What is Essential by babs and JoaG  Part Two

Daniel looked impatiently at the closed doors of the ISO room. Janet had said she'd get back to him soon but that had been over two hours ago.

They'd been stuck in isolation since their arrival several hours ago; Janet hadn't wanted to take a chance with contagion once the Hannarans had confirmed Jack was suffering from a local illness.

Jack coughed and shifted, pressing closer to Daniel. Jack was curled up on his side at the very edge of the bed, his hand clasping Daniel's tightly, even in his sleep. He'd only quieted once Daniel had moved his chair right alongside the bed so Jack could feel Daniel's tee shirt against his cheek.

Sam and Teal'c both sat opposite Daniel, occasionally touching the sleeping man as if to confirm he was really there. Daniel himself still couldn't believe that they had found Jack. The odds of finding him on that planet were unimaginable. Daniel was glad that he was wasn't a betting person because he was sure he'd just used up every scrap of luck the universe had blessed him with.

A gowned nurse came to check the IVs pumping fluids and meds into Jack's body and then proceeded to take his temperature, pulse and blood pressure. Jack didn't stir, although the first couple of times someone had tried to touch him, he'd flown into panicked struggles until Daniel had managed to talk him through his terror. Jack was sedated now, sleeping easily and quietly.

Daniel stroked the now familiar short hair on his lover's head; Janet had ordered his hair shorn and then cleansed with parasitical soap. Unfortunately, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c had had to do the same shortly after. Jack had been infested with alien lice. Daniel smiled to himself when he recalled the look on Sam's face when Janet had informed them of that. She'd grabbed the soap and booked for the showers before anyone could react.

The security doors opened and Janet entered the room accompanied by a short, bearded man. She wasn't gowned and she had a wide smile on her face. The stranger was wearing a colorful tunic over diaphanous pants; he was obviously from Hannara.

"We're not contagious?" Sam asked as Janet walked to the bed, the Hannaran following more slowly, curiously examining the medical equipment in the room.

"No, and thankfully neither is the colonel." She picked up Jack's chart and glanced at the information there before turning to the bearded man. “This is Zweegar. He’s one of the leading medics on Hannara. Their President gave him permission to come to Earth to have a look at the colonel and explain this wasting sickness.”

The man nodded cordially at Daniel and the others and smiled before turning his attention to Jack.

Janet removed a syringe from of her lab coat pocket. "We analyzed the drug the Hannarans gave us and I'm confident it'll cure the illness the colonel’s suffering from," she said as she injected the contents into an IV port. "According to Zweegar, and our own tests have confirmed this… Colonel O’Neill is suffering mainly from muscular degradation. The microorganisms attack the muscles and quickly weaken them up to a point where the person isn't able to move about on his own. Then the muscles begin to atrophy as the patient isn't able to move around and use them enough to keep up their muscle tone."

Janet put a hand on Daniel's shoulder, squeezing gently before continuing.

"It just goes to show how strong the colonel is; that he was able to survive despite the illness, the malnutrition, the beatings…"

“Very rarely has someone survived the sickness when it has progressed this far,” Zweegar said, walking around the bed and lifting the sheet, looking at Jack’s legs. “The illness always strikes the eyesight first; cloudy vision is the first symptom. Then fever and cough, with weakness in the legs following quickly. Very soon the patient does not have the strength to move their legs, then feebleness to the rest of their body follows suit. Death usually occurs at this point as they are unable to take water or nourishment. To be honest, your Colonel O’Neill is the first that I have seen to have survived the sickness when it has spread so far, although I have read of a few cases in other parts of Hannara.”

"So he's going to be all right?" Daniel asked in a hopeful tone, his mouth suddenly dry and feeling his heart begin to race.

“Our medicine always cures the wasting sickness in its early form. It will help your friend, of that there is no doubt, but he obviously will not be the person he used to be. His eyes, his legs… you must see that there is little hope for him.”

Daniel’s stomach plummeted sickeningly at the man’s words. He glanced at Janet and saw her lips tighten and her knuckles turn white as she gripped the metal edges of Jack’s bed.

“I’ve told you already, Zweegar, with the proper exercise and care, I’m confident that he’ll be restored to the same condition he was in before he got sick, or at least close to it. Colonel O’Neill was probably forced to use his muscles in order to survive. I've called for a specialist to examine him, but I'm very hopeful."

"He must have gone through hell," Daniel whispered, staring at Jack's gaunt face.

"What about his eyesight?" Sam asked.

Janet frowned slightly before she answered. "I don't know, I've never seen this before, and neither has Doctor Molinari. But since it's a symptom of the disease, I'm hoping it'll be reversed also."

Daniel knew Doctor Molinari was SG-1's resident ophthalmologist, who had been in earlier to examine Jack's eyes. Lowering his head in exhaustion, Daniel's free hand fumbled in his pocket and found the chain there. There was just so much wrong with Jack… even if the drug worked and cured him, would he ever walk again? He had confidence in Janet but he knew how deformed Jack's legs looked beneath the blankets covering him, and his speech…

"Janet, what about his speech?"

"That should improve also once he begins therapy. You do know that the face is comprised mostly of muscles, so if one can't use them…"

"Right," Daniel said.

"So you guys are free to go. I'm going to keep him here for the time being as the room is more peaceful than the ward."

Sam and Teal'c both stood up, but Daniel remained sitting.

"Daniel?" Sam questioned.

As he raised the hand which was clenched tightly in Jack's, with a wry smile Daniel said, "I'm not going anywhere."

"He'll sleep for several more hours, Daniel. He won't know you're gone," Fraiser said in a no-nonsense voice.

"I know," Daniel replied in a low voice. "But I… just need to be here as much as he needs me to be with him right now." He looked up at Janet beseechingly. "I won't wake him, I promise."

"That's not what I meant. You need to get some rest also. You've all had a shock when you found the colonel and I'm sure the past few hours have been pretty stressful on you. Take my word, he's going to recover."

"Please Janet, just for a little while?"

Janet shook her head in mock defeat and then smiled to take the sting out of her action. "Fine," she agreed. "Just make sure you get some rest, okay? Zweegar, I’ll escort you to the gateroom. I believe General Hammond wishes to speak to you before you return to Hannara."

"Thanks," Daniel said softly. Both Sam and Teal'c left the room and Daniel was left alone with Jack. He lowered his forehead onto the edge of the mattress and listened to Jack breathing, enjoying the sound he had never thought to hear again.

He was warm. He was clean. He wasn't sure where he was but he was warm and he was clean. He could feel warm blankets covering his legs, his torso. His head didn't itch anymore and the weight of filth was gone. There were voices, many voices, and he didn't want to believe them. The voices said he was safe. The voices said he was home.
He could smell Daniel, the scent of his aftershave, the unique scent of coffee and old books that was his lover. He didn't want to believe the smell either. He knew how quickly hope could be snatched away.

He was dying; he knew that. The sickness had robbed his strength day by day, inch by inch. First it had taken his vision, the blurriness he'd experienced giving way to increasing darkness. But he'd been able to find his way to the market where he could find some food. Then one day he'd woken unable to bear weight on his legs. Crawling at first and then finally having to drag his useless lower body around. The others told him the illness would progress further until he was unable to use his arms and finally unable to breathe. Each night, he'd prayed that the morning would not come for him, that he would simply sleep and not wake up. But he dreamed. Every night he'd dreamed. Daniel was with him and Jack stood beside him, tall and strong. His legs worked in his dreams; he could see Daniel's mobile face. His chest didn't hurt when he breathed. And in his dreams he was warm.

"No," a beloved voice whispered to him, breath moist on his ear, "you are not dreaming, Jack. You are not. I’m here. You are home."

A tear formed in his eye and he was unable to find the strength to move his hand to catch it. He didn't believe in dreams. It hurt too much to wake and find he was still on a planet he didn't know, still blind, still useless. It hurt too much to believe he would ever hear Daniel's voice again. But the voice was insistent, fervent, and sounding so real Jack felt he had to obey.

"Real. This is real, Jack. I'm real. You are home."

He wanted this dream to last. He wondered if he'd dream when he was dead; if Daniel would always be by his side and they'd laugh and love through eternity.

His hand was caught in familiar fingers; fingers that wrapped around his and held on tightly. Voice, hands, smell, all of Daniel with him while other voices and hands bombarded him with sound and prodding.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice was back, soft, gentle, firm, unyielding. "Do you know where you are?"

He wasn't sure. It was a dream but he wanted it to be real. Would speaking make it real?

"Do you know where you are, Jack? Can you tell me?"

"Hhhommme." Jack slurred out the word and prayed he'd never wake. He twisted his fingers in those familiar ones that felt so real. He wasn't letting go. He was never letting go. Jack squeezed Daniel's hand and felt a brief squeeze in return. Daniel's hand rested on his forehead, and Daniel's voice whispered for him to sleep. So he did.

"Daniel." Someone was shaking his shoulder. He straightened in the chair and looked around, spying Janet.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You needed it, Daniel." Janet kept her own voice quiet. "The colonel should soon be waking up. We're going to be doing some more tests on him today. We have a speech therapist who is going to test his ability to chew and swallow as well as his speech. Doctor Welkins will be further assessing the colonel's motor functioning. And Doctor Molinari wants to do some more vision assessment. I'm also planning on having an assessment done on his cognitive functioning."

"He's going to recover, you said." Daniel held on to those words from the day before.

"I have every reason to believe he will. But you need to understand, Daniel, we're looking at months of therapy. This isn't going to be easy for Colonel O'Neill."

Tilting his head, Daniel studied Janet a moment before resting his gaze on Jack. "He's strong, Janet. A survivor."

"I know. That's what I'm counting on." She smiled briefly and then patted him on the shoulder. "I'll be back in about a half an hour. I'm going to request you leave during the tests. General Hammond would like a report once you get some breakfast."

Daniel nodded, never taking his eyes off Jack. "I want to be here when he wakes up. So he knows where he is."

"Half an hour, Daniel," she repeated and then left the room.

"Jack?" Daniel whispered, leaning close to Jack's ear. "Come on, Jack. Can you wake up for me?" He rubbed his free hand over Jack's shoulder, realizing once again how very thin his lover had become. Jack gave a small cough and Daniel smiled as he saw Jack's eyelids flicker. Jack's movements were uncoordinated but he was definitely trying to wake up. "Jack." Daniel called again.

There was a gasp from the man on the bed and Daniel saw his eyes fly open. Jack twisted in the bed, his fearful panting starting to increase. Daniel stood, leaning over the bed, disentangling his hand from Jack's so he could place both hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Jack. Jack, it's Daniel. Listen to me."

"Dannnelll?" His name was barely recognizable but was said with such longing Daniel didn't for a moment doubt Jack's word.

"Yes, yes. It's me, Daniel." He took Jack's hand in his and placed it against his own cheek. "See? It's me."

"H…h…hooome?" Jack inched his fingers across Daniel's nose, slid them up and tugged on Daniel's glasses.

"Yes. Home. You're home." Daniel nodded, turning his head into Jack's hand.

"Wherhhoooom." Jack's fingers were trembling.

"You're at the SGC. In the infirmary."

"Colonel O'Neill?" Nurse Bailey said softly from where she stood at the foot of the bed. "I'm going to take your ankle now and begin the range of motion exercises."

