Jack waited for the Doc to leave the room before allowing himself to really think about what she had said. It hadn’t come as a complete surprise; he had been mentally preparing himself for news like this since he returned to the SGC.
He knew that he only had two options – wallow in self pity, or cope with it, if and when it happened. After all the things that had happened to him over the last years, he knew that nothing was set in stone, and he had had enough of self pity back on the planet. There was only one way to deal with this.
As the door to his room opened, Jack formed as much of a smile on his lips as he could.
*********************
The room was quiet when Jack woke up from the anesthetic. He felt remarkably alert considering the pain medication that he knew must have been administered. The tube was down his throat, helping him to breathe, but he had expected that. The Doc had explained that it would be at least three days before it could be removed.
He lay waiting, half fearing the answer, but desperately needing to know. Would he be able to speak?
His team had been stunned by the news. He had tried to convey to them that he would be glad to get back his ability to breathe and eat, but the limitations of having to write everything down hampered him. He had known what he wanted to say, and not being able to say it was very frustrating. In the end he stopped attempting to explain, and let himself drift off to sleep, the stress of the last days having exhausted him. The last thing that he remembered had been the sounds of his friends quietly leaving, whispered farewells lingering in the air.
“Colonel O’Neill.” Jack recognised the voice as Doctor Hamilton’s. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting a little against the bright lights. Janet was standing next to the specialist, her eyes fixed on his. He knew what they were going to say before they spoke. Confirmation that the damage to his vocal cords was too severe to repair. He had run out of reactions, nodding, smiling, shutting his eyes – he had used them all in the past days, so he just kept his eyes open and stared straight at them, willing them to leave before he lost it completely.
*********************
There was no paperwork in Jack O’Neill’s office. There was no mess in Jack O’Neill’s office. The only thing left in Jack O’Neill’s office was Jack O’Neill.
It wasn’t that he was hiding out, it was just that there were only so many things that he could do. He could sit in on briefings, but by the time that he managed to write a comment down, the moment had passed and it had become irrelevant. He could work out in the gym, trying to regain his strength, but the morbid fascination attracted by the huge scar on his neck, made even worse by the operation, had quickly become grating. He couldn’t go off world. Couldn’t even enjoy a meal – he may be able to eat properly again, but it was a painful and slow process, making him take small frequent snacks of soft, easy on the throat food. He was beginning to hate the sight of jello.
So, here he was, in his office.
It had been two weeks since he had been released from the infirmary. He had refused to go and vegetate at home while his fate was being decided. He didn’t feel sick.
His debriefing had taken longer than the whole incident. In the end he had been allowed to type up a report, which the General had read over. It had been brief and to the point. He had died. He had been revived. He had escaped with the help of a Jaffa. He had found his team unconscious. He had hidden them. They had woken. They had escaped.
He knew what would happen if he told Hammond about the grave. He would never get out of MacKenzie’s clutches. As it was, he had been made to endure two sessions with the psychiatrist, made even more annoying by having to write his answers down. He didn’t know who was more pleased to be done, the doctor or himself.
So now he was marking time, feeling useless, waiting to learn his fate.
Medical retirement. There really wasn’t anything else. All attempts to contact their allies had failed, the healing device had proved worse than useless – the only result being pain that lasted for hours. Carter had theorised that it hadn’t worked because the initial healing had been begun by a sarcophagus; perhaps some sort of fail save designed to stop torture victims from being cured. No one knew for sure, the only certainty was that it hadn’t worked.
So he had gotten on with life. At least he wasn’t sprouting weird languages like he had when he had the Ancient’s download in his brain. This time he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t say it.
Somehow sarcasm just came out as rudeness when it was typed on a screen. His humour was all in the voice, the delivery. Every conversation had become a task to be avoided.
So, here he was, in his office.
Feeling sorry for himself.
Crap! He had promised himself not to let this happen. Back in that cell when he had thought that his team was dead he had taken charge of his fate again and decided to live. He hadn’t given in and he wouldn’t now.
Jack strode out of his office, determined to find something productive to do.
