***********
They stepped from the wormhole into a confusion of limbs and teeth. They had found the Colonel, but what his state of health was had become a mote point under the circumstances.
Teal’c was the first to react, his staff weapon blasting into the creatures, devastating the ranks of those at the back. In the centre of the melee, Colonel O’Neill was a blur of pounding fists and kicking legs, moving like a man demented, or rather, a man fighting for his life.
There was no time for subtlety.
Teal’c blasted a path to his commander, leaving a trail of body parts and the smell of burnt flesh, until there were only a few animals between him and his objective. He was dimly aware of the sound of Tau’ri weapons, but ignored it, focusing all his attention on his goal.
**********
Jack knew his team had come back of him, the wormhole’s burst of energy had nearly taken his head off, and had completely engulfed several of the larger beasts. The pack had leapt back, even the leader cringing down and retreating a few feet. The resulting confusion given him the time he desperately needed to gain his feet and take the initiative before the creatures had leapt at him again, but now he was standing, more able to defend himself, and hopefully inflict some damage. All he needed was to hold his own for the few minutes it would take for SG-1 to ride to the rescue like the Seventh Cavalry.
Unfortunately holding his own was becoming more difficult by the second.
The leader’s massive jaw was clamped around his arm, and something in the back of Jack’s mind was thankful it was the left one. There wasn’t much more that could be done to that one, he had been unable to use it for hours now.
But he still had his right arm.
He reached out, instinctively seeking his goal without needing to look. His thumb hooked into the corner of the large eye socket and he pressed, feeling the squish as it sunk down.
***********
The yelp was loud, even over the sound of battle.
It heralded an eerie silence.
Teal’c looked about him in confusion, his enemy suddenly gone. The only movement was from the humans, standing with equally astonished looks on their faces.
There was a low cry, and the sound of a body falling.
O’Neill!
The Colonel was on his knees, head down, chin sunken into his chest. One arm was wrapped tightly around the other as if hugging himself, the white fingers standing out in sharp contrast to the red running freely from between them.
“Jack!”
A figure ran past, beating Teal’c to O’Neill’s side, and Daniel Jackson launched himself to his knees, gripping the slumped shoulders.
There was no point in asking if O’Neill was injured, Teal’c could see that for himself, the question was rather, how badly. Major Carter was the one best able assess his condition, and he tore his gaze from the two men kneeling in front of him, looking up, searching for his remaining teammate.
She was standing, shoulder to shoulder with Major Lawrence, the rest of SG-3 ranged in a loose circle around Colonel O’Neill, their weapons raised, and, when he looked beyond them, Teal’c realised that the pack hadn’t vanished at all.
They were all there, watching.
In the front sat the largest animal, blood and fluid dripping from a sightless eye, its remaining one fixed on O’Neill.
“How is he?” Major Lawrence’s voice broke the silence. There was no need to ask who he meant, and Teal’c waited with the rest for Daniel Jackson’s reply.
***********
Daniel could feel the fine tremors running through Jack’s body.
“Jack?”
The reaction was slight, but there. His friend’s breath caught for a moment, before his head came slowly up, and his eyes opened to meet Daniel’s.
He tried to hold back a gasp, but was unable to.
It was Jack. Against all odds they had found him.
But were they in time?
He looked dead, only his harsh laboured breathing giving a lie to deathly paleness of his face.
“Sam!” Daniel knew she was busy, he had seen the watching animals only a few feet away, but he needed her there, now. He needed someone else to come and tell him he was wrong, that they were in time, that Jack was fine, that he wasn’t dying right before their eyes.
“Christ!” Daniel barely registered Sam’s reaction as she dropped beside him. “What the hell has happened to him?”
Jack’s shoulders heaved and Daniel tightened his grip on them. Then he heard it. Jack was laughing, the sound strained, but there none the less. His eyes came up and held Daniel’s before flicking to Sam’s, dark black pools sunken deep into their sockets.
“Hell. That’s exactly it – Hell.” Daniel felt fingers graze lightly along his arm. “Can we go home now?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a plea, and that was almost more frightening than his appearance.
Daniel looked at Sam. She shook her head, indicating the waiting pack, and Daniel finally realised the full extent of their predicament.
The animals were between them and the Gate.
**********
It was real. They were here.
So why weren’t they taking him home?
He was so tired.
So deathly tired.
Daniel had that expression on his face that meant there was something seriously wrong, and Carter…
Jack straightened his shoulders, finally taking in the scene.
Oh crap! They were still there. Still waiting for him.
Wouldn’t they ever let him go?
He stared into the leader’s eyes. Eye. He couldn’t help it, feeling his face break into a wide grin, his vindictive streak coming to the fore. At least he would be remembered.
A small paw pushed against his abdomen.
Shit!
He loosened his grip on his arm, letting it drop to hang at his side, barely hearing the horrified gasp from his teammates. Reaching inside his shirt he pulled the pup free, holding it up to examine it for injuries. It seemed fine, none the worse for its adventure.
With a smile, he set it down, giving it a small push towards its family. There was no need for it to be hurt.
The Marines stepped back, and everyone watched as the tiny creature staggered away from them, reaching the pack within minutes. A thin female pushed its way through the others to meet it, bending down to sniff its fur, then taking it up, holding it firmly in its jaws.
Then it vanished.
**********
The leader gave his pack the signal to follow the pup’s mother home.
He watched the strange creatures clustering around the prey, the pain from his damaged eye warning him not to interfere.
They could leave.
The pup was safe. The prey was dry anyway, and would be of no further use.
He turned his back contemptuously, the scene not worthy of his attention, disappearing into a fold of light.
**********
Feet clattered on the metal ramp, heralding the return of the rescue team. The personnel in the Control Room held their collective breaths, waiting.
Colonel Lawrence came first, followed closely by Major Carter.
“Medical team!”
The Major’s shout was urgent and the tension rose accordingly, all eyes still fixed on the open wormhole.
