Screams In the Silence
Chapter One: Gravedigger
by Flatkatsi
He lifted his arm with an effort that was almost beyond him.
Threw the dirt in.
Watched as it fell.
Bent.
Took another deep shovel load.
Lifted.
Threw.
Watched
Bent.
Each movement the same. Mechanical. Unthinking. He wouldn't think.
Threw.
Covered.
Watched.
Saw.
Daniel's hand reaching out, hand curled. Carter's hair covered with dirt. Teal'c's eyes, unblinking, staring, unseeing.
He had dug the hole. Not as large as he had wanted, but he couldn't do more. He couldn't.
Couldn't.
Threw them in. Carter was heavier than she looked.
Sam.
He could call her Sam now.
Now that she is dead.
Bent.
Lifted.
Covered.
He knew that he must dig another hole tomorrow. Smaller this time. Room only for one.
Himself.
This was all that he had been saved to do.
His final act.
Bent.
Lift.
Cover.
He was dead already.
*********************
Jack O'Neill let himself slide down the cell wall, until he was sitting, knees bent, on the hard earth floor. The light was fading rapidly, only a dull glow showing through the small window set high in the wall opposite. In the gloom he could see a small cup of water on the floor, just to the left of where he sat, but he ignored it, choosing instead to shut his eyes, and try to calm his rapidly beating heart.
When had he given up? When had it become too much for him to cope with?
He shook his head slightly and took a few deep breaths.
He knew the answer. The old saying "Where there's life, there's hope" sprang to mind, and he smiled bitterly. That was it. There wasn't life and there wasn't hope. It was over. His team was dead and he was as good as. Tomorrow he was going to join them, but he didn't really care.
He thought back to this morning.
**********************
It all happened so quickly; SG-1 walked out of the gate, alert as ever, to be greeted by blasts of some sort of energy weapon. They had no chance to defend themselves, to even get off a shot.
Jack woke to find himself, hands and feet chained painfully together, lying face down in the dirt, the hot sun beating down on him. Without meaning to, he groaned, his tongue swollen in his mouth, his thirst all he could think of.
"Up." The command was barked harshly from somewhere near his feet. "Your god awaits."
For a moment he just lay there, and then, with a feeling of resignation, he rolled and pulled his feet under him, finally managing to kneel and look around. Teal'c was already kneeling several feet away, seemingly unhurt, and after a frantic glance about him, he saw Daniel and Carter still obviously unconscious nearby, surrounded by Jaffa.
His dazed brain hardly had time to process the information before a hard blow to his side knocked him down again, leaving him gasping.
"You are to only look forward. Now get up."
"Getting, getting." He choked the words through parched lips.
"Silence." This time it was a heavy boot connecting with the small of his back, making him arch in pain. "Up."
"It would help if you didn't keep knocking me down."
A sudden jerk on the chains pulled him upright and a face leered into his from only a couple of inches distance. "You will be silent." The command was spat out, and he was slammed into the ground, his knees protesting vehemently.
"Human." The resonant voice of a Goa'uld made him look up to be greeted by the sight of a slight young man simply dressed in white robes. "I would suggest that you obey my First Prime's orders. He can be easily upset."
A movement at the edge of his vision made Jack turn his head. Daniel was stirring, moving his head from side to side. Carter still seemed to be out for the count.
Crap!
Jack found himself measuring his length in the dirt once more with the added bonus of a sharp pain in his rib cage.
A tiny plume of dust tickled his nose as two black booted feet blocked his vision. A hand reached down and lifted his chin from the ground. Two blue eyes looked down at him from a smiling face.
"I did tell you that Yeas'r had a quick temper. You would do well to heed my warnings." The Goa'uld's powerful hands brought him to his knees once more, gasping as the pain from his injuries registered.
"Now tell me why you have come to one of my planets. We don't often have visitors here." The Goa'uld's voice remained pleasant.
"Sorry - can't answer that, you told me not to speak. If you don't remember ask Yes Sir, he'll tell you that I'm right." Jack steeled himself for the expected blow, and was surprised to see the Goa'uld give a quick shake of his head, stopping the Jaffa.
"I find your bravado quite amusing. Perhaps you will find it amusing when I allow my Jaffa to play with your companions. We shall be amused together."
There was the sound of scuffling and muffled shouts. Jack swung his torso around, taking in the sight of his three teammates being pulled upright, their mouths gagged. Carter must have just regained consciousness, he realised, because she was staring at him with a terrified look in her eyes as she was gripped tightly by two large Jaffa.
"You just won't learn, will you." The Goa'uld's emotionless voice brought his attention back to the watching figure. "I told you not to turn."
Jack heard the solid thump of a staff weapon before the crushing blow to the side of his head registered in his brain. He rocked back, but was prevented from falling by several hands gripping him from behind. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, and ran down the back of his throat causing him to cough, splattering red drops on the ground in front of him.
"Now tell me what you are doing here." This time the Goa'uld's voice was firm.
"Go to hell!" Jack spat again, realizing several of his teeth had been loosened by the blow.
The Goa'uld knelt once more, ignoring the wet patches on the dirt, his face grim. "You will only speak to tell me what I wish to know. Any other answer will be punished. I repeat - what are you doing here?"
Jack pressed his tongue to his front tooth, trying to hold it in place. He knew that his team was struggling against their captors by the sounds, even if he couldn't see them.
"I don't speak to anyone unless I've been formally introduced." This time it was the Goa'uld who reacted, striking Jack across the mouth with the back of his hand. It was then that Jack realised that ribbon devices had other means of inflicting harm on the human body. The sharp edges of the metal cut deep shreds from his cheek, baring it to the bone. The tooth gave up the battle and was spat out to lie at Jack's feet.
If Jack had been able to, he would have brought his hands up to his face, but as it was he could barely manage to stay upright, defiantly glaring at the creature in front of him. The Goa'uld's formerly impassive features were now contorted with rage, his face flushed.
"It does not matter who I am. All that matters is that you answer my questions. Why are you here, and where did you come from? My patience is not inexhaustible." He gestured to the guards holding the rest of Jack's team. "Bring them forward so that they can see what happens when I am not obeyed."
Carter, Daniel and Teal'c were pulled into sight, their eyes large above the sodden material of their gags, their movements stiff with defiance.
"Now. I will explain the rules one last time." The young man had got his emotions under control, and was smiling once again. "You will only speak to answer my questions. If you disobey you will be punished." His eyes glowed hotly. "What are you doing here?"
Colonel Jack O'Neill managed to direct one swift lopsided smile towards his teammates before answering, ignoring the blood running down his face.
"We heard that the climate was good here, thought that we could get a tan, maybe do a little fishing."
The Goa'uld's angry roar was deafening.
"You know, getting that angry isn't good for your blood pressure."
Jack could only tense himself for what he knew would follow.
Hands grabbed him from behind, pulling his head sharply back, making him gasp.
"You have been warned. Now you will be punished, and I will then ask your companions the same questions. Perhaps they will be more cooperative after they have seen your fate."
Unable to see his enemy, Jack struggled against his captors. His efforts were fruitless, the hold on his head too strong.
"Yeas'r - deal with it." The dismissive words caused Jack's pulse to race.
"Gladly, my lord." The Jaffa's face leered down at him. Jack watched as, with slow deliberate movements, he raised a large knife and held it before the kneeling man's eyes. Then he lowered it, holding Jack's gaze all the while.
The blade was cold against Jack's throat. Everything seemed to slow down. The sound of his friends faded into the distance, his heartbeat all that he could hear.
When it came, Jack almost felt a sense of relief. He felt the skin part, the blade slicing deeply, cutting its way through the arteries, and the jugular. He felt the blood gush forth, pulsing up through the opening. He felt his breath falter.
