![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knitted posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
anythingdrabbleTitle: Lifting The Curse
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Characters/Pairings: Jack, Daniel, Others.
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG
Summary: Now that Jack and everyone at the SGC are themselves again, SG-1 need to retrieve Daniel and give him the cure.
Jack O’Neill fumbled at his forehead, relieved to find no trace of the bulging brow ridges he’d had earlier; from what he could feel, his face was back to normal, he was no longer one of the Touched, which was good because the caveman look hadn’t been flattering.
He didn’t remember too much from when he’d been… whatever, mostly pain, confusion, and struggling to keep hold of some sense of self even as everything was slipping away from him, but that was enough for him to know he didn’t want to go there again.
Had to though, back to P3X-797, because Daniel was back there, somewhere, and no matter how annoying young Doc Jackson could sometimes be, he didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life as some kind of sub-human savage. He was too smart for that, it would be a waste, and anyway, SG-1 needed him. Besides, Jack owed him.
So, back through the Gate the rest of the team went, hoping their missing teammate wouldn’t have wandered too far, which thankfully he hadn’t, and then it was simply a case of dosing him with antihistamines, and dragging him to the Land of Light, as proof that the Touched could be cured.
Easy-peasy.
The Untouched weren’t too happy, but this was for their benefit as much as Daniel’s, they needed to see for themselves that their kinfolk weren’t lost to them, that they could be saved, restored to the people they’d been before they’d become infected.
Sure enough, once the shot he’d been given kicked in, Daniel sat up, blinking blearily, confused, but his normal self. Yeah, those brow ridges hadn’t suited Daniel any more than they had Jack, or General Hammond for that matter. Jack had a vague recollection of the General’s appearance when they’d been sharing their makeshift cell. Not a pretty sight, not that he ever had been.
In some ways, everything that had happened turned out to be worthwhile. Yes, the civilisation on P3X-797 was primitive compared to present-day earth; they had no technology that would benefit the SGC. But by helping them lift the ‘curse’ from their people, they’d gained a new ally, and who was to say what the Untouched, or whatever they wanted to call themselves now, might know that could prove useful someday?
Maybe it was enough that the people of earth would be welcome among their newfound friends.
The End
He didn’t remember too much from when he’d been… whatever, mostly pain, confusion, and struggling to keep hold of some sense of self even as everything was slipping away from him, but that was enough for him to know he didn’t want to go there again.
Had to though, back to P3X-797, because Daniel was back there, somewhere, and no matter how annoying young Doc Jackson could sometimes be, he didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life as some kind of sub-human savage. He was too smart for that, it would be a waste, and anyway, SG-1 needed him. Besides, Jack owed him.
So, back through the Gate the rest of the team went, hoping their missing teammate wouldn’t have wandered too far, which thankfully he hadn’t, and then it was simply a case of dosing him with antihistamines, and dragging him to the Land of Light, as proof that the Touched could be cured.
Easy-peasy.
The Untouched weren’t too happy, but this was for their benefit as much as Daniel’s, they needed to see for themselves that their kinfolk weren’t lost to them, that they could be saved, restored to the people they’d been before they’d become infected.
Sure enough, once the shot he’d been given kicked in, Daniel sat up, blinking blearily, confused, but his normal self. Yeah, those brow ridges hadn’t suited Daniel any more than they had Jack, or General Hammond for that matter. Jack had a vague recollection of the General’s appearance when they’d been sharing their makeshift cell. Not a pretty sight, not that he ever had been.
In some ways, everything that had happened turned out to be worthwhile. Yes, the civilisation on P3X-797 was primitive compared to present-day earth; they had no technology that would benefit the SGC. But by helping them lift the ‘curse’ from their people, they’d gained a new ally, and who was to say what the Untouched, or whatever they wanted to call themselves now, might know that could prove useful someday?
Maybe it was enough that the people of earth would be welcome among their newfound friends.
The End