Then he was through.
Held between Teal’c and Captain Shamol, his feet dragging.
Daniel’s arrival with the remaining members of SG-3 was barely noticed as Colonel O’Neill was lifted onto a gurney and pushed rapidly from the room.
The iris slammed shut.
More than one shocked set of eyes glanced at the clock far up on the wall. After so long waiting, it all seemed too quick, too sudden.
“SG-3, report to the infirmary for your post mission checks. Debriefing in an hour.” General Hammond’s matter of fact voice broke the silence. He didn’t need to order SG-1 from the Gate Room, they were already following hard on the heels of their fallen leader.
*********
SG-1 stood on the far side of the large room, watching and listening, trying to interpret as much as they could from the activity hidden behind the thick curtain. Machines were pushed past them, followed closely by bag after bag of blood. Janet’s slightly panicked voice could be heard above all else, snapping orders.
Then he was pushed out. They caught the briefest glimpse of a far too pale face above white sheets, before the gurney was gone, the operating room doors swinging shut to block the view.
“Janet!”
The doctor barely paused, casting a ‘Not now, Sam” behind her as she followed her patient, stripping off surgical gloves stained with the Colonel’s blood and tossing them into a bin as she passed. The doors had hardly time to still before Doctor Warner dashed through them.
“Get yourselves cleaned up, people. I want you in the Briefing Room in forty-five minutes.” General Hammond stood at the entrance to the infirmary, his expression compassionate. He looked towards Daniel and shook his head. “And before you ask, Doctor Jackson – no. I’m sure the Colonel will be in there for some time and I need to know exactly what happened. For that I need you at the debriefing. You can come back here after.”
Daniel nodded, turning his eyes back to the closed doors as if trying to see through them. “Yes, sir.”
“We will be there as requested, General Hammond”
The General nodded in response to Teal’c’s firm statement, silent communication passing between himself and the Jaffa. Teal’c would see that both his teammates were on time for the debriefing.
*************
“Doctor?”
Warner’s eyes lifted from above the green surgical mask to meet those of his colleague.
“I’ve done all I can for now. He’ll have to be carefully monitored, and if his condition stabilises within the next few days I’ll begin repairs on his arm. If not…” He didn’t continue, knowing Fraiser was well aware of the implications. He stepped back as the nurses and orderlies prepared the Colonel for transfer to the private room off the main ward.
Janet tugged the covering from her hair, giving it a shake. Her tiredness was obvious, and Warner knew it was mirrored in his own body.
O’Neill was in hypovolemic shock when brought into the OR, and that had been the doctors’ priority. Even now Warner was surprised that his fellow officer had held on long enough for them push in the volume of fluid needed to save his life. He had worked so hard to repair the torn blood vessels and arteries in O’Neill’s left arm, finally managing to stop the bleeding, but as to whether they could save the limb was still doubtful – the damage was so severe.
He sighed, following Fraiser towards the showers. Such concerns were academic considering O’Neill’s condition. The man had practically been drained dry. How he had lasted long enough to make it to the OR was a mystery, but one that Warner should have expected, knowing O’Neill’s propensity for survival in the most dire of circumstances.
“Doctor!”
Warner turned, his hand already on the door, finding a nurse running towards him. One part of his brain automatically prepared a reprimand for running, while the other took in the look of fear on her face.
“Quickly, Doctor. It’s the Colonel.”
Damn! He sped up, following her into the ward. He had known it was too good to be true. The Colonel had finally run out of luck.
He screeched to a halt, finding his way to the bed blocked by bodies.
“Let me through.” His words made a hole through which he pushed, only to be confronted by the last thing he expected.
The bed was empty.
*********
Daniel Jackson practically flew from the elevator, running down the corridor outside the infirmary and into the ward without pausing, Teal’c, Sam, and an out of breath General Hammond following hard on his heels.
He looked around, unwilling to believe what they had been told – that his critically ill friend had vanished from the infirmary. “Where is he?”
“That’s what I’d like to know, Doctor.” The General fixed Warner with a steely glare, as if daring him to hesitate.
Doctor Warner didn’t give a direct answer, turning first and pointing at the bed, the drips pouring their contents uselessly onto the sheets.
“He was here. He can’t have left by himself. He hadn’t come out of the anesthetic.” The doctor bent to look under the bed, a sign of desperation in its simplicity. Daniel would have found the sight amusing if it wasn’t for the look of panic on Warner’s face.
“Where the hell’s my patient?” Janet Fraiser’s outraged voice cut through the babble. Her hair was dripping and damp patches showed through the material of her uniform blouse, telling of a very hurried departure from the shower.
Doctor Warner stepped back, gesturing wildly at some of the nurses. “I don’t know. Cordato, Finley, and Shaw were settling Colonel O’Neill when he just apparently…” He paused, and looked uncomfortable, “…disappeared.”
“He did, sir.” Nurse Cordato, the senior nurse on duty stepped away from the group of medical personnel and addressed herself directly to the General. “We were adjusting the Colonel’s IV lines. I had my hand on his arm, when suddenly there was a …sort of…” She thought for a moment as if getting her facts straight before continuing. “There was a shimmer, and he was gone.”
“What do you mean ‘gone’?” Janet demanded, “You mean he got up?”
The nurse shook her head. “No, Doctor, I mean he was gone. He just vanished.” She looked at the bed as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “One second he was there, the next he wasn’t.”
“He can’t have just disappeared. He has to be here somewhere.” She stared at the empty bed as if by pure will alone she could make his absence a fallacy.
“You say there was a shimmer? Like a ripple?” Daniel almost hoped the nurse wouldn’t confirm his suspicions, but she did, nodding.
“Doctor Jackson?”
Daniel tore his gaze from the blood slowly spreading across the bed, dripping from the bag fixed above a nonexistent patient, to meet the puzzled stare of the General.
