//Jack//
Ok, It's official. We so have a problem. Backed into a corner on a remote planet in a galaxy far, far away.
Well, when I say corner it's a forest really. A thick green, tree filled forest and there isn't a real corner in sight.
And of course saying that this is a galaxy far, far away sounds a bit too much like that Star Wars movie that Teal'c finally got me to watch, and seeing as we're here I don't suppose that it is very far away anymore.
I think I've lost the point.
We have a problem.
SG1 is on recon with P4A - something - something - something, and, as is our specialty, we have found some rather unfriendly natives.
I don't know what sort of weapons they're fighting with but I think that if we got our hands on them then the Goa'uld would have something to worry about.
Carter, Jonas and myself are all out of ammo, meaning that Teal'c is the only one able to defend us now.
"Sir." Carter interrupts my thoughts, bringing me back to the battle. "I think that if we head east then we can get past them. They aren't guarding the gate exclusively and it should only take us about half an hour."
"Then move out," I order, not doubting Carter for a second. She's saved my ass enough times for me to trust her judgment and anywhere is going to be better than here in a few minutes when they track us.
We break into a half run, not wanting to tire ourselves out too much more but also not wanting to risk capture.
It's not until we reach the gate 25 minutes later -I knew it was right to trust her- that I realize we are a man down.
"Sir, where's Jonas?" Apparently Carter noticed at the same time.
"Damn," I curse. "Dial home and get out of here. I'll go back for him." I decide. "Teal'c, give me your staff."
Teal'c hands his weapon over without argument and Carter knows better than to question me when I make a decision like this. She dials the gate as I run back into the forest and I can vaguely hear the familiar sound of the kawhoosh as I reach the trees.
Twenty minutes later I see my first sign of our missing team member. Jonas' P90 is lying on the ground. I know this isn't a good sign.
//Sam//
"Major?" General Hammond's voice greets me on the other side of the gate. "You're ahead of schedule.
"The indigenous peoples we encountered were extremely hostile Sir," I explain.
"Where are Colonel O'Neill and Jonas?" He asks as the gate disengages.
"We lost Jonas in the forest Sir," I apologize. "Colonel O'Neill went back to retrieve him."
"Report to the infirmary," he orders. "When should we expect them?"
"It shouldn't take more than an hour to get there and back Sir," I tell him. "Unless Jonas took a wrong turn."
"We'll wait an hour and then send a message through," General Hammond decides.
"Get cleaned up and checked out then I want to know exactly what happened."
"Yes Sir." I nod and then follow Teal'c towards the infirmary.
//Jack//
"Colonel?" A voice speaks quietly behind me. I can hear that it is Jonas but I can also tell from his voice that he doesn't really want my attention.
I know what is coming but I have to turn around to locate him anyway.
As soon as I am facing the direction that the voice came from something large and painful hits me in the stomach. Crippling pain shoots down my back and I fall to my knees with a gasp. As my knees hit the forest floor a number of sharp twigs pierce the skin, sending shooting pains up my thighs. Thankfully the weapons they use are powerful and the pain fades as darkness takes over my senses.
++ 2 hours after capture ++
I blink at the brightness as I open my eyes. Whatever hit me earlier must have done some damage, I still feel winded. My head is cloudy from being unconscious and I really don't have the energy to move. My eyes adjust to the light and the first thing I see is Jonas, curled up in the corner. And it really is a corner this time.
"Jonas?" I whisper, hoping that he's conscious.
There is no movement so I roll painfully onto my feet and stumble over to him. I shake him slightly in an attempt to wake him.
He coughs a few times and a bleary set of blue eyes look at me.
"You ok?" I ask, noticing the rather pained expression on his face.
"Yeah," he chokes through more coughs.
"I guess we got off easy huh?" I try to look on the bright side.
"Well you were unconscious," he says carefully. "I didn't get it so easy."
For the first time since I woke I really take in his appearance. There is blood on the back of his t-shirt and a protruding mark just above the neck suggests that he has been whipped. His hands are bloody and I can only assume that it's his own blood.
"Damn," I sigh, unable to observe him for any longer as the door is thrown open.
The man takes one look at Jonas' bloody form and throws him a red shirt.
"Put on," he grunts unpleasantly before throwing me a blue one and repeating the command.
I don't see any reason to argue. Quite apart from not wanting to cause any trouble, the clothes I am in have seen better days.
The man leaves and I pull off my black t-shirt and pull on the blue shirt. Then I help Jonas with the same routine, unable to ignore the wincing every time he moves. Fortunately the wounds aren't too deep, this time. They shouldn't become infected but I don't doubt that if we are stuck here much longer then our captors will repeat the process.
//Sam//
Colonel O'Neill should have dialed home by now. We've tried dialing up the gate and contacting him but the MALP's been taken out.
The entire command is hoping that he'll walk through that gate with a grin on his face in the next few hours.
General Hammond said that we could send another MALP in four hours; give things a chance to quiet down before we send a rescue team.
I'm not worried. They're both strong, they can hold out for a while until we can get to them.
That's right, I'm not worried.not yet anyway.
++ 6 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
The door opens again but a different man enters this time.
"Blue," he calls to me. "Come."
I stand up slowly, all too aware of the large, flat, silver weapon by his side, the same as the one they used on me earlier. He leads me from the room and down a long dark corridor. There are hundreds of cells like the one Jonas and I are in. A musty, putrid stench hangs low in the air and with nagging unease I can only imagine the number of dead bodies behind the doors we pass.
I'm led into another room, larger, with walls that despite looking just like the rest of the compound appear to move at times, like a bad hologram. I can hear whispers coming from apparently nowhere, which leads me to believe that there are people watching from the other side of the walls. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I listen, although I can't make out what they're saying.
I'm left alone in the large space but the lack of another presence just makes me more uneasy. Clamps spring up from the floor and clasp my ankles effectively stopping me from moving at all.
Then it begins.
A sharp pain across my back, it feels like a whip except there is no cracking sound. It's repeated again and again, no doubt leaving similar marks on the skin as the ones I saw on Jonas. I flinch with each stroke but grit my teeth and refuse to scream or even groan.
The whipping, for lack of a better term, stops and for a moment I think it might be over. No such luck. I can feel something wrapping around my forehead but there is still no sound and no sight of anything in the room with me. The pressure in my head builds until it feels like it's about to explode, then my lungs join in and it gets hard to breathe.
I vaguely hear a cheer coming from behind the walls as I pass out, dropping painfully and awkwardly onto the floor, still clamped at the ankles, before finally losing all perception.
//Sam//
The second MALP was disabled the moment it reached the other side. The rescue op was cancelled.
Colonel O'Neill and Jonas are on their own. General Hammond has said that we'll keep trying and that we'll send a team through as soon as it is safe.
I am worried now. I'm worried that by the time it's safe it'll be too late.
This isn't fair. He only just got back, only just recovered from the last mission gone wrong. I find myself feeling like a black widow once again.
I'm sitting in the locker room, the same place I sat last time. I can't understand how I can lose them all. Teal'c is now officially the only man I care about that I haven't killed.
No wait, I shouldn't think like that. It's not that I've lost hope, I just.I don't know how to lose them again.
Sometimes I think it's time to stop fighting. I can't remember the last time I sat and cried in front of someone. Then I totally broke down in front of Teal'c.
Losing Jonas will be like losing Daniel all over again and losing Colonel O'Neill will be like.something I don't want to imagine.
++ 8 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
As I wake up I can still feel the pressure in my head. It's lessened but it makes my limbs heavy.
"Colonel?" Jonas asks. I guess he can see me moving.
"I'm ok," I answer instinctively. "I just suddenly have much more sympathy for how you were feeling earlier."
"It gets better," he assures me. "Although if you got that whip thing don't expect it to stop stinging any time soon."
"We've gotta find a way out of here," I needlessly state.
"The only way out is through the door," Jonas tells me. "I've checked the rest of the room but there's nothing."
I admire his enthusiasm but right now my head is throbbing so hard that I wish he'd just shut up.
"Then we'd have to get down that huge corridor and outside, past all the guards, it could be miles to the gate and." Jonas prattles on.
"Jonas!" I groan, cutting him off. "Please, my head."
"Sorry Sir," he mutters and I'm sure I can hear amusement in his voice, I never really noticed how much like Carter he is.
"Did you hear that?" Jonas asks suddenly.
"Hear what?" I humor him, thinking that it's his imagination.
The sound of something like a horn blares out through the cell, although there are no windows so I'm not sure where it is coming from.
"What do you think it means?" Jonas asks, his eyes needlessly scanning the walls.
The lights go out.
"Bedtime," I reply as calmly as I can. "I think it means that it's bedtime."
We both move to lie down on our respective 'beds'.
"Colonel?" Jonas catches my attention before I can quite reach the floor.
"Yeah?"
"Don't lay on your back," he suggests. "It kinda hurts."
I grin despite myself, not many intelligent people would be stupid enough to lie on their backs to sleep after being whipped.
"Yeah thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
//Sam//
We still can't get through the gate and none of our allies have ships available.
General Hammond has reported them MIA. I can tell that he's thinking the same thing as me. He saw the weapons that blew up the MALP we sent through. There's no way that we can fight against technology like that and actually win.
++ 14 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
I wake with a start but cannot determine what actually woke me. Jonas is missing so I can guess what is happening to the poor guy.
I can't help but wonder if they'll do the same things to us each time in the hope that we'll die from infections or if they'll change the routine in order to give our wounds time to heal and keep us alive as long as possible.
