Breaking the Curse

Chapter One: Beginning at the End


You think you have won, but you have not.  I will never surrender to you.

Daniel looked down at the woman in his arms. She was cold now. He had been holding her since he heard those words and knew what they meant. Sadly, he brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. He knew it was over before he reached her, but he had gone to her anyway, held her long after she was gone. He had lost her, lost her forever. He had known that it was possible that it would end this way, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it. He had failed. He had wanted so badly to save her, save her as he had failed to save Sha’re, but he had failed. She wouldn’t suffer anymore. That was over. But she wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to be captured, not killed.


Only Osiris had been unwilling to let that capture happen. He had killed himself and Sarah to prevent it.

“Sarah,” Daniel whispered, though she was no longer there to hear him. He had recovered enough from the hand device Osiris had used on him to reach Jack and Teal’c after Jack had shot Osiris, to hear Osiris speak, and to know that Osiris intended to kill Sarah. He had pushed past Jack and Teal’c and reached Sarah in time to hear her whisper Daniel, I am so sorry. It was only now that he had been able to speak.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Jack. It had to be. Daniel looked up at him. “Let’s go, Danny. She’s gone.” Daniel didn’t need Jack to tell him that. He nodded. He felt tears in his eyes and forced them back. He didn’t want to cry, not here, not in front of Jack. He got to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets to conceal how badly they were shaking. He had to act as if he was fine, just for now, just until Jack left and he was alone.

“You okay, Daniel?” Jack asked. He looked concerned, or at least what passed for concern for Jack.

“I’m fine, Jack,” Daniel answered immediately, his eyes down on Sarah’s still form. Jack didn’t say anything. Daniel knew what that meant. He glanced at his friend. At Jack’s look, Daniel rolled his eyes. “Jack. I. Am. Fine.”


“You sure about that, Danny?” Two Dannys in less than five minutes. Jack is worried. He hasn’t called me “Danny” since before I ascended. “She used one of those damn hand devices on you.”

“Really, Jack, I think I’m developing an immunity to those things,” Daniel told him and was rewarded with another one of Jack O’Neill’s patented looks of disbelief. “Where’s Sam?”

Asking about Sam was an almost surefire way to distract Jack. Stiffly, clearly uncomfortable, Jack answered, “She went with Pete. Seems it was a bad hit. They…uh…weren’t sure if he would make it.”

Sarah was cold. Pete’s ambulance was long gone, though another waited for Sarah, to take the dead with them to be hidden down at the SGC until she would be released to her family for her funeral. The van the rest of SG-1 had been using for surveillance had already been towed away. The street looked almost normal again, just a plain, suburban neighborhood, with gentle, normal people watching the drama at their newest neighbor’s house. They’d been fed a story and told to go inside, but they were still watching at their windows. Daniel sighed. Up until a few hours ago, this place had been his home.

Now that was gone, too. He knew he couldn’t stay here anymore. When he first looked at the house, he had liked the quiet anonymity of the place. Osiris’ attack had destroyed that. No cover story could ever fully explain this. His neighbors would always look at him differently, treat him differently, watch his house with suspicion. He wouldn’t be able to live like that, knowing his neighbors were watching, waiting for something else “weird” to happen.

“Come on, Daniel,” Jack’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Let’s head back to the mountain. Fraiser’ll want to check you out.”

Daniel nodded. “Let me change clothes, and I’ll come with you.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Jack said, grabbing a hold of Daniel’s arm. He made a show of looking Daniel over, paying close attention to the back of Daniel’s neck. “That Goa’uld didn’t get in you, did it? Your brains get a little scrambled from the hand device?”

“Funny,” Daniel muttered, rolling his eyes again. “I’ll end up in the infirmary one way or another, and I want to check on Sam.” < style="font-family: papyrus;">

“I could have told you I was fine,” Daniel complained after Janet’s assistant finished the numerous tests Janet had assigned her to do. He swore there were more of them every time he was in the infirmary. He spent too much time in this place as it was, and he didn’t appreciate the extra time that these tests were adding to that tally, especially since he was really starting to worry about Sam. Jack’s comment had set off Daniel’s sense of unease, but after Janet rushed out shortly after drawing Daniel’s blood and sent a nurse to finish his work-up, he was getting near panic. Janet was as much a mother hen as Jack and usually made sure that she was the one taking care of Daniel anytime he was sick or injured.