“Are you thinking this has some connection to the creatures’ ability to disappear?”
Daniel nodded. “Yes, I do. It’s the only explanation.”
“So where is he?” Sam spoke for the first time, her eyes flitting about the room.
Janet brushed a hand through her hair and pulled it away to wipe the moisture off onto her white coat. “Wherever he is, we have to find him fast. His condition is far from stable and any delay in treatment could have irreversible consequences.”
**********
Finally Jack felt safe, here in darkness so deep that even the lightning behind his eyes failed to brighten it. He was home, the familiar smells and sounds of the SGC grounding him, and relaxing him further.
His team had come back for him.
He was home and safe, here in the dark.
Soon he would wake, in the infirmary, probably to the sight of Daniel or Carter sitting beside him. Teal’c would be on guard at the foot of the bed, watching.
He knew that this time his recovery would be slow, he could still feel the pain from his arm even though the medication, but come what may, against all the odds, he was home.
Jack stretched out, drawing his knees from his chest, relaxing. All around him he heard the mountain groan, low sounds as the rock moved. It was soothing, coming from far beneath the earth and reaching out to him.
In a corner of the blackness a lighter, quicker song began. Younger and more eager it moved through the darkness as if seeking him out. A ripple, a splash, dancing quicksilver light, and it took Jack with it.
***********
Down in a forgotten basement, in the unused sublevels of the SGC, a patch of red in a disturbed layer of dust was the only sign that anyone had ever been there.
**********
Walter was upset.
The call had come through for a base wide search to be carried out for Colonel O’Neill, who had somehow gone missing from the infirmary, and Walter was stuck in the Control Room, unable to help.
He had done his part, hunting behind equipment for the Colonel, knowing full well that there was no way the injured man had snuck in without being spotted. Then he sat back and watched as the SF’s guarding the Gate did the same thing in the vast, almost empty room.
He shook his head ruefully, wondering at the futility of the exercise, given that there were even less hiding places in the Gate Room than in the Control Room. He wanted to do something more, wanted to help organize the search, but instead he was here.
He knew someone had to monitor the equipment, and guard the Gate, but why him? Colonel O’Neill was a well liked officer, and one that Walter had grown to respect over the years.
He wanted to do more.
Walter sighed as he turned away from the window, going back to the program he was running on one of the computers. For the last two days he’d tried to complete this work, but nothing he could do would make it run correctly and now it was taking five hours to do a process that last week was only taking twenty minutes.
He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the machine. Major Carter would have been able to fix it in a few minutes, but she had been off world, looking for the Colonel.
He poised his fingers over the keyboard, determined to beat this thing, and for the next few minutes concentrated on his task.
“Sergeant!”
Walter groaned in frustration as the call came from the Gate Room. Typical – just when he was getting somewhere.
Moving back to the window, he looked down.
The guards were in a huddle, bending over something on the ramp, just in front of the Gate. Heaven help them if there was an unscheduled activation!
Then one of the SF’s stepped back, and Walter had a clearer view of what was going on, recognizing the figure.
Confirmation came as a guard shouted up at him.
“It’s the Colonel!”
**********
General Hammond had just entered the Briefing Room when the report reached him, and he was one of the first to respond.
He found his missing man lying on the cold metal of the ramp, his hospital gown soaked through with blood.
The guards made room, and he crouched down awkwardly, placing a hand on cold flesh. O’Neill’s eyes opened at the touch of his hand, looking vacant at first, then suddenly focusing, catching his own and holding them.
“Colonel?”
“Hi, sir.” The voice was soft and tentative.
Hammond tightened his grip on O’Neill’s arm as the brown eyes slid shut.
**********
“Do you have any explanation for what happened?” Hammond would have run his fingers through his hair if he had had any – hair that was – fingers he had in abundance if the loud drumming on the Briefing Room table was anything to go by.
Doctor Fraiser shook her head, her gaze moving between her notes and the closed door. “I can only speculate at this time, sir. A connection between the animals on PX5-188 and the disappearance of the Colonel is obvious, given the reports from the SG teams.”
“Is it likely to happen again?”
Janet lifted her shoulders in a shrug at Hammond’s question. “There’s no way of knowing.” She paused before continuing, as if uncomfortable with her next words. “I’ve ordered him restrained.”
There were small sounds of protest from O’Neill’s younger teammates.
“Will that prevent his disappearance?”
Janet turned her gaze to the Jaffa at the far end of the long table, and Hammond leaned forwarded to better hear her reply.
“I don’t see how it can, but I have to try everything.”
“O’Neill will not be pleased.” Teal’c articulated the thoughts that were running through everyone’s minds.
“Is he conscious?” Daniel asked, distress showing in his voice.
“He should be coming out of the anesthetic soon.” The doctor turned back to the General. “If I may, sir?”
Hammond nodded, understanding her desire to be with her patient. “Dismissed, Doctor.”
“Janet.” The Doctor stopped in the process of leaving, and looked back at Major Carter. “Is he allowed visitors?”
“Of course, Sam. In fact I’d rather his team was there when he wakes up.”
Doctor Fraiser hurried out, and General Hammond waited for the door to close behind her before speaking. He looked at the worried faces around the table. The uncertainty he felt was mirrored in their eyes.
“Major,” He drew Major Carter’s attention back to him and watched as she straightened. “Do you have any speculation on the cause of this ability of the animals which may be of use?”
“I do have some theories, sir. It could be that the creatures are similar to the Reetou.”
Daniel interrupted her. “But the Reetou were just invisible to us, they couldn’t disappear from one place and appear in another at will. We know that’s what Jack did from the evidence of the surveillance cameras. He didn’t walk to the Gate Room.”
“The dust on his clothing indicates he was elsewhere first.” Teal’c reminded them. “As Daniel Jackson has stated, O’Neill could not have traveled any distance by traditional means, therefore he must have transported there in some way.”
“Transported?”
