. Daniel’s back didn’t itch anymore. Thoughts of embarrassing bodily functions and a tiny thread of incongruous cold traveling up his spine aside, things were looking up.
to chapter seven
Author:
superbadgirlCategory: H/C with a Daniel slant, Team
Season/Spoiler: Very early S2
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,078 this chapter, 44,900 total
Summary: Off camera, Teal'c had some problems. Sam thinks she's having a breakdown. Daniel explains How Things Are. Jack lurks in the bushes.
Teal’c weighed a ton, and Sam knew he wasn’t even giving her a fraction of his weight.
She also knew he was embarrassed, but it could have happened to either of them. Part of his machismo was expected. He was, after all, very male. Sam thought she’d sensed a certain amount of gentleness in him, though, something that set him a little apart from a regular old human male. She guessed she should be glad for that machismo, because there was no way they would have made it if it had fallen to her strength alone.
“When you say we’re almost there, you mean almost there, right?” Sam said, grunting a little as their hobbling steps stuttered from the quasi-rhythm they’d established. “Not an hour away.”
“I would estimate the time of arrival to be no more than ten minutes, Captain Carter.”
Uh oh. Sam could hear discomfort in his voice. Teal’c didn’t showcase his discomfort, as far as she could tell. As disconcerting as his obvious pain was to hear, she was relieved to hear his answer. Ten minutes meant they were very close, considering their pace. She was surprised she couldn’t see firelight or maybe hear something from the colonel or Daniel, but then as far as she knew they had met with disaster hours ago.
And that was something she didn’t really want to think about.
Sam quickened her pace without intending to, which of course threw her and Teal’c’s rhythm off even more. She paid for it when Teal’c tightened his grip on her shoulder, and damn he was strong. She hissed, the pressure making her remember how tender that shoulder was from the tumble through the ‘gate. It couldn’t be nearly as tender as Teal’c’s knee right now. She wondered why his super-Jaffa-recovery-mechanism hadn’t kicked in yet. She decided not to ask him; she wouldn’t want to wound his pride any more.
The lack of water, she realized. Dehydration could be and probably was the answer to his taking longer to recover from injury. It was also what she could now hear – waves lapping against the shore with a gentle wash and roll. Thirst came back strong and fast. Sam guessed she shouldn’t have counted on the distraction of Teal’c’s knee injury lasting the duration of the trip back. She appreciated it while it had, now that reality was setting back in. And miles to go before I sleep, she thought with a sigh.
Then she heard something besides water and began to smile. A voice drifted over to them.
“That’s Daniel,” Sam said. “He’s awake.”
She could smell smoke now, and see an orange glow that wasn’t coming from the moon. Daniel was awake and both he and the colonel were apparently all right enough to be talking. This time it was Teal’c who picked up the pace, hobbling less than he had been. He had probably heard Daniel talking from some distance back. Sam sneaked a glance over to him, wondering why he hadn’t said anything. He looked as exhausted as she felt. His signs of infallibility were kind of nice to see, even as they were probably a source of agitation for him.
They burst through the dense forest onto the beach with suddenness that shouldn’t have surprised her. Daniel and the colonel stared over at them with equal surprise. She was so glad to see them that she almost let go of Teal’c. In doing so, she set in motion of chain of unfortunate grapples that ended in both her and Teal’c crashing to the ground. She heard the colonel call out, but was too overcome by an urge to laugh to let her CO know they were okay. Call it stress, call it stress relief, call it exhaustion. Once she started laughing, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Jeez, what happened to you two?” the colonel said, very close now.
His concern just made her laugh harder, though some part of her knew how inappropriate the reaction was. An instant replay of Teal’c slipping on a giant leaf wet from bird poo rolled like a movie in her head again; that kind of stuff just didn’t happen to him and even though he’d twisted his knee, it was damn funny.
“Are they okay? What’s going on?” Daniel asked.
Daniel’s queries, for some reason, sobered her up. Sam stopped giggling and extricated her limbs from the tangled mess she and Teal’c were. She flipped over, greeted by the colonel’s frowning face. He probably had no idea how haggard he looked, the lines on his face shadowed by the moon’s weakening rays. None of this was fun and games, she reminded herself. She felt like a wretch for laughing.