He felt himself die.
The hands released him to fall forward, and he lay, the pain finally registering as his body struggled for oxygen that it could not reach.
The last thing that he saw was the horrified looks on the faces of his friends.
**********************
Jack lowered his face to where his arms rested on his bent knees. He would remember those looks; remember the agony of his choking breaths, knowing that his team was forced to watch.
He would remember them.
His reawakening had been brutal. Awareness had come at a price, as he was pulled from what he knew must be a sarcophagus. His vision was blurry, vague shapes all that he could make out, but he had had no trouble feeling the slaps making his head spin.
"Time to wake up, dog. You have a job to do." Jack recognised the voice - Yes Sir, a man who really seemed to enjoy his work. As his vision cleared, he began to take in more details. The First Prime was only accompanied by one Jaffa, but Jack knew that he was no match for either of them in his current state. His head was swimming, and he could barely keep himself upright by leaning against the edge of the coffin-like box. He didn't seem to be able to take more than shallow breaths, his frantic panting loud in his own ears.
"My Lord Rast'ur has ordered that you be made useful before we dispose of you. Come!" The command was accompanied by a hard push in the direction of the nearby door. Unable to do anything but obey, Jack stumbled forward, helped along by the other Jaffa's painful grip.
It took only a short walk to reach another door, and it was then that Jack realised they were on a Goa'uld vessel. For a moment his heart sank with the thought that they had been taken off the planet, and could now be anywhere, unable to gate home, then the next door opened to reveal a ring platform. He was held upright between the two men and, with the familiar feeling of disorientation, Jack was soon blinking in the harsh sunlight. His sense of relief was almost palatable when he recognised his surroundings. He was back on the planet again - a chance to escape still possible.
His relief was short lived.
The Goa'uld's camp was in the process of being dismantled, loads of equipment being carried to the rings and transported up to the ship. Soon all that would be left was the featureless flat expanse on which it had sat, hidden from the UAV by the tall cliff surrounding it. Jack looked around, expecting to see his team being made to help, as he expected to be. All he needed to do was get some time with them, and he was sure that, despite obviously being taken out of the sarcophagus too soon, he would be able to plan an escape.
He was pulled along, stumbling across the hard packed ground, his feet catching on even the smallest rocks. He felt the eyes of the watching warriors on him, laughter echoing in his head. The walk took him nearer to the stargate; he looked up at it with longing. The doorway to home was so near, but it may have well been a million miles away for all the chance that he had to reach it.
And he had to find his team first. He would leave with them, or not at all.
"Here." His attention was forcibly brought back to Yeas'r by a heavy cuff to the side of his head that left his ears ringing. A shovel was thrust into his hands. He held it loosely, staring down and letting his sluggish thoughts process the information.
Dig.
He must have to dig.
A hard push almost caused him to lose his grip on the shovel and he staggered forward. The First Prime was pointing.
"There. Go on. They must be buried before night fall."
Jack lifted one hand and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his still partially blurred vision. Suddenly the shapes on the ground made a terrible sense.
He dropped to his knees beside them, finally releasing the shovel, and letting it fall. His hands reached out, trembling, touching, searching.
Nothing.
No signs of life.
They were dead.
His team was dead. His friends were dead.
And in that moment he despaired.
The hours of digging the hard earth, preparing the grave, passed without thought. The taunts of the Jaffa warriors, the pain in his weary body, all submerged by a sea of grief.
Yeas'r had tried to goad him, detailing the final moments of his friends, their refusal to answer questions. He had said that they wept for mercy.
Jack knew that he lied.
Their deaths had been glorious, their bravery an example to any watching.
He didn't need to have seen to know the truth.
He greeted the knowledge that he would join them tomorrow with a smile.
*********************
The long hours of the night made no impact on Jack O'Neill. His body was beginning to stiffen after being held in the same pose for so long, but he ignored it.
He was thinking.
Those times when he had laughed with Daniel. Trading smiles with Teal'c. Encouraging Sam to work her miracles.
After hours he came to the only conclusion that he could.
They would want him to live.
He had every intention of doing so. What would happen when he got back home was something else altogether. Something to be dealt with when the time came, but not now.
Now he had to find a way out of here.
Forcing his body to obey, he came shakily to his feet and began a careful search of his prison. It didn't take long to find that he had nothing but a small dirty cup of water to work with.
He refused to give up. He wouldn't give up.
Such was his certainty of a solution that the whisper at the door came as no surprise.
Its words were.
"They aren't dead." A pause. "You must save them." There was the sound of metal on metal, and the door slid open. "Quick, we must stay silent, many sleep nearby."
A tall, heavily built Jaffa beckoned Jack forward.
Jack stayed where he was.
The whisper became more urgent. "I sympathise with the cause of the rebels, and have contact with them. As soon as I saw you, I knew who you were, and that you must be saved. Our battle against the Goa'uld depends on it. Now come quickly, we must waste no more time. I will explain as we go."
They left the small building that housed the cell along with several storerooms. The night was dark, the only light coming from the waning moon low on the horizon. Jack followed as best he could, although his vision was now back to normal, he was still hampered by a shortness of breath causing him to tire almost to the point of collapse before they made it to the nearby gravesite.
"Rast'ur has a stasis weapon. He uses it often to completely paralyse his victims. It was this weapon that he used on your companions." The Jaffa hurried on, quietly explaining as he went. "He has done this many times before, taking pleasure in the anguish that those left behind suffer. The stasis field only lasts for a few hours, before wearing off. I believe that he relishes the thought of his victims waking up to find they have been buried alive. Their terror must be unimaginable."
By this time they were nearing the freshly dug grave.
"I will help you uncover them. We must hurry, the nights are short here."
Jack took the offered shovel, and dug, exhaustion forgotten. The newly turned soil was still loose, and it wasn't long before the bodies of his teammates began to emerge. Looking at them Jack found it hard to believe that they were still alive - that this wasn't some cruel joke perpetrated by the man digging beside him.
Daniel was the first uncovered, his face relaxed as if in sleep. Teal'c and Carter followed soon after, and, pulling them from the ground, he had to test once more for life. He couldn't help himself and finding none, he looked up at his companion accusingly.
"They are not dead. You must believe me." The Jaffa placed a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder. "I will help you move them into the trees, but then I must return to camp. Your friends will begin to revive shortly. You have to have patience."
Jack was exhausted by the time his teammates were hidden, finding it harder and harder to stay on his feet. He would have fallen if the Jaffa had not guided him to a log, helping him to sit. His eyes reflected his sympathy as he squatted down and spoke quietly.
"Do not worry. Rest. I will fill in the grave. Rast'ur and Yeas'r have returned by ship to our home world and have left me in charge of completing the clean up. I will tell any who ask that I disposed of you by zat during the night. They will not question. Wait until we have departed through the gate. Then you will be safe. Here, you will need this." With relief Jack saw that the object he held out was a GDO.
The Jaffa stood and despite his fatigue, Jack followed him up.
He spoke one final time. "I am Un'tak. I wish you well."
Jack clasped the other's arm, nodding briefly before the man faded into the night.
Jack sat back down. He was terribly tired, but he could not shut his eyes. They darted compulsively, scanning each of his friends for any sign of movement.
He waited in silence, his heart straining in his chest.
*********************
It was still dark when Jack heard the first indications that his teammates were reviving. The deep cough could only have come from Teal'c.