*********************
It had taken some persuasion on his part, but finally the General found him a job. A new instructor had been appointed to oversee the cadet training and Hammond had asked Jack to observe his methods. That was it - observe. See how things were going. Nothing more. The General had emphasised that, and had sighed as the Colonel had left, looking happier than he had in weeks.
Jack smiled as he drove, looking forward to getting some fresh air and being useful at the same time. He didn’t know the Sergeant in charge of training very well, only that he was an ex-member of SG-10. Normally Jack would have had some input into his appointment, but he had been in the infirmary when the position had come up. He was looking forward to seeing Sergent Perry at work, his record showed extensive combat experience, and only a serious leg injury that had left him with a permanent limp had stopped him from continuing to be a part of the off world teams.
Jack handed his ID to the guard on the gate, and pulled in to the parking area of the training facility. He could already see the small group of cadets clustered around the sandy haired sergeant, watching as he demonstrated a staff weapon. He must have just started this part of the training, as four or five weapons were sitting propped up against the fence behind the young airmen.
“The staff weapon can be used in several ways.” Perry was demonstrating basic moves to the clearly unimpressed group. He swung it several times in the air, using it as if it were a club. “It is a formidable weapon in the hands of an experienced warrior.”
“So is a hammer, and a lot easier to carry.” The muttered words were clear from where Jack stood. One of the cadets, a skinny olive skinned young man leaned towards his shorter companion and sniggered.
“I can’t see that we’d have any trouble with these Jaffa people if this is the best weapon that they have,” his friend answered, keeping his voice low. “Just blast them with a P90 and see how far they get.”
Jack saw the Sergeant become aware of his presence as he looked over to locate the source of the whispering. He gave the trainer a quick shake of his head, and received an almost unperceivable nod in return, the two experienced soldiers communicating easily without words.
The two cadets still hadn’t noticed that they were being watched. Jack quietly took a staff weapon from the pile and stepped forward. With one fluid motion he bent and swept the feet out from under both the men, following through with a swift jab to the stomach of the shorter one, leaving him down in the dirt. He ended the move with one foot on the other’s chest and the base of the weapon pointed at his head.
He took a second to mentally congratulate himself, all those lessons with Teal’c and Bra’tac at the Alpha site had paid off.
“What the hell?!” The olive skinned cadet glowered at the man standing over him. Jack could feel his anger growing as he realised that his classmates were all staring in stunned amazement at the confrontation. The young man’s face began to redden in humiliation.
He stepped back, letting the cadet come to his feet, and waited.
For a moment he thought that the man was going to use his brains instead of letting his anger take control, however he was disappointed. The cadet took a pace forward, his aggression plain. Jack spun the staff weapon, turning it so that its head was facing the man’s body and twisted the mechanism, opening it. The sight of the glowing tip stopped the man in his tracks. The Colonel spun on his heels again, and fired three blasts in rapid succession, each taking a large chunk out of the nearby targets.
He turned back, the deactivated weapon at his side once again looking as harmless as a piece of wood.
There was no sound except for the agitated breathing of the cadet in front of him.
“I think that Colonel O’Neill has just demonstrated my point. The staff weapon can be deadly in the right hands.” Sergeant Perry’s calm voice broke the silence.
“Sir!” The young man snapped to attention. “I’m sorry, Colonel.”
Jack saw the fear in the young man’s face, the realisation dawning that he had almost struck a superior officer. It was a sobering lesson for all the cadets, and one that they had to learn. The ability to think clearly even in the heat of battle might someday save their lives.
There was more than one sobering lesson that these young soldiers could learn today.
He ignored the worried cadet, and moved forward through them to join Perry at the front of the class.
“Colonel O’Neill.” As the sergeant’s eyes flickered to his open collar, Jack pulled the prewritten note from his pocket, waiting while Perry read it. He had known that he couldn’t just sit and observe, despite the General’s intentions, and he had come prepared.
Perry gave him a long look as he finished reading, and then snapped out a command.
“Attention!”
He waited as his class straightened up, before continuing.
