Disclamer: I know that they are not mine, someone else owns the rights to
these characters. I'm just borrowing them for a little while..
Note: This story is set after Daniel dies. I haven't actually seen the episode but I know its going to happen at some point. Hence, my being vague at some points. Oh, and I don't know anything about Jonas, except that he replaces Daniel after he died.
Ties that bind.
It had all gone wrong, again. Yet another jaunt off to a supposedly safe planet had ended with SG-1 fleeing from the Goa'uld. The really funny thing was, it wasn't even a System Lord, just some minor Goa'uld who had decided to set up camp on this planet. SG-1 had saved earth and defeated what seemed like dozens of them. Seth, Apophis, Heru'ur, Cronus - they had all fallen before the Tauri, in fact most of them had been killed by SG-1 themselves.
Major Samantha Carter moaned and shook her head. It seemed impossible that having come this far SG-1 were going to be beaten by some Snakehead with deluded visions of grandeur. Pausing a moment, she leant up against a tree while she tried to get her breath back. She had been running from the Goa'uld's Jaffa for the last thirty minutes, ever since the ambush had split them up. God, she hoped the others were okay. When the Jaffa had opened fire they had all been forced into cover on different sides of the clearing. Alone, she had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of Jaffa attacking and had been forced to fall back.
The worst thing was she had no idea of how the others were doing. Her radio had died as she dived into cover, possibly it had been bashed against a branch or something. If that was all that was wrong with it, she would be able to fix it in a few moments. Unfortunately, she didn't have that long already she could hear the Jaffa making their way through the brush along the path that she had just taken.
Scanning her surroundings, she noted that she was close to the ridgeline. If her calculations were right (and they were more often than not) she should be less than a mile from the Stargate. But that still didn't solve the problem of the Jaffa chasing her. Even if she did keep ahead of them for the next mile or so back to the clearing where the Stargate was located, she was smart enough to realise that she would be mown down before she could finish dialling home. The clearing there, held little in the way of cover.
No she would have to fight if only to buy herself a little more time to come up with a more 'permanent' solution. //Where are you, Colonel?// Mused Sam, hoping against hope that the cavalry would come storming up the hill any minute to save her from the evil Goa'ulds' henchmen. But they didn't and the Jaffa were closing in on her current location. It was time to move.
Clutching her P-90 tightly she headed up the hill. Hopefully the ridge would provide some cover from which she could make a stand. Suddenly there was a hiss and moss exploded of the tree beside her. Flinching she spun around and released a burst of fire back along the direction that the staff blast had come from. The Jaffa soldier fell backwards sparks flying of his metal body armour as Sam's shots found their mark.
//Damn// she thought // the others will know where I am now//
Indeed, she could already see movement through the trees. Releasing a few bursts of fire in those directions, she scrambled for the ridge, zig-zaging in the hope of throwing her adversaries aim off. It worked, at least it did until she was about to drop over the ridge and into a small depression that would provide more than adequate protection from the Jaffa advancing up the hill toward her. As Sam threw herself out of the momentary cover provided by a handy tree, a shot blazed out of nowhere and clipped her shoulder. Agonising pain filled her as she slumped down into the leaf litter of the forest floor.
The thing about staff weapons was that they produced injuries with qualities similar to both gunshot wounds and sever burns. The net result was simply put, very painful or in many circumstances fatal. Sam gritted her teeth and checked the clip on the machine gun that she carried. //Still has a few rounds left, good// she thought.
A quick burst of fire over the parapet was enough to halt the Jaffas' advance for a moment but they would soon recover and she needed to be ready. Quickly rummaging through her pack she recovered the spare magazines for the P-90 and laid them out on the floor in front of her. That being done, she glanced over the edge of the pit that she was in and fired at the first Jaffa to enter her field of vision.
Ducking back down, she hissed as a spasm ran through her injured shoulder. Exhaling and muttering a few choice swear words (that would have probably made the marines blush back in the SGC) she exchanged the now empty magazine for a fresh one before lurching upright again.
In that brief second she noted that the Jaffa that she had just fired at was down and that there were at least seven more advancing through the trees. Squeezing the trigger, she opened fire at the closest two Jaffa scoring several hits on each before return fire showered her in dirt and forced her to duck again.
