Hurt/Comfort
Genre: H/C, angst, humor, whumping, and others I can't think of right now.
Summary: Daniel's been having a run of bad luck, is he cursed? Or is someone out to get him?
A/N I had posted this teaser last year and forgot about it I'm reposting with the intention of finishing the story. Sorry for the wait. Cynic-al
Prologue
Jack pushed passed Frasier and ripped open the curtain partition.
"Sir!" cried Sam tears already streaming down her face.
"No, Carter!" yelled Jack then he turned to the gurney and Daniel laid prone pale against the white sheets. "He's not dead." he said sternly not turning around he advanced on the bed and put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Daniel," he said giving him a shake, "you're not dead!" he stared into glassy eyes the body unmoved unyielding to his touch. Jack gathered the man into his arms. "You can't be dead," he whispered, "you're not dead." Daniel stared over Jack's shoulder at Sam's stricken face and Teal'c's frozen mask. Janet pulled the curtain around them and he saw that she too was upset. "You're not dead." Jack breathed on his shoulder.
'No,' thought Daniel, though he couldn't say it, 'I'm not dead.' Janet eased Jack off him and they laid Daniel back onto the bed then with one final look that said goodbye she pulled a sheet over Daniel's head. 'Wait,' said Daniel silently, 'Jack, I'm not dead. I'm not dead.' He repeated unheard, for hours, 'I'm not dead. I'm not dead,' but as the drawer slammed home in the morgue, he began to consider, 'Maybe I am dead.'