I quickly banish such morbid thoughts. I've been in much worse situations than this. Hell, I just survived a month on a planet with Maybourne. I'm a little worried about Jonas though. He's never been through anything like this before and I don't know how he's going to cope.
My thoughts are interrupted by the door being opened and an unconscious Jonas being dumped onto the floor in the corner.
I take the opportunity to assess his injuries. His wrist looks broken, but that could easily have been accidental. His pants have been ripped off at the knee, turning them into shorts and there are deep gashes up his legs. Similar cuts are in the same pattern up his arms. The wounds on his back don't appear any worse so it looks like they are trying to keep us alive.
//Sam//
It's been over half a day and we've been ordered to take a break.
Teal'c is as restless as I am and instead of sleeping we have retreated to Jonas' office.
"I am most concerned about O'Neill and Jonas Quinn." Teal'c speaks exactly what I have been thinking.
"Me too Teal'c," I tell him, laying a hand on his arm.
I could swear that I saw something in his eyes, almost as if he wanted to cry. I know he won't, but knowing that he is feeling this as deeply as I am comforts me.
"We'll get them back," I insist, sounding much surer than I feel. "We just have to be patient.
"It is most unfortunately for this to happen to O'Neill so soon after last time." Teal'c frowns more than normal.
"Tell me about it," I agree. I almost wish that the Tok'ra hadn't healed the injuries he got from Maybourne. Then he'd be laid up in the infirmary and we'd be on stand down.
"Do you think Jonas was even still alive?" I find myself voicing our fears.
"Do you believe that he wasn't?" Teal'c replies.
"I don't know," I sigh. "I just get the feeling that." I trail off, I've never mentioned to anyone how all the men I know seem to die, I'm sure I'll sound stupid.
"That for some reason no man you know will ever live?" he finishes my sentence, leaving me more than a little surprised. "It is not your fault Major Carter."
I smile at him, grateful for his words. An eerie sense of Déjà vu crosses over me and I turn to face Teal'c. That look drifts behind his eyes again and I lean in to hug him.
As his strong arms encircle my waist I relax. How could anyone not feel absurdly safe with Teal'c watching their back?
++ 18 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
It took Jonas three and a half hours to wake up this time and he still can't move without whimpering, although he tries to hide the fact.
I know that they are coming for me soon and I find myself wishing that Carter and Teal'c would hurry up with that rescue party.
I've decided that the worst part of torture is knowing that it's coming. I keep looking at Jonas and wondering how bad I'll feel when those lacerations are covering my body.
Once again the door opening cuts off my contemplation. It seems that whenever I develop a train of thought those guys come in to take me away. Perhaps I should stop thinking.
"Blue." He barks the order at me. "Come."
It hits me how limited their vocabulary seems. I've heard them speak four words in the eighteen hours that we've been here.
I can see the reasoning for us wearing colored shirts although I don't think it's really necessary. They are using them to tell us apart, to make sure that they torture us alternately. You'd think that one look at whichever of us was lying incapacitated on the floor would provide an answer.
"Come," he barks again angrily, and I rise to my feet to follow him. Jonas follows me with his eyes, a look of sympathy clear in the hazy blue. He knows what I'm about to feel and the look he gives me just serves to make me more apprehensive.
I'm left alone in the same room as before, clamped to the floor by my ankles and once again the unmistakable feeling of being watched surrounds me.
Complete silence hangs low in the air as something begins to wrap itself around my legs, slithering higher. My heart pounds and a cold trickle of sweat runs down my spine. It tightens just above my knees and a number of points pierce my pants all the way around. I grit my teeth knowing what is coming, the image of Jonas' bleeding legs pops uninvited into my mind.
The spikes begin to trace an erratic path down my skin, ripping the bloody material of my pants as they go. The pain is unimaginable. I can't see the device that is doing this to me; therefore I have a clear view of the bleeding tracks behind my tattered fatigues.
A similar feeling starts on my arms, although the short-sleeved blue shirt doesn't provide any cover at all. The same irregular pattern, drawn in blood, starts to form on my arms. I instinctively try to brush off whatever is doing it but my hands can find nothing solid on my skin. I panic and start swiping wildly at the nothingness in a desperate attempt to make it stop. No amount of slapping, shaking or panicking has any effect and the slow, deep scraping begins to make my head spin. The blood is dripping off my fingers and pooling at my feet.
The process finishes and I'm still conscious. I wish I wasn't. I can feel something gripping onto my wrist and twisting, followed by a sickening crack as it snaps. The sudden shot of pain up my arm and the sight of my lifeless hand is enough to make me feel queasy and my head spins even more. I guess this is the point where Jonas gave in and passed out. Out of principle I don't want to give in but I'm not sure I want to lose the use of the other hand too so I close my eyes and flop heavily onto the cold floor.
A cheer erupts from all around me, coming from behind the walls.
That's when I realize that this is entertainment. They don't want us dead; they want us to keep going for as long as possible to keep them interested. These people really need to invent the television.
They drag me, oh yes they *drag* me, painfully back to the cell and dump me on my side.
Jonas waits until they close the door before crawling, complete with the pained whimpers, to my side.
"Home sweet home," I croak.
"You're awake?" He sounds surprised. Oh right, I'm supposed to be unconscious.
"It's just entertainment for them," I tell him quickly before I forget. "Pretend to pass out and they'll stop."
"I tend to actually pass out too quickly to need to pretend," Jonas admits.
Once again I find myself feeling sorry for him. He didn't sign up with us for this. As a member of the air force I've come to live with the downside and cling to the hope of being rescued, I just hope that Jonas can survive this too.
I hear Jonas crawl back to his side of the room, although he tries to withhold any indication of the pain he's in.
"How do you do this?" he asks when he has managed to make himself at least marginally comfortable.
"Do what?" I reply, as if the answer isn't obvious.
"Get tortured again and again and still manage to wake up and go to work in the morning," he tells me.
"We're saving the world." I give him the brush off answer.
"There's more to it than that," he insists. "You've only just recovered from what Colonel Maybourne did to you and now you're here and instead of wondering why everyone wants to see you in pain you're just working on keeping my moral up."
There's something in the way he says that that makes me think. There is a level of respect in his voice that almost makes me blush. He really thinks that I'm doing all this for him, he doesn't realize that focusing on his pain is all that stops me thinking about my own.
"What makes you want to survive? Don't you ever just want to give up?" he continues.
"I used to," I admit, suddenly feeling the need to be honest with him. "At the beginning."
"Did this happen a lot back then?" he asks.
I forgot that he doesn't know about Charlie, I'm a little surprised that Carter hasn't mentioned it to him. Although she knows me well enough now to understand why I don't confide in people.
"Right before the very first mission.um.my son died," I tell him.
"That's awful," he says quietly. "How did you survive?"
"I found a reason to live." I smile softly. "Daniel showed me how to live again."
Jonas nods. "He was a great guy. I wish things could have been different."
"Me too," I agree and for once I'm not cursing Jonas' name for the fact that he isn't here. It really wasn't Jonas' fault. I can see that now.
"How did he die?" Jonas returns to the Charlie conversation.
"Charlie shot himself with my gun," I sigh.
"Oh god." I can almost hear him wince.
I notice that he hasn't said that he's sorry. Most people apologize when you tell them that someone close to you has died, even though it's not their fault. I'm grateful to Jonas for not doing it that. It has a way of bugging me.
"What about now?" He pushes more. "Now that Daniel isn't here what keeps you going?"
"I have things to do." I vague up the truth. "I don't plan on dying until I've done them."
"Ah." Jonas knows what I'm talking about, I can tell. That almost worries me; I didn't think it was that obvious. Chances are that Teal'c told him at some point.
"I don't think I've got anything to hang on to," he admits sadly. "I don't really fit in anywhere anymore."
"You have friends to hang on for," I insist.
"I betrayed all my friends when I left Kelowna."
"I'm talking about us Jonas." I'm frustrated that I have to spell it out. "Teal'c, Carter and me. SG1, we're your friends."
He turns to look at me, and smiles despite the pain that's still coursing around his body.
"Thank you," he says sincerely. And I can tell that I've put his mind at rest. He needed something to cling to and now he knows that I've accepted him, chances are I'll never say so again but he'll know.
++ 22 hours after capture ++
"I can't do it anymore," a shaky voice tells me from the corner.
Jonas is huddled up and shivering furiously. It's not particularly cold so I come to the conclusion that he's caught an infection. It's hardly surprising given how many open wounds we have. It's times like this when I'd actually be glad to see Janet and one of her needles.
"You've got to hang on Jonas," I insist.
"Why?" he coughs, "If they were going to find us wouldn't they be here already?"
I can understand how defeated he feels, but we have to wait for a rescue, I can't let him give up now.
"Take off your shirt Jonas," I order.
He does as I tell him, dropping it at his side before he realizes what I asked.
"Why?" he all but splutters.
I pull of my own shirt and toss it to him.
"Put that on," I say as I pull on his.
"Why?" He asks again. Although it stands to reason, I wasn't very forthcoming with an answer.
"Just trust me," I insist as I help him to his feet.
I manage to get him across the room to my side of the cell and he collapses into a heap once again.
"Go to sleep," I say as soothingly as I can manage.
"They'll come soon," he replies, shaking his head.
"Just trust me," I repeat. "Go to sleep."