//This isn't good// Sam thought to herself, as several more shots hammered into the ground around where she sheltered. Statistically, she had faced worst odds before, but then she had had her team around to back her up. Jack, Teal'c, Daniel, Jonas... her vision blurred for a moment as she thought of Daniel, the young archaeologist who was almost like a brother to her. Who was, to all intents and purpose, dead. She didn't like thinking about it, it may have been months ago now but the wound was still fresh for all of them.
/Enough// Sam admonished herself harshly, thoughts like that, at this time, would get her killed. With that she rolled upright and sprayed a burst of fire down the hill. It appeared that the Jaffa had been discussing something. //No guesses as to what, Sam// she mused, as they scattered for cover. It only took a moment for blasts to start impacting around her but by then she was back in the dubious safety of her little foxhole. Wonder if there are such things as foxes on this planet, she mussed then giggled at the thought.
Another coating of dirt rained down on her cutting short her reveries, possible brought on by her body slowly going into shock from the wound she had suffered. This sudden realisation quickly brought her back to her senses and she edged up until she could squint down at the troops advancing towards her again.
//Four of them, not so bad// she observed //must've got one with the last burst//
Noting that they were all huddling close together sheltered behind a small stand of trees, an evil little plan sprung to mind. After a quick burst of fire to keep them pinned in place, Sam reached down into a small pouch on the side of her pack and retrieved a hand grenade. Clutching it carefully, she wriggled a little further toward the parapet for another quick look. The movement aggravated the wound and elicited a wince and a few bitten off swear words.
The Jaffa were still in place, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen or someone to shout an order. Gritting her teeth, Sam mentally prepared herself for the throw. There was no doubt that it was going to hurt but it was her best chance to get them all now. In one fluid motion, Sam pulled the pin and pitched, the grenade soaring in a graceful arc before detonating on the ground amongst them.
Sam howled in pain, as the shoulder wrenched from the force of the throw and started to bleed again. As the edges of her vision began to darken, she grasped the P-90 and levered herself upright so that she would be able to shoot any of the survivors. As it was none of the Jaffa were moving having been tossed like rag dolls by the force of the explosion. She sighed and collapsed backwards into the leaf litter, a small groan escaping her lips. She'd move in a minute, just close her eyes for a second to try and make the world stop spinning.
There was a sound, Sam tensed, tightening her fingers around the stock of her weapon. A snap, as a twig broke on the forest floor. Sams eyes shot open to see a Jaffa almost stood over her. //The fifth man// some part of her brain absently noted. Sweeping her gun of the floor, she squeezed the trigger at the same moment that the Jaffa primed his staff weapon.
Even as the impact from the blast weapons shot slammed her even further into the forest floor, bullets from her gun ripped across her assailant's chest. Both of them were dead before they hit the ground.
?????
Your friend seems to be holding her own quite well, observed the alien form that was watching events as they transpired down on the planet.
For now, the other form noted, I have a bad feeling about this.
You worry too much, events will play their course come what may. What happens is meant to be, it is not our place to interfere.
Well maybe it should be. Grumbled the second being, before casting his attention to the planet below. Beneath him, Major Sam Carter was lent up against a tree taking deep breaths as she tried to stave off the exhaustion she must be feeling. Even alone and faced with apparently insurmountable odds, her analytical mind was still grinding out possible solutions to the problem set before her.
As the figure watched, the Major turned and headed through the trees toward the ridgeline. It was about then that all hell broke loose as the pursuing Jaffa spotted her. The watcher instinctively held his breath, an action that was a hang over from his previous life and strictly speaking irrelevant now.
Despite the incredible powers that the being had at its disposal it could only watch, impotently, as the Major was hit by a stray blast just moments from cover. If he had a face, worry would have been etched all over it. It did not require powers of prophecy to see that things were going badly for his friend, but despite her injuries she was still giving a good account for herself.
Refocusing there attention elsewhere the two beings watched as the other members of SG-1, raced towards the sounds of battle emanating from the ridgeline. Despite superior numbers of Jaffa attacking them - through perseverance, stubbornness and a little cunning application of C-4 high explosive - they had defeated them and were desperately trying to track down there lost team mate.