“We’re fine, Daniel,” she said as she sat up.
Sam looked over to the camp. Daniel was still lying next to the fire, though he was propped on one elbow. She scrunched her eyebrows together slightly and switched her attention to the colonel. His lips were in a thin line that could only represent one thing – displeasure of some kind. He shook his head at her. She clung to the idea that his unhappiness was because she’d probably unintentionally made it seem like she and Teal’c were injured above and beyond what they actually were. Her laughter had sounded more like wheezing. She stood up and swiped the sand off her clothes. Or his expression was irritation, and she couldn’t blame him for that either. Laughing wasn’t the best thing she could have done.
“We encountered difficulties, O’Neill,” Teal’c said, getting to his feet as well.
Understatement.
“Yeah, so did we,” the colonel said, staring over at Daniel
Sam became uneasy. Now she couldn’t read his expression – lack of expression – at all. She supposed that in and of itself was a somewhat accurate interpretation. It was also no shock that the colonel and Daniel’s difficulties might have revolved around Daniel, though he looked okay now. Better than okay. Better than lying unconscious and feverish, or dead like she’d imagined.
“But we’ll swap stories later. Teal’c, you okay?” the colonel asked. “You look like you’re limping a bit.”
“I am fine.”
A slight untruth, but all things considered, a bum knee on a Jaffa was not a life-or-death issue. Sam kept her gaze on Daniel as they walked. It occurred to her, a little late, to wonder why Daniel hadn’t moved to check on them like O’Neill had. The fever, she thought a moment later, the fever had probably taken a lot out of him. She saw Daniel had the canteen propped against his hip and was relieved. She’d assumed the creatures had taken the canteen for that reason. Well, she hoped, really. Between the whole not thinking about how her friends might be dead or maimed, but they weren’t, so she should stop thinking about that now. She was a little dizzy, though she couldn’t say why. Too many things in her head.
“Daniel,” she said as she crouched down next to him. “How’re you feeling?”
He smiled at her, expression strange, like he didn’t really mean it. Okay, something was going on, and she thought she wasn’t going to like it when she found out what.
“I’m not, ah, I’m not feeling much of anything. Didn’t Jack tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Daniel can’t move his legs,” the colonel said.
The colonel crouched down as well, reaching for the small pile of branches near the fire. He scooped them up and tossed them onto the fire, sparks flying up. One landed on her thigh with a hiss, and a slightly acrid smell wafted from it. Big spark, she thought dully. She stared down at the black spot, trying to process the information she’d just been told. Her brain must be more affected by the dehydration than she’d thought, because it didn’t quite connect.
“Can’t move his legs,” she said.
“Yes, Carter. That’s right. Can’t move his legs, as in he’s paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Paralyzed.”
Calling parrot Carter. Her brain was thick. She didn’t really know why she kept repeating everything that was being said like she didn’t understand the meaning of the words. She understood. She just didn’t understand. Daniel looked fine. She plopped her butt down on the sand.
“I need to get more firewood,” the colonel said, stomping off.
She, Teal’c and Daniel sat there watching him go. Sam looked away when he disappeared into the underbrush, her gaze landing on Daniel’s legs. She knew what paralyzed meant, so she couldn’t possibly expect them to start moving, except she kind of did. She glanced up and saw Daniel watching her.
“It’s temporary,” Daniel said. “I’m sure it’ll go away.”
Daniel’s stomach growled, and so Sam stared at that part of his anatomy instead of his legs or his eyes. His eyes were filled with doubt that couldn’t be masked by the assurance he tried to give.
“What has transpired here, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c said, voice softer than Sam had heard it in a long time.
“I don’t really know, to be honest with you. I only know I woke up in the water and I couldn’t feel my legs.”
From Jungle Fever to Dinosaur Island to … this. She couldn’t play this off with a lame fake movie title. Actually, she shouldn’t have for the other things, either. There really wasn’t anything amusing about their situation at all.
“You just couldn’t feel your legs?” she said. Damnit, there she went stating the obvious again. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Sam tried to think of any Earth-based illnesses with similar symptoms, though she really hoped now Daniel’s illness hadn’t been contracted at the SGC. The only thing she could come up with was encephalitis, and the symptoms weren’t that similar at all. No debilitating headache, no unjustifiable confusion, no seizures that she was aware of, and the paralysis seemed to be too localized.
