Disclaimer - MGM/Gekko/Double Secret own them.
Sequel of sorts to ‘Written Evidence’, which can be found here.
‘Jolinar’s Memories’ episode addition, set just after Sam is taken away and Jack tells them where to shove it – so to speak. Spoilers for ‘Tok’ra, Part 2’, ‘Show and Tell’, ‘Seth’, and ‘Jolinar’s Memories’.
“That was stupid, Jack. Really stupid.”
He keeps fussing with the jackets folded up beneath Jacob’s head, trying to make him comfortable. Focusing on the job at hand. “So what else is new?”
Jacob isn’t impressed. “I’m serious, Jack. I know these guys better than you do. You don’t wanna piss them off.”
He fakes a shrug; an act of carelessness. Still fussing. Carter asked him to look after Dad. So he would. “Have to disagree with you, Jake. Pissing bad guys off is the point of my existence. Besides,” He grunts, shifting Jacob’s whole body, just a little. Convinced he’s now as comfortable as he’s going to get, he sits back. “You seem to know these guys a little too well. I’d rather not, thanks.”
His mind struggles for something else to do. Maybe Jacob really isn’t *that* comfortable...but moving him a lot can’t be good. He has no idea what – if anything – too much movement would do to Selmak. Frankly he doesn’t really care what happens to the snake, but there’s a good chance that if it died, Jacob would too.
And Carter asked him to look after Dad. So he would.
“You comfortable?” He asks.
“Sure,” A tired, sarcastic response. “Now just pass me that beer and a bowl of nuts, and I’ll be set for life.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. He likes Jacob – he really does. And yet the guy manages to get himself hurt every time he sees him. Dying of cancer, attacked by the Reetou, hand-deviced by Seth... “You gotta start taking better care of yourself, Jacob. You’re starting to get injured more often than Daniel.”
“Hey...” A mild objection from the man in question, sitting on the other side of the bars.
“Not intentional,” Jacob mutters, wincing as if his head is hurting.
Movement, and suddenly Martouf is next to him, leaning towards Jacob.
Maybe, just maybe, Jack had been ignoring him.
Martouf is holding that small plastic bottle; Jacob hadn’t emptied it entirely earlier and now he finishes the rest, greedily sipping the bright blue dregs. His lips pucker, moving away from the bottle, and he sighs. “Thanks,”
Jack tries not to aim an elbow into Martouf’s ribs, but he’s not sure if he succeeds. “I got it.”
The Tok’ra moves away, and Jack subconsciously huddles closer to Jacob. “You all right?”
“I...the pain flares up every now and then. Never know when it’s gonna...hit.”
Definitely something Jack had experience of – if not the exact situation. “You’d better heed my words, young man. You got a daughter to come back to who’ll be pissed if you up and die on her.”
Jacob doesn’t smile. He frowns, more than he has been, and speaks. “You’re worried about her.”
His response is immediate. “Of course. She’s on my team.”
But that isn’t the reason.
He was there, when she told Martouf.
When she told him what Jolinar did to escape. And he knows, without even having to think about it, that given the chance to save them and her Dad, she’d do exactly the same.
And it’s worse, somehow, than the thought that she was going to die. Worse than freaking out by the water dispenser or shaking on her porch. Worse than the thought that he’d never see her again.
So that isn’t the reason – and Jacob knows it.
He told her he’d look after Dad. So he does; he moves, speaking to Martouf. Describing the only weakness he’s capable of showing: physical. That drop into the pit really must have wrenched something; he was finding it increasingly difficult to sit the way he was. He really thinks he needs to lie down.
Martouf agrees, as Jack knew he would. Sitting where the Colonel had been, as Jack moves to the other side of the bars and spreads out on the floor, staring at the dark, dirty, smoke-smeared ceiling.
It isn’t easier there. There’s nothing to focus on there.
But Carter asked him to look after Dad. So he did.
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