Daniel had been sure Jack had understood Janet's explanation a few minutes ago, but the moment the nurse put her hands on Jack's leg, he began writhing and yelling, trying to evade her hold.

"Dannnelll!" Jack howled.

Daniel rushed to the bed and pulled the struggling man into a hug, holding him hard against his chest.

"Yes, yes, Jack. I'm here, it's okay, it's okay."

Jack snaked his arm around Daniel's back and gripped his tee-shirt weakly, burying his face in Daniel's shoulder as his exertions triggered his cough.

"It's okay," Daniel repeated. "That was just Nurse Bailey. Remember Janet told you that they were going to start exercising your legs before they freeze up completely?"

Jack didn't answer, but he did begin to relax.

"Jack, do you remember what Janet told you?" Daniel asked again.

He felt the slight movement of Jack's head against his shoulder, and he raised a hand to cup Jack's neck, ruffling the soft hair beneath his fingers.

"I'm going to put you back down, okay?" Jack nodded again, and Daniel lowered Jack back to the hospital bed.

Daniel looked at the young woman who had unwittingly initiated a panic attack. He raised his eyebrows and furrowed his brow, trying to think how to get Jack to accept a stranger's touch.

"Look, can we maybe do these exercises together?" Daniel asked Nurse Bailey. "If I kept my hands beside yours, would I be in your way? I think he'll recognize my touch, it might keep him calm."

"That's a good idea. You know, you could probably do these exercises for him instead of me. They're easy to do. I can show you if you're willing."

"Yes, I'm very willing," Daniel said with a smile, anxious to be able to do something to help Jack other than sitting by his side, holding his hand.

"Okay, we'll start with his feet and work our way up to his hips."

"Jack," Daniel said as he leaned over the nervous man, "I'm going to touch your feet now, okay?"

"Ssssss," Jack slurred.

Daniel walked over to the foot of the bed and picked up Jack's right foot, careful of the wounds he knew were beneath the bandages.

Nurse Bailey moved to stand beside Daniel. "First thing to remember is that everything should be done gently and slowly. Never force or overstretch a muscle. If it hurts him, stop immediately."

Daniel nodded as he gently massaged Jack's withered foot.

"Now place your hand here," she instructed, "and your other one here," she said, taking Daniel's hands and placing them in the proper positions. "Now you can rotate his ankle by doing this," she said, placing her hands over Daniel's and showing him the proper movement. "Yes, that's perfect. Slowly, that's it."

"Jack, you tell me if I hurt you, okay?"

"Kaaaay," Jack answered. Daniel took his eyes away from what his hands were doing and looked at Jack. He appeared to be relaxed, his head slightly tilted in Daniel's direction. Once in a while he hummed softly, which Daniel knew was Jack's way now of expressing pleasure when words failed him.

"Good," the nurse said after Daniel had done this several times. "Now we can do toe flexion and extensions." She showed Daniel where and how to place his hand over Jack's foot, just below the toes. "Move each toe forward and backwards, slowly," she instructed.

As Daniel did as he was bid, going through each exercise with the nurse's guidance, he saw how stiff and unyielding Jack's lower body was. Doctor Welkins had wanted to start with these gentle moves as soon as possible, limbering and loosening Jack's muscles and joints. The therapist hoped Jack would be able to do these range of motion exercises himself before long, which would be followed by muscle strengthening therapy soon after.

Daniel switched legs, beginning again at the ankle. Daniel listened to the nurse with half an ear while thinking of all the work that lay before Jack. He still needed to be evaluated by a speech therapist who would decide whether Jack needed to be fed through a nasogastric tube or not. Daniel hoped Jack would be considered well enough to take food on his own. He had seen what the tube looked like and hated the thought of it being forced into Jack's stomach.

He moved onto the hip exercises and Daniel could see that these were uncomfortable for Jack. Being extra careful, he moved Jack's leg slowly and gently.

"I'm nearly done," Daniel said to Jack when the man moved fitfully on the bed as Daniel changed legs. Daniel glanced at Nurse Bailey, who confirmed his words with a nod. "Only two more to go. I bet you'll be ready for a nap after this, huh?"

"Shhheeeep," Jack muttered, then inhaled deeply as he stifled a yawn. Daniel smiled to himself as he finished the last movement and pulled the blankets over Jack's wasted legs, then picked Jack's pillow up from the chair.

"Here," Daniel said as he lifted Jack's head and slipped the pillow beneath it. "You can rest now." Daniel sat down beside the bed as Jack pulled the blankets to his chin and turned onto his side, facing Daniel. He was asleep in seconds.

"I'll be back later this afternoon and we can do his upper body," Nurse Bailey said as she entered some notes in Jack's chart. "I know it looks a little discouraging right now, but you'll see a difference in a few days."

"Thank you," Daniel said to her, finally feeling he was helping in Jack's convalescence. Jack moaned in his sleep and Daniel brushed a finger along Jack's sunken cheek, shushing him. Daniel decided he was going to talk to Janet and see if he could do these exercises with Jack every day.

Jack had been fast asleep when Daniel left his bedside for an impromptu meeting with General Hammond and SG7. Three hours later, upon returning to the infirmary, he was upset to learn that Jack had had his first speech therapy while he'd been gone. Daniel had wanted to be there both to see what it was all about and to have his multitude of questions answered.

The colonel lay propped up on the bed, obviously tired as he fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. Jack was frowning, but managed to smile for Daniel when he heard his voice.

Daniel sat there gently rubbing Jack's arm, watching him fight to stay awake. Jack's yawns made Daniel realize how tired he himself was and he stifled one for the third time when Nurse Bailey approached him.

"Doctor Jackson, are you ready to continue with the colonel's exercises?"

"Now?" Daniel asked, surprised. Couldn't she see how tired Jack was?

"My shift is ending in an hour, and although someone else could do this with you, the colonel is already used to my voice. It would be easier on him to do it now and establish a routine right away."

"Um, okay," Daniel agreed, as he got up to stand beside the bed.

"Great. We'll start with his neck, then move on to his shoulder and elbow, forearm, wrist and then finish with hand and fingers. He's already drowsy so these exercises should put him right to sleep."

Performing the movements, Daniel noted how although Jack's upper body was stronger and more fit than his lower body, Jack was tired, cranky and irritable at the moment. Instead of relaxing him, the movements seemed to make him fidgety and impatient. Daniel had to keep talking to Jack to keep him from pulling his arm out of from Daniel's grasp.

Daniel was relieved when they reached the last exercise, taking Jack's hand in his. He gently bent Jack's hand into a fist as per Bailey's instructions, then straightened out his fingers. He spread Jack's fingers wide, one at a time, then brought them back together. He pinched Jack's thumb to each finger one at a time, then drew circles with the thumb.

When Daniel went to take Jack's other hand, Nurse Bailey stopped him.

"Seeing he has an IV there, maybe I'd better do this one."

He gladly let her take over; Daniel had been eyeing the IV and had been a little nervous about it.

She picked up Jack's hand and bent his fingers into a fist. Jack's reaction surprised them both when he forcefully pulled his hand from hers with a loud grunt, pushing it under the covers as if to hide it.

"Jack, we're almost done," Daniel said as he lifted the covers to take Jack's hand, passing it back to the nurse.

"Nnn…ooo," Jack said loudly when he felt her fingers touch his hand. He pulled back with more force than Daniel would have thought possible, his whole body tensing as he struggled to escape her hold. With a resigned sigh, she let go, not wanting Jack to hurt himself when he garbled, "Ooo waay," loudly.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asked as he patiently dug out Jack's hand, which had again been thrust under the covers where Jack had curled up around it and wedged it between his thighs. Daniel examined the IV, grateful to see that it hadn't been disturbed. "You know Nurse Bailey; she was here this morning, remember? We did the same thing with your legs. Why do you want her to go away?"

"It's okay, Doctor Jackson," she said with a smile, patting Jack's leg. Jack grunted and shifted his hips, trying to escape her touch. "He's just tired," she added.

She took Jack's hand once more and this time Jack flew into a frenzy. He twisted and squirmed with violent movements, almost falling out of the bed in his attempts to avoid her touch, all the while coughing violently.

"O'Neill!"

Daniel heard Teal'c's voice and soon the large man was helping restrain Jack. Daniel managed to push Jack's shoulders back onto the bed while Teal'c helped Nurse Bailey hold his hips steady. At Daniel's touch, Jack finally calmed a little, curling himself up in a ball. Daniel could hear Jack's breath wheezing slightly as he put a hand to Jack's shoulder and rubbed circles around the bony joint, talking softly to keep Jack calm.

The commotion brought Janet rushing to them, but as Jack had calmed down quickly, she simply took a perfunctory look at him. Jack cleared his throat a few times and his breathing eased.

"He's fine. Just let him rest," she advised, beckoning the nurse to come with her and tell her exactly what had happened.

"Dannnulll," Jack's distorted voice moaned before he coughed again.

"I'm here, Jack," Daniel said, leaning over the frightened man. Jack's hand came out timidly, and pulled back a moment when his fingers touched Daniel's face. They traveled over his glasses before caressing Daniel's cheek. Daniel took Jack's hand in his, stroking the dry skin before placing it back onto the bed.

"Thanks Teal'c," Daniel said, turning his attention to his friend while still breathing heavily from both nerves and his exertions.

"What has occurred here?"

"Jack had a little panic attack again, but he's okay now, aren't you, Jack."

"Eeeeeeek," Jack said, his hand reaching out in front of him. Daniel nodded at Teal'c's inquiring look, and lowered his face so Jack could touch him. Jack's fingers flitted over Teal'c's face, then stopped to trace his tattoo several times before he brought his hand down and tucked it beneath his pillow.

Daniel kept his hand on Jack's shoulder and soon felt him begin to relax. It wasn't long before Jack was dozing. Daniel got up, asking Teal'c to stay with Jack a moment, and went in search of Janet, a worried thought going through his mind. He saw Teal'c place a hand on Jack's back and Jack sighed contentedly at the touch.

"Hi," she said, looking up from her computer when Daniel knocked on the door to her office.

"Hi," Daniel replied automatically as he leaned against the doorjamb.

"About what just happened…" Daniel began. He saw the petite woman's expressive brown eyes looking at him and he had to look away. He couldn't help comparing them to Jack's, hating her for a moment because she could see out of hers and Jack couldn't.

Janet waited patiently for him to continue and he forced himself to put the fear he was experiencing into words. He started off slowly but soon he was stumbling over himself in his rush to have his concern either confirmed or assuaged.

"Janet, do you think Jack might be suffering from brain damage? He wasn't really comfortable with someone other than me touching him earlier today, but he seemed to not recognize Nurse Bailey this afternoon. I mean, he remembers me, that's not a problem, but he can't seem to remember or differentiate between nurses and doctors; sometimes he's okay and at other times he's like what happened today."

"The thought did occur to me," Janet said truthfully once Daniel stopped to take a breath, "but I'm fairly certain that part of his fear and confusion is due to his debilitated condition and malnourishment." She smiled at Daniel, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "We're feeding him highly concentrated IV solutions to try and make up for this. I'm confident that in a short time we'll see a huge improvement in the colonel."

"Oh, so there's no brain damage?"

