72 Seconds
sg_udjat
Summary: What can happen in 72 seconds?
Extract from the SGC Mainframe : The Iris Deactivation Code is used by incoming SG teams to deactivate the Iris on Earth's Stargate, allowing safe gate travel. Sent via a remote GDO transmitter, every SG team member has one, and is able to safely open the Iris from any off-world location. All team members must wait a complete 72 seconds for the signal to be retrieved, and the Iris opened before travelling.
With a squeaky screech, my blood slick hand skids across the centre crystal in the DHD. I stare at the bloody handprints I've left behind, backlit now by the glowing light. It looks like some sick version of a child's attempt at finger painting.
"Daniel, send the IDC."
Sam's desperate shout cuts through my fascination with the repugnant art work, and I fumble for the GDO fastened to my wrist.
Shit, my hands are shaking so much I can barely control them to press the right numbers. Praying that I've managed to input the right code, I send the signal through the wormhole. Now we only have to wait for the signal to be received and the iris to be opened.
Looking down at Jack's still form on the ground, I'm startled to see that his eyes are open. Dark in his unnaturally pale face, they are aware and full of pain. The pain I can understand, given that he was shot three times in the chest and stomach. The hastily applied field dressings are already soaked through, the blood dripping sluggishly to the ground.
Teal'c is crouched next to him, firing at the hidden snipers at the forest's edge. Sam is huddled down behind the steps leading up to the shimmering wormhole, checking her watch anxiously and trying to keep an eye on Jack as well.
I try and tell Jack to hold on, that it's only 72 seconds, but I don't think he can hear me. He has the strangest expression on his face and I wonder what he's thinking.
That last bullet was a bit too close for comfort. As much as I want to stay with Jack, I'm going to have to find some better cover or Teal'c will be hauling two casualties through the 'gate.
"Daniel, get over here." Sam is waving me over, she's seen the problem I'm in.
As I scuttle across to join her, I'm hurled off my feet by an explosion behind me. Glancing back I can see that Teal'c had thrown himself over Jack to protect him from the flying debris. It seems the snipers also have the local equivalent of a hand grenade.
As I huddle behind the dubious cover of the stone steps and fumble for my M-9, I wonder what I could have done to prevent this. It's my job, as the cultural and linguistic specialist of the team, to ensure that first contact proceeds smoothly.
As near as I can make out, the men firing on us think that we are some kind of gods. The man who shot Jack wanted to become ruler of his local town, and he figured that he could make a name for himself by killing one of the invincible visitors. He may not have killed a god, but if we don't get Jack back to the SGC soon, he may well have succeeded in killing a good man.
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
Drip.
"Nearly there. The wormhole is established. Just hang on for 72 seconds." Daniel's words are so faint, I can barely hear him. He looks worried and I wish I could reassure him that everything is going to be okay.
Drip.
I remember now. We have to wait before going through the 'gate. Wouldn't want to take the risk of getting smashed against the iris because we went through too soon.
Drip.
Not such a long time, 72 seconds. Just over one minute. If I were diffusing a bomb and the timer stopped on 72 seconds, I'd wipe my brow and shakily laugh that I only just made it. Not even long enough to microwave one of those convenience meals.
Drip
But when every second is marked by another drop of blood hitting the ground, 72 seconds can seem like a life time. Despite my best efforts, I end up marking the passing of my life by the spilling of my blood in the dirt.
Drip, another second gone.
Time seems to stretch, each second lasting longer and longer. The people around me are moving slower, their voices distorting. A sluggish memory comes to me, Frank Cromwell falling away into the slowly spiralling wormhole. Another friend lost. A loss made even more bitter by the fact that we had only just re-connected. So many years wasted in anger. All it took was one second for a newly reformed friendship to end again.
Drip.
Teal'c is standing over me, his face set in that impassive expression I've become too familiar with. The man hides it well, but if you look closely you can see the pain in his eyes. He hates the killing and the fighting, but he is well trained. Hard on him, but lucky for us. He has saved this team on more occasions than I can remember. Sometimes I have a hard time dealing with the fact that he is in his nineties, twice my age.
Drip.
How does he keep going? Sometimes I feel as though I've had enough, that the struggle isn't worth it. When you see death and misery on a regular basis, it becomes difficult to see the simple joy in life. Charlie used to keep me grounded that way. I could look at him and justify the things I did. I was making the world a better place for my son. I was doing these distasteful tasks so my son would never have to. When I lost him, I lost my reason for doing the job.