Jack was by his side in an instant. For the past half hour there had been sounds close by as the Jaffa in the camp awoke and prepared to depart. They must be planning to leave soon after dawn; he could see why his rescuer had been anxious to get himself and the others hidden. He waited until Teal'c blinked his eyes, obviously coming to terms with his own close brush with death. When the other man finally turned his gaze towards him, he leaned in close and placed a finger against his lips in the universal sign for silence. With a gesture, Jack indicated the cause of the need for quiet and although Teal'c's eyes widened at the sight of him, Jack could see that he understood. He gave a slow nod, barely able to be seen in the gloom.
Before long Sam and Daniel were also groaning their way to consciousness, both instinctively brushing dirt from their clothing and hair. The joy was evident in their expressions when they had recovered enough to fully understand that the Colonel was alive. Although they too immediately understood that there could be no noise, they satisfied their need to express their happiness by small touches on their leader's arms. Jack finally found that he could smile, the trauma of the past day beginning to ease.
Only a short time passed before the watching team saw the first of the Jaffa dial the gate and walk through, carrying armloads of equipment. Soon all that was left was the small building that had housed Jack, and one lone figure. The last Jaffa turned towards their position and, raising one hand in farewell, Jack's rescuer left through the open wormhole.
Even before the wormhole had shut itself down, O'Neill was on his feet and running. He had already dialled, and was keying in the code on the GDO, when they caught up to him. A quick look to see that they were all present and accounted for and he motioned them through, following fast behind.
*********************
The world spun and spat him out, his feet hitting the ramp, his eyes catching his first sight of home.
Thank God.
As the sullen pop of the wormhole shutting itself down behind him echoed through the room, he slowly made his way down the ramp, his eyes tracking his teammates, watching their movements.
A luxury he had nearly lost on that dusty piece of hell.
There was the clunk and soft grind of the gateroom door opening as he reached the end of the ramp. Knowing the General was the most likely candidate to come through that door, Jack took a moment to collect his thoughts, preparing for what was to come.
"Colonel, you're back early. You weren't supposed to return for another four days. Was there a problem?"
He knew it was coming.
He couldn't avoid it, no matter how he tried.
The silence after the General's question told all.
Carter looked up at him. He simply looked back, seeing a sudden realisation in her eyes.
I'm sorry, Sam. He couldn't say it, but he could think it.
Her eyes suddenly reflected his own, and she called out to the General. "Sir, I think we need a medical team here."
Jack found his breath caught in his throat, and he gasped, his stance wavering. Carter's voice went up in pitch, and she reached out a hand to him, helping him to sit. Jack found himself surrounded by his concerned teammates. It was Daniel that spotted it, and Jack saw the look of horror transmit itself along the line as the focus of Daniel's shocked stare registered.
He felt the line of pain across his throat, the pull every time he tried to take a normal breath. He lifted his fingers and felt the now familiar raised bar of livid tissue ringing his neck, legacy of the partially completed healing.
"Colonel O'Neill?" Doctor Fraiser reached forward and took his hand gently in hers, lowering it. "What happened?"
He wanted to explain, he really did. He would give almost anything to tell them all what had happened to him. How he had woken with the knowledge that he couldn't speak, could barely breathe. That the Goa'uld had done it deliberately, timed it so that he lived, but only just.
He would have given anything to be able to explain.
But he couldn't.
*********************
"Are you certain, Doctor?" General Hammond was not normally given to questioning his CMO when it came to medical matters, but in this case he couldn't help himself, her diagnosis had been so uncompromising.
"Yes, sir, I am." Janet hadn't taken offence at the General's question, she completely understood. She had repeated the tests several times herself, unwilling to accept the results. "The damage to Colonel O'Neill's throat is severe. His oesophagus, larynx, trachea, and jugular all show signs of only partial healing. It is a wonder that he can breathe at all and his vocal cords are almost severed."
"What is your prognosis, Doctor?' The General's distress was evident as he ran a weary hand over his face.
"Not good, sir. I'd like to get a second opinion, but it looks like the Colonel's breathing is already compromised. I may have to intubate if it gets any worse. To be honest, I'm not sure if such extensive damage can be repaired."
"Have you told him?"
"Yes sir. It was hard to know how he took the news. He didn't react at all, almost as if he expected it. I administered a sedative and he is sleeping at the moment."
Hammond rose, determination on his face. "You have my permission to call in any specialist that you think necessary. I take it that the Colonel's team are in the infirmary?"
"Yes. They appear to be none the worse for their ordeal. I want to keep them in the infirmary for twenty-four hours for observation in case there are any hidden effects from the weapon that was used on them. Also, they seem shaken by the whole experience, even Teal'c. I'd rather have them where I can see them."
They moved together towards the door of Hammond's office, the General stepping aside to let the Doctor go first.
"I'll debrief the Colonel's team informally now, Doctor. Perhaps it will help them to tell me exactly what happened. Please keep me informed regarding Colonel O'Neill."
Janet nodded, her mind already paging through possible specialists that she could contact.
********************
General Hammond found the members of SG-1 exactly where he expected to find them, perched in various beds in the infirmary, anxiously watching their leader sleep. Ironically, Jack looked the most peaceful of the four, his face relaxed and his breathing, although shallow, not as laboured as it had been. The General noticed an IV running into the back of his hand and remembered Doctor Fraiser saying that the Colonel had been dehydrated. He shivered. The logical extension of that thought was that Jack hadn't been able to drink at all. Did that mean that he would have to be fed through an IV as well? Damn! He couldn't imagine how someone like the Colonel would stand that for any length of time. In some way, he hoped that the Doctor would need to intubate her patient - it would stop him from trying to run off. Then he smiled to himself. Knowing Jack O'Neill, it probably wouldn't stop him.
He decided on a matter of fact approach, immediately pulling up a chair between Doctor Jackson and Major Carter's beds.
"I gather from Doctor Fraiser that you all seem to be suffering no ill effects from your experience. I'd like to know exactly what happened on the planet to you, and to the Colonel. We will have the formal debriefing when the Colonel is able to report."
At his words, he saw all three pairs of eyes turn towards the sleeping man, the terrible evidence of his ordeal there for all to see.
"Major?" His voice pulled their attention back.
Major Carter stiffened up slightly and began to describe their experiences. It didn't take her long to get to the questioning, it had all happened so quickly, from the minute that they stepped from the gate to the killing of their colonel." The Goa'uld was getting angrier and angrier as the Colonel refused to answer." Her eyes flickered back to O'Neill. "Then his First Prime grabbed." She stopped and her whole body shuddered.
"It was then that the Goa'uld ordered that O'Neill's throat be cut." Teal'c's matter of fact voice took over the report. Sam flashed him a grateful look before shutting her eyes and leaning back against the pillows of her bed. "We were unable to help him."
"He died at our feet, General." Daniel interrupted, jumping off his bed. "We had to watch as he choked his life away, drowning in his own blood. We were made to watch." His voice dropped away until it became almost a whisper. "It took a long time. He had his eyes open until just before the end. Watching us." He had reached Jack's bed and now stood, looking at him as if he couldn't believe that his friend was really there. He echoed Teal'c's words, "We couldn't help."
"There was nothing that we could do, Daniel Jackson, The Goa'uld made us watch to cause us pain. Do not allow him to win."
General Hammond saw the effect of Teal'c's words on Daniel. He stayed beside the Colonel's bed, but he nodded, acknowledging the truth. Sam sat silently, her face pale as the sheets. The General could only imagine what it must have been like for these people, the strongest and closest team that he had, to watch their leader die in such terrible circumstances.
He wondered what effect it must have on the mind of the Colonel. He knew that Jack was a master at hiding his emotions. In this case it would be even easier if he chose to do so, being unable to speak and answer questions directly.
It was a while before Major Carter continued. "After that, he asked us the same questions that he had asked the Colonel." She gave a grim smile, "We weren't in the mood to talk. I don't really know what happened next, it's all a little vague. He fired some sort of large weapon at us, then everything went blank until I woke up in the woods."