“Actually, it does.” Daniel sighed, an old and tired sound. “What happened to you guys?”
If it wasn’t an Earth-bound illness, then it could have come from anywhere, from anything. At any time. None of this made sense. Daniel hadn’t been anywhere the rest of the team hadn’t, so at least one of them should have started exhibiting the same symptoms. It was bad enough to have Daniel ill, but paralyzed? Sam didn’t know how to deal with that complication – it came with issues they were even less prepared to handle.
“The details of our venture are somewhat unimportant at this time, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said. “Of greater concern is your condition.”
Sam startled at the sound of his voice, pulled from her thoughts.
Daniel blanched, looking uncomfortable and very much like he didn’t want to talk about the specifics. Well, none of them seemed to want to do that, but all of them really should. An exchange of intel was necessary even when nobody wanted to hear it. Sam glanced back to where O’Neill had disappeared, seeing him emerge from the underbrush with an armful of sticks. The moon was setting. She doubted they really needed to feed the fire for much longer, and she hoped they wouldn’t be around for another night.
“We’ve all got stories to swap,” the colonel said, plopping the sticks down, “but some of us need to get some sleep. That means you, Carter. We need you to figure out what’s wrong with the DHD tomorrow.”
The DHD wasn’t the only thing in need of fixing.
“But – ” she started to say.
“Carter.”
There would be no discussing, apparently. She didn’t know how O’Neill expected any of them to rest with so many weighty unknowns looming over their heads. Despite her doubts, though, Sam did find herself yawning. She tried to hide it, keeping her lips tightly compressed while she formed a canyon in her mouth. That effort was a wasted one. Both the colonel and Teal’c caught her at it, and Daniel would have, except he had lain back down and was staring at the sky.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“I do remember you guys asking me if I knew what made me sick,” Daniel said, words rushed and detached.
The colonel stiffened.
Daniel must have noticed; he waved his hand a little. “I was just about to tell Jack this when you guys showed up.”
“It can wait, Daniel.”
“Maybe it can, but it won’t change anything if I don’t say it.”
“What is it you wish to tell us, Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c said.
Yes, what? Sam was just tired and concerned enough that the vague commentary between O’Neill and Daniel annoyed her. It was too late for Daniel to not say anything now.
“I think the Wiutehians are a parasitical society. There are those that have everything – the best schools, the best technology, the best standard of life,” Daniel said. He turned his head and looked at them, the strange smile back on his face. “And then there are those who have nothing, whose lives have been so devalued they are hidden from sight.”
“Only visited when the rich need something from them,” the colonel added. He grimaced and rubbed a hand across his mouth, like he could somehow scrub the words away.
Sam didn’t know why they were so upsetting to him.
“Which is why we weren’t welcome there.”
“The people in the ghetto thought we were going to take from them the same way Bajiar and his kind did.”
“Apparently they didn’t have to worry about that too much,” the colonel said.
“I don’t understand. They had nothing for us, or the Wiutehians to take,” Sam said. “How could the society be parasitical?”
“What do parasites do, Carter?”
“They use other forms of life purely for their own gain,” Teal’c said with distaste. “The Wiutehians are no better than the Goa’uld.”
Sam had a sudden memory of a crippled man, an intense moment. She finally found herself on the same page as her teammates, and it wasn’t a page she really wanted to read.
~~*~~
It was the looks of pity that Daniel couldn’t bear. He doubted any of them realized they were doing it, Sam being the worst offender, but that didn’t lessen his discomfort. The broad daylight made all the difference, set every expression that had probably happened last night into vibrant color. The two suns seemed to make everything that much brighter and clearer. Normally he appreciated clarity. Now he found himself resenting it.
“Are you doing okay out there, Sam?” Daniel said as she ducked down under the lean-to’s shade. He picked up the canteen and shook it. There wasn’t much left. “It’s getting warm.”
“I’m okay. I haven’t made much progress.” After an expected, brief, and pity-filled glance at his legs, Sam focused on the canteen. “To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what’s wrong with the DHD.”