I'm hoping that they won't notices we've swapped. I figure that if they take me instead then it'll buy Jonas an extra few hours before his next session. I doubt that it'll help at this stage but it's all that I can do for him. On the plus side, at least I won't already know what's coming.
The door swings open and the order is given, just like every time before.
"Red. Come."
I stand slowly and follow. He must have noticed Jonas shaking because the man walks over to him and injects him with something.
Jonas stirs slightly in his sleep, but I see him settle again just before the door is closed behind me.
It all follows the same pattern as before, which to be honest is getting boringly predictable. It's mildly comforting to know that they do the same for 'red' as for 'blue'.
The stillness and silence hangs in the air for longer than normal. Almost as if they've run out of ideas and are trying to think of new ways to torture me. Or perhaps it was always like this for Jonas, while they made a decision and then they just repeated it with me.
No doubt the entertainment value was increased in seeing which of us held out for longer.
"No doubt the entertainment value was increased in seeing which of us held out for longer."
It's almost like an echo except I didn't say it aloud. I'm shocked and disturbed at hearing my thoughts spoken to me. Then again perhaps I just imagined it. I wouldn't be surprised if I was delusional.
Something brushes past my face and begins to wind around my throat. This whole invisible thing is getting really old.
It tightens slowly, not enough to stop me breathing but enough to be very uncomfortable.
Then I feel my feet beginning to lift off the floor. I'm held down by the clamps around my ankles so they can't lift up far. It's enough though, I can feel the pressure on my neck increasing and breathing becomes more difficult.
I'd never considered that this might be it. That they might have gotten sick of us and decided that this time they would just kill us. I can only hope that Jonas lives long enough to be saved. I hate the thought of him being left alone.
My feet are suddenly flat on the floor again and my lungs suck in a few deep breaths. The rush of oxygen is very welcome and helps to clear my head a little.
The rope, for lack of knowing what it really is, is still around my neck, it's just slack.
The next sequence of events happens too fast for my mind to register. I feel stabbing pains across my entire body and my broken wrist screams out. Then next thing I know that same arm is hanging limply at my side and the dislocated shoulder is throbbing painfully.
My mind fogs up with the pain and the rest of the session is a bit of a blur. Before I know it I'm being dumped back in Jonas' corner of our cell.
I can still feel my lungs crying out for oxygen and I have the feeling that they tried to hang me again before they brought me back here.
I shake off the haze and drag my uncooperative body to Jonas' side.
"Hey," I try to yell, it comes out rather husky and makes my throat sting.
I nudge him and whisper. "Jonas."
He opens his eyes slowly and looks at me, it takes a while for him to focus.
"It hurts," he breathes.
I look at his back and see flaming red wounds surrounded by puss and blood. I guess that they gave him some form of a painkiller or I don't think he'd be conscious.
His face is pale and his eyes are dull and in four hours they'll come and take him away for what will probably be the last time.
"Hang in there Jonas." I squeeze his good hand with mine. It becomes impossible to ignore the shooting pain in my other shoulder and I collapse onto the floor.
"I never even imagined things like this," Jonas whispers, more to himself then me I assume but I listen anyway. "I read books where people got hurt but I never imagined the pain could be this intense."
I feel sorry for him all over again. I knew what to expect from the beginning but Jonas came to us as a scientist of sorts, drifting in a bliss of naiveté. He's learnt the hard way just exactly what war is about and he's here paying the price for another cultures entertainment. We're like zoo animals, put on exhibit so that people can 'ooh' and 'ahh' and then go back to their nice comfy homes whilst we live in cages.
The most worrying thing for me at the moment is that I'm thinking in metaphors, either Daniel's snuck inside my head or I'm getting delirious.
//Sam//
We launched a UAV to scan the area in order to give us some idea of where we'd have to get to when the gate is clear.
There is one compound on the planet, which is 15 clicks west of the gate. There is only one healthy team on world with which to mount a rescue. Teal'c, SG6 and me will be Colonel O'Neill and Jonas' last hope of escape.
The UAV showed that defenses around the gate are thinning out. We don't know where they're going but in a few hours we should be able to get through and start the rescue.
I just hope we aren't too late.
++ 26 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
I was right. I sit here now with a blue shirt at my feet. That was all they brought back when they took Jonas this time. Maybe they did something different to what they did to me or perhaps they just decided that he was too weak to bother with and kept him hanging in the air until the asphyxia killed him.
I feel unbelievable guilt at having let them kill him. Despite the pain that keeps rendering me unconscious I feel like I should have switched with him again, should have tried to make them take me in his place once more.
I wonder if they'll wait another four hours before they take me again or if they'll decide that they want to finish me off too.
I have to admit that Jonas was keeping me alive as much as I was helping him. Just like Daniel talked me through the time that Ba'al captured me, Jonas gave me a perspective on what I was living for.
It has to be a bad sign that I'm reflecting like this. The beginning of that 'life flashing before your eyes' thing.
It's hard to believe that we've only been here for a day. It feels like forever.
I wonder what Carter and Teal'c are doing right now. If they're on the base being given a new team because we've been assumed dead or if they're trying to find us.
//Sam//
We've been walking for half an hour. There is no sign of any of the natives but we are staying in the forest just in case any are taking the main path.
There are only five of us on this mission due to another rescue mission having to take place at the same time.
We left Captain Forest and Lt Granger at the gate. It's just me, Teal'c and Major Hardy heading for the compound. When and if we can determine that it's safe then a medical team will come through and help us.
We have about another 3 hours and a half before we reach the compound. I have no idea how we'll get them back even if we do find them. We have two stretchers with us but with only three people to carry them it's not going to be much use. Unfortunately there wasn't another choice. We can't leave less than two people at the gate and the five of us are the last SG team members who are cleared to go off world.
Whatever happens from now I just hope that at least one of them will be able to walk.
++ 29 hours after capture ++
//Jack//
They didn't wait quite as long as I'd hoped they would. Once again I stand alone in the large holographic room and wait for the next invisible assault.
I can hardly stand on my bleeding, lacerated legs, my dislocated shoulder has gone numb and my other arm feels like a lead weight. I can still feel where that rope thing tried to hang me and my back still throbs from the first beating. I'm not sure what there is left for them to do.
Something large and hard smacks against my left ankle, making the bones creak and the nerves scream. The blows become harder and harder until I can feel my bones on the verge of breaking. The attack stops just before they give out but I'll have one hell of a bruise. It takes a moment after they stop for the feeling to travel to my brain before the pain hits me. My ankle gives out and me knees buckle, sending me sprawling on the cold floor. I reach out my arms to break my fall as a reflex. The pain that shoots up from my broken wrist to my dislocated shoulder makes my other arm move away suddenly and I hit the floor at an unthinkable speed.
I hope that it's over, that they just needed a little fix and that they'll let me crawl back into the corner of my cell and lick my wounds.
No such luck apparently.
Clasps appear around my wrists where my hands lay on the floor.
An object -still invisible because, of course, being able to see what was slowly killing me would totally suck the fun out of this- that I can only imagine is somewhat like a large shoe comes hammering down onto my hand. I can feel each of my fingers break one by one as it hits me. I feel dizzy and only just stay on this side of consciousness.
The next thing I know my shirt has been removed and something sharp is resting on my chest.
The giant foot slams down on my other hand, jarring my broken wrist and finally pushing me over the brink.
The pain is the only thing that is convincing me that I am alive. The fact is, that even in my unconscious state I can feel something being engraved on my chest.
I push away all awareness and allow myself to slip into a deep, all consuming slumber.
//Sam//
We finally reach the compound and discover that it has three different wings.
Teal'c begins to search the east wing for our missing teammates whilst Major Hardy searches the west and I search the north.
The second I enter the dark corridor the stench of death hits me.
There are doors on both sides, all of them ajar.
There is no sign of any natives around.
I look into each of the rooms as I pass. There is a dead body in every single one of them. Most look like they died in the last few day, some have been dead maybe a week.
I cover my mouth and nose with the sleeve of my jacket in an attempt to muffle the smell I'm gagging on.
Each body looks more pained than the last, as if they all died at the hands of some mad sadist.
I have to completely enter some of the rooms and turn the bodies over to find out if they are who we are looking for. Every time I see the back of head that looks like it could belong to either Jonas or Colonel O'Neill my heart lurches.
The deeper inside I get the more intense the smell becomes, as if hundreds of people have died in here and been left to decay.
The more dead bodies I see the less hope I have of finding either of them alive.
"Major Carter?" My radio crackles, causing me to stop my search for a moment.
"We just saw the natives leave through the Stargate, Major," they tell me. "There was about a hundred of them. They didn't see us but we couldn't see where they went."
I wait with baited breath for the final sentence.
"They didn't have Colonel O'Neill or Jonas Quinn with them."
I let out a sigh of relief, although I'm not sure whether that just means it is less likely that they're alive.
"Thank you Captain," I reply, my shaking hands having trouble holding the radio still.
I continue my search of the compound. Pushing open door after door to reveal an uncountable number of bodies.
I step into what must be the 30th room I've reached and an even stronger smell of death hits me. There are two bodies, both slightly obscured from view.
I walk over to the one nearest me and roll him over.
My eyes begin to water and my knees almost buckle as I retch in the corner. Quickly checking the other body, just to be safe, I run from the room and pull the door closed behind me.
I have never seen death as brutal as what I just looked upon. Whoever that poor man was, he will lay here for all eternity with the last thing he ever experienced being having his brains literally beaten out of him.
