Oversight
By Travelling One
 
Email: travelling_one@yahoo.ca
WEB:http://www.travellingone.com/
Summary: Daniel and Jack have to come to terms with an offworld event.
Disclaimer: The theme and main characters have been borrowed from the Stargate SG-1 tv series, and are copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. This story has been written for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
02/ 24/03
 
  
He'd been anxiously waiting, but not for something like this.
 
When Daniel had come down with the flu the week of SG-1's diplomatic mission to extricate SG-10 from the Intri-ro on P9T 554 - resolving that ironically screwed up so-called diplomatic attempt by SG-10 to negotiate a mining contract - he had been more than ticked-off at being grounded.
 
"For crying out loud, Daniel," Jack had scolded, "You can barely keep your eyes open. Two seconds into the session you'll cough us right into confinement with SG-10."
 
Daniel couldn't deny that his muscles were still aching throughout his entire body and his head was hard to hold upright. He just, for some reason, had a bad feeling about Jack being the one to get SG-10 out of this. If SG-10, themselves a diplomatic team, had not been able to work things out, well then Jack…
 
"Matthews is going in your place."
 
Oh.
 
Matthews?
 
Daniel bit his lip. Matthews. That might work. Daniel had to give credit to others to be able to replace him on a mission like this one, and had it not been his own team going he might have supported Glen Matthews wholeheartedly. The guy was a good diplomat and anthropologist, calm and intuitive, and had earned a temporary place with SG-6 last month. He'd impressed everyone with his skills in the field even though he was a military scientist and new to Stargate travel, having spent the past two years working solely on base. They could trust him with 'most anyone but the Goa'uld, whom he'd made it clear he had no desire to deal with anyway.
 
Okay, Matthews might be able to do it.
 
So Daniel had been waiting, in bed on base instead of in bed at home, for SG-1 to return, hopefully with a happy SG-10 trailing behind.
 
He hadn't expected something like this.
 
 
The gate had opened and for a moment there'd been no activity at all. Seconds had passed without the softest ripple in the event horizon. Then suddenly, Jack and Teal'c had burst through carrying an injured Matthews on a makeshift stretcher, all tent poles and nylon bindings, and now Matthews was on his way to the OR, fighting for his life.
 
"What happened?" Daniel had gaped at the team - two teams, for SG-10 was behind them - rushing down the ramp. His concerned question was displaced by Frasier's barking orders and the flurry of activity around them. Jack had thrown him a quick glance, a frown, and then had hurried off with the gurney.
 
Carter had caught Daniel's disorientation and had taken his arm. "We'd signed the deal, Daniel, and SG-10 was on their way back to the gate with us. Matthews just turned to Urlep, their associate administrator, and began telling him how we were looking forward to doing business with them, when Sagrenac suddenly rushed up from behind and hit him on the head with some apparatus. Their other people all stood by and did nothing, Daniel, but watch impassively."
 
Damn… "They attacked him for no reason?" Daniel's heart was pumping too quickly.
 
She'd squeezed his arm and hurried off after the retreating medical personnel and two bewildered SG teams.
 
 
Daniel was now left standing in the gateroom after the commotion had died away. All personnel were doing whatever they were meant to be doing, somewhere else on base, and Daniel remained alone, trying to come to terms with the disturbing situation, listening to the ghosts of footsteps retreating to the infirmary, to the OR, to the showers, to the labs.
 
The deathly silence that surrounded him seemed unnatural after the events of just moments ago… or had it been minutes already? The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn, now, and Daniel looked up into the control booth where a single technician remained, going about her business, unaware that they'd taken the wrong man to the operating room.
 
They'd taken Matthews, but Matthews shouldn't have even been on that planet.
 
It should've been him.
 
  
"Jack?"
 
"Not now, Daniel."
 
Not now.
 
Daniel felt the air rush out of him like a popped balloon, an unsuspecting piece of debris shriveling into the air. Pulling himself back into the moment and realizing what was happening around him, Daniel shifted out of the way of the medics.
 
Daniel could see Jack just inside the infirmary door where the activity was hectic, the scans and myriad tests being done; but Daniel, being in the way of various frantically maneuvering bodies, had been pushed away from the door and sent to wait in the corridor. All he wanted to do at the moment was talk to Jack, find out if Matthews would be okay, find out if his CO was okay… but no, Jack would be internalizing guilt for the injury suffered by Matthews, for the attack on his teammate. Jack always took his responsibilities seriously, no exceptions, and Matthews, a new gate traveller, had been putting his faith in the team leader to get them all home safely. This, Jack was acutely aware of.
 
