THERE IS A SEASON (Part Three) BY DARCY & KALIMYRE

Jack was beginning to reconsider his strategy. He’d been sure once Daniel had a chance to think, he’d come out on his own and talk things over. Even in the short time he’d known Daniel, he’d seen a strong stubborn streak, but the boy was also eager to please and seemed rational. Surely he’d understand fighting was wrong?

Then again, how many fights had Jack himself gotten into as a kid? Sometimes it wasn’t that simple. Jack grimaced, bracing both hands against the kitchen counter and looking out at the back yard. He’d been poking around the cupboards, trying to come up with something for dinner when it had occurred to him that Daniel had now been in his room for close to four hours. There was stubborn, and then there was this kid, who took the word to a whole new level.

Maybe he’d been a little unfair. He’d leapt to conclusions without getting the whole story. But after being pulled from a meeting that, if he was honest, he’d been relieved to get away from, and driving across town worried sick that Daniel had been seriously hurt, he hadn’t been in the most reasonable mood. Once he’d seen that smooth, unmarked face and the easy way Daniel was breathing, all his worry had turned into anger and impatience.

It was pretty clear Daniel wasn’t going to come to him. Maybe if he made the first move, apologized for snapping at him, then Daniel would feel more open to talking. Jack knew he had to discipline the kid somehow, but he didn’t want to give some unreasonable punishment if Daniel hadn’t been at fault. Somehow, Jack doubted Danny had really started the fight.

He opened the fridge again and gave brief consideration to doing something with the leftover roast beef, but shook his head and shut the door. This seemed like a good night for pizza. He decided he’d place the order, then talk to Daniel, and by the time they’d worked things out they could eat and hopefully ease some of the tension.

Jack called the pizza place, got a timeframe of thirty minutes to work with, and then headed up the stairs. He knocked at Daniel’s door softly, and then louder when he got no response. Suddenly scared for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, he shoved the door open, his eyes already scanning the floor for... well, never mind what for. It wasn’t there anyway, the carpet clean and white.

Daniel was lying on the bed, still fully dressed, his arms flung up and his eyes closed, his glasses slipping sideways off his face. Jack could see the steady rise and fall of his chest and he leaned against the doorframe for a moment, closing his eyes. Daniel was fine. There was no reason to overreact.

Jack sat down on the bed beside Daniel, placing his hand lightly on the small chest, smiling at the deep, clear breaths. He shook Daniel’s shoulder gently, leaning close. “Hey, Daniel, wake up.”

Daniel winced and tried to pull away, and then his eyes flipped open, blinking at Jack in confusion for a moment. He sat up abruptly, a quick breath hissing through his teeth at the motion, and propped his hands behind him to stay upright. “Jack?”

“Hey, sleepy,” Jack murmured. “You had me thinking you were in here sulking, and it turns out you were just getting a nap. Guess you had me fooled, huh?” He gave Daniel a warm smile, trying to show that he wasn’t angry anymore.

Daniel edged away. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sorry.”

Jack felt his smile become a little forced. “It’s okay. I guess you had a pretty exciting day.”

Daniel nodded and shrugged. “Sure. Um... I still can’t... I know you want me to explain why and I don’t really know. I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack sighed, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder. Daniel twisted away, and he dropped his hand. Apparently, the kid still wasn’t comfortable with him. “I was pretty upset when I picked you up,” he began.

“I know,” Daniel murmured, lowering his head.

“Hey.” Jack pressed a knuckle under his chin, lifting Daniel’s face. “Let me finish. I was upset then, because I was worried about you. When I saw that you were okay, I guess I got a little mad because I’d been worried, and maybe I didn’t give you a chance to explain. So why don’t you just tell me what happened? I promise I’ll listen.”

Daniel blinked at him, and then bit his lip. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I met Dudley in math class. He’s really good at math, and he was helping me, and then I helped him in English. He likes a lot of astronomy and geometry and stuff, and he listens to me when I talk about Egypt and mythology and everything. I like him. He’s not dumb, you know, even though he’s big. Big people don’t have to be dumb.” He gave Jack a pointed look.

Jack grinned, lifting his hands in surrender. “Okay, I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Got it. So you met Dudley and you two hit it off. What happened next?”

Daniel dropped his eyes again, twisting a bit of sheet between his fingers. “We were having morning break. We went to the cafeteria and we were going to get snacks, and then Rob cut in line and pushed us over. He called Dudley ‘fat ass’ and laughed at him. He said he’d get all the food.” Daniel peeked up at Jack, as if to check his reaction. Jack nodded seriously and motioned for him to go on. “Dudley got out of line. He was upset and the food lady wasn’t doing anything, Jack! She was just watching. All the kids laughed and Rob kept pushing and I... I tripped him. I know I probably shouldn’t have and I didn’t think about breaking the rules or anything, I just wanted to...” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time, right?” Jack asked. Daniel gave him a startled look, and Jack nodded. He knew all about doing stupid things on impulse.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed.

“Is that when the fight started?”

Daniel frowned, shaking his head. “No, Rob was going to hit me then, but I kept talking. I said he must be really tough, to beat up the littlest kid in class, and I took my glasses off and said now I couldn’t even see him, wasn’t he brave to fight me? All the other kids laughed and he was mad but he went away.”

Jack couldn’t help a wide grin. “Nice one,” he said, nodding. “You’ve got a quick mouth when you want to, don’t you?”

Daniel looked surprised again, but he gave a little nod. “I guess. Rob was really mad, though. That’s why he got me later.”

“Got you?” Jack echoed.

“In the locker room after gym. Me and Dudley were changing, and he came around the corner and knocked me down. He kicked me and then Dudley pushed him and started hitting him.” Daniel looked up at him earnestly, his eyes wide. “Jack, he only did it to make Rob stop. He was trying to help me! Please don’t make me not be friends with him anymore.”

Jack winced. He should have known better than to talk badly about Dudley. It wasn’t like Daniel had a lot of friends. Making one must have been really important to him. “It sounds like he’s a good kid,” Jack said. “Was that when you got sent to the principal’s office?”

Daniel nodded, hunching his shoulders. “I’m usually good. I know I got sent to the principal that one time in my old school when I argued with the teacher, but never for fighting. I’m not used to being in trouble.”

“Must have been pretty scary,” Jack said softly.

Daniel shrugged, biting his lip. Jack could see him blinking rapidly and he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Daniel had clearly had a bad day, and he hadn’t helped matters by jumping all over the kid when he got home. “Hey,” he said. “Come here.” He tugged Daniel close, wrapping both arms around him and squeezing.

Daniel stiffened, and then made a small squeaking noise, squirming away. He pressed a hand against his ribs and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, his eyes closed. Jack watched, and a very unpleasant feeling began to grow in his belly. Just because Daniel’s face was untouched didn’t mean he hadn’t been hurt. Jack had just assumed that if he was in pain, he would have said something, which was stupid. Charlie would have said something. Daniel hid things, especially things that hurt him.

“Daniel?”

Darting him a furtive glance, Daniel shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Let me see.”

Daniel seemed to consider running for a moment, leaning forward on the bed and tensing his legs, but then he sighed and nodded. “I should change this shirt anyway,” he muttered. Then he pulled it off in one quick motion, tossing it on the floor. He turned slightly, his eyes on Jack, watchful.

Jack fumbled behind him for the bedspread and clutched a handful of it tightly. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out quietly, without yelling. Daniel’s chest was a patchwork of bruises. One was clearly a footprint, stomped into his side, and several more overlapped in varying mixes of blue and purple. There was a dark knot on his belly that must have hurt like hell. Smaller glancing blows showed on his upper arms and shoulders, but most of the damage was concentrated on his ribs.

“Daniel,” Jack said in a very controlled voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daniel blinked at him, and then looked down. His eyes widened, and he touched one of the bruises tentatively, tracing the mottled edge. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t look.”

Jack began pressing gently on the few patches of unmarked skin, testing for any give in the bones. Daniel winced and pulled away, covering his sides protectively.

“I’m checking to see if any ribs are cracked,” Jack told him. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

“They’re not broken,” Daniel replied firmly. “I know what broken feels like.”

Jack felt a vague pain in his hand and looked over. He was still clutching the bedspread, his knuckles so white that the blood in his hand was forced to concentrate in the soft places of his fingers, making them dark red. He forced his fingers to uncurl, flexing them, wincing at the pain in the joints. “So do I,” he said quietly. “Please let me check.”

Daniel looked a little scared. Jack wasn’t sure what his own face looked like, but considering the elaborate murder plans against anyone who taught a little boy what broken ribs felt like that were going through his head, it probably wasn’t very friendly. He made himself smile. Daniel’s eyes widened and he huddled against the headboard, drawing his knees up to protect his middle. Jack decided that his smile was probably a bit unsettling at the moment.

“Easy,” he said softly. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just upset that you’re hurt.”

Daniel eyed him warily, but uncurled, allowing Jack to touch his chest. He held still as Jack carefully tested each rib, only his occasional soft gasps and bitten lip showing how the examination felt. When he was done with the ribs, Jack had him lay down and carefully prodded his abdomen, around the dark bruise.

“There’s nothing to break there,” Daniel objected.

Jack gave him a tight look. “There’s plenty to break there. But I think you got lucky this time. I’m still going to take you to see Doc Fraiser tomorrow to be sure, but you’ve got some tough bones.”

Daniel gave a little smile and tried to sit up, but Jack pressed him back down. “Stay still for a little bit,” he murmured. “You’re going to need to take it easy for a while, until this heals.”

“I’ve been sleeping all afternoon,” Daniel pointed out.

Jack couldn’t help a little smile. The kid was certainly resilient. Then he looked at the beaten skin again and his smile faded. “Did Rob do this?”

Daniel nodded. “I told you. In the locker room, he knocked me down and then he kicked me.”

“Over and over.”

“Yeah.” Daniel looked away, shrugging. “I tried to curl up so he wouldn’t get my stomach. I’m sorry.”

Jack shook his head. “Sorry? Why?”

“Because I’m not good at fighting. I just laid there.”

Jack closed his eyes for a long moment. Later, when this was over and Daniel was safely tucked into bed, he would go down in the basement and murder a punching bag. For now, the boy needed him to be calm. “You did all you could,” Jack said, stroking Daniels’ hair back from his forehead. “And you were very strong about it, too. I’ve seen soldiers cry over being hit less than this.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yep. Big, tough Marines, crying like babies. You were very brave.”

A small smile snuck out before Daniel could reel it in. “Well... maybe a little.”

“A lot,” Jack said, tapping the tip of his nose. “I don’t suppose you know what Rob’s last name is, do you?”

Daniel frowned suspiciously. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I know you want to handle this yourself, but this is more than a little fight.” Jack trailed a fingertip around the bruise on Daniel’s stomach. “He could have seriously hurt you. I can’t risk that happening again. If he isn’t pulled from that school, you will be.”

Daniel shook his head. “Jack, don’t do that, please? I don’t want to change schools again. Rob’s dad is rich. Dudley said he knows people and Rob gets away with stuff. They’ll make me leave instead.”

Jack allowed himself a grim smile. “I know a few people myself. I’m betting this isn’t the first time Rob has gotten into trouble. Put his record next to yours, and the report that Doc Fraiser is going to give us tomorrow, and he’ll be out of there. I’ll make sure of it.”

“But--”

“Daniel. Trust me.”

Jack watched him, knowing he was asking a lot. Trust was something that had to be earned, and Daniel didn’t give it easily. But after a long moment, Daniel nodded, offering a wan smile. “Okay, Jack,” he said.

“Thank you.” Jack leaned forward and kissed Daniel’s forehead, ruffling his hair back again. “Stay put. I’m going to get you some Tylenol.”

Daniel opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Jack knew he generally objected to medication, since he had to take so much on a daily basis for his asthma and allergies. The fact that he was willing to accept the Tylenol said a lot about how much he was hurting.

Jack retrieved the bottle of Children’s Tylenol from the bathroom and poured a dose into the little medicine cup on the cap. Daniel swallowed dutifully, wrinkling his nose at the thick cherry taste.

“There,” Jack said. “You should start feeling better soon. Do you think you’re up to eating some pizza?”

Daniel grinned. “Sure. But you’ll have to let me get up first.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you can eat in bed.”

Daniel looked at him uncertainly, and Jack waggled his eyebrows to show that he was joking. Daniel gave a soft laugh, obviously wary of jostling his ribs too much. “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“I will let you out of bed once a day for that.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “Just once? But I can’t...” He peered carefully at Jack. “You’re joking again. Um... right?”

“Yes, Daniel,” Jack said, smiling. “Come on, the pizza will be here soon. You can eat on the couch.”

“I’m really fine,” Daniel said. He sat up quickly, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed and standing, as if proving his point. Jack’s guts clenched as he saw Daniel go pale and sway, and he lunged forward, catching him. Daniel leaned against him for a moment and then straightened, rubbing his forehead.