“I do not mean that O’Neill was moved by a transporter such as the Asgard use, General.” Teal’c explained. “I merely use the word to indicate a method of instantaneous travel.”
“Actually, perhaps Teal’c has something there. The common thread in any descriptions of the animals’ and the Colonel’s disappearance, is a shimmering of light.” Major Carter grabbed a pen from the table and began making notes on the pad in front of her. “I’ll set up some equipment in the Colonel’s room to monitor any changes similar to those that occur when a transporter beam is used.”
“But how is Jack doing it?” Daniel waved one hand vaguely. “What’s causing it?”
They could only look at each other, unable to answer.
**********
The first thing Jack saw was Janet Fraiser’ face hovering over him, her forehead creased into a frown.
The first thing he felt was the tight band around his right wrist.
He shut his eyes again, forcing his breathing to calm, hearing the rapid beeps of a monitor from somewhere above his head. The light touch of a hand on his shoulder and the Doctor’s calm voice reached him through the beginnings of panic and he dragged his eyes open again.
“Sir. You’re in the infirmary. Do you remember what happened?”
He nodded, and took a grateful sip of the water she held out to him. “Hyenas.” He glanced around, feeling the same disorientation he had experienced as he tried to reach the Gate. “Home?”
“Yes, sir, you’re home.” She took her hand away and he felt surprisingly bereft, as if he needed physical touch to be sure this was real. He tugged at his hand again, unable to lift it.
“Colonel, I have to run a few tests. You know the drill.”
Jack nodded at the slightly apologetic tone in the Doc’s voice, and blinked as a penlight was shone into his eyes.
Crap, it hurt! His head felt like it was about to explode and he rubbed his hand across his eyes in an effort to clear them, strands of color shooting across his vision.
He didn’t hear Janet’s gasp of surprise as he fought to stay focused.
**********
Colonel O’Neill slept, his injured arm, heavily bandaged, cushioned at his side. Sam was careful not to touch it as she attached the complicated monitoring equipment to his other arm, lying across his chest. She moved as silently as possible, not wanted to wake him, indicating her orders to the men helping her with gestures.
Finally everything was in place, and soon SG-1 and Janet were the only ones in the room.
The hours past slowly, and still the Colonel slept, and each time he flickered into transparency, one of his friends touched him, and brought him back.
**********
The cry was loud, and caught the attention of everyone in the room.
“Sir?” The duty nurse moved to her patient’s side, and Daniel pushed his chair back to give her room. “Colonel O’Neill?”
She bent forward, only to jump back, startled when Jack sat up in bed, his eyes open wide and staring.
“Jack?” Daniel watched as his friend extended his arm, holding it straight out as if reaching for something, his fingers moving, tracing a shape in the air.
Then Jack did something even more unexpected – he lifted his other arm, twisting it so that the inside of his forearm faced upwards as if offering it for examination. Slowly, the monitors ceased the frantic sounds they had begun when he first stirred and levelled off, calming.
Daniel looked over at the nurse, questioning. She responded by lifting the intercom’s handset and requesting Doctor Fraiser’s presence.
Jack’s eyes were open, staring vacantly into the distance, while his lips were turned up in a small smile. Whatever Jack was experiencing wasn’t unpleasant.
Daniel couldn’t think what to do. Surely the movement must be excruciatingly painful, given his injury, but Jack didn’t seem to be in any discomfort, in fact, quite the opposite.
“Colonel?”
Daniel registered Janet’s presence as she moved to his side. The doctor glanced quickly up at the monitors before taking Jack’s outstretched arm and gently lowing it.
“He doesn’t seem to know we’re here, Janet. What’s he doing?” Daniel asked, unable to look into Jack’s unfocused eyes any more.
Janet shook her head. “I don’t know.” She motioned to the watching nurse, and together the two women eased Jack back down in bed. Janet picked up the chart, giving it a puzzled frown. “The medication I’ve prescribed shouldn’t have this effect.”
“What effect?”
She took her penlight from her pocket and shone it into Jack’s eyes as she answered. “It’s as if he was under the influence of a narcotic.”
“You mean he’s stoned?” Daniel couldn’t help raising his voice in startled reaction to her statement.
“I don’t know, Daniel. He shouldn’t be able to lift his arm…. and his heart rate has slowed considerably.” She began drawing a blood sample, explaining as she worked. “I’ll have this analysed as soon as possible. The previous tests showed the presence of a foreign substance the lab was unable to identify, perhaps a comparison will show if the levels have changed and give us more information to work with.”
She handed the sample over to the nurse, and Daniel watched as the other woman left the room.
“Crap!”
Daniel’s eyes snapped back to his friend. Jack was holding a hand to his eyes, a low, desperate moan rising slowly in volume as he pressed the palm hard into an eye socket.
“What is it, sir?” Janet took the hand firmly in hers, pulling it from his face.
Jack stared up at her, confused. His words were almost too low to hear.
“It didn’t work. Too quick.”
“What didn’t work?” Daniel asked. Jack turned his gaze towards him, as if only just aware of his presence, then his focus seemed to drift once more, his gaze leaving Daniel’s face and turning towards his bandaged arm.
“They can’t feed.” His hand came across, his long fingers pulling at the dressings. “I have to let them.”
Daniel grabbed at his friend’s hand, feeling a chill as his fingers sunk through Jack’s wrist to land on the bed covers.
“No! Jack, don’t.” He shouted, uncaring of anyone listening. “Don’t go! You have to stay here.” He tried again, forcing himself to imagine the flesh beneath his hand. “We can’t help you if you leave.”
“But it hurts.”
The voice was so desolate that Daniel wanted to demand Janet do something, anything. Instead, he did what he did best, talked.
“Tell me what they did to you, Jack. What did they do to stop it hurting?”
**********
Janet listened, trying to stay detached, but terrified the Colonel would disappear again. Daniel’s hand seemed to be resting in midair, as the man in the bed faded in and out.