“This is Colonel O’Neill. He is second in charge of the SGC.” Jack could feel all the eyes twist towards him, evaluating, “He has asked me to explain why he cannot speak to you himself. Several weeks ago he was captured by the Jaffa that you are training to fight. They cut his throat.“ Jack pulled his shirt collar open, exposing the still livid thick line of raised scar tissue. There were several gasps. “This is the sort of enemy that you will encounter if you posted to the SGC. This is the sort of danger that you may face. If you are not prepared to face such danger then you should speak up now.” Perry waited for a few beats, then continued once more. “That being the case, I now expect your full attention for the rest of the day. Colonel O’Neill will be observing the class, and will be evaluating your performance.”
Sergeant Perry finished speaking and turned to face Jack. He snapped off a textbook salute. Jack returned it, moved to one side, and finding a comfortable spot to sit, settled in to watch.
The training proceeded smoothly, the cadets giving their instructor their full attention. It was a hot and sweaty group that stopped for lunch, taking the food from the supplies brought to them from the main building. Jack looked at it in disgust, it seemed that indigestible mess hall food followed him everywhere. He regretted not bring his own supplies from the SGC.
Jack was happy with the progress of the training session. The class had thrown themselves into the lessons with renewed vigour, sideways glances at where he was sitting showing that they hadn’t forgotten his presence. They may have been trying to impress, but all that Jack cared about was the end result, the method used to achieve it was unimportant.
“Colonel O’Neill, can I get you anything? Coffee?” Sergeant Perry joined him, carrying two folding chairs. “Here, sir. I figured that we were too old to sit on the ground and eat unless we have to. May as well be comfortable. Now, can I get you that coffee?”
Jack accepted his offer with a smile, and the two older men were soon sitting, watching the class eat.
Jack sipped the hot coffee cautiously; he still had to be very careful not to burn his still tender throat. Perry sat silently beside him.
*********************
Tom Perry took another bit of his sandwich, barely noticing the taste as he swallowed. One of the cadets, Nugyen if he remembered correctly, had brought the tray of sandwiches over and he had taken one gratefully, not realising how hungry he was until the food was in front of him. He noticed that Colonel O’Neill wasn’t eating; he was taking slow sips of his coffee, and looking over at the youngsters, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Perry watched as the Colonel raised his hand to rub his neck, the terrible injury exposed as the collar of his shirt was pulled down. He understood how that felt – the pull of scarring on the skin. He found himself massaging his own knee in sympathy, the memory of the staff weapon blast still vivid in his mind.
The realization that despite the difference in rank, he did have a lot in common with the Colonel caused him to speak.
“What are your plans now, sir? Now that you are off the active duty roster perhaps you might consider coming down here on a regular basis. I could certainly use the help. The cadets obviously took your lesson to heart. I think that it helps to focus them when they see the reality of what they are training for rather than just being told. We still have a lot to offer, even if we can’t go off world.” He paused, remembering the weeks just after his injury, when he was sure that his career in the military had been cut short. “I know I wouldn’t have been able to retire, and just sit around after the things that I’ve seen, knowing what is really going on out there. At least by doing this I’m still a part of it.” With a start he realised what he had just said. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to imply that taking medical retirement was the wrong thing to do, if that’s what you’re planning. I just mean that it wouldn’t have worked for me.”
He hadn’t really been looking at the other man as he spoke, so he was surprised when the Colonel abruptly stood, putting his coffee cup on the ground next to his chair. He stood as well, bringing his eyes level with the Colonel’s. For one brief moment he caught a glimpse of coldness and pain, the echoes of a past that he didn’t even want to contemplate, then the shutters came down, and his face became an unemotional mask.
Colonel O’Neill raised his hand as if he were about to speak, then shut his mouth with a sigh, and gave a nod of farewell. As he walked to his car, Perry couldn’t help thinking about what he had seen it those few seconds, the soldier behind the face of the officer, a soldier that he wouldn’t ever want to meet on the battlefield. Not the face of someone who would take retirement gracefully and slide away into obscurity without a fight.
He hoped for the Colonel’s sake that things would work out; he would hate to imagine what would happen otherwise. The coldness in the Colonel’s eyes seemed to settle around him, and he shuddered, before turning back to his watching class.