“That’s it,” Jack muttered, pushing Daniel back onto the bed. “I’m calling Fraiser right now. You might be bleeding internally for all I know.”

“Ja-ack,” Daniel protested. “I just stood up too fast. I haven’t eaten today.”

Jack scowled at him. “What? Why haven’t you eaten?”

“I was kinda nervous at breakfast, and then gym class was right before lunch and I was in the principal’s office, and then we came here...” Daniel spread his hands. “I guess I forgot.”

“So did I,” Jack admitted ruefully. He really needed to stop assuming Daniel would tell him what he needed. He’d have to anticipate, to check for himself how Daniel was feeling. “Are you sure you’re okay now? No dizziness? Do you feel like you might be sick?”

“I’m really okay,” Daniel insisted. “Actually, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll bet.” Jack sighed, and then helped Daniel stand again, hovering nearby until he was certain the kid wasn’t going to keel over. He helped Daniel put on a new shirt, and then stuck close all the way down the stairs, placing himself slightly in front of Daniel, in the perfect position to catch him if he stumbled. Daniel put up with it until Jack carefully eased him into the softest place on the couch, and then he heaved a put-upon sigh.

“Are you going to be like this for a long time?” he inquired.

“Yes. Get used to it.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, but Jack was well aware of the smile he was trying to hide. There was a knock at the door and Jack went to get the pizza, giving Daniel a warning look and pointing at the couch meaningfully. Daniel groaned dramatically but made no attempt to get up.

Once the pizza was in front of them, Daniel wolfed down a couple slices while Jack watched and ate at a more human pace. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, because so far Daniel seemed to have bounced back much too quickly.

Midway through his third slice, Daniel paused, and then swallowed with visible effort, picking at a long string of melted cheese. “Um, Jack?”

Here it was. “Yeah?”

“So... am I in trouble?”

“Well...” Jack frowned, considering. He was aware of Daniel’s tense shoulders, his fingers plucking nervously at the crust of his pizza, tearing off little bits. Daniel made no attempt to play on his sympathies by rubbing his ribs, which Jack approved of. He looked like he expected punishment, and was ready to take it. “I understand that you wanted to defend your friend. Talking to Rob was a good way to do that, but tripping him was not.”

Daniel nodded, shifting uneasily. “I know. Sorry.”

“The fight in the locker room wasn’t your fault, though.”

A lot of the tension went out of Daniel’s back. “Really?”

“Really.” Jack tilted his head to one side, then reached a thumb out and wiped a bit of pizza sauce off Daniel’s chin. “It won’t happen again, either. I’ll take care of that.”

Daniel still looked a little unsure about that one, but he nodded. “So, um, tomorrow...”

“First you’re going to see the doc.”

Daniel sighed but said, “Okay, after that?”

“Depends on what she says. If you need to stay home and rest, then I’ll take a few days off. If you’re okay, you can hang out in my office.”

“Really? I can come to work with you, even though I was bad?”

“You weren’t really bad,” Jack told him. “You made a mistake. There’s a difference.”

Daniel blinked, squishing a bit of mushroom between his fingertips and considering that. Then he grinned up at Jack and took another big bite, seeming to consider the matter closed.

They ate for a little while longer, halfway watching the news, and then Jack muted the TV and put his pizza down. “So, you’re okay?”

The look on Daniel’s face was hard to pin down. He seemed pleased by the attention, but also confused. A little exasperated, but not enough to actually want it to stop. “Yes, I’m okay. Really.”

“I don’t mean your ribs,” Jack clarified, waving. Any worries he’d had about Daniel’s relative health had been eased by the way the kid had packed away the pizza. “I’m talking about the fight itself. Must have been pretty scary. You want to, you know...” He twirled one hand meaningfully. “Talk or anything?”

Daniel gave him a puzzled look. “I’m fine. Rob wasn’t a big deal.”

Jack eyed his ribs. “I’d say he was a fairly big deal.”

Putting a pizza crust down, Daniel leaned back, gathering his thoughts. “Maybe for a normal kid. But a lot of bad things have happened to me. This is a little thing.”

Well. That certainly put things in perspective. “You know, I think you’re right,” Jack agreed. “This really isn’t that important.”

“Good.” Daniel picked up his pizza again.

“You’re still seeing the doc tomorrow.”

Daniel slumped against him, his head fitting comfortably into the hollow of Jack’s neck. “Oh, maaaaaan.”

Jack grinned and switched to a sports channel. Daniel was going to be fine.

Daniel thought he had been pretty sore last night, but he discovered that once his muscles had all night to stiffen, he reached a whole new level of discomfort. He was actually glad he’d been suspended, since the idea of going into school like this was less than appealing. He slowly sat up in bed, unable to suppress several low grunts of pain as his ribs and back protested the movement. His left side where Rob had stomped on him felt especially tight and achy.

He wondered if he could get away with calling Jack. Getting out of bed and down the stairs by himself seemed like an insurmountable task. Jack had been so nice the night before. He’d probably help... but Jack had also been worried. Maybe it was best not to worry him any more. He’d looked so happy when Daniel had eaten the pizza and relaxed on the couch with him, and it had been worth hiding the sharp pain in his side to make Jack happy.

Daniel decided he could get downstairs on his own. He’d already slept in way past the normal wake up time. Jack was going to be late for work. It was time to stop being lazy and get in gear.

Swinging his legs out, Daniel put his feet on the floor and then slowly pushed himself off the bed, gritting his teeth as his side pulled again. The big muscle in his right thigh where Rob had kicked him threatened to cramp up for a moment, and he rubbed it hard, consciously relaxing his leg. After several tense seconds, the muscle loosened, and he could stand up straight.

Alright. One foot in front of the other. He concentrated on the door, which was close, rather than thinking of the hall and the stairs. He could make it the four steps to the door. He wasn’t really hurt that badly. Once he got warmed up, it would be easy.

Daniel discovered that this was mostly true. The first step was the hardest, and turning the doorknob required muscles in his shoulder, which pulled at his chest again, but the walking did get easier. His legs were mostly unharmed, and as long as he held his upper body perfectly still, they carried him obediently down the hall.

The stairs, on the other hand, were a bit harder.

He took each step individually, putting both feet on it before moving to the next. Within three steps, the dull ache in his thigh had flared into something hot and sharp again, and the constant tugging in his left side didn’t bear mentioning. Two more steps and he had to lean on the wall, carefully keeping the pressure on his right shoulder, which was slightly less sore. Maybe doing this alone had been a bit of an optimistic plan.

“Daniel?”

Opening his eyes, Daniel saw Jack standing at the base of the stairs, watching him and frowning deeply. “Hi, Jack,” he said. Which was dumb. Why could he never think of smart things to say when it mattered? Jack was obviously worried. He should make a joke or something, act like he was fine.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, coming up toward him.

“Sure. Just, um... a little sore,” Daniel admitted.

“Uh-huh.” Jack stood beside him and touched his shoulder gently, then crouched down and lifted his pajama shirt, examining his ribs. He’d insisted Daniel take a long, hot bath the night before, which had felt wonderful and relaxed him enough to fall asleep, but apparently those effects weren’t permanent.

Daniel didn’t look down while Jack checked him over. He was sure the bruises were beginning to turn all sorts of ugly colors. Seeing himself injured always made his stomach feel unsteady, and it was already a bit shaky this morning. The last thing he needed was to get sick.

“You’ve got a lot of swelling right here,” Jack murmured, ghosting his fingers over the sharply painful spot in the middle of Daniel’s left side.

Daniel couldn’t help jerking away, hissing briefly between his teeth. “Can you please not do that?” he asked in a high, tight voice.

Jack knelt up, staring into Daniel’s eyes, frowning. “Sorry, buddy.” He threaded his fingertips through the sweaty fringe of hair on Daniel’s forehead, then pressed his palm flat against the skin, his frown deepening. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Just a little sore.”

“I’m thinking you’re more than a little sore.”

Daniel shrugged, and then winced. Moving his shoulders was bad. He’d have to remember that.

“Okay,” Jack said softly. “We’re going to do this very carefully. I’m going to pick you up and put you in the car. Then we’re going straight to the mountain and the doc is checking you out.”

“I can walk,” Daniel protested. “And I’m still in my pajamas.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind the PJ’s. And no, you can’t walk, not when going halfway down the stairs makes you look like this.”

“Oh,” Daniel murmured. Maybe he should have called Jack for help after all. He’d been trying to keep him from worrying, but Jack looked really worried now. Maybe if he hadn’t tried to do the stairs by himself he wouldn’t look so bad. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jack said, “but for future reference, if you wake up feeling this bad, call me, okay?”

“Okay.” Daniel couldn’t just leave it at that, though. He’d meant well, he really had. “I didn’t feel this bad when I woke up. It was just the stairs that got me.”

Jack made a shushing noise. “I know. Which side is worse? I’ll pick you up on the side that doesn’t hurt as much.”

Daniel pointed at his right side. “This one is better.”

“Okay.” Jack slid around him, carefully nudging him away from the wall. Then he swept one arm under Daniel’s knees and the other beneath his back, and just like that he was rising into the air. Jack didn’t even look like he was trying hard. Daniel suddenly felt small and very helpless. He couldn’t even walk down the stairs. Couldn’t even put on regular clothes. And pretty soon, he was going to have to ask Jack to help him to the bathroom. He felt his face begin to heat up and he ducked his head, burying it in Jack’s shoulder.

“You alright? Am I hurting you?”

Daniel shook his head, biting his lower lip hard. He hadn’t cried at all yesterday. Not when he thought Jack was mad at him, not when Rob had been kicking him, not even when Jack had kissed his forehead and told him it was okay. Why did he suddenly have to blink back hot tears just because Jack was carrying him down the stairs?

“Easy, Danny,” Jack murmured, his warm breath puffing against Daniel’s hair. “I just have to put you down a second so I can put my shoes on and get the door open. Then we’ll be out of here.”

“Not yet,” Daniel whispered.

“What?”

God, this was humiliating. “I have to... um, before we go...”

“Oh,” Jack said calmly. “No problem.” He veered away from the couch, carrying Daniel into the bathroom and setting him gingerly on his feet in front of the toilet. “You got this?”

Daniel nodded rapidly. His ears felt like they were on fire, and his legs were trembling treacherously. He wanted to ask Jack to leave, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words.

“I’ll be right back to get you,” Jack said, and he ducked out, leaving the door open.

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief and did what he needed to do quickly, then made his own way to the sink to wash his hands. He could at least do that much. He leaned on the sink afterward, looking at himself in the mirror. He had to admit that he didn’t look so great. Pallid skin, sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, and a certain tightness around his mouth that showed how much his side hurt. His stomach lurched and he closed his eyes, swallowing several times. He wasn’t sick. Not in the slightest. There was just something about looking sick that made him feel that way. So he wouldn’t look. No problem.

Jack stuck his head in the door. “You done?”

Daniel nodded. “Sorry,” he murmured, uncertain why he was apologizing. It was a fallback response whenever he felt uncomfortable or upset. ‘Sorry’ covered a whole lot of situations.

“It’s okay,” Jack assured him. “Up we go.” He lifted Daniel again, just as effortless as the first time. Daniel did his best to hang on. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had carried him. There was a dim image of his dad carrying him to bed after he fell asleep in his lap, but that was years old. He’d been too big to be carried for a long time. He pressed his face back into Jack’s shoulder, taking a deep breath of the scent that had grown familiar over the past couple months. If he could make it out to the car, he’d be fine. There was just something about feeling so small that made him need to swallow and blink rapidly.

The air outside was crisp and chilly. Colorado in early October had a real bite that cut through the thin material of his pajamas and made him shiver. Jack held him a little closer and angled his hip, pushing the door shut behind him. “Almost there,” he murmured against Daniel’s hair.

The passenger door of the truck was already open. Jack must have planned ahead and opened it while he was in the bathroom. Glad that he didn’t have to stand on the cold gravel driveway in his bare feet, Daniel helped Jack slide him into the seat, leaning back against it with his eyes closed.

“Hey,” Jack said softly. A warm palm cupped his cheek, and Jack’s thickly calloused thumb slid along his cheekbone. Daniel could feel the cold air hitting the moisture there and he pressed his cheek into Jack’s hand, craving the warmth.

“Sorry,” he whispered again. Sorry for being weak, for crying just because it had been so long since anyone had cared enough to carry him, for being unable to resist the kindness Jack offered. Just sorry.

“Shhh,” Jack said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have taken you to the doc last night. I had no idea you were hurt this bad.”

Daniel shook his head. His side hurt terribly, yes, but that wasn’t why he’d cried. He couldn’t explain that to Jack, though. He could barely explain it to himself.