"I didn't say that, I said that I'm fairly certain there isn't, but we'll be keeping a careful eye out for this over the next few days. I know his behavior is a little abnormal but he has been through a hell of a time. I'm sure you've noticed he's more lucid now than he was during the first couple of hours he was brought back."

Daniel realized she was right. Most of the time Jack did know he was home and that the people around him were either friends or caregivers.

"There's another thing," Janet said. Daniel sighed, knowing from her tone that it wasn't good news.

"We're going to see if we can get him to take nutritional supplements orally. Doctor Diallo thinks Colonel O'Neill can swallow liquids well enough but we're not sure whether he can drink enough to satisfy the amount of caloric requirements needed for the next few days. If he can't swallow properly we'll have to put a nasogastric tube into him until he's strengthened throat and his facial muscles enough to eat."

"He's going to hate that," Daniel supplied. Janet grinned at him. She knew Jack just as well as he did and had seen him at his worst more times than Daniel had.

"He's already had a bit of the supplement. When he wakes up, see if you can get him to drink as much as he can stand."
"Okay, I can do that." Daniel nodded.

Returning to Jack's bed, he noticed the plastic glass containing white liquid on the table beside Jack. He picked it up, smelled it, then dipped a finger and tasted the stuff. It tasted faintly of vanilla and didn't seem too unpalatable. Jack wouldn't mind drinking this stuff that much.

Daniel removed his glasses, Jack's fingers had smeared the lenses, and he wiped them on his shirttails. He replaced his glasses and sighed, waiting for Jack to wake up.

"Come on, just a little more," Daniel urged, holding the glass to Jack's mouth. Jack irritably raised a hand to push the drink away and Daniel moved the glass before Jack could actually touch it.

"Jack, you need to drink this stuff."

"Aaaaarrrr" he tried to say.

"I know it's hard to swallow but you need the food and believe me, this is better than the alternative. Come on, just a little more." Daniel eyed the glass whose contents had barely shrunk. Jack was having problems swallowing, although Daniel was sure the fact that Jack was so tired wasn't helping much.

Pouting, Jack allowed Daniel to tip some of the contents into his mouth and he tried to swallow. Some of the liquid ran out of his mouth and down his chin. Daniel wiped the dribble with a Kleenex and offered Jack more when he managed to force the mouthful down.

Daniel wasn't sure what happened next; whether the stuff simply went down the wrong way or Jack had needed to cough. But suddenly Jack was choking and coughing, liquid spewing all over Daniel and the bed. Jack began turning red from his efforts, coughing so harshly that one of the nurses came over to see if she could assist.

Hurriedly Daniel put the glass down onto the table and pulled Jack forward into a sitting position. Jack continued coughing and suddenly he was vomiting the bit of sustenance he'd managed to ingest over the past hour.

He coughed a while longer, leaning heavily against Daniel, totally exhausted.

"Daniel," Janet said from beside him. "We'll clean him up. You'd better go and take a shower and change your clothes."

Surprised, Daniel realized that Jack had not only soiled himself and his bed, but Daniel also.

"It's okay, Janet, I can help with Jack first."

"My people are more than capable of taking care of Colonel O'Neill, Daniel," she said in a steely voice. "I need you to go and clean yourself off and change your clothes. While you're at it I want you to stop at the commissary and eat something. You've been here long enough and you need a break."

Daniel opened his mouth to protest as Teal'c helped Janet's nurses lay Jack down onto the bed, but she glared at him.

"Don't make me force the issue. He's fine and will most likely be asleep by the time you get back, but I assure you I will not hesitate to keep you out of here if you don't listen to my suggestions."

"Yes ma'am," Daniel said meekly. He turned away to leave as the nurses began stripping Jack of his clothes.

"And Daniel?" He stopped to look at her.

"I think we'll be putting the nasogastric tube in tomorrow morning. He's not taking in enough nutrition."

Daniel nodded sadly. Jack was so gonna hate that tube.

Daniel winced as Jack gagged as he swallowed the nasogastric tube. Jack's eyes were tightly closed, but he was squeezing Daniel's hand painfully in the process.

"Colonel, am I hurting you?" the nurse asked as she stopped pushing the pre-measured length of tubing down Jack's esophagus through Jack's right nostril.

"Noooo," Jack slurred, his raspy voice sounding more nasal than normal.

"Good," she replied as she resumed her work. Finished, Daniel watched with interest as she checked the placement of the tube. Then she picked up a penlight and tongue blade. "Open your mouth now for me, please," she requested. She had a look down Jack's throat and clicked the penlight off. "Looks good," she said with a smile, taping the tube in place. "You can relax now, Colonel. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jack relaxed from his upright sitting position and leaned back against his pillows, his hand still tightly grasping Daniel's.

"You okay?" Daniel asked. Jack nodded, his eyes still closed. Daniel was relieved that Jack was beginning to respond to other people, but he was still prone to panic attacks if Daniel wasn't near him. General Hammond and Janet had granted Daniel special dispensation to stay with Jack, at least until the ailing man was a little stronger and less confused. Jack reacted well to both Sam and Teal'c but still needed to have Daniel nearby. At least Jack now knew where he was, although he'd woken up twice from nightmares and it was only Daniel's voice and touch that had been able to calm him down.

"Don lak," Jack slurred, bringing his hand up towards his nose. Daniel moved quickly and captured the errant hand before it could fiddle with the tubing.

"I know you don't like it but it's only for a few days," he said, placing Jack's hand back onto the bed and rubbing it gently before letting go. "Janet explained everything, remember? We need to get some nutrients into you and the tube and IV are going to do that. As soon as you can eat and swallow properly it's coming out."

"Poh… mish?" Jack opened his eyes and turned towards Daniel, his unseeing eyes staring unsettlingly at a space to the right of Daniel's face.

"I promise, Jack," Daniel answered, bringing his free hand up and gently rubbing the area around Jack's nose where the tube was taped down. "You'll begin to feel a lot stronger with this and you won't be hungry anymore."

Jack sighed, then tensed as he heard footsteps approaching. The nurse was back and she was carrying a bag that Daniel assumed contained Jack's liquid food.

"Okay, Colonel O'Neill, I'm going to give you your lunch now," she said with a smile. Daniel watched with interest as she attached the bag of liquid nourishment to the end of the tubing and fiddled with the mechanism to begin pumping its contents into Jack.

"Make sure your head remains elevated, all right?" she added. "Colonel?" she said more loudly when Jack didn't react. He grunted slightly, turning his head slightly towards her. "Make sure you don't lie down flat, okay?"

Jack nodded, then turned his head back to center.

She looked over at Daniel. "If he feels the need to sleep, just make sure his head is propped up."

"Okay," Daniel said.

"If he can tolerate this for the next four hours, we'll slowly increase the quantity. He desperately needs the calories. Let me know if he feels any discomfort," she added after watching Jack sit there quietly for a few minutes.

"Of course."

"Shood ashed f beeeee," Jack mumbled with a slight smile on his face.

Daniel broke out in laughter at Jack's words, the tension he'd felt over the past day easing a little at the glimpse of the old Colonel. Jack chuckled softly, ending with a cough. The nurse stood there, smiling politely, obviously not having understood Jack. Daniel translated Jackspeak for her.

"He said he should have asked for beer."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry, sir, I can't give you that unless we're serving liquefied pizza. Maybe you'll be luckier tomorrow."

"Pisha gooh."

"Yeah, I know you like pizza. And I promise as I'll get you some as soon as you're up to it."

"N beeee?"

"Beer too. We'll make it a team night, okay? Invite Sam and Teal'c and watch videos?"

The moment he'd said it, Daniel wished he could take it back. Of course Jack couldn't watch videos, he couldn't bloody see anything.

"Dan… ull!" Jack tugged on Daniel's hand.

"Sorry, I didn't think…"

"Dan… ull!" Jack repeated, moving their clasped hands to his abdomen and rubbing the back of Daniel's hand with his free one.

"Be kay. Sand?"

"Yeah, everything will be fine. I understand, Jack." He leaned his face closer, pretending to look at the feeding tube affixed to Jack's nostril. "I love you, Jack. Everything will be fine 'cause we'll make sure it is."

Jack nodded, closing his eyes once more. His hand soon relaxed its grip on Daniel as he slipped into sleep.

"Doctor Jackson, Doctor Fraiser would like to speak with you in her office."

The nurse's words sent a chill down Daniel's spine but he nodded and smiled at her as he changed direction. Instead of heading for Jack's bed, he made for the small office that was Janet's domain, casting a glance in Jack's direction and reassuring himself that his lover was fine.

As he stood in the doorway, Daniel looked at the petite doctor sitting before her computer absorbed in the data flickering on her monitor screen. An empty cup of coffee and the discarded plastic wrap of a pre-packaged sandwich littered her desk, along with a piece of half-eaten pie. He felt guilty knowing she hadn't had a proper meal, whereas he had just had a hot supper and good companionship with Sam and Teal'c. The fact that Janet had ordered him out of her infirmary once more wasn't really important. He should have insisted she come with him. He made a mental note to do so the next time.

He cleared his throat to get her attention.

She didn't greet him with a smile, which didn't bode good news. His intuition at the nurse's words was soon confirmed by Janet.

"Colonel O'Neill appeared to have some kind of flashback a short while ago," she began after turning her chair to face him.

"Why didn't someone come and get me?" Daniel demanded as he took two steps into her office.

She shook her head. "There wasn't enough time. By the time we'd realized what was happening, the colonel managed to pull out his feeding tube and we had to sedate him to get him to calm down."

"Sedate him?" Daniel's legs suddenly felt weak and his meal became an uncomfortable leaden weight in his stomach.

"Just enough to relax him. We reinserted the tube and he's resting comfortably."

"Do you know what triggered the flashback?" Daniel asked, looking at his feet.

"Someone dropped a bedpan. I think the noise might have startled him. I'm really not sure, he won't talk to me. I thought maybe you could try and get him to open up a little. Even if he won't talk to you about the events of what happened to him on that planet, at least get him to tell you what he's feeling. He's holding everything inside, Daniel."

"Janet, he can barely string two words together. How do you expect him to tell me what happened to him?"

She smiled at him at this point. "Somehow I don't think that'll be a problem. You seem to know what he needs with just a look from him."

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen now, is it?" he said moodily before turning to return to Jack's bedside.

The head of Jack's bed was still slightly elevated and Daniel knew Jack was finding it uncomfortable to sleep. But until the tube that was delivering sustenance to him was removed, Jack needed his head and shoulders to be elevated.

Daniel wasn't sure if Jack was sleeping; his eyes were shut. But for the past day Jack had been keeping them closed on purpose whenever he thought someone was around. He was lying on his back and looked like he was asleep.

"Jack?" Daniel said softly. Jack's eyes opened, then closed again. Daniel just had time to see that the pupils were dilated; probably due to the drugs Jack had been given.

"Janet told me you had a bit of a scare. You wanna tell me about it?" Daniel reached out and ran a finger along the edge of Jack's thumb, then continued on, following the outline of Jack's hand as if he were tracing it onto a piece of paper. Jack's fingers twitched and as Daniel's began making a return trip, Jack closed his palm over his lover's finger.

"Did something startle you? Did you remember something from the time when you were beat… were captured?" Daniel stammered.