Colonel Jack O'Neill looked frantic as he scrambled through the undergrowth. Not a young man by any stretch of the imagination he was never-the-less setting a pace that most of the Marines in the SGC would be hard pressed to keep up with. Teal'c's - the former First Prime to Apophis (currently dead and long may he stay that way) - face was set in a look of grim determination. If you didn't know him well it might well have been mistaken for a look of indifference but then you would have been wrong. Since Teal'c turned against Apophis he had come to see SG-1 one as friends and colleagues, his loyalty to them was inspirational. In some respects he saw them as his charges and right now one of them was in trouble and woe betide anything that got in his way.
The final member of the team was new. The watcher knew little about this one other than he had filled the spot left by the departure of Daniel Jackson. The man's name was Jonas, and although capable in his field, he was not the same as Daniel. SG-1 was still getting over his loss and trying to rediscover its balance. It would take time but eventually they would recover and Jonas would find his place within the team.
If the team survived that long.
The being watching knew that the Colonel and Major Carter were probably a lot closer than they should have been. And if regulations hadn't gotten in the way would probably be closer still. The loss of Sam Carter would probably break Colonel O'Neill and if that were to happen SG-1 as it is now would be ruined.
They were almost there as Carter took out the group of Jaffa with the hand grenade. In truth they were no more than about two hundred meters away as the lone Jaffa snunk up on the unsuspecting Major. But they were still to far away to do anything, as the two combatants killed each other with a final burst of fire.
The watching figure gapped, this could not be allowed to happen. Gathering himself he prepared to manifest on the same physical plane as the dead Major.
What are you doing, the watchers companion asked, already knowing what was about to happen.
I'm going to help her, was the terse reply.
You know we are not allowed to interfere with the natural order of things.
You know as well as I, what will happen if SG-1 fail. The galaxy will suffer like never before. To do nothing would make us almost as guilty as if we took part in the atrocities. The watcher growled. I am going to help her and you will not stop me.
I know, the other voice spoke sadly, you do know that the elders will disapprove of this. It was more of a statement than a question.
Yes, I know. The watchers tone lost some of its edge. I must do this, not just for the galaxy but also because she was my friend.
I know, but do be careful Daniel. The elders are very strict on enforcement.
I will, thank you. And with that the being that was once Daniel Jackson raced towards the planet.
The other watched, contemplating. The young often had these thoughts but this one might be right. If nothing was done a great darkness might soon descend on the universe. It might be time to reconsider the Ascendeds' stance on involvement.
????? Samantha Carter moaned. Everything hurt. Surely being dead shouldn't hurt this much. Wait there, beyond the rushing noise - a voice. She tried to focus on it but everything was just too much trouble.
Sam. Sam, listen to me. Samantha!!!
She must be in trouble, nobody called her Samantha unless she had done something wrong. She tried to speak but all that came out was a gasp that produced yet more pain. She wanted to tell the voice to go away, to leave her be. To let her sleep in peace.
SAM!!!!
The voice was insistent she would give it that. She opened her eyes to see who her tormenter was.
"Daniel?"
It's me, Sam. Listen, I haven't much time and this is important.
She tried to speak but the injury to her chest meant that little more than a wheeze came out.
Don't try and talk, just listen. I've changed things, you aren't dead anymore but your wound is still dangerous. You are still on a knife-edge here, Sam, you have to want to live or you will die. It is simple as that.
".. Hurts..."
I know, Sam. I'm sorry, there isn't anything I can do about that. You just have to fight it.
There was nothing that she wanted to do less than fight at this moment in time. To die and have the pain go away sounded like a dream come true.
No Sam!!! Don't give in. Daniels voice was pleading. You have to fight this. There is a lot riding on you.
Damn him!!! Anger surged through her, he had done it again. He had used those damn puppy dog eyes on her. The ones that turned, or rather had turned, most of the SGC's female staff to mush. The ones that you just couldn't say 'no' to. If he had know how devastating those things could be he would have been a very dangerous man while he was alive. Worse still, he had left her with a mystery - and he knew she couldn't resist a good puzzle. What was riding on her? She had a feeling he wasn't going to answer that question so she would just have to find out her self.. by staying alive.