Jack leaned in close for a moment, stroking his hair, pressing a dry, warm kiss to his forehead. Then he was gone and Daniel heard the door close. He kept his eyes shut. The darkness was comforting. He just needed a few minutes to get a handle on things. A little space, and he’d be fine.

Jack got in the driver’s side and leaned over, buckling Daniel’s seat belt for him. The belt pressed uncomfortably against his battered chest, but at least it didn’t touch the worst spot on his left side. Daniel felt the truck begin to move and he glanced over at Jack. Jack was driving, giving him frequent, concerned looks, his face tight and worried. Daniel looked out the window. He’d made Jack worried. Jack was late for work, and upset, and he looked sad, too, for some reason. Just because Daniel had mouthed off at a bully for once, instead of knuckling under.

Daniel could see a ghost of his reflection in the window. He closed his eyes again.

Daniel considered pulling the sheet up over his head and hiding.

Jack had carried him all the way through the mountain, which had been very nice but also very embarrassing. By the time they’d gotten to the infirmary, they’d had an entourage of concerned and helpful people, opening doors and asking questions and patting him awkwardly on the head. It felt good to be carried and to know everyone cared about him and to be the center of attention, but now Daniel really wanted them to all go away.

He had tried to tell Jack he really could walk. Stairs were difficult but level ground was not a problem. His legs were just fine. Mostly. It was not necessary to carry him through the entire base. Daniel had to admit that he hadn’t tried particularly hard to make Jack put him down, though. He could have insisted. If he’d sounded really serious, Jack probably would have let him walk.

It seemed that Jack had seen his protests for exactly what they were--token words so he wouldn’t feel like such a baby. He’d ignored them accordingly.

Now the crowd that had gathered to ask anxiously after his health was sort of milling around the general infirmary area, bumping into things and making noise. Daniel was very aware of his bed head and pajamas. At least he had his glasses. He’d put them on as soon as he’d sat up in the morning, the force of long habit.

“Alright, unless you’re injured, out of my infirmary,” Doctor Fraiser said, cutting through the crowd effortlessly. Much to Daniel’s relief, the majority of them cleared out, leaving him perched on a bed with Jack beside him, gently stroking his back. He wanted to tell Jack that he didn’t really need that reassurance either, but he figured it made Jack happy. So he’d humor him. But it wasn’t because he needed it.

Fraiser placed a cool, brisk hand on his forehead, then tilted his chin up and looked into his eyes. “Colonel?” she inquired, shooting Jack a questioning look.

“A bully at school did a number on him,” Jack said. “Had him on the ground and was kicking him pretty hard. Most of the damage is on his chest.”

She nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly. Daniel could see the way her mouth tightened, the snap in her rich brown eyes. She was probably impatient with having to treat a kid with a few bruises when she had lots of soldiers to take care of. He lowered his head, holding still as gentle hands raised his shirt.

Fraisier drew in a quick breath, her eyes widening, and then the professional demeanor was back. “Colonel? Could I have a word?”

The hand on Daniel’s back paused, and then disappeared entirely. Daniel resisted the urge to lean against Jack. “Doc, before you start, I know I should have brought him last night, but he really seemed fine.”

“These bruises are a day old,” Fraiser said. Her voice was very cold. Daniel looked uneasily between her and Jack. He didn’t want to get Jack in trouble.

“Yeah, the fight was yesterday, around lunchtime.” Jack held a hand up, stilling Fraiser’s next words. “I know, I know. I should have checked him right away, but from what I could see he didn’t have a mark on him, and when we got home he just went to his room and fell asleep for a while. It wasn’t until that evening that I realized what had happened.”

“Asleep?” she repeated suspiciously. Deft fingers were immediately in his hair, and Daniel flinched when they pressed against the bump on the back of his head. That was where he’d slammed into the lockers the day before. “There’s evidence of trauma here,” Fraiser informed Jack crisply. “Possibly a mild concussion.”

“Oh.” Jack had his head down. Daniel looked worriedly at him. That wasn’t good. Jack seemed really upset. Was it bad that he’d fallen asleep? He’d just had such a headache, and the bed had felt so good.

“Daniel, I’ll need you to take your pajamas off and change into a gown for me, please.” Fraiser’s voice was much gentler when she spoke to him. “Will you need any help?”

Daniel shrugged, and then winced, remembering that was a bad move. The doctor’s hands touched his ribs again, quickly finding the especially tender spot on his left side. Her fingers pressed and he flinched away, one hand clutching at Jack’s shirt.

“Hey!” Jack protested.

Fraiser stilled him with a look. Jack covered Daniel’s hand with his and stroked his wrist with one thumb, but he didn’t speak again.

“I’ll need an x-ray on this,” she murmured. “Is that a footprint?”

Daniel nodded. Jack’s hand tightened over his, squeezing reassuringly. Daniel wanted to close his eyes and hide his face against Jack’s shoulder again but he sat up straight, focusing on the little buttons on Fraiser’s shirt. It had been much easier to pretend everything was alright last night, when Jack had been fussing over him and he’d been in the safe, familiar living room. Here in the cold infirmary with the clear tension between Jack and Frasier, he felt his tenuous self-control slipping alarmingly.

Fraiser pulled her hands back and allowed his shirt to slip down. “Stay right here, honey,” she said gently. “A nurse will come and help you change into an infirmary gown.” She raised her head, giving Jack a very hard look. “I need to speak with you, Colonel.”

Jack nodded and stood, ruffling Daniel’s hair briefly and then following Fraiser out the door of the private exam room. Daniel sat on the bed, and shivered. The room had just gotten much colder. He was only alone for a few seconds, though, because a young woman with bright red hair, carefully pinned back, soon entered.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at him. “You must be Daniel. I’m Angie. I’ll just help you with your clothes, okay?”

Daniel nodded and allowed her to undo the buttons on his top. He could have done it, but she was supposed to help him. This was her job. He wasn’t about to give her trouble. Jack was already in trouble with Doctor Fraiser. Daniel figured he’d just better go along with whatever they told him, or she’d be mad at him too.

“I think it’s very likely that he has at least one cracked rib.”

Daniel sat up a little straighter. Angie had not entirely closed the door behind her, and he could hear Fraiser talking out in the hall. Was that about him? Did he have a cracked rib? He didn’t think so. He’d had a broken rib once and that had felt very different. Like something stabbing him inside every time he moved. Maybe cracked wasn’t the same as broken.

“I checked his ribs.” That was Jack. He didn’t sound happy. Not even a little bit. Was that his fault? He had told Jack nothing was broken. How was he supposed to know that cracked felt different?

“I’d be interested to know where you got your medical degree, Colonel.”

Daniel shivered. He hoped the doctor never talked to him with that voice.

“I know a thing or two about broken bones,” Jack retorted quietly. “And how was I supposed to know anything about a concussion? He wasn’t sick or sleepy last night.”

Well. He had been sleepy. Daniel had made the effort to appear bright and relaxed for Jack, mostly because he was so glad Jack wasn’t punishing him for getting in the fight. But as soon as he’d gotten back in his room after the bath, which had only made him sleepier, he’d been out like a light. Which was kind of weird, considering the long nap he’d had. Daniel didn’t know much about concussions. Did they make you sleepy?

“You can’t treat him like one of your soldiers,” Fraiser said. “Children are not only smaller, they have less bone density. They break more easily, can cope with less blood loss, and have altogether fewer reserves than an adult.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” she countered hotly. Daniel exchanged an awkward glance with Angie. She had helped him out of his pajamas and was now slipping the open backed gown up his arms. At least he got to keep his underwear.

“Doc--”

“Don’t ‘doc’ me,” Fraiser snapped. “Your first action upon picking him up should have been to check him over yourself, and the minute you saw a footprint--a footprint, Colonel--on his ribs, you should have brought him in.”

There was a long pause, and Daniel could imagine Jack nodding. “I guess I thought if he was really hurt, he’d say something. I didn’t expect a kid to keep so quiet about something like that.”

Fraiser’s voice was slightly softer this time. “Children can be very unpredictable. I know you’re trying to do your best for him, but in the future, err on the side of caution. If he’d had internal damage, he could have bled out in the night without a sound.”

Daniel swallowed. He wasn’t entirely sure what ‘bled out’ meant, but it didn’t sound good. He wished Angie would have shut the door. Now he knew that Jack was in trouble because he hadn’t said anything. Jack had told him lots of times that if something was wrong, he needed to speak up. Why did he have to keep hiding stuff?

Jack was awfully pale when he came back in. Angie saw him coming and finished tying the last knot on the gown, then slipped out the door. He crossed immediately to Daniel and sat down beside him. Daniel leaned over a little, hoping very much that Jack would put an arm around his shoulders. He was still cold, and his stomach was fluttering nervously. The words ‘bled out without a sound’ kept running around and around in his head. Jack’s shoulder was warm and solid and good to lean on, but Jack didn’t hold him. He was staring at the floor, and he kept swallowing.

“Jack?”

Jack gave him a weak smile. “How you doing, buddy?”

Daniel almost shrugged, but caught himself in time. “Okay.” Which wasn’t true, but he didn’t know how to say how he really felt. Jack would give him what he wanted if he asked, he was sure. Even if he just said he was cold, Jack would cuddle him close and rub his arms and generally make him feel a lot warmer. There were no penalties for asking. Daniel knew that, but somehow, he just couldn’t.

“That’s good,” Jack mumbled. “The doc is going to take good care of you, alright?”

“Aren’t you staying?” Daniel blurted before he could stop himself. “I mean... you don’t have to. I just thought...”

Jack tilted his head, looked at him steadily. “Do you want me to stay?”

Daniel nodded. “I mean... if you can. If you have to work I understand.”

“I’ll stay right here,” Jack said softly. “Listen, Daniel...” He sighed, looking down at the floor again. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you here sooner. I should have paid more attention.”

Daniel shook his head. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. If he hadn’t been trying so hard to act like everything was fine, Jack wouldn’t be in trouble. Fraiser had sounded really mad at him, and now Jack looked so unhappy. Maybe he was going to be punished? Daniel knew there were rules to being a foster parent. Maybe there were penalties for breaking those rules.

He stiffened abruptly, his hands clenching on the thin infirmary mattress. What if Jack wasn’t allowed to take care of him anymore? What if he was accused of neglect and Daniel had to leave?

Fraiser came bustling in then, pushing a wheelchair. Daniel eyed it distastefully. Being carried by Jack was one thing, but riding in that was something else entirely. He could walk.

“I’ll just take you down to x-ray,” she said briskly. “Colonel, if you’d help him into the chair?”

Daniel looked up at Jack hopefully. Maybe he’d insist on carrying Daniel. That would be good. He really wanted Jack to lift him, to hold him close again. But Jack nodded quietly and did as Fraiser asked, not meeting her eyes. He took Daniel’s hand and helped him to his feet, then allowed him to walk on his own the two steps to the chair. Daniel balked at sitting down.

“I can walk.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” the doctor told him. “You may still have a slight concussion, and Angie told me she saw some nasty bruises on your legs as well. Please sit down.”

Daniel gave Jack another pleading look, but Jack was staring at the floor and missed it. He sat down, shivering as the cold plastic seat touched the exposed skin of his back. He should say something. Jack would get a blanket for him if he asked. Why couldn’t he just speak up?

It was a quiet trip to the radiology lab. Jack still seemed very upset about something as he helped Daniel up onto a wide table without a word. Daniel had seen an x-ray machine before, but this was apparently a different model. A thick hinged arm with a square lens and a chunky looking plastic box on the end hung from the ceiling. Fraiser positioned him on the table, sitting upright, and then moved the big arm until the little crosshair lights centered over where Rob had stomped him. Then she retreated around the corner, but Jack put on a big heavy apron thing and stayed with him.

The actual process was quick. She asked him to take a deep breath and hold it, which pulled painfully at his chest, but he only had to do it twice before he got back in the wheelchair and headed to the little exam room again. Maybe once they got there Jack would hold him. Unless he was mad because Daniel had gotten him in trouble? Maybe that was why he was being so quiet and distant.

Jack lifted him from the chair and back onto the bed, then sat beside him. Their shoulders touched, but that was all. Daniel shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn’t even have to exaggerate the motion.

“You cold?” Jack asked.

Daniel nodded emphatically. Now Jack would pull him close and warm him up. But instead, Jack got up and opened a closet, pulling out a thick gray blanket. He wrapped it around Daniel’s shoulders. It was warm, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Thanks,” Daniel said. He could ask Jack now. The doctor was doing something with some paper on a clipboard. They were just sitting there. He could just say, ‘I want you to hold me’ and Jack would. He didn’t even have to ask. If he just pulled Jack’s arm, leaned against his side, Jack would get it. It would be easy.

Daniel opened his mouth to say the words--and then shut it again with a defeated sigh.

That was okay. He didn’t really need it. The blanket was warm enough. Jack was right beside him. He was a big boy.