Drip.
I'm beginning to doubt that I'll ever see fifty, never mind ninety plus. The human body can only take so much, as Janet Fraiser keeps reminding me. The petite Doctor scares me more than any drill sergeant ever did. Never antagonise a woman with a sharp needle in her hand. Or a knife. Carter surprised the hell out of me when she took on that Shava'dai knifeman and won.
Drip.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the Doc. I don't think she's going to be very happy with me again. It's not as though I mean to get injured when I go on a mission. And this time it was not my fault. I didn't stick my head anywhere it shouldn't go, I didn't insult anyone, I didn't get involved in the local politics.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Damnit that hurt. I know I know how to breathe, I've been doing it successfully now for years. Why is it suddenly becoming a problem? I feel like there is a boulder on my chest, slowly crushing me. Well, that explains it. Teal'c had thrown himself over me. He's leaning close to my face, speaking, asking something. I'd answer him if I could make out what he was saying.
Drip.
The blessed numbness is spreading up from my legs, it's now reached my hips. At least the pain is manageable now. I wonder what will happen when the numbness reaches my heart? I must remember to ask Danny if this is how he felt when he was dying on Klorel's ship. At least I'm not alone.
Drip.
Damn. I wish I hadn't thought of that. Leaving Danny behind was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Suddenly I realise that I'm not so different from Frank Cromwell after all. At least when he left me behind he thought I was dead. I knew Danny was still alive. I left him to die alone. I can never forgive myself for that. I wish I could tell Frank that I understand, that sometimes the mission and the safety of the rest of the team is more important than one man. The needs of the many blah blah blah.
Drip.
Crap. It hurts to laugh. I must be getting delirious if I'm quoting Star Trek.
Drip.
It's a strange feeling, half of my body is afire with pain and the other half is icy numb. At least in Antarctica my whole body was numb. I remember lying there, too cold to even shiver. Not even Carter's warmth registered. Carter. My number two is going to be seriously pissed at me for this one. She's worse than Janet for making me feel guilty that I was injured. She's a formidable woman is Sam Carter. One of my best friends, much to my surprise.
Drip.
I never subscribed to the view before, that men and women could be just friends. Women only had one purpose in my life, and it wasn't the talk I was interested in. Sara was the first woman who changed that view for me. She became a friend, but she was always on the outside of my military life. Carter is a military brat, she knows the score. I can count on the fingers of one hand, the number of times she's called me Jack. We work well as a team, our minds think alike on a lot of things.
Drip.
I worried at one point that I would have to break the team up. Carter and Teal'c were getting way too close for comfort. But Teal'c's family is important to him, and he values his friends. I finally realised that they had both recognised a kindred spirit in each other - cut off from others in their peer group due to differences, fiercely loyal to friends and team mates, intelligent, courageous…
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Damn, I really must stop trying to laugh. It was my own fault. I had this sudden image of the pair of them as a couple of dogs. Carter as a spaniel and Teal'c as a weimarer.
Drip.
Come on, Jack. Get a grip. The numbness has spread up to my stomach. The heat of spilt blood giving way to the numb coldness. Why is it so dark? I remember the sun shining, don't I? Why is it so quiet? God, maybe I'm already dead.
Drip.
I thought the pain stopped when you were dead? Or maybe this is eternal damnation, suffering in purgatory? I wish I had listened to the religious education lessons at school, instead of plotting ways to make Emily Griffith forget that she was a good Catholic girl.
Drip.
Ah, that explains it. My eyes were closed. It's a relief to see the sky above me, even if the colour is subtly wrong. A little too yellow to be home. From my place on the ground I can only see the sky and the DHD. There's not a lot of cover around this 'gate, the DHD is the most substantial structure around. Apart from the 'gate itself.
Drip.
Teal'c's back. He's a good man, Teal'c. Hates the violence and killing, gets on surprisingly well with children. Especially when he has a super soaker water gun in his hand. I wouldn't have anyone on my team who liked the fighting, who enjoyed the killing. I want people who feel the consequence of their actions.
Drip.
Look at Danny. If anyone had a right to hate the Goa'uld, then he has. But he can still show compassion for the man who was host to Apophis. He can forgive Teal'c for taking his wife from him. He can forgive me for abandoning him to die alone. For standing by as he descended into madness. For doubting him as he ranted on about the end of the world. The only person Daniel can't forgive, is himself.
Drip.
