Movements and Wanderings
"Ready, Kids?"
"Indeed, O'Neill. As always." Teal'c nodded towards his companions as they stood on the ramp.
"Yes. Sir."
"I'm ready, Jack."
"Okay - then let's get this show on the road. Times a wasting."
Jack turned to look at the figure of General Hammond standing behind the Control Room window. The General spoke the expected words into the microphone.
"SG-1, you have a go."
With a casual wave, the Colonel acknowledged his orders and stepped smartly through the beckoning wormhole, taking point as usual.
"Well, looks like the same old familiar thing." Jack spun around, taking in the whole of the vista in one fluid motion. "Tell me, don't any of you ever get tired of the same trees every time we step through the gate? Is it just me?" He gestured towards the dense forest only a few meters away.
"To be honest, Sir, I find it reassuring. Makes each planet a little less alien."
"I have to agree with Sam, Jack. I like the trees."
"Yeah, well I'm just saying - wouldn't it be nice if they were purple for a change or yellow? Maybe even a different shape? Like oval?"
"Then they would not be trees, O'Neill. They would be oval purple shapes."
Jack smiled at the tall Jaffa. "True, Teal'c. Very true. Okay, Kids - let's head out. We have a long walk to those ruins that Daniel wants to check out. Take point, Teal'c. I'll watch our six."
SG-1 settled into its normal routine. All four members were alert to their surroundings as they walked, conscious that dropping their guard could get them into serious trouble on an unknown world, but they were relaxed at the same time. The sun was shining and the air had that pleasant warmth that reminds you of crisp clear spring days.
The general feeling of contentment made the attack all the more shocking when it came. There was no warning, even Teal'c didn't sense anything. With a loud roar a huge rhino like creature, covered in thick scaly grey skin, burst from the undergrowth and headed straight towards the group. Without a word they each scattered in separate directions, Teal'c and Jack raising their weapons as they rolled. The staff weapon's energy rent the air as it discharged, hitting the monstrous creature on its right flank and leaving the air filled with the smell of burnt flesh. The bullets from Jack's P90 joined the assault, striking it cleanly between the eyes.
Unfortunately, even dying, the creature could still do a lot of damage. The momentum of its charge kept it moving - straight towards the Colonel. The impact sent Jack flying through the air to land hard up against a nearby tree, his head hitting the unyielding wood with an audible snap.
Suddenly there was silence. The forest was still for just a few more seconds before the stunned members of SG-1 began to pick themselves up. Teal'c made his way swiftly towards the creature, checking that it was indeed dead, its massive bulk collapsed on the forest floor.
"Jack!" Daniel ran to the figure of the Colonel. He lay in a heap, totally still. "Jack!" Daniel reached out for him, only to be stopped by a frantic shout from Sam.
"Wait! Don't move him." They both knelt beside the prone figure, Sam looking carefully for any obvious injury.
"He looks okay, Sam. Maybe he's just knocked out." Daniel's eyes pleaded for Sam to agree with his words.
"You heard him hit, Daniel. There's no way that he isn't hurt somewhere. The question is - where?" She was assessing the Colonel even as she spoke. "There doesn't seem to be any broken bones."
"Perhaps he was lucky, Major Carter." Teal'c had moved to stand next to them. "He may regain consciousness in a short time." He watched as Sam's fingers began probing the back of the Colonel's head. She pulled them away and stared down at her hand, covered in a thick layer of fresh bright blood.
She looked up at her companions, fear in her eyes. "I felt his skull give at the back. He's got a fracture and ." she paused, looking down once more and finding exactly what she had hoped not to, "he's bleeding from the ears. It's bad, guys, really bad. We have to get him back to Janet as soon as possible."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
For once the trip back to the gate seemed to be shorter than the outgoing journey. It was probably because desperation lent them energy that they would have otherwise not had. Teal'c carried the Colonel, cradled in his arms to prevent any further injury to his head. To Daniel's dismay, Jack had stayed silent the whole time - not even a moan was heard.
They paused only once in their headlong rush, to catch their breaths and quench their thirst with a few mouthfuls of water before hurrying on. Sam had taken another look at the wound and found it still bleeding sluggishly. She had also found a further reason for concern - a thin trickle of blood was edging its way from Jack's nose and towards his chin. She had caught Daniel and Teal'c watching her as she wiped the stain away - avoiding their gaze for fear of showing them the hopelessness that she was trying to hide.
The return through the vortex took only seconds and then they were back home. At least three of them were - one of them had been lost along the way.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The blackness was absolute.