“Okay, Daniel,” Fraiser said, smiling warmly at him. “While we’re waiting for the x-rays to come back, I’m going to do an ultrasound. That’s to see if you’re hurt anywhere on the inside.”

She explained the procedure to him, having him lay down and expose his belly. Cold gel was smeared on his skin, and then she rubbed a little plastic thing over him, showing him the shifting images on the screen as she went. They didn’t look like anything at all to him, but apparently they meant something, because after a while she nodded and turned the machine off.

“Am I okay?” Daniel asked as she cleaned the gel off.

“You’re just fine,” she assured him. He saw her eyes go up to meet Jack’s, who was standing beside the bed, holding Daniel’s hand. He squeezed Daniel’s hand and smiled down at him, and he looked a little happier. Maybe the ultrasound had been important. So it was good that his guts weren’t hurt anywhere. Did that mean that Jack wouldn’t be in trouble after all? Maybe if Daniel wasn’t really hurt, if his rib wasn’t cracked and all he had was a few bumps and bruises, Jack would get to keep him.

If he wanted to.

Daniel pulled the thick blanket back up to his chin, but he still couldn’t get warm. Jack’s hand let go of his, but he felt strong fingers threading through his hair, and Jack sat in the chair beside his bed, leaning close.

“You doing alright?” he asked, placing a warm hand on Daniel’s cheek. “Do you want me to ask for some more Tylenol?”

The Tylenol hadn’t really helped much the night before, but Daniel wasn’t about to say that. “It’s okay. Thanks.”

Jack nodded and squeezed his shoulder. Daniel found himself ridiculously touched that Jack had remembered which shoulder was sore, and had reached across him to avoid it.

Janet came back over then, and asked him some questions about how his head felt. She shined a little light in his eyes, which stung, and had him follow her finger back and forth. She noted something down on her clipboard and walked away again.

Daniel wanted to ask what she’d just written, but didn’t. So far things seemed to be going pretty well. Maybe if he didn’t make her angry again, she wouldn’t report Jack.

“We’re just waiting to get your x-rays back now,” she told him. “How are you feeling? Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

Daniel shook his head. His stomach was far too nervous to consider food, and he didn’t want to bother them with requests for a drink of water. He was going to be quiet and obedient and easy. They would think Jack was doing a very good job with him. He would get to stay.

They waited for a few minutes, Fraiser making little notes and neatening things in the room and Jack slowly rubbing his thumb over the back of Daniel’s wrist, over and over. Daniel wrapped his fingers around Jack’s, clinging tightly. Jack raised his eyes and frowned, squeezing back.

“Daniel?”

Daniel opened his mouth, unsure what was going to come out. Something had to. There were so many things jostling for space in his throat that something needed to escape. But before he could say anything, Angie swept into the room, carrying a thick yellow envelope.

“Here we are, doctor,” she said, handing the envelope to Fraiser.

“Thank you.” Janet began pulling the mottled gray and black plastic sheets from the folder and pinning them up against the lighted background of the viewer.

Jack’s hand abruptly tightened hard on his fingers, and then let him go entirely. Fraiser shot him a meaningful look, and he nodded. Daniel peered at the pictures, trying to understand what had just happened. He knew enough to recognize a spine and ribcage, but it all looked pretty normal to him. Was there something wrong with him? Something really bad?

“Jack?” he asked anxiously.

Jack lowered his head a little more. He couldn’t seem to meet Daniel’s eyes.

“You have a cracked rib,” Fraiser told him gently. “You’ll be okay, but it’s going to be sore for a while. I’ll give you some medicine so it doesn’t hurt as much, and you need to stay still and quiet as much as possible.”

Daniel nodded numbly. A cracked rib. He was covered in bruises and he had an actual broken bone. Social Services was going to yank him in a heartbeat. He wished Jack would hold his hand again.

Things went quickly after that. Fraiser wrapped his chest in a thick, snug bandage, which was called strapping. She gave him a pill to swallow that landed in his empty stomach and made him nauseous and lightheaded. The pain in his side did fade, though, so he guessed it was doing its job. Jack received a bottle of the pills, a package of more strapping material, and a long list of instructions. He nodded obediently to all of it, his face set and expressionless.

Daniel was allowed to walk out. He found that he missed being carried.

Jack was still kicking himself when they got home. Daniel had a cracked rib. A slight concussion. He could have had internal bleeding. And what had Jack done? Given him Tylenol and pizza. Great doctoring skills there. And hey, while we’re at it, great parenting skills. Yeah, the kid’s been in a fight. He’s obviously quiet and tense. Let’s snap at him and send him to his room without once bothering to check if he’s hurt. Good one.

He let Daniel walk from the truck into the house. Fraiser had given him some infirmary slippers so the gravel driveway wouldn’t bother his feet, and between the strapping and the heavy pain meds, he could walk just fine. When he pulled Daniel from the seat and set him on his feet, giving him a little nudge in the direction of the house, the boy gave him this hurt, disappointed look that made Jack drop his eyes. Well, of course he was disappointed. Jack had screwed up, hadn’t he?

It hadn’t been entirely his fault, though. If Daniel had just spoken up, or even if he’d allowed how he was feeling to show, Jack would have had him in the infirmary immediately. It was the pizza he kept coming back to. Daniel, relaxing on the couch, putting that pizza away. If he’d had a concussion, wouldn’t he have been nauseous? Had he choked the pizza down and then thrown it up later, when Jack wasn’t watching? How was he supposed to take care of Daniel if the kid was determined to hide everything from him?

“Sit down,” Jack said, putting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and steering him toward the couch. He felt Daniel go tense under his palm and yanked his hand back. He’d touched the wrong shoulder. Jack opened his mouth to apologize, and then shut it again. If he started apologizing for all the mistakes he’d made with Daniel, they would be here all day.

Daniel sat, his eyes following Jack around the room. When Jack ran out of pillows to futz around with, he sighed and sat opposite Daniel, looking him over. At least he was looking a bit better now, not so pinched and pale. His eyes were glazed with medication and the thickness of the strapping was visible under his pajama shirt, and he kept biting his lip. He would glance up at Jack, these little pleading, questioning looks, and then drop his eyes again.

“Hey,” Jack said softly. “You need anything?”

Daniel opened his mouth, then shut it again. “I’m okay.”

“Don’t do that,” Jack replied. “Don’t tell me you’re okay when you’re not. I need to know if something is wrong.”

Daniel leaned back, blinking at him, his mouth trembling slightly, and Jack winced. He’d snapped at the kid again.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, his stock response.

“No, I’m sorry,” Jack said tiredly. “Look, I just... I didn’t know you were hurt last night. I wish you had told me.”

Looking down, Daniel nodded. He tried to put his arms around himself and then flinched, dropping them back down. “Are you in trouble?” he asked in a very small voice.

Jack frowned. “In trouble? What do you mean?”

“Doctor Fraiser was yelling at you. I thought maybe you’d be in trouble.”

“Oh, you heard that, huh?” At Daniel’s nod, Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, she was pretty mad at me, but she’ll get over it.”

“Oh,” Daniel said. He began picking at the couch cushion.

“Are you hungry?”

Daniel shook his head. He darted Jack a look from under his eyelashes, another of those pleading looks, but Jack had no idea what he wanted. He wished Daniel would just come out and ask.

“Daniel, if you want something, tell me. I can’t read your mind.”

Huddling back into the couch, Daniel shook his head. Did that mean he didn’t want anything? Or that he couldn’t tell Jack? There was no way to tell. Daniel was a closed book.

Jack sighed and got up. “Well, I’m going to make some breakfast. I didn’t eat yet this morning. I’ll make some for you too, and if you feel like eating, you can. Alright?”

Daniel nodded, still watching him with those wide, wounded eyes. Jack imagined he saw an edge of accusation there, and he looked away, hustling into the kitchen.

Oatmeal was probably a safe option for an unsteady stomach. He had the instant microwave packet kind, which came with its own flavoring. He chose the maple nut for himself, and made Daniel a little bowl of the apples and cinnamon, which was usually his favorite. He set both on the table, poured some milk, and called Daniel into the kitchen.

Breakfast was very quiet. Daniel picked at the oatmeal, stirring it and poking it until it was gluey mush. He did drink the milk, though, which Jack supposed was something. When he saw Jack watching him, Daniel ducked his head and quickly swallowed two bites of oatmeal. Jack saw his mouth tighten, his shoulders hunching as he forced the food down.

“Hey, don’t,” Jack said. “Don’t force it. If you don’t feel like eating, you don’t have to.”

Daniel just looked at him. Hopelessly confused. “But... you don’t like to waste food.”

“This is different.” Which was a crappy explanation. Jack sighed and tried again. “I made it just in case you felt hungry. If you don’t feel good, you don’t have to eat it. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Daniel nodded. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

Daniel swallowed, and Jack saw him half raise his arms, trying to wrap them around himself before he remembered that doing that hurt.

“Crap,” Jack muttered. He propped his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m really not mad at you, Daniel. I’m just... having a bad morning.”

“I’m sor--” Daniel snapped his mouth shut on the word, ducking.

Jack put his spoon down with a hard snap. “Okay, that’s it.” He stood, going around to Daniel’s side of the table. He pulled Daniel carefully from his chair and carried him into the living room, aware that Daniel was stiff and trembling in his arms, watching Jack with wide, wary eyes.

“Jack? What...?”

Jack sat them down on the couch, pulling Daniel into his lap and holding him there. “Talk to me. If you’re mad that I didn’t take you to the doctor sooner, I understand. It’s okay to be mad. If something else is wrong, then it’s okay to tell me that, too. But talk to me, Daniel, whatever it is. Please.”

Daniel stared up at him for a moment, and then abruptly burrowed against his chest, clinging hard, his back shaking under Jack’s palm. Jack blinked at him, frowning. Now what was this? Daniel had been edgy and tense, and suddenly he was clinging and shaking? Jack began stroking his back automatically, making little hushing sounds. He never knew how Daniel was going to react. Maybe, with time, he’d get a handle on the kid, but for now it was like handling nitroglycerin.

“Daniel? What’s wrong?”

Daniel shook his head and kept his face buried in Jack’s shirt. He was starting to gasp slightly, his lungs rattling and wheezing, and Jack hushed him.

“Breathe, Danny. Easy now. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll fix it.”

Daniel was murmuring something over and over, and Jack couldn’t quite hear it, but he was pretty sure it would be the ubiquitous ‘sorry’ again. He pulled back slightly, trying to get Daniel to meet his eyes, but Daniel made a low sound of protest and clung harder.

“Please,” he mumbled into Jack’s shirt. “Just a little while, please, wanted this, cold, please, a little while...”

Jack only caught about half of what he said, but it was enough to make him close his eyes and tip his head back on the couch. He threaded his fingers through Daniel’s hair and rocked him a little, aware of the strapping around his ribs, the way his limbs trembled slightly in the grip of the medication. Aware of how light Daniel was, how impossibly fragile.

After a long while, Daniel’s grip on his shirt slowly eased, and his breathing leveled out. He remained pressed close, his cheek resting on Jack’s shoulder, his nose burrowed into the side of Jack’s neck. Jack kissed his forehead and felt a faint smile curl against his collarbone.

“Feel better?”

Daniel nodded. “Sorry.”

Jack sighed, stroking his back again. “I can see we won’t be leaving that word behind any time soon.”

“I’m, uh... I’ll try not to say it so much.”

“Good.”

They were quiet for a little longer, and then Daniel’s hand came up, idly tracing the seam of Jack’s shirt, his fingertips swirling around the buttons. Jack could feel the damp touch of eyelashes on his neck as Daniel opened his eyes. “Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“Are they going to take me away?”

Startled, Jack tried to push Daniel so he could see his face, but Daniel held on more tightly and stuck to him. He thought he was going to be taken away? Was that why he was clinging? Jack shook his head, his hand automatically going through Daniel’s hair again.

“Of course not. Why do you think that?”

One shoulder lifted in a semi-shrug. “Because I got hurt and you didn’t take me to the doctor right away. Social Services doesn’t like that kind of thing.”

Jack raised his eyebrows and felt a cold dart of real fear shoot through his guts. He hadn’t even thought of that. Daniel had a point. If he’d taken him to a regular civilian hospital, there would have been questions. Possibly an investigation by the foster care system. He could have lost Daniel that easily, and he’d never even realized.

“Ow,” Daniel muttered.

“What? Oh!” Jack abruptly released his arms, realizing that he’d been squeezing Daniel much too hard. “Sorry.”

“If I can’t say it, you can’t either.”

That surprised a laugh out of Jack, and he nodded. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Okay.” Daniel smiled against his neck again, and Jack brought his arms up, draping them very carefully over those battered ribs. “So... I’m staying?”

“You’re staying. Doctor Fraiser was upset with me, but she understood. Social Services won’t be involved.”

