Title: Cars: Motor Running - parts 1& 2

Author: Devra

Feedback: paravati@optonline.net

Rating: PG-13 language, Implied sexual activity

Pairings: Slash-established relationship J/D

Category: First persons POV, Angst, H/C

Date: October 3, 2002

Status: Complete

Notes: Thanks to MajelB for being who she is. Remember to always drive safely and carefully...lives change in flash of a moment.

Season/Spoilers: When they were still a team

Archive: please ask I share nicely.

Synopsis: The accident may cause Jack and Daniel to lose more than the Mustang.

We walk down the corridors of SGC, my hand on Daniel's elbow to prevent him from literally bouncing off the walls. Daniel is tired and hurting and quiet. Very quiet, too quiet. Neither one of us slept at all last night. The promised sleep was never obtained after last night's dinner of Chinese food. Note to self: must remember that painkillers, muscle relaxants and Chinese food are a lethal combination. The number of hours that Daniel spent introducing himself to the porcelain throne can attest to that. I sigh, that is just going to be another reason that Fraiser is going to have my head. I called her at home before first light, telling her to expect a visit from us today. The fact that Daniel listened as I spoke to the doctor and did not protest, was a true gauge of both his mental and physical state of mind. I could feel her voice tighten with anxiety as I explained to her why.

"Bring him in now. Give me 45 minutes, no make that 30, and I will meet in you in the infirmary," she orders.

"Thirty minutes will make it 0600 hours. Don't you want…"

"Now." I am left holding a receiver that is giving me a dial tone for an answer.

I tighten my hold as I feel him sway during our elevator ride to the infirmary. "Daniel?"

He turns to smile at me, acknowledging that he is in there somewhere. "Tired, Jack. Please, stop asking, I'm fine. I'm walking around, living, breathing…better than…"

"Don't go there, Daniel. Do…Not…Go…There." I am barely containing my anger. Sometime during the night, Daniel had called the hospital, and bless his little head considering patient confidentiality, he was able to obtain information on the guy in the other car.

"He was driving drunk, Daniel. *He* ran the red light. *He* was speeding."

" *I* know that Jack. I really do. "

I can tell by the look in Daniel's eyes, that he does know that, but getting himself to believe that is going to be a different story.

"But I hit him, my car hit his. Me…behind the wheel of a car…I put him in the SICU…twenty years old Jack. He's breathing with the aid of a ventilator."

"You didn't put the drinks in his hand, Daniel. Whoever served him the alcohol holds more responsibility in this matter than you, Daniel."

"Please, stop it, Jack. Stop trying to sweep this under the rug."

I can see by the look on Daniel's face and his body language, that my archeologist has hit his proverbial brick wall. He is past understanding or comprehending the point I am trying to make him see. Daniel's insight into this matter was reduced to tunnel vision after that phone call.

Daniel is going to become mired in guilt over this…over something that truly wasn't his fault. This wasn't caused by him touching an alien artifact disobeying an order, or smart-mouthing the wrong person. Daniel is truly an innocent victim in this, but how am I to make him see that?

Fraiser is standing by the infirmary door, waiting. Anger visible on her expressive face when she makes eye contact with me softening immediately when she sees Daniel.

"I'm fine, Janet." Daniel reiterates for like the thousandth time in less than 24 hours.

"Just let me check you out, okay?"

He offers her a small smile of reassurance as she takes his arm from me leading him into the infirmary and to a gurney for examination.

I follow like the hopelessly, in love, sappy Colonel I have become. Afraid, after yesterday, to let Daniel out of my sight. Thinking that this new development does not bode well for future SG1 missions.

Doc Fraiser takes note of my attachment to Daniel sliding her eyes between the two of us. "Want to tell me what happened?"

So I tell the doctor the story, of course leaving out the part of the confrontation in the ER and my epiphany upon seeing the Mustang. I especially make sure that "Napoleon" Fraiser is well aware that the hospital wanted to keep Daniel in for observation, but he refused. Bad move, she turns accusatory eyes in my general direction and proceeds to blame *me* for not bringing Daniel to her last night. I'm standing there silently begging for Daniel's assistance in this matter, but he is just letting me dig my own grave. Then she finishes with the coupe de grase …Hammond wants to see me.

"Now…It's only," I glance at the clock on the wall "0610…what is he doing here?"

I swear, Janet saves that wicked smile only for me…no one else sees it. "I called him," she purrs.