If Janet wasn’t hovering over Daniel, she was with Pete. If she was with Pete, things were not going well. Daniel started to rise from the bed he’d been sitting on, and the nurse restrained him with a hand. “I think Dr. Fraiser would like you to stay for observation, Dr. Jackson.”


“I’m fine,” Daniel insisted. “Where is Major Carter?”

“She’s with Mr. Shanahan in recovery,” the nurse answered with a frown. “But I really think that you should stay here, Dr. Jackson.”

Daniel looked at her, took her hand off his shoulder, and got to his feet. She would have needed Teal’c’s help to restrain him at this point, and Teal’c was just as worried as Daniel was behind that impassive mask of his. Frankly, Daniel was surprised that both Jack and Teal’c had stayed with him instead of going after Sam.

The nurse backed down. She wasn’t ready to take on SG-1, which meant that she would not last long around here. Janet was a great CMO because she didn’t hesitate to stand up to SG-1. Even Jack was terrified of her needles. Daniel smiled at the thought as he walked over to recovery.

Janet was just coming out of the room. All it took was one look at her face to know that things had ended badly. He heard Jack asking what happened, but Daniel didn’t need to know that, not right now. All he knew was that Sam needed him, and that overrode everything else, including common sense and Sam’s right to be alone. It was actually typical of the way his brain worked. A had bypassed Band C was in a completely different alphabet. The Cyrillic alphabet was running through the back of his head, but that didn’t help Sam right now, so he forced it out of his mind and concentrated on his friend.

She hadn’t heard him enter the room. She was standing next to the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, still holding Pete’s lifeless hand the way that Daniel had been holding onto Sarah. He reached out, having crossed the distance to her without either of them noticing, and gently touched her upper arm. “Sam.”

“Daniel,” she said softly and turned into his chest as he wrapped his arm around her. He leaned into Sam, resting his head against her hair. She smelled like flowers, with a hint of smoke underneath. She smelled good. It was a strange thought to have, now of all times. The tests hadn’t caught it, but he knew that he must be in shock over Sarah’s death. He knew what shock was. He had experienced it before; he knew how it felt. Maybe Jack was right, and Daniel’s brain was a little scrambled from the hand device. He definitely had a headache, but he could ignore that. Sam needed him. He needed Sam just as much.

He felt like he should be here. It felt good to be here, to hold her and be held by her. They both needed this. They understood each other, understood each other’s grief. Daniel wasn’t in love with Sarah; Sam wasn’t in love with Pete. But Daniel cared about Sarah; Sam cared about Pete. She blamed herself for Pete’s death the way that Daniel blamed himself for Sarah’s. He knew that Sam shouldn’t blame herself. This wasn’t her fault. He held her and hoped that she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

He heard Jack cough discreetly behind him, so he lifted his head. He had distracted Sam long enough for Jack, Teal’c, and Janet to enter the room. Janet had gone to the bed and covered Pete’s body with a sheet. Sam didn’t look up. She kept her head buried in Daniel’s chest.

“Daniel,” Jack began. He looked behind him at Teal’c, then back at Daniel. “Why don’t you and Carter come back to my house for the night?”

“Actually,” Janet broke in, “I would like both Sam and Daniel to stay on the base for now. They’ve both suffered trauma as well as—”

“You could try not talking about us like we’re not here,” Daniel suggested, annoyed and amused at the same time. He was rewarded with a small smile from Teal’c, Jack pretending he hadn’t noticed, and Janet blushing a little.

“Hey,” Jack said defensively, “I thought I was helping. It’s not like I thought you wanted to stay here. I mean, come on—”

Janet rolled her eyes. “Colonel, I have the authority to keep all of SG-1 on the base. In fact, I can recommend that—”

“No,” Sam mumbled, clutching Daniel’s shirt. He’d just thrown a sweatshirt over the tank he’d been wearing, and he was glad he did. Sam was distraught, shaking her head against him, and she would be rubbing against buttons if he’d actually changed.