Daniel let out a huge sigh and slumped against him, his fingers clutching Jack’s shirt tightly and then letting go, smoothing the rumpled material. “I was a little worried.”

“Just a little,” Jack replied teasingly.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?”

Daniel took a deep breath and leaned back, frowning up at him. “I wanted to. But I...” He shook his head, giving another little half shrug.

“Daniel.” Jack lifted his chin, giving him a serious look. “It’s important that you talk to me. If you ever get hurt again, I need to know right away. And if you need something, or you’re worried about something, just tell me.”

“I know,” Daniel muttered. “I knew that, and I just... I couldn’t. I don’t know why.”

Jack nodded, pleased that at least Daniel hadn’t tried to apologize again. “Well, we’ll work on that. I’m guessing you wanted this too?” He gave Daniel a little squeeze to show what he was talking about.

“Yeah. I was cold and I didn’t know what ‘bled out’ meant but it sounded bad and the doctor was mad at you and you looked so... not happy and I thought...” He trailed off, pressing his cheek against Jack’s shoulder again.

Jack winced, absently kissing Daniel’s hair, which was conveniently close. He’d been feeling guilty and shut Daniel out just when the kid needed him. Another thing to feel guilty over. Great.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that,” Jack told him. “Bleeding out is something that only happens if you’re hurt inside, but remember, you had that ultrasound and it said you were fine. The doctor was mad at me, yeah, and she probably will be for a while, but that’s my fault, not yours. And no, I wasn’t happy, but that was because I felt bad for not taking care of you better.”

Daniel goggled at him, and then shook his head. “But I didn’t tell you. And I tripped Rob and made him stomp me and talked back and if I’d just been quiet then none of it would have happened or if I told you right away...”

“Never mind all that,” Jack said. “We both made some mistakes, okay? Let’s just try not to make them again.”

Daniel seemed to consider that, and then he nodded. “Okay.” He plonked his head on Jack’s shoulder and began crunching the material of his shirt in one fist. His eyes were drooping, his breathing growing deep and steady. Jack figured that was more due to stress and pain medication than the lingering effects of the concussion, which Fraiser had said was very mild.

“Do you think you can sleep a little while?” Jack asked.

“Mmm-hmm... Jack?”

“Yeah?”

Daniel bit his lip, and then said in a blurred rush, “Don’t put me down.”

“You want to sleep right here?”

“Yeah.”

Jack smiled. At least the kid had been able to ask, even if he’d needed to be half-asleep and woozy from meds to get the words out. “You got it. I’ll be right here.” He patted Daniel’s back for emphasis, his hand drifting up and rubbing the nape of his neck.

Daniel nodded sleepily and settled in, shifting and wiggling until he was arranged to his satisfaction. Then he dropped off between one breath and the next, his body growing limp and heavy in Jack’s arms.

Resting his head on the back of the couch, Jack decided he’d made some real progress here. Daniel wasn’t just going to be instantly open with him, but this was, at least, a start.

The first day of being coddled, cuddled, and generally hovered over had been nice. So nice, in fact, that Daniel had found himself inexplicably on the verge of tears several times, something he didn’t really understand. Still, it felt good, even if it stung the backs of his eyes sometimes.

The second day was still pretty nice, but as the pain in his side eased and he could get around more easily, he grew a bit impatient with Jack’s insistence on helping him. He liked reading, yes, but he was also ten years old and sometimes needed to run around outside a little. To dig in the backyard and climb a tree and thud up and down the stairs a few times for no particular reason.

By the third day, he was more than ready to go back to school. However, Jack and Janet vetoed him. According to his follow-up x-ray, the bone still needed to rest, and despite his assurances that he would sit still in class and not run around in gym, he was kept home yet again. Jack wouldn’t even hear of taking him in to work. He’d decided that Daniel’s injury was a good excuse to take the week off, and he was using it. At least, that was what he said. Daniel suspected he still felt a little guilty and was overcompensating a bit, but he didn’t argue. Because all the cuddling really was nice. He just wished Jack would let him do a few things on his own.

Daniel was trying not to worry too much about seeing Rob in school again. Jack kept telling him he would take care of it and Daniel wanted to believe Jack could work some magic that would make Rob go away, but to his knowledge, problems didn’t disappear just because he wanted them to. He told himself it would be okay. Dudley would be with him.

They were curled on the couch together, Jack patiently explaining the rules of hockey yet again, pleasant smells coming from the kitchen as the lasagna cooked for dinner, when the phone rang. Jack extricated Daniel from his lap with such care that Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes, hopping away.

“I’m fine,” he said, exasperated. “You’re going to miss the phone.”

Jack grinned and darted into the kitchen, catching the phone just before the answering machine would have picked up. “Hello?” There was a pause, and then a low, questioning voice: “Yes... who is this?”

“Jack?”

Jack waved at him, then put a finger up to his lips. “I see. Yes, he’s here.”

“Is it for me?” Daniel got up, walking up to Jack and reaching for the phone.

Jack pulled the mouthpiece away and covered it with one hand. “Sit down.”

Daniel sighed and sat in a kitchen chair, making sure the movement was slow and careful just so Jack couldn’t admonish him again. Between the strapping that they changed every day and the muscle relaxants for his sore, bruised chest, he hardly hurt anymore, but Jack insisted he take it easy.

“Yes, you can talk to him,” Jack said into the phone. He held it out to Daniel. “It’s Dudley, apparently.”

Daniel sat up straight and snatched the phone away. “Dudley?”

The voice that came over the line was already familiar. “Hi, Daniel. I hope it’s okay that I called your house.”

“It’s fine!” Daniel paused, considering. “How did you get the number?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” He could picture Dudley’s dismissive shrug. “It was in the school records, and their computer system is so easy to get into.”

“Wow,” Daniel murmured. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah, computers are kind of my thing. Hey, how come you weren’t in school today?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Because Jack wouldn’t let me. He’s still all worried about my ribs.”

Jack, leaning against the wall, folded his arms and gave Daniel a pointed look.

“And because the doctor said so,” Daniel added hastily. “Jack is really taking good care of me.”

Jack smiled and Daniel flapped a hand at him, raising his eyebrows. He nodded and ducked out, settling back into the couch.

“The doctor?” Dudley asked. “What’s wrong with your ribs?”

Daniel grinned. He had an actual war story to tell now, just like Jack. “Rob broke one of them when he stomped on me. I had to have x-rays and everything.”

“No way,” Dudley breathed. “Really? Geez, I bet Jack was mad.”

“He says he’s going to get Rob kicked out of the school,” Daniel said proudly.

“Oh... so that’s why he wasn’t here.”

Daniel sat forward, his eyes widening. “He’s already gone? I didn’t know Jack did it. Maybe he was just home sick or something.”

“Hang on,” Dudley told him. “I can check.” There was a pause, and the distant sound of tapping on a keyboard. “I’ve got his record. Wow, he’s been in trouble a lot of times... look at all these detentions... yep, it says right here, he was expelled two days ago.”

“Wow.” Daniel looked into the living room, where Jack was muttering darkly about blind referees and waving at the TV. “Jack wasn’t kidding.”

“He did this?”

“He said he would,” Daniel replied. “He said he knew people too, and he wouldn’t risk me getting hurt again.”

“That is so cool,” Dudley said. “You’re lucky.”

Daniel thought about that for a minute. He’d never considered himself to be particularly lucky. Kids who lived with their mom and dad were lucky. But maybe he should learn to take his luck where he got it. Maybe winding up with Jack wasn’t as good as if he was still with his parents, but all things considered, it could still be good. Just in a different way.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess I am.”

“Hey, I wanted to ask...” Dudley cleared his throat, and there was a crunching noise that Daniel guessed meant he was eating something. “Um... did you maybe want me to bring you the school work you missed this week?”

“Hey, that would be great,” Daniel replied eagerly. He’d love something to do besides watch TV with Jack, or read with Jack, or play chess with Jack. Not that Jack wasn’t fun to be around, but there were limits. “Will your mom let you come over here?”

“Um...” Now Dudley sounded embarrassed. “Our car is pretty broken down. And, um, gas is expensive. That’s why I take the bus. I can only come over if Jack can give me a ride.”

“He can probably do that. Hang on a sec.” Daniel tried twisting in his chair, winced, and then stood up and turned toward the living room instead. “Hey, Jack,” he called, raising his voice. “Can Dudley come over?”

Jack came over to him, gently pushing him back into the chair. “When? Did his parents say he could?”

Daniel held a finger up. “Dudley? When did you want to come? And did your mom say you could?”

“Uh... I don’t know. I’d have to ask her.”

“Okay.” Daniel put his hand over the mouthpiece. “He has to ask her.”

Jack grinned. “Hey, how about I just talk to his mom instead of having this whole conversation through you two. Why does he want to come over?”

“He’s bringing the work I missed this week,” Daniel replied, glad he had a good reason for Dudley to come over. He wanted to show him his room. Oh, and the strapping around his chest, and the copy of the x-ray that Janet had let him keep. She’d even circled the broken place for him. Once it had been pointed out, Daniel could see a tiny, crooked black line across the whiteness of the rib, which wasn’t very impressive, but he bet Dudley would think it was cool.

“Good reason,” Jack said with a little smirk. Daniel thought maybe he knew a few things about glib excuses. “Let me talk to his mom. We’ll work something out.”

“Okay.” Daniel handed the phone over and tapped impatiently on the table while Jack talked.

He only listened in halfway, planning what he and Dudley would do together. He bet Dudley would be interested in his book about how the pyramids were constructed. He’d like the geometry of it, the architecture. Maybe they could go in the backyard and he could show Dudley how an archaeological dig was done, how the layers were carefully documented and scraped away one at a time. He bet working together they could get through the school work they’d missed really fast.

Jack touched his shoulder to get his attention, and then handed him the phone. “Say goodbye quick, okay? He lives really close by. We’re going to pick him up and he can have dinner with us.”

Daniel beamed at him. “Really? That’s great, thanks Jack.”

Jack ruffled his hair. “No problem. Tell him we’ll see him in a few, okay?”

“Sure.” Daniel brought the phone to his ear. “Dudley?”

“Hey, Daniel, guess what? My mom says I get to go over there right now and have dinner with you and I have to go get ready now because I don’t have my shoes on or anything and I have to get the school stuff together and is there anything you want me to bring extra? I have a computer game we could play--you have a computer, right? Sure, everyone has a computer, we could play it because I don’t think the homework is going to take very long.”

Daniel blinked and laughed a little bit. “Sure, bring whatever you want. I have to go get ready too.”

“Okay see you later Daniel bye!”

Daniel stared at the phone in his hand and then hung it up, still grinning. Dudley talked really fast when he was excited. Daniel liked that.

“Hey, come on, buddy, shoes, jacket,” Jack said, touching his shoulder again. “I’ll help you.”

“Jack, I can really do it,” Daniel protested, but he allowed Jack to tie his shoes for him anyway. It did still hurt to bend over like that. However, he insisted on doing the jacket himself.

Jack slipped his own shoes on, checked to make sure they had plenty of time with the lasagna, and grabbed his keys. “So. You ready to go pick up your friend?”

Daniel paused, and a slow smile spread across his face. His friend. He had a friend now.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”

“No, Jack, no glitter.”

Jack frowned, but put the canister of gold glitter back on the shelf. “Are you sure? I thought those Egyptian types were in to gold.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “That’s because of stupid movies. No gold. A pharaoh would wear something simple and clean, mostly white linen. It’s cool in the desert, and the white indicates he’s connected with purity and divinity, and he doesn’t have to work and get dirty like a commoner.”

“Huh,” Jack said. Someone needed to give the Goa’uld a memo about the “simple and clean” thing. “So, you’re going to wear a white dress?”

“No, I said mostly white linen. There’s more to it. And it’s not a dress, Jack. They’re robes.” Daniel shook his head, clearly aghast at Jack’s lack of knowledge about what a real pharaoh would wear. They were at the local Wal-Mart, searching for the perfect Halloween costume for Daniel. Jack had allotted one hour for this particular mission. They would sort through the ready made costumes, Daniel would sigh and deliberate and eventually choose one, and they would go home. Simple as that.

Daniel, apparently, had not read the mission briefing.

The costume selection had been mocked. Mercilessly. “That’s supposed to be a mummy? If some idiot had actually tried to mummify a body that way, they would have had their tongue cut out so everyone would know how they had insulted the dead. And what is that, a dog or something? Does anyone actually want to wear a collar?”

Now it was necessary to create a costume from scratch. Jack was willing to go along, as long as there was no sewing required. He drew the line at sewing.

“This is good,” Daniel said, sliding his hand over a bolt of cloth. It was a pristine white, and according the label, it was linen. Jack fingered the thin material, and wrinkled his nose.

“Do you know how to make a robe from this?”

Daniel blinked, looked at the cloth, then at Jack, and then his gaze traveled to a row of sewing machines in the next aisle. “Well... I could sort of help...”