I scrutinize her through narrowed eyes. How the hell did she get showered, dressed *and* manage to call Hammond…and be ready and waiting for us in a matter…Shaking my head, I am convinced that underneath that pristine uniform and blindingly white lab coat she is really wearing a Wonderwoman costume.

She continued "You go up to talk to the General, and I will examine Daniel."

"Daniel?"

His shoulders slumped his head hanging, he answers with a resigned "I'm fine, Jack."

I wonder how many more times Daniel will have to say that before he convinces himself. I exit the infirmary, leaving Daniel in the capable hands of our CMO.

I silently thank Janet for sending Jack on his way. His hovering was only adding to how I felt. How do I feel, I ask myself? Anything but fine. Tired, sore, stiff, nauseous, overwhelmed, responsible, alone. I feel very alone…even with Jack occupying my personal space, I can't shake that feeling. Jack cannot understand my feeling of responsibility in this and he believes given time and a good night's (day's?) sleep, I will see his point of view. The problem is, I do see his point of view…logically he is 100 percent right. Morally, in my eyes, he is a 100 percent wrong. I drove that car, I made the choice to drive that street, that time of day, that speed…the old Jackson saying of "being in the wrong place at the wrong time." Except this time, I took someone down with me.

"Daniel?"

I look up into Janet's concerned eyes.

"I need to examine you." She hands me a set of scrubs, bless Janet for never expecting us to wear those "open in the back" hospital gowns. "Can you put these on?"

I nod yes and make a halfhearted attempt to raise my arms. I can't… they refuse to respond and I drop them back to my lap releasing an expulsion of breath in frustration. I hate the sympathetic eyes she gives to me as she assists me out of the sweatshirt I am wearing.

"Oh Daniel," she cries softly her control lost for a moment. I know how bad it looks, I know how bad I look. I saw in the early morning hours after I called the hospital…I locked myself away in the bathroom and saw the angry marks visible on my body. My penance.

Janet clears her throat and slowly assists me in maneuvering the scrub top on. She draws the curtain around the bed, pushing my body gently into a prone position. Janet removes my sweatpants and throws them over the chair by the side of the bed.

"Daniel!"

I laugh to myself, it is amazing how Janet and Jack can say my name and in that one word convey a bevy of emotions. Right now Janet is angry over the condition of my right knee. She touches it, prodding it…I'm biting my lower lip to keep from crying out. I try to wiggle from her grasp.

"Not good Daniel."

"Ow…alright Janet, you made your point. Can you please stop now?" I beg. I am not above pleading. "Okay, I'm sorry, I didn't stay in the hospital, I'm sorry, I didn't call, I'm sorry, I waited until today…" I'm losing my control. I stop and take a deep breath. "Sorry."

She helps me slip on the scrubs, she is as familiar with my body as Jack is, and that is the reason I chose to come to Janet, rather than stay in the hospital. She lifts the head of the bed up, sitting on the edge and begins to question me.

The usual. Again the familiarity making this easier. I tell her the story of what happened…feeling again the annoyance when Jack spoke for me earlier.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, Daniel…where are you falling."

"A 5."

"I don't think so Daniel."

Okay now this familiarity thing with Janet is working against me.

"Do you remember the pills the doctor from the hospital gave you?"

"In the pocket of the sweatpants, I have the prescription bottles."

"Bottles?" She retrieves the bottles, reads the dosage labels. "Got sick on these Daniel?"

I'm not sure if the medication or the green tinge under the bruises on my face is the giveaway. Instead of vocalization, I offer her a smile in response. She responds by rattling off the lists of tests that she is going to subject me to.

What seems like hours later, I have done a complete 360 and am sitting on the infirmary bed right back where I started, Janet at my side examining my results.

"Okay Daniel, the only thing I'm not really happy with at the moment is that right knee of yours. The rest is just a matter of time."

Janet starts to talk about ligament damage and a regimen of physical therapy. I'm trying to stay awake…but the shot she gave me a few minutes before is pulling me under. I need to ask her one more thing. I call her name "Janet…please," I pause to collect my thoughts, "the boy I hit, ummm Remsen..he's in SICU…could you…please."

I can feel her gently rub my arm, her hand warm against my goose-bumped skin. "I'll call and find out how he is doing. Sleep Daniel, we'll discuss it when you wake."

I feel the weight of the blanket being placed around my shoulders. I turn on my side, letting sleep overtake me…glad for the familiarity of this friendship.