"It must have knocked us out, General. Perhaps it was some sort of zat." Daniel frowned, obviously trying to remember the events of that day.
"Teal'c?"
"I also have no memory of the events leading up to our rescue by Colonel O'Neill."
"And Jack can't tell us." Daniel's simple statement conveyed all their pain.
"General." Doctor Fraiser appeared at the door. "May I speak with you?"
Hammond almost welcomed the interruption.
"Certainly Doctor." He turned back to the others. "We will continue this later. Try to get some rest, people." He gestured towards the other bed. "He would want you to."
*********************
"Colonel." Jack heard the familiar sound of the Doc's voice close beside his ear. "Time to wake up."
He opened his eyes, his head still filled with the images from his nightmares. Filling his friends' open mouths with dirt and watching as they fought to breathe. Watching as they died.
"Colonel?"
He fought to take a deep breath, to clear his head, but he couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. Despite his best intentions he felt himself beginning to panic as his head started to spin. He shut his eyes, putting all his energy into calming himself down, trying to relax.
"Damn it! Get a intubation kit here, stat!"
His eyes snapped open at the doctor's words. He didn't need that cursed tube down his throat; it felt bad enough as it was. Tight and hard and ugly.
Janet was bending over him, so he grabbed her wrist, reducing his panting as he did so.
"Sir?"
He shook his head. There was no need for speech. Janet would know exactly what he meant.
She did.
She put her free hand over his and squeezed lightly. "Alright, but I'm afraid that we are only delaying the inevitable, your breathing is compromised and soon you won't be able to take in enough oxygen. Do you understand?"
This time it was his turn to agree, giving a nod, and as much of a smile as he could raise.
"I have someone to see you, sir." Jack was surprised to see a short, dark haired man standing beside her. He hadn't even realised that there was anyone else there. "This is Doctor Hamilton. He's an otolaryngology specialist and has dealt with these sorts of injuries before."
Idly Jack wondered how often the specialist had needed to deal with someone who had had their throat cut and stuck back together again like a jigsaw with a few of the pieces missing.
"Colonel O'Neill, Doctor Fraiser has explained some of the circumstances surrounding your injury." Jack caught Janet's eye, and lifted one eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Teal'c. She stifled a laugh and gave a quick wink. "I've looked at the tests and x-rays, but I am afraid that I will have to make a physical examination as well. I'll be as quick as possible, but it will be painful."
*********************
The Doctor was right, Jack thought as he struggled to control his reactions, it was painful. Almost as painful as having his throat cut in the first place.
"It won't be much longer, sir." Janet had obviously seen the signs that he was trying so hard to hide, if her anxious look was anything to go by. He clenched his hands tightly under the sheets as Doctor Hamilton pressed his fingers hard into the back of his neck and muttered one of those annoying noises that doctor's seem wont to make to avoid communicating in any intelligible way.
"Doctor." Janet's warning tone made it through the buzz of agony and Jack opened his eyes to find both doctors looking over at the various monitors attached to him. Even he could tell that they weren't happy with what they saw.
Well, hallelujah, they had finally worked it out. Stop now or your patient will either kill you or die, one or the other. At the moment, he felt like it was the dying option that was the easiest, and he had already done that once this week. He didn't want it to become a habit.
"That will be sufficient, I think, Doctor Fraiser. I have enough information for the moment." Jack was startled when Hamilton patted him awkwardly on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Colonel. It isn't often that I examine someone with these injuries who is still alive. I hope that I didn't distress you too much. I'll discuss my findings with Doctor Fraiser, and have my report prepared as soon as possible."
Jack would have liked to have said that he appreciated the Doctor's dilemma, but he couldn't, and had to content himself with a brief nod. He shut his eyes, busy trying to breathe again, and felt himself slipping slowly into the dark.
*********************
Jack really wasn't surprised to find his throat filled with tube when he woke again. The constant nightmare of choking and struggling for breath that had plagued him for hours had given him fair warning of what to expect.
But he didn't have to like it. He raised his head a little and looked around, knowing that the Doc would be hovering somewhere close.
"Jack?"
Daniel came into view. He must have been sitting next to the bed.
"Janet's gone to talk to the General. She'll be back soon." The archaeologist looked like he hadn't slept in days, his face lined with fatigue. "How are you feeling?"
Just peachy, Daniel. How do you think I'm feeling?
Jack's knew that his frustration at the question must have been obvious because Daniel flushed slightly and stammered out an apology.
"Hell! I'm sorry, Jack. I wasn't thinking." He hurried on. "I'm sure that the Doctor that Janet called in will be able to do something. Don't worry."
Jack saw how much emotion was expressed in those few words. For Daniel the thought of not being able to speak must be dreadful; his love of language and communication such an integral part of his life. Of course, for himself, it meant the end of his career - the Air Force would hardly be anxious to keep on a senior officer already coming to the end of his active service if he couldn't speak. Not a good advertisement for a career in the military.
Of course it was probably all academic anyway. Without this damned tube and the IV he couldn't even breathe or feed himself.
He couldn't live like this.
The Goa'uld had managed to kill him after all.
The silence stretched uncomfortably, until Daniel stood up and touched him on the arm.
"It will be okay, Jack. You have to believe that. It will be."
All Jack could do was shut his eyes.
He heard his friend sigh softly and the rustle as he sat again.
*********************
"Jack. Janet is here." Daniel gently woke the Colonel as Janet entered the room. She waited until she was sure that he was fully awake before she spoke.
"Daniel would you mind stepping out for a while? Why don't you go get something to eat and come back in about half an hour?" Janet saw reluctance cross Daniel's face and took him by the arm, leading him towards the door. "I need to examine the Colonel and I'm sure that he would rather have some privacy. You understand." She smiled as he nodded and slowly walked out, looking back twice before he had even reached the elevators.
"Now Colonel." Janet tried for a matter of fact tone as she approached her patient's bed. "I have the report from Doctor Hamilton." She spotted the apprehensive look before Jack's face blanked of all emotion, and perched herself on the edge of the bed, trying to look relaxed. She was anything but relaxed, but the last thing the Colonel needed right now was to pick up on her concern.
"He has suggested that we operate and attempt to repair the damage. He is fairly confident that he can restore your trachea and oesophagus."
Jack raised his right hand and gestured to his mouth.
"Yes, " Janet smiled, "That would mean that we could remove the tube as soon as you have recovered from the operation, probably in just a few days."
He shook his head, his frustration clearly showing, and once again gestured at his mouth.
Her heart sank a little, but she answered honestly. Jack O'Neill wasn't the sort of person to need bad news sugar coated.
"Doctor Hamilton is of the opinion that the damage to your vocal cords is too extensive to repair." She saw the blankness beginning to return to his eyes and hurried on. "However he did say that he couldn't be sure. We will know more when he operates."
She waited for a response.
All she got was a slow blink of his eyes. It was hard to read the Colonel at the best of times.
"I've scheduled the surgery for tomorrow morning. Would you like me to explain the situation to your team?"
This time the response immediate. The Colonel shook his head emphatically and pointed at himself. He then made writing motions, obviously requesting pen and paper.
Janet handed him a clipboard with some blank paper, her experience telling her that trying to write while lying down was much easier against a hard surface. The pencil that she found would also be simpler to use than a pen.
The Colonel's hand shook slightly, making his normally neat handwriting a little untidy, but it was still clear enough to be easily read.
Ask my team to come. I will tell them.
"Okay, sir. I'll pass the message along and then report to the General. Is there anything that you need before I go?"
The only answer she received was a headshake. The Colonel put the clipboard alongside him on the bed and shut his eyes, dismissing her.