She could almost feel the relief radiating off him as she made her decision.
I have to go now, Sam.
Somehow she managed to choke out a reply. "Don't go.. Don't want.. alone."
He knew what she was trying to say and smiled. It's okay, Sam. The others are coming. And I'm always here for you guys.
She just stared at him. He shrugged, and grinned. Somebody has to watch out for you guys!!!
She blinked and laughed, or tried to. What came out was a choking gargle.
"CARTER!!!" Colonel O'Neill yelled as he scrabbled in to the depression along with her. "Jeez," he paused, "You look a mess." He quipped, his face taking on a strained look. All Sam could do was smile weakly at him, as he ripped into the field dressings trying to find something to cover the wound.
She felt safe. She could relax now, she wasn't going to change her decision but it became easier to live with, despite the pain. As gently as he could Jack O'Neill scooped her up into his arms and started to run for the Stargate. Instantly, he was flanked by Teal'c while Jonas ran on ahead to dial home.
Allowing herself a little smile, Sam decided that now she was in good hands she was entitled to sleep for a bit now, and ever mindful of her unspoken promise to Daniel, she passed out.
Epilogue:
Dr. Janet Fraiser sat in her office, staring at the reams of paperwork stacked up neatly before her, as if the sheer power of her will would make the forms complete themselves and vanish to whereever it was they all went.
It had been nearly twelve hours since her best friend and colleague, Sam Cater had been brought in through the Stargate and she was exhausted. She didn't know what had influenced Jacob Cater (Sam's father and the Human representative to the Tok'Ra) and the Tok'Ra woman - Anise - to come to earth at that particular time but the healing instrument that they had brought had taken hours off the surgery that she had to perform.
Sam condition was still serious but at least it wasn't in the life- threatening category that it had been. Currently, however, the lady in question was asleep due to the general anaesthetic administered for the operations. Speaking of which she should really check on Sam's vitals.
Janet sighed, strictly speaking one of the night nurses should do it but this was one of 'her' patients and they had all come to accept her little idiosyncrasies. As she left the office she could hear voices from the direction of the bed in which her most current patient rested.
She frowned. That had better not be the Colonel again. She had absolutely insisted that he get some rest, even going as far as to let him use the bed next to Sam's just so he didn't have to stray from his self imposed vidjules. He was like that with all of his team. Janet knew that the two of them held feelings for each other, a little known fact that had been forced out of them both by a Tok'Ra integration. But she also knew that they were not acting on these feelings because of Air Force regulations. In all honesty she thought that if they did it wouldn't be such a bad thing and it wouldn't hurt that a certain general would pull strings until everything was smoothed out with the top brass.
Still. However much she loved them both, she was 'their' doctor (stressful though it may be) and she was not going to let anything jeopardise their recovery. As she got closer she realised that the voice didn't belong to Colonel O'Neill. Curious she edged closer to try and find out who was there. The voice held a ring of familiarity that she couldn't place for some reason.
She had almost made it to the screen surrounding the bed, when she was able to make out the words of the visitor. It was difficult with the tone being quiet. //So as not to wake the sleeping Colonel// She mused.
I have to go again Sam. 'They' want to speak to me about my actions. It appears I'm causing problems up there too. Janet almost gasped, as she recognised the voice, it couldn't be could it? I'll try and look in you again sometime soon. See ya, Sam.
Janet opened the curtain. There was no one there barring the sleeping patient and the softly beeping machines. She hadn't really expected there to be. A tear slid down her cheek, as she remembered one of her favourite patients. "Daniel?" She whispered, hopeful, that some how he would hear. Then she felt it, a gentle caress on the side of her face. One that dried the tears and left a small smile on her face. Everything was going to be okay. It appeared that SG-1 had a new guardian angel watching out for them.
"Take good care of yourself, Daniel." She murmured as she stood over her sleeping friends. She didn't expect to hear an answer and nor could she have sworn after whether or not she'd imagined it but still...
You too Janet, you too.
? ? ?