*********************
Jack sat in his truck, mind in turmoil. He knew that he shouldn’t have left like that, but the Sergeant’s words had affected him badly. The image of himself as a washed up old man, sitting on his balcony, waiting for the occasional call to come out and help train the kids, had shocked him to the core.
Was that his future? Sure, he couldn’t deny that Perry did a valuable job, from what he had seen the man was an excellent instructor, but he couldn’t be a part of that. Without speech all he could teach were the movements, he needed to be able to explain, tell those young people how important it was to be ready, talk to them.
Talk to them.
He had to face reality. This little excursion had been a wakeup call.
He leaned forward and put the key into the ignition, and grimaced in frustration when his cell phone beeped. He pulled it roughly from his pocket, reading the text message on its small screen.
What now? What could be so important that he had to return to the mountain immediately? What could they possibly want with him?
With his mind still lost in the silence, Jack O’Neill headed back to the SGC.
**********************
He hurried through the check ins, barely acknowledging the greetings of the guards. He knew that whatever the General wanted, it must be important, but he couldn’t help feeling annoyed. The last thing he wanted to do right now was see people, he wanted to be alone for a while, think things over. Revaluate.
He reached Hammond’s office, thankful to find the General alone.
“I’m sorry that I had to call you away, Jack, but something’s come up.” The General launched into an explanation as soon as he had entered, gesturing him to close the door, and waving him to a seat. “We had a call from the Asgard while you were gone.”
Jack felt a sudden surge of hope. Asgard technology had helped him before, their medicine was far ahead of Earth’s.
“Wait, son.” Hammond must have seen the look on his face, because he hurried on, his voice sympathetic. “They weren’t responding to our request for help, it didn’t even seem as if they had received it. They want your help. The message was short, but it seems that they want you, and only you. I tried to respond, but it seemed to be a pre-recorded message. They said that you should be ready,” he glanced at his watch “in twenty minutes.”
Jack grabbed a pen from the desk and wrote on the waiting pad.
What possible use could I be?
He threw the pen down angrily, and gestured at his throat, not caring that his emotions had surfaced for the first time since he had returned to Earth. Not caring for once that Hammond could see exactly how he felt.
“I don’t know the answer to that question, Jack, but I do know that this is the best chance that you have. Now you better go get ready, we don’t really have a choice.”
Jack acknowledged the order with a nod, and headed for the locker room to change, collecting his weapons on the way. He had no idea what he was going into, but he was going to be prepared for any eventuality.
“Jack, we just heard.” Jack looked up to find Daniel and Teal’c. He would bet anything that Carter was waiting in the corridor, only the fact that he was changing stopping her from entering. “What do they want?”
He frowned at Daniel’s question and shrugged, frustrated again by his friend’s questions. Questions that he knew he couldn’t answer. He just wanted to be out of there. Away from the sympathy and the pity. Away from well meaning friends.
He straightened up and began putting on his weapons, his face blank. Finally he slung his P90 over his arm and looked at his watch – only a minute or so to go.
“Is there some way that we may accompany you, O’Neill?” Teal’c’s concern was clear. “Perhaps we can contact the Asgard and request that we be allowed to come?”
“Colonel?” Carter’s head appeared around the door, and seeing that the coast was clear, she stepped inside.
The tingling sensation told Jack that the time for talking had passed. He raised his hand in farewell.
*********************
“Colonel O’Neill, thank you for agreeing to come.”
Jack glared at the small figure in front of him, trying to convey without words just what he thought of the Asgard methods.
“I will take you to Commander Thor.”
Jack felt his mood lighten considerably as he followed the alien through the ship’s corridors. Thor owed him, plus he was a friend. Jack knew not to count on anything, but he couldn’t help himself hoping.
The grey metal doors slid open and Jack found himself in a large room, set out with tables and chairs as if for a meeting. Thor stood at the head of the table.
“Colonel O’Neill, it is good to see you once again. I apologise for bringing you here with so little warning but the matter was urgent. May I present to you Rast’ur of the Goa’uld.”