“Janet?”
She turned quickly to the open door, putting her fingers to her lips. Sam nodded, lowering her voice.
“The readouts on the monitors in my lab went crazy a few minutes ago. What’s going on?” Then Daniel moved position slightly.
“Damn!” Sam leaned forwarded. “How long’s he been like this?”
Janet watched as the Colonel flickered again. “A few minutes. He seemed to be having some sort of hallucination.”
The two women listened as the Colonel spoke.
**********
He kept his eyes fixed on Daniel’s, knowing they were one thing he was sure was real. Before he had felt them sucking and pulling as they fed on him, only to realise they weren’t there at all.
He was home.
So why was he still trapped back there?
And why did he want so desperately to stay?
He saw the horror in Daniel’s face as he explained what they had done. When he described the feelings he had as the blood was sucked from him, he saw his friend shiver. He tried to explain it – the mixture of pleasure and pain, the loss of which he felt so keenly, but he knew Daniel didn’t understand.
How could he? He barely understood it himself.
*********
Janet read the lab results, finally feeling she was getting somewhere. Finally they had been able to semi-identify the substance in Colonel O’Neill’s blood, revealing it to be a powerful hallucinogen unlike any they had seen before.
Combined with the story the Colonel had told Daniel, and Sam’s test results, she now enough information to come to some conclusions.
The creatures’ saliva contained a strong drug that once in the bloodstream kept the prey docile, by causing it extreme pleasure, almost as if a reward for being cooperative, It seemed this drug could be administered at will, and could be refused, as evidenced by the Colonel’s experience when he refused to let the pack feed. Whatever it was, it was slowly dissipating from Colonel O’Neill’s body, along with his ability to vanish.
Sam’s instruments had shown high levels of a similar energy to that recorded when the Reetou were on the base. She could only hypothesise that the creatures were related in some way to the Reetou, using their ability to hunt. General Hammond had refused to allow Sam to return to the planet to do more tests, and for this Janet was extremely grateful.
She stacked the pages carefully, giving the edge a bang to coax them into some sort of order, and placed them into a file cover.
General Hammond was waiting for her report. At least she finally had some good news. Within the next day or so, the chemical should have disappeared completely, and its effect along with it. The Colonel should be back to normal. No more vanishing. No more hallucinations. No more dreams.
She sobered, remembering one detail she had forgotten for a second in her relief.
Then the surgery to save his arm would begin.
**********
Jack slowly drifted into consciousness, the taste of anesthetic cloying in his mouth. His searching eyes met those of a nurse, and she stood, smiling.
“I’ve called Doctor Fraiser, sir.”
He sipped gratefully at the water she held out to him.
Quick footsteps echoed in the corridor and the door was pushed open. “You’re awake a little sooner than we expected, Colonel.” The Doc looked down at him. “Don’t try to talk just yet.”
He nodded, feeling no desire to speak, and she continued.
“The operation went well. Doctor Warner was very pleased.”
Jack tried to raise his head enough to see his left arm, and felt Janet’s hand restraining him.
“Don’t, sir. You have to stay quiet and let your body heal. I don’t want you moving around at all, okay?”
She’d get no argument there. He was already feeling the tug of sleep as the medication kicked back in.
**********
There was no doubt in Teal’c’s mind that O’Neill was improving. He stood silently, watching the sleeping man, noting the features that although still pale, had lost their translucence. In all his years he had never seen anything like it, never before watched a comrade fade away physically before his eyes until only the outline showed, hollow and bereft of soul.
One night, when alone with O’Neill, he actually felt the arm beneath his hand slip away, and he had, to his shame, panicked, shouting at the injured man to wake. By the time the duty nurse ran into the room, he had himself back under control, but when he reassured her and she reluctantly left, he found O’Neill’s eyes on him, his face creased in a puzzled frown. For a moment he rejoiced, thinking his friend to be aware of his surroundings, that was until the other man’s gaze shifted sideways and around. Moaning a low insistent plea, O’Neill held out his arm and Teal’c was hard pressed not to turn away, disgust warring with pity.
Even now, Teal’c was uncomfortable in O’Neill’s presence, knowing the price that had been paid to live.
He allowed a small sigh to escape as he sat in the somewhat uncomfortable chair beside the bed.
O’Neill was still his commander, still the man he had pledged to follow in his war against the Goa’uld. Teal’c owed him his life many times over. He was a brave man - that had not changed. Doctor Fraiser had explained the effects of the chemical in O’Neill’s blood. From her description it was much like yo’ghaju, a drug used by the lowest of Jaffa to control and enslave, to pretend they were their own masters and master of others, rather than slaves themselves.
Teal’c knew, deep in his heart, that O’Neill was not responsible for what happened, that the fact he had the strength of will to escape the creatures should be sufficient.
But he couldn’t help wondering if that strength would be enough to see O’Neill through the trials ahead.
He settled more comfortably in the chair. This man was his friend, and Teal’c would be here to help if he was needed.
It could be that support from his friends and teammates would be sorely needed soon. The Doctor had told SG-1 of the result of the second operation on O’Neill’s arm. The report had not been good, the damage perhaps too much for the Colonel to regain full use of the injured limb.
Teal’c sat, falling into a light state of kel’no’reem, while the Colonel slept.
**********
“Hey, Jack – how’s it going?”
Daniel was pleased to see his friend finally out of bed, sitting in a chair, watching the small television.
“Good, Daniel, good.” Jack smiled, not his wide happy grin, but a smile never the less, and the first Daniel had seen for weeks. “I’m getting all this…” he gestured at the heavy metal frame on his arm, “off tomorrow, and I’ll be starting physio in a couple of days if the doctors give it the all clear.”
“That’s great!” Daniel hopped up onto the vacant bed, bouncing a little. “So you should be out of here soon?”
Jack kept his gaze fixed on the television. “Not sure. Depends.”
