Sick and Tired
Part One
Jack O'Neill sat quietly while Doctor Fraser finished treating the wound on his arm. It was a nasty staff weapon burn, although thankfully he hadn't caught the full blast. But that was not the cause of the concerned looks from the white-coated doctor. He was too quiet, seemingly oblivious to both Janet's ministrations and the anxious glances of his teammates.
A small groan from the next bed did catch his attention and he slid off his seat to step over there. The Marine on the bed was heavily bandaged; he would be in sick bay for several days before being transferred to a full medical facility. O'Neill bent down to murmur to him and the man moved his unbandaged hand to grasp his weakly.
"Semper fi, sir," he whispered before falling asleep.
Jack straightened up and looked around the room. The others also bore bandages, and a nurse was placing a screen around the far bed where another Marine might or might not awaken from his injuries.
"Are we done here?" he asked sharply, and at Janet's nod he spun on his heel and left, not even hesitating at her call of his name.
The doctor turned a wide-eyed gaze on the other members of the party. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Daniel replied. "Jack's barely spoken two spare words since we got back. I've never seen him like this."
"Perhaps he will explain at the debriefing," Teal'C suggested, sounding puzzled as well.
But when they and the three remaining SG-5 members arrived at the briefing room, Sgt. Wilson informed them that General Hammond was debriefing Colonel O'Neill individually and had given orders that once they wrote their reports they were dismissed for the day. This was unprecedented; debriefings had always been a group review before the written reports.
The SG-5 members looked at Daniel and Teal'C, who in turn looked at each other uneasily. They'd seen O'Neill in just about every possible mood - angry, happy, resigned, even a bit crazy - but his current mood was outside their experience. As they sat down to write, each one reviewed the latest mission in their mind. What could have affected the Colonel this way?
Granted, it had been a tense mission from the beginning. The Tok'Ra had informed SGC that Ba'al was reopening an old naquada mine on PX-2651 and was planning to work it with forced slave labor. Samantha Carter had been off-world with SG-3, inspecting some alien equipment they'd found. Jack, Daniel and Teal'C were bored of being on break, so, along with SG-5 and a small unit of Marines, they had gone through the Gate to shut down the mine before it started. Unfortunately, they'd run into a much larger contingent of Jaffa than expected. They'd suffered five casualties just getting to the mine. Then they found out that Ba'al had already changed his mind and abandoned it because there wasn't enough ore left. Fighting their way back to the Gate had cost two more lives, plus a number of injuries. Nevertheless, no-one had been left behind, alive or dead.
Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, replaying every moment. Jack O'Neill had been his usual efficient self. He had reacted better than anyone else could have under the circumstances. It was a testament to the Colonel's skill that any of them had survived the vastly unequal fight and made it back home. Daniel opened his eyes, met Teal'C's questioning gaze and shook his head. He was completely baffled.
Some time later, showered and changed, report done, Daniel made his way to the General's office. As he'd hoped, the General was alone and beckoned him into the room.
"I've been expecting you," he said, gesturing to a chair.
Daniel sat down and decided to skip the preliminaries. "General, what's going on?"
Hammond silently slid a piece of paper across the desk and Daniel took it, reading with increasing dismay.
"Resigned?" he asked incredulously. "Jack's quitting the SGC? But, but…" he sputtered to a stop, unable to think of words.
"Exactly," Hammond nodded. "Now, I'd like to know just what happened on PX-2651 to bring all this about."
"I don't know!" Daniel exclaimed, still shocked. "I've been trying to think…" He gathered himself with an effort. "You know things went bad. But we've had bad missions before. We've lost people before. I've just never seen Jack react like this before. Didn't he tell you why?"
The General sighed and shook his head. "No," he replied. "He just said he was sick and tired. I offered him some time off or at least time to reconsider, but he refused. I'm going to hold on to the paperwork for a while, but he was pretty definite about it."
That evening Dr. Jackson and Teal'C knocked on the door to Jack O'Neill's house. There was no answer, just as there'd been no answer to their earlier phone calls. Some lights were on, but Daniel knew that they were on a timer so the house wouldn't look empty on the many nights its owner was away. He tried peering in the windows, but most of the shades were drawn, so he had no idea if Jack was ignoring them or was actually gone. They finally gave up and left, feeling worried and frustrated.
In the darkness of his bedroom, shades drawn, lights off, Jack O'Neill sat on the edge of his bed. In his hands was a gun. His gun. The same gun that had killed his son, Charlie, a few years ago. Just as he had then, Jack sat silent and still, except for his hands, which turned the gun over and over…