Title: Privation
Author: The Flaming Dragonfly
Category: Angst, H/C
Season/Episode: Around season 3 or 4.
Spoilers: I don't believe there are any.
Warnings: A little strong language.
Summary: Daniel has troubles. His friends are there for him.
As this is my first SG-1 fanfic, feedback is greatly appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be absorbed.
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld, and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles, and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and is solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea, and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
PRIVATION
What…what's going on? I don't know…
Why can't I see anything? It's so dark. Where is everyone?
I can't see… I think…it's bad. My head hurts. Something's wrong.
I can't hear anything. I can't see and I can't hear. My God, what's going on?
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I must be in the infirmary. It feels like one of their beds. And it smells like it. I can't see or hear anything. Something has happened, but I have no idea what. I can't remember coming back through the gate, but obviously something has happened to cause me to temporarily lose my hearing and sight. Just because I can't remember what happened to cause this…
Surely there's an explanation for this. The mission was routine. Meet and greet. No danger. No surprises. Jack was bored. We were preparing to return. Then…something. I remember seeing the gate in the distance. Walking. Then…
Did I fall? I think I remember falling down.
Pain in my head. Like a flash of light. Then nothing until now.
I'm scared.
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Someone is taking my blood pressure. At least I can feel. I'm okay for now. I mean, at least I'm alive. Just can't see or hear.
Doctor Fraiser will figure this out. I just have to be patient. She always has the answers. It may take her awhile, but I know she'll figure this out. I just have to wait a little longer.
Just hope she hurries.
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What's this? A call button. Someone is putting a call button in my hand. Sure, I'll push the button and then you can guess what I want. Funny.
Holding the call button. Should I push it? I don't feel anyone nearby. I wish…
I push the call button.
That was fast! I feel soft hands on my arm. It must be Fraiser. The hands are small. They feel good on my arm…cool, soft.
What…oh, a straw. She must think I'm thirsty. Okay, I'll drink some for her.
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My eyes are closed. I open them but nothing is different, so I just keep them closed. I wish I could close my ears.
If your eyes are closed, you're not supposed to be able to see anything. So by keeping them closed, I'm playing a game called fooling yourself. See, my eyes are closed, so of course I can't see anything.
My ears ruin the game.
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This is not good. I've really got to use the bathroom. What am I supposed to do? I can't find the call button. I know it's around…probably just beyond my fingers.
Hey! Anybody there? I think I'm speaking.
Must've worked. Someone's touching my arm. Now what?
Bathroom. Did I say it?
Oh. A urinal. Well, I guess this is gonna have to work. Don't have much choice.
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I can't stop fidgeting. This bed is too bumpy. Don't they have anything more comfortable?
I've been really patient. I've waited for the cure. I mean, what else can I do, right? Just lie here and wait. But enough is enough. It's time for things to begin happening, so let's get going here. Daniel's getting tired of darkness and silence. Daniel would really like to see and hear again. Anybody listening to my body language? I'm pretty fluent by now. Another language to add to my repertoire.
I roll over for the millionth time and bump into someone. Who?
A hand on my shoulder, large and firm. Jack. I know his touch. Amazing strength in his fingers. I stop moving immediately, instantly soothed by the pressure. But he removes his hand. I can't tell if he's still there. I reach out. Please don't take your touch away already.
The hand returns. This time I manage to grasp the fingers…hold on to them. Please don't take your touch away, Jack. I'm really…starting to freak out here. Can't see; can't hear. Not a fun time. Somehow you've got to convince me that it's going to be all right. You've got to do some talking to me through your hands.
He's still holding my hand. I know he's got to be embarrassed. I would be. But he hasn't tried to pull away. Maybe…maybe he knows how scared I am. I think he understands me better when I can't talk.
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I don't like this. Even though I can feel the hands guiding me and I know that I won't be led into a wall, I still want to push my own hands out to feel my way.
We're in the bathroom again. I really hate this. The urinal was bad enough, but sitting on the toilet wondering who's trying not to watch while I do my business is just about the worst thing. I don't know how much longer I can do this.