*********************
Chapter One: Gravedigger
by Flatkatsi
He lifted his arm with an effort that was almost beyond him.
Threw the dirt in.
Watched as it fell.
Bent.
Took another deep shovel load.
Lifted.
Threw.
Watched
Bent.
Each movement the same. Mechanical. Unthinking. He wouldn't think.
Threw.
Covered.
Watched.
Saw.
Daniel's hand reaching out, hand curled. Carter's hair covered with dirt. Teal'c's eyes, unblinking, staring, unseeing.
He had dug the hole. Not as large as he had wanted, but he couldn't do more. He couldn't.
Couldn't.
Threw them in. Carter was heavier than she looked.
Sam.
He could call her Sam now.
Now that she is dead.
Bent.
Lifted.
Covered.
He knew that he must dig another hole tomorrow. Smaller this time. Room only for one.
Himself.
This was all that he had been saved to do.
His final act.
Bent.
Lift.
Cover.
He was dead already.
*********************
Jack O'Neill let himself slide down the cell wall, until he was sitting, knees bent, on the hard earth floor. The light was fading rapidly, only a dull glow showing through the small window set high in the wall opposite. In the gloom he could see a small cup of water on the floor, just to the left of where he sat, but he ignored it, choosing instead to shut his eyes, and try to calm his rapidly beating heart.
When had he given up? When had it become too much for him to cope with?
He shook his head slightly and took a few deep breaths.
He knew the answer. The old saying "Where there's life, there's hope" sprang to mind, and he smiled bitterly. That was it. There wasn't life and there wasn't hope. It was over. His team was dead and he was as good as. Tomorrow he was going to join them, but he didn't really care.
He thought back to this morning.
**********************
It all happened so quickly; SG-1 walked out of the gate, alert as ever, to be greeted by blasts of some sort of energy weapon. They had no chance to defend themselves, to even get off a shot.
Jack woke to find himself, hands and feet chained painfully together, lying face down in the dirt, the hot sun beating down on him. Without meaning to, he groaned, his tongue swollen in his mouth, his thirst all he could think of.
"Up." The command was barked harshly from somewhere near his feet. "Your god awaits."
For a moment he just lay there, and then, with a feeling of resignation, he rolled and pulled his feet under him, finally managing to kneel and look around. Teal'c was already kneeling several feet away, seemingly unhurt, and after a frantic glance about him, he saw Daniel and Carter still obviously unconscious nearby, surrounded by Jaffa.
His dazed brain hardly had time to process the information before a hard blow to his side knocked him down again, leaving him gasping.
"You are to only look forward. Now get up."
"Getting, getting." He choked the words through parched lips.
"Silence." This time it was a heavy boot connecting with the small of his back, making him arch in pain. "Up."
"It would help if you didn't keep knocking me down."
A sudden jerk on the chains pulled him upright and a face leered into his from only a couple of inches distance. "You will be silent." The command was spat out, and he was slammed into the ground, his knees protesting vehemently.
"Human." The resonant voice of a Goa'uld made him look up to be greeted by the sight of a slight young man simply dressed in white robes. "I would suggest that you obey my First Prime's orders. He can be easily upset."
A movement at the edge of his vision made Jack turn his head. Daniel was stirring, moving his head from side to side. Carter still seemed to be out for the count.
Crap!
Jack found himself measuring his length in the dirt once more with the added bonus of a sharp pain in his rib cage.
A tiny plume of dust tickled his nose as two black booted feet blocked his vision. A hand reached down and lifted his chin from the ground. Two blue eyes looked down at him from a smiling face.
"I did tell you that Yeas'r had a quick temper. You would do well to heed my warnings." The Goa'uld's powerful hands brought him to his knees once more, gasping as the pain from his injuries registered.
"Now tell me why you have come to one of my planets. We don't often have visitors here." The Goa'uld's voice remained pleasant.
"Sorry - can't answer that, you told me not to speak. If you don't remember ask Yes Sir, he'll tell you that I'm right." Jack steeled himself for the expected blow, and was surprised to see the Goa'uld give a quick shake of his head, stopping the Jaffa.
"I find your bravado quite amusing. Perhaps you will find it amusing when I allow my Jaffa to play with your companions. We shall be amused together."
There was the sound of scuffling and muffled shouts. Jack swung his torso around, taking in the sight of his three teammates being pulled upright, their mouths gagged. Carter must have just regained consciousness, he realised, because she was staring at him with a terrified look in her eyes as she was gripped tightly by two large Jaffa.
"You just won't learn, will you." The Goa'uld's emotionless voice brought his attention back to the watching figure. "I told you not to turn."
Jack heard the solid thump of a staff weapon before the crushing blow to the side of his head registered in his brain. He rocked back, but was prevented from falling by several hands gripping him from behind. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, and ran down the back of his throat causing him to cough, splattering red drops on the ground in front of him.
"Now tell me what you are doing here." This time the Goa'uld's voice was firm.
"Go to hell!" Jack spat again, realizing several of his teeth had been loosened by the blow.
The Goa'uld knelt once more, ignoring the wet patches on the dirt, his face grim. "You will only speak to tell me what I wish to know. Any other answer will be punished. I repeat - what are you doing here?"
Jack pressed his tongue to his front tooth, trying to hold it in place. He knew that his team was struggling against their captors by the sounds, even if he couldn't see them.
"I don't speak to anyone unless I've been formally introduced." This time it was the Goa'uld who reacted, striking Jack across the mouth with the back of his hand. It was then that Jack realised that ribbon devices had other means of inflicting harm on the human body. The sharp edges of the metal cut deep shreds from his cheek, baring it to the bone. The tooth gave up the battle and was spat out to lie at Jack's feet.
If Jack had been able to, he would have brought his hands up to his face, but as it was he could barely manage to stay upright, defiantly glaring at the creature in front of him. The Goa'uld's formerly impassive features were now contorted with rage, his face flushed.
"It does not matter who I am. All that matters is that you answer my questions. Why are you here, and where did you come from? My patience is not inexhaustible." He gestured to the guards holding the rest of Jack's team. "Bring them forward so that they can see what happens when I am not obeyed."
Carter, Daniel and Teal'c were pulled into sight, their eyes large above the sodden material of their gags, their movements stiff with defiance.
"Now. I will explain the rules one last time." The young man had got his emotions under control, and was smiling once again. "You will only speak to answer my questions. If you disobey you will be punished." His eyes glowed hotly. "What are you doing here?"
Colonel Jack O'Neill managed to direct one swift lopsided smile towards his teammates before answering, ignoring the blood running down his face.
"We heard that the climate was good here, thought that we could get a tan, maybe do a little fishing."
The Goa'uld's angry roar was deafening.
"You know, getting that angry isn't good for your blood pressure."
Jack could only tense himself for what he knew would follow.
Hands grabbed him from behind, pulling his head sharply back, making him gasp.
"You have been warned. Now you will be punished, and I will then ask your companions the same questions. Perhaps they will be more cooperative after they have seen your fate."
Unable to see his enemy, Jack struggled against his captors. His efforts were fruitless, the hold on his head too strong.
"Yeas'r - deal with it." The dismissive words caused Jack's pulse to race.
"Gladly, my lord." The Jaffa's face leered down at him. Jack watched as, with slow deliberate movements, he raised a large knife and held it before the kneeling man's eyes. Then he lowered it, holding Jack's gaze all the while.
The blade was cold against Jack's throat. Everything seemed to slow down. The sound of his friends faded into the distance, his heartbeat all that he could hear.
When it came, Jack almost felt a sense of relief. He felt the skin part, the blade slicing deeply, cutting its way through the arteries, and the jugular. He felt the blood gush forth, pulsing up through the opening. He felt his breath falter.