Jack turned slowly, his mind going into overdrive. The white robed figure stood on Thor’s right, just out of his reach, a look of shock on his face. Yeas’r’s expression mirrored his master’s.
“The Colonel and I are already acquainted, Commander Thor. When he was my guest I had no idea that I had captured such a valuable prize.” The Goa’uld spoke slowly as if weighing his words. “I must admit to being surprised to see him here. However, I don’t think that he will be much use to you in these negotiations. I think that you will find that the good Colonel has been left with a permanent souvenir from his visit.” Although Rast’ur only allowed a small smile to briefly cross his lips, his First Prime had no such compunction. His laugh was deep and full of malice.
“O’Neill?”
Jack tugged his collar open, exposing the scar, refusing to be baited.
“I do not understand.” Thor’s voice was puzzled.
“I had better explain then, Commander. I had Yeas’r cut the Colonel’s throat. He won’t be doing much talking in the near future, if ever.”
Jack couldn’t tell how Thor took the news, except for a slow blink of his large eyes his expression didn’t change. “If that is the case, then I must delay these talks for a short while. You will remain here.” He turned to Jack. “Colonel O’Neill, if you would accompany me?” Giving the Goa’uld no time to protest, he left the room, taking Jack with him.
They walked back the way that Jack had come when he arrived on the ship. Thor stopped in a side room and turned to face him, putting a thin, bony hand on Jack’s arm.
“Do not worry, I will have my medics examine you. Although I cannot guarantee anything, we will do our best to repair the damage.” Jack’s joy was cut short by his next words. “However that will have to wait until after these negotiations, but do not worry, I have arranged for help.”
Three flashes lit up the small room and the remaining members of SG-1 stood blinking in confusion in front of them.
Shit! Jack was glad that he couldn’t speak because the words that he was thinking would severely damage their relations with the Asgard if he spoke them aloud.
“Commander Thor, what’s going on?” Carter looked around her worriedly.
“I apologise for bringing you to my ship without warning, Major Carter, but I was unaware that Colonel O’Neill had been injured. We have been asked to negotiate with a minor system lord to allow one of the planets within his sphere of influence protected planet status. The natives of that planet asked to have Colonel O’Neill negotiate on their behalf, apparently you had contact with them several months ago.” As he spoke Thor began leading them back towards the meeting room. “I am sure that they will understand that Colonel O’Neill can not attend these talks alone under the circumstances.”
Jack could see the door of the meeting room just ahead. His mind was blank as he began to panic, his heart racing. With a lunge he stepped in front of the party, putting his arm out to stop them entering.
“Jack? What’s wrong?”
Daniel – always with the questions that he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know what to do, couldn’t think how to stop them.
“O’Neill, is there some reason that you do not wish us to meet with this Goa’uld?”
Jack could only nod in answer to Teal’c’s question, hoping that it was enough. It wasn’t.
“I am sorry, O’Neill, but if we do not return to the negotiations the Goa’uld will leave. We must do what we can to bring this planet into our treaty, for the sake of its inhabitants.” Thor eyed him, patiently waiting for him to step aside. “Whatever issue you have with this Goa’uld must wait until after the meeting is finished.”
He had no choice. He brought his arm down, and took as deep a breath as he could manage. With a nod, he moved to one side, allowing Thor to precede him, knowing that he could do nothing to prevent what was to come.
Rast’ur had moved to one of the seats near the door, his First Prime standing behind him. The Goa’uld didn’t rise as they entered, he keep his face impassive and leaned forward.
Daniel came to an abrupt halt as he recognised the waiting man. The only sign of recognition Sam gave was a small gasp. As Jack had expected, Teal’c allowed nothing of his surprise to show.
“It appears that Colonel O’Neill wasn’t the only one to be brought back from the dead. I image that he managed to dig you up before the stasis field dissipated.” The Goa’uld’s cold voice held only a note of curiosity. “This is very interesting. You were in no condition to unbury your friends without help, Colonel. I wonder which of my Jaffa is the traitor.”