I feel sick and weak and am not sure if I can look at any more bodies without dying myself.
"Major Carter." Teal'c's voice approaches me from behind. I turn around to see him and Major Hardy heading this way.
I wipe my eyes and my mouth, hoping to look like I'm in control.
"There was nothing more than bones left in any areas of the east wing Major Carter." Teal'c tells me, sending a small smile of assurance my way.
"Every one in the west wing had been dead for months, at least. There's no sign that anyone has even looked in there since then," Major Hardy fills in.
I take a deep breath and give my report.
"A lot of the deaths here look very recent," I start. "Check the rooms on the left, I'll finish up the right. The smell can get quite intense so be ready."
Teal'c and Major Hardy begin to check alternate rooms each along one side of the corridor while I carry on from where I am.
Either the smell is getting lighter or I'm just getting used to it.
I'm about ready to except that even if we do find them then they'll be dead when my radio crackles again.
"Major, we've found Jonas," Major Hardy informs me. "He's alive, just about."
"Get a stretcher and get him back to the gate," I order. "Forest, dial up the gate and get a medical team on stand by for us. I'll keep looking for the Colonel."
"There appears to be an Earth date inscribed on Jonas Quinn's chest," Teal'c tells me. "It is today. Do you think it's of relevance?"
I can guess the relevance; they're waiting for him to die. Luckily it's still early and we have plenty of the day left in which to save him.
I have a small amount of hope now. Although I feel a little bad not knowing if any of the other men here are alive. I've not been checking for life signs, I've just been looking for Jonas and Colonel O'Neill. I have to push such thoughts from my mind and continue searching.
I reach the last cell on my side of the block and wearily push the door open. There is a blood covered blue shirt on the floor at my feet and the crumpled form of Colonel O'Neill a few feet away.
I drop to my knees at his side and almost cry with relief. My fingers immediately move to his neck in search of a pulse. There is one, weak but definitely present.
"Colonel," I call out to him, hoping that he'll wake up. I need a little more than just a pulse to stop me worrying.
There is no response so I start feeling for injuries over his body, starting at his feet.
The first thing I find is some swelling around his left ankle, I don't think it's broken but it looks painful. There are deep cuts up both of his legs and his fatigue pants have been cut off at the knees.
Reaching his hands I notice that all of his fingers are broken along with his right wrist. His right shoulder is dislocated and there is bruising around his neck.
My eyes come to rest on his chest. There is no date marked there as I had expected, just the letters 'TBA'.
"Major?" I get Hardy's attention through the radio.
"Yes?" A slightly breathless voice replies. I guess they have already started carrying Jonas back to the gate.
"What does TBA stand for?" I ask.
"I have no idea," he tells me, still breathing deeply.
"Major?" Lt. Granger's voice comes through.
"Yes Lieutenant?" I reply.
"TBA usually means 'To be announced.' Ma'am," she says shyly.
Realization dawns on me, and a shiver runs down my spine. Colonel O'Neill must have hung on for longer than they expected, meaning that they couldn't accurately predict when he would die.
I wonder if they left because we returned. It seems doubtful given their superior technology. We're just lucky that they did leave.
"Come on sir. Wake up." I shake him slightly, doing my best not to disturb any of his injuries.
//Jack//
I can hear angels as I slowly regain consciousness so I come to the conclusion that I'm dead and have somehow made it through the pearly gates.
I force my eyes open and come to a new realization. An angel is smiling down at me but I'm not in heaven, I'm not even dead.
"Carter?" I croak, reaching up my left hand with the intention of laying it against her cheek. I'm not sure whether I need to touch her to prove to myself that she's really here or to prove to myself that I'm still alive. The shattered nerves in my fingers soon halt any attempt that I was making and I put the hand painfully back on the floor.
"Glad you're still with us sir," she smiles. She places her hand against my cheek, confirming for me that I really am alive.
She closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath.
"We may be waiting here a while before anyone arrives to help out," she tells me. For the first time I pull my eyes from her and see that the room is empty, she's here alone.
"Jonas?" My fear for him is overwhelming, the need to know that he's alive eating away at me.
"Teal'c and Hardy are taking him back to the gate," Carter assures me. "He's hanging in there."
"It hurts," I force myself to admit, hoping that she has some sort of painkillers with her.
She begins to pull things out of her pack, going back into military mode. That's one of the things I respect most about her, her ability to regain control the very second she needs to no matter how many barriers she temporarily let down.
She gives me a couple of what I hope are really *really* strong pills, and I swallow them dry. She sets about splinting my wrist and ankle and binding my fingers. Her bone setting technique has improved in the last 6 years, I muse clinically as I hover on the edge of unconsciousness. When she has finished with them she straps my right arm against my chest.
"How does that feel?" She asks.
"Marginally better than before." I swallow sharply, trying to stop my throat burning.
She pulls out her radio and checks on our back up.
"What do you mean no one is coming?" she shouts in alarm.
Some sort of interference over the large distance muffles the answer and Carter throws the radio angrily to the ground, dropping her head into her hands.
"Help me up," I demand.
"No way sir." She shakes her head. "You're too badly injured.
"I'll make it an order," I tell her.
"Doctor's orders tell you to lay still," she counters.
"You're not a doctor, remember," I almost laugh, my chest straining.
"I'm the closest you have to one," she reminds me glumly.
I push myself up into a sitting position, unable to believe that it hurts as much as it does.
"What are you.?" She trails off and helps me stand, giving up on talking me out of this.
Once I'm on my feet, or on my foot technically because I'm trying to keep my bruised ankle in the air for as long as possible, I wrap an arm around Carter's shoulders to steady myself and take a careful hop forwards.
The movement jars every bone in my body and I'd really like to just sit back down and sleep.
"Lets get out of here," I suggest, sounding surprisingly keener than I actually am.
Carter wraps an arm around my waist while I limp forwards and we begin the slow trek back to the gate.
//Sam//
We've barely left the compound before Colonel O'Neill gets short of breath.
"How far did you say it was to the gate?" he asks between deep inhalations.
"I didn't," I answer quietly. "It's about 15 clicks."
He stops abruptly, almost falling over as I take another step without noticing.
"15.? Oh boy," he mutters.
"Teal'c might make it back to meet us half way but this could take a while," I say.
We begin moving again but progress is slow. At this rate it'll take us over 12 hours to reach the gate, maybe more. We'll have to find somewhere to stop for the night because it'll be dark in a few hours.
"Are we nearly there yet?" he mutters quietly, not really speaking to me just letting me know that he's still at least slightly aware of what is happening.
We're not even halfway back when darkness falls over us like a think blanket. I set up the tent, exceedingly glad that I remembered to grab my pack before we left the compound.
After settling Colonel O'Neill into as comfortable and warm a position as possible I give him the last of the pain meds and lay down beside him to sleep.
Screw keeping watch, if we don't both get some quality rest now then we'll have no chance of making it back tomorrow.
He begins to shiver as the temperature drops so I move closer to him and curl up by his side. He puts his good arm around me and I rest an arm on his chest, realizing for the first time since we set out that he still doesn't have a shirt on, no wonder he's cold.
We both fall into a restless sleep in the cold and eerily silent night.
//Jack//
I wake up with a start, like I do every time I wake up here. I wait for the order of, 'Blue. Come', but the silence remains. Slowly I open my eyes and remember where I am. No longer in the dingy cell but half way home with my knight in shining armor so to speak.
She still sleeping, cuddled up against me to ward off the chill of the night.
There's a smile dancing on her face as she dreams, not about the hell inside of the compound, but about something worth spending a night dreaming of.
I shift slightly, trying to block the pain that has come back in my conscious state. It doesn't work so I just lay really still, pretending that I'm not really here and just watching her sleep.
The sun is almost up and I know that she'll wake on her own any time now but I still don't want to disturb her. The last few precious moments that she can be Samantha Carter before she wakes back up, miles from the gate and has to be Major Carter again.
It's no use, I can feel the build up of mucus in my lungs and I start to cough violently.
Carter wakes in an instant and holds me as still as she can manage until the coughing subsides.
"You have a fever," she tells me as she lays a hand against my forehead.
I honestly hadn't noticed how ill I felt until she said that, even the pain had seemed less as I'd lain staring at her. Now of course it all seems to have multiplied.
"Do you think you can keep going?" she continues, looking at me worriedly.
I nod; not saying anything for fear that my voice will give away how weak I really feel.
"Great," she smiles encouragingly. "I'm sure Teal'c will meet us soon."
She glances down at her vest and sighs. I realize that she left the radio behind when she found me. She doesn't know if anyone will come and meet us, and she sure as hell knows that I won't survive another night without medical attention. I'm not sure if her insistence that Teal'c is on his way is for my benefit or hers, probably both.
She helps me outside and leans me against a tree, where I sit helplessly and watch her pack up the tent. We try to eat a quick breakfast just to keep our strength up, but I can only choke down a bite before throwing it back up I don't think I'll keep very much down and she doesn't seem to be hungry.
Before I know it we are back on our feet and have been hiking for a couple of hours.
We rest sporadically, whenever Carter notices how pale I'm getting. The fever is worse and I can feel an infection taking hold.
I don't realize that I've stopped paying attention until I trip on a root. My bad foot gets caught under it and as I fall forwards I feel the bones finally break.
"Agh" I splutter from my new and very painful position on the floor.
"Sir?" Carter is down by my side in seconds. "It's broken," she announces.