Trying to comfort her, Daniel ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. This decision should be hers. She knew what she needed, even if it was buried underneath layers of grief. He had known what he needed after Sha’re’s death—she had known, too, that was why she gave him that message—and he was confident that Sam knew what she needed now. No, she shouldn’t be alone, but she could cope with this if she was allowed to choose. “You want to go with Jack, Sam?”

Despite her earlier outburst, Sam seemed too shocked to speak. She didn’t really seem aware of what was going on around her. Daniel attempted to pull away from her, wanting to look at her, see if she was okay, maybe shake some sense into her if she needed it, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and tightened her grip the more he pulled away. She didn’t look up from his chest. Daniel didn’t like this. Any minute now, Janet would insist on sedating Sam. Daniel was sure that Sam needed sleep, but he wasn’t sure she needed sedation.

But he didn’t know. He wasn’t a doctor, not that kind of doctor. Maybe he should leave this up to Janet. Sam looked up at him at last, her eyes pleading with him like she had heard his thoughts. “Daniel, please, take me home.” < style="font-family: papyrus;">

Daniel wasn’t sure why Sam had chosen to stay with him. He knew how she felt about Jack, so it surprised him that she hadn’t taken Jack up on his offer to stay with him. She put on the brave Major act in front of her CO, but she had come apart in front of Jack enough for that not to matter. Daniel would have thought that she would take Jack up on his offer of comfort since she sought it from him so often and she had never really refused Jack before. If not for the regulations, they would be together and everyone knew it. Maybe she cared more about Pete than Daniel had thought, maybe enough to make Jack fade from her mind. But, then, she had been different, especially towards Jack, after that incident on the Prometheus. Maybe Daniel was reading too much into this. Maybe she just wanted a friend. It was a lover that she had lost. She didn’t need another, not so soon. She needed a friend, someone to share her grief, which Daniel could do.

That was really why he was here. After the fight he had put up to get here, to be the one to take Sam home, he didn’t know why he was bothering to question
why he was here. He had insisted on being here, had badgered Jack and Janet into this by telling them how much Sam needed this, how Sam wasn’t the only one who needed this, and how Sam and he could solve anything together. Except how to save Sarah. They had tried, they had, but they had failed. Daniel had failed. He should have known what Osiris would do when faced with capture.

He sighed. He had to stop thinking about Sarah. Sam. Concentrate on Sam. If he focused on helping Sam, he could get through this. That was why he had wanted to come—well, a part of why he had wanted to come.

He looked at her. She was sitting on her couch, staring ahead at the blank TV screen. He had already left her alone for too long. “Sam?”

She didn’t answer. He went around to the front of the couch and knelt in front of her, putting his hands on hers. She was freezing. He had to do something about this. “Sam, it’s me. Daniel. Listen, we need to get you to bed. Come on.”

She didn’t respond, so he gently wrapped his arms under hers and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t make any move to put weight on her feet and move on her own. Daniel made a face and dragged her into the bedroom. He dropped her sideways on her bed and sighed. She was still fully clothed, combat boots, off-duty BDUs, the same clothes she had on last night when they set the trap for Osiris. She couldn’t sleep like that. He frowned at her. “Uh, Sam, I think you need to change…”

Sam mumbled something incoherent. He had gone on countless missions with Sam, been in so many dangerous, life-threatening situations with her, and now, while she was mostly out of it, he was terrified of her. Well, he was terrified of what she would do when she realized that he had been in her dresser. Sam, please do not kill me for this.

Assuming that Sam, like most people, would store her underwear in her top drawer, he avoided that one. The second drawer wasn’t much better. Tank tops. He closed the drawer and opened the next one. T-shirts. He took out the largest one he could find, blue with some cartoon character he didn’t recognize on it, and set it aside. The fourth drawer was full of jeans, but the fifth one was sweatpants, jogging suits, and pajama pants, including a pink pair with kittens on them. He blushed even redder than he had when he first went to the dresser and hoped that Sam wouldn’t mind that he had seen this.