He felt himself die.
The hands released him to fall forward, and he lay, the pain finally registering as his body struggled for oxygen that it could not reach.
The last thing that he saw was the horrified looks on the faces of his friends.
**********************
Jack lowered his face to where his arms rested on his bent knees. He would remember those looks; remember the agony of his choking breaths, knowing that his team was forced to watch.
He would remember them.
His reawakening had been brutal. Awareness had come at a price, as he was pulled from what he knew must be a sarcophagus. His vision was blurry, vague shapes all that he could make out, but he had had no trouble feeling the slaps making his head spin.
"Time to wake up, dog. You have a job to do." Jack recognised the voice - Yes Sir, a man who really seemed to enjoy his work. As his vision cleared, he began to take in more details. The First Prime was only accompanied by one Jaffa, but Jack knew that he was no match for either of them in his current state. His head was swimming, and he could barely keep himself upright by leaning against the edge of the coffin-like box. He didn't seem to be able to take more than shallow breaths, his frantic panting loud in his own ears.
"My Lord Rast'ur has ordered that you be made useful before we dispose of you. Come!" The command was accompanied by a hard push in the direction of the nearby door. Unable to do anything but obey, Jack stumbled forward, helped along by the other Jaffa's painful grip.
It took only a short walk to reach another door, and it was then that Jack realised they were on a Goa'uld vessel. For a moment his heart sank with the thought that they had been taken off the planet, and could now be anywhere, unable to gate home, then the next door opened to reveal a ring platform. He was held upright between the two men and, with the familiar feeling of disorientation, Jack was soon blinking in the harsh sunlight. His sense of relief was almost palatable when he recognised his surroundings. He was back on the planet again - a chance to escape still possible.
His relief was short lived.
The Goa'uld's camp was in the process of being dismantled, loads of equipment being carried to the rings and transported up to the ship. Soon all that would be left was the featureless flat expanse on which it had sat, hidden from the UAV by the tall cliff surrounding it. Jack looked around, expecting to see his team being made to help, as he expected to be. All he needed to do was get some time with them, and he was sure that, despite obviously being taken out of the sarcophagus too soon, he would be able to plan an escape.
He was pulled along, stumbling across the hard packed ground, his feet catching on even the smallest rocks. He felt the eyes of the watching warriors on him, laughter echoing in his head. The walk took him nearer to the stargate; he looked up at it with longing. The doorway to home was so near, but it may have well been a million miles away for all the chance that he had to reach it.
And he had to find his team first. He would leave with them, or not at all.
"Here." His attention was forcibly brought back to Yeas'r by a heavy cuff to the side of his head that left his ears ringing. A shovel was thrust into his hands. He held it loosely, staring down and letting his sluggish thoughts process the information.
Dig.
He must have to dig.
A hard push almost caused him to lose his grip on the shovel and he staggered forward. The First Prime was pointing.
"There. Go on. They must be buried before night fall."
Jack lifted one hand and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his still partially blurred vision. Suddenly the shapes on the ground made a terrible sense.
He dropped to his knees beside them, finally releasing the shovel, and letting it fall. His hands reached out, trembling, touching, searching.
Nothing.
No signs of life.
They were dead.
His team was dead. His friends were dead.
And in that moment he despaired.
The hours of digging the hard earth, preparing the grave, passed without thought. The taunts of the Jaffa warriors, the pain in his weary body, all submerged by a sea of grief.
Yeas'r had tried to goad him, detailing the final moments of his friends, their refusal to answer questions. He had said that they wept for mercy.
Jack knew that he lied.
Their deaths had been glorious, their bravery an example to any watching.
He didn't need to have seen to know the truth.
He greeted the knowledge that he would join them tomorrow with a smile.
*********************
The long hours of the night made no impact on Jack O'Neill. His body was beginning to stiffen after being held in the same pose for so long, but he ignored it.
He was thinking.
Those times when he had laughed with Daniel. Trading smiles with Teal'c. Encouraging Sam to work her miracles.
After hours he came to the only conclusion that he could.
They would want him to live.
He had every intention of doing so. What would happen when he got back home was something else altogether. Something to be dealt with when the time came, but not now.
Now he had to find a way out of here.
Forcing his body to obey, he came shakily to his feet and began a careful search of his prison. It didn't take long to find that he had nothing but a small dirty cup of water to work with.
He refused to give up. He wouldn't give up.
Such was his certainty of a solution that the whisper at the door came as no surprise.
Its words were.
"They aren't dead." A pause. "You must save them." There was the sound of metal on metal, and the door slid open. "Quick, we must stay silent, many sleep nearby."
A tall, heavily built Jaffa beckoned Jack forward.
Jack stayed where he was.
The whisper became more urgent. "I sympathise with the cause of the rebels, and have contact with them. As soon as I saw you, I knew who you were, and that you must be saved. Our battle against the Goa'uld depends on it. Now come quickly, we must waste no more time. I will explain as we go."
They left the small building that housed the cell along with several storerooms. The night was dark, the only light coming from the waning moon low on the horizon. Jack followed as best he could, although his vision was now back to normal, he was still hampered by a shortness of breath causing him to tire almost to the point of collapse before they made it to the nearby gravesite.
"Rast'ur has a stasis weapon. He uses it often to completely paralyse his victims. It was this weapon that he used on your companions." The Jaffa hurried on, quietly explaining as he went. "He has done this many times before, taking pleasure in the anguish that those left behind suffer. The stasis field only lasts for a few hours, before wearing off. I believe that he relishes the thought of his victims waking up to find they have been buried alive. Their terror must be unimaginable."
By this time they were nearing the freshly dug grave.
"I will help you uncover them. We must hurry, the nights are short here."
Jack took the offered shovel, and dug, exhaustion forgotten. The newly turned soil was still loose, and it wasn't long before the bodies of his teammates began to emerge. Looking at them Jack found it hard to believe that they were still alive - that this wasn't some cruel joke perpetrated by the man digging beside him.
Daniel was the first uncovered, his face relaxed as if in sleep. Teal'c and Carter followed soon after, and, pulling them from the ground, he had to test once more for life. He couldn't help himself and finding none, he looked up at his companion accusingly.
"They are not dead. You must believe me." The Jaffa placed a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder. "I will help you move them into the trees, but then I must return to camp. Your friends will begin to revive shortly. You have to have patience."
Jack was exhausted by the time his teammates were hidden, finding it harder and harder to stay on his feet. He would have fallen if the Jaffa had not guided him to a log, helping him to sit. His eyes reflected his sympathy as he squatted down and spoke quietly.
"Do not worry. Rest. I will fill in the grave. Rast'ur and Yeas'r have returned by ship to our home world and have left me in charge of completing the clean up. I will tell any who ask that I disposed of you by zat during the night. They will not question. Wait until we have departed through the gate. Then you will be safe. Here, you will need this." With relief Jack saw that the object he held out was a GDO.
The Jaffa stood and despite his fatigue, Jack followed him up.
He spoke one final time. "I am Un'tak. I wish you well."
Jack clasped the other's arm, nodding briefly before the man faded into the night.
Jack sat back down. He was terribly tired, but he could not shut his eyes. They darted compulsively, scanning each of his friends for any sign of movement.
He waited in silence, his heart straining in his chest.
*********************
It was still dark when Jack heard the first indications that his teammates were reviving. The deep cough could only have come from Teal'c.