"Nnnnooooo..sss."

"Noise? You heard a noise?"

Jack nodded.

"Janet said someone dropped something. That was probably what you heard. Did the noise remind you of something that happened on Hannara?"

"Nnnoooo," Jack replied. "Eeee…foooo."

Daniel couldn't quite make out the last word, and Jack repeated it.

"Before Hannara?" Daniel guessed.

"Eessss."

Daniel sat up straighter. "The aliens who hurt you? The ones who made us think you were dead?"

Jack nodded.

Daniel rubbed his free hand over his face. For some reason he'd thought Jack had been unconscious or at the brink of death when the aliens had taken Jack off world.

"What did you remember?" Daniel asked softly.

Jack let go of Daniel's finger and waved at the tube in his nose. Daniel brought his hand up as a precaution in case Jack tried to pull the tube out again but Jack dropped his hand back down onto the bed. Then it dawned on him that Jack meant he remembered the tube.

"You remember the aliens putting something in your nose?"

"Nooo," Jack said. This time he pointed to his mouth and down his throat.

"They put something down your throat?" Daniel asked, feeling sick at the thought.

"Eessss," Jack answered.

"Do you know why? What they did it for?"

"Leeean," he said. Daniel noted Jack's hands were clenched tightly and he placed his hand over one shaking fist.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, Jack."

"Leeean," Jack repeated. Daniel repeated the word softly to himself several times, trying to decipher what Jack was trying to say.

"Nooo," Jack said when Daniel repeated the word again. He unclenched his fist and grabbed Daniel's forearm. "Kaaa… leeean," he said, trying to intonate the syllables clearly.

"Clean?" Jack nodded, letting go of Daniel.

"But clean what? They put a tube into your stomach and cleaned you out? You mean they pumped your stomach?"

"Esss, noooo. Alll."

"All? You mean they gave you a… they made you…?" Thoughts of gastric lavages and laxatives flitted through Daniel's mind and he paled when Jack waved his hand at his mouth and then his butt.

"Shit!" Jack snorted, but Daniel didn't find it funny.

"Sssleee," Jack said.

"Oh, okay, I'll let you get some rest," Daniel said. He could see Jack was more relaxed with the sedative but the drug was affecting his limited speech.

"Nooo!" Jack slapped the bed angrily and pushed himself so he was lying on his side facing Daniel. "Mmmmaaak Sssseee."

Cursing himself for misunderstanding, Daniel said, "They gave you something after to make you sleep?"

Jack nodded. "sstttrrr gaaaay."

"They brought you through the Stargate?"

Another nod.

"To Hannara?"

"Noooo." Jack's voice was softer and Daniel suspected that the drug was beginning to wear him down.

"So you went to another planet. Was this where they sold you?"

"Esss," he answered after a moment. Daniel saw Jack's eyelids begin to close before Jack forced them open again.

"Do you remember which Hannaran bought you?" Daniel asked, thoughts of returning to that planet and exacting revenge beginning to sound like a plan. His hand slid into his pocket and played with the piece of warm metal and chain.

"Noooo. Slleee…peee."

"They continued to drug you?"

Jack's head moved slowly up and down. His eyes shut slowly and remained closed for a few moments. He twitched suddenly and his eyes snapped open, his head moving in small, jerky movements.

"Shhh, I'm here," Daniel said. "Go to sleep."

Jack shook his head, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes tiredly. Daniel suspected Jack was afraid of going to sleep and reliving those early memories. He looked so vulnerable and miserable laying there before him that Daniel ached to do something to make him feel better.

He realized that since they'd brought him home, Jack had spent most of his time in that hospital bed with only the impersonal touch of caregivers. Jack's family was sitting right before him and due to regulations, Daniel couldn't do much of anything to comfort Jack except for an occasional hand-holding. Damn them, this had gone on long enough. Daniel stood up quickly, the chair rolling backwards and bumping into a metallic table behind him.

Jack jumped at the sound and Daniel apologized. He walked around the bed and grabbed the edge of the privacy curtain and began pulling it. Just before he enclosed himself and Jack within its confines, he spotted Janet looking at him. He caught her eye and she nodded. Daniel smiled his thanks, knowing they'd be left alone for as long as possible.

"Jack, hang on, I'm going to lift you up a bit," Daniel said once he took his boots off. He climbed onto the bed and lifted Jack's upper body, sliding himself beneath him. He lowered Jack's head and shoulders onto his lap, pulling the covers up to Jack's chin. Taking advantage of the fact that they were hidden from prying eyes, both human and mechanical, Daniel leaned down over Jack and kissed him on the temple.

Daniel told himself he was doing this for Jack and tried to ignore the satisfaction that came from feeling Jack's weight and warmth against his own body.

"Go to sleep. I'll be right here if you have any more dreams." Daniel stroked the silver hair, feeling the man he loved beginning to relax. Daniel heard Jack humming softly for a minute, until the sound faded as he drifted into sleep.

Daniel gulped down the last of his coffee as he got up from the table.

"Daniel, sit here a little longer," Sam pleaded. "Colonel O'Neill is probably asleep again." She frowned at him and Daniel knew she was assessing him. "Speaking of sleeping, how many hours have you gotten since we've brought the colonel home?"

"I've slept enough." Daniel loaded her plate and mug onto his tray, waiting until she stood. He was sleeping, not much more than cat naps snatched when Jack was deep in a sedated sleep because he never knew when Jack would cry out in pain or fear. Jack was alive and he needed Daniel. Once Jack was more stable, maybe then he'd be able to relax a little more. In the meantime, fewer hours sleep weren't going to matter.

"I have a meeting with SG-9," Sam said as they walked to the elevator after depositing their trash. "I'll come down to the infirmary in a few hours to give you a break."

Nodding, Daniel watched Sam get in the elevator and then decided to take the three flights of stairs to the infirmary. He didn't understand how he could be tired and have so much energy.

Jack had been moved to a regular bed in the infirmary yesterday afternoon. They hoped the more familiar surroundings might help Jack adjust to being home. The Hannarans hadn't been able to give a timeline for recovery. Daniel feared they were looking at months of therapy. Jack's first session of physical therapy earlier in the day had left him exhausted and in pain. Daniel hoped Jack managed to sleep.

"Doctor Jackson," Daniel looked up and saw Doctor Molinari coming out of Jack's room with a clipboard. "May I have a few moments?"

"I should really get to Jack." Daniel gestured to the door.

"Doctor Fraiser's ordered a few more tests," Doctor Molinari said. "I'd like to give you an update on the colonel's condition."

"Yes," Daniel followed Molinari down the hall and into a small room the nurses and doctors used for a lounge. "How is he? His eyes?"

"As you know the film dissipated rapidly following the administration of the Hannaran drug. Unfortunately the drug does not appear to have made any difference in the colonel's ability to see. The drug the Hannarans provided us has usually been administered to less advanced cases. Frequently vision problems are a lasting effect of the disease. They've never used the drug on someone with a case of the disease as advanced as Colonel O'Neill's."

"So why don't they give him more of it?" Daniel asked. There was no way he was giving up on Jack.

"Doctor Fraiser's tests have indicated a higher dosage or continued usage of the drug would be fatal and cause organ failure. I'm sorry Doctor Jackson. Coupled with the crystal you described the priests on P3U-863 used on Colonel O'Neill, I have every reason to believe the vision loss is permanent. I suggest we schedule a time to discuss the ramifications of these lasting effects with Colonel O'Neill."

Daniel touched his pocket, feeling the chain there. He rubbed a finger over the links, pressing them into his thigh. He met Doctor Molinari's kind gaze. "Could we hold off a few more days? Jack's been through a lot the past week. I think he might need a little more time to get used to the routine of being home."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, Doctor Jackson." Doctor Molinari smiled. "I realize this is hard to accept and that Colonel O'Neill will have difficulty too. But the sooner he is informed, and the sooner he begins therapy, the better. It may seem like it now but blindness is not the end of Colonel O'Neill's life." The beeper on the doctor's lapel went off. "I'm sorry, Doctor Jackson, I have another appointment."

Waving off the doctor, Daniel sat at the table. What were they going to do now?

The hushed sounds meant it was night in the infirmary, Jack knew. The worst part of not being able to see anything yet meant Jack lost track of time. He counted time by his meals, if that was what they could be called. He was sick of rice and applesauce but Doc promised him in the morning he could have some eggs to see if his stomach could tolerate them. His legs ached tonight; the therapy session he'd had in the PT room had been exhausting, learning to use a walker to help support his still weakened body. Soft footsteps sounded near his bed.

"Daniel?" Jack asked, then remembered the argument between Doc Fraiser and Daniel earlier, right around supper time. Daniel was sent packing to spend one night off-base.

"Sorry, Colonel, just me." Doc's quiet voice washed over him. She leaned over the bed and adjusted his blankets, tucking them around his legs. Jack reached out, closing his fingers around her wrist, holding on.

"Colonel? Is something wrong? Are you in pain?"

Jack rolled his head on the pillow, towards her voice. "No. But Doc, I," his mouth went dry and he heard his own harsh breathing as he tried to gain control of the fear beginning to overwhelm him. "No one will tell me. My eyes. I remember seeing the film on others on Hannara. They were blind. But now that goop is gone, Doctor Molinari said it is, but…"

"There's been no improvement," she finished for him. "You can distinguish between light and dark but see nothing."

"Yes," Jack whispered. "Is it…" he waved a hand around his face.

"Yes, sir. Our contact with the Hannaran medical community leads us to believe the blindness is permanent."

"I see," Jack said, then gave a harsh laugh. " Well no, bad choice of words. I guess I don't and won't ever again."

"I'm sorry, sir." Fraiser sounded sad, defeated. "We should have told you earlier."

"Daniel doesn't want to accept it, does he?" Jack was amazed he sounded so calm considering he'd just been told his whole life had been thrown into a tailspin.

"It's very difficult for him, Colonel." He felt Fraiser tugging on the blankets some more. "He wants to believe we have some miracle up our sleeve."

"Hell, I'd take a miracle or two, Doc." Jack hated the sound of bitterness in his voice. He took a deep breath. "So where do I go from here?"

"You will need rehabilitation, sir; training to learn how to get around, how to adapt to your blindness. I can request someone come here to get you started as soon as possible."

Fraiser's calm, matter of fact tone helped slow Jack's breathing. "I don't really have a choice but to learn to live with it do I?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." He could almost hear her smile and imagined her eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Call them. Call whoever you need to." Jack's words exploded, needing to say them before he lost the small amount of courage he possessed. He tightened his grip on her wrist slightly. "And Janet?"

"Yes sir?"

"Thanks for telling me the truth." He loosened his fingers and released her wrist. She patted his hand when he placed it on top of the blankets.

"It's my job, colonel," she said. "And, sir?" Jack nodded, closing his eyes. "Jack," she whispered, "I have faith in you."

He listened to the tap of her heels as she took a few steps away and then the swooshing sound as she pulled the privacy curtain around the bed. Jack curled up on his side, pressing his face into the pillow to stifle the tears he couldn't hold back. Oh God, he was so scared.