There are some ties that bind people together stronger than life itself.
One of those bonds is friendship.
? ? ?
Note: This story is set after Daniel dies. I haven't actually seen the episode but I know its going to happen at some point. Hence, my being vague at some points. Oh, and I don't know anything about Jonas, except that he replaces Daniel after he died.
Ties that bind.
It had all gone wrong, again. Yet another jaunt off to a supposedly safe planet had ended with SG-1 fleeing from the Goa'uld. The really funny thing was, it wasn't even a System Lord, just some minor Goa'uld who had decided to set up camp on this planet. SG-1 had saved earth and defeated what seemed like dozens of them. Seth, Apophis, Heru'ur, Cronus - they had all fallen before the Tauri, in fact most of them had been killed by SG-1 themselves.
Major Samantha Carter moaned and shook her head. It seemed impossible that having come this far SG-1 were going to be beaten by some Snakehead with deluded visions of grandeur. Pausing a moment, she leant up against a tree while she tried to get her breath back. She had been running from the Goa'uld's Jaffa for the last thirty minutes, ever since the ambush had split them up. God, she hoped the others were okay. When the Jaffa had opened fire they had all been forced into cover on different sides of the clearing. Alone, she had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of Jaffa attacking and had been forced to fall back.
The worst thing was she had no idea of how the others were doing. Her radio had died as she dived into cover, possibly it had been bashed against a branch or something. If that was all that was wrong with it, she would be able to fix it in a few moments. Unfortunately, she didn't have that long already she could hear the Jaffa making their way through the brush along the path that she had just taken.
Scanning her surroundings, she noted that she was close to the ridgeline. If her calculations were right (and they were more often than not) she should be less than a mile from the Stargate. But that still didn't solve the problem of the Jaffa chasing her. Even if she did keep ahead of them for the next mile or so back to the clearing where the Stargate was located, she was smart enough to realise that she would be mown down before she could finish dialling home. The clearing there, held little in the way of cover.
No she would have to fight if only to buy herself a little more time to come up with a more 'permanent' solution. //Where are you, Colonel?// Mused Sam, hoping against hope that the cavalry would come storming up the hill any minute to save her from the evil Goa'ulds' henchmen. But they didn't and the Jaffa were closing in on her current location. It was time to move.
Clutching her P-90 tightly she headed up the hill. Hopefully the ridge would provide some cover from which she could make a stand. Suddenly there was a hiss and moss exploded of the tree beside her. Flinching she spun around and released a burst of fire back along the direction that the staff blast had come from. The Jaffa soldier fell backwards sparks flying of his metal body armour as Sam's shots found their mark.
//Damn// she thought // the others will know where I am now//
Indeed, she could already see movement through the trees. Releasing a few bursts of fire in those directions, she scrambled for the ridge, zig-zaging in the hope of throwing her adversaries aim off. It worked, at least it did until she was about to drop over the ridge and into a small depression that would provide more than adequate protection from the Jaffa advancing up the hill toward her. As Sam threw herself out of the momentary cover provided by a handy tree, a shot blazed out of nowhere and clipped her shoulder. Agonising pain filled her as she slumped down into the leaf litter of the forest floor.
The thing about staff weapons was that they produced injuries with qualities similar to both gunshot wounds and sever burns. The net result was simply put, very painful or in many circumstances fatal. Sam gritted her teeth and checked the clip on the machine gun that she carried. //Still has a few rounds left, good// she thought.
A quick burst of fire over the parapet was enough to halt the Jaffas' advance for a moment but they would soon recover and she needed to be ready. Quickly rummaging through her pack she recovered the spare magazines for the P-90 and laid them out on the floor in front of her. That being done, she glanced over the edge of the pit that she was in and fired at the first Jaffa to enter her field of vision.
Ducking back down, she hissed as a spasm ran through her injured shoulder. Exhaling and muttering a few choice swear words (that would have probably made the marines blush back in the SGC) she exchanged the now empty magazine for a fresh one before lurching upright again.
In that brief second she noted that the Jaffa that she had just fired at was down and that there were at least seven more advancing through the trees. Squeezing the trigger, she opened fire at the closest two Jaffa scoring several hits on each before return fire showered her in dirt and forced her to duck again.