"Yeah, I got that," I mutter through gritted teeth. "You wanna strap it up?"
"I think we should wait sir," she insists.
"It hurts damn it," I hiss. "Strap it up."
Carter gets her medical kit out again and prepares to straighten the bones again.
"Ready?" she asks, not so much a question as a simple warning.
I fall onto my back and scream and she snaps the bones back into place. The she starts to bind it.
I take repeated deep breaths as I lay waiting for her to finish.
"When ever you're ready," I groan, the pain almost eating me alive.
"It's almost done," she assures me.
I yell out again.
"I'm sorry sir." She looks at me with eyes full of guilt and I wish that this didn't hurt so much, for both our sakes.
"Help me up," I order when she's finished and packed away her stuff.
"No sir," she says again.
"Now," I insist.
She moves to my side and helps me stand on my right foot.
"See," I say breathlessly. "We can do this."
I take one hop forwards with Carters help and decide that this is going to kill me.
Please god let Teal'c meet us soon, I think as I take one more tiny hop, before I pass.
//Sam//
Colonel O'Neill's weight falls against me and I can hardly keep us upright as I lower him to the ground.
It's still a good 5 clicks to the gate, which under normal circumstances would be quick and easy. Trying to carry or drag Colonel O'Neill that far without killing him would be far more difficult. I once again find myself wishing that I'd remembered my radio. I sit on the uneven ground to rest, giving myself even more time to think, then drop my head into my hands in defeat. I couldn't possibly have screwed up this rescue mission any more thoroughly.
If we'd have waited at the compound then someone would have come to help and we'd probably be home by now. If I'd remembered my radio then someone would be here already and there'd be no problem getting back to the gate.
Instead we're stuck at an unspecified distance from the gate and Colonel O'Neill is worse off than when we started. There is nothing left in the first aid kit, I just let him break his ankle and he has a fever, which is probably the start of pneumonia or septicemia from the infected wounds.
Ok Sam, you're thinking too much.
I can't do anything until he comes round or until someone finds us so I lie down next to Colonel O'Neill and close my eyes.
Could things possibly get any worse?
"Sam?"
A voice causes me to sit back up and open my eyes. I come face to face with Janet. "Are you ok? You look cold."
"Janet," I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank god. I couldn't move him on my own."
"It's ok." She helps me to my feet. "Teal'c and Major Hardy have already taken him. I gave him plenty of painkillers and antibiotics before they left."
Janet begins to walk in the direction of the gate, as I move to keep up I feel nauseous.
"Sam?" Janet returns to my side in an instant and rubs my back as I throw up again.
I lean against a tree and take a few deep breaths. Janet offers me some water, which I use to rinse the taste out of my mouth before spitting it onto the grass. I've felt like this often enough in the past to know that actually drinking it would only make me feel worse.
After a few moments I compose myself and start walking again.
"Maybe we should wait for a while," Janet suggests.
I shake my head and keep going. I have to get back to the base and check on Colonel O'Neill.
Within half an hour we've caught up with Teal'c and Major Hardy, who are traveling slightly slower than us for obvious reasons.
Janet holds me back from them a little to stop me from interrupting or something.
"Is he still ok?" I ask, craning my neck to get a better view.
"We're almost there," Janet replies with a smile. I'm too tired to argue but I get the feeling that she just avoided the question.
"How is he?" I've been waiting outside the OR for two hours while Janet operated on him.
"Stable," Janet answers, a fob off account if ever I heard one. I give her a look, insisting a straight answer.
"I had to set a lot of bones and he's got the start of an infection in the wounds on his back. I don't know if he'll ever fully recover and he'll have massive scaring for life," she tells me honestly.
I decide here and now that I preferred the fob off account.
"Did I make things worse?" I ask, for some reason I feel the need to make myself feel even more guilty.
"I don't know Sam," she sighs. "To be honest it's a minor miracle that the two of you made it as far as you did."
"What do you mean?"
"He's a mess," she states bluntly. "I don't know how he walked as far as he did without killing himself."
I'm stunned into silence. I thought that the fact he had walked with me was a good sign. Now I wish I'd been more adamant about staying at the compound until help came.
"How's Jonas?" I change the subject, trying to accept the news about Colonel O'Neill and feeling a little bad for not checking on Jonas sooner.
"He's in one piece," Janet replies. "Just about anyway. You know Jonas, he'll bounce back."
"I'm glad."
I sigh, it's good that there is at least one piece of good news. "I'll have to stop in and see him later." I decide, stifling a yawn.
"Good idea. First go and get some rest," Janet orders. "When was the last time you ate?"
"I can't remember," I shrug.
"Have you drunk anything since you've been back?" she continues.
I shake my head. "I don't think so."
"Go and get some water and some food Sam," she says sternly.
I begin to walk away, leaning against the wall for a second when I start to feel woozy.
"Sam?" Janet's by my side again before I know it. "Still feeling nauseous?"
"A little." I hold my head to try to stop it spinning.
"Come on." Janet leads me into the infirmary and sits me on one of the beds.
"You're temperature is normal," she announces. "No obvious signs of flu or infection. How long have you been feeling ill for?"
"It was only yesterday morning when we got to the compound and this morning when you found us," I assure her.
"And you haven't.?" She starts.
"I'll be fine Janet," I promise her. "It's probably just something I ate."
"But you didn't eat," she reminds me. "What happened the first time?"
"Oh god," I groan as the memories come back. "There was all those bodies, it smelled awful."
"Ok so it's probably just remembering that that's making you queasy. Get some food and some rest."
"I need to see him," I insist as she turns to leave.
"Tomorrow. He's not going to wake up any time soon and if you don't go to your quarters and sleep now, I'll sedate you," she threatens.
"You need to sleep too," I remind her. "You're no use to any of us if you're tired."
She smiles briefly.
"I mean it Janet. If anything goes wrong then we need you to be on top of things."
She smiles again and nods this time. "I know."
"So you'll get some rest?" I push.
"I hate leaving them until I know they'll be ok," she sighs.
"So do I," I agree. "But we all have to sleep." I find myself adopting Janet's usual role of mother hen.
"I'll sleep when I finish my rounds," she promises. "Now go or I'll get out the needles."
I grudgingly get to my feet and walk to my quarters. I don't even remember to change my clothes before I fall asleep.
On waking I immediately look at the clock to find that ten hours have passed. I can't remember the last time I slept for so long.
I hurriedly change into some clean fatigues and drag a comb through my hair. At least now I look almost alive and I no longer feel ill.
I don't even stop for breakfast as I rush to the infirmary, hoping that I won't be greeted by any bad news.
Janet is already there, looking as if she never left. The only confirmation I have that she kept her promise is that the color of her shirt has changed and her hair is no longer half falling out of it's clip.
"Morning." I smile brightly as I enter, proving that I'm feeling fine again.
"Good morning." Janet smiles back. "You look better."
"I feel it," I agree. "You look a lot better yourself."
There must be something in the way I'm fidgeting on the spot or perhaps she can just read me like a book these days but her next words answer my unspoken question.
"He's still not awake but you can go in."
I smile gratefully and disappear into Colonel O'Neill's room before she can say another word.
He's lying perfectly still on the bed, looking almost as pale as the crisp white sheets.
His arms are outside of the covers and thick white bandages cover almost every inch of them. His fingers are all bound, with tiny splints between them, his right wrist is in heavy plaster and his arm is strapped to his chest. The dark bruises around his neck stand out garishly from all the surrounding whiteness.
I walk silently to his bed and sit down in the chair by the side. I'm glad that I'm sitting on his left, away from the strapped shoulder.
I reach out and lay my hand lightly on his left shoulder, slightly disappointed that there is no reaction.
"You're looking better," I say, trying to lighten my own mood by acting as if he's fine. The lack of a response makes conversation problematic.
I remember standing beside my mother's bed after the accident. Her pale, lifeless body reminding me that I'd never really see her again. My dad had told me to say goodbye but I hadn't been able to form the words. I'd stood beside her, asking her questions, tearing myself apart because she couldn't answer.
This seems horribly similar. The steady beeping of the heart monitor does nothing to banish the memories.
I'm still standing in that hospital, a scared teenager who no longer has a mother.
"I kissed Jules this morning Mom," I'd said. "I don't think he knew what hit him. He's going to come around this evening, I hope you don't mind but I invited him for dinner. I've even made some cookies." My mother hadn't replied, hadn't told me how glad she was that I'd invited him over, hadn't shared the excitement of my first kiss with me. Just laid there, pale and lifeless, not really my mother at all, just some left over, empty shell.
I focus my thoughts back on Colonel O'Neill, he's here, I know he is. Yet I still have that sinking feeling that I've lost something, that from this moment onwards something will be changed forever.
"You'll have to get back on your feet soon sir," I continue. "You know how Teal'c gets when we're on stand down for too long"
I brush my hand over his forehead; he's still hot but not as feverish as last time.
Janet pushes open the door and I find myself jumping back so that I'm not touching him at all.
"He's so pale," I point out needlessly, just because I have to say something.
"He's still very weak," she tells me.
"He barely looks as if he's alive at all." The image of my mother comes back into my head and I can feel my eyes tearing up.
"But he is," Janet rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "And hopefully from now on he'll start getting stronger."
"Hopefully?" I panic. I thought it was a certainty.
"Give it time." Janet's voice is soothing. "There's a lot to heal."
"Yeah, all thanks to me," I sigh.
"This is not your fault Sam." Janet's voice is stern.