“No. No sewing.”

“But...” Daniel shut his mouth and nodded, still fingering the fine material. He scuffed one foot along the floor, his head down. “Okay,” he mumbled.

Well, crap. Jack considered the bolt of cloth, and for a moment gave serious thought to the sewing machine, but then he pictured the inevitable result of combining his nonexistent sewing skills with Daniel’s sketchy directions and the fact that Halloween was tomorrow.

Nope. Plan B.

“How about that?” Jack asked, spotting something good three aisles down. “It’s a robe. And look, it’s white!”

Daniel stared where Jack was pointing and walked closer, a dubious look on his face. “It’s a bathrobe,” he stated. Unspoken, but clearly heard: you have got to be kidding.

“Well... yeah,” Jack admitted. “But, it’s still a white robe. Linen might be fine for Egypt, but Colorado is a little too cold for that. Halloween night, nothing keeps you toasty like good old terrycloth.” He fingered the thick, fluffy sleeve of the robe and smiled encouragingly.

Daniel didn’t look convinced. He touched the robe, and then sighed and dropped his hand. “No, that’s okay, Jack. You were right, making my own costume is too complicated. Let’s get one of the normal ones.”

“You didn’t like any of them.”

“No, no, they’re fine,” Daniel insisted. “I was just being too picky. I’m sorry. I want to get a normal costume and be like all the other kids. Nobody else will be a pharaoh.”

Jack straightened, crossed his arms, and gave Daniel a long, appraising stare. Daniel pasted an earnest smile on his face and managed to keep eye contact for about ten seconds before looking at the floor again.

“Daniel...” Jack crouched down, saying a silent apology to his knees, and wrapped his hands around the boy’s upper arms, waiting patiently for Daniel to meet his eyes. “Is that really what you want? The truth, now.”

Daniel shook his head.

“You want to be a pharaoh?”

Hesitation, and then a small nod.

“Then give me something to work with. What did these guys wear, besides a white robe?”

“Well... that depends,” Daniel replied, his enthusiasm returning. “The early dynasties were actually more ornate, in the height of the empire, and the pharaoh would wear the greatest jewels of his treasury to display his wealth. Often this meant a huge, complicated arrangement of chains around the neck and shoulders, with many pendants. Sometimes a pharaoh would have so much jewelry, so many gemstones and thick chains that his servants would have to help him stand, because of the weight.”

“Wow,” Jack said, grinning at Daniel’s excited chatter. “Thought they weren’t into gold?”

“No, I said no gold glitter. The clothes weren’t gold, but they liked to wear it. Also ivory, and highly polished wood pieces.”

“Okay, so we get some chains and gems. Anything else?”

Daniel beamed at him. “You mean we can still do it? Even if it means buying more stuff?”

“Sure we can.” Jack held up a finger, tilting his head to the side. “But I hope you know we’re getting costume jewelry. Real gold is a little out of my price range.”

“Well yeah, Jack. I knew that.” Daniel quickly flipped through the rack of bathrobes, grabbing the smallest one. “We need a belt too, Jack. Oh, and a scepter! Although that might take some... assembly. And sandals!” He looked around, oriented on the shoe section, and set off at a run, the hem of the robe dragging on the floor behind him.

Jack chuckled as he followed along, catching the robe and dropping it in their cart. Daniel, already perusing the sandal selection, didn’t even notice.

“Well, if it isn’t the great Mountie himself. Rescued anyone lately?”

Dudley paused on the front porch uncertainly, a guarded little half smile on his face that suggested he thought the joke was, as usual, on him. “Sir?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Thought I told you to call me Jack. And it’s a joke, Dudley. You know... Wainwright, Do-Right...” At the boy’s continued blank expression, Jack sighed and stepped aside. “Never mind. Daniel’s waiting for you.”

Dudley eased his considerable bulk past Jack, still offering that nervous little smile. He took two steps into the house, paused, and then turned, fiddling with the handles of the ragged duffle bag he carried. “Uh, sir... I mean, Jack...”

“Yeah?”

“I’m supposed to say thank you for taking me trick or treating with you and Daniel, and, um, thanks for picking me up from school so my mom could work, and... uh, for watching me all afternoon, and... and...”

Jack started to laugh quietly and Dudley’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing. Jack smiled and waved a hand. “Easy, big guy. I’m not laughing at you. You just... you remind me of Daniel sometimes.”

Dudley blinked. “Oh,” he said. He didn’t exactly mind being compared to Daniel. Daniel was skinny and smart and could talk rings around everyone he knew.

“And you’re welcome. Is that your costume?”

“Yeah.” Dudley held the bag a little closer to his side.

“Dudley!”

Immediately straightening, his nervous half smile broadening to the real thing, Dudley turned and looked toward Daniel’s voice. Daniel came thumping down the stairs, his arms full of white terrycloth and gold plastic.

“Hey, is that it?” Dudley asked, reaching out and hooking one sausage-like finger around a huge, glittering blue pendant. “What does it look like when you put it on?”

“Here, help me and I’ll show you,” Daniel replied, dumping the whole mess on the floor. Both boys crouched down and began sorting out the various bits.

Jack, standing forgotten by the door, leaned against one wall and watched. He hadn’t been sure of Dudley at first--the kid was huge, taller than Daniel by at least a foot, with great ham fists, a waistline that threatened to overwhelm his extra large pants, and a determined, plodding way of moving that made him think of one of those huge four legged robot fighters from Star Wars. He kept his head down and tended toward sullen silence in Jack’s company, and seemed like exactly the type he expected to be shaking Daniel down for his lunch money.

But Daniel had seen something that he hadn’t. Jack had to admit, Dudley was a different person around Daniel. He stopped slouching to hide his height, his wary, closed expression relaxed into a genuine grin, and his monosyllables gave way to a startlingly quick mind.

Daniel, surprisingly, seemed to be the leader of the two. He spoke unhesitatingly to Dudley, self-confident and certain. He was chattering about the costume, and how a real pharaoh would be wearing linen, but he had decided that linen would be impractical with the cold weather, and had instead chosen the terrycloth as an acceptable substitute. Jack covered his grin with one hand. Daniel seemed to have some selective memory there.

Daniel stood, the robe draped around him, the hem touching the floor. It was belted with a slim, twisted brown leather belt instead of the white tie it had come with. On his feet were strappy leather sandals of the same color, and Daniel had plied Jack with the puppy eyes until Jack got him a couple strips of rawhide to criss-cross up his calves in an effort to make the sandals look more authentic.

Dudley began to place the chains around his neck, in a precise order dictated by Daniel, until all seven of them were just so. The scepter, a modified baton with a gold painted cardboard cutout of an ankh on one end, completed the image. Daniel hoisted the robe up so it didn’t drag on the floor, lifted his chin, and removed his glasses. “Pharaohs don’t wear glasses,” he said.

“It’s really great, Daniel,” Dudley told him. “The chains, especially. Did you notice that each chain has a different number of links in it? The smallest one actually has the most links, because they’re very small. It has fifty three separate pieces. And you have seventeen gemstones. Is that important, to have the jewelry consist of prime numbers? Although some of the chains have two gems on them. But then, two is technically a prime number. It’s the only even prime number. Is that deliberate?”

Daniel, unfazed by this, grinned and shook his head. “No, actually, I didn’t think of that. They’re worn in order of value. The most precious gemstones are worn closest to the body, to protect them from being stolen by marauders. You may be onto something with those prime numbers, though. Many cultures placed a lot of significance on numerology. In Egypt, the number seven was considered especially powerful.”

“Seven is a prime number,” Dudley supplied immediately.

“Exactly,” Daniel nodded. “So, see, you’re probably right.”

“And you have seven chains altogether!” Dudley was getting excited, and he leaned in, lifting the top two chains to reveal the third one in, a gaudy number bedecked with bits of glittering red glass. “And this chain has forty nine links in it, which is seven squared. Daniel, this costume is just...” And he shook his head, grinning broadly, his thick, pudgy cheeks drawn up. “It’s really good,” he finished, shrugging. Words were not Dudley’s strong point.

“Thank you,” Daniel said simply. “I’m glad you like it.”

Dudley nodded and leaned close again, fingering the chains, his lips moving. Daniel stood, apparently unperturbed to have someone who had to be twice his weight in his personal space.

“So,” Jack said, clapping his hands together. He’d seen the boys chatter back and forth at each other for hours about the craziest stuff, and he knew they’d do just that if he didn’t steer them a little. “Dudley, what’s your costume?”

“Yeah,” Daniel added. “You kept saying it was a secret. I want to see! What did you get?”

Dudley pulled back, thrusting his hands into his pockets and shrugging. “It’s dumb. Yours is better.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jack said. He was largely ignored. He didn’t mind, though, as Daniel seemed to have a better response. He was already digging through Dudley’s bag, his chains clunking against the floor as he knelt, his robe bunched up between his knees.

“My mom said it’s silly to go buy a costume that I’m only going to wear one day,” Dudley said, doing nothing to stop Daniel from pawing through his stuff. “And besides, most of the store costumes... well, you know.”

Daniel shrugged, dismissed that as if it didn’t matter. Because yes, of course most of the costumes for kids wouldn’t fit Dudley, whose head reached Jack’s shoulder and whose weight had to approach two hundred pounds. That he wouldn’t be able to find a viable costume was a given. Daniel didn’t seem inclined to belabor the point.

A tattered pair of jeans was now laid out on the floor, followed by a denim vest with two buttons missing and a torn pocket flap. A dingy white tee shirt that would hang to Daniel’s knees was next. Two worn black work boots, creased leather ingrained with dirt, and finally, a threadbare dark green woolen cap.

Daniel examined the array of clothes, frowned thoughtfully, and then grinned up at Dudley. “You’re a pickpocket!”

“What?” Dudley shook his head. “No, I’m supposed to be a bum. There’s some glue, too, so I can stick bits of coffee grounds to my face and look like I have a beard.”

“No, no,” Daniel replied. “Watch.” He pointed to the vest, then flipped it open, tracing his finger over an inner pocket. “See, this is your hidden pocket where you keep the wallets and stuff that you lift. And here, see the boots?” He lifted them, indicating the worn soles, the tread all but gone. “They’re specially altered so you can walk quietly, and sneak up behind people. See, we can both be Egyptian things. I’ll be the pharaoh, and you can be my trusty spy, disguised as a simple pickpocket to hear what people on the street are saying.”

Dudley crouched down beside him and poked the hat dubiously. “What about this?”

“Well, that’s to hide your royal mark, of course.”

Jack leaned forward, raising his eyebrows. This sounded interesting.

“Royal mark?” Dudley repeated.

“Yeah. All of the pharaoh’s most trusted men have them. A gold tattoo on the forehead, bearing the sign of the ruler.”

Well, Jack thought. Gee, wonder where he picked that up?

Dudley was beginning to smile. “A tattoo? Really?”

“Yeah, with my mark. We’ve got some gold paint left, so I bet we could put it on you. But no coffee grounds. You’re supposed to be a kid.”

“I thought I was a spy.”

“You are,” Daniel insisted. “It’s just that all the pharaoh’s best spies are kids, because no one suspects them. You have this disguise, and everyone thinks you’re just some poor kid, out stealing because you don’t have any money. Nobody even looks at you twice. But really, you’re the top secret agent, picking up all the classified stuff for your pharaoh.”

“Oh,” Dudley said slowly. “Okay, now I get it. What’s your symbol?”

Daniel frowned, and then cast around, his eyes landing on his scepter. “This!” he said, raising it and showing Dudley the cardboard ankh. “It’s the Egyptian symbol of immortality.”

“Okay, but... how about this instead?” Dudley countered. He drew a simple figure with his finger on the carpet, a sideways eight. “It’s the symbol for infinity.”

“Is that what you want?”

Dudley shrugged, and then nodded, grinning. “Yeah. I mean, infinity is such an amazing concept. It’s like, take the biggest number you can possibly think of, and then add one. And then another one. And another. It never stops. No matter how big your numbers are, there’s always just one more. So infinity is never a fixed value, it’s never quantifiable, so some people argue that it doesn’t even exist.”

And they were off again. Jack, satisfied that Daniel had things well in hand, went into the kitchen and got together a snack for the boys. Yeah, he hadn’t liked Dudley much in the beginning, but this was one time he was glad to be wrong.

Jack stood up when the teacher introduced him, surprised at how awkward he felt. He was glad he had decided to wear the dress blues; from the classroom buzz it was obvious the medals and ribbons impressed the hell out of the kiddies and that was good. He wanted Daniel to be proud of him.

The Waterford School had a tradition. Throughout the year, each parent, or in Daniel's case, foster parent, signed up for a morning visit to talk to the class about their career. By the end of the school year every child in the class would better know their classmates, and be offered a unique insight into a wide variety of possible career choices. Today was Jack's turn. He'd signed up early to get it over with. Damn Carter and Fraiser for getting him into this.