My imagination of the talking to Hammond was going to give to me regarding Daniel could not do justice to the actual dressing down our illustrious leader gave to me. We started with confidentiality…to liability…to governmental protocols …touched on the NID…my responsibility as team leader….as 2IC to SGC…back to confidentiality. The General leans back in his chair, tenting his fingers. "Jack, how is Dr. Jackson."

"Physically at the moment, sir, he is hurting. Stiff, sore." Daniel is my lover, but I am also his team leader and the man sitting in front of me commands my honesty. "Mentally, I'm not sure. The kid he hit was 20 years old and drunk. There was a complication during his surgery and he is now in the SICU breathing with the aid of the ventilator. Daniel, being Daniel blames himself."

"I will make Dr. Jackson aware that the SGC will take care of this for him."

The General will have his work cut out for him. Daniel certainly does not want *anyone* but himself to take care of this. I will not burst the General's bubble. I will let him convince the stubborn archeologist to let others help him. I am dismissed and head down to the infirmary.

I locate Daniel, glad to see that he is sleeping. Resting comfortable. I adjust the blanket and he moves into my touch. Never opening his eyes he says my name. A small smile lights his face and I have to restrain myself from leaving over and kissing his bruised cheek. I settle for gently squeezing his shoulder, mentally kicking myself as a grimace of discomfort appears on his sleeping face. "Sorry, " I whisper. Shaking my head in wonderment as he mumbles "'k, Jack. I'm fine."

I find Janet in her office on the phone. She motions me to a chair, I sit patiently waiting for her to finish her conversation. Fraiser hangs up the phone, leans back in the chair, facing me with troubled eyes.

"I just got off the phone with the doctor that treated Daniel last evening. He concurred with my findings."

"Which are?" I ask anxiously. With Janet, who is aware of our relationship, I can let my true concern show through.

"The bruises on his body, will heal in time." She shakes her head. "Daniel's right knee is in bad shape. He's gonna be sidelined for a while Colonel."

"He's not gonna be happy."

"No he's not…and he certainly is not going to be happy about the condition of the Remsen boy."

"Doc, he is not a *boy* , he is a young man. An obviously irresponsible, young…"

"I know…but he is still in a coma, using the ventilator."

"Shit."

As horrible as this sounds, my only concern is for the man in bed in the other room. I cannot think beyond how this will affect Daniel. He is the one I worry for.

"Colonel, Daniel is going to be sleeping for quite a while. I think you should do the same. Then believe it or not I am sending him home…your home, his home, I don't care. I am going to put him on a regimen of medications for about four days, and I would prefer that he not be alone. Then he can come back to light duty and intensive physical therapy for that knee."

Fraiser must have seen the look that was dawning on my face as she issued me this warning. "No strenuous activity. No pressure on that knee. He is to be involved in nothing that would even make him break a sweat….am I making myself clear here, Colonel.

"Yes, ma'm." I resist the urge to salute her."

I stand in the cold, wetness of the Colorado afternoon looking at the Mustang. The insurance adjuster was here, looked her over, made a couple of notes and left. Left me and the car standing here contemplating each other. I run my hand over the ruin of her hood, though she nearly took another's life, she protected mine. It's an inanimate object, yet I feel the sting of tears burn my eyes. I'm not too sure what she represented to me, only that I am truly bereft as I look upon the ruined metal that she has become.

I jump as Jack puts a jacket around my shoulders. "Come on in Daniel. It's time for your daily dose of pills."

I accept the jacket, but not the proffered assistance into the house. Jack's reaction to the accident and to me is suffocating. "Here's you pills Daniel."

I take them without question, get up and leave the room. Even though he hasn't said a word, I can feel Jack's eyes boring into me. I have been at Jack's for two days and I need my space. Jack has, everyone has a tendency to forget that I lived the majority of my life alone. Having a family, or someone who cares about me is a new experience. I am used to my independence and find someone doting and hovering over me quite disconcerting. It hasn't helped that we have been arguing since I arrived regarding my responsibility in this accident. Jack has spent the better part of two days hovering or arguing with me or arguing while he is hovering.

Even before the pills take effect, I go to the bedroom to lie down. Sleep is a good way to escape, and I have been doing enough sleeping and escaping in the past 48 hours to last a lifetime.

Jack comes in and sits on the bed. I feel so guilty over everything. The car, the accident, Jack…he was worried, is worried. I know if the situation were reversed I would feel as he does. But I can't acknowledge him, years of being on my own, depending only on myself…old habits die hard and I need to work this out on my own. Doing what I believe is right. So I lie on my side, harboring my feelings within, falling asleep as Jack gently rubs my back.

On to Part 2.