"Yes it is. I totally screwed the rescue op. I couldn't have possibly done worse."
"Blaming yourself won't help him," She counters.
"What if he dies?" I shout. "It's all my fault!"
"No. It. Is. Not." Janet's eyes flash with anger, directed at me, I've never seen her that angry before but it doesn't deter my self-incrimination.
"I killed him," I state miserably.
"He's still alive," she counters, turning to leave. She hardly reaches the door before the heart monitor starts making a different sound.
"Janet? What's going on?" I call out fearfully. "What did I do?"
I back away as Janet starts pressing buttons. Seconds after she hits the alarm the room is full of nurses.
"He's in V Fib, charge the paddles. 200. Clear!"
I watch as his body convulses from the shock. The heart monitor is still flat.
"Charge again. 360. Clear!"
Another shock, another convulsion, only this time the long flat beep turns into a rhythmic beat.
Janet returns to my side.
"He's stable again." She smiles. Then she repeats her new mantra. "It's not your fault."
I don't argue. I no longer have the energy. I'm about to sit beside him again when another monitor starts screeching.
"What happened?" Janet demands.
"I don't know." The poor young nurse by his bed visibly quivers under Janet's scrutiny.
Janet makes a few more assessments before calling her nurses back.
"He's got a tension pneumothorax," she calls out. "We need to get him back in the OR now!"
The nurses rush Colonel O'Neill from the room before I can even register what is happening.
"Janet?" I stop her as she goes past, hating to delay her in the OR but desperate to know what is happening.
"It looks like one of his broken ribs punctured a lung when we used the defibrillator. His lung has collapsed and he's having trouble breathing. We need to operate ok?"
I nod helplessly, there's nothing else I can do. In all the time we were out in the field I didn't even realize that he had any broken ribs. Just another indication of how well he hides pain.
I stand alone for a few minutes once they've left before I realize that they could be gone hours.
It's about time I visit Jonas and check how he's doing. I've been so worried about Colonel O'Neill that I haven't been to see Jonas since we got back.
I head to his room, forcing myself back in control.
"Jonas?" I don't know if he's even conscious and I don't want to wake him.
"Hey Sam." Jonas turns to look at me. "Good to see you."
"I'm sorry I didn't come and see you sooner," I apologize. Looking around the room I see that there is no chair.
"That's ok." He smiles a little, moving his arm onto his chest so that I can sit on the bed. "How's Colonel O'Neill?"
"He's in surgery," I reply gently, taking the offered seat.
"Why?" Jonas sounds alarmed. "What's the matter?"
"One of his broken ribs punctured a lung," I explain, although I don't really know what happened. "He'll be ok."
Jonas begins to cough violently and then drops back onto the bed, a pained expression on his face.
"I feel like a kid again," he says quietly. I'm not sure if he's actually talking to me but I'm intrigued.
"A kid?" I ask.
"I was in hospital when I was about six," he tells me. "I don't think I was in this much pain but it felt like it at the time."
He clears his throat a few times, no doubt trying to avoid needing to cough again for as long as possible.
"My mom spent the whole time sitting like you are." He's getting breathless and starting to look a little paler than when I entered. "She was so worried."
"Why were you there?"
"I went fishing with my dad." He says. "Fell into the water and broke my leg, caught pneumonia. She was worried that I wouldn't get better."
Jonas closes his eyes, I'm not sure if he's falling asleep or remembering something.
"She kept brushing her hand across my head and saying 'you're a very brave boy Jonas, a very brave boy.'"
I keep quiet, not wanting to intrude on his memories. I think he's forgotten that I'm here.
"I miss her you know, and the fishing." He's getting quieter and quieter. "Will dad ever let me go fishing again Mom?"
I guess that he's not talking to me, the pain meds must be making him delirious.
"It hurts Mom, it really hurts," he breathes.
My heart bleeds for him, he sounds so helpless and afraid.
"You're a very brave boy Jonas," I whisper to him, brushing my hand across his forehead in a repetitive sweeping motion. "A very brave boy."
He seems to relax and fall into a light sleep.
I stand to leave and find myself instinctively kissing his head, as if he really were just a child, or as if he were Daniel. The thought catches me off guard. It took years for Daniel and I to get that close. In the beginning it had been an attempt to just be colleagues, then we realized that in a job like ours that wasn't enough. I never thought that I'd get so close to Jonas so fast, although seeing him looking so fragile and innocent invokes an almost maternal instinct in me.
I turn to leave. It doesn't matter anyway. Jonas will just think it was all a dream about his mom and no one else witnessed it. I find myself rationalizing my actions, as if I did something wrong. I think I've finally lost it.
I find myself waiting outside the OR again; anyone would think that I didn't have six experiments and three reports waiting for me in my lab.
I pace the floor for the better part of an hour but there is no sign of anyone to tell me what's going on.
"Major Carter." Teal'c unmistakable voice comes from behind me.
"Hey Teal'c." I try to smile but it doesn't have quite the effect I was hoping for.
"Is O'Neill still being operated on?" he asks.
I nod silently.
"I am once again going to watch over Jonas Quinn, perhaps it would be beneficial for you to return to your lab and do something to take your mind off of O'Neill's condition."
I smile again, almost properly this time. He's always so concerned about me, hardly letting me out of his sight since we got Colonel O'Neill and Maybourne back last time.
"Good idea Teal'c."
He bows his head and continues to walk towards Jonas' room. I wait until he's gone inside and then follow, standing outside the door to listen for just a minute.
"Jonas Quinn, how are you feeling?" Teal'c asks, evidently Jonas is awake again.
"Oh, did Sam leave? I must have fallen asleep," Jonas replies sleepily.
"I'm sure Major Carter will return when she is feeling better, she is most concerned by O'Neill."
"Yeah, I guessed," Jonas says quietly. "I hope I didn't say anything stupid."
It's more thinking aloud than actually addressing Teal'c.
A part of me is disappointed that he doesn't remember, almost as if that one moment brought us closer together as friends. Another part of me is relieved that I don't have to explain it.
I find my self back in my lab, not remembering the walk back there. I guess I'm thinking too much again.
++12 hours later++
//Jack//
Floating.drifting.flying perhaps. Spaced out I think is more accurate. Drugged up.
I wonder why Janet gave me so much. I need rid of the pain, just the pain, not all awareness of everything.
I try to move into a more comfortable position and realize why Janet gave me so much; because the slightest movement hurts like hell, that's why. I can't even separate out the individual aches anymore.
I force open my eyes and look around. Everything's still fuzzy but I can make out a shape on the other side of the room and coupled with the familiar clicking of heels there's no doubt in my mind that it's Janet.
I open my mouth to speak and find a blockage down my throat. My hand instinctively moves to find the problem.
"No." Janet's voice pierces the silence and her hand stops mine. "You need to keep the respirator in for a little longer." She insists. "Just until we're sure that your lungs are holding up."
I try to speak again but fail. Janet can obviously sense my irritation with the inability to communicate and she sits by the bed.
"What do you want to know?" she asks, and pauses even though she knows that I can't answer. After a little thought she hands me a pen and places a pad of paper on my lap. My right arm is still strapped to my chest so I attempt to use the left.
"Write down what you want to know." Janet tells me.
I try, my god I try and yet I can't lift my left arm up off of the bed.
"Colonel?" Janet's starting to sound concerned.
I shake my head in defeat when I realize that my arm won't respond. I think she understands because she stops looking into my eyes.
"Jonas is recovering." Janet obviously decides to just tell me what she hopes I want to know. "It'll take a while but he's looking better than you are."
She looks like she is going to turn away so I lift my right leg, the only limb I can move, and hit it back down on the bed to get her attention.
"You've got a lot of breaks and one of your ribs punctured a lung, which is why you're on a respirator," she says before starting to leave once more.
I catch her attention again and she looks confused, I guess she thinks she has told me everything.
My eyes must betray me because she suddenly nods in understanding.
"Sam went to do some work while you were asleep, she's probably sleeping now too."
She turns slowly this time, watching me until she's sure that I'm finished.
She looks back at me as she reaches the door. "If you're still stable in a few hours then I'll take the respirator out, ok?"
I nod gently, I don't want to cause myself any more pain than necessary and it's not like she actually needs my agreement.
I give up my fight with the fresh batch of drugs she gave me and allow myself to be pulled back towards sleep.
"How does that feel?" Janet asks once she's pulled the tube up from down my throat.
I just nod helplessly, still not wanting to try speaking.
Teal'c has appeared at my side and he sets a straw at my lips. I gratefully take a drink, soothing by dry mouth and burning throat.
"Thank you," I whisper, although I'm sure that I don't sound right.
"You are welcome O'Neill." Teal'c smiles. "Jonas Quinn wishes you well."
"How is he?" I ask a little louder, becoming convinced that my voice sounds muffled and lisped.
"His physical injuries heal well," Teal'c assures me. "However he feels most guilty concerning your condition."
"Tell him I'm fine," I say in my strangely distorted voice. From Teal'c's lack of reaction I'd think that it was my imagination, however Janet is watching me with a completely confused and almost haunted look on her face.
Teal'c inclines his head in answer. "I have also informed Major Carter that you are awake, she asked me to relay that she will be here after she has fetched some coffee. I shall once again check on the condition of Jonas Quinn." Teal'c decides and stands to leave.
I'm about to say goodbye when a coughing fit takes over, jarring my whole body and making me feel quite dizzy.