Mrs. Carlisle offered a chair that Jack refused as he stood smartly in front of the class. "I work for the United States Air Force," he smiled. He couldn't mention visiting other planets or piloting motherships so he settled for the next best thing. "I fly jets."

An excited murmur rippled through the class. Before Jack had a chance to continue, one of the kids raised his hand. Jack licked his lips and nodded for boy to go ahead.

"Daniel said his father's an archaeologist." The confused look on the boy's face confirmed his sincerity.

"My father is an archaeologist, Jack's my guardian," Daniel clarified before Jack had a chance to come up with a suitable reply

Guardian? That sounded so cold. And it's 'was', Jack thought childishly. Your father 'was' an archaeologist.

The comment took the wind out of his sails and the nervousness left him. Daniel wasn't counting on him to 'wow' his friends. He was bragging about his 'real' parents' accomplishments. That was fine, normal in fact. So why did he feel so deflated? Jack finished his spiel without difficulty. The majority of the kids seemed excited, just not the kid he was most hoping to impress. His keen sense of disappointment was childish and he knew it. It wasn't a competition. What the hell was wrong with him?

Jack didn’t have an opportunity to talk to Daniel after he finished extolling the virtues of the United States Air Force as a viable career option. He needed to get back to his occupation of choice ASAP.

By the time he arrived home that evening, Daniel didn't seem the least bit concerned about Career Day. He hadn't mentioned it, and that was fine and well with Jack. Boring budget meetings and petty personnel problems at the SGC had reduced the morning's disappointment to a practically forgotten blip on his radar screen.

Daniel was hovering, waiting for him to finish eating his reheated spaghetti dinner. A taped PBS documentary that explored the reality and myths of Ancient Egypt was firmly clutched in his hand. Personally, Jack couldn't tell the facts from the fiction and wasn't about to ask a ten year old.

After setting his plate in the dishwasher, Jack took the tape from Daniel and headed for the living room. He stuck it into the VCR and sat down on the couch with a tired sigh. Daniel had a pillow on the floor along with his blanket. "You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable up here with me?"

"Nope, I like the floor."

"Suit yourself, kiddo." Jack took in the sight of Danny lying on the blanket, flat out on his stomach, his legs bent at the knees, his feet dangling, slowly moving back and forth. Daniel rarely kept still. Ah, to be young again. "Okay, here we go." Jack hit the play button, not the least bit confident he'd stay awake for more than a snippet of the taped two hour special.

The opening scene was a shot of Cairo, which Daniel appeared to know quite well. "We used to shop there. See that, Jack, that's the bazaar where my mom used to take me."

After about fifteen minutes the scene shifted to the Nile and then to the great pyramids. Daniel periodically babbled comments, more to himself it seemed than to Jack.

The next time Jack's eyes opened he was slightly disoriented until he realized he was still on the couch and the taped special was still showing on the television. Something was wrong though. Daniel was perfectly still on the floor, except for his shoulders, which were trembling slightly.

"Danny, you okay?" When there was no answer Jack rubbed at his eyes in an effort to wake up and tried again. "Daniel?" Jack sat up and slid down to the floor in a sitting position, keeping his legs straight out in front of him to avoid painful knees. He wrapped his hand around Daniel's ankle and gave it a shake. "Hey, you okay?" He glanced up at the screen but there was nothing scary about the scene, just a sandy old desert. Even though it had been well over two and a half years since Daniel had glimpsed Egypt, Jack wondered if the kid was homesick.

"I-I'm fine," came the shaky reply that sounded anything but fine to Jack's well tuned ears.

"Hey, come here." Jack tugged on the ankle again and was surprised at the speed Daniel showed in bolting upright and catapulting into his lap. With Daniel's head safely nestled under his chin, Jack softly questioned him again. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

It took more than a few minutes. "My mom and dad are d-dead, I can't see them anymore," he whispered.

"I know, buddy." Ah, shit!

"No, you don't understand," Daniel insisted tearfully. "I can never go home again."

Knowing there were no words strong enough to soothe this particular hurt, Jack did what he could by holding on tight and rubbing small circles over Daniel's back and shoulders hoping the boy could cry this out and be done with it. With Danny nestled so close, Jack felt, as well as heard the barely perceptible wheeze in the sobbing chest. "All right, that's it. I'll be right back." Using the couch cushion as leverage, Jack hoisted himself to his feet leaving Danny slumped on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. He returned quickly with the nebulizer.

Without a word, Jack eased himself back down into a sitting position behind Daniel, turned on the little yellow machine and held the mask over the sad face. "There ya go, you're fine, I got ya." With Daniel leaning back against his chest, Jack kept up a steady stream of soothing words until Daniel was able to breathe deeply into the mask and calm down. Fifteen minutes later the crisis had been averted.

"Okay?" Jack asked cautiously, setting the nebulizer aside and pulling Daniel tight against his chest.

"Sorry." Daniel nodded sheepishly.

"Sorry? You didn't do this on purpose, there's no need for sorrys." Jack planted a kiss in the sweat soaked hair.

When Daniel didn't comment Jack continued. "I know your parents are gone and I know what it's like to lose someone you love, but sometimes you have to look at the good things that happen too, not just the bad. Even when the bad things are really bad." He gave him a protective squeeze. "You have a home with me."

Daniel was quiet for a long time. "You lost Charlie," he finally said, keeping his nose buried in Jack's chest.

"Yes." Jack's heart immediately picked up the pace, pounding hard, that subject still rattled him to the core.

"You loved him," Daniel continued.

It was a statement rather than a question but Jack answered anyway. "Yes, very much." His breath hitched and the nebulizer suddenly looked like a good idea.

"Why did he die, Jack?" the question was simple and childlike and Jack decided Daniel deserved an answer.

Swallowing down the pain in his throat, he tried to explain. "He died because I wasn't careful enough."

"No, that can't be right, you're always careful," Daniel contradicted, tilting his head up to kiss Jack's cheek.

"I am now. I wasn't as careful then." The truth of that statement was churning acid and burning a hole in his stomach.

"What happened to Charlie?"

Knowing he needed to do this, Jack took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I forgot to lock up my gun and Charlie found it. He was playing with it and it went off, and..." He was shocked to find that even after four years that was still as far as he could go.

Daniel reached up to wipe a stray tear off of Jack's cheek. "And Charlie died," Daniel finished quietly. "Charlie wasn't supposed to play with the gun, was he?"

"No, but he was only ten. I'm his dad, I'm the one who was supposed to keep him safe."

"Maybe you both weren't careful enough," Daniel observed, his hand warm on Jack's neck. "My mom and dad weren't careful and they died too."

"I'm sure they did the best they could." Jack rested his hand on the back of the blond head. Crap! He was so busy worrying about himself and his own emotions he had forgotten this was about Daniel. Sara was right; he had no business taking care of this child; he had too many of his own issues to deal with.

"I'm sure you did the best you could too," Daniel whispered.

“Is it time to go yet?”

Jack opened his mouth and then shut it again, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “No, Daniel,” he said tightly. “It’s only five minutes later than the last time you asked me.”

“Oh.” Daniel considered this for a moment. “Are you sure we can’t go early?”

“For the hundredth time, no,” Jack snapped.

There was a breathless pause, and then a murmured, “Sorry.” Daniel turned on his heel and retreated, walking down the hall with soft, carefully measured steps.

Jack turned the page of his newspaper, settled more comfortably in his recliner, and told himself that he would hold his ground. He had been patient. He had reason on his side. There was no need to feel guilty.

The door to Daniel’s room closed--not a slam, but a barely there click.

“Crap.” Jack sighed, put the paper down, and hauled himself out of the chair, mentally apologizing to Frasier. He had kept his knee elevated for at least twenty minutes, which was half the time she had dictated, but he figured he deserved points for trying.

Reaching for the knob to Daniel’s door, Jack paused, remembering another little boy who had been very particular about his personal space. He drew his hand back and knocked, a series of sharp, confident raps.

“Yes?” Daniel called after a moment.

“Can I come in?”

A pause that managed to sound startled. “It’s your house,” Daniel said.

“It’s your room,” Jack countered, still speaking through the door.

“Oh.” Silence for a several seconds. Jack was considering whether he should knock again or just open the door when it opened for him. Daniel stood there, looking up at him in darting little glances. “You can come in,” he said.

“Thank you.” Jack walked past him and sat down on the bed, stretching one leg out in front of him. “So,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “How’s things?”

Daniel blinked. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Fine.”

Jack waited a moment, and then made a go on gesture. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask how things are for me?”

Another blink. “What? I mean... am I supposed to...?”

“Daniel. Come here.”

Daniel’s brows drew together, puzzled, but he did as Jack asked. When Jack patted the bed again, he hopped up, perching on one edge until Jack draped an arm over his shoulders and drew him close. Daniel remained stiff for a moment, and then sighed and relaxed into Jack’s side, his head dropping against Jack’s shoulder.

“So,” Jack began again. “Here’s how this works. I knock, you invite me in, we sit down, and then we ask each other how we’re doing. Small talk one-oh-one. Get it?”

Daniel gave him a dubious look. “I guess. I’ve never heard that before.”

“Well, now you know.” Jack squeezed the shoulder under his palm, pleased when Daniel didn’t try to squirm away. “So, how’s things?”

“Fine,” Daniel responded. “How are things for you?” He grinned up at Jack, suddenly relieved to know exactly how this game was supposed to be played.

Jack leaned back and made a ‘tsk’ noise. “Well, I’ll tell you, things could be better, Danny. This has not been my best day.”

“Really? Why?”

“I did something stupid.”

“No,” Daniel said. “You?” He smiled, and then winced slightly, suddenly wondering if he could get away with teasing Jack.

Jack grinned. “Yeah, shocking, I know.” One hand made its way to Daniel’s hair, ruffling it idly, and the boy’s nervous smile eased. “Here’s what happened. I made all these plans with you, and Dudley, and his mom, for you to have this sleepover at his house tonight. We called each other, we ironed out the schedule, I told Mrs. Wainwright all about your asthma and what you might need. We did the whole phone number exchange, we agreed on what you boys would eat that wouldn’t mess with your allergies or his. I got everything taken care of. But I forgot something important.”

Daniel was listening closely, his mouth open and his eyes wide. “I didn’t know there was so much,” he said. “I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry for pestering you, Jack.”

“But that’s what I forgot,” Jack replied.

“What?” Daniel frowned at him. Jack smiled and pushed his glasses back up his nose with one finger, making Daniel wrinkle his nose and blink.

“I forgot you’ve never done this before. I forgot that while waiting three hours for Dudley’s mom to finish work and pick him up from after school care might not seem like much to me, it probably feels a lot longer to you. Basically, I forgot the rules.”

“The... rules?”

Jack nodded gravely. He leaned in close, ducking his head to speak quietly in Daniel’s ear. “That’s right. I know you didn’t mean to pester me, but you had to. It’s your first sleepover, and the rules are very clear about this. Having to wait and wait for something this big absolutely requires pestering.”

“Oh.” Daniel gave him a sideways look. “Are you sure you’re not making that up?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Well.” Daniel still looked skeptical, but he relaxed a little more against Jack’s shoulder, smiling slightly. “I’m still sorry. I know your knee hurts.”

“Ah, but that’s where my rules come in.”

The skeptical look was back. “There seems to be an awful lot of rules, Jack.”

“Tell me about it.” Jack shook his head ruefully. “And of course, my rules say when my knee is hurting, I have to yell at someone. I’m just sorry it wound up being you.”

Daniel goggled at him. “That’s okay,” he said quickly. “I mean, you weren’t even really yelling. Just a little bit. And I was pestering you too much. It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Jack replied cheerfully. “It was just the rules. Got both of us. So, not my fault for yelling, and not your fault for pestering, okay?”

“Okay.” Daniel grinned, and then, greatly daring, slid his own arm around Jack’s waist and squeezed for a moment. Afterward, he hopped off the bed and busied himself with his already packed bag, glancing back over his shoulder at Jack after a few minutes, gauging his reaction.

Jack looked... Daniel floundered for a moment, trying to place that expression. It was so unfamiliar. Happy? No... more than that. Proud. Jack looked proud of him. Daniel blinked, offered a quick smile, and went back to his bag. He hadn’t seen that look since his parents died. He had no defenses against it.

The moment was saved from impending sappiness when the phone rang. Daniel froze, suddenly certain it would be Dudley’s mom, calling to cancel. She had come to her senses about having him overnight. He had asthma. He was allergic to just about everything. He was too much work.

Jack picked up the extension in the hall, Daniel trailing after him, overnight bag in hand like a good luck charm.

“Hello?” Pause. “Oh, Mrs. Wainwright... right, Vera, of course. Call me Jack.”