He strained to open his eyes but could not.
He knew the familiar icy cold of the wormhole. He heard Carter's voice call for a medical team. He knew that he was home.
But he couldn't tell them.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Doctor Fraiser knew that the report that she had for the General was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted the miracle cure.
She didn't have one.
The Colonel had suffered a severe and traumatic head injury. The fracture would heal but she knew that the damage would not. As soon as she had seen him in the gateroom she had been sure. Now the tests confirmed it. There was no discernable brain wave activity.
The Colonel was, to all intents and purposes, brain dead.
His team, his friends, gathered around his bed, they had been told, but they would not accept it. None of them would.
This could not be the way that it ended.
O'Neill looked so normal lying there. His breathing was assisted, but his face peaceful. Janet had explained that his body was operating on autopilot. He could remain like that for years.
They spoke in whispers, as if afraid to wake him and yet waking him was exactly what they wanted to do. It was a reflex, a habit that most people had when in the presence of death.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
He could barely hear them. Their voices drew near and receded in waves of sound that crashed upon him. When he was ready for the waves he could hear, when he wasn't ready he could not. He tried to stay ready, but it wasn't easy. The tide kept grabbing him, trying to pull him under.
He could hear the Doc's voice best, but he did not like what she had to say.
She lied.
He was here.
He just couldn't tell them so.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The days passed and became weeks. The remaining members of SG-1 continued to work, to try to occupy their minds with the mundane stuff of everyday life while, bit by bit they broke apart.
With a profound sense of guilt, Daniel had found himself wishing that it was over. That Jack would die and that this life that he was half living could get back to normal. He was left with a self-loathing that was almost too hard to live with. He shut himself in his office, barely eating.
Sam immersed herself in her lab work. The General had made sure that she had more than enough to keep her occupied. She found that if she stayed busy she didn't have to think.
Teal'c sat vigil at O'Neill's side. He refused all requests to join other teams - giving only a pointed look at the speaker. He watched and waited.
General Hammond knew that a part of the SGC had been lost that day back on the planet. It was the part that was at the heart of what they were fighting for. There was no way that it could be replaced.
But they had to move on.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jack had known about the transfer for days. He had heard Teal'c's anguished protests. The only thing that had kept him sane these long days of darkness was the knowledge that his friend was there.
Now he would have nothing.
It was getting harder and harder to fight.
He could feel unfamiliar hands upon him, dealing with the personal housekeeping that was keeping his body from decay. The hands were a little less caring but still gentle. They were just doing their job. They had no personal stake in his care.
When they left he was more alone than he had ever been.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The whispers caught him unaware.
He only allowed himself to surface from the deep when he recognised the voices. Janet came, but she sounded defeated. He didn't want to listen to her.
Usually it was Daniel and Carter, more occasionally Hammond. Their visits had become more infrequent.
Jack could understand why. He could picture the awkward looks on their faces as they tried to make conversation with what was a totally unresponsive lump of meat lying in the bed. Teal'c gave him more comfort, his reassuring presence and soft words reminding Jack that there was someone who hadn't given up on him. Once, he had felt a hot, bright sensation across his head and the voice of Jacob Carter had spoken words of comfort mingled with disappointment. In the background he had caught the quiet sobs receding as Jacob left with his daughter.
It had been a long while before Carter had come again.
After that he let himself drift for a time. He had sunk down towards the bottom and rested there, not giving up but not hoping either.
He would never give up.
He wasn't that sort of person.
Then he heard the whispers.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
There were many, each holding its own fascination. He listened avidly, craving any new input into his dulling mind. It wasn't long before they separated into individuals as if he was surrounded by people, some watching him, some discussing him and some uncaring of anything but their own problems.
"Do you think that he can hear us?"
"Who is he?"
"Help me!"
"I want to know where I am."
"Someone talk to me, please!"
"It won't be long now."
"Quiet!"
"Why is it never day?"
"Help me!"
As he listened Jack realised something. Each of them was cocooned in its own world, some able to communicate with each other, some not. They spoke through the regular nurse's visits. They almost overwhelmed the voices of his friends.
They were never quiet.
At first he just listened. Tried to make sense of them.
Then he felt the touches. Feathery light on his face, across his hair and he knew that he had to act.
Through the cacophony of noise he pushed his awareness forward, interacting with his surroundings for the first time in a very long age.
With his years of experience at giving orders to fall back on he demanded that they -
"Stop."
The silence was absolute.