Jack was by his side in an instant. For the past half hour there had been sounds close by as the Jaffa in the camp awoke and prepared to depart. They must be planning to leave soon after dawn; he could see why his rescuer had been anxious to get himself and the others hidden. He waited until Teal'c blinked his eyes, obviously coming to terms with his own close brush with death. When the other man finally turned his gaze towards him, he leaned in close and placed a finger against his lips in the universal sign for silence. With a gesture, Jack indicated the cause of the need for quiet and although Teal'c's eyes widened at the sight of him, Jack could see that he understood. He gave a slow nod, barely able to be seen in the gloom.
Before long Sam and Daniel were also groaning their way to consciousness, both instinctively brushing dirt from their clothing and hair. The joy was evident in their expressions when they had recovered enough to fully understand that the Colonel was alive. Although they too immediately understood that there could be no noise, they satisfied their need to express their happiness by small touches on their leader's arms. Jack finally found that he could smile, the trauma of the past day beginning to ease.
Only a short time passed before the watching team saw the first of the Jaffa dial the gate and walk through, carrying armloads of equipment. Soon all that was left was the small building that had housed Jack, and one lone figure. The last Jaffa turned towards their position and, raising one hand in farewell, Jack's rescuer left through the open wormhole.
Even before the wormhole had shut itself down, O'Neill was on his feet and running. He had already dialled, and was keying in the code on the GDO, when they caught up to him. A quick look to see that they were all present and accounted for and he motioned them through, following fast behind.
*********************
The world spun and spat him out, his feet hitting the ramp, his eyes catching his first sight of home.
Thank God.
As the sullen pop of the wormhole shutting itself down behind him echoed through the room, he slowly made his way down the ramp, his eyes tracking his teammates, watching their movements.
A luxury he had nearly lost on that dusty piece of hell.
There was the clunk and soft grind of the gateroom door opening as he reached the end of the ramp. Knowing the General was the most likely candidate to come through that door, Jack took a moment to collect his thoughts, preparing for what was to come.
"Colonel, you're back early. You weren't supposed to return for another four days. Was there a problem?"
He knew it was coming.
He couldn't avoid it, no matter how he tried.
The silence after the General's question told all.
Carter looked up at him. He simply looked back, seeing a sudden realisation in her eyes.
I'm sorry, Sam. He couldn't say it, but he could think it.
Her eyes suddenly reflected his own, and she called out to the General. "Sir, I think we need a medical team here."
Jack found his breath caught in his throat, and he gasped, his stance wavering. Carter's voice went up in pitch, and she reached out a hand to him, helping him to sit. Jack found himself surrounded by his concerned teammates. It was Daniel that spotted it, and Jack saw the look of horror transmit itself along the line as the focus of Daniel's shocked stare registered.
He felt the line of pain across his throat, the pull every time he tried to take a normal breath. He lifted his fingers and felt the now familiar raised bar of livid tissue ringing his neck, legacy of the partially completed healing.
"Colonel O'Neill?" Doctor Fraiser reached forward and took his hand gently in hers, lowering it. "What happened?"
He wanted to explain, he really did. He would give almost anything to tell them all what had happened to him. How he had woken with the knowledge that he couldn't speak, could barely breathe. That the Goa'uld had done it deliberately, timed it so that he lived, but only just.
He would have given anything to be able to explain.
But he couldn't.
*********************
"Are you certain, Doctor?" General Hammond was not normally given to questioning his CMO when it came to medical matters, but in this case he couldn't help himself, her diagnosis had been so uncompromising.
"Yes, sir, I am." Janet hadn't taken offence at the General's question, she completely understood. She had repeated the tests several times herself, unwilling to accept the results. "The damage to Colonel O'Neill's throat is severe. His oesophagus, larynx, trachea, and jugular all show signs of only partial healing. It is a wonder that he can breathe at all and his vocal cords are almost severed."
"What is your prognosis, Doctor?' The General's distress was evident as he ran a weary hand over his face.
"Not good, sir. I'd like to get a second opinion, but it looks like the Colonel's breathing is already compromised. I may have to intubate if it gets any worse. To be honest, I'm not sure if such extensive damage can be repaired."
"Have you told him?"
"Yes sir. It was hard to know how he took the news. He didn't react at all, almost as if he expected it. I administered a sedative and he is sleeping at the moment."
Hammond rose, determination on his face. "You have my permission to call in any specialist that you think necessary. I take it that the Colonel's team are in the infirmary?"
"Yes. They appear to be none the worse for their ordeal. I want to keep them in the infirmary for twenty-four hours for observation in case there are any hidden effects from the weapon that was used on them. Also, they seem shaken by the whole experience, even Teal'c. I'd rather have them where I can see them."
They moved together towards the door of Hammond's office, the General stepping aside to let the Doctor go first.
"I'll debrief the Colonel's team informally now, Doctor. Perhaps it will help them to tell me exactly what happened. Please keep me informed regarding Colonel O'Neill."
Janet nodded, her mind already paging through possible specialists that she could contact.
********************
General Hammond found the members of SG-1 exactly where he expected to find them, perched in various beds in the infirmary, anxiously watching their leader sleep. Ironically, Jack looked the most peaceful of the four, his face relaxed and his breathing, although shallow, not as laboured as it had been. The General noticed an IV running into the back of his hand and remembered Doctor Fraiser saying that the Colonel had been dehydrated. He shivered. The logical extension of that thought was that Jack hadn't been able to drink at all. Did that mean that he would have to be fed through an IV as well? Damn! He couldn't imagine how someone like the Colonel would stand that for any length of time. In some way, he hoped that the Doctor would need to intubate her patient - it would stop him from trying to run off. Then he smiled to himself. Knowing Jack O'Neill, it probably wouldn't stop him.
He decided on a matter of fact approach, immediately pulling up a chair between Doctor Jackson and Major Carter's beds.
"I gather from Doctor Fraiser that you all seem to be suffering no ill effects from your experience. I'd like to know exactly what happened on the planet to you, and to the Colonel. We will have the formal debriefing when the Colonel is able to report."
At his words, he saw all three pairs of eyes turn towards the sleeping man, the terrible evidence of his ordeal there for all to see.
"Major?" His voice pulled their attention back.
Major Carter stiffened up slightly and began to describe their experiences. It didn't take her long to get to the questioning, it had all happened so quickly, from the minute that they stepped from the gate to the killing of their colonel." The Goa'uld was getting angrier and angrier as the Colonel refused to answer." Her eyes flickered back to O'Neill. "Then his First Prime grabbed." She stopped and her whole body shuddered.
"It was then that the Goa'uld ordered that O'Neill's throat be cut." Teal'c's matter of fact voice took over the report. Sam flashed him a grateful look before shutting her eyes and leaning back against the pillows of her bed. "We were unable to help him."
"He died at our feet, General." Daniel interrupted, jumping off his bed. "We had to watch as he choked his life away, drowning in his own blood. We were made to watch." His voice dropped away until it became almost a whisper. "It took a long time. He had his eyes open until just before the end. Watching us." He had reached Jack's bed and now stood, looking at him as if he couldn't believe that his friend was really there. He echoed Teal'c's words, "We couldn't help."
"There was nothing that we could do, Daniel Jackson, The Goa'uld made us watch to cause us pain. Do not allow him to win."
General Hammond saw the effect of Teal'c's words on Daniel. He stayed beside the Colonel's bed, but he nodded, acknowledging the truth. Sam sat silently, her face pale as the sheets. The General could only imagine what it must have been like for these people, the strongest and closest team that he had, to watch their leader die in such terrible circumstances.
He wondered what effect it must have on the mind of the Colonel. He knew that Jack was a master at hiding his emotions. In this case it would be even easier if he chose to do so, being unable to speak and answer questions directly.
It was a while before Major Carter continued. "After that, he asked us the same questions that he had asked the Colonel." She gave a grim smile, "We weren't in the mood to talk. I don't really know what happened next, it's all a little vague. He fired some sort of large weapon at us, then everything went blank until I woke up in the woods."