All Daniel had wanted to do was talk to him. He needed to know exactly what had happened. Needed to take the blame and guilt off of himself, and needed this desperately. He knew how aware they all were that it should've been him lying there.
 
But Jack was too concerned to talk right now, and Daniel was just in the way.
 
Daniel set off back to his quarters and his bed.
 
 
It should've been him.
 
The thought kept him awake, in spite of the lethargy and exhaustion still holding him hostage. Daniel turned again in the hard bed, unable to fall asleep. It should've been him.
 
Matthews had been the diplomat, and though he spoke three or four ancient and alien languages, it wasn't his interpretive skills that had been required this time, as the Intri-roans spoke English as well as their own tongue. Daniel realized that while he himself hadn't been urgently needed on this mission, it was still undeniable that Matthews had gone in his place, had done his job, had gone with his team. Matthews had been the one talking to Urlep, and Matthews was the one who'd been attacked.
 
It should've been him.
 
Daniel really needed to talk to Jack… and then he'd have to talk to Matthews, if the man ever woke up.
 
Soon.
 
Right now, he really needed to sleep.
 
 
The tests showed a massive concussion, along with a resulting brain swelling and injury, and a fractured skull. Matthew's chances didn't look good, either for survival or recovery in any decent form. Jack waited in the infirmary for them to bring him back from surgery.
 
Damn. The man had had so few missions, which made it even worse, in Jack's mind. So few missions. He wasn't a regular team member, wasn't a full-time permanent gate traveller. The man preferred research and lab work, for crying out loud; he'd made that clear. He'd been taken through the gate as a specialist, temporary replacement category. No mission was ever guaranteed to be easy or safe, but hell, this wasn't fair. This shouldn't have happened to Matthews; he didn't deserve this. He hadn't done anything wrong. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to have been there.
 
No, the man who was supposed to have been there was Daniel.
 
Jack was aware that Daniel knew now of what had happened, knew Daniel was waiting to talk to him. But he wasn't ready, couldn't talk about this yet, couldn't talk to Daniel.
 
He was CO of this team; what had happened? Had he let down his guard? Assumed the mission was over because the contract had been signed? Hell, this was a culture they barely knew; no way should he have trusted them so easily. They'd held SG-10, for pete's sake, over a misunderstanding. He should never have let his guard down.
 
Yet he wasn't really positive he had.
 
Jack sat down to wait. He'd sit there until Matthews was able to leave the infirmary, one way or another.
 
 
Daniel had awoken with the suddenness of prey realizing it was being watched.
 
Flashes came to him like headlines, and the sick feeling he'd fallen asleep with rushed to overwhelm him. That wasn't just the flu acting upon him.
 
Matthews.
 
Checking the clock, Daniel realized that not only had he finally fallen asleep, he had been deeply that way for over four hours. While his chest continued to ache, his head was clearer, and he felt somewhat more capable of coherent thinking and conversation.
 
He had to go and see how the tests had gone. Had to see if Matthews had made it.
 
 
Jack?
 
Daniel stopped himself from speaking, couldn't deal with another 'Not Now, Daniel'. Just entering the infirmary and making his way to the bed Mathews was occupying, he stepped past the chair in which O'Neill was slouching. Glen looked awful, hooked up to all those bags, all those lines, and his prognosis wasn't good, according to Janet. He had not come out of his coma.
 
Daniel quietly sat himself in a chair on the other side of the bed, without a word. He really didn't know what to say anyway.
 
So they could wait in silence. At least Jack would have company and support.
 
As the time dragged on, nurses came and went, hook-ups were monitored, vitals checked, temperature was taken, and all the while Matthews never moved. Daniel studied the frown on his CO's face, and sometimes almost caught Jack looking at him.
 
It was hard to figure out what Jack was thinking, what mistakes he was pondering. Daniel was content to sit silently; he couldn't have eased his CO's mind when his own was so full of guilt he could barely look Jack in the eyes. Should've been me, he knew, the reminder glaring at him punishingly from Matthews' silent bed.
 
 
Exhaustion eventually overtook him, and Daniel was again forced to retreat to his quarters for some unfulfilled sleep, leaving Jack alone and probably relieved to be freed from having to watch him sitting there.
 
Yet sleep wouldn't come, and finally Daniel dragged his heavy body from the bed and went to claim the files from SG-10's previous mission to Intri-ro. He would see if there was a reference to that man - Sagrenac - and try to determine what, exactly, had gone wrong.
 
 
Jack had left Matthew's bedside only to report to the post-mission briefing and to shower, and then had once again returned. He was relieved to find that Daniel had not come to sit any more; he couldn't face the archaeologist at that moment.
 