Damn, but I'm getting philosophical. I wonder if this is what they mean, when they say everything becomes clear at the end? But if you only know it at the end, then how can you tell others?
Drip.
I can feel Teal'c tapping my face gently. He's trying to get my attention about something. The dark red stain of my wet blood shows up vividly against the green of his sleeve. For a moment I thought he had been injured, but then I remember that he was the one who lifted me from the ground. I must have blacked out, 'cos the next thing I remember is lying here. The blood from my wounds must have soaked into his shirt as he ran back to the 'gate.
Drip.
Suddenly I can hear the rattle of gunfire. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The shouts of Carter and Danny. After the silence, the sound is deafening.
Drip.
Along with the noise, the pain makes an unwelcome return. A flare of agony courses through my body from neck to toes. I can feel fresh blood flowing as I arch upwards, trying to escape the pain.
Drip. Drip.
I can't breathe. I know I'm panicking, but the inability to perform such a simple task is frightening.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Finally the pain eases and I can suck a grateful breath.
Drip.
Prising my eyes open, I realise that my face is mashed against Teal'c's chest. It's easier to breath in an upright position, so I'm not complaining. One arm is wrapped around my shoulders, holding me in place as he supports my weight. The other arm is stretched out, zat gun firing almost continuously.
Drip.
I'd like to help, but my arms won't move. They just hang limply by my side, my hands trailing in the blood soaked dirt. One advantage to my new position is that I can see Carter and Danny. Damn, but Danny looks scared. And I know it's not the battle, he's scared for me.
Drip.
Even in the beginning Danny wasn't scared. He didn't have enough sense to be. I know he keeps saying that the academic world is vicious and cut throat, but their weapons are words. In my world, the weapons are guns or other implements of mass destruction.
Drip.
Briefly, it saddens me to watch Danny acting so proficient. He's a good soldier now, although he still has his uniquely Daniel moments. He still talks first and second and third, and then reluctantly reaches for his weapon. The zat gun is a good compromise. One shot takes them down. He will do anything he can to avoid making that fatal second shot.
Drip.
Carter's checking her watch again. Her slight frown tells me that it's still too early to risk going through. No doubt she is weighing the odds, trying to think of some way to make this delay as short as possible. Always thinking, she never stops for a second. I've never had to order anyone to get a life before.
Drip.
I knew she was going to be trouble the first time I met her. She marched into that conference room spitting piss and vinegar, taking no guff from anyone, least of all me. And I was right, she's kept me on my toes ever since. But sometimes she can be made to forget herself. Watching her face as she tried to explain a wormhole to dumb ole soldier boy O'Neill was almost more than I could take.
Drip.
She knows that I have a telescope, that I've studied astronomy, hell I even know what an accretion disc is. But still she tried to explain wormholes in terms of a worm and an apple. Although thinking back on it, she may have been the one pulling my leg. I must remember to ask her.
Drip.
Teal'c's back in my face again. He's still trying to tell me something, but although I can hear him, the words aren't making any sense. A sudden shift of position jostles me and the resulting burst of pain quite literally steals my breath.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I wish the numbness would hurry up and spread. Maybe I should run through the duty roster, that always manages to bore me into a semi comatose state. Worth a try. Next team up is SG7…no, that's not right. They're on P4X something. SG…whatever, due to ship out to…somewhere.
Drip.
Why are we still here? Oh, right. The IDC has to be processed. Damn, but it's getting hard to breathe again. That moaning noise is getting louder. I wonder if Teal'c is hurt, it sounds as if someone is in pain.
Drip.
Hammond is going to think I've done this on purpose. He'd volunteered me to show a Senate Committee around the complex. I guess the General will have that pleasure now. Unless Makepeace…no, not Makepeace, he's gone. I couldn't believe he'd betrayed us, even when I saw it with my own eyes.
Drip.
At least it wasn't one of my team. The thought that one of them was the traitor hadn't really crossed my mind, I trust them implicity. But when they stepped through that 'gate... I need to tell them everything. Explain what I was doing. I don't think I ever did properly, and they deserve to know. And Danny…I thought that I'd gone too far that time. But as usual he forgave me, although it was a close thing.
Drip.
I wish he would blow up at me though. I'm selfish enough to admit that it would make me feel better. I can deal with his anger. But hurt feelings, martyred acceptance, the expression of stunned shock on his face as our friendship supposedly died…those I can't deal with.
Drip.
