Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ahh, if I were you, I wouldn’t mention that in front of Daniel.” I give O’Neill a quizzical look. “Trust me, unless you want a very protracted lecture on your chauvinistic attitude toward women. I’m just saying.”

Shrugging, I look over at the rescued hostages. “He don’t look like he’s up to much.”

“Well, that’s when he’s the most dangerous.”

I wonder what it is about him to bring Jack O’Neill charging down here to team up with a guy he can’t stand. I don’t know who Daniel Jackson is but when I look at him, I recognize the look, the blank eyes, and the just-beginning shakes that say that shock is not far away. The wound’s not that bad, but it’s clear someone beat the shit out of the guy. And torture is a given.

O’Neill walks over to sling his arm around Jackson’s shoulders, a touch that isn’t rebuffed. In fact, it looks like the guy needs it, actually leans into Jack. When you’ve been beaten and tortured, any touch can give you the willies. It looks like Jackson is able to separate the good touches from the bad in his mind already. Some people never do; I’ve seen guys shatter after being treated like I figure this guy’s been treated the past couple of days.

He lets Jack lower him to a seat and suddenly smiles at something Jack said to him. I don’t know what kind of a gig O’Neill’s got these days, but I know there were an awful lot of strings being pulled for this guy’s rescue.

My sources told me that the President himself called the director to get the CIA’s help. And why we were being asked to rescue a couple of archaeologists was crazy enough. And that box that kept the bad guys alive? I don’t even want to know what these guys are involved in; I figure it’s much safer for me not to know.

“The chopper will be here in about half an hour, pilot said. They’re gonna try to land as close as they can.” I pop a bubble as I give the guy a cursory look. “He don’t look like he can walk very far.”

“I’m fine.”

Jack snorts. “How many times have I heard that one? You’re hurt, Daniel, you’ve been shot and God knows what else.” I saw the look on Jack’s face when he saw the car battery. If those guys hadn’t already been dead, he’d have killed them again. Slowly. Repeatedly. I probably would have helped him.

I never knew Jack as a commander; when we were posted together, we were just a couple of working stiffs. I take a load off, lean back against a tree, making sure I keep my weapon in my hand and watch. Jack is kneeling in front of Jackson, doing basic first aid on his leg, keeping up a low murmur of conversation.

I remember when we came upon them in the brush; Jack was running like a crazed deer. The bad guy had a machete and this guy had a god dammed rock in his hand. Don’t know what the hell he thought he was gonna do with it, but he was obviously going down swinging. Kid’s got a helluva nerve, I have to admit.

I hear Jack’s colorful oaths as he shoves his shirt up and gets a look at the damage. Even I have to wince at the burns and bruises on him. “Burke, can you get me some water?”

“Sure thing, boss. How you doing, kid?” Jackson turns glazed eyes toward me like he just realized there was someone else here. I investigate the gutted chopper and find several canteens, hey these guys ain’t gonna be needing them anytime soon. Although, come to think of it, they might come in handy where these guys were headed. Picking up some semi-clean rags, a pan and a shirt that might fit him, I squat on his other side.

“Bill?”

“He’s okay, Daniel. Resting in the shade.” Jack waves an impatient hand toward the other archaeologist.

“Sam? Teal’c?”

“Don’t know yet. Uh, this might hurt a little.”

Jackson grimaces but doesn’t make a sound when Jack cuts his shirt off and peels it slowly away from his body. “Agent Burke?”

“Yeah, kid?” Jack looks at me and mouths something about keeping him talking.

“Thanks. Thanks for coming after us.”

“Hey, O’Neill owes me big.” Jack snorts as he gently wipes the dirt and blood away from that battered face. “Who left who with that bar bill?”

“Here we go again! Can’t ever forget anything, can you?”

“I just wish I could have forgotten. I tell you, kid, O’Neill is not a nice drunk. You know what I mean?”

“I don’t usually last that long,” Jackson answers with complete honesty.

“Can’t hold your liquor, huh?”

“Can’t hold Jack’s liquor.” He quips unexpectedly.

“Anywho, Jack shins out with both girls and leaves me with the bar tab. What kind of a friend does that make him, I ask you?”

“A smart one. You couldn’t handle the tequila or the women.”

“And you could, I suppose?”

Jack smirks. “I handled them just fine. And General…oh, shit!”

“Jack?”

“I’m okay, Daniel, I just realized I need to make a phone call. Have to let the general know his boy is safe and reasonably sound. I’ll be right back. You gonna be okay for a couple of minutes?”

“I’m fine, Jack.” I don’t even know him and I don’t believe it.

“So, Daniel, may I call you Daniel?” He shrugs. “You must have friends in pretty high places.”

“Huh?” I hope that chopper’s splitting the wind right about now ‘cause he’s definitely going into shock.

“I heard the President himself called the director on this one.”

“The President likes Daniel.” Jack holds up two fingers to let me know the chopper is two minutes out. “Everyone likes Daniel.”

“Really?” Even shocky and wounded, there is a world of disbelief in that husky voice.