Jack managed to keep his face impassive. He could feel the stares of his team on him, see the shock in their faces without needing to look. There was nothing that he could do now except keep Rast’ur here until he was able to warn Un’tak. He walked to the side of the table opposite the Goa’uld and slowly and deliberately, took his seat, never taking his eyes from those of the other man.
Taking their cue for their leader, SG-1 followed, taking seats flanking him and reached for the information pads provided.
********************
“Colonel O’Neill.” The Asgard’s voice roused Jack from his daze. He looked up, his eyes unfocused to find everyone in the room looked at him, his team with concern, the Goa’uld and his Jaffa with amusement. “Are you unwell?”
“The Colonel is still not completely recovered from the operation carried out to reverse some of the effects of his injury.” Teal’c’s deep voice answered on Jack’s behalf. “If you would provide him with somewhere to rest, I will escort him.”
“Certainly, Teal’c.” Thor peered up at Jack, concerned. “I will have my medics examine him.”
“I must protest, Commander.” Rast’ur stood up angrily. “These talks have gone on long enough, I will not condone any more delays.”
“Then I suggest that you carry on without the Colonel.” Thor cut across the Goa’uld’s protests. “It is clear that Colonel O’Neill is unwell.”
“Jack, do you need to see Janet?”
Jack shook his head in answer to Daniel’s question. He reeled sideways as he stood, only Teal’c’s firm grip preventing him from falling back into his seat.
“Sir, are you sure?” asked Carter, worried.
He nodded his head emphatically and gave her a tight smile. Following Thor, he slowly negotiated his way out of the room, helped by Teal’c. When he reached the door, he looked back to see Daniel and Carter still watching him, their faces lined with concern.
He waited until they had turned the corner of the corridor before straightening up and pulling his arm from Teal’c’s grip. The Jaffa released him, his only reaction a raised eyebrow. Jack pulled out a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and quickly wrote a short message, before handing it to Teal’c.
We must warn Un’tak, the Jaffa that helped me.
“Indeed. I do not however know how we can accomplish this, O’Neill. We do not know the location of Rast’ur’s home world.”
“I do, O’Neill, and I would be only too happy to transport Teal’c down to a safe location. The Asgard have been keeping Rast’ur under observation for some time, since he began spreading out into territory nearer to several of our protected planets. His ambition has greatly concerned us.”
Jack gave a relieved smile at Thor’s words. Not all of his fatigue had been feigned, the stress of the day was finally catching up on him.
“O’Neill, although I guessed that you had an ulterior motive for you wanting to leave the meeting, I can see that you are not well. Perhaps it would be best if Commander Thor had his medics look you over.” Teal’c asked, concerned.
He realised that he was rubbing the bridge of his nose, a headache hovering in the back of his head, his neck throbbing. In fact, he was starting to feel decidedly queasy; all that soft mush food must be catching up with him. He lowered his hand to his mouth and swayed, finding himself leaning against the Jaffa’s strong body.
“Teal’c, please follow me. We will take Colonel O’Neill to my medical facility.” Thor’s tone allowed for no argument.
********************
Jack lay back and felt his body sink into the soft substance covering the bed. There wasn’t anything else to do. To his disgust, Teal’c had just dumped him there and then left with Thor, merely stating that he “would warn Un’tak and return as quickly as possible.” He made it sound like a walk in the park, a pleasant jaunt to get some fresh air. He had been here ever since. Not knowing what that damned snakehead was saying to Carter and Daniel, not knowing what was happening to Teal’c, not knowing where Thor was, not doing anything except lay there.
Totally useless.
The only interaction he had with the Asgard medics that were constantly coming in and out of the room, had been when one of then pressed something into his neck a short time ago, and admonished him when he tried to feel what it was. Now the area around the scar was feeling heavy and numb, which was an improvement on the constant dull throbbing that he had experienced for weeks now, and that had intensified over the last few hours into sharp pain.
Jack shifted restlessly. He couldn’t even relax, there were bright lights playing over his body, lights, which constantly changed in colour and intensity. At the moment a blue beam was concentrated on his face, making it hard to do anything except close his eyes. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just a slightly warm glow on his skin.
Now, if only he could relax.
