A nurse took Lona from me as I hovered over May. Doctor Frasier worked furiously, and I gripped May's icy hand in my own. May screamed again, her hand compressing my fingers harder than I thought was possible.
A baby screamed. A boy. Doc Frasier held the tiny boy as he was wrapped in a soft blue blanket. She handed him to his mother.
May released my hand and held the child, gazing down at him, enraptured. The tiny puffs of dark hair swirled across his tiny head, and, as he opened his eyes for the first time, I could see that they were a stunning dark blue.
I was barely able to glimpse his eyes before May yanked him to her chest, bending her body around him in a protecting and secretive embrace. I could only watch in confusion as sobs wracked her body, the lamenting wails emerging from the protective cocoon she had become. She muttered plaintively in her language, and I looked to Daniel for translation.
"My child, who will provide for you?" Daniel whispered, translating. He looked up at me. "Braoin means sorrow. She's named him Sorrow."
I shook my head. No child was sorrow. It didn't matter that this child was not mine, was, in fact, probably the Jaffa's, he would still be loved.
I reached down and gently pried the child from his mother's arms. May looked alarmed, her face damp and red with tears. She cried out to me, and, although Daniel didn't translate, I knew she was concerned I would hurt him.
As I looked into his innocent, wide blue eyes, I came up with the perfect name.
"Owen," I said quietly, looking up at May for approval. Owen had been a friend of mine as a child, and I had always liked the name. I only hoped it was appropriate. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I hoped May would approve.
She gasped slightly, looking both confused and oddly pleased. Although she shook her head, I knew she liked the name.
I looked to Daniel, but he bent over May speaking gently to her. Whatever he said seemed to please her, and she fell asleep almost immediately.
As a nurse took Owen to the nursery, or whatever accommodations they had thrown together for the unusual presence of newborns, I looked to Daniel for after-the-fact translation. He was always better at the people stuff than me, although I would never tell him that.
Daniel had that look on his face, the one that said 'Jack, for someone so stupid, you sure can do some things right'.
"What?" I asked, not meeting his eyes.
"Jack, do you have any idea what the name Owen means?"
I shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, Good Friend?" I guessed.
Daniel gave me one of those patented exasperated glares, "It means Fortunate One."
I thought about it for a second and then grinned, "So, it's good, right?"
Daniel rolled his eyes and left.
"What'd I say?" I asked, trailing after him.
-ooo-
After my third pass by the infirmary in less than two hours, Janet waved me in.
"Colonel, when's the last time you slept?" she asked accusingly.
"Last night," I responded defensively, hands in my pockets.
"Colonel, you arrived here at five in the morning. I doubt very seriously that you slept before making your great escape."
"Okay, so maybe the night before last," I said, shrugging and leaning against the wall, well aware of what she was getting at.
"Colonel, you need to rest. I'm going to give you something…"
"No!" I said- surprised at the volume it came out. I concentrated on controlling my voice before I repeated myself. "No, Doctor, I don't need anything to help me sleep," I said with forced tranquility.
"Colonel O'Neill, as your doctor I am ordering you to stand still and take it like a man," she stated firmly.
"Doctor, and I use the term loosely, you know I don't react well to sleep aids, and I'd appreciate you minding your own business!" The volume of my voice rose again and I made no effort to stop it. She matched me decibel for decibel.
"Your health is my business, COLONEL, and I would appreciate it if you would lower your tone!" Janet's voice was firm, and I knew I had already lost the battle. "This is a new drug, and it shouldn't cause a reaction," she said as she injected me with the already prepared syringe.
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
"Now, go to sleep!" Janet commanded, pointing to the door.
"Napoleonic power monger," I muttered as I left obediently, hands deep in my pockets and head hanging.
I shuffled down the hallway, deep in thought. Pie sounded good, but I could already feel the drug pulling me down. Besides, that would make four pieces in one night. The door to my on-base room appeared none too soon, and I barely stripped to my skivvies before collapsing into the bed.
-ooo-
I was back in Club Med. The head guard, Mohammad, had us paraded out, bound, into the courtyard. The other guards stood watch over us as a woman and her two small children were dragged before us. One guard held the struggling infants as the woman was thrown at Mo's feet. She stood slowly, quaking.
I grabbed her by the throat, pressing her against the courtyard wall.
Mo asked her something, something about her husband and betrayal, she shook her head.
I asked her again, my grip around her throat tightening. She shook her head again, eyes wide.
He raised his hand, took the collar of her tattered garment, and
ripped the fragile gown off her body, leaving her naked. I pulled her up off the ground, her feet dangling, scrambling to reach
the loose sand of the desert piled beneath her. She wrapped her hands around his wrist, taking the weight, and her nails
bit into my skin, crescents of dull pain.
She spoke then, forcing out each word, begging him not to kill her, for the sake of the
"children! Please!" she begged. I released my grip, allowing her to fall to her knees on the
yellow desert sand. Mo said something to her then and her eyes flicked to her children.
"I'll kill the children," I said, "unless…"
She looked appalled, and then resigned. She nodded, staring at
my boxers. I paused, as if
thinking, feigning a deliberation to draw out the fun as long as possible. She kept her eyes down, submissive. When he moved, it was quickly.
I plastered her against the wall; hand around her forearm, groping for the waistband of my boxers. I threw her down on
the piles of yellow sand, pressing her into
the bed with the weight of my body, my hands roaming over her body with
deliberate harshness, his voice whispering cruelly. The woman cried out as we turned away, begging him not to kill her children. As she fell silent, I turned to look. His hand was over her mouth and she no longer struggled. She was
dieing. Her blue eyes rolled back under my hand. I released her and shoved her away in one quick movement.
"Leave!" I cried, her glazed brown eyes staring at me, "Leave!!!" I shouted at the nightmare apparition. And, once again, she was gone.
I collapsed back into bed, pausing only long enough to locate my MIA boxers before surrendering, once again, to my nightmares.