//This isn't good// Sam thought to herself, as several more shots hammered into the ground around where she sheltered. Statistically, she had faced worst odds before, but then she had had her team around to back her up. Jack, Teal'c, Daniel, Jonas... her vision blurred for a moment as she thought of Daniel, the young archaeologist who was almost like a brother to her. Who was, to all intents and purpose, dead. She didn't like thinking about it, it may have been months ago now but the wound was still fresh for all of them.
/Enough// Sam admonished herself harshly, thoughts like that, at this time, would get her killed. With that she rolled upright and sprayed a burst of fire down the hill. It appeared that the Jaffa had been discussing something. //No guesses as to what, Sam// she mused, as they scattered for cover. It only took a moment for blasts to start impacting around her but by then she was back in the dubious safety of her little foxhole. Wonder if there are such things as foxes on this planet, she mussed then giggled at the thought.
Another coating of dirt rained down on her cutting short her reveries, possible brought on by her body slowly going into shock from the wound she had suffered. This sudden realisation quickly brought her back to her senses and she edged up until she could squint down at the troops advancing towards her again.
//Four of them, not so bad// she observed //must've got one with the last burst//
Noting that they were all huddling close together sheltered behind a small stand of trees, an evil little plan sprung to mind. After a quick burst of fire to keep them pinned in place, Sam reached down into a small pouch on the side of her pack and retrieved a hand grenade. Clutching it carefully, she wriggled a little further toward the parapet for another quick look. The movement aggravated the wound and elicited a wince and a few bitten off swear words.
The Jaffa were still in place, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen or someone to shout an order. Gritting her teeth, Sam mentally prepared herself for the throw. There was no doubt that it was going to hurt but it was her best chance to get them all now. In one fluid motion, Sam pulled the pin and pitched, the grenade soaring in a graceful arc before detonating on the ground amongst them.
Sam howled in pain, as the shoulder wrenched from the force of the throw and started to bleed again. As the edges of her vision began to darken, she grasped the P-90 and levered herself upright so that she would be able to shoot any of the survivors. As it was none of the Jaffa were moving having been tossed like rag dolls by the force of the explosion. She sighed and collapsed backwards into the leaf litter, a small groan escaping her lips. She'd move in a minute, just close her eyes for a second to try and make the world stop spinning.
There was a sound, Sam tensed, tightening her fingers around the stock of her weapon. A snap, as a twig broke on the forest floor. Sams eyes shot open to see a Jaffa almost stood over her. //The fifth man// some part of her brain absently noted. Sweeping her gun of the floor, she squeezed the trigger at the same moment that the Jaffa primed his staff weapon.
Even as the impact from the blast weapons shot slammed her even further into the forest floor, bullets from her gun ripped across her assailant's chest. Both of them were dead before they hit the ground.
?????
Your friend seems to be holding her own quite well, observed the alien form that was watching events as they transpired down on the planet.
For now, the other form noted, I have a bad feeling about this.
You worry too much, events will play their course come what may. What happens is meant to be, it is not our place to interfere.
Well maybe it should be. Grumbled the second being, before casting his attention to the planet below. Beneath him, Major Sam Carter was lent up against a tree taking deep breaths as she tried to stave off the exhaustion she must be feeling. Even alone and faced with apparently insurmountable odds, her analytical mind was still grinding out possible solutions to the problem set before her.
As the figure watched, the Major turned and headed through the trees toward the ridgeline. It was about then that all hell broke loose as the pursuing Jaffa spotted her. The watcher instinctively held his breath, an action that was a hang over from his previous life and strictly speaking irrelevant now.
Despite the incredible powers that the being had at its disposal it could only watch, impotently, as the Major was hit by a stray blast just moments from cover. If he had a face, worry would have been etched all over it. It did not require powers of prophecy to see that things were going badly for his friend, but despite her injuries she was still giving a good account for herself.
Refocusing there attention elsewhere the two beings watched as the other members of SG-1, raced towards the sounds of battle emanating from the ridgeline. Despite superior numbers of Jaffa attacking them - through perseverance, stubbornness and a little cunning application of C-4 high explosive - they had defeated them and were desperately trying to track down there lost team mate.