"Ok Colonel," Janet announces. "I'm going to sedate you for a while, you need more rest."
I want to argue and protest but the needle is in the IV before I can even open my mouth.
"I'll come and check on you later," she promises and then leaves.
"Sir?" Carter's voice drifts through the haze in my mind and pulls me back to reality. "It's Sam," she tells me, as is I couldn't tell.
"Hey," I whisper feebly.
"How do you feel?" she asks. I should have expected it, everyone asks that. But lets face it, how am I supposed to feel? Bloody awful is the answer.
I clear my throat but don't bother with an answer.
She can tell how drugged up I am, I know she can because her hand comes to rest on my cheek, something she'd never do if she thought I was aware of her actions.
I force myself to focus and I get a good look at her face.
"You look dreadful Carter," I say, barely able to recognize the sounds that come out of my mouth.
"Thank you sir." She smiles after a short pause, probably due to the shock of the way I'm speaking. "You of course are currently the picture of beauty itself."
I want to laugh but I know it will hurt, I try to smile but I can feel that my mouth isn't curving up quite right.
"When did you last sleep?" I inquire.
She shrugs as if it doesn't matter and I know that it's been too long.
"Sleep," I order, my own eyes obeying the command and sliding shut.
I can feel her watching me, waiting for me to fall asleep perhaps. I hear her chair slide across the floor a little and expect to hear her leave.
It's only when I feel her head fall lightly against my left shoulder that I realize that the chair was sliding towards me.
I open my eyes just a fraction and see her hand resting on my arm in addition. But I can't feel it.
//Sam//
I wake up, not in bed but in the infirmary with my head on his shoulder. I was so exhausted last night that I didn't even realize what I was doing.
I get to my feet quickly, hoping that no one came in during the night. There's no way that I'll get out of the infirmary without being seen so I make my way quickly to Jonas' room.
I walk through the door without thinking to knock. He's sitting propped up in bed and is examining the wounds on his chest.
He jumps as I enter and pulls the sheets back up.
"Hey." I smile weakly, still weary despite the amount of sleep I had.
"Hey Sam." He nods.
The conversation stops there and I ask the question before I even know what I'm saying.
"Is it bad?" It's the sort of thing that I'd have asked Daniel without worrying about but I'm suddenly afraid of how Jonas will react.
"Janet says it won't ever heal properly, but it should fade," he answers.
As I walk closer he moves the sheet to reveal the red engraving on his pale skin.
"Were they human?" I find myself asking.
"Yeah, why?" Jonas responds.
"Speak English?" I push.
"A little." He nods. "Why?"
"How did they use a date like that?" I point out the inconsistency in the situation. "Dates weren't established in that form until the 17th century or something." Yes, ok, so that's really more Daniel's thing than mine but I do have some idea what I'm talking about.
Jonas sighs loudly. He obviously knows the answer.
"They read our minds," he admits quietly. "They didn't let on that they could and I don't think they tried once we started getting weak during beatings but." It's the first time he's mentioned the torture to me and I think he realized that.
"But?" I prompt.
"In the beginning they used to talk to me. Recite my thoughts aloud to get me off guard." he continues.
"But why would they use our date system?" I ask the still unanswered question.
"It was a way to show power. They didn't care when we were going to die they were mocking us. They knew that that was the day's date so they used it. Reinforcing who was in control. If you hadn't come then they'd have been right," Jonas fills in.
He looks haunted; no doubt imagining what would have happened if we hadn't arrived to save them.
"We did arrive Jonas, you're ok now," I remind him.
"What date did colonel O'Neill have?" he asks me.
"He didn't," I answer. "They wrote T-B-A."
Jonas laughed out loud when I said that. Being very quickly reduced to coughs.
"How ironic," he says once the coughing has stopped. "I bet they got a laugh out of that one."
"What do you mean?" I'm curious as to why he found it so funny.
"To be announced," he starts. "As if his death would just be some random unscheduled show to fill a gap in the TV listings at the last minute. It's a status thing."
Jonas goes silent for a while and I try to process the new information. It makes sense, what better way to make the strong weak than to make them feel like they are of no consequence. Of course the fact that Colonel O'Neill was unconscious and couldn't see it probably limited its usefulness.
"They must have been able to go deeper than I thought," Jonas suddenly says, sounding shocked. "I never actually thought about the phase TBA. They must have gone into my subconscious to find it."
Jonas closes his eyes and doesn't speak again. I wait for a while but he still makes no move to indicate that he's still awake.
"I'll see you later Jonas." I touch his arm gently and leave.
I head towards level 27, to General Hammond's office. If these aliens could read their minds then we'll have to change all of our codes.
//Jack//
Before I know it two weeks has passed. I think Janet has been keeping me sedated to stop me whining out how long I'm laid up for.
This must be payback for getting the Tok'ra to cure everything that happened when I was with Maybourne.
It takes a while for me to notice that my right arm is no longer strapped and my broken ankle has healed. My fingers are still stiff but they don't hurt and my right wrist is mobile again.
My left arm still feels absurdly heavy and my left leg is refusing to cooperate. But I am on the mend and at this rate I'll be back in the field by next month.
I heave my left arm onto my stomach where it is more comfortable; the effort involved is almost enough to knock me out again. Perhaps I'll give it two months.
"So Colonel?" Janet pulls back the curtain around my bed. "How do you feel about getting up and about today?"
"Ask me again tomorrow," I groan, turning my head away from her.
"I don't think so," she replies in a rather sing song voice as she pulls the sheets off me.
"Give me your hand," she orders, holding hers out towards me.
"Get it yourself," I sulk. What does she expect? She comes in here and wakes me up, expecting me to leap to my feet for the first time in almost three weeks. I don't think so.
She grabs my right hand as roughly and as matter of fact as she can without risking injuring it and pulls me into a sitting position.
"Nefarious Nazi," I mutter, before a shot of pain forces me to take a sharp breath.
"See, that wasn't so hard was it?" Janet smiles.
I can't reply because I'm still gritting my teeth. I really want to hit her.
"Now up!" Janet speaks as if talking to a small child, intensifying my will to throw her against a wall.
I find that my left arm still hardly responds to command and my left leg refuses to actually bear any weight.
"Janet," I say seriously. "Why can't I move my leg? You said it should get better."
"It's possible that the right side of your brain was deprived of oxygen for too long when your lung collapsed," she tells me sympathetically. "It looks like it's not going to heal completely."
The shock of the news makes me drop back onto the bed. I sit and stare at the wall while I try to process the information.
Never heal completely? Meaning no more missions, no more sport, no more anything. I'd have to retire again, leave behind everything that I have here.
That's not acceptable. I will not give up. I can't lose so much all at once, I've survived for six years and there is no way that I'm going to let some power mad sadists spoil it now.
"Colonel," Jonas greets me with a smile as he walks into my room. "How are you feeling?"
I watch him walk almost perfectly towards me and inwardly cringe.
"I'm good." I smile back, pulling myself to my feet. I'm very careful not to wobble, I know that I'm being competitive and childish but why shouldn't I?
"Good." He grins even more. "I better get back or Nurse Rush will wonder what's happened to me."
He all but runs from the room, giving me even more motivation to get moving again.
I swing my left leg forwards and get it to stand flat on the ground. Then I tip my weight forward onto it and bring my right foot to stand next to it as quickly as I can. It's not a very efficient way to move and my right leg gets tired very quickly from supporting all my weight, but it's a start.
I manage to limp, in my very dramatic fashion, to the other side of the room. There's a mirror on the wall and I rather stupidly turn and look into it.
Most of the cuts and scrapes on my face have healed but the left side of my mouth is turned down a little more than the right, which must be why I sound kinda strange when I talk. My left eye is also droopy, making it look as if I have a squint.
To be perfectly honest I look a state. It suddenly hits me that this is never going to away. It may get better but it'll never be gone. I find myself relieved that I haven't seen Carter in the last couple of weeks, I don't know what she's been doing and I was originally hurt that she didn't come and say hi. Now I'm glad, I really don't want her to see me like this.
//Sam//
"Hey." Colonel O'Neill appears in my lab and snaps me back to reality. I'm surprised that I didn't hear him coming.
"Finally got out then?" I smile.
"Yep. Doc says I can go home today." He grins. "But I need a lift."
"I'd be happy to." I don't even wait for him to ask because I know it's coming.
"Thanks," he chuckles.
"Please don't touch that," I say on instinct as he begins to fiddle with something. His body's blocking my view but it's bound to be breakable.
"What's it meant to do?" he asks as he fiddles some more.
I crane my neck to see past him.
"Oh, that's just a circuit that Cassie set up when she was last here," I explain.
"Was she that bored?" he exaggerates.
"She was having trouble getting matching readings." I tell him although I don't imagine he's really interested.
"On what?" He actually wants to take this further. Perhaps he's decided that he might actually understand high school physics.
"Both the bulbs," I explain. "They should evenly share the volts from the battery but Cassie's readings were squiff."
"Squiff? Is that a technical term?"
"She'd just set it up a little wrong, got her wires crossed, literally," I quip.
"They share the volts right?" he checks.
"Yeah," I tell him. "Half each."
"What if there's more than two?" he continues.
"Then it's shared between them all." I explain.
"But how do they know?" He sounds as if he thinks he's hit on something.
"Who know what?" I'm the one confused now.
"How do the bulbs know that there are two or three of them? Why doesn't the first bulb just take it all, they must know somehow?"