"It must have knocked us out, General. Perhaps it was some sort of zat." Daniel frowned, obviously trying to remember the events of that day.
"Teal'c?"
"I also have no memory of the events leading up to our rescue by Colonel O'Neill."
"And Jack can't tell us." Daniel's simple statement conveyed all their pain.
"General." Doctor Fraiser appeared at the door. "May I speak with you?"
Hammond almost welcomed the interruption.
"Certainly Doctor." He turned back to the others. "We will continue this later. Try to get some rest, people." He gestured towards the other bed. "He would want you to."
*********************
"Colonel." Jack heard the familiar sound of the Doc's voice close beside his ear. "Time to wake up."
He opened his eyes, his head still filled with the images from his nightmares. Filling his friends' open mouths with dirt and watching as they fought to breathe. Watching as they died.
"Colonel?"
He fought to take a deep breath, to clear his head, but he couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. Despite his best intentions he felt himself beginning to panic as his head started to spin. He shut his eyes, putting all his energy into calming himself down, trying to relax.
"Damn it! Get a intubation kit here, stat!"
His eyes snapped open at the doctor's words. He didn't need that cursed tube down his throat; it felt bad enough as it was. Tight and hard and ugly.
Janet was bending over him, so he grabbed her wrist, reducing his panting as he did so.
"Sir?"
He shook his head. There was no need for speech. Janet would know exactly what he meant.
She did.
She put her free hand over his and squeezed lightly. "Alright, but I'm afraid that we are only delaying the inevitable, your breathing is compromised and soon you won't be able to take in enough oxygen. Do you understand?"
This time it was his turn to agree, giving a nod, and as much of a smile as he could raise.
"I have someone to see you, sir." Jack was surprised to see a short, dark haired man standing beside her. He hadn't even realised that there was anyone else there. "This is Doctor Hamilton. He's an otolaryngology specialist and has dealt with these sorts of injuries before."
Idly Jack wondered how often the specialist had needed to deal with someone who had had their throat cut and stuck back together again like a jigsaw with a few of the pieces missing.
"Colonel O'Neill, Doctor Fraiser has explained some of the circumstances surrounding your injury." Jack caught Janet's eye, and lifted one eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Teal'c. She stifled a laugh and gave a quick wink. "I've looked at the tests and x-rays, but I am afraid that I will have to make a physical examination as well. I'll be as quick as possible, but it will be painful."
*********************
The Doctor was right, Jack thought as he struggled to control his reactions, it was painful. Almost as painful as having his throat cut in the first place.
"It won't be much longer, sir." Janet had obviously seen the signs that he was trying so hard to hide, if her anxious look was anything to go by. He clenched his hands tightly under the sheets as Doctor Hamilton pressed his fingers hard into the back of his neck and muttered one of those annoying noises that doctor's seem wont to make to avoid communicating in any intelligible way.
"Doctor." Janet's warning tone made it through the buzz of agony and Jack opened his eyes to find both doctors looking over at the various monitors attached to him. Even he could tell that they weren't happy with what they saw.
Well, hallelujah, they had finally worked it out. Stop now or your patient will either kill you or die, one or the other. At the moment, he felt like it was the dying option that was the easiest, and he had already done that once this week. He didn't want it to become a habit.
"That will be sufficient, I think, Doctor Fraiser. I have enough information for the moment." Jack was startled when Hamilton patted him awkwardly on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Colonel. It isn't often that I examine someone with these injuries who is still alive. I hope that I didn't distress you too much. I'll discuss my findings with Doctor Fraiser, and have my report prepared as soon as possible."
Jack would have liked to have said that he appreciated the Doctor's dilemma, but he couldn't, and had to content himself with a brief nod. He shut his eyes, busy trying to breathe again, and felt himself slipping slowly into the dark.
*********************
Jack really wasn't surprised to find his throat filled with tube when he woke again. The constant nightmare of choking and struggling for breath that had plagued him for hours had given him fair warning of what to expect.
But he didn't have to like it. He raised his head a little and looked around, knowing that the Doc would be hovering somewhere close.
"Jack?"
Daniel came into view. He must have been sitting next to the bed.
"Janet's gone to talk to the General. She'll be back soon." The archaeologist looked like he hadn't slept in days, his face lined with fatigue. "How are you feeling?"
Just peachy, Daniel. How do you think I'm feeling?
Jack's knew that his frustration at the question must have been obvious because Daniel flushed slightly and stammered out an apology.
"Hell! I'm sorry, Jack. I wasn't thinking." He hurried on. "I'm sure that the Doctor that Janet called in will be able to do something. Don't worry."
Jack saw how much emotion was expressed in those few words. For Daniel the thought of not being able to speak must be dreadful; his love of language and communication such an integral part of his life. Of course, for himself, it meant the end of his career - the Air Force would hardly be anxious to keep on a senior officer already coming to the end of his active service if he couldn't speak. Not a good advertisement for a career in the military.
Of course it was probably all academic anyway. Without this damned tube and the IV he couldn't even breathe or feed himself.
He couldn't live like this.
The Goa'uld had managed to kill him after all.
The silence stretched uncomfortably, until Daniel stood up and touched him on the arm.
"It will be okay, Jack. You have to believe that. It will be."
All Jack could do was shut his eyes.
He heard his friend sigh softly and the rustle as he sat again.
*********************
"Jack. Janet is here." Daniel gently woke the Colonel as Janet entered the room. She waited until she was sure that he was fully awake before she spoke.
"Daniel would you mind stepping out for a while? Why don't you go get something to eat and come back in about half an hour?" Janet saw reluctance cross Daniel's face and took him by the arm, leading him towards the door. "I need to examine the Colonel and I'm sure that he would rather have some privacy. You understand." She smiled as he nodded and slowly walked out, looking back twice before he had even reached the elevators.
"Now Colonel." Janet tried for a matter of fact tone as she approached her patient's bed. "I have the report from Doctor Hamilton." She spotted the apprehensive look before Jack's face blanked of all emotion, and perched herself on the edge of the bed, trying to look relaxed. She was anything but relaxed, but the last thing the Colonel needed right now was to pick up on her concern.
"He has suggested that we operate and attempt to repair the damage. He is fairly confident that he can restore your trachea and oesophagus."
Jack raised his right hand and gestured to his mouth.
"Yes, " Janet smiled, "That would mean that we could remove the tube as soon as you have recovered from the operation, probably in just a few days."
He shook his head, his frustration clearly showing, and once again gestured at his mouth.
Her heart sank a little, but she answered honestly. Jack O'Neill wasn't the sort of person to need bad news sugar coated.
"Doctor Hamilton is of the opinion that the damage to your vocal cords is too extensive to repair." She saw the blankness beginning to return to his eyes and hurried on. "However he did say that he couldn't be sure. We will know more when he operates."
She waited for a response.
All she got was a slow blink of his eyes. It was hard to read the Colonel at the best of times.
"I've scheduled the surgery for tomorrow morning. Would you like me to explain the situation to your team?"
This time the response immediate. The Colonel shook his head emphatically and pointed at himself. He then made writing motions, obviously requesting pen and paper.
Janet handed him a clipboard with some blank paper, her experience telling her that trying to write while lying down was much easier against a hard surface. The pencil that she found would also be simpler to use than a pen.
The Colonel's hand shook slightly, making his normally neat handwriting a little untidy, but it was still clear enough to be easily read.
Ask my team to come. I will tell them.
"Okay, sir. I'll pass the message along and then report to the General. Is there anything that you need before I go?"
The only answer she received was a headshake. The Colonel put the clipboard alongside him on the bed and shut his eyes, dismissing her.
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