Putting his hand in his pocket, Daniel rubbed the bit of metal he carried with him all the time. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he waited for the elevator to stop on the infirmary level. He'd gone to Jack's house last night after leaving the base, packing a bag with some of Jack's most comfortable old clothes. Janet had told him yesterday that although Jack wasn't able to leave the base yet, she was ready to move him out of the infirmary and into a VIP suite. She was hopeful Jack would be strong enough to go home by the end of the week. They'd agreed to keep it a secret until this morning, a nice surprise for Jack after all his hard work in therapy. Maybe it would help the increasing irritation and impatience Jack was exhibiting. He knew it wasn't only the weakness of Jack's body; sessions with Mackenzie usually had Jack silent for hours afterwards. Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose as he began the walk to the infirmary doors.

"Jack?" Daniel kept his voice quiet as he approached Jack's bed, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping. Jack lay curled up on his side, his hands curled in loose fists to his chest.

"Hey, Daniel," Jack whispered.

Daniel frowned at the hoarse quality of Jack's voice, praying that Jack wasn't getting sick. He touched his lover's forehead, relieved to feel his temperature was normal.

"Are you sick, Jack?" Daniel hooked a chair with his foot, pulling it closer and sitting down. "You have therapy in about half an hour." Daniel noted the tray still sitting on Jack's rolling table. "Do you want me to get a nurse?"

Jack shook his head. His eyes were open, staring straight ahead, missing the animation that had always characterized them before Hannara. "Doc told me. I asked her and she told me."

"Asked her?" Daniel leaned forward and then straightened, his stomach tightening as he realized what Jack meant. "What did she tell you?" He clenched his hands into fists so tight they hurt.

"This, Daniel." Jack gestured at his eyes. "She told me it's permanent. I'm blind."

"We don't know if it's permanent," Daniel insisted. His voice sounded calm despite his pounding heart. "Doctor Molinari and Janet admitted they don't know what's causing it."

"Doctor Molinari was here earlier, Daniel," Jack said in a weary voice. "He might not know what caused it, the reasons the disease affected my vision or if that damn crystal did some sort of lasting damage, but he gave me a very thorough exam."

"Your vision has improved since you've come home. Since the treatment you received."

"No, Daniel. Whatever that goop was coating my eyes has disappeared. That's it. There's been no improvement in my vision. I have no vision. I only can tell if it's light or dark. That's all." Jack sighed. "Doc Fraiser said she'd be contacting some rehab specialists. Get me started on learning how to live as a blind man."

Daniel shook his head, hating the resigned tones of Jack's voice. No, he wasn't ready to give up. Jack had survived so far, surely he'd gain back his sight. Daniel couldn’t talk, afraid if he tried his words would be incoherent.

"Good morning, Colonel O'Neill." Daniel looked up as one of the physical therapists came to the bed. "Are you ready for your morning session?"

Jack nodded, pushing back his blankets and then sitting, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. Daniel lowered his eyes studying Jack's long legs, the feet that still turned slightly inward. The therapist bent down, placing slippers on Jack's feet and helping him off the bed. Jack's right leg buckled. Daniel reached out his hands to help but the therapist had Jack seated on the wheelchair before Daniel was out of his chair. "We're going to work some more with the walker today, sir," he heard the therapist say as he began wheeling Jack away, continuing to inform Jack of the day's schedule.

Glancing at his watch, knowing he had an hour before he needed to be at the briefing with General Hammond and SG-12, Daniel walked to Janet's office. She still had a few hours left on her shift, he figured.

"Daniel," Janet smiled as he opened her door, "were you able to speak to the colonel before he went to therapy today? Discuss the plans for him to go to the VIP suite?"

Shaking his head, Daniel walked to her desk, slamming his hands down on top of the folders stacked there. "Why did you do it, Janet? Why did you take away all of Jack's hope by telling him the blindness is permanent? Have you seen him this morning? How depressed he is?"

"Hold it right there, Doctor Jackson." Janet stood, leaning over the desk towards Daniel. "I am a doctor. It's my job to inform my patients of their medical status."

"You didn't have to tell him it was permanent," Daniel yelled.

"I had to tell him the truth, Daniel. Whether you agree with it or not." Janet's voice rose to meet his. "It wasn't Colonel O'Neill's hope I took away, it's yours."

His legs shook at her words, his body filled with impotent rage and the knowledge she spoke the truth.

"Sit down before you fall down, Daniel," Janet commanded, coming from behind her desk and pushing a chair in his direction. He did as she bade and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands.

"I thought he'd be able to see, Janet," Daniel whispered. "I thought the medicine would cure him. It's not fair. Not after everything he's been through." He moved his fingers trying to surreptitiously wipe away the few hot tears burning in the corner of his eyes.

"No," Janet agreed. "Colonel O'Neill is a strong man, Daniel. Do you honestly believe he won't be able to deal with this?"

He didn't even need to think about it. He knew Jack would. It might be a struggle but Jack was a survivor, he would learn and play the hand he'd been dealt. It was himself he wasn't sure about.

"Daniel," Janet touched his shoulder and he looked up into her warm brown eyes, "I think it might help if you were to talk to Doctor Mackenzie. You know Colonel O'Neill has found his sessions helpful. You've been through a lot too these past months. The colonel's disappearance, thinking he's been dead, and now finding him alive. Talking to someone not so involved might help you."

"I'll be fine, Janet." Daniel pasted a smile on his face. "Jack's alive, that's what's important." He checked his watch. "I have a briefing at ten and then some reports to work on. Do you think we could talk to Jack about moving to a VIP suite at about two?" He stood as she sighed and nodded her assent. "Thanks, Janet. And I'm sorry about, you know," he gestured at her desk. Daniel left her office unable to meet her eyes any longer. Jack was alive, he repeated to himself. How selfish was he being by wanting Jack whole and healthy? He put the thoughts out of his mind, focusing instead on the presentation he'd prepared on the goddess Bastet.

"Good afternoon, Colonel O'Neill."

It was a new voice, a different one from the others he'd been exposed to over the past few weeks. He turned his head towards it, closing his eyes against the nausea the movement caused.

"Who are you?" Jack moved his hand along the arm of his wheelchair. His legs hurt, his back ached, his stomach was sore because he'd thrown up his breakfast. He wasn't in the mood to deal with yet another therapist.

"I'm Major Wendover. I'm a specialist in rehabilitation for the visually impaired."

Jack tilted his head as he heard her footsteps approach. He stuck out his hand when he judged she was close enough and felt his fingers grasped in a firm handshake.

"Visually impaired," Jack muttered. "Why don't you say it like it is, Major? Try blind."

"Blind it is then." She didn't seem taken aback by his words. "Colonel, I'd like to ask you a few questions and then we will be able to discuss your rehabilitation treatment." Jack heard a chair scrape as she pulled it out from the table. There was a soft sound as she placed what must have been a notebook or legal pad on the table and the sound of her rooting around in her purse for a pen or pencil. "I've read over Doctor Molinari's reports. You are able to distinguish light and dark?"

"I can't see if that's what you're trying to ask. I'm blind, Wendover."

"When you first were treated, Colonel, were you able to distinguish light from dark?" Oh, she was good; Jack had to give her that. Cool and professional.

"No." Jack remembered the months before being found, when he lived in a world where no light entered and that first week back home in the infirmary when the only constant was Daniel. "No, I couldn't. It was dark, like being in a cave."

"And now? Can you describe your vision now?"

"I know when lights are on. Can tell if they are turned off." He tapped his fingers on the arm of the wheelchair. He hated when they dimmed the lights at night. Even with the soft sounds of Daniel's breathing and the ever present hum of equipment it wasn't enough to stop the nightmares. Jack paused before continuing. "There hasn't been any change in my vision for the past two weeks."

"Yes." Wendover was silent except for the scratch of her pen on the paper. "What do you hope to gain from rehabilitation?"

"What do I hope to gain?" Jack gave a bitter laugh. "I'm blind and I'm in a wheelchair. What do I hope to gain? How does death sound?"

"You want to die?" He could almost imagine her raising one eyebrow.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…" Jack tightened his hands on his thighs, hating the feel of wasted muscle. "I mean, I don't know what I…" He waved his hand at his debilitated body.

"I've read the reports, Colonel." Wendover's voice was calm. She didn't try to argue with him. "I think your surviving so long on Hannara shows you are more than capable of surviving this. The wheelchair is temporary?"

Jack nodded. "I've been told that, yes."

"You can walk for short distances with a walker." He could tell she was reading from one of his medical reports. "Last week you were only able to stand."

"Yes." Jack rubbed at his forehead. "Look I've heard the 'all good things take time' routine, Wendover. But Doctor Molinari told me this is as good as it's gonna get." Jack tapped his temple.

"I understand that, Colonel. That's why Doctor Fraiser requested I begin rehabilitation with you." There was a sound of rustling paper and Jack heard her turn her chair. "So, I ask you again. What do you hope to gain from your rehabilitation?"

"You don't let up, do you?" Jack couldn't keep a smile from forming.

"I've been told I don't." She was smiling, Jack could tell.

"I want to be able to walk somewhere without depending on someone else." He hung his head. "I want to be able to eat a meal without spilling it over me and needing to be cleaned up like a goddamn baby."

"Okay, that's a start," Wendover agreed. "I thought today we could go over some equipment that may help make your life easier. We can work on some skills that will help you when you eat. I'd also like to start you on learning some Braille. You may not adapt to that, Colonel. Braille is difficult to learn. But there are other technologies we will discuss in our next sessions. Now, I'd like you to hold out your hand. We're going to start by learning how to use this watch."

Jack offered his hand, ashamed that he was a grown man who wanted nothing more than to crawl in a corner and hide. Her fingers touched his palm, placing a watch there. He had to fight the urge to pull his hand away.

Major Wendover was talking and Jack forced himself to listen to her words, concentrating on her explanation of the watch's features.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel called as he entered the VIP room. They'd moved him into this room earlier in the day. As Janet said, Jack wasn't sick any longer, he just needed a little more time before he was ready to go home. A rehab center was out of the question due to Jack's frequent nightmares and flashbacks to his time on Hannara. Jack was sitting up in bed, an object on the bed tray in front of him, his fingers exploring it.

"Hey Daniel," Jack said absently only turning his head when Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. Daniel studied his lover, relieved to see Jack's mood had lifted.

"What are you doing?" Daniel twisted to see the board Jack was holding.

Jack picked up a small block that reminded Daniel of Legos and placed it on the board. He brushed his fingers over it before carefully turning it towards Daniel. "Braille."

"Aren't these dots kinda big?" Daniel brushed his fingers across the large raised dots.

"Major Wendover said I might not be able to learn it." Jack ducked his head in a habit Daniel was beginning to recognize. "We're starting with these," Jack made a circle with his hand, "so I can feel the different patterns."

"I see," Daniel nodded and then winced.

"Hey," Jack reached out his hand as if he knew Daniel's reaction. "I don't think I'm going to go through life without hearing the word 'see' again." He squeezed Daniel's fingers and then released them, resting his hands on the table. "You ever realize how many expressions refer to sight?"

Daniel nodded again, reminding himself he needed to speak to Jack. "There are a lot."

"Yep." Jack placed his fingers back on the board, running them across the three blocks already there.