“Come on, Daniel, even the…weird people like you.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time we meet the weird people.”

We both look up to the sound of the chopper. “Thank God,” Jack whispers. “Hey, Daniel, how about we head home?”

“How about?”

*

The chopper is an Army transport and the guys jump out and swarm all over Daniel, loading him on a gurney and stowing him for transport with precision and efficiency. Jack makes sure he’s as close to Daniel as the on board medic will let him, frowning when he is asked to move back and give her some room.

I myself give her the once over, she looks like the typical American young woman, long dark ponytail and big green eyes and a nice form in her Army greens. Jack smacks my arm when he catches my eye, I just shrug and grin at him. I mean, what’s he gonna do? Throw me off the chopper for taking a look?

We are handed headsets and Jack has a vague sounding conversation with the pilot, of which I am not included. Doesn’t matter to me, I get the feeling that my security clearance runs nowhere near his.

“Colonel, I’ve got you patched in with Cheyenne.”

I listen unashamedly to Jack’s side of the conversation. “General? Yes, sir, we’re on our transport, heading for the airport. Yes, I think he’ll do, sir. Took a bullet in the leg and he’s been beaten, sir, but he’s gonna be okay. Dr. Lee is fine, sir. Yeah, well, tell the President I owe him one. Anything he wants. Depends on what the medic thinks, but I’m pretty sure Daniel’s gonna insist he can hang on till we make it to the base.”

I look back over at Daniel. They’ve got him cleaned up some but that only means you can see the bruises and stuff even better. His eyes are closed although he is still answering the questions the medic is quietly asking. I personally don’t know why he’s hanging on; I would have let them shoot me full of the good shit and passed out as soon as we got on board.

Jack obviously agrees, he leans over Daniel and tries to talk him into letting go. The conversation is low and unintelligible but I do hear Daniel refer vehemently to the box which we brought with us, much to my dismay.

I don’t know what that thing is and I think that’s a very good thing. I don’t know if Jack or the drugs finally wins, but Daniel’s eyelids shudder a couple of times but finally he loses the fight and passes out.

The medic bullies Jack out of her way and gets an IV started. Jack moves over to sit beside me, but where he can still see Daniel.

“He’ll do, Jack. Seems like a pretty tough nut, for a regular guy.”

“He’s not exactly a regular guy.” Jack sighs as he lets exhaustion and stress take over, slumping in his seat.

“Kinda got that impression. Hey, it’s true the President went to bat for him?”

“Officially, our government does not bargain with terrorists.”

Yeah, I know the company line, but there are plenty of ways to wiggle around that. “So, we did good today, didn’t we?”

He raises weary eyes to mine. “Yes, Burke, we did good today. Thank you for your help, I couldn’t have gotten Daniel out without you.”

I squirm at the sincerity in his voice. “Right back at ya, Jack. So, he’s what? A friend? Co-worker? Your responsibility?”

“All of the above. He does translating for the Air Force and I tag along after him and keep the bad guys from shooting the shit out of him.”

“He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy folks go around shooting.”

“You’re not seeing him at his best. If he were awake, he’d be telling you how the terrorists are desecrating the sacred ruins of this country and how blasphemous the whole war thing is. And when he got his second wind, he’d start on the futility of the military regime and, well, it usually goes downhill from there. You’re lucky he’s too whacked out for the lecture.” His expression says he’s gotten that lecture more than once.

Then his eyes settle on Daniel’s sleeping face and that expression softens. I realize this is more than just a friend; this is a good friend, a close friend. One you worry about when he gets hurt. Been awhile for me, but I remember the feeling. “I meant what I said, Burke. I’ll do what I can to get you posted somewhere else.”

“I know you meant it, Jack. Thanks.”

It’s mostly quiet on the ride back to civilization. O’Neill hovers over Daniel as best he can. Daniel is completely out of it, doesn’t even wake up when we land, or when they cart him out of the chopper and transfer him to the ambulance.

I hop down out of the chopper, stand while O’Neill gives the soldiers who suddenly swarmed the field instructions on what to do with that damned box. Something about a lead-lined container, Dr. Lee and a flight to Colorado. He turns to me while they are getting Daniel settled. “Listen, Burke, thanks again for today. I’m glad we straightened things out.” He sticks his hand out.

“No problem, Jack. I’m glad, too. Keep an eye on that kid, will ya? Don’t know why they let civilians wander around the jungles, just asking for trouble.”

Jack laughs sharply. “You’re telling me? I gotta go back and explain to my CO why I let someone put a bullet in him. Lucky I don’t end up posted somewhere worse than this. I’ll be seeing you, Burke.” He runs to crawl in the back of the ambulance.

I watch them go, until someone touches my arm. “Agent Burke, I’m Major Jamison of the United States Air Force. If you’d come with me, I need to debrief you about today’s operation.”

Ain’t that the way it goes? “Can I at least get a shower and a beer before we start?” Yeah, I know the beer’s probably pushing it, but, hey, a guy can try, can’t he?