Colonel Jack O'Neill looked frantic as he scrambled through the undergrowth. Not a young man by any stretch of the imagination he was never-the-less setting a pace that most of the Marines in the SGC would be hard pressed to keep up with. Teal'c's - the former First Prime to Apophis (currently dead and long may he stay that way) - face was set in a look of grim determination. If you didn't know him well it might well have been mistaken for a look of indifference but then you would have been wrong. Since Teal'c turned against Apophis he had come to see SG-1 one as friends and colleagues, his loyalty to them was inspirational. In some respects he saw them as his charges and right now one of them was in trouble and woe betide anything that got in his way.
The final member of the team was new. The watcher knew little about this one other than he had filled the spot left by the departure of Daniel Jackson. The man's name was Jonas, and although capable in his field, he was not the same as Daniel. SG-1 was still getting over his loss and trying to rediscover its balance. It would take time but eventually they would recover and Jonas would find his place within the team.
If the team survived that long.
The being watching knew that the Colonel and Major Carter were probably a lot closer than they should have been. And if regulations hadn't gotten in the way would probably be closer still. The loss of Sam Carter would probably break Colonel O'Neill and if that were to happen SG-1 as it is now would be ruined.
They were almost there as Carter took out the group of Jaffa with the hand grenade. In truth they were no more than about two hundred meters away as the lone Jaffa snunk up on the unsuspecting Major. But they were still to far away to do anything, as the two combatants killed each other with a final burst of fire.
The watching figure gapped, this could not be allowed to happen. Gathering himself he prepared to manifest on the same physical plane as the dead Major.
What are you doing, the watchers companion asked, already knowing what was about to happen.
I'm going to help her, was the terse reply.
You know we are not allowed to interfere with the natural order of things.
You know as well as I, what will happen if SG-1 fail. The galaxy will suffer like never before. To do nothing would make us almost as guilty as if we took part in the atrocities. The watcher growled. I am going to help her and you will not stop me.
I know, the other voice spoke sadly, you do know that the elders will disapprove of this. It was more of a statement than a question.
Yes, I know. The watchers tone lost some of its edge. I must do this, not just for the galaxy but also because she was my friend.
I know, but do be careful Daniel. The elders are very strict on enforcement.
I will, thank you. And with that the being that was once Daniel Jackson raced towards the planet.
The other watched, contemplating. The young often had these thoughts but this one might be right. If nothing was done a great darkness might soon descend on the universe. It might be time to reconsider the Ascendeds' stance on involvement.
????? Samantha Carter moaned. Everything hurt. Surely being dead shouldn't hurt this much. Wait there, beyond the rushing noise - a voice. She tried to focus on it but everything was just too much trouble.
Sam. Sam, listen to me. Samantha!!!
She must be in trouble, nobody called her Samantha unless she had done something wrong. She tried to speak but all that came out was a gasp that produced yet more pain. She wanted to tell the voice to go away, to leave her be. To let her sleep in peace.
SAM!!!!
The voice was insistent she would give it that. She opened her eyes to see who her tormenter was.
"Daniel?"
It's me, Sam. Listen, I haven't much time and this is important.
She tried to speak but the injury to her chest meant that little more than a wheeze came out.
Don't try and talk, just listen. I've changed things, you aren't dead anymore but your wound is still dangerous. You are still on a knife-edge here, Sam, you have to want to live or you will die. It is simple as that.
".. Hurts..."
I know, Sam. I'm sorry, there isn't anything I can do about that. You just have to fight it.
There was nothing that she wanted to do less than fight at this moment in time. To die and have the pain go away sounded like a dream come true.
No Sam!!! Don't give in. Daniels voice was pleading. You have to fight this. There is a lot riding on you.
Damn him!!! Anger surged through her, he had done it again. He had used those damn puppy dog eyes on her. The ones that turned, or rather had turned, most of the SGC's female staff to mush. The ones that you just couldn't say 'no' to. If he had know how devastating those things could be he would have been a very dangerous man while he was alive. Worse still, he had left her with a mystery - and he knew she couldn't resist a good puzzle. What was riding on her? She had a feeling he wasn't going to answer that question so she would just have to find out her self.. by staying alive.