"You ready for supper?" Daniel ventured. Getting Jack to eat was an every night challenge. He had a suspicion it was a combination of Jack's lingering weakness, boredom with the bland diet, embarrassment at the chore eating had become, and a loss of appetite now that he couldn't see what he was eating.

"Ummmh." Jack ignored him, his concentration on the board complete.

Daniel phoned the commissary and requested Jack's usual evening meal along with a chicken sandwich for himself. He pulled out his laptop and decided he could use the time to finish a report on the Egyptian god, Sobek for SG-10, data from the MALP indicating he may have been the system lord ruling over the planet they were about to visit. He was double checking the report when there was a knock at the door. He hit save and went to retrieve their dinner from the airman waiting outside.

"Here you go, Doctor Jackson." The young man handed him the tray. "Doctor Fraiser would like a report on what Colonel O'Neill eats, sir."

"I understand," Daniel peered at the name on the shirt, "Airman Swenger. And thank you. I'll take care of the tray later."

"Supper time, Jack," Daniel called as he placed the tray on the table in the middle of the room. "I'll have it to you in a second."

"Damn it!" Jack yelled as he swept the board and tiles off of his bed table. He pulled his hands up to his face, curling them into fists.

"Jack?" Daniel left the food and went over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. "I'm going to touch your leg, okay?" He saw Jack's nod and placed his hand on Jack's knee. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"I'm not going to able to do this, Daniel. I'm not." Jack's breathing was shallow. "I can't learn it."

"God, Jack, you had your first lesson in Braille what? Three or four hours ago? After you spent time in PT and moved into this room." Daniel moved his fingers in a circle, massaging Jack's thigh. "I don’t think anyone expects you to learn how to ad…"

"How to be blind, Daniel. Say it. You can't even say the fucking word. You should have left me to die on that planet." Jack moved forward, knocking Daniel's hand away from his leg. "Instead of bringing me back here to be what? A useless lump that has to be hauled from place to place."

"You bastard," Daniel ground out, his anger rising to meet Jack's. "You selfish bastard. You want to pity yourself, Jack? You go right ahead. Don't expect me to come along for the ride. How dare you tell me my decision to not let you rot on Hannara was a stupid mistake on my part. You want me to say it, Jack? You're blind. Happy?" Daniel stopped needing to draw in a breath. He looked at Jack who sat with hunched, shaking shoulders. "Jack?" Daniel wasn't sure if he was hearing what he thought.

Jack raised his head and Daniel smiled. Jack was laughing although Daniel wasn't quite ready to do the same.

"We're quite a pair, Danny," Jack finally said. "Good to know we can still argue, huh?"

"Good to know, Jack." Moving his hand back to Jack's thigh, Daniel gave him a playful nudge. "You hungry?" To his surprise, Jack nodded.

"Arguing always gives me an appetite," Jack said. He twisted in the bed, swinging his legs over the side.

"I'll bring the food over here." Daniel got up from the bed.

Shaking his head, Jack pointed in the vague direction of his walker. "Major Wendover helped me with this earlier. I can make it to the table. It's eight shuffles."

"Shuffles, Jack?"

"Well, normally I should measure in steps but right now she agreed with me that shuffles would be a better term." Jack settled his hands on the walker when Daniel placed it in front of him. "Coast clear, Daniel?"

"Almost." Daniel bent down and picked up the Braille tiles and board scattered on the floor. "Okay, Jack," he said as he straightened. "Coast clear." He had to fight the impulse to grab on to Jack when the other man faltered slightly. He'd had his own meeting with Major Gwen Wendover earlier as she gave him some of his own instructions on learning to adjust to Jack's blindness. They'd made an appointment to go out to Jack's house later in the week so she could begin to make plans for Jack's rehab at home. Daniel tucked his hands under his armpits and watched as Jack settled in the chair at the table without mishap.

Jack placed his hands on the edge of the table and then slowly his fingers crept forward until he found the food tray.

"If you tell me where the food is I can eat it, Daniel," Jack said after a deep breath.

This was hardest, Daniel thought, seeing Jack, who was normally so independent, now unsure and having to ask for help with the simplest things. In his mind, Daniel knew Jack would become more independent but for now it was hard and he couldn't help questioning his own blame for Jack's current condition.

"You gonna join me, Daniel?" Jack raised his eyebrows and for a moment his eyes unerringly rested on Daniel.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking." Daniel sat down and watched as Jack pulled his plate closer.

"And what yummy food has the doc decreed I can have tonight?" Jack made a face.

"Rice at twelve, jello at three and I think its pureed carrots at seven. Well actually those are between seven and eight." Daniel looked at his own chicken sandwich and wondered if he'd be able to choke it down.

"Daniel, I think seven is close enough." Jack smiled. Daniel took a bite of his sandwich and saw Jack take a spoon in a shaking hand. Jack ran his fingers along the rim of the plate, barely touching the edges of the food. He scooped some rice onto the spoon and managed to get most of it to his mouth. Daniel was silent, knowing the amount of concentration Jack was using to tackle this new skill. He took another bite of the sandwich. It tasted like cardboard in his mouth.

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?" Daniel walked over to the bed. Jack was lying with his eyes closed, worn out from the activities of the day. He still tired easily and the rehabilitation was only going to increase.


"Tell me about stuff," Jack said, turning over to his side and searching for Daniel's hand.

"Stuff?"

"Stuff. You know, what's going on with stuff." Jack sounded weary and the light bulb went on in Daniel's head. Since his return to earth, Jack's days were spent in the infirmary, the PT room, Mackenzie's office or now this VIP suite. Sam and Teal'c had visited him a few evenings in the infirmary but Jack was so exhausted he tended to fall asleep in the midst of the conversations. It didn't help that Sam especially seemed uncomfortable around Jack. She worried over saying the wrong thing and her apparent unease just made Jack embarrassed and unable to concentrate. Teal'c said little and Daniel still hadn't figured out what he thought of the whole situation.

Daniel tapped his fingers on Jack's hand thinking about the latest tales brought home from other teams' missions. He smiled as he remembered Lou Ferretti coming through the Gate two days ago. "Wait 'til you hear what happened to Ferretti and SG-2, Jack." He began rubbing a small circle on Jack's palm. "Seems they gated to a planet where men were in short supply. And well, you know how charming Lou can be when he sets his mind to it."

He deliberately kept his voice low while he continued with the story. Jack's hand relaxed under his, and he opened his eyes a few times, reminding Daniel of a child fighting sleep. "Shh, Jack." Daniel moved his hand to Jack's bony shoulder, rubbing there, and patting it when he knew Jack was sleeping. "Sweet dreams, Jack," he whispered as he tugged the blankets up over Jack's torso. He settled onto the chair by the bed to read for awhile. Maybe if he was tired enough his dreams would be sweet too.

"Hey Daniel," A slim arm was slipped around his waist and Daniel turned his head to smile at Sam.

"Hey Sam." He looked over her shoulder at Teal'c and gave a brief nod before turning his attention back to the window of the PT room.

"O'Neill is making progress, Danieljackson," Teal'c said as he watched Jack doing leg presses.

"Yeah," Daniel sighed. He watched as Jack leaned forward shaking his head as the therapist spoke to him.

"He'll get better, Daniel. This is the colonel we're talking about." Sam sounded very assured but a look at her eyes showed the same concern they all were feeling.

"He's blind, Sam." Daniel curled his fingers around the metal in his pocket.

"O'Neill still has his mental faculties, Danieljackson. That is the most useful trait of a warrior." Teal'c shifted so he was standing in front of Daniel. "You must believe in O'Neill's ability to heal, Danieljackson or he will be lost to you forever."

Daniel looked up into Teal'c fierce brown gaze and nodded. He knew in his head Jack would survive, but his own guilt gnawed at him. A guilt he couldn't speak of to anyone, most certainly not to Jack. "Yes, Teal'c."

"Majorcarter, we have a meeting with SG-3," Teal'c stepped away waiting for Sam to follow and Daniel was once again left alone in the hallway, looking in at his lover.

Teal'c was right and Jack had made more progress in the past month than anyone thought possible. He'd gained back some of the weight he'd lost, something that pleased Janet. His speech was understandable and rarely slurred except when he got overly tired and unable to concentrate. Even his walking had improved. Two days ago the therapists had decided Jack was up to walking around without the walker. Daniel watched as Jack held on to the shoulders of Lieutenant Simone. He could see her speaking to Jack as Jack slid a foot slowly forward. Daniel couldn't imagine how terrifying the whole process must be for Jack, not only relearning to walk but doing it in the dark.

"Good morning, Doctor Jackson." Daniel pulled his gaze away from the windows to acknowledge Major Wendover. She smiled at him, her gray curls bobbing as she turned her head to look through the window.

"Colonel O'Neill is doing quite well," she noted in her brisk fashion.

"He's walking better today than yesterday," Daniel said, trying to focus on the positive side of things.

"Doctor Jackson, I know this is difficult for you," Wendover began, "but Colonel O'Neill will adjust, as will you. He will learn to live his life in a fulfilling fashion. It's not going to be easy for either of you. I won't lie and tell you it will. But there will come a day when you will find you don't focus on what Colonel O'Neill has lost but rather on where he chooses to go in the future."

"He has a long way to go." Daniel watched as the therapist stepped away and Jack took a few steps on his own, walking unaided for the first time since returning to Earth. Is this the way a parent felt seeing his child do it too? Daniel rubbed at the bridge of his nose, fighting the hot prickle of tears.

"Yes, he does," Wendover agreed. "I'll see Colonel O'Neill in his quarters in one hour, sir." She nodded. "That should give you both time to eat."

Daniel waved and opened the door to the PT room when he saw Jack sitting in his wheelchair.

"Oh nine hundred tomorrow, sir. I've arranged for you to use the whirlpool later this evening." Lieutenant Simone concluded his speech to Jack and looked up at Daniel. "Well, sir, it looks like your transportation is here. And remember walking this afternoon and this evening."

Jack nodded, twisting his hand in his T-shirt. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Jack. Let's go get something to eat, okay?"

"Daniel?" Jack asked as they got off the elevator a few minutes later. "Where are we going? This isn't the way to my room."

"Lunch, Jack. Major Wendover said she'd be at the VIP room for a session in an hour and then you have an appointment with Mackenzie, so I thought it might be a good idea to eat now."

"No! Take me back," Jack nearly shouted, grasping the handles of the chair tightly. "You think because I'm blind I don't have a say in what happens to me? You didn't even ask."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I just thought you'd be hungry. I'm sorry. You're right. I should have asked you." Daniel turned the chair around. "We'll go back to the room."

“Get me the hell out of here,” Jack ordered tightly between clenched teeth.

They returned to the VIP room in uncomfortable silence and Jack gratefully climbed into his bed, pulling the blankets over his hips in agitated movements.

"Look," Jack said as he heard Daniel fidgeting by his beside. "I just wish you’d have warned me first. I'm tired, you know I didn't sleep well last night, and…"

"You’re right, I wasn’t thinking," Daniel said in a subdued voice. "I’ll let you get some rest. I'll be back soon with lunch. What do you want?"

"I'm not hungry, Daniel." Jack turned on his side, facing away from him.

"You need to eat," Daniel said, sitting down on the bed. "Janet said she's thinking of sending you home the end of this week but you need to eat, Jack. You still have weight to gain back." He massaged the tense shoulder beneath his hand.