“Uh huh.” Daniel saw the slight tightening of the other man’s lips as he spoke. “From what I hear the operations went well. Better than expected.”
“Seems that way.”
Daniel waited, but it was obvious the subject was unwelcome. He watched the images flickering on the screen for a moment. “What are you watching?”
“Sport.”
“Yes, but what sport?”
Jack finally turned towards him, the tension in his face easing a little.
“Cricket.”
“Cricket. You’re watching cricket?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Nope. Not at all. It just seems a little out of character.”
Daniel watched as the small smile grew wider.
“It’s relaxing. Makes me feel positively energetic. Why don’t you stay a while and watch it with me?”
Daniel sat back, pulling a pillow out from underneath him to fluff it up, placing it behind his head. “Okay, but only for a while. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
*********
The first thing Sam saw when she entered the Colonel’s room was him gesturing wildly, a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. Then she spotted Daniel – sound asleep and snoring on the Colonel’s bed.
“How long has he been here?” She advanced into the room, speaking softly.
“About forty minutes. He lay down and fell asleep right away. Mind you, we were watching cricket.”
Sam smiled. “Cricket? That doesn’t sound like your sort…” She was halted by another shushing movement.
“Don’t start, Carter. It’s sport, that all I need to know.”
“Sure, sir.” She grinned, then sobered, holding out the file she held. ”I brought the report on the mission. General Hammond said you were expecting it.”
The Colonel nodded, taking it. “Yes, he asked me to read it and see if I could add anything to the observations you and the others made, before it goes to Washington.”
Sam smiled ruefully. “Well, I’d rather stay and keep you company, sir, but I have to help Doctor Lee with an experiment.”
The Colonel nodded once more, already reading. “That’s okay, Carter. I have Daniel’s scintillating conversation.”
A loud snore rent the air.
**********
Daniel woke with a suddenness that had him sitting up, totally disorientated.
He looked around. He was in Jack’s room in the infirmary.
Then he heard it, probably what had woken him – the awful retching coming from the small toilet.
“Jack?” He left the bed, knocking on the shut door. “Jack? Are you okay?” Which, he decided, was a pretty stupid question given the sound he was hearing. When he didn’t get an answer he knocked again – harder. “Jack?”
“I’m fine.” The answer was accompanied by the sound of the toilet flushing.
“You don’t sound fine. Should I get Janet?”
“No!” The door was wrenched open and Jack appeared. “I said I was fine.”
He was pale and the hand wiping his mouth was shaking. Daniel shook his head.
“I think I should call Janet.”
“No, Daniel. No you shouldn’t.”
Daniel reached out to take his friend’s arm. “Come on. Lie down and I’ll call Janet. There’s obviously something wrong.”
His hand was shrugged off, and Jack’s face turned a ghastly shade of green. He gulped, speaking through clenched teeth. “I don’t need any help. What I want is for you to get the hell out of here and leave me alone.”
With that pronouncement, Jack turned back to the toilet, slamming the door shut, and the sound of retching came again.
**********
Jack lowered himself gingerly, carefully cradling his left arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he sat, eyes shut. His head was spinning, and even now he still felt like throwing up. He had no energy left, not even enough to lie back on the pillow, so he stayed upright, trying not to think.
The opening of the door was expected, but still unwelcome. Knowing who his visitor was likely to be, he didn’t look up.
“Colonel? Daniel tells me you had a bout of nausea.”
There was no point in denying it, so he didn’t try. He nodded, forcing out a simple affirmative.
“Yeah.”
“Look up at me please, sir.”
Jack lifted his head to find the Doc’s eyes staring into his, and turned his eyes away, focusing instead on a point over her shoulder.
“You don’t seem to be running a temperature.” A small hand was clasped briefly across his forehead before Fraiser continued her examination with more scientific means, checking the thermometer and nodding. “No. Temperature’s fine. Lie down, please.” She waited patiently as he eased his legs up onto the bed, and stretched out.
Jack forced himself to relax, the tension in his body a physical pain. On the edge of his awareness he heard Janet’s voice as she reattached the monitors deemed no longer needed.
“Everything seems normal, except your heart rate is a little rapid. How are you feeling now?”
How was he feeling? Sickened. Disgusted. Horrified. Guilty.
“Okay.” He realised she was waiting for something more, so he added, “I feel okay.”
“We need to work out what caused the nausea, sir. You may have developed an infection, but hopefully it has some more mundane reason.” He looked up, watching as she pushed her hair back behind her ears. Her expression was concerned and she looked around, her gaze finally settling on the remains of his lunch dishes.
“How were you feeling after lunch? Perhaps it was something you ate?”
Oh Christ!
Jack leaped to his feet, shoving the Doctor to one side, and lurched forward, dragging the leads off his body in the process.
He almost made it, just managing to open the bathroom door before throwing up over the tiled floor. He stayed hunched over, holding himself up by clinging one handed to the doorknob.
“Here, Colonel.” The male voice startled him for a second, until he realised it was one of the nurses, obviously alerted by Janet. Stepping away from the door, he was grateful for the strong arm helping him back to bed, as his legs grew progressively shakier. He took the washcloth held out to him, wiping his face, before accepting a glass of water from the Doc, sipping it and swallowing to wash away some of the foul taste. Ignoring the activity around him as the monitors were reattached and the mess cleaned up, he shut his eyes.
A needle pricked him.
“I’m taking another blood sample, sir.” He nodded his understanding, too tired to speak, as she patted his arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ve given you something to stop the nausea.”
Inching his eyes open he was surprised to see the IV had been connected up again. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes.” There was no arguing with the Doc when she used that tone of voice so he lay back, thinking.
The tests were pointless, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He knew exactly why he was sick and it was something he was going to have to work through by himself. There was no miracle cure, no magic drugs to take this away.
Just him.
A thought flashed through his mind that he should maybe talk to someone about this, but he dismissed it instantly.
No way.
Not now, not ever.
