Saving Teal'c
Being with Carter could have made the whole trapped-in-time scenario worth it, if it weren't for Teal'c. The time the worry there would become critical approached far faster than he had imagined it could. The days in the desert seemed to drag on forever, but somehow Teal'c's time was running out like water down a drain. He didn't know how to slow it down, and he didn't know how to fix the problem. But somehow he had to do something. To sit back and watch Teal'c die was unacceptable and unthinkable.
In the end though, it was fate, not Jack that intervened and bought Teal'c more time. Their wandering group of sand dwellers ambled across a squadron of Ra's Jaffa a long way from home. It was anyone's guess what they were doing out so far from the StarGate, but it came as an answer to prayer. A fight had apparently broken out among them, and even as they watched, the Jaffa marched away leaving a fallen comrade behind.
Katep's group kept on their previous path to avoid running into any of the Jaffa, but Jack immediately signaled Teal'c and Daniel to fall back with him. Though he occasionally managed to extract Carter from the women in order to sneak away and give her a break from their stiff-necked presence there wasn't time for that now. They needed to get to the symbiote quickly. IF, and he knew that was a big if, the symbiote itself had not been injured, but left to die when the Jaffa died...well, even Carter couldn't argue against making use of it-as long as they made sure it died before it could take a host.
"What's going on, Jack?" Daniel asked, nervously watching their group move on without them.
"We need to get to the Jaffa, Daniel."
"What for?" Daniel asked suspiciously.
"Because, we need that symbiote...if they left it behind and it's uninjured."
"Really? And just what do we plan on doing with it?" Daniel asked, and Jack glanced at him in surprise. Had he really been enjoying life in Ancient Times so much, he'd failed to consider Teal'c's tretonin supply couldn't last forever? He shook his head in amazement and set off at a fast march to the Jaffa. Daniel was smart. He'd figure it out eventually.
Teal'c was already ahead of them. He bent over the Jaffa and reached down. When he stood back up, he held the wriggling symbiote in his hand. Jack came to a stop next to him.
"Well?" he asked catching his breath and wiping away the sweat running down his neck.
"It will do, O'Neill. It has perhaps three years before maturation." Jack watched Teal'c stare at the creature with revulsion. He understood. The Jaffa had thought he was finally and forever free of the servitude carrying a symbiote brought with it...he could not have any desire to place himself back under the bondage to which he'd been born.
Jack gave Teal'c's arm an encouraging pat. "I'm sorry, T," he said. "What choice do we have?"
"None," Teal'c said with finality. He had thought he'd die in battle striking a blow against the Goa'uld. That would have been a good death, a worthy one. Instead, he faced an end he could not willingly accept. Not a glorious death in battle with his enemies, but a quiet one in defeat and weakness. This symbiote could be his redemption and give him one more chance at a worthy death. As the Tauri would say, it was a bitter pill to swallow, but he decided the day he had planned to go alone into the desert and let things take their course was not, after all, a good day to die.
"What do we have to do?" O'Neill asked him. His pouch had been surgically closed off, but it remained beneath his abdominal wall. They would have to cut through and trust the symbiote would be able to stop any bleeding they could not control before it became fatal. Teal'c thought even if he should die from the attempt, it would be better to die fighting to survive rather than lying down and accepting death like a weak, old man.
He looked at his friends. O'Neill's face was unreadable as he slipped his combat knife from his belt and sharpened it. Teal'c knew he would do what had to be done. Daniel's face was pale beneath the tan he'd developed from their weeks in the sun. Teal'c knew, even so, he too, would do what was required of him. They were friends he could trust with his life, and he did.
The pain was worse than when he'd undergone the prim'tah and been implanted with his first symbiote. That had been done by a trained priest with careful ritual and his father's eyes holding his. The pain from the cut had been nothing next to his father's pleasure in him. The boy Teal'c had felt only his father's pride at his son taking his place among the Jaffa. This time it was Daniel whose eyes held his, and instead of pride there was only sympathy and understanding. For a time, he didn't think they would be enough to hold him above the pain, but then it was past. He could feel the symbiote's strength building in him, the bleeding slowing, and the tissues already beginning to heal.
He blinked into Daniel's eyes and nodded his head. "I am all right, Daniel Jackson," he said.
Daniel grinned at him in relief and turned to Jack who was quietly wiping his knife in the burning sun. "Let's not do that again," Daniel said. He waved his hands slowly in the air, and Teal'c realized he must have crushed them to keep from crying out during the procedure.
"No, let's not," O'Neill agreed. Teal'c wondered what was going on behind the closed mask his friend was wearing. Often he knew. They were very much alike, he and O'Neill. Both warriors committed to the cause, both accustomed to acting and reacting in battle, both chafing under the endless, monotonous days of inactivity in which they found themselves trapped. But today he could not begin to fathom his thoughts. He would be pleased he'd found a way to prolong his life, that he knew. He would be relieved the symbiote (and he awaited with interest the name O'Neill would grace this one with) was so quickly making repairs. But, he did not know what else was going through his mind.
Revulsion that he once again carried the young of his enemy within him? Disgust that his weakness had necessitated such a disagreeable task? Or simply a cold calculation of how long they must remain separated from their companions before he would be strong enough to move?
"I am sorry for this, O'Neill," he said because he was.
"Think nothing of it, Teal'c," O'Neill answered him. "I'm...sorry I had to hurt you like that," O'Neill swallowed hard and still didn't meet his eye and finally Teal'c understood. Realized he should have known from the beginning. Behind his mask, O'Neill was hiding only his own feelings of shortcoming as a commander. He blamed himself any of this had been necessary, that his leadership had brought them all to this point.
"It was of no concern," he said, but he knew there was nothing he could say to wipe away the guilt his friend carried for him. He'd led men to their deaths himself and understood there were no words to wipe away the burden of leadership. "I will be ready to travel soon," he said instead of platitudes which would mean nothing and change nothing.
To prove his words, he tested his strength and found he was able to sit up. Weakness washed over him like a wave, and both of his friends reached out steadying hands. He motioned them aside. O'Neill would be in a hurry to rejoin the others, he would make sure he did not hold his friends back from catching the group before they broke camp again after the midday meal and rest.