"Cereal," Jack finally mumbled. "Froot Loops."

"Be back soon, Jack." Daniel leaned closer and sneaked a kiss to Jack's nape.

"Are you ready, Jack?" Daniel asked. He took in the hands clutching the duffel bag, fingers white with strain. Jack's final checkup in the infirmary had been completed, Janet sending them on their way with her blessing.

"No," Jack muttered, "but everyone says this is what I need to do."

Daniel said nothing. While he couldn't ever say he'd experienced what Jack was feeling right now, he could guess the fear coursing through his lover's body. He'd hoped the depression Jack was exhibiting lately would lift with the promise of going home. He'd been wrong.

Jack tilted his head, a new habit he'd acquired, as the nurse brought a wheelchair to his bedside. He stood, holding the duffel bag and looking lost.

"Just pivot, Jack. The wheelchair is right in front of you," Daniel murmured.

Jack shifted the bag to one hand and sighed as his searching fingers found the armrest of the wheelchair. He sat down, letting Daniel lift his legs onto the foot rest. Daniel let his hand linger on Jack's ankle a moment, noting the still turned in left foot.

"Daniel?" Jack asked as Daniel stood. "Don't let anybody see me." The plea was an anguished whisper. One look at his lover's face had Daniel searching for something to cover Jack. He tugged the blanket off the bed, tucking it around Jack's still skinny legs.

"We're just getting in the elevator and going to my car, Jack. We're going straight home." Daniel bent over, touching Jack's hand. "And then Major Wendover is going to come over to the house a little bit later once you get settled in."

"Daniel?" Jack turned his face towards him, his eyes closed.

"I'm here, Jack. Right by your side." Daniel walked beside the wheelchair as the nurse began pushing.

They only stopped once on their short trip to the surface. Daniel handed Jack a pair of sunglasses before they went out into the sunny day and realized this was the first time Jack had breathed in the air of Earth for over seven months.

Jack tilted his head back as they went through the doors to the parking lot. "Sunshine?" he asked.

"Yeah," Daniel answered. "It's a beautiful day. Sunshine, not a cloud in the sky."

"Good," Jack said before falling silent once more.

Janet had assured Daniel Jack was ready to go home. His physical therapists had asserted their collective opinion Jack was ready to live at home although he would need therapy sessions three times a week for a time yet. Major Wendover was adamant that Jack begin to work on his rehab daily and learn how to live with being blind. But none of them were standing with Daniel, Jack, and a nurse in the middle of a parking lot.

"Will you give me your bag, Jack?" Daniel squatted in front of the chair. "I'll put it in the trunk." He was relieved when Jack handed the bag to him. The nurse had already wheeled Jack to the passenger side door by the time Daniel tossed the duffel inside the trunk. Jack was leaning forward in his wheelchair, his hands skimming over the door, searching for the handle. Daniel shook his head at the nurse when she went to open the door and gave a small smile when Jack managed to open it on his own.

"Let Nurse Bailey and me help you into the car, Jack, okay?" Daniel waited until Jack nodded before they helped him to shift into the passenger seat.

Daniel closed the door and smiled at the nurse who'd been so helpful during Jack's slow convalescence. She smiled back and Daniel was sure she was wiping her eyes as she walked back into the mountain.

Jack was terrified. He'd been in Daniel's car as a passenger more than once. He'd even traveled from the mountain in a half doze, keeping his eyes closed for most of the journey. But this, this was different. His eyes were open this time, fully open and he couldn't see a fucking thing. He could feel his heart pounding; hear the sound of his own harsh breathing. Maybe this was all a nightmare and he'd wake up in the infirmary and Doc would tell him he'd been really sick and he'd been having bad dreams. Maybe Hannara had just been a part of some drug induced hallucination from some concoction he'd unknowingly ingested in some ceremony Daniel insisted SG-1 attend. Jack pushed at his sunglasses and rubbed fiercely at his eyes, holding them open and seeing only a world of light gray. The car swerved slightly and Jack felt his stomach churn. It wasn't a nightmare, it was real. Oh God, oh God, he couldn't do this.

"Danny," he heard his voice come out in a pathetic whisper and swallowed the bile in his throat.

"Jack?" Daniel sounded alarmed and the car slowed. He heard the turn signal clicking and then the even rhythm of the emergency flashers as Daniel turned them on. The car shook as traffic sped past them.

"I'm gonna be…" Jack fumbled to find the door handle, hitting the door with his fist when he couldn't find it. "Open it, damn it, where's the handle?" He felt tears in his eyes and Daniel's weight as he leaned across Jack and pushed open the door. Jack undid his seat belt and twisted sideways in the seat, bracing his hands on the door frame as he began coughing. Bile surged in his throat and Jack leaned further out the door, hoping he wasn't hitting the car, his pants or his shoes. And then Daniel was there, outside the car, holding Jack's head, stroking his back.

"It's okay, Jack." Daniel's calm began to filter through Jack's distress. "It's okay."

"Sorry," Jack gasped finally, his throat and nose burning from the acid. He waved a hand. "Just sorry."

"Do you think we need to take you back to the infirmary?" Daniel asked. "Do you hurt somewhere?" A cool hand was pressed to Jack's forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever."

"No. Want to go home." Jack rested his head on the back of the seat, closing his eyes again. "Just…the drive, not knowing where I am, just…scared," he finally admitted.

"We're just on the outskirts of the Springs, Jack. We're about a mile from that gas station that you always say makes the best coffee even though you know they really don't." Daniel began talking, keeping up a gentle kneading of Jack's shoulders. He pressed a bottle into Jack's left hand. "It's water, rinse your mouth," Daniel tapped Jack's hand and Jack complied, picturing their surroundings in his mind. He swished the water in his mouth and then leaned forward and spit it out.

"You ready to go home?" Daniel rubbed his hand along Jack's thigh. "I'll drive the route you always do, and tell you where we are, okay?"

Jack nodded, letting Daniel help him put his legs back inside the car. Daniel was true to his word, keeping up a running commentary for the next half hour until they pulled into the driveway. Jack let go of the water bottle then. Daniel had faith in him; hell everyone seemed sure that Jack O'Neill would be able to live the rest of his life as a blind man. Too bad Jack didn't feel the same way. He pushed open the car door and managed to get out and stand on his own. Daniel came to his side, guiding Jack's hand to a spot right above his elbow when Jack couldn't seem to move. He let his fingers soak in Daniel's warmth, the strong muscles beneath his fingertips.

"Ready?" Daniel asked, his voice sure.

He'd trusted Daniel with his life time and again. Jack decided he'd need to trust him in this too.

"Yeah, Daniel. I'm ready." Jack wished he could believe in himself even half as much as Daniel did.

"Okay, Jack, just two steps down. That's good." Daniel felt Jack's grip tighten as they stepped into the living room. Jack's near panic attack in the car had scared Daniel too. He'd promised Jack they'd make it through this, that Jack would be able to live a new life. Daniel squashed down his own fears for the moment. "Gwen said she'd be over at two. It's almost nine now. Do you want to listen to some music? Are you hungry? Do you want to take a shower?" Daniel rattled off as many possibilities as he could think of.

"I'm tired," Jack whispered and Daniel studied Jack's face, noting the lines of tension in Jack's forehead. The morning had been extremely stressful for Jack, Daniel knew and Jack's stamina, while improving, still had a long way to go.

"You want to lie down in our bedroom?" Daniel asked and then began walking in that direction when Jack gave a nod. He coaxed Jack up the first step towards the bedroom and began the second step when he felt Jack stumble behind him. It happened so quickly Daniel didn't have time to prevent the fall. He winced at the sound of Jack's knees hitting the wooden stair.

"Here Jack." Daniel knelt down beside him, his arm coming around Jack's waist. "You okay?"

"Stop it." Jack pushed at Daniel's hand. "Just stop it." Daniel withdrew his arm and moved away a slight distance watching as Jack spread his hands on the stairs. Jack waved one hand in the air, searching for the railing and gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. He pulled himself to his feet and put both hands on the rail.

"Ready?" Daniel asked. "I'm sorry, Jack. I was going too fast." When there was no response to his question, Daniel touched Jack's shoulder, another mistake. Jack let go of the rail with one hand and struck out in fear and confusion. Daniel pressed against the wall, waiting until Jack's breathing calmed once more. "Jack?"

"No. Don't help. Don't," Jack muttered. He slid his hands up the railing and slowly lifted one foot to the next step bringing his other foot up to join it. The progress was halting and slow but any attempts Daniel made to help were rebuffed. So Daniel followed behind, his hands hanging useless at his sides, thinking when Jack got to the top of the stairs Jack would take his arm again. But stubborn as Jack was, he held one hand flat on the wall, shuffling along the hall until his fingers met the doorjamb to the bedroom.

"Danny?" If Daniel hadn't been behind Jack he wouldn’t have heard the lost whisper. "This is the bedroom right?"

Swallowing hard, Daniel managed to speak. "Yeah, Jack. Yeah it's the bedroom."

Jack nodded and pushed away from the door, walking into the open space with his hands held before him. Looking over Jack's shoulder, Daniel could see there was nothing to trip Jack or hinder his progress. He bit his tongue when he wanted to give directions. Jack stopped, turning left and taking a step. He shook his head and took two steps back and turned right then shook his head again.

"Jack?"

"Fuck!" Jack yelled as Daniel stepped closer. Jack's body was vibrating with tension. "I can't even find my damn bathroom." He reached out, his waving hands coming in contact with Daniel's shoulders.

Daniel covered Jack's hands with his, concerned at how cold those hands were. "Let me help, Jack."

Jack slid a hand down Daniel's arm to rest above his elbow. "Bathroom."

"Okay." Daniel began walking, conscious of Jack's hesitant steps. He stopped before the bathroom door and placed Jack's hand on the doorknob, watching as long fingers explored the metal. Jack opened the door and Daniel followed one step behind.

"A little to your left, Jack," Daniel murmured, smiling when Jack found the sink.

"I'll be okay from here, Daniel," Jack said, his voice hoarse. "I'll be okay."

"I'll wait right outside," Daniel promised. He stepped through the door, closing it, and leaning against it in relief. His own hands were shaking. He shut his eyes and prayed for strength. Finding the small bit of Jack's ever present dogtag in his pocket, Daniel rubbed it, relaxing as the metal warmed from his body heat.

The sound of flushing and then water running warned him Jack was ready. Daniel straightened as the door opened. Jack looked worn out and Daniel was worried when Jack took his arm without comment. Daniel guided him to the bed.

"You want to get undressed?" Daniel sat on the bed beside Jack as his lover curled up on his side. Jack shook his head. Daniel stroked Jack's hair and then took off Jack's sunglasses so they didn't get bent.

"What do they look like?" Jack asked in a small voice.

"Your glasses?" Daniel placed them on the night table and began stroking Jack's hair again.

"My eyes. What do they look like?" Jack whispered. "Do they look blind?"

"Your eyes are beautiful. Brown just like always." Daniel bent to kiss Jack's temple and the small scar running to Jack's left ear. He sat up when Jack turned onto his back. He touched the fine lines at the corner of Jack's left eye. "When you turn towards people's voices, you don't make eye contact anymore. Your eyes don't focus." He stopped as Jack rested his fingers around his wrist.