******************
His eyes felt heavy and his mouth tasted of blood and bad breath. Jack stayed still and took stock. Apart from a soft pounding in his head, he felt remarkably fine. He must have fallen asleep after all.
Crap! What about Teal’c? What about the meeting? Just how long had he been asleep?
He forced his eyes to open, rubbing them hard to clear the blurriness, and looked around. He was still in the Asgard infirmary, still laying on the bed. The only thing different was that he was naked and covered by only a thin blanket.
“Colonel O’Neill.” An Asgard leaned over him, peering intently into his face. “Please stay still for a while longer, I must run some more tests.” He then picked up a small metallic object from the tray beside the bed.
“Oh for cryin’out loud!” Jack reeled back as the instrument shone a beam of light straight into his eyes. “What is it with you doctors…” He stopped.
Stunned.
Speechless.
“Please do not attempt to speak again until I have completed my tests.” The Asgard sounded annoyed. “It has taken much work to repair the injury and I do not want it to be damaged again.”
Jack nodded and lay back, feeling just a little frightened. While the beams of light were once again passed over his body he stayed as still as possible, not wanting to jeopardise anything by doing the wrong thing. For once in his life he was going to obey orders. Janet would have been so proud of him. That little alien could shine all the lights in his eyes that he wanted to, and Jack wasn’t going to say a word in protest. He was just going to stay quiet.
Because it was his choice to stay quiet.
Not because he couldn’t speak, but because he choose not to.
So Jack just lay on the bed and waited.
It seemed like hours, but it was probably only about 40 minutes before the medic spoke again.
“You can get up now. Here are your clothes. After you have dressed I would ask you to drink this” He handed the Colonel a beaker of green liquid. “It will clear your throat of the medications we administered, then you can speak.”
Jack put his clothes on, uncaring that he was being watched by the Asgard. He picked up the glass and swallowed the bitter tasting green drink in three quick gulps, then stood, glass in hand. This was an occasion. He should have something profound to say.
“Sweet!” With a laugh he pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
“I take it that you are pleased to have the use of your voice back, O’Neill.”
Jack spun, surprised that Thor could have approached so close without him hearing. With a whoop he grabbed the small figure and gave him a fierce hug.
“Thor buddy! Pleased is not the word. I don’t think that even ecstatic covers it. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“There is no need for thanks, O’Neill. I could do no less.” Thor almost sounded embarrassed. “The Asgard remember their friends, O’Neill.”
Jack looked down into Thor’s large eyes, and spoke quietly. “Thank you, Thor. Thank you for your friendship.” He stretched his hand out and, after a slight hesitation, Thor took it.
*********************
Sam and Daniel had endured hours of posturing and boasting from the arrogant Goa’uld. They had expected Teal’c to return with news of the Colonel, and were very concerned that he hadn’t. They tried to focus their attention on the details of the treaty, but their eyes kept wandering towards the door, waiting for it to open. Every so often one would catch the other’s worried glace and would smile reassuringly.
Thor had re-entered the meeting only a short time after leaving it, but had ignored any attempts to find out how the Colonel was.
The treaty was almost completed when Thor was called from the meeting again. Rast’ur was almost beside himself with rage. Already angered by the Asgard agreeing with the natives’ request to include their world in the Protected Planet Treaty, he had been trying to win as many concessions as possible in recompense.
Rast’ur’s anger showed in the glow of his eyes as the Asgard left the meeting. Turning to the two humans, he looked them up and down as if inspecting every inch of them.
“I remember watching your Colonel as he dug your grave. The insects had landed on your lovely face, and he could not keep them off and dig at the same time.” He smiled at Sam. “Every time he stopped to scare them away, one of my Jaffa ‘persuaded’ him to keep digging. He did not take much persuasion. Soon the insects clustered over your mouth and eyes. Did you know that your eyes were open? Such pretty blue eyes.”
Sam felt Daniel’s hand grip hers under the table. She squeezed back, trying her hardest to show that the Goa’uld’s words were not upsetting her.
“There is no nacquadah on the planet,” Daniel’s firm tone cut across the resonant one of the Goa’uld, “so I don’t see that we need to spend any more time on discussion of recompense for mineral rights.”