Jack's pulse raced. The sensor on his finger sent warning signs to the machines and they in turn caused the duty nurse, napping at her desk in the quiet predawn hours, to jump up.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"You shouldn't get your hopes up. Remember that nothing has really changed." Janet Fraiser hated to see the hope on the faces of her friends. The long weeks had taken their toll; they had all seemed to have aged years, lines of stress making inroads. The only member of SG-1 to have not changed visibly was Colonel O'Neill. He remained eerily still, his long limbs relaxed.
Nothing had changed and probably nothing would, but she knew that she had done the right thing - telling the others what the hospital had reported. Something had happened last night and now the expectation would be there that if something had happened then something else could.
Janet knew that the hope was false, but that it was hope none the less.
"What's going on with you, Colonel?" Janet whispered quietly, looking down at her patient. She knew that the man they once had known was gone, but she could not bring herself to really believe it. The others crowded around, looking for the smallest sign.
She couldn't stand it.
"Let's run some tests. Another MRI couldn't hurt."
She refused to meet their eyes.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jack heard them come. It was the first time that the team had been together for weeks. Usually they visited separately, creeping in to sit for half an hour without speaking. He had felt their hands in his, he had tried to hold on, hold tight, drag himself up and out, but he had never been able to.
Then the voices had started and he hadn't even been able to tell who was there anymore. Now he could. They had come because he called them.
Come to find him.
"No. They don't care. They've given up."
The whisper was hoarse, cruel. He would not listen.
This was a voice he recognised. It had crouched next to his ear for weeks now, always there. That was until he had spoken.
"Think that you are any different to us? You aren't. You are the same. We are trapped here. You are already on the path."
Jack knew that what the voice said was wrong. He wasn't trapped. He knew that he could change things. Make it right.
"Why bother? What would you have if you did leave us? They have all moved on. They're only here to say goodbye."
It was at that moment, when Jack was distracted, that his visitors took their leave. They had a mission to prepare for, a mission delayed by this visit.
"Goodbye, Sir."
"We have to go, Jack."
Their hands moved from his arm, his shoulder. If he could have opened his eyes, he would have seen Teal'c nod in farewell - a silent promise to return as soon as possible.
But silent was not enough.
Jack began to shut down.
"That's right. You can join us here. Be with us." Other voices joined the chorus. One or two begged Jack to wait, to not give up, but most pleaded with him to come to them.
They were lonely.
Just as he was.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
It was Teal'c who saw the movement. The slight tremor crossing the Colonel's face.
"Doctor Fraiser!"
Janet had turned to the nurse, writing the orders for the procedures. She spun back, startled.
"O'Neill moved, Doctor."
If it had been anyone else she would have questioned, but not Teal'c. If he said that the Colonel had moved, then he had.
"I want those tests now!' The urgency in her voice allowed no argument. With the help of Daniel and Teal'c Colonel O'Neill was moved to a gurney, the trip to the MRI room swift.
Jack's friends were with him all the way.
But so were the voices.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jack knew that he was moving. He strained to hear what was going on around him, to understand.
"Don't give in to them." That small gentle sound grounded him, kept him focused. "You've never given in before. Why now?"
Because now he was lost.
"You've been lost before and you found your way home."
But that was different. He always knew that his team would be there.
"They've deserted you. We're all that you have left."
It was then that he thought to ask -
"Who are you?"
That one dominant voice was overwhelmed. It was as if he had opened the floodgate and let the waters in. Names, faces, lives, memories - they all came crashing, beating against him, each vying for a place in the real world, somewhere to be kept and held. Most were lost and lonely, wandering the empty halls and rooms of other peoples lives, but a few, a very few, were bright shining lights illuminating the darkness and keeping the night at bay.
And then there was the one. He was a canker, a disease. He had warped all those around him, made them despair and lose hope. He was the knife in the back, the moment of defeat.
He was the gun in the hand of a young boy.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Sam stared at the MRI in disbelief. There was the proof. Something was going on. Janet was on the phone to the General, reporting the news that a distinct brain wave pattern could be seen. The elation in the room was palpable.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
"Listen. They're still here. They haven't left you."
Jack felt the small hand in his.
"You aren't alone. You were never alone."
He was too strong to give up. He hadn't given up the last time that the other voice had spoken to him. Whispered in his ear of the peace that death could bring. Taken his soul and hung it out to dry for all to see. Kept him replaying the sound of the gunshot over and over in his head like a record stuck in a scratch.
It had almost won that time.
This time it hadn't even come close.
This time Jack beat it back without a second thought.
He opened his eyes and looked into the faces of his team.
And smiled at the last lingering memory of a child's hand clasped in his.
The End