"Is it ugly? Does it look ugly?" Jack shivered.

"No, no Jack. Not ugly, never ugly." Daniel toed off his shoes and stretched his own legs out on the bed. "No one thinks that." He wondered if these fears were some remnant of Jack's time as an outcast. He pulled Jack closer, rubbing circles on Jack's back, glad to feel more muscle was returning.

"I don't know if I can do this, Daniel."

"We'll do it together, Jack. I'll be here for you. We'll do it together." Daniel reached down and pulled up one of the folded blankets from the bottom of the bed. He covered Jack, smiling at the small sigh of thanks he received for the gesture. Jack's breathing soon slowed and Daniel slid out from under him so he could pull off Jack's shoes and socks. He studied the scar tissue crisscrossing the soles of Jack's feet, thinking of the pain Jack must have suffered. At least Jack had regained the ability to walk, the ability to speak. Jack muttered something in his sleep and Daniel resumed his position by Jack's side prepared to spend the rest of the morning guarding his lover's slumber.

Jack smiled down at his sleeping lover. Sunlight turned some of Daniel's hair golden. The strain of the past months had put its stamp on his features. Even in rest, Daniel's mouth was pulled down into a frown and his forehead crinkled with stress. Jack touched tentative fingers to his lover's cheek brushing them over a cheekbone and searching for Daniel's lips. An eager mouth opened under his touch and Jack bent closer, tasting Daniel, chocolate and coffee and cinnamon toothpaste. Oh God, he'd missed him. He'd missed Daniel. Dreamed of seeing him again. But the doctors said he was blind. He wasn't. He wasn't. It wasn't true. He could see. He could. He couldn't be blind.

"Jack." Hands cupped his face and Daniel's voice intruded on his dream. "Jack, come on, buddy. Wake up." The strain in the beloved voice made Jack open his eyes although he didn't want to. Gray, his world was gray. No sunlight, no glimpse of Daniel's hair, his eyes, his face, no muted colors of the crazy quilt Daniel bought a year or so ago in a thrift shop. His stomach lurched. Panicking, Jack rolled from the bed, trying to remember his position in the room. He took a few steps forward, cursing under his breath when his toes came in bruising contact with the chair Daniel always tossed his clothes on. Okay, chair, chair is by the closet, closet is near the bathroom door. Jack reached out a hand, relieved to feel smooth wood beneath it. Ignoring Daniel's continued calling of his name, Jack kept one hand on the wall and shuffled his feet. His hand met the hinges of the door and he moved across in front of it, opening it, and taking the few steps to the toilet. He got on his knees, dry heaving, his breath coming in gasps between bouts.

"Here." Daniel took Jack's hand, curled his fingers around a cup. Jack drank as the cup was tipped to his mouth. "Better?" Daniel asked, his voice calm and soothing.

Jack shifted, resting his head on the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. "Better." He held the cup out, not sure of Daniel's position, sighing when it was taken from his hands. "What time is it?"

"You have on your watch, Jack," Daniel answered. Jack heard him move away and the sound of the plastic cup being rinsed.

With trembling fingers, Jack pressed the button on his watch. A mechanical voice informed him it was eleven thirty three. Rubbing at his forehead and then his eyes, Jack took a few deep breaths. He put out a hand and grasped the edge of the tub before pulling himself up. Get a grip O'Neill, he thought. You survived on Hannara for how many months? Surely you can cope with this if you're surrounded by people you know. He leaned against the wall, tucking his hands under his armpits trying to get them warm again.

"My glasses? Are my dark glasses here, Daniel?" He wished he could stop shivering. As if his wish had been spoken aloud, Daniel came closer and ran his hands up Jack's arms, rubbing them briskly.

"You don't need to wear your glasses for me, Jack," Daniel said. Jack wondered what Daniel's expression was. Was he sad? Confused? He couldn't tell from the calm voice. "God, Jack, you're like ice. You want to take a bath or shower?"

Jack hesitated. The therapists had helped him in the infirmary. He didn't want Daniel to see his body naked and exposed.

"Janet suggested we get a chair. That way you can sit to shower. You don't have to worry about your legs."

Face burning, Jack ducked his head. He could imagine what the chair looked like, remembered one his mother had to use after her stroke. Helpless, dependent, he should have died on Hannara. It would have been better for Daniel, allowed him to go on with his life.

"Jack?"

"Shower sounds good, Daniel," Jack managed to say. He stepped away from the wall, moving over to sit on the closed toilet lid. He listened to the sounds as Daniel pulled out towels from the cabinet, brought in the chair from somewhere and placed it in the tub with a grunt, and finally the sound of the shower.

"Okay, Jack. It's all ready. You need some help getting undressed?" Daniel asked. Jack shook his head and pulled off the sweatshirt and sweatpants he was wearing. He stood, pushing down his boxers and stepping out of them. He held out his hand, hating that he needed help to get into his own bathtub for crying out loud.

"You're fine, Jack. Just lift your left leg. That's it, just a little higher." Daniel's hands were steady on his arm, supporting and strong. Jack felt for the chair and sat on it in relief, not wanting to admit his legs were shaky, whether from fear or exhaustion or a mixture of both he wasn't sure. Warm water splashed on his feet, Daniel evidently had the spray coming out of the hand held unit.

"The shampoo is on the floor by your left foot, shower gel on the right side of the stool. Just reach down your hand; you should be able to feel it." Daniel waited until Jack tested for the items. "I'm going to go get you some clean clothes and put on some soup for us. You gonna be okay?"

"I can take a damn shower by myself, Daniel," Jack spat out, anger the only way he could deal with his fear at the moment.

"Yeah, I know, Jack." Daniel sighed and Jack heard the door close softly behind him.

Leaning forward, Jack swept his hand to the left, grabbing hold of the shampoo bottle. He placed it on the seat beside him and felt for the grab bar in the shower, using it to pull himself to his feet. Daniel would be having kittens if he knew Jack was standing when he should be sitting but Jack needed to find the hand held attachment. Besides, the other shower head worked better anyway. Keeping one hand on the grab bar, he reached out towards the wall with the other, smiling to himself when he found the shower head. He pulled out the button that switched the spray to overhead and sighed as warm water cascaded over him. It was the first real shower he could remember since before he was taken. He reached back for the shampoo, swearing when it fell off the chair. Jack moved his foot, feeling for the bottle. There it was. He bent over and picked it up, realizing he was going to have to let go of the grab bar in order to properly wash his hair. Except for the stumble on the stairs earlier, his legs tended to be steady unless he was overly tired. Squeezing a small amount of shampoo into his hand, Jack tossed the bottle back onto the floor and began scrubbing his hair. It was slightly shorter than it had been before the mission where he'd been taken. He couldn't remember much of those first few days back in the infirmary but he did remember his head being shorn of the matted hair. At least he usually washed his hair with eyes closed.

For awhile, standing there with the water sluicing over his head, he could pretend he could see. Sighing, Jack rinsed his hair and took a step in the tub, half turning to get the hand held attachment before preparing to soap the rest of his body, forgetting about the chair and the shampoo bottle he'd tossed onto the floor. Arms flailing as he slipped and began to fall, Jack was unable to find the hand rail. He bit his tongue as he hit the porcelain bottom, his head coming forward and impacting with the chair's edge. Water beat down on his head and he could taste blood.

"Jack? Oh God, Jack!" Daniel's shout sounded from the hall and pounding feet heralded Daniel's entrance to the bathroom. "Jack? Jack, you okay?" Shaking hands held his head steady. The water was turned off and Jack began to shiver as air hit his wet skin.

"Stupid," Jack said, his hands closing on the stool. The supposed anti slip strips bit into the naked skin of his thigh. He batted at Daniel, who was touching his face. "Stop it."

"You're bleeding, Jack," Daniel said, ignoring him. Jack touched a finger to his forehead and brought it before his eyes before he realized he wouldn't be able to see the blood. "What happened?"

"I slipped. I was washing my hair and I slipped on the damn shampoo bottle." Jack grabbed hold of Daniel's arms and used them to lever himself upright.

"Wait," Daniel guided him out of the tub and to the toilet seat, "how did you manage to do this if you were sit…Jack, you were supposed to sit on the chair." The voice turned cold and disapproving.

"I'm a grown man, Daniel. I think I should be able to stand up and take a shower and wash my hair without having to sit down like an invalid."

"Jack, your legs still aren't strong enough. Look at what happened on the steps." Antiseptic spray stung Jack's forehead.

"Geez, warn a blind guy why don'tcha?" Jack grumbled. He refrained from rubbing his left hip which was beginning to hurt.

"Maybe you should have remembered that in the tub," Daniel said. A bandage was applied to the cut. "Damn it, Jack, you could have killed yourself."

"I didn't." Jack caught Daniel's hand, more luck than skill. "I didn't kill myself. You don't know what it's like."

"No, I don't know, Jack." Daniel's voice went very quiet. A fluffy towel was placed on Jack's lap. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Just my pride, Daniel," Jack sighed. He waved a hand in the air. "I’ll dry off and get dressed."

"Call me when you're ready to come downstairs," Daniel said. Jack nodded but he thought Daniel might already be out the door and didn't see the gesture.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jack forced himself to do some of the deep breathing Doctor Mackenzie had taught him. He picked up the towel after a few minutes, starting to dry himself off. The towel fell to the floor as his fingers encountered the scar tissue crisscrossing his torso, thin stripes of smooth skin. He ran his hands down his legs, hating how skinny they felt, muscles still not filling them out. There were deep lines that ran the length of his shin bones. Jack still hadn't remembered what caused those. Mostly dry, he carefully placed the towel over the tub's side and made his way to the bedroom, walking to the bed without thought, something he'd done waking up in the middle of the night to relieve himself and finding the bathroom and then his bed half asleep.

He sat down on the bed patting around its' surface for the clothes Daniel said he'd placed there. Jack pulled on a pair of boxers and then the Tshirt and sweatshirt. He stood up to pull on the sweatpants and felt for the rolled up socks. Jack rested an ankle over his knee. He skimmed his fingers over the sole of his foot. Scars met his touch. He could remember the days spent alone and cold on the streets of Hannara, days when he'd stumbled along still trying to force uncooperative legs to move. He remembered the other outcasts who pulled glass over his feet so he wouldn’t come into their territory and spread the wasting sickness among them. Seemed there were outcasts among the outcasts.

Not liking the path his thoughts were taking, Jack pulled on his socks in jerky motion. He found his sneakers and slipped them on, tying them securely. If he fell again, Daniel would probably blame him for that. One last thing, Jack thought. He patted the night table, closing his fingers over his dark glasses and feeling less naked when he put them on. Jack made his way to the bedroom door and down the hall towards the steps. He stopped at the top of them, his heart pounding when he thought of walking down them in the dark.

"Daniel," he called, hating himself, hating his need. "Daniel. I'm ready."

"Major Wendover said we'll practice more in the house and the yard tomorrow. She said she expects me to give you lessons each night when you get home." Jack's voice was low in the darkness of the bedroom. Daniel let Jack's words wash over him, too exhausted to even reply to Jack's recounting of his therapy session. Jack hadn't wanted Daniel in the house while he had his first lessons on