He’d get over this, get past it. All it took was willpower, and he had that in stubborn abundance.
He’d done some damn distasteful things…
Grabbing a nearby bowl, he dry retched until he tasted blood.
*********
Sam Carter could hear the angry voices before she even left the elevator, both easily recognisable. As she got closer to the infirmary the words became clear.
“Get out!” Sam had rarely heard Colonel O’Neill sound so angry. She increased her pace, almost colliding with a nurse. The young woman, looking distressed, headed for the stairs.
“This is my infirmary and I will not be ordered from it.” Sam rounded the corner and into the main ward just as Janet spoke, her tone matching that of the Colonel’s.
Whatever the problem was, it sounded more serious than the normal butting of heads Janet and the Colonel usually indulged in. The door to the private room stood open, so she entered, noting several infirmary staff avidly listening while standing out of view of the antagonists. They looked up startled, as she swept past, scattering back to their duties.
Janet Fraiser stood, arms folded and face red, glaring daggers at Colonel O’Neill, standing toe to toe and towering over her. His left arm was held in a sling, finally free of all but basic bandages, and he was dressed in loose fitting sweats.
“Ah…what’s going on?”
The Colonel didn’t take his eyes from those of Janet’s as he answered Sam’s question. “Nothing, Carter. That’s the point.” He had lowered his voice, but that only made his cold, icy tone take on an air of menace.
“Colonel O’Neill’s physiotherapy sessions have been cancelled.”
“Oh.” Sam couldn’t drag her eyes away from the throbbing vein standing out from her CO’s forehead. He was angry. Very, very angry. “Why?”
“Because she’s a power hungry sadist.”
“Because he isn’t well enough to be doing anything strenuous.”
The two voices spoke at the same time, the words running together.
Janet flushed. “I’m not going to stay here and be insulted. I suggest you lie down and make yourself comfortable, sir, because you aren’t going anywhere soon!” With that, she turned and stormed out.
Sam threw the Colonel an apologetic look, and followed after the doctor, hearing a spat out “Crap!” from his direction as she did so.
“Janet, wait up!” Despite her superior height she had to jog to catch her friend, managing to do so just as the Doctor reached her office. “What was that all about?”
Janet dragged her chair away from her desk, letting the feet scrape on the floor, and Sam cringed at the sound as she shut the door behind herself.
“Damn the man!” The Doctor spat out the words as if they were a curse, then lowered her head to cradle it in her hands, her voice becoming muffled as she did so. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t get so angry with him. It isn’t like I don’t understand how he’s feeling.”
“Can you talk to me about it?” Sam asked cautiously, mindful of Janet’s respect for her patient’s privacy.
Janet responded by lifting her head. “I don’t see why not, you know most of it anyway. The Colonel was due to start physio on his arm today, but the nausea he’s been experiencing has seriously weakened him. We still haven’t found the cause, nothing showed in the latest test results, and I’m worried.”
“Is it that bad?” Sam knew the Colonel was a bit sick, but had no idea it was anything to be so concerned about.
Janet nodded. “He’s barely keeping anything but the most basic foods down. He was well under weight when he was rescued, and he’s losing more every day. I don’t want to, but if it keeps up I’ll have to confine him to bed and tube feed him.”
“Hell!”
**********
Janet nodded again at Sam’s exclamation. There were some details she hadn’t told the other woman, details that made the situation even worse. Just how much mobility the Colonel would regain in his arm was still in question, and any delay would only exacerbate the problem.
She sympathised with his need to get back to duty, but it wasn’t going to happen if things carried on the way they were. Light duties maybe – a desk job where the most he had to do was push a pencil around a form, but certainly not active status.
Colonel O’Neill wouldn’t stand for that. He was an all or nothing kind of man – his response to the news proving that. He had gotten angry, insisting on beginning the physiotherapy even though he could hardly stand up without feeling faint. The resulting argument had been vicious and hurtful.
And Janet regretted every second of it.
**********
Exhausted by the fight with Janet Fraiser, Jack slept, twisting restlessly on the narrow bed, the dreams that had plagued him for days revisiting him, pushing him further into despair.
He was back in the cave, the smell of the animals heavy in his nostrils.
Hungry, so hungry.
Darkness streaked with light, sound bursting in waves, sharp stabs of pleasure.
He fed, licking the blood, tongue searching out the marrow, chewing the still warm flesh, while they took their turn with him, sucking him dry.
Hungry, still so hungry.
His need consumed him, and he tore the shreds of olive green material from the chunk of meat with his teeth.
Tongues lapped at him, as he ate and flew, rejoicing.
**********
Jack stared at the unpleasant gloop currently hanging off his spoon, dripping downwards in an obvious effort to escape its fate.
He could do this. He had to.
He opened his mouth, lifted the utensil, and took a bite.
Ugh. It didn’t taste any better than it looked – sort of like mud - mud from a Bolivian jungle. Nothing like that mud in Russia, nope. Or the mud he had been forced to swallow on PC7-69H. He grimaced, considering how sad it was that he was a connoisseur of the taste of mud.
The Doc had informed him this particular mud was actually a protein enriched concoction guaranteed to help him regain weight and get him back on his overly shaky feet. Jack was sure she lied. It was punishment for his behaviour.
He swallowed another small mouthful down, mindful of the nurse’s watchful eyes.
He could do this. He had to.
Already he felt the hard, tight awkwardness of unused muscles whenever he tried to flex his left arm. The physiotherapist visited him twice a day, giving him simple exercises, but he needed to be up on his feet with the strength to push himself to his limits. He needed to get back to duty. Lying here in a hospital bed, he had too much time to think.
He didn’t want to think.
His stomach clenched, and he gulped, feeling the tiny amount he had swallowed moving back up.
“Sir?” The nurse was holding out a bowl, but he shook his head, and after a moment, took another mouthful.