He'd gone over and over the incident in his mind, trying to figure out why this had happened. Some clue, some signal, that the deal had not been pleasing to all involved. But his mind kept returning to the same conclusions; even Sagrenac had smiled and taken their hands in agreement. Nothing had seemed wrong after SG-10 had been released. So why did Jack still feel so guilty?
 
Because Matthews hadn't deserved this.
 
Because there was no reason for this, other than a neurotic, paranoid, Dr. Jekyll society he'd sold his team out to.
 
Because Jack hadn't seen it coming, had allowed himself to be caught off guard.
 
Because he'd been responsible for the newcomer, for all of his team.
 
And because it would've been Daniel, hit over the head with an iron implement.
 
Dying in the bed beside him.
 
 
Daniel had pored over the notes throughout the early morning hours, those notes from SG-10's previous mission, and had still found nothing to explain the strange behaviours of Sagrenac and the complacent citizens. No insinuated rituals, no mention of sacrifices to solidify a contract. Now, before perusing the file from yesterday's mission debriefing that had just been dropped onto his desk, he was heading for the commissary, taking a break. Exhaustion had been struggling to control him once more, the flu still not entirely conquered.
 
Entering the food hall, Daniel now wondered why he had come. The sounds of cheerful conversation, the bright lights, the smells of food he really had no appetite for, combined to promise a bad experience should he overstay his welcome; one which, as far as he was concerned, had already run its course.
 
Until he noticed Jack sitting there, alone at a far table, with a couple of coffee cups. Hesitating for only one more moment, Daniel made his way over.
 
Jack glanced up at the approach, then turned away.
 
Not now, Daniel. The words hadn't been said, but Daniel could hear them in his head, which was, after all, the most relevant place in the world.
 
"Mind if I sit here?" Daniel asked quietly, the warning voices in his head losing out to the sight of his friend so dejected and alone. His need to exonerate himself overwhelmed even his instinct for self-preservation, and he was willing to take whatever sarcasm or harshness Jack was going to hand out.
 
"No." Jack didn't look up from his half-empty mug.
 
Daniel sat, watching Jack in silence for a few moments.
 
"How's Glen doing?"
 
"He died half an hour ago." Jack still hadn't looked at his teammate.
 
Daniel stared in shock. Matthews had died? Oh god.
 
"God …I'm sorry," Daniel finally managed to whisper.
 
"So am I," Jack whispered back.
 
The two men sat, the silence between them uncomfortable, for a long while. Finally, Daniel spoke. "Maybe I should go."
 
"You don't have to."
 
Daniel paused. "Jack… I'm sorry. I feel awful about this."
 
Jack just nodded, still gazing into one of the empty cups.
 
"You couldn't have done anything differently, you know that. You've been watching over Matthews since you came back, … you're a damn good leader, Jack. Not every commanding officer would have been at the bedside all night of someone he'd just worked with for a couple of days. You have nothing to feel guilty for." Daniel paused, studying the older teammate who still hadn't once met his eyes. "And I'm sorry it had to be him, Jack, when we both know it should've been me."
 
At this, Jack looked up sharply. "No, it shouldn't have been you, but it would've been you. It shouldn't have been anyone, Daniel. And I have every damn right to feel guilty. For what looked to you like a good team leader back there, was a damn flipping hypocrite."
 
"What are you talking about?"
 
"You want to know what I'm talking about Daniel?" Jack glared at him. "What I'm talking about is guilt. And I'm talking about you. Yes I should feel guilty, Daniel, because every minute I spent with Matthews in the infirmary, watching him die, all I could think of was you… how it would've been you lying there dying. That's why I stayed with him every minute, Daniel. Because I knew if it had been you, I'd've been there every minute, so why for you and not for him? And every minute I looked at him lying there, I was glad it was Matthews, Daniel, and not you. That's what I was seeing when I was sitting there for the past eighteen hours. How's that for unselfish, compassionate leadership qualities?"
 
Daniel stared at his CO, stunned, not knowing what to say. Jack didn't blame him for not having been with them on Intri-ro; he was angry at himself for being glad of it. Yes, talk about a guilt trip. And poor Glen Matthews, who'd died for him.
 
"I'm not glad it was Matthews, Jack." Daniel finally found his voice, barely.
 
"Well I am," Jack whispered, kicking his chair back and heading quickly out the exit, leaving Daniel alone at the table.
 
 
Daniel sat at his desk, again catching his mind wandering, bringing it back to the task at hand. He had to make some progress in understanding this culture, he … had to. For himself, for Jack, for Matthews, for his team morale, for the SGC. He had to contribute something to this screwed up mission, and his relentless determination kept him working in spite of his continued exhaustion.
 