Daniel felt his chest beginning to tighten. He should have known. Should never have gotten his hopes up. Should have learned his lesson after that disastrous birthday party at Corey’s house.

Jack’s hand landed on his shoulder. Daniel edged away. Couldn’t take the contact right now. He needed distance. Detachment. He’d be fine if he just didn’t think about it.

“I see,” Jack said. “Are you sure?”

Daniel opened his mouth, trying to get more air. It was getting harder. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, forcing himself to count. One two three in, one two three out. Slow, easy. Picture a big, wide tunnel, opening to let plenty of air through.

Jack chuckled, his hand still absently feeling around for Daniel and getting nothing but air. Daniel was now sliding down the wall. Jack had laughed. Jack thought it was funny.

“You know, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Jack still sounded like he was laughing. He paused, listening, and then nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “You too, huh? Right.” Another pause. “Sure, I can do that. See you then. Bye.”

Daniel kept counting. One two three... big, wide tunnel...

“Daniel? Daniel!” Thumping footsteps, then silence while his breathing rasped and wheezed in his ears. Then Jack’s hands were on him, lifting his chin, helping him sit up. The slick plastic of the nebulizer pressed against his face, and Jack rubbed his back, speaking to him, encouraging him to breathe.

When the pressure in his chest eased, Daniel pushed the neb away, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. Jack hovered uncertainly for a moment, and then sat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. Daniel wriggled and pushed the arm away.

“Daniel?” Jack frowned and tilted his head, trying to catch Daniel’s eye. “What’s going on?”

“You don’t have to...” Daniel shrugged. He stared straight ahead. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it.”

“Used to the asthma?”

Daniel shook his head. “The sleepover. I understand. Thanks for trying.”

Jack’s frown deepened. He felt like he’d been reading a book and suddenly found a chunk of pages missing, the plot skipping ahead without warning. “What about the sleepover?”

Jack was going to make him say it. Daniel gritted his teeth. He could do this. If he could walk out of Corey’s birthday party without crying once, he could handle this. “I know Mrs. Wainwright called to cancel. It’s okay. I understand. I know it’s hard to take care of me. I don’t blame her for changing her mind.”

Jack stared at him. Sometimes this kid could say things that caught him like a kick in the gut. “Daniel. Danny... no. Listen, she didn’t cancel. She wanted to know if we can come early.”

Daniel let the words bounce around in head for a moment, hoping they would make more sense. Not canceling. Wanted him there. Wanted him there... early. Early? Not only could he go, but he could go early?

“What?”

Jack tried the arm around the shoulders again, and this time, it was accepted numbly. “Dudley was so excited, and was asking her so much, that she called to see if we could come early.” He stroked a hand up and down Daniel’s arm, squeezing every so often. After a long pause, Daniel finally looked up at him.

“Jack... if you’re teasing me...”

“I’m not,” Jack said quickly. “Swear I’m not. She really wants you to come. How about it, buddy? You feel up to it?”

“Do I... yeah! I’m... I can... I’ll just get my bag, and, and... you took the neb out of it, let’s put that back in, and the, the... we have everything else, right? Right, Jack?”

Jack blinked at him, and was suddenly unable to resist sweeping him close, pulling him into an awkward hug right there on the hall floor. Daniel tolerated it with good grace, remaining still and pliant for several seconds before squirming away.

“We have to go, Jack! She said early, and after the meds and everything, it’s almost when I was supposed to go in the first place.”

Jack was still sitting on the floor trying to unravel that sentence when Daniel appeared in front of him, bag in hand. He knelt up and put his ear to Daniel’s chest, but heard nothing troublesome. When he looked up, Daniel was staring at him seriously. “I’m okay, Jack,” he said. “Please don’t keep me home just because of that little attack.”

Jack had been considering just that, but one look at that hopeful, anxious face told him otherwise. Daniel’s lungs sounded fine, he was taking his meds with him and Vera knew how to use them, and in a pinch, he could be there in about five minutes. This was important to Daniel--his attack had just underlined how important. There was no way Jack could take this away from him just so he wouldn’t have to worry.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked, grinning. “It’s time to go.”

“Yeah!” Daniel whooped and ran down the hall, heavy thudding steps so unlike the walking-on-eggshells way he’d retreated to his room earlier. Jack followed, still grinning.

“This is great,” Daniel said, leaning forward, his eyes darting back and forth as he read. “Jack doesn’t have a cable modem.”

“No!” Dudley gasped. “How does he send email?”

“He uses dial-up.”

Dudley sat back and ate another slice of pizza, clearly staggered by this news of Jack’s backwardness. “Does he at least have a good computer?”

“Yeah, but it has...” Daniel’s voice lowered to tones of deep horror, “...Windows 95.”

Dudley put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and shook his head sadly. “That’s rough, Daniel. You can come over and use my computer anytime.”

Daniel grinned. “Thanks. And I love how you circumvented the parental controls. The computers at school won’t let me access any of this stuff.”

Visibly brightening, Dudley made a sound of derision and waved one hand. “Oh, those controls are so easy. Anyone who had any kind of skill with binary could bypass them in two minutes flat.”

“You’re so good at computers,” Daniel said, grinning over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have been able to find all these sites if you didn’t know that keyword stuff.”

“It’s an exercise in probability, when you get right down to it. Which keywords are more likely to generate false results, and what combination of search factors will lead you to the most viable sites.”

Daniel nodded, still happily clicking through the various pages.

“Boys?” Dudley’s mother stuck her head in through the door. She was a tall, thin woman with frizzy blond hair and a face that would be pretty with enough makeup and sleep, both of which were in short supply. When Daniel had arrived at the house, bouncing out of Jack’s truck before he’d even turned the engine off, she had still been wearing the candy pink waitress uniform that she worked in. Now, she wore baggy, faded jeans and an old, comfortable, oversized green tee shirt emblazoned with the logo of some long ago track team.

Dudley didn’t look up. He raised another slice of pizza to his mouth and spoke around a large bite. “We’re fine, Mom.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full,” she said automatically. “Daniel, sweetie, are you feeling alright?”

Daniel pasted a wide smile across his face. “I’m fine, Mrs. Wainwright, thank you. Please don’t worry.”

“I just like to make sure. Your...” She paused, smiled weakly and waved one hand. “Your, ah... guardian, Jack, he was very concerned about your asthma. I promised him I’d keep an eye on it. You. I mean you.”

Dudley rolled his eyes. “Mommmmm... he’s fine.”

Daniel’s over-bright smile got a little wider. He elbowed Dudley in his well padded ribs. “Thanks for asking. I’m sure Jack will appreciate that. It’s good he can trust you to be so vigilant, and I’m sure he’ll worry less next time I’m here.” He shot Dudley a pointed look.

“Oh, I heard you were clever,” Vera Wainwright said dazedly. “You certainly have a quick way with words, don’t you?”

Daniel smiled politely and said nothing.

“So, what are you boys up to?”

“Research,” Dudley said. He picked up another slice of pizza.

“Do you really need so much pizza, dear? Leave some for Daniel.”

Dudley flushed and took a retaliatory bite, glaring. Daniel hunched his shoulders slightly. “Please don’t worry,” he said again. “I had plenty, thank you. It was very considerate of you to make us pizza.”

“Well, aren’t you the gentleman.” She gave her son a look. He scowled and kept eating. Vera sighed and leaned closer, reading over their shoulders. “What is that? Druid myths? Are you doing homework?”

Daniel’s forced smile broadened, became more natural. “No, no, it’s quite fascinating,” he began. “You see, Dudley was talking about the astronomical and mathematic properties of Stonehenge, so I wanted to show him some of the traditions said to be associated with that particular structure, including some of the theories of how the stones were placed there despite the rock not being native to the area. The technology for moving stones that large and heavy is not known to have existed at the time that Stonehenge was created, so it’s actually something of a mystery how it came to be at all. Then, of course, there is the religious significance attached to it. Many of today’s holidays, like Halloween or Christmas can be traced back to druidic festivals generally associated with the changing of the seasons. Today’s Easter, for example, replaced the festival of Beltane, a celebration of spring. Early texts describe a long line of people bearing lit candles walking up to the circle of stones--” Daniel paused and took a breath, abruptly ducking his head. “Uh... sorry. You probably didn’t want to know all that.”

“No, honey, it’s very interesting. You’re really into that kind of thing, aren’t you?” she asked brightly.

“Yeah.”

After an awkward moment of silence, Dudley gave his mother an impatient look. “Mom,” he said pointedly. “We’re okay.”

Vera blinked, nodded, and stepped back. She lingered in the doorway, watching the boys, who were already poring over the computer screen again. Dudley was eating, his hand moving to his mouth in a mechanical, absent motion. She looked at her son with the same puzzled, slightly sad expression she always gave him. She couldn’t help comparing him to Daniel, who was so bright and verbal and polite. And thin. She wondered what she had done wrong.

“Sorry about that,” Dudley said when his mother finally stopped lingering and shut the door. “She’s always like that.”

“She’s nice,” Daniel said. “You’re lucky.”

Dudley snorted. “Yeah, I’m so lucky. She doesn’t know what to do with me. She thinks I’m going to eat myself to death and it’s all her fault.”

Daniel pushed his chair back from the computer, crossing his arms and looking at his friend. “Is she wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Dudley said. He shrugged, lifted his hand to his mouth, and then paused, staring at the pizza. It was the last slice on the plate. He’d finished it off without even noticing. Sighing, he put the food down and pushed it away. “Who knows, Daniel? She means well. She’s trying, but...”

“Yeah.” Daniel looked down at the keyboard, let his fingers run over it lightly, imagining he could feel the letters against his fingertips. “But still, you’re lucky to have someone who cares so much.”

“You’ve got Jack.”

Daniel shrugged. “Sure, for now. But how long is that going to last? Jack’s a good guy, but he’s got his own problems. He doesn’t need all my crap on top of that.”

“Must’ve been hard,” Dudley said. “When your parents died.”

“Yeah,” Daniel replied after a moment. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I don’t remember my dad. He left when I was just a baby.” Dudley reached for the pizza, caught himself, and pulled his hand back.

“Maybe that’s better,” Daniel mused. “To not remember. Nobody to miss.”

“Sometimes I wish he’d taken me with him.” Dudley got up and crossed the room, flopping down on his bed. His sheets were covered with little space shuttles, his walls a deep blue strewn with gold and silver star stickers.

“Why?”

“Maybe he would understand me better. My mom doesn’t care about any of the math or astronomy or anything I’m into.”

Daniel shook his head. “Give her some credit, Dudley. I mean, look at what she does for you. She’s trying to support herself and you on waitress’ paycheck, which probably isn’t very much. She takes the bus to work because her car is usually broken, she wears clothes that are years old--and you have a brand new computer in your room.”

Silence from Dudley for a long moment. “I guess,” he said finally. “But I wish she wouldn’t nag me about eating so much.”

“She’s just worried about you. Be glad someone cares enough to nag.”

“Yeah, sort of like Jack bugging you about your asthma.”

Daniel blinked, and then nodded slowly. His annoyance with Jack for making Mrs. Wainwright check up on him drained away. “Yeah,” he said. “Like that.”

“So you really think he’s not going to keep you?” Dudley asked.

“I don’t know,” Daniel sighed. “I don’t... it’s better not to think about it.”

Dudley lifted his head slightly, and then turned, propping his cheek up on one hand, his elbow digging a deep crater in the bedspread. “Why?”

“It’s like...” Daniel lifted his hands, spread them wide, and then pointed as if gathering his words from the air. “It’s like if you think you’re going to get something really good. Like you think you’re going to go on this great trip around the world, and see the pyramids at Giza again, and some of the ancient Mayan temples, and... and let’s say, Stonehenge. You think that’s going to happen. You get all packed, and you’re so exited, you’re in this great mood because this trip will be awesome. And then you suddenly find out that the guy who was going to take you on the trip is too busy to look after a kid. This guy doesn’t want you. He sends you away, and you go live with some other people who don’t want you. They send you away, and you keep moving, and nobody wants you. So after a while, you stop hoping for that trip. Because the disappointment is just too much. It’s better to not think about it.”

Daniel fell silent, suddenly aware that he’d said more than he meant to. Dudley was quiet as well, lying on his back now, hands laced behind his head. “Well, I’m going to hope for it,” he said after a long pause. “I hope you stay.”

“Okay,” Daniel said. “You go ahead and hope for it. But I won’t. No matter what happens, I’ll be fine.”

“Sure you will,” Dudley said. Then he asked Daniel to tell him about the Mayans and their stellar calendar again, and Daniel turned back to the computer to get some more meat for his lecture.

Dudley got up and sat beside him, and directed him to the best words for a highly efficient Boolean search. Daniel keyed them in, and got involved with the search, the old, reliable myths and legends and stories that never changed. And in the back of his mind, he thought about Dudley, hoping for both of them so Daniel wouldn’t have to risk himself, and was somehow comforted.

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