*********
“Are we disturbing you?’ Teal’c hesitated in the doorway of his commander’s room, but Daniel Jackson had no such qualms, pushing past.
O’Neill placed a bookmark between the pages of the paperback and put it down on the bed beside him, smiling.
“Hi, guys. What’re you up to?” Teal’c was pleased to note the familiar joking tone was back.
“Well d’uh, Jack! We’re visiting you.” Daniel Jackson gave an answering smile, sitting on the end of the bed. “We thought we’d come and see if you wanted to go for a little spin around the SGC.”
“Can’t, Daniel. I’m…” O’Neill lifted his right arm in the air, twiddling his fingers in the gesture Teal’c knew denoted quotation marks. “… ‘confined’ to bed by order of the Doc.”
“I’ve signed a release, Colonel.” Doctor Fraiser stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her white coat. For a Tau’ri unfamiliar with combat, she moved remarkably silently. “You’ve been granted parole for good behaviour.”
“You mean for eating all my food like a good little boy?”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Teal’c and certainly not on the Doctor. Her pleasant smile became fixed as she nodded. “If you want to put it like that, sir.”
“Does this mean I can start physio?” The eagerness was obvious.
The Doctor’s tone softened, and she stepped up to the bed as she replied. “Let’s take it one step at a time, sir. You’re still weak. Give it another couple of days, and if you continue to improve we’ll talk about it then, all right?”
“Fair enough.”
The whole room seemed to breath a sign of relief at the softly spoken words.
“Then let’s get this show on the road.” Daniel Jackson stood as the Doctor pushed a wheelchair forward. Teal’c moved into position next to the bed and watched carefully, ready to offer his support.
He could see the strain on O’Neill’s face as he struggled to manoeuvre himself. He took the other man’s arm in a firm grip, ignoring the sensation of the hairs on his arms moving as they touched the already sweaty skin. O’Neill needed his help, and he was there to give it, as always.
He felt pride as O’Neill grunted his thanks and accepted his assistance, moving his far too thin frame into the chair. This was still the man he had pledged his service to, a man who would push himself to the limits. An honourable man brought low through no fault of his own.
Teal’c pressed the bony arm beneath his grip, passing his own strength to his friend.
**********
Jack acknowledged the greetings of the personnel they passed in the corridors, just happy to be out of the infirmary, if only for a short time. He had been cooped up far too long. He needed some fresh air.
“How about we take a trip to the surface?” He already knew the answer, but it was worth a try.
“Sorry, Jack, no can do. We’re under strict instructions to go no further than Sam’s lab.”
“Carter’s lab. Sweet!”
Good. A chance to play with some doohickies, tease Carter a little. No fresh air, but fun none the less. He pointed imperiously, enjoying the sound of Daniel’s laugh as he spoke. “Onwards, James.”
They were almost there when the moment he had been dreading occurred.
“Jack! Good to see you up and around.”
Daniel halted the wheelchair, and Jack found himself staring up into the face of Colonel Johnson of SG-10.
“Tom. I was hoping to see you.” The lie came easily. “I wanted to thank you. I was sorry to hear about Sergeant Deol. He was a good man.”
Johnson inclined his head in a move reminiscent of Teal’c. “Yes, he was.”
“I would have liked to be at the memorial service, but…” Images raced through his head, and he stopped.
God, not now! Not here in the corridor for all to see. He wouldn’t lose it now.
“Jack? Is there something wrong?” Johnson was peering into his face, his nose a few short inches from his own.
Jack forced a smile out. “I’m just a bit tired, Tom.”
He could have kissed Daniel when he interrupted. “We better get on, Colonel. I promised Doctor Fraiser we’d have Jack back in an hour.”
Johnson backed off, his concerned look fading somewhat. “I have to meet with General Hammond in a few minutes anyway. Good to see you up and around, Jack.” With another nod, he walked away, heading for the elevators.
The wheelchair moved as Daniel began pushing it again. Jack sat back, his pulse still racing.
Jack had not known anyone had died trying to rescue him until he read the mission report. The fact that the popular young sergeant had lost his life trying to save his had come as a shock, but it wasn’t his death that filled Jack’s sleep with horror. Even now, so many days later, he could barely look at himself in the mirror, knowing what he had done. Intellectually Jack knew it wasn’t his fault. Even if he had been in any condition to recognise the lumps of meat for what they were, he had no choice. If he hadn’t eaten he would have died. But he hadn’t known, hadn’t understood. He had been drugged, totally unable to comprehend his breaking of one of the most basic taboos.
His actions would haunt him, joining others also hidden from sight. Locked down tight. What was done was done. He would get over it.
“Colonel! This is a surprise.” Carter’s cheerful greeting pulled him from his thoughts. The Major was wiping greasy hands on a towel, her hair standing up in clumps. A pile of machinery filled the low table in the centre of her lab, and Jack motioned Daniel to push him up to it.
“What’s this, Carter?’ He snaked his hand out, grabbing a bright yellow glowy thing he immediately recognised as part of a biogenic diprobe.
Carter yanked it from his grip, placing it carefully back on the table. “That’s what I’m trying to work out, sir.”
And so their game began, played to familiar rules.
**********
The salad sat on the table, bread on a plate next to it. Cool beer waited. The grill was ready. His team bustled around, organising, fussing over him.
Jack basked in the feeling of the sun on his face, and grinning, accepted the bottle Daniel handed to him, the fingers of his left hand gripping it, the condensation cold on his skin.
His arm was getting stronger everyday and the Doc was cautiously optimistic. Jack wasn’t just optimistic, he was certain. He still had a long way to go before he was ready to return to duty, but return he would.
He was beginning to doze, truly relaxed for the first time in weeks, when Daniel called out to him.
“How do you want your steak, Jack? Medium rare?”
He took a long swallow of beer before he answered, clearing his suddenly congested throat.
“Don’t cook any for me, Daniel. I’m not very hungry. I think I’ll just have salad.”
The End