I try to hide a smile; it's a question that people used to ask a lot at school.
"They don't actually take the charge," I point out. "It's more like.the more bulbs you have the slower the current moves. The slower the current moves the less volts it can pass to each bulb."
"Right." He thinks for a moment. "So it's like lots of water wheels?" he asks, sounding surer of himself. "The less wheels there are the faster the water can flow and the faster the water flows the faster the wheels spin."
"Exactly," I agree. "Do you want to leave now?" I change the subject.
"Yep." He turns to face the door and motions for me to walk in front of him.
"I should go and talk to Janet before we leave," I decide.
"I'll meet you by the elevators when you're done then," he insists.
"Ok," I agree and begin to walk. He doesn't move from where he is so I get on the elevator and go to level 21.
I guess he's worried that he'll slow me down, not that it would have bothered me.
He'll get better with it and then he'll be the same old Jack O'Neill that he always was.
It only hits me as I think that that he's retired now.
The sudden revelation almost causes me to miss my stop.
Colonel Jack O'Neill has retired.
It's the end of an era.
//Jack//
"Home sweet home." Carter pushes open the door of my house and carries my bag inside.
I walk, or more accurately I limp in after her. I can actually move my left leg now so there is no more swinging involved. Janet says that it probably won't get any better now. I'll have a permanent limp and will never really be able to use my arm again. I can lift it, but gripping things is a problem that I'll be unlikely to overcome.
I follow Carter into the living room and she dumps my bag on the floor.
"My god," I mutter. I've never seen my house look so clean and tidy. It's not that I'm messy or anything but this is immaculate. "Who the hell.?"
"You don't mind do you?" Carter looks at me hesitantly. "I just came by to water the plants and thought I'd tidy up a bit."
"Thanks," Is about all I can say. I can't believe that she did all of this.
"I moved the flowers out of the window." She points towards the mantle. "They aren't supposed to be in direct sunlight. And." She pauses and looks over to the corner. "Rex ran out of water so I filled it up."
I move my gaze off of her and over to the dog that's laid in the corner. Rex, I know it's not very original but it worked. His water bowl is now full, there is a ribbon tied around his neck and I'd swear that he's been brushed.
I chuckle and smile at Carter, at Sam.I'm not her commanding officer anymore. I'm officially in medical retirement.
"Thank you." I grin. "I was worried about him."
"I think he missed you." She smiles. "We kept each other company."
I don't know if she meant that the way it sounded but the optimistic side of me thinks that she missed me too.
I pick up the full sized, floppy toy dog and place him on the couch.
"He likes to sleep on there," I state. "Just so you know."
"I'll keep it in mind." She beams at me. I'm pleasantly surprised that she understands my little eccentricities and is willing to humor me. I suppose that I could get a real dog now, although walking it could pose a problem, at least until I get used to the limp.
"I'm just gonna change my shirt," I tell her, suddenly aware of how old this one is.
She points to the chair in the corner of the room where there is a pile of neatly folded shirts.
"Thank you." I can't believe how much she's done, no wonder she didn't come and visit me very much.
I pull off the shirt I'm wearing and pick up a blue one from the top of the pile. I promptly throw that one back down and go for a yellow one instead.
I turn around as I unfold the yellow cotton and Sam freezes, her eyes landing on my chest.
"Yeah, Jonas kindly told me what it means," I say casually. "I guess I'll never look at TV listings in the same way again."
She steps closer and gently touches the letter shaped scars.
"They'll fade," she sighs.
I nod my agreement. "Eventually."
Sam steps away and looks around the room before turning back to me.
"Tapes are on top of the television," she tells me lightly, changing the tone.
"Tapes?" I ask, not entirely sure if I should understand.
"The Simpsons?" She seems unsure. "I know how much you hate to miss it so I taped them."
I beam at her again. I'm not sure how I can be smiling so much already but there is something about everything she does that changes my view on.well.everything. "Thank you," I say again, smiling my new, slightly crooked smile.
"You'll be ok here on your own?" she checks. I don't know what Janet said to her before we left but I doubt she trusts me to look after myself.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." I nod.
"I should.go then." She indicates the door.
"Yep." I reply quietly.
She brakes into another smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "I'll see you around.Jack."
She turns and leaves before I recover from the shock of hearing my name on her lips. She doesn't look back as she climbs into her car and drives away but I know she's smiling.
Things won't be so bad. I can feel it.
I think I'll get a really big dog.
//Sam//
General Hammond enters the briefing room and takes a seat.
"Shall we get started?" he asks.
"I thought that Jack was coming in to tie things up." Jonas says exactly what I was thinking.
"Jack's arranging his move to Minnesota," the General replies. "I don't think he'll be coming in."
"Move?" I ask, a little louder than I intended. "When?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "He might have already gone."
My mood darkens from that point and I don't hear much of what is being said.
"Major?" General Hammond says loudly to get my attention. I realize that I'm tapping my pen on the table and staring into space.
"Yes sir?" I ask, hoping that I haven't missed too much.
"Congratulations." He smiles.
I'm completely confused; I must have missed something big.
"Sorry Sir?" I can't pretend that I know what he's talking about.
"You're SG1's new commanding officer Major," he repeats, there's something in the way he says it that convinces me that he's said it before.
"Really?" I'm shocked. I expected a new Colonel to be assigned.
He smiles.
"You've certainly developed the mentality for it."
I'm almost insulted, wondering what he means by that. Then I notice that I've started tapping my pen on the table again.
"Thank you Sir." I grin, despite the bad news that came earlier I find myself almost elated. My own command, I can hardly believe it.
The briefing room door slowly opens and I see Jack stood behind it.
Both of his eyes are open and sparkling and both sides of his mouth are turned up in the same brilliant smile. As he stands there he looks just like the Jack O'Neill we've always known.
I expect him to walk forwards, salute, tell us that he's made a full recovery and reclaim his command.
He limps into the room, it's still quite different but he seems to have gotten more used to the action.
"I hear congratulations are in order Major." He smiles at me.
I breakout into an even bigger grin, and even feel myself blushing a little.
"Thank you," I say, barely above a whisper.
He limps a couple more steps forwards, never taking his eyes of me for a second.
Then I do something that I never thought I'd do. I stand up abruptly and stride determinedly to Jack's side before throwing my arms around his neck.
"I'm glad you haven't left," I whisper, so that no one else can hear.
His right arm embraces me tightly and his left arm rests against my back for a moment before falling back to his side.
"Rex misses you," he says quietly, although I'm thinking that that's not quite what he means.
I pull back a little and kiss him full on the mouth.
He grins when we break apart. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"On one condition," I insist.
"Anything," he agrees.
"That you don't move to Minnesota." I reply. "And that you shave that god-damn beard because it hurts."
His eyes drop to the floor and he stops smiling.
"What's wrong?" I inquire, concerned.
"I can't shave with my right hand." He admits.
I can't help but smile at his shy confession.
"I guess we can work on that." I meet his eyes again.
"This isn't going to go away," Jack tells me seriously, looking down at his legs.
"I know." I nod.
"It won't bother you?" He actually sounds scared, as if I might reject him.
"I'll take as much of you as I can get," I insist. "And what ever it is it'll be perfect." I lift his left hand and kiss the tips of each of his fingers. Then he surprises me.
"Marry me, live with me and have children with me."
"All at once?" I ask with a laugh. "Can we try the second one first and work from there?"
"On one condition," he insists with a chuckle.
"Anything," I agree. "But we're not moving to Minnesota."
"That I can come and live with you," he says. I'm surprised that he's willing to leave his house.
"Are you sure?" I have to check that he isn't just doing this for me.
"My house has too many damn steps." He raises his eyebrow. "It takes me half an hour to get to the bathroom. And I'll never be able to keep that garden."
I laugh. "Sounds good to me."
I notice that the room has emptied at some point during our conversation and silently thank our friends for giving us this time alone.
"Oh and Jack?" I push.
"Uh huh?" he asks into my hair.
"You can't have a dog that's any higher than my knee ok? Just a little dog."
"Oh but Sam." he starts, dragging my name out as a plea.
"Don't you Sam me." I narrow my eyes and try to stay serious. "Just a little dog."
"Ok," he submits, pouting like a child.
"When do you want to do the move?" I ask, changing the subject.
"Now?" he replies eagerly.
"Don't you need to get things ready?" I remind him.
"Didn't George tell you that I was preparing for the move?" Jack smirks.
So much for moving to Minnesota, I'll bet he never even considered it. But to be honest I don't really care. He's here now and I have him forever. What more could I need?
The End?
Feedback Please!!!!!
Story Notes: Author's note- You want some more whump so here is a shot at it. Be warned though.no whumping plot bunnies have been visiting and my muse is watching a documentary on a train crash so I'm on my own with this one.
I've also decided that writing detailed whump in the 1st person is hard, so I won't try it again. Lol. Hopefully this doesn't suck too badly.
Dedication- For Jackfic. There really hasn't been enough Whump around.
Copyright- Samantha Fox 01/03.
I've also decided that writing detailed whump in the 1st person is hard, so I won't try it again. Lol. Hopefully this doesn't suck too badly.
Dedication- For Jackfic. There really hasn't been enough Whump around.
Copyright- Samantha Fox 01/03.
End Notes: There is a sequel plot bunny sitting on my monitor making puppy dog eyes at me right now. It may live to write another day or I may shoot it. Lol. I need to check a plot line first to make sure that I'm not doing something that's already been done recently.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]