He wouldn’t pull a Jack and assure her that she’d figure it out. The truth was she might not, and faith sometimes seemed a lot more like pressure than belief. She didn’t need that from him, not when Jack had prowled around her all morning. He was glad when Jack had announced he was going to canvass the nearby area for anything that might look edible or of any other use to them. He need the break, and he was positive both Sam and Teal’c did as well. Jack could be very aggravating.
“It could probably be about a million different things.”
“Yeah. I have one last thing to try with the DHD itself, then I’m going to have to dig deeper, literally,” Sam said. She bit down on the corner of her lip, eyes still trained on the canteen. “There’s not much left?”
“No.” He handed the water over to her. Her cheeks were a radiant pink. On any other occasion Daniel might have considered it an attractive look, but here it only spoke of exertion and heat. It increased his concern about their dilemma. “You should drink some.”
“You have no idea how much I want that.” Sam swiped a forearm across her sweaty brow. She shook her head, pursing her chapped lips together. “I think I can hold off for a little longer.”
“Sam,” he said. “Out of all of us, it’s most important that you don’t, as Jack would say, keel over.”
She nodded, but didn’t look happy. Daniel didn’t blame her. Their fate really did rest on her shoulders. So much for no pressure. He looked at her until she made eye contact with him, then gave her a smile he hoped was mischievous.
“At least not until we get home. The SGC is a ‘feel free to keel’ zone.”
Her eyebrows raised, and for a second he wasn’t sure if she’d taken his comment in the spirit it was intended. Then she said, “Oh, it is, huh?”
“Well, you know, medical help is readily available there, for one thing. Bang your head, bruise your bu, er, arm and Doctor Fraiser is right there.”
“Good point.” Sam chewed a piece of dried skin that had started to crack and peel away from her lower lip. She stopped worrying at it quickly, with a grimace. “We’ll get you there, Daniel, I swear.”
Don’t make promises, he almost said.
“I’m not the only one stuck here,” Daniel said instead.
Sam nodded, gave the canteen one last longing look, and went back out into the sun. She was putting too much pressure on herself, he realized. Jack had nothing on her. Daniel didn’t envy her task. The DHD seemed a more complicated piece of machinery than the Stargate itself; with the ‘gate, it came down to mechanics – replace a cog here, a bracket there. It had taken a team of scientists years to come up with the computer counterpart to the DHD. But what did he know? He was an archaeologist, not a … what was Sam’s specialty again? He could never remember it exactly. It probably wasn’t that relevant. He had already worn several different hats himself since joining SG-1.
His thoughts quickly returned to the Wiutehians – both affluent and destitute. He doubted the rich would allow anyone from Earth to set foot back on the planet. Even if they did, it could be disastrous. Daniel tried to imagine what it was like for that crippled man to regain some of his good fortune, assuming the transference went both ways, and then tried to imagine that on a broader scale. It wasn’t a pretty scene. He wished that he had more information about both sides of the story. Right now, everything he knew was based on conjecture, the meanderings of a man who was stuck looking at a ramshackle roof of twigs on a remote beach on some remote planet in the galaxy. What did he know, he thought again. He was a paralyzed archaeologist.
He was a paralyzed archaeologist with an itch right in the middle of his back.
Daniel rolled his arms and shoulders forward so most of his back was touching sand, then started rocking his upper body like a turtle caught on its shell might do. It wasn’t as effective as an actual scratch, but it would have to do. And then his right shoulder blade started to itch as well. He sighed. So this was how it was going to be for the rest of his existence. He teetered over to the right and scraped his shoulder blade against the sand.
“May I be of assistance, Daniel Jackson?”
Daniel thudded his torso flat down on his back again. It figured only Teal’c would manage to approach him without kicking up a telltale spray of sand. He squinted up. From his vantage point, all he could see was a looming, large body. Teal’c’s head was cut off from his vision by the roof of his shelter. He wondered if Teal’c could see his face if he couldn’t see Teal’c’s. He was tempted to cross his eyes or stick out his tongue to see what kind of reaction either would get. He got distracted by the very thought of the offer, though. Having a nice, strong set of fingers scratch at his itch would be heaven right now, and Teal’c was a less embarrassing candidate for that kind of help than either Sam or Jack.
“You know,” Daniel said. The itch in the middle of his back returned. “Since you offered, would you mind? It must be from lying in the sand for so long.”