The sparse files spread out all around him, he brought his thoughts back once more from Glen Matthews. Closing his eyes, he offered up a silent prayer for the man, for his family, along with a heartfelt apology.
 
He ended with a prayer for Jack.
 
 
Yes Daniel, I do have reason to feel guilty. I'm sitting in there, knowing that would've been you, relieved that it wasn't. Every time I see you, it reminds me how relieved I am that you're still here with us, talking to me, and it makes me feel worse that I feel that way. But I can't help that, Daniel. I'm upset Matthews died, but I'm glad it wasn't you.
 
Jack had gone straight to his office, now sitting there with his head in his hands. He wasn't going to keep this up, this guilt trip. He had admitted it out loud this time, and it was the truth. If someone had to die, he was damn glad it hadn't been Daniel. Seeing Daniel sitting there beside him, intense relief had flowed through him, for he knew what might have been. He'd had a glimpse into an alternate reality, and it had scared the crap out of him.
 
And Daniel…
 
Poor Daniel was still trying to deal with his own sense of right and justice; Jack knew that. Daniel harbored a guilt that was even more overwhelming than his own, more intense, and would take longer to assuage. For a man had died in his place, and Jack knew how hard that would be hitting his friend.
 
Some time soon, he really ought to go talk to him. Daniel needed his help more than he'd let himself think about until now.
 
 
That time, however, hadn't actually come in time, for Daniel was already at Jack's office, shyly, hesitantly, standing in the doorway.
 
"Can I come in?"
 
Jack felt guilty all over again, for having made Daniel come to him, for not letting his friend know that he really had meant to come and check on him, talk to him, of his own accord… "Of course."
 
"It wouldn't have been me."
 
"What are you talking about?" Jack frowned.
 
"It wouldn't have been me, Jack." Daniel pulled up a chair. "I've just gone over all the post-mission reports. SG-1's and SG-10's." Daniel's demeanor was a mix of excitement and sorrow, a wistfulness that Jack couldn't yet understand.
 
"Go on."
 
"Well… look." Daniel pointed to the signed deal between SG-1 and 10, and the Intri-roans. "Down here, by each thumb print, yours and theirs, are the words, 'su-ro, intasi ma neren, su-tiro'. 'Honour us with silence'. They didn't want to talk about the deal again, until we actually arrived back on their planet to fulfill it. Whether it's a ritual or superstition, Jack, that was their seal…. So what did Matthews do? Near the gate, according to all the reports, he turned around and told them he was looking forward to doing business with them. He shouldn't have done that, but he didn't know." Daniel kept his gaze intensely upon Jack, waiting for the full meaning of what he was saying to penetrate. A man should not have died over words so innocent. "I wouldn't have done that, Jack; I knew what the words meant. I would've made sure no one said anything. Sagrenac wouldn't have attacked me or anyone else."
 
As Daniel's words sank in, visible relief flooded Jack's features, and he realized the implications of what his teammate was saying. Jack looked his friend deeply in the eye this time, and knew then what it was that made his team so good at what they did, so seemingly indestructible. His team was different than those solely military groupings, and it was all their skills and talents combined that worked to make a cohesive, diverse, successfully functioning unit. It was a team that needed each of their skills to survive, each one complementing and enhancing the others, and Jack realized that because of their differences, his team would always have the best chance of returning from missions unscathed.
 
Jack felt his hand going up to Daniel's shoulder, then his cheek. Had Daniel come on this mission, they never would have realized what would have happened without him. They would have returned home victorious, and he, Jack, would have continued taking Daniel for granted, never suspecting just how much they owed him. How many other missions might have turned out badly, had Daniel not been there to interpret or intervene? This small venture into another possible reality, becoming their own reality, had opened his eyes wide.
 
"It was a cultural misinterpretation that also got SG-10 captured, Jack. I don't think it's a very stable or safe culture to be doing business with, at least without someone fluent in the language and customs. Even then, one small slip could get someone else killed."
 
Jack knew that if this deal were to continue, Daniel would have to be the one going each and every time. He'd have to be there the whole time the mining operations were continuing. And one accidental slip up of the language, one wrong word or action, could get him killed.
 
"I'll recommend to Hammond we not go back there." Jack took one more serious look at his archaeologist. "I'm truly sorry Matthews died, Daniel. And you may think this sounds like a horrible thing to say, but we need you more." Giving Daniel's cheek one last pat, Jack turned and headed off towards Hammond's office, his mission one of caution, necessity, and simple survival.
 
 
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