I need to tell them now. I need to explain to Danny. I need to get to him.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Okay, so moving isn't a good idea. It isn't even possible. All I managed to do was struggle free of Teal'c's loose hold and tumble face down on the ground again. MRE's may taste bad, but a mouthful of dirt and blood tastes even worse.
Drip. Drip.
It's dark again. I hate the dark, it reminds me of times in my life when I've been helpless. Held prisoner, my life dependant on the whim of some faceless shadow. I can't get my eyes open and I can feel the panic starting to build up again. The agony in my chest is almost unbearable, I can't breathe.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I can hear Danny's voice, he's telling me to keep breathing. I would if I could, Danny, believe me. That's better, I can breathe at last. I can feel someone lifting me up, one hand cradling the back of my head. It must be Teal'c, I can feel the rumble of his deep voice through the chest I'm held against.
Drip.
Everything is getting faint again, the voices of my friends are fading into nothing. I need to tell them before it's too late. I need to tell them that…there was something I had to say. What was it?
Drip.
In the end I can only think of one word. I have to say it, I have to make them understand. Ignoring the spike of pain, I suck in a breath. "Sorry."
Drip.
Briefly I feel Teal'c's grip on me tighten, then it fades away in the numbness. I try to hold onto the sensation, but it's all drifting away. Blessed relief from the pain. I can feel my body relaxing, becoming numb.
Drip.
Tired, I'm so tired. Maybe I can rest now. Now I've told them, now they understand.
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
I hate this. Why do so many of our missions end up with us shooting at people? I wish I had a zat gun instead of this 9mm. It's depresses me that I even know the difference between the various weapons.
Even over the noise of all the weapons fire, the sound of Jack choking on his own blood carries over to me. I know it's a sound that will haunt my nightmares in the months to come. Risking another quick glance over towards the DHD I can't stop the shudder that runs through me.
Teal'c has lifted Jack upright to help him breathe. He's hanging limply, his head lolling against Teal'c's chest and he's not moving. He looks dead. There's so much blood - it's soaked his clothes and is pooling on the ground underneath him.
"Daniel."
Sam's warning shout alerts me to another burst of activity from our pursuers and I have to force myself to turn back. They're getting desperate, eager to prove the point before we can escape them. They can see that the 'gate is open and they know we'll be making a break for it.
"Time." I shout over to Sam, knowing she'll understand my query.
"Thirty seconds left." She's panting heavily, the adrenaline spiking as she lays down a covering fire.
Throwing myself into a diving roll I quickly rejoin Teal'c. Jack is gasping for breath, back arcing in a taut bow as he struggles to breathe. Suddenly he twists free of Teal'c's hold and falls to the ground before either of us can react.
"Fifteen seconds." Sam's shout is full of relief, we're almost there. She's moving over to cover us as we carefully roll Jack back over.
Oh God, he isn't breathing. His eyes are wide open, but he isn't breathing.. Heedless of the blood and the dirt, I lean closer to him until my mouth is near his ear.
"Keep breathing, don't you give up on me Jack. Keep breathing, we're almost home."
Teal's gently lifts him up and I hear Jack draw in a shuddering, rattling breath. Almost faint with relief I grab hold of the DHD to stop myself falling down.
Jack is struggling to speak and I bend closer. Just one word is breathed out, so faint and weak that I almost can't hear it.
Sorry.
He's sorry. Sorry for what? Getting shot? Sorry for giving up and letting go? Sorry he can't stay? I fight down the urge to grab his shoulders and shake the answer loose from him. I'm scared that he's slipping away from us, that this is finally the one thing that's too much.
His breathing is wrong, shallow, gurgling, but I'm not complaining. His eyes have slid shut and he's lapsed into unconsciousness, but he's still breathing. The blood is still dripping from the soaked dressings and I follow one drop down to the ground with my eyes.
Hanging limply in Teal'c's arms he looks nothing like the abrasive Colonel we all hate to love. Jack can drive me to distraction quicker than anyone I know, but I can never stay angry at him. Maybe it's because I think of him as family. I can't wait to tell him that one, I hope he sticks around long enough to hear it. He'll bluster and complain, but I know deep down he'll find that fact as comforting as I do.
"Go, go."
At Sam's shout Teal'c spins and makes a break for the wormhole, his additional burden not slowing him down as he runs up to the 'gate. Both Sam and I lay down covering fire as we retreat back up the steps towards home. I hate travelling through the wormhole backwards, it's disorientating when you come out the other side.
But this time I'm just glad to see the end of the longest 72 seconds of my life.
The End.