She could almost feel the relief radiating off him as she made her decision.
I have to go now, Sam.
Somehow she managed to choke out a reply. "Don't go.. Don't want.. alone."
He knew what she was trying to say and smiled. It's okay, Sam. The others are coming. And I'm always here for you guys.
She just stared at him. He shrugged, and grinned. Somebody has to watch out for you guys!!!
She blinked and laughed, or tried to. What came out was a choking gargle.
"CARTER!!!" Colonel O'Neill yelled as he scrabbled in to the depression along with her. "Jeez," he paused, "You look a mess." He quipped, his face taking on a strained look. All Sam could do was smile weakly at him, as he ripped into the field dressings trying to find something to cover the wound.
She felt safe. She could relax now, she wasn't going to change her decision but it became easier to live with, despite the pain. As gently as he could Jack O'Neill scooped her up into his arms and started to run for the Stargate. Instantly, he was flanked by Teal'c while Jonas ran on ahead to dial home.
Allowing herself a little smile, Sam decided that now she was in good hands she was entitled to sleep for a bit now, and ever mindful of her unspoken promise to Daniel, she passed out.
Epilogue:
Dr. Janet Fraiser sat in her office, staring at the reams of paperwork stacked up neatly before her, as if the sheer power of her will would make the forms complete themselves and vanish to whereever it was they all went.
It had been nearly twelve hours since her best friend and colleague, Sam Cater had been brought in through the Stargate and she was exhausted. She didn't know what had influenced Jacob Cater (Sam's father and the Human representative to the Tok'Ra) and the Tok'Ra woman - Anise - to come to earth at that particular time but the healing instrument that they had brought had taken hours off the surgery that she had to perform.
Sam condition was still serious but at least it wasn't in the life- threatening category that it had been. Currently, however, the lady in question was asleep due to the general anaesthetic administered for the operations. Speaking of which she should really check on Sam's vitals.
Janet sighed, strictly speaking one of the night nurses should do it but this was one of 'her' patients and they had all come to accept her little idiosyncrasies. As she left the office she could hear voices from the direction of the bed in which her most current patient rested.
She frowned. That had better not be the Colonel again. She had absolutely insisted that he get some rest, even going as far as to let him use the bed next to Sam's just so he didn't have to stray from his self imposed vidjules. He was like that with all of his team. Janet knew that the two of them held feelings for each other, a little known fact that had been forced out of them both by a Tok'Ra integration. But she also knew that they were not acting on these feelings because of Air Force regulations. In all honesty she thought that if they did it wouldn't be such a bad thing and it wouldn't hurt that a certain general would pull strings until everything was smoothed out with the top brass.
Still. However much she loved them both, she was 'their' doctor (stressful though it may be) and she was not going to let anything jeopardise their recovery. As she got closer she realised that the voice didn't belong to Colonel O'Neill. Curious she edged closer to try and find out who was there. The voice held a ring of familiarity that she couldn't place for some reason.
She had almost made it to the screen surrounding the bed, when she was able to make out the words of the visitor. It was difficult with the tone being quiet. //So as not to wake the sleeping Colonel// She mused.
I have to go again Sam. 'They' want to speak to me about my actions. It appears I'm causing problems up there too. Janet almost gasped, as she recognised the voice, it couldn't be could it? I'll try and look in you again sometime soon. See ya, Sam.
Janet opened the curtain. There was no one there barring the sleeping patient and the softly beeping machines. She hadn't really expected there to be. A tear slid down her cheek, as she remembered one of her favourite patients. "Daniel?" She whispered, hopeful, that some how he would hear. Then she felt it, a gentle caress on the side of her face. One that dried the tears and left a small smile on her face. Everything was going to be okay. It appeared that SG-1 had a new guardian angel watching out for them.
"Take good care of yourself, Daniel." She murmured as she stood over her sleeping friends. She didn't expect to hear an answer and nor could she have sworn after whether or not she'd imagined it but still...
You too Janet, you too.
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There are some ties that bind people together stronger than life itself.
One of those bonds is friendship.
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