Teal’c crouched down, face as inexpressive as ever; that couldn’t be how he really was, but the veneer he had was really polished well. Sometimes Teal’c’s stoicism set Daniel on edge. He welcomed it right now, especially since it was incredibly difficult to sit up without help from leg muscles. Teal’c gave him what he thought just might be a smile, grasped his shoulders with care, lifted and then braced him up with one hand planted just below the nape of his neck. The scratching began, and Daniel felt transported to some heavenly plane or existence. Teal’c had magic fingers.
“Ohhhh, right there, yeah,” Daniel said. Teal’c couldn’t be putting his full muscle into it. “Don’t be afraid to do it a little harder. I’m not made of bone … ohhh … china. Oooooooh, yeah, more like that. That’s niiiiiice. Feels so good.”
Teal’c was very prompt and responsive with things other than battling the Goa’uld. Daniel appreciated that about him. He didn’t want this little scratching session to ever end. Thankfully, Teal’c saw fit to cover every inch of his back and shoulders. Daniel relaxed into the scratching as if he were receiving a massage. He wondered if it would be too much to ask. But then Teal’c stopped. Daniel sighed.
“Do you require further stimulation?” Teal’c said.
At that, there was a bizarre resonance coming from behind the lean-to, accompanied by skittering along the wall. Daniel stiffened. Teal’c eased him back to the ground, and then remained very still, on the auditory hunt for whatever might be lurking back there. Daniel had a brief flash of what it might be like if the giant birds decided to be less tolerant of SG-1’s presence. Not pretty. Pretty much like their reception would be if they had to go back to Wiutehia, only with strong beaks and sharp talons.
His fears were unfounded. He recognized the strange sound at last.
“Jack?” he said.
Jack didn’t, probably couldn’t, answer him; he was too busy laughing. Daniel felt his cheeks flush, and not from the warm air temperature. He was right – Teal’c had been the ideal candidate for the job. Jack’s display of sophomoric mirth was proof enough of that. So he had made a few sounds easily misinterpreted as something a bit more risqué. It wasn’t really that funny. He rolled his eyes at Teal’c, who tilted his head a little and raised an eyebrow. Jack continued to chortle as he rounded the lean-to’s corner. Daniel arched his back and neck so he could give Jack an upside down glare, but lost heart when he saw how relaxed the laughter made the other man. He hadn’t been relaxed in what was probably days now, and if it was at Daniel’s own expense, then so be it. He pictured Jack walking along, minding his business and suddenly being bombarded by sounds that could have easily come from a soft porn movie. Not that he would know.
“Daniel Jackson required my assistance to scratch an itch,” Teal’c said, with total earnestness.
Jack’s laughter had been dwindling, but that set him off again. Teal’c only looked all the more puzzled. Damnit if Daniel didn’t feel the development of a laugh rise up from his belly into his chest. Okay, maybe it was that funny, and maybe it was okay to relax a little himself. With the exception of his lower half, he’d been pretty tense for the duration as well.
“Yeah, I got that,” Jack said. “Ne…next time you … you should get a room.”
“There are no rooms on this planet, O’Neill, nor do I understand the purpose of seeking one. I would scratch Daniel Jackson’s itch in any location if doing so would bring him relief.”
Jack collapsed as if his legs had suddenly become as useless as Daniel’s, falling on his rear. He wasn’t laughing so much as gasping for breath now. Daniel couldn’t help it – he chuckled a little himself. Teal’c continued to look perplexed, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d apparently figured out that every time he spoke was cause for Jack to deteriorate even further.
“I was merely attempting provide aid. I do not find your amusement appropriate,” Teal’c said, and started walking away. “I will assist Captain Carter now.”
“Awww,” Jack wheezed. “Teal’c’s p…outing.”
Daniel kept laughing quietly. Poor Teal’c. He’d have to explain that sometimes when people were under pressure for a sustained period of time that a seemingly random and insignificant event would be like a release valve, through which every range of emotion might escape. It was a far, far better thing for Jack to have stumbled across his and Teal’c’s scratching session than to have continued to let the bad stuff build. Unfortunately the more he thought about it, the faster his own amusement faded. Teal’c was right, of course. This wasn’t a laughing matter for any of them. Reason returned fully when he moved his arm and it bumped up against the near-empty canteen. He cleared his throat.