And if he died, because she was going to kill him, he could at least die with a smile and the thought of Sam in pink pajamas with kittens on them. They must have been a gag gift. Most of Sam’s civilian clothes were…well, sexier than these cutesy pajamas. He grinned and brought the clothes to her. “Sam? I have something for you to change into…Sam?”

She was still dazed. He set the clothes next to her and knelt, taking off her boots, then her socks. She started giggling as he touched the bottom of her feet. After she continued to giggle, far more and longer than was warranted by any ticklishness he might have caused, he shook her gently. “Sam? Sam, please, you need to change, then sleep.”

Sam sat up abruptly, pulled her shirt off, and threw it at him. It landed on his head, and she started laughing again. He sighed, pulling it off and setting it aside on the floor. He hoped she had her new shirt on—oh, no, she didn’t. She sat, laughter shaking her body. He picked up the shirt he’d gotten out of her dresser and held it out to her, hoping she would take it. When she didn’t, he lifted her arms and pulled the shirt over her. She had stopped laughing, and he almost wished she hadn’t. This was awkward as all hell, but at least when she was laughing she wasn’t really paying attention to him. Now she was staring.

Feeling uncomfortable, Daniel assessed the situation. She was half-changed. Just her pants left to do. He really wanted her to finish this so that this wouldn’t be any harder. He shook his friend, but she didn’t respond. Muttering to himself in Ancient, he cursed. He slid his arms under hers again, picking her up. She slumped when he tried to stand her up, so he held her, braced her over his arm, trying to unbutton and unzip her fatigues. This was one of the most awkward things he had ever done. The more he struggled, the more she laughed at him. With a few more curses in other languages, he realized this would have been easier if he had left her on the bed.

“Stand up, Sam. I can’t do this on my own.”

She stopped laughing, stood up and shed her pants before he could do the decent thing and look away. She grabbed the pajama pants and put them on without a word. Daniel shook himself out of his fugue and forced himself to move. He went towards the door.

Pausing in the doorway, he shut off the light. “Good night, Sam. Try and get some sleep.”

“Daniel, wait, please,” Sam said in a small, very un-Major Carter-ish voice that made him stop and look back. “I don’t want to be alone. Stay with me? Just until I fall asleep.”

When he hesitated, she repeated, “Please.”

Daniel nodded, coming towards the bed, careful in the semi-darkness. He took off his glasses and set them on the stand next to the bed as she crawled under the covers on one side of the bed. She snuggled up to her pillow and patted the spot next to her. He smiled briefly and sat down. He leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes. He couldn’t stay in this spot long or he would fall asleep.

He opened his eyes when he noticed the way she was uncomfortably tossing and turning next to him. She stopped when she realized he was watching her. “You’re on the covers.”

She looked at him pointedly. He could see it in the faint light. He smiled slightly and climbed off the bed. Though she had asked him to stay, he was pretty sure that she wouldn’t sleep as long as he was there, and he knew he would fall asleep before much longer, as exhausted as he was. He would be better off on the couch, so he started for the door.

“Daniel, where are you going? I thought you were going to stay?”

The hurt in her voice made him sorry he had even thought of leaving. “Sam, I—You said—I thought—”

She laughed a little at his stumbling tongue and patted the bed next to her again, this time with the covers pulled down. He half-smiled, half-grimaced, though she didn’t notice the grimace, and reluctantly returned to the bed. He sat again, his head hitting the board, trying to convince himself that this was just like sleeping next to her on a mission.

It wasn’t.

“Thank you, Daniel,” she whispered, putting her hand on his chest. Oh, it really wasn’t.

“For what?” he asked with a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand. Sam sat up; leaning over him, then with all of her military training and physical strength, dragged him down onto the pillow. Stunned and a little embarrassed that she had gotten the better of him, he looked at her in surprise. “Sam?”

“You need sleep as much as I do,” she told him sleepily, wrapping her arms his stomach and laying her head on his chest. “So go to sleep, Daniel.”

He’d already lost the battle, both with her and with himself. As a silent thank you, he kissed her forehead just before he found himself drifting off. Tomorrow would be an interesting morning.


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