Sam threw Daniel a grateful glance smile and the negotiations continued, but they couldn’t help thinking about the Goa’uld’s words. In the forefront of their minds was the knowledge that the Colonel had kept this from them, that he had coped with the memories alone.
To Sam’s horror, Rast’ur hadn’t finished.
“Your Colonel had trouble getting you all in the hole, you know. He had given up and made it too small. It wasn’t a very good job at all really. Not the sort of grave that I expected him to dig for his friends. It was as if he just wanted to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. He was a bit more enthusiastic about covering you all up. Do you still taste the dirt in your mouth?”
********************
Teal’c returned from Rast’ur’s home world very satisfied with himself. He had been able to avoid the few Jaffa patrols that he had seen and had made contact with Un’tak without any trouble. The warrior had packed his belongings, and with his family and a few other dissatisfied friends, had left with Teal’c through the gate for the Alpha site, happy to finally be free of the Goa’uld. Teal’c knew that he would make a valuable addition to the rebel army.
He had been beamed up to Thor’s ship within a few short hours of having left and now was happy to find Colonel O’Neill restored to full health. He had watched his leader fighting to take control of his life, struggling to find his sense of worth. He had wondered at the tenacity of the man. He had shown no sign of giving in despite the odds being stacked against him, but Teal’c had expected nothing less from his friend. His admiration had grown as he realised the secret that O’Neill had kept hidden from them – that he had thought them dead.
He could hardly bear to imagine what it must have been like.
Now as he approached the entrance to the meeting room with O’Neill and Thor, he could hear the voice of the Goa’uld clearly through the door. One glance at the thunderous look on O’Neill’s face told him that he too could hear every word.
“Do you still taste the dirt in your mouth?”
Teal’c had never seen O’Neill move as fast as he did in that moment.
********************
Jack burst through the door, slamming aside the chairs in his way and vaulting the table. All he could see through the haze of rage was the sneering face of the Goa’uld that had almost taken everything from him. Time slowed and pressed itself into a tiny bubble, and left him alone with Rast’ur, isolated from the rest of the world. It gave him time to remember the long hours spent in the hot sun, unable to even cry out his anguish. To remember the blows whenever he paused for breath. To remember being pushed to fall across the lifeless bodies of his friends as the Goa’uld laughed. To have to watch as he stroked his fingers down Sam’s cheek. He remembered despairing. He remembered being thankful that he would join his team in death.
He remembered wanting to die.
And he remembered the promise that he had made to himself.
Jack reached through the cloud around him, and pulled the snake forward into his arms. His movements were instinctive, the result of long hours of training and practice, and of experience. The crack was loud in the silence.
And time snapped back.
Teal’c dropped Yeas’r’s body beside his master’s, and the two warriors looked into each other’s eyes, each acknowledging the other’s skill.
“It appears that the negotiations have been concluded successfully, Colonel O’Neill.” Thor looked calmly down at the bodies. “I will have someone clean the room.”
Jack wiped his hands down the side of his trouser legs. He turned towards Sam and Daniel, almost afraid of what he would find.
“I think that it’s time to go home, kids. The Asgard can take out the trash.”
He was rewarded with two dazzling smiles.
********************
General Hammond jumped as the four figures materialised, without fanfare, in the middle of the control room.
“I’m baaaaccccckkkk!”
The General groaned loudly as he took in the grinning face of Colonel Jack O’Neill.
“I’d just gotten use to the peace and quiet.” He strode forward and gripped the Colonel’s hand in his. “It’s good to have you back, son.”
Jack shook Hammond’s hand firmly. Sam’s eyes were suspiciously moist, and Daniel looked like he had just won the lottery. Only Teal’c appeared detached from the general excitement that had swept the room when Jack had spoken. The two warrior’s eyes met for the second time that day, and once again Jack nodded in acknowledgement of the Jaffa’s unspoken words.
There were things that needed to be said. Secrets that needed to be spoken. Nightmares that needed to be put to rest.
Jack turned back to the General.
“Sir, I think that SG-1 has a debriefing to attend.”