“We’re almost out of water again,” Daniel said.
Jack stopped laughing with a few last sighs.
“How’d the food hunt go?”
Jack took off his cap, scratched his head in a half-hearted ruffle and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he blew out a breath and drew the cap down so it almost obscured his whole face. That didn’t look very encouraging. The birds had to eat something, though he guessed knowing that hadn’t really been helpful in the search. Many birds ate bugs, and while humans could do the same, he’d rather be hungry for a bit. Grasshoppers weren’t his first choice, even the kind dipped in chocolate. Been there, eaten that.
“Well, we might have to raid the hatchery Carter and Teal’c said they found,” Jack said at last, “because there isn’t much else in the immediate area.”
“Oh, good idea.”
“I thought so. Nothing would cap off this mission better than being torn to pieces by a flock of giant pterodactyls.”
“Not that they’d be to blame if we were trying to eat their babies.”
“You’ve got a point,” Jack said, a trace of a smile returning to his face. “Can you imagine if chickens came that size? Oy.”
Daniel was starting to feel better again, at least emotionally. He could always count on Jack to try to keep things light even in the face of bleak circumstances. Besides, they’d run out of water before. For all they knew, the birds were keeping tabs on their progress; the only motivation Daniel had been able to figure for the water drop was to get SG-1 off the planet sooner. The birds seemed to like their solitude, and the quicker SG-1were gone, the quicker they’d have it. He ignored how hot his eyes felt and gave Jack a small smile.
“Attack of the fifty foot chicken?”
“Well, fuck a duck, yeah. You could say that.”
Daniel mouthed ‘fuck a duck’ and raised his eyebrows. Jack shrugged his shoulders as he unclipped his pack. He swung it around, plopping it on the sand in front of him. He began rooting through it, all business. The ability to joke and still be completely in charge of a situation was actually a quality Daniel admired in Jack. But fuck a duck?
“I found some berries that might be edible and plants that look like dandelions.”
“People put dandelions in salads all the time,” Daniel said, trying to sound optimistic.
“Weird people put dandelions in salads all the time, but needs must. We’ll have to do the Teal’c test for both. If his, you know, Goa’uld larva or whatever tells him it’s not good for him, then it’s probably not good for us.”
Daniel nodded. Damn, his back was starting to itch again. He concentrated on watching Jack lay out the meager foodstuffs, like that could somehow make him forget about the itch.
“Too bad you chased him away.” Daniel squirmed. It really was too bad.
“Hey, he didn’t take off until you laughed.”
“Yes, that’s right, blame me.” Daniel squirmed some more. He couldn’t help it, even though he knew no amount of squirming would work. Once he’d started, it seemed impossible to stop. “It’s all my fault.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked.
He noticed belatedly that Jack had stopped spreading out his wares. Daniel looked up and found Jack was staring at him, eyebrows visible above his sunglasses. He finished his squirm before stopping at a comfortable position.
“I itch. Lying around in sand all day does that.”
“Oh.” Jack’s eyebrows receded back down until they were hidden behind the shades. He frowned again and even though his eyes were covered, Jack looked Daniel up and down in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable. More than he was already, anyway. “Oh. You should have said something. Maybe if you lie on a jacket or two, that would help. Just sit up and I can put them down.”
“Easier said than do –”
“Yes, yes, YES!”
Sam’s emphatic shout cut Daniel off, and he was glad for the distraction. He didn’t like the idea of Jack having to help him with basic bodily functions. More than that, he just didn’t like the reminder of how helpless he was. Funny how he was fine with Teal’c’s help but not Jack…oh, god, he wondered what would happen when he had to go to the bathroom. He didn’t really want to think about that, or wonder if he’d even be able to tell when he had to go.
“Sounds like Teal’c’s worked his magic on another member of my team,” Jack said wryly. “And so fast. I wonder what his secret is.”
“Shut up, Jack, and go find out what’s going on.”
Jack nodded and took off. Daniel’s back didn’t itch anymore. Thoughts of embarrassing bodily functions and a tiny thread of incongruous cold traveling up his spine aside, things were looking up.